#I actually wanna try making a series like this over patreon :o

[gotchibam]

Commissioned piece for rainyyjayy!

[thecleverdame]

TTWDBI - Eight

Part Eight - Deceit

Masterlist

Summary: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader - Sam is young, powerful and comes from one of the wealthiest families in New York. When he meets an Omega bartender who’s far from what his family expects, Sam is forced to make a series of hard choices.

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, smut, knotting, breeding, dominance, ownership, angst, family drama. This chapter contains an attempted sexual assault, actual physical assault, and talk of past abuse.

Words: 6.5k

Beta: @ilikaicalie -

Part Nine is currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content.  >> CLICK HERE <<

-

“Where are we going?” You peek out of the walk-in closet. “I need a few details. I don’t know what to pack.”

“Just pack everything.” Sam’s distracted, staring down his iPad with a stylus between his teeth.

“Winter everything or warm weather everything?” You slink out into the bedroom. “Come on, just a hint. Just tell me...are we staying in the state or are we going somewhere more exotic.”

“Nope.” He quips, marking notes on the digital screen.

“How long are we staying? Are we driving or flying?” You persist.

He perks up a little, actually making eye contact with a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Pack enough for a week, a dress or two, something warm. A bathing suit, well, on second thought you won’t need the suit…”

“You’re awful.” You laugh, as he nips at you.

It’s been a month since Jake and things between you and Sam couldn’t be better. The last four weeks have been wonderfully uneventful and it’s given you the time to enjoy each other. In fact, you’ve discovered that the more you’re around each other, the deeper your love grows. Fate must have known what it was doing when it brought you together.

“Bring that black thing with all the lace, the one piece. I love your ass in that.”

“Maybe.” You smile, pulling the aforementioned neglige from the hanger and carefully folding it into the suitcase. “How many bags can I bring with me?”

“As many as you want we’re taking my dad’s plane so you can - fuck!”

“Aha!” You jump back out of the closet, to find Sam shaking his head, glaring at you. “We’re taking a plane somewhere. Out of the state? Out of the country?”

“You think you’re so slick.” He puts down the iPad and stands up, moving toward you. “You’re just going to have wait until tomorrow.”

“Come on!” You whine. “I wanna know.”

“I’m not saying another word, I might give something else away. I’ve kept it secret this long. I’m not letting you trip me up at the finish line. My lips are sealed.”

He pulls to you him, one hand around your waist, fingers curling around your back as his thumb trails over the scar on your neck.

“I’m excited.” You whisper, eyes fluttering at his touch. “I haven’t traveled much. I always wanted to, Donna and I were going to backpack through Ireland but neither of us ever had the money.”

“I’m gonna take you everywhere.” He murmurs, leans down for a light kiss. “Just wait.”

Prague, Czech Republic

The city is like a rich noir novel come to life. It’s a taste of the old world, with its decadent buildings and thick, hanging fog. It’s like living in a Bela Lugosi movie. You’ve been here for three days, with five more to go. A whole week in a place you didn’t know you loved until the plane landed and you stepped out into this strange new land.

It’s well after sunset as you walk arm-in-arm with Sam over the cobblestones.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, hot breath puffing out into the frigid night air. He places a gloved hand over yours.

“Starving.” You smile, picking up the pace.

Dinner is a five-course meal in a candlelit tavern that looks like a medieval alehouse, complete with walls of stone and soft music playing the background.  It’s a small place, only a few other couples cuddle around the aging wood tables giving the illusion of privacy. You might as well be the only ones here as you get lost in Sam, and food, and the otherworldly surroundings.

By the time the sorbet arrives you’re both so full, you can only manage a taste before sitting back, grinning like a fool. Sam looks just as happy, he’s had a smile plastered across his face since you left New York and this broad, unadulterated joy looks good on him.

“I can’t believe this is my life.” You giggle, reaching across the table, laying your hand over his.

“You like it here?” He doesn’t need to ask, he knows he picked well. He’s watched you discover art and architecture and European cuisine. He knew you had deeper interests, a desire to see more than your previous life afforded but in this place, you’re blossoming.

“It’s not just the city, it’s being here with you. Everything just feels right.” You blink back tears. “I’ve never been able to breathe without something looming over me. I just feel so free. I love you so much.”

If it’s even possible his smile widens, dimpled cheeks rounding out.

“I love you, too.” He squeezes your fingers. “What’s been your favorite thing so far?”

“St. Vitus Cathedral at night.” You answer without even thinking about it. “I’ve never felt anything like that before, it was overwhelming and...emotional. Is that weird?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I felt the same way when I saw it for the first time. I was visiting my mom and we came here. I was eight or nine and I stood there for an hour, transfixed. We should go back. We can go tonight.”

“Really?” You confirm. “I’d love that.”

“No better time than the present.”

After dinner, you wander through the city. It’s chilly but tolerable as you stroll for the better part of an hour, talking about nothing and walking arm in arm as a fat moon rises high in the night sky.

St. Vitus rises in front of you like an architectural beacon, lighting up the night like a gothic fairy tale.

“I never wanna leave.” You whisper, feeling both of Sam’s arms wrap around you from behind.

“What do you love so much about it?” He asks softly, nuzzling into your hair.

“The city, the people...but mostly I think it’s being with you. When we’re home you work so much...I’m not complaining. I just miss you sometimes.”

“We’ve got the rest of our lives to be together.” He whispers as he releases you. You turn to look at him but he’s already on one knee, crouching in front of you.

“Sam.” You’re already crying as he tugs the glove off your left hand.

“I love you. I wanna spend my life with you.” He states simply, a sparkling ring between his fingers. “I don’t want to wait any longer to start our life together. Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” You blurt out, half laughing, half crying, while he slips the ring onto your finger.

“I’m gonna make you so happy,” he whispers, standing and cradling your face between two warm hands. “I promise.”

The rest of the week is a lovesick haze. The days are spent making love and endless conversation about the details of your new life. Everything feels like it’s falling into place, life has finally come together to give you something good.

New York City

“Come in!” Mary claps her hands together, grinning wildly.

“Hi,” you gasp as she embraces you in a tight hug.

“Sam,” She releases you and reaches out to her son, kissing him on the cheek.

“Hi mom,” he grins as she pats his face. “You’re happy.”

“Well, I have a surprise for you.” She looks at you, the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on her face. “I think it’s just what we need.”

“What is it?” Sam smiles at you, taking your hand and leading the way to the study.

Rounding the corner you find two extra guests seated on the leather sofa, your parents.

You stop in your tracks as Sam tugs on your hand, turning to look between you and these new strangers. You’re locked in a staring match with your father, who’s teetering on the edge of the couch with a glass in his hand. Your mother is sitting uncomfortably beside him, these two couldn’t be more out of their comfort zone. They’ve always considered wealth in itself to be an offensive extravagance.

“Hello, Y/N.” Your father stands up, clearing his throat.

You unconsciously sidestep closer to Sam even though he’s not physically intimidating like when you were a girl, now he’s just a man in cheap trousers who no longer holds sway over your life.

“Hi, Dad.” You don’t move to greet him, there’s complete silence until your mother joins her husband, slinking past him to place a kiss on your cheek. “Mom.”

“Well, this isn’t exactly the reception I was hoping for.” Mary’s tone is painfully cheerful despite the unbearable tension.

“I’m sorry,” You pull yourself together. Turning to Sam you can’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes, you won’t be able to fake your way through this. “Sam these are my parents, Alastair and Naomi. Mom, Dad, this is Sam.”

Sam, always quick with his social graces, shakes your father’s hand and introduces himself to your mom while you are trying to formulate a plan. You were fully prepared to never see either of them again, but you find yourself in a room with two people who rival John and Mary in their cruelty.

“I just thought it was about time that we met Y/N’s parents.” Clasping her hands, Mary scrunches up her nose, smiling from you to Sam. “And what better time? You two can tell us all about Prague.”

“Actually, this is perfect.” Sam’s arm slips around your waist. “We have some news.”

“Oh?” John speaks up for the first time, tilting his head and staring at Sam. It’s amazing how much disappointment the man can convey with a single, one syllable word.

“Yeah,” Sam’s hand squeezes your hip and you look to him for the first time. He’s smiling, a bright genuine smile that even his father can’t take from him. “I asked Y/N to marry me.”

John snorts, Mary’s face contorts into a hideous expression of forced joy and your father remains stoic. It’s Naomi, your mother who has the biggest reaction, moving in to embrace you while your arms hang at your side.

“Congratulations,” she sputters, lifting your hand to see the ring. Her eyes go wide at the sight of the sizeable diamond. “Oh my gosh.”

“If she’s a wearing a ring that must mean she said yes,” Mary approaches you for a hug, nearly shoving your mother out of the way to get to you. “I wish you would have told me Sam, I could have helped with the ring.”

“I think I did alright on my own.” Sam’s grin, his eyes locked on you.

“It’s perfect.” You add, trying not to be distracted by this unexpected turn of events. This should be a happy announcement and you hate that your past is tainting the present, bleeding into your new life like an open wound that refuses to heal.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married.” Your mother has the same dulled, Stepford Wife expression she wore your entire childhood. “Marriage is such a gift, such a sacred bond.”

“Does that mean you’re happy for me?” The question comes out with an edge despite doing your best to temper the disdain.

“Of course.” She looks between you and Sam.

“Congratulations.” John’s face is even, unreadable as he approaches his youngest son.

“Thanks.” Sam accepts his father's half-hearted hug.

“Well,” Mary’s frozen in place, hands clasped together, turning to your father who hasn’t spoken or moved from his seat. “This is delightful news, isn’t it.”

“Seems backward to me.” His eyes lock onto you just like when you were a kid, so much silent contempt for what you are. He’s always resented that his daughter is an Omega. “You’re already claimed. What’s the point?”

“Dad.” You warn. Everyone is watching but all you can see is your father.

“I think it’s wonderful.”  Mary tries to intercede. “With the baby things will be-”

“Mom!” Sam hisses.

Your mother looks heartbroken and your father’s eyes narrow in on you.

“You expected me to be shocked?” He snorts. “I wouldn’t have expected anything different from our daughter. She’s always had trouble keeping her legs closed.”

“Hey,” Sam is right beside you, ready to jump but you put your arm out to stop him.

“I know what you think of me. You’ve always made that much clear.”

“And you’ve always lived up to expectations. I tried my best with you, your mother and I both did. But you and your sister never listened.”

“Tried your best?” You laugh dryly. “You treated us like we were filthy, like being an Omega meant that I was damned from the get-go.”

“You had no self-control. It was bad enough when you were little but once you presented and that first heat came it was clear what kind of women you’d end up becoming.”

“I was a child!” You shout, tears springing to life. “I needed you to love me, to protect me. I needed mom to show me how to handle myself. All either of you ever did was hurt me.”

“This is the problem with today’s society. A little discipline never harmed anyone, and you needed more than you got.”

“I can’t be here with him.” You turned to Sam who’s already wrapping an arm around your waist.

“You’re going to burn in hell. You’ve always been a whore and I knew that you-”

“Stop.” John’s booming voice cuts through the noise, snapping everyone to attention. “You can’t speak that way to her, not in my home. You should leave.”

