#taking it for further research and messes up their sleeping schedule | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fablekitty · 1 year ago

Note

Hey, I know I am the last person you wanna talk to rn, but my life is in genuine danger (still) because all I wanted was for a apology for the misconception.

I honestly meant no harm at all, and https://www.tumblr.com/lunarsilly/725681668334256128/all-i-wanted-was-for-fable-alologize-for-the

If you read this it will make a lot more sense.

I’m low empathetic and it takes a while for me to feel epmathy, and I think it’s hitting me like a bus

I never meant for you to be harassed anything (as I said in my OG callout posts) and I have not ONCE put your life in danger.

However, Davis has put mine in danger cuz he took some things I said in the wrong manner and it has caused me to get harassed to the point where I have to deactivate most of my accounts.

No, this isn’t ‘karma’ at all because I didn’t even want anything bad to happen to you and I didn’t mean to be malicious, all I wanted was for people to be aware that you could have possibly done this stuff, and benne like

“Hey, I have a choice if I wanna continue supporting them.” And unfollow if they please.

I have not once tried to put you or anyone else in danger, all I was doing was being like “hey, this can be seen as sams since you tagged it as such.”

Also to call you out for your ableism towards your own community.

That whole ‘no TSBS fictives and no factives’ rule is not only ableist, but it further Demonizes DID by saying that alters are their source when they aren’t,

People had a choice to support you, and I hadn’t meant for it to become this huge thing because a mess up in my wording )which I mostly wrote them at 1-5am, mind you. There’s going to be some mistakes since I was obviously running on 2-4 hours of sleep, and I always apologized if I said anything wrong in Davis’s DMs)

I get why you’re upset but this whole thing has gotten me death threats and it has also put not only me, but my family at risk.

Anyways that’s pretty much it, dm me on this app if you wanna respond.

This whole situation began because instead of trying to talk things over with me, you instead chose to cast a stone at me publicly. I’m not unreasonable. I would gladly have clarified anything you were concerned about, whether it be the claims of ableism or concerns about Lulu’s design. Instead, you publicly accused me of being a pedophile, not once, but twice. Which. I won’t lie; is a VERY harsh accusation that shouldn’t have ever been tossed out on a whim. The first was in a comment thread on one of Davis' posts, the other was a public callout post. You cannot downplay it by saying you just wanted to 'spread awareness' and 'let people choose to support me.' All I wanted to do was be left alone, and you wouldn't have it.

You took my art and made fun of it, called me names, called my partner’s alter names, and tried to make connections to an accusation that wasn’t there to begin with. I have co-workers that follow my SFW account on Twitter. I could have lost my actual job over this. You losing your Twitter account is not comparative to my entire livelihood. You can say you never wanted me to be harassed, but you slandered and insulted me all over Twitter and Tiktok during the entire duration in which this all played out, not to mention all of the posts and videos about me being ableist and treating me like some sort of class traitor.

I only spoke out about it when I was at the end of my rope, which you also mocked and slandered, and thus the harassment continued.

Davis reached out to me about it because after doing his own research, he saw it as unfair that I was being falsely accused of something that could literally ruin my life and career and put my safety in danger.

I didn't ask him to post it, and I certainly wouldn't have asked him to take so much time out of his busy schedule to research and write that entire google doc. All of the accounts he posted there are public socials, all of which have the Lunarsilly moniker attached to them somehow. He's never really talked to me much if at all outside of this situation.

As for the comments made towards people who were clearly against you, entirely unnecessary. If you wanted people to stop and leave you alone then you should have never responded. This stirs the pot and makes more trouble, it also makes you look bad.

I can't convince people to stop attacking you, despite telling them not to come after you in my last tweet about this situation. I can't order Davis to remove your socials from the google doc. All we can simply do is drop the subject and move on.

None of this would have happened if you just came to me first instead of airing out dirty laundry into public places where you were fully aware I was in. Next time you think you've been wronged in some way, instead of acting out, take a step back and breathe. Walk away from the computer/phone and clear your head so you can think straight. That is my absolute best advice to you.

I understand that you're only 15 and probably have some stuff going on at home, and the last thing I want is for anyone to get hurt. Death threats and doxxing are wrong in general, let alone to a teenager, and if you're reading this and have done either of those things to Lunarsilly, I am incredibly ashamed of you.

As for the damage? My alter is traumatized by the claims you've made. My early design of Lunar was never canon. His design belongs to me and I can use it however I please. He is not canon show Lunar.

Speaking of Alters, I want to address the ableism thing.

Once again, all this stress could have been avoided if you’d have just come to me privately on Discord when this was first addressed. I asked you politely to please keep alters of real people from the show avoidant of fronting in the TSBS server. I asked this of you with the knowledge of what was written in the moderator handbook that each moderator must read and follow in TSBS, and had no idea it wasn’t written in the public rules. I will admit fault for not checking that. It was never my intention to come off as ableist towards you nor anyone else.

We didn’t just come up with rules on a whim. We put rules in place to try and keep everyone in the server safe and comfortable, systems and otherwise. Ultimately, the bottom line was that some of the voice actors from the show found discomfort in seeing alters of themselves and their characters in the server, and the business that owns the whole shebang also agreed, and their word is final.

I entirely understand the frustration behind having alters from the show. I have a few of them myself and so does my partner. Yes, they are not their source. But that doesn't prevent the original creators, or actual person from being uncomfortable, much like some alters are uncomfortable with doubles. Everyone's system is different. Mine isn't large. It's not small either, but my alters all do have one thing, a mutual agreement to work together and harmony. If that's something you can't control, then I'd recommend staying out of larger servers such as TSBS.

I was also never obligated to tell you that I'm a system. I don’t exactly go out of my way to make sure every individual who interacts with me is aware of this information about myself. However, if you ever took a moment to look in my discord profile, you would have known. The first line that is on my profile on Discord is “Marshmallow System-DID” and it’s been there this entire time.

All I want is to be left alone. I want this all to finally be dropped so we can move on with our lives. I’m old and tired and simply do not have the time or energy to keep putting towards this situation. Just please, move on and leave me be.

44 notes · View notes

voidtouched-blue · 1 year ago

Text

Forgotten-contract--prior

He was as ignorant as the Miqo’te who looked up at him with a question obvious in starlit eyes. “I’m not sure if this will help, but-“ Last chance. “-I don’t… I don’t want to see you hurting, if I know I can assist.” Being near her did nothing to quell the violence in his chest, it did nothing to change the balance of his aether - yet somehow that deathly candle burned brighter, higher, stubbornly clinging to the empathy that had been woken in dead nerves. Pride was his sin, and he was proud to help her.

Four wounds treated, only six more to go.

The skin tingled after she had finished the last jagged line when she heard him answer her concerned question. It made sense that a man of his nature would have a more controlled schedule than she. For someone who had spent the last year fervently researching with little sleep to be had until her body could take no more, it sounded nice. Though, she wasn't likely to slow down her pace unless there were matters that truly needed her attention... like her current condition. There was no way she'd be able to make sense of any of her notes at this rate.

She nodded in response to his comment about food. Unaware that he had stepped away for a moment, she took the time to give her skin a break before she reached into the healing ointment again. This wasn't the worst pain she'd ever felt, but it was the worst experienced in a few years. Nothing lasted, but the scars did serve as a horrific reminder of her lack of control. Even as far gone as she was, she knew that nothing would wipe the memory of that anguish that struck deep at her heart. In the moment, while she still had that relative calm, at least her gift wouldn't plague her.

With the bodies now buried, the emotions had slowly gone to follow.

Why didn't I just...ask for help? Did I really need to do this myself?

Yes. They were after me. It's my responsibility to clean up the mess, no matter how painful.

She let out a sigh.

Cyra had learned the hard way that nobody would keep picking up the pieces of her delicate state for long. It wasn't up to them to take care of her. Life was hard. Her life was hard, and she didn't need to lay that weight on anyone else. Even one who has known as much pain or more... he had enough of his own life to worry about.

“-I don’t… I don’t want to see you hurting, if I know I can assist.”

"..I don't want to see you hurting,.."

How sweet.

Cyra turned lazily on the stool to get a better look without moving the delicate, ribboned skin on her shoulders too much. Despite the exhaustion that painted her face, she still smiled at his kindness. It was genuine, not a polite gesture as it normally would have been. She posted her arm closest to him on her knee supporting her relaxed posture with a gentle wobble.

Her half-lidded eyes squinted at the object in his hand. The unmistakable energy that hummed from it required no further sensory investigation. She blinked, tilting her head gently to the side in curiosity. She stared at it for a moment, before trying to focus her gaze on Silvaire as he had stood closer than before.

Don't accept it. You don't need help. You've done just fine this far without it.

Yes, but...he's genuinely concerned. If it looks that bad from his perspective, then maybe I should-

"A-are...you ssure?" She couldn't help but to ask. "I haven't done muschh more than take ffrom you ssince we met..."

It was with a smile and a wave of his hand to dismiss her concern. He offered it to her again, and she knew she couldn't refuse twice. It would be rude.

"...I-" she blinked slowly as she looked from the crystal that sat in her hand to the tall lord. "-Thhank you."

She felt that wounded heart in her chest flutter at his generosity.

Once again, as she had done in the bath at his manor, she held the crystal close to her chest and closed her eyes. Feeling that refreshing warmth wash over her to at least fill more of that empty well than simply waiting would have. With the emptied crystal still clutched in her hand she used it as a conduit to further draw in a small sample of the Forest's bounty. It's the same trick her body knew to use when injured during those moments where she would lose control and that Garlean-made creature would surface. Though, when she had her wits about her, the cost was far less wasteful. The incomplete experiment would simply bleed her energy dry.

It just needed to be healed enough to avoid movement reopening the wound, and to calm those frayed nerves. Even as she used a sparse amount, the whole ordeal through the night had left her exhausted. She set the empty crystal in her lap as she turned to keep her back to him. Untying the sleeves of the loose shirt, she finally had put it on properly. Manipulating her aether had tired her, but her limbs didn't feel as heavy as they had been.

"Much better." She sighed.

Cyra moved to stand, keeping her hand on the side of the basin to steady herself. Her tail flicked, gently smacking her guest in the leg as it swung out to correct her balance.

#thread: voidtouched studies #ffxiv verse #ic #[[A GIFT 4 U SAH]]#[Aspects of Black and White]

277 notes · View notes

bella-studyblr · 3 years ago

Text

Task Management:

Creating + Maintaining a Schoolwork Schedule

Key elements

Your schedule suits your individual time/task management preferences.

It is flexible enough to accommodate sudden changes, plus fluctuating energy levels, states of concentration, symptoms and moods.

Daily tasks are not over-whelming; they are small enough that they are achievable.

You do not get “burned out.”

It allows you to be consistent.

Steps to create your schedule

Decide if you want your planner to be paper or digital

Find an “order” that’s logical and achievable for you (more on this later)

Refer to your addendum/syllabus and write down all the assignments, tests and other events taking place that week/month (and their due-dates).

Then break these down, assigning tasks to each day of the week (more on this later).

Break down your tasks even further (more on this later).

Decide if you want to follow a simple daily to-do list or a timed schedule (more on this later).

Find your “order(s)”

Mandatory: Schedule assignments around other commitments (work, social, hobbies, etc.).

Do the hardest task first to get it out of the way (so that the rest of your tasks are less daunting, and because your smaller tasks require less energy therefore can be done even after completing the hard task).

Do the easiest task first to build momentum (give yourself a feeling of accomplishment which will motivate you to continue, and boost your self-confidence early in the day to establish a positive mindset for the rest of the day).

Do the task that’s due first to minimize deadline stress, and so your assignments don’t fall through the cracks (causing you to get discouraged and lose momentum).

Plan according to your energy level throughout the day and week: Do you have Pilates once a week? Maybe you can reserve that day for easier assignments. If you know you’re going to be tired for whatever reason, account for that in your planning.

Consider your state of concentration: If you know you’re too groggy or spaced out for the first hour of your day, you can either schedule easy tasks in that time, or none at all. If you take a medication in the afternoon/evening that makes you tired, schedule easier tasks or none, and get harder tasks done earlier/later in the day. If you have ADHD and crowded places mess with your concentration, but you like studying at a café, go when it’s not busy.

Be mindful of your emotions and symptoms: If you have depression, or are prone to depressive episodes, you’ll need to consider that when scheduling. You might have to rework your entire schedule when you get into a depressive episode (like adding lots of breaks). If suddenly you’re going through a big life event (like a breakup), you need to account for that when scheduling. For instance, if you can’t stand to be alone, maybe you can go out instead of staying in, and if your motivation is low, you may need to up your reward-system or break down your tasks even more.

Break down this week/month’s tasks

Refer to your addendum/syllabus and write down all your due dates for the time period you’re scheduling for.

Based on due dates, outside commitments, predictions of energy/mood/symptoms, assign assignments to the days of the week/month that make most sense for you.

Break down daily tasks into sub-tasks

You can do this (in advance) for your full week/month’s assignments, or do it every morning/evening.

Generally, your assignments will follow a variation of this formula: brainstorm, create an outline, research, write rough draft, edit and revise. Test/exam prep will look something like: check to see what the test is based on, pinpoint important sections, review to see how well you know the material, create a list of items to study, rewrite select notes, make flash cards, study topic 1, study topic 2, etc.

What are the individual components of these steps? Here are some examples. Brainstorm: what should my topic be, what should my thesis be, what points can support my thesis, what do I need to research, what questions do I need to ask my prof? Outline: topic, thesis, points, conclusion. Research: write down all the important parts from each source (separately), then sift through to sort into Supporting Point 1, Supporting Point 2, etc. Rough draft: opening statement(s), intro, point 1, point 2, etc., conclusion, closing statement(s). Edit/revise: read and check for grammar only, then read again and check for spelling only, read again and check for cohesiveness only, etc. Topic 1: Part A, Part B, etc.

Each of these small components can be individual items on your to-do list. Big tasks like, “write essay” are too big for most people. Even “write rough draft” is daunting. If you start with something specific and small like brainstorming, and work your way up, it’s a lot easier to approach. Plus, being able to check off tasks more often and more easily will boost your confidence and your sense of competence, thus building momentum.

Here is a sample to-do list: Research X for Point 1 of Literary Essay, create outline for History Essay, Edit/Revise Assignment 1, study Topic 1 and Topic 2 for Test 1.

To-do list or time-based schedule?

To do list: Write down all your assignments for the day. Put them in the order you want to do them, or go through them intuitively (based on what you feel like doing, or what’s most practical at the time/place you’re at).

Timed-based: Write down all your assignments, then write down the time you’re going to do each of them. You could set reminders or alarms if you want, or simply refer to the list. There’s an awesome app I recommend if this is your thing. It’s called Structured (iOS only).

Curate your study environment for maximum focus

Eliminate distractions such as uncomfortable clothing, sounds (or silence), phone and computer notifications, clutter in the room and on your desk, people who may try to talk to you (shut your door and/or inform them that you’re busy).

Designate a space to doing homework only and avoid spaces that you associate with other things (do not study in bed, as you will want to relax or sleep, and/or you will mess with your sleep by weakening the bed’s association with sleep).

Build associations: Incorporate other events and items into your study/homework routine that you only use while doing that, so that you associate those things with studying/homework (examples: specific playlists, pencils/pens, cups/bottles, scents, rituals, decor, etc.).

Ensure good lighting (preferably including daylight).

Get dressed in clothes that make you feel good about yourself. They don’t have to be “professional” and they should definitely be comfortable. Do not stay in your pyjamas. Believe me, I know this can be hard, and I love PJ’s. But they are not good for productivity.

Don’t “multi-task.” It may feel like you’re getting more done this way, but by splitting your focus, not only do tasks take longer, they also diminish in quality. Commit to the task you’re doing.

Meditate: You can even meditate for just 1-5 mins right before studying, homework and/or classes.

Practice self care (daily!)

Sleep (enough, well, and regularly).

Daylight: Get outside, work by windows, use a light therapy box. These can help regulate your sleep, improve and maintain mental health, and boost energy.

Fresh air: Getting outside even for a couple minutes can help you refresh and reset, and feel good about yourself and your life. Fresh oxygen can help you wake up and is great for your health. Even just opening your window can do a lot for your mood, energy and motivation.

Movement: Try to move at least once per day. The benefits of exercise are numerous and immense.

Healthy and consistent eating: Avoid spikes in insulin levels by eating regularly so you don’t have extreme dips in your energy level. Also, brain power uses calories too, so make sure you’re eating consistently, and try to eat healthy. There are so many other reasons eating consistently is good for your health (and by extension, your productivity).

Relaxation and leisure: Make time for fun and socializing, as well as intentional relaxation. Hobbies, movies/tv, time with friends/family, meditation, baths, progressive muscle relaxation, etc.

Therapy: Your therapy sessions are not daily, but you can do 5 minutes of inner-work per day based on what you and your therapist are currently working on. Working with a therapist is a great way to stay on track with your goals, and develop the skills and positive mindset required for success in school.

Reward yourself

Track progress: Reflect on all the assignments you’ve completed and your grades to remind yourself that you’re capable!

Completing to-do lists daily maintains a sense of accomplishment which keeps your momentum going. Check those items off! Or give yourself gold stars! ⭐️

Treat yourself with non-food rewards: Tie completed school work with fun tasks like video games, or take yourself out for coffee, or some other small (non-food) outing. What I’m trying to do right now is not do my leisure activities until my daily tasks are done.

Develop a positive mindset

Take promises you make to yourself seriously. The more you break promises to yourself, the easier it will get to continue breaking promises. You will lose respect for yourself which lowers motivation, and you will lose trust in yourself which can become debilitating as well. The more you keep promises, the easier it will get, the more motivated you’ll become, and the more you’ll trust and respect yourself. Your confidence will improve, and you’ll feel better about yourself. Productivity is choosing yourself. Discipline is choosing what’s best for you instead of what you feel like doing in the moment. Discipline is a muscle, and like any muscle, it can be strengthened, and it can atrophy.

Remember your “why.” What is the end goal of being in school? What’s your career path, and why did you choose it? What will your life be like when you have that career? What would your life be like if you gave up and didn’t make it to your goal? Aiming for your dream while running from your nightmare is a great strategy for maintaining motivation. Lighting a fire under your *** can be a huge motivator.

Remember how good you feel when you get schoolwork done, and let this motivate you to stay consistent. You can also remember how you feel when you don’t get work done, but definitely focus more on the positive!

Go to therapy and/or hire a coach. There are SO many benefits to therapy and I’d honestly need a whole other post to get into it. You don’t need to be depressed or mentally ill at all in order to benefit from talking to a therapist. They can even help you with time management, procrastination, motivation and more! If you can afford it, please do it. It’s such a worthwhile investment.

Be consistent

No “zero days.” Do at least a bit of homework or studying every day so you don’t slip into vacation mode. Make schoolwork a daily part of your life, so it just becomes the norm.

Build productivity momentum (track progress, check items off your to-do list daily, treat yourself, keep promises to yourself, remember your “why,” remember how success feels).

Stay on top of projects. Your assignments are made up of smaller tasks you assign yourself across time. “Success is the sum of small efforts repeated day in and day out.” - Robert Collier

Avoid burnout (more on this later).

Keep it interesting (more on this later).

Avoid burnout

Self-care: shower and/or bathe regularly, maintain proper sleep habits, stay hydrated, take care of your skin, do relaxation activities like meditation and reading, do fun activities, pamper yourself every now and then with face masks or foot baths, take your meds as prescribed, eat well and regularly, get outside often, move daily, etc.

Break up study/homework sessions into small, manageable chunks of time, with constructive (refreshing) breaks in between.

Break assignments down into even smaller tasks so that you aren’t over-working yourself during the course of a day, and so that you don’t overwhelm yourself (the stress can lead to burnout).

School-life balance: Keep up with your social life as best as you can, make time for your hobbies, maintain self-care, say no to things that don’t serve you, etc. Try to follow through with scheduled schoolwork 100% of the time, but know that you won’t. Sometimes you’ll need to prioritize mental health over schoolwork (be careful though, this is a very fine line, and a slippery slope). Sometimes things will come up and it’ll be out of your control. But more than anything else, there will be times when you just decide to prioritize something else like fun and socializing over schoolwork. This is why your schedule needs to be flexible: to accommodate sudden invites to hang out and random decisions to skip a homework/study session, but more importantly, flexibility will reduce the odds that you’ll skip in the first place. If your schedule includes hobbies and socializing, and anything else that’s important to you, then you won’t feel deprived. If you have school-life balance, you’ll have more of yourself to devote to schoolwork when it’s time to.

Keep it interesting

Romanticize your life by putting effort into making all of your daily tasks a special occasion.

Make meals and drinks special by using your favourite dinnerware and cutlery. Perhaps even incorporate extra elements such as: a beautiful tablecloth, napkins, candles and/or dim lighting, music, wearing your favourite clothing, etc.

Pretend you’re the main character in a movie about a successful, productive student (because you are the main character in your life).

Make games out of studying if this is something that interests you (the Forest app comes to mind).

Use lots of colours in your notes and buy colourful stationary! 🌈

Vary your approach/methods if needed to avoid boredom.

Study with friends (online or in person).

Reward yourself often.

Remember your “why.”

3K notes · View notes

noteguk · 4 years ago

Text

a little while | kth | m

↳ inspired by the song “a little while” by yellow days.

— summary; in which Taehyung realizes that he was wrong in thinking that being friends with benefits with you wouldn’t backfire.

— contents and warnings; angsty smut!!, pretty much pwp, taehyung is emotional, fwb au, Taehyung x reader, protected sex, dirty talk (honestly like one sentence), unrequited feelings, kind of soft sex :( taehyung is whipped and sad about it

— words; 2k

— author’s note; I’ve been feeling kind of stuck with my other wips so I wrote this drabble to unwind :) idk if I plan to write more of it but who knows!!! My two functioning neurons are very unpredictable.

That was supposed to be easy.

That was all that Taehyung could think about: you two, whatever you had going on; that was supposed to be easy. It was the whole point of even starting something like that in the first place. It was the entire motive behind why anyone would ever accept a friend with benefits — no strings attached, no clingy calls, no emotional baggage. It was supposed to be a quick situation, convenient; Taehyung was supposed to see you every once in a while, maybe even forget about you, until he decided that he wanted to get his dick wet again.

