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sabohime · 4 months

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♡ 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦

multi x fem!reader

♡ . eek my first post!! some simple headcannons for you guys! enjoy :) nothing explicit (for now 😈) but! there are references to dicksucking!

♡ . includes: law, sabo, sanji

LAW

Law is constantly on edge. It hurts seeing your captain so stressed all the time.

So, being the dutiful crewmate you are, you decide to…provide him with a little ‘relaxant’. It’s not your fault he’ll have to work for it…

“Y/n-ya, what are you-“ “It’s hot, Captain!”

Law blushes at that. You can barely see it through the Tang’s dim lighting and his tanned skin, but from the way his eyes widen and his breath hitches, you can tell your plan is working.

Why is he harping about your wardrobe? Well, your typical Heart Pirates boiler suit had been traded in for a tight tank and skimpy shorts. How old were these? With the way your thighs were pinched by the elastic of your shorts, and the way your breasts practically fell out of your top, Law was certain you had dug deep in your closet to fish these clothes out.

“Y/n-ya. Seriously,” his tattooed hand rests on your shoulder now, dangerously close to the thin strap of your tank top. “We have uniforms for a reason.”

“Are you really gonna make me change, Captain?” you pout. You watch his brow furrow, and you know you’ve got him now.

“I think I’ll have fun ripping this off of you, Y/n-ya,” he grunts, hot breath now in your ear. His hands wander down to your shorts, palming your ass and taking notice of your lack of panties. “Even more dress code violations? I might just have to punish you tonight, Y/n-ya.”

You gulp. Law says Room and suddenly you’re in his bedroom.

“Regretting your decision, Y/n-ya?”

SABO

Once again, Dragon’s given him far too much paperwork.

As his secretary, it’s your job to provide him with some repose from his workload.

So…What better to let him take another load out on you? Maybe you should snag a pillow from your desk chair next time…

“Chief, I brought you the tea you asked for. A splash of milk and extra sugar,” you say, repeating his order sweetly and perfectly from years of practice. When you cross the threshold to his office, you find your chief of staff with his vest off, cravat undone and on the table, and his shirt partly unbuttoned.

The sight of his scarred, muscular chest makes you gulp. It’s okay Y/n, you can do this, you assure yourself.

“Thank you, Y/n-chan. You’re so kind, helping me out,” Sabo says, his cheeks rosy and smile innocent. You think him the perfect caricature of a schoolboy.

“It’s nothing, chief. I am your secretary after all. It’s my job,” you grin, placing the tea on his desk in front of him. You make sure to lean over and give him an eyeful of cleavage, just in case he might be interested.

“Is it your job to tease me as well?”

You freeze. You didn’t actually think he’d take the bait. Shit.

“Don’t be shy now, Y/n-chan. I’ve already gotten a nice view of your tits. And your skirt could be pulled down a tad, I suppose. You’re hardly professional these days,” you listen, face hot, sweat beginning to run down your back. At least he wasn’t scolding you— that was evident in the fact he said ‘tits’, and the generally teasing lilt in his usually silky smooth voice. It’s gotten deeper because he’s so tired, and it’s starting to make you clench your thighs.

“I-uh, I’m sorry, chief. I- I figured…” you scramble, trying to think of some excuse to remedy this situation. “I figured you might want a, uh, distraction. Right! A distraction from work!”

“Oh really?” the blond grins, pushing his chair away from his desk and moving his hands to unbutton his trousers. “Dragon-san has been giving me so much paperwork. It’s the least you could do, right Y/n-chan?”

You watch in awe as he takes himself out of his boxers.

“Now, Y/n-chan…How much of a distraction can you be?”

SANJI

Sanji gets hard just from smelling women’s perfume. So seducing him is easier than…really anything.

So, one night you can’t sleep. And the chef in the kitchen preparing recipes seems like a wonderful target for your affections.

“Sanji-kun, what’re you making?”

Sanji jumps from his place stirring on the counter, surprised at the sound of your beautiful voice.

“Oh my! Has an angel descended down on me to try my humble cooking?” the man swirls around you with hearts in his eyes, eventually bending down on one knee to kiss your knuckles. “It’s nothing special, my dear Y/n-swan. Simply practicing recipes for fruit tarts.”

You cup his cheek. A trickle of blood comes down his nose, but he pulls away from your touch to quickly wipe it away.

“Sounds yummy, Sanji. Could I try one?”

“Of course, mellorine!” Sanji keens. You smile at how cute he is. The blond grabs a fruit tart, which happens to be your favorite fruit, and brings it over to you.

He sits it on a plate in front of you, waiting like a lapdog as he anticipates praise for his cooking. However you don’t move to pick up the tart.

“Y/n…swan?”

“Feed it to me, Sanji-kun?” you say seductively, leaning over the kitchen island so your breasts pop over your crossed arms. Immediately Sanji is staring, but you don’t scold him this time. This was your goal.

“Of- of course, anything for my Y/n-swan,” Sanji stutters. He brings the small tart to your lips, and as you reach the last bite, you grab his wrist.

You decide to be extra bold, and lick a stripe up his finger. Your mouth detaches with a pop, and Sanji looks like he might pass out.

“That was good, Sanji-kun. Do you have any other special treats for me?”

#♡ sabohime.writes #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece headcanons #law x reader #law x female reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #sabo x reader #sabo x female reader #sabo x you #sabo the revolutionary x reader #sanji x reader #sanji x fem reader #sanji x you #sanji x y/n

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 6 months

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the lakes - m. murdock

a/n: hey guys so i've been struggling a lot with the fact that i might have hearing loss (i'm going to the doctor next week) and as always i am projecting, but i am not 100% sure everything in this fic is accurate and for that i apologize. but it's my little passion project and i hope you enjoy <3 as always, comments and reblogs are always loved and appreciated! warnings: hearing loss, hearing aids, tinnitus, reader struggling with being disabled, some parts are more vulnurable and don't have the reader being like overly confident in their disability, matt being soft, some suggestive behavior at the end, kissing, nicknames, pretty pg-13 honestly word count: 3.0k summary: your hearing aids run out of battery, and you're forced to struggle through a day of ringing ears and being deaf. matt helps, as he always does. pairing: matt murdock x hard of hearing!reader now playing: the lakes - taylor swift "take me to the lakes/where all the poets went to die/i don't belong/but my beloved, neither do you."

“Are you deaf?”

“What?”

You’re eighteen, home from college for the first time since fall break. Your family sits around for Thanksgiving, and there are so many people talking. There’s about thirteen people at this long dining room table, and they are all talking at once. You’re sitting next to your sister, but you can’t hear her well.

You know she’s speaking, and you’re sure you’re yelling, but you’re frustrated.

“I said, are you deaf? I repeated myself like, four times!”

You feel your face flush.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. You’re mumbling, and it’s loud in here.”

Your sister looks at you like you’re crazy.

“I’m right next to you, and I’m not mumbling. In fact, no one is yelling, either.”

You poke your fork at your sweet potatoes and feel hot, angry tears in your eyes as you avoid everyone’s gaze.

Your mom sits across from you, and frowns, planning to tell you to make an appointment at the student health center when you get back to campus.

She doesn’t even have to. You’ve booked one by the time she says it to you.

