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leafs-lover · 4 years ago

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Because Two People Got Drunk: 35

Chapter 35

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to the anon who gave a suggestion for this. I honestly hadn’t considered it in the story; but it actually made sense given how little Fred and Y/N had spent talking about it.

Warning: Angst, swearing, mentions of cheating, smut

Word Count: 7100

You are in the lobby of the hockey arena waiting for Oliver. The twins are asleep in their stroller; you gently rocking it back and forth to help them nap. The game ended over twenty minutes ago and Fred went to the change room to help get him out of his hockey equipment.

It’s been a couple weeks since Fred’s injury; he has been home for most of it. When at the rink he has been spending his time with trainers off the ice. That was until yesterday, he managed to do a short session with the goalie coach and some basic drills but likely won’t be back until after Christmas.

You know it’s been hard for him, since that game the team fell into a slump. They have won a few games in regulation, but overall the team is struggling being outplayed and outscored. The hardest part for him is feeling completely helpless because he is sidelined.

As he started to improve he was able to spend more time with the kids; and Oliver has been loving getting all the cuddles from Fred. Today Fred decided to join you at Oliver’s hockey game.

You were a little unsure of the idea, not wanting it to be too much for him, but he reassured you he would be fine; and once Oliver heard you knew there was no way Fred wouldn’t come. After helping Oliver get in his equipment Fred told you he was beaming in the change room; his smile never fading, introducing Fred to everyone though he has already met them earlier in the season.

You look down at your watch; it’s almost 10:45, your stomach growling loudly. You ate breakfast at seven, but around now you normally would have a snack but forgot to pack something. The little baby in your belly really making the eating for two seem like a reality right now. Finally you see Fred leave the change room carrying Oliver’s hockey bag in one hand and holding his hand with his other.

Your son is practically skipping as he makes his way down the hall. As soon as he sees you he releases Fred’s hand and takes off running to you “Mommy!”

You catch him mid jump “good game buddy!” you say squeezing him.

“Did you see me?”

“Yeah you were great” you reply “you played awesome. Looked like your daddy in net” you say and he smiles at your words. The biggest compliment for him is being compared to his hero.

“Where is your dad?” you ask him realizing Fred hasn’t made his way to you.

“People wanted his picture” Oliver shrugs confused.

“Yeah people are excited to see him” you respond scanning around the hockey arena.

As soon as you sat down there was whispers and a couple kids came up asking for pictures. It’s something you have learned to get used to over the past few years.

Fred is always willing to take pictures with fans, especially kids. Every time he apologizes even though you have told him countless times you don’t mind. You love how he interacts with fans, and how taking a few minutes makes their day. While you understand how important fan engagement is, Oliver doesn’t understand the hype around it. To him Fred and all the other players are just people, normal people he knows.

“Did you see my save? The one I stopped with my stick” you hear Oliver ask and you dive into a conversation with your son about his game.

Your eyes find Fred standing with a woman and her son, who is Oliver’s age. You engage in the conversation with your son but can help and notice the large smile on her face, how her dark brown hair shines under the lights. While it’s not uncommon for Fred to talk to the parents of young fans, you notice how close she is standing and how her child doesn’t seem interested in him at all.

You gently set Oliver on the ground while the two of them continue to chat away. You drop random “uh huh” or an “oh really” but you lose all focus when you watch her hand touch his bicep while they laugh at something he said.

You swallow a lump in your throat and take a deep breath but it doesn’t stop you from feeling like the walls are shattering around you. You hear Oliver babbling away but his voice continues to fade away into the background. Your stomach almost jumps into your throat and your chest tightens. You tell yourself it’s nothing, that you don’t be concerned. And you almost believe it, that is until you watch her stroke up his arm.

“Mommy” Oliver pulls on your sleeve and grabbing your attention.

“Yeah bud” you say snapping your eyes down to his.

“I said I’m thirsty” he repeats.

“Oh” you reply with a shaky voice. You fumble into your bag and pull out your water bottle handing it to him. When you look back to where Fred was you notice he is gone and you turn your attention back to Oliver

Finally you feel the familiar touch of Fred’s hand on your back and he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. Your entire body stiffens against his touch, you reach down to take the bottle back from Oliver to hide the real reason you pulled away.

“Ready?” he asks taking the stroller from you, while you take Oliver's hand as he skips in excitement. The drive is filled with Oliver’s excited chatter from the back seat, you stare out the window not having much to say.

Fred’s hand reaches across the car finding your stomach, slowly rubbing over your bump. You relax into the seat, Fred chuckling while Oliver rambles on about his friends on his team. You replay the scene from the arena over and over in your head, you remember she was in the stands; her son having played against Oliver. But did she look towards Fred, did his eyes wander?

“Can I mom?” Oliver calls out and Fred gently nudges you with his hand.

“Hmm what was that?” you ask being brought back from your trance.

You feel Fred glare at you from the side of his eye “Kyle said I could have a sleepover at his house” he repeats “can I?”

You chuckle slightly knowing this is one of his friends on the team, after every game or practice he always has something funny to tell you that Kyle said or did. “I’ll have to talk to his parents” you respond.

“Yeah talk to them mommy” he cheers and Fred laughs shaking his head.

“We will but not today, we have the party this afternoon” Fred says pulling into your driveway.

As soon as the car is in park Oliver jumps out the car “when’s the party daddy?”

“In a couple hours” he says grabbing Noah “after lunch.”

Oliver runs into the house leaving his boots and coat in a pile on the floor and making his way to the living room. You take the twins and follow him while Fred takes his hockey equipment to air out. You have a relaxing afternoon, Oliver plays with his Lego and various toys, the twins nap and play on their activity mat. You rest on the couch scrolling through your phone aimlessly.

Multiple times over the next few hours you feel Fred’s eyes find you. His eyes are soft but full of concern. He can sense something is wrong, but he also doesn’t know if it’s just the pregnancy dragging you down today. Instead of asking he gives you time in case you are just tired, thinking maybe you just need some time to rest.

“The boys are cute” Kathy says giving you a hug while you stand at the snack table. You laugh lightly seeing the twins in plaid shirts and vests, one of them held in Fred’s arm while Oliver immediately took off to find his friends. You didn’t dress them, Fred actually had their coats on before you came downstairs so you had no idea all your boys were matching until you got here.

He bounces them in his arms and shoots you a smile when he catches you staring. He aims them towards you and their green eyes light up when they see you. A half smile crosses your face, but Fred senses the emptiness behind it and a scowl crosses his. You look away with a displeased groan grabbing a cup.

“How are you doing?” she asks as you pour some water.

“We’ve been good; now that Fred’s symptoms are mostly gone it’s been better. Oliver loves having him around though” you respond taking a sip.

“That’s great but I asked how you are. Seems like something is going on” she says softly. “Having him at home the past few weeks should be good. You two are almost nauseating to watch sometimes. You came in after him, and haven’t spent a second beside him and don’t think I didn’t see whatever that was” her index finger pointing between the two of you.

You laugh a little and turn towards her “we’re fine” you lie.

You hear her groans as she grips your hand pulling you down the hall to the bathroom, locking the door behind you. “Spill.”

You roll your eyes and back up against the counter. Anyone else wouldn’t have given you a second glance, some would have bought your fake smiles and those that didn’t would have assumed it was hormones or exhaustion from the pregnancy. But not Kathy; she knows you too well.

You start by telling her how it’s nothing and how you are overreacting; that you are likely reading too far into it. You get into the woman at Oliver’s hockey game, how they seemed to be really close, too close. You tell her how when he said something she touched his arm and gently grazed over his muscles.

You ramble for twenty minutes and at the end finish by saying how you have no idea what they talked about. It could have been about him donating time or merchandise for a charity event; that they were so far away you couldn’t hear anything.

You expect her to tell you you’re overthinking it. That it could have been nothing, or maybe she was trying to flirt with him but that doesn’t mean anything. That you can’t get upset over what strangers do. That just because she flirted with Fred it doesn’t mean he flirted back.

Instead she takes a deep breath and walks over to you, wrapping her arms around you. She holds you for a few minutes saying nothing. The silence is deafening; you swear you feel the walls closing in around you before you finally speak.

“During the playoffs last year when I was pregnant Fred kissed someone else.”

You can tell by her silence and that her eyes not meeting yours that she already knew that.

You thought saying those words would be liberating; finally telling someone what he did. Instead you feel yourself fall apart, sobbing into her shoulder. Your hands tighten around her back, clenching on the fabric of her sweater. Your body shakes against hers; warm tears staining her shirt.

Her hands gently run up and down your back; soothing you. You grip her shirt tighter, swallowing the lump in your throat until your eyes begin to dry.

“Sounds like you and him have some stuff to talk about.”

You thought this had been left in the past, you had accepted and processed it and dealt with all your emotions. But now after watching what should have been a harmless interaction you realize you have some unresolved feelings and paranoia. Likely because you never had a dedicated conversation about everything that happened.

You basically shut Fred out for days while you processed everything. You wanted to calm down and think over everything; make sure you didn’t say something you would regret. Once you had your time you were going to invite Fred to share your bed again and begin to have the conversations needed to move on.

Then the car accident happened. Fred tried to talk with you after but at that point it didn’t seem important to you. You had long decided you were going to forgive him, and with everything that happened focusing on your recovery and the twins seemed more important than tearing open old wounds.

