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#they basically said fuck the show morals
puppyeared · 1 year
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child of divorce moment
#just finished the shadow play episode. you alrready know where im going with this#i like how macaque was like yeah i was gonna torment you emotionally but youre already doing that lmao#its like when i was on call with my brother and cousin and our cousin was like 'im gonna steal your diamonds >:)'#andthen theres a pause and hes like 'wait wheres youre diamonds' 'dude we dont have any' and he was like 'damn thats sad. do you want some#DUDE LITERALLY BREAKSINTO OUR HOUSE FOR DIAMONDS AND HES LIKE DAMN BITCH YOU LIVE LIKE THIS? HERE#i really like how this ep makes it clear that macaque doesnt actually have a beef with MK and its really a beef by extension bc hes with#wukong lol. literally tells him hes a good kid and doesnt pretend to have a beef with him just because#doesnt stop him from using mk like he did in the first ep he appeared in which i cant remember the name of. but its there#maybe im reading into this too much but idk. does this say something about his morals like how he didnt go further with tormenting mk when#mk basically spilled everything to him? like he absolutely could have done it so?? this fucking show man#ALSO he might be right about mk just having a terrible teacher because he knows firsthand as a former friend of swk. so there are some part#that mk might not know of based on stories or what swk has shown to him. especially since hes supposed to be someone mk looks up to#this feels very obvious now that i said all that and something the show is probably trying to show me anyway i know#yapping#lmk
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seethinglikeme · 1 year
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seeing ppl say that dabi’s an emotionless sociopath just bc he says he is is actually annoying af to me 😭 like r u rlly gonna say the guy who thought so hard abt the families of the ppl he’s killed he went crazy, went berserk when twice died, and literally burned himself to death BC he was so emotional that his father didn’t come to see his quirk’s development is unemotional just bc he says he is? cmon babes be for fucking real 😭
#and bc ik there r counterarguments to the examples i listed:#1) he said that out loud to himself while wiping blood away from his eye scar which is used to symbolise his tears since he cant cry#so no it’s not him lying or faking it or acting. it’s dabi thinking out loud and expressing his feelings#in a scene btw that wasn’t necessary to that arc’s plot or anything - horikoshi decided to put it in for a different reason then#(perhaps to show the audience that just bc dabi says he’s emotionless doesn’t actually mean he is. but what do i know)#2) yeah he said he’s upset abt twice’s death bc it affects him negatively. but that doesn’t make sense#why high-five him then? that wasn’t necessary - u can argue it boosts twice’s morale but to do what? escape from hawks & help the plf?#twice has plenty of motivation to do that - he already was! so why else? throwing a dog a bone? dabi’s not the type to do that and even if#he was that implies some sort of pity or fondness which also disproves the emotionless thing#not only that but his reaction when twice died was not a ‘fuck i just lost a useful tool for my plan’#that was someone in the anger stage of grief and going mad w it#also we legit saw dabi’s touya reveal & it was obv not a plan he’d adjusted or created in the time btwn twice’s death and that moment#same 4 the video#and i mean we see dabi fight endeavor & shouto and he does all that alone - none of the plf help#if he doesn’t let the rest of the league help him then why woild twice have been the exception? and actually why would the guy who#told deku to stay out of the todoroki family’s business and didnt tell the league his identity til he revealed it to everyone want someone#else’s help??#it doesn’t make sense - more likely that dabi was mourning a friend/ally and emotional enough and he came up w a shitty excuse bc of it#3) i mean it’s basically canon that he lost control of his flames BC he was so emotional#and there r plenty more examples i just chose those 3 bc they’re bigger ones#but burning down toga’s family home burning down the orphanage returning to the todoroki family home in the first place etc#trying to inflict as painful a death as he could on hawks etc#all displays of emotion and shit#and tbh i could prbly argue that his constant reiteration that he’s a sociopath who doesn’t feel anything is all bluster and bullshit to#make himself be thought of as worse than he is bc itd hurt enji’s rep even more#i have more to say but u get the picture#if i see one more piece of dabi hate calling him emotionless and sociopathic im going to start biting#todoroki touya#dabi#me
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cryptidofthekeys · 2 years
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celestie0 · 29 days
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MASSIVE gojo x reader fanfic rec (no spoilers)
ok i know a lot of my followers are gojo girlies and i just need to put yall onto this fucking fanfiction because i just read the latest release for it and i’m genuinely tweaking rn🧍🏻‍♀️
@lostfracturess ‘s amazing work called “symptoms & causes” - a medical au
[image pulled from her masterlist]
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let me just…let me just try to even gather the reasons why you need to add this to your tbr lists (weekend is comin up too so perfect time)
characterization of gojo satoru.
gojo in this fic is characterized so fucking well, from chapter one. there are so many distinctive ways miss lostfractures goes about building his aura (word of mouth/reputation, dialogue, expository, primary interactions, secondary interactions, etc.) it reminds me of the show where gojo just has this energy to him that you can't tear yourself away from i picture him in this fic to be unrelenting, unforgiving, morally grey, with an undertone of softness yet still feral through it all,, basically gojo during shibuya arc LOL. i looove reading cute silly boy gojo fics sm (he’s so baby) but THIS fic explores the borderline wicked side of him that is so thrilling, unique, and rare to find i think in this fandom’s collection of works. it’s just so fucking good.
forbidden romance.
UGGHH i love stories w forbidden romance. in this one, it’s med student reader x professor gojo (additional power dynamics in that he’s a senior surgeon in her field and also a research mentor in her study of interest…TRIPLE THREAT DAMN). i love how miss lostfractures doesn’t shy away from reminding the reader that it’s wrong, and that they shouldn’t be doing this. that’s my fave part of forbidden romances like yesss remind me again why this is all so wrong but let’s still do it anyways LOL <333
reader’s voice.
i’ve LOVED reader since the beginning, so relatable, emotionally mature, all her flaws are so believable & her strengths are shown seamlessly. it’s just so much fun to read because i’ll literally have a thought like “hmm…that (something a character said/did) doesn’t sound very convincing” and then the next line will be something like “he didn’t sound very convincing” like!!! me and s&c reader?? we’re locked in like this fr🤞🏼 like gojo’s domain expansion fingers
escapism.
everything in this story feels so damn real it’s insane. the pacing is stunning, love the utilization of stacks of scenes that are sort of short but so concise, enough to be a smooth read but still descriptive enough to entirely transport you into the world that’s being built. cannot praise the writing in this story enough. also the variety of ways that scenarios are made that pull characters closer to one another?? so creative. as someone who works in a research lab, studied bio in college (some of the fkn biochem stuff that comes up in this fic gives me heart attacks lmfaooo pls im traumatized), and has worked in clinics/hospitals it just itches my brain so damn good. you’ll be convinced you’re a brilliant med student while you read this fic.
writing.
the writing is just. so. good. it’s so good. better than most PUBLISHED works i’ve read. i really can't say much other than that, you just have to go see for yourself.
if any of these reasons speak to you, i highly recommend you check the fic out. just a note tho it does have some dark themes but you can find all the tags/warnings on her page!
OK BYE
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rinhaler · 20 days
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As promised!!! Since I love your writing, I had this imagination spark while listening to Chase Atlantic's "HEAVEN AND BACK" song, oddly to say I associate Rin Itoshi in every CA songs. Basically could I request a steamy one-night stand of him meeting reader in a big crowded bar where Rin is likely a bass guitarist? Sounds cheesy of it but XD
GLAD U SAID BASS PLAYER MY BOYF PLAYS BASS 😭 sorry this took SO long to post but I hope u like it :3
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, alcohol consumption, (kinda fast) enemies to lovers, fingering, love bites, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess etc.), squirting.
words: 2.2k
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It’s been years since you’ve been to a gig. Especially one like this, in a dingy dive bar for a barely known local band. The guitarist is a friend of your cousin’s. And she just about begged you to go.
The place is pretty packed and the music definitely isn’t the worst you’ve heard. In fact, you found yourself swaying your hips and tapping your toes along to the beat. As the night went on and on, you were surprised to find that they were actually good. Good enough to be searching for their latest single when they promoted it at the end of their set.
“Play nice please,” your cousin begs. “I really like him, and I think tonight might be the night.”
“I knew he wasn’t just a fucking friend.” you laugh. She crosses her arms across her chest as embarrassment surges through her, but you still decide to tease her. “You really needed me to help you get some dick?”
“Shut up!” she blushes. “You always have guys falling at your feet so I thought it might rub off on me.” she pouts.
You clear your throat when you notice the guy in question heading your way. She turns around, instantly, smoothing her hair down and putting on the highest, girliest voice she can muster. He seems interested enough without her needing your help, but you decide to stay a few extra seconds for moral support. She giggles at every sentence and smiles giddily whenever he speaks.
“Tone it down, you’re good.” you whisper in her ear before slinking away to the bar.
You signal for a drink, thankful for the low-cut top you’re wearing as everyone else seems to be instantly ignored in favour of you. There’s a scoff beside you, one you choose to ignore until he watches you receive your pint of beer.
“Is there something on my face?” you ask.
“No.” he responds. “I’m jealous of your drink, princess.”
“Excuse me, can you get this guy a beer too?” you yell. The bartender nods with a smile and quickly acquiesces. “Will that put a smile on your pretty face?”
He smirks but shakes his head as he ignores you. He thanks the bartender as he receives his own drink, the frothy head attaching itself to his lip before he licks it away. He grunts a little as he feels a passerby knock into the big black case on his back. It’s only then that you notice it, and pieces begin to fall into place.
“Oh fuck. You were in the band.” you smile excitedly as you angle your body to face him. “I wasn’t gonna come tonight but I’m glad I did.” you giggle as you pull up your phone to show the bands single saved in your music library.
“Thanks.” he nods. “Why did you come?”
“Uh my cousin is trying to fuck the guitarist.”
“You’re Ada’s cousin?” he asks, expression changing to one of slight annoyance. He takes another swig of his beer before elaborating. “Zantetsu hasn’t shut up about her and she’s always crashing our practices. I hope they get it over with, it’s getting in the way.”
“Oh you’re a serious musician. Gotcha.” you roll your eyes. “You know you play the most boring instrument out of everyone, right?”
“Excuse me?”
“Drummers are the hottest, guitars are the most iconic, everyone’s drawn to the singer. And then there’s… you. No one can even hear you over all of that, you know.”
He scoffs once again. You can tell he wants to fight you on it and fill your head with facts about his instrument of choice. But it’s almost like he already knows you and how stubborn you are. He could tell you anything he wants, but you’ll die on the hill you’ve decided to climb just to piss him off more.
“They’d sound like shit if it wasn’t for me.” he mumbles before taking another drink. “The bass is the most important part, you’re clueless. It’s like you’ve never listened to music in your life.”
“Clueless?” you repeat. “Besides, you’ve got a pretty face. I’m sure if your attitude wasn’t so rotten and you were the lead singer you’d be drowning in pussy.”
“I do alright.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You squint your eyes sceptically. There’s no doubt that he has the potential to pull a girl or two. And, admittedly, you’ve had one very hostile conversation with him. But you can tell from his sulky demeanour that any woman he has a chance with is likely scared off by his attitude.
He tries to ignore you for the remainder of his drink.
God, he tries.
But he’s overwhelmed by the desire to put you in your place.
“I—”
“There’s no way you’re getting girls.” you interrupt him immediately. “Like, no way. Maybe one or two, but you’re not doing better than the lead. He’s gorgeous and he’s the face of the band.”
His smile is wicked as he holds his near empty glass, swilling the golden liquid around the bottom before he puts it down on a coaster. “You really don’t get it, do you?” you’re a little taken aback as he bites his lip whilst looking at you from the corner of his eye.
His expression makes your heart beat a little faster. You find yourself shuffling in your seat as you see just how strikingly handsome he really is when he’s trying. And then it hits you, he’s trying. He’s showing you what he’s capable of and you’re falling for it. Even with the knowledge, it’s too late. All you can think about his that sharp jawline and striking stare.
“You know what they say about bass players.” he says quietly, but loud enough for you to hear. His barstool spins so he’s facing you. You take a sharp inhale as he slowly leans in towards you, the smell of beer on his pretty lips makes you heady and excited, waiting with bated breath for him to continue. “They’re good with their fingers.”
You can’t stifle a laugh as he pulls away, giggling like your cousin had been moments prior whilst flirting with the guitarist. It’s embarrassing, letting him see you reduced to this after trying to irritate him. You clear your throat and try to gain your composure.
“You’re disgusting.” you respond.
“Mmm, you want to find out though, so,” he shrugs, finishing the last dregs of his drink. “I’ll wait by the entrance for ten minutes, if you don’t come find me, I’ll leave without you.” he walks away without even looking at you.
You don’t get a chance to say a word before he seamlessly weaves through the crowd and out of sight. Without thinking, you’re already on your feet and checking the time.
Ten minutes.
You rush through the bar to find Ada, tapping on her shoulder to pull her attention away from Zantetsu. “I’m leaving. Seal the deal, please.” you wink. She nods, laughing as you kiss her cheek and rush towards the entrance.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you saw his face light up when he realised you were actually going to take him up on his offer. He plays it off, though, trying to appear cooler and more aloof as you approach him.
“It’s barely been two minutes.” he tells you.
“I’m not gonna let you hear the end of it if you’re all talk.” you smirk.
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The minute he gets you inside of his apartment, you can’t keep your hands off each other. Your lips are on his in an instant, your breath stolen as he lifts you from the ground and encourages you to wrap your legs around his waist while he carries you into the kitchen.
He helps you out of the vest top you’re wearing when he sits you down on the counter so you’re down to your jeans and bra. You tilt your head as he peppers your neck in a combination of soft and sloppy kisses.
Your heels fall off without effort as you instinctively open your legs, rolling your hip against his clothed abs.
“My roommate is out,” he tells you quietly, still kissing you all over. You moan softly as he starts leaving soft bite marks across your skin. “He’s such a clean freak, he’d lose it if he knew—”
“It’s okay,” you giggle, you cup his face and direct him to kiss you again. “Help me get my jeans off.”
He wastes no time unbuttoning them and yanking down the zipper. He keeps his eyes on yours as he helps you shimmy out of the wide-legged jeans, smiling at you as you both hear them crumple on the ground.
“Gonna show me what a stud you are?” you ask, spreading your legs to reveal your dark, lewd panties. There’s a glint of amusement in his eye, which soon turns into a toothy grin as he runs his finger along the damp slit. “Fuck,”
“You’re soaking for me already, good girl.” he tells you. He begins to rub your clit over the lace covering your flesh, and you’re immediately putty in his hands. Your legs quiver slightly, and you rush to close them, but he pries them apart before leaning in to kiss you. “Keep them open for me.” he demands before slipping his tongue between your lips.
“Haah.. haaaah~!” you whimper, his featherlight ministrations seeming like magic as he continues to tease your clit.
