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ramp-it-up · 20 hours ago

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Peach, Part IV

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is Bucky Barnes' best friend and business parter in crime. He has decided to get out of the life with Bucky because it's the right thing to do. And now he is in love. With you. He wants to move forward with you and now he's got you on his turf.

Pairing: Art Dealer/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: I love these two with my whole heart. This is turning into the slowest of burns, sorry not sorry. This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in the Bucky Barnes fic Worth the Fall and the Steve Rogers fic Peach III. We're at the second week of December, there is still so much in my head to say. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angst. Slow burn, Mutual pining, idiots in love, drinking, body parts tingling, wild wild thoughts of breeding, taking each other down in various ways, and cock riding. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

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--------

On one of your many walks along the beach, you teased your cousin about being the future Mrs. Bucky Barnes, and she tried to get you to talk about Steve, explaining some of the backstory to what happened in Atlanta.

But you were intransigent.

“Look. I know how stubborn you are. And how tough you are, because you’ve had to be. But I also know how big your heart is and how worthy you are of love. You are passing up on the chance to find your one true love.”

You scoffed.

“Love? Everyone can’t be all starry eyed and head over heels like you and Bunny boy.”

She laughed and shook her head at your nickname for Bucky, who you’d grown to like a lot over the weekend.

“And Steven, disguised at Grant, just wanted to get in my panties, which he achieved.”

You looked toward the waves as you thought about how Grant got you to see fireworks that night in your apartment, and the things Steve said that he wanted to do to you the other night.

“I have no doubt that Steve Rogers wants to fuck you girl. Look at you. You are fine as fuck.”

You laughed at your cousin dressing you down and gassing you up at the same time.

“But let’s be clear. You wanted to fuck him too. You still do. I see the way you look at him.”

“Hey! I didn’t lie–”

“Ah-ah!”

She silenced you with a finger.

“I know he lied about who he was, but were you completely honest with him? Totally?”

You side eyed your cousin as you imagined strangling her. But you weren’t eleven years old anymore.

And she wasn’t wrong.

“Yes, Steve lied, but he wants to make amends. He has feelings for you.”

You gave your cousin a side eye.

“Did he tell you that? And you trust him?”

“With my life.”

She put her arm around you and pulled you close as you walked.

“Listen, I know you are guarding your heart, but I know Steve. He’s got this exterior that seems one way, but he will surprise you. He’s a really, really good guy.”

You sighed, still not there yet.

“I’m good on that, cousin.”

“Okay. I’ll tell him that you have a heart of stone and that he should move on. It’s not like there aren’t bitches lined up to suck his dick every day in the city…”

A jolt of jealousy zipped through you, but you pushed it down. You just took a deep breath and gave her an overly bright smile.

“I don’t care who slobs on his lil’ knob.”

She rolled her eyes at you.

“Riiggght, cousin. Anyway. You are still taking the endowment money right?”

You raised your eyebrow at her and nodded.

“Nothing is going to get in the way of this dream, cousin.”

She grinned back at you, almost as bright as the sun.

“That’s my girl! We gon’ have a time in New York City…”

—

Sunday morning before you drove back to Atlanta, you went to the kitchen just as Steve came back in from a run on the beach. The rest of the family was going to Church and then he, Bucky and your cousin were going to fly back to New York on the private jet.

“Hey.”

He chucked his chin up at you like you were one of his bros.

The audacity.

“Hello.”

You kept it cute as he moved around you to grab a glass to get some water from the tap. The scent of sweat, ocean air, and him wrapped around you and you inhaled deeply, closing your eyes to savor it. It was like you were lost.

You opened your eyes to find him watching you as he downed the glass in one gulp, a drop of water escaping and rolling down his chin to his neck and disappearing into the already wet collar of his tight t-shirt.

You cleared your throat as he maintained eye contact with you and wiped his lips with his thumb, and some unseen force made you watch those thick fingers that felt you up not a month before, your nipples tight and panties wet.

Damn, this man and his effect on you.

You stared as his eyes swept down your body as if he knew what you looked like naked. He had seen you dance, and felt you up over and under your clothes, but that wasn’t what the look of possession was about.

This man wanted you.

—-

Steve almost ran back outside when he saw you in the kitchen as he came in. He’s taken a run to calm the erection he had when he woke up because of you, and now, here you were, dressed almost exactly the same as when he had the opportunity to kiss you and make you cum in his arms exactly 29 days earlier.

Yes, he was keeping count.

Steve was practically speechless, yet he managed to get out a crude, ‘Hey’ and a head motion as a greeting. What was that?

He wanted close to you, to feel your skin against his lips again, to check and see if you were wet, which you were judging from your slightly open lips and blown pupils. He didn’t go near you as he got a drink however, because no matter how much he was into knife and gun play, he wasn’t going there.

Steve wanted in your heart, not just your pants.

When you closed your eyes and visibly inhaled (probably to calm your anger, he imagined), he used the opportunity to watch your chest rise and watch the sunlight play on your skin. Those beautiful eyes caused his heart to clench when you opened them and he couldn’t tear his away as he drank his water.

Which he needed at the moment. Desperately.

Unconsciously, he wiped his lips with his thumb, remembering the texture of you as he did so. You cleared your throat, snapping him out of it.

“Peach…”

He stopped, waiting for your retort. You just stood there, expectant and although he was shocked as shit, he continued.

“I want to apologize for lying to you and for allowing things to get…physical while you believed a lie.”

You watched him for what seemed like a long time, but was really only seconds.

“I accept your apology, Steve, and I believe in forgiveness, if only for myself being able to move on, but I’m not ready to forget or fully trust you.” Steve nodded.

“I get it. I’m really sorry.”

You shrugged.

“I know you were trying to help Bucky get clean for my cousin, and I love her big, so, I can’t stay mad. And it’s clear that you are ride or die for those you love.”

And then you cocked your head at him in that adorable way and his heart crumbled into the sparkly bits of honey in your eyes.

“I feel like you love my cousin. Like family. So I guess that makes us family too.”

When you gave him a small smile, he smiled back dreamily. He was a teenage boy in your presence.

“I guess you’re right.”

Steve thought of family and a vision of you as a mother had him in a chokehold. You had him raging hard and wanting to bend you over the kitchen island and breed you until his seed dripped down your legs. Instead, he moved behind it to hide his condition.

“We will have to be in contact because of the endowment, which I am taking because of my students and the fact that it’s been my dream since I was 12 years old. It was then that I started being told that I was all wrong. My ass was too big. My breasts were too bouncy. I didn’t have a ‘desirable dance body.’”

Steve’s eyes openly scanned you. He looked angry, then scoffed.

“That's ridiculous.”

“Of course it is.”

“Don't change a thing. That would be criminal.”

You paused and then gave him a slightly larger smile then.

“Believe me, I'm not planning to change myself. I’m planning on changing the world.”

Steve stared at you, astounded at your fierce courage. No one else could compare.

“I’m serious. I know that sounds grandiose, but I want to leave my mark. I started a dance company so that any body with talent can get on a stage and have a career, regardless of their shape and size. That’s why I’m accepting the endowment. We can be business partners if it means those dreams can come true.”

You were a force. Damn, that only made Steve love you more.

“Brava, Peach.”

You stared back into those baby blues and coughed, trying to clear your throat from the lump that had formed there. Your goals and dreams always made you get intense.

“Need some water?”

Steve was already reaching for another glass. His eyes went wide as you reached for his and finished off what was left in it. He almost came at the thought of your lips where his had been. Holy mother of god.

“That hit the spot, thanks.”

You licked your lips and he nearly fainted, and as you turned toward the stairs, giving him a view of your backside, and looked back at him, he almost ethered to the sky.

“See you next week, Mr. Rogers. Have a safe flight.”

—-

Steve felt frantic the entire seven days leading up to the day he’d see you again. He and Sam and Nat and Bucky had lots of work to do, but he felt like a bumbling idiot, because his perfectionism was getting in the way.

Bucky saw the barriers Steve’s mind was putting in his way and spent extra time helping him. That’s why Bucky was his brother, Steve’s only family since his mother died when he was a kid.

They worked day and night, it seemed, to be ready for the summit.

Steve managed to take a few minutes to himself each night, sketching before he slept. The images of you that came from the lead of his pencil soothing his spirit and filling his dreams. They also caused him to wake up with a stiff reminder of your feel and smell in his nostrils.

Steve Rogers couldn’t wait to see his Peach again.

—--

You kept checking the emailed itinerary on the phone as you tried to relax in business class. All of the endowment recipients were arriving in New York around the same time period in the afternoon, and you were being picked up and chauffeured to your hotel, then three hours later, to a reception at a club in the Rebirth Building.

Then, you would be left to your own devices for dinner and to turn in or turn up. Turning up with your cousin was the only option.

You decided to try and catch some zzzz’s on the plane so you wouldn’t be too tired later. You also wanted to calm your nerves. This was a big deal for your dance school, you told yourself. You weren’t nervous about seeing Steve Rogers again on his turf.

Not at all.

—---

The driver that picked you up from the airport, complete with your name on a placard, Nico, was super nice. You were surprised that your cousin was in the car. You two squealed and talked and laughed on the way, and you were in such a good mood that you didn’t pay much attention when she addressed him by his first name very familiarly. He must be a very friendly guy.

Your check-in at the 1 Hotel Brooklyn was a breeze. The concierge let you know that you checked in at the right time; you happened to be upgraded to a one bedroom suite with a view of the New York skyline and the Statue of Liberty. The king sized bed looked like a dream, so you took a nap before you got ready for the evening. You wanted to be at your best amongst the other five Endowment awardees.

—-

You walked into the bar, Bea, and you were struck at how gorgeous it was, and how masculine.

There was rich mahogany wood everywhere, and the bartop material was a dark black honed marble. There were luxurious upholstered leather chairs and booths throughout and floor to ceiling wine coolers.

You were looking around in awe as a young woman came up and handed you a name tag.

“You must be Ms. YLN. Welcome.”

You greeted her as your cousin smirked at you. She grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing wait staff.

“How…”

You gaped at her.

“All staff have been briefed on all of you. Nothing but the best this week.”

“Oh. Okay…” She giggled as you continued your inspection of the place. Steve and ‘nem had more money than you thought. A lot more. A thought crossed your mind.

“Wait. Do you work for them?”

You narrowed your eyes at your cousin as she rolled hers.

“Well, tangentially. Bucky funded our Howard Benson exhibit at the Center and so I’ve worked with Rebirth on some Harlem Renaissance initiatives around Brooklyn and the other boroughs. I’ve also een helping Bucky and the crew prepare for this week.”

“Ah. Okay.”

You took a sip of your drink and continued your perusal.

It was your cousin’s turn now.

“Listen, bitch.You’ve got to chill. No one is out to get you, especially me.”

Your cousin looked halfway angry. But she was still adorable.

“You’re so fucking cute. Love looks good on you.”

You smiled at her serenely and she shook her head at you, knowing you too well.

“Don’t give me your shit, Peach. I was there in Hilton Head. You will act like you have some sense.”

“I’m civilized, cousin. Steve and I had a talk before I left. I’m chilling.”

“You better.”

She pointed to the gathering crowd in the room.

“Now go network.”

—--

Your laugh. It gave Steve goosebumps.

He hadn’t heard your full laugh much in Atlanta, just some low, sexy chuckles, because you two hadn’t talked much. And you certainly weren’t happy when he showed up at your family’s house. But you seemed much more relaxed this evening and Steve decided that it was his favorite thing in the world.

He spotted you as soon as you walked in with your cousin and she was beautiful as always.

But you.

When you finally noticed him, you seemed surprised, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, but not angry at all. He gained hope, and stood up straight, wondering if he looked good to you because you were certainly a vision to his eyes.

The outfit you were wearing was classy, yet could not hide that body from the eyes that studied it every chance he got. Which was every time he saw you.

As you mingled, and he shmoozed, he consistently had to force his eyes away from your tempting curves, your gorgeous face, the sound of your voice. And that fucking laugh. It wrapped itself around his heart and squeezed, seeped into his soul and spread warmth.

Not to mention the effect you had on his cock.

You were a fucking vision in black wide-legged leather pants and a plain white tee that hugged your mouthwatering tits, accessorized with red pointy heels a red clutch and an off white wool trench coat. The edgy outfit was very appropriate for the art world and although you were all covered up, your body wasn’t hidden from him, only accentuated. To top it off, your normally coily hair was straightened and loosely curled, calling for his fingers to slide through the thick strands.

It’s your eyes that got to him, though, those fucking beautiful eyes that he longed to see hazy with the pleasure he was giving you. He maintained eye contact with you as he thought his lurid thoughts, and raised his drink in a salute. You smiled at him and raised your drink in response and his heart soared.

Although he wanted to be near you immediately, he decided to give you some space. He didn’t want to force anything. Well, maybe he wanted to force his thick cock into your tiny cunt.

He licked his lips, then shook his head and scowled at Bucky as he noticed Steve staring at you. But he didn’t stop.

Careful now, Steve told himself. Take it slow.

—--

You mingled and met some of your fellow recipients. They were a diverse group of people from all over the country, but most seemed type cool. There was one who latched on to you, Sharon Carter. She was a photographer from Memphis and was very chatty. She was glued to your side as you made the rounds and you weren’t too mad. She just didn’t shut up.