You and Fred should have sat down; even for a brief conversation. What happened today should have been nothing, it shouldn’t have triggered you the way it did. Fred didn’t do anything besides stop to take a picture with a child; this woman decided to touch him. And he was at your side in under a minute of that happening, making it pretty obvious he got away as quick as possible. If your trust hadn’t of become fractured seven months ago you wouldn’t be in your head right now.

Once you return to the party you feel Fred’s eyes immediately find you. He can see the redness in your eyes and the puffiness of your cheeks. He knows you have been crying, but what makes it worse is you are blocking him out. You can feel the pleading of his eyes, but you can’t bring yourself to make eye contact.

He watches while you get a snack, while you chat with some of the women. He smiles watching you and Oliver decorate stockings, part of the Christmas crafts the team has set up. He laughs watching when Oliver shakes his, spilling the excessive amount of glitter onto your lap. To everyone else you seem happy, like you are having a great night.

You feel his eyes burning a hole in you and eventually find his gaze, his entire face lights up; he thinks maybe he was right, maybe the pregnancy is just tiring you out. But Fred sees the emptiness behind your eyes, the hollowness in the half smile. You swear you hear his heart fall as you pull your eyes from him.

“You ready for Santa” you ask walking up beside Fred a few moments later; bouncing the twins in your arms. They coo in response having no idea what you are saying. But Oliver who is clinging to Fred’s neck cheers in response.

“When is Santa coming daddy?” he asks eyes lighting up.

“I heard that his sleigh landed on the roof a few minutes ago” he says and you watch as Oliver’s eyes go wide. You hear some jingling of bells and Oliver drops down eagerly running to the group of children. The entire room erupts as he walks in, but Fred places a hand on the small of your back pulling you into his chest.

“You okay?” he asks softly leaning close to your ear.

You give him a small nod in response, his breath on your neck would normally ignite your core, send a dampness between your legs but today it doesn’t. Today it irritates you but Fred doesn’t stop trying to break your walls down.

“Don’t lie to me” he says pulls Lucas from you, his hand resting gently on your hip as he places a soft kiss on your temple.

“It’s nothing” you lie shifting on your feet to pull away from him ever so slightly.

“Are we seriously going to play this game (Y/N)” he groans. “Just tell me.”

“Not here” you hiss in response.

“So it is something” he says.

“Yes” you retort. As you begin to walk away you hear Fred sigh loudly but he uses his better judgement and doesn’t follow you.

He joins you for a family picture with Santa, and even asks Sid to take the twins so the two of you can get a picture just the two of you. Apart from that he gives you space while also remaining close.

You can tell he is bothered he comes up beside you a couple times and tries to talk to you, but each time his mouth falls shut and he saunters off. He has no idea what he did, and how could he? How could he know you’re actually bothered by something that happened months ago?

After buckling everyone in the car Fred climbs out of the back, you place your bags and coats on the floor before closing the door. When you turn around Fred is waiting off to the side. He opens your door for you but instead of getting in you walk into his chest.

After the immediate shock Fred’s arms wrap around you. You feel the tears prick the sides of your eyes, but you sniffle them away. He feels your body gently heave and tightens his grip around you, holding you close; his body keeping you sheltered from the crisp Pittsburgh air.

You sigh against him and pull away, wordlessly climbing into the car. Fred gently shuts the door and gets in the driver’s side, you can tell he is confused but he says nothing starting the drive home. It’s a silent drive, you staring out the passenger window, Fred turns the volume of the radio down until it’s almost inaudible, you don’t need to turn around to see that all your sons have fallen asleep.

Once home you carefully take Oliver to bed and tuck him while Fred does the same with the twins. You change into some pyjamas and begin your night routine. At some point Fred comes in the bathroom to brush his teeth. Normally he would wait in the bathroom for you, his hand resting on your bump, groaning when you reach for another product instead of being done and ready for bed. You would shoot him a playful smirk and he would resume his post patiently waiting for you finish.

But not tonight, tonight he leaves once he is done; letting you finish your routine alone. You wash your face, brush out your hair and pull it into a loose bun on the top of your head. When you are finally done you find Fred sitting on the end of the bed waiting for you.

“Hey” he says seeing you nervously playing with his hands

“Hey” you reply shooting him a soft smile. You sit beside him curling your legs up on the mattress.

“What’s going on?” he chuckles awkwardly.” I replayed today through my head a million times from every angle and I have no idea what I did” he huffs. “We had coffee in bed before the boys woke up and it was great. We had breakfast and got ready for hockey everything was great until the party. Something shifted and I don’t know what. Did I leave some dishes in the sink or some socks on the floor? Did I say something stupid, like what did I do?”

“Nothing” you whisper.

“No don’t say nothing. Something is wrong so tell me. What did I do wrong?” he shifts closer to you and rests his hand on your ankle. You see the pleading in his eyes as he gently lifts your chin.

“You didn’t do anything” you repeat, Fred shaking his head running his hand through his hair frustrated at your response. You grip his hand and bring it back down to the bed “you didn’t do anything…today.”

“What does that mean?” he scoffs.

“After the game when you were walking back to the lobby you were stopped for pictures and what not by some people” he nods slightly. “Well a woman came up to you, dark hair.”

“Yeah her son wanted a picture” he explains.

“Right well I saw that, but then the two of you talked for a couple minutes. She was standing really close and I saw her touch your arm, and I don’t know it made me jealous or something.”

“Babe I didn’t want anything to do with her, I basically ran back to you right after that. I mean she’s not my type you don’t have to worry” he replies.

“Wait I don’t have to worry because she isn’t your type” you rise to your feet walking away.

“That’s not what I meant, they are two separate statements” you hear the sound of his footsteps getting closer. “Even if she was my type you wouldn’t have to worry, you’re it for me babe” he comes up resting his hands on your hip his voice low and in your ear. “You’re the only one I have eyes for. Nobody else elske.”

“But that hasn’t always been the case” you say pushing his hands off your hips. “I mean seven months ago you kissed someone else.”

You hear him sigh behind you and you take a large gulp. You turn around to face him seeing regret fill his face. His face falls and you blink through your pain before continuing “seeing that today bothered me and I know it shouldn’t. I knew nothing happened but it really bothered me. Eight months ago it wouldn’t have, but after finding out about you…I…I don’t know” you shake the image from your head, trying to compose yourself.

Fred walks over to you and wraps his arms around you “I get it babe” he sighs .

“I guess I thought I was fine. That I was over it, it didn’t bother me. But it does bother me” you say choking on some sobs. Fred tightens his grip on you, completely engulfing you in his arms while you begin to sob against his chest. You clench his t-shirt while warm tears roll down your cheeks.

“Let’s talk about it then. Whenever you’re ready, and as much as you need” he says hands finding the back of your neck to hold you tight against him.

“I want to” you take a deep breath and wipe the side of your eye “now.”

You walk over to the bed and sit down crossing your legs, Fred joins sitting a few feet from you waiting for you to start. You sit in silence for a few minutes trying to find the words, not knowing where to start.

“I know you love me” you grab his hands in yours. “I know you would do anything for me, our family. But it’s not easy. We only got together because I got pregnant, if I didn’t I don’t think we’d be here.”

As you talk you watch his facial expression change; he stares at you like you’re crazy. Like he has no idea where that is coming from; because he never felt that way and doesn’t want you to. And it something that has been mentioned a few times, and you know it irritates him when anyone thinks that way. But it kills his to think you believe it.

“I don’t think that’s true babe. I mean yeah that brought us together, but we took our time. We built this right and we wouldn’t be here after all this time if we only were together because of you getting pregnant. It was almost two years after we got pregnant that we finally figured out or feelings and got together. If we were only together because of Ollie we would have been together from the start and it likely wouldn’t have been so hard. We both wouldn’t have gotten hurt so much in the process.”

“Okay but I get insecure because of that, and women constantly throw themselves at you which doesn’t help. But I was able to ignore it befre, let it all become background noise until you kissed someone. Now I see someone flirt with you and I can’t help but be jealous” you say through foggy eyes.

“I know I’m not always easy to be with” he shifts to be closer to you, pulling you into his lap “but I love you so much.”

“I never doubted that” you whine against his chest looking down in your lap. You nervously pick at your nails, trying to avoid eye contact “I just. I don’t know, I don’t know what I’m saying or what I want.”

Silence fills the air and you sense his hesitation “do you still want me, to be with me?”

“What” your head snaps up finding his dark eyes glazed with tears “of course I do.”

“Still want to marry me” he whispers afraid of the answer.

“Yes Frederik of course I do.”

“Do you want me to go to a hotel, give you some time –“

“No Fred I don’t want that” you almost snap at his questions. “I just need you to know that what you did hurt, and sometimes it still bothers me. The last time you cheated on me I was pregnant, and I’m pregnant again now so it’s hard. It’s hard because I want to trust it won’t happen again and I do trust it; until something happens and I doubt everything.”

You hear him mumble a fuck against your hair finally putting together your struggles. You practically hear the wheels stop turning as he finally has connected all the dots that led to your pain. It’s not that you are worried about him cheating, you are worried the stress of the pregnancy will get to him and it will happen again.

His hand rests on your waist, hesitantly finding its way onto your bump. You hear Fred sniffle as some tears land in your hair. The past 12 weeks you have had fears of Fred cheating on you again, dreams of that day and thanks to your pregnancy they have been vivid.