“Fuck,” he grunts, fingers curling around the waistband of your panties before he begins to tug. “Off. Get them off.” he demands, ordering you to wiggle on the counter until he manages to peel them from your cunt and slip them down your legs. He distracts you with a kiss as he shoves them into the back pocket of his jeans.
Your tongue lolls out of your mouth as he resumes circling your now bare clit. Your face is picturesque, he thinks, as your eyes become heavy and your pants are more uncontrollable.
“Are you faking this to piss me off?” he wonders. You shake your head slowly. “You’re so sensitive…”
“S-Shut up,” you bite your lip before giggling. “Haven’t gotten any in a while.”
“Well we can’t have that. Better make up for lost time.” he grins, fingers traversing from your throbbing clit to your entrance. His jaw hangs low, moaning in faux sympathy as he starts to stretch you immediately with two fingers. “You’re so tight baby, takin’ me so well.” he tells you.
He doesn’t wait for a response before his head sinks to nestle in the crook of your neck as he assaults your skin with a cacophony moans and sucks, decorating your flesh with his name in a purple and blue masterpiece.  
Your cunt squelches as he presses his fingers deeper and deeper into your gooey interior, eagerly searching for your sweet spot and hellbent on targeting it. He hears you squeak, body almost falling limp with a particularly delicious curling of his fingers. You feel his smug expression against your pulse point, but instead of mocking you, his canines gently graze against it.
“She’s so loud for me, baby. Your sloppy little pussy loves me.” he breathes. You throw your head back as he continues to delve deeper and deeper until you can no longer fight off the urge to scream his name.
“FUCK, Rin!” you cry. “There! R-Right there!”
“There, princess?” he asks, though it’s rhetorical. He already knows what you want and what he needs to do. You’re happy you goaded him. But he’s happier to know he’s proving you wrong. “You’re squeezing so tight… won’t be able to play with your pussy or my bass if you break my fingers.”
“Sto- stop. Goddddd Rin I’m gonna c-um. Gonna cum!” you warn him, as if he didn’t already know. You wrap your arms around his neck in a needy display that makes you sick, but you don’t care enough to stop. He doesn’t mind, either. Making out with you passionately, swapping spit as drool dribbles and pools from each of your mouths. His lips remain connected to yours by a single string of spit as you break away to moan through your high.
He swallows them, though. Transfixed by the feeling and pride that you’re offering your prettiest sounds for him to devour while your legs quiver violently on either side of his hand.
You throw your head back as your pussy begins to squirt and douse his fingers. He doesn’t even flinch, immediately using his free hand to swipe across your clit to extend your pleasure and further the mess spurting from the apex of your thighs.
“She really likes me, baby.” he smirks at you, an expression so smarmy you’d punch him if he hadn’t made you feel so good. “You came so fast for me.”
“You’re welcome.” you giggle, leaning forward to kiss him. “I got what I came for so I’m gonna leave now.” you tell him as you pretend to free yourself of his hold. He shakes his head, lower lip tugged by his teeth as he tries to supress a smile.
“Nuh-uh, sweetheart. Nowhere near through with you yet.”
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© 2024 rinhaler
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auroraborealyss · 2 years
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𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐬' 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬.
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⊹ pairing: morpheus x reader
⊹ summary: how morpheus, dream of the endless, the king of dreams, or as you know him: your love, expresses his love
⊹ warnings: some explicit language, but mostly none (however my inputs are slightly out of control in this one—case and point: this note)
⊹ word count: 3107
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𝗴𝗶𝗳𝘁 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 you are talking to the king of dreams. the Endless who's responsible for seeing what people dream about, what they're scared of, and managing it. this is also the same Endless who thought it would be a fun idea to put his power into three of his favourite things. of course gifts is going to be his main love language
as the lord of dreams, of course his first instinct is to give you whatever you want. to create whatever you wan. he genuinely finds pleasure in creating something himself to give to you
(dare i say a kink)
has definitely fashioned a dream after you. whatever impact you have on morpheus (make him warmer, kinder, see the beauty in humans and their short but well-lived lives, etc...), that dream because that for others
no need to buy new clothes when he can just make you whatever you want
you want the top half of that one dress but the bottom half of another? check your closet.
you want the new book from your favorite author but it doesn’t release for another six months? check your mail.
you want that chocolate that was discontinued? check your cabinets?
even if you’re not in the palace of the dreaming at all times, he insists that you live in one in the waking world. so he buys/inspires an architect to make you your dream apartment/house
if its an apartment and you live by yourself? still gets you a three bedroom for no fucking reason other than he wants you to be comfortable. there used to be a hill that blocked your window? your architect was inspired to demolish it. you want it back? your architect is inspired to build one
if it’s a house, insert lazy river (honestly, if i had the money to waste and spend, i’d get one for myself. alas, the only lazy river i get is when my sink overflows) cue to you casually floating on a donut floatie while reading a book, doing laps around your house over and over again
if you do a form of art, you’ll get a room dedicated to it. a library. a painter’s studio. a photography room. sculpting nook. all of it and more.
there is nothing you could want that he could not give you
and never ever bring up money unless you want a mysterious and rude amount of money deposited into your account to wake up to
he'll also go to great lengths if you need a particular item (exhibit a: him going into the lake to get gifts for the fates. he did all that for his items, so imagine what he'd do for you)
but you want to know what the best gift he gives you?
his coc
𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗶𝗰𝗲 this man will be begging for you to let him do things for you. in this essay—
(did you see the calliope episode? because that part of episode 1.11 is basically exhibit b for this section)
someone said something mean to you? bam. they will be plagued by nightmares of someone he loves saying those things to him until he dies.
if you’re a better person than him and won’t let him mentally torture people for as long as he likes and thinks they deserve, he’ll omit telling you that he’s torturing people. what you don’t know, won’t hurt, right?
but if you’re flirting with the line that is morally good and you do consent to letting him torture people, he might show you his progress on them and their decaying sanity
“look at what i have done with the love i have for you.”
you still get nightmares when you sleep, not because he wants to hurt you, but because nightmares can actually help you. dreams can inspire us to be better, but so can nightmares. for example, being visited by a nightmare that shows you your fear of failing that test makes you wake up and be motivated to study. what he does do for you is restrain the nightmares? he lets them scare you enough to act as a motivator, but not extremely that you are crippled with fear and anxiety
protective morpheus (currently sobbing)
when you wake and leave the Dreaming, he’s gone but there’s always a cup of coffee with you
acts of service also include making others do acts. rather than get a phone, forces matthew to carry messages between you and him instead.
if you're studying and need information on something, he'll have lucienne prepare a stack of books, and maybe even notes, for you to see to when you return to him in the Dreaming
but the biggest act of service he can do for you is meet your friends
lets you drag him to parties and dinner and brunches
might not socialize (probably will not), and you might find him standing in the corner becoming a shadow, but he won't bother you to leave until you want to
he'll watch you the whole time
takes care of your drinks (and everyone else's)
or, he might follow you around like a shadow. no matter who you talk to, he'll be standing beside you, an arm around your waist
if you're a social butterfly, he admires that about you
if you're more socially introverted, he'll hang out with you in the shadows and leave when you want to, even if you've only been there for five minutes
basically he's a simp—and he might actually proudly admit to being one because who's the one who's dating you in the end?
𝗽𝗵𝘆𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵 before his confinement, he wasn’t the most physical person. he wouldn’t pull away, but he didn’t reach for you either, though he always secretly liked it. after his imprisonment, he begins to reach for you. not just that, but he begins to crave your touch. touch is how he reminds himself that he is with you, you are with him, and that he is free
in public, it’s limited but clear that you’re together
the last thing he needs is hearing matthews’ teasing squawks in his ear about morpheus being the endless version of a cat
when lucienne catches pda, she’ll at least be respectful and dignified and not comment, though she will be grinning like a cheshire cat and her eyes will keep looking
your arm around his when walking around
his hand on your back
then your lower back
brushing your hair out of your face
sitting close enough for shoulder and legs to touch
standing close
(once again, I bring up the calliope episode—someone stop me from rewatching that over and over again)
did you see how close they were standing? then, when you thought they were close enough, he takes an even closer step? that. THAT.
whatever concept you have of personal space, a personal bubble, this man is inside it. yes, your arms might be linked while walking. but your sides will be pressed together.
and while it might appear that you're the one who links your arms together, he is the one who already has his elbow slightly bent and held out towards you
when you do hold hands, his thumb brushes over your skin absentmindedly, as if feeling your warmth isn’t enough and it’s a constant reminder of him that you’re there
but when you do the same to him, or gods help him, you squeeze it, he, with every fibre of his being, will feel it and nearly stop from the overwhelming feelings that threaten to send him to the ground
so keep it sparingly
...or not
kisses in public..truthfully, he's probably leaning towards no. full on make out sessions? probably not. when you guys are saying goodbye, i’m seeing more of a tight, slightly awkward dip of the head—a farewell not
but, bringing that calliope episode up once again, he won’t don't anything if you were to initiate it.
kiss on the cheek? you better hold that position for a few fucking seconds so you can let that man close his eyes and savour the intimateness that is the feeling of your soft lips against his cold cheek.
why don’t you press your forehead against the side of his head while you’re at it? you know, when you’re done kissing him but before you pull away. think of it as giving him a few seconds to revert back to cold, formal morpheus, dream of the endless, and not your boyfriend/partner
stares at you when you’re not looking
stares at you even when you're looking
stares down at you when you're asleep in his arms
stares up at you when he's down on his knees between your—sorry, wrong fic
imagine those intense eyes just looking at you and not looking away, not ashamed at taking in the beauty that is his partner
he has no qualms when someone is staring at you, because how he can be blame them
but he does have qualms when their gaze turns into a leer. that's when he'll send a couple nightmares their way for a few directions. not to mention, he'll turn his gaze from you to glare them down, and because they have now deprived him from admiring you for the few seconds this last, he blames it on them and gives them a...gift (and a visit to desire if he finds out they had something to do with it)
on the rare occasion that he's actually using his throne and sitting on it rather than dramatically sitting on the steps after he spread his coat out around him, he might let you sit on his lap (nothing more...in public)
not straddling him—god no—but sitting horizontal so your legs are over his lap and your side is against his chest with your arms around his neck and his arms around your waist
he does that when he needs to relax
he might whisper his problems and insecurities in your ear
but in private—in private—this man is draped over you
he’ll be like a cat who actually likes his owner and will curl up on you
if you’re cuddling, you’ll lie with your head on his chest and his arm around your shoulders, maybe playing with your hair
he may or may not use a bit of his sand to help you sleep if you’re having troubles entering his realm, but with him drawing random shapes on your skin or the steady rise and fall of his chest, or, if you're really lucky, he's reading aloud in that quiet, low, asmr voice of his, you're gone all too quickly
he always feels a bit stiff when the cuddle session begins, but after you lie down on him long enough, his limbs soften before gripping onto you tighter
but back to that no-such-thing-as-a-personal-bubble with him
walls
bringing into evidence, exhibit c: episode 1.03 with johanna constantine
why does he have to be so physically close with everyone (that isn't me)
likes to walk you backwards until you hit a wall
once you hit that wall, he may or may not take an even closer step
then closer
and even closer, but his arms are still in his pockets because he's cool and edgy like that (and intimidatingly hot)
close enough until he's kissing you
then he'll press against you to be even closer
we can unpack the trauma that being separated from everyone he loves for 100 years and being physically separated by a wall of glass some other day. for now, enjoy his closeness
because basically, close is still too far for him
𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 not 24/7 hanging out, because he is the king of dreams and he has a realm to run, but he does spend his time with you wisely, and just because you're not with him all the time, doesn't mean he isn't thinking about you all the time
his favourite thing is the two of you being in each other’s presence but working on your own things. he appreciates it more than he realizes, and during the times you sit to the side as he makes new dreams, he’ll sometimes put aspects of you in them—intentionally or unintentionally
when you aren't together, he'll still be consumed with thoughts of you
he thinks of you all the time, actually. and because of that, he also talks about you all the time, sometimes subconsciously. and sometimes with no reason at all—or perhaps the only reason he needs to bring you up is because you're you and he's in love with you
"y/n did extremely well on her project, did you hear?" "did you hear about my report on the rogue nightmares, sir?" matthew asks. "she worked very hard on it. i'm proud of her."
thinks about you when doing research in the library with lucienne
wonders about you when going on walks with death
mentions you on dinners with hob
dates with him doesn't have to be the most exciting thrilling thing. in fact, he likes living in domestic bliss with you. doing dishes together. helping you with laundry. watching a movie. people watching. walking your pets.
he usually leaves you alone when you’re awake and uses that time for his duties while you’re busy doing awake things anyway, but when you do fall asleep and are in the dreaming, that’s when the two of you are always together, stuck at the hip (and we're back to the closeness)
takes you out to dinner everyday where he listens to you talk and rant about your day and give you suggestions. he eventually does the same with you, and you become the first person he goes to whenever he needs consultations for his problems
insert jealous hob when he finds him and you eating and morpheus actually talking to you and not just sitting there quietly like with him
but hob gets over it (he doesn’t) and sometimes he’ll join dinner with you guys.
family dinners in his realm with you, hob, death, lucienne, marvin (and only because you invited him), matthew (though morpheus gives him a dog bowl rather than a plate)
during the moments the two of you are together, he treasures and cherishes it
and during the moments when it's just the two of you together, he'll definitely make it worth both your while
drawing it out (if you know what i mean)
and i mean, teasing you for hours and sessions that go until you wake—
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ha no. did you see how emotionally constipated this man was? how he can't tell calliope he still loves her, admit to hob that they're friends, and ask for help from death? words are not the dream king's weapon
the most you get is a term of endearment, like my love or my beloved
always 'mine' though
but this Endless is not about to spout off a pride and prejudice speech at you, so don’t bother waking up early and going for a hike. just sleep and hang out with him in the Dreaming instead in silence
however he does have a beautiful voice—one that as his partner, you are allowed to take advantage of. cue making him read pride and prejudice at you (especially that speech: “you have bewitched me, body and soul, and i love…i love…i love you. i never wish to b parted from you from this day on.”) you with his head on your lap, him sitting against a tree with the branches over the both of you for some shade. one hand is holding up the book, the other is absentmindedly twirling your hair. when he finishes the line, he looks down at you, slightly amused but completely enamoured, especially at the giddy expression on your face, and he dips down to kiss you
he tells you that he inspired jane austen to write that speech for you—it’s up to you if you want to believe him or call it bullshit
while he might not be giving love confessions every three seconds, he does give you compliments. and not just when you do something that warrants a compliment, but randomly. because to him, everything you do is majestic and needs to be acknowledged as so
"you're beautiful" when you're in casual clothes, sweats, pyjamas, (or bare)
"what would the world do without you?" when you hold open the door for an elderly couple
and you know he says it against your ear, voice low, his whispered words hot and heavy. maybe even a little raspy—
but just because he might not be the chatterbox on the block, doesn't mean he doesn't want someone talking to him
so don't give him the silent treatment, because when he does, he becomes insufferable to everyone
he's all curt to lucienne. snappy with matthew. demanding with poor marvin. sharp with cain and abel. rude with death. threatening with desire.
no one has nice dreams and nightmares become so much worse
not you, of course. you're still sleeping perfectly fine, but you realize something's wrong when you meet up with your friends and one of them hasn't slept in days while the other hasn't woken up in days
if it's his fault, it might take death for him to realize his mistakes and apologize to you. again, no long speech, just the simple words, "i'm sorry. i was wrong. please forgive me, my love." and considering this man's flaw is his ego, that is more than enough
and if you tell him to say it on his knees he will as he whispers it against your—
but if you're at fault, he won't back down until you apologize. however, he won't leave you alone. he'll always be there in the corner of your eye, waiting for you to apologize. and when you do, he'll purse his lips, nod, and say nothing. but you'll know he's already forgiven you when his eyes soften and he gives you that soft smile that's reserved for so few people
he might not talk to you, but he does want you to talk to him, so ramble away
let's not get started on what he says in private, but i'll tell you this. he isn't so silent anymore, and he will definitely appreciate whatever you tell him in whatever form—and might even strive to create and draw such sounds from you
a plea
a cry
a groan
a whimper
a scream—
in conclusion, this man will love you with every piece of him. (and if i could, i would do the same morpheus please just give me a chance)
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𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: 𝗐𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 1.06 𝗍𝗈 1.11. 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽. 𝗂 𝖺𝗆 𝖺𝖻𝗌𝗈𝗅𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 this 𝗆𝖺𝗇. 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗋𝗎𝖽𝖾 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗉𝗎𝗍𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗇 𝖺𝗇 𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗐 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽?
