#second show of that weekend was so awesome though i had a ride and it was raining too so we could take a break between sets to cool off | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chucksfavouriteprophet · 3 years ago

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The Cowgirl

Dean Winchester x Reader

Request by @blank-artistry : Hi! I was wondering if I could request a Dean x reader where the setting is like the Longest Ride?

A/N: God I haven't seen this film in forever, but I hope I kinda did it justice! I went a bit different with the reader as the bull rider, so I hope you don't mind, and I added a little smut at the end which is a first for me and I was pretty nervous to do but I just felt like it needed something hahaha. Also, I wrote this with the reader being a girl because I just found it a bit easier, but feel free to change this to suit you.

Warnings: Classic supernatural violence, Dean getting sassed, language and some smutty shit at the end

Word count: 3,949

Sam shook his head and laughed as he glanced at his brother. Dean was standing across from him, ogling himself in the mirror.

"C'mon Sammy, don't tell me these boots aren't the coolest things you've seen in the world? And this hat - man, North Carolina is awesome!"

Sam could tell this was going to be a long weekend. The gig was small, and pretty far fetched if he had to be honest. Bull riding was a dangerous sport - was it really something supernatural that killed those men on the same day every year in the ring, or was it just pure coincidence? In Dean's opinion, "it's never a coincidence", but Sam knew his big brother was just excited by the prospect of watching a proper rodeo event.

Still chuckling under his breath, Sam stood up and patted his brother on the shoulder. "Alright then cowboy, lets get this show on the road." They swiftly left the motel and made their way over to Baby, Sam not failing to notice Dean's newly-acquired swagger. He couldn't be mad - it was nice to see Dean in such high spirits when things had been so rough lately.

Half an hour later, they arrived at the rodeo event. It was a warm May Saturday afternoon, and the place was brimming with stetsons and plaid. God, this was practically Dean's wet dream. He parked up gleefully, hopping out and heading straight into the crowd.

"Sammy, you go see if theres anything weird around the stalls. Imma go check out the ring." Before Sam could even reply, Dean was off, skipping towards the main event. The ring was in the centre of the fair, with staggered seats running all the way around the edge. As he approached, a rowdy bull was getting loaded in, grunting as it resisted against those trying to tame it. From that angle, Dean couldn't tell who was about to ride it, but he made his way round the arena and settled in an empty seat just adjacent to the gate.

Seconds later, a buzzer sounded, the gate flew open, and the bull came tumbling out. It instantly whipped round, bucking ferociously in a desperate attempt to kick its rider off. But you didn't budge. In fact, you swayed with the animal's movements, as though you were part of him. You kept your head down so Dean couldn't see your face, but your shiny y/h/c hair flew across your shoulders under the brown suede hat you wore. He couldn't take his eyes off you. Those eight seconds were the shortest of his life; the buzzer sounded once again and you hopped off the bull, giving the elated crowd a wave before heading back out the gate.

"Er Dean? You find anything? Or were you just enjoying the show?" Sam hovered behind him, looking down smugly.

"Huh? Oh, er, yeah. I mean no. Hey, can't a guy just enjoy himself for a few seconds?" Dean was flustered slightly as he stood up and cleared his throat. "I'm telling you man, that's some crazy sport. Did you see that gal? She - she was awesome!"

Sam nodded, "yeah man, I saw. Pretty cool. Also stupidly dangerous." Dean frowned. "Well yeah, but hell, our job is pretty dangerous too. We can't judge." Sam gave him a small smile. "Yeah, yeah you're right. Anyway, lets keep scanning for EMF for a bit, see if we can figure this thing out."

The Winchesters walked the perimeter of the fair three times, and Dean managed to watch at least another five rodeos in the ring. By the time it started getting dark and the event started closing up, neither of them had found any sign of a haunt.

"C'mon man, I think it's time we called it a day. Theres nothing here." Sam was tired and was dreaming of his bed, even if it was a grubby little motel one half his size. Reluctantly, Dean agreed, but refused to leave until be bought a mega hot dog with some secret sauce trademarked by the town. He was tired too, and although the day had been fun, he was looking forward to heading back and dreaming of the badass girl in the ring from earlier.

Still, he couldn't sleep. There was something that bugged him about the case - yes, rodeo accidents were common, especially when so many events were going on in the Spring season. But ten deaths, one each year for the past ten years, all on the same day, in the same ring? If that wasn't suspicious enough, the circumstances had to be. None of the deaths had happened during a ride - the bodies had all been found in the ring, mutilated by a bull, in the early hours of the morning. They'd occurred during the night, when no one was around, and when all the animals were back in their respective barns and trailers. It didn't make any sense.

After a few hours of searching, Dean found something. It wasn't the sort of thing that would usually have caught his eye, except for the fact that the article below was about a wonderfully busted actress which had drawn in his attention.

"Sam. Sam, wake up!" Dean shook his brother, waving the paper in his face.

Sam groaned and rubbed his eyes. "You're still up? The hell's going on Dean?" He pushed himself to sit up and squinted at the article Dean excited thrust towards him.

"It's not the spirit of a person we're looking for. It's the spirit of a bull." Dean's eyes were wide with satisfaction.

"A-a bull?" Sam wasn't quite awake and looked at his brother questioningly.

"Yeah, man, a bull! See here, eleven years to this day, May 5th, 1997, this bull rider right, it was his last ride, he was a sure thing, fan favourite to win. The competition was rigged, so he knew which bull he was gonna get, and he'd practiced on him for weeks. Dude was gonna make history."

Sam nodded, wondering when Dean was going to get to the point.

"But it went wrong, see? He'd trained the bull to swing left, then right, then right again. He'd like choreographed the moves and all, so he was ready to move even before the bull did. But instead of going right a second time, the bull went left, right, and then left. But his rider, he swung right. Fell straight off on the seventh second. Lost the championship by the skin of his teeth."

"Did he die?" Sam ran a hand through his hair.

"No no, see, he was fine. Mad as hell, but fine. Stormed out the arena and didn't return. Except that evening, he snuck the bull out the trailer and set it loose in the ring. Went wild on it, whipping it and throwing beer bottles at it, making it tear round for hours until it died of exhaustion. Then he upped and left, and the cleaners found the bull's body in the ring the next morning."

Sam was already packing his bag. "So it's the bull that haunts the ring every year. Tries to get revenge for what the rider did to it." Dean nodded. "And guess what? Estimated cause of death of the bull - 1.39am."

Sam froze. "That's the same time each of those people were estimated to have died too." Dean nodded. "Oh, and Sam. What time is it now?"

"1am..."

The fair was pitch black when they arrived. No one was around, and the purring of Baby was the only sound to be heard. The boys tiptoed hesitantly around the stalls until a light caught Sam's eye.

"Dean. There. Look." He pointed in the direction of the ring where a torch was being shone. They heard the gate squeak open and the flood lights jolted on, causing the brothers to wince slightly. Once the coast seemed clear, they quietly made their way across the field and round the back of the ring into the stands.

"Ahh shit," Dean groaned once he saw who was in the ring. He would always be able to recognise the way those y/h/c/ locks shimmied from under that dusty stetson.

"What?" Sam frowned, peering round to get a better look.

"That's the girl from earlier. We gotta get her outta here Sam." Before Dean could move, a voice halted him in place.

"Hey! Up there! Yeah, I'm talking to you two creeps!" You’d spotted them. Hands in pockets, you started walking across the dirt and stared up at them.

"Oh, er, hi, ma'am." Sam stood up slowly, cracking a smile. "Sorry, we didn't mean to bother you or anything but..."

"But if you don't leave right now you're gonna die." Dean swallowed down the words as he felt Sam's eyes burn into the back of his head.

You just laughed. "Die? What, you two dorks gonna try kill me or something?" Sam nudged Dean roughly, giving him a glare before he stepped forward.

"No, no of course not. But er, it's just, it's hard to explain. But every year, on this night, someone dies in this ring. So if you could just, you know, leave, that would be great!"

You’d reached the fence now and leapt up, the shake making the brothers jump slightly. You climbed up with ease until you reached the top and hung your head over, grinning down at them.

"Honey, this is a bull riding ring. People die. It's unfortunate, but it happens. But I ain't gonna be one of them, okay?"

Sam and Dean shot each other a glance. Okay, so you were a stubborn one. "Look, I'm Dean, and this is my brother, Sam. We saw you ride earlier and, I don't know, I-we, thought you were cool. What's your name?"

You scoffed and shook your head. "Y/N. Which, if you had actually watched me ride properly, you'd already know." They knew you had a point.

"Alright then, Y/N, you got us there. But seriously, you need to get out the ring before you get run down by some mad angry steak." Dean gave you a cheeky grin, hoping his charm might help slightly. It didn't.

"Man, it's the middle of the night. I ain't bringing no bull in here without back up, I'm not insane. I'm just scouting out the ring, getting my bearings before the finals tomorrow."

"It doesn't matter." Sam looked at you with such a serious look, it kinda creeped you out. "The bull that's gonna get in here, it'll do so on its own. Its name is Rampant Thunder."

You shook your head. "No, no Rampant Thunder is dead. Everyone knows that story, his jerk of a rider murdered him because he lost a gig years back." You threw yourself over the fence and stormed towards the boys, your face a myriad of emotions.

"We know," Dean said solemnly. "It was this day, this night, 11 years ago. And every year, on the anniversary of his death, he kills someone, in this very ring. And tonight, that's gonna be you unless you do what we say, and get the hell out of here."

You couldn't believe your ears. Who the hell were these guys? You knew people died here more often than in other rings, but hell, this was redneck country and all sorts of crazy shit happened around here. But there was something about their faces that made you question your instincts. The tall one, Sam, looked anxious, constantly glancing around him. You hadn't failed to notice the gun he gripped tightly behind his back. And as for the cute one, Dean. You had seen him earlier, when you were riding. Every time you got on a bull, you found someone in the crowd to latch onto. This time, it had been him, and you’d enjoyed catching those ocean green eyes for those eight seconds. Dean looked downright scared right now, and you could tell that wasn't an emotion he felt often.

"Look, it's getting late anyway. It's gone 1.30am, I ought to be getting going. And not because of some crazy ghost bull you two keep going on about, but because I need my beauty sleep, alright?" The boys seemed content with that answer and stepped aside, making way for you to make your way back out the gate onto the main field. They gave each other a look of relief as Sam nodded towards his watch, hovering at 1.39am. They were in the clear.

Except they weren't. With a few seconds gain on the Winchesters, you started to hurry back towards your car before you froze.

"Hey, Y/N. You alright?" Dean took a quick look around him in the darkness.

"Er, yeah. Sorry, I just thought I heard something. Ignore me, I've been hanging around cows too long, sometimes I can hear them mooing in my damn head!" You chuckled, but it was clearly one of anxiety.

"It's not in your head." Sam breathed. The three of you stood incredibly still as you heard the roar of a cow to your right, followed by the stamping of hooves.

"Y/N. Run!" Dean hollered as he spun round, pulling his gun out in the direction of the the sound. In the darkness he couldn't see a thing except the grey misting of breath some meters away.

You legged it as fast as you could towards the stalls, crouching behind one to find your breath when you felt your were far enough away. What the hell was going on? A fucking ghost bull? This was ridiculous.

But of course, it wasn't. Not when you could feel the warm breath against your ear and felt the bull's saliva drip onto your shoulder. You turned your head slowly, but there was nothing there. Nothing visible, at least. But it was there alright.

Your piercing scream sent Sam and Dean running, weaving between stands, guns at the ready. You were crouched in a ball, rolled up tightly against the corner of a candyfloss stall. Sam fired to your left, the rocksalt penetrating the invisible animal and sending it up in smoke. Dean ran forward, reaching out to you.

"You okay?" You nodded, then shook your head strongly. "No I'm not damn okay, a fricking ghost bull just tried to kill me!" Dean couldn't help but smile at your abruptness. "Yeah, takes a while to get over that stuff." He didn't even realise that you had shifted position to curl into his arms, tucking your head into his shoulder. "Is it dead? Or gone, or whatever?" You peered up at him.

"No," Sam said, reloading his gun. "Rocksalt just blasts it. But it'll be back, and you're it's target. We've gotta get you out of here now."

Dean stood up, helping you to your feet and starting to guide you towards the lot behind Sam, who was poised and ready with the gun.

"Wait." You tugged at Dean's jacket and caught his eyes despairingly. "You said this thing comes back ever year, right? And every year, it kills someone because of the way it was killed?"

Dean nodded frantically, "yeah, that's why we gotta go!" But your feet were planted and you weren’t going anywhere. "That poor animal didn't deserve to die, especially not like that. He was totally abused, and left to die all alone. He was probably terrified. Look, I don't know much about this ghost shit, but surely he's haunting this place for a reason? Can't we free him or something?"

The Winchesters glanced at each other. Damn, you were testing their morality. But you were right. If they just left, the bull would come back year after year, killing innocent people. They came here to stop it, and that's what they had to do.

"Maybe, but it depends. It's an animal, so there won't be any records of where the body is buried and burning the bones is usually the best way to free a spirit. And if it's revenge the bull is killing for, that's pretty much hopeless because we can't just kill a man because he killed an animal, as much as I'd love to." Sam shrugged, stumped for thought.

"What if it's not revenge?" you questioned. "These animals, sometimes they go through horrendous treatment. I mean, we ride them for all of eight seconds, right, just letting them go feral trying to buck us off because clearly they hate it. So, what if it's not revenge he wants. What if he just wants out?"

Dean nodded, glancing back and forth between the two of you. "The guy that killed him. He was never punished, right?"

Sam shook his head. "No, the guy ran off and they never heard from him again. No one went after him."

Dean turned to look at you, staring you straight in the eye. "You're right. He's trapped here. He's got no closure, and he can't leave this place. He's only killing people out of fear, not revenge. We have to free him."

At that very moment, there was an almighty crash as a stall to your left shattered into pieces. Hooves thudded on the grass, growing louder by the second.

"So how the hell do we do that?!" You shouted, gripping Dean's arms tight.

"We get him over the threshold, that's what we do."

In a split second, he wrapped his arm round your back, propelling you forward towards the fair exit. The three of you ran like hell, the bull close on their heels. You could feel his horns brush your back as you stumbled over the threshold, falling to your knees with a yelp. You braced yourself for impact, squeezing your eyes tight. But there was nothing. Nothing but the slight 'poof' behind you. You spun around just in time to see smoke drift up and away, threading itself around the entrance sign and floating off into the night sky.

Sam looked round to see you being embraced tightly by his brother. "How - how did you know that would work?" You stammered. "I wasn't sure it would," Dean chuckled. "But I figured every death happened in the ring. He never had a reason to leave it. But if he needed to chase you outside, if he needed to follow you away from the scene of the crime, outside the boundary even, it might give his spirit just enough of a push to let go and be set free."

Sam shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He knew what was going to come next. "Maybe?! Christ sake, maybe?!" You shoved Dean with disbelief and Sam chuckled. "Good luck getting yourself out of this one, big brother." He slapped Dean's shoulder as he headed back towards the car, still chuckling at himself. Something told him Dean wouldn't be coming back to the motel just yet.

Naturally, Sam was right. Dean had figured the only way to stop you from going on a rant about how much of an idiot he had been for almost getting you killed was to seize you by the face and kiss you. It worked, of course. You couldn't deny that you’d wanted to do the same thing since he'd grabbed you from behind the candyfloss stand.

By the time you’d made it back to your car, all you were wearing was that sexy stetson and your Ariat boots. That was more than he had on, to be fair. Dean pushed you against the hood and you wrapped your legs around his waist eagerly, squeezing them tight. He kissed you all over and your hands wandered, first giving his peachy butt a good slap before reaching round between both your legs. By this point, his mouth was around your left nipple, sucking gently while his right hand caressed the other.

"Fuck, I've always wanted to do it with a cowgirl," he giggled as he took a breath. "Well, today's your lucky day, cowboy." You looked down at him and bit your lip as you grasped tightly onto his rock hard penis. Dean's head thrust up and he growled before softening into your grasp. Your hand moved methodically up and down, hitting all the right places at just the right speed. He couldn’t help but think if this was how she rode the bulls, they were damn lucky bulls.

Before long, Dean started to feel himself brewing. Quickly, he pulled you up further so that his face could burry itself in your dripping wet pussy. His tongue caressed you, taking it all in as your hand gripped his hair tight and moaned. Mosquitos buzzed around you, but neither took any notice. You were far too busy enjoying yourselves.

"Dean," you moaned, reaching down to tilt his head up. "Dean, come up here. Let's make it a tie." He did as he was told, moving up to lie next to you, replacing his mouth with his hand. Once again, you took hold of his penis, rubbing even harder this time. Quickly, you fell into a rhythm, your hands working their magic on each other while your lips intertwined, only parting to take a brief breath.

Neither had any idea how much time had passed, but the night was still as you locked eyes, feeling the energy catch its spark. You both exploded, coming into each other's hands at the exact same moment. It took a while for you to recover, both panting while laughing as you gazed into each other's eyes.

You sat like that, wrapped in each other's arms, for a few more hours as you watched the sun rise. At some point, you’d both gotten dressed, but Dean had made a point to steal your stetson and refused to take it off. As the first stallholders started to arrive, you stayed where you were, giggling like children at the funny looks shot at you. After a while, Dean was alerted by the familiar honk of Baby's horn, and the pair of you turned round to see Sam pull up a few yards away.

"Hey, Sam!" You yelled, giving him a wave. "Hey, Y/N. Glad to see you still alive and kicking. Oh, and thanks for keeping my brother preoccupied. Best night sleep I've had in weeks." He winked as Dean rolled his eyes.

"Sorry, I gotta shoot." Dean stroked your hair softly. "More ghost cows calling, huh?" you giggled, planting a quick kiss on his lips. "Something like that. I'm sorry I can't stay to watch your ride."

You shook your head and crinkled your face. "Don't worry, you won't miss it. Just turn to the first page in the paper in the morning. I'll be the one who wins, if you're wondering where to look." He smiled down at you, reaching up to pass the hat back.

"Keep it. I've got plenty." You gave it a pat and adjusted the brim to fit on his head better. With one final kiss, Dean slipped off the car and headed over to his brother, who was already chuckling away.

"Keep that trap shut, boy, or you're riding shotgun for a year." Dean sauntered round to the passenger side, giving you one final nod as he climbed in. As Sam sped away, Dean flipped the hat off to run a hand through his tousled hair. He grinned when he saw the phone number scribbled on a scrap of paper tucked into the inside of the rim.

If one thing was for sure, Dean Winchester would never forget his rodeo with his cowgirl.

#dean winchester #spn x reader #supernatural #spn #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam and dean #dean winchester x y/n #spn fic #spnrequests #spn smut #dean x cowgirl!reader

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pascalpanic · 4 years ago

Note

Ok I know cigarettes are like.. BAD ok. But I keep having this thot about riding javi on his stupid ass couch as he smokes a cigarette and you just take it from his lips and smoke as you quite literally ride him into the couch. He thinks it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

Hazy Vision (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

Summary: After a long weekend together, Javier has to go back to work. You really miss him.

W/C: 3.4k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, babes), lots of dirty talk and innuendos, references to a lot of sex outside of what happens in the plot, creampie, language, mild overstimulation. LOTS of talk of cigarettes and smoking. brief mentions of food and alcohol. afab reader.

A/N: you broke my soul, anon. and for that I love you. p.s. HAPPY BIRTHDAY @theteddylupinexperience!!! hope u have an awesome day and that this is a sufficient gift lol

It’s hot as hell in Colombia, and your air conditioner broke.

Javier is gracious, of course. He’s your boyfriend. He cares for you. He’d do anything for you, even with nothing in it for him. It’s a bonus to him that you’ll get to spend the foreseeable future at his place, since every repairman in the country is working at full capacity.

