#i have been sitting at a desk doing nothing for approximately 5 hours now.
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tagged by @theclowncowboy thank youuu. true to my word i am doing this because im bored at work
1. are you named after anyone?
named myself so technically yes named after young neil from scott pilgrim. also my middle name is my grandad's.
2. when was the last time you cried?
uhhhh probably a while ago i dont really cry. lets say like a year or two ago. i dont count crying at movies because thats not organically caused by my emotions
3. do you have kids
i WISH. not right now and not for a long time but i would like kids someday...
4. what sport did you play/ have you played?
None ^_^ i like ice skating recreationally
5. do you use sarcasm?
? yes of course
6. what’s the first thing you notice about people?
probably hair im really bad at paying attention to what people look like until i actually know them
7. what’s your eye color?
dark brown
8. scary movies or happy endings?
both :) very odd dichotomy being presented here
9. any talents?
sure i dont keep a list but i would generally say im a pretty capable person. im good at writing...singing..organizing..et cetera
10. where were you born?
scotland :3
11. hobbies?
poetry, collage-making, watching movies, reading, uhhhh making spreadsheets..
12. do you have any pets?
not anymore my cat just died a few months ago
13. how tall are you?
5'1" :/
14. fave subject in school?
like in high school? probably english or math. right now currently it would probably be my metadata class
15. dream job?
some sort of archivist... which is also what i am right now but the dream would be to have an actual full time permanent job. i think the goal rn is to land a cataloging job
i taggg.... @tabiheel @fortheturnstiles @saulgoodmanonlyfans.... and YOU
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Hi! I would like a request about Derek from teen wolf, please. The reader is trying to approach him, taking care of him "because Derek is too busy taking care of the others", BUT IT'S BEING SO HARD because of all of his past. Derek and the reader argue one night because of the overprotective nature of the reader about him, and when she tries to leave the loft, completely upset with Derek, he tries to fix things between them. Could you do this with a lot of angst and, then, tons of fluff? Thanks!
Ignored
Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader
Warnings: Angst bbyyyy, and some fluffy goodness at the end, not checked over (so probably a crap ton of spelling errors)
A/N: hello hope you enjoy, sorry it took forever! I’m so busy with work, college and personal issues that writing has been put on the back-burner.
When the name Derek Hale was mentioned- one immediately thought of the broody, salty, sarcastic young man who lived by himself after the tragic Hale house fire.
Nobody would ever associate the name Derek Hale and caring. It just wasn’t in his nature. Because under no circumstances could Derek be remotely kind, caring or soft in any way possible.
That’s what people thought of Derek. But not you- or the majority of the pack for that matter.
Yes, you saw where others came from with their ideas and judgement (Derek’s lack of colour in his wardrobe obviously didn’t help either).
But to you when you heard the name Derek Hale, you immediately thought of the kind hearted man who would give up anything for the safety of his friends and family (as much as he claimed otherwise).
You knew him differently, you knew him like the back of your hand. You knew that his favourite food was Spagetti Carbonara without the mushrooms, that he didn’t like Coca Cola, that he secretly loved watching trashy tv shows like keeping up with the kardashians, and most importantly that he was running himself ragged.
He had bitten off more than he could chew when it came to helping everyone out. He was the one giving lifts and helping with homework and hosting pack nights, and handling Isaac’s nightmares, all of this happening at the same time as some supposed lizard creature being on the loose.
You had been ignored by Derek Hale for approximately 72 hours. Now this wouldn’t be bad if it weren’t for two things.
1. He wasn’t aware that he was actively ignoring you.
2. The idiot wasn’t your husband of 2 years.
Over 68 hours ago you hadn’t minded, you had even brushed the silence and distance off- knowing that Derek liked to have a little time to himself.
But when it hit the 5 hour mark of the 4th day, frustration and disappointment had begun to set in.
There was one more thing that made the whole situation worse. He was blatantly ignoring you- and only you.
It hurt. You could admit that to yourself easily without any qualms at all. It hurt.
Whether that was to do with the whole ‘mate’ side of things you didn’t know- all that you did know was that Derek Hale was drowning and he wasn’t going to swim until everyone else was okay.
-
Thud, thud, thud, creaak
“Der please sit down”
“I can’t. I gotta figure this shit out before the school finishes for the day.” Derek grunted from his spot in the middle of the room. His head firmly stuck in the thick, dusty book that he had been pouring through for the majority of the afternoon.
“Der please, take a break.” You pleaded with him, begging him to just stop for a second and relax.
“I can’t,” Derek murmured again, before he pivoted in his heel and walked away up the staircase.
His heavy footfalls retreated upstairs, the musty book still clutched in his grasp.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you willed the tears in your eyes to stay put and to not roll down your cheeks in fat drops.
Why couldn’t you be enough for him?
-
The next plea came around 2 hours later, when you brought a bowl of homemade pasta and garlic bread up to Derek. Hoping that just maybe it would strike up a conversation, that maybe he would utter more than two short sentences to you.
“Babe- I made you lunch.” You elbowed your way into the room, balancing the bowl and plate in your hands.
“Just leave it on the desk.” He motioned to an empty slot on the overcrowded surface.
“I just thought that maybe we could have lunch together, have some time with each-other.”
“Y/N/N’s I would- but I have so much to do. Stiles and Scott are already on my ass about the damn lizard freak in town.”
“Der, you need to take a break.” You placed your hands on his shoulders. Instead of feeling them relax you could feel his muscles tense up.
Shrugging your hands off, he pushed the fresh plate of food away, “I can’t.” He spoke simply.
“But-“ you tried to object in protest, trying to plead with the broad shouldered man in front of you- hoping that maybe, just maybe he would come to his senses.
He did not.
“I said no Y/N.” Derek ground out, “I’m busy. Please for the love of God stop bothering me.”
The words stung you, causing you to stumble back in shock. Derek had a hard exterior, everybody knew that. But he had never spoken like that to you.
He had promised on your wedding day that he would always be kind, that he would be your biggest supporter and largest source of love.
But all those words felt like lies now. You felt alone, like an empty shell of yourself. Why couldn’t you just be enough?
-
Hours flew by, the watch on Derek’s wrist occasionally beeping to signify the new hour. If he were being honest- he had lost track of what the time was.
The only signifier was that Stiles, Scott and the others were in his presence- meaning it was at least 4pm
And judging by the sky outside of his office window, it was late evening, as the sky itself had melted from cool blues into a fantastic array of oranges and purples.
But besides the low chatters and bickering coming from Isaac and Stiles, the house felt almost too quiet.
There was no tv hum coming from the living room, no occasional flush or running of water from the restroom, no sizzle from food coming on the oventop, no sound of a page in a book turning. Nothing. Just silence.
“Hey Derek,” He looked up to see Scott staring at him, “Where’s Y/N?”
“Well-“
“Yeah, I haven’t seen her yet today.” Isaac chimed in.
“I’m not actually too sure.”
Derek was met with a sea of blank stares.
“I’m sorry- there’s a kanima out there roaming Beacon Hills, the very same kanima that is killing more people by the day. And you don’t know where your wife is?” Stiles asked incredulously, “Are you kidding me.”
“Well I’ve been so caught up on this research that I haven’t been spending as much time with her.” Derek attempted to defend himself.
“Derek, please tell me that you haven’t been ignoring your wife.”
Everybody had there eyes on him again.
“Well-“
There was an uproar of protests, all of which were yelling at Derek for ignoring and deserting his wife.
“You better find her Derek, before something happens and you regret it for the rest of your life.”
-
You really didn’t know how long you had been out here for. All you knew was that the night was closing in and the chill was setting in your bones.
But you didn’t want to go back to the loft, you honestly didn’t think you could handle seeing Derek after his outburst earlier.
The cold, damp ground soaked into your body- sucking all the warmth out of your body at a creeping pace.
The spot you sat in, hadn’t changed much since your first date with Derek. It was still isolated and it gave off the best views in Beacon Hills. Nobody knew about it but you and Derek.
Sighing deeply, you looked out over the viewing point- watching the tiny specks of light flicker in the distance. Every single light showed a different life that was being lived, each one with their own struggles. Beacon Hills was something else to say the least.
“I knew I could find you here.” A familiar voice broke your train of thought.
You kept silent, staring straight ahead, willing that your bottom lip wouldn’t start trembling and the flood gate wouldn’t open in your eyes.
“Look I’m sorry.”
You sniffed, still unable to look your husband in the eyes, “Are you though?” You briefly shut your eyes to stop any tears from breaking through, “or are you just saying that to get on my good side.”
You could feel Derek’s presence settle down besides your own. His breath creating little puffs of mist under the dark sky.
“I didn’t realise you were trying to help me, until it was too late and you’d left the apartment” He muttered, “It’s my fault, I should’ve taken your advice, I should’ve listened to you.”
You listened intently, knowing his words were sincere and heartfelt, “Why didn’t you listen to me then Der?” You responded bitterly.
“Because accepting help means showing weakness, and showing weakness is something I haven’t done since before the fire.” Derek’s voice was small now, “Before I met you, accepting help was off the table- I was a lone wolf, with no pack or family. And now I’ve found you and I’m desperate to not lose that again, I can’t lose you to this new threat in town- I can’t be alone again.”
Silence hung heavy in the air as your husband’s words set in. It made sense to you; why he was studying non-stop, why he had barely slept or ate.
It was apparent that while he was trying to protect his loved ones, he was also pushing them away in the process. That needed to change.
“You won’t be alone Der,” You lay your head down on his shoulder, “I promise that much- it’s you and me forever.”
“Through every supernatural event that happens in this town?”
You giggled softly, “Yes, and every single thing in between.”
#derekhale#derek hale#derek hale x reader#derek hale x you#derek hale imagines#teen wolf imagine#teen wolf masterlist#teenwolf#teen wolf#requested
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I saw this post from @starker-secrets and had to write something.
"I need more of Tony spying on Peter thru his suit"
Hope you enjoy :)
~~
“Sir, Mr. Parker’s suit is transmitting audio that the Baby Monitor Protocol has flagged as potentially distressed. Would you like to hear it?”
“Yeah, give it to me FRI.”
Gasps sounded through the suit’s speakers as Tony flew from the partially built upstate facility back to Avengers tower. It sounded at first like Peter was in pain, and Tony’s heart dropped to his stomach as he sped up. But then a soft moan filtered through, and Tony’s heart dropped even further. Faintly, he could hear slick noises, softly squelching in the rhythm a fist would make over an approximately 5.4 inch long object. Peter wasn’t in distress. Quite the opposite in fact.
Tony’s dick got hard so fast it made him dizzy. He faltered slightly in his flight, overcorrecting when he tilted.
Peter was apparently done with his patrol for the day, if this audio was anything to go by.
A student at NYU, Peter had refused Tony’s offer of a fully paid tuition, and was instead paying for his schooling himself. Because of the whole Neighborhood Spider-Man deal, he couldn’t work enough jobs to pay for both an apartment and the tuition, and have enough time to be Spider-Man and a normal student, so he had accepted Tony’s offer of an apartment. He had initially refused that as well, but after Tony cited his endless supply of wealth, as well as Peter’s need for privacy due to his costumed alter-ego, Peter reluctantly accepted.
That privacy was now being used to its full advantage. The moans currently caressing Tony’s ears were increasing in both volume and frequency.
Feeling guilty and more and more like the creepy old man he pretended not to be, Tony was about to open his mouth to tell FRIDAY to cut the sound, when the slick noises suddenly sped up.
Peter, alone in his apartment that Tony bought for him, jerking off while wearing the suit Tony made for him, was about to come, and Tony was going to hear the whole thing. Fumbling, Tony put the suit in FRIDAY’s control, not trusting his unfocused eyes and racing heart to steer him home. Breathing hard, he turned his full attention to the delicious noises echoing in his helmet.
“Unh, fuck. Ah— ah— ah—“
Peter cut off with a gasp, before he stopped breathing entirely. After a silent, expectant moment, his voice broke on a loud moan as he presumably came, all over his multi-million dollar suit.
Tony’s dick was currently trying to poke a hole through the hard metal casing of his own suit. He was aching, literally aching, to get home and peel it off, and finally indulge in the thoughts he hadn’t let himself think for the past year.
Listening to Peter’s heavy breathing as he recovered, Tony thought back to when he first met Peter.
Freshly eighteen and a new freshman in college, Peter was understandably scared when Tony dropped into his dorm room to accuse him of vigilante-ing, and to ask him to help in Germany. Tony knew Peter had an aunt in Queens, and he was considering using her as leverage, when Peter agreed to fly to Leipzig and miss a week of classes. He had done well, had helped Tony try to keep the Avengers together (which actually did nothing but tear them further apart, but that was in no way Peter’s fault), and had gone back to his dorm room with Tony’s promise of a call.
Of course Tony had found Peter attractive. With big eyes framed by thick lashes, a strong and muscular body hidden under large hoodies and sweatpants, with a bright and easy smile, he was charming in his excitement and naïveté. He was almost too pure, his rosy cheeks and soft skin so obviously a metaphor for an angel it could hardly be called a metaphor anymore.
Peter was legally an adult, yes, but Tony was his mentor, and Peter was almost thirty years Tony’s junior. He didn’t have the weight of thousands of lives and a failed marriage and a broken team dragging down his shoulders like Tony had, either. That shit aged you.
So Tony had locked his impure thoughts away in a little box in his brain, only taking it out sometimes to look at it, but never to open it.
But now, the little box had been blown wide open, and all the thoughts Tony had smothered were back in full force. Thoughts like how Peter would look with tears of pleasure beading at the corners of his eyes, how he would look with cum splattered on his cheeks, how he would moan high and pretty when Tony licked him just so, how his lithe back would arch, how his mouth would drop open when Tony first pushed inside him, how he would look up at Tony in rapture, with love in his eyes— No. That was too far. Tony couldn’t afford to think like that.
When Peter’s breathing finally evened out, Tony cleared his throat and said, “Cut the sound, FRI.”
Taking control of his suit back once he reached Manhattan, Tony angled his way down to the landing pad of the tower. Once he landed the suit opened up, letting him stumble his way out on trembling legs. His slacks were uncomfortably tight. Finally making it back to his room and collapsing on his bed, he shoved his hand down his pants, closed his eyes, and let his hind brain take over. Trying to ignore the guilt settling like acid in his stomach.
—
Peter had known for weeks about the Baby Monitor Protocol. He didn’t know if it was just tracking his location, or sending information, or even recording, so he did a little hunting. Finding in the code and his suit only a tracker and an outgoing connection to the microphone in his mask, he figured that Karen was constantly transmitting audio and general location information to FRIDAY.
Swinging between buildings on his way home one afternoon after patrol, he thought about what that meant. It made him a little hot under the collar knowing that Mr. Stark could hear everything he was doing when he was wearing the suit, could be listening at all times. Listening to Peter helping old ladies across the street, saving a man from a mugging, panting with exertion— would he think his heavy breathing was from something else?
The thought made Peter miss his next web shot and he had to scramble to make sure he didn’t smash into a street lamp. Warmth bloomed into his cheeks and down his neck. His suit was starting to feel uncomfortably tight, and he swung faster.
Making it to his living room window, he dropped in on silent feet. He stumbled his way to his couch, slumping down until his head was resting on the back of it. Opening the secret seam at his waist Mr. Stark made when Peter complained about needing to pee when he was patrolling (and God what Mr. Stark would say if he knew what it was being used for now—) he slipped his hand in to palm at his aching cock. Groaning in relief, he closed his eyes and gave in to the pleasure.
What if Mr. Stark were listening? Would he be disgusted? Would he turn off the audio as soon as he knew what Peter was doing? Or would he be intrigued, aroused, at the thought of Peter defiling his multi-million dollar gift?
Peter did just that when the thought popped into his head, sending streaks up his chest almost to his masked chin. Body still jolting in the aftershocks, what he just did finally registered in his head.
Gasping in panic this time, rather than pleasure, he ripped his mask off and flung it across the room, peeling his suit off next. What was he thinking? There was no way Mr. Stark would he anything other than disgusted with what he heard, if he heard it at all. Not to mention, Peter had violated Mr. Stark. Guilt and panic started to clog his throat, and he resolved to never do it again.
—
A few weeks later, Peter relaxed back on his bed and pulled his mask off. He wiped his sweaty hair off of his forehead and grinned. Fuck. That was good.
He wasn’t sure if Mr. Stark was listening, but honestly it didn’t matter, because that was one of the best orgasms he’d ever had. He’d imagined that Mr. Stark was teasing him, was keeping him balanced on the edge, whispering how Peter’s pleasure was his, his to create and control.
After the last time he jerked off in the suit, he had resolved to never do it again. But that was only until Peter saw the way Mr. Stark watched him. Peter wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, imagining something he only wished was there, but he could almost feel the heated gaze Mr. Stark sent him tingling down his spine. When they worked in Mr. Stark’s workshop side by side, Peter modifying his web shooters and Mr. Stark tinkering on his cars, or making an entirely new Iron Man suit, or just generally flitting between projects, Peter felt that Mr. Stark was doing a lot more tripping over his feet and burning his fingers than actually paying attention to what he was doing. Peter liked to imagine that this distraction was because of him, and not because of something else.
So Peter decided to do what Peter does best; solve the shit out of this problem. After class he changed into the tightest shirt he owned, and some gym shorts with a 5-inch inseam, ones he only bought because MJ slipped it into his basket at Target when he wasn’t looking. He felt distinctly uncomfortable on the subway to Stark Tower, but the thought of Mr. Stark’s (hopefully) flustered face was enough to steel his resolve.
He wasn’t disappointed. Mr. Stark practically did a spit-take when Peter walked out of the elevator into the workshop, eyes tracing up and down his body.
“Hey Mr. Stark,” Peter said, dropping his backpack off at his work station and sitting down, projecting a casual air.
“H-hey, Peter.”
Peter grinned down at the desk top. Mr. Stark never stuttered. That was almost a written confirmation of his hypothesis in Peter’s eyes.
The next night before his patrol, Peter settled down onto his bed, wearing his mask but no suit, preparing to have a fantastic next hour.
Which he definitely did.
—
In the weeks that followed the first time, Tony felt unbearably dirty, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. How Peter’s moans sounded. How he might look, wracked with pleasure, his face slack and pink mouth open, eyes rolled back. Peter’s moans and pretty gasps haunted his every waking moment, and most of his sleeping moments too. He’d often wake up with sticky boxers, something that hadn’t happened to him since he was a teenager. A teenager like Peter, oh god.
He’d taken to wearing an earpiece, not visible of course, that connected directly to FRIDAY in case he was out of the tower or away from his suit when Peter next indulged in, ahem. Some personal time.
But it hadn’t happened again since the first time. Unfortunately. Or maybe fortunately. Maybe if Tony didn’t hear it again he would stop thinking about it. Maybe then he could go back to pretending he wasn’t that creepy old man. Who was he kidding, he still was. Peter had walked into the workshop the previous day wearing very short shorts and a tight shirt, his tan legs and leanly muscled chest taunting Tony as they worked. But he could at least try to not creep on Peter electronically.
“Sir, Mr. Parker’s suit is transmi—“
There goes that.
Tony looked around the hallway he was in in the upstate facility, and snuck into an empty conference room. He quickly locked the doors and asked FRIDAY to black out the windows.
“Let me hear it.”
Moans filled his ear again, closer this time, more intimate. It sounded also as if the audio was clearer. Tony could hear more things now. Like how Peter’s breath would hitch on a moan right after the slick noises of his fist slowed down or stopped entirely— was he teasing himself? would he like to be teased for hours if Tony were there? Tony could bring him to the edge over and over, watch the flush move down Peter’s cheeks to his chest, watch his cock twitch every time Tony let go, watch tears of frustration start to fall down his pretty face—
—and how there was also the dry rasping sound of skin on skin, followed by a sharp gasp— was he caressing his chest, running his fingers over his nipples, pinching them? twisting them? did Peter like pain? would he like it if Tony sucked dark bruises all over his body, biting them deeper, leaving his mark—
(—it didn’t occur to Tony to wonder why Peter’s chest was bare but the suit was transmitting audio, meaning Peter was wearing the mask and only the mask—)
—and this time when Peter was about to come Tony heard that the sound of his fist moving over his cock stopped, and instead there was a softer sound, quick and frantic but still gentle and wet— like Peter was rubbing his first two fingers on the spot right under the head of his cock, the most sensitive part, like he was letting the heat build and build rather than letting it take over immediately, letting the warm ache spread out into his pelvis and thighs and lower back, building and building, until the pleasure became too hot and he had to wrap his fist back around the head and squeeze gently, gasping through the waves and waves of pleasure—
Tony gasped through his own orgasm, not realizing that he’d snuck his hand down his slacks while he was listening. He shivered as he came back down.