“Gladly.” Alastair stands up, your mother following blindly just as she always has. He stops to offer you final look of disgust. “You’re in the middle of a vipers nest and you don’t even know it. I’ll pray for you.”

“Get out.” Sam pulls you against him.

-

“What an awful man.” Mary comments, tucking hair behind both your ears. You can’t stop crying and the embarrassment doesn’t help. She wipes her thumb across your cheeks. “If I had any idea I would never have invited him here.”

“All I want is to live my life, to be happy. I don’t know why that’s always been so hard for me.”

“Well, there’s nothing happier than a wedding.” She dotes, handing you a glass of water, turning to Sam who’s seated next to John at the end of the table. “Have you two talked about dates yet?”

“Next month.” Sam nods, tapping his finger on his whiskey glass.

“Next month?” She scoffs, eyes darting to John. “Why so soon?”

“She’s going to start showing at some point.”

“My son is suddenly concerned about what other people think.”

“We don’t want to wait any longer. We want to move forward as a family.” You chime in. Mary doesn’t look at you, instead takes a seat at the table.

“I think it’s a good thing.” John offers casually as the three of you turn to look at him in disbelief. “Family is important. That’s a lesson I’m still learning. I haven’t always been the most supportive, but if Sam’s happy, if you two make each other happy, then why the hell not.”

He raises a glass, tipping back the final vestiges of whiskey, his eyes never leaving you.

--

On Monday morning you’re not feeling well. Sam looks at you sideways, sipping a cup of coffee.

“You alright?” He kisses your cheek before checking his tie in the mirror beside the door.

“Just tired.” You mumble, wrapping the robe around yourself. “I didn’t sleep well.”

“Go back to bed.” He suggests, grabbing his keys off the counter, swooping in for one last kiss.

There’s a gentle buzzing coming from somewhere in the kitchen. Sam pulls away as you both look around. After a few seconds of silence, it buzzes again. Something’s vibrating.  He follows the sound to the pantry, sliding the doors open, the sound growing louder. After shifting a few canned goods around he pulls a small black flip phone from the back of the highest shelf, from behind a 5lb bag of rice.

“It’s a phone?” You ask, watching and he flips it open with his thumb.

“Yeah, it’s dying.” He holds it up, the screen is nothing but the image of a drained battery.

“How’d it get in there?” You ask as Sam hands it to you.

“No idea, must be the housekeeper’s.” He shrugs. “I gotta go, see you tonight.”

-

Sam’s knee deep in a fresh set of analytics, already late for the quarterly meeting when there’s a knock the door.

“What it is?” He asks, expecting Rowena’s head to poke around the corner. Instead, it’s Mary who steps into his office, offering him a tight smile.

“I came at a bad time?” She’s slinking toward his desk as he shuffles papers back into the proper folders.

“Sorry mom, I’m right in the middle of it. I’m already late for a meeting. Can we talk later?”

“I just need a second.” There’s a large manilla folder in her stands, clutching it like she’s holding the crown jewels.

“I’ve only got one minute, but we can get coffee later if you want to-”

“I’d like that, but I-I have to show you something.”

“What?” He’s only half paying attention. When she doesn’t speak he looks up to find her holding the folder out toward him. “What is that?”

“Before you get mad at me, I want you to hear me out.” She explains calmly.

“Mom-”

“I care about you Sam, I won’t ever feel bad for that. I know you think you love this girl but the truth is no really knows where she came from or-”

“I’m not having this discussion.” Sam rests his knuckles on the desk, leaning forward.

“She’s not who you think she is.” Mary’s flustered, unadulterated anger rising her voice. “I know you think I’m always trying to manipulate you, but I’m not the only one-”

“Please, just stop. You’re on dangerous ground. You wanna be careful what you say next. I thought you were on board. Has this whole supportive production just been an act?” He can’t believe she’s still trying to pry her way into his relationship.

“No, I’ve been trying, honestly I have.” She walks around his desk, setting the folder in front of him. “You need to look at this when you have the time.”

“What is it?”

“After I first found out you claimed an Omega I hired a private investigator to look into her background. I needed to be sure you weren’t going to end up hurt.”

“Unbelievable.” Sam shakes his head.

“Sam, he found some things you need to see before you decide to marry this woman.”

“Everybody’s got shit in their past, mom.” He throws up his hands, looking from her to the folder, unwilling to dignify this with an adequate response.

“Not like this.” Mary’s jaw clenches. “She has been busy-”

“No.” Sam interrupts, he’s had enough. “I don’t want to hear any more.”

“I hope, for your sake you look at what he found. Don’t call me, call him. His number is in there.”

Sam sighs, takes a deep breath trying to fathom what in the world his mother is up to now. He’s disgusted but interested enough to pick up the pack and slide it in with his other documents.

“You need to stay out of my life.” He grabs his jacket off the back of the chair. “Find a way to get supportive or get out. It’s one or the other, Mom. I love you, I do, but I’ve got to go.”

-

By noon you’re sick to your stomach, lightheaded and generally feeling unsettled. Figuring it’s better to be safe than sorry you call the clinic. Dr. Johnson has an open appointment the next morning so you take the slot and go back to bed.

A few hours later the cramps wake you out of dead sleep. You jolt into consciousness clutching a hand over your abdomen, sweat covering every inch of you. Something is wrong, you know it in your bones.

You get yourself in a cab and head to the nearest emergency room. You don’t want to call Sam, not yet. He and John are having an important day, meeting with investors and getting ready for the global launch of their new flagship drug. Things have been going so well even his father is coming around. You don’t want to throw a wrench in the works by overreacting.

Omegas are made to carry children. You keep repeating that to yourself as you sit in the waiting room.

After twenty minutes you’re in a triage room in a paper gown waiting for the doctor. They’ve taken a gallon of blood but no one’s told you anything.

There’s a soft knock at the door.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Tuttle. I’m told you’re not feeling so well?”

“Not the best.” You smile as he takes a seat on the stool, rubbing hand sanitizer between his hands. He flips open your chart, reading through the notes.

“Twelve weeks, no complications. You’re claimed… Sam Winchester?” His eyes snap up, glancing at the gleaming rock on your finger.

“Yeah.” You blush, covering the ring self-consciously.

“I just read an article in the New England Journal of Medicine about the work Gilead’s spearheading. It’s an exciting time in medicine.”

“Sam will happy to hear that.” You try to move on from the niceties to the issue at hand, closing your eyes as pain bubbles up from your gut.

“I’m surprised you’re here. You don’t have a personal physician? And you're alone?”

“My doctor couldn’t see me until tomorrow and I didn’t want to worry Sam unless I know something’s wrong. I didn’t think I should wait, though.”

“Smart.” He smiles. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’re fine. No bleeding?”

“No, I just feel dizzy and sick to my stomach. The cramping comes and goes.”

“It’s not uncommon.” He places a hand on your arm. “Lay back for me.”

You stare at the ceiling as he gently presses on different areas of your stomach, asking about abdominal tenderness while making small talk.

There’s a knock on the door and a nurse enters the room, handing him a tablet. He reads the screen, forehead furrowing.

“The doctor you’ve been seeing, Dr. Johnson, she never mentioned you have low progesterone levels?”

“No,” You sit up, unease tightening in your chest. “Is something wrong?”

“I didn’t say that.” He shakes his head. “We’re going to do an ultrasound, just to be on the safe side.”

After a few minutes, there’s a cart wheeled into the room. One nurse is joined by two more as the doctor squirts gel onto your stomach, all four pairs of eyes silently glued to a screen you can’t see.

Dr. Tuttle clears his throat, mouth tightening. It doesn’t take a genius to gage the confused reactions of the medical team.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, tears pooling. “Did I lose my baby?”

“No.” The doctor removes the wand from your stomach. “I can’t discuss this any further with you. I have to speak with your Alpha-”

“Are you kidding me?” You’ve reached the end of your rope with this shit. This is your body, your child and you want to know now. “Tell me what’s going on, I have a right to know.”

Dr. Tuttle takes a breath, “Can I have the room please.”

“Please just tell me.” Wiping tears you wait in terrified anticipation until it’s only the two of you in the room.

“I shouldn’t do a pelvic exam without the consent of your Alpha. I could get in trouble. But I feel in this case I need to make an exception.”

“Why are you telling me that?”

“Because I need to do one. Right now.”

“This doesn’t feel right, I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“I don’t want to say anything else until I have more information.” He looks you dead in the eyes. “You’re gonna have to trust me.”

“Great.” You close your eyes, trying not to sob. “Why not.”

There’s an ultimate humiliation in not having power over your own body. You lie on the table, feet in stirrups and an arm hooked over your eyes, as the doctor performs an examination. It’s almost twenty minutes before he’s finishing poking and probing. You listen to the sickening sound of him snapping off rubber gloves.

“We’re done.” He gently places a hand on your arm, using the other to pull you into a sitting position. His face is grim, looking at you like he’s truly sorry for what he’s about to say.

“Are you gonna tell me?”

“You’re not pregnant.” He states calmly.

The air feels thick like you can’t get enough into your lungs to take a full breath. There’s a numbness that starts in your head and descends over your entire body as you sit and stare at Dr. Tuttle, expressionless.

“Did, um, did I do something wrong?” You ask, the words falling out of your mouth on autopilot. “Is this my fault?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “You were never pregnant.”

“I don’t understand.” Never pregnant. It’s too much, too confusing and your brain can’t process what he’s telling you. “But I…”

“You have high levels of estrogen, extremely low progesterone and a synthetic version of hCG that showed up in your tox screen. It’s tricked your body into pseudocyesis. It mimics all the symptoms associated with a normal pregnancy. Swollen belly, breast tenderness, nausea, and weight gain. In some cases even the feeling of fetal movement. You wouldn’t have known the difference. But I can say with a hundred percent certainty that you have never been pregnant.”

You stare at him, unable to move or speak, the gravity of this revelation setting in.

“But I-I saw a heartbeat. I saw my baby.”

“Whatever you saw, it wasn’t your pregnancy.” He takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is unconventional, I shouldn’t even be telling you this. I have to call your Alpha.”

“Okay.” You’re still, focused on the wall. You can’t think anymore. If you let yourself feel it’ll be too much, so instead you shut down. “I need to go.”

“I think you should stay. We’ll call your Alpha, maybe we can all sit down together-”

“No.” You discard your gown in front of him, nudity is your last concern as you search for your jeans. “Thank you, but I need to go home now.”

-

Sam’s phone vibrates in his pocket for the third time in five minutes. He checks it again, it’s a number he doesn’t recognize so he hits the mute button.

“You need to take that?” John leans back in his chair, his eyes never leaving the shareholders presentation that’s currently in progress.

“I don’t know.” Sam grimaces as a fourth call comes in. “I think I better.”

Stepping into the hallways he answers, already annoyed. “Winchester.”

“Sam Winchester?” The voice is male and unfamiliar.

“The one and only. Who is this?”

“My name is doctor Tuttle, I’m a physician at New York Presbyterian.”

Sam’s heart drops into this stomach.

“What’s wrong?” He’s sweating before the question is finished.

“Your Omega came in today, I treated her for what I thought were pregnancy-related symptoms.”

“Is she alright?” He takes off toward his office, breaking into a run. He just needs his car keys. “Is something wrong with our baby?”