At the student health center, they administer a hearing test, and then refer you to a specialist for further testing. You call your mom, crying and she gently comforts you, before driving to the nearest bookstore and picking up a book on hearing impairments and a copy of ASL for Dummies.

At the specialist, they do another round of tests. Your doctor tells you that you do in fact have hearing issues and that you should come back in a year for more testing, to see if your hearing gets worse. For now, you get a doctor’s note that requires all your professors to take your hearing impairment into consideration. The process for getting that applied at your university is painful, and only gets worse through your years there.

Before you get to law school, your doctor tests you again, and tells you how your hearing has been decreasing in quality in the past few years. He says that you’ll need hearing aids to regulate it. You cry because you cannot afford that.

You get captioning accommodations throughout law school, as well as a note taker for certain classes that are entirely lecture based. You still try to take your own notes, but it frustrates you that suddenly you need all this help. Your own notes are incomprehensible and often miss key parts of the lecture as you sit for a few minutes trying to decipher what your professor had said a few minutes prior.

You go into corporate law after law school, choosing to stay out of court initially because you find yourself frustrated that you wouldn’t be able to process all of what’s going on due to the many voices.

You stay at this company long enough to get your hearing aids, long enough to pay your loans, and long enough to save up a good fund for your hearing aid needs.

You quit your job and get hired at Nelson, Murdock & Page as an interim while you decide what you want to do.

With your hearing aids, life isn’t so frustrating anymore. You find yourself enjoying casual chatter and not worrying about processing what your friends are saying. At family dinners, you take your hearing aids out when you’re mad at your family, to which your stepdad, another hearing aid user, always laughs.

And, despite the pay not being stellar at your job, you love it. You love working with people who need help, love fighting injustice, and you love your coworkers.

...

If only Matt Murdock would reciprocate your feelings towards him.

You’ve been dancing this dance for months. You come into work with coffee and stutter when you get to his doorway.

You wonder if he’ll ever know how desperately you want him.

You go about your days quietly, going to the bar with them at the end of a long week. You love your friends and find yourself hoping they know how much you love them.

Karen and Foggy, as well as Foggy’s fiancé, know about your hearing aids since they sit sort of clunkily on your ears.

You don’t tell Matt, though, not at first.

You know how bad it is, to not even tell your blind crush that you have hearing aids. But you’re embarrassed. It makes you sound like an old person even though you’re in your twenties.

But when Matt crawls into your window late at night, bleeding, you don’t even flinch as he crashes onto your floor behind you. You’re reading, your hearing aids out, and he’s unsure why you can’t hear him. Your heartbeat had no reaction, it’s like you don’t even realize he’s there.

He taps you on your shoulder and you turn quickly, and gasp, before starting to sign at him. Even in his disoriented state, he knows you’re doing something with your hands and moving your mouth. At first, he thinks that he might have stuff clogging his ears, but then he realizes you’re signing, probably because you think Daredevil isn’t blind.

He takes off his helmet.

“Matt?” You say, and it comes out a little louder than it should, because you can’t hear yourself to gage how loud you’re being.

He says something, and your gaze focuses on his mouth, where you can barely make out what he’s saying.

“I can’t hear you.” You say, softer now. You reach over to your bedside table and put your hearing aids on. By the time you look back, Matt has passed out on the ground. Oh fuck.

You get your first aid kit and begin to work on his wounds. When you’re done, you pull him onto your couch, now stained with his blood, and watch as he sleeps. Blood covers your hands, and you listen to him breathing.

When he wakes up that morning, you’re asleep on the couch, and when you feel him start to stir. You grab your hearing aids, and turn them on, before watching him wake.

He says your name softly, and you take his hand in yours.

“Hey.. You.. You’re Daredevil...”

“You’re deaf.”

“Hard of hearing. Not fully deaf, just… My right ear is a lot better than my left, but without my hearing aids I’m close to deaf, yeah…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were Daredevil?”

“I was scared. Scared that… That you would view me differently, scared that you wouldn’t like me as much.”

“I was scared too..”

“When did you start losing your hearing?”

“In college. I realized it when I went home for Thanksgiving, and then it got worse from there..” You tell him. A hand reaches out to your face, and you lean into it, letting your cheek rest in his palm. His fingers trail up towards your ear and gently run his fingers over your hearing aid.

“Thanks for stitching me up.” He says softly.

“No problem.”

“The hearing aid does explain the buzzing I always hear when you’re around.”

“You can hear my hearing aids?”

“Apparently. I can hear a lot of things. I have heightened senses. You use pomegranate shampoo and had red velvet cake for dessert tonight. Your heart is racing.”

Your face flushes.

“I can turn them off if it’s bothering you.”

“How would you hear me, then?” He has a point.

“I just don’t want them to bother you.”

“Don’t offer to hide your disability just to make other people more comfortable.”

You kiss him when he says this, in a careful way. You’re gentle, making sure not to hurt him as you do. He lays there and lets you kiss him, his hands on your face. You realize you had no reason to be scared that Matt might reject you for your disability, because he is the only person in your everyday life who really gets how it is to have a disability that affects all aspects of your life.

You trace the healed scars on his skin as you kiss him gently, careful not to hurt him. You promise that you’ll kiss him more passionately when he isn’t freshly stitched up.

• • •

A few weeks passed after that night. You and Matt start seeing each other more and more as you fall deeper in love. You find it silly that you wasted so many days, afraid of talking to each other and maybe disappointing each other over the fact that you both lack a vital sense.

But Matt never views it that way. You wear hearing aids and it’s perfectly fine because most of the time, you aren’t struggling to hear him and cannot communicate with him, and he can’t see when you can’t hear him.

Instead, Matt loves that he can hear your hearing aids buzzing softly because it always alerts him that you’re there. He can hear your heartbeat and smell you, too, but it’s not quite the same as this soft little buzzing that reminds him often of a bee.

Except for this one day.

You slept over at Matt’s on a Thursday and really, you should have known better. You knew your hearing aids were going to need a battery change soon, but you’ve been so busy with work and with Matt, and worrying about him at night, that you’re tired. So tired that you forget to pick up batteries before your hearing aids die.

You sneak out of Matt’s apartment early, sending him a text that you needed to go get changed before work. Really, you want to avoid the fact that you wouldn’t be able to hear him. But he didn’t respond to your message. You decide that you don’t care at this moment and head out to work, debating the right way to tell your coworkers about your predicament.

When you get to work, Foggy is immediately talking to you, and you are tense.

“Foggy—” He’s not stopping. It sounds like he’s mumbling, and there’s this ringing in your ears. “Foggy, I can’t hear you.” He finally looks to you, and says something, you make it out to be a phrase of confusion. “My hearing aids died.” You tell him. You’re frustrated, and Matt isn’t in the office yet.

You deem this as a blessing and a curse. Foggy goes to tell Karen what’s going on and as you’re settling down for the day, you get a text. You hope it’s from Matt, but when you see Karen’s name, you falter slightly.

‘Hey! Foggy told me what was going on. We’ll have your calls redirected to one of us and you can spend the day doing housekeeping and paperwork.’

‘Thanks’, You respond, “Sorry about all this. I’m usually on top of my battery life.”

“Don’t worry about it. These things happen.”