Another bonus is you wearing his clothing. At first, it was funny to him. You didn’t grab any extra clothing when you first came over, so it was natural that you’d grab a shirt of his to sleep in. Then the morning came, and you wandered around his apartment in a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt. He had to admit, you looked stunning like that. So casual, carefree, painfully domestic. You’d pounced on him in bed after two coffees and insisted that you spend the weekend in bed entirely.

So you did. Saturday was spent mostly nude in his big bed, your head pressed to his chest or occasionally to his lips. When Javier asked if you wanted to run to your apartment for more clothing, you’d pouted. “But it’s hot outside. I don’t wanna go all the way over there.”

As much as you enjoyed your own clothing, there was such a charm to wearing Javi’s. His clothes were big on you, even as they pulled tight on his thick arms and broad chest. They were comfortable too, and smelled just like him. It was a perfect comfort when he was at work and you sat bored in his apartment.

Javi sighed and asked if you’d like him to go get some. You gave a wide grin, and he begrudgingly made his way to your apartment. He packed you a bag of enough clothes for a week, and promised you if the air conditioning wasn’t fixed by then, he’d do it himself. And when he got back, he’d absolutely wreck you.

When he returned, he made good on his second promise and the two of you spent the whole day in his bed. A few lazy rounds of sex, lots of little kisses, and murmured words of affection into the other’s ear.

It was so perfect that it was really no surprise that Sunday came and went the same. You’d showered in the early morning, and Javier joined you. Shower sex occurred. Then you made breakfast and ate it in bed with him. You dozed in and out of sleep together for a few hours too. When noon rolled around, Javier treated you to a wonderful hour of his face buried between your legs, eating you out and never stopping. More sleep. You watched some television, snuggled, talked about the week behind you and the week coming up.

You ordered and ate takeout for dinner, also in bed. You finally drifted off late at night and groaned as Javier’s loud alarm woke you.

“Don’t go to work, baby,” you whine, throwing your arms around him.

“I just spent two days in bed with you. What more do you want from me?” He murmurs sleepily, sitting up and running a hand through his messy hair.

“All of your love and affection,” you say cheerfully, as if it’s not hard to give. Javier has already found it isn’t difficult with you. You’d had it since the moment you met.

“Cute, very cute,” he chuckles and taps your ass as he gets out of bed.

Even with the air conditioner pumping chilled breezes through the apartment at full speed, it’s as if the heat outside has settled inside of you. Your skin isn’t sweating but you feel flushed, stifled by all the clothing you’re wearing. So you strip down a little, heading to Javier’s room for something light.

As you remove your top, you smile as you see your favorite of Javier’s shirts. It’s a bright magenta, and you slip it over your shoulders. It’s a light material, but you leave it unbuttoned, exposing your lacy white bra beneath it. You keep the white shorts you’re wearing on. Looking in the mirror, you wish there was a way to show Javier how good you look right now. Instead, you settle for the fact that it’s… fuck, it’s only 4.30?

You’re restless. You’ve done plenty today: cleaned Javi’s kitchen, watched some telenovelas, read from an interesting book you were making your way through, organized his bedroom, and it’s still only 4:30. If you’re lucky, Javier will get home around 5:15 at the earliest. You know his job is demanding; he could be there all night.

Desperate for anything to do, you turn to one of Javier’s vices. Grabbing the pack of cigarettes from the counter, you make your way to the couch and plop down, resting your feet on his coffee table. You take out a single cigarette and ignite it with the little flick lighter Javier keeps on the end table.

For the next ten minutes, you breathe slowly, inhaling and exhaling the nicotine. Your eyes slip shut as your head rests against the back of the couch. You’re tired and lazy and still so fucking warm for some reason.

The night passes painstakingly slowly. You watch the 5:00 news, then the 6:00 and the 6:30. Finally, around 6:45, the doorknob jingles and Javier enters.

You’re cooking dinner by then, the stovetop sizzling with something good. It smells wonderful, he notes as he drops his briefcase and keys by the door, but there’s something even more enticing in the kitchen.

His radio is playing loudly, and you dance around the kitchen to the music as you cook. There’s sunlight filtering in through the windows, the last rays of the summer sun starting to descend. The large shirt fans out as you twirl, revealing the soft bare skin of your lower back. You’re already driving him crazy and you don’t even know he’s home.

He walks into the kitchen, and you look up with a grin as you see him. “Hi, Javi,” you sing as you wrap your arms around him, on your tiptoes. “Missed you today.”

“Missed you too… is that my shirt?” He asks, and you laugh happily, looking down at your outfit.

Javier finally processes the rest of the look and it sends a chill down his spine. Your breasts look so perfect, as if they’re perched there just for him. They are, but he doesn’t know that yet. “Yeah. I know we have the A/C pumping in here, but it still feels so hot,” you shrug, turning back and stirring something in the pan.

Javier wraps his arms around you from behind, his chin perching on your shoulder. “You look good in my clothes,” he murmurs.

“I think it’s making me pick up some of your habits,” you giggle and nod to a glass of whiskey to the right of the stove. “I’ll pour you one. You keep stirring these,” you tell him and kiss his cheek, sliding out of his arms.

He gets changed eventually, out of his work clothes and into a t-shirt and a rare pair of shorts you never knew he owned. It must be hot at the Embassy, you consider, and even though it’s cool in here, the effects linger. He must feel the heat the same way you do.

The two of you sip your glasses of whiskey as dinner cooks, and Javier’s eyes rarely leave yours. When they do, they’re on your chest or your ass in those little white shorts.

“Go sit down,” you tell him as the food finishes. “It’s almost done, and it’ll need to cool before we can eat it.”

He nods in agreement and meanders to his couch, lying down lengthwise and sighing. You glance over at him and smirk a little. You’d planned this all day, been missing his body and his strong arms. His warmth was missing when you attempted taking a nap in his bed. He was right where you wanted him, lighting up a cigarette. The food is done, just needs to cool now.

“I was so restless today,” you smile as you wander similarly to the living room. He takes in your legs as they stand in front of him, rubbing a hand up the back of your thigh and admiring what he sees.

“And why was that?” He asks before blowing out a cloud of grey from between his lips.

You shrug. “Missed you. Had nothing to do, really, since this isn’t my house. But mainly I missed you.”

He grabs at your thigh, thick fingers pressing into the soft flesh, and you smirk down at him. You straddle him, stealing the cigarette from his lips. You let it dangle between yours and smile down at him.

He looks up at you, dazed. Between your hips hovering above his and the nicotine slowly buzzing its way into his brain, he’s beyond contentedness. “Missed you too, sweet thing,” he murmurs, splaying his fingers across your thigh. Your hands are similarly pressed to his chest, fingers spread wide against the cotton-covered skin, skin that you can tell is warm and turning pink from a rush of blood. “Got to take you whenever I wanted this weekend. Had to wait all day to get home and fuck you again.”

His words make you shiver, and you pass the cigarette back to him. When he takes a drag in, you grind your hips across his slowly. “How was work today?” You ask, though you really don’t care. You know the answer when it comes to Javi: stressful, annoying, frustrating, tiring.

He shudders too, and you can feel his cock hardening beneath you. “Shitty,” he sighs. “Fuckin’ Stechner. I swear to god, I’d let the narcos take him.”

You chuckle softly, starting to drag your hips across his aching crotch. “They wouldn’t want him. They’d want someone like you,” you mumble, leaning down over him. “That would really bring the gringos down.”

He’s in Heaven, he really must be. Your tits hang in front of his face, and you steal his cigarette and take another drag, your hips continuing to grind into his. There’s the smell of cooking from the kitchen and in all honesty, Javier is blissed out already. “No they wouldn’t.”

You giggle and kiss the side of his face, giving him the cigarette again. “Mm, maybe you’re right. Too stubborn. Or your girlfriend might go crazy and go after them from withholding her boyfriend’s dick from her.”

Javier chuckles lazily, taking one last drag before stubbing out the remains in the ashtray. “Wouldn’t make it 24 hours before you’d kill them all. You know how you get when you’re determined.”

You nod, lifting your face to kiss his lips slowly. It takes a few moments, passionate and deep and tasting of cigarettes and that whiskey. You pull away and his eyes dart between yours. “I’m going to get up, and you’re going to take off your clothes,” you mumble, your lips only millimeters from his.

He smirks up at you and steals one more kiss. “Then get up and let me undress,” he murmurs, and you stand to the side for him.

He chuckles and sits upright again, pulling down your shorts and admiring the panties beneath. He rubs his fingers across your folds through them, and he can already feel your wetness gathering. “Oh fuck me, honey.”

“You can if you get your own clothes off,” you tease and pull off his t-shirt yourself. He pushes off his shorts and boxers, kicking them aside as it reveals his rock-hard dick. You smile and lick your lips a little. “Lay back down.”

He does exactly that, smiling. You slip your panties off and straddle him again, your breasts bouncing in your bra with the movement. His pink shirt follows you along, and he can’t help but run his hands up your sides, admiring you in the hue. “Pink is your color.”

“Only when it’s yours,” you giggle, dragging your hips into Javier’s erection. He shudders and you guide yourself to rest with his dick pressed into your folds. “You ready for me?” You ask, fingers splayed on his chest again. This time, they lay on his caramel-colored abs, making you smile at the juxtaposition between now and just a few moments ago; blue fabric separated your hands touching him, now you can only feel bare skin.

“Go ahead, baby,” he assures you, his large hands grabbing your hips and lining you up.

It doesn’t take more than a second for you to sink down on him, moaning and tilting your head back at the feeling as you slowly take more and more. “Javi,” you whimper softly, toes curling at the sensation. “You’re so fucking big,” you whine, and it’s true. He is, his dick almost painfully long as it presses up and into your cervix already.

“Feels so fuckin’ good,” he grunts, his eyes closed as he takes in the sensation of you on top of him.

“Light another cigarette,” you order him, his cock fully sheathed inside of you. He nods, sitting up to reach the pack, and both of you make soft noises at the grind it gives, the base of his cock against your entrance.

He flicks the lighter and holds it to the little white stick. The end glows orange. “Good,” you nod and begin to lift yourself up and push yourself down as Javier takes a long drag from the cigarette.

You involuntarily tighten at how fucking good he looks beneath you, a light sheen of sweat starting to form on his forehead, smoke trailing from between his lips. “Javier,” you groan, your eyes slipping shut as you begin to bounce on him.

He knows exactly what you want, what you need to make this all that much better. His free hand no longer rests on your hips but circles your clit with two fingers. “There we go, baby girl,” he moans out at the way you sound from the motion. You sound wrecked, and he can’t get enough of it. “Mm, fuck, take what you need from me.”

Javier opens his eyes to look up at you. The sight is fucking magnificent: your tits bounce against that white lace, the pink fabric of his shirt draped against your sides. Just when he thinks you couldn’t look even hotter, you snatch his cigarette.

You cry out his name again and again as you slowly take a puff, the sensation too much to bear. Gripping the cigarette with your teeth, you press both hands to his chest and ride him faster, harder.

Your face is furrowed in concentration, sweat sliding down one temple. A bit of grey smoke obscures your face to him, but it’s still a fucking sight to behold. It’s everything he’s ever wanted and needed and more, a girl like you wearing his shirt and smoking his favorite cigarettes while you bounce on his dick, that sexy body moving along with his.

He can’t even thrust up into you. You’re grinding your hips down with every time you bottom out, his dick pressing right against your g-spot. He can’t even try. It’s fucking amazing. One of his hands reaches up to allow you to take a drag from it. It’s incredibly intimate, not just the way you’re obliterating him but the way he holds the cigarette to your lips. He takes it away for you to puff the smoke from your lungs then brings it back.

It doesn’t take long with the combination of everything. You shudder and pass the cigarette off to him fully, too occupied with what you’re doing. “Fuck, baby,” you whimper, his fingers pressing faster against your clit. “Really close.”

“Yeah?” He murmurs, taking his own puff from the cigarette before stubbing it out to his side on the coffee table. His long arms can easily reach. With a hand now free, he grips your waist and guides you up and down on him, just the way you like it.

His hand drifts higher, reaching your neck. He doesn’t squeeze or grab, just rests it there. Holds you in place, almost. It feels good, his hands roaming your body, and you cry out in pleasure.

“Come on, honey. Cum for me,” Javier urges.

Only a few more seconds pass before your peak washes over you, sending you into sheer bliss. Javi’s fingers don’t slow in the slightest, and he takes this opportunity to begin thrusting up into you as your bouncing involuntarily slows.

Your hand slides over where his rests on your neck, lacing your fingers through his. You cry his name and your head falls against his hand, eyes fluttering with pleasure.

Javier is now the one in control once more. He brings both hands to your hips and thrusts up into you, his movements sharp and harsh. His hips smack yours and the tip, buried deep inside of you, hits your g-spot, sending you into a pleasant state of overstimulation. “Fuck, Javi,” you whimper, tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

Everything feels so warm and tender, your walls oversensitive now. It doesn’t matter to you in the slightest; rather, you relish it. You bring one hand to your clit and rub it yourself, shuddering. “Come on, Javi,” you plead, regaining yourself and working your hips back against his.

It’s all so good and so much and overwhelming. He can barely use any of his senses other than touch, can barely hear you as his head spins with the feeling of teetering on the edge. “Gonna cum, baby girl,” he groans, and you work your hips harder into his, desperate for it.

He can tell, and it makes him lose control. He spills hot and deep inside of you, the heat rushing through his body expunging the warmth that’s built inside of him all day from the goddamn Colombian summer. “That’s it, fuck,” he cries out as the orgasm rolls through his body.

The feeling of his cum spilling inside you is just enough, in tandem with your fingers. You cum a second time, your walls squeezing him tight, milking him dry of anything he can produce. “Javi,” you whimper, and he only notices you’re cumming for the second time when a warm gush rushes across his hips.

“Fuck, good girl, baby,” he breathes out as he comes down from his high, you equally as overwhelmed on top of him. After a few moments of heavy breathing, you remove yourself from around him and lie there, pressed to his chest.

Javier’s legs are bent at the knee, surrounding you on either side of your thighs. They press into you, and you lay on top of him with your ear pressed over his heartbeat. It’s still frantic, but it’s coming down. Javier wraps his arms around you, a finger tracing slowly up and down your spine through that damned pink shirt of his.

“Why do you love this shirt so much, hm?” He asks, breaking the warm and tired silence between you.

You chuckle. It’s certainly not what you expected to be asked, but you like it. “Kind of think I look like you when I wear it. I think what you saw just then is what I see normally. You on top of me, fucking me hard, sometimes with a cigarette.”

“Oh, you looked just like me,” he laughs sarcastically, shaking his head. “And when I have I ever fucked you while smoking?”

“Just like you,” you repeat in a soft and happy murmur, a small smile gracing your face.

“Jesus, you really must have missed me today,” he chuckles softly.

“Withdrawal, I guess. You leave me, I have to pick up another vice. I sat here smoking for a while today.”

“First of all, I did not leave you,” Javi chuckles softly. “And really?”

You shrug. “It just came to me to do it. It wasn’t great or anything, but it was something to do. To pretend you were there with me.”

Javi sighs and kisses the side of your head. “Well, should we go eat before the food is fully cold?”

You laugh. “I think it’s already cold, Javi.”

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867

#javier peña fanfiction #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javi peña x reader #javi peña #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction #narcos fanfic #narcos #pascalpanic

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all-my-love-for-harry · 4 years ago

Text

Sing me my song.

summary: Harry’s feeling insecure after he sees his girlfriend interact with her ex.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: fluff with some angst, happy ending tho.

a/n: this was requested by @hazzalightsupmyworld, hope you like it! Let me know what you think :)

Find the rest of my masterlist here.

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

Relationship wise, Y/N has never been one with luck. She has never had the ability to jump from one relationship to other, it just wasn’t who she was. Instead, she spent several years being in love with the same person.

Ariana and Y/N met after they shared a studio session back in 2015. They wrote some songs together for Ariana’s upcoming album at that time. It took them two months and several cups of coffee to fall in love. Their relationship was mostly private, as neither of them wanted curious eyes all over their every move. Of course the media eventually caught up the two women weren’t just friends, but were romantically involved and after Ariana’s album dropped, it looked pretty serious.

However timing just wasn’t on their side, and for different reasons, they ended up going separate ways. Although that didn’t stop them from remaining friends, Y/N was still in love with her ex-girlfriend. She stayed there through tough times and not even once not dropped everything if Ariana called.

It was some time after their breakup when they found their way back to each other. They thought it was only fair to give it another shot, but it just didn’t work out. They both wanted different things and together came to the conclusion they were better off as friends, so Y/N and Ariana called it quits before they hurt the other bad enough they wouldn’t be able to be friends in the future.

For a lot of time, Y/N thought she wouldn’t be able to fall in love again, or at least have a somehow serious relationship with someone else. It took her time, but eventually she got there. With every day that passed, it got easier to move on.

And that’s when she met Harry.

A kind, shy man who has shown her a completely different side of the world, one that she was completely oblivious of before he came into her life. Although Harry was sure since the beginning about his feelings for her, it took Y/N a little while to open up to him and allow him to take her on a date. Sure, they hung out and stuff, but it was always with other people around in a friendly environment. Now there was nothing wrong with that, but Harry wanted more.

Almost a year after they first met, Harry and Y/N finally started dating. Things were great between the two of them. They both felt like there was something very… real in what they had. Quite frankly, they had never felt like this before. It truly felt like they were building a life together that could easily become a forever thing, and even though for some people it could be scary, for them it wasn’t. It felt good to have something stable after a long time of trying to find something that felt completely real and honest.

It wasn’t until Y/N felt like she was 100% over Ariana that they started talking again. Of course, they had missed each other but they both agreed it wouldn’t be so healthy to try to move on without putting some sort of distance between them. For them, it was so easy to become close friends again. It was like the old times, just with a few boundaries they had agreed on.

Last time Y/N saw her, was on Ariana’s first show of her tour. She had gone to support her, however she did not join her on tour like last time. And it was fine, honestly. Y/N felt like her life was complete now that she had her boyfriend and her best friend in it.

Now Y/N found herself spending more time in London with Harry than anywhere else in the world. And it was slowly starting to become her second home.

Around August, after taking a shower before getting ready to go out with Harry, Y/N received a text. It was from Ariana, she was inviting her to her next concert in London that was in a few days. Y/N bit her lip, thinking what it was best to do. Honestly? She wanted to go. It would be really nice to go see her perform after a few months of not seeing each other, and she could always bring Harry so he’d have a good time too.

“Babe, are you ready? Reservation’s at seven o’clock.” Harry came out of their walk-in closet with his clothes on his hands.

“Yeah, one second.” Y/N sent Ariana a quick text saying she’d ask Harry before looking up at him. “Hey, do you want to go to a concert this weekend?”

“Sure, who are we seeing?”

“Ariana.”

Now, Harry knew their story and how big of a roll Ariana was on his girlfriend’s life, and although it made him insecure at times (not that he’d ever say a word to her about it), he has come to accept that. Also, it wasn’t like Ariana was a stranger to him. They were also friends, just never been really close.

“I mean, I’m down. It’ll be fun if we go.” He shrugged, deciding it shouldn’t have to be a big deal.

“Awesome. I’ll tell her we’re going.” She smiled.

Inside of his head, Harry tried to convince himself they’d have a good time, and everything was going to be fine, although he wasn’t feeling so confident at the moment.

Saturday rolled in and all Y/N could talk about was the concert. She planned an outfit along with hair and makeup that with go along with her clothes. She was excited but also a little nervous. They’d most likely go backstage after the show, and it would be the first time the three of them would be together in the same room.

Harry has called a car that would drive them to the O2 Arena. Unfortunately, they ran a little late due traffic so when they arrived, they had to take her seats in the VIP box immediately because the show was about to start. Harry wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder as they stood there waiting. Now, normally he wouldn’t be anywhere touchy with her if they were in public, but he was feeling particularly clingy today so he didn’t care if tomorrow there would be a billion of pictures of the two of them all over the internet.

