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ninyard · 4 years ago

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i want to know ANYTHING and EVERYTHING about the andrew meets neil as stefan au

YES PLS OKAY

(holy shit this was supposed to be a HC ramble/snippets from the fic but uhhh….here’s a mini fic instead????? The actual fic I wrote isn’t even set back in California it’s set in PSU??? This was supposed to be short backstory!!!!!! Anyways lmk if u want the foxes stuff lol Enjoy <3)

Neil had natural looking ashy blonde with green eyes at the time, no older than 14 years old, going by the name Stefan Montgomery. Him and Mary ended up in a motel in Oakland for a couple weeks, regaining their footing after a close-call somewhere in Oregon.

Mary had hit Neil a gnarly heavy-handed blow after he forgot which name he was using in Eugene. Was it Sam? Or Dylan? Or had it been Joseph? A nice inch wide cut sat where his perfect court tattoo would sit, just on the turn of his cheekbone below the corner of his eye, bordered by a healing purple-brown bruise. Stefan was born on the border between California and oregon, stolen from a waiter at a pit stop diner, who didn’t let their coffee cups go empty as they mapped out where to go next.

He had met Andrew by chance; Stefan had been sitting on the bottom of the metal stairs that led up to the floor they were staying at. Mary was having a shower, dying her hair, becoming Georgia, perfect mother, a beautiful, average woman. He was people watching, looking at the cars pulling in and out of the car park, making up his own stories about who was who, what their names were and if they were worth stealing when they inevitably moved on. Andrew hung around the motel because just behind the building was an old, decrepit playground that’s should’ve been foreclosed years ago. Nobody ever used it, so it was a quiet place for him to be alone. He’d been walking through the parking lot after having just grabbed a chocolate bar or two from the vending machine when he stopped in front of Neil.

“What happened to your face?” It was quiet, barely a sentence, not big enough of a question to be intrusive or over-stepping.

“I’m a boxer.” That was the lie he’d been using for a few days. “I had a fight a couple days ago.”

You see, Stefan was a name Neil didn’t want to remember, like a bitter memory he forced himself to forget. It was just before Mary’s paranoia began to spiral even worse that it had already been. Stefan was keep your head down, we won’t be here long, give it a week, give it a week. Stefan was sleepless nights, watching his mother sat upright almost all night, eyes on the door, a knife under her pillow. Stefan was you don’t need friends, they’ll drag you down.

Mary didn’t know until the end that they’d been friends, Neil teaching Andrew the little boxing he knew, Andrew teaching Stefan how to keep yourself busy when you needed something to do. There was something about Andrew that made it impossible for him to stay away; he wasn’t a particularly happy kid, but the way he spoke, the way he cared about the fake life Neil had made up, the way he saw Stefan’s life as something he could never have.

“Have you ever thought about kissing a boy your age?” They’d been in Oakland for three weeks, and the two kids had made plans to meet every time Mary was occupied and Andrew was around. Neil didn’t really think to wonder why Andrew was always around. Didn’t he have a family who would miss him being gone all this time? Didn’t he have a home to go to?

“No,” Neil answered honestly. There wasn’t time for thoughts like that. Kisses weren’t signs of affection; kisses were lies, kisses were dangerous, kisses occupied a space in the mind that could be filled with run, run, run.

“Do you think it’s wrong?” Andrew had been swinging on the swing set, his feet dangling from the chipped plastic seat, the creaky chains holding him up. The question was loaded. Behind it was a conversation he’d had with his foster-mom, a slur from his foster-siblings, another hit from his foster-father.

“No,” that was an honest answer too. In his head his answer sounded like I’ve been told all kissing was wrong. But he couldn’t say that. Normal teenagers thought about kissing, and boyfriends, and girlfriends, and worried about how they looked in front of their crush. “Do you?”

“I don’t know.” His words were a sigh. Andrew trusted Stefan in this weird, out of character way. He’d never met anyone who’d been more interested to hear about his life than talk about their own. Of course, half of it was a half-truth, lies weaved into the story of Andrew.

Andrew was the first person who made Neil smile in a very long time. It was foreign hearing himself laugh, a sound reserved for fake interactions with strangers who couldn’t help but prying. Neil trusted him. His honest eyes often burning a hole in his face, on the days when Neil couldn’t bare eye contact. Andrew was a rock that Neil could feel himself becoming more and more attached to, more and more…attracted to? He didn’t know what that feeling felt like, but when he caught himself thinking about what a long hug from him would feel like, or a kiss on the forehead, the cheeks, the nose, the….

It was an impossible thought that Neil kept buried. Until Andrew had a bad day. Until Neil met him in the playground and he was sat underneath the slide, face buried in his knees that were pulled to his chest. Black hood pulled so far forward it almost covered the wet cheeks and puffy eyes he tried to hide. Stefan sat just across from him, the tips of their shoes not quite touching, but Neil rested his open palms on his shoes for Andrew to hold if he needed. He didn’t ask what was wrong.

“You’re my friend?” Andrew asked, half statement, half question. There was no hesitation in Neil’s “Of course.”

Andrew gently weeped, babbling on about wishing he could feel normal, or have a normal family. He wished he could understand himself. He wished he didn’t have to hurt so much. He’d looked up at Neil with his red eyes and wiped the tears from his face with the cuff of his sleeve. “Can I trust you?”

The statement hurt Neil far more than he thought it would. He hated that words spilled out of his mouth, his eyes stinging at the thought of saying what he really wanted to say. His mouth said “You can tell me anything,” when his brain said “I think Stefan dies in a week”.

Andrew told him about how he thought he was gay, and how embarrassed, alone, and ugly he felt to think that way. He didn’t know what normal feelings felt like. He didn’t know what it felt like to kiss someone he actually wanted to kiss. The statement hung in the air like a floating question. Did he…? Andrew had brushed away the thought almost as quickly as Neil did, but not without both their cheeks flushing pink at the unspoken idea. Neil watched as Andrew messed with the strings on his hoodie. Andrew cheered up after a little while, but when Neil realised how long he’d been gone for, he panicked. Instinctively, he pulled Andrew into a hug before running back to the motel room.

Stefan was bad memories, he’d always had to remind himself. Stefan was a mistake, a fuck-up, a vulnerability he would never, ever show again. Stefan was a slap across the face when he came back late. “Where the hell have you been?” Followed by a lie, then another, then another. Neil had only lied to his mother a handful of times in his life, but when it came to Andrew they seemed to slip out of his mouth at an alarming rate. The next time he seen Andrew, his swollen, burst lip barely hidden, Andrew had brushed his fingers across it and sarcastically asked if it was the product of another boxing match. Neil shushed him when he asked if his mother had done it. That was too personal. He was letting Andrew in too far and he was rotting Neil from the inside out. His hardened exterior fell away when he was around Andrew, and boy, was that dangerous. It shattered into a million pieces when they sat at at the top of the jungle-gym and Andrew asked so gently if he could kiss him.

No, no, no. The ghost of his mother’s hands in his hair told him to walk away. The phantom pain of a slap, and a hit, and a deafening lecture about his safety told him to stop letting Andrew in. He knew it was dangerous. He knew it, he knew it, he knew it. So why did his lips automatically curl around the word yes and his heart start pumping a hundred miles a minute? They looked each other in the eyes for a few seconds, minutes, hours, days, until they were both so close they couldn’t see each other anymore. It was only a peck, a playground kiss, but Neil’s stomach flipped. Andrew pulled away as quickly as he’d leaned in. He didn’t look at Neil for the rest of the hour they spent together, but Neil didn’t look at him. That wasn’t to say they each didn’t have to constantly fight a love-struck smile off their faces every few minutes.

Their meetings started to get less frequent after that. Andrew stopped showing up, but instead left little notes carved into the yellow plastic of the slide. ‘R u grossed out? -A’ was the first one he left after their moment’s kiss. All Neil wrote back was ‘Never’. The next time they seen each other in person they sat hidden again in the top of the jungle gym. Neil knew Mary was planning on them moving on in the following days. He couldn’t tell Andrew. Even the thought of it broke his heart. Regardless of the kiss, or kisses, they shared, Andrew had become the closest friend Neil had ever had. Neil had to remind himself more than once that everything Andrew thought he knew about Stefan was a fabrication. They spoke about sexuality again, hands brushing off each other, sometimes intertwined, sometimes resting on the others leg or arm. Andrew asked if Neil was gay, and his face fell when Neil said no, I don’t think so. It took him a moment to add on “I don’t know what I am”. They left kisses on each other’s lips that lingered for hours, for days. The more Neil let Andrew in, the harder it was for him to keep lying to his mother. She began to get suspicious of where he was going when she left him alone.

Even still, Neil didn’t hear when Mary came into the playground the last time he seen Andrew. Andrew had his head rested on his shoulder, their hands intertwined and hidden between their outstretched legs. They’d been talking about something and nothing at the same time. Neil’s stomached bottomed out when he saw her brunette hair and tiny figure step around the rusted green fence. He let go of Andrew’s hand as quickly and as subtly as he could, but he knew it was no use. He didn’t know how long she’d been standing there. Andrew looked into Stefan’s green eyes as Neil stood up, searching, scared. Neil sent him a weak smile. This was the last time he would ever look into those hazel eyes, his light eyebrows furrowed as he watched Neil begin to walk away. Neil had nodded his way, and whispered a frightened ‘See you around’ before he walked over to join Mary. She grabbed his arm and pulled him towards their motel room, already mentally packing their bags. Not before she beat him harder than she ever had before. Neil expected it. But every blow reminded him of Andrew until Andrew was no longer gentle touches and honesty and kisses. Andrew was a kick to the back of the knees as he walked through the motel room door. Andrew was a slap, and another, and another. He was a screaming, crying, angry mother, shoving whatever belongings they owned into their single duffel bag. Andrew was leaving their key at reception at midnight and starting their journey to another town. Andrew wasn’t worth it. Andrew was the swollen ankle he walked on for miles. Andrew was Mary pulling roughly at his blonde hair to dye it black in some random gas station that night. He wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth it. Neil left Stefan with Andrew in Oakland. He tried to leave the memories there too. Oh, how badly he tried.

The worst part was, Andrew didn’t know that was the last time he would ever see Stefan again. He waited every day for him to come back. Every day came and went and every day he never showed up. Neil didn’t know about that part, you see. Neil thought Andrew would forget about Stefan like a childhood crush, thrown away, moved on to the next cute boy who listened to him talk. They shared a thought, though, drilling the regret and shame into their minds. He wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth it.

(Part 2)

#forgive me if my geography is shit #u might be able to tell I’m Not American #but damn I’m sad now #love those boys #andreil #andreil au #Andrew minyard #Neil josten #tfc #aftg #txt #rambles #also sorry if the names are confusing as hell #Stefan v Neil death match #tfc fic #aftg fic

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schrijverr · 4 years ago

Text

Promises You Made to Me

Chapter 1 out 3

Aragorn falls for Boromir on their journey. When they realize they share their affection, they also know that the time is not now to act upon them. Both promise to share love once they see the quest done, a promise that long seems a broken oath. Still, the horn was heard in more lands and the Elves have not yet forsaken this world

A Boromir lives AU where they fall in love before Boromir falls at Amon Hen, but Aragorn only learns of his survival after the defeat of Sauron.

On AO3.

Ships: Aragorn x Boromir

Warnings: thinking someone died, injury

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

Chapter 1: I Can’t Promise You Fair Sky Above

It was hard not to like Boromir, Aragorn had soon found. Despite their introduction and the vast amount of unspoken issues between them, he could not help but like the Son of Gondor.

The man spoke of his home easily and with much enthusiasm, keeping the Hobbits entertained with stories from his youth and history. He walked without complaining, making sure everyone could walk with him and watching over them steadily when it was his turn.

He was always ready to lend a helping hand and Aragorn appreciated how he would help think about the next step and wasn’t afraid to speak his mind and offer insight or protest when he thought a foolishdecision was being made.

Not only that, but he had taken up the duty to teach the Hobbits to fight. Merry and Pippin took the most interest in the craft and it was a joy to see Boromir in his element when he taught them. He would grin and a proud aura would surround him.

Boromir kept the spirits high and was unmissable when muscle was needed.

It didn’t hurt that he was not bad to look at eitherand Aragorn found his eyes often wanderingto Gondor’s finest. Though he would look away when their eyes met, for he felt guilty about the reason behind his gaze, since Boromir was a Lord and not someone for Aragorn to gawk at.

However, it didn’t come as a surprise that Boromir had noticed this. He was a trained soldier and was aware of how to read people at a court. So one day, he came up to Aragorn keeping watch and sat down, saying nothing for a short moment.

“I know I did not make the best impression when we first met, but I had not realized that my behavior caused this much strife between us,” Boromir opened. “I apologize. I hope we can move past this.”

Aragorn still looked up in surprise. He had not realized that this was how Boromir would interpret his gazes and it startled him for a moment. “Yes, I see your gazes,” Boromir chuckled sadly when he saw Aragorn’s reaction. “I’m no Ranger, but I know when someone is avoiding my eyes.”

Quickly gathering his bearings, Aragorn replied: “I- It was not my intent. I do not have hard feelings about our introduction, I know I cannot ask blind following when I have not been present in Gondor. Legolas gets ahead of himself.”

“Ah.” It was clear Boromir had not expected that reply and he took a moment to rethink his strategy. “Well, then I do hope we can come to some agreement in companionship. Unless there is another reason for your avoidance of my company...” he trailed off, not in question, but in request of Aragorn to speak up if there was something else bothering him that prohibited any further friendship.

“No. No, there is not,” Aragorn said, for there was no reason to deny Boromir’s friendship, save for his heart speeding up as he felt Boromir heat beside him.

“I am glad,” Boromir smiled and Aragorn thought to himself: ‘I had not yet seen him smile at me before now. I should change that. It is a very good smile. His eyes crinkle and the feeling of kinship comes to mind when I look upon it.’ And what else could he do, but smile back?

The smile still lingered on his face as he looked back out into the wild for threats and it did not seem to leave until sleep claimed him once his watch was over. Since Boromir had watch after him, hedecided to keep him company until that time came.

As they sat next to their camp, keeping watch in the day for they only traveled through the night, they talked of such normal things that the contrast with their mission seemed absurd.

Boromir, for example, recalled the drunken tale of him and his brother, who had left a farmer very confused as of why his goats had bows upon their horns. In turn, Aragorn told Boromir of his foster-sister Arwen using him in a plot against their brothers, for they dared not to turn against the youngest of them all, who they viewed as innocent and how the he and Arwen had used that against them for manyyears.

It was a merry hour and it saddened Aragorn to see it over. But he did not deem it wise to stay seated next to Boromir any longer, since looking at him with a reason, made it harder to look away when there was none.

The other man was hypnotizing in a way Aragorn had not encountered before. He was sturdy in his frame, open in his manner, both smiling easy, while hiding a thousand burdens in his eyes that Aragorn longed to understand, but did not feel entitled to unwrap.

Looking at Boromir seemed both simple and too complex.

Aragorn yearned for a friendship with the other, a relation beyond mere traveling companions, but he did not know how to keep it a friendship, nor how he should hold himself around Boromir whilst knowing that at one point in their journey, he might become Boromir’s King.

Was it wrong for a King to look upon one of his subject with more affection than platonic? Most Kings did not marry out of love, but politics. And in dark times like these,would allowing the possibility be wise?

Questions Aragorn did not know how to answer kept him busy while they marched ever closer to the Misty Mountains over which they would have to travel.

During their journey, Boromir was frequently closer than before, choosing to walk at the rear alongside Aragorn and sitting next to him during the small leisure time they had.

And when Boromir was close, he had the tendency to talk. It was something most of the Fellowship had noticed early on, but the Son of Gondor did not like the silent marches and would often strike up conversation or talk to everyone in general, leaving it up to his audience whether they would listen or tune him out.

When Boromir talked, Aragorn often found himself amongst the ones who listened. Boromir had a nice, soothing voice that was great for telling tales of splendor, while at times being near philosophical as he pondered the goings of the world in times like these.

Listening to Boromir was both stupid and smart, for if he listened, he would not have to talk and mess things up, but listening made the affection he already harbored for the other grow.

Where he had first believed Boromir to be more muscle than brain, he was soon disproven. From his tales it became clear that Boromir had a sharp mind. He was a sound strategist and he easily weaved in the social complexities of history into the tales he told of the valor of Gondor.

It was interesting to talk to Boromir and Aragorn did so gladly. He found himself talking of his own home and the Dúnedain as well as the way of the Elves that housed him for so long along with his days as a Ranger. And while he talked, Boromir listened.

That was another factor he had not counted on when he had first met Boromir. The man had seemed steadfast in his own ways, stubborn to a fault and unwilling to listen when needed. Yet, here he was disproven once more.

Boromir would remember little details conversations later and recalledpeople that Aragorn had mentioned sparsely before. Aragorn did not know this was a skill the Steward’s Son had picked up as Captain, for men are more willing to follow you into battle when they know you care about their well being and person.

So, they both talked and both listened, until Aragorn sought out Boromir’s company of his own accord. He had not noticed he did so, until he came back from gathering edible plants and found that the seat next to Boromir had been saved for him, since it was his usual place in the camp.

It made him still for a moment, before walking on and settling down, focusing more on dinner than his company that evening.

And that night as they walked, he was amongst the ones tuning out as Boromir started his talking again. At this point he must have recited his entire military career, moved through much of Gondor’s history of the Third Age and gotten to know everyone’s life. Aragorn now knew more of the Toby Leaf’s history than he ever thought was needed for one, but Merry had been happy to explain in detailand Boromir had listened equally content.

But Aragorn did not know which tales he graced them with that night, for his mind was wondering when he had become so close with Boromir.

He did not recall when he got used to settling down next to Boromir every day, nor when listening to Boromir became more important to him than listening for threats, but he found it to be true. The affection he had for Boromir had blossomed into natural closeness.

At first he thought that the embers of a crush he had before, were nowextinguished ashe got to know the other man and form a friendship with him. Upon closer inspection of his feelings, however, he found instead that the opposite was true.

The speeding of his heart had become normal whenever Boromir was near and he felt the heat upon his cheeks with every grin send his way. His feelings had shifted, sure, but they had shifted from attraction to a deeper affection. He had become more infatuated with Boromir through their friendship.

It was a startling discovery, for while Aragorn was used to appreciating the physique of those around him, it did not often happen that he was enthralled beyond their features.

Yet here he was and he had discovered that it was not just Boromir’s strong arms or handsome face that kept him ensnared. Instead it was the crinkles around his eyes when he smiled, the gleam in his eyes when he talked, the softness when he listened and the comfort in his presence. He cherished their talks more than their practice fights.

He caught Legolas’ eyes and the Elf smiled quietly, eyes quickly flitting between Aragorn and Boromir, before turning away. It would seem others had caught on quicker to the will of his heart than he himself.

When Legolas held watch that day, Aragorn checked to see if those around them were asleep. With Boromir laid next to him, it was easy to determine his steady breaths as true.

“So there is still time for old friends, I see,” Legolas jested, mirth in his eyes when Aragorn sat down next to him. Aragorn looked away in shame, for he had not realized how much he had been ignoring the Elf.

“Do not be so dour, Aragorn,” said Legolas. “No one here blames you for being drawn to the Son of Gondor. And your oblivion has been my entertainment for the past weeks. It’s been long since a story like this has beenwritten.”

Aragorn glared at Legolas and huffed. “No story like this is being written, for it would not be just for a King to look upon his Steward like this.”

“I did not know you had accepted your destiny, my friend.”

“I- I don’t. I haven’t,” Aragorn protested. “But it is a path we might walk on, no matter our beliefs or desires and if that is to become my future, I should know better than to act like there is something owed to me that is not. I will not put him in a position where his choices are to ignore the wishes of his King or do something he does not want to.”

Legolas was quiet for a moment, mind processing Aragorns outburst. Then he smirked: “I do not think he’ll be doing anythinghe does not want to, if you were to ask him.”

“What?” Aragorn looked up in shock. He had not detected any reciprocation in the eyes of Boromir, just friendly affection that he shared with everyone of the Fellowship.

“You are blind,” Legolas sounded surprised. “For one who claimsElven decent and senses beyond normal men, you havenot seen that Boromir loves you too?”

He had not yet used the word love to describe his affection for Boromir, though the word had been echoing in his mind, but he did not think it wise to use that word, for it made what he had been attempting to avoid more real.

“I do not, nor does he,” he answered. “And we know my senses were not meant for internal factors, but threats.”

“If my Elf eyes are not mistaken, you have not been watching for many threats as of late, my friend,” Legolas had again that knowing look in his eyes and Aragorn found that he did not care much for that look upon his friend’s face.

“You do not know what you are talking about, Legolas.” It was a pitiful attempt at deflection and Aragorn knew it.

Legolas raised a pointed brow, but said no more of it, save: “We both know that is a lie, but I shall not further pressure you, for it is clear to me that you are not ready for it.”

And after that he stayed true to his word and said no more during his watch of Boromir, no matter if it was Aragorn, who opened up the topic. Instead choosing to comment on the landscape and the many nature wonders he had seen on this journey.

Aragorn did not try then, just taking the opportunity to talk to his friend, but the conversation had left much on his mind.

Did Boromir carry the same affection?

He did not think so. Still he watched Boromir carefully as they climbed the Caradhras. The man did not act differently than before, he walked with Merry and Pippin, making sure the two Hobbits did not falter. From time to time, he looked back, checking the rear like a good Captain would, smiling when his gaze met Aragorn’s.

Much to his embarrassment, he found that he smiled back without thinking whenever it happened. So, he focused on Frodo in front of him, the Ring-bearer should be his biggest priority.

Still it was hard not to let his gaze wander back every time. It was a strange thing to look to Boromir like he was a puzzle instead of his friend. He did not know which clues to look for, there were not tracks for him to read and he found himself thrust into unknown territory.

He started to wonder whether Boromir’s gaze on him was the same as the gaze he had for the Hobbits, a glance to ensure they were okay. Or if it were a gaze for Aragorn alone, one of special weight, with deeper meaning.

Aragorn could not decipher it. After all he had seen in his life so far, this was the mystery that stumped him. No matter what Legolas said, he could not see in Boromir’s eyes what had seemed obvious to the Elf.

It was a frustration, he did not know how to deal with.

Much to his chagrin, or maybe not (he did not know how he felt about it), Boromir noticed. It was even more frustrating that that was the only part he was able to pick up on in regards of Boromir, the fact that the man noticed he was watching him.

He loathed a confrontation that might come of it, so he kept close to others of the Fellowship, hoping that being with another person would discourage conversation about the topic.

Luckily, despite the misfortune, the topic was soon of the least import in their mind, for the evil will of the mountain had turned against them. Snow came down heavily and soon they had to cease their ascent and wait until they could turn back.

Boromir kept Merry and Pippin close, pulling his cloak around the three of them as they huddled close to the fire. Aragorn did the same with Frodo and Sam. Boromir had not lied when he’d called outthat this would be the death of the Hobbits.

If they made it through, it would be a miracle. This was a truth that was heavily felt throughout the entire Fellowship and it was not the moment to talk about trivial things as a few extra gazes. So instead Boromir tried to keep up the Hobbits’ spirits by telling them of the snow men he and his brother had build in the past and the epic snow battles they held.

As was custom, Aragorn couldn't help but listen, smile stretching over his face as the image of a young Boromir, already thinking himself a great Captain, leadinga charge in the snow came to his mind.

Soon the Hobbits’ slept, but the two men could not rest, for they feared that if they did not keep watch, their fickle lives would slip through their fingers.

So they sat in the cold of the mountain, counting the hours until the snow let up enough to turn back, a tactical retreat as Boromir called it. He also spoke again of going through the Gap of Rohan and again Aragorn had to refuse.

“The Gap is too dangerous a road to take now, Boromir,” he said.

“And this is not dangerous? Was it not folly to try this mountain? We are snowed under and our Ring-bearer might not make it through. Was this not a mistake?” Boromir countered. “And what other road can we take?”

Aragorn understood Boromir’s frustrations. From a tactical standpoint it would seem wise to seek out allies, for their road was already full of perils and a place to replenish strength would be a good place in the eye of any captain.

But they did not know how far the hand of Saruman had reached in those lands and they could not risk exposing more hearts to the clutches of the Ring. It would be unwise to think they would be safe in those lands.

Now just to make Boromir see that.

“Our road is dangerous, yes,” Aragorn said. “And this was a risk we should not have taken, but the Gap of Rohan is a risk we cannot take also. Saruman has betrayed us and it is not worth it to test how well he protects his borders.”

“I do not hear you offer another road. We also cannot risk staying on this side of the Misty Mountains. We have to cross.”

Aragorn had no answer to that, but he did not have to, for Gimli answered: “There is another road that we can take. We can go through the Mines of Moria.”

Both looked up in surprise. They had not realized anyone was listening to their conversation and having the private moment broken up startled them. So they said nothing as Gandalf replied: “I have told you before, Master Dwarf, that I hope to avoid that passage, but it will be up to the Ring-bearer to decide.” And both stayed silent after those words.

The next morning Frodo decided their fate and Boromir and Aragorn busied themselves with clearing a path back through the snow.

Neither said a word to the other, both too exhausted by their labor and unwilling to talk. Though, much to his dismay, Aragorn found himself getting distracted by Boromir doing his part and would sometimes have to be snapped back to work when Boromir looked his way.

Still, they made it off the Caradhras and safely down to the entrance Gandalf did not agree with, which made Aragorn uneasy, though he tried not to show it.

His unease was validated by the Watcher, lurking in the water. Yet, he was glad, for it was Boromir at his side when he charged and he knew Boromir would not falter in the face of this danger and have his back.

