#and i still have to squeeze in a Christmas shopping at some point. hell.

[anaargent]

ANOTHER FIVE?

FIVE HARGREEVESxREADER

*After watching season 4, we became orphans and widows. But the idea of a coffee shop with a bunch of fives is not bad at all.* (this is my first attempt)

.

.

-Stay here with Allison, I'll be back soon - Five said with a soft look as he lightly squeezed her hand, before letting go and turning around. You watched apprehensively as he walked to Lila and they disappeared together in a space jump.

-Well, maybe we should go after Klaus then - you said, looking at Allison, with no idea of ​​when Five would return and give some satisfaction.

It shouldn't bother you so much anymore, the sudden disappearances, the lack of explanations, it had been six years, maybe you should expect more than a sincere relationship with Five. But you still waited, you still clung to any minimal show of affection you managed to get from him, even if it was a simple handshake.

You didn't know Five before his chaotic return in 2019, old hargreeves adopted you years after his early disappearance, for some reason you were younger than your 'brothers', but he never explained to you why. He called you 'the void', claiming that one day you would be very useful to the team, that day never came.

dinner at Diego and Lila's house

Something was different, you knew it the moment Five and Lila returned in the middle of Christmas dinner, faces closed and thoughtful. You didn't dare ask, but you could deduce from the looks the two shared. Then Diego noticed, then the whole family noticed. You were silent, what should you say? that she felt betrayed by the revelation that Five could show affection so freely after 7 hours with Lila, and not with you despite everything they had together?

It's over anyway, you let out a bitter laugh, finally gaining Five's attention, the attention you had been chasing so hard to gain - I guess we're settled then.

You really wanted to come out on top of all this shit, with grace and maturity after being dumped. But then Diego attacked Five, the same Diego who took care of you after your entire family dissolved and you had no one, the same Diego who took you to live in his not-so-safe apartment while he became a sort of vigilante at night.

-we're not done when we don't even have something solid- five says with his superior tone ,maybe it wasn't on purpose, maybe you had underestimated Five's talent and sensitivity for human relations up until that point.

Who could blame you, right? - You son of a bitch - when you realized, your hands were connected to Five's perfectly aligned hair, pulling with all your strength. Then everything became a mass of people, Klaus and Allison in the distance shouting "pull harder S/N!", Diego and Luther grabbing me in an attempt to get me off Five, who was trying not to lose all his hair, and Lila trying to pull Five back.

-What the hell is going on here? - A deep voice rang out above all the noise, everyone froze and looked towards the door, where a Five, looking more adult and rumpled than the Five I was attacking, stood in the doorway.

Everyone shared a lost look, watching the new five jump especially in the middle of the crowd and separate you and your five - I looked for you in so many timelines, darling - the adult five smiled sweetly, caressing your cheek, it would be a lie to say that this didn't shock you. - And you - he turned to the disheveled five - we need to talk

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Hi! I love love love the other half. After the last chapter I hope Bruce does something nice for shop girl (and for himself to ig). Them being sweet just makes me screech.

Previous Part | Masterlist | Final Part

Some sweet Bruce comin' riiiight up

Warnings: Very light angst; mostly fluff

Not beta-read

“Are you awake?” Bruce’s breath brushes against the bare skin of your shoulder. You grunt softly, shifting where you lay on your belly. The sheets are soft and warm beneath you; you can see sunlight beginning to creep in between the curtains of the master bedroom of the mansion. 

“...No,” You finally mumble, voice grumbling and thick with sleep. Bruce chuckles, pressing a sweet kiss to your shoulder as his palm brushes over your back, dipping beneath the covers. You hum softly, arching up into his touch and sighing through your nose. 

“Why are you awake?” You counter. “What time did you get in?” 

“A little after two.” 

“Oh, wow. Early night for you.” 

“Moderately.” 

You roll onto your back, gently dislodging Bruce’s hand. You scrub the sleep from your eyes with the heels of your palms before you finally tip your chin up, getting a better look at him. He does look more well-rested than he has in a while: his eyes are bright as he smiles down at you. 

Christmas and New Years had passed with little to no incident. Your Christmas celebration had been small; the most tense point had been a short video call with your parents. Conversation overall had been stilted, but not as bad as pulling teeth. New Year’s had been spent at Liz and Grant’s for their blowout celebration, but your night with Bruce had ended early when the signal had shown in the sky. 

Still, despite your bumps and hurdles, you feel like the two of you are slowly inching toward where you had been before your break-up. Some of the buoyancy is coming back to both of you. With your relationship no longer Gotham’s best-kept secret, Bruce openly picks you up after work. Sure, you’re still mobbed by the press, but you’re so used to it that it hardly makes a dent anymore. You aren’t tip-toeing around one another. If you have a disagreement, Bruce stays to talk it out. Now and again he may step out of the room to get his head together—but he always comes back. 

It isn’t perfect—it will never be perfect—but it feels more solid, and safe. 

You raise your hand, sweeping it gently across his cheek, and giggling softly as he tips his head to press a kiss to your palm. 

“Someone’s in a good mood.”

“Well someone,” Bruce leans closer, brushing his nose against yours, “Has plans for you today.” 

“For me? Little ol’ me?” 

You hardly have a chance to get the tease out before Bruce captures your lips in a tender kiss. You sink back into the mattress as he presses closer, looping your arms around his shoulders and smiling as his tongue gently probes between your lips. You hum at the feeling, shifting your hips as Bruce’s hand skims across them, then down your thigh. You pout as he draws back just a little, dropping another peck to your lips before his forehead rests against yours.

“What are these plans, exactly?”

“I don’t want to ruin any surprises.” 

“Surprises?” You lean into it as your brows raise. Plural?” 

“You’ll see.” Bruce gives you one more quick, warm kiss before he leans away. “Shower, get dressed. I’ll get you some coffee.” 

You push yourself up onto your elbows, an intrigued smile curling your lips. “What the hell are you up to, mister?” 

“You’ll see!” 

-- 

Bruce doesn’t let a single tip slip throughout your shared coffee, or on the way out—not even when you crowd him into an alcove by the stairs and nibble on his earlobe. He nearly crumbles for a moment, but he rests his hands on your hips and gives them a lusty squeeze before reassuring: “There’ll be plenty of time for that later.” 

You narrow your eyes slightly as Bruce steers you out of the dim space, a smile curling your lips as you take in the rising flush in his cheeks. 

“Looking a little flustered there, Mr. Wayne.” 

“What ever gave you that idea—Alright,” He chuckles as you lean in, pushing cool air over his earlobe. “You can’t get secrets out of me that way.” He curls his arm around yours, steering you toward the front steps of the mansion. 

“Mm, but I was this close. What would the sinister of Gotham think if they found out that Batman needed so little teasing to crumble?” 

“Why do you think the helmet covers my ears?” 

You snort, bumping your hip against him before the two of you slow at the sight of Alfred standing in front of one of Bruce’s cars. 

“Go on,” Bruce urges softly when you meet his eye again. “I’ll see you tonight.” 

“At one of my many surprises?” 

“Exactly.” 

You pucker your lips, and grin as Bruce leans in for another indulgent kiss. 

“Love you.” 

“Love you, too.” He pats your lower back, urging you forward. “I’ll see you later.” 

You grunt, jogging down the front steps. 

“Morning, Alfred.” 

“Good morning, miss.” 

“I take it you’re in on these shenanigans?” 

“Shenanigans may be a rather harsh word for the day ahead.” He shoots you a wink as he opens the door for you. 

“Any hints?” 

“I’ve been sworn to secrecy.” 

--  

Alfred leaves you at the front door of Grove, one of your favorite restaurants, at 11:30 AM on the dot, and tells you that your name is on the reservation. You linger in the reception area as the waiter prepares your table. 

“Ugh, tell them to hurry up, I want a fucking mimosa.” 

You shriek at the familiar voice, whirling around from the reception desk and right into Michelle’s arms. She cackles, and the two of you hug one another tightly for a long few moments. 

“What are you doing here!” You ask, reeling away to get a better look at her. 

"Moneybags offered to fly me in. No way was I turning down first class, a free brunch, and…Some other stuff.” 

“Ugh, not you, too,” You whine. You let it drop just long enough for the waiter to show the two of you to a quiet table at the back of the restaurant. You let Michelle order the two of you a round of mimosas before you lean across the table. “Come on, not even a hint?” 

“Well, I’m going to be around for a few hours, but that’s all you’re getting.” 

“When did he reach out?” 

“Like…I don’t know, sometime during gooch week?” 

“During what?”

“Gooch week—you know, the week between Christmas and New Years? Like the bit between the asshole and the—” 

“Okay, I got it, I got,” You wave her off as the waiter sets down your mimosas. “What did he tell you, at least? That made you come down here.” 

“He said that he wanted to do something nice for you.” 

You hum thoughtfully, narrowing your eyes as you consider what that could possibly mean. Bruce does nice things for so often.

“I think he still feels like he needs to make up for the whole…Situation.” 

“Well, he does,” Michelle mutters, taking up her glass and taking a deep swig. You fight back a chastising frown. 

“...He’s been getting better. We’ve been better,” You insist. 

“Do you think he’s going to propose tonight?” 

Her question stuns you, and for a moment, you can’t say anything. The prospect makes your head spin, and you actually lean back in your seat with the weight of it. 

“I…” You shake your head, “I don’t…” 

Michelle’s lift with interest, and she leans in. 

“You don’t…what? Know how big the ring is gonna be?” 

“I don’t think he’s going to ask,” You laugh. “I mean, at least, not right now. He and I haven’t spoken about it in a long time.” 

“Not even after the attack?” 

“We’ve talked about a lot of things, but that’s not one of them.” 

Michelle grunts softly. “If he proposed tonight, what would you say?” 

“He’s not going to.” 

“But if he did?” 

“Knee-jerk reaction? Probably yes. But we’ve still got a lot of crap to sort through.” 

“Like what?”

“Like…” You flub for a a reasonable answer before you manage: “He’s an insomniac.” 

Michelle's expression is rife with disbelief, and you couldn't blame her. To a reasonable person, it's probably not a great reason to end a relationship.

“That’s a deal breaker for you?” 

“I know it sounds kinda petty, but it makes more of an impact than you’d think.” 

“What else?” 

“I mean, I’d kind of like him to make peace with my parents before any of that. Not like, go to them and ask for my hand—I don’t care about that and they don’t, either. But if he’s going to be family to them, I just want all of that bad blood from Thanksgiving cleared up.” 

“He wasn’t given the green after the office?”

“I mean, they appreciated it, but my mom is convinced that bad luck just follows him.” 

“Maybe it does.” 

You purse your lips, swirling your mimosa a little. 

“Maybe.” 

The two of you consider it for a few moments before Michelle reaches out, patting your hand and pointing to your menu. 

“Let’s order. I don’t want to miss our spa appointment.” 

“Spa?” 

She winces. “Just act surprised when we turn up so Lord Fancy doesn’t report back to the billionaire that I spoiled anything.” 

-- 

“Are you kidding me?” 

Bruce smiles smugly as he watches you nearly double over in laughter. You don’t care that the entire floor staff of Chef du Roi is looking at you like you’re insane. 

“I figured we should try the food here at least once,” Bruce insists as you calm, steering you by the arm toward your table. You swipe a few tears that had gathered from your eyes, chuckling still as he draws your chair out for you. 

“Thank you.” Your smile widens as Bruce leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before he rounds to his seat. You take the proffered menu from the waiter, flipping it open. You wait until the waiter is out of earshot before you comment, “You know, I’ve been dying for Chipotle lately.” 

“Ha-ha.” 

You giggle, wriggling your foot out of your new pair of pumps and gently brushing your toe along his calf. Bruce’s gaze flickers to yours from beneath his lashes, and you fight back a devilish grin. 

“So, the spa, the shopping spree, flying in my best friend…May I ask what triggered such largesse?” 

“Well, it’s not every day that I have to scramble to make up for missing our first anniversary by bringing you back to the scene of our first date,” Bruce comments, glancing between menu pages. It feels a little like a goad—especially considering the fact that he’s the reason you’d missed your anniversary, and you both know it. You just hum thoughtfully, glancing over the entrees. 

“...Technically the scene of our first date was the diner near the store I worked at,” You remind him. “This was our second date—And we didn’t even eat here.” 

“Nitpick nitpick nitpick.”

“I learned from the best.”

“Michelle?” 

“Alfred.” 

Bruce chuckled, setting his menu aside. “How is Michelle?” 

“She’s doing pretty well. Still adjusting to Keystone City, obviously, but she said that she enjoys how quiet it is by compairson…Thank you, by the way.”

“I know how much you’ve been missing her.” 

“...She’s worried.” 

“That I’ll do it again?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Are you worried?” “Should I be?” 

You don’t look up from your menu for a moment. You can feel him watching you heavily, but you don’t let it bow or shy you back from the question. You feel the table shift as he leans forward a little. 

“Baby.” 

“Mm?” 

“If for some reason I lose my mind and do that again, I want you to take everything out of the mansion that isn’t nailed down.” 

You bite back a smile, nodding. “Do me a favor and jot that out on a napkin. Alfred can notarize it when we get home.” 

“Alfred can notarize it tomorrow morning. He has the night off.” 

“Why’s that?” 

Bruce’s foot hooks around your ankle, tugging a little closer beneath the table. You can’t help but wonder what sort of picture you make to the staff—Bruce, watching you so closely, you, studying your menu as if the waiter’s going to quiz you on it, and your feet hooked together, visible just beneath the end of the tablecloth. 

“Because if you’re amenable, our plans don’t end with dinner.” 

“What do they end with?” 

“That is up to you.” 

“Do I get to know my options?”

“I think you know your options.”

“Mm.” You make a show of turning the page of your menu, stalling and trying to weigh your words. “...So is this going to be an evening on the…Earlier side?” 

“Not if I can help it.” 

“...But if you can’t help it?” 

“It’s going to take a lot to get me away from you tonight.” 

“You know if you changed one word and omitted another, you would’ve been quoting Toto’s Africa.”

“That wasn’t on purpose.”

“Wasn’t it?” You cast him a glance from beneath your lashes.

“No.” 

Your brows tip up, and his stern insistence melts before he shrugs. “Heard it on the way over.” 

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s catchy.” 

“It’s very popular.” 

“I mean it.”

“...I know.” 

“You know?” 

“I know it’s catchy.” 

He laughs softly, and you reach out, curling your hand around his. 

“I know you mean it,” You reassure gently. Bruce smiles, raising his hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. 

“...How long do you think the staff is going to linger over there?” He asks. 

“I think they’re afraid to come over.” 

“I don’t bite.” 

“Sure you do.”

“Not with an audience.” 

Final Part

[fairlyang]

Present 🏹

in which kate unwraps her present

w/c: 2.8K

pairing: kate bishop x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. fluffy at first, horrendous ugly xmas sweaters, flips a switch, teasing, groping, grinding, fingering, sweet aftercare, more fluff, matching jammies and hats, hot chocolate

——

You were sitting in your living room reading a book with Lucky napping on your leg and Christmas music playing softly in the background when suddenly the front door bursts open. In comes your girlfriend Kate with loads of bags in her hands.

She dumps them on the floor then closes the door before pointing at them with a wide smile. "I got you something." She says and goes through her bags unsure which one to show you first.

"This won't be good." You mumble petting Lucky's head before he jumped down to greet her while you closed your book and put it on the coffee table.

"Hey buddy!" She exclaims pulling away from her bags to play with him.

His tail was wagging back and forth since he hadn't seen her all day because she was out shopping without you. There was no one to babysit him and she didn't want him to stay home by himself while you both shopped for hours. She feels too bad.

So you told her to go by herself which you would soon regret.

She pulls away and opens a bag, digging in it for a few seconds before taking out a sweater for Lucky. She gasps and holds it up to him, he excitedly sat down waiting for her to put it on.

She takes off the price tag and quickly slips it on him with ease. "Go show mama your new sweater!!" She says and points to you.

He quickly runs up to you and does a little twirl before sitting down, tail still wagging, tongue happily out. His sweater made it seem like he was an elf, with cute little red and green cotton balls on it.

"You look so handsome Lucky." You said and scratched behind his ears which made him tilt his head to the side.

"I knew I had to get him a few things and absolutely adored that sweater!!" She says excitedly, taking tags off what looks to be a bunch of toys.

"You have great taste baby." You coo, taking a quick glance at her, and fixing the collar on Lucky's shirt.

She then dumped brand new toys she got him onto the floor. "Santa!!!" She yells and squeezes the toy's belly, making a loud squeak noise that instantly got his attention.

He sprinted towards her and grabbed the toy out of her hands before running off to some other part of the apartment, toy still getting squeaked.

Kate turned towards you, holding something behind her back. "I got you the best thing I've laid my eye on." She says, standing up and walking over to you.

"That's only making me nervous Katie." You chuckle and she shrugs.

"I promise you'll love it." She replies and takes a seat next to you.

She then moves her hands and places a sweater on your lap. You grab it and hold it up only to burst out laughing.

"Now Kate-"

"Please try it on! Pretty please." She pleads, giving you your best puppy dog eyes which you couldn't deny.

"Fine." You mumble and get up, walking towards your shared bedroom.

You tried to take a peak at the other bags she had before she quickly spun you around and made you go to the direction of your room. "No peaks!!!" She exclaims, pointing a finger at your face.

"Ugh fine! All I'm saying is you better have an ugly sweater too." You groan and she gives you a thumbs up.

You walk away, entering your bedroom and closing it shut before taking a closer look at the sweater.

And of course it was an ugly Christmas one.

Because Kate bought it.

It was a red sweater with white snowflakes all over it, with green stripes along the entire collar, cuffs of the sleeves, and the bottom of the sweater. But worst of all it had a big gold bow on the entirety of the chest with a gold strip right through the middle.

Oh but the absolute cherry on top was the "You're welcome" tag attached to the bow.

How the hell Kate always found the weirdest of sweaters ever is beyond your knowledge. And how she finds worse ones after every year....

You sigh and take off the hoodie you snatched from her side of the closet before leaving it on the dresser. You then slip the sweater on and pray it wasn't itchy.

It surprisingly wasn't but it felt almost heavy? There was just so much going on and the colors were atrocious.

Sure it was the colors of Christmas but it couldn't be a sage green? Forest green?

It was all way too bright but the things you'd do for Kate....

You took a deep breath then let it out before opening the door and going back to the living room only to find Kate with her back to you.

"I swear to god Kate Bishop if yours isn't as ugly as this one-" you start but she turns around, shutting you up.

Your eyes widened and you brought a hand to cover your mouth.

And there was your lovely incredible Christmas loving girlfriend in an ugly Christmas sweater.