The lights when out and the music started, making the twenty thousand people in the arena erupt in screams.

Aside from the two of them, there were other people in the VIP box. A couple of Ariana’s friends Y/N knew and some celebrities.

So far they were having a good time. Harry let loose a little and started dancing with Y/N too. He screamed the lyrics he knew and jumped around just like everyone else. After the fourth song passed, the energy lowered a little as a slower song came into the set list.

Y/N swallowed hard when she recognized the melody. R.E.M. was a song Ariana told her a long ago was written about Y/N a little before they broke up for the second time. In complete honesty, she loved the song. She loved it when Ariana showed it to her that night they stayed up until 2am just talking, long before it was out to the world, and she loved it now that she was hearing it along with twenty thousand people.

It brought a lot of memories back and the song that followed did not help.

Harry noticed her sudden change of behavior but chose to not point it out. Instead, he gave her hand a squeeze that quickly snapped her back to reality. She looked up at him and smiled, leaning into him a little.

Songs like Moonlight, Sometimes or Thinking Bout You, Y/N knew weren’t on the original set list of the concert. They were old songs Ariana didn’t really sing anymore, mainly because they were about her, and she was singing them now.

It only made her more nervous to step into backstage after the concert. And it wasn’t about any lingering feelings, truly. It just was kind of a lot to take in. She was in love with the woman for a long time, for the love of God.

One song before the concert ended, they decided to head backstage to avoid the crowd afterwards. Someone from the security team leaded the way to them and some other people who had the same idea and they waited patiently for the show to end.

“Did you have a good time?” She asked him.

“I did, haven’t danced like that in quite some time.”

“Me too.”

The couple held hands and stayed a little behind. There were people everywhere, both from the staff and friends that were hanging around. They heard Ariana say her goodbyes to the public before she ran off the stage. People rounded her to congratulate her for the show, she went around giving hugs to everybody until her eyes landed in Y/N.

Both girls squealed and crashed into a hug. “You’re here!”

“I promised I’d come, Ari.” Y/N said sweetly.

“I’m so happy you did. I changed the set list after you texted me.” Ariana gave her a dimpled smile, looking directly at her eyes.

“So I noticed.”

Harry caught awkwardly, not really knowing what to do with himself. Ariana and Y/N broke the eye contact as the first one went and hugged Harry. “Thank you for coming, Har.”

“Thank you for the invitation. We had a great time.” He didn’t really mean to, but subconsciously he emphasized the we.

“I’m happy you did.” She said. “I was thinking we could have dinner afterwards. Courtney’s also here somewhere.”

“Absolutely.” Y/N was quick to answer.

“Great, let me take a shower and grab my shit before we go.” Ariana walked away towards her dressing room.

“Do we have to go?” Harry almost whined.

“C’mon, it would be fun. Please?” She gave him those damn puppy eyes she knew he couldn’t resist. So he sighed and nodded, making her squeal. Y/N hugged him before she gave him a quick peck on the lips. “We won’t stay so long, I promise.”

Although he agreed on going, Harry kept quiet for most part of the dinner. Ariana and Y/N sat in front of the other so they were talking the whole time, giggling about things Harry did not understand as they were inside jokes they had. He did not feel comfortable at all by the end of the night, and it didn’t help the fact that Y/N was not acknowledging him.

“You need a ride home?” Ariana asked after dinner was paid and everyone was starting to get up from their seats.

Y/N was about to speak but Harry cut her off. “I have called a car, thank you though.” He didn’t want to sound rude, but he didn’t think he could stand a whole car ride with them probably seating next to each other giggling and whispering things.

“Oh, alright.” Ariana answered slowly. “I’ll be in London until next week, maybe we can meet up?” She said to Y/N.

“Totally, I’ll text you.”

The pair hugged tightly. Ariana waved at Harry a little awkwardly as she has already sensed his jealousy building up.

“Have you really called a car?” Y/N asked when it was only the two of them.

“Are you talking to me now?” He couldn’t help but say. He has in fact called a car, he did it the second they asked for the check. Y/N sighed, not really wanting to start anything while they were still in public.

Not long after that, a black range rover pulled up and they walked towards it to get in. This time, Y/N didn’t seat in the middle to be close to Harry. Instead, each of them sat by each end of the seat. The ride back to the house was quiet, none of them had really nothing to say to the other, but they were also gathering their thoughts because they knew what was going to go down once they entered the house.

The both of them thanked the driver before getting out of the car and into the house. Y/N took off her shoes and walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water, Harry following her steps.

“Are you going to tell me what is wrong?” She asked.

“I don’t know. Is there anything wrong?”

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t be like that.” She crossed her arms. “There’s something bothering you and I want to know what it is. Did you not have a good time?”

“I was until you started flirting with your bloody ex.” He finally said.

“Flirting? Harry, I was not flirting with her.”

“Yes, you were. And she was flirting with you too!” He accused. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how she was looking at you!”

“According to you, how was she looking at me?”

“Like she was still in love with you! Didn’t you see? She basically serenaded you back in the concert and had no problem admitting it. ‘I included these songs only because you told me you were coming’” He tried to copy her voice. “For fuck’s sake.”

“Well, I can exactly control what songs she includes in her show!”

“Oh, but you clearly enjoyed it, didn’t you? Must have felt good to have all her attention.”

“Now you’re being mean.” She said.

“No, I’m being honest. And I’m sorry if it makes me mad when your ex is all over you!”

“She was-”

“And you can’t even see it. Can’t you see how fucking insecure it makes me feel whenever you talk so highly of her? How am I supposed to top what you had with her?”

Y/N swallowed hard. “It is not a competition, you know? I don’t spend all our time together comparing what we have with what I had with her.”

“For you it might not be. But I do spend a lot of time worrying about you waking up one day and deciding you don’t love me as much as you love her. After all, you have found your way back to each other once, what assures me it won’t happen again?”

“It won’t.” She stated.

“You don’t know that.” He shakes his head. “What if one day you realize you can always go back to her? You’d leave me in a heartbeat.”

“How can you have such little trust in me? I love you, Harry.” Y/N almost cried out. “When my heart was broken, you were the only one there who helped me glue it back together. You. I would have never agreed on going on a date with you if I wasn’t over her.” She paused. “After I met you, I knew I had to get my shit back together so this,” She motioned the space between them. “would work. Because I wanted it to work. You have given me so much,” Her voice broke. “I don’t think I would ever stop loving you.”

“Baby-”

“And I’m sorry if I today I made you doubt that. It wasn’t my intention at all. I was just… I was excited, you know? You have to understand that while I dated Ariana in the past, I’m not in love with her anymore. Do I love her? Yes, I do. But it isn’t the kind of love I have for you, H. What I had with her had an expiration date, and I knew it. But I also know that I want to be with you forever. You’re my forever, not her.”

Harry chocked a laugh, allowing one tear to roll down his left eye. “You’re my forever too, baby.”

“I’m sorry.” She said again before wrapping her arms around his torso. “I love you so, so much. Please believe me.”

“I believe you, I do.” He mumbled before kissing the top of her head, hugging her back. “I’m sorry for being so insecure.”

“I know it isn’t exactly normal to be close with your ex, and i’m still working on setting boundaries.”

“I appreciate that.”

They both sighed happily, enjoying being in each other’s arms. “Do you get as excited as you were today when you listen to the songs I wrote for you?” He asked quietly after a while.

“Just as excited, if not more. I love it when you sing me my song.”

“The one about us dancing in the kitchen or the one about me eating your pu-”

“Way to ruin the moment, Styles.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurbs

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pythiaswine · 2 years ago

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so this is my drawing mock-up for my halloween costume this year. i'm going to a party this weekend and wanted to impress

OKAY so the boots are heeled riding boots I dropped a pretty penny on last year for my Cruella costume. I don't remember where I bought them but the brand in the boot says "Forever" (wow how helpful). The fangs are these smaller prosthetics from Spirit. I also bought larger fangs but they looked and felt so wonky in my mouth. definitely looked less realistic and were difficult to talk with.

I didn't want to sew a corset so I bought one online that was cheap(er than others) and actually so good for how little i spent. I have a 34" bust and 30" waist, I wear women's medium (US) usually, but bought a large because I know how these corsets tend to fit and there were no reviews. Keep in mind that I didn't tighten the straps because I was excitedly throwing all the pieces on, but a large is perfect for me:

forgive my messy i-work-every-day-and-take-classes bedroom.

That above photo is a wip, I have some fishnets, spray blood, and earrings. Gonna put my hair up best I can to mimic an 18th century updo (my hair's shoulder length as you can see :/) and i'm gonna powder it. will probably touch up the color too, because my roots have grown out quite a bit. i have the choker, already had the gloves from Spirit a few years back.

the workable piece here is that short nightdress I picked up at Goodwill for $6. It's a little long (knee length) so it's pinned in the photo. i'm on the fence about using the sheet lacy stuff for sleeves, because it would look gorgeous asf. but also i like the sheer over the under skirt, also would need another layer if i DID use it for sleeves because the white is so see-through. on the fence.

here's the very first drawing i did before purchasing the corset, babydoll chemise, choker, teeth, fishnets, etc.

i decided from there i wanted a more 18th century (albeit not quite so modest) look. didn't want any of those curvy bodice corsets that are more late 19th/early 20th century. I wore one of those for the Cruella costume and it was not my cup of tea. it was a cheaper corset but i didn't like that i wore it as a corset-top without anything underneath. it also bent weirdly and i wasn't very flexible in it. here's the fit below, cropped the person beside me because i didn't want to violate their privacy

my costume this year is pretty last minute because i only decided to even go to the party a few days ago. i ordered the corset and made a couple trips to Spirit and Goodwill, and decided to recycle what i could from Cruella.

here's the second drawing where I decided i wanted puffed sleeves instead of the awkward hanging ones, and drew my hair in an updo.

and finally as i've acquired some costume pieces i morphed it into this drawing here:

it's pretty cohesive, i think, and seeing myself in it even though it's not complete is AWESOME. i can't wait to show off the final results.

#vampires #halloween costume #18th century #18th century costume #18th century vampires #vampire costume #costumer #sewing #recycling clothes #diy costume #sort of #kind of more like i'm upcycling and building my costume from stuff that exists already #either way i do sew #🪡#interview with the vampire #what we do in the shadows #dracula #true blood #first kill

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everlarkficexchange · 4 years ago

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Clubbing 101

Written by @alliswell21

Prompt 144: She has a night of fun before the start of the semester. She meets this guy, they hit it off that they sleep together. But when she shows up to her class the next day, she sees the guy again. But he’s her professor and he’s way older than she originally thought. #olderPeeta [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Rating: Explicit. NSFW.

Tags and Warnings: Canon Divergence; College!AU; Age gap, older man/younger woman; The opposite to slow burn? Smut; Unprotected sex; technically impaired consent since alcohol, but their both into each other while sober too 🤷🏻‍♀️; Ethical dilemmas; Teacher/Student relationship (sort of); One Shot, with an ambiguous open ending? Almost 10K words. Unbetaed.

Notes: Thank you to the moderators once more for putting up with us, procrastinating writers. You gals are saints! Thank you to @animekpopxx for her amazing prompts that never fail to snag my attention and give me the best ideas ever! You rock! I projected this story to be a smutty short thing, but it sprouted words and a background out of nowhere and I had to forced myself to stop adding to it, to get back to my other submissions waiting in my docs. Hopefully, it’s a good read for the ones who take the chance with it.

Thank you all!

KPKPKPKPKP

It starts with a harmless ranting.

“I’m not outgoing, or fun. I’m not even ‘cool’… hell, I don’t care what my sister says, I’m too old for this place!” I tell the handsome, bearded, guy sitting in the barstool next to me, “She’s a med student, you know, but she insists that partying is part of the college experience, especially when one’s career is so demanding… plus, is the last weekend of summer break, which apparently means you’re contractually obligated to party extra hard,” I roll my eyes, “I never saw the appeal personally, but I let her drag me out here so I can keep an eye on her. Is not like I’m gonna let her piss away her future for a night of clubbing,” I scoff, taking a long pull of my beer.

The guy chuckles, but I’m not done just yet.

I slam down my bottle and continue listing my grievances, “The thing that grinds my gears, is that she begged for a ‘girls’ night out’, and instead of drinking with me and people watch, she goes off with the first fucker that asks her to dance! I mean… did it ever occur to her, I may want to dance with her on OUR girls’ night out?!” I scowl and gulp another mouthful of beer, “then, to add insult to injury, thirty minutes later I get a text from her, saying to go on home without her ‘cause she found a ride, followed by that cursed eggplant emoji, like I needed an illustration of what kind of ride she’s getting,” I mock gag, rearranging the strap of my tiny purse across my chest.

“I guess she’s young, and beautiful, and does work very hard, but if you invite me to go clubbing with you, don’t abandon me within the first 15 minutes of arriving!”

My companion winces before sipping his drink, and smiling ruefully, “That’s harsh… sorry you’re having a shitty night,”

“Meh… little sisters, right?!” I shrug.

The guy smiles crookedly at me, and I find myself enjoying his smile, “I wouldn’t know about that. I’m the baby of three brothers, and the only thing I got away with was learning how to wrestle and spring awesome comebacks on the fly… the brutes kept me on my toes,” he chuckles.

“Three boys? Sounds chaotic. Your poor mother!”

“Yeah… life’s chaotic.” He averts his eyes for a second, his smile goes away. I’m afraid I’ve said something wrong, but he suddenly looks back at me, and confesses, “I’m not into clubbing either.” His eyes sparkle, despite the awful, dim, blue lights bathing the place.

I smile, “Look at us wallflowers, bonding over drinks and sibling shenanigans,” we clink our drinks together and sip. I’m chatty and relaxed, so unlike myself; I guess the two beers I’ve had are starting to get to me. “I’m Katniss, by the way.”

“That’s pretty,” he says, shyly; makes my chest warm up. “Nice to meet you, Katniss. I’m Peeta.”

I arch my eyebrows, “Peter?” I repeat, because I’m pretty sure I miss-heard him over the obnoxiously loud music.

The guy shakes his head, “Pee-ta… like the bread?” He chuckles. Then adds, “Family name. Everyone on my dad’s side are bakers.”

I snort-laugh, “Punny!” I say, taking another sip. Yup, beer’s getting to me, I’m not this cleverly funny. “My dad was into survivalism and botany… I’m named after a plant also known as Duck Potato, so I win the weird name competition!”

“Hey, it’s something else to bond over,”

“Cheers to that!” We clink our drinks again, and partake in our booze.

He orders another whiskey neat when he’s out… sounds both snooty and distinguished at the same time. Goes well with his put together image, though: nicely trimmed beard, nicely combed hair, nice polo shirt with what I believe is a tiny loaf of bread embroidered on the chest, and dark-wash jeans… I think. It’s hard to tell under the black lights of the club.

He offers to get me another drink, and I order an appletini.

“J.D. from Scrubs always drank one,” I explain, swirling the coctel in my hand, “I’ve always been curious to try, but didn’t wanna spend my own money experimenting on a drink I could potentially hate.”

“Makes sense,” Peeta says, “So… what’s the verdict?”

“Is pretty good, actually. But I think I’ll stick with my Miller Light,”

Peeta nods, “I honestly don’t enjoy alcohol that much.”

I giggle. “Then, what brings you to this fine establishment tonight, sir, if you’re not much for clubbing, or drinking?” I watch him out of the corner of my eye.

I like that when he smiles, his eyes crinkle in the corners.

“I lost a bet against a colleague.”

“Oh,” I’m suddenly self conscious and a little uncomfortable. I give the guy a scrutinizing look, and ask suspiciously, “what was the punishment exactly?”

The man rolls his eyes. “I have to spend one whole hour in the club, without criticizing anything, like the bitter old man I am,” he grins, “My friend’s words. Not mine!” He raises both hands, claiming innocence.

I laugh at the face he pulls, “Well, you’ve just defaulted on that punishment,”

“How so?” He beams.

“With the look in your face! It spoke volumes!”

“Am I that transparent?”

“You read like a preschooler’s board book, pal!”

We both laugh, I drink my beer, and he throws back his whiskey neat.

“So…” he makes a show of looking at his watch, “I still have 33 minutes to kill before I’m allowed to run out of this place… I know I’m not a Med student, co-Ed, sister of yours, but… would you, um, like to dance with me?” He sounds adorably hopeful.

I glance at the man sideways, toying with my bottle.

He smirks, mischievously, “I promise, spirits make me more coordinated on the dance floor. I become this amazing dancer when I have a couple of drinks on… or so my brain believes. I probably look like an idiot, but I’m too goofy to know the difference. You’re welcome to be the judge it for yourself,”

I take my sweet time finishing the last dregs of my beer, and wrinkle my nose, “You sure you wanna dance to this shit, kids call music nowadays?” I smirk, pointing a finger up, motioning wide circles into the ether.

Peeta gives a full belly laugh.

I really do like his laugh!

“Isn’t it our only choice?” He ventures.

Not if you follow me home, my thirsty brain supplies; my lips on the other hand, just let through a hint of a smile, because I’m buzzed, but not drunk enough to proposition a total stranger. I’ve never been one to sleep around anyway.

“Okay,” I say, too enthused. “As long as we both agree that this isn’t music,”

“Oh no, this just barely passes as noise!” Peeta agrees readily.

He guides me to the packed dance floor, and we start moving to the booming, deafening tunes playing overhead.

I’m not sure if one could call this dancing. Everywhere I look people are writhing against each other, like a pack of zombies without grace or rhyme.

I’m not sure Peeta will get an accurate assessment of his dancing skills, compared to what I’m seeing, he’ll probably look like a professional; plus, it’s too dark and busy in here to really appreciate anything, really, but after a few minutes of just shifting in place, robotically, I snatch two bottle beers from a waitress walking by, offering one to my partner, hoping that’s enough to get us loosen up. The waitress stares at me until I rummage on my crossbody mini purse and toss a crumple ten on her tray.

The liquid boost works. Before I know it, I’m grinding my hips against his. Peeta’s just the right height for his thigh to fit between my legs and brush against my front. I get tired of undulating my arms in the air, so I drop them around his shoulders, and feel just how firm and broad he is under my touch.

Our chests are tightly pressed together, and I’m at the right angle to just stare at his plush-looking lips. I turn around before I do something brash, like kiss him in the mouth. Peeta doesn’t question it, he just places his hands on my hips, and starts moving to the music’s beat.

I bring the beer to my lips, but the bottle’s empty… oops! It doesn’t matter, I’m having the time of my life!

Peeta’s swaying guides me. I basically drape my back over his front, and bump my ass into his groin. I feel the hint of a bulge there, and press my rear into it again, just to confirm if I felt what I hope I felt.

Peeta’s fingers tighten on my hip, emboldening me to keep going until I’m practically twerking into him, and his slight bulge morphs into a full blown hard-on.

I twist in his arms to face him, my lust idled brain barely thinking rationally, “Are your 33 minutes done yet?” I yell into his ear, so he can hear me over the noise.

He doesn’t even look at his watch, “To hell with time! I‘ll stay here all night, if you want me to,” He answers loudly.

“Come on, then!” I push off his chest, and snatch up his hand before he can reply.

Leaving the dance floor is surprisingly easily, considering the crowd bouncing in place together.

I make no conscious plan on where we’re going; I’m arguably familiar with the layout of this place from my many visits since Prim turned 21; I’m only mildly surprised when we navigate across the club, all the way to the restrooms. It’s like my clit is making all the decisions tonight… good for it!

There’s a line of disgruntled women waiting to get inside the Ladies Room, but the Men’s Room is available, and Peeta lets me guide him into it, like one of those pull toys children have.

“It stinks in here,” I comment blandly, but make a beeline for the last stall with a door.

There’s one guy at the urinal, but he doesn’t even look up from his pants, so I just shrug it off and yank Peeta into the stall with me.