It was supposed to be easy.

“Is this okay for you?” Taehyung asked, leaning a bit closer to your face. He loved staring at you like that: with your hair sprawled on the pillow and your pouty lips inviting him into a kiss. He had grown used to having you under him, and it had quickly become one of his favorite pastimes. “Want me to go faster?”

You shifted around under him, your hands moving up to rest on his shoulders. “It’s alright, I like it slow too.”

And he could only nod, because his mind was thinking too many things that he could not say. It was supposed to be fucking easy, but somewhere along the way, Taehyung had ruined everything. It was just a matter of time before the whole situation went up in flames and he managed to lose both his friend and what might just be the love of his life in one go.

Because Taehyung had broken the first and most important rule of having a friend with benefits: whatever you do, don’t catch feelings.

And now he was rocking into you slowly, sensually, actually making love to you instead of the way he usually fucked — fast, rough, with your loud moans filling his lungs until he found his high. It was ridiculous. He felt nauseous.

Worst part was that he was almost sure you didn’t feel the same — and the “almost” was because there was a small fragment of hope inside his chest that really tried to convince him that he had a shot. That maybe the way you looked at him showed something beyond hunger and lust. Maybe you actually cared for him. Maybe you wanted more and you weren’t brave enough to tell him.

“Actually, could you go a bit faster?”

Your voice shot him straight back down into reality. Taehyung only nodded, mumbling something that not even he understood before burying his face on the crook of your neck and raising the speed of his thrusts. The world around him felt suffocating and confusing, not even your honeyed moans against his ear could raise his spirit.

Still he tried to ground himself, his hands digging to your hips as he closed his eyes, focusing on the drag of your walls against his cock. The feeling was overwhelming, dizzying, earned a low groan from him as he continued to fuck you like you deserved to be fucked. Taehyung managed to pretend that everything was alright for exactly two minutes before you spoke up again.

“God, that feels so good,” you cried out. His cock throbbed inside you at your words, his mind spinning at the sensation of you growing tighter. Taehyung was obsessed with you in every way, completely enthralled by how your body reacted to his, so eager to feel more. “Want you to kiss me, Tae.”

You always asked that when you were getting close and Taehyung was always fast to do it. His lips were on yours before he could even think about it, his tongue crawling inside your mouth as he groaned against the kiss. God, he could make out with you forever, it wasn’t even a joke.

Taehyung was absolutely whipped and that was a problem.

He removed one hand from your hips and trailed it down your arm slowly, reaching your hand and intertwining his fingers in yours. He moaned against your mouth, feeling his orgasm building up on the base of his spine, and pressed your hand down on the mattress as he continued to bury himself inside you.

“Tae,” you sobbed his name so beautifully that he swore he could cum right at that instant. “I’m so close.”

“It’s okay, baby, you can let it go,” he said, his voice so deep that you felt it vibrating inside your chest. “I got you. Cum on my cock for me. Wanna feel you.”

And you did, because it was like the universe was mocking him about how perfect you could be. Taehyung groaned — both in pleasure and in frustration — as your pussy clenched around his aching cock, your thighs trembling on either side of his body while you cried out his name. It was a flawless melody composed just for him: your voice dancing in the air, the lewd sounds of your wetness as he continued to thrust in and out of you.

Taehyung, just to top it all off, committed the huge mistake of actually making eye contact with you as you came down from your high. It suddenly was too much: your hooded eyes, your parted lips, the blissful expression that covered your features. You were too much.

“Fuck, baby,” Taehyung cursed. He closed his eyes, paying full attention to his growing pleasure. “You’re so beautiful.”

He didn’t really mean to confess that out loud, but you didn’t seem to mind. You smiled, that gorgeous, drowsy smile you always gave him after he had made you cum, and Taehyung swore he was in heaven. “Are you gonna cum?” You asked, earning an eager nod in return. His hair was a mess over his eyes, sweaty and disorganized, covering his gaze as he looked down to see where the two of you met. You were made for him, your pussy was made for him, and he couldn’t take that idea out of his mind. “It’s okay, Tae, you can cum.”

Again, the universe was mocking him, because within a few seconds he was doing just that. Taehyung pressed his forehead against your shoulder and spilled himself inside the condom, wishing profusely — pretending, almost — that the latex barrier wasn’t there, and that he was filling you up with his cum instead, making you his. And that was enough to prolong his high a little further, his cock throbbing as he dove into that fantasy.

But, eventually, it had to end.

The silence that followed was thick and overbearing, but comfortable regardless. Most of the time it went like that: with the two of you basking in the afterglow of your orgasms, drowning in the heat of one another without saying a word. Taehyung did not know what went on inside your head, but he knew that he needed those few seconds of silence to reset his thoughts, to try and bury the emotions that ever so gradually started to build up.

Basically, he had to take a moment to remind himself that he had absolutely no chance with you.

You sighed deeply, your fingers diving into Taehyung’s soft locks. He had collapsed against your chest, trying to regain his breath and, at the gentle caresses of your fingers, you felt his heart leap inside his chest, pounding against your skin.

“That was nice,” you said daintily. He only hummed in agreement, worried he would slip and say something he didn’t mean to. “I have to go, though.”

Just like that, Taehyung felt like he just got stabbed in the fucking jugular. He whipped his head away from your chest faster than he could think (after all, he should’ve enjoyed a few extra seconds of boob time if he had the chance) and his mouth fell open for a moment before his words finally came out. “Don’t— Don’t you wanna stay the night?”

If you thought that his plea was desperate, which it was, you didn’t let it show. You smiled, leaning back to you could shift into a seating position on the bed. The two of you were facing each other then, so close and yet miles apart. “I don’t think I have the energy for round three,” you answered playfully.

Taehyung had two conflicting answers fighting in his head. The first one was that it wasn’t for sex, something along the lines of “actually, I might be in love with you and I don’t want you to go”; the second one was the one that you wanted to hear: “it’s okay, I’ll do all the work anyways”. And, yet, as the brave battle continued inside his mind, he was left to stare in silence as you jumped out of the bed and started seeking for your clothes.

“Besides,” you continued, “I have that research presentation tomorrow.”

Oh yeah, that stupid research thing. The reason why you had to schedule that Emergency Unwinding Session with Taehyung in the first place. His initial bliss, but his final demise. How poetic.

“It’s fine, I get it.” Taehyung watched your little wiggling dance as you placed your pants back on. He would’ve teased you about it if his heart wasn’t in absolute shambles. “Can I see you later tomorrow, then?”

You didn’t even hesitate to twist the blade. “Won’t happen. It’s Yongsun’s birthday and we are going to this fancy sushi bar downtown,” you said. The universe truly hated Taehyung and you were completely dressed by the time you leaned in to place a kiss against his forehead. “But we’ll figure something out. I owe you a third round.”

Taehyung forced out a laugh, trying to brush away the storm cloud over his head. However, he couldn’t even convince himself that he was fine. “Sure. We can figure it out.”

You hummed and ran your fingers through your hair, trying to make it a bit more presentable. “I have the copy of the keys that Jimin gave me, so you don’t have to worry about locking the door. Just go to sleep and I’ll lock it on my way out.”

Taehyung simply nodded because he seriously didn’t think he could say anything without completely confessing his emotions. They were so bottled up that he felt them building up in his throat, like a shaken bottle of soda about to explode.

“See you, Tae. Thanks for tonight,” you said on your way out of his room.

He responded with a timid, “See you,” that he was a hundred percent sure you didn’t even hear. A few seconds later, the sound of his front door closing was like thunder echoing around his empty room.

Taehyung sighed and threw himself back against the mattress, covering his eyes with the palm of his hand. He was so fucked. So fucking whipped. He just wanted to scream against his pillow until it all went away, but he knew that it wouldn’t. He couldn’t confess to you because he was sure that you didn’t feel the same, and he couldn’t let you go because he was selfish: he wanted you one way or another, even if he had to disguise his emotions and pretend that everything was fine.

He removed his hand from his face and stared up at the white ceiling, at the slices of moonlight that came from his open window. Taehyung decided that he would just continue faking that he was fine with the idea of being friends with benefits with you. But could he do it? Could he keep it up? For how long? Taehyung had endured those acting sessions for a bit too long then, and he didn’t know how much he could take before he reached his breaking point.

He groaned and rolled around on the bed. He just wanted to sleep.

That was supposed to be easy.

#bts smut #taehyung smut #smut #angst #drabble #pwp #taehyung pwp #taehyung #kim taehyung #x you #x reader #bts angst #taehyung angst #smut drabble #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #reader insert #bts x you #bts x reader

867 notes · View notes

officialsporkintheroad · 3 years ago

Note

“How long have you been standing there?” “Longer then you’d like” -Tomione

(A/N: it's only been, you know, over a whole ass year since I received this ask, but THANK YOU Kyoki again for such wonderful inspiration <3 hope you enjoy)

please feel free to send me prompts

She didn’t have long. Most of the students and professors were still in the Great Hall for lunch, but there was always a chance Riddle would leave early. It was risky, breaking into his office—the defense professor’s office, no less—and in the middle of the day, too, but it was the only real hole in the man’s schedule.

He was a notoriously early riser: among the first to arrive at breakfast and among the first to leave. Then he’d spend the rest of the morning either in his office or in his classroom. In the afternoons, he had back-to-back classes half the week and office hours the rest of the time. Weekends were spent catching up on grading, research, and paperwork, and he rotated between the library, his office, and the courtyard with enough spontaneity that Hermione couldn’t reliably tell where he’d be and when.

Except for during lunch.

It had been easy enough to fake a mild stomachache to get away from Harry and Ron. They wouldn’t understand—they liked Riddle. He’d wooed the majority of the Hogwarts population with flashy spells and displays of power, with his classic good looks and cool, mysterious demeanor. And true, there was no denying the man was brilliant.

But he made her skin crawl.

It wasn’t the sort of thing that had been apparent at first. Like the rest of the school, she’d been awed by him. The sheer breadth of knowledge he possessed was incredible enough, but to be able to utilize it so efficiently in a duel…to be able to flow from one spell to the next without so much as blinking, without a single uttered word. It was mesmerizing, like nothing she’d ever seen before. And on top of that, he’d been a good teacher: thorough and invested, tough but fair. Respectable.

It was just…there was something off about him. The more Hermione watched, the more certain she was. Maybe this suspicion had started when he had dispassionately demonstrated the unforgivables, face blank except for a raised brow as he cursed the beetle with the cruciatus. Or maybe it was before that, when he’d nearly smiled at a particularly brutal hex Malfoy had thrown at Hannah Abbot during a duel. Or maybe it was the emptiness in his eyes as he assessed them.

“You’re just pissed he gave you an Exceeds Expectations on last week’s essay rather than an Outstanding,” Ron had accused, and when she’d turned to Harry to see if he thought the same, he’d only shrugged.

She hadn’t argued it further with them. It was, after all, just a hunch. That’s why she needed proof. Which led her here.

Riddle’s office was unextraordinary. The walls were lined with bookshelves, packed with his own personal collection of academic texts. A large, flat stone sat off to the side—a resting place for his snake familiar—while the majority of the room was occupied by a hefty desk. On the whole, the room was simple, largely unadorned, and yet it still spoke to his character.

Intelligent with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. She quickly glanced through his bookshelves. They were organized by subject and then by author, and the topics spanned everything from runic warding to dark creatures to blood curses. Nothing particularly out of place for a man of his profession, though she noted there seemed to be an obvious preference for books of a darker nature.

Which is his job, a voice in her head that sounded annoyingly like Harry pointed out.

The presence of the warming stone seemed to indicate some care for the comfort of others, though Hermione had a hard time fitting that with the image of Riddle she had in her head. In fact, based on her observations, he seemed far more likely to revel in someone’s discomfort. She frowned. Perhaps his familiar is an exception. Still, he didn’t seem particularly…doting on the snake.

Not a matter of kindness or consideration, but of practicality. Yes, that fit better. The entire office was designed for efficiency. There was nothing extraneous: no texts that did not assist in academic research, no unnecessary wall décor or portraiture, no furniture aside from the desk and the two chairs—one for him, and one for visitors.

Even the chair is designed to be uncomfortable, she thought, almost a little amused. It looked new and to be in good condition, but it was narrow and thinly padded. Not the kind of seat you’d want to linger in. Encourages quick meetings.

And then the desk itself. A small calendar sat upon it—color coordinated, organized—alongside an inkwell and several freshly sharpened quills. A stack of graded essays was tucked off in the upper left corner. The rest of the desktop was cleared. Neat. Possibly intolerant of messes?

Hermione waved her wand over the desk, murmuring a slew of spells designed to reveal wards, barriers, and alarms. There were a few minor protections but nothing insidious. Of course not. He’s clever, too, and cautious. Nothing dangerous or truly secret is going to be kept in his office.

She wasn’t stupid. She’d known that this was a long shot, but she’d been hoping for…something. Something she could take back to the boys and use as leverage to launch a more in-depth investigation on Professor Riddle. Though she supposed it was difficult to find incriminating evidence when she wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for.

Quickly, she undid the easiest of the locking charms on the first desk drawer and peered inside. Ungraded classwork. Next. The second drawer contained sheet after sheet of handwritten notes. That’s better. Except that they were…complex, difficult to follow. One looked like half a potions recipe—some sort of…sleep potion, perhaps?—while another was filled with dozens of questions about the function of wand movements and what they added to spells, and yet another was a highly detailed theory on human transfiguration.

Hermione mentally revised her assessment of Riddle from brilliantto genius. It was one thing to acknowledge that Riddle was an expert—a prodigy, even—in defense against the dark arts and combative magic, but this…this suggested he was just as knowledgeable in a wide range of subjects. She flipped to the next page of notes and her brows raised even higher. Adding runic elements to potion-making to help negate the contradictory herbal effects…is that even possible?

Hermione swallowed a lump in her throat. If she was right about him—if her gut instinct was true—then Riddle was a phenomenally dangerous person. Detached, efficient, insanely smart, and strong, too. Combined with potentially questionable morals…She didn’t even really want to think about it.

A throat cleared, and Hermione’s head snapped up. She knew, even before she saw him, that it would be Riddle standing there, and her stomach churned.

“Granger.”

“Professor,” she returned, proud that her voice didn’t shake even if her hands did. He arched a single dark brow, the rest of his stupidly handsome face terrifyingly impassive, a silent demand for an explanation. “I was just—” She trailed off, realizing his notes were still in her hand. She wet her lips nervously. “How long have you been standing there?”

Stupid question. Stupid question. Stupid question.

He hummed. “Longer than you’d like, I’m sure.”

Slowly, gracefully, he stepped further into the room. And then, with little more than the flick of his hand, the door clicked shut, lock sliding into place.

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

His eyes—dark, emotionless, bottomless—locked onto hers, and a jagged smile so unlike the practiced ones he wore around the castle cracked his mouth.

“Oh Hermione,” he tutted, voice mocking. “What am I going to do with you?”

#tomione #tom riddle #hermione granger #minific #harry potter #professor tom riddle

106 notes · View notes

miraculousmarifan · 4 years ago

Text

Felinette Month 2020 - Day 12: Reunion

The prompts on @felinettenovember are gold and everyone should check out what the others are doing for this month!

Theirs are also most likely on time, and this one is only 3 minutes away from being posted on the wrong day... but it’s still the right day for me!

Approximately 3100 words of absolute Lila salt. Her character is poorly enough written in the show that I had to make her villainy almost cartoonish to a certain degree.

Also before anyone takes my word for it at the silk part, just know I have the bare minimum of knowledge about the intricacies of fabric as I’m just a data analyst. I did however read a really interesting article earlier this year discussing the difference in modern and ancient forms of fabrics (it was specifically discussing cotton, if I remember correctly) and how industrialization of fabric production had drastically reduced both the initial quality of the fabric and the durability. Which they were using as an explanation of why it’s still possible to find cloth artifacts in archeology, whereas it’s suspected that the “same” fabric now wouldn’t have survived due to the poorer quality. So I willy-nilly applied this logic to silk weaving. If you are an expert in this stuff and want to pass along actual knowledge, I’d love to hear about it.

Marinette had found that going to university for fashion design was both easier and harder than it had been doing it during school. There were similarities with the existence of homework and specific class times to schedule around. Working at a smaller fashion house had been another beast entirely. Marinette had been offered a 5 year contract as the only pupil to the head designer, working both with the team of designers and working apart from them. Her ideas first needed to gain the approval from the head designer before she could put them through peer review with the team. She was required to have her designs be closer to a final product before she would get approval to proceed to peer review than the designs of many designers on the team had after multiple reviews. Marinette kept her head high, as her designs often went through fewer changes in the review stage as a result of this additional standard.

However with less than 10 designers doing all stages of the process, from researching ideas and sketching to actually assembling the final product and altering them for the models that would wear it, they were always busy. As a result, Marinette found herself more devoted to work outside of their standard hours, sketching variations on most outfits for potential changes she thought may be suggested while she sat at home.

At 25, Marinette found herself married to her career, with only two nights per week that she had set aside for her friends and her family and refused to budge on that time. This had left dating relatively untouched outside of some short high school relationships and a few first dates that never went further.

Alya never could understand why Marinette was so content on her own. She married Nino at 22 and had been happy in her marriage, but she was able to have her career and her relationship. Sometimes her journalism interfered but often she would just finish typing up any articles or notes she had while home and returned her attention to Nino.

Marinette often didn't disconnect from her sketchpad until late in the evening and then she simply wanted to eat, relax a little, and sleep. Dating required too much effort and time during the week and she only had so much time on the weekends, especially because of the occasional work event on a Saturday night.

This Saturday was one such event, a black tie party in a ballroom, where many designers were getting together under the pretext of a party, however most realized it was an important networking event. Designers would be discussing the styles that were in currently, some boasting about what they expected the next trend to be, and many would try to woo the various models in attendance to sign on for a certain number of shoots or shows in the upcoming seasons.

Marinette knew that she had to show her best at this, as she was entering the fifth year of her contract and would need to get her options in order. She was determined to have at least one outside offer waiting at the end of her contract, so she felt more free to decide if her current company was the best fit.

She had invited Alya over before to help her solidify her outfit by reassuring her choice in dress and accessories, as well as providing suggestions with make-up choices as requested. Marinette really needed a hype woman to get her in the right mindset for dealing with pretentious models and designers for her entire evening.

The ballroom hosting this event was as decedent as Marinette had anticipated and each designer eyed the others' appearance critically. Many of the compliments bestowed on others were backhanded, in the most subtle manner possible. The more inexperienced often missed the jabs but Marinette had expected them. Her mentor had arrived shortly before her and gestured for her to join his conversation upon seeing her entrance.

For nearly an hour, her mentor paraded her around, introducing her to each designer he personally knew and discussing with them her strengths. She was grateful for his support when he could have easily left her to flounder. The designers that had taken a liking to her brought others to meet her the moment he left her side to fetch a new drink. After dealing with their undivided attention for a while, she tried to find a polite way to excuse herself so she could breathe and let her face rest a moment.

The opportunity to slip away came when Gabriel Agreste entered, accompanied by his assistant and three others. The designers commented on his boldness to bring three young models and speculation started about which of the blond men was Gabriel's heir and if they knew the woman with them. He had brought Lila, Adrien, and Felix. She should’ve expected to see at least two of those three here. Time had allowed her to forget about their presence in this world.

Marinette murmured to the closest person that she was going to grab herself a beverage, then quietly slipped away while the designers speculated amongst themselves. She wouldn't contribute with an explanation of any person in that group, let alone bring an opportunity for her past relationships with them to come up.

She instead had snuck around, hiding amongst the various crowds filling the room to get to the hallway where the bathrooms were located. Rather than going into the bathroom, she walked around a turn in the hallway past them and stopped, leaning against the wall to take some deep breaths and think.

If Lila was here, she was definitely still employed with Gabriel and in good standing. She had cut contact with Alya and Nino after the graduation day incident so Marinette hadn't heard much about her since then. Luka didn't talk much about Juleka outside of their time together at the houseboat or in Kitty Section, but Marinette was sure he wouldn’t have let any news of her reach Marinette anyway. Mr. "High-road" Agreste was here so she would likely need to stay hidden or leave so he didn't try to be overly friendly with her. She didn't want to deal with his attempts to catch up and accusations about not staying in touch, even though he hadn't been a great friend of hers after trying to convince her to be a doormat, even if it nearly got her akumatized. Ice King Felix was a wild card. In school he had been a strange mixture of harsh and quietly supportive (primarily in dealing with Lila or Chloe). If Marinette had to deal with any of those three, he would be her preferred. He had potential to be on her side simply on the conditions that Lila still despised her and that Felix still disliked Lila or/and Adrien. Regardless, Marinette preferred if she could just make it through the night without needing to speak with any of them. Slowly she was considering going back to attempt navigating the party. Pushing herself off the wall, she took one more deep breath with her eyes shut.

And promptly fell to the floor due to the unexpected force of something ramming into her. Her head bounced off the carpeted floor and she felt like her brain was trying to restart.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t see you around the corner and ran into you. Are you alright?” The man leaned down next to her, while Marinette blinked a few times, trying to get her bearings. Then she slowly started to sit up. He spoke again, “Do you need to have your head examined? It looks like you may have bumped it and messed up your hair.”

Her hand came up and ran across the back of her head, over the hair, still blinking as her brain started running again. She turned to look at him and felt a little bit of dismay.

“Felix. I’m okay. My head is just pounding a little bit. I should really check to see what I need to do to make myself presentable again,” Marinette slowly moved towards getting up, hand reaching out to the wall. Felix took her hand and offered his other for more support. She took it without thinking, balancing herself as she stood. Then she turned her body, releasing his hands, and leaned against the wall again. “Thanks. It is Felix right?” Maybe if I play my cards right, he won’t recognize me and will think I just know from his ads.

“Yes Marinette. One and the same,” he smirked at her efforts and she groaned inside. “Did you know that you’re the hot topic in that room? Well actually you’re right behind whether Adrien or I will inherit Gabriel. As if the man is even considering retiring at this point.” Felix leaned one shoulder against the wall next to her, grinning like a cat.