Somehow more ridiculous than yours but it was the tiniest bit cute on her.

So it technically wasn't fair.

She moved her hair back and grinned, "what do you think?"

"It's.... Ugly?" You say unsure what she wanted to hear.

It had different blue and white patterns along the top and bottom, with thick red strips along the collar, cuffs and bottom of it. But what made hers so.. different was the fact that there was a Santa on it.

With his sleigh.

And physical plushie reindeers flying it.

And colorful pom poms along the sleeves.

It was truly horrendous but the reindeer, the most ridiculous part of the entire sweater, somehow made it look cute.

Maybe only because it was Kate that was wearing it and you thought she looked good in absolutely everything...

"I don't even wanna know where you got them." You cut off the silence and she chuckles before taking a step forward towards you.

"Not like I'd tell you anyway!" She teases before reaching up and tugs on two strands of your bow.

"S'cute." She mumbles under her breath making you snort.

"Yeah right." You groan making her laugh.

"You make it look cute, pretty girl." She coos, wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

But her reindeer then poke your chest and stomach making her pull away slightly. "I do have other actual cute things for us but I just had a thought..." she mumbles, leaning in towards your neck.

She left a soft kiss on your skin, not caring about your sweaters bothering each other. "And what's that baby?" You ask quietly, already having a slight idea.

"I wanna unwrap my present." She murmurs against your skin making you let out a sigh.

"Don't gotta say it twice." You breathe out and she hums, kissing up to your ear then nibbling on your earlobe.

"You're so gorgeous." She murmurs as she pulls away and quickly grabs your hand leading you to your bedroom.

"Eager much?" You tease making her groan as you walk into your room.

She closes the door and pushes you against it, slipping her leg between yours and with her hands gripping your hips. "Acting as if you don't want me to." She coos and gives you a little pout.

"You're such a tease." You whine and she grins.

"Good." She mumbles before going back to your neck but this time immediately sucking on your skin then leaving a wet kiss on it before finding another area to mark.

You moaned as she left another mark and your hands made their way to her hair, slightly pulling on it how she likes it. "So did you- j-just see this sweater and thought of this?" You stutter making her chuckle and pull away.

"Kind of. I know you appreciate a good dirty joke." She says with a smirk on her face.

"So are you gonna unwrap your present?" You ask lightly fluttering your lashes at her and she only shrugs before grabbing your hand, bringing you to the bed.

"I will.. but first I wanna see something." She says and you both walk to the edge of the bed.

"Lemme just see something really quick.." she mumbles and gets on the floor.

She brings her hands up to the waistband of your sweats and she pulls them down all the way. You step out of them and she whistles. "I'm so lucky."

"Speaking of-"

"He's fine!"

"Now back to where we were before..." she says and walks behind you.

Her hands were all over your body, the bow making noises that irked your ears but as soon as she started groping your tits you didn't mind.

Your ass was directly on her crotch now and you did what you had to and started grinding on her as she squeezed your tits. "Mmm Kate." You moan and she grinds her hips against you making you both moan.

"Bet you're already all soaked for me, aren't you baby?" She whispers in your ear as she pinched your nipples softly.

You moan and lay your head back against her, she leans her cheek against it as you relaxed into her arms. You continue your grinding making her groan and hump against you. "God you're driving me crazy baby." She moans and goes back to kneading your tits.

"Please-"

Without another word she grabbed you and put you on the bed with her jumping right behind you, literally.

"I wanna try something a little different okay?" She says and you nod.

"Just need you."

"I know baby, I know." She coos in your ear as she helps you get comfortable between her legs.

She makes you kind of lay your back against her then slowly starts trailing her fingers over your body. You lean your head back and buck your hips up already wanting her touch so desperately.

"Patience my love." She coos in your ear making you whine.

But she decided to be nice this time and gives in. Her right hand goes straight down to your already spread legs and her fingers start trailing up and down your soaked slit.

She bites her lips not expecting this much wetness already but then again it was you. And you'd get wet from the littlest of things.

You just loved Kate's touch so much.

And your dampened panties were proof of it.

"Katie please, I need you so badly." You whine and she hums.

You reached down and moved your panties to the side which made Kate chuckle before dipping her fingers in and instantly feeling your arousal soak her fingers.

You moaned and bucked your hips up but Late brought her left hand down and placed it against your stomach to somewhat stop your movements.

"Poor baby already so needy." She coos as the sounds of your wet cunt fill the room.

"Katie." You moaned and felt your eyes roll back as she teased your entrance with the tip of her finger.

"Shh it's okay baby, I've got you." She murmurs and slips two fingers in making you gasp.

Your left arm went to clasp hers which she was happy to see, you were just so cute wanting to continue touching her.

She slides her fingers in slowly then pulls them right back out making you whine until she brought said fingers up to your fingers which you subconsciously opened.

She slipped her fingers into your mouth and you closed your eyes, tasting yourself while you sucked on them. "Good girl." She purred making you moan against her fingers.

"Such a good girl for me." She whispers, giving you a kiss on the cheek before she took her fingers out and went straight back to work.

She slipped them in and this time didn't stop and started immediately fucking them into you. You clenched against them and you kept your eyes closed just for your immersion.

Her fingers always worked their perfect magic on you and you'd never grow tired of it. She always came up with new ways so you never grow "bored" but you never would anyway.

Her left hand moved up your body and came up to squeeze your left breast. You grabbed that arm and just held onto it, not wanting her to stop anything she was doing.

She started pinching your nipple as her pace went harder, faster. Your greedy cunt acting as if it hasn't been getting played with and just sucking up her fingers and enveloping them easily. "F-Fuck-" you whimpered and she kissed your cheek again.

"Feel good mama?" She asks and you nod feverishly.

"So tight too. I'll never grow tired of it." She purrs making you whine once again as she started fucking her harder.

By this point your cunt was pouring out a mix of wetness and creaminess juices, no doubt about to stain the bed.

But that was the least of either of your concerns as you tried spreading your legs out wider and it sure helped. Kate was now able to fuck you deeper but before she did she added a third finger.

At the new angle she was now hitting that sweet spot that had you passing out and seeing stars.

And you've yet to open your eyes.

"Oh fuck Kate— mmm god it feels so good—" you moan and grip her arm as you bring your right hand to play with your right breast for even more stimulation.

"Taking them so well pretty girl." She coos making you moan and you swore with just her praises alone you could come undone.

"Mmm Katie please- please-" you whined and she swore under her breath.

Her boxers were already a mess and your pretty moans were not helping her case. Not a complaint but god those moans drove her insane.

"So beautiful, fucking perfect." She murmurs and you quickly bring a hand down to rub your clit.

You rubbed fast circles on it and soon enough felt your orgasm approach. You figured out you always needed clit stimulation to cum until you met Kate and you suddenly didn't need it.

But sometimes it still felt good to cum that way anyway.

You let out a melody of whimpers and mewls as Kate's fingers were hitting your g spot harder now. You felt that all too familiar feeling in your stomach and your body began to shake.

"Cum for me baby, let go." She whispers and you do.

You let go and cry out as your orgasm hits you and leaving you a shaky, breathless mess. You move your hand away as Kate slowed down and left her fingers inside. You were breathing heavily and Kate brought her left hand to yours and held it softly.

"Did so good for me baby." She praises and kisses your cheek sweetly.

She slips her fingers out of your gently and you finally open your dazed eyes just in time to see her bring them up to her mouth. You look up at her in adoration and just sigh as your breathing calms itself down.

"Didn't even unwrap your present." You mutter and she giggles before wrapping both arms around you softly.

"Sorta counts."

"It does not."

"It should."

You then sit there in silence, enjoying each others company until Kate moves and positions you so your head is on the pillow. "I'll be right back." She whispers, giving your forehead a kiss before running off.

She came back after a few seconds and comes in with some plaid pj pants. "I got you red and green but because I know you love this green..." she says and takes the tag off before putting them on you.

"Perfect! Now I'll go wear my red ones and next week we flip flop." She says excitedly making you smile.

She was the sweetest and most thoughtful, caring person you've ever had the pleasure of meeting and you couldn't believe she was your girlfriend.

How you got so lucky was beyond you but you felt so grateful you found her because she was absolutely your soulmate.

The pea to your pod. The peanut butter to your jelly. The yin to your yang.

Your other half.

Because of her, you were a happier version of yourself and it was all because of how perfect of a girlfriend she was.

She finally came back only this time with her new pj pants on, a hat with the lower half of Santa, and two mugs.

Lucky came in behind her racing towards you, immediately jumping on the bed with another hat which he left on your lap. This one being a cute Christmas tree.

"See I have good taste." She says with a big grin.

"You have the best taste." You respond, grabbing the hat and putting it on.

"How do I look?" You ask as you grab the mug Late was handing to you.

"Absolutely perfect." She sighs and looks at you adoringly.

[mjoffic]

last minute shopping - eddie munson holiday blurb

I work retail and this popped in my head while refolding a graphic tee table and it's truly just a bunch of fluf and eddie being a cute boi

~ enjoy and happy holidays ~

word count: 1.2k

The holidays. A time focused around family, the reason for the season, cozy sweaters and hot cocoa. Twinkling lights couldn't be missed for miles as every house had some sort of big bulk convenience store decoration. No need for 'frosted windows in a can', oh no, Hawkins was seeing a very white Christmas with snow fall never ending and the chill of the wind cutting through every jacket and parka leaving no survivors behind. The joy was like an electric buzz in the air, only one thing could diminish the feeling.

The Starcourt Mall.

Eddie wasn't the best planner, never had been. Despite this year trying his best to be on top of the holidays he still had yet to get something for Uncle Wayne. With Christmas Day only two days away, it was a scramble for the perfect gift and it was absolute hell trying to get anywhere in the mall.

He could try The Gap? Nah, too pricey.

Maybe a gift certificate to Scoops Ahoy? But when would Wayne ever find the time to use it? He's always working.

Eddie sighed in frustration, running a hand through his mop of curls. He took a moment to look around the area, peeking over the heads of bustling mothers herding their kids to meet Santa, dads sitting on benches with shopping bags galore, teenagers running around the food court with their Orange Julius's sloshing all over the place. This was a nightmare. Slim pickings. Would Wayne be upset over a hand drawn card?

He was near giving up when he spotted Macy's on the far end. It was a department store, and while it seemed busy, it wasn't as congested as the inner workings of the mall. He squeezed his way through and slid through a sliver of space in between two groups of families; one included a mother scolding her husband for losing their credit card, the other group had a child crying over not getting the remote control car on the front table. Eddie pursed his lips, so glad he wasn't in that stage of life just yet.

There seemed to be never ending options for Eddie to look through, he wondered why he hadn't stopped in in the first place. It also made this decision much more difficult. He knew that he would definitely be walking out with something, no doubt, but genuinely the starting point slowly began to stump him and he felt his once eager energy depleting. A three pack of ties? When did Wayne dress up? A mug? Sure, lets add to the hundreds of them adorning the trailer wall. Maybe a fancy glass set? Even if the glasses were on sale, it was definitely out of Eddie's comfort range of spending.

"Well the sign says fifty percent off!"

A screech from an older woman pulled Eddie out of his daze and his attention turned to the scene on his right.

"Ma'am, I understand your frustration, however the sign details specifically to the gift sets. This sweater is on the table, but is signed for thirty percent off."

Eddie shifted his gaze from the woman, red in the face, almost matching her Christmas red sweater, to you. You stood behind a counter, not currently in use to ring up customers, but he noticed a stack of scarves next to you. He assumed you'd been cleaning up. You wore emerald green, very festive, and an elf hat to match. Despite your professional aura, the bell on the end of hat could almost send him into a fit of giggles every time your head even moved an inch.

"I'd be more than happy to show you-" you started, before being interrupted.

"You can show me to your manager! This is false advertising!" the women shouted, drawing a few more eyes into encounter.

"Ma'am, I'll have to ask you to keep from yelling in the store," you responded, face void of emotion. "If you would let me-"

"I'll yell if I want to! This is a free country!"

Eddie watched you take a deep breath, before picking a landline off the counter. You typed quietly while the woman continued her banter. You faked a smile to her before speaking again. "Hi, hey Ron, it's Y/n! Yeah, yeah, doing good, hey listen, would you mind sending security down to gifts? I have a disgruntled customer who refuses to listen. Awesome, thanks so much!"

The womens jaw dropped as you placed the phone back to the receiver, Eddie snickering quietly at this interaction.

"Who do you think you are!" the woman shouted, feigning a hand to her chest dramatically. "Do you know who I am?"

You smiled and shook your head, folding your hands on the counter. "No, ma'am, I don't! However I am the manager of this department and am asking you to remove yourself before security gets here."

The woman stared dumbfounded, slowly backing up from your bubble. Eddie stared in wonder at the interaction, and if he was honestly, completed turned on by your dominance.

"Merry Christmas!" you smiled, waving as the woman moved away from the scene.

Eddie noticed security at the end of the walkway and he shook his head, laughing slightly. Finding the nerve to walk up to you, he leaned softly against the counter and looked to the way in which the Grinch had left. "I think that was better than any of those movies playing in the theater right now."

You looked to him when he had approached, and smirked a bit at his words. "I try. Gotta keep some sort of sanity in this place."

"I get it, it's a madhouse in here," Eddie nodded, giving his best smile before extending his hand. "Eddie."

Your smirk simmered into a smile and you shook his hand back, nodding. "Y/n."

"Well, Y/n, I'm wondering if you might be of some use to me," he said, straightening back up.

"Oh?" you questioned, crossing your arms.

"Yeah, I mean, you are the manager of this department," Eddie said. "I'm in the works for the perfect gift."

"Ah," you nodded, stepping out from around the counter and glancing around your section. "Mom? Sibling? Girlfriend?"

Eddie stifled a laugh and he slowly followed beside you. "Uh, no mom. No siblings. And no girlfriend."

Your face erupted in pink and you stumbled over your words. "Oh, um, I'm sorry, I just assumed-"

"Hey, hey," Eddie grinned. "All good here. I'm shopping for my uncle, wanna try to find him something nice. Not much of a budget but I figured I'd find something on sale."

You felt your panic subside and sat a cool hand against your cheek, the heat subsiding. "Well, I'm sure we can find something perfect for him! Maybe something for you? Doesn't hurt to treat yourself sometimes."

Eddie pursed his lips a little bit and dug his hands in his pockets, following slightly behind you. He watched the way the bell of your hat jingled with every step you took. You arms slightly swayed when you walked, and you barely made a sound when taking a step. He began to notice the little things, and started to quietly thank the stars he'd came into the mall after all.

"I think I already have."

[kayhi808]

More Than Our Scars - Part 16

You stroll down Beacon Main St & again, you are reminded of how Hallmark Christmas channel this place looks. It almost makes you gag at how saccharine sweet this place is with the lamp post & store fronts all decorated for Christmas with ribbon & lights. Another part of you wants to escape to this world that is so different than the reality you live in. The cold crispness of the air clears the fogginess in your head. The situation back there with Bill got way out of hand. You were angry, so you know you goaded him on. You don't like discussing your years with Fisk & you may admit now that you're overly sensitive about it.  But Bill's anger & strength is scary as hell. He didn't hurt you at all, but no way could you stay in that room with him and have a clear thought. You needed time to yourself. A little exploing & window shopping was what you needed until even that got to be overwhelming. After being shut-in for so long, maybe you need your freedom back in smaller doses.

You return to the hotel, but aren't ready to see Bill and you still have time before you have to get ready for dinner. You go to the lounge & snag a spot by the fireplace & order some tea. The crackling of the fire & the warmth of the tea after the chill of outside has got you 100% relaxed. You're finishing up your tea, when you feel a tug on your hair. You look back & Billy is smiling down at you.

"Billy," you sigh, "Is something the matter?"

He sits next to you, "No, I just thought I'd come find you." You know there are trackers in the Anvil phones, even Bill's, so you aren't surprised he located you. "I can't wait for dinner. I'm starving."

You smile & push over your uneaten cookies that came with your tea, Billy pops one in his mouth. He has such a sweet tooth. "Should i check to see if they can take us earlier?"

Shakes his head, "I'll wait." Notices your tea is done, "Ready to head up?" Stands and hold his hand out to you.

You enter your room and there are 2 large bouquets of flowers. Billy wraps his arms around you from behind, "I'm so sorry, Y/N."

"You didn't need to do this, Bill."

"I did. I love you...and I hurt you." Shakes his head. "The shop was closing when I called. These were all they had left. They're all kind of random. It was the best this town could do on short notice."

You laugh and turn in Bill's arms, "They are the prettiest I've ever had. Apology accepted." Bill captures your mouth in a kiss, burying his hands in your hair. You run your tongue against the seam of his lips needing him to open to you. He immediately deepens the kiss. The taste of him makes you moan. Your hands go to the button on his pants but he stops you. "What?"

Smiling, "We're not going to make it to our date if we start."

You palm his already hardened cock through his pants, "Yes, we will. If you shut up and stop arguing with me." He lets you unbutton his pants as you slip your tongue into his mouth and give him a squeeze that has him moaning. "Please, Billy. We can make it fast." You teasingly pump his cock while kissing a trail down his neck, ending it in a bite. He has you stripped out if your clothes in record time. He grabs you behind your knees, pulling your thighs to his waist, pinning you to the wall. You feel the head of his cock penetrating your slick folds. Your feet crossing behind his back, "Oh, God."

"Always so ready for me," Billy slowly pushes into you, stretching you to the point of painful pleasure. He fills you so completely. Your head drops to his shoulder. The feel of him pumping inside you with his hands grabbing and squeezing your ass has your breath coming in short pants. His mouth crushes yours in a kiss that demands obedience and submission.

He moves you both to the couch, managing impressively to stay inside you & not breaking contact. With a wicked gleam in his eyes he orders, "Ride me." You begin to move on him, slowly at first and he starts to rub your clit. The greater your need for him the harder you want to ride him. Your brain feels like it shuts down and the hunger and need for Bill over rules everything. You come down hard on his cock. "Good girl." You find yourself fucking him harder and faster. He feels you tighten around him and it makes him groan.

Billy puts more pressure on your clit and you come with a scream. Bill grips your hips and starts fucking up into you. He adjust your body to ensure his cock is brushing up against your gspot. He quickly has you coming again with him. You feel him shooting hot and thick inside you. He breathlessly whispers, "You're amazing." Billy holds you close, dropping kisses on your cheeks & brow.

You lay limp on top of him. No energy or desire to move. Playing with the buttons on his shirt. "You didn't even get undressed."

"We still got date night to go to." Your head pops up from his chest and he laughs at the look on your face. "I take it, date night is cancelled."