“Still, thanks. Did you hear from Matt at all?”

“No, he probably just slept in late. He should be in soon.”

You try to ignore your anxieties over his absence even though you know that when he does come into the office, you’ll have to struggle to communicate with him all day.

So, for the first hour or so of your day, you try to get some work done but there’s a light ringing in your ears that’s getting worse and worse as you attempt to try and focus on other things. Everything sounds so muffled. You’re so focused that your teeth grind against each other, your muscles tense, as you attempt to try and block out the ringing in your ears.

You have a feeling that by the time you leave today, those hot frustrated tears will be threatening to pour once more.

You don’t hear Matt as he steps into your office and stands by your left side, where you’re almost completely deaf. He stands there for about ten minutes, trying to get your attention before he realizes the light buzzing of your hearing aids are not there.

You must not have them in.

So his hands find your shoulders gently, and instead of tensing, you actually relax under his touch, because you realize that it has to be Matt. A slight turning of your head confirms it and you lean into his touch.

Neither of you say much for a while, deciding to let your frustration slowly dissipate as you lean into his warm hands. They stay on your shoulders and upper arms, rubbing gentle patterns into your skin.

After a good ten minutes of this, his body shifts to your right side and he leans down, before speaking at full volume, maybe even a little louder, just to make sure you can hear him. It still sounds like he’s mumbling, but you can hear him.

“Forgot your hearing aids?”

“Batteries died.” You tell him. “You never answered me.”

“My phone died. I forgot my charger, too.. Are you gonna be okay to work all day?”

“Mhm..” You smile softly, “You’re gonna have to help answer calls, though.”

He kisses your cheek, and you lean into the warmth.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He says, a soft smile on his face.

The day goes by pretty much as you expect it. You spend it doing paperwork and dodging phone calls, your tinnitus gets worse as the day goes on. By the time the day is finally winding down, Karen sends you one final text.

“Matt’s staying a little late to catch up on some work. Want me to walk you home?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

You realize that because she and Foggy are heading home, you’ll be able to sit with Matt, maybe get a little bit of peace. You’re thankful, too, because you’re about to lose your mind over all of this. The ringing is just getting to be too much.

You wait a few minutes after Foggy and Karen head home before you go into Matt’s office. He smiles at you and gestures for you to come in, and you do. You lean against his desk, as he speaks loud enough now that you can hear him.

“I’ll just be a few more minutes, Bee.” Even the soft-spoken nickname doesn't get you out of your funk, too busy wanting to get on your hands and knees and beg God for your hearing back.

That doesn’t usually happen, but every once in a while you ask him for a normal life.

God sends you a blind man as your soulmate, because he must think that the whole thing is quite funny.

“Okay…”

You feel hot tears pooling in your eyes as you bite your tongue and dig your fingernails into your skin. You almost draw blood.

“What’s wrong?” He can tell that something is wrong. He can always tell, and you’re foolish to think anything less of him, and even more foolish to forget his super senses. A part of you bites back a bitter feeling, since you wish you could’ve had super smell, super sight, super taste, anything in exchange for your hearing. You were not given an exchange, only forced to give, with nothing in there for you.

You forget that your boyfriend has super senses and can taste and smell your salty tears and blood in the air. Damn him.

“Loud… Ringing in my ears, my tinnitus is always really bad when I don’t use my hearing aids for a while..” You say softly. “It’s just.. it really hurts...” You confess, tears slipping down your face.

“Sweetheart..” He takes off his glasses and rests them on the desk in front of him. “C’mere..” You can’t hear that last part, but the way he opens his arms gives you the hint.

You sit on his lap, burying your face in the crook of his neck with a shaky sigh. You feel the thumps of his heartbeat and hold onto it, the ringing in your ears slightly muffled by his skin. It doesn’t fix the problem, but it helps.

His hands linger on your body, gentle caresses of your knee or thigh happening here and there. He just wants you to know he’s there, in the same way he desires when everything becomes too much for him.

“”m sorry..” you say gently, and he just hushes you softly, kissing your head. He traces patterns into your skin. He traces words into it as well.

L-O-V-E.

S-W-E-E-T-H-E-A-R-T

He traces your name, his, and your last names.

You kiss him softly, realizing that you might never be 100% okay with your hearing, but Matt will help. He’ll understand. He loves you, and it’s enough to be confident in your future again.

You spend only a few minutes more in the office before you decide to head home, his hand never leaving yours.

You make it back to his apartment and Matt plugs his phone in in case you need to text him and get his attention. You wind up stealing a pair of sweatpants, a tee shirt, and a pair of fuzzy socks. The two of you wind up tangled together on his couch.

Your ear is pressed against his chest as he gently caresses your skin, occasionally moving your hair from your face. He mumbles sweet nothings, and while you can’t hear them, you feel the rumbling vibrations in his chest, and you relish in them. You bathe in the feeling of his heartbeat thumping against his skin.

You fall asleep like this, with Matt touching you and talking in this low tone to make sure you can feel the vibrations of his voice in his chest and in his throat. It’s enough just knowing he’s there. That this thing you thought would deem you unlovable is no match for Matt Murdock, who on your wedding day will throw up the sign for ‘I love you’ in ASL.

For Matt Murdock, who, when you’re taken for loving the devil, will find you and take you into his arms and kiss you so that you know he’s real.

For Matt Murdock, who touches you in all the right ways so you can hear the sounds of your own pleasure.

For Matt Murdock, who will gently trace patterns into your skin when you need to be grounded. For Matt Murdock, who feels himself slipping further and further in love with you and finds himself searching for the soft buzz of your hearing aids when you walk into the room.

#matt murdock #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murodock hurt/comfort #matt murdock angst #matt murdock imagine #daredevil fic #daredevil x reader #daredevil fanfiction #hoh!reader #hard of hearing!reader #deaf!reader #self indulgent

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rax-writes · 21 days

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Rolan x Reader

↬ Warnings: afab!reader, she/her pronouns for reader, mentions of breastfeeding and some old coot being uppity about it, protective!Rolan

↬ This is the brain rot result of @drizztdohurtin and I discussing proective!Rolan. Hope y'all enjoy, Rolan Nation. Love y'all. ♡

Sorcerous Sundries was thronged with customers, and it seemed every one of them had a question they only wished to ask the Master of the Tower himself. Rolan did well with maintaining his pleasant demeanor, even after he finished speaking to the third person in a row who struggled with the somatic components of simple spells. Regardless of how trivial the questions, or how dense the customers, Rolan thoroughly enjoyed his job. After all, this was everything he'd dreamed of, and more.

The company he kept in the shop area of the Sundries on this particular day helped as well.

Naturally, the brief moment to himself was snatched away by a customer approaching Rolan – albeit looking considerably more agitated than the others, but not a sight he was unfamiliar with.

Ah, the joys of customer service.

“I'd like to speak with the manager of this establishment,” the middle-aged woman stated, the deep frown set upon her features making her wrinkles all the more noticeable.

“You're looking at him. How might I assist you?” Rolan asked calmly, giving her the same kind smile he gives everyone in the Sundries.

“I have been here many times over the past few decades, and never before have I had any concerns about the atmosphere or decorum. Until today. And I must say, I am downright appalled.”

