#to cope with. but the last two weeks have been especially bad. am I okay? Nope. but i'm coping and doing the best I can as I am. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

matthewtkachuk · 3 years ago

Text

it's not anyone - kevin hayes

When a promotion at work calls for you to transfer back to Philadelphia, your ex-fiancé offers you the guest room of the home you used to share. What could possibly go wrong?

pairing: kevin hayes x reader

warnings: angst angst angst, relationship breakdown, talk of marriage and babies, low key plus size reader (and mention of exercise as an unhealthy coping mechanism), travis konecny still sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, the over romanticization of spaghetti bolognese

word count: 10.1k

a/n: and here is the second part (that i am queueing up at 8:17 am bc i forgot to do it last night whoops). thank yall for the love and support but an especially big thank you to my sweet k @danglesnipecelly for without whom this fic would not exist or be nearly this long or sad

Space, as it turns out, is you packing a bag and checking into a hotel for a week.

It was space you wanted and space you received, going to sleep and waking up alone, and it’s clarity you seek but not necessarily clarity you find. At first it isn’t that bad, you’d had months and months of practice living without him after all. You’d survived the cold winter winds without him at your side, and you’d overcome the warmth of the sun without those treasured weeks spent on the Cape. This is different, though. At least then you’d had miles and hours and distance.

Now Kevin’s a fifteen minute car ride but you can’t bring yourself to make the trip.

Because things hadn’t changed. Not really. Kevin was still Kevin and you still weren’t the kind of girl who marries him and has the happy ending. You were the girl who had to prove her intelligence and competence, who had to overcome the initial dismissive glances that were always thrown her way. You had aspirations and dreams and goals taller than the Empire State Building, and you were never going to stop until you got what you wanted.

Problem is, at some point, it was Kevin and a life and a future and that home that became what you wanted. And at some point you realized that you might have given it all up for him, if he had asked you to pass on that promotion, you might have said okay. That was terrifying enough in and of itself, but in the end it didn’t even matter, because he had said it wasn’t enough. That you weren’t enough.

And so you’d gone, tail tucked between your legs and left hand ring finger bare, and you’d taken the position and you’d thrown yourself into work even further than you had before. You now had two things to prove: that you were worth it, and that losing Kevin was worth it too.

You couldn’t really say the former wasn’t true - two years later and you were in a senior leadership role, head of several projects and by all accounts thriving professionally. And yet when the opportunity presented itself to transfer back here, you hadn’t hesitated. Because no matter what you achieved professionally, you still hadn’t been able to prove the latter half of that statement.

The entire situation has your stomach in knots for the majority of the week. The feeling doesn’t subside, not when you’re scrolling through ads looking for an apartment to rent, not when your largest project to date is presented to the board as a resounding success. To the outside world, it’s a series of small victories, and your work team prepares to head out for a round of drinks Friday after work. Emily gives you a knowing look as you shake your head and tell her you won’t be able to make it. She knows you’re going to head for your hotel room where you can continue to beat yourself up over all of your mistakes in peace, and so they all leave you alone in your office, their excited voices carrying long after they’ve left.

You stay a bit longer, wrapping up a few things here and there before flicking off the light and preparing to head back to your hotel room where you plan to lay face down on the soft bed for a few hours before ordering takeout and ultimately going to bed alone.

The universe has other plans. That is, if the universe was 5 foot 10, standing outside of your office building wearing a sheepish smile and named Travis.

Frankly, you’re not in the mood for his shit or his shenanigans, whichever he’s here to provide. It’s been a long week, a long and lonely week, and you really just want to sleep until things get better. It’s like he can sense your desires, obnoxiously stepping in front of you to block you from running past him. You step left and he steps right, you go to move forward and he does too. Finally you snap, “Can I help you?”

He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t startle or crack. He just shrugs, “I need to talk to you.”

Swallowing down the hurt of your last encounter you shake your head subtly, “I think you’ve said more than enough to me, Travis. Now let me by.” He doesn’t budge though, actions as annoying as ever, and so you spin on your heel, turning and heading in the opposite direction. Sure it’ll take an extra few minutes to reach your car, but the sidestepping a confrontation is worth it.

Except he’s calling your name again, voice getting louder by the second, until he finally shouts out into the Philadelphia air, “I’m sorry!”

That’s enough to stop you in your tracks, hesitating on the cracked sidewalk. It gives him the opportunity to catch up to you. Despite your business casual outfit, you’d managed to put distance between you two. “I’m sorry,” he repeats himself, “It wasn’t fair of me to say that to you.”

“No it wasn’t,” you agree readily, but don’t offer anything further. Truthfully you’re confused, you don’t know what would have made him have such a complete turn around in his opinion of you and your motives or lack thereof. That conversation was months ago, and so much had happened since.

“You just - You don’t know what it was like, picking up the pieces when you left.” And you know that you left a mess for him to clean up, like you know that but the focus is only ever on how you broke Kevin. No one ever wants to talk about how he broke you too.

“Don’t know what it was like? I lived it, Travis. You don’t know what it was like. I didn’t just lose Kevin, I lost everyone. I left behind everything, and had to throw myself into my job to convince myself that it had been worth it. And it wasn’t, and then I came back and I am just doing the best I can here, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, and the three syllables are really starting to grate on your nerves. Your mom once said that a thousand ‘I’m sorry’s were worthless unless accompanied by changed behavior. “He didn’t tell us what happened then, and he won’t tell anyone now. Just keeps saying that he fucked up and didn’t think you were coming back this time. Talk to him.”

“Go home, Teeks,” is all you can think to say, bundling up in your coat and swiftly walking past him.

In the end, it’s nothing but pure spite for Travis that keeps you from returning to Kevin’s front door until Sunday. It was space you asked for and space you received but you found in the loneliness of that hotel room it wasn’t really space you wanted. If you’re honest with yourself, really honest with yourself, you realize it’s Kevin you want. It’s always Kevin, in whatever way he’ll have you. The want and the need is so visceral it’s almost painful, drumming through your veins and pumping through your blood.

You want him so badly, but you resign yourself to the fact that it will only ever be as a friend.

When the door opens to reveal a quiet, relieved Kev, you almost wish you hadn’t stayed away. The feeling lingers as he pulls you into his arms, squeezing a touch harder than necessary.

The hug turns awkward quickly, all traces of comfort lost as he clears his throat and steps back out of your space.

“Why are you home?”

And isn’t that the million dollar question. What has changed since you scampered out of your once shared bedroom with an ache between your thighs but an even larger ache in your heart? Nothing really. He’s still Kevin, the person you loved with the fire and passion of a thousand exploding suns. The person you still love. And you’re still just you, the person who will never be worthy of him.

You know that you make things worse by being here, you know that he hurts just as bad as you did, know that it hurts all the more with your presence in the home built upon your shared hopes and dreams. You know that he loves you, but you know that he also told you it didn’t matter.

Kevin tries, he really tries to not let the seed of hope you had planted in his chest when you let him back into your heart, soul and body take root but he’s a simple man. He loves you, wants you to come home and stay this time. For real, though. Not in his guest bedroom, not on the fringes of his life, but in your bedroom and in his arms. He wants to put that ring back on your finger, but right now especially, he wants you to say all those same things back to him.

It’s why he deflates when you tell him it was Travis. He deflates but then he lets the anger fill him once more. He meant it when he said that Travis means well, that he’s trying to protect Kevin’s heart from more heartbreak. It’s why he cornered you in the first place, why his eyes grew dark and suspicious whenever they met yours. It’s why Travis told you to come home.

Kevin doesn’t want it to be Travis meddling in your business, sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. He wants it to be you and he wants it to be him and he wants it to be you both together.

“Why did you want me to come home?” you ask quietly, giving him the chance to say everything that’s on his mind. You know he loves you, you know you love him, and he knows the very same. But he can’t say those words. He can’t say them because you’re not here to rekindle your love, you’re here because Travis told you to come home. And you ended your engagement for a reason, for two damn good reasons, and yeah one of them might have been solved by your new promotion and job relocation but that doesn’t fix the rest.

He can’t tell you the truth, but he can apologize. “I’m sorry,” he says, but you’re sick of apologies. You’re sick of feeling like this, you’re sick of having him but not having him, you’re sick of feeling like a stranger in your own home. You pull back, not quite leaving the warmth of his presence but no longer allowing yourself to stand mere inches away from pressing against him, ready to tell him that and a whole lot more.

The expression on his face stops you. It’s largely unreadable, but somewhere beneath the surface it reads sad.

And so you whisper, “I’m sorry, too,” and let yourself step back into the comfort of his arms.

Being Kevin’s friend is an extraordinary study in patience and torture. He’s right there but he’s not at the same time; so close but so far away. The distance between you is only accentuated by the physical distance during the season. You have no claim on him, nor any stake in his behavior other than to play the part of concerned friend. It doesn’t stop your heart from sinking as you spot him in the corner of some of the boys’ insta stories, partying it up in another city, getting cozy with some girl who isn’t you.

It’s embarrassing and it’s childish, but you go out that night and find someone to take you home. It’s not some revenge thing, though. You don’t gloat about it to Kevin when he comes home, don’t rub it in his face or make it abundantly clear. The way his eyes follow you throughout the room make you believe that he knows anyway.

You don’t talk about it, don’t want to talk about it. Don’t want to feed him some line about you both being grown adults who can be with whoever they wanna be with, when your heart knows the truth is you’re lonely, but it’s not strangers you meet in bars that you want to be with.

It’s a sick cycle that you both run through, chasing the high of feeling someone else’s attention on you. Proving over and over again that you’re both capable of moving on, even as you sit side by side in the deepest mud, tires spinning and ultimately going nowhere.

The thing about buying your dream house at the end of a cul de sac, with thoughts and plans of a beautiful family at the forefront of your mind, is that you end up purchasing a house large enough to fit that beautiful family.

And when one of Kevin’s oldest and closest friends is traded to Philly… one of those extra bedrooms is offered to and accepted by him.

“Just like old times,” Keith says, bags dropped at the front door, pulling you and Kevin in for a group hug. And it is, just like old times, just like those early years in New York, the boys’ friendship healing the jagged edges of Kev’s broken heart in a way you’re not able to do just yet.

But it also isn’t like old times, as you head to sleep alone and wake up alone and curl up on your own side of the couch alone. Keith’s teasing grin and knowing looks aren’t as jarring as the ruthless way he used to torment you and Kevin when you used to be stuck to his side like glue.

“You’ve gotta stop buying these,” Keith mentions offhandedly one quiet Saturday morning, devouring sour patch kids by the handful. You only briefly look up from your laptop where you’re playing a bit of catch up - you’d gone to the game last night rather than finish your deliverable and you were paying for it by missing out on your usual Saturday morning sleep in - with a scowl on your face.

“No one said you had to eat all of them,” you reply delicately, nose upturned ever so slightly before you return your attention to the screen in front of you. “Besides I didn’t buy any of that.” By that, you mean the horrendous and absolutely not professional athlete diet plan (or white collar VP diet plan for that matter) approved hoard of candy that seems to be almost magical in its inability to dwindle in supply.

“Kevin doesn’t even like sour candy,” is mumbled behind a full mouth of candy, but you work out the meaning all the same.

Kevin doesn’t even like sour candy rings in your ears on repeat the rest of the weekend.

Keith’s presence in your home - in Kevin’s home - only serves to further remind you that none of this situation is normal. It’s the look in his eye and the words on the tip of his tongue that you quiet with a single sharp glance. It’s Keith witnessing every awkward moment that you try so hard to ignore - every weird half-touch, every mumbled apology, every lingering and coded glance.

He sees you making Kev a cup of coffee just the way he likes it and setting it aside for him so that it’ll be the perfect temperature when he wakes up for morning skate twenty minutes after you leave from work with your own coffee mug in hand. He sees your eyes lingering on the photo still at the center of all the frames on the mantle whenever you watch tv, flickering over to where Kev sits on the couch beside him every so often.

He sees the hot shame that blooms throughout your entire body when you come home early one morning, dress and hair askew and bright red mark on your neck you fail to cover beneath your hand when you spot them both at the kitchen table. The way you stumble through an excuse and flee into the sanctity of the guest bedroom. The clench of Kevin’s jaw and the shake of his hands and the scrape of the plate on the table, eggs untouched as he claims he lost his appetite.

It’s a strange dance he is the spectator to, of the two of you so clearly as in love with each other as you were in New York and yet neither of you doing a damn thing about it. Teasing the two of you used to be one of his favorite things - is there anything out there half as enjoyable as reducing Kevin to a blushing bumbling idiot, stumbling over his words at being caught making out with his girlfriend at the bar? And yet there’s nothing fun about the torture you put each other, and everyone else around you, through.

Keith’s known Kevin a long time, since they were kids in Dorchester, and so he has no problem interrogating him one morning, driving home together after an early skate. Kevin shuts it down quickly though, both hands gripping the wheel tightly and gaze focused on the horizon ahead, he only says it’s a lot more complicated than it seems.

Funnily enough, you say damn near the same thing when he interrogates you too.

Keith’s not the only one frustrated with your lack of a relationship status. As you and Kevin rebuilt your friendship, so too did you rebuild your friendship with his teammates and significant others. Despite his earlier reservations, Travis is about ten more pouty Kevin practices away from tossing the two of you in the locker room and locking the door.

Ryanne is sweet but not at all subtle in her insinuations and you swear she hands off her children into Kevin’s entirely capable hands often for no reason other than to see if she can get you to break.

Just like Travis alone, they all have good intentions and they all want what they think is best for you, but they just don’t have the full story. Only an idiot would believe that the feelings weren’t there anymore for either of you. There’s too much lingering in those glances and those half touches and in all that history.

But that history is not in black and white and neither is the future and most certainly not the present.

Because you can love him and love him and love him - and you do! - but it’ll never be enough. Because it’s not enough and you’re not enough and your love isn’t enough.

After all, isn’t that one of the last things Kevin said to you before you gave back his grandmother’s ring?

You don’t think you’ll ever cook for Kevin in that big beautiful kitchen without remembering sophomore year and the good times and New York and the first months of bliss here.

The longing isn’t as painful or as deep now as it used to be in New York alone, cooking dinners for one in a cramped galley style kitchen in a Manhattan apartment. Nor the intensity of those first few months back in this house without the matching ring.

It’s still there, though, locked down deep beside all the words you want to say but fear you never will.

He has no obligation to, but Kevin likes to help you cook still. And still asks how high when you tell him to jump, albeit without the press of hands or lips to skin attached to the response. He makes an alright line cook, certainly no sous chef, as he dutifully prepares whatever you’ve asked of him alongside you in the kitchen.

Keith’s got some chirp for the two of you, one that makes Kevin throw his head back in a full belly guffaw while you angrily point the knife you’d just been cutting vegetables for the salad with and threaten to let him starve.

Kevin’s pretty good at one thing independently of you though, and that’s grilling. The kitchen backs out onto the deck through a set of elegant french doors. They give you a front row seat to the way his arms flex as he flips the steaks, the way his full pout closes over the lip of the dripping beer bottle, the way his hand pulls off his backwards cap before running through his hair and putting it back into place.

Unfortunately, the open style of the living room and kitchen give Keith a front row seat to you and the way your eyes don’t leave Kevin through the door. It’s his chuckle that snaps you out of it, and your death glare that makes him quiet.

Kevin sees it all, sees the way you shove one of his oldest friends, sees you laugh and joke and pout. And it makes him want. And it makes him wish. And it makes him wonder.

It makes him want you and it makes him wish he’d fought for you harder and it makes him wonder where you would be if you both had. He wonders if you’d be married by now, if you’d proudly wear a wedding band alongside the engagement ring. If there’d be children running around, beautiful like their mama and loud just like him. Maybe you would be pregnant now, hand resting on your growing belly and cursing the additional two children in the house you called your husband and his friend.

But then he remembers that wasn’t something you had wanted, not with him.

No, the longing isn’t as painful or as constant, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still exist. Or that Kevin doesn’t feel it too.

Girls night gets a little out of hand when the guy Emily’s been seeing posts another girl on his story in a way that is clearly not at all platonic. It leads to several rounds of shots between reassurances that she can do so much better than Dave in sales and some two stepping that was more akin to a centipede learning to waltz than a country-western dance.

What had intended to be a relaxed night with your core group of friends and coworkers quickly spirals, vodka sodas get downed like they're water alone while plain glasses of water are rebuked as if you’d all been offered pure cyanide in a cup. The night blurs, but you think you dance on a table or two and almost get into a brawl with some guy who won’t take no for an answer from a girl you’ve genuinely never met before.