"Post-poned. Tomorrow night. I couldn't move to save my life right now." Billy tilts your head so he can kiss you. "I love you, Bill."

"I know, sweetheart." He shifts you to the side, smacks your bottom and goes to the bathroom. You look around the room for your clothes and see them by the door, but you seriously can't move. You don't think you can walk across the room to get your clothes. Your body feels like jelly. What is he doing to you? You feel your cheeks flame with a blush and you bury your face into the couch cushion.

Bill returns and laughs at the naked curled up heap you are on the couch. "Y/N!" You don't move but you start to giggle.

Billy scoops you up in his arms and takes you to the tub he's started for you. He sets you down and you step into the bubbles. The hotel tub is big enough for you both as Bill starts stripping away his clothes to join you. "I told you we'd miss date night if we started."

@idaofinfinity @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @e-dubbc11

Hope you enjoyed some Christmas Billy sex. 😍🔥

[virtuoshosh]

It had been so many years that Shosh had been booked (despite her complaining over it) on December 24th doing back-to-back Christmas concerts that this year, free of Adrian’s demands on her time, she almost didn’t know what to do with herself. An entire birthday to spend exactly as she pleased? It was like a dream.

Made even more unbelievably dreamy by the fact that she’d been spoiled rotten by one Verlie Redlocke for the entirety of it. After an afternoon of shopping in all the designer boutiques where Shosh had only ever dared to gaze in the windows, Verlie had bought out a private box at the Royal Opera House to see The Nutcracker. Then they’d gone for a late supper at a restaurant that wasn’t even open to the public yet, where apparently Verlie knew the chef and owner; the vampire had insisted on sitting and watching Shosh eat a ridiculously lavish, privately-prepared multi-course meal for one, sipping wine and muttering things across the table that made Shosh’s whole body flush.

But when they’d finally gathered their coats to at last end their evening in the nearest available bedroom, Shosh had gotten a call from Sascha, and knew exactly where she was needed tonight. Shosh’s apology to her exquisite date was hushed right off her lips, and she was dropped back off at the Dracula Mansion with a searing kiss and a promise to pick up where they’d left off some other time.

Shosh walked through the lifeless grounds, frost glistening over the decay like black diamonds in the moonlight. Just one year ago, she’d been on the other side of that wrought-iron gate, marveling over this wondrous place as an outsider looking in. A girl who'd demanded so much and knew so little, who'd yearned to slice her tender flesh on every dark, sharp-edged beautiful thing. 

She found Cass precisely where she’d expected him to be. Shosh smiled warmly at her best friend, who one year ago had brought her here, had begrudgingly opened up his world to her, and it had changed her life.

“Thank you,” she breathed, her heart swelling, her dark eyes shining with more gratitude than was really warranted by his somewhat snotty muttering of happy birthday. Shosh walked closer, noting the box that Cass was failing to conceal with his body. She gave him a knowing smile and said, “Sascha called me. I hope that’s alright, that I’m here…can I help?” 

She held out her arms for the box, and after noting some hesitation, Shosh added with earnest, “…I’m not here to be shitty, I promise.” Shoshana Edelman was no stranger to death. At ten years old, she’d sat atop her suitcase and watched a winged creature as black as the night fly overhead; she’d grown comfortable with omens of death in the world before she even knew what they were.

So death didn't unnerve her; it was her constant, her longest friend. She was sure as hell always dressed for a funeral.

Carefully, Cass placed the box of whatever it was that Sascha had retrieved from the Vampire High Council of Pomonia’s remains—all that was left in this world of Cass’ longtime donor and abuser. And with equal care, without so much as a disdainful grimace, Shosh moved to the hole Cass had dug up in front of the tree, and gently lowered the box into it with something like reverence. Shosh may have hated Pomonia for what she’d done to her best friend, she may have been glad the woman was gone, but Shoshana could still show respect for the dead. It was second-nature, to Shosh, at this point.

She looked back at Cass, nodding for him to come closer, and when he’d reached her side Shosh didn’t hesitate to reach out and grab his hand, which felt icy even through the satin fabric of her long black opera gloves. She laced their fingers together and squeezed hard before tucking her head onto his shoulder. “Do you want to say something?”

When Cass eventually looked up at his elder, shame riddled his features, as if the vampire could see right through him. He expected to be called out for his lie, expecting that either Shosh or Henry would have spilled his deepest secrets at some point. Instead, Cass folded his arms, letting his gaze drop back down again until they finally took his glass.

Cass swallowed, picking up his jacket and shrugging it on, offering the other a wry smile that broke the tension. “I trust you with the clothes,” He quirked a brow, “If you hurt Shosh… Well. I can’t promise any throat ripping won’t occur.” He gave a playful grin, then headed for the door.

He turned for Sascha when the other called him, expecting some sort of farewell or instructions for when to return for another fitting. The information he was given instead… Wrecked him. They held onto something. It sliced down his stomach, and Cass stood, feeling every inch of his guts spill out into his hands. He could feel his throat sliding down into his belly.

He wrapped his arms around his waist, gripping the edges of his jacket as he paled. Cass nodded stiffly, and even through his very visible pain, he croaked, “… Please.”

—

Truthfully, Cass had not expected anything. He did his best to erase Sascha’s offer from the back of his mind as the days led towards Christmas. Normally, he would have planned a night in for Shosh’s birthday, but Verlie had whisked her away for a romantic evening somewhere, and Cass was left trying to work out how to navigate his first Christmas without his Dad.

He’d been eating a bag of powdered doughnuts in the sitting room when the box arrived, a note warning Cass of its contents affixed. Cass had sat for a while, staring at it, doughnuts forgotten, before he suddenly scooped it up, grabbing his coat and marching outside.

The entirety of the Dracula Mansion’s backyard was dead. Henry had always wanted to hire a gardener to fix it up nicely, but given he’d never be able to walk around in the sunshine to enjoy it, he hadn’t been bothered. Cass stalked through the tangle of weeds and branches until he found a blackened, ashy tree.

Keeping the box tucked under one arm, Cass removed his wand from his pocket and pointed it at the frozen ground before the tree, watching as it shovelled a nice hole. When it was large enough, Cass let his wand drop, then looked down at the box under his arm. He took it in both hands, and closed his eyes.

Even though the memories were tainted, brushed with the indelible traumas that she’d laid on him, he missed them. It’s complicated, His therapist had said, leaning forward, But that’s being human, Cass. Human relationships are complicated.

He remembered her. He remembered the woman who’d taken an interest in him, who’d nurtured his natural love and talent of music, who’d suggested he turn his play room into a music room. Who taught him to dance. Who trekked miles into snowy Scotland to ensure he’d be nourished through school. Who held him when he cried. He could remember her heartbeat, flush against his ear, steady and rhythmic…

Cass could almost hear it then and there, echoing in his ears. Wait- no, he could definitely hear a heartbeat. Cass frowned, turning to try and place the scent of the human who approached. When he saw her, Cass turned again, curling over the box slightly, as if trying to hide what he was doing. He reached up, quickly trying to dash away any snotty tears, before clearing his throat and offering the best smile he could manage. “Happy Birthday, Shosh.”

[hero-is-back]

that special time of year is approaching ☺️ (a million essays due during Christmas)

[mallowstep]

(nature; nurture)

You know the truth of yourself in pieces.

* * *

You are three, sitting on your mother's lap.

"And you understand this is a life-long commitment?"

"Yes," she says.

"And Mothkit, Frogkit, and Hawkkit, do you want Feathertail to be your mother?"

"She is our mama," Hawkkit says, and the woman laughs.

"That settles it, then."

* * *

Growing up is not a balloon inflating, the way you once pictured it. It is a crab moulting over and over again, exposing its softest parts, in hopes it survives.

* * *

You are the first to go to kindergarten. Only by a few minutes, but still. That feels like it counts for something.

You kiss your mother's cheek, and then drop your bag. A man crouches down beside you. "And what's your name?"

"Mothkit!" you say, and he shows you where to put your bag. You glance back at your mother as you venture deeper into the classroom. She wipes a few tears from her eyes.

* * *

Unlike a crab, you cannot reabsorb what you lose. Your teeth are collected in a box, exchanged for a few quarters, occasionally a dollar. Your hair is swept up and thrown away. You go shopping, and now there are two sections you have to examine. One for you, one for your brothers.

* * *

Stormheart picks you up for school, and no one is waiting in the passenger seat. You all climb in, and you end up stuck in the middle.

"Where's Mama?" you ask.

"She's at home," Stormheart says. He glances back at you for a second, smiling. "She's just having a bad day."

You kick off your shoes at the door when you get home, dropping your bag on the kitchen table. Your brothers are slower, but you peek through the crack in her door before Stormheart catches up with you.

She's asleep, not facing you. Mistyfoot is on the other side of the bed, reading a book.

Stormheart scoops you up. "Come on, bug," he whispers. "Let's go play outside."

* * *

But your soft parts stay the same, just growing between each exchange. You ask her about your father many times, and her answers drift, circling around a truth you want her to finish. You slip into her room after having a nightmare, and find her sobbing. You make a family tree, and stare frustrated at the missing names.

* * *

You follow her out to the garden. Frogpaw spends more time out here than you do, but you're bored, and your mother is here, digging tiny troughs into the earth.

You cross your legs on the grass beside her. She smiles at you. "Are you going to stay out here?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want a hat?"

"No." The sun is warm, and you lean down, your elbows pressing into the dirt. "What are you planting?"

"Poppies," she says. "Do you want to help?"

You shake your head. Feathertail takes a handful of sandy dirt, and pours the bag of seeds onto it.

"Mama?" you ask, and she lifts her brow. "What's assault?"

Feathertail pauses what she's doing, and looks questioningly at you. "Where'd you hear that?"

"It was on a TV show." You fidget with blades of grass. "I wasn't really watching."

Feathertail sighs. "It's -- when you hurt someone," she says. "When you attack them."

* * *

But you are not a crab. You are a girl, and you are changing. Your father sends you a letter and asks you if you're a help to your mother. You grapple with the undeniable proof he's in prison, like she explained a year or two ago. You shoot up past your brothers over the summer, and have to buy new clothes. A new garment comes with it. Feathertail cleans a few things out of a room you can't think of as hers, and it becomes yours. Your soft parts move, find new places in need of protection.

* * *

Sometimes, you want to explain everything to Leafpaw, all in one breath. You want to say, My mother didn't give birth to me, but I know who did, and I was not wanted, except that I was, and my father believes I am capable of nothing, and my period has started, and I don't know what that means, and I think you are beautiful.

You don't say any of that.

* * *

But you are not a crab, so you find traces of your past exoskeletons, the ones that didn't fit. A shirt you wore five years ago. A diary you can barely understand. A folded piece of paper you do not open. They don't make sense with who you are, and yet, they are who you were.

* * *

Shadepelt teaches you how to use make up. Feathertail and Mistyfoot don't wear any, but she does, and she makes it look easy and fun and flawless.

It's much harder when you have to do it.

Hawkpaw and Stonefur arrive home when you are scrubbing it off in the bathroom downstairs. You don't come down here very often, and it is strange to think that this space is a part of your home.

When your face is clean, you trudge upstairs. The air is tense, Hawkpaw and Frogpaw staring across the kitchen table at each other, Feathertail watching them.

"I'm -- allowed to know," Hawkpaw says.

"What do you want to know?" Frogpaw says. "We know everything we need to."

"Maybe you do," Hawkpaw says.

You glance at Feathertail. Her back is to you.

You slide unnoticed into your room, and pull out the stack of letters from your father. You read them all once, exactly, and then add them to the stack you keep in your bottom desk drawer. There's no point in rereading them.

But you run your thumb over them, listening to the way the old, dried paper crinkles.

Frogpaw is asking the wrong question. It's why Hawkpaw wants to know that matters.

* * *

Freshman year draws to a close, and you think you are in your final moult. Leafpaw falls asleep on your shoulder on the way home from a field trip, and you hold hands as you wait to be picked up. You haven't outgrown any clothes in months, and your brothers are now taller than you. You look in the mirror, and realize this will always be the face that looks back at you.

* * *

There is always talk. You try to ignore the worst of it,

("Well, Hawkpaw is a creep," and, "I heard their mother doesn't love them," and, "Bet you can't wait to see your daddy,")

but that's easier said then done.

Leafpaw squeezes your hand. "They don't know what they're talking about," she says.

But they do. That's the problem. They're wrong, but they know what they're talking about.

A junior Mothpaw doesn't know sits beside her at lunch, in Leafpaw's space.

"You should move," Squirrelpaw says.

"No one's sitting here."

"Someone will be."

True to form, as soon as Leafpaw bursts into the cafeteria, she forces herself between Mothpaw and the junior.

The junior rolls her eyes. "I was wondering," she begins, "how you feel about the death penalty."

* * *

There are still old memories you revisit. Feathertail is hospitalized for the third time you can remember, and you log your hours for drivers' ed as you practice making the trip back and forth.

* * *

On Halloween, you take the bucket of candy Feathertail gave the three of you to share and sit on the back porch. Frogpaw and Hawkpaw keep stuffing their faces long after you've finished, and you feel like you're witnessing something obscene.

"I did some math," Frogpaw says. "We were born a month early." He throws a candy bar up, and it lands on his stomach. "Means we were conceived around New Years."

He throws the bar up again, and this time it lands in his hands.

"You ever want to throw a party? Just one. Make a bunch of food for dinner and sit around the table and call all the different dishes courses?"

"What the hell are you saying?" Hawkpaw asks.

"I think i'm just saying something," Frogpaw says. "I think I'm just hoping if I say enough things, I'll find the right thing to say.

* * *

You get your license. It says your name on the card, Mothpaw, daughter of Feathertail, and ask for permission to drive the car.

You don't have a plan for where you're going, and you end up in front of a cathedral.

* * *

The stress of junior year threatens to break you. College applications loom, your classes grow teeth, and you start to bicker with Leafpaw over petty things.

You read over the essay requirement for colleges, and think about what kind of essay you could write. Because there's really only one story worth telling, and it feels wrong, to type out all of your family to a stranger.

It makes you glad you started early. "My mother was fourteen when we were born," you write, and then scratch out. "My father is alive. We know who the other is. I've never met him," you write, and then erase. "I don't know who I am," you write, and then you keep writing.

* * *

At some point, you decide you don't believe. But. You keep coming back. There is something reassuring in routine. Your family doesn't ask where you are going, and you don't volunteer it. Sunday morning. There's some kind of peace, in having the time to sit and think and be.

* * *

"I think I've messed everything up," Leafpaw says. "I've gone about this all the wrong way, and now, everything is terrible, and this is all my fault, Mothpaw, I'm sorry-"

You kiss her, and then lean your forehead against hers. "We're both at fault," you say. "Besides. Maybe the honeymoon is over. We've got lives to attend."

And Leafpaw, inextricably, is part of that life. You can think of the essays you would've written about her. How her hair looks brown until it catches the sun, and then it shines like red glass. How she stomps when she is excited. How she links arms with you and says you're going shopping until you find your family Christmas gifts.

* * *

They invite you to a class, but it feels strange, knowing you don't believe. How do you say, I am here, and I am not, and I don't think you'd really want me.

You don't. You kneel down and offer a prayer to a god you don't believe in. Maybe it will catch.

* * *

Feathertail listens to you practice your speech.

"I'm so proud of you," she says. "You know that, right?"

You nod. She tells you this often, but something about her tone makes your throat catch. You've outgrown the days when Feathertail's arms could surround you, but even so, you start to cry when she hugs you.

"I love you," you say.

"I love you too," she says. She settles back onto the couch, wrapping her hands around a mug of tea.

This is the truth of who you are. This is what you will always fail to capture. How can you describe how the light streams inside at an angle that you've always known, one that makes the dust swirl through it? How can you describe the books on the coffee table, how each book has been read and loved, not merely thrown there for decoration? How can you describe yourself in any way but being there?

* * *

You meet your father's eyes. You know them. You have seen them in the mirror.

* * *

You hold your diploma in one hand, stopping for a photo. You were the first to enter kindergarten, you were the last to leave high school.

The excited chatter in the air is a reminder of what this day is. You have all bought your final yearbooks, signed names and numbers you won't remember in a few months. You're in it a few times -- Feathertail and Leafpaw delighted in hunting for your every appearance -- and you think, maybe it is okay if you are pieces.

There is something whole and solid that is made of them.

[plant-flwrs]

a secret santa proposal // george weasley

masterlist!

a/n: i think this and one more with neville are my last christmas fics! just winter themed ones after that! i actaully love this fic so much, i’ve always been so intrigued by the next generation of weasley kids and this is the first fic i’ve gotten to include them in (plus teddy lupin because i couldn’t help myself). as always, thank you so much for reading <33

(implied female reader)

summary: George gets you the perfect secret Santa gift

(2.6k)

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George had gone to Diagon Alley nearly every day this week. His feet hurt when he got home from walking all day, and at some point, he even got some windburn on his lips.

You and George were due at the burrow on Friday for a Christmas dinner. A Christmas dinner that would end with secret Santa gift exchanges.

You had picked Ginny, deciding to get her a lovely scarf and matching cardigan almost right after finding out you got her. George, however, was having a little more difficulty.

George wanted this year’s gift to be perfect. He felt even more pressure knowing you’d be opening his gift in front of his entire family, rather than in the privacy of the flat you shared.

“Honey, come back to bed,” you groaned when you felt his weight shift off the bed, patting your hand on his now empty side of the bed.

“I can’t, shops open soon,” he grumbled, shuffling into the bathroom at the ungodly hour it was.

He had been refusing to tell you who he got, insisting that the secret part was the most fun of it all. You rolled your eyes but indulged his secrecy. This, however, was getting too much. You wanted a lay-in with your boyfriend, for god’s sake.

George walked against the wind- scarf pulled over his lips after learning his lesson- as he neared the shop he had been looking for. 

It was a muggle jewelry shop. 

The idea had come to him the second he picked your name, but something in him was making him second guess himself. You had been dating for four years, you were serious adults, and he loved you more than anything in his life. Still, he had doubts.

What if you thought Christmas engagements were cheesy? What if you thought he was going too fast? What if you walked out and left him at his family home on his knee?

George paced in front of the shop, glancing at the door and reaching out to open it every once and a while only to retract his hand. Eventually, he worked up the nerve and opened the door. If he was this nervous to even enter the shop, how would he choose a ring? How the hell would he manage to propose? 

Once inside, he took off his beanie and shook his hair out, glancing around the store. It was warm and quiet, filled with dazzling amounts of jewelry. 

All the hesitation he had felt left him at once, and he knew he had to do this. He knew this was right, and he knew fairly quickly which ring he was going to get you. He left, walking along the street and back to the Three Broomsticks. He entered Diagon Alley, determined to now find a decent fake gift. 

