#seriously can we get these eggs a break. a holiday even. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spencersawkward · 4 years

Note

i’m so happy ur on tumblr now!! i love between the lines so much, could you write a blurb or one shot about mgg and a younger co-star, but like very spicy if possible 🙃, idk i just love that scenario🥵.

i was literally about to write "omg i love this concept too!" and then i was like “well no fucking shit, sophi.” lol. YES i can 10/10 write you a one-shot with a similar scenario! also thank you for your kind words that was the first fic i ever wrote so it’s very near and dear to my heart!

summary: reader goes to a holiday party with her co-stars and best friend, Matthew... but all the fun happens in the dressing room.

content warnings: this one is quite dirty but i’m also proud of it lol. unprotected penetrative sex, oral (female receiving), degradation, use of the term “little girl,” creampie, age gap. dirty talk?

pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew

word count: 4.7k

masterlist

"no."

"what do you mean, 'no’?” Matthew laughs, looking between me and the mirror.

"I look like the Ghost of Christmas Past." I lift up the soft white tulle of the dress, watching it float back down to settle over my skin. he's got his eyebrows raised and there's a smirk on his lips like he's holding back a laugh. I resist the urge to reach around and hit him.

"would you rather wear that?" he points to the punch-stained gown that's now laying pathetically over the back of the vanity chair. I genuinely ponder the idea for a moment.

"honestly, the crime scene vibes might work well with the theme of our show."

"seriously, it's not bad, Y/N!" he insists, drawing my attention back to the mirror.

"you're just saying that because you're the one who spilled on me and you don't want people making fun of how clumsy you are." I cross my arms over my chest. he gives me a dubious expression in our reflection on the wall.

"do I seem like I care about that?" he challenges.

"I--" the truth is that no, Matthew is not the type. Matthew is the kind of person to flounder in front of anyone and proceed to crack a joke about himself. he's humble. but I kind of like when we talk like this, our back and forth.

after a year of working together on the same show, he and I have grown incredibly close. I'm friends with all my co-stars, but he and I just have the natural friendship chemistry that makes me want to spend all my time with him. when we're not on set, we're hanging out on his couch or ordering dinner or driving out of town to check out wacky sites around California. we just have fun. pure, clean, honest fun.

of course, in my dreams it isn't pure or honest. frankly, there's a lot of sordid scandal to what goes on in my head when he accidentally touches my arm or brushes his fingers over mine. the amount of times I have gone to cast parties trying to work up the nerve to kiss him are embarrassing. he's older and more experienced and, obviously, he has no interest in me.

but that doesn't matter.

the only reason I'm standing in a dressing room alone with him is because he knew someone on the crew who could hook me up with a replacement for the night. he left while I slipped out of the old one and came back in only after knocking and checking, like, twice to make sure I was decent. he's so respectful that it's almost like he's afraid of making me think the wrong thing-- which makes me feel absolutely stupid for my almost schoolgirl crush.

"come on, you look great. let's go enjoy the party."

"was this a dress one of the victims was wearing?" I ask with a laugh.

"probably. not like we carry a lot of gowns on set." he grabs my hand, makes my heart leap into my throat. he only does it to urge me along, but it still feels intimate as I follow him out of the room, tossing one more evaluative glance at myself in the mirror. I seem terrified.

we continue to do our rounds at the party, Matthew filling my glass of eggnog even though I hate it. I wince and take a sip while we talk to some of our co-stars.

"what's wrong with you?" Shemar chuckles at my expression.

"lost a bet."

"with whom?" he glances between Matthew and me, knowing damn well already from the mischievous grin on the former's face.

"I told you not to take it." Matthew says over the rim of his glass.

"if you mention it one more time, I'm gonna throw up eggnog all over your outfit." I threaten him, but we're both smiling. Shemar frowns.

"what was the bet?"

"you know David-- the guy I was telling you about?" I reply quickly, determined to give my side of the story. Shemar nods; I told him last week when David oh-so-chivalrously danced up on me at a club and asked me out. usually in those situations, guys just want a one-night stand, so I was impressed and agreed. "anyway, Matthew said if it turned out that he was a weirdo, he would get to pick my drinks for the next week whenever we go out."

"your drinks? that's specific."

"she's so picky!" Matthew teases me.

"leave me alone, you dick!" I elbow him and he dodges just in time.

"tell him why he was a weirdo." he grins. the glare I give could kill. but Shemar is waiting expectantly for me to share the information, so I sigh and set my jaw before telling the truth.

"he collects antique dental tools."

"what?" Shemar laughs disbelievingly. I throw my hands up.

"I don't fucking know. we went back to his apartment and he showed me his whole collection."

"you're attracted to weird people, Y/N." Matthew says. I raise my eyebrows and almost say something that dooms me. I hold my tongue, however, and turn back to Shemar with a reserved smile.

"anyway, how are you?"

...

the cast holiday party is actually pretty fun. I tend to leave these functions early in favor of my couch and some ice cream, but something about the bright colors and the smell of wintergreen in the air makes me want to linger in the studio.

I stuff myself with sugar cookies and Matthew mercifully lets me switch from eggnog to Sprite. normally, I'd drink at such an occasion, but I'm a messy drunk and this is one of my first real jobs as an actress. I don't want to even come close to jeopardizing that by breaking some expensive equipment or something.

my throat gets a little sore from all the talking I do-- Paget and I spend about half an hour horribly belting out Christmas carols at the baby grand piano they brought in. they originally had someone hired to play it, but the guy disappeared about an hour ago.

by the time it hits around ten pm, my limbs are tired. I thought people would be leaving (a lot of them have families), but the party is still very much raging when I start to wind down. maybe it's because I'm sober.

"hey." Matthew sidles up next to me as I sit at the piano bench with a slice of lime in my mouth. I like to suck the juice out of them; sour things are my favorite.

"hi." I pluck the fruit out and drop it back into my soda. he sits next to me, his cologne filling my senses with the kind of sensual warmth that it shouldn't be making me feel. he always smells so good.

"ladylike." he gestures to the movement.

"is that why you call me 'princess?'" I smirk, half-joking.

"once-- I called you that once!" he defends. it's not a lie. he used the nickname when he was mocking me for my somewhat selective food preferences. it was sarcastic, but I wish it wasn't. something about the way he said it in the moment made me blush.

"is there a reason you've come to grate my nerves?" I raise an eyebrow and he turns away from me as he bites back a smile. I pout. "what?"

"you're talking like a Jane Austen novel."

"what's wrong with Jane Austen?" I defend, skin heating up. his proximity is doing things to me that it shouldn't.

"nothing," he glances at me before moving his gaze to the ivory keys. "do you play?"

"elementary level, sure." I giggle. he runs his fingers over them, never pressing down hard enough to release a sound. I'm entranced by the delicate nature of his actions, the veins and the curve of his fingertips, the sheer width of his hand. I think about it too much for it to be healthy.

"show me." it's a direct order, one that doesn't feel directive but still ends with me placing both hands on the piano and wracking my brain for something to play. I decide on a piece that Paget and I were doing earlier, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."

I've never been quite good at piano, and the nearness of his body is like an anvil on my fingers, but I play anyway. and it feels good. his eyes are on me, drawn to my tracings over the instrument as they press and lift and glide.

"sing." I tell him.

"no!" he protests. I don't stop playing, only now getting into the thick of the tune.

"oh, come on. just the chorus..." I plead, turning my head to beg. "please?"

I bat my lashes playfully, fully intending it as a joke, but Matthew softens a bit. for a fraction of a second, I think he looks at my mouth. he turns his head back to the piano and lets out a quiet "here we are as in olden days... happy golden days of yore..."

"there you go!" I egg him on, and he starts to get more into it. his voice is absolutely off-key; he's no singer, and somehow that makes him even more endearing to me.

Matthew has always been this flawless, intimidating figure in my mind. even when we first met, I was certain that he was hiding something because everything else about him is so... perfect. he's funny, sweet, genuinely kind, handsomer than hell. it didn't make sense. but knowing that he can't carry a tune makes me feel a bit better. it humanizes his beauty.

while he sings, I can't help looking at him. his side profile is even more enchanting; the curve of his features meeting a smooth elegance in his jaw and cheek, especially when his mouth is open. he catches me smiling at him and returns it with his own gleeful face, now totally fine with singing like a fool in front of everyone. nobody is even really looking at us-- they're several drinks in and lost in their own universe of drunken laughter.

there's something kind of magical about that, I think. we're sober. when the song draws to a close, I lift my fingers off the keys and into my lap.

"you're quite the Pavarotti." I joke.

"the who?" he furrows his brow with a smile.

"he's a famous opera singer."

"oh," he laughs, "thanks, Mozart."

I twist my face up as I hide my smile. this is also part of the reason I could never tell Matthew how I feel; we just fit together too well. he almost always gets my references and I understand his, even though there's an age gap between us. he's an old soul with a youthful heart.

"how's your night going?" I ask him softly, changing the subject. he sets his hands on his lap, absent-mindedly toying with his fingers. it's not a nervous tendency at all. he does it whenever we're on set.

"as of right now? pretty damn good." he replies with a smile. I get warm again at the implication. he doesn't mean it like that, but god, do I wish he did.

"very smooth." I compliment appreciatively.

"how about you?"

"it was kind of boring, but then this rando sat next to me and started singing Christmas songs and it got a little better." I say flatly, grabbing my glass off the top of the piano and running my fingertip over the rim. he drops his head in a giggle.

"you're something else."

"insult?" I clarify.

"definitely a compliment."

"I like compliments."

"well, I wasn't lying before. you look really beautiful in that dress."

"the murder dress?" I glance down at it to hide the absolute wideness of my eyes at his words. he's completely flustering me and I'm starting to find it hard to breathe. he said I look beautiful. not "pretty," not "great"-- beautiful.

"yes, the murder dress." he gets a little pink in his cheeks, and that makes me want to explode on the spot.

"well, say goodbye to it because I'm gonna go change back into my plebeian clothes," I stand from the piano bench. "it's past my bedtime."

Matthew looks up at me with an unreadable expression and I feel my heart flutter in my chest. I hate leaving him. "do you wanna come with me? like-- walk with me?"

"sure." he nods, stands, and follows behind. I can feel his presence like a delightful reminder of the emotions surging in my stomach. we wind through the crowd of party-goers until we end up back in the dressing room, away from the party. it's quiet.

Matthew walks in with me, carrying our drinks in his hand, and he's about to stroll back out so I can change when I touch his arm. the door shuts automatically behind him.

"wait," I swallow quickly. "can you unzip me?"

"oh." Matthew looks at me, then at the glasses in his arms, then at the vanity. he sets them down and comes back quickly, his frame behind me while his fingertips locate the little piece at the top of my gown. my breath hitches in my throat when he brushes over my spine by accident, one nail dragging accidentally against my skin as the fabric slowly gives way. I don't know if he hears it-- it's nearly imperceptible-- but he definitely hesitates once he reaches the place where my back starts to curve into my ass. he pauses, doesn't breathe until he reaches the end of the zipper.

"there you go." he mutters. his voice is a little more hoarse than usual, and he clears his throat as he steps away. I know he's going to back out. he's going to back out of the room and wait for me to slip into nothing and I know, somehow, that he's going to be thinking about how I look in here with my clothes off. he's going to wish he stayed.

and I'm going to wish he'd done more than stayed.

before I can lose my nerve and allow the moment to be swallowed up by practicality, I shrug the straps of the dress down my shoulders and let gravity take over. it drops to the floor, leaving me in only my bra and panties. I can sense him behind me; he's silent for a moment.

"Matthew." I say, the name sitting on my tongue like a sugar cube. perfectly formed, slowly dissolving.

"y-yeah?" he stutters for the first time since I've met him.

"are you looking at my ass right now?" I ask, still turned around. the way he's frozen in place tells me that I'm right.

"yeah." he admits.

"you can touch it, if you want." I murmur softly. part of me doesn't think this is real, the way each sentence leaves my throat like it's been pre-planned. truly, I don't understand how my brain is moving so quickly.

"are you... sure?" he's hesitant, but even I can taste the longing.

"yes."

his hand smooths over my butt, softly at first like he's still not believing his own eyes, before moving back to grab it. he squeezes the flesh, and a low exhale from him tells me that he's excited.

"do you want more?" my voice barely carries. my head is almost foggy from how good it is to have his grip on my body, even in such a simple way. I can feel myself getting wet.

"how much more?" his lips brush over my shoulder and I get goosebumps. my mouth opens and closes for a moment, searching for the right words.

"however much you want."

it's flint and steel, the way he sparks. the air literally leaves my lungs when Matthew grabs my hips and spins me around to face him. my lips part as I peer up at him, at the lust that now darkens those hazel eyes and the way he holds mine. his touch is certain. he pulls our bodies together, tilts my chin up to kiss me.

it's passionate, strong, the kind of kiss that causes me to lean back a bit just to receive the full force of his desire. but I return the affection easily, moaning into his mouth. I've never been held the way that Matthew holds me. like I'm made of sugar glass, like he wants desperately to feel the soft give of my skin and make a home of me.

the heat between our bodies is almost overwhelming, and I sigh when he subtly pushes our hips together. his erection is against my stomach.

"fuck." I mutter when I pull away for air. Matthew doesn't stop his perfect movements, though, tugging my earlobe between his teeth and starting to leave love bites up my skin and over my shoulder. he chuckles against my throat. I shiver.

"you alright, little girl?" he asks.

"just--" I let out a moan at the sensation of his fingers exploring my bare waist. he reaches behind me to unclasp my bra. "just surprised."

"about?" he slides the straps down my shoulders and looks me in the eye. the lack of physical contact makes me whine.

"that you want me."

"how is that surprising?" he smiles, using one index finger to guide me to look at him.

"you don't seem like it."

Matthew raises his eyebrows as if I'm a crazy person. truly dumbstruck. "what?"

"you-- well, I don't know." I frown, but Matthew takes my hand and moves it over his torso until my palm is resting over the considerable bulge in his pants.

"is this enough proof?"

I struggle for words, sputtering. "yeah-- yeah, it is."

he bucks into my hand a little and I bite my lip, eyes moving up to meet his. something passes between us that I don't fully understand, but feel in my bones. I have never, in my life, wanted someone to fuck me as much as I want Matthew to fuck me right now. my jaw clenches.

"I need you." I tell him like this is the most relevant piece of information that will ever pass between us. he smirks.

"yeah?"

"mhmm."

"then lean against the wall and let me give you what you deserve." he orders. for a second, I try to think through what he means. then I look behind me at the open space and back up, him following me closely. his hands move up to cup my breasts, kneading and tweaking my nipples as he kisses my lips. the coolness against my back causes me to gasp, and he swallows the sound with his tongue before moving down my body.

he's torturously slow, taking one of my nipples into his mouth while he shrugs off his suit jacket. he switches to my other peak, one hand splayed over my stomach, and then proceeds southward with his lips. his kisses are delicate, open-mouthed, as they find their way to the waistband of my panties.

he hooks his fingers in them and looks up at me.

"can I eat you out, baby?" he asks. I bite my lip.

"please." like a beg.

"oh, you're polite tonight." he smirks, tugging the garment down my legs and discarding it somewhere in the room. I don't respond, and he doesn't seem to need me to, because he pushes one leg up for better access to my pussy. "let's see if it lasts."

my back curves off of the wall involuntarily when he holds the flat of his tongue against my clit suddenly, trying to roll my hips against his face. my fingers tangle in his hair, one leg resting over his shoulder.

he starts to flick at my clit. I lose grasp of my own language.

"Matthew, that feels so good, I--"

he attaches himself to my bundle of nerves, seemingly turned on by the sounds I'm making for him. he groans as he laps at the wetness between my legs, dipping into my folds and sucking the soul out of me. I whine and use his curls as leverage to gain more friction. he peers up at me.

"needy little girl." he mumbles against my pussy. I shove him back into me.

"make me cum, then." I beg. I can practically feel the devilish smirk on his face as he devours me like he'll never get enough. every twist and lick of his tongue is sending me to new places. I'm panting, chest heaving, while I grab my own tits and buck into his mouth.

he moans. my orgasm hits me like a wave, causing me to nearly thrash with pleasure as I cry out.

"Matthew, keep going, fuck yes!" I feel tears prick the back of my eyes, the culmination almost too much to bear as we hold contact. he stares into my fucking soul as he eats me out, and I want to stay like this forever. it's hard to support myself with my legs going weak, but I love it. the sensations are otherworldly. it's only when I'm about to collapse that I push his face away from me.

"I love your pussy." he tells me, licking his lips as he sets my legs down. I grin and let my head fall back against the wall.

"thanks."

"come here, princess." he takes hold of my hips and guides me over to the mirror, turning me so that he's standing behind my frame. the pet name causes me to smile.

"what?" I reference our reflection. he stares at me, reaching around to squeeze my tits.

"I wanna fuck you in the mirror." such a vulgar thing, said so beautifully. he kisses my cheek. "if that's okay with you."

"I don't care what position we do as long as you're fucking me." I breathe honestly. he chuckles and draws me towards him so his clothed boner is against my ass. I reach behind and work the button on his pants. he undoes the ones on his shirt. we're silent, him watching my naked body move like he's trying to memorize every detail.

when he's finally stripped, he lets me stroke his cock for a couple moments before pushing my upper back forward so I'm holding onto the sides of the mirror. I see him biting his lip as he lines himself up at my entrance.

"you ready?" he checks. I nod and he smiles at me once. pushing in, the smile melts into a jaw-dropped haze, eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Y/N..."

"it's so big." I try to breathe. he's so deep, I grip the mirror until my knuckles turn white. he's going to snap my body in two with the angle of his cock, filling me easily.

"tight little thing." he grunts as he holds himself inside. I can only watch in shock as I try to adjust to the sheer feeling of him. Matthew runs his hands over my sides, my ass, touching whatever he can. "how's that?"

I start to wiggle my hips and he groans at the feeling of my walls desperately swallowing him up. "Matthew, I need it."

"need what?" he thrusts into me and I have to fight a scream.

"need you."

"fuck... yes." he hisses out, sliding into me. "you're so wet I don't even need to try."

I bite my lip to withhold my sounds and he stares me in the eyes in the mirror as he starts to fuck me harder, building a pace with his hips. he growls a little if he hits certain angles, getting ruthless.

"so many times when I wanted to be inside you, princess..." he trails off. I start to play with my clit with one hand, using the other to stabilize myself with the mirror. the idea turns me on.

"when?"

"whenever you have attitude," he pants. "tonight, in that innocent fucking dress. making me wanna pound you like a little slut."

I make a high-pitched sound at the shudder of pleasure that jolts through my stomach at his words, wanting more. I've never heard him talk this way before.

"Matthew, shit--" I rub myself in circles, caught between watching his face and watching the way his hips slam into mine.

"you're begging to be fucked, you know that?"

"am I?" I smile sweetly in the mirror. we're in our own world, locked in a fantasy that I never want to leave. I can feel him in every corner of my body, sinking beneath my skin. he digs his nails into my ass.

"mhmm." he hums. I can feel the familiar weight in my stomach that indicates how close I'm getting. a knot that screams to be undone by his perfect length. I would do anything for more of this. I can taste everything good in the world on my tongue.

"I'm so close." I whine.

"I can tell," he studies my face in the mirror. "so pretty when you're breaking."

"oh--" I feel my thighs tense and my body pulses, the euphoria almost overwhelming. we move steadily, rhythmically, and he pushes my climax to new levels. "faster." I cry.

Matthew is quick to respond, gripping me closer while he plows into me like he's never going to have my body again. the sound of it is filthy, perfect, a mess. he groans at the sensation of my cunt pulsating around his cock.

"cum for me, princess." he moans, losing himself in the embrace of my core. the foggy stare in his eyes is like drowning in the ocean. I sink below, not caring at all about the consequences of him inside me. fuck working together; I need him. "where should I cum?"

"in me." I groan.

"beg." he commands easily, watching my face contort in pleasure. I could pretend to fight it, to give a little attitude, but I don't want to. I love begging for him.

"fill me up, Matthew. please." each word punctuated by the breathlessness of my voice. he gets even more ferocious with me, beating up my pussy until I'm sure he's going to leave me sore.

"right there, right there," he gasps, hitting the same spot that makes me go cross-eyed. "such a good little slut."

his cum shoots into me, deep and warm and erotically twisted, and I nearly collapse. it feels weird, but so good at the same time. full. he groans out my name and withdraws, quick to grab my shoulders and hold me up as I almost fall. I hadn't realized that most of my body weight was supported purely by his thrusts.

"whoa." he lets out a tired laugh, gentle in his touch. I'm heaving air into my lungs.

"sorry." I apologize, my body unstable.

"are you okay?" he seems genuinely concerned and I nod.

"yeah, I'm fine. just a little overwhelmed."

"here," he scoops me into his arms and brings me over to the old love seat in the dressing room, laying his jacket down before putting me on top of it. "can I get you something?"

"Sprite." I gesture to the glass on the vanity, and he smiles as he goes to get it. I gulp down whatever remains of it. "thanks."

"of course." he keeps glancing at my face and the red marks on my hips where he was clutching me like a lifeline. "I'm sorry."

"what?" I set the cup down. "don't ever be sorry for fucking me like that."

"no, I meant--" he laughs, but then he sees my playful expression and realizes that I'm genuinely alright. I think my legs were asleep.

"you're a saint." I tell him. he frowns and shakes his head bashfully. I'm already getting up and collecting my clothes. "or maybe what we just did prevents you from reaching sainthood. I don't know."

he places his hand on my lower back, kisses my forehead tenderly.

"seriously. you're okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine," I assure him. "but I would be better with a milkshake."

Matthew breaks into a slow grin, staring at me like I've done something miraculous.

"how are you so perfect?"

#matthew gray gubler #mgg smut #mgg oneshot #mgg x reader

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prismportrait · 3 years

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OK okay because I ship Lance, Steven, and Cynthia as a poly couple, I finally got talked into designing fankids for them from a friend... so hereeeee we are! Kinnan and Leda. Kinnan is the younger brother and son to Steven and Cynthia, psychic types are mostly his specialty with Pokemon like Espeon, Wyrdeer, and he has a dream to be an astronaut! Leda is the older sister and daughter to Lance and Cynthia, she’s trained with Gyarados in the Dragon Den but her favorite is the gift Archeops she evolved, Leda goes on to be a young gym leader in Sinnoh and ends up taking contests more seriously.

there are more kids but 👀 To be drawn eventually

About Leda

From birth to 5 1/2, Leda mostly lived in Sinnoh, vacationed in Hoenn. and did specific holidays in Johto such as Arcemas/ New Year. She moved by the time she was 6 to Johto where she attended school and rituals with her family until she was old enough to be a Pokemon trainer. Instead of having a formal journey, Leda applies to be a gym leader instead because she already trained under her parents and the dragon den. She was already stronger than the available candidates at the time for the first gym in Sinnoh since it became open when Byron retired and Roark moved.

Leda later actually travels at the same time as her little brother Kinnan when he first starts out to collect the Hoenn gym badges and challenge Steven. Since this was the last of her "break" before the Sinnoh league started up again, she thought it would be fun to tag along with him and she did try out contests a bit, Leda had fun enough to decide to pick them up a bit more in Sinnoh when she returned to her gym.

Leda would focus more on flying types. Steven gifted her a plume fossil to come watch their restoration process in Rustboro and she thought it was the coolest shit ever, so Archeops is her starter and best friend. However, Dracozolt was her own mistake because someone tricked her into taking the random fossil rock to Devon before she could isolate just the bird part of the fossil. It turns out the genetic reconstruction only had enough info cause of the embedded rock with the Dino part. Leda feels really badly for having recklessly brought Dracozolt to life but she loves him immensely and takes good care of him even if he struggles sometimes.

This list may update with new SV Pokemon coming but Leda’s Pokémon kinda loosely fit a dragon theme while focusing on flying types, that’s what her specialized training in the Dragons Den was about afterall. Leda's Togekiss, Gyarados, and Skarmory are eggs from her parents. Tropius would probably be caught in Hoenn but I'd like to leave it open now for a gen 9 potential, just for fun. For the main team. I might replace see about a Corviknight too, maybe Skarmory wants to go have a nest of their own and she lets it go.

Fantina ends up giving Leda advice about the contests weirdly because she was trying too hard to be like Lisia & Wallace (and maybe May/Dawn/Serena) instead of being like herself, and older Fantina at this point is like ‘oh hun, lets just have fun by ourselves.’ It feels out of the blue but Fantina is still a gym leader afterall, she may be a fancy lady but she does see the potential she's losing.

Maybe Leda ends up excelling in cool contests with Dracozolt which is the main surprise since she hadn't found something Dracozolt was thrilled with doing yet.