𝗂'𝗆 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 14𝗁 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗌𝗈 𝗂𝖿 𝗂 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗂𝖾, 𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗀𝗂𝖿𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽
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𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌: 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘢𝘯'𝘴 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘶𝘴' 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯
𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘧!
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oneeyedoctogod · 7 months
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Gods this fandom sometimes, I swear. I'm sorry I read two deeply bad takes back to back, and I have to rant. I'm sure others have said it better than I, but really. Come on. I actually have to wonder if people who talk about the extras actually read them because...
Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji didn't leave the cultivation world in canon. They elope, and then they come back. The fact they're not involved in the bigger politics is... pretty much to be expected, but they very much do participate in the day to day lives of the Lan sect. They go where the chaos is to night hunt, they teach, Lan Wangji comforts his brother in his seclusion, and Wei Wuxian meets some new Lan disciples.
As for the cottage fantasy... Again, I honestly have to wonder if the people talking about it actually read the extra it's in? Because it's just that. A fantasy. A dream. It's basically a representation of Wei Wuxian's wants for a domestic life, something he definitely has now! He's always been characterised as someone who wants to help others and who loves cultivation. Why would you think the dream is to be taken literally?
And the idea that Wei Wuxian has 'several important relationships just floating there', that he's not dealing with... Where? Which ones? He teaches the juniors and grows closer to Jin Ling. He doesn't exactly interact with Lan Xichen, but he asks after him. He meets Mianmian again and wishes her well. He asks after Wen Ning after Lan Sizhui comes back then has some father-son bonding moments with him!
Nie Huaisang and Wei Wucian aren't close. They were friendly once, but they didn't ever meet after the lectures. I don't see how that qualifies as an "important" relationship, especially with Nie Huaisang never openly admitting to his part in Wei Wuxian's resurrection. But even then, Wei wuxian says he'll be keeping a close eye on him, so one can imagine they meet again at some point.
As for Jiang Cheng... what more do you want Wei Wuxian to do exactly? Even if you want a reconciliation, why can't Jiang Cjeng be he one to actually grow up and do the work for once? He's the one who never apologized. He's the one who is still openly hostile in the extras. If Wei Wuxian wants to move on and not interact with him, he's well within his right to do that, given how Jiang Cheng treated him. Hell, he's more generous than most since he encourages Jin Ling to talk to Jiang Cheng. If I'd been treated by someone like Jiang Cheng treated Wei Wuxian and saw him hit our nephew several times, I certainly wouldn't encourage them to meet. (But that's Wei Wuxian for you, the moral ideal and better than all of us.)
Anyway, I really don't understand why people insist on making Wangxian have a sadder ending than the one they actually did. It's a HEA for them, sorry guys. And yeah, maybe Wei wuxian has some trauma to work on... but the whole point of the character is that he doesn't let his trauma define him. That he wants to forgives, forgets and moves on.
(Also, just because he doesn't have a breakdown or the cultivation equivalent of therapy in the extra doesn't mean he's not working on them? He finally is at peace, with a solid support network. Maybe he does talk about his past hurts with Lan Wangji - Lan Wangji certai ly knows when to comfort him when he needs it. But the narrative point of the extras is to show they're moving on from the past! And you know what, sometimes the beat thing to do to heal is to do just that. They're living their best lives, deal with it.)
And finally... shit did you really read the whole book and come to the conclusion Wei Wuxian should have 'learned to accept help'? Who the fuck offered help? Who did he refuse?
(Don't say Lan Wangji. 1) I love him, but "Come back to Gusu" is very much not an obvious offer to help, and when Wei Wuxian understandably misunderstands him, he never manages to correct it.
And 2) once Wei Wuxian tells him explicitly he's not leaving the Wen remnants behind, Lan Wangji understands and backs off. He approves! I'm sure he'd do more if he could, but just like Jiang Yanli, he can't!)
Jiang Cheng literally said, 'No one will help you, no one is on your side' (and then made sure that was true by saying Wei Wuxian was the enemy of the cultivation world). Jin Zixuan chose to ask the one who was ambushed to disarm rather than the 300 cultivators attacking him and lunged at him when Wei Wuxian refused to comply (because he'd be killed if he did!!). How is that help?
Who else tried to help? Whose help did Wei Wuxian reject?
Wei Wuxian was presented with a series of bad choices and took the best he could, the ones aligned with his principles, accepting he'd have to face consequences at some point but also knowing it was still worth it. He's not the one who failed or made a fatal mistake or betrayed his word.
Rant over. Sorry about that.
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s0rinsleeps · 7 months
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Twit cap: What if I went full TLOU ellie mode to protect my sister and u knew and didn’t tell the cops bcs u think I’m sooo sexy and sooo mysterious
ALOT OF DETAILS IF U WANT THEM UNDER THE CUT
Very very random spontaneous au moment!!
•Vander let’s vi/pow live in a secluded cabin in the woods to get them away from his shady lifestyle (he wants to quit but silco and Co. want him dead) anyway vi does her best to protect them both but unfortunately Powder gets kidnapped. (They want to use her as leverage against Vander) And well,, vi as said above, does what she has to do to get her sis back. Brutally. In her rage she fucks up and leaves incriminating evidence behind, so, desperate, she goes to the only other person she knows.
•Caitlyn learns abt this and decides to protect Vi and fuck up evidence to help vi hide. Vi feels guilty for letting Caitlyn get caught up in her mess but caitlyn tbh doesn’t gaf (we Stan a morally questionable woman) and she just wants silco and co captured./ they r wanted for. A numerous amount of things, drugs, murder, etc.
•(Also vi befriended Caitlyn a bit before this happened. I was thinking that the two met after Cait caught Powder practicing her marksmanship in the woods. Caitlyn is a detective for the local town and is curious abt the two. Although a bit moreso of the scary woman who looks like she’s never seen a bed in her life lol.)
-Was also thinking of giving Vander and vi a unstable/complicated relationship. ?
•Vi loves Vander like a father (classic he took them in at a very young age blah blah) but still hates the fact that her and powder have been dragged into all this, also he kind is bad dad (sorry) and doesn’t know how to give vi the emotional support she needs/she still becomes basically a mom for powder since he’s usually never home.
-Vander is trying his best, very much reflective of how he is in canon. The whole, ‘I’m trying to keep u alive but it’s not enough to keep ur innocence safe’ thing.
Also Vander is worried about the fact Silco now knows of his kiddos, and seems to have shown an interest in powder (while she was kidnapped she offed some guys which showed off her talent with a gun and silco was like wow cool I could use that)
-also silco was present but pow nor Vi saw him/ he was quickly hidden by sevika after VI started going ham on his goons.
•Powder(nickname jinx, she still has a lot of mental issues but she’s getting treated so she’s not ..that bad) takes a liking to caitlyn when she realizes that she wouldn’t rat them out to the cops and also the classic ‘they both can shoot!’ Thing, I’m sucker for caitlyn and pow bonding
(Also potential for powder trying to get vi and cait together because she wants Vi to have someone to rely on that isn’t Vander and also sees VI’s too nervous/self deprecating to make a move on her obvious crush) :p
Anyway that’s all I thought of rn!! Idek if I’ll draw more of this I just got carried away a little with the writing hahaha
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milesmolasses · 1 year
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Don't Blame Me
miles morales x reader
warnings: nothing i can think of
basically, you and Miles are a cute little couple, and you help him dye his hair at midnight (he has waves)
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The time was 12.34pm EST, and most of the apartments in Ocean Hill Brooklyn had their lights off and curtains closed. You and Miles were in a 24HR drug store across the street from his apartment, checking out their hair supplies aisle- just when you were about to grab your hair mask treatment, Miles came running to you from halfway down the aisle.
"YEOOOOO, look what I found! We finna bring the demons out tonight," he said in a playful, scratchy tone. You looked at what he had in his hand and saw the platinum blonde hair dye he was holding.
"You wanna be Frank Ocean so damn bad, don't you? You know you're destroying your hair if you do that, right?"
"Nah, I've had virgin hair for forever; my hair can't get ruined after dying it once. That's just stupid," he waved his hand dismissively to my comment on him literally killing his beautiful hair.
"Miles use your head: it's 12 in the morning, and you aren't thinking straight. Trust, you don't want to do this and wake up in the morning regretting shit," I tried to grab the dye out of his hand, but he held onto the box with such a tight grip and a determined look on his cute face, really telling me he wanted to do this.
"No, no no no no, I am thinking straight; believe me, I have thought about this a lot. I can show you my Pinterest hair board right now, and it's full of niggas with blonde waves. Frank Ocean is calling my name Y/N, PLEASE let me do this," he went on and on. He looked at me with a pleading look in his eye, attempting a cute puppy dog face with his chapped pouty lips.
"... A'ight fine, but we getting you some damn chapstick with your cracked ass lips."
"Alright not too much on me, baby. You gon help me dye it though?"
It felt as if he was counting on me to say yes, so I agreed to help him dye his hair. We soon walked up to the register with my hair mask and a new conditioner for his hair, a bag of mini KitKats, the blonde dye, and some Vaseline. I paid for the items, wondering how much I would have to apologize to Rio for destroying her sons hair.
As we walked back to his place, we stopped by the deli to pick up some more snacks- two bags of chips, jolly ranchers, and a sandwich for Miles. We made it back and quietly snuck upstairs to the bathroom, but not without first dropping the food off in Miles's room. We made our way to the bathroom with the dye and the purple conditioner/toner, and I made Miles sit down on the edge of the bath tub while I prepped all the supplies.
"You're a W girlfriend for dying my hair and buying me snacks..." I was having my doubts about this whole "dying my boyfriend's hair thing" because I really didn't want to be the cause of something Miles might regret later on. Also, I kinda liked his regular black hair- I thought it was cute, plus he already had waves, so I didn't get why he wanted to dye his hair on top of that.
"Look, don't be upset with me, ok? I've been actually wanting to do this for the longest time, and I really do appreciate you doing this for me."
"Oh Miles, I'm not upset with you. C'mon, you know I love you but I'm just a little worried about how this will all turn out. I don't want you to regret this later on. Plus keeping up with dyed hair is expensive as fuck, bro," he looked at me again, this time, without the puppy dog looks; more like a sad and disappointed seal. He didn't want to make me worried I could tell.
"Alright look, imma dye it, fix up your hair, and we'll see how it looks unwrapped in the morning, is that ok?" He smiled and took my hand kissing it softly while looking up at me.
"Perfect."
And so I got to work, giving him a towel to drape over his shoulders, bleaching his hair while listening to his moans and groans about how much it burned, putting in the platinum color in his hair, and toning it after. We washed his hair and dried it with a t-shirt, added light amounts of pomade to his hair, finger waved and brushed it, and finally came the durag.
"How did it look? You was the one doin' it, so tell me, how did it look?"
"You gonna have to find out when you wake up tomorrow. Yo, lemme crash here. I'm mad tired right now," I walked out of the bathroom, already knowing his answer to my question. I walked my way back to his room, opening the black deli bag of snacks.
He turned on the ceiling projector which showed what seemed like trillions of little life-like stars on his ceiling. He plopped down onto his bed with me, turning to the bag to grab his sandwich as we stared at the ceiling projector eating our food.
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The sunlight crept through Miles's curtains, basking us in the warm indication that a new day had arrived. My eyes blinked slowly and steadily as I shuffled through the bed I was lying in. I looked to my right and saw that the bed was empty and called out "Miles" absentmindedly.
"I'm in here," he yelled out of what I assumed was his bathroom. I rubbed my eyes as I strolled out of his bed and towards his bathroom. I walked in on a sight to behold;
A Miles I had never seen before was staring straight into the mirror, rubbing the neat blonde waves on the top of his head, smiling a smile I had never seen before.
"You are amazing. I can't believe this is what I look like, holy shit.." his smile grew even larger than before when his eyes finally met mine.
"Oh my lord, look at my mannnn," I squealed as I put my hands over my mouth in shock. Of course, I knew what the waves had looked like— I'm the one who did his hair— but seeing him so happy with my finished work made me even happier with myself and Miles.
"Me and Frank Ocean are literally twinning right now."
"He prolly don't even have them blonde waves no more."
"Why can't you just let me be happy?"
I laughed at his straight face when he said that, knowing it was only a joke. I walked closer to him so that we were both seen in the mirror, just looking at each other. He placed his hands on my shoulder as he kissed the top of my head. Something about this kiss screamed "thank you" or "I love you for this," and it made me feel warm inside as I stared into his eyes through the mirror.
Suddenly, as if he had just come to a realization, he whispered, "I gotta show my mom... shit"
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AYEEEE this took me so long to write for literally no reason
can u tell how much i love frank ocean? lol
I DO NOT CONDONE SLEEPING IN BED WITH YOUR OUTSIDE CLOTHES! THAT SHIT IS DIRTY!
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jaegeraether · 3 months
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Sunsets and footballers (Part 46)
Lucy Bronze x Reader (41) & Alexia Putellas x Character (10)
Masterlist (other parts here)
((**Happy 2024!!**))
“And you just left?”
Ridley shrugged. There were sat at a café Ridley was introducing her to, waiting to order.