On Friday night, you closed the tin for some cookies you had been baking all day, wrapping the tin in a deep red bow. You tucked it under your arm, lifting the gift bag with yours and George’s secret Santa gifts. George was waiting for you in the living room, dressed in a handsome sweater and brown corduroy pants, smiling widely at you. 

George had been frighteningly happy recently, though you supposed he was just in the Christmas spirit.

You apparated to the Weasley house, just outside the front door. You raised your hand to knock, but George was already slamming it open with the full force of his shoulder. You followed him inside, glancing apologetically at Molly as she rushed over to hug you both. 

“Finally!” she released George and moved onto you, hugging you with a strong grip, “My babies are all home!”

You noticed everyone else had already arrived, gathered around the ground floor of the house. Teddy Lupin and Victoire stood in the kitchen with Fleur and Bill, laughing while Bill hid bits and pieces of food in his wife’s hair. Ron and Hermione sat on the couch with Rose bundled in Hermione’s arms, Ron waving his fingers in her face with a dazed look on his own. Harry bounced James on his knee as he sat at the table next to Ginny, who cradled Albus in her hands as she and Harry listened to Arthur talk about his new muggle discoveries. Percy was standing behind his mother, holding his daughter’s hand as she swayed on her feet, just learning to walk.

Molly held your arms, looking down at what you had brought.

“Did you make these, dear?” she took the tin from your hands, smiling wider when you nodded and brought them to the kitchen. 

George took the gift bag from you and moved it to the tree, making his greetings at everyone he passed.

You went to the kitchen, catching Bill’s eye and smiling back at him.

“Y/n!” he called, spreading his arms out to you and pulled you into him. You hugged Fleur, picking the food from her hair as she scolded Bill jokingly. 

“Hey Teddy,” you said, placing a hand on the top of his head, “you’ve gotten so tall!”

It was true, the young boy had already shot up like a bean-post, the top of his head stopping at your waist. His bright blue hair stood out even more the higher it got. He looked strikingly like his parents, you thought, with a sad smile.

“Hullo,” he said joyously, leaning into your side and giving you a hug.

“Hiya, Aunt Y/n,” Victoire called from beside Teddy, though a good size smaller, and coming to your other side to clutch at your legs as she hugged you.

“What’re you guys making?” you asked them, looking at the food scattered across the counter Victoire could barely see over. You lifted her up, balancing her on your hip and still keeping a hand on Teddy’s head.

“No idea,” Bill joked from beside you, now putting food in Victoire’s strawberry blonde hair, “having too much fun to care.”

You laughed, and Teddy looked up from your side at Victoire’s now food covered hair. Fleur reached over Bill to swat his hands away, cleaning her daughter’s hair.

“I brought those cookies you guys like,” Bill, Teddy, and Victoire’s eyes lit up, all of them looking around to find them.

“After dinner, you lot,” Molly said as she came into the kitchen, swatting the back of Bill’s head.

She came to your side, reaching for Victoire, and you gladly shifted her over. Teddy seemed consumed in whatever he was making, his brows furrowed in concentration. You left the kitchen, going to the kitchen table where Harry, Ginny, and Arthur still were, along with the children.

James’ face lit up once he saw you, and he held his arms out to you with grabbing hands. He nearly wiggled out of Harry’s grip, and Harry seemed all too happy to hand him over to you once you sat down next to Ginny.

“Hey, love,” she said, bending to kiss your cheek in greeting. You kissed hers, smiling widely at Harry and Arthur. You leaned down to kiss James’ cheek too, sending him into a fit of giggles that made Harry swoon from beside you.

“How are you, James?” you cooed at him, only to be answered with baby noises. You knew it wasn’t approved of, but you did have favorites. Teddy and James had a special place in your heart.

Arthur balanced his chin on his palm, gazing at his grandchildren.

“Happy Christmas,” he said, smiling at you and James.

“Happy Christmas,” you said back, now looking over at Albus who was sleeping in Ginny’s arms.

“Oi,” she said, leaning forward to look at her husband, “your turn, Potter.”

Harry chuckled, standing to retrieve Albus gently from his wife. 

“I’m gonna put him upstairs, let him get his rest,” Harry whispered, even though it made no difference compared to the noisy house around them.

Ginny nodded, looking happy to have empty arms for a second. James was still content in your arms, so you decided to stay for a moment, at least until Harry came back. James seemed to have other plans though, eventually making grabbing hands at his grandfather. Arthur seemed to have been waiting for this moment, immediately lighting up and reaching for James. You stood, obliging James’ wishes, and bent to talk to Ginny.

“I’ll be right back, gonna go say ‘hi’ to Ron and Hermione,” Ginny only hummed in response, busy watching her son sit on her father’s lap.

You walked into the living room, where Ron was now holding Rose. Hermione seemed to be sifting through a very full diaper bag, and you wouldn’t be surprised if it had an extending charm. 

“Hey, Y/n,” Ron said when he saw you, his tired face lifting in an energetic smile.

Your eyes moved to the spit-up on his shoulder, and you smiled back at him, amused at his joy.

“Hi, happy Christmas,” you said sitting next to Ron so you could look at Rose. 

“Oh,” Hermione looked up, holding a clean towel in her hands, “hello, dear, didn’t see you.” 

You smiled at her, leaning over Ron to squeeze her hand in somewhat of a greeting. You looked at Rose, fast asleep in Ron’s arms.

“Harry’s just put Albus to sleep upstairs, I’m sure you could put Rose up there, too, if you wanted,” you whispered, careful not to wake the baby.

“Did he?” Hermione said hopefully, then she cast a knowing look at Ron.

“Up I go,” he said with no hesitation, standing carefully from the couch.

Hermione slumped down, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, “This shit is hard.”

You both laughed, and eventually, Ginny and George joined you in the living room.

Ginny held a glass of what looked like an alcoholic drink, smirking at Hermione’s pained look. “Stopped breastfeeding the other day. Good to be back,” Ginny downed her drink, laughing more when Hermione groaned in what you assumed was jealousy.

George had settled into the couch next to you, wrapping his arm around you as he cradled a beer in his hand. You took it from him, stealing a sip and laughing at his groan that was similar to Hermione’s.

“Y/n!” three pairs of stomping feet sounded into the living room, matched with happy giggles. Teddy stood in front of you, James’ tiny hand clutched in his as he helped him stand and walk. Teddy was more dragging James than letting him walk on his own, but Ginny nor James seemed to mind. Victoire was not far behind, stumbling on her own feet as she crashed into your legs.

George picked her up, settling her on his lap and delving into a discussion about how pretty her dress was.

“I made this for you,” Teddy said, holding out a gingerbread cookie that was dripping in enormous amounts of frosting.

“Wow,” you said, carefully taking the cookie, “Teddy, this looks amazing.”

He smiled proudly, barely noticing James retracting his hand and crawling over to his mother. Teddy simply crawled into your lap, nearly too big to do so, and looked down at the cookie in your hands.

“Will you try it?” he said, smiling widely.

You looked down at the cookie, then at Teddy. It looked like a stomach ache waiting to happen, and you tried to think of an excuse not to eat it without hurting his feelings. Suddenly, however, George was leaning over and taking a large bite from the cookie. He then stole the rest of the cookie with his free hand, holding it up to your face. You playfully scolded him, then smiled sweetly at Teddy. George only made you take a small bite, holding out one of the legs with the littlest amount of frosting. You ate it, moaning in delight and nodding your head at Teddy. He swelled with pride, smiling smugly up at you.

You all sat in the living room like that until Molly called everyone to dinner. The table had been moved outside, per usual, and extended to fit everyone. Molly was a firm believer in not having a kid’s table, so the children who could walk rushed to their desired seats. Arthur and Percy sat at the heads of the table, and everyone scattered from there. You and George sat in the middle, and George had to rush to beat James from stealing his spot next to you. Teddy sat to your left, George to your right, and when you weren’t cutting Teddy’s food, George was jokingly pestering you to cut his. 

The dinner was as lively as always, and the cold air was barred away by a spell Arthur had done around the house. 

Soon, it was time for secret Santa. Molly magically cleared the table, something that made Teddy swoon beside you, and then magically transported all the gifts to the table. She levitated the first one from the bag, and the exchanges started from there. 

Fleur had been your secret Santa, and she got you a compilation of books you had mentioned wanting. You thanked her from across the table, showing Teddy and reading to him what he didn’t understand. You watched everyone else get their presents, going one at a time, and finally, with no presents left, Molly levitated your gift to Ginny from the bag.

Ginny smiled widely and immediately put on both the cardigan and the sweater, standing and coming to hug you from behind. 

Soon, a large box wrapped in white paper was levitated in front of you. You hadn’t been keeping track of who’s gifts were from who, even though you should have been, and unwrapped the box quickly. Inside was a lovely, blooming plant with bright flowers and a lovely ceramic pot. You lifted it carefully, hearing Molly gasp in delight when she saw it. Then, you heard a round of gasps and looked up from the plant, confused as to why everyone was so surprised by some flowers.

You quickly understood, though, that they had not gasped at the flowers.

Beside you, with his chair pushed away and on his knee, George propped open a small box. It held a gorgeous ring, and you felt your eyes water before you could even take a breath. You hadn’t let him get a word in, and you knew he had a whole speech planned, and collapsed out of your chair and into George’s arms.

He stumbled, nearly falling backward, but wrapped his arms around you. You pulled away, only enough to see the ring he cradled in between your chests, and let out a happy sob. George did too, and you looked up to see his cheeks were wet. You pressed your forehead to his, wiping his cheeks and laughing. You kissed him, hard, but barely managed to because you couldn’t stop smiling. 

He pulled away, carefully holding your hand in his shaking hands, and slid the ring onto your finger. You heard clapping around you, and you remembered the rest of your family there. Hermione and Molly had tears running down their faces, and all the children were bouncing in their seats with the energy, not entirely sure of what was happening. Ginny was by your side first, hugging you again, and then George. This broke the flood gates and soon everyone was wrapping either you or George in their arms.

You longed to touch George, but hugged everyone back, just the same, until finally, you could hug your fiancé. 

“Happy Christmas,” George said, his face buried in your neck as he hugged you tightly.

“Happy Christmas,” you replied, holding your arm out and looking at your ring from behind George’s back. “God, George, you have impeccable taste.”

He laughed, pulling apart from you and gazing down at you, “Don’t I know it.”

[katsukikitten]

In which you find yourself fake dating Bakugou to appease his mother. Thank @bakugotrashpanda​ that I even write. Comment your thoughts below or if you’re shy leave me an ask! AGED UP/PRO HERO AU, and dolls there are currently no warnings.   Part on is HERE

Anger fuels your actions as you withdraw a knife, face twisted into a feral snarl as you close the distance between you and your not so lucky boss. He matches your disgusted features, closing faster than you can to keep your knife from finding purchase between his third and fourth ribs. He corners you out of sight, the woman who was attending to you turns away with a blush. Truly thinking the two of you were having an intimate moment when it was anything but.

"This joke isn't fucking funny." You growl struggling to keep your voice low as his vice grip on your biceps becomes harsher. 

"It's not a fucking joke." He hisses, before one of his hands runs through his hair. A sign of stress you noticed for the ash blonde, while the other hand sets blunt nails into your skin. You blow air through your nose as if you were a steaming dragon waiting for him to explain. 

"My mom won't leave me the hell alone about a girlfriend. Like I fucking have time for one." He starts and you break away from his grip.  

"Then we just pretend." A huff while he shakes his head. 

"But we have to make it look good. She will expect PDA, and a lot of it." You laugh at his statement while he looks away. 

"Please as if Dynamight is touchy feely." You tease making hand motions as you let your fingers play against his clothed muscles. He gives you a pointed look, something odd shines deeply in those dark eyes. Something like hurt, your smile falters for a moment as you watch him peek over a guarded wall. 

"Growing up I was. And still am with people I...know well. Plus she's already seen me in a serious relationship." 

"Then why aren't you bringing her?" The venom escapes you faster than you can stop it. Regret blooms in your stomach as you watch his guard blow sky high, burning sugar fills the air. His glare pure anger as he bites out 

"She only loved me for my Pro-hero money." 

He turns away from you to collect himself, angry that he's still angry over a bitch that should be long forgotten. Still your tongue was sharper than any knife on your thick yet fit body. He sighs, trying to let the tension free from his shoulders before he reluctantly offers you his large, ungloved hand. 

The thought of your bare palm touching his sends your stomach into a summersault before he grabs onto your hand himself, even interlacing your fingers. 

It had been years since you held someone's hand, let alone been close enough to smell them. A cold sweat prickles over your skin before he speaks. 

"Let's make this shit look good." 

With that he pulls you out of the store, setting off rhythmic short blasts so nothing but blinding light can be caught on film. Some camera's lose their lenses thanks to your sly hands as you shove them deep in Bakugou's jacket that he insisted you'd wear over your cute outfit. That his mom would take it more seriously that you wore his clothes that he might have offered to you. 

Your hand feels warm in Bakugou's as he guides the two of you down the street, eyeing jewelry through glass windows here and there. He tries to keep his focus on the way to the bakery instead of how small your hand is in his.

"So is there something special about tonight's dinner? Any sort of occasion?" You prompt, anything to avoid the squeezing in your heart. 

"It's her birthday today." He says nonchalantly as your anxiety skyrockets. 

"Birthday?! Baku-" 

"Katsuki." He cuts you off, sending you a glare, "It has to be Katsuki or some dumb pet name from now on, Princess."

You point daggers as you glare up at him, his slightly messy hair dances in the wind as his faded sides do anything to protect him from the biting cold. You think to offer him his jacket back, it felt three sizes too big. 

"Look, Katsuki a birthday dinner is a big fucking deal. She'll think we are serious." The two of you stop just before the bakery, he let's go of your hand to open the door for you, a habit he's picked up from Kirishima. You step inside the warmth and let the smell of mouth watering sweets over take your senses. The smell fights with the smokey sweet scent that rolls off of Bakugou as he crowds closer to you due to the busy cafe.

"Good. She needs to think we are. Before you say anything else it's one dinner. She won't remember by Christmas." He snarls, pressing his hand into your lower back to gently push you forward in line. Suddenly someone behind the counter waves to catch your attention. 

"Ah Dyna-" The clerk clears his throat before he causes a frenzy, most people already too timid of Bakugou to approach him, having you the tough as nails hero by his side makes him seem even deadlier. 

"Bakugou-sama. I just finished the decorations for the order. Would you like to approve it?" 

"Yea yea." He says cooly, eyes glancing over his usual cup of an iced americano, he taps the lid and the Barista gives him her full attention. Lashes batting as she practically squirms with pleasure beneath his weighted gaze, you fight to keep the disgust off your face. How could anyone fawn over this wet blanket?

"I need a toasted white mocha iced coffee with sweet cream." His voice is smooth and she begins to get to work even without his please but you're caught too off guard to scold him.  How did he know your coffee order? 

You always went to get the coffee with Kirishima and only then for an excuse to get out of the office and away from a pig headed blonde. 

"Trying something new?" She asks as she sets it down, her number clearly written on this cup as well. You keep your face blank as she ignores you. 

"Maybe." He says giving her little eye contact as the owner pushes her away to show off the cake.  He removes the lid of the box and before it is all the way off a genuine, although small, smile forms on his face as he stares at the beautiful array of flowers in icing. Another surprise that his face can go so soft before it changes in an instant. His normal cocky smile returning as he removes his wallet and over pays for it all. 

"This is too…" But the owner is cut off by a nasty vermillion glare before he passes you your coffee grabbing for his own and the bag. 

"See ya round." Is all he offers before slipping out of the ringing door. Stunned into silence you drink your delicious drink as you two make your way back to his car. 

"It's cold enough that the icing won't get fucked up. Are you cold? I want to get that hag one more thing. Not sure what though." He says gently placing the cake into the floorboard of the back seat. 

"Well for starters I'm sure she'd love it if you stopped calling her a hag. That's rude, dickface." You say finishing your coffee, body singing from the much needed energy. He rolls his eyes at your comment, grabbing for your trash as he tosses his empty cup as well. 

"Yea well, she pisses me off." He grunts, eyes shifting for cameras before letting his hand slide down your forearm to your hand. You jolt from the touch but absentmindedly lean into his warmth. 

"Mmhmm." You affirm with a bit of an attitude. He sneers down at you as the two of you actively look for anything that screams Bakugou Mitsuki. 

Although you aren't so sure you know what that would be. Your mind wanders to what his family is like as his molten eyes rove over window shops and glare at passer byers. Anyone with their phone out and aimed at him gets an especially intimidating look. 

"Do we have a background to our fake relationship?" You ask, curiosity bubbling through your bloodstream carried by caffeine. 

"Kinda explains itself doesn't it?" He prompts, "We work together a lot. She's heard your name before." 

"Oh." Is all you can say, would his mom ask for details? Well it wouldn't be too hard to believe that she would want the story most likely from you, hoping you'll gush over the details any other man would skimp. A sigh leaves your lips before your eyes catch an odd glint in the light, ahead of you two is a small woman beneath a parasol as if the lazy winter sun threatened the day. Your eyes blow wide as she turns, heart racing in your chest as you see the black kimono and fox mask slightly askew. 

Quickly you grab onto Bakugou's black dress shirt, backing yourself up against a brick wall, guiding him with you. 

"What are you doing?" He hisses as your brain panics, he sees a rare twinge of fear in your eyes. Setting him in high alert, his skin crackles as he tries to summon his quirk. 

"It's just...I think I saw my ex and I'm not ready to see him yet." A lie, a bold face lie as you fight the screaming need in your blood. To withdraw a knife, to send it through that bitch's third eye chakra. 

But if you did, then everyone would know. 

Bakugou would know. 

You gulp down the instinct. 

"Where?" He growls leaning closer to you to block your face. The busy crowd overlaps the petite woman in black before it parts again leaving you with an uneasy pit in your stomach. 

"I-" You catch your breath, smoothing his dress shirt as your eyes are fixated to the spot, "I guess I only thought I saw him." 

Your voice threatens to crack and in the three years the two of you have worked closely together, he has never seen you like this. Worried, disheveled almost. He leans in close, leveling himself to you as he stares into your eyes. 

"Did he…?" His eyes linger over your scars for a second, unknowingly and for the first time, Bakugou makes you feel weak. Your eyes screw into a nasty sneer before you give him a light shove. 

"No." You hiss, wanting to cross your arms but after what looked like a kiss, you gently relax your face, grabbing for his hand as you pull him along.  Suddenly tired of the easy stroll and knowing exactly what to get his mother.  

"A watch? Not a bad idea." He says as the two of you look over the case. 

