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deanstead · 3 years

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Family Don’t Start With Blood

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Daughter!Reader

Request by anon: Could you do a Sam x daughter!reader where they found her as a baby but she was half demon so they took her in to try and be good and she grows up with them and stuff and then I’m season 15 instead of Cas going to the empty it’s her going (bc she’s half demon) where they find Ruby and Ruby admits to the reader that she’s her mother and Sams her father

Warnings: none

A/N: This was a specific request so I decided to give it a go. I apologise if there’s any mistakes! Hit me up in my ask and let me know what you think – should I continue to write Winchester!Daughter fics? That said, this is based off of 15x13 and I do hope you like what I did with it! Taglists are open, as are requests!

---

Sam turned slightly to look at you, where you had fallen asleep in the back of the Impala and smiled.

“Kid’s pooped.” Dean commented and Sam smiled. “Technically she’s only what… 11?” Sam said with a smile, looking back out the window, as Dean looked in the mirror and turned the music down.

Sam still remembered that day about 11 years ago, when he had first found you – just a baby wrapped in a thin blanket. It took a little less than a minute of you laying in his arms before you had Sam wrapped around your tiny fingers.

At best, Dean had been hesitant, the hesitation only growing when they realised you were half-demon. Sam glanced at Dean who had his eyes fixed on the road, remembering the many arguments that they had had - about bringing you up to be good and Sam’s own insistence that you were half human and could be good. When Sam finally managed to convince Dean to carry you in his arms, you had looked up at him, grabbed his finger and Dean had stopped arguing altogether.

You had spent the next 11 years growing under the watchful eyes of the Winchesters. You didn’t present like a normal 11-year-old child, growing rapidly, both physically and mentally and Sam had finally relented a few years back, allowing you to go on hunts with them. Which, as Dean constantly reminded him, had saved their skins more than once.

You whined a little as Dean went over a hump and Sam turned to glance at you again as you shifted in your sleep. “Sorry kid.” Dean whispered, an affectionate smile on his face as he glanced at you through the mirror.

Sam smiled. “Crazy, huh?”

Dean glanced at Sam. “You know if Dad was here, he’d whoop our asses.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean, it took you all of two seconds to love that girl.”

“Shut up.”

Sam chuckled, readjusting himself on the seat, taking one last look back at you, the feeling of pride that was blossoming in his chest was one that only a father could have. You’d made both of them proud - the way you could tell right from wrong as easily as breathing, sometimes even steering both of them on the right path when they wavered.

---

You had been brought up like a daughter under Sam and Dean, but you always knew it was out of the goodness of their hearts that they had taken you in, so you were always careful about making the right decisions. You had always called them by their names, and no one talked about what you all were to each other – you just knew you were family, and you loved each other.

As you were growing up, you had an unmistakable connection to Sam that you couldn’t really explain. Dean was just as protective over you and you knew he loved you under his gruff exterior but there was just something that made you naturally closer to Sam.

You looked up as you heard voices talking, getting up and peeping out from your room. You could hear it in Dean’s voice and it wasn’t good.

“We’ll deal with them but right now, you and me, we gotta go to Hell.” Dean’s voice travelled down the corridor.

You froze as you heard Castiel’s voice, “Woah. You do?”

“Jo said that’s where Ruby stashed the Occultum.” Sam explained.

You stood a little distance away but you could hear everything they were saying. “Ruby? The demon you were sexually intimate with?”

Your eyebrows shot up as you heard the disdain in Dean’s voice. “Sexually intimate?”

You didn’t like where this conversation was leading though, as you listened to Cas try to convince Sam and Dean that going to Hell wasn’t a good idea.

“We have to work with what we have. So we’ll go to Hell, you stay topside and keep that spell alive so we get back, alright?” Dean snapped, turning but freezing in his tracks when he saw you. “Hey kid.”

“Y/N?” Sam stepped out of the room they had been in.

Your expression must have betrayed you because Sam stepped towards you.

“Isn’t that too dangerous?” You asked, your eyes darting from Sam to Dean and back again.

Sam didn’t answer your question directly. “As long as the spell is kept alive here, Dean and I will be able to come back. No problems, okay?” he bent to look you in the eye.

You knew this was important. “Okay.” Your voice came out as a whisper.

As Sam straightened up, you looked up again. “Sam.”

You paused as he looked back down at you. “Be safe.” You whispered. Sam smiled and reached down to hug you. “You take care of things here, okay?”

You nodded before looking at Dean. “Don’t worry, kid.” Dean said, as he gave you a tight hug. “We’ll be right back.”

---

You sat with Castiel in the library, staring at the bowl that contained the spell that was Sam and Dean’s ticket back.

“So they made it? Sam and Dean are in hell?” Jack asked as he walked in.

You didn’t answer but Castiel spoke, “Yeah.” He paused. “There are too many holes in Jo’s story. Who was Ruby going to sell the Occultum to? Why didn’t Jo try to get it back?”

Your eyes flicked up now. “You think she’s lying?”

Castiel sighed, “I think we need to ask Ruby.”

“She’s dead.” Jack stated, confusion etched across his face.

“In the Empty.” Castiel clarified. “I need your assistance. Both of you.”

“Sure, anything.” Jack responded, as you knew he would.

Castiel stood, “I need you to kill me. Almost.”

“Wait.” You stopped him.

Castiel put a hand up. “Listen, if I’m at death’s brink, I should be able to put one foot in the afterlife and contact Ruby.”

Jack frowned and glanced at you. “Cas, the Empty doesn’t exactly like you, remember?”

“I’ll go.” You said, interrupting the conversation.

Castiel frowned at you. “No.”

“I’m half-demon, the same spell will get me to the same place. I’m a new face, the Empty doesn’t have a beef with me, and me being half-demon might be advantageous when I talk to this Ruby.”

Castiel hesitated, glancing at Jack.

“Besides, it’s safer that you’re here. What if you go and Jack and I can’t bring you back?” You argued. “If you’re here, I know that you’ll definitely be able to bring me back. Come on, Cas.”

Castiel looked at your determined expression and he knew that you were right.

“If this will help Sam and Dean, I’m doing it.” You stressed.

“Are you sure?” Jack asked, looking from you to Castiel.

Castiel glanced at you again and you nodded at him.

“You have one hour. That’s it.” Castiel said, looking slightly worried.

You nodded at him before turning to Jack. Jack hesitated but touched your forehead and you felt the breath knocked out of you, your life force being drained into a flask that he was holding out in front of you. The last thing you saw was Jack’s worried face before your eyes fluttered shut.

---

You found yourself surrounded by darkness. Utter pitch black. You could even feel your human half squirming.

“Ruby? Ruby? Can you hear me?” You called out, taking a few steps forward. You weren’t even sure if any of your powers would work here.

“Hello. You’re a new face.” A voice came out of the darkness and you spun around defensively.

A woman sitting on a chair facing you. “Why are you stomping around here looking for Ruby?”

You took a deep breath. “I’m here to fulfil a request ordered by Death.” You paused, narrowing your eyes slightly. “Are you the Empty?”

She let out a smile. “Oh, a smart one. Now, tell me. Why should I help you?”

You took another step forward. “I understand you and Death are working together.”

She sighed dramatically before pointing. You turned to see a ball of light, before it enlarged and a young woman took its place.

“Ruby?” You ventured, moving towards the new appearance.

She looked confused as she looked around before looking at you. “Where am I?”

“You’re dead.” You stated matter of factly.

Ruby’s eyes grazed over you and it bothered you that she seemed to be sizing you up. “I remember.” She finally said, “Are you?”

You shrugged, “Almost, I guess.” A beat of silence passed between the two of you. “Ruby, I’m looking for an object known as the Occultum. The angel Jo said that you hid it somewhere in Hell.”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Did she? That is so like her. Don’t you think it’s a little obvious for a demon to be hiding something in Hell?”

“I wouldn’t know.” You said, squinting your eyes at her. “Sam and Dean are searching there now.”

Her expression softened, “Oh, Sam. How is the big lug? I liked him.” Unconsciously, a low growl rose in your throat. “We had a good thing, until…”

Ruby paused. “Are you… You are, aren’t you?”

“What?” You snapped, your patience wearing thin.

“You’re half-demon aren’t you? You’re her.”

You froze. “You know me?”

Ruby looked at you. “Oh, you must be her. Sam must have found you. I’m glad he took you in, that’s so typical Sam.” You growled a little, getting annoyed.

“How do you know me?” You asked again, wary.

“Why, honey, don’t you recognise your mother?” Ruby drawled, a small smile playing on her lips.

If you had been holding something, you would have dropped it.

Your mouth opened but no sound came out as the conversation you had overheard this morning played in your head like a broken recorder.

Ruby? The demon you were sexually intimate with?

You looked at Ruby again and she answered the question you didn’t ask, “Yeah, honey, Sam’s your father.”

You swallowed, processing the information. You didn’t have a lot of time left in the Empty, you needed to get the information you came for.

“Listen, I don’t have a lot of time. Can we just…” You tore your eyes away from the woman, the demon, that had just dropped a bombshell on you, and pressed further. “When you went to Jo about the Occultum…”

“When I went to see her?” Ruby’s voice was scathing now and you looked back up. “She called me.” You listened, an uneasy feeling forming in your gut as you listened to Ruby give her account of what had really happened, how Jo had asked to see her, pitching her the idea to be in the safest place anyone could be in when Michael and Lucifer battled it out – the Occultum.

“It’s a place?” You asked incredulously.

Ruby looked straight at you. “Whatever you want to call it, it’s powerful. Anyway, we had a deal so I stashed it. I can tell you the location. But it’s definitely not in Hell.”

You tried to ignore the voice screaming in your head that Sam and Dean were in hell for nothing, stashing away the desire to kill Jo. “Does Jo know where it is?”

Ruby let out a dry laugh. “As if she could be trusted. But you can trust me.”

It was your turn to let out a laugh. “Because you’re my mother?”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Because I want a deal.” She paused. “I’ll help you on one condition. Get me the hell out of here.”

“What?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

“This place is full of sorrow and despair, playing over and over again.” Ruby spat.

You looked back at her helplessly. “There’s no way I can…”

“You’re connected. I bet Sam, Dean, Castiel, they’re all waiting for you at the other end. I just need you to try.”

You needed to get the information from her before time ran out. “Okay, I’ll try.”

Ruby leaned forward to whisper in your ear.

---

Jack cast a look at Cas, his eyes moving towards your limp form at the table before looking back at the bowl containing the spell that was Sam and Dean’s ticket back here. Just then, a whooshing sound signaled their return.

“Guys, you’re back!” Jack called as their eyes fell on your limp form.

“Jack? Cas? What the hell?” Dean stepped forward, his eyes trained on you.

“Y/N? Honey?” Sam was kneeling next to you. “She’s cold. What’s going on?”

Jack looked at them. “She’s dead… kind of.”

Dean looked worriedly at you, his eyebrows furrowed.

“What?” Sam spat.

Castiel stood. “The Occultum isn’t in Hell.”

Dean didn’t say anything but swung his head to Jack.

“Y/N went to the Empty. Hopefully... To find Ruby. Hopefully... To find out where this Occultum thing is located.” Jack frowned. “Hopefully...”

“That’s way too many hopefullys!” Sam raised his voice as Dean looked back at Castiel.

“Bring her back. Now!”

---

When Ruby pulled away, you studied her.

“But it’s true, what you said?” You asked. Ruby rolled her eyes. “I told you, you could trust me.”

You shook your head. “I meant what you said about… me…” Your voice trailed off.

Ruby smiled. “Oh darling, that is definitely true. I made sure Sam would find you. But the rest? That’s all him.”

With that, Ruby quietly disappeared into the darkness, smiling at you.

“Hey.” The Empty was back now. “Now, my turn.”

Your stomach did a nervous flip. You were now pretty sure none of your abilities would work here.

“You don’t get to come traipsing in as and when you like, so take this as a little punishment.” She fisted her hand into a ball and you felt a pain surge through your body, as if someone was squeezing your heart and your whole body.

You groaned, sinking to your knees.

---

Castiel glanced at Dean again. “Now, Cas!” He raised his voice.

Castiel nodded at Jack, who quickly picked up the flask, unscrewing it and holding it close to you, letting the lifeforce seep back into your body.

Dean watched helplessly as Sam tightened his hold on your arm.

Your eyes snapped open as you took a deep shuddering breath, coughing. You could still feel the lingering pain from the Empty’s hold on you.

“Y/N!” Sam called out, as you swiveled your eyes towards him, his face hovering above you – your father. Your actual father.

Dean let out a sigh of relief.

“You’re back.” You breathed, smiling at them.

“Are you crazy Y/N? What if this hadn’t worked?” Dean asked, staring straight at you like he did when you used to get in trouble. You looked at Sam whose worried expression was now being replaced with one of slight annoyance.

“But it did.” You stubbornly said. “I’d do it again.”

“You could have gotten yourself killed.” Sam said, causing you to fall back into silence.

You crossed your arms. “The Occultum was never in Hell.”

“We would have told you that if you had waited for us.” Sam said.

You shook your head continuing, “It’s apparently the safest place in the world. And I got the location.” You stared back defiantly at both of them.

“It’s a place?” Dean asked, frowning.

“Yeah.” You said. “Am I still crazy?” You asked, looking between both of them.

“Yes.” They both said in unison.

You rolled your eyes.

“Before we go, we need to talk.” Sam said, his stern voice telling you there was no room for argument.

You sighed and nodded. Sam looked at Dean who nodded at him. “We’ll find a way. Go.”

Sam stalked back towards your room, as you followed close behind.

“What were you going to do if you got stuck there?” Sam asked. “Y/N, I told you to think before you react. Always!” You could hear the genuine worry in his voice.

You didn’t respond immediately, just stepped forward and looped your arms around his torso, hugging him.

“I’m sorry…” You let a beat of silence pass before you said it, “Dad.”

You felt Sam freeze before he pulled away gently so that he could look at you. A small frown crossed his face. “Thought you didn’t like calling us that.”

You shrugged. “I thought you wouldn’t like it.”

You turned away. “I met Ruby.”

The thoughts you had pushed aside earlier were flooding your mind now. Sam and Dean had taken you in without knowing anything, without knowing who you were, where you came from and it was by sheer dumb luck that you had found out that Sam was your father. Your actual father. With that thought, a warmth spread in your chest.

Over the years, you had had your doubts about yourself. Sam always stressed that you were half human and that the human side of you could always choose to do the right thing. But you were never really sure, until now. You now knew why your human side could do the right thing, because your human side had come from Sam.

“Y/N?” Sam asked, you could hear him moving closer.

You turned around to face him. “She told me. About the both of you.” A look of knowing crossed Sam’s face. “That’s where I came from.” You whispered.

A look of shock crossed Sam’s face. “What?”

You frowned a little, trying to read his expression. “You don’t believe her?” You asked.

Sam shook his head. “No, I… I didn’t know.” He paused. “I think I finally understand the connection.” He smiled.

“Ruby wouldn’t lie from where she is. There’s no reason to.” Sam reassured you.

“Even if it’s a lie, is it wrong to want to believe in it?” You asked, dragging your eyes up to Sam’s.

“I believe it.” Sam whispered, bending down to give you a hug.

The one thing you knew for sure was that Sam had seen you as a daughter long before he knew you were his blood. Blood or not, he had loved you and that thought alone brought tears to your eyes.

“I’m glad it was you who found me.” You whispered. “Back then, when I was a baby... I’m glad it was you.”

Sam smiled back at you, affectionately tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Can I call you that?” You asked.

Sam smiled. “You can call me whatever you want.”

You nodded, “Thanks,” Reaching forward for him again, you whispered, “Dad.”

---

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jawritter · 4 years

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An Alpha And His Omega

Summary: Sometimes Alpha’s aren’t the assholes, sometimes words Omegas say things that can hurt too.

Written for: @flamencodiva and Diva’s Writing Challenge

Prompt: He was unconscious when I found him.

Warnings: Angst, virble arguments, the reader is a bitch of a bitch in this one, pining sickness, abo dynamics, sick!dean, language, smut, unprotected sex, knotting, claiming, scenting, protective Sam, (sam’s actually pretty scary in this one). I think that’s everything, sorry If I missed something.

Word count: 5860 (Whops)

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!reader

A/N: This fic was beta’d by @deanwanddamons! Thanks again love! Please do not copy my work! Hope you all enjoy this one!

***MASTERLIST*** ***BECOME A PATREON***

There wasn’t a word to describe how angry you were right now with Dean Winchester. If you were strong enough, you’d kick his ass, and even though you were in excellent shape for an omega, you still couldn’t hold a candle to the big, brooding Alpha.

Dean had been in a bad mood for weeks now. Well, months if you think about it. You’d known Dean for years, ever since you were kids growing up at Bobby’s while your father’s went on hunting trips together, and you always got along well enough, better than most unmated Alphas did with unmated Omegas.

You attributed that to the life the two of you lived. It wasn’t exactly ideal for having any sort of mate really, and you always took your suppressants when you were around Dean.

Then you met Jamie. He was a good guy, and an even better hunter. He had all the physical attributes you would look for in an Alpha, and he didn’t want to settle down and have a litter of pups. He literally just wanted someone he could trust to help him through his ruts, and you wanted someone to help you through your heats.

It was a win, win situation. You helped each other when you needed help, and went your separate ways without any attachments. You knew Jamie wouldn’t claim you, and you knew you could go through the physical work up without being attached to him. Without getting those dreaded feelings. When you started this little arrangement, you began to take a lower dosage of suppressants because it wasn’t good to take such a high dosage all the time, and with Jamie being on call you didn’t need to fight against your biology as much.

That’s when you started having trouble with Dean Winchester.

It began with the twenty questions every time you would leave and come back from being with Jamie for a few days. Then once, you caught him layering his scent on your clothes in your closet, like you wouldn’t notice. Then it was the constant pandering behind you. Wanting you to eat the food he’d bring you, or constantly checking in on you when you just wanted to be left alone.

Then it progressed to being a dick to Jamie when he’d come around on the rare off chance he wanted to hang out with you all at the bar. Tonight had been one of those nights, and it was an Alpha pissing contest between Dean, and an uninterested Jamie, who had just come there to drink.

Dean had stalked Jamie out to his car while you went to the bathroom before you were supposed to part ways with Jamie, but when you got out to the car you found Jamie on the ground, and a pretty amused Dean kneeling over him.

You were infuriated. Jamie had done nothing wrong, and as much as Dean denied it, you knew it was him that broke Jamie’s jaw tonight, not some random guy from the parking lot like Dean tried to say it was. If it wasn’t Dean, Jamie wouldn’t have broken off your arrangement when you dropped him off at home from the hospital, and had to call Dean to come and pick you up off the side of the road because it was too cold to walk across town.

“I swear Y/N, he was unconscious when I found him,” Dean said, trailing you as you walked into the library where Sam and Jack sat with a pile of books between them.

That was it, your last straw, between being an ass hole to your friend, and being as clingy as a newly mated Omega you had, had all of Dean’s shit you could take. Not even stopping to think about what was going to come out of your mouth, you rounded on the very surprised Alpha.

“Fuck off Dean!, I don’t know what your deal is, but I’m SICK to fucking death of you being up my ass all the time. Now you've gone and messed up a good arrangement because you're nothing but a pompous, self absorbed Alpha, who thinks he has some sort of claim on me because I live under his roof. Well guess what buddy, you don’t own me, I’m not your Omega, and never will be, your good for nothing but a breeder, and I’m not interested in getting knocked up any time soon, so stay the fuck away from me!”

The words had tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and the high pitched whine that seem to fall from deep inside of Dean’s chest as he staggered backwards away from you like you had burned with a brander, was almost as impressive as the surprising growl that came from Sam at the table. Even Jack jumped back and moved away from the three of you.

“I KNOW you just did not call my brother nothing more than a breeder,” Sam said through gritted teeth, using his impressive height to tower over you, and make your inner omega cower as you backed away from him. “I suggest you take your little, too good for a Winchester, ass to your room and leave my brother alone before I rip your fucking throat out. You’d be lucky to have an Alpha like Dean, but bitches like you don’t deserve the man he is.”

You could do nothing but back down and submit to the fuming Alpha, forgetting about Dean momentarily as he continued to whine like a dog that had been kicked while he retreated to his room, leaving you to Sam’s own devices. Jack stayed rooted to the spot he’d moved to when Sam had erupted from the table, taking everything in with wide, doe-like eyes.

“You know, you're lucky I don’t throw you out on your ass right now,” Sam said, stalking in front of you like he wanted to rip your head clean off your shoulders.You had never seen the younger Winchester so angry in your life. “Dean let you move in here, gave you a roof over your head, runs behind you hand over fist, and this is how you thank him? By calling him a breeder?”

“I’m sorry Sam, it just slipped out. After what he pulled with Jamie…”

“What did you think was going to happen, Y/N? Dean’s had a crush on you since we were barely teenagers, and when you stopped taking the suppressants it only got worse for him when he could actually scent you. Dean wouldn’t have hurt Jamie, because he doesn’t want to hurt you, and if he says he didn’t hit him, then he didn’t do it.”

You stood there, wide eyes staring at Sam in complete disbelief. Dean had a crush on you? It couldn’t be true, and if it was Dean had hidden it well. You had known him pretty much all your life, and while you always found him mildly clingy and annoying, it never even crossed your mind that Dean was harboring feelings towards you.

He was always a ladies man, the guy that could bed any girl he ever wanted, and you just never even suspected it.

“Sam, I…”

“Just, save it Y/N. But if I hear you talking to my brother like that again you're out of here. Got it?”

You nod, and make your way to your bedroom with your mind completely clouded and shock set deep in your bones. You paused outside of Dean’s closed door and started to knock on it, to apologize to him, but you just couldn't do it.

What if Sam was wrong, and you made a complete idiot of yourself? What if Dean didn’t like you, or have feelings for you at all? Hell, you weren’t even sure how you felt about him!

So you swallow hard, and keep walking, making your way to your own room, and drinking yourself to sleep with thoughts of Dean that you never let yourself think about before, rolling around in your mind.

The next few weeks in the bunker were tense to say the least. Dean barley left his room at all, and when he did he’d hardly speak to anyone, but he didn’t speak to you especially. Sam couldn’t even get him to go on a simple salt and burn with him upstate, Dean insisted he call Eileen to go with him.

Of course, Sam blamed you, and you felt that you deserved it.

Dean had a lot of good qualities. Sure, he could be a totally self absorbed asshat, but what person living and breathing, didn’t have their moments when they weren’t so fun to be around. Dean was loyal to a fault. Self sacrificing on a level you had never seen in anyone else, supernatural being or human. When he loved someone, he loved them completely. He gave more of himself than he rightfully should have had to in life, and that had its effect on him. It made him clingy and overprotective at times, and it made him a little bit of a pest, but looking back, you regretted ever saying that he was good for nothing but a breeder.

Dean Winchester was so much more than that. Sam was right, and the more you thought about it, the more right you discovered he was.

There was one side of Dean, a dark one that he carried from years of being in hell, becoming a knight of hell, and just having to grow up in this life in general, had left a stain on him. It told you not to challenge him, and not to push him right now. It said it in the way his body tensed every time you walked into the room since your little fight.

You wanted to apologize to him desperately, but you also didn’t want to push your luck with him, and get your ass kicked out. You were lucky you hadn’t had it done to you already.

This morning had started out just like any other. Sam had come back from his run, and was preparing his rabbit food, you were sitting at the table with a cup of coffee, and your laptop open, searching for a case, and everything seemed to be going on as it always did, everything but the blatantly empty space across the table from you that Dean normally occupied.

You suddenly lost your appetite for your coffee, or anything really, and pushed it away from you as Sam came and sat down at the opposite end of the table, his eyes scanning yours for a moment before he let out a long sigh, sitting his fork down and rubbing his hands over his face. The tension building in the room was almost tangible.

“I’m sorry Sam, I really am,” you finally tell him in a small voice, unable to look up in his eyes that you could feel staring back at you. “I didn’t mean what I said to Dean, I really didn’t. I was just so angry with him...I would go apologize to him, but I’m afraid he’ll try and take my fucking head off.”

“It’s not all you, Y/N,” he finally told you, running his fingers through his hair with a huff of irritation. “I probably made things worse when I exploded the way I did, and I’m sorry for that. I didn’t handle the situation properly. That’s on me.”

A long silence passed between the two of you, and it seemed almost deafening. Until, finally, Sam spoke again, his eyes lingering on the hallway leading towards Dean’s room as he did.

“It’s not like Dean to hide away like this. I’m worried about him. He’s close to his rut, and that’s why he was being clingy towards you. He was trying to get your attention. He hasn’t been himself ever since. I don’t think he’s really even eating.”

“Do you think it would help if I left, just packed my shit and got away from him?” you asked Sam, but he just shook his head before standing with his plate.

“No, I don’t think that’s going to solve anything. I do think that years of suppressants may have deadened your senses to what Dean’s sensing, and that you need to give Dean a chance. He very well could be your true mate, and you just don’t know it.”

You thought about that in silence for a moment before you were finally able to make your voice work again. Could Dean really have been your true mate all this time? It didn’t seem real to you. Dean had never shown that he was interested in you, until recently when Jamie came around, and you had stopped using such strong suppressants.

Then it hit you. The suppressants were as strong, and Dean was probably able to really scent you for the first time.

The lump that formed in your throat felt like it was going to choke you to death, but you swallowed it, and looked up at Sam, who was now leaning on the bar watching you.

“What do I do, Sam? Where do I go from here?” you asked him, tears burning just below the surface. You had never felt so much regret in your life. Your heart literally hurt.

“Trust your instincts Y/N.This may not be easy, but what in life worth having ever is?”

For most of the morning, you spent your time pacing your room and ringing your hands, trying to decide what to do. You knew you had to do something. Dean hadn’t even come out of his room this morning, and you were becoming more and more worried about him by the second.

Consulting a few lore books had told you that the theory you and Sam had come up with this morning was more than likely the case. It said that when you're on strong suppressants long enough it can mask your scent to your mate completely, or even hide you from your true mate. It said that once you got started with the matting process that instinct would take over, and the rise in your body temperature would burn off the suppressants totally, giving you the ability to scent him as strongly as he could scent you.

You had decided that since Dean’s weakness was food, you were going to fix him some of his favorite pie, and bring it to him as a peace offering and see where things go from there. You had no sooner got to the kitchen though, when Sam slid in and told you to come with him before scurrying off to Dean’s room with you hot on his trail.

“What’s wrong, Sam?” you asked as you skidded to a stop in the open door way of Dean’s room. Dean’s back was to the door, and the covers pulled high up almost over his head. Sam was kneeling down in front of his brother with his hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t know, he’s burning up,” he told you, and you made your way cautiously around the bed to look at the Alpha that you had literally never seen ill a day in his life. Yet here he was, laying on his side, sweat forming just at his hairline, checks inflamed with fever, and shivering lightly.

“Dean,” you say softly, afraid to touch him, but something draws you closer to him all the same. “Dean, what’s wrong?”

Dean’s darkened eyes looked up slowly to meet your gaze for a moment before he closed them again.

“What do you care,Y/N? All I’m good for is breeding right? So what’s one less Alpha in the world to you when you think I’m not worth your time anyway?”

If his words were intended to cut, then they did their job, because it took everything in you to hold back the whine that threatened to fall from your throat as his words seemed to slice into your very soul.

“Dean, come on, you know I didn’t mean it, I was just irritated with you and…”

“Save it, Y/N.” Dean said, not even bothering to open his eyes, and turning his back to you and Sam. Evidently, he was done talking.

“I’ll go call Jody, she may be able to tell us what’s going on with you,” Sam said, mouthing for you to stay here, and talk to his brother, earning him a death glare that you hoped showed him just how much you wanted to strangle him right now.

How the fuck where going to get Dean to talk to you if he didn’t want too? He was literally the most stubborn man you had ever met, and when he was done talking you couldn’t torture a word out of him.

‘Follow your instincts, Y/N,' you said to yourself. Taking a deep breath, you got up and went to sit on the edge of the bed close enough that you could feel the heat coming from his body.

“Dean, please, I’m sorry. I know you're mad at me, and you have every right to be. Please know that I didn’t mean a word that I said to you. You're a lot more than a breeder, and I’m sorry I ever said it to you.”

You got no response, and for a moment you wondered if he’d fallen asleep, until he rolled over to face you again. He looked so tired, so pale. You had never seen Dean this down. Not even when Sam jumped in the pit, and he ran off to Lisa.

“You remember when we were kids? You presented as an Omega and you were so angry about it. You were sure you were going to present as an Alpha,” Dean said, a ghost of a smile on his lips as a shiver ripped through his body. “ You told Bobby that your genetics were wrong, and you weren’t going to accept that you were an Omega.”

Your mind brought you back to that. You were sitting outside with Dean on the hood of an old Ford truck in the wrecking yard when you presented. You were so fucking angry. Now you just saw it as another sign of what should have been so obvious, but wasn’t until now, and you had to fight against the sting of tears that burned in your eyes.

