#leas: city of the sun | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

temozarela · 25 days

Text

-> isn't it good, norwegian wood?

GETO X READER MDNI, slow burn, fluff, angst, smut, angsty geto, comfort, reader is kinda tired, plot

you and geto meet 6 years after his defection

WORD COUNT: 8.6k

TAGS: @sakuichan, @username23345

part 1

ao3 version

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You sat at your desk, staring blankly at the screen of your computer. You were supposed to be completing a report but the sun had long set and your brain refused to cooperate. Down-heartedly, you buried your head in your hands, stifling a yawn. Everything just seemed so… bad. Your hair was greasy, you were beginning to smell yourself through your deodorant and perfume, your coffee was cold, and you were the only person left in the office. Even Nanami had gone home 2 hours prior, leaving you to struggle over your half-finished report. Unfortunately for yourself and your coworkers, there has been an influx of curse users in Japan, meaning that your compulsory hours had been increased. At first you were delighted by the idea of some extra pocket money, but with all of the work you had been doing, there was no time to enjoy it. You knew it was getting worse too, you hadn't seen Gojo in a week and Shoko’s dark circles were deepening with every wave of injured sorcerers that washed up at her office. Of course, the higher-ups weren’t any help, so it had become the norm for you to wake up at 6am and return home at 10pm as you cracked down on the damages that the elders refused to assist with. This had been happening for a few months now, and you were exhausted. If it were any other situation, you’d request time off, but you knew that your coworkers would take on the burden if you didn’t. So there you were, fingers hovering over the keys as you tried to recount your hectic shift. It seemed so cruel, after stepping over so many dead bodies and dodging death countless times yourself, to be forced to relive it so soon. If they wanted to know what was happening, they could see for themselves. In fact, you’d welcome it. Maybe then, they’d dish out the work a bit more ethically.

You blinked slowly, attempting to force a rise of energy inside of you. You didn’t want to fall asleep at work again. Somewhere in the background, rain pattered against the windows. Shit. You reluctantly glanced at your screen, squinting at the brightness in contrast with the dark room. Realistically, you knew that you weren’t going to get anything else done that night, but you also knew that if you didn’t do it then, you would have to do it later. You groaned, wanting to slam your head against your desk more than anything. Tomorrow. You’d do it tomorrow. If you went home then and had a decent sleep, you’d be more motivated tomorrow. That’s what you told yourself. You were more than happy to turn the computer off and pack up your belongings. More and more, you were glad that you commuted by train, because the naps you took then were sacred, driving would’ve pushed you over the edge.

Arriving home looked like throwing your shit on the floor and staring blankly at the fridge, realising you were supposed to shop for groceries that day. Tomorrow you were headed into the countryside to check out suspicious activity, there was no way you’d be able to get your shopping done then. Usually you did city missions, but you were covering for the students. God knows they were doing too much as well. You sighed. There were enough ingredients for you to cook a meal, but you were so tired right now… you could go without… just for one night. Some nights you didn’t even change out of your clothes and you had given up on makeup a while back. At this point, your home felt like it was only your bed. Your TV, speakers, sofas, and books had gone untouched for so long, you’d be surprised if they weren’t blanketed with dust by now. You showered, of course, but it seemed like a mere blink before your body hit your bed. Sleep didn’t rest you anymore, but it was some sort of break in the chaos of your life. At the very least, you were happy to have that.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The commute into rural Japan was pleasantly silent. It relaxed you to watch the swaying meadows roll past, the white splodges of sheep like a stroke of oil paint as the train hurtled past. You vaguely registered one or two others on the other side of the carriage, you remembered the monk especially. To your knowledge, it was your first time seeing a monk in public. Initially, the journey had been like any other: salesmen upon salesmen, and then a few. Each figure amongst the shuffling mass clad in a suit and tie, dark hair brushed back, and mouths set in a practised line between grey, hollow cheeks as they scrutinised each other through their furrowed eyebrows like some sort of Kubrick character. As the familiar robotic voice announced the train’s arrival at the city-centre, an encore of clicking shoes and soft whines of swinging briefcases played in a harsh crescendo, the piece hitting its chorus as the doors opened, and the salesmen poured out like river water through a broken dam. After that, it was quiet. On a weekday morning, not many were heading into the middle of nowhere, but it made sense to you that a monk might. The other man looked like a foreigner, so that wasn’t widely suspicious to you either, though you might have considered it further had you slept more the previous night. After an hour or so, your eyelids fluttered shut and you began to drift in and out of sleep, the beginnings of gentle conversation between the few other passengers barely registered by you, their low voices becoming incomprehensible as they were drowned out by the ambience of the train. Perhaps, if you had been more alert, you would have noticed that they were heading to the location of the investigation. Maybe, if you had realised that, you would have listened closer and overheard the utterance of a very familiar name. However, the world around you was in limbo, your drowsiness dosing your nerves in soothing honey as your eyelashes rested against your warm cheeks. Sleep was euphoric. It had become such a relief to you that you had abandoned any hopes of seeking pleasure through strangers or potential romantic interests, the effort of understanding and compromising was exhausting in itself and your mind still hadn’t gotten over your teen fling. You thought about it sometimes, the potential to reunite with him, but every year it seemed more and more impossible. Since he left, your coworkers relied on you more and watched you with the underlying concern that one day you would slip through their fingers. Although, another reason lingered at the back of your head. It had been 6 years, did he even still want you? You told others that you had moved on, but he waited at the back of your mind, tapping his foot impatiently. He appeared in your dreams as a looming shadow, only recognisable through the kind smile it bore. You also saw him sometimes in the faces of others, their dark eyes making you stop in the headlight of their stare- so close, yet so different to the expression you could love. Besides those torturous reminders, what you could remember of him was hazy, in fact you barely remembered what he looked like. That didn’t stop you from missing him, however. You remembered the comfort he once brought you. Perhaps that was what you missed most, more than his body or charm.

You blinked hazily as the train approached your stop. Lethargically, you reached for your bags, pulling them over your shoulder as you stepped off into the station, distantly followed by the other two passengers from your carriage. You winced as you finally made it outside, light rain beginning to fall from the greying sky. However, it was fulfilling to inhale the fresh air- much fresher than the air at Shibuya station- as you rushed to your taxi, and drove towards the investigation site which, today, was an abandoned hospital. Before your arrival, you instantly knew there was something wrong. It wasn’t unusual that the area was void of human life, after all, it wasn’t near any residential areas. Sure, it wasn’t particularly unusual that the plantation was yellow and clearly overgrown either. However, two of the windows on the second floor had been shattered, which wasn’t particularly unusual by itself, but the broken shards were littered below the outside of the building, rather than the inside. See, that was unusual. It had been broken from inside. Someone had needed to escape. Fast. Discreetly. There were fire exits left, right, and centre- as you’d expect from a hospital- it was strange that someone would choose to evacuate from a window on the second story. You knew it must have been an ugly building, even before it was neglected, the dull boxiness of the hospital seeming like the kind of brutalist hellscape you’d find in a post-Soviet city. The upper edges of the building were blackened by the weather, and the only visible colour could be found in the yellowed blinds which clattered and trembled behind the savaged windows. Your wary gaze found a half-filled syringe containing ominous orange liquid, discarded in the mud. It made sense since it was a hospital… but when you really thought about it… how did it end up there? It looked like this place had been practically untouched since its closure which was… probably around 10 years ago…

A shiver ran down your spine.

If the curse had anything to do with needles, you wouldn’t hesitate to turn around, you decided.

You hadn’t really been given clear instructions, in fact, you weren’t given much more than a place and a time. With a glance at your watch, you noted that you were 5 minutes early as planned, so it made some sort of sense to why you couldn’t see the window you were supposed to be meeting. It was only meant to be a quick chat to fill you in on the details before you looked for yourself, but you had assumed they may have arrived a little early anyway. Apparently that wasn’t the case, so you waited in the rain, feet planted in the overgrown grass and shivering as cold droplets trickled down your neck. The next time you checked your watch, it was the time of the meeting, and there wasn’t a single person in sight. Momentarily, you considered venturing inside. Maybe something had happened to them. You glanced around. The guy couldn’t have gotten lost, could he? It’s a pretty obvious landmark.

10 minutes late.

You were getting restless. And drenched.

The window could wait, you were heading inside.

The front door was unlocked, most likely in anticipation of your visit, and you walked into what you assumed had once been the reception. Everything was so… grey. You could tell that at one point, they had made an effort of decorating with bright colours, but years of neglect had sucked out the life like a backstreet dentist, leaving everything the same dull grey; not to discount the slight variations such as grey-with-a-hint-of-mustard-yellow and grey-but-slightly-pink-but-it’s-mostly-grey-who-are-you-fooling. It stank of wet paper and what you prayed wasn’t asbestos, as well as a lingering trace of chemicals. The mould was a delightful pop of colour however, adding a daring element of almost-grey-but-green onto the aged, pale wallpaper. You grimaced, seriously considering whether the window had been organised to hand over a hazmat suit and a Bible before you gave your life to spilled cleaning agents and an undiscovered fungus. Perhaps they’d name it after you when you died. It was the least they could do, really.

After you journeyed up the dark stairs, you approached the operating rooms, and a wash of dread doused you like cold water. Whatever it was, you were close to it. Very close.

Because of your distinct lack of briefing, you barely knew who or what you’d be facing. There was a growing feeling that you recognised something, whether it was the cursed energy signature from the imminent threat or the familiar arms of your creator, it sparked a powerful reaction in your gut. You squinted, trying to make out the outline of the doorway using the little daylight that reached the corridor. You couldn’t help but notice how it was shockingly tidy. Sure, it was fucking disgusting, but everything was in its right place, tucked away by the ghostly hands of a nurse one decade ago. For some reason, it made it all the more terrifying. You stopped in front of the door, attempting to breathe through the suffocating pressure of whatever was beyond the door. It really was familiar, but it was too powerful for you to focus on it. It was like trying to fight a court trial whilst being waterboarded, and you weren’t entirely sure you could do it in normal conditions anyway, but you definitely couldn’t whilst partially submerged in liquid. You knew that for sure. The sheer amount of cursed energy seeping through the cracks of the door was headache-inducing. You gritted your teeth.

It was disastrously clear, then. Whatever or whoever was on the other side of the door was not your intended opponent. This mission should’ve been a field trip for you. This, however. This was a Gojo-level enemy. Not as strong, of course, but it lay somewhere in the gaping gap between the strongest grade 1 sorcerer and Gojo himself. Needless to say, it was too strong for you. You could accept that fact easily. In all honesty, your pride had left you the moment you entered the hospital.

Slowly, you backed away from the door, eyes fixed on the source of the outrageous cursed energy signature. It was consuming, the same way smoke engulfs a room. Your breaths were shallow and your limbs felt numb, you were probably shaking too, but you knew it would be ok if you kept your existence unknown and made a nimble escape. As dull light began to assist your vision, relief filled you. You were almost out. A few more steps and you’d be back in the stairwell. Then you could run.

Except you couldn’t. Because your back had hit a wall. A wall that hadn’t been there before.

You looked left, then right.

No… there definitely… shouldn’t be a wall behind you…

Oh, God.

“Are you the window?” you nervously grinned at nobody in particular. You were staring too, wide-eyed at the dark corridor before you, well-aware of your hands shaking, “You’re awfully late, you know…”

“My apologies.”

“Ha…”

The sound of a smooth, human voice was somewhat of a relief to you.

You could talk your way out of this one.

“You know, I’ve been waiting for this for a very… long… time...”

…Or maybe you couldn’t.

Inwardly you groaned, wanting to cry, “Fancy being a good Samaritan and forgive me for my sins?” you tried. It was always worth preaching kindness to your potential murderer in what could very well be your final moments. They didn’t teach that at school, but it must’ve worked at least once before, right?

“Enlighten me.” The person- a man- behind you sounded stiff.

“I dunno,” you smiled weakly, “It might seem difficult to believe but… there could be a few people who’d have a bone to pick with me right now.”

The man behind you hummed in thought, “I’m shocked.”

“Really?” Since you started working more hours, you’d dealt with countless curse users. It’d be a surprise to you if there wasn’t a request for your bounty for you on some dodgy website. As much as you’d love a copy of your own ‘DEAD OR ALIVE’ poster to frame, the ‘ALIVE’ part terrified you. Unfortunately, being a wanted person wasn’t quite the honour that Luffy made it out to be.

“No.”

You scowled. In response, the man’s voice rang out behind you, “You don’t recognise me?”

“Aww,” you turned your head slightly to grin over your shoulder, “Did you think you were special? I’m sorry if I didn’t make it clear that we weren’t gonna be exclusive.”

Suddenly you were being spun around.

“Are you sure that you don’t recognise me?”

You blinked.

You blinked twice.

That voice…

“Holy shit.”

The man looked at you in the dark.

“You’re that monk from the train.” …No… you knew him...

The man’s grip on you tightened, “Come on...”

You winced, “Is that… not it?” When he didn’t reply, you partially disregarded your fear in lieu of guilt, leaning closer to squint at him, “I can’t really see, sorry...”

“Oh, hang on-”

No, you definitely recognised him… buried deep in your subconscious… somewhere…

“Holy shit.” you exclaimed.