“How do you like your room? A double with a view of the base of the Brooklyn Bridge. And after a three hour coach flight. Fancy.”

You sipped your drink and Sharon’s sarcasm. Your mind started whirling.

“Get a load of those beautiful people right there. Those are our benefactors.”

You looked to where she was indicating and were surprised to see Steve, dressed in and standing with Bucky, another tall handsome man with a low cut fade, and a petite fit redhead woman. They all looked to belong on a movie poster.

But Steve.

He was leaned against the bar, arms crossed over his broad chest, perfectly tailored dark green sport coat and black wool sweater, hugging his broad shoulders and trim waist like nobody’s business. His dark slacks were hanging on for dear life to those massive thighs, and his thick dark blond hair was tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it all day. You liked his hair cut short in the back with the length on top. There was still something to grab on to.

Damn him. It should be illegal for a man to look that fucking good, especially at this hour, with you already having had two glasses of champagne.…

You caught eye contact with Steve and your world spun for a second as you connected across the room. His eyes… God, his eyes.

Those steely blues were blazing with a heat that you could feel in your pussy, somehow containing a hunger that threatened to consume you. He stood up straight, and if you didn’ know any better, you would have thought that he flexed a little as he stared at you. Your pussy thought so, but your brain thought he wouldn’t try to hurt you like that.

He did, however, raise his glass to you and you couldn’t help but respond in kind.

You turned your attention to Bucky as he started to speak, and grabbed a bottle of water from a waiter, thinking you needed a clear head when you had to actually talk to Steve and not just acknowledge him from across the room.

"Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the Rebirth Art Foundation’s annual celebration of creativity and innovation in the arts. This is a gathering to honor six extraordinary artists whose talent, vision, and hard work have earned them a place among the most promising creators of our time….”

You watched your cousin who was totally enraptured by what Bucky was saying. You got a warm feeling as you saw what true love looked like. You smirked as you saw her make her way over to him as Nat stepped up to speak. You were so happy for your fam.

“Now Bucky Barnes is a snack. Wonder if he’s taken?”

You side eyed the hussy and then pointed at your cousin, who hadn’t made it to Bucky yet.

“I think that’s his wife or something right there.”

Sharon took a sip of her drink and wrinkled her nose.

“Ha! Nice joke. But I don’t think they go together, meaning they don’t match. Get it?”

You stared daggers at her. This bitch. Then you glanced at your cousin and her man again.

“You might want to tell him that, because he looks like he’s about to take her tonsils out with his tongue.”

Sharon’s mouth dropped open to see them making out in a corner. You couldn’t help but laugh as she shrugged, then brightened when Steve gained the mic.

“Never mind him. Steve Rogers is the entire meal. I have it on good authority that his dick is big.”

You looked from her to Steve, a sinking feeling in your stomach. Were you going to catch a case in New York City over a man that was not your man?

Or was he your man?

“Good evening, and welcome. It’s an honor to have you all here as we celebrate six incredible artists who are pushing the boundaries of what’s possible in the art world and are poised to change the entire world.”

Steve looked straight at you then, and you held his gaze for that fraction of a second as he raised his eyebrow as electricity zapped between you before his eyes continued around the room.

Sharon was forgotten momentarily and you bit your lip. Whew. You had to refrain from fanning yourself as he continued.

“At Rebirth, we believe that art is more than just a medium—it’s a force that connects us, challenges us, and shapes our future. This week, I encourage you to not only take in everything around you but also to share your unique perspectives. Creation, art, and collaboration are the soul of this foundation, and I’m excited to see what bonds form this week. Congratulations once again, and let’s make something amazing together!”

“Come on, now is the time to meet them. Maybe I can make something amazing with Steve Rogers tonight.”

You let yourself be dragged over to where the four were standing as Sam was finishing his welcome and you introduced yourself to each as you tried to listen to Sharon simping.

Each person smiled warmly at you, and Bucky pulled you in for a hug, which made Sharon side eye you both, but only for a moment as her attention turned to Steve.

“Mr. Rogers, I’m Sharon Carter. You know my Aunt Peggy.”

Steve blanched.

“Peggy? Your… Aunt?”

Sharon laughed, a little shrilly to your ears.

“Yes. She’s my mother’s half sister. Born to the second wife, 18 years younger than my mom. They weren’t that close. But Peggy and I are just like sisters.”

“Oh.”

Steve looked a little trapped.

“Didn’t know that. It’s a small world.”

Peggy leaned closer to him, but you heard her stage whisper.

“Don’t worry, I won’t share the secrets she told me…”

Steve looked at her like she was crazy and then looked at you, almost in panic. You could see the anxiety in his eyes, so you decided to rescue him.

“Mr. Rogers. Hi. ”

The huskiness of your voice, the way his name sounded on your tongue. It calmed him and sent a lightning bolt of desire through him. Steve wanted to hear you call him that in a very different context.

Steve’s face changed when he looked at you. He shifted toward you, much to Sharon’s chagrin.

“My name is Y/N Y/LN, and it’s so good to finally meet you. I hope that this is the start of a great partnership.”

Steve cocked his eyebrow at you and smiled as you took his hand. You initiating touch with him was the start of his wet dreams of late. His thumb stroked your hand as he held it.

“I hope so too, Ms. Y/LN. I’ve been meaning to talk to you…”

“Please, call me Peach, Mr. Rogers.”

Nat came around and distracted Sharon as Steve put his hand on the small of your back to guide you to the side of the bar to talk. His smell enveloped you and his touch had you walking carefully, because your knees were weak.

“What did you want to talk about Mr. Rogers?”

He shook his head, his eyes dark now.

“Call me Steve, Peach, please.”

His voice was rougher, and impossibly deeper as he begged, and it sent chills straight to your pussy. You cocked your head and he in turn licked his lips.

“Why?”

“Because if you keep calling me Mr. Rogers, I–”

He stopped and your lust-addled brain filled in the gaps. Your lips parted on a soft inhale. Steve, on the other hand, inhaled sharply.

And then exhaled slowly.

“How was your flight?”

Steve thought it best to talk of the mundane, because he was half a second from bending you over the bar in front of all these people.

“It was… great. I appreciated the business class seat.”

His eyebrow shot up.

“You got upgraded? How fortunate.”

“Ummmmhmmm. So you didn’t know?”

“Promise.”

Steve’s mouth quirked up in a half smile, because he knew you didn’t trust him, but you were so cute when you were grilling him.

“And you didn’t know about the upgrade at the hotel?”

“No…”

“I have a king suite with a killer view of the city.”

Steve grinned now and you almost shielded your eyes.

“Seems you’re lucky.”

You stared into his eyes to see if he was lying, but you didn’t see anything there but feelings you didn’t want to name. But because of your history, you still didn’t trust what he said. Nevertheless, you decided to let it go. There was something else you needed to know.

“So, who’s Peggy?”

Steve grimaced.

“She’s someone I knew a long time ago. We were close. Once. But not anymore.”

You just kept looking at him.

“She’s moved on, married to a rich guy on the west coast. And I’ve moved on as well.”

You straightened up as he gazed down at you. You didn’t know why you cared so much. And you didn’t want to analyze his last sentence.

“Oh.”

Now, Steve was smiling down at you like he thought you were jealous.

Which was absurd.

And he looked as if he was happy about that ridiculous idea.

You were right.

Steve was jumping for joy on the inside at the way you reacted to hearing about Peggy. He didn’t expect to think about her, much less have to explain her to you tonight, but if it led to you realizing you had feelings for him, he was glad of Sharon’s connection. And the way she ran her mouth, although it was annoying.

“You good, Peach?”

You weren’t good. You found yourself wanting to show Steve your suite, especially the ceiling, as you rode his cock on the king sized bed so as to make him forget about any other pussy ever existing. But you must have been tweaking.

You needed to get out of there.

You turned around and went to find your cousin.

“I’m great Mr. Rogers. You have a good night.”

And Steve was left watching you walk away again.

——

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viperify · 1 day ago

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𝗔𝗨 | ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ!ᴛᴏᴍ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Moonlight Cravings.

Short summary: Vampire!Tom has known he’d make you his ever since he first met you. When his need for your blood grows unbearably strong, he knows it’s time to finally make a move.

A/N: As I plan on writing more than just one full-length fic for my Vampire AU anyway and haven’t had the time to work on it yet, I thought I’d get started with a how-vampire!Tom-would-slowly-declare-his-presence-in-your-life drabble/fic.

wordcount: 1,0k

Tom’s presence looms over your life like a shadow. He seems to be wherever you go, and though he never pays you much attention, he still is there. Either casually leaning against the wall near the class you are attending next or accompanying his friends to the Three Broomsticks when you are there as well. Which is quite ironic, considering most people know Tom doesn’t even like butterbeer.

In fact, you are not quite sure if he likes anything really. Each time you share a class, Tom is mostly quiet, except for his witty remarks whenever professors ask questions. Even outside the classroom he doesn’t talk much, mostly found in the library with his head buried in books. Well, as long as you are in the library as well, that is.

You don’t think too much of it. It’s Tom Riddle, after all—naturally one of the most handsome men you have ever laid eyes on, but oh so unreachable. You vividly remember a girl back in your third year asking him to attend the Yule Ball with her. It was a decision she made against the advice of practically everyone she asked, and it ended exactly the same way you had told her it would. Things like these never end well with him, so you don’t even attempt questioning his behaviour—instead, you think you are utterly delusional for even assuming there could be anything between the two of you.

Tom, on the other hand, is entirely consumed by you. From the moment he first caught your unmistakably sweet scent, he knew he had to have you, his mind going blank every time you simply passed him in the corridors. It’s as if there is a force pulling him towards you, one that he can’t control, one that clouds his mind and strips him of any sane thoughts he had left. Taming his needs as a vampire has never been difficult. Not until he met you, that is.

And as soon as bouquets of your favourite flowers show up in your dorm every other week, accompanied with small gifts like your pralines of choice, you can’t help but wonder whether there was a chance Tom’s strange behaviour did have something to do with this. It’s these thoughts that keep you up at night and make you zone out in class. There is not much you can do except wonder who it is that admires you, but you sure have a guess.

During yet another restless night, you decide to get up and take a walk through the castle to calm your mind. The hallways are faintly illuminated by the moon’s glow, shining brightly as it completes yet another full circle around the earth. Although your steps are as quiet as they can possibly be, you soon feel the air shift around you, as though someone is watching you. But when you turn around, no one is there.

“You shouldn’t be wandering around the castle this late at night.” A voice coming from your right remarks, and you almost drop your wand, heart hammering wildly in your chest in response to the unexpected interruption. A tall figure emerges from behind a pillar then, and it takes you less than one second to figure out who it is. You had forgotten that Tom Riddle also happened to be a prefect.

It’s too dark to make out much of his face, but there is an undeniable red glow that flickers in his otherwise dark brown eyes. Before you can even process the thought, he blinks, and it’s gone. Instead, the corner of his mouth lifts just slightly as he takes in your startled expression, raising his eyebrow expectantly.

“I suppose I- I couldn’t sleep. You must know, walking helps to clear my mind.” You manage to get out, and although it isn’t a lie, your hesitation sure made it sound like one.

Tom huffs. “A selfish action that just cost your house ten points. Now, you surely wouldn’t mind me escorting you to your respective dormitories?”

You don’t try to argue—it is still Tom Riddle you’re dealing with after all. Instead, you respond with a small nod and retrace your steps with him by your side.

“What might your mind be troubled with?” he asks then, his voice cutting through the silence of the night. The question makes you tense slightly, your fingers curling tighter around your wand. It’s the first time he actively looks for a conversation, the first time his presence feels intended and real.

You take a breath, not exactly knowing what to respond. “Your seemingly seventh sense for my whereabouts“ doesn’t seem like an appropriate answer after all.

The upcoming exam season saves you from the awkwardness. Although he doesn’t seem to fully believe you, he lets it go, not speaking another word until you disappear behind your dormitory door.

But even then, you can’t seem to sleep, the image of the red glow in his eyes lingering in your mind. You know there is something you can connect it to, and soon, a memory of a Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson in your second year resurfaces.

Full moon. Pale skin. Red eyes. They all match, and yet you find it hard to believe. Vampires have been extinct for nearly 400 years in Great Britain, there was no real reason for you to think he could be one.

Right?

#im so excited to write more for this au!!!#im gonna try to be quick #just veeeery busy atm :((#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle vampire au #slytherin boys #slytherin #harry potter #vampire au #divider by strangergraphics #🦢⋆⭒˚.⋆my works

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grayskies2525 · 2 days ago

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Inevitable (male sneezing, contagion)

Just wanted to write something super self-indulgent with minimal plot.

CW: This fic includes detailed contagion! It’s gross and I spare no details — we’re talking snot strings and things of that nature. If you’re not into that, absolutely do NOT begin reading this or you’ll have a very unpleasant time. If you do, however, like contagion and messy sneezes, I hope you enjoy this 😊

Part one is just set up, but I plan to continue it with Evan spreading his germs everywhere (unintentionally).

***

Part One

It’s a sneeze — a single sneeze. A simple bodily function. There’s nothing intrinsically bad about a sneeze.