Rolan's smile faded. Gods, had Cal or Lia gotten cross with a rude customer and swore at them? Or maybe something simpler – like one of the newer employees guided her in the wrong direction?

“I am grateful you have come to me about this, so that I have the opportunity to right whatever wrong has occurred. Could you tell me more about what happened?” Rolan asked sincerely.

“Yes. I simply cannot believe the indecency you would allow in a place of such esteemed business. For the sake of the gods, that – that harlot over there is lounging about, exposed.”

Rolan's brows furrowed in genuine confusion, as he swiveled his entire body around to examine the space. The only person seated, on the entire ground floor, was you. His wife. Who just so happened to be breastfeeding his son.

You smiled at him when you caught his eye, confused when he did not return it. Instead, your husband's expression soured, before he returned his attention to the woman in front of him.

“Are you referring to the woman on the settee, feeding her baby?”

“Why, yes I am. That is indecent. She should be covered up, or in a washroom. Or, better yet, she should have left and gone home to do that!”

“She is here because this is her home,” Rolan said, slowly and carefully, attempting to conceal the intense irritation he felt. The woman appeared confused, until Rolan spoke again. “Ignoring the fact that she is the Hero of Baldur's Gate, and you should show her due respect – she is my wife, and she is feeding my son. I hardly see how that is indecent.”

“Well, she – it – that isn't something she should be doing in public! You ought to tell her to go elsewhere,” the woman sputtered, crossing her arms.

“The only person I'll be telling to go elsewhere is you, madam.” The woman sputtered some more, alternating between halved arguments and requests for forgiveness, but Rolan merely held up a hand, effectively silencing her. “Please leave this establishment at once. Should you wish to return with a kinder demeanor, you are welcome here. If not, do not bother coming back. Have the day the gods see fit to bestow upon you.”

Rolan turned on his heel and walked away then, noticing the woman huffing but leaving from his peripheral vision, as he made his way over to you. He sat beside you on the settee, a beaming smile quickly replacing his scowl as you handed him the baby, having just finished feeding and burping him.

“What was all that about? That woman looked positively irate,” you inquired with a chuckle.

Rolan merely shook his head, placing a gentle kiss between the still-tiny nubs of his son's horns, then giving you a quick kiss.

“Nothing of importance, my love.”

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ikigaisvt · 9 months

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A good job kiss and red roses.

in which you are jealous of jeonghan giving out roses to his fans during his concert and he catches on quicker than you think.

pairing: jeonghan x gn!reader words count: 883 content: fluff, domestic, idol au warnings: extremely self indulgent im so sorry, a little bit of angst? reader is jealous for like 2 seconds, petnames (for reader: angel, love, sweetheart / for jeonghan: my love), skinship (hug, backhug, talk of kiss, implied kiss), reader is smaller than jeonghan note: hi everyone! i didn't thought i'd post something tonight but today's concert and jeonghan's selca on twt ruined me,;;,;,,, so i have been deluluing! shoutout to @homerunhansol for deluluing with me all day,, this came to be because she told me jeonghan is my bf and he is giving me flowers. i haven't recovered yet! i hope everyone likes it, don't be shy to send feebacks and reblog! (and yes i made a reference to jeonghan's solo song during ideal cut,,, @ jeonghan perform purple rose again pls)

Tonight is one of those night I wish I wasn’t dating an idol, you think to yourself. Of course, you love your boyfriend, Jeonghan, more than words could ever say. You don’t know why it pulls at you heart strings so much to see him give flowers to his fans – maybe it comes from the fact that he gave you flowers only thrice in your 2 years of dating. You know deep down it doesn’t have the same meaning when he gives flowers to his fans between when he gives you flowers – and yet you can’t stop the jealousy seeping in your bones and the pout forming on your lips.

As you wait for him to come home, you continue to scroll down through all the photos and videos you see of fans getting a flower from Jeonghan tonight. I am not going to be jealous; you say to yourself. Once he comes home, this stops. As you look at the clock, you realize he should have come home at least an hour ago but you don’t even have the time to worry that you hear the front door opens and the familiar sound of his steps – just from the sound, you know he is trying to get his shoes off without bending down. Typical Jeonghan.

"Jeonghan?" you call out to him.

"Angel? You waited up for me? Wait- I’m just trying to get this off." you hear him mumble to himself.

You set down your phone and get up from the couch to greet him – and give him his congratulation kiss for a good job. As you make your way to him, you remind yourself to stop being so jealous – and to stop pouting. You don’t even get to the entry that Jeonghan appears in front of you, pretty as ever – and carrying a bouquet of red roses, a little withered.

"I’m sorry I came home so late", he tells you, "I- I had to pick this up", he says as he holds out the bouquet in front of you.

"Is this for me?" you ask him, taking the bouquet in your hands. I can’t believe I doubted him even one second, you tell yourself.

"Of course, love", he says, "who else could it be for?" he says with a teasing tone.

Oh, he knows.

"Your fans, I guess", you mumble more to yourself than for him.

"What was that?" he questions as he follows you into the kitchen.

"You know it all, don’t make me say it again", you answer as you fill a vase with water for your roses. They really need it.

"Yeah, I do, sweetheart", he tells you, his voice getting quieter and not so teasing anymore, encircling your waist with his arms and his chin finding rest on your shoulder. "I can promise you that this doesn’t mean the same. To give them flowers and to give you flowers."

"I know", you say as you work on putting the roses in the vase correctly. You set it down on the counter delicately and put your hands over Jeonghan’s. "I’m not mad, I promise", you almost whisper. "I was a little jealous but now I’m okay. Thank you for the roses, my love", you tell him as your turn around in his hold, your arms resting on his shoulder. "But how did you know I would need this?"

"I realized when I was getting my makeup done for the concert", he tells you, his thumb making circles on the exposed part of your skin – between your shorts and your shirt. "I begged my manager to go buy a bouquet of red roses and drop it off at the dorm. I guess neither him or Seungkwan thought about putting it in water hence why they look so sad", he explains as his hand reaches the roses behind you, your gaze following his movement. "I went directly from the concert hall to pick it up but the traffic was insane so I got here late."

"You didn’t have to do all that, Jeonghan. Especially after that insane concert."

"I know", he says, gazing at you, "but I truly wanted to. Did you watch it?"

"Yeah, I did, you were all amazing. I was cheering for another Aju Nice round", you chuckle.

"We might have died if we kept going", he chuckles. "Thank you for watching it, angel. But I think we’re forgetting something here."

"We are?" you say with a smile, having a pretty good idea of what it is. "And what is that handsome boy?" you say, your fingers playing with his hair at the nape of his neck.

"Where’s my good job kiss?" he asks in a pout.

"You will get it on one condition", you tease him.

"Tell me anything and I’ll do it."

"Yoon Jeonghan, you are tempting me right now", you giggle. "Can I choose the color of the next bouquet of roses you’ll get me?"

"Oh angel, of course", he says, "what color would you like?"

"Purple roses", you whisper as you get on your tiptoe to kiss him. After all, he did a perfect job tonight – at both being a boyfriend and an idol.

thank you so much for reading, i hope you liked it! if you did please don't forget to reblog

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hikarry · 4 months

Text

If you stop to think about it, Aziraphale would be a much better demon than Crowley ever could. Especially book Aziraphale.