“It seems that you made a splash socially, then disappeared right as Gabriel Agreste showed up. They’re speculating and Lila seems to have convinced enough of them that the two of you are friends. She’s so sure you have a surprise planned for her, even if she hasn’t figured out that you’re the same person yet. That only brought more speculation as to why you aren’t working at Gabriel. ‘Is it perhaps because she has an indecent relationship with an heir? Or is she the victim of nepotism?’ If you don’t make an appearance again soon, these rumors may live on past the evening.” His eyes had narrowed slightly as he brought up Lila and the rumors starting around her, trying to read the slightest reaction. Marinette just deflated. She had just been ready to go back before their collision and now she just wanted to curl up in a ball. With this last statement, she let out a little sound of exhaustion.

“Why did she have to be here? And how is it that even the people that are used to dealing with snakes don’t recognize her as one?” she groaned out, hands pressing her eyes. After a moment she straightened her back against the wall, breathed deeply and sighed. “Alright. We’re adults. Might as well act like it.”

“You’re going back now?” Felix stood, sounding more curious than before. Marinette had stood straight up, and was taking a step from the wall to walk back into the main hallway and looking at Felix as she replied.

“Of course I’m going to go back. I’m a professional that doesn’t lie and pretend to get places. I do the hard things and succeed--” she raised her eyebrows and smirked back at him “--Of course I need to fix my hair first, since you messed it up. Are you going to hide here longer?”

Felix faintly blushed at her expression as she told him he messed her hair up and thought about another way he could mess it up. As she slowly walked he turned to follow her. “Did you have a companion with you tonight? It’s not uncommon for designers to bring one…”

“I did not. I have been networking. Why do you ask?” Marinette slowly stepped towards the restroom door, nearly laughing at his stalling tactics.

“Would you like one when you’re finished fixing yourself up?” Marinette couldn’t believe how warm he was being with her, even with his mocking way of warning her what she was walking into. Is this really the Ice King I knew in school?

“I guess you’ll have to wait if you want to see…” Marinette pushed into the bathroom, walking up to a mirror. Luckily my hair wasn’t too extravagant and the back is just a little messed up. With a little bit of water on her fingers and some adjustments of her bobby pins, her hair looking untouched and she was exiting the bathroom.

Felix had moved to stand against the wall near the bathroom, and straightened to join her. Marinette liked the way he was acting with her now and made a split second decision that at worst, she didn’t need to keep him around if he changed his tune. She could push him back out of her life. She reached a hand out to beckon him and he offered her an arm. Their strides matched as they walked back to the party.

Whispers started in the groups closest to the door as they saw their up-and-coming sunshine designer enter on the arm of the model known for his aloofness and cold professionalism. Felix’s face slipped back into it’s icy indifference, looking harshly at specific individuals that dared to make too inappropriate of a comment in his earshot. Marinette smiled and nodded at different individuals that she hadn’t spoken enough with at length. A small squeeze to his arm and twist of her head had the pair walking towards one of Marinette’s first choices for her next employer.

Other groups had taken notice of the pair, drawing more eyes, and conversations turned to theories about their relationship. The two ignored stares and managed to strike up a pleasant conversation with a woman that could drastically improve her prospects. With the increasing curiosity of most guests, one young woman noticed and began to formulate a plan.

“Marinette! Over here! It’s me! Why didn’t you tell your best friend that you were coming?” Lila loudly exclaimed as she began prancing across the room and waving a hand wildly like a child trying to catch attention. Her dramatics went unacknowledged as Felix used his most winning smile, describing Marinette’s designs throughout their school years and then drawing attention to the dress she was currently wearing. She couldn’t help but blush that he had recognized her craftsmanship even after years apart. The woman seemed to be swept up in the warmth and friendliness he was using, as well as the atmosphere those two formed around their group. Others paid particular attention to the hand Felix had rested on her side.

Marinette had been gaining attention up to this point, however the entire party noticed the atmosphere tense as Lila appeared to trip, right as she was about to reach the designer. Felix moved behind Marinette, having her twirl in front of him to show off the patterns embroidered into her dress, and felt the liquid on his back before Lila collided with him. Felix had made note of Lila as he was gesturing to Marinette’s dress and guessed at her plan with a fair bit of accuracy. Marinette was completely dry and far enough forward to avoid being bumped by Felix when the force from Lila’s impact pushed him. The icy glare returned to his face as he turned to deal with her.

A few men from nearby moved over to help Lila, who faked a sob story about how clumsy she was, because she was just so excited to see Marinette since “our schedules have just been so busy that we haven’t gotten to see each other!” when Felix interrupted her.

“Strange that you say that. I actually remember Marinette getting a restraining order on you after graduation, when you tried to poison her food. You claimed to be allergic to shellfish and said she was trying to slip clam broth into your food. However you had the broth container in your bag, it was slipped into her food, and according to her up-to-date school medical records, she’s severely allergic to mollusks so she wouldn’t come near the container. At the time, you were supposedly diagnosed with a disorder that causes you to compulsively lie. Regardless, the courts didn’t seem to believe that a disorder like that, which was unknown to and unheard of by medical professionals, wouldn’t have been grounds to explain trying to harm her and granted the order. Do you not remember that?” Felix recited the story almost impassively, as though it was simply a reminder of what she ate for breakfast, however he gave a mock confused look with his rhetorical question. The crowd had gathered around with her fall and were well within earshot as Felix described one of the worst incidents of Marinette’s life. The pale expression she wore and the Lila’s furious expression as he described it convinced even those that would’ve been inclined to side with Lila.

With one final look of distaste, Felix turned to Marinette and reached for her hand. The onlookers were surprised at the obvious tenderness as he spoke to her, “We should get you away from here. Do you want to stay at the party and talk to some more people or would you prefer I escort you home? We can see about getting some contact information before we leave, if you’d like.”

The room was deathly silent, even Lila having the sense to wait, in case she broke the tense quiet that had formed. After a deep breath and a shaky smile directed at Felix, Marinette turned back to the woman she had been speaking with before Lila’s act and politely said, “I enjoyed our conversation and hope we have the opportunity to speak again soon. I would love to hear more about your work to more effectively create silk patterns by hand. I know you said it before but hand weaved silk really is so much nicer than the machine weaved and I’ve read that it’s much more durable. Thank you for your time this evening!”

Felix moved to her side and Marinette slipped her hand into his before stepping towards the coat room. With coat in hand, the pair swept out of the ballroom to leave behind the drama of the evening.

Suddenly the room burst into chaos and Lila was escorted to a private room to wait for Gabriel to decide how to handle this revelation. He knew he would lose the respect of his peers if he kept a young woman on staff that they all knew had tried to murder another one. The cherry on that cake would be that the would-be victim is an up-and-coming designer that nearly all were considering making an offer to. It was clear to him that Ms. Rossi would be fired. Now it’s just a matter of the other clean up that would follow. Additionally, it seemed Ms. Dupain-Cheng also had a close relationship with his son, considering the show that he was putting on since they arrived. He would have to dig into his sons’ involvements with the designer's misfortunes, as that would impact how they looked to the public. There was one other aspect that Gabriel Agreste was rather certain of, one of his son’s was smitten with a good match and if they were happily married, it would help their careers immensely.

Marinette’s night out ended with a private car pulling up to her building, a kiss placed on Felix’s cheek, and her hand slipping a piece of paper with her phone number into his jacket pocket. She was pleased to find he messaged her immediately to make sure she made it into her apartment alright.

Felix was too lovestruck to sleep that night.

#felinette month 2020 #felinette month #lila salt #felinette #miraculous ladybug

208 notes · View notes

softinkshadows · 4 years ago

Text

valentine dates with adultrio (x female reader)

Disclaimer: It’s February! This means it’s time for some lists of valentine’s day scenarios with our problem trio :p Takes place in a semi-AU where I’d imagine they would have some semblance of normalcy (if they could ever) in their lives hehe. Smutty descriptions included.

HISOKA

- you bet he will do something over the top - we know that man loves to put on a good show. he will schedule a dinner with you on valentine’s at your favourite restaurant, and when you get ready and arrive, he will probably break up with you over the phone as a joke. by the time you get back to your apartment, on the brink of a breakdown, you’ll open the door to him sitting on the couch with an exquisite candlelight dinner prepared.

- “did you think i’d let you go so easily?”

- he will be dressed up, sporting a loosened tie and maybe a jacket, with his hair combed back and smirking at you while you take in everything with your mascara running down your tear-stained face

- you’ll be so damn furious and probably take out the rage on him through sex that night and he’ll love you even more for that

- “how much do you hate me right now?” he’ll whisper in your ear, teasing you while fingering you at a torturous pace

- when you both shower together after, it is strangely not sexual, a rarity for hisoka. amidst the rising steam from all the hot water, both your bodies clean and wet, he doesn’t say anything, but he’ll hold your face in his palms for a moment, as if to show how much you mean to him

- in another scenario, he will turn up at your front door on valentine’s dressed to impress - suit, tie, his hair let down in the most sensual way possible, holding a dramatically huge bouquet of roses

- he’s usually busy, and you don’t get to see him much, so this is a treat. “roses? didn’t take you to be a romantic sort,” you’d say

- after he crosses the threshold and enters your home, he’ll sigh. “you’re right. it’s valentine’s, so i thought i had to get them. troublesome things.” then he’ll casually discard them on your table, loosen his tie and prepare himself for what he really came for

- “let’s skip dinner and get started shall we?”

ILLUMI

- he’s an affection-starved bb and won’t really know how to say i love you, let alone do valentine’s day

- so he’ll be studiously researching on the internet a few days earlier on things to do and how to go about preparing for them

- you want him to take it easy, and suggest meeting him at his apartment first. but when you get there, you see him in a white dress shirt and simple apron, sleeves rolled up and long black hair tied back, going back and forth between recipe instructions on a computer and the mixing bowl on the kitchen counter, looking determined but confused as he goes about making some valentine’s day chocolates from scratch

- it’s a mess and the chocolate is half-ruined, his fingers are covered in them, and some have gotten on his shirt as well

- “isn’t it... supposed to be something like this?”

- you can’t help but double over in laughter, your heart warm from the sight. after cleaning it up together, he places the little strange blobs of chocolate gingerly in the fridge before you go for dinner

- dinner is at a cafe nearby, and he’s his usual quiet self, only occasionally recounting his recent assassination jobs, something which you have gotten used to

- afterwards, you both walk home together. something about the soft warm glow of streetlights and music coming from all the cafes lining the street makes him stop. you follow suit, turning to him.

- “y/n...” his voice will trail off quietly. then he will put his hand on your head and give it a soft pat - a precious moment

- back home, he will try one of his handmade chocolates but it will undoubtedly taste funny. you see his back stiffen but you demand to try one. you both get into a physical tussle (you forcing your way to the chocolate, and him barring you from them), but you’ll kiss him fiercely to taste it. you’ll see him blush deeply

- in the afterglow of sex, he will play with your hair and cuddle you to sleep

CHROLLO

- he has great taste and has exceptional class, so you can expect him to pull out all the stops. a swanky restaurant for sure, the kind which needs to be booked months in advance with a dress code

- he will pick you up from your apartment right on time. when you step out to the street he will be leaning against his porsche, dressed in an expensive 3-piece suit, holding an elegant bouquet of flowers

- “you look so beautiful”

- when you greet him, he will look at you with a mix of pride, lust, happiness with his piercing grey eyes, his hands instinctively moving to your lower back, as if to stake his claim over you

- so far he seems very by the book, but over the course of the night, his sweet demeanour gives way to his more possessive and dominant self beneath his calm and gentlemanly facade

- in the three star michelin restaurant, his hands will be on your legs beneath the table, hiking your dress up and slowly stroking your knees, your upper thigh. he will continue to make conversation like everything is normal, his smile drawn into a slight smirk, eyes twinkling, watching you struggle to eat and hold a proper discussion, your face turning redder as his hands travel further upward

- afterwards, you’ll be walking down the carpeted, exquisite hallway outside the restaurant. if there’s no one, he’ll suddenly push you against the wall, leaning on one of his forearms, spreading your legs gently with his own, raising your right knee to rest on his thigh, while his other errant hand slides up into your dress. by then you would be slightly wet from his consistent advances over dinner, and he confirms this by slipping two fingers beneath your underwear and into you

- “s-someone m-might see us,” you will sputter, gasping from the pleasure. “so what? lucky them,” he will chuckle

- his audacity makes you blush, and when you’re about to give in to this ridiculous situation, he pulls his fingers from you, cleaning them with his tongue

- he will whisk you back to his apartment straight after, and the door will only just click before he is on you in an instant, his lust overpowering and wild with an unfettered hunger. you will feel the hot, hard bulge of his pants rub against you while he slips his tongue into your mouth almost desperately, and you realize how much he held himself back throughout the night

- sex with him is feverish; he will take you anywhere, in any position. when he pounds rapidly into you, as you are about to reach your release, he will grip you gently by the hair and growl in your ear - “does hisoka make you feel this good?” and it’s enough to send you over the edge

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes: That’s all for this February special for now! I really wanted to include some illumi x hisoka x reader or adultrio x reader scenarios because valentine’s day celebrations aren’t restricted to two ;P but i didn’t have enough time - maybe a next part? I will be quite busy over the next week, and wouldn’t get a chance to write much so wanted to do this tonight :) Thank you to everyone who has read my previous writing and left likes and words of encouragement; i’m so thankful!!! I appreciate y’all and im so happy that you enjoyed them~

#adultrio #adultrio x reader #hisoka morow #illumi zoldyck #chrollo lucilfer #hisoka morow x reader #illumi zoldyck x reader #chrollo lucilfer x reader #hunter x hunter #hxh

92 notes · View notes

crystalirises · 3 years ago

Text

In Dreams I See You, In Reality You Haunt Me

Today is a good day

For angst

Aka

I want angst and I haven’t been fed in daaaaays.

So... have this.

TW: Sleep Deprivation, Near Death Experiences, Implied Death Experience, and Suicidal Themes (at least in other people's POV)

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28886223/chapters/82150489

When he’d asked his grandson to meet him in the ruins of New L’Manburg, he was unprepared for the person he would meet. He stood on top of the glass, eyes cast low to the crater of a country that once was. Red vines had crept along the crevices, consuming the land that they had tried so desperately to get rid of. He’d heard of the red egg, a being that was spreading throughout the land. Though Phil couldn’t find it in himself to care, so long as it left those he loved alone, then he’d let it thrive and consume the Essempy. He was so busy contemplating that he barely even noticed the hurried footsteps of his grandson until Fundy practically ran into him.

Phil flinched away, messy ginger hair and dark circles beneath the eyes reminded him of the last time he’d seen his son. He held Fundy at arms length, the tired fox hybrid blinking profusely like he wasn’t sure there was a person right in front of him. His hair was a tangle of uncombed hair, grayed at the edges with… soot and gunpowder. Fundy eyes were dull, devoid of any life, the dark circles beneath them only seemed to pop out against too pale skin. His clothes were a mess, his usual white shirt covered in dust and black with ash. He was shivering despite the warm sun that reflected off the glass, his black jacket didn’t seem to be able to keep him warm. Phil shrugged off his green cloak, it wasn’t made to keep anyone warm, but if it helped Fundy. He tied it around his grandson’s shoulders, but Fundy didn’t seem to acknowledge him at all. Phil sucked in a breath, smelling cinder and destruction. His grandson looked just like Wilbur now…

“When’s… the last time you slept and took a bath, mate?” Phil chuckled nervously, reluctant to let go of Fundy in case he decided to faint. Fundy jolted at his voice, blinking away his exhaustion, a weary yet confused smile appearing on the fox hybrid’s face. “You look like shit.”

“Huh? Uh no, no sleep. Bath… I… Why am I here? Oh, you wanted to talk to me…” With every word, Phil found himself slowly frowning. Fundy giggled, shaking his head as though to remember why he was there. “I was… I was blowing up my house. I, uh, a demon lives there, ya know? It’s in my dreams, in my house. Wilbur came by one time too, the demon was gone then.”

“Wilbur visited you?” His heart ached, his son really was alive…

“Uh huh, he was… he was standing there… all Wilbur-like.” Fundy let out a yawn, eyes fluttering close for a moment before he flinched, reaching up a hand to slap himself awake. Phil’s eyes widened. Was Fundy… intentionally refusing to sleep? He kept a gentle grip on Fundy’s arm, reaching down to untie the lead that kept Friend from wandering off too far. He didn’t doubt Fundy’s claim that he’d blown up his house, but that meant Fundy didn’t have a place to stay, and he wasn’t about to let his grandson wander off on his own. “Why am I here, Phil? What d—”

“Nothing you have to worry about, mate.” He would want to ask Fundy where Wilbur had gone off to, but he wouldn’t want to upset his grandson. He knew how… Fundy felt about Wilbur. He needed Fundy calm and relaxed, enough to push him into falling asleep. With the lead in one hand and his grandson’s arm in the other, he slowly led his grandson and Friend in the direction of the nether portal. “You’ll need a place to stay… I have a spare bed that you can sleep in—”

“NO!” He nearly fell to the ground in Fundy’s haste to get away from him, the fox hybrid pulling against Phil’s hold. Phil pitied his poor grandson… he wasn’t holding Fundy that strongly but he couldn’t seem to get out of Phil’s hold. “I don’t want to sleep! The demon is waiting to kill me!”

“Fundy, mate, there is no demon. There are no demons, they’re just nightmares, mate. You’re fine! They can’t get you in the dreams.” Fundy had started to cry now, shaking his head so fast that Phil was surprised he wasn’t getting sick. Friend let out a soft baa beside them, nudging Fundy’s leg as it to calm him. “I cannot, as your guardian, let you live while you’re in this state.”

“You don’t understand, I can’t go back in there. I-I can’t go back to that desert wasteland. I can’t, Phil! I can’t!” It was sad to watch, and Phil knew he’d have no choice but to take Fundy back. His grandson could get in a lot of trouble if Phil were to leave him alone. “Grandpa, please!”

“Fundy, you need to sleep. You’re wasting away like this.”

“I don’t need sleep! Wilbur even told me… he told me that if I wanted to keep the demon away that I… that I didn’t need sleep! I’m fine. ‘m fine!” After a few more seconds of struggling, Fundy slumped over, eyelids fluttering close. Phil adjusted his hold, praying for his back before pulling Fundy up into his arms. It wouldn’t be a proper sleep, fainting was different from sleeping, but they’d have to settle on this for now. He glanced over at Friend, the blue sheep giving Phil a baa before walking forward. At least Friend wasn’t trying to make a break for it while Phil was distracted, the poor sheep probably did want to search for Ghostbur… oh, right.

“I’m so sorry, mate.” Friend didn’t look at him, but Phil was sure that the sheep understood why.

He shook his head, he’d have to make sure Fundy got a better sleep schedule once they got home. With his grandson in his arms, and Friend in front of him, Phil started to head back home.

Surely Techno wouldn’t mind seeing his nephew again.

---

Techno wiped the sweat off his forehead, his breath coming out in cold puffs of smoke. He leaned against one of the spruce trees, taking a moment to breathe in the air of the arctic, the chill wind blowing through his pink hair. The hair tie must have come loose at some point during his training, he’d have to find it in the snow later on. He sniffed, the icy wind smelt of an incoming blizzard. He’d have to bring Carl inside the stables and collect Steve who’d gone out to go fishing in the nearby ice lake. His gaze turned towards the cabin, smoke coming out from the open window. He could only hope that Phil was cooking and that Fundy hadn’t caused a fire. He wouldn’t blame the poor kid, but it certainly would be exhausting to rebuild the house again.

Speaking of his nephew, Techno’s ear flicked up at the sound of a door creaking open. A familiar fox hybrid sneaked out the door, glancing around before pausing to look in the distance. He followed Fundy’s gaze, unsure if his delirious nephew was looking at Steve or at the ice lake.

He sheathed his sword, heading back towards the cabin. Fundy was very unstable, no matter how hard Phil had tried, Fundy refused to sleep. Techno would have to herd or drag him back inside.

Techno paused at the bottom of the steps, careful to avoid Fundy’s gaze, an easy feat to accomplish for he was too occupied to even notice Techno’s presence. He moved up the stairs, feet gently thumping against the wood, but the noise was enough to cause Fundy to bolt.

He glanced over at Techno, dull brown eyes blown completely wide before Fundy jumped off the side of the patio. Techno rushed forward, but Fundy had jumped down into the small pond. His tail was raised and bristled, his teeth bared at Techno while he let out a low growl. He made a move to jump down, preparing himself for the shock of jumping into ice cold water. Luckily, the water only reached up to his knees. Fundy screamed as he jumped down, running further away.

His heart seemed to freeze in his chest. Fundy was headed towards the ice lake. He raced after him, unclasping his blue cape along the way as it was only extra weight. Fundy was quicker, pouncing past fallen tree logs and rocks. He was determined, Techno gave him that. If only his nephew could put that energy into a hobby that didn’t involve jumping into freezing ice lakes.

“Fundy! Fundy!” Techno chased him down, “Fundy, you don’t know how to swim!”

He didn’t get a response, but Techno expected that. Fundy had reached the edge of the river by this point, pausing to glance back at Techno. “Fundy, get away from the edge. Now. Or else.”

His nephew was shivering. Frost had already formed on his dripping wet clothes.

“Mama.” Techno’s nose scrunched up. He hoped his nephew wasn’t hallucinating him for Wilbur’s wife, whose name he’d never been told for Wilbur was adamant to keep her a secret. Fundy scooted closer to the lake, shaking his head the moment Techno took a few steps forward. The fox hybrid had wrapped his arms around himself, his body aware that he was freezing even if his mind was muddled with sleep deprivation. Techno would have to research more on the topic. Fundy pointed at the lake, tears flowing past his cold cheeks despite his smile. “Mama!”

Fundy tried to jump.

Techno rushed forward, taking Fundy by the arms before setting him on his shoulder.

“Mama!” Fundy squirmed in his grasp, reaching back for the ice lake. Techno huffed, lugging his confused nephew back to the cabin, trying desperately to tune out Fundy’s cries. It hurt to hear.