In some dreams it’s almost like you are replaying that day, you get sent a picture. Another dream or more like nightmare is you walking in to your bedroom and he is in bed buried deep inside another woman. You know these are just dreams but it doesn’t help your anxiety.

He runs his hand up and down your arm while you soak his shirt with your tears. He continues to try to soothe you but his attempts fail and you begin to sob uncontrollably. He holds you tight, you don’t even know for how long.

Finally your body relaxes and the tears in your eyes have dried, bottom lip stopped trembling. Your vision is still slightly blurred but you tilt your head to look at Fred showing your puffy cheeks. His face is wrecked with emotion; eyes wet with his own tears.

“I hate when you cry, but it’s so much worse when I’m the cause of it” he says laughing through his tears. You bring your thumb up to wipe his away, he gently rests his cheek against your palm.

“I love seeing you pregnant, I always have. There is something about seeing the woman I love carry my baby; words can’t even describe the feeling” you smile slightly at his words. “And I am so sorry I took what should be an amazing beautiful time” his hand lands on your stomach and he softly strokes over it “and put seeds of doubt into it. But tell me what you need to make this better. Whether it’s a night away, or a puppy or if you need to hit me whatever it is lets do it.”

“I don’t need or want to hit you” you laugh slightly. “And a puppy would be way too much work right now.” Fred’s lips gently land on your forehead as he rocks you back and forth. You relax into his touch bringing your hand through his beard and onto his chest. “I don’t know if there is any one thing; if the situation was reversed and I kissed someone do you think there is one thing that could fix it?”

He doesn’t respond. You don’t know if it’s because he doesn’t know or doesn’t want to say it; not that you were expecting a response.

“Honestly I’m drained; me and the baby just want to curl up under the blankets and get some sleep” you sigh.

“Okay” he whispers pulling his hands away from you.

Your body is weak as you crawl out his lap; slipping under the cold sheets. Fred sits at the bottom of the bed not sure if you want him to join. You fold the blanket on his side down and tap the empty space and he quickly fills it, not needing to be told twice.

He lies on his back not bothering to pull the blankets up his body. His gaze locks on your ceiling, but you can see his pupils shifting as he replays the conversation; or maybe that night eight months ago. You slide closer to Fred and rest your hand on his chest, using his bicep as a pillow.

His hand lands on your back and he pulls you in close, almost as if he’s afraid he’ll lose you. You can feel the tension exuding off of him and can hear his uneasy breathing. After the night you had you are mentally exhausted and practically fall asleep instantly, though you know Fred will be awake for hours.

The next morning you wake up on your side facing away from Fred, some of the morning light beginning to trickle through your blinds. You don’t need to look at your clock to know you are earlier than normal; the kids likely sleeping for another 45 minutes.

You roll over and Fred is staring at the ceiling the same position you left him in last night. The bags under his eyes and red in his pupils telling you he didn’t sleep well. While you were emotionally drained and fell asleep relatively easily, you felt Fred tossing and turning beside you which woke you up multiple times.

“Hey” he whispers a faint smile finding his face when he sees you. “How’d you sleep?”

Shifting in your sheets, you embrace the exhaustion carried over from the night before. Normally you would try to fall back asleep until the twins cried over the monitor or you hear Oliver footsteps running down the hall towards your room.

“Okay” you yawn. Fred smiles lightly brushing your hair from your forehead.

“Not sleep good?” you ask, he shakes his head in response.

“How could I?” he sighs turning his gaze back to the ceiling.

“Sorry” you whisper.

“No you don’t have anything to apologize for. I fucked up and your feelings are valid”

“I kind of feel better, I think maybe I just had to get it all out. Tell you how I was feeling” you say crawling over to him. It’s not a lie, you didn’t necessarily need anything to happen or for Fred to do anything He just needed to know how you felt, be aware of the problem. Maybe if you hadn’t brushed it under the rug many months ago your feelings would be resolved.

“I’m glad” he responds his lips hesitantly press to your forehead. You melt into his touch, your hand sliding up his shirt feeling his warm skin under your nails. You tilt your head gently pressing your lips to Fred’s.

You can sense his hesitation as you crawl on him sinking into the kiss. You know he can taste your morning breath but he doesn’t care, opening his mouth to allow you entrance. His lips are slightly chapped like usual as your tongue swipes along his lower lip; he moans when you suck on his lower lip pulling it back slightly.

His hands tentatively find your hips holding you on his stomach. Your tongue slides inside his mouth, your hand finding his rough beard and gently rakes through it. Your mouths move in sync with one another, his hands slowly begin to wander around to the back of your thighs before returning to your hips. You gently grind down on him, feeling his tip separated by some thin fabric between your cheeks. After a few minutes Fred pulls away leaving the two of you gasping for air.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like this. I never want you to be insecure, especially because of me” he whispers. He gently pushes you onto your back, him resting on his side. “You’re it for me, my other half; my better half. You complete me and I never want you to worry. No other girl has a shot with me” his mouth attaches to your neck peppering you with soft kisses.

“You are the only girl I want to curl up beside after a game. The only girl who will make me watch the Notebook only to turn it off with 15 minutes left because it’s too sad to finish.” You roll your eyes at that but can’t help a grin from crossing your face.

He crawls on top of you; your hands stroking along his biceps. “You’re the only girl I want stealing my sweaters, the only girl I want to kiss” he briefly presses his lips to yours. His knee gently finds a spot between your legs spreading them open a couple inches.

You moan ever so lightly you aren’t even sure Fred heard it until he smirks against your lips. “You’re the only girl I want to make those sounds come out of.” You clear your throat and bite your bottom lip as Fred’s mouth presses to the side of your neck. Your eyelashes kiss your cheek your body squirming while wetness begins to pool in your core.

“You’re the only girl I want to touch” he gently presses a kiss to your jaw bone, a finger trailing down your arm. “The only girl I want to taste” he licks along your collarbone. He places warm open mouth kisses on your collarbone finding its way to your sweet spot.

A light giggle falls from your lips as his mustache tickles your ear. You know Fred is enjoying this but he won’t touch you further until you allow it.

“Freddie” you moan and feel him smirk against your neck.

“Yes smuk” he mumbles against your skin as goosebumps begin to form.

“I need you” you moan out softly. Before you even finish getting the words out your shirt is off, his large hands finding your breasts, easily cupping them in his palm. His movements are soft and gentle as he waits for your response.

He massages your breast in one hand; gently rolling the nipple through his finger. You gasp at the feeling, them being slightly sensitive from the pregnancy. Fred eases his touch but doesn’t pull away; his mouth dipping down to suck on your other breast.

Your back arches in response soft moans escaping your lips. You expect him to continue down your body but he continues to work on your breasts for a few more minutes. You feel your cunt dripping your hands finding his hair. Instead of tangling your fingers in his hair you try to push his large frame down further and earn a deep seeded chuckle from him.

“Someone’s eager” he mumbles against you; soft curse words fall from your lips. His hand slides down your body slipping inside your pyjama pants. His fingers graze over your folds coating them in your juices. He smirks against your breast “very eager eh” he jokes feeling your wetness.

His large hands easily push your pants down your legs, they bunch just below your knees. He continues to suck on your breast while his hand caresses up the back of your thigh. He gives your ass a squeeze, pulling your body down the bed until your pussy finds his thigh.

He flexes his muscular thigh, your pussy trembling on him. You begin to slowly roll your hips in search of more friction. Fred lets out a soft moan at the feeling of his muscles pressing against your throbbing clit.

His hands find your hip, rough fingers digging in, encouraging the motion of your hips. His lips still wrapped around one of your hardened nipples. Breathy whimpers leaving your mouth as you grind your hips against him; earning a few low groans from him. Your moans turn to whimpers needing more contact.

“Fred please” you whine voice thick with need and desperation.

He releases his mouth from your breast and slowly trails down your body. When he reaches your pelvis he sucks hard likely leaving a mark; his nails digging into your hips. He hooks your legs over his shoulders his mouth places soft kisses on the inside of your thighs.

His arms wrap around your waist, pinning you to the bed as he bites up your thigh. Your head falls into the pillow and your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Even though he has barely touched you the anticipation almost has you going over the edge.

You gasp when his lips finally attach to your clit, placing some soft kisses on your folds. He pulls back, lips ghosting barely a centimeter from your skin causing your hips to buck up. Fred flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up; a dark groan leaves Fred’s throat tasting your wetness. Your back begins to arch but his grip tightens holding you to the bed.

His tongue slowly slips inside your walls and your hands tangle into his messy locks, gripping tight to the scalp as his tongue moves in and out of you. Your thighs tighten around his head, Fred groaning under you. His nose presses into your clit as whispered curse words fall from yours.

He flicks his tongue inside you, curling in your walls. His teeth gently graze your folds; you breathe out a fuck as the coil in your abdomen gets painfully tight. You aren’t sure if Fred heard you or if he can sense it, until you hear him hum in response.

You tremble knowing you are hanging on the edge, “I’m gonna cum” you manage to pant out. You feel Fred smirk below you but he doesn’t let up, continuing to fuck his tongue in and out of you.