And in the darkness of the Mines, it was Boromir once more that eased his mind. He was there with him as they walked through thepitch black and while Gandalf had urged them to be quiet, it was the familiar steady footfalls of Boromir that kept Aragorn focused on the road ahead.

They had not spoken again since the Caradhras peak, but despite Aragorn’s attempts to avoid any lone conversation, it was during his watch that Boromir came to him once more. He was aware that Boromir used strategy of trapping him while on watch and he couldn't help but smile at the tactic solution Boromir had for such a simple thing.

“First you have been looking at me, then you have been avoiding me. I do not know what I have done to earn your suspicions, but any ill willed accusations you have of me, say out loud, for I am not welcoming of this backhanded wariness.”

Again, it would seem, Boromir had misinterpreted his gazes and again Aragorn found himself having to choose between Boromir’s hurt or opening a bit of his heart. It was an easy choice to make.

“I do not distrust you, Boromir. You are a dependableally and I am grateful for your presence.”

“Then why do you avoid me? Why do you first stare only to avert your gaze a moment later? You smile at me only to fight me then evade me after. What am I to think of that?”

Aragorn was glad for the darkness, for he did not think he could have lied, if he had seen Boromir’s gaze restheavily on him. And he did not think he could have been honest, when looking into those piercing eyes.

“It is not easy, Boromir. I might become a King one day, but I do not wish for that to be my fate, for my blood is that of a weak man, who gave in to corruption. Yet it seems that I am the one of my bloodline that is to reclaim the throne. It is difficult for me to know how to act around you and getting a glimpse of who my people are, is confusing at times.”

Boromir was quiet, the words churning in his head. The he hesitantly said: “Are you judging our people based of me? Am I an assessment to decide if you’ll go through with you destiny? Because I care not for being a pawn, when you have done nothing to protect Gondor and her beauty.”

This was not how Aragorn had envisioned thisconfrontation to go. His mind scrambled for something to say, so that he would not lose the companionship he had with Boromir. In that moment he cursed his cowardliness that had made him lie and not tell Boromir the truth.

“No, Boromir. No, that was not my intent with my words. I- Let me think how to explain,” he begged. “I hold you in high regard, but I know you do not wish to see me on the throne of Gondor. If more think like you, then I do not see why it is my destiny to take a throne no one wants me to have. I know not what you think of me nor how I am to act around you and it seems my attempts to try and figure it out have not been as subtle as I had hoped,” he finished helplessly.

Again Boromir was quiet and Aragorn braced himself for whatever reaction he would get from the Captain. Then, softly at first, then a bit chocked as Boromir tried to quiet himself, he started to laugh.

Relief washed over Aragorn at the first sounds of the joyful giggles, though confusion was on his mind for he knew not what humor Boromir found in his explanation.

“I- I apologize,” he finally got control of himself. “There is no humor in your attempts to try and better understand your position in the world. I merely find amusement in how we manage to misinterpret one another yet again. And the fact that a skilled Ranger such as yourself has difficulty with the subtlety of signs, you would think came normally.”

The latter part was obviously a jest and Aragorn found himself flushing at the teasing, once again grateful for the darkness that cloaked him.

He chuckled as well and said: “It would seem so. The tracks of people’s faces are quite different than those of animals in the ground.” Then he got serious once more. “I do not know, if I’ll fare well in a court with my skills.”

“I think you’ll fare as well as any man,” Boromir said. “Maybe even better. If you truly want to know my thoughts, then I think you have much to learn, or maybe much to show you already can do, before you are ready.”

“Aye?” While it had not been his primary reason, now that Boromir was offering, he was curious for any input to the other issues that had been plaguing his mind.

“It is clear that you are a great warrior, though I have not yet seen you in a proper battle, nor with men under your command. I have not seen you negotiate, though I have seen at the Counsel that you are willing to listen to those with expertise. I know not how you will be with the people of Gondor, nor that you know of her customs, but you seem to listen to my tales, so there must be a willingness to learn,” said Boromir. “For now, you are too much on an unknown, who has not been there for Gondor in her darkest days. I cannot judge you wholly, but you have earned my respect and I am also grateful for your presence.”

Aragorn thought that a just assessment. He had told Boromir that he did not expect blind following when he had done nothing to earn it and it would be fair to say that Boromir did not need to see him as King until he had proven himself worthy of the title.

“Thank you for telling me, I will try my best to get ready for the burdens that come with a title I might one day carry,” he said. “It is good to have you here, Son of Gondor.”

He could not see Boromir smile, but the bump of their shoulders was friendly and it was audible in his voice when he spoke: “You’re as much a Son of Gondor as I am, Aragorn, but I still welcome your efforts. I will not gift my City lightly.”

“Will you tell me more of her people?” Aragorn asked. He was not sure if the question came from genuine interest or because he wanted to please Boromir and liked listening to his stories.

Still the gesture was appreciated. “I will, but only if you promise to tell me more about yourself. I am quite curious about the Ranger of the North that dwelt in Elven courts.”

And to that, Aragorn agreed. There in the darkness of the Mines of Moria, with no other indication of the other beside light touches and the warmth that the other radiated, they talked softly.

Boromir told him of the markets, the people of the lands, the Lords in their mansions and the soldiers when in their barracks. In every word he spoke, Aragorn could hear the fierce love Boromir held for his people. He heard how Boromir was not just a prince in a castle, but a man of the people, who loved him dearly for that. He got swept up in Boromir’s tales and a part of him wanted to see the City as Boromir described it, instead of the one he had seen long ago.

Aragorn supplemented Boromir’s stories with tales of his own. Small stories of the people of Bree and his fellow kinsmen, who protected the North. It was easy to talk to Boromir as he had long since discovered. Boromir was approachable and likable.

In fact, it was hard to keep much from him. It was as if he subconsciously interrogated you, easing your mind while asking probing questions. And Aragorn found himself wanting to tell Boromir the less than proper thoughts that had been on his mind.

“Boromir, I-” He did not finished the sentence, unsure of what to say. ‘Boromir, I actually have been in love with you since Rivendell? I thought you were merely attractive at first, but you’re also kind and I cannot help but fall for you? I’m afraid to become King, because then it would be more stupid for me to love you?’

It seemed he had been quiet for too long, for Boromir inquired: “Aragorn?” with concern tinting his voice.

“Oh, uhm, well-” he started out once more, mind torn between telling Boromir it was nothing or confessing. He never got to choose, because the sound of a stone falling into the well came from behind them and soon the armies of Moria were upon them.

They fought, they won, they ran, they lost.

Gandalf fell and for a while grief and getting further was all that Aragorn could think off. Boromir was on his radar, but more as someone to keep everyone going and watch the rear as Aragorn now had to lead.

It was much later, in Lothlórien that they even considered talking normally again.

“Take some rest. These borders are well protected.” Aragorn did not like Boromir’s posture, normally so proud and tall, now miserable. He wanted to ask what was plaguing his mind, but he did not dare for it was not his place.

“I will find no rest here,” said Boromir, stubborn set of jaw, yet anxious in his speech. “I heard her voice inside my head. She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor. She said to me ‘even now there is hope left.’ But I cannot see it.”

Aragorn’s heart clenched for the utter hopelessness that was in Boromir’s voice and he wondered what had happened that had made Boromir so distrustful in the hope of others.

“It is long since we had any hope. My father is a noble man, but his rule is failing and our people loose faith.” It was clear Boromir was partially talking to himself and needed someone to listen to him more than someone to talk with, “He looks to me to make things right and- and I would do it. I would see the glory of Gondor restored.”

The burden that Boromir carried was clear, though he seemed to cover it up by want. As if he was proud for the weight on his shoulder, not willing to acknowledge that it was too much and Aragorn did not know how to ease it.

Boromir took a breath. “Have you ever seen it, Aragorn? The White Tower of Ecthelion, glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver, its banners caught high in the morning breeze. Have you ever been called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets?”

“I have seen the White City. Long ago.” Aragorn sensed that Boromir needed a bit of familiarity, someone, who could understand his home. While Aragorn was not wholly that person, he longed to be it, so he tried.

“One day, our paths will lead us there and the tower guard shall take up the call: The Lords of Gondor have returned.” There was again that glimmer in Boromir’s eyes when he spoke of his home and Aragorn’s heart gave a fond beat, wanting to keep that look there. “One day we will,” he agreed, “but it might not be for many months that we may do so.”

Boromir looked desolate again. “No, it might not be.”

“Hold your head high, Lord Steward. Our road may not lead to Minas Tirith, yet we do serve her and her protection,” he said. “You’ll see your home in due time.”

“Aye, you are right, Aragorn. Still, my heart tells me that I will not see my home as it is now ever again and my fears would have me believe that the next time I see it, it will be in ruin,” Boromir confessed. “There is not much else to think now that our wisest member has fallen. What chance is there to succeed now?”

While he had not dared to ask what was plaguing Boromir’s mind, the man had offered up the answers himself. Now Aragorn was left with a raw soul that he could not soothe. He could only offer platitudes. “We will try our best to do what we set out to do,” he replied, knowing it was nothing.

“That is your answer? We’ll walk into our death, for there is no other road you’ll consider?” Boromir asked, bitter anger dripping from his tongue. “What more do we have to loose before you realize this is folly?”

On a rational level he could understand that this anger came from the grief of losing Gandalf, but his mind was not ready for the rational and he snapped back: “I am not a punching bag for your grief, Boromir, son of Denethor. I know your opinionsand just because you are hurting over the loss of Gandalf, does not mean that I am not. I miss him, he was my friend. But he is gone now and I will see his will through to the end, no matter how much I love yo-”

He cut himself off, eyes becoming big as he had realized the revelation that had plunged from his lips in his moment of upset. He had never meant to tell Boromir. He had decided so when the darkness claimed their leader. There was too much to loose and he could not risk getting more attached. It was only grief fueled anger that made him confess.

“…Aragorn.” Boromir had equally wide eyes as he reached out to him, but his fingers never touched the arm that was quickly retreated, for Aragorn fled.

Behind him Boromir called out again, but his attempts to follow were made in vain, since Aragorn was more familiar in Elven lands and his longer legs with long strides carried him away. He could not believe how foolish he had been, nor how he would face Boromir or the rest of the Fellowship again.

Swiftly he walked through strange, yet comforting woods, until a small alcove hid him from prying eyes that would notjudge his tears to be from something other than grief.

Today he had made another mistake to go upon his list of regrets. Boromir did not love him, he was still on trial to become a King, love would not be considered by Gondor’s favourite Son. It was but a wishful dream in his mind and now he would have to endure the rest of this quest, with painful distance and obvious rejection.

It hurt more than he had expected, even if he had prepared himself for loving in silence. Not knowing if it could ever be, was less hurtful than knowing that even if everything had been different, it still would not come to pass.

He curled up into himself, reminiscent of hiding in the halls of Rivendell when he had been upset as a boy.

Of course, in Rivendell Arwen or Elrond or even Elladan or Elrohir would come find him and cheer him up, but there was no one to cheer him up here. He was all alone once more and the crushing loneliness had never felt more prominent.

He had not wanted to tell Boromir, for he feared he’d get too attached that it would cloud his judgment. However, a part of him had known it was too late and he was already attached to the smile of Gondor’s finest. Now, he just had to bear the fact that the smile had never been for him at all.

Why had he let his emotions get the better of him? He should know better as Isildur’s heir, he should have learned that desiring something did not mean he got to keep it. Was he not meant to learn from the mistakes of his forebears?

What if this ruined the quest? What if his mouth got them all in trouble and the rift between him and Boromir would never truly heal? What if Boromir would not have his back anymore, now that he knew what was in Aragorn’s heart?

Aragorn let himself linger in the halls of doubt that were inside his mind, never realizing that he had never confirmed his rejection before he fled.

So it came to be that familiar footsteps broke Aragorn out of his exile of self-pity when it was already far too late to turn back. He still attempted to do so, but before he could flee, a heavy hand stopped him in his tracks. “Please stay for a moment, Aragorn.”

And Aragorn stayed, for he had not yet mastered the art of saying no to Boromir on the little things regarding himself.

He sat Aragorn back down onto his seat and took the one next to it. Boromir was quiet for one antagonizing moment, before in an unsure voice he spoke: “I do not know if it was but a trick you are playing on me, but your reaction to your own words seemed genuine enough that I am inclined to believe them to be true. Would that be correct, Aragorn?”

Boromir stayed quiet and it became clear to Aragorn that he was indeed waiting for an answer. After a moment’s hesitation, Aragorn softly confessed: “Aye.”

“Then why did you run?” Boromir asked.

Aragorn snapped his head his way and fixed Boromir with a glare. “Do you really have to ask?”

“Aye, I want to understand, Aragorn.” Why did he have to sound so earnest?

“Because, I might become your King one day, Boromir. Because you would have to choose whether you shall obey me or defy me, while you know not whether you shall accept me as a King at all. I cannot expect my feelings to be reproached when you still need to judge my worth. Not to mention the dangers of the road. I cannot love you only to loose you, Boromir.”

Once he had started speaking, he found it hard to stop and Boromir listened attentively as was his custom. For once Aragorn did not know whether he was grateful for the quality or if he wished Boromir would shut out the too honest words.

When all the words that had been bottled up inside him had deserted him, he breathed heavily and awaited Boromir’s response.

“You are a fool, Aragorn.” At this Aragorn winced. “You are a fool to think that I would judge my King by the same standard as my lovers. You have earned my respect long ago, my affections maybe earlier. And I am not of the kind that will do something against their will. As I offer myself to you, know that I mean it wholly.”

Aragorn looked up in shock and Boromir chuckled at his face. “Yes, Aragorn. I never indented to act upon it, but it is hard not to fall for your charm. The tales of your exploits in Lord Elrond’s Halls make me smile fondly and your tracking skills make me awe. You also are closer to being my King than you believe, I just wish to see Gondor in good hands. I hope you can forgive me for that.”

“Of course.” It was easier to react to the part least concerned with his heart while his mind spun to incorporate this new information. “I- I can’t- I can’t loose you, Boromir,” he repeated.

“I know, Aragorn. I know,” Boromir said. “It would kill me to see you gone as welland I know not how to proceed from here. I would have you as mine, if the time was so not dark and the hour not so pressing.”

He leaned his shoulder against Aragorn’s and Aragorn rested his head upon it, his hand clasping Boromir’s. If he could be granted a wish, he would have wished to be in that moment forever, his body warm against Boromir’s as he thought. Secure that in the quiet, Boromir loved him.

Then he slowly moved to loosen the clasp of his necklace, before gently gifting it to Boromir’s neck, fastening the clasp with tenderness. “This was given to me by Arwen,” he explained. “It is so that I would not forget the Elven Halls that were my home.”

“Aragorn, I cannot take this,” protested Boromir.

“It is mine to give to whom I will, like my heart. And Igive this to you as a promise,” Aragorn pressed on. “I promise that I will try to see this quest through alive and keep you alive through it also. I swear by this that once our land is safe, we can try to see what can happen between us in times of peace.”

There were tears pricking in Boromir’s eyes, for he knew Aragorn was right. While they were on this quest, they had not the time to act upon the affection between them, save the conversations that were already commonplace and their bedrolls besides one another.

He grasped the Evenstar brooch softly in his hand. “I swear to live to see your promise to me fulfilled.” Then he smiled and his face became less formal. “Still, I hope you’ll allow me one kiss, before we start our agreement.”

That Aragorn could most certainly agree to and he leaned in closer waiting for Boromir to close the gap between them. His lips were chapped, yet soft. They pressed firmly against Aragorn’s, but they did not demand more than Aragorn could give as his tongue swiped over his bottom lip, asking for permission to deepen the kiss.

It was a permission, Aragorn granted eagerly and he was swiftly carried away by a gentle hand cupping his cheek, while the other clutched at his clothes. He lost his breath in the kiss, yet he had never felt more alive.

When it was over and Boromir pulled away, he had to gather his wits about himself for a moment. As he did so, Boromir smiled: “That is one memory to keep me walking on long roads ahead. We should head to dinner now though, I do not think Pippin will forgive us, were we to miss a meal now that we have it. Hobbits are quite peculiar about food.”

Aragorn remembered four Hobbits wanting to stop for a second breakfast, now already ages ago and smiled. He would not let go of the memory of the kiss either, but he knew better than to linger on it while they emotionally could not. Instead he agreed: “They very much are,” before leading the way through winding paths.

At dinner it was only Legolas, who noticed the jewel now sitting on Boromir’s neck and raised a brow at Aragorn, who shook his head softly, urging the Elf not to ask.

And so they lived with the knowledge of a potential future held close in their heart. It might be war, but was war not the place for love? For if there was no love in war, who did they fight for?

The only indication of their newfound closeness that was kept platonic for the sake of the quest was their bedrolls that found their waycloser to each other when they camped on the shores and watchesspend together, gazing at the stars and the eyes of the other.

Yet not all things that were good, were meant to last. The darkness was ever growing and no matter the love Boromir held in his heart for Aragorn, he had long since learned that his duty came first. Andthe voice of the Ring had twisted that love for his people into something ugly beyond recognition.

Still Aragorn had not yet accepted the gleam in Boromir’s eyes as corruption, perhaps blinded by love and unwilling to accept it as something other than the proud stubbornness he knew the other man held as well, perhaps it was the Ring influencing him to be blind.

No matter their affections, there were points they fundamentally disagreed on. “Minas Tirith is the safer road. You know that. From there we can regroup. Strike out for Mordor from a place of strength.”

Aragorn pictured the Ring surrounded by hearts that had been corrupted like Isildur’s, the land that had been the origin of the weakness in his own blood. “There is no strength in Gondor that can avail us.”

“You were quick enough to trust the Elves,” Boromir shot back and Aragorn said nothing, while rolling his eyes mentally, willing Boromir to see his point of view. “Have you so little faith in your own people? Yes, there is weakness. There is frailty. But there is courage also, and honor to be found in Men. But you will not see that.”

In that moment Aragorn found himself becoming irrationally angry yethe did not want to snap at Boromir, even if he bristled at Boromir judging him to be less of his perception of men, when he already judged him if he was worthy of a throne he had not asked for. How much more judgment would Boromir need to pass on him?

However, Boromir was not done with him yet and gripped his tunic, his touch for once not comforting, but aggressive. “You are afraid! All your life, you have hidden in the shadows.” And Aragorn was trying not to react as he let Boromir rave. “Scared of who you are, of what you are.”

With that Aragorn wrenched himself free. He was not listening to this. He was trying so hard and Boromir knew that, Boromir knew what was stopping him, what scared him. He was being viscous on purpose.

He began to stalk off, but a small dark voice whispered in his mind to snap, to make Boromir feel that hurt pit in his chest that Aragorn felt now. “I will not lead the Ring within a hundred leagues of your City.”

That night their bedrolls were on opposite sides of the camp and neither held the other company during their watch. They did not speak the next day either.

As they peddled he did not look at Boromir, though his eyes wanted to stray over to see if the Son of Gondor was safe still. He fought it. While he might have said things to hurt, it had been Boromir who started the confrontation and took it too far. It had always been Aragorn apologizing or explaining himself on this journey and he would not be the one now.

So with clenching heart he kept to himself, hoping that this would not unmake whatever chance they had at an us.

“Where’s Frodo?”

Merry’s words snapped him out of his despairing thoughts and his eyes scannedthe campsite for their Ring-bearer. Instead of a Halfling, they fell upon an abandoned shield and a cold wave washed over him as he realized what it had been that made Boromir unnecessarily cruel yesterday.

When he found the Ring-bearer, his words made the cold that was already upon him, burrow into his bones and flow through his veins. Would Boromir ever recover from the corruption of the Ring or would he never again be the man Aragorn met and fell for?

It were not questions he had the time to ponder, because Uruk-hai were marching ever closer and he had to ensure he would see Frodo to safety for as long as he could. Still, he could not help but think of his promise to Boromir as he tried to stay alive on the hills of Amon Hen.

As he was driven back Legolas and Gimli joined him and he looked back frantically for Boromir, fear clouding his heart as he envisioned an out of his mind Boromir, encountering Frodo aloneonce more, or even the other Hobbits alone and unprotected.

Then a loud horn blow echoed over the hills and another outcome he had not considered gripped his heart and twisted it. It was undoubtedly Boromir’s horn, the same horn he had blown when they left Rivendell for he refused to be a thief in the night. The horn that meant Boromir was in trouble too large for him to handle on his own, while they were with three.

A new vigor he did not know he possessed settled intohis soul as he ripped through the forces of the enemy, trying to reach the sound in time.

Boromir had multiple arrows in his chest and a large Uruk-hai pointing a killing shot at his face when Aragorn arrived.

Laterhe could not tell how he got there, but soon he found himself dropping down next to the body ofBoromir, eyes filled with unshed tears and a thousand apologies upon his lips. If only he had talked to Boromir, if only he had seen, if only he had paid attention.

Still as he laid there, it was his Boromir. He knew that no Ring could ever care about the well being of the Fellowship, especially the Hobbits, the way Boromir haddone. And even if he laid there, pierced by many arrows, he said: “They took the little ones.”

It was not Aragorn’s concern for now, as he desperately tried to staunch the bleeding of too many wounds.

“Frodo?” Boromir was panicked, which was not helping his condition. “Where is Frodo?”

“I let Frodo go.” Aragorn would not lie to him in what might be his final moments. He squashed the thought, but it was still prominent in his mind.

“Then you did what I could not.” It was a laboring speech, lungs filling with blood. “You need not worry about your blood, for it was I, who was weak and gave into corruption. I tried to take the Ring from him.”

His words about Isildur reflected back at him in this moment soundedout of tune in his ears and he cursed himself for giving Boromir the idea that he was ever weak. Aragorn knew he had not been free from the Rings voice and it was mere luck that saved him from being its main target. “The Ring is beyond our reach now.”

“Forgive me. I did not see… I have failed you all.”

Aragorn hated to see Boromir like this. He had always been so sure of himself, relishing his history with the pride of a man, who valued his honor. He would not let him lie there and speak ill about himself, not while he was still breathing. “No, Boromir. You fought bravely. You have kept your honor.”

He could not let it end like this. He would not let it end like this. They both made a promise and the jewel on Boromir’s neck was a token of this. He would not allow this to be the end of the tale of Boromir the Bold.

While he did not have much, he made the best attempt to bind the wounds, but it was a foolish attempt and cloth colored deeply and fast.

“Leave it! It is over… the world of Men will fall and all will come to darkness and my City to ruin… Aragorn…”

No, Boromir could not give up on Gondor. Aragorn knew the hope had been fading from Boromir’s heart for many years, but not a day ago he was telling him about the courage and honor of Men and when he spoke of the White City, he only spoke with love. Aragorn would not let him die, thinking all he loved was lost. “I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you… I will not let the White City fall, nor your people fail…” It was an oath he intended to keep.

“Our people,” Boromir corrected. “Our people.” And Aragorn could cry. He had stopped trying to tend to the wounds, but this made him try again. He could not give up on Boromir after he had given him so much of himself.

Still, when Boromir’s hand reached for his sword, he helped him even if he knew why the other reached for it. He chocked through the blood his final words: “I would have followed you, my love… my Captain, my King.”

And then Boromir was no more.

For a moment the world did not move. All was silent around him as he looked upon the fair and quiet face before him.

A bout of aggression came over him and he shook the limp form of Gondor’s favourite Son as he cried and raged. “You promised me you’d live. I promised you that I would protect you. I command you to live, Boromir. Do not make me an oath breaker. Do not make me loose you… love, please, come back to me.”

No matter his rage or cracking voice, there was no reaction.

Aragorn suddenly felt far removed from the forest, the hills, the stench ofthe dead. He was floating above it, not grieving, but pausing, as if he could make the world rewind until it was right again if he just distanced himself enough.

From above he saw himself kiss the forehead of his beloved, the skin still warm under his lips as it had been in Lothlórien, yet completely alien. “Be at peace, Son of Gondor,” he whispered and left athelas on his wounds, even if he knew it would not bring Boromir back. It was a waste of resources to make him feel like he had done something for Boromir when he had failed him so.

Behind him Legolas and Gimli appeared, both seasoned warriors and understanding what had just happened to their comrade. They fell silent. Legolas knew what Boromir had meant to Aragorn and Gimli had most probably put the pieces together as well.

Softly Aragorn brushed the hair out of Boromir’s face and straightened the jewel on his chest, before taking the bracers of his arms and strapping them to his own. It felt fitting, a piece of his home in exchange for a piece of Boromir’s.

“They will look for his coming from the White Tower, but he will not return,” he said, swallowing hard.

Yet he knew what he had to do. They had not the time to bury Boromir like the Kings of old and Aragorn vowed he would return for him. If not to bury what was left of him, then to build a monument in his honor where he had fallen.

For now he had a promise to fulfill.

“Boromir did not die in vain. I will not let him,” Aragorn said. “While Frodo, Sam with him, is beyond our help, Merry and Pippin still need us. I will not abandon this Fellowship so easily. Take only what you must. We travel light. Let’s hunt some Orc.”

Within minutes they had ditched all that they must and were on the run, an hopeless rescue mission that was mind-numbing in the chase, while vital for Aragorn’s heart. He would not fail Boromir, he would win in Boromir’s name and be the best King he could be for their people.

What the three hunters did not know was the soft beat in Boromir’s chest, for he had not been an oath breaker and he could not disobey a command from his King. Brought back from the brink, he lay there with athelas keeping him on the edge of life.

They also did not know about an Elven group, hurrying down the river to answer the call of a horn that demanded aid.

The three hunters could not know that slowly Boromir was heaved into a boat, loosing his horn to the river as the Elves rowed him to their forest, where the one who could heal him resided, if he were to survive the trip.

So, they fought for a friend they thought dead.

A/N:

Thisis not really based in canon, but I like the idea of Boromir talking during marches. It might have started as a way to ease the minds of the soldiers under his command, or just something to stave of the boredom and a habit he picked up after marching often.