“I remember. I was angry that I was going to spend my life as a pup factory for some dick Alpha, and I wouldn’t be able to hunt anymore.”

“You know, all you would have had to do was say the word, and I would have claimed you right there,” Dean said, causing you to stare at him in complete shock. Dean was a few years older than you, and had presented as Alpha long before you had presented at all, but to hear him say that outloud you nearly swallowed your tongue.

“I didn’t do it because I knew you would have resented me forever. You had so much pent up anger that I knew you needed to work through it before you were ever able to even think about something that extreme. You needed to find yourself, to have a life outside of being tied to another person. So I let you go.”

“Dean,” you tried to stop him before the water works could start, but to no avail, he just kept talking, like a pot that was boiling over with pent up emotions and there was just no stopping it.

“Then you left for a little while, but when you came back, I couldn’t scent you anymore. I didn’t understand what happened, so I just let it go, thinking that it was just young hormones raging that almost made me claim you. Then, when I had all but shoved every bit of feeling down that I ever had for you, you walked by me in a bar and I could scent you again, just as strong as I had that day. I knew I had to get your attention, but I was too late and you had Jamie.”

You looked away from him as the tears you had been holding back began to fall, unable to look at him anymore.

“I knew you didn’t feel for me what I’ve always felt for you Y/N, but I never expected you to see me as nothing more than a breeder, a mutt, a worthless piece of Alpha trash, nothing more than a knot. I never expected you to reject me this way.”

“Dean, I didn’t know, I swear I didn’t know,” you tell him through tears, but he just shivered again, letting his eyes close. The fever that was raging inside of him was making him exhausted, and even you could see it.

“Let me get you something to try and bring the fever down,” you tell him, but as you tried to stand his hand caught yours, stopping you in your tracks.

“Sam already did that, and it hasn’t worked. Just, stay with me, please,” he begged you.

Words failed you as your heart broke deep down inside of you, and you sat back down on the bed beside him, watching as his breathing evened out, and his shivering seemed to relax a little.

Of all the things that you thought would take Dean out, this was not the way you saw him going, and yet here you were, feeling so helpless and lost as you watched him sleep, praying Jody would have an answers to what was going on with him, because right now, it looked like Dean wasn’t going to be able to fight this fever off much longer, and you had a feeling it was only going to get worse.

You don't know how long you sat there next to Dean while he slept. It could have been fifteen minutes, it could have been three hours. You had no idea, because to you time seemed to have slowed to an unbelievable crawl.

You did notice that the more you played with his hair, and held his hand in yours, that his over stressed body seemed to relax more. If this was going to give them some measure of comfort, then so be it.

You never noticed until now that you had never really LOOKED at Dean. You never really paid that much attention to just how painfully handsome he was. Even for the line of work you guys did, he had surprisingly very few scars on his face, and the ones he did have only seemed to attribute to his already ruggedly handsome face. The sun kissed skin, and the light dusting of freckles everywhere contrasted one another, but in a good way, it gave him an almost boyish look while he was relaxed and asleep like this. His strong, sharp jaw still held enough of an edge of softness to it that you found yourself wanting more than ever to touch his face, to feel the stubble that was actually a light beard at this point, under your fingers.

His plump, pink lips were parted slightly, and even though his breathing was still coming in pants more than completely normal breaths, he looked peaceful.

You were so entrapped staring at him, that when Sam came skidding to a halt in the door way you nearly fell off of the bed when he spoke in a voice so loud it almost disturbed Dean, who shifted a little in the bed to subconsciously get closer to you, and away from the noise.

“Y/N! Jody says she thinks she knows what the problem is…”

“SHHH!!!” you tell him, adjusting the covers over Dean’s shoulders, and gave Sam a stern look. Sam mouthed “sorry,” before coming closer to you and clearing his throat as he came to the other side of the bed.

“Jody thinks she knows what’s wrong with him,” Sam said a little calmer, pulling a chair to sit down next to Dean’s bed.

“Okay...we’ve established that. Wanna tell me what it is, or you gonna make me try and guess it?” you tell him, quickly getting annoyed that he seemed to have forgotten you couldn’t read minds.

“Right, sorry. She thinks that when you two got in a fight a few weeks ago, that the rejection triggered pinning sickness. It’s rare for Alpha’s, but apparently can sometimes happen when you get rejected by your true mate. I looked it up, and he has every symptom. Fever, weight loss, loss of appetite, increased irritation and moodiness, vomiting…”

“Vomiting? When was he vomiting?” you cut in, and Sam gives you an apologetic look.

“Yesterday, he told me not to tell anyone, and that he’d just eaten something bad. Obviously he was covering up the fact that he was in this bad of a shape, which is normal for Dean. Downplay everything until you can’t do it anymore.”

Shaking your head in annoyance, you brush it off to bitch about it later. You hated it when Dean did shit like that. He was allowed to have bad days, just like everyone else was, and you absolutely hated it when he downplayed what he was really feeling.

“So what do we do?” you ask him, and Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat before meeting your gaze, taking a moment to put his hand over his brother’s forehead to gage his temperature before answering you.

“Well, everything I can find and know about pinning sickness is that close contact with your true mate helps. Like now just from you playing with his hair, and holding his hand like that his temperature seems to be down a good bit. In order for him to get fully past it, you're going to have to let him claim you.”

You tried to hide just how terrifying that thought was to you. To have a mate in this life, to have someone tided to you, to put each other in danger, much less it be a fucking Winchester. This was something you never wanted, but now that he brought it up, you couldn’t help but picture yourself with Dean, maybe even with a pup on your hip that would have brilliant green eyes, just like his father.

“You think he will go for it?” you asked Sam. No one knew Dean better than Sam, and you were not sure how to even begin to have this conversation with Dean after what you had told him. After how you had hurt him.

“I think you won't have to ask him twice,” Sam said, standing up and making his way to the door. “Just, don’t hurt him again, okay? Cause I don’t think he can live through another disappointment.”

You couldn’t make your voice work properly for the tears that were threatening to fall if you tried to speak, so you just nodded your head and continued running your fingers through Dean’s short hair as he slept next to you.

“Wait until he wakes up, let his body recover some, when he does he should be ready,” Sam said before closing the door, and leaving you alone with Dean.

Dean slept for probably another three hours before he even began to stir again, but you could tell by the way he moved and felt when you touched him that his fever was almost gone completely.

You watched as he stretched next to you, and cracked his eyes open to find you still there next to him, then you watched as the look of relief of finding you turned into fear and rejection in what seemed like seconds. It made your heart seize in your chest to think that you had hurt him that badly.

“Good morning handsome,” you try and tease him, but Dean just pulls his hand away from yours, and pulls the covers tighter around himself.

“Morning,” he said simply, avoiding your gaze.

“How do you feel?” you asked him, and he just shrugged, continuing to stare at the wall opposite him.

“Better.You can go now, you don’t have to sit with me, I”m sure you’d rather go and try to talk to Jamie anyway,” Dean said, and you swore you could hear a whine behind his words.

You weren’t going to let him push you away now, not when you had already made up your mind that this is what you wanted, and had always wanted. Even when you were running the bars with him, it had always been Dean that you really wanted, you were just too afraid to admit it.

“I’m not going anywhere Dean,” you tell him, pulling the covers up and sliding in next to the evidently shocked Alpha, who grunted, but didn’t fight you as you snuggled into his arms and close to his broad chest where his heart was hammering away at his rib cage at the close contact of you with him.

Once you saw that he wasn’t going to physically kick you out of his bed, you took the only moment of bravery you were sure you were going to find, and brushed your lips lightly over his mating gland in his thick neck, scenting him deeply, pulling a curse and a shiver from his broad body as he pulled you impossibly closer to him.

“Fuck baby, don’t do that,” he grunted as your teeth lightly grazed the skin of his pulse point, and his hands slid down to grip your hip tightly. “If you start this, I’m not gonna be able to stop, and I...I don’t want you to be tied to someone who is nothing but a breeder, when someone is out there a lot better than me, someone that can give you a stable home and a family.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh you kick yourself again for ever calling him that, reaching up to brush your hands through his hair as he tried to nuzzle himself into your hand. His words were telling you to walk away, but everything in his was screaming for you.

“Dean, you're not just a breeder, I told you, I was just angry, you're so much more than that. I wish you could see what I see in you.”

Dean swallowed thickly and looked away from you, but you weren’t going to let him drop it that easy.

“You’re so strong Dean. Most people that have gone through half the shit you’ve faced in life would have killed themselves by now, and look at you! You’re still here, as many things that have tried to kill you, you’re still here! You’re a fucking hero, you’ve saved countless people time and time again. You love with your whole heart, you’re loyal and protective, you’re everything any Omega would want in an Alpha and then some, so don’t ever think you’re just a knot, but you’re so much more than that, and I’m so sorry that I didn’t see it sooner.”

Dean didn’t say anything, and you could see that he was shutting down, so you did the only thing you knew to do. Taking a deep breath you steel your nerves, and placed a timid kiss to his still slightly parted lips. For a moment, he just froze, but it didn't take long for the tidal wave of emotions to come crashing down over the two of you.

You weren’t really sure of a lot of things . There was so much unknown in every aspect of your life, so you just never expected anything to be constant, not for you, you would die alone on the end of a gun, knife, or at the hands of some freak, and that was the only thing in life you would ever be able to count on. But right now, in this moment, you couldn’t see anything past the two of you, two halves that had fought against becoming whole for so long that the relief was almost insurmountable and indescribable.

As tender, scared kisses turned into more needy and demanding kisses filled with passion and fire that seemed to source down to your very soul. Clothing began to fall to the floor, and shy little touches became rough and more determined. You were sure that this was the piece of your life that had always been missing.

Dean was still fairly weak from days of being sick, but the more his bar skin touched yours, the more his lips and teeth trailed their way down your throat, and over your mating gland, the more his body seemed to come alive again. Yours wasn’t that far behind either, slick quickly coating your thighs as your body seemed to know what your mate needed before you ever could have guessed it, and that was to become connected to you as quickly as possible. Years of waiting made the heated kisses and touches seem that much more intense, and as Dean slid his length fully inside of you without hindrance, you could have sworn you felt the world stop turning.

Most of the time, from what you had been told, when soul mates actually mate and are claimed by their mates it’s a rough and primal act that’s over as fast as it begins. This was so much different than that. It was deeper, more sensual that you would have ever thought to be possible. Every deep thrust of his cock into your waiting heat that was already trembling around him as he stretched and filled you over and over again felt as if it were connecting you at a level deeper than the physical pleasure that was raging through your bodies like a brush fire in the burning summer heat.

He never tried to flip you over like you expected him to, and demand you present like most Alpha’s would have, but instead he held his body over yours with his powerful arms and shoulders balancing his weight so that he wouldn’t hurt you, but kept you facing each other so that he could watch you as you began to get closer and closer to your release, as your body shuttered underneath him as his knot began to swell and catch at your entrance, forcing thrust to turn into deep rutting push and pull that only served to push you both over the edge you had been teetering on.

Even as his teeth sank deep into your mating gland, connecting you to him at your very soul, you had no regrets except that you had waited this long to figure out what had always been there, and had always been missing.

Dean flipped the two of you carefully to your sides as you waited until his knot had gone down, playing with your hair, and licking lightly at your claiming mark, while you tried to catch your breath, letting the bond cement itself as it only could between an Alpha, and his Omega. Suddenly, all the things you had always feared, a life, a family, didn’t seem so scary. Not as long as Dean was there with you each step of the way.

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winterscaptain · 4 years

Text

when you wake up.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: i’m a sucker for protective aaron, alright? sue me. i have checked and double checked, but if i’ve messed up any gender-neutralisms, please let me know! i’d like to thank snow, the academy, and my welbutrin for their spiritual aid as i write these fics at an alarming rate rating/words: teen / 2642 warnings: canon-typical injury, swearing, kissing

AO3 | Masterlist | Requests Open!

+++

“You know –“ you gasped, grimacing through the pain, “blood is a bitch to get out of a wool blend.”

Aaron pressed his lips together, his forearms flexing as he staunched the bleeding from the gunshot wound in your shoulder with his gorgeous navy pinstripe blazer.

That one was my favorite, you thought with a pout.

He had you propped against a wall, his shirt splattered with your blood. He had torn the collar of your shirt for better access to your wound, and your vest was entirely forgotten on the floor beside you. Emily called the paramedics about seven minutes prior, but the backroads of Montana were not conducive to prompt medical service.

The pain wasn’t unbearable, and surely you’d been through worse.

Shock is a hell of a drug.

Nevertheless, his concern was touching. It had been a while since either one of you were injured – long before you realized you had feelings for each other and did absolutely nothing about it.

It all happened so fast – you had your gun trained on the unsub, who was using the sixth almost-victim as a shield. As soon as Derek and Aaron threw the back door open, he’d shoved the frightened young woman toward Derek and moved really quickly.

Bang. Ouch. Fuck.

“Aaron.”

He didn’t respond and was dutifully ignoring your eyes, focused entirely on the blood gushing through his fingers under your shoulder blade. The hand attached to your injured arm wrapped around his bicep, your fingers clinging to the fabric of his sleeve.

“I’m fine,” you continued. “It’s through and through. Six weeks tops I’ll be back to my old tricks.”

You brought your other hand to his hair, and he leaned into your touch almost unconsciously. Your thumb smoothed over the hair at his temple, where tiny silver streaks rested in the inky black. You were just teasing him about his greys last week.

“They make you look distinguished!” You insisted. You were behind him as he sat at his dining room table, helping Jack set the table for dinner while Aaron tried (in vain) to review a consult.

“They make me look old,” he retorted in a deadpan.

You raked your fingers through the hair at his temples, massaging his scalp all the way to the crown of his head. He leaned back, his hand relaxing around his pen. With a final pat to the top of his head, you stepped away and returned to the pasta sauce.

“No old man would cook as badly as you do.”

His withering glare made his son laugh out loud, and the look only grew darker as you offered Jack a high-five.

“You’re still losing a lot of blood.” His voice was low and tense, his jaw tight.

Derek hovered nearby, though Aaron had shooed him away minutes earlier. He was talking into the comm, likely getting status updates from EMS.

Offering Derek a weak smile, you let your hand drop to Hotch’s wrist. Your eyes were heavy, but you fought to keep them open. Falling unconscious now would only worry him more.

“Aaron, you need to breathe.”

He huffs, and it’s almost a laugh but there’s no humor in it. “You’re telling me to breathe?”

“I’m breathing just fine.” And you were, focused only on the feel of his hands on your skin and the slow, deep breaths you took to keep your oxygen levels high as your blood pressure dropped. “Breathe with me, please. It’ll make me feel better.” That was a low blow, but you were pulling every card you had to keep him from breaking his teeth with that clenched jaw.

God, you were just so tired.

Aaron’s brown eyes flickered up to yours and softened. He leaned forward, shifting his weight and wrapping an arm around you as sirens faintly wailed some distance away. “Lean into me. It’s okay. You can sleep. I’ve got you.”

You were cheek-to-cheek when you finally passed out, succumbing to the heaviness.

+++

When you woke up, your shoulder ached, and the lights were way too bright.

There was a weight dipping the mattress on your left side and a dark shadow on your right.

You lifted your head slightly to see Aaron fast asleep, his head resting on his arms. You smiled and redirected your attention to your right. The dark shadow was Emily, watching you with a soft smile.

“Hey, champ.”

“Hey Em.”

She gestured to Aaron with her chin. “He hasn’t left once.” There was an implication behind her words, something not-quite suggestive, but understanding.

You ignored it for now. “How long was I out?” You brought your hand to Aaron’s tense shoulder, relaxing there, your thumb tracing back and forth over his baby blue button-down. Your IV line pulled a little, and you retracted your hand to his bicep.

“About two days. Surgery went really well – they just had to patch up a couple of ligaments and set a few pins in your clavicle. Nothing shattered, and no fragments. All things considered, really clean shot.”

Not as bad as I thought.

“He’s been here the whole time? Are we still in Montana? What day is it?”

Emily laughed, smiling broadly. “So many questions!” She counted off on her fingers. “His ass has only left that chair to chase down your doctor and go to the bathroom like...twice. We are still in Montana. It’s Tuesday. We’ll be on our way home as soon as you’re discharged. We wouldn’t leave without you.”

You sighed, adjusting your position on the bed. “Thanks.”

She winked.

Hotch stirred, and Emily stood.

“I’ll leave you two for now. We’re all out in the waiting room if you want to see anyone.” She kissed your forehead and slipped out, closing the door behind her.

You could see the exact moment he registered your hand on his shoulder. He startled, straightening faster than you could blink. His eyes still bleary from sleep, you watched as he took stock of your entire person, finally meeting your eyes.

“Hi, Hotch.”

“Hi.” He reached for your hand with both of his, careful of the IV in your forearm. He brought your linked hands to his lips - warm, relieved breath washing over your fingers.

You squeezed once, feeling the stress and worry in his grip. “I’m okay.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry I got shot.” Your voice was soft, but the humor behind it was unmistakable.

He huffed a laugh against your hands. “I should be mad at you.”

“You aren’t?”

Just then, a twinge in your shoulder made you wince. Your face crinkled up before you could hide it.

Hotch immediately reached for the call button, his body arcing gracefully over yours, pressing it twice. He looked down at you from under his arm. “No, I’m not.”

The nurse came in, said something about how nice it was to see you awake, and administered some more pain medication. She worked around Hotch, who never let go of your hand.

You had your eyes on him the whole time. His hawkish brown eyes tracked everything – the dosage, the IV drip – until the nurse left the room.

Right away, you started feeling heavy, your eyes slipping closed. “I don’t - I don’t wanna sleep,” you mumbled.

The back of Hotch’s hand traced the line of your cheek in a gentle caress. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you felt his touch fall down your good arm and wind your fingers together. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“You should get s’m sleep.”

You weren’t sure if it was the haze of meds or not, but you could swear you felt kisses to each one of your fingertips before you slipped into unconsciousness once more.

+++

When you woke again, he was still there. He was kicked back in the recliner this time, a book in his lap and reading glasses perched on his nose. It was dark outside, and you surmised you’d been asleep for a couple of hours.

“Since when do you wear reading glasses?” Your voice was rough with sleep.

Hotch snatched the glasses in question off his nose and folded them into his collar. “I don’t, usually, but the fluorescents are hard on my eyes after a while.”

You nodded sagely before breaking out into a smile. He offered you one back, one of those sweet, crooked, closed-mouth tip-ups.

Those might be my favorite.

You shifted, scooting over in the hospital bed and raising the head with the remote so you could sit up with more ease. Hotch stood, and you could tell he was trying to give you space as you independently adjusted your surroundings.

You patted the bed next to your hip, and he gingerly sat beside you, crossing his ankle over his opposite knee. He probably didn’t realize, but his entire body was bowed toward you, from his toes to his shoulders. You had always been tuned to each other, like finely-made instruments.

There was so much to say, so much unsaid. This injury was pretty far from a near-death experience, but it was enough to screw your head on straight a little bit.

“Aaron, I --“ You stopped, not sure where to begin. You rested a hand on the knee within your reach, tracing absentminded circles on the grain of his jeans.

Almost three days in the hospital and he’s still wearing jeans.

Well...at least it’s not a suit.

“Why did you stay?” Your words left you without your permission, but maybe it was better that way.

His brow lowered. “It’s my job.”

Your lips tipped up in a small, wry smile. “Bullshit.”

He heaved a sigh. “Fine. I felt...compelled to make sure you were alright.” His eyes were cast down toward the heavy white blanket beneath him. “Every time I got up to leave, I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave you knowing you could wake up and I wouldn’t be there.”

You were acutely aware of the dopey grin on your face.

He looked up at you. “It doesn’t make any sense I know –“

“Aaron.” You stopped him with four fingers pressed to his mouth. It was the first time you’d actually instigated contact with his mouth. You felt the stubble that was rapidly turning into a proper beard, but you were focused on the softness of his mouth. You softened, letting your hand relax against him. “It makes sense to me.”

There was silence for a moment. You just stared at each other, your hand still over his mouth. You were glad your heart rate stayed steady, as the beeping was one of the only sounds in the room.

“Hey, Aaron?” Your fingers weren’t really tracing his lips, but they weren’t...not doing that either.

He smiled and spoke from behind your fingers. “Yeah?”

“The spot between my shoulders is insanely itchy.”

He shook his head, exasperated, and pulled your fingers from his mouth. “Lean up for a second.”

You did, and he pulled a pillow from behind you and put it in your lap. You wrapped your good arm around it and ducked your head down. His fingers massaged across your good shoulder and neck, releasing some of the tension there.

He laughed aloud when you made a (frankly) obscene noise when he hit a particularly sore spot.

“You’re giving my physical therapist a run for his money, Aaron.”

“Good.”

He moved down underneath the sling strap, gently running his nails back and forth over the skin peeking through your hospital gown. It was heaven.

“Okay, you can’t ever stop doing that.”

He continued, scratching lightly up and down your spine “I’m here as long as you want me here, sweetheart.”

The endearment made your heart feel all fuzzy, and you relaxed further into the pillow, your body relaxing as the tension melted out of your back.

He stopped after a few minutes, just smoothing his hand back and forth along the left side of your back. “Feeling better?”

“Much, thank you,” you said, leaning back against the pillows.

He brushed some hair away from your face and hesitated there for a moment. Your jaw fit a little too neatly in his hand. You licked your lips, finding your mouth suddenly dry.

“Y/N...” he said, still quiet.

You shook your head and leaned forward at the same time he did. You met halfway, and he captured your lips with a relieved sigh. He was so careful with you, considering your injury, one hand reaching from your jaw to the side of your head, the other resting on your thigh on top of the thin hospital blanket.

The faded smell of his cologne or deodorant or something very masculine swirled around you. It was a smell you could identify anywhere – something spicy and earthy and Aaron.

Your noses slid against each other as you pulled apart to grin at each other. He pulled you back toward him and your lips met again. Your breath caught as his tongue traced your lower lip. You granted him access, ignoring the embarrassing spike in your heart rate that sent the monitors into a frenzy.

A part of you absolutely wanted to jump him then and there, but between your shoulder and the big window facing out into the hallway, that was a no-go.

You settled for devouring him from where you were instead, taking his lips between your teeth until he was groaning into your mouth. His hands knotted in your hair and you twisted his shirt in your hand. You didn’t think too much about the fact you’d been asleep for two days and therefore had two days of morning breath. The only thing on your mind was the taste of coffee on Aaron’s tongue, the hand planted firmly on your thigh, and the surprising softness of his lips.

It’s not that you thought he’d be a bad kisser, but fuck he was good at it. Almost too good. You craved more and damned your shoulder (again) for keeping you tethered to this bed and unable to wrap him in your arms.

“God,” he whispered into your mouth. “I was so scared I was going to lose you.”

You laughed into him, nipping at his lip again. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

There was a desperate edge to his touch as he took your face between his hands and pulled back to look at you. He kissed you once. Twice. So gently you almost couldn’t feel it. “I’m never getting rid of you,” he said. “Not now, not ever.”

It took you a couple of seconds to open your eyes again. When you did, the warm brown of Aaron’s eyes sank into you, and you almost forgot you’d been shot less than 72 hours prior. “Am I nuts to tell you how much I love you when I’m hopped up on pain meds?”

He shook his head, a thousand-gigawatt smile eating up his whole face. You cupped his jaw in your hand, pressing your thumb into one of his dimples. He tenderly covered your hand with his and turned to press an achingly gentle kiss your palm. “Only a little,” he said. He guided you back onto the pillows, arranging them around you so you could sleep without jostling your shoulder.

The nurse bustled back in and asked after your pain level. You said seven (it was a lie, you’d give it a nine and a half if you weren’t trying to be a hero), and she administered another round of meds. She swept out of the room and your eyes started to close again.

“Aaron...” you whispered, clinging to the last dregs of consciousness.

A kiss to your forehead. Warm breath over your fingers.

If safety had a texture, it would be somewhere between the callouses on his hands and the cool cotton of his dress shirts.

“I’m here.” A pause. “Hey.”

You cracked an eyelid.

“I love you too, by the way.”

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @octothorpetopus @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @saintd0lce @good-heavens-chris-evans

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch #tali writes fanfiction #i'll have you know hotch autocorrected to hot chip no less than three times while writing that last tag

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beni-draw-ikemen-please · 3 years

Text

ALMOST HER

All my TWST works will reference my original long fic of my OC, Asami and Leona Kingscholar. But this is a Jack x Asami oneshot.

Tho, it's the same universe.

Word Count: 2632

Rating: M/F Explicit

Tags: Phone Sex, Angst and waiting, Hurt, Almost, Sad Sex, Masturbation

Almost Her

It took Jack a long time to settle in with the idea. It took him, to be quite exact, five years, to get comfortable with the idea. That the girl he’s fallen in-love with, is desperately in love with someone else. The moment he offered his help, and the moment he asked Leona Kingscholar for help, it was the thing he wished he could rewind and do over. It helped that they were in the same year, he had more opportunities to be with her —more activities, more classes together. He didn’t fall in love at first sight, no. It was a gradual, slow and painful process that he tried to wash away with harder physical, magic and mental training.

And though he didn’t voice any of his feelings out loud, the way his tail would wag whenever she was nearby, the way he would support her, in every little thing he could possibly insert himself into, and to everyone who knew him and to everyone who knew her— his deeds, and body language was enough to know. Jack Howl was crazy about her. But he made the choice to stand by.

No one knew what Leona Kingscholar thought of the prefect; but the whole of Savanaclaw knew at one point in time; the old dorm leader’s scent was all over her. Like a fence of protection, a spell to ward off everyone else.

Hands off.

She’s mine.

Don’t fuck with her, or—

It was difficult to imagine the then-prefect to say those things out loud but to the beastmen at Night Raven, it was easy to see and it was crystal clear. And to Jack, he wasn’t even half the man Leona was. At least he thought that way, back then. But he made sure he was there for her. When he was being difficult. When he was moody and he’d not come to see her for days. And when finally, he graduated.

Leona had spoken to her directly, about how he cannot bring her anywhere. About how he cannot be responsible. About how, she can disappear at any given time without any kind of notice and that he didn’t want to be a part of any of it.

That their school romance was just that.

And when he finally made the decision to graduate, to leave Night Raven, and leave everything that was holding him back — for an acclaimed apprenticeship — for a chance to travel the world and hone his knowledge and magic further — he decided that she didn’t have any part in it.

They weren’t official together, no. And Asami was okay with that. He wasn’t some definition of a lover, protector or boyfriend but she knew she was his. And in her heart she’d do anything— she was willing to stay for him.

It was difficult for Jack to see her heart broken. She barely said anything. She was quiet for weeks. And every now and then, when he would check up on her in the middle of the night, though he knew she was able to cry the softest way, without letting any other soul know, he knew. He could hear it in her uneven quiet breathing and the way she’d gasp so deeply, almost sounding as if she’ll be choking next. But she’ll suck through her teeth, and with a trembling breath out, he’d close his eyes and sit outside with a thick jacket to keep himself warm. Jack Howl didn’t know what to do.

Most nights, all he could ever do is just be the secret witness to how hard and how quietly she cried for him. And he would feel a tight clench on his chest, how his heart ached for her.

How heavy it must have felt. How alone she must have felt.

Jack Howl watched from a distance. A girl so beautiful, but desperately in- love with a man who couldn’t even turn his back to apologise.

A man who never called, never visited.

A man he admired, he respected and loathed all at the same time.

Sometimes they would get together. And he would let her lean against his shoulder. And he would be still, he would be quiet. He would let her relax as she was able to be around him. For that, he is thankful. At least, he could be useful for her. At least, he is a friend.

At least he could be trusted.

Though his breath got caught between his throat and teeth whenever she smiled back at him, though his hands trembled with desire to touch her— and even though he pictured her, needy and naked and flushed under his own body, during nights where he felt like he would crumble, and explode, and break into pieces— he was thankful she let him be near.

He was thankful she looked at him with affection. Even though he knew, that affection can never pass the borders of friendship, or brotherly love of whatever it is that she felt for him.

He didn’t want to know. All he knew was that he thought of her as he woke in the morning, and his sighs before he slept were all because of her.

He hoped graduation would let him release himself from the shackles of this unrequited crush. He had hoped for many things. He hoped focusing on university and eventually, a job would help him ease the burden of her smile on his mind.

The scent of her that always stayed with him, he could never forget. But, no.

Jack only pushed harder. And the more he grew as a magician, the more he grew as a man, the more his heart grew heavier for her. The more his body craved to touch her.

The king of Afterglow took her under his protection, and he was relieved. Though the thought of her living close to the Kingscholars made his insides queasy and burn— he made time— every week, if not, every other, to be there and make sure she was okay.

Work made her grow into an even more beautiful woman and Jack almost forgot to breathe sometimes. How beautiful she seemed to him. How lovely it was and how lucky he felt to be able to witness her change and grow as he did. He was thankful she allowed him to be close.