“It sounds like a good night…”
“It was.”
“And she forgave you?”
“She said she did.”
“And you shared dessert!” YFN’s eyes were basically hearts. “That’s adorable.”
“She can’t eat too unhealthily during season.”
“Don’t go making excuses now, Riddles, she wanted to share.”
Ridley sighed, the heat of the Spanish sun shining down onto her face. Her sunglasses could only do so much. She’d dressed for the pool they were going to be bathing around at Lucy’s place, black shorts and a loose, see-through white button up shirt with a black bikini underneath. She always took advantage of her days off by spending them in the sun or doing activities. She was much more excited to spend it with her Blue though. She looked over at her little smiling face, her dimples on show. She was also dressed for the pool and wearing quite a similar outfit, though with one of Lucy’s button ups, from the looks of it. She wasn’t quite as tanned as she’d been when they’d last seen each other in Australia, though. The UK would do that to you. She seemed much happier though. Happiness suited her. Lucy suited her.
“What’re you thinking?”
“Spain suits you.”
Her face flashed a happy surprise as her smile widened, and she pretended it didn’t. “You think?”
“Yes.”
“Lucy loves it here…” She said, looking around them at the people who were so much more placid and in less of a rush than the UK. “Reminds me of Australia.”
“Do you think she’ll stay at Barca?”
“She wants to, but her knee…she doesn’t know how much longer she can keep going.”
“You know, anyone in her position would have quit years ago already. Her work ethic is impressive.”
“I know. I find it hard to believe she wanted me of all people…I’m really proud of her.”
“Don’t discount your worth, Blue. She’s very, very lucky to have you. I guarantee you bring her a lot of love and security that she’s never had before.”
Ridley had always been honest, though she knew where it was necessary. She also was incredibly good at understanding people. Even though YFN knew this, it still didn’t stop her partially freezing at Ridley’s words. She understood them to their core, and that’s only after meeting Lucy once.
The waiter came over, then. He was cute, polite, his hair was a wavy light brown mess and he gave them both the most genuine smile as he pushed the glasses up the bridge his nose. He was exactly Ridley’s type. She leant back in her chair to get a better look at him, not worried that she was obvious about it. She could feel YFN’s eyes roll and the man’s naivety slowly being replaced by his testosterone as he realised she liked him. He blushed lightly and gave a little, nervous laugh that made her want him even more.
“Good morning, my name is Christian, what can I get for you today?” He asked, his voice so Spanish that she knew he didn’t speak English. She assumed he was new to the café as Ridley hadn’t seen him before.
“Torrijas and pan con tomate, both to share. A café cortado for me, and an apple juice for my friend, please.” Ridley replied in perfect Spanish, ordering for the two before they’d even looked at the menus. YFN didn’t mind, she was used to it, and Ridley knew exactly what she wanted anyways.
She handed the menus over with a smile she knew would catch him off guard. She could hear a little nervous breath as he took them, able to compose himself enough to nod at both before he left. She watched as he went. She was going to rock his fucking world.
“Ridley…” YFN chastised. She was the only person in the world who’d not be encouraging at something like that. She kept Ridley’s morals intact, which is one of the reasons she loved her so much. Also, hearing her actual name from her lips meant she was in trouble.
“He’s cute.” She murmured, still looking.
“Poor form.”
“I’m not in a relationship.”
“And what about the conversation we were just having?”
“Alexia and I aren’t dating.”
“But you want to be.”
“Wanting and doing are two entirely different concepts. Maybe I just want to fuck her and my brain is pretending it’s in love with her.”
“You know that’s not true. Yes, you obviously want to have sex with her. But you’ve had the opportunity, and you haven’t really… that night doesn’t count. You know she makes you feel differently. I hear the way you talk about her.”
That interested Ridley. She thought she’d done a good job of being nonchalant when speaking about the hazel-eyed footballer.
“I don’t owe her anything.”
“You keep telling yourself that, Riddles.”
Ridley hated when YFN was disappointed with her, which was a rarity. Did she owe her something, she wondered? For the feelings Alexia made her feel? For the feelings Ridley made Alexia feel? For the tension? For the unsaid acknowledgement from them both at dinner the other night that they could be something more?
Argh, emotions, her thoughts muttered. This is why she avoided them because they were always so fucking complicated. She wasn’t bad at them necessarily, she just avidly avoided them, so it was funny that the person closest to her in the world, the one sitting on the other side of the table, was the complete opposite.
“Any plans for tonight?” She asked, changing the subject.
“Lucy is organising a meet up for the Barca team to introduce me,” she said, her disappointment gone and her smile back. So she’d be with Alexia tonight. As if reading her thoughts, “I’m not sure who’s going. Lucy’s handling all of it.”
“Mmn. And this dress you need is for which event?”
“Uh…GQ Awards?”
“In London? How did you manage that?” She was surprised, and a little suspicious.
“My boss knows people.”
“Mmnhmn.” Again, the suspicion, but she didn’t push. “Date?”
“Solo.”
“To help Jordan and Leah, right?”
YFN had mentioned it was to support her ‘friends’ but hadn’t mentioned who. Though, she didn’t seem surprised that Ridley had made a correct assumption.
“Cheeky, but yes.”
“Okay, solo, representing your business, celebrity awards…obviously we need something sexy. It’s the Man of the Year awards so everybody will be dressing more masculine, even the women. Expect suits everywhere. So I’m thinking we go opposite and make you look so sexy that the men will want you on their arms.”
“I don’t want to go too crazy..”
“It’s okay, baby, I know exactly what you need.” Their drinks and food arrived then; the server just as nervous as previously. Ridley shot him another grin that had him tripping over his feet as he left. “And you said Jordan wants an outfit too?”
“Only if we find something nice. She’s been busy with training and doesn’t want to ask Leah.” She slid her phone over the table for Ridley. “This is what Leah is wearing.”
“Fuck me, she’s stunning. We can find something to match that. Jordan has a gorgeous figure. If Leah is in a dress, is Jordan happy with a suit?”
“I think she’d prefer a suit to be honest…”
“Perfect, I already have something in mind.”
“I also have her sizing-” The look Ridley shot her was almost offended. She was good at sizing. “Never mind, now what are these?”
“Apple juice for the drink. These are torrijas which are essentially a sweet cinnamon sugar French toast, but the Spanish way. They tend to get offended at that description, though. I know you like your sweet things. And this is pan con tomate which is a very popular dish in Spain where you have bread, usually ciabatta, which you brush with olive oil and toast before rubbing garlic cloves over the bread and then spreading the tomato on top. If I were to liken it to anything, it would be closest to bruschetta, just with tomato puree and it’s simpler.” She gestured to the tables around them, most of which had the same. “It’s very popular in Catalonia.”
“I feel like falling in love with Spain is inevitable at this point.”
Ridley allowed herself a chuckle. “Well, you’ll always have a home with me.” She let herself pause to see YFN’s smile. “If you’re used to naked people, that is.”
YFN groaned.
“What? You’ve seen me naked.” Ridley teased.
“You know, I think the noise would be the deal-breaker.”
She shrugged. “I soundproof. And then there’s the gags-”
Ridley was stopped by a small torrija launched in her general direction which she caught with ease and bit into as if it were meant for her.
They finished up their brunch and of course Ridley collected the server’s number before they left, much to YFN’s disapproval. Ridley made sure YFN had all of the attention and care she needed when they chose a dress. By the end of it, even she admitted it was stunning. It was a simple, charcoal grey satin dress which curved down around her body, hugging all of the right places. It was a spaghetti strap and low back to accentuate one of her best features, her back, and those dimples at the bottom. The design was so elegant and simplistic that even YFN loved it. They played around with hairstyles, Ridley eventually convincing her that a minimal boho side-braid would be the best with the dress the show off her collarbone on one side. They picked out jewellery, a simple silver necklace and a few rings along with an exquisite silver flower ear cuff. YFN had said she’d never felt so beautiful in her life. Ridley was proud of that. She loved putting confidence into others, especially YFN.
During her fittings and talks to the staff, Ridley had been doing some shopping of her own, amongst which was a suit for Jordan to wear. It was expensive, but money had never been a factor for Ridley as she purchased everything they’d chosen that day, including YFN’s items before she’d even had a chance. Ridley had YFN tell Jordan that she had a full outfit picked out for her as she drove them to lunch by the beach. A dip in the water was tempting, but they were already both hanging out for the pool at home. A lazy day, just with each other’s company.
“Do you mind if we pick up Chiquito on the way to yours?” Ridley had asked.
“He won’t fight with Narla?”
“He doesn’t fight with anyone unless it’s for my attention.”
“Okay, then.”
Chiquito was Ridley’s cat. He was a young, grey Turkish Angora that she’d rescued during her recent contract in Dubai. Due to the weather, he was a lot less furry than others of the same breed and being Ridley’s pet, he was quite used to all things outdoors including swimming. Unusual for a cat. They say pets are like their owners, and in that aspect he was, along with being the cuddliest cat on the planet according to Ridley. YFN had not met him yet, though.
They stopped by Ridley’s house, which she’d only seen in photos. It was massive. To own a house in Spain, you needed to be well off, let alone to own a house of that size. It was typical Spanish architecture, and from the state of it and the Spanish gardens, it was obvious she had people to take care of it. Inside, it was still original with a modern twist. The attention to detail was incredible, she knew Ridley must have had a lot of input into the intricacies of the place. Everything was so neat and tidy and…Ridley. Chiquito greeted them at the door, excited to meet someone new. He let YFN pick him up and cuddle him while Ridley showed her around the house. The outdoor area and pool were stunning. YFN’s jaw dropped. She knew Ridley was rich, but she had no idea how rich. She was scared to look in the garage.
“Why don’t we just swim here?” She laughed as she stared.
Ridley shrugged. “We can. Isn’t Lucy picking you up from your apartment, though?”
Your apartment, she’d said. A Ridley way of saying she approved of their relationship which was more important to her than she realised. “I can just give her this address.”
“Okay, it’s settled. We’ll stay here then.”
Two people rounded the corner then and YFN jumped.
“It’s okay,” Ridley laughed. “It’s just my housekeeper and caretaker. Blue, this is Maria and Mateo.”
She waved while Ridley introduced them to her in Spanish. They were a cute, older couple who looked happy to see someone other than one of Ridley’s casuals. Ridley asked them something in Spanish and they nodded, getting to work.
“They live in the guest house,” she said. “They look after the place 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. I’m practically just their guest who’s home on occasion.”
“They seem lovely. What did you ask them?”
“I just told them to expect more company and asked if we could have some snacks out by the pool.”
Ridley was similar to Lucy, always hungry, because she was always working out. She showed her around the entire place, multiple bedrooms and bathrooms, gym, kitchen, living areas and she even had a music room. Ridley loved her music. She’d always played when they were younger.
“Do you remember any of the guitar I taught you?” She asked.
“Some I think?”
Ridley grinned and picked up an acoustic guitar, handing it to her, before taking her favourite since high school, a cream coloured Sterling Cutlass. Ridley took a few more things including an amp out by the pool with them and set them up. YFN texted Lucy the address before they settled in for a swim and a play. Watching Chiquito get in the water and swim was one of the strangest things she’d ever seen, and it was hilarious to see him all soaked as he got out. They sun-baked for a while in their bikini’s and had a few jam sessions, the music coming back to YFN. Ridley could tell how much she’d missed it and the calm that came with it that she enjoyed. Snacks, guitars, swimming, Chiquito. It was perfect. They’d lost track of time, the sun getting lower in the sky. YFN was sprawled out on her sunbed in her bikini and open button up, eyes closed and listening to Ridley as she jammed to a song. Ridley was proud of her musical intelligence, following flows and creating her own melodies. She was sitting partially cross-legged on her sunbed, also in her bikini and button up, Bose headphones on and head moving to the sounds she was improvising. They had Spotify playing popular songs that she was improvising solos to, eyes closed and in her happy place. Chiquito was by her foot, now fluffy again with the sun drying his fur, curled up with his paw draped over her foot. He was a touchy cat.
She was in the middle of a solo to The Chain by Fleetwood Mac, one of her favourite songs, when a grape hit her head. She was undisturbed and reached for it, popping it into her mouth before another one hit her and she got the hint, her eyes opening to a sight she hadn’t expected.
Lucy was there. With Ona Batlle. And Keira Walsh. And Alexia.
Alexia would have been lying if she said she wasn’t turned on by the sight of Ridley jamming away in her bikini. YFN threw a grape at her, impacting her temple but she didn’t flinch, she stayed in her zone, even popping the grape into her mouth as her fingers expertly navigated her instrument. She opened her eyes at the second grape, though, her eyes immediately finding Alexia with a grin before they roamed over the others she was with. She popped the second grape in her mouth and tilted her head, pulling her headphones down around her neck.
“What in the world of football lesbians do we have here?”
Another grape hit her head. This one was thrown by Lucy, though, from her spot on the bottom of YFN’s sunbed.
“Are you secret royalty?” Lucy asked.
“No, just materialistic, I guess.”
Lucy chuckled at that and Alexia could tell they were already good friends. “I brought a few people, I hope you don’t mind. I drove them all to practise this morning.”
YFN was standing, introducing herself to Keira and Ona. Keira was happy to meet her, hugs and all. Ona was a little quieter than usual, Alexia realised. It had been last minute that they’d diverted and she hadn’t realised YFN would be here, she supposed.
“The more, the merrier.”
“The pool looks tempting. I would ask for a swim, but the sun is setting and we don’t have bikini’s.”
“I wouldn’t be opposed to a little skinny dipping, Bronze,” she replied with a wink.
“Riddlessss…” Came the warning from YFN. “Play nice.”
Ridley put her hands up in a gesture of submission. “Party wrecker.”
YFN rolled her eyes. “Ona, Keira, this is Ridley, Ridley, this is half of the Barca team,” she said with a laugh. It was a happy sound that made Lucy turn around just to look at her. She stepped forward and put a hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder where she sat. “And you already know Lucy and Alexia.”
Ridley gave a wave. “Hola. And this is Chiquito. Welcome to our home.” She gestured around her as she picked up the little grey cat. “Have you come to take my friend away?”
Ridley stood then, most of her body on show. Alexia couldn’t physically help but stare at her. So many scars she hadn’t noticed before. And…tattoos? Ridley wandered over closer to the group, not bothering to close the button up like YFN had. With a body like that, she didn’t blame her.
“Sure have. I hear you helped YFN find a dress for Friday?”
“Not ‘helped’.” YFN said. “She did everything. And accessories. And hair. And Jordan’s outfit also. I can’t wait for you to see it!” She gushed leaning further onto Lucy. Alexia knew she didn’t mean to be so touchy in front of Ona, it was just how they were together. Thinking that, she remembered Ridley’s fingertips on her hand at the restaurant the other night, her lips on her cheek as she said goodbye, her fingertips rubbing her clit into her orgasm and through it-
“La Reina?”