It did hurt to hear, more than he cared to admit. He headed back to the cabin, waiting for Fundy to tire himself out. It was the only sleep he ever got nowadays, if fainting counted as sleep. He glanced back towards the river, unsure of why Fundy had insisted that his mother was in the lake. Phil hadn’t mentioned hallucinations, but Techno knew the signs. He’d heard them all his life, the voices. Fundy had visions, not voices, or maybe he had both. Techno paused on the way, waiting for Fundy’s breath to lull down. He only continued to head back once he was sure Fundy had passed out. He’d have to find a way to get his nephew to sleep. He’d die if he stayed awake.

Now, if he saw his twin brother, he’ll have to ask why Fundy thought a lake was his mother.

---

“I’m not a fucking babysitter, Phil!” It was too late, his dad had flown off before Tommy could curse at him further. He scowled, turning back to his… nephew. Gods, that was so fucking weird.

“Hey, big man. You look shit, you know?” Fundy glanced up at him, the book he’d been reading (though if you’d ask Tommy he was sure that Fundy was just staring at the page) completely forgotten. He sighed, sitting across from Fundy for a moment. It was unsettling - fucking creepy, if you asked him - how Fundy hadn’t stopped staring at him, if anything, he wasn’t sure if Fundy had even blinked once since he’d started staring. “Hey… You know that’s… You okay, Fundy?”

“... Why are you a ghost?”

He felt a chill run down his spine. He traced the scars on his skin, dark forest green eyes flashing in his mind, the stench of decay and blood hitting him in full force. His throat had gone impossibly dry. No one had known of his death, at least, no one had tried to talk to him about it. Fundy wouldn’t… how would he know? “You know you can’t just ask me that kind of question.”

“... How did you die?”

“I did not—” Tommy slammed his hands on the table, the noise startling Fundy. The fox hybrid blinked, mouth agape as if he was only seeing him for the first time. Tommy took a deep breath, counting down from ten before sinking back in his seat. He didn’t remember Fundy being so rude, but then again, he didn’t remember ever seeing Fundy tired. He looked at the dark circles underneath his eyes, wincing at how familiar the look was. “I’m not dead, and I’m not a ghost.”

A clear look was in Fundy’s eyes as he looked at the scars that traced Tommy’s hands.

It disturbed him. Fundy looked aware for the first time since he’d gotten to Phil’s house.

“I can’t sleep.”

“What?” Tommy leaned back against his chair, tilting his head as a bitter smile crossed Fundy’s tired face. He’d known that Fundy was going through some shit, but he didn’t know about what.

“These past few weeks, everytime I close my eyes I could see him.” Fundy curled in on himself, his face buried in his hands. Tommy winced, afraid that Fundy might start sobbing and that he wouldn’t be able to do anything. “I’ve had these nightmares. I can’t sleep because I always wake up in the desert, alone. The van is always there, until it isn’t. Then there are books, and they tell me to wake up. I… I’ve been trying to stay awake but Phil and Techno say that’s not healthy.”

“... They’re right, Fundy, and you know I hate agreeing with Techno of all people.”

“I can’t sleep, Tommy. I won’t.” Tommy didn’t know how long it’s been since Fundy’s had a proper rest, but there’s a reason why Phil had brought him back with him. If Fundy looked like shit now, gods know what he’d looked like when Phil first found him. “He’s waiting for me.”

“Who…?” Tommy frowned.

“The demon.” Fundy paused, and shook his head. “No, not the demon. Wilbur.”

---

He’d escaped. Phil was busy in the mines and Techno had been on the cusp of hibernation. He’d had to run from Steve but he’d gotten away from the arctic and back to the Essempy. Fundy walked down Prime Path, a voice whispering into his ear. His dad was calling him, and Fundy really wanted to see him again. The one in the real world, the one in his nightmares terrified him.

He reached the top of the hill, casting his eyes to the right where the walls of L’Manburg were (once were? no, they were right there). His dad said he’d wait for him at the bench. Well, it was Tommy and Tubbo’s bench but his dad said to meet him there. He swayed at the top of the stairs, shaking his head as he turned to look towards the bench. His dad stood by the edge, the sun illuminating the blue of his uniform. He felt something wet run down his cheeks. He reached up, surprised to find that he was crying. Why was he crying when his dad was right in front of him?

“There you are, Fundy.”

“Hi, dad.”

He stood next to his dad, basking in the sun that was setting in the distance. The sky had turned a beautiful mix of orange, purple, and pink. He couldn’t remember the last time he and his dad had taken the time to watch the sunset. He felt an arm snake around his shoulders, keeping him in place. His dad moved forward a bit, Fundy hesitating to follow. His dad hadn’t turned around to face him yet. His tail stopped wagging, his ears pressed to the top of his head. Was his dad angry at him? Had he taken too long to get to his dad? He let out a small whine, but then an arm ruffled his hair. A smile found its way to his lips. Oh. His dad wasn’t mad at him. That’s good, great.

“How’s my little champion?”

“I missed you.” He hesitated, but reached up to hold his dad’s hand. It’s been years, but somehow his hand still looked so small against his dad’s. He laughed nervously, his hold gentle as if afraid that the vision would end. But it wasn’t a vision. “I missed this version of you, dad.”

“Hm… come with me then.”

His dad finally turned around, a kind smile on his face before he turned back to walk forward.

His breath stuttered in his throat, his dad’s hand suddenly slipping from his hold. His dad was walking away, right into the sunset. Fundy could feel his breath quicken, his head heavy with nausea. His dad was leaving him again. His dad was leaving again. But he said Fundy could go with him, didn’t he? He took a step forward to follow after his dad, climbing over the wooden fence that was in his path. He reached out a hand, calling out for his dad… then he was flying.

He didn’t dare to loosen his grip.

Wilbur breathed through clenched teeth, grasping his son by the arm before willing himself to pull him up. Fundy had fainted, good. Wilbur didn’t want Fundy, his son, to struggle against him.

After a few agonizing seconds, he’d pulled Fundy away from the edge of the cliff.

He held Fundy in his arms, eyes tracing the dark circles beneath Fundy’s eyes. He’d been on a walk down the path when he’d seen his son climbing past the fence. Wilbur couldn’t believe it, but Fundy hadn’t stopped, eager to jump off the edge as quickly as he could. He had been lucky, he’d grabbed just as he fell. He cradled his son in his arms, pressing a kiss to Fundy’s forehead.

“Oh, my little champion…” Wilbur held Fundy closely, “Why would you do that to yourself?”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clarification:

I know he's supposed to be at least out of it... but I wanted Fundy to talk to Tommy cause honestly, I want more of their dynamic. It's like a friendship that doesn't seem like it would hold up... but I think if there's two people on the Dream SMP who has suffered to much, it's Tommy and Fundy.

#fundy #philza #technoblade #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #dream smp fanfiction #dsmp

18 notes · View notes

justletmeplayminecraft · 4 years ago

Text

five times the hermits reassured xb his reputation doesn’t matter to them & one time they didn’t need to

another fic in @martuzzio‘s space outlaw au! this was a bit of an in-between whilst i prepped for a bigger project. this time: exploring xb and his feelings towards his false accusation.

featuring: xb needs hugs, i promise he gets them, me trying to feel out voices, lots of reassuring hermits, they’re a big family okay, xb is Not Okay with his bounty and the effects it causes, but they’re there to help, some cute kids, when you have problems: lie in a pool, its angst with comfort, the usual.

warnings: people are mean, panic attack, minor violence, less minor off-screen violence (mentioned gun violence, no details), low self image, self worth issues, bad decisions made whilst possibly dissociating, i swear its happy at the end.

XB has never been one for public attention. He'd always been happy at his job. He minded his own business, enjoyed the research and helping people. Sometimes he even socialised with his co-workers, though that rarely extended outside of work. He lived a solitary life, away from the public eye, and he was happy with that. He had his lot. He didn't need anything else.

Then the accident happened and his world turned upside down.

Everything he'd built for himself, the comfortable life he'd made, fell apart at his feet. Suddenly he was to blame for the corruption of an entire planet. And he knew- he knew it wasn't really his fault. It was a complete mismanagement, barely even his department! But maybe if he'd paid more attention, worked faster, spoken out-

He can't change things now.

What followed was the most stressful period of his life. He watched as charges stacked up, already convicted in the public opinion. He went on the run, hiding on the half-dead planet and just trying to survive, really. He stopped keeping track of anything else, feeling sick as people demanded his head. His abilities saved him from two assassination attempts. He ran further, hid better.

Until he met the Hermits.

After all this time, he's not quite sure how he ended up joining them. He thought he was dead when he first caught sight of that emblem. This was it. The outside world had finally caught up. Then they helped him. Then he was on their ship. Then Xisuma was asking in a kind voice if he wanted to become one of them. A Hermit.

To tell the truth, if he knew the reaction it'd cause, he wouldn't have agreed. He would have said no, been dropped on a planet with a new identity, and gone on his way into obscurity. Instead, he said yes. He became a Hermit with a capital H. It felt good, at first. To be part of something like that. They had his back, they knew the situation.

The publicity didn't happen immediately. The Hermits were a smaller group back then. It took a short while until the rest of the universe caught up. Even now, he has no idea who first broke the story. One night, he falls asleep, lounging in the pool. In the morning he wakes up to a slander campaign.

Not against him. Against the Hermits. Because of him.

Hermits protecting planet destroyer, Hermits support massacre, Hermits criminal, Hermits, Hermits, Hermits, Him.

Joe is the one who finds him having a panic attack at the bottom of the pool. He's first aware of light touches against his skin, the water swirling in ways he doesn't expect. He opens his eye in a panic, but Joe is already shielding his face. He gestures a thumbs up and it takes all of XB's effort to remember what that means. He nods in a rush, realises Joe can't see that, and tugs him up instead.

They surface together. XB takes a strangled gasp of air, struggling lungs already unhappy. Joe guides him to the side, speaking firm instructions XB doesn't fully process but obeys all the same. Eventually, they sit at the edge of the pool. He can't feel the water around his legs. He can barely feel Joe's hand on his back, rubbing circles. He loses track of time completely.

Joe doesn't leave him.

He waits, his hand and unintelligible words a companion whilst XB fights for air. When XB can make out his counting, he tries to follow Joe's encouragement and take deep breaths. His heartbeat continues racing. He squeezes Joe's free hand tight.

Once he's finally confident enough, he mumbles, "Sorry." Joe makes an audible noise of disagreement. He places something cool in XB's hand. It takes sliding his finger around to realise it's his eye protection.

"Nothing to apologise for," Joe tells him. With his eye controlled, XB can finally see Joe's face. The Hermit is looking at him with a gentle calmness, water dripping from his skin and hair. Without the pounding in his ears, XB can hear them splash against the tiles. "I'm going to go out on one of Cleo's limbs here, and guess you saw the news." XB rubs at one of his fins with a nod.

"I shouldn't have joined you guys."

"I disagree," Joe replies. XB turns away. He kicks his legs just enough to create gentle ripples in the water.

"I've made a right mess of things. For everyone." Joe bloops, leaning onto his hand.

"Hardly more of a mess than before," he tells him. There's no doubt at all in his voice. No anger. "XB, you have to understand we knew what would happen when we took you on. We care about you. Not the opinions of the faceless masses. If we cared about that then we wouldn't get anything done." XB sighs, a drop of water falling from his fin.

"How can you be so calm about this?" He asks. He can't find anything else to say. Joe pats his back lightly.

"In the same way I was calm when False joined." He kicks his feet. "Things will be dramatic. It might feel like the end of the world. But sometimes you just have to trust Xisuma knows what he's doing. And I certainly think he did when he invited you." Joe pushes onto his feet, offering his hand for XB. XB takes it, trying not to use it too much. Joe is sturdy despite that. "This will pass," Joe encourages, "And you will always have a place here."

"That's a pretty bold statement." Joe doesn't let go of XB's hand. He leads them away from the pool, not caring about the trail of water as they go.

"And yet it's a true one." XB chooses to focus on the ground instead. He's...

He'll get back to Joe on that one.

It's not often XB leaves the ship. He has one of the higher bounties out of all of them. Close to False's, and she actually deserves her's. He was terrified of her until she patiently taught him how to handle weapons, not once becoming frustrated as he struggled. She's still terrifying, but at least she's on his side.

Keralis was the one who pestered him out this time. The promise of buying extra fruit had tempted him into the supply run. He just needed a partner in crime (no leaving the ship without one) and pretty please, XB, pretty please?

So now XB is stood in the middle of a store, scanning the shelves and checking his half of the shopping list. He worries his lip, standing and catching a woman staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He continues searching, but her stare doesn't let up. He finally turns.

"Um, excuse me?" He asks, tilting his head in genuine concern. "Are you-" He doesn't expect her to surge forward, fury written on her face.

"If you weren't with those filthy Hermits I'd have you." The woman shoves his chest, forcing his back against the shelves. He blinks, fins flicking in defence.

"Wha-?"

"You go and you murder an entire planet. Don't show a bit of remorse. Then you run and hide behind them like a coward." XB can feel eyes on him now, the entire store falling silent at the exchange. He thinks he might be trembling. He can't quite tell. The woman is up in his face. His hand itches to take his eye protection off, gently put her to sleep and run. But there's witnesses, there's so many people and- "Maybe I should just do it right now. Consequences be damned." Her fingernails scratch into his armour, and he nearly falls as she pulls him forward.

"Oh, wow wow wow wow wow, ma'am." XB has never been more relieved to see Keralis. He steps in between them, blocking her from taking XB any further. "Could you unhand my friend, please? You're not being very nice." To XB's horror, she doesn't, nearly dragging him into Keralis as she gestures.

"What authority do you have?" She demands. "Defending a murderer like this, you should be ashamed of yourself." Keralis holds his hands up, ears twitching very slightly.

"XB is a perfectly good person. No murderer in him. And we'd like to leave, please." There's a threatening hint to Keralis's usually bright tone. The hand around his arm is finally released.

She storms away with a shout of, "You'll get what's coming to you!" XB's legs jellify beneath him. Keralis is quick to get an arm around his shoulders, holding him up.

"Come on, back to the ship with you. That's enough adventure for today." XB nods, resting briefly on Keralis's shoulders. With a bit of effort, he keeps himself steady enough to follow Keralis out of the store. He tries to ignore the eyes that follow them, the tightness it causes in his chest.

"What about the shopping?" His voice is quiet even to him. Keralis shakes his head.

"It's okay. Shishwamy will send someone else to do it. No worries." XB tries to let that comfort him but it only makes his anxiety worse. Once again, things are messed up because of him. This will put them off schedule, someone else will need to come out, and they'll all know it's because of him.

"Maybe," he starts, hesitating and continuing. "Maybe I shouldn't wear my suit when I come out." Keralis chirps in concern, keeping them at the edge of the busy streets.

"And why do you say that?" XB looks at his arm, at the deep colours and intricate patterns and mechanisms that make up the suit.

"It might be easier if people don't like, associate me with the Hermits when I'm in public." Keralis frowns, a big expression on his face. He squeezes the arm around XB's shoulders.

"XB, sweetiepie-" Keralis nudges his head against XB's. The hair tickles enough to make him gently laugh. "-If you don't want to wear your suit for your own safety, that's okay! But don't you go taking it off because you're afraid of making us look bad. No siree! You're a Hermit, XB, and we love you."

"That doesn't change people's opinions of me." Opinions so strong they're willing to threaten him in daylight, and nobody steps in. Keralis chitters.

"Doesn't change people's opinion of me either! But I know they won't be upset if we have to avoid a planet, or I can't attend a meeting. We care about you. And I'm sure there's lots of people out there who care about you too." XB can't bring himself to respond to that. He knows Keralis is discriminated against for being a banshee. But it's just...

It's not the same as being blamed for destroying an entire planet.

XB doesn't go out in public again for nearly a year.

"I can't believe this," Doc announces as he storms into the room. XB twitches, instinctively listening whilst he tries to focus on his book. He's tucked in the corner of the common room, buried in beanbags and mostly out of sight. He can see the wall of Cleo's hair move as she looks up.

"What's happened this time?" She asks, placing her book on the table. She moves her legs so Doc can sit down. It's been a busy few months for the ship. They've had new additions. Doc is one of them. He's fallen quickly into helping Xisuma with negotiations, managing their various relationships with other groups. XB is kinda terrified of him, actually. But he trusts Xisuma and his judgement. He wouldn't do anything to put them in danger.

"A group has dropped their support of us because of the latest drama." Doc collapses into the seat, leaning into the cushions. "I can't believe it, man." XB presses his mouth together, his fins pressing back. The latest drama being people remembering he exists as a Hermit. Some news came out about the planet he- he didn't destroy. He's been avoiding going online but, apparently it's inescapable.

"Seriously?" Cleo asks. She scowls behind her hair. "That's so stupid." Doc hums his agreement.

"I just don't get it." He throws his robotic hand up as he talks, leaning towards Cleo. "I mean, I've barely seen the guy, but he doesn't seem that bad. Not bad enough to make a campaign like this." XB swallows. He puts his book down in favour of squeezing his hands into his robe. Cleo sighs, nodding.

"He really isn't. I don't know why they keep dragging it up." She grabs one of her legs, pulling it up close to her. She leans on her knee. "You should've seen him when he first joined, Doc. Guy looked ready to accept his death."

"He doesn't even look capable of doing that to a planet-" XB almost chokes, standing and abandoning his book entirely.

"Sorry I'm- I'm just leaving." He wraps his arms around himself, ready to stumble out of the room.

Cleo is faster, jumping up and grabbing his arm, pulling him back with a stern, "XB." She pushes him between them, sitting him down and reclaiming her spot. XB ducks his head, tucking his legs up in front of him.

"XB, sorry man, I didn't realise you were in here." Doc sounds apologetic. He's looking at XB with worry, sat a careful distance away to avoid crowding him in. XB still finds him a frightening sight. The un-moving robotics bore into him.

"It's okay," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around his knees. "I would've found out eventually." Doc frowns.

"I meant talking about you like you weren't here," Doc says. "I'm not usually a gossip. Though I would've preferred to tell you more sensitively."

"If we knew they were gonna drop us over some false allegations, X wouldn't have allied with them to start with," Cleo tells him, crossing her arms as she sinks back.

"They don't really know it's false though," XB points out. "I mean, it's not like this isn't a ship of criminals." He can't help his glance at Doc as he says it. Thankfully, the former mafia leader takes no offence.

"I barely know you, XB, and even I can tell it's stupid." Doc's accented voice portrays his emotions well. "You seem like you've been a big help to the Hermits."

"He has been." Cleo pokes his legs with her foot. “You're a Hermit through and through, XB. No escaping it now."

"Everybody here has only good things to say about you, man. I'm proud to call you a crew mate. Who cares what anyone else thinks?" XB smiles, relaxing more onto his knees. It's nice to hear but-

He cares.

XB sighs as he flicks his fins back, fitting his helmet on snug and letting them pop into place. Keralis had to dip last minute, so XB is going to this meeting instead. He's not particularly intimidating, but hopefully he'll be able to defuse the situation if needs must. Two of the newer Hermits are coming as well. He watches as they suit up, making an odd pair. XB still isn't sure what to think of the group. Python vouched for them, but ex-Convex members? Especially such high ranking ones? And now one of them is going to a negotiation with them? Right.

"Is everybody ready?" Xisuma asks. There's a chorus of affirmatives. Doc stands next to Xisuma, files under his arms. "Let's get moving, then."

They keep as a tight unit, going over the plan once more. Xisuma and Doc will be doing the negotiating. XB and Wels, the other new Hermit, are there for protection. Scar, the ex-Convex, is there for luck. XB doesn't get it, and he's not going to ask.

The meeting falls apart from the moment they arrive, really. The crew they're meeting turn and whisper to each other, too quiet for XB's translator to pick up. Their admin steps forward, slit eyes threatening.

"You insult us," XB's suit translates. He can see Xisuma's suit plating shift as he tenses. He speaks in their language.

"I'm afraid I don't know where you're coming from," he replies, his voice controlled even in translation. Their admin steps closer. Any other person would've stepped away. Xisuma stands firm, Doc coming to his side.

"You bring a Convex member and a planet destroyer to our meeting." XB twitches, wanting nothing more than to sneak out of the room. "It is bad enough you grant them safety, but to have them in our negotiation?"

"Scar has denounced Convex, and the allegations against XB are false." Xisuma's voice is level, his posture not showing a hint of weakness. "Do you wish to negotiate or should we end this meeting here?"

"I recommend you leave with your lives while you can." XB shudders, fighting to stay still. He's thankful the helmet hides his expression.

"I recommend you don't threaten my crew." The temperature in the room drops with Xisuma's voice. The other admin steps back, eyeing them suspiciously. Xisuma turns to the Hermits, keeping an eye on the opposing crew. He nods. "We'll take our leave."

They exit at that, all of them keeping a watch that they aren't followed onto the ship. It's only when the door closes behind them that they relax. Wels darts to Scar's side. The ex-Convex collapses against the wall, trembling in his hold. XB looks away. That feels like something private. Definitely not something he'd expect from ex-Convex.

Apparently he's considered equivalent to the Convex. The thought makes him dizzy. Doc and Xisuma are already talking in low voices, recounting what happened and planning their next steps. XB is incredibly out of place. He glances around the room, trying not to feel jealous when he sees how close Scar and Wels are, how gentle Wels sounds, their helmets pressed together. XB swallows and slips out of the entrance hall before any of them notice.

He ignores anyone he passes until he reaches his room, closing the door behind him. His armour comes off, and he dives into the pool in the adjoining space. He sighs, lying face down in the water, barely feeling the fabric layer he left on. The liquid is a friendly pressure. Something comforting after all of... This. No matter what happens, he'll always have water.

Time passes as he lies there, blocking out the world outside the water. He tries not to think about how he's messed things up again. There isn't much else to think about, though. He doesn't understand why the Hermits keep him around when he causes so many problems. Lost deals, alliances, constant bad publicity. All tied to one person. Wouldn't it be easier to cut him off? XB could manage. Maybe he should do it for them.

"XB?" He jumps at the sound of an opening door, instinctively reaching up to cover his eye.

"Eye!" He calls, hearing the footsteps stop.

"Oh," Hypno's voice calls back. "Hold on, dude." XB follows the movement around his bedroom, until an object is placed in his hands with a pat. "There you go." XB pulls it over his eye, checking it's secure before looking. Hypno's crouched in front of him. He smiles, waving his fingers.

"How'd you know I was here?" XB asks, resting at the edge of the pool. Hypno sits down, not complaining about the wet floor.