The space is tight, but once inside the stall, I push Peeta into the door, and attack his mouth.

He makes a startled noise at the back of his throat, but his hands and arms immediately press me into his body more fully. My own hands trek down to his belt, where I fiddle with the buckle until it’s undone, and I can access his pants’ button and fly.

He hisses when my fingers graze his warm erection, and bucks into my knuckles. I’m in the process of sticking my hand inside his boxers, when Peeta growls, sucking my lower lip into his mouth, and letting it go with a wet pop.

“Switch places,” he pants against my mouth, and hoists me up, until my back hits the door and his hands grab my hips possessively, jutting my pelvis forward, “I’m hungry, would you mind if I eat you out?”

“Okay,” I gasp.

Thank you for forcing me to wear your tiny, clubbing dress, Prim!

“You’ll allow it?” He asks, incredulous, rubbing circles on my hips with his thumbs.

“Yes… I’ll allow it!”

His smile is sexy, his stare is hypnotic. Damned my drunken ass! I can’t believe I’m willing to do this in a smelly bathroom stall!

Peeta sits on the toilet and licks his lips while staring up at me. His hands disappear under the stretchy material of my skirt, bumping my purse out of his way. He skims his fingers under the elastic of my panties, and I bite my lip, nodding eagerly.

Slowly, Peeta slides my underwear down my legs, the tips of his fingers follow, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced!

Once he brings my panties to my knees, his hands rush back up my thighs, pushing the flimsy skirt around my waist. My underwear drops to my ankles on their own.

Peeta’s level eye with my crotch, and I squirm restlessly. “Beautiful… absolutely soaked,” he whispers in a daze, he inhales pulling me closer, “You smell divine!” He descends, nose first, into the thatch of dark curls between my thighs, making me moan. He ruts his face against me, and suddenly drops to his knees, grabbing my calf to pull my leg up.

But the movement gets prevented by my stupid underwear, tangled in my ankles. Without missing a beat, I toe my panties off, so Peeta can maneuver my body however he wants.

He drapes my leg over his shoulder, opening me up to his ravenous mouth. He grunts, burying his face into my core, and finally, FINALLY, his tongue swipes between my folds.

“Fuck!” I squeak.

My hands fly to tangle into his soft, perfectly coiffed hair. I nearly smother him, holding his face to my pussy, but he’s doing wicked things to me with his tongue: lapping, sucking, and nipping at my labia; drawing number eight figures around my clit with the tip of his tongue, to then sinking it deep inside my core. I can’t stop bucking into his mouth over and over.

When was the last time I was given head? Fuck if I know! Darius probably, he was decent, but didn’t do it often. And Thom was so boring at it, I actually preferred he didn’t do it. But this guy is amazing! A real expert in the matter!

“I’m so close! Please… I’m so close,” I wail like a cat in heat, writhing against the door.

Peeta looks up, and despite the horrendous lighting in the room, I realize he’s got the deepest blue eyes I’ve ever seen… too bad I can’t hold his gaze too long, because he starts rubbing my clit with his thumb, while fucking my hole with his tongue, and is all I can do not shout and scalp him in my delirium.

He doesn’t stop drinking my juices while I convulse above him. On the contrary, he retrieves his thumb, but keeps his mouth busy, lapping away all the slick I give him.

It’s too much.

I tug on his hair to pull him off of my sensitive privates.

Peeta takes one last lick with the flat of his tongue and looks up at me, smiling wolfishly, “Was that good?” His beard’s dripping with me, he wipes some of it off on his sleeve.

I snort, unsexy and definitely rude. “You made me cum so hard I saw stars… yeah, it was good. Better than good, really!” I smile down at him, and try to pull him off from the floor.

All the gel holding his curls in place is gone now, rubbed off on my palms. His hair is sticking up on the top and towards the back of his head. I reach up to try and smooth it back, “I’m sorry, I seem to have made a mess of your hair,” I giggle. It’s adorable, but I feel bad that I ruined it.

“You can mess my hair any time you want, Katniss.” He says, almost shyly, he places his hands on my waist, over the bunched up dress.

It’s a big turn on to me, how his words are so flirty, but he delivers them so sweetly and awed. Is unexpected and endearing… which is odd, because I don’t usually find people endearing at all!

We both chuckle.

He licks his lips, and I feel heat pool in my lower belly again.

“Come’ere!” I wrap my hand around his nape, and pull his lips to mine.

He responds immediately, licking the seam of my mouth. I suck on his tongue when he slides it against mine.

He moans.

“Fuck me, Peeta,” I rasp into the kiss, palming his dick through his jeans.

He groans, “Are you sure?” He barely holds back another groan when I squeeze his clothed erection.

“Cock. In me. Now!” I command through gritted teeth, trying to pull his cock out of his pants with one hand, while taking his hand, and splaying it on my boob.

“Okay… shit… this is… surreal! This has never happened to me before!” He kneads my tit, gently.

I’m not sure I was supposed to hear that, so I pretend I didn’t and turn, facing the door to wiggle my ass, in an attempt to convince him.

Peeta makes a noise in his throat, quickly followed by the sound of shifting clothes, and a metallic thump from his belt buckle hitting the toilet.

I whine when Peeta’s warm, heavy cock caressed my bare ass cheek. “Please don’t tease me,” I beg.

“Fuck, Katniss… do you really want this?”

“Yes, Peeta… put your cock inside my cunt, and fuck me all the way to next week! Now!”

His warm body cocoons mine, “Anything you want, sweetheart,” he whispers into my ear, and I feel the blunt head of his cock parting my folds, coating himself with my natural lubricants.

He finds my entrance, pushing inside just the tip. He gasps, “Fuck!” One big hand wraps around my hip to keep me steady, bracing his other arm on the door, above my head.

“Peeta… Please!” I wiggle my ass, making him sink another inch deep.

“Hold still,” He hisses, “I’m trying to hold back… not ramming in too roughly… embarrassing myself, cumming too fast,” His hot breath warms my nape. “You feel like heaven!” He growls, tightening his hold on me.

I’m torn, wishing he’d drill into me without mercy already, while another part of me is grateful he’s trying to stay under control… I don’t know which I want more…

When was the last time I had sex?

As if reading my thoughts, Peeta shares haltingly, “It’s been such a long time for me. I want it to last, but I’m

Not sure if I can,”

I don’t have time to second guess myself, because Peeta’s moving, and he’s massive!

“Don’t hold back!” I bleat, “I want it rough… I want it fast!” I gasp, clenching down on him. I paw at the door for purchase, trying not to face-plant on the cold, hard surface, while Peeta’s fat prick stretches me to the brink of pain! I can’t stay put for him any longer; I buck into him.

“I said to hold still!” He slaps my ass, hard. It stings, but it’s a welcomed feeling.

I moan and melt, finally relaxing enough for him to penetrate me all the way to the hilt. He stays there a moment, breathing harshly into my neck, squeezing my hip on and off.

“You’re so tight. So warm. So wet, Katniss.” He nuzzles my ear, “I’m gonna move now, I apologize beforehand in case this ends too soon for you…” He drags himself slowly out of me, just to plunge right back in with a swift, hard thrust.

I squeak; he grunts..

Peeta holds me by the waist, “You’re so pretty and sexy, Katniss. I can’t decide if you’re real, or the most vivid wet dream I’ve ever had…” he’s fucking me like a jackrabbit in rut.

I’m speechless, vaguely wondering if I didn’t dream him instead?

His cock head hits a spot deep inside me I’ve never reached before. I start babbling nonsense— mostly praising his cock and his strength— I don’t really know what I’m saying, but he seems to be enjoying it thoroughly by the increase in his speed and the volume of his grunts.

I’m joisted up and down his shaft like a rag doll; I wish I’d thought of hanging my stupid little purse somewhere before we started, because now it’s bumping on my thighs, distracting me from the great ducking I’m getting; it’s no matter… I can feel my orgasm building in my belly.

“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart… I want you to cum too,” He nibbles on my earlobe.

“Yes, Peeta! Please make me cum, I’m so close!”

One of his hands slides around my waist to play with my clit, while his other tweaks my nipples over my dress and bra. That, added to the sensation of my g-spot being prodded repeatedly, sends me spinning over the edge.

I must’ve screamed or something, because he clamps his hand over my mouth, and then he’s grunting, digging his forehead between my shoulder blades, and pulling me back against his unyielding body.

“Fuck…” he gasps and shivers behind me. I feel his dick pulsing, his rhythm faltering, and then he goes still.

Peeta sags a little, wedging his shoulder into the door to keep from falling. I’m surprised he still has the strength to hold me up too; I have to be dead weight at this point, since my legs feel like overcooked noodles and my arms gave out a minute ago.

We both try to catch our breaths, too spent and weak for much more, at least for a few minutes.

Peeta stirs. “Are you okay?” He breathes out, ruffling the loose wisps of my hair with his breath.

I chuckle, leaning my sweaty temple on the cool door. “I can’t feel my toes… which is excellent!”

“Good,” he sighs.

Three heart beats later, he straightens up and pulls out of me. An indecent amount of spend flows down my legs as soon as his cock dislodges from my pussy, but Peeta shoves something soft between my thighs quickly, before I have time to freak out about the mess.

I look down mildly curious, staring at an embroidery of a tiny loaf of bread. Vaguely, I wonder if that’s his uniform? He said he was a baker, right? At least he’s named after bread or something. I giggle. “Is this your shirt?” I ask, widening my stance to gracelessly wipe myself clean.

“Yeah,”

“Thank you,” I say, dazedly, turning sideways to smile at him gratefully.

He’s wearing a simple, white, cotton t-shirt when I return the polo to him, now spoiled with cum and slick. I’m caught off guard by how broad shoulder he is, and by how nice he smells… cinnamon and sweat. Weird combination, but pleasant. I wonder if he baked any bread today?

“Um… would you… would you like to put these back on?” He asks awkwardly, leaning down to pick up my discarded panties from besides the foot of the toilet bowl.

I wrinkle my nose, “Not really,” I mumble. “Who knows when was the last time that floor got cleaned. Gross.”

Peeta smiles and shakes his head, “Here,” he grabs his polo, covered in our juices, and wraps my underwear in it. “Now it’s hidden.”

My body is finally catching up with the advanced hour, the beers and the two amazing orgasms. I’m starting to feel sore everywhere, and my eyelids are getting heavy. “Wow… think I’m officially all partied out,” I chuckle weakly.

“Ditto,” Peeta agrees, his smile is shy. “So… there’s this little dinner about two blocks from here,” he starts, eyes downcast; the space seems to shrink around us, now that the frenzy of our physical activities is done with. “Would you like to grab a pancake or som—“

My phone rings, startling us both into silence. I frown, but scramble to find it in my purse, to check who could be calling me… apparently at 2 a.m.!

My frown deepens. Prim’s smiling face flashes on the screen. She was supposed to be getting some herself! “It’s my sister,” I whisper, tamping down my rising panic. I don’t ask if it’s okay to answer, I just do it. “Prim?”

“Where the hell are you?!” I have to pull the phone off, or risk eardrum rupture by my sister’s screeching. “I’ve been texting and calling you! I’ve been worried sick!”

I scowl at the wall, confused and little annoyed, “Prim… Prim, are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need me to come get you somewhere?” I try to ask.

“What?! No. I’m home! But you aren’t, and I’ve been scared shitless trying to find you!”

I give Peeta an apologetic grimace, and blindly feel around for the lock to get out of the stall. “Um… why are you home so early? Last time I heard from you, you were getting a ride,” I’m trying to sound unaffected; It’s all I can think to say in my mortification.

“Never mind that! Why aren’t you home already? I thought you had to work in the morning and then go to sch—”

While Prim rages at me, I place a hand on the phone and turn to Peeta, still in the stall, awkwardly facing the wall, I assume to grant me some privacy. I’m sure he can hear my sister’s frantic chastisement from where he’s standing. “I’m sorry… you’d think I was a teenager instead of a grown ass adult,” I roll my eyes.

Peeta waves me off good naturedly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for keeping you so late,”

I’m about to say something else, but Prim yells loudly, something about calling the police and checking the hospitals for me, which truly prompts a reaction from me, “Calm down! I’m still at the club, exactly where you left me!” I cover the phone with my palm again, and turn to him. “I’m… I’m gonna go? Before she threatens to send the marines in,” I try to joke, but our situation takes all the levity out of it, and my attempt dies off, lamely.

Peeta nods, smiling softly; somehow I can tell it’s not genuine.

“Little sisters, right?” I offer halfheartedly, twisting my lips.

“Can I… walk you out at least?” He asks quietly; Prim hasn’t stopped nagging this whole time.

“I… it’s not necessary, but thank you…”

Peeta nods again, looking disappointed.

I don’t get to tell him a proper goodbye, because two dude-bros come in the bathroom, letting the noise from the club filter in; one of the idiots elbows the other, and both start making some lewd comments about me, but Peeta steps in, eyes wild with anger, and tells the guys to knock it off. Prim hears the whole thing of course, and goes nuts herself asking what’s going on?

Peeta looks at me, and motions his head towards the door.

Message received, I step outside the bathroom and book it out of the club, “I’ll be home in a bit. I’m gonna call and Uber,”

“Call me as soon as you’re in it!” Prim demands.

“Fine! Now stop nagging me, will you?!”

I don’t realize I never looked back at Peeta to wave my goodbyes until I’m in the car, heading home. Regret truly is a bitch. I can’t help feeling like I just lost something important, but I have no idea what it is.

>>—————> * <————<<

It’s been a very long Monday. I’m mainly running on caffeine at the moment, and can’t wait to get home and pass out in my fluffy bed, to see if I can catch up on last nights lost hours of sleep.

I enter my last class of the day and find a seat in the middle of the third row. I pull my laptop, a writing pad and my mechanical pencil out of my bag, and watch as my classmates start filtering in one by one, greeting each other and finding their places, lazily.

I’m the oldest student in this class, which is not surprising. I’ve only just come back from my extended— 5 year— sabbatical; and did it only after I was completely sure I could handle my workload and the financial strain of both me and Prim going to college at the same time, without giving myself an early grave.

It’s been hard, but I’m glad I came back to finish my schooling, I only need a handful of credits to graduate, which is great!

I check my watch. We still have a few minutes to kill before class starts. The professor— Dr. Mellark, according to the copy of my schedule— is not here yet, so I pull up the banking app on my phone to give it another glance. The balance is still the same as the last two times I’ve seen it, but it doesn’t hurt to be extra careful when one is on a tight budget. I scheduled payments for the power, gas and rent to go out in the next few days, and I want to make sure there’s enough money in the bank to cover them. We’re looking fine for the month, financially speaking.

The door to the classroom swishes open, and I start signing off my app.

“Good afternoon ladies and germs; I’m doctor Mellark, and provided you’re in this room for an English class, I’ll like to welcome you to the amazing world of Classic Literature!” Says a deep, male voice I find oddly familiar. “By the way, don’t any of you dare to disagree with me on the awesomeness of classic lit… I’m a doctor, I know what I’m talking about… unless you ask me about medicine, then please be free to disregard everything I say, because I’m not ‘that’ kind of doctor!”

A murmure of little chuckles fills the room; even I smile, silencing my phone and putting it away, before looking up at the professor.

I choke on a strangled gasp when I finally set eyes on the man I assume is the teacher, dumping a worn, leather, messenger bag on the desk near the podium. He’s the last person I would’ve expected to have as a professor.

Oblivious to my predicament, Doctor Mellark— or as I know him: Peeta!— keeps introducing himself.

“I’ve been teaching this course for 14th years, but I’m always pleasantly surprised to hear the different points of views my students bring to our discussions on the classics we study, which in a nutshell, is the beauty of this class.” He pulls a ream of paper out of his bag, and gives it to a student in the front, “Please take a syllabus, and pass the rest to the next person, and so on… thank you!”

My face is burning. I think I’m gonna faint.

“But enough about me,” his voice booms, making my whole body shiver. “I don’t normally do roll calls or care about attendance, as long as you’re not missing assignments, and are here during discussions, so this is the first and last time I’ll be reading this list,” he rises a piece of paper above his head, I surmise has the students names on it, and he instructs, before reading, “I’ll call your names, and you’ll introduce yourself, briefly, that way we can all get acquainted with each other, yes?”

Ugh!

He can scratch my name off that list right now! We’re more than acquainted with each other.

Bile rises to my throat. An intrusive, bitter thought pesters me: how many of his students has he gotten ‘that’ familiar with?

But the thought dies off quickly. An even worse, more worrisome thought springs front and center in my mind: Did we use protection?!

Panic rises in my chest, a nervous queasiness settles in my belly; a distant memory of warm goo sliding down my legs comes to mind… Oh shit!

Oh shit, oh shit! We didn’t use a freaking condom? Who does that?!

Oh shit!

Would a Plan B still be effective right now? It’s been less than 24 hours…

Peeta’s reading names. People stand from their seats and talk about themselves. I haven’t heard one word they’ve said, but I’ve been watching how some of the female students bat their eyelashes and speak all breathily, smiling coyly at him… Peeta seems oblivious to the flirting, but I still feel a cocktail of unpleasant feelings in the pit of my stomach.

I realize, I’m jealous!

My ass is frozen in my sit, I’m not even breathing. I don’t think Peeta’s seen me yet, but… what will he do or say once my name comes up? I send a quick prayer to heaven, he won’t recognize me since I look nothing like I did last night at the club, with my hair down and my face all made-up. Right now and plain ol’ me… the rub is gonna be my name. Darn my dad and his awful naming whims!

Soon enough, he reads a name that makes him stutter, “Kat…Katniss? Everdeen?” He does a double take, “Katniss Everdeen…” his eyes are the size of saucers when he scans the lecture hall, swiftly. When he finds me, he looks back down at his paper, and says the name out loud again, unsure, “Katniss Everdeen?” Like he doesn’t believe what he’s reading.

I stand up woodenly, my voice cracks a little, “I’m—I’m Katniss Everdeen… hi!”

I’m about to drop back into my chair, but Peeta kinda mumbles, “You know, Arrowhead, or Katniss is a water plant? The root is edible… like a swamp potato?”

There are quiet little giggles all over the place.

Peeta clears his throat, his eyes flit away; his face’s blank of emotion, but his cheeks seem pinker than a second earlier, “I just read that online, believe it or not. Interesting facts about local flora, people. Reading is knowledge, but so is learning from one another… what can you tell us about yourself, Miss Everdeen, besides that you have a very unique first name?”

“I…” I harrumph, avoiding eye contact with Peeta at all costs, “I’m a part time student. Majoring in Botany. I took this class to fulfill my last English credits requirement for graduation. I do love books and classic literature, in particular.”

“Thank you… Miss Everdeen,” he rasps.

I sit down, clumsily, hoping this horrible, horrible moment is just a nightmare and that I’ll wake up any second now, drooling on my desk, with indentations of my notepad on my cheek, because anything would be less embarrassing than what I’m going through at this point.

Mercifully, Peeta calls a different name, and then another, and then another. I don’t look up from my notepad once.

Peeta for his part, sounds stiff and monotonous— or so I’d like to think— no more jokes or clever sayings. Maybe he’s not as affected as I am about this ordeal, and I’m just making it a bigger deal than it really is? Maybe he does have experience sleeping with students— I mean, it’s not unheard off, right?— Not that either of us had any idea we were engaging in a teacher-student affair last night…

Although, calling it an affair is generous; it was a measly one night stand. A chance encounter. Two people letting off steam before a busy week ahead.

I’m getting increasingly angry with all this thinking… and the class seems to drag on. It feels like an eternity, and my mind keeps churning up all kinds of questions: Why would he not say he was a teacher at this particular college? Did he lie about being a baker? Is his name even Peeta?

I scoffed at the thought.

To my horror, I hear him ask, “Anything to say, Miss Everdeen?”