These words run through Evan’s mind as he picks at his cuticle while his eyes dart to the man across from him. The elevator’s been stuck for several minutes already and there’s an unease settling in Evan’s stomach as he looks at this man. They’d walked on together, smiling awkwardly the way two strangers tend to do. Then the man had immediately snapped forward in an uncovered sneeze.

It’s probably allergies.

This is a rational thought to have, Evan thought. It is March. There’s definitely pollen in March. But then the elevator got stuck and the man started letting out chest rattling coughs.

So he’s definitely sick. But maybe he’s not contagious? It could just be a lingering illness — one of those that hang on for weeks but are no longer as easily transmissible to other people.

“I’m sor — heh — sorry — HHHH! I woke up with an awful c—hh heh! — cuuhhhh hh — cold. HH hh hhhhh HH! I’ve been sneezing all — heeh hehhhh — day,” the man says in a trembling voice before reaching up to rub his reddened, swollen nose. It makes a horribly audible squelching sound.

Evan reaches for strength somewhere deep within to will himself not to wince as he stares at the man. Evan has seen him around the college before, and is pretty sure he’s an instructor, though he doesn’t know the subject he teaches. He has dark skin, looks to be in his early-mid thirties and most notably — he’s tall; Evan would estimate him to be somewhere around 6’5. He has a nice build — muscles visible through his tight long sleeved shirt. His silver eyebrow piercing glints under the elevator’s dim lights. On any other day, Evan would find him to be attractive — exceptionally so. It’s clear, however, that Evan is not seeing this man at his best.

“Oh, uh, it’s okay,” Evan says, sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. He would rather this guy didn’t talk — that he didn’t do anything that could result in more droplets entering the air they’re sharing. Can talking spread droplets? He imagines they probably can.

“I thought it was allergies yesterday, but I woke up today and I —” He breaks off coughing, holding a fist out weakly. Evan can hear the phlegm rattling around in the man’s chest, and again he has to suppress a wince.

“Sounds rough,” Evan says, giving a strained smile as he taps his fingers against his thigh. This elevator usually only stays stuck for a few minutes. He can last a few minutes without catching something off this man, surely. Maybe the germs from that first uncovered sneeze won't take.

“I probably shouldn’t have come in today,” the man says, shooting Evan a smile that would probably be charming if it weren’t for how tired it looks. “But I didn’t realize how bad this bug was going to be. I don’t think I’ve ever sneezed so much in my life,” he says, sniffling thickly. “And my nose is running non-stop. It’s a faucet. I’m not exaggerating —I’ve gone through an entire box of tissues already.”

With these words, Evan finds himself suddenly regretting his choice to go back to school for a second Bachelor’s. Yes, his creative writing degree has been practically useless for the six years he’s had it, and yes, he does want to pursue psychology and therefore needs to continue his education. But, right now, that all seems unimportant as he looks at the sniffling man, whose breaths are beginning to hitch again.

Maybe the sneezes are stuck? Like this damn elevator. Please, please, please stay stuck until I can get off this thing, he thinks to himself while digging his nails into his palm.

“I hate this elevator,” the man says, giving a nervous chuckle. Evan suppresses a groan as he realizes this man is clearly one of those people who are incapable of sitting —or in this case standing — in silence. “Breaks down almost every day. I don’t even know why I risk taking it, anymore,” he says, giving another thick, slurpy sniffle. By the way the man scrunches his nose and closes his eyes, Evan suspects the sniffle produced a particularly intense tickle.

“Yeah, I get stuck on it probably once a week,” Evan says, giving another strained smile.

“You’d think someone would do something about — heehhh —” The man trails off, his eyelids fluttering.

Evan can see the man’s glistening nostrils begin to flare.

“Do you — do you happen to have a ti — hih — tihih — tihiiiihhhissue?” the man asks, his voice shaking.

“A tissue? Sorry, wish I did, but no,” Evan says.

He truly does wish he had a tissue because this man’s going to sneeze. Not only is this man going to sneeze, it’s going to be a messy sneeze. Rarely does Evan know something with such certainty, but this is one of those times. This man’s sniffles aren’t the soft kind that can be taken care of with a soft blow. They’re desperate sniffles — the “holding back an entire tide of mucus” type.

It will be fine as long as this elevator starts up soon. He needs it to start back up soon, then he can walk off and go home and everything will be fine and —

“HhH—hHRGG’sschhHHHHEEW!!!”

Evan closes his eyes and holds his breath. He slowly opens his eyes, reluctant to see the inevitable aftermath of the absurdly loud and forceful sounding sneeze. Evan’s shoulders relax, though, as he sees the man lower his arm. He’d clearly managed to cover. There’s an obvious wet spot on the man’s sleeve, but still, it was contained. Evan lets himself breathe. That first, uncovered sneeze when they’d walked in must have been a fluke. This man is clearly polite and understands the value of keeping germs to himself.

Evan allows himself to smile sympathetically as he looks at the man and gives a polite “bless you.”

“Thanks,” the man says with another tired smile and thick sniffle. “Like I said — all day. I don’t think I’ve ever been sick like this. It’s just sneeze after sneeze. I’m sure my students must have been tired of blessing me. I can’t wait to just go home and sleep this thing off. If only this elevator would HH’REEHH’TSHOOO! HRR AHHHH-T’SHOOOO!”

Evan remembers seeing something on the news once about the amount of distance a sneeze can travel and how many droplets a single sneeze can potentially contain. It was something like 20 feet and thirty-thousand droplets. While this was distressing information, it hadn’t exactly been believable to Evan. People sneeze all the time. He sneezes everyday and it certainly doesn’t seem like sneezes can be that powerful. So, he’d frowned at the information, but ultimately moved on, mostly forgetting it.

This information now, however, crawls along back to the surface of Evan’s mind as the stranger blasts him with sneezes that can only be described as soaking wet.

They erupted from the man with absolutely no warning and through the harsh lighting of the elevator, Evan can nearly see each and every droplet — some fine, some large and clearly mixed with thick mucus. With only six feet between them — at best — Evan can now believe without any doubt that sneezes can, indeed, contain thirty-thousand droplets.

And he’s just been hit with two sneezes full of them — entirely unrestrained.

Evan wants to wipe himself off, but he doesn’t know how. Every exposed part of him has been doused in infectious spray — his neck, his hands, his face…. He decides he can at least wipe off his lips, so he finds a dry spot of his hand before bringing it up to his mouth.

The man’s head is still bent forward, which seems to be a poor decision because his nose is dripping terribly. Evan watches in something of a morbid type of fascination as the droplets hit the elevator floor before the stranger gives a thick sniff and looks back up at Evan.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his expression looking genuinely apologetic, though there’s also something about it that’s decidedly sneezy. His nostrils begin to flare again, but this time he brings a hand up before snapping forward.

“HrrRIIHHHGG’shuuuhhhh! HRR’EHHHTSHOOOO! IhhGT’SHOOOOO! MPFFX’TSHOOOO!”

Evan grimaces as the contents of the man’s nose pour out into the man’s hand in thick, visible strings. To the guy’s credit, he does try to contain it, but the sheer amount makes it impossible. He presses his hand firmly against his nose, but Evan can see moisture seeping through the cracks of his fingers. Evan is certain he's never come close to seeing someone lose control of the contents of their nose in such a dramatic way. Usually adults have a handle on containing the more unpleasant aspects head colds usually bring, but clearly this specific virus is a special case.

Evan averts his eyes because the situation is gross beyond description, but also, this must be the most mortifying moment of this stranger’s life and he doesn’t need someone staring at him.

Evan feels his own cheeks heat in embarrassment for the man.

Mostly, though, Evan is consumed by apprehension. There’s no possible way he can expect his body to fend off the innumerable germs that are surely trying to invade him right at this moment. Even if it could fight off some of them, there’s far too many to hope he can escape them all.

Evan is surprised to find a sort of peace in accepting this as fact. There’s nothing to be done now. He is coated in germ-infested spray, so he’s going to get sick. In the same way he can’t change how tall he is, he also can’t change this. In a few days time, he’s going to come down with this absolutely monstrous looking cold because it’s as inevitable as the sun rising in the morning.

Part 2

#i just had to play around with the 'germs in a small enclosed space' trope #cw: contagion #cw: mess #snz #snz kink #snzblr #snz fet

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cannibalisation · 16 hours ago

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authors note. + tw for mentions of rape.

i wanted to share my overall thoughts on fanfictions about/relating to Luigi Mangione.

in no way am i targeting any specific writers (i really don’t want to start any drama, this is just an analysis of my own findings.) but i am fully aware of how impactful words can be. not a person alive is immune to propaganda, and, that’s simply what words are.

with the writing i’ve done about him, i have been mindful to portray him in a way that is not at all abusive, toxic or even simply rape-y. i’m not trying to place myself at a higher moral ground for doing so or directly shaming anyone else in particular, i just think it’s disingenuous to view him in such a way and honestly? i don’t really think it helps his case in anyway.

also another thing that bothers me is that fics will often be tagged with things related to “uhc shooter” or “brian thompson”. this directly links luigi as the shooter, which isn’t something that should be done if you believe that he’s innocent/framed.

regardless of your personal views on the case, most can agree on the fact that luigi has been terribly treated in the press. i have made the decision to no longer apply myself to any further misinterpretations of who luigi is as a human being, and as a victim of public humiliation and abuse.

i do not think that it is inherently cruel to write fics of him but there are boundaries, boundaries that haven’t even been set because he’s quite literally incarcerated and silenced.

again, i am not trying to garner any sympathy from anyone, because it’s really just not the time and place but i have been subjected to multiple anon asks that have been unnecessarily rude and mean. i initially thought that it was some type of constructive criticism but the more asks that were sent showed that it was not the case. the anon was pretty clear in how much they disliked my depiction of luigi, and had some not so nice words about me and my writing. i’m not going to lie, it definitely has made me reflect on my actions.

i’m not going to respond to any of the asks on my blog, as it will only add more gas to the fire (or whatever that idiom is 🙄) i’m only human, words do get to me, so, i don’t really know what to do now, i will still be supporting luigi but, i don’t really know if writing fics for him is a good idea. his name needs to be voiced aloud, if writing fanfictions is loud enough then i will continue but right now i’m at a loss tbh

if anyone has similar feelings/thoughts and would like to share, my inbox is always open and safe + feel free to dm me :)

#luigi mangione #luigi is innocent #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione fic #luigi mangione x reader #yap central #my timbers were shivering when i pressed post

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lemony-snickers · 2 days ago

Note

Hiya Lem! Sorry if I’m too late~but hows about 17 and Kakashi for the Spotify wrapped fic game! Or if ya got too many Kashi’s, maybe Yugao! ~or anyone you feel fits the song best~ ❤︎₊ ⊹

17. fire - louis the child ft. evalyn.

only one late here is me. <3 also, never too many kakashis i did both! sort of! .

lookin' up, starlight; take me there, i wanna fly

Kakashi’s back is hard against Yugao’s as they face the closing circle of enemies, his voice a barely discernable growl as he barks orders from behind his broken mask. They are in the shit, and Yugao for the first time since taking her ANBU oath wonders if this may be the mission that prevents her from ever returning home.

She looks up, the pinpoints of stars dancing in her blurred vision overhead. She doesn’t have time to contemplate the concussion, though, because Kakashi springs forward and she must do the same if she wants to survive, to protect her teammates.

The battle is protracted and bloody. By the time Team Ro limps away, they are all battered and bruised. Ko’s ankle is broken and he leans against Tenzo who used some of the last of his strength to create a wooden crutch to help distribute the weight.

Yugao looks ahead. Their team leader is tense, Hound’s shoulders lifted almost to his ears. Kakashi’s silver hair is stained red and brown – new and old blood mixing with the shimmering strands, matting it to his scalp in places. She wonders how much is his, how much belongs to those he slayed, if any of it came from her own wounds.

In addition to an obvious head injury, she herself has sustained several lacerations and fears she may be bleeding internally, if the sickly grey bruise spreading over her abdomen is any indication. She won’t be able to see a skilled enough medic until they are back in Konoha, and so she grits her teeth against the pain and follows her Captain. When her eyes flutter closed a few short hours later, voices screaming her call sign, the faint beginning of panic bleeding into the edges of the syllables, the last thing she sees is the face of Hound blotting out the stars.

Yugao stares at Kakashi’s panicked half-face through his broken mask and tries to tell him it’s not his fault. She always knew her life in the corps would end this way.

but i’m miles off the ground; i’m leavin’ this whole match city to burn

The hospital lights are blinding, the itchy blankets too cloying and hot when she wakes. Yugao throws them away, but when she tries to stand, she wavers, suddenly dizzy; vision blurring in defiance of the too-bright lights. Adrenaline, insistent and overwhelming, courses through her quicker than common sense.

A firm hand grasps one arm, holds her steady. Her hearing is fuzzy at first, but then it clears like she’s coming up from underwater. “Stand down, Uzuki-san.”

Her eyes slide over to find Kakashi, wearing Konoha’s standard jonin uniform. It feels wrong to see him in the blue fatigues and flak vest. She can’t even remember the last time she’s seen anyone on her team out of their ANBU uniform. Sometimes it feels like they live more of their lives as their masked counterparts than as themselves.

Even though most of his face is covered, it still feels like an intrusion to see his right eye peaking out from over his mask. She’s used to Hound, not Kakashi Hatake.