They were friends, above everything else. Even though Jack wanted more, he never overstepped the boundaries they set up together unconsciously. And Asami would tell him about her life there and the library and the people she worked with. The Kingscholar cousins she became friends with. And he tells stories of university. Not much of it, to be honest. But Asami was intrigued and she was always there to listen to him.

They never talk about Leona.

But from time to time, there would be a pause and he’d ask if she was okay.

She would chuckle, the softest chuckle he knew and he would always remember.

And she’d assure him she was okay, and that she’s trying her best.

It took Jack years to finally be comfortable with verbalising his feelings towards her. Years, many years before he was comfortable to be affectionate. He’d pick her up Friday nights and they’d enjoy each other’s company until it got late. Sometimes, he’ll bring Deuce and Epel along and they would all watch a movie after having dinner. It was easier for them to travel to Afterglow, and she had a tendency to work late.

She never really changed - Jack thought to himself.

And yet, all the same, she was a whole new person each time he came to visit.

Slowly— he hoped it wasn’t just his imagination— but slowly, Leona’s name seemed to disappear from her lips. He felt the vestiges of Leona Kingscholar slowly leaving her space.

Slowly, slowly there seemed to be healing and a new beginning.

He didn’t really ask her directly but he could somewhat feel it.

She seemed happier and the aura around her seemed lighter.

Every now and then she would touch his arm whenever he mentioned anything that made her laugh, and though he didn’t want to think more of it, bit by bit, it gave Jack the courage to maybe, just maybe, try again.

Try to win her affection. Try to express himself and how he felt.

How he feels.

He would call, sometimes late in the evening. And she would let him linger. Even as she got under her covers, and relaxed, she’d leave the phone next to her and he would be on the other line. He would be quiet and he would listen to her breathing. He wouldn’t do anything, no.

At least, not when she’s still awake. He couldn’t remember when it started, but it just happened. And Jack was careful not to overstep the boundaries.

He was careful. Somewhat.

But he’ll know when she’s asleep. Her breathing would be quiet, and there would be long pauses between her breaths. And he’ll be thankful if her phone won’t die — he can listen to her breathing as his hands run across his own chest. He’d held her hands before, once or twice, and they were a lot smaller, a lot smoother than his own. But the sound of her breathing let him imagine.

That she was there, sleeping next to him. He’d dreamt of her so many nights, so many times, and each time would give him momentarily release.

How she’d sit on top of his hips, wearing nothing but a silk one piece. He thought the colour peach or a very light pink would suit her. Even thought he knew she’d definitely pick a black one. He’d close his eyes and she would be there. She would be so shy, her face would easily turn so red, and though he never had the chance to admit it, he loved that look on her face.

Her hands would rest on his abdomen, and she would move her hips, slowly grinding against his cock. He would rest his hands on her thighs, encouraging her to keep going. It wouldn’t take long before his cock is throbbing. Just the sight of her like this was enough, just the thought of her was more than enough.

“Jack—

There was something about the way she called his name. Something so gentle and sensual about her lips slightly parting to call out to him. He loved the way she did.

She used to call him “Jack-kun,” but as they graduated, she dropped the honorific and just settled with Jack. Though he couldn’t bring himself to call her by just her name, he settled with “Asami-san,” and he remembered the first time he stopped calling her kantokusei. The blush on her face was unforgettable. Like they’ve unlocked a new level in their friendship. He was thankful. He was always thankful for her.

And he was especially thankful for the Asami that’s now pulling her onepiece above her head. She slowly reached up for an encouraging wet kiss. And Jack let himself come undone. His hands, calloused and trembling, squeezing her ass tight. Pulling her closer to him.

“Asami,” her name disguised under a low growl and a moan. A call to her. A soft call to her; in hopes that someday she’ll realise how much she drove him mad during nights like these. How much she drove him to his limits. Limits he never knew existed. And with her patience towards Leona Kingscholar—diligence, loyalty and dedication, he learned. And he did, for her.

She was asleep already, but Jack could still hear her breathing. And the soft ruffling of the sheets around her turned his illusion into something palpable. Something he could almost touch and taste. Something that’s almost her.

Almost her.

His Asami looked directly into his eyes, eyes begging for a release just as he was. And he pushed himself up with his elbows, and with a swift motions, gently brought her on her back underneath him. Careful calloused and gentle fingers holding onto her breasts. A tight squeeze, and she let out a moan, and Jack almost forgot how to even breatht. He didn’t think he could allow himself to be this rough with her, but now that she is here it was painful to even try to hold himself back.

And his Asami would smile at him, her face ever so red. Her gentle hands lead him around the fullness of her breasts. And then down to her waist. Her other hand held on to his forearm for support, bracing herself for the waves of pleasure to come as Jack lowered his hands from her waist to her lower abdomen, and then towards the inside of her thigh. And though he hoped to last longer, and give himself a much needed tour or her body, he couldn’t wait.

There was no finesse, no sidestep to how he unleashed his cock - ready for her as she was ready for him. Her wetness came in contact with two digits eager to feel her heat. She was so beautiful to him, and Jack could only hold out for so long before he smoothed his hands underneath her thighs to push her legs up and open.

There was a hitched cry, and a grip around his forearm as he pushed himself inside her. Hard, so so hard and big, Asami can only let herself cry out. And Jack—Jack very much wanted to move but he needed to be patient. He let her settle with him slowly pushing himself inside, relishing the feeling of just being inside her.

Being this close.

He very much wanted to move, but the sensation and the thought of her there, made it impossible for him to even continue. He could come, any time. The way she clenched around him made Jack’s knees quiver; made the hair on the back of his nape stand up. She drove him to hid edge, one place he never knew existed.

“J—,

She tried to call out to him, but she only held onto his arm tighter. Seemingly pulling herself out of there, out and away from him. But Asami tried to relax. Relaxed her head back down and looked straight into his eyes. Biting her lower lip as her breathing evened out.

He wanted to tell her to relax, that he will eventually be able to go in all the way. He didn’t want to be impatient, he didn’t want to be rough, no. Not with her, not ever. But the heat spiraling from his chest to his cock was just growing out of control. He needed her, so very desperately.

Only a few pumps.

It took him only a few arrhythmic pumps and his load was all over his sheets. His Asami, somewhat sublimating into thin air along with his silent release. Jack Howl buried his face onto his pillow with a low growl and a groan. And he was back to being on the phone with her. The even breathing he was so familiar with, lulling him to sleep. The way her sheets ruffled underneath her, he could only imagine how it would feel; he can only imagine how he would love it if he was there.

Not here, with an almost her but with her.

Truly, beside her.

══════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ══════

More A/N: I love Leona Kingscholar he is my #1 man and he is my king BUT Jack Howl has a special place in my heart. I love the idea of him being in-love with MC. I always love me a good love triangle with lots of angsty back story.

I really had fun writing this! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it.

Thank you so much for reading!

#jack howl #twisted wonderland #jack howl smut #Asami Oda #leona kingscholar

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drop-of-infinity · 3 years

Text

Destiel fic time, this part canon compliant with season 12. As always, anything is quotation marks is directly from the show, and any chapter can be read alone.

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

<><><><><><><>

Chapter 9: season 12

Keep Calm and Carry On

{“Whoa whoa whoa! It’s okay, it’s okay. He’s a friend.” On some level Dean knew that Mary’s gun couldn’t actually hurt Cas, but he still panicked at the sight of it pointed at the angel’s chest. Besides, he didn’t want Mary and Cas’s first meeting to involve anyone getting shot. Cas stared at him in shock, then immediately wrapped his arms around him. Dean sunk into Cas. I’m home, he thought.

{“Dean!” Cas felt like his chest was going to explode. He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive. He latched onto the hunter, desperately needing the contact, and almost cried when he felt Dean’s arms lift up to hug him back. This is real. He’s alive. When they separated, Cas found himself breathless. Odd, as I don’t technically need to breathe, his slightly scrambled brain thought distantly. He looked up at Dean who was smiling softly, and his heart clenched. I love you.

{“Cas Cas Cas! Don’t hurt him. Not yet.” Cas allowed Dean to hold him back. He was an angel, Dean wouldn’t actually be able to stop him from doing anything, but Cas had enough faith in him to allow himself to be manhandled. He still glanced up at Dean ruefully, although the effect was slightly ruined by the way he’d already melted under his hands.

The Foundry

{“Morning sunshine.” Sam gave Dean a weird look, and he realized he’d said that out loud. It was getting steadily harder to keep his thoughts under lock and key around Cas. Dean was used to hiding feelings, but four years was a long time to know you were in love with someone and never say anything. He took a deep breath and pressed everything down again.

First Blood

{“They’ve only been gone-“

“Six weeks two days and ten hours.” Cas’s chest hurt. He hadn’t stopped beating himself up for letting them go, even though Dean had told him to. Dean. Where was he now? Was he ok? Cas knew that the longing rolling off himself must be palpable but he didn’t care at this point. He just wanted Dean back.

{“Cas.” “Dean?” “Hey buddy, long time.” “What-what happened, wh-where are you?” Cas almost collapsed on the spot. His heart was trying to beat out of his chest and his knees were weak with relief. How many times had they almost lost each other by now? It didn’t matter, because every time it was the same bone crushing relief, the same lung deflating he’s okay he’s okay he’s okay. Cas grabbed the edge of a chair to steady himself, and took a deep breath for the first time in weeks.

{“Hey buddy.” Cas melted into Dean’s arms, barely holding back a whimper. The hug was over far too soon for his aching skin, and he turned his body towards Dean as he walked away, like a flower trying to catch the sun.

{As they sat in the back of the car, Dean considered what he had done and what he was about to do. There was no way he was letting Billie reap Sam or their mom. He was about to die. It was why he was sitting in the back of the car with Cas. He just wanted to be with him for a minute. Cas’s hand rested on the seat between them. Dean didn’t grab it, because he was, at heart, a coward, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted anything so badly. He could practically see the longing radiating off himself in waves.

Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets

{“Why do you let him talk to you like that?” Dean’s blood was boiling. This dickhead had no idea what Cas could do, what he had done. He might not command celestial armies anymore, but the dude was still amazing. It was more than just righteous anger though. Cas had rebelled against heaven for them. For Dean, or so he said. The way Ishim was talking to Cas, everything he said about how far Cas had fallen... it was all on Dean. He knew Cas would resent him for saying it though, so he didn’t.

{“I’m gonna cure you of your human weakness the same way I cured my own. By cutting it out.” Cas lay bleeding on the floor, unable to do anything, but he knew Ishim was wrong. Ishim’s love for Lily had turned him dark and twisted because she didn’t love him back. Cas knew Ishim could feel Cas’s longing, and saw a similar situation to himself and Lily with Cas and Dean, but he hadn’t accounted for one thing. Cas was at peace with it. He was prepared to always love Dean and never get an answer, and that wasn’t a weakness. It was what had made him strong enough to stop the apocalypse, to break free of Naomi’s control, to save the world from Amara. It was his greatest strength.

Stuck In The Middle (With You)

{“I think I’m dying.”

“No.” Dean could feel the panic rising into his throat, and he forced it down. Cas needed him right now, he didn’t have time for this. I can’t lose him he thought desperately. They had to do something. A distant part of his mind reminded him of something someone had told him once. “I watched the man I loved die. There’s no normal after that.” Dean steeled himself. He was NOT about to watch the man he loved die because they were going to fix Cas. They had to.

{“I love you. I love all of you.” Cas was dying, and he needed them to know. He needed Dean to know. He had imagined saying it a million times, and there had been dozens where it was on the tip of his tongue, but somehow he hadn’t pictured this. Dying in a barn, stabbed by a prince of hell. In some ways, Cas thought it was fitting. Dean met him in a barn after all. The beginning of the end. It didn’t matter now. He had said it. I love you. Yet somehow, Cas couldn’t even meet Dean’s eyes. He had a feeling the other man hadn’t gotten the real meaning behind his words. Not that it mattered. This was the end.

{Miraculously, Cas didn’t die. As Sam and Dean pulled him to his feet, all of his nerves were focused on the place where Dean’s hand held his. As the hunter let go, Cas chased his touch unconsciously, and felt Dean’s hand pivot back towards his and brush his skin again. His heart clenched painfully.

The Future

{“You know what, whatever. Welcome back.” Dean knew he wasn’t being fair, and he knew he was just making things worse, but he couldn’t stop. He was just so angry. He’d been worried sick about Cas and turns out... turns out the angel had just been ignoring him. It hurt like hell. He wanted... well that was the problem wasn’t it? He wanted. Dean rubbed his face and sighed. Just because you’re in love with the guy doesn’t mean you get to be an asshole, he told himself firmly. You wanted him back and now he’s back. Don’t be a dick.

{“It’s a gift. You keep those.” It was an olive branch, and Cas knew it. He was strangely relieved to be allowed to keep the mixtape. He remembered Dean giving it to him, and he remembered listening to it anytime he was driving alone. The music was... enjoyable. Cas found he liked the beats and the feel of it, but mostly he liked that Dean had given it to him. He was pleased to be allowed to keep it. Cas felt a surge of guilt about what he was about to do, but it had to be done. For the greater good, he told himself. He remembered repeating the same thing when he was working with Crowley all those years ago, and felt slightly sick. This time is different, he thought firmly. I’m not letting Dean do this. This... this is on me.

{“W-we?” “Yes dumbass, we.” Dean’s heart broke a little at the uncertainty in Cas’s voice. Sometimes the angel seemed seconds away from breaking, and Dean just wanted to grab him and hold him together. He pushed that feeling down, along with the way his chest ached with fondness at seeing Cas silhouetted in his doorway.

{“What the hell were you thinking?”

Dean shoved him up against the hotel wall as soon as he walked in, his arm warm against Cas’s chest. He hoped Dean couldn’t feel how fast his heart was beating through the trenchcoat. Cas should really not be staring at Dean’s lips right now, but Cas has missed him so much and he wants so desperately. Sam called Dean over before Cas could do something he would regret. He ran a hand over his chest, aching and missing Dean’s angry warmth.

{“You’re hurt.” Cas reached out and touched Dean’s hand lightly, then slid up and wrapped his hand around Dean’s injured arm. It was not necessary to touch people to heal them, which Cas was hoping Dean hadn’t figured out yet. He drew his hand away slowly, and Dean looked down at his healed arm as though in awe. Cas couldn’t imagine why. He’d healed Dean countless times since they’d met.

All Along The Watchtower

{“Here Dean. Let me.” Cas touched two fingers to Dean’s head gently, and his leg healed at once. The cut on his cheek also stitched itself up. Dean felt his heart speed up a little as Cas drew his hand away, and Dean looked down, flustered. He sighed inwardly. He was a grown man, not a teenager with a crush. He didn’t get fucking butterflies. Except, apparently, he did.

{“No!” As Sam ran inside to find Jack and Kelly, Dean sank to his knees, overcome with grief. Their mom was in the other world with Lucifer, and Cas... Dean knelt next to the angel, too stunned to do anything. The outline of Cas’s wings stretched across the ground beside them, and Dean lowered his head. He felt hollow. He stood slowly, looking up at the sky. Cas had always loved the stars. Dean wanted to scream, to find God and rip him limb from limb, to do something other than sit here and drown in his sorrow, but he couldn’t. Dean looked down at Cas again. The angel’s eyes were closed. He was gone.

{Cas had felt the life drain out of him, felt his spirit fall into the earth and then sink beyond it. Now he felt nothing at all.

{Dean wished he could fly into the stars, find Chuck and make him bring Cas back. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything at all.

#supernatural #destiel #spn #deancas #castiel #supernatural thoughts #spn thoughts #spn season 12 #supernatural season 12 #lily sunder has some regrets #destiel fanfiction #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #deancas fanfiction #deancas fanfic #deancas fic

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vendettaviraa · 4 years

Note

Hiii love! I was wondering if I could request a Bakugo x reader fic where reader and Bakugo are rivals/“enemies” but are in the same friend group, and they’re always arguing and wanting to one up each other? And all their friends are convinced they’re “secretly” actually in love with each other, so their friends trap them together and they end up getting along and confessing to each other? (Sorry if this was too long lol)

Fic Type: Scenario Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: Bakugo x Reader Prompt: N/A Word Count: 881 words A/N: Omg yes you can, I hope you enjoy it!! Ilysm bb 🥺💙

You swung your legs over the desk to rest them on it. Of course, Iida was scolding you for doing so. Bakugo began barking at the class rep to leave you alone while he copied your actions. Now with both of you with your feet on the desk, Iida practically screeched at this point.

"Class is starting. Sit down and shut up." Aizawa walked in, and you instantly sat up. The room settled down at his arrival. "Before we start with what we have scheduled for today, we have an announcement from Miss Midnight." Aizawa slipped into his sleeping bag and quickly became unconscious.

"Hey, guys! I was asked by the Principal to give the awards to our top three students who excelled in yesterday's competitions!" Opening a case, Midnight brought out three medals. One bronze, one silver, and one gold. Whispers arose between the students as to which classmate was worthy enough to get a reward. "Third place goes to...Shoto Todoroki." Fellow friends cheered and clapped at his accomplishment. He stood up and bowed his head for her to put the medal on. "Second place goes to...Katsuki Bakugo!" Your hot-headed friend smirked and punched your arm on his way up. "Beat that." Bakugo snarled at you. Scoffing and rubbing your arms, you knew he deserved it. "And first place goes to... (💙)!" The class applauded for you. You stood up and made your way to the front of the classroom, a wide grin plastered on your face. "Thank you, everyone," But I want to thank Katsuki the most for sucking so much." You hissed out his name. The room went wild at your response, and you returned to your seat, golden medal around your neck.

You found yourself slouching on the couch, scrolling aimlessly on your phone. "(💙)." You glanced up for a second, your (e/c) eyes meeting Bakugo's red ones. Returning your gaze to your phone, you hummed out a response. While your attention was fixated on your device, his eyes roamed your form, admiring how heavenly you looked even in your pajamas. Annoyed at his silence, you spoke. "What?" He simply just stared at you before exiting the room. "Wait! What did you want?!" You yelled after him. Sitting up, you started to chase him.

Following Bakugo, you were now in his bedroom. "What do you want?" He asked. A smile spreading to his face once he heard your gasp and saw your priceless face. "What do I want?" You grabbed ahold of his pillow and smacked him with it. "What do you want?" While the two of you struggled over the pillow, a small group gathered outside his door to eavesdrop.

"Yeah, they totally have it bad for each other," Jiro stated, removing her ear jack from the wall. "We should find a way to get them together!" Mina clapped her hands together, and the other two hushed her.

Back in his room, Bakugo had seized the pillow and hit you with it. Dazed from the blow, you staggered, falling onto his bed. When you regained your composure, you stood up. "Find me if you want to tell me what you wanted." You huffed out and left his room. His heart ached at the sight of you leaving, but he couldn't bring himself to chase after you.

"We need to find somewhere to get them alone together!" Mina declared to the group, now located in the foyer. "How about the roof?" Denki suggested. "Great idea! But how will we seal the door?" Uraraka asked. "Ice!" Denki shot up from his seating position. "Ice?" Jiro looked at him with a deadpan expression. "Yeah! We could ask Todoroki to freeze the door so they can't leave!" They all nodded in agreement, before turning to Todoroki. "Yo, Todo, do you mind doing us a favor?"

"Just a bit longer!" Uraraka sang, leading you by the shoulders to the roof. "You said Katsuki wanted to talk to me?" She nodded and opened the door to the roof. "Sorry, (💙)!" Mina yelled out, shoving you out of the door. "We're not letting you back in! Until you two admit you like each other!" Mina shouted, and their footsteps fading away.

"Hey..." You turned around was met with Bakugo. "Is there a way out?" You questioned, gesturing at the door. "No, half and half froze the door." He huffed out. "Can't you use your quirk to break down the door?" "I could but I'd rather not get in trouble for destroying school property." Bakugo suddenly started walking towards you, until your back hit the brick wall. His eyes were avoiding yours as he looked anywhere but you. Being near the guy you liked, caused your face to heat up uncontrollably. "(💙)...I love you."

He tilted your chin upward and moved in closer. "You...love me?" You repeated. He nodded and moved his hand to cup your cheek. Reaching up, you covered his hand with your own. "I love you too." You smiled sweetly at him. His usual cold stare softened at your confession. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll kill you." Closing the distance between you two, he softly pressed his lips against yours, and you returned the gesture. When you finally parted, you smirked at him. "Not if I kill you first."

#monsbizarreadventures #my hero academia #bnha #mha #boku no hero x reader #my hero x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugō #katsuki x reader #mha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugo x reader

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whumpflumpthump · 3 years

Text

Mac Whump...again...

Hello again!! I’m back with more Mac whump. However, this fic doesn’t have as large of a focus on whump as my last ones have, because I got kind of carried away... There is also some very questionable science in this fic, but it is based on facts. I will admit this isn’t my best work, but I wanted to get something out today, so here it is...

Warnings: This fic contains a gunshot and other related violence, so if this triggers you, please be safe!!

As always, if you guys have any MacGyver related prompts you would like me to fill, just send me an ask!

So, without further ado, enjoy!!

...

As Mac was running through the woods, being chased by a highly dangerous, armed, and not to mention gigantic gang member, her was wondering how things had gotten so bad, so quick. It had started out as a simple mission, infiltrate a gang of drug dealers who had recently started meddling in more dangerous affairs, just long enough to allow Riley to download some information that they could use to take down the gang. However, as with most missions the team went on, that was not how it ended up. The gang had somehow gotten wind of who they really were, and that unfortunate slip had led to Mac’s current, tiring predicament.

A gunshot rang out through the trees, and Mac risked a quick glance around to each side, making sure Riley and Jack were both still okay. Jack had turned around to return fire, and Riley, seeing Mac’s concerned glance, gave a small thumbs up. Mac sighed in relief before focusing again on not getting shot by the increasingly aggressive gang members chasing him. However, he wasn’t able to relax long, the team was quickly tiring, it had been a long trip and they were all running on low sleep. The hostiles were gaining quickly. He needed to come up with something soon, or this would not end well.

He looked around, and an idea slowly formed in his mind. About forty yards to the left, there was an old shack that looked like an old wood shop. Why it was there? He had no idea, but he was thankful regardless. If he could just get over to it, he would be able to use the saw dust as an explosive, and use it to cause a distraction that should give them enough time to escape and call for backup. But, in order to do that, he would need a distraction of his own. He turned around once again to look at Jack, and nodded his head towards the wood shack, hoping he would get his message.

It turned out all their years working together had paid off, because Jack nodded and almost immediately turned around and started firing.

“Take that you good-for-nothing scumbags. I’ll have you know, no one messes with an angry Jack Dalton and gets away unharmed.”

Jack’s threats seemed to work, at least for the moment. The gang seemed distracted, enough so that they didn’t seem to notice when Mac quickly darted over to the wood shop. As he approached, he was happy to see that his assumption was correct, and there was saw dust scattered in piles all over the ground.

Mac immediately set to work, gathering up the driest bits of dust he could find, and made a pile on an old table. After he had collected a good amount of sawdust, he started to look for something airtight to place them in. After about five seconds of frantic searching, Jack’s firing speed was slowing down as he was running out of ammo, Mac found what he was looking for, a roll of plastic wrap used to cover the wood when it rained. He quickly tore off a decent sized section, and wrapped the saw dust “bomb” he had created, leaving a small hole where he placed a rolled up piece of paper, found on the table for some kind of plans or something, to act as a wick.

As he was busy trying to form his makeshift bomb, Mac was oblivious to the gang member walking up behind him, gun raised and aimed at his chest. Right as he was about to light the paper, he heard a shout.

“Mac, watch out!”

It was Riley, eyes wide, as she watched the scene play out from safely behind a group of trees. She was presumably trying to call for help, before yelling at Mac.

He quickly turned around, and saw the gun aimed at his heart.

Time seemed to slow down as he watched the man’s finger move towards the trigger, a cold smile playing across his face. Just as his finger arrived at the trigger, he was tackled to the ground by Jack, who then promptly knocked him out with a swift right hook to the jaw, but not before a single shot was fired.

...

Mac’s mouth formed a small “o,” as the bullet tore into his body, not at the chest like it was intended, but in his right leg, right above his knee.

He fell to the ground as his leg gave out, and landed hard on the forest floor. For a few seconds, he was blissfully numb as his brain tried to catch up with what had just happened.

He was not so lucky for long.

First, there was a throbbing pain as the blood poured out of the wound, and then came the burning. A searing pain that felt as though his leg was on fire shot through his body, causing him to shudder. His breaths were coming in short gasps as he tried to look down to assess the damage.

Blood was pouring out of the bullet hole, and pooling on the leaf-covered ground. That was as far as he got in his examination, before Jack was kneeling next to him, gently pushing his shoulders back to the ground.

“Hey bud, you need to stay still for me okay?” he said, and then got his first real look at Mac’s injury.

“Oh Mac, that does not look good. I’m so sorry bud, if I had been a little quicker...”

He was cut off by Mac, “Not...your fault.” Mac was already starting to lose focus, and blood was still pouring out of the wound. He looked down again, “How bad?”

“Well, its not great...can’t see an exit wound, so the bullet is still in there. From the looks of things, your femur might be fractured too.”

Mac nodded, before closing his eyes tight as another shudder racked through him.

Jack seemed to have realized that he needed to stop the bleeding, so he was back kneeling next to Mac.

“Okay bud, this might hurt, but I need to try and slow the bleeding. Riley, what’s the ETA of exfil?”

That seemed to snap Riley out of her shock, and she pulled out her phone, while Jack started to push on Mac’s leg.

“Four minutes!”

Mac gasped as Jack pushed the bullet farther into his leg, causing it to put pressure on the already injured bone. Black spots were forming in his vision as his breaths got shorter, he was rapidly losing his battle to stay conscious.

“Sorry Mac, we can’t take the bullet out, and you’ve already lost enough blood as it is.”

“It’s...k” Mac said, his eyes fluttering.

“Come on bud, stay with me. You’re doing so well, just a few more minutes,” Jack said, in vain, as Mac’s eyes had finally closed and he fell unconscious, going limp in the dirt.

“Riley, how much longer?”

“Two minutes now,” Riley responded, looking nervously at the blonde between them.

Jack checked Mac’s pulse, and sighed in relief as he felt it, slower than normal, but there.

They both waited out the next two minutes in silence, and when exfil came, they moved out of the way as the medics lifted Mac’s prone form onto a stretcher, and got into the truck.

As the truck drove away, they were both thinking the same thing, why was it always Mac?

...

Thanks for reading!! I just wanted to let you know that tomorrow should be another creepy Murdoc fic, and I am working on a continuation of my first Murdoc fic, which should be done some time this week.

Thanks again, have a wonderful day!!

#MacGyver #macgyver whump #macgyver whump fanfiction #macgyver whump fanfic #fanfiction #mine #gunshot wound #leg wound #long tags #thanks for reading #angus macgyver whump #mac whump #jack dalton #riley davis #Angus MacGyver

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darks-ink · 4 years

Text

Got My Reasons

“Doing the right thing for the wrong reason doesn’t make it good!” His glow flickered wildly, coalescing and twirling like flames. His eyes burned bright like a jack-’o-lantern’s. “Just because you helped me doesn’t make you the better person!” “You practically served yourself up to us,” she retorted, her voice flat. “What else did you expect, a heavily injured ghost unconscious in the vehicle of ghost hunters?”

Prompt: After being seriously wounded in a fight, Danny collapses inside the Fenton GAV to recoup. When his parents are called to the ghost sighting a few minutes later, however, they don’t notice who they’ve brought along for the ride Prompt by: @sapphireswimming Word count: 7,625

[AO3] [FFN] [more Phic Phight fics]

Content warning: descriptions of serious injuries, kinda terrible medical practice. The usual. But it’s all okay in the end!

---

The GAV screeched to a sudden halt, Maddie already half out the door before it had stopped. The ghost on the road in front of them roared, baring oversized fangs at the vehicle.

She rushed around the car, pulling open the doors in the back with force. A weapon. That’s all she needed. A weapon, ASAP.

The thought distracted her enough that she stumbled, almost falling over something out of place in the GAV. She barely caught herself on one of the shelves, already turning to scold Jack, when she saw—

“Phantom,” she whispered, feeling her brain grind to a halt.

Because it was, without a doubt, Phantom. The ghost seemed to be severely injured, splattered in green ectoplasm. It dripped over Phantom’s side, staining the wall of the GAV that he leaned against. One hand was pressed loosely against his side, but the ghost’s eyes were closed, and he hadn’t responded to her tripping over him, either. Passed out? But that wasn’t possible, was it?

She bit her lip. The ghost outside was a bigger threat. Maddie knew she had to focus on that one, first. Phantom was clearly in no state to leave, but…

Her hand touched the familiar metal curve of a Fenton Thermos.

Without another thought, she uncapped the device. Phantom was dragged in without another movement, not even stirring in the slightest. This was a perfect opportunity to study him, and the Thermos would preserve him until the right time.

With that settled, Maddie turned to grab a gun. Jack needed her. Phantom would come later.