“Geto?”

Exasperated, Geto looked down at you.

“Obviously.”

“Sorry.” you smiled, sheepishly, “You wouldn’t have happened to see a window around here, would you?”

Geto’s frowned, “There never was one, it was a set-up.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to intercept the students… but you’re here instead.” You cringed.

Man, he’s pissed…

“Geeze, sorry.” you drawled.

It was strange seeing him again. Truthfully, you had no idea how to act around him. You still couldn’t see him very well, but the glistening gold silk on his robes made him shine like a heavenly figure, though considering his criminal record… he probably wouldn’t be an angel.

There were better places to run into your teen crush-turned-serial killer.

“There’s a special grade curse in there.” you pointed to the operating room you’d just backed away from.

Geto looked at you strangely, “I know, I put it there.”

Of course.

“Seriously?” you muttered, embarrassed, “Almost gave me a heart attack, you know…”

An awkward silence arose between the two of you. You had planned your reunion with him countless times when you were younger. Out of the hundreds of different scenarios, none of them started like this.

“I… um…” you scratched the back of your neck, “Wanna go outside? It’s just… it’s dark in here… I can’t, you know…” you cleared your throat, “I can’t see you.”

“It’s raining.” Geto replied dubiously, watching you as if he expected something,

You raised an eyebrow, “You scared or somethin’?”

Geto snorted, “Of course not, excuse me for not wanting to get soaked.”

“Right.” you’d forgotten about the rain, it wasn’t difficult to believe that it had gotten heavier than before, “We can sit in the reception if you don’t mind getting mesothelioma.”

“It’s not exactly ideal,” Geto sighed, “but sure that works.”

You wanted to slap yourself for the awkwardness between the two of you, but there was something about it which reminded you of your fondness for Geto. That was it, wasn’t it? The fact you were always able to be a social disaster around him was what initially drew you to him. He was patient, but not pitiful. Truthfully, sometimes he was even worse than you.

He followed you to the bottom floor as you headed towards the front door. Once you were outside, you turned to get a proper look at him. True, he was recognisable, but he had changed so much in these last years. Notably, Geto’s face had slimmed, emphasising the sharp angle of his cheekbones and the hollowness of his cheeks. He was less of a boy now, and if you hadn’t known him beforehand, he would’ve intimidated you. His hair was longer too, the strands framing his face reached the peak of his nose whilst the rest touched his lower back. Geto’s eyes were exactly how you remembered them though; deep and pensive. He had the kind of resting expression which made you second guess yourself when you suggested something. It had always seemed that with every casual, self-deprecating joke, Geto was analysing it, carefully peeling the fragile layers of the satirical overtones to expose your innermost vulnerabilities. To many, it was unnerving. Any casual comment intended to pull a negligent laugh from others received a dark, analytical look from Geto. That’s how it had always been, and it’s why you had taken a liking to him. Often, you couldn’t find the confidence to admit to distress or insecurity, but Geto always knew. He knew from the way you would chastise yourself for the smallest mistakes, and the fact you’d stop talking when you were overwhelmed. You didn’t have to say anything, and that was a relief to you. Geto knew. You wondered if he knew how you were feeling now- you sure didn’t.

“Are you ok?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. He was always difficult to read but he just looked at you. He wasn’t glaring, he wasn’t staring, he was just… looking. You watched him expectantly. “Geto?” you pressed. Geto didn’t respond, at least verbally. He just looked moderately pained, as he once did when he’d linger in the morgue with Shoko. His eyes flickered from you to the ground, almost… shyly? Was he shy?

“I was waiting for you.” Geto muttered, “You never came.”

Oh. Yeah.

Nevermind.

The honeymoon of your reunion ended with the clanging of a guillotine over cupid’s head. Inside of you, a small, childish hope had foolishly sprouted, praying that he’d be understanding. You cringed as you felt it shrivel up in the deepest depth of your gut, the blossoms blackening and ripping as it rotted within you.

“You act like your defection didn’t permanently scar the jujutsu society.” Geto raised his eyebrows, “Yes, it did.” you pressed before he could protest, “I couldn’t leave, even if I had wanted to. Yaga and Gojo wouldn’t let me out of their sight.”

And just like that, you were arguing.

“Did you even try?” he scoffed.

You groaned, “Believe it or not, Geto, becoming the housewife of a wanted criminal isn’t quite on my agenda. In fact, because of you I have more work to do than ever. We all do.”

“Just because everyone else is willing to suffer a poor job doesn’t mean you have to in order to save them.” Geto narrowed his eyes.

“Sure, but some don’t have a choice.” you challenged, “Remember Gojo?”

Geto scoffed, “Remember Satoru? Of course I do.” It was a low blow, you realised, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to feel guilty. “Who do you think I am?” he asked, voice low and hurt.

You shifted, awkwardly, “You left him to suffer.”

“He’s suffering?” Geto’s tone dulled.

You didn’t know whether you wanted to laugh or cry, “You thought he wouldn’t?” a pause. “Well,” you added, quietly, “I don’t know if he’s realised it yet but… yeah, he is.”

“Oh.” Geto’s lips thinned, offence flashing in his narrowed gaze, “Why would you tell me that?” he muttered, flinching backwards as if your words had punctured him like a misfired bullet.

“You wanted to know why I didn’t join you. That’s why.” You looked away, failing to grasp for words that would just fix things between you, “Well, that amongst other reasons…” You didn’t want to explain your own turmoil and struggles. Love didn’t equate to trust. You loved his touch and who he was, but you couldn’t trust the man in front of you to hear you and react fairly. It was all too predictable, and you feared that if you told him, your instincts would be proven. Sure, he’d always been cunning and sly, but also… manipulative. The word struggled to materialise in your brain, your subconscious trying to sugarcoat it as ‘intelligence’ and ‘caring’ in its reluctance to face his change.

His upset gaze softened, “Other reasons?”

You shook your head, “It’s not important right now.”

“I’d beg to differ.” Geto argued, “I have a right to know.” He was pushing you, testing you, even. You weren’t in the right headspace for this, you were so tired… so, so tired…

“You have no such right,” you scoffed, “but I apologise that you weren’t prepared for the consequences of your own actions.” A tense moment passed and you sighed, “If it helps, I wasn’t either.”

It was a poor attempt at softening the blow of your unfiltered words, but it wasn’t untrue. Betrayal pinched and poked at the supple flesh of your heart. You needed to realise it but… it wasn’t that easy. “No,” Geto stepped towards you, “It doesn’t.”

“Pity.” you rolled your eyes.

The dry remark left your lips before you could stop yourself. Geto froze. The silence that followed weighed on your shoulders, guilt creeping up on you.

“I’m sorry.” you murmured, “I shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up.”

The crawling discomfort at your own insincerity grasped your shoulders with heavy talons, the needle-sharp fingertips grazing your gentle skin, teasing your raw skin as blood threatened to bead in their wake and flow.

“It’s fine.” Geto said, stiffly.

You groaned internally, it all felt so childish. For a fleeting moment, you questioned the boy you once knew. Was Geto the boy who’d read with you on those humid summer nights, or was he the unsettling murderer in front of you?

“I wasn’t expecting you to keep to your promise.” he added, bluntly.

“I mean, I was 17,” you agreed carefully, “I had no idea what the future would hold. Neither did you.”

It was a lifeline, the final one you could spare. You could only beg that Geto would catch it with splayed hands.

Geto looked at you with scrutiny, “That’s true.”

It was enough. You could work with this.

You watched him warily, nodding slowly.

“Was it worth it?” Geto asked, seemingly more neutral.

Was it worth it?

“I don’t know.” You replied, honestly, “Things could be better.”

Geto stepped forward, putting his hand on your shoulder, “Then come with me. If things are worse, go back and I’ll take the blame.”

All too forward, predictable and exactly what you feared.

“…if you want to,” he added a second too late.

With narrowed eyes, you ignored him, instead choosing to glance around the clearing, noting the same emptiness as before. Geto didn’t move, his hair starting the curl as rain drenched the two of you. His hand on your shoulder started to feel heavy as he squeezed you gently, letting the presence of his reluctant affection be known, despite his hard stare. What could you do? You were still as unsure as you were 6 years ago about joining him.

“Where are you staying?” you asked, the action of your head cocking allowing cold droplets to trickle down the side of your neck. You regretted it instantly. Perhaps a change of environment would help things. Perhaps it’d help you understand.

“Not far from here.” Geto responded monotonously.

“I’d like to come over.” you tried, “Not for long.”

He nodded to himself, “Ok.”

Then he spared you a small smile and your heart leaped with the first and only genuine affection he’d shown you since you’d reunited.

That was him. That was Geto, right there. It wasn’t much, but you revelled in what you had.

You inwardly sighed, tiredly.

Maybe, just maybe, the two of you would get there in the end.

As you journeyed to his home, which really was in the middle of nowhere, you sat side by side in what was mostly silence. The two of you talked too, dropping shallow comments about your lives and complaints about the overly-touchy couple on the other side of the carriage as you took the train a few stops further out. More and more, Geto seemed like himself, even if the progress was minuscule. It was something. If anything, hope thumped in your chest- naive hope albeit, but hope nonetheless. After a while, you finally approached his home. It looked small, yet lived-in. Outside, rows of vegetation orbited the building, as well as trees bearing fruit in various stages of ripeness.

“The girls are out, I’m afraid.” Geto called behind his shoulder as he unlocked the door, holding it open for you.

“Girls?” you inquired as you walked in, “Daughters or hostages?”

Geto laughed quietly, “Daughters.”

“You got a chick pregnant?” your response was paired with the twitch of your lip and the stutter in your step. You knew it was hypocritical, the sinking disappointment, you chastised yourself for feeling it… however...

The door clicked behind him and you heard his footsteps stilled behind you, “Does it matter?”

“Yes.” you replied, shortly.

“C’mon.”

You turned to look at him, blankly.

“Of course not.” Geto rolled his eyes.

You blinked, “Oh.”

“They’re adopted.” The way Geto said your name afterwards was in disbelief, “I told you I waited, didn’t I?”

“You may have mentioned it,” you sniffed, “yes.”

Geto raised an eyebrow, “You’re unbelievable,” he walked past you, brushing your shoulder as he did so, “you’re seriously more butthurt by that than the fact I murder people?”

“Ok?” you felt your cheeks burn, “And what if I am? I have priorities, Geto.”

He turned to look at you, his eyes boring into yours, “So, your priorities are… what, exactly?

“Um…” You scratched the back of your neck, “Nothin’” you waved your hand dismissively with a strained grin. “None of your business, really.” you rambled, searching desperately for some sort of a reaction, “You could use it against me, y’know? It’d be very dangerous if I told you.”

Geto looked at you strangely, “…Right.”

He was supposed to smile… or laugh… or do something at the very least, not just… walk past you…

You wanted to press rewind and try this all again.

You wanted to go home.

After a lost moment, you followed him helplessly. It was a simple home. There was more evidence of life there than there was at your home, you knew that for sure. Drawings that were clearly drawn by an adolescent hand were woven throughout the decorations, depicting a family of three. It was clear that they were close. You felt left out. It seemed you had missed out on so much. Maybe Geto was right, maybe this was a better life. It still didn’t remove your responsibility in the shaman world, but Gojo’s students were the strongest they’d seen in years, right? Maybe you were allowed this. Maybe you were allowed to welcome your lover as they walked through the door in the evening, embracing them softly. Maybe you could have this life. It seemed completely out-of-touch, you couldn’t just leave. You knew that. However… something was stopping you.

Geto led you to his kitchen, pouring you a glass of water.

“Oh?” you took the glass from him with a small smile.

Geto pushed it into your hands, “Don’t tell me you’ve miraculously stopped being so dehydrated since we last talked.”

He had a point, to be fair.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You took a sip of the cool water, “I don’t think I’ve had pure water for around 48 hours…” you murmured absentmindedly, the rim of the glass pressed against your lower lip as you spoke, your breath fogging up the glass.

Geto grimaced, “Shouldn’t you be taking care of yourself? You’re not a teenager anymore.” he looked at you, clearly unimpressed, “I just hope your diet is faring better.”

“You’d think, right?” you watched his lips thin.

Geto muttered your name under his breath, “Seriously?”

“Been too busy.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

You hummed pensively, “Good question.”

The way Geto spoke your name this time was dull, his eyebrows furrowed. You took a sip of water.

“Fine, I’ll cook you something now,” he turned his back on you, “do you still like spicy food?”

You watched as he gathered ingredients and boiled a pot of water. It was a shy wash of comfort, being back in his presence like this. Lord knows how long it had been since someone last took care of you. The rising smell of fresh vegetables seemed almost foreign to you at this point. Whilst the noodles were cooking, Geto disappeared momentarily as he changed into a baggy t-shirt and trousers. There he was, he was more like the man you remembered. Less tired, perhaps, though maybe you had taken on that burden in exchange. You didn’t speak as you idly sipped on the water, feeling like a small child as he cooked the first proper meal that you would eat in ages. He hummed softly as he mixed the broth, it was something you hadn’t seen him do before. His voice was low, almost inaudible, as he repeated the melody of a song you knew he loved…

What was it…?