I'm not even going to mention the Deadly Sins he consistently partakes in (yes I am: Gluttony, lowkey Greed with his books and whatnot, and a very obvious Lust - I'm looking at you Bastille Aziraphale and Season 2 Aziraphale!), that's easy hanging fruit, we all know he is a bloody hedonist.

Now, Aziraphale not only made that guard in the airbase disappear to Satan knows where but he was also ready with a fucking gun to gun down an 11-year-old child. Was it to save the world? Details! Book Aziraphale had no problem with a little murder on the side!

I've already discussed here how he is a liar. For 6000 years he lied to Heaven (once to the Almighty's face, many many times to Gabriel's face) consistently. Be it the flaming sword, the mysterious appearance of Job's new children, the "Evil Smell" in the bookshop, the location of the Anti-Christ, making humans fall in love, or Gabriel's location. And, most importantly: Crowley.

He hid his relationship with the Serpent of Eden, the enemy, a demon, for all his staying on Earth until the Apocalypse when their cover was blown. And his relationship with Crowley wasn't just "a relationship". And no, I'm not referring to the fact he fell in love with a demon - that's irrelevant for this matter -, I'm talking about the Arrangement. Fraternizing with a demon is a thing, but having an Arrangement with one where you share the workload and perform temptations in his place? As an angel? Now that's a whole other story. And he kept all of that hidden for millennia. Hell! Do Hell and Heaven even know about the Arrangement at all? They know about Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship but not once is mentioned that they know Aziraphale was performing temptations and Crowley was performing blessing for each other! He IS still lying to Heaven about the Arrangement!

The way he acts with the clients is also not very angel-like now, is it? What about the shady people that go to his bookshop and mysteriously disappear never to be seen again?

Yes, he plays by the rules and his heart is good, and loves the Almighty above all (eh, kinda. Anyway), but he is also wicked! Deep down, Aziraphale is a terrible angel!

If he did Fall, he would be completely heartbroken and confused and scared about it for a few centuries, who knows, but he would soon take shape and adapt because, truthfully, he'd keep quite a few of his traits. He could keep his Deadly Sins, his murder, his lies, his stubbornness, his cunningness. He would just receive a new rule book to play from.

Would he be a perfect demon? No, I'm not saying that. Above all, he has a good heart and tries to do good as much as he can - much like Crowley himself, but he has certain demonic qualities that Crowley is severely lacking.

In summary: Aziraphale would be a better demon than Crowley. Not the best demon, because he isn't evil and I doubt he would ever be, but better than Crowley nonetheless.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #david tennant #anthony j crowley #michael sheen

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sinner-as-saint · 2 years

Text

after dark.

Morpheus x Reader (one shot)

Run-through: You always dreamt of him. The beautiful, mysterious, enchanting stranger who took you on adventures each night when you slept. He was your secret, no one in your waking life knew of him. Each night as you drifted off to sleep, you spent hours in his company. And it was always peaceful and wholesome with him, sure some nights your dreams were somewhat steamy, but it was always comforting and safe with him. But of course, he only existed in your dreams, right? It’s not like he would take offence if you were to, say, fool around with someone else in real life. Right? Well, so you thought. Until the line between dreams and reality begins to blur, making you question your sanity.

Themes: smut, fluff, possessive!morpheus

You had the biggest smile on your face as you ran to him, into his open arms.

“Morpheus!” You squealed, finally reaching him. Wrapping your arms around your favourite dream man, you pressed yourself against him.

He let out a pleasant hum as he hugged you. “You seem happier than when I last saw you.” He commented, and you caught the hint of a tease in his voice.

You pulled away from the hug to look at him. The last time… you felt your face burning when you remembered it. The last time you saw Morpheus was just last night, and you two may or may not have gotten cosy in what he referred to as his ‘throne room’.

You linked your arm with his as the two of you strolled in the meadow. It made you feel like you were in Victorian times, wearing a pretty dress and out on a stroll with a handsome man.

“You remember that job I told you about?” You asked, turning to look at him.

Morpheus smiled at you, “I remember. You spent half an hour telling me how it has been your dream job since you were just a child.”

You got extra excited because he did remember. You stopped walking and turned to face Morpheus properly.

“Well…” You took his hands in yours and smiled up at him, “I got it! They called me just this afternoon and told me that I was the perfect candidate!” You hugged him again, inhaling his familiar scent. A familiar scent you could only describe as dreamy - like rain, like a pine forest in the winter. Something cool, but also mysterious. “Oh Morpheus,” You sighed, “You have no idea how much this means to me. Can you believe it? I…”

As you spoke about how much this job means to you, Morpheus just smiled and held you in his arms. Smiled and pretended he had nothing to do with the fact that you so conveniently got the job right after telling him all about it.

Morpheus once accidentally stumbled upon you while you were in The Dreaming. And he’s been infatuated ever since. You were roaming around the meadow when he found you; wearing a pretty dress and, as cliché as it sounds, chasing the butterflies. That day, he couldn’t help but approach you and talk to you.

You two spoke for a very long time and only when it was time for you to wake up did Morpheus realise that he didn’t want to let you go just yet. So he promised you that he’d meet you again, in your dreams the very next day. You kissed him on the cheek and your dream ended. And ever since, he’s met you in your dreams almost every single night.

When you were done talking, Morpheus just leaned in and kissed you. A soft, deep kiss. Like a lover would. And it left you breathless. When you opened your eyes to look at him, you sighed again.

“Sometimes it feels like you’re real.” You said, nuzzling his jaw. “Sometimes I wish you were.”

Morpheus’ grip tightened just a little around you. You felt him tense up but it was so slight that you didn’t think twice about it. Then he said something which he often did. In that deep, dark as night and powerful voice of his he said, “I am real.”

You chuckled then, agreeing just for the sake of agreeing. Reaching out to poke his arrogant nose. “Of course you are, my Lord.” You teased him.

He exhaled loudly, a faint smile on his pretty mouth as he pulled away from your finger when it sought to poke his nose again. “Tell me,” He spoke, taking your hand in his again and urging you to walk with him, “Where do you want to go today?”

Each night was an adventure for you. Morpheus would take you wherever you wanted to go. Up on the mountains, by the rivers, in castles and kingdoms (sometimes even his own). He’d take you to cities that don’t exist and in libraries which seemed endless.

And today you said, as you smiled at him, “A beach at sunset, please.”

Morpheus gave you another one of his rare, soft smiles, “Very well, my darling.”

As soon as he said it, there you were all of a sudden - on a beach. It was all golden rays from the setting sun, golden and warm sand, and the gentle waves crashing on the shore, the water glittering. The cool breeze. The scent of the sea. It felt like peace.

You closed your eyes for a moment, the dreamy beach feeling all too real as you breathed in deeply. You tilted your head back, letting the golden rays of the sun wash over you. And just then you felt Morpheus’ arms wrap around you from behind.

You giggled as you imagined just how out of place he must look on a golden beach. Him with his dark hair, and dark clothes, his long dark coat. And that constant princely pout on his mouth. “Thank you.” You whispered, hoping he heard it over the cool breeze.

“You’re welcome,” He said, the timbre of his voice making his chest rumble. He nuzzled your cheek, rubbing the cold tip of his nose against your skin.