---

“Uh, Maddie?” Jack’s voice rang from the back of the car, and she paused. “Why is there ectoplasm splattered all over the inside of the GAV?”

She blinked for a moment before realization struck. “It’s Phantom!” she yelled back, already turning to walk back. “I found him seriously injured and passed out in the back of the van, but we had to go deal with that attacking ghost.”

Now next to her husband, she clambered inside. The Thermos was still where she had left it, and she grabbed it. Let’s not get that one confused with the others. “I caught him in this Thermos. Not sure how bad his injuries really are, but this way he would be stable until we could look at him.”

“Good thinking!” Jack grinned, climbing into the GAV next to her to stow their weapons. “Passed out, though?”

“He didn’t move, not even when I tripped on him.” She frowned at the Thermos in her hand. “It was… strange. He was completely unresponsive, but he was still together. Leaking ectoplasm, but only from his injuries. Not destabilized.”

“Odd,” her husband agreed, clicking the last gun into its place. “I guess we have our work cut out for us!”

“Indeed.” She turned the Thermos, slowly, gazing at the meter in its side. It was startlingly full, a measure not just of mass but also of a ghost’s strength. Considering that Phantom was the only one in the Thermos… “Why don’t you drive us back, honey?”

His excitement would turn him in an even more reckless driver than usual, she guessed, but… she didn’t want to risk Phantom escaping.

Briefly, she considered clipping the Thermos onto her belt, but no. It felt safer in her hands, even as she had to take one off of the device to climb into the passenger’s seat of the GAV.

Their drive back home was… well. It was certainly fast.

Before she knew it, Maddie was clambering out of the GAV with one hand, the Thermos clenched in her other. “I’ll go prep the lab. Jack, bring in the spent weaponry and the other ghost, please?”

“Gotcha!” He bounded away to the back of the GAV while Maddie walked to their front door, quickly unlocking it. The house was empty inside—Danny was off with his friends, and Jazz away to the library—but that had become rather common these days.

At least she wouldn’t have to worry about either of them protesting their capture of Phantom. She didn’t understand it, the youth’s insistence that the ghost was good, but she certainly didn’t understand how her own children had fallen for Phantom’s tricks.

Well, it would be a problem no longer. Once she and Jack were done with their studies of Phantom, the ghost would no longer trick anybody.

Maddie left the Thermos on one of the mostly empty tables, quickly putting away the few things that were on it. She rolled a trolley over, paused. Rolled her eyes and emptied that, too.

By the time Jack had made it downstairs, their used weaponry stacked in a pile to the side—she made a quick mental note to make sure those were taken care of later—Maddie had finished preparing the table and the trolley. She had stalled out a large assortment of tools they might want or need for their inspection of Phantom.

There were no straps on the table—they had removed them due to the diversity in ghosts’ bodies—but she didn’t think they would need them, anyway. Phantom had been so weakened… He hadn’t even fought back when she’d tripped over him, when she’d captured him.

“Ready, Jack?” she asked, picking up the Thermos again. “We won’t know how he’ll act.”

“Ready,” her husband confirmed. He flexed his fingers, the metal ghost-proof gauntlets shifting with the movement. “I’ll hold him if he tries to escape.”

Maddie nodded, twisting the cap off of the Thermos. With a whir, it unloaded its contents, spitting Phantom onto the table.

The ghost groaned as he hit the surface, his limbs twitching slightly. He seemed slightly more awake than in the GAV, but not much. Didn’t even try to leave the table.

Ectoplasm gushed from several injuries all over Phantom’s body, the liquid spilling onto the table already.

“Not looking good, Phantom,” Jack commented, disengaging the gauntlets. Clearly they wouldn’t need them to restrain Phantom.

Phantom groaned again, a warble of sound that might’ve been intended as an answer. Definitely awake, then, but in poor condition.

She moved to roll him onto his back. Frowned at the deep slice in his side, right where the ribs would be on a human. The inside of the injury glimmered with fresh ectoplasm but it didn’t spill, not nearly as freely as she would’ve expected. No, the surface-level ectoplasm seemed… almost crystallized, a solid instead of a liquid.

Frowning, with one hand bracing Phantom, she reached in. The ectoplasm certainly felt solid under her probing finger.

Phantom groaned again, his left arm shifting slightly, like a weak attempt at batting her away.

“He seems to have some form of ectoplasmic bones,” she reported to Jack, finally rolling Phantom over all the way. The ghost twitched, his left hand wandering back to the slice. His eyes, he kept closed. “But his injuries are severe. He might destabilize before we finish our research.”

“That’d be a waste.” Jack frowned at the ghost on their table, too. “We’ll have to stabilize him. This is the first ghost with those kind of traits we’ve seen. We can’t risk losing him.”

That, at least, they agreed on. “We’ll need to close the injuries, stop him from losing too much ectoplasm. Can you get a needle and thread?” She looked back at Phantom, his complexion seeming to pale. “Fishing line if you can find it, but normal thread might be enough to tide him over for now.”

Phantom muttered something again, a whining noise that didn’t quite make it to words. It was odd. Maddie had been sure the ghost always spoke in perfect English, yet he seemed to be conversing in something else now. She was almost tempted to consider it a ghostly language of sorts, but why would such a thing exist? Ghosts weren’t intelligent enough for a society, let alone a language that drove such a thing.

“I found some fishing line, but not nearly enough for all his injuries.” Jack handed her the first aid kit, a sterile needle and clean thread, as well as a ball of tangled phase-proof wire. “… and I’ll have to untangle it first,” he added on, sheepishly.

“We’ll have to risk the normal thread.” She reached for the needle, then paused. Looked at Phantom. “It… His structure seems far more complicated than that of other ghosts. Should we see if he has a layer of skin underneath the jumpsuit? Stitching the two together might cause harm.”

Jack nodded, already grabbing Phantom’s right hand—the one not pressed against an injury. He hooked his fingers underneath the edge of Phantom’s white glove, carefully peeling it off.

As she had half expected, the glove came off entirely, damaged but not destabilizing even when removed from the ghost it belonged to. And underneath it, Phantom’s hand was… almost normal. The skin was the same cool tone as his face, a thousand small details she never would’ve expected a ghost to have, especially on a surface not usually exposed to sight.

“Let’s strip the rest, too,” Jack said, dropping the glove next to Phantom’s side. He reached for Phantom’s left hand, but hesitated. “The jumpsuit, at least. But, Maddie, what detail.”

“He’s unlike every other ghost we’ve tested so far,” she agreed. From this close, she could see the exquisite detail in Phantom’s clothing, too. A zipper hidden in the edge of his collar, which she tugged down to unzip the front of his suit. “And you couldn’t even tell from the way he acted! I wonder how many more are like this? Is it related to their strength?”

Phantom’s jumpsuit peeled apart to reveal a pale chest. Several smaller cuts littered his front, previously unnoticed due to the splatters of ectoplasm. The structure of it was, again, oddly detailed and human like.

Jack whistled, low. “What a scar, Mads! I wonder if it’s related to his death?”

“Why would he have scars of an event he doesn’t remember?” She zipped the jumpsuit down to his belt, working his right arm out of the sleeve. “I’d consider it more likely that it’s an old injury he got in a ghost fight. Maybe he kept it for intimidation purposes, to show that he won from a ghost with a certain level of power.”

“But then, why not show it off?” Jack asked, helping her by lifting Phantom up slightly. The ghost groaned, quietly, but didn’t try to stop them. “Why hide it under his suit?”

“He might’ve changed his appearance to appear more tame towards Amity Park’s citizens.” She rolled the right side of the jumpsuit down to Phantom’s hips, but that left the other side. “Jack, why don’t you keep pressure on that cut, and I’ll take off the rest of the jumpsuit?”

Her husband nodded, bustling over to press his hands against Phantom’s side. The ghost hissed, a strange warble and click to the sound, like a layer of audible static. His left hand batted at Jack’s hand, weakly, but it stilled quickly. The ghost went limp against the table.

“Did he pass out?” Jack asked, leaning over Phantom without taking his hands off of the injury. “Well, that’ll make our job easier, at least.”

She hummed as she peeled off Phantom’s left glove, slick with ectoplasm. His hand was sturdier than she would’ve expected of a ghost, a clear sign that his bone-like constructions extended into his hands. The skin was… surprisingly human-like, too cool but not as icy cold as ghosts usually were.

Maddie dropped the glove with the one already on the table, turning to lay down Phantom’s hand, when she noticed its appearance.

“Jack, look.” She held up the hand, her fingers tracing the extensive scarring. Its texture differed from the rest of the skin, rough and ragged like an actual scar. It seemed to originate in the palm, branching outwards from there, all the way down his wrist and into the cuff of his jumpsuit. It glowed, faintly, brightest at the palm. “Do you think it’s the same scar as on his chest?”

“Only one way to find out, huh?” Jack twisted his head to nod at Phantom’s face. “He has some kind of bruising on his throat, somehow. Green instead of purple, but you can’t mistake that kind of splotching.”

“At least we won’t have to worry about a crushed windpipe.” She twisted his arm out of the sleeve, feeling the bones in his shoulder shift with the movement. Definitely a human-like skeleton. How odd. “There we go. Definitely one large electrical scar, with the extremes in the palm of his hand and on his chest.”

Jack shifted his hands, allowing her to push the jumpsuit down to Phantom’s hips entirely. Now, they could see the ragged edges of the injury, the way it had torn Phantom’s… skin, for lack of better word, apart.

“Whoever, or whatever, he fought must’ve been something vicious,” Jack commented. Green ectoplasm continued to bubble up around his black gloves.

“Loathe as I am to say it, it was a good thing that Phantom dealt with it.” She looked over Phantom’s other injuries, but none seemed as threatening as the one on his side. “Something like this would’ve killed a human almost instantly.”

She picked up the needle, taking it out of its packaging. Using sterile tools might not be necessary, but Phantom was already defying what they knew of ghosts. Better not risk it.

“He must’ve caught it, at least,” Jack said as she threaded the needle. “If he was in the back of our GAV, the fight must’ve ended. Not sure where the Thermos went, though.”

Maddie gestured, and Jack shifted, pinching the injury closed instead of covering it up. She stuck the needle through, swiftly, but Phantom didn’t move.

“Definitely passed out,” she commented, moving to pinch the injury closed herself. “I’ve got this, Jack. Can you go look over the rest of his injuries?”

“Well, he has those bruises on his neck.” Jack paused, placing his fingers against the bare throat. “They seem… finger-like? Like someone tried to strangle him. A ghost my size, maybe?”

She threaded the needle through Phantom’s side again. “But why try to choke him out? That’d do nothing to him, he’s a ghost!”

“Maybe they were trying to snap his neck, instead?” Jack made an uncertain noise, moving up to Phantom’s head. “If he has something like bones, they gotta serve some purpose, right? So maybe breaking his spine would’ve disabled him, like with a human?”

“But as a ghost, his most important part is the core in his chest, not the brain.” She was making steady progress on Phantom’s side. The ghost still hadn’t stirred. He’d better not destabilize, not after all the effort they put into preserving him. “Unless he needs his head for some kind of offensive power, snapping his neck wouldn’t have done them any good.”

“There might not be any logic behind it, anyway,” Jack pointed out. “We’re talking about ghosts, after all. Maybe this wasn’t an attempt at strangling at all, but just the most convenient part for the other ghost to grab.”

He paused, gently probing Phantom’s head. “He definitely has some sort of skull, too. Very human-like, barely any flesh—or ectoplasm—over it. A cut on his temple, kind of deep. Looks like it bled badly, but it’s got some sort of crust over it, now.”

“Normal ectoplasm doesn’t crust… But normal ectoplasm also doesn’t form bone-like structures.” Halfway through the slice on his sides. The ribs still glinted crystalline against a backdrop of green so dark it appeared black. “No other injuries on his head?”

“None that I can see.” Jack hesitated, then ran his fingers through Phantom’s hair. The black of his gloves contrasted starkly against the white of Phantom’s hair. “There’s some dried ectoplasm in here, but I think it all came from that cut on his temple.”

“That’s good, at least. I’m not sure how his head injuries would compare to a human’s.” A few more stitches went into Phantom’s side. “None of the cuts on his chest seemed severe when I checked them out earlier, and I don’t think he has any on his arms, either.”

Jack hummed, walking past her to the other end of the table. “I’ll check out his legs, then.”

As she continued to stitch of Phantom’s side, Jack’s humming paused. His hands wrapped around Phantom’s left leg, gently probing the limb.

“I… think he has a broken leg,” Jack said, abruptly. “It feels like the bone-like structure doesn’t line up right. It’s not that way on the other leg.”

“We might have to set it, then.” Another stitch as she thought it over. “If his flesh injuries heal, his bones probably do as well. He probably doesn’t need his legs to walk, but having the bone grow wrong might stop him from forming his spectral tail.”

She paused, her hands stilling. “How does he form a spectral tail if he has bones?”

“I…” Jack halted too. “I honestly don’t know. He doesn’t move that thing like there’s any bones in it.”

“Maybe…” She continued her work again, pulling the needle through Phantom’s false flesh. “Maybe he can form and dissolve the crystal structures by will? To form bones and then make them go away when they’re a hindrance?”

“In which case we wouldn’t need to set his leg, because he can just reform it properly,” Jack pointed out. It was quiet for a moment as he, presumably, felt out the bones. “It feels like a clean break, at least. We can try waiting it out and offer him a splint if he needs it.”

“That might work.” She finished another stitch, looking over her work. Tied off the thread. “There, this should keep him stable for now. Let’s hope he doesn’t immediately rip it or phase it out when he wakes up.”

Which was baffling her, still. Ghosts don’t pass out; they don’t black out or sleep or go unconscious in any way. Even if Phantom had bones of some sort, what benefit could passing out give him?

“I’ll get a bucket and some cloth.” Jack had wandered off already, having finished his inspection. “We better clean all that ectoplasm off of him, make sure he’s not hiding anything more severe.”

She nodded, placing the needle back in its wrapper. It would have to be thrown out and replaced later; there was no sterilizing a needle so heavily stained with ectoplasm. Speaking of which…

Maddie stripped off her gloves, dropping them on a nearby table, and wandered over to the lab’s closet. It always paid to have a few jumpsuits on hand. One of the bins contained spare gloves, and she quickly pulled a clean pair on.

“I got the stuff!” Jack announced, bustling down the stairs. He had replaced his gloves with clean ones too, at some point. Hopefully before he left the lab and smeared ectoplasm on everything.

“Let’s get him cleaned up, then.” She took one of the cloths out of the water—warm, but not too hot—and pressed it against Phantom’s chest. The ghost made a soft noise, a staticky whine, his fingers twitching.

No further movement came.

They carefully cleaned the ectoplasm off of Phantom’s body; his scars seemed to glow even brighter when they were wet. As Jack finished cleaning off Phantom’s torso, Maddie moved over to his head.

Phantom still had his eyes closed, but they were no longer clenched as tightly. Thick globs of ectoplasm trailed down the side of his face, smeared through his hair.

Gently, she pressed the cloth against his head, just underneath the injury. If it had scabbed over, she didn’t want to reopen it. Phantom moaned, his eyes moving underneath the lids.

It wasn’t a sound, not a human one, but… Maddie could’ve sworn that Phantom called her ‘Mom’.

“Those noises are strange, aren’t they, Jack?” she asked, trying to distract herself from the not-word. Ghosts didn’t do parents; the concept of a mother should be completely foreign to Phantom. “I’ve never heard him speak anything but perfect English.”

“They’re so inhuman!” he agreed, as excited as ever. “The warbling, the almost static sound of them! It must be something lower than true speech, for Phantom to fall back into it when injured.”

Jack tapped on Phantom’s chest, right in the center of the glowing scar. “It’s almost like it comes from his core, sometimes, instead of his mouth. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

“But why would ghosts have a basal language of their own?” She rubbed the ectoplasm stains off of Phantom’s cheek, the ghost’s nose twitching when she brushed too close past it. For just a brief moment, she could see green gums, sharp teeth. “They’re not sentient, not even like animals. Right? They would have no need to communicate with each other.”

“Well, if they can learn human languages, I don’t see why they couldn’t have their own.” He shrugged, coming closer to Phantom’s head as well. “They clearly have some form of intelligence, even if it’s limited. They can conceptualize and plan, after all.”

He lifted Phantom’s head, and she started cleaning the ectoplasm out of the ghost’s hair. It was odd, the texture of it just off. A little too slick, too smooth. Not heavy enough, as it seemed to stir even when neither of them touched it.

“I suppose you’re right,” she eventually said. Phantom’s head laid limply in Jack’s hand, the other braced under the ghost’s shoulders. “They must go out of their way to avoid using it around humans, then. I can’t think of a single ghost using it before, not even the animals.”

“It’s definitely weird,” Jack agreed. “And, I was thinking… It doesn’t seem the echo the same way as their voices either, does it?”

She paused, the wet cloth pressed against Phantom’s head. No. No, it certainly hadn’t. “Huh.”

“Maybe they do always speak in it,” Jack continued. “Maybe they just layer actual speech on top of it, usually. Maybe that’s what causes the echo? A voice from their core, for ghosts, and a voice from their throat?”

“I suppose it might be possible.” The clumps of green had mostly been washed out of Phantom’s hair, now, leaving just faint green stains. “I think this is as good as we’ll get it, Jack.”

He nodded, lowering Phantom’s head back onto the table. The ghost stirred again, a little, eyelids clenching and relaxing again. It sniffled, oddly enough, face contorting.

Maddie dropped the cloth back into the bucket of water. They’d definitely need to get rid of all that, too. Ugh. The disadvantages of working with ectoplasm.

Phantom warbled something again. His fingers twitched against the surface of the table.

“Look who’s waking up!” Jack grinned at her, from Phantom’s other side. “About time, Phantom!”

The ghost jerked, suddenly, like a full-body flinch. He hissed, a sound filled with static and pain.

And then he was sitting up, fingers clawing against the surface of the table.

“No you don’t!” she told him, pressing a hand against his chest. Pushed him back against the table. “You’re not tearing those stitches I just put into you.”

His eyes moved to stare at her, the green dull and glassy compared to their usual brightness. He frowned, warbling something at her.

‘why’ her mind told her it meant.

“Down, Phantom.” She pressed harder, and he collapsed back against the table. There was more tension in his body, now. In his false muscles.

Or were they false?

“We found you passed out in the GAV,” Jack explained, tone dropping into something comforting. “You looked close to destabilizing.”

Phantom’s eyes seemed to sharpen, finally, as they darted from her to Jack and back. His left hand wandered to his side.

“Don’t mess with those stitches,” she told him, sharply. He flinched, but dropped the hand. “We didn’t clean you up just so you can wreck all our hard work, you know?”

He licked his lips, tongue vivid green against his pale skin. “Why?” he croaked out, layered so thickly in static she could barely make out the word.

“Why?” she repeated, quirking an eyebrow at him. “Well, you were too interesting a subject to pass up, of course. None of the ghosts we’ve studied so far had bodies as complex as yours. What a waste it would be, to let you melt away like that!”

Phantom pressed flatter against the table. His hands wandered, like he was looking for something. “Now what?”

“Well, there’s no straps on this table, if that’s what you’re looking for,” Jack said, looking down at Phantom. The ghost stilled immediately. Huh. Odd. Why would he know to look for those? “For now, you appear weakened enough that there’s no risk of your escape, but you’re awake enough to answer some questions. Mads?”

“Sounds like a good start,” she agreed. This was probably the most pliable they would get Phantom. “Let’s start easy, shall we? Your leg is broken. Lower left. Do you want a splint for that?”

“I…” Phantom blinked, apparently caught off-guard by her question. “Um. I think I’ll be okay.”

She nodded, watching him carefully. His eyes seemed to brighten, slowly, becoming greener and greener by the second. Even his complexion seemed to gain some color back.

“Did you catch the ghost who roughed you up so badly?” Jack asked, crouching a little so he didn’t tower over Phantom as badly. “Wouldn’t want them to try the same on any humans, after all.”

“No, he’s… He’s not a concern anymore.” Phantom tried to push himself up again, but paused when she glared at him. “He’s… He only has it out for me. Doesn’t really care about the humans.”

Well, that was good, at least. “Is there any risk of him breaking in to chase you?”

“No, I took care of it.” Phantom shook his head, slowly, wobbling a little. “He needs his suit to be a real threat, and I destroyed that.”

A ghost wearing a suit? Something mechanical, then. Maybe like that annoying electric one, which controlled technology, but he didn’t seem all that interested in Phantom.

Must be an unknown ghost. That was… worrisome. The possibility that there was such a dangerous ghost out there that they knew nothing about, running loose in Amity Park.

Phantom seemed uncomfortable, pinned down flat against the table. She supposed that she and Jack were kind of looming over him.

“You can sit up, if you want, but be careful.” She tried to ease her posture, to soften her glare. Phantom was just a ghost, yes, but he was voluntarily giving them information. No point in shutting him down so soon.

The ghost nodded, sliding his hands underneath himself. Slowly, he pushed himself up. Cautiously. His face strained as he did so, briefly, hand sliding closer to the stitches in his side.

Curious. A pain reaction. Could be faked, of course, but it seemed… it seemed genuine. The barely-there hiss of static through his clenched teeth, layered over an almost physical sense of pain.

Maybe that was Phantom’s big trick all along. The ability to make others feel emotions. To somehow convey emotions and feelings that he, himself, did not feel.

“Do you want painkillers for that?” Jack asked, also watching the ghost grimace, hands hovering over the stitches. “Or, uh… Some ghost equivalent?”

Phantom’s eyes slid back to Jack, then Maddie, and back to Jack. “I… If you’ve got some. I need more than a human, though.”

“You want some water to help that go down?” Jack grabbed the first aid kit, digging through its contents for the painkillers. “Or food?”

“Um. Water would be nice. Food…” The oddly mundane sound of a growling stomach. Phantom flushed bright green. “I’d like food, yeah. Um. Thanks.”

Jack handed her the painkillers, already turning towards the stairs. “I’ll be right back with a glass and something to eat. Maddie, you figure out how much to give him.”

She turned the bottle in her hand, searching for the instructions. How did Phantom compare to a human? Was his metabolizing faster? Stronger? Did his ectoplasm somehow form organs, as well as bones? Some sort of non-crystallized solid?

“Um. I probably know how much I’ll need if you tell me what kind that is,” Phantom said, interrupting her train of thought. Her eyes snapped from the bottle to him. His shoulders were drawn up, tense.

“What?” she asked, still working through the sentence. “Oh, it’s… paracetamol. We don’t usually need painkillers for this sort of stuff.”

He nodded understandingly, and Maddie wondered how much of it he really did understand. His structure was definitely more complicated than that of most ghosts. He had bones, musculature, apparently even organs. Was it really that far-fetched to think that he might have something like nerves, too? That he might feel pain, or at least understand it?

“The teen portion, but up it by half, then.” He opened his hand, and only then seemed to realize that he wasn’t wearing his gloves, because he froze up. Stared down at his bare, heavily scarred hand. “Wh— Why am I not wearing my jumpsuit anymore?”

“We had to take it off to check your injuries.” She uncapped the bottle of painkillers, keeping Phantom in her peripherals. “And you seemed to have a structure underneath the jumpsuit, unlike most ghosts. We didn’t want to risk damage by sewing the two together.”

Phantom hummed at that. “I… thanks. I don’t think that that’d be good, yeah.”

“Well, it would be a shame to let you destabilize just like that, wouldn’t it?” She shook out a few pills into his hand. This was just… a study. An ordinary ghost wouldn’t have any desire for painkillers, and it definitely wouldn’t be able to process them. But would Phantom be any different?

“Yeah…” He made a face, hand curling closed around the painkillers like she might take them away again. “Well, thanks anyway, I suppose.”

Jack’s thudding footsteps sounded, and he appeared down the stairs. In one hand, he held a glass of water. In the other, a plate with a few sandwiches. “Sorry, we didn’t have anything quicker.”

He walked up closer, handing the glass to Phantom first. The ghost took it in his empty hand, fingers carefully wrapping around it, slick with condensation.

“Thanks.” The ghost raised the hand with pills to his mouth first, dropping them all in before chasing them with a big gulp of water. He made a face, following it with several smaller sips of water. “Eugh. That stuff never tastes good, does it?”

“It’s not supposed to taste good,” she pointed out, quirking an eyebrow. “You realize that, right?”

“Of course I do, I’m not an idiot.” He leaned backwards slightly, emptying the rest of the glass in one go. “Doesn’t mean I gotta like it.”

He handed the glass back to Jack, exchanging it for one of the sandwiches. Didn’t even try to grab the whole plate.

“Are you sure you don’t want more?” Jack asked, gesturing the plate at Phantom. “Those are some serious injuries to heal from.”

“Yeah, I guess, but…” Phantom shrugged, taking another bite of the sandwich before continuing. “It’s getting late. Wouldn’t want to ruin my appetite.”

Maddie could feel her eyebrow raising. “Dinner plans, Phantom?”

“I… uh.” His shoulders came up, suddenly, as he seemed to remember where he was. “Kinda, yeah…”

He took another bite of the sandwich, dropping his eyes down to his loosely folded legs.

Phantom looked like a scolded kid. It was the only thing she could think off. The way he curled up on himself, the tension in his shoulders. It just reminded her so, so much of Danny, whenever she scolded him.

Her heart stuttered in her chest, and she cursed herself. She couldn’t feel sorry for him. He was just a ghost! He was— he was doing it on purpose, to make her feel bad! To make them let him go!

The ghost continued eating in complete silence. His hair hung down over his face, barely moving anymore. The lines of his shoulders taught.

“Look, Phantom…” She paused, looking over at Jack. He shrugged back, looking equally unsure of himself. “We’re ghost hunters. We can’t just… let a ghost go.”

“Especially not one as fascinating as I am?” he sneered back, bitterly. He looked up, suddenly, venomous green meeting her eyes. “That’s all I am in the end, huh? No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I let myself get hurt just so no one else has to! In the end I’m just some ghost, to cut up and experiment on!”

She flinched back, involuntarily. The glow around his body, barely visible before, had flared out with his temper.

“It’s not like that,” Jack tried, feebly.

“No?” Phantom hissed back, the warble of static layered heavily over his voice once more. “Then what is this, huh?”

“We’re helping you.” She straightened her back, her fists balling automatically. “We’ve stitched you up, given you painkillers, fed you.”

“Because you didn’t want to lose me,” he countered. His lips curled, showing her once more those green gums and vicious teeth. Fangs. He’d had fangs all along, and she had never noticed until he bared them at her. “Because I was such a precious study object! And the painkillers, the food—”

He flung out an arm. “I bet that all that was just a test, to see if I was faking any of it! Could I really process food? Do painkillers really work on me? Wow!”

“Would you have preferred it if we hadn’t done any of that?” she snapped back. “That we’d left you smearing ectoplasm all over the place until you destabilized?”

“You are the one who broke into our vehicle.” She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. Getting into a shouting match would accomplish nothing. “You passed out in the back of the Ghost Assault Vehicle.”

That seemed to take all the wind out of his sails. Phantom spluttered, but his glow dimmed significantly already. “I— That’s not what we were talking about!”

“You practically served yourself up to us,” she continued, her voice flat. “What else did you expect, a heavily injured ghost unconscious in the vehicle of ghost hunters?”

His shoulders came up again, Phantom halfway through curling up in a ball. He muttered venomously, some ghost-speak noise again.

And, again, Maddie somehow understood exactly what he said.

‘parents,’ he had hissed, from the very center of his being. An almost sardonic tone to it, somehow.

“Look, Phantom,” Jack said, picking up Maddie’s slack. “We’re ghost hunters. Supposedly, so are you. We found a potentially dangerous ghost in our vehicle without our knowledge, and we made the decision to patch you up. Regardless of the reasoning behind it, what else would you have wanted us to do? What would you have done, in this situation?”

“I…” Phantom sighed, blowing the hair out of his face. “I would’ve patched them up, too. But I definitely wouldn’t have told them that I saved them just because they were so fascinating, because I wanted nothing more than to experiment on them.”

“Would you have rather had us lie to you?” Jack asked, bluntly. “Would you rather have had us tell you that we patched you up out of the goodness of our hearts?”

“I… no.” Phantom shook his head, wrapped his arms around his bare chest. The picture of uncertainty. “No, because I know you would’ve been lying. You’ve been hunting ghosts for research for ages. Me, especially. There’s no way you would’ve patched me up out of kindness.”

“So then what do you want from us?” Maddie asked, shoving her thoughts to the back of her mind for now. “You didn’t want us to let you dissipate in our van. You didn’t want us to lie about why we helped you, but you don’t want us to tell you truth about that, either. What option does that leave?”

Phantom gritted his teeth, his glow suddenly brightening and immediately dimming again. “I don’t know! I just— Can’t you just be nice! Couldn’t you just fix me up out of the goodness of your hearts and mean it?!”

His fingers clawed in his hair as he curled even further into a ball, only the broken leg staying in its place. His shoulders were taught with tension, shaking lightly.