“She’s fine, but I do have some pretty unsettling news, Mr. Winchester. I think it’s best if you come here so we can speak in person.”

“I’m on my way.”

Twenty minutes later Sam’s sitting in a small office with lime green walls, listening as he’s told that his entire world has been a lie.

She was never pregnant. It appears to be a chemical induced pregnancy.

The words rattle around in his head. The doctor keeps talking, the hospital legal counsel sitting in the corner taking notes.

“How is this possible?” Sam can feel the rage boiling in his veins. You’ve been lying to him all this time, it’s the only explanation. “She had an ultrasound, I was there.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time that a woman has faked a pregnancy.” The lawyer speaks up. “You’d be surprised what people will agree to do for a little bit of cash.”

“I’m not entirely convinced that’s the case.” Dr. Tuttle speaks up. “She came in knowing we’d run tests, all it took was a blood screen and an ultrasound to determine she wasn’t pregnant. And her reactions appeared to be genuine. I tried to get her to stay, to wait for you, but she insisted on leaving.”

“I haven’t been able to reach her.” Sam runs a hand over his mouth. There’s a pressure building in his chest, starting to make it hard to breathe “I need to get out of here.”

He tried to call you several times on his way to the hospital but your phone is turned off. He left Donna a message but he didn’t know who else to call. You’re unreachable and his entire world is coming apart at the seams.

--

He sits in his car in the parking garage, key in the ignition but the car is still off. Sam can’t think straight. There are a million thoughts swirling in his brain. His eyes fall on the folder his mother handed him this morning, and he picks up, pulling out a stack of documents.

The first sheet is withdrawal history from your bank account. He hasn’t checked it since the business with Jake but the money didn't stop there. There are a series of withdrawals every month totaling around ten thousand dollars. There are two pages stapled to that one, showing charitable donations to the clinic you’ve been attending. And a deposit statement from the account of Amelia Richardson for fifteen thousand dollars.

Next is a transcript of text messages from an unlabeled number to a second number identified as Jake. It’s a series of messages that end in asking him to come to the apartment the day of the assault, along with the building address and security code.

The following page is a list of internet searches from your home IP address. Some of it’s about him, his family and then the inquiries trail off into fertility. Next, are various detailed searches regarding marriage laws and the details of financial responsibility once an Alpha marries an Omega. Then the specifics of the new drug that Sam’s been working on.

The connections begin to click together. He’s spent the last year listening to scientists explain how their cure for heat sickness works, It’s simple really. It tricks the body into thinking it’s pregnant. It can’t be a coincidence. There’s no way.

The next page is a series of photos. The first two of are you coming and going from the clinic.  

In the third, you’re sitting alone at a table in a cafe. Directly behind is a young blonde, it takes Sam a moment to place her. It’s the ultrasound technician. In the following photo, the girl is gone and you’re joined by Donna. There’s a handwritten note in the margins that reads withdrawal of a thousand same day - pay off?

Next is a surveillance shot of you and Amelia in a hallway at Gilead, you’re talking about something and there’s a note, a reference back to your bank withdrawal and the corresponding deposit into Amelia’s account.

The final photo makes his heart stop. It’s different than the rest and there’s a Post It that says found in Jake’s apartment. It’s from four or five years ago at a charity event. Sam and Dean are front and center, arms around each other’s shoulders. Sam remembers that night well, they both drank too much and ended up flying to Vegas at 3 am. But behind Dean is your image, a younger version of you dressed in a caterer’s uniform, holding a tray of champagne, staring at the back of Sam’s head.

The last page is the name of a divorce lawyer, Rouel Felder, and grainy photos of you leaving his office. Felder is ruthless, he’s represented everyone from Rudolph Giuliani to David Gest.

There’s a handwritten synopsis from the investigator.

It is my personal opinion, based on these facts, that the subject has engaged in ongoing deception regarding her pregnancy and her relationship with Jake Livingston. I believe the subject new that J. Livingston had photos of her contact with S. Winchester prior to their most recent meeting and that the subject cultivated the situation that lead to the death of J. Livingston at the hands of her Alpha.

The picture is clear. You’ve had an agenda from the beginning, this has all been one long, elaborate con designed to get him to marry you.

He opens the door of his car just in time to vomit on the cement. He wipes his mouth with his tie, before yanking it off his neck, tossing it on the ground of the parking garage. There’s a moment when he can’t see straight, his vision blurring as a sickening combination of anger and betrayal rises up.

He punches the steering column a half dozen times, not stopping until his knuckles bleed, but what he really wants is to punch a hole in the windshield. He’s about to really lose it when his phone vibrates and Donna’s name scrolls across the screen.

“I got your voicemail.” Donna quips as soon as he picks up. “I haven’t heard from her. Is something going on-”

“Did you fucking know?” Sam snarls, gripping the phone so tight his fingers turn white. “Have you two been laughing behind my back?”

“You’re gonna need to take a chill pill, buddy.” Donna shoots back. “You might be used to talking to other people like that, but not me.”

“I know what she’s been doing.” He hits the horn of the car with a closed fist.

“Care to share? Because I don’t have a freakin’ clue what you’re talking about.”

“This whole thing was a setup. The sob story about her parents, getting me to take out Jake and a baby that doesn’t fucking exist.”

“Are you drunk?” She asks flatly. “Is something wrong with the baby?”

“I’m so sick of people lying to me!” Sam lashes out, he wants to hurt someone, the rage bubbling up inside him has almost reached its breaking point. “I trusted her.”

“I still have no clue what you’re talking about but you need to take a breath.” She replies calmly.

“I’m talking about Y/N being this whole other person...I was so blind.”

“Stop.” Donna commands and Sam bristles. “Whatever happened you need to stop. This is the kind of crazy shit I warned her about. I told her you’d be bad for her..”

“Me?” Sam snorts in disbelief. “Bad for her?”

“Yeah, your crazy family has had it out for her since you two hooked up. I don’t know what happened but what I do know is that if you think she’s lied or betrayed you somehow, then you really are just a self-absorbed asshole. She’s put herself out there over and over again just to be with you, and now you’re talking like she’s some kind of criminal or something? Have you actually taken the time to get to know her? Because if you had, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Sam’s silent.

“You don’t deserve her.” She spits. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to find my friend and figure what the hell is going on. It sounds like she probably needs someone to be there for her, and it sure as hell isn’t you.”

--

He’s calmed down and he’s got a plan. He’s going to remain collected and confront you with the facts. Show you the photos and the documents and ask for your side the story. The more he thinks about Donna’s words the more he knows she’s right.

This isn’t you. He’s an idiot for thinking anything else.

He can believe a lot of terrible things about almost anyone, but not you. Maybe he’s blinded by his love for you, or maybe it’s just your bond but he can’t imagine that the situation is what is appears to be.

Sam can hear it the minute the door opens. Your cries are audible from the living room and he follows the sound to find you sitting in the middle of the bedroom floor, sobbing into your hands.

He doesn’t understand much about what’s happening, but the moment he sees you he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that you had no idea. There’s no faking this kind of despair.

“Y/N.” He says softly from the doorway and you let out a howl, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself, rocking back and forth on the floor. Gasping through the tears he can hear you struggling to breathe, you’re hyperventilating.

“Hey,” he sits on the floor, scooting closer, pulling you between his legs to wrap himself around you.

“I c-can’t b-breathe.” You sputter, gasping like a fish on dry land.

“Yes, you can.” Sam wants to cry too, but his emotional outbursts are the last thing you need right now. This moment is the greatest test of his ability to be an Alpha and he’s not about to let you down, not again, not after everything. “Breathe with me. Come on, in...out...in...out.”

He takes exaggerated breaths so you easily feel the rhythm of his body, each inhale and exhale is measured and slow until you calm down enough to find the pace on your own. But as soon as the panic attack passes your tears come back, gut-wrenching sobs that crush Sam’s heart.

“I don’t understand. I could feel our baby.” You howl. “I could feel it inside me but it was never there.”

“I know.” He kisses your head, rocking with you in his arms.

“I-I didn’t w-want it and then I fell in love with the idea of-” You can’t finish.

For a long time, neither of you say a word, you just cry for nearly an hour until you’re too physically exhausted to shed another tear. Even after the crying stops, he holds you as the minutes tick by and you lie limply in his arms.

“We’re gonna find out what happened. I promise you.”

“I don't care.” You whisper, utterly defeated. “I want my baby.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sam whispers, a tear sliding down his cheek. “We’ll have a baby. As soon as you want, whenever you’re ready.”

“I don’t think I can.” You grip his arms, holding on like some unseen force might try to pull you away from him. “My heart is too broken.”

-

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[saxxxology]

BITTEN - Ch.4

After getting bitten by a werewolf, Sam finds himself trying to adapt to a brand new lifestyle that brings him closer to the girl he loves, but threatens to tear him apart from his family for good.

PAIRING: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader

WORD COUNT: ~2200

WARNINGS: non-consensual werewolf bite (not sexual), a/b/o dynamics: heat/rut, knotting, claiming, breeding kink, angst, time hop (season 9 to 12), and more.

NOTE: Edited by @kayteonline and @kittenofdoomage - please heed all warnings and enjoy! This is NOT intended to be a dark fic, but if you read something that bothers you, it is your responsibility to stop reading, keep scrolling past it, or contact me for content clarification.

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Series Masterlist

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Dean was in the kitchen when you walked up. He was cradling a large cup of coffee in one hand, and when he saw you emerge from the basement, his gaze fixed on you.

“How is he?” he asked urgently, “is he okay?”

You nodded. “It’s over. He’s fine, just hungry. Where’s Garth?”

“He went out with Bess. She’s in shock over what happened, so he took her to a safehouse out of state.” Dean watched as you pulled a pan from the rack on the wall and set it on the stove. “What do you mean by ‘fine?’”

“He’s not in pain anymore, his fever went down.” You cracked eggs into a bowl and whisked them around. “He just needs to recuperate for a few days, maybe a week.”

“Can I see him?” Dean asked.

You nodded and pulled a couple bagged chicken hearts from the fridge. “After he’s eaten. He’s gonna be stronger than normal for a while, so we gotta keep his human contact minimal.” You heard Dean exhale heavily as you started chopping the hearts into chunks. “Dean, I know you wanted to find a cure, but there’s nothing you could have done. I’ve seen people get bit and go through a lot worse. At least he’s alive. He’s a little different than he was yesterday, but he’s alive.”

Dean nodded and leaned against the counter. “You’re really intent on taking care of him, huh?”

“It’s my job to take care of my pack.” You replied, pulling four sausages from the fridge and tossing them in the pan, along with an entire pack of bacon. “Russ and Joba are gone. The Reverend’s… well, let’s just say I’m in charge of the pack, now. I care for Sam, deeply. If it were up to me I would have killed Joy myself so that didn’t happen.”

You heard Dean scoff, but when you looked at him you could see he was grinning.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Dean finished his beer and set the empty bottle on the counter. “Just… I never thought you’d actually spook over a guy getting turned.”

You shrugged. “I know when to care about someone getting bit. I wanted Sam to leave, I wanted him to forget about me, about the pack. I never wanted him to get bit.”