"Guessed," he admits with a shrug. "They were worried when they realised you'd vanished." XB sighs, resting his chin on his arms.

"They seemed busy."

"Well, they are." Hypno nods in agreement. He crosses his legs so he can lean towards XB. "Xisuma doesn't want to stick around in case that crew turns hostile. But he was still worried about you."

XB frowns, "There's nothing to worry about."

"Is that why you're hiding in your pool?" Hypno asks. It's clearly not a question. XB slouches back into the water. "XB, it's not your fault, dude. You can't keep blaming yourself."

"Then who do I blame?" XB can't help but sound grouchy. If it weren't for him then that meeting might have worked out. Maybe they would've been fine with just Scar. Hypno leans back as he counts on his hand.

"The company for not taking responsibility, the management that decided to frame you, the other employees who were complicit, the news companies that were likely paid off, the ones that latched onto the story without researching it, the ones that keep bringing it up for quick clicks." Hypno turns to look at him. "Do I need to keep going?" XB shakes his head.

"I think I get the message," he replies. "But I'm not sure if it helps." Hypno nods without judgement.

"Then what do you think will?" He tries, instead. XB partially closes his eye to think about it.

"I'm not really sure." Hypno rubs his shoulder. The texture of dry skin helps ground him.

"That's okay." Hypno’s voice is friendly, reassuring. XB knows he's turned this into an impromptu therapy session. He thinks he needs it. "How about we try to work it out together? You're my friend, XB. I want you to be happy with us. I don't want you to feel guilty over things that aren't your fault." Hypno holds a hand out. "So, are you willing to work with me?" XB smiles, kicking up to meet his hand.

"Yeah. I think I can give it a shot."

They'd been outside, spending some time in the sunshine of the planet, then somebody-

XB squeezes his fins, continuing to pace the corridor outside the infirmary. Stress has closed the windows, needing to focus, and XB doesn't want to make anything worse. This is all his fault. Hypno's lying in there having emergency surgery because somebody wanted to kill XB. He finally falls against one of the walls as his legs give way, sliding to the floor with a quiet noise.

He formulates a plan in his head.

He's already been distant lately. This was the first time he'd hung out with Hypno in weeks, and look at what's happened. He can't be friends with people if he's going to hurt them. They'll understand. He hopes they'll understand.

He takes a deep breath.

His memories of the next hour are faint. He packs essentials into a bag. Leaves his suit and communicator neatly on his bed. He takes the emergency savings he keeps tucked away in his drawer, counting through without really taking it in. Though he writes a note, he doesn't remember what it contains. He thinks he stood in the doorway for a few minutes. Used some time to take in the room he's called home for so many years now. He really can’t remember.

Then he sneaks out, carefully unscrewing panels in the water filtration system, replacing them with care. He knows it like the back of his hand. He installed it, after all. The drop from the ship hurts his leg but nothing in his head registers it. He's lucky this is a big enough planet to park her. Means it'll be so much easier to get lost.

He wraps himself up in a coat, pulling it over his features. Some small part of him can't believe he's doing this. The Hermits are all he's known for years. They're his friends. But that's why it's so important he leaves. He survived on his own before. He can do it again.

He finds a room in a hotel for the night. The robotic receptionist doesn't question who he is, accepting the money and giving him the door key. He collapses onto the bed in a heap, realising he has no idea what he's going to do next. His plan kind of trails off here. Perhaps he'll hide out in this hotel until the ship leaves, but that's wasting money. It's probably better to head out for supplies, and get on a ship as far away as possible.

For today, he's exhausted enough to curl up under the covers and hide from the world. It doesn’t feel like he’s part of it right now, anyway.

There's a knock at the door.

He sighs, burying his face into the pillow. The knock only gets more insistent. Realistically, it's either the Hermits or somebody who's here to kill him. The fact they've not broken down the door yet suggests the Hermits. Well, the more responsible ones. XB keeps a hand on his eye strap either way. He's still in the rumpled coat.

He'll admit, he's surprised to see Xisuma in the doorway. The admin is wearing a cloak, his shadowed eyes nearly glowing in the darkness. He looks tired. When doesn’t he?

"Can I come in?" Xisuma asks, keeping his voice quiet. XB nods, stepping aside. If only because X should not be stood out in the corridor of some hotel in the same town someone tried to kill XB half a day earlier.

"I hope you're not here on your own," XB tells him, sitting on the bed. Xisuma finds a chair by the desk, sitting down tidily.

"Some of the others are nearby," Xisuma replies. "They checked it was safe first. Out of concern for you, as well." XB leans against the wall. "Hypno is okay, by the way. He was asking after you." XB sighs, tucking away into the coat.

"You're trying to make me feel guilty."

Xisuma shakes his head, "I'm letting you know. He was worried. We all were."

"He could have died because of me," XB doesn't try hiding it. Not from himself.

"Were you the one who shot him?" Xisuma asks. There's no change from his gentle tone.

"No, but-"

"Then you weren't the reason." XB knows, logically, that's true. He wasn't the one who fired on him. He didn't frame himself, all those years ago. It's just hard to prove that in his head. Not when the consequences are right in front of him. When he’s spent so long thinking about everything he could’ve done differently.

"It feels like I am," he says, tilting forward on the bed. "I don't want to make the people around me unsafe anymore. Any of the Hermits." Xisuma nods, sitting up in the chair.

"If you want to leave, I won't stop you." XB swallows. He really can just leave. Just... Go. "But I want you to consider if that's what you want to do. Not because you want to protect us. We can protect ourselves. Do you want to leave?" XB digs his fingers into his leg.

"I'm not sure." Does he want to leave? He wants to keep the others safe. He wants to stop giving the Hermits his bad reputation. But they're still his friends. His family. He doesn't want to leave them, but he doesn't see a compromise.

"XB." He automatically looks to Xisuma when he says his name. "I am truly sorry I never addressed this with you before. I'm sorry it's been affecting you for so long."

"It's not your fault," XB replies. Xisuma shakes his head.

"I should have done more for you. And I'm willing to offer that now." XB’s fins twitch in confusion. "What do you say we try and clear your name?"

"You don't need to do that for me."

"I want to. The others want to." Xisuma crosses the room, sitting down in front of XB. "That's what I'm offering. You can stay with us. We want you to stay with us. And we'll help you achieve this. However we can."

"Nothing that would put you in danger," XB corrects.

"Nothing that would put the Hermits in danger," Xisuma agrees. XB shuts his eye, considering what that would mean for him. It's not like everyone would believe it. It's not going to solve all his problems. But it's a start. He can't just- keep feeling guilty forever. He's so tired of it. "You're family, XB. We want you happy." XB nods, leaning forward. His body is heavy with relief. Xisuma welcomes him into his arms.

"Okay," he agrees, "I want the same."

XB pauses at the sound of loud shouting coming from the park. He turns, watching Keralis jump to the fence delighted. Hypno laughs, gently pulling XB to watch.

"You can't get me!" A girl yells, dark cornrows pulled into a bun. She climbs onto the play equipment, standing with confidence at the top. Another girl runs to the ladder, her hand held in mimic of a gun. Her blonde hair is done in a braid.

"You can't run forever!" She follows it up with loud 'pew's, hanging off the ladder as she pretends to shoot.

"Yeah, I can put you to sleep!" Another boy climbs up the slide, his brown hair falling into his eyes. Keralis is chirping in excitement, watching with a wide smile. The chirps attract the attention of the blonde. She gasps, losing her grip on the ladder and falling backwards.

Keralis makes a surprised noise. He jumps the fence, rushing to the girl's side. XB doesn't see any parents around, following with Hypno.

"Hey, little madam, are you okay?" Keralis asks, crouching down by the girl. She sits up, bouncing forward with glee.

"You're Hermits!" She cries, voice high and squeaky. The other two kids are peering at them around the play equipment. Their mouths hang open.

"We are!" Keralis agrees. "And what's your name?" The girl's hands spread out across the spongy playground floor.

"I'm Flora!" She grins. "I like it 'cause it starts with an 'F', like False." Keralis nods, offering his hands to stand the girl up again. She wobbles on her feet, spinning to show off her plait. “And we have the same hair colour! It’s so cool!”

"Yeah, False is really cool, isn't she?" Keralis watches with a carefully controlled smile. It’s cute how he tries not to scare them. She jumps, holding her arms out wide.

"She's so cool! She's my favourite."

"Not as cool as Stress!" The other girl calls, running into her friend's back. She nearly sends them both sprawling over again. "She helps people, no matter what! I want to do that." Hypno joins Keralis, pulling XB over with him.

"A very noble cause," Hypno tells her. "I'm sure you'll be amazing." She puts her hands on her hips with a grin.

"Yeah. I'm gonna be the best doctor you've ever seen."

"Yeah, but Stress doesn't have four arms," Flora points out, mimicking each style of weaponry. "How cool would that be?" Keralis laughs, a series of cheerful chirps escaping with it.

"They're both cool, how about that?" He suggests, before it turns into a full argument.

"What about you?" Hypno encourages, holding an arm out for the boy. "Do you have a favourite?"

"His favourite is XB," the dark haired girl says, pointing at him. XB places a hand on his chest, unable to contain a squeak of surprise.

"Me?" He checks, not quite able to believe that. The three nod their heads. They peer up at him in a semi-circle, with bright eyes and curious faces.

"You can put people to sleep like Hypno-" the boy points at him, "-But you got such a cool backstory!"

"Mm-hm!" Flora nods quickly. "Framed by an evil company, joining the Hermits to do good across the universe!" She poses towards the sky, pumping her fist and bending a leg up. XB laughs softly, finding himself hiding behind his hand.

"Oh, oh, oh!" The boy jumps forward, looking between Hypno and XB. "Can you put us to sleep? That would be so cool!" Hypno laughs at that, joined by Keralis's squeaky giggles.

"I don't think that would be smart." He pats the boy's hair, smiling at XB. "But, if you've got something for us to sign, we could do that?" The girl claps, grabbing Flora's hands excitedly.

"We've got our cards!" She shrieks. She grabs the boy's hand. "Ben, come on, let's get them!" The trio run off across the playground, digging in their bags. XB can see the look Hypno and Keralis are giving him. He smiles, ducking his head in embarrassment.

"Don't you two start," he warns, hiding behind his hands. Keralis leans over, gently wiggling one of XB's fins.

"You're his favourite," he teases, voice sing-song. XB laughs, hiding even further.

"Noooo," he whines. Hypno puts his arm around XB's shoulders, pulling him into a side hug.

"And they're smarter than the press," he tells XB, his voice trying to sound serious, but playful all the same.

"Much, much smarter!" Keralis agrees.

"Only 'cause of you guys," XB reminds them. Keralis takes XB’s other side, pinning him between his friends.

“Nah.” Keralis rubs his fist against XB’s head. “You’re just finally getting the love you deserve.”

“Absolutely.” Hypno tilts around so XB can see his smile. XB ducks his head, embarrassed. But the feeling doesn’t leave him. Not as they talk to the kids, signing their cards and telling them (child friendly) stories of their travels. Or amongst the loudness of the other Hermits. His family. He’s a Hermit. And the people who care about him are the ones who matter.

#space outlaws #space outlaws au #not gonna maintag this one lmao #my writing #tbh im just a sucker for ppl reassuring others #knowing you have a place somewhere #its good stuff #also u can somewhat track time passing across seasons by who appears lmao #and i liked the lil side things i snuck in #doc n cleo having bonded over similar histories #wels n scar having a bond #the forehead touch is becoming a thing #anyway enough rambling #hope yall enjoyed

166 notes · View notes

fanfictionaries · 4 years ago

Text

Oh So Many Years: Ch. 18 - Until the End

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fred Weasley

Summary:

Fred and Hermione deal with the crazy aftermath of Harry’s brush with dementors. Hermione finds conflict within herself over her feelings for her headmaster, Professor Dumbledore. Fred just wishes the mornings would last longer.

Warnings: Swearing, Death, Smut/18+ NSFW

Author’s Note:

It's a short one this week my loves, but still very good in my opinion. Next few chapters get exciting, so strap in and enjoy this sweet little thing before then.

I'm back to my normal posting schedule - Sundays before midnight (US MST).

And as always, feel free to like, reblog, and comment! I love to hear your thoughts!

Masterlist

<<<Chapter 17

You’ve got a famous last name

But you’re not to blame

Baby, I see you for who you are

Early morning sunlight woke Fred that day the way it normally did. Ever the early riser, it had to be barely five in the morning considering the fact that the sun was just breaking over the horizon. Usually he spent his mornings in comfortable solitude. He could do research without George constantly asking questions or tinker with his inventions without his mum interrupting. Back at the burrow he would often go for a morning fly or drink tea in the garden. But that morning when he rolled over in his bed, the cotton sheets twisting between his legs, he was compelled to do little else but stare at the girl beside him.

Hermione Granger. In his bed. Imagine that. They weren’t wrapped around each other like the morning in the library. She was a good foot away, arms tucked under a pillow and head turned facing him. But somehow, it felt even more intimate than then. Sleeping in the same bed as a girl without doing anything, not even touching, it felt very grown up in a weird way. Fred imagined it’s what proper couples did. Except they weren’t a couple. But still, in the peaceful silence with the sound of her soft breathing and the heat of her body radiating from across the mattress, Fred thought it would be very easy to pretend that they were. To pretend for just a moment that he was good and lucky enough to do something so adult and dare he say romantic with Hermione. Fred felt a pull in the pit of his stomach as the witch across from him gave a little shaky breath in her sleep.

His thoughts went back to his conversation with George at dinner a few weeks ago. He was honest when he voiced his worries then. Was the way he felt for Hermione the same way he felt for Angelina? Perhaps a few months ago he’d have said yes. But now, looking at the witch in his bed, he was pretty sure he’d never felt this way with Angelina. He wasn’t sure what that “way” was, but it was certainly different from any “way” he’s felt before. He wasn’t sure how long he laid there, staring at Hermione. It might have been a few minutes, or it might have been an hour. It didn’t really matter.

When the colour in the room began to shift from warm oranges to light yellows, he decided it was probably best to wake Hermione before George woke up. The last thing he needed was a repeat of the library. Speaking of George. Looking over his shoulder, he saw his twin’s head still buried deeply under a mound of pillows and sighed in relief. Fred reached out and rested his hand on Hermione’s shoulder. He rubbed up and down the length of her arm gently.

“Hey,” he said, voice so low you could barely call it a whisper.

Hermione’s eyes fluttered open and her mouth stretched wide in a yawn. For a moment, confusion flashed across her face, quickly replaced by recognition and a light blush.

“Hi,” she whispered back, the side of her head pressing further into the pillow.

There was a brief silence as Fred decided on what to say next. There were plenty of things he wanted to say, but all of them fell flat now that Hermione was staring back at him. So instead, he landed on something easy. “Tea?”

Hermione nodded and sat up cautiously, sneaking a glance over at George like Fred had done moments before. The pair tiptoed out of the room and down the hall before descending the stairs and entering the kitchen. It was empty, although the still-warm kettle and smell of baking bread told Fred that his mother was sure to be nearby. He always assumed he must have gotten his proclivity to early mornings from her. Fred approached the kettle, ready to fill it with fresh water and prepare their tea, but Hermione stopped him.

“I’ve got it. You sit,” she murmured, her voice lower and gravelly, having just woken up.

So Fred sat and watched Hermione put the kettle on and slowly prepared their tea. It would have been faster if she had just let him do it with magic, but he could feel the nervous energy rolling off of the witch like a thick fog. He figured she probably needed a moment if she felt anything like he did. A few minutes later they were sat next to each other, straddling the bench seat of the kitchen table, and facing each other – a cup of tea nestled in each of their hands.

Fred took a tentative sip from his cup and relished in the taste. She’d made it perfectly. Strongly brewed with just a splash of milk. He tried not to focus too hard on the warmth that filled his chest at the thought that she’d remembered how he took his tea. Afterall, they’d had tea together enough now for it to be normal. Surely, she knew how Ginny took her tea as well, or George and Ron and Harry even. Fred couldn’t be that special. But then, it was his bed she had gone to last night. Not Ginny’s or George’s or Ron’s.

“So…” Fred began, scratching the back of his head. He felt a prominent part in his hair from where he’d slept on it and was suddenly self-conscious of the state of himself. It was an odd feeling. He’d never cared too much about his appearance before. He ran a hand over it, trying to fix the mess as discreetly as possible.

“So…” Hermione mimicked, chewing on the inside of her bottom lip. Fred watched as the sleep swollen skin tugged inward, coming back slightly damp once she finally released the abused flesh. “I’m sorry if last night was…inappropriate in any way.”

“No!” Fred said a bit too quickly for his liking. He cleared his throat, taking a bigger sip of his tea and scalding the back of his tongue but bringing a bit more clarity to his mind. “I mean, no. It wasn’t—it was fine.”

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, shoulders relaxing a bit. “Okay, good. I was worried you might think it was invasive. I just—”

“—no. You’re more than welcome in my bed anytime. That came out wrong.” Fred scrunched up his face, eyes closing tightly when he realized how his words sounded. He was making a right mess of this. He tried again, “I just meant…do you want to talk about it?”

Silently he really hoped she did, because he needed someone besides himself to speak for fear of saying something else stupid.

Hermione looked down pensively at her cup of tea, thumb rubbing at the side of the cup and face twisting in that oh so familiar Hermione way. “I suppose I should. I’m worried, obviously. About Harry and the Ministry and what’s going to happen. And I can’t help but feel responsible—”

“For what?” Fred couldn’t help but interrupt. Responsible? For what happened to Harry? Ridiculous. “Hermione, none of this is your fault.”

“Not directly, no. But I know Harry. I knew when Professor Dumbledore told us to keep him in the dark that it was a mistake. He’s just so reckless sometimes and he doesn’t think. I should have gone with my instinct and written him anyways,” Hermione confessed, continuing to look down guiltily at her tea.

“Hermione, you can’t blame yourself. There’s no way you could have known that this was going to happen.”

“Except, I sort of did, didn’t I.”

“Well that’s what you get for being so clever,” said Fred, immediately regretting the words. Perhaps now wasn’t the time to make light of a situation. However, his worries were quelled when Hermione let out a short and breathy laugh.

“Stop it,” she smiled, looking up at him through her lashes.

“What?” Fred asked innocently, now smiling himself.

“Doing that thing you do.”

“What thing?”

“That thing where you make everything feel like it’s going to be alright. It makes sulking incredibly difficult.” Hermione lifted a foot and pushed playfully at his shin with her toes.

Fred couldn’t help the genuine smile that spread across his face and melted into his heart.

“Who would I be if I didn’t make light of a situation?” It was his turn to lift his foot and push playfully at her leg.

“Certainly not Fred Weasley,” Hermione responded, both of her feet then moving forward to rest on the tops of his own. Fred left them there, wondering if it was inappropriate but ultimately decided that no, it was only feet.

“Morning—" a yawning Ron came around the corner and into the room “—is the water still hot?”

Hermione sat up straighter at the entrance of her friend, moving her right foot off the top of his left. The small change made Fred frown, but the fact that she kept her left foot, the one protected by the cover of the kitchen table, right where it was, made him feel a bit better. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit of resentment towards his little brother.

“Morning,” Hermione greeted Ron kindly.

“How long have you two been up?” Ron asked, pouring himself a cup of tea, and sitting down across from them with a heavy thud.

“Not long. You’re up early,” said Fred, just then realizing that Ron was in fact up uncharacteristically early.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Ron mumbled, sipping his tea.

Fred and Hermione nodded in understanding.

They sat there, quietly sipping their tea at the kitchen table. It wasn’t long before they realized that the house they’d previously assumed to be desolate in the early hours, was actually uncommonly busy, even for headquarters standards. Fred’s mother was the first to enter the small kitchen, taking out the loaves of bread from the oven and using a towel to cool them quickly before cutting off thick slices. Then came his father which was odd as it was a Tuesday, and he would normally be at the Ministry. His brother Bill, who’d taken a desk job to be closer for the Order, came running through grabbing a piece of bread and greeting them cheerily before disappearing. By the time the clock struck seven in the morning, they’d seen at least twenty witches and wizards cross through the kitchen. Some were very serious, like their father, Lupin, Moody, and Kingsley. Others had a more relaxed mood like Tonks, Sirius, and Fletcher. Fred was surprised Mundungus Fletcher had the gall to be anything but a nervous wreck considering, from what he heard, he was one of the soul reasons Harry was in this mess.

Still, as he watched the scrambling adults run to and fro throughout the house, Fred couldn’t help but find a small amount of humour. Try as he and George might, they could never cause this amount of discourse. Only Harry Potter could thrum up chaos like this. He hoped the stupid git was alright. For Hermione’s sake but also for his own. Harry had become something like another little brother to him over the years and he didn’t know what he’d do if he was expelled. Probably Dungbomb the whole Ministry or charm all the doorknobs in the building to move when you tried to use them. That seemed somewhat fitting.

It was around seven thirty in the morning when the tap of an owl came from the kitchen window. All three of them looked up to see Harry’s snowy owl, Hedwig, sitting on the ledge. Hermione was the first to leap to her feet. Crossing the kitchen she swung the window open and let Hedwig in. Ron was at her side a few seconds later, feeding the bird a piece of bread and taking a rolled-up scroll from Hermione.

There were three scrolls: one addressed to Hermione, one addressed to Ron, and lastly, one addressed to Sirius.

Hermione and Ron’s scrolls said the same thing and Fred could only assume that Sirius’s did as well:

I’ve just been attacked by Dementors and I might be expelled from Hogwarts. I want to know what’s going on and when I’m going to get out of here.

Hermione sat down heavily at the table again, staring down at the parchment.

“What do we tell him?” asked Ron, taking a large bite of bread, and chewing broodingly.

“I mean, we have to tell him something. Don’t we?” asked Hermione, looking at them both with a conflicted expression.

Hedwig flew across the kitchen and perched herself next to Hermione. She reached a hand up to stroke the brilliantly white bird but let out a little yelp and a hiss when it bit her finger. Ron attempted to shoo Hedwig away from Hermione but was met with the same fate.

“Ow! Bloody bird,” grumbled Ron, cradling his bleeding hand.

The bird made another attempt to bite at Hermione and Fred batted her away. Hedwig gave an indignant hoot and flew back to the kitchen counter looking decidedly put out.