That pulled her from her daze, her eyes immediately locking with Ridley’s.
“Si?”
“Are you okay with it?”
“With what…?”
Ridley’s smile and eyebrow raise made her feel like she knew she was the reason she was so distracted. That stunning face. Alexia was…nervous. It was an unusual feeling.
“I asked Ridley if she wanted to come tonight and she only will if you’re okay with it.” Lucy responded. She was standing now, one arm around YFN’s hip.
Alexia cleared her throat quietly and responded quickly trying to not be so obvious about wanting exactly that. “Si…yes I’m okay with it.”
Alexia tore her gaze off of Ridley, finding anything else. Her eyes fell on YFN who was biting her lip and Alexia wondered what she was thinking before she spoke. “We can meet you at the bar if you want?”
Ah, she must have been thinking about an awkward car ride sitting between Ona and Keira.
“Your clothes…” Lucy reminded her.
“I have plenty of clothes here. Many different sizes. We’ll find something cute for her to wear.” Ridley was confident.
Alexia wondered exactly why she had so many clothes, and her brain immediately thought of women she had over. Was it for them?
“It is…a boy?” Ona asked in broken English, stepping closer to Ridley and looking at Chiquito.
“Si.” She took a small step forward for Ona to pat. Ona was very much an animal lover. Keira stepped forward also when she realised how cuddly he was.
“How old is he?” She asked.
“Just turned one.”
“You adopted him?”
“She rescued him while she was in Dubai,” YFN answered for her.
Ridley rescued him? The thought of her seeing the little cat and wanting to take him home to Spain moved something in her. Her heart softened. He was very much obsessed with his mum, from the way he looked at her. Alexia felt a sadness in her stomach for her Pomeranian, Nala, who she’d recently lost. She pushed that emotion aside and gave way to the next which surprisingly was a deep jealousy, watching both Ona and Keira so close to Ridley, brushing up against her as they patted Chiquito in her arms. Keira stepped back first, being more of a dog than a cat person and even while Ona was still patting him, he looked over at Alexia and extended a paw in a stretch, slowly blinking. She thought she was going crazy, thinking he was gesturing to her when Ridley caught her attention.
“I think he wants to meet you.”
Alexia hesitated, not allowing herself to look up at Ridley just yet, for fear of daydreaming or doing something stupid again. She stepped towards the cat who was leaning into Ona’s hands, though looking at the Barca captain as she came so close she was almost touching Ridley. She stroked her fingertips through his soft, longish grey hair, noticing there wasn’t much of him. He was still a baby. And he was adorable.
“He’s intelligent, no?” She asked in Spanish.
“Si, very much so,” Ridley replied in perfect Spanish.
Ona’s head shot up. “You speak Spanish?”
“Of course, I live and work here.”
“Most people don’t bother to learn.”
She shrugged. “You learnt English, no? It’s rude to move to a country and not try to learn the language.”
“Wow, your Spanish is so good!” She complimented, listening to it roll off of her tongue. Ridley smirked at her and that jealously hit Alexia hard again. Very, very hard. So hard she felt sick and took a step back. She looked over at Lucy who’s eyes widened as she noticed.
“Okay, should we stop patting Ridley’s cat and go?” It was a deliberate sexual innuendo, obvious enough to earn her a slap on the arm by YFN. They grinned at each other.
“I’ll see you there. Text me the address.”
“Actually, we’re going to Javier’s bar…” Alexia said.
“Javier?” Ridley seemed confused and the look in her eye was almost as if she would back out. Alexia wasn’t surprised, she would have a lot of people flirting with her there. She couldn’t imagine she’d get through the night without spending some time up in one of the private rooms with someone.
“Is that okay?” YFN asked, a hand going onto her friend’s arm.
“Si,” she replied, pulled from her thoughts, her eyes finding Alexia’s. “Yes, we’ll see you there.”
Alexia was sitting on a bar stool, her leg bouncing as they waited. All of the Barca girls were there and having a good time. It was the middle of the week, so they weren’t drinking, just having dinner and chatting away. A hand touched her knee gently and she turned to Lucy who was giving her a look. A look that said ‘calm down, everything is okay.’
“They’ll be here soon.”
They’d arrived earlier, and Alexia knew that. Just as she said that, they walked through the door. She knew that because of the regulars greeting Ridley, and Lucy’s head snapping to watch YFN like she sensed she was there. Lucy stood automatically and Alexia couldn’t help but chuckle. They were just as bad as each other. While Ridley was tied up with some of the staff and regulars, Lucy introduced YFN around the table. Alexia forced herself to talk to Mapi and Ingrid across from her, distracting herself. She’d only lost sight of Ridley for a few minutes when the hair on her neck tingled and she smelled her perfume as she came up behind her.
“Is this seat taken?” She asked in Spanish.
Alexia shook her head as Ridley took a seat to her left, but not before introducing herself to Mapi and Ingrid over their table who gave Alexia a look. It was common knowledge around the team by now of Alexia’s ‘crush’. The ‘one who made her so grumpy’ Oshoala had said.
“Alexia!” Came another voice from behind her. She turned in her seat and grinned at Javier who had his arms outstretched as he came in for a hug and a kiss on either cheek. “Ridley was telling me about how your friends are dating…small world, yes?” He laughed.
“Apparently so,” she grumbled.
He laughed again at that. Javier was not stupid. He knew people. Not of people. But…people. What made them tick. It’s what made him so good at his job. “Servers will be around soon, I’m heading off for an early night, I just wanted to say hello first.”
“Sexy date?” Ridley asked.
“Oh baby, you know it. I’m going to blow his socks off.”
They shared a hand clap and a cheeky look between them. Javier said his goodbyes and left, but not before slipping something to Ridley that she caught out of the corner of her eye. Her stomach sank. Was it a room key, so she could fuck someone?
Lucy and YFN returned to their seats on the right side of Alexia, Lucy grabbing the bottom of YFN’s chair and dragging it right up against hers. Cute. Although Ridley wasn’t as close, she was very aware that she was right next to her, no matter where she looked.
“Alexia?” A small voice came from behind her.
She turned in her chair to see a young girl in a Barca jersey holding up a little teddy. Alexia took it out of politeness.
“Hola. Would you like me to sign this?” She asked in Spanish with a smile.
“No, that’s a present for you. Could I get a photo?”
Alexia smiled and nodded. She knelt down next to the girl and held the teddy up, one arm going around her as her mother took a photo of both of them.
“Thank you for my teddy, it’s very cute.”
“Her name is Nala.” Alexia hesitated, not able to find words. “Because you lost Nala.”
The melancholy must have been written on her face because her mother stepped forwards putting her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Alexia. She heard you lost Nala and wanted to give you something…I hope it’s okay?”
“Y..yes.” She replied, her voice cracking. “Yes of course, sorry, you caught me off guard. Thank you for this.” The last part was directed to the girl who smiled.
She watched them as they walked off and she returned to her barstool, holding the teddy to her with one arm. Nala. Fingertips touched her hand. She looked at Ridley who had lost all cheekiness, her eyes sincere.
“Are you okay?” The question was soft and just between the pair.
Alexia nodded. “Si, thank you.”
“She’s cute,” she murmured, looking at the teddy.
Her fingertips left her then and the skin where they were became cold.
The rest of the night was full of good talks, and a few awkward moments. Ona had been unable to stop her eyes wandering to Lucy, and it was obvious to everyone at the table besides her. YFN made her way around to talk to different people, Ridley mingling also. Ona had been flirting with Ridley and Alexia wondered if it was intentional, or just to distract herself from Lucy. From what she’d seen, Ridley had been polite about it, but that hadn’t stopped the jealousy. They all moved around, not really keeping their seats as they spoke to each other. Alexia kept her little teddy close so it wouldn’t be covered in drinks or food.
“Ridley!”
Ridley turned, so did Alexia who was a few people down from her. He was a handsome guy who’d had a few to drink, and he spoke to Ridley like he knew her.
“Hola.”
“It’s me!” He said in Spanish with a slur.
She tilted her head.
“Max?”
“Oh! Max. Hola.” She seemed uninterested and as if he’d interrupted them, which he had. Still, her reaction caught Alexia off guard because she was usually nice to everyone.
He frowned. “I thought you’d be more excited to see me.”
“I’m with friends, Max. Is everything okay?”
“I just wanted to know if you’re free.”
“Clearly not.”
Another frown. “I’m beginning to think you don’t like me…”
“I’ve told you multiple times in the past that I don’t.”
“Come on baby.” He grabbed her jaw. “I wanna see what that mouth can do.”
Alexia took a step forwards but stopped as YFN grabbed her arm. “She’s got this.” She murmured.
Ridley slapped his hand away. “My mouth can do a lot of things…” She teased.
“Like what baby?”
“Like hurt your feelings. Now fuck off.”
He didn’t take it well and his jaw flexed as Ridley turned her back on him. A woman came over and grabbed his arm, dragging him away before returning and grabbing Ridley, spinning her around.
Ridley groaned. “What in the one mutual friend do you want?”
“That’s my boyfriend.”
“I’m sorry. Do you need a therapist? I have a great one I can recommend.”
A few of the Barca girls chuckled under their breath, enjoying the show.
“Fuck you. He’s a great guy! He was just being nice!”
“You see a lot of potential in a guy who obviously sleeps on a mattress on the floor.”
Alexia coughed to cover a laugh and from the side of Ridley’s mouth smirking, she knew she heard it.
“You’re just a fucking-”
“Uh uh.” Ridley cut off. “Before you try to hurt my feelings, take into account that I don’t have any, and that you probably do. Now go back to your boyfriend and maybe give him some attention so he’ll stop trying to pick up women in the bar like he does every other night.”
“He does not.”
She shrugged. “Just warning you. Have fun.”
“He’s…he just like sex. He’s the reason I’m happy.”
“Good for you. I’m the reason a lot of people drink heavily. Now fuck off before I call security.”
She raised her hand, gesturing to the security guard watching them. The woman looked over and thought about it until she gave up and walked away. Ridley nodded to the security guard who nodded back and kept an eye on them.
Ridley turned back around to the applause of the Barca girls and Alexia would be lying if she said she wasn’t incredibly turned on. Apparently Ona was also as she leant in and shared a chuckle with her about the ordeal. Alexia turned away but couldn’t find a distraction anywhere. Across from her, Mapi and Ingrid were kissing, and to her right, YFN and Lucy were getting closer, talking lowly with their eyes loving each other. She couldn’t be mad, but she was. So mad. Behind the madness she could feel loneliness and sadness. She looked at the time. 9pm. They had training tomorrow.
“I’m going to head off,” she murmured thinking no one would hear. They did.
“Already?” Lucy asked before looking at the time, her eyes widening and turning to YFN. “We need to get you to bed.”
YFN had an early flight.
“We’ll come too,” Mapi nodded.
“I want to stay,” Ona said, but it was directed more at Ridley. Her eyes flicked to Lucy and back though.
Alexia didn’t even want to hear the response, thinking about the room key in her pocket. She stood and said her goodbyes, holding her teddy close as she walked out with Lucy, YFN, Mapi, Ingrid, and a few others.
“Who needs a lift?” Lucy asked.
Alexia, Mapi and Ingrid put their hand up for that. Oshoala offered to take Patri and Keira home while Caroline and Marta were going together.
On the way to the car, they were approached by two young men wanting autographs. Alexia had seen them before, and knew they didn’t care about them, they just used their autographs to make money. The Barca girls brushed them off but they were insistent. One of them was going for Lucy and pushed YFN out of the way. She stumbled and fell to her knees.
Lucy saw red and shoved him away, helping YFN back onto her feet, putting her behind her protectively. “Get the fuck away from her.”
He put his hands up and backed away, Lucy waiting until far enough away to look at YFN’s scraped hands. She put her in the passenger side and closed the door, holding the rear door open for the others. Ingrid jumped in and Mapi was shoving the other insistent guy away before he got to the Norwegian. Alexia was last, and obviously his prime target.
“Alexia!” He held out something for her to sign. She ducked her head kept walking to the car. “What, so you’ll only sign it if I’m a girl? Typical lesbian.”
What he said was disgusting, but it wasn’t something she hadn’t heard before. She kept walking to the car as he backed away, though he seemed to change his mind and before she got to the car, he snatched the teddy from her arms and ran away.
“No!” She yelled after him. Nala. He jumped into the car his friend was in, both laughing as they started the engine. Alexia knew better than to pursue in case she was hurt and just stood there, her arm still outstretched a little from when she’d tried to stop him. She couldn’t help the tears that fell from her eyes. A hand touched her arm and she turned. Ridley. One look at her face and Ridley’s jaw flexed, her expression changing to something Alexia hadn’t seen before. Ridley ran to their car as they started it up and grabbed the door handle. It was locked. They stuck their finger up at her and started to drive off. She ran with them and that’s when she smashed the front window in with her fist. It took a few tries and Alexia gasped when she watched it, knowing how much it must have hurt. The guys yelled and hit the brakes as she leant through the window and grabbed the teddy. She left them there, and wandered back over to Alexia, her anger disappearing as she did so. The car sped off behind her. Alexia looked wide eyed at Ridley as she handed the teddy back to her as if it was nothing.
“Some things can’t be replaced.” She murmured, not meeting her eyes.
Alexia’s lips trembled and she wiped the tears from her eyes, taking it and holding it close to her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now, can you drive my car to hospital please? I broke my hand.”
169 notes · View notes
dolliied · 9 months
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all 4 u // e42! miles morales
↳ in which miles would do anything for you, even if it meant getting into harms way for you <3
↳ fem! black! reader x 42! miles morales
↳ cw; fluff, a little angst (maybe), comfort, miles isn’t his usual stoic self here (at least around you)
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the frantic tapping at your window dragged you out your trance. you turned from your desk that was littered in homework to it, revealing a dark silhouette, one that seemed oddly familiar. miles.
you quickly hurried off to the window, opening it with a click, letting miles stumble in. “miles?” you spoke, worry dripping in your tone. he only let out a pained groaned as he basically fell onto your queen sized bed. “what happened?” you pressed, but he didn’t speak, resorting to show where his side was bruised.
“you know that guy from earlier?” he spoke, his voice strangled and breathless.
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you and miles walked through the crowded mall, just browsing and laughing as you guys sipped on your drinks, cracking jokes with eachother.
“no, and the she has the nerve to post that corny shit on her story like girl if you don’t get outta here!“ you finished, you and miles starting up again in your fits of laughter.
“hol’ on baby ima go use the bathroom real quick” he said, pressing a quick peck to your cheek as he sauntered off. you stood in front of the beauty supply, just looking at the stuff that we’re trying to lure you in from the entrance of the store.
all of a sudden, some random guy came up to you. he looked.. interesting to say the least. he looked around you and miles age.