“Shit. Fuck. Shit fuck. Fuck.” Tony cursed quietly under his breath as he carefully pulled his hand from out of his boxers. “Cut the sound, FRI.”
He looked down at his dirty hand, wondering how he was going to get out of this room and hallway undetected.
“What the hell am I doing?”
—
Peter jerks off in the suit several more times over the next few weeks, each time so full of mind-melting pleasure it leaves him gasping for minutes after. His guard is starting to drop, the idea of Mr. Stark hearing him, and his fantasies of Mr. Stark being there, have made him reckless.
It all comes to a head one Thursday night. Peter had just received an A on one of his midterms, and wanted to reward himself (not that there was any chance he wouldn’t do well on the midterm, but it’s the thought that counts), so he settled in for a long, luxurious jerk-off session.
“Uh— uh— yeah—“
Fuck it felt good. If only Mr. Stark were here. He’d trace his fingers up and down Peter’s flanks, nip possessively at his neck, cover Peter’s fingers on his cock with his own. He’d wring the pleasure out of Peter so skillfully and thoroughly that Peter would be able to do nothing more than shiver and cry under his calloused hands.
Forgetting himself, and who could be listening, Peter gasped out “Mr. Stark—“
“Calling Mr. Stark now,” came Karen’s cool voice.
Eyes popping open Peter yelped, frantically shouting “No! Wait—“
With a gentle bing, the phone call connected. Fast and heavy breathing followed by Mr. Stark’s unusually rough and breathless voice filled Peter’s ears.
“…Peter?”
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For a little over a month now, you had been dating Duncan Shepherd, and it was...surprisingly low-key considering how high-profile he was. That's not to say that this is a bad thing. In fact, it's been really nice. Dinner dates at the backs of restaurants, movie nights at your place, even just driving aimlessly and talking with each other. Over the past month, you've gotten to really know the man that many magazines refer to as "untouchable," finding out that those assumptions are all lies. In fact, you've never been so comfortable in the beginning stages of a relationship with someone before.
Which is why you're waiting for the other shoe to drop.
You're not used to things going so good for you. Work, personal life, relationships--all manage to end up going in the opposite direction of where you wanted them to go. This is probably the reason that it took three weeks of Duncan chasing after you after meeting at a work conference (you'll never forget watching this 30-something man who had been covered in Forbes walk up to a group of late Millenials/early Gen Zs and look entirely out of his element) before you agreed to go out with him. You're just naturally guarded, and there's nothing wrong with that. But, you'll admit, it is nice to be vulnerable sometimes. Especially when that results in an extremely beautiful man taking out out and showering you with attention.
Said beautiful man is who makes your phone buzz on your desk. It's 3:30 on a Friday, and you're really not doing much work anyways.
"It's a beautiful day out, are you up for ditching work and going for a walk through the park?"
You feel yourself flush, as you always do whenever Duncan texts you. Before you can respond, another text comes in.
"Too late, I'm already outside your office."
Sure enough, you look up and see him chatting to your coworker. His eyes flick towards you, and he grins when he sees that you're shrugging your coat on. "Hi," you say shyly, a little flustered that he's here in your office right now.
"Hi. Hope I didn't interrupt any work."
"You did. I was very busy staring at my blank computer screen."
Duncan chuckles, wrapping his arm around you and leading you out of the office. you turn to wave goodbye to your coworker, who is currently fanning herself with her hand and mouthing "oh my god!"
"So what are you doing out of your office on a Friday afternoon?"
"Ah, they didn't have much use for me anyways." You laugh, knowing that's an obvious lie. His uncle would make him live at the office if he had the chance. "No, I figured I could take off a couple of hours early. Lord knows I've worked enough lately."
"You sure the world won't stop spinning because you're gone?"
Duncan grabs your hand, swinging it lightly as you cross a crosswalk. "If it does, at least I'm with you." You look up at him in pleased surprise, and he steals a kiss. "There is something I've been wanting to discuss with you, though. Figured this would be a good time to do it."
Oh god. The other shoe. "You're not married or something, are you?"
"No, I'm not married."
"Thank god," you breathe a literal sigh of relief.
"Was that really what you were worried about? That you were an unknowing mistress?"
"That, and that you might be a serial killer." You side-eye him. "Verdict's still out on that one."
He laughs. "I can promise you that neither of those are true."
"So what did you want to tell me? If you're not a married serial killer."
You come to a stop when Duncan does, staring at him as he nervously rubs the back of his neck. "Um, I...I have a child."
"A child?" He nods. "Like, a tiny human that shares your DNA?" Another nod.
"I understand that this might be a shock to you."
"No! No, it's not a shock. I'm just surprised, is all."
"I've never told any of the previous women I've dated about her, because typically the fling ends as just a fling, and her safety is something that I'm very protective of."
"Your daughter?"
"Yes, Elizabeth. She's three."
You smile, the mental image of Duncan as a dad something intensely heartwarming.
"As I was saying, I don't typically tell my dates about her, but you and I are getting fairly serious and I don't want to hide such an important part of my life from you."
"We're getting serious, huh?" Duncan laughs lightly. "Can I call you my boyfriend?"
"As long as I can call you my girlfriend."
"Is your daughter's mother...around?"
"No. She stuck around for two months after Elizabeth was born, and then she left. We weren't dating for very long before she got pregnant. I told her that I wanted the baby, even if she didn't." Duncan shrugs. "I guess she didn't."
"I'm so sorry that you had to deal with that, Duncan."
"I'd rather raise my daughter to know she has one parent that loves her so much instead of one parent that loves her and one parent that doesn't care." Though he hasn't revealed much about his past, you do know that he has a complicated relationship with his family, which is probably where those feelings come from.
"Thank you for telling me. I'm glad that you trust me enough to talk about someone so precious to you."
"I want you in my life, (Y/N), hopefully for a long time, but I need you to know that she'll always come first."
Well, if you didn't think you were head over heels for him before, this solidifies it.
"If you're okay with it, I want you to meet her."
You look up in surprise. "You do?"
"Of course. I'm not going to tell you all of this just for you to not meet her."
"I'd love to!" you say quickly, not wanting him to think you're hesitant. "Would she be okay with it?"
Duncan nods. "I'll talk to her about it, but I don't see why not. Do you want to come over tonight? I can cook dinner, and you can actually see where I live."
You try not to show it, but your eyes widen. Not only would you be meeting his daughter, but now you'd be visiting his place for the first time. "Um, sure!"
"I'll text you, but does five work? That gives me some time after the nanny leaves."
"Five is great."
"You sure?" He smirks. "You look a little nervous."
"I'm sure." Duncan kisses you once more before bidding you farewell, leaving you to walk home and try not to internally freak out.
///
After spending way too much time figuring out what to wear before realizing you're meeting your boyfriend's three-year-old and not the Queen of England, you're at the address Duncan had texted you at approximately 5:05 (not too late, but also not punctual or, even worse, early). You shift from foot to foot nervously after knocking on the door of the townhouse, not quite sure if you should let yourself in.
Before you can make that decision, it's made for you when the door is opened by Duncan. He's grinning, barefoot and casual, with a tiny pair of arms wrapped around his neck and big blue eyes shyly gazing up at you from where a head is hidden against his shoulder. Instantly, your nerves melt away when you see that she's truly Duncan's carbon copy, from the eyes to the brown curls to the way she looks at you as if she's trying to figure you out.
"Hi, come in." Duncan ushers you in, kissing you on the cheek as he takes your coat. "Do you want something to drink?"
"Wine?" you ask before wondering if you can even drink wine when there's a small child around.
"Perfect, I already opened a bottle." Duncan looks at his daughter, brushing her curls back before whispering something in her ear. "(Y/N), this is my daughter, Elizabeth. Lizzie, this is Daddy's special friend, (Y/N), remember?"
"Hi Elizabeth, it's very nice to meet you," you say with a smile.
She looks up at you. "Hi," she says before burying her face in Duncan's shoulder again, making both you and him chuckle.
"The, uh, food's probably almost ready. It's chicken and rice, if you're okay with that."
"Definitely!"
"I wanted chicken nuggets, but Daddy said that's not 'date food,'" Elizabeth pipes up. You laugh as Duncan blushes.
"That's where your dad and I disagree, because I would eat chicken nuggets every night if I could."
She grins, and you feel like you just won the lottery. "Me too."
"Can I set you down, sweetie? I have to check the stove," Duncan explains. He speaks to her so softly, which is such a change from the demanding man you see when he's on work calls, or the romantic who loves to make you flustered. Once she agrees, he puts her on the floor and she immediately runs off, presumably to the living room or her bedroom.
"She's so cute," you gush once she's out of earshot.
"Yeah, she is," he says fondly, moving something off of the stove before kissing you properly. "I think she likes you."
"You can tell?"
He shrugs. "Father's intuition."
"I wasn't sure if I should have brought her a gift, like a toy or something?"
"I'm glad you didn't. My mom spoils her rotten with toys, she has way more than she needs."
"Can I help you with anything?"
"Would you mind setting the table, actually?" He points to a cupboard. "Dishes are up there."
Everywhere you look, there's signs of the little girl that lives here, whether it be crayon artwork on the fridge or the kid plastic plates in the cupboard. You smile at a picture of Duncan pushing Elizabeth on a swing as you set down the plates and cutlery, Duncan putting dishes of food on the middle of the table.
"Elizabeth!" he calls. "Dinner's ready!" You can hear the pattering of her little feet before you see her sprinting into the dining room like she's racing Usain Bolt.
"Daddy, can I sit with (Y/N)?" she asks, making your heart almost explode.
"I don't know, you'd have to ask (Y/N)," he says, hiding a grin as he looks at you.
"(Y/N), can I sit with you?"
"Yeah." Your voice comes out as little more than a whisper due to how choked up you are, so you clear your throat and try again. "Yeah," you say, louder.
You sit down on the chair closest to Duncan, and Elizabeth clambers up onto your lap. Once she's comfy, she makes grabby hands at the plate that Duncan is making for her. Your hands hover awkwardly at your sides, not sure what to do. What if you move too fast and scare her off? No, that's with wild animals, not toddlers. Yet again, the decision of what to do is made for you when she gets her plate and begins to talk to you.
Throughout dinner, Duncan can hardly eat, so wrapped up in watching you interact with his daughter as you listen to every word she says and chat with her about whatever she's deemed more important than her food. He's not sure of the last time that he was ever this happy; maybe the day Elizabeth was born? Listening to you laugh at one of the jokes she learned at nursery school and has told at least a hundred times by now, he's sure that he made the right choice in saying that he wants you around for a while.
//
IDK who even would want to read this so I'm just tagging a couple of people @sojournmichael @michaellangdon @xavierplympton @blakescoven @mrslangdonn @michaellangdonstanaccount
#duncan shepherd#house of cards#duncan shepherd imagine#duncan shepherd imagines#duncan shepherd x reader
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Hidden Truths
Pairing: Hardin Scott x reader (Platonic)
Summary: Can you write something where the reader learns she was kidnapped at birth and Hardin helps her through the trauma? Anonymous
Warnings: Angst, kidnapping, trauma, mentions of miscarriage. Let me know if there are more.
A/N For this one Hardin stayed in England with his mom. Also one of the hardest concepts I’ve ever tried writing.
It starts out as a joke. You just want to know more about your ancestors and there’s this trend going around that you send in your DNA and it tells you all about where you come from. The 5% Ireland doesn’t surprise you. Frankly, you expected that part. It’s the 80% Canadian that surprises you. Your family hasn’t left England for centuries. You did a family tree as a school project in 3rd grade and you know your roots are English and somewhat Irish. Why would the test tell you that you’re from Canada?
“Mom? Do we have any family in Canada?” Her hesitation last only a moment but you notice it all the same.
“No, honey. We’ve never even been to Canada.” Your mom has a tell. She always lift her right eyebrow slightly whenever she’s lying to you. It’s something you picked up along the way when you watched her lie to her clients. Over the next few days you can’t shake the feeling that there’s something about Canada you need to discover.
“Maybe you’re adopted?” Hardin speculates. You’re lying on his bed while he’s placed himself in his desk chair.
“Don’t say that. My parents are my parents.”
“It’s possible. You said your mom had a weird reaction.” You hate that he’s making sense. You don’t want to believe that you’re adopted. This family is all you have and to find out it may be based on a lie would destroy you.
“But if they won’t tell me anything, I’ll never know.”
“So quick to give up?” Hardin asks with a smirk turning his laptop on. You can hear his mom rummaging downstairs and you wonder if she knows something. If maybe your mom told her something over a cup of coffee while 10-year-old you and Hardin played out in the yard.
“We could always look it up. Maybe you can access your file. If you have one.” He starts searching google for adoption agencies in Canada and even though you’re not remotely ready to consider you might be adopted, you still peek over his shoulder to see what he finds.
“If there is a file, it’s probably closed. I mean, all the shows always say those kind of cases are closed.”
“You mean TV-shows?” he chuckles not even looking up, “what the hell?” In an instance, you’re right next to him.
“What? What is it?” It’s an old article of a baby that was kidnapped. You look at the date only to realise that it’s your birthday. The baby was kidnapped the same day you were born. But that’s not the weirdest part. It’s the photo of what the baby would approximately look like now. It’s the spitting image of you. The article mentions a birthmark on the hip. The exact same place as your birthmark.
“This is seriously freaky,” Hardin comments. You tell him to close the article and pretend you didn’t find it. It’s too much information and you need to talk to your parents. But when it comes down to it, you’re too scared. It takes you weeks before you feel ready to do something. You’re terrified of the truth, of realising that your parents not only weren’t your biological parents, but that they kidnapped you as a baby. Who even does that?
“I think I need to find out,” you tell Hardin one day. He buys plain tickets to Canada within an hour. You lie to your parents as you’re packing your bag hoping that the universe forgives you. It’s not that you want to lie to them, but they’re not being truthful and you don’t trust them to tell you. In less than 24 hours you’re standing at the Canadian airport trying to catch a taxi. You don’t even know what you’re going to tell these people but all too soon you’re standing at the address mentioned in the article.
“I’m right here next to you. Just say the word and we’ll get out of here.” You’re so thankful for his support even if you don’t have the words to tell him right now. You knock on the door and your possible birth mom opens up. Her reaction is instant. Tears fill her eyes.
“Oh God,” she whispers almost reaching out to touch you.
“I found an article online of a baby that was kidnapped.” You hold up the picture with shaking hands. This may be nothing but you need to know. You need to know if you were robbed of this childhood. She invites you in for tea and you accept. Hardin is right behind you the entire time making you feel safe despite everything that’s happening. You’re pretty sure if he hadn’t come with you, your sanity would jump out the window. You try to keep the conversation with Diana light because you’re not ready to dive into the serious stuff just yet. At some point, her husband Joseph comes home from work. They’re nice people. At the end of the day, you have to return to England but you get their information to stay in touch. You want to stay longer but you’re also itching to return and confront the people who took you. Anger fills you when you think of the childhood taken. You agree to leave them a strand of hair for a DNA test so you all can get the answers you so desperately crave. It isn’t until Heathrow airport that you break down. It comes sudden and overwhelms you. Hardin holds you tight as you break apart. He keeps shushing you as he leads the two of you to the taxi outside.
“I’m sorry,” you hiccup through the sobs but he just shakes his head. There’s zero judgement in his eyes and it isn’t until you’re parked in front of your house that you realise he still hasn’t let go of you. How did your life turn into an episode of Criminal Minds?
“Do you want me to come in with you?” he asks. Maybe you should be scared to go confront them but the need for answers overshadow all the other feelings. You have to know and for some reason, you feel sure they won’t harm you.
“I think I have to do this alone.” So you hug him one last time before entering the house on your own.
“Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick!” So apparently the lie didn’t last that long.
“I went to visit Diana and Joseph. My birth parents.” You could hear a pin drop. They both stand still in utter shock.
“Anyone want to tell me why I was kidnapped?” You’re angry and hurt and terrified but you need to have this conversation in an attempt to find some peace. What you don’t expect is your mother to sit down with tears streaming down her face while your father places a hand on her shoulder.
“I had three miscarriages. It was horrible. After the third one, I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t go through the pain of losing a baby again. Instead we started looking at adoption agencies but it was expensive. There was no way we could afford it.” Shame dominates her features as she tells the story. You try to hold on to your anger but you’re looking at a broken woman. She’s unable to continue so your dad takes over.
“We finally found an agency that offered their services to a price we could afford. It was very discreet and we received no information. We didn’t know until after we got you. We never would’ve accepted it if we knew. You have to believe that. But when we heard about the missing baby, we’d had you for almost two months. And we couldn’t give you up. So we closed eyes and ears to everything on the news. In the end, we managed to convince ourselves that it wasn’t you.” It’s too much. You want them to be the villains who stole you away from your real life but you just feel sorry for them. Everything they went through. There’s no arguing that what they did was wrong and awful but they just look so sad and small standing before you.
“I need some air.” You don’t even look back but instead head straight out where you find Hardin.
“I know you said you wanted to do this alone but I figured you’d might need company.” There’s no hesitation as you walk into his arms. You have no idea what the future will bring. You want to know your birth parents. And you have no idea what to do with the people who raised you. It’s all just too much for you to comprehend right now. But you do know that Hardin will be right there through everything. In the chaos, he’s your constant and you’re forever thankful.
#hardin scott blurb#hardin scott imagine#hardin scott after#hardin scott x reader#hardin scott gif#hardin allen scott#Hardin Scott#hardin#after imagine#after blurb#after gif#After movie#after#after we collided blurb#after we collided imagine#after we collided#awc imagine#awc blurb#awc gif#awc#tw miscarriage#tw kidnapping#tw trauma
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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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Reincarnation au
It will be quite long, and this is only part one. For @fructidor hope you like it so far, if not that’s completely ok.
Monday, August 14th, 5:15 a.m. Would that cursed alarm clock just shut up already?
Slowly, Max rubbed the sleep from his bleary eyes and forced himself to his feet, immediately being met with the frigid floor. Why can’t we simply have carpet, it’s so much more warm to wake up to..
He fumbled around for a moment in search of his glasses, before blinking his eyes into focus once he had found them and put them on.
“Wonderful, now I won’t go out with my shirt on backwards.” He commented to himself, before rummaging through his closet.
“Max, hurry up! I don’t want to be late for my first day of school!” Shouted Augustin from down the hall.
“You say that each year, but within a week I’m dragging you out of bed by your ankles!” Retorted the elder, sliding the sweater over his head.
Ironically enough, once Max had finished getting ready, his brother was still standing in the bathroom in his pajamas, brushing his teeth.
“Really..” began the elder, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.
“What?” Asked Augustin with a mouthful of toothpaste, seeming offended.
“And here I thought you didn’t want to be late.” Max watched as his brother rolled his eyes before retreating to his room. Walking downstairs, his first instinct was to make a beeline for the coffee machine. He could tell already he was going to need the caffeine to get through the day. “Are you finally ready..?” He asked, upon hearing his brother descend the stairs.
“Whatever.” Came the response, the footsteps already walking to the door. Slowly, Max followed, standing to his feet while still holding his cup of coffee in one hand, keys in the other. Augustin had already marched himself out the door, and was waiting rather impatiently by the car, a look of annoyance across his face. Once he saw Max unlock the car, he practically threw the door open and fell in, ignoring as his brother sighed tiredly before he himself got in.
“Could you please try not to rip the car door off every morning..?” He asked quietly, before starting the car. “Why are you so mad, anyway?”
“Because every single year now you leave and I’m stuck at home with our sister.” Answered Augustin, crossing his arms over his chest and turning to look out the window. Max sighed once more, driving down the road.
“I’ll be back for the holidays. I always am, aren’t I?” He asked, only being answered by silence. Once they reached a red light, he took a sip of his coffee, trying to remove the exhaustion which weighed his very bones.
***
“I’ll see you in a few months, do try to stay out of trouble while I’m away!” Max called from the window, watching as his brother walked down the sidewalk. With one last heavy breath and swig of coffee, he prepared himself for his slightly longer drive ahead. Sometimes he wondered why he ever came home for the summer, but he would always have to remind himself that in most cases he was the glue holding their entire family together. Charlotte was working two, sometimes three jobs to support both herself and Augustin, who was trying to finish up school and getting into a bit of trouble. Max was in a bit of a similar situation, though he was simply trying to get his degree. This would be his last year before he finally graduated.
