Kuroo Tetsurou x female reader
tw: kinda infidelity, implied murder, yandere vibes
"I'm married."
Kuroo flashes the ring as he says it, a not-all-that-apologetic smile on his face. Happily, he doesn't add. He doesn't often need to – most of the women who approach him take the hint and move on, no harm no foul. He can't really blame them for their interest, leaning ever so casually against the bar, his suit expensive, hair an artful mess, Kuroo knows he cuts a handsome figure.
But he has no interest in a quick fuck, nor in anything else the woman before him can offer.
Yet far from being deterred, her red lips curl into a playful smirk. "What she doesn't know won't hurt her," she purrs, and lays a perfectly manicured hand over his arm. "Buy me a drink?"
Kuroo straightens then, lets his eyes roam over her body. Slowly, lazily, drinking down every inch of her. And she is a pretty thing, her form fitting dress leaving little to the imagination. She knows it, too, eyes sparkling as she bats long, dark eyelashes at him.
Another firmer dismissal forms on the tip of his tongue, and yet something holds him back. There's a bad taste in his mouth that's lingered since the morning, the sting of your bitter, acidic words having struck deeper than perhaps you intended.
Maybe he was too hasty with his earlier dismissal; she might just serve a purpose after all.
Kuroo chuckles, swallows the last mouthful of his drink and sets the empty glass down on the counter. Glances at the bartender, "Another, and one of whatever the lady would like."
There's a glint like victory in her face as she says, "Champagne, and make it a bottle."
She makes herself comfortable in his lap, flirting with practiced charm, confident and sultry. Her red tipped fingernails toying with his hair, lightly scratching down the back of his neck as she laughs at his jokes. She'd introduced herself earlier in the night, but Kuroo's already forgotten her name by the time he's hailing down a cab, the two of them bundling inside.
If he were being totally honest, he'd forgotten it the second she'd said it. Names, after all, weren't important here.
"Your wife?" she questions when Kuroo gives the driver his address. Cautious, rather than concerned. He imagines that running into the wife of the man you're trying to fuck probably sucks the fun out of the indiscretion.
He throws her an easy wink, pulling her back onto his lap. "Don't worry about it."
She shrugs, unbothered.
Her lips leave painted smudges over his throat, possessive in a way. Like she's staking her claim over her perceived conquest. "She won't hold a candle to me, baby," she promises, her hand teasingly trailing over the crotch of his pants.
His eyes darken, blood thrumming as he growls, "Don't make promises you can't keep."
She just giggles, tugging him into another heated kiss.
And she barely manages to extricate herself from his side as the two of them make their way into the building, up the elevator.
His apartment's quiet when they stumble inside. She kicks her heels off and attacks his tie, doesn't hear the mechanical clicks of the three locks automatically sliding into place.
Down the hallway, his jacket tossed aside, shirt unbuttoned. And with every step, the feeling of anticipation grows. She's too wrapped up in the zipper of her dress to notice the sounds of life stirring on the other side of his bedroom door, but they're etched into Kuroo. Everything about you is, inextricably.
He wouldn't have it any other way.
He's been waiting for this moment all day, itching and impatient, the sight of you sprawled out atop his bed, waiting for him in the pyjamas he bought you a balm to the day's stresses. You're such a good girl. Even when you're mad at him.
And yet the moment the door swings open, the two of them bursting inside, you startle and flinch– the chain around your ankle clinking noisily at the sudden, jerking movement.
"Tetsu? What– what's going on?" you breathe, eyes warily darting between him and the half dressed woman at his side.
"What the hell?!"
Kuroo smiles – that soft, indulgent expression he saves just for you – seizing her by the arm the second she tries to step back, tightening his grip until she's whimpering, begging.
"Hey, sweetheart. Did you miss me?"
This morning you'd gotten all worked up over some nonsense, silly notions about him 'growing bored' and 'tossing you aside', as if you weren't his soulmate. His one true north.
And he'd laughed and told you how ridiculous you were being – right up to the point where you implied he'd find somebody to replace you.
You're his wife, he won't abide you thinking like that. Not for a fucking second.
You said things you didn't mean, lashing out because you were scared, he knows that. Tried not to take it to heart. You're not afraid that he'll go out seeking someone else, you're afraid that greedy fucking whores are going to sink their claws into him and try to pull him away from you.
They'd sooner have luck drawing blood from stone, but Kuroo's always been one to go above and beyond, especially where you're concerned.
And if it helps put your mind at ease, he's more than happy to prove just how deep his loyalty to you – his absolute devotion – runs. As many times as it takes.
That's love.
With a harsh shove, Kuroo sends the woman sprawling to the floor.
He laughs, "Relax, it's not what you think."
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Chapters: 7/?
Fandom:Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Earthspark (Cartoon)
Rating: Teen
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Breakdown/Knock Out (Transformers), Megatron & Dorothy "Dot" Malto
Characters: Thundercracker (Transformers), Optimus Prime, Megatron (Transformers), Ratchet (Transformers), Twitch (Transformers), Robby Malto (Transformers), Mo Malto (Transformers), Thrash (Transformers), Knock Out (Transformers), Breakdown (Transformers), Bumblebee (Transformers), Starscream (Transformers), Skywarp (Transformers), Dorothy "Dot" Malto
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Sickfic, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Optimus absuses emojis, Canon-typical Violence
Series: Part 3 of IDK My BFF Thundercracker?
Summary: "Distantly, he became aware of a pathetic, whining noise coming from somewhere nearby, and it took longer than it should have for Thundercracker to realize it was coming from him. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t see, and he was having a fragging panic attack. Way to go, TC! That would definitely help the situation!"
AKA what do you do when your friendly neighborhood ex-con gets sick and nobody seems capable of fixing it?
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wherein i just continue to make shit up about seekers and bemoan the fact that i am now out of finished chapters to post willy nilly and must finish WRITING the thing.
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