Looking up at him requires a great deal of bravery and self admonishment, but I do my best and face him— he’s wearing glasses now, which makes my belly tightened for inexplicable reasons— “No, Doctor Mellark, nothing of consequence anyway,” I retort as venemosly as possible, without alerting anyone else there’s something weird going on between me and the professor.

Peeta grimaces slightly. Then looks away, “Very well, as I was saying, we will start with the basics: The Iliad and Moby Dick, since those are High school level works, I expect your reports to be sufficiently well researched, and your personal ideas on the text somewhat fleshed out. It doesn’t have to be in-depth. I’m just looking to determine everyone’s style and needs for the semester ahead…” he continues his spiel, and I feel free to go back to my stewing and my musings.

Before I know it, Peeta’s dismissing the class, wishing everyone a good rest of their evening.

I jump into action, packing my stuff with my head bowed, but then I hear him again.

“Miss Everdeen, a private word, please?” It’s much too quiet to have been said from his podium. I still startled when I look up and find him standing right against the first row of desks, directly in front of me.

His face is not quite stern, but he’s definitely less smiley than when we met.

I force down a gasp, because under the better lighting of the lecture hall, and close up, I can see a plethora of details I missed at the club; like the arresting blue of his eyes, the slight reddish of his neatly trimmed beard, peppered with silver whiskers all over, while his perfectly combed hair is almost all silver on the temples, and ashy blonde on the top. His shoulders are even broader than I remember.

He’s overall stockier than I originally thought, and just a smidge shorter, which is fine, he’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever met, and I wouldn’t mind climbing him like a tree—

I shake my head off the intrusive, lecheros thoughts. I’m literally lusting after my teacher, for goodness sakes! This is beyond a silly schoolgirl crush!

Peeta arches one dark blonde eyebrow at me, expectantly.

I nod curtly, because my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, and gesture for him to lead the way.

I shove my laptop into my bag, and hastily shoulder the straps, hugging my writing pad to my chest, following my professor like a chastened little girl.

My stupid eyes find his ass, and I blink twice, at the exquisite sight in front of me. I groan internally.

He grabs his own bag, takes off his spectacles and slides them into his shirt pocket.

How old is this man?! He said he’s been teaching this class for 14 years, when do professors start their teaching careers? How did I never see him before now roaming campus? Is his age the reason he ate pussy like a master?

I shake my head, cursing my horny brain.

Peeta opens a door I have no idea how we came across, and then stands aside, gesturing for me to go in first.

I duck my head and step into a warmly decorated office, with a small desk and two chairs in the middle of the room. Bookshelves full of tomes line the office. A handful of pictures and framed diplomas hang from the only available wall space in the room, but I don’t get to study them before he catches my undivided attention.

“Let me start by apologizing,” Peeta stars, closing the door behind himself, “I assure you, it wasn’t my intention to cause you any stress, or embarrassment out there.” He pauses, “Would you like to sit?” He offers, wincing. He doesn’t wait and steps around me, to pace on the other side of his desk, “I… um, never been in this position before,” he scowls, “I’m not sure what assurances I can offer at the moment, except, that I will start the process to recuse myself from this class immediately, to not interfere with your academic—“

“Recuse yourself?” I cut him off, “what do you mean?”

Peeta squirms a little, and sits down heavily on his chair. My bag slides off my shoulder, and I just dump it in the empty chair I was offered a moment ago.

“Well, Miss Everdeen, it’s the right thing to do, given our circumstances. We’ve breached the appropriate boundaries of our pupil and teacher positions, and staying in the same class together will put you at a disadvantage… is a power imbalance situation, that calls for action.”

“Can you stop calling me ‘Miss Everdeen’? It’s weird…”

“I’m just trying to maintain an acceptable level of decorum between us,” he says sheepishly.

“That ship has already sailed,” I say tiredly.

“Perhaps, but it’s my responsibility to still try,” he rubs his forehead. “Anyway, I’ll call my department and see what is next. Stepping down myself is the only fair solution I see so far… it would be terribly unfair to ask you to switch classes. Simply disrespectful, but we both can agree this uncomfortable situation needs to be nipped in the bud, for both our sakes, Miss Everdeen.”

“This is bullshit!” I snap, “What happened in that club, isn’t that terrible of a problem! What we really need to do is stop acting so stiffly and guilty. By the way, you sound like a walking thesaurus!” I accuse, looking him in the eyes for the first time since he called my name at the lecture hall. “Stop it!”

Peeta inhales deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Miss Everdeen, our actions last night may have been honest, and even innocent in nature, but they still carry consequences… unexpected ones, especially in light of the facts. And the facts are, that it would be unethical for me to remain in a position of authority over you. In any case… if you feel the need to report me to the school administration, for… harassment or inappropriate behavior or anything else, I won’t dispute any claims. I promise to distance myself from you and give you space so you can continue with your education without interference, in a safe environment.”

I grunt, “I’m not going to report you, because you didn’t do anything wrong. Sure, I thought you were a baker… I mean your story about your name, and that little loaf of bread embroidered into your shirt, I thought it was your uniform,” I shrug one shoulder.

“Sorry about that… I never meant to mislead you,” he says bashful.

I ignore him, “Either way, I was the one pulling you into that bathroom. I threw myself at you. I begged you to do things to me, and you just granted me my wishes…” like a sexy gentleman, “The sex is on me. I’m 26 years old, I’m not some bumbling teenager who hasn’t learned to take responsibility for her actions, so, please… stop trying to shield me, or protect me, or whatever it is you’re doing,” my arms flap around in frustration. I finally push my bag off the chair, and sink into it. “Look, Peeta—“

“Professor…” he corrects, frowning a little.

I roll my eyes, if he knew he’s just making it sound kinkier than it already is, he wouldn’t be so adamant about the freaking titles.

“Fine… Doctor Mellark,” I enunciate, pettily. ��I specifically chose your class as my last English elective for two reasons. One: it’s exactly the amount of credits I need to graduate at the end of the semester. And two: it fits my schedule to a T, which is important, since I do have a full time job when I’m not a college student. So, I’m sure we can both be adults about this unfortunate situation, and simply forge on. There’s no need for you to recuse from teaching this class, and I have absolutely no intention of switching. We both can wear our big people britches, and pretend last night was a… what did you call it?” I wave my hands, as if the answer will materialize from thin air, “A vivid wet dream? And leave it at that!”

Peeta glares at me, looking aggravated for the first time since I met him. “It’ll be unethical to continue like everything is normal, Miss Everdeen.” Peeta argues, stubbornly.

“Nobody has to know about last night,” I say, exasperated, then a horrifying thought flashes in my mind, “Unless you bragged about it already!”

“No!” He straightens in his chair, looking offended, “I would never do something so vile,” He looks indignant, “plus, the fact still remains that something did happen last night, and I know about it! I can’t, in good faith, be your teacher.”

“Are you planning on showing me favoritism because you know what my pussy tastes like, Peeta?” I deadpan, “Or are you gonna blackmail me into doing it again?”

“Stop calling me Peeta!” He growls through his teeth, his very thick fingers clenching into fists on his armrests.

I blink at his reaction owlishly, realizing I’m truly pushing it this time.

“I’ve always prided myself on keeping my nose clean. Being a decent man and tutor. Never in 17 years of teaching have I slept with a co-ed, let alone a student in my own class.” He breathes deeply, then pins me to my chair, with those arresting blue eyes of his, burning with controlled anger, “I would never extort you or anyone for sexual favors, Katniss. While I don’t really want to lose my tenure or face other disciplinary actions from the school authorities, the one thing I truly don’t want to damage are my personal standards, and my self image.

“Katniss, I’m already biased when it comes to you. Being your professor won’t be exactly fair to anyone. I’m not saying I would give you A’s willy-nilly, nor that I would grade your papers any differently than I’d do your peers or that I’d be less critical of your work,”

“That’s reassuring,” I roll my eyes. “You’re telling me that if I bring you a shit essay, you might not be persuaded to let me redo it?”

He sighs, “I don’t know…” he scratches the back of his neck, “I’ll most likely hover over your desk a disproportionate amount of time compared to your classmates. There’s also a chance I’ll call on your name more often than the rest of them?”

“I still don’t hear one unscrupulous, wrong reason, why you can’t do your job, and teach this class.”

We sit there, staring at each other, at an impasse.

“Why are you so set on keeping me in that room, Miss Everdeen?” He asks, softly.

Finally, I relent, relaxing my tense shoulders, and exhaling tiredly. I raise my hands in defeat. “I don’t know, Peeta. Because I want to protect you, the same way you’re trying to protect me. But… recuse yourself if you have to. I still believe you’re a better man than your urges.”

Peeta relaxes in his chair too, “Thank you, Katniss.You didn’t have to say that, specially because you don’t know me. It still means a lot.”

I chew the inside of my lip, calculating stuff in my head. “You’re right, I don’t know you, but I consider myself an okay judge of character.” He opened this door, it’s time for me to walk through it, “Can I ask you some stuff?” I ask innocently.

Peeta arches his eyebrows. “Shoot,” he says.

“How old are you?”

“45. I’m sorry. I knew you were young last night… I just didn’t quite grasp just how young,” his eyes shift downwards, sheepish and uncomfortable.

“I’m an adult. I’ve been the head of my family for years. At this point, age is irrelevant for me.” I state, dismissively.

“What about your family?” He asks, tilting his head sideways.

It takes me a minute to answer. I cross my arms over my stomach, and exhale, “It’s been only Primrose and I for five years now. My mother had cancer. My father passed when I was eleven.” I rock in my chair, slightly, “That’s why my sister was being such a clingy bitch last night. She can’t bear to lose anyone else. Neither can I for that matter.”

Peeta leans forward on his desk. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Katniss.”

I sit back, feeling like a huge weight just got lifted off my shoulders. “It’s okay, really. I’m back in school, about to finish my last semester, Prim is doing great in university, the only debt we have right now is Prim’s car and my Target card… we are actually okay,” I smile, meekly at him.

“That’s… that’s good, Katniss. Admirable, really.”

“Peeta?” I start cautiously, “Would you really remove yourself from the class because of me?”

He looks me right in the eye, sincerity emanating fro his eyes. “Absolutely. Without hesitation. As soon as you leave, I’ll email my Head of Department, explaining my situation. Don’t worry, I won’t mention any names or details—“

I shake my head, vehemently.

Peeta squints, studying me cautiously, measuring me.

“Please… stay with me…”

Something in my tone catches his attention, and he eyes me curiously. “I’ve already told you why I can’t,” he says, almost soothingly.

I stand up. Go around my chair, and drop back down into it. I start shaking my leg nervously. “I had this feeling in my gut since last night. Like I lost something precious, I just couldn’t put a finger on it… I still can’t, to be honest. All I know, in my loins, is that I can’t let you step down from your position, and I sure as hell won’t walk away on you without figuring out what this…” I wiggle my fingers, pointing to the mouth of my stomach, “feeling is about.”

He stares at me.

I stand up again, and this time I just pace, to the wall with the pictures, and stare at a bunch of faces, too similar to Peeta’s not to be related to him somehow.

“I know I’m not making sense, but I just needed to say that.”

He watches me for a long beat, weighing his options no doubt, before answering, “I can’t be your teacher, Katniss…” he sighs, and rubs his forehead, “because I’m afraid seeing you every week, without being able to touch you will be absolute torture.”

“Really?” I bite my lip, giving him an open once over, not feeling one iota self conscious about. “How come?”

Peeta huffs, avoiding my eyes. “I’d be wondering what your breasts look like the whole time.” He confesses, flatly. “I didn’t get a chance to see them last night, and it kept me awake an indecent amount of time.” He twists his lips, “I’m gonna be pinning the whole semester, whether you’re in the classroom or not, craving the taste of your juices in my tongue, and worse of all, I’ll probably embarrass myself, giving me involuntary hard on’s just fantasizing about you.”

I practically prowl towards him. “You poor thing,” I coo, pouting. “Would you go home to masturbate on the soiled pair of panties I left behind on that dirty, bathroom floor?” I ask… more like, purr, really.

Peeta chuffs out an incredulous laugh, covering his face with both hands. He grunts, “Aw, fuck! That sounds so… it’s probably exactly what could happen. I’d try to stay professional in the classroom, but in the privacy of my home…” he chuckles weakly, shaking his head.

“What kind of fantasies are we entertaining here?” I ask, invested, and sit on the corner of his desk.

Peeta thins out his mouth, “Katniss… that’s a slippery slope you’re trying to climb,” he warns.

“Humor me?” I cajole.

He takes a stuttering breath. “I’ll bring you into this office, same way I did today, except I’ll rip your clothes off, throw you on the desk and take you hard and fast. From behind.”

I can’t stop a small sound at the back of my throat, nor the need to rub my thighs together.

I clear my throat, “I expect you’d want to fuck me on every surface in this office?”

Peeta pulls on the collar of his shirt, his face turning crimson, “And probably the lecture hall as well,” he adds conversationally.

I nod, scooting closer to where he sits. “I’m curious too you know. I didn’t get to see ‘any’ part of you naked. But my muscles still are deliciously sore from last night. A girl has to wonder… just how big a dick has to be to cause so much wreckage?”

It doesn’t take much effort at all to work him up. Peeta’s pants are tented in what looks like the most uncomfortable erection ever; he shifts in his chair to try and hide the effect my words have on him, yet, his hands remain folded on his lap, white knuckled with the effort of keeping himself in check. He’s really committed not to touch me while I’m still his student, but he rasps a question, full of concern.

“Did I hurt you?” His eyes search me, earnestly. “I’m sorry I was too rough, really,”

My heart gives a little somersault. “No, Peeta. You were pure perfection. I loved how you handled me.”

His lips twitch, and I’m amazed at how expressive his face is, even partially hidden under his near facial hair. “You said you were hungry last night before you got on your knees…” I murmur, “I think, next time I’ll return the favor,”

“Next time?”

I slide closer to him, but we both keep our hands to ourselves.

I lick my lips, resisting the urge to drop on my knees between his legs and gobble up his cock. I didn’t lie about wanting to see him in all his naked glory, but I can show the same level of restraint he does; I respect him for trying to keep a moral and ethical compass.

I smirk at him, slyly. “Are you sure you wanna abandon your post as my professor, now that my education is on the balance? We can wait a handful of months, Doctor Mellark… I promise not to tease you,” With that, I mean, I promise not to aggravate what could potentially be the worst case of blue balls in the history of slow burns.

Peeta hisses a mirthless chuckle, “You’re too much of a temptation, even if you don’t actively try teasing me, Katniss,”

I start playing with the end of my braided, dark hair. “You know what I’m most really looking forward to, from when I’m no longer your student?” I pose, shyly, “Going to that dinner you mentioned last night.” I shrug one shoulder. “I’ll let you buy me a stack of pancakes to celebrate my graduation. I’ll probably introduce you to my sister, Primrose… and we’d go from there… if you wanted to…”

Peeta smiles, disarmingly. “I’d love that too, Miss Everdeen.” He says quietly.

I let go of my braid, and hug myself, “Stay in the class?” I practically beg one last time. “We can do it, I know we can. We can have a platonic, completely innocent teacher-student relationship until I’m done with college,”

Peeta shakes his head. “We’ll see after I talk to my head of department. Who knows, maybe all the schedules are already locked in place, and I have no other choice but to stay put. There’s no guarantee a replacement is available for me.”

“We’ll make it work!” I say enthusiastically.

“Maybe…” he sighs, not entirely convinced.

I pull my phone out of my pocket to check the time. Time is running out, I gotta get to the pharmacy before my window of opportunity closes.

“Hey, Peeta… um, invasive, weird question?”

I wait for him to nod.

“Have you by any chance, have gotten a vasectomy at any point?”

“Mmm no, never had. Why?”

Aw shit!

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Hopefully no reason.” I say quickly, too nonchalant for my own good, and he catches on it, I can see the gears turning in his brain, “Okay,” I make a big show of yawning and stretching my arms, “I have to run some errands before going home and crashing for the night.”

Peeta cringes, “Are you… okay? Really, okay? You said you were sore?” His eyes rove over my face full of concern.

“I’m fine,” I smile, “nothing a long soaking in Epsom salts can’t cure.”

“Okay,” he says, unsure. “I don’t want to overstep any worse than I already have, but… I’ve been anxious, wondering if you were alright, if you got home fine to your sister since you left the club. Which, obviously you did… but, I wanted to kick myself for not asking your number, just to be able to check on you… and this is frown upon, a d completely unethical, but—“

“I’ll email you,” I say quickly. “Nothing explicit. But I’ll let you know I’m home and okay.” I’ve spoken to people in code before, this shouldn’t be a problem, and really, sending my professor an email with a time stamp and some innocuous question about the syllabus doesn’t have to be nefarious at all.

“Alright… Just let me know if there’s anything wrong, okay? I swear this won’t become a routine thing or anything, just this time, to give me peace of mind, and because it is late… and well, yesterday…”

“It’s fine, professor. I don’t mind. And… everything will work out,” I say shouldering my bag and pocketing my phone, “everything will work out, even if my Plan B doesn’t,” I smile and scurry out the door, before the puzzlement in his face has time to settle.

After all, a semester is only 15 weeks long, give or take… that’s plenty of time to figure things out.

#alliswell21 #animekpopxx #prompt 144 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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fruitcoops · 4 years ago

Note

I love your babysitting jules fic and the tell me how you know your boyfriend won't cheat on you fic. I was thinking, like remus and sirius have a day off and spend it with jules, and sirius goes somewhere and comes back to find remus and jules sleeping on the flour and they look similar and he just smiles.

Idk, hope this makes sense, I love all your fics.

It totally makes sense and it’s super cute! Thanks for such a wonderful suggestion <3 This is Part 4 of Adventures in Babysitting (1 2 3)

Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

As much as Sirius loved hockey, he had to admit break days were his favorite part of the week. Most weekends, he and Remus would roll out of bed sometime around eleven, have lunch, go for a walk, and then turn into total couch potatoes if they didn’t have anything important to do.

But they had a kid now, so that plan had to change.

They managed to stay in bed until nine before soft rustling sounds began in Jules’ room—Remus’ aggressive cuddling delayed them for a bit longer, which Sirius did not have any complaints about, but eventually they knew it was time to move.

“Dinner’s at six, right?” Sirius asked as he washed his face while Remus tracked down a t-shirt. Shirtless mornings were another tragic sacrifice while Jules was around.

“Yep. Dumo said we could get there at five-thirty, though. Apparently, Katie’s been dying to see Jules again.” Remus kissed the back of his shoulder as he reached for a toothbrush. “I was thinking we could just let him choose what we do today.”

“Makes it a lot easier on us.”

“And it makes it extra special for him,” Remus mumbled around a mouthful of toothpaste. “We still get veto power, though.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

Jules was still in his bedroom when they went downstairs and for a fleeting moment, Sirius wondered if they had woken up early for nothing. “He’ll be down soon,” Remus said as if he could read his mind, pressing two coffee cups into Sirius’ hands. “All those cool knickknacks in the guest room will keep him distracted for a bit.”

Sure enough, excited footsteps followed a sharp gasp less than ten minutes later. Remus smiled over the rim of his coffee cup and walked over to the pantry to pull out the pancake mix. “Morning—"

“Is it true you won the regional All-Stars when you were in high school?” Jules blurted as he skidded into the kitchen and shoved a small trophy into Sirius’ hands, panting like he had run a mile.

Sirius squinted down at the little figurine; in all honesty, he had forgotten he even had it. “Where did you find this?”

“In the nightstand. Is it true?”

“Uh, yeah, it is.” He set it on the counter with their other random items. “Thanks for finding it, bud.”

Jules glowed under his approval and Remus bit his lip to stifle laughter. “Re, can we have chocolate pancakes?”

“We don’t have any chocolate chips, sorry,” Remus said as he mixed the batter. Liar. Sirius shot him a look, and he stuck out his tongue playfully behind Jules’ back. “We’ve got some fun news, though.”

“What?”