Dean nodded shortly. “The way I look at it now is, he could have been bitten and left to die. At least this way he’s got you and Garth and Bess to look after him, make sure he won’t get into trouble.”

You finished cooking in silence. Piling most of what you’d cooked onto a large plate, you slid one of the sausage links, a small pile of eggs, and several strips of bacon on a separate one, which you offered Dean. He accepted it gratefully, noting that you’d cooked the chicken hearts in  a separate pan. When you re-entered the basement, you found Sam sitting up and stretching his arms above his head.

“I could smell that from down here,” he muttered, turning his head to look at you, “is that normal?”

You handed him the plate and watched him begin to devour the food, shoveling a mixture of everything into his mouth with a fork that seemed comically small in his large hands. “Yeah, it’s pretty normal. And don’t worry about eating everything there, your appetite’s going to be pretty out there for the next couple days.”

Within minutes, Sam had completely annihilated the food on the plate. He tilted his head back against the wall, his lips parted as he sighed in satisfaction. “There was a heart in there, wasn’t there?”

“Two. Small ones, just chicken, nothin’ special.” You took the plate from him and set it down on the floor before snuggling into him. “How do you feel?”

Sam exhaled heavily and slipped an arm around your shoulders. “Not hungry anymore, definitely not tired… I feel strong. Stronger than before.” He flexed his arms, examining the muscles that bulged under the gray sleepshirt. He seemed bigger. “Actually, I feel like I need to run, get out…”

“There’s the punching bag.” You gestured to the slightly misshapen tool in the corner. “I can’t let you out yet, gotta know you can control yourself around humans.”

“Humans…” Sam looked down at his lap and swallowed. “That’s right, I’m not human anymore.”

You shook your head. “That’s not entirely true. You’re still human here,” you put a hand over his heart. “You’ll still be able to function like a human, your instincts are just rewired a bit, that’s all.”

Sam scoffed. “Yeah, what happens when I wolf out and go nuts?”

“That won’t happen.” You nuzzled his shoulder and stood with him as he shuffled over to the punching bag. He gave it an experimental nudge with his fist. “Want to see Dean?”

He nodded apprehensively. “Yeah, but I don’t wanna try to hurt him.”

“Sam, you won’t—”

“You don’t know that. Make sure I don’t try to hurt him.”

You bowed your head and trotted back up the stairs, closing and locking the cage door behind you. Dean was still waiting in the kitchen, and he stood upon seeing you emerge from the basement.

“You can see him, but we have to be careful,” you said quietly. “If he smells you he could try to get at you, that’s gonna be his first instinct. The cage door down there has silver on it, so if he tries anything it’ll hurt, bad, but I need you to stay on the stairs, keep your distance.”

Dean held his hands up as if in surrender. “Trust me, I’ll be keepin’ my distance.”

You led him down the basement, slowly, his boots clunking heavily on the thick wooden planks. You could hear the dull, repetitive THWACK of Sam’s fists against the punching bag, but after the basement door closed, they ceased, and the space fell silent as you and Dean came down the steps. A little more than halfway down, you motion for him to stop.

“Dean, stay here.”

He nodded quietly and waited for you to slip past the cage, locking it behind you.

Sam was standing in the corner by the punching bag, his arms folded across his middle. You motioned for him to walk over, but he shook his head. “Y/N, I can’t… I don’t want him to see me like this. I can smell him, I can hear his heartbeat.”

“You won’t hurt him.” You walked closer to him, reaching for one of his hands. “Sam, come on, I’ll be there. The door’s got silver on it, you won’t be able to get out.”

Sam lowered his voice. “What if I hurt you?”

“You won’t. Now come on.” You led him slowly over to the wire door. His heartbeat increased with every step, and you heard his breathing grow more and shakier.

When Dean came into view, you didn’t know if Sam was going to recoil or lunge at the gate. He could hear Dean’s heartbeat, steady and slow, the rush of blood pumping through his veins, traces of whiskey and cedar covering up the thick, coppery scent…

...No, stop it! That’s your brother! You wouldn’t bite your own brother!

“Sammy?” Dean’s voice was quiet as he took another step down the stairs. “Hey, it’s me.”

Sam paused, took a deep breath. “I know.” He looked down at the ground and closed his eyes, trying as hard as he could to stop from hurling himself at the wall of the cage. “How’ve you been?”

“Uh, worried, for one,” Dean chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood, “I went out for a little during the night, tried looking for a cure or something…”

“Yeah.” Sam swallowed and clenched his fist. He didn’t know what the fuck was happening, but all he wanted to do was break out of the cage and rip his brother’s chest apart, get at the thick, pulsing muscle that was hidden behind bone and sinew, devour the warm, blood-drenched organ that kept his brother alive…

No! Goddamn it! Stop!

“I thought you’d be gone.” Sam cleared his throat as a fresh wave of hunger washed over him.

“Had to make sure you’re okay, didn’t I?” Dean caught your warning glance to stay where he was and decided not to take the last two steps down. Hell, he might be too close already. “How do you feel?”

Sam swallowed thickly as you increased the pressure on his hand. “Honestly, I feel good. I’m strong, I’m not hurting, just wanna get the hell out of here.”

“And why can’t you?” Dean shifted his gaze back and forth between you and Sam.

“Because if I get out of here I’m not gonna be able to stop myself from trying to hurt you or someone else,” Sam stated bluntly.

Dean seemed taken aback by Sam’s words. Apparently, he hadn’t considered just how dangerous Sam really was until he’d said it. “Sam, you wouldn’t.”

“You don’t know what I’d do, Dean, hell, I don’t know what I’d do.” Sam’s body trembled as he spoke, but he stood his ground. “The only reason I’m not going after you right now is that I know I shouldn’t, but if Y/N wasn’t here with me, if this happened somewhere else… I don’t know if either of us would be alive right now.”

You saw Dean swallow, saw his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, and heard Sam growl, low and deep in his chest.

“Sam, don’t say that.”

“You’re not in the place to tell me what to do, Dean.” Sam retorted. “I’m a monster, both of us know that. You don’t know how… how hungry I feel right now. I don’t have a friggin’ clue what’s making me feel this way, but if you weren’t my brother… I’d kill you, without thinking.”

Looking up, you noticed Sam’s upper lip beginning to twitch. He was starting to lose control. “Dean, I think you should go, this isn’t—”

Dean, obviously, didn’t listen. Instead, he did the worst thing he could. He took another step, closing the distance between him and his brother by another two feet.

Overcome by hunger, Sam snapped. You saw his eyes flash yellow as his instinct to attack sprang free. He snarled, his lips curling back over his teeth as his muscles bunch. He lunged forward, slamming all two-hundred pounds of his body against the cage. His long fingers were pointed in two-inch claws, which curled in the wire before he stumbled back with a yelp of pain; the silver on the wire had seared his skin.

Dean fell back when Sam crashed against the cage, bringing an arm up instinctively to protect his face.

“Dean!” You shouted, pulling Sam back against the far wall and holding him there. “Get out! Now!”

You saw Dean stagger to his feet his eyes fixed on the snarling beast of a man now ten feet away from him. He was staring at Sam with a mixture of fear, anger, and sorrow on his face. Sam took several half-gasping, half-growling breaths before reeling himself back in. He collapsed to the floor, his fingers pressing hard into the smooth concrete. He bowed his head as his body shook even harder.

“D-Dean, I’m sorry!” He gasped out. “I didn’t mean to, I couldn’t help—”

The door at the top of the stairs slammed before Sam could finish, and seconds later you heard the rumble of the Impala’s engine and the grind of her tires scraping on the dirt road as she tore out of the drive and down the road.

Sam’s shoulders heaved with a sob as he collapsed back, breathing hard as he fought to still his shaking hands. The claws had vanished and his eyes were back to hazel, but he still shook with panic. “I didn’t mean to do that,” he choked, “I didn’t—I didn’t—”

“Sam, it’s okay, he’s just gone to cool off.” You soothed him. “He’ll be back, I promise.”

Sam shook his head and reached to grip your hand as you rubbed his shoulder soothingly. “No way in hell. He saw me snap and that was it. He thinks I’m a monster.” He turned his head, and you saw tears streaming from his now hazel eyes. “I am a monster.”

You sat next to him and wrapped your arms around him as tight as you could. “Oh, Sam, it’s all right. You’re not a monster, you’re not. You’re adapting to a new lifestyle, and yeah, you have some different urges, but you’re just starting out. It’s barely been an hour since you woke up, I didn’t expect you to stay under control.” You hugged him tighter and let him bury his face in the curve of your neck. “Dean got spooked, that’s all. He’ll come back.”

“Will he?” Sam straightened his back and practically glared down at you. “How can you know that? Hm? Tell me how you know my brother’s gonna come back thinking I’m still the guy he grew up with.”

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[the-lupine-sojourner]

Takara’s Hero Academia Season 2 Episode 3 (but actually still 2) [Eijiro/OC] [Aizawa/Hizashi]

Okay, so I apologize for just now getting to the end of episode 2 and the start of the Sports Festival! And I didn’t do the sneak peek. So so so sorry!! 

I’ll do the sneak peek on Patreon and all that next time. Ugh I feel so bad about this! But I don’t wanna make this chapter any later, so here we go. 

Anyway! The Masterlist for This Series! 

And the taglist: @elite-guard-hardygal , @dailyojiromashirao , @souskena , and @fandoms-fandoms-everywhere99 . I’m sorry, guys!! I feel weird about posting this for some reason, but hope you all like it! 

Before I get to the story, I jsut awnna say I included a paraphrased quote from my favorite book; Red wall. The actual quote is ‘Even the strongest and bravest must sometimes weep.’ Also, I could resist slipping Asami in again. Hope y’all don’t mind!

God Bless and Good Day! 

~The Lupine Sojourner

“Takara, you ready to go?” Dad calls.

“Yeah, I’ve just finished packing the last box!” I call back. It was a week until the Sports Festival, and we were moving today. We all didn’t have a lot of stuff, so it was a simple one-day thing in theory. So far so good, though.

I hoist the box up and walk out to the living room. This box had the miscellaneous things I wanted to keep, like the old ratty fox stuffed animal that I could never get rid of for sentimental reasons, or pictures of Mom, Dad, and I, or posters and other decorations.

I plop it down. “Man, I didn’t realize how many different decorations I had in my room.” I laugh. Mom smiles. Dad had convinced her to go to Recovery Girl as often as I had and her arms looked better every day. The casts had been taken off and she was doing exercises to get them reacquainted with the things she normally did and how strong she had been. We even worked out together, going for a morning jog followed by yoga and a core workout routine.

In short, we were slowly getting to the point we’d been at before the attack. Mom and I were getting better mentally, too, but that was a long road for a number of reasons, one being the level of shit we went through, two being the severity of our injuries and the fact that the villains had caught us entirely by surprise. We loaded the last few boxes, refused to ‘say bye house’ like Dad prompted, and drove toward UA and our small condo on campus.

Once we got there, all of us grabbed boxes and I followed Mom and Dad’s lead, falling a little behind as I’d been a tad ambitious, trying to carry both my first backpack of clothes and box of decorations.