Also I like the idea that Aragorn is a great King, who is v good at negotiation and stuff, but the moment it’s abt Boromir, he looses all chill and skills he has. He’s a gay disaster, ur honor and I love him.

It has not as much dialogue as I would like, but there seemed no place to fit it in and this style of story comes natural to me now and I am quite happy with it still :D

I tried really hard with Tolkien’s writing style and while some parts are better than others, I am happy with my attempt bc it was a bit of an experiment.

The title and chapter titles are from Hadestown, the number Promises, bc I have emotions about it.

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mckinlily · 4 years ago

Note

i am genuinely in love with your writing, particularly your foster care au. like everything about it is so good!! i adore the found family and wow you write the relationships between all of the characters so well! (I especially love the pride one it makes me so happy). if you have any other headcanons id love to hear them but if you want to save them or anything no worries, i just wanted to let you know how much i love your writing.

I literally don't have words, this is so sweet!! Thank you so much! And I am delighted to hear how much you love the foster care au. I was so convinced that I would be the only one interested in it, but I guess you really can't go wrong with found family. Complicated but loving relationships are my jam.

I was thinking about what headcanons to share, and you know who I haven't talked a lot about? Allura. Which is a TRAVESTY I tell you. How could I have done my girl dirty like that? But let's rectify that here:

Allura is the only child of Alfor Altea, a business tycoon who died unexpectedly just before she graduated high school.

This has left Allura very rich, very lonely, and feeling very disconnected from the majority of her peers.

Coran is an anthropology professor at Harvard, Alfor old friend, and Allura's godfather. He loves Allura very, very much and is painfully waiting for Allura to accept his help with her grief.

Allura is doing a double major of Political Science and International Relation. As well as a minor in philosophy, biology, hey maybe add in some engineering.

Some might see this as a maladaptive coping mechanism. Others would point out that Allura's hyper-competence is just like that. The truth is probably a combination of both.

Allura is also involved in like a hundred clubs and student-lead organizations. Shiro is only slightly joking when he asks if Allura intends to take over the entire campus.

Allura convinces Shiro into taking classes like pilates or gymnastics or volleyball with her for "easy" credits.

Both of them are WAY to naturally talented and FAR too competitive together. They'd be awful if they weren't also so darn nice.

A lot these classes are very woman dominated. There'd probably be a lot of rumors about Shiro joining just to "pick up chicks" if it weren't for most the class just assuming he and Allura are a Thing.

Somehow both Shiro and Allura still manage to be surprised that this happens every. single. time.

This is getting a bit into spoiler territory, but nothing big and this fic is taking forever to finish anyway so let's add...ROMELLE!

I'm going with a design based on @breezycheezyart 's Black Romelle because she's gorgeous and I can't unsee it

Romelle and Allura become friends their freshmen year, and Romelle is Allura's best friend after Shiro.

Romelle is an bubbly, social Art History major. Also I've decided to make her a lesbian because I can and it's what we deserve.

(This means so far Lance is probably the only straight character in the series. Sorry, Lance.)

Romelle hasn't met all of Shiro's siblings, but she's heard about them. She adores them vicariously through Allura.

(Hunk is her favorite).

It doesn't happen all at once, but over time Allura comes to adopt Shiro's siblings as her own. Or perhaps it happens the other way around. In any case, they're family now. It doesn't make up for losing her father, and perhaps it's because this new family is completely different that she accept it. No one will ever replace her father. But she's never had siblings before.

Turns out, she rather likes it.

#thanks for the ask!#i wish i had better words to express just how much i appreciate it!#sorry it took so long #foster care au #mckinlily writes: vld fic

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quirkless-and-proud · 4 years ago

Text

Vigilante Au

Mido finds aizawa in the middle of a fight in an alley and then there’s a gunshot and eraser is down and the villains escape,

when mido approaches him he assumes he’s another vigilante and cuts his hand on the approach, a sign from one vigilante to another that they are not pros, (willing to make one’s self vulnerable to gain trust from someone already hurt and bring yourself to that level)

when he gets close enough, he sees the goggles and realizes this is a pro, and before eraser passes out he grabs him by the arm and says he can’t be taken to a hospital - there is a mole in the police force

when eraser next wakes up he’s in an apartment, completely bare with dressings on his gunshot wound as well as the other damage he sustained

now that he’s more lucid, eraser realizes he’s hooked up to an iv and he can’t feel the gunshot as well as he’d be able to if he wasn’t on some sort of pain meds

conversation is stilted and mido asks what is going to happen next, since he won’t be on his feet for another 2 weeks without quirk healing

eraser asks about the bullet and the kid shrugs and says it’s not the first time he’s had to deal with one and as for the medical equipment, he has some friends who are willing to supply medium grade med supplies on the down low

eraser wants to ask where they are, where the kids parents are and a multitude of other things but realizes that he’s going to have to rely on this kid until he’s on his feet

over the course of those two weeks eraser notices two distinct things, one, that other vigilantes drop in with information, food, money, or a multitude of other things and receive medical care in return

and two, that children or other random adults with serious injuries turn up for medical care as well, the children usually crying and the adults not, they all wear the same shoes as mido tho, so he wonders how they’re all connected

essentially, the sludge villian incident was at the end of mido’s 2nd year of middle school and he was told off by all might, then over the summer he decided to become a vigilante, taking summer courses at a dojo that helped quirk less kids, his mom died at the beginning of the last year of middle school and between her life insurance and his dad’s payments for the apt, mido realized that he could keep the apt to himself so long as someone signed for him, so one of the vigilantes registered as his big brother and the two of them lived together until 2 months before eraser turned up because he died (way more emotional and spontaneous)

this was decided by a meeting of the vigilante “council” which is 15 different people who showed up at mido’s house after he took over for the brother that died before he met eraser it’s similar to pirates of the caribbean where it’s passed down verbally and with a token from the original 15

aizawa doesn’t want him putting himself in danger and mido flaps him off as best he can but also points out that he needs his help, he doesn’t have many choices and he is getting everyone personally

3 members of the council approach eraser w/out mido and tell eraser in no uncertain terms that if mido is hurt in any way he will be held personally responsible and that vigilantes rely on him for intel/analysis of villains and hero’s alike to avoid/help/capture and he has saved their lives both with the hospital and also with his mind. building up a network of safety took time and eraser has to realize how many lives he will put in danger if he tries to dismantle the network.

one of the 3 stays back and tells eraser she was mido’s brother’s first contact and longest friend, and that he asked her to watch after mido. she tells eraser she thinks mido could be a pro, that he might be the key to ending vigilantism but that he could revolutionize pro-hero work. the kid is wicked smart but she doesn’t want to see him become bitter and jaded.

this is something eraser has been thinking about non stop the whole time he’s been holed up here.

eraser asks her for a knife. it is the single request all vigilantes must obey, a sign of trust.

he cuts his palm and says he swears to try his best to take care of mido, as much as the boy will let him and that he will do everything in his power not to jeopardize or hurt him. “a vigilante adoption if you will”

and mido, this whole time. well. he’s still mido and there’s a lot of hero worship of eraser who fights essentially quirkless and has been respectful and kind to the quirkless kids and who has relied on and trusted him

and so 5 of the 15 vigilante council, including mido are to do a recon op of the police station and try to incriminate the mole based on plans eraser helped them lay out

it goes alright except mido breaks 2 ribs fighting someone and when he gets back eraser is able to stand and takes over his care as best he can and mido tells him he can go back to the police, the mole has been caught

eraser asks mido why he isn’t trying to become a pro

mido laughs and makes a broken noise and says a very reliable source told him he couldn’t be

and eraser says whoever it was was out of their goddamned mind, that they must have been blind and deaf to miss what was in front of their faces, he points out the illogic and that he fights quirkless and he points to everything mido had done in a little over a year, how fast and capable he is and the connections he has already and just, if eraser knew the kids from his classes would be half as good as mido eraser could retire because crime wouldn’t be a problem

and mido is crying and eraser asks him if he would go to ua, if he would let eraser work out a deal for him and recommend him

and mido says his money must go to the hospital, he can’t leave this place and he doesn’t have money to really go to school and his grades aren’t great (half on purpose lol)

and eraser says what he does with his money is his business as long as eraser can’t prove it and that getting a hero license would help him protect vigilantes and there would be some rules, like he wouldn’t be able to live on his own like this, but there are places eraser is willing to look away in the short term until they can figure out a real long term plan

and mido says he wouldn’t have anywhere to live that isn’t the hospital and eraser says kid if you think i’d do this for just a student, i mean i’d be a hell of a teacher but i’m only a decent one, that i already declared a vigilante adoption in front of that girl, unprompted, and that his husband and he had always considered fostering/adopting

and mido blurts out something that means he knows it’s present mic despite no formal paperwork saying that anywhere and eraser just fucking loses it and starts laughing like a madman because of course mido figured it out the kid is a genius

and yes, hizashi and i would fucking love you kid, like you deserve and you wouldn’t have to do all of this alone, and you wouldn’t have all this responsibility, you could give it to me and then, slowly as you become an adult we add it back without overwhelming you

and mido says to let him go to ground for 2 weeks - that eraser has to give him time to sort a few things out, largely to protect everyone at the hospital and get word out to the quirkless kids and eraser says okay

and in 2 weeks eraser has talked to nezu and they have a plan and a police deal and mido walks up to the gates of ua all by himself with a backpack that has notebooks and clothes but nothing else (he ran everyone to ground, moved the hospital and sorted out the money problem with that girl) and now he’s standing in front of eraserhead turning himself in

my name is midoriya izuku, you know me as mido and i am here to turn myself in

nezu regards him with a glint in his eyes and eraser just rolls his eyes and hugs the kid telling him he has done a good job and that he’ll take it from here

———

this is a really lost outline for a fic that i would love if someone else wrote lol

sorry about caps and stuff, this is really just for the notes section on my phone so hope you like it

#bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha au #midoriya izuku #aizawa #shoto aizawa #aizawa x yamada #bakugo #all might #yagi toshinori #my hero academia #quirkless midoriya izuku #vigilante midoriya #vigilante au #bnha vigilantes

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athys-obelia · 4 years ago

Text

hey hey hey.

so like i had a thought?

au where felix notices how down diana is about her pregnancy and approaches her. she confides in him - she's afraid for her child, any complications with their health, their future, everything. the chance she is betting on is a good life for her child with their father, but...she cannot foresee the future, after all. diana has worries as any new mother would.

(under cut for length)

and after pondering on it, felix proposes an idea: what if he could garuntee this child's safety? diana had already expressed her will to make him their godfather, shouldn't he rise to the occasion? you should run away, he tells her, and spend the rest of your pregnancy at one of my father's estates.

she agrees, albeit hesitantly. he's been distancing himself from her - claude - ever since the pregnancy, but she visits him on her last night at the palace. it is a horrible night - all goodbyes are - and claude seems to sense something. he asks of her to spend the night, and diana can't find it within herself to reject the request. she'll just have to slip during at night, she thinks.

she spends her final trimester on robane lands, under the care and knowledge of felix's father as the knight spearheads the quiet search for the emperor's favorite concubine. she feels strangely at peace.

the search intensifies as her due date nears, and the week of athanasia's birth, everything...stops. duke robane explains the emperor cannot make the loss of an heir public knowledge, and has ordered the destruction of ruby palace. the concubines have been dismissed.

diana receives a special visit a few hours before going into labour - before her is a beautiful brunette with determined eyes. diana's body grows weaker by the day, she has been bedridden for the past few days, but she feels content. her child will be fine. so will her lover. claude may think her selfish after this, though she supposes if it can garuntee her baby's smile, she will accept it. she can be selfish if needed.

the obelian skies mirror the chaotic silence within the imperial palace. the young emperor has not made an appearance in the audience hall for days. his tailor has not received any orders for the usual military attire lately - rather, the instructions detail a simplistic, pure white fabric, as if...almost as if he were in mourning. the eerie calm seems to foreshow a storm.

and amidst the rain and thunder roaring across the empire, under the gaze of an ever loyal knight and a young lady, a princess is born quiet. her declining breaths reflect her mother's. "she has your eyes, my lady," says lilian york, "her father's beautiful colouring, but the strength is from you. the strength you have given her. she will live with power."

"and love?" the new mother asks weakly.

"lots," the knight swears. "a child borne of love deserves nothing less."

she is safe, my daughter - my daughter is...

by the end of the week, the imperial directory is edited at the command of his majesty, the emperor. a new name is added.

athanasia de alger obelia.

lilian york sighs at the babe in her arms. "the undying...what a cruel joke. his majesty can't possibly know whether lady diana or the little princess are still alive."

"no - it is the name lady diana expressed her partiality for," felix says with a slight smile, "it is a dare."

little athanasia groans.

athanasia de alger obelia - or, more commonly, athanasia robane - has seen many families. lilian does not what to say when the princess wonders why she cannot call her 'mother'. why she cannot address the men she believes to be her father and grandfather as such, why her grandfather refers to her as 'my lady'.

at the age of four, athanasia has stopped asking such questions. lilian cannot help but marvel at the way she avoids the topic with an intelligence that should realistically be far beyond her years.

athanasia's grandfather has made habit of asking her the same question as he tucks her in every night. "are you happy, my lady?"

she nods every time - it is such an obvious answer, after all. "athy is so happy, grandpapa! thiiiiis much!! why do you always ask that?"

her grandfather smiles. athy loves that her grandfather smiles so much. "i come from a family of knights, my lady. we are taught to honour our promises first and foremost."

"did you promise someone you would keep me happy, grandpapa?"

duke robane raises an amused eyebrow. "aren't you chatty today? get some sleep, sweet one. i will be here in the morning."

he always is.

duke robane tends to frequent the palace often. today, however, is a special day.

"were you on your way to the hall?" the emperor inquires, running into the red haired noble on his walk.

he bows in greeting. "i was not. i did not wish to bother you today, your majesty. i know you do not like to be disturbed during this time of year."

claude rather likes duke robane. he is relatively tolerable, like an older, wiser version of felix. "then what are doing outside the palace?"

"i was on my way to town, your majesty, with a... family member. her birthday is arriving soon, you see, but she was quite taken with your beautiful gardens, so i let her wander outside - i wouldn't dare allow her inside without your majesty's approval, of course."

claude raises an eyebrow. "a family member?"

"my granddaughter, sire."

claude glances at felix curiously. "i was not aware of this... development. how many children are you fathering when you're not bothering me?"

felix snorts.

"er...a foster granddaughter, your majesty."

"i do not see her here. i assume she is felix's current heir, is she not? i should be offended you have not introduced us."

"she is playing a game, sire," duke robane explains, "she has gone to hide and i am to find her. it is called hide and seek, as i am told."

he winces at the familiar voice calling out, "grandpapa!! look at this shiny flowe-"

little athanasia's face pales.

"my lady, meet his majesty, the emperor of the Obelian empire."

the blonde princess clutches her grandfather's sleeve. "from... from athy's books?"

felix cannot tear his gaze away from the emperor's face - or rather, the jewelled eyes that stare at his goddaughter.

claude could laugh. that face, even with her eyes matching the prominent robane silvery eyes...felix must really take him for an idiot, he thinks. really, he should be offended. he remembers putting felix in charge of the search years ago... lying to the emperor? disguising a member of the imperial family to pass off as their own? in what land would this not be a crime?

still, this...this 'athy' looks happy. or looked happy, before she saw him. only a fool would grow to be jovial in the palace, so claude wonders whether thank you may be in order for keeping his child so cheery.

then again, this said under the assumption that he would've kept the child alive in the first place.

claude glances at duke robane - the man is usually so poised, he thinks he'll have some fun while this little charade is up.

"what is your name?" he asks blankly.

the duke interjects, "we call her athy, sire. the name athena truly fits her - she is a very bright child."

ah, interesting...felix's father seems to both be smarter and care for the girl more than claude initially credited him.

"hide and seek," claude muses, barely making an effort to hide his smirk, "so, you've finally decided to come out of hiding."

"i was on my way to the lake. get ready to join me."

duke robane glances at five year old athanasia - she had been called to the palace for tea with the emperor once, after which their little tea parties became something of a common occurrence. he had faced hell and beyond trying to keep it under wraps - at least felix's position as the emperor's guard was a comfort.

"your majesty, forgive me, but the lady hasn't learnt to swim. i fear it may be dangerous."

athanasia shoots him a look - don't argue with the emperor, grandpapa!

"what's there to worry about when she's with me?" claude asks, eyebrow quirked, "besides. the three of you should be quite used to playing dangerous games by now."

felix sputters. "your, your majesty?"

yes, dealing with house robane is much more entertaining than roger alpheus could hope to be...

"what was it? hide and seek. your daughter could get lost, isn't that sort of thing very dangerous?"

athanasia raises an eyebrow at him, unimpressed, as felix flushes red. claude finds himself wondering - not for the first time - what goes inside her head? it's not uncommon for this child of five to react with the maturity of an adult, intriguingly.

"lets go, uncle!" she exclaims, offering him her hand as he's seen the duke and felix hold it often. she interwined her fingers with his once he accepts her hand. so small, it is. small and soft, as if he could crush her with the littlest force.

claude stares at her platinum blonde hair, a hint of a smile playing on his features. "robane has gotten quite daring lately. of course, a bold house will raise a bold child."

"grandpapa?"

duke robane glances at the blonde in his doorway - how out of place her bright hair had once looked, bouncing around in contrast to the rich, deep browns and reds of the robane mansion. the estate seems to lose life whenever his foster granddaughter visits the palace, now. as per their little custom, she visits him in his study at her return. "my lady. come."

"i have to greet lily soon or she'll get mad. she hates when i meet you without being dressed for it. but i really wanted to see grandpapa." she grins brightly, and he thinks her smile is the gods compensating for the moon's quiet glow. the princess takes her place on his lap. "what are you doing, grandpapa?"

"there's some trouble at the border. i'm only looking over our damages, i'll be done soon."

athanasia's grandpapa has never once dismissed her questions claiming she's too young. he's never withheld knowledge she's asked for. sure, he makes it so the terms are easier for her to understand, but she's never been out of the loop. "how has the emperor been to you, sweet one?"

"i almost called him daddy today," she admits, feeling her grandfather's hand on her shoulder tighten.

"oh?"

athanasia chuckles. "well, that's a lie. i did call him that. but...he seemed okay with it."

"truly?"

"yeah! he's so odd. he even told me i should stop wearing so much red and black."

"what did you say to that?" the duke asks.

"i told him they were my house colours, obviously. i can't just stop wearing my house colours! he said purple suits me better. i mean, if i was his daughter or something i could wear a lot of purple. it's the imperial family's colour, isn't it?"

he clears his throat. "...you were at the palace for the entire day, my dear, weren't you bored?"

"not really. oh! i met a magician today too."

"a magician?"

"mhm! everyone at the palace is so weird, honestly. apparently he's been sleeping there ever since emperor aeternitas? i don't know, he was really strange."

"emperor aeternitas? from nearly two hundred years ago? what else do you remember about this mage, my lady?"

she presses her finger to her chin. "to tell you the truth, grandpapa, he was very pretty. like...really pretty."

athanasia's grandfather gives her a smile she has learnt to be vary of. "are you interested in this magician, my child? i don't mind extending an invitation for the pair of you to become better acquainted."

"grandpapa! when will you stop trying to become a matchmaker?"

duke robane sighs playfully. "i'm only thinking of your future, my lady. your debutante is not too far - you will need an escort to dance the night away with."

she pouts. "i can dance with you, grandpapa."

he chuckles, and the silence stretches until athanasia breaks it once more, murmuring a soft, "no."

"no?" her grandfather echoes, confused.

"that's a 7," she says, pointing towards the document he's been working on. "not 3, that was last time. grandpapa told me the border towns have a larger population now, so that needs to be factored in, doesn't it?"

duke robane studies the calculation, the surprise evident in his sharp features. "hm?...you're right, thank you."

she grins. "i've been working on my sums lately! aren't you proud of me, grandpapa?"

"always, sweet one. you're very smart to be at this level so young."

athanasia beams. "i mean, you taught me everything so it's almost like you're praising yourself, you know?" her grandfather laughs at that, the sound deep and familiar. "anyway, are these real gold? they're very pretty." she gestures towards a box of earrings resting on her grandfather's desk.

"they were your mother's," the duke tells her, feeling the girl stiffen. "i planned to give them to you at your return."

"they're very...siodonnan," she remarks almost awkwardly. "very pretty."

"she wanted you to have them. apparently they were a gift."

"oh."

he confirms with a slight chuckle, "they are gold, authentic. that fascinates you, doesn't it? you've always been quite taken with shiny things, ever since you were a child. your grandfather was like that too, athanasia."

"you're like that?"

the duke of house robane blinks in surprise once. then twice.

felix stares at the eleven year old in the emperor's bed. blonde hair spilled all over the pillows, her frail body hidden under the covers. how...?

he hadn't registered the passage of time at all. the emperor's index and middle fingers rest on athanasia's forehead, his own creased in concentration and annoyance. felix can't even help the fury building within himself.

"your majesty," he begins cautiously - claude has been a wild card ever since watching his daughter cough up blood at the breakfast table. the massacre everyone was on edge about eleven years ago at ruby palace would've been inevitable yesterday had athanasia's childhood friend - the mage - not arrived as early as he had. "you should rest."

claude's gaze turns to him dangerously. "do not tell me to rest when-"

the girl stirs uncomfortably, her eyes opening. she glances at felix before tugging on her father's sleeve weakly. "papa...?" tears prick at the corner of the young princess's eyes.

oh, that's right - felix remembers his father having the talk with the princess a few months ago. she had accepted the new information quietly, and rather quickly, to the both robane mens' surprise. the princess had started bringing her father flowers on her visits from then, and as if in return, claude had an entire garden in built where ruby palace would've been.

the emperor's hand returns to his daughter's forehead and she blinks sleepily a few times before drifting right back to sleep. the magic has long worn off - neither father nor daughter had flinched at the sight of her shimmering blue eyes. if anything, felix had seen claude's shoulders relax.

the emperor lets out a small sigh. "i will not be here when she wakes." he traces the soft collar of her purple nightgown. "and should she consent, see to it that athanasia moves into emerald palace by the end of the month. she has been fostered long enough."

oh, his father would definitely not like that.

"are you mad, papa?" athanasia asks, the sequins of her debutante dress glittering bright u der the lights of the hall..

"why would i be? did someone dare say something to y-"

she latches onto his arm before her father has a chance to finish. "no! nobody could dare offend me on my debut. especially when i have you by my side."

"then you do you ask?"

she plays with the intricate patterns on the arm of his outfit. "because i refused to move in with you? trust me, papa, i didn't mean to hurt you at all...i was only..." scared. it was at the debutante, wasn't it? when you chose jennette over the real athy.

"it was simply your choice," the emperor tells her flatly. "and i seem to recall you delaying it. not refusing."

athanasia laughs sheepishly. "that's right. i don't want to force myself into your life. i really love our time together though, papa."

her breath hitches as claude halts in his step. his hand raises to her jawline, thumb brushing against against her earrings. "where...? where did you..."

"papa? do you need to sit down?"

it does the trick, snapping her father out of whatever trance he had been under.

"won't you dance again? i'll be here," he encourages, and athanasia nods. she's shared one with her godfather, one with ezekiel alpheus...

"what are you doing here, your highness?" duke robane inquires, separating himself from his conversation partners.

"won't you dance with me, grandpapa?"

the duke can't help but smile at the way she addresses him. "you were escorted by his majesty, sweet one. why do you wish to spend your precious time with this lowly servant?"

"grandpapa!"

he sighs with a fond smile. "alright, alright. but even dancing with fathers is out of fashion nowadays, princess. and you're here, asking me?"

she frowns, unimpressed. "i think you don't want to dance because you're so tall. are you calling me unskilled?"

he gives her a charming smile. "how could i dare?"

"don't you remember, grandpapa? in your study?" she extends her hand with a familiar smirk, "i come from a family of knights, my lord. we are taught to honour our promises first and foremost."

and really, when has duke robane ever been able to refuse his granddaughter?

a/n: literally what is this. why is this. when i say i only meant to write a drabble-

but!! duke robane never hesitates in standing up for his granddaughter, even against the emperor! athy and found family!! honestly i love the dukes' conflict here - alpheus with jennette and robane with athy :)

claude and his subtle shade 🙃

lily and the robanes honoring their promise to diana and teaching athy both love and strength <3

the magic explosion thing happened much later, and with slightly different claude/athy dynamics - he certainly can't take her presence for granted, she doesn't doesn't even live with him yet (she wants to!! the insecurities around jennette are just acting up rn)

athy will have support during amnesia arc + ana's antics!!!

#athanasia robane au!!#all i want is happy athy ok #who made me a princess #suddenly became a princess one day #wmmap #sbapod #athanasia #claude de alger obelia #felix robane #athanasia de alger obelia #duke robane #lilian york #diana of siodonna

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wherethewordsare · 4 years ago

Note

#14 omg and they were roommates😂😂😂 can this pls be a college au. Im just *feeling it~*

Ily jay ☆⌒ヽ(*'､^*)chu

Jesus, Cheese, darling, I am so fucking sorry this took me a century to write!!! <3 <3 <3 ily too, duck <3

14. We’re roommates but we’re falling for each other

“Geralt, oh Geralt!” A sing-song voice pierced through his foggy head as fingers pinched his socked toes over the arm of the couch, shaking his leg gently. “Come on, sleepy head. We’re going to be late.” Jaskier was standing at the end of the couch and Geralt could tell he was beaming, despite the heavy scarf that was wrapped around his head.

“Hmm.” Geralt rolled, tucking his legs in as he smooched his face into the couch. There was only so much Jaskier being that chipper he could handle while he was still hung over. “No.” He grumbled and burrowed deeper into the cushions.