It sounded like… like he was sniffling.

Crying?

She grimaced, turning to look at Jack. He, too, seemed completely thrown off by the display.

It was just…

It was so genuine.

The shaking of the shoulders, the soft sounds of muffled crying, the barely visible glint of tears, the hitch in his breath, the soft keening of his core.

The hitch of his breath?

Hesitantly, Jack reached out. Placed one of his hands on Phantom’s shoulders—so big it almost covered the entire area. “Shh, kiddo.”

Phantom shook harder, but didn��t try to throw off Jack’s hand. The hitching of his breath was clearly audible now.

And Maddie…

Maddie didn’t know what to do. She knew how to comfort kids, and her heart clenched, demanded she help this teen, too. This kid that reminded her so much of her Danny.

But she didn’t know what to do. Phantom was supposed to be just another ghost. An ectoplasmic abomination that had lied and faked its way into everyone’s hearts.

Not this.

Not a teen, warbling “mom” at a stranger who cleaned his wounds. Not a teen who had hidden in their car when he’d gotten too injured to get away, searching for something that reminded him of his parents. For someone who’d keep him safe like his parents would’ve, should’ve.

“Oh, Phantom,” she said, threading her fingers through his hair. It was soft, still wet where she’d cleaned it. Still stained faintly green from his own ectoplasm. “Oh, honey… Why have you hidden this for so long? You are so… so human.”

He keened again, shaking harder under their hands. And in the sound, she heard ‘love acceptance warmth caring’ and ‘not me not mine not for ghosts’.

And for once, Maddie Fenton ignored her curiosity to focus on the crying ghost in their lab.

“Shh,” she told him, soothingly combing her fingers through his messy hair. “It’ll be alright, Phantom. We… It was our mistake. We were wrong.”

“We were so wrong,” Jack chimed in, rubbing circles on Phantom’s back. “We… You’re just a kid. How long have you been dead, kiddo? How old are you really?”

Phantom sniffled, and, voice warbling with emotion, said, “Two years. I— Sixteen.”

“Oh, sweetie.” He was so human, so young. He could’ve been her own son. “We’ve been so wrong. We never should’ve shot at you, never should’ve threatened you.”

“We let our assumptions lead us,” Jack agreed, quiet. Soft. “Phantom, we’re so sorry. Hey, shh. It’ll be alright.”

The ghost, so human and yet not, shook his head. Only slightly, just enough that Maddie’s hand didn’t dislodge.

“We’ll make it alright,” Maddie promised him, instead. Fierce, sharp. Determined. “Let us make it up, Phantom. Let us pay for our mistakes.”

“Don’t wanna,” he mumbled back, so quiet she could barely hear him. “Lemme leave.”

“Of course you can,” Jack assured him, still rubbing circles on Phantom’s back. “We won’t stop you, kiddo. We just want you to be safe.”

Phantom sniffled again. Slowly turned his head, until a single vivid green eye looked up at Maddie.

It was ringed with red, green-tinted tears still tracking down over his cheek.

“Do you?” he asked. He sounded… shattered. The echo of ghost-speak behind his voice wavered like glass in a storm.

“You’re just some kid in way over your head.” Maddie let her hand drop from his head, instead trying to convey her genuineness through her gaze. “You’re… barely a teenager. No one can—no one should—blame you for any of the damages you’ve caused, trying to help.”

“You’ve tried so hard, despite your death,” Jack chimed in, his hand stilling too. “You’ve died, and you’re still so good.”

“You’re so good, Phantom. I wish you were one of ours.” Maddie reached forward, slowly, wiping the tears off of his cheek. “If you ever need us, for anything, please don’t hesitate to come by.”

“I—” Phantom’s voice crackled, and he sniffled again. Wiped his own hand past the other eye. “I don’t— I can’t—”

“Please just promise us that.” Jack let his hand slip off of Phantom’s back, placing it on the edge of the table instead. He, too, stared pleadingly at Phantom. “We won’t force you to do anything, kiddo, we’re just asking. Let us help.”

Maddie slid the stained gloves over towards Phantom. “Phantom, we obviously remind you of your parents.”

The ghost hunched up again, slightly. Green spread over his cheeks like a blush. She pushed on. “You called me Mom when I cleaned off your wounds. You hid in the GAV because you felt safe in it, because it reminded you of your parents. They’re obviously not here, because you’ve died or because they’ve died or because of some combination of those, but you’re still allowed to want that comfort. And we are willing to give you that. It’s the least we can do, to repay what we’ve done to you, what we’ve threatened you with.”

“I—” His breath hitched again. “I don’t… I’ll keep it in mind.”

Well, she supposed they could hardly push for more. She didn’t think she’d be so open to accepting help from them either, if she’d been in Phantom’s place.

“Please do,” she told him instead. Patted him on the right knee. “Whatever it is, whatever you’re struggling with. You’re always welcome at our place. Okay?”

“Okay,” he whispered back. He wiped over his face again. “I gotta… I gotta get going.”

“Dinner plans, right?” She stepped backwards to give him some space. “You’d better eat well, young man.”

Phantom grunted, a noise vaguely underlined with acceptance. He stuck his arms through his sleeves, carefully pulling the jumpsuit back up over his upper body.

“And be careful with your injuries.” Jack handed Phantom the gloves, having apparently scooped them off of the table at some point. “Those stitches in your side will need some time to heal before you take them out, and your broken leg… Well, you’d know better than us how it heals, but still.”

“I know how to take care of myself,” Phantom grumbled back, pulling on his gloves. He grimaced at the left one, more green than white with his spilled ectoplasm. It had dried, crackling uncomfortably as he moved his fingers. “Despite the evidence of the contrary.”

He pushed himself off of the table, suddenly. Maddie jerked forward automatically, but Phantom hovered above the ground, his leg held limply.

The ghost raised further up, until he floated at their eye level. “I… Thanks. For helping me. And… the apologies, I guess.”

“It was the least we could do,” she assured him, crossing her arms loosely. “Please, Phantom, come to us if you need anything.”

“I’ll… keep it in mind.” He shimmered, turning transparent. Then, suddenly, he dove upwards, and then he was gone.

“Well…” Jack cleared his throat. “That… That happened.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, looking at the empty table. It’s surface was stained green with Phantom’s ectoplasm, a small puddle left where he’d bled the worst. “God, Jack. What have we done?”

“Something we’ve learned from. Something we won’t ever do again.” He looked up, meeting her eyes. “That’s all we can do, Mads. Make amends to the best of our abilities.”

She nodded, slowly. “We’d better get working on cleaning the lab. We’ll need to go through all our research on ghosts, strip it down to the base observations. Start over from scratch.”

“Yeah.” He rubbed a thumb over the edge of the stain on the table, absentmindedly. “But first, we should focus on our own kids, I think.”

Maddie paused. Turned to look at the clock. “Oh lord, you’re right. I’d better get started on dinner.”

“I’ll start on cleaning the lab.” Jack nodded at the stairs. “You go take care of the wonderful kids we already have, instead of worrying about Phantom.”

“Thanks, honey.” She pressed a kiss against his cheek, before turning to rush up the stairs.

He was right. They already had two wonderful kids. Worrying about Phantom would do them no good, not unless the ghost would accept their help.

The door to the kitchen swung open, and Maddie stared in the startled blue eyes of her son, the lingering sounds of the conversation she’d just cut short between him and his sister.

“Oh, kids, I’m so sorry. I’ll get started on dinner right away.”

“Something distracting in the lab?” Jazz asked, getting out of her chair. “Can I help?”

“If you could help me peel these potatoes, that’d be wonderful…” She passed a pan and a knife to Jazz. “And, yes, I suppose you could say as much.”

Danny laughed. She turned to look at him, at his cautious grin. “Must be something big.”

“Yeah,” she answered, watching him angle his head slightly. Letting his black hair slide down his face, parting just right for her to see a flash of dark red against pale skin. A scab on his temple, right where… right where Phantom had had a scab, too.

But… surely that couldn’t be?

No, it was just her mind playing things off.

Right?

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 20 #phic phight 2020 #dp fanfic #phanfic #phanfiction #dp fanfiction #maddie fenton #danny fenton #jack fenton #dark writes #me at the start of the month: my goal is to hit 30k :)#me now: *will probably hit 60k at least*#AAAAAAA

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doctorstethoscope · 3 years

Text

The Right Chapter 23 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

hello my loves! Some of you may have already seen this, but I have news! This fic is officially complete. There are thirty chapters, so you still have seven left after today’s update. I’ll be keeping the usual Tuesday/Saturday posting schedule, so you have a month left of updates.

Now that I am done drafting this fic, my requests will be open while I begin to bank up new chapters of the Hotch x Reader Scandal!AU that I plan to write next. Please send in requests here. I would also LOVE if you could fill out this survey about the Scandal!AU so I can get a sense of what you all would like. I will make sure to write it in a way that makes sense, even if you haven’t seen Scandal!

As always, thanks so much for reading, y’all are just the best.

Read previous chapters of this fic here!

contains: canon-typical descriptions of violence, cursing, hospital mention

wordcount: 2.3k

A little while later, Hotch sends JJ and Emily to the school to interview the classmates of the students who had been murdered, and you and Morgan head off to the medical examiner’s office.

“Find anything interesting in the calls from the tip line?” Morgan asks you as he pulls out of the parking lot, and you shrug.

“I need to go back through my notes. There were a couple kids' names that came up, but I want to go back and cross check for the names that came up more than once-- i figure if the name only comes up once, it’s kids pranking each other and I don’t want to waste our time on dead ends. Garcia’s looking into a teacher for me, though.”

“We just need a couple more puzzle pieces, and then it’ll all come together,” Derek says, more to himself than to you, and you murmur out your agreement as he pulls into the examiner’s office.

“Cause of death for Mrs. Mack and Mrs. Sutton was a gunshot wound to the neck. The daughters, to the abdomen,” the doctor says, passing over her report. “The men were all strangled. The boys by hand, the men with a garrote.”

“Any idea what order they were killed in?” You asked.

“My guess is the women first, one right after the other. Then the sons, and the husbands.”

“How did he stop the husbands from taking him down while he killed the sons?” Morgan asks skeptically.

The medical examiner points out a bruise on Mr. Sutton’s skull. “Looks like he was knocked unconscious, maybe by the butt of the gun or something in the home.” She explains.

“Thank you,” you said to the medical examiner, who smiled and left you both to your work.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Morgan asks you.

“White man in his twenties or thirties, snubbed by a woman he desired for another man, taking out the families he’s convinced he’ll never have?”

“Call Hotch,” he said, taking off at a brisk pace back towards the car and trusting you to follow. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and discovered that Garcia was already calling you.

“Hi Garcia, can you patch Hotch in?” You asked.

“Already here bug, and trust me, you’re gonna want to hear this.” She told you, and you put the phone on speaker so Morgan could listen in while he drove.

“What did you find, Garcia?” Hotch asked.

“So, I looked into Marc Vexper, and it turns out this long-term English sub has something to hide-- he didn’t make a single card purchase on either day that he was out, and his phone was completely off from the moment he stepped off the school’s campus to the time he returned.”

“Morgan and I are just leaving the medical examiner’s office now-- Marc fits the profile to a tee.” You interject.

“Oh but wait, the high school of horrors doesn’t end there,” Garcia warns you. “I took a peek at Marc’s texts looking for clues about his whereabouts, and I noticed some too-friendly chats with Victoria Sullivan, a student in his AP Literature class. Her phone was on both days, and I’ll give you one guess as to where she was both days-- and it wasn’t school.”

“You’re kidding,” Morgan sighs out.

“So did he groom Victoria into doing it herself, or was she an accomplice?” Hotch asked.

“The men were strangled, Aaron. There’s no way she could have done that herself.” You tell him.

“We need an address, Penelope.” Hotch demands.

“Already on your phone. The station’s closest.” She tells you.

“We’ll meet you there.” Hotch says, and the line clicks.

In a routine you’ve performed too many times to count, Morgan flicks on the lights and sirens as you mount your phone with the GPS sending you in the right direction. It’s all the same as it usually is, so why are you so nervous?

**********************

Hotch elects not to put on his lights and sirens as he approaches Mr. Vexper’s house, not wanting to alert him that anyone had found him out. There are two cars in the driveway-- a modest sedan with a few dings in it, and a shitbox of an old jeep with a parking permit for the local high school on the back bumper.

“The girl is here-- she might be a hostage.” Hotch tells Spencer, who nods. “We need to be careful. There’s no need for any other kids to lose their lives,” he says, quietly opening up his car door and gesturing for Spencer to take a back entrance while he takes the front. He climbs the worn wooden steps and peeks into the window, seeing nothing before he takes one hand off of his gun to swing open the front door of the home, where he’s met face to face with the Victoria Sullivan, standing on the main stairway of the home, gun leveled square at the middle of his forehead.

“Victoria, put the gun down,” Hotch says slowly, raising his own hands as a sign of good faith. “I’m here to help you. Where’s Marc?”

Before Victoria can answer, Hotch hears the woosh of metal in the air and feels an overwhelming crack in his legs, falling to the ground as he yelps in pain.

“Run, Vicky! You know where to go!” Marc yells, and the girl disappears from Hotch’s blurring line of vision as March continues to beat on Hotch with a crowbar, stomping on his legs.

Hotch vaguely hears Spencer's running footsteps, and Marc takes off, running in the same direction as Victoria.

Spencer falls to the ground next to Hotch, attempting to gently tend to his injuries, but Hotch weakly waves him off.

“Go, go, save the girl, he’ll kill her next. I’m okay. Go,” he coughs out, and after a moment’s hesitation, Spencer goes.

Hotch groans as he gropes around in his pants pocket, pulling out his cell phone and calling Garcia.

“I need help,” he says once the line clicks.

****************

If Aaron lived through this, you were going to kill him yourself. You knew you were being irrational, you knew it wasn’t his fault, and worst of all you know that he hadn’t even done something you could be mad at him for, like going in without backup. This was just the job. This just happened sometimes. And you were absolutely fucking livid that it was happening to him. Not to mention scared shitless.

Morgan had pumped the gas as soon as Garcia called, but it still wasn’t fast enough. Your leg bounced anxiously in the passenger seat.

“He’s gonna be fine,” Morgan attempted to placate you, but you wouldn’t have it.

“You don’t know that,” you spat out.

“He’s tough. He’s got a lot to stick around for. He’s gonna be okay,” He tells you, and this time you don’t argue.

When you finally pull up to the house, Aaron is on a stretcher being loaded onto an ambulance. You throw yourself out of the SUV before it’s even fully stopped, calling out for Aaron.

“I’m okay,” he sputters out as you climb into the back of the ambulance.

“No you aren’t, you asshole,” you scoffed at him, your voice a little watery. “Tell the paramedics what happened so they can help you,” you said, stroking at the hair at the top of his head as your chin quivered.

“Don’t cry,” he says, reaching up for you and you see that his hands are bloody.

“Shh, shhh. Don’t worry about me. Let them help you,” you calmed him down, trying not to let your tears interrupt the medics when his eyes roll into the back of his head and he loses consciousness.

Aaron will live, and you suppose you won’t follow through on your threats to kill him. Once he’s in the hospital, they wheel him back to a restricted area, leaving you alone in a waiting room while the rest of the team finds the unsub. You call Jess, let her know what’s going on, but ask that she keep it from Jack until you’re back in the room with him and Hotch is able to talk to Jack himself. You didn’t want Jack to worry, and you knew that Aaron’s assurance that he was fine was the only comfort Jack would accept.

After a while-- it could have been thirty minutes or three hours, Emily appears in the waiting room..

“I was appointed to come check on you,” she says by way of greeting. “Have you seen him yet?”

“Not since they took him out of the ambulance. He looked… bad,” you struggle to find a word that explains the magnitude of it.

“He’s gonna be fine. No gunshot wounds, just some nasty bruises. I’m sure it looked worse than it actually was.” She consoles you gently.

“I hope you’re right.”

At that moment, a doctor appears in the doorway. “For Agent Hotchner?” He asks, and you walk over to him.

“I’m Aaron’s partner,” you explain, the word “girlfriend” feeling entirely too childish for the scenario.

“Agent Hotchner is going to be just fine. His left leg is fractured slightly at the femur and the kneecap, but we’ve put him in a brace to stabilize the knee, and he should recover over the next eight to twelve weeks. He’ll need some physical therapy, and field work is out of the question until he is cleared, but he’ll make a full recovery. He has a mild concussion and a few bruised ribs, but we’ve given him some meds for the pain and the concussion shouldn’t present any further complications.”

No field work. Aaron was going to be pissed. “Thank you, doctor.” You said gratefully.

“He’s been asking for you, if you’d like to follow me,” The doctor responds, and you allow him to lead you down a maze of hallways, leaving you just outside Aaron’s room, where his eyes are shut and his chest rises and falls slowly. Figures, you were sure he’d been up all night running through profiles in his head.

You sat on his right side, away from his injured leg, and rested your head against his mattress, near his hip bone. He looked so fragile like this, wrapped up in a thin blanket and a johnny, bandaged from his collar bone to his toes. You wondered, briefly, if he felt this helpless and frustrated the night that he picked you up from your old apartment. The tears well up against your will, but you allow them to fall, for a few moments. You had earned the right to care for him, to worry about him, to fret. You had earned the right to sit vigil at his hospital bed and try to force images of a lifetime lived without him to stop passing through your head.

Aaron stirred, and you sucked in a quick breath, not wanting to wake him. He settled, again, and you rested your head back against the mattress, letting the gentle rhythm of his breath lull you to sleep.

He twitches a little while later, and the sudden movement jolts you awake. His return to the waking world is slower, and you let him come at it at his own pace, not wanting to overwhelm him when he was probably already going to be in pain and disoriented. You hear him mumble out your name and you stand, placing one hand on his cheek and the other in his uninjured palm.

“I’m right here, baby,” you whispered to him.

“Are you okay?” He asks, trying to look you up and down without moving his neck.

“Am I--” you chided gently. “Honey, I’m fine. Are you okay? Does anything hurt?”

“My leg,” he tells you, trying to sit up, but you push back on his shoulders.

“Absolutely not,” you tell him. “You broke your leg. You are staying in this bed until a doctor tells you otherwise.”

“Fuck,” Aaron muttered out. Suddenly, a thought occurs to him. “Is Spencer okay? And the girl, Victoria Sullivan?”

“The team took them both alive. Spencer is fine, just a little breathless from his run.” You tell him.

“When is it gonna heal?” He switches topics back to his injury.

“You mean, when are you going to be allowed into the field again?” You asked skeptically, and he at least has the good grace to look sheepish. “Not for at least six weeks, more than likely closer to ten, plus physical therapy.”

“God damnit,” Aaron sighs.

“It could have been a lot worse, Aaron,” you point out softly, and he looks up at you.

“You’ve been crying.” He says softly.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Don’t lie to a profiler,” He chides you gently.

“Well, I’m the woman who loves you and I’ve earned the right to cry when you’re hurt.” You said defensively, but not unkindly.

“Hey, I’m okay. Really, I swear. Come up here,” he urges you, and you roll your watery eyes.

“I’ll hurt you,” you tell him.

“You’ll hurt me worse if you don’t come cuddle,” he pouts.

“Corny bastard,” you chuckle, tenderly sliding into bed next to him.

Unable to shift and cuddle, Aaron settles for reaching out for your hand, which you allow him to take in his own. He strokes his thumb over the back of your palm tenderly.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he whispers, and you might start crying again right there.

“Don’t do it again. I was ready to kill you myself,” you warned him.

“Noted.”

“We should call Jack. I didn’t tell him what was going on, I didn’t want to scare him. Jess knows.”

“I just… want to hold your hand for a couple more minutes.”

“Okay, love. A few more minutes.”

tagging: @romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee @zheezs14 @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13 @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner @ijustwannaread2k19 @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

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talesfromthepayload · 4 years

Text

The Fall Part Two

A/N: Did I get totally distracted and let this take over my life? Yes, I did. Do I regret it? Only a little bit. Also, the reader’s intended age for the purpose of this fic is 23 at the start. (So yeah, there’s a bit of an age difference, but this is also me being entirely self indulgent.) This chapter is kind of heavily focused on Gabriel, but don’t worry the other two will be very involved coming up.

Gabriel Reyes did not make decisions lightly.

Despite the fact that they seemed often impulsive or lacking certain forethought, he knew what he was doing, and he was confident doing it. Hiring you was not a mistake.

Jack had called him and Gérard in a few days prior to discuss your onboarding. He, too, had been intrigued by what you had to offer, but he’d been hesitant. They’d found an issue while reviewing your history, and it’d become clear that your file had been tampered with. If Gabriel had to wager a guess, he’d say you did it.

So, Jack hesitated. He wanted to dig around more, try and see why it needed to be tampered with to begin with. But Gabriel wasn’t going to let your potential go. He needed Blackwatch agents, had for a while, but those with the potential were few and far between.

He knew Jack was going to be pissed when he realized what he’d done, but he couldn’t quite find it in himself to be sorry. His intuition hasn’t failed him yet.

He leaned back with his feet on his desk, watching the security feed. He didn’t give you any information, a final test to see if you were as good as he thought you were.

Genji and McCree had tried to convince him to spar this morning, but he wasn’t passing up the opportunity of watching you walk through those doors.

It was seven o’clock on the dot when he saw your familiar figure. You were dressed in all black, a jumpsuit tailored specifically to that suit of armor you had built it seemed. It clung to you like a second skin, and had a deep v-neck in the front. There was a briefcase in one hand that helped you blend in with some of the higher ups.

Reyes knew the minute he saw you he was going to have one hell of a time keeping McCree away. The boy flirted with anything with a pulse. You were young, far too young for any of them to be looking at you, and pretty.

Maybe he was being selfish by bringing you to Blackwatch. They were all jaded and scarred, and you looked like you’d fit perfectly in Angela’s Valkyrie suit.

Still, a certain amount of pride swelled in his chest as he watched you navigate through the wide expanse of the Swiss base. There was no hiccup in your step, nothing suggesting you were anywhere you shouldn’t be.

You were even swiping into rooms that should’ve been entirely out of access for you, yet that didn’t stop you. It was mesmerizing, to be quite honest, the way you walked through crowds like you had every right to be there.

You didn’t stop until you were in the hallway outside of his office, and he sat up straighter to greet you. However, you paused, taking a moment to look up at the camera. Your eyes met his through the screen, and there was a pleased smile on your lips.

He echoed the gesture, letting out a few breathy laughs, before a knock sounded at his door. You didn’t wait for him to answer, instead walking through the threshold with the same confidence you had throughout the base.

“You need better security,” you commented.

Gabriel walked around his desk so that there was nothing but a few feet of air between the both of you.

“There are very few people who could do what you just did,” he said, shrugging one shoulder.

Your lips were pulled in amusement but you didn’t offer anything more on the subject. You laid your briefcase to rest nearby, and he couldn’t help but wonder what was in there or if it was just for show.

“Blackwatch, huh?” Your eyes darted around the room before they settled on him.

He found himself unconsciously standing straighter and puffing his chest out.

“Overwatch didn’t strike me as the type to have secret divisions,” you admitted, taking a few steps closer to him. “And boy do you get into some trouble.”

There was something distinctly playful in your gaze, and Gabriel thought it was more charming than anything. He’d never been a stickler for the rules like Jack, thus his relationship with the agents under him was a little more lax. You were blatantly flirting though, and he found it absolutely amusing.

He realized right then and there that putting you and McCree in the same room was a recipe for disaster.

“I’d say you do too, but I can’t be sure with that fake file you sent us.”

It was a callout- a challenge, really, and boy did you rise to it.

“We all have secrets, Gabriel,” you shrugged nonchalantly, gesturing to the door. “Like hiring me without consulting the Strike Commander.”

As if on queue, Jack shoved the door out of his way. Ana was close on his heels, like she was trying to temper the storm. Genji had followed them in, obviously drawn to the commotion. Gabriel knew that McCree had wandered off, not bothering to stick around if he didn’t need to. You had a quirked brow, and despite the anger of his oldest friend, he couldn’t be drawn away from the small smirk on your lips.

“Gabriel I told you to-”

He stopped short, his loud voice deafening instantly as he noticed your presence.

He was taken aback, just for a moment, though Gabriel recognized the look in Jack’s eyes. Yeah, he may have also wanted you on Blackwatch because he knew that Jack had a type, and you were most definitely his type. Intelligent, good looking, quick witted, and frustratingly optimistic- he knew that, even if it was done unconsciously, Jack would want you under his command because of it. That and the fact that he’d seen Jack spend hours reading about the work you’d done like it was the damn gospel.

“Don’t stop on my account,” you giggled, holding your hands up in surrender.

The Strike Commander blinked, clearly caught off guard.

Ana cleared her throat, shooing away Genji and shutting the door behind him, leaving the four of you alone in his office. The anger on Jack’s face was lessening, and his exterior was becoming more fitting of his title.

“Apologies, I didn’t realize you were here already.” His voice was tight, and he looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Gabriel was leaning back, looking for all the world like he could care less about what was transpiring. In reality, he was very interested in how the esteemed Strike Commander would act.

“I figured,” you nodded your head in Gabriel’s direction, “Someone’s not very forthcoming with information.”

His expression didn’t show an ounce of regret. If anything, his lack of telling you important information further proved how much his team could use you.

Jack bit his tongue, and Ana piped up to fill the silence.

“You know, Jack, I think Gabriel might be right on this one.”

You sent a warm look towards Ana, and it brought a smile to his face. Ana had always had a motherly attitude about her, it made people gravitate towards her.

“I know,” Jack sighed, running a hand through his blonde- slightly greying- hair, before holding it out to you.

You took it without hesitation, shaking firmly.

“I’m Jack Morrison,” he introduced himself, gesturing to the woman behind him. “This is Captain Ana Amari, though I’ve heard you’ve already met. And that is-”

“We’ve had introductions already,” Gabriel assured him, unable to help but add on: “I hope Genji didn’t make too much of a mess.”

You shrugged, walking past him with the same confidence you had making your way there in the first place.

“I figured now that we’re all friendly we can talk about my stolen research.”

You didn’t waste any time. Gabriel moved to watch from over your shoulder when you started typing on his computer. He was a bit miffed you hadn’t even asked him, but thoroughly impressed when three beeps sounded, alerting to the others in the room that you had successfully logged on.

“What was the research on?” Jack asked. “I’ve been reviewing your other projects, but I’m assuming you kept the one Talon stole private.”

“You assume correctly,” you smiled, looking up to shoot him a wink before going back to whatever it was you were doing.

Gabriel didn’t miss the small blush that colored Jack’s cheeks.

“IPI,” you said, pressing a couple of buttons on your watch. “Access file 07129.”

“Accessing,” a robotic voice replied.

You pinched your fingers together above your watch, before expanding them. As you did so, a holographic projection jumped to life around you. Gabriel couldn’t be too sure of what he was looking at, but it resembled the watch you wore around your wrist.

“What is it?” He finally questioned.

You puffed out a breath.

“Well, it was the first trial of my experiment.” You explained, spinning the hologram so that they could see all of the angles. “When I was a kid I wanted to save my mom. There wasn’t anything I could do realistically, so I started looking at the impossible.”

You came around Gabriel’s desk to lean gently against the front.

“Two years ago I had my first major breakthrough with temporal manipulation. I used chronal acceleration to propel an object forward in time, though just by a few seconds.”

You fiddled with your watch.

“Further experimentation and research brought me to a final conclusion. Three weeks ago I solved the mystery of time travel.”

Whatever Gabriel had been expecting, it had not been that. It didn’t sound real. There was no way somebody could just travel through time, was there?

“It took a lot of time. I had to input different equations and study the theory itself, but if they decode my work they’re going to have a fully fledged time machine on their hands and the whole of history to mess with.”

The friends shot each other looks as the room petered off into quiet once more. There was an uneasy air about, and Gabriel shifted his stance.

“Let’s get to work finding it then,” Jack finally stated, a hand moving towards the communicator by his ear.

You didn’t give him a chance to continue.

“Already done,” you exclaimed. “Atleast, potential hits.”

You fiddled with the holographic interface in front of you, lines of code swirling around your person.

“I’ve cross referenced the file number I originally gave the design through every major international database, as well as a few minor ones that have had previous ties to Talon. Most of the searches came up empty, but I did find a repeat of the word ‘chronos’ in the few encryptions I could find.”

“So they named it,” Reyes realized.

The grin you gave him was dazzling and wide.

“Project chronos got a lot more hits, though the information was scattered. You see, Talon doesn’t use its own mainframe for most of their work. They encrypt data into other locations and spread them out at seemingly random, so it’s difficult to follow.”

“But you followed it?” Jack inquired, a small smile tugging on his lips. It was obvious he was more than impressed.

“Sort of,” you conceded, “Like I said, it’s exceedingly difficult to track, but I managed to narrow down the locations.”

Jack and Ana shared a look, before he leveled you with that proud commander smile he’d nearly perfected.

“Good work, soldier. Send the coordinates and we’ll get recon teams there as soon as possible.”