“There’s no practice today and you get to decide what we do.”

Jules’ jaw dropped. “Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“Awesome! Mom and Dad never want to see the cool stuff because they’re busy with museums and games and friends but there are so many places I wanna go,” Jules said in one rushing breath. Sirius blinked in shock, but Remus seemed unfazed as he handed the spatula over. “Thanks!”

“Sure thing.”

“Sirius, what are your favorite places?” Jules turned to him, still licking the spatula like his life depended on it.

Sirius took a moment to think and suppress a smile. “I like the roller rink, and the aquarium, and the park.”

“We already went to the park.”

“We can go again if you want,” he laughed. “You made friends, right?”

“Yeah, but I probably won’t see them again.” Oh, to have a child’s nonchalance when it comes to friends. “The aquarium sounds really neat!”

“It’s pretty cool,” Remus agreed as he ladled out batter into the pan. “They put in a new exhibit recently.”

“Sweet! Can we go now?”

“Don’t you want pancakes?” Sirius asked. “I know I do.”

Jules nodded rapidly. “I do, too. Can I ride on your shoulders?”

“Now?”

“At the aquarium.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“How tall are you?”

Sirius paused, then gave him a conspiratorial look. “Eleven feet tall.”

Remus burst out laughing and nearly burned himself on the pan; Jules rolled his eyes. “Come on. I’m ten, that doesn’t work on me anymore.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Sirius took a sip of coffee. “I’m 191 centimeters tall.”

“Huh?”

“Almost two meters.”

Jules looked over to Remus, who shook his head with a smile. “He’s six foot three, Jules, and he’s messing with you by being fancy and Canadian.”

“How tall are you?” Jules asked, folding his knees under himself to reach the butter with his fork as Remus passed him a plate of pancakes.

Remus sighed. “Five foot eleven and a half.”

“Ha! Short.”

“Shut up, you’re still an Oompa Loompa.”

“I’m more than a foot taller than Oompa Loopmas,” Jules said haughtily, shoveling pancake into his mouth. “I looked it up the last time you called me that.”

“Look at you go! Gold star!”

Sirius cheeks were starting to hurt from holding down his laughter and Remus winked as he passed another plate over. “Thanks, love.”

“Why do couples have nicknames?” Jules asked. “I always thought it was a little weird. Mom and Dad have actual names, but they never really use them. It’s always honey, darling, other sappy stuff.”

Remus shrugged as he sat down with them. “Why do you call me Re? That’s not my full name.”

Jules thought for a second. “Partly because ‘Remus’ sounds like a stuffy old museum name.”

“Oh, and ‘Julian’ doesn’t?” Remus teased. “Usually, people give nicknames because they care about each other. Couples just have an extra level to that.”

“I don’t really like it when people call me by my full name, either,” Sirius added.

Jules frowned. “But people call you by your first name all the time.”

“They do. But my friends usually don’t. There’s Cap, Padfoot, whatever your brother comes up with that day…”

“I call you Sirius.”

“I don’t mind as much when you say it.” Because you’re adorable and I would literally do anything for you. “You can call me whatever you want.”

Jules seemed satisfied by that answer and turned back to his pancakes; Sirius caught Remus quickly looking away when he glanced back up and smiled, giving him a quick nudge with his foot. Baby, Remus mouthed with a slight smirk. Sirius rolled his eyes.

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

The aquarium was busy, but it was a weekend, after all. They only had to wait in line for ten minutes; during that time, Jules made three new friends and every single one of the parents thought he was their son. Even the ticket salesman offered them a family discount that Remus politely declined.

But…it wasn’t a bad thought. Sirius let it ruminate in the back of his mind as he helped Jules onto his shoulders and Remus grabbed a map from the kiosk for when they inevitably got turned around. Definitely not this year, or the next, but someday Sirius did want to say ‘yes’ to the parents and kids discount, though he couldn’t place his finger on why.

And then they reached the whale exhibit. A huge humpback skeleton hung from the ceiling in a smooth curve, its mouth open to reveal perfectly preserved baleen. Jules reached up and trailed his fingers through the space below its massive ribcage—he was too short to touch it still, but the pure awe on his face took Sirius’ breath away more than any deep-sea creature could.

“Baby, can you get a picture of us by the glass?” Remus asked. Ahead of them, a huge tank stretched into a tunnel that lead to the tropical exhibit; Sirius nodded and bent to let Jules down.

“Race you there!” he called, running across the well-worn blue carpet at full tilt. Remus followed him with a laugh and caught him just before they reached the glass, swinging him off his feet by the armpits and turning to face Sirius.

His throat tightened a bit as he took his phone out for the picture. They beamed at him with almost-identical smiles, right down to the dimples. That. That right there, he thought. That’s what I want. “Got it.”

“Awesome, your turn.” Remus put Jules down and began walking over, but an older man motioned to Sirius just before he put his phone away.

“Excuse me, would you like me to get a picture of all three of you?” he asked. A little girl—his granddaughter, perhaps—watched them shyly from behind his legs.

“Oh. Yes, thank you.” Sirius handed him his cell phone and went over to the glass, wrapping one arm around Remus’ waist and draping the other over Jules’ shoulder. They smiled, backlit with blues and greens and aquamarine.

“Alright, I took a few.” The man gave Sirius’ phone back and patted him on the arm as the little girl tugged his sleeve. “You have a beautiful family. Have a good day!”

Sirius didn’t fully snap out of his daze until they were in the tropical tunnel, where fish in colors he could never dream of darted back and forth and fascinated Jules. The aquarium used to be his favorite place in Gryffindor; now, it was probably his favorite place in the world.

Remus led them through a series of corridors, pausing every now and then when Jules scampered toward the next tank, though he seemed to have something on his mind. When Sirius shot him a questioning look, he kissed his cheek and held his hand instead of answering. They wandered past the sting rays, the turtles, and the sharks, until Sirius recognized the multicolored lights from the next room over and stopped in his tracks. “No.”

Remus grinned. “Yeah.”

Jules looked between them in clear confusion. “What?”

“I gotta show you something, c’mere.” Sirius crouched down and helped him back onto his shoulders, then ducked into the adjacent exhibit. Immediately, he heard Jules gasp as jellyfish surrounded them.

“Woah.”

“Isn’t it cool?” His smile was staring to hurt his cheeks. “Here, this in my favorite part.”

Sirius walked to the twelve-foot arch near the middle of the room and stood beneath it, basking in the warmth of the bright lights below as jellyfish of a billion sizes floated overhead. He sighed and leaned his head back slightly to get a better look.

Jules stretched his arms up, trying to touch the glass. “Wow,” he breathed.

When Sirius looked back down, he saw Remus lowering his phone with a small smile. “Had to get a good one,” he said as he stepped under the arch with them and leaned into Sirius’ side. Jules reached down and flipped his baseball cap backwards. “Thanks, buddy.”

“I’ve been waiting to do that for ages.”

“Good to know,” Remus laughed. “Ready to move on?”

“Just a second,” Sirius said, pulling Remus’ arm around his waist. “Just a bit longer. We’ve got nowhere to be but here.”

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

They did, in fact, have somewhere to be, though Sirius didn’t remember that until 3:30 pm. He also remembered that they were supposed to bring dessert that night and unless Remus wanted to out himself as a liar by busting out the chocolate chips in the cupboard, they needed a plan B.

The grocery store was blessedly empty when he arrived, which meant he could use self-checkout for the two containers of cookies he bought—thank god. As much fun as the aquarium was, there were so many people, and they were everywhere.

I need a nap, he thought as he walked back out to the car and watched his breath steam in the December air. And, like, half an hour by myself to listen to music.

The first thing he noticed was that the house was quiet. Hattie didn’t bark when he got out of the car, or when he unlocked the front door, or called out a hesitant “hello?” while he took his shoes off. Nothing seemed amiss, other than the fact that Jules had been bouncing off the walls when he left.

The living room held the answers to all his questions. Hattie was passed out on the couch, splayed with her belly to the ceiling. Jules and Remus were asleep on the carpet with The Fellowship of the Ring between them; clearly, they had been mid-chapter when they dozed off. Sirius set the cookies on the counter and carefully slid the book out of Remus’ hands, setting it on the coffee table before pulling the thick knitted blanket off the couch.

Hattie grumbled at him and cracked an eye open. “Shhh,” he said softly, kissing her forehead before laying the blanket over the other two. They looked so alike—their hair was nearly the same shade, and Jules’ jaw was only slightly narrower than Remus’. Sirius bet that in ten years, it would be hard to tell them apart in photos.

He crept upstairs and set a timer for 4:30. James had recommended a new band ten minutes before midnight, and Sirius figured he should at least give it a shot if it was so important. He grabbed his headphones, pressed play, and let out a deep breath as he sank back into the pillows.

Half an hour went by too fast, and before he knew it the alarm was ringing instead of the steady bass of the new song. He squinted at the clock, praying it would be wrong, and sighed when he saw that technology had won out once again.

Remus and Jules were still asleep on the floor, though they had cuddled closer at some point and the blanket nearly covered Jules entirely. Sirius crouched down next to Remus and brushed his hair off his forehead before gently shaking his shoulder. “Re. Sweetheart, it’s time to get up.”

“No,” Remus murmured.

“Come on, mon loup, dinner’s in an hour.”

“ ‘m tired. C’mere.”

“I would love to, but we promised Dumo we’d be there.”

“Sirius?” Jules blinked up at him sleepily.

“Hey, buddy.”

“We hafta get up?”

“Don’t listen to him,” Remus said without opening his eyes.

“Love you, too,” Sirius laughed quietly. “I got cookies.”

“Cookies?” Jules sat up fully at that and rubbed his eyes; Remus groaned and rolled onto his back.

“Technically, they’re for after dinner, but an exception can be made.”

Remus stared at him for a moment, then sighed and held his hands up as Jules hurried into the kitchen. “Alright, fine.”

Sirius pulled him to his feet and kissed his forehead. “We’ve got about forty-five minutes before we need to head out, okay?”

“So we could’ve napped for thirty more.”

“You could, but then you’d both be cranky.” Sirius leaned back to look into the kitchen. “Just one, Jules! Save some for Katie and the others!”

There was a beat of silence, then a heavy sigh. “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius’ waist and leaned his forehead against his chest, nuzzling into his sweatshirt. “You’re so soft. And warm.”

“It’s a gift.”

“Perfect place to take a nap.”

“Oh, no you don’t.” Sirius carefully detached Remus’ grip and he exhaled slowly.

“Thank you for picking up cookies, baby. Was there anything else we needed to bring?”

“Just ourselves.” He placed another kiss to his cheek and Remus stretched his arms over his head.

“Oof. Okay. I’ll go get a different shirt on and wrangle the kid if you want to find a plate to pretend the cookies are ours.”

“You read my mind,” Sirius said, earning himself a proper kiss before Remus turned and headed into the kitchen.

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

They pulled into Dumo’s driveway at 5:40, which wasn’t bad, all things considered. Jules and Katie disappeared in a hurricane of excited rambling as soon as the door opened and Dumo burst out laughing the second he saw them. “Welcome to parenthood,” he said, pulling them each in for a hug. “How are you liking your free trial?”

“I’ve never been more exhausted in my life.” Remus shook his head as he took his coat off. “But I love it, for some reason.”

“That sums it up.” Celeste stood on her tiptoes to kiss each of Sirius’ cheeks. “Did you bring dessert?” He wordlessly held the plate out and she raised an eyebrow. “You remembered at…4 pm.”

“3:30.”

“You’re getting better, mon fils. Marc, Adele, come set the table!” Upstairs, two different sets of footsteps tumbled over each other as they came running down the stairs; both crashed into Sirius for hugs, just like they had when he first moved in.

“Bonjour,” he laughed, squeezing them tight and planting kisses to the tops of their heads. “I hope Regulus hasn’t been driving you too crazy.”

“I think he’s still asleep,” Adele said as she stepped back. Celeste shooed them both toward the dining room as Sirius raised his eyebrows.

“Un moment, s’il vous plait.” Dumo and Remus wandered off to supervise the kids while Sirius headed for the basement door. Regulus was nearly twenty years old—it wasn’t like he needed those blankets at six in the evening, anyway, and Sirius was only too happy to give him a rousing wake-up call. It was his right as an older brother.

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justapoet · 3 years ago

Note

Hi mary! Can I request for tarlos: 37 "How weird is it that I just realized I want to marry you?" thank you in advance! xx

Sara!! Thank you so much for sending this ask! I really hope you like it :)

Prompt list: "How weird is it that I just realized I want to marry you?"

Send me a prompt!

2.2k | read it on Ao3

let's have conversations in the dark

Time seems to stand still whenever you need it to rush, and TK had learned it from a young age. The clocks seem to play a trick and decide not to move the way they're supposed to, just to prove whoever was staring that, even if time is merely a human concept, it still holds power over their existence.

It's something he had learned to deal with, only because he really needed to. Since he was a kid, his father would end up in a hospital, and he would be in the waiting room, staring at the clocks and hoping for the moment he would look back and see that it wasn't too bad to wait in there.

Time would pretend not to exist while TK would ask anyone above their heads to bring his father back home.

And, yet as a kid, TK would stare at the clocks and count the seconds until the time he knew both his mother and father would leave work. He would sit by the kitchen counter with his dinner and stare at the pointers, his leg bouncing and his heart racing, expecting the minute they would walk in through the door and look at his new "super-awesome" dinosaur pajama.

Time would go too fast until they would say it was time for him to sleep, and the nights would go too slow just for him to see that none of them were home by the morning.

Growing up, TK would try to fool the clocks, pretending he was having fun when he needed time to go faster and lying about how boring things were whenever he wanted the minutes to freeze for a few hours. It was silly, he could see, but also endearing ― according to Enzo.

He would slowly learn how to deal with it, though, not playing tricks on time anymore ― he would take a deep breath and just accept things as they were, hoping that the waiting would turn out to have a happy ending. TK would go out for a walk, watch a movie or a random show, or start some new book he had left on his shelf for far too long.

He would make peace with time until the moment he began to wish that time didn't even exist at all.

It was funny when he looked back to see how much things changed in a couple of years. The nights he would wish that never came so he could stay awake a bit more would become his only refugee and shelter from his parents' fights or absence, and the hours he spent crying would be just known for him and the walls. The sunny days he loved so deeply would become torture, people asking why he didn't go out or acted like a typical teenager, enjoying life and the young years.

And when he couldn't even remember how the days passed by, TK would wish the clocks to stop moving. Just for a bit ― just so he could rest. Just so he didn't have to cry for one more night.

It was weird just how that time wasn't a long time ago. And even more when, sometimes, those thoughts would take up TK's mind, hours, and seconds.

He was getting better, though, in both time and misery management. Sure, the clocks still stopped whenever he needed or desperately wanted it to go faster and rush whenever he wanted more time, but he was getting better at dealing with his agony and deception.

Especially when, after a shift from hell, even if it was only a twelve-hour one, TK got to get home to Carlos.

It was a Friday, and the both of them had the weekend off. Although they had planned to take a trip to Marble Falls, less than an hour from Austin, so they could relax and have some time to enjoy each other's company, Carlos getting sick had terminated that they wouldn't get too far out of the house.

Carlos got pretty upset over it, apologizing and saying that he didn't mean to ruin their plans ― and TK had only hugged Carlos close to his chest, trying to take the groundless guilt out of the man's mind. He dismissed every apology, saying that the only thing that mattered was that Carlos would get better so they could plan their trip again.

It had happened on a Wednesday, and TK had taken Thursday off after they had to take a ride to the ER within the late hours of the night ― or early ones in the day, for that matter. Carlos was running out of air and vomiting everything he didn't have in his stomach, and his fever was high enough for TK to cry when waiting for the doctor ― and, when she came, he couldn't get himself to pay attention as he should have.

His boyfriend was whimpering, crying, and asking for them to go home, and TK wasn't strong as he needed to be at that moment. The clocks wouldn't tick by, and Carlos would ask how long they've been there every five minutes, and TK would only wish it was nothing, and he only needed some fluids and regular medication.

TK knew it wasn't too serious ― he was experienced enough to know that ― but seeing Carlos in pain was a hell-sent experience. He would get withdrawn and make himself look small, silently begging for it to stop and searching for any contact TK could offer. TK would offer him a smile, some comfort words, and would caress his sweaty, messy curls just to get a shadow-ish grin in response.

It was worthy, though.

When Carlos got discharged, a few hours after he was admitted, TK messaged Grace so she could talk to Tommy and Judd ― who would tell the rest of the team ―, and Andrea and Gabriel, letting them know that he was okay. Both Grace and Carlos' mother had offered to make them some soup, and TK knew better than decline any offer, sending a thumbs up and a heart.

Against his will, he had gone to work Friday morning, his heart getting lighter when Grace knocked on their door minutes before he had to go. Carlos was still sleeping, curled upon himself, and TK pressed a kiss to his forehead before hugging Grace tight and leaving to the fire station.

And no matter how much he trusted Grace or how deeply he loved his job, he had spent the whole shift staring at some clock whenever he could. He wanted to go home, ask how Carlos was doing, and then let the other man curl himself against his side to feel some sense of protection ― he just wanted to see his boyfriend again and make sure he was there.

So, TK had taken a shower at the station before accepting Judd's ride to get Grace and check on Carlos, thanking God when he waited in the car, and Grace was already by the door. He loved them both, he really did ― but he didn't want to be cordial at the moment.

TK walked up the stairs silently, thanking God that their room was further in the hallway than it was in the condo they'd lost to the fire. His bag and shoes were left by the locked door, and he had thrown his hoodie somewhere in the living room.

He stepped lightly inside their bedroom, smiling fondly at the sight of Carlos lying on his back with one of his arms thrown over his face and the other in the vacant space that belongs to TK. His chest was rising and falling more smoothly than it was on the two previous days, and the paramedic couldn't help but sigh in relief at that.

Not wanting to wake his boyfriend up, TK made his way to their bathroom to take his clothes off, except for his boxers, and brush his teeth, stretching his back and letting the day settle behind him. Knowing he wouldn't fall asleep so easily ― worrying was inevitable ― TK walked to the bookshelf they had in their bedroom, taking one of the books he had bought and had yet to read it.

Then, he took his steps to their bed, where Carlos had already moved his arm from, and sat with his back pressed against the headboard, taking one of the blankets and covering his legs. He smiled at the man beside him before making himself comfortable and opening the first pages of the book, sighing in relief to be home.

TK didn't make it to the third page when Carlos groaned and turned his body, stretching his arm and loosening it to fall over the paramedic's lap and the book he was reading. TK blinked in surprise, turning to Carlos and then chuckling softly, his heart swelling with how much he loved that moment.

"Miss'd 'ou," Carlos grumbled, getting closer to TK and making him slip down a little so his boyfriend could hug his waist, at least. The paramedic closed the book, then, putting it over the bedside table, and turned lowered his eyes again, watching Carlos' sleepy face.

"I missed you, too, babe," TK said. "How are you feeling?"

It took Carlos a bit to process the question, his fogged brain still too deep in unconsciousness. When he did, he snuggled even closer, his head almost placed over TK's stomach and his arm not hugging him but still thrown over his frame.

"I'm good," Carlos said. "I missed..." he stopped, almost drifting to sleep again. TK thought he would, but then he took another breath, leaning closer to TK's fingers on his hair. "You," the man completed, and TK smiled fondly.

"Me too, love," TK said. "Are you comfortable like this?"

"Uh-hu," Carlos answered and then frowned. TK watched, his fingers scratching his boyfriend's nape. "Are you― I am not― the door," the man grumbled, and TK noticed he wasn't in their room anymore but somewhere in his sleep-fogged mind.

"What?" TK asked anyway. Carlos groaned, and TK thought he would pull away, but he seemed to think twice and froze in place.

"Did you get the... the rings?" Carlos mumbled, and TK frowned with a smile.