The sun rose in the sky as he drove along the highway, music playing softly in the background. Every once in a while he would take a sip of coffee to ward off the sleep which seemed to tug at him mercilessly. At long last, the campus came into view with its imposing architecture, it looked more like a cluster of medieval cathedrals than a college campus. He parked his car and watched as the students crowded in the school yard, signing up for clubs and some trying to figure out where they were even supposed to go. With one last swig of coffee, he got out and grabbed his things before making his way to his most familiar place. The dorms.
He had shared a dorm with his closest friend Camille since his first year there, they had known each other prior to going to college and Max had felt more comfortable sharing a room with someone he knew well. To his utmost dismay, however, Camille had switched schools over the summer. To be closer to his fiancé, he had said. Max understood, of course, but he was nervous now. Alone in a sea of other young adults, none of which he knew well, he was quite honestly terrified. He downed another swig of coffee before marching up the stairs, wandering down the hall before at last standing before his old familiar door.
Well, I do have to unpack. Again.
With a heavy sigh, he pushed the door open. Some of his more permanent decorations remained, such as pictures he had hung on the wall, and lamps, things of the likes, but Camille’s side was sterile and empty. Bland. Void of any character. With another, almost unneeded sigh, he walked over to his bed and slowly shrugged off his bags full of clothes, placing his laptop bag on his bed. He could not afford for his laptop to break again. Wiping his eyes, he stood in silence for a moment. He would miss the familiarity of his friend, after all they had bonded almost instantly upon first meeting, almost as if they had known each other long, long ago. He shrugged off the thought just as he had his bags, before leaning down and grabbing one of the aforementioned parcels and unpacking. Darting back and forth from bag to drawer, he eventually had his clothes set up for what would be the coming months until once more he returned home for a few weeks.
How lonely it felt in that small dorm room. How lonely indeed.
The silence seemed to eat away at him as he laid on his old bed, staring at the wall.
I will be alright, he and I will keep in touch. After all, it isn’t like he left for no reason at all-
Then, the door opened as someone else tumbled in, though he wasn’t sure if it was a mountain of bags suddenly animated or someone who just decided to pack way too much stuff.
“Um-“ Began Max, with hesitance and anxiety, and the other person looked up.
“And to think I thought that I was early..” they said to themselves, dragging the bags through the door.
“That’s um.. quite a bit of stuff you have there. Are you moving in or something?” Max joked, watching as one bag got stuck in the door, his new roommate tugging at it with what appeared to be a majority of his body weight.
“More or less- oof-“ Max raised an eyebrow as the bag finally broke free, sending its opponent stumbling back a few steps.
“You certainly travel light, don’t you.” He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. Hopefully this person had a sense of humor.
“Well, considering the fact that I have been living out of my car for the past few months, and obviously I can’t leave my stuff in my car..” they began, before dragging their bags over to what was now their side of the room.
“Living out of your car..?!” Max practically exclaimed, in surprise, eyes wide as he leaned forward.
“Yeah. Complicated situation, don’t want to talk about it.” Answered the other, and Max took a moment to observe them. They were quite tall, though everyone was tall compared to Max, who stood at approximately 5’3”, had long brown hair, and that was about all that Max could tell from what he had seen so far, aside from them fighting with their bags. He watched as they dumped their stuff onto what was now their bed, before taking what was his last swig of coffee. He frowned at the cup in his hand, before setting it aside on his table. “Do you happen to have any tape?” His new roommate suddenly asked, as they stretched a poster up on the wall.
“Oh- uh.. I think I do, give me one second..” Max replied, before sliding off of his bed and rummaging around in his desk, pulling out a roll of scotch tape. “I do, here.” He handed the plastic tape container to the other, who quickly took it.
“Thanks.”
Max wasn’t really sure he liked the tension that suddenly filled his dorm. It was not something he was accustomed to, at least when Camille had been there. He was brought from his thoughts once more as the sound of books falling on top of one another filled the air.
“That’s.. a lot of books-“ he commented, nervously.
“Well, like I said. I can’t keep my belongings in my car.” Responded the other, coldly. Max nodded hesitantly, before deciding in his mind to simply mind his own business and go back to staring at the wall, missing his former roommate. After what Max assumed had been an hour, the sound of bags being dumped finally stopped, and he noticed the bags had simply been pushed beneath the bed. One wasn’t even entirely empty. Max decided to try to clear the tension a little.
“I’m Maximilien, but most everyone calls me Max.” He began, cautiously, and for the first time the entire morning his roommate looked at him.
“Like Maximilien Robespierre?” They asked, and Max chuckled.
“I suppose you could put it that way.” He answered, slightly amused. He could not help but smile, he had never been compared to someone like that before.
“Cool, I’m Antoine.”
At least I have a name for him now?
“That’s.. actually a really neat name, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone named ‘Antoine’ before.” Max said, absentmindedly, staring at the ceiling.
“Yeah, at least I didn’t have to worry about sharing a name with anyone way back in elementary and middle school.” Replied the other with a shrug.
“I certainly dealt with plenty of that.” Max chuckled, lightly, with a nod. “So.. what are you majoring in?” He asked, sitting up attentively.
“Music, mostly.” Antoine replied with a shrug once more, staring at his hands. “Nothing really uncommon or interesting.”
“Well, I’m sure there’s at least some interesting classes?” Max insisted, earning yet another shrug.
“I suppose. Art history seems like it would be pretty interesting.” His face lit up as the other said that.
“Oh it is.” Max grinned, and Antoine raised an eyebrow at him in doubt.
“You seem.. overjoyed at the fact that that’s on my schedule-“ he commented, and Max chuckled once more, this time with more mischief.
“I am, it’s one of my favorite classes. When do you have it?” The latter asked with a warm smile, and Antoine looked up in thought.
“Um.. tomorrow at 8 am, I think?” He answered, looking over at Max.
“Ironically enough I have it at the same time.” Max smiled, and Antoine nodded slowly, his brown hair falling in front of his face for a moment.
“Well there’s one thing we have in common so far.” He replied, and Max could only smile wider. The more time went on, the air became more comfortable, much like it had with Camille. Some strange feeling of familiarity, Max couldn’t quite place what it was, but he was certainly not complaining, it had been a while since he had been able to sit in comfortable silence with another person, or have a warm conversation. It was something he missed, and he was glad to have it once more, even if only for a little while.
#we see my writing progressively get worse as this goes on#never in my life did I imagine I would be writing fanfic for lack of a better term on tumblr#at least it’s on theme (?)#frev#frev but make it a poorly written reincarnation au.
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𝙼𝙸𝚁𝚁𝙾𝚁
there’s few things that can shake miya atsumu. one thing that can, the way his little sister begs for his help.
.wordc. 2.2k+ tw incest, dubcon/noncon, voyeurism
+
He’s not exactly known for being the moral compass of the world. In all of his life, he’s thought about things before jumping head first approximately two times, and neither thought was concerning the goodness of his actions. But he’s also not a bad person, or tries not to be. When it comes to most things he’s a pretty decent human, and for the parts he lacks, well— that’s probably why he has a twin. It’s making those important calls on his own that give Atsumu a hard time here and there. And in all fairness, he thinks, it’s not his fault he didn’t notice quite as quickly as someone else might’ve.
He’s not home a lot, and even when he is, you’ve all always been close as siblings. Too close sometimes, but it’s what works for you guys so what others think doesn’t matter. He’s learned to tune out most of what Osamu does on a daily basis, and has to in order to stay sane in his own little slice of life without feeling like he’s constantly mirroring his twin. What the other does is not his problem, you don’t say anything if it doesn’t concern you. That is how he’s used to handling his siblings, when it’s not so painfully obvious that something is wrong.
It’s in the way you invite him home every free weekend like he’s some saint, though the first dozen times he only thinks it’s because you miss him a lot. When both your big brothers moved out you must’ve felt abandoned, and you clung just a little tighter when hugging him goodbye after visits. Then when Osamu started Onigiri Miya you moved into his apartment to help as a part-time employee, also avoiding the long commute to uni. You would send him cute pictures of the two of you in the uniform and asking him tons of questions when on the phone, always making the hard days a bit better.
Your favorite question was always ‘when are ya visiting again, Tsumtsum nii?’ and what can he say, it was strangely nostalgic to have you so excited and giddy about what he was doing. Even if you did tend to send him lots of little texts throughout the day that he didn’t get to answer until hours later. He figured you were just lonely and— he hopes— part of that is still true. That the pout and tears you flashed him, the ones he took as a cute, childlike gesture every time he left you for a busy couple of weeks of training, weren’t just desperation.
But then the phone calls started. Nothing like the upbeat message you’d leave him during the day, no. These were few and far in between, and they never left him with a good feeling. You’d sob into the receiver on the other end at 5 in the morning, oftentimes right when he was ready to tuck into bed after being out with his teammates. “When are ya coming back to Sendai, niichan? I need to see you again,” you’d cry and cry and cry, and nothing he said then could soothe you. He’d tell you to wake Osamu up, your voice suddenly growing so quiet. “I’m calling from the hall, I can’t wake him up,” is all you’d answer, hanging up not long after. Just a nightmare, you’d explain the morning after. And Atsumu believed you.
What was he supposed to do? The messages about you sleeping badly to Samu were always answered with the same unsurprised level-headedness he’d come to expect from his twin. And you were a grown woman now, if you had to see a doctor for it, you would. He did try to make his visits back to Sendai fewer in between, to settle the little voice in the back of his skull at least a little. And you’d smile so brightly and cling so tight whenever he did, Atsumu would ruffle your hair and laugh along with his twin. He didn’t say anything about your boyfriend, but he knew you had one, since you were always covered head to toe in kiss marks. Things were good.
They are great even… until the end of volleyball season, when the Black Jackals get some time off and he decides to spend it with his siblings. Your apartment is so comfortable after having lived here for almost two years, it’s so warm and filled with a familiar glow of home. And he could’ve spent it at his parents’ home or even his own house alone, but it’s nice to stay over here too. Tsumu laughs when he notices there’s even more pictures of just you and Osamu on the shelves. “Yer gonna have to take some of all three of us soon, or else people will forget there’s another twin!” You giggle when he pokes your side, but strangely, the joy doesn’t reach past your lips.
“Maybe that’s what we’re going for,” Samu says.
The blond grabs his chest dramatically and stumbles forward, toppling over into the couch. “How could you? Yer killin’ me, dude,” he whines, and your eyes seem to get a little brighter at the normality of their bickering. The other twin just snorts, taking his brother’s bags in hand and walking them to the spare room without complaining. And the little sister… you linger. You do that a lot when he visits since you moved in here, but Atsumu can’t really remember if it’s something you used to do when you were kids too. Like you have something more to say. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth. Shifting onto your heels and picking at the majorly oversized clothing you’re wearing. Looking closer, it seems to be one of Samu’s sweatshirts—
Osamu calls your name as he rounds the corner, and your fidgeting stops. His brother glances over at the couch with a small smile, then down at you where you stand to his side. “Will ya get Tsumu set up for us? I’m sure he’s tired.” He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek, and your eyes flutter. “I’m going to check on the food, ‘kay?” It’s not much of a question, since he moves into the kitchen before you can answer. But you nod, and motion him along.
“Here, Tsumtsum nii,” you walk the hall next to him, hand flexing and unflexing a few times before you hold your breath, then gently slipping it into his larger one. And yes, it is a strange interaction, he thinks while looking down at you but you lean into him so sweet and finally seem to relax a little that he doesn’t fault you for a second. You point at the door with your free hand, “this is your room, we moved the desk to the side! I think you’ll like it.”
He smiles down at you when you push open the door so softly, like you’re scared to leave your fingerprints on anything but him, before following your eyes. There’s a little stuffie next to the pillow, one he recognizes. It used to be his when he was a little kid, he had no idea you still had it. But it’s clearly your doing, Samu would never come up with something so thoughtful. “Ya didn’t have to move all yer stuff out of a room for me, didya?”
You seem to pale a little when you look up into his warm eyes, but swallow. “No.” The serious tone catches him off guard. And he doesn’t like getting into other people’s business, but he’s glad when you continue. “I sleep with Samu nii in the room.” Your eyes are on the floor, mouth set into a little line. You breathe in and out a few times under his calculated gaze, before you look back up at him and bite your lip. “There’s fresh towels in the bathroom if you want to take a shower. I should get back to niichan, he’ll call me soon.” You pull your small hand from his, and it’s only then that he notices how sweaty your palm was. Which doesn’t make sense, since you should have nothing to be nervous about. Before you rush down the hall, you turn over your shoulder. “I’m really glad you’re staying for a while, Tsumtsum nii.”
It’s three days in when he starts feeling the familiar itch of working out. You’d scold him though, so he slips out the door as quietly as possible, going for a late night run. When he comes back to the door, drenched in sweat, he jumbles the keys. Pushes them in, turns and then— stops.
“Niichan, hng- niichan!” Your voice is muffled though the wall, but it’s clearly… He drops the keys on the table, shuffling forward in the dark. “It- ah ah ah- it’s too big, not so hard.” It sounds like you’re trying to keep quiet, but the distinct sound of the headboard hitting the wall over and over is grating. Atsumu sits through too much of the moans and grunts before finally coming back to the world enough to go to his room. “Samu niichan, please stop. Tsumtsum nii will be back.” He stops halfway there, because your door is swung open like his is. And Osamu is balls deep inside you, your head pushed into the pillows and turned toward the wall.
“Fuck, yer so tight,” he hisses, the smacking of his slow, deep pace still obnoxious enough to fill the house. “That feels good, doesn’t it? Slutty girl.” You’re pulled back into his hips with each thrust, whining softly. And with your wet pussy filled again and again to the brim right in front of him, it’s hard to think logically. He should have known when Samu looked up your skirt on the stairway last month, or how easily he pulled you into his lap just last night, but even now he’s staring right at you both it is hard to fathom. This feels like a hallucination. “Take my cock like the good, little wife ya are, that’s it.”
You whine and drool onto the pillow until Samu pulls out of you to turn you over. He slides right back in as you moan out at the stretch, before his skin smacks into yours and his hand snakes down to rub harshly over your puffy clit. After a few thrusts, he lays his much bigger body right over yours, kissing you deeply. You shake your face into the kiss, but still cling to him. Your tits rise and fall so pretty for him, it’s almost hard to believe he never noticed before.
“Samu nii, more. Deeper,” you plead, pushing back against his thrusts. “I want to cum.” The headboard gets louder, and the brunet’s low moans do too.
“Oh, don’t worry,” his twin grunts, digging his fingers deep into the soft skin of your ass as he hauls your thighs closer, “I will never forget about my princess, even when ya get mad at me for it. Now say thank you for niichan’s cock, so that I can fuck ya properly.” You shake your face wildly again, letting out a little squeal at a harder pump of the fat cock pounding into you. When you don’t respond, he grabs your throat between his strong fingers and squeezes, as you hick and cling to his hand. “Quickly, yer really testing my patience today.”
Atsumu is not exactly known for being the moral compass of the world. And being so similar to his twin, he tries to be a good person. He does.
“Thank you, niichan, thank you for yer cock,” you squeeze out, little voice sounding so fucking adorable. “Now please let me cum.” Osamu holds you tighter and really starts fucking you into the mattress so hard it might wake him up if he wasn’t already, the squelching and loud smack of his skin connecting to your slicked up center overwhelming. Your back curls off the bed, little legs shaking and toes curling into the soft plush. “Niichan, niichan! Pl- Ah- nii-hnggg fuck.”
But really— admitting your twin is a bad guy is like admitting you’re a bad guy. And if there’s one thing Atsumu doesn’t like, it’s talking down to himself. So when you squeal and shake around your brother’s cock, his dick twitches against his stomach. The feeling of guilt at getting hard from what he’s watching is overruled by the wave of heat that surges to his balls and cock as your knees lock around Osamu’s thick thighs and you cum so pretty, letting your face drop toward him with your eyes squeezed shut and your lips hung open. His back is still sticky from his run, but your fucked, little expression could have done the same. And then you tilt your head back to expose your branded throat where Samu buries his face, and your lashes flutter.
He’s touching his cock when you notice him, your eyes widening and you jump to hide under Samu more. Fuck, you’re so cute. Osamu is still fucking into you with hard snaps, wide back covering you mostly from view. “Samu nii, stop,” you mumble against his temple, “please stop, look!”
“I’m not fucking sharing this wet cunt,” he just grunts, and you try to push him off to no avail. Atsumu huffs as he walks closer, shutting the door behind him. At the click Samu looks up for just a moment, before frowning. “She’s mine. Fuck off.” Then he pushes himself up from you a bit to grab your tit and make you whimper. He’s at the bed now, and his knees almost give out at your glossy eyes and the sounds your cunt makes. The brunet holds his motion for a moment. “Yer welcome to use her mouth just this once, but ya make a move on her and I’ll kill ya.”
Your eyes droop a little when he slips his pants down his legs, but you don’t seem surprised. You know what kind of person he is, surely. So Atsumu wraps his hand around his leaking cock, kneeling next to your face as you sniffle. “Just put Tsumtsum nii’s cock into your mouth.” His thumb brushes past your lips. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.” He’s not bad, but he’s never pretended to be a saint. It’s your own fault for imagining him as one.
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the woes of an unrequited crush-luther hargreeves (part ii)
a/n: this is part 2 of college!au luther fic. enjoy :)
masterlist | prompt list
part i
warnings: mentions of death (no I promise I did not kill her), mentions of food, swearing probably, kissing, mentions of bullying
word count: 4,753
It had been exactly 5 months, 28 days, 34 minutes, and 12 seconds since you’d last spoken to Luther... not that anyone was counting. Your junior year of college had just started and you were living in a new apartment with Sophie and Charlotte, with a new room mate this year, named Kayla. If anyone asked, your summer had been great. You’d had the opportunity to work with your advisor as part of a program your college offered, doing summer research. Your classes were off to an amazing start and you’d even gotten a new, high-paying job at your university’s writing center.
In all honesty, your summer had sucked. You had gotten so far in over your head with the research program and your grandfather had died just three weeks before the start of the new semester. Your living situation was beyond awkward, with Sophie and Charlotte making it a point to never bring any of the Hargreeves over, or even say any of their names. Kayla was kind and sweet and she did her best to include you, but it wasn’t the same. Your birthday was coming up, and you were dreading it more than anything. A year ago, Sophie and Charlotte had banded together, pulling out all the stops, giving you the best birthday you’d ever had. Now... now you weren’t sure what to even expect. You sighed as the cool air hit you as you opened the door to the building, heading down the hall to your advisors office. The woman was kind and young and new to the university and a lot of students drifted towards her when they needed a nice chat or help with citations or a good talk about the Cold War. She’d been sympathetic to your situation, even if you withheld some of the details. She didn’t need to be bogged down with all your petty personal life drama and she had enough on her plate. You turned the corner and knocked into someone, stumbling back a bit. You looked up to see Allison. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” She said, straightening up.
"No worries.” You breathed out, throat closing up. Why, why did the world hate you? You gave her a tight smile and continued to move down the hallway until you were safely inside your advisors office. She smiled at you as you sat down in the chair nearest her desk. Max, one of the other History majors, shot you a smile from where he was sitting on a bean bag chair. You discussed your ideas for a final project for one of her classes, wanting to make sure you found all your research even thought the semester had just started. You wanted this project to go perfectly, it was your favorite time in history, which happened very little and you would be damned you didn’t do it well. You stayed to talk to her for a little bit longer, but eventually left as Max was leaving. Max was one of the sweetest boys in the department and the two of you were quite friendly. He’d been one of the saving graces of your summer and he’d been on the listening end of a many late night phone call about your problems. Kayla had even teased you that the two of you would be together in no time. You had laughed her off, because Max had a girlfriend (who was just as sweet as he was and was a good friend of yours as well) and because for as hard you tried, no one really compared to the way you felt about Luther. It sucked and you wanted nothing more than to move on with your life but you had never quite gotten closure and there was painful dull in your chest anytime you see him or his siblings on campus. Which just your luck, Diego, Luther, Vanya, and Allison were standing off the side of the doorway, and they went silent as you walked past. You kept your head down as you willed your feet to move quicker and Max gripped your arm as you stumbled out of the building. That was the closest you had come to them, besides your run-in with Allison just an hour prior, and you felt like you were going to throw up.