“You didn’t even know what I was going to ask!” Jaskier pulled down his scarf and crossed his arms over the end of the couch, leaning his chin against them.

“You’re up early which means it can be nothing good.” Geralt blindly searched for a pillow and gave it a gentle heft at his roommate who knocked it back down to his shins easily. “Besides, it was your idea to go out drinking last night. The least you could do is let me sleep.”

“But you promised to help me today,” Jaskier pouted, though his eyes gleamed with mischief. “And what if I get you one of those coffees from the place on the corner you always say costs too much but you would drink a gallon of it if you could?”

Geralt lifted his head, squinting at his roommate but sighed and relented. There was only so much bribery and pouting he could take. “Fine, but it better be a large.”

“With a double shot of espresso!” Jaskier beamed over the edge of his scarf, getting to his feet as he helped Geralt to his. “You just watch, Geralt. This is going to be the best Christmas yet!” He was already heading towards the door.

“Wait. What are we doing?” Geralt suddenly felt as though he maybe should have stayed on the couch.

-o-O-o-

The little Christmas market set up downtown was overly crowded, a mess of churning bodies and packages and little cardboard trays stacked with fried things covered in powdered sugar. One such mess was being pushed into Geralt’s hands as he tried to hang back around a light pole.

“Jaskier, why are we doing all this? We didn’t bother last year,” he picked over the confection in his hand. It was irritatingly delicious and he couldn’t hide his face fast enough for Jaskier not to notice.

“We didn’t bother last year cause we had only just moved in. There was simply no time. Besides, I hadn’t realized you didn’t really-” he cut himself off, worrying his lip for a moment as he searched for the right words.

Geralt groaned inwardly. He had hoped that there had been enough alcohol that night that Jaskier had simply forgotten. The foster system wasn’t exactly how you made lasting childhood memories of happy holidays. But it had never bothered him and he didn’t see why it had to bother Jaskier. But then Jaskier was looking at him with those fucking eyes.

“Nothing crazy,” he sighed, relenting. He offered Jaskier a piece of funnel cake and tried not to stare at the powdered sugar that stuck to his lip. “I see one spec of tinsel and you’ll be staying with Essi for a month.”

“Oh, bah humbug to you too, darling.” Jaskier laughed, his cheeks flushed in the cold, and Geralt had to look elsewhere. He tried not to linger on the thought of what that laugh did to his insides, let alone the affectionate ‘darling’ Jaskier seemed to drop when he found Geralt being particularly difficult. Instead, he shoved the last of the funnel cake into his face and glowered off into the distance.

-o-O-o-

The evening was a collection of cliche traditions that Geralt had only ever seen in movies. He never thought that real people actually decorated their whole place in fairy lights and an actual live tree. He would roll his eyes and huff but let himself be pulled into the kitchen to get dough rolled out or back into their tiny living room to try to find space for the live tree Jaskier mooned over in the market. He cussed up a storm as he untangled the second-hand lights but made sure to handle the ornaments Jaskier brought out with care. He tried not to think too much about a much younger Jaskier holding these same ornaments and passing them to his Gran as Geralt passed them to him now.

He was surprised when Jaskier stuck to softer classics for the music that he streamed from their tv, keeping the volume low. For all the cheesiness that he was being subjected to, he could appreciate that Jaskier was doing things at a pace Geralt wouldn’t get overwhelmed so that by that evening when everything was decorated and the cookies were baked and Geralt was on the couch looking around, he couldn’t help but smile.

Jaskier had plugged in the tree and turned off the other lights. When he came back into the living room carrying a tray, he was lit by the Christmas lights, ornaments casting off sparks that danced along the ceiling and walls sometimes fell across his face.

Oh.

Jaskier slid onto the couch, folding his legs under him as he leaned into Geralt’s side. It was as natural as breathing the way Geralt’s arm wrapped around him, pulling him a bit closer. Jaskier had already put on the Muppet Christmas movie and would hear no protests about it.

“It’s a classic and you’ve never seen it and I can’t let that continue!” He sipped his hot chocolate as he snuggled closer.

It was peaceful even as Jaskier hummed most of the tunes under his breath. Geralt didn’t remember turning to look at Jaskier or how long he had been staring. When Jaskier looked up at him though, he couldn’t bring himself to look away again.

He set down his mug and carefully took Jaskier’s as well, setting it down beside his own. When had it gotten this easy to just lean into all the things he had wanted since he had moved in with his best friend almost a year ago? And that’s exactly what he did. He leaned in, his hands coming up to cradle Jaskier’s face gently as he kissed him hesitantly, giving him all the room to back out in case… in case…

Jaskier froze for a moment, long enough for Geralt to nearly lose his nerve. He nearly pulled away when frantic hands came up to cover his own, holding them there. Jaskier gave a strangled kind of laugh before pushing up into Geralt’s space and kissing him breathless.

He pulled away, chuckling for a moment, pressing his forehead to Geralt’s. He had tasted of hot chocolate and sugar cookies and Geralt would never be able to taste those again without feeling like his heart was going to pound out of his chest. “Had I known that was all it was going to take for you to finally kiss me, I would have done this all in July.”

Geralt snorted, biting Jaskier’s bottom lip gently. He adjusted them on the couch, splaying them out so that Jaskeir was pressed against his chest, partly on top of him as they resumed the movie though now it was easy to let the peace that was taking hold. He didn’t remember falling asleep like that but he was awoken by Jaskier’s voice.

“Geralt?”

“Hmm?”

There was a kiss pressed to his chin and he couldn’t help but smile and chase after those lips. “Merry Christmas, darling.”

#geraskier #the witcher #modern au #christmas au #geralt of rivia #jaskier #and they were roommates #fluff #prompt fill #this took a fucking age #i am so so sorry

111 notes · View notes

tetsurouskuro · 5 years ago

Text

Sweet Temptations

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol, swearing, violence, mentions of drugs, dom!kuroo, mafia!au haikyuu, smut, sexual tension, orgasm denial, spitting, spanking (with a belt and hand), hair pulling and other stuff i may have forgotten

word count: 9,654

tag list: @iwaqchan @myherowritings (message me if you want to be added)

a/n: forgive me father for i have sinned!! ok, so i saw THIS! picture of kuroo and all i could think about was “i need to write a mafia!au with kuroo” and here i am and oh god i hope it’s good because it sounded so good in my head and to put everything down to words is on another level!! in this story all of the characters (and you) are a bit older, around 25-ish! also, a big thank you to Sof aka @myherowritings for helping me through with this and listening to my ranting and stuff... anyways... feedback is always appreciated and i hope you guys enjoy it! <3

Synopsis: Kuroo is the grandson of Nekomata Yasufumi, from the Nekoma mafia clan. You’re the granddaughter of Ukai Ikkei, from the Karasuno mafia clan. A arranged marriage between the two of you would mean that two big mafia clans would be able to work together and get even bigger and cover more ground in Japan, but there’s only one thing stopping this from happening... Kuroo and you...

MASTERLIST!

≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪

Scotch whiskey in his hand, two ice cubes in the glass he twirled it around with his wrist while his other hand was pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes shut tightly as he tried to listen to Kenma, his righthand man talk about the current sales going around and how the next shipping was going for the states. Kuroo had one hell of a headache, and not because of the alcohol, no. He was anxious about meeting his boss, his grandfather; Nekomata Yasufumi.

“Kuroo, are you even listening to me?” Kenma sighed at his boss and best friend.

“No.” He answered bluntly, but truthfully. Not looking at the man in front of him.

“What's the matter? We need to get the shipping out soon and there's still a lot of people who haven't paid up our dealers.”

Kuroo opened his eyes, looked at Kenma as he drowned the scotch, the whiskey burning his throat, making his abdomen warm from the liquor. Taking a deep breath, he spoke calmly to Kenma.

“Don't worry about me and send Lev to the dealers. You can always trust a Russian around these kinds of things.” Kuroo stood up from his seat behind the big mahogany desk and walked around it to stand in front of his friend, placing his left hand on Kenma's left shoulder. “Fix it. I have some matters to take care of.”

“Of course, boss.”

≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪

Knocking on the big wooden door, he heard his grandfather speak, giving him the go to come in. Opening the door, Kuroo walked in, his legs carrying him inside with confident steps. The room was beautifully decorated. On the left wall was a built-in bookshelf. Books recorded back to the early 1700-century. To the right was a wine-red leather sofa, in front of it a rectangular coffee table. In the far corner of the room was a 1600-century Italian old-world globe bar. It stood open and two glasses were missing.

Looking in front of him, his grandfather was sitting behind a similar mahogany desk that he had in his office. Two chairs stood in front of the desk. Walking over Kuroo unbuttoned his suit jacket and took a seat in one of them, sighing in the process. Nekomata watching his only grandson, he could tell that the young man in front of him was stiff.

“Relax, son. What are you so worried about?”

“Ojii-chan,” was all Kuroo spoke. Nekomata placed a tumbler in front of him and Kuroo, each glass was half full.

“I didn't call you to talk business son. I wanted to talk to you about the Ukai's.” This made Kuroo perch up.

“Oh?”

“You know that you're marrying Ukai Ikkei's granddaughter in a couple of weeks, right?”

“Yeah, I know. It's an agreement our parents made before they died.” Both yours and Kuroo's parents had died when both of you were 5 years old, him being 7. Both Nekomata and Ukai did not want their grandchildren to be put in any foster home, so they took you in.

“Correct.” Nekomata pushed one of the half full glasses to Kuroo and both men brought them up to their lips, taking a sip. Kuroo started to think about his fiancée. Did she like whiskey or brandy? Truth to be told, he did not care. It also showed how little he knew about his soon-to-be wife. He did not know anything significant about her, other than her name and birthday. Everything else, Ukai Ikkei had kept buried. There were no pictures of you anywhere. No social media accounts or driver license. Nothing. You were like a ghost to him. If he did not know any better, he would've thought you didn't exist.

But it made sense, though. Kuroo would have done the same if he had a daughter. Family was everything. It was one thing his grandfather had drilled into his and the other members heads since they were children.

“There has been some change of plans. She's on her way here now.”

“What?”

“You heard. Ukai and I talked and come to the agreement that she should come here now and the two of you should get to know each other.” Kuroo didn't want to get married. He didn't want to marry you. He wanted to have the freedom of not being tied down to one woman.

But he also wanted to honor his family. Mostly his grandfather. Nekomata Yasufumi had done everything he could for Kuroo. At the age of 5, he had learned the truth about what his family was doing. At the age of six, he had learned how to fire of a gun, being skilled already at that young age. But most importantly, he had learned that blood is thicker than water. Family was everything. Absolute.

“You need to stop fucking that whore you bring around so much,” this made Kuroo smirk. Natasha, the whore Nekomata was talking about was the girl Kuroo had by his bed to pleasure him. She wasn't good looking, or smart for that matter, but that wasn't why Kuroo kept her. She had a good throat and a nice cunt.

“I'll get rid of her. I know what our agreement says.”

“Infidelity. Keep that snake in your pants.” Kuroo laughed at his grandfather.

“If I have to throw a paper bag over her while I fuck her, then I'll do it, Ojii-chan.”

“End it, now.” Kuroo stands up and throws back the rest of his whiskey.

“I will. When is she here?”

“They're already on the road, so approximately three hours. Don't be late.”

“I won't.” Kuroo stands up and is just about to leave when Nekomata hands him a big file.

“Read it. Yamamoto broke through their firewall and got a hold of their records.” Kuroo smirks at his grandfather and exits the room. The day couldn't get any better now.

≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪

“Yuu, what are you doing?”

“Huh? Oh! I'm playing a game.”

“Now? You're supposed to read the map!”

“Well, last time I checked it was still 5 miles left until the next exit!”

“Guys. Please I'm trying to read back here...”

“Sorry boss!”

Sighing at the two men in the front seat, you skimmed through the files that your grandfather had handed you (he and his goddamn files). There it was all the information about your future husband and the rest of his family.

“I can't believe Nekoma almost tripled their profits in less than a year,” you spoke loudly. Not really expecting one of the two men in the front seat to answer.

“They've also somehow gotten their drugs into Nohebi territories. Mexico, Russia, and the damn States. They have networks going through most of East Asia, those city boys.” Tanaka states and you laugh at his nickname for the Nekoma.

“Soon it'll be yours too, boss,” Nishinoya turns around in his seat to look at you and gives you reassuring smile.

“That's if he accepts the last-minute change in the contract,” you answer him back.

“You mean, where you demand to be kept informed and in agreement with his future decisions involving the business?” Tanaka laughs. “It'll be interesting to see his reaction.”

“It will be indeed. I allowed them to hack into our records also earlier today.” The men laugh at that. Not because it's funny, no. They laugh because Nekoma thought they had you now. Or so they thought.

≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪

“I'm telling you boss, they won't dare step another foot in our territory again,” Lev spoke as he took a sip of his can of soda.

“Good. Anything else? I need to get going soon. Kenma you're in charge while I'm gone.”

“Wait, where are you going?” Lev asked while Kenma just nodded as he read through some information Yamamoto had sent him earlier on his phone, his eyes never leaving the screen.

“Family business. If the Nohebi try anything else, you know what to do. No need to hold back.” Kuroo spoke with an even voice as he pulled on his suit jacket.

“By the way, boss. Are you friend with the Fukurodani boss?” Yaku spoke from his spot on the leather sofa.

“Yeah. Grew up with him. Why?” Kuroo quirked an eyebrow at the short savage.

“There's a file he sent us.”

“I'll read through it later,” Kuroo said and walked towards the door and said goodbye to the group that had formed in the basement of the hidden base. He walked to the underground garage and unlocked his jet-black Audi R8, taking a seat and speeding to the exit. Once he had turned and driven for 5 minutes, there was an incoming call, he simply connecter it to the car Bluetooth.

“Ojii-chan, I'm on my way.”

“Hurry. They're already here.”

“I figured. I'm 15 minutes away.” Hanging up, Kuroo let out a big sigh. He was not looking forward to this meeting. He wasn't looking forward to meeting you. He didn't want a wife. Yet, he wanted to know what you looked like. He was a little intrigued. He was about to spend the rest of his life with you.

Pulling up to the private road that led to the Nekoma mansion he parked the car next to a big SUV and got out. Walking towards the stairway that led him inside, he opened the door and walked in, announcing his arrival. He could hear chatter and he followed the sound of the voices, leading him into the dining room. Walking in he is met with his grandfather, a tall muscular man with a buzzcut, a short but also muscular man. The shortest had black hair, ruffled upwards. A tiny tuft of his hair falls over his forehead and is bleached dirty blond. Both men looked dangerous and he knew they were your bodyguards.

His eyes then travel to find yours and his breath hitches. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. From where he stood, he could tell you were perfection. From your wavy, (y/h/c) hair, flawless skin, and deep (y/e/c) eyes, to your perfect hourglass figure. The knee-length black dress hugged each and every one of your curves. But your ass – fuck. It was like your lips were demanded to be kissed, and Kuroo's cock demanded to have his way with you right then and there.

“It's a pleasure to finally meet you, I'm Kuroo Tetsurou,” Kuroo's eyes never leaving you. As if it only were the two of you there.

“Pleasure's all mine. You're taller than I expected.” You laugh. “I'm (y/n) (y/l/n).”

“6'2 to be exact, but who's counting.”

“Tanaka. Nishinoya. Could you leave us alone so we can go over the contract?”

“Ojii-chan?”

“Gentlemen, if you would follow me,” Nekomata speaks and Kuroo watches as the men exit the dining room, watching their backs disappear. Turning his head, he sees that you are watching him. His eyes are cold, his hazel orbs looking into yours. His facial expression is narrow, you can't read this man at all. You just stand there, watch this beautiful man in front of you and wonder what type of person he is. Is he brutal as the words are said about him back in the Miyagi prefecture?

Kuroo turns around and walks to the bar and pours himself a drink. Without turning to look at you he asks, “Would you like a drink?”

“No, thank you.” You answer him back, moving your legs to the windows. Watching and taking in the scenery. Soon this would be your new home, and behind you stood your future husband. Your fiancée, who you didn't know anything about and that was scary for you. It was one thing dealing with weapons and drugs, those were materials that you could handle and knew HOW to handle. This, Kuroo Tetsurou, was different. He had a brain, heart and soul for himself.

“How much are you involved in the business?” Kuroo speaks, turning around you see that he has taken a seat by the bar. Scanning him up and down, the black three-piece Giorgio Armani suit sits tightly around his thick thighs, arms and shoulders. The white button-down shirt is tight against his chest and abdomen, and the dark red tie is completing the look, making him look edible. He is leaning back in his seat; his elbows are bracing his weight as he slowly sips his liquor and watches you as he does it. Your panties are suddenly very, very damp but you would not let him see you this effected by just his looks. Composing yourself you answer his question.

“I oversee the weapons and drugs that come in and out of all of Miyagi. I am also in charge of selling the weapons to potential businesses, but also to send out threats and deal with any problem that may occur. It's also I who holds the annual gala and fundraising events that occur here in Tokyo for my grandfather’s business.”

“Wow. Impressive. For a woman.”

“Excuse me?”

“But you don't go out and handle clients?” Kuroo ignores your little outburst and questions you further.

“Oh. I do that too, Kuroo.”

“Interesting,” his glass is empty, and he sets it down on the bar, stands up and walks over to you. Even with your 5” heels he's still towering over your small frame. “Shall we sign the papers?”

“Have you read through the contract?”

“I've read it so many times I've memorized it now. Just sign the contract.”

“I've made some changes. You should re-read it.” Walking towards the table where the paper was lying, he picked it up and scanned the two lines that had been changed.

“You're kidding,” he snickered. “You're asking to basically babysit how I run my business?”

“Ah-ah. We are not married yet. It will be ours or there's no deal, so Kuroo Tetsurou, sign the paper and rule over both the Karasuno and Nekoma or leave it and there's no deal.” Stunned. His facial expression turns to pure hatred. To think that you were a witch. He was angered, his cock was hard, and he wanted to fuck some sense into you on the dining table.

Picking up the pen, he signed his signature next to yours. Kuroo agreed because of the honor he has for his family and wanted to please his grandfather. Yes, he would have liked you to be a wife that stayed at home, who cooked and cleaned. A wife he could fuck whenever he felt like it. But the mere thought of having you with him. Killing people together and seeing a ruthless side of you made his cock twitch in excitement.

“If you for a second think I'm gonna listen to you. You're wrong. You think you got power, but so do I so all I'm gonna say is game on, Kuroo Tetsurou.”

In mere seconds Kuroo had grabbed you, pushing you against the nearest wall. One hand bracing both of your wrists above your head and his other holding you by the throat – hard enough so you would not escape, but not hard enough so he's choking you.

“First, your joke?” he spoke, panting in your face like some lion who's about to jump his prey. “Not funny.”

“Second,” slowly lifting his hand around your throat so he's holding your cheeks now. His thumb brushed over your lips. “The very moment that ink touched that fucking paper, you were mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to fucking command, and mine to put in your fucking place.”

“And third,” he crashes his lips to yours brutally. Your body loving the sensation, but your brain screaming for you to stop him. He pulls away and continues talking. “You're gonna stop this macho behavior, sit at my side and you stay beautiful, like a lady.”

He crashes his lips against your again – sealing this deal with a kiss. Again, he pulls away and you stared at him wide-eyed. “Are you finished?”

“Not quite. I don't think I'll ever be finished with you, (y/n).” Pulling your head back and smashing it against his so he tumbles back, you gently massage your wrists at the friction, also hating the feeling of missing his body against yours.

“Touch me again and kiss me again without my permission and I'll put a bullet between your eyes when you sleep, got it?”

“Don't boss me around and throw some empty threats at me, kitten. I'll be the one who rules when we're married. You'll obey me and listen to me, got it?”

He leaves the room, slamming the door after him as he leaves. Seconds later Tanaka and Nishinoya rushes in. “What happened?”

“Nothing. I'm fine.” If Kuroo, for one second thought he had won, he was wrong. You were just getting started.

≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪

A week later you had moved your things from Miyagi all the way to Tokyo, your new home. And of course, you'd moved in into the Nekoma mansion. You had gotten your own room, which you were thankful for.

When you arrived at the mansion after all the moving staff had fixed everything around for you, you didn't expect Kuroo to be waiting for you, in your room and asking how your trip went.

“Good. I thought you only cared about your company?” Closing the door and crossing your arms over your chest you watched as he stood straight, walking with confident towards you.

“I'm not that much of an asshole.”

“You kind of are though.”

“Watch it, or I might lock you up in the basement.” The man was in front of you now, his tall frame confident and a smirk on his face. You wanted to punch it away.

“Is that how you cats treat your woman?”

“No. It's how I treat my woman when she doesn't listen to me.” This sent shivers down your spine and left your panties damp. This ruthless behavior that he had was getting dangerous. It was making your head spin, almost like you were losing consciousness.

“What makes you think I won't be able to get out?”

“Oh, I know you'll be able to get out, kitten. I just don't think you'd appreciate the outcome of it.”

“What do you know? Maybe I like getting spanked and tortured in your chambers,” just as those words left your lips his face is in front of yours.

“Is that something you want to happen?” You looked into his hazel eyes and gulped. “Because I can make it happen kitten. Just say the word.”

“Brush that smirk off of your face before I punch you in the face,” you pull him away, but the man barely moves. Just as he's about to say something there's a knock on the door. The door opens and a tall man with light grey hair walks in.

“Excuse me boss, but they're waiting for you in the basement.”

“Thanks Lev, I'll be right there.”

“Wait, what's going on?” You watched as the man, Lev, leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

“Nothing for you to worry about, kitten. I'll see you tonight,” he leaves a sweet kiss on your cheek as he straightens up, turns around and heads to the door.

“Tonight?”

“Yeah, tonight. Dinner. You and me. 6PM. Don't be late.” He opens and exits the door, without uttering another word. Leaving you standing in the middle of your room, staring at the door and wondering what just happened. You were irritated, but also hot and bothered. How was tonight gonna end?

≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪

Walking down the stone staircase that would lead you to the patio where Kuroo was waiting for you in high heels was a challenge, but you were no woman that takes them off. You accepted every challenge that came your way.

You decided to wear a off-shoulder floor length black dress with a side slit. Your hair pulled into a tight ponytail and some nude smokey eye makeup, making you look like the boss that you were.

When you reached the patio, Kuroo was sitting by the far end of the table and waiting. His eyes locked on the phone as he kept typing something. The sound of a chair being pulled back made him look up and lock eyes with you. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants at the sight of you.

A young girl, probably working for Kuroo had pulled out the chair for you. You took him in as you sat yourself down. Dress shoes (probably), black pants, a black button-down shirt, the first button undone and a suit jacket. If you thought you were hot and bothered before, your panties said a completely different story now as they were drenched.

“You look beautiful, kitten.”

“Thanks. You look rather dashing yourself, Kuroo.” He smirked at you and lifted two fingers, signaling for the girl to leave you two alone. Once she leaves, Kuroo takes a sip from his glass, his eyes gazing into yours.

“So, Kuroo. Are you gonna tell me where you went earlier?”

“It's nothing for you to worry about. I handled it.”

“It doesn't matter. If we're gonna get married and rule this 'empire' together you need to meet me halfway.”

“I don't have to do a thing. I tell you what I want to tell you and if I want to tell you.” Standing up, he walks towards the other end of the table where you're sat and stops at your side, slowly lowering his head so his lips are brushing against your ear. “And one of these days, you won't be able to say no to me. I'll fuck you so hard that you want me to stop.”

Gulping, squeezing your thighs together and the way his voice and words were making your body shiver of excitement, but also wanting to punch him for thinking he had some kind of mastership of you. Taking a deep breath, you collected yourself to answer him.

“I want in on this too. If someone is messing up with my business, or my stuff I want that sucker to feel pain because no one fucks with me; not even you. So, you're gonna start treating my like your wife and business partner or I'll find that marriage agreement and rip it apart.”

“And what would happen if I don't agree with you?” His breath hits your neck as you can feel his breathing beside you. His lips come down on your neck and you close your eyes for a brief second, loving the sensation, but opening them fast as you can't let him have his way. Not yet anyway. You need to stand your ground and show him that you're just as stubborn as he is.

“If you don't agree. I'll break off this fucking arrangement and then burn you to the ground.” Turning your head to look at him, you see him smile at you. His face mere inches from yours.

“One of Nohebi's men were caught trying to steal some of my cocaine and Lev, the man you saw earlier, caught him and tied him up in the basement. I beat him to the pulp, cut off two of his fingers and then sent him to his boss, with a sweet message.”

“And I couldn't be there because?”

“Because this was my shit to handle and I had something else I wanted to do before I did that.”

“Which was?”

“Gimmie your hand,” reaching out your left hand for him, he pulls on a big fat juicy diamond engagement on your ring finger.

“Buying that. I'm not liking this with letting you in on my business, 'kay? This is all new to me, but I will slowly let you in. Not entirely, but eventually everything that's mine... will be yours. Ours.”

“Kuroo, I-”

“But listen to me carefully. Now that you have that ring it means that you are mine. All mine. You will listen to me and do as I say. When I want to fuck you, you will let me. If you do as I say, I will reward you and... I will also give you what you want. In return.”

He pulls away from you and you watch as he turns around and walks back to his seat.

“Now, (y/n). Are you hungry? 'Cause I am starving.”

≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪

“I'm going to New York tomorrow to do some business with a friend of mine. I'll be back on Friday.”

“I can't come with you?”

“No. Not this time.”

Sighing at him you nod your head. You accept; for now. “Okay.”

You feel him push your back against the door to your room, both of your hands behind your back, him holding them in place as his lips are just inches from yours. “Good girl. Finally, you listen to me. Why you gotta be so disobedient?”

