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queenshelby · 1 day

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An Illicit Affair

Part 40: 11 March 2024

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

"Get off of my daughter!" he growled, and Cillian immediately pulled away, quickly getting off of the bed.

Your heart was racing as you looked at your father, standing in the doorway with a murderous expression on his face.

"Dad, it's not what it looks like!" you protested, scrambling to cover yourself up with the bedsheets.

But your father wasn't listening, he was too angry and too hurt to hear anything you had to say.

"Get out," he told Cillian, his voice low and dangerous. "I told you to keep your hands off her and -," your father began to say as Cillian backed away from you, which is when you interrupted him.

"Enough!" you told your father, your voice firmly but with a hint of panic in it. "I am an adult," you continued, trying to make him see reason, but it was like speaking to a brick wall. You could see the hurt in his eyes and the confusion on Cillian's face, which had transformed from one of pure bliss to one of fear.

"I don't care," your father said, his voice shaking with anger. "You are my daughter, and you are living under my roof, so I expect you to adhere to my rules. This man is way too old for you and if it wasn't for your mother nagging me, I wouldn't have permitted him to stay here in the first place," your father continued to say angrily, completely disregarding your feelings on the matter.

"Y/N, I should probably leave. I don't to cause more drama than is necessary," Cillian interjected softly, a pained expression on his face. "I'll come back in the morning to collect my things, if that is alright with you?" he asked softly, but you shook your head.

"No, I want you to stay," you said with great determination before making a somewhat unwanted revelation to your father. "It's not that we haven't been intimate before, because quite frankly dad, this is what people do when they are in a relationship. They have sex," you said, your voice confident and strong despite the anxiety coursing through your veins. "And Cillian and I are in a relationship," you added, reaching out for Cillian's hand which he readily took, giving it a gentle squeeze just as your mother came in after having heard the shouting from her bedroom.

"What's going on?" your mother asked your father, her eyes darting between the three of you. You could see the concern etched into her features and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for causing her worry.

"I caught them in bed together," your father spat out, his voice still shaking with anger.

"And?" your mother asked with tired eyes, interrupting your father's rant before he could continue. She looked at him tiredly, not believing his melodramatic behavior.

"Well, I am not having this in my house," your father said firmly, crossing his arms over his chest before giving Cillian a rather stern look, causing him to roll his eyes.

"Maybe you should come back to London with me, Y/N. Because I can't stay here and walk on eggshells around your father," Cillian told you, exasperation creeping into his voice as he ran a hand through his hair and you knew that he was right. What you were demanding from him and wanted from him was something your father did approve of it, making it difficult for Cillian to stay in your family home.

"So you want to take my daughter away from me now? Is that it?" your father asked incredulously, looking between the two of you with a mixture of confusion and anger.

"I am not taking her away from you," Cillian said firmly, trying to keep his tone even despite the hurt he was feeling. "But I can't stay here and be constantly reminded of how much you disapprove of us together. It's not fair to either of us and Y/N doesn't need the added stress, given the current circumstances," he explained, his voice softening just slightly as he looked down at you with concern.

"Cillian, I can't just come to London with you. I need someone with me all the time and I cannot expect that from you. I am a liability right now, and -," you told Cillian, your voice trembling as you tried to suppress the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"You are not a liability," Cillian interrupted you firmly, his voice so full of confidence and determination that, for a moment, you believe him. "And I won't have to travel for the next six weeks, so I can look after you. Despite, London has the best specialists in the country, and you should have the best care possible," Cillian continued with a determined look on his face.

He had offered you to live with him many weeks ago while you were still in hospital but, at the time, you couldn't have accepted the offer. Not in light of the revelations concerning Danielle at the time and the media shit storm that had hit Cillian as a result.

But now, things were different. Or, so it seemed.

"Okay , I'll come with you," you finally agreed, surprising even yourself with the decision you had just made.

"No you are not. I won't allow it," your father interjected, his voice firm and unyielding.