She tries to shrug out of his grip, but Kakashi’s fingers only dig in harder, forcing her down until she’s sitting on the bed again. She curses, feeling the beginnings of another bruise. When he releases her, Yugao massages the place where his hand had been.

“I don’t think the medics would take kindly to you injuring a patient.”

“If that patient would stay in bed resting, I wouldn’t have to.”

Yugao scoffs lightly, but knows better than to challenge him further. Stories of Kakashi’s escapes from this very place are legendary and many. She has personally witnessed him scrambling from the window of a higher floor room, the voice of the Head Medic screaming its way into Konoha in his wake as Kakash rips an IV line from between his fingers.

She heard they started putting the lines in his feet so it would be more difficult for him to pull them out without drawing attention from the guard in his room.

Still, she supposes she is in no position to question her commander—standard uniform or no. Kakashi walks to the window and pushes it open.

“I expect you to report back as soon as you’re discharged,” is all he says before he disappears.

Yugao smirks. She knows he wouldn’t be here unless he cared about her well-being, despite his best efforts to conceal any concern. But every member of Team Ro has seen their Captain’s selflessness, the blows he takes so they won’t have to. He can’t hide his true nature from any of them, no matter how hard he tries.

long nights, it’s a lifestyle; so good to the last drop

Yugao wonders if there is some innate biology that prepares someone to be a great leader. Kakashi must have it, if so. She is in awe, watching him bark out orders not only to their squadron but countless others in the gathered crowd. Everyone listens. Everyone.

There is not a single person within hearing distance who does not sense he is the best person to direct the recovery efforts. Even if it’s outside the scope of Team Ro’s mission. Even if he is a foreign shinobi – none of that matters.

He oozes confidence; competence. His voice is clear, steady, and sharp; it makes people believe in him. It is why Yugao has always found it so easy to follow him into battle, even when the odds are precariously stacked in the enemy’s favor. Her chest flares with warmth for her Captain, for her luck in being assigned to his team.

By the time the dust clears, she knows the number of survivors would be more than half what it is had Kakashi not been here to direct the rescue teams.

She watches as he wanders off by himself, settles against a cold rock to open a rations pack and eat in solitude. She doesn’t approach him; knows how important the decompression space is after an emotionally tumultuous effort. She and Tenzo find themselves a place to sit together and do the same, talking quietly about the mission; everything that went wrong and how eager they are to return to Konoha. To take a hot bath and sleep in their own beds, no matter how uncomfortable their old mattresses are.

When she sneaks a glance back over at Kakashi, she sees he’s sitting with his head tilted back against the stone behind him. From the steady rise and fall of his chest, she thinks he might finally be catching a few precious moments of sleep.

Good, she thinks. He rarely truly rests during their team assignments, and she can see the toll it takes, even without seeing his face.

“Something I can help you with, Leopard?”

Yugao stiffens, not expecting his voice.

“No, sir,” she says, clearing her throat, “Just wondering what our next orders are.” She ignores Tenzo’s teasing glance, the soft huff of his breath as he allows a half-chuckle escape his mouth.

She’ll get him back for that later—as if he wasn’t staring at Kakashi, too. Though, she thinks, Tenzo’s reasons are very different from her own.

“We’ll move out in ten,” Kakashi says, standing, “so best finish your rations.”

Yugao nods quickly, stuffing the rest of the bar in her mouth before chasing it with a gulp of water from a canteen offered by Tenzo. She watches Kakashi’s back the entire way to Konoha, as she so often does, still wondering how he had known she was watching. Another enigmatic piece of her Captain’s puzzle—one she will likely never slot into place. No matter how many missions she runs with him, she does not think she’ll ever find enough pieces to construct a clear picture.

i'll watch it go down; ‘cause that sun gonna take me with it

Yugao can’t move. She feels as if she’s been buried beneath a ton of rocks, each one heavier than the last. Her face itches, eyes tearing no matter how hard she tries to stave off the sadness. The skin around them is red and raw, her lips chapped.

Hayate is gone. And she cannot bear it. Doesn’t want to.

Without him, she sees little reason to move. To eat or breathe or live.

Weak, her mind whispers, you are so weak.

There have been countless knocks at her apartment door, calls from friends and comrades asking to be let inside. They have food, they have flowers, they are checking on her.

Yugao doesn’t care. She wants nothing to do with any of it.

When she hears her bedroom window slide open, Yugao thinks maybe the enemy who killed Hayate has come for her, too. She closes her eyes, grateful for the opportunity to join him in the afterlife, for an end to this awful suffering.

“Get up.”

Her eyes snap open and there is Kakashi Hatake, staring down at her with one cool grey eye.

Her lip trembles, embarrassment lighting her nerves. She covers her face with her arms, an awful sob barreling from her mouth before she has the sense to stop it, to shove it down the way a good soldier should be able to.

Not him. Not her Captain. It doesn’t matter that Hound has not led Team Ro for years, Yugao still looks up to him. Still marvels at the grace with which he can adapt to any weapon, the efficacy with which he can devise a battle plan in any scenario.

Even the way he has taken three unruly genin under his wing, though rumor has it he is perhaps not as adept at leading children as he was Black Ops operatives.

Yugao’s crying seems to never end, ceaseless rivers of tears streaming from her eyes, lungs jolting until she hiccups pathetically.

She hears Kakashi sigh and assumes he will leave, that she is too pathetic and weak for him to help her.

Instead, she feels the mattress dip when he sits down a few minutes later, allows him to pry her arms away from her face as he lays a cool, damp towel over her eyes and forehead.

It feels nice, and her hiccups lessen and then eventually quiet, though a few errant tears continue to leak from the corners of her eyes no matter how hard she tries to staunch the flow.

“It never goes away,” Kakashi says quietly.

Yugao peels the washcloth off and looks at him, but his gaze is trained elsewhere, far across the room. Across time, she thinks, looking at something she will never see.

“You will carry him with you for the rest of your life, and it will be a burden.”

She tries to protest—Hayate could never be a burden to her—but Kakashi holds up his hand, fingers twisted into the mission signal for silence, and she is still good, she finds, at following orders.

When Kakashi turns to look at her, Yugao gasps. Because the fabric beneath his sharingan is damp with tears. His other eye bores into hers, intense and clear. “It will also be the greatest honor to keep him in your memory, and that is why you will get out of this bed and continue on.”

It doesn’t happen right away. Not that afternoon, or the next. But Kakashi keeps visiting, keeps prying her window open and handing her bowls of broth and eventually, Yugao pulls herself out from beneath her blankets and she returns to the world; heart heavier, but her purpose clearer than it has ever been.

i'm building a fire, fire, oh; i'm buildin’ it higher, higher, oh

This is something she can do. A way to avenge Hayate, to protect her home. To carry him with her and use the grief to make something better.

Cutting down Sound shinobi as they rampage through the streets of Konoha has suddenly become Yugao’s favorite thing in the world. She pours all the anger and love she ever felt for Hayate into each swing, as if every enemy she sees is the one who made that killing stroke. She is grateful for all he taught her, the strength she has now because of him.

She throws herself in front of a civilian, holds her armored forearm up to stop an enemy nin’s axe in its bid for flesh. The armor bends, cracking beneath the force, the edge of the blade biting into her skin.

Yugao only smirks. No wound can hurt as much as the one in her chest, the vacancy where Hayate should still be and isn’t.

Behind her mask, she grins. And when her enemy falls to her feet, throat opened like a smile, Yugao wonders if her Captain would be proud of the soldier she has become.

If Kakashi knows how much she learned from him.

Whether Hayate is watching her from somewhere far away, complaining under his breath about her sloppy footwork as she sidesteps one attack and parries another.

She hopes so.

There will be time for such questions later. For now, she has more important things to attend to. Because, though she knows she may one day find herself in a battle she cannot win, she also knows that today, battling for her village in its heart—her teammates scattered around her doing the same—is not a fight she will allows herself to lose.

and if i go down in flames; the smoke gonna spell my name

#spotify wrapped fic-o-rama #lemony scribbles #kakashi hatake #yugao uzuki #yamato tenzo #anbu!kakashi #team ro #team ro fanfiction #kakashi fanfiction #yugao fanfiction #angst #tw violence #tw death #tw injury

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scary-grace · 2 days ago

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Enough to Go By (Chapter 23) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22

Chapter 23

“Good news,” the doctor says, and you look up from the compound you’re mixing at your station. “Shigaraki is tolerating the procedure much better than I expected. I can only assume it’s thanks to your quirk, and because of how well he’s handling it, we can add another quirk to the mix.”

You’re not sure how you feel about that. “What about the neural load?”

“With just one more, it won’t be a problem,” the doctor says. “All For One carries many quirks, and as Shigaraki will be the next him, it’s in our interests to get him used to it.”

That phrasing is never not going to be weird to you – Tomura not as All For One’s successor, but as the next All For One. “Okay,” you say. You know already that the doctor won’t change his mind. “Which quirk?”

“You’re familiar with our collection of quirk factors, and you know Shigaraki Tomura better than I do,” the doctor says. “Why don’t you choose?”

What would be useful to Tomura? What would he want? You think about it for a moment, try to think about situations Tomura’s found himself in where the lack of a certain quirk has frustrated him. Between the League’s quirks and the collection Tomura’s already receiving from the doctor, there’s really only one gap that you can see. “Does that Nomu’s Warp quirk work on the Nomu itself?”

“Mm — yes,” the doctor for says after a moment. “All For One has used it to travel, when it was in his possession. It would make sense for the next him to have it as well.”

The next him. There’s that phrasing. Again. The doctor is frowning. “Don’t you think he’d want something flashier?”

“Decay is flashy enough,” you say. When you think of the doctor’s quirk collection, you can’t think of anything that matches Tomura’s ability to level a city with the touch of his hand. “He should have something useful. Warp is useful, and it’s not something his opponents will be able to access, even if they do have Kurogiri.”

“Yes, Kurogiri. Has your contact made any progress in figuring out where he’s being held?”

“He’s in Tartarus,” you say. “That’s where they all are.”

All For One, Moonfish, Muscular, Overhaul, and Stain. Mustard is there too, which you find appalling — he’s underage, just like Toga, and neither of them belong in maximum security under 24-hour guard. You’ve heard things about the conditions inside the prison, and they’re awful. If you needed more reasons to win the war to come, you can add Tartarus to the list — you don’t want you or anyone else to wind up inside.

The doctor nods brusquely. “When Shigaraki liberates All For One, remind him to grab Kurogiri as well, won’t you?” Then, as an afterthought: “Overhaul, too. That quirk –”

“It’s gone,” you say. “Tomura Decayed one of his arms, and Compress –”

Something clicks in your head. You take out your phone and call Compress, ignoring the doctor’s complaints. Compress answers. “Yes?”

“Do you still have Overhaul’s arm?” you ask, and the doctor’s complaining abruptly cuts off. Compress answers in the affirmative. “What condition is it in?”

“Pristine condition, given that I haven’t released it — other than that unfortunate instance with your coffee table,” Compress says. “Why?”

“Keep it like that. We might need it later,” you say. You thank Compress, hang up, and turn to the doctor again. “We have one of Overhaul’s arms, preserved at the point it was removed from his body. Will that work?”

“Yes,” the doctor says, startled.

“Good.” You’re not sure how Tomura will feel about getting Overhaul’s quirk, and that’s the least of your worries. “Won’t that be too many quirks? If we’re already adding Warp –”

“Oh, Overhaul isn’t for Shigaraki,” the doctor says. “It’s for you.”

You stare at him in horror. “You’ve been very insistent in your role as the team’s medic,” the doctor says. “With your quirk, at the moment, you’re only useful to Shigaraki. With the Overhaul quirk, you could heal your other comrades’ injuries with ease.”

He’s right. With Overhaul’s quirk you’d be beyond effective as a medic. You already have the anatomy knowledge you’d need to use it. But you don’t want any part of what Tomura’s been going through., and when the doctor looks at you, he reads it all over your face. “We’d wait until Shigaraki possesses All For One, of course,” he says. “That would make the transfer painless. And we’d transfer a copy, to avoid any personality contamination.”

“Personality contamination?” you repeat, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“You’re familiar with the way that transplanted hearts carry the characteristics of their original owners. It’s the same for quirk factors,” the doctor says. “With a copied quirk, the level of influence is significantly lower. So there really is no reason for you to refuse to take on Overhaul’s quirk at all.”

Something about that pulls a thread in the background of your mind. It bothers you, but not as much as the idea of taking on Overhaul’s quirk in the first place. “That quirk killed one of our friends. The rest of the League won’t want me to have it.”

“The same quirk brought your friend back, didn't it? I’m sure you can convince them,” the doctor says. “In any case, if you’re certain that Warp will suit Shigaraki best —“

“I am.”

“We’ll begin preparing the transfer,” the doctor says. “How are the bullets coming?”

“I think I’ve fixed the problem,” you say. “I’m ready to run another test.”

“Excellent. We’ll run it now.”