Geto’s humming turned to soft singing as he stirred the broth.

…Isn’t it good?

Norwegian wood…

Oh, now you remembered it.

…She asked me to stay,

And she asked me to sit anywhere…

You hadn’t heard that song for years, not since he left. Geto used to play music as he cooked, ambling around the kitchen as he hummed to himself. You remembered how Gojo used to tease him about his ‘old man’ music. You did too. Affectionately, of course. It seemed so long ago, how you’d all linger in the doorway, despite his questionable music taste, hoping to grab a bite of whatever he was cooking. You forgot how good of a cook he was, you were looking forward to your meal.

As he cooked, the songs changed, ranging from ones you remembered to what you guessed were newer additions. When Geto began dishing up the food, he gestured for you to sit in the living room. And so you did, settling onto a sofa as you eagerly anticipated your meal. After a moment, he sat down opposite you, placing the bowl on the coffee table in front of you with a gentle tap.

You felt the warmth of the steam below your chin as you picked the bowl up.

“None for yourself?” you asked before experimentally sipping the broth.

It was as good as you remembered, you gladly noted.

Geto shook his head, “I already ate.”

“Ah.” you took a mouthful of noodles, “Makes sense.”

You ate in what was mostly stiff silence, interrupted by a few passing comments about the food or your lives. Out of the corner or your eye, you noticed Geto watching you, head resting on his hand. His lips were tugged into a pensive frown, his gaze gentle yet lost, as if a whirlwind of thoughts happened to be storming in his mind. Had you been less tired, maybe you’d be doing the same. Right now, however, you were enjoying some warm, hearty home cooking. Overthinking could wait, you were hungry.

“What will you do when you’re done here?” Geto asked suddenly, voice raised.

You swallowed your mouthful, studying him carefully, “Huh?”

“You would be less overworked if you reported me, so will you?”

What kind of question was that?

“I’m not gonna do that,” you swirled the noodles through the broth absentmindedly, “Though I do have a question…”

Geto raised an eyebrow.

“Assuming I don’t report you, I’ll be neutral,” slowly, you sat back, watching him, “Taking that neutrality assumes the side of the oppressor, then who do I side with?”

He sighed, “Me. Probably. That’s what you think, right?”

“Is it?,” your fingers drummed against the armrest, noting his tone like a pinch of salt mixed into a pot of honey, “Does that make Gojo the oppressed?”

“Going by that logic, yes,” he replied, too easily.

You took another mouthful, suddenly grateful for the distraction of eating, “And I?”

“Shooting yourself in the foot,” Geto said after a pause, “to you.”

“To me?” you echoed quietly, “I guess.”

“Still going to protect me?” Geto’s lip twitched as he watched you, ever-so carefully.

“I guess.” you repeated. The last thing you needed from him was a rivalry, you were initially hoping for a truce of some sort but the void darkness in his eyes drained the last hope you had. “I’m not here for justice or to solve anything, I’m here for money, mostly.”

Geto snorted shortly, “No different to the rest, then.”

“I guess not.” you chose to ignore the sting behind his words.

The two of you settled into waves of rumbling quiet as you finished your food. Geto seemed somewhat more distracted as he began to hum again, almost inaudible to you this time. You missed this- him, even. Despite the obvious, he held some sort of familiarity to you that not many did- now that you savoured. The two of you came together as you tried to fit together again, pushing and pulling at each other like oil and water.

“Y’know,” you placed the bowl down, “you’re acting all strange.”

Geto grinned, thinly, “Am I?”

“You are,” you couldn’t help but match his expression, “you know it too.”

His smile widened like the Cheshire cat, “Do I?”

“You do.”

A second of silence lugged by like a three ton truck.

“I missed you, Geto.”

The rain knocked against the windows gently, beading like crystals in front of the puffs of smoky black clouds consuming the sky. The lack of sunlight meant the room became darker too, the dim light doing little to relieve the gloominess of the bad weather. Outside, a wind chime rattled with the gust of the temperamental wind. Inside, the soft tapping of Geto’s fingers against the wooden table paused, leaving the ticking of the clock to slice through the ambient howling and tapping of the weather against the walls. Inside of you, however, your heart and brain played a tentative game of tug of war. You just did something big.

Like, really fucking big.

Well… not really, but nobody had told that to Geto, evidently, suggested by the way he gasped at you almost comically, eyebrows arched.

“I also like you, so if you wouldn’t mind fishing out the astronomical log up your ass, I’d like to have a conversation with you about it.”

Geto coughed, “Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Ok.”

You looked at him, an eyebrow raised.

“You didn’t even try to reach out to me.” he started, bluntly. “You didn’t try to find me. None of you did.”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling very unprepared.

Geto continued, “I’m not even upset that you didn’t come with me, you just didn’t tell me.” you nodded, mind racing.

“I couldn’t.” you replied.

“And that’s the worst bit,” His lip twitched as he looked away, “I can’t even be mad at you for it. You were just protecting yourself-”

“And you.”

Geto blinked.

“I was being tracked.”

Geto’s lips parted slightly.

“Same reason Gojo and Shoko didn’t come to you,” you told him, “Gojo knows where you are, he has done since the day he found out you left.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, Geto.”

“I mean,” Geto coughed, “It’s fine I guess, but-”

“Not for that,” you rushed, gaining an unimpressed look from the man opposite you, “I’m sorry that things happened this way. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you when you were spiralling. I’m sorry that there was nobody there for you when you left.” you took a deep breath, “I wasn’t the person you needed me to be, though I’d like to be. If you’ll let me.”

Geto studied you, pensively, “Does that mean you’re staying?”

You winced, “I’m not leaving you again.” you offered. You weren’t quite ready to admit to yourself that you were leaving home. Not yet, anyway. “I’m not doing any of the murdering though, you can do that.” you grimaced.

After a pause, Geto laughed.

“Ok.” His gaze was warmer than it had been, more open, “I’d love that.”

“Murder? Yeah I figured.” you muttered despite yourself.

Geto simply laughed harder. He really was a sight for sore eyes. The way he smiled, the way he looked away when he smiled, the way his hair fell over his face when he shook too much… God, you-

“I missed you too.”

Your mind went black.

Oh, you had told him, hadn’t you? And he felt the same way. Surely there was a logical conclusion to this.

You stood and moved to sit next to him. Then you leaned towards him, noticing the way he flushed at the proximity.

“Can I?” your hands hovered in front of you as you moved to touch him.

He nodded.

Your hands tentatively reached to cradle the sides of his face, thumbs gently rubbing circles into the curve of his jaw. Geto’s hands moved to cover yours as he watched you, wide eyed.

“Can we? I’ve wanted this for so long… Just- trust me, ok?” you whispered, stumbling over your words, your voice low. He nodded faintly before his eyes flashed with indescribable emotion.

“Ok.” Geto sighed, almost inaudibly to you.

You smiled, “Ok.”

As you withdrew your touch, your fingertips lingered on his skin, grazing the surface of his soft, olive cheeks. He tilted his head as you moved, chasing your warm palms.

“Can I kiss you… Suguru?”

You saw him stiffen as his name rolled off your tongue. Geto blinked at you before the corners of his mouth twitched upwards in a grin. In place of a verbal response, he mimicked your earlier actions, taking your head into his palms. His touch was gentle, yet firm as he guided your face towards his. The feeling of Geto’s warm breath on your smiling lips made you buzz with anticipation, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering as you itched towards the sweet nectar of his mouth. He met you in the middle, fingers threading through your hair as he ever-so gently scratched your scalp with his blunt nails. You sighed, content, eyelashes fluttered close against your hot cheeks. It was a nostalgic kiss, a loving one, not the same heated one you shared so long ago. As your lips moved against one another’s, you were fixated on the lingering heat of his body, craving it like an addict for the mere seconds the two of you parted for air.

As soon as Geto urged your lips open with the swipe of his tongue, you knew you weren’t going back.

The desperately intimate movements of your tongues became hypnotic: rubbing, prodding, tangling. Your hands had slipped round his neck, your chest pressed against his torso. When you parted, you buried your head in the crook of his neck, lips pressed against the flushed skin as you panted. Above you, Geto gently stroked your hair, playing with the soft strands as you both gave yourselves time. You weren’t teenagers anymore, you couldn’t jump into something so intense without the knowledge that there was definitely an unwavering mutual understanding between the two of you. Slowly, you pulled away, looking up at him with wide eyes. The hand in your hair moved to brush the stray hairs away from your face, tucking them neatly behind your ear.

“Are you ok?” Geto murmured, leaning into you so that his lips hovered millimetres away from your cheek. The proximity, whilst lustful on the surface, carried more depth than you could comprehend. The weight of his hands, his lips, his voice, his words, were like bricks in your pockets, pulling you impossibly deeper into the encompassing aura of - just him. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was in particular that pulled you to him, realistically you knew it was a mixture of the history you shared and the absence you’d endured, but it was overwhelming and not enough all at once. Maybe it’d be a while until the trust you’d once shared would be recovered. Maybe it never would be. The consequences of your assumptions and his isolation could haunt you together. His radicalisation, your indecisiveness… maybe you were a lost cause, but the way hummed so soothingly as you nodded your affirmation doused your doubts immediately. He kissed you again, harsher this time, his grip on you tighter as he held you with desperation. You knew then, if you left now, you were never to be forgiven. But if you stayed... If you stayed, he’d never let you go.

Each touch rolled into another like the crashing of waves. Your shirt had been discarded by the fireplace a while ago, leaving Geto to revise the curves and contours of your torso with his left hand, fingers dipping into the hollows of your ribs and splaying over the small of your back. The whole time, he watched you, eyebrows pinched and mouth frowning in thought as he traced the tempestuous dark circles below your eyes with his right thumb. You were patient, meeting his distracted gaze as you idly played with his hair. This wasn’t the rushed goodbye you’d shared 6 years ago, this was a coronation of his love. Minutes passed and you were laid on the sofa, bare to his dark eyes. You had taken it upon yourself to step out of your underwear and to unclasp your bra. It was endearing, the way Geto obediently watched, eyes flicking between your breasts and cunt as you dropped the garments to the side. Amused, you cocked your head to the side, “Are you ok?”

Geto blinked at you, tugging at the hem of his shirt, “Yes,” he mumbled, looking to the side embarrassedly as he pulled his shirt over his head, “how did you want to do this?”

You hummed in thought. To be honest, you weren’t really that bothered, but it touched you that he asked. Though, you were aching and tired, so.. “As we are,” you replied, stifling a yawn, “please.”

He smiled at your apparent tiredness and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, “I’ll go slow but tell me if it’s too much, ok?”

You nodded.

“Good girl.”

Good girl?

Good. Girl.

You were fucking reeling.

After Geto wrestled his trousers and boxers off, he slid his hand between your thighs and pushed them apart, carefully. He leaned over you, using his own thighs to keep yours open as he kissed you again, messily, lazily. You sighed into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck as he moved his knee forward until it grazed your most sensitive parts. As Geto slipped his tongue into your mouth, you gasped at the sudden plethora of sensations- all of them far too much, yet far too good. You took your time as you grinded against his knee, moaning and muttering curses against his swollen lips. A few years ago, maybe you would’ve been embarrassed by the amount of time it took for you to feel ready to take him, but you didn’t want to rush this. It was as precious as the climax itself, and the pleasure of basking in his warmth and affection made you giddy and hot. You cracked an eye open as you parted for air to check on Geto, your hips not stopping their lethargic, yet desperate rocking against his knee. What you found wasn’t boredom or impatience, rather intense affection and peace in the stare of your lover. It was oddly sweet compared to the obscene way his knee glistened with your slick. Content, you closed your eyes again, letting Geto’s gentle lips on your chest and neck lull you into an orgasm that had your toes curling and back arching. He coaxed you down with soft encouragement and kisses as he moved his knee from your core.

You grinned as you looked at his awed expression, “Come on.” you teased. Geto rolled his eyes before adjusting your positions.

After a moment he settled, lowering himself to be closer to you. “I love you,” he whispered, peppering kisses over your face, “so, so much.”

A smile spread across your face before you could stop it, “I bet you say that to all of your victims.” you teased.

Geto groaned, “God, shut up.”

You laughed to yourself, breath catching as you felt him press against your entrance. The way he looked at you felt like lying in sunlight, and you forgot how tired and irritable you had been. This was all you had ever needed. Him- that was all.

It had been a while since you last slept with anyone, so the intrusion initially stung. However, a few kisses and gentle whispers later, he had eased himself in completely, and you were burning with anticipation. Geto looked at you carefully, visibly holding himself back.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” you adjusted yourself slightly, “m’fine.”

He grinned, kissing the column of your neck before he started moving, hands bracing you by your hips. Beads of sweat had appeared on his forehead and chest, causing his hair to stick to his face. You knew you were the same too, unable to ignore the way yours was sticking to your neck. Lazily, you pulled him further down onto you, wrapping your legs around his hips like a boa constrictor, causing him to penetrate you even deeper. The silence of the room was disrupted by the rhythmic groans and gasps the two of you released every time he rocked into you. You were so full, it felt like your nerves were on fire as he pushed against that spot inside of you that made you see heaven.