Your eyes squeeze shut as the coil inside you snaps; your orgasm washing over you. Fred works you through your high groaning as you flutter around his mouth. An incoherent noise leaves your lips the heels of your feet digging into his back. Finally you come down from your high Fred’s tongue slowing. You are breathless as your eyes flutter open looking down to meet Fred’s gaze. His mouth releases your swollen bud and he drops your legs; pulling your pyjamas back up your legs.

He slowly crawls up your body, your juices dripping from his beard. He places a trail of soft kisses up your chest. Your hands release his hair sliding down to his beard pulling his face to yours. You guide his mouth to yours moaning when you taste yourself.

His tongue slides in but before you can deepen it you hear a cry over the baby monitor. You pull apart with a groan; Fred’s head turning to the screen.

“I think he’s still asleep” Fred says after a couple minutes “got a couple more minutes” he mumbles against your neck. He falls beside you pulling you into his chest while your head turns to look at him. He softly brushes your sweaty hair from your forehead.

“I’m sorry for yesterday” he says softly “and more importantly seven months ago.”

“I know” your lips gently press against his.

“If something bothers you please tell me” he says and you smile lightly in response. “And if you need to talk about what happened more, bring it up. No matter what.”

“I will, promise” you smile

“No matter how uncomfortable it’s better for us to talk these things through now then let them stew inside.”

“I know” you nod against him. Fred smiles down at you and brings his lips back down to yours. You gently play with the baby hairs on the nape of his neck. The kiss is soft and slow; his tongue swiping inside your mouth. When you pull away Fred’s forehead gently presses against yours.

Your hands gently play with his beard, a wide grin glued to your face. Fred crawls beside you his hand finds your stomach “any movements yet?”

“I’m only 13ish weeks babe” you laugh “that probably won’t happen for another five weeks or so.”

“I know I just love the little kicks” he places another soft kiss on your cheek when you hear another cry from the nursery.

“I got it babe” he whispers crawling out of bed. When the door closes you find your shirt knowing your time in bed will be ending soon. You hear the nursery door open on the monitor, and your gaze meets the screen. You feel your heart skip a beat watching Fred.

He pulls Noah from his crib, blowing a raspberry on his stomach. Noah’s little laugh is loud enough you can almost hear it down the hall.

He engages in a random conversation with him while changing his diaper and getting him ready for the day. Before he finishes Lucas stirs in his crib and Fred turns his attention to him repeating everything with him. After finishing he leaves the nursery and you hear his footsteps on the hardwood and the door slowly creaks open.

The twins faces light up when they see you and Fred crawls back into bed handing Noah to you. “Hi buddy” you smile pressing a kiss to his cheek. The four of you lie in bed, Noah babbling away on your stomach; Fred’s arms wrapped around the two of you.

You all lie in bed, you curled up beside Fred the twins crawling over you. You and Fred fall into an easy conversation the twins cooing around you. Lucas is sitting on Fred’s chest and you laugh when Noah sits on his face. It’s an easy morning; something you didn’t get when Oliver was this young. When he was around this age you and Fred were in separate apartments. It was during the span when you weren’t sleeping together; and your interactions were sometimes awkward.

You grab Lucas from Fred’s chest and Fred grips Noah’s waist lifting him off his face. He puts him on the mattress and begins to tickle your son, his little laugh erupting. His laughter echoes off the wall getting louder; it’s so loud you almost don’t hear the door creak open. You look over and see Oliver yawning in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. He slowly climbs up in bed beside you.

A large grin spread across you face watching as Fred wrestles Oliver into the bed and tickles the boys. Their laughter fills your bedroom and your heart watching your four boys. You rub your hand over your stomach smiling, knowing soon there will be another baby making your king sized bed seem even more crowded; just the way you like it.

Next Chapter

#because two people got drunk #frederik andersen #Freddie Andersen #fred andersen #frederik andersen x reader #frederik andersen fic #frederik andersen smut #freddie andersen smut #freddie andersen fic #freddie andersen x reader #fred andersen smut #fred andersen x reader #Fred Andersen Fic #nhl fic #NHL Smut

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snow-leopard-777 · 5 years ago

Text

In The Darkest Hour

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was not, despite what most would claim, a normal girl, nor did she lead a normal life. Chloè had once claimed that the bakers' daughter held more secrets than Fort Knox, whatever that was. Though she wasn't entirely wrong. Marinette did hold many secrets. Family, friend, random stranger, it didn't matter who talked to her. Unless you were a member of the conversation, not a peep was to be heard about it from Marinette.

As much as it occasionally annoyed them to be unable to get gossip from the girl, the entire class greatly appreciated the girl's talent for secrets. When Chloè, Kim, Max, Alix, Nathaniel, and Juleka needed someone to talk to about being LGBT, Marinette was their only pick. The group quickly became close, Marinette asking their permission to tell the other LGBT classmates to talk to them about it. None of their other classmates could figure out why the group was so close, for which they were extremely greatful.

Kitty Section was created under Marinette's careful selection, the girl gathering those that had shyly admitted to their preferred method of making music and introducing them, one on one, to Luka and Juleka for consideration of the band they wanted to create.

The one thing the entire class knew about the rest of their classmates was one thing that were in perfect agreement with: Marinette Dupain-Cheng was an odd individual, and no one wanted her to snap. Especially after the appearance of le Papillion. Many of her classmates worried about their secrets, as so very little was known about the girl. Though the class didn't realize it, the only students that did not fear Marinette's akumazation revealing their secrets were the LGBT kids, as Marinette had not only admitted to possibly being either ace or demi due to her lack of attraction to anyone, but they also knew she was keeping secrets before she knew how to talk.

As they gave the girl more and more secrets, she became more and more isolated. No one was willing to give up their confidant, but those that she didn't trust with a secret of her own began to avoid her unless they needed a conversation kept quiet. Marinette simply smiled a small non-committal smile every time they spoke to her while Madame Bustier nodded approvingly at the girl.

A delicate peace existed in the class. Marinette's friends were all extremely protective of her, especially after they learned just why the girl was so secretive. Everything came to a head when Alya suspected Marinette knew the identity of at least one of Paris's heroes after seeing Chat Noir enter a room at the end of his timer- and Marinette walk out seconds later.

In retrospect, Alya could have chosen a better place to confront Marinette than in the school classroom, interrupting Bustier's lesson so that the girl couldn't run away.

The bluenette, of course, denied knowing who Chat Noir was. Alya, however, refused to let up- her blog was at stake, after all.

"C'mon, Mari!" Alya whinned, ignoring the classroom's collective flinch. No one was allowed to call Marinette Mari, new girl or not. "Be a good friend! Do you know what you could do for my blog?"

Marinette glared at the girl. "It's always about what I can do for you, isn't it?"

"Marinette! That was too harsh," Caline scolded her student. "You're supposed to be the example, not the problem starter! She just wants a little help with her career!"

Marinette glared at the teacher. "I said that I don't know the identity of Chat Noir. She kept pushing, insistent that I did even though all she knows is that he entered a room shortly before I exited it. I remained in front of the door until Chat Noir let me know he was properly recharged and left. She wishes to know a secret he would die to protect despite his and his cousin's protests against her stalking them."

"That is highly uncalled for!" Caline scolded. "One should never be judged for curiosity."

"And one should never be judged for the keeping of ones secrets, so be they keeping their own or others'. She's lucky that they haven't filed restraining orders or complaints against her. She could easily be sued for invasion of privacy, charged with jail time for stalking, or have charges brought against her for posting un-consented photos, of minors no less, on a public forum without any kind of authorization- not to mention some of her theories could be considered slander and defamation of character." Marinette retorted, the majority of the class shocked by her sass. The quiet girl usually refused to speak when challenged about her secrets; she had never fought back before (Sabrina was surprised, but more because of Marinette's legal jargon. Perhaps she should attempt a friendship with the girl instead of fearing her closed-off mannerisms). Only a select few that remembered her as a child with no filter (Chloè, Kim, Alix, and Nino) or visibly held no regard to authority figures (Juleka) remembered the old Marinette. The Marinette from before her aunt and uncle's deaths. The Marinette that allowed people to call her Mari.

Irina Karasuma, neè Dupain-Jelevac, adoptive daughter of Gina, had disappeared off the face of the planet when Marinette was eight years old. Six months after her disappearance, the Russian woman was presumed dead- along with her husband. Karasuma Tadaomi was Marinette's favorite out of her adoptive relatives, and everyone knew it. He was the one that taught her how to fight, how to defend herself. He also taught her how to cuss someone out, in French or Japanese, and make them thank her for it. He was the one that taught her just how important secrets were from the moment she was born. Irina taught her, very reluctant, niece how to use her looks to her advantage, the art of flirting, and about seven different languages (plus how to flirt or cuss in many others). By the time her favorite family members vanished (not dead, never dead, they couldn't be dead), Marinette was able to speak nine different languages, not including her mother tongue, plus sing beautifully.

Two weeks after Bustier assigned her detention for standing up to Alya, Marinette found a strange box on her desk, a fox tail amulet and a strange little pocket fox contained inside.

🍯

Adrien Agreste hit record on his phone the second Alya interupted class. He didn't plan on being defended, had only hoped to get a good laugh to share with Felix, until Marinette spoke up. If he weren't so good at acting, Adrien wouldn't have been able to keep the tears from falling. He knew, without a doubt, that Marinette knew his identity- and Ladybug's as well. She hadn't quite managed to close her eyes in time when he detransformed in front of her. The girl had simply pulled out her lunchbox when Plagg mentioned Adrien forgetting his Camembert at home, offering the kwami her own.