With a swipe of your hand, the holographic images disappeared.

“Better yet, I’ll bring you there.”

Gabriel frowned at the sudden fall in Jack’s expression. He knew that Jack wouldn’t be letting you out into the field anytime soon. It wasn’t protocol, and Jack had enough people breathing down his neck.

“You still have to finish your basic training,” Ana said softly, taking a step forward.

You furrowed your brows.

“I can finish it later.” You assured them. “This is a hell of a lot more pressing.”

Jack shook his head, trying for a more gentle approach.

“We can’t let agents into the field who haven’t finished their initial training.”

“But this is my research…”

Your eyes were pleading with the two of them. Ana looked stern, but Jack couldn’t maintain eye contact. It was clear he wanted you on the mission too, if only because you knew what you were doing.

“We’ll send a recon team, and if you finish your basic training quickly enough, you can be a part of the strike team.”

Gabriel made the decision for them, and though you didn’t seem entirely satisfied, the answer still had you nodding. Jack gave him a look, one that told him they’d be having a long discussion later on, and turned his attention back to you.

“You’ll be reporting to me for your training.”

Gabriel wondered why he was keen on training you himself. He didn’t personally train recruits anymore- hadn’t for a while.

“As for Blackwatch,” Jack leveled Gabriel with a hard stare. “Gabriel will handle any additional training.”

He inclined his head in acknowledgement, letting the man know he understood. Jack was leaving your combat skills mostly to Gabriel.

Jack turned his back to where you stood, effectively ending the conversation. He only made it as far as the door before he stopped himself short.

“I did want to ask,” he began, “Why the fake documents?”

One hip was propped forward, and you looked as comfortable as could be. Your smile was a fair bit mischievous as you stretched languidly.

“I can’t show my hand before you’ve shown yours.”

Ana hid her smirk.

“Right,” Morrison affirmed, stomping away with the same confidence and authority he always wielded.

Ana was quick to follow, though her steps were quieter.

A tenseness settled in the air with them gone, and Gabriel didn’t dare to be the first to interrupt it. You were idly tapping your fingers on his desk, seemingly lost in thought. Finally, after a few moments, you pulled yourself from your own thoughts.

“So,” you drawled, siddling on up to him with your brightest, most friendly smile. “When’s the tour?”

Gabriel fought the twitch of his lips, instead giving you a deadpan look.

“Training starts now.”

It was a statement you barely had time to register before his fist was flying out. You dodged it narrowly, taking a few steps back to find a proper fighting stance.

“You sure are violent,” you muttered.

He didn’t offer a verbal response, instead going for a second strike. When you moved to avoid the attack, he changed tactics last minute, forcing you to the ground. The floor was cold and hard, leaving your back arched at the sudden sensation.

“Okay, not cool.”

“Sloppy,” Gabriel tsked from above, looking like he put no effort into taking you down.

The anger that morphed onto your face reminded him of a cat getting ready to retract its claws. Cute was a word that came to mind, though he didn’t dare say it out loud for fear of pissing you off more.

You rolled out of his reach before jumping back to your feet. Your movements were quick, but unpracticed. You definitely would be able to hold your own against your regular run of the mill civilians, but he was sure you’d need far more practice before you could start taking on fully trained soldiers.

Your eyes were calculating, and he found it a bit unnerving how you seemed to be reading him. From what he’d seen already, and what he’d found in your file, you were a genius. God only knows what you’d found on him already.

He didn’t move a muscle as you approached slowly, cautiously. His stance was firm, and he was ready to go back on the offensive should you decide for an impromptu attack. Still, he watched your body grow closer with a raised brow. Your movements were poised, an elegance not suited for a soldier.

His heart thumping wildly in his chest was the only noise as you leaned up to your tiptoes, keeping less than an inch away from his body. His fingers twitched, and he was idly aware of just how pretty you were. Dangerous was the word his mind supplied. Too pretty and young to keep his mind on more pure thoughts, and it had been so very long since he’d given into more carnal desires.

“You lose,” you whispered, the words kissing his ear, forcing a shiver down his spine.

Your proximity stuttered his system, and it took far longer than normal for him to realize what you’d said.

A questioning hum vibrated in his chest.

You pulled back the smallest bit, a wicked smile on your glossy lips that spoke of a danger he didn’t dare name. Being the devilish little thing you were, you winked, and nodded your head to something just behind him.

He tore his eyes from you, only to be met with the glowing stare of your suit of armor. It had the arm raised, the repulsor beam charged and ready to fire at a moment’s notice. How it’d managed to sneak up on him, he couldn’t be sure, but a frown pulled at his lips.

“That’s cheating.”

His voice was low enough to be a growl. He hoped you could hear the disappointment in it. (Though, if he were being completely honest, he was more disappointed in himself.)

You laughed, a light, melodic sound compared to the normal gruff voices that lingered through the halls of Blackwatch.

“Well, this is not what I expected,” a voice drawled lazily from the doorway.

Gabriel wanted to curse at McCree, but he held his tongue and glared at him instead.

“I think Clint Eastwood got lost,” you mock whispered to the commander.

His frown deepened in an effort to avoid smiling. You either didn’t notice or didn’t care, moving away to properly greet the new arrival.

“Jesse McCree,” Jesse tipped his hat, all charming smiles and vexatious eyes. Even the introduction of his name was a flirt.

“(Y/N),” you replied in kind, and Gabriel didn’t care for the way your name rolled from your tongue. It had far too many implications for one word.

“Pleasure, darlin’.” His voice was smoother than honey.

Gabriel cleared his throat, hoping to draw some attention away from the flirty cowboy and back to the mission at hand.

“I don’t doubt it,” you chuckled gently, eying him up and down before you turned back towards the commander.

“Don’t you have a sparring session to finish, McCree?” The commander bit out, crossing his arms over his chest.

His expression was nothing but intimidation, and the cowboy didn’t look the slightest bit perturbed.

“I was looking for something more interesting to do,” he explained with a shrug. “Looks like I found her.”

You puffed out a breath.

“That one usually work for you?”

“McCree,” Gabriel’s voice was venomous, and despite the cool facade on the younger agent’s face, he knew when pushing his commander was taken too far.

“Right,” Jesse inclined his head, “I’ll be off, but feel free to visit me anytime, sweetheart.”

Gabriel didn’t care to hide the annoyance on his features at the smile you had on yours. Despite McCree’s swift exit, you hadn’t made an effort to turn from where he was standing.

“You sure do have some characters,” you finally said, breaking the silence.

Gabriel blamed his anger on the interruption and useless chatter. Though, maybe it was because of the way your attention shifted so easily to whoever demanded it.

“The suit,” he gruffed, throwing an accusatory thumb to where it stood ready for an attack behind him.

The gun metal grey exterior was sleek, and the body looked almost identical to an outline of your own. Blue lights lined the feet and arms, and despite the flashy look, he knew they held purpose. Clearly, this could house you if you so chose it to.

“The original,” you said, pressing something on the screen of your watch.

The suit operated almost like an omnic would, though he knew there was no consciousness about it. The lights flickered off, and he watched with interest as the suit disassembled itself, until nothing was left but an unsuspecting briefcase. If he hadn’t witnessed it with his own eyes, he probably wouldn’t have believed it.

“It’s not as high tech as the newer models, but it certainly does in a pinch.”

“And you made that?” He asked for confirmation, in genuine awe of your capabilities.

“Nearly eighteen months ago now,” you smiled, though unlike the teasing or mischievous ones, this one was genuine. “If you think that’s cool wait until you see the rest of them.”

He nodded his head in the direction of the door.

“I think it’s time I take you on that tour,” he declared, picking the briefcase off the ground and handing it back to you. “There’s a few people you might be interested in meeting, and a few places I think you’ll enjoy.”

Your fingers brushed his as you took a hold of your briefcase. The contact was fleeting, but warm.

“Lead the way.”

#gabriel reyes x reader #jack morrison x reader #jesse mccree x reader #soldier 76 x reader #reaper x reader #mccree x reader #jesse mccree imagine #soldier 76 imagine #reaper imagine #overwatch x reader #overwatch imagine

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teaplease1717 · 4 years

Text

I'm Here: You’re Not Alone

Ship: Todoroki Shouto x Yaoyorozu Momo

Rating: T

Chapters: 1/1 (Complete)

Ao3: Click Here

I want to give a shout out to everyone who participated or helped out in the @todomomo-mini-bang-2020! This event has blown me away! And thank you to my fellow mods for all your hard work!

Before beginning, I must also thank my betas: FlourChildWrites and Emberstork for your help making this readable. And Taq for giving me some ideas on the ending.

Also big thank you to Marls_Bars21, who has drawn the beautiful piece found in this story. <3

A couple of last notes, there are slight spoilers for the current arc, but they are very light. Also, for this fic, the boys and girls' sides of the U.A. dorm are not separated with a barrier. I imagine it more like a hotel; you go left for the girl’s side and right for the boys.

XXXXXX

The pure black of the night bathed the U.A. campus in velvety darkness.

Inside the dorm, there was a feeling of tension that hung in the air, like static electricity building.

Momo rolled onto her back. Draping her arm over her forehead, she stared up at the silken canopy of her bed and briefly wondered if she'd ever get to see it again. She felt restless.

The truth was no one knew what to expect tomorrow. The heroes had no real insight into how many villains there would be or what their quirks were.

She felt a faint sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t as if she was afraid per se. Perhaps anxious or uneasy were the correct terms. They were only sixteen, yet were being sent off to fight — what was technically a war — against the League of Villains and Meta Liberation Front.

She wished her mother was there to hold her.

Turning over, Momo clicked the power button on her phone. 12:30. Too late to call home. She placed the phone back down and turned back over. She stretched her legs.

She really needed to try and sleep. Her alarm was set for 5:30, less than five hours away. Momo drew in a deep breath to clear her mind, but couldn't fall asleep.

All the top heroes of Japan would be present at tomorrow’s operation.

They’d been divided into four teams, two offensive forces and two support guards. Endeavor, the current number one hero, would be leading the main battalion, which would be over 80 kilometers away from where she would be stationed in the woods.

The likelihood that she would be fighting any of the more powerful villains was slim.

But not nonexistent.

Momo’s mind returned to the current number one hero, and her throat tightened. He had almost lost an eye fighting against the League earlier in the year.

What if an enemy with a power type quirk attacked her tomorrow? She’d be at a distinct disadvantage. Would she even be able to win?

Momo was fairly confident in her deductive and strategic prowess, but in the heat of battle, especially fighting Nomus, there was always a chance of failure.

Her fingers clenched the silken sheets. They had fought the League of Villains before — at last summer's training camp — and, if not for Awase, she would have been cleaved in half by one of the engineered Nomus. A shiver ran down her spine at the memory, and she turned back onto her side, curling into a ball.

What if she got a massive scar across her face like Endeavor?

What if she lost an eye?

No one would ever want to kiss her if she didn’t have both of her eyes. The thought hit her like a bucket of cold water, and Momo instantly felt guilt twist in her stomach. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Disgraceful, she berated herself.

Even if she were to get hurt and lose an eye or a limb, there was a lot more to the world than looks. Besides, getting injured was part of being a hero, too. She should be proud she was participating.

Still, Momo's chest clenched painfully. Anxious butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the thought of never receiving a first kiss.

She drew in a long breath as she turned back over. Her thoughts were jumbled. Momo could almost hear Jirou poking fun at her for jumping to the worst possible conclusions, but she couldn’t help overthinking things. It was hard to turn off her mind when her thoughts started spiraling. She needed to talk to someone or at least not be alone.

Momo debated getting up. Perhaps, Jirou would allow her to sleep in her room. The Earphone Jack Hero might still be awake; she could talk her down from the metaphorical edge. And it wasn’t like her spending the night in Jirou’s room was unprecedented. Momo seemed to always end up there when she had a lot on her mind.

She sighed as she gave up on sleep and got up. Slipping on her house slippers, Momo assessed herself quickly in the mirror hanging on the back of her door, ensuring her white chiffon nightgown was appropriate before heading down to the third floor.

The elevator dinged quietly as the metal doors slid open. Momo tiptoed out and made her way down the dimly lit hallway.

As she rounded the corner to the girl’s side of the dorm, a faint glow from underneath Jirou’s door caught her attention. Momo’s eyes widened, and she inhaled deeply, the tightness in her chest loosening.

She hurried closer, a smile pulling at her lips as she stopped in front of Jirou’s room and raised her hand to knock when soft laughter wafted from behind the closed door. Momo froze; her eyes widened.

Jirou and...Kaminari?

She felt something sink in her stomach, and she pressed her lips together. What was he doing there? It was late; he should be in his own room.

The conversation was muffled by the door, but it was definitely his voice from inside, she was sure of it.

Momo swallowed over the unbidden feeling of jealousy that rose up in her throat. She let her hand drop back down to her side and took a step back.

She shouldn’t interrupt.

It wasn't like people were required to have only one friend. Jirou had no responsibility to her. She was allowed to have friends outside of Momo.

Besides, Jirou and Kaminari had been growing closer recently. Momo would just be intruding if she were to ask to join them.

Her shoulders slumped, and she looked down the long hallway. The only other girl on the third floor was Hagakure.

Would she still be up?

Momo shook her head. She shouldn't be waking her classmates up just because she couldn’t rest and wanted to be with someone.

She sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night and headed back towards the elevator. She paused before the metal doors, her finger ghosting over the raised button for the first floor. Would anyone still be downstairs? Momo pressed her lips together and pulled her hand back.

No.

She really needed to go back to bed. Staying up would set a bad example for all the other students. Besides, she already knew no one would be down there.

Momo drew in a deep breath and pressed the top button.

As she shuffled out of the elevator, she paused. The moon shone through the plexiglass windows like a beacon in the dark. Momo looked to her left. The door to the roof was on the boy’s side. Her fingers twitched.

No one would notice.

She knew from experience that the alarm on the door had been disabled. She could go up there for a few minutes. The fresh air might help calm her, she reasoned as she turned and crept down the right corridor.

There were three boys on the top floor: Satou, Sero, and Todoroki.

Momo’s eyes flickered unconsciously towards Todoroki’s door as she passed. The placard with the twenty-one strokes of his surname glowed faintly in the soft light of the display case.

She bit her lip. She had watched Todoroki since the beginning of the school year. He had been a recommended student like herself and yet had been so different from her. He was strong, confident, unwavering. He was the type of person that brought others calm.

And she admired him immensely.

Momo pressed her hand over her chest as she felt her heartbeat speed up. She didn’t know when it had happened, perhaps when he had encouraged her during the practical exam against Aizawa, but she found herself increasingly fond of her seatmate. It was like a seedling had taken root in her chest, growing slowly over the last months, and transforming her passing crush into a chronic state of pining.

She looked away as she continued towards the stairwell. A selfish part of herself wanted to see him tonight, wanted to be near him. Maybe not to confess — definitely not to confess — but, perhaps she could talk to him like Jirou and Kaminari were doing. Momo’s chest tightened.

Out of all her classmates, Todoroki seemed to understand her better than anyone. He was quiet and unobtrusive, but he knew how to make her smile. And when her thoughts began to spiral as they were doing that night, he always seemed to know how best to save her.

But, Momo wasn’t about to wake him up for something as silly as to talk.

The green exit sign glowed above the stairwell.

She climbed the steps and took a deep breath before pulling open the steel door to the roof. The fluorescent lights flickered to life at her movement. Momo gasped as she stepped outside and felt the crisp April breeze on her face. The wind nipped at her skin, rustling through her nightgown.

For a moment, Momo stood uncertain in the doorway, looking out at the empty concrete space before drawing in a deep breath and moving over to the chain-link fence enclosing the rooftop. She leaned against the cool metal, her fingers slotting into the holes as she gazed out onto the silent campus.

The tall training halls speckled across the forested grounds like boulders sticking out of the sea. And in the distance, the lights of Musutafu shimmered as if they were stars painted across a dark canvas.

A sudden gust caught in her black hair and rustled her white chiffon nightgown, sending a shiver down Momo’s spine.

If it had been a regular school year, this month would have been the school dance. Perhaps, Todoroki would have asked her to go with him. Her heart stuttered as the thought swirled unbidden through her conscience. Momo’s mouth twisted into a frown.

What was wrong with her?

There were far more important things in the world than to be worried about such frivolous things as first kisses and school dances.

Momo closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure where this sudden narcissistic streak had come from, but she needed it to stop.

And yet, was it wrong to crave normalcy? Did being a pro hero really mean she had to leave her other dreams behind?

“Yaoyorozu.”

Momo swallowed over a nervous squeak as her head jerked up. Letting go of the fence, she turned in surprise towards the deep voice that she would have known anywhere and straightened.

Todoroki Shouto stood in the doorway staring at her. He had changed out of his U.A. jersey and into gray sweatpants paired with a white t-shirt that seemed to fit him a tad bit too well.

Momo felt her cheeks and ears grow warm.

“To-Todoroki-san?” Her voice hitched as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “What are you doing up here?”

Todoroki stared at her for several seconds before sighing. His head dropped as he slid a hand out of his pocket to rub the back of his neck.

“I thought I heard you walk by,” he said, giving her a sidelong glance. “You said you always come up here when something is troubling you, so I thought I’d check.”

Momo’s heart leapt at the thought that he had remembered such an inconsequential conversation before she pushed the feeling down.

She licked her lips and dropped her gaze.

“I’m fine,” she said, running her hands down the front of her nightgown, smoothing out invisible wrinkles. Momo forced herself not to overanalyze the comment or the fact that he had come to look for her.

She wouldn’t hope.

“I was just having a hard time falling asleep. I’m sorry to have woken you.”

His heterochromatic eyes were pale gray and blue as he raised his head and stared at her, his expression masked. “You wouldn’t be up here if you were fine,” he finally said as his eyes locked on hers. “What’s wrong?”

Todoroki’s expression had barely flickered, but something in his tone sounded genuinely concerned. Momo felt her chest tighten. She shifted and grasped her other arm. She wasn’t sure how to respond.

She was simultaneously hopeful of what his concern could mean and disappointed in herself for reading into his every word.

Todoroki was going to become a great hero, the type of hero who would bring peace to the citizens of Japan. And, no matter how much she wanted to, Momo wasn’t foolish enough to think that his concern was anything other than a general courtesy. Surely, he would extend this kindness to any of their classmates.

Wouldn’t he?

“Can I join you?” he asked abruptly, pulling Momo from her thoughts.

Her eyes snapped up. Todoroki didn't wait for her to respond as he moved closer. He stopped on her right side and stared out at the U.A. campus.

There was a long silence.

Momo took a moment to study him from under her lashes. He was striking. All contrast. Fire and ice. Crimson and moonlight. Turquoise and steel. And as much as she tried not to let appearances affect her judgment of people, she couldn’t help but agree with Ashido that Todoroki was the best-looking male of their grade.

What would he think of her if she had an ugly scar across her face like his father? Momo felt her stomach drop at the thought, and she looked away, suddenly embarrassed and ashamed.

It was a silly notion. He had his own scar over his left eye. If there was one person who wouldn’t judge her for a facial wound, it would be him.

Weak and pathetic — that is what he would think of her disgraceful thoughts. Momo's stomach twisted painfully; she didn't know if she could handle his scorn. She hugged herself and shivered.

“What are you thinking about?”

The air around them suddenly warmed.

Todoroki must have used his quirk.

Momo felt a light fluttering in her stomach at the realization. He was always so considerate.

She closed her eyes. “A lot of things.”

“About tomorrow?”

She hesitated then nodded minutely. He didn’t say anything, and she opened her eyes to study a crack in the gray concrete flooring.

“Todoroki-san,” she said softly after a minute. “Do you think we can win?”

From the corner of her eye, she saw him tilt his head back to stare up at the sky, his expression turning pensive. “It'll be difficult,” he said slowly. “But, they've gathered all the top heroes in Japan, so I think we can.”

Momo hummed in agreement.

His lips thinned, and he looked back down. “But, we’ll fight harder," he said, his tone firm. "We have people that we wish to protect, so losing isn’t an option.” He brought his hand up and slowly curled his fingers into a fist. “I think that is what makes us heroes strong — maybe.”

She looked up at him. “Your family?” she asked.

He dropped his hand, and his eyes met hers. “Something like that,” he said, and his stare seemed more pointed than usual.

It felt like there was more to that statement than he was saying, but she didn’t want to pry. She cleared her throat and changed the subject. “You’ll be with Midoriya-san, and Bakugo-san evacuating citizens near the city center tomorrow, no?”

Todoroki hummed, then turned to fully face her. “Yeah, but that’s not what’s really bothering you though, is it?”

Momo flinched.

He really could read her a little too well. She felt her face warm and drew in a deep breath.

“No, it’s not.” She folded her hands in front of herself. Then, before she could reconsider, added. “I’m nervous about tomorrow.”

Todoroki stared at her but didn’t say anything as he waited for her to elaborate.

Earlier, she had desperately wanted to see him, but now that he was there, a small part of her wished for him to leave. She didn’t want him to see this side of herself.

Momo dropped her gaze. Briefly, she contemplated lying to him but quickly disregarded the notion. Todoroki was incredibly perceptive and could be annoyingly stubborn. There was no way that he’d let the conversation go if he thought that she was hiding something, and she had never been a very good liar.

She could feel his heterochromatic eyes on her.

Momo licked her lips and drew in a deep breath. Knowing that he wasn’t going to leave, she suddenly was filled with the overwhelming desire to talk.

“I…I knew that we would have to fight one day, but somehow it never really hit me until tonight that we are only sixteen and are about to be helping out in an operation that is far larger than ourselves.”

He didn’t say anything. Her fingers twitched, and her eyes flickered towards him. Todoroki's hands rested by his sides, so close that if she stretched out her fingers, they’d brush his. She looked away, pushing down the foolish urge to reach for him.

“Todoroki-san, do you ever wonder what it would be like to be a normal high school student? If you weren’t on the hero track.”

Todoroki looked at her for a moment then tilted his head back slightly.

“I don’t know,” he answered after a minute. “It had never been an option, so I guess I never have,” he said slowly looking back at her.

Momo swallowed, twisting her hands together. Her throat felt constricted. “It’s embarrassing, really, but I was thinking about all the mundane and inconsequential moments that we may miss out on because of this path. Tomorrow we are going into battle, but I haven't even gone on a date or had my first kiss. And I wonder what if I never get those moments.”

“Don't get me wrong,” she added hurriedly, clenching a hand over her chest. She felt herself flush. “I'm proud to be a hero, and I'm not having self-doubts about my choice. But I guess I never thought about all the little ways my life would change because of it. I just wonder what if -” Her voice hitched. “What if something happens tomorrow that makes it so I can never have those things? Never go on a date, or go to a school dance. Never get married or have children. It’s so stupid. I know.”

An aching sensation spread across her nose and cheeks. She sniffed and brought her hand up to rub at her eyes with the back of her hand as she struggled not to cry. “I hate having these shallow thoughts when tomorrow’s mission could decide the fate of Japan, but I can’t stop thinking about it. I don’t want to be alone just because I’m trying to be a her-”

“Yaoyorozu.”

Momo jerked at the firmness in his tone. It had been a long time since she had heard him use that voice. Not since Aizawa.

She turned slowly towards Todoroki, and her eyes widened in surprise as he stepped closer. “You’re not alone.” His gaze was intense.

A blush ran across her face and down her neck.

He lifted his hand and wavered for a moment before he pressed his palm against her cheek.

“I’m here,” he said softly, his thumb brushing away the tears she hadn’t realized had slipped down her face. “So, you don’t have to worry.”

His touch was gentle, almost tender as he cupped her cheek, and Momo choked back a soft sob as she closed her eyes. It was exactly how she had dreamed of him holding her.

Every night.

Every day.

In between studying and classes.

She let herself lean into Todoroki’s touch.

He was only comforting her, she reminded herself as her heart stuttered almost painfully in her chest. But surely, he wouldn’t judge her for this, would he? She was allowed this small comfort. Friends would allow for this, wouldn’t they?

After a moment, Momo drew in a deep, steadying breath and looked up.

Todoroki was close. His eyes were darker than she had ever seen them. They shone like molten silver and teal stars as he stared down at her, and Momo’s breath caught in her throat. It felt like her heart had stalled momentarily in her chest as he studied her face.

Then slowly — so slowly she wasn’t sure if her heart could take it — he closed his eyes and dipped his head down, brushing his lips against hers before fully capturing hers.

It was like lightning had struck Momo. She stood frozen under him, eyes wide, unbelieving for a moment before her whole body melted into his touch, and she closed her eyes and kissed him back.

His lips were soft as they moved over hers, and stars danced behind her eyes.

It felt like a burning, gaping ache that she hadn’t been aware of had finally been filled within her chest.

He kissed her a moment longer before pulling back.

His hand dropped from her cheek, and Momo’s eyes fluttered open as she watched him through a hooded gaze draw away. Then, suddenly it was like the magic of the moment had lifted. Her eyes widened as her mind jumped-started back into action as it tried to process what had just happened.

Momo could feel her face burning and she cupped her cheeks.

She felt elated and stunned that he had kissed her. But also uncertain. Was it something he meant or just something needed to be done to help take her mind off of tomorrow?

“Sorry if that wasn’t any good. That's my first kiss too.” Momo looked up. Todoroki had covered his mouth with his left hand. The tips of his ears were red, and the sight calmed her slightly.

Hesitantly, she brought her fingers to her lips. They were still warm from his mouth. “Wh-why?” she forced out.

Todoroki dropped his hand, and his usually expressionless features seemed almost bashful. “You said you were worried about never getting a first kiss. I - I hope it was okay that it was me?”

Momo felt her heart sink. So, he had only kissed her as a friend. He didn’t care for her like she did for him. She dropped her head. “Ye-Yes. It’s fine,” she said softly, turning away.

She inhaled deeply. She didn’t want him to see her cry. He had only been trying to help.

“Yaoyorozu.”

A strong hand closed around her wrist, and she looked up sharply.

Todoroki stared down at her. He seemed to be searching her face for something.

"Do you..." he started, and his eyes flickered slightly. He clenched his jaw and swallowed. "Do you remember what you told me after we defeated Aizawa?” He didn’t wait for her to respond before continuing hurriedly. “You said that I was the type of hero that brings people peace. That I make you feel at ease.”

His lips twitched. “I was really happy when you told me that. I had been struggling with what I wanted to be for so long, your words helped me decide. But—” Todoroki raised his head, and something glinted in his gray and turquoise eyes as they met hers. “It also made me realize that I wanted to be more than just a hero, too.”

Momo’s chest felt tight as she waited for him to continue.

He swallowed and seemed to hesitate before his expression hardened. “You asked earlier if I’d ever dreamed of a life not as a hero, and I said ‘no,’ but that’s not true. I have.”

“Todoroki-san…” Momo whispered; her heart was beating louder and louder in her chest, unsure of the implication of his statement.

He cleared his throat and straightened. “You have a lot on your list, so it may take me some time, but once this is over, I’d like to be the one who makes your dreams come true.” He looked at her, and his expression was intent. “That is, if you're okay with it being me?”

Momo drew in a deep, stuttering breath.

“Todoroki-san…” she forced out. She could barely breathe. It couldn’t be. She must be dreaming.

Something must have shown on her face because his lips tilted up into a small tentative smile that made her heart ache.

He so rarely smiled.

“So, I don’t want you to worry,” he said, releasing her wrist. Slowly, to give her time to draw away, he slid his hands around her waist and pulled her closer.

Momo was breathing quickly. She felt almost faint and didn’t know if her legs could support her anymore. Tentatively, she raised her arms and wrapped them around his back. She leaned her head against his chest. He smelled woodsy, like cedar, and she could feel the thrum of his heart as it beat through her.

Todoroki’s body relaxed. He dipped his head down to rest on hers.

“It’ll be okay. We’ll win,” he whispered into her hair. His tone was deep and unyielding, filled with conviction, and it warmed her.

Momo wrapped her fingers into the cotton of his shirt as the confidence of his voice sank into her. He was so certain, so sure of it, and Momo felt her heart catch in her throat. She swallowed. It was the same confidence that he had used all those months ago when he said he believed in her. It sounded like a promise.

She felt more tears slip over her cheeks as she drew back slightly to look up at him. She smiled. His face was so close to hers that she could feel the heat of his breath on her lips. “Yes, we’ll win,” she whispered back.

His eyes glittered; his hands tightened around her waist. And, as he leaned his forehead against her own, Momo felt the promise touch her soul.

XXXXX

This is dedicated to my hypochondriac, anxiety ridden self who would most definitely jump to the worst possible conclusion, and think I may die horribly or lose a limb or an eye or something if I was going into battle. One of the reasons I like Momo so much is because I feel she'd be the same. She's a thinker, and if she doesn't keep her thoughts in check they can easily spiral. I love the current arc, but shonen manga, in general, never have their characters dwell on the thought of getting hurt or killed. So, I wanted to touch on that topic. And how, when everything feels out of control sometimes you just need someone to ground you. Tell you that everything is going to be okay. To me, that is what Shouto is for Momo. He is her pillar of support, and he comforts her by telling her that no matter what happens he wants to be with her, and provide her hope that there is a life waiting for her after the battle.