It’s somewhere between learning all about Kelsey, as you’d discovered her name was, and the town she grew up in before listening to her speak about her loser ex-boyfriend that has you missing Kevin. It’s sad, really, the way you all but deflate in your chair even as your friends cheer Kelsey on in her retelling of a particularly nasty fight.

“Call him,” Emily nudges you a little while later, but you shake your head defiantly. You weren’t about to ruin girls night all because you couldn’t stop thinking about your ex. It was kind of the antithesis of all that the night had turned out to be.

You manage another few hours, trying your absolute best to keep the pout off your face and you succeed for a time, you really do. Honestly you think you’re doing a good job of staying engaged, clinking shot glasses and going to the bathroom in a small group. But then Emily’s reappearing at your side again, a little less gentle in her nudging as she almost sends you sprawling to the floor. “Call him.”

“No.” You’re forceful in your delivery but you don’t really think Emily’s even paying attention. Suddenly she seems stone cold sober, which absolutely was not the point of tonight after instagram had brought everything crashing down.

“Gimme your phone,” she demands, while the other girls crowd around you and giggle, demanding you do what Em says.

“No!” You move to shove your phone in your bra where you’re reasonably certain she won’t follow, not in public at least, but she’s got much better reflexes than you and manages to pull it from your grasp without much of a fight.

Before you know it she’s dialing the phone and speaking to the one person you haven’t been able to keep your mind off all night.“Hi Kevin, it’s Emily. Uh huh. Yeah. Yeah. Uh huh. Yeah she wants you to come get her. Uh huh. Do you think you could give the rest of us a ride home too? It’s kinda late to uber. Uh huh. Okay see you soon.”

You would lament the fact that she’d done it at all if you weren’t tired and missing the warmth of his embrace.

When he texts to let you know he’s outside and then calls when that text remains unanswered and unopened, you pretend you don’t feel the subtle buzzing of your phone. As if you could just ignore him long enough and he would go away.

“You didn’t have to come,” you mumble embarrassedly, eyes focused on the tattered drink menu in front of you instead of his tall frame as he’d had to come into the bar to find you.

He says your name so earnestly you have no choice but to look up at him. “Of course I did, you know I did.”

You don’t say much else, too wrapped up in the quiet moment in the middle of a loud bar before Emily and your new friend Kelsey are guiding you out of the bar, Kevin not too far behind you.

You don’t say much else but you think about it all on the way home, mind running in a million different directions at once. Your friendship, your relationship, all the fights, all the insecurities, the end of everything and the beginning you wonder if you’re heading towards. Ultimately, you don’t get very far, falling asleep in the passenger seat and missing the drop off of every one of your friends.

Kev’s hands are gentle as they attempt to rouse you awake. You can still taste the tequila on your tongue, with the hazy fog of the strong liquor still lingering too, a quiet whine rising from the back of your throat. His chuckle is warm and comforting, familiar like the memory of your grandmother’s love, before it disappears with the slam of the driver's side door. You sigh back into the cool leather seat, sure he’s left you behind in peace until the cooler night air reaches your face from where he’s opened your door too.

His quiet chuckles turn into subdued laughter as you fight off his hands struggling to unbuckle your seatbelt, slurring something about being warm and comfy. “C’mon baby, bed’s even warmer and comfier,” he says, surprised when his words register as some kind of logic in your drunk state causing you to stop fighting. You’re a lot more compliant, going easily as he pulls your cold hands into his and tugs you out of the car.

Kevin guides you into the house, carefully helping you navigate the hazards of his home while you lean into his side, before dropping you off briefly at the kitchen table with a glass of water and a promise to be right back. Your vision’s a little hazy and the room’s a little spinny and you don’t want water, you want Kevin and the big bed you used to sleep in late on Sunday mornings whenever you could in. And so you wander into the room that used to be yours, a familiar path you could walk with your eyes closed, one you all but did.

The room is quiet for the moment and the bed looks so warm and inviting, you almost cross the space between and slide beneath the sheets. You only almost do it because at some point during your recognition and remembrance that those sheets aren’t the ones you’d picked out, Kevin has left the ensuite and is staring at you with a look of pure longing on his face.

It’s a bit like a bucket of ice cold water is dumped on you then, every trace of alcohol leaving your system with a single glance. It had been so easy. So easy to find your way into this room and almost into that bed. So easy for him to leave bed himself and come get you from the bar. Easy and right and what you both deserve.

And he sees it. Everything you’re not saying now, everything you haven’t been able to say thus far. He sees it all and he wants it, wants you. But it’s not you anymore and it’s not him anymore and it’s certainly not you and him together anymore.

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean-”

You’re just friends. Two friends with a lot of history who hurt each other over and over again and are sorry for it all. Two friends who go to sleep alone.

That night your dreams are clear but you don’t remember a single detail when you wake up alone other than that Kevin’s voice featured heavily in all of them.

“Looks like you had fun in Vegas,” you state nonchalantly, feigning disinterest as you stir the pot literally and figuratively. It’s an innocent enough statement out of context, just a friend making a remark about another friend’s mini vacation in the city of sin.

Except it wasn’t a vacation but the middle stop on a three game roadie and your intentions are anything but innocent. It’s hurt that fuels you and the strangest sense of betrayal even though you have no right to feel either of those things anymore. You’ve been trying, but you can’t get the image of Kevin’s large hands on some other girl’s waist out of your head.

It’s not fair, not when you have no claim to him other than your broken heart, not when you’ve had someone else’s hands on your own waist in turn.

Even if it’s his hands you want on your body, even if it’s his presence your body gravitates to, even if the future you want is the future you were building together.

“Yeah…” he says slowly, voice low and calm as though he was speaking to a cornered animal. He knows you know why Vegas was fun, the way he appeared in the background of someone’s insta story.

You know it’s not fair and you know you don’t have a right and above anything else you don’t actually want to start a fight. You don’t want to jeopardize the friendship you’ve built with him,

the strides you’ve taken together to reduce the awkwardness and return some of the banter. And so you shake your head a little and turn your back to him as you refocus your attention on the boiling pot in front of you.

“You don’t get to do that.” It’s authoritative the way he speaks, though you hear his own hurt beneath it all.

“I know,” you reply quietly.

“It’s not fair,” he continues, all but urging you to look at him with his tone of voice.

You can’t, though. Can't face him to see the look you know is resting on his face. You can only nod, speaking again, “I know.”

“Look at me please.”

You do, finally, but not before reducing the heat of the stove and putting the lid on the pot to simmer. There’s a pull in your stomach as you look into his eyes, guilt mixing in with the hurt in your heart. You want to wrap yourself around him, push all of your broken pieces back together in the safety of his arms, tell him you love him and you want him.

“I’m sorry,” you say instead, but you’re sick of apologies and so is he. You wish you could bathe in the warmth of his love like you had for so many years, but you both made your beds and now you had to lie in them alone.

“I don’t want you to be sorry anymore,” he says and he means it. He doesn’t want you plagued with feelings of guilt and hurt, doesn’t want you to have to make reparations when those emotions twist and turn until you’ve done or said something you regret.

“I don’t know how to stop being sorry.” Sorry for picking a fight when you know you shouldn’t have. Sorry for hurting him and you at every turn. Sorry for moving into this house once again but even sorrier for having left it. Sorry for the state of your relationship, a decent friendship to be sure but not the deep, all encompassing love you’d enjoyed for so long. Sorry that you and your love and your future were never enough.

Staring at him you see it all, see that it’s your actions and inaction that have caused so much hurt alongside the words he once spoke to you. You also see a way out, though it’s not a good solution, but a cowardly one.

“I should move out.” For real this time. Not an empty threat thrown about, not a reaction to a meddling friend, not a dark thought had in the middle of the night in a cold bed all alone. A real answer, a course of action, a promise.

“How many times-“ His initial reaction is frustration, but it’s not necessarily at you, more of a knee jerk reaction to the panic of losing you once again. Kevin knows that if you move out he doesn’t just lose your continued presence in this house you’ve made feel like a home again, but you both also lose all the progress you’ve made together. He knows that while absence may make the heart grow fonder, it also allows you the opportunity to pull away for good. “I don’t want that, baby. I don’t want you to go.”

The pet name slips out once again but you’re too focused on the gentle steps he’s taking toward you. One hand flies to your chest to try and soothe your own panic you feel as every emotion pours into your body while the other flies up to halt his motions. “I don’t want to go either.”

One benefit to the strides you’d made together is the way honesty comes a little easier, words falling untroubled from your lips.

“Then don’t.” It sounds so simple, stay here forever, but it’s not that simple is it? Because one day he’s going to find someone who is enough, whose love is worth fighting for, worth asking to stay. “Don’t leave me again.”

There’s so much unsaid in the words between you, but you really don’t want to leave. Maybe it’s wrong, maybe it’s weird or strange or unorthodox, but you don’t want to leave him or this kitchen or this house.

“I don’t know how to do this without you,” you stammer out as you enter his space. He opens for you in turn, pulling you into his body and wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“You don’t have to.”

Not yet, anyway.

The end of the season brings a result that no one wanted, and a team barbeque at the Konecny’s household that you manage to get an invite to as a consequence of your renewed friendship with the team. It’s going well, the sun is a welcome warmth on your face and the sundress you’d chosen to wear fits the way you like it to. Baby Konecny is in your arms while you chat amicably with his mom until the sound of something breaking has her rushing off momentarily.

“You can’t do that,” Kevin says as he sidles up beside you, his large hand coming to rest on the baby’s head briefly before sliding down his back and then dropping to his side.

“What?” you ask in surprise, shaken from the image of Kevin holding a tiny baby to his chest you’d gotten lost in.

“You can’t just hold Teeks’ kid,” he clarifies and it sends your heart plummeting down into the depths of your stomach. You hadn’t meant any harm, when Karly asked if you wanted to hold her son, you found you couldn’t deny her, or yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you stammer out, eyes wildly looking for one of the baby’s parents, wondering if you’d find Travis glaring at you like he had done when he’d cornered you months ago. “I didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries.”

Kevin can see the panic in your eyes, the tension in your shoulders and hurries to explain himself. “That’s not it. There’s nothing wrong with you holding him.”

“Then what are you talking about?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, tugging on the ends briefly before schooling his features once again. “Because it makes me want things I can’t have.”

Your heart stops then, surely he couldn’t be implying what you think he is. He couldn’t be saying that you were the thing he wanted but couldn’t have. “Kevin.” There’s a desperation in your tone that reflects the desperation swirling in his gut and it spurs him on.

“I wanted all that with you,” he motions at the baby and then the beautiful backyard you’re standing in. His voice drops to a lower volume, “I still want it with you. And I’m sorry I said that, I know we’re just friends and I know you never wanted that with me but I couldn’t keep it in any longer.”

“Kevin.” You say his name once again but he shakes his head, so sure of his own convictions that you don’t know if you’ll be able to get through to him, and walks away from you. You’re quick to hand off the baby to his mom and then you’re searching for Kev in the depths of the Konecny household.

He’s on the front porch, hands tightly gripping the railing. His knuckles grow even whiter as you take your place beside him. “I always wanted all of this with you,” you admit quietly.

“Don’t,” he chokes out, as if the single syllable holds every bit of hurt he’s been holding onto since you left. “You made it clear when you left that you didn’t want to have my kids. And that’s okay, I’m not mad anymore. I want you to have everything you want and nothing you don’t. And I’m going to get over it okay? We’re going to be friends and we’re going to be fine.”

“I never said that,” you reply, shaking your head. He goes to rebut you, but you let a bit of the anger take over as you pull back from his side. “I would never say that because that’s not what I wanted. I wanted you and the babies and that beautiful house we picked out together. You’re the one who didn’t want me. You’re the one who didn’t ask me to stay. You’re the one who said I wasn’t enough.”

It’s the first time your respective truths are laid out for the both of you to see. The hurt and the arguments and the misguided views of what the other wanted hang in the balance between you. Finally he sees the truth.

He wanted you and you wanted him and somewhere along the way everything had gotten so fucked up that you’d both lost it all.

You don’t realize you’re crying until his large thumbs are wiping away the tear tracks down your cheeks. His voice is a lot softer, much of the edge gone from his tone. “I didn’t ask you to stay because I couldn’t do that to you. I couldn’t take your dreams away from you. It was me who wasn’t worth it.”

Your head tips back in a futile attempt to stop the tears from spilling from your watery eyes. Realizing this is the closest thing to honesty your relationship has had in a long time, you decide there’s no point in pussyfooting along the truth. “There would have been other promotions, other jobs, other opportunities! For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be someone important. I wanted to climb the corporate ladder and mean something. And then I met you, and the only thing I wanted was to be important to you, to mean something to you.”

“You were,” his hands go to grip your face and yours move to grip his forearms. “You are.”

“Then why aren’t we together? Why did we let ourselves fall apart?”

“Because we lost faith. We stopped listening to each other and started projecting our own insecurities. You didn’t think you were enough for me and I didn’t think I was either.” There’s a lot of truth in his words, a lot of buried insecurities finally being unearthed as you dig up the casket of your failed relationship.

“I just want to love you,” you beg, squeezing your hands where they rest on his arms. “Will you let me?”

The way your lips meet finally isn’t fireworks, there’s no thunder or background music track. It’s home, warm and secure and safe. It’s a kiss first thing when you wake up, morning breath and all. It’s a reunion after a string of away games, flinging your body into his waiting arms and letting him kiss every inch of your skin. It’s Kevin and it’s you and it’s love.

You leave the party without saying goodbye and you let him show you just how deeply his love for you runs beneath his skin. Kissing him is so much sweeter without the weight of guilt and regret holding you back. He holds you and kisses you and loves you and tries to put the broken pieces of both of you back together. He pushes and pulls and presses and you go willingly, giving into him and every emotion you’ve been neglecting.

In the morning, you wake in his arms but you swallow down the fear this time, staying until he wakes too.

“I can feel you staring at me,” he says lowly, voice heavy with the last dregs of sleep. It makes you laugh, curling into his bare chest and hiding your face in his neck.

Still, you can’t help but ask, “what are you gonna do about it?”, the words spoken against his skin. Your quiet, morning laughter turns into shrieks as he abruptly flips you both, digging his fingers into your sides until you cry for mercy.

“You bought me candy,” you say, pushing his hair back with one hand.

He doesn’t deny it, smirk turning soft as he rebutts, “and you set out my suits on game days.”

“Why did you do that?” You have to ask him, need him to say out loud the things you know in your heart to be true.

“Because I love you.” He says it so simply, so matter of factly. As if you’d asked him the color of the sky or which mascot in the NHL was his favorite (as if there were any answer other than Gritty).

He stills above you, body hovering over your own while you stare into his eyes. There’s a lot of love swimming in there and it gives you pause, the tiniest cracks in your happiness and self-esteem forming as your traitorous mind fixates on a single fact. One second that very same look of love had been written across his face, and the next it hadn’t been enough. A few ‘I’m sorry’s and sex didn’t magically make all of your issues go away, otherwise you would have been okay months ago.

Kevin sees it - the doubt and the questions and the anxiety, he sees the fear in your eyes and the desire to run. He sees it all, but it doesn’t make him angry this time. This time, he knows you’re looking for reassurance. This time, he knows this isn’t a reflection of him or his love, nor an indication of some kind of moral failing for either of you. This time, he presses his lips to yours softly before pulling back and speaking quietly into the calm of your bedroom.

“I love you and I want you. All of you. Your mind.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Your body.” And then your neck. “Your heart.” Your chest. “All of it. Always.” You pull him down to kiss you this time, hoping the press of your lips convey every word they can’t form between them.

“I’m so scared you’re going to wake up and realize that I’m not enough, that we’re not enough,” you admit softly. He opens his mouth to argue, but you cup his face and continue. “I’m never going to be anything other than who I am.”

“You will always be enough, we will always be enough.”

And you believe him. It’s not a magical cure, no easy fix. His words don’t take away your worries or fears, they still creep in insidiously when you’re alone, but they help. The words are ones you will hold close to your chest, calling upon them when things get tough and allowing them to curl up and take root in your heart.

“If it’s not you, it’s not anyone, Kev. I don’t want anyone else.” He feels the same, and he tells you not only with his words, but with his body too, pressing you deeper into the mattress.

The morning is spent in bed, full of love and kisses and wandering hands and gentle reassurances. Truth be told, you probably would have spent all day in bed if you could, but the rumbling of both your stomachs has you seeking out something quick before returning to the sheets and each other.

Later, you’re curled up on the couch - Kevin in his usual spot, arm extended over the back, and you curled up so tightly with him that neither of you are quite sure where he ends and you begin. You’re half in a daze, not at all focused on what is playing on the tv, when you have the urge to kiss him. For so long you’d denied yourself the pleasure, but now you were able to do it whenever you wanted and so you do.