"Let me know when your good to go." Was all the girl said before walking out of the room, the sound of fabric sliding against the door letting him know she was leaning against it. Several nerve-racking minutes passed before Adrien announced that he was transformed. He watched the door slightly shift forward as she got off it, though the door never opened.

He had waited days for the girl to spill. Yes, he was well aware of her reputation. However, he was almost positive that his was too big of a secret to keep. After seventy-two hours of nothing happening, Adrien tracked down his cousin and visited Master Fu.

Master Fu had frowned at him. "We will watch her and see how the situation pans out. If she proves herself enough, I may give her a Miraculous of her own."

The next day, Adrien walked into the massage parlor with the recording of an absolutely unaware Marinette verbally attacking a classmate for trying to pressure her into spilling the secret.

The Guardian had watched the video contemplatively, analyzing the girl. "I think I know the perfect match." He finally said once the video was over. "But I am unsure… it has been several centuries since a true match for her surfaced."

Adrien left more confused than ever, though forgot about the strange encounter once his cousin saw the video. All of Adrien's being was suddenly focused on keeping Felix from taking legal action as Ladybug against the blogger.

🍯

Marinette stared at the small goddess. The fox stared back, then smirked.

"Most kits freak out when they see me." The fox commented.

Marinette smirked back, "I'm not most kits."

"Hmm. We'll see. My name's Trixx, I'm the Kwami of Illusion. My main power is Mirage, we'll be able to see if you can use any other power after we work together for a time. You have five minutes after using my power before you transform… until your an adult."

"Okay. Does this come with a catch? Do I have to fight akumas?"

Trixx grinned ferally. "Nope. All you have to do is not use my Miraculous for evil."

"Good. I think Kitsune would prefer to take out human criminals and night akuma over missing school."

Trixx nearly purred at her newest holder's words, eyes sparkling with pride, "That sounds perfect." It was brilliant for her kit, this one might even grow to be a full fox, to use a name of different origin to mislead people. Who would think a half-Chinese girl would use a Japanese name?

🍯

Marinette transformed with Trixx for the first time that night, fiddling with her weapon before ever leaving her room. She had a flute, the mouth piece pulling out to reveal a sharpened blade on the end, barbs set strategically down the blade so that it would catch without letting go. She slowly pulled the rest of it apart, each one leading to a blade of some sort. The middle had two blades, one on each end, while the others only had one- lengths varying.

It didn't take more than a second to find the phone-like use, the girl calling Chat Noir to meet her at the Trodacero with Ladybug.

The two heroes beat her to the meeting spot, Huli Jinn joining them after learning how to move around as a Miraculous user. Her dark silver cloak settled around her, shifting and blending with the shadows.

Ladybug eyed her suspiciously. "Who are you and what do you want?" The blond demanded.

Kitsune smirked at him. "Call me Kitsune. I'm the holder of the Fox Miraculous. I thought it best to let you know I was active before you mistook me for an akuma." She lowered her hood and pushed the cloak back, revealing her appearance. Her dress was silver with blue ribbons and sleeves. The skirt had slits up both sides to prevent it impeding movement and the skirt and sleeves were removable- not that the boys knew that. A pair of loose silver pants and black combat boots hid under what most assumed to be a dress. Her Miraculous stayed tucked under her outfit, her mask matching her silver theme- excepting the orange curled fox tails on either side of her mask.

Chat visibly brightened. "So you're here to help us?"

"Not exactly. You two are heroes. You fight akuma no matter when or where they occur. I'm a vigilante- I'm focusing more on keeping the average Parisian safe. If an akuma occurs at night, I'll help you out. But you're on your own during the day. I have school, and I know you do too, but I'm already on thin ice with my teacher, and I have work I have to do. You guys can sleep at night while I keep an eye on things."

Felix eyed her. "Why is your name in Japanese?"

Marinette blinked at him. "My favorite uncle was Japanese. He taught me many things before he vanished a few years ago. I don't know if he's dead or not, I hope not, but I wish to honor his memory and all he taught me."

Chat grinned even brighter at her. "Are you a Honeypot?" He demanded. He only knew one of those, and if she was… "Master Fu said he might give you a Miraculous!"

The other two heroes eyed the cat. "How do you know who I am?" Marinette demanded.

Felix stared at the two. "You're the girl that knows who we are." He dumbly stated.

Marinette huffed. "Yes, I know who you are. Not that anyone would ever learn that for sure."

"What are you going to do about sleep?" Felix demanded. He refused to be the cause of another person being irresponsible about school.

Kitsune waved her hand through the air. "I can exsist perfectly well by sleeping on the weekends and taking naps throughout the week. Foxes are at their peak at night anyways."

"Didn't you just say you're on thin ice with your teacher?" Ladybug demanded. Chat Noir simply looked highly concerned.

Marinette raised an eyebrow, though Adrien beat her to speaking. "Our teacher doesn't like her right now because she defended my hero persona against a classmate. Our teacher is all for Mar- sorry, Kitsune keeping secrets until those secrets could make someone else rise to the top. She got detention for protecting my identity and defending herself against the girl pestering her."

Felix narrowed his eyes. "So the teacher punishes victims for defending themselves against a bully harrassing them?"

"I wouldn't say that-"

"Yes." Kitsune interupted. "The teacher shows no care for the emotional state of a person being attacked, only for the well-being of the more agressive person. She has had several complaints filed against her, though no action has been taken. My allies and I are getting ready to go to the school board if nothing changes soon."

Felix nodded once in acknowledgement. "Good. I shall retire for the night, Chat, you should do the same. We miss enough sleep as it is." He turned around and muttered under his breath, knowing his cousin could hear him, "And you need to explain to me what a Honeypot is."

Marinette bit back her laugh, fully aware that Felix didn't know her Miraculous also came with heightened senses. "Goodnight, boys."

🍯

Adrien landed in Felix's bedroom, having laughed at the boy the entire way there. Their transformations fell even as Adrien teased his cousin. "Need me to explain what a Honeypot is? Didn't you say that I was the one who was sheltered? That I don't know anything if it's not in an anime?" Felix glared at his cousin. "Okay, fine! A Honeypot is someone who can lure their prey in by their looks and actions, and once they catch what their after, they can make their move. Marinette's aunt taught her how to be a Honeypot when she was little."

Felix eyed his cousin. "What anime did you learn it from?"

Adrien made several insulted noises before Plagg finally outed him.

🍯

Nearly a month later, Caline Bustier and Damoclès were told to pack their bags. The head of the school board called in a favor from an old friend in Japan. The principal had demanded to be allowed to bring one of his teachers with him. She quickly agreed. François-DuPont suffered a hit with the removal of the principal and a teacher for negligence. Hopefully their replacements would help nullify that hit.

Asano Gakushuu laid his phone on his desk before buzzing for Nagisa. He started speaking before Nagisa could even properly shut the door. "I know you were planning on moving to Paris with Akabane when he got shipped off as an ambassador. I'm not going to try to change your mind." The again went unspoken. They both knew exactly who his best teacher was.

Gakushuu was always surprised when Nagisa spoke to him- the boy had always been so silent. He hadn't learned until after they started working together exactly why Nagisa was the way he was. "Why did you call me?"

Gakushuu huffed. "Here's the deal. An old acquantence of mine called in a favor I owed her. She recently fired her principal and one of her teachers, and needs a suitable replacement for both. She asked me to take over, I agreed on the stipulation that I got to bring one of my teachers with me."

"Where at?"

"François-DuPont. It's a school in Paris. Instead of struggling to find a new teaching position in a country you are unfamiliar with, you can join me at this school. It's not far from the embassy, so you would still be able to meet Akabane for lunch or whatever."

Nagisa raised his eyebrow at his friend. "You do know that Karma prefers his first name for a reason. We're twenty-six, and have been friends since the end of cram school. Your rivalry should be dead by now." Gakushuu shrugged. Nagisa let out a heavy sigh. "What's my class like? How did the teacher I'm replacing run it?"

"I don't know how accurate my information is, all I have is what the superintendent knew. But the teacher and principal were terminated due to neglecting the students"

Nagisa facepalmed. "End Class bad? Paradise High bad? Or relatively alright?"

Gakushuu shrugged. "Possibly some combination of the first two. They did have one competent teacher for science and math. The terminated teacher was supposed to teach them almost everything else. We won't really know until we get there and assess the situation. They want us there ASAP."

"Of course. I'll tell Karma. Get me the school's address so that we can plan housing."

"I'll forward you all the information by the end of today. Use today to tell your students the news and pack. I'll begin the transfer paperwork. Do you have tickets to Paris already booked?"

Nagisa gave Gakushuu a bland look. "Karma and I leave for Paris this coming Monday. You need to focus more on your own paperwork, mine should be nearly completed."

Asano would never admit that he had been putting off Nagisa's paperwork for as long as possible in hopes that he would stay. Nope, not at all.

🍯

Marinette kept an eye on the new teacher as soon as he arrived. They had been stuck with different substitutes for nearly two weeks while waiting on him to arrive and all the paperwork to go through. The name Shiota Nagisa rung a distant bell in her mind, though she struggled a little with remembering where, exactly, she had heard his name.

"Greetings, everyone." His French was passable enough, though he had a noticable Japanese accent to Marinette's trained ear. "My name is Shiota Nagisa, though you can all call me by my given name. I hope we have a good year together." He offered them a small bow.