“hey ma. i feel like i’ve seen you from somewhere.” at this point, you could tell he was trying to use some weird, desperate way to coax you into giving him your socials as you’ve surely never seen this man a day in your life, but you wouldn’t budge.
“well, i can assure you, i’ve never seen you a day in my life” you spoke, eyeing him up and down subtly. you turned away but were caught real off guard when he grabbed you by the arm to turn you back to face him.
“nah really i-“ he spoke before you cut him off.
“yo i already said i don’t know you so don’t you ever put your hands on me” you yelled. you saw miles coming out of the bathroom already so you shoulder bumped past the guy to go stand next to him.
“you good mama?” he asked, looking at you before looking at the guy
“he’s over here tryna get my number and shii and i told him no and shit and he touched me like what the fuck” you mumbled to him, frustrated at the situation.
he just mugged the guy. “if she said she ain’t wanna give you her number why you pressing her bruh. whatever it ain’t even worth it man, let’s go baby” he said, turning you guys around to keep walking.
“whatever yo bitch ain’t even fine anyways!” the guy yelled at y’all’s backs. it really seemed to get under miles skin but he didn’t do anything after that.
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“the one from the mall? yea, why?” you asked, sitting next to him on the bed.
“i saw him again on the street in my way here and he was talking mad shit to his friend about you, so i got mad and started swinging but his weak ass homeboy jumped in and started hitting me and shit. i got em both off me but the guy landed hard ass hits.” he muttered. you sighed at him.
“you shouldn’t have baby” you pouted. “i don’t care about what he gotta say. he a bum ass nigga and you not so why you focused on him.”
you walked out to you kitchen, making an ice pack for him, you walked back to your room to see him looking at a book you had just started reading a few days ago.
“here, out this on your side” you said, handing him the ice pack and helping him lift his shirt.
“damn mama if you wanted to get freaky just say that” he said, smirking.
“miles.”
“sorry.”
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my first lil fic 😝
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I like the show version of Chishiya, and here’s why.
I love manga!Chishiya, but he always felt pretty one-dimensional to me. His backstory is one of parental neglect, similar to Arisu. Chishiya basically fails to develop a sense of empathy (unlike Arisu, who just has ye olde Main Character Syndrome). He decides to enter med school because he thinks that a profession where he saves lives might actually help him grow a Give-a-Shitter. Spoiler: it doesn’t.
Manga!Chishiya is an emotional flat line. He doesn’t care about other characters because he can’t. I remember thinking that he had a lot of the same traits as a serial killer. He viewed the world through nothing but intellect, and other people were either nonexistent or pawns to be used to further his own ends. Even the idea that maybe being responsible for the lives of others will help him grow some empathy is a chilling one.
That’s cool. I actually really like those kinds of characters. I also think there are enough characters like that in the story. Characters who you look at and think, “Okay, yes, you are terrible.” The big problem is that it makes his weird self-sacrifice with Usagi absolutely senseless. Like, it came out of nowhere. There wasn't any sort of satisfying build-up where I felt like, "Okay, yeah, this makes sense."
His updated backstory adds a dimension that wasn’t present in the manga version. Rather than simply lacking empathy for other people, you can actually see the moment in which he makes the conscious decision to turn it off. He has this light bulb moment where he realizes that the world is a cruel and unfair place. He realizes that allowing himself to feel for other people is only going to hurt him in the end because he’s powerless to change the systems that are actively harming them. It's better to protect himself and survive.
Chishiya is a selfish character, but the idea that his selfishness stems out of a desire to protect himself from pain gives his character some actual depth that was always missing for me. It also makes the King of Diamonds game a lot more meaningful. Kuzuryu went through the same exact thing, but instead of turning off his feelings, he paralyzed himself with a moral dilemma. Where Chishiya chose to treat all human life as equally worthless, Kuzuryu couldn’t stop looking for some value to assign, whether that was to ease his conscience or to inform a sense of justice he was desperately trying to find.
I really, really like how that dichotomy played out.
I also think it's interesting that Chishiya feels a lot more psychological in the show. He's clearly highly intelligent in both the manga and the show, and maybe it's just Murakami's performance, but there's something more sinister to him. He's clearly developed some sort of friendly relationship with Kuina. He displays an ability to be playful and seems to genuinely be extending an offer of friendship to Arisu (up until he sells him out for one corn chip). Seeing how he can make these connections that feel genuine to the people involved (unlike his manga self who is pretty universally despised) and still be willing to fuck those people over for his own survival makes him feel a lot more menacing to me.
This ability to flawlessly manipulate and betray also means he has a deep understanding of human emotion, which is illogical by nature. In the manga, Chishiya says outright that he isn't suited for Hearts games, but show!Chishiya feels tailor-made for them.
It's also interesting that in the manga, he seems to get harsher and more isolated. By contrast, in the show, he feels to me like he softens episode by episode. It really struck me in the Jack of Hearts game when he said something about his partner dying because he was too kind. On the surface, you could take it as a typical judgy Chishiya comment, but there actually appeared to be a glimmer of sadness, or envy, or regret. Or all of the above. Or maybe it's just Murakami Nijiro's face that made me think that. Either way, I think it was smart of the showrunners to throw him in that game.
In the end, the King of Diamonds game pushes him to the realization that he really is envious of people who have the ability to be kind. He's envious of people who can make the selfless choice. And it's not because he can't be. It's because he's closed himself off to the vulnerability that allows a person to make that kind of decision. You can't truly save others if you're always protecting yourself.
So, he saves Usagi to try to become that person. And I don't feel it was out of character at all.
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shitswiftiessay · 4 months
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so taylor has put out another hit piece against joe (who’s surprised)
after buying winning the TIME person of the year award 2023, and having a gushing puff piece that’s supposed to paint her as this trailblazer for women and feminist icon…
she made sure to dedicate a significant portion of it to talking about her boyfriends. 🙄
so here are the cringeworthy excerpts where she’s talking about her latest victim boyfriend.
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“Football is awesome, it turns out. I’ve been missing out my whole life.”
I love how she single handedly debunked the claim that swifties have been making, that taylor ALWAYS loved football and was a huge eagle fan (just bc she had an eagles shirt). now it’s basically confirmed that this football shit is just taylor’s newest PERSONALITY that she’s gonna wear for a few months, until she gets bored of it, and then she’ll throw travis under the bus and she’ll start siccing her fans against him.
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“This all started when Travis very adorably put me on blast on his podcast, which I thought was metal as hell.”
god, someone bring me a BARF BUCKET please. 🪣 🤮 and since when is it “adorable” for a guy to PUT YOU ON BLAST because you wouldn’t go out with him or take his number?? that’s… very weird. i’m sure she wouldn’t find it “adorable” if she wasn’t interested in the guy. but anyway, i’m pretty sure she just saw an opportunity here and she took it. she can’t handle being single for more than a month, she needed a new man to make people forget about her matty healy era. and she’s LOVING the good press she’s getting for being “America’s royal couple” as her fans are calling them. but does she actually LOVE HIM? that, I remain yet to be convinced about.
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and I love this part. “We would never be psychotic enough to hard-launch a first date.”
yeah, taylor’s not CRAZY you guys, it’s not like she said “I love you” to matty healy on stage back in may before breaking up with him 2 weeks later. nah. it’s not like she immediately bought a house next to her teenage boyfriend connor kennedy who was STILL IN HIGH SCHOOL when she started dating him. nah. that would be CRAZY. PSYCHOTIC even!!
and here comes the part where she starts passive aggressively smearing joe and we all know she’s on a smear campaign against joe now but it’s kind of pathetic that even while winning PERSON OF THE YEAR she has to make it about that.
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so taylor obviously has a lot to say about her new relationship, and how proud they are of each other. but you know what I DON’T hear her saying? “I’m in love” or “I’m happy with him.”
and personally, i think that speaks volumes. if she was truly HAPPY with her new man she wouldn’t be doing all this shit. if you were around when taylor broke up with calvin and then immediately started hard-launching hiddleswift, taking pap photo after pap photo and being extremely “happy” she was and meeting his mom and all that shit…. and if you don’t see the parallels between what she’s doing NOW with travis, you’re either a blind fan or just flat out stupid.
because at least when she started dating joe she actually left her exes alone (at least for a little while), she was like “I forget their names now.” and you can tell she was happy without having to make a big show of it- “nobody’s heard from me for months, I’m doing better than I ever was.”
but now she’s acting like it’s the worst thing ever that she was “locking herself in her house for a lot of years,” and she KNOWS that her fans are going to take that and blame joe for it.
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JUST LOOK at the quotes and replies of this tweet and this tweet to see how those insane fucking swifties are acting over this. EVERYTHING she does now is an incitement against joe and she knows it, it’s deliberate, it’s calculated.
and i guess she’s gotta bury him while she continues hanging out with a sexual abuse apologist so she can look like she has some kind of moral high ground.
also, the way she’s trying to erase the fact that 11 of the 15 songs on reputation were LOVE SONGS about joe, not “a goth-punk moment of female rage at being gaslit by an entire social structure.”
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this woman is just narcissistic and straight up DELUSIONAL at this point. she’s so far up her own ass it’s nauseating. but i really hope that she keeps on talking. because the more she talks, the more people realise what a narcissistic clown she is. 🤡
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Round 1 - Side B
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Propaganda below ⬇️
Matt
Matt's faith in the show is really important and well explored; one of the first scenes of the show is Matt going to confession (or, well, talking to his priest since he's not really confessing at that point). Matt struggles a lot with what he's supposed to do; everyone's telling him to kill the villain and he kinda wants to, but he literally says: "I know my soul is damned if I take his life". He struggles with his faith and goes with his doubts to his priest, and it's beautiful—also when he finally gets a costume for his vigilanteing he chooses to dress as the devil, lol. (His priest tells him that nothing makes people run to Church faster than the feeling of having the devil on their heels.)
a lot of the show is about how he justifies his vigilante actions with his faith, and whether he's doing the right thing in trying to help people or just using it as an outlet for his anger. the literal first scene of the show has him in a confession booth talking to his priest (who is a really interesting character too). this is not the scene I was talking about but it's such an excellent scene with matt talking to his priest: https://youtu.be/XHZ3NbEIDdw
canonically catholic but dresses like a demon to be quirky
honestly i dont wanna type too much but i feel that matt is a great example of someone who battles with his faith because he rarely loses his faith but rather fights with why he was made the way he was and put through what he was. He believes himself to have the devil inside him but believes that God put him there
ok in the comics barring the most current run matt has Mostly been a non-practicing Catholic that very rarely actually does any catholic Activities but ends up falling back into the Mindset and very occasionally dramatically taking confession (ex. in that one issue where he takes confession, basically tells the father that he is uniquely terrible and is thinking about violently murdering someone and when the father says "you can be forgiven" hes like "AUGFH-- NO!!!!!!!!!!" and runs out) when he's gone through some shit. and i love that its so relatable
hello its me cct organizer. i have to come clean, i made this tournament because i need matt to win something. i dont think hell win the sadboy and he lost the ginger tournament and >:( hes my favoritest guy ever. Also @ who said he has religious trauma is wrong and i will fight u about it (nicely) on my main @usaigi
This guy so catholic he spends an ungodly amount of time just chilling in the church. And goes there whenever there is a moral conundrum about killing people being Bad even though it would solve a lot of problems and stop said people from killing other people. This happens every other episode. Matt is the Catholic Guilt Guy. There's actually a lot of catholic stuff in the show as a whole. Just a compilation would be like three whole episodes long.
Hes great hes catholic enough to not outrught murder people but not catholic enough to not fuck before marriage hes a bisexual disaster at all times hes besties with a priest might i add hes great hes my special little guy
his catholicism is a huge piece of his characterisation he was raised by nuns in a catholic orphanage, the first scene we ever see him (as an adult and not a flashback) is him going to confession, he is good friend with his priest and has regular debates with him, etc also in s3 he has a huge crisis of faith after he lost A Lot where he stops believing for a while and it's linked to his identity crisis where he actually wants to kill another person (a hard line he previously chose never to cross) and wants to be only daredevil and not matt murdock, when he is both and needs both to exist also when he was a kid his grandmother used to say "watch out for the murdock boys, they've got the devil in them" and it created a surprising lot of his issues
So he's both catholic in the comics and the show but he's More Catholic in the show. Like, raised in a catholic orphanage by nuns (ONE OF WHICH IS HIS *MOTHER*), second scene in the show has him in a confession box kind. Matt Murdock goes out and gets the shit beaten out of him nightly and also beats the shit out of other people and purposefully leaned into devil iconography as his theme. When his nurse friend says, he takes a lot of punishment without one complaint he says "That part's the Catholicism." It is a Core Aspect of his character (at least in the show). He makes me insane. Also the same chemicals that blinded him created the teenage mutant ninja turtles and everyone should know that.
They went to confession to a priest who they had saved as their costumed counterpart and the guy recognized them by the voice, proving that it's possible and everyone else is just dumb
he takes "i wanna fight god" to new and incredibly violent levels, while also being a sweetheart and a goofball
Actually strictly WILL NOT kill criminals. Goes wayyy out of his way to avoid it. Fights with the Punisher about it. Goes to confession booth after nightly vigilante excursions. Feels so much guilt. "How have you been holding up?" "Like a good Caltholic boy" "that bad huh" - actual conversation with his priest
So Daredevil struggles with his mission as a crime fighter because killing criminals goes against his faith. He makes it a point to not kill criminals, believing that even bad people deserve a second chance. This philosophy puts him at odds against The Punisher, who is a relentless killer. As a Catholic myself, while I love the concept of a morally conflicted superhero, I think the worldbuilding around Daredevil is lacking. If he struggles with violence and killing, why doesn't he pray to warrior saints like Saint Michael, Saint Ignatius of Loyola (a former knight), or Saint Joan of Arc? Why isn't there a community of other Catholics he can turn to for guidance, considering New York City has a sizeable population of Catholics? And why are the churches he goes to always empty? Doesn't he know that the Catholic Church supports the just war theory? I think that would have made his burden more bearable.