In fact, when I went to grab the door I was just a second too late to grab before it closed, I end up overbalancing, slamming my face and nose into the glass, before collapsing awkwardly to the ground, the box going flying and the contents spilling out. “Shoot!” I curse, groaning as I pick myself up. I then feel a twinge in my ankle. Apparently, I’d rolled it a little and it didn’t appreciate that.

I sigh heavily and begin picking up the box and putting the stuff back in, feeling oddly emotional about the shattered glass in a few of the framed pictures. Tears even well in my eyes and I resist the urge to start crying. All I wanted was a normal day with my family, unpacking and starting over in our new home.

Turns out, that wasn’t exactly easy. I wipe my eyes and sigh heavily before I make myself start gathering the spilled objects, minding the broken glass. I really don’t know why I’m crying, but the tears come back and this time I couldn’t stop them.

“Hey, are you okay?” I flinch and look up from plopping another glass-less frame in the box. I look up and blink in shock.

“O-oh! Asami-senpai! I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” I squeak. She was trying to hand me a poster she rolled up. I gulp back a lump in my throat and take it, trying to subtly wipe my eyes.

“You know, after an incident like that, it’s okay to cry.” She says softly, hand over mine reassuringly. I shrink into myself in embarrassment.

“You saw that?” I whimper. She nods.

“And I meant what I said. Really, it’s scary fighting villains and having it be life or death. I remember my first fight.” Her eyes are serious, not looking at anything in particular as she spoke, obviously reminiscing about that day.

“Oh...from your work-study?” I ask softly. Being the daughter of two UA teachers who are also pro heroes, I knew all about work studies. She nods.

“It was a group of muggers trying to start a gang. They’d cornered civilians in a back alley and I was working with the Ryuku agency for my work study. We intervened and put them behind bars. I almost got impaled by one of the villains’ air weapon Quirk.” I raise a brow.

“Air weapon?” I ask. Asami nods.

“Hardened air limited to the breath in his lungs and weapons like spears or swords. Annoying, but the situation whacked me. I spent the rest of the day looking over my shoulder and paranoid at anything and everything. I had to have a long talk with dad to finally start to get over it. It’s hard to cope with an experience like this.” I bite my lip and nod.

“I want to be strong, but…”

“Even the strongest and bravest sometimes cry. It’s not a sign of weakness. It shows you feel and you’re human. It’s a perfectly reasonable reaction.” I smile at her, sniffling and wiping my eyes.

“Thank you.” I murmur. She picks up the box as we stand and she hands it to me.

“No problem. Oh, and you can call me ‘Ami’, Okay?” I nod, smiling.

“Okay!”

=#=#=#=#=

“What on earth are you doing?” A hear a voice ask. I turn my head from my Downward Dog position while trying to turn a glass of water into ice (sorta like Shoto, but...not exactly) after a run to see Oba Nemuri standing there, watching me curiously, a touch of amusement in her voice.

Fortunately, she was wearing her teaching clothes. As a teacher, there were certain standards to be upheld so she couldn’t be too outlandish. She had a light purple button-up (with as many buttons as she could get away with undone), a dark grey blazer on top, with a miniskirt I’m fairly certain was not up to the standard dress code. She also had thigh-high leather boots on.

I sigh and move to stand properly. While she is my aunt, it’s always slightly awkward being around her. I do love her, but she’s so...uh, unreserved, and I’d rather not be corrupted just yet.

“Hey, Oba.” I greet. “I’m practicing for the Festival.” She grins.

“Oh, how adorable!” She squeals, wriggling in delight. I blush. Why was she like this? “I must say, that Quirk of yours is really something else!” I manage a grin. She looks at the glass. It felt cool to the touch, but it wasn’t ice by a long shot. And it was draining my blood sugar faster than I’d like to keep trying. “Are you trying to make that water into ice or something? Too cute, darling!” I nod. This was just who Oba Nemuri was. It wouldn’t be fair to judge someone simply because of who they are, right? I only had about an hour with Oba Nemuri. She suggested I make my fighting style all about a whip after I showed her the different things I could do. I turned her down and she demonstrated a few kicks, at least, before she checked the time. “Well, darling, it looks like duty calls.” She sighs, with a touch more drama than needed, really. “My class starts in a quarter hour and I have to freshen up a bit. Mind if I pop into the bathroom real fast?” She asks, almost flirtatiously, winking at me as she grabs a small purse. I hold in a groan and point out where it was.

“Go ahead, Oba,” I reply. She giggles and thanks me before heading into it and closing the door. I move to the kitchen and grab a container of leftover tonkatsu to heat up for a kind-of brunch. She was too much sometimes.

By the time I’ve sat down with the food, Oba Nemuri is back. She draws me in for a hug from behind, kissing my cheek.

“Sorry to run off like this, Nīsu.” She apologizes. “Your parents wanted me to check in on you real quick. Do tell your parents this is a housewarming gift for your mother, would you?” I nod. The present she put in front of me was suspiciously small and in a Victoria’s Secrets bag. I flush, imagining what kind of present Oba had given my mom.

“I’ll make sure she gets it.” I murmur, hoping I didn’t sound as embarrassed as I felt, and Oba Nemuri gives me one last cheek-kiss and leaves. I wave at her, mouth too full to speak, and that’s that.

=#=#=#=#=

Turns out, training almost constantly made time fly by. Mashirao and I had started sparring and it turns out he’s a great teacher. He praised when earned, and sometimes mixed a bit of critique into his praises so I’d learn even from victories (of which there were few), and he was always going all-out on me. He knew that I could take it, and it also helped strengthen my leg and ribs, so we all won.

“Thanks, Mashirao.” I murmur as we walk back to the locker rooms to shower and head home.

“No problem. It’s a great way for me to exercise, too, so we all win. Plus, it’s always more fun to teach when the student is a natural at the subject.” I laugh.

“Thanks, but we know that’s not true,” I reply, scratching the back of my neck. He is quick to shake his head.

“No, I meant it. You’re getting really good, Takara!”

“Thanks,” I reply, then check my phone and see the date. “Oh, crap! The Festival is tomorrow!” I squeak. He blinks.

“I lost track of time. That’s crazy!”

“I know!” He holds up a hand.

“Well, let’s both do our best, okay?” I high-five him.

“Okay!”

=#=#=#=#=

“Nervous?” Dad asks. I gulp.

“What gave it away?” I reply, voice wavering a little. Dad laughs.

“Sweetheart, it’s fine to be nervous.” I nod.

“I know.” The car pulls into the teacher parking lot and we check in, Mom holding Dad’s hand. I notice she’s been doing that a lot since she got her hands out of the casts. I probably would, too, in her situation. It’d only been about a week, but even being unable to use your hands that long...I can’t even imagine. Now, her arms were wrapped in stiff bandages as her arms were slowly regaining strength and the last of the healing in the bones was finishing with a little help from Recovery Girl. Due to the extent to which the bones were broken, it was difficult for Recovery Girl to heal a whole lot per session. There was a lot that needed to happen in Mom’s arms, and it was taking a long time to restore what Nomu broke.

I see my classmates gathering, so I adjust my backpack and walk over. As usual, Eijiro is first to notice me, walking over as I turn to wave Mom and Dad goodbye so they could get ready to commentate on the Festival. How dad managed to convince Mom to do it, I have no idea, but I’m glad. It will get her mind off...other things.

“Hey, Takara.” Eijiro greets. I smile and accept his side-hug. We’d gotten a bit more comfortable around each other and usually gave each other hugs as a greeting. He still smelled amazing, and I always had to restrain myself from continuously sniffing him. “You nervous?” I take a breath and nod a little.

“Yeah...you?”

“Just a little. I’ve always loved watching the Festival growing up and now I’m actually in one, you know?”

“Mmhmm.” I hum in reply, feeling my stomach squirm in anxiety as we walk to the 1-A general waiting room. There, we found PE outfits waiting, and Mina groans when we’re all changed.

“Aww, man!” She whines. “I was totally hoping I could wear my costume.” I shrug, but Mashirao beats me to speaking.

“At least everyone’s in uniforms, so it’s fair, right?” Rikido is shaking in his seat, anxiety clearly written on his face.

“I wonder what they have in store for us in the first round.” He mumbles. I shrug.

“Well, as long as we do our best, it doesn’t really matter, right?” He nods.

“Right,” Fumikagi interjects. “No matter what they’ve prepared, we must persevere.” I nod.

“Yeah!” Tenya then comes suddenly into the room, startling me.

“Everyone, get your game faces on!” He calls. “We’re entering the arena soon!” I feel my stomach flip in nervous anticipation. Everyone murmurs and reacts. I grab my heart, willing it to calm down (not that it listens to me).

“Midoriya,” Shoto calls, walking over to my friend. Izuku turns to him.

“Hey, Todoroki.” He replies. “What’s up?”

“From an objective standpoint, I think it’s fairly clear I’m stronger than you.” I blink. Izuku nods meekly.

“Yeah…” He replies. I step forward to defend Izuku but then halt as Shoto continues.

“However, you’ve got All Might in your corner helping you out. I’m not here to pry about what’s going on between you two, but know that I will beat you.” I pale.

“Shoto, where is this coming from?” I ask, frowning.

“I’ve never pretended to be something I’m not. This shouldn’t be a surprise, really. I’m just stating facts to make things clear before this competition begins.” Shoto replies, not even looking at me.

“What’s with all these declarations of war lately?” Denki asks lightly, attempting to defuse the situation as Eijiro walks over, putting a hand on Shoto’s shoulder.

“Yeah, what’s the big deal? Why’re you picking a fight all of a sudden, right before we get started?” He asks. Shoto just walks away.

“We’re not here to be each other’s friends.” He calls over his shoulder. “Don’t forget; this isn’t a team effort.” I bite my lip.

“Shoto, c’mon. Pros can’t go around declaring war on each other. They have to team up at some point- -”

“Yeah, hang on,” Izuku interjects. “I don’t know what’s going through your head, or why you think you need to tell me that you’ll beat me, and yeah...of course you’re better than me. In fact, you probably have way more potential than anyone in the Hero Course. It’s why you got in so easily.” I step toward Izuku.

“Stop that!” I bark. “Recommendations aren’t an invitation to UA! You have to fight the pool of people with recommendations. In some ways, it’s harder than the entrance exam! That’s why I didn’t choose that path. I could have been recommended by my mom and dad and gotten into the recommendations entrance exam. But I knew there would be so many people that were a lot better than me. I knew I didn’t stand a chance.” I realize I kinda admitted to the facts Izuku is stating and bite my lip.

“Midoriya, Takara, maybe you’re being a little hard on yourself. And us.” He murmurs.

“No, he’s right, you guys.” Izuku counters. “The other courses, Takara’s friend, they’re all coming after us with everything they got. We’re all gonna have to fight to stand out.” Izuku looks at Shoto. “I’ll be aiming for the top, too.” I nod, stepping forward.

“I agree.” I turn to look at Shoto. “I know you’re focusing on beating Izuku, Shoto,” I continue, “but don’t think we’re all gonna stand back and let this Festival slide. We’re all going to do our best and we’ll show the world what we can go.” He tsks, not stopping or looking back.

“I don’t care what you do.” The announcement to get ready came after a few moments of awkward silence and we move toward the exit into the open area at the middle of the stadium.