Perking up a little, you look behind you into the open space of your dream kitchen. There must be something written across the lines of your face, because when you turn back to him he’s got a smile on his.

“Cook with me.” You frame it as an invitation, a question of sorts, but the way you jump up and pull him with you reveals it to be nothing more than an order. He goes willingly, and if he were asked, he would admit that there wasn’t a place in heaven or hell he wouldn’t follow you to.

Soon, a playlist sounds through the kitchen and a half bottle of wine has been poured. Kevin is dutifully chopping vegetables for you while you flit about the kitchen grabbing ingredients and beginning to saute things in a pan. You’re happy, incredibly so, in a way you hadn’t been in what felt like decades. Not since the last time you felt this free in this kitchen.

Kevin can’t keep his eyes off you, which may be a bit of a health hazard considering the size and sharpness of the knife he’s holding, but he doesn’t mind and truthfully neither do you. Everything about this feels so right, so familiar. Sliding up behind you, he wraps his arms around your midriff, smiling into your shoulder as you lean back into him in return.

“I’ve missed you,” he speaks softly against your skin. And although your first reaction is to argue, to tell him you’ve been here for months, you know what he means. Because you’ve missed him just the same. For so long he’s been here but not here, close enough to feel but not to touch. You only smile, breaking free of him long enough to continue the next steps in the recipe you know by heart.

Spaghetti bolognese.

You don’t mean to keep it a secret from everyone, it just never comes up. Like, there’s no perfect time to just stand on a bar table and announce to the entire world that you’re in love with one Kevin Hayes. You don’t mean to keep it a secret, but the longer it goes unannounced, the more fun you have with it.

Keith figures it out first, for no reason other than his continued presence in both of your lives and the other spare bedroom.

Monday morning has your alarm ringing at an hour that Kevin considers offensive. He tells you so, groaning deeply and caging you in his arms and burrowing his face in your neck. Well versed in the art of escaping Kevin’s arms early in the morning, you only laugh, kissing the side of his head once and sliding out of his chokehold.The shower you take is quick and hot, and by the time you reenter the bedroom, Kevin’s replaced you with a pillow. You’d be offended if he wasn’t so damn cute, and if you hadn’t already taken a picture for future blackmail use.

“How long have you been sleeping there?” Keith’s staring at you with eyes wide open and mouth hanging ajar as he witnesses you quietly leave the master bedroom.

You only smirk, patting his cheek once. “Few weeks now, bud.” Somehow his shocked expression only deepens, and you cackle as you make your cup of coffee and Kevin’s before slipping out the door.

Travis is the next to accidentally stumble upon the new status of your relationship. It’s in the locker room after an optional morning skate. Teeks is plotting with Joel to finally enact his plan to shove the both of you in this very locker room and lose the key. Unfortunately for him, neither being quiet nor being subtle are exactly in his wheelhouse

“I really need you to stop meddling in my love life, Tiki Bar.” Kevin says, grasping Travis on the shoulder. Joel takes his cue to leave, scrambling off the bench and leaving behind his shoes which he will eventually have to come back for, tail between his legs. “Besides, no need to lock us in this room when the lock on our bedroom works just fine.”

Travis can only stare as Kevin keeps walking, booming laughter following him out of the room.

And then Ryanne finds out from G who found out from Travis. Only a few hours later, everyone knows too. It’s nice then, to slide into a cracked vinyl booth in the back of a bar after a game you’d had to work through, pressing your thigh to his and your lips too, with the cheers of his teammates and significant others as background noise.

Jimmy must hear it through the grapevine that is the NHL, worse than any small town coffee shop full of retirees with nothing better to do than trade the latest gossip floating around. He’s sweet when he calls you, although the entire conversation is undercut with the obvious tension and worry in his voice.

It subsides though, when he’s not even able to fully get the question of whether you’re happy out before you’re emphatically assuring him that you both are.

It’s killing him.

Watching you hold his teammate’s babies and laugh and smile talking to his teammate’s wives. Seeing you flit about team events and family boxes and the locker room after games. Kissing you sweetly goodbye as you go over to Karly and Teek’s to play with their son and help her with wedding planning.

It’s killing him because it should be your baby and your wedding and the last name you wear on jerseys should be hyphenated alongside your own. Kevin wouldn’t trade the last few months for anything, even if you took the long way around, even if the months and years prior were full of heartbreak. He wouldn’t trade them because as a result you wake up in his arms and cook together in your kitchen and curl your entire body around him on nights spent on the couch.

But it should be you, with the pretty little diamond ring on your finger and your wedding photos blown up on canvas. It should be you on his health insurance and with Mrs. as a moniker. It should be you, round with child or maybe holding a newborn or chasing after a toddler who just learned the word no.

It should be you, but it’s not and though it is both your faults and yet neither is truly at fault, Kevin feels it especially when G refers offhandedly to Ryanne as his wife, and Teeks gets to use the word fiancée, and all he gets to say is you.

Because you’re more than just some girlfriend or some hookup or some girl who warms his bed. You’re his past and his present and his future. You’re everything he wants and more than that everything he needs and though there’s no one word to encapsulate it all, he thinks wife is a start.

His grandmother’s ring is still in the little velvet box where it has sat since leaving your finger, safely tucked away in a drawer when he’s not pulling it out to inspect it, as if some tiny detail about the stone or the band had changed since he’d last looked. It’s a beautiful ring certainly, but it looked far better on your left hand ring finger than tucked in amongst black velvet. He remembers the look on your face when you’d choked out a ‘yes’ through your sobs, remembers the way you would stop and stare at it whenever you thought he wasn’t looking, remembers the way it glimmered and gleamed when the light hit it just right.

He almost asks you to put it back on a thousand times. When you’re cooking together in the kitchen, music softly playing and your body moving in time with the beat. After a string of away games, slipping into bed with you, whispering “it’s only me,” when you stirred.

There are a thousand times and a thousand moments but none of them feel right, none of them feel large enough or worthy enough of it. He builds it up in his head so much, so transfixed on the idea of you wearing the ring that he drives himself crazy.

And it is crazy, at least a little bit, isn’t it? If one of the boys had approached him and said they were thinking about asking the girl they’d been seeing for a few months to marry them, he would tell them to reconsider and if they wouldn’t, then to get a prenup. But you’re not just some girl, and though it’s only been a few months since you’d both allowed yourself to be honest and stepped across that imaginary line you’d drawn in the sand between you, there was an entire decade of loving you before that.

Kevin looks at you and sees the very love he feels deeply in his heart reflected back in your eyes and it doesn’t feel so crazy anymore.

Six months after getting back together he just can’t help it any longer. There was a home game tonight that you hadn’t been able to make because you needed to work late to finish a project. When he slips in the door, he finds you fast asleep on the couch, a bright orange Hayes jersey engulfing your frame and a mostly drunk glass of wine sitting on a coaster on the coffee table. He remembers how adamant you were that he used a coaster the first time he came over to your dorm, your little speech and your hands on your hips and the way he was sure he wanted to bear witness to your ranting for the rest of his life.

You don’t move while he kicks off his shoes and loses his suit jacket, nor when he carefully slips past the couch to head for the bedroom, finding the velvet box with ease. Still you sleep, even as he crouches down by your head, running a hand through your hair and kissing your forehead. No, it’s not until he’s gently whispering your name that you stir.

“Good game, baby,” you speak, voice heavy with exhaustion in a way that makes his heart clench. He smiles and thanks you, kissing you softly before letting one knee fall to the ground beneath him while he balances on the other leg. “What are you doing?”

You know, though. The look in his eye, the familiar ring box in his hand, his knee on the carpet. Sleep still has her clutches in you, but it doesn’t stop you from sitting up and covering your mouth with both hands.

When Kevin asks if you’ll put his grandmother’s ring back on you can only nod.

And when he follows up his first question with, “Will you wear the matching band?”, you stare at him in a mix of confusion and shock and a current of excitement on top of it all. “I think we’ve waited long enough, I don’t want to waste another minute.” There are a lot of words unsaid, too heavy to be spoken aloud in the quiet dark but you feel them all the same. It’s been a very long time and there’s nothing more you want in the world at this moment than to be his wife.

“Don’t you think it’s too soon? Or too fast?” You don’t speak the words aloud but you’re also asking if he really thinks you’ll be enough this time.

You don’t speak the words, but he hears them all the same, the sweet smile on his face more convincing than anything he could possibly say but he tries anyway. “I have loved you for more than a decade already, and I plan to love you the rest of my life. I’ve wanted to be your husband since you spilled that beer on me the first night we met.”

You say yes.

With very little planning and even less thought, the next morning you pledge to love this man for the rest of your life and he does too. It’s a short and sweet ceremony in front of a justice of the peace, no flash, no pomp and circumstance, but it’s perfect because the man beside you is perfect. You don’t tell a single soul, the only witness to your marriage a very excited Keith who promises to not tell anyone before you’re able to - which, of course, means that the entire team and probably a handful of guys Kevin grew up with know immediately.

“Now what?” Kev asks, eyes fixated on the sparkling diamond on your left hand ring finger alongside the dainty wedding band, the ring combination that should have been there all along.

You smile, pulling that hand from his line of sight in order to rest it against his cheek. The cool metal is a comfort to the flush on his face that accompanies his wide grin. “Now we go get lunch and you get to explain to your mom that we got married and didn’t tell anyone we were doing it.”

There’s incoherent screaming coming from his iPhone while you happily pick away at your lunch. Ordinarily you’d probably be embarrassed by the commotion, as the other patrons sitting on the patio of the restaurant try, and fail, to look disinterested in the spectacle. Kev takes it all in stride, his smile never faltering as he ‘mhmm’ and ‘yep’s his way through the conversation. Finally his grin turns a little softer as he asks, “You wanna talk to her?”

You almost choke, frantically waving your hands while you try to finish chewing but he shoves the phone to your ear.

“Hey, ma.” You’re pretty sure she bursts into tears if she hasn’t already, inundating you with a million and one questions and thoughts and concerns. You answer her slowly, hitting each point one by one, line by line. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner and I’m sorry we didn’t get to have the big wedding, but we can still have a big party to celebrate together.” That gets her going on another tangent, and you lift your eyes to meet Kevin’s smile, kicking his foot under the table with your own. “Of course we’ll have it in Boston, that’s where it all started after all.”

Years later, when you’ve got a little boy and little girl of your own, they sit in that big, beautiful kitchen of yours, while their mom and dad cook dinner as in love as they were on their wedding day, just like you always hoped they would.

#nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #kevin hayes fic #kevin hayes x reader #kevin hayes fanfiction #kevin hayes imagine #kevin hayes imagines #shelb writes

305 notes · View notes

violettelueur · 4 years ago

Text

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE FOUR || CURSE WOMB MUST DIE

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + ryomen sukuna + ijichi kiyotaka from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : swearing + violence + mention of blood + mention of poison + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 23 february

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 6.1k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : girl of steel

↳ next episode : curse womb must die II

↳ barista’s notes : i am back again with another episode of jujutsu kaisen everyone ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆ i hope you guys haven’t gotten bored with this whole series, to be honest i forgot how long they take to write since it is a whole epsiode i am trying to retell with a new character in ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ ALSO i have created a masterlist for it as well as future stories i might write in the future! are you excited? ʕ￫ᴥ￩　ʔ

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter

2.5 for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique

Destructive Curse Spell number one: Sho : 3:26-3:34

Binding Curse Spell number eighty-one: Danku : 3:03-3:07

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing

Shutting your dorm room door closed, you carefully wrapped yourself in the thin white cardigan you had brought out with you before quietly making your way outside the Jujutsu Tech dormitory wanting some form of fresh air due to your incapability to sleep for the time being.

As you began to walk around aimlessly, you quickly looked down upon your phone - nearly blinded by the brightness of the screen - to find out that it was exactly 2 am making you come to the conclusion that everyone was probably asleep and that no one would find you out for the time being.

To be honest, it wasn’t a surprise that you couldn’t sleep, it wasn’t like you never had these types of nights before. Although, they were becoming a bit more common than what you would have liked during your lifetime, especially at the age you were now where sleep was essential.

Finally making it to the track field (where you were supposed to be in the next few hours for training), you slowly crouched down to take a seat on the stone steps that lead to the tracks itself before cuddling into the warm cardigan since the light winds were slightly colder than what you have imagined.

‘It’s such a drag knowing that I have to be here, later on, to train with the second-years,’ you thought to yourself for a second before letting out a sigh of frustration, while running your hand through your hair as if it was some coping mechanism for the pending stress that was about to explode anytime soon.

“How long has it been?” you quietly uttered to yourself before looking onto the field as if there was something interesting insights or someone was going to answer your rhetorical question.

“A week? Two?” you continuously questioned yourself, before gently placing your hand on your upper arm as if you still felt the linger cursed technique you had used during the battle you had with him.

‘You possess such intellect, such skill, such power and such talent and yet you refuse to go against me with your full potential, are you mocking me?’

“Maybe,” you whispered your answer, before going back to the electronic device you had in your hand to open Spotify as you decided you needed something to fill up the silence with hint sounds of the wind, grasshoppers and passing cars that were surrounding you.

However, before you could press play on the chosen song you deemed was quiet enough to play out loud, there was a sudden presence your felt from behind causing you to raise your index finger to hit them with some sort of curse spell to warn them only for a familiar voice to call out.

“It’s just me”

Turning your body around, you found a tall male with erratic hair standing behind you with a non-expressive face before looking down at the dog that was right beside him with what some people say a happy grin on its face.

Turning back around, you shut your phone off before placing it in the pocket of your black joggers that you wore to bed, allowing the shikigami sorcerer to sit beside you with a gap while his divine dog took the opportunity to sit between the two bodies as it processed to rest it’s head on your shoulder, which you allowed since it was adorable not to deny.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked Fushiguro, as you processed to look onto the field while raising your hand to pet the dog’s head causing it to let out a happy sound before further resting itself upon your shoulder.

“Yeah..same for you?” Fushiguro then questioned, leading you to let out a hum in agreement to tell him you were in the same situation before silence took over between both you and him once again.

To be honest, the silence between you both wasn’t awkward at all, it surprisingly felt natural. Although, even if it was comfortable between you and Fushiguro, you both still have questions for each other, well rather Fushiguro had more questions for you than you had for him.

He just didn’t know where to start.

“L/N?” Fushiguro called out quietly (so quiet that some people might not be able to hear), leading you to turn your head towards his direction while his divine dog’s head covered your vision slightly. “How strong are you?” he then asked, causing you to express a confused look before turning back to the track field in front of you as if you were trying to find the right response to answer his question as if it wasn’t an easy one to reply to.

“Not that strong,” you replied in a nonchalant tone, leading Fushiguro to look at you with widened eyes as your returned response didn’t make any sense to him.

It really didn’t at all.

However, he didn’t have the strength to question your answer.

If he had listened to you back then, would your other classmate be alive with you all right now?

“Fushiguro?” you now called out causing the sorcerer to give you a hum informing you that he was listening in to what you had to ask or say.

“How long has it been since that day?”

ꕥ

The rain was currently pouring. However, it wasn’t too heavy nor was it too light but it was enough to make the mission that you, Itadori, Fushiguro and Kugisaki were assigned to be eerier than it considered to be.

“Our window verified the curse womb three hours ago,” a man, who you recalled was named Ijichi Kiyotaka, mentioned before continued with, “once ninety per cent were successfully evacuated, they made the call to seal off the centre, citizens within a 500-metre radius has been evacuated, as well”.

‘Only ninety per cent? That means either the other ten are missing in there…..or dead’

“Ijichi-san, question,” Itadori stated before raising his hand as if he was in a classroom asking a teacher a question, “what’s a ‘window’ here?”

“A window is a member of Jujutsu Tech who can see curses, they aren’t sorcerers, though,” Ijichi explained as his arms were behind his back in a professional manner.

“Oh, okay,” Itadori muttered, as he understood the explanation that was given to him.

“Let’s continue,” Ijichi quickly stated as it seemed he had more information to be given to all four of you.

“Detainee Block 2, at present, five detainees remain there with the curse womb, if this curse womb is the type that metamorphoses, we predict it will become a special-grade cursed spirit,” Ijichi announced in a serious tone causing you, Fushiguro and Kugisaki to express a stern look upon your faces.

‘Special-grade? Wouldn’t they make a special-grade sorcerer take the job instead of us? Unless….’