About Kinnan

The family moved to live in Johto for Leda's studies around the time Cynthia was pregnant with Kinnan. Kinnan had a bit more freedom than Leda at the time and got into some antics wandering off Mt. Silver. He's an energetic and super curious kid, ‘hey, if I get on top of Mt. Silver, then I can see space better!’ Well he didn't get nearly that far before Mom caught him but it became a series of trying to sneak out from the parents and go. An escape artist was born!

Kinnan chose to travel Hoenn when he became old enough because he actually wanted to beat Steven as his proof that he was ready to go to space. Like that was somehow proof? To his 10 year old brain lol... Anyway he ends up having a much harder time against Wallace than he expected (I think by this time Wallace should at LEAST be elite four, drake would retire) so Steven reassures him that he doesn't have to become Champion to prove anything. But he'd be very much happy to settle the bet out of the league too.

Kinnan didn't win against his dad but he felt better by the end of it and with the assurance that he had his parents blessing and that he didn’t have to be a Pokemon Trainer just because all of them were.

Before we move on, his main Pokemon is a Wyrdeer he caught during one of his escape acts in Johto and managed to evolve while helping his mother with some research! He also has a Gengar whom he loved to play tricks on his sisters with, and a Lucario & Espeon he hatched from Mom’s eggs at his aunt’s daycare work.

So, Kinnan joined the space program in Mossdeep! He wanted Grandpa to just "put his name in" but all of the adults agree that wouldn't be a good idea and think Kinnan should go through what anyone would while trying to get on a rocket to space. He had to enter the academy.

Kinnan mostly had adult rivals as well as a handful of teens, but his specific rival would be the ancestor to Irida! She has her shit together without a big name like "the champion's son". Even more intimidating, she's the only other "kid" on the program.

The Space Training program is proving resourcefulness, strength- both physical and Pokemon battle (as they know Deoxys can attack if accidentally provoked!), math, etc. They also have to follow orders which Kinnan initially struggles with as he is a bit delinquent at first with authority as a means of testing boundaries like he was with his own parents. Kinnan eventually comes across cells and captures 10% Zygarde through his research as part of his work study.

Kinnan comes to appreciate the structure and respect the history, maybe right in time for crazier shit that could happen in a story way like an Ultra Wormhole disrupts his first space voyage and he has to do everything manually and driving the Nihilego or whatever back into the vortex. TBD I suppose!

Last quick notes on the family...

Kinnan LOVES cold weather but he chose Hoenn as a challenge to himself since space is about extremes, he loves the snow and loves visiting Sinnoh on vacation or any occasion really.

All of the kids call Cynthia ‘Mom’ of course, Steven is ‘Dad’ and Lance is ‘Oton’ since that is the Kansai (Johto) dialect way of referring to a father anyhow.

Cynthia’s sister works for and ends up taking over the daycare in Solaceon

Since I’m sure some might wonder as it wasn’t well written in my comic so far but the leagues have “seasons” and they all run differently. The Indigo league runs starting in late fall to early spring, it’s a pretty short but intense league. Hoenn begins in early spring while Sinnoh begins in late spring, with Hoenn lasting until September and Sinnoh ending in October. The family luckily enjoys travel and usually will spend some of the summer between Hoenn and Sinnoh, even when they’re living mostly full time in Johto.

Our middle child is named Ryumi! There will be a total of 2 more after Kinnan but I’ll cross that bridge when I get there lol

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jimlingss · 4 years

Note

ooo exciting !!! jungkook + romance/fluff + "kiss me" + e2l

Anonymous said: Can I request a fluffy jungkook fic with a touch of angst. Any AU you want and maybe a friends to lovers? Feel free to decline :)

Anonymous said: a fluffy “oh! you’re jealous” prompt with Jungkook pls? any au is fine☺️

Anonymous said: jungkook, prompt list 1 - #27: “Are you blushing?” :> i hope you have a lovely holiday season!!

Anonymous said: Friends to lovers!! Or enemies to lovers pls!! I love that shit

This is the most ambitious crossover of requests since Avengers lol jk.

↳ Suspended, Seduced, Surprised!

1.9k || 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst || Jeon Jungkook || E2L, Huddle For Warmth!AU (sort of)

It started off with Jungkook coming out of nowhere and nearly scaring the living daylights out of you.

He laughed — that noisy sound that makes his nose scrunch — and you rolled your eyes, turning back around in the line. When the ski lift chair arrived, he asked if he could come too. You told him to kindly fuck off, but in the next second, he slid next to you, smiling widely.

It was too late for him to get off. Not when your feet was already lifted off the ground.

You don’t know why he’s so adamant about bothering you. If Taehyung didn’t tell you at the last minute that Jungkook was coming along, you would’ve just not come on this trip and ruin your winter break like this.

“Why didn’t you go with Sana?”

The ski lift is ascending upwards at an incline, moving past the coniferous trees and those skiing down the mountain beneath you. Luckily, it wasn’t too sunny or snowy out. But the air was still sharp with frost that’s long made your cheeks numb. Every exhale past your parted lips creates a cloud of condensation.

Jungkook’s thick brow lifts and he pushes his ski goggles up onto his head, on top of his blue beanie like yours. His doe eyes look at you. “Why would I go with her?”

You shoot him an incredulous expression. You don’t know why he’s playing dumb. “I thought you were trying to get cozy with her.”

The corner of Jungkook’s mouth slyly curls and he leans in. “Oh. You’re jealous.”

Instantly, your face contorts into a disgusted expression and a boyish laugh bubbles out of him.

“I would,” he says, “but she already has a boyfriend.”

“She does?”

Jungkook hums. “Some guy two years older than us, majoring in finance.”

Oh. You didn’t know that.

Suddenly it sinks in that you’re having an actual conversation with Jungkook. One where he’s being a cocky asshole only a tiny amount and you can actually bear through it. It almost feels like you’re….friends.

But right as the thought comes to mind, the ski lift chair halts and momentarily swings. You jolt, looking at the chair ahead of you that’s frozen as well before turning around. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Everyone is seemingly as confused as you are. “It looks like we’re stuck.”

You groan. “Oh shit.”

Five minutes later, Taehyung comes wandering underneath you. He stands by a tree on the sidelines and cups his gloved hands around his mouth. “Oh my god!” he screams at the top of his lungs. “I finally found you guys!”

“Taehyung!” You shout back at him. “What’s going on?!”

“Well, I was looking around for ages and Jimin wanted to give up since he thought you went down to the lodge and I told him no way—”

“Dude!” Jungkook shrieks and you wince at the sheer volume of his voice. “We get it!”

You remember why he grinds on your nerves so badly. Everything Jeon Jungkook does just irritates you. Including the fact that he was currently trying to burst your eardrums.

“Right! Sorry! They said it would be fixed in half an hour! Hang in there!” Taehyung fist pumps the air with a rectangular grin as if it’s enough to encourage the two of you and you sigh loudly.

“Whelp.” Jungkook settles back into his seat. “Looks like we won’t die.”

“Great.”

“Are you cold?”

You turn to the boy, surprised that he’s actually considerate enough to—

“We could always get naked, you know,” he adds, shattering the image of him that had curated in your mind for point two seconds and it flees as quickly as it came. “To converse heat.”

Your mouth opens, speechless. You shake your head. “Right when I thought you were being nice to me for once.”

Jungkook grins unabashedly. “I am being nice. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t flirt like this with anyone else and if you ask me, I think it’s working too.” The bastard leans in and you lean backwards to keep more distance. He bats his pretty lashes. “Are you blushing?”

You deadpan, “It’s literally negative thirty degrees out.”

He laughs again.

The both of you get comfortable, laying your ski poles across your laps, and looking out at the snowy mountain landscape that’s all too peaceful. Or at least until you feel a poke through your puffed jacket.

You look down to find Jungkook handing you a heat pack from his pocket. “It’s not much but it might help.”

“....Thanks.”

Strangely, the guy doesn’t brag about how kind he is or how much you should appreciate the gesture. He simply starts to hum to kill time. It’s soothing. Kind of nice to listen to even.

You enjoy it until he abruptly stops and asks— “Why do you hate me so much?”

You look at him. “Seriously?”

Jungkook smiles and it’s somehow reminiscent of a rabbit. “What? Nothing like confronting people when they’re trapped in a spot with nowhere to run, right? Plus, this is a good opportunity to be reflective, don’t you think?”

You scoff, not sure where to begin. But there’s no reason why you should spare him from the truth of why you grew to have such a strong distaste for him. If he wants to know, you’ll happily let him know.

“How about for never calling me back after you slept with me? Is that a good enough reason for you?”

Jungkook’s head whirls over. The bomb’s been dropped.

You feel his stare on your profile. It goes deathly quiet.

It’s the biggest resentment you held against him, what made his cocky attitude even uglier to you. Maybe you shouldn’t be so angry. It wasn’t like he vowed anything would happen afterwards. Maybe he thought it was supposed to be a no-strings attachment thing. But it wasn’t like that for you.

Jungkook acted interested when you first met. He sweet-talked you. He led you to believe there would be something more. And when there wasn’t— well, the rest is history.

You wonder if Jungkook’s shriveling up and cringing for asking in the first place or if he’s remotely ashamed. You hope he is. It serves him right. The audacity he has to talk to you casually after ghosting you so brutally like that is insulting. You wonder how he’ll respond, if he’ll regret bringing the subject up, if he’ll try to conjure some kind of half ass apology—

“Because you never gave me your number.”

This time, your neck snaps towards him. Jungkook’s gaze is unwavering.

“You’re the one who ditched me,” he says. “You were gone when I woke up.”

“I wrote you a note. On a napkin on the dresser.”

The man, in the blue snowboard jacket and black ski pants, frowns. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. Do you think I would lie about this?”

“Then I never saw it.”

It’s easy for Jungkook to lie. One of his many talents is his pretty lips that has easy words rolling off his tongue like butter. But by his expression, the slight pout of his mouth, the furrow of his brows, you can tell he’s being genuine. There isn’t any facade, any flirtation.

“I would’ve remembered if I saw it cause that morning Taehyung woke me up and he never wakes up before me. But he was whining because of his allergies and needed me to run to the pharmacy—”

The pair of you go silent.

It dawns on you both.

Kim Taehyung.

Knowing Taehyung and his godforsaken allergies, he must’ve taken the napkin and sneezed right into it. He probably threw it in the trash or took it with him and crumpled it into his hand. God fucking dammit.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Jungkook murmurs, his eyes rounded at the realization.

You shift uncomfortably. The possibilities of what-if storm your mind. What if Jungkook saw it, what if he texted you or called you afterwards like he promised. What if you didn’t meet again on accident through Taehyung but continued the communication yourselves. Could he be sitting here next to you as someone more in your life?

But you brush the thoughts away as it overwhelms you.

“That’s funny,” you pipe up, mustering some stiff laughter, breaking the silence. “At least we solved one mystery.”

“Y/N.”

“It’s cold.” You wrap your arms around you. “We should stop talking and conserve heat.”

Jungkook nods and the pair of you quiet down. But without conversation, time drags on slower.

You peek a look at him and instead of being deep in thought like you thought he’d be, Jeon Jungkook is looking around, blinking with his doe eyes, the black strands from his bangs nearly pricking into them. He’s completely nonchalant and you internally sigh to yourself.

You’re not sure what you were expecting.

Jungkook is Jungkook.

That note on the dresser probably wouldn’t have changed anything.

“Y/N.” He speaks up a minute later.

“What?”

“You know how we could keep warm?”

“What.”

“Kiss me.”

You could not roll your eyes harder.

An enormous grin spreads into Jungkook’s cheeks, irises twinkling from the snow’s refraction. The little shit has too much fun annoying you and he jumps at the chance to continue to egg you on, “Why? Too scared to? Think you might fall in love with me now that we cleared the air and you don’t hate me anymore?”

He bats his lashes exaggeratedly.

You scoff. “Yeah right. As if.”

“Then why not?”

Your head spins around to face him, momentarily taken aback at how he’s a few inches away but you conceal your expression just as quick. You don’t know why he’s so insistent on this terrible joke. “Why? Do you want me to kiss you?”

Jeon Jungkook’s grin taunts you.

You loll your head to the side, eyes narrowing into slits. “You think I won’t do it.”

“I’m just trying to improve the mood.” He sits back and shrugs, having too much fun watching your explosive reactions. “It doesn’t matter what I say to you. You’re a dog with all bark but no bite, Y/N. I know you too well.”

Your jaw clenches at the challenge. At his mocking tone. At the bastard’s audacity.

And just to prove him wrong, you grab Jungkook’s face in your hands and turn him towards you. In one breath, you aggressively slam your mouth against his. It almost hurts. Your teeth nearly clash. But you barely feel anything with your numb lips except for how chapped his lips are.

It’s a brief kiss, but enough to prove yourself.

You pull away with a cocked brow and small smirk, relishing in his wholly stunned expression.

At that same moment, the ski lift jolts and starts to move again. Someone behind you cheers.

“You don’t know me at all, Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur softly, seductively and with the smirk still plastered on your features. The unloading zone approaches, so you move the safety bar, stand up from the ski lift chair and glide away.

Jungkook’s delayed, but follows after you helplessly a second later. You turn around while you still have the chance and he stares at you, blinking owlishly.

“If you want to make me blush or get jealous, you’re going to have to try a lot harder than you have been, Jeon. You should probably work on your kissing skills too. Staying like a dead fish isn’t appealing to me.”

You glide away on your skis before he can get another word in. In the meanwhile, a grin slowly spreads into Jungkook’s cheeks and he decides to accept your challenge.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook reader insert #jungkook scenario #bts fluff #bts reader insert #Anonymous #Jimlings

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lilyvandersteen · 4 years

Text

The Christmas Guest Chapter 10

Author’s Note: Here’s Blaine’s point of view of the kiss and what comes after. Fluff galore. Enjoy!

Read Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 and Chapter 5, the Interlude, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8 and Chapter 9 here on Tumblr, or read the story on AO3 or FF.net.

Chapter 10: Part of the Family

As soon as Blaine’s lips touched Kurt’s, he felt Kurt freeze for a moment, but just when he wanted to draw back and apologize, Kurt let out the softest sigh and melted against him. He also started kissing back, and held Blaine as if he’d never let go again. It made Blaine completely forget where he was and why. All that existed was Kurt, and how he felt, and how he tasted, and how he made Blaine’s head whirl with the simplest touch.

Blaine had no idea how much time had passed when the two of them were jolted apart by another party-goer, but it was not nearly long enough. He blinked hazily at Kurt, who looked as kiss-drunk as Blaine felt, and then at the people around them, who were… counting?

Oh. Right. New Year. Oh, brilliant, then we can kiss some more!

As soon as everybody started yelling Happy New Year, Blaine kissed Kurt again, reveling in the fact that he could, and that Kurt seemed to welcome his attentions. They needed to talk about this, yes, but first… First, he was going to enjoy this!

Again, he had to stop before he was ready to, this time because one of Kurt’s friends took offence to their PDA. They were quickly defended by Kurt’s other friends, but Blaine could tell Kurt felt uncomfortable, so he didn’t protest when Kurt wanted to go home, though he was a bit apprehensive about the conversation they would be having once they were back in Kurt’s room. Had he overstepped Kurt’s boundaries without realizing? Had Kurt only kissed back to keep up appearances? Surely, Blaine couldn’t have misread the situation that badly?

He chanced a quick glance at Kurt, who hadn’t said a word since they left the party, but his face was unreadable. He was shivering, though, and at once, Blaine’s preoccupations flew out of his head and he only thought of warming up Kurt.

In thanks for his efforts, Kurt sent him a glowing smile, which kept Blaine going until they were back in Kurt’s bedroom, putting their pajamas on, still in silence. By the time Blaine slipped into bed, his skin was skittering with all the feelings and words cooped up inside of him. As he cuddled up to Kurt, he couldn’t keep it all in anymore, and he burst out into an apology – right at the same time as Kurt started talking.

Well, not so much talking as asking for an explanation. Which was only fair, of course. Only… What answer did he expect? Could Blaine be honest and tell Kurt he’d tumbled head over heels in love with him? Would he dare?

Blaine hedged a bit, but Kurt pressed on, and his resistance crumbled. He could no more lie to Kurt than he could to himself. And maybe it was crazy to feel this way about someone he’d only known for a few days, but if by some miracle, Kurt felt the same way, maybe they could try dating for real?

He didn’t have to wait long for an answer. Kurt’s lips found his, and his heart leapt happily. Yes!

K&B

When Blaine woke up the next morning, Kurt was still deeply asleep, his head on Blaine’s bicep and his arm thrown over Blaine’s chest.

Blaine smiled up at the ceiling, happier than he could remember ever being, and enjoying this quiet private time holding Kurt in his arms.

This Christmas break had been nothing like he’d expected, but it had been everything he needed. Relaxing. A slice of home and family. Scrumptious food and fun pastimes. And most importantly: Kurt.

My boyfriend.

Oh, it felt good to think those words and know they were finally true. It felt so right. Like it had from the very beginning, when Kurt sat down next to him on the plane, and Blaine had smiled at him as though they’d known each other forever.

Well, maybe in another life they had.

Blaine heard floorboards creak, and a second later, Burt’s head peeped in.

“Good morning!” Blaine whispered. “And Happy New Year!”

“Kurt still asleep?”

“Dead to the world.”

“Glad you got home okay. Did Finn’s girl sleep over too?”

“Yes. We were all exhausted.”

“That late?”

“Just after midnight. That’s late enough for me.”

Burt hummed in assent. “Well, come down to breakfast if you can pry Mr. Koala loose. Carole’s making blueberry pancakes.”

That made Blaine’s mouth water. He looked down at Kurt sleeping peacefully, and then back at Burt, torn.

Burt chuckled. “Or not. You can always whip up a batch yourself later, if you want a bit of a lie-in. But no shenanigans, you hear me?”

Blaine nodded, and the door closed again.

Blaine closed his eyes and softly stroked Kurt’s hair.

“What time izzit?” came a sleepy inquiry.

Blaine smiled and told Kurt, “Way too early for you. Go back to sleep, sweetie.”

Kurt curled into him like a contented cat, rubbing his head against Blaine’s hand. “Feels good when you do that.”

So Blaine kept up his gentle caresses until Kurt’s face went slack, and he nodded off again himself a while later.

By the time they made their way downstairs, it was past ten o’clock, and Blaine’s stomach was rumbling in protest.

“Morning, sleepyheads,” said Carole. “Burt’s off to work already, and Finn finished all the pancakes, I’m afraid. I swear he’s got some sixth sense for food cooking. Always shows up seconds after the pan starts sizzling.”

Kurt yawned. “No worries, Carole, we’ll fend for ourselves. Are there still eggs?”

Twenty minutes later, Finn came into the kitchen, sniffing like a dog. “Is that cinnamon toast I smell?”

Blaine hid a smile. Carole had spoken the absolute truth. Finn had shown up not even a minute after the first toast had hit the pan.

Kurt swatted at Finn with the spatula. “Out! Yes, it’s cinnamon toast, and no, you can’t have any. You’ve already had breakfast, and you finished your own as well as ours, says Carole.”

“I was hungry!”

“Well, now WE are hungry and don’t want to share. Clear out!”

“Aw, come on!”

“Maybe that works on Cathy, but not on me. What did you do, swipe half of her pancake while she was talking to Carole?”

“No! She had a whole one herself. And then she let me finish her second one.”

Kurt fake-swooned. “Aw, true love! Where’s Cathy, anyway?”

Finn pouted. “She went home already. Said she still had tons of work to do. Lessons to prepare. For next week.”

“Well, at least one of you takes their studies seriously. Why don’t you take her good example and get some work done as well? Not much else to do, ‘cause Puck and the other New Directions will be hungover, and Blaine and I will be packing because we’re going back to New York.”

“Hang on, you’re leaving today?”

That was news to Blaine too. His plane ticket back to New York was for two days later, as he didn’t have class until Tuesday afternoon. Still, he could try and get his flight rebooked. He just wished he’d known a bit earlier.

As soon as Finn had left the kitchen, Blaine asked Kurt what flight he was taking, and then spent a good half hour on the phone to sort things out. When he hung up with a triumphant smile, having scored not only the flight but also the exact seat he wanted, Kurt shook his head, smirking.

“When you start pouring on the charm, I don’t think anyone could say no to you if they tried.”

Blaine cocked his head to the side and moved a bit closer. “Hmm… You can’t say no to me? Now that’s interesting…”

Kurt squeaked in apprehension – actually squeaked, and Blaine grinned.

Kurt’s chin went up. “I’ll learn to say no. So there. I’ll become immune, after a while.”

Blaine’s grin widened. “I wouldn’t be too sure, if I were you.”

“Oh, hush you!”

“Make me.”

And then he lost both his words and his grin when Kurt grabbed his head and kissed him.

They didn’t stop kissing until Finn came stomping into the kitchen looking for a snack, and asked, “Weren’t you going to pack?”

When Burt drove them to the airport that evening, he looked at Blaine in the rear-view mirror – they’d opted to both sit in the back again – and asked, “So are you sad you didn’t get to spend the holidays with your own folks, bud?”

Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hand, looked at him with all his love showing, and answered, “Not a bit. I had a marvelous time. Again, thank you so much for your hospitality.”

“Happy to have you, kid. Feel free to tag along every year from now on. We’ve all accepted you as part of the family.”

Blaine felt ridiculously close to tears, even as the corners of his mouth curved up, and could not manage a response. It made him happy to be so accepted, yet he felt guilty, too, for deceiving Burt.

Kurt kissed his cheek and announced, “Good, ‘cause Blaine is here to stay. Though, Blaine, I do want to meet your family too, someday.”

As soon as Blaine could strings words together again, he promised, “You will. We can go see my parents this summer. And Skype with Cooper one of these days. Though… I apologize in advance for all the ridiculous things Cooper is going to say.”

“Brothers,” Kurt nodded knowingly.

Kurt hugged his father tightly at the airport. When he let go, Blaine held out his hand for Burt to shake, but instead, Burt wrapped him up in a bear hug, too.

“Take care, kiddo. And look after Kurt for me, will you? Make him eat enough and sleep enough and have some fun in between all his work.”

“I will. I promise.”

Burt let him go and clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re a good kid. Wouldn’t mind having you as my son-in-law one day.”

“Daaaaad!” Kurt moaned.

“What, like you haven’t planned the wedding already in your head?”

Kurt looked as if he wanted to sink through the floor. “Dad, please! Do you want Blaine to run for the hills? We’ve only just become boyfriends!”

Well, isn’t that the truth… But I can totally picture myself married to you, so I’m not running anywhere but into your arms.

“I don’t think Blaine’s the kind to be easily scared off. He let us kidnap him when he didn’t know us from Adam, didn’t he?”

Both Kurt and Blaine gaped at Burt.

He chuckled at their gob-smacked expressions. “I heard you, kid. Inviting Blaine ‘as a friend’ because he’d been nice to you on the plane. I saw you making goo-goo eyes at each other. But Blaine didn’t dare say yes. So I made him come with us. And I don’t regret it. Do you?”

Kurt closed his mouth with a snap, and shook his head slowly, his eyes misty and his smile radiant.

Blaine shook his head as well. “Best thing that ever happened to me.”

#klaine fanfiction #my fic #The Christmas Guest #chapter 10 #enjoy!

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anarcoqueer1994 · 3 years

Text

4th of July, 1932

It was Steve's 14th birthday, not that anyone would remember, not when he shared a birthday with America's number one day to blow up things. Sarah even had to work today, regretfully telling him they would have a little birthday dinner tomorrow. She gives him a plate of deviled eggs to bring down. He doesn't give her trouble, he knows his ma has to work any shift she could get to support them. He'd bring in a little doing free lance drawing in the park, but not nearly enough.

Anyhow, the neighborhood was having a block party for the holiday, so he decided to go down and enjoy, knowing Bucky would be there. In fact, when he opened his door to head out, Bucky was already on his steps waiting for him.

"Happy Birthday, Stevie!" Bucky smiles at him before pulling him into a big hug, carefully maneuvering as to not drop the eggs. Usually this would be fine, he and Bucky hugged all the time. But Bucky turned fifteen a few months back and had had that growth spurt, putting him almost 8 inches taller than his friend. That's when Steve started to realize that he may like Bucky more than a friend, spending countless nights praying to God to fix him, to make that feeling go away.

But when Bucky hugged him, all those feelings flooded back in as usual, prayer not working. He wanted to pull away, remind Bucky that guys their age aren't supposed to be that affectionate with each other(at least that's what Mr. Barnes had said), but he didn't. He just leaned into it for as long as Bucky wanted.