“Shit-” you whimpered as he sped up, biting into his shoulder as you gasped and moaned against the reddened skin.

Geto wasn’t faring much better as he uttered curses against your cheek, mixed within prayers and declarations of your beauty and significance.

“You’re so,” Thrust. “Fucking,” Thrust. “Pretty,” Thrust. “Like this-”

You could feel the hot puffs of air against your ear as he helplessly whined, his pace quickening despite himself.

“I’ve been,” Thrust. “Thinking about,” Thrust. “Doing this,” Thrust. “Since,” Thrust. “Last time-”

You couldn’t help it, the way his words drove you towards your peak like a wildfire.

“Please, Suguru,” you moaned, rocking against him as his cock hammered into you, “I’m so..”

“Close?” Geto grunted, “You’re close?”

“Fuck- yes!”

He swore under his breath.

Your back arched, chest pressing against his as his calloused fingers found your throbbing, ever-so sensitive clit.

You were so close, so, so, so close…

“Cum for me.”

With a scream, your orgasm washed over you, causing you to tremble with the intensity. Geto’s pace didn’t falter as you rode out the after effects. Well, not until he followed you closely after. Hips stuttering, you whined as you felt his cum drip fill you. He moaned loudly, eyebrows furrowed and abs flexed. You decided that it was one of the most beautiful sights in the world.

For a while, you panted against each other, Geto had collapsed on top of you and was now curled into you, head tucked beneath your chin. Absentmindedly, you stroked his air, sighing softly as he kissed your neck tenderly.

“Did I hurt you?” you felt his voice vibrate through where you were touching. Geto’s voice was low and rough- exhausted probably.

“Nah,” you replied easily, “tired though.”

He yawned, “Stay here then.” he muttered, sounding half asleep.

You laughed sardonically, “Is this part of your elite plan to stop me going back?”

Geto sat up, looking at you strangely, “You’re still thinking of going back?” He sounded more judgemental than hurt.

“Well,” you snorted, “probably not now.”

“Fucking hell,” Geto flopped down next to you, cuddling you again, “you scared me.”

You kissed the crown of his head apologetically, “Sorry, Suguru.”

The two of you laid on the sofa together in silence, communicating purely through loving touches and glances. Outside, you heard the rain become heavier on the windows, drowning out the buzz of the kitchen.

“I love you too,” you blurted, suddenly reminded of his abrupt confession, “by the way.”

Geto huffed, “I figured.”

“I’m staying here.” you added. A confirmation.

You felt him press a lingering kiss to your cheek.

“I figured that one too.”

You sighed, “I’ll need to go home and grab my stuff… and quit my job…” Geto snickered on top of you, “what a bore…”

“How long will that take?” he asked, voice rough.

“Like,” you wrinkled your nose, “three days, maybe.”

Geto groaned, “‘S long time.”

“Yeah,” you agreed irritably, “what a drag.”

He snorted, “I miss you already.”

“Tease.”

#in an era of naming fics after beatles songs #and you are powerless to stop me #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #angst #geto suguru #jjk gojo #jjk geto #jjk shoko #jjk fluff #geto x reader #smut #jjk smut #jjk geto x reader

88 notes · View notes

cosettepontmercys · 4 months

Text

books read in 2024!

books read so far: 58/100

— book blog: http://teatimelit.com — bookstagram: @cossettereads — gr: http://goodreads.com/cossettereads — sg: https://app.thestorygraph.com/profile/cossettereads

as always, askbox + dms are open if have any questions or would like to chat about books! 🤍

⊹ indicates any (new) favorites of the month! previous months are under the cut!

april ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

1) the goodbye cat by hiro arikawa (reread) 2) the traveling cat chronicles by hiro arikawa (reread) 3) this is me trying by racquel marie (arc) 4) kill her twice by stacey lee (arc) 5) the pairing by casey mcquiston (arc) 6) swiped by l.m. chilton (arc) 7) lies and weddings by kevin kwan (arc) 8) the odyssey by homer (audiobook)

january ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

1) beach read by emily henry (reread) 2) on palestine by noam chomsky & ilan pappé 3) valley verified by kyla zhao (gifted) 4) the wind at my back: resilience, grace, and other gifts from my mentor, raven wilkinson by misty copeland & susan fales-hill (gifted) 5) check please: year one by ngozi ukazu (reread) 6) check please: year two by ngozi ukazu (reread) 7) check please: year three by ngozi ukazu (reread) 8) check please: year four by ngozi ukazu (reread) 9) raiders of the lost heart by jo segura (gifted) 10) the frame-up by gwenda bond (arc) 11) everything i never told you by celeste ng ⊹ 12) forgive me not by jennifer baker (gifted) 13) ever after always by chloe liese (gifted) 14) the summer of bitter and sweet by jen ferguson (gifted) 15) the lily of ludgate hill by mimi matthews (gifted) 16) last call at the local by sarah grunder ruiz (gifted) ⊹ 17) the sun and the void by gabriela romero-lacruz (gifted) 18) a line in the dark by malinda lo (gifted) 19) biting the hand: growing up asian in black and white america by julia lee (gifted) 20) play it as it lays by joan didion → january wrap up

february ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

1) mister hockey by lia riley * 2) collide by bal khabra (arc) * 3) a curious beginning by deanna raybourn (gifted) 4) breaking the ice by k.r. collins * 5) if only you by chloe liese (gifted) * 6) anxious people by frederik backman ⊹ 7) the catch by amy lea (gifted) 8) weekends with you by alexandra paige (arc) 9) happily never after by lynn painter (arc) 10) klara and the sun by kazuo ishiguro 11) good material by dolly alderton 12) in the event this doesn't fall apart by shannon lee barry 13) the night ends with fire (arc) by k.x. song 14) the good, the bad, and the aunties (arc) by jesse q. sutanto 15) where sleeping girls lie (arc) by faridah àbíké-íyímídé 16) sophomore surge by k.r. collins * 17) lighting the lamp by k.r. collins * 18) glove save and a beauty by k.r. collins * 19) home ice advantage by k.r. collins * 20) power play by k.r. collins * 21) grounded by k.r. collins * 22) line chemistry by k.r. collins * → february wrap up

march ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

1) happy medium by sarah adler (arc) 2) a darker shade of magic by v.e. schwab (audiobook) 3) expiration dates by rebecca serle (arc) 4) divine rivals by rebecca ross (book club) 5) the siren by katherine st. john (gifted) 6) light in gaza edited by jehad abusalim 7) how to end a love story by yulin kuang (arc) // reviewed here 8) rising from the deep: the seattle kraken, a tenacious push for expansion, and the emerald city's sports revival by geoff baker 9) les misérables by victor hugo (reread) → march wrap up

#post: 2024 reading thread #i love starting the year out with a reread of a favorite! takes the pressure off <3 #and since allison started reading beach read last night i decided to join her!!!

51 notes · View notes

vintagerpg · 8 months

Text

A Gathering Darkness (1998) kicks of the mind flayer Monstrous Arcana trilogy, which involves the delightfully pulpy scheme by the illithids to extinguish the sun in order to take over the surface world. That’s where we’re going, though — the substance of this adventure is on a much smaller scale, focusing on rooting out a cell of mind flayers who secretly control a city.

Blessedly, while the adventure is still event-y, it is not an event-crawl like so many other ‘90s modules. Rather, it presents four separate investigations (each tied to a specific locale — tower, sewers, a warehouse and the city guardhouse. Completing these (in any order and with a variety of potential solutions) leas the players to the illithid caverns and the final confrontation with Shuluth, the mind flayer leader. Shuluth is an interesting cat, in that he has a larger legacy despite dying here — he was resurrected as an example of a legendary villain in 3E and immortalized with a pretty cool miniature that involves a sort of mechanical eye patch.

Which reminds me: it is worth noting that this interpretation of mind flayers is extremely science fictiony. They have goggles and wet suits that they can use to withstand the sun on the surface and some, like Shuluth, employ psionic-powered exoskeletons to make themselves tougher (despite their ability to eat brains, most flayers are pretty squishy if you get the drop on them). This might not align with more mystical or Lovecraftian preconceptions of the monsters, so YMMV. I like it though.

Oh, and, that monster on the cover isn’t in the adventure at all, unless I missed it somehow.

#roleplaying game #dungeons & dragons #tabletop rpg #rpg #d&d #ttrpg #Monstrous Arcana #Mind Flayer #A Gathering Darkness

133 notes · View notes

hueningsloverr · 4 months

Text

౨ৎ summer's over !

pairing: hueningkai x reader summary: every year, huening kai would visit the beach. and every year, you would be there. but that would change. word count: 1.0k

many generations ago - like, many - your family purchased a beach house in a small coastal town a few hours away from where you were living growing up. and so, every summer right after school got out, you stayed at that beach house for a month and a half, until school started again. and it had been that way your entire life.

when you were eight or nine, you met kai. he was the same age as you (although he was still only seven or eight when you met, he quickly turned the same age), and lived just down the street.

kai was a meek boy, who swore up and down he was 'so much cooler' during the school year - dance team, choral groups… everything musical you could dream of. but summer kai was still so cool to you - though there were a lack of waves he knew how to surfboard, he was a true musician just like his dad and older sister, and he was kind.

and so every summer, you'd wait for kai on the beach by your houses, and every summer he'd show up right as the sun was setting and summer would truly start then.

at eleven, your parents decided to permanently move to the beach house - city life was getting to be too much for them, and somehow at the beach it was always summer.

except it was never summer for you without kai.

by the time you were fourteen you started seeing less and less of kai.

'he's busy,' bahiyyih smiled, leaning over the counter of the book store you worked in. you laughed, rolling your eyes as you put away books. 'and he hates not being here. he whines about missing you every time we talk.'

you didn’t say anything in return, in truth you were too scared to. what would you even say? that you missed kai too? everyone knew that. there was nothing to say. no words could be spoken to fit how you truly felt.

'i keep telling him to come up, lea even offered to drive back into the city and get him.' she sighed, shaking her head as she spoke. 'apparently, his new friends tease him relentlessly about you.'

that idea was a foreign one.

kai spoke about you to others in the city?

he truly cared that much about you?

after turning fifteen, you simply accepted you would no longer see kai. he barely answered the texts you sent him, and claimed he was just too busy with school. he wasn't a dumb kid, which was the strange part - what smart kid has to suffer through summer school?

halfway through the summer, kai made a brief appearance. you were too busy working - too angry at him for abandoning you in some dusty bookstore - to see him. and so he came and went without even speaking a word to you.

'he's upset he couldn't find you.' bahiyyih whined, sipping leisurely on her iced tea. 'he said when he went by the store you were on your lunch break, and he didn’t have time to track you down.'

'sucks for him.' you huffed, staring out at the ocean.

there wasn't much more to say. hiyyih understood that. you were upset. kai was keeping things from you, and it was ruining your friendship.

during the last week of summer, at the ripe age of sixteen, and around the time most people packed up and moved back to the city - the time period bahiyyih and lea were leaving - kai appeared again. and this time? this time you couldn't hide.

"not here kai. not now"

"no i need to tell you the truth, please."

"kai i can't-"

"i can't not tell you though, you’re important to me."

"if i was important kai, you would put in the effort to at least text me back."

he paused, of course you'd bring up his lack of communication. it's not as if he chose to ignore you, he was refrained from talking anyone who was not family,

"i wanted to, really!" he began, defense at the ready yet so unprepared for your next words. "i just couldn't. and i want to be able to tell you why but i can't."

you frowned at his words. god, kai really hated when you were upset. it just wasn't fair he couldn't tell you.

"and that's the issue with us, kai. i can't trust you if you up and leave constantly, disappearing without any trace."

kai recognized the look in your eyes, and he knew it was one he would remember for the rest of his days. it was similar to the look you gave him at the end of every summer - well, used to give him. except this time, he could tell it was permanent.

"this is goodbye?" he asked, body tense as the realization hit him like a freight train. "i just need until the end of the winter to prove to you-" he pleaded, desperation kicking in.

"kai," you sighed, somehow already conveying everything through just one word. "i've spent too long waiting. i can't spend my entire life waiting. you'll leave today, go live your city life, and maybe i'll see you next summer. but me? i'm here, every day. i can't live here for eternity, waiting for you to maybe show up."

tears were pooling in your eyes at that point, and kai knew not to push you any further.

"this is goodbye." he muttered, more to himself than to you. it didn't feel real. it all felt like some terrible dream, and at any moment he'd wake up, still thirteen and preparing to make his annual trip to the beach.

but it wasn't a dream.

"summer's over kai, it's time you go home."

he nodded, watching you for any sign that you didn't mean what you were saying. but you did. you meant it all.

"do you think - are were still friends in some other time?"

your heart shattered at his words. you two weren't friends anymore.

"we're together in some universe - in the infinite combinations of worlds, in at least one there is no goodbye for you and i." you smiled, allowing the tears to fall.

and so, with those words, kai was gone. and summer would never come again.

authors note: this is my contribution to the holiday season!!! angst!!! also probably the last thing ill post for this year. this draft has been sitting here for 3 months. i wrote this september 25th. inspo also comes from yellowcards ocean avenue!!!