“I wish I could stay here forever. With you.” You said, leaning back against him.

He said way too quickly, “You could.”

You laughed again, melting against him as he held you. The two of you watching the sunset, well you did more of the sunset watching because Morpheus just looked at you instead.

A while later, when you were both sitting on the blanket that appeared out of nowhere on the beach, Morpheus asked, “You’re awfully quiet today.”

You sighed, leaning back against his chest. You were currently sitting in between his parted legs and there was nothing more comfortable than leaning against his warm, powerful body. “Just thinking.” You mumbled.

Since it was a dream, the sun wasn’t exactly setting with time. It just stayed there, half submerged in the horizon and perfectly golden. And even after what felt like a couple of hours, you still couldn’t get enough of looking at it, and the saturated clouds and sky around it.

Morpheus wrapped an arm around you, pulling back and more into him. “About what?”

You gently caressed his hand which was resting on your stomach, “About just how perfect things have been going for me ever since I met you. Are you some kind of magician?” You asked, teasing him.

He had a little smirk on those perfect lips of his as you tilted your head just enough to look at him. “No, but I do keep telling you that I am the dream lord.”

“Mhmm,” You hummed, believing him for a nanosecond. “Then you know all about everyone’s dreams?”

“And nightmares.” He added.

You chuckled, “Well, then tell me. What did I dream the most about when I was very little, like five or six years old?”

Morpheus looked like he was thinking about it, and then said, “Dragons.”

You were only surprised for half a second, then you laughed it off. You thought that Morpheus was just a product of your subconscious, so of course he knew everything that you knew - even the things you’d forgotten. “Very good, Dream Lord. And what about now that I’m all grown up?” You asked, still in a playful tone.

“Me.” Morpheus said, sounding proud and powerful. “You dream of me.” He said again, letting his hand trail down your body, petting you and caressing you through the thin fabric of the dress. “You dream of this.” He whispered, grabbing the material of the skirt and pulling it up to reveal the soft skin of your thighs. His hand dipped down in between your legs, caressing you there and toying with the soft lips in between your thighs.

You gasped and let out a quiet moan as he teased your clit, circled the tips of his two fingers around it, spreading your wetness around lazily.

“You dream of this, do you not?” He questioned, sliding his two fingers down your wet slit and teasing your hole. “Tell me, my darling. Do you not?”

You whined, squirming a little against him, “Yes, Morpheus. I do.” You whispered, and right after, he slid his fingers into you. Gently, stroking your walls as you slowly rode his fingers. His touch was always soft but fiery, even though he was always calm and collected - there was something electric about his touch.

“You’re so warm.” He kissed along your jaw as he finger-fucked you. Nibbling and biting your skin, but also kissing and tasting it. “Does that feel good?” He asked, whispering into your ear as he kissed around it while his fingers ever so gently sped up into you. “Do my fingers feel good?”

You nodded, holding back a moan as you said, “Yes… more, please,” You tried to grind your hips harder against his fingers but he wouldn’t let you, not just yet.

He chuckled darkly against your ear, making your body tingle and throb for him. “Tell me you’re mine.” He whispered. “Tell me you’re mine alone.”

You sighed in pleasure as he reached deeper inside you, his fingers curling just right inside your warm, wet hole, making your arch your back, whining for him. “I’m yours, Morpheus. All yours, and yours alone. Please, just let me come.”

His other hand reach out to toy with your clothed nipple as he quickened his pace, fucking you faster and deeper with his fingers. “Alright.” He said, “Come for me.” And you did. Whining and squirming, your walls clenching around his fingers as he thrust them in and out of you as you came all over them, drenching them with your wetness. Morpheus smirked, kissing the side of your face while you recovered. “Well done, darling. I’m afraid it is time for you to wake up now.”

You groaned, turning around to face him. “I’m gonna miss you. I always do.” You said, cupping his face and leaning in to give him a loud kiss on his pouty, pink lips.

He smiled faintly, “I will see you tomorrow. And good luck with your new job.”

You gave him one last hug before you parted.

Then you woke up in your bed, in your apartment, excited to start the day.

—

The next few days were filled with so much workload and so much excitement, and so many new friends at work that you barely slept long enough, or deeply enough to dream. You took light naps, waking up every hour or so.

And each time you did, it felt like you weren’t alone in the apartment. You blamed the paranoia on work and all that, but it got harder and harder to ignore each time. One night, as your eyes shut slowly, you could’ve sworn there was a tall, dark figure standing at the end of your bed.

It didn’t scare you though, as crazy as it sounds, it felt familiar. And although the thought crossed your mind a few times, you laughed it off because there was no way that your dream man would just materialise into your real life. He existed only in your dreams. Only there.

One Friday evening, a male colleague asked if you wanted to grab a drink before you went home. And you agreed. The guy was funny, charismatic and good looking. A round of drinks turned into three, and then you two hooked up in the pub’s washroom. You both agreed that it was just sex, you both needed the release. And you with the dreams you’d been having, even more so.

Though, a part of you kept comparing your colleague to Morpheus. But then he made you come a few times and you forgot all about it.

Morpheus isn’t real, you told yourself, enjoy this right now. Morpheus isn’t here. He’s not real. He can’t be.

After helping each other clean up, sharing smiles and laughter and wishing one another good night, you and your colleague parted ways outside the pub. And you walked home.

It was still a little busy at that time, and yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched. You walked a little faster then, turning around to check behind you every minute until you were well inside your apartment.

Quick sex at the pub and the day’s work had taken a toll on you so all you could do was fix yourself a quick dinner, get the in the shower and get in bed.

And that was when you dreamt. Although tonight was entirely different. Whenever you dreamt and met Morpheus, it was always bright and sparkly. The colours seemed extra lively. The air was always cool.

But tonight was anything but. You found yourself standing on a wooden jetty, just above a dark body of water. It was hauntingly beautiful, but a little frightening nonetheless. The sky was dark, so was the still water. Water so still that you couldn’t help but imagine all the nightmares that must hide beneath the surface.

Nightmares… was this a nightmare? Morpheus had once promised you that you would never experience a nightmare ever again in your life. But then, what was this?

You looked around and there was no one there but you. In the eerie silence, and the air seemed a little chilly. You were on this edge of the wooden structure but you still refused to walk down it because who knew where it might lead?

“A nightmare?” You whispered under your breath.

“Not quite.” Said a deep, dangerous voice.

You looked around and saw nothing at first. But then you really looked and there it was, the two glowing orbs that seemed like they were floating your way. The closer they got, the more they looked like two eyes instead.

“Morpheus?” You called out, genuinely confused. “It’s you.” You said, finally being able to see him. It looked like he stepped out of darkness itself, like he was made of it. His long dark cloak swayed gently as he walked down the jetty to get to you like he was in no rush at all.

He remained quiet as he approached.

So you asked again, “I’m having a nightmare?”

To which he replied, “No you are not. I have simply selected this place to speak with you.”

You almost chuckled, “You selected? Morpheus, this is my dream. You can’t control my d-,”

He cut you off, in that same composed and cold tone he said, “What part of me being Dream of the Endless did you not grasp?”

That shut you up for a moment. But then you said, “That’s not real. You’re just something my mind constructed. You’re not real.”