When the hug finally did break, Bucky was beaming at his friend. "So ready to get down there? Mrs. Horvat made hot dogs, and I don't trust there to be too many for long."

The golden haired boy couldn't help but smile back drawn in by warmth radiating from his best friend. "Sure thing, Buck. I'm ready." Bucky throws his arm around his shoulder as they walk down together.

When they get to the festivities, Steve drops his plate off at a big table(actually crates with some old boards laid across them) on the side walk. They walk around, enjoying the day, gorging themselves on food. Steve notices that Bucky's arm barely leaves his shoulder the entire day. The increased height difference though, made him more conscious of it. It felt like Bucky was pulling him, closer than usual. But he couldn't find it in him to complain.

Unfortunately, Steve isn't the only one who noticed how close the boys are. Walking past a group of women, some being mom's of a lot of the guys they had gone to school with(both having dropped out to help their parents back home, who needed more than an 8th grade education anyways?) Steve heard one whisper to another "Do you think their mothers know?" The other replies "Seriously, boys that age shouldn't be so cozy..."

Steve could feel his cheeks going pink, self conscious as they keep walking. He pulls away from Bucky. Bucky for his part looks...sad, like Steve had hurt him by suddenly pulling away. He has been wrapped up in telling Steve about some pulp novel he had swiped the other day and was reading, he hadn't heard the comments.

"What is it, Stevie? Are you okay?" Worry coats Bucky's features.

"Uh...yeah Buck, just um...guys out age can't act like that, don't, um want anyone to think we are pansy's." Steve tries not to look hurt by his own words but is impossible when Bucky looks like he just got kicked in the stomach.

But he recovers, flashing a fake smile to his friend. "Yea...I guess you're right, Steve."

Steve decides to leave it at that even though he's known Bucky long enough to know his friend's feelings are hurt. They continue to walk the streets, conscious not to touch each other. Unfortunately this isn't enough for some of their ex-classmates.

A group of them sat on some front porch steps of a brownstone. There were a couple of guys and few dames, all who had been in school with the two boys. As they walked by, a boy, Danny Vesely, whispered something into a pretty little redhead's, Mary Anne Smith, ear, pointing at Steve and then to Bucky. Steve knows he should keep his mouth shut, but when he pointed at Bucky, it became personal. But before he can say something, Bucky is already in action. He had seen them point at Steve.

"What's so funny, Danny?" He snaps at the boy making the comment.

"Nothing Barnes, just commenting how cute you and your best girl look."

Steve turns red, looking at the ground. Steve knew he didn't look as strong or manly as other boys his age, his ma assuring him he was just a late bloomer. That didn't make it feel any better when he would be called a girl.

He can feel heat radiating of his friend, anger surging through him. Steve may be embarrassed but he looks up again, ready to back his friend up if their is a fight, putting on a tough face.

Bucky shoots back "You better shut your ugly mug!" Bucky looks ready to kill, hating that Danny is trying to humiliate him.... humiliate Steve.

"Calm down, Barnes. It's nice that you are defending you girlfriend's honor and all but you are being a little dramatic." Danny smirks. "I guess my big brother was right, all you guys who are light in the loafers are so dramatic."

Mary Anne and few of the other kids sitting there chime in in a sing-songy voice. "Bucky and Steve sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

Now Bucky is red as the girls start to giggle. Bucky knows he can't hit girls, but Danny and the three other boys laughing are fair game. He steps closer and before Danny can react, his fist makes contact with Danny's nose, causing it to bleed. One of his friends steps up to retaliate, but Steve steps between him and Bucky and by some grace of god actually lands a pretty hard punch in the face. But Bucky sees this and knows that the two other guys will soon be coming to back up their friends. He understands they will be out numbered and refuses to let Steve get hurt.

Without out thinking, he grabs Steve's hand, pulling him away from the group. They run until the others stop chasing them, hiding in an alley, and then...Steve laughs. The adrenaline of the fight and running away from guys together, felt good. Honestly doing anything with Bucky felt good. He feels silly for pulling away from Bucky earlier. Bucky smiles, because of course he does. Those mean words didn't mean anything, really, as long as his Steve was happy and smiling.

Darkness is starting to fall, and the fireworks show over the water was supposed to start soon. As they stood in the alley, still holding hands, Bucky spots a fire escape ladder. "Hey Stevie?"

"What?"

"Do you trust me?" Bucky asks plainly.

"Don't be stupid, Buck. Of course I trust you, punk." Steve replies like it is the most obvious thing in the world. Steve can't think of a single person he has ever trusted more than his best friend from preactically the day he was born. Their mother's had been friends and Bucky, who was a who was a whole 16 months older, wanted to hold "the baby" all the time. It was "his baby," Of course not realizing he was a baby himself, but as he got older, he never stopped wanting to hold "his baby," even if Steve was too dense to realize that.

Bucky drags him to the fire escape. "Follow me,Jerk." He smiles and of course Steve does follow him, They make it the top, until they are on tha roof. "What are we doing up here?" Steve questions.

"Watching the fireworks." Bucky replies simply with a smile that Steve can't help but mirror back. Bucky hesitantly takes Steve's hand again, and when Steve doesn't pull away, he laces his fingers with his friends, taking him to a spot on the roof that seemed clean enough to sit.

They wait for the fireworks, and when they finally start, Steve can only focus on Bucky and the way his face lights ups as the colors explode in the sky. He isn't sure what compels him to do this, but he rests his head on Bucky's shoulder. He feels the brunette tense for a moment, before he wraps his arm around Steve's shoulder.

He whispers softly "Hey Stevie?"

"Yea?" Steve's voice equally as quiet.

"Did you know that these fireworks aren't for the Fourth of July? Who cares about a dusty old country anyways? They are for you to celebrate the birthday of the best fella in the world." Bucky says in a matter-of-fact manner, you would be forgiven for thinking he actually believes this.

But he has been saying this to Steve every year since he learned to talk, so Steve was expecting this. It still didn't change the way Steve ended up blushing, this year feeling like there was more weight behind his words. "Thanks, Buck..."

"Don't thank me, it's true." Bucky insists before continuing. "One more question, Stevie."

"Shoot." Steve responds, head still firmly planted on Bucky's shoulder.

"What do you want for your birthday?" Bucky asks plainly, but Steve could feel Bucky's hand lazily stroking his shoulder.

Steve takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He know what he wants...and he figured after the events of today, he could ask. If Bucky is repulsed, he can play it off like a joke. In a voice almost too small to be audible, Steve answers "A kiss..."

Bucky's hand stills on Steve's shoulder before pulling away. Steve begins to panic, lifting his head off of Bucky's shoulder. He starts to make up a lie in his head, to brush this off, and never talk about it again. But when he looks up at Bucky, he had adjusted so he was sitting in front of Steve now, smiling. He softly replies "Okay." And Steve feels like his heart will beat right out of his chest and fly away. He wonders if Bucky would catch it for him.

His hands go clammy as he is watching Bucky lean in, slowly, almost too slowly. Steve closes his eyes, nervously leaning to meet Bucky, and their lips connect and it's better than the fireworks going off around them. It's chaste, and awkward, the awkwardness of a first kiss for both of them but unbelievably sweet.

When they pull away, both are smiling contently. Bucky takes his place back next to Steve, wrapping both arms around him now, threatening to never let him go. As they watch the rest of the show, he says "Happy Birthday, Stevie."

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #steve x bucky #pre serum steve #captain america #fanfic #Stucky fanfic #4rh of July

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renaerys · 4 years

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PPG One-Shot: Mall Santa (Boomer/Mike and Brick/Blossom)

Summary: To earn a little extra cash over the holidays, Brick, Mike, and Boomer agree to help out their buddy Todd at a Mall Santa gig. Shenanigans ensue.

This one is for @snailbutters, @genovah, and @hanaokm. Merry Christmas and happy holidays! Enjoy some Boomike, Blossick, and Capri Sus on me.

[Cross-posted to AO3]

xxx

There were a lot of things Todd needed: a haircut, for one. His black hair was getting too long for gel and it was really pushing the boundary between greaser sexy and sad trash hobo. Money, for another. But like any other 21-year-old townie with a high school education and two restaurant jobs, he always needed money.

A new best friend, for yet another.

“I’m not your best friend,” Brick snapped as he tied a black tie around his neck. He needed to leave in ten minutes if he was going to be early for his dinner meeting with Oliver Morbucks.

Todd put a hand over his heart like it might fall out of the wound Brick’s words had stabbed there. “Dude, of course you are. I’m totally sorry if I ever gave you the wrong idea.”

Brick grimaced so hard he was sure he’d end up constipated. “No, you idiot. I know you think I’m your best friend. You’ve never shut up about it, even after we graduated high school. I’m pretty sure the whole fucking Peninsula knows it the way you go around shouting it when you’re blasted.”

Todd looked like he’d just received news that his favorite nana wasn’t dying of cancer after all. “Oh, cool. For a second there I thought I really hurt your feelings. You know you’re kinda sensitive, right?”

Oh god.

“What do you want, Todd? I have a really important meeting and I’m not missing it for your bullshit.”

Brick checked his reflection in the bathroom mirror in his one-bedroom apartment in downtown Townsville. It was a shitty hole-in-the-wall kind of place, but Brick was used to squalor. His break was coming, he could feel it. If tonight’s meeting went over well, he’d have a more steady revenue stream and, more importantly, the connections and clout the Morbucks name brought to open doors. All the long days at Red’s Auto Shop saving and scraping by would finally pay off, and just in time for Blossom to graduate from college. It was perfectly planned, meticulously manipulated, all down to this last pivotal dinner.

“Cool, no big deal! I just need to know if you’re free this weekend.”

“Free to do what?” Brick indulged him, because Todd was one of the few people on this planet who wasn’t 100% intimidated by his very presence.

“To help me with this Mall Santa gig I got. Harry Pitt was supposed to be my number two elf, but he ate some bad prawns and they had to, like, airlift him to Citiesville General.”

Brick stopped everything he was doing and glared at his second-to-best friend, which was a key fact because second was not the same as first. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

“I know, right?” Todd knew his way around Brick’s embarrassingly small bathroom, opened up the hair wax, and fixed Brick’s styling job. “Dude always had a weak stomach, you remember. But you don’t fuck with bad prawns. I mean, obviously.”

Brick swatted Todd’s hands away and checked his reflection. It was definitely an improvement. “Not that; the Mall Santa thing, obviously!”

“Oh, yeah. So you’ll help me out?”

“Fuck no.”

“Aw, Briiiiiiick,” Todd whined.

Brick grabbed his dinner jacket from the closet barely big enough to fit a small, starving child. Todd, who had latched onto Brick in the seventh grade like a goddamned barnacle and never let go no matter how hard Brick tried to push him away, followed. “Not if you paid me.”

“You’ll get paid! It’s $20 an hour!”

Brick hesitated over the threshold. “That’s higher than minimum wage.” It was higher than his hourly rate at the garage too.

“Seasonal gigs, man. That’s how you win.”

“It’s seriously fucking not.”

Todd, one of three people in the universe who actually cared about Brick on a personal level even though he wasn’t obligated by blood, made his blue eyes big and wide in a way that reminded Brick of Puss-n-Boots from Shrek, Todd’s favorite movie. “C’mon, bruh. Do your bestie a solid? Just this once? I really need the money and they won’t let me keep the gig without two elves to fill in. So please? Pleeeeeeease?”

And Brick, former scourge of Townsville, a Super with the power to literally raze the planet if it so much as tickled his fancy, and the dictionary definition of the boy every father dreads his perfect, pretty little girl falling for against her better judgment, cracked like an egg.

“For fuck’s sake,” he groused. “Just text me the time and place and get out of my face already.”

Todd punched the air with both fists. “Yes!! Oh, hell yes! I love you so much, dude.”

“Blow me.” Brick checked his watch. Shit, now he was merely on time.

“I’d consider it an honor,” Todd said, probably literally serious.

xxx

Boomer rolled glitter on his cheeks and around the edges of his dark blue eyes with the help of a compact as he huddled behind the North Pole set on the first floor of the Townsville Mall. When he was satisfied that he sparkled like the tinsel-festooned Christmas trees in Santa’s twelve-by-fifteen-foot “forest” themselves, he discreetly re-emerged just as the latest child slid off Santa’s lap.

“Merry Christmas, Dan!” bellowed a red and white-clad Todd behind an enormous, curly beard. “Remember to brush your teeth!”

The little boy ran back to his parents, who were having a word with the photographer about purchasing a picture of their son on Santa’s lap. Before Boomer could follow them, Brick was quick to cut him off.

“Where the hell were you?” he demanded. Sour as an un-sugared plum in his festive, candy-striped elf costume, Brick may have absolutely intimidated the seven-year-olds waiting in line with their parents for a turn on Santa’s lap, but Boomer only allowed him a bemused smile.

“Why, I was making toys for the good little boys and girls who came to visit us here at the North Pole,” Boomer said in a raised voice. He looped his arm through his brother’s and let his power surge with enough force to turn Brick around and face the crowd that was definitely within hearing range. “Isn’t that right, Elf Mursten?”

Brick pushed back with inhuman force, but Boomer held his ground with a smile as bright as the glitter on his cheeks as a little girl in overalls trotted forward.

She giggled. “I like your hat.”

“Thank you!” Boomer gushed, and he tipped his pom-pom-topped cap. “And what’s your name?”

The little girl giggled again. “My name’s Alynn.”

“Well, Alynn, why don’t you step right up and take a seat on Santa’s lap? I’m sure he has a great present for a cool girl like you. Right, Elf Mursten?”

Brick glared medieval torture at him, and he managed a smile that showed too many teeth to be anything other than life-threatening. “Of course, Elf Buller.”

Boomer’s smile tightened.

“Ho ho ho! Come on over, Santa doesn’t bite,” Todd said.

“What a psychotic reassurance,” Brick said soft enough for only the Super brothers to hear.

“Hey, Brick?” Boomer said, just as softly. “Cheer the fuck up.” He gave his brother a bone-crushing squeeze around the arm and broke from him. Brick could be a sourpuss when he wanted to be (all the time), but he wouldn’t mess up Todd’s Mall Santa gig when he’d bothered to show up and actually put in the effort at all. Complain as he might about Todd’s exuberance, Brick had always come through for his best friend since the seventh grade.

Boomer, on the other hand, had been very happy to accept Todd’s offer to work the two weeks leading up to Christmas. The hours were reasonable, the pay was good, and Boomer loved children. It was easy money in between local shows he and his garage band had booked over the holidays.

Plus, the photographer had a nice rack.

“Okay, Santa, Alynn. Look over here and say ‘jingle bells’!” A flash went off, and Mike Believe stood to his full height behind the tripod he’d set up for the day’s pictures. Even in reindeer antlers and a bright, red-painted nose, Mike filled out every fold of his brown Rudolph outfit almost to the point of popping a button. His broad chest puffed out when he put his strong hands on his hips and grinned brightly like he wouldn’t pick anywhere else to be right now.

Their eyes met, and Boomer flushed and smiled like a fool.

When Mike winked back at him coyly, his heart leaped into his throat. Mike had gotten home from college just two days ago, but the three weeks he had off for Winter Break would surely fly by like they did every year, and Boomer was determined to spend every moment together.

A tug on Boomer’s green tunic drew his attention. “Can I take a picture with you? Please?” the little girl asked.

Boomer beamed and scooped her up onto his hip. “Of course you can. Hey, Mike? Can you take one of us, please?”

“You bet! Get in close, now.” Mike readied his camera.

“Oh, wait a sec. Why don’t you take this too?” Boomer removed his festive hat and put it on Alynn’s head. It was big on her, but she laughed happily.

They posed for the picture, and Boomer hugged her cheek to cheek.

“Thanks!” The little girl tried to give him his hat back, but he pressed it to her chest.

“You keep it. Merry Christmas. Remember to be good, okay?”

Alynn’s father was waiting with a hand for her to take when she ran back to him, yammering about how she’d met Santa and his super cool elf friend, and Boomer watched them go.

“You know you’ll have to pay for that hat,” Brick said.

Boomer sighed and ran a hand through his cornflower hair. “You know I look better without it.”

Brick frowned deeply. “Uh-huh.”

“If you keep frowning, your face will stick like that.”

“Moron.”

He always had to have the last word. Brick went to stack the empty boxes wrapped in bright, shiny paper, which was probably more productive than blowing up the entire display. Boomer left him to it. It was time for their mid-morning break, anyway.

Todd got up to stretch. “Man, who knew sitting could be so tiring, huh? Whack.” His phone buzzed, and he grinned when he saw the caller ID.

Boomer, however, had eyes only for Mike as the latter turned off his camera and put a sheet over the tripod to protect it. “Working hard, I see.”

When Mike smiled, his dark eyes crinkled in the corners. He had a face made for smiling. “Oh, you know. Just helping out some friends.”

Like Brick, Todd had asked Mike to help out behind the camera for this gig. Mike didn’t exactly need the extra cash given his lacrosse scholarship that covered his college expenses, but the three of them had been as thick as thieves all through high school no matter what Brick said when he was annoyed. No way was Mike going to bail on the chance to help out a bro.

“This is cute,” Mike said, running a thumb over Boomer’s sparkly cheek.

“If only I could convince Brick to wear some,” Boomer said, lacing his fingers in Mike’s as they shuffled to the side of the exhibit behind a blinking Christmas tree for a bit of privacy.

Mike chuckled. “That’ll take a Christmas miracle. But anyway, I don’t want to talk about Brick right now.”

Their kiss was soft and mostly chaste, considering the venue, but Boomer didn’t mind at all. He rose up on his toes to lean into his boyfriend’s superior height and smiled into their kiss. Even in the middle of the Townsville Mall with shoppers mere yards away, for a few seconds Boomer got lost in the fantasy of the forest and the snow drifts, bright lights and magic that came around only once a year and had always touched his heart in a way nothing else quite could.

“Babe! You got here quick!” Todd’s excitement and a small commotion around Santa’s throne drew the lovers’ attention, and Boomer reluctantly broke the kiss. His Super hearing quickly picked up on what was going on.

“What is it?” Mike asked.

Boomer smiled wryly. “That Christmas miracle you wished for. Come on.” He took Mike’s larger hand in his and pulled him back toward the front of the display, where Todd had scooped up a very small, very fashionable Asian woman in his arms.

“Oh my god, don’t do shits in front of the innocent children, Toddy.” Hana patted her high bun and smoothed out her oversized black jacket once Todd released her.

“Hey, I just missed you is all,” Todd said with a genuine smile like he had really, truly missed his girlfriend since this morning when they had last seen each other.

“You guys are too cute,” said Bubbles with a giggle. As usual, she was adorable in blonde twin tails and a holiday-appropriate sweater dress. Shopping bags hung from both her arms, also as usual.

“Right?” Hana said, her deadpan façade melting completely as she beamed at her closest friend.

“No contest.” Bubbles set down her small nation of shopping bags. “Oh! Hi, Boomer!” She dashed to hug him in a flash of blue, and he caught her easily. “Oh my gosh, I love your glitter. You look like a supermodel!”

Boomer laughed and hugged her back. “Thanks for letting me borrow it. I really owe you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Oh, but you definitely need some touching up. Here, let me just…”

Mike had wandered over to Todd and Hana. “Hey, Hana. Are you staying for the holiday?”

Hana shrugged. “Yeah, my art show isn’t until after New Year’s. You know, I’m always looking for more models.” She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

Mike laughed. “I’m honored, but I’m really nothing special, honestly. You might try Butch.”

Todd guffawed. “Oh man, Butch is, like, one of her top models! She painted him for what, six weeks last summer, babe?”

“Seven,” Hana said, dead serious.

Mike smiled nervously. “That’s a lot of inspiration.”

“He is very inspiring,” Hana said, deader and more serious.

“That dude is goals,” Todd said, totally unironically.

“I guess I can’t argue with that,” Mike said.

“Aaaaand done.” Bubbles stepped back to admire her handiwork. “Honestly? You’re the most beautiful elf the North Pole ever employed.”

Boomer snickered. “Don’t tell Brick that.”

“Don’t tell me what, now?” Brick emerged from his useless empty box stacking task, glitter-less and severely lacking in Christmas cheer.

Bubbles gasped, right on cue. “Brick! Where is your glitter? Get over here.”

Brick made a weird face. “What are you talk—hey!”

Bubbles all but accosted him with the glitter pen. Hana cheered and applauded, and Todd joined in because he liked to cheer and applaud in general.

“What are you—get off!” Brick shoved Bubbles hard, but a flash of pink caught her before she could crash into anything.

Blossom peered around her totally unfazed sister, a tray of lattes in one hand and her perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised. “Brick,” she said.

Brick swallowed. “Blossom.”

She looked nice in leggings and a sweater dress that matched Bubbles’ style, except where Bubbles’ was white, Blossom’s was a scarlet that rivaled the shade of Brick’s eyes.

“I brought you guys coffee,” Blossom said, her eyes trained on Brick even as she held out the tray.

Mike took the tray before it could become collateral damage in whatever was going on between the two of them.

“Here you go.” Mike offered one to Boomer, who gratefully accepted it.

“Thanks!”

“I thought you weren’t getting home until tomorrow,” Brick said, as if he and Blossom were the only two people there.

“Change of plans,” Blossom said. “Problem?”

Brick seemed to remember what he was wearing and snatched his elf hat from his head. He bunched it up between his hands like that would hide his imagined shame. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine, clearly. But it wasn’t Boomer’s place to intrude. He would have been extremely happy for it to end there, but sadly Blossom, like his brother, had a flair for the dramatic and an affinity for the center of attention.

She sauntered up to him and smeared the bit of glitter Bubbles had managed to draw on his cheek before he’d shoved her off. “Good,” she said, half an invitation and half a challenge.

Brick didn’t bend easily. Boomer knew his brother as well as he knew himself, and he knew Brick didn’t relent, never gave in unless he was well and truly beaten, which was rare. But he slackened now, lips parting and eyes falling. Even though his arms stayed stubbornly at his sides and he didn’t do something as scandalous as hold his girlfriend’s hand in public, he melted under her touch and attention.

“All right! Bloss, you’re back early! This is massive, like, supernova massive,” Todd said. “Hey, I know! Let’s throw a party at mine tonight! Brick said you weren’t coming back for another couple of days, so this is like a cool early Christmas present to all of us.”

Bubbles gasped. “Oh my gosh, yes! Let’s all go to Todd’s tonight, just like we used to. I’m calling Robin right now.”

“We can make it a real Christmas party,” Blossom said. Somehow, she’d gotten ahold of Bubbles’ glitter pen and now smeared a generous amount on Brick’s cheeks until he gleamed without suffering a nuclear meltdown. A Christmas miracle, indeed.

“You’ll wear the Santa suit,” Hana said. Demanded.

“Ho ho ho! You got it, babe.”

“That thing’s a rental,” Brick said. “And it’s, like, 75 degrees outside.”

“If he gets too hot, I’ll hose him down,” Hana said.

Brick smartly decided not to press her on that one.

“I like your elf costume, Brick,” Blossom teased. Maybe.

“I’m burning it as soon as I get paid,” Brick said.

“I thought it was a rental like Todd’s?”

He hesitated, trapped by his own logic, and she laughed softly and kissed the side of his mouth. Brick froze and played it off like it didn’t affect him, but his eyes were drawn to Blossom’s lips for the next six whole minutes. Boomer really didn’t get why he had to make everything so damn complicated.

“Hey, hombres, our break is up and I see a super cute kid waiting to sit on the softest lap in Townsville,” Todd said, sinking back onto his candy cane throne and patting his lap.

Brick visibly cringed.

“It could be worse,” Mike whispered to Brick. “At least this time we get to keep our shirts on.”

Boomer smiled at the memory of Todd’s last seasonal gig he’d roped Brick and Mike into over the summer. The shirtless carwash had admittedly been one of his more rewarding part-time jobs, and Boomer had the photo evidence to cherish the memory extremely fondly.

Blossom and Hana retreated behind Mike while Bubbles finished up her phone call with Robin and Brick admitted the next child on set.

“Welcome to the North Pole,” he said with all the cheer of an old tire. Nonetheless, his cheeks dazzled. “What’s your name, kid?”

She looked up at him but didn’t say anything. Boomer noticed her shyness and decided he better intervene.

“Hey there,” he said, taking a knee so he could be on her eye-level. “Merry Christmas.”

That alarmed her even more, and she hugged Brick’s leg.

“What the—” Brick put his hands up like he didn’t know what to do with them. “Great.”

The girl’s parents were busy talking to Mike about the picture packages and didn’t seem to notice what was going on.