“'Cause life would be boring for you if I wasn't,” you manage to squeeze those words, just in time for his lips to crash against yours. Your head tilted back as you welcome his tongue into your mouth. Tasting both the liquor and food from him. His body comes closer and you can feel his rock-hard cock press against your lower abdomen.

“I am the only one who gets to touch you and make you come, you got that?” You just nodded your head.

Good. Now you should get some sleep. I'll see you when I get back.” And just like that, he leaves you, leaving one last kiss on your lips. Not wanting to seem totally desperate for him, you open the door to your room, walk in and close it, leaning your back against it. Feeling your own arousal, you decide to do something about it. Walking towards your bedside table, you open your drawer and pull out your purple dildo and climb onto the bed.

If you can't have Kuroo's cock now, at least you could imagine it was him fucking you instead of that dildo of yours.

≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪

The next morning you get woken up by the birds chirping outside your bedroom window. The sun shines through the curtains and hits you in the face, making you scrunch your face in disgust; you were not a morning person.

Stretching yourself on the big king-size bed you hear some strange sound and look to your left, seeing a white-yellowish envelope. Sitting up, you reach for it and open it, pulling out a paper, a handwritten note and start reading.

Good morning kitten, the fact that you touched yourself yesterday without my permission has my blood boiling. I told you that only I am allowed to touch you and make you come.

So, for being so disobedient, I've taken all of your toys and burned them all up. No need for you to have them when you have me, right?

Be a good girl and listen to your fiancé, if you want to come just call me and I'll fix it for you.

If I find out that you've been touching yourself without my permission again, I'll punish you when I get back. I've got eyes and ears everywhere.

I'll see you on Friday, kitten.

That fucking bastard.

You scrunched the piece of paper and threw it on the ground. Throwing yourself off the bed and pulling on your nightgown you are just about to head to the nearest staff member when your phone rings, knowing full well who it was.

“What do you want?” You answer angrily.

“I take it you've read my letter?”

“Oh, I've read it and I'm just about to burn it.”

“Ouch, kitten. My first love letter for you and you're already breaking my heart,” you could hear his smirking on the line and wanted to punch his pretty face.

“If this is breaking your heart, then you're easily pleased.”

“Oh, kitten. I am no-where pleased. I'll be pleased when I got you on my bed and my cock deep inside that cunt of yours,” you shivered at his words and could feel a tingling sensation in your lower abdomen, knowing full well what he was doing to you. He was gonna be gone for 5 days, meaning he had 5 days to tease you and if he continued like this then these 5 days were gonna be hell, especially if you could not touch yourself.

“You'll have to wait a long while for that to happen, Tetsurou.”

“The way you say my name kitten, next time you'll be screaming it,” a little laugh escapes his lips. “I need to go, just arrived at the jet. Don't miss me too much, when I get back, I'll have my way with you.”

He hangs up and you throw yourself on the bed. If you thought you could deny him much longer, you were dead wrong. You wanted him yesterday. You wanted him today; you wanted him now.

A knock on the door woke you up from your Kuroo thoughts. “Come in.”

The door opened and in walked one of your closest friends.

“Oh my god Daichi,” you jumped out of bed and into his arms. “What are you doing here?”

“Is that how you greet everyone? Just kidding. The old man sent me here to keep an eye on you.”

“Keep an eye on me? Why?”

“To make sure that the wedding happens. We all know how you've treated your other boyfriends.”

“I'm not gonna kill this one, okay?”

“I believe it when I see it,” Daichi laughs and you pout at him. “How's he? Kuroo?”

“Ugh, he's a sexist. A possessive and dominant bastard that looks down on woman.”

“But? I feel like a but is coming.”

“BUT... he's a sexy motherfucker that is teasing me and giving me all of these sexual desires that I haven't felt before and I've never wanted to fuck and kill someone as fast and hard as with him.”

“Seems like you've got it under control then?”

“Yeah. He's on his way to New York and will be back on Friday.”

“And when he gets back? What are you gonna do?”

“Nothing. Or maybe. No, I don't know. These emotions and feelings that are erupting from me is something new. I want him, all the love and hate. But I'm also scared because opening up to someone is dangerous in our business.”

“Oh, I know darling, but he's in this business as well and he's worse than you. I've met Kuroo before with the old man and when he loved and cares for something, he puts all of his heart into it. So, if something were to happen to you, he'd be sure to put a bullet on that bastard.”

“He thinks I'm his property, like I'm not a human being.”

“(y/n), we're the mafia and we protect our own and soon you'll be each other’s. He's gonna be your husband soon. Accept it.”

“What am I gonna do then? When he gets back?”

“You'll have to wait and see.”

≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪

It had gone two days since you last saw and spoke to Kuroo. You thought of him all the time. You even started to wear a elastic band around your wrist and snapped it every time you thought of him, but you had started to turn red because you were basically snapping your wrist all the time so you gave that up pretty quickly.

Now, you stood in front of your ensuite, brushing your hair and getting ready for bed. It was 1 am in Tokyo. 12 pm in New York. You didn't want to call him. Calling him meant that you thought about him, which you did but, it was different.

The sound of your phone vibrating against the marble counter made you jump as your thoughts had wandered to him once again.

“Hello?”

“Kitten. Why aren't you sleeping?”

“I was just getting ready for bed, but a very disturbing person called me, and I wanted to see what he wanted.”

“Sounds like an interesting man to me.”

“I'm sure he does... what do you want?”

“There should be a package coming for you about... now.” A knock on your bedroom door could be heard and you walked out of the ensuite and opened the door. There on the ground was a white package with a black ribbon around it.

“What's this?”

“Open it.”

“I will. But what is it?”

“Open it. You'll see, kitten.” Rolling your eyes, you closed the door behind you and placed Kuroo on speaker and threw the phone on your bed, the white package beside him. Pulling on the black string, the ribbon came undone and you lifted the lid and gasped.

“Kuroo... this is...”

“Put them on.”

“What? No!”

“Do. It.”

“Kuroo...”

“(y/n)... do as I say.”

You sighed and finally gave in. You pulled your panties down your legs and then put on the new ones. Kuroo had someone deliver a pair of vibrating panties. “Now what?”

“Now. Lay down on the bed. Put me on speaker and then place the phone beside.” You climbed onto the bed and did as he said.

“Done.”

“Good. Now kitten, tell me about your day.”

“My day? I went with Tanaka, Nishinoya and Dai- OH GOD!” Suddenly the panties started to vibrate.

“Hm? What was that?” The vibrating stopped and you gasped. That little fucker.

“I said. I went with Tanaka, Nishinoya and Daichi to the mall and bought some-fuck, Jesus, shit... s-some dresses.” The vibrating started again. The sensation hitting your clit perfectly, making your hips buck at the feeling. But also, wishing it was his fingers instead of some material rubbing against your sensitive bud.

“Some dresses huh? What kind of dresses?”

“Pretty ones.” You answered bluntly. You didn't want to talk. You just wanted to feel. And come.

“Kitten...” Kuroo's voice sounded dark and the vibrations stopped once again. You instantly missed the feeling. “Behave.”

“They're all different. Long, mid-thigh, short and so on. You'll see them when you get back.”

“Oh, will I?” Kuroo started the vibrations again, but this time he had increased the speed, making you moan out.

“Fuck.”

“Does it feel good, kitten. Do you want more?”

“Fuck, yes,” you answered him with a moan. Your hands fisting the duvet cover, eyes closed, mouth open and your head thrown back. Your back slightly bent and your knees pulled up. You weren't near close but as for having been horny for at least a week now, you just wanted to come. The release you got on the night before he decided to burn all your sex toys hadn't satisfied you enough.

“What do you want, kitten? Tell me.”

“Fuck, I want you. I want your cock.”

“Oh? Really?”

“Yes, really. You dumb fuck. Oh god, Kuroo.” He increased the speed once more and now you felt how your lower abdomen was tightening. “So close.”

“Good kitten. Now you've made me a very happy man. You wanna come?”

“Fuck, yes. Let me fucking come already.” The pressure started to keep getting stronger and stronger.

“I don't think so, kitten.” He turns it off. The pressure in your lower abdomen slowly started to fade but you still wanted to come. You didn't give a fuck anymore.

“What the fuck, Kuroo?”

“I'm the one who decides when and how you come. Don't forget that.”

“I'm not taking orders from you. Stupid sexist of a man. If you're not gonna finish it for me, I'll do it myself.”

“(y/n). Don't. You. Dare.”

“Or what? Are you gonna punish me? When? You're not here. I'll finish myself off without you.” Grabbing your phone, you clicked him. Putting an end to the call.

He had the audacity to boss you around, to think he could decide for you. No. You weren't going to listen to him. You pulled off the panties he gave you and stomped to the bathroom and threw them in the trash-can.

Stomping back to the bed, you pulled away the duvet cover and climbed into bed. Looking at your phone you saw a text message from him, and a picture.

Opening the message, you bit your lower lip, seeing what he sent you.

On the picture was Kuroo. He was stood in front of a mirror in just his briefs. Grabbing his cock through the briefs, seeing as it was hard underneath the material. Just from the picture you could tell that he was big, and that made your mouth water.

Underneath the picture was his message.

I'm so hard for you kitten.

I'M WET FOR YOU. You wanted to reply but didn't. You were still pissed off and you wouldn't let him get away easily. You had a plan how to get back at him. Alas, he was gonna kill you for it.

≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪

It was finally Friday. You had put on one of the new dressed that you'd bought. It was a short golden cocktail dress with a bare back. Your hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. A pair of high heels and a makeup look that suited the outfit made you look fuckable.

You had asked Kiyoko and Hitoka to go clubbing with you, which they didn't say no to.

Also, you knew Kuroo would be home late and when he would find out you were out clubbing and other men being able to see you looking like that, he was going to murder either you, the men, or both.

Besides having the two girls with you, you also had Daichi and Tanaka at your side as bodyguards. One thing your grandfather always told you was to always bring them with you whenever you could. Walking up to the club, the bouncers didn't ask for your name, they just moved aside and let you and your company inside. You could feel the ground shaking from the loud music that was blasting from the speakers. It was crowded, as expected for a Friday night. "Be careful boss," Tanaka spoke to you and you smiled at him.

"I will. I'll kill anyone who tries to lay a hand on me." "We know. But be careful," Daichi spoke next. "(Y/n)? Let's go dance," Kiyoko said and interrupted the conversation between the three of you, grabbed yours and Hitoka's hand and pulled the both of you into the dancefloor. The three of you stood in the middle of the dancefloor and moved your bodies to the music. After about 20 minutes it was time for some drinking. Hitoka went to look for an empty table while Kiyoko went to fetch some drinks. Just as you were about to join Hitoka you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around you see a tall man, well-built and quite good looking. But he wasn't Kuroo. "Hi, I promised myself that if you were ever to be alone, I'd come and say hello cause you might be one of the prettiest woman I've ever laid eyes on." "Thank you, that's very... sweet. Of. You." Your voice trailed off as behind the man you could see a face you hadn't seen in a while and that face was staring at yours. Kuroo stood by the exit door, both arms by his side and both of his fists clammed together tight. He was angry. He was fuming. He was seeing red. And, to make matters ever worse. You grabbed the stranger by his neck, pulled him down so you could say into his ear "let's dance". Grabbing the strangers hand you pull him farther into the dancefloor, farther away from Kuroo and on queue the song "Love Sex Magic" by Ciara and Justin Timberlake starts playing and you decide to start dancing sexually with the man. Your ass is rubbing teasingly at the stranger’s crotch as his hands are placed on your hips. But they leave you soon and you know why, because soon the stranger is being pulled away from you and you're being dragged across the dancefloor and to the exit. The cold air hits your body as Kuroo is still dragging you until you reach his car. He opens the passenger seats door. "Get in." "I think not. I'm here with my friends and I wanna party, so thanks but no thanks." "(Y/n). Get. In. The. Fucking. Car. NOW!" You decide to listen because; a) he's really pissed and b) your plan had worked out wonderfully. Taking a seat, you buckle up as Kuroo slams the door shut and walks around to sit in the driver’s seat. Kuroo quickly starts the car and speeds away. He drives in silence. The both of you are keeping your mouths shut and it's for the better. "Kuroo, I-" "Shut up. Keep quiet. Don't fucking talk to me right now," he interrupts you. His knuckles turning white from the hard grip he's having on the steering wheel.

You sat quiet in your seat, looking out as you passed the city. The city lights shining on the road. But it was when Kuroo drove into a underground garage that had you stiff in your seat. Where was he taking you? He parked the car and got out quickly. He walked around to your side and opened the car door for you. "Out." You placed both of your feet on the ground and got up, doing it seductively, almost flashing your panties to him. Once you were stable enough on the ground, he grabbed you hand, hard, and pulled you away with him. He was walking fast, a little too fast for your liking. "Kuroo, slow down I can't walk that fast in these heels." "Oh, I'm sorry," you feel yourself being pushed against the cement wall of the garage, his hand around your throat. "Maybe you should've thought about that before you decided to dress up as a whore and go acting like one in one of my clubs." Even though you should be scared, you're not. You're wet by this action of his. The grip around your throat isn't hard, just firm. Like he's holding you in place. You're breathing heavily, your chest moving up and down. Your hard nipples are pressing against the fabric of your dress. "Your club?" Are the words that escape your lips. "Yes. My club. Do you know the frustration I got when I land and get a phone call from my staff there telling me that my fiancée just walked in wearing nothing but a garment around her," his free hand travel from inside your thighs to your core where you want him to touch you. "Would've you have liked anyone else touching you here, is that it?" His fingers teasing you outside of your panties. "Did you want that man touching you, is that it kitten? Or were you thinking that his hands were mine?" Now his fingers flick slightly at your sensitive bud outside of your panties. "N-No," you moan out. "No?" He withdraws from you and starts walking towards the entrance of the building, his hand in yours. You reach a small elevator, inside there's a keypad, he presses some numbers and the doors starts closing. There's tension in the air that could be cut with a knife. You release his hand and cross your arms over your chest and keep looking at him, taking him in. The suit he's wearing looks so good on him. Your eyes travel down to his crotch. You can see the outline of his hard cock.

"Are you just gonna stand there and watch?" The elevator starts to move up, the numbers getting higher in the small screen both above the doors and on the keypads. You still haven't answered him. You still keep looking at his crotch seductively. Kuroo starts moving towards you. You stand still and watch his feet get closer until they're in front of you. "Do you wanna touch it?" You slowly move your head upwards and look into his eyes. They're very intense and hard. Dark even. If looks could kill... Placing your hands on his hips you move them upwards to his chest, feeling his warm and hard muscles underneath, still not breaking eye contact. You slowly back away, being free from him for a second before he pulls you towards him; chest against chest. "Kitten... when your entire life is based on taking everything by force, it's hard to react in a different way. Especially if someone is taking away a pleasure you really desire..." His breath hits you in the face. "Don't provoke me." "Or what?" He presses you hard against the elevator mirror. Both of your hands above your head, his hand holding them in place while his other hand is grabbing your ass cheek. His tongue is invading yours and you welcome it, letting his tongue dance with yours. Tasting whiskey and mint from him. Suddenly the elevator car stops and the pulls away and sets you free, but only to grab your hand and pull you inside an apartment and slam you onto the wall beside the elevator. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to feel your legs for days." "K-Kuroo," you moan out as he starts kissing your throat. "When I fuck you, I want you to call me by my name." His words send shivers down your spine, making your nipples perk harder than before. Kuroo's hands grabs the hem of your dress and rips it apart and throws it behind him, the golden garment landing on the floor. "Kuroo, what the actual fuck?" "I'll buy you a new one," his lips travel to your naked breasts and he starts sucking on your right nipple, making you moan out and throw your head back against the wall. Suddenly he has you in the air and you wrap your legs around his waist, his arms holding you in place and his mouth back on yours as he walks you towards the living room and then into a kitchen. One of his arms lets you go and he throws something, or some things off the kitchen island, the sound of glass breaking on the floor. "I'll have someone clean that up later," he places you on the island and pushes your chest down so you're lying with your back against it. His arms grab your hips and pulls them towards him, your ass being on the edge of the island. "Now... What should we do with you?" He asks with a smirk on his face, his gaze being planted on your pelvis and going down. His fingers trace the edge of your panties, teasing you. Suddenly there's a a sharp dig in your hips and the sound of your panties being torn apart. "You won't be needing them anyway," his lips starts kissing around your areola. "Stop teasing me and just fuck me already," you moan out. Grabbing a hold of his messy hair in your hands. "You don't deserve being fucked just yet," he answers and grabs your thighs and starts kissing down your abdomen and to your core.

His tongue flick at your sensitive bud, making you jump from the friction; both good and bad. Usually, you didn't let men go down on you, you saw it as a type of weakness. A weakness you didn't want and liked showing. But now, here you were spread out naked on a kitchen island while Kuroo sucked on your clit making you shiver, moan and pull on his hair and wanting more. More than you've ever wanted before in your life. Losing control, a control you wanted back but also didn't. "F-Fuck. Kuroo. I- Stop. Shit," you sounded like a confused mess. A mess that Kuroo loved, but he wanted you messier. "Stop? Why? Because you can't control your own body? Oh, kitten... you lost control over your body the minute you became mine." Kuroo's tongue licks up and down your slit, spreading your juices all over. Tasting every bit of you. He then pulls back, and his thumb start to do slow circular motions on your clit. "What do you want, kitten?" "More. I want more." "More of what?" "More of you." "And who am I, kitten? Tell me," his thumb presses a little harder on your clit. Your back arching as the sudden pressure developing in your lower abdomen. "Fuuuuck. I-. Dammit Kuroo." "Not the answer I'm looking for," he stops paying attention to your clit. He stops paying attention to you at all. He just looks at you, waiting for his answer. "Do you always get what you want?" "Isn't it obvious that I do? Now answer my question. Who am I?" "Well. You're a lot of things. An asshole. A sadist. A sexist. A killer. A murderer. A drug lord. A possessive fucked up douche of a man." He then stands up straight and pulls off his suit jacket and throws it on the ground nearby. Then, his fingers start slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt, your eyes gazing at his fingers as they move down and suddenly, he's half naked as he discards his shirt as well. "Get off the island. Turn around and bend over. Spread your legs. NOW!" You take your time getting down, doing it so seductively as you can. His eyes watch your tits jump when you land on the floor and then quickly travel to your ass when you're bent over. "And now what? You gonna spank me?" You let out a small laugh but silence yourself when you hear him unbuckle his belt and remove it from his belt loops. "Spanking to put it mildly. Now, how many times have you disobeyed me?" "Disobeyed? Who do you think-" the harsh pain of his belt hitting your ass cheek has you both stiff and wanting more. "That's one. I think you at least deserve 5 more, kitten." His belt hits you again. And again. And again, until he's hit you 6 times in total. Your ass cheeks red from the friction of the belt hitting you. Your pussy leaking put juices from being so wet from the action. "Hands behind your back," he commands, and you obey, putting your hands behind your back. Kuroo takes the belt and tightens them around your wrists. Once he's done, he takes a step back to admire you from a distance, taking you in. Completely naked, only in those high heels that he wants you to wear while he fucks you. To stab into his lower back while his cock sinks into your folds. "Fucking perfect," he states and gets behind you again and pushes one finger inside your cunt. Your walls clamping around his finger. Wanting more. Needing more. "Fuck. Kuroo. Please."

”Please what kitten?”

“Please, fuck me. Just fuck me already.” He adds yet another finger inside your cunt and starts pumping them in and out of you.

“Say my name, kitten. Say it.”

“Kuroo.” A slap on your ass cheek and you let out a loud moan from both his fingers giving you pleasure but also from the slap from his hand.

“Say. My. Name.”

“Fuck. Tetsurou. Fuck me Tetsu-Oh my god!” Another slap and his fingers disappear only to be replaced by his cock filling you up all the way.

“Fuck you’re so tight. I can feel you pulsing around me (y/n).” You try pulling your arms but are stopped by the belt holding them together.

“Kur- Tetsurou. Release me. Fuck you’re huge.”

“No and thank you.” He starts slowly thrusting in and out of you. The head of his cock hitting your g-spot softly, building up a pressure inside of you.

“T-Tetsurou. Shit, your cock. Oh.”

“I love it when you say my name. Say it again.”

“Tetsurou.” You moan out. One of his hands grab your ponytail and the other is placed on the middle of your back, pushing you down on the island. His grip on your ponytail tightens and he pulls on it, your head being pulled up slightly. He then starts to quicken his thrusts.

“Fuck kitten, just like that.” Kuroo’s gaze is locked on where the two of you are connected. Seeing his cock disappearing inside of you, going in and out. His cock being covered in your juices. A squelching sound being made from the friction.

“Tetsu. I’m close. Fuck I’m so close.”

“Yes (y/n). Come for me. Come all over my cock.” This does it for you. After almost a whole week of him teasing you, all the moments of sexual tension and him neglecting to make you come this is one of the biggest orgasms you’ve ever had.

“TETSUROU!” You scream. Your mouth wide open, eyes closed and tears falling from your eyes. The pleasure consumes you and you feel your legs wobble and just as you’re about to fall his arms are being wrapped around you, holding you up. Your breathing is heavy and trying to control it, as you move a little you feel him twitch inside of you.

“I’m not finished with you yet, kitten.” You gulp and release a moan as he removes himself from you. His hands go to unbuckle the belt and once you are free you rub your wrists together and slowly turn around to watch the devil in front of you. He is naked and your eyes falls on his hard member between his legs. Your tongue peeks out from your mouth and wets your lips, licking them seductively.

“C’mere,” he speaks, and you obey, walking so you are stood in front of him. Your heels clicking against the hardwood floor. His slightly bends down and picks you up, your legs wrapping themselves around his waist and your arms around his neck. Your lips connect and he walks the both of you towards his bedroom. He places you on his bed and you lie down.

“You’re fucking beautiful (y/n),” he compliments you and you slightly blush. How could this man’s words affect you this much?

His hands grab your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the bed, your legs in the air. He bends down and his head is between your legs. He spreads them wide open and starts devouring your opening. Your hands go and grab a hold of his black hair and watch as his mouth is covering your most private part, his eyes watching you.

“Tetsurou. Please give me your cock. I need more.” At first you think he doesn’t hear you over your moans but soon he pulls back and to your surprise he looks at your cunt and spits on it.

“You taste fucking delicious,” he doesn’t give it a second chance as he pushed himself inside of you again. You throw your head back against his bed and moan out loudly. He pulls your legs together and press them against his chest, hugging them as he thrusts hard in you, like some wild animal. The pressure in your lower abdomen coming back like a tsunami.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Tetsu, I’m close again. I’m coming. I’m- I- FUCK,” and you come around his cock for a second time in just mere seconds.

“Fuck (y/n). I’m there.”

“Come inside of me.”

“(Y/N)!!” Kuroo releases his load inside of you. Milking his seed inside of you. His head thrown back, a vein of each side of his neck popping out. His mouth is slightly open as he lets out a couple of grunts from his orgasm.

After a minute or two, after the both of you have collected yourself his eyes search for your as he looks at you. Releasing your legs, he throws himself on top of you, one arm going to your lower back and lifting you up so your head is on a pillow. His head lands beside yours. The only sound in the room being the heavy breathing from the two of you. His breath is hitting you in the neck, making you shiver.

“Are you cold?”

“Oh- Um- No. Not really. Are you?”

“Me? I’m fucking sweaty and hot as hell.” You let out a laugh and can’t help but smile. His cock that is still inside of you twitch and you stop laughing.

“Your laugh is beautiful. Don’t stop.”

“Hm, well I stopped because someone twitched inside of me.”

“Oh, really?” He pulls his head up, his hazel eyes watching your (y/e/c) ones. His hips starts to move slightly.

“Mhm, Tetsu.”

“You want more?”

“Mhm, yes.” He places his forearms on each side of your head, his face being inches from yours. His lips crash against yours, him pushing his tongue inside of your mouth and you happily open and let him consume you again. If sex with Kuroo was like this, you never wanted him to stop and he didn’t.

The two of you fucked like two horny teenagers until the sun rose the next morning. After coming for what felt like the 20th time the both of you were both breathless and tired from all the fucking.

“Tetsurou. I want this to work between the two of us so please include me in everything you do, and I mean everything. I don’t want to kill you because this sex got me hooked now.”

Letting out a sigh he watched the ceiling and answers with a simple I’ll try. And that’s enough for you. He pulls you towards him, your back to his front.

“Let’s sleep. You need to recharge the energy you lost.”

“Why? Are we going somewhere?”

“No. But when we wake up, I’m gonna have my way with you again.” You gulp but smile. Closing your eyes and letting sleep consume you.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu smut #haikyu smut #kuroo tetsuro smut #kuroo tetsurou smut

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sassooda · 4 years ago

Text

Worlds Away JJK AU / Chapter 37 - Destined for Greatness

w/c - 7,731

Suguru has been lying in bed for hours now as his mind wanders through his past and imagines different scenarios for the future. He sighs as he tosses and turns for the thousandth time, facing away from his door while his gaze takes to his new quarters that are viewable from this angle. This is by far the cheeriest room he has ever called his own. The walls are a warm yellow, the floors of solid hardened red clay and all of the matching furniture a light wood. His eyes take to the closed curtains with long thick white drapes, ‘This is so fucking annoying…’, he mumbles knowing there’s not even a window behind it, there’s no way for there to be when you’re underground. Sitting up now with aggravation, he reaches over to the bedside table and places the bowl of water he was using the night before, back into his lap. He wants to check in on Elska’s surroundings although he knows other Titers are tasked with the enemy’s usual surveillance. Before activating his technique though, he hesitates due to anxiety, ‘What the fuck am I going to do when we take her? What the fuck will she do?’. He hears footsteps approaching his door and knows Genghis must have already finished with most of the arrangements.