32 notes · View notes

skylarsblue · 2 years

Text

I also made playlists. So, I’ll put them here, for the sake of it. I was just bored.

Bo Sinclair

Bitch Came Back - Theory of a Deadman

A*****e - hooligan chase

I Miss The Misery - Halestorm

Closer - Nine Inch Nails

Middle Finger - Bohnes

I Don’t Care - Fall Out Boy

Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana

Don’t You Dare Forget The Sun - Get Scared

Burning Pile - Mother Mother

Wrecking Ball - Mother Mother

Try To Change - Mother Mother

Sleep Awake - Mother Mother

Dirty Town - Mother Mother

Cowboy Casanova - Carrie Underwood

Honey, I’m Good - Andy Grammer

Human - Rag ‘n’ Bone Man

Daddy Issues - The Neighborhood

Seventeen - Marina & The Diamonds

I Am Not A Robot - Marina & The Diamonds

The Family Jewels - Marina & The Diamonds

Evelyn Evelyn - Evelyn Evelyn

Lester Sinclair

Soldier, Poet, King - The Oh Hellos

Everybody Talks - Neon Trees

The Moss - Cosmo Sheldrake

Miles - Mother Mother

Sleep Awake - Mother Mother

Body of Years - Mother Mother

Dirty Town - Mother Mother

Glitter & Gold - Barns Courtney

Boondocks - Little Big Town

River Lea - Adele

Fireflies - Owl City

As She’s Walking Away - Zac Brown Band

Good Ol’ Fashioned Lover Boy - Queen

Somebody To Love - Queen

Lover Man - Ricky Montegomery

Dear God - XTC

Boys Will Be Bugs - cavetown

This Is Home - cavetown

Vincent Sinclair

Body - Mother Mother

Oh Ana - Mother Mother

Panic Room - Au/Ra

Grrrls - AViVA

BANG! - AJR

bury a friend - Billie Eilish

8 - Billie Eilish

ilomilo - Billie Eilish

Monster - dodie

If I’m Being Honest - dodie

Saint Bernard - Lincoln

Seventeen - Marina & The Diamonds

Test Me - Melanie Martinez

Glued - Melanie Martinez

Dollhouse Melanie Martinez

R.I.P 2 My Youth - The Neighborhood

Bottom of the River - Delta Rae

Two Birds - Regina Spektor

Evelyn Evelyn - Evelyn Evelyn

#slashers #slasher community #slasher x reader #slasher fucker #bo sinclair #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair #house of wax #slasher memes #vincent sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #house of wax 2005

572 notes · View notes

harringtons-cupid · 1 year

Text

RichMarried!Steve Harrington x Fem!Mistress Reader

w.c: 3.2k

warnings -18+: Thigh-touching, suggestive looks, introductory relationship. Cheek kissing, flirting, alcohol use

Tagged: @bisexual-byers @luna-munson83 @queerpumpkinnn @littlepotatobeansworld @hazzaismyreligion @littlepotatobeansworld @mikefaistwasinnewsies @urlbitchin @stevestummy @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @munsonsbaby @moonchildquinn @beesoo13 @nojerama1996 @sw34terw34ther

There is French within this chapter, the translations for them are here:

oh, Tu parle Française - oh, do you speak french? Ah oui, je venir du France et toi? - oh, i come from France, and you? Je venir du France et Etas-Uni - I come from France and America. Ah tres gentile, voulez-vous un tea - oh very nice, do you want tea? vous avez une petit ferme dans votre jardin, ma femme n’aime pas les animaux - You have a small farm in your garden, my wife doesn't like animals. oh non, je suis désolé. Eh bien vous pouvez avoir certains de mes oeufs de poulets quand - oh no, i'm sorry. Well you can have some of my chickens eggs whenever. ahah, merci beaucoup - thank you very much -J'aimerais mieux to connaitre - I want to get to know you better, tu es la bienvenue jolie fille - you're welcome pretty girl

Masterlist | KOFI

Money was not something you needed from a man, you were independent and successful in your own right.

Living comfortably on your own in the house between the city and the country, your previous relationships had fallen apart because you didn’t want kids or to get married.

You were fine with that, your small little holding with chickens, dogs and cats was the perfect life for you.

In your solitude on Sunday afternoons was something that you cherished.

Today you were walking through the little village that you lived in, walking your beige and white beagle Petal when a big black BMW slowed down next to you.

Expecting some 60 year old man to peer his head out and ask for direction but you were taken back to see such a pretty young face raise his sunglasses to see you properly.

“Uh, Hi Miss. Could you tell me where number 5 Rosehill house is please?” His voice was calm and patient, as he waited for you to answer.

“Yeah of course” you flushed red, as his stayed on you. Leaning closer to the car as you directed him visually, he winked at with a nod before thanking you.

Stunned at the encounter, you brushed down your dress and cleared your throat. Still watching the road that his car drove down, leading Petal to continue walking.

Rosehill house was 2 doors up for your house, you had heard rumours in the town that a wealthy family had just bought it. Not wanting to assume things you shrugged of those tingly feelings for the stranger and walked home.

Later that evening there was a soft knock on your front door, as you left the rest of your dried cutlery and plates on the side. Too distracted to even look through the peephole, you opened the door.

To your surprise, the handsome stranger from earlier was stood in front of you with some flowers and a smile.

“Oh, hi again. My name is Steve, I live at Rosehill house and I wanted to give you these flowers, me and my wife have been handing them out to our neighbors as a welcoming gift” he stumbled slightly in shock as he looked you up and down.

He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses now, his hair was messy and had fallen across his face. He looked softer and kind as he stood there with the flowers that were slowly dying in his hand.

"Thank you, this is so kind of you" you smiled, taking the flowers off him. Indicating for him to come inside with you.

He admired his new surroundings as he looked around your house, you were loudly filling up the clear vase before placing them on the table. Your radio played quietly in the background, your favourite French show as the evening sun illuminated the room.

"oh, Tu parle Française? his voice was hot and seductive as slipped so naturally into French with a curious smile.

"Ah oui, je venir du France et toi?" you leant against the counter, closer to him as you scanned his face.

"Je venir du France et Etas-Uni" he smiled at you, the light was bouncing off his eyes as his smile spread across his face.

"Ah tres gentile, voulez-vous un tea" you waved the kettle in front of him, raising your eyebrows slightly as he nodded.

Staring at him as you waited for it to boil, it took you off guard that this stranger was speaking French back to you. Pouring the tea into the cups, you slid it in front of him. Watching him gaze between you, the tea and your garden.

''vous avez une mini ferme dans votre jardin, ma femme n’aime pas les animaux'' his voice seemed sadder as he dipped his head to stare at the contents of the mug with a sigh.

''oh non, je suis désolé. Eh bien vous pouvez avoir certains de mes oeufs de poulets quand'' you laughed with him as he raised his head from his mug.

"ahah, merci beaucoup" still laughing into his cup as your eyes locked with his.

You continued talking until he noticed your wall clock behind you that struck 6PM, he threw his coat on quickly and made his way towards the door. Turning to face you in the hallway,

"J'aimerais mieux to connaitre'' his voice was breathless and quick as he dashed out the door into the evening.

Leaving you stunned from your second brief encounter with this handsome stranger called 'Steve'.

You thought about him all night, tossing and turning to the thought of him. Waking up in cold sweat as you imagined what his lips would feel on yours, the way his body would cling to yours from behind.

The next morning you followed your usual routine for work, humming to yourself in the garden when you heard his familiar voice.

“ Morning miss, how are you today?” His voice was cheery as he shouted over the fence towards you.

Your chest fluttered as you found your legs in a pool of dampness, struggling to say anything coherent. Your cheeks flushing red as you clutched onto your egg basket, lifting it up above the fence.

“Uh, yes. Just collecting my eggs, do you want any?” Cursing yourself as you suddenly thought what you just asked.

“Only if you’re offering” he winked at you before making his way inside.

Once alone in your garden, you cursed under your breath at your own annoyance. Bringing the eggs inside, you quickly tidied yourself up but the sound of the bell ring through the house.

Swinging the door open with a smile, his sunglasses were perched on the top of his head as it shone behind him. Dazzling his pretty smile at you as you invited him in, the eggs were sat neatly on your kitchen counter.

He examined them as you waved towards the kettle, nodding with a laugh.

“You drink a lot of tea don’t you?” He seemed amused as he picked up the eggs and weighed them in his hands.

“I guess I do” you shrugged not thinking anything of it as you placed his tea down in front of you.

Your hands met as you exchanged the mugs between you, gasping as sparks flew up your arms. Giggling as you tried to distract yourself to avoid any embarrassment but to your surprise, he pulled your hand back on his.

Unable to fight the urge to pull your hand away, in those moments it felt oddly good to have his fingers play with yours.

Forgetting in that moment that he had a life beyond sitting at your kitchen counter.

You spent an hour talking to him with your hands and playing with each other until your work alarm sounded across the house from your bedroom. Gasping in shock, you rushed into the bedroom and slammed it off. Composing yourself slightly before you reentered the kitchen with an embarrassing smile, your cheeks flushed red.

"Sorry! I have to be getting to work now" you sheepishly spoke as you clipped on your bike helmet. Feeling ridiculous as he stood there and watched you.

"Where do you have to go? I can drive you" he asked, without even worrying.

You blinked at him a few time before slowly taking off the helmet and placing it down,

"Are you sure?" you felt bad, making him drive you. But it felt natural as he nodded and led the way outside.

Instructing you to wait on your drive for a moment, the sunlight shining in your eyes as you did as you were told. You heard faint voices over the high hedge rows that separated each house before the loud rumble of his black BMW rolled past your drive.

You took a deep breath in and looked around at your surroundings before climbing inside. His car was clean and smelt good, the seats were cream leather as you sat next to him.

"Thank you again for this, I really appreciate it" you blushed after thanking him profusely.

"tu es la bienvenue jolie fille'' he spoke smoothly, his hand slipping down from the steering wheel and stroking yours for a second.

His eyes drawing you, unable to do anything but stutter. The compliment alone made you flush, but the touch of his hand was stained on yours.

Your eyes followed the curves and features of his body in the sun, the flicks of brown hair that were clearly over-gelled. His faint tan lines reached just up to his short sleeve t-shirt, and his almost non-existent freckles that had just begun appearing on his face.

He was beautiful.

Wanting to continue following his features down his body, you were disappointed when he came to a stop. Turning to face you with a smirk, bringing you out of your trance.

"I think we are here" that smooth calm voice filled your ears once again. Grinning at you as his hands touched yours again.

"Well thank you again, Mr. Harrington?" you questioned whether you had his surname right as you gathered your belongings in your arms.

"Call me Steve" he smiled at you, catching you off guard as he reached over your body to open the door. His face inches away from yours, his breath tickling your neck, you dared to turn your head.

Mixed feelings of wanting to feel his lips on yours but not wanting to embarrass yourself. Chuckling as the door swung open and you jumped out, hearing him curse under his breath.

You felt silly as you stood and waved him away from the entrance, the rush of adrenaline of being so close to him was flying through your veins. Your legs hot and sticky as you coated your underwear from such a rush.

The morning flew by, after completing the necessary tasks that you were requested to do. You decided to have your break, walking towards the front desk the receptionist Bethany called you over.

"There is a gentleman here for you, he said his name was Steve and he wanted to take you out for lunch'' she giggled, as she subtly pointed to the man sitting on the Karak green chairs.

That rush of feelings built up inside you once again as you straightened out your outfit, checked your makeup in your small compact mirror, and walked toward him. Clearing your throat to get his attention, watching as he jumped at once with that dazzling smile.

Motioning for you to lead first, you noticed that in the glass reflection, he was checking you out. Smirking to yourself as you continued to walk ahead until you reached his car. He once again leaned over you and opened your door, his lips practically grazing your cheek as he smiled.

He extended his free hand out for you and taking it you breathlessly climbed up, his eyes dropped onto your tights just below your skirt before meeting your eyes with a wink and shutting the door behind you.

The drive was silent as he stole glances your way, the radio played quickly in the background as he drove further away from your work. Your curiosity grew and grew until he stopped outside a quaint but fancy looking restaurant.

Helping you down out of his car, you clumsily tripped on the last step and fell into his arms. Breathing in his scent as your face brushed against his chest, his laugh vibrated against yours as you looked up at him.

Staring at each other for a moment, your eyes scanning between your lips and cheeks. After regaining more control, you pulled yourself from under him with embarrassment and stood next to him.

Not wanting to push the boundaries even more, he brushed past your hand as he strode ahead.

The restaurant was dimly lit and cosy, minimal daylight streamed through the small windows. A fireplace roared between two rooms, there was a mixture of comfy chairs, bar stools, and wooden chairs. After debating how far away from the fire to sit, he chose the seating area in the corner.

Pulling out your chair, his breath tickled your hair as he pushed you back underneath the table. His hands slid down the wooden beams reaching the tiny bit of skin that you had exposed, listening to a small gasp fall from your lips.

Smirking as he walked back round the table to face you, his brown eyes stared at back you. Clearing your throat, you grasped onto the menu and hid your face with a smile.