“Uh,” Boomer said, ready to flag them down before the little girl got scared or started to cry. They’d been lucky this morning with only one child throwing a temper tantrum out of the tens they’d seen.

“All right, kid. I hope you have a good grip.” Brick floated off the ground with the little girl clinging to his leg and flew over to Todd’s throne.

Boomer was so flabbergasted by his brother’s gross disregard for this child’s safety in front of her parents that he was momentarily stunned where he kneeled. It was over in about two and a half seconds, with her parents none the wiser and the little girl still in one piece, miraculously. Brick peeled her off him and dropped her on Todd’s lap.

“Name,” Brick demanded. And then, reluctantly: “…To check you off the Nice List.”

The little girl looked up at him with wide-eyed wonderment, or maybe fear. “Morana.”

“Morana. Super. Tell Todd—I mean, Santa—what you want. And smile for the camera.”

Todd didn’t miss a beat and wrapped his arms loosely around her to hold her safely in place. “Morana, that’s a pretty name. Wanna tell me what you want for Christmas?”

Morana pointed at Brick. “That one.”

Brick turned as red as his messy man bun. Todd wheezed.

“Oh, yeah? Well, that one’s taken, but I bet I can get you a picture together. How ‘bout it?” Todd asked.

Boomer was up and moving in a blue flash. “That can be arranged.” He shoved his brother with a healthy burst of Super strength, and Brick all but fell on his knee next to Todd’s throne. Boomer waved back at Mike for the picture.

“Big smile now!” Mike said cheerfully, and snapped the picture.

“What the hell is up with these kids?” Brick asked when Morana skipped back to her parents and started chattering at them in a language Boomer didn’t recognize but assumed must be all good things from the way she grinned from ear to ear. “They get bolder every year.”

“Or you’re just getting softer,” Boomer teased.

“Yeah, right.”

Blossom laughed at something Hana said on a nearby bench, drawing both their eyes.

“Whatever you say, man,” Boomer said.

xxx

Todd’s party was a nostalgic and long-overdue affair later that evening. Unlike Boomer, who had to make do in a small studio apartment on the outskirts of Citiesville where the rent was more manageable and his commute didn’t matter when flying anywhere took only minutes, Todd lived in a big house he took care of for his often absent, globe-trotting parents. Blossom, Bubbles, and Robin had taken the initiative and strung up Christmas lights, while Boomer created and managed the playlist for the night. They had a good crowd with old friends from high school and new ones from work and college gathered for no excuse other than to have a good time.

Butch, Buttercup, Mike, and Todd had set up beer pong in the basement, where most of the festivities were taking place. As usual, the shit talking and macho bravado had soared to ludicrous heights.

“Come on, BC,” Todd goaded. “Money shot, right here.” He fluffed his Santa beard, the ends of which were damp with beer. Buttercup had one cup left to hit.

“I’m about to straight-up tea bag you with this ping pong ball, Todd, I swear to god.” Buttercup tried to focus on her aim after too many beers and the distraction of Todd’s stupid Santa beard.

“Do it, fucking do it,” Butch said, bobbing on the balls of his feet and slightly manic with the competition and holiday cheer, probably.

“I’m gonna fucking do it!”

“I don’t think you can fucking do it,” Mike said.

“Ohhhhh!” Butch hollered when Buttercup lost her temper and threw the ball too hard. It bounced off Todd’s beard and fell on the floor, leaving the last cup untouched.

“Mike, you cheater!” Buttercup shouted.

Mike burst out laughing.

“All riiiiight, the Toddster’s final shot. You filming, babe?” Todd asked.

Hana, across the table from Boomer, had her phone out and poised. “Kick their asses, Toddy.”

“Yeah, bring it on, Toddy,” Butch jeered.

“Oh, it’s about to be brought.”

“Oh god, please, you peaked in high school,” Buttercup said.

“Hey, he plateaued,” Mike said. “There’s a difference.”

“Just take the damn shot!”

Todd shot, hit the rim of the solo cup, and missed. Buttercup and Butch threw up their hands and whooped. They were still in the game, and the stakes were even higher now.

Boomer squeezed Mike’s arm in a silent excuse and went to change the music…only to find Brick and Blossom making out in the hallway like it was their last night on Earth.

The music was fine, he decided. No need to interrupt Brick and Blossom trying to fuse with the wall and face his brother’s cock blocked wrath. Discreetly, Boomer snapped a picture on his phone and texted it to Bubbles.

[Boomer: Shooketh]

Bubbles’ reply was lightning fast.

[Bubbles: More like shattered!!]

[Bubbles: Better get out of there before they catch you lol 💀]

After another hour (and Brick and Blossom’s reemergence from the wall in one piece with not a hair out of place because god forbid), Boomer and Mike decided to head out early. They went back to Boomer’s apartment, where a very excited Pomeranian welcomed them home.

“Hi, Pumpkin!” Mike brightened like the sun and scooped up his favorite girl, left in Boomer’s care while he was away at college. “Who’s ready for a walk?”

They walked Pumpkin and let her tire herself out running around the suburban neighborhood where it was too late at night for any cars to be out. A half hour later, they were curled up on the loveseat with Pumpkin snoozing in her fuzzy bed at their feet and an old black-and-white Christmas movie playing on low volume on the television.

“Hey,” Boomer said, lifting his head from Mike’s chest to look at him properly.

Mike set aside the hot chocolate he’d been drinking and pulled Boomer up by his waist. “Hey, you. What is it?”

Boomer smiled. It was silly, really. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh?” Mike returned his smile and leaned closer. He smelled like soap, a hint of chocolate, and something else that made Boomer want to bury his face in his neck.

“Just happy,” Boomer said.

“Really? I can’t tell.”

Boomer sat up a little higher. The neck of Mike’s old lacrosse jersey he wore dipped down his shoulder, too big on him and softer than a cloud. He pressed a chaste kiss to the underside of Mike’s jaw. “How about now?”

“Hm, nope, I don’t think I quite got that.”

Boomer threaded his fingers though Mike’s short, dark hair at the nape of his neck. Feeling coquettish, he gave his ear a nip. “How about now?”

Mike shifted on the couch and pulled Boomer’s bent legs onto his lap. His voice was as warm as the hot chocolate he’d been drinking. “I think I’m starting to get a vague understanding.”

Boomer laughed and painted a trail of kisses along Mike’s jaw, up his chin. He pressed a strong hand to his chest and put a little power behind it. Centimeters apart, he could taste the lingering heat of the hot chocolate on Mike’s breath. “And now?”

Mike’s eyes drooped and darkened. His hands slipped around Boomer’s waist, under the jersey, a silent entreaty. “I think you can do a little better than that, Angel.”

The secret nickname broke Boomer’s resolve, and he kissed his boyfriend full on the mouth with all the confidence and shamelessness he couldn’t give him that morning at the mall surrounded by children and their parents. Mike’s shirt soon found its way to the floor along with Boomer’s borrowed jersey. The loveseat was too short to accommodate Mike’s height comfortably, and after a few moments Boomer held him close and flew them to the bed in a flash.

“I’ll never get over how hot that is,” Mike said, breathless.

Boomer blushed, unable to help it. He was careful with his strength around Mike, but sometimes the X bonded to his bones pushed him to the raw, carnal boundaries of humanity. Mike’s hand on his cheek drew him out of those spiraling thoughts.

“I mean it,” Mike said. “I love that part of you. And I trust you completely.”

Words did not come easily, nor did they seem appropriate in that moment. Boomer bent to kiss Mike again and pull him as close as he could get. Wrapped up in the warm sheets and each other, Boomer’s silly little thought that he had never been happier grew and swelled to heights he never could have imagined before Mike. They lay there together, lazy and sleepy, as the credits of their forgotten holiday movie played on the television.

“One more semester,” Mike said, “and then I graduate.”

“I can’t believe you’re almost a college graduate,” Boomer said. “It feels like you left ages ago.”

“Four years is a long time, but it’s not forever. And you should get ready.”

Boomer looked up at him. “Ready for what?”

“To move, of course.”

“Move?”

“Hey, I love how cozy your apartment is, but I’m pretty sure Pumpkin would appreciate her own room once we’re living together full time.”

Boomer sat up properly. “You… You want to move in together? With me?”

“Of course! The only question is, where do you want to go?”

Boomer covered his mouth. Of course he had thought about getting a place with Mike, but that always seemed like the distant future. What if they didn’t stay together? What if the long distance was too hard? What if Mike met someone else at college? Brick didn’t talk about it much, but after a few too many drinks one night the year Blossom and Mike both left for college, he’d confessed how afraid he was that he would lose her forever. How can the old be exciting and fun compared to the amazing, new adventures she would be having?

But from the way Boomer had caught them all but absorbing each other at Todd’s tonight, Blossom seemed perfectly happy to keep him. And Mike…

“You’re serious,” Boomer said.

“I’ve never been more serious.” Mike took his hand and kissed his knuckles carefully. “I can’t wait to start our lives together.”

Boomer could have cried. He almost did. Life was hard, even for a Super like him. With endless bills to pay and the occasional monster to dispose of, sometimes he felt like he was being pulled in too many directions without anyone there to help pick up the slack. But this… This was his.

“Me too,” Boomer said. “And I don’t care where we go, as long as it’s together.”

“Well, cool. In that case, if you’re not opposed to it, was thinking farther north, like Metroville. There are some great photography jobs there that I want to apply for, and the music scene is bigger than it is here—”

“Yes! A hundred percent yes, let’s do it. When do we leave?”

Mike laughed. “June 1st, as soon as they hand me my diploma.”

Six months. It had a date now. Unthinking, Boomer threw his arms around Mike’s broad shoulders and hugged him tight. “I’ll mark my calendar.”

“It’s a date.”

Incidentally, they did not get much sleep the rest of that night.

xxx

I told myself I wasn’t going to do a ton of fluff, but damnit all, Boomike is SUPER CUTE and I couldn’t help myself. Let them have the happy ending they deserve. Thanks for reading!

#PowerPuff Girls #powerpuff girls fanfiction #powerpuff girls fanfic #Blossick #PPG Reds #Boomike #Capri Sus #Todd x Hana #Brick #Boomer #Blossom #Todd #Mike Believe #february fic prompts

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mydarlingklaus · 4 years

Text

A Very Mikaelson Christmas:

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

I know, it's been forever but I've really just been relaxing and taking care of myself the past couple of months but to all my readers for "Black Roses" I DID NOT FORGET ABOUT THE STORY! I will update as soon as possible and I miss it as much as you all do.

This is part 2 to chapter 10 of my klaroline family drabbles: Meeting the Mikaelsons, and occurs before the merge storyline. Link to my ff page can be found here and at the bottom so PLEASE leave a review!

Happy reading :)

"Alright let's go through the list:" Caroline began checking off her clipboard. "Elijah and Freya are on food duty. Marcel is taking care of music, Josie's bake goods are in the oven, Hope and Hayley are finishing the tree and other interior decorations while Kol and Alaric string up the lights outside. Did I miss anything?"

"Yes, like an explanation for why we are doing all of this tedious work when we could have simply hired professionals?" Rebekah blurted from her chair.

Caroline pointed a fake smile at the blonde Original who was casually sipping on a glass of spiked egg nog.

Given that this was the biggest Christmas party she's ever hosted, Caroline tried not to stress too much even over incompetence. This was a joyous time and was determined to make it special. Being an only child with just her mom Caroline never partook in grand holiday gatherings and now, she had two families coming together for the very first time.

"I knew I forgot something, Rebekah you're on table duty." Caroline ordered.

"The hell I am." She snorted before drinking from her glass again.

The baby vampire breathed in and out through her nose to refrain from her fangs latching onto an 1,000 year old being's jugular.

In an attempt to make everything perfect for tonight, Caroline created a schedule of tasks for all the family members to obey, and hers was making sure everyone followed through with their tasks—she didn't count on confronting prissy Mikaelson behavior.

Over a thousand years of existence and they all acted like they never heard of basic chores.

"Last I checked you're apart of this family too which means you have to assist in some way. You can't just drink liquor all day." Caroline scolded.

"Actually I've been doing that just fine, thank you very much." Rebekah grinned raising her glass to the aggravated blonde. "Not to mention I've spent all morning searching for those impossible snowflake place settings you so desperately desired. You're welcome by the way. So from where I'm seated I've done my part."

"If we're being technical, all you did was pick out the pattern from the comfort of her bed while I was the one who actually had to hunt them down." Klaus announced walking into the room, making Caroline exhale into a smile.

She was relieved and happy to see him, not just because she missed his handsome face but because he was the only one capable of talking Rebekah down.

Despite the minor difficulties, Caroline was grateful the girls insisted on bringing thievery one together this year to celebrate Christmas as a family.

Kol flew in from California the night prior, around the same time Rebekah arrived from New York City on her private jet. Alaric had last minute paperwork to finish before handing over the keys of the school to his right-hand-man, Dorian, for remainder of the break—he drove out early that morning, alone.

Alaric finally accepting Klaus as a permanent factor in both Caroline and the girls' lives made their complex situation more graceful.

"I hardly see how that's relevant." Rebekah retorted with an eye roll, amusing her dimpled face brother walking up behind the chair to place his hands on her slumped shoulders.

"It's relevant, little sister, because you haven't lifted a finger since you've been here. This is a family day which means everyone is pitching in, no matter how much we may not want to. You're no exception here. I assure you arranging a few place settings on the table won't break a nail."

She shoved him off. "Oh please, as if you actually care about the holidays when you haven't spent one with us since Hope was wobbling around in bloody diapers."

"Rebekah—"

"You know Nik, It's okay to admit you're only agreeing to such humiliating labor to impress your precious baby vampire. We all already know the truth." She teased, smirking while finishing off her drink. The expression in her eyes could easily get under anyone's skin.

Caroline pressed her lips into a tight line, already sensing Klaus' annoyance beside her.

After all these years of being in Klaus' life—in some capacity—she figured the vindictive Original would have warmed up to her by now.

Obviously, not so much.

"Damnit Rebekah, stop being a brat and just fetch the bloody plate settings." Klaus groaned impatiently.

He shook his head when she childishly stuck her tongue out at him before standing to make her exit towards the kitchen.

"Where are those bloody daggers when I need them?"

Caroline sighed exasperatedly when placing her clipboard on the piano. "Oddly enough, that doesn't sound too bad. I'll forever deny that I ever condoned that."

Klaus laughed under his breath. "Your secret's safe with me."

The blonde's white teeth nibbled on her rose colored bottom lip. Both hands fisted into his black buttoned-down shirt, fingertips teasing the exposed necklaces before she leaned on her tiptoes for a quick but lingering kiss. Lips barely tasting the other before slowly parting, foreheads resting against each other's for a few peaceful seconds.

"Hi." She smiled.

"Hi." He smiled back while tucking her hair behind her ears. "I don't like seeing you stressed."

"Then you're completely unaware of what it's like to have a conversation with you." She teased, kissing his pouty lip sweetly. "But if you were any different I wouldn't want you."

"And what a shame that would be."

Their lips pecked against each other's again before Caroline let out a deep exhale, looking over their Winter wonderland home to see what else needed to be done—there was quite a bit.

"You're still stressing." Klaus said when observing the stress line in her forehead.

Caroline scoffed turning to face him. "Uh, yeah! The tree is only half done, the outdoor lights are probably just slapped on like a pile of meat and did you not just see me pulling teeth just to get your sister to set a damn table!"

He chuckled to himself, kissing her wrinkled forehead and rubbing her arms to calm her.

"Rebekah is the laziest vampire I've ever known and I'm sorry about her behavior but love, she had point. We could've hired professionals to do all of the decorating and cooking in half the time. I have excellent recommendations from our last gathering. Money wouldn't have been an issue if that's what you were worrying about."

"Seriously? Do Mikaelsons know nothing about traditions?" She scoffed.

"Actually no, we don't. To be fair me and my siblings only began liking one another two years ago."

Caroline's lips pursed as she pushed his hands off of her. "This had nothing to do with money, and this isn't just any Christmas, it's our first Christmas with everyone home together and I wanted all of us to embrace all the holiday traditions as a family. Which includes forcing in-laws to do basic household tasks like decorating a damn tree."

"In-laws?" Klaus smirked.

Caroline's cheeks slightly reddened as she accessed the weight of her words. Her sweaty palms rubbed up and down her burgundy bodycon dress hastily.

"Shut up..." She mumbled, slapping his chest when his smirk grew.

"Look, Klaus I may not have grown up with a huge family but I did have a lot of friends who took that place. We decorated trees, hung lights, ate dinner together, drank more alcohol than legally allowed and enjoyed each other's company." She explained somberly. "They stopped me from feeling lonely every year and I always said when I had a family of my own those traditions wouldn't die, and now I do..."

The corners of Klaus's lips turned up into a soft grin at her shy doe blue eyes staring up at him through her thick lashes.

Klaus stepped forward, grabbing her by the hips. "I like this."

"What, my distress or me bossing you around?" She teased relaxing into his hold around her waist.

"You being in my family." He clarified. "I like that you're mine and hearing you consider this your home. You'll never be alone, love and I'm very much looking forward to many, many more Christmases to come with all the ridiculous traditions attached."

A warm smile made its way to her face as she observed the genuine contentment on his.

It was just as surreal for her too, but for Klaus to go centuries spending every holiday alone to now sharing it with an entire family, she knew how much these moments meant to him. But she was just as eager to spend the rest of eternity with him too.

Her hands reached up to his face to bring him in for a quick but effective kiss

She moaned into his mouth when he unexpectedly gripped her sides, tongues brushing as they stole a few more of these rare moments.

They were both dazed as Caroline pulled away.

"Thank you. I guess I'm kinda into you." She smiled while wiping her lipstick off his bottom lip with her thumb.

Klaus responded with another kiss, this one more urgent and than the last. His hand placements more determined and certain as squeezed her hips, riding up the skirt of her burgundy dress.

Caroline giggled against his lips.

"Nope. We can't right now..." She whispered, trying to show some restraint inspire of her body's craving.

"Come now love, I haven't had a second alone with you all day. Indulge me." He persisted, pulling her closer against his hard chest.

"There's still so much to do..." Her defenses slowly falling.

"That'll all get done momentarily. Besides, we are currently standing underneath a mistletoe. We must comply with all holiday traditions. Isn't that what you said?"

Caroline appeared slightly bewildered when looking up at the festive plant hanging over them, not remembering hanging it up there before peering down at her smirking hybrid. The inner conflict roaming in her head already a thing of the past when her hungry eyes made contact with his full bottom lip.

"Rules are rules." She agreed breathlessly, her arms now wrapped around his neck she happily succumbed to the surrender.

Not beating his tongue from invading her mouth and fingers scrunching up her dress as the oral exchange deepened into a more passionate frenzy.

Her sexual appetite no better than his, especially when being deprived of each other for longer than 10 minutes.

"Oh for fuck sake! Would you two get a room already?"

With a low groan, the couple detached their lips but remained wrapped in each other's arms despite Kol's rude interruption.

"Certainly. Every room in this house belongs to me after all." Klaus announced.

Kol tilted his head with a smile, leaning against the living room's wall with a glass of liquor in his hand and ankles crossed.

"I'm no prude and usually would be helping myself to the view of your public display of affection, however, someone has to save my precious nieces from the emotional scarring." He claimed. "Not to mention, I've been tortured enough today from hanging bloody Christmas lights with that moronic human all day. Last thing I need is a floor show featuring Caroline where I'm not participating."

The blonde's cheeks suddenly a deeper shade of blush pink while she held Klaus back by his chest.

"Say anything even remotely offensive towards her again and I'll rip out your heart through your throat. Understood?"

The younger Mikaelson grin spread menacingly at the beading gold hue in Klaus' eyes.

"Is it a proper Mikaelson gathering without a few death threats? Happy holidays to you too, brother." Kol lifted his glass to the couple before skipping out the room.

"Remind me to snap his neck while he's sleeping tonight." Klaus groaned.

"I don't get why you're still bothered by his remarks after all these years. You know how he is and how much he loves getting under your skin because you make it so easy. He's harmless."

"More like a pest." He scoffed. "And his habitual inappropriate comments towards you doesn't make it right Caroline and quite frankly, I'm over it. Why did you to invite him anyways?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Because I invited the entire family and last I checked he's your baby brother, who you've missed more than you want to admit."

"Debatable." Klaus muttered, causing Caroline to laugh as she trapped his lips with hers for a sweet kiss.

"Better?"

He smirked against her lips. "With you? Always."

Playfully rolling her eyes, she twirled away from his greedy hands.

"And speaking of the girls Lizzie just texted that she and Sebastian are about ten minutes away." Caroline informed, deflating Klaus' smile.

"Yes, how could I forget we allowed our naive 17 year old daughter to go on a solo road trip with a boy three centuries older than her." Klaus muttered.

"She's not alone."

His eyes narrowed at her teasing tone. "Caroline."

She giggled, fixing the collar of his shirt. "Lighten up. I thought we talked about this. You said you were going to stand down as overprotective dad when it came to the girls love lives."

"They're only 17 and 18 years old. They're not allowed to have love lives, especially with boys as old as I am." Klaus scolded.

"Weren't you the one who was more than thrilled to agree to Sebastian spending Christmas here?"

Klaus' face scrunched. " 'Thrilled' is a bit of a reach, love. More like you and Lizzie ambushed me with the invitation. I'd agree to anything for her to be here even if it meant agreeing to undesirables staying in my home."

The baby vampire's eyes narrowed. "Don't you think you're being a bit dramatic?"

"Dramatic?" His eyes widened. "Caroline, this ancient boy popped out of nowhere. Has shown a sudden interest in our very young and vulnerable daughter after knowing her for what, a few days? And has her so mind-warped he even managed to convince her to let him spend the bloody holidays in our family sanctuary. He's a stranger to all of us, so forgive me for being a bit skeptical."

Letting go of his collar Caroline took a step back, letting out a loud huff as she combed her fingers through her golden tresses frustratingly.

"If I say something you don't like, promise you won't throw a fit and ruin Christmas?"

"You think I'm being paranoid." He concluded for her.

She nodded while crossing her arms. "Yes, and unreasonable, and a bit of an ass."

"An ass?" His eyebrow quirked up.

"Very much so. Babe, I love you. I know you have nothing but good intentions when it comes to the girls but you need to stop. You have to trust them."

"I do. I've told you multiple times that was never the issue Caroline and you know it. Can't believe you're still insinuating otherwise." He barked.

"Seriously?" She scoffed. "Klaus look how you're reacting right now. It's Christmas! We're supposed to be cheerful and loving towards each other, not insulting and yelling. You try chalking up this behavior to being an overprotective parent but it's more than that. Deep down you don't trust that Lizzie can handle herself."

"You know that's not true." He claimed defensively.

"When you describe her as 'vulnerable' and 'naive' it sorta weakens your claim. It makes me feel like you don't trust me either when I keep reassuring you that everything's fine."

Klaus' features softened as he observed the clear irritation and concern on her face. The wrinkle in her forehead that swigged out whenever they argued shined in all its adorable glory, but for the first time he wasn't delighted to see it.

There was no one in the world he trusted more.

"Car-"

She raised her hand when he tried to step towards her.

"You're an amazing father Klaus, the best even. 90% of the time you're everything they need, and I try to not be jealous about it." Caroline confessed. "But that 10% is for who they are as young women, the parts of themselves they're not comfortable sharing with you. That's where I step in and give them all the advice you can't, like boys and hormones. Hard to believe but there are some things even Klaus Mikaelson isn't an expert on."

Klaus swallowed, feeling more guilty and ridiculous by the second despite Caroline's attempt at lightening the situation with a smile.

"Lizzie is doing good. She's stable and happy for the first time in so long and has no interests of messing up her progress. I know you worry and want to protect her but if she's ever going to be the free-spirited adventurer you always imagined her to be, you have to let her grow on her own. Let her make mistakes and be as normal of a teenager as she can. Believe me when I say nothing ruins the relationship between a father and daughter more than telling her she can't see the boy she likes."

Klaus winced imagining his bond with Lizzie being served over something as irrelevant as a stupid vampire boy.

Being in control of all aspects of his life was how he refrained from completely losing his mind. He was a leader, King of the French Quarter kingdom but these weren't his hybrid soldiers he could command—they were his family.

He nearly lost one daughter for not being there when she needed him, he couldn't make that same mistake with another—no matter the intentions.

"Bloody hell..." he groaned, tugging at his curls. "I've been a proper prick, haven't I?"

Caroline's eyes shifted upwards, pretending to ponder. "Only a little." She said while making Klaus lightly chuckle under his breath.

Biting her bottom lip she cautiously stepped towards him.