“We can’t tell him anything, Hermione. You remember what Dumbledore said,” said Ron.

“Yes, and look where that’s gotten us,” spat Hermione.

“I’m not saying you’re wrong, but even if the Ministry or You-Know-Who weren’t intercepting owls before, they’re more likely to be doing it now.”

Fred thought this was incredibly astute of his little brother. Hermione must have thought so too as she took to chewing on her lip and staring glumly at her empty teacup instead of arguing back.

“We can’t not write back at all. We have to say something,” Hermione finally said, sounding crestfallen.

“Maybe dad will know what to do,” said Ron, standing up and exiting the kitchen to go and search for their father.

It was then just Hermione and Fred in the kitchen once again and Fred took the brief moment of privacy to reach out and place a hand on Hermione’s knee.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright. All these people haven’t been running around like chickens with their heads cut off to not help Harry. He’s got the full force of the Order behind him. We just have to be patient – not worry,” he said, hoping that his words helped and didn’t just sound like empty positive affirmations.

Hermione sighed heavily before responding, “You’re right. I just hate feeling useless.”

“Well if you want distraction, I can help with that.”

He didn’t mean for the words to sound so provocative. In the hectic morning, he’d almost forgotten that they’d shared a bed all night. Hermione however apparently had not forgotten as she blushed a pretty shade of pink from her chest to her hairline, eyes growing slightly wide.

“There’s plenty of things to work on for Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes and you can always knit some more—” Fred thought on his feet, coming up with something that would draw away from his previous statement “—From what I’ve seen, you could really do with some improvement.”

Hermione scoffed, eyes growing even wider now but this time out of surprise from the sheer cheek of his statement, rather than the implication of something more inappropriate. She slapped him lightly on the arm and Fred snickered. He stood then, stretching out the kinks and stiffness from sitting too long so early in the morning.

“Come on then, best get dressed and sorted. We have a long day ahead of us – I’m thinking we start on brewing a few batches of Fever Fudge. I got that shipment of pigeon berry in yesterday and then there’s the Nosebleed Nougats. They need a bit more tweaking. The mustard root works but a bit too well. Practically felt the blood thickening in my veins the other day—”

“Probably too much, or perhaps the potency of the mustard root is too high, have you thought of diluting it?” Hermione asked, standing as well. Fred smiled, liking that he could practically see the cogs in her brain whirring over something that wasn’t Harry Potter and the Wizarding world’s impending doom.

“I was thinking perhaps just cutting the amount in half—” Fred climbed off of the bench and headed towards the kitchen door “—Oh, we also need to work on the Puking Pastilles and then George was saying something about packaging the other day.”

“Yes, I was there. I believe he was saying that you needed some. Packaging makes half the product, you know—” Hermione followed him “—have you heard of the plant ipecacuanha? It grows in South America and muggles use it to induce vomiting.”

Fred gave a dry short bark of a laugh. “No need to lecture me on the importance of style versus substance.”

“I made one comment on the colour of your shirt Frederick once and you still can’t let it go.”

“How can I when it—” Fred stopped, nearly colliding with someone in the kitchen doorway. “Oh sorry mate,” Fred apologized casually, only then realizing that it wasn’t just a random Order member, he’d almost walked into, but his headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.

“Professor Dumbledore—” Fred blanched “—I didn’t mean-I’m sorry—” Could he get detention for calling his headmaster ‘mate’ if it was still the summer holiday? Fred wondered briefly.

“It’s quite alright Mr. Weasley,” said Dumbledore kindly, giving him a calm and polite smile.

“Did you need my mum or dad? Or maybe Sirius?” Fred asked, pointing a thumb over his shoulder vaguely.

“I was actually hoping to speak with Ms. Granger and your brother.”

“Which one? I’ve got about twenty of ‘em,” responded Fred, immediately regretting his knee-jerk reaction to be funny in uncomfortable situations.

Luckily, Dumbledore merely continued to smile, the corner of his mouth twitching up ever so higher than before. “Your younger brother, Ronald please.”

“Right. He went to go find dad. I’ll go get him.” Fred gave a quick glance over his shoulder at Hermione who looked at Dumbledore with an unreadable expression on her face.

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley. Have him meet us in the second-floor parlour, please,” said Dumbledore, staring back at Hermione now with an even more unreadable expression.

Fred nodded, stepping around his headmaster and heading towards the dining room to search for Ron.

There was something very odd and uncomfortable about sitting in a room with your headmaster wearing nothing but your pyjamas, thought Hermione. Especially when you currently had a slight disliking for him. There were a thousand things she wanted to say to the aged man swimming through her brain. Some of it was polite – fair questions about Harry and what their plan was to help him. Some of it was not so nice – stinging insults and belittling of ability to properly lead. The rude thoughts were much louder than the nice ones. So loud, in fact, that Hermione was surprised Professor Dumbledore couldn’t hear them pouring out of her ears. Still, out of all these thoughts she decided to refrain from saying anything until Ron was there and the old man had said what he had to say. Although, Hermione had a good guess what he came to tell them, and she wasn’t at all looking forward to hearing it.

Ron came bursting through the door not too long after her and Professor Dumbledore entered the parlour. Hermione sat gingerly on the edge of the settee this time, leaving only the armchairs for her headmaster. She didn’t mean for the choice in seating to be a power move, but when the bearded man raised an eyebrow giving her a curious look behind his half-mooned spectacles, she realized that taking his previous seat of choice it could be construed that way. In silence response, Professor Dumbledore chose to remain standing. Hermione didn’t know if this was deliberate or not. Ron sat next to her, looking for a moment as if he were going to reach out and cover the hand that sat tensely on her knee with his own. He shook his head slightly, apparently thinking better of it. This, Dumbledore rose an eyebrow to as well – nosey old man.

Their headmaster paced quietly in front of them, his long fingers steepled in front of him. After a few minutes Hermione wondered why he had asked them to meet with him at all if he wasn’t going to speak. Surely this was a waste of time.

“Sir, Ron and I both received messages from Harry this morning,” said Hermione, unable to bear the silence anymore.

Professor Dumbledore stopped, his steepled fingers breaking apart as he turned to them.

“Ahh, I assumed as much. I also assume that he sent a message to his Godfather as well?” It was a question, but he said it with such conviction that it sounded more like a statement.

They nodded.

“He wants to know what’s going on, yes?”

They nodded again.

“I trust you have not given him any information.” The statement was slightly chiding. As if they were small children and he a well-mannered parent reminding them of the rules.

Hermione opened her mouth to respond but Ron beat her to it.

“No, Professor. We haven’t.”

“Good, that’s good,” said Professor Dumbledore distantly, and he began to pace again.

Hermione felt herself prickle. Where was the formidable man she’d seen the night before, storming into headquarters, leader of the Order of the Phoenix, fire ablaze in his eyes and purpose in his step? He looked ready to fight an entire army then, but not now. Here, he was distractedly contemplating something as if they had all the time in the world.

“Sir, I know you said that it’s important not to write anything that could give information away, but shouldn’t we at least write back? I’m sure Harry is crawling up the walls right now, wondering what’s going on. Don’t you think it’s best we give him something?” Hermione stared hard at her headmaster, feeling conflicted. This was a man she’d looked up to for years. It felt wrong to question him, or worse feel a waning for the respect she held.

Professor Dumbledore seemed to contemplate her question for a moment, before turning to them both and answering, “No, I don’t think it is.”

In the end their headmaster had made them both swear to not write Harry back at all. Not even a single word. By the time he’d swept out of the room and Hermione and Ron had made their way back up to the third floor, Hermione was beyond frustrated.

She slammed the door to Ron’s room open and barged in. It was her time to pace the floor, but instead of imitating Professor Dumbledore’s steady and sure steps, she took quick and angry strides.

“Ridiculous! It’s absolutely ridiculous! Barmy old man…” Hermione seethed, placing her hands on her hips. She could feel her hair growing in crackling frustration and for once she didn’t try to flatten it. She didn’t care. The only thing she did care about in that moment was Harry.

“Hermione…” Ron began, sitting down on his bed.

“I knew it! I knew we should have given him something more than ‘Hey Harry, sorry your summer’s crap, but there’s big stuff happening here. We’re so busy, wish you were here!’. I just knew it.”

“Hermione—”

“I mean, who is he to decide what’s best for Harry? He barely knows him!” Hermione threw her hands up into the air.

“Hermione,” Ron said a bit more forcefully this time, pulling Hermione out of her rage and back into the present. “Look, I know it sucks, but we’ve got to follow orders. I mean, he is the adult after all and we’re just kids. Bit low on the pecking order to be making big Order decisions.”

Hermione slumped, sitting down on the bed next to him and laughing cynically. “Since when are you the practical one and I’m the hot-headed one?”

Ron laughed as well. “Well, you’ve always been hot-headed, but my talk with dad before Dumbledore got here helped put it in perspective. He said, it’s best not to send anything Harry’s way because they’re planning on going and getting him. They don’t want anyone knowing – makes it more safe I suppose.”

“I know…I guess it’s just that…Harry’s going to be so mad at us,” groaned Hermione, letting her head fall into her hands.

“Maybe he’ll understand once we explain everything,” Ron proposed.

Hermione shot him a wary look and Ron looked back at her with a tired but hopeful expression. The two of them stared at each other for a moment, before breaking out into a light laughter.

“You’re right—” Ron breathed deeply “—he’s gonna be furious.”

“He’ll probably yell at us,” sighed Hermione.

“And do that self-pitying thing where he says we couldn’t possibly understand,” added Ron.

Hermione gave a humourless laugh through her nose.

“Sorry if your visit hasn’t been as fun as you expected,” said Ron lightly.

His comment caught Hermione off guard. It was an incredibly thoughtful thing to say.

“It hasn’t been too bad. Better than spending the summer at my grandparents. At least here I have friends and of course, it’s never boring,” laughed Hermione, giving Ron a small smile.

The ginger boy smiled back, glancing to the hands in her lap in the same contemplative manner as in the parlour. This time, however, he did reach out and take her hand in his. His hand was nice, warm, and friendly, and while Hermione wanted so desperately to just enjoy the weight and comfort of it, she couldn’t help but think of how it didn’t feel anything like Fred’s. It was nice nonetheless and so she let it be, placing her right hand over his and squeezing it firmly. Ron really was a good friend when he wanted to be.

And Ron wasn’t the only good friend that week. It seemed the five of them: Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Fred, and George, all took turns the next three days acting as each other’s emotional supports. Every time one of them showed the slightest bit of worry or stress when it came to the topic of Harry, the others would band together to distract them. The twins were the best at it, having had years of practice distracting people, but Hermione found that Ginny was best at changing the subject with George. All she had to do was say she could do something better than him and he was immediately on the defence, demanding that they hold some kind of competition. Ron was surprisingly good with Ginny. He had gotten into the habit of spouting his opinions on certain quidditch teams whenever his little sister seemed to be in a mood. And Hermione found she could pull Fred out of whatever pensive thought he was having by teasing him over silly things like the way he held his quill or how he wrote the letter G. He seemed to get both endless amount of confusion and entertainment from the odd comments and it was easy to not focus on serious things when you were debating something as inconsequential as how to properly write a letter.

Mrs. Weasley also kept them busy. Tasks seemed to triple in amount and intricacy after Harry’s run-in with the dementors. Hermione knew it was to keep them out of the way. There were more Order members in and out of headquarters that week than there had been the entire time she’d been there that summer. Mrs. Weasley so desperately wanted them to know as little as possible about what the Order was up to, especially the twins. Hermione still remembered the way the Weasley matriarch had turned three shades of red when Fred and George stated they wanted to go with the party that was to pick Harry up that Friday night. You’d reckon she was a tea kettle with the way steam poured from her ears at the notion.

“You know she only said no because she cares, right?” Hermione said later that night in a whisper. George was sleeping soundly in bed beside them and while he was a sound sleeper, neither of them wanted to chance waking him up. Sirius and Professor Lupin were in the library once again. They had hogged the space since Harry’s brush with the dementors and while Hermione had come to think of the library as her and Fred’s space, she couldn’t really be mad. It was Sirius Black’s home. Not hers.

“I’m annoyingly aware of that,” whispered Fred back, pouting a bit like a child. “I just wish she cared a little less.”

“No you don’t,” said Hermione, giving him a pointed look before yawning deeply. It was late.

Fred caught the yawn, laying down and pulling his covers fully over him. “Are you staying?” he asked, so casually you would have thought he was asking if she’d like a late-night cuppa and not whether she’d be sharing his bed again.

Hermione was a bit torn. On one hand, yes she very much did want to stay and on the other, she didn’t fancy someone finding them or worse, Angelina finding out. The other girl already didn’t like her. Still…

“Just for a bit longer. Then I really should go back to my room,” said Hermione, laying down as well and bringing her face parallel with Fred’s. “Harry’s going to be angry, you know.”

“Hmm?” hummed Fred sleepily, eyes now closed as his head rested on the pillows.

“When he gets here tomorrow night. He’s probably going to yell – mostly at me and Ron. He always likes to yell at us when things get tough. I imagine it’s easier since we’re his friends. Ya know?” Hermione twisted up her face at the thought. Why was it so much easier to be mad at those you were closest to?

“Do you want me and George to keep an ear out? We can pop in if he gets particularly nasty.”

Hermione’s heart gave a little tug at Fred’s sweet and sleepy offer. “It’s just Harry. He’s been through a lot. I can handle him,” she responded half-heartedly.

“I couldn’t care if he were Merlin himself. Doesn’t mean he gets to yell at you.”

Those were Fred’s last words before he fell into a deep and peaceful sleep. It was much deserved too. When they weren’t distracting each other or doing one of the endless chores Mrs. Weasley gave them, Hermione was keeping their noses to the grindstone when it came to their business. Less than a month left of the summer and she insisted that they get a good inventory if they were going to take out more advertisements in once the school year started. Plus brewing got a bit difficult with classes and other school obligations. As a result, both her and the twins were looking more tired these days. But then in the moonlit room, it was nice to see Fred’s face relaxed in sleep. He looked young and peaceful and devastatingly handsome. Hermione’s eyes played connect the dots with the freckles on his face for a while, making a game out of it. She tried to spot as many constellations as she could on the cloudless map of his face. He had Cygnus over the bridge of his nose and Gemini right under his left eye.

Those were Hermione’s last thoughts before she fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.

Chapter 19>>>

Taglist:

@theworldisugly-22

@aoonai

@sjh-07-10

@is-it-madness

@i-d-e-g-a-f

#fremione #fred x hermione #fred weasley #hermione granger #fanfic #fanfiction #romance #slowburn

34 notes · View notes

leafs-lover · 4 years ago

Text

Because Two People Got Drunk: 28

Series Masterlist

Chapter 28

A/N: So sorry about the delay! I don’t know anything about preeclampsia, I did some research but I tried to not get too hung up on the details.

Summary: You and Fred have some hiccups as your due date approaches.

Warnings: Swearing, cheating, angst, mentions of drinking Word Count: 6500

“Morning” you sing walking into Oliver’s room. You open the Penguin’s curtains allowing sunlight to fill the room.

Fred is on the road having played Philly last night for round one of the playoffs. It was game 6, and the Penguins won securing the path to the second round. After losing games 4 and 5, games the media ripped apart Fred’s performance. They were up in game 4 going into the third period, but a fluke goal with a bad bounce gave the Flyers momentum and they ended up making a comeback. They should have won game 5, but the team just didn’t show up only getting 15 shots but letting 40 at Fred. The media blamed Fred for both loses, and you know it bothered him even if he doesn’t bring it up to you.

Game 6 was a super close game, and Oliver was too excited to sleep; you ended up watching the entire game and overtime, he didn’t fall asleep until after midnight. You let him sleep in until 9 but decided to wake him up so his entire sleep schedule isn’t messed up, even if it means a cranky two year old.

You watch his heavy eyes slowly close while he struggles to stay awake. You walk over and sit down beside him on his bed. You brush the red curls from his forehead and place a soft kiss there “time to wake up sweetie” you say softly. You hear him whine softly and roll onto his side trying to fall back asleep.

You laugh lightly and pull the blankets off of him and he groans “no mommy.”

“I made you breakfast” you say poking his side tickling him. Your toddler’s weakest point is how ticklish he is, which has helped you turn around a lot of potential meltdowns. He laughs slightly squirming to get away but you keep tickling him while his laughing becomes louder.

“You going to get up now?” you ask while your son continues to laugh. Through his breaths he squeals “yes” and you finally stop.

After the bathroom and helping him get dressed you head downstairs with Oliver, you help him into his seat at the table. You place his breakfast and orange juice in front of him and sit beside him drinking a tea, having eaten earlier while he slept. You pull your phone out and start scrolling through Instagram while Oliver rambles about Fred coming home today.

“Yeah he should be home soon” you respond smiling at your son who lights up at your words.

“Daddy played good” he says putting a piece of French toast in his mouth.

“He sure did, he was very good.”

“When he play next?” he asks scooping some food into his mouth.

“I’m not sure, not until the other teams are done. So he will be home for a few days” you say taking a sip of your tea when you hear a ding on your phone.

Oliver returns to his breakfast and you click on the button to see a message from someone you aren’t friends with, you scan over the message reading it a few times when you hear Fred’s shoes on the hardwood as he walks down the hall. You lock your phone and set it down on the table.

“Daddy” Oliver squeals running down the hall jumping into his arms. Fred chuckles and picks him up, holding him tight for a long hug while he slowly walks into the kitchen.

“Hey Ollie I missed you” he says kissing his cheek.

“Missed you too daddy” he says with his arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

“I heard you stayed up late watching the whole game” Fred says setting him back down at the table and he places a soft kiss on your forehead. You can smell the whiskey and beer from last night that is lightly disguised by his mint toothpaste. You know the team went out after the game for dinner and some of them were going for drinks at a bar after. Based on the whiskey smell and bags under his eyes it’s obvious Fred joined them.

“Yeah I watched the game with mommy. You had so many saves daddy” your son coos from his spot at the table.

Fred smiles rubbing his hair and sits down beside you, chatting with Oliver who shares his excitement over the win and moving on the second round. You sit there quietly drinking your tea half smiling while Oliver rambles on. After eating Oliver jumps down and walks over to his toy room leaving you and Fred alone at the table while you tap your fingers against your empty mug.

“I missed these boys too” he says rubbing your stomach “and I missed you too skat.” He leans in to kiss your cheek, you smile lightly at the contact but turn away slightly, causing a scowl to reach Fred’s face. “Smuk what’s wrong?” he gently brushes your hair behind your ear to further expose your face to him.

“Nothing” you mumble, pushing your chair back. You try to stand up and gather the dishes but Fred grips your wrist pulling you back into your seat.

“Kære it’s been over 3 years. I know when something is wrong and I know when you are lying. So save both of us time and just tell me what’s wrong” he groans.

You take a deep breath rolling your eyes; sometimes you wish Fred couldn’t read you like a book. You mindlessly play with your phone, flipping it upside down in your hand.

“Please babe” Fred says. You slide your finger over the sensor on the back unlocking the device, the Instagram messages displayed on the screen. You silently slide the phone across the table to him, your right hand rest on your stomach while Fred releases your other wrist and picks up your phone reading the messages.

He scans the messages a few times; when you hear a loud noise from the play area. You stand up and walk over to Oliver’s play area, you see a bunch of his blocks scattered around on the floor “my tower fell” he laughs upon seeing you. You chuckle lightly and he starts to rebuild his tower while you sit on the nearby loveseat watching your son. You feel the weight shift as Fred sits down beside you, spinning your phone in his hand.

“This isn’t true smuk” he says lightly watching Oliver play with his toys.

“I would have believed you, if it wasn’t for the pictures” you whisper, your voice catching in your throat.

The messages are from a woman in Philly who was out with some friends and recognized some of the players at the bar. She sent you a couple different pictures and explained that she used to date a Philly player for a couple months until she found out he was cheating on her all the time during road trips and she “thought you would want to know.” She explained that the guys were getting pretty cozy with a group of women at the bar and she saw Fred leave with one of them.

The first picture she sent was taken from behind the group. Fred and a couple players are standing at the bar with a few women all of whom are gorgeous. He is leaning in close to talk to a blonde his arm draped over her shoulder; her hand resting on his lower back while she is tucked in close under his arm. The second is the guys sitting at the table, Fred is in the background but the same blonde is sitting beside Fred, you can tell because of the pink sequined shirt is the same as the first. They are sitting extremely close together, laughing at something.

These two pictures seem to be relatively innocent, and nothing that is overly concerning to you; women are always approaching players out in public and it’s not the first time someone has sent you pictures similar to this. You have learned to ignore these types of messages, because you trust Fred and know these types of women are mostly looking for attention and have no truth.

If it was just these two pictures you would delete these messages not bothering to tell Fred. But the next picture has this woman sitting on his lap; Fred’s hand is laced in the women’s hair, holding her face inches from his. There is a large smile on his face while she is looking down towards his lips. The worst part is that smile has been reserved for you for the past 3 years; it’s the way he looks towards you.

“I’m not an idiot, I know what happened next” you scoff wiping the tear from your eye. You push off the seat, your stomach at 31 weeks making it difficult to get up.

“(Y/N)” Fred whispers helping you stand up, his hands on your hips helping to steady you. You walk away to the kitchen leaving Fred standing alone.

“Baby” he calls out walking over to you.

“Oh don’t you dare… don’t you baby me” you scoff your tone rising. “You don’t get to fuck another woman and then come at me with baby.”

You open the cupboard and reach up for a cup, but your bump makes it hard for you to reach to the second shelf. You feel Fred step up behind you placing a hand on your lower back as he reaches around you for a glass. Normally you would feel his touch from your core to your toes, it would make you weak. Make you want to hop up on the counter while Fred grips your hips pulling your entrance closer to his hard member. But today, in this moment, you want him to be as far away from you to never touch you again. Fred walks over to the fridge, pulling out your favourite juice and pouring some and handing it back to you.

“I didn’t fuck her” he says back to you, you shake your head and take a sip.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” you ask him rolling your eyes. “Even if she didn’t say you left with her it doesn’t take a genius to figure of what happened next.”