“You want to come over?” Max asked. You shook your head, blinking back tears. You needed to get over this. “I’ll let you play Mario Kart on the Switch.” Max offered and you were tempted to say yes, but you really should go back to your apartment to work on some homework. “C’mon, I’ll buy you McDonalds.” That was the key word. You laughed a little, looking up at him. “You deserve the world (Y/N/N), don’t ever forget it.” He said, slinging his arm around you as he walked to his car.
-
The Hargreeves sat around the apartment, laughing at some joke Klaus had made. Sophie and Charlotte had invited them over to see the new place and meet the new room mate and (Y/N) was at Max’s (who lived just down the hall). Sophie had promised she wouldn’t come back for at least a few hours, so it was the perfect time. “Mmm, I ran into (Y/N) today, like literally. Practically knocked the poor girl over.” Allison said as she ate a strawberry.
“Jeez Allison, tell us how you really feel.” Five joked.
“That was the most awkward thing ever when we saw her today.” Vanya said, to which Diego agreed.
“We need to talk about that.” Sophie said, shifting away from Klaus. “Her birthday is coming up and the situation is getting unbearable, so you guys need to make up and soon.”
“What, the five months of radio silence not enough for you?” Ben muttered and Sophie shot him a look. Diego opened his mouth to shoot something back when keys jingled in the door.
-
You walked through the door, sighing to yourself. You’d spent a good few hours at Max and Elena’s (who lived just just down the hall, conveniently) and it had been a good break from the drama of the real world. But you had homework to do. You walked into the entryway, seeing all the Hargreeves gathered in your kitchen along with your room mates. Kayla, ever the peacemaker, shot you a bright smile. “How was your day darling?” She asked as you eyes narrowed, surveying the room. You made brief eye contact with Luther and quickly looked away.
“I’m too sober to deal with this.” You huffed, turning around and leaving the apartment again.
-
The door shut behind her and Diego swiveled towards Sophie. “That really seems like she wants to make up with us.” He snarked, shooting her an ugly look. Sophie shot an equally ugly look back.
“Look, I don’t care what you say or how you do it. I just care that things stopping happening like this. Fix it.”
-
You trudged back down the hallway and opened the door to Max’s apartment. He turned to you, a teasing grin on his face. “Back so soon?” You crash-landed on his couch, face-first. He came over to the couch, propping his legs up against yours as he sat down. You twisted and sat up, legs still covered by his lanky ones.
“Every single one of them is in my apartment right now.” You huffed.
“The Hargreeves?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“No, all of Santa’s elves. Yes, the Hargreeves.”
“Hey, I was just making sure I understood. Why are they there?” You shrugged.
“Beats me. And I’m too sober to deal with anything any of them have to say, so... here I am.”
“You’re always sober.”
“Exactly. I’ll will be dealing with that situation approximately... never.” He shook his head.
“Well, we need to talk about your birthday.” You groaned, flopping back down on the couch. “What are we doing?”
“How about nothing? Can we do nothing? Is nothing an appropriate answer?” He shot you a look.
“C’mon, our advisors want to do something for you.” The advisors in the department really liked you and tried to make the best of everyone’s birthday, so yours was no different. They’d just picked the wrong year. “How about like, a picnic or something? While the weather is still nice?”
“I don’t care. You decide and I’ll just show up.”
“That’s not how this works.”
“Well then, I want to do nothing.”
“We’re doing something.”
-
You squinted as you trudged towards the tables in the park near campus. The sun was out and the weather warm and your friends had gone a long way to give you the best birthday. The day had been good so far with Kayla bringing you coffee this morning and Elena taking you out to lunch. A picnic in the park with a larger group of your friends and movie night in Max and Elena’s apartment later that night with your core group was the plan for the rest of the day. For as much as you had dreaded it, you couldn’t deny how good it felt to be appreciated by the people around you and it made your heart feel full. You cherished the hugs and laughs as the afternoon wore on, and every minute felt so full of joy until... until you saw the Hargreeves minus Luther but plus Lila walking towards the group. Sophie and Charlotte made their way over to the group, along with Elena, who knew Allison through the theatre department. You rolled your eyes, turning to Max. “You have to be fucking kidding me.” You said, shaking your head. You turned to walk away from them and were suddenly faced with Five. You jumped. “Jesus Christ. Weren’t you just...” You asked, turning back to where his siblings were and you were sure you had just seen him there too. “Never mind.” He sighed, sticking his hand out, present in his grasp.
“Happy birthday.” You stared at the present dumbfounded and he shook it. “Take it. I’m not going to stand here forever.” You tentatively took it from him.
“Thanks.. I think?” A teasing smirk settled on his face as he shoved his hands back in his pockets. The smirk was quickly replaced by a serious look though.
“Look, I’m sorry things happened the way they did. Don’t tell my siblings I said this, but not having you around has kinda sucked. I wish there was something we could do to fix it, but as much as your room mates want to pretend otherwise, this is between you and Luther.”
“Thank you.” You said sincerely. “Why are you guys here though?” Five sighed.
“Your room mates, well Sophie, think if we’re around long enough you’ll just like us again. But like I just said this is-”
“Between me and Luther, yeah.” You sucked in a deep breath and you could feel Max’s weary glance at you. “Well, thanks for this,” You said, shaking the present in your hand. “And thanks for coming. Help yourself to the food.” You gestured to the table and quickly turned away. Losing your friendship with the Hargreeves had been one of the worst parts of the whole situation and you were truly starting to wonder if you had been wrong from the beginning about them. You shook your head to clear that thought. No, no they were still the bad people you knew them to be. Sure, Five was his own entity and made his own choices separate of his siblings. But the others had set you up to be one big joke and you would not tolerate people like that nor let them back into your life. They were all like Luther, who wasn’t even present, cowards.
-
You sat in Max’s apartment that night as the rain pattered down. You guys had gotten one of the last summer rainstorms for the year that night and your whole world felt at peace. You’d been able to have a really good conversation with Ben and Vanya earlier, and while it didn’t change anything, the look Charlotte gave you was enough to ease just a little bit of the pain. Luther had still been a no-show, which was probably for the best. You weren’t sure how you would’ve reacted and you weren’t sure what might’ve come out of Max’s mouth. Your phone dinged and you looked down. Speak of the devil, you thought to yourself.
Hey, are you home? I have a birthday present for you.
You sighed as the phone dinged again.
I want to talk to you.
You could never say no to him and maybe... maybe just maybe this would give you the closure you needed to move on with your life.
Give me five minutes.
You pulled on your shoes. “Hey, someone is here to drop off a present for me. I’ll be back in like five, ten maybe?” You said, standing by the door. Max gave you a thumbs up and you disappeared out the door. You took a deep breath as your feet pounded down the stairs, anxious to get this over with. You opened the door to your building, warm water cascading down as you hurried over to Luther’s truck. You opened the passenger door and slid in, desperate to get out of the rain. He turned to look at you, giving you a soft smile. Your heart ached. He wordlessly handed you neatly wrapped gift. You took an unsure look at him and he nodded, encouraging you to open it. You tentatively and carefully unwrapped the gift, a book sliding out. It was an original copy of your favorite book, and you looked up at him, a warmth spreading over you. “Luther, how- we talked about this, what, maybe once?” He shrugged as you bit your lip. He shifted in his seat and you looked back to him.
“(Y/N), I’m really sorry about all of this.”
“Luther-”
“I just want things to go back to the way they used to be. Where we were friends and my favorite part of my day was getting to see you smile.” You closed your eyes, heart warring over disappointment and forgiveness. You were disappointed it had taken this long to hear him say those words, over the way you knew things could never go back to the way they used to be, but your heart felt forgiveness towards him all the same. You opened your eyes and you realized you were much closer to Luther than you had originally realized. “I really want to kiss you.” He whispered. You closed your eyes, and connected the distance, throwing everything to the wind, to just know what this feeling was like one time. The book slid off your lap, thudding to the floor of the car, and you pulled away abruptly. Why had you done that? Now you were only going to be able to think of the taste of his lips on yours as your heart continued to break over the fact that you could never have him.
“I’m sorry Luther, really, I- I can’t.” You whispered, grabbing the book off the floor of the car. He looked at you in hurt and the look was enough to make you run, slamming the car door behind you. The rain seemed to come down harder as you rushed back inside, willing yourself not to cry. He had hurt you, and no kiss could change that. You could forgive him, but you could never forget.
-
You could hear the noise from down the hallway, which only made your feet move faster in giddy excitement. A bunch of you were getting together to have dinner at Max and Elena’s, and even though Allison and Diego (and probably Lila if you were being honest, because the girl didn’t go anywhere without Diego) were going to be there, it couldn’t diminish your excitement for the night. You let yourself into the apartment you were a constant visitor of, and the boys cheered as you kicked off your shoes. There were a few graduated students here and one, Dean, had just gotten back from a few months in Italy and he wrapped you in a hug. You were surprised, you hadn’t expected to see the boy for at least another few weeks. He squished your face as you turned, surveying who else was there. As to be expected, Allison was seated next to Elena and Diego and Lila were in the living room with a few of Max’s friends. You made your way over to the couch, sitting down as the boys played Mario Kart.
“So, (Y/N), any new romantic prospects on the horizon?” Reyna, a senior theatre major, asked you. You shook your head.
“That’s not what I heard.” Dean said, taking a sip of his drink. Everyone turned to look at him, but he turned to Max, a smirk on his face. “She kissed Luther.” You shot up from where you were laying on the couch as everyone turned their attention back to you.
“I’m never telling you anything ever again.” You said seriously, but his grin was light and teasing and you don’t think he even really knew what he had just done.
“You kissed Luther?” Max questioned but Allison broke into a shit-eating grin.
“Alright, finally! Took you like eight months longer than I had expected though.” She said.
“No, no. Yes, I kissed him, but it wasn’t like that. It was a mistake and it’s never happening again.”
“When?” Max asked, voice grave.
“My birthday.” Max sighed, turning his back to you.
“So.. you kissed Luther. That should change everything.” Diego stated.
“It doesn’t change the fact that you guys fucked me over.”
“What did we do to make you hate us so much?” Lila asked.
“I was just some sick joke to you guys, you played with my feelings and left me humiliated, and I refuse to be the butt of everyone’s jokes. I was in high school and I refuse to be the same here, especially not to you people.”
“What are you talking about?” Diego questioned, eyebrows furrowed. You sighed.
“I’m not explaining it to you. You can’t even be bothered to own up to it.” you huffed, pushing yourself up from the couch. You pushed past Dean and Reyna, making your way out of the apartment, and down the hall. So much for a fun night.
-
The door slammed behind her. Diego swiveled towards her friends, utterly confused. Why hadn’t Luther told anyone he had kissed her? “Okay, what just happened?” Allison questioned. Max sighed.
“She has it in her head that this is some sort of elaborate prank to humiliate her for liking Luther.” Elena explained.
“That’s ridiculous, we’d never do something like that.” Allison defended. Max sighed, yet again.
“Look, this is something you may not know about her, but you have to understand. While she was in high school, and throughout her freshman year, she was the butt of everyone’s jokes, constantly being played and left out. It wasn’t even until she became friends with us that she got a taste of what real friendship is like. So, for you guys, the most popular people on campus to actually like her? It’s foreign and she doesn’t know how to handle that.”
“But Luther wouldn’t hurt her like that. He really liked her, still does.” Diego defended. She should know Luther better than that. Max shrugged.
“I said that too. She told me this story, how in middle school, boys would come up to her as a joke, to ask her out to embarrass her and run away laughing when she’d say yes. I think it left a memory that no one would ever really like her, so for Luther to like her, her first thought is that it was some twisted prank rather than him actually liking her.” There was pause. “As much as she wants to pretend that this doesn’t change anything, it changes everything. And I really hope she figures it out because I’ve never seen her as happy then when she was with him.”
-
You sighed as you locked the door to the Writing Center. It was late at night and you were dreading the walk back to your apartment. You and Sophie were originally supposed to work this shift together but she had changed her mind at the last minute, not wanting to be on campus so late. It was fine, really, but it left you without another tutor and without a ride back to the apartment. “Hey, are you just heading you out?” You heard from behind you and you turned to see Luther. You nodded, not trusting your voice. “Can I give you a ride?” You shook your head.
“It’s fine Luther, really.”
“Please? It would make me feel better knowing you got home safely.” You wanted to make a snarky remark about not doing things for him but you couldn’t bring yourself as you looked at him. You knew that as much as you didn’t want to sit in a car with him, you didn’t want to walk home this late at night more. It also meant a lot that even after everything, he still cared so much about your safety. You nodded, readjusting the straps of your bag on your shoulders. He cracked a soft smile and the two of you walked out in silence to his car. He opened your door for you and you slid in, dropping your bag to the ground. He walked around the back and got in, starting the car. The ride back to your apartment was silent and awkward and you felt a wave of relief roll over you as you saw your apartment building come within sight. Luther parked the car, but you made no move to get out. He had turned the car off completely and you had a feeling there was something he wanted to say. The silence continued until you felt forced to say something.
“Luther, I’m sorry, I really am.” He looked at you.
“Why’d you kiss me?” You sighed, shrugging, as you pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt around your hands.
“I wanted to know what it was like.” You said softly.
“I just... still don’t understand what happened that day. I mean, I really liked you, I still do, and I thought that you liked me back. But then you freaked out, and I still don’t understand it.” He said, never once taking his eyes off of you.
“I was, I am in love with you, and all I ever was to you was some sick joke for laughs. I couldn’t do it.”
“You think you were joke? (Y/N), I am just as equally in love with you, and I would never hurt you like that.”
“Why? Why are you in love with me? What could I possibly have to offer you that every other girl on campus who pines after you doesn’t have? I’m certainly not as pretty or as smart as some of the girls you hang out with.”
“Because you’re you! Because when I’m having a bad day, I can just talk to you and it seems like all my problems fade away. Because you’re so incredibly smart and passionate and you aren’t afraid to pursue your dreams. Because you get along with my siblings, because I can get lost in your eyes! There’s not another girl on campus who looks at me for me and not for my name.” By this point, you were in tears as you had a horrible sinking feeling that you had royally fucked up. This whole time, you had thought it was a prank meant to hurt you when you had been the one to cause all the hurt. All this... for what? “And I thought after that day that you kissed me, that things might get better, but we still aren’t talking to each other but I just want my friend back, in any way I can have her.” Your head rested in your hands, unsure of what to do or what to say. You were still crazy in love with boy, and he you.
“Where do we go from here?” You whispered, looking up at him from your hands.
“Well, you have two options. You walk back inside your apartment and don’t look back, and we let the other go. Or you sit here and we talk about everything that needs to be talked about.”
“I mean, how do we even fix this Luther?”
“We start over. Start from a place of trust and communication. Tell me the truth about the last six months.”
“You want the truth? I am in love with you and it scares the hell out of me, because I’m so used to everyone leaving me or using me for their own gain. And I was so scared you would be like everyone else that I left before you could hurt me anymore, convincing myself this was some elaborate lie to hurt me. But the last six months have been hell and there were nights where I wanted nothing more than to seek you out because I felt so alone.” Your voice broke on the last word and you weren’t sure how much more of this you could take.
“I would’ve been there, you know. If you had asked.” You nodded.
“I’m sorry Luther.” You whispered, and he put his hand on your knee.
“I’m sorry I never reached out earlier. I should’ve, because you were clearly not okay.” You shrugged, wiping your tears.
“I kinda deserved it.”
“Hey, I could’ve at least fought for the girl I’m in love with. I just let you walk out of my life.” You took a sharp breath because you weren’t quite sure you’d ever get used to hearing him refer to you as the girl he was in love with. You looked up at him and he inched closer. “I’m going to kiss you again, if that’s okay with you, but you have to promise not to run away again.”
You nodded. “I promise I’m not going anywhere as long as you want me here.” He kissed you again, and it was so wonderfully different from the last time, because you were both trying to communicate everything you weren’t sure how to say, and because you weren’t sure this would be the last time you’d kiss him. He pulled away, but the two of you remained quite close, feeling his lips mumble his next words against yours.
“Five owes Kayla so much money.” You laughed, cupping his face. He smiled at you.
“Hey, can I kiss you again?” He nodded, and you placed a short, but sweet kiss on his lips. He held you close though.
“Hey, what are you doing on Saturday?” You shrugged.
“Nothing.”
“You want to go on a date?” You nodded, smiling giddily. A pause. “Hey, we can’t hang out on Saturday. I’m taking a really pretty girl on a date.” You snorted.
“Oh yeah?” He nodded, a stupid grin on his face.
“Yeah, I’m really nervous.”
“Well, you should give me a kiss for good luck then. The date has to go well, obviously.” He smirked and kissed your lips again. You reveled in the feeling as he pulled away. You let his thumb rub soft circles on your cheek as you looked at him. Your phone dinged, and you sighed. It was Sophie, asking if you’d be home soon. “I should probably get inside, it’s getting late.” He nodded, looking slightly disappointed. “Can I have a goodnight kiss?” He nodded, pressing a brief kiss to your lips. “I never want to stop doing that.” He smiled. “I’ll text you in the morning, okay?” He nodded again.
“Sleep well.” He said as you opened the door, grabbing your bag from the floor. You slung it over your shoulder as you stood by the door.
“Night Luther. Love you.”
Being able to say the words freely put a smile on your face, which only grew when he responded with a “Love you too.” You shut the door, waving to him as you headed inside your apartment building. For the first time in months, you could go to sleep feeling the happiest you had in years. For the first time, everything was going just right, even if had taken a couple months longer and left turns to get there.
#luther hargreeves#luther hargreeves fic#luther hargreeves x reader#luther hargreeves imagines#luther hargreeves imagine#I hope this ended okay#I got in my feels
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thank you so much for your patience with this late chapter! I had some frustrating family drama pop up so I wasn't able to finish it until today. Enjoy!
“Lucy, Lucy, Lucy!” Levy plops onto the couch next to her friend. She grabs the blondes arm and shakes it. “Omg you won’t believe what happened today at school!”
“What? What? The teacher you hate croaked?”
“Pfft, I wish. No! I met Natsu’s roommate! Well, technically I’ve known the guy for like a year from school, we were lab partners, remember Gray, I think I mentioned him, anyways, yeah, he totally gave me all the details I wanted to know!”
But at the name Natsu, Lucy frowns and sits back. “Lev, you know I just wanna move on from this...”
“Just hear me out, I promise it’ll be worth it.” She leans in, “trust me.”
Lucy rolls her eyes. “Okay, fine. Spill. What did Gray have to say?”
“So... starting with that Touka chick. Everything Natsu said was true. You’re not the first girl she’s harassed over him, in fact he offered to contact the other girl if you’d like to ask the person yourself.”
“That’s not necessary, I believe it.”
“He also confirmed that the profiles you saw on Ig are fake and how she’s been stalking him for a couple years now.”
“So Gray’s just his roommate?”
“No, he said they’ve been friends since middle school, so he knows Natsu well.”
“Anything else?”
“The stuff he told you about his family are true. Um, he works at a place called Yousei Mart, and that he’s an idiot but a good guy that is just really naive sometimes. The more he talked, the more I remembered him mentioning his roommate before. Like venting about stuff. Anyway, he said Natsu’s been completely distressed over all this and he thinks you should give his friend a second chance. I think so too, Lu, cause I believed him that Natsu’s a great guy and this whole Touka business is just unfortunate.”
The blonde pulls her legs up onto the couch, wraps her arms around them and rests her chin on her knees, thinking about everything she’d learned. Did she really want to deal with the baggage? What if Touka continues to harass her or them? It would be unfortunate to lose a guy like Natsu, because he really did seem like one of the good guys. She pulls up the memories of him on the train when he’d cornered her... ‘he was really devastated...’ and to do what he’d done, the amount of time he spent chasing and waiting for her, he must really like her to go that far.
“Well, Lu? What do you think?”
She’d definitely be using a higher standard to judge him, so he’ll need to be very convincing to gain her trust a second time, but, “I guess it couldn’t hurt to give him another chance.”
“Then there’s just one last thing for you to do.”
“Ugh,” she groans, “call him.” Lucy picks up her phone and dials Natsu’s number, but he doesn’t pick up. So, she hangs up without leaving a message. She made the first call, now it was his turn to respond if he wanted a second chance.
Approximately thirty minutes later an out-of-breath Natsu is on the phone. “Sorry Lucy! I was in class and the teacher is a real dick about cellphones.” He’d literally run out the room the second the lecture was over to call her back.