When you test the bullets, you test them on clones of the doctor. It was his idea, not yours — to ensure the bullets are working, you need a quirk that switches off visibly, and the doctor’s clones aging decades in a heartbeat is as good of a tell as it gets. In your last trial run with the bullets, you shut off the quirk factor successfully, but tests confirmed that it began to repair itself almost at once. This time you’ve woven in another quirk — Petrification, which allows the user to paralyze any part of another person once they’ve touched them. The wielder, whoever they were, likely used it for full-body paralysis, but you’ve been tinkering with it, narrowing it down. You think you’ve created a compound that isolates and nullifies the victim’s quirk, and with Petrification added in, you can make the change permanent.

You think you’ve made the change permanent, and according to the tests the doctor runs on the double you just stabbed with one of the needle-tipped bullets, you’re right. “Excellent work,” the doctor says. “I would have come to this conclusion alone, obviously, but it’s much faster with two. All For One will be very pleased, even once he discovers how you lied to him.”

“I didn’t know I had a quirk.”

“I was there,” the doctor says. “You may not have lied knowingly about your quirk, but you certainly concealed the fact that you knew Shigaraki Tomura before his quirk awakened. If you had revealed that, All For One would have removed you.”

You knew that, sort of. Tomura definitely knew. “Still,” the doctor says, almost reflectively, “I suppose it worked out in the end. If All For One had removed you, he would have missed out on the benefits of your quirk.”

Your quirk benefits Tomura, not All For One. Tomura, and only Tomura. If that wasn’t the case, the doctor wouldn’t be talking about giving Overhaul’s quirk to you. The thread pulls a little tighter in the back of your mind, but the doctor cuts the thought off with an instruction before you can follow it. “Start production of the bullets. I’ll prepare Warp for transfer, and we’ll begin this afternoon. Things are moving along very nicely. After this, all that’s left is Super-Regeneration — and of course, All For One.”

The thread pulls tight, then snaps. It’s a good thing the doctor’s already left the room. If he hadn’t, the pure horror that’s rattling your entire body would have given everything away in a heartbeat.

You must be wrong. You have to be wrong. You’re desperate to be wrong — but as you pull the pieces together, you realize that the truth has been there the entire time, and it’s just as terrible as you first thought. Stolen or transferred quirks carry imprints of the original wielder’s personality. The effect can be reduced by transferring a copy, but the doctor is making sure Tomura gets the original All For One. Copies were good enough for the other quirks, but not that one. All this time, you’ve heard the way the doctor refers to Tomura and assumed that he meant to describe Tomura as All For One’s successor. But he’s never said successor, or heir. He always says it the exact same way — Tomura will be the next him.

All For One never meant for Tomura to inherit his role. He plans to transplant his original quirk to Tomura and steal Tomura’s body for himself.

The realization crashes down on you so hard that you nearly black out, but you drop your head between your knees and force yourself to breathe. Passing out won’t save Tomura. If you want to save him, you have to think. You have to make a plan. But planning right now feels like an impossibility. Doing anything feels like an impossibility, because you’re still you. Functionally quirkless. All but defenseless even with a clip of quirk-canceling bullets in your gun. Easily dismissed and easily overlooked and the last person anyone would ever suspect of doing anything to subvert Tomura’s — and theoretically All For One’s — plans.

You take slow, deep breaths, trying to slow down your thought process to match. The doctor doesn’t know what he just told you. He doesn’t know that you’ve put the pieces together, and even if he did, he wouldn’t think for a second that you’d try to stop it. After all, he’s watched you stand by as he tortured Tomura for the past three months, even allowing yourself to be pulled in to help him do it. If you didn’t blink at that, why would you blink at this? You’re loyal to Tomura’s vision, which the doctor thinks is the same vision as All For One’s. You’d never dream of crossing him.

Except you’re not loyal to All For One’s plans, or even Tomura’s plans. You told Spinner when he asked, the same way as you told yourself when you set off down this path — you’re loyal to Tomura, to Tenko, and no one else. That loyalty means you’ll cross him sometimes. It means that you’ll foil his plans if you have to. In this case, it means that you’ll stop him from receiving All For One.

Even as the thought comes to you, you know it’s impossible. You could beat the doctor in a fight, you’re pretty sure — his quirk extends his lifespan at the cost of his physical strength and speed, and when it comes to protecting Tomura, you’re basically insane — but he has Nomus on his side, and if you blow your cover and lose, it’s over. So you can’t take All For One out of the equation. Tomura will wind up with the quirk no matter what.

He’ll wind up with the quirk, but there’s no reason for him to wind up with the original. If you make sure he’s given a copy instead —

The plan clicks into place and the instant it does, the urge to enact it becomes overpowering. You grit your teeth, trying to ignore the buzzing in your limbs, the panic that floods your system with adrenaline and makes your hands shake. You can’t do anything right now. You don’t need to do anything right now. Warp is being transferred this afternoon. All For One is next, and Super-Regeneration last. You have time to figure out how to make sure the quirk factor the doctor transplants into Tomura isn’t the same one he took from Tomura’s master. In the meantime, you need to make sure the doctor doesn’t suspect you. If he suspects you, he’ll lock you out of the process in a heartbeat.

He told you to work on the bullets. You still need the bullets. You clench your hands into fists, ordering them to stop shaking, and when they don’t, you lose patience with yourself and go fumbling through one of the supply cabinets in the lab for a scalpel.

You remember promising Tenko that you’d stop — or maybe just swearing that you didn’t do it anymore — and the times he’s seen you naked since you started again have been few enough and far enough between to allow the injuries to heal. You’ll have all the time in the world for the three lines that you carve into your hip to fade, and by the time you’ve wiped the blood away and taped down a sterile pad and disposed of the scalpel at the bottom of a sharps container, you’re calm again. You know what you need to do. You won’t let this happen to Tenko. You can save him. You will.

Making the bullets is time-consuming. By the time the doctor comes back from tending to the Nomus he’s cooking up, you’ve only made three. Three, to go with the five Tomura and the others stole from Overhaul — and while you’ve been working on it, you’ve added a twist to your plan. The doctor peers over your shoulder at your progress, then goes to the window to observe Tomura. “We’ll let him rest a little longer before we transplant Warp. I’m hungry. Go and bring me some food from the cafeteria — and some for yourself as well. You look terrible.”

You’ve been hearing that a lot lately. It’s apparently a good thing your costume includes a veil. As much as it irks you to act like the doctor’s servant, you need him in a good mood, so you change into a set of scrubs and head to the cafeteria, blending in easily with the other staff members. This is the kind of place you might have worked one day, if nothing had changed, if you hadn’t found Tenko again. You were proud of working at the clinic, but you’d have been proud to work in a hospital, too. A hospital would have paid better, had better benefits, and depending on the specialty you were in, maybe better hours. The kind of things you’d have needed if you ever wanted to start a family.

You don’t think about things like that anymore. You hop in line at the cafeteria, order what the doctor likes and something you know you won’t do more than pick at, and make your way back down to the lab, willing your hands not to shake, willing your breath to stay even. You deliver the food to the doctor, and then, rather than retreat like you usually do, you sit down at the far end of his workspace. The doctor raises his eyebrows. “Can I help you?”

“Sir, I had a question for you,” you say. Sir never hurts with men of a certain age, and since you’ve used it before, the doctor won’t smell a rat to hear you use it again. “All For One — the quirk — it’s instantaneous, right? The target’s quirk is gone as soon as All For One touches them and decides to take it.”

“Yes,” the doctor says. “Why do you ask?”

“The compound in the bullets I’m making isn’t that fast,” you say. “It’s quick, but if the person who was shot acted quickly enough, they could counter-strike before their quirk was destroyed. So I was wondering if — um — I know it’s the most important quirk you have, but –”

You play up nervousness, anxiousness, a desire to please. The kind of thing the doctor expects to see from a devoted servant, one who’d die for her master. The doctor smiles kindly, or condescendingly. From him, they look the same. “You’re wondering if you can have a copy of All For One for your experiments?”

You nod. “The compound in the bullets works now, but I’d like to make it even better. I want to help Tomura as much as I can.”

The last part is true, at least. “You’ve asked nicely, and you’ve been quite diligent,” the doctor says. “Of course you can have a copy. I believe there are three or four in storage, and of course Mocha can make more if needed.”

“He remembers how?” you ask. “He’s made a lot of copies recently.”

“Of course, but you may wish to jog his memory,” the doctor says. “The original is stored in the repository, the same as the others. Show it to him and he’ll replicate it again. But do try to be judicious with your work, dear. Waste not, want not.”

“Yes, sir,” you say at once. The doctor tilts his head, studying you. “Sir? What is it?”

“You don’t look well,” he says abruptly. “At this proximity, maintaining Shigaraki’s increased healing factor shouldn’t strain you.”

“I’m not — strained,” you say at once. “Just tired. Uh — and hungry.”

“You aren’t eating.”

“I was nervous to ask you about All For One,” you confess. That’s not a lie, either. You look down at your bowl, feeling tears spring to your eyes. “I don’t want to let Tomura down. I’ve been trying as hard as I can –”

All true. “But I’m worried it won’t be good enough,” you continue. “What if it’s not enough, and something happens because of me, and he –”

“Well, you can at least be assured that you won’t live to see it,” the doctor says. “Your quirk will bleed you dry to keep him alive. But we’ll render that unnecessary all too soon. Once Super-Regeneration is transplanted and combined with the effects of your quick, Shigaraki’s transformation into the second coming of All For One will be assured.”

That’s a new phrasing. He hasn’t used that one before. For a second you wonder if you’re wrong — but then as you sniffle over your bowl of cafeteria ramen and the doctor passes you a handkerchief, you decide that it doesn’t matter if you’re wrong or right. With the course of action you’re planning to take, Tomura will get All For One’s quirk no matter what. All you’re going to do is remove any chance that he’ll get All For One’s soul along with it.

The transplantation of Warp goes as well as it could. The sound of Tomura’s screams rings in your ears almost constantly, and every time a procedure ends and you’re left to care for him before he returns to stasis, you’re terrified that he won’t forgive you for your part in it. But it’s not just that he forgives you — it’s that he doesn’t seem to blame you in the first place. “It was my idea, not yours,” he mumbles, when the words blur their way out of your mouth. “Just stay here.”

“Of course,” you say, like always. The hole in his stomach’s closed now — he can eat and drink, although the only thing you’ve been able to get him to accept is a few sips of water. He wouldn’t even drink it at first. It took you dabbing a wet cloth across his lips for him to open his mouth. “You’re almost done after this. Two more and then it’s over.”

Tomura nods. His eyes are closed. “When it’s over,” he starts, then grimaces. You raise the cup of water to his lips again and he takes it from you with a shaky hand, drains it, sets it aside. “Over here. There’s room.”

You look askance at him. “On the operating table?” There’s not room by any stretch of the imagination. “Tomura –”

He shakes his head. “Not Tomura.”

“Tenko.” You lower your voice. “Will you eat something if I sit with you?”

“Why don’t you want to –”

“I do. I just want you to eat something, too.” You study him, wondering what’s going through his head, hoping he’ll agree. After a long moment, he nods. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

You end up sitting towards the end of the operating table, Tenko’s legs propped up in your lap as he picks at a plate of food. His muscles are stiff — you could tell when he lifted his legs up to stretch them across your lap — so you massage them gently, trying to work the knots out. Tenko relaxes by degrees. “What did I get today?” he asks after a while.

“You’re doing really well, so the doctor told me to pick an extra quirk for you. I chose Warp.”

“Warp?” Tenko’s mouth curves into a smile. “Bad call. Now I can come get you whenever I want.”

“If you think I don’t want to be with you all the time, you haven’t been paying attention.” You wish you were sitting closer to him, or that the plate wasn’t in the way. You want to hold him closer than this. “You were saying something earlier, about when this is over. When it’s over, what do you want to do?”

“Win. Fast.” Tenko picks at the food you brought him. “Before that I want to do stuff. With you.”

“Like, sex stuff?” You’re having a hard time thinking of stuff the two of you haven’t already done that doesn’t start to veer into kinks. The two of you haven’t talked about kinks. “Sure. I’m not sure what kind of stuff you’re thinking about, but we can probably –”

Tenko’s kneed you lightly in the stomach. “What was that for?”

“Not sex stuff.” Tenko peels one eye open and catches the look you’re giving him. “Not just sex stuff. Other stuff. Date stuff.”

“We’ve gone on dates,” you remind him. “Two of them.”

“Those aren’t real dates,” Tenko says. Ouch. “Where we go somewhere and do something. Like a movie. Or the arcade –”

“That kind of date,” you say. Your heart sinks a little bit. “I don’t know if there’s anywhere we can do that where it would be safe.”

“The PLF has other towns. Not just the one we fought in. We can go there.” Tenko’s plate is empty. He sets it aside. “And stay there, after.”

“After the date?” you ask. Tenko shakes his head but doesn’t explain. “After — oh.”

After he wins. After the old world ends, in the new one. You’ve known Tenko was thinking about it, known that some of what you’ve said has taken hold, but aside from jokes about things he wants to ban — cats have been added to the list that already contains heroes, hate groups, and bras — he hasn’t said anything concrete about what he wants it to be like. Except this. Except that he wants to have somewhere to live, and he wants you to live there with him.

And none of that will happen if you can’t stop All For One from stealing his body. “Okay,” you say to Tenko. “We might have to go on multiple dates, then. So we can decide which one we like best. I should warn you, though — I suck at arcade games.”