"You don't have to allow it. She is an adult and she can make her own decisions," Cillian told your father firmly, his voice carrying an undertone of anger.

Your father glared at him for a moment before turning his gaze to you, his expression one of disappointment and worry. "Fine, if that is what you really want to do. But I still don't approve of this whole situation," he said, gesturing between the two of you and your mother told him once again to calm down.

"I think it will be good for Y/N ," she said, her voice gentle and soothing. "She needs a change of scenery and a new environment to fully recover. And Cillian is right. The specialists in London are much better. She will be in good hands," your mother said and your father grumbled under his breath but refrained from saying anything further on the matter, although you knew that this decision would weigh heavily on him for quite some time.

As the tension in the room began to dissipate, Cillian turned to you with a gentle smile.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked, his voice softer now as he reached out to take your hand in his.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. You wanted this. You wanted Cillian and, despite the challenges that lay ahead, you knew that this was what was best for both of you.

"Okay," Cillian said, squeezing your hand gently. "Then maybe we should pack your bags so that we can get out of your parents' hair," Cillian continued, trying to lighten the heavy mood that had settled in the room.

You smiled weakly at him and nodded, appreciative of his efforts to make things less tense between everyone.

"You can stay until the morning," your father eventually relented, still not liking this turn of events.

"Thanks," Cillian replied, his tone softening as he looked upon your father warmly and appreciatively.

"In the guestroom!" your father then clarified firmly, causing Cillian to nod and it was shortly after that that Cillian left you alone, in your room, so that you could get some rest.

***

The following day, your mother had arranged for you to see your specialists in the morning before transferring to the appropriate medical facilities in London.

Your physiotherapist in particular wanted to have a final appointment with you before preparing the referral papers and you were glad that Cillian was by your site for this appointment.

As usual, the session was painful and strenuous as you forced yourself to move and, for short time, you even managed to stand up while holding on to Cillian.

Your leg and spine were still weak and in need of support but the determination you felt within was stronger than the muscle weakness.

The physiotherapist was pushing you hard and you tried to hide away your tears as you pushed through the pain, biting your lip in frustration but Cillian was ever present, whispering encouraging words that made you hold on a bit longer.

"You're doing great, you can do it," he murmured softly, his voice full of warmth and encouragement as he stood behind you, his hands gently gripping your hips to give you the support you needed whenever the therapist allowed him to step in and help.

For an hour straight, you focused on the exercises, pushing yourself harder and harder to move your legs, your hips, your entire body until, finally, your session came to an end.

"Can I have a moment alone with Y/N?" your physiotherapist then asked Cillian after the session was done.

He looked at you and your heart fluttered a bit as he nodded, taking a seat in the waiting area, leaving you alone with your physiotherapist.

"Is everything alright?" you asked, looking up at him curiously as he took a seat beside your bed.

He smiled warmly down at you before responding. "Yes, everything is fine. But you need to ensure that, in London, you keep up with your sessions. I will recommend that you see the physio department at least three times a week so that, within the next four to five months, we can get you back on to your feet," he continued on, his voice steady and calm.

You bit your lower lip nervously, thinking about your upcoming trip to Los Angeles with Cillian for Awards Season.

"If I was to go daily, then do you think I could speed up my recovery?" you asked him with a glimmer of hope in your eyes, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Well, I mean it's possible. But the frequency of your sessions doesn't have much impact on how quickly you recover. What matters most is the quality of your rehab and how committed you are to seeing it through," he explained gently, his voice soft and soothing. "Recovery takes time and patience. And I know that it may not seem like it now, but trust me when I say that you're making progress," he reassured you with a warm smile.

"I need to be out of this fucking wheelchair by 11 March, doctor," you told him firmly, a determined expression settling on your face.

"That might be a bit of a stretch Y/N," the doctor replied with a frown, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at you with concern. "Why the 11th of March?" he asked, his voice steady and calm as he looked upon you with curiosity.