Anyway, I was in a little bit of a mood (if you couldn't tell) when this came to me, so I hope it turned out alright and that it was enjoyable enough.

All comments and critiques are welcome. :D And once again thank you to everyone who participated or helped out with the TodoMomo Mini Bang!

#todomomo #todoroki x yaoyorozu #shouto todoroki #Yaoyorozu Momo #My fic #my story #I'm Here: You’re Not Alone

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celstese · 3 years

Text

Torchwood Christmas secret santa 2020

for @laylainalaska

Hi this is your secret santa. Happy holidays Both fics are under the cut and on ao3. I haven't figured out how to embed pictures so the pics just on this post. I dont have access to a scanner right now. (Will update the picture when I do soon)There is a bit of swearing in the first fic but its not that much.

ao3 posts- Ianto and Owen / Gwen and Tosh

It was early in the morning when the messy situation began. Since Lisa was discovered, I hadn’t been back at work. That was a terrible night. It happened so suddenly. I didn't feel happy when I realized what I had overlooked. I noticed we were running out of coffee beans. As soon as I could go, I went to go where I kept the rest of the walk in storage. This was the same floor where she inhabited for several months. It started sometime after I had joined after finding Myfanwy. That night I was exhausted. It was worth it in the end. While I didn't prefer being down there, I had to do something about the problem I had found. As I walked further towards the supply cupboard, the more uneasy I felt, almost like I knew something would go wrong. My fears were not out of the blue, but objectively I knew no one else could have done the same thing as I had. When I got there, the storage door was wide open and I could hear Owen Harper's loud voice. I sighed then spoke up loudly, enough that he could hear me from wherever he was inside. “Are you close to the coffee? We’re almost out upstairs.”. I didn’t wait long. It seemed he was close to where I was. Odd, the room seemed to be much bigger on the inside. That might have just my mind playing tricks on me. Though I wouldn't have been surprised if it was. “Can you repeat that? I don't know why not having galoshes would be a problem. ” Owen sounded confused. “No where almost out of coffee. Is there any in there still?” I replied louder than I had done previously. “I passed it on my way to the office supplies. I think that's all the coffee we have right now” Owens voice was apologetic. I could tell he meant it. It was then and there, for the first time in ages, that I felt scared. Not only for me but everyone on the team. As much as I hated to admit it to myself, I had become dependent on coffee. My team was no different. That didn't mean any would do. Drastic times call for drastic measures. After a short conversion, we decided to go upstairs and find Jack. Getting the bags of coffee to the car would require more than one person. It was a slow day so Owen could come and help for once. We walked together to the large elevator at the end of the hall and, after finding that it wasn't working, we sighed and took the stairs. I guess it was about time for a new elevator anyway. Nothing really lasts forever. When I got out of the stairwell, I was met by a relieved Jack who was happy to see me. “Ianto about the coffee…” “We have none in storage right now so the stuff upstairs is all we have at the moment. Me and Owen were going to go get more right now.” “I'd be happy to help if you asked, but that's fine.” I could tell from Jack's tone of voice that he would like to spend that time with me, but we'd never get anything done if he came with. He is a real trouble magnet on top of that. We walked inside the garage with the keys already in Owen's hands. I got in the driver's side on the right side while he got in the passenger side. The quickest route I knew could be confusing. If I was on the passenger side giving directions wouldn't help at all. It was hard to find a place and the directions were the oddest I have ever followed. As they drove out it was still raining as it had been when they entered in the morning. By the time they had taken a left turn towards a block of warehouses, the rain had vanished, to Owen’s surprise. He thought the weather man said something about the rain lasting until the next day. He shook his head and told himself he must have misremembered what week that was for. The car made a sudden stop parking at the side of the road. Ianto spoke saying “I know it might look weird, but this is really where I get all of the coffee. It's like the opposite of a Slitheen. It's the building on your side. Let's go.” While Ianto stepped out of the car ,Owen took a deep breath and opened the door quickly then closed it just as fast. His face was drawn to the massive eyesore in front of his face. The building that once held a clothing warehouse full of books was now filled with rows and rows of coffee. Owen didn't know what to think. He turned his head and said to Ianto “ You go to a building that's bright orange called Groovy Moods to get coffee that we drink everyday. Something about that sentence just sounds wrong.” “It's better than it sounds. They used to have a different name, but they were inherited by the old owner's hippy son. I miss the old building, but the stuff is still the same. My mouth would know the difference.” Owen Harper then said in response “So it's a rebranding. Lets just go in and get this all over and done with. I heard it was supposed to rain today.” The inside was clean as a whistle and the colors were more muted, though, the wall art wasn't. Owen couldn’t say he was surprised at the abstract art on the wall above displayed bags of various kinds of coffee. He followed Ianto to a window at the back of the store and found something unexpected, visible behind the glass. “Well shit.” I couldn't agree with Owen more. Some kind of face hugger was on the workers face and they were trying to tear it off. That was a poor bloke. “Did we bring anything in the car or did you grab something? I don’t think a gun will help us with that.” Owen was panicking and so was I. “ I always have medical supplies on me, and I also have some food. You?” I leafed through my pockets and groaned. “I grabbed the wrong jacket. This spray might make it worse.” “Why?” “It's novocaine in a can. I don't know what it will do to it. It could do nothing.” “It's worth a shot. At least the guy won't feel anything if something goes wrong.” Owen, with a medical tool, opened the door and I sprayed the face hugger. The weirdest thing happened. “I think I made it horny”. I was embarrassed. Instead of sucking the man's face, it was now humping my foot. Owen laughed while I sighed. “We have a carrying cage in the car right? Get it. I think we might have to retcon this guy when it's taken care of.”

Fic 2 It was a Friday when I finally had some time to myself. I had some great plans including going to this nice curry place and eating what I couldn't while I was at home since Rhys was allergic. My day didn't go as planned after I managed to get that one thing out of the way. As I was walking to my car, out of nowhere I got pulled into an alleyway. I almost kicked them, knocking them out before I saw who it was. It was Toshiko, but she was a mess. Concertedly, I watched as she panted.

“What happened?" I said plainly as she stood wobbling in front of me.

Her eyes wide, she spoke a few words before fainting onto me “Aliens smuggling cocaine into space.”

I had just enough time to catch my weight and Tosh by sheer will alone. A few seconds passed before I could catch my bearings.

My mouth gaped as I was shook by what she had just said. I guess I'm going to hold off on those plans for another day. This, I could feel, wouldn't be easy. She looked at Tosh's wrist and sighed. Maybe she would have a day out. Whatever had happened hadn't happened yet. On Toshiko's right wrist was a vortex manipulator. For all Gwen knew Tosh was going to then say and time if that one wasn't Jacks. It wasn't like he was unique in the cosmos. It was mass produced. From what she had gathered after Jack came back after a year in tandem with the radiation scare they were similar to company cars. While not totally unique, there are a limited amount.

Though for all I know I am already involved in what happened and will have to sit it out to keep out of sight. That might possibly be some good news. I haven't signed up for overtime, but I was due for a break as well. Whatever the case I had to get Tosh to wake up somehow. For all I knew it would come today and we needed to start walking now. So, out of my pocket I grabbed what I always kept on me and what I knew she couldn't stand.

“Peppermint, really Gwen?”

It had worked after all, to my delight.

“We are in an alleyway and I had it on me. Now, do we have to hide somewhere or was I involved in what got you here?”

“I have to stay out of sight, but we need to call Jack so I only knew one thing you did out of the next three days.”

“Well that's short, but what are you getting at?”

“Well what we need to do exactly is this.”

Tosh's game plan was not something I would do if I didn't have to. There were parts she had to repeat since to be perfectly honest was plain odd. I guess I could blame the rift for this.

So, here I was now, with Tosh in a bar in the middle of the day at the start of winter. There was barely anyone inside which was definitely not a good sign. We went to the restroom and waited for a few minutes. Then I heard that noise that had to be what Tosh had told me about earlier. So I kicked down the restroom door and chucked a can of mayo at a sabretooth tiger. While it layed there unconscious, Jack stared at me, dumbfounded for the first time since I had met him.

“Thanks Gwen but how did you time that so well? It's your day off you didn't mention going to a bar” He was scratching his head staring at the jar of mayo on the ground.

“It's kind of you from a few days laters fault. Tosh said she came back to perverse the timeline to ensure I did what I did. You gave Tosh your vortex manipulator 3 days away. I guess i'm going to have more time off than planned. This was the only thing you saw me doing with everyone else while the alien cocaine smugglers were dealt with. I'm having trouble saying their name. It's a mouthful.”

“Can you tell me something about them so I know what i'm dealing with?” Jack responded quickly.

“ She did say that one of the people who took them back to their homeworld used to be mayor Blaine. Tosh said she was cute.”

He started laughing for a second then the image of what I was describing finally got past his processing for how ridiculous it all sounded.

“Even for torchwood this sounds..”

“Insane I know. I'm the one who was dragged into an alley by a chip shop's trash cans by a future Tosh and had to wake her up. She seems fine, even after passing out. I don't think she got a concussion, but it's even more of a reason for me to stay out of this one. I wouldn't want to be home alone if that happened to me.“

“You do that Gwen, you do that.”

Tosh walked up right next to me and said, “We have five minutes until my past self walks by. We need to head out. Nice seeing you Jack.”

We finished saying our goodbyes and Tosh headed out first, initially going left while in the distance I heard a familiar voice talking to him. While I knew I could relax, I wouldn't be able to do everything I could.

“I haven asked yet, but are you okay with sleeping on my couch?”

“Gwen, I’ve slept in worse places before, it's fine.”

Tosh opened up the fridge while I was cleaning dishes. “Gwen, when's the last time you ate something that wasn't takeout? There's only milk in here and I think it's gone off.”

“Well, I guess we'll have to go get food. Rhys usually does it, but he’s at the funeral I was talking about before all of this. You didn't go to a grocery store did you?”

“No, so we can go anywhere.”

I didn't feel the need to change so we went out in both of our pajamas. The sight of her in my pajamas brought a smile to my face.

I hadn't gone here this time of night or this particular place, but Tosh seemed pretty familiar with it. There was some stuff I hadn't seen in person before, but it was pretty clean. I grabbed something called a dragon fruit and put it into the cart as well as some pasta and additional stuff to put on it. Can't forget the wine either. This kind of opportunity doesn’t happen as often for me anymore.

I don't know how, but we ended up at a rec center painting. It was a small place nearby with a blue façade. It felt nice actually, to my surprise. It's not the best representation of a pear, but at least I tried.

I looked at my watch and realized how much time had passed.

“This is the last day we have to stay out of this.” I didn't know how I felt about that just yet.

Tosh pulled down the newspaper and sat in silence for a bit. Then she simply said . “I'll miss this break, but it had to end sometime. It will be all okay.”

“I hope so.” I thought to myself. The last few days had been calm but I don't think I can relax much longer anyways.

#celstese #laylainalaska #torchwood 2020 holiday gift exchange #swearing #Gwen Cooper #toshiko sato #Owen Harper #ianto jones #jack harkness #fanfiction #torchwood #torchwood fanart

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thestorytellerofkpop · 5 years

Text

Title: Like I Can

Rating: M

Genre: Yandere/horror, smut

Pairings: Taehyung x Reader, Jimin x Reader

Word Count: 10.1k

Warnings: Yandere themes (obsession, stalking, non-consensual voyeurism, threatening, light sexual harassment), Smut (oral (female receiving), derogatory names, unprotected sex, dirty talk, cum kink), college au, bashing economics.

Summary: Through a chance encounter of circumstance, Taehyung came into your life like a mantra. His mind was entranced with you, wanting to give you nothing more than his mind, his heart and soul. And even though another lover has hold of your hand, Taehyung was going to show you, that your other lover could never love you like he can.

A/N: This fic was written as a part of @bang-tan-bitches Monster Mash Writing Challenge! And though Halloween may be over, every time is the right time for a gold ol’ fashioned yandere smut fic!

It was another long and boring day. You tapped your pen repeatedly to a rhythm in your head that no one else could hear as you leaned your cheek to rest against your open palm. Your eyes shifted to look at the clock across the room. Only a few more minutes before you could escape the hell of a class that was Economics. You tapped your foot impatiently, praying for the minutes to move just a little faster. You didn’t have anywhere important to be after class, but you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up and bed, catch up on your YouTube binge of the new Shane Dawson series and just relax.

Across the room, a pair of eyes were trained on your fingers. How they curved and fiddled with the cheap plastic of the pen, how they molded into the soft flesh of your cheek and twirled around a strand of loose hair framing your face. Oh, how to be that close to your body? How soft would that supple skin feel beneath rough hands? With fingers slowly skimming down your frame as soft noises left your lips in a mantra, pleading, for something rougher, harder-

The second the professor dismissed the class you sprang up from your seat, hastily shoving your laptop back into your bag before making a beeline for the door. You were so close to the exit, so close to walking through the threshold with the rest of your rushing peers. In your haste to leave though, you had bumped into a rather firm surface, causing you to fall flat on your behind.

“Ow…” you mumbled, rubbing your sore shoulder and noting the pain from your tailbone.

“I-I’m so sorry.”

Suddenly a rich, bright pair of eyes were staring into your own, flickering over your body in a quick survey. You smiled gratefully, taking the outstretched hand the man had offered to you as you rose gracefully to your feet. You eyed the flexing muscles in his arm as he pulled you up and you unconsciously licked your lips.

“It’s okay…uh, Taehyung, right?” you asked as you picked up your fallen bag from the floor.

“Y-Yeah! We were in Western Civ together last semester.” a blush crept up Taehyung’s cheeks while his fingers played with a fray in his jeans. “A-Are you sure you’re alright Y/N?”

You raised your brow at him, cocking your hip to the side as you fished your earbuds out of your pockets.

“You remember my name?” Taehyung nodded eagerly as he watched you plug the jack into your phone. “Usually no one remembers who I am.” you hummed, fiddling with the music app on your phone.

“How could I forget you Y/N.”

It was a statement, not a question. You stared at Taehyung for a second too long, and you were sure he could tell that the chuckle you let out in the next second was too forced. Too loud in your ears. But he only smiled at you with his lips parted in a grin.

“Alright, well, I guess I’ll, umm, see you next class.” you gave Taehyung a little wave, putting your earbuds in your ears and turning the volume up as loud as you could, leaving the room and the tall man behind.

Taehyung sighed softly, shaking his hips in a little dance as he picked up his dropped book from the ground. As he bent down, a clear shine stared back up at him. He grabbed his book and the pen that had dropped next to it. Your pen. The same pen that you had been fidgeting with just moments ago. Filled with dark navy ink with teeth marks in the plastic end, Taehyung hummed softly and slipped it into his back pocket.

He’d have to return it to you later.

~*~

The following day came and went, and you found yourself sitting back in the throes of the evening Economics class. Your professor droned on and on about the importance of market price-ups and consumer intelligence but you couldn’t care less about the words coming out of his mouth.

“Damn,” you muttered under your breath as your hand rummaged through the small pocket of your backpack. Just wonderful. You had managed to lose your favorite and only pen. You sighed, leaning back in your chair just to accept the fact that it was just now taken into the void of lost things. You tapped at your computer in regret as you now were forced to take notes in a Word Doc; you weren’t the fastest of typers and you knew you were bound to miss some of the information. Stupid professor for not posting his lessons online. You’d have to borrow the extra notes from someone later, you mused.

In the same spot from across the room, steady eyes followed the slow pace of your fingers moving across the keys of your laptop. It was almost as if he could hear the soft taps of frustration from such a distance and the eyes couldn’t help but crinkle up in amusement. But they soon widened when they noticed the bite to your lower lip, how the soft pink flesh disappeared and returned with a dark and heady blush. He wanted to make that blush appear all over your body. From your lips, slick with love and the promises of what’s to come. From your cheeks, flushed with embarrassment from begging for more and more of him and only him. From places even lower, bruised and marked with the imprints of his hands, his teeth, over supple and smooth skin as he claims you as his. How his ears would tingle as your broken whimpers leave those cherry-kissed lips, calling out his name, asking to be used, begging for more of his touch, pleading for him to just go a little lower and feel how needy I am for you-

You almost cried in relief when the professor wrapped up his lecture, quickly reminding you about the term paper that would be due in a few weeks before waving a dismissing hand in the air. You hummed a tune to yourself as you brought your bag into your lap, double and triple checking that your pen was in fact not there before huffing in defeat. You pulled out your phone as you stood from the desk, trying to remember the brand of the pen so you could order some more of them online when a large hand slowly skimmed the wood of your desk, dropping the pen you had lost in its wake. You managed to catch Taehyung’s wink before he left over the threshold of the classroom, and you hastily packed up your things in order to catch up to him.

“Hey, Taehyung!”

He turned at the top of the stairs, his smile large and radiant when he knew it was you calling out for him. He waited for you to catch up with him, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the tiny stride you had. It was completely and utterly adorable.

“Hey you.” Taehyung chuckled at your grateful smile as you brandished the pen around like a sword. He knew you were thanking him for returning it, but his thoughts barely processed the words the left your lips. He was staring into your eyes instead, at the swirling colors and emotions they held.

“Would you mind if I walked you home?” he asked suddenly, cutting off your rambling about how smoothly the pen’s ink wrote.

“Um, sure! Yeah that’d be nice.” you nodded, staring the descent down the stairs with Taehyung at your heels. “It’s been getting darker sooner, and the house I’m at is a little ways away.”

“You live in a house?” Taehyung cocked his head to the side as he held the door open for you, his lips pulling up when you thanked him.

“Mmhmm! Well, me and my roommates rent it out from this lovely little old couple. They’re retired down in the warmer parts of the country and they rent the rooms out to the college students for a little extra cash. It’s nice having private bathrooms and a bathtub, you wouldn't believe.” you chuckled as you guided Taehyung off the main college road and towards the little suburbs that surrounded the campus.

“It sounds lovely.” Taehyung hummed as he observed the quaint little houses you both passed by. Some lawns overgrown; others manicured with wilting flowers from the changing seasons. They were bright and welcoming, with yellowing streetlights and weeping willow trees.

“Loki!”

Your outburst startled Taehyung, and he watched with wide eyes as you ran up to a small blue house, trampling through the front yard to grab a black cat from an open windowsill.

“Is that your cat?” Taehyung chuckled as you pressed soft kisses onto the cat’s head.

“He may as well be,” you chuckled as Taehyung stroked the cat’s back. “He’s my roommate’s. But he loves hanging out on my windowsill because the sunlight always hits it just right. But I usually crack my window to air out my bedroom and I’m always afraid this sweet man is going to run away.”

Taehyung hummed thoughtfully at your words, nodding his head while your voice filled his mind.

“Well, thank you again for walking me home. I really appreciate it.” you smiled and you could’ve sworn Taehyung’s eyes grew three shades brighter.

“Of course, any time Y/N. You and Loki enjoy your evening.” Taehyung sent you a wink and turned on his heels, walking back down the sidewalk from which you came.

“Huh,” you muttered as your fingers scratched behind Loki’s ears. “What do you think Loki?” you turned to look into the cat’s green eyes and he blinked back at your slowly.

“Exactly as I thought,” you nodded as you walked into the house. “A little weird...but oddly charming.”

Later that night you entered your room with a sigh, letting your back fall against your bedroom door as you rubbed your eyes. You had to put Jisoo and Jennie to bed, those two drunkards, but you loved and cared for them too much to just leave them out in the cold living room drunk off their rockers at three in the morning. So, you put them both to bed, placed cups of water and Tylenol by their beds for the morning to come and hurried off to your room before they could catch you. Not that you think they could get out of bed once they hit the soft comforter as sleep lulled them away.

You heaved yourself off the door and moved to the little speaker that sat on your desk, pulling your phone out of your back pocket while putting on some soft music. You clicked on the lamp, basking the room in a soft glow as you swayed along to the music, throwing your phone on your bed in a flourish as part of your dance. It’s late, you thought, no one will see me this late in the night. You began to sing along softly to the music when you moved to crack open the large window in your room, letting the crisp fall air inside as your open curtains swayed with the breeze.

Oh, what a beautiful voice you have.

You swayed your hips from side to side as you sauntered over to your dresser, pulling it open with a little extra shake of your hips in time with the beat from the song. Your back was to the window as you shimmied out of your jeans, your voice muffling against your shirt as you pulled that over your head too. Your bare back was exposed, making you shiver from the cool wind hitting your skin. You quickly pulled off your panties and replaced them just as fast with a pair as dark as twilight.

That color looks so delectable against your skin, oh how would you react to me pulling them down your thighs with my teeth? So slow with my tongue just barely brushing over your skin, leaving you bare and open to my wandering eyes.

You opened another drawer and hummed in thought as your fingers roamed over the soft fabrics nestled within. You made your decision and plucked the silk shirt from the confines of your dresser, letting the white fabric envelop your arms in cool kisses against your skin as it fell down over the curve of your back, the hem just barely covering the twilight between your legs. You danced around your room and turned the music down just a little lower before landing on your bed with a soft plop. You kicked your legs up in the air, watching them keep in time to the rhythm of the music with soft giggles falling past your lips. You picked up your phone and the screen illuminated your face as you continued to kick along to the song, your thumb brushing over the LED screen gently.

Oh, how you tease me in the best of ways, angel. Moving your hips and those legs in such a tantalizing way, like you want me to kneel in front of your alter and just beg for your touch, your voice, your taste. Then to tease me with silk kissing your skin so beautifully, covering the parts of you that I want to devour the most. If only I could touch you, make you mine beneath my lips and fingertips. I’d have you begging for me, pleading please don’t stop, I need you, I want you so so bad, please unravel me with everything you have to give. Oh, sweet angel, I will make you mine.

Your head snapped towards the window, gazing out into the still night. You stood slowly, approaching the window with soft steps. You poked your head out, looking left, looking right, before humming in confusion. You closed the window, locking it and drawing your curtains as you made your way back to bed. A feeling of uneasiness settled in the pit of your stomach, a shiver running down your spine. No, you were just imagining things.

If only you had looked straight down in the rose bushes below. You would’ve had a sight to behold hiding behind soft petals. Messy brown strands of hair sticking up in places from where a hand ran through the silky strands. Sweet sweat running down a sharp, curved jawline, tasting like rosewater cologne and a mixture of adrenaline and regret. Full, parted lips, whispering dirty thoughts to the moon as they grew red from exertion and the bites to savor the feeling of long, rough fingers wrapped around a desperate hardness.

“Fuck…”

He tucked himself back into his jeans as he rose on shaky knees, hoping to peer through your window one more time, to send you the sweetest goodnight kiss, but whined in disappointment when he found his view obstructed by unwanted curtains. The hours had been worth it, just to see you lose yourself in your own world, to watch you be so in tune with your body and thoughts. He knew he was obsessed, but how could it be so bad when it made him feel so fucking good?

He stood on his feet and scurried off into the darkness of the night, waiting for the next time you two would meet and see each other again.

~*~

Taehyung would like to think you and him have become acquaintances. You would always give him a wave when you walked into class, and he’d wave back from his perch in the raised back of the classroom. He asked you to join him in the back one day, the seats to his left and right always conveniently available, but you declined, telling him you couldn’t see that far away and needed to sit towards the front. He recommended maybe seeing an eye doctor, but you just laughed and told him you couldn’t afford that. His heart broke when you told him that. You deserved the best things in the world, and nothing less, including optical care.

On Monday you didn’t come to class.

On Wednesday you still were nowhere to be found.

Once Friday rolled around and you still weren’t coming to class, Taehyung was out of his mind with worry. Throughout the entire class Taehyung couldn’t focus. All his thoughts were on you, you, you. Where were you? Were you okay, hurt, did you need help? Why didn’t he think to get your number before you had up and vanished? His leg wouldn’t stop shaking and his fingers tapped impatiently on the desk. He was going to see you, he needed to see you. He needed to make sure you were okay.

Once the class was over, Taehyung jumped to his feet and hurried to the door, determination set in his features.

“Taehyung, can you come back for a minute?”

Taehyung growled in annoyance before turning back into the room, plastering a fake smile onto his face as he approached the professor’s desk.

“Yes sir?”

“Miss L/S emailed me last night-”

“She did?! Is she okay?” Taehyung suddenly was very interested in what the senile old man had to say, his eyes widening with worry.

“She’s fine Mr. Kim, just very sick at the moment.” the professor eyed his student for a second before shaking his head.

“Anyways, she asked me if I could give you this week’s handouts to give to her. She said you two were friends and would like to get started on the make-up work over the weekend.”

“Friends…?” Taehyung’s lips pulled up into a dreamy smile as the professor dumped the week’s workload into his waiting arms. “I’ll make sure she gets them sir.”

“Very good. Enjoy your weekend Mr. Kim.” the professor watched as Taehyung left the room, arguably in a better mood than he has seen his student in, in a long while.

Taehyung walked as fast as he could down the sidewalk towards your little home. God, he hoped you were taking care of yourself. Or your roommates were helping you out. But it would be pointless anyways, he knew no one could take care of you like he could.

He approached the little blue house, slightly out of breath and hair askew as he knocked on the door. When he heard the door rattle, he managed to pull a smile up his cheeks, hoping to make a good first impression on your roommates, but his smile slowly slid down his face and formed into a scowl once his eyes met who was standing in the threshold.

“Oh! Um, hello.” the man on the other side of the door smiled, his pretty pink lips matching the color of his soft, fluffy hair. “Can I help you?”

“Where’s Y/N?”

The other man frowned at the tone in Taehyung’s voice, and Taehyung couldn’t help but chuckle when the other man stood just a little taller, puffing his chest out.

“Who’s asking?” he raised his brow at Taehyung.

“Jimin,”

A soft croak sounded from further in the house and Taehyung’s heart broke at the sight. You approached the two men slowly, being dragged down by the large purple blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Your eyes were hollow and empty, and your nose as red as can be, but you still mustered up a smile when you saw Taehyung, and that alone made his heart soar in his chest.

“Y/N, you should be in bed.” Jimin lightly scolded you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Screw that, you were taking too long.” you mumbled and Taehyung snorted at your comment.

“I have the missing work from this past week.” Taehyung held out the papers lamely, and Jimin’s face lit up in recognition as you took the stack.

“Oh! So, you’re Taehyung then?” Jimin held out his hand. Taehyung stared at him for a few seconds before begrudgingly taking the peace offer, not missing the way Jimin’s hand squeezed just a little too hard. Not that Taehyung wasn’t doing the same.

“In the flesh.”

“Jiminie, could you please go put these on my desk for me?” you looked up at Jimin with wide eyes, batting your lashes up at him. “Please?”

“Sure, anything for you babe.” Jimin smiled down at you, giving your head a little scratch. “Nice to meet you Taehyung.”

“Mm, likewise.” Taehyung said as Jimin left the entryway.

“Thank you, Taehyung.” you sniffled, rubbing your nose with your fist balled up in the blanket. Taehyung cooed softly, a cute pout pulling down his lips.

“Are you doing okay Y/N? Really?” you sighed at the seriousness in his voice, nodding your head slowly.

“I’m doing better than before; this isn’t even the worst part of it. I should be back in class on Monday though. Hopefully.” you managed a smile. “Thankfully I’ve had Jimin to help nurse me back to health.”

“Are you and him…?” Taehyung let his thoughts trail off, looking at you expectantly.

“Together?” you finished with a cough. “Mmhmm, for a while now.”

You were thrusted into another coughing fit, and didn’t see the malice in Taehyung’s eyes once he heard your confirmation.

“Feel better soon Y/N.”

You looked up to see Taehyung running away from your house, you watched him for a second before shaking your head, turning back inside.

“What a strange dude…”

~*~

Taehyung cursed as he lay in bed that night, scrolling through all your social media: Facebook, Twitter, Instagram. None of them mentioned nor showed Jimin even once. He shook his head and threw his phone down onto the comforter in frustration.

“Jimin,” Taehyung growled, punching the mattress. He stood, moving to the small desk in the corner of the room as he thought. He glanced at the wall in front of him, freshly painted and dried into a beautiful dark navy blue. The same color of the panties you put on a few nights ago. Your favorite color. He smiled when his eyes met your face, again, and again, all pinned up on the blue wall in front of him. Most pictures were from your social media, but some he took himself from his little hiding spot in the rose bushes, from the back of the classroom when no one else was paying attention. He opened the journal that rested on the desk, glancing through the written fantasies, the moonlit thoughts from the dirtiest part of his mind on what he wanted to do to you, what he desired, what he needed to have.

As he flipped, he came upon a page he had written with the pen you oh so clumsily dropped. Your name. Repeated over and over again in loops and hearts and every which way between. Taehyung thumbed at the indentations in the paper, remembering how hard he had pressed, how hard he had held himself while the thoughts of you overfilled and controlled his mind, bringing him the greatest pleasure that was dried onto the paper as he came with your name on his lips.