“Hey!” Dad cheers and I can hear him all the way back here. “Make some noise, avid sports fans!!” I gulp. It was almost time. “Get those cameras prepped! We’re gonna need hordes! Today, we’ll be bringing you some of the greatest performances in Sports Festival history, guaranteed!” I feel like that’s hyping this festival up just a little too much, but obviously, I don’t know what will happen, so… “I only have one question before we start this show; are you ready?!” The crowd’s cheering is infectious, and we can hear it loud and clear as we begin walking. “Lemme hear yah scream as our students make their way onto the main stage!” I can also hear fireworks and lively music playing. “This is the time where the students leave everything on the field as they fight for the chance to achieve worldwide fame and celebrity!” I can’t help rolling my eyes. Most of us want to make a difference in the world in one way or another. Honestly, I doubt anyone (Mineta aside) is truly just wanting to be a hero for the recognition and fame, even Bakugo. Bakugo’s motivations aren’t precisely clear, but I do know he wants to be the top. I also wonder if there’s not more to it than that, though. “This first group are no strangers to the spotlight! You know them for withstanding a villain attack! These dazzling students, including my little kiddo, line up the stage with solid gold skills; the Hero Course students of Class 1-A!” That was our cue and we walk out into the sunlight and view of the cameras as the crowd applauds heartily. I feel thousands of eyes of me and my friends as we walk toward the middle of the area. Eijiro, standing close by, grabs my hand subtly. I squeeze it gratefully.

“Yer dad sure did talk us up a lot.” Eijiro muses.

“Yeah...it’s making me nervous and worried I won’t do well.” I reply. “Especially since he all but said my name.” I add in a moan. Eijiro smiles at me.

“Yeah, he’s your dad. It’s kinda natural for him to brag about you when he gets a chance.” He then turns to Katsuki. “Anyway, how you feelin’, man?” He asks. Katsuki smirks.

“I’m not worried. Makes me wanna win this thing even more.” I chuckle.

“In a way, yeah, but still.”

“Oh, get over it, brat! Too late to back out now!” Katuski snaps. “Besides, knowing you, you’ll scrape by and be fine, you lucky little shithead.” I roll my eyes. Close enough to a compliment, I suppose.

“...Thanks, Katsuki.” I mumble.

“I wasn’t doing it to help you.” Katuski spits. “Just wanted to shut you up.” I sigh.

“Okay.”

“They haven’t been giving nearly as much screen-time, but this next group is still chock full of talent!” Dad proclaims and we watch another group march determinately out of another hall. “Welcome, Hero Course Class 1-B!” The crowd doesn’t let out the cheering and I spot the silver-haired guy who yelled at 1-A a while back. He looks super determined and ready for anything. I smirk, feeling a little of that energy rub off on me. It doesn’t do any good to fret and worry myself to nothing over something I can’t predict, so I just had to grit my teeth and get through it. More students pour out of the halls and Dad continues the introductions. “Next up, General Studies Classes C, D, and E!” I grin and look over, happening to see Hitoshi in the midst of his class. “Support Classes F, G, and H! And finally, Business Courses I, J, and K! Give it up for all of UA’s first-year contestants!” Once we get to the center, where a podium is set up, everyone’s shocked to see Midnight standing there, waving a short whip. I blink. Oba Nemuri is the Chief Umpire!?

“Now, the introductory speech!” She calls.

“Uh...someone should talk to Ms. Midnight about what she’s wearing.” Eijiro mumbles. I nod, looking anywhere but at Oba Nemuri.

“I mean, I know that’s her normal hero outfit, but...could she have worn something else just this once?” I grumble. She’d always been like this and I always found it an incredibly odd experience hanging out with her.

“Seriously, that costume should come with a warning,” Denki adds.

“Is that really appropriate apparel for a high school game?” Fumikage concludes. I, for some reason, didn’t like the blush on Eijiro’s cheeks. Which was stupid. I didn’t know why it bugged me, so I look away, happening to see Mineta’s gleeful expression. I smack him and glare him down. He pouts but doesn’t leer at my aunt-figure anymore.

“Silence, everyone!” Oba exclaims, whipping to grab everyone’s attention. “And for the Student Pledge, we have…” I gulp, praying she wouldn’t pick me. “Katsuki Bakugo!” Shocked murmurs ring the crowd, but no one’s more shocked than 1-A. We knew him and we knew this would not end well. At all. Izuku leans to Hanta.

“He’s the First Year Rep?”

“I guess the hothead did finish first in the entrance tests.” Hanta replies.

“Only for the Hero Course Exams.” A girl from Shinso’s class (I think) grumbles. Izuku winces.

“Oh. Right.” He amends.

“That girl obviously hates us.” Hanta mumbles under his breath.

“And we’ve got Bakugo to thank for them not liking our class,” Denki adds. I bite my lip as Bakugo walks up the podium. Even the crowd waits in bated breath for what Katsuki would say.

“I just wanna say…” Katsuki begins. I frown. Please be normal, please be normal…. “I’m gonna win.” I pale. Shit! Katsuki, no!

The crow boos and threatens and is in general not happy with Katsuki as he walks back down.

“Why would you be so disrespectful!?” Tenya exclaims, arms waving wildly around. “You’re representing us all!” Katsuki just turns and gives us a thumbs down.

“Not my fault the rest of you are just stepping stones to my victory.” He grumbles. From Class 1-B, I see that silver-hair guy grit his teeth and stalk forward a little, glaring at Katsuki.

“I’m gonna crush this overconfident jerk!” He screams, raising a clenched fist. “I can’t wait to knock him down a size!” I sigh heavily. I wonder what’s going through Katsuki’s head right now. He claims he wasn’t nervous and even publicly vowed to win, but there seems to be something about him that says he’s just making a show, pushing himself...but still. What a way to start the Festival…

“Without further ado, it’s time for us to get started!” Oba Nemuri calls as the screens shift from ‘introductory speech’ to ‘first game’.

“This is pretty nerve-wracking,” I whisper to Eijiro. He nods.

“Yeah...and now we have everyone gunning for us, thanks to Blasty over there.” I sigh, then nod and refocus on what Oba’s saying.

“This is where you begin feeling the pain!” She calls. “The first fateful game of the Festival!” As she swipes her whip, a hologram appears and displays a lottery style spinning title. It continues spinning...as does my stomach. What on earth would we have to do? It finally halts and I pale.

An obstacle race!? What?!

“Ta-da!” Oba cheers. I gulp. Oh boy… “All eleven classes will participate in this treacherous contest!” She explains, the hologram visualizing it with graphics. “The track is 4 kilometers around the outside of the stadium. I don’t want to restrain anyone...at least, not in this game, so as long as you don’t leave the course, you’re free to do whatever your heart desires!” I squirm a little, flushing. She looks a little too happy to be talking like that. She then sobers just a little. “Now then, take your places, contestants!” As the crowd cheers, we walk over to the start line. I gulp. This was it.

It was time to make my mark and hopefully start my path to being a pro-hero. I didn’t know what awaited me out there, but all I could do was put my best foot forward and try my best, right? No matter what happens, I’ll be okay if I just do what I can.

Above the crowding students, three green lights are lit, the first one turning off as the countdown begins. Beside me, Eijiro smiles at me and gives me a thumbs up as the next light turns off. I grin back at him and take a deep breath.

The final light turns off as Oba cries ‘begin!’ I tear forward, instinctively grabbing Eijiro’s hand, but we were quickly separated and jostled and shoved by the pressing students.

“How about some killer commentary, honey?” Dad’s voice somehow reaches over the multiple voices and I almost laugh.

“How did I let you talk me into this?” Mom replies under her breath, but there was almost a hint of amusement in her voice.

“What should we be focusing on in the early stages of the race?” Dad asks.

“The doorway.” Mom replies shortly. I chuckle despite being smushed between two students.

Just up ahead, as I’m coming up on the end of the entryway, I see ice and feel the air cooling rapidly as Shoto freezes the ground and up the walls. Gritting my teeth, I jut out a tiny platform, just big enough for my foot, and launch myself up and as far out as I can, creating another small platform when I need it. This was not in my plans, but there was nothing to do about it. I can’t turn this into water, so I had to find another way across. Shit! This will really limit what I can do for the other obstacles!

Luckily, Eijiro was right behind me, using the small platforms I’d made to get further along the ice.

“Nice trick, Todoroki!” Momo calls sarcastically, and he looks back to see the number of people that had dodged. Katsuki was using his blasts to keep airborne.

“I won’t let you get away so easily, you icy-hot bastard!” Katsuki roars, blasting his way closer as I make another platform. Even releasing the platforms once Eijiro jumped off them resulted in more blood sugar gone than I wanted. Who knew what was in store, but I had no real other choices. I just had to be smart about using my Quirk from here on out.

I couldn’t afford to be careless or I’d- -Shot!! Those vibrations feel like...no way!

They have the robots from the practical exam in this race?! I skid to a stop on the edge of the edge, feeling for water. Shit! Nothing! “What is it?” Eijiro asks, just as Mineta goes flying ahead of us, slammed by a huge metal arm. The robot comes into view, with other robots, seconds later.

“That!” I point. Eijiro hardens his forearms.

“Beat ‘em once, right? This’ll be a piece of cake!” I grin, feeling more confident now I thought about it that way.

“You’re ri- -Shoto, what the hell?!” Shoto is at the head, closest to the robots, ice swirling from Shoto’s right hand in a circle, getting larger and larger until he swept it at the robots. They were frozen solid, at least the frontrunners. I run forward as everyone else was still frozen in shock, Eijiro right behind me as well as that silver-headed guy.

“Careful now,” I could hear Shoto calling over his shoulder as the robots creak and groan, shuddering under their own weight. Taking another look, I pale. “I froze them when they were off their balance. On purpose!” Before I could move another step, before I could do anything, the robot nearest us collapsed and all of a sudden, my butt hit the ground and I am enveloped by dust and ice shards that prickle my skin. I didn’t even know what had happened till I looked where Eijiro and the other guy were standing, only to see a pile of frozen robot parts.

“Eijiro!” I scream. Was he under there?! Had he been crushed!? “Eijiro, hang on!” I am running forward before I can think, not knowing what to do, but desperately hoping Eijiro was okay.

[the-lupine-sojourner]

Takara’s Hero Academia, Season 2 Episode 2 [Eijiro Kirishima/OC] [Female!Aizawa/Hizashi]

Okay, so here we finally are. I feel like it’s been forever since I updated this story. Sorry! 

Anyway, um, I do now have a Patreon, in case anyone wants to actually pay me to write or whatever. Seriously, though, don’t feel pressured to do anything with this. I am just seeing if anything will come out of this. 

Moving on, I’ll do the taglist. @elite-guard-hardygal @dailyojiromashirao @souskena and @fandoms-fandoms-everywhere99 . I apologize for not having this up last night!! I thought I’d be able to sit down and get it done but then I ended up getting sidetracked and then it was midnight and--whoops. I might post what I did instead later. It’s kinda cool! Hardygal knows what it is, lol. XD

Okay, so lemme add the link for this series’ Masterlist! 

Okay, now let’s get to the story! :)

God Bless and Good Day! 

~The Lupine Sojourner

By the time the final bell rang, I was exhausted.