“Little one! Time to wake up!”. Genghis calls out in an eager voice. He stops and smiles when he sees that Getou is already awake and asks, “Aren’t you excited about today?”. He looks over the worrisome Suguru who’s vexation is transparent. The golden sheets drape along his body and slide from his bare skin whenever he moves under them.

Getou grumbles and turns his head, “I don’t think what I’m feeling is excitement…”. He keeps looking at the curtains that hide lies while wondering if he’s much different. ‘Will I have to subdue her when she lashes out? Am I going to have to hurt her when she resists?’. He’s had no qualms with doing so in the past but feels an incredible amount of pressure regarding it now. ‘Could we…like each other?’.

Genghis chuckles and ignores Suguru’s reluctant attitude while looking around the room, “This is definitely much more suitable! Did you really put in a request for a giant tub though?” He’s poking fun at his pupil but he was also puzzled by that. Genghis thinks the brighter room will serve them both well psychologically. ‘Not too shabby for being done at the last minute.’.

Embarrassed by the question, Getou submerges deeper into his bad mood and bed before retorting, “It’s for me. I’m tall.”. He was certainly not about to admit that it was for Elska, thinking she really must love them judging by how insane Naoya acted about it when the Zenin originally designed the first room where she was held. Suguru is aware that her reaction may be hostile overall and is dreading these coming days because of it so he hopes having one may ease her nerves. He doesn’t know that tub is Naoya’s thing.

Genghis isn’t really satisfied with that answer but continues on, “I’ve gathered the most adept offensive fighters we have to offer.” Knowing the Titer’s abilities are incredible but lack in the area of traditional combat, selecting the most capable available would be crucial. “I believe you’ll quite enjoy my plan…”. His teeth show in this smile now, he’s more than willing to share his enthusiasm.

Suguru finally turns to his mentor, interested. “Do tell me what you’ve concocted.”.

Genghis lights up, “So as we were discussing, we need to restrict their actions. We will make our move in a public setting but you’ll still be able to have your fun...we will have to harm innocents but I assume that’s not what troubles you.” He grins maniacally, “Mr. Satoru Gojo’s presence will be requested before the Elders here in a few and his curiosity will assure he attends.”. Genghis sighs, “I was worried Gojo might want to kill all of them but I brought in two special people to mediate our fictitious ambitions.”. He chuckles, “The silver shaman has no idea what’s in store for him.”.

Getou smirks at the thought of Gojo having the rug pulled from beneath him, “So we’re planning on having to deal with Toji, Zenin and Choso…aside from her today?” Genghis nods to his question but a heaviness forms in Suguru’s chest when he thinks about having to kill Choso. He’s still not on board with that completely and figures he’ll try his best to protect the hybrid in the midst of confusion. ‘Not him too.”. Getou wishes to find a way to bring the hybrid back to his side.

Genghis claps his hands, causing his yellow robes to flutter, “You better get up and get ready! I’m about to meet with our team. I believe your first sweetheart will be amongst them.”, he chuckles for the drama but honestly loathes that woman.

“Lidia?”, Getou stiffens immediately as that did not help his motivation. “She’s fucking crazy Master Genghis, I don’t want to be anywhere near her!”. Suguru takes his head to his hands as a few memories of her dependency and inhumane behavior flood him. ‘Psychotic bitch.’. Lidia always chased after Suguru when they were younger and at some point this wore on him as before he knew it, she was claiming them to be betrothed. She was obsessed with his destiny, his calling for the clan and would worship him in the most toxic ways due to it. Her need to be the only one in Getou’s life caused her to mutilate young women amongst Suguru’s outer circle out of spite and jealousy. Their time together did not last long as it quickly became a violent pairing, ending with him crushing her ribs under his usual technique. Suguru sighs, “She’s is not going to help me obtain another woman…”. He shudders recalling how after healing, she was back to throwing herself at him as if nothing happened. ‘Fucking…crazy…’.

Genghis hides his sneer, knowing full and well the history of the two. “On the contrary, she requested this assignment.”. He notices Suguru’s growing frustration and wishes he could explain exactly why he’s doing what he’s doing but instead says, “I’ve seen many outcomes for this and although they may have varied, I can assure you Lidia will serve a great purpose here.”. Little does Getou know, Lidia will be the proof offered to show Elska she will be cared for while in the Titer compound.

Suguru is skeptical to believe this and shows it through his expression as he rises from the bed and says, “Women are the bane of my existence…”. He stretches in his black briefs and cracks his neck while thinking something foreboding was eating at him. ‘I’m probably going to have to expose my other techniques now.’.

“You’re about to receive the most powerful wife in the world…and yet, you complain.”, Genghis teases as he’d probably be nervous too if the roles were reversed. He watches Suguru don a black robe, clearly showing signs of stress so he walks up to him and puts his jokes aside, “This is going to work out, little one, one way or another.”, and pulls Getou’s head down to plant a fatherly kiss to the top of it. After sharing the rare moment, he bows and leaves Suguru to his morning routine.

Getou watches him quietly walk out of the room with conflicting emotions. Genghis is the only man he’s ever looked up to, the only other human that ever offered genuine affection. Ever since Suguru was reunited with his mentor though, something has felt off or perhaps he’s just seems more purposeful. He’s not sure if this odd feeling is because of his own unstable emotions that threatened to derail his purpose of revenge or if there’s another reason but he can’t ignore it either way. He trusts that his mentor is still worthy of his respect and recognition though and finds his returning welcomed regardless. ‘All of those years…’, he wonders where Genghis spent his time and exactly why. ‘Did they really keep him away to simply foster my hatred for Gojo?’. He knows that doesn’t really make sense.

Genghis is turning a hall leading to stairs to take him upward. He sees two of the recruited Titers waiting for him outside of the designated meeting area at the top, smiles and nears them. The first one he shakes hands with is Sain Khun. The 32-year-old Titer was a remarkable martial artists and hunter. His rare eyes are more grey than blue and stand in contrast to his long black hair that he wears down. Sain is one of the handful of Titers that learned to channel their metaphysical natured abilities into to combative techniques but usually stays out of the political fray of the clan. ‘A fine young man.”. Before he’s able to address the handsome Titer, the second of the pairing cuts in.

“Master Genghis, I have more questions about this woman.”. Lidia shamelessly exudes her opinion of the situation and demands attention. She receives a sharp look from the clan’s head that only fuels her suspicions. “Are we certain she’s the best pairing for Master Getou?”.

“Miss Lidia, you look lovely today…”, Genghis takes her hand and kisses it, ignoring her inquires. He continues to smile until she speaks up again. ‘She never ceases.’.

“Can we trust that her intentions for Master Getou are ones we can stand by?”. Lidia shakes her long curly red hair that dances down her arms. Her green eyes narrowed still, she waits for an answer. “She’s not even human. What if she uses her powers to manipulate his biology as well?”. Her foot taps impatiently against the now softer ground, ‘I’ll fucking kill that bitch if she even looks at him wrong!’.

Genghis has already grown tired of catering to Lidia’s neediness in the short time they’ve come to know each other but understands she’s vital. “And what of your own intentions?”, he confidently questions her as he doesn’t need an answer. He already knows and is glad to see her heart hasn’t wavered from its possessive ways.

Sain feels forced as this greet was supposed to be simple. He cares not of Lidia’s unhealthy interest for Suguru and even with his instincts crying against Genghis, feels badly for the man. He decides to enter the conversation in hopes to shut it down. “Lusting Lidia, it’s time to get on with the meeting.”, and grabs her arm, leading her through the door where the rest of the selected wait.

Genghis takes a moment to center himself, ‘I understand your resentment little one…’. This quick exchange between them wasn’t the worst he’s suffered from the woman but he still cannot stand to be around her. He chuckles and whispers to himself, “But if she were any less obsessed, this wouldn’t work.”, and then enters the room with the rest as they lay out their plans.

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Elska is looking around at the busy street as they occasionally bump into passing people. “My prince, are you sure it’s around here?” She’s never been to this part of the city before and is feeling anxious by the crowd. The sun is out but a chilling breeze catches them every so often. Her mind is heavy and plagued with questions but doesn’t want to dampen Naoya’s mission for the day.

Naoya stops near the edge of the wide sidewalk and pulls out his phone, “I’m positive!”, while checking the map to make sure he could stand by those words. ‘Where is it?’. His brow creases as he studies the screen.

Toji huffs, “We’ve been walking forever.” He’s abnormally agitated but also hates crowds and is pinning the fault on being dragged out into one. He looks at Elska who’s eyes happen to meet his and feels his tension release ever so slightly as the wind blows her black V-cut dress along her knees. All of them are dressed up more than usual since Naoya begged for them to eat at one of his favorite restaurants. He sees Elska eyeing him in a way that foretells she finds his black pants and squeezing button up suiting and it makes him feel like he could deal with the clothed restriction for a while longer.

“It says we’re close!”, Naoya points to the map on his phone pridefully. It’s been a few years since he was on this side of the city and a lot has changed. He’s becoming frustrated with not knowing how much time they’ll have before Gojo returns, wanting to enjoy some normalcy. ‘I just want to treat her to nice meal!’ He turns to Elska and takes her hand, “Baby, I promise it will be worth it. I’m talking…food fit for a princess.”, when she giggles, he does too, being happy to see that she isn’t wanting to turn around. He looks to Toji now, “Want me to find you a walker?”, and snickers as the giant narrows his eyes before continuing ahead.

Elska feels Naoya’s finger lace into hers as they resume walking, with Toji on her left. She’s trying to be cheerful today, wanting to appreciate the time she’s spending with them but her mind keeps leading her into thought. The night before, Toji stopped her from feeding and although she was aware of why and understood the risks Satoru spoke about, she tried to proceed anyway. There were a weird few minutes where she could only focus on drinking from her beloved and flailed wildly as he restrained her. ‘Why did it feel like I wanted the Titer energy too?’. She thinks to hold Toji’s hand as well in this moment but stops herself as she doesn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to the three of them. ‘He looked so concerned all while I couldn’t even stop…”. The ancestral voice advised her to feed. Her heart aches as she knows this was out of character and extremely selfish when they didn’t know how it could affect her. The one thing keeping her afloat in this matter is how Toji held her after she snapped out it, how he seemed to understand without saying that she didn’t mean to.

Toji lets Naoya and Elska get a step ahead of him so he can keep his eyes on her. After their last outing, he’s remaining highly aware of their surroundings and is watching for anything suspicious. He sees Naoya in his dark grey slacks and black dress shirt, leaning down to talk to her as they maneuver through the groups of families and friends, keeping her close. ‘Is she really, ok?’. Toji recalls how she struggled against him the night before. Gojo tried to rush to the bed after seeing her reaction but Toji was also wanting to shield her from him. Her eyes changed, showing the dashes of his green while she clawed at his arms and flashed her fangs with a glare. Toji knew that wasn’t his Elska but didn’t want to make her apprehensive, so he hid her the best he could from Satoru until they reverted. He heard something from within while this was all occurring, a voice that he swears communicated for him to feed his master. ‘Is that even possible? What the fuck was that?’. He rubs his bicep after feeling a sharp pain run through his arm.

Naoya leads them to a building that has loud club music playing inside, the base being noticeable from where they stand. He looks up and scrunches his face, “What the fuck is this?”. He checks his watch that bares 1:39 and is further confused by the daytime club scene. ‘I’ve failed.’. Toji can be heard groaning so he orients himself to face them both, “It was right here!!”. He takes in Elska’s kind smile as she’s clearly not going to make him feel bad for being wrong. Not knowing what to do to save their lunch adventure he stands there awkwardly to think but hears Elska say, “Well let’s enjoy a drink while we look up somewhere else nearby!”. He smiles at her ability to always find a silver lining and follows behind her up the ramp that leads inside.

As they walk through the room on the first floor, Toji feels this intense wave wash over him. Music is drowning out most other sounds but the way the bass pulses through him allows him to feel alive. The stench of cigarettes, sweat and alcohol sting his senses while they find a seat at the bar. Once sitting, he can smell Elska’s perfume when she whips her hair behind her shoulders, exposing her neck to which causes him to stir in the stool. Naoya hands out drink menus from them all but Toji doesn’t even look at it, knowing his order already and wanting it immediately. He feels ready to pounce but is cautiously calming himself as he knows this is not the place, ‘I am NOT Gojo…’. When she crosses her legs he feels the sting in his arm again, bringing his mood back to a wavering position.

“I’m thinking a red…’, Elska states loud enough to be heard while looking over the wine menu. Naoya smiles to her words as he announces his choice of Mojito. “That’s why you’re so sweet!”, she jokes vaguely in regards to his actual taste. She places a hand on Toji’s right knee before turning to him and feels him jump. Her voice now concerned, “Did I scare you!?”. She giggles until she sees the intensity in his eyes, wondering why he’s exuding so much right then. Her breath was held in her throat as she waited for his eyes to glow, knowing that would not be good for where they are. They never do though and she eventually resumes respiration as he places his own large hand over hers. ‘What was that?’. She now swivels her head around the large room, taking in all of the day drinkers on the dance floor and seated randomly about.

The bartender takes their orders with a smile and begins to serve them up right there. He recommended a red for Elska that he swears was his personal favorite and proudly waited for the approving sip. When she stated its palatability, he then left to attend other customers while Toji stared him down menacingly. ‘That’s a brave man to be flirting right in front of us.’.

Naoya sips his drink while eyeing Toji chug his whiskey on the rocks. “Slow down old man, we still have to go somewhere to eat!”, he laughs at the eyeroll he receives and notices Elska drinking pretty quickly as well. “Baby, what’s on your mind?”, he knows something is bothering her and wonders if they’re both just nervous after the last Titer attack. ‘Maybe I can convince her to dance it away!’, he thinks as he imagines himself twirling her under the disco ball. He just wants her to have a good day.

After finshing her glass already, she sets it down and tells Naoya, “I’m fine, I promise! I just really have to pee!”. He chuckles and adjusts himself so she has more room to slide off the stool. She announces that she’ll be right back before searching the walls for signs indicating the direction she should take. A drunken man bumps into her shortly after leaving the bar and can feel Toji increase his presence so she turns around to show that she’s fine. The whole room was lively except for Toji’s motionless staring. ‘I better be fast before he loses his shit.’.

“She shouldn’t be alone.” Toji followed her with his eyes as she turned a corner down a hall. He’s worried about her and has this familiar unyielding need to be in her vicinity. It’s almost as if he knows something is about to happen. “I’m going to wait for her, watch the drinks.”. He hears Naoya protest with grief but faces him and says, “Boy, why don’t you find us a place to eat since we’re out here because of you.”, and places a hand on Naoya’s shoulder as he goes to walk past to counter the aggression in his voice. “Order another round too will ya?”.

Elska stands up in the stall and flushes but doesn’t leave. She’s feeling like Toji’s eyes were trying to tell her something minutes ago but she can’t figure it out. All she knows is that it was sexy. She opens the latched door to wash and dry her hands but takes in her reflection in the mirror and thinks, ‘Life is so much crazier now…’, but smiles to herself knowing she had fantastic support from everyone. The door pushes open abruptly behind her and she gasps in startlement before realizing that it was Toji himself. “TOJI! What if there are others in here?!”. She can tell by his focus though that it didn’t matter anyway.

“Doll…” he mutters as he locks the door behind him. He sees that she was caught off guard when she asks what he was doing in there but he just walks closer until he’s inches away. “I need…”, he lifts her up so she can wrap her legs around his waist and supports her weight with his right arm. “I need you.”, he whispers while dragging the tip of his nose along her collar bone, watching her skin change pigment from his glowing eyes. Her hands are roaming through his hair and he moans to the sensation of her nails against his scalp. “Right now.”. He nearly growls as he sinks her into his groin from above.

“Toji…”, she was right about his prior intensity but can’t find it in her heart to stop him as he begins kissing the crook of her neck. The music can be heard through the walls along with idle chatter and it all serves as a reminder for where they’re at. She thinks of her pheromones and instantly pulls herself out of their beautiful trance. She whispers, “We shouldn’t do this here, my beloved.”, and frowns as he lifts his head to meet eyes. “I can’t release them here, it’ll be a disaster…”.

He agrees that they shouldn’t have sex and nods with a grunt but that’s not truly what brought him in lady’s room to begin with. Feeling his fangs form he shows them to her and happily takes in her reaction as she smiles and moves her hair while saying, “Oh! ok…but we have to be quick!”. He squeezes her cheek with his right hand that supporting her rear and drags his teeth across the skin of her neck. “I just need to taste you.”, he wantonly groans before biting down. She gasps to his intrusion and grips his hair as he begins to suckle. His own whimpers could be heard between his gulps, loving every drop he’s being given as he deciphers her soul and feelings. Her flavor, now that he’s not as overloaded by the information, is reminiscent of the aroma born from a field of flowers. Each time he swallows more of her blood, his overall restlessness fades while her squirming increases.

Elska cradles his head into her while melting in the master’s ecstasy flowing through her. Her eyes are closed as she bites her lip and attempts to muffle her sounds. “My beloved…”, she whimpers to him while her fingers stroke through his hair. His hypertonicity dwindles as she feels his left hand travel up her back, resting a grip on the nape of her neck. “I love you, my beloved Toji…”, and gasps in desperation as she can sense his own, wanting to assure him of his importance. Those same fingers now dance along her clavicle as he brings them over the wounds to close them while panting into her neck. He leaves his face buried there, adorning the area with his lips slowly as he she can tell he’s gathering himself. “Do you feel better?” She caresses his temple and cheek hoping that he did, feeling terrible that she didn’t recognize or even sense his disposition sooner. When he lifts his head to look at her again, she feels the need to lock her lips to his as they both exhale in a gratified union. She moves the hair out of his eyes and kisses his forehead before he gently puts her back down, him looking refreshed with a bashful grin.

He grabs a paper towel from the dispenser and wets it. In the mirror he can see Elska’s loving eyes watching him and the scar on the corner of his lips bends pleasantly. While wiping away any evidence, he shyly adds, “I love you too, doll.”, the words still seeming unreal. After discarding the bloodied paper towel, he takes up her hands in his own, “I’m sorry for following you in here, I just…I really needed to do that.”. He’s still uneasy by how compelling the desire was. “I felt like I wouldn’t get another chance.”. He sees the concern on her face and doesn’t want to worry her, “It was just time for me to feed doll, everything is ok.”. Her hand sails upwards to hold his cheek and leans into it. ‘I have to keep her safe.’.

Naoya is watching the condensation accumulate on his glass and is now feeling nervous as he checks his watch again. ‘Where are they?!’, he swings around in the stool to check the room and feels an incredible wave of relief as he finds Toji and Elska making their way back to the bar. After they sit he asks, “Did you guys go to the bathroom at the dorms or what?”, but picks up on the weird laughs he receives from them. ‘He wouldn’t have tried something sly, would he?’, and squints his eyes at Toji. ‘He looks way better though.’, and decides to let it go as he’s sure even a quickie couldn’t be that quick. “Baby…”, Naoya slides his phone over in front of them as he finishes his second Mojito, “I’ve only been here once but they have beautiful seating along the water!”. He cackles, “…and it’s only about half a mile away by foot…”.

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Gojo is quickly walking through the whited-out halls with Choso following. He speaks without looking, “Choso, when we get in there…I have to warn you, you’re not expected.”. Gojo heard Choso stop in place so he turns around to see him. “You’re with me though so it’s fine! If they say anything to you, just ignore them. I will do the talking.”, and waves for the being to hurry.

“I…I don’t understand why I’m here with you and not everyone else…”. Choso is familiar with the Elders but can’t ignore the fact that he used to work for them where as he’s now on the opposing side. ‘Is this a good idea?’. He was expecting Gojo to sulk and whine to being called in today and is puzzled by how thrilled he seems.

Gojo jumps up to click his heels to the side before saying, “I don’t trust these cunts and I’m almost positive this is a trap of some sort…”. He notices Choso’s eyes widen with confusion so he continues, “If they’re trying to distract me from Elska, they fail if you’re there using your technique to watch her for me!”, his smug grin appears, “This way I’ll know the moment something happens.”. He’s sure the Elders have called him away in order to create an opportunity but has a mind to flip their plans upside down with this small act of rebellion. “I can never remember where to go! This shit all looks the same…it’s creepy.”.

Choso sighs but tries to keep up with Gojo’s quickened pace. The bright lighting overhead is blinding and causing him discomfort as he prefers darker places. He doesn’t know what to make of Gojo’s explanation but figures he’s along for the ride at this point anyways. “Do you think they’d even admit to what they’re doing?”. Choso understands the amount of secrecy the surrounds the Elder’s goals and is sure that he’s not even fully aware of their intentions.

“Yes. I will make sure they do.”, Satoru’s words are eerie but his expression is still delighted. “These fuckers have messed with us for long enough. They’re cowards, Choso and the things they want to do to my love are unacceptable.”. Gojo is certain that none of the others would have condoned what he’s thinking he’ll have to do which is why he said nothing before leaving. “They need to leave her alone and how can I call myself the strongest if I can’t protect her from these witless skin bags?”. Satoru at least wanted to inform Nanami of his meeting but hasn’t been able to reach the fellow shaman yet. ‘Did they get to him too?’. Gojo is certain that something happened with Shoko but was waiting to see how things played out. ‘As long as she’s fine, I know she can handle it.’, but worries about Nanami’s reaction if he’s already discovered this too.

‘What is he going to do?’, Choso feels like something big is about to happen, something that cannot be taken back. The unnerving pressure in his gut hints that whatever it is, it’s not good. “Itadori and the others are still on standby but isn’t it odd that they haven’t been given any missions?”. They pass more rooms before Satoru finally stops. Choso watches the silver shaman’s expression change to lethally cold one before straightening himself with resolve, and knows he should do the same. ‘I guess I have to just trust him…’, the thought not sitting comfortably at all.

Gojo quietly speaks, “Remember, don’t mind them, they’re not worth the stress. You do not serve them any longer.”, and places a reassuring hand on the hybrids shoulder. He’s impressed when he looks over the being, seeing that his previous nervousness has been cast away and replaced by a collected ensemble. ‘I’m pretty sure I’m right about him.’, and feels poised in the dark nature that lurks beneath Choso’s kindness. Turning back to the door, Gojo kicks it open fiercely before entering. “WHAT’S UP FUCKERS?!”.

Three people sit along one side of a long white table, seeming prepared aside from the sudden commotion. The first is a representative of the Kamo clan, a new middle-aged face Satoru has never seen draped in dark red robes. The second is a Zenin, the bought errand man known better as “Peaches” for a less known reason. Gojo knew him rather well from his childhood and all of the clan events he was forced to attend. The third, however, catches Satoru by complete surprise and angers him. The woman sitting as a representative for his own clan is none other than his mother.

Gojo seethes with white knuckled fists, “What the fuck are you doing here?”, as old anguish resurfaces between the two. Satoru hasn’t been home in years and purposefully. He was sure if he stayed any longer, he’d annihilate his own family.

The Kamo rep scoffs, “Yes… well hello to you too Satoru Gojo. We could ask you the same.” He points to Choso, “Isn’t that Kamo property?”. The hybrid and Gojo fail to give him the time of day, causing tension.

Gojo never takes his eyes off of his mother while waiting in silence as Choso dutifully ignores them. His eyes darken, “I asked you a fucking question you miserable old whore.”. He feels the urge to gather a technique but calms himself with his better judgement.

His mother speaks, “That is no way to talk to the woman who raised you!”, she laughs in a haughty way but brings her dramatics to a close, “Why else would I be here? You can’t be left to just do whatever you please…”. She tilts her nose up and displays her notion that she is untouchable.

Peaches shifts in his chair, “You have something that needs to be returned to the Zenin’s. Master Naoya was promised her hand.”. He’s honestly terrified of Gojo but would never allow this to show. Satoru darts stormy eyes in his direction and he feels a chill race down his spine.

“Let’s just be frank about it. You want Elska.”. Gojo voice is calm, almost lighthearted. He brings his gaze back to his mother, feeling a little better about the situation knowing he’s going to handle more business than he expected today. “Choso, please start now.”. Gojo doesn’t have to look since he can feel Choso’s energy gathering to form the window. He watches the representatives lean to figure out what the hybrid is up to and laughs out loud. “My friend here”, He scowls at the Kamo man, “is going to observe Elska while we meet.”. He winks to Peaches, “She’s with Naoya right now for your information…Toji too.”.

Gojo’s mother bursts into hyaena laughter, threatening to rupture the unsuspecting eardrums of the others. “You think you have it all figured out, don’t you? Such a pitiful child.”. Her long white hair waves in the air as she jerks her head to see Peaches’s perplexed expression. “Don’t believe him just because he speaks it…trust me…”, and folds her arms while thinking of how many more beatings her son should have to experience when younger.

Peaches clears his throat and tries to save face, “Surely this is some kind of joke. Master Naoya loathes your very existence Satoru.”. He’s now chuckling to himself having felt it was a test of some sort, “Are we not on better terms than that of your games?”. He’s now sure it was a lie.

Gojo regrets that Peaches is here today but is unable to overlook the fact that the old goat is in cahoots with this situation. ‘It can’t be helped!’. He turns to Choso now for the first time since they walked into the room and is reassured that nothing bad is happening. Now facing Peaches again, “You know… Zenin and I got off on the wrong foot.” He grins, “But now we have threesomes!”, loving the shock that plasters everyone’s face. The Kamo man choked on his own saliva to the mention. Gojo looks at his mother, “Don’t be upset just because no one wants to fuck you. It can’t be helped when your cunt leaks venom.”.

Choso sits motionlessly as he listens to the meeting unfold, completely flabbergasted by Satoru’s way of speaking. ‘What did his mother do to him to make him hate her so much?’, he hesitates to explore the options in his mind as he can only imagine. Aside from that though, Choso has never witnessed such a display of blatant disrespect to the higher ups and is completely unnerved by the silver shamans ever changing composure. ‘What is he planning to do?’, the ominous feelings he’s experiencing from this are only growing at this point.