He looked amused. Even though you argued, you seemed a little confused. As though you weren’t fully confident in what you were saying. “You say I’m not real?”

“No.” You said plainly. You’d take a step back, but if you did you’d end up in the dark water. So you stayed put as Morpheus stepped closer to you.

“Are you certain?” He asked, like someone who’s waiting to prove you wrong.

“Morpheus…” You whispered as he reached down to wrap his hand around your wrist. “Please, what’s-,”

“Come,” He said, “Let’s show you just how real I am.”

One minute you were standing on the edge of that jetty, looking down at the dark water. And the next you were in your apartment. In your bed. With Morpheus standing very still next to it.

You wanted to scream, but instead you got out of bed and moved the furthest you could from him. “There's no way this is happening. I must be dreaming.” You kept pinching yourself, hard enough to leave bruises on your skin.

Morpheus smirked, “This is not a dream. I’m here,” He said, walking over to where you stood, pressing yourself against the wall. His fingers trailed up your neck, making you shiver before they slid into your hair and tugged on it, tilting your head a little. “Now, I would like for you to tell me why you let another man touch what is mine.” He stared down at you with his jaw clenched. “Answer me.”

You were basically drowning in confusion and denial, and still you would be lying if you said that his voice didn’t shove unholy thoughts in your head. But… he was here. You realised. He was tangible, not just a fragment of your unconscious mind. He was… you struggled to say the word ‘real’ but he was.

“No,” You whispered. “I… I dream about you but you can’t be real. Morpheus, you can’t be.” You said, like you could coax him into ceasing to exist in real life.

“Answer my question,” He leaned in closer till his eyes were all that you could see in the dimly lit room. “Why did you let him?” As he spoke, his lips brushed against yours, making you shiver. “It seems to me that you forgot who I am. You forgot that you belong to me.” He said, sounding calm but dangerous. “Need I remind you?”

Now wasn’t the right time to feel all tingly down there, but you couldn’t help it. It was the familiarity of him that prevented you from being scared of him. Somewhere, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. In fact, you had more of an issue with believing that he was real instead of being afraid.

“Morpheus…” You whispered, your lips brushing against his as well as you said his name. In desolation it sounded like. You weren’t ready to accept this just yet.

And he knew. He scoffed, letting go of you and stepping away. “You reek of him.” He pointed out, his eyes glossier than normal. He looked disappointed. “I will come back when you are ready for me to. And we will talk. Until then, I will be keeping an eye on you so…” He leaned in closer to whisper, “My darling, I better not see you anywhere near him again.”

You could do nothing more than just stare at him. He’s real. He’s real. He’s real. And then he was gone.

You didn’t sleep at all that night, fearing that you might dream of him.

–

And for the next few days, when you slept you didn’t even dream at all. Just calm, dreamless nights. You were restless though. Morpheus had been such a constant in your life for so long and now he was just… Gone.

Were you ready to see him again though? You shivered just at the thought of him. Not in fear though, something else entirely.

He was real. He was indeed Dream of the Endless. He was the Dream Lord, and the King of Nightmares. His castle was real. The endless library was real. The Dreaming was real.

Now what?

‘I will come back when you are ready for me to. And we will talk.’

You tried to ignore it, that feeling deep within your heart. That part of you which longed for him. His voice, his touch, you missed him. Endless or not, you two had too much history for you to just forget about him.

So one night, you decided you wanted to talk to him. Except, you didn’t know how to contact him. You tried to force yourself to sleep so maybe you’d find him in your dreams - where he apparently lurks around. But you were too nervous to fall asleep. And being unable to fall asleep had you frustrated.

You sat on the edge of your bed, your head in your hands as you cursed, “For fuck’s sake, Morpheus, how do I-,” You cut youself off as you felt him.

His electric presence in the room. He was here.

“You called?” He said, and it sounded more like a taunt.

You lifted your head up to look at him. You had one of your table lamps on so his eyes looked extra shiny. “I can’t take this anymore. And… and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Morpheus walked over to where you were. You let him. You let him reach out and touch your face as you looked up at him with tears of frustration in your eyes. You wanted to be angry, but you couldn’t.

“You cannot take what?” He asked, sounding more gentle than you expected. Although there was a fire in his eyes which isn’t normally there.

You scoffed, pulling away from his touch as you stood up to face him. “This. Us. Whatever this is. It has to stop.” Your voice cracked, “I…you need to put an end to this.”

Morpheus just stared at you for a moment. Then asked, “And I should let him have you? I should let someone else take what is mine?”

He sounded every bit of the King of Nightmares that he apparently was. Dark and broody, arrogant and powerful. You tried to look away from him, but there’s always been something about the look on Morpheus’ face - like a bored monarch - that made it hard to look at anything else in the room while he was in it.

You spoke softly, “Morpheus, I didn’t know. I didn’t know what this meant. I just went with it thinking it was all fake, that it was all just dreams. But now…” You trailed off, not knowing how to word what you were feeling.

What did you want? For him to leave, forever?

“But now,” Morpheus said, “Now that you know it has been real all along, you wish for it to end? You wish to never see me again?” He questioned with a sly smirk, like he knows the answer.

You frowned at him, defeated, “I don’t know.”

Morpheus stepped closer to you, dangerously close. So close that every fibre of your being tingled and longed to be touched by him. The air around him was almost just as electric as he was. “That is not an answer, is it? Yes or no?”

You sighed, avoiding his eyes as you spoke, “How does this make any sense? I’m just human and you’re… you’re like, God.”

He scoffed, then grabbed your chin so you couldn’t look away from him, “I am more than your god. I’m Endless.” He sounded as arrogant as one.

“That doesn’t make it easier, does it?”

“Yes it does.” He argued quickly. “You belong to me.” He said like it was a finality, his hand trailed down your body, gently, starting from your neck, down to your breasts and all the way down to your thighs where he gripped your hips and pulled you into him.“You’re mine. And by my side is where you belong.” He whispered in your ear while his hand ran up and down your body.

Your body felt like it was on fire under his touch. Your back arched a little, leaning into his touch. As always, you melted. “Morpheus…” You gasped as he squeezed your breast and leaned in to kiss your neck, one of his hands reaching up to wrap around your throat as he kept you in place while he tasted your skin.

“Shh, my darling,” He whispered against your skin. “Let me. Let me make you mine.” And next thing you knew, you were being pushed down on your bed. He pinned you down on the soft mattress by your throat while he stared down into your eyes. “You will let me, won’t you?” He asked, staring down at you with those pretty eyes.

You nodded quickly, “Yes.” You said, breathlessly.

“Good.” He sounded pleased. He made quick work of removing your clothes and then pulled away just enough so he could look down at your bare body beneath him. He held your stare as he took off his clothes. And the way his body moved was hypnotic; taut, lean and all clean lines.

Before you could do anything, Morpheus was kissing down your body and you were a whimpering mess by the time he kissed along your inner thighs. He smirked when you let out a loud moan as he kissed your throbbing clit ever so gently.

You couldn’t resist him. You melted right under his touch as his tongue gently licked down your folds, his hand rubbing up and down your thigh as he pushed his face further into your wet core. You heard him growl before he bit down on the soft skin at your inner thighs to get your attention.