He was polite and kind as you sat at the table making fun of the fake French that was scattered across the menu.

When the waiter arrived, Steve attempted to communicate with the waiter in French much to his avail he was unsuccessful. Rolling his eyes at you before repeating the order in English, just to hear you giggle.

Once the food was eaten and you were significantly late back to work, he paid the bill much to your protests.

The car drive back to your office building was lively and talkative, you enjoyed getting to know your new neighbour. As he pulled over outside the entrance, your hand on the lever as he slipped a white card inside your spare hand with a smile.

Jumping out of the car, you turned to face him through the glass. He motioned the call sign with the words “call me”, making you laugh lightly before turning away.

Your cheeks flushed red as you walked through the office, Bethany the receptionist pulled a teasing face as she pointed at the time. Rolling your eyes with a smile, you continued walking. Not wanting to entertain her anymore than you already have.

The rest of the day went by quickly, glancing endlessly at his pristine business card in your hand. The print of his hands touching your body still tingled as you typed away at your computer.

Not realising until it was too late, that he was your only way home. The office was empty and eerily dark as you punched in the number off his business card, gulping as you anxiously waited for his voice.

It came after a painfully long wait, your hands were slightly shaking as more of the lights had been turned off inside. His reassuring words of “I’m sorry, I forgot that you don’t have a ride home. I will be there as soon as I can”.

He was kind, mysterious, and sexy.

You thought about him as you waited outside in the cold, it was dark on the pavement. The orange glow of a few broken streetlights flickered around you, the hum of his car finally arriving closer and closer.

Leaning forward as the car still ran and shouted “get in”, hurrying to be somewhere warm. You clambered up the steps of his car, shivering on his front seat until he blasted the heating.

Glancing over at you every now and then as he flew down the roads, getting further away from the city and closer to home.

“You called me just at the right time, I was in my office. Would you like to get something to eat?” He turned to look at you, your jacket had fallen down onto the seat.

“What now? You want to eat with me again?” You questioned, trying to hide the slight excitement and exhaustion in your voice.

“I do, of course, I do” He smiled, mumbling the last part. You didn’t hear it as your eyes watched the streetlights fly past.

“Okay then, you’re clearly not bored by me yet” you giggled and blushed meeting his eyes in the reflection.

He drove past the junction to the village, driving you both away from any known civilization. Anxiety and excitement filled your veins, rubbing your legs together in the chair. He sensed your mixed feelings, twitching at the touch of his cool hand on your thigh.

“We’re nearly there now” his calm and soft voice soothing you, as his thumb rubbed in circular motions on your skin with a smile.

Your legs were still bouncing as he continued to drive, accidentally causing his hand to slip down to your inner thigh. Your mouth made an ‘’op’’ noise as his hand grazed your underwear, laughing sheepishly as he slowly moved his hand back up to the steering wheel.

Neither of you spoke after the close incident, your thighs still tingling from the touch of him. Clenching them tight together, you focused your attention on the faint lighting ahead. It began to rain heavily against the front window of the car, resting your head against the passenger window you watched as the building got closer and closer.

He helped you out of the car, lifting up his heavy brown coat above both of your heads. Forcing you to be close to him, the strong smell of his faint cologne sent you into a trance. Gazing you up at him as the coat began to get drenched from the rain, you giggled as he picked the quick pace into the lobby of the restaurant.

Sighing with relief at the warm air from inside, hanging up his wet coat on the coat rack that was standing behind you. Wondering if it was an excuse to lean over you again, maybe he had the same feeling as he smelt your faint perfume. You hoped so.

The glass double doors were opened to be greeted by the host waiter with a smile.

“Ah, hello again. Mr. Harrington, would you like your usual table?’’ the host smiled, collecting two menus in his hand. Steve nodded, subtly slipping a note with a wink at you.

You felt somewhat special as you were led to the table almost instantly, it was secluded similar to the table from lunchtime. His watch flashed in the candlelight that separated you both, as you looked at your surroundings you noticed that this table was the only one with a candle. Maybe there was a reason.

It got cosy as his legs kicked yours, your famous giggle echoed across to him as he made a joke. His hands reached across the table as he picked up his wine glass, looking at you seductively.

“So? Where does your wife think you are?” your fingers played with the rim of the glass, swirling

Saving your questions for later, you began to tuck into your food. His eyes drifted towards you as your sucked in pieces of pasta between your lips, at that same moment his leg slid up your thigh. Slightly ripping a line in your black shein tights, gasping as he kicked your legs apart under the table.

You ducked your head as your cheeks grew hot.

“Look at me” his voice was hot and demanding, prying your legs open in the middle of the restaurant. Your eyes met his with a smirk and a red fast.

You found it hot that you barely knew him but somehow he could make you feel so intense.

He waved over the waiter, insisting on the bill as you finished up the last of your pasta. His feet were still keeping your legs open underneath the table, waiting patiently until you were able to get some air.

After he paid once again for the meal, he helped you into your jacket. The rain had stopped as he opened the door for you, watching you elegantly pass by him.

You drunkenly climbed into the passenger seat, kicking your legs against the fabric playfully. He started the car, his hand automatically slid back to its rightful place on your thigh. Stroking your skin with his thigh, his wrist watch was cool as he squeezed it making you squeal under your breath.

As he drove over the speed bumps of the carpark, his hand slipped closer to your underwear causing your breath to hitch. Suddenly, he removed his hand from your skin making you miss the way his finger felt stroking your underwear.

You waited for him to place his back on your thigh but it never came, making you pout sadly out the window as he sped through the back lanes. As he pulled up to your house, you began to get nervous not wanting the day to end.

He turned to you with a smirk, his wrist watch twinkled in the light of your house. Maybe it was the wine but you wanted to take him inside and have him manhandle you.

“I had a wonderful night with you, I’m sad that has come to an end” his voice was lower as he leaned closer to you, his hands took a piece of your hair and twirled it between his fingers.

“Me too, maybe we should do it again” you stuttered as his lips touched your cheek, kissing your skin for as long as he could before hovering over your face.

You wanted to stay with him for longer but you decided to get out of the car, your cheek was still tingling from where his lips had been. The cool air hit your face as you wandered around the car, pausing at the drivers side. His window was down waiting for you, his hand was dangling against the metal with his pinky finger extended. You searched around before latching your fingers together, he pulled you closer so your faces were almost touching again.

“I’ll be outside tomorrow to take you to work” he whispered in your ear watching your face flushed, meeting his eyes as he nodded.

Letting you go, he winked at you before you bounced off inside. He stayed outside until you paused at the front door and waved with a smile. The sound of his car humming next door was heard as you wandered upstairs, your dogs were asleep at the edge of the bed peacefully. You sighed and collapsed onto your bed, he never left your mind.

#richboy!steve #richboy!steve harrington #marriedsteve!harrington #married!richsteve #marriedrich!steve #mistress!fem!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader smut #steve harrington x fem!reader fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader

86 notes · View notes

bitterbrained · 2 days

Text

𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐬 ―

an introduction.

NAME malcolm angus hayes NICKNAMES mac + mal + hayes AGE thirty-seven DATE OF BIRTH november 29th ZODIAC sagittarius sun + cancer moon + capricorn rising OCCUPATION coach + trainer at level four gym AFFILIATION enforcer for the mata haris HOMETOWN dundee, scotland TIME IN JAPAN five years

STRENGTHS honest + loyal + compassionate + principled + down-to-earth WEAKNESSES impulsive + reactive + stubborn + aggressive + disorganized

CHARACTER PARALLELS luke glanton ( the place beyond the pines ) + lincoln burrows ( prison break ) + daryl dixon ( walking dead ) + lip gallagher ( shameless ) + murtagh fraser ( outlander ) + jax teller ( sons of anarchy ) + brendan conlon ( warrior )

A BRIEF HISTORY.

trigger warnings: mentions of violence + drugs + physical assault + sex trafficking + implied sexual assault + murder ― reader discretion advised.

▷ born on the wrong side of a cold, damp city in southeast scotland, malcolm hayes enters this world an accident. a mistake. the result of a faulty contraceptive and a night of good, cheap fun? a missed period and a panic attack in the cramped single-serve bathroom stall of the convenience shop down the block. and, nine months later, a baby boy. his father surely has no plans of raising him, not beyond evading what meager payments the county requires of him, and his mother ― a young woman by the name of bonnie baird, a dancer at one of the clubs in town a few nights a week to get by ― struggles to get by. but she does. as an infant, he spends nights in a car seat in the back of the club, babbling at the dancers as they breeze by. a warning. there will be no baby fever here. she does her best to raise him, though, and he may grow up knowing struggle, but not for a lack of effort on her part.

▷ malcolm is only twelve years old when the trajectory of his life changes drastically and permanently on what would otherwise be a normal tuesday morning. he learns he has a brother. and, more than that, this brother is coming to live with him and his mum. jericho hayes, for as young as he is, invites pure and unadulterated chaos through the door the moment he scurries inside ; like a wild animal trapped in an enclosure, he lashes out. breaks things. malcolm understands this better than most, he thinks. he's angry too, after all. but his own rage is a quiet one, not so much dormant as it is deep-seated ― an acrid, pulsating heat that lives in in his core and swells with each day he learns a little more of the world. but he doesn't know his younger brother's anger ― he still has his mum, after all, seldom as he sees her ― and cannot condemn it. he doesn't try to housebreak the kid, but he does decide he'll look out for him the best he can. he didn't have anyone looking out for him, after all, and he wonders sometimes if maybe it wouldn't have helped.

▷ as much as malcolm tries to raise jericho, at the end of the day, the truth is that both of the hayes boys are raised by the streets. he drops out of school when he's fifteen. tall, strong, and hard-working, it's not hard to find work. but stocking shelves or getting a gig down at the shipyard don't cut it and he knows that. he tries for a while, but he's got bills to pay if he wants to help his mum ( and get her off the goddamn streets because he's old enough now to understand what she feels like she's got to do to try and provide for the two of them and he wants to put an end to it ) and make sure they've got more than just a roof over their head but enough food on their table to not go to bed hungry, enough hot water to actually feel clean. and he needs a car, too, fuck, because his mum surely hasn't had one in years.

▷ his mum tries her best to be discreet about her business and keep it out of the house as much as she can, malcolm sees this, but that doesn't mean men don't come through tracking mud day in and day out. malcolm recognizes a few, faces he sees more often ― at least a couple of times a week. one day, one of these men offers him a job. it's a simple one. deliver a package a couple of towns over for him. that's easy enough, he figures, but he doesn't have a car. no matter, they provide one for him. he doesn't ask what's in the package, just drops it off at the address he's been told. but he can't drive the car back. ❛ oh, and take this permit. leave yours. ❜ it seems strange, but there's a ticket for the rail on his phone before he's even got the time to question it. when he gets home, malcolm is paid in cash. a fair bit more than he's expecting, too. he's asked, would he like to do it again? the answer is yes. absolutely, he would.

▷ it doesn't take long for malcolm to figure out what he's delivering. he's not stupid. but after a few smooth runs, he's convinced himself it's a risk he's willing to take. how's he going to get caught? he's never been flashy. first thing he does once the cash flow starts to feel secure is buy a car, but it's not much of a sight to behold, even so : a dingy silver volkswagen that's got two years on him, but the wear isn't bad and the deal is even better. malcolm doesn't pretend to know much, but he suspects it's the perfect incognito vehicle and even says as much the next time he sees his boss. he's instructed to continue the vehicles provided and dropping them off at the disclosed locations. that's less toll on his own car and his pay's only getting better, so malcolm doesn't ask questions. for now, he thinks, the less he knows, the better. and he knows enough for the time being. sometimes, he takes jericho with him, if for no other reason than the knowledge he's not wreaking havoc in his absence. and if anyone's got issue, no one ever says shit to him for it.

▷ a few more years and malcolm might not know everything, but he knows a hell of a lot more. so it goes something like this : each time he goes on a run, he's getting a rented car ( and at this point, he's the one renting the cars ) from a dealership in any one of a handful of local cities under false credentials. he takes that car to the designated drop off location ― they're further now, all of them, and each run can take him an upwards of a day or more with several stops along the way ― and once all of his product has been dropped and payment collected, he ditches his fake documents and grabs the first train that'll take him close enough to dundee, and there's someone waiting to pick him up the moment he steps off. standing at well over six feet tall and broad enough to eclipse near anyone who might stand in front of him, he seldom requires backup. less people, less mess.

▷ for a while, life actually seems like it might be pretty fucking good. trying to be smart about his shit means living within his means so he can dig his mum out of debt, and he does. in fact, he starts providing for her so she doesn't have to work at all. for the first time in what malcolm can only imagine is decades, she can know peace. and so, too, can he ― because he meets a woman. and he doesn't just meet her, either, he falls in love. he's not ever been able to maintain something serious, not before now, but there's something about her that makes an honest man out of him. well, as honest as a criminal can be. it's a shotgun wedding, but malcolm knows he would've married her either way. the only difference is now he's got a wife and a son. bonnie never thought she'd live to see herself become a grandmother, and she spoils the grandchild that carries her son's name with more affection than she ever had the time or energy to devote to him and jer. malcolm fears this might make him angry, jealous, but it actually serves as a salve for his spirit. it heals something in him.