He goes to church and confesses to punching people and says "imma do it again can i apologize in advance" and the father dude says "no you're meant to stop now" and Matt says "no" and they do this everyday. I'm not remembering it properly but this is a canon interaction i swear
HELLO HI YES I LOVE HIM AND WILL INFOR DUMP ok so. he is a vigalantty and he got named daredevil and he is an orphan and after the age of 12 was raised in an orphanage at a Catholic church and his therapist is his priest via confession abd. also his mother is a nun he has a whole mental breakdown over god and called Job a pussy because he liked god until he got better and liked god again he said "I'm dearedrvil and not even god can stop that now" and he's so cool
matt is a freakish little babygirl who was raised by nuns and definitely has religious trauma. i hate him so much (affectionately)
he’s literally fucking insane about it i don’t know what to say here. he thinks he’s chosen by god to go on some sort of holy quest to save hell’s kitchen. joan of arc ass.
i already know hes in by default j just wanted to give him a personal shout out i love this angsty catholic dweeb
how practicing he is depends on the run, but in my favorite he is quite literally confessing to a member of the last extant order millitant who happens to be a priest at a church in hells kitchen.
i love him for having the funniest version of a trope i usually hate (person gets into confession booth and asks forgiveness not for what they've done, but for what they're about to do). usually this trope just looks silly to me bc like. the priest would just say "i can't do that" and you would have to either awkwardly explain yourself or just Leave. it's funny when matt does it because fr. lantom is probably like "what are you gonna do???" and matt's like "lol. lmao. 😊 hehehe." anyway we love this angry catholic man who dresses up like the devil to beat people up in hell's kitchen
Harrowhark
I'm pretty sure you've already got plenty of submissions for her so I'll just say she was raised in what is basically a cult (technically a nunnery but let's be real) dedicated to keeping the body of the thing that will kill God behind the rock. One of their prayers is actually "I pray the rock is never rolled away". Harrow is extremely devout as penance for her earlier heretical actions in the tomb as a child (spoiler!) so the Catholic guilt really comes through
imagine being a catholic nun and you meet god, but it turns out he’s a twitch streamer from new zealand who became god because everything got a little bit out of hand. and just before you met him you gave yourself a diy grief-fuelled lobotomy with the help of your best frenemy. imagine how insane you’d be. now multiply that insanity by nine. that’s the fictional love of my life right there.
she meets god. she’s not inspired
she’s number one practitioner of space Catholicism. The locked tomb is chock full of Christian (catholic) imagery themes metaphors etc. just look at her she’s got a bone rosary
They're Catholicism with extra bones. Everyone is a nun. They have what is basically a rosary made from knuckle bones. They technically worship the same God as everyone else, but they're waaaay more focused on The Body in the Tomb (Mary) and we get a moment where we find out that while everyone else prays the equivilent of The Lords Prayer, they're doing the equivilent of Hail Mary. And they paint their faces with skulls.
She thinks leaving dry bread in a drawer is taking care of someone. She's in love with a 10,000 year old corpse (the same one they worship). She spent ALL NIGHT digging with her bare hands to make sure a field had bones every 5 feet so she could fight her girlfriend - I mean, greatest enemy. Spoiler territory: She's been puppeting her parents corpses since she was 8 years old. Instead of grieving her dead girlfriend, she gives herself a lobotomy. She makes soup with bone in it so she can use the bone IN THEIR STOMACH to try and kill them.
The author is/was Catholic and the entire series had heavy Catholic overtones. https://www.tor.com/2020/08/19/gideon-the-ninth-young-pope-and-the-new-pope-are-building-a-queer-catholic-speculative-fiction-canon/ A good breakdown of how it's Catholic
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3liza · 2 months
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today i made the mistake of looking at my Patreon earnings graph over the past ten years,
and moving into this apartment with the ex who is currently moving out basically instantly halved my earnings, with a further reduction after he sexually assaulted me while i was in a k-hole from medical ketamine infusions which were supposed to be the last ditch effort to fix my PTSD from prior trauma, but which ended up being a massive waste of money because he instantly retraumatized me, basically sweeping $7000 of my money into a big pile on the ground and setting it on fire. so i waited 3 years for him to figure out why he did it and come to me with a plan to fix his heart, he never did. just thought it would go away on its own i guess. and that it wasnt a big deal, or wasnt real, or didnt matter because the only experiences he recognizes as authentic are his own. i asked him why he did it and he said "i dont know" and that was all the explanation i ever got out of him.
it's fascinating to have a realtime line graph showing me exactly how functional or dysfunctional i am as measured in an actual dollar amount, and being able to match it up to real life events. salaried people dont get this kind of data
if jakey is snooping on my blog, from which he is blocked, and reading this, he can go fuck himself. i already paid the rent this month, because it turns out when jakey isnt pestering me i can actually function well enough to make that kind of money.
the moral of this story is to get rid of men instantly the first time they have a significant fuckup, a lesson i have failed to learn about ten times now
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cillmequick · 8 months
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So this was supposed to be the last part of this flashback sequence, except I’ve written almost 10k words and I’m not finished yet 🙈 So here’s the third instalment to tide you over whilst I finish it up. Enjoy!
Summary: Picking up immediately where we left off in 2014, Cillian and Y/N have to face the consequences of their actions.
Warnings: 🔞 Smut. Angst. Infidelity. Basically, all the good stuff. Oh and bad language as ever.
Word count: 5574 PART 22 | SERIES
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Part 23: The Dress, Pt. 3
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February 2014
Feeling far too exposed as she padded naked along the hall, she grabbed his shirt from the floor where they had abandoned it by the front door, on her way to the bathroom, tugging it on for comfort. Sitting on the loo, feeling him leaking out of her, she realised that she was still wearing her hold ups. She pulled them off hastily, embarrassment creeping up her neck to warm her face. What must he think of her showing up in them? Did he think she planned this? That she had intended to try to seduce him? Did they make her look easy?
She buried her face in her hands and groaned.
As she washed her hands she looked at herself in the large mirror above the basin. Her hair was all over the place, curls tangled and messy, eye makeup smudged. Drying her hands she tried to fix the damage, smoothing away the kohl and mascara that had run a little and finger combing the worst of the birds nests away, wincing as her rings snagged in one particularly stubborn section.
She felt like she looked exactly like the woman of low morals she clearly was. What was she doing here? Fucking a married man? She gripped the sink and leant forward, closing her eyes.
But the woman was still there when she opened them, judging her through the mirror.
Eventually she made her way back to the bedroom. He’d switched on another lamp, bathing the room in a soft glow, waiting for her with his back resting against the headboard, arms folded across his bare chest. She tried to ignore how his eyes raked over her as she fumbled to pull on her underwear, feeling marginally better now she was covered up again.
He felt his chest constrict at the sight of her, swathed in his clothes, dark shirt falling to her upper thighs, hair wild and tumbling down her back and over her shoulders. She looked like a fallen angel, watching him uncertainly from the spot she had taken at the end of the bed. He opened his mouth to ask why she was so far away but she beat him to it.
“What’re we doing..?” she asked softly, hugging one of her knees to her chest, large eyes fixed on him.
He ran a palm down his face, glancing up at the ceiling. He’d been asking himself that since she left the room and reality had muscled its way back into his little bubble of bliss.
“Honestly..? I dunno,” he sighed, dropping his gaze to meet hers again, seeing her chewing her lip anxiously as she pushed her hair back, fidgeting.
“Right.. ok yeah.. I should go.” She was off the bed before he even realised what she’d said, leaving him scrambling after her. He caught her by the bedroom doorway, stopping her in her tracks with hands on her arms.
“No, that’s not what I meant. Don’t go. Please?” She stared up at him, her insides twisting at the imploring, earnest look in his eye. “I dunno what this is, or what we’re doing, but I know I don’t want you to leave.”
“Why not?” she whispered, her resolve weakening. It was hard to think straight when he was standing there, large hands holding her gently by the shoulders, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs.
He brushed his knuckles over her cheek, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Because I’m not ready to watch you walk out of my life again.” She shifted, fingers curling into the shirt that hung by her sides to stop herself from touching him and he could see the conflict in her eyes. His thumb grazed over the side of her face. “I know it probably makes me a selfish prick - a more selfish prick - but I know you’re smarter than me and when you leave here I’m never going to see you again.. am I?”
She closed her eyes, as if not looking at him would make her stronger, more able to do the right thing.
“I’m not ready for that, Y/N…. unless you really want to leave..?”
She shook her head, eyes still closed. “I don’t want to go. But…”
He brushed his lips against hers softly and her eyes fluttered open, hands finally finding their home against the warm skin of his chest, the light dusting of hair there tickling her palms.
“Just give me one night, that’s all I ask,” he murmured, pulling back to rest his forehead against hers as he cupped her face. “One night to last me the rest of my life without you.”
She resisted the urge to ask if he’d read that in a script or trashy romance novel somewhere because surely no one would ever say something like that in real life. If one of her writers had tried to sneak something so corny into their work she would be red-penning it into next week.
But she kept silent because deep down she felt exactly the same. Her fingers danced up to his shoulders, coming to rest along the back of his neck, stroking the soft hair she found there.
“So let me get this straight. You want me to stay out of… pity?”
A smile twitched on her lips and he chuckled.
“Yep. I’m pathetic.”
“At last, something we can both agree on.”
She felt the rumble of laughter in his chest as she closed the gap between them, drawing his lips to hers with a gentle pressure on his neck. She was just as pathetic as he was, she thought. She’d take anything he wanted to give, just to prolong the moment where he was hers.
“So you’ll stay?” he whispered as they broke apart.
“As long as we’re clear it’s out of pity,” she grinned as he bumped her nose with his. “I mean, how could I leave?” she added in a whisper, catching his mouth with hers briefly, feeling him lean into her, hands circling her waist. “I could do with a fucking drink though.”
He laughed, fingers lightly kneading the swell of her hips, “You poured wine earlier, right? Before our impromptu Peaky performance?” She nodded, warmth in her cheeks as she remembered the moment on the dining table. His hands sliding up her thighs. Despite her mild mortification, and the number of times she had already cum that evening, she felt a gentle throbbing between her legs at the memory.
“Do you want your shirt back?” she asked, attempting to distract herself.
His hands stroked up and down her sides, returning to her hips, squeezing gently. “I think it looks better on you,” he smirked, laughing as she rolled her eyes.
“Wow. That was fucking smooth, Murphy. Jesus.”
He backed her gently against the doorframe, and her breath caught in her throat as his eyes darkened. “Well to be honest, I’m kind of hoping if you keep wearing it, you’ll let me take it off you again later.”
“Oh yeah?” His nose bumped against hers again, his warm breath fanning over her lips and her core turned to liquid once more.
“M’hmmmm…” he mumbled, lips finding hers, and she moaned despite herself as he licked into her mouth, his hands sliding beneath the fabric, fingers grazing her ribcage, thumb brushing against the curve of her breast. “Shall we maybe have that wine in a bit?” he asked, trailing kisses down the side of her neck, his hardness already digging into her stomach.
“You read my mind,” she gasped as he began to walk her back to bed, unbuttoning her on the way.
*****
It was still dark when he awoke, though given it was February that could mean it was any time from 3am to mid-morning. But he was less concerned about what time it was and more that he was alone in the bed. He ran his hands over the sheets to find them cool to the touch and groped for his phone on the bedside table. He squinted as the bright screen declared it was 05:38.
Pulling himself from bed he saw her shoes and bag were both still by the front door, so she must still be in the flat. But the bathroom door was open and the spare bed was empty. Passing through to the open-plan living area he finally saw her, out on the small balcony terrace, swathed in a blanket, smoke curling around her head. Grabbing something warmer for himself he eased open the sliding door, apologising as she jumped at the sound.
“What’re you doing out here?” His voice was rough with sleep and he cleared his throat as he shuffled in next to her, borrowing the end of the blanket for his legs.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
She flicked a glance at him, lighting a new cigarette. There were already a few stubs in the small ashtray, balanced on the arm of the wicker sofa.
“I thought maybe you’d left.”
She took a long drag, blowing the smoking into the sky above their heads. “I thought about it.”
“Why..?”
She was quiet, avoiding his eyes, fingers fidgeting with the weave of the blanket.
“Y/N..?”
“Because in the morning you’re going to wake up, and I mean really wake up, and realise what you’ve done, Cill.” She pulled agitatedly on a loose thread, the deep plum of her nail polish stark against the pale wool. “And I don’t want to be here when you realise how much of a mistake this was.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
She chanced a look at him, her heart in her throat, the heavy threat of tears pressing behind her eyes. His dark hair was mused from sleep, a faint shadow of stubble showing on his jaw. She couldn’t bear to see him look at her with regret because she would never regret a single moment of it.
“How can it not?” Her voice was barely a whisper, having to force her words past the lump in her throat. “This isn’t you, I know it isn’t.”
He sighed deeply, reaching for her smokes, which she handed over without a word. He sparked one to life, the flame throwing his angled features into sharp relief in the dark of the early morning.
“D’y’know I’ve never so much as looked at another woman since I met Aoife? Not once. Except for you. From the moment I realised who you were that night in New York I wanted something to happen. And I know it makes me an almighty shit, but I never regretted or even felt that guilty about what happened that night.”
She couldn’t agree. The guilt of it had consumed her, imagining his poor wife with their little baby all the way across the ocean, waiting for him to come home. He had been happy then - she could tell - and she had taken advantage of the moment and almost ruined that for him.
“And I never thought I would see you again. That our moment would forever be those two little bright sparks in history.”
She watched him as he spoke in a low voice, looking out into the darkness, the faint clouds from his breath against the cold air mingling with the smoke.
“And then last week…” He paused, running a hand over his hair as a wry smile decorated his face. “Just last week…how does that already feel like a lifetime ago?” He glanced at her and she offered him a small smile and a shrug. She knew exactly how he felt. “You sat here last week and… and I told myself we could be friends. Just friends. Like I haven’t imagined doing what we did earlier hundreds of times, in my weaker moments, over the last eight years.”
God, how many lies had she told herself about how she didn’t want him? That she didn’t have feelings for him. Hadn’t imagined exactly how a night like this might feel - and yet she could never have imagined just how right it would feel.
“Me too,” she whispered, caught in the crosshairs of his serious blue stare. “But I really didn’t mean for this to happen, I hope you don’t—”
He hushed her with a wave of his hand, leaning across to stub out his smoke, not pulling all the way back. He cupped her cheek gently, his warmth radiating across the small space between their bodies and she realised how cold she had become.
“Stop that. I seduced you, Y/N, this is my fault. And I know exactly how wrong it is, but I don’t want it to end. You make me feel alive in a way I haven’t for a long time. When you asked me earlier about what are we doing here… truthfully I have no clue. But there’s one thing I’m sure of - I’m never going to regret this. Nothing about this is a mistake. I promise you that.”
She leaned across to press her lips to his and he pulled her closer, fingers snaking around to cradle the back of her head.
“Now can we go back to bed? It’s fucking freezing,” he asked softly as he drew back and she nodded, letting him pull her to her feet.
Slipping back into bed a short while later she cuddled into his side, her head on his chest. She was shivering, having been outside for longer than she realised, and he wrapped her into him, yelping when her icy feet landed on his calf.
“Sorry,” she giggled, twisting up to grin at him.
“Yeah, you look it,” he grumbled, allowing her to wriggle up so she could kiss the frown from his lips. It was soft and slow at first, lips moulding perfectly together. He couldn’t get over the sensation that they were like two puzzle pieces, meant to fit together. He swiped his tongue across her lips and she parted them with a contented sigh, letting him lick into her mouth.