"We're not welcoming him into the family, just getting to know him. He makes Lizzie happy so we owe it to her to at least give him a chance." She said, grabbing his hands into hers and caressing the base with her thumb, feeling all the built up tension slowly being released from his body and the situation.

He tilted her chin up, making her crystallized blues peer into his. Her hands rested on his biceps while his free one tightly wrapped around her waist.

"I do trust you, more than anyone. Please tell me you know that." Klaus desperately pleaded.

Her eyes wandered his worried face and heart ached at his desperate tone.

Over the course of their relationship Caroline felt she had to jump through multiple hoops to smother Klaus with reassurance. Deep down she understood his insecurities about their relationship—if she was confident in choosing him and not hating herself for it—but she had some of her own as well, especially when it came to being a good mother.

Caroline slowly nodded.

"I know, but it's nice to hear you say it too." A soft smile made its way to her face.

Her arms circled around him before pulling her hybrid in for a kiss that dissipated the claustrophobic tension.

Klaus squeezed her hips as the kiss transitioned from languidly and slow to passionate and purposeful.

Their lips, warm and soft as they exhaled into each other's mouths. Standing underneath the mistletoe without a care in the world of who in their nosey family could walk in on them.

They were each other's last eternal love and were not going to hide it from anyone—especially during the happiest time of the year.

Caroline gripped his biceps again, softly moaning as she opened her mouth to him and Klaus was all too eager to comply to the request.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

The doorbell rang before their tongues could even touch.

"Ignore it." Klaus groaned while going in for another kiss.

"We can't just ignore the door." She weakly retorted as their lips hovered.

"Sweetheart there's a at least six other people in this house. Let them feel useful." He mused when his thumb released her bottom lip from the clutches of her teeth.

Caroline was on the verge of complying until the buzz of her cell phone on the piano distracted them both.

"What is with all the bloody interruptions?" Klaus groaned.

The baby vampire giggled as she wiggled out of his embrace to check the bright screen.

"Our daughter is the interruption. She and Sebastian are right outside. Try to play nice." Caroline encouraged, grinning into another quick kiss before walking towards the front door.

Klaus felt a surge of panic run through his body as he watched from afar as Caroline opened the door.

Her face lighting up at the sight of the young blonde girl in the doorway, pulling her teeth in for a tight hug that visibly embarrassed Lizzie but he knew deep down she appreciated it.

A small smile began forming at the corners of his lips watching them together, knowing they were two of the four lights of his life—his forever love and daughter both under the same roof with him again. For the first time all day he felt whole, finally having all his girls together again, even if it was only briefly.

Family was something Klaus never took advantage of, not anymore.

He tried to focus on the tender moment playing out in front of him instead of the the smirking brunette boy standing beside Lizzie in the doorway.

Klaus' smile faded and fists clenched when Sebastian greeted Caroline with a kiss on both cheeks.

This was the first time he had actually seen the other vampire fully.

No denying he was originated from a different era, based on his ruffled white shirt, boots and blazer like a pirate. Lizzie explained that Sebastian was desiccated as a teenager but he still had a mature aura that made Klaus uncomfortable. His features so sharp and defined, it made him seem much older than he claimed. Too mature for a newly 17 year old girl to be with—Klaus thought.

"And these are for you, Headmistress Forbes. Elizabeth informed me that you fancy white lilies."

Klaus overheard the youngster using his charm on Caroline and based on her flattered reaction and an 'aw you didn't have to' quickly following, it seemed to be working.

-I hate this.

Klaus's chest compressed as the three began walking towards him with beaming smiles on all faces except the boy. Instantly noticing the young couple's fingers interlocked together while Lizzie and Caroline talked and Sebastian's eyes wandered around the mansion curiously.

-I really hate this...

He let out a deep exhale as a smile shaped his lips as the enthusiastic young witch skipped into his arms.

"Merry Christmas Klaus!" Lizzie beamed as their hug tightened.

The nerves that had piled up in Klaus' throat dissipated at the warm greeting from just one of the four lights in his life. It was difficult to imagine the centuries he went without physical affection given how habitual the act was now.

It had barely been two months since he last saw Lizzie but it felt like forever now that she was back home—her real home.

Rubbing her back and kissing the top of her head, Klaus slightly pulled away with one arm still around her.

"Merry Christmas sweetheart. How was the drive?"

"Great. I mean, Uncle Damon's burnt down Camaro is as ancient as he is and I nearly broke a nail operating the stick shift, but overall no complaints."

Klaus nodded his head, making a mental note to dispose of the Salvatore hand-me-down and buy Lizzie a brand new car.

"All that matters is that you're finally here safe and sound." Caroline beamed as she hugged her once more. "Everyone else is probably in the kitchen, slacking on their tasks but they'll be happy to see you."

Expecting everyone to follow her to the room but instead stood in confusion as no one moves.

Lizzie's feet stayed planted, biting her lip anxiously while pulling at the fabric of her white sweater like she wanted to rip it in half

"Um actually, before the rest of our dysfunctional family joins in on all the awkward fun that is to surely take place, I want to officially introduce someone to both of you first."

Klaus felt like the wind was knocked out of him when she took a step backwards to join the young vampire's side. Trying to keep his temper at bay when their hands joined again.

"This is Sebastian. He's a new student at the boarding school and my...my boyfriend." She timidly announced.

Another punch to the core.

Klaus' face was neutral but his body was stiff as a board from the pent up frustration that came with watching your child grow up right in front of you.

He tried to keep in mind the conversation he and Caroline just shared—easier said than done.

"It's nice to officially meet you Sebastian. We've heard great things about you. We're glad you were able to spend Christmas with us." Caroline greeted him.

"No, I'm the grateful one for you Headmistress. Not just for allowing me into your home for the holidays but also enrolling me into the school at the last minute. I see where Elizabeth gets her generosity from." Sebastian charmed.

Klaus' eyes couldn't roll harder, even more from how much Caroline was actually being affected by such mediocre charm. Her bright smile and modest blush that were once only preserved for him now being used on a amateur immortal with accent was sickening.

"It's an honor to finally put a face to the name, sir." Sebastian said with a nervous closed-lipped smile, stepping forward with his hand out.

Klaus stared down at the boy's hand, studied it like it was a foreign object as the three impatiently waited for him to make the next move. A handshake was final, a sign of respect and approval—he definitely didn't approve of him just yet.

He didn't like like this boy and if it were up to him his heart would be rolling in the ice cold snow for even gazing in Lizzie's direction. But he owed it to both Lizzie, and Caroline, to prove he trusted her.

Drawing out a dramatic exhale through his nose, Klaus uncrossed his arms as he locked eyes with the immortal boy. His jaw set and body tense when engulfing Sebastian's hand in a death grip, finally reciprocating the formal gesture.

"Um, Lizzie why don't we go find a nice vase to put these lilies in." Caroline suggested.

"You mean leave them alone, together?" Lizzie laughed. "Yeah, thanks but no thanks mom. I would prefer to return to Mystic Falls with my boyfriend in one piece."

Klaus chuckled at the nervous gulp dropping down Sebastian's throat.

"Sweetheart I promise, I won't kill him. Go on." He assured her with a sinister smile he usually wore before ripping out someone's spleen.

Relieved when she reluctantly followed Caroline out of the room, he set his focus back on the bug-eyed vampire in front of him.

"Unlucky for you I'm not big on keeping promises." Klaus gripped Sebastian's hand even harder—making him wince in pain and jerking himself forward.

"Mister Mikaelson—"

"Except when it comes to my family." Klaus added. "You'd be wise to remember the only reason your limbs aren't scattered around the bloody bayou and heart remains in your chest is because of Lizzie."

Sebastian frantically nodded, groaning from the pulsating ache in his right hand when Klaus finally released it from his hold.

Klaus took a step back, dipping his hands into his pants pockets as he watched the vampire boy massage his own hand. The vampire boy who was spending the next couple of days under his roof, charming his family. The vampire boy who captured Lizzie's heart and knowing there was nothing he could do about it—to protect her.

He sighed looking down at his shoes. "Do you care about her?"

Sebastian paused for a few seconds before nodding his head.

Klaus pressed his lips into a straight line as he walked dangerously slow towards the boy. "Usually I wouldn't tell a stranger this but you're not someone I consider a threat, Lizzie means everything to me. There is absolutely nothing I wouldn't do for her and that includes torturing and mutilating anyone who dares to hurt her in anyway. Understood?"

The vampire gulped when he tripped over the carpet, now realizing how close their chests were to each other's and his back to the wall.

"She's been through quite a lot in her short life and doesn't need an ancient delinquent ruining how far she's come. So I ask again, do you care about her?"

"Me and Elizabeth had our issues in the beginning, I'll admit." Sebastian shamefully confessed. "I—I did hurt her, rather cruelly, and by all unknown good graces she found it in herself to forgive me and grant us a second chance. Deep down I know I don't deserve the your daughter's love and care but, she's the first person in centuries who sees me as a man instead of a monster. Who thinks I'm worth a second chance. It'd be senseless of me to not see what this could become and the past couple of months have proven the future to be bright. So yes, Mister Mikaelson I care about Elizabeth immensely and will leave before I ever hurt her again."

The hybrid shook his head, a small laugh following after. "I know that story, all too well." Cleared the emotional lump in his throat.

It felt like looking into the mirror of he and Caroline's journey. How they originated in hate and hurt. The amount of chances she gave him, the way they saw each other in ways no one else could and the frogs she had to kiss along the way before choosing him as her forever.

Not that Klaus was rallying for this boy to steal Lizzie away, but he was beginning to understand the their draw to one another. Thankfully they wouldn't have to face similar challenges but there were sure to be new ones, and he'd be there by her side—if she needed him.

"Well, I will say I appreciate your honesty."

"I didn't want my first impression to be based under false pretenses." Sebastian grinned with a shrug. "Though she tells me not to worry, your opinion about me does matter. The Headmistress as well but from what Elizabeth has told me, you two are quite close. She values your insights and opinions more than anyone's. Given your infamous and intimidating reputation, it was actually less awkward meeting you than the hairy mortal with a crossbow."

Klaus threw his head back, laughing hysterically.

"You should've seen when he actually tried using that contraption on me. Free comic relief. I'm sure he has one with your name on it as well."

Sebastian snickered. "Yes, actually he's already threatened me with it a few times. Threats and all, I'm glad she has a family who cares about her to this extent. It's refreshing...to someone who is foreign to such familial love."

Klaus understood this boy better than he'd ever admit.

Sighing, Klaus placed his hands in his pants pockets again.

"Come on. It's going to be a long weekend and you haven't even scratched the surface of meeting our entire family."

Link to my ff page. Thanks!

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #klaroline fanfiction #fanfiction #klaroline fandom #klaus x caroline #caroline x klaus #my writing #klaroline shippers club #lizzie saltzman-forbes mikaelson #fluff #kcedits #legacies #sizzie #the originals #Lizzie saltzman #legaciesedit

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mypassionfortrash · 4 years

Text

Biology lessons (part one)

After parents’ evening doesn’t go according to plan, Roger schedules in some one-to-one time with you – his son’s biology teacher. Roger wants to brush up on his biology knowledge and you quickly realise that he’s a very hands-on learner.

Pairing: Roger Taylor x f!Reader Warnings: Implied smut; STRICTLY 18+ Notes: Just a cheeky one-shot inspired by some dad!Roger thirsting. This’ll have two parts, maybe more if people respond well to it. If you’ve enjoyed this and want to be tagged, please let me know. And if you made it to the end of this chapter, please be a courteous reader and reblog it or leave feedback!

Tags: @jennyggggrrr @wineandwanderings @scorpiogemini

Parents' evening. Arguably the worst part of your job. One after the other, parents would file in and out of your classroom. Some of them liked to think they knew how to do your job better than you. Others felt that their kids could do no wrong. Some parents couldn't even be bothered to show up.

That was the case with your last appointment of the night – Mr Taylor. So, exhausted and dying to get home, you packed up and left.

The following morning, you arrived at work and sank down behind your desk with a cup of coffee and some last-minute marking. But something caught your eye. Propped up on your pen pot was a crisp white piece of paper. It had your name on it. And you recognised that scrawled, slanted handwriting; it belonged to Angela from the office. Straightening out the note, you read it: 'Rufus' dad ran late. He's furious. Call him asap.'

Puffing out your cheeks, you smacked the note back down on the desk. It was too early for this. You picked up the phone and jabbed out the phone number. It rang three times before someone picked up.

"Hello?" a groggy voice said. "What do you want? It's half-seven."

"I'm sorry, Mr Taylor. It's Rufus' biology teacher here. I think I might have missed you last night."

"Biology teacher? A bloody time waster is what you are! I was twenty minutes late with the music teacher. Couldn't you have held on?"

The thing was, you didn't even know that Rufus' dad had shown up to parents' evening anyway. He hadn't actually bothered to sign in at reception. But now wasn't the time to tell him he was in the wrong. "I'm really sorry about that again, Mr Taylor. Do you still want to speak to me."

"Oh, I suppose so," he sighed.

"Are you busy just now?"

"It's half-past seven."

"Right," you agreed, glancing down at your watch. You mentally kicked yourself for that. "When are you free?"

"When's lunch for you?"

You rolled your eyes. You had a million and one other things to do on your lunch break, and dealing with Mr Taylor, as delightful as he was, didn't factor very highly on that list. "Twelve-thirty until quarter past one. But I don't have a class until two."

His voice perked up. "Just in case I'm late?"

"You said it, not me."

"I'll be there at twelve-thirty. On the dot."

"Good."

"I'll see you then, Mr Taylor."

"I look forward to it."

Slamming the phone down, you decided to wander down to the staff room for another cup of coffee. You figured you would need it after agreeing to prolong the parents' evening agony. When you walked in, you were greeted by the usual familiar faces. Half of them were so organised that it pained you to listen to them. The other half loved to gossip and arrived at work early to do precisely that. As you flicked on the kettle and spooned a heap of cheap instant coffee into your mug, something caught your attention.

"…And did you speak to Rufus' dad last night?"

"Oh! Don't get me started on Mr Taylor!"

"Those big, sad eyes. Gorgeous hair that I'd just love to…"

"I'm telling you if I were his wife, I'd never let him out of my sight!"

"Well that's the thing, I heard she left him!"

"Never?!"

"It's true. It was all over the papers. Big scandal."

"I wish I had known that last night…"

You knew exactly who was speaking. You tried your hardest to ignore it. To just pour your coffee and go. But on your way out, they caught you. Ms Ferguson from Art and Miss Hunter from English. Right as your hand grasped the door handle, their voices made you wince.

"You were supposed to speak to Rufus' dad last thing, weren't you?"

"Was that where you disappeared to?"

You turned around to look at them. "He was running late. So I left."

"You were missing out!"

"I'm sure I was," you said, grimacing as you left the room.

As your last class before lunch filed out of the lab, you noticed Angela linger at the doorway. But you couldn't resist being drawn to the man standing beside her; absentmindedly tousling his fingers through his messy blonde hair and looking bored to death and effortlessly cool in his button-up shirt and skintight jeans. There was no mistaking him. He was Rufus' dad.

After introductions, you and Roger sat down in silence on opposite sides of your desk. You shuffled through your pile of report cards and notes from the night before, attempting to concentrate on anything but how snug that denim looked on him. "I'll try to make this quick for you, Mr Taylor. You must be a busy man," you began, skimming over Rufus' report card.

"Please, call me Roger," he said, rolling up his sleeves and shooting you a wink. "I've got all the time in the world… especially for you."

You glanced down at the report card again, hoping your face wasn't giving away your embarrassment. "Look, Mr Taylor, there's no easy way of saying this. Rufus isn't doing too well in my class."

Roger's eyes widened. "Oh boy."

You almost felt bad for Rufus. He was a pleasant enough kid. "He doesn't pay attention, and he's… unruly. Doesn't do his homework. Constantly chats away in class. I'm really concerned he might be falling behind. I get it, biology isn't for everyone, and I know he has other ideas, but I need to make sure all of my students are getting the most that they can out of each class."

"I mean it's not hard to see why he'd be distracted." Roger grinned, gesturing towards you. "He's a bit of a chip off the old block,"

Sitting up straight, you tried a different tactic. "Mr Taylor, I really want to see your son do well and I'd appreciate it if you took this as seriously as I do."

Roger nodded. "Right. Right… you're right."

"We've got lots of opportunities for extra tuition. We're actually running an Easter school this year during the holidays. That might help Rufus to catch up."

The corner of Roger's mouth twitched. "Are you going to be there?"

Slotting your fingers together in front of you, you leaned forward. "I'm going to be taking some of the classes, yes."

"Good," he said, leaning back in his chair. He looked like he was analysing every detail of your appearance. "Good. I'm sure I – Rufus, I mean – could make it."

"Is there anything you would like to bring to my attention, Mr Taylor?"

Roger's teeth sank into his lower lip as his eyes batted back and forth beneath his half-moon glasses. You couldn't help but notice just how blue they were. "You know," he began, scratching the back of his neck. "I studied biology at uni. Maybe I could help him?"

"That sounds like a fantastic idea."

"I'm a bit rusty, though. As you can imagine, that was a long time ago," he smirked. "I might need a bit of extra tuition myself." An awkward hush dangled in the air between you. Did you just mishear him? Before you could muster a dry comeback, Roger cleared his throat. "You know… just so I know what I'm talking about. Where are we up to?"

"Um…" you hesitated. If you cracked an egg on your face at that moment, it would have fried in seconds. You swallowed hard and looked Roger dead in the eye: "Reproduction."

Roger's face lit up with a devilish grin that forced his lips wide apart. "Right. Survival of the fittest? The strongest, most successful male gets the female?"

"Not quite, but I'm sure you'd know a thing or two about all of that," you muttered before you could think.

Roger was quick to blurt back. "You know drummers have exceptional stamina?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Is that right?"

"It's an excellent workout."

You just couldn't resist digging yourself even further into that hole. "I can think of better workouts to test your stamina."

"How long did you say you had again?"

"I have until two, why?"

"Just… thought you could give me a bit of extra tuition. Just now. So that I can get to work teaching Rufus about the birds and the bees as it were." Roger pretended to be meek, darting around what he really wanted.

But you knew he had been checking you out since the second he stepped into your classroom. And who were you to pass up an opportunity like this? It had been a while since anyone checked you out, or did anything more for that matter. "Extra tuition?" you repeated slowly, widening your eyes.

Roger's thigh went limp, swaying off to the side in a casual kind of way. You couldn't resist gawping at how his jeans strained at his crotch. "That's right," he smirked. Even the way that he absentmindedly chewed at the skin around his fingernails while he looked at you made you forget how to breathe.

"I mean… I'm sure I can give you a copy of the curriculum and the learning outcomes," you began, fumbling with the sheets of paper on your desk, suddenly remembering that he was a parent. And you were a teacher. You couldn't risk it, could you? "And Rufus has a textbook, I'm sure you can…"

"I'm actually more of a hands-on learner. It might be helpful if you could walk me through the unit on reproduction in person. It's been a while since I…" He paused, fighting back a small laugh. "Reproduced."

"Of course. I need to actually prepare for my next class," you wittered, handing Roger a bundle of notes to sift through. "Some other time, maybe?"

The look of wild excitement wiped off of Roger's features. Now he just seemed concerned. "I'm sorry if I–" he began, standing up.

"It's fine," you said as you ushered him towards the door. "You're not the first to throw the odd innuendo my way." Lingering just at the door, you and Roger stood inches away from each other. The smell of his aftershave drew you closer, and the little details – the laughter lines and patches of sunburn – on his face held you there. "You have the school's number if you need anything else?" Inching the door open, you averted your gaze.

"And my offer still stands about that extra tuition," he said with a coy tap on your shoulder.

"I'll bear that in mind."

"Well, it was lovely meeting you."

"And you, Mr Taylor. Hopefully I'll see you again at Easter school."

Roger was halfway into the empty corridor when he looked back at you. "Oh, you will. Don't worry."

Closing the door and leaning against it, only then did you realise how ferociously your heart pounded. You could feel every breath hitch in your throat as you tried to unscramble your feelings. You raked your fingers through your hair. You could still hear Roger's footsteps echo down the hallway. You had everything to lose from this. But that didn't stop you from going after him.

"Mr Taylor!" you called, sprinting down the hallway on legs that felt like jelly. "Mr Taylor! Wait!"

Roger was barely a foot away from the front door when he turned around, smirking.

You stopped in your tracks, glancing around for prying eyes. Then you tried to regain your composure as much as you possibly could. "I…" you trailed off, searching for a reasonable excuse to drag him back to your classroom. "You've forgotten something, Mr Taylor."

"Have I?" He raised his eyebrows.

He might have played dumb, but Roger followed hot on your heels as you marched back to the lab. You could already feel your insides starting to churn at the thought of what was about to happen, but you were helpless to stop it.

When you got back to the classroom, you locked the door behind you, leaving you alone with the dull chatter from the playground outside streaming in from the window. Roger waited in the middle of the room, glancing around at the diagrams on the walls as he trailed his fingertips over the edge of one of the benches. You were about three steps behind what you wanted to happen; taking deep breaths with your back to the door. Sussing out your next move. "Someone might see us," you murmured. Then you made a beeline for the cupboard at the back of the room. "Come on, in here."

Roger's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as he crammed himself inside, pressing up against your body and closed the door behind him. His hands found their way to your waist as if by sheer instinct. But for the first time since he arrived in your classroom, he looked just a tad more serious, peering down at you over the rims of his glasses. "Are you sure about this?"

"You're not?" You raised an eyebrow. "Those eyes of yours haven't stopped straying since the second you met me. Now cut the bullshit, Mr Taylor."

Off the back of that bold move, you could have died when he so nonchalantly reached up and unfastened the buttons on your blouse. He didn't even change a shade. "Just don't want you getting in trouble is all."

"I won't if no one catches us."

Roger was already peppering kisses along your jawline, rendering you utterly at his mercy. All you could do was grasp at his hair. "I'll try not to make you scream too loudly then."

That was a goddamn lie. You could already tell that he wasn't going to hold back. The way his lips crashed against yours told you that much. You were too distracted by Roger's efforts to move. You had to fight to drive your hands lower, tentatively dragging your nails down Roger's chest. Lower still, down to his belt. Unbuckling it. Making for his zipper.

But he kept his lips locked on yours, eager to distract you from his hands hiking up your skirt. Pressing his fingertips into your thighs so harshly you'd probably bruise. When he realised he was touching your bare skin, something clicked in his brain. He pulled away, his lips swollen and pink and breathless, and glanced down. "Stockings?" he grinned. "God, I wish we had teachers like you back in my day."

"That's just a bit weird," you giggled and rolled your eyes.

"Oh, is that something you just save for the parents?" he asked, delivering a smack to your bottom.

"Only the rich, handsome ones."

Roger chuckled, slowly closing the gap between you both again. But then you were forced apart by the shrill sound of the bell. The end of lunchtime.

"Fuck," you hissed under your breath. You smoothed down your skirt and buttoned up your blouse.

Roger scowled, leaning back against the wall, almost sending a shelf full of beakers toppling over. "Well, that's a shame," he said, springing on the balls of his feet.

"You're telling me."

"Maybe some other time?" Roger suggested. He had a coy, hopeful look on his face.

"Yeah. Sure," you sighed, breezing out into the classroom. "You really should get going. Some of the older kids sometimes drop in when they have free periods. This has been… Nice."

Roger seemed taken aback, but nevertheless, he followed you to the door and kept up the act when you opened it out on to a bustling corridor. "I'll speak to Rufus about Easter school. Maybe I can bribe him with one of those violent computer games or something. Make sure he behaves, just for you."

"Thank you for your time, Mr Taylor."

After Roger left, you spent the rest of the day, and well into the night, torturing yourself with thoughts of what might have happened between you and Roger if you hadn't been so rudely interrupted. Wondering if he could play just as filthy as he talked. If he fucked as good as he looked. But then, you also wondered how you were going to look poor Rufus in the eye. After all, he was in your first class the following day.

At a quarter to nine, a steady stream of tired, grumpy teenagers invaded the lab and perched themselves behind each bench. As usual, Rufus straggled a good ten minutes behind his classmates. You were already at the board, going through yesterday's homework when he came in and tapped you on the shoulder.

"Dad told me to give you this, Miss," he said, handing you an envelope with your name on it. Feeling warmth surge to your cheeks, you glanced out at the room, hoping none of your students somehow knew about what happened in the cupboard. "That's fine, Rufus. Go and sit down."

"Aren't you going to tell me off for being late?" he prodded.

"I'll let it slide this time." Then you turned your attention to the rest of the room. "Answers are up on the board; swap jotters. Mark each others' work."