▷ the law finally catches up with malcolm on the eve of his twenty-sixth birthday. it's a raid and nobody is prepared. he's not even meant to be there, for fuck's sake ― he was supposed to be out on a run, but they've given him a night to get pissed and celebrate and sent docherty out in his place, lucky prick ― and yet, he's sat absolutely fucking plastered on the sofa in the center of it all when the damn polis come kicking down the door. when it's all said and done, they manage to snag him and six of his brothers. malcolm doesn't try to fight when they throw him in the back of a van, not once they've already got him. even drunk, he knows better ― he's not trying to aggravate more charges, and outside of existing in the wrong place at the wrong time that night, he knows they don't got shit on him.

▷ or, at least, that's what he thinks. turns out, they've got enough small, bullshit charges stacked against malcolm to lock him up for five years. of everyone that got busted that night, he manages to land the shortest sentence ― without a word against anyone, either, he's no snitch ― and even so, it seems his entire world manages to go to shit while he's on the inside. jericho gets into fighting ( and really, good on him, malcolm thinks, because the boy needs a consistent outlet for his excitability and anger ) and he's proud, but his leaving while malcolm's serving time means there's nobody at home to look out for his mum. she's got to go back to work, too ; he can't support her from the inside, not like he used to, and anybody he'd ask to keep eyes on her while he's in got thrown into the back of the same damn wagon.

▷ now, he doesn't know exactly what happened while he was on the inside ― only what his wife would tell him when she'd visit, but after a while even she stopped visiting, wouldn't pick up his calls, and for the last two years of his sentence, malcolm might as well have been getting radio silence from the outside world ― but he knows that when he gets out, it's not to a ride or a welcome home from a friend or a family member, but to the news that his mum's dead. been dead, as a matter of fact, for something like a couple of years. and wouldn't you know, not a single fucking soul seems to know what happened to her? malcolm finds that hard to believe. his wife and kid are gone, too, whole house boarded up. are those two things connected? couldn't say. for some reason, nobody wants to tell malcolm shit. that's fine. when's he ever relied on anybody but himself anyway?

▷ while he was locked up, malcolm tried to work on himself. figured it was the right thing to do ― learning how to practice patience, tolerance. and wouldn't you know he actually did a pretty damn good job of it? unfortunately, it turns out he can't seem to recall any-fucking-thing about forgiveness when it's his family on the line. all that growth? out the fucking door. he has to break in to his old house to get the emergency supplies he'd left stashed in the floorboards of the washroom long before he got busted, but it's all still there. the money, the documents. the gun. he pays in cash for a cheap motel room and works up a plan over a bottle of whisky. a few hours later, he breezes into a meeting ( his invitation to which has clearly been revoked ) and decides to shoot first, ask questions never. not like any of the fuckers were inclined to answer him the first time he asked, were they? seven men go down, security included. as he inspects their bodies in the aftermath, malcolm realizes he recognizes maybe half. the only face that really matters though, the bastard that used to pimp out his mother? he's there. malcolm unloads a few more rounds into him for good measure before making his exit.

▷ when he gets back to his room, he spends an hour in a scalding shower and tries to figure out the new plan from here. he needs to leave. if he stays, they'll find him and kill him. he may be wily, but he'll be lucky if he lasts a month. but he doesn't have anybody left in dundee, and he's barely got any money. what he does have is a phone number, and he doesn't even know if it'll ring after all these years or if his little brother has gotten a new one while he's been gone. it's a different kind of relief he feels when jericho picks up on the other line. little shit didn't even know he was supposed to be getting out. malcolm can't even be mad, though. how could he know? he doesn't like to make a habit of asking for handouts, for help, but if there's anyone he can trust, he knows it's jericho. kid's in japan now, says there's a job open there he could probably snatch up and he'll wire him some money, send him a ticket. it's more than malcolm could ever ask for, but it's also not something he's in any position to refuse. within twelve hours, he's in an airport, and he spends the flight to japan falsifying certifications that make him look more than qualified for the job. ( don't ask where he got the laptop, alright? he'll send it back to the original owner when he can, there's an address on the case. )

▷ malcolm ends up staying with with jericho for a few weeks after he gets to japan, long enough to get on his feet once he's secured the coaching position at level four gym. and coaching his own brother, no less ― he's just as hard-headed and volatile as malcolm remembers, but he'll be damned if he didn't miss it. it doesn't take long for him to get his own place, though, if for no other reason than that he doesn't need much. his flat is a tiny hole in the wall, one he's got to duck through the doorway to get into, but it's enough. it also happens to be located close enough to heaven's night that malcolm stumbles across the mata haris by chance ― he thinks he'd call it fate. the loss of his mother is still fresh when he finds them and their cause is one that strikes a chord close to his heart. it feels like the purpose he needs ; and, more than that, it feels like a way to honor his mother. ( had she been scared? did she yell out for help? did she yell out for him? ) to give support to a voice she never had. malcolm gives his life to the mata haris, all of his spare time and attention ; he is their muscle, a guard dog at their beck and call. and they almost fill the gnawing, gaping void in his chest left not only by his mum, but by his wife. his son. but much like searching for a needle in a haystack, he doesn't begin to know where to look for them. she never said a word. so he keeps his head down and tries to focus on the now. he's doing good. he's doing better. christ, it's just so hard to leave the past behind sometimes.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

▷ to be added.

#𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐌 𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐒 | intro #anarchicintro.#the way this actually got so obscenely long #it's literally all i've been working on today #thank u kit for the graphic ilysm ??#anyway one down one to go

7 notes · View notes

northern-passage · 1 year

Text

"What are you thinking about?"

The question startles you - lost in your own head, you push off the railing, blinking down at the ocean waves as they roll beneath the icy dock.

Merry leans her hip against the railing at your side, crossing her arms as she waits for your answer.

"I don't know," you admit, avoiding her gaze. "Thinking about… something I can't quite remember," you say slowly, staring down at your hands.

That gets a noncommittal sound out of her. She turns to look out over the water, too, folding her hands in front of her, her elbows pressed against the railing.

"The sea does that to you," she says then, and you both lapse into silence, the docks swaying beneath you, the sky darkening overhead as the sun sets over the horizon.

Merry slides closer to you after a while, leaning against you, and you glance over at her to see her fidgeting with the ring hanging from her neck. She catches your eye, quickly tucking the ring back beneath her shirt and turning away.

"What are you thinking about?" you prompt, and it just gets you an annoyed look.

"Come on. It's getting late," she snaps, ignoring your question, and you sigh, pushing off the railing and following after her as she leads you from the docks and back into the city proper.

You move through back streets and dark alleys, keeping your head down as Merry guides you back to the shoddy inn you're staying in. You haven't run into any soldiers just yet, but you're not willing to push your luck. It's bad enough as it is.

Back at the inn, the others are already turned in for the evening, though you do check in briefly with Lea before making your way to your own room. There's not much else to do - you're meant to be laying low, hiding out in this shitty port city and avoiding the parade of soldiers passing up along the coast. But you're getting rather restless - and so is everyone else, for that matter.

You let out a long sigh, reluctantly preparing for bed, and it's a few more hours still until you are able to fall asleep, tossing and turning in your bed, listening to the distant ocean waves outside.

You don't get to sleep for long, though. A pounding on your door wakes you up, and you intend to ignore it, burying your face in your pillow - but minutes pass, and it doesn't stop.

"What the fuck," you hiss, throwing off your blankets and stomping across the room.

You rip the door open, scowling out into the hallway to see Merry.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" you snap, but she just shoves her way through the door, shouldering past you and stopping short in front of your fireplace.

For a despairing moment you think she might be drunk - but when she looks back over at you she is very clearly not, her eye sharp as she glares at you.

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you!" she jabs a finger at you, and you just raise your hands, bewildered at her anger.

There's a sudden uncertainty that flickers across her face then, and she drops her hand, blinking over at you, taking a step back and shaking her head. You wait for her to say something - but she doesn't, instead turning back around to stare into the fire.

"What do you want, Merry?" you prompt, a little gentler this time, though your agitation is still apparent - you can't help it. When she still doesn't say anything, you begin to feel a little less forgiving.

"Merry." You take a step towards her, your voice hard. "Gods, you always do this," you scoff then, and that gets her to at least look at you again.

"How are you going to come in here like this and still stonewall me?"

"What were you thinking about earlier? At the docks?" she says after a long moment.

You blink, stunned into silence at the absurdity of it.

"What - Merry, I told you," you shake your head, running your hand over your face. "Is that what this is about? Have you just been stewing about that all night? I wasn't thinking about anything."

"I was thinking about you," she says softly, and you're stunned back into silence again, but only for a moment, before your anger returns.

"Yeah? Not Ronan?"

You think she's going to hit you for that, and maybe you'd deserve it.

"No. Ronan…" she starts, seems to consider her words for a moment - and then she does lunge at you, grabbing the front of your shirt, both of you staggering across the room until you bump into the corner table. But she stops short of anything else, just staring at her hands, at the straining fabric bundled in her fists.

"Ronan," she starts again, her voice tight, "I'm not ready to talk about Ronan yet."

That's the most she's ever even said about it - you still don't even know who Ronan is. Or was. Important enough to get their name tattooed on her neck, though. For her to still wear a ring around her neck. Merry drops her gaze then, and you reach up to put a hand over one of hers, her grip loosening on your shirt.

"I was thinking about you. What's going to happen when all of this is over," she says slowly, and then she lets go of you, pulling her hands back, your own hand dropping back to your side.

You realize then that she's leaving, reaching for the door, and you quickly step after her, grabbing her wrist without thinking.

"Merry, wait-" you barely say her name before she's spinning around, grabbing your shirt again, only this time she pulls you toward her instead of pushing you away, your bodies colliding and pressing together, one of her hands moving to grasp at the back of your neck and urge you even closer. You search her face, watching as she licks her lips, your breaths intermingling before you close the remaining space between you.

The kiss is rough, Merry's hand tightening as your own hands grasp at her hips, both of you tripping over each other as you move towards your bed. Her lips are soft, warm and wet against yours, and she teases you with her tongue, tasting you before she pulls back, dropping down onto the bed and dragging you after her.

You barely manage to catch yourself, hands on either side of her head as she reaches down to pull at your trousers. Your breath hitches as her knuckles brush against your bare stomach, her eye watching your face, your reaction, flicking to your lips as you lean closer.

She lets go of your trousers as you kiss her again, instead slipping her hands beneath your shirt, reaching up and dragging her nails down your back, the sharp pain getting a hiss of pleasure out of you. Merry's lips move against yours, and she swallows the sound with her own, moaning low in the back of her throat as you shift on top of her, your bodies pressed flush together, her heart beating loudly against yours.

She says your name then, turning her head slightly, and you pull back, breathless as you look down at her, her hands still trailing up and down your back, tracing the muscle there, her touch lighter as she skims over old scars. She presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, one more against the jagged scar along your jaw, and then she takes a deep breath, retracting her hands from beneath your shirt and rolling out from under you, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

You don't move, your breath caught in your throat, and you expect her to get up and leave then - as abrupt as she had arrived. You're burning under your clothes, her touch still lingering on your back, the prick of her nails no doubt leaving long red lines carved into your skin.

"Merry?" you say softly, sitting back on the bed, and she turns back to look at you over her shoulder, though the look she gives you indecipherable. Her breathing is still a little ragged, and she leans forward for a moment, as if to stand - but instead she lays back on the bed, reaching over to give you a very uncharacteristic kiss, your eyes fluttering closed as she cradles your face in her hands. She pushes you down against the pillows then, straddles your lap, pinning you beneath her with her hand moving to your throat.

You reach up to grab her arm, stroking the soft skin of her inner wrist with your thumb, feeling her pulse jump at the touch. And then the moment passes - whatever weird feeling constricting in your chest is replaced with the very familiar feeling of want as she pushes her weight down on you, her hand tightening around your throat, licking her lips as she leans in close and resumes the earlier urgency between you as if nothing had happened at all.

You can't ignore it later, though, when she thinks you're asleep, extracting herself from your arms and moving to sit on the edge of the bed again. You feel the mattress shift as she stands, hear her move around the room, collecting her clothes you both had enthusiastically discarded earlier. She gets dressed, pulls her boots back on, and then you hear her put a few logs on the fire - before the door opens and closes, leaving you all alone.

#starting a day early because im impatient #i've had these all finished for at least a week now im dying #also i Have to do them in a certain order and this way Lea's snippet will post the same day as their art on patreon #merry harlowe #snippets #the theme this year is Angst i guess if that gives you some warning about how these are going to go #ok nevermind im not filtering these w the mature label tumblr just fucking nukes it out of existance #nsft #will be the new tag

109 notes · View notes

allmoshnobrain · 10 months

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 13 of ? | masterpost

word count: 2785 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

I let myself get lost in the warmth of his embrace and his touch, forgetting about the nagging thought that he would soon be leaving. I couldn't help but recall earlier, when I was told I "loved too much." Maybe there was some truth to it because right then, I loved him so much that I'd do anything he asked - even ditch my plans of not going with him to New York.