“I don’t care about that.” Tenko reaches for you, catches you around the waist and pulls you awkwardly in until you’re sprawled against him. It’s not comfortable, but he’s doing his level best to get comfortable anyway. “I’m good enough for both of us.”

“I know.” You’ve believed him every time he said that, ever since you were kids. He’s promised he could do it, whatever it was, for both of you, and you’ve never doubted him. You’re not doubting him now. But at the same time, you know that what needs to happen now is something only you can do. You need to do it for both of you. “Ten?”

He’s falling asleep. His grip on you is loosening even as he tries to wrap you around him. “Yeah?”

“I love you,” you say. “You know that, right?”

He nods. “Always knew,” he mumbles. His next words are slurred, almost incomprehensible. “Same here.”

You’re still sitting with Tomura when the doctor comes back in. He takes one look at you both and rolls his eyes. “Get up. The sooner we put him into stasis, the sooner we can transplant All For One.”

The doctor usually sends you back once Tomura’s in stasis, but that can’t happen this time. You untangle yourself from Tomura’s arms carefully, giving yourself time to phrase the question. “Can I stay for a little while once he’s under?”

“This again? You already know –”

“Not to sit with him,” you interrupt as carefully as possible. “I want to work on the bullets a little more. I promise I’ll stay out of the way. I won’t get underfoot.”

“You haven’t been underfoot,” the doctor says. “A bit sentimental, perhaps, but you’ve made yourself quite useful. You can stay, but you’ll have to stay overnight. Johnny will need a break after this next trip.”

“Which trip?”

“I want you to retrieve Overhaul’s arm,” the doctor says. “While I’m sure Compress has it safely stored, it’ll be better preserved here.”

You nod. Another stupid idea is churning in the back of your mind, but you shove it away. One crazy idea at once is the most you can handle. You tell yourself that, but your mouth has different ideas. “I can preserve it once it’s here, sir. If that would help.”

“That will be very helpful indeed,” the doctor says, smiling. “If you were worried that All For One would be unforgiving of your lie, Saintess, I’d cease to worry about it. He rewards loyal service generously.”

You nod, and close your eyes as the taste of warp sludge fills your mouth. One thing at a time. One plan. One course of action. Nothing else you do will matter if you can’t use your perceived loyalty to All For One to stop him from destroying Tomura.

Spinner and Re-Destro pounce the instant you get back, but then Hawks puts in an appearance, and Spinner detours to run interference while you run to find Compress. You badly need to talk to Spinner — you have to warn him what All For One is trying to do — but you can’t with Hawks sniffing around. Spinner doesn’t come to find you until you’ve already packaged Overhaul’s severed arm for transport, when you’re in the act of calling the doctor to tell him to bring you back. “You’re not staying? I thought he was going into stasis –”

“He is. This is something else.” You try to think of what to tell Spinner, what he’ll need to know if you’re caught and taken out of the picture. There isn’t much, now that you think about it. Even if the doctor catches you, it’ll already be too late. “Listen. If anything happens to me, go to Jaku hospital. Down below. That’s where the doctor is, and the Nomus –”

“What do you mean, if something happens to you?” Spinner’s eyes widen. “Is something going to happen to you? What’s going on?”

“There’s not time. Just — if I’m not back, go there. Don’t leave Tomura there –”

You break off, coughing. Warp sludge is filling your throat. “Don’t leave him. Remind him –”

“About what?”

“Who he is.” It’s the only hint you can give. Then warp sludge chokes off your voice, and when it clears, you’re alone in the darkness beneath Jaku hospital once more.

You wait through the rest of the day. Into the night. You make the doctor hover over you as you work to extract and preserve Overhaul’s quirk factor, taking up so much time that he’s glad to leave you alone when it’s done. As soon as he’s gone, you get moving. You’re familiar with the organization of the quirk database by now, and you go straight for All For One. One original quirk, and three copies. Or so you think.

You’re pretty sure the doctor doesn’t suspect you, but if you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t trust anybody when it came to preserving Tomura’s plans. You set the original quirk factor on its glass slide on the workbench and study it for a moment. It doesn’t look like much — just three full layers of skin, peeled from the palms of All For One’s hands. Your stomach twists when you think about how agonizing it must have been to remove. All For One’s palms have holes in the center of them. You don’t remember that from the hand that closed over your face the first time you came here, but you had other things on your mind.

You set the original aside, then line up the copies alongside it. “Mocha-chan,” you say, and the Nomu appears at your side. “I need a copy of the original quirk.”

Mocha makes it for you, and you affix it onto a new slide, peeling the label off of the original and adding it to complete the picture. Then you tuck it back into the archive in the proper spot and slide it shut.

Next, you pick up a scalpel, and you start with the copies, dragging the blade of the scalpel firmly across each one. You’re not pressing hard enough to cut through the layers of skin completely, but as you test each copy, they collapse into sludge when the pressure grows too firm. You destroy each one, then turn your attention to the quirk labeled as the original. Time to find out if the doctor’s even slightly suspicious of you. If he is, there’s no way he’ll have left the original All For One quirk factor within your reach. You wouldn’t.

You cut into the peeled-away palm of All For One’s hand, biting deep enough to cut through it entirely, but it doesn’t collapse. You cut into it again, amputating the thumb, but the integrity of the quirk factor remains intact. So the doctor does trust you, then. Your heart is racing, and in spite of the fact that you have the proof you need, you continue to cut, slicing All For One’s quirk to ribbons. And when that’s done, when you’re surrounded by nothing but slivers of skin, you drop the slide to the floor and crush it under your heel.

It doesn’t feel like enough. You want to stomp on it harder, and after a second, you do. You sweep the rest of the slides off the workbench, too, shattering them, and add them to the pile of crushed glass on the ground. You imagine it’s All For One’s face that you’re stepping on, that you’re obliterating what’s left of his features with strike after strike, finishing a job that All Might couldn’t. You aren’t like Tenko. You don’t blame All Might for everything, even if you do see the flaws in heroic society, even if you do believe that the world would be better off if everything about it changed. But you do blame All Might for one thing, one thing that’s unforgivable — failing to save Tenko. If All Might had truly beaten All For One, he would never have stolen your best friend away.

It feels hypocritical to blame All Might when you failed Tenko, too, but you were just a little kid. You weren’t the one who took responsibility for saving everyone. What you’ve taken responsibility for is this — not preventing All For One from being passed to Tenko, but making sure that the piece of his master’s soul gets is as weak as possible. It’s all you can do. It’ll have to be enough, and you tell yourself that it is, that it will be. A shadow of All For One isn’t nothing, but you’re not afraid of it. If you’re by Tenko’s side, you can help him keep it at bay. And maybe if your next plan pans out —

But this plan isn’t finished yet. One thing at a time. You turn to the Nomu again. It’s been watching you silently, its eyes blank and staring. “I’m going to clean this up, you say, gesturing to the glass on the ground. The Nomu says nothing. “I need three more copies of All For One.”

The Nomu makes them for you, and you slide them into the database alongside the copy you’re passing off as the original. Then you get to work sweeping away the glass, sponging away the piles of sludge and scraps of skin, concealing the evidence of what you’ve done. There’s a weird feeling of unease in the pit of your stomach.

At first you can’t figure out what it is. But the further away you get from the destruction of All For One’s original quirk, the clearer it becomes. You’ve lied, you’ve stolen, you’ve been an accessory to kidnappings and murders. You’ve used an illegal weapon and killed someone with it. You’ve been complicit in illegal human experimentation. All of that is more than enough to put you within Kazuo’s parameters. But what you’ve just done feels different. It feels like something you can’t come back from, something that’s subverted All For One’s plans directly, something he or the doctor would happily kill you for. You took the trust the doctor had in you and twisted it into a weapon, manipulated and flattered and pretended yourself into a position to ruin everything, and then you did it without thinking twice.

You know you did the right thing. You aren’t sorry about it. You’d do it again in a heartbeat. But you can’t shake the thought that of everything you’ve done since Tenko came back into your life, this is the one that makes you feel more like a villain than anything else.

<- Chapter 22

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x you #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #tenko shimura x reader #tenko shimura x you #shimura tenko x reader #shimura tenko x you #x reader #reader insert #please hold #man door hand hook car door

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fandomgirlz01 · 3 days ago

Text

The Most Perfect Christmas Ever

JJ Maybank X Routledge Reader

Imagine on fandom instagram?: No

Prompt or Request or Requested Prompt?: Yes: (1) "Cute Christmas socks." (2) "Are you going to stay out there in the cold all night?" (3) "Come here. I bet you can fit in my coat with me and it’ll warm you up." (4) "Is that my scarf?" (5) "Be careful you’re clumsy and it’s really slippery out here." (6) "Ah. The ground is so slippy.!” (7) "Call me elf one more time!" (8) "Chaos has come again." (9) "Christmas is doing a little something extra for someone." (10) "Come here. I bet you can fit in my coat with me and it’ll warm you up." (11) "Everything I want I can’t have." (12) "Here. Let me pick you up so you can reach the top of the Christmas tree." (13) "How long ago did (Character) fall asleep?" (14) "I believe the Abominable Snowman may be real. I think there may be something in that." (15) "I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold."

Style of Writing: Single Fic

Rating: PG ~ For all the fluff and cuteness, but a few adult comments…

Edited: Yes

Word count: 6,648

Post Date & Time: Originally posted: December 25th 2024 at 1:45 AM Reposted: January 23rd 2025 at 10:57 PM

Ko-fi

Masterlist

Warnings Here

Listen to the story be read out loud here {coming soon}.

Summary: You, your brother John B and JJ (Jackson Jessy "Maybank" Groff) spend another Christmas together, your first Christmas without your father after he’d gone missing. This Christmas however is different than all the others that the three of you have spent together.

Authors Note: I got these amazing prompts from a fellow writers page @bonniebird Bonnie is an inspiration to me as well as an amazing writer and artist. I did change some of them up so they fit the story better, but I did try to keep them pretty close to the original prompts. Anyway, Bonnie’s work never fails to make me smile and feel all the feelings that I should when reading. I WISH I could write as amazingly as she does, but I’m nowhere near her level yet, I hope and pray that one day I will be. Ladies and gentlemen please go give her love and support because she really deserves it. She’s one of my many inspirations and I’m so so happy to use her prompts because they really pushed me to write this fic even though I was blocked for all of my other works. I feel like it helped me break out of it, so THANK YOU Bonnie for everything 🩵🩵🩵

Also this is our first JJ Maybank fic. We have so much coming out for JJ he will eventually be added into our main people we write for so be on the look out for when we add that in. We both hope you guys enjoy this one. 🩵

You hum softly to yourself along with the Christmas music you have playing as you lay out the decorations. Every Christmas, you, John B, your dad, and JJ would enjoy Christmas together. When you were growing up and found out what JJ’s dad did to him (you didn’t tell them of course, because that’s JJ’s place to tell people about it), you begged for JJ to start spending the holidays with you. Ever since that very first time they agreed, he’s always come over. It’s always been your absolute favorite time of year. How could it not be? When you have JJ and John B around you, your two favorite people? This year is different though, because it’s the first Christmas without your father since he had disappeared only a few months ago now.

“Hey. Wow. You’ve really got everything ready,” John B comments in shock as he looks at everything you’ve laid out so far.

“It’s Christmas, JB, of course I’ve got everything ready. Don’t I always?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him and shrugging.

“I can’t believe it’s Christmas Eve and we’re only now decorating…” you shake your head and he chuckles.

“I know normally you have it all started the last week of November,” he comments, amusement clear in his tone.

“I know right! I’m so behind. This year has been a lot… it’s been one stressful year…” you mutter out with a roll of your eyes and he again hums in amusement as you bite your lip.

“Hey. I get it. It definitely has been wild,” John B agrees and you sigh.

“It’s just… it’s the first one without dad. We should still celebrate, be happy to still all be together right?” You ask, unsure of your own words.

“Of course, bug. I’m sure we’ll enjoy it,” he tells you as he stops you for a moment to pull you into a hug.

“Plus, I’ll have my two favorite guys with me. I’m happy and I refuse to not be happy during my favorite time of year,” you push away from the hug as you ramble while continuing to lay stuff out, not bothering to spare a look at your brother.

“Hey. I get it. I do. No need to preach it to me, bug,” he reverently tells you, giving you a small shrug.

You continue to lay ornaments and many other decorations out on the table. You step back to look at your handiwork, proud of how it looks. You get pulled out of your thoughts when your brother laughs, making you look at him instead.

“What?” You ask him, eyebrow propped and he points down at your feet.

"Cute Christmas socks," he tells you though chuckles and you look down at them, pushing up onto your toes.

“Oh, really? Good, I got both you and JJ a pair of your own,” you inform him with a giant grin and his face falls.

“There’s no way JJ will be wearing those…” he tells you and you giggle.

“Who says! They’re cute!” You cry out and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Sorry to tell ya, bee, JJ doesn’t do cute,” he tells you with humor lacing his tone.

“Fine. You’ll wear them though, right?” You ask, giving him puppy dog eyes.

“Not a chance. Puppy eyes don’t work on me anymore, bee,” he tells you and you smirk even though he’s not looking at you.

“Really? Then why won’t you look at me, huh?” You teasingly ask and he huffs.

“No reason. No reason at all. Speaking of your two favorite people, where's the other?” John B asks with a hint of humor, changing the subject as he picks up an ornament to look at before carefully setting it back down.