“Hey, so...I still don’t really understand what ‘special grade’ means,” Itadori expressed with an innocent face as he looked at the three of you leading Fushiguro and Kugisaki to give him the fed-up look, while you just shifted your eyesight at your classmate since you understood why he didn’t understand any of the terminologies that were thrown at him, your adoptive father wasn’t the best teacher when it came to non-practical work after all.

“Then allow me to explain it so even idiots can understand,” Ijichi stated as if he was calling Itadori an ‘idiot’ causing you to zone out of the quick lesson to look at the detention centre that was in front of everyone right now. From what you could sense, there was an overwhelming presence beginning to loom over from the building that the other sorcerers didn’t seem to feel causing you to look at Itadori will a worried expression since you knew he didn’t have control of the newfound cursed energy he had gained from eating Sukuna’s finger.

Looking around to make sure no one noticed you, you quietly went up to Itadori from behind before hovering your hand over the back of his neck before using your cursed energy for the spell you were trying to prepare for him in advance.

‘This should protect him for one hit if we come into a surprise attack, but there is nothing else I can do without the other’s noticing’ you thought in a frustrated mindset before silently taking a step back to where you were previous to make sure no one noticed that you had planted a protective spell on your classmate.

“That’s real bad!” Itadori shouted, causing you to zone back into the conversation that was in the process.

“Normally a jujutsu sorcerer on par with the cursed spirit would take on the mission. On a day like today, that would be Gojo-sensei,” Fushiguro explained into further detail, while Kugisaki seemed to now paint a worried expression on her face.

“I-I see,” Itadori stuttered as he looked at the erratic-haired sorcerer before looking around as he then asked, “so where is Gojo-sensei?” which made sense since none of the sorcerers in front of you had ever fought with a special-grade from what you could sense.

“Away on business,” Fushiguro answered in a serious tone, which caused Itadori to give him a confused look as he then stated, “he’s not someone who should be loafing around that school in the first place,”.

‘But that doesn’t explain why four first-years have been sent to deal with this situation...”

“Unfortunately, we’re constantly short-handed in this business, you’ll often have to undertake missions beyond your power,” Ijichi expressed as he pushed up his glasses. “The current case, however, is an abnormal one, and most urgent. Do not fight under any circumstances, if you encounter a special-grade, your options are to either run or die,” Ijichi then stated with a serious tone leading you to internally scoff at the warning he gave.

‘That’s easier said than done’

Even though you knew he cared about the safety of everyone that was preparing to go in, it was ridiculous to say to any sorcerer not to fight since once you knew once you encountered a curse, there was no way of getting out of the fight at all, you knew that from experience.

“Please just listen to your fears, do not forget that your mission here is strictly the verification and rescue of survivors,” Ijichi repeated.

“Sorry, but as we are talking those ‘survivors’ in there are most likely dead, there is only a one to five per cent chance that there are any survivors,” you commented with a straight face causing all three of your classmates to look at you with a surprised expression on what you just said, but before anyone could deny your statement.

“Excuse me! Excuse me, where’s Tadashi?!” a worried voice cried, causing everyone to look, only to find a woman waving her hand while guards tried to push her back, preventing her to come any closer to all of you.

“Is Tadashi...Is my son Tadashi all right?!” the woman asked in a panic, leading you to give her a sympathetic look before you slowly walked up to her with a calm expression on your face.

‘If someone asks if someone is okay at the beginning of the mission, take it like a way a doctor calms down a patient or how a police officer informs the public about a case, dear. Imagine it from your perspective, you would want to know if I was okay, wouldn’t you?’

‘Yeah, I would mother’

“Ma’am, we are going inside to see if there is anyone else in the building, if we find your son, we will inform you as quickly as we can, is that okay with you?” you gently asked the worried mother since you needed to calm her down in the worst-case scenario that you, your classmates and she had to prepare for.

Looking at you straight in the eye, she timidly nodded at you causing you to present her with a small smile to help calm her down further. “Please, I need you to step away for the time being since there is a possibility that someone has spread a poisonous gas throughout the centre, but I can not give you any more detail than I can offer,” you explained to her causing the mother’s expression to turned into a shocked one before dropping onto her knees as she grew numb.

“Please find my son,” she begged quietly as tears flowed down her face.

“We’ll try our best ma’am,” you answered her before turning back to your classmates as they looked at you with amazed faces since it seemed like you had done this a million times before - like a profession.

‘Let’s hope that one to five per cent change is in your favour’

“Fushiguro, Kugisaki, Gojo, we’re gonna save them!” Itadori announced in a determined tone causing everyone to turn to him with a determined expression on their faces.

“Of course we are,” Kugisaki answered.

ꕥ

All four of you were now walking towards the entrance of Eushi Detention Centre’s Detainee Block 2 after you have given your black cloth bag that was holding your katana for Ijichi to hold since there was no need to hide the weapon anymore.

“Be careful,” Ijichi said, before raising his fingers to prepare the sleeve that was needed to consume the detention centre, so the outside world didn’t see what was going on inside.

Suddenly, a dark blue aura was cast onto the middle of the sky before slowly descending on all sides like a dome covering a plate of food causing the sky to darken to Itadori’s surprise.

“It’s becoming night!” Itadori shouted as he took a full preview of what was going on, leading Fushiguro to take a glance behind him to inform his obvious classmate that it was the veil Ijichi was placing.

“There’s a residential area nearby, so the barrier conceals us from the outside world,” Fushiguro explained, leading Itadori to express his amazement while Kugisaki gave him the irritated look as well comment since it was basic sorcerer knowledge to know what a veil was.

Suddenly, you heard a loud clap that echoed around the area causing you to look in the direction on where you heard it, only to see Fushiguro’s hands be in a position that was familiar to you.

“Demon Dog!” Fushiguro said before a shower suddenly took form from his to summon the white divine dog that you knew so well from the first time you met him to appear as it howled in response. “He’ll let us know if the curse gets close,” Fushiugro informed you all as the dog looked in his master’s direction.

“Oh, I see!” Itadori said in a light tone before he made his way towards the shikigami to pet it’s snow-white while chanting ‘good boy’ to it as he then expressed his gratitude for its support. However, it seemed like the dog was interested in something else as it stood up on its back legs to make its way towards you before whining as if it wanted something from you.

Looking down at the dog that was now staring at you with its yellow eyes, you couldn’t help but rub its head leading it to relish your affection that you were giving it as it moved it’s head further into your palm as if it can get more out of you.

“I think it’s time to go to Fushiguro don’t you think?” you asked the dog in a light tone, causing it to whine for a moment before going back to its master so it was prepared for the mission that it was about to undertake.

Pushing the door open, Fushiguro and Itadori were in front while Kugisaki and you were behind as everyone prepared themselves for what they were about to go into. “Let’s go,” Fushiguro stated before taking the first step leading the dog to follow in next as well for the rest of you.

However, before you took one step closer into the building you realised something was not what it seemed. From what you can recall, according to Ichiji, the building was said to be a two-story dorm and not the one, you were standing in front of right now, there was no possible way, it was too high up.

‘It’s not a maisonette, it’s too advanced for that,’ you thought as you continued to analyse the surroundings before concluding what you had dreaded, ‘it’s an incomplete Innate Domain, meaning the curse has already fully developed!”

“Hold up!” you shouted at the three sorcerers behind you causing them to pause before turning to look at you, only to find you staring up which led them to do the same leading them to realise why you had halted their movements in the first place.

“Right now, we’re in the middle of the development of an Innate Domain! Is there a door behind me?” you asked in a panic, causing everyone to look at you, only to discover the door had disappeared.

“Th-The door’s gone!” Itadori mentioned in a surprised tone causing you to look at him with widened eyes before turning around to only discover he wasn’t lying to you at all.

‘Shit! How the hell am I going to get everyone back safely? They don’t know how to deal with a special grade from what I can tell, let alone an incomplete Innate Domain’

“How?! We just came in through here, didn’t we?!” Kugisaki mentioned in a stutter as she pointed at the direction where the door should have been while Itadori nodded at her with a few cold sweats dripping down his face.

“What do we do? Ah, what do we do about this?” Itadori and Kugisaki sang as they danced in circles, in a way trying to ease their stress and the tension that came along with the whole situation nearly causing you to giggle at the sight.

“It’ll be fine, the dog remembers the scent of the entrance,” Fushiguro interrupted as he looked annoyed at the two dancers, while the mentioned dog looked back to check on everyone.

“Oh, my~” Itadori and Kugisaki warmheartedly expressed before they started to pet the dog once their mood was lifted with them shouted how they were going to give him jerky later and how much of a ‘good boy’ it was, letting the dog once again relish in the attention that it was being present with.

“You are way too calm!” Fushiguro angrily expressed at two since the mood didn’t match the setting they were in at all.

“You really are dependable, Fushiguro!” Itadori expressed with a grin causing Fushiguro to snap out of his anger. “Thanks to you, we’ll be able to recuse people and save ourselves, too!” Itadori then commented, leading Fushiguro to look at the ground before you suddenly decided to take the first step of carrying on since you were being cautious with the three other sorcerers with you.

‘How long has it been since I faced a special-grade in a fight?’

“Let’s keep moving,” the shikigami user commanded in a stern voice since he saw you making the first way through, letting the other two know that they needed to start moving as well.

While walking, there were the eerie echoes of your footstep causing you to wonder where the actual curse was before entering what seemed to be the centre of the domain. However, you suddenly paused leading the other three to wonder why you came to a halt before looking at the sight that you were looking in the direction of.

Being the first one to react, Itadori rushed to what seemed to be someone’s body - well half of it - and maybe as the second victim since there was a full skeleton that was seemed to be curled up in an excruciating way next to the main body causing you to give your condolences to whoever the person was before observing the area around you to make sure the mention special-grade curse wasn’t near at all.

“Atrocious,” Kugisaki commented in disgust as she stared at the corpses insight.

“That’s...three people, right?” Fushiguro questioned as he quickly took note of how many more victims or survivors there could be - if there were any at this point.

Crouching down, Itadori didn’t answer his classmate’s question, as he then tugged on the detention centre’s dark blue uniform to check the person’s identification, only to realise something that he didn’t want to happen.

“Let’s take this body back,” Itadori suddenly stated, causing confusion to rise within the group since they didn’t know what caused the salmon-haired boy to comment something like that.

“Huh?” Kugissaki asked in confusion.

“It’s that woman’s son,” Itadori regretfully stated, causing you to close your eyes before letting out an internal sign of disappointment before coming to the realisation that you weren’t really surprised at the outcome.

‘Sorry, Ma’am, it seemed the one to five chance wasn’t with you for today’

“But…” Kugisaki slowly stuttered out before being interrupted by Itadori as he then explained that the victim’s face wasn’t mangled and that they still had to give the body back to the mother since it wouldn’t be hard to accept that fact without the body, yet before he could carry on with the plan he was unexpectantly coming up with, he felt someone pull him back by the hood causing him to be surprised at the sudden movement.

“We have to find and verify two more, leave that body behind,” Fushiguro once again commanded, which caused Itadori to shout at him back as he didn’t understand why the body should be left behind.

“Quit joking around! We turned around, and the way we got in here was gone! We won’t be able to come back for it later!” Itadori stated.

“I didn’t say come back for it! I said to leave it behind!” Fushiguro argued back in the same volume of tone, trying to make Itadori understand the situation that they were in and it was not possible to bring the body back at all - there was no point to him. “I have no intention of risking my own life to save someone I had no intention of saving in the first place!” Fushiguro frustratingly stated, only leading Itadori to grab his collar in return as a way to rebuke.

“No intention of saving him? What do you mean?!” Itadori asked in a perplexed tone, confused on what Fushiguro meant when it was their mission to save the remaining survivors that might be in the centre right now.

“This is a juvenile detention centre, Jujutsu sorcerers are granted access to all information about the scene beforehand,” Fushiguro declared before continuing his explanation by stating, “this Okazaki Tadashi hit a little girl on her way home from school while driving without a license, it was his second offence of driving without a license,” leading Itadori to look at his friend in vexation and surprise at the news he was receiving about the man he was going to ‘save’.

“I know you’re stuck on saving lots of people and guiding them to proper deaths, but what are you going to do when someone you saved kills someone else in the future?” Fushiguro asked with a stern tone trying to make his point of view understandable to the boy in front of him.

“Then why did you bother saving me?!” Itadori cried out, as a way to rebuke his statement due to the situation of him being the vessel of Ryomen Sukuna, only to gain nothing but silence from the shikigami user in front of him as he tightened the grip on the collar he was grabbing.

“Oi stop being such drags, I didn’t come to Jujutsu Tech to hear your reasons for being a jujutsu sorcerer, get moving!” you demanded in a menacing tone before unhooking your katana that was secured on your lower back horizontally, preparing to use the weapon to separate them.

“Cut it out! Christ, what are you two doing?! You’re both idiots” Kugisaki shouted in equal frustration with you, as she made her way towards the two boys with her fists in the air.

“Think about the time and place if you-”

However, before she could continue the angry rant, she was suddenly sucked into the floor causing you to quickly react by trying to grab her hand, only to be too late when she was fully consumed into the hole that was created.

“Kugisaki?” Itadori called out in confused, only for Fushiguro to become shocked at the new situation that had occurred before turning forwards to see the sudden and dreadful outcome of his divine dog that was supposed to detect if any curses were near leading you to look at the same direction before suddenly feeling a presence of what you should have felt earlier.

‘If those two drags didn’t distract me with their argument, we shouldn’t have to worry about our wellbeing right now!’

“Itadori! L/N! We’re running, we’ll search for Kugisaki la-” Fushiguro panic before you suddenly screamed at both of them.

“DON’T MOVE!” you screamed, once you suddenly made eye contact on the curse that was standing right in near them, causing you to grip on your katana tighter as all three of you stayed completely still while you were coming up with a plan to see if you could put a distance between the curses and your classmate.

Suddenly, you saw Itadori’s shaky hand reach over to his weapon as he unleashed it from the leather casing before violently swinging it to cut the curse in some way, only for the sudden decapitation of his hand to be the result of his attempt causing massive amounts of blood to spill like a fountain.

“Itadori?” Fushiguro's voice shook while you were in the opposite of that mood right now.

Swiftly, you slide your feet around, landing between the boys before raising your katana making sure the tip on the black wooden casing was pointing at the special-grade curse’s face.

“Destructive Curse Spell number one: Sho,” you chanted, causing your curse energy to travel from your arms to the length of your sword before a small shot of cursed energy to thrust its force against the curse’s face leading it to be violently pushed back against the concrete wall before turning towards Itadori with an angered expression, “I told you not to move and you decide to go against me!” you screamed in frustration before quickly turning back to look at the direction on where the special grade was flung in a confused but equally concentrated manner.

‘That curse spell isn’t even that strong, it’s my weakest, yet it managed to make it fly across the room, is it really a special grade by nature…..or did it eat something?’

“I can’t escape after it’s gotten this close! Hey, Sukuna! If I die, you die too, right?” Itadori determinedly asked, causing you to look at him with a startled expression.

‘Does this guy have a death warrant? Are you even listening to me?!’

“If you don’t want that, then help me out!” Itadori commanded leading you to further look at him like he was the craziest person in the world right now.

“Are you stupid?!” you screamed, only for Itadori to ignore you as Sukuna’s eye and mouth appeared on his cheek.

“Nope! Even if the parts of me inside you die, there are eighteen other fragments of my soul. Still, irritatingly enough, I don’t have control of this body, if you want to switch, go ahead and switch,” Sukuna taunted as he continued with his threats, “but once you do, I’ll kill that brat before the cursed spirit can, then I’ll go for that woman, she’s a lively one, I’ll have fun with her then I’ll go to her right there, she seemed like someone that knows how to fight,” leading you to place your weapon inches away from his eye.

“Stop talking, you’re making me lose concentration Sukuna,” you stated in a nonchalant tone before going back to find an explanation on why your cursed technique managed to give so much force to the special grade that was now starting to stand back up on its feet.

“I’m not going to let you do that!” Itadori declared in an inflamed tone, only for the King of Curses to taunt back without any hesitation.

“I bet! But if you’re too focused on me, your friends are gonna die,” Sukuna teased, causing you to look at the small eye and mouth with an annoyed look on your face.

“I said stop talking, you’re making me lose concentration,” you threateningly stated, only to suddenly realise that the special-grade was about to attack once again, leading to your cursed energy to flow from the palm of your hands to the tip of your fingers as your placed you left hand up like you were stopping someone.

“Binding Curse Spell number eighty-one: Danku!” you chanted, leading to the familiar large rectangular defensive wall to form in front of you, Itadori and Fushiguro, protecting you from cursed energy that the special-grade it was about to attack you with, but the concrete that wasn’t behind the wall didn’t seem to survive since the concrete turned into debris leaving evidence of its strength for you and Fushiguro to observe.