"The rings, sweetheart?" he asked, moving down a bit each second to be lying down like Carlos. His neck would be thankful in the following morning.

"Yeah," Carlos agreed, and TK was more than sure that he didn't know what he was agreeing to.

"Which ones?" TK asked again, watching as Carlos' lips parted so he could breathe better between each sentence.

"The... Uh," Carlos mumbled, now against TK's chest. "Saturn," he completed, and TK held back a chuckle that could wake him up. Instead, he passed his arm around Carlos, hugging him close, and took another of the blankets to cover his boyfriend.

"Saturn? I don't think I have them, love," TK said, an inch of supposed sadness in his voice. When he thought Carlos had fallen asleep once more, his boyfriend snuggled even closer.

"'ts okay," Carlos said. "Love you," he mumbled, and TK's breath got caught in his throat as if it was the first time he had heard Carlos say that he loved him.

He looked down at the man cuddled around him, and his mind settled with the peace he hadn't felt in forever. Time, well-known for its games and tricks, seemed to realize just how wide, gigantic, and precious that moment was, stopping in its tracks and lingering in the air just like those promises TK never dared to break apart.

Suddenly, there was silence and a quiet realization of the loudest of TK's feelings ― suddenly, there was just who they were, in all their greatness and insignificance, and it was enough.

It was enough, and it was real. Unlike the concepts of life, death, time, it was real, tangible, there, and theirs. Unlike the unknown presence of an unexistent villain, the clocks seemed to realize that there was something there that no one could ever put in words. Unlike all the demons, and the waiting rooms, and the sleepless nights and the feeling they hold, there was peace.

And there was a certainty TK could never see coming.

So, he smiled because there was nothing else to summarize what he was feeling.

"How weird is it that I just realized I want to marry you?" he whispered to the silence, Carlos' breaths slow and steady, indicating how he was already deep in his sleep. TK sighed, staring at the man he loved as if he was the most precious thing to be something on Earth, and lifted his head to press a kiss to the messy, brown curls.

He stretched his other arm, then, and took Carlos' hand in his, watching as, unconsciously, his boyfriend's fingers tangled around his own, a sigh escaping from his parted lips.

"I love you," TK confessed, his voice echoing in the room. "And I'll get the rings, too. Soon," he said again, his heart thundering in his chest with how sweet and sure the words sounded out of his lips. Carlos didn't move, and TK closed his eyes so he could join his lover in his sleep. "Promise."

And time didn't dare to rush their beating hearts, lulling them to sleep in peaceful silence and a glowing ticking of frozen clocks.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #carlos reyes #tk strand #prompt fic #my fic #prompts #my writing #my fics

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holidaywishes · 4 years ago

Text

then we‘ll start our life together

Requested: 👍

Summary/Request: Freddie starts to spend time with Jackson and keeps pressing to tell him the truth; the secret finally comes out to Fred’s parents; (Y/N) has to make a choice.

Warning: fluff, maybe a tiny bit of angst but I wouldn’t count on it

Author’s Note: Can I first say how much I love this GIF? He looks so fucking good, I can’t stand it. He’s smiling, he’s got scruff, the maroon/burgundy hat looks A-MA-ZING on him 🤤 Anyway, moving on. This is the last part of the request that @kayleafs221 sent me a while back that started as just a two-parter. We worked on part three together and I think it turned out really well but they really wanted the reader and Freddie together -- they just didn’t know how to write it. Enter: me! As much as I love writing angst, and as well as I think I can write it, I’m a hopeless romantic at heart so a happy ending is always in sight when I’m writing. It’s sort of a long chapter because of everything that needed to be fit in for it to be a happy ending without just... cutting to the happy ending. I hope you enjoy it! Stay Golden, my loves! <3!

P.S. I'm sorry this took SO long to get out. I started writing it a bunch of times and then things happened around the house that took and held my attention. BUT I'M HERE NOW! It's snowing today when it was +20 yesterday and I've got a bunch of goodies to keep me focused on sitting down and writing. It's like being back in University writing my god damn thesis again 😂😂 ENJOY! By the way, this is the dress I was trying to describe, hopefully it came through!

masterlist

the other masterlist

Freddie’s P.O.V

When you found out Jackson was yours, you felt a lot of things. You were mad that you didn’t get to have those first six years, frustrated that (Y/N) didn’t reach out to you to at least tell you that he was yours, but you were also happy that you were able to see him grow up now. When she asked you if you wanted to finally meet Jackson, you nearly screamed over the phone; like a fangirl

“Relax!” she laughed, “you can’t say anything. I just told him a friend of mine was in town and we were going to meet him for lunch. He doesn’t know anything okay? And you can’t let on about.. anything”

“I know. I promise I won’t”

“Oh another thing,” she added, “wear a hat”

“A hat?” you scoffed

“He’s a smart kid and if he sees that you’ve got red hair, he’ll figure it out”

“Fine, I’ll wear a hat” you teased

“Thank you.” You were sure that you’d be able to keep yourself together but you had downed two glasses of water before (Y/N) and Jackson even got to the restaurant. When the hostess brought them to the table, your eyes went wide when you saw the little strawberry blonde boy clutching the hand of his mother; a perfect mix of you and her

“Hey,” (Y/N) greeted with a smile, “Jackson, this is Freddie. Freddie, this is Jackson, my son”

“Hi Jackson” you smiled, standing up excitedly earning a glare from (Y/N) as the little boy hid behind her legs

“Sweetheart, can you say hi to Freddie?” she asked

“Hello” he whispered

“It’s nice to meet you, little man”

“Let’s sit down, huh?” (Y/N) smirked, directly Jackson and you back to the chairs, “who’s hungry?”

“Me!” Jackson exclaimed, earning a laugh from you before you all scanned the menu. You could feel (Y/N) watching the two of you as Jackson started talking about his sports teams, going from Soccer to Baseball to Basketball in one breath, his excitement palpable

“Have you ever wanted to try Hockey?” you asked

“I don’t know how to skate” he mumbled

“We live in California,” (Y/N) scoffed, “there’s not a lot of ice there”

“There are always rinks” you added, catching her angry glare that you knew meant you were getting dangerously close to exposing the secret she’d tried so hard to keep. “I can always help you learn...”

“No way! Really?!” he exclaimed, leading your eyes to catch (Y/N) biting her lip insecurely

“Only if your mom is okay with it. And if it’s something you really want”

“Mommy, please!” he begged, “it’s the only one I haven’t tried! I wanna try! He can help me, mama!”

“How about we eat first and then we can figure all that stuff out later?” she laughed and Jackson nodded happily, sitting back in his seat. It wasn't long into the meal that Jackson continued to beg to learn how to skate with you and you could feel (Y/N) become more agitated with you

"Hey, Jackson," you interrupted his excitement, "what's your favourite snack?"

"Mmm..." he hummed as he contemplated his answer, "black licorice!" (Y/N) scoffed and shook her head before peeking up at you

"I don't get it," she replied, "no one actually likes black licorice unless they're like a.. grandma or something"

"I love black licorice!" you exclaimed

"You do?!" Jackson asked and you nodded. "SEE MOM! I TOLD YOU I WASN'T THE ONLY ONE!"

"I know you did, baby" she sighed before Jackson excused himself to go to the bathroom

"He's so cute" you began to coo

"You're the only other person I know who actually likes black licorice"

"Should I not have said that?" you winced

"I don't know... he could think it's just a miraculous coincidence"

"Look," you smiled, "it's a Danish thing. We all eat black licorice like it's chocolate. Should we tell him that?"

"I--" she started, stopping only when he came back, "Hey sweetie! everything go okay?"

"Yeah, mom.." he sneered

"One of these days I'm not gonna ask and you're gonna miss it" she joked

"Yeah right," he scoffed. When you finished the meal, Jackson told you that they were heading downtown to go to the CN Tower before you left, "wanna come?"

"I don't know... what does your mom think?" you smiled and turned your gaze to (Y/N)

"Mom thinks it's fine"

"AND THEN WE CAN GO SKATING!"

"Jackson..." she sighed, shaking her head while the three of you walked through the streets and made your way downtown to the city’s major tourist attraction. The ride up to the top, to the observation deck, was silent as Jackson got as close to the window as he could to look out at the city, letting you and (Y/N) linger near each other with each passing second. "He likes you" she whispered

"He's a great kid" you whispered back and she smiled

"He really is"

"MOM LOOK!" Jackson pointed out to the city and she walked to him, kneeling down behind him so he could show her what he was seeing. You so wanted to be part of it but you knew you had to wait for her to say that it was time; she looked back at you with a soft smile before dropping her head against her sons shoulder.

When you and Jackson got back to California, he had so many questions about Freddie

“Why did we hang out with him all weekend?”

“Did you date?”

“Why is he so tall?”

“Is he gonna teach me how to skate?”

“When are we gonna see him again?”

You had to take a deep breath to try to answer his questions, telling him that you two dated a long time ago, that you lost touch and that you might never see him again but that seeing him now was enough.

“But is he gonna teach me how to skate?” he asked again and you chuckled

“I can teach you how to skate...” you lied

“He said he wanted to though!”

“Jackson.. baby, we’re not close to him. Physically. We can find someone to teach yo—”

“I WANT HIM TO TEACH ME!” he whined, forcing you to furrow your brow at him

“Jackson!” you tried to sound stern but your surprise kept creeping in

“I DON’T KNOW WHY HE CAN’T TEACH ME!!! I WANT HIM TO TEACH ME HOW TO SKATE!”

“JACKSON CALEB (Y/L/N)!” you yelled, “DO NOT YELL AT ME!”

“I WANT—”

“ENOUGH!” you shouted, “you cannot whine and yell and throw a temper tantrum and expect to get what you want. If you really want to learn how to skate, we can find someone but do not try to force me to do exactly what you want” you watched the corners of his mouth shift into a frown before his eyes brimmed with tears. “Baby, I’m sorry. I love that you want him to teach you but he’s so busy and he’s so far away, we can’t do it as easily as you think...”

“Can’t he come here?” he asked softly

“Sure he can,” you added, lifting him up onto the couch so you could kneel in front of him, “but it won’t be every day. It would only be when he’s here for work and that means he might not have a lot of spare time...”

“But if we take lessons here then he’ll be able to see my progress!”

“Absolutely kiddo!”

“AWESOME!” he exclaimed, jumping off the couch and running to his room. You were left a bit in shock at the conversation but you could feel the need for Jackson to have a father figure creeping closer and closer. When your phone rang, you slumped onto the couch and answered it

“Hello” you sighed

“(Y/N)!! Oh my god!” Amalie greeted happily from the other line

“Amalie? Hi... what’s going on?”

“I saw the pictures of your little boy! He looks so much like Freddie. How come you didn’t tell us?!”

“Hold on... slow down, what are you talking about?”

“Fred called mom and told her the good news. We’re so excited to have another Andersen!”

“He told you? About Jackson?”

“Jackson, oh I love that name!” she cooed

“I’m sorry, what exactly did he say?” you asked, curious how much Freddie actually said

“He just called mom gushing about how he spent the whole weekend with his son. When mom stopped screaming with excitement, he said that Jackson,” she giggled as she said his name, “is great at sports but he doesn’t know how to skate yet, which my dad was shocked about” she laughed. “Mom had him on speaker obviously, so we all heard as he was talking to her. He was so excited to tell us about him. But, (Y/N)... why did you keep him from us?”

“What?”

“Look, no one else seemed to catch on that he was your son and that you and Fred haven’t seen each other in 6 years? But I did and I don’t get it...”

“Freddie got traded and he had to hop on a plane and forget everything in California. I didn’t find out I was pregnant for another two months after he left so it wasn’t like I intended to... I thought about reaching out to him so many times but his life was so public and I couldn’t imagine putting my son through all of that without a choice”

“But he’s Freddie’s son too” she countered and you could only shake your head to yourself. You were tired of explaining this to everyone

“I know but I needed to protect Jackson above everything. Look, Fred and I discussed all this and we’ve agreed to let him get to know Jackson slowly”

“And he’s okay with that?” you scoffed

“He’s a little hesitant, sure, but he agrees that this is what’s best”

“I just don’t want my big brother to get... cheated out of more time with his son”

“He won’t”

“I don’t want him getting hurt”

“Amalie, I appreciate all of this. Honest, I do, but my job is to protect my son and sometimes that means keeping secrets from people...”

“I don’t know, that doesn’t seem right”

“I,” you started, calming your tone as you were starting to get agitated, “I have to go, Amalie. Tell everyone I say hi and I’m sure I’ll be talking with you all soon”

“Bye!” You were almost fuming at the thought that Freddie went behind your back and told his family about your son

“Hello” Freddie greeted from the other line

“WHAT THE HELL FREDDIE?!” you shouted

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?” he replied, playing dumb

“You told your family???? I thought we discussed this, Freddie!”

“I told my — I was excited. It slipped, I’m sorry” you dropped your head to your free hand and shook your head

"I don't even know what to say right now..."

"I promise Jackson won't know anything until you're ready"

"Glad to hear it," you scoffed, "look, just run some of these things by me first. I'm not a huge fan of surprises, I'd like to be prepared if I have to defend myself okay?"

"I get it, I'm sorry. It won't happen again"

"Thank you" you smiled to yourself before dropping the topic. His voice calmed you down enough for you to take a deep breath and he spent the next 20 minutes telling you how much fun he had with you and Jackson and how he missed you already; you laughed and told him how much Jackson was pestering you about learning to skate

"I'm sorry" Freddie said

"No no!" you smirked, "it's okay, he's so excited. It's adorable. He actually yelled at me when I told him you couldn't teach him"

"Really?" he asked, a lightness in his tone that brought you back to how the two of you used to be

"Yeah," you admitted, "he really likes you. I think it's actually gonna be really easy to tell him; honestly, I think he'll be happy about it"

"I'm happy to hear that," he replied, "so when are we gonna tell him?"

"Don't push your luck, Mr. Goaltender. It's still gonna take some time" you weren't sure how much time but you knew you weren't ready for the truth to come out yet, no matter how well they were getting along.

Freddie's P.O.V

After (Y/N) found out that you told your mom, who in turn alerted the entire family, that you had a son, you were sure she'd be too angry to let him spend any more time with you.

"We finally found him a teacher," she said over the phone, informing you about Jackson's time on the ice, "he's a great guy. Really positive with Jackson, really encouraging. J seems like he's having a lot of fun -- he keeps saying he can't wait to go skating with you"

"That's great!" you exclaimed, "when will you guys be in Toronto?"

"We won't," she said simply

"Oh... I don't understand?"

"Fred, my job isn't like your job. I can't just fly off to Toronto with my son"

"Even on the weekends?"

"Yeah, even on the weekends" she scoffed

"So, what then? How am I supposed to take him skating and see where he's at with everything? How am I supposed to get to know my son when I can't even see him?"

"Come here," she blurted out, forcing you to keep silent and take a seat on your couch, "whenever your next game in California is, take some time and come see us. We can meet you somewhere, we'd make that work"

"I don't think I'd have any free time..." you answered

"Just tell us when you're in town and we'll make it work. Trust me, okay?" she said and you could hear her smile, "I have to go but I'll text you later"

"Okay" you sighed as you hung up the phone. You thought about how exactly you could make this work, because you really wanted to make it work, but the schedule was packed; you couldn't see a time for you all to get together. You texted her when you were in L.A. and told her that you had some free time over the weekend if she was okay to meet you there and she was quick to agree. When the three of you finally met up, Jackson excitedly jumped onto the ice to show you his skills and you stood behind the glass with (Y/N) to watch him skate a little before either of you joined him. "Thank you for coming out here," you said and she nudged your shoulder before sitting down on the bench to put on her skates, "I'm serious. I know my schedule's always been a little crazy but I appreciate you at least giving me a chance"

"You know I can't skate right?" she laughed and you realized that she was struggling to tighten her laces

"Hold on, stop" you laughed, kneeling in front of her to help her

"This is a disaster," she scoffed, "I probably should just let you guys skate without me"

"No way that's happening," he smirked, "it's too late for that"

"You sure no one is gonna find us here?"

"I'm sure" you replied, looking up at her before clearing your throat and sitting back on the bench to put your skates on. Her arm grazed yours, eliciting a flush of heat from you

"You have to tell him you're proud of him," she said, laying her head on your shoulder as she watched her son skate slowly across the ice and you looked at her. You kissed the top of her head and just sat there with her for a while

"I will" you whispered finally, forcing her to take her head off your shoulder and her eyes met yours as she smiled

"Good" she whispered, her eyes drifting down to your lips as if she was waiting for you to make a move

"MOM! FREDDIE!" Jackson yelled, taking the two of you out of the moment you were having

"And... saved by the kid" you joked, dropping your head, preparing yourself to get up but not before she laid a sweet kiss on your cheek.

“You know, my dad taught me and my brothers how to skate and how to play hockey,” Freddie explained to Jackson as he helped you up from where you fell, “it’s a family tradition”

“It is?” Jackson’s little voice asked, leading you and Freddie to smile

“It is!” he replied

“So why are you teaching me? Where’s your family?” you dropped your head in defeat

“Uh, well..” Freddie stammered, looking at you briefly before turning his attention back to the boy

“Baby, why don’t you skate ahead. Fred’s just gonna keep me from falling but we’ll be right behind you” you said softly while you continued to grip onto Freddie’s arm so you didn’t fall

“I think it’s time to tell him” he laughed

“He’s gonna hate me” you admitted, revealing the reason you hadn’t wanted to tell him after all these years

“He’s not gonna hate you. You’re his mom, he loves you” he scoffed, nudging you with his elbow and you had to clutch onto him so you didn’t fall

“Freddie!” you exclaimed with a laugh, “ugh. I’m gonna die out here, I’m sure of it”

“We don’t have to tell him here, we could go out for lunch or ice cream. Go to the malt shop at the beach, anything. I just think we should tell him”

“What happens when we tell him? What if it never.. what if it just always sucks after that?”

“I’ll be there with you. Every step of the way. I promise, I won’t leave again”

“You can’t promise that. Your career pulls you everywhere...”

“But I won’t ever leave you. You can come with me, I would love nothing more, actually” he stopped and turned to you, holding onto your arms. “Live with me, travel with me. Toronto isn’t by the Pacific Ocean and it’s not always sunny but it’s a great place to be”

“I don’t know... we’d have to talk to his teachers and make sure we find a school, a good school, where he could start at the beginning. You know, not like in the middle of the year...”

“We can make that happen” he tried

“What about his friends?”

“We’ll make sure they all keep in touch. (Y/N), I want this to work. I want to be part of his life and I’ve always wanted to be with you. You know that, right?” your eyes danced between his as you prepared to answer him before you were interrupted by Jackson calling you

“We’re coming!” you called back and let Freddie pull you toward him, letting you go when Jackson fell onto his knees

“Alright it’s okay buddy,” Freddie cooed as you slowly drifted toward them, “you hurt?”

“No,” he said proudly, “but I fell...”

“Yeah you did,” Freddie continued, “but that’s okay. Sometimes you fall but you got back up, that’s the important thing” you smiled as you heard the two boys talking, feeling a sudden rush of love you had long since forgotten. “Wanna take a break and get some food?”

“YEAH!”

“Mom?” Fred asked, outstretching his hand to you

“I’ll do anything to get off this ice” you laughed. The three of you made your way to a retro-style Diner, complete with red vinyl booths, and waited to order some food; all the while, Jackson was glaring at Freddie, “Jackson!” you scolded, “it’s not polite to stare like that”

“Why don’t you take your hat off? Is it like permently glued to your head?” he asked Freddie, tripping up on the word he’d heard you say on occasion, earning a scoff from you and a laugh from Freddie

“No, it’s not glued to my head” Freddie replied

“So you should take it off. Manners”

“You’re right” he added with a smile

“He’s right” you sighed, anticipating his reaction when he saw Freddie’s hair for the first time. As you expected, Jackson gasped when Freddie took off his hat, as if seeing another person with red hair was this miraculous thing — though you always thought there was more blonde than red to his shade.