“I swear I didn’t fuck her, I didn’t do anything with her. I know how this looks and -”

“It looks like you are two seconds away from making out with that girl” you bark at him “and a half hour away from pressing her up against the wall in your hotel room.” You feel tears welling in your eyes and slowly start to fall down your cheeks. “Your girlfriend is pregnant and huge, she is too sore for sex or really anything at this point so it makes sense that you find someone else. I just wonder how long this has been happening, how many other girls there have been”

Fred’s large hands come to your face; he gently cups your cheeks while using a thumb to wipe your tears away but they keep falling down your cheek. You look up at him seeing his brown eyes are glazed over, waiting for the tears to fall. “First of all I love seeing you pregnant you know that” a hand slides over your stomach gently rubbing you “Lastly and most important babe, I didn’t sleep with her or anyone else. I love you. I want you, only you” he whispers. You are sure if he were to try and use his full voice it would crack and his tears would fall along with yours.

You feel the sincerity in his voice and you step closer to him, wrapping your hands around his back while you grip his tee. Your face falls into his chest, his hands gently stroking your back. “Promise?” you sob against him.

“I swear I didn’t sleep with her” he pulls you in tight to his chest; you stand there for a few minutes holding each other. You can hear Oliver in the toy room, talking with some of his action figures. You can hear Fred’s constant beating of his heart. Your breathing begins to steady, your sobs slow. You think he is telling the truth, while the picture does look somewhat compromising; a picture without context can be misleading.

“Then what is happening in the picture Fred? I want to trust you but what would you think if this was reversed” you sigh against him pulling back. You see the wet spot where your tears have stained his shirt. You tilt your head up and look at Fred, his hands slide to your hair and he looks down at you.

You meet his gaze, staring into his golden brown eyes. While Fred can read you, you also can read him. Looking into his eyes you see him looking past you, trying to keep you slightly at bay. Instead of feeling his authenticity, you sense he is holding something back from you. You blink back the few remaining tears as your eyes have dried, feeling Fred take a gulp.

“I didn’t sleep with her” he repeats “but…” he trails off taking a deep breath. “But I did kiss her” he practically whispers that statement, you aren’t even sure he spoke those words they were so quiet.

Silence falls in the room; you can hear your clock ticking on the wall while you process what he said to you. Seconds turn to minutes while you feel your body go numb. Fred continues to gently stroke your back waiting for you to respond. Your chest tightens while your breathing increases, you can feel your heart pounding in your head. You bring your hands to Fred’s chest and push him away from you.

“WHAT?!” you say in disbelief. You try to be firm but your voice quivers “you kissed her, you kissed another woman?!”

“Yeah I did, but you need to stay calm. It’s not good for your blood pressure” he replies.

“You just told me you kissed another woman and now you want me to be calm! You can’t be serious Frederik” you yell at him throwing his arms off of you. You take a few steps to stand on the other side of the island, crossing your arms around your chest. Tears build in your eyes, and fall down your cheeks, your body shakes as you begin to sob. You start to feel uneasy on your feet, anger coursing through your veins. You reach down and grip the side of the counter steadying yourself taking a few deep breaths. You feel your knees getting weak, legs trembling under you.

“(Y/N)” he says walking towards you.

“Stop” you whisper “Do. Not. Come. Closer.” You take a deep breath, your vision blurred with your tears.

“Okay, okay” he whispers “I won’t come any closer, but can you please sit down…for the babies. I don’t want you to fall” You can’t see him through your tears but you can hear the pain in his voice. You move a few feet, falling into the stool at the island, your hands shaking.

“How could…” you stutter out. “How could you? How could you do this to me? To us? To Oliver?” Silence falls over the room while you cry into your hands.

“I don’t have a reason, or an explanation. Nothing…I’m just an idiot and I fucked up. I…I” he trails off, his voice cracking. You can hear the disappointment in his voice “I am so sorry” he whispers. His voice is closer; he is now sitting on a stool beside you.

You both sit in silence you can hear Oliver playing in his playroom, you hear some of his toys hitting the floor while he babbles to himself. You sniffle using the sleeve of your shirt to wipe your eyes, focusing on your breathing.

“Fred I am 31 weeks pregnant with twins, our second and third babies. What were you thinking?” you ask turning your head to look at him for the first time in minutes. You can see the pain and disappointment on his face, while he looks down at his hands that are resting on the counter. You reach out and grip your glass, but your hands are trembling too much for you to bring it to your lips.

“I wasn’t” he whispers.

“No, that isn’t a reason for this. There is a reason why you did this and I want to know” you say firmly.

His gaze doesn’t change as he brings a hand up to wipe the side of his eye brushing away some tears. He takes a deep breath and another before finally bringing his eyes up to yours.

“All this” he motions around the room “you, Ollie, the babies. I love all this so much, but it’s been a little stressful.”

You lightly scoff at his comment while he ignores it and keeps talking. “With the struggles you have been having, blood pressure, stress and discomfort I try to take some of the burden to ease things for you. And that’s my job to do what I can to help you. I can’t be pregnant so I try and make everything you experience manageable. We have the cleaning lady, massages and Christie; but it’s not enough I feel like I need to be doing more. And then there is the stress of my job, I feel like I can’t talk to you about it without feeling bad because you are dealing with so much more right now. The guys were all just having a good time drinking, celebrating the win when this group of women came over and it was just a causal conversation. It was nice to have someone to talk to, to help me forget about things even if for only a minute.”

You stare at him listening to his words, and it’s all true. Not that it is an excuse or justification for what he did, but you know he has been under pressure. You haven’t made it to many games because a couple weeks ago your doctor told you that you needed to relax more and watch your stress levels. She told you that your blood pressure was high still, but your platelet counts were a little low. She didn’t want to declare it was preeclampsia, but with that diagnosis Fred was worried. He hasn’t wanted you at any games. He wants you to be as comfortable as possible at all time, somethings he knows isn’t really possible at games. It’s also something Oliver has voiced his displeasure in, which has increased your guilt and stress over the situation.

“You have been so sore recently too that I can barely look at you let alone touch you.”

“So because my body is in too much pain from growing two tiny humans, two tiny humans that you wanted and helped make, you can seek attention from someone else” you retort.

“No definitely not. It’s just…” he trails off. He shifts to turn towards, his eyes are bloodshot from crying “it was nice to touch someone and not have my hands be pushed off, to have someone want me.”

“Fred…I am sorry I made you feel that way. This pregnancy has been full of challenges and completely different from my last one. I always want you, do you have any idea how hard it has been to want you every time I see but my body doesn’t agree. To be dripping wet for you every day, and not be able to do anything because I can’t handle it…” you say as a ball begins to build in your throat.

Fred grabs your hands in his “we kissed at the bar, only one time. I knew it was wrong, it felt so wrong so I stopped and left the bar right after. I text you when I got back to the hotel to see if you were awake, I just wanted to hear your voice so bad but you were asleep and didn’t answer.”

“Why did this girl say she saw you leave together? The girl who messaged me isn’t the girl in the pictures; so what would she gain by lying?” you ask him.

“Well after I pulled away, I said I had to go to the bathroom but I went to the bar and paid my tab and got my coat from coat check. I didn’t even bother ordering an uber until I got outside, I just had to get away. She saw me leave and came out not too long after, trying to get me to bring her back to the hotel. I had to practically push her out of the car, she was pretty insistent. But I swear I left her standing on the sidewalk. I wish so badly I didn’t do it, that I could go back in time. I am so sorry (Y/N/N)” he says to you.

“It doesn’t matter though Fred, we’re supposed to be a team. I’m supposed to be the person you talk to about this, the person who helps you escape the stress” you say as tears begin to fall again. Fred’s hand comes up and gently wipes your tears, him looking into your eyes.

“I am so sorry (Y/N” he says bringing his lips to your forehead. You stay like that for a minute, Fred continues to whisper he is sorry while his lips are hovering in front of your forehead. His warm breath and calloused fingers on your cheek begin to soothe you, his presence always brings you back down.

“I love you so much” he whispers tilting your head and placing a soft but hesitant kiss on your lips, his thumbs gently stroking your cheek. You melt into his touch, your hands come up and gently grip his biceps while his mouth opens, allowing you further access. He is slow and cautious with his movements, treading lightly trying to gauge your limitations.

He grips your face firmer, bringing you closer for a passionate kiss when you push him off you. “No Freddie you don’t get to kiss me and make it all better. You don’t get to kiss her and then come here, say sorry and then kiss me as if it didn’t happen.”

You turn your head toward the playroom and can still hear Oliver babbling in there, oblivious to what is happening around the corner. You wipe your lips removing the taste of him from you. You place a hand on your stomach, rubbing it gently while your other wipes away the tears that haven’t fallen yet. You feel Fred’s gaze as he waits for your next move.

You let your tears stop, taking a few deep breaths. You finally turn back to Fred and stand up from the barstool “I need some time” you mumble almost not audible “some space.” You walk over to the other side of the room and grab your phone putting it in your purse while heading to the door.

Fred follows you to the door “what you’re leaving? If anyone is leaving, going to a hotel…it will be me not you; I fucked up and you’re pregnant. Just let me pack a bag and” he trails off for a second “and spend some time with him. I’ll tell him in a couple hours I have a road trip or –“ he rambles on.

“Fred you’re not leaving” you cut him off. “He wouldn’t believe you, I told him when you won last night you would be home for a bit. We have a 7 bedroom house, I’ll sleep in our old bed for a bit. I just…I need a drive” you say walking out the door.

You return a couple hours later, having driven aimlessly around. You called Carlee just to hear her voice, not having it in you to say out loud what happened. You thought if you pretended it didn’t happen you might forget for a minute that it didn’t; but it still felt real. It took so much energy to not break down, especially when she asked how Fred was. You were really happy you were driving, otherwise she would have switched to FaceTime and you wouldn’t have been able to hide you pain.

She told you about her dog Carlos she recently adopted. He is a 4 year old lab husky mix with the sweetest heart, but when he doesn’t get enough attention he starts to howl which he did while on the phone. She also told you about Chris, her new boyfriend. By the time you hung up you realized you had no idea where you were and had to pull over and Google Maps your way home.

When you return home Fred is in the kitchen making dinner while Oliver watches Pixar’s newest movie on the couch.

“Hey” Fred says stirring something in a pot “dinner will be ready in twenty minutes or so.” You give him a half smile and walk over to the fridge, grabbing a drink “I moved some of my stuff to a spare room, you stay in our room.”

“Thanks” you mumble walking over to the couch to join Oliver for the movie. You sit beside him and pull him in beside you, and he fills you in on the movie.

___

“Daddy” Oliver says pointing to the TV. The second round is well underway; highlights from game 5 and Fred’s interview are being played. Fred is currently at the rink for a practice, game six being tonight.

“Yeah that’s him Ollie” you sigh. You sit there for a little while watching Oliver while he plays with his toys. “Hey bud, you want some lunch?” you ask. He looks up at you and nods before returning to his toys; you stand up and wince at the feeling of your feet, you slowly make your way to the kitchen. You open the fridge when you hear Fred’s heavy steps on the hardwood.

“Why don’t you go sit down and I’ll make lunch” he says coming up beside you. You give him a half smile and move to the living room and sit on the couch. A few minutes later Fred brings out lunch and a tea for you and Oliver.

“Daddy, daddy! Want to play hockey?” Oliver asks holding some ministicks after eating his grilled cheese.

“Sorry bud, I have a game tonight. I have to get ready for it. Another time, promise” Fred says.

“Okay.” He pauses briefly before looking at you, “mommy are we going to the game?” he asks with a spark in his eyes.

“No little man. Mommy can’t go to the game” Fred says pulling Oliver up to the couch.

“Why? We don’t get to go anymore” he sulks.

“Because mommy is growing your brothers, and it’s really hard work. She needs to relax and take it easy so they will be safe and healthy” Fred tries to explain but you can see the disappointment in your sons eyes. While you are still upset with Fred, you don’t want it to have an impact on Oliver. Tears start forming in Oliver’s eyes and you feel your heart breaking for him; mom guilt coming in hard.

Even if your doctor hadn’t given you the recommendation you still wouldn’t have gone to any games this round, given the current state of your relationship. Further to that you haven’t really spoken with Fred over the past week and a half. The only conversation you really have had was after your doctor’s appointment where you were given Betamethasone injections; a steroid to help develop the babies vital organs and others about Oliver. The tension in the house reminds you of two years ago when you told Fred you wanted to move out of the condo.

You know it’s been hard on him, he lights up when you walk in the room, and you feel his heart sink when you don’t return the feeling and walk past him. He still talks to your stomach, and rubs it trying to feel one of the babies kick; no matter how mad you are you wouldn’t deprive him of those experiences during your pregnancy.

It’s not that you love him less, because you still do; you were just so mad. But your anger is beginning to subside and you think maybe it’s time to start repairing things before they become too fractured to repair. You want to talk to him while you have time, before the babies come and it gets forgotten in the mayhem of newborns; especially since newborns have a reputation for coming early.

“Maybe we can see if Kathy or Christina can take you to the game” you say stroking his back. Oliver smiles and leaves to go play with his toys.

“It’s okay babe” Fred whispers, wiping a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen. You move closer to Fred, resting your head on his shoulder while he cautiously wraps an arm around you. You feel him stiffen beside you, unsure of what you want to do and not wanting to make anything worse.

“This is so hard. I feel so bad disappointing him” tears are slowly falling down your cheek while you watch him play in front of you. You smell Fred’s familiar cologne, something you didn’t realize you had missed so much until this moment. Fred hums in your ear “babe, you’re an amazing mom, look at him. He is happy, healthy and loved.”

You turn your head and see Fred’s eyes are locked on you, you grab his other hand that is resting on the couch and bring it to your stomach “you’re an amazing dad” you whisper up to him. He lets out a breath, one he likely has been holding in while walking on eggshells around you.

His hand strokes your stomach as you sit there looking at Fred who has turned his attention to Oliver. You notice the bags under his eyes are bigger and darker than normal, his beard is slightly longer than normal in need of a trim and brushing. You see the emptiness behind his eyes while he gently rubs your stomach.

“Maybe tonight you can sleep in our bed…with me” you say looking up at him. A small smile crosses his face while he turns to look at you “yeah?” he asks, and you just nod smiling at him.

“I’d like that” he says, you lean forward and gently press your lips to his “me too” you whisper pulling back. Fred’s arm tightens around you and he pulls you closer to him, your hand scratches through his beard.

“We still have some things to talk about though” you say. Fred just smiles and nods while you rise onto your knees bringing his face closer to yours, you bring your lips back onto his tasting his chap stick. You swirl your tongue in his mouth moaning lightly at his touch you have been yearning for.

“Daddy can you read to me?” you hear Oliver ask causing you to separate, as he walks over to his bookshelf to pick a book out. You slide beside Fred settling under his arm while Oliver crawls onto the couch and snuggles in on the other side of him.

A few hours later Fred has left for the game, but not before placing a long passionate kiss on your lips. You can tell it’s something he didn’t want to end. You practically had to push him out the door so he wasn’t late.

Sportsnet is playing lightly on the TV when you see Oliver come down the hall in his jersey even though the game doesn’t start for another 2 hours. He picks up a ministicks and pretends to play, but you can see the emptiness in his actions. He is only holding his stick with one hand, barely making contact with his puck trying to act excited but you know he is disappointed in being at home.

You wander to your bedroom and get changed out of your sweatpants. You change into a pair of maternity jeans and a loose black V-neck T-shirt before returning to the living room. “Hey Oliver, you want to go to daddy’s game?” you ask. He looks up at you with the biggest smile you have seen on his face in a while “yeah I do mommy! But what about my brudders?” he asks looking at your belly.

“They deserve to have some fun for one night right?” you ask, he nods in agreeance. “We will be okay, promise.”

Oliver nods taking in your words, and practically runs down the hall when you tell him to get his shoes on. A few minutes later you are on the way to the game as Oliver rambles in the backseat. He hasn’t stopped smiling since you told him you were going to the game. After parking you help Oliver out of the car and pull on your Andersen denim jacket you have yet to wear. You grab Oliver’s hand while walking through the building to the wag suite. Oliver immediately pulls away and runs to play with some of the other kids.

“What are you doing here?” Kathy asks hugging you.

“He really wanted to come to a game and I wasn’t feeling terrible so I thought we could come” you explain. You leave out the part where Fred kissed another woman and you have been too bitter and upset to come but are ready to forgive him. You don’t know if she knows, or who of the WAG’s knows but at this point you don’t care.

As the warmups start Oliver runs over asking if you can go down to the ice to watch. Of course you agree and walk down to the ice to say hi to Fred. He skates around the ice a few times and goes to his spot beside the hash marks to do his stretches. Oliver waves at him trying to capture his attention but you aren’t sure he will since he didn’t expect you. He puts his helmet on and begins to skate into the crease to take some warmup shots when he spots you. He skates over to you lifting his helmet; he shoots you a glance before bending down to tap the glass by Oliver. He fist bumps Oliver before standing up to look at you.

You can tell he is happy to see you even if he wants you to be resting at home. You smirk at him and turn slightly to show him the back of your jacket. A large grin crosses his face, and he raises his eyebrows at you, you chuckle slightly. You blow him an air kiss and he smiles and mouths “love you” before skating off into the net.

You return to the suite to watch the game. You have been sitting beside Kathy who has been filling you in on all her wedding details, showing you the bridesmaid dress she has picked for you. You have been shifting in your seat, wincing slightly at the pain you can feel in your lower back. Your shoes begin to fill a size to small, and you are sure your feet have swollen.

It is the end of the first period and the Penguins are up 1-0. You look over at Oliver who hasn’t stopped watching the game, a large smile plastered on his face the entire time. You would be tempted to leave, but you feel so bad for Oliver. He has wanted to go to a game for so long, but you don’t know if you can sit any longer. You stand up, putting a hand on your lower back as you start pacing around the room trying to see if the pain subsides.

“Why don’t you go home” you hear Kathy say coming up beside you “I can tell you are struggling here.”

You look over at Oliver who is chatting with some of the other kids “I can’t make him leave. He has been so upset not coming to games. I finally bring him to one, a playoff one too; I can’t take him home it will crush him. I’ll be fine” you say trying to convince yourself.

“Fred have a car seat in his car?” she asks.

You shake your head no “Fred brought his BMW tonight, but I have his spare key in my purse.”

“Leave him and your keys with me and take the BMW home. I’ll watch him and deliver him to Fred after the game. He won’t even notice you’re gone and you can get home and rest, your due date is soon” she explains.

You laugh lightly knowing she is right “my due date isn’t for 8 weeks so hopefully they hold on a bit longer, but thanks Kathy.”

You give her a hug before walking over to Oliver “hey buddy, mommy isn’t feeling too good so I’m going to go home” you say and see his face fall. “But Kathy said she can watch you for the rest of the game so mommy can go rest” you explain “is that okay?”

“Yeah” he cheers causing both you and Kathy to laugh.

“Okay you be good for Kathy” you say brushing hair from his face “and daddy will drive you home after the game.”

“Okay, love you mommy” he says wrapping his arms around your legs.

You pull out of the garage and start the 20 minute drive home. You are sitting at a red light listening to AM radio, waiting for the second period broadcast to start. You shift slightly in your seat trying to get comfortable, this car isn’t the most ideal for a large belly so you haven’t driven it in a few months. You mindlessly stare out the window tapping the steering wheel. Just as the light turns green you put your foot on the gas and start to advance through the intersection.

You her screeching and feel your body fly forward, the seatbelt locking around you. Next your face and chest feel like they are being punched by a very firm but fluffy pillow. A loud ringing noise echoes through your ears. Warm liquid falls down your face, when everything around you goes dark.

Next Chapter

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

43 notes · View notes

imagining-supernatural · 5 years ago

Text

The Long Day

Part 19 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary: You have a super long day, but Sebastian makes up for it when he comes home for the weekend

Word Count: 2,122

“God, can this day get any longer?” you moaned, looking out the window. Sean glanced over at you and you offered him a small smile to let him know you were fine. “I’m glad you could still drive me today, even though the universe is against my schedule.”

“Yeah, what happened with that? You already pushed me back two hours for pickup this week so you can do your nerdy coffee shop thing without Sebastian yelling at you about germs. I wondered why you pushed me back even further.”

You groaned and sank into the passenger seat. “My fuckin’ alarm didn’t go off this morning and the guy they sent because you had to go to your wife’s graduation like a good husband didn’t even call or text me, so I didn’t know.”

“At least you got some more sleep, right?”

“Ha! No. I woke up at, like, four this morning and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I decided to work. It’s the first project my boss has given me since I’ve been here so I wanted to get a jump start on it. And I got so into my work that I didn’t notice what time it was until Seb called. So I had to wait for your agency to send another driver and by the time I made it to the hospital, there was some sort of accident that took all the nurses, so I had to wait even longer for my infusion to start. Then there was a problem with the machine, so I had to wait for them to fix that before the infusion even started.”

“And then I was late because traffic was horrible…” Sean added.

“And now we’re stuck in traffic and I was really hoping I could relax before Seb came home.”

“What time’s his flight come in?”

You looked at the clock and groaned, once again. “Like, now. We’ll be lucky to make it home before him.”

Sean offered you a smile before refocusing on his attention on the road. “I know you want me to pull out my super speed race driving skills, but I can’t.”

“C’mon, Sean. That’s ridiculous. There’s so much traffic that your race car skills wouldn’t be helpful.” You sat back into your seat and grinned. “Pushing that secret button on your dash to make this car fly would be enough.”

“Ah, you know what? I let Shelly take that car this morning.”

“Maybe your wife should take over being my driver, then.”

“Too late for today. Maybe Monday.”

The drive took forty minutes more than normal. It was a good thing you considered Sean a friend, otherwise it would be horribly awkward to be in a car with someone that long. By the time he pulled up to the elevator in the underground garage, you were beat. All you wanted to do was curl up on your bed… maybe settle in for a nice, long bath.

But you couldn’t. Because Seb was going to be home soon and would want to spend time with you. Hell, you wanted to spend time with him. After your skype calls with him the last few days, something had definitely shifted in your relationship and you wanted to figure out what.

But you couldn’t even stand up straight. You were leaning against the elevator wall and nearly groaned when the elevator car pulled to a stop on the ground floor. More stops meant it would take longer for you to get to the apartment.

“Y/N?”