“Actually, he was supposed to be here about thirty minutes ago…” you comment as you finally look up at the clock.

“Don’t worry, bug. It’s JJ, I’m sure he’s just running late,” John B tries to comfort you, but you shake your head, rushing over to start putting your jacket on.

“Exactly. It’s JJ. He’s never late this time of year. He loves having Christmas with us,” you comment as you shove your feet into your shoes.

“Bug? What are you doing?” John B rushes over to you and you shrug as you stand while zipping up your jacket.

“I’m going to look for him. What if he needs us?” You counter as you wrap a scarf around your neck and John B sighs.

“I’m coming with you then,” he informs you as he grabs his own jacket.

You give him a look of exasperation before shaking your head once more. You pull the door open before starting down the porch, but John B pulls you to a stop. You go to yell at him, but he raises his hands in surrender before pointing over at something and you turn to look where he's pointing. You see JJ sitting curled up on the dock and you sigh in relief.

“You go talk to him. I’ll finish setting up, okay?” John B offers and you smile softly at him.

“Don’t you wanna go over?” You ask, popping an eyebrow at him and he pauses with lips pursed in thought.

“No. It looks more like a you and him moment,” John B answers with a small soft smile.

“Okay. If you’re sure, birdy,” you tell him, giving a side eye to see if he changes his mind.

When he doesn’t show any signs of changing his mind, you firmly nod at him before starting to walk over to JJ as John B heads back inside. It’s a cold night so you bring your cupped hands up to your mouth and breathe into them, hoping to warm yourself up a little. Once your hands have warmed up, you move them under your armpits, trying to keep them that way as you move closer and closer to JJ.

“Jayj…” you call out softly and you can see your breath in the air.

“Hi, cupcake…” he mutters, not looking at you which makes you frown.

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” You ask as you sit next to him, your feet dangling over the side of the dock.

“JJ, talk to me…” you mutter out when he doesn’t answer. You move to cuddle into his side, but he uses his shoulder to shove you off, still keeping his face out of view.

“JJ. Seriously, what’s wrong?” You ask as you grab his shoulder, trying to pull him to look at you even though you already have an idea about what’s going on.

“Just leave me alone, cupcake. Please?” he practically begs, still turned away from you and you frown even harder.

“Jayj, please…” you whisper out to him once again and he sighs, finally turning to you, not liking the hurt in your voice.

“Oh, JJ…” you gasp when you see his face full of black and blue bruises. You had a feeling that it’d be about his dad, but you had no clue it’d be this bad.

“See, that’s why…” he mutters, looking away from you once more.

“I don’t want you pitying me again… you do it far too often,” he mutters after you haven’t said anything.

“I don’t pity you, JJ. If anything I think it makes you incredibly strong…” you tell him with a firmness to your tone and he feels himself getting choked up.

“Yeah… whatever…” he responds, not believing you as he shoves you off again.

“I’m really sorry, JJ…” you mutter softly, not knowing what else to say to get him to believe you. You frown with a shake of your head as tears well up in your eyes.

“What do you have to be sorry for? You didn’t do this…” JJ asks as he still refuses to look at you and you reach out for him again.

“I’m sorry you have to go through this. I’m sorry you got dealt such a bad hand in life. I wish… I wish I could force Luke to see you. To actually see you,” you explain as you're finally able to pull him to look at you. He wishes he could wipe your frown off but only smiles softly at you.

“It’s not so bad. I’ve got you and John B. It could be worse I guess,” he tells you with a shrug as he looks away again and out to the water.

“I mean, you are right. Having us is pretty awesome,” you agree playfully, bouncing your eyebrows and he chuckles to himself, shaking his head. You smile, seeing his tough exterior finally starting to break down.

“It really is,” he softly agrees as he still looks out over the water and you hold back a sigh.

“Well, are you going to stay out here in the cold all night and stew in what happened? Or are you going to come in and have fun with your favorite person?” You goad him while nudging him with your shoulder.

“Oh, John B’s my favorite person now, huh?” he playfully asks, his own lips forming a bit bigger of a smirk now and you gasp.

“Umm, no. I was actually talking about myself,” you respond with a deadpan look that makes him smile even more as he laughs, shaking his head.

“What makes you think you’re my favorite person?” he asks you, all smiles now and you can’t help but smile alongside him.

“It made you smile, didn’t it?” You answer him with a shrug and he’s shaking his head in disbelief again.

“Yeah… yeah. It did,” he chuckles, continuing to smile softly at you.

"Well come on, then, let's get inside. We have a tree to decorate still and many other Christmas festivities,” you tell him with a beaming smile as you go to get up, but he reaches out and stops you.

“Can we maybe just stay here for a moment more?” he mutters out and you blink at him for a moment.

“Yeah, of course, Jayj…” you softly tell him and he smiles a small smile at you.

The two of you sit in silence for a little while before JJ, who's not wearing a coat, starts to shake a little bit."Come here. I bet you can fit in my coat with me and it’ll warm you up," You tell him as you hold your coat open to him.

“Thanks, cupcake,” he mutters as he slides in under your arm and you smile warmly at him.

“Of course, Jayj. It’s us against the world,” you whisper to him as you bring your pinky up and he smiles again before bringing his up as well, wrapping it around yours.

“Us against the world, cupcake,” he agrees and you sigh, laying your head against his that now lays on your shoulder.

“Hey, is this my scarf?” he asks after a while of silence as he lifts one of the sides of the scarf up.

“Umm. Yeah, I think it’s the one you left here last year. I found it in my winter clothes. You can have it back if you want,” you answer with your cheeks burning hot and you try to hide your face.

“Nah. Keep it. It’s a better fit on you than me,” he tells you softly and again you can’t help but blush.

He says nothing else after that, just cuddles back into your shoulder and you squeeze his shoulder. The two of you stay sitting there, cuddling while looking out over the water in silence and just enjoying each other’s presence.

“Hey, tweedledee and tweedledum, are you two going to stay out there all night and make me decorate alone? Or are you going to come be of some help?”John B calls out for the two of you from the edge of the dock and you both roll your eyes.

“Well, you ready to go in?” You ask him and he smiles at you before nodding.

“Yeah, let’s go,” he agrees before pulling away and the two of you start to stand.

"Be careful cupcake, you’re clumsy and it’s really slippery out here,” JJ tells you as he stands up and you cross your arms.

“I’m not that clumsy!” You fight back and he hums in amusement.

“Okay. I’ll believe that when you're not tripping over thin air,” he jokes back with a smirk and you scowl at him.

“Whatever…” you tell him as you roll your eyes before turning and taking a step to head back to the house.

You let out a small gasp as you start to fall back, but JJ, knowing you well, was already reacting and quickly pulling you back up. You stare at him in shock for a moment before you slowly start to smile, making him smile too.

"You were right. The ground really is so slippery,” You joke, eyes wide in shock and he playfully rolls his eyes at you.

“Never change, cupcake. You’re truly one of a kind,” JJ tells you with a grin that’s utterly infectious.

“Only if you promise never to change yourself, Jayj. You’re one of a kind too,” you request and he nods in agreement.

You both stare at one another for a moment, your eyes staring into the blue pools that are his eyes that you’ve come to love so much over the years and you have a burning need to kiss him. You can feel his heart going what seems to be a mile a minute as he watches your eyes flicker down to his lips and back up to his eyes, his eyes doing the same. He squeezes your waist gently with a million thoughts of how your lips might taste flying though his mind. He wishes he could just kiss the adorable frown off your face, but he knows he can’t, making him frown too. You frown even deeper before opening your mouth to ask him why he’s frowning, but before you get the chance, you get cut off.

“Hey! Would you two stop making eyes at each other and come help me decorate!” John B calls out again, interrupting the moment and you almost groan.

“Thanks for catching me, Jayj,” you whisper out and something flashes through his eyes for a moment, an emotion you can’t quite decipher before he grins again, letting you go.

“I’ll always catch you, cupcake,” he promises with a light smile before the two of you start to walk over to John B.

You slip a little bit more, but you reach out and grab onto JJ’s arm. He looks down at you and chuckles as you cling to him like a koala bear, making him chuckle.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you to the end of the dock safely,” he promises with a laugh as he laces his fingers through yours and continues to walk over to John B.

"Chaos has come again, man!” JJ announces as you and he walk into the château before he’s letting go of you to walk over to John B.

“Don’t think that’s a good thing, man,” John B deadpans and you fight back a giggle as JJ pulls back from the guy hug they share, looking offended.

“Fine then, I take it back. You’re definitely not my favorite person. It’s cupcake,” JJ says as he pulls you into him from behind.

“Oh, so now I’m your favorite,” you ask, crossing your arms and giving a faux annoyed look.

“Let’s be completely honest, bee, I think you always have been even when he lies outta his butt and says you aren't,” John B comments with a roll of his eyes as he picks up an ornament and hangs it on the tree.

“It’s disgusting sometimes, really,” John B continues with a fake gag as he hangs the ornament up on the tree.

“Ohh, I wanna do the angel!” You happily call out, clapping your hands and John B chuckles.

“Don’t you always do it? This year’s no different, Bee. It’s your one job,” John B comments in amusement, making you pout.

“It’s not my only job! I have others,” you fight back and JJ chuckles, slinging his arm around your shoulder.

“Yeah, JB, her other job is lookin pretty,” JJ comments as he hugs you into his side and you fight a blush as you groan, pushing him away.

“I extremely dislike both of you,” you comment, crossing your arms with a look of dismay falling on your face and they both grin.

“That’s not true. You LOVE us,” both of them singsong to you and you uncross your arms, shaking your head.

“Okay, maybe I do, but let’s get this show on the road,” you finally cave and agree with them before walking over to start decorating the tree some more.

“Okay, miss head elf,” JJ jokes with a roll of his eyes and John B laughs.

“Oh, that’s a good one, Jayj. She really is a snappy head elf this time of year, isn’t she?” John B agrees before pushing the joke a little further and you pause, crossing your arms again.

"Call me elf one more time!" You seeth out through clenched teeth and they share a look.

“Awe, come on, elfie. It’s a cute Christmas nickname, that’s all. Plus you're the perfect height for it,” JJ tells you again, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he squeezes you affectionately and you huff, shaking your head.

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s get decorating already…” you tell them in annoyance and JJ snickers along with John B.

Together you, JJ and John B all dance around and decorate, making you completely forget about everything that’s been going on the past few months. For a moment it’s just you and your two favorite people living happily with nothing and nobody to take it away from you. You’d give anything to live every single day like this. You walk away, still laughing at something JJ had said and walk back in with the scissors. You stop and fondly watch as John B and JJ fight over who gets to put an ornament on a certain branch. Blue Christmas by Elvis starts to play and without realizing it, you start to cry.

“You okay there cupcake?” JJ asks as he turns around to see you crying and worry flows through him.

“I’m okay, Jayj…” you tell him softly with a gentle smile on your face as you set the scissors on the table.

“Then why the tears?” John B asks and you giggle, wiping at your eyes.

“I just wish we could all live like this everyday. Just us three having the times of our lives with nothing to worry about,” you start, pausing to catch your breath a little and sniffle.

“Both Kie and Pope have their parents. I’m happy to just have you two,” you explain, more tears welling up in your eyes and JJ clicks his tongue, coming over to give you a hug.

“I’m happy we have each other too, Bee, but unfortunately we can’t have it everyday. There’s always going to be good and bad days,” John B agrees with you as he too comes over to hug you.

“I know, I just wish it could be that way,” you sigh out and JJ squeezes you once more.

“I think we all do, cupcake. Let’s just try to live in this moment then, yeah? Enjoy the time we have,” he asks and you grin up at him.

“Yeah, okay,” you agree and he smiles, happy to see you back to your happy-go-lucky self.

You gasp as the song’s lyrics perfectly fit the moment. “But I’ll have a blue, blue, blue, blue Christmas without you,” you sing along to Elvis as you sway and JJ shakes his head, but smiles as he watches you enjoy the music.

“Perfect timing, much?” he jokes, propping an eyebrow and making both you and John B burst out laughing.

“Yeah… definitely don’t quit your day job, bug,” John B jokes and you shrug, seemingly unfazed by his playful insult.

“And what day job would that be, birdy? Hunting for gold?” You playfully ask back, sticking your tongue out at him.

“Okay. Okay… you win,” he chuckles, holding his hands up in surrender.

“I always win,” you say in a devious tone with an equally devious look.

“Don’t I always win, Jay?” You ask, turning to JJ who looks between you and John B in a panic for a moment.

“Sorry, JB. I have to say she is definitely a winner in my book,” JJ tells both of you and you let out a cheer, pumping your fist in the air.

“Eat it, birdy!” You cheer out as you do a little dance.

“So not fair! JJ’s only on your side because he’s crushing hard. Let’s bring Sarah in as a tie breaker,” John B complains and you pause your dance, crossing your arms as you prop an eyebrow at him.

“How would that break the tie? One, Sarah would choose me too, and second, that’d only make it tied even more if she did choose you,” you comment very pointedly and he shrugs, sticking his tongue out.

“At least it’d be more fair. Again, JJ only chose you because he’s crushing on you,” John B repeats and you shake your head.