Taehyung chuckled.

Jimin. He was merely an obstacle in Taehyung’s plan to make you become his. Jimin couldn’t even compare to what Taehyung could do and give you. Would Jimin study every part of you like Taehyung had? He knew everything. From your favorite color and food, right down to the name you had given your pet rock in the 3rd grade (It was Thor, oh how he loved your nerdy side). Would Jimin be willing to retrieve the stars for you? Or maybe the moon if you had wanted it. He would even go as far as to retrieve the Heart of the Sea for you, despite his fear of the deep ocean. If you wanted it, Taehyung would do it. He would do anything and everything for you, and your love. Would Jimin sacrifice himself for you? Would Jimin kill for you? Because Taehyung knew he would. He would tarnish his hands crimson, stain his clothes with the blood of those who tried to keep you from him, of those who hurt you, who doubted his hard-raging love for you.

Taehyung knew you didn’t need a boy. No. Jimin was a boy. You needed a man. A man like Taehyung. A man who was willing to serve your every beck and call, every want and desire. You needed to be worshiped and loved.

And Taehyung was going to make that happen. He was going to show you what true love really was.

Once he got rid of the pesky problem known as Park Jimin.

Taehyung was walking back to his apartment from his Thursday class, Hozier blaring through his earbuds as he observed the campus, catching your beauty in almost everything. From the way the leaves were starting to change their colors, how rainbows shined in the rain puddles from the shower earlier in the morning, to the last few butterflies migrating south for the chill to come, everything was just beauty incarnate for you. And right on the outskirts of campus, next to the science department, did Taehyung see him.

Jimin, leaning against the hood of a silver Volvo, idly scrolling through his phone. Was that perhaps why you liked Jimin so much? Because he had a car? Not that you needed it in a college town anyways, fucking showoff.

“Taehyung!”

The devil was really trying his patience today.

Taehyung listened to Jimin’s call, pulling the earbuds out of his ears as he approached the shorter man.

“Let me be blunt,” Taehyung started before Jimin could even muster a hello, his mouth grimaced into a sneer. “I don’t like you. And I really don’t want to be seen with the likes of you in public, so what do you want?”

Jimin just smirked, his eyes growing dark as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I just want to know what your problem is, dude.” Jimin spat. Taehyung scoffed.

“I should be asking you the same thing. How could someone like Y/N be associated with someone like you?”

Jimin chuckled, moving into Taehyung’s personal space as he looked him up and down.

“You have a lot of nerve saying something like that to me.”

“I’m not afraid of you Park Jimin.”

“Oh no, I know that perfectly well,” Jimin smirked. “But I know you are scared of losing something else. Or should I say someone else?”

Taehyung’s face fell and Jimin chuckled triumphantly.

“I knew it. You’re jealous of me because Y/N is with me and not you. But guess what weirdo.” Jimin shoved Taehyung’s chest, causing him to stumble back. “Y/N is mine. Not yours. She may not see that creepy obsessive aura shit you have going for you, but I do. And one word from me can keep her so far away from you the only thing you’ll be seeing of her is her name on a restraining order.”

“You don’t deserve Y/N. You stole her away from me, and I promise you I will be getting her back.”

Jimin just laughed, so hard that tears came out of his eyes.

“Are you delusional up there? We’ve been together for months, and you just came into her life, what? A few weeks ago? Get out of whatever fantasy you have in your head; you’ve never had her and you never will.”

The two men were now face to face, scowls on their lips and eyes shining with fury.

“Y/N will soon realize that she needs me, not you, in her life.” Before he knew it, Taehyung was laying on the ground, winded and out of breath.

“Don’t make me hurt you anymore Taehyung. I’m only going to tell you this once. Stay away from Y/N. She’s mine. And she’ll never belong to you.” Jimin growled as Taehyung stood on his feet.

“She’ll see. Y/N will figure it out on her own that she wants me. She loves me.” Taehyung mumbled.

“Oh, you think so?” Jimin chuckled. “We’ll see about that. And you know what, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. I won’t tell Y/N about any of this, just to humor you. Now get out of my sight.”

Taehyung couldn’t be happier to listen to what Jimin had to say. He left the campus faster than he ever had before.

Oh, he was going to kill Park Jimin. He was going to prove him wrong.

~*~

Taehyung was the first into Economics like always. He always wanted to get there first, so he could wave and smile at you from his spot in the class. When you walked in today though, his heart did little flips in his chest. You were wearing glasses, a soft smiling pulling up your lips when you returned Taehyung’s wave. You paused for a moment, your nose scrunching up in thought before you started to climb up towards him, and oh no, no Taehyung swore his heart was going to explode once you were right next to him. You cocked your hip out, a playful glint in your eyes as you tapped on the desk to his right.

“Is this seat taken?” you giggled as Taehyung shook his head no, plopping yourself into the chair next to him.

“You look a lot better.” Taehyung hummed as he watched you take out your laptop. You chuckled, rolling your eyes at him.

“Thanks, girls love hearing that.”

“N-No! That’s not what I meant! You always look amazing, but you were sick and looked miserable and I just, ah…” Taehyung could feel his cheeks heating up, this wasn’t how he wanted this conversation to go. When he heard your laughter, Taehyung peered over at you through his bangs, a sheepish smile on his lips.

“You’re cute Tae.”

“Cute?” Taehyung’s heart thumped a little faster.

“Mmhmm,” you nodded as you dug through your backpack for paper and your trusty pen. “I am feeling a lot better though, thank you. It’s just fun to tease you.”

Taehyung’s heart skipped a beat when you winked at him, and he could feel himself melt into the chair at the thought of you teasing him a little more. In both the light and the dark.

“I heeded your advice.” you continued as you pulled off your glasses to wipe the smudges off of them. “An early Christmas present from my mother. They’ll have to do for now until I can get contacts.”

“I personally think you look beautiful.” Taehyung murmured. It took him a second to process his words before he looked over at your shocked expression. “With the glasses I mean, they just enhance your eyes.”

“Oh,” you chuckled, looking down to fiddle with the keys on your laptop. “Well, thank you.”

You were both thrusted into silence after that, as other students came walking in and when the professor started the class. Sitting next to you was both a blessing and a curse. For one, Taehyung got to brush knees with you all class and got to notice all the little details he could never see before. Like how when you were bored, you’d play with your fingers, or how you crossed your ankles and knees every few minutes, almost as if you couldn’t find any comfortable position to rest in. He got to smell the heady and perfect scent of your perfume; lilies, violets, clementines and something a little sweeter that Taehyung could only describe as you. And in the stolen glances he took, he was fixated on your lips. In the way you nibbled on them when you were concentrating, how you pouted in confusion, and how you always seemed to be wetting them with the tip of your tongue, gliding along the smooth, pink skin almost teasingly slow, like you were purposely riling Taehyung up for him to take you in the way you deserved. He almost couldn’t take all the teasing.

“Don’t forget to check the partner list for the group projects, they’ll be sitting here on my desk.” the professor shut his briefcase with a resounding click, and immediately the class stood, ready to get home after the long night class.

Huh, class wasn’t over that soon, was it?

“Do you wanna go check the list?” you asked as you stood, packing your things up before slinging the bag over your shoulder. Taehyung immediately stood, shoving his things away as he followed you down to the teacher’s desk, a smile spreading across his cheeks.

“Looks like the angels has destined for us to be together.” Taehyung chuckled.

“Or maybe the professor just paired us together due to the sick week fiasco and he knows you'll be able to catch me up.” you stuck your tongue out at Taehyung, and he wanted nothing more but to taste your tongue against his own.

“Here, gimme your phone,” you held your hand out expectantly towards Taehyung.

“W-Why?”

“So, I can give you my number for the project, silly.” you shook your head, making grabby motions with your fingers.

“I, um, my phone’s dead! Yeah, that’s it, so let me just put my number in yours.” Taehyung chuckled and you eyed him wearily.

“Fine,” you relented, handing over your phone after unlocking it. “If you didn’t want me to see the boobs as your lock screen you could’ve just said so.” you teased. Taehyung shook his head, hiding his smile through the bite in his lip. If only you knew that his home and lock screens were pictures of you, one taken from class, another from a beach photo shoot you posted on Instagram last summer.

“Did you want to maybe start it tonight? At least the initial planning if you’re free?” Taehyung asked, hopping on any excuse just to be with you as he gave you back your phone.

“I can’t tonight. It’s ‘date night’.” you rolled your eyes as you and Taehyung walked out of the classroom. “Jimin and I try to meet at least once a week to hang out, since he’s busy doing all his pre-med shit we rarely get to see each other. Monday just happens to be the night where we’re both free.”

“Oh? Is that so?” he hummed in thought.

“Yeah, so unfortunately I have to head back. But I’ll text you later, yeah?” you smiled at Taehyung and he couldn’t help but return the gesture.

“Sure, I’ll see you soon Y/N.” he waved as you left the building, a smirk taking over his once innocent smile.

~*~

Your curtains swayed with the breeze from your open window that night, reaching out to your form laying against the bed. Tonight, you were accompanied by another, the both of you cuddled under a blanket as you indulged yourselves with reruns of The Bachelorette on your little laptop. You knew Jimin only put up with your silly reality television to make you happy, which is why you were cuddled into him so closely and intimately, with your head on his chest as your hand idly traced shapes into his abdomen. You knew Jimin just wanted to be close to you, to escape the stress of school even for just a night. You leaned further into his touch, where his hand was petting through your hair gently, savoring the contact.

“She’s an idiot.” you mumbled into Jimin’s skin. Jimin just chuckled at your comment, looking down at you with shining eyes.

“And why do you say that?”

“It’s obvious that she loves him, and that he loves her back” you hummed and shook your head while you watched the Bachelorette dismiss the losers for that episode. “But she’s getting rid of him because he’s not as good looking or as rich as the other men are. Stupid.”

Jimin cupped your cheek and nudged you to look up at him. You giggled when Jimin nudged his nose against yours, carefully shutting and placing the laptop on the bedside table with his free hand.

“I agree. A stupid reason to eliminate someone from an obviously scripted TV show.” you rolled your eyes at Jimin’s sass, smiling nonetheless when he placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

“If we were in that position I just wouldn’t leave, I’d stay and fight for you, my love.” Jimin explained with a flourish, pulling you up and onto his lap.

“My hero,” you teased, cupping Jimin’s cheek in turn, pulling him closer.

“I know right,” he hummed with a cheeky smile gracing his lips as he indulged you in the kiss you were craving.

Jimin wrapped his arms around your waist, supporting you as you pushed Jimin back to lay against the pillows completely. He was so warm against you, his lips tasting like the remnants of the coffee he had earlier and the spearmint gum he had to chase the bitter taste away, but you couldn’t imagine a taste any sweeter than Jimin’s. You allowed yourself to relax against Jimin’s chest as he deepened the kiss, allowing his tongue to meet yours as your hands roamed from his cheeks to his shoulders, massaging the tense flesh beneath your fingertips. You hummed in approval when a hand moved up to tug through your hair, a gasp falling between your parted lips when Jimin’s other hand gripped the flesh of your ass, gently squeezing and fondling as his lips moved down your jaw to press hot, wet kisses into the flesh of your neck.

His lips and tongue were so hot against your skin, your light breaths turning into soft moans when he applied more pressure, sucking and nibbling at the base of your throat. You knew he was leaving marks, the possessive man Jimin was. Normally he wouldn’t dare mark your neck, usually he preferred to leave his claims of possession in lower, more hidden places, but you couldn’t care less when his lips felt so good against you. You whimpered softly at the menstruations, pulling on the back of Jimin’s neck to pull him up for another kiss.

Jimin chuckled at your enthusiasm, relishing in the whine you gave him when he moved his lips from your mouth to your ear.

“Do you love me Y/N? Am I the love of your life?” he teased, his fingers moving up from your ass to travel underneath your shirt. You nodded, letting out a shaky gasp when his teeth dragged against the shell of your ear, his hot breath fanning over the abused skin as he took your earlobe between his lips, lightly tonguing at the soft flesh.

“Use your words, princess.”

“I love you, Jimin,” you moaned when Jimin’s hands found your covered breasts, fondling the flesh between his grip as his thumbs traced the top of your chest. “God, you’re the love of my life.” you whimpered as you started to grind into his lap, and Jimin chuckled at the desperate and shaky movements of your hips.

“That’s right, my fucking beautiful slut.” Jimin growled in your ear, making you gasp and whine when his hands moved back to your hips, stopping your gyrating movements.

“So desperate for me, hmm? My needy little girl.” Jimin smirked, letting his lips brush the lightest of kisses against your cheeks. You turned your head, trying to capture his lips with yours but he moved down to your neck again, leaving more blue and purple blossoms in his wake.

“My slut loves me so much, right?”

“Yes,” you moaned, doing your best to move your hips against the growing hardness between Jimin’s legs, but his grip was too strong.

“That’s right princess, because no one loves you as much as me. No one knows your body like I do, and no one can make you feel pleasure like I do. You’re mine.” his voice was raspy and deep and you whined at his words.

“Please, Jimin…”

“What do you want Y/N? Go on, use your big girl words and beg for me.” Jimin smirked against your collarbone, laving his tongue over a very tender bruise.

“Jimin, please, fuck me! Make me yours and only yours, I want to feel every part of you against me, I want to feel all the pleasure that only you can give me.”

Jimin couldn’t resist anymore, pulling you in for a searing kiss. You moaned in relief, eagerly kissing him back with tongue and teeth as he gathered you in his arms and flipped your positions on the bed so that he was the one on top. You ran your fingers through his pink hair as his fingers unbuttoned your night shirt, relishing in the feeling of his touch. Jimin broke the kiss with a soft pop, smirking at the pout in your lips, all swollen and red just for him.

“Take your shirt off slut, I want to see you.” Jimin ordered, sitting back on his heels to take his shirt off too. You threw your shirt aimlessly into another part of the room, watching Jimin with bated breath.

Jimin was breathtaking. His body firm with golden skin stretching over tightly packed muscles. You licked your lips at the sight, wanting nothing more than to have a taste of him on your tongue.

“Can I touch you?” Jimin smirked at your question, purposefully flexing his muscles as he hovered back over you, his hands coming to rest on either side of your face.

“You may.”

You almost cried in relief as you ran your hands across his chest, down his abdomen to thumb at the muscles and smooth lines he worked so hard to achieve.

“You look so beautiful with this color on you princess,” Jimin whispered as his thumbs toyed with the straps of your marron bra. Jimin carefully undid the hooks, pulling the fabric away to reveal your bare breasts to his wandering eyes. You keened when he gripped your breasts between his nimble fingers, moaning as his thumbs played with your nipples until they became hard. Jimin hummed softly when you buried your head into the crook of his neck, leaving your own marks of possession into his skin that he’d wear proudly.

“C’mere.” Jimin pulled you up into a lighter kiss, taking his time as his hands worshiped your breast and as yours explored his abdomen. His fingers moved from your breast to your shorts, gently toying with them before he stood from the bed, admiring how debauched and sultry you looked just from his hands and lips.

“Take them off.”

You followed Jimin’s orders eagerly, a rush of arousal flowing through you as you tossed your shorts and underwear in the same direction as your shirt. Jimin chuckled at your desperation, as he slowly slid off his sweatpants. Your mouth watered at the sight; his dick was so hard and so thick; you felt another rush of arousal drip down your thighs and you knew Jimin saw when you heard him groan hungrily.

Jimin climbed back onto the bed, laying down on his stomach in front of you, his face only inches away from your dripping core. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to him. His nose ran up and down the inside of your thighs, making you shiver with the feeling of his heat so close to where you wanted him the most.

“So pretty,” his voice was husky and deep and it made you clench in anticipation as you felt yourself become wetter from Jimin’s words alone.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me. Spread your legs wider for me princess.” Jimin guided your thighs to part even further, exposing every inch of you to his lust-filled eyes and he cursed.

“You’re dripping, you dirty slut. Your cunt is so pretty, so wet and aching to be filled with my cock, hmm?”

“Please, Jimin.” you begged, your stomach clenching and legs trembling.

“Bet I could just slide in, no prep needed. But that wouldn’t be nice of me, would it? You wanted me to give you the pleasure that only I can give you. To feel every part of me against you, to make you mine.” Jimin placed staccato kisses into your thighs, and you moaned when his lips kissed at your folds.

“Jimin, please-” your words were cut off by a whimper when his tongue slowly moved up your labia.

Suddenly, Jimin’s lips were sucking at your clit and you were gone, moaning without restraint as you tugged at Jimin’s locks, urging him to get closer. His tongue was like hot fire against you, burning your skin as he moved between your clit and your dripping hole, building you up with fast and precise strokes to your clit only to bring you back down with the full of his tongue gently gliding through your lips to lap up every drop of your essence.

When Jimin moved back up to your clit after bringing you down for a third time, you shoved him deeper into your pussy, grinding against his tongue as you took what you wanted with broken moans of pleasure falling past your lips. Jimin’s fingers soon joined the mix, one then two slipping in easily as he started a brutal and punishing pace.

“Jimin,” you cried when you felt your release building up in the pit of your stomach, urging him closer as he moaned against your folds. He released your clit with a pop and you cried at the loss of the pleasure, moaning just as quickly when he added a third finger to pound against your g-spot relentlessly.

“What is it? Does my slut want to cum around my fingers?” Jimin’s lips hovered over yours, his eyes staring intensely at the expressions flicking across your face.

“Oh, shit,” you wailed, closing your eyes from the embarrassment at having Jimin look at you so intensely.

“Look at me Y/N.”

Your eyes shot open at the growl in Jimin’s voice, daring not to disobey him at the cost of your orgasm steadily building up. You were horny and so, so close to cumming.

“You want to cum?” Jimin asked mockingly, his thumb flicking over your clit. You were chanting a mindless mess of pleas, begging Jimin to bring you to release.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes. Jimin, please, please let me cum. I want to cum around you so bad.” you cried.

“Who’s making you feel this good?”

“You! You are Jimin, please, please-”

“That’s right, now cum around my fingers, slut.”

And you did, clenching hard around Jimin’s fingers as you cried out his name into the night. The pleasure was blinding and overwhelming, making your body tremble as you rode out your high through Jimin’s relentless pounding, clutching at the bed sheets beneath you as your thighs shook from the pleasure. Jimin removed his fingers from you, humming as he looked at your release dripping off of him, taking his fingers into his mouth and sucking down your taste eagerly.

“There’s a good girl, coming just from my fingers and tongue. You taste so fucking good, so sweet just for me.”

“Jimin,” you whined for him once you saw him sit up. His cock was dripping and red and looked so thick; you wanted nothing more than to feel it pound inside you, so deep. You clenched at the thought alone, and even though Jimin’s fingers were wonderful, you wanted something harder and hotter pounding at you instead.

“Don’t worry princess, I’m far from done with you.” Jimin smirked, his lips and chin shining with your release. He hovered back over you, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he gave you a sweet kiss. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer to you.

“How do you want it princess?” Jimin asked after indulging you in your fill of kisses.

“Wanna be on my hands and knees for you.” you admitted softly. Jimin chuckled and pecked your lips, gently slapping your cheek.

“Then get to it slut.” Jimin’s voice grew hard again and you readily got in position, arching your back and presenting yourself to Jimin’s gaze.

“Mm, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” Jimin planted a harsh slap on your ass, making you moan as he fondled the flesh, soothing the slight burn.

Jimin lined himself up with your entrance, teasingly dragging the head of his cock through your folds before sinking it inside you. You both groaned in unison as Jimin stretched your walls, sliding every inch in until he bottomed out inside you, his hips flush with your ass. He stopped to let you adjust, and you savored the feeling of how thick Jimin felt inside you; how hot and hard he was pressing in all the right places.

“Jimin, please, move.”

That was all Jimin needed before he started moving his hips, pounding your cunt into oblivion. Jimin’s grip was tight on your hips as he fucked you raw, pushing you down into the mattress until your arms gave out. He draped himself across your back, holding your hips up as you moaned wetly into the pillow beneath you. Jimin brought his hand to your hair, pulling your head back up to hear your moans and cries fully, making the most beautiful music to his ears.

“What a good little slut,” Jimin praised. “Letting me fuck you nice and deep and raw.”

“Shit!” you wailed as he pulled your hair, increasing the pace of his thrusts, his dick stretching you out wide and rough, just the way you liked it. “Jimin!”

“God, you’re so tight,” Jimin growled, his hips slamming into the flesh of your ass. “This dripping cunt was made just for me, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, God, please, please-”

“That’s not my name Y/N.” Jimin cooed mockingly, grinding his dick deeper inside of you as his sweaty chest pressed even closer, his hot breath coming out in pants next to your ear. “Who’s making you feel this good?”

“You! Jimin, Jimin, please-” you started to cry, wanting nothing more than to come again.

“You’re doing such a good job coating my cock, slut. So tight and pretty, wanna fill you up until you’re dripping.”

Your pussy clenched around his hot, hard cock. Jimin hissed, increasing the pace of his thrusts.

“I felt that slut, you just got so tight around me. You like the sound of that? Want me to cum in this dirty, greedy pussy of yours?

“Jimin,” you gasped, getting closer to the edge from Jimin’s relentless thrusting. He was going hard enough to hurt, his breaths coming out in harsh pants against your ear only serving to rile you up even more. “Please.”

“Want you to cum around me,” he said, removing his hand from your hair to rub harsh circles over your clit. You wailed into the pillow below, pushing your ass further into the air as you whined. Your second orgasm was rapidly approaching, making your whole body tremble with want and need.

“Need you to cum around me slut, so I can fill you up just the way you like it. Make it nice and messy for you, make sure everyone knows you belong to me. Make sure you feel me dripping from you for days.”

You cried into the sheets, gripping them tightly in your fists as your pussy clenched around Jimin’s dick, pushing you closer and closer until you came with a scream, thrashing around the bed in pleasure. You felt tears coat your cheeks as Jimin’s pace somehow became even harder, pushing you into oversensitivity.

“That’s it, such a good girl for milking this cock, now you’re going to take what I’m going to give you, right?”

You nodded helplessly, trembling under his pounding as you tried to clench around him, to make Jimin feel just as good as he made you feel.

“Fuck, yes, you’re clenching me so tight,” Jimin panted, and you soon felt a warmth spread throughout your pussy, hot and bursting from your seems as Jimin came with a shout of your name, grinding himself into you to prolong his pleasure.

Jimin collapsed on top of you, whispering soft praises and words of encouragement into your ears as he kissed your head. He carefully pulled himself out of you and you both groaned at the loss of warmth.

“Shit Jimin,” you chuckled breathlessly, flipping yourself over to look at the creamy mess between your thighs. “You outdid yourself this time. Holy shit.”

Jimin just giggled at your praise, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll be back.” he winked, walking into your adjoining bathroom and returning quickly with a wet cloth. He carefully wiped you clean, humming softly as he did so and blowing you kisses from his pursed lips. He dropped the cloth back off in the bathroom, throwing you a new pair of panties and your sleep shirt as he pulled on his sweats. You put the items on gratefully as Jimin joined you back on the bed, holding you close to his chest as his fingers rubbed your back.

“I love you, Y/N.” Jimin mumbled into your hair.

“I love you too Jimin.” you looked up and frowned at the serious expression on his face. “Are you okay? I was fine, right?”

“Oh princess,” Jimin placed a kiss on your lips and you melted at the contact. “You were amazing. I just want you to know that I do love you very much.”

“Oh,” you hummed softly, placing a kiss on Jimin’s cheek. “I love you too. Very much.” you giggled and Jimin couldn’t help but smile down at you.

“I’m going to head to the bathroom, okay?”

“Alright princess, then cuddles?”

“All the cuddles you could ever want.” you agreed, pecking his lips before heading into the bathroom.

Jimin waited until you shut the door behind you before standing from the bed, moving towards the open window. Jimin opened it just a little wider, breathing in the fresh night air.

“Next time, make yourself less obvious, you fucking pervert.” Jimin watched as Taehyung stood from his hiding spot in the rose bushes, unashamed and debauched under the moonlight.

“Did she…?”

“Do you think we would’ve done all that if she knew we had an audience?” Jimin rolled his eyes.

“Are you going to tell her?” Taehyung asked. Jimin just chuckled.

“I’m not sure, I like seeing you on edge. If you leave her alone, then I won’t.”

“We have a project-”

“I know,” Jimin cut Taehyung off. “After the project, you leave her, you leave us, alone. And your little secret will go down with the both of us to the grave.”

And with that, Jimin shut the window and the curtains, blocking Taehyung’s view to the inside of the room. Taehyung knew then, that he’d have to bring his plan to fruition a little sooner than planned.

~*~

It was Friday night, and you were all alone with Jimin by your side. Jennie and Jisoo were out, and Jimin was surprisingly not cramming for some kind of test, so you both took it upon yourselves to spend a little more quality time together, this time on the living room couch, watching anime on the huge TV the homeowners had left for the housemates. You were both cuddled up, snacks on hand, and everything was perfect.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Do you want me to get it?” Jimin made a move to stand, but you pushed him back down.

“No, you sit. I’ll get the door.” you stood, walking over to the door and opening it with a smile.

You remembered being pulled outside, against the wall of your house as something was pressed against your face. You heard Jimin shouting and an exasperated sigh before everything faded to black, not even remembering falling face first to the ground.

You had never been drunk before, but if you were to guess, this is what a hangover would feel like.

Your head was pounding against your skull, like a migraine that would be impossible to cure. Your face hurt, feeling heavy and weighed down against your head. You didn’t even want to open your eyes in fear of more pain being brought down upon you. But you managed to do it anyways.

This wasn’t your room.

That was your first thought when you sat up, rubbing your heavy and tired eyelids. These weren’t you bed sheets, no matter how comfortable the red gingham was surrounding your entire body. Your eyes looked around the simple room, but you were soon wide awake when you saw what was sitting so blatantly in front of you.

Your face.

More importantly, your pictures, strewn about the navy-blue wall in front of you, arranged in the shape of a heart. The memories came flooding back as your body was thrusted into a state of shock. Jimin’s yelling, being shoved against the side of your house as your eyes met the ones of-

“Angel!”

Your head snapped in the direction of Taehyung’s voice as he entered the bedroom. In his arms was a tray, and he hummed softly as he sat on the corner of the bed, placing the tray right on your lap with a satisfied smile. Chocolate chip waffles, with bacon and hash browns on the side with a glass of apple juice.

“You know my favorite breakfast?” you cringed at how small and broken your voice sounded, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look up at Taehyung’s enthusiastic nod.

“Of course, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t know what my girlfriend loved?”

You stiffened at Taehyung’s words, keeping your eyes trained on your lap, trying to avoid the appetizing food in front of your face.

“I-Is...Jimin-”

“Don’t!” Taehyung growled, and you couldn’t stop the whimper that left your lips. “I don’t want to hear another man’s name coming out of your lips. The only name you should be saying is mine.”

Taehyung shook his head in disappointment, but in the next second he was giggling like a little boy in a candy store.

“You’re going to be the death of me angel, with all the power you have over me.” Taehyung sighed wistfully.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the shaking in your body and to keep the tears from streaming down your cheeks.

“Is...h-he...okay?”

“He’s alive, don’t worry angel,” a wave of relief rushed over you. You managed to look Taehyung in the eye when you spoke your next words, trying your best to put on a brave face.

“What do you know about me?”

You listened to Taehyung’s rant of love, admitting everything that he knew about you that he found from your social media and your intimate family’s pages as well. And you were scared at how detailed he was, even down to the dates of specific events happening. He went on and on, confessing his sick and obsessed love he had for you. And he did it all with a smile, with adoration overflowing in his eyes. When he finally stopped, after twenty long minutes, you didn’t know what to say or what to do. But Taehyung seemed to know.

Your body was stiff and still when Taehyung moved to sit behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as his chin fell onto your shoulder. You felt sick to your stomach, and the delicious smells from the food in front of you only worsened your nausea. You almost thought you would throw up when you felt Taehyung sag against you, pressing his chest into your back as he inhaled through his nose, letting out a shaky exhale with each breath he took. He was smelling you. Tears welled up in your eyes as panic overtook your entire body, wanting so bad just to get away, but you were trapped.

“Angel, eat.”

His words were simple, but all you heard was the underlying malice in his voice. You didn’t want to anger Taehyung, so you grabbed the fork with shaky hands, cutting yourself a piece of the waffle and placing it in your mouth. Your shoulders shook with sobs as tears started to stream down your face.

Of course, the food was delicious.

“Shh…” Taehyung whispered into your hair, gently swaying you both side to side as you dropped the fork on the plate with a loud clang. Taehyung pressed a gentle kiss into the side of your head. Though his lips were warm, you felt frozen to the core when you felt his legs wrap around yours, an aching hardness pressing into the small of your back.

“It’s okay, don’t cry. You’re where you belong now Y/N. Now you can finally be loved and worshiped the way you should be, the way you deserve to be.” Taehyung chuckled softly, and it took all your willpower to not move away when Taehyung’s lips brushed your ear. “Because he’ll never love you like I can.”

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