Peaches is red with embarrassment, “HE WOULD NEVER DO THAT!”, and allows his anger on the matter to spill over. The representative huffs relentlessly to the accusations and feels disgraced for his ears being exposed to such vile talk. When expecting to see an angry Gojo, he’s further confused by the smile that meets him instead.

Gojo runs his finger along the table as he casually saunters in front of each of them. “If you three decide to get rowdy…I’ll have to kill you.”. He basks in the glares and especially enjoys his mother’s fear as she knew he was not playing around. Once they become settled he says to her, “You being here makes you my enemy, mommy. How long have you been involved?”. She starts to swat his question away with a scoff but everyone leaps out of their skin when Satoru yells, “HOW FUCKING LONG?!”. He increases his presence tenfold and watches the representatives writhe in distress before him.

She says nothing.

The Kamo rep is sweating bullets as he’s only heard the tales of horrors committed at the hand of Gojo. ‘Genghis said nothing about this hostility.”, he thinks to himself as he comprehends that he’s bitten off more than he could chew. He’s afraid to peel his eyes away from the powerful shaman making inquiring demands but also wants to flee the room. ‘This guy is even crazier in person!’.

Gojo takes a deep breath and exhales dramatically, “Well…this is going nowhere…”, and summons energy into his hand as he aims it at the Kamo representative. The nameless man cries out in fear and studders in his breathing. Gojo notices Choso jump to his feet but the being doesn’t say anything. Only when the defeated female voice utters, “3 years.”, does he quell his attack. He thinks about that answer for a moment before acknowledging her again. ‘That’s strange.’. Looming across from her he now asks, “I’d already had my love for some time before that, why did you join them to conspire against me at that point? Don’t make me blow this poor guy’s skull open…”, he warns of his lack of patience.

His mother sulks in her seat having her hands tied about the questioning, “I thought she was a passing infatuation at first, like all of the others but you completely neglected your responsibilities of being an heir because of that wretch.” She’s met with unforgiving eyes and wishes she was able to smack the audacity out of him but has learned the hard way about his response to abuse. “She is not yours Satoru and you jeopardize the entire balance of the clans with your actions of keeping her.”. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Peaches nod in support and feels reaffirmed by it.

Gojo slips a wild laugh and slaps the table, “She is mine though. I voyaged worlds away to find her. I went to incredible lengths to bring her back…”, he sighs while resting his hands on his hips. “You do know, mom, these Titers that have you in their pocket…they were going to use her to assassinate me.”. The atmosphere of the room deteriorates at the mention of the Titer clan. Its obvious that they were left unaware to Gojo having knowledge of the group’s silent partner.

His mother jumps from her seat and screams, “AND THEY SHOULD HAVE SUCCEEDED!”. All of the hatred she’s ever felt for her son sears the air around them, her chest feeling lighter for the honesty but heavier for the fear. “You were destined for greatness but even with your gifts, something is wrong with you! How you ever came out of me? I will never know…”. She feels she must stand her ground or else the structure they’ve served their entire lives will crumble. “You’re evil. You always have been.”.

Choso is still watching Naoya, Toji and Elska but can’t help but be distracted by the darkness exuding Gojo. ‘What is going on here?’, he doesn’t understand how this is official business and even finds himself feeling defensive over Satoru. ‘That woman is appalling.’, he thinks as he considers Gojo’s upbringing and decides there’s more to the man than he ever considered. He looks back to the window after surmising that none of the representatives would attack. Choso becomes rattled when the window shows Toji drinking from Elska in a cramped bathroom, ‘I can’t believe the lighting permits this, it must be dim.’, He temporarily becomes fixated with Toji’s fangs anchored into her as she quietly moans. He’s not seen anyone but her feed before. ‘So, his bite feels good to her as well?’. He brushes his lap as if to tell it, “Knock it off”, but his attention is soon stolen by Peaches’s mention of Elska.

“If you don’t return Elska Oda then this will be seen as an act of aggression Satoru, please…don’t do thi-…” Peaches can no longer speak as Gojo grips hit throat and is thrown into a fit of fright.

“I kind of liked you…I was use to you at least…but if you ask me that one more time, I will break your fucking neck.” Gojo feels his face twitch as he squeezes the old man’s beard into his throat, “You guys are fucking with me today and I don’t appreciate it.”. Never letting go, he turns to his mother but also glances at the petrified Kamo rep, “I do not give a single flying fuck about the clans, I couldn’t care less of your archaic ways and I am never going to surrender my Elska.”. As Peaches reaches a critical point of needing air, Gojo clamps his fingers deeper, “I left my love’s side today to be here because of your guys’ little fucking Titer friends. That is what we will discuss.”.

Gojo’s mother rushes to pull her son’s hand away but right as she’s reaching out, Satoru releases Peaches. She watches the old man heave and choke uncontrollably and shoots hateful eyes. “How dare you lay a hand on him? Do you fear nothing?”, she thinks to threaten with her husband but knows that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree so it’s likely useless.

Satoru smirks while studying Peaches inability to regain his breath, “I crushed his trachea a bit, he’s going to need medical attention soon.”. He watches the Kamo man stand up in disbelief and warns, “My mother is right about one thing, I do not fear you or your influence.”, and smiles approvingly as the man takes his seat again hesitantly.

“You psychotic little freak!”, his mother cries out in disgust, “We need to get him to a doctor!”. She feels herself fill with anxiety as she was not expecting him to go this far. “Let us take him!”.

Satoru hisses quietly, “If you guys weren’t so dead set in dicking me around then this wouldn’t have happened. No one leaves until I get some answers.”. He strolls around the table, loving how terrified the Kamo representative became when he was close. He yanks up the suffocating Peaches and throws him back into his chair, “Have some fucking dignity…I thought better of you.”. When Peaches makes eye contact, he can see the dread wash over the man, knowing their dynamic has changed forever.

The Kamo man speaks up sheepishly, “Wh…What is it that you want to know?”. He’s all for handing over the required information as he clearly cares about his life more than the others. Satoru’s expression softens as the other two representatives hang their mouths open, not expecting him to fold so easily. Gojo states, “Everything.”, which causes the rep to tense up as he doesn’t know where to begin. He hastily blurts out, “Suguru Getou inherited ancient techniques as well. The Titers are planning on taking the girl for themselves to ensure their supremacy.” He inhales sharply, “The head of their clan met his end by the hands of your company, they want to repay by being rid of you as you are their final target. You’re still too strong because of your infinity, so the girl’s fate was determined the moment you were born.”.

“You… weak imbecile…”, Gojo’s mother retaliates to the sensitive information by pushing Peaches backwards causing him to fall to the ground and thrash violently. Without so much as a second thought, she gathers energy into her hand and expels it at the Kamo man’s mouth. The representative dons his own matching blood as his brain matter exits the back of his head, decorating the white surroundings behind him. Only a cavernous jagged hole remains where the words escaped him only seconds prior. His body slumps over the table as he leaks his remaining essence into a pool that shortly forms a dripping pattern to the white tiled floor.

Choso defensively stands as the black tattoo on his faces begins to wave. “Satoru…”, is all he says while watching Gojo’s mother now strain to lift the blue tinted and gasping Peaches back upright his seat. ‘His mother is just as rash…’. Choso waits for a few moments longer but is eager to gauge Gojo when their eyes finally meet. ‘Why does he look so satisfied?’, he questions himself as he’s met with that smug smile. The Zenin man’s eyes look like they may pop out of his head but Choso can still make out the man’s reaction to his own presence. He hears Gojo say, “Everything is alright Choso, don’t worry. Just watch them.”, but the being is unable to simply sit with ease at this time. ‘How is this alright?’.

“And you wonder where I get it from?”, Gojo is irritated that the only man that was willing to talk is now dead but he’s also able to take the information to heart because of how his mother reacted. ‘So all of this really is because of me…’, he thinks of Elska with a heavy heart knowing all that she’s been through, even before he got his hands on her was his fault. ‘My love…I will make this right.’.

Gojo’s mother now sits back down, wondering if she went too far and gave away their hand. Peaches struggles to speak next to her but she can make out that he’s trying to question the fidelity of the Kamo’s last words. She sighs, “Look Peaches, I like you but I’m siding with Genghis.”. Peaches gurgles himself into a purple hue as he still cannot breathe or talk properly. She understands that Peaches was completely ignorant to the Titer’s planned betrayal to the Zenins and calm says, “They’re not wanting to eliminate other clans, they’re just going to help guide us to this proposed peace, don’t worry so much.”.

Peaches can only think of Master Naoya who he feels is in grave danger after hearing this information. ‘I…he has to know…Master Na…he needs to be made aware!’. He thinks to grab his phone but he wouldn’t be able to relay the information, nor is he fast enough to text it. Peaches chokes in his stress and can tell his body is slowly shutting down after being deprived oxygen and feels completely hopeless about his predicament. When his heavy eyes meet Gojo’s he freezes in apprehension while listening intently.

Satoru sighs dramatically with growing anticipation, “Now…where were we?”.

Next Chapter (38) >>

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Tagging : @angelofthorr ❤️

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jilytho · 4 years ago

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Blind Dating and Miscalculating

Blind dating au where Lily is on a blind date and wrongly assumes James is her date

Read below or on AO3 :)

“Whew does Mary know how to pick ‘em!” James looked up in shock to see a woman, apparently under the impression some Mary somehow ‘picked’ James leering at him, teetering from side to side as she pulled back the chair opposite him and clambered into it, nearly knocking off the unused wine glass closest to her.

Drunk. Drunk but also gorgeous. Red tendrils that likely at one point in the night were neatly arranged were now flung about her shoulders in partial disarray.

“Scuse me, I’m not quite sure you’ve got the right-”

“I told her I didn’t want to go! I said,” she reached over and grabbed his hand, pulling it towards her, wide eyes locked on his. One look at her bright green eyes (beautifully green eyes, his favorite shade of green, actually) was enough to tell that while the lights were on, nobody was home. “I said, Mary!” She exclaimed, continuing to cradle his hand close to her while gesturing wildly with the other, “Mary I have no interest in dating, period. Nevermind getting set up with some random strange man. Especially with the name Mark. I mean, look, no offense Mark and other Marks of the world but it really is a rather plain name.” She paused to catch his gaping mouth opening and closing not unlike a fish before continuing. “That’s not to say that plain is always a bad thing or that extravagant names are a good thing,” she stumbled over the word extravagant and pushed right past it, “I mean I dated this bloke, Severus, once and I thought wow such an interesting name, fascinating. Nope. Dead boring and borderline stalkerish fellow as it turns out. So you’d think I’d like plain after an experience like that, wouldn’t you?”

She stopped abruptly, eyes staring at him expectantly, apparently waiting for some form of agreement.

“Erm I suppose so?”

“Exactly! You’d think! But I mean, Mark. So mundane. I just assumed the person would be mundane as well. Probably an accountant or a lawyer, blech. Not to mention I was a bit nervous, been a little since my last date if I’m being honest. Not that there weren't offers.” She gripped his hand tighter, “There were offers, Mark. Don’t start thinking I’m desperate. I had offers.” She dropped his hand and folded her arms as if he had suggested otherwise.

“I didn’t say- I’m not, I'm sorry can we back up for a-” his words and thoughts were a jumbled mess.

“Anyway,” she huffed, rolling her eyes and relaxing her arms, “anyway. Anyway, what was I saying? Mark! Yes, Mark. So as I was saying, I didn’t want to go on this date at all but Mary was all ‘it’ll be good for you! He’s so cute! We’ll get drinks first!’ and so I agreed to come meet you, but may have drank more than three margaritas but in my defense it was 2 for 1 and Mary was paying and I can never pass up a good deal. So that's why I’m late. But I am here. I am here with you, Mark, and you are far less boring looking than I expected. Yes, much cuter than any Mark I’ve ever met. Mary did well.” She nodded approvingly, sitting back in her seat and smiling constantly.

From the corner of his eye he saw Sirius walk into the restaurant and see the woman in the chair Sirius had been meant to occupy. James immediately tried to signal with his eyes, “HELP, HELP, HELP” without alerting the redhead in front of him when Sirius, the bastard, winked at him lightly, turned on his heel, and left.

She hadn’t noticed his desperate face as she was busy scanning the menu over and when she wasn’t calling him Mark or yelling in his face she was quite pretty. Extremely pretty, actually. Like exactly the kind of person he’d want to have one a blind date. Or a non-blind date. Any date really. And the girl clearly needed food in her stomach to soak up some of her margarita, really it would be irresponsible to leave her like this. The least he could do would be to keep her company, pretend he was Mark to try and minimize her embarrassment, and then make sure she got home safe.

“You know,” she met his eye over her menu as he spoke, “for someone who seems to have a lot of opinions on my name, I don’t believe Mary ever told me yours.”

She laughed lightly, a beautiful wind chimey, tinkly noise that sent delight shooting down his spine.

“Lily, Lily Evans.” She reached her hand across the table again, this time for him to shake. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure is all mine, Lily, Lily Evans.” He shook her hand lightly and looked back at his menu.

Dinner seemed to fly by. Once Lily got some food into her system she sobered up rapidly, yet sobriety in no way impacted her ability to keep him completely enthralled and entertained. Each passing minute made him more inclined to legally change his name to Mark and live the lie for the rest of his days.

Sure their life would be a lie, he thought as she threw her head back laughing over some asinine story he was telling of Sirius, red hair swirling around like flames, but it would be fun.

Not only was she bold, she openly mocked his ordering bourbon, ruthlessly holding nothing back despite only knowing him for a matter of minutes, but she was also unbelievably sweet. Listening intently to every story he shared, telling multiple of her own where despite being an ass kicking journalist she somehow also found time to volunteer at the animal shelter and had fostered three different dogs in the last two months. Ruthless, for sure, as she batted her eyes at him over her water glass causing all sorts of feelings to start to stir. She would give James, correction- Mark, a run for his money and then some. Barely an hour of sitting across from her and he was pretty sure he’d take his dinner knife to Mark's throat if the bloke ever actually did show up. Whether it be from jealousy or fury that any human being could ever stand up this goddess in front of him.

The conversation flowed easily. Leaping seamlessly from her parents professions to his childhood mischief to the time she dyed her sister's dog key lime green. Her dad had a thing for flowers, apparently, marrying a Rose and insisting on making their daughters Petunia and Lily.

“You could keep up the tradition, you know. Get your kids some flower names. Maybe something unique,”

“What?” She scoffed, “and subject them to years of cheesy, thoughtless bouquets of a flower you hardly like just because it’s your namesake? I don’t think so.”

“Then make it a flower they’d want to get! Or an herb, like Basil. Everyone wants a Basil plant around.” He pointed his drink at her as she spluttered incoherently, “are you telling me you don’t love a basil plant?”

“You’re right, how dare I overlook such a top quality name as Basil.” She drawled out in a monotone, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I suppose we’d go with something more colorful though, like Anemone!” She looked like the idea was pure genius and now he was the one spluttering in her face.

He tried not to let his heart burst at her use of we.

“I’m sorry, isn’t that the ocean thing? The Nemo thing? The sea anananamename thing where they live? That’s what you want to name your child?”

Her eyes were screwed shut as she clutched her chest, gasping for air through her laughs.

“What?” He grinned at her, not caring if he had somehow said the wrong thing or appeared dumb when her laughter was so intoxicating. He felt a tingling run straight down his spine.

“A sea,” she gasped out through choked laughs, “anemone!”

“That’s what you just said!” He continued to argue.

“Whew,” she wiped a stray tear from one eye, “truthfully you’re not that far off base at all. Same exact spelling. But they do have anemone for flowers that are on land as well as the sea. I’ve just never heard someone butcher a word so spectacularly.”

“Yes well, you know I’m quite good at that.” He leaned back in his seat as her eyebrow quirked up. “In fact, so good that I have been named the anti-Spelling B Champ,” he nodded matter of factly and continued on as if she wasn’t gaping at him, echo of a laugh still present on her face.

“It’s true! Annually, all the people that hate spelling b’s gather and compete to see who can truly butcher a word the most. I’ve won every time. You’re sitting with a nationally ranked word ruiner.”

“Oh wow, however could I have not known. Do you have any secrets of the trade you could share?”

“I usually would never divulge such confidential information but just because you asked so nicely and because you are in fact stunningly gorgeous, I’ll give you one.” He leaned in conspiratorially, hitching a finger for her to do the same, and dropped his voice low. “To really put yourself over the top and seal that victory,” he looked side to side dramatically, checking for eavesdroppers before looking back on her, “is all about the silent Q.” He sat back again and watched her shoulders shake lightly with poorly concealed giggles.

“Personally,” he grinned strongly, all pretense of secrecy gone, “I like to throw a minimum of three in there just to really set myself apart. Once I did a silent q followed by a silent x. I nearly sent the judge to an early grave.”

“You know I bet what would have really done him in is if you followed the x with a p but you pronounce the p like a-“

“Lily?” James reared back to find some bloke standing next to their table staring anxiously in between the two of them. “Are you Lily?” Lily nodded lightly, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, eyes flitting between the newcomer and James.

“Um yes I am, I’m sorry do I know you?”

A wave of cold dread overcame him, realization sinking into his chest. The newcomer, just about their age, polo and khakis, easily could have been a lawyer or an accountant. He had to explain before she realized as well and he looked like a total lying creep.

“Lily, I can explain-“

“I’m Mark, I’m so sorry I’m so late. My car broke down and I didn’t have your number.”

They spoke at the same time, the real Mark reaching a hand out to shake Lily’s.

She didn’t take it. Instead she swiveled dumbly between the two staring accusingly at the real Mark. “You can’t be Mark. I’m having dinner with Mark. You must be here for someone else.”

“Lily, I really can explain if you’d just-“ James started again as Lily whipped around to face him. “You! You liar! Who are you?” She pushed back in her chair looking at him as suspiciously as if he had just announced he liked to moonlight as a serial killer in his spare time.

“I’m sorry, your name is Mark as well?” The real Mark stared down at James politely inquiring, as if this was all perhaps a genuine mix up and not a case of an imposter stealing his date.

“Not quite, its erm James. But truly if you think absolutely it the names are quite similar, the whole second letter being an A and the part about being in the Bible and what not.” Mark's eyebrows rose and Lily did not appear amused by his comparison.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to lie or anything, I just… you sat down and assumed I was Mark and I was actually meant to be meeting a friend but you were just so pretty and funny and I didn’t want you to feel like you’d been stood up so I thought I could come clean later but I just wanted to get to know you. I’m sorry, truly.” She looked at him, hurt and confused, and he just wanted to hang his head low and apologize another half dozen times.

“I can leave so you two can get on with your date,” his heart sank as he stood, gesturing the open chair to Mark without quite meeting his eye.

He forced himself to look up at Lily, “I really am sorry. It was really nice to meet you, have a nice evening.”

He turned lightly and began to head out of the restaurant, feeling Lily’s eyes burning into the back of his head even while he heard Mark sit down across from her and apologize again for his lateness.

He was barely out the door when he heard her yelling his name, his real name, from behind and spun back around to watch her jogging to catch up to him.

He braced himself for her to yell at him or hit him or completely tear him a new one and gave her a forced smile.

“Lily, I-“

“Is your name really James?” she huffed, somewhat out of breath.

“Erm yes. Just James. No Jim or Jay or weird nicknames really…” his right hand came up to ruffle the back of his hair, still anxiously waiting for her to scream at him.

She reached up on her tiptoes, hand snaking around the back of his neck (oh god she was gonna try and hold his head still so she could really hit him strongly) and used it to pull herself up closer and his head down and touch her lips lightly to his.

The light kiss sent shockwaves down his body as he froze, processing what was happening.

“I like the name James so much more.” She whispered against his lips, barely a breath away. That was all he needed to throw an arm around her waist and tuck her snugly against him, the other hand going to caress her cheek and bring his lips back to her, stronger than before. They kissed deeply and sweetly and he felt it down through his toes and in every single nerve in his body.

When they pulled apart, still wrapped up in each other, and she lightly hummed his name against him, he felt suddenly very sure that there was no sound better than her saying his name.

“So, I’d really like to do that again. And the date again. With you knowing my name the whole time preferably. Preferably right now. What's to say I go take care of the bill and you take care of the real Mark and we go get some ice cream, maybe?”

“What’s say we do.” She intertwined their fingers and pulled him lightly back towards the restaurant for a fresh start.

#jily #jily fic #jily fanfic #mywriting #jilytho #james potter #lily evans #harry potter fanfiction #jily au

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crazy4myself · 5 years ago

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No Harm List Pt.4

Word Count: 7.2k

Summary: You live in a city where crime runs rampant. One day, you save a young boy's life, not knowing that he is the most powerful crime lord's heir. And you have just been put on the no harm list.

Trigger warnings: DESCRIPTION OF PANIC ATTACK!! I really took my time with writing this, trying my hardest to convey these feelings without being triggering. I also tried to make it as comforting as possible, but if you are feeling a little anxious maybe save this fic for a better day. Mental health first!

Additional warnings: mentions of violence, explicit language, mentions of death,

Genre: Romance, angst, violence, gang/mafia AU,

Rating: 18+ (bc of mentions of violence there’s no sexual content)

<- Pt.3

"Hobi, I don't wanna be mad. I just wanna know the truth,” you pleaded, voice wavering. And that was the truth, you felt like you could care less if he was in a gang. It was Alcorn, you had to be in a gang to survive if you weren't rich.

Upon seeing your eyes water and your lip tremble, Hoseok instantly wished you would scream at him. He didn't want to hurt you. He didn't mean for it to go this far. For you two to get so close after his sister's death, or for him to lie to you for so long. He told himself he kept you out of it for your safety, but really it was just too easy for him to live two lives, for you to look at him like he wasn't a murderer and for him to pretend for a few hours that he wasn't.

He sighed, sitting on the couch, and you plopped down next to him and waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts.

"I guess it's best to start at the very beginning, which was when I was around 16," he started.

"I lived in the same neighborhood as these two guys RM and Suga. They had actually served some time for getting busted with another gang, the Dime Lions, they're long gone now but basically, some shit went down during some kind of gang raid, and RM and Suga ended up taking the fall for it. Instead of the Dime Lions busting them out of jail, they left them there and basically disowned them afterward."

You nodded along to let him know you were following.

"Anyways RM and Suga, they had a rough start when they got out of the gang, both were bastards, street rats on the Westside they never had anyone to look out for them. So they did the only thing they could do at the time to survive, which was breaking it to cars and shit and cleaning them out. I don't just mean personal belongings of these guys took engine parts, piping, tiers they took it all, and sold it to any scrap shops they could find. At the time, I was working at my uncle's scrapyard. I knew RM and Suga when they were in middle school before they joined the Dime Lions. They stayed with the foster family that lived in my neighborhood. I knew they had been kicked out of the house and were basically living with the Lion's, so when I saw they were working alone, I got curious. For a year or so, I convinced my uncle to continue buying from them even when he started getting a little suspicious about the guys stealing. The guys knew I looked out for them, and we were cool for a while. Then my mom got sick," he paused for a moment looking away from you.

You reached out and placed your hand on his leg knowing how hard it was for him to talk about his mom and Dawon.

Collecting himself, Hoseok went on, "So I asked for an in with the guys, I needed money and I knew cars. I could remove the parts more effectively than they could. I also knew some clientele who were always coming by and buying parts because they flip cars for fun, those guys were easy targets. So I guess the three of us were a little gang of misfits for a while, I used the money to help pay for mom's treatment. They used the money to survive.

Then we started taking some younger ones under our wing. RM and Suga got their own place and opened their doors to some kids in a rough spot like they were. But as we got bigger, we started getting sloppy. We had been at it for about a year at this point. The guys started taking on some other jobs, but I stuck to what I did best. I wasn't really interested in broadening my horizons. Like I said, we had been at it for a while, and I got cocky, I guess. We had a few scuffles here and there, but we always got out of them okay. Then one night, we got busted scraping a car at some guy's house, and he shot me in the leg, and the cops got me. RM ended up bailing me out of jail, and Suga, Suga got me a gun."

He shifted in his seat and looked at you nervously, "I wanted out at this point, mom was basically on her deathbed, and I was all Dawon had. I couldn't risk going to jail, ya know. I owed RM money for bail, but my uncle got me a job as an actual mechanic, I thought I could earn money the honest way, pay them back and then Dae and I could just go back to our lives. But then the doctors told us about some experimental treatment that could possibly cure mom. How the hell could I pass that up? I would have done anything to help her get better." his brows furrowed as he tightened his fist into balls.

"So I stayed. At this point, BTS was growing, it was an official gang, tattoo and all. We had recruited Jin, who came from money, he used some of his trust fund to fund BTS and help us grow, and RM was starting to get a little ambitious. He wanted territory, he wanted me to take the tattoo and be his third." Hobi squeezed his eyes shut as he let out a sigh, he felt like he had to force the words out of him to confess his sins to you.

"I told you Suga got me a gun after the arrest, and it ended up I'm a really good shot, so good I didn't even have to kill a guy for a long time. I researched where to shoot to keep someone down for a long while without it being fatal, so that's what I did. I worked a few more jobs for RM, we did a big heist. Actually, that was our big break. A team of six other guys and I broke into this old rich dude's mansion, nearly cleaned out his safe when we split the money most of the guys put a percentage into my pot. I walked out that night with almost enough to pay for mom's treatment in full.

I told RM I wouldn't be his third, and he offered me an out, I just needed to take one more job for him, and he would pay out the rest of mom's bills, so that's what I did. I killed for the first time, and then I was free. I wouldn't have to do any of it again. Well, that's what I intended," he paused, his voice growing softer.

You tried to keep your face neutral as he revealed the horrors to you. Not that it mattered Hoseok couldn't even bring himself to look at you.