“And Sarah is so crushing on you,” you point out and JJ lets out an “ooooohhh”, making you laugh.

“She got you there, JB,” JJ comments with an infectious smirk.

“Okay birdy, you win. I take it as a compliment that my favorite person is crushing on me though,” you happily reply, leaving a kiss on JJ’s cheek and he blushes before awkwardly clearing his throat.

“Okay. Okay. Enough fighting, you two. I think it’s time to put the angel up, right?” JJ cuts in, only wanting to change the subject as he holds the angel up for you.

“Yeah, okay.” You agree as you take the angel from him.

You look down at the angel in your hands, the angel you and your mom had picked out together when you were five. You don’t remember much of her, John B does because he’d been a little older (he’d been seven) when she left, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt when you think about how she just left the three of you behind. John B and your dad had told you so much about her that sometimes she felt like a phantom to you, like someone that was there for a second, someone you knew so well, then gone the very next. Tears well up in your eyes and you look up at John B. He immediately knows what you’re thinking and lets out a sigh, sad for you as always; he always felt sad you couldn’t fully remember her like he could.

“I know, bug. I miss mom too,” John B sympathizes with you and you wipe under your eyes as JJ squeezes your shoulder.

“I just wish I’d gotten to actually know her a little more,” you mutter and JJ pulls you into a hug, knowing that’s the only sure way to comfort you.

“Here, cupcake. Let me pick you up so you can reach the top of the Christmas tree.” JJ tells you after pulling away from the hug and he bends down before slipping his head between your legs lifting you as he stands.

“You better not drop me, Jayj!” You squeak out before giggling hysterically as you’re now sitting on his shoulders, one hand in his hair, the other holding the angel and he stands straight.

“I would never dream of it, cupcake,” he sweetly tells you as he holds you a little tighter to make it known he definitely won’t drop you.

You grin as you put the angel on the tree before looking down to see JJ looking up at you. You nod at him and he bends to let you down slowly. Once you have both feet on the ground, he stands up straight next to you. You smile at him before suddenly you're letting out a gasp, pushing JJ away just the slightest but in your excitement.

“What? What’s wrong?” JJ asks with immediate worry as he looks at John B for help, but John B just shrugs.

“It’s If Everyday Was Like Christmas, my favorite Elvis Christmas song,” you happily explain and JJ lets out a sigh of relief, shaking his head.

“We should have known,” John B playfully rolls his eyes.

“Oh, we really should have, dude. She is an old soul,” JJ agrees and he chuckles as you start to sway again just as you had with Blue Christmas and JJ shakes his head again as you hold a hand out for him.

“What?” JJ asks with an arched eyebrow and you grin, making his heart melt at seeing you so happy.

"I want to dance with you. Come on. Dance with me, Jayj,” you beg, holding your hand out to him more insistently.

“Okay, but you should know I’m not a good slow dancer, sweetheart,” he informs you as he takes your hand in his and you smile as you help him get into position.

“It’s okay, J. Just sway with me. We don’t have to be all that fancy, we’re Pogues, remember? Not kooks,” you remind him and he laughs as he sways with you.

“P4L. Never a kook,” JJ happily agrees, proud that you feel the same way he does.

You lay your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and his leans against yours. He looks at John B for a moment over your shoulder, who seems to be watching the two of you fondly. John B then surprises him by putting his hands up in surrender before leaving the room and JJ melts against you a little more.

When If Everyday Was Like Christmas ends, both of you slowly come to a stop and you lift your head from his shoulder to look at him. You smile softly and again there’s a moment where you lock eyes. His bright brilliant blue eyes shining with happiness and another emotion that makes you think you might just kiss, but just like all the other moments over the years where you’d been close, John B walks back into the room.

“And what’s going on here?” John B asks, ever the overprotective brother that he is and you roll your eyes.

“Nothing, birdy. Are we watching Die Hard or not?” You change the subject as you push away from JJ and he tries not to frown at the missing feeling of your body heat.

“Not. I thought we could open a gift or two,” John B tells you and you arch an eyebrow at him.

“I thought we all agreed on no gifts this year?” You ask and John B shrugs.

"I’d be down. I know we said no presents this year, but I wanted to get you both something special to show you how much I appreciate you, so I did…" JJ admits with a shrug and John B grins.

“My gifts really aren't much. Just one to open tonight and tomorrow for each of us. All have super special meanings, that’s all,” John B informs you and you grin, shaking your head.

“Well, I really can’t say much. I did the same thing,” you admit with a giggle when they both give you a shocked look.

“Bee! It was your idea!” John B cries out and you smile sheepishly.

“Oops,” you shrug, feigning innocence. "Christmas is doing a little something extra for someone else, right?” You ask with a lopsided grin and John B lets out a chortle, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I mean, she’s not wrong, dude,” JJ happily chirps out and you smirk, bouncing your eyebrows.

“I’m never wrong, Jayj,” you joke, poking his side and he scoffs.

“Okay. Yeah, whatever you want to believe, cupcake,” he humors you as he rubs at the spot where you’d poked him.

After opening gifts, you’d all decided to watch the movie so you cuddle up next to JJ and John B sits in a chair off to the side. As the movie plays, JJ lays behind you with his strong arm wrapped around your waist like normal, and anytime he laughs you feel the warm air from his mouth over your neck, making goosebumps rise on your arms. You fight the whole movie not to fall even more in love with him and the way he holds you, but just like any other time the two of you cuddle, you do.

“Well, I’m beat. I’m going to bed,” John B announces as he slaps his hands down on the arms of the chair and pushes himself up.

“Goodnight, JB,” you call out as he walks toward his room and he turns around.

“Goodnight, bumblebee. Sleep tight,” he replies with a soft smile your way.

“So cupcake, you heading to bed, too?” JJ asks and you look up at him.

“I’m not really tired. I might go lay in the hammock for a little while,” you inform him and he nods, letting go of your waist.

“You could come join me if you want, but you definitely don’t have to,” you tell him, biting at your lip, nervous he might say no and he chuckles.

“And skip out on our special hammock time?” he asks like he is offended and he smiles when you perk up.

“Really?” You ask in excitement and he smiles even more.

“Really, cupcake. I love our hammock time. Let’s go,” he promises softly as he pushes up off the couch and grabs the blanket the two of you always use.

He then turns to you and looks down at you sitting up before reaching a hand out to you. You smile almost shyly as you slip your hand into his and he pulls you up from the couch. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and together you walk out of the château. You both walk down the stairs and over to the hammocks.

“After you, princess,” JJ tells you as he bows like a butler would and you giggle.

“Why, thank you. You're a very kind Prince, you know that?” You ask him as he lays down with you now and he holds his arm up for you to cuddle up to his side.

“Well it’s easy to be kind to a princess like you,” he tells you and you roll your eyes at his flirtiness as he uses his other hand to put the blanket over the two of you.

You giggle as he struggles to lay the blanket out evenly over the two of you and you reach out to grab the other side, pulling it over yourself. You both finally relax and he squeezes you softly as the two of you look up to watch the very prominent stars in the sky.

“Can I tell you a secret, cupcake?” he whispers out to you after a few minutes as he uses his fingers to rub your arm.

“Of course, Jayj… you can tell me anything. You know that,” you promise as you cuddle into his side even more.

"I believe the Abominable Snowman may be real... I think there may be something in that," he whispers and you slowly grin, turning to smile at him.

“You might actually be right… I mean, who’s to say he’s not real?” You ask and he chuckles, loving the fact that you just agree with him.

“I think I may have everything I want right here right now,” you whisper out as you cuddle back down into him with a hum of contentment.

"Everything I want I can’t have,” he admits and you frown, pushing up to look at him again.

“What do you mean? You don’t have everything you want? What else could you want?” You ask with a frown, sad that he could possibly not be as happy as you thought he was.

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before letting them open once more. His blue eyes stare into yours and you almost lose yourself in them.

“You,” he whispers almost nervously and you’ve never seen JJ at his nervous before as you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Jayj. You have me. I’m not sure why you think you don’t,” you tell him in confusion and he huffs in anger, but not in anger at you. No, he’d never be angry at you, but he is angry you're not getting it.

“No, princess. You don’t get it… I want us to be… uggh,” he groans out, reaching up to rub at his chest and your eyebrow furrows even more as you reach up, moving his hand before rubbing his chest for him.

“Jay. Just calm down and tell me. It’s okay… you want us to be…” you prompt him to continue on as he seems to calm a little more.

“Okay… uhh… I want us to be more than friends, and I know Pogues don’t Mack on Pogues, but I’ve wanted to be so much more with you for years…” he admits, hesitation clear as he refuses to look at you for the second time that night and you just smile.

“Jayj… look at me, please…” you whisper out and it takes him a moment, but soon he does.

"It was always you, through everything it was always you, Jayj. Nobody else,” you whisper again with a grin growing on your face as you watch him slowly realize exactly what you’d said.

“Wait… really? But wait… what?” he asks in confusion and you giggle.

"I'd always choose you, Jayj.” You softly promise and nuzzle into his chest bashfully and he chuckles, bringing his hand up to your head to massage at your scalp.

“I’d always choose you too, Princess,” JJ promises just as softly as he leaves a kiss to your forehead.

“You missed…” you tell him with a confident grin as you sit up to look at him and he chuckles again, shaking his head.

“Oh, my bad. Let’s see if I can fix my mistake then,” he jokes right back with his own smile growing.

Before you know it, his hand trails from your hair and to your neck, lightly pulling you to him while tilting your head ever so slightly. He moves slowly and treats you so gently, making the butterflies erupt even more in your stomach. There’s a thick anticipation that falls over you with how slowly you move closer together, but it’s the kind of anticipation you really don’t want to end. Finally his lips meet yours in a firm yet delicate and maybe a little desperate kiss. You are a little surprised, thinking it would have been a little more heated with knowing how JJ is, but the delicacy of which he kisses you proves to you just how much he’s wanted this.

He worries if he makes it any more heated like he normally does with other girls, he’d ruin this whole moment and he really doesn’t want to lose you. You're the most important girl out of all the ones he’s ever been with, so if he messes it up he’s scared he might lose you all together. You take a leap and kiss him a little harder, surprising him for the smallest of moments, but he smirks into the kiss before reciprocating it even more. You smile into the now heated kiss as you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck and play with the hair at the nip of his neck, making him groan. You then maneuver a little more so now instead of laying side by side you lay on top of him and he squeezes your waist after his hands move from your neck.

Slowly you pull away, breaking the kiss almost unwillingly and he chases your lips, giving them another peck and you giggle. He then leans his forehead against yours and you grin wide as both of your heavy breaths mingle together.

“Wow…” you whisper, biting your lip and he grins at you.

“Definitely wow. I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time,” he admits and you grin as you use your thumb to trace his lips.

“I know it may be early, but I love you, Jayj. You’re my favorite Christmas gift,” you tell him as you scoot down and lay your head on his chest.

“It’s not early at all, princess. I think we’ve loved each other for a while now. We’ve just been too scared to tell each other,” he tells you as he kisses your head and pulls you even closer then before.

“Oh, and you're my favorite gift too, sweet girl. I love you,” JJ adds on and you sigh happily.

“Merry Christmas, Jayj…” you mutter out as tiredness takes over your body.

“Merry Christmas, cupcake,” JJ parrots you again, squeezing you a little closer.

It’s a little while later and JJ smiles when he realizes your breathing has evened out, meaning you’re happily asleep in his arms. He yawns, but refuses to fall asleep quite yet, just wanting to enjoy having what he thought he never could.

"How long ago did bug fall asleep?" he hears a whisper, making him look up at John B.

“Only a little while ago. She’ll probably sleep in a lot more than the last few years. I thought you went to bed?” JJ whispers, not wanting to wake you as you sleep soundly on his chest.

“I did, but I knew you two would come out here and I wanted to check to make sure you're all good before I actually fall asleep,” John B whispers back and JJ smiles a thankful smile at him.

“Thanks, man. We’re good,” JJ tells him and John B nods, pausing to watch your sleeping face.

“You take care of her, you hear me, JJ? You break her and best friends or not, I will break you,” John B says in a serious whisper and JJ’s eyes widen for a moment.

“Don’t worry, dude. I don’t plan to and if it ever does happen, I’d break myself before you even get the chance,” JJ whispers honestly and John B smiles at his best friend.

“I know, but now that the two of you got wise and got together, I still need to make it known. I’m her big brother first and foremost,” John B informs him with a shrug and a happy smile at seeing his sister happy, as well as safe and sound in his best friend's arms.

“Goodnight, JJ. Sleep well, buddy,” John B tells him before turning and starting back to the château.

“Night, man. You sleep well too,” JJ tells him in a happy whisper as he nuzzles into your hair.

John B knows without a doubt that JJ is good for his little sister and you are for JJ too. He’s so happy the two of you have finally confessed and made it official. He’s had to watch the two of you pine for one another for years and it was painful sometimes because he cares for both of you so much. First and foremost though, as he’d told JJ, you are and will always be his first thought. It’s just a big brother thing to protect his little sister.

JJ watches until John B makes it into the château before deciding to hold you close for a little while longer. Before he knows it, your soft, even breathing lulls him into his own slumber and his eyes close, but even in his sleep he holds you close, never ever wanting this Christmas to end; the most perfect Christmas ever for the both of you.

The End…

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