"No, too old fashioned. Your mom would like this." A smile forms on your lips as your finger taps the glass case over a silver bracelet. In your head you've seen four different ways to take the bracelet without alarm or notice until it was much too late. Instead you flag someone down. 

"Do you all still inscribe in house?" You ask, earning a nod from the attendant, "Perfect. Now Ba- Katsuki you just have to think of something nice to say." 

He glares down at the bracelet for a long time before he writes something down on the form. After an hour the man returns asking Bakugou to confirm the writing after a nod and a few minutes the hot head is passed a delicate white bag. 

Time blurs together as your eyes search the crowd for a haunting fox mask while Bakugou guides the two of you to the car. Shutting the passenger door behind you and only then do you let out a heavy sigh of relief. 

The drive isn't long before Bakugou pulls up in front of a nice two story townhome, parking his black sports car.

"Get out." He states, slipping out of the car himself only to wait impatiently by your door. 

"This is turning into a lot more than half a day." 

"Make it through this dinner and I'll make it worth your while." He snarls, picking up the gift and cake before heading to the front door. He slides in his old key and opens the door to his childhood home expecting you to follow him in. Tentatively you do, slipping off your shoes much slower than him as he rushes to the kitchen. Your heart rushes in your ears banging against your ribcage as your mind races. You had never been in a home so nice before, well not invited anyway. You always had to resort to climbing through windows or picking the lock to reveal the shiny contents of inside. 

Was this what it was like to grow up in a home?

Your third thought only after mentally logging the windows and doors, listing the valuables in descending order. Your eyes wander over the pictures on the foyer table, you smirk to yourself as you see a tiny Bakugou with what must be his mother and Father. They are all laughing and for a moment your heart hurts as you think of your sister shivering under a piss covered blanket.

"Oi! Come here." Bakugou calls from somewhere within the house, you pass the stairs and small hall into the dining room with tatami doors that open into the kitchen. 

"Sit." He orders, pointing to the low dining room table. 

"I'm not a dog, I'm your 'date' Asshole." You snarl, "What are you doing anyway?" 

"What's it fucking look like? I'm cooking! Ma will be home by the time I'm done. Get comfortable, bitch face." 

"Wow what a great pet name." You hiss, collapsing into the pillows with a sigh, part of you wished this was a kotatsu so you could take a nap. Instead you stare at the ceiling mind wandering as the smell of something good floats through the house. You think of how warm the home feels compared to the blistering wind that whips outside, reminding you that maybe you should fix your hair before meeting his parents. 

"Bathroom?" You whine, still unmoving on the floor. The hot head sticks half his body over the threshold to stare down at you. His glare speaks a thousand words. 

"Yea yea hands to myself I got it." 

"Upstairs, to the right."

"Got it boss!" You fake salute from the floor before rising. Taking the stairs quickly, fully intending to take a right but the door at the top of the stairs is slightly open. A faint smell of caramel tickles your nose as you near closer. Peering inside you see what had to be Bakugou's childhood bedroom, seemingly untouched. Bed made, All might and singed villains hang from the walls, some long forgotten laundry in a basket and a bookshelf filled with a variety books. 

His room was bigger than your current studio apartment and all you can do is sigh. And wonder. Trying not to feel jealous over the nice life he clearly had growing up while you were kept in a dark room to "strengthen your mind" for days at a time. Still it's not as if it were Bakugou's fault, he was just lucky. And you wouldn't wish your childhood on anyone. 

Not even Bakugou. 

Your record mentioned your thefts but never your much darker past. And how could they? It had been drilled into you how to clean up after yourself.

Habit forces your hand for something, anything as you snatch a small keychain of Allmight and shove it into your jeans pocket. 

"You lost?" Bakugou yells through the quiet home. 

"No, a woman takes her time!" You shout back slamming the door. Staring into your reflection as you wish for the night to end. 

It doesn't end as quickly as you'd like but it goes by at a decent pace. Introductions come easy and Mitsuki smiles brightly at you which feels like a good sign. Dinner goes by smoothly, the food delicious as you even help yourself to seconds. 

Surprisingly the Bakugous are easy to talk to, it felt as if you'd always know his parents. Laughing over shared stories and even listening intently to their work and fashion. 

"So what did you think?" Mitsuki asks as Katsuki goes to clear the table. You try to stand to help only for his broad hand to land on your shoulder, forcing you back into a seated position. You straighten your back. 

"Ah dinner was delicious. I didn't know Katsuki-kun could cook so well." You smile as her face begins to sour. Uh oh.  

"KATSUKI ARE YOU NOT FEEDING HER? HOW HAS SHE NOT HAD YOUR FOOD NOT ONCE? YOU JERK YOU BETTER NOT BE SOME ASSHOLE THAT MAKES THE WOMAN COOK!" 

"LISTEN YOU HA-!" He stops himself and glances at you causing you to quickly intervene. 

"Oh Bakugou-san…" 

"Mitsuki-san." She inturrpts, suddenly level headed as she looks to you. 

"Mitsuki-san, Katsuki and I have only been dating officially for a month. We haven't had the chance for a home cooked meal yet." You lie with a sweet worried smile that Mitsuki buys. 

"I see, so what is it that you like about my bullish son?"  

Nothing, is what you want to say, looking at him to buy you time as you think. Slowly the words come to you. You think of how he knew your coffee order, how angry he looked on your behalf when he thought the person who carved you up was someone you once loved. 

"Underneath all that brutish attitude is a really nice guy. He can be kind and caring. He is heroic despite his mouth." He looks as surprised as his mother when you speak before she smiles. Bakugou keeps his eyes trained on you as he returns from the kitchen with the cake and gift. 

"Here." Bakugou sets the small gift box in front of his mom, who tears into it immediately. She smiles looking down at the bracelet as she turns it to see the inscription inside. Her eyes water as Masaru smiles reading the words aloud. 

"Family first." He rubs Mitsuki's back as she quickly wipes away a stray tear. 

"I think it's time for the photo album." 

"NO!" 

"YES!" She slams the old book down, flanking your other side to look over the pages with you.  Awkwardly you offer a smile as Katsuki groans beside you. 

"Mooooom!"

"Hush ungrateful brat! It's my birthday!" Mitsuki says as if it's final, Katsuki grumbles in defeat. 

She pours over the pictures, pointing out things here and there, after a while you begin to smile. Relishing over the fact you're probably the only person who's seen their boss' embarrassing baby pictures. 

"I should blow these the fuck up!" Bakugou growls, reaching for the album. You grab onto his poppin hand to stop him. 

"No, you're so lucky you have these…" Fuck, you're about to make things super awkward, there will be a dreaded question and no matter how many times you answer it, even if it is a lie, it hurts. Feeling as though an icy hand cradles your heart as it beats, fingers becoming an uncomfortable vice. 

"Why? Did something happen to your photos?" The pity in Mitsuki's voice digs beneath your skin, you sigh. 

"They were lost to a fire." An easier lie to the actual truth. Honestly you weren't even sure if you had ever been photographed before. 

Maybe just your mug shots. 

Still you couldn't stomach the thought of telling Mitsuki that you didn't know whether your parents died tragically or if they left you and your sister to die in the streets. 

After a moment Mitsuki presses her hand to your back, a brief rub before she presses into your shoulder blade, as if you remind you she was there. 

"Well, you always have family here dear." She smiles softly, your heart flutters. The Bakugous, even if it was supposed to be pretend, felt like family to you.

"Thank you." You smile back as Mitsuki allows you to flip the page. Your smile forms into a smirk as you see a smaller version of your hot headed boss standing next to a boy with curly emerald hair. 

"You and Izuku used to be good friends huh?" You tease, "What happened?" 

Bakugou doesn't react as you expect him too, he is not raging and cursing instead his face is calm, open. 

"Pride got in the way." His words somber, "But Deku's over it." 

A small silence falls over the room from Katsuki's honesty, Mitsuki glances at her husband who gives a small nod. Still you stare at the ash blonde who starts to crowd you, something odd sitting on his face. 

"Are you?" The question falls from your plush lips. Bakugou grits his teeth

"Turn the fucking page." And you do, the next picture his graduating glass and you are elated, excited to see your newfound friends in their youth. 

"Eijoru-kun! Gods look at his hair. It was so short then! Look at how close you guys are!" 

The next hour is shared over cake and memories. It feels good to be "family" if only for the night. 

"It is getting late Mitsuki dear." Masaru says softly, pulling a sigh from his wife. She stands and everyone follows. She gives hugs out by the door, squeezing you especially tight. 

"Oh Katsuki! The two of you should have Christmas dinner here, we are having fried chicken!" Mitsuki exclaims, immediately Bakugou shuts it down giving you a look as if you gave her the idea  

"No! We havta work." He shrugs his shoulders, holding out his jacket for you to slip into. Slowly you slip your arms in as you watch disappointment wash over Mitsuki's features. 

Don't say it, don't say it don't say it. 

You ignore the voice in your head and say it anyway. 

"Actually, Eijirou forced us off Christmas remember? Since we've worked so many in a row." Bakugou bristles, obviously agitated as he roughly places the jacket on your shoulders, resting his hot hands there. 

"Come on we didn't have any plans right?" 

A part of you does it for the money, another part of you does it out of loneliness.

He glares at you, squeezing you so hard you're sure it'd be bruised. 

"Fine." He bites out while Mitsuki grabs at his ear. 

"Don't act as if we are a chore!" She taps her bracelet, "Family first!" 

"Family first." He growls and you're learning this is what they say instead of 'I love you'. He tries to guide you out to the car but his mother grabs his sleeve. 

"It'll be just a moment dear." She smiles at you, Bakugou goes into his pants pockets for the keys for you but you are already dangling them with a devilish smirk. His eyes harden as you turn to give him your back. Hand smoothly removing the old All Might keychain to attach it to his keys. A part of you will wonder if he will notice. 

Meanwhile Mitsuki gives Bakugou a deadly look before an even deadlier hug. 

"I really like her." She pulls away allowing Bakugou to step outside, "Don't fuck this up." 

[wormstacheangel]

Smiles with a Christmas Kiss

Merry Christmas @professorerudite 

Summary: Dean and Cas are left behind in the bunker on Christmas Eve. A regular movie day is planned but it slowly becomes a lot more.

It’s Christmas Eve and the bunker was quiet. It was just him and his best friend in this big place, their footsteps echoed the halls like no other time before. When it was just him and Sam the place always felt okay. It was home and it was nice but with Cas - finally human and finally staying - the place felt warm. It was a damn home again. 

Jack followed Sam and Eileen on a holiday trip to Ireland. Of course, Dean had to refuse. Thinking of the long plane ride alone was making him feel sick. Though he insisted Cas should tag along with them - go see the world and all that jazz - he didn’t budge. Insisting he just wants to stay in the bunker. 

Dean didn’t argue. It was nice not to be alone during the holiday season but at the same time, he hoped Cas didn’t stay behind just for him. Dean would have done what he always did for Christmas. Go to a bar full of lonely people and find someone, or someone’s, to have some fun holiday party on a motel bed. 

Well, that’s what he would like to think he would have done, heck maybe a long time ago he would have done just that, but now it’s different. He hasn’t gone to a bar looking to hook up with anyone in years and he wasn’t going to start now. After throwing excuse after excuse at himself about why his libido just went into a downward spiral, fighting God and all that shit really wasn’t a good excuse for him apparently, it all came down to one angel. Well, person now. 

“Good morning, Dean.” Cas walked into the kitchen, dragging his bunny slippers across the cold floor and towards the coffee machine. 

Dean watched as Cas poured himself a big mug full and then sat across from him on the kitchen table to join him. Dean already had the sugar and creamer on the table, prepared for Cas who always gets up a few minutes after him. 

As soon as he took a sip he smiled into his mug and Dean rested his chin on the palm of his hand as he watched. Enjoying the way Cas’s eyes crinkle at the side when he smiled with his eyes closed. He even shivered just a little as the hot drink ran down his body, holding the hot mug in between both his hands and close to his face. 

“Morning, Sunshine.” Dean finally tells him as Cas placed his mug down on the table to smile back at him. 

He could live like this for the rest of his life. As much as Dean wanted more, he was okay with this. Having Cas like this. Seeing him like this. Shaggy hair that curls up at the tips and stubble that was already too long but must feel so good against Dean’s skin. Cas’s baggy sweatpants that fall too low on his hips and Dean’s old band tees that were exclusively worn for sleep cling to his muscled frame. 

Cas was just art that he could enjoy looking at but not touch. At least not the way he dreams to touch.

A happy sigh escapes Cas’s lips as he rolls his shoulders back and reaches for the untouched toast on Dean’s plate. “Merry Christmas Eve by the way.” He took a bite of the toast with butter and then made a face before he reached for the jam. Sweet tooth. He took another bite before he started talking with his mouth full. “I know you don’t celebrate but I still hope we can watch that movie you wanted to show me.”

Dean hummed in response as he sat up straighter, reaching for his coffee to have his hands do something. “We can do that.”

“Which reminds me we also need to go grocery shopping. We’re running low on supplies.”

“Cookies?”

“Exactly.” Cas winked at him.

Dean laughed and it always felt like he was floating when it was Cas who made him laugh. Yeah, he can live like this. If he can have these mornings everyday then he can live with Cas as his friend.

Grocery shopping took a while even though the place was mostly empty. Dean had a list and Cas kept ignoring it to add random junk he wanted to taste. Some of the stuff Dean hasn’t even tasted himself, “Then we can experience it together.” Was all Cas said and Dean couldn’t argue with him on that.

“What do people do on Christmas Eve?” Cas asked when they walked back to the car to load the groceries. “That child looked at us with pity when we told him we didn’t have any plans for today.”

“Dude, how am I supposed to know?”

“You know more than me.”

“The last real Christmas I had - I was three, Cas.” Dean opened the trunk of the Impala to start stuffing the bags. “Plus, I’m pretty sure that I imagine all those happy memories I had with my Mom and Dad.”

“I’m sure some were real, Dean.” Cas placed the last of the bags in the trunk as he looked at him with a small smile. Pity smile. “You’re Mother loved you so I’m sure she would have done her best to give you-”

“Cas,” Dean sighed as he closed the trunk with a loud thud. “I just want to watch some movies and sit on the couch with you and a tray full of nachos. I don’t want to psychoanalyze my childhood.”

“Ah.” Cas nodded, another smile. This one was softer and warmer. A smile that felt reserved for just Dean. Cas’s cheeks were even rosy from the cold wind piercing through their many layers. “Understood. I’ll take the cart back and you start the car then.”

Dean watched Cas walk away, scratching the back of his head when he saw him walk back into the grocery store. He was going to go after him but decided to do what he was told and just start the car. Maybe they needed a quick getaway.

Cas returned a few moments later with nothing in his hands.

“Dude, what the hell?”

Cas just shrugged and put his hands up to the heater. “Thank you for waiting for me.”

That was the only response he knew he was going to get from his angel - oh wow! Not his. Not even a damn angel anymore. 

Dean drove them home while Cas turned on the radio. Tapping his fingers on his knee to the beat of the music. Dean wondered how Cas would react if he just reached over and twined their hands together but instead he gripped the steering wheel tighter. 

It was already late when Dean called Cas over to watch the movie. He was going to go with Die Hard, his childhood Christmas movie he watched with Dad, but Dean had a feeling that Cas wanted a movie where it was actually about Christmas. So he picked his other childhood Christmas movie. A Christmas Story.

Cas walked in, his blanket already in tow, and took a seat on one end of the couch. Dean sat on the other with the nachos tray right in between them. Cas sat with his legs crossed and tucked into a corner, almost facing Dean, while he reached into the food before the movie even began to play.

“So you watched this as a kid?” Cas said, mouth full and head tilted as Dean settled on his side of the couch. 

“Yup.” Was all Dean said as he handed Cas a beer and pressed play.

It was only the first few minutes when Ralph walked in with a full cowboy getup that Cas laughed and when he met Dean’s curious eyes, enjoying every second of that rare laugh. Cas pointed at Ralph and then him. “Dean that’s you.” He laughed harder as soon as the words left his mouth and Dean hit him with a pillow. 

The nachos were moved to the table in front of them, where Dean had his feet propped up.

Cas continued to make little comments as the movie went on.

“Ah, reminds me of that whoopee cushion prank you did on me.” Cas noted as he took a sip of beer. 

“All of that for a damn tongue on a pole?” Cas sounded so annoyed that Dean spits out his beer laughing.

They somehow moved closer on the couch with every little comment Cas made. From the mention of yellow eyes. To ask what was put in Ralph’s mouth after he said fudge. (“Dude he said fuck.” “So? You say it all the time.” “I’m a grown man.” “Oh. Children can’t say it?”)

As soon as Ralph said son of a bitch Cas was somehow already shoulder to shoulder with Dean. He laughed, his shoulders shaking, before turning to look at Dean with that big smile again. Dean never thought anybody could look as beautiful as Cas did when he grinned at him like that.

“Dean, I told you that’s you.” He smiled and Dean didn’t have it in him to argue, even as a joke. Instead, he nodded, smiling back at Cas, while his grinch heart grew three sizes. 

This was supposed to be a safe nonromantic movie but Dean hasn’t watched it in a while. He forgot the ending when the parents sat in the dark, just like they were in now, and enjoyed the snow falling. With only the Christmas lights shining. 

A few years ago he wouldn’t have thought it was romantic - there was no kissing or grunting in this scene what so ever- but the soft touches is what he craves now. He was already so close to Cas as it is. Feeling the warmth radiate off his best friend while his blanket was now over both their laps, he doesn’t even remember when that happened. 

He was already so close. Dean could turn his head and his nose could be buried in Cas’s hair, the smell of nature still follows Cas around, and he could hold him. Hold him like he has always wanted to hold Cas, with no immediate danger or death hanging over them. He just wanted to hold Cas because he wanted to hold him. No reason.

Cas leaned into him a little more, untucking his feet from underneath him so he could lay them flat on the ground. Dean noticed every fidget of Cas’s fingers and he wondered if Cas was uncomfortable with the closeness but then in a sudden move Cas had an arm around Dean’s shoulders. Cas cleared his throat as he squeezed Dean’s shoulder closer to him - trying to act like this was a normal thing for them- while Dean stared at him with wide eyes. 

Dean couldn’t find the words. He wanted to say some dumb joke or push Cas off but he stopped himself. Instead, he relaxed under the touch and leaned into it. 

“Oh, um, the movie ended.” Cas cleared his throat while he started to pull his hand away.

“I’ll, um, I’ll just - let me pick another one.” Dean reached for the remote and picked a random movie in the Christmas category and pressed play. Then he leaned back into the couch again and Cas’s arm was around him again. 