Marinette rose to her feet. "Greetings, Nagisa-sensei. I am Marinette Dupain-Cheng, class representative. Thank you for coming to teach us." She offered him a bow in return.

Nagisa gave her an approving grin even as Rose hesitantly spoke up. "Didn't he ask us to call him by his given name?"

Kim explained before Nagisa could. "His name's switched around, like mine! Last name is first and first name is last!" Kim boasted. "The new teach is like me!"

Nagisa hummed appreciatively. Le Chein Kim understood the basics, but not the proper terminology. "A little rough, but basically correct. Though I do not appreciate the interruptions. In Japan, a person's family name is given first and their given name second. It is considered rude to address someone by their given name or a nickname without permission. Dupain-Cheng-chan, please stay after school so that we can discuss the class."

"Yes, Sensei." Marinette acknowledged.

"Now, in Japan, different honorifics are used to address someone. Here you use madame, mademoidemoiselle, and monsieur. It's a bit more complex in Japan. If you were to speak to an adult, you call them by their family name followed by -san. For example, a friend of mine also lives here. You would address him as Akabane-san. You would address females your age or younger by adding -chan to their surname, males with -kun. People in the grades above you would be addressed as -senpai, which can also be used for someone with more experience. A teacher, doctor, someone in a roll ment to educate someone is addressed as -sensei." Nagisa spent the first day explaining to them the cultural differences between Japan and France, flashing back to Bitch-sensei's less than conventional methods proving their usefulness. Several of his new students seemed to understand the different cultures very well while others seemed to let everything fly over their heads.

The day finally ended, Nagisa ushering the students out so that he could finally learn just what he was dealing with. "Dupain-Cheng-chan, would you please explain to me how the class was run prior to my arrival? The principal and I were given minimal information about why we were being brought in."

Marinette slightly inclined her head. " Please, call me Marinette. My surname is a mouthful. Caline Bustier was our former teacher. She let bullies run rampant and punished the victims if they stood up for themselves. One of my classmates is obsessed with uncovering the identities of Paris's heroes. The teacher never warned her of all the legal action that could be taken against her for basically stalking underaged people. Césaire was convinced that I knew one of their identities and interupted the class to hound me about it. I denied any knowledge of who they were. She pressured me, insisting I knew and called me by a nickname I do not use. I told her off, the teacher scolded me and gave me detention.

"The former principal wasn't any better. He was easily controlled by people in a place of power, allowing bullies to rule the school even as he brushed an complaints about his teachers under the rug. I was chosen as class representative because my classmates trusted me to know better than anyone just what they wanted or needed without airing their secrets to the world. I am also one of the only students who was not afraid to tell Bustier and Damoclès that they were acting like imbeciles. My class is accustomed to not being able to rely on an adult in charge to handle a situation for them- especially if that situation is hostile. Now days they either handle it themselves or come to me."

Nagisa nodded. "If you wouldn't mind, I would like to began taking some of that responsibility off of you. It will take time for us to learn how to work together, but I assure you that I am not like Caline Bustier."

Marinette eyed the new teacher. "Anything my classmates tell me in confidence will stay with me. But I will attempt to speak with you about the class when needed."

Nagisa inclined his head. "That's fair. I would expect nothing less. What can you tell me about the class? I can't move at mach twenty, nor am I a verifiable genius, but I would like to be able to give all of my students what they need. I was under the impression that I am in charge of everything except mathematics and science?"

Marinette nodded. "Juleka, Mylène, and Nathaniel are all very reserved and shy. Juleka and Nathaniel prefer to hide in the background and let others shine. Mylène is okay as long as there's someone she's comfortable with nearby. Ivan is quiet and has a few anger issues, though he's pretty good at controlling himself as long as le Papillion is inactive. Kim has trouble focusing on class and retaining the information, he does better when he has something to do. I've been making him study with me, letting him practice sports, parkour, that sort of thing while I call out information and question him on the materials. He's not at the top of the class, but he is usually in the top ten. Alix can focus better than Kim, but also learns better when she has something to do. Césaire has a tendency to ignore the materials when the teacher is covering them in favor of working on her blog. She expects someone from the class to share their notes with her later on so she can pass. Sabrina takes care of helping Chloè study, since Chloè learns better with technical terms. Every now and then Sabrina calls me in for help for a particularly difficult subject because, where French sometimes fails, making Chloè learn the material in a different language works every time. Nino learns through music. Everyone else learns relatively well in the class and can mostly interact with new people. Adrien said his cousin's considering transferring in, he's asocial, not big on people, but smart."

"Thank you. I'll see what I can do about helping Le Chein-kun and Kubdel-chan have something interactive during class to help them. Do any of your classmates find music distracting?" Marinette shook her head. "Then I'll ask one of my former classmates for help with making a playlist to help Lahiffe-kun learn the material. What would you suggest to stop Césaire-chan from being on her blog during class?"

Marinette hummed contemplatively. "As long as she has an electronic, she's going to check it. Especially since she knows a few of our classmates will give her the notes."

Nagisa nodded. "I'll have her give me her phone before class. Would you do me a favor?"

Marinette eyed the teacher. "That depends on the favor, Sensei."

"It's nothing bad." Nagisa promised. "I'm just used to students being unwilling to help. I feel your classmates are more likely to listen to you right now than me. You have their trust, I do not. Would you be willing to ask them to stop giving Césaire-chan their notes? It would be different if she were missing class, but she's just not paying attention. She needs to learn that there isn't always going to be someone to cover for her."

Marinette blinked, surprised. "Of course, Sensei."

Nagisa considered the girl. "You have a Chinese and French heritage, yes?"

"I do."

"Where does the grasp on Japanese culture come from?" Nagisa questioned, deeply curious.

Marinette offered a small smile. "My family is very complex. My grandmother is the equivalent of an Italian gypsy and has a penchance for adopting people. My adopted aunt, Irina Dupain-Jelevac, married Karasuma Tadaomi. He taught me many things, including Japanese culture, before they went missing a few years ago."

Nagisa's mouth fell open. "You're related to Bitch-sensei? And Karasuma-sensei?"

Marinette snapped her fingers. "I knew your name sounded familiar! My aunt told me about her attempt at being a teacher and how much she struggled with it. She had a lot of pride in your class. Tadomi-oji-san did too, he was just better at hiding it."

Nagisa stared at the small girl. "They told you about us?"

Marinette shrugged. "A little, yeah. Is that all you needed, Sensei? I need to get to work."

"Y-yes, thank you. Have a nice evening, Marinette-chan."

"You too, Sensei." Marinette called as she walked out the door. She found something in her relaxing slightly with knowing that the new teacher was taught by her uncle. Though she did wonder how Adrien, and possibly Felix if he transfered in, would escape to fight daytime akumas.

🍯

Nagsia flopped on the couch once he got home, startling his husband. "Sup, Nagisa?" Karma asked. Nagisa smiled, even after over a decade his husband hadn't changed from the time they were at Kunikagawa. He even continued elongating his name.

"Guess who my class rep. is related to?"

Karma raised an eyebrow. "I literally have no idea."

"Karasuma-sensei and Bitch-sensei."

"What the fuck?" Karma lost all attempt at feignig disinterest, bolting straight up.

"She's French-Chinese, Italian grandmother. The grandmother adopted Bitch-sensei before she married Karasuma."

"How the hell did you figure all this out?"

"I had her stay after class to get a feel for the class. I was called in to replace a negligent teacher, so I wanted to know exactly what I was working with. After we were officially done, I asked her where she learned so much about Japanese culture, as she seemed to already know what I was teaching today. I was already thinking about Bitch-sensei and her teaching methods before she explained how she was adopted by Karasuma-sensei- as a niece. Apparently they talked about us."

"Holy fucking shit, talk about a full circle. How much does she know?"

"That's the problem, I have no idea. Nor do I know what they taught her." That was more worrying than how much she knew about their past.

🍯

Marinette texted Chloè as she walked. *Césaire's notes privileges have been revoked until further notice, excluding absences.*

*I was waiting on you to snap on her. 🙃*

*New teacher's rules for her. Former Class 3E- 🗡️*

*😮 …………… Trust?*

*With caution.* Marinette pocketed her phone as she walked in the bakery. She could give a good two hours in the bakery, design while cooking supper, and then take a quick nap before patrol.

#mlb #mlb x ass class #Assassination Classroom #Miraculous Ladybug #Shiota Nagisa #Akabane Karma #teacher Nagisa #Fox Marinette #Ladybug Fèlix #Good Fèlix #Félix Graham de Vanily #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #In The Darkest Hour

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questingtheworld · 5 years ago

Text

Living The Fantasy - Chapter Two

AO3 Link | Find previous chapter(s) on tumblr here.

Story Summary: Meeting royalty, falling in love, and living happy ever after were the things Hollywood movies were made of…or happened only to the Meghan Markle and Daniel Westling’s of the world. Rylie Martin was neither made for the silver screen nor one of the lucky one percent—that is, until a bachelor party entered the bar she worked at one fateful night. Even after a magical meeting and love in the air, Rylie knew getting that fairytale ending wouldn’t be easy. But nothing could have prepared her for what awaited her in Cordonia.