I yawn and stand, gathering my things up before Eijiro grabs them and slips them into my backpack for me, and I blush a little. He was still distracting me! I thought I was going to try to pull myself together around him! Regardless, I smile.

“Thanks, but you really don’t have to keep doing this kind of thing for me…” I mumble, scratching the back of my neck. Eijiro shrugs.

“I want to.” He replies and my blush goes a few shades darker.

“O-oh…” I mumble. “Okay.” Then, Ochaco opens the door.

“Uhh...why the heck are you all here!?” I look up and see the doorway packed with students.

“Do you students have some business with our class?” Tenya asks. No one replies. I shift awkwardly, shrinking back a little into my seat. The spotlight wasn’t something I was used to. If I had to guess, they’re here to scout out the class that’s fought villains...greeeaaaattt.

“Why are you blocking the doorway?” The class pervert asks. “I won’t let you hold us hostage!” I roll my eyes. Like he could do anything about it. Katsuki, backpack over his shoulder, stalks toward the door.

“They’re scouting out the competition, idiots.” He growls. “We’re the class that survived a real villain attack. They wanna see us with their own eyes.” I gulp, standing. If he was leaving, I should, too. I needed to find Mom and Dad, anyway. Eijiro takes my backpack and walks toward the door with me. I smile gratefully at him. “At least know you know what a future pro looks like.” Katsuki continued. I roll my eyes, the smile dropping.

“Katsuki, enough. We’re all striving to be heroes. Technically, that makes us all potential future pros. Stop.” I call, but it doesn’t make a difference.

“Now move it, extras!” Katsuki snaps as the crowd goes quiet.

“Katsuki!” I bark, hobbling over.

“You can’t just go around calling people extras just because you don’t know them!” Tenya interjects, his arms waving wildly in his emotional state. I open my mouth to add my own lecture, but then a voice rings out and I freeze.

“So this is Class 1-A.” It was Hitoshi! “I heard you guys were impressive, but you just seem like an ass.” He was talking to Katsuki as he made his way through the crowd as I crutch over.

“Shinso!” He never liked me calling him ‘Hitoshi’ in public. He smiles briefly at me, nodding subtly, then turns back to Katsuki.

“You know this clown?” Katsuki growls. I glare at him.

“Yeah. We went to middle school together.” It was a reason I know his name, at least. I didn’t need to go further and embarrass Hitoshi.

“I was sad to come here and find a bunch of egomaniacs in her class.” He continues, sighing a little and rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s just how Katsuki is,” I defend, “but seriously. Not all of us are like him.” Katsuki glares at me. Hitoshi closes his eyes.

“I wanted to be in the hero course.” He says to no one in particular...or maybe Katsuki. Or 1-A. I’m not sure. “But, like many others here, I was forced to choose a different track.” I suddenly realize why Shinso was here; part of it might be checking on me, but a larger portion must be him declaring what he intended to do. He wanted to win the Sports Festival or do well enough that he can be moved into the Hero Course, like Mom did when she was in high school. “Such is life.” His eyes narrow at Katsuki, who’s remaining surprisingly calm. “I didn’t cut it the first time around, but I have another chance.” I knew it! “If any of us do well in the Sports Festival, the teachers can decide to transfer us to the Hero Course, and they’ll have to transfer students out to make room.” Oh, no...this was a declaration of war. “‘Scouting the competition’?” Hitoshi asks rhetorically. “Maybe some of my peers are, but I’m here to let you know that if you don’t bring your very best, I’ll steal your spot right out from under you.” Hitoshi tilts his head a little. “Consider this a declaration of war.” I blink.

“Shinso…” I murmur, biting my lip. The rest of the class flinches in shock, but I look at Shinso dead in the eye. Hitoshi was serious, but only glaring at Katsuki, who was glaring back. Was he just acting tough to push himself?

“Hey, you!” Comes a new male voice, and someone else forces their way to the head of the crowd. He had incredibly thick blonde eyelash-looking things around his eyes, with silver hair and a fire in his eyes to match Katsuki’s. Oh, great. Another hothead. “I’m from Class B, right next door to you! We heard you fought some villains and- -oh, shit.” He stops short when he sees my boot and crutch. I sigh and gesture to the boot.

“Yeah, we fought villains.” I reply. “And I got the injuries to prove it.” He takes a step back, then scoffs.

“Well, looks like the rest of your class are brats who think they’re better than us!” He challenges. I roll my eyes and point to my backpack, in Eijiro’s hand.

“That’s my backpack, but it hasn’t been on my shoulders since I got here. Eijiro here was the one who got me out of the villain attack and he’s been helping me ever since. The rest of my class are great people, too. Bakugo’s just...headstrong and doesn’t listen to anything or anyone.” The guy turns to Katsuki.

“Oh, great! Talk all you want, loser! It’ll just be more embarrassing when you’re K.Oed!” Katsuki just scoffs and walks away.

“Don’t you ignore me!” The newcomer roars angrily. I move to get Katsuki, but Eijiro beats me to saying anything.

“Dude, where’re you going?! You gotta say something! It’s your fault everyone’s hating on us, Bakugo!” Katuski just glances over his shoulder.

“These people don’t matter.” He growls.

“Huh!?” Eijiro snaps.

“The only thing that’s important is that I beat them.”

“Katsuki, stop!” I snap. “Yeah, we have to beat them to win, but heroes also need to have good teamwork with others. You need to work on that if you want to be the top.”

“Says who?” Katsuki retorts, then walks away before I can say anything else. The silver-head pops up again.

“Hey! I’m coming for you!” He exclaims. Katsuki ignores him. I go to chase him down and talk sense into him, but then decide against it. Right now, Katsuki’s only focus was winning the Sports Festival. If I were to talk to him, he’d only see it as me trying to undermine his chances somehow.

“I hate that that was such a manly exit…” Eijiro grumbles, clenching his fist. I bite my lip.

“Yeah, but...there’s no way he’ll win the Festival if he pisses everyone off.” I reply.

“Meh. He’ll be fine.” Sero counters.

“Besides, he wasn’t wrong.” Fumikage points out. “We have to beat them.” Kaminari groans.

“Yeah, sure, but this sucks!”

“So let’s prove them wrong.” I call, coming back further into the class room. “Don’t be what everyone thinks we are. We’ll prove them wrong.” Denki groans.

“But he made us everyone’s enemy!”

“Yeah, and all these dumb idiots will be gunning for us in the Festical now.” Mineta adds. I shrug, not looking at that little creep.

“Look, just keep training hard and don’t be an asshole and we’ll prove them wrong.” I retort, looking at Kaminari. He laughs.

“Kinda blunt, Yamada, but I like your style!” I chuckle and wave him away.

“Call me Takara, and thanks.” Eijiro then calls me and puts my backpack beside my desk for me. I notice he’s glaring at Kaminari, so I try to distract him by smiling at him. “Thanks.” The students outside slowly go away, talking about this and that, and I have to restrain myself from giving some big speech about how great my class is because the truth is...I don’t really know them yet. I don’t know enough to definitively stand up and say what I want to say. I then look up as Shinso walks over, giving me a small smile.

“Hey.” I smile back.

“Hey.”

“I’m glad to see you’re better. You had me scared for a moment.” Anyone who didn’t know Shinso might think he’s just saying that. His voice didn’t give much emotion away, but I understood. He meant every word.

“That was some speech.” I note, sighing.

“I meant that, too.” He says, leaning against the desk in front of me and crossing his arms. Most everyone’s left and I wanted to talk to Shinso, anyway, so I stay.

“Don’t lie; you just wanted to see me.” I tease, smiling.

“And what gave you that idea? I just wanted to send my message to 1-A.” He retorts. I roll my eyes, then sigh and pick at my skirt.

“...I’m worried, Shinso.” I confess softly.

“About what?” He asks, brow raised.

“About the Festival, and...and if I’ll be healed enough to prepare myself to fight. I just...my ribs don’t hurt that bad, but my leg still needs work. And I still need to train. A lot. I just...Mom and Dad will be watching. The world will be watching. I want to make a good impression.” Eijiro apparently takes that as a kind of cue, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

“You’ll make a great one!” He assures me, daring to squeeze me close enough to mush our cheeks together. I blush and laugh.

“If you say so.” I reply, squeezing him in return. He straightens up, lets go, and puts a hand on my shoulder.

“But seriously; don’t sweat it. You’ll be great!” I grin and put my hand over his in a moment of boldness. 

“If you say so.” I retort. Eijiro understood the deeper meaning; I support you, but think you’re downplaying yourself too much.. It was somethign we’d done for each other a lot as we approached this school year and the challenge of learning how to be a pro hero. Shinso pushes off the desk.

“Well, it was nice chatting, but I should be going.” He says. I stand, too, and hug him.

“Thanks for coming.” I murmur, drawing away.

“Your friend’s right, Takara; trust yourself. Besides, your parents adore you. No matter what you do in the Festival, their love won’t change.” I nod.

“Yeah, yeah. I just can’t help worrying about this whole thing.” Hitoshi shakes his head, chuckling.

“Don’t.” With that, he shrugs and waves as he walks away. I watch him leave and then pick up my backpack, slinging it over one shoulder, insisting on carrying it this time, despite Eijiro tugging on it.

“I got it. I’m not going far. Just to the teacher’s lounge to find Mom and Dad.” Eijiro pouts.

“Takara, you shouldn’t overdo it.” He mumbles. I smile, adjusting the backpack a little.

“I’m not.” He suddenly leans forward gives me a hug. I wonder where this is coming from, but find that I really like this. His hug is strong, but not overwhelming, steady and warm. I feel so safe and secure, I lose myself for a second and bury my face in his neck. He smells like cologne and men’s bodywash. One of those two things had teatree oil in it, something that made him smell amazing!

I then feel Eijiro stiffen and come back to reality and I blush almost blood red as I release him. Our eyes were so wide, they might have popped if they were balloons. “S-so-sorry!” I stammer, grabbing my crutch and running as quick as I can out of the classroom without using the crutch. Eijiro hadn’t moved, so I had a headstart, managing to get away before he- -”Ow!”

“Oof!” I blink, my leg flaring a bit as I realize I’ve run into somebody. Instantly, I stand and apologize. The person I hit laughs.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. It happens sometimes.” It’s a female, third year if I had to guess. Her Quirk makes her look wolf-like, her fur a mottled grey, black and earthen brown. It was so pretty! Her eyes were sapphire blue on the outside and emerald green on the inside and her tail flicks back and forth mindlessly and I have to remember to talk. It was rude to just stare.

“But still. I’m, um, Takara. Takara Yamada.” Her eyes light up.

“Oh! My dad works with your parents!” I raise a brow.

“Really?” She nods.

“Yeah! Oh, sorry! I’m Asami. Asami Hamato.” I grin.

“Like Hamato-Sensei that teaches the second years’ literature?” Asami laughs.

“Yeah. He might quit after this semester, though. He wants to start a self-defense dojo for people with less, um, combative Quirks.”

“Wow, that’s amazing!” She nods happily.

“Thanks.” She hands me back my crutch. “Here you go.” I take it. She pauses. “Wait...you’re in 1-A, right?” I nod.

“Yeah.” She gestures to my boot.

“This from that USJ incident?” I nod.