Dean doesn’t remember how many movies they watched that night or how he ended up falling asleep on a couch too small to hold two grown men. But he didn’t care because now he had Cas’s fingers making small circles on his back and the touch was so gentle.

“Merry Christmas, Dean.” Cas must have known he woke up. 

So Dean folded his arms over Cas’s chest and looked down at him. He could feel the dumb smile on his mouth. “Merry Christmas, Cas.”

“I know it’s customary to give gifts now.” Cas started reaching for something on the floor while Dean opened his mouth to argue but Cas looked at him with those just-shut-up-Dean raised eyebrows so he listened. “It’s something small I got at the grocery store so I’m sorry it’s not something you may want but I believe you deserve a Christmas gift, Dean.”

They both sat up when Cas pulled out a small shiny gift bag with a Christmas tree right out front. Dean wondered when Cas even had time to get this or sneak it in as he sat crisscross back on the couch while Cas copied him. Handing over the present with a wry smile.

“I didn’t even get you anything, Cas.” Dean started saying, hesitant to get the present. 

Cas shrugged. “You can make it up to me later. Now take it.”

Dean took it and it didn’t even have tissue paper to hide what was inside. Dean laughed as he pulled out a few Reese’s shaped like a Christmas tree, some DVD of a movie he hasn’t even heard of so it must be new, and a gift card for Dominos pizza.

“These are great, Cas.” Dean laughed looking down at his gifts. “Looks like you already planned our next date night.”

“I did?” Cas looked down at his presents before looking back at Dean with wide eyes. “Date night?”

“I mean, only if you want to-”

“I want to!” Cas quickly leaned into Dean’s space again and he probably didn’t mean to lean in so close but Dean was also not thinking as he met him halfway to press their lips together. It was just a quick kiss before they pulled apart. 

Dean didn’t say anything as they sat back on their seats. Staring at anything but each other. 

Cas cleared his throat. “Was that my Christmas gift?”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, I’m cheap.”

“Can I have another gift then?” Cas asked, leaning his head down so he could catch Dean’s downward gaze. He was blushing -fuck he was blushing- as he smiled at him again and Dean was taken back to that morning. Where he thought that he could live with just having that smile in his life but now he knows how that smile felt against his own.

Dean only nodded once before Cas fell back into him. Their lips smashing together into a grinning kiss, teeth smacking together, as Dean wrapped his arms around Cas’s waist to pull him closer. Then he pulled away just enough to kiss Cas again, slowly as he took everything in. Cas’s weight on his lap. Cas’s fingers on his face while he held the back of his neck. The soft noises Cas kept making at the back of his throat as they moved against each other that was making Dean crazy. 

He can have this. Can have Cas and it was a damn Christmas miracle that Cas was dumb enough to want Dean the same way. And fuck his stubble did feel great against his skin.

“Merry Christmas, Cas.” Dean said when they pulled apart to breathe, their foreheads touching. 

Cas grinned, a small laugh shook his body and Dean felt every shake that was in his arms. “Merry Christmas, Dean.”

Thanks @destielsecretsanta2020 for this fun project! 

[fandom-puff]

Malfoy!Reader dating Fred Weasley

Requested by: anon

AN: I put the reader as a slytherin bc... malfoys... and at age eleven she wanted to be in the same house as her brother, her dad etc. Also, reader is draco’s twin so their relationship didn’t start when she was too young. Also, this is a bit of an AU, so Fred doesn’t die lol

Gif creds to owner

Warnings: swearing, Lucius and Draco being quite prejudiced, references to sex but no actual getting jiggy with it

You had always thought Fred snd george were funny, and had been rather sad when they left school in your fifth year

Of course, you didn’t let on to Draco, as he would certainly tell mother (he was rather a mummy’s boy, but you couldn’t point that out to him, as he would just tell you that you’re a daddy’s girl)

You spent your summer daydreaming, sitting in the gardens in the manor or gazing out of your window

Your mother was beginning to talk about arranging a marriage for you (she had been in one, as had Aunt Bella, as well as most traditional pure bloods), but you brushed off every suitor she suggested, with increasingly ridiculous excuses

“Oh, honestly, YN, if you carry on like this, mother and father will have to marry you off to blood traitors like the Weasleys,” Draco teased, and you tensed up slightly

“Oh shut it, Draco, at least theyre one of the only pure blooded families that don’t fuck their cousins and force their daughters into arranged marriages,” you huffed, storming off to your bedroom

Several days later, your mother came to your room and asked if you were coming to diagon Alley with her and Draco

You agreed, and while Draco and narcissa were fussing over robes in madam malkin’s shop, you slipped away to check out the brand new Weasley shop

It was wonderful, and you quickly got distracted by all the colours and sounds and displays

That was until a second year bolted past you and caused you to stumble up some steps, but a strong hand grabbed your arm, stopping your fall

“Oi! Watch it- nearly broke this lovely girl’s neck!” He shouted, before leaning down to you. “You alright? Oh. Well if it isn’t Miss Malfoy,” he grinned, without malice.

“Yeah... Draco’s getting his robes fitted and I couldn’t be arsed listening to his whining. I... I really love the shop,” you said bashfully. “Be careful though, Filch will be banning postal orders to the school,” you grinned, and you settled into easy conversation as Fred took you on a tour of the shop

Ron, Harry, hermione and George watched with dropped jaws

Eventually, you had to leave, to stop your mother and brother from getting suspicious

On the train to hogwarts, you sat with Draco and Blaise and Pansy (And you had to stop yourself from gagging at pansy’s simpering)

Draco made a comment on the weasleys finally having a bit of gold yet still wearing their ‘tat’

“Enough, Draco. Money doesn’t define people’s worth” you snapped

“Ugh, don’t tell me you fancy one of them, YN,”

“Ha! Which one, they breed like rabbits!” Palsy chimed in.

“I’ve had enough of this,” you said, and went to go and sit elsewhere

The argument was forgotten w little while later, and a few weeks into term, a small barn owl landed in front of you, dropping a letter, addressed to ‘the loveliest Malfoy’

You hurried off to read the letter, which was an invite from Fred to the three broomsticks on the next hogsmeade weekend and the rest, as they say was history.

Your relationship with Fred remained a secret for several months up until the Christmas holidays, when you returned from Fred’s with a rather impressive love bite just beneath your ear that you hadn’t noticed before you left

Your mother knew something was off instantly- you looked a little more... serene than usual, your hair (which you had left the house in a neat braid) was loose and slightly tousled

Her suspicions were confirmed when at dinner, you tucked your hair behind your ear, and Draco’s fork clattered to the floor.

“Bloody hell, YN!” He said, smirking. “Thought you said you went shopping with Astoria and Pansy!”

You frowned, but then quickly realised, trying to sweep your blonde hair back over the hickey, but your father had stood up from the head of the table and marched over to you, grabbing your chin and tilting your head to the side.

“Who did this, YN?” He asked, seething at the idea of someone taking advantage of his little girl. “Tell me, YN,”

You gulped and looked away, your father sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We will discuss it after dinner in my study,”

Draco smirked deviously, eating quicker so he could get in on the action

“Alone,” Lucius said pointedly.

After dinner, your mother healed the bruise with magic and walked you to Lucius’s study.

The three of you say together in silence for a moment, before your father spoke.

“Was it Zabini?” You shook your head

“Crabbe? Goyle? I swear, I will tear them limb from-“

Narcissa placed a hand on his knee soothingly, turning to you. “Who was it, darling?”

“Fred Weasley,” you whispered, hanging your head. “I-I’m sorry, father. We’ve been seeing eachother for months, writing and... well, I went to see him today. I’m sorry I lied about going shopping, but I knew you’d never let me leave the house if you knew...”

Lucius sighed slightly and narcissa frowned between her husband and her daughter, nodding slowly.

“Right,” Lucius said. “YN. Come. I need to have a word with Arthur Weasley,”

You looked at your mother desperately. “Don’t worry darling,” she murmured, eyes twinkling, and you nodded, following your father to the apparition point

***

“Bloody hell... is that... is that malfoy?”

Ron and Harry ran to the sitting room, where Arthur was reading.

“Dad... you’ll never guess... Lucius malfoy’s coming up the path!”

Arthur sighed and sent the boys upstairs, opening the door

“Lucius,” he greeted, tone a little tense.

Your father’s lips curled into a slight smirk as he gestured to you.

“My daughter revealed something rather surprising to me today, Arthur,” he said and you worried your lip. “She told me that she had been seeing one of your sons behind my back,”

Arthur stared at you, eyes narrowing slightly. You looked very nervous.

“I... didn’t know Ron was seeing anybody,” he said hesitantly

Lucius was about to speak again, but your cut him off. “No... not Ron, Mr Weasley, sir. Er... I’ve been seeing Fred,”

“I think you’d best come in, both of you. Molly!”

Ten minutes later you were settled at the scrubbed kitchen table, sipping tea in an uncomfortable silence as Lucius and Arthur stared at eachother challengingly.

You looked over at Mrs weasley apologetically and she smiled kindly, reaching over to squeeze your hand to reassure you

“Honestly, two grown men trying to stare eachother down like fourth years!” She huffed, flinging a handful of floo powder into the fire, leaning down to speak into it. “Fred Weasley, you had better come through this fireplace in the next ten seconds!” She called

Pretty soon Fred was stumbling through, grinning

His eyes softened when he saw you and widened when he saw your father

“Er... have a... nice Christmas, Mr Malfoy?” He asked awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as you mentally facepalmed.

Lucius stood up and drew his wand

You gasped, grabbing his arm. “Dad no!” You cried, looking at him pleadingly as he marched over to Fred, backing him into the wall with his wand at his throat. Arthur’s wand was also drawn while Molly shook her head

“If you ever hurt my daughter,” your father said in a low, silky voice. “If you break her heart, cause her harm or force her to do anything, I will kill you, Weasley. If I hear that you have used, abused or manipulated my little girl, I will personally see to it that you are never seen or heard from again. Do you understand?”

Fred nodded, eyes wide

Lucius quickly moved away, putting his wand back into its holder. “Well,” he said. “Now that that nasty business is taken care of,” he offered his hand to Arthur, who (after a hard glare from Mrs weasley) shook it.

Molly then turned to Fred herself and said “if I hear that you hurt YN in any way, it won’t just be Mr Malfoy you’ll have to deal with, Fred Weasley,” she said menacingly, wagging her finger at him.

Fred nodded.

As your parents went outside to discuss a sort of truce, you went to Fred, wrapping your arms around his middle, nuzzling into his chest.

From outside, your parents saw your loving embrace, your gentle kiss, the way Fred cupped your cheek and pushed your hair out of your face so he could kiss your forehead gently, molly sighed happily. “He’ll look after her,” she murmured

Both fathers spoke at once

“He’d better.”

Tag List: @a-hopeless-fan @lotsoffandomrecs @justanotherwildstar @kashishwrites @rai-strangebr @zodiyack @haphazardhufflepuff @dumbfuckinslytherin @severuslovebot @darkthought15 @strawberriesonsummer

[rogue-durin-16]

THINGS NEVER GO AS PLANNED (Part IV/VII)

"wrong name"

Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/n— well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst-fluff

Tags:

Suggested by: @crispykittywitch

Things never go as planned: @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @beautyschoo1dropout @s1ut4georgeweasley @sunshineandshadowss @missmulti @accioweaslcy

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa

Warnings: language, mentions of Fred x Reader, brief mention of death ig (?) Feels

A/N: here's a Christmas fic that has no right to be this angsty lmao, enjoy nonetheless <3

Prologue: the aftermath

Part I: sleepless nights

Part II: candy floss

Part III: shock therapy

Part V: the perfect excuse

Part VI: the downfall

Part VII: apart

Epilogue: I still love you

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

We apparated in the Weasley front yard together at dusk at the same time as Percy did; we greeted him with a hug and entered their old home, only to be met with more hugs.

I had only stayed at the Burrow once, arriving the night we escorted Harry, and leaving shortly after the tragic and abrupt ending of Bill and Fleur's wedding.

I had attended to the wedding as Fred's date. Even if we agreed that there was nothing serious between us, we cared deeply for one another, and I was important enough for him that he asked me to present ourselves together in front of his family.

How odd it was that the second time I was staying at the Burrow, it was because I had been asked to attend this Christmas gathering by none other than George —as friends, of course—; so odd that it made me anxious, but Arthur and Molly were way too welcoming for that anxiety to carry on longer than a minute after I stepped into their home.

"Y/n, dear!" Molly held me back while George went to greet his siblings, who had arrived earlier than us. "I'm so glad you could make it!"

"She didn't want to come." George snitched, coming back to us after hugging his father. "Said she felt like she was trespassing."

"George!" My cheeks burned when he exposed me.

"Oh, darling," Molly pulled me into the house to join the rest. "You're always welcomed here, don't be silly!"

Molly had liked me since day one, even before Fred and I became a thing. I was the one to receive her when the Weasley matriarch first visited the shop, and we immediately got along. Fred had explained to me that it was because I reminded his mother of her younger self.

"You're a snitch." I whispered into George's ear as we both walked behind Molly in the kitchen direction, his only response was to stick out his tongue, which made us both chuckle.

Molly looked over her shoulder and I caught in her eyes the same emotion I saw in Ginny's the first time she came to visit the shop after the reopening.

A profound emotion rooted in hope; a bittersweet feeling coming from the thought that, even though Fred was gone, George seemed to be coming back to us.

I felt it too, whenever he smiled. It was lovely to see him actually happy; I wished I could keep him like that forever, even in the nights, when everything would come down on his shoulders, tearing apart every spark of joy might have had in the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

We weren't finished with food yet when Arthur wiped his mouth with the napkin and, clapping his hands once, exclaimed, "Alright, time for presents!" Teddy, who rested on Bill's lap, squealed, his hair turning pink; that baby was smart. "I'll get them, dear." He stopped his wife from standing up and went to get them himself.

He distributed the gifts, and I was surprised when he handed me one. "Oh! You didn't have to—"

"Nonsense!" Arthur stopped me, resuming his task with a warm smile. Everyone was happy in that moment, and I knew George's mood had a big part on that.

He unwrapped his, which turned out to be a purple and orange scarf and matching mittens. He was putting on the mittens when I tossed the wrap of my present, uncovering a cardigan formed by several tones of my favorite color.

"Put it on!" George requested excited. unbeknownst to me, it had been him who told Molly my favorite color. "Aw you look fantastic." He observed, poorly wrapping his scarf around his neck.

"Of course I do." I agreed, shifting on my chair to face him, my hands traveling to his scarf to relocate it properly.

Though we didn't notice, it wasn't the first time that more than one pair of eyes observed us that night, and it wouldn't be the last.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bill and Fleur had offered to take care of Teddy since they were leaving to Shell Cottage, so Harry and Ginny could spend the night at the Burrow without the worry of the baby.

Percy was terribly tired, so he withdrew from the living room to go to sleep.

Thank goodness he did; Percy was probably the second most affected by Fred death, and after that nice evening, he wouldn't have wanted to witness what was about to happen.

Ron, Hermione and I had colonized the settee, while Ginny and George were on their feet near the table, chatting about some nonsense; Molly was cleaning the dishes. Harry had offered to help her, but she refused, so the boy decided to talk with Arthur instead.

Molly pointed with her index finger at the remaining glasses laid on the table and called for George.

The thing is, she didn't really call for George.

"Fred, darling, hand me those."

The room fell silent.

It took a moment for her to realise, but an instant later, Molly was covering her mouth with her hand, her glassy stare fixed on the wrong named twin.

My eyes frantically travelled to every single person in the room, who had gone livid. We all seemed to be holding our breaths, waiting for some kind of explosive reaction.

Then my attention was drawn to George, whose, until that instant amused gaze, had turned blank and expressionless.

"Darling—" Molly's voice shattered with a single word. As Arthur went to console his wife, Ginny led her older brother aside and whispered things only he could hear, attempting to sooth him. "It slipped..." Molly cried.

I stayed sat on the couch with Hermione and Ron, the three of us frozen; I felt like I was an intruder witnessing a very intimate family moment.

"George don't—" we heard Ginny raising her voice before her brother disapparated. "Bloody hell!" She spun around and walked to me. "Y/n, speak to him, he'll listen to you." She practically begged, nodding her head at the window, prompting me to look at George standing alone at the edge of the cornfield, already making his way in.

"I-I..." I didn't need to look around in order to acknowledge all the eyes laid on me. "O-okay." I blinked away my own tears and rushed to the door, only to be stopped by Molly's shaky hand.

"Please- tell him I'm sorry."

"I don't think he'll blame you." I reassured the wrecked mother, offering her a comforting smile before making my way out and jogging into the cornfield myself.

"George?" When I didn't obtain an answer, it dawned on me how dumb it had been to dive into that area without knowing where to go. "George?"

I yelped when something tugged on my sleeve, making my body pivot on my heel. "You know how easy is to get lost in here?" The ginger questioned in a raspy tone, the hand that had been on my sleeve going down to mine, which invited him into my hold.

"She didn't mean— I reckon she just... Saw him in you for a second."

"I know." Though his eyes did look a bit red, he was calm.

"You alright?" I inquired, taking my hand to his cheek, on which he leaned.

"I just..." Sigh. His right hand travelled up to his face to hold mine in it before pulling away. "I need a moment alone."

I nodded. "Don't take too long or you'll catch a cold." He hummed affirmatively, and I half-heartedly left the cornfield and headed to the Burrow.

I excused George, assuring them he would be okay and, though the previous light-hearted environment didn't return, the tension in the air dissipated a bit.

A few minutes later, George came in; his mother welcomed with open arms and he returned the hug, having a small conversation against Molly's shoulder before making a beeline to me, sitting by my side.

I felt my cheeks flushing as he leaned on me, putting his head on my shoulder; suddenly self-conscious at the closeness between us. Somehow it was different being that close the privacy of our flat, than outside of it. Though it felt somehow inappropriate, when his long fingers intertwined with mines, I indulged him, trying hard not to meet neither Hermione's nor Ginny's eyes —they had been staring so much that I had noticed them an hour ago.

I was completely unaware of Molly's gaze laid on us too.

George, whose eyes had been closed, sit up straighter to whisper in my ear, "Can we go back to the flat?" My eyes met his and I realised we were even closer than I had thought in first place.

"I thought we were staying the night?" I murmured, trying in vain to keep his family out of the conversation they were pretending not to hear.

He leaned a bit closer only for me to hear his words. "I don't think I can sleep in my room."

"Do it for your mum." I squeezed his hand and he sighed. "I'm gonna stay in that room with you." Another sigh, but this one was of defeat, letting me know that I had talked some sense into him.

HERMIONE'S P. O. V.