“It’s fine, I thought that might be the case.”
“Did you wanna talk to me about something?”
“Yeah, first have you spoken to your roommate at all today?”
“Um... no, why is something wrong with him?”
“Well, in that case...” she pauses and takes a deep breath. “So, turns out your roommate and my roommate have a class together, actually have had several, so they know each other and today they talked about us.”
“Really...” guess he’ll be calling Gray after this phone call!
“Look, bottom line is I believe my friend and since she believes your roommate about you and that girl... I’ll give you another chance. But remember! It’s not because I trust you yet it’s because I trust them.”
“I’ll take it! I understand totally and I promise I’ll do anything to prove to you that you can trust me.”
“I mean, I’m not sure how, but...”
“Um...” Natsu thinks fast, “are you busy right now?”
“Now? Um, not really...”
“I gotta run or I’ll be late for work, but can you meet me at Yousei Mart near Haramachi park as soon as you can?”
“Why?”
“Please?? I’ll buy you dinner too for coming.”
‘Ugh...’ “Okay, I’ll get ready and head over.”
“Thank you!! I’m just really happy you’re giving me a chance Lucy. Okay, I’ll see you soon!”
Lucy hangs up the phone and lets her roommate know she was heading out to see Natsu. The location he’d asked her to go to was several blocks away and takes her 20 minutes to get there. So, as she walked, she did her best to keep her cool. Half of her was thrilled to try again while the other half still apprehensive. Natsu had sounded so excited too, she could almost picture the man doing a victory dance the moment they’d ended the phone call. But where was this place that he wanted her to go to? She knew it was like a convenience store, maybe that’s where he works? Must be if he’d said he needed to get to work and still wanted to see her.
“Irasshaimase!” Lucy hears as she enters the store. A bit odd for a convenience store, but welcoming, nonetheless. She’s greeted by an employee, a red headed woman.
“May I help you find anything?”
“Actually, I’m here to see Natsu. He asked me to come.”
“Oh! You must be Lucy! Please, follow me,” the woman gestures, “he’s in the back working on inventory. My name is Erza by the way and we’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Really?” Hopefully nothing bad...
“Oh, yes. The pretty blonde he met on a train. The guy can’t shut up about you,” Erza laughs. “It was just weird, well new because we’ve never seen him so excited over a girl before.”
Lucy blushes from the compliment. “How long have you worked with Natsu?”
“Hmm, four years, I think. He started when he was still in high school, but I’ve been here a little longer.” They reach the back area and find Natsu hunched over some boxes tagging items. “Here he is, Natsu, your friend Lucy is here.”
“It’s okay for me to be back here?”
“I don’t see why not,” the woman shrugs. “We’re a pretty tight-knit crew here, like a family, so it’s also pretty lax how things are run.”
“Oh. Okay, thank you Erza.”
“You’re welcome. Stay as long as you like.”
Once the woman goes back to the front, Lucy turns to Natsu who was waiting patiently. “Well, I’m here. What did you want me to see?”
“That was part of it,” he smiles. “You said you didn’t know if you could trust me, so what could be better than introducing you to people who know me best. And people like Erza, she’s got no problem telling it like she sees it. If I was an asshole, she would have been the first to tell you to run away.”
“Yeah, she mentioned you’ve been co-workers for a few years. She seems nice, but I can see what you mean cause she looks tough too.”
Natsu laughs, “that’s an understatement. Oh! Come with me,” he grabs her hand and pulls her along, “gramps is still in the office, so you should meet him!”
“Gramps?”
“He’s the owner. Real name’s Makarov but he tells us to call him Gramps. He really is like a grandfather figure to us. Gave me a job at 17 and I’ve loved every minutes being here!”
She follows along, allowing him to hold her hand. Lucy couldn’t lie that his larger hand was nice and warm, and it felt snug and secure together. ‘Stick to your guns woman!’ She chides herself in an effort to fight the emotions bubbling to the surface. What was it about this man’s damn smile that made her heart thump!
Natsu knocks on the doorframe before going in. “Gramps! There someone I want you to meet.”
The older make looks up from his paperwork. “What is it brat, I’m busy here.”
“Be nice old man, this is that girl Lucy I told you about.”
“Oh... the elusive Lucy you’ve sold your soul for.” He snickers. “Welcome, my dear, it’s nice to finally meet the woman who wrangle our Natsu.”
“W-Wrangle?” She sputters. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. We barely had one date.”
“I’ve known this kid for a few years and he’s never so much as looked at a woman. I thought he was gay for the longest time till you came along.” He grins. “And by the looks of you, he lucked into a good one.”
The blush on Lucy’s face increases. “I don’t know about that. I mean I’m nothing special.”
“Lucy,” Makarov leans into his desk, “may I call you Lucy?” Once she nods, he continues. “Never sell yourself short if someone gives you a compliment. Take it from this old geezer, when a man is willing to give you his heart, that means you’re pretty special in their eyes.”
She had nothing else to say against such logic. “Thank you, gramps.”
“You’re very welcome,” he smiles. “Now get out, I have work to do.”
For a few more hours, Lucy hangs out with Natsu in the back while he works, and as promised, he buys her a bento dinner from the restaurant next door. Throughout the evening, his co-worker Erza and one more named Mira drops by to check on them or add to the conversation. She learned a lot about him from them because they were not shy about embarrassing the man. It was hilarious!
But best of all, Mira is the sister of the girl who was harassed by Touka. According to the woman, Touka had started off with the same tactics when she’d thought Natsu was seeing her sister Lisanna. Showing up, trying to talk to her, coming off all sweet and innocent. But Lisanna had a boyfriend who eventually scared the girl off. With Mira’s help, Lucy could finally be confident that Natsu had been telling the truth all along.
When the store closes, Natsu insists on walking Lucy home due to the late hour. He pays for them to take the train to make it a faster and safer trip. So, once settled in their seats, she sighs and turns to him. “I believe you now,” her voice is kept soft and low from the other travelers. “You were telling me the truth.”
It was like a wave of relief washes over him, but in that moment, it wasn’t time for an I told you so, so he just grins. “Movie date next?”
#nalu#nalu au#Natsu dragneel#Lucy heartfilia#nalu fan fiction#nalu fan fic#Natsu x lucy#strangers on a train#ch 12#fairytail
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'My greatest creation' : New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !
"My greatest creation"
"They took you away from me, Park and they are going to fucking regret it !"
Chapter Summary : Yirina is remembering an moment of her life for the first time before she could go to her old house in Ukraine with Park & Zasha....
To read it on AO3, click here !
Words : +4000
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I don't know if it was an good idea but I think it was an better one than staying in the warehouse for 2 days straight and doing nothing except to look at everyone around working while us, we were going to watch them going out for their mission at our desk and having to face Hudson that surprisely, I didn't see....well, neither Park or Zasha saw him, making me wonder if he was actually there or not as Woods told us before we arrived at this place days ago. At least, we will not see him for an while since we are leaving, me, Park & Zasha to Ukraine.
Of course, we had to tell everybody of our little trip and like when we told them of our plans for the Lubyanka, reactions were an bit mixed and like before, we managed to convince everyone of our good intentions and Woods even say that they will have to lie to Hudson about that and it was good, meaning that we were good to go. We waited after we finish eating in the evening before we decide to finally go away from the safehouse to get to the small abandonned village I lived in my youth near Donetsk, not forgetting to take some necessary things with us like money and our pistols.
Since Zasha remembered exactly where the village was, they were the one to drive the car, Park installing herself in the front passenger seat and me, getting myself on the backseats of the car because in fact, I was never able to have an proper sleep last night so I really need to do it right now. The drive will last approximatively 14 hours to get near of Donetsk but with the night falling and the urge of make an stop, we will principaly arrive at our destination for the next night.
I tried to stay awake for the first 30 minutes of the driving but obviously, I start to feel myself going to sleep slowly on the backseats and to be more comfortable, I decided to lean myself on the seats, looking at Park's direction with an smile before I close my eyes, ready to sleep and to have some peace....
I opened my eyes to find myself sit on an comfortable chair....my old house...an memory of my youth...the first one I'm having since my coma....It was so strange, so calm and weird to see myself back as an child....It was really my old house that was looking great, the fireplace burning down peacefully as I was looking at it with an smile, holding in my arms an brown teddy bear. I was holding it like I wasn't able to get away from it....Yiri....
As I was still looking at the fireplace, my view was suddenly blocked by someone and when I look up, I could see an redhead woman, her hands on her waist and her eyes on me, looking an bit curious to see me there....Mom....mommy ?....
"Yirina !" She said in an low voice as I was having an straight face, grinning an little. "It's been the third time that I'm asking you to go to bed, it's 9 PM." She told me, pointing to the clock that was standing above the fireplace and it was night outside.
"But mom...." I pleaded, redressing myself on the seat, my feets not even touching the ground. "You told me that Dad was going to come to me to say good night." I said, sounding a bit sad about it before she moved to get at my level.
"Hey..." She breathed, sounding very low again. "I did tell you that...but your father need you to go to bed and then, he will come." She affirmed, taking my hands in her own and looking at me with good eyes. "So, please, go to bed and he will come to you, you're gonna miss school if you stay here." She added before landing an kiss on my forehead.
"Thanks, mommy." I smiled at her before she move from me, allowing me to finally move from the seat even if I wasn't willing to do it, walking away with my teddy bear in hand to my bedroom.
I entered it and I quickly got myself into bed but instead of directly going to sleep under the blankets, I stayed sit, looking at the door of my room, awaiting for my dad to come here like he promised, like my mom told me and I awaited. 5 minutes later, I could hear some footsteps coming towards the door until it opened, revealing an man....Dad....my daddy....he was looking an bit tired and exhausted.
"Daddy !" I exclaimed, opening my arms towards him as he entered the room, I wasn't moving at all.
"Hey, my little Yirina." He sounded enthusiatic to see me, forgetting to close the door behind him to embrace me, sitting on the edge of my bed.
"Dad." I whispered to myself, happy to see him before we broke the hug, looking at each other.
"Mom said that you wanted to see me so here I am." He expressed, looking outside the room to see Mom, peaking her head to see us. "She said that you were an bad girl to not go to bed." He scoffed, releasing an little laugh.
"No, I just wanted to wait for you." I breathed.
"I know....I had to chase the monsters that was under your bed." He explained, joining his hands together, an smile on his face.
"Oh, did you succeed ?" I asked him, changing position to kneel, my knees under the blanket.
"Well, they're still running around and you know that dad needs to neutralize to make sure that you finally have an good sleep." He replied, grinning an little as he moved his hands towards me, taking my hands in his own like Mom did. "You know, monster hunting is an ugly work and dad has to sometimes get his hands dirty." He added before looking at my hands. "I'm making sure that your hands stay perfectly clean."
"They're well clean, Mom told me that I need to wash them before we go to eat." I admitted, making him laugh an little about it as I wasn't understanding why before I joined him too.
"Yeah, Mom is always giving the good advices." He confirmed as Mom got closer to the room.
"Heard that, James !" She raised her voice in an proud way as Dad look at her.
"Thank you, Anastasia." He smiled at her, still having his hands around mine.
"Get Yirina to bed quickly, okay ?" She ordered and Dad nodded, causing her to leave our sight before he looked back at me and then, I was intrigued by something that was on his shirt at his heart level.
"Dad, what's that ?" I removed my right hand to point at the ensignia : an winged sword.
"Oh that ?" He looked at it, sounding an bit lost. "It's...an winged dagger...it's...well, something that's my line of work." He finally replied.
"Who Dares Wins ?" I repeated the words that was on the ensignia.
"It's my motto, Yirina." He added to his answer. "Listen, this...it's too risky to talk about even with you, you understand ?" I nodded to him. "I don't want the monsters to know about it." He continued, smiling an little & removing his hands from mine. "So, it's time for you to go to sleep, okay ? Mom said that you're going to miss school tomorrow."
"Okay." I whispered as he landed an little kiss on my forehead.
"Good night, Yiri." He then got up from my bed to get back to the door and he waved at me before he finally close the door and leaving me alone in the dark.
It was strange since there were some light in the room from outside thanks to the moon but then....I start to feel my arms and hands getting attached to something like an chair....I wasn't in that memory anymore. I opened my eyes again to find myself in an sort of meeting room, unable to move as I was tied up, ropes wrapped around my legs and my hands, holded. All around the table, there were TV's that were turning on & off....until I saw Russell Adler arriving from the darkness.
"Listen, Bell, your lack of trust towards me is kinda piss me off and you need to talk clearly now." He told me as he was walking towards the table, pointing at me with his hand...I'm not Bell...
"I....I....." I started to said, finding myself lost, alone in that room where only the table was visible but Adler....he was like the devil himself, watching his prey, making me stop.
"The world is in danger and you're not talking...Bell, you need to tell..." He started to clench his fists, shaking an little his head and taking an deep breath before he slammed his fists against the table.....
"Where's Perseus ?"
Seeing myself again as an child with my father and my mother was an shock like if I was discovering them for the first time but....seeing Adler in my head...was more than just that. I remembered that well....an hallucination I had when he injected me with the needles during his 'numerous tests' to make me crack. He wanted to break me further and further until he got his answer and he got it...at what price for me ? I can't trust his man anymore and I will never will....never.
"Yirina." Hearing's Park lovely voice break me out of my sleep, making me open my eyes slowly to discover her above me, wondering about me.
"Hey, Park." I grinned an little, trying to forget about the part of seeing Adler back in my head and just thinking of my child memory.
"You're okay ? You didn't seem right." She asked me as I was redressing myself on the seats, her removing herself to allow me to do it.
"Well, yes." I replied, scratching the back of my head before I look around to see that the car was stopped to an hidden place in an forest, looking like at the beginning of the evening. "Where are we ?" I asked her.
"We're arrived !" She responded enthusiastic but my eyes went wide open at hearing.
"Already ?" I exclaimed, stunned to hear that we did actually arrive at our destination as Park nodded to me. "Does that mean that I slept for the entire trip ?" She nodded again "Oh bloody hell." I said to myself as I could see Zasha standing outside to have maybe some air for them. To say that I did sleep since we left Moscow.....
"You slept for an long time but we preferred to let you like that, I know that you weren't able to have some rest last night." She affirmed, having somehow know that I didn't close my eyes at Portnova's place...damn, she know well...."Yiri...tell me." She demanded, taking my hands in her own too as I was looking an bit sad, thinking of Adler.
"I got an memory back : me...as an child." I sniffed, passing my hand through my face to clean nothing in reality, I was just seeing if I got any tears on me. "My dad saying that he was chasing the monsters below my bed....now, I know the full meaning of it." I affirmed, understanding now that my father was working with the MI6 and the monsters he was chasing, it was Perseus. "Then....I relive an hallucination of Adler...asking me where was Perseus." I looked at Park, snorting.
"Like....like that day ?" I nodded to her question.
"Seeing myself sit and tied up and seeing him coming....unable to do an thing." My hands start to tremble at saying this before Park moved to reinforce her hands on me, trying to stop the shaking.
"Yirina, look at me." She ordered me as I was focused on looking at my hands in gloves before I slowly look at her. "I know it's hard but we will get over this together, okay ?" She reaffirmed, making me nod again as she move her hands to clean an tear that I had on my face, making me grin.
"I....yes, we will." I whispered before I take an deep breath, looking at her proudly. "So...we're at our destination..."
"Yes, we parked the car at an hundred meters from the village in case of trouble." She explained as I looked around me again. "You might need to eat something before we go to the village to find your old house." She moved to get me an half bottle of water and an small cake with it and then I start to eat and drink quickly, finishing the cake very fast. "Hey, easy." She said, astonished to have seen me finish the cake like that.
"I'm good." I exclaimed to her with an smile as I was just finishing to drink the water. "Is Zasha okay ?" I asked, looking outside to see them, hands on their waist and she nodded to me even if it was hard to talk about it.
"They did the most part of the travel and....they're still thinking of Portnova." She fully replied, also looking at them.
"It's hard for them and I really hope that the two can come back together." I expressed, thinking of Zasha's proposal that they weren't able to do years ago. "Well...let's go then." I sniffed, causing the two of us to withdraw from each other to get out of the car and without losing too much time even if I had an little talk with Zasha, we took some flashlights and our pistols before we walk away, leaving the car in an safe place.
Shit....to say that I was going to go back to my old house like that with Park & Zasha, three years after the last time I did go there with only Zasha. It was going to be hard but it was worth the risk to do. As Zasha remember the place well, they were the one to take the lead as we were walking towards the village. When I saw it from upclose, I start to hear cries inside my head : men...women crying, the sounds of flame and gunshots all around me like if I was reliving the day my parents died....for the time time.
With that in my head, I was struggling to stay normal and focused on walking with Park & Zasha, not wanting to pass out so close of my old house. The village....it was so much destroyed, never touched by the authorities after its destruction....feeling back in time, it's seems, it's so weird and strange to be back here as an adult....as an free adult. It took no time until Zasha found my old house : the only one that was still standing up well enough to not have its walls down unlike an large part of the other houses.
When we all entered in my old house as the front door was basically destroyed, I could hear the voice of Mom & Dad....and me too in my child and this time, I was struggling to not cry even if I was on the urge of doing it. First thing that Zasha did was to go to check the bookcase, having remember of the location of what we were looking for here as me....I decide to go check my old bedroom, seeing it in bad state but the bed still there until I decide to install myself right at the same spot Dad did in my memory.
I swear that I could see an vision of myself as an child in that bed, looking at me and offering her hand like I did...like if I was my father right now. I took the vision's hands in mine, looking at it with an smile.
"It's going to be okay, Yirina." Me as an child said to me, dressed in the same clothes in that memory
"I know...I'm the one chasing the monsters, now." I grinned about it, trying to think that my father tried his best to hide his work to me as my eyes were still on me as an child, wondering what she could think of seeing me like that. "I think that you need to go to sleep." I scoffed, taking the words of my mom before I could see the vision vanish into thin air as I could hear footsteps coming in and the sound of something opening.
"Zasha just found the secret door." It was Park that was coming in, causing me to got up from my old bed.
"I'm coming." I whispered, taking my flashlight in hand to leave the bedroom, closing the door behind me slowly before I got back with Park to Zasha. "See that....you remember the place well." I said to them, sounding low
"Yeah...it wasn't so hard." They exclaimed, also low as they put their flashlight inside the secret passage. "Guess that we will have to go down." They added before they let me took the lead.
"Okay, let's go then." I then opened the way, starting to slowly got down the stairs, followed closely by Zasha and Park and honestly, I was breathing more rapidly at each step I was making until I got my feets on the basement ground.
"Well, this place didn't change at all." Zasha told me, their flashlight pointed at the wall where there were still the old pictures of Perseus and then, they walked to it.
"So, this place was used by your father ?" I nodded to Park who was astonished to see an place like this, seeing the materials on the same table we found it as she moved towards it. "Can say that your father did keep his tools from the war." She admitted, looking at the gun on the table. "That's an Sten Mark 2....the favorite gun that the SAS were using during the World War 2." She added, taking an closer look to the rusty gun.
"It might not work anymore." I breathed, seeing the state of the gun as it was like almost a lot of years that it was there until I got my eyes on something that wasn't there. "Zed, there were paperworks in here, right ?" I asked to them.
"Of course...uhm....we hide all of it somewhere in here." They start to look around until they moved to get under the stairs, having guess of the place. "Yeap, it's here : we put everything in an box and hid it in case someone managed to find the place." They then found an box like they said that they took in hands. It was an medium box so Zasha didn't need any help as they put the box next to the table. "Okay, let's see what on them." They added, taking an paper from the box, illuminating the paper with their flashlight as we start to do the same.
"On this, I've got some details about your father." Park was the one to speak, getting my attention on it as she showed me the paper she had in hand.
"He joined the SAS in 1943 and then the MI6 in 1949, one year after he escaped the gulag." I read the paper, finding out more about who was my father. "The other things is focused on his records during the war." I continued seeing the multiples exploits of my father : helping the 'Maquis' in France in 1944 and then captured by the germans at the end of the year. I then put the paper aside back on the table.
"Shit...your father faced the Nova-6 threat."Park exclaimed, handing to me another paper : an report of my father about the Nova-6....the deadly nerve gas that I did hear about and the threat of it. "He's writing that he observed the use of the gas on German prisoners." She continued, showing the lines about it.