Slipping your fingers underneath the seal, you pulled out the piece of paper inside. Your heart raced, and your eyes widened with every word.

'Dinner?

'Friday?

'You should have my number.

'Let me know,

'Mr T.

'P.S: Wear those stockings.'

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

Friendly reminder: you’ve made it this far! Congratulations! Please, if you enjoyed reading this fic, reblog it.

You spent 20 minutes reading this for free. I spent six hours on this (I currently have about £500 in freelance writing work that I could’ve done). I love writing fanfiction, but it’s really demoralising to rarely get feedback, and for tumblr’s algorithm to bury posts because no one shares them. And honestly, I don’t want to guilt you, but I’m kind of close to quitting sharing my writing on here because of it.

So please, support writers. Reblog fics (even if you don’t think you have a lot of followers)! Leave feedback (even just a key smash, don’t be shy)! I’d really appreciate it and I’m sure other authors would, too!

>>NEXT CHAPTER>>

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor #queen #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor fic #queen fic

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copperbadge · 4 years

Text

swords-n-spindles re: oktoberfest pie

German who lived in Munich for 25 years here. Am wheezing in horror at this pie abomination. Also the opinion of locals about the Wiesn (yeah, nobody but tourists says Oktoberfest, sorry) is both "horribly overpriced spectacle for tourists, work makes us go each year, we hate it, make it stop" and "that's OUR party, of course we're going, it's tradition, here are seventeen paragrafs on where to get the best Brathendl".

Oh! So kind of like the Christmas Market in Chicago. “Don’t go, it’s horrible, but if you do there is only ONE CORRECT PLACE to get potato pancakes. Wait, I’d better go with you, I do need to do some holiday shopping.”

thegollux re: dumplings

serious question: what is the benefit to pre-cooking half of the chicken stuffing. this feels like food poisoning waiting to happen.

It’s actually a way of keeping the filling cohesive inside the wrapper while avoiding food poisoning! :D

So, the thing is, when raw ground meat is boiled or steamed inside a wrapper like this, it coheres into a little meatball inside the wrapper, so it doesn’t just fall apart all over your plate when you bite in. But in order to fully cook ground meat inside a wrapper, you generally have to cook the dumpling until the wrapper is way overcooked, making it gummy or tough.

There are other solutions, like binding the meat up with egg or a sauce, but they don’t give quite that same texture, and can get difficult to wrap, so the solution is to cook SOME of the meat, so some is already pre-cooked, and leave just enough raw to hold the rest together while it boils/steams. You don’t have to cook as long to be sure the meat is fully cooked through, but you also don’t get the “this turned into a pile of crumbled meat on my plate” issue.

spaci1701 re: dumplings

I'm very jealous. I've only got a hand cranked pasta roller and it's very challenging to roll sheets by yourself - just not enough hands. The best part of doing your own filled pasta is that you can make all the really weird filling combos you want. So far my fave has been Sheppard's pie pierogi.

That sounds amazing!

Yeah, Mum asked if I was sure I didn’t just want a countertop version, where the same amount of money could buy me a wider roller, and I said that it came down to hands -- if you’re cranking with one hand and feeding with the other, you need a third hand to catch the dough.

junker5 re: dumplings

Does your mixer have a name? He looks like he has an awesome personality, like DumE orSci’s Calcifer! 😊 The dumplings look amazing.

LOL! No, I never bothered naming him -- I usually only name things if I’m going to be referencing them in conversation with other people, and I never got into the habit of whimsically naming things because in high school I would do that and whatever I had named would break, so I stopped :D

geekgirl76 re: dumplings

Yum! Side question, how do you like your soda stream? I'm a carbonated water junkie and I'm seriously considering one, even though I have a rule about no appliances that use propriatrary inserts. (though, with the internet, I suppose that's not as big a deal as it used to be, someone, somewhere would either start selling them or create a hack.)

There are definitely adaptors you can buy to hook it up to a non-proprietary CO2 canister, but between the perils of dealing with pressurized canisters and the inconvenience, I’ve never bothered. Sodastream makes it super easy to return your canisters (the only issue right now is supply) so I don’t mind if I’m paying a slight convenience fee for that. Now, that said, you also have to buy proprietary water bottles, some of which aren’t dishwasher-safe, and you’re supposed to replace them every 2-3 years, and those aren’t cheap, so bear that in mind. (If you want the machine washable ones, you have to buy a specific type that only fit a certain number of the machines, so do your homework before buying.)

I do like my sodastream -- that’s their cheapo version and I’ve had it for 10 years, which tells you something about its durability. Especially if you don’t care about flavoring and just want carbonated water, it’s great. The flavor syrups are hit and miss; a lot of them for me have an acrid aftertaste, and again supply right now can be an issue. But the nice thing about having plain carbonated water is you can make your own flavorings. I often make super-concentrated tea and add a shot of that, or just sprinkle Pure Lemon in.

Anyway yeah -- it’s not the most ideal setup but I do feel like I save a LOT of money and packaging waste with them.

lionheartmadre re: dumplings

can i just say i love how you gave your mixer a retro fighter plane look? cause that's frikken awesome.

Thanks! I wanted to decorate it up a little and asked Mum for some decals for Christmas one year, and she really came through :D

katriel-tumbles re: dumplings

Kreplach FTW. I've never had or made them (a tragedy for this Jew) but I get the feeling they're simpler than they seem.

The dough is a little tricky, because it’s got eggs in it which makes it sticky, which in turn makes it a little more difficult to work with without making the end product rather tough. But yeah, if you can get round the dough issues it’s not that complex.

fanmouse re: dumplings

Finland: piirakkaa, India: paratha, both similar to pierogi. (I am facinated by how similar the words are in the different language families.) Good luck!

Pierogi was on the list, but good reminder about paratha and I’d never encountered piirakkaa! I’ll look it up :D

#swords-n-spindles #thegollux #food #fanmouse #katriel-tumbles #lionheartmadre #geekgirl76 #junker5 #spaci1701

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spencersawkward · 4 years

Text

switchblade faith//spencer reid - chapter 7

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.

relationship: Fem!OC/Spencer

word count: 4.3k

idc if i've used this gif before it's AMAZING and i love it.

masterlist

somewhat unfortunately, Halloween rolls around. between the most intense case of my career and the rest of the ones that have come in, the meaningless holiday has barely crossed my mind. it's only Penny's eager reminder to find a costume that brings it to the front of my mind. I could half-ass it and pick something stupid, but then I would feel bad. everyone else in the office is just so excited about it, I don't want to be a sour influence.

plus, we deserve to have some fun.

I decide on a simple costume and on the 31st of October, I find myself in Penelope Garcia's bathroom with a tube of cherry red lip gloss and a somewhat reluctant expression.

"oh, c'mon." her voice is muffled through the door.

"quick question," I tighten the scarlet string around my neck, looking at myself in the mirror. "how full-out did you go?"

"baby, you know I only go to the extreme." she quips. I roll my eyes playfully, then open the bathroom door, stepping into the purple hallway with what can only be feigned confidence.

it's not that I don't look pretty; I think I look good. but it's the sheer silliness of it that makes my walk a little less than proud. I stopped dressing up for Halloween before I hit twelve. and now I'm twirling (at Penelope's command) in a short dress.

"I'm not even joking, Little Red: you look hot." she says, eyeing me up and down. there's an enormous purple seashell clipped in her blonde curls, sparkles all over her skin. she looks exactly like herself-- beautiful and whimsical in every aspect.

"thanks." I blush.

"come show us!" JJ calls from the living room. Emily would be with us, but she said she had to run an errand beforehand. I glance at Penelope once and widen my eyes. why am I so nervous? I'm acting like a child.

"go on, then!" Pen practically shoves me forward and I stumble a bit in my heels before walking out of the hallway and making my grand entrance by the couch. JJ is holding an enormous bowl of popcorn, dressed like Britney Spears. her jaw drops.

"do a spin!" she squeals. I do so, and the red cape flutters around me like the petals of a blooming flower. she sets the bowl down, claps. "I love it!"

"thanks." when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror on her wall, my cheeks are rosy. my hair tumbles over my shoulders and the cut of my dress is a bit low, but the cleavage is actually kind of a good addition. red ribbon falls just to my décolletage, a slight tease.

"we should head out soon, though," JJ checks her phone. "wouldn't want Hotch to leave by the time we arrive."

"is he even coming?" I ask.

"said he would. Pen made quite the case for herself." JJ pops a kernel into her mouth and I look to the tech analyst, who has a mischievous smirk on her candy pink lips. she raises an eyebrow.

"I told him I'd bring candy corn."

"seriously?" I can't keep the surprise out of my voice. didn't realize someone that serious could be plied with the promise of candy.

"yes, now come on." Penny scoops up her purse, which is shaped like a giant pearl, and goes to her cabinet to grab the candy corn. before long, we're out the door, chattering aimlessly on our way to the office.

when we get there, I start to get nervous. although I'm not sure why, I get self-conscious about my dress and hood, about the secret black garter around my thigh. it's my personal secret, something I wore for myself.

there are a few decorations up. some people from around the office are talking, and everyone is dressed to the nines. Garcia opens the door for me and I head straight for Emily's desk, where the rest of the team is gathered. Rossi works his way through a handful of hard candies in his palm. Emily is stunning in her black cat costume.

"hey, you guys." she breaks into a grin when she sees JJ and Pen and me, the rest of the group parting to look at us. my eyes snag on Spencer, with his Frankenstein mask resting on the top of his head so he can talk normally. even Hotch is pleased to see the three of us.

"thanks, Garcia!" he cheers as she hands him the bag of candy corn.

"you know, you're lucky he left the house for that." Rossi raises his eyebrows and points at the unit chief.

"oh, we know." JJ smirks.

"you look great!" Emily gives each of us a hug. she smells like something slightly spicy and warm, a nice scent that makes me want to hold on tighter. I don't know how to explain it; Prentiss has a very calming presence to me. I always find myself hanging around her whenever I need to decompress after cases, even if it just means talking about regular life.

"you do, too!" I grab a handful of caramel corn from the bowl she offers. "it looks pretty nice in here, actually."

"don't sound so surprised. think we couldn't handle a few decorations and snacks?" Rossi questions. it's getting easier to be around him now, honestly. despite my initial hesitance about his seniority, he's never made me feel small for my lack of experience in this specific field.

"she's against the whole holiday." Garcia makes a face as she berates me. Spencer shakes his head like I'm insane.

"that's not true!" I protest. "I never said I was against it, I just don't get why people are so excited about Halloween every year."

"because it's fun." Spencer speaks up. I roll my eyes.

"I'm not convinced."

"well, I'm glad you said so, because I've actually planned a little activity for us!" Garcia is practically bursting with excitement as she says it, like she's been holding it in the whole evening. she probably has.

my stomach twists. to be honest, I had been hoping for a relaxing evening and then an early night. an "activity" sounds like it'll interrupt those plans. but she's so elated that I can't help smiling.

"what is it?" Prentiss feigns wariness.

"well," Garcia simpers in a way that makes me think we're in for an interesting night. "I took the liberty of hiding certain candies around the office last night before we went home."

"hiding them?" JJ repeats with a smirk.

"in little plastic pumpkin cases. they're absolutely adorable, like Easter egg size--"

"you're sending us on an Easter egg hunt?" Rossi looks at her disbelievingly. I let out a nonplussed noise. Penelope is ready to defend herself, however, pointing a finger at him and sounding as firm as she can manage.

"it's going to be cute, dammit. whoever gets the most candies gets a special surprise at the end."

"what's the surprise?" Emily asks.

"it wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, now would it?" Penelope replies.

there's a silence in the circle as we all try to figure out how to react. it's childish, for sure. nobody is arguing that point; but it also sounds kind of not that bad to me.

"oh come on, guys!" she addresses our lack of enthusiasm. "we've had a hard couple of weeks. let's at least try and have some fun."

JJ starts to laugh, putting her arm around the tech analyst's waist while she snuggles into her shoulder.

"if it'll make you happy, Pen."

"it will!" Garcia nods vigorously and turns to us. I catch myself breaking into a smile. there are much worse things than going on a Halloween candy hunt, especially given the usual circumstances of being in the office.

"alright!" I throw up my hands and Emily is next to concede. Spencer has been quiet this whole time, but he straightens up from his usual slouching position and tries to hide the grin spreading over his lips. Rossi and Hotch glance at each other.

"alright." the Italian shrugs.

"what do we have to do, then?" I ask.

"well, there are a bunch of pumpkins hidden all over. you'll know them when you see them." she clasps her hands together. "I'm timing you, too, so you're going to have half an hour."

"wait a second," Emily frowns. "what if some of the other people who aren't in on it find the candies first?"

there's a sound of general assent from all of us. we aren't the only employees here. Penelope doesn't seem bothered by this, however.

"then I guess you'd better move fast." she pulls out her phone and presses a button, and we disperse with a quickness that really does make me feel like a kid again. I never did Easter egg hunts as a child, but this is a welcome distraction. low stakes competition.

I start to wander around, starting at my desk. there's a pumpkin behind my computer monitor, and one in my desk drawer, although that's it for my personal workspace. my feet carry me to other place around the office, my fingers trailing over the tops of cabinets and under desks. Penelope sits in Prentiss' chair with a sucker-- a smug, luminous mermaid as she watches all of us scramble.

"you got Hotch to search for hidden candy. impressive." I pass her on my way to Anderson's desk. she hasn't hidden anything in too private a place, but maybe there's something in his paperclip dish.

"I'm a witch." she wiggles her brows.

"I thought you were a mermaid." I wink. she grabs the hem of my dress and tugs on it.

"just go find your candy, silly."

"is there anything in Hotch's office?" I nod towards the almost intimidating room. her eyes flicker around to see who might be around us. fortunately, everyone is too wrapped up in their current task to even look our way. I look like I'm just wasting time.

"you didn't hear it from me," she whispers. "but yes."

a sparkle of satisfaction burns in my chest.

"love you, Penny." I make my way towards the office. the door is shut and the actual usual inhabitant of it hasn't gone inside, so he must have overlooked the idea that Garcia would hide candy in there. I'm sure they'll be easy finds, too, since she's terrified of crossing any boundaries with him and wouldn't press her luck by touching his things.

I head over to the couch by the door and see a plastic pumpkin resting on the table next to it, nestled between the wall and the surface.

"ha!" I snatch the thing up, then keep poking around. there's another one on the bookshelf. without anywhere else to put them, I put the found objects in the hood of my cape, dropping them in before moving onto the next.

I'm under the desk when I hear the door get pushed open slightly more. my head pops up from the inconspicuous spot and there's Reid, pockets stuffed while he peers around the space.

"hey." I say. he jumps when he sees me kneeling on the floor.

"oh, hi," he frowns. "why are you on the ground?"

I grab the little orange pumpkin package that's tucked against one of the desk legs, then show him smugly. "winning."

"how many do you have?" he pretends to be curious, but I can sense an undercurrent of competitiveness. I stand and shrug. he eyes my costume to see if I have any spots that hint at a candy stash. he doesn't think to check the hood of my cape.

"that's for me to know and you to find out."

Spencer squints briefly. "are you secretly good at this?"

"am I?" I raise my eyebrows. "don't try to profile me, Reid."

"I'm not profiling you!" he lets out one of those rare laughs, the musical sound that lives in his throat. I wish he would laugh more; there's something kind of cute about his face when he does.

"mhmm." I say doubtfully and come to stand in front of him. "let's see it, then."

"see what?"

"what you have so far." I say the words and he immediately places his hands over his pockets.

"no way! you didn't show me yours." he protests quickly. I wrinkle my nose.

"oh come on, Reid." I roll my eyes. "if you show me yours, I'll show you where I keep mine."

he watches me skeptically again. "why?"

"because I think we could be allies."

there's a silence after the suggestion. truthfully, the idea just popped into my head. we could win pretty easily, though, if we coordinate.

"really?" the corners of his lips flicker upwards. he's unsure whether or not he should give in.

"are you kidding? with your smartness and my generally conniving nature, we could really do some damage." I tease. he giggles.

"I've never heard someone describe themselves as conniving."

"call it self-awareness," I smirk. "are you in or not?"

he glances behind him at the bullpen, our friends still searching for the pumpkin packages while Garcia twists a pen between her fingers. when she wants to, she can look intimidating. I raise an eyebrow and wait for Spencer's response. his face turns to mine. those irises are such a pretty shade.

"okay."

"alright, boy genius!" I cheer, then reach up to undo my cape. he looks slightly panicked for a second as I undo the red ribbon, but relaxes when I grab the hood and show him the stash of pumpkins. "see?"

it’s crammed with orange packages.

“that's pretty smart." he admits with an impressed smile.

"right?" I agree. "come on, then. I think I've practically swept this place clean."

he follows me out the door in our search.

...

by the time the thirty minutes are up, Spencer and I have made shocking progress in consolidating our supply. we've decided that if we beat everyone, we'll share the surprise. if it's something we can't split, we'll rock-paper-scissors for victory (two out of three, of course). but I'm not too concerned about it.

when we wander over to Penelope's spot at the desk, we're practically strutting.

"someone's confident." she notes. I take my cape off again and slam the thing down on the surface. Spencer has an amused look on his face.

we ended up spending a lot of time arguing about the best spots to hide candy, though I mostly let him take the lead— in terms of hiding places, he's been here longer and knows more than I do. and, unrelated, but he's pretty funny when he's not busy thinking about a case. his references are a little nerdy, but I kind of enjoy listening to the explanations.

"we kicked ass." I cross my arms over my chest and Spencer nods. everyone around us is suspicious; JJ points between us.

"did you two team up?"

"maybe." I glance at Spencer, who's already looking at me to gauge my reaction to the question.

"that's cheating!" JJ laughs. Spencer shakes his head.

"actually, Garcia never laid out any formal rules for the game."

"mhmm!" I nod in agreement, grateful to have him there with his factual authority. JJ sighs, but nobody can stay mad at Spencer. we share a grin before Emily eyes the separate piles on the desk.

Garcia went out of her way to hide a lot of treats. that said, it's clear that the combined amount from Reid and me beats out everyone else's. we high five once she announces us the official winners.

"what's our prize?" Spencer asks as everyone lightheartedly boo's our victory.

"a gift card to that new fried chicken place that we ordered from a while ago." Garcia presents a shiny plastic card to me. it's a great treat, honestly, becuase I'm hungry and takeout is one of my favorite things in the world.

the team congratulates us on our win and things start to wind down. Hotch makes an excuse to get home and Rossi muses about a pack of cigars that await him. I feel the energy in the office start to dissipate, but now I feel like I'm on a bit of a victory high. I got all dressed up and now everyone wants to leave? disappointing.

as Prentiss and JJ shrug on their coats, I run my fingertip over the edge of the gift card. Spencer is packing some extra books into his bag. he told me to keep the gift card and that it wasn't a big deal, but I don't feel right not sharing. especially not when we didn’t rock-paper-scissors for it.

"Reid." I walk over to his spot, lean against the desk. he glances up in surprise.

"yeah?"

"do you wanna share this with me?" I wave the reward in the air. his brows draw together for a fraction of a second. he seems confused.

"right now?"

"sure, why not?" I gesture to the bullpen, which is emptying quickly. "it's not even that late."

he checks his watch as if to confirm my assertion, then stuffs his slim wrists into his pockets and stares at me for a second. I start to get the sense he’s going to say no, and something in me sinks. his tongue darts out over his bottom lip. he's got his mouth open a lot. "y-yeah, that sounds fun."

I nod at the good news. "okay, cool. I'm too lazy to actually drive there, so I'll just order delivery?"

"okay." he gives me a small smile while I pull out my phone to call the place. I'm a little bit glad that it's just us.

...

"try it." I pop the plastic cover off the sauce cup before setting it next to him.

"that looks gross." Spencer shakes his head quickly through a mouthful of food. my jaw drops and I snatch the sauce right back, dipping the chicken into it and taking a hefty bite.

"it's literally the perfect combination of salty and smooth." I protest. Reid looks dubious, however, and leans his head back against the side of the desk. we started the evening in the swivel chairs, but we're both fidgety at heart and now we're on the floor.

he takes a swig of his drink. "I never knew lemonade could taste so good."

"same." I laugh. "can I have your sauce thing, then?"

he responds by dismissively pushing the thing over to me. we're sitting side-by-side, and somehow I think that's easier for him. we don't have to look each other in the eyes as we talk.

"I'm proud of us." I announce. Spencer snorts.

"why?"

"we found so much candy! which we can now eat for dessert." I reach up to grab my cape off my desk, and the hood thuds to the ground.

"we're a good team." he says it lightheartedly. Spencer is right, though; we work really well together on cases. it makes sense that it would translate into candy hunts. he's way smarter than I am, but it functions well.

"we should do the Amazing Race."

"I don't think either of us would like that." he takes a bite of his fry and I finish up the last of my chicken.

"you wanna hear a secret?" my head turns to his.

"what?" he reciprocates. his features appear especially delicate right now, almost suspended. I can see a darkness in his lids that contradicts the youth of his mien. I'm so close, I could kiss his nose if I wanted to. I don't, but I could.

"aside from the team aspect, I don't really know what the Amazing Race is." I giggle. Spencer breaks into a laugh and turns away again, filling the office with the sound. I blush.

"then why did you bring it up?" his voice gets slightly high-pitched when he tries to speak through it.

"I don't know, I feel like people say that all the time."

"nobody has ever asked me to be in the Amazing Race with them." Spencer is still giggling when he looks over at me. I bite my lip before asking the thing that plagues me.

"so, what is it?"

"the Amazing Race?"

"no, Newton's Laws." I deadpan. "yes, the Amazing Race."

he throws his hands up and I chuckle. he straightens.

"it's a reality game show where they race to travel the world."

"that's it? no stats for me, genius boy?" I gesture for him to elaborate. Spencer shrugs.

"I don't really care about reality shows."

"you don't--" I blink exaggeratedly, as if the fact is shocking. "you don't care about reality shows?"

"we get enough reality here as it is."

"oh, Spence...." I sigh. "there are few things faker than reality tv."

"why do you like them?" he's genuinely curious. I see the glimmer of the Work Spencer with which I've become familiar. always trying to get under the surface, digging for answers even when they don't seem immediately relevant.

"I like to turn my brain off sometimes, you know?" I close the lid of my food and take a drink of my lemonade while I wait for him to respond. although he doesn't look at me as he nods, I can tell he understands what I mean. if anything, he knows the feeling better than I do.

"yeah, I get that."

"everyone just acts really stupid and they care way too much about things that usually, like, don't even matter. it's sort of comforting in a weird, depressing, god-I'm-glad-that's-not-me way."

"that's interesting," he peeks over at me for just a second. "you know, there's actually been studies done that show people with higher annual incomes suffer from higher levels of depression and anxiety."

"I believe it." I make a noncommittal sound and reach into the hood of my cape to grab a piece of candy. with the movement, I shift and the hem of my dress lifts enough to expose the garter on my thigh, and the object tucked within it. Reid's eyes pass briefly over me, but he does a double-take when he sees the thing.

"is that--?" he points at my leg. I hitch up the garment a little so I can remove the knife that's been pressed to my thigh the whole evening.

"a weapon? yeah, technically." I chuckle. Spencer's jaw drops in disbelief. even as I hold it in my hands, he seems afraid to touch it.

it's not really a weapon. I got it from one of my friends as a gift a while ago, a lovely little resin dagger that's filled with red flower petals and gold flakes. it glints under the office lights.

"you're really not supposed to have that in here." he gulps, glances up at the corners of the room, where I'm sure security cameras are mounted. I hand it to him, pressing the blade into his palm.

"then stop looking at all the cameras so suspiciously." I scoff. he turns a bit to look at the thing, tilts the edges under the glow to examine it with a strange expression. his long, elegant fingers move over the handle.

"where did you get this?"

"it was a present. it's not dangerous." I shrug. the edges are pretty dull; it's more of a decorative piece. I would equate its actual risk level to that of a particularly pointy pen.

"why did you bring it?" he hands it to me gingerly, our hands touching briefly before I slide it back into the garter on my thigh. his eyes follow my movements, and something in my stomach flips unexpectedly.

"I collect them."

"knives?" he doesn't seem taken aback, only interested, judging by the way he frowns quizzically. I nod and face him.

"yeah. I started as a kid, but I have a whole variety of them-- antique, new, ornate, plain-- I love 'em all." I explain enthusiastically. Spencer opens his mouth and I realize that he must have a million questions. he always has a million questions.

"why knives?"

I pull my mouth to the side of my face. it's not like there's some deep, dark reason behind my predilection for collecting sharp objects. and I’ve tried to answer that question myself, always coming up empty. some things people just... like. "I don't know."

like I've put a damper over the conversation.