‘Pure cursed energy? So it doesn’t have any cursed techniques….ah what a drag…’ you concluded before turning to Fushiguro only to see him with widened eyes to that attack causing you to predict that he also thought the same thing as you.

“Fushiguro! Fushiguro! Fushiguro!” Itadori yelled out, trying to get the skikigami user’s attention before his third call caught his awareness as he turned to look at the screaming boy. “Take L/N and Kugisaki and get out of here!” Itadori demanded, causing you to look at him once again with an astonished look on your face, yet before you could grab his red collar in a way to argue his point, Itadori continued with, “I’ll keep this one bust until you three are out, as soon as you’re out, give me some kind of signal and once you do...I’ll switch with Sukuna,” to which Fushiguro screamed at his reckless plan. However, you were too focused on the curse in front of you, wondering why it was considered a special-grade then it took some sort of damage from a weak technique of yours.

As of right now, the curse seemed to be enjoying itself even when you managed to damage it and deflect its attack with two simple cursed spells. There was no point in letting your katana out of its wooden casing, it wouldn't be able to take the damage but there was the situation with Kugisaki being somewhere in the building as well, so there was a risk of taking your weapon out.

‘It’s definitely ate something, but what? There is a chance that it is Sukuna’s finger but that’s rare, besides it seemed like the fool hasn’t sensed anything from it to be his finger’

However, before you could even prepare your next attack to exorcise the curse to end the life and death situation Itadori and Fushiguro were in, you surprisingly felt someone grab your wrist before pulling you away from the battle that you had started leading you to look at the culprit to find out it was Fushiguro, who was dragging you away from the situation.

“What are you doing?!” you shouted before trying to pry your hand away from his grasp, only for him to tighten his hold in a way to not let you escape.

“We’re running, we need to find Kugisaki before giving Itadori the signal to get out of there,” Fushiguro explained in a stressed manner leading you to scream back at him on the thoughtless decision that had been made without your input.

“Are you crazy? You need to take back Itadori and let me fight that curse Fushiguro, he won’t be able to survive at all!” you yelled out in anger.

“Are you the crazy one? We don’t know what grade sorcerer you are and you want to exorcise that thing?!” Fushiguro argued back.

“So what makes Itadori capable? He doesn’t know how to control cursed energy or any techniques, TAKE ME BACK!” you panicked, only for his grip to tighten more at your comment of going back.

No one words were exchanged.

ꕥ

Within a flash, you and Fushiguro managed to grab Kugisaki before she was devoured by the curse she was fighting against while both of you were trying to find her.

At this current moment in time, you were outside the exit with Kugisaki in Ijichi’s arm, Fushiguro on the floor tired from running while you were standing behind the other divine dog that was giving Itadori the signal. However, even though you knew the signal was for Itadori to switch with Sukuna, you were conflicted on the idea leading your body to move forward towards the entrance to enter again.

However, you were stopped by the black dog using its body to push you back, once it was done with the signal it was giving to Itadori.

“Stop it!” Fushiguro stated as he stood up to put his arm in front of you to prevent you from moving forward. However, you were angry, pissed off and frustrated at this point.

“You should have listened to me, you drag!” you screamed at him before gripping the arm that was blocking your path. However, while you were looking at the erratic-haired sorcerer with pure rage in your eyes, Fushiguro was startled about the immense amount of cursed energy that was surrounding you as he was shocked that he didn’t notice it earlier when he had met you, it was alarming and intimidating to him as he didn’t even stand a chance to dominant his over you, it extended in power and strength than he had ever thought it would have.

How did you hide it so well?

ꕥ

Currently, you were at the gated entrance to the Eushi Detention Centre, where you had laid Kugisaki down at the back seats of the car before closing the door to stand in the rain with Fushiguro - much to your annoyance.

“Please explain the evacuation area to ten kilometres,” Fushiguro stated in a serious tone since he didn't know what could happen next since Itadori was still inside the building. Expanding the evacuation area was the best thing to do right now.

“What about you and Gojo?” Ijichi asked in a worried tone as he turned to look at you both through the gap on the window of his car.

“We’ll wait here for Itadori to return,” you stated in a serious tone to which Ichiji understood since you were so adamant to enter back to the building despite the many attempts Fushiguro tried to stop you.

“After I take Kugisaki-san to the hospital, I’ll return as quickly as possible,” Ijichi declared, only for Fushiguro to give a discouraged look to him before stating, “no, there wouldn’t be much point in you-”

“I need you to come back but I want you to stay at least one kilometre away from the evacuation area, at this rate if Itadori has switched, I want you to be as safe as possible but in the end, if you don’t hear from us at least an hour when you come back, go back to Jujutsu Tech immediately,” you interrupted Fushiguro by pushing your body in front of him while giving Ijichi the instructions you needed him to hear since you didn’t know the possible outcome that this was going to go to.

“If you can, please send a grade one sorcerer or higher but that won’t be necessary if I don't die,” you sternly commented, leading both Fushiguro and Ijichi to shiver at the statement you just announced.

Still shaken at what you had just said, Ijichi sent himself off before closing the window to prevent any cold raindrops from coming at him as he drove away from the area you and Fushiguro were standing in right now.

“If you don’t want to listen to me, I ain’t going to listen to you at all then Fushiguro,” you stated with a frown painted on your face before looking back at the building behind his body.

Taking your katana, you looked at the bottom of the handle to find a metal loop at the bottom with a red charm tied before it was simply slowly unwinded by you as you prepared for the worst that was about to come.

“What are you doing L/N?” Fushiguro asked in a worried tone, causing you to turn to look at him with a deadpan expression.

“Just preparing for the worst Fushiguro”

906 notes · View notes

itgirlification · 4 years ago

Text

supermodel | jjk

the last three months have been hell for you, but Jungkook seemed to be living his best life.

pairing: ex-bf!jk x thick!reader

warnings: explicit mentions of body image and insecurities, infidelity, anal sex, oral (male receive), foul language (kinda), etc.

now playing: supermodel by sza

part two part three

Exactly three months ago, your and Jungkook’s 2 years relationship officially ended. Unofficially, it ended about 5 months ago. And for about one month now, Jungkook’s been seeing someone else.

Your heart and mind told you not to do it but you couldn’t help calculating. Three months ago, you were still dating, two months later, he started dating someone else. That must mean he’s known her for a while. Did he cheat on you with her? Well, it’s not like it matters now anyway, does it?

Her name was Yuki, an undeniable Japanese beauty. You were still in college, studying music and she was a famous model who appeared in internationally known magazines. You assumed she met Jungkook during a photoshoot since he was a professional photographer who often worked for companies like Vogue and Playboy. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to her.

It wasn’t the fact that he moved on so quickly that hurt you the most. It was the fact that he knew all about your low self-esteem and how you lack confidence. Especially about your body. And he still went and dated a model, of all professions in the world. He was definitely over you.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he did it on purpose. But thankfully, you knew better, he looked too happy for that to be even considered. He forgot about you.

You’re making yourself sadder by remembering all the times he assured you you were beautiful and your body was nothing to be ashamed of. The times he let his fingertips run over the lines of your stretch marks, whispering in your ear how much he loved them and how they reminded him of Tiger stripes. The times he caressed your jiggly thighs and told you how sexy he thought they were.

Then your mind would drift back to the phone in your hand, the Instagram page of Yuki Sakurai opened, careful not to accidentally like anything and expose yourself. Not that she’d notice anyway, she had 3.7 million followers, while you had a private one with 500 followers and no posts, and she gets around 300 to 700 thousand likes on each post, depending on whether she posts random photos or pretty pictures of herself. Or newly, your ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Oh, how crazy everybody goes whenever she posts him. People love them together. You couldn’t blame them. Two attractive people? Of course, they’re gonna look great together.

Fucking great.

That the end of your relationship with Jungkook would look like this was semi-predictable from the beginning. He did admit to you that he never thought he’d date someone that looked like you when you first dated. And your heart broke a little. But he also made up for it in those two years, it was a beautiful relationship nonetheless.

While you weren’t exactly his ‘ideal’ type, he was definitely yours. You always heard from other women ‘when in a relationship, the man always has to love the woman more than she loves him. Otherwise, it won’t work.’ You never really got the saying until your breakup with Jungkook happened. It was the fact that you clearly loved Jungkook more than he loved you that lead to this.

“Oh my goodness!”, your roommate, Jane, dramatically exclaimed. “Will you stop feeling bad for yourself and do something? That’s not what hot girls do, sis.”

Jane was a lovely girl with a not so lovely temper. She always means well and you got along perfectly as soon as you met. Which was around 3 and a half years ago.

She looked over your shoulder to see what you were looking at. You obviously didn’t want her to see you snooping around your ex-boyfriend’s current girlfriend’s Instagram but it was too late.

“Seriously, yn?”, she took your phone in her hand and threw it on the bed. “Let’s go somewhere, you can’t do this to yourself anymore. I’m not letting you.”

Jane was clearly worried about you at this point. The only thing you did these last few weeks was eating, shower, cry, sleep and miss a whole bunch of classes. This wasn’t good at all.

“Where?”, your question was short.

“To the mall? Or the nail studio? Anything that’ll get you out of this fucking dormitory.”, Jane sighed, pulling the blanket off of you, making you whine a little. “C’mon, go put on some cute outfit and we’ll go.”

You felt bad since she was trying hard to make you feel better. But it didn’t really work.

You nodded, standing up from the bed, nonetheless. You picked out a cute two-piece dress, that brought back blurred memories of the time you went on a date with Jungkook, wearing the same two-piece. Bet Yuki would look cuter in this...

‘Shut your petty ass up, yn. It’s embarrassing, the way you’re stuck on a taken guy who wants nothing to do with you’

You wish you could change the way you think, even if it’s just for an hour or two. You wish you would stop imagining Jungkook judging you when he saw you naked or when you told him that you wished you could cut off some of your fat with a pair of scissors.

You were beyond ashamed of yourself. Why wasn’t it easy for you to just stay by yourself? why were you so desperately in need of Jungkook by your side to the point where you’d lock yourself in your room for a month just because he isn’t there?

You needed Jungkook. You became so attached to him in those two years, because you always saw him as a permanent, a forever. Not just a temporary, not just a distant memory. You already saw him as the father of your children, as the man you’re gonna marry.

You were so blinded by the fact that you had him, that you forgot you could lose him anytime.

“I’m done, let’s go.”, unenthusiastically, you announced to Jane, who was already waiting for you.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here!”, In contrast to your spirit, hers seemed to be all roses and daisies. “Lord knows you need it...”

__________

“Look at this cute ass skirt, girl”, Jane pointed at a chic, wine mini skirt she was holding. “You know, when I saw it back there I wanted to have it, but it’d look so much better on you”

You took a few seconds to admire Jane’s beauty. She was about 3 cm taller than you, had a great posture, and almond, dark brown eyes that suited her dark skin tone perfectly. Her body leaned more towards the slimmer side.

“Shut up! No, it would not”, you let out a small giggle. “It would look gorgeous on you, buy it.”

She smiled a little at your laughs. She was happy to see you at least a little cheerful again. “Yeah, but I think it’d look better on you. I’m entitled to my own opinion, am I not?”

You knew this debate was gonna go back and forth, because of her stubbornness. “Let’s both buy the skirt.”

You ended up doing so, added by a bunch of bags full of clothing. This may’ve turned into your new coping mechanism. Who needed therapy when you can go on a shopping spree?

Two hours were spent in boutiques and clothing stores and Jane decided she was tired, wanting to visit the local spa.

“No, seriously, these Riverdale seasons just keep on getting worse and worse. Netflix needs to step up their game ASAP”, Jane ranted, making you laugh at how serious she takes it. “It’s getting embarrassing. I’m being for real.”

The two of you were sitting in the whirlpool at the spa, relaxing your whole bodies a little.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I don’t watch these new Netflix shows anyways. Been stuck on the vampire diaries for the last 7 years”, you chuckled, knowing you hated trying new things. “Can you pass me one of those magazines?”

Jane nodded, grabbing a random one from the table next to her and handed it to you, without looking at it.

The cover of it caught your eyes immediately. How could it not, when your ex’s new girl looks absolutely dazzling on the front page of it.

‘Supermodel Yuki Sakurai talks summer fashion tips, struggle with self-love and most importantly, her hot, new boyfriend the media is going crazy over’ was the headline of the Harper’s Bazaar Magazine cover.

You felt your stomach getting sick and your breath getting heavier, but you still flipped the pages until you found the one with her interview. You began reading it, skipping the boring parts.

‘Int: so, we see you have a new boyfriend. Tell us, how did you guys meet?

Yuki: Yeah, he’s an amazing guy. We actually met about six or five months ago at one of my photoshoots, since he’s a photographer and we exchanged numbers and stuff, and then we made it official mid last month.’

About six or five months ago? You were with him back then, but her answer was too unclear to find out if he cheated or not.

“Woah, yn, you okay?”

You entirely forgot about the fact that you were with Jane, let alone somewhere other than your bed.

Before you could react, Jane snatched the magazine out of your hand.

“You really can’t escape them, huh?”, She sighs, taking you in her arm. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. In a few months, you’re gonna look back to this and think wow I really was stuck on a guy who’s scared of microwaves and cried like a bitch when Iron Man died.”

You laughed, punching her arm playfully. “You know, I actually love these things about him. Shows his sensitivity and the way he perceives things.”

Jane looked at you as if she didn’t believe you were actually saying that stuff. “Girl, you’re overanalyzing this. Let’s just throw this shit in the trash, okay?”

She put the magazine aside.

“I just don't know what I did wrong.”, You murmured. “I know we weren't the best, but we didn't even fight that much. We could’ve talked it through.”

Jane pursed her lips and cooed. “You know, relationships are complicated sometimes. The reason why he broke up, to begin with, is probably not your fault.”

“Well, what if it is? I mean what if I was too fat or too ugly for him?”, you asked. “If he wanted a skinny girl so bad, I could’ve lost weight for him, I don’t get it.”

Jane looked at you like you lost your mind entirely. “I can’t believe you just said that! Even if that was the reason, which it wasn’t, you shouldn’t make yourself suffer because of it. That’s his loss. You’re beyond gorgeous and you have an amazing body.”

“You’re just saying that.”, tears slowly started coming up in your eyes. “But the thing is Jungkook knows all about my insecurities. Why would he do that to me? I know he knows that I’m still not over him.”

You usually didn’t like crying in front of other people, but you didn’t really care at the moment, besides that was Jane. You trusted her with your life.

“Girl, men are trash, I can’t believe you’re crying over one right now, seriously.”, she wiped your tears and held your face between her hands. “You know, honestly, I’ve read so many articles about how models actually hate themselves and have like the lowest self-esteem so in conclusion, no matter how miserable you are, his new girl is even more miserable.”

You knew Jane didn’t mean it in a harmful way, but it sounded harsher than needed. “I don’t hate her, she probably doesn’t even know about me. I’m just really insecure. He upgraded from me. He’s dating a whole model now.”

The situation just felt like a deja vu of these last few weeks laying in your bed, even though you were at the spa with your friend. You were supposed to have fun, yet you didn’t feel like having any.

“Why would you feel insecure when all you’ve seen of her are Instagram posts and red carpet pictures? She’s supposed to look beautiful, it’s her job.”

To a certain extent, Jane was right, but that didn’t really help your situation, you still felt bad about yourself. You stayed silent.

“C’mon, this isn’t fun anymore. Let’s leave.”, Jane mumbled.

_______

it’s been two days since the incident at the spa and you felt a little bit better now.

Those days were spent reading the same three book series you’ve read your entire life, overthinking, hot Cheetos, Indian takeout, and Netflix. It really wasn’t as miserable as it sounded.

You were just taking a little rest before term break ends and you have to go back to the shithole college again.

Jane was using the time until college starts again, but in different ways than you were. She was planning on going to some frat party in an hour and forget about the world’ for a minute. Or till 4 in the morning, where she will most likely drunk call you and ask you for a ride back to the dorms, because the friends she went to the party with were shit-faced as well and were in no way capable of driving anywhere without the cops stopping them.

Going out partying on a Friday night was a Jane tradition. In the past, you’d sometimes go with her, but you mostly spent your time out with Jungkook doing something more fun than partying could ever be. Now you can’t do that anymore, but laying in bed is more ideal than a party for you at the moment.

“How do I look?”, Jane twirled around to show off her black cocktail dress. She looked beautiful.