"Damnit." I breathed, having finished to look at it, putting my hands on the table. "I don't know much about the Nova-6 threat but....by what he wrote down, he was dead serious."
"Wasn't it something that happened in the 60's ?" Zasha asked to Park, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes but it was mostly the CIA that was dealing with it." She replied, raising her shoulders. "But this file is basically saying that the Nova-6 threat could have been destroyed years prior...." She then looked at me with an very small grin. "Your father could have stopped all of this but...." She stopped herself, looking an bit sad.
"I know..." I tapped her shoulder in an friendly way before I looked at Zasha. "There's nothing else ?"
"No, the other papers are little things : mostly old reports dating from the war and...." They then cut themselves too, their eyes focused on the box. "Oh...I forgot that." They put their hand inside it to remove it....with an tape recorder in hand. "We didn't listen to this at the time but we can now."
"Maybe." I whispered as I look around the basement until I found something on the same table we put the papers back on : an old listening device compatible for the tape recorder. "Well, we can." I grabbed the device to put it close from Zasha, not forgetting to remove the dust on it as there were an lot of it on it.
"That's quite intriguing." Park admitted, having the same thoughts as me with that mysterious tape recorder as Zasha was putting it on the listening device, ready to play it on. We prepared ourselves for this, especially me.
"Yirina." The tape recorder started and....it was my father's voice, sounding an bit low....that tape was something from him to me "It's your father....James Doyle." He said clearly as I was trying to not cry right now. "You maybe wonder why I'm doing this little recording to you but it's very simple....you need to know of things." He added
"Dad." I breathed in an low voice, holding back my tears as Park move to get next to me.
"To be honest, I'm working with the MI6...the british secret services....it's hard to tell this to my own daughter but this is the truth." He affirmed as I could hear, through the tape, him scratching something. "The monster I'm chasing, it's bad people we're calling Perseus.....he did bad things and he doesn't like people like me...that's why I'm chasing him down."
"Daddy." I could feel tears on my face, feeling the sadness of hearing his voice again.
"You will know this only at your 18th birthday but there's something more important for you to know....Yirina...you're my greatest creation !" He confessed, making me smile and cry at the same time. "Having someone like you...with your mother make me feel so happy, I'm proud of you as always...you have the eyes of your mother....you're my greatest creation, you will stay in my heart....I need to go...goodbye." The recording then stopped with me filled with so much tears and happiness at the same time. My father....he saw me as the best thing that happened in his life...it's...meaning an lot.
"I....Park." I said before I crack, finding myself to put my arms around her, trying to look for some recomfort. "Daddy."
"It's okay, Yiri." She reassured me, her voice also sad about me as I just heard an voice from the past right now...my father literally talked to me "We're here for you." She affirmed again as Zasha approached us, looking at me with an big smile even if their eyes were filled with sadness.
"We're going to do this, Yirina." They told me before they move to get back next to the table, at the box. "Do you think we're taking everything ?"
"Yes...everything, we're taking everything." I responded, sure of my words as I was feeling so happy & sad to have heard my father again, finding recomfort in Park's arms as we were back at my old house, trying to find again about who was my father. I couldn't let everything that belonged to him here, it was this legacy and I don't want Perseus to find it or anyone else. "Park....you're the love of my life...Zasha...Portnova, we're family for life." I said proudly to them as I took an deep breath, looking around the room as I was still in Park's arms.....
"I will finish what you have started, Dad...and I have my friends for it !"
#cod bocw#cod cold war#cod black ops cold war#cod cw#call of duty cold war#cod#cod bell#call of duty#black ops cold war#yirina grigoriev#helen park#zasha smirnov#fem!bell
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Spencer x BAU x Sister
Requested? Yes!
“Can I request something platonic for Spencer Reid in Crimnal minds? Maybe where he has a younger sister that's around 5 or 6 years old and for some reason she has to stay at the office with Spencer for the day and he's hesitant because he thinks she will just cause a scene but everyone loves her?”
Author: Jade:)))
A/N: So this is definitely the longest imagine I’ve ever written (Over 2k), but I loved the idea and I got carried away with it. I also have no idea if it makes sense but I hope you all enjoy!
The team had barely checked into work when Hotch called them into his office for a brief meeting, no one knew what it was for, but they noticed the absence of Spencer’s presence.
“Is there another case? You said today would be a paperwork day.” Emily inquired, looking down at Hotch who was seated at his desk.
“It is. That’s not why I called you here. If you haven’t noticed, Spencer is running late. He called me ahead of time to notify me of this. Something came up and he has to bring someone in with him today.” Hotch paused, taking notice of everyone’s shifted behavior. Confusion was evident on the faces before him. “Although this is out of the ordinary, I expect nothing less from any of you today. You will continue to work and not create any scenes about the situation.”
“What’s going on?” Derek asked, worrying filling his mind about Spencer. Who was he bringing in? His mom? Everyone knew how much his mom wasn’t a fan of the “government’s work”. Or maybe it was a girlfriend? But that didn’t make sense. There was no reason for him to have to bring her here even if he did have one.
The team was dismissed and they went back to their desks, waiting for Spencer to arrive.
Back at Spencer’s place, Spencer was distressed to say the least. Today was Monday, and it wasn’t until he had woken the little girl up despite her protests that he forgot she didn’t have school. Some teacher work day thing. Spencer was at a loss for how he forgot, but it didn’t matter at this point. He didn’t have time to call a babysitter, not that he really trusted them anyways.
Now he was gathering items in a backpack for the little girl. Coloring books, a couple of barbies, a book, and a stuffed elephant, her favorite one. Spencer had already prepared a lunch for her moments earlier, it was sitting on the counter waiting.
“Skye, are you ready?” Spencer called from the living room, searching for his keys. He was already late to the BAU and even though he called in advance, he hated being late. “Skye?”
After the second call the little girl ran into the living room, hairbrush in hand.
“I need help!” Her lips formed a pout as she looked up at her older brother. Spencer looked up to see his sister’s hair half in a tangled mess. No matter what he did, he could never seem to get her hair under control. He wanted to tell her that he could fix her hair later, that they didn’t have much time or that her hair looked fine. But he decided against it since he knew she would argue and he definitely did not have time for that. Kneeling behind her, her took the brush from her hand and combing it gently through her hair.
“We’re going to my work today, which means that you need to be on your best behavior. You know what that means, right?” Spencer paused his actions, waiting for a reply. Skye nodded her head furiously. He smiled at her eagerness and continued to brush her hair. “My friends will also be there. They’re super nice, but you still aren’t allowed to go anywhere without letting me know, you understand? I can’t lose you.”
Skye nodded again before turning around to face him, “I understand.”
Spencer smiled and placed a kiss against her forehead, “Then I guess we’re ready to go.”
Walking into the BAU was a task in itself. Skye claimed her hands were full; one arm wrapped around Mr. Pebbles, her stuffed elephant, and her other hand holding on to Spencer's. So Spencer was left with one arm to carry his bag, both of their lunches, Skye’s backpack, and the files that Spencer had collected on the way up to the elevator.
The elevator ding was enough to attract the team’s attention. Everyone’s eyes moved down to the little girl who was slightly ahead of Spencer, practically dragging him into the bullpen as she looked around amazed. Spencer directed her to his desk where he hastily dropped everything onto his desk. Skye was too busy staring at Derek, who was approaching the scene along with the rest of the team behind him.
“Hey, kid, who’s this little lady?” Derek smiled down at her and she instantly smiled back. She already liked him.
“This is, um, she’s my little sister. She doesn’t have school today and I couldn’t call a babysitter so I brought her up here. After confronting Hotch first.” Spencer chewed on his lip, not sure how to continue.
The team examined Spencer for a moment. They always noticed the bags under his eyes, but they assumed it was just lack of sleep from nightmares, not from dealing with a kid. The random pen marks on his hands? Those were just supposed to be his random scribbles to get a pen to work, not markings from a kid at home who was drawing. The way he knew how to talk to kids? It was assumed it was just all the knowledge he had. Not that he had experience.
“My name is Skye.” Skye broke the silence, and the group turned their attention to her, whose eyes solely focused on Derek.
“Hey, Skye, my name is Derek! I’m a friend of your brother’s. How old are you?”
Skye bounced on her feet as she held up her hand, “I’m 5!’
Derek laughed at her and the team knew in that moment they couldn’t be upset with Spencer for keeping it a secret.
“How could you not tell us you had a little sister?” JJ nudged Spencer softly, a smile playing on her lips.
“She’s adorable!” Squealed Penelope as she joined the conversation with Derek. Spencer felt himself blushing, he wasn’t expecting such a positive response. He wrapped his arms around himself and shrugged.
“I don’t know, I guess safety and privacy.. I told Hotch for work reasons, so he understood my household situation.”
“Well I don’t think you’ll have to worry about her safety anymore. She’s about to have the whole team wrapped around her finger” Emily spoke and shot a smile at Spencer before she went to go introduced herself.
An hour passed and Skye hadn’t caused any trouble. She stayed seated next to Spencer and played with her dolls. Occasionally asking him to name a location for her dolls to pretend to be, or have him play as Mr. Pebbles for a few minutes. He didn’t think twice before agreeing, not thinking of the teasing Derek would give him later.
“Where does Mr. Pebbles wanna go?” Skye thought out loud. Spencer glanced over from his computer and smiled. Her hair was already starting to stick up in places despite his efforts to comb it down earlier.
“Elephants can be found in 37 countries just south of the Sahara Desert. Maybe you should take him somewhere warm.”
JJ walked by, setting a file on Derek’s desk and then onto Spencer’s. Overhearing the conversation she interjected,
“Like the beach? It’s warm there!”
Skye looked up with much wonder in her eyes as a grin broke across her face, “The beach! Yes!”
JJ and Spencer exchanged a smile as the child went on pretending to take her elephant to the beach.
A little while later, Skye had insisted that Derek needed his help completing paperwork. Spencer objected at first, saying that Derek needed to focus on work but Skye swore that she would be on her best behavior. So now Skye was seated on Derek’s leg and had colored 2 pictures for him. She was currently writing his name on a paper since Derek teased that he didn’t know how to spell his own name. Spencer couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of Derek trying to fill out paperwork around the child in his lap.
“Derek starts with a D! And this is how you write a D..” Skye stuck her tongue out in concentration, slowly writing the letter on the paper in front of her for Derek to see. He took his eyes off his files to watch the girl and smiled.
“Are you sure that’s how you do it?” Derek teased, tickling her sides. A loud squeal left her lips followed by a laugh.
“Yes! That’s how you write it. Spencer taught me and he’s always right.” She smiled proudly, looking back at her brother who smiled right back.
Lunch time rolled around and Skye claimed that she wanted to sit with the girls, who happily accepted her. She shared her grapes with Penelope who had not so subtly given her multiple pieces of candy in exchange.
“I got candy!” Skye held it up for Spencer to see.
“Yes, you do. But why don’t we space out the pieces so you don’t get sick from eating them all at once?” Spencer stood next to her chair pushing her hair back out of her face, attempting to run his fingers through her locks. It was even more tangled than earlier and he knew it was gonna be hard to brush through later.
“Ah, come on, genius. We know a few pieces of candy won’t kill her.” Garcia smiled, winking down at the little girl.
“Of course it won’t. You have to eat approximately 262 fun sized bars of candy in one sitting for it to have a deadly affect.” This statement earned eye rolls from the ladies and a not so quiet giggle from the little girl as she zipped the candy up in her lunchbox.
“So Skye, what’s your favorite thing to do?” Emily asked, eating the meal she had picked up at the beginning of the break.
“I like drawing!” Skye looked up at Emily, her legs swinging under the table, “And Spencer gets me a lot of coloring books. There are some in my backpack, I can show you!”
By the end of lunch time, each of the women had been assigned a coloring sheet to color. Hotch had reentered the building from his meeting and Spencer pulled Skye back to his desk, worried that Hotch would think she was causing too much trouble. But much to Spencer’s surprise, Hotch walked to his desk with a soft look in his eyes.
“So I hear you’re Miss Skye, is that correct?”
“Yeah, I am!” Skye sat up straight at the mention of her, something Spencer always told her to do to make sure the person knew she was acknowledging them.
“I wanted to say thank you for coming in today and helping my team with their work. You make an excellent helper.” Hotch lifted his palm and smiled as the girl gave him a high five, “Keep up the hard work, Miss Skye. I’m counting on you”
“Yes sir!” Skye saluted Hotch before turning her attention back to Spencer desk where she was helping Mr. Pebbles recite the ABC’s.
Soon the paperwork filled day that everyone had dreaded coming into work for ended, and it went better than any of the team had expected. Skye had the team wrapped around her finger and they all knew it. Spencer walked to the Elevator, hand in hand with Skye who was smiling and waving at the rest of the team.
“She is just too cute” Emily remarked, smiling at Skye who had finished waving and was now talking up a storm with her brother in the elevator.
“She is the most pure thing to ever step foot in this building, if anything happens to her I might literally die. Auntie Garcia can’t have that happen!” Penelope looked around with her eyebrows raised, confirming she was serious. Derek laughed,
“I can’t have that happening either. But don’t worry. Spencer’s been taking good care of her. And now that we know about her, we can help.”
“I know exactly what we’re going to be helping him with.” JJ chortled besides Derek.
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh please, did you see that girl’s hair? Lord knows what he’s doing to try to keep that mane contained.” JJ smiled as the group laughed in agreement.
Back in the elevator Spencer smiled to himself, knowing that this would not be the last time that she gets to visit the team.
#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid#spencer reid headcanons#dating spencer reid#reader x spencer#spencer reid x sister#spencer reid kid imagine#alana and jade imagines#requested
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moonlight i. | jimin
pairing: contemporary dancer!jimin x reader
genre: college au | fluff, angst, mystery
word count: 1.3k
warning/s: future depictions of violence.
summary: As if it’s calling you, you followed the sounds of the luring piano inside the auditorium but what’s more alluring is the boy dancing gracefully on the stage, enthralling everyone who dares to watch but you never knew that such ethereal beauty lies within a sense of mystery.
masterlist
all rights reserved © vantaenims - do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.
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--
It’s now or never.
His mind is wiped from any rationality but was instead flooded with impulsiveness, never once cared or thought about the consequences it might lead to, just the pure thought of ending it was what’s more important.
Helpless is what he is as he watched the mess unfold in front of him, tears streaming down on his face. He woke up from reality upon seeing his friend kneeling down on the floor as he muttered countless apologies like it would make any difference at all.
What can he do when what’s done is already done or perhaps what’s gone is already gone?
Jimin was devoured by his inner demons.
--
The first week of the second half of the first semester is nothing but a bore considering that the preliminary examinations just ended a week ago. Usually, professors would just give out the exam results to review for corrections and dismiss the class early but disappointingly your World Literature professor is not one of those indolent professors.
With the light setting dimmed inside the classroom, you try to keep yourself awake as you listen to the analysis discussion of Albert Camus’ Sisyphus.
You write your name repeatedly on your notebook until you noticed the red string bracelet you’ve been wearing since last night when you found it on the computer desk’s bookshelf while you we’re studying.
You wore it after asking Jungkook – your roommate – if he owns it, he told you that he doesn’t own such an accessory thus the reason you kept it as yours. Grazing your fingers over the braided knots in the middle, you find it elegant even though it’s just a simple red thread.
“Since we’ll be covering a lot of topics, I’ve decided that it’d be best to assign every one of you a narrative” your professor said as he took out a mini fishbowl filled with rolled papers.
“Take one and pass it around” he gave the bowl to the student in the first row. You got one for yourself and pass the bowl, unrolling it you read the scribbled words – Clair de Lune by Paul Verlaine.
“Okay, now that you’ve all picked a narrative” you glanced up to look at your professor, “I want you to make a report about it, I’ll be posting on the portal what should be the contents and when you’ll be assigned to do the presentation”
Alright, you take back what you said that your world literature professor is not one of those indolent professors. As expected, she assigned you to do the reporting so she could sit back and just listen; pass your job to the students.
The class was dismissed, meaning your class is done for the day. You stood in the hallway as you wait for Areum & Daeun to go out of the room. You met them at the start of the school year and they’re literature majors as well who you’ve gotten the chance to be much closer to them attending a university wide welcome party for freshmans.
“What did you get?” Areum asked you.
“Claire de Lune by Paul Verlaine and you?”
“It’s something about rose…” she retrieved the piece of paper from her jacket, “Ah it’s A Rose for Emily by William Faulkner.”
“Where do you guys want to eat?” Eunha said as she got out of the classroom. You go down the stairs as you were all suggesting where until you decided to eat at a Café, saying that you should treat yourself after a week of examinations.
But then your phone buzzed, it’s a message from Daeun. She’s a junior student and the Vice President for Internal Affairs of the Literature Department’s organization.
[Mon, Oct 11, 6:07 PM]
Daeun: Y/N Can I call you? It’s important
Before you were even given the chance to reply to her text, your phone went off as you swiped it to answer.
“Hi Y/N! I’m sorry it’s such a late notice but could you do me a favor?”
“Yeah, sure, about what?” you said as you momentarily slowed down your pace.
“Could you please ask them to sign our request letter for equipment to the Facilities Management Office?”
“I thought you passed it yesterday?” you questioned, you remembered when she dismissed you the moment you asked her if she needs any help in preparing for the General Assembly of your department, you are her Junior Executive after all but instead she told you that she’ll let you know right away if ever she needs one.
“I’m sorry, I forgot to ask them to sign our receiving copy because I left it in the organization room” she apologetically said.
“Sure, I’ll drop by the office. It’s in the Fine Arts Building right?”
“Yeah, it’s right beside the auditorium” she informed you, “Again, I’m really sorry for bothering you. Thank you so much Y/N!”
You laughed as you quickly dismissed her, saying that it’s your duty to assist and help her anyway. Daeun was really nothing but sweet to you, glad that she’s far from those snobby and bossy student councils you expected.
You ran up to Areum and Eunha after you ended the call, stopping them to say that you’ll need to pass a requirement in the office, “We can go with you if you want” Eunha said.
“No, it’s okay I’ll catch after you if I can. I’ll text you?” you bid them goodbye as they told you to meet them at the café if you’ll be able to finish earlier.
As soon as you enter the organization room, you saw the other junior executives preparing the props needed for the program that’ll be set few weeks from now. Daeun proposed this program because she sees this as a perfect opportunity for all the literature students to bond and at the same time to appreciate their major by performing skits.
You excused yourself as you get the paper in the table, quickly greeting them encouraging words before you went out to go to the Fine Arts Building which is approximately 10 minutes away from your building.
Upon entering the building, you were elated to see that they have elevator services not unlike in your building but as you were about to go inside, you were barred from entering by the lady operating it, saying how the school staff are the only ones allowed to use it. Great. You grunted as soon as the doors closed and proceeded to use the stairs instead.
You were gasping for air by the time you got at the sixth floor, as if walking here in this building isn’t tiring enough. You pushed the door of the office but it did not budge, looking up to see that the lights are off. It���s already closed as it says on the door that it’s office hours is from 9 A.M. to 6 P.M.
“Really?” you whispered in annoyance, looking at your watch to see that it has only been twenty minutes since closing time.
Instead, you placed both of your hands on the railings of the wide vast balcony hallway of the building that overlooks the field as you observe the sunset view for a while to rest before you go down the stairs. It irks you a bit how you went all the way here for nothing but the scenic view could suffice, you get your phone to update Daeun.
[Mon, Oct 10, 6:20 PM]
You: The office is closed.
You: It’s only open up to 6 PM
Daeun: Omg I’m so sorry Y/N I thought it was open ‘til 7. You can leave it in the organization room, I’ll pass it tomorrow.
You: I’ll come back here tomorrow
You: My class ends at 5:45 every Tuesday so don’t sweat it!
Placing the phone back on your pocket, you walk towards the hallway but immediately stopped when you suddenly heard a music playing coming from the auditorium just when you were about to leave. A sound of piano to be specific.
You thought that maybe it’s one of the staff from the facilities office, possibly checking the sound system. You let out a relieved sigh, maybe you’ll be able to sign the papers tonight but you didn’t expect to see such view when you opened the doors of the auditorium.
--
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A/N: This is too short for a chapter but anyways it’s more of an introduction to the whole series. This is my first fic series so please bear with me 🥺 If you want to be tagged, don’t hesitate to reply or drop by my asks. Hope you’ll like this!