At the beginning of the evening, when George and Y/n had first stepped into the Burrow, Ginny had come to me, urging me to observe them closely.

At first I didn't know why she would say that, but after the wrong name slipped out of Molly's lips, I started to get a hold of the matter, but it seemed so surreal— it just couldn't be.

Though the way Y/n's cheeks lighted up when George took a seat between us did remind me of the way I used to react when Ron got a tad too close to me in our sixth year.

After a while Y/n seemed to forget about our presence and eased besides George, making their bodies get closer.

When we decided to call it a day and the ones left in the living room started to retreat to their rooms for the night, Y/n got up without letting go of George's hold at any moment and, thanking Molly for her hospitality, they made their way upstairs.

Had my eyes not been trained on them, I would have missed the way George's hands went to Y/n's waist as his chin fell on her shoulder.

I left the sofa and walked to Ginny before she and Harry could slither to their dorm. "Are they...?"

"Not sure." Ginny replied with knitted brows. "What'd you think?"

"I... Don't know." I confessed.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

We entered the dark room, illuminated only by the light provided by the night sky and started to discard our clothes in silence without looking at each other.

I was the first one to finish, making my way to my old bed and catching a glimpse of Y/n's silouhette while she threw a tee on.

I was utterly, hopelessly in love with her.

I had known I loved her for quite a while, but the feeling that had made my heart swell and my stomach flutter when she got into the cornfield without giving it a second thought in order to find me, that was something else.

I had also felt it when she had found me lifeless in Fred's room a couple of months ago; that feeling had been the reason why I found the strength in me to come back to life.

I was young, but I just knew what I felt went further from only love.

"What's on your mind?" She was already slipping under the covers by my side, her arms wrapping around me and bringing my back closer to her chest.

You, I wanted to say. "Not much."

"Liar." She tugged on my shirt and I turned on my other side so we would be facing each other. "C'mon, it's just me."

Words blurted out of my mouth, escaping my control. "Do you see him when you look at me?"

And I wasn't making anything up; It was, in fact, on my mind. It had appeared during the walk through the cornfield and it hadn't left, but Y/n's scent, touch and words had backed that thought to a corner of my mind.

She wondered, tucking one of my locks away from my forehead. "Sometimes, but not like you think." She must have sensed my inquiry because she explained further. "There are small gestures, jokes— things like that in you, that remind me of him." Her eyes were roaming all over my face, her hands bringing mines to her heart. "When you're happy, like tonight— I can't quite explain it but... it sorta seems like he's still here. So yeah, you could say I see a little bit of Fred when I look at you." Her eyes finally met mines. "It's not a bad thing— you love him so much that we can still see him through you."

"Loved." I corrected her, my thumb drawing circles on the back of her palm. "He's dead." A tear rolled down my cheek, but Y/n caught it with her fingertips before it could reach the pillow.

"Love never dies, Georgie." Her replied seem to carry more significance that someone would see at first sight, but I was too tired to discern it.

I couldn't tell if she had scooted closer, or if I had unconsciously leaned on, but the tips of our noses were nearly touching.

Initially, she didn't attempt to put more distance between us, and I couldn't help but let my hopes get high. I waited for a sign, something that would let me know I could close the gap between our lips —oh, how I craved to feel her lips—, but the sign didn't come and we stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity before she casted down her eyes, immediately breaking the spell.

"Goodnight, Y/n." I whispered, turning my back to her.

"Goodnight, George." She mumbled back, coming closer to cuddle me.

[angelkurenai]

Cheesy fanfics - Dean Winchester x Reader

Title: Cheesy fanfics

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word count: 3,520

Warnings: Spoilers for 15x20 I guess

Prompt: Hey! Thought I'd help your creativity out a little bit! How about "I almost asked you out in Winter Ball back in highschool but I chickened out and now it's Christmas and we're both alone and single so maybe this is a second chance?" Very Hallmark Movie esque, but I have faith in your creativity and am sure you're gonna kill it (if you choose to do it of course!). Hope it helps!

“You have to be kidding me.” you gasped, pressing a hand over your mouth as your eyes widened “Dean? Is that really you?”

“Depends, do I still look like the guy you remember? Or am I the old ass idiot I saw in the mirror this morning?” he joked, almost giving himself a pat on the shoulder for how playful he sounded and how he didn't trip over his words.

He had tripped over the cereal the moment he saw you, already, anyway. He was glad you had not noticed him at that moment because with his luck, he would have made an even worse fool of himself and ended up on the floor faster than could be humanly possible. But, in his defense, they weren't even supposed to be there and the moment he saw you, looking so damn beautiful as if not a single day had passed, he had been floored in any way that mattered other than literally.

“Oh shut up and come here, you asshole.” you scoffed, pretending to give him a glare but the smile that was on your lips was too bright for his mind to register anything else in the first place. It was all he could think about, all his treacherous heart could think of as it danced around like crazy in his chest.

“Ah hell, it's been so long.” he chuckled as well, letting his arms wrap around your form, his entire body melting on the spot as you squeezed him close to you “Too long.” he whispered, mostly to himself as he gave a squeeze in return, your body fitting perfectly with his the way it always did “I understand now though.”

He finally pulled away, though he let his arms rest on you for a few more seconds; just like he had let the hug last a bit longer than needed. It was self-indulgent, he knew it, but if he let himself memorize the way your body fit in his arms after all this time, then nobody could blame him.

“You understand?” you tilted your head to the side, and he almost felt like the air was knocked out of his lungs in that very moment. To look at you from this up close again, still in his arms, and to realize all over again just how easy it had been for him to fall for you in high school, it was inevitable that you could steal his breath away in a matter of seconds.

He cleared his throat “You didn't expect to see me all old and wrinkly. You expected to see the ghost of me, coming by to say Merry Christmas.”

“Well, you're not exactly wrong on that. Although, I didn't expect and certainly far from hoped it would be your ghost I saw this Christmas. Maybe some unlucky folk that died years ago.” you said with a soft shrug, voice low but tone as casual as talking about the weather. Fact which had not changed over the years and which brought a pleasant kind of warmth through Dean's chest, making him chuckle deeply.

“Well, thank you for your thoughtfulness. I've gotten close to that once or twice, can't deny it, but-” he noticed you stiffening up in his arms “All is good. In fact, it's better than it's ever been. You'll see. I'll get to tell you about it hopefully, one day.”

“Hopefully soon.” you said softly, nodding your head as you finally took a step backwards to put some distance between you because even though you'd have loved to stay like that forever, Dean had always been a a friend to you – a good one, yes, but one that had no idea about your feelings for him – and also because you were currently standing in the middle of the aisle as it was “Before you disappear without a single word for the next couple years or so, I suppose.”

“Yeah I uh- Well, you've got a point there. I'm-” he stopped himself, swallowing thickly over the lump in his throat “I'm really sorry about that. I- I wanted to- You have no idea how much I wanted to contact you but shit just kept getting crazier and I... I couldn't drag you into it.”

“What?” you whispered “No, no Dean, I didn't mean- That's not why I said it. I'm not mad nor do I blame you for it. No more so than I could blame life, both yours and mine. I mean, you could have always vanished without a single warning.”

“I wouldn't do that. I would never do that to you. You're too-” he stopped himself, clearing his throat “You've always been too important to me.” he confessed softly “I should just assume that I am somewhat important to you too, right? Given that I'm not a ghost by your own hand right now.”

“Hmm let's give it some time, shall we? Wait till about the end of the day to see how it turns out.” you said with a smirk, and a chuckle following soon “That is... if you will be around for that long?”

“Oh I actually plan to be around here for a lot longer than that. I mean-” he tried to hide his own giddiness when he saw the way your eyes widened and sparkled with happiness “It's Christmas, isn't it? People are celebrating and spending time with their loved ones and eating too much and watching sappy movies and I was never particularly one for the latter but it doesn't sound so bad to me.”

“You mean you're... on vacation? No ghost or vamp's got you here?” you frowned deeply.

“No, I uh I've actually been... trying to get a bit away from that. I am on vacation now, yes, but besides that I... Well, I don't do that anymore.” he said with a small shrug, not sure why he felt almost self-conscious about it “Not- Not hunting. I mean, yes, hunting. But-�� he cleared his throat, taking great notice of the surprise if not shocked look you gave him “It's not like I am out. I'm more... slowly getting out of it. Taking fewer cases, looking for an actual job, you know that kind of stuff. There are fewer cases in general anyway.”

“And going on vacation, apparently.” you noted with a small smile, voice almost breathless in disbelief, and he nodded his head.

“And got a dog.” he pointed out with a grin, loving to see your eyes widen before a a wide smile spread on your lips. Gosh how he loved that smile. Always had and always would.

“Wow. Dean, that's really- wow.” you confessed, blowing out a soft breath “To tell you the truth, that was really the last thing I expected to hear. But certainly the best one too.”

“Thank you.” he smiled, and boy had he missed the way you could make his heart beat inside his chest “It's actually been so long, so much had happened since we last spoke.”

“Yeah no kidding.” you laughed “This- wow. That's incredible news, Dean. So...” you looked down shyly for a second, as if unsure “What really made you make the choice at last? The Dean I remembered didn't even see this as a chance. To get out of the life, it seemed like an impossible dream back then. Any... particular reason why now?”

“You could say that.” he nodded his head, struggling to hold back a grin when he saw the nervousness on your features, the eagerness and doubt to hear what he had to say. And it wasn't because he loved torturing you but because there was always a small part of him that held onto hope, that after all these years had not let go of you and his feelings for you, and that small- alright, great part of him, wanted to know if you were interested in him. Just like he had hoped and waited back then, trying to understand if you really had feelings for him. He had been so hesitant, unsure if he should really try his luck or if he was going to ruin the best thing he'd gotten in his whole life. In the end, he had chickened out and lost his only chance.

Or maybe so he thought. Because looking at you look at him in that way made him believe, hope even, that maybe there really were second chances in life. All he had to do was figure it out.

“Not- not that there is a person in my life that made me leave all that behind, no.” he chuckled “I'm still as single as you remember. That much hasn't changed.” he said with a half smile, feeling his heart flutter in his chest when he saw relief flood your features and your shoulders relax “It's just that, well-” he shrugged “Fighting against the devil, meeting his son and most recently beating god, well, that can change someone.”

“God as in...?” you blinked in surprise and he shrugged once more.

“Ah yeah, the big G. It was no big deal, but it had to be done, you know? He was a dick. Now somebody else is running heaven. The devil's son as I told you, he's family though so that's great. But that's a long story, I'll probably tell you another time.” he brushed it off “So yeah, as you see, things did change. And Sam and I are more free now, that's why we decided to really do what we like, honestly.”

“Yeah that really is a lo-”

“Oh and I killed Hitler, so you're welcome for that, by the way.”

“...Thank you?” you blinked, tilting your head to the side in confusion “I- Honestly, Dean, I was gonna ask if you mean it or not but knowing you? I'm fairly sure you're not joking here. And just because I wouldn't like to freak out in the middle of the market and look like some lunatic, I'm gonna change the subject yeah? Good. So-” you cleared your throat “What are your plans for the holidays? Seeing as you are in town.”

A deep chuckle left his lips and he nodded his head “Yeah, that's a better topic. Uhm honestly, haven't thought that far yet. I was just driving with Miracle, that's my dog by the way, and decided to stop by here to do some shopping without Sam shoving his rabbit food in my cart, you know?” he said, leaving out the part where seeing as the holidays were right around the corner he couldn't stop thinking about you - just like he did every time that time of the year - and drove back to the town he had first met you in hopes (and possibly with a lot of wishful thinking) that he could see you even from far away. It had not worked out in his favor the past couple times, he didn't expect it to happen this year but here he was and here you were and he felt worse than a child on Christmas' day. Giddy and buzzing with excitement and nerves, almost lightheaded the longer he looked at you.

“And you?” he asked after a few second, even though he would have been content looking at you and taking everything in forever “You got me carried around talking about my life and you didn't tell me a thing about yourself. Anything... interesting going on? I don't suppose you plan on spending the holidays all alone?... Besides your family and friends I mean.”

“Alone? No, of course not. I've got the most handsome and loyal man waiting for me at home. So I'm picking out whatever I can for the both of us now.” you grinned and he was almost sure you too could hear his heart shutter inside his chest, at least before you spoke up again “Yeah, I might have a bit trouble since I don't know what he likes yet but I think he'd find it easier to communicate with Miracle than with me, so I improvise.” you shrugged with a grin “I got a puppy a couple months ago as well.”

“Oh oh!” he blinked in surprise, his hands shaking in relief as a smile that made his cheeks hurt got plastered on his face “That's great! I remember you always wanted one. It's so great to see you finally got that. So you... I assume, you don't got... someone else then? I- I mean, not that it would have been a shock. Any guy should thank their lucky stars to have you by their side.”

“Nah no guy in my life like that. It's been a while actually. I'm just as single as you this Christmas, I'm starting to think there must be a pattern. Just like it happened back in high school, when we first met.”

“With the only difference that you're always the pretty one out of the two of us. I mean-” he laughed “Look at you, all these years have passed and you remain as beautiful as then if not more. It looks like not a single day has passed.” he breathed out the small confession, letting some of his truth slip into his words as he admired you. Things he had not been able to tell you back then slipped from his lips in a matter of seconds, though not any more easily.

“Yeah, as if.” you scoffed a laugh, looking down with a shake of your head “Besides, I remember someone else being the most popular kid in the school, even if you were the new guy. I mean, you had all the girls practically begging for a single look from you Dean. It was as if you were some god walking amongst us, even with some of that bad boy attitude. It had never been like that for me and the boys, heck I can't even remember a single guy that looked at me like I was a goddess or anything.”

If only you had decided to turn your head and take a look at him then you would get to see that and so much more. He had always looked at you as if you had put the stars up in the sky for him. Sam's words, not his. And if he had scarred off any guy with a single look or a couple more words during that time, it wasn't because he was acting worse than a territorial Alpha. Again Sam's words. The kid did talk a lot, yes, Dean had decided early on back in high school.

“I mean-” another laugh from you brought him back to the present “It's no surprise that none of the guys asked me out in Winter Ball back in high school, I didn't make it easier with how closed off I was back then.” and Dean and his looks didn't make it easier for the few that were about to ask either “So I'm cool with being alone this Christmas too. But what's really surprising is how someone like you is. I mean, you didn't go to that Winter Ball with anyone either, I remember that correctly?”

“No uh yeah, you're right. I never went to that one with anyone. Even though some girls-” he stopped himself before shaking his head, a laugh slipping past his lips as he he looked down for a moment.

“What?” you asked with a sweet grin and he almost caved right then and there. Or maybe he did, maybe he should at last.

“I just- I never realized my life was such a bad Hallmark Movie. I mean, I always thought it was a tragedy but no, gosh, it's a sappy Christmas movie.” he laugh, shaking his head in disbelief, taking in your laugh and the way it made his heart flutter.

“Why do you say that?”

“I mean-” he paused, he could take it back, he could change it, come up with something else and all this would be forgotten but then... then another chance would be lost again and this, this was not the same life anymore; he was not the same man, or better yet he was finally the man he wanted to be with a life he wanted and had full control over “I mean to say that... I almost asked you out in Winter Ball back in highschool because I've always had feelings for you but- but I chickened out and now it's Christmas and we're both alone and single, so maybe this is some second chance? Cause if it ain't that, then, it sure is a sappy movie or a cheesy fanfic... with a bad ending.”

The words were out before he could take them back. And part of him felt proud for himself, after years of endless pining and daydreaming - clearly Sam's words, thank you very much - he never thought there would come a day when he said all of this and yet here he was. Another part of him, a greater part, felt terrified. You looked at him with wide eyes, lips parted in shock and he had to hold himself from taking it back. He had lost one chance he wasn't going to lose this one too, no matter the outcome. And the outcome he did fear especially when there were no words coming out of you. His heart was pounding in his chest, all of his blood rushing in his ears and his lungs hurting because of how long he was holding his breath. His worry was slowly but surely turning into fear, however before he could say anything - not to take it back but to make you feel less bad about having to turn him down. It was an option, very plausible given how much of a catch you were as opposed to him, you spoke up.

“Or...” you spoke softly, playing nervously with the sleeve of your sweater “Or there is a third option, you know. I mean-” you shrugged and he felt like he was forever holding his breath, waiting for you to look into his eyes, holding his gaze for a few seconds before you spoke up “I always liked fanfics with happy endings?” before he could get to question you, you pointed upwards. And as his eyes followed yours, he did take notice of what you previously had. He blinked in surprise a soft laugh leaving his lips.

“Personally, I love cheesy movies or fanfics.” you said and looked back at you he noticed the shy grin that was on your lips and he made him feel 18 all over again “And if that mistletoe hasn't been there all this time... then, well, I think the new guy that's running heaven is really having a fit with our lives right now.”

“I don't know, I will really have to ask him next time I see him I think. Sam did love to tell him about my endless pinning and daydreaming every time Christmas was around.” a heartfelt laugh made his chest rumble, pleasant tingles filling up his entire body especially as he heard you giggle.

“Did you now? Wow. This day is full of surprises, then.” you bit your lower lip for a moment before adding “Well you what, we're gonna have a family gathering and dinner for the holidays tomorrow. I know it's on short notice but if you'd like to then... you know you're always welcome in my place and-”

“I would love to come, yes.” he breathed out almost embarrassingly fast, but your smile made it all worth it.

“Wonderful!” you grinned You don't need to bring anything, we've got everything, but if you'd wanna you can bring Miracle. And if Sam manages to make it here until tomorrow then he's more than welcome too.”

“Sure, I'll tell him. See if can be here.” he would but he already knew that Sam would do anything to give the two of you more time together so he knew he wouldn't be showing up “The real question here is: Will that aunt of yours be there?”

A beautiful laugh immediately came from your before you looked at him a bit apologetically “For a moment there I thought you'd have forgotten. Yeah, sorry, there's not way to avoid that.”

“So long as I'm not sitting right next to her on the dinner table, I think I will survive.”

“She's gonna keep her hands to herself, I'm sure. Besides-” you shrugged softly, looking up at him through your lashes “I don't think she would hit on my date too.”

“No, I don't think she would either. But in case you need to make it more obvious, kisses are allowed 24/7.” he said with an innocent shrug.

“Ah yes, about that.” you smiled, leaning up to peck his cheek “I would love to give you more, hopefully very soon. Especially in front of the Christmas tree at my own apartment afterwards, while we catch up.”

His eyes widened in surprise and you giggled before he breathed out “Gosh, I freaking love cheesy fanfics.”

[mymoonagedaydream]

Home (Part 2)

Summary: As you got closer to Bucky again, some kind of emotional crescendo was inevitable.