"Because that's the day of the Academy Awards and, for once, I need to be the supportive partner, not the other way around," you replied, your voice softer now as you looked up at him with a hopeful expression.

The physiotherapist sighed softly before responding. "Well, if we push yourself even harder than usual, I think it's possible for you to make some decent progress by then. But I have to stress that this is not going to be easy. You will have to put in a lot of hard work and dedication," he continued on, looking at you with determination. "And you most certainly won't be wearing his heels that day, so just bear that in mind when you go dress shopping," the physiotherapist said with a light chuckle.

"And I am sure my boyfriend will appreciate that, seeing that he's only 5'8 ," you replied, your voice laced with humor as you looked at your physiotherapist and grinned.

He laughed in response before excusing himself to go and arrange the necessary paperwork for your transfer while one of the nurses helped you back into the wheelchair.

Cillian greeted you with a gentle smile as you returned to the waiting area where he was sitting, his eyes warm and affectionate as they met yours. "Everything went alright then?" he asked, his voice soft as he reached over to take your hand in his.

You nodded, appreciating the touch of his hand against yours. "Yeah, everything is sorted out," you murmured softly, before continuing on. "He recommended that I keep up with my sessions while in London to make sure that I continue to recover properly, and I actually hope that I can attend them daily."

Cillian nodded in understanding. "Daily? Are you sure that isn't a bit much?" he asked, a slight crease forming between his eyebrows as he considered your request.

You shook your head, your eyes pleading with him to understand. "No, I need to do this. I need to push myself harder than ever before," you told him firmly without telling him about the reasons behind your urgency. You wanted to do this for him, be there for him when his big day arrived. He would now be there for you through the hardest time of your life, supporting you and loving you through it all and you simply wanted to return the favor.

"Okay," Cillian replied with a nod, understanding the seriousness in your voice. "We'll figure something out," he reassured you, a warm smile on his lips as his hand gently squeezed yours.

And with that, your decision was made. You would recovery in London and live with Cillian during this time.

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churipu · 3 months

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YOU SLEEPING ON A COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

featuring. gojo satoru, geto suguru, toji fushiguro x reader

note. i hv so many ideas right now apart from what i'm actually supposed to be focusing on, so...pls excuse me.

GOJO SATORU. arguments with gojo are a pain in the ass, he's petty and everything will be a mess. he's so stubborn that it actually baffles you sometimes — and he calls you rock head?

being a sorcerer is never an easy job. gojo wakes up every day, not knowing whether he'd die in a mission or get to live another day. so when you brought up your concerns about it to him, the male didn't take it lightly. things have been tight for him, and you're walking on eggshells for the past few days.

the slightest thing angered him, like how his sleeve got stuck on the door handle, or the way he curses out loudly when he stubs his toe on the coffee table. it puts him in a shitty mood, so when that happens, and you try to talk to him about his job.

gojo gets very pissy about it.

frankly, you understood where his anger comes from. and it was part of your fault to bother him the moment he came back from work exhausted, it was bound to happen so you weren't really blaming him at all from the projecting of his anger to you the night before — he didn't say hurtful things, gojo knew better than that. all he did was tell you to leave him alone and get out of his sight for the night.

and you did. sleeping alone on the couch, all sprawled out, an arm dangling on the edge; while a string of drool dribbled down the corner of your lips.

you seemed to not mind having to sleep on the couch (under your own want). but your boyfriend did, the moment he knew your bed time strikes — he came out of the room and eyed your sleeping form. guilt washing over him when all you did was care about his being and how dangerous the jujutsu world is.

gojo approaches you and gently carried you in his arms, an arm right under your bottom and his other arm around your waist. hoisting you up like a baby as your cheek leaned onto his shoulder, letting the drool blotch his shirt. he doesn't care at all.

the male tucks you in the bed, pulling the covers over you before slipping next to you, chest pressed to your back and an arm resting on your hip. gojo will never let you sleep a whole night on the couch, he will bring you to sleep with him and apologize the very next day for being such an ass.

he also, tried to make it up to you by cooking a classic english breakfast. which ended up in chaos — and you both decided to order take out instead.