“You look beautiful.”, you responded to her question. “Are you leaving now?”

“Hm”, she said, to which you nodded. “You sure you don’t wanna come with me? It’s gonna be really fun.”

You shook your head no.

“Alright”, she shrugged, making her way out of your bedroom. “But I told you, it’s gonna be fun.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “I’ll stay here, I have shit to do.”

“Yeah, right, like binge-watching the vampire diaries and taking 5-hour naps”, she said in a sarcastic tone. “Anyway, bye-bye, Vic’s already waiting for me in the car.”

Victoria was perhaps one of the most obnoxious people you know, yet she was too much of a nice person for you to talk shit about her. The voice of your intrusive thoughts couldn’t help but to, though.

“Alright, bye, take care and say hi to Vic from me.”

After Jane left, an hour went by like it was just a couple of minutes. You were starting to get real bored and decided to watch some regular tv in hopes to find something you enjoy. You ended up not finding anything fun, but you still watched it, because you didn’t have anything else to do.

A few moments later, the doorbell rang and you were suddenly worried. Either this is a serial killer or Jane forgot something.

But to your surprise, it was neither, but it was none other than

“Jungkook?”, truly, those were the only words you were able to mutter out at your shocked state. “What are you do-“

At the speed of light, you were interrupted by your ex-boyfriend pressing his lips to yours. He didn’t say a word.

You weren’t expecting him. Not knowing how you were supposed to feel at the moment, you just let it happen. You were sure your mental state couldn’t get any worse than that, no matter how this will affect you in the end.

“Is Jane home?”, for the first time in 3 months, you’re hearing his silky voice again.

Jungkook knew Jane always had some type of special hatred for him with her killing stares and her bitter comments. You didn’t notice either though.

He also knew she must hate him even more after your breakup. Or maybe she liked him more now since she was able to get rid of him without killing anyone.

“No”, your answer was short and it made a weight fall from Jungkook’s shoulders before he continued kissing you.

It wasn’t anything you haven’t done before, yet it felt like it’s been ages since it last happened. Your mind drifted to the thought of Jungkook and his model girlfriend. You were asking yourself what their sex life was like, if she was tighter than you or if she had stretch marks and scars.

Jungkook’s lips were moving south, giving your neck wet kisses, while you were wondering why he broke up with his model girlfriend. Or if he even did. You felt selfish for not caring.

Removing your clothes one by one, you were left in your underwear, while Jungkook only had his boxers on.

This body was yours. You knew it inside out. Where he liked to get touched and where he preferred not to. You knew him better than anyone else. You were sure.

You already moved to your bedroom, since Jungkook effortlessly carried you there. You were sat on his lap, facing him and your hands were in his messy hair. His hands were around your waist, he was slightly smiling into the kiss, as you started grinding on him. He loved how easy it was for him to turn you on. You were still his.

Cutting off the kiss, he looked you in the eyes, while his hand was on your cheek. “Say aah.”, he said.

You widened your mouth obediently, which was followed by him collecting as much saliva as he could in his mouth and spitting it into your mouth.

“Swallow.”, demanding, he spit on your face, his eyes become darker with every passing moment. You did as he said.

You looked at him with big eyes. He knew you loved it. You’ve always had a thing for him degrading and humiliating you during sex.

He started grinding on you almost desperately. You knew exactly what he wanted.

Getting out of his grip, you dropped to your knees and freed his hard dick from his drawers. You reached for it and started pumping it, and licking it. Your spit was leaking down his dick as you used it for lubrication. Then you started sucking on it, just the way you used to.

Jungkook’s groans and satisfied sighs were enough to make you even wetter than before. You enjoyed giving more than receiving.

Your mouth was wet and warm around him, giving him a feeling of familiarity. You lick over the tip a few times, then proceed to fully take him into your mouth.

The bulge in your throat could be seen and the way your eyes were tearing up a little wasn’t bothering you at all. You loved giving.

Jungkook started thrusting in and out of your warm, welcoming mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat multiple times.

“Fuck”, a throaty moan left Jungkook’s mouth, giving you hints that he was about to cum. And he did, releasing in your mouth before you swallowed it. “Shit, baby, that was so good.”

You felt your face heat up and a sheepish smile made its way to your face. Your throat was sore.

The two of you were on the bed again. To you, it felt like it was the times before your breakup again, when you’d purposely start an argument just for the makeup sex because Jungkook wasn’t giving you any anymore. It was like sex was the only thing to look forward to.

You felt attached to Jungkook to a point where it was dangerous. You weren’t okay when he wasn’t around. He affected every part of your life and God knew it wasn’t always a positive thing. Maybe it was the fact that he took your virginity. Maybe because he was your first boyfriend, the first guy that made you believe you were worthy of love and that someone was actually capable of loving you. One thing you knew was Jungkook had an expansive influence on your life.

While you were practically drowning in your own thoughts, Jungkook was busy taking off your underwear.

“You okay?”, Jungkook calmly asked you, looking at your riddled face.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m okay.”, you sounded distracted, Jungkook wasn’t sure about asking you what it is though. He didn’t feel like getting personal.

So he shrugged it off and started kissing you again, his dick was unsurprisingly hard again as he played with your tits. He drew lines over the stretch marks of your thighs and kissed them.

“Can I fuck your ass?”, Jungkook’s raspy, tired-sounding voice casually asked, to which you quickly nodded, knowing that Jungkook’s favorite position had always been anal. He was massaging and gripping your ass firmly.

“This is gonna hurt at first, but I promise it gets better.”, He warned calmly into your ear, while putting some lube on his dick and just went right into your ass, slowly thrusting so you don’t feel as much pain.

He was right, it did hurt a lot when he first put it in, but the pain just changed into pleasure in a matter of time and his slow-paced thrusts helped with the adjustment.

“Fuck, I missed this ass”, he practically growled into your ear, as he kept on thrusting in and out, steadily gripping your wide hips with his big, veiny hands. “It just doesn’t feel right when I’m inside her ass.”

You knew your confidence shouldn’t rely on Jungkook bringing his girlfriend down, but you couldn’t help but feel good about your body when he said that. It’s been a while since you felt even a tiny spark of confidence. You weren’t so fond of him mentioning her while he was inside of you.

Your soft moans rang through the whole room like sirens, while he watched your ass jiggle against his pelvis, thrusting in and out faster every second. He missed this.

You had always thought you were indecisive, but you knew exactly what you wanted. You just couldn’t have that, so you’d eventually have to settle for less.

Jungkook wasn’t to blame for it, you just couldn’t concede your shortcomings. The movie’s villain wasn’t always the real villain.

Your hands traveled to your pussy to make sure you’d orgasm as well, when you heard Jungkook’s breathing getting heavier and his thrusts getting gentler than before, indicating that he was gonna cum soon. You were certain he could make you cum with just anal, but you wanted to cum with him.

With furrowed eyebrows and drops of sweat dripping down his body, Jungkook looked down at your arched back. The whole scene was sticky, especially when Jungkook presses his upper body to your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and kissing the spot.

It was kinda odd, having sex with your ex-boyfriend you were crying over just a day ago. There was a certain intensity to it though. Like your long-lasting nostalgia was finally fulfilled.

You’ve realized you couldn’t imagine yourself being intimate with anybody else. Jungkook already knew your body, how it looked without the material protecting it, the strawberry skin, the slightly sagging breasts you swore you’d surgically remove once you had the chance to but didn’t. He knew where you liked being touched, he was the first one to even touch you in those places.

You were unsure what you’d do with yourself when he leaves.

Jungkook’s thrusts slowly started stopping and you too felt the familiar sensation in your stomach.

Suddenly, you two were nothing but desire, fear, and pleasure. And faster than you could process, you came together.

For minutes after your orgasm, you were just laying on the bed, thoughtless. Maybe a little regretful. Not you, but him.

You weren’t facing each other, but you could hear each other’s breathing. Your stomach was filled with something you’d describe as post-sex melancholia.

All of a sudden, Jungkook stood up from the bed, startling your resting self a little, but you decided to keep quiet, wanting to see what he was going to do.

He made his way to the door to leave what he thought was your sleeping body laying there. You couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

“Where are you going?”, your soft voice suddenly rang in his ears. “Don’t you wanna stay?”

He didn’t know how exactly to tell you. You’ve always been a gullible little girl, you were the type of girl to think fucking equals love. Little did you know that wasn’t the case at all.

“Yn.... you know I can’t”, Jungkook responded, you knew it wasn’t gonna be good when he said your name like that. “I got a girl at home and I don’t wanna mess shit up with her.”

There it was. Your suspicion was corroborated. He was still going out with the model and you were a certified home wrecker. Great.

You physically felt your heart breaking. “Bu- but why are you here then?”

You were incapable of being mad at him at the moment. It was your fault for letting him in, again. After breaking your trust and your heart.

“This was a mistake”, he declared, not looking into your eyes. “I’m sorry, yn...”

He’s moved past your room now, already at the exit of your dormitory. He was about to leave.

“You already ruined shit with her when you came here and fucked me.”, your voice was small, but your words were heard.

Without looking back, he left.

And you went back to your room, standing in the middle of it for a minute in silence before your brain fully processed what had happened and your tears started pouring.

744 notes · View notes

thebrochtuarachs · 3 years ago

Text

Something in the Rain - “A Month Apart, Part 1”

A/N: Hi everyone, thank you for your patience as I whipped out this chapter. I had the initial outline on how this chapter will go but more frequent than none, it changes a lot in the middle while I'm in the writing process. :) I love this story and I hope it just gives you the good feels while reading this. We're two years into this pandemic and the world is still crazy. I hope you're keeping safe and being kind to yourself. :) As always, your comments and suggestions are very much welcome.

A modern day meet cute instance between Jamie and Claire.

AO3 / C1: A Day In June : C2: Definitely, Maybe : C3: So We Meet Again : C4: Friday Lunch : C5: Finding Solid Ground : C6: Situations : C7: Interruptions

XXXXX

After their first date, their schedule for the following two weeks we’re packed - with Jamie settling back in the firm after his 2-week trip from London and Claire’s schedule at the hospital and preparing for her trip to Seattle.

Being a lawyer and a doctor weren’t the most flexible jobs - with patients and clients to attend to, surgeries and hearings to prepare for, plus, with both of them in administrative positions, it is additional work on top of their normal duties. But Claire and Jamie were determined to make it work, so they decided to communicate better, be extra patient and understanding, and really commit whatever available time they had.

The first week, Jamie couldn’t make lunch as he had a court hearing to prepare for and Claire couldn’t make dinner as she was on the night shift. So Jamie, one day, surprised Claire outside the hospital by picking her up, invited her to quick breakfast dates instead, and dropping her off at her house to make sure she got home safe.

The second week was a bit lighter but with Claire going to Seattle on Saturday, she had to do extra administrative work to make sure everything was set for her leave. She offered to have dinner takeaways at her office in the evenings which he happily accepted.

The night before her flight, Claire and Jamie were hanging out in her office, sitting at the sofa, admiring the Edinburgh skyline with a little wine and cheese tray.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t go out” Claire apologized.

“Don’t worry about it, Sassenach.” Jamie turned to Claire and patted her hand. “I honestly would prefer to do anything if it means I get to spend time with you - whether sitting here in your office on a Friday night or sitting in the gallery watching your surgery.”

“You’re too good to me, James” Claire quipped in a feigned dramatic voice.

“Ah, you give me too much credit, Claire. I hope you know that you make an effort too, especially these past two weeks”

“Me? It feels like you’re fitting more to my schedule than I am yours!”

“But you met me during breakfast even though you looked too knackered from yer shift.”

Claire couldn’t deny that and she could just smile with Jamie’s understanding.

“Are you all packed up for tomorrow?” Jamie asked, changing the subject.

“Yes. The weather’s mostly rainy in Seattle so I brought extra items for the wet and cold.”

“And what’s your schedule for the month?”

“Have I not sent you my itinerary? Hold up -” Claire took out her phone and quickly sent an email to Jamie. “There, I sent you my schedule but between teaching and surgery, my time’s the same as here just minus the administrative work, which I tell you not, I’m pretty excited to be free of it for the next month”

Jamie just nodded. The next month.

It’s all rather bad timing if you look at it. The first month, they’ve been rather inseparable with going to lunches almost everyday and weekends at the center. The following month, quick dates and meetings as Jamie was away at London and their crazy schedule at the hospital and the firm. And now, going into the third month since meeting, they’d be completely separated by roughly 4,485 miles.

“Did you hear what I said, Jamie?” Claire asked while waving a hand in front of Jamie’s face.

“I’m sorry, what?” Returning to the present, unaware that his mind has gone away a bit.

Claire gave him a softened look and sat closer to him. “What were you thinking?”

Jamie stayed silent but Claire’s look urged him on.

“Nah, ye’ll think me daft” Jamie said but Claire shook her head.

“Fine” Jamie stretched his arm to pull her closer and she gladly leaned on his shoulder. “I was just thinking about how I’ll not be able to see ye for a month, how much I’ll be missing ye, and how excited I am once ye return here.”

“Oh,” Claire knew the feelings were simple but it’s his words and the way he said it that touched her most.

“I told ye it’s daft.”

“It’s not daft.” Claire tried to mimic Jamie’s accent but they both just have to laugh at her attempt. Turning serious quickly, she took Jamie’s face by the hand and looked deeply into his eyes. “You know that I am going to miss you too.”

Jamie just nodded in agreement, looking at Claire so sweetly and lovingly that she couldn’t help but lean in for a kiss.

Since their first kiss after their date, they hadn’t been shy in showing affection to each other. Nonetheless, it’s all been very respectful to the boundaries to whatever stage they are in their relationship. Hand touches, hugs, pecks and kisses here and there but never really beyond that.

But with her impending departure, Claire seemed to be eager for more. Instead of completely pulling away, she kissed him again some more.

Jamie quickly picked up the signal and allowed himself to pull Claire closer and to his lap. A few minutes later, Claire felt Jamie’s tongue on her lips asking for entrance which she happily obliged. The air around them was electric.

Jamie was first to pull away before the moment got away from them. Claire sighed - not from disappointment, but by the fact of how chivalrous Jamie really is. And she doesn’t really mind it one bit. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

The following day, Jamie picked up Claire to drop her off at the airport. They thought they had time for a quick bite but traffic was so horrendous that they got to the gate just in time before boarding began.

With barely any time left, Jamie pulled Claire to a tight hug as the PA system called her flight. “Go, you’ll miss your plane”

Claire reluctantly released Jamie with a grunt. “Let’s go somewhere when I return”

“Sounds like a plan” Jamie tried to hide the longing in his voice but it was too late.

“The month will be over before you know it, okay? Message me everyday, call me every afternoon when you can” Claire encouraged him. With one last kiss, they bade each other goodbye as she started walking to her gate and Jamie was no longer in sight.

As Claire waited for take off, the silence of a constant message ping on her phone slightly unsettled her. It was then she realized the vast distance between Seattle and Edinburgh. A single tear escaped but she quickly pulled it together. She’s not even gone yet but homesickness hit her right away.

So the four-week long distance trial began.

The 8-hour time difference is not too crazy between Seattle and Edinburgh with their available times falling at the start and end of the day. They’ve been coping well with their synced calendars and communication options.

Jamie sends flowers and snacks to Seattle Grace, earning Claire points from the staff for all the treats she’s been giving away.

Claire, on her end, sends late messages to Jamie to wake up to in the morning and asks Mrs. Kim’s Korean Street Food Hub to delivery chicken wings to Jamie every so often.

They’ve also reserved some time on the weekend for extended calls with conversations falling from happenings to their week to what hairstyles and colors they’ve done in the past.

It wasn’t till late in the 3rd week that things started to shake up.

It was a random Thursday evening in rainy Seattle. Between two surgeries and one class, Claire was ready to call it a day. She was settling on her sofa, drinking her tea for a little night cap when her phone pinged. It was 9:30PM Seattle meaning it was 5:30AM Edinburgh, too early for anybody to contact her over there unless it was important.

Grabbing her phone, her notifications show it was from Geillis. It was a link to a tabloid along with a message “HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?”

With the link, she can see the preview of the title “Jamie Fraser is off the market!” Curiosity prevailed Claire and she clicked the article

On the other side of the world, Jamie, as always, promptly arrived at the firm. Just as he was to pass Mrs. Fitz, she called him out.

“Ah, lad”

“Yes, Mrs. Fitz?”

“I dinna ken yet what ye or Claire are yet but have ye spoken to her today?”

“Today? Not yet. Why?”

She motioned for him to come round the reception and take a peek at her monitor.