Pairing: Liam x MC

Chapter Title Inspiration: My Wish - Rascal Flatts

Word Count: 3,805

A/N: I always wondered why the guys didn't join Liam and MC at the table in the club, and why it was Drake that had stayed with Maxwell the following morning. Those thoughts are the inspiration behind this first intermission!I've put in some foreshadowing to some future plot points, hope I didn't make them too obscure lol

* ~ * ~ *

First Intermission: My Wish For You

My wish for you is that this life becomes all that you want it to

Your dreams stay big, your worries stay small

And if you're faced with a choice, and you have to choose,

I hope you choose the one that means the most to you.

“Tell me why we can’t go sit with them again?”

Drake will admit that he had enjoyed himself when they had first come in—the club had the atmosphere of a Beaumont Bash, which he liked because it wasn’t a fancy ball, but without the pretentiousness, which their parties always had because they were still all rich, entitled people underneath it all.

However, he was never a party goer to begin with nor was he a robot who could dance the night away without pause. He wanted to sit down by the sidelines with his small group of friends and drink some whiskey while he relaxed. Every time he tried to look around for where Liam went off to, though, Maxwell would distract and otherwise prevent him from doing so. Either Maxwell had a good reason for stopping him or he was up to something, and Drake was going to find out what it was.

“I—I never said we couldn’t! Just…aren’t you having fun? The drinks are flowing,” Maxwell gestured towards Tariq who was in deep conversation with the bottle server, “And the women are beckoning!” As discreetly as Maxwell could, he jerked his head to the trio of ladies who were dancing nearby them.

When Drake locked eyes with one of them they winked at him and he gave them what he hoped was a smoldering look before returning his gaze to Maxwell. “I hate to admit that I am having fun, but it’s not like this is all going to go away if I sit down for five minutes.”

Drake tried to side-step him to search the tables for Liam but Maxwell got in his way again. “Okay, maybe you’re right, but I might get into trouble while you’re gone. You know I can go from zero to sixty like that.” Maxwell snapped his fingers.

Several first-hand experiences could attest to the validity of that, and if Drake was honest with himself it was half the reason he was still out there on the dance floor with them. He was always protective of his friends—something he liked to think he got from his father—but sometimes Maxwell needed…special attention lest he drag them all into a mess Drake couldn’t pull them out of. But Maxwell was an adult, and he wasn’t his keeper.

And he just really needed a break.

“Well good thing Tariq’s here to keep you company,” Drake offered, clapping him on the shoulder.

Maxwell gave him a deadpan look and Drake slowly removed his hand awkwardly. Okay, maybe that was a weak excuse. They both knew that Tariq would either crumble under the pressure of trouble or bolt in the other direction…or crumble and then bolt in the other direction.

“Look, Maxwell, I’m not your babysitter or your bodyguard. If you really don’t think you can handle yourself for five minutes I’ll keep you in my line of sight, okay? If worse comes to worst I promise I’ll bail you out of jail.”

“You’re a true friend, Drake,” Maxwell said, placing a hand over his heart as if he was touched by Drake’s words. Still, even as he said that he moved to block Drake’s way again. “But maybe if you could stay just a little while longer…”

Drake frowned and crossed his arms. “Okay, what are you up to, Maxwell?” Maxwell opened his mouth to protest, but Drake continued before he could make a sound. “Don’t bullshit me. Your excuse was good but not that good. And you’re being way too persistent, even for you. So spill.”

Maxwell raised both hands up in surrender and took a couple of steps back; it was times like this he was reminded why he was glad Drake was on his side…most of the time. His mind wandered to a very likely scenario where Drake would probably wipe the Beaumont name off the face of the earth but he was pulled back to the present as Drake took a step towards him, closing the distance he created. “Look, it’s not what you think…or maybe it is what you think but it’s a good thing!”

“Maxwell…” Drake’s tone held a not-so-subtle hint of a warning.

“I—oh!”

Drake noticed Maxwell was staring at something behind him, and when he turned to follow his gaze Drake saw Liam and Rylie wrapped in a tight embrace. At Maxwell’s small cheer, Drake whirled back around to face him. “You’re trying to hook them up? That’s why you’re keeping me from going over there?”

“It’s not that I think you’d kill the vibe…too much…but who would want to interrupt that?”

Drake frowned as he watched Liam laugh. “Uh, me. I would very much like to interrupt that right now.”

Maxwell looked up at him with a mix of shock and horror. He had thought for sure that Drake would join him on his quest once he realized what he was up to. “What?! Why?”

“You can’t honestly think getting them together is a good idea.”

“Again, why?”

Drake crossed his arms. “First of all, Liam’s not even a one night stand kind of guy, which I know you know about him. Which means you’re trying to get them together, which is incredibly cruel to the both of them considering we’re leaving tomorrow to get him engaged to someone else.”

It was Maxwell’s turn to frown now. “It doesn’t have to be ‘someone else’…” he mumbled.

Drake snorted. “Right, because the court will really let some random woman from New York come in to vie for their future king’s hand in marriage. And what if she’s some gold digger? She’s a stranger, who would vouch for her? Then if she somehow managed to get in she has no idea what she’s in for with those people. She wouldn’t last one day.”

Vouch for her… A plan began to form in Maxwell’s head. “Apart from Olivia, Liam knows those women about as well as Rylie…maybe even less than now. And do you really think they want to be the next queen just out of the goodness of their hearts, that their families don’t want the prestige that’d come from getting their daughters hitched? I bet she’s tougher than you think.”

“Why are you defending her?”

“Why are you attacking her?”

“I’m not—” Drake cut himself off as he ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. He had to admit Maxwell had a point, but this wasn’t some fairytale; Liam couldn’t ditch it all to follow his heart like his brother did. And I’ve seen firsthand what court will do to someone who doesn’t belong…

There was a tense silence for a few moments before Maxwell shifted awkwardly. “Look, they’re both adults, they can make their own decisions. And Liam wouldn’t lead her on, either; you know that, too. Just…give him one night. One night out of the rest of his life.”

Drake looked back at Liam and Rylie, saw how in awe and happy and himself he was with her, and sighed in defeat. “Fine. But if this backfires—”

“Heads will roll, specifically mine, I got it!” Maxwell interrupted him excitedly before starting to dance again and beckoning him to do the same. “Come on, Drake. Show off those moves!”

“Another bottle of champagne!” Tariq yelled as he sauntered over to them, swinging the empty bottle in his hand as he danced. “Who knew we’d find a decent vintage here?”

Drake lost track of time as he drank and danced with his friends (and a couple of women), but eventually he seriously needed to sit down for a breather. After swearing on a kraken that he wouldn’t go over to Liam and Rylie’s table, Drake sunk into a chair at a table on the opposite side of the dance floor as them.

It wouldn’t hurt to just look and check up on them, right? Drake asked himself as he took a sip of his champagne. Surely that wasn’t going to break his ‘contract’ with Maxwell. Discreetly, his eyes slid over to where he knew their table was…only to find it empty. Drake immediately sat up in his seat, his heart stopping for a moment. Okay, okay, there had to be a reasonable explanation for what was happening that didn’t involve kidnapping or injury or death.

As calmly as he could, Drake reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out his phone, both surprised and relieved to see a notification for one unread message from Liam. Perhaps he didn’t hear the noise over the music or feel the vibration with all his dancing. Hurriedly he opened the group chat.

“Hey guys, before you start to panic I wanted to let you know that I am safe and sound.

Rylie presented me with an opportunity I just could not refuse.

And no, Drake, she did not coerce me into it.”

Drake huffed at the callout—Liam knew him too well—before continuing to read.

“Our location has been given to our driver; he will take you to us when you guys are ready.

Please do not rush to leave on my account.

I want you all to enjoy this moment. It is as much for you as it is for me.

See you soon.”

“Hey, you got the texts too?”

Drake looked up to see Maxwell and Tariq standing by the table, phones in hand.

“Liam, you sly dog you,” Tariq said approvingly. It was clear what he thought had happened.

“He sent it twenty minutes ago.” Maxwell looked back at the message. “Do you think that’s enough time for him?” He suddenly looked up, eyes wide, as Tariq elbowed him with a laugh. “I mean, not for that…at least I don’t think they left for that—”

“How about we just go to the limo and meet him…wherever they went,” Drake stopped Maxwell before he finished that embarrassing sentence. “If he’s not…ready…we’ll wait.”

After paying off their tab and summoning the limo, they were on their way to the location their driver was given. Drake spent the majority of the ride questioning the driver of how Liam seemed when they spoke, whether he was ‘being held at gunpoint’, both literally and figuratively. But the driver was confident that everything was on the up and up, and that Liam even looked excited.

Not long after that the limo slowed as they arrived at their destination, and Drake was the first to get out and take in their surroundings. Quaint little shops, darkened to show they were closed, lined both sides of the street; ahead was a pier, and to the right of the docks were the makings of a large park. In the muted quiet of the night the gentle waves of the water could be heard, but all in all there was not sight or sound of Liam or Rylie.

“What could they possibly be doing out here?” Maxwell asked as he came up beside Drake.

“Are we sure this is the right place?” Tariq questioned, and Drake approached the driver to pose the same inquiry to the driver.

“This is the location I was told to go,” the driver confirmed, and the three men mulled over what that could mean.

“Perhaps the driver was given the wrong place to throw us off? Give themselves more time alone?” Tariq suggested, his eyebrows going up suggestively.