Her core throbbed lightly as he deepened the kiss, both with arousal and in complaint at being somewhat overworked and underpaid after the numerous rounds they had already gone that evening. He was insatiable (not that she was much better) and she had lost count of the number of times he had coaxed her, shaking and breathless, over the edge of bliss. She hadn’t been with anyone for months and she was certain she would be feeling him for days to come. But as his fingers began to dance over her skin, turning so she was more tucked beneath him, any lingering complaints dissolved into delicious neediness and she pulled him closer.
Ridding her of clothes he slowly traced his fingers along her inner thigh, mouth only leaving hers to drop kisses along her neck and breasts. He grazed his teeth over one stiff nipple, the high whine that left her throat almost sending him over the edge. She curled her fingers into his hair, gasping sharply as he gently pushed one, then two, fingers into her slick cunt.
“Jesus, so fucking wet for me,” he groaned as he slowly began to pump in and out of her.
Her head fell back against the pillows, whimpering as he curved his fingers upward, working his fingertips against the special spot inside her, with a practised ease, making her toes curl in pleasure. Intermittently rolling his thumb across her clit.
“Fuck, Cill, I..” Her orgasm was building so quickly, she almost couldn’t control it. She was certain no one had ever been so in tune with her body, possibly not even herself.
His fingers withdrew and she let out an anguished mewl that made him chuckle as he moved to hover over her, sliding his now aching erection between her slick folds.
“Want to feel you cum around me,” he mumbled softly as she dragged his lips to hers in a heated kiss. Slowly he began to push into her plush heat, their combined moans lost in each other’s mouths as he bottomed out deep inside her.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to how amazing this feels,” he groaned against her lips as he rolled his hips in slow, deep strokes, forehead pressed against hers, their eyes locked. Her heart stuttered at the inference that this wasn’t the last time. And then her chest tightened at the thought that it might be.
And then thoughts became impossible as he shifted slightly and the thick tip of his cock nudged her gspot with every movement. Gasping high whimpers that she might have been embarrassed by had she had the presence of mind to have thought about it, she wrapped herself around him. Pressing her heels into the dip above his ass, she encouraged him deeper still, hands on his shoulders, clinging to him as she chased her high.
“Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me?” he murmured, brushing his lips along her neck and her world imploded. Lights burst behind her closed eyelids, a rushing sound in her ears as her whole body hummed with pleasure. He grunted as her velvet walls gripped him like a vice, knuckles white as he fisted the sheets to hold himself back from following her over the edge.
Slowly she floated back down to earth, eyes fluttering open again to find him watching her with something bordering on awe that made her feel invincible. She raised a hand to his cheek, running her thumb across his lips and he kissed against it as he picked up the pace once more.
She whimpered as his movements grew harder, driving into her dripping cunt with abandon, wet sounds and gasping breath filling the room. She held his face between her hands, his own circling her head, holding himself above her on his forearms as he slammed repeatedly into her.
She saw the moment where his climax began to overtake him, blue eyes glazed with pleasure, as she felt a second building inside her. Rocking her hips in time with his, helping as his movements began to grow less controlled.
“Let go for me, give me it,” she whispered, holding his eyes before they squeezed closed a second later. Her name tumbled from his lips like a prayer as his thrusts stuttered to a stop, hips pressing hard into her as he filled her with all he had. She couldn’t stop from rolling against him, so deep inside, a second shuddering orgasm ripping through her moments after he came, making his hiss as her walls gripped his sensitive shaft.
He blinked slowly, coming back to himself as bliss flowed lazily through his veins, just as she opened her eyes again too. They stared at each other in the dark, her fingers tracing the contours of his face, his stubble scratching pleasantly against her fingertips.
“I never want this night to end,” she whispered before she could stop herself. His thumb brushed across her forehead, fingers lost in her hair spread across the pillow.
“So stay. I don’t have to leave until Monday. Stay with me?”
Looking back later, she realised that was the moment where she abandoned reason. Abandoned guilt. Gave herself up to being the sort of woman she used to judge. He was staring at her with wide, earnest eyes and he wanted her to stay with him. How could she possibly refuse when this was all she had ever wanted?
But there were practicalities to consider.
“I can’t stay here.”
He frowned, a coldness flooding through him, an icy hand gripping his heart. He had been certain from the look in her eyes that she had been going to agree.
“Why not?”
“Because I have to go home and feed my cat.” A cheeky smile spread across her face and he huffed out a breath of relief.
“You‘re hilarious,” he grumbled, leaning down to kiss her softly.
“Weekend at mine?” she added as he drew back, finally slipping from the confines of her warmth, pulling her to rest against his chest as he flopped onto his back.
“No one will see you, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s quiet and my downstairs neighbour will have no idea who you are.” He looked down, affecting wounded pride and she grinned, pecking his lips. “No offence.” She pulled away and his hands reached to stop her. “I’m just going to clean up,” she teased, slipping out his grasp.
“I didn’t know you had a cat,” he announced as she climbed back into bed a few minutes later, tucking in with her back against his chest, hugging the arm he wrapped around her middle
“You’re not allergic are you? Hemingway’s a shedder.” He shook his head, chuckling at her choice of name.
“Weekend at yours it is then,” he agreed quietly, as she snuggled further into his arms, exhaustion finally claiming her to sleep.
*****
When he woke up again there was clear daylight coming in around the curtains. And this time he wasn’t alone; she was still asleep, hair streaming across the white bedsheets, her back to him.
Reaching for his phone he saw with a shock that it was almost ten - far later than he ever usually slept. But then they hadn’t actually gone to bed (the first time) until almost two and then were awake for a while in the middle of the night.
The next thing he noticed, almost before he had assimilated the time, was a text from Aoife sent over half an hour earlier. Clicking through he saw it was a photo of the boys getting ready to go to Eoin’s football match - his team played every Saturday morning. Replying quickly he fought the churning in his stomach; Y/N had been right that things looked different in the cold light of day.
All of a sudden his phone began to buzz in his hand, ‘Aoife Mo’ emblazoned across the screen. He dropped the device like it had burned him and it continued to vibrate against the duvet, rousing Y/N from sleep.
“Wha—?”
“I’ll be back in a minute, go back to sleep,” he urged, grabbing the phone as it finally stopped ringing and climbing out of bed. She rolled onto her back, rubbing her eyes as she enjoyed the view, watching the faint rippling of his muscles as he hunted for his pyjamas. He dragged them on haphazardly, running a hand through his hair, apparently avoiding looking at her.
“Are you ok?”
He glanced up, her tousled waves spread across the pillow, traces of eyeliner still slightly smudged around her large eyes, squinting against the morning light. His stomach flipped as she smiled shyly from just above the duvet.
Christ, he was so completely fucked.
He held his phone out. “Just need to check in with the kids.”
And your wife, she thought with a jolt, the same sick feeling that had kept her awake in the night, spreading in the pit of her stomach.
“I’ll make coffee, but feel free to go back to sleep.” Just don’t make a sound, the unspoken plea hanging in the air between them.
Slipping from the room he closed the door behind him and then the door into the living space for good measure. His palms were clammy as he hit redial on Aoife’s call, mentally rehearsing his lines.
Or, more accurately, his lies.
She answered on the sixth ring. “Hey, sorry I missed you,” he rushed out almost before she could say hello. “I was out on a run and left my phone in the flat so didn’t see the message til I got back, then heard it buzzing when I was in the loo.”
Doth he protest too much, he worried, forcing himself to slow down. Act normal. After all, it was far from the first time he’d done exactly what he had just described - he was notoriously shit with his phone.
“That’s alright, I thought maybe you were still asleep or something even though it’s gone ten, and then I’d have to kill you since Finn had me up at six thirty.”
Oh jesus… he ran his hand down his face. His son had been getting up for the day just as he had been finishing fucking a woman who wasn’t his children’s mother.
He choked out a laugh, grateful for years of acting training to help him be even vaguely convincing. “Ah no, sure when was the last time I slept past half eight? Sorry he had you up so early though. Is he ok?”
“He’s fine, just being Finn. Here, do you want to talk to him?”
He could hear the shouts of other parents and children around her in the background as she handed the phone to his four-year old son. As he said hello a loud cheer echoed down the line.
“Who’s scored?” he asked on instinct and the normalcy of it all seemed to ground him, letting him chat to his son like usual. Like he didn’t have a beautiful, naked woman who wasn’t his wife waiting in his bedroom.
“When are you coming home, daddy?” Finn asked after giving him a blow by blow account of the match so far. He closed his eyes, picturing his son’s face, round blue eyes under a thick thatch of light brown, bordering on blonde, hair falling across his forehead. He knew the exact way his little brow would be creased in query.
“Not for a few more weeks buddy, you remember, we talked about it before I got on the plane? I have to go to work for a little while.”
There was background noise as he heard Aoife reassure him, telling him to say goodbye.
“Ok, bye Dad. Love you.”
He felt his throat constrict slightly, like it always did when he was away from home for a chunk of time. Being away from them never got any easier.
“Love you too, kiddo.”
There was a rusting sound as Finn handed back the phone and then Aoife’s voice returned, the background noise of the football dwindling. She must be walking further away from the action.
“Did you really have to be in London all this week? You don’t start filming til Wednesday.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, guilt burning in his guts. Even though the decision to stay in London that week had been made long before Y/N walked back into his life.
“I had stuff to do here - you know I’d have come home if I could’ve but it was all so awkwardly spaced.”
She snorted. “Right. Because coming home to parent is so much more appealing than going to the pub every night with Enda.”
He bit his tongue, trying not to let his temper flare at the obvious snark in her tone. In the past that might have been in jest, the warmth of her laugh following her words. But not today, her voice cold and flat. Dismissive.
“If I had a choice between being home with the kids and here on my own, you know I’d choose the kids every time. I can’t help how things fell this week.”
“Sure, because as the movie star you have absolutely no say over the schedule.”
“Eef, we talked about this before I left,” he answered tiredly, the dull throb of a headache coming to life behind his eyes. He was getting far too old to be up cavorting half the night.
She sighed sharply and he could practically see her, as though she was stood in the room beside him. Straight blonde hair in a neat little ponytail, hand on her hip, eyes closed.
“Look, I have to go. It’ll be half time in a minute.”
“Fine. I’ll ring later to say hello to Eoin.”
“Sure, whatever. He’s got a party this afternoon so will need to be lunchtime or after six. If you can squeeze that into your busy schedule.”
He opened his mouth to object at how unreasonable she was being, and then remembered Y/N was in the next room and knowingly or not, she had every right to be cross with him. “Right, ok,” he said instead.
“Bye then.”
“Bye.”
He hung up, throwing the phone with some aggression into the sofa cushions, slumping forward to grip the back of it, head dipped low between his arms.
*****
She could hear the rumble of his voice through the wall - he sounded tense, even though she couldn’t discern the words. He talked about his kids all the time during their meals, but never really about his wife, which in itself was enough to tell her that things probably weren’t entirely rosy at home.
Which, on reflection, was probably an understatement considering what happened last night.
Shifting under the duvet, guilt bubbled in her stomach; she was afraid to get up in case she made any noise that gave him away. Not that she was in a rush to move - god she was knackered, her limbs heavy, a dull, though not unpleasant, ache between her legs from the number of times he had stretched her wide around him. Muscles that hadn’t used much since she and Jack split up complaining when she stretched.
The memory of him, head buried between her legs, coaxing her over the edge with his tongue made her involuntarily squeeze her thighs together. She couldn’t even remember how many times he had made her cum over the course of the night. It was like he had set himself a personal challenge.
Dragging her mind from the gutter she realised things had fallen silent in the next room and she sat up tentatively, pulling her fingers through her hair. As the silence stretched on she carefully got up, padding quietly around the room to reclaim his shirt as a cover-up, teaming it with the thick pair of socks she had borrowed to sit outside.
Cracking the door gently, she winced as it creaked slightly on opening. But, she rationalised, his wife would have to have supersonic hearing to have heard it. She paused, listening for signs that he might still be on the phone when he pulled open the living room door, making them both jump.
“Coast is clear,” he smiled but it looked tight, not quite reaching his eyes. Disappointment tightened in her chest - here it came, the guilt, the reality, the regret.
She should have left when she had the chance.
“I hadn’t heard your voice for a while so I guessed it might be.” His forehead creased slightly and she panicked, realising how that must sound. “I mean, I couldn’t hear anything, just the noise...I wasn’t listening.”
She fiddled absently with the ends of her hair, eyes wide and worried and he couldn’t help himself, crossing the short distance to slip his arms around her waist.
“I don’t think I’ve actually said good morning to you yet,” he said softly as she hesitantly let her fingers roam his broad shoulders, hidden by a white tshirt. He dipped his head, brushing his lips against hers. “Morning, beautiful.”
She felt warmth flood her face. “Hardly beautiful. I look like some kind of harlot.” I am some kind of harlot, she added to herself.
“Hmmmmmm…” he grinned, pressing a firmer kiss to her lips. “Well now that you mention it...”
“Cheeky bastard,” she giggled, wriggling away before he could deepen the kiss, terrified of her morning breath. “It ok if I freshen up?”
“Help yourself, coffee’s brewing.”
*****
She reappeared a short while later, fresh faced, her hair wrangled into a messy bun on top of her head, dark-rimmed glasses on her nose since her contacts had dried out overnight. And back in her green dress.
“You going?” he asked with a frown, not expecting to see her properly dressed again already. The spectre of Aoife had melted away the moment she was in his arms again and he’d been rather looking forward to the possibility of taking his shirt off her again.
“I probably should,” she said, taking a sip of the coffee he handed her. “I know what you said last night… this morning,” she corrected herself, “but—”
“But what? You think ‘cause I talked to my kids that it changes things? I meant what I said.”
“Not just your kids, Cill. Your wife.”
“I told you last night. My marriage is my problem, not yours.”
“If I’m sleeping with you, then it’s my problem too,” she argued, setting down the mug with a sigh as he boxed her in against the counter.
“Can we please not do this?” he mumbled, hands warm against her hips, breath on her lips.
“You can’t just try and fuck me every time we try and have a serious conversation about this y’know,” she chuckled, a sharp breath following her words as he began to press light kisses to her neck.
“Oh yeah?” he grinned, lifting her to sit on the edge of the counter, pushing her skirt up her legs as she wrapped them around his waist.
She cupped his face, halting him as he leaned in to kiss her. “You’re really sure you want to keep doing this?”
“Absolutely. I’m not ready to let you go,” he said firmly, finally capturing her mouth with his, tongue sneaking past her lips, tasting the minty tang of toothpaste mingled with fresh coffee.
He never wanted this to end. And that was going to be a fucking problem.
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PART 24
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Everyone still doing ok? More of the same coming just as soon as I can get it wrapped up! Remember comments (and esp reblogs!) are love 🤍 Go on, tell me what you thought, make my day, I dare you 😉 xx
You can find loads more content with these two idiots in love in the masterlist 👇🏼
Masterlists: CILLIAN | LOCKDOWN | MAIN
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