“Your hair is like mine” he smiled and all you could do was wait. How do I tell him? you thought to yourself, stealing glances from Freddie

“You’ve got your moms hair”

“She always said that my hair was hers and my dads put in a blender” he laughed

“I did say that, didn’t I?” you chuckled

“Mom, is Freddie my dad?” he asked, the words hanging in the air as you tried to catch your breath

“Uhm,” you started, clearing your throat as you watched Jackson keep his head down and eyes on the table, “what makes you say that, sweetie?”

“Is he?” he repeated

"Well, buddy," Freddie started, looking at you before you nodded so he knew he could continue, "yeah. Yeah, I'm your dad..." You both waited for him to react but he just sat there in silence, still not raising his head to meet your eyes

"Sweetheart?" you whispered, kneeling in front of him, "Jackson, can you look at me?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked quietly

"She was just trying to protect you, Jackson" Freddie added, causing Jackson to quickly look up at him

"You didn't know about me?" he asked again and you were finally able to see the tears roll down his sweet little cheeks

"I--"

"Why did you keep me from my daddy?!" Jackson yelled

"Sweetheart, please, calm down" you tried but it was no use

"NO!" he stepped back and kicking his chair in frustration, "everyone else gets a dad why not me?!"

"Jackson!" Freddie tried when he noticed you had practically crumpled in your chair

"NO!" Jackson repeated as he ran out of the diner

"I'm so sorry everyone..." Freddie apologized to the group before you made your way outside

"Jackson..." you whispered when you found him sitting on a bench a few feet from the diner

"Go away" he cried

"Baby, I know you're mad," you started, sitting down beside him before he moved away from you, "I loved Freddie, your dad, very much and he loved me the same. We met and, immediately, we clicked -- I always wanted to be around him, I missed him when he was gone and I didn't want him to ever leave when he got back. When he left, I was broken. Nothing really made sense anymore and I couldn't forgive him for leaving me like that. But then you came along and you became the most important thing in my life; you really changed everything" you smiled as he nestled into your side. "You deserve to have a dad, you deserve to know your dad, you're so much like him it's crazy" you chuckled before resting your cheek on Jackson's head. "Freddie's life is complicated. It's very busy but it's also very public; you don't have as much freedom to just... be a kid like you do with just me"

"Is that why you didn't tell him?"

"Sort of..." you replied, "I didn't think I'd ever see him again and my heart was so hurt but you are the most important thing in the world to me. I shouldn't have kept him a secret from you, I'm sorry"

"So what now?" he asked

"Well... I wanted to talk to you about something," you stammered, "Freddie and I have been getting close again, I still really love him. That kind of love is hard to forget, you’ll realize that one day, but he really wants to spend more time with you but his life is in Toronto..."

"Yeah?" he said

"Would you want to move there?" you asked, noticing him perk his head up

"All of us would be together?" he asked

"Yes and maybe you'll even get to meet Fred's family. Really get to learn the Andersen family traditions, the right way"

"YES!" he exclaimed before hugging you tightly. "But mom?" he asked

"Hmm?"

"Can we call him dad?" you laughed at his question before nodding in response. You headed back inside to where Freddie was and Jackson jumped into the booth next to him

"Whoa, hey there! So, I guess everything is okay now?" he laughed

"We're gonna move to Toronto to live with you!"

"You are?" he asked, looking at you for confirmation

"Not right away," you corrected, "we have some stuff to sort out first but yes, eventually we'll be there with you. As a family" Freddie smiled in return at the idea of the three of you being a family

“Perfect” he said and you couldn’t help yourself; that happy little grin on his face made it near impossible not to want to kiss him, so you leaned over your son and pressed your lips to his before your son tried to pushed the two of you apart

“EW MOM, DAD, DON’T BE SO GROSS!” he whined and you smiled against Freddie’s lips

“Dad?” he whispered and you could see the pride cover his face

“Dad” you whispered back

“I like the sound of that” he smiled, sitting back in the booth and bringing Jackson into his lap and for the first time in a long time, you could picture your life with Freddie and Jackson.

2 Years Later

“MY BABY BOY!” Charlotte greeted Jackson outside of the large, stone castle that you were to be marrying Freddie in a few hours

“GRAMMA C!” he exclaimed, running to her so she could pick him up

“Hey, Charlotte” you smiled, hugging her when she put down your son

“Hi, sweetheart,” she said in your ear, “how are you feeling? You ready?”

“Yeah..” you smiled to yourself, “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life. Nothing has ever felt so right”

“Why aren’t you upstairs?” she asked and you laughed

“Jackson kept running around the castle and I didn’t want him to break anything so I told him that you were on your way and we should head out front to meet you,” you admitted, “so we came out here...”

“It’s okay to be nervous,” she said, directing you back through the large wooden doors, “but he loves you and you love him and you’ve been waiting for this for a very long time. So have we” she laughed, guiding you back inside so you could get ready; draping your beautiful A-line Chiffon dress with a long train and a plunging neckline with a crystal encrusted v-neck back and buttons trailing your lower spine. You couldn’t help but spinning around to test the move-ability of the dress when Valdemar walked through the door

“Oh sorry,” he stumbled nervously, “I didn’t mean to interrupt, I’ll ju--”

“Valdemar, it’s alright,” you laughed, “come on in. I was just testing the dress”

“You look beautiful” he cooed

“Thank you” you replied

“I was told to bring you this,” he said as he handed you an envelope, “it’s from Freddie” you chuckled when you finally looked at the envelope, seeing your soon-to-be husband’s handwriting

“Thank you, Valdemar. Wait!” you said, stopping him before he left, “I have something for him to” you handed him your note and gave him a kiss on the cheek before he walked out of the room; leaving you in a separate part of the suite than your bridesmaids. As you read his note, all you could think was, I should’ve read this before I got my makeup done

“Ready?” a voice asked you from across the room and you took a deep breath, turning to find Amalie standing by the door

“I’m ready.” As you walked down the aisle, you noticed a smile glow brightly on his face and the same one was reciprocated on yours

“We come now to the words Freddie and (Y/N) want to hear the most today,” the Officiant started, “the words that take them across the threshold from being engaged to being married. A marriage, as most of us understand it, is a voluntary and full commitment. It is made in the deepest sense to the exclusion of all others, and it is entered into with the desire and hope that it will last for life. Before you declare your vows to one another, I want to hear you confirm that it is indeed your intention to be married today. Frederik, do you come here freely and without reservation to give yourself to (Y/N) in marriage? If so, answer ‘I do.’”

“I do” Freddie smiled and the Officiant continued

“(Y/N), do you come here freely and without reservation to give yourself to Frederik in marriage? If so, answer ‘I do.’”

“I do” you whispered back with a smile

“Frederik and (Y/N), having heard that it is your intention to be married to each other, I now ask you to declare your marriage vows. Please face each other and hold hands,” the Officiant directed, “Frederik, please repeat after me… I, Frederik, take you, (Y/N) to be my wife”

“I, Frederik, take you, (Y/N) to be my wife” he repeated

“I will share my life with yours and build our dreams together” the Officiant continued

“I will share my life with yours and build our dreams together”

“Support you through times of trouble and rejoice with you in times of happiness”

“I promise to give you respect, love and loyalty”

“This commitment is made in love, kept in faith, lived in hope and made new every day of our lives“

“This commitment is made in love, kept in faith, lived in hope, and made new every day of our lives.” It was then your turn to repeat the same vows and then continued with the ring exchange until it was finally time to announce your new relationship

“I am pleased to present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Andersen!” you smiled before you opened your mouth in surprise and turning to Freddie

“We’re married!” you replied

“We are” he returned as the two of you made your way back down the aisle into the castle. The reception was everything you didn’t know you wanted and Freddie got all of his Danish traditions that the two of you had discussed during all the months of planning and it was perfect. You danced all night, you drank too much and sang call and response songs with the guests, you spent most of the night in a pair of fuzzy slippers that Freddie surprised you with and you made sure to get as many pictures with everyone as possible; but the most important thing to you was that Jackson and Freddie were by your side

“My two beautiful boys. My lovely men. I love you both so much. SO MUCH!” you drunkenly slurred as you kissed each of their cheeks

“I think it’s time you get some water” Freddie smirked

“That sounds good”

“Mom?” Jackson asked as Freddie made his way to the bar to grab you a glass

“Yeah?” you asked, moving his soft hair behind his ear

“What happens now?”

“You really like that question, don’t you?” you laughed, just as Freddie returned with an almost overflowing glass of water

“Here you go, Elske” he said and kissed your forehead before taking his seat next to you

“Thank you, husband” you cooed, leaning in for a kiss

“You’re welcome, wife” he smiled before kissing you softly

“Baby, to answer your question,” you turned your attention back to Jackson, “what happens now is that we start our life together. As our own little unit, our little family. We’ll go on adventures, you’ll go to more games and we’ll all celebrate the wins together and cope with the losses together. It doesn’t matter because we’ll all be together”

“Does that sound good?” Freddie asked and Jackson nodded. You directed them out onto the dance floor for one final dance before Charlotte and Ernst had agreed to take Jackson upstairs so he could get some sleep. Guests started to make their way to you to say goodbye and, before long, it was just you and Freddie left alone in the ballroom

“Hey,” you whispered as his fingers traced along your thigh, “wanna dance?”

“Yeah” he whispered back before bringing your face to his, kissing you slowly but intensely. You tucked yourself close to his body, letting his heartbeat guide your movements before you were left alone in silence, not realizing everyone had cleared out. “Can you believe that we get to spend the night in a castle?”

“Can you believe we’re married?” you giggled, your head still resting on his chest

“I can,” he admitted with a laughed, “I just can’t believe it took us this long”

“Good things come to those who wait” you teased

“Yes they do”

“I love you, husband”

“I love you, too, wife.”

#Frederik Andersen #Freddie Andersen #Freddie Andersen imagine #Frederik Andersen imagine #Frederik Andersen fic #Frederik Andersen request #Freddie Andersen fic #Freddie Andersen request #Freddie Andersen fluff #Frederik Andersen fluff #hockey #tml #nhl #masterlist #the other masterlist

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starryseung · 4 years ago

Text

𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒚 𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒔 90'𝒔 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 [ 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒏𝒂𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 ]

𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒋𝒊𝒔𝒖𝒏��

I would travel thousands of miles just to be with you.

𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈

you and han might’ve met at school, through mutual friends

then of course the classic ‘mutual pining without you two realizing you’re falling for each other’ game until one of your friends point it out

and then on days he doesn’t have a busy schedule, he’ll walk you home from school

slowly it’ll be a habit, and you’ll grow closer and closer

sometimes unconsciously he’ll intertwine your fingers with his

sometimes when it’s raining / freezing cold he’ll give you his jacket

“no ji, you’ll freeze to death,”

“at least i’ll freeze to death for you,”

*winks*

𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔

dates with jisung aren’t fixed at one spot

he loves showing you different places he discovered throughout the weekend

usually its the townside, because he loves watching nature and sunsets

also loves taking you through the woods (but only during broad daylight because he still hasn’t recovered from that werewolf story his friend told him in grade 2)

once you’ve reached your destination, he’ll laugh and jump up and down, kissing your hand and face a thousand times

but the journey towards the destination is literal hell

“y/n, i know men are supposed to carry women, but i’m pretty lightweight, and my legs might snap any moment now,”

“y/nnnn please gimme a piggy back ride up the hill i might faint”

“wow y/n i’m offended i don’t think you deserve all these awesome places i take you to,”

and when you glare at him, he’s a 180 flip, because you might just break his bones for choosing such a faraway location in the first place

“i-i mean you don’t deserve them because you’re so much prettier than them!”

𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔

okay see kisses with jisung are always quick and short because even if you’ve shared these moments a hundred times, each of them still feels like the first one

but sometimes he takes his time, kissing your forehead, then your nose, then your cheeks, then skips your lips and moves down to your chin

but when you pout / whine he’ll chuckle softly and come back up to kiss you

so yeah kissing with jisung is very giggly and soft all the time

but otherwise, he’d never notice how soft and bubbly his cheeks are if it weren’t for you

you’re always kissing and pinching his cheeks (like you should!!)

and he won’t act like he doesn’t like it; he’ll laugh it off or reciprocate your love because he feels very loved around you and wouldn’t change it for the world or better.

thank you, y/n

𝒍𝒆𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒙

I want to grow old with you.

𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈

you first meet him at the café he works!

initially it wouldn’t be much, just you hurriedly ordering your coffee and leaving

but then you’ll notice the small hearts he scribbles after your name on the cup, sometimes even going as far to write a lil “you’ll do great!” or “you look really sweet today”

so one day you decide to go to his café with your friend

and while leaving you slip in your number to him, but turns out this ball of sunshine is trying to slip in his number to you; so you have a new thing to laugh about

so yeah you start hanging out after his shifts, sometimes you wait for him to close the café for the day

“y/n you know you don’t have to wait for me tonight, it’ll get pretty late,”

“no lixie, i’d rather go home late with you than go home alone,”

but he knows you only wait for him so that you can eat all the donuts and cupcakes with him after his shift ends

but its a win-win for both of you, so he doesn’t mind :D

𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔

so he knows it’s like top 10 anime betrayals to his workplace, but he loves taking you to pet cafés

one, because he loves animals

two, because you love animals

three, because he loves you playing around with these animals

“awh felix can we steal this one? it’s so cute,”

and he’s just laughing because you’re so c u t e

“i don’t think that’s allowed, y/n,”

but not gonna lie i bet he has tried sneaking out a dog for you, but he got caught by one of the workers there

“o-oh! when d-did this little guy fit into my j-jacket pocket!”

super adorable uwu

calls you angel and princess, while you’re calling him sunshine all the time

loves decorating your hair with flowers

oh! he loves braiding your hair too

like when you’re over at his place he’s always experimenting with your hair; doing little salon roleplays with you and prettying your hair

but sometimes when he’s tired from work he’ll let you braid his hair

also loves having matching outfits

before dating him you thought matching couple outfits were cliché and stupid, but after dating him, you realize how different they are

dating felix also means your fashion sense improves a lot👀

𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔

felix, like hyunjin, has very kissable lips

he probably tastes like vanilla,plus he’s a great kisser

you’re wondering where he learnt all that from

making out with felix happens every other day, but its usually in bed with him on top of you while you guys are watching some movie / playing video games

also he’ll probably end up sleeping like that as you two slowly get tired

his face on your chest / on your shoulders and hands tight around your waist

this boy really loves you okay you better not make him sad >:(

𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒎𝒊𝒏

You complete me.

𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈

at! the!! library!!!

you’re trying to pick a book from the second-to-top shelf, but since the universe decided to give you the most inconvenient height possible, here you are, contemplating if you should just drop the whole shelf down to get that book

but thankfully, seungmin is to the rescue!

he’ll smile and wordlessly take the book and hand it down to you

everyday its the same story; there’s a book that you really like, but its too far for you, but slowly you don’t mind because somehow seungmin is always there around at the same time to take that book for you

one day he decides to take initiative, but realizes he’s a coward and can’t do shit

so he’s over the moon when you come and sit next to him

“hey, i’m sorry for the trouble, but uhh i need some help with this assignment…”

and of course he’s there to help you! he’ll clarify where you need him to and explain you better than ever

slowly interactions increase and before you know it, you’re lying on your stomach on his bed with your legs dangling in the air as you two have your noses in a book

you learn more and more about each other, ultimately to the point where you know better about each other than about yourselves

𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔

initially when you two have just started dating, there would be study dates at the café down your block

but later you two take each other out on weekends, sometimes to the movies, sometimes to the town fair.

ahh but when dates are at the fair… >:)

let’s assume seungmin doesn’t have good experiences with rides

so naturally you will… take him to the rides only mwahaha

“y/n do you not love me? why are you doing this,”

you’re just evil laughing, you sadist

dates for seung-y/n are just sleepovers at each others house

he’s laughing like crazy when you’re messing shit up

“seungmin can you help me i’m stuck in this shirt,”

seungmin: proceeds to laugh for the next ten minutes at your contortionist-self

now unlike changbin, seungmin will not show you off to his friends

he doesn’t like the concept of ‘claiming you’, but he doesn’t like sharing you either.

“hey, isn’t that too revealing for a party?”

“seungmin? its a knee length skirt??”

𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔

kisses = pecks on the lips / cheeks

you’re simply cooking / studying and he’ll wrap his hands around your waist from behind and rest his head on your shoulder

“what is my y/n doinggg?”

and he’ll kiss your cheek

sometimes leans forward to kiss you on your lips too

but in general kisses are soft

he’ll have a hand on your stomach, one on the back of your neck to rub smooth comforting circles

to be honest your relationship is more like best friends because you’re just always there for each other and can talk about the most stupidest things openly

you: “you know i’ve heard stars are all our forefathers looking down at us,”

seung: “really? i though they were just balls of gas though,”

you: “nah, i don’t think that’s true,”

𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒋𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏

I love everything there is to love about you.

𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈

he moved in the same neighbourhood as yours, and since he was the only person around your age (and the only normal one your age), you had to be friends with him

you two meet up every evening at the neighbourhood park, and he doesn’t really mind your company, especially when you bring you little brother with you

“awh, is that your little brother? he’s so cute!”

“yeah, he is; thanks!”

“he looks nothing like you!”

he’s initially very shy to talk to you

but when he realizes how cool your personality is (and how pretty you are🤭)

he’s knocking at your door everyday to take you and your little brother to the park

he always buys you ice cream though, and somehow it’s always the flavour you like

“oh thanks jeo— ah i don’t like this flavour” :(

“don’t worry y/n! i’ll get you another one!”

𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔

homeboi is very shy

the fact that he’s dating the perfect person for him (!!!) is enough for butterflies and grasshoppers and bees and dinosaurs to fly in his stomach

he gets really fidgety, but he feels a little nervous thinking about the fact that most of the ‘firsts’ in your relationship are celebrated by you; first ‘kiss’ (to which he held your hand home, then went to his house to dolphin scream into his pillows), first ‘date’ (in which you took him out to the beach to watch the sunset and have snacks) and first ‘one month’ (where you took him out to an expensive restaurant, even when he refused a couple billion times)

phew that was a long point

so he decided to celebrate your first ‘out-of-town trip’, where he drove you all the way to a cherry blossom forest

he also took a thousand pictures of you, coming back home to print one of them and safely put it in his wallet

he feels every small moment spent with you so endearing, he finds himself smiling randomly

𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔

as previously mentioned, your first kiss was initiated by you; you two were walking home from the neighbourhood park like always, and jeongin had carried your brother in his arms, playing with him

you couldn’t stop thinking about how your first kiss would be, and so when he dropped you off to your house, you simply had to kiss him

he puts your brother down, waving him goodbye, and just when he’s about to say his farewells to you, you instantly peck his lips, after which both your eyes were wide is plates

“i-i’m sorry i should've—”

“ah no it’s okay, uh,” he scratches his neck, biting his lip to control his smile

and you simply chuckle at his cuteness, muttering a small ‘bye’ and ‘love you’ before going into your house

and the way his face changes once he’s out of your sight is just— *chef’s kiss*

he’s running home, and when his brothers ask him what happened, he’s just ignoring them and goes to his room to scream and laugh his heart out into the sheets

his family thinks he’s insane by now, but of course! he’s in love!

plus that with the cutest person in the whole world!

a/n; and it’s finally up! it didn’t take me long to write this because the ideas just came flooding in sdfkhsdjk but thank you so much for your feedback for hyung line! also!!! this is the only two fics which do not have a read more cut because I’m using a mobile device for posting these,, sorry🙈

note; credits to @neocult-icons @chnsbbg @district9edits @skzicons for the pictures!!

taglist; @hyukminie @cherryeol04 @lomlminho @bruh-changbin @yooniversalstudios @ann0325441904 @yourdaddychan @mahalau (message me if you want to be added!)

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