A scowl appeared on Drake’s face, thinking something more dark than dirty, and Maxwell hurried to calm him down.

“How about we trust them, trust Liam,” Maxwell added, seeing Drake readying to start arguing about Rylie. “Let’s just wait here for a little while.”

Well, it wasn’t as if they had any other leads to go on. So, they waited. As they neared the ten minute mark, they noticed lights coming in from the water—a boat. And soon after that, two familiar figures could be seen walking from the docks and up the pier towards them. But they hadn’t noticed them yet, so Drake cupped his hands around his mouth as an amplifier and yelled.

“Liam!”

The couple stopped and looked towards them before waving. As they turned to each other and talked, Drake didn’t miss how they held each other’s hands.

Neither did Maxwell, who came up to clap Drake on the back. “See, have a little faith.”

Drake grumbled something, which was as close as an apology as Maxwell was going to get. “What are they doing? Why won’t they come over here?” He frowned as a minute turned into two, deepening as he saw Rylie nod at him and Liam turn to look, seemed to laugh, before they continued to chat.

“Seems like you made an impression,” Maxwell teased, but before Drake could say anything Liam was heading towards them—alone.

Before they could say a word Liam spoke. “Let’s go before I change my mind.” Without breaking his stride Liam continued on to the limo and got in without looking back.

Drake and Maxwell shared a look before they followed after him, but they, along with Tariq, waved goodbye to Rylie before getting into the vehicle. Things were silent for the beginning of the ride back to the hotel, Liam gazing out of the window lost in thought, before Maxwell cleared his throat. Despite Drake’s frantic hand signals to not say a word, Maxwell said something anyway.

“So…did Rylie not want a ride home or…?”

The fisted hand that was holding Liam’s head up against the window twitched. “She believed it would bring unwanted attention towards me.”

Liam’s wording caught Drake’s attention. “Towards you? Not herself?” That didn’t make any sense. Why would that even be a concern? Unless… Drake gasped. “Liam, tell me you didn’t…”

Maxwell and Tariq’s gazes kept shifting between Liam and Drake, not following. “What are we missing here?” Maxwell asked them.

Liam sighed as he closed his eyes. “I told Rylie that I’m the Crown Prince of Cordonia.”

A stunned silence followed Liam’s confession.

Maxwell was once again the one to say something first. “That’s…wow. Wow, okay, that’s out there now. How did she take it?”

“About as well as you are taking this news, actually.” Liam chuckled softly as he opened his eyes again and shifted to face his friends. “At least at first. Then she treated me like a normal person as if I’d never said anything. It was everything I could’ve hoped for.” And more, but what happened after that was between him and Rylie only.

“Well, I trust she’ll keep your secret,” Tariq said in support.

“Yeah, well I don’t,” Drake said under his breath.

“Then trust me,” Liam replied, hearing him despite the low voice Drake had used. Liam had always appreciated the way Drake never held back with him, but Drake had been testy where Rylie was concerned all night and Liam found it unwarranted. “She told me to pass along how much of a pleasure it was to meet everyone. I told her it was likewise; I hope I have not lied to her.”

That was the second time someone told him to trust Liam, including the man himself. Didn’t they understand that it wasn’t Liam he didn’t trust? “I’m just trying to protect you, Liam.”

Liam smiled ruefully. He knew Drake was coming from a good place, which was why he usually didn’t mind when Drake got like this. “I know you are, but I don’t need you to be your father, Drake. I just want you to be my best friend.”

Drake nodded—it meant a lot to hear Liam say that, especially after hearing how his father couldn’t have the same relationship with King Constantine that Drake had with Liam— but said no more.

“So…what else did Rylie say?” Maxwell prodded after a few peaceful moments when it seemed safe to bring their waitress up again.

“Oh!” Liam perked up as he remembered—something else that did not escape Maxwell’s eyes. “Rylie told me to tell you that she said ‘I said what I said’. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Does it mean anything to me?” Maxwell parroted incredulously. “She’s like a walking meme enactor! I can’t believe I missed that!”

“She did say you’d be sad you weren’t there for it.”

“Rylie knows me so well already.”

As Drake looked out the window, much like how Liam was earlier, his friends’ voices faded into the background until all he could hear were his thoughts. He had been too vocal about Rylie without any proof. A huge part of him felt justified in his actions, but there was a small part of him that felt guilty. While he tried to reconcile his feelings one way or another, Drake wondered if there was even a point to his inner turmoil.

After all, it wasn’t as if he was ever going to see her again.

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

The next morning, as the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen of their suite, Drake scrolled through his phone, checking for any mention of Liam in the news or on social media. Even though running into Rylie was no longer an issue, she knew information that could blow up on them at any time. It was something best exposed while it was still fresh, but nothing yet.

Perhaps it’s still early…? Drake thought as he absentmindedly reached for the coffee pot, only for another hand to grab it before him. “What—”

“I didn’t take you as someone who’d be glued to their phone,” Maxwell said as he poured himself a cup.

“And you’re usually not up until the afternoon,” Drake ribbed back. “What gives?”

“I indirectly asked first,” Maxwell grinned impishly.

Drake rolled his eyes but relented. He wasn’t going to play Maxwell’s childish games and he had nothing to hide; that would imply he was doing something wrong, which he totally wasn’t. “Just making sure no surprise scandals or hordes of paparazzi were waiting for us outside the door.”

Confusion spread across Maxwell’s face. “Why would—” Then it dawned on him. “You think Rylie sold us out, sold Liam out.” Drake’s silence was a deafening answer. “And? Did she?”

Drake was reluctant to answer as if he was almost upset that he was wrong. “…No, but that doesn’t mean she won’t in the future.”

“And pass on the perfect opportunity she had to be in the morning news? Not to mention how easy it would’ve been for her to be seen in our limo, which she refused last night.” Maxwell retorted. “Just admit that you’re wrong about her, man.”

Drake stubbornly shifted against the counter he was leaning against. “That remains to be seen.”

Maxwell once again continued speaking as if Drake hadn’t said anything. “…Just as I’ll humbly admit that I was totally right for choosing her!”

Drake was almost afraid to ask. “Choose her for what?”

“I’m so glad you asked! It’s actually the reason I’m up so early. I need your help.” Maxwell rubbed a finger under his nose and took a quick glance at the closed doors of Liam and Tariq’s rooms before leaning in closer to whisper to Drake. “I’ve decided to sponsor Rylie so that she can contend to marry Liam.”

Drake actually spat out his coffee. “You what?” he hissed as he wiped his chin and turned to glare at Maxwell. “Have you lost your mind?”

“You actually gave me the idea last night; you’re right, she wouldn’t have been allowed into court otherwise.”

“That wasn’t—” Drake shook his head as that wasn’t the point. “Why her?”

“Why not? We’ve proven she’s not a gold digger, and she handled us pretty well, so I think she’ll do just fine against the other nobles. But more than that…didn’t you see the way Liam lit up around her? Even just mentioning her name would bring a smile to his face. I haven’t seen him like that since…like, ever. That’s more than good enough for me.”

“Life isn’t that simple, Maxwell.” Drake sighed before dragging a hand down his face. “So, what exactly do you need my help with? Seems like you already figured everything out yourself.”

“I can’t do this alone, but I can’t ask Tariq! You saw how he and I acted around her; we’re totally out of our element. And I obviously can’t ask Liam. You, though, she looked to you for normalcy. You can vibe with her—”

“Because we’re both commoners?” Drake finished for him, raising an eyebrow as if challenging Maxwell to argue otherwise—he didn’t. “That sounds like a ‘you’ problem, not a ‘me’ problem,” Drake dismissed as he moved towards the living room of the suite.

“I know you won’t do it for Rylie, and you probably wouldn’t do it for me, but doesn’t Liam deserve this?” Maxwell called after him, and Drake paused. “You’re his best friend. Don’t you want him to be happy, to at least have the chance to be happy with her?”

Drake wanted nothing more than for Liam to be happy. He couldn’t think of anyone else who deserved it more, who deserved the whole world at his feet not because of his lineage, but just because of him as a person. But this…

Before Drake could answer, the door to Liam’s room opened, and Liam rubbed an eye as he yawned, coming to a stop in the space between his two friends. “I knew I heard voices out here. What’s up?”

Maxwell stared at Drake’s back for a moment longer before plastering a smile on his face as he moved his attention to Liam. “I was just saying how I’m gonna take a later flight back to Cordonia.”

That woke Liam up more than coffee could. “Oh? By yourself?”

Maxwell opened his mouth, but Drake answered before he could make a sound. “No. I’ll be with him.”

Drake didn’t understand why it had to be Rylie out of everyone in the entire world, didn’t understand what it was about her that captured people so, and he didn’t think he ever would understand. But this wasn’t about him. Maybe he couldn’t take the weight of the crown off Liam’s shoulders or protect him in all the ways he wished he could, but if accompanying Rylie back to Cordonia was all he needed to do to bring happiness to his best friend, he’d do it. No question.

“We have some unfinished business left here.”

The rest was up to her.

#playchoices #the royal romance #trr #trr fanfic #the royal romance fanfic #drake walker #maxwell beaumont #king liam #liam rys #tariq #long post #marie writes #living the fantasy #bonus scene: tariq walks out of his room and steps into the puddle of coffee drake had spit out.#hilarity ensues as he laments over his designer slippers

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