“Yeah...turns out your leg breaks when a superhuman grabs it to slam you into your mother.” I tried to sound light, like it was a joke now...but my voice wavered. Asami winces.

“Yikes. I’m glad you’re doing better, then.” I was grateful she didn’t press me for more details as I squirm.

“Thanks. I should probably let you go. It was great meeting you.” Asami smiles.

“Yeah, it was great meeting you, too. Maybe I’ll see you around, okay?” I nod, starting to walk off.

“Yeah.” We wave at each other and I continue on my way. Luckily, Eijiro hadn’t pursued me. I blushed again just thinking about that moment…

What was I thinking?! I’d just...it’d felt so good having his strong arms around me, his warmth making me feel safe and at ease, even if it was just for a moment. And then I went and ruined the mood by sniffing him! Ergh!

Finally, I reach the teacher’s lounge. “Hey, champ!” Dad calls. “I was just gonna come looking for yah!” I walk further into the room.

“Hey. I was just talking a bit with the others before I came up here.” he smiles.

“Okay.” I decided to focus on Asami, not that. I’d never hear the end of it if I told Dad I sniffed someone (especially Eijiro) out of nowhere.

“I met a third year on my way here.” Dad tilts his head.

“Oh? Who are they? I might know her.”

“Asami Hamato.” Dad grins.

“Oh, yeah! Her dad works here; Hamato Yoshi. He’s a nice guy. Kinda quiet, doesn’t say much, and doesn’t hang around the school a lot.” I shrug.

“Asami also said he wants to start a self-defense dojo for people that don’t have very combative Quirks.” Dad’s eyes go wide.

“That’s great!” I grin.

“I know, right?” Dad then grabs his stuff.

“Alright. Shota’s resting on the couch, but it’s time to go, so I’ll get her.” I nod.

=#=#=#=#=

The next few days went quick, and after school, I’d pop in for a little healing. Never anything extreme, but enough that in those few days, I was healed enough that Recovery Girl gave me the okay to start getting back into exercise and training, warning me to take it a little slow at first.

At that particular session (when I was cleared for training), All Might happens by the door. “I didn’t know you still needed healing…” He mumbles, walking slowly into the room. He looked guilty, but I don’t know why.

“Well, I didn’t want to drain my stamina too much because of school and stuff, but, um, yeah...I should be all healed soon, though, right Recovery Girl?” She chuckles.

“Yes, I believe so, now hold still so I can use my Quirk.” I do and find the healing sensation something I’ve gotten used to at this point. I watch Toshin-Oji go into his real form and sigh heavily as he sits on a cot.

“Takara, I...I wanted to say I’m sorry.” I blink as Recovery Girl moves away.

“Wait, what?” I ask, genuinely confused. “What for?”

“I couldn’t be at the USJ because I wasted my time as All Might that morning being heroic. I was stupid and now you, Shota, and Izuku paid the price.” I blink, remembering that Izuku’s legs seemed broken when he leapt out to protect All Might at the USJ. I wince.

“Is Izuku okay?” I ask automatically.

“He’s fine.” Recovery Girl assures me. “Besides broken legs, he only had minor injuries and two broken fingers.” I breathe out.

“That’s good.”

“How’s Shota?” All Might asks, bringing us more or less back to what he’d said. I sigh.

“She’s...coping. It’s not easy for her to adjust to needing to wear casts on both of her arms, but she’s happy she’s not blind.”

“She could have been blinded?!” He asks sharply in shock. I pale. Wrong thing to say!

“...Her orbital floors were pretty badly damaged, but Recovery Girl managed to heal them. She’s fine...or, at least, better then she used to be.” I chuckle awkwardly, and All Might smiles in relief, exhaling.

“That’s great news. Frankly, I was worried about you two, even after I heard you were stable. When I saw you on the ground, caught under Nomu’s foot...I didn’t know what had happened, just that it pissed me off so much I saw red and next thing I knew, I had you in my arms.” I blink. He’d been feeling this way since the incident?

“Toshin-Oji, you really can’t blame yourself- -no, seriously- -the only ones to blame are the villains.” I reply, holding up a hand when he tried to interrupt. “Even during the fight, I knew as long as I could hold out until I got to Recovery Girl, I’d be okay. I knew my injuries were bad, but I always had that notion in the back of my head.” I realize what I’m saying and turn to Recovery Girl. “I mean, not that I assumed you’d help me or anything! I just knew there was a possibility that I’d be healed pretty quickly!” She holds up her hand.

“I knew what you meant, dear. And, unlike another student, I haven’t had to heal you much, so of course I’d help you out. You and your mother were hurt pretty bad. I knew I could help, and I did, so let’s all agree to put this behind us, okay?” I smile.

“Yeah...okay. Toshin-Oji?” He turns his head to look me in the eye. “I love you.” He blinks.

“I love you, too.” He says and I swoop over to hug him. “You truly are a treasure.” He murmurs, squeezing me just a little harder and kissing my temple. I tear up a little in happiness and bury my face in his chest.

“Hey, Tik--...am I interrupting?” Dad asks, trailing off when he saw what was going on. I pull away and smile at Dad.

“Nah, we were just clearing some things up.” I reply, winking at Toshin-Oji. Dad seems to read the subtext and nods.

“I see. Well, Shota’s ready to go, so let’s not keep her waiting, okay?” I nod.

“Okay.” I turn back to the office. “Bye, guys!” I call, waving as I walk out of the room, thankfully not needing my boot. “Thank you, Recovery Girl!” I add.

“Don’t overdo it, dear! Start slow!” She calls back and I nod in acknowledgement.

“Hey, Tik-Tak, there’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about.” Dad says as we walk, and I nod, wondering what he could possibly want to talk to me about.

“Okay.” I prompt. He wraps an arm around my shoulders.

“Shota and I have been talking, and we think it’d be best to move into the faculty facility here on campus. That way, Shota doesn’t have to be driven to work everyday and we all have a bit more independence. Would you want to do that?” I nod.

“Yeah, Mom mentioned you two were toying with the idea, and I told her I could have my stuff packed in, like, two hours. Honestly, I think it’s a good idea!” He ruffles my hair.

“Thanks, Takara. Frankly, I’m using the whole move as a way to help Shota.” He sighs, slumped and looking away. “She’s taking this hard. Villains got the drop on us and she’s still trying to cope.” I blink.

“I...I’d imagine so.” I mumble. “Honestly, I haven’t been sleeping too well, myself. I keep waking up to nothing, feeling on edge for some reason, wondering what woke me, but I’m able to go back to sleep. Sometimes, I swear there’s someone in a room, but when I do the vibration thing, no one’s there.” Dad looks at me somberly, hand on my shoulder.

“That’s completely normal, Musume. Even Shota’s been having nightmares. She keeps waking up, clutching her face and staring around the room with her Quirk active, like she’s looking for enemies. It’s hard to get her to calm down.” I sigh. Figures Mom has her own demons to deal with.

“Maybe we can have movie night? Watch some corny comedy or something?” Dad chuckles.

“Maybe. Or we can ask Toshinori for show suggestions to watch as a family.” I nod eagerly.

“Yeah!” I’m already whipping out my phone and typing up a text as Dad laughs.

“We’ll look up recipes for popcorn and make a night of it. What’dya say?” I grin at him, sending the text.

“I say ‘hell yeah’!” I reply, high-fiving dad. This was a great idea!

Within five minutes, I get a text back.

Toshin-Oji <3:

Well, if you’re looking for something that makes for a good distraction, I’d recommend some of the older movies by an American film studio called Walt Disney. They have an interesting 2-D style in their early works and I find the stories charming. As for shows, I’m not sure...maybe look around and see if something appeals to you all.

I smile. That was an interesting idea, for sure.

=#=#=#=#=

The next day, we were at the fake city from the entrance exam, training. It was a lot of fun, even if I couldn’t really work myself the way I wanted to without making my leg cramp and spasm even after healing the broken bone. It was slowly coming back to normal, though, as I practiced simple kicks and stuff after a really short run to build that muscle back. My ribs forced me to take breaks, as well, if I pushed it too hard, but they were coming along great, too. My phone buzzes as I finish a pretend fight, so I check who the text is from.

Eijiro Kirishima:

Hey, come look at the tall building’s roof!

Confused, I decide to go ahead and walk over. I knew Eijiro was in the same area as me, so I knew which tall building he meant. However, it was so tall, I couldn’t see clearly what I was supposed to see up there. All I saw was a small blurry thing that might be Eijiro.

Me:

Ok, I’m here. What do you want me to see? I can’t really see anything…

Just a few seconds after I sent that, I hear a faint yell and then look up to see- - “Eijiro!” I scream, backing up toward the building make sure I wouldn’t be hit. I knew what he was doing; practicing falling long distances and using his Quirk to survive them. It was just training, but...still. If he didn’t activate his Quirk in time...thankfully, he lands and comes back up almost instantly, thrusting dramatically through the cracked pavement.

“Yyyeeaaahhh!” He roars, grinning wildly at me as he walks over, dusting himself off. His grin then turns into a smirk. “Impressed?” He asks, one hand on his hip, the other on the wall. I snort, blushing a little as he leans in just a little.

“You’re insane. You could have died...but to answer your question...yeah, it was kinda impressive.” I reply with slightly pink cheeks, chuckling and walking away, when Eijiro puts his other hand on the other side of my head. I turn to look at him. His face is intense with some unreadable emotion as he stares at me.

“So...did I smell good?” He asks, leaning in. I blush and lean back against the wall. Where was this coming from!?

“Um...what?” I ask stupidly, my racing mind unable to process what he might be talking about.

“What happened after the final bell yesterday...that hug…” My blush darkens. Oh shit! I’d almost forgotten! I lick my lips.

“I- -I’m so sorry about that!” I squeak, unsure how to take this reaction. Was he mad? Disgusted? He was so hard to read right now… “I, ah, I mean…yeah...you did smell good.” Why was that hard to say? It was a fact, nothing more...right? He then smiles, laughing (I swear he’s blushing, too, though) as he leans back, keeping one hand on the wall. I blush darker and want to sink into the ground.

“Takara, relax! I was just teasing!” He chirps. “But, good to know!” I exhale, then smack his arm.

“You jerk! I thought you were mad at me or something!” That, and I thought maybe...that was leading somewhere- -stoppit! This is not the time for those kind of thoughts! He’s just a friend! Stop!

“Aww, Takara, I could never be mad at you for long!” He replies, patting my arm and moving away.

“Good to know, jerk.” I grumble, the tone undermined by my smirk, then I sigh and nudge him. “You know, you’re a good man, Eijiro.” I mumble, cheeks red again “You didn’t have to help me, but you did, and I want you to know it means a lot to me.” He’s definitely blushing as he walks beside me. I wanted to make sure he knew how much all his help meant to me.

“Takara, I’d do it again. Anytime.” I feel an instinct to hug him but refrain and settle for smiling at him as we walk back toward where the others were training.

“And I’d do it for you.” I reply, just letting myself enjoy this moment. It was two friends affirming their bond...and that’s it…

So why am I blushing?!

(I promise I don’t mean to keep forcing KiriKara down your throat but most of these moments write themselves. Hope y’all don’t mind! (: Can’t wait to show you all the Sports Festival!)