"o-oh." Spencer's eyes drop into his lap, where he's been fidgeting with his hands for the past couple minutes. he thinks I'm withholding, that he's crossed some sort of line. my heart sinks.

"I'm serious, Reid-- I don't know." I laugh it off. "I just think they're cool the same way that you think math is cool."

"math is cool." he looks up for a second to smile. I nudge his shoulder with mine. his slight frame means he almost tips over and I laugh.

"hard disagree, but sure."

Spencer stretches his legs out before him, and I'm reminded of how tall he is. he's prone to slouching, so it's easy to forget that his body is actually pretty lengthy. when he taps his Converse together absently, I notice the different colors of his socks. one has watermelon slices and the other has the Road Runner on them.

"I like your mask, by the way." I compliment.

"oh, you mean this?" he tugs the thing down over his face. it's gruesome, really, tinged green with baggy skin below the eye holes. I make a disgusted face and push his shoulder away from me.

"ew!"

"something wrong?" he uses a funny monster voice when he says it, wiggling his fingers playfully. I cackle. he’s never done that.

"god, that thing is ugly."

Spencer removes the mask again, a ghost of a grin on his face. for all of his shyness, he's enjoying himself right now.

we sit there in silence for a bit, cracking open the plastic pumpkin packages that Garcia has stuffed with all sorts of candy. we trade jelly beans like currency, blue raspberry for orange and anything remotely citrus-flavored that he loves. he doesn't mind taking them from my open palm, which fills me with a strangely warm feeling.

I realize that there's more to Spencer's anxiety than germs, a thin layer of something that he lays between each person and himself. we don't talk about weighty subjects; we aren't friends like that-- not yet, anyway. but I'm glad that he feels alright with this kind of proximity.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #best friends to lovers #fanfic

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star-labs-intern · 4 years

Text

Serendipity: A New Year’s Kiss harrisco fic

A/N: This is super late but it is for @heckyeahharrisco ‘s beautiful Harrisco New Year’s Kiss Anthology! Happy almost- New year!

Summary : Harry and Cisco have a one night stand the night before NYE and then find themselves at the same New Year’s party.

Serendipity

The date was December 30th and Cisco was out at the bar, drinking. The holidays had been stressful to say the least and he deserved some proper rest and relaxation. He was hoping for someone to flirt with, so Cisco wasn't at his usual haunt tonight. He was at a place a little further across town that was usually very busy but tonight, looked like a ghost town. He looked up when a tall, lanky man of ambiguous age came to stand near Cisco.

“So...Do you come here often?" Harry Wells found himself asking, aloud.

Cisco barked a laugh. “That line ever worked on anyone before?”

Harry chuckled and reddened a little. “Honestly haven’t used it on anyone in a while. But I’m truly curious. You don’t exactly strike me as a regular.”

Cisco nodded at the drunks asleep at the counter. “No, I am certainly not a regular.”

“So that means, young attractive man, not at his usual neighborhood bar… looking to get into trouble tonight?”

Cisco found himself laughing for the second time. “You’re the one calling me attractive without even buying me a drink, let alone introducing yourself.” Cisco smirked at this handsome stranger. “And I’m the one looking for trouble?”

“Harry Wells. And I’d love to buy you a drink, even if you don’t tell me your name.” Harry leaned closer to the man with the beautiful curly hair, anticipating his response.

“My name’s Cisco. Cisco Ramon. And, yes, I think I’ll let you buy me a drink.” Cisco sized Harry up for a second.

“Oh, you’ll allow me to buy you a drink? How kind of you.” Harry quipped.

They decided to move to a table to talk. One thing led to another and suddenly Harry was asking Cisco to come home with him. Then, before they knew it, Harry and Cisco were two single people heading home together on a cold New Years Eve, Eve, intent on having some fun with no expectations.

Cisco always buzzed with nervous energy before moments like this and Harry could feel it radiating off of him.

“Relax,” Harry cooed as they got out of the taxi. They stood at the bottom of the stairs that led up to Harry’s apartment. It was bitter cold but Cisco stared up at the door and then looked sheepishly back toward Harry.

Cisco couldn’t help feeling a little bit of hesitation. Harry was an older man, a stranger, bringing Cisco into his home, after all.

“Hey,” Harry stopped Cisco by gently grabbing him by the shoulders. “You good?” Harry asked seriously, instead of complaining about the cold or rushing Cisco inside.

“I’m so good,” Cisco nodded, suddenly back in the moment with refreshed enthusiasm.

Harry grinned and pulled Cisco to him, kissing him slowly. Cisco felt lightheaded.

"Let's go inside. I'm cold." Cisco complained when they parted.

"Hmm, I think I may be able to help with that," Harry replied cheekily as they ascended the steps and disappeared into the apartment

***

The next morning Cisco was up cooking breakfast, even though it was Harry’s home.

Harry grinned waking up to the smell of food. “I don’t remember telling you to get out of bed,” Harry teased as he came into the kitchen.

Cisco blushed, “Good morning! I think we both deserve some food after last night,” he deflected the flirtation but looked at Harry under low lids.

Harry came to kiss Cisco squarely on the mouth. “You are amazing. Thank you for such a wonderful evening.”

“I certainly enjoyed myself,” Cisco grinned and kissed Harry back before breaking away. “Now! Unless you want burned eggs to ring in the last day of the old year, I suggest you stop distracting me,”

"Whatever you say, Cisco," Harry grinned

***

Later that day, Cisco was at home preparing for his New Years Eve party. He was going to Mercury labs with his best friend Caitlin Snow. He was going as “back up”, as moral support for Cait, who worked there, and he had to start getting ready.

His phone vibrated and, expecting a message from Cait, Cisco opened his phone. What he found was Harry’s apparent phone number, saved under “That Hot Guy” and a new message saying “Had a blast with you. Hope to see more of you in the new year.”

Cisco rolled his eyes and quickly texted back “You saw plenty of me last night. You’re so corny”

After hesitating for a moment, Cisco texted again, “But I also had a blast and we should def do it again soon”

“Sounds like a plan” Harry texted back and Cisco bit his lip, thinking of another night promised with Harry. He was a little bit irritating, for lack of better word, and there were moments where Cisco kind of wanted to strangle him, but boy did they have chemistry…

With another twist and turn, Cait was picking Cisco up for the party.

“What did you end up doing last night?” Cait asked, in the car.

“Honestly, I went out to the bar and had a one night stand,” Cisco winced as he told Cait.

“Did you really??” Cait grinned. “Give me all the details, why didn’t you text me where you were?? What if he had been a murderer?”

Cisco laughed. “I have my pepper spray, don’t worry. I can handle myself. He was… very smart. A little older than me. Kinda sarcastic in this really annoying way.”

Cait was looking at Cisco. “And how was it?”

Cisco rolled his eyes. “It was really nice and I had a really good time.” He said, looking out the window again and avoiding Cait’s reaction.

“Did you get his number??”

“Oh my god, Cait, enough of the third degree!”

When Cisco peeked at Cait, she was still grinning from ear to ear. Cisco groaned and filled Caitlin in on the rest of the details.

“Wow, Cisco. Good for you!” Cait complimented as they got to the party and started getting out of the car.

“Thank you, it was fun, yes, and hopefully I will see him again, but now it’s time to enjoy this party! So please, no more Nancy Drew-ing my love life, okay?”

Caitlin pretended to zip her lips. “Time to party,”

Cisco smiled. “Thank you!”

***

Cisco had tried his honest to god best, to continue and forget all about Harry.

They had been at the party a little over an hour, when Cisco spotted him. “Oh shit. I’ve gotta be fucking dreaming,” Cisco muttered to himself.

“What are you doing?” Cait asked as Cisco was suddenly hiding behind a waiter holding a tray of appetizers.

“Nothing,” Cisco replied, stealing a glance from behind the waiter, to see if Harry had noticed him. He was a little ways away, standing profile, speaking with some woman in a fabulous pant suit, and it didn’t seem like he had spotted Cisco yet.

“Are you hiding from Dr. McGee? She adores you, she wants you to come work with us.” Cait asked, narrowing her eyes.

“That’s who that is. Nope. Actually, yes, I am hiding from Tina McGee, I don’t want her to see me in this hideous tie I picked out with champagne glasses on it.” Cisco lied, poorly.

Cait rolled her eyes but then narrowed her eyes at Harry. She was starting to put the pieces together.

“Cisco…”

“Listen, Cait, I think I’m gonna have to go home early, I’m getting a terrible stomach ache…”

“Cisco, is that the man you slept with last night??” Cait whisper yelled at Cisco, pulling him out from behind the waiter with the appetizers and dragging him to the entrance.

“What? Where would you get a crazy idea like that?” Cisco laughed, nervously this time.

Cait looked at Cisco and blinked, waiting for him to come clean.

Cisco pursed his lips. “Not gonna buy the stomach ache story, huh?” Cisco asked.

Cait laughed. “You’re the worst. Just go over and talk to him. Just say hi and make it not awkward, and then come find me. I’ll be mingling.”

“Fine.” Cisco grimaced. “I can’t believe I told you any of that. This is the worst New years party ever,” Cisco whispered to Cait before going off to find Harry.

Cisco spotted his tall demeanor at the drink table. He was grabbing another glass of champagne. Cisco took a deep breath and approached Harry.

“So… Do you come here often?” Cisco asked, mirroring Harry’s words from the night before.

Harry glanced up at Cisco. His eyes were wide. He took a swig of his champagne before he answered.

“That line ever worked on anyone before?” Harry asked with a tight lipped smirk. They smiled at each other, in shared loaded silence for a moment.

“Did you know I was going to be here?” Cisco asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Did you know I was going to be here?” Harry turned it around.

“Touché.” Cisco commented, grabbing a champagne glass and offering Harry a toast. Harry tipped his glass to clink with Cisco’s and they shared a drink.

“Well, I just wanted to say hello. Enjoy your evening.” Cisco said.

“Alright, Cisco. But I have to warn you, these things are dreadfully boring,” Harry commented.

Cisco laughed and headed back off to find Caitlin.

“All sorted out?” Cait asked.

“Easy, peasy,” Cisco said in reply.

“I don’t even want to know.” Cait said.

Forty-five minutes later and Cisco was starting to get what Harry meant. This was a giant party but people kept going in and out, finding different groups to linger in, it was impossible to keep track of who you had and hadn’t met yet. All these academic types started to blend together after a while. It was honestly starting to give Cisco a headache.

Cisco gave a sharp gasp when someone grabbed his arm, suddenly.

“Sorry, did I scare you?” Harry’s rasp was soft in Cisco’s ear and his fingers were tight but gentle holding Cisco’s arm. Where had he even come from?

“A little,” Cisco admitted, looking up at Harry.

“Aren’t you bored yet?” Harry asked again, soft this time leaning all the way in, to whisper in Cisco’s ear. “If you’re as bored as I am, you should meet me up on the rooftop in fifteen minutes.”

Cisco felt shivers up and down his spine, and said, “Make it ten,”

Harry grinned and walked off. Cisco was thankful that Cait was otherwise occupied talking to a gaggle of her coworkers.

Cisco waited four agonizing minutes before nodding at Cait and then walking off down the hallway to find Harry.

He took the elevator up to the top floor. He followed the signs for the staircase. Cisco went up a half flight of stairs and found a door which was propped ajar with a rock. On the door it said, “Roof access, CAUTION”

Cisco slipped through the door careful to keep the rock propping it open.

He looked around, “Harry?” He whispered.

“Over here,”

Harry was draped in shadow, leaned against a chimney. He held open arms to Cisco.

“You’re not worried we’re gonna get stuck up here?” Cisco asked as he got slowly closer

“You saying you wouldn’t want to be stuck up here with me?” Harry teased

Cisco laughed and then, finally, he was close enough that Harry pulled Cisco to him and they kissed, gravitating together like magnets.

***

Cisco returned to the party a little while later looking very red and with very messed up hair.

Cait quirked her head at him when he returned. “Where have you been? You look like you’ve been in a fight.”

Cisco gave her a small grin. “You should see the other guy,”

Cait narrowed her eyes at Cisco.

“You’re lucky you made it back in time for the count down.”

Harry and Cisco made eye contact from across the room. They were each pretty happy that they had gotten to steal away for a little while.

Cait and Cisco tried to maneuver themselves closer to where the action was happening.

Cisco lost sight of Harry in their move.

Suddenly they were counting down from thirty and Harry had come up right behind Cisco.

When the clock struck zero, Harry took Cisco by the arm and swung him around to face him. “Happy New Year, Cisco,” Harry whispered, and suddenly dipped Cisco low, kissing him deeply.

Cisco gasped but was thrilled by the most exciting New Years kiss he could imagine.

Harry stood them both back up and when they broke apart, he chuckled sheepishly as anyone who saw them, wolf-whistled and shouted. “I thought you were my secretary from behind! Your long hair!” Harry winked at Cisco who bit his lower lip, shaking his head at Harry’s sneakiness and terrible excuse.

Cisco touched his lips where they had kissed, only seconds before. “Honest mistake,” He said, eyes glaring daggers at Harry and Harry grinning like a lunatic. Halfway across the room Christina McGee looked a fraction more stressed out than she had already.

“Happy New Year, everyone!” Harry shouted and made off into the crowd.

Cait leaned over to whisper to Cisco. “He is something else.”

Cisco smiled and touched his lips, where Harry’s had just been. “You’re telling me.”

#harrisco #new years eve #nye #harrisco drabbles #this is silly but i had fun writing it!#so there's that #happy new year

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stereksecretsanta · 4 years

Text

Merry Christmas, outtoshatter!

Dear @outtoshatter. You requested fluff, getting together, alternate first meetings, and something!Stiles. This was so much fun to write, and I’m thrilled to have the chance to create something for you. I hope you have the loveliest of holidays!! <3

Read On AO3

*****

Derek is a romantic. He dreams of finding his mate, of connecting with that special someone who will make his heart swoon.

"How did you know Dad was the one?" Derek asks his mom as he digs out a pink, glittery bear from beneath the pile of loose-limbed plushies. "Were there fireworks when you first met, or—?"

His cheeks flame. He can't tell his mom that the spun-sugar scent of Jenna's hair makes his heart race, or that the smell of Mark's baseball jersey gives him a boner. In fact, Derek's embarrassment is so thick she probably scents it despite being surrounded by a bunch of seven-year-olds with sugar highs from birthday cake and soda.

"The first time you meet your mate will always be significant,” Talia says as she hands the bear over to one of Cora's classmates. “It might be passionate and explosive, or it could spark a bond that builds and grows. It's influenced by who you are and where you are in your lives. But deep inside, you'll know. Your wolf, especially, will know."

"But what if my mate isn't a wolf? What if they can't sense the connection?"

"Humans cherish the notion of 'true love' as much as we do. And I bet your mate is someone who's sensitive and wise." She leans down and ruffles Derek's hair.

Derek wriggles out of his mom's touch. He's thirteen, not three.

"You think?" he asks. Maybe it is Jenna or Mark, although he was hoping his mate would be someone more… well, special.

"You'll see." Talia's smile disappears as she studies the line where Cora and her friends are waiting at the stuffing station. She counts their numbers under her breath and shakes her head. "Someone's missing. Will you help me find them, Der?"

Derek sighs. It might be Cora's birthday, but he's missing practice to babysit a bunch of second-graders at a Build-A-Bear. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. I know this seems like an unbearable chore, but it means a lot to your sister that you're here. And to me, as well." His mom runs a hand along the back of Derek's neck and gives him a gentle squeeze.

Perhaps it's because it's close to a full moon, but Derek feels restless and edgy. Guilt washes through him at his snappishness, and he apologizes to his mom, giving her a quick hug before starting his walk-through.

There are bins of bears and cats and dogs and dragons in every color imaginable, their limp bodies waiting to be plumped up with poly-fill. He’s surprised Cora wanted a party here; her interests run more along the line of laser tag than dolls or stuffed animals. Although there's a backstory, he's sure; Cora had mumbled something about wanting to invite her whole class 'unlike that Lydia Martin', whereupon Mom's fangs dropped and her eyes flashed red. The next thing Derek knew, they had made a reservation for all twenty children.

It's not until Derek passes the displays of the Marvel and Star Wars bears that he finds the errant partygoer. Unlike the other boys in the class who dress in athletic wear stamped with Nike and Under Armor logos, he's wearing a faded t-shirt and a plaid overshirt, topped off by a pair of worn trainers.

Derek looks down at the limp plushie in the boy's hand. "Hey. Are you here for Cora's birthday party?" he asks softly.

The boy raises his eyes. They're ridiculously large for his face, amber orbs framed by long lashes and a buzzed haircut that make them look even bigger. Suddenly, they narrow as he looks Derek up and down.

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

Derek frowns, the defiance taking him by surprise. "Maybe I work here."

Any shyness the boy may have seems forgotten as he takes a step closer.

"No, you don't," he says, his tone raised in challenge. "You don't have a nametag and you're not wearing a vest."

The kid's smart. Derek is filled with the weird urge to push his buttons and protect him at the same time.

"You got me," Derek says, holding up his hands. "I'm Cora's brother, Derek." He points to the animal in the boy's hand. "Don't you want to wait in line with the others and get your bear stuffed?"

The boy straightens out his arm. "It's not a bear," he says. There's a slight hesitation, then he's turning the animal over. Derek sees that it has a long muzzle, pointed ears, and plastic blue eyes. "It's Can… um, Canis…”

"Canis Lupus. A wolf," Derek says, surprised.

The boy nods vigorously. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Why wouldn't it be?"

"I didn't know if I was allowed to get something that wasn't a bear." The boy hangs his head, his fingers digging into the wolf's ample fur. "I've never been to one of these parties before."

Ah. Another reject from Lydia Martin's party list. The news makes Derek inexplicably angry.

"If I was getting one, I'd get a wolf, too," Derek says.

The boy looks up, his earlier disapproval of Derek apparently forgotten. "Yeah?"

"Totally." Derek crouches down and strokes the wolf's fur. "It's pretty skinny though," he says as his hand lingers on the nape of its neck. "We'd better go and fatten it up. Maybe get it some clothes?"

The boy shakes his head. "Wolves don't wear clothes," he says, his exasperation plain. "Duh."

Derek snorts. "Well, how about one of those scent things?" The discs seem to be popular; most of the other kids have one in hand.

The boy lifts the wolf to his face and buries his nose in its fur. "Nah. He smells good the way he is. But he needs a heart."

"Okay. Let's get one, uh—"

"Stiles," the boy answers. "Stiles," he repeats with a small scowl as Derek stares, bemused. "That's my name."

"Oh. Okay, Stiles." Derek stands up and holds out his hand. "Let's go. We've got a wolf to build."

Stiles places his hand in Derek's. It's small and a bit clammy, but Derek doesn't mind, surprisingly. They head towards the front of the store where Stiles takes his time in choosing a red heart out of the bin of hundreds. There's another display close by filled with a selection of noisemakers.

"Do you want one?" Derek asks as Stiles stares. There's a lot to choose from. "They have some songs and animals noises, and—"

"They don't have any wolf ones, though," Stiles says, seemingly put out. He pushes one of the buttons, rolling his eyes as a dinosaur's roar breaks through the tiny speaker. He chooses the dog button next.

God, no, Derek thinks.

Thankfully, Stiles passes on that one, too.

"What about this one?" Derek asks, pointing to number eleven. When Stiles presses the button, they hear the lub dub of a human heart, steady and true.

Stiles' face breaks into a huge grin. "That's perfect."

Derek opens the drawer, takes out the sound chip and hands it to Stiles, who curls his fingers around its edges and holds on tightly. By the time they make it to the stuffing station, Stiles is bouncing on his feet, a bundle of barely contained energy. He's also staring with a horrified expression at a boy who's twirling in a circle while rubbing his bear's poly-filled heart across his chest and down to his belly.

"Uh, Derek? Do I have to do that?" Stiles whispers as a Build-A-Bear employee eggs the boy on.

Maybe it's the vulnerability in Stiles' face, or the wobble in his voice, but Derek wants nothing more in that moment than to soothe Stiles' worry. He leans over and whispers, "You mean, act like something's crawling up your butt?"

Stiles lets out a half-gasp, half-laugh. "I can't move like that! What if I do it wrong and his heart won't work?"

"Listen to me, Stiles. I'm thirteen and I know a lot about wolves. Rubbing your wolf's heart on your pants or doing ten jumping jacks isn't going to make him come to life. What he needs is for you to care for him. To love him, and believe in him with all your might. Okay?"

"Okay." Stiles gives Derek a grateful smile, his face radiating his happiness.

Derek stands a bit straighter and catches his mother's eye. He's sure it's his alpha's approval and nothing else that makes him feel warm and tingly inside.

~*~

Derek used to be a romantic. He once dreamed of finding his true love, of meeting that special person whom he could care for and be cared for in return. But a series of bad relationships with people who either wanted different things in life (sorry, Braeden), or were only interested in him for his family's powerful connections (thanks, Jennifer), or who were, to put it bluntly, vindictive, psychotic stalkers (hello, Kate) has left Derek realizing not everyone is destined to have a mate. Of course, that also means one of the great Hale legacies has come to an end, although he's not sure why the Fates decided to pin that dubious distinction on him.

He doesn't want to end up like his Uncle Peter who, after losing his mate, creeps around with people half his age, filled with snark and cynicism. So Derek tries to settle, without success. His friends and family blame his inability to have a meaningful relationship on 'being too choosy', or 'not trying', or his 'emotional constipation'. He supposes it's a damning statement when even his best friends have given up their matchmaking attempts and relegated him to babysitting duty.

Derek's trying to decide whether he has time for a quick run before he goes grocery shopping, or whether he has enough milk and butter to postpone the errand altogether, when an EMT kit lands by his feet.

"Any plans for tonight?" Erica asks. Her smile is a bit too bright, her tone a shade too innocent.

Derek frowns and gives his co-worker the side-eye as he tries to figure out her angle. He can't believe there was a time where he thought he and Erica could be anything more than friends. She's gorgeous, of course, but she's also too perceptive and blunt as hell, and she calls Derek out on his bullshit more than anyone else aside from his own sisters. She feels like safety—like pack—but his wolf knows there's nothing more. Besides, she's snagged herself a handsome and brilliant ED doctor in Boyd—along with a ring, a two-bedroom Murray Hill apartment, and a five-year old daughter.

"Catching up on the second season of The Mandalorian?" Derek grins, baring a toothy smile of his own.

"Are you thirty-five or sixty-five, Derek? Because seriously, I can't tell. And since you phrased your answer in the form of a question and this isn't Jeopardy, I'm assuming those plans aren't set in stone."

Fuck. Erica had promised after the last disastrous blind date that she wouldn't try to set him up again. "I'm really not in the mood for company—"

"Even if it's a little girl who loves her godfather more than anyone else in the world?"

Derek sits up straighter. "You need me to watch Hailey?" He couldn't love Erica and Boyd's daughter any more than if she were his own.

"If you're up to it," Erica says, actually looking contrite. "I know it's your first day off in almost two weeks and I normally wouldn't ask, except… Well, the New York Public Library's doing this Children's Authors series, and her favorite writer's going to be reading today."

"The Fox and the Spark? I'm somewhat familiar," Derek says drily. He's read the story so many times he could recite it in his sleep.

"Yeah." Erica lets out a small laugh. "So, there's a second book that's coming out and the author's signing copies. Boyd was supposed to take her, but he has to cover for someone who called out with a family emergency. Greenberg won't let me change my shift, and I know you just finished yours, but—"

Derek puts a hand on Erica's shoulder. Next to Laura, Erica's his closest friend, and it's not like he really had plans.

"Don't give it another thought. Of course I'll take her."

A wave of relief sweeps over Erica's face. "I owe you one, Hale."

Derek lets out a small huff. He's pretty sure that if they were keeping tabs, he's going to come out on the short end when it comes to Erica and Boyd. Besides, an afternoon out with Hailey is bound to be better than his last several dates, even if he has to put up with a bunch of screaming kids.

~*~

As it turns out, there are a bunch of kids, but none of them are screaming because the man in front of them's woven some kind of crazy magic and has them in his thrall. He has thick brown hair that's the epitome of hipster chic, a wide mouth that pulls into an easy grin, and is wearing a heather grey t-shirt paired with khakis and a red hoodie. He looks young—young enough that Derek thought he worked for the library at first, a notion that's dispelled once Mrs. Purcell, the head librarian, gathers everyone together. His smile is bright and engaging, although it falters a bit when Mrs. Purcell stumbles over his name.

"Mieczyslaw," the man says with a self-deprecating grin. "Like 'mischief'. But I'll tell you a secret. No one calls me that, not even my family. You can just call me 'M'."