Your eyes shot open. “Seb!”

He stepped onto the elevator. Just as someone shouted to hold the elevator, he pushed the button to close the doors. “What are you doing down here? Thought you’d be up in the apartment.”

“It has been a long ass day. Sean just dropped me off.”

“Mmm.” He nodded and stepped forward. His eyes hadn’t left your face at all. “I’d love to hear all about it later.”

Later? Why not now?

Your unasked question was answered by his hand on the back of your neck, tilting your head up so he could kiss you.

A surprised squeak was the extent of your initial reaction before your fingers gripped the soft cotton of his t-shirt. Once you’d relaxed into him, he wasted no time parting your lips and pulling your body into his.

You were falling, spiraling, soaring. The way his fingers dug into your skin and his lips moving roughly against yours as if you were the last bubble of oxygen left in the world was making you dizzy.

Ding!

The elevator pulled to a stop and Seb backed up just enough to look into your eyes, his own sparkling. “I’ve been thinking about doing that for so long.”

“I, uh, need a second to restart my brain.”

He grinned cockily and wrapped an arm tightly around you to usher you out of the elevator. “I’ve missed you this week and I was expectin’ you to be in the apartment so when I saw you there, I just…”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been grateful for a man’s lack of self-control before,” you mused. You stepped out of Seb’s hold to lean against the door frame as he dug out his keys. “This is a first.”

“It won’t be the last, sweetheart.” He tossed a wink your way just as he opened the door and motioned for you to enter first.

As soon as you were both in, he crowded you against the closed door and framed your face with his hands, staring for a moment before kissing you again. This kiss was slower, less rushed. It was a shifting of your relationship.

Your first kiss had been urgent, physical. This kiss was a choice. It was a decision. It was a page turned, new chapter. It was a delicately choreographed transformation.

But as electric as the kiss was, your long day still weighed on you and you gently urged his face away.

“Seb, I really hate to stop this, but I’m exhausted.”

“Right, you had a long day.” He pecked your lips once more before stepping back. “Have you eaten dinner yet?”

“I had half a cardboard sandwich from the hospital cafeteria, if that counts.” You knew it didn’t.

“Nope.” With your hand tightly bound in his, he pulled you to the kitchen and sat you on a stool while he went to the fridge. As he set about making dinner, you vented about your day. Once he heated up two servings of leftover soup, you both went and settled onto the couch to watch The Voice.

The empty bowls were abandoned on the coffee table and you were wrapped in Sebastian’s arms by the time Monday’s episode finished and Tuesday’s began. It was then that a thought crossed your mind and you started laughing.

“My god, we’re like an old married couple. It’s Friday night. Normal people would be out on the town, but we’re here catching up on our reality TV and eating fucking soup on the couch.”

“Careful who you call old,” Seb warned.

“You’re like, over a decade older than me, dude. And you play a hundred year old dude on TV. It’s like the casting directors could just tell that you’re fit for that part.”

He shifted slightly from behind you. For a second, you thought he was just trying to get more comfortable, but as soon as one of his arms clenched tightly around your stomach, anchoring you to him and preventing any escape, you started to get concerned.

But not too concerned. “I don’t know what your game is, Stan, but I’m not ticklish.”

“Hmm, is that so?” His lips were at your ear, breath hot against your skin. “So you won’t mind if I test that theory, right?”

“If you want an excuse to feel me up, just ask.” You weren’t ticklish… well, except for one spot. But it couldn’t hurt to try and change the subject.

And if that was the subject you were changing to, you were fully game.

“I’ll keep that in mind for later,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear. “Right now though, I just wanna find out if you’re lying to me.”

His free hand started moving up your side. You forced yourself to remain relaxed and not give anything away. It took Jazmin years to find your one ticklish spot. It wasn’t like Seb could do it in one night. “Seb, this isn’t—Oo, no, no! Seb stop!”

Sebastian’s laughter rang out through the room as you squirmed in his arms. He dug his fingers in even more and your squirming and giggling grew. By the time he finally let up, you were squished between him and the back of the couch, trying to catch your breath. And the sparkle in his eyes definitely wasn’t helping matters.

“Not ticklish, huh?”

“Shit. The one part of my entire body that’s ticklish and you find it in less than ten seconds.”

“Hmmm, only one spot?”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Your hand on his arm did nothing to stop his fingers from inching closer to your side. So you did the very next thing that came to mind.

You kissed him.

He froze for a moment, but quickly overcame his surprise and eagerly returned the kiss. The weight of his body pressing you back into the couch and the corded muscle of his arm beneath your fingers were sending you in a dizzying headfirst tumble.

Sebastian quickly took control of the kiss and you gladly handed it to him. His lips moved languidly over yours, tugging your breaths into his mouth.

“Still wanna call me old?” He whispered against your lips, his fingers digging into your hip.

How the hell could he string words together at a time like this?

“Mmm.” His lips moved down your cheek, landing on your neck. It didn’t make thinking any easier, yet you were still somehow able to come up with a retort. “Baby, I’ve got daddy issues. This age gap thing is really getting me going.”

“Is that so?” He asked, nipping at your neck. “My gray hairs getting you in good snuff?”

“Good snuff?” you giggled.

“You think these gray hairs make me the ginchiest?”

“Ginchiest? Where the hell are you getting these words from?”

He pulled back with a grin. “Doll, I did my research for Bucky. And I was in a movie based in the sixties.”

“So you just had to pull from your childhood memories, huh?” you teased with a shit-eating grin. Eyes narrowed playfully, his hand inched towards the ticklish spot. “No, no, no! Stop! I’m sorry! You are the ginchiest. And you don’t have gray hair.”

“That’s better.” His lips were hovering over yours when he spoke again. “We’re missing this entire episode.”

“We can rewind it later,” you offered.

“But tomorrow’s Dancing With the Stars, remember?”

“We’ve got all day.”

“Actually, I have plans for us tomorrow.”

“Oh?”

He grinned and pecked your nose. “It’s a secret.”

“Big plans?”

There was enough worry in your voice that he picked up on it easily. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing…” You trailed off and he waited patiently for you to gather your thoughts. “It’s just… I’m not completely laid out by the treatment anymore, but my energy is still day-to-day.”

“In that case, we better get to bed. We’ve got some walking to do tomorrow.” His hand landed on your upper thigh, squeezing. “But we can go at whatever pace you want. We’ll take it nice and slow.”

His words fell into a whisper, tickling your ear, heating your body. “Seb…”

With one last squeeze to your thigh, he pushed off of the couch. The second his body lifted off yours, a chill enveloped you and you found yourself pouting.

Honest-to-god pouting.

You never pouted.

“Seb, get back here.”

And begging? God, you never begged. What the hell kind of spell did Sebastian cast on you?

Fuck’s sake, the look he was giving you right now. It was like he was a kid and you were Christmas day. He was looking at you like you were everything he’d ever hoped for.

It should have scared the hell out of you. After all, there was a very high chance you wouldn’t survive the cancer. You would leave him all alone. You should be doing anything you could to create distance between you.

But you were begging him to come back and kiss you and there wasn’t an ounce of embarrassment in your body.

“Much as I’d like to, sweetheart,” he said, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth for a brief second, “I think you’ll like what I have planned for tomorrow. Can’t have you tired before we begin.”

THEY FINALLY KISSED!!!! (That’s a weird thing to be excited about for a couple who has been married for a few weeks) And what plans do you think Seb has planned for tomorrow?

CHAPTER 20: THE MET DATE

#sebastian x reader #sebastian stan x reader fluff #sebastian x reader fluff #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader #marvel fanfiction

156 notes · View notes

yuta-nakamots · 4 years ago

Text

Beautiful Time - h.rj ; Part 4 of 6

Pairing - Vampire!Renjun x Reader

Genre - Fluff i guess?? with some angst in the beginning??

Warnings - Mentions of blood, feeding, general vampire stuff

Summary - Vampires are creatures forced to walk upon the earth for longer than humans could possibly imagine. One would think it gets boring after a while, but not to Renjun, the foreign exchange student who seems to know a little too much about the early twentieth century.

Word Count - 3.2k

A/N - this is the last calm chapter we’re having haha. sorry it took me so long to update. i just started online summer school but my schedule turned out to be somewhat lighter than expected so i’ll try to update more frequently. feedback is greatly appreciated!

Today was the day that you’d be saying your last farewell to your friends and family. It was a day you dreaded and feared for, a day you never thought you’d ever have to endure. You were at the airport, surrounded by your loved ones as they wished you well in your journey abroad. You wished you could trick yourself into thinking that it was just that simple, that you were only going to be away for four years before being able to return, but you knew it wasn’t that easy.

Renjun was there for you the entire time, he was waiting for you at the check-in gate and came to help you with your luggage as soon as he saw you step out of the car. “Hello, my name is Huang Renjun, I’ll be a transfer student at the same university as y/n this coming school year. Nice to meet you” he said, introducing himself to your parents as he struggled to keep a respectful distance between the two of you.

“Oh, that’s wonderful! It’s nice to know that y/n will already have a friend before school starts. She’s not the best at making friends” your mother jokes, oblivious to the way you rolled your eyes at her.

Despite the fact that Renjun was there, your emotions were just too much. You tried your hardest to not let the tears escape your eyes as you hugged your favorite relatives for what just might be the last time, though your crying would be easily justified anyways.

Once your little party had dispersed, everyone leaving the airport to continue on in their normal lives, you turned to Renjun who immediately pulled you into a hug before the tears could start falling again. You let out a sob, your tears wetting his shirt as he held you in his embrace. “Everything will work out, I promise. You won’t ever be alone as I’m still alive” he whispered, his lips almost grazing your ear as he spoke. “I know it’s not the same but you have a family with me. Whether it includes the other guys or whether it’s just us, I’ll stay with you, I’ll protect you.”

You felt numb the entire plane ride, barely even speaking to Renjun other than asking how to say the name of the airport, which he told you was the ‘Changchun Longjia International Airport’ and even taught you the pronunciation in Mandarin. As soon as the plane had taken off, Renjun was quick to raise the armrest between the two of you and pulled you so that your head rested against his shoulder, his arm wrapped around you with his hand gripping your waist.

Renjun felt your intense overflow of emotions from the sadness and grief of parting from your loved ones to the fear of making such a giant change in your life, the excitement of going somewhere new, but also the smallest amount of happiness and fulfillment. He didn’t know the cause of it, but you did. You knew you loved him even if you weren’t big on vocalizing it towards him, but you always showed it to him whether it be through the way you untangled his hair after he spent an hour messing it up out of frustration, or the way you pressed your face further into the hoodie he was currently wearing. You let his scent calm you and eventually sleep overtook you, your energy spent from dealing with so much within just the past few hours.

By the time Renjun is gently rubbing your shoulder and calling your name to wake you, the plane is already about to land. Once you got off the plane and retrieved your luggage, you didn’t even have to think about finding Jaemin, who was supposed to pick you up because that’s literally what he did. Your mind was blank, just absently staring at the ground when suddenly the monotonous tiled floor was no longer under your feet. You didn’t even have enough energy to flinch as Jaemin’s arms held you as he swung you around cooing, “oh my baby is finally here! Do you know how much I missed you? Did you miss me too? I think you did!”

Renjun had to forcefully grab you out of Jaemin’s hold while lightly scolding him, “can’t you see that she’s tired?”

“My little cutie can fall asleep in my arms any day” Jaemin said, pulling you back into his arms and smashing his cheek into yours as if he were a cat. Renjun could only roll his eyes as he took your bags over to where Haechan was waiting, leaning against an expensive-looking car and as you got closer, you noticed it was a Tesla. You were shocked that they had a Tesla, you were even more shocked to find out that Haechan could drive, as none of them had previously mentioned any driving abilities, not that they really needed it with their superhuman speed.

“Did you guys actually steal a car or what?” Renjun exclaimed, clearly just as shocked as you.

Haechan scoffed as he pushed himself off the car, “‘or what’ is your answer. I’ll have you know that we didn’t steal it and it was fully paid for,” he said as he helped Renjun and Jaemin with your luggage, “not by us though. Chenle paid for it. That kid is loaded, I swear.”

At the mention of the new ‘kid’, Renjun’s face lit up as he let out a noise of surprise. As Renjun helped you into the backseat of the car, you made eye contact with him and asked, “who’s Chenle?”

“Ah! Chenle, he’s-” Renjun began, only to be cut off by Haechan, who was buckling himself into the driver’s seat.

“A pain in the ass.”

“Haechan, please be quiet or so help me, I will remove you from this vehicle.” His statement caused you and Jaemin to laugh, only getting an eye roll from Haechan as he started the car. “Chenle is, I guess what you could say, a younger cousin of mine. He’s a whole lot closer to your age though,” that sentence earning a chuckle from Haechan before Renjun reached over to smack the side of his head before continuing, “so he and I are definitely a ways apart in the family bloodline but I heard he was recently turned and he’s in training to take over some business his family runs.”

“Oh? How old is he?” You asked, excited to possibly meet someone who hasn’t been the same age for over ten years now.

Jaemin abruptly turned around, nearly scaring Haechan as he pulled out from the stall, his toothy smile showing as he spoke to you, “he’s only nineteen though he was turned a few years ago so I think he should be about twenty-three maybe.”

“Anyways,” Renjun began, “I think you’d like Chenle. He’s a lot more modern than I am so he’ll probably get your jokes more often than I do.”

“It’s okay that you’re old,” you interjected, “I think it’s cute when you get all confused and I have to teach you.”

Renjun shook his head, letting out a sigh of embarrassment, “The important thing about Chenle though is that he’s still considered a new vampire and I think you’ll find comfort in him since you’ll be transitioning alongside him. You’ll have him to play around with and talk to so it won’t be as lonely.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t believe how boring it was to just have Renjun to talk to” Haechan blurted as he navigated his way out of the airport.

“But you two are like old grandpas,” Jaemin complained, “I had no one to play with and talk to, they were both already some thousands of years old when I was turned. It was like being around mummies” he said, clearly exaggerating.

Despite the overly playful bantering, you were actually thinking about this Chenle guy and you were excited to meet him though you immediately associated him with your imminent fate to become one of them. The thought makes you shudder just a little because you had already done your own research and you knew just how painful it could be.

Haechan seems to always drive a little faster than what seems safe but you’re too tired to care, already dozing off, leaning against the window. The next time you open your eyes is due to Jaemin screaming at you to wake up as the car pulls up in front of a small, traditional, yet cute looking house. The aesthetics of the house immediately sparked the architecture major in you and you knew you could spend hours admiring what you assume to be Renjun’s house, but thankfully said boy pulls you inside the front door, not giving you much time to fully root yourself into the driveway.

Renjun himself seemed to pause in awe when he walked through the front door. “Like what we did to the place?” Haechan asked with a smug look on his face. The interior of the house was almost nothing like the exterior. The furniture was modern but minimalistic, mostly white with occasional wooden accents and grey walls. The difference was almost shocking yet you noticed how there were still traditional elements like the dragons carved into the walls and the gold plating around the light switches.

“Chenle paid for it” Jaemin stated. Again, it was that kid being mentioned with money, causing you to wonder just how much of it he had while Haechan complained to Renjun about how much work it was to remodel, only having himself, Jaemin, and Chenle to do the work. Though when Renjun continued to ignore him and wander off down a hallway, he moved onto bothering you, telling you how he plans to enroll in an interior design program in order to be your other half, who was interested in exterior design.

You playfully pushed him away as you followed Renjun, not wanting to be left alone with the most annoying one out of the bunch. You walked down the hallway to find Renjun and Jaemin already in what you presumed to be you and Renjun’s shared room.

It was a large, spacious room, the walls colored a cute pastel grey-blue mixture, almost the same color as Jaemin’s hair, ironically. Your eyes went from the large closets on opposite sides of the room to the entrance to the bathroom with the beautiful marbled flooring, then finally landing on the large queen-sized bed which was definitely an upgrade from the twin bed that you and Renjun had gotten used to sharing, the other person always half, if not fully, on top of the other.

Haechan quickly joined the three of you and immediately took it upon himself to challenge Jaemin, “I bet I can unpack a suitcase faster than you.” So of course, they both used this opportunity to utilize their enhanced speed to compete against each other in unpacking your suitcases, only slowing down to ask you or Renjun where you wanted a certain item or who it belonged to. You thoroughly enjoyed the show they put on for you, even if it was slightly headache-inducing due to the fact that your eyes couldn’t fully capture them moving so quickly.

By the time you sat down to eat the stew Jaemin had lovingly cooked for you, you were starved. You had barely even taken a single bite when there was a knock at the door. Jaemin left his position in front of the stove to see who it was, exclaiming as he opened the door and letting out a loud “Chenle-yahhhh!”

Your head immediately jerked up at the mention of the name, curious to see what he looked like after hearing so much about him. You were met by his fox-like smile and darkened red eyes as he introduced himself to you, already seeming to know who you were all the while squirming in Jaemin’s hold. “I’m Chenle, though I suppose you could tell already. Nice to finally meet you, y/n.”

“Oh, I’m so happy! Our Chenle is finally talking to a girl! And I can’t believe my two babies are here together~” Jaemin’s incessant cooing causing Haechan to do his infamous dry heave as Renjun directed your attention back to your stew which was already cooling down.

Once Jaemin had calmed down, he took a seat next to you as Haechan and Renjun were busy talking to Chenle about business-related things. You had slowly lost your appetite, as you still associated Chenle with the fact that you had promised them that you’d let them turn you once you settled down here. Jaemin sensed the drop in your mood and didn’t hesitate to grab your hand, that had balled up without you noticing, and drawing shapes on it while reassuring you that it won’t hurt as much as you think. “Y/n, look at me. As long as Renjun is here, it won’t hurt at all. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

He only continues speaking once you take another mouthful of your food. “You’re lucky you have him, though I was lucky enough to have my sister. She turned me to save me after we got into a car accident with my parents,” he looked at you to gauge your reaction, going on after he sees you still chewing, “my parents didn’t make it and she knew they wouldn’t so instead she chose to save me, not wanting to lose all the people she cared for. Personally though, I only really appreciated her after I made the transition,” he looked at you again and you motioned for him to continue while gathering up another scoop. “She spent her early years as a vampire going back and forth between us and her husband. I didn’t realize how much self-control it took until after I had to experience it myself, the constant thirst, especially when your significant other isn’t around.”

You swallowed the food that was in your mouth before asking, “why do you always refer to relationships as if you’re still human? You never just call people ‘mates.’”

“Ah, I think that’s because I’m still fairly new to the whole vampire thing. I still view relationships the way you would, you know? I could be married by now and had kids if I was still human, I think I’d be turning thirty this year” he mused.

While you were lost in the thought of Jaemin having kids and chasing his own little toddlers around, you didn’t notice Chenle taking the seat across from you until he cleared his throat, a little too obnoxiously for Haechan’s liking, getting a slap to the back of his head. The second you looked up and made eye contact with him, he asked “so when are you turning?”

All eyes went to you and Renjun, who had begun stuttering from the sudden attention. “W-we, uh, we haven’t discussed it yet.” If his ears could turn red, they’d have been burning by now.

“Well hurry up then. I can’t wait to finally have someone to play with. Everyone here is so old and boring, they don’t even know what memes are” Chenle quips, earning himself yet another slap from Haechan along with an eye roll from Jaemin, who claims he’s not that old and knows what memes are too.

You miraculously managed to finish your dinner and stayed to help Jaemin clean up the few dishes he had used to cook for you. Haechan and Renjun had ventured off somewhere while Chenle stayed seated at the table, only turning the chair around so he could face you and ask you questions while you did the dishes. Chenle asked you countless questions ranging from when you were born to what your favorite season was and if you had watched the latest trending shows on Netflix.

You could tell he was much closer to your age, as it soon felt like you were talking to just another friend rather than someone who wasn’t even the species as you. Chenle was very energetic and playful, already having taken to teasing you in the slightest ways while cracking jokes that you doubt Renjun, or even Haechan, would understand.

As you finished with the dishes, Renjun had returned to the kitchen, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist while resting his head on your shoulder. “My love, there’s something I want to show you” he murmured into your ear, gently pulling you away from the sink. Jaemin and Chenle followed along as Renjun led you downstairs and through the lounge area you only caught a glimpse of earlier.

While your attention was drawn to all the high-tech gaming devices set up, you didn’t notice the solid steel door Renjun was guiding you to, only turning to look at it as he was turning the handle and pushing the door open, revealing Haechan inside a small room painted almost entirely grey. It resembled the look of a hospital room, except instead of the cot, there was a metal table with leather straps hanging loosely from the sides which Haechan was playing with.

You looked at Renjun, having an idea as to what this room is for, as he places an arm around your waist and steps inside. Haechan looks up and clears his throat loudly, almost as annoying as the way Chenle did earlier except this one is filled with pride. “Lady and not-so-gentlemen,” he began, Jaemin whining from behind you, clearly upset at Haechan’s choice of words, “this room is my work of art, which Renjun had commissioned me to construct. It is complete with state of the art noise cancelling walls and sealed ventilation to aid you in your transfer from human to vampire” he said, with a smirk at the end.

You were taken aback at how blunt Haechan was being, but you didn’t have much time to dwell on it due to Jaemin letting out a loud ‘wOW’ and running to the table, dragging Chenle along and asking him to strap him down. You let out a laugh at their childish antics while Haechan let out a sigh before turning back to you and Renjun and stating, “I’ll be ready whenever both of you are.”

Later that night, as you were cuddling in bed with Renjun after letting him feed from you, you turned to face him in your euphoric haze and whined “Renjunnieee~ when are you going to make me into a vampire? I want to be like youuu.”

“When would you like to do it, darling?” He replied, smiling at your current state, your eyes barely even open as you struggled to stay awake.

“I want it a-s-a-p,” you babbled, “as soon as possible.” Renjun only laughed as he placed a hand on your cheek while running his thumb over your lip. “I need to stop aging now or else I’m gonna end up older than youuuu.”

Renjun wheezed at your worry of passing his frozen age of twenty when yet, he was well over a hundred years old. As you were about to start whining again, he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, effectively silencing you and saying “we’ll turn you as soon as possible then.” He pulled away slowly as your eyelids fluttered shut, smiling to himself as you let yourself drift off to sleep.

@nct-writers

43 notes · View notes