Pairing: Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: I got one more part after this, so let’s call it a mini-series

---

You slept in the next morning, getting out of bed only to traipse down to the living room and lounge around in your pyjamas on the couch for the rest of the day.

It was the holidays- you were allowed to be disgustingly lazy if you wanted.

Evening came around before you knew it, the smell of your mother’s cooking filling up the house as you stared dead-eyed at the Hallmark Channel, all the white couples wearing red and green sweaters slowly blurring into one.

You were only awoken from your hypnosis by your dad leaning over the back of the couch, jingling some car keys at you.

‘I need to take your mother’s death-trap to Barnes’, you wanna come along?’

‘Really?’ You frowned, eyes darting to the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘It’s almost seven, surely they’re closed?’

‘They are, but Bucky offered to work on it out of hours.’

You gave an impressed nod, adopting your best impression of your mother. ‘What a nice young man he is.’

‘You know it, skip.’ 

He grinned as you hoisted yourself up from the couch and shoved a coat over your pyjamas, figuring that getting dressed this late in the evening would just be an absolute waste of time. 

The two of you hopped in the car, both cringing at the metallic scraping sound the engine made when your dad turned the key. 

After a tense few death-defying minutes, you finally pulled up at the workshop. Your dad honked the horn and the shutter door began to rise, slowly revealing what you could only deduce to be an extra from the music video for Uptown Girl.

Oh wait, no, it was just Bucky.

His choice to sport a tank top mid-December was definitely a bold one, but Jesus fucking Christ you weren’t complaining. Glistening with sweat and covered in grease stains, he looked like a page from a raunchy calendar hung up in an office full of middle-aged spinsters.

He waved the car in, greeting your dad with some kind of bro-hug ordeal that immediately confused the hell out of you. 

Those two were buds now? What else had you missed?

‘Hey, Lilypad.’ Bucky looked you up and down, raising an eyebrow at the plaid pyjama pants peeking out from underneath your coat. ‘Nice outfit.’

‘Thought I’d make a bit of an effort.’

‘For little old me? You shouldn’t have.’

You gave him a playful shove on the shoulder as you strolled past, taking yourself for a little tour of the shop floor while he started searching under the bonnet.

The place was surprisingly neat and tidy, you were quite impressed. The only questionable thing you found was a scantily clad centrefold torn out of a magazine and pinned to the corkboard, upon which some comedian had scribbled the words ‘Bucky’s girlfriend’.

You’d be having words about that.

Completing your journey, you re-joined the boys just in time to see your dad reach his wallet from his back pocket and wave it towards Bucky.

‘How much?’

‘You're joking, right?’

‘Let me give you something. I insist.’

Bucky chuckled, pulling a dirty rag from his pocket and roughly wiping his hands. ‘Honestly, it’s fine. It’ll be ready in the morning.’

‘Ah, you’re one of the good ones Buck.’ Your dad clapped him on the shoulder before turning to you. ‘Come on then, squirt. Dinner should be almost ready.’

For some reason, you found yourself very reluctant to leave. Jesus, you’d actually prefer to spend the rest of the evening in this cold, halogen-lit grease pool with budget Billy Joel than at home in front of a warm fire. That boy had magical powers or some shit.

‘I don’t mind sticking around, if you want?’ Bucky shot you a slightly confused frown. ‘I could go out and pick us up some food.’

‘You sure? Passing up your mom’s cooking for this place seems crazy.’

‘Least I can do, we’ll count the company as payment.’

His frown slowly melted into a warm smile. ‘Sounds great.’

You looked back at your dad, who was absolutely beaming, eyes flicking between the two of you like he was at Wimbledon. His excitement was sweet, but you knew he was only invested in your relationship because it had the potential to give him a lifetime of free car repairs.

‘Well, you kids have fun.’

After loitering around for a few minutes, you eventually headed out to pick up dinner from a nearby takeout. It was freezing and your pyjamas got pretty soggy, but your good mood didn’t waver for a second. You were really excited to have an evening alone with Bucky.

When you got back, he’d ferreted out some old car seats for the two of you to sit on while you ate.

‘So I saw the photo of your girlfriend hanging up back there.’

‘Oh, that’s just a stupid joke.’ He immediately went bright red, tripping over his words a little. ‘The guys here keep trying to set me up on dates but I always say no, so they found me a “paper girlfriend” instead.’

‘Maybe they’d leave you alone if you sucked it up and just gave it a try.’

‘I think you’d take that back if you’d seen some of these women.’

You raised your eyebrows at him. ‘Never had you down as shallow, Barnes.’

‘Oh, c’mon. I’m not I just-’ He chuckled slightly when he realised you weren’t being serious, eyes flicking back down to his food. ‘I have a pretty specific type.’

‘Maybe too specific?’

‘You could say that, yeah.’

There was that weird atmosphere again, it kept creeping up on you at the most inconvenient times. 

You just changed the subject.

Once you’d both finished eating, you watched him work for a while, quickly flicking your eyes away from his bare arms every time he looked up but definitely getting caught a few times. Oh well.

It must’ve been getting close to midnight when you started dozing off, full to the brim with junk food and warmed up by the space heater Bucky had pointed in your direction. You were almost completely asleep when you felt him softly shaking your shoulder.

‘Home time, Lilypad. You need a ride?’

You peeled your eyes open, yawning as you stumbled to your feet. ‘Ugh, that’d be great. Did you drive here?’

‘Nope.’ He turned around and crouched down a little. ‘Hop on.’

‘For real?’

‘For real.’

Still pretty dazed, you did your best to clamber up onto his back, settling your head into the crook of his neck whilst trying to ignore the all feelings that his strong grip around your legs was provoking.

He somehow managed to lock up the garage while you were clinging onto him like a baby monkey, the cold night air waking you up a little more as he started on the short walk home. 

You were only expecting a lift as far as his house, but he seemed to deliberately miss the turning.

‘We just passed your street.’

‘I wouldn’t be much of a public transport service if I didn’t take you the whole way now, would I?’

‘You never were one to do things by halves.’ You pressed your cheek against the side of his head. ‘But you know I’m not paying you for this, right?’

‘I’m sure we can come to some kind of arrangement.’

‘In your dreams, Yucky.’

‘You’re damn right about that.’

He took you all the way to your doorstep, refusing to drop you until you were inches away from your front door. After gently setting you down, he spun round, a goofy grin plastered across his face.

You chuckled, trying to find your key. ‘I probably won’t see you now until after Christmas, so I hope you have a really nice one.’

‘Yeah, you too.’ He paused for a second, his hand feeling around in his pocket, looking as though he was building up to something important. ‘I’ll see you for games night though, right?’

Oh, apparently not.

‘Right. Night, Buck.’

Stepping forward, he placed his hand on the back of your head, gently pulling you towards him and pressing a soft kiss just below your hairline.

‘G’night, Lilypad.’

---

Christmas came and went, your family had their usual two day lock-in. You ate until you couldn’t stand, played so many board games that you had them all down to a perfect science and didn’t change out of your pyjamas for two days.

Spending so much time with your parents made you realise how much you’d missed them, and how much you’d miss them when you left again.

Aside from all the warmth and loveliness of your family, there was another big highlight to your day- a text from Bucky that you woke up to on Christmas morning.

Merry Christmas, Lilypad. It wasn’t the same last year without you.

---

The evening of the 26th was games night. 

The doorbell rang and you leaped up, yanking it open and immediately pulling Bucky into a hug. You tried to greet his parents too, but it was a little difficult while you were being squeezed like a vice and carried towards the living room.

Everyone settled in while your mom made up the drinks. It was so reassuring to see that the end of your relationship with Bucky hadn’t tarnished the firm friendship that’d formed between your parents, the relaxed atmosphere between everyone made it felt like nothing had really changed since you left.

A little while after they’d arrived, you scuttled off to the kitchen for a snack, not noticing Bucky hot on your heels. You jumped out of your skin when you spotted him in the corner of your eye, a nervous laugh escaping his lips.

‘I was just, uh- wondering if we could-’ He took a deep breath, steadying himself. ‘Could we go upstairs?’

You studied him for a second before answering. He was struggling to keep still, shifting back and forth on his feet while also seemingly unable to find a comfortable resting position for his arms. He was tense and anxious, you’d never seen him like this before.

‘Is everything alright?’

‘Yeah, all good. I just thought it’d be nice to talk in private for a bit.’

‘Sure.’ You gave him an apprehensive nod and gestured for him to follow you. ‘We can go to my room.’

Dread started to churn in your stomach as you slowly ascended the stairs, his heavy footsteps clunking up behind you. Bucky was the most laid-back, carefree guy you knew, what the hell could have him so jittery?

You led him into your bedroom, hearing a low chuckle as he closed the door behind him. ‘This place hasn’t changed a bit.’

‘I think my mom likes to keep it ready in case of surprise visits.’ You sat on your bed, patting the space next to you, giving him a warm smile as he took the invitation. ‘So what’s up?’

‘I haven't had a chance to give you your Christmas present.’

‘Oh, well it’s too late now.’ You teased him, trying your best to ease some of his nerves. ‘You’ll have to try again next year.’

‘I don’t think I’ll be able to wait that long.’

Digging a hand into his pocket, he pulled out a small, clumsily wrapped present and quickly handed it to you.

‘Thank you, that’s really sweet.’ You felt it in your hands for a second. ‘Insert good-things-small-packages cliché here.’

Eagerly tearing off the wrapping paper, you felt your heart drop into your stomach.

It was a ring box. 

Your eyes shot up to him.

‘Open it.’

‘I don’t think I can Buck, I-’

‘Just, before you say anything, let me explain.’ You nodded faintly, feeling tears pricking your eyes. ‘You remember our last year together, how I told you that my dad was making me work all those hours? He wasn't. I asked him for them, cause I was saving up.’

You felt like you'd been shot in the stomach. ‘You bought it before I left?’

Flashbacks of your break-up conversation flooded into your mind. You’d been the first one to suggest separation, but you vividly remembered Bucky agreeing without hesitation, so quick that it made you think he’d lost interest in you.

‘I thought you wanted to break-up?’ Your words got a bit tangled in your mouth, the wave of emotions you were experiencing making it difficult for you to string your thoughts together.

‘I didn’t want to hold you back. I knew what the job meant to you.’

Your gaze darted back down to the box in your hand. ‘And you kept it all this time?’

‘It's not mine to give away, it's yours. It's always been yours.’ He placed his hand on top of yours. ‘I just couldn’t let you go again without it.’

Your mind went completely blank, the only sensations you could focus on were the sting of hot tears rolling down your face and the feeling of his rough skin against yours. You let your gaze slowly rise back to his face, the sight of his wide, blue eyes fixed on you making it even harder for you to untangle yourself.

Before you could even try to speak, he leaned towards you, cupping your face in his hand and softly pressing his lips against yours. 

You let your eyes flutter closed, the only tangible thought rolling around your mind was how much you’d missed this, how much you’d missed him.

It was only a few seconds before he pulled away, letting out a heavy sigh and resting his forehead against yours.

This was too much, you felt your breathing becoming more frantic as you tried to pull yourself together. You turned your head slightly, roughly wiping the drying tears off your cheeks, doing everything you could to just think without being overcome by emotion.

‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘You don’t have to say anything. Just stay.’

‘I’m so sorry, Buck.’ You felt yourself beginning to crumble again as you carefully placed the box back in his hand. ‘I can’t.’

---

Part 3

---

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---

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Metallo!Lena AU Pt 18

Wresting back control of LuthorCorp is easier than Lena expects. She's forgotten that she was voted in once, that the shareholders had actively wanted her in the lead, wanted her to pull them back from the brink. It doesn't hurt her case that the company floundered even further after her presumed death. Who better to bring it back to life, the board surmised, than the ressurrected Luthor herself?

Towards that end, Lena hires an army of people to bring her back to life. She recruits a publicity firm to handle the media, she hires a stylist team to shop an entire wardrobe for, and an accounting agency to figure exactly how much money she has to her name.

Lena allows her army free reign to put her life back in order, and in the meantime she devotes her time to resuming her battle for the good opinion of National City. As a vigilante, being Supergirl's friend helps a great deal, but for Lena herself, she has work to do.

Through a series of follow up articles, Lena shares herself with Kara, and by extension CatCo's readership. At LuthorCorp, she ingrains herself in the daily workings of the company. She's already laid much of the groundwork before the crash, but she's still full of nerves as she re-introduces herself to each and every department.

She's keenly aware that a handshake from her could now snap bones, so one corner of her mind is always conscious of her strength, always careful. Part of her now recognizes why Kara spent so much time at the DEO, where everyone knows her strength and how deadly she could be-- they know to keep their distance.

At L-Corp, everyone presses close, eager for smiles and soft words of welcome backs. Lena remains on the razor's edge of awareness, leaving her drained by the time she walks back into the apartment she shares with Kara.

"Oh, wow," Kara mutters when Lena returns after her first day. It takes Lena a moment to realize her friend is staring, and a moment longer to remember that Kara had been called away for an early DEO emergency that morning, and that this is the first time they've seen each other all day. Kara's already comfy in pajamas and an NCU sweatshirt, but Lena is still dressed for the office, in an outfit her stylist selected for her.

Kara blinks, her eyes traveling all the way down to Lena's feet, arched in killer heels. Only then does she shake herself out of it.

"Oh, wow," she repeats, this time less stunned and more concerned. "You must be exhausted."

Lena huffs, rolling her eyes. "You have no idea."

She's been sleeping on the sofa's daybed at night, but at the moment its folded up into the couch. Lena clicks her way over and slumps into the increasingly familiar cushions, chucking off her shoes haphazardly.

Kara scurries over and hands her a bowl of pasta. Lena accepts it with a grateful smile and waits for Kara to join her on the couch with her own bowl before she tucks in. Its simple, just a snack of buttered noodles to pick them up, but Lena devours it in record time.

"How's CatCo?"

Kara grimaces. "Awful. Snapper hates me. Which is actually normal for him, but... some of the others have joined in this time. A little less thuggishly, but still."

Lena frowns. "Wait 'til christmas. They'll be thanking you for their holiday bonus."

"I don't want them to like me because I helped get them money," Kara counters. "I want them to like me because I'm nice. Or good at my job."

Lena smiles. "I give them another week before they're eating out of your hand." When Kara looks at her, she shrugs knowingly. "Isn't that about how long it took you to break through to me?"

Kara scoffs, thumping her with a pillow. "You're different."

"Am I?"

"Well, yeah. You're.... you."

"That explains everything, thank you."

---

Lena doesn't patrol with Supergirl anymore-- the district attorney's office serves a cease and desist the morning after her first interview with Kara airs, xiting that having such a high profile figure running amok on the streets would only incite chaos, not prevent it. But the DA's reach doesn't extend to the DEO, and so when Supergirl reaches out for help investigating the strange rash of young adults deliberately in harm's way in the hopes of being saved by the hero, Lena readily agrees.

With Kara in her guise as a reporter, they track the group to a meeting space, and discover that it's actually a religious group-- devoted to Supergirl.

"Miss Luthor!"

Lena's recognized immediately. Kara bristles at the exclamation, but Lena squeezes her wrist in reassurance. She can handle a room full of disillusioned young adults, but if anyone recognized Kara, they were done.

A slender man with a wet-eyed look approaches them. "It is an honor to have you here, Miss Luthor. Any friend of Supergirl's is a friend of ours. How did you learn of our group?"

Lena flashes one of the flyers they'd used to find the dingy little room. "We received one of these. What exactly is this?"

"You've arrived just in time to find out," the man says with a simpering sort of smile. "Please, find a seat, and make yourselves comfortable."

Sharing a look, Lena and Kara make their way to the rows of chairs, settling in towards the back. The meeting opens with a girl who shares her story of rescue-- one entirely genuine, not fabricated like the recent arsons and trespasses.

When a young man follows, then an older woman, Kara realizes she's saved all of these people. She doesn't feel honored-- she feels sick. But Lena has her eye on the leader, who introduces himself as Thomas Coville. There's something about him that rubs her the wrong way, and the moment they leave she says as much to Kara.

"I get that being saved from certain death could turn someone's life around," she hisses in a low voice. "But starting a religion? No one does that unless they want power, and when someone wants power, that makes them dangerous."

She resolves to get close to him, and to everyone's surprise, it's shockingly easy to do so. All it takes is modifying her cover story so that it's Supergirl who pulled her from the fiery helicopter crash and whisked her away to anonymity-- and she's in. It takes almost a month before Coville hints that he's got something big planned.

When he leads Lena and the rest of his congregation to the basement of the National City sports stadium, Lena puts a finger to her ear.

"Now."

Supergirl and the DEO swarm the basement. They begin arresting people, and shuffling them all out. The last to go is Coville, but the man is anything but perturbed.

"By Rao's will," he says, a sentiment echoed by his followers. None of them resist. Only then does Lena catch sight of the betahedron in one corner of the basement.

"Is that...?"

It powers up, its light pulsing more quickly. Supergirl cries out, dropping to her knees. Lena rushes to her side, only to jerk back when she sees her friend's skin threaded green kryptonite. Pressing the button on her watch, her vigilante suit forms around her-- she'd lined it with lead in case her kryptonite ever failed. But Kara continues to groan, and Lena realizes she isn't the culprit this time.

"The betahedron!" she calls. It's starting to pulse faster now, which can only mean one thing. "It's gonna blow-- get everyone out, now!"

"There's a packed house upstairs," Alex says over comms. "There's no way to evacuate in time. You'll have to find a way to disarm it."

"It's a fucking alien probe, Alex!" There might not BE a way to disarm it. Behind her, Lena can hear Kara struggling for breath. She can't do anything to disarm it, but she can't do nothing, either. A dozen ideas fire through her brain, but all of them are discarded as usless.

All but one.

With only a moment's hesitation, Lena approaches the betahedron and punches a hole through its plating, peeling the outer layer back until she can see the pulsing green crystal within.

Removing her gauntlet, Lena pages her comms. "Director Danvers!"

"You got something, Luthor?"

Lena takes a deep breath. "Maybe. If it works, I'm going to be radioactive as hell." She looks over her shoulder, meeting Kara's pained gaze.

"No matter what happens, don't let Supergirl touch my fucking body."

Kara's eyes grow wide with realization. "Lena, NO!"

Lena thrusts her arm into the betahedron and grips the kryptonite with all her strength. She screams as the radioactive energy crackles up her arm towards her chest, seeking it's grounding point in the crystal embedded there. The manufactured kryptonite absorbs the energy, buffering and containing it for long, perilous moments before the first cracks begin to form.

Lena hopes it'll last long enough to diffuse the kryptonite energy of the bomb and neutralize its explosive power.

As her senses go dark, all she can do is hold on with all her might, and not let go.

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