The news seems to delight the kids, who shout "Hi, M" in a loud chorus. M shows his appreciation by running across the front of the room and handing out high-fives.

"Is that really him?" Hailey wriggles in Derek's arms and cranes her neck, trying to get a better look. The construction-paper fox ears that they super-glued to her headband earlier that afternoon gets pushed aside at a precarious angle.

"That's really him," Derek affirms, which earns him an excited squeal.

"Put me down, D!" Hailey says with all the imperiousness of her mother, and it's all Derek can do, even with his superhuman strength, to keep her from toppling over.

"You can find a spot up close. No pushing or shoving, and if you can't see, ask politely. I'll be back here, okay?" He leans in and nuzzles her cheek to let her know she's safe and protected.

"Okay!" Hailey gives him a quick squeeze back before making her way up front. Derek is glad to see one of the other girls make room for her as Hailey sits down in the second row and clutches her book happily.

Derek straightens and runs a hand through his hair. He feels someone watching, and when he looks up, he suddenly locks eyes with M.

M rubs the back of his neck as a light flush spreads over his cheeks. It doesn't help to diminish his already-youthful appearance; in fact, it makes him look vulnerable—like prey—and the thought causes something to flare hot in Derek's belly. It's only when someone nudges him impatiently that he realizes that he's gawking in the middle of the room, surrounded by a restless audience that comes up to his knees. Derek mutters his apologies, then takes his six-foot frame to the back of the room where he watches from behind a row of brightly colored, miniature plastic chairs.

M starts off by saying that his best friend Scott is a veterinarian who works at a wolf sanctuary, and that M always thought wolves were the coolest. The tidbit makes Derek straighten to his full height and he puffs out his chest, inordinately pleased.

Most of the children already own copies of M's latest but choose to watch as M holds up a giant book that's nearly a foot-and-a-half tall. The pages are filled with illustrations—courtesy, M says, of his friend Isaac. The pictures are warm and soft, and detailed in a way that appeals to both a young and older audience. But even though they're beautiful, Derek finds his attention drifting elsewhere. He's mesmerized by the way M's fingers dance across the pages as he reads, how his eyes grow bright and animated when he hears the children laugh at his vocal impressions, and the way M's mouth—god, his mouth—turns down at the corners when he reaches a poignant scene. His voice defies categorization: it's raspy yet young, melodious but slightly off-pitch, and serious yet mischievous, as if an old soul had somehow merged with an adolescent’s energy.

The truth is that Derek's too distracted by M to pay close attention to the story. But after his brain momentarily shorts out from watching M lick his thumb to turn the page, it manages to reboot and catch the his next words:

"You need to care for him," the fairy said as Milo hugged his wolf. "You need to love him and believe in him with all your might."

Derek listens in a daze as M tells the group how Milo's wish for his wolf to come to life comes true. His own wolf perks up, and against the stench of the colognes and soaps and sweat of the crowd, he can pick out the welcome scent of citrus and cottonwood from back home. It's intoxicating, yet soothing and breathtakingly familiar, and in that moment the thread of hope that Derek's long thought cut manages to wriggle into his heart and take hold.

~*~

Derek absolutely does not push his way towards the front of the line. He just has longer legs.

His heart is in his throat and he's holding tight to Hailey, who's clutching her copy of Build A Wolf close to her chest. Derek doesn't understand how he could have missed the signs: the smattering of moles that grace M's cheek, the adorable tilt of his nose, or the warm intelligence of his eyes.

"Hi," Derek says when they reach the table where M's seated, his voice catching.

The Sharpie that M's twirling lazily between his fingers falls with a clatter. M stares at Derek, seemingly lost for words. A beautiful pink flush highlights his cheeks that Derek wants to trace with his thumb.

"You're a bit older than my usual fan. Bigger, too," M croaks. His face turns even brighter, and Derek can smell his surprise and the faint spice of his arousal.

"Stiles?" Derek blurts out. Upon seeing M's shocked expression, Derek tries to backtrack. "I'm sorry, it's just… well, you remind me of someone I knew from back home." When M doesn't deny the assumption, Derek continues, "I'm Derek Hale. Cora Hale's brother?"

M scrubs his face. "Wow, dude… wow, yeah, I am." He looks around and lowers his voice. "I'm surprised you recognized me. Or that you even remember who I am." When he smiles it's small and embarrassed, but Derek can also detect the happiness that colors his scent.

"I know you're probably busy, seeing as you're on a book tour and all, but do you want to grab a bite after you're done?" Derek feels breathless, and it's totally unlike him to be so forward, especially in the midst of an increasingly antsy crowd, but he feels like he's been waiting for this moment forever. "I mean, it can be something low key," he adds hastily, in case he's laying it on too strong. "I haven't been home in a while and it would be nice to catch up, and—"

There's a strong tug on his shirt sleeve. "Hi, Mr. M," Hailey pipes up. She's wearing a sweet smile but her eyes are impatient and determined. "Can you sign my book for me?"

"Sure, I'd love to." Stiles gives Derek an apologetic look. He greets Hailey with a complicated fist bump after commenting on her fox ears, uncaps his Sharpie, and opens the book to the front page. "Who should I make it out to?"

"To Mommy and Daddy and Hailey," Hailey decides. She tugs on Derek's sleeve more forcefully. "Do you think Mommy will like that?" she asks in a loud whisper.

Derek bends down and kisses her forehead. "I think she's going to love it," he says, nuzzling her neck. When he stands back up, Stiles has finished signing, but his smile seems a bit forced. "So, about dinner..." Stiles doesn't answer immediately; Derek falters as he takes back the book, his hopes sinking with each passing second.

Stiles' eyes lower, his once-happy scent souring. "Sorry," he says, his expression unreadable. "I'm on a tight schedule."

Both the human and wolf sides of Derek are confused by Stiles' sudden rejection. "Maybe a drink?" he tries again, desperate. He may have been a terrible judge of character in his previous relationships, but he can't be wrong, not about this.

Stiles shakes his head. Before Derek can press his case, there's a cough as the father and son behind Derek fix him with matching glares. Derek and Hailey get shuffled towards the door, and by the time Derek regains his bearings and looks back he discovers that Stiles is posing for a selfie with the kid, his scent now off, his smile a bit too forced.

~*~

There are several truths about the holidays—and the end of the year in particular—which are that the crowds are larger, the stress is higher, and people tend to avoid hospitals as much as possible. It also means that Derek's unit is flooded with calls, from decorating mishaps and drunken shenanigans to medical emergencies that are so far gone they can no longer be handled by an urgent care. He hasn't hung out with both Boyd and Erica in nearly a month, and even though it's for a quick bite in the hospital's cafeteria, he'll take it.

"Seriously, Hale. You'd better have a smile on your face after your PTO."

Derek looks up from his burrito, his brows furrowed.

"I don't know why you think I have PTO, Erica, but I don't," he says, grimacing as a glob of beef and avocado drop onto the wax-paper wrap. He's never requested a holiday week since he started with the FDNY eleven years ago. His family's all on the West coast, and he'd rather leave the prime vacation weeks to his co-workers. It's not like he has someone special to share the holidays with, after all.

He ignores the ache in his chest as he thinks of Stiles.

"Yeah, well the thing is, now you do. The week between Christmas and New Year's," Erica clarifies as she takes a bite of her burger. "You never exercise the perks that go with your seniority, and don't think it's gone unnoticed. It's the department's gift to you. "

Derek stares, flummoxed. "Greenberg will never go for it."

"Are you kidding me? He was the first to say 'yes'. Said he's tired of seeing your grumpy mug whenever he rings in the New Year."

Boyd grins at Derek's obvious discomfort. Derek gives him the middle finger, which makes Boyd chuckle out loud.

"I don't even know if my family's around," Derek protests. Laura often spends the holidays with her husband's family in Sun Valley, and Cora's hard to pin down any time of year.

Erica and Body give him twin looks of guilt. "They are," Boyd says as he takes something out of his coat pocket and hands it to Derek. "We already spoke to Laura. She can't wait to see you."

"Ho, ho, ho." Erica grins.

"What's this?" Derek asks as he stares at the envelope in Boyd's hand.

Boyd shrugs but Derek's not fooled by his casual stance. "A first-class plane ticket. An early Christmas present from us to you." His usually placid expression grows sheepish. "Look man, we don't want to put you in a bad spot. If you really don't want to go, use the credit for another trip. But we knew that if it were up to you, you'd be spending Christmas alone, eating leftovers and watching It's a Wonderful Life for the hundredth time."

"Who says I need to be in a relationship to be happy?" Derek asks, his hackles rising. Besides, Boyd has it all wrong. Derek has Die Hard on his Christmas queue.

Yippee ki yay.

Boyd holds up both hands. "Not me. If you want to be a bachelor forever, I'm not one to judge."

"But I am," Erica says. "You don't date anymore, Der. Hell, when's the last time you even got laid? Which would also be fine, except it's not, because you're miserable and it's obvious that's not what you really want."

Sometimes Derek has a hard time following Erica's logic. Unfortunately, this is not one of those moments.

"It doesn't matter," he says, digging the excess rice out from his wrap. "I'm better off alone."

Erica and Boyd share a look. Derek feels a pang of envy at the way they so easily read each other's thoughts and their mutual love and support. He'd always fancied himself a romantic, but to finally find his mate only to be rejected flat out hurts worse than anything Kate had put him through. Which… well, it says a lot.

Boyd nudges the envelope towards the remains of Derek's burrito. "Do what's right to you." And just like that, he changes the subject as they argue over whether Brees or Brady will end the season with the most touchdown passes and have the better chance of securing a berth in the Super Bowl.

~*~

Minutes after Derek sets foot inside JFK, he remembers why he hates flying. It's the noise and the stress, the smell of impatience and sweat, and the lack of personal space as he waits to clear security. He jams his beanie down to cover his ears, and the glower he's wearing doesn't help the dubious looks being cast his way. By the time he reaches the concourse, he has to duck into a coffee shop to catch a break from all the commotion.

He's standing in line, trying to decide whether he'd rather have a green or carrot smoothie, when someone's suitcase catches his heel.

"Shit! Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" The stranger pulls back the offending piece of luggage, and Derek suddenly catches a whiff of a familiar scent amongst the flurry of clothing and limbs. "Are you okay? I'm not exactly graceful on most days, but I'm working on like two hours of sleep and… " The man's voice trails off as he meets Derek's gaze, his whiskey-colored eyes widening further. "Derek?" he squeaks.

"Stiles," Derek answers, his voice equally strangled.

Stiles blows out a deep breath. "Oh, wow. What are the chances?" he mutters. His face turns blotchy.

Derek's wolf is pawing at his chest, begging Derek to not waste this second chance. "Uh… seeing as we're both here, I'm going to repeat my offer. For the drink. And a meal, if you'd like. Although I guess it's more like a grab and go." He's stumbling over his words and he feels the tips of his ears heat.

Stiles glances at the breakfast wraps and fruit bowls displayed behind the plexiglass counter. He pastes on a grin, although it seems strained at the edges. "Yeah, okay. Thanks, man; that'd be great." He orders an OJ and an egg wrap, while Derek finally decides on the green smoothie.

"Is that all you're getting?" Stiles asks after an awkward moment of silence.

Derek shrugs. "I ate before I got here. But you can order something else. I'm in a generous mood."

"Haha, big spender. I mean… " Stiles ducks his head and bites his lower lip. Derek watches helplessly as it reddens and swells. "Doesn't your daughter or wife want something, too?"

"I don't have a daughter or a wife," Derek says, his brow furrowing. "Or a girlfriend or a boyfriend, for that matter."

Stiles' mouth drops. "But who was the girl you were with at the book signing?"

Everything starts to slot together. Derek lets out a small chuckle of relief. "Hailey? She's the love of my life. She also happens to be the daughter of my best friends, Erica and Boyd, and my goddaughter. They couldn't make it to your signing because of a scheduling conflict, and I jumped in as a favor." He hands over a twenty to the cashier and deposits the remaining change in the tip jar, his shoulders suddenly lighter.

"Ohhh." Stiles wheels his bag around as they head out towards the gates. He stays close to Derek and his scent grows brighter and sweeter. "I totally jumped to the wrong conclusion," he confesses with a rueful grin. "And I don't want to make the same mistake twice, so I'm going to ask you straight out: are you heading back to Beacon Hills? Because if you are, I'd like to take you to a real dinner. If you're interested, of course," he hastens. "If not, that's cool, too—"

Derek stops and places his hand on Stiles' arm. "I happen to be going back to Beacon Hills. And I'm definitely interested."

A quick check of their tickets shows they're on the same flight into Sacramento International. When they reach the gate, Derek marches up to the counter and trades in his first-class ticket for a business-class seat next to Stiles. He hurries back to the waiting area, flashing a 'thumbs up' sign and grinning like a loon. The look of pure joy that lights up Stiles' face makes Derek's wolf howl with glee.

"So I was curious... why did you choose Mieczyslaw as your nom de plume?" Derek asks as he sits, resting his bag on the floor between them.

Stiles huffs out a laugh. "Mieczyslaw is my name—at least, it's the one I was born with. But it was too complicated to say, so my best friend Scott nicknamed me 'Stiles' when we were younger." He shrugs, as if to say, the rest is history. "Anyway, I wrote The Fox and the Spark for Scott and Allison's son and they finally convinced me to submit it to a publisher. I really didn't think it would go anywhere, and it seemed like it would be less of a rejection if I sent it as 'Mieczyslaw' instead of 'Stiles'."

"And then you ended up with a best-seller," Derek finishes with a grin. He stares at the label on his cup, rubbing an edge that's grown worn from condensation. "Hailey's favorite book is The Fox and the Spark. But I think I'm partial to your latest. The one where a boy builds a wolf out of snow and wishes he'd come to life."

Stiles sucks in a deep breath. "It's based on one of my greatest memories."

"The memory of a wolf? Or someone else?"

Stiles' cheeks stain a beautiful pink. "Uh, a little bit of both? I've always been drawn to wolves, but I've also never forgotten how nice you were to me at Cora's party. I mean, you're Derek Hale—Cora's cool, older brother. I kind of built you up after that, turned our meeting into some kind of mythos, but even then I hadn't been prepared for you to be so…" He gestures with his long, graceful fingers up and down Derek's torso. "I mean, look at you. You're ridiculously hot, plus you were so amazing with your goddaughter. You probably work saving kittens or puppies or endangered wildlife or something—"

Derek coughs. "People. I'm an EMT."

"See! I mean, your fucking perfect. It's a good thing I didn't know all these things before, because otherwise, like, mind blown." Stiles mimes an explosion with his hands.

"I'm hardly special. Although I do have a book written about me. How many people can say that?" Derek teases.

"Yeah." Stiles' grin fades slightly, his hands falling to his sides. "About that. I know it must seem weird, but I'm not some obsessed fan, I promise."

Derek shakes his head. It's too early to tell Stiles about werewolves and their mates, but he wants Stiles to know that the feeling is mutual. That Stiles' story is the same one Derek's been living in since they first met.

"It's okay, Stiles. I feel the same way, too." Emboldened, he takes Stiles' hand in his, his eyes dropping to Stiles' mouth as his mate licks his lips.

"Dude," Stiles whispers, awed.

~*~

By the time they touch down in Sacramento, Derek's learned all about Stiles' closest friends. He learns that Scott is a werewolf as well, though bitten and not born, and that Stiles is considered part of Scott's pack. He's surprised to know that the infamous Lydia Martin is now one of Stiles' closest confidants, and that they'd briefly dated before deciding they were better off as friends. He also discovers that the Sheriff who busted Derek and his friends on Senior Prank Day (and let them off with a warning) is none other than Stiles' dad.

Derek and Stiles eventually connect the dots and realize that Stiles' friend Isaac went to the same college as, and remains friendly with, Erica and Boyd. He's happy to know that Stiles also lives in New York, on the Upper West Side near Riverside Park, which happens to be one of Derek's favorite places to jog. And he discovers other things about Stiles—like how Stiles is ticklish along his sides (just below the curve of his lowest rib), and how his lips are just as soft as they look, and how Stiles goes absolutely crazy when Derek scents and mouths his neck.

In fact, by the time they disembark, their mutual attraction is pretty much apparent to everybody—including the Sheriff, who pointedly avoids looking at Stiles' neck, and Laura, who just laughs.

Stiles lifts the hem of his scarf to hide the evidence, his cheeks flaming. Derek's just glad that neither the Sheriff or his sister can see the other places Derek's marked.

"Looks like you've finally found a flight you enjoyed, baby bro," Laura says as she wraps her arm around his shoulders and squeezes. "I'm so glad you're home."

Derek closes his eyes and breathes Laura in, his wolf settling at the smell of her shampoo, the warmth of his skin, and the feeling of home. "Me too."

Laura nuzzles the crook of his neck. "You smell different," she says as she leans back, her gaze sharp and assessing.

Derek glances at Stiles, who looks over to Derek at exactly the same time and waves at him with a blinding grin. "Um, yeah. About that..."

"I don't mean in that way," Laura says, wrinkling her nose. "Although he is a cutie. What I mean is that you smell... happy."

"I am," Derek says, realizing he means it. He can't wait to introduce Stiles to the rest of his family and begin formally courting his mate. But for now, he and Stiles know they have something special. They've entered the next chapter of their lives, one that already has a great beginning.

And the romantic in Derek knows this story will have a happy ending.

#outtoshatter #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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the-fiction-witch · 4 years

Text

Darth Duck

REAL LIFE SCANDAL COUPLE: TBS X REAER RATING: FUNNY + SUGGESTIVE

"Welcome... everyone to another Episode of Thomas and Y/n have taken to much of something and are now going to do something that's probably a bad idea" Y/n smiled as she sat in a mesh dress with a bright red and black bra and Thomas sat at the table beside her drinking vodka shirtless

"Welcome to drunk food reviewing"

"Not what we are doing?"

"Aren't we?"

"No Thomas"

"Ohhh... what are we doing?"

"Read the board Thomas"

"I can't... its over there. Read it to me y/n" he sighed laying on her shoulder

"We are doing the video we have to age restrict? remember Thomas?"

"Ooooooooohhhh the sexy video?"

"Yes, the sexy video, that's why you don't have a shirt on"

"... Did I remove my shirt? or did you do that?"

"You did that"

"They why don't I remember."

"Because of the state you are in sugar cube" she laughs kissing his head and patting his hair

"Can we get nuggets when we are done filming?" he whispered

"we have Nuggets? there on there way with the food bicycle man"

"Hurry Up food Man! I want tiny chicken shapes!" he complained

"I should probably get to the point?"

"Why? Sally will edit for us"

"We can't rely on sally"

"why not? I love sally, she had a great..... face"

"Does she? Incase you can't notice. We are half drunk and also... kinda stoned. Maybe a little tiny bit"

"You're stoned! I'm just drunk!"

"We have had... between us. Three bottles of wine. a bottle of whiskey and half a bottle of vodka. and then like a teaspoon of weed"

"I think it was like a cup of weed"

"it was a small pot, i smoke it because Thomas brought it back for me from his holiday in Holland, He did not smoke any, However he was in the room when I did. so I think you have like a baby contact high" she says "don't do drugs kids... but we are adults. ish. Kinda. Legally we are adults."

"I know you are but what am I?"

"This is the issue is that Thomas is a weird childish person anyway, and then you get him drunk and he becomes like six but a six year old who just read what all the swear words are, and when he's high... yeah this is what happens he just becomes like a weird whatever this is"

"Fight me bittch! I am the king!"

"Yes Thomas, yes you are" she laughs cuddling him "You wanna know what we are doing today? Or do you wanna sober up a little bit?"

"Tiny sober? while you explain the thing we are doing" he says leaving a moment

"We are reviewing weird sex toys I found online, Now if I sound way more together thats because I didn't drink as much becuase... I didn't want a repeat of the Barbie cake incident. and also because I think I have way more of a tolerance then Thomas does" she says as Thomas returned with a coffee "Better now?"

"Yes"

"Its the weed, that if fucking you up right now. it just makes me really calm and slow... you just fucking go off the bloody walls"

"Yes it is. so. show me the first sexy thing"

"I am the first sexy thing"

"Yes you are, you are very sexy, May I nuzzle with the boobs?"

"No"

"But I wanna"

"But you can't we are filming right now Thomas"

"But! Boob!"

"No boobs for you"

"Fine... I'll grope my own boobs" He sighed groping his own chest

"I think you are still too out of it to function"

"Im functioning, I have great tits"

"You do, you want the first toy or not?"

"Yes! bing it to me"

"Here you go" Y/n said putting a rubber duck on the table she clicked a button and this yellow duck began to vibrate across the table

"Who is this for? Becuase... I cannot stick my dick in it. and as far as I was aware that is the point of most male sex toys"

"Sticking your dick in it?"

"Sticking my dick in it" he says "To be fair I put my dick alot of places I probably shouldn't" he says looking at the toy

"You do. Like your ex girlfriend" she giggled

"Ooohhh that was a low blow"

"I assume for girls becuase... vibration"

"Guys like vibration too"

"Yeah but.. I think its for ladies Or just in general as a vibrator" she says "Rate this out of One to five climaxes?"

"Two, Its meh"

"I'd say three, just is nothing else because it amuses me"

"Like your exboyfreind"

"Bitch..." she sighed "Would you rather have thids duck then your rubber duck upstairs?"

"No, Becuase my ruber duck is amazing"

"Is he?"

"Yes! How dare you insult My duck" He says getting up a moment and when he returned he had a little bath duck dressed like Vader "He is darth Duck." "Darth Duck?"

"Yes. He murdered a group of eggs because of his brain washing and now has a deathboat that goes around destroying ponds"

"So you would rather have a tiny sith duck in your bathtub then this vibrating guy?"

"Yes I would"

"Okay... he comes home with me then"

"what's next?"

"This is an Egg Massager"

"I am Aware of these"

"Ohh are you?"

"I use to have on of these" "DId you? like seriously?"

"Yeah, its way smaller and easier to hide then like a full fleshlight, even like the fleshlights where its just the jelly plastic are hard to hide, hard to store, hard to clean, hard to travel with. so yes I got one of these and it is amazing! its not to big, not to small so it breaks, you can turn it inside out to clean it" He explained

"Thats on the internet now thomas"

"I know. I have crossed a line just being in this fucking video"

"so lets just say fuck it and jump over it?"

"The line has been crossed so Lets just run with it"

"Is this what a virgina feels like to men?" she asks sticking her fingers in it

"A little bit. as much as any male sex toy does. I have yet to stick my dick in a sex toy and actuly feels like a virgina. but thats not really the point. Its like I imagine vibrators and such like aren't really meant to feel like getting fucked. but you know if they feel like a dick then great"

"I get that yeah... this is like fourty pounds though?"

"Its worth it I think. As a man"

"How many orgasms out of five?"

"Four and a half orgasms"

"Better then your ex girlfreind?"

".... yes"

" this product is thomas aproved"

"Few sex toys recive that"

"Yeah becuse your boring and don't want sexy toys"

"I like sex toys. but I would rather just... have sex"

"okay so like not mastabation toys like partner toys?"

"Yeah" "Like handcuffs, lube, maybe like one of those vibes for men and ladies?"

"Yeah, more like that. I hope my ex doesn't find this video"

"Ohh she's gonna be mad at you"

"Also... My future children. If you are watching this and I birthed you please do not watch this"

"You birthed them? when did you grow a womb?"

"Yesterday"

"Moving on! you want some lube thomas?"

"Hit me with the lube"

"Here you go, its... strawberry flavoured" she says "You like strawberries thomas"

"I do, But I don't get the point"

"The point of lube?"

"No the point of it being flavoured" He says "I don't get that"

"Its for like... if I was for jerking you off and i needed lube I could use this and then after jerking you off for a while I could suck your dick and it would be strawberry flavoured"

"Or I guess... for eating out also? for the same reason"

"yeah for that. I hope there arent just people like eating lube. If so... Get help Because thats a problem" she says putting some on her arm and licking it "Its not bad, tastes like... strawberry chew its"

"Gimme" he says putting some on his hand "Okay frist it looses points for being bad lube"

"what?"

"This is shit lube y/n"

"How... how can you tell that?"

"rub it between your fingers, Now good lube you should be able to separate your hands and it should get stringy like it reaches between your hands"

"Like slime?"

"Yes like slime" he says "or put some on your hand good lube you should put your hand upside down and it shouldn't move it should stay on your hands"

"You have alot of lube kwnollage"

"I do." he says before having a lick of the lube "Where are you getting strawberry chew its? it tastes like strawberry cough syrup" He sighed "Do we have to do anymore? Can I go to bed?"

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