She showed him the same article Geillis sent Claire and as soon Jamie saw the accompanying photo, he fished out his phone and immediately contacted Claire. It was midnight in Seattle but Jamie didn’t care - he wanted to clear things before things got misinterpreted.

“Erm, hello?” a groggy Claire answered the phone on the other side of the line.

“Hi, were ye asleep?” Jamie asked as he walked the hallway to his office.

“I was but I answered already, what’s up?” she replied, her voice still muffled by sleep. She knew why he was calling though but wanted to hear it from him. “Did you just arrive at the firm?”

“Yes,” he replied, closing the door to his office for privacy. “Well, I don’t want to keep you long but an article came last night about me and well, in case ye’ll see it, it is not true.”

Jamie heard Claire sigh on the other end, “I’ve seen it” she confirmed.

“Ye’ve already seen it?” he repeated in disbelief, looking at his watch, it’s only been posted a few hours ago.

“Geillis sent it to me earlier, I think it just came out then. She’s a bit of a morning person so…”

“Claire, it isn’t true. It was all in a bad angle. The Dunsany’s have been a long-time client of ours and we had an unexpected dinner meeting yesterday. I was just escorting their daughter to her car when the paparazzi got wind of us and ran with whatever story they could think of.” Jamie quickly explained in summary.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I mean you say it’s not true and I believe you.”

“You don’t have any questions?” he asked, a little baffled.

“Not really. I mean was there more to it?”

“A bit but something we can talk about later.”

“Okay”

It was both refreshing and confusing as to why Claire seemed nonchalant about all this. On one end, she might be really understanding. On the other end, she might be harboring ill-feelings she didn’t want to discuss.

It was Jamie’s line that turned silent. Claire, guessing he might need more despite her sleepy state, obliged him. “Jamie, I won’t lie. I was surprised at first because of the photo and how the article was written with your family histories. Add to that, that I didn’t see it in the calendar and you didn’t text me about it.”

“Why didn’t you call -?”

“But” she interrupted him, “I also know you, Jamie, and I know about us. If I was really concerned, I’ll call you right away. But I’m not and we’ll be meeting later anyway, so I know we’ll talk about it eventually.” she paused to catch a breath. “Besides, you already explained it, I don’t need to know any more because I trust you, Jamie.”

“Okay” it was Jamie’s turn to give the one-word reply.

“Are we okay now?” she asked.

“Yes, as long as ye are too.” Jamie replied to which Claire mummed in agreement. “Thank ye, Claire.”

“You’re welcome. Now, I’ll go back to sleep and see you later.” With that, Claire ended the call, a small smile crept on her face knowing the relief and joy Jamie probably feels right now.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #something in the rain #sitr #mia writers #jamie fraser #claire fraser #jamie x claire #geillis duncan #mrs. fitz #geneva dunsany #sam heughan #caitriona balfe #sam x cait #samcait #sam cait

79 notes · View notes

theradicalscrivener · 2 years ago

Note

Are you okay? You haven't posted or said anything in a while, if something is happening, we hope it gets better and you feel better :D <3

I actually don't remember how long it's been since I posted. Things have been... interesting? I don't know how much I have posted here about what's been going on these past few months so I don't know how much of this will be a repeat, but I suppose I ought to mention this.

I made a comment on my Patreon when I paused it for a month after finals to rest and recover, but things continued to be super rough even after finals.

So let's see. First off, a coworker passed away super suddenly. Like I was working with her first thing in the morning, and then at around noon I get a phonecall from her husband (who I also work with) saying that she had passed. I knew she had a bad heart that was effectively a ticking time bomb, but it's still so jarring for someone to go so suddenly like that especially when they seemed so healthy mere hours before. It's a very small firm, and at that branch it was just the three of us so I worked very closely with the two of them. I don't know if I'd say we were friends, but we were semi close work acquaintances? I got along much better with her husband than her, but after her passing, he kind of went full focus into his work. I understand it was his way of coping, but I was trying to thread a needle between making him take time off and not wanting to overstep any bounds. Not to make this all about me but with the taking on the extra workload of being down a person + trying to cover for him + being pretty much the only person he spoke to during the week after it happened burned me out super hard. Not to mention I was a little rattled and had maybe a bit of an existential crisis from having someone I worked with daily suddenly drop dead.

Anyway, May was finals. She passed early June. That is what I spent pretty much all of June dealing with. I did manage to get a fic done for June and posted that to Patreon a few days ago. That will be made public this coming weekend most likely.

Speaking of which, I prolly otter announce when I update Patreon but I'm never sure where, when, or how to do it.

Oh right! I forgot that the tumblr app broke a few weeks ago and now I can't view any notes on it. The only reason I am even seeing notes/messages today is because I manually logged into my "new" desktop. My hard drive randomly died on me the other day. It was a fairly new SSD too. It was just a faulty piece of equipment. I got a new one and I spent the last few days reinstalling everything. I save all my writing to dropbox but I don't save very often. I had like 4 active projects open that I was jumping from one to the next depending on what my mood/inspiration was. So once I finally get everything reloaded on my new rig, I'll see just how much progress I lost.

#ziel talks

16 notes · View notes

buckleyblueyes · 3 years ago

Note

buddie + 28

28. Neck Kisses. Thank you so much! I'm really proud of how this turned out. Buck stress bakes and Eddie worries. (send me a kiss prompt) (send me a dialogue prompt)

It’s been almost three years since the tsunami, and for the most part, Buck has moved on. He can swim again, enjoys going to the beach (especially with Chris and Eddie), and he’s even gone to the renovated Santa Monica Pier a few times. But he’s had enough therapy to know that trauma never really goes away, not permanently anyway. So, he’s not surprised that when the anniversary approaches, the nightmares begin returning, and he tries not to let it wear on him. He talks to Dr. Copeland about it, of course, he’s not ignoring it. He just doesn’t want to make a big deal of it, doesn’t want anyone to worry about him, so he stops sleeping at the station, afraid of waking up screaming where everyone can hear.

Eddie knows, of course, because it’s impossible to hide nightmares from someone you share a bed with--and, God, isn’t that something? They’ve only been together a few months, but Buck is already halfway moved in and maybe they’re moving a little fast, but it’s only because it took them so long to get here. He loves that when he wakes up with his heart hammering in his chest, drenched in sweat, Eddie is there to hold him, to soothe him. Buck also loves that Christopher is just down the hall, that he can poke his head in and listen to his small snuffles and reassure himself that he’s there, he’s alive, he’s safe, before shuffling back to Eddie’s bed.

But as much as he wants to seek out Eddie’s comfort, as much as he relishes the feeling of being held tight and safe in his boyfriend’s arms, there’s a bigger part of him, the part of him that doesn’t let him fall asleep at the station, that is ashamed. He hates the thought of being a burden on Eddie, of keeping him from the sleep he needs, of worrying him over some silly dreams. On the nights those thoughts win, he doesn’t shuffle back to the bedroom after checking on Christopher. He heads to the kitchen instead, and bakes. He’s quiet, moving slowly so as not to cause a clatter, and stirring everything by hand instead of using a beater.

Baking has always been a source of stress relief for Buck. Ever since he was a teenager, and he tried his mother’s banana bread recipe for the first time. He likes using his hands to make something tangible that he can be proud of. The motions of measuring and stirring and whisking and pouring bring him out of his head and into his body, it makes him more aware. And at the end of it he has something delicious he can share with others in return for their affection and compliments. He can watch them smile as they bite into a cookie, soak up praise as they savor it. Even his parents had complimented his baking.

So, for the past couple of weeks, as the anniversary approached and the nightmares got worse and worse, Buck has been waking up in the middle of the night and baking. Blueberry muffins, cookies (snickerdoodles, peanut butter, and oatmeal raisin), banana bread, shortcake and cream for the last strawberries of the season...the list goes on. He brings the treats into the station, and preens as every last one disappears. He lights up when Hen claps him on the back and compliments his muffins or when Chimney double fists peanut butter cookies like a madman or when Eddie moans around a bite of a snickerdoodle and presses a kiss to his cheek in thanks.

(He’s sure Eddie knows it’s a coping mechanism, but he’s glad that Eddie hasn’t called him on it yet. He’s not ready for that conversation.)

Tonight, it’s two days from the anniversary of the tsunami. They have a shift in the morning, so when Buck jolts awake at 2 AM with Christopher’s name on his lips, he can’t bring himself to wake Eddie. He slides out of bed as quietly as he can, tiptoeing down the hall, first to Chris’s room, where he pauses for a moment, taking in the steady rise and fall of his chest, and then to the kitchen. He turns on only as many lights as he needs, leaving the kitchen somewhat dim.

He flips through one of his cookbooks, the one he stole from his mother when he moved out, looking for something to bake, eventually settling on a cake he faintly remembers from his childhood. Lazy Daisy Lemon Cake. It’s a summer cake, sweet and light and tangy from lemon zest, drizzled with a thin glaze. He preheats the oven and gets to work. It’s a simple recipe, but one with a fair amount of prep work involved. He grates and juices the lemons first, making sure he has enough for the recipe, then he sifts the dry ingredients (flour and baking powder) together. He finds his rhythm, and soon enough he’s lost in his movements, and the sensations of his nightmare (the water everywhere, salt burning his eyes, Christopher dragged away from him, under the waves, gone…) fade away.

He’s just put the cake in the oven and is starting on the glaze when hears footsteps behind him. Eddie wraps his arms around Buck’s waist, and rests his head on Buck’s shoulder. His voice is rough with sleep when he whispers in Buck’s ear. “What are you doing?”

“Baking,” Buck whispers back.

Eddie frowns. “Another nightmare?”

Buck nods. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“None of that,” Eddie shakes his head, still against Buck’s shoulder. “I would much rather you wake me up then try to deal with this on your own, okay? We’re in this together.”

Buck knows that, he does. But sometimes he doesn’t believe it. “I love you,” is all he can say in response.

Eddie presses a kiss to the base of his neck in response, then follows it with another and another, slowly making his way up Buck’s neck until he reaches his jaw. “I love you too.”

Buck hums softly, and turns around to wrap his arms around Eddie and kiss him on the lips, glaze all but forgotten.

“What are you baking?” Eddie asks, when they pull apart.

“Lemon cake.”

“How long until it comes out of the oven?”

“About half an hour.”

“Okay.” Eddie yawns. “Once it’s done, you’re coming back to bed.”

“I--” Because Buck is used to just staying up all the way until morning when he gets like this. Because it’s 3 AM now, and the cake won’t be done until nearly 4 AM, and they have to be up at 6:30 to get Christopher ready for school, and those two hours hardly seem worth it when he can have coffee and breakfast ready early instead. Besides, he doesn’t want to wake Eddie again.

Eddie, of course, seems to read his mind. He takes Buck’s hands in his and squeezes, grounding him. “You need all the sleep you can get, if you’re not going to sleep on shift. Sleep deprivation is a bad time for anyone, but especially a first responder, you know that.”

Buck sighs. “I know.”

“You don’t need to be worrying about me,” Eddie continues. “Let me worry about you, let me take care of you.”

Buck’s exhausted mind wants to throw a tantrum. He shouldn’t have to do that. He deserves someone less broken. You’re such a--

“You’re not a burden, Evan.” Eddie’s words cut right through every thought that’s racing through his mind. “You never have been, and you never will be. Not to me, and not to the rest of our family.”

Buck doesn’t bother holding back his tears. “Okay. I’ll come back to bed when this is done.”

“You better.” Eddie smiles, and his voice is lighter now, teasing. “It’s cold in there without my personal radiator.”

#buddie #buddie fic #prompt fill #my fan fiction #I hope you like it!!!#lazy daisy cake is something from my childhood #(don't google it the cake that comes up on google has coconut and is decidedly NOT the cake I remember from my childhood)

106 notes · View notes

draco-spencers-paramour · 3 years ago

Text

Love me like she loves you part 3

spencer reid x fem!reader (season 3 spencer)

warnings: again i’m sorry immediate violence, blood. READER DISCRETION. Angst. (season 5 storyline)

this gif of spencer gives me an orgasm (actually all gifs photos and videos of matthew/spencer give me orgasms)

It had been a week since you’d been kidnapped and Robert had backed off slightly as he kidnapped other women and brought them to the freezer he was keeping you in. You were barely alive but still holding on somehow. The BAU had received a new video everyday each almost worst than the last, they feared as to how much worse the videos could possibly get. Some of them were you others of the women who were kept there with you. The newest video was the worst yet.

Spencer and the team sat in the conference room with the fresh tape playing. He couldn’t watch as he heard your screams and pleas. A young woman sat next to you, the same frightened look in her eye as yours. Robert began using various different torture techniques on her until... he actually killed her. In front of you. In front of everyone who viewed the videos. You covered in her blood and your own. Until it was your turn. The tape blacked out mid-scream as robert cut into your face.

Hotch took a deep sigh ‘Okay. Garcia take a re-analysis of the victims and possible clues for location. Reid, Prentiss interview this weeks viewers Garcia’s pulled up for us.’ Spencer looked across at Emily who gave him a reassuring smile. Hotch noted Spencer’s look ‘Reid if you don’t want to work this case because of Y/N I understand. I can take you off the case right now if you’d like.’ Spencer shook his head ‘No. I want to find her Hotch. The more people working this case, the better. I need to find her.’ he stood up from his chair, not before he grimaced at JJ and walked out the conference room.

The team all looked at one another uncomfortably ‘He really does love her and he really thinks this is all my fault.’ JJ inferred. ‘Love makes people crazy. Especially when they’re in danger. It can cause them to think irrationally and blame it on others due to grief and needing closure. It’s easier for them to cope.’ Gideon explained as he sat back into his chair. Rossi rolled his eyes ‘What Gideon really means did that this is not your fault JJ and that Robert would have followed Y/N no matter what time of the day. However, yes Reid is acting irrational but also what you did was unfair.’

JJ scoffed at him ‘Are we really going over this again? I was being honest in the moment, I didn’t know it would cause this much stress.’ Derek chimed in ‘I gotta be honest JJ you knew Y/N was in love with Reid. It was a bit of a slap to the face for her you gotta admit.’ ‘Okay right I’ve had enough. I’ve apologised and said my piece and admitted it was a bad judgment now are we gonna find our friend or sit here and talk about how much of a bad one I am?’ JJ huffed. Emily stood up from her chair ‘Amen to that. Let’s go.’

Spencer sighed and put his head into his hands as he climed into his car. He drove in silence back to his apartment that night cogs in his head spinning at 1000 miles per hour. He parked up the car and sat for a split second before hitting the steering with both hands a few times. He raced up to his apartment and shut the door behind before sinking back against it and just sobbing. Same shit different day for him. Still talking to the photo of you kept on his bedside table (which he felt weird about but he couldn’t help it), still surviving on coffee and one bagel a day, still mad at JJ and still hopelessly in love with you.

He flicked thorough his photo book youd gifted him for his 23rd birthday, which was filled with photos of you and him from various other birthdays and Rossi’s dinners and Rossi’s wedding to his second wife. Emily had snapped a photo of you two on the dance floor looking exactly like a couple. His favourite photo being the day Henry was born. You held little henry in your arms looking down at him and Spencer had his arm wrapped around your waist also peering down at the small baby boy. To spencer it looked like you were a family. He knew he wanted you to have his children. Tears of fond memories and sadness began to dwell over Spencer as hugged the book to his chest ‘I love you...’ he whispered shedding more tears before passing out in a sleep on his couch.

••••

Being in and out of consciousness was exhausting you, on top of being tortured of course. You had no idea how long you’d been in that freezer for not that you cared much anymore. At this point you were convinced that being dead would be a lot better than being alive. As your eyes opened to you were met with the sight of more bodies of women. All dragged here after you were but killed before you. You had bruises cuts and wounds almost everywhere on your body and you had lost a considerable amount of weight from how little Robert was feeding you. At night you were left alone with the lights off the smell of frozen dead bodies as you shivered and sobbed in the corner wondering how much longer you had left.

Robert had left you alone for a few days as he captured other women and filmed different snuff films with them like it was a casual activity of his. Fucking sick psychopath would be the only correct term to use to describe Robert. It was at the 3rd woman he’d killed in the space of what you believed to be 7 hours, when he came back to you. ‘How’s my superstar?’ you shivered ‘You.....sh-should just kill..m-me already.’ he shook his head and smiled ‘Not yet. I will eventually don’t worry. But I like you. You’re the longest I’ve ever kept. You get me the most viewers.’ your teeth chattered ‘F-fuck you.’ he dragged you towards the chair and tied you against it and the video began rolling ‘Look everyone I’ve got your favourite.’ he cackled as he grabbed a larger that usual, knife ‘She’s been rude today so extra punishment for her.’ he stroked for hair before pressing the knife into yore abodomen ripping a strangled scream from your throat.