#jimin imagine#jimin fluff#jimin angst#jimin mystery#park jimin#bts au#bts imagine#bts fluff#bts angst#bts mystery#bts#jimin scenarios#park jimin scenarios#bts scenario#jimin x reader#bts x reader#jimin series#bts series#jimin college au#bts college au#jimin fanfic#park jimin fanfic#jimin fic#bts fanfic#jungkook#bangtanscenery#vantaenims
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The dEtEcTiVe and the vAmPiRe || Agatha and Miriam
TIMING: Current
LOCATION: Flemming’s Leather
PARTIES: @detective-keen & @meflemming
SUMMARY: Miriam’s store gets robbed. Agatha’s on the case.
The store had been broken into. The store had been broken into, and Miriam was seething. No one, not once, had ever broken into her family's store in all their years of owning it. Yet she comes back from the dead for only a few months, and a break in happens. She arrived at the store a little before daw, planning on spending her day inside to do paperwork, when she found the door cracked open. The cash register had been broken into, but, more importantly, some of the handcrafted pieces that she’d made were stolen. Miriam spent hours at least once a month counting her inventory and keeping track of prices. She knew each piece that had been stolen as well as its value. Which is why she called the police department immediately, requesting an officer on the scene to take her statement and begin hunting down the criminal that had stolen from her to the fullest extent of the law. She leaned against the cashier’s counter, angling herself away from the rising sun as she waited. The bell on the door rang, and her head shot up. “I do hope you’re an officer?” she asked, quinting towards the door.
“Mrs. Flemming?” Agatha gestured at a policeman to get closer and have a look at the inside of the store while she spoke to the owner. “I’m Detective Keen,” she took out a notepad from her jacket and flipped it open. Had she spent hours and hours practicing that move ever since she was a child ? You bet she did. Was it worth it ? You bet it was. Her eyes wandered toward the busted register. She had taken notes of the state of the front door as she got in, and the more she looked around, the more she saw the damage inflicted to this shop owner’s finances. “If you have any sort of surveillance footage, we’re going to have to have a look at it,” otherwise, the bank on the other side of the street had an ATM that might have caught something. There were ways to get an idea of who was responsible for this. “Can you give me a rough idea of when this could have happened?” She looked up from her notes and paused, to have a look at her face. “Would you like to discuss it elsewhere?”
“It’s Miss, actually,” Miriam said, her smile a bit tight. “I haven’t been Mrs for quite some time.” She looked the young woman, Detective Keen, over. She was young. It was hard for Miriam to believe that she was a detective, being someone so young, but she’d take what she was given. “Thank you for coming out, Detective, especially at such an,” she looked outside at the sun barely coming up, “early hour.” She looked around the store, the damages, the loss of property. She was furious. She hoped they found the bastard that had the audacity to rob from her, and soon. She had some words for them, among other things. “Surveillance?” Miriam pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’ve been meaning to get something installed but haven’t gotten around to it. One doesn’t expect this kind of thing to happen in such a small town.” She sighed. The sun was steadily rising. “We can go back to my office.” She started walking down the hallway, assuming the detective would follow. “It would have had to happen between midnight and 5:30 this morning. Probably earlier than that.”
If Agatha’s eyebrow raised, she did not say a thing. One of the reasons why she called women Mrs was because she did not like how they made a difference for them depending on their marital status, when the same could not be said about men. It felt archaic, and she did not care for this. She unbuttoned her blazer and started pacing around the shop, having a look at the mess the thieves had made. “There’s nothing more cowardly and lazy than theft,” she commented. She was mostly speaking to herself, as she doubted anyone cared about her stream of consciousness. She hated this. B&E was terrible, because it left people living in fear for a long, long time. Fear that it will happen again, fear that they won’t be safe anywhere. “I’m sorry that you have to go through this,” the detective turned on her heels to face Ms.Flemming. The look in her eyes had not soften. She had not come here to make friends, after all. Still, you could see that her apology was genuine. Following the woman behind, she took a seat in her office, glancing around the room. It was nicely decorated, and it certainly looked more tidy and comfortable than hers. “I’ll get the surveillance footage from the street. The cameras out there might have caught something,” she explained, writing down the approximate time given to her. “That’s actually quite precise. It will save us a lot of time, thank you,” she couldn’t help but think that this was quite a short time for someone to leave and come back to work. The woman must have been quite hardworking. “Everything here is handmade?”
Allowing the woman to look around the room, Miriam herself took it in, wondering if her superior vision could pick out something that the detective might have missed. She’d already scanned the place over first, but the thief had left nothing around the shop that could help with identification. Just a mess and a distinct lack in some of her more expensive merchandise. “Thank you, Detective.” Though it didn’t do anything to help the situation, Miriam could, at least, appreciate the detective’s apology. She sat at her desk chair, drumming her fingers against her knee. The surveillance would help, certainly. She wondered if she could convince someone from the bank to give her the information. Part of her wanted to take matters into her own hands. She could. She should. Revenge was kind of what she lived for. “I like to come by the shop sometimes at night, even when I’m not working, just to check on things.” She was out and about anyway. “All handmade, yes. Mostly by myself and two other employees, though I also sell products from other crafters. My family kept up a lot of contacts. But I have a hand in most of what’s been stolen. I should be able to get you a comprehensible list soon, should you need it.” Or even if she didn’t.
“This place is your baby,” Agatha absentmindedly said, sitting done on the other side of the desk. Her elbows on her thighs, she wrote done a few things in her notebook again, mentioning among other things, that Ms.Flemming spent a lot of time here. Clearly whoever had broken in here had been watching her for a while. Fucking creep, she thought to herself. She decided not to tell her that. Clearly, if whoever had done this wanted to hurt Miriam, they wouldn’t have picked a time where she was absent. “Have you noticed anything lately? Seeing the same person in the street quite often?” Hard to notice, but she couldn’t leave this question unanswered. “I will obviously need the name of your employees, but if there are perhaps people you know that might want to harm your business, I will need their names too,” she nodded, “I will need that list. You will have to contact your insurance company, you can copy me on this email, I’ll be able to confirm the robbery directly.” She sat up, and looked Miriam in the eyes. She could not quite get a read of her, and that bugged him more than she let show. “Since when have you been owning this shop?”
“It is,” Miriam said quietly. She put almost all of her time and effort and energy into this store. That and hunting was what kept her going. The store was a service to people that they could see and appreciate. She made art. She made things she could be proud of. She tried to think back to her week, to anyone being overly suspicious around her store, but she was drawing a blank. She couldn’t be on the main floor all day, and when she came by to check on the place at night, she hadn’t noticed anyone. “I haven’t noticed anything,” she said, feeling frustrated, “and I tend to be quite aware of my environment.” Came with being a hunter (a predator, really) she supposed. “I would have noticed someone if they’d attempted to stalk my business with me around.” She sighed, running a hand over her eyes. God, she felt tired. She wished she could sleep, really sleep, like a normal person. Instead, she jotted down a list of her employees, only six names total. “I have three clerks, two other leatherworkers besides myself, and my assistant, Elle.” There were plenty of people that wanted to harm her, the witch hunter. They wouldn’t target her business, though. At least, she didn’t think so. She handed the list over. “As soon as she gets in contact with the insurance company, I’ll make sure she gets you the information you need. I’m terrible with computers, I fear.” In fact, most of what the detective said about email went right over her head. She leaned back in her chair, her hands folded in her lap. This was a story she knew. “It’s been in my family for as long as I can remember. My cousins owned it before me. They had a tragedy in the family about thirty years ago, never really recovered. It’s always been a dream of mine to own the place and, well, here we are.”
I tend to be quite aware of my environment. Agatha wouldn’t have been able to tell why, but those words sent a shiver down her spine. Maybe it was how Ms.Flemming had enunciated them, but she found it quite a weird thing to say for a shop owner who sold jackets and shoes. She tried not to show it, and cleared her throat. Her pen still in hand, she wrote down the number of her employees, and took the list handed to her with a polite smile. Another thing bothered him. That woman looked about the same age as Agatha, she must have grown up around computers, just like herself, and yet, she claimed to be so bad with computers, she could not send an email. Now Agatha, she knew people bad with computers, but they were her mother’s age. In fact, she had to do most of her paperwork these days, as everything was informatized. And so, she wondered why the hell someone like Miriam could not just do it herself. It took her a lot not to comment on it, but she managed. Instead, she listened to the shop owner as she went on, explaining that this was a family business, and that her family had gone through a tragedy. Obviously, this couldn’t have been the woman’s plan, but stories like that could only remind Agatha of her own family, and her father’s tragic death. “You should always try to pursue your dreams, no matter what hardships are on your path,” she commented with a sigh. It seemed like she would not learn a lot more here. “I’ll see what they found,” she stood up from her chair and put away her notepad. “Maybe you could go for a walk, it’s such a nice day today,” she offered, referring to the fantastic sunny day they had been blessed with.
As the detective wrote everything down, Miriam watched the other woman. She was about the age Miriam had been when she was turned, though it was hard for Miriam to tell. She’d never been good with ages. For all she knew, the detective could be years older or years younger, though she had a sort of youthfulness to her that Miriam hadn’t recognized in herself in a very long time. Far before she was turned, maybe even before she married. Miriam could not remember the last time she felt young. “I agree completely,” she told the detective. “Dreams are meant to be followed.” She believed that wholeheartedly. And owning the leather shop had always been her dream, though perhaps the company had been forced upon her when she was little. It became her dream, and she’d grown to love it more than anything else in the world. Miriam stood up along with the detective, giving her a bright smile. “Thank you so much for all of your help, and do keep me updated on what you find.” She walked Detective Keen as far as the main floor to the shop, but stayed in the hallway to the back rooms, avoiding the sunlight. “I’d love nothing more than to take a walk, but, unfortunately, I told my assistant I’d wait her in my office once you all were finished. My work doesn’t stop, I’m afraid, even for crime.”
“Mmm,” she hummed in response. It was not often that you saw people so passionate about their jobs. Some didn’t get to pick, and some others picked it for the money. “Thank you for your time and your answers,” she replied, courteous but curt. If she had not expected that the woman would stop in her tracks, she expected her to stay in here instead of enjoying the sun. Agatha would have never said this to her face, but this woman looked as if she did not see much of the sun, although, considering how good her skin looked, she could not blame her for that. Damn porcelain. However, the detective wondered why she couldn’t at least go get some fresh air, change her mind, instead of staying stuck in her office to work. Clearly she could have used a break. Agatha held back her frown, and instead smiled at Miriam. “Then I suppose I’ll see you in a few.” And with those words, she walked away from the woman, and up to the officer in charge of evidence, who looked as if he was almost done.
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⟨ SON CHAEYOUNG. CIS FEMALE. SHE/HER. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, CHARLOTTE TAM is actually a descendent of H E P H A E S T U S it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY TWO year old CIVIL ENGINEERING/BUSINESS MAJOR from SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite PRECISE & TENSE.
heyheyhey girls gays & they’s. my og’s remember charlotte and how deeply i love her also the looming promise that i’d bring her back. and here are we so ✌️ if any of you don’t know, i’m dakota, i’m nineteen (19), i live in cst, and i’m a part time barista along with a full time political science major. i’ll have some vague wanted connections at the bottom of this but my dm’s are always open both on here and on discord @ wet ass politics#6969
trigger warnings: death
full name & nicknames :
charlotte chunhwa tam / lottie & lola
major :
civil engineering & business
sexuality :
lesbian
gender idenitity / pronouns :
cis - female / she/her
age / birthday :
twenty - three, december tenth, nineteen - ninety - eight
zodiac :
sagittarius
personality :
charlotte is known to find literal scraps of anything and manage to make something gorgeous from it - whether it’s food, metal scraps, or a nearly - ruined picnic table - it’s a skill that she takes great pride in. she constantly tries to bring her loved ones together in one form or another, which results in quite a lot of last - minute plans and “family dinners.” because of these two traits, if someone just happened to forget to plan a birthday party or a baby shower and needed it thrown together within a day or two (maybe that is on her bucket list, maybe not,) charlotte is your perfect person. regardless of this, charlotte is still considered that friend that never has their life together and has an extensional crises every few weeks. family wise, their relationship with their siblings is something that they take very seriously. even the ones that give her stress acne are still very much able to feel the affection and love she’s has for her family. she constantly checks in on all of her siblings and regularly makes an effort to be as involved in their lives as possible.
when it comes to school work, charlotte is perfectly organized. a well - planned and well - filled out academic calendar is always in her backpack and she has a few dozen notifications on both her phone and her laptop to remind her of class assignments. she is well - known at the tutoring center for her near constant sessions to ensure to that she is totally, a hundred percent getting the assignment. her math classes is where she thrives, and she has a record of taking several math classes during the summertime to further her knowledge. charlotte’s known for the immense pride that she takes in her work along with the very long academia career that they wish to have.
myers - briggs, vice, & virtue :
entp, temperance, & distrusting
hobbies :
welding, drawing, sculpting/general crafting, trivia games, meditation, going into nature & finding animals,
powers :
sensing faults in metal ores, technokenesis, and pyrokinesis. charlotte considers her technokenesis powers to be the stronger of her abilities now that she’s taken the time to work on it since her break. she uses it to help both students and professors on campus deal with their I.T issues and to make small devices to help her friends in their way to help with their daily life. she plans to use her sensing abilities to help with her career choice later on in life, so she continues to work on improving them to help later on. with honesty, she doesn’t use pyrokinesis beyond helping her forge things or as a cute party trick. they have very few plans to ever venture beyond the walls of a protected area ever again so her ability to control whatever flames she makes under pressure is virtually nonexistent.
backstory :
tam chaewon, aged thirty, had just finished her blacksmith apprenticeship abroad in the netherlands when she decides to go to a bar to celebrate with some friends before trying to find a job when she’s approached by a man claiming to overhear her accomplishment. eager to talk about her future, the two of them end up talking for three hours about it along with the various paths open for her to take. maybe it’s the willingness to sit and listen to her or maybe it’s the legitimacy in his interest that drew her in, but the two ended up spending the night together; they spend only two days together before he leaves with an address for chaewon to write to him if it’s needed. and she does, approximately two months later when she learns she’s pregnant with a baby girl. he writes back nothing but an apology, money to help with the expenses, along with a separate letter to give to the child when she turned ten.
(trigger warning in the paragraph: death specifically during child birth.) fast forward through a tornado of eight months and chaewon is visiting her parents when charlotte was born prematurely in seoul, south korea in chaewon’s childhood bathroom. there’s a complication with both chaewon and charlotte shortly the birth and the paramedics sped through the streets to pick up the two, doing their best to keep the two of them alive during the ride. the woman’s family races behind them in the family car, barely able to find the room the two are in to see the nurses rush ahead of them. (no one can tell charlotte what the complication is, but her mom stays alive for an gruesome day and a half, straddling the border between life and death. she’s declared dead on december eleventh at 12:18 pm, 1998.) legend has it that silence ran through the waiting room that the family was in, an unearthly wail leaving charlotte’s grandmother as she realizes what she had to pay to receive her granddaughter. no one wants to touch the child, let alone raise her. their family is faced with a choice when they’re handed the death certificate of their daughter, the birth certificate of their granddaughter, and their granddaughter herself.
her uncle is the one that ends up taking her in that day. the oldest sibling to her mother by six years, he had been an entrepreneur bachelor his entire life up until that point. so it’s whiplash, to say the least, to completely upheave his life in seoul and move to the small town of parga, greece to raise charlotte. the transition period between being a bachelor to a single father is hard, but he does his best to not give up on it. along side the lack of support from his family, it makes it all such a draining process. when she turns six, her uncle hires the first person to help the family: a highly recommended local nanny by the name of phoebe who would stay with the tam family until charlotte turned eighteen. it’s around this time that her uncle begins to drift away more, trying to keep his business on track, but he always comes back with an elaborate apology and an equally elaborate gift for charlotte to make up for the digression.
when she turns twelve, she starts to develop ... slightly unusual powers that always came as a shock but were immediately chalked up to scarily accurate guesses. it’s a fun party trick she uses at classroom gatherings, guessing where faults where in desks, trying to figure out what was wrong with technology, etc. and it didn’t go much beyond that for a very long time. it’s a rainy summer day when her uncle sits her down with a strange man who explains to the both of them that she’s a ... demigod. it takes a whole afternoon to convince charlotte of this fact while her uncle looks at her like a monster. she promptly declines any move to go to a camp (much to her uncle’s dismay) and the next six years of her life is promptly laid out. a life lived in a private plane, tucked away from the world to live out of a few suitcases and bought time from others.
this quiet life sealed away from the outside world leaves her doing whatever she can to keep busy. building whatever she can, trying to stay as occupied as much as she can. it results in a suitcase full of little trinkets by the time she’s six months into home schooling. the next few years of her life pass her by in a terrible haze as she does everything she can to catch up to the life that has been set out for her. her life begins to slow down when she gets into college at the age of nineteen, where she finally finds a safe haven amongst people like her. however, at the beginning of 2020, charlotte finds herself catching deep feelings for one EILILDH GALBRAITH. a fiery, vibrant, and resistant spirit immediately draws charlotte into deep feelings for her. the relationship happens for several months before the relationship comes to an abrupt halt in the end of october. unable to come to terms with her first major breakup, charlotte cites a personal, family matter to switch to online classes before coming back to in person at the end of finals shortly before the evacuation.
wanted connections :
DREAMLAND / a v simple plot with room for extreme nuance! someone that charlotte can help bounce ideas off of and vise versa. enable each other’s terrible ideas but do it with much love and a camera on hand at all times. ( 0/2 spots taken )
HIT DIFFERENT / some type of fun flirtatious relationship. maybe they’re just friends, maybe they’re party buddies (for the rare parties that she goes to,) or maybe they just happen to keep meeting. hopefully it’s very relaxed on both ends. ( 0/1 spots taken, must be afab )
ALWAYS GOLDEN / best friends, ride or die type shit. can we get some friend group for it tho because i always love a good group dynamic ( 0/5 spots taken )
I DIDN’T FALL / some kind of missed love, like those missed connections on craiglist. maybe the two of them grew close during charlotte’s time away from university or maybe they almost dated before charlotte was out, either way there’s still some mixed feelings of resentment for not making a move, the deathly “what if’s?”, and mayhaps some feelings that still linger. ( 0/1 spots taken, must be afab )
SPORTS / someone who helped navigate charlotte through her own experience of coming out and how that fits into her cultural identity along and her career field. i have a decent idea of her coming out process but i’m definitely flexible with it ( 0/1 spots taken )
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Catch Me If You Can (23/?)
298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.
But then he came back and won the World Series.
It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.
Asking her out live on-air will do that.
Rating: Mature
a/n: I wrote this entire story in some kind of pregnancy-fueled Mexican-food-craving haze, and I didn’t realize just how much time was between some certain big plot points until I was proof-reading this. That said, I’m not changing any of that and am literally impatient to share all of the upcoming chapters with you wonderful people! @resident-of-storybrooke has assured me that they’re actually good. lol. Not entirely sure that I trust her 😉
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-/-
I need your post-series comparison report by nine this morning.
You were late with it last time, and that made me late with my report. This is why you should probably stick to on-air reporting instead of continuing to write articles when we have people for that.
W.O.
“Asshole,” Emma mutters to herself after reading that blatantly condescending email from Walsh.
She’s been in the office for approximately fifteen minutes, most likely a little less than that, and the first thing that Emma saw after logging into her computer was an email from Walsh about her report on the difference between playing at home and away, specifically when it comes to playing the Red Sox. Two weeks ago, the Yankees lost every single game they played in Boston, especially that epic game where they lost 3-17 the night Killian was the starting pitcher, and then over the last four days, they’ve won every game while in New York.
Home team advantage taking on a whole new meaning because it is seriously in play this year.
And Emma doesn’t want to get too excited, doesn’t want to get too ahead of herself because anything can happen for the rest of the season, but only a month and a half of the regular season is left and there’s no way the Yankees aren’t making the playoffs. Once they get there, who knows if they’ll make it to the Series?
There’s a chance, though, and that’s all that matters.
As a fan, she’s excited. As Killian’s girlfriend and a reporter for the team, she’s over the freaking moon. It would be insane for them to back it up, but she’s got to slow her roll.
Slow her roll and send Walsh this report so that she doesn’t have to deal with him anymore today. Working with her ex is fine since it’s not an everyday thing, only an office day thing, but the man has got to get the stick out of his ass. He cheated on her, belittled her out of jealousy for her success in her job, and yet he acts like it’s an inconvenience for them to have to spend a miniscule amount of time together. He’s probably sitting at his desk thinking of ways to torture her while drinking a giant bottle of Mountain Dew. She always hated that he did that. He could have at least had the diet version instead of consuming all of that extra sugar.