GETO SUGURU. geto is usually calm and collected; he doesn't really get angry at anything. even if he does, he mostly keeps it to himself unless it really bothers him. but since humans have certain capacities to their own emotion — geto is not spared from being angry, no matter how calm he is.

after the death of amanai, you could feel him change. your geto. it was traumatizing for him, and you understood. always being there for him, never leaving him alone. the dark circles under his eyes were apparent, and it looked like he hasn't had a good night sleep for what seemed like . . . weeks, or months, if that's even possible.

geto appreciated your company, really. but sometimes, he also wanted to be left alone to dwell on his feelings. he didn't want to end up saying hurtful things to you because he was so angry at himself. but he did, and god was it horrible.

he was already feeling like shit before the argument— which if you see, wasn't really an argument at all. it was one-sided, geto was telling you off and you didn't say anything back. because you knew he didn't mean it. he almost desperately begged for you to leave him alone because your presence was "annoying" him and he couldn't stand it.

although geto said it in a heap of moment. he didn't mean it, and before he could say anything else, you tell him that you were going to be sleeping on the couch, so if he needed anything he was free to come to you.

geto didn't stop you. he was busy hating on himself for telling you that — and believe me when i say that he, right there, almost cried out of frustration.

he tossed and turned on his bed. where you were usually on too, beside him, holding his hand whilst he sleep. your hushed voice lulling him into a peaceful slumber; but you weren't there today, all because he told you to leave him alone. geto sat up, his eyelids heavy, but no matter how long he shut is, they always open back up.

with slow and heavy steps, he approaches you on the couch. and geto had always knew that you were a light sleeper, so his footsteps awoken you. seeing your eyes flutter open, geto slid on the couch, laying himself on top of you — head on your chest, arms clutching onto your shirt like he's desperate for your presence, and his legs intertwining with yours.

getos' hushed apologies were heard as he leaned into your warmth, and you told him that you were never angry. brushing his hair, massaging his scalp using your fingertips before lulling him to sleep, and geto did. almost immediately. and so did you.

he could never sleep without you. whether it being on the bed, the couch, or anywhere else — as long has you were with him, he will find the ability to drift off.

TOJI FUSHIGURO. is an ass. let's face it — he wouldn't give a fuck if you decided to sleep on the couch after an argument, at least for the first couple of hours. toji is a blunt man, and he's a sole believer that nobody could bear sleeping on the couch when there's a bed in the house.

but you were there to prove him wrong.

after an argument going south, he finds you grabbing your pillow and then seeking shelter on the couch. and he clicked his tongue in annoyance, knowing you'd come crawling back on the mattress after a few hours — because who'd choose the couch over the bed?

you. apparently.

he slept without a single care, thinking of words to say when you finally decided to come back on the bed. but when he woke up at three am, his arm searching to find your body, but realizing all he was catching was air — he finally realized that you weren't coming back onto the bed.

and it annoyed him. he was angry that you weren't there. and at three am? he was already wide awake, walking out of the room angrily. but his gaze softened when he saw you asleep, the constant flashing light from the television panning on your body; toji walks over, snatches the remote and turns the device off.

letting out a soft sigh, toji squats down, flicking your forehead. and the action was enough to make you grimace lightly in your sleep — although not enough to wake you up completely. the male chuckled and prepped an arm under the hollow under your knees, and an arm across your shoulder.

with ease he brought you into your shared room and he laid you down on the bed, covering your body with the blanket before he slips into his own portion of the bed. scooting closer to you as you instinctively nuzzled into his chest, seeking for comfort.

toji wouldn't admit that he was the one who brought you into the bed and would end up saying how you came crawling back at three am. you always find out the truth though, and toji tells you to forget about whatever he did because he won't be doing it again (he will).

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