••••

Over the next few days the suspects found, were mostly useless and taken into custody for possession of illegal content and accessories to murder. All but one. A gray haired man by the name of Harry Girdy knew of Robert. Reid and Prentiss had taken him to the interrogation room for questioning. Emily flicked through his file and placed it onto the table ‘So Mr Girdy, how long have you known Robert Johnson, you said his name was? Ever spoken to him in person or had a phone conversation?’ Harry looked up at emily and nodded ‘I knew his father, Stephen, who worked downtown, he’s dead now, alzheimer’s got him but I used to see him in the bar and he mentioned his son Robert who dabbled in the film industry. Understatement of the year. I met Robert in person when he was delivering one of his snuff films to me one time. I mentioned his father but he seemed upset so I didn’t push it. I assumed the videos were fake just some guy trying make a few bucks from a few movies.’

‘They were all real and one of the victims is an agent of ours. And she’s in their currently being tortured.’ Reid yelled. Harry clicked his tongue ‘I remember being in love. Just like you, I’d do anything for the girl. Anyone who tired to hurt her would have to deal with me. I can see how much you love your girlfriend and I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help Doctor.’ Reid pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed ‘She’s not my girlfriend.’ ‘If you find her son... you make sure she is.’ Harry said sincerely as Reid looked towards the floor. Emily glared at Reid ‘I’m sorry for my colleagues outburst it’s been an emotional and tough week for us all. Thank you for your time you’ve been helpful. We’ll hand you over to my other colleagues so they can take a statement.’

Spencer and Emily left the interrogation roll and made their way back to the main office ‘You can’t do that Reid and you know it, consider it lucky we got the bastards name.’ spencer sighed ‘You’re right I’m sorry I just got caught up and felt like he was being useless and that this case isn’t moving any quicker.’ Garcia entered room and caught the end of Spencer’s sentence ‘And that is where you’re wrong I have a list of the victims here.’ The team gathered back into the conference room and yours and all the other women’s photos were lined up on the table. Spencer studied the photos of each face.

‘Alright so unsub is Robert Johnson and we have all our victims here, SSA Y/N Y/L/N, Sarah Denner, Aaliyah Bonale, Farrah De La Rosa...’ Gideon began to list all the victims names. ‘Stop.’ Spencer interjected and walked towards the photos for a better look. ‘What’s wrong Reid?’ Hotch furrowed his brows. ‘Their facial structure.’ Spencer enquired as he outlined their faces with his finger. Rossi squinted ‘What’s wrong with their facial structure?’ ‘It’s all the same their all the same. Robert is kidnapping victims with the same facial structure as him. Because their similar to him he feels less remorse as he sees it as a way of punishing himself. Like the women are him. Y/N is the least similar maybe that’s why he’s keeping her alive for longer.’

The whole team studied and analysed the victims features until Garcia’s laptop got a notification ‘Guys...the-there’s a-another video. I’ve tried to hack him and get around his signal but it won’t budge I haven’t experienced this disaster since my internet crime days.’ ‘Play the tape Garcia.’ Hotch said sternly. She forwarded the video onto the TV. The video contained Robert basically stabbing you in the stomach thigh a upper arm. Spencer and Garcia sat through another video in floods of tears. But it was JJ that noticed something. ‘Oh my god Garcia zoom in on Y/Ns hand.’ the video replayed and Garcia zoomed in to see you tapping the side of your chair pausing and then doing it again ‘she’s talking in morse code!’ spencer and JJ said at the same time.

Hotch looked towards them ‘Well whats she saying?’ Spencer narrowed his eyes ‘C...O.....L...D.’ Derek pursed his lips ‘Cold? What he keeping her in a fridge or something?’ Garcia kissed his cheek ‘Shit that’s probably exactly where he’s keeping her.’ Rossi looked confused ‘Okay. But think about how many shops and restaurants have freezers.’ Gideon sighed ‘A lot. It’s true however he’s most likely gonna know someone who works at or owns a place with a big freezer. Look up his family first. What did his father work as?’ Garcia brought up Roberts father’s profile and her jaw dropped. ‘No fucking way, his father was the local butcher in downtown Boise in Idaho.’ Hotch grabbed his gun ‘We got him wheels up in 30.’

hope you all enjoyed it. Y/Ns suffering will end v soon i promise! xx

taglist: @marvelfansworld @the-art-of-living-honestly @haylaansmi @spngirl05 @m3sml

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spence reid angst #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer walter reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer x y/n #spencer x you #spencer reid x you

101 notes · View notes

hopeless-ro-simptic · 4 years ago

Text

Familiar Cerulean Eyes Pt 10

Sorry for the wait everyone! this last week has been crazy! I am working on the next part and hope to have it up in the next day or so and be back on track.

For more parts click here! Part 11

Warnings: Talk about harming others, blood. That’s about it. This chapter is more just trying to get Y/N acquainted with the league.

Word Count: 2.4 k

TAGLIST: @skzero-99 @superblyspeedydragon @jparra4587 @flyingowls @emrysaaryn @imuziawi @sheedaabee @peculiarinsomniac @littlelovebug98 @plutoneu @giftofwonder @kitty-kat-ash @fukyouthink @anarchys-bnha-mess @threbony @orenjineki @toobsessedsstuff @bamf-barnes @x-a-delama-x @inanabsentia @reallyshey @godsblesstheboi @operatorsdime @drownedbytears @emilymikado @fluidfandoms @gotagan @mikasackrmann @flowersgirl02 @bohica160 @andrastesbeard @riapxq @percabethismyotp14 @celestiallustre @moon-spirit-yue @hecatve @bakugoshirp @vanillanjinn @toshiuwuu @rxinbowrena @therealwalmartjesus @callmepopcorn @xxdumb-bitchxx

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

Villains are the most compassionate people in the world apparently. Well not all of them were, but this lot was.

No one had said anything when you puked all over the floor. Not one snide comment when you curled up onto the ground dry heaving. Toga had stepped forward almost immediately, quicker than even Dabi, pulling your hair back from your face, taking a hair tie front her wrist and tying it up. Dabi hadn’t even growled at her, instead dropping to your other side rubbing your back cooing softly in your ear that it was okay. That it was over. Twice stayed quiet for once so not to say something wrong, instead taking off to go find cleaning supplies to pick up the mess. Spinner just stood there awkwardly.

Even Shigaraki stayed quiet, choosing to take off down the hallway leaving you with everyone else, Kurogiri following after.

“Come on, let’s go get you something to drink.” Dabi and Toga helped you up to your feet, guiding you down the hallway and through a door to the main bar area, sitting you down on a couch against the wall. You were shaking at this point, your ears ringing.

Toga curled up on the couch with you, petting your hair, while Spinner took a seat on the floor a couple feet away from you. You could vaguely hear Dabi tell her to watch out for staples, and a quick retort from her saying there was none but you didn’t care. How could you? Someone was dead, and their last moments were in agonizing pain because of you. Because you got upset... because they tried to hurt your alpha.

Dabi came around the bar kneeling in front of you with two drinks in his hand, water and some kind of alcohol, it smelled like whiskey.

“You’re going to want it. Trust me.”

You nodded taking the whiskey from him shooting it to the best of your ability, trading the glass for the water. Dabi got up briefly coming back again this time with multiple drinks in hand, one for each of you before he settled onto the floor in front of you, rubbing your legs soothingly like he could massage away the last however many minutes from your mind, watching you with guilt in his eyes.

You couldn’t look at him.

Twice came in and joined you, hesitating before taking a seat next to Toga who was currently picking apart your hair strands that had blood in them still, you briefly thought that you really needed to shower again.

“That was badass. You’re such a “ You could see Twice covering his mouth with his hand, struggling to keep whatever he was about to say inside. He looked absolutely tortured with himself, trying to keep things in check. Toga immediately switched from picking at your hair to pulling his head against her shoulder, petting him softly.

“He’s right… Y/N. That was pretty cool of you.” You felt sick to your stomach again and shifted away from the duo further on the couch. Why were they even here right now? To make you feel worse? In your mind you knew you would have to get over this at some point. If you wanted Dabi this would be your new normal, you would have to… hurt people. It didn’t make it any easier.

And he just sat silent, rubbing your legs like that would help. Dabi knew you were in an internal war. He knew what you were feeling right now. He wouldn’t blame you if you decided this was too much for you. That he wasn’t worth it. That you rather be free, or even go back to that fucking house. Dabi downed his drink, refusing to think about that. Knowing that deep down inside he wouldn’t let you go back to that house even if that was what you wanted with everything in your soul. He was selfish. Letting you go was one thing, letting his father have you back was another.

You sat frozen on the couch, nursing your second drink already feeling the effects of the first one. It wasn’t numbing like you had hoped. It just made you want to cry more but you refused. You needed to prove to these villains that you were fine. That you could handle this. That they didn’t have to get rid of you just because you were a cry baby. You knew just because Dabi was your alpha, that didn’t mean they would let you stick around. They had to make sure they could trust you.

“You’re allowed to be upset Y/N…” Twice was looking at you seriously now, curled up in Toga’s grasp. There was no second voice to follow. No snarky remark.

“I’m fine.”

“God, I hope not. We don’t need another crazy person.” Toga lightly smacked his head at his words, a smile pulling at her lips.

“What? I’m serious! The last thing we need right now is another psycho like Overhaul. Remember how well that went?” You looked over at the duo with confusion as Twice defended his words, Toga telling him to hush up but he just looked back to you and continued.

“If you’re fine right now, then you are in shock, and if your fine and not in shock you really should be concerned. I don’t know anyone that didn’t freak out the first time... other than Toga maybe, but she’s special. She’s crazy!” Toga rolled her eyes, covering Twice’s mouth with her hand.

“I’ve been dealing with blood since I was born.” She explained, a ghost of a blush crossing her cheeks like she was embarrassed. “You can’t really freak out about hurting people when you have a quirk like mine. The first time I really hurt someone though, like really hurt them, it was an accident. I ran away so fast no one even knew what to do. The look on everyone else’s faces, especially my friends... They started screaming at me saying I was a vampire. They weren’t very cute anymore.”

“Try killing yourself, that’s really awful.” Twice mumbled against Toga’s hand and visibly shuddered like he was remembering something, Toga immediately going back to stroking his head gently like she could sooth the thoughts. Somehow the little blonde had a calming affect on the other beta, you wondered what their relationship was.

“I don’t understand.”

“We all remember our first time, princess. We all hated it. We all probably threw up just like you did, or drank ourselves stupid, or whatever other coping mechanism we came up with. None of us wanted to do this. It just sorta happened.” Dabi finally spoke, his eyes latched onto his empty glass, like he was remembering something he didn’t want to either.

“We aren’t changing the world so we can hurt people. We are hurting people to change the world.” Spinner was speaking now. His voice surprised you, having not heard it before. You knew that he was a Stain fanatic but you didn’t know much else about him.

Kurogiri had snuck into the room. He was standing behind Dabi just a few feet away, looking almost shameful and you jumped when you noticed him, once again surprised by his sudden appearance. You wondered if mist could blush. You wondered a lot about the Beta in front of you.

“I would like to apologize and offer my condolences, Ms. Y/N. It is my fault that Compress went into that room and any of this happened to begin with. I am gravely sorry that you had to get involved like that.” He bowed low, his hands clasped in front of him.

“It’s okay...” You didn’t really know what to say, especially to that. Everyone was being so kind to you, for once you could actually see them as people, people with more than just pure hatred and murder in their hearts, people that were more than the blood they spilled.

It was a couple minutes of silently drinking before anyone said anything again.

“You know… maybe I shouldn’t say this cause of the tender moment… but Y/N, you really stink.” Twice leaned away from you like you were going to hit him, or maybe like he was trying not to breathe in your stench, pinching his nose.

“Oh thank god, someone other than me said it.” Toga immediately jumped up from the couch putting distance between the two of you while trying to hide a smile on her face of amusement as she covered her mouth and nose with her palm.

Your eyes shifted over to Dabi’s who looked like he was trying to also hide a laugh, his hands had left your legs as he leaned back using his arms to prop him up and you immediately found yourself missing the warmth and comfort of his touch.

“You do kind of reek…”

You scoffed in mock annoyance. Your own lips twitching up in weak smile. They were trying. These crazy people that barely knew you, were trying their best to make you feel better, and it was almost working.

“I guess I’ll go shower then... I need clothes though. Preferably something that fits.” You looked down at the baggy sweats that were barely hanging onto your hips and the hoodie that looked gross as all hell with everything on it, before looking back up at Dabi pointedly.

“But you look so good in mine.” You could hear the way his voice dropped into a low growl that went straight to your lower stomach. You could feel your cheeks heating up. How was he able to flip that switch in you so easily? He was just telling you that you smelled bad!

“Ew gross. If you guys fuck can I watch?” Twice was back to his antics again, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Please don’t. I sit on that couch. I have some clothes that might fit you Y/N!” Toga ran off out of the room and you weren’t sure if she just wanted to get away from the two of you or if she was actually going to look for clothes.

You stood up, looking down at Dabi, mumbling softly asking where to shower to which he responded by grabbing your hands, hoisting himself off the floor almost pulling you down in the process before dragging you out of the room behind him with barely a goodbye to the others.

“So is that a no?”

You followed Dabi back to his room, noticing the conjoined bathroom once you were inside. The whole building seemed to be set up like an old hotel, the bar being the main room, but it seemed like there was a couple other communal rooms as well. Maybe he would let you explore a little when you were done. Get to know the place that was going to be possibly your new home. It was weird to think about it like that. Would the two of you stay here or go back to his old apartment?

“I’m gonna go find Shigaraki and update him on the Shoto situation while you’re cleaning up. We need to get a plan in place before he shows up and tries to kill us all.” Dabi paused when there was a knock on the door, opening it to let Toga bounce into the room with a stack of clothes. Dabi wrinkled his nose at the scent of them, his lips almost settling into a pout when he realized you would smell like her. “I’ll be back. Please don’t go running around until I get back. We might have to work quickly to get everything set up…” He paused again looking at the clothes his alpha focusing on them. “We can go shopping later too… for your own clothes.”

You nodded, taking the clothes from the petite blonde, smiling gratefully at her before she turned and flitted out of the room, smirking at Dabi as she passed. He slammed the door behind her much to her annoyance. Stinky little brat. Dabi loved her like a little sister but man was she annoying sometimes, her scent especially.

“Okay.” You shifted from foot to foot watching Dabi as he shifted his intense hooded gaze back to yours. You could feel the energy in the room change, your omega perking back up from her sleep now that the two of you were alone, attention piqued. You thought back to the way his lips had felt against yours no too long ago. He was thinking about it too.

“We might have to lay low for a while, find a different place to hide out just the two of us until things calm down.” Just the two of you? By yourselves? Hiding away? You could smell the excitement coming off of you at just the thoughts in your head.

“Don’t look at me like that,” His voice was low, gravelly, a warning as he held the doorknob loosely to keep himself grounded. To remind himself now was not the time.

“Like what?” Did you not realize what you were doing to him when you looked at him like that? Like you were an innocent little thing waiting to be corrupted. Surely you did. He could smell you from here, across the room. It was like a little slice of heaven. He wanted to make it his.

“Like you want to be fucked.” Dabi was delighted in the way that your cheeks turned red, your lips parting to suck in a breath of air in surprise at his words, at how you didn’t even protest. He wanted to bend you over his bed right now and… no… he wanted to take his time with his little mouse. He wanted to worship you, to show you just exactly how he felt with no distractions from the world outside. Just the two of you.

In order to do that he had to take care of some things first.

“Go shower.” He growled out before retreating from the room, shutting the door with a thud, leaning against it staring up at the florescent lights on the ceiling. He could still smell you out here, though it was very faint, the scent blockers throughout the building doing their jobs.

His alpha was screaming to go back in there and have his way with you, fuck the rest of the world, but his logical side reminded him that you guys didn’t have much time left before a horde of heros showed up to come rescue their damsel in distress. There was no way Endevor was going to let his little show dog’s omega get stolen.

Dabi took one deep inhale of your scent, adjusting himself in his pants before pushing off the door and forcing himself to go find Shigaraki. They needed a plan or else this was going to be a bloodbath.

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

Want to show your support? Buy me a coffee!

#bnha omegaverse #bnha #alpha dabi #omega reader #mha #mha omegaverse #dabi is a todoroki #dabi is an ass #dabi is touya #dabi #dabi x y/n #dabi x female reader #dabi x you #dabi x reader #crispy

666 notes · View notes