But whatever. It doesn’t matter. None of it does.
Ruth: Do you think you’d like to come to Portland in October? Or maybe sometime before Thanksgiving? I was thinking you could bring your boyfriend so that I can meet him.
Emma reads the text, but she doesn’t answer it quite yet. She needs time to look at her calendar and have time to ask Killian if he wants to go. Hell, she needs time to figure out if that’s what she even wants because, wow, bringing a boyfriend home is not something she’s ever done. Neal literally never wanted to come home with her, never wanted to go to David’s, never wanted to do anything that wasn’t in his control, and Walsh was just…
Shit. She needs to email him now and stop letting her mind go down this path.
Today is a good day. Nothing is going to ruin it. If she repeats that enough times it’s sure to come true.
“Oh my God,” Ruby groans as she steps into Emma’s office, barely able to squeeze in past the chair that’s keeping the door open before sitting in it, “I am ready for this season to be over. Why is it always so jam-packed? Do people really need to watch this much baseball? There are so many damn games.”
“Nope. They really don’t.”
“I feel like you should not be able to say that because of your job and the fact that your boyfriend is a freaking baseball player.”
“Rubes,” Emma hisses, twisting in her chair and looking out the small glass window in her office, “shut up.”
Ruby’s eyes widen, her hands immediately going to cover her mouth, and that might be the fastest Ruby has ever stopped talking in the entirety of her life.
“Sorry, sorry,” she apologizes before getting up from the chair and moving it so that she can shut the door behind her. Damn this small office. “I didn’t even think about it.”
“It’s fine. It’s not like you have a giant poster saying that I’m dating him. There are just a lot of people constantly walking by this door, so we can’t really talk about it with the door open.”
“My lips are sealed. Also, are you ever going to get a bigger office?”
“I don’t even know why I have an office. Like, honestly. I keep waiting for them to realize that I don’t need it and to give it away to someone who works here more than once a week. Then I could do all of this stuff from home.”
“That is the life. Though, I think you would probably never put on real pants again.”
“Yoga pants are real pants, and that’s a hill I’m willing to die on.”
“Whatever,” Ruby yawns, covering her mouth with her hands. “I’m ready to go home already. Do you think we have time to go home before the game?”
“Considering we have to get out to the stadium in less than an hour and I still have to finish this report for Walsh, I’m thinking not.”
“Ugh,” Ruby groans, propping her feet up against the walls like she owns the place, “why does he continue to exist? Can’t he go work in another department or something?”
“I imagine,” Emma sighs, twisting back in her chair to actually get work done on the report, “that he stays simply to annoy me, but I tend not to think about him too much.”
“Yeah, well, that’s because you’re getting fucked much better now.”
Emma huffs. “Why are you the way that you are?”
“You know, I think it comes from being raised by my grandmother instead of my mother, and I –”
“Rhetorical question,” Emma hums, pulling up her file with her notes from the last few games up so that she can fill the last bit of information in while they talk. “So, Ruth has asked me if I want to bring Killian to Portland.”
“I thought you just said that we couldn’t say his name.”
“We can’t yell it with the door open. We can say it quietly in here.”
“Gotcha, gotcha,” Ruby sighs as Emma keeps working. “How do you feel about the boyfriend going home to meet Ruth? That’s kind of a big step. I mean, he’s already met David and Mary Margaret, but that’s different. They’re more like friends than anything else.”
“Yeah, I’m aware of that.”
“This is, like, ‘I see a future with you and want everyone I love to love you’ kind of stuff.”
“Are you trying to freak me out?”
“Only a little. I could have brought up marriage and babies, but I figured that would have you jumping through the ceiling to escape the conversation.”
Emma’s heart kind of feels like it’s going to jump through the ceiling of this conversation. Why did she even bring this up? Probably because she does actually want to talk about it, and Ruby will be the most honest with her because she doesn’t seem to have any kind of filter in that wonderful brain of hers.
‘Yeah, let’s avoid the marriage and babies stuff.”
“Okay, so barring those things,” Ruby sighs, getting up from the chair to perch herself on the edge of Emma’s desk so Emma can actually see her while talking, “how do you feel about this? I know you love Killian because you guys are ridiculously adorable together, which makes me happy for you even if I sometimes find it disgusting, but I also know that you like to freak out about relationship stuff.”
“I’m…” Emma rolls back in her chair and tilts her head up to look at Ruby while she tugs her bottom lip with her teeth. “I don’t think it’s that big of a deal, really, because Killian has met everyone else and we do travel pretty often together. But that’s for work, you know? This is…this is moving forward in a way.”
“That’s a good thing, hon. People in good relationships move forward. Graham and I dated for awhile, then moved in together, even if you do live with us because rent is ridiculous, and then one day we’re going to get married. When you love someonesomeone,who is good to you, that’s what you do, even if every relationship roadmap is different with different destinations. It’s scary as hell, but sometimes you’ve got to do scary shit.”
Sometimes you’ve got to do scary shit.
“You sounded really philosophical until you got to the end there.”
“Eh,” she scoffs, flipping her hair over her shoulders, “I think all great philosophers should talk like me. It’s real. Good advice doesn’t have to be poetic. It’s just got to be good.”
Emma hums in response, crossing her legs over each other and readjusting her position while she thinks over everything that Ruby has just said. “So, you think I should talk to Killian about it and then text Ruth back?”
“That’s exactly what you should do. And then you should finish this damn report, send it to your asshole ex with a picture of a middle finger attached, and then we should get something to eat on the way to the stadium.”
-/-
The Yankees win an easy game against the Orioles that afternoon, as they usually do, and it’s a smooth day at the office for all involved. Killian is particularly cheeky in his post-game interview, he and Will bantering off each other, and Emma has to bite her tongue to keep herself from telling Killian that she loves him live on-air.
Talk about a disaster waiting to happen there.
-/-
“Darling, can you get me a napkin?”
“Get it yourself, Jones.”
“Emma is literally standing in the kitchen.”
“You are a big boy. You can get your napkin yourself.”
“You just asked her to bring you a glass of water.”
“That is different.”
Emma rolls her eyes at Ruby and Killian bickering with each other. It’s honestly how they talk. Emma doesn’t think that they’re capable of speaking in normal terms, and as obnoxious as it can be, it’s kind of hilarious. Those two are pretty much a friendship made in heaven because of their wit and ability to make anything a dirty joke, but it results in a hell of a lot of bantering.
Or bickering.
Emma’s not sure which one, but if the look on Graham’s face is any indication, it’s a combination of both.
“We’re going to have to stop allowing them to spend time with each other, aren’t we?” Graham asks as he reaches over her to grab a napkin that the restaurant provided them with when they ordered take-out. “I think they might kill each other.”
“Eh, it might just be the natural progression of things.”
“True. Might as well just let it happen.”
“I can hear the two of you,” Ruby huffs, leaning over from the couch so that she can get a handful of chips out of the bowl before standing and walking to the kitchen, “and it’s totally not cool that you’d just let the two of us die. You are supposed to love us.”
“To be fair, I just met Killian, so I’m not sure that we love each other quite yet,” Graham teases.
Killian winks, the biggest smirk stretching across his lips, and it makes Emma’s stomach flutter. “Give it time. I’m irresistible. Ask Emma.”
“He’s not,” Emma sighs, taking the napkins out of Graham’s hands and walking them the few feet over to Killian before sitting down next to him on the couch, plucking a chip from his plate instead of the bowl. “He pretty much had to beg me to get me to date him.”
“Um, no, you definitely asked me out, Swan.”
“Only because you wouldn’t ask me out.”
“We have talked about this,” Killian breathes, scooping up a forkful of his rice. “And besides, it’s a moot point now.”
“Maybe. Are you going to eat the rest of your queso?”
Killian hands her his bowl in answer. Him watching his eating habits more carefully is quite possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to her even if she has to cut down on the pop-tarts in the morning. That’s probably for the best. She’d rather waste her calories on things like queso and grilled cheese. Killian has learned to make a really good grilled cheese sandwich, and that may be the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for her.
Obviously she has some really high (low) standards, but it’s the little things.
Cheese is the way to a woman’s heart. At least to hers. There are some crazy people out there who don’t like cheese.
Crazy.
“Why didn’t we get margaritas with our food again?” Ruby asks as she and Graham both settle back into the living room. They barely have enough room for the three people who live here, let alone four. “I really want a margarita.”
“We’ve got an eleven o’clock game tomorrow.”
“You two do. I don’t.”
Emma reaches to the side to slap Killian’s shoulder, nearly spilling her queso dip, and what a tragedy that would be. “You have training.”
“Not at eleven in the morning.”
“Poor people having to wake up and be at work before nine in the morning to start work at eleven. However do all of you live?”
Everyone’s eyes move toward Graham, evil stares likely there, and instead of backing away, he shrugs his shoulders and takes a bite of his taco, completely unbothered.
“Shut up and eat your tacos, babe.”
He holds up the taco he just took a bite out of. “Don’t mind if I do.”
Killian chuckles beside her, lifting his arm over Emma’s shoulder so that she can lean into him and into his warmth. “And you say Ruby and I bicker.”
“I’m starting to think maybe it’s Ruby that’s the problem.”
“I,” Ruby scoffs, reaching forward to grab the remote to turn the TV on, “am picking the movie we watch tonight because all of you are assholes, and I deserve this.”
They watch Pride and Prejudice because it’s the first thing Ruby finds on TV, something that Emma definitely isn’t going to complain about. She’s usually not one for period romances, most of them a little too damsel in distress with no backbone for her, but this is one that she can appreciate. Plus, Keira Knightly is pretty much the greatest at being in movies that aren’t modern. The woman wouldn’t know how to act in a movie where cell phones exists.
(Okay, maybe she would, but that’s entirely beside the point.)
Ruby and Graham go to bed before the movie is even over, Ruby falling asleep on the couch with chip crumbs on her shirt, and Graham has to coax her into getting up, telling her that she’s not going to be able to move her neck in the morning if she doesn’t move. Ruby pretty much tells him to fuck off in that charming way that she has, but she does get up, slowly wandering back down the hallway to their bedroom until the door shuts behind her.
She and Killian manage to make it until the end, and even though she’s been up since early this morning and spent so much time outside, Emma’s not tired. She’s not tired as she and Killian move to clean up their food, wrapping up the leftovers and putting them in the fridge, before moving back to her own bedroom so that they can go through their routines to get ready for bed. Emma kind of feels like they’ve been spending most of their nights together even though she knows that it’s not true. It’s been two or three times a week, mostly depending on her schedule or Killian’s game schedule, and it’s not something they ever really plan.
But she likes having him here or likes being over at his place, even though she isn’t the best at sharing the comforter or not sprawling out in the middle of the bed, and it’s a nice thing to get to have someone to spend time with like this.
Today has been a good day.
Killian is in bed before her, the white of her comforter pulled up over his lap to cover his sweatpants, and instead of getting under the covers herself, Emma moves to straddle his lap, placing her knees on either side of his thighs while her hand plays with the chain around his neck, moving the cool metal back and forth in her palm.
Killian arches his right brow at her, that side of his lips tugging up to, and it makes her laugh before she places her hands on his bare shoulders all the while Killian reaches up to tuck her loose strands of hair behind her ear, thumb running across her cheekbone in a gentle motion.
His eyes could not possibly be more blue.
“What is it that you think you’re doing, Swan?”
“What do you mean?”
A low hum comes from Killian as the hand that’s not caressing her cheek moves to her waist, snaking up underneath her t-shirt to rest against the bare skin of her stomach.
“This position isn’t exactly indicative of us going to bed.”
“Is it not?” Emma teases, dipping her head down to press her lips to the tip of his nose. “Because I’m very comfortable right now.”
She does a pointed roll of her hips and revels in the way that Killian’s eyes shut at the movement.
“I think the queso is getting to that head of yours.”
Emma shrugs. “Maybe.”
“Definitely.”
And then Killian is tugging her closer and moving his lips over hers, soft and slow and completely and utterly thorough while his hand tangles into her hair, fingers pulling at the strands, and her hands move from his shoulders to his neck, holding him steady. He tastes like her toothpaste, far too minty, and his skin smells like the soap she keeps next to her sink that definitely should not be used for skincare. It’s weirdly refreshing for him to smell like her things, if not a little overwhelming. Last week she used Killian’s bodywash when she was at his place because she didn’t have any of her own, and while she used to be entirely attracted to the smell, carrying it around on her all day was far too overwhelming.
How do men live smelling that strongly of some kind of Irish spring or mountain brook?
That’s not how either of those things smell either. Or, at least, she thinks.
But that’s entirely beside the point when shivers are spreading across her body at the feeling of Killian’s tongue moving inside her mouth. It’s warm and wet against hers, the feeling that same high that she always seems to be chasing with him, and her fingers inch up his neck to curl into the thick strands of his hair while she groans.
“Bloody hell do I love that sound.”
Heat immediately rises to her cheeks, but it’s also curling between her thighs at the heady sound of Killian’s voice and the demanding pressure of his kiss as his legs shift beneath them to move the two of them until Emma’s back is pressed against the mattress and Killian is hovering over her, his lips trailing across the expanse of skin at her neck that has the simmering heat between them continuing all the while Emma tries to catch her breath.
Every time she thinks she’s got it back, though, Killian nips at her collarbone or nibbles on her ear, and it all evaporates into thin air.
“Oh fuck,” Killian grunts, and Emma takes it as an invitation to trace her nails along his back, pressing her hips up to his to get a little more friction. “No, love, fuck.”
Her eyes snap to him at the more pained exasperation in his voice, and it’s then that Emma realizes that he’s stopped kissing her neck and has his forehead pressed there instead, his body not moving over hers.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“My,” he grits, his voice dark but not in the way that she wants it to be, “leg is fucking cramping.”
Emma doesn’t mean to, not really, but the laugh bubbles from deep within her belly until it’s passing through her lips and she can’t contain herself. It’s not really even funny. Cramps and weird noises and all of that jazz are as normal as can be during sex – don’t even get her started on lock jaw – but it’s usually not when they’ve only been making out for five minutes. This is some kind of new record.
“I’m glad you’re so amused by my pain, love.”
“No, no,” she laughs, wishing that she hadn’t but still not able to stop herself, “I promise you I’m not.”
“Then what the bloody hell are you laughing at?”
“Your pain.”
Killian groans before rolling off of her, the loss of his body heat immediate, and she watches as his arm reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose, his eyes still shut so tightly that those little crinkles have shown up around his skin. It’s adorable even if he’d probably like to chop his leg off right now.
“I hate you.”
“That is entirely untrue,” Emma sighs, leaning down to brush her lips over his cheek before moving across the mattress so that she can grab onto Killian’s leg and rest his calf on her lap, fingers digging into the flesh to start to massage it. “I have it on good authority that you love me in spite of all of the weird things about me like the fact that I laugh at your cramps.”
Killian’s hand moves from his face until his arm is flopping against the mattress in what has to be the most dramatic fashion in the world. “That’s probably the least weird thing about you.”
“Oh yeah? What’s the weirdest?”
Killian props himself up on his elbows, his eyes obviously taking her in as he thinks, and she squeezes his calf a little bit too hard in response. “You put too much creamer in your coffee.”
“That’s a cop out answer.”
“Nope. It’s my honest to God answer, love. That is the weirdest thing about you.”
“The weirdest thing about you is the fact that you organize your t-shirts by year that you got them instead of color or putting your favorites up front.”
“I don’t believe I asked for your opinion on that.”
“No,” Emma shrugs, squeezing his calf where she can see the muscles twitching, “you didn’t, but I thought I’d give you my opinion anyways since you’re not being honest with me about what you find weird about me.”
Killian rolls his eyes before falling back down to the mattress, strands of hair falling over his forehead. “You have too many blankets. It’s not…I mean, you do a million little things that are different or quirky, but I don’t find any of them weird. Not really. But you collect a hell of a lot of blankets. You’ve probably spent thousands of dollars on them. I swear, you’ve brought a different blanket on every road trip we’ve had this year.”
“That is not weird.”
“Neither is my t-shirt thing.”
“Agree to disagree,” she sighs, pulling a pillow behind her back so that she’s not hunching over. “And you have never complained about having use of one of my blankets before.”
“Nor you my t-shirts.”
“This is true.” Emma keeps working at Killian’s calf, feeling the muscled skin under her fingertips, and she figures now might be the time to talk to him about Ruth. It’s not like he can run away. Well, he could, but she could probably run faster than him now. “So, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Killian’s body stiffens. “And you saved it for when I can’t run away?”
Great minds think alike.
“Yes, because I knew you were going to cramp while we were making out.”
She rolls her eyes but still smiles at the way Killian’s forehead is wrinkled with the raise of his brows. His face can hold so many different expressions – from soft to broody and from sexy to amused – and she likes that he often gives away what’s going on in his mind through them, even if he doesn’t always.
“You are evil like that.”
“I know,” Emma shrugs before putting a little more pressure on Killian’s calf so that he groans. Definitely a different groan than what was happening before. “So, Ruth texting me today and asked if when I wanted to come visit. She’s been on me about it for a few months now even with her coming here, but I probably should go home when the season is over. And I was wondering if you wanted to come with me.”
They’re simple words, but the weight behind them makes Emma feel like she’s just been run over by a truck.
She’s absolutely great at being an adult.
The best.
Her heart is probably going to implode.
“Well,” Killian sighs, propping himself up on his elbows again, “I’d have to check my calendar. You know, I am a very popular man, and many women ask me to go home with them to meet their mothers. I have to make sure that I’m not scheduled to do that with someone else.”
“Asshole,” Emma huffs as she slaps Killian’s leg and pushes it off of her lap so that she can get off the bed. “You’re an asshole.”
“I’m feeling a little bit of de ja vu with you calling me that.”
“You deserve it.”
“Hey,” he sighs, stretching across the bed to grab at the bottom of her t-shirt until he pulls her back down onto the bed with him so that she roughly lands on the mattress and against Killian’s knee. It’s not exactly comfortable, but Killian shifts and caresses her cheeks with his hands, pushing her hair back while he looks at her. “I’m kidding. I would love to get to go to Portland with you to meet Ruth. I really do have to check my schedule, especially with how we do in the post-season, but I’m more than happy to go with you and get to hear all kinds of stories about you as a teenager.”
“Yeah, you’re not allowed to ask for any stories when we go.”
“I’m one hundred percent asking for stories.”
“No. You can’t do that because – ”
Killian doesn’t let her finish her protest, pulling her forward to press his lips into hers, a soft yet insistent thing that has her forgetting her argument. He’s good at that. Probably too good, but that’s definitely something she’ll address at another time.
A time when he’s not doing that thing with his tongue and his teeth that she likes so much.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Emma stops, possibly against her better judgement, and Killian pulls back only to bury his face in her shoulder.
“W-what?”
“My leg is cramping.”
Killian groans into her neck before wrapping his arms around Emma’s waist and pulling her down alongside him so that they’re a tangle of limbs that very well may never be unwrapped. She wouldn’t mind that either, not if she can stay in the dim light of her bedroom with Killian holding onto her and looking at her like she put the stars in the sky and tells them to glow every night.
No one has ever looked at her that way before.
Ever.
She’s really damn happy.
“I love you,” Killian breathes out, and her heart metaphorically skips a beat while she reaches for his chain between them so that she can run the metal between her fingers. “More than anything, I think.”
Well damn. Who knew three little words added to those big three words could completely change the meaning of it all? Or, at least, amplify them.
“I love you too, twenty-nine.”
Killian shifts again, pressing his back into her and pulling her closer, as if that was possible, and she can feel the scruff on the underside of his chin pressing into her temple while he intertwines their fingers and moves their joined hands to rest between her breasts.
“I’m serious, Emma. I know…” Killian takes a deep breath, one that she can feel in her own bones, and she has to swallow down the emotion that she feels at just the gravely sound of his voice. “Thank you for trusting me enough to take this shot with me. I haven’t been this happy in a long time, and I kind of thought that I’d reached the pinnacle of happiness last year when we won.”
“I mean, you did win the World Series,” she says, trying to play off some of the emotions she’s feeling. “What could be better than that?”
“Don’t you know, Emma?” Killian speaks into her hair, pressing a kiss there that has her lashes fluttering closed against her cheeks. “It’s you.”
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