"Mom ended up passing that night." he laughed, a bitter sound that felt foreign to the kind man you knew, "I swear whatever cruel god is out there pulling all the strings did it to punish me. To let me know, they saw what I had become and that I didn't deserve to have people I love in my life. I wasn't good enough to feel love in this world,"

"Hobi, that's not-" he cut you off with a bitter laugh as he looked upwards to hold back his tears. The motion made him seem as though he was searching for the fates he mocked. "Don't y/n, I know what I am,"

"Dae was a senior when mom passed, and it absolutely broke her. I had to fight to get her to go to school for those last few months. Hell, it was a fight to get her out of bed for her graduation. Her exit exams were a disaster, and the councilors at the college were understanding, for the most part. They still admitted her to the school, but not a drop of financial aid was offered to her. She deserved so much more," Hobi's voice was laced with bitter disdain, his eyes looking far off.

"So I did everything I could to give it to her. I borrowed from Namjoon, enough to cover her entire admission at Alcorn University."

"Hobi, that's so much," you couldn't hold the comment in. It was near impossible for an ordinary person to buy their way into Alcorn if they didn't get scholarships, the tuition at the prestigious school was over $20,000 a semester for admission alone.

"And I did it, I had Jin make up a fake scholarship for her, send her a cute little letter telling her about the award. She thought that she earned a full ride, and I let her believe it. I even borrowed enough so she would stay in the dorms, I figured it would be safest to keep her out of the house. I didn't know what kind of jobs RM was going to have me do."

"I took the tattoo, and killing became more of a normal thing for me. It started to get easier, I kept my distance and tried my hardest to not even see their eyes.

There was a big turf war that year. I don't know, the city was on the brink of a recession, a lot of big players in the city were changing the rules of the game. Business owners fought to take down other businesses simply so theirs could stay open, the market was a disaster. I never cared about the politics of any of it, I just did what I was told, and because of that, I'm still not totally sure all I did that year. What lives I took. Who all I hurt. I did everything I could to forget those nights and the blood. I told myself I was doing it for a good reason, ya know.

I didn't want to know, I thought I would save that for the day I'm standing outside of hell, and they list off every single one of my evil deeds before they sentence their judgment." Hoseok's vacant eyes started to shine with tears.

"And that was the stupidest fucking thing I could have ever done. I had no clue who had it out for me, I had started feeling invincible. I didn't even consider that someone would want to take their revenge, I had killed Kim Martin Sr.'s son."

Your blood chilled at the name, and he didn't look at you as he continued.

"He was some big business owner or something, I was supposed to kill him, but there was a mix-up, and I got his son, Kim Martin Jr. instead. Whoever made the call decided that killing his son was just as effective because the grief practically destroyed him. A few misguided stock investments, while he was grieving, crashed his empire. He lost everything and had to move to the Westside in the aftermath.

Suga kept good tabs on the guy, but then he fell off the grid. We figured he left town or hell maybe he died. We didn't consider him a threat, he showed no interest in coming after BTS, so I didn't even think to keep an eye out for Dawon."

You felt hot tears roll down your face as you realized what happened. The media painted Martin as the bad guy. They accused him of losing his business after his son died due to extreme drug abuse. The city officials wrote him off as such a pathetic low life, that come the time of his death that his murder was barely investigated. It was simply declared a drug deal gone wrong. But he was a father, a father who lost everything to a hitman and wanted to return the favor.

Hoseok believed he didn't deserve love. Whatever higher power that was calling the shots took everything away from him as punishment.

You think of your best friend now long passed, her beautiful smile and contagious laugh. The way she could always read you and knew exactly what you needed, whether it be your favorite ice cream on your period or a trip to the botanical gardens in the middle of the night when she knew you were missing home a bit more than normal.

There was a loose glass in the greenhouse that hosted the plants native to your home. You would both scale the fence to the gardens late at night and push that glass panel in and carefully crawl into the greenhouse. The air would be filled with the floral scents you grew up with, and you would just walk the rows of plants and run your fingers over the velvet petals and waxy leaves.

Until Dawon would play music, a playlist the two of you made of songs in your native tongue. You would dance around the humid greenhouse singing on the top of your lungs while Dawon would laugh and clap along, excitedly shouting with you when she recognized a word or two.

You thought about the way you and Hoseok both carried a burden of guilt after she passed. Until now, you had felt like you failed her as a best friend and roommate.

For three years, you had tortured yourself with thoughts like if you hadn't procrastinated so much on your assignments that week, you would have been home when she decided to make a late snack run. You told yourself the robber probably wouldn't have stopped her if you were together. You reasoned that two of you would have deterred her as a target.

Or maybe he would have just shot you instead. Dawon would have recovered from the loss so much better, she had Hoseok to comfort her and family and friends to support her. You were merely an exchange student in a city with no morals, loved by no one, but taken in out of guilt by her brother. It would've been a better trade.

You tortured yourself with these thoughts day and night consumed with feelings similar to survivor's guilt.

You never understood Hoseok's guilt, until tonight, you felt like there was nothing he could have done to make that night play out differently. But now you realize he could have anything, and it might have made a difference.

"Y/n, I understand if you hate me," Hoseok said softly, watching the tears that dripped down your cheek as you processed everything he told you.

"I wanted to honor Dawon's wish. I didn't expect you to do so much for me, for you to become my best friend and for you to make me feel normal. I kept this from you because you were the closest thing to her I had left. There was a time where I thought I would distance myself from you when you moved out. That I would just become another hazy detail to the tragedy, and you would move on completely with your life, but y/n you were so sad, and you needed me too.

When you moved out, I was terrified of something happening to you. I couldn't stop myself from checking up on you. I couldn't let us grow apart." Hoseok's voice broke off as you looked at him, the pain and betrayal in your eyes.

"Y/n, you're the closest thing I have to redemption, protecting you, being your friend is the last thread of humanity I have left, I can't lose you," he pleaded.

"You watched me blame myself," you whispered accusingly, your eyes shining with betrayal.

"You watched me tear myself apart, and used comforting me to make you feel better about yourself?"

He flinched at your words, "I tried everything I could to convince you there was nothing you could have done," Hobi argued feebly.

"Everything but tell the truth," you hissed as hot tears rolled down your cheek.

You got up as a sob escaped you, your face red and snot running from your nose. Hoseok stood with you, but you flinched away with a broken no.

"I need time, Hoseok," you begged.

You swallowed thickly as you did everything in your power to keep it together, "I don't want to hate you, but please, I need time to think about everything," you assured. Even knowing what he did, he was right. You needed him too. If you lost him, you truly didn't have anyone in the city who cared if you lived or died tomorrow. And maybe settling for that made you your own kind of monster.

It was funny how he claimed such a tarnished person could be his redemption.

You secure your bag to your shoulder, stepping out into the night air and pulling the door closed behind you. You couldn't even bring yourself to lock the door behind you, afraid that if you stopped moving for one second that you would completely break down and be unable to make it home. You only hoped Hoseok was smart enough to check the door behind you and make sure to lock it.

You counted the stairs as you made your descent and into the parking lot, making an effort to take in your surroundings. You tried to list off the colors of the cars as you passed them, and while some distant part of you did the action, you still felt like the effort wasn't reaching whatever corner of your brain you were hiding in.

You got a lot better with controlling your anxiety attacks as you made it further in college, even going as far as taking advantage of the university's free therapy sessions to get professional guidance in your junior year. You defaulted to your go-to grounding technique as your feet moved of their own accord to carry you home. 5,4,3,2,1 was an exercise that made you aware of your surroundings and tether yourself to this world when your mind felt a dimension away.

The technique walked you through your five senses, making you list off 5 things you could see, 4 things you could feel, 3 things you could hear, two things you could smell, and one thing you could taste. Even in your most anxious moments, you were a slut for making a good list. You always found this exercise more soothing than any breathing technique.

Your eyes searched without really seeing as you tried to find five things you could see around you. Straining yourself to really take in your surroundings, you settled for a yellow fire hydrant, a car parked on the side of the road, a penny on the ground, a drainage inlet tucked into the curb, and finally your own yellow shoes pacing down the concrete sidewalk.

You were going to be okay, you reminded yourself as you took an intentional breath.

Next, four things you can touch, you focused on your breathing as you reached an arm out to graze your fingertips along with the rough brick of the building you walked by.

You shifted a little more with each step, concentrating on how the fabric of your clothes moved across your skin and curling your toes into the padding of your shoes. You didn't count each feeling, your wandering mind struggling to really take in each sensation, but you were sure you touched four things by now.

This was a mistake you often caught yourself making when counting down like this. Sometimes you were in such a rush to reach the end and get to one as if identifying one taste would magically make all your anxieties go away that you forget to take it slow and really center yourself.

Three things you can hear, it was at the time, as you strained to let the world in through the all-consuming pounding of your heart in your ears, that you realized you were whimpering to yourself slightly. The awareness of your own vulnerability made you stumble as your mind spiraled, and you struggled to find something to tether you back to the earth.

You began walking faster before realizing you're not certain you were going the right way. So you came to a halt, realizing you couldn't bring yourself to focus enough to take in your surroundings. You stared at the street sign for a long time, repeating the letters to yourself as you made them form a word finally settling on Gardenia.

Your breathing hitched as you realized you had wandered off the main streets and into a neighborhood in your daze. You were lost, but you couldn't bring yourself to care about it, and the lack of fear flashed an alarm in your mind that let you know you were too far gone to count away your anxieties.

You struggled to breathe as you tried to come up with a decision. You needed to ground yourself to calm down. You needed to list off 5 things you could see, fourth things you could feel, three things you could hear, two things you could smell, and one thing you could taste. You knew the only way to bring yourself back to the world was to become aware of your settings.

But it felt as if the part of your brain that knew all these things didn't even touch whatever part of your mind was controlling you now. You were better off giving directions to the light pole you stood under.

You felt your breathing get harder as you desperately gasped in all the air you could. Your arms and legs began to tingle as your body over oxidized, and your head began to spin.

Slowly you slumped to the ground, wrapping your arms around the light pole you had stopped under as you spiraled.

What were you even doing before this moment? How did you even get here? You forced your eyes open wide, hoping the action would make you actually see and register what you were looking at to no avail.

What were you doing, what were you doing, what were you doing?

You struggled to reign in your thoughts of your laughing best friend and her crying brother. Or was it your crying best friend and his dead sister?

You were supposed to find three things you could hear. Your crying doesn't count. A more logical voice seemed to get through to you.

You strained your ears to hear past your own breathing, you could hear a frog croaking in the grass nearby, you felt the earth beneath you to confirm you had in fact settled in a patch of grass. You smiled to yourself proud of your progress as you continued to listen as you continued to listen. You heard the electricity buzzing in the light pole you had wrapped your arms around, you felt almost childlike as you opened your eyes. Actually, seeing this time as you looked up at the pole, you were around.

You needed one more sound, you strained your ears, expecting to be met with something like a far off car driving by. Instead, you heard your name being called. You blinked as you turned away from the street lamp and towards the repeating sound of a familiar set of syllables coming from a familiar voice.

Jungkook jogged up to as he saw you curled around a lamppost. Even from a distance, he could see the rapid way your chest was rising and falling in that familiar chaotic rhythm he only saw when he found Taehyung or Yoongi having a panic attack. You looked up at him with a tear-stained face and saw the confusion of his presence take you off guard and snap whatever control you had over yourself.

Your face crumpled as a sob broke from your chest, and you turned away from him and curled yourself around the light pole a little tighter.

Jungkook felt such a rush of guilt and panic at the sight of you so broken that he ignored the dull ache in his knees as he instinctively fell down in the grass next to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you from the cold metal pole, trying to position comfortably in his chest.

Jungkook shifted as he uncurled his legs from beneath his body and stretched them out next to yours in front of him, trying to touch as much of his body to you in comfort. You didn't resist, but the jolting motions did seem to make you more upset for a short moment. Jungkook realized he forgot to ask for permission to touch you before he acted.

He knew Tae preferred physical comfort to calm down, but sometimes it could act more as a trigger when unwelcomed. He loosened his grip hesitantly, and you wrapped your arms around his middle, hugging him closer to you in response.

Physical contact is. He thought to himself as he began stroking one hand up and down your back and rocking you both side to side slightly as if he was trying to calm a baby from a tantrum.

Which he basically was doing, you thought bitterly to yourself as you accepted the comfort.

You were too far gone to calm yourself down. You had ridden the river of upsetting thoughts that triggered your attack all the way down, and now you risked floating out to sea and losing yourself forever. Not actually forever, just until you would cry yourself unconscious and wake up to start anew. But you supposed accepting comfort was better than sleeping outside in a neighborhood you didn't know.

Jungkook whispered to you, not the sweet nothings people typically say when they see people break down like 'it's going to be okay,' or most annoyingly 'breath.' No Jungkook simply told you, 'you're safe,' 'take your time,' 'you're stronger than you give yourself credit for' and in your case most importantly, 'exhale.'

When people see you having a panic attack and hear the loud gasp you make as you fight to breathe, they instinctively tell you to breathe as a way to calm down. But it's your failure to let the air out that keeps your body over oxidized, making it harder for you to feel in control of yourself.

Slowly, you regained control of your body, and your desperate gasps for air morphed into shallow panting. Your shallow breathing morphed into soft whimpers and sniffled. Jungkook held you as your continuous knit itself together, and you faced the pain your mind was so desperate to escape.

He rubbed you back as you let out soft sobs as you reopened wounds that had healed into jagged scars. You cried for Dawon and her undeserved death. For Hoseok and the guilt you knew, he carried every day. You cried for Kim Martin, who died at the hands of the killer that stole his son. You cried for yourself, over the fear of the future as you saw it grow intimately tangled with a notorious gang.

You don't know how long Jungkook waited as you reeled yourself back together. He waited long after you finished crying, knowing just because you had control of yourself physically didn't mean you were mentally ready to face the world, so he wrapped you in his warmth and hummed to himself as he rocked you both slowly.

You loosened and tightened your grip on his shirt and curled and uncurled your toes as you tried to become more aware of your body. You were basically sprawled out on the grass with your upper body twisted and pulled into Jungkook's middle. It wasn't the most comfortable position, but you weren't willing to risk losing his warmth to move.

You licked your lips, and the jarring taste of your salty tears pulled you from your self pitying thoughts, deciding to work your way up the list you once again started to count.

One thing you taste, salt.

Two things you smell: you inhaled deeply and took in the smell of laundry detergent that clung to Jungkkook's shirt. "Detergent," you mumbled into his shirt, and the sound of a coherent word leaving you made Jungkook's humming stop as he looked down at you, nuzzling your face deeper into his chest. He held in his chuckle as you stiffed the air again, and confidently said, "and grass."

You finally pulled yourself away from him only slightly to turn your face away from him, your cheek still pressed against his chest.

"I can hear frogs, cars nearby, and.. your heart," you listed as you looked up at him from under you thick lashes still clumped with tears, "it's louder than mine," you observed as you listened to the hammering in his chest.

He was from a different kind of nerves.

He recognized the countdown and realized you were working to ground yourself, "What can you feel?" he prompted eager to get you to move on from his pounding heart.

"Your t-shirt, it's soft, the grass poking at me through my jeans, my bra digging into me" you wrinkled your nose as you became aware of the discomfort.

"And?" Jungkook prompted. A smile curled your lips as you looked up at him mischievously, "You're abs," you giggled as you sat up, finally pulling away from him. Jungkook felt the heat crawl up his neck as he turned away, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully.

"And what do you see?" he asked gently, looking everywhere but you.

You smiled at his bashfulness as you look around, "I see the street sign, the green grass," you pause as you squint, "I think that's either a rock or some dog poop over there," Jungkook let out a startled laugh. You smiled to yourself proudly as you continued.

"Our shadows from the street light, and,” you pause realizing how close the two of you are, "the little mole underneath your lip."

"Good," he whispered, and you watched in fascination how his lips formed the words, "Are you ready to get up now, or do you need a few minutes?" he asked. It was the way his mouth twisted into a smile at the end of the sentence that made you realize you were still staring at his lips. You blinked before looking up at his eyes, which was alight with a teasing glint.

"I can stand," you answered, flustered as you pulled your body away from him. Maneuvering your feet beneath you to get up. Jungkook offered you a hand once he was up helping pull you to your feet, before bending down and grabbing your purse for you. Your feet still tingled in that pins and needles feeling. You wiggled your hands to wake up your fingers as well, but other than that, you felt like you recovered from the physical toll of the panic attack quite well.

"C'mon my place is at the end of this road, let me grab a car and drive you home," he offered.

You walked with him obediently, your hands brushing past each other twice before Jungkook's hand finally snatched yours mid-swing; you looked down and watched as your fingers intertwined with his effortlessly. You looked to him to see a change in his expression, but he looked straight ahead as he walked, acting as if nothing happened.

You smiled at yourself, thankful for the affection. You always did get a little clingy after panic attacks, relying heavily on skinship and the feeling of someone taking care of you as a way to feel calm. You were surprised how easy it was for you to let Jungkook fall into that roll despite barely knowing him. But you suppose in the handful of interactions the two of you shared, he's always prioritized your comfort and safety.

"This is your house?" you asked as you took in the massive white art deco house behind the gate you stopped in front of. The gate buzzed and rolled open for the two of you of its own accord and rolled open for the two of you.

Jungkook smiled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah, kinda," he said with a shrug.

You raised a brow, "kinda?"

"It's complicated, c'mon let's get you home," he said with a tug reminding you that the two of you were still holding hands. You flushed but followed obediently as you made your way to the garage.

You squinted as your eyes were met with a flood of fluorescent light upon opening the door. A row of vehicles lined its way down the length of the garage, varying from sports car, to jeep, to a large black truck at the end of the row. A line of 4 motorcycles along the furthest wall.

"J-Hope sells Namjoon a car any chance he gets," Jungkook chuckled as he took in your awed expression.

"J-Hope?" you questions, and Jungkook's smile faltered.

"That's what we call Hoseok," he clarified.

You nodded in understanding, "Like how Taehyung goes by V?" you asked, and he nodded.

"Hoseok, does he sell drugs like V does?" you asked curious of what all Hoseok's gang involvement entailed.

Jungkook opened his mouth to answer but was cut off as the adjacent door slammed up from what looked to be inside the house, revealing a man in a black t-shirt with a mop of platinum blond hair.

"There you are," he practically growled as he stormed in the room.

The man was dwarfed by Jungkook a good bit, but somehow Jungkook seemed to cower and appear smaller as the man approached, dropping your hand as if he were caught doing something he shouldn't.

You looked at him curiously and wondered if he was.

"Yoongi hyung," he greeted as he tried to force a smile, "I was just about to-"

"Save it," he snapped, "I have half the army out looking for you, ya know," he turned his fury to you much to your surprise as he added "both of you."

Your mouth fell open, shocked by the confusion apparent on your face as he continued, "Do I need to babysit both of you, because believe it or not, she's taking up a lot of my time. I really can't handle you getting flakey on me Jungkook, we need to know that you're safe,"

Jungkook looked down as he lectured, murmuring a small apology.

"And you" Yoongi turned to you, "That goes for you too, the Black Tips are still on your tail, I can't do much for you if you go running off,"

"Hyung," Jungkook hissed. "Not now, please."

Yoongi blinked at his younger in surprise, turning to you and making a point to really look at you, and take you in. Your red-rimmed eyes and splotchy face, the way you seemed to lean into Jungkook. He recognized that far off look in your eyes like you had to concentrate on being present in the moment, and Yoongi remembered the warning in Hoseok's earlier message when he told him you had run out.

"Yeah, okay, get her home and come straight back when you're done, we still need to talk," he said dismissively. None of your questions were answered, but you didn't resist as Jungkook put a hand on your back and guided you towards a nearby car.

"Good night, princess," Yoongi called over his shoulder before closing the door behind him. Unlike with Jimin, you felt like you were being mocked when Yoongi called you that.

"Who was that, your brother, and why did he say he needs to babysit me?" you questioned as you both settled into the fine black vehicle the windows were so deeply tinted on the outside you wondered if it was safe to drive at night, but upon getting in the car, you noted that you could see through the windows clearly.

Jungkook waited until after he put the key in the ignition and backed out into the driveway before he started talking."That's Yoongi hyung or Suga, he's head of surveillance for BTS. He was the one who sent out a message to go escort you home when J– Hobi Hyung told him you were upset and left his apartment so late. I was on my way in that direction when I ran across you on our street," he said, breaking at a stop sign and turning on the blinker.

You looked out the window as you took in everything he's told you, noting that you were stopped again by the light pole you had a panic attack under. Suga was one of the original members in Hoseok's story. You thought to yourself as you connected the dots. Your head still felt a little foggy as you recovered from the literal mental breakdown. The sudden change of lighting earlier had started to make your head throb. You were ready for bed.

"Hobi sent people to look for me?" was all you could manage, not entirely understanding the emotions stirring in your chest.

"Well yeah, I mean, I was supposed to escort you home after work, and you kind changed plans, so we had to roll with them. I figured Hoseok would have taken you home after everything, so I didn't wait around. And then when Suga did send out the message I didn't notify them that I found you it was dumb on my part," he clarified.

You leaned onto the console between the two of you, propping your cheek upon your hand in a way that squished your lips into a slight pout. Jungkook tried not to stiffen as you got more in his space. Peeking down at you through his peripherals he saw your brow furrow as you processed everything.

"Why do you care?" you finally settled on asking as you still struggled to pinpoint why so many people would be worried about your safety.

Hoseok, you understood, to a certain extent, you even understood why he called in the favor. He knew your patterns and signs, you were probably shouting you were about to have an attack with your body language as you walked out the door. He knew he could never comfort you, not when he was the trigger. What you didn't understand was why BTS would listen.

"Because you're still not safe, and BTS took responsibility for your safety when I did," Jungkook said, simply turning to look at you as he stopped at a red light.

If you were in the right state of mind, such a comment would have triggered an immediate fight. You had been on your own for far too many years to suddenly need a whole gaggle of men to tend to you as if you were some helpless girl. You were a grown-ass woman. But you weren't yourself as you searched for a response in the fog of your mind.

"You're not responsible for anything about me?" you said softly as you shifted to rest your hand on your chin.

"Y/n what all did Hoseok hyung tell you?" Jungkook asked, confused, you weren't rejecting his protection, you just seemed oblivious. He assumed the cat was out of the back as soon as you learned what BTS was, who they were concerning you.

"Just how he joined BTS as how he ya know," you stuck your pointer finger and thumb in the air making soft 'pew pew' sounds. You couldn't bring yourself to talk seriously about the subject. Too much of this night had been severe for your liking.

"Y/n, you saved my life last week," Jungkook said, trying to look in your eyes and convey all his gratitude. You shifted under his stare.

"I wouldn't call it that," you murmured, turning away, "The lights green," you added flatly trying to turn his attention from you. He ignored you and placed a warm hand over yours.

"I would, and because of that, I and all of BTS owe you a life debt. We want to protect you as best as we can, especially since you're not totally safe from the guys you saved me from," he emphasized.

You looked up at him owlishly as you thought over everything he said. But whatever you were going to say died on your lips as a car honked its horn behind you. You both jumped startled, and the intensity of the moment evaporated slightly.

After a few moments of silence, you decided he didn't require a response. You can't imagine you would give a correct one anyways. You looked down at your hand, his larger one still resting atop your own and turned your wrist quickly and intertwining your fingers.

You rode in silence the rest of the way home, and you were fighting your eyelids as you pulled up to your complex.

Jungkook wondered if you always fell asleep in the car even with dangerous men. He wondered if that's why he never sees you take the bus at night.

"You really should consider living somewhere safer," Jungkook muttered under his breath as he shut off the engine.

You bit your tongue holding in several comments and gave a noncommittal 'mmm' as you unbuckled and stepped out the car to see he planned to walk you to your door again.

You grew embarrassed as you climbed the stairs and scrambled to think of parting words dwelling on everything Jungkook had done for you that night, "Thank you," you finally forced yourself to say. Jungkook looked down at you as you came to a halt in front of your door. "For earlier, with the crying and the counting," you offered awkwardly your eyes looking everywhere but his as you breached the sensitive topic.

"Oh, it wasn't a problem, really. I'm glad I could help" he laughed nervously, and you smiled, reaching for his hand before he could bring it to the back of his head, a nervous habit you were quickly picking up on him having.

"I'm serious Jungkook, a lot of people freak out and make the situation much worse for me, and I get it seeing someone crying like that it's never an easy thing to react to, but you did—" you hesitated as you searched for the right words, "You were good, comforting."

You didn't give yourself time to question it as you stood on your tiptoes, deciding to convey your gratitude in a way that your stuttering mouth wouldn't botch, and grazed a small peck aiming for his cheek. Unfortunately, the height difference and your own lack of balance had you landing more on his jawline. Jungkook gasped only slightly at the feeling of your soft lips on his jaw, the heat of your body radiating off of you in your nearness. You smiled at him again as you turned towards the door to unlock it.

"Haha yeah, happy to hear that," he responded, his voice crawling in pitch as he ordered his heart to beat, and you gave him another warm smile as you pushed open your door.

"Good night, Jungkook."

"Good night, Ella."

Jungkook's face split into a grin as you closed the door, a hand reaching for his jaw and pressing against where you kissed him as if it would simulate the feeling. His steps seemed to bounce as he made his way down the concrete stairs and back to his car.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading please tell me what you think! Your comments make me eager to write more :)

Pt.5 ->

#bts fic #jungkook x reader #bts mafia au #btsghostie #bangtanhq #btsbookclub #btsguild #bangtanscenery #bts gang au #gangster jungkook #gangster yoongi #gangaster taehyung #gangster hoseok #jungkook au #bestfriend hoseok #no harm list #crazy4myself fic #drug dealer teahyung #jungkook fluff

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