✦ summary: Dave and Nore cherish their last day together before the band’s departure to New Jersey.

✦ on this chapter: NSFW!!!, dave mustaine x female!oc,oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst (mild), fluff, mxf sex (explicit), recreational drug use

✦ a/n: this is my attempt at writing a cute/romantic chapter for dave and nore before things start changing and chaos comes. hope you like it, feedback is welcome!

✧ kiss me hard before you go ✧

The afternoon of my date with Dave started off cool, with a nice breeze that wasn't enough to make us feel cold. We took the opportunity to have lunch together and then catch a movie. Despite everything, I felt happy. I tried not to dwell on the fact that it would be our last day together for a while, as Dave and the guys were leaving the next day. But even with that in mind, it was nice to have some alone time with him. It was a new thing for me since we usually had fun with our friends, whether we were hitting up the bar or partying after their shows.

"So, what's the plan now?" I asked as we left the cinema.

It was still early, with the sun slowly setting in the sky. I knew we were heading to the beach cottage Dave had rented later in the evening, but for now, I let him take the lead on what we should do. He pulled out a joint, taking leisurely puffs before passing it to me.

"I've got a cool idea. Come with me," he said, flashing a warm smile as he held my hand.

I couldn't help but smile as our fingers intertwined. After almost two months of being together, these little affectionate moments had become part of our routine. Maybe part of why their upcoming absence, even if just for a while, bothered me so much was because I couldn't imagine life without Dave by my side. Being without him was something I didn't even want to think about anymore.

We strolled through the city, chatting and laughing while passing the joint that Dave had brought along. As the sun started to set, we ended up at a small amusement park near the beach, with the rides lit up and twinkling in the twilight. Families and groups of teenagers were having fun, enjoying the late afternoon.

"An amusement park?" I grinned at him. He returned the smile, clearly seeing the excitement in my eyes. "It's been forever since I've hit up a place like this!"

"I figured it'd be a cool place to hang out with you," he said. "Hey, wanna jump on that Ferris wheel?"

"Sure thing." I flashed a grin.

He took my hand and led me to the line, which luckily wasn't too long. After a few minutes, we hopped into one of the cabins and settled in next to each other. I burst out laughing as we started going up, and he sparked up another joint.

"Dave! I don't think we can smoke up here."

"Who cares?" he smirked, making my heart skip a beat. I playfully rolled my eyes, grinning back at him. He brought the joint closer to my lips, and I took a drag. His thumb traced the outline of my lip. "You know, it's not too late to change your mind, right?"

"About what?" I asked, curiosity taking over as I glanced away from the view, which was getting higher and higher.

"About coming with us tomorrow."

I chuckled softly.

"Dave, I already told Lea I'm crashing at her place for a while. It's all good." I held his hand, gently stroking it. "But you know I'll be right here when you get back, right?"

He smiled, a hint of disappointment in his eyes, but then kissed my forehead tenderly.

"You're trouble, you know that?" he whispered, and I laughed.

"What are you on about now?"

"That I can't stay away from you," he said, his lips meeting mine in a kiss. He pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. "I think I'm addicted. And that's a dangerous thing."

"Well, what if I told you I feel the same way?" I whispered, gazing into his eyes.

"Then I'd say I'm damn lucky," he replied with a smile, before leaning in to kiss me again.

We made the most of the late afternoon, jumping on all the awesome park rides. From the goofiest carousel to the craziest roller coaster, everything was way more fun when we were together. Even though we'd been dating for a while, I still couldn't believe how much I was head over heels for Dave, how effortlessly he brought me joy, and how damn lucky I was that he felt the same way about me.

By the time we left the park, it was dark outside. The electric lights of the rides lazily blinked in green, yellow, red, and blue. I gotta admit, things seemed way more intriguing to watch after an afternoon of smoking — everything took on new shapes, colors popping in a whole different way. I casually glanced at a group of teens cracking up and chatting as they strolled out of a tent covered in blue and white stars.

"Predict your future with Madame Vasilova," Dave read the sign next to the tent entrance, a smirk on his face. "Wanna give it a shot?"

"No way," I replied, grinning back at him and raising an eyebrow. "You're not gonna ask her some cheesy question like if we'll be together forever, right?"

He burst out laughing.

"Nah, are you? C'mon, I know that cute look on your face when you're curious."

I chuckled as he grabbed my hand and dragged me into the tent. I blinked, adjusting my eyes to the dim lighting and taking in the smell of incense. Madame Vasilova sat at the table, an old lady with a serious expression. She looked up as she shuffled her cards.

"First time?" she asked, a smile on her face. She had a heavy accent that matched her name. "Have a seat."

I sat down on the chair in front of her while Dave stood next to me, clearly intrigued by the whole scene.

"Hmm... I don't know what to ask," I admitted. The lady grinned.

"Don't need to ask anything. Just pick three cards," she said, spreading out the deck face down. I glanced at the cards, curious, and randomly grabbed three. She gathered the rest of the deck and laid out the chosen cards: The Lovers. The Hanged Man. The Wheel of Fortune. She pursed her lips, slowly running her fingers over the cards before starting to talk. "You've got a big heart, my dear. Someone who loves too much. But that can also bring pain to the soul. Important choices are coming your way... They'll shape your life. Choose wisely."

"Thanks," I mumbled, unsure how to react to that information.

She simply smiled at me. I pulled out a few bucks from my purse and paid her, and then Dave and I stepped out of the tent.

"Well, that was... different," I remarked, and Dave chuckled softly.

"Yeah, I guess it's normal. Those people always say these confusing things."

"And you didn't even want to ask anything!" I pointed out, and he chuckled.

"Yeah, I figured I didn't want to ask if we'd be together forever or not. What if she said you were gonna dump me?"

I huffed and rolled my eyes.

"I'd make her swallow that whole deck of cards," I grumbled, and Dave burst into laughter.

"That's my girl," he playfully said, planting a kiss on my forehead. "You hungry? Let's grab some dinner, and then we can head to the cottage later."

"Sounds good. I'm starving anyway," I grinned, holding his hand tightly.

The beachfront restaurants were pleasant and beautiful. We picked one that didn't seem too expensive and snagged an outdoor table. The night was getting cooler; even though it was spring, now that the sun was gone, the late afternoon breeze made me shiver a bit from the cold.

Once we finished eating, we strolled along the beach promenade, hand in hand, enjoying the cool night breeze and chatting softly. It didn't take us long to reach the cottage, a cozy little house tucked near the beach. I had no clue how Dave managed to afford the place; all I knew was that he adamantly refused when I offered to chip in.

He unlocked the door, and I walked in, flipping on the lights. The cottage had a cozy living room with a couch and a doorway leading to a tiny kitchen. The bedroom was roomy, with a dark wooden bed and light blue sheets that matched the wall. There was a backpack sitting on the bed, which I knew Dave had brought earlier in the day, packed with towels and a change of clothes for both of us. In the back of the room, there was a glass door that opened to a small balcony, giving us a view of the moonlit sea. I tossed my purse on the bed and opened the door, totally enchanted by the breathtaking view. The moon was casting a peaceful glow on the calm sea; I could see some boats parked far away. I looked up at the sky, filled with a bunch of stars I'd never seen before, and let myself get lost in the sight.

My heart raced when I felt two strong hands sliding around my waist, his arms wrapping around me from behind and pulling me against his body as I felt his warm breath against my skin. My own breath faltered as his lips touched my neck, kissing and exploring it slowly. I sighed as one of his hands left my waist, moving to my back and unzipping my dress.

“I don’t think you’re gonna need this anymore.” he whispered against my skin as he lowered one of my dress’ straps. I chuckled softly, turning to face him. He smiled. “Wanna come inside?”

“Yeah.” I whispered, allowing him to take me back inside the room.

He sat leaning against the bed’s headboard, pulling me onto his lap. I sat on his legs, straddling him, and chuckled softly, feeling my face grow warm, when he put his hand under my dress’ skirt, squeezing my ass firmly. I wrapped my arms around his neck, letting him pull me closer, meeting my lips with his in a slow kiss, and whined softly when he squeezed my thigh, his rough hand against my skin.

I pulled away from his kiss, blushing, as his hand went to my face, gently caressing my cheek and tracing the outline of my lower lip with the tip of his thumb. Dave looked at me, his brown eyes deep with lust, his hand pulling down my dress and revealing my breasts. I shivered, feeling the night’s cold air against my skin. He took my dress off, leaving me in only my underwear on his lap, and kissed me again slowly, his tongue moving against mine while his hand explored my body. He let out a low grunt when I moved my lips to his neck, leaving small kisses on his skin as I settled in his lap.

“So you’re getting braver now?” he asked in a husky tone, and I pulled back, feeling my face grow warm. After two months together, we had already fucked several times, but I still felt a little shy when it happened. He laughed softly. “I’m just kidding, babe. Come here.” He grabbed my hand and pressed it against his pants.

I blushed when I felt his erection against the palm of my hand; I moved my hand slowly against his jeans, my fingers searching for his pants’ button. He moaned softly, pulling me closer as I unzipped his jeans. His lips crashed into mine again, his kiss was now intense, hungry. He pulled back and took his clothes off quickly.

“Ah!” I exclaimed, surprised, when he pulled me back close, almost aggressively. He moved my panties aside quickly before penetrating me forcefully, one of his hands holding my ass firmly while the other gripped my waist. “D-Dave!”

“Sorry.” he whispered in a husky tone. He moaned, tilting his head back as he helped me move up and down on his cock. I held onto his shoulders, burying my face in his neck, feeling my whole body warm up and letting small moans escape while I felt him move inside me. “Am I… Hurting you? Are you ok?”

“I was just… Oh, my God. ” I moaned, and he chuckled breathlessly. “I was just surprised. It was… Hmmm… It was so sudden.” He held me tighter, pushing his hips forward as I rode him slowly. I moaned, surprised by how good I was feeling. “Dave, I… Oh… ”

“You like it?” he asked, his breath quickening as he tugged my hair lightly, pulling my face away from his body so I could face him. I moaned as he held my waist with his other hand, helping me ride him, up and down, slowly, the sound of my skin slapping lightly against his filling the room. "Feels good, right?" I nodded, my face heating up, and I let out a moan as he brought his hand to my clit, massaging it softly. I picked up speed, my fingers tangling in his hair, moaning low as I moved in his lap. He growled. “You're so good at this. You're gonna make me.. Oh, gonna make me cum. Fuck, Nore… Wait a sec.”

I got off his lap and sat on the edge of the bed, both of us flushed and breathless; I watched him as he got to his feet, opening the bag and looking for something. He took a condom out of the bag, opening it and putting it on quickly before walking back to me. He leaned over, still standing, and grabbed my waist, laying me face down on the bed and pulling me close to him by the hips, resting his body weight on his other hand as he held me by my waist. He climbed onto the bed, his knees wrapped around my legs, and leaned over me, biting the side of my neck and then my ear as he pulled my panties off. I let out a low moan as he penetrated me again, gripping my hair tightly in one hand as he moved forcefully inside me.

“Feels so good inside you.” he panted, and I moaned softly in response. “So tight, oh, fuck…” he increased the pace of his movements, resting his head on my shoulder as he moved on top of me.

I knew he was getting close to coming just by the way his movements grew more intense, desperate for more contact, moaning escaping between his clenched teeth as he held my body tightly. He kissed my neck, moving faster and faster until he shuddered, letting out a deep groan when he finished. He collapsed onto the bed next to me, and I giggled at the sight of him, face flushed and eyes closed, trying to catch his breath.

"I waited all day for this, you know?" he said, his voice husky. I settled on the bed, moving closer to him, and smiled when he hugged me.

"So, you just took me on a date to fuck me afterwards?" I asked, teasingly, and he scoffed.

"Don't even think about it," he grumbled, opening his eyes with a furrowed brow, and then chuckled softly. "But I can't deny it was one of the best parts of today."

I laughed softly, burying my face in his neck. He took off the condom, and tossed it in the bin at the foot of the bed before kissing me lightly on the lips.

“Don't even think I'm done. I'm not leaving here until you come too.” He whispered in my ear, and I felt my face heat up. I pulled away, giving him a look with raised eyebrows, realizing that my face was totally red. "What's up? I told you I wouldn't let you sleep tonight," he chuckled at my reaction before planting another kiss on my lips.

The night flew by as I let myself get lost in the warmth of his embrace and his touch, forgetting about the nagging thought that he would soon be leaving. I couldn't help but recall the tarot reading earlier, when I was told I "loved too much." Maybe there was some truth to it because right then, I loved him so much that I'd do anything he asked - even ditch my plans of not going with him to New York.

But he didn't ask for anything. He just held me tight in his arms and loved me in a million different ways, between sighs, moans, and eager kisses that left us both worn out and wrapped around each other. I dozed off with his arms still wrapped around me, his soft snores against my neck, full of all the love bites he had left on my skin.

#hello hello hello it's heartbreaker day!!#ada writes fanfiction #heartbreaker fanfic #metallica #megadeth #james hetfield #dave mustaine #cliff burton #lars ulrich #metallica fanfiction #dave mustaine x oc #dave mustaine fanfiction #nore burton (oc)#dave mustaine x reader

29 notes · View notes