“Look at me.” He mumbled. And when you did he said, “This is mine. Do you understand me?”

You supported yourself up on your elbows and looked down at him, nodding in agreement. Pleased, he held your stare as he attached his mouth to your core again, making you whimper in pleasure. Your legs began shaking a little as he took his time and dragged his tongue up and down your slit.

“Tell me,” He demanded, “Tell me you’re mine. He whispered before he got back to teasing your sensitive spot with his warm and wet tongue, relishing your taste.

“I’m yours, Morpheus. I’m yours and you know it.” You said, moaning as your back arched off the bed as a wave of intense pleasure washed over you.

“And you better remember it. Because if I see someone else touch you like I do ever again, I will make sure they never know sanity again.” He said casually before getting back to teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue.

“Morpheus, please…” you moaned pathetically.

But he didn’t make you come so easily. He licked around your clit one last time before pulling away and kissing his way up your body again. He leaned in to kiss your open mouth eventually, making you gasp and moan and turning you into a breathless mess.

“You’re mine.” He mumbled against your lips, settling in between your legs and his hand reached up to wrap around your throat - as if to remind you that you were his.

You touched him wherever you could, your eager hands roaming his body. “Yes…” You whispered back against his lips. You were a whimpering mess by the time he aligned his erected cock to your entrance.

You shuddered, moaning as you felt all of him filling you up. “You feel that? Do you feel me inside of you?” He asked, tightening his grip around your throat. He smirked when you nodded, “No one else is going to make you feel this way.” He said, leaning in to gently brush his lips against yours but not kissing you just yet. “Do you hear me?” He asked in that growly voice of his.

“Yes,” You said, breathless and whining when he refused to move. And you knew that your soft whimpers only fueled his pride. “Morpheus, please.” You begged, trying to grind your hips against his. But even then he didn’t make a move. He just held you there, pinned under him as he let you feel him properly. His jealousy was quickly taking over him, and so was his hubris.

“Why did you let him touch you the other night?” He asked, surprising you just a little. Because of course he would bring it up right here right now. There was always a subtle cruelness to Morpheus and you could see it well now.

“Morpheus, please.” You pleaded, your brain barely working with how badly you needed him to fuck you.

“No,” He said, “You do not get to beg me. Not now.” And for a moment there he sounded properly cruel. The tone of his voice sent shivers down your spine as you squirmed under him, desperately trying to get some friction. “Tell me,” He continued, “Do I not give enough? Did I not make most of your dreams come true? Was my love not enough for you?” He questioned.

You could barely think straight, but even then, you heard the hurt and the irritation in his voice that was not just cold, but lethal. “I’m… I’m sorry.” You whispered, looking up at him.

“And now you apologise.” He taunted through gritted teeth as he dug his knees into the mattress before pulling out and fucking into you hard. “Do you have any idea what it was like for me to watch that?” He questioned, fucking you slowly, cruelly.

You cried out in pleasure as his cock filled you up again and again.

He tightened his grip around your throat as he sped up into you, growling right in your ear, “I am going to make sure that never happens again.” He whispered, sounding menacing while you were a moaning mess under him as he sped up into you. “You so desperately wanted to be fucked, did you not? Well, I am going to make sure to always keep you satisfied.” He hissed in your ear in that dark voice, speeding up again.

He stretched you out deliciously, perfectly. Filling you up and reaching all the right places as he went, occasionally biting down on your lip as he pounded into you relentlessly.

“I feel good inside of you, do I not, my darling?” He whispered, getting a little breathless himself as he watched you squirm and whine under him.

You nodded, barely able to form a proper sentence. “Yes… you do.”

Morpheus lifted one of your legs and hooked it to his waist, pushing himself deeper inside you, smirking down at you as he felt you clench hard around him. He stared down at you with a handsome and arrogant smirk on his face. “Are you close?” He asked, “Will you come for me?”

You whimpered, “Can I?” You asked.

He almost let you. Almost.

“Do you deserve it?” He asked with the kind of authority in his voice that only made you clench around him harder. He didn’t slow down as you felt you fluttering around him. Instead he kept pounding into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud, lust-drunk and right on the edge. “Do you deserve to? After what you did?” He asked as he fucked into you relentlessly, knowing that he was only making it harder for you to hold back.

You had tears streaming down your face, but he still didn’t let you come just yet. “Please…” You begged.

“Promise me first,” He whispered, leaning down to stare deeper into your eyes, “Promise me you will not turn to anyone else to satisfy you ever again.”

Your walls clenched around him violently and your back arched off the bed. “I promise. I promise, Morpheus please…”

You felt the pressure building up inside you. A burning knot getting tighter and tighter, wanting to explode but just waiting for his command…

“Come for me.” He said finally.

And your orgasm washed over you right as he said so. Your leg around his waist was trembling, and so was your whole body as you came for him. Gasping and moaning, squirming beneath him given he didn’t stop thrusting into you as you came.

You felt your mind getting foggy, your walls tightening around his length, gushing out around his cock while he still pounded relentlessly into you until he came as well, grunting and breathing heavily, filling you up so much that you could feel it. Some of it trickled out of you when he carefully removed his cock from your body and looked down to where his cum dripped down your inner thighs.

“Mine.” He said, one final time. His voice coarse and deeper than usual.

As he wrapped his arms around your trembling frame, you whispered against his warm skin, “Yours.”

#morpheus x reader #the sandman #morpheus smut #dream of the endless

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shorthaltsjester · 1 year

Text

if i ever have to see another thought piece on the description of the white picket fence outside of fjord and jester’s place in mighty nein reunited indicating jester’s unhappiness in the relationship i will burn the world to the ground.

a) heteronormativity doesn’t exist in exandria !

b) fjord isn’t your Typical Male Love Interest Guy. if i ever have to read someone say that shit again i’m gonna (correctly) assume they haven’t paid attention at all to campaign 2 and any of fjord’s character arc.

c) perhaps, jester lavorre, woman who was raised on the ideology of romance novels and sexuality as exchange, might just find it uh… not a terrible thing that the white picket fence is falling apart outside since… fjord explicitly does Not feel like those romance novels to her, instead he feels comfortable. the way that a brightly painted but rarely used house might, especially when the couple in question spends most of their time adventuring together… which is an essential part of jester’s motivations throughout the campaign.

d) the reason fjord and jester seem unhappy in the reunion might be because, well, uh, whereas everyone else was getting a “vacation”, jester and fjord’s life together (specifically the fact that Fjord Loves Jester Enough To Risk The World (Momentarily) To Save Her) was the inciting action for an apocalyptic demigod being released - they Were unhappy. who wouldn’t be given those circumstances. jester nearly died, and fjord felt like the god that once saved him had now abandoned him, i am so truly sorry that their romance was not satisfactory for your vision of atypical romance (which, by the way, is literally reinforcing the restrictive romantic tropes you think you’re criticizing, so good job i guess). i would be much, much more concerned if jester and fjord Weren’t clearly dismayed.

e) both fjord and jester are individuals whose entire lives and character are defined by the expectation (both external and internal) that they behave and emote a certain way. that they’re in a relationship with someone who they feel that they can show that they are frustrated with or disagree on the layout of their house with or have different ideas on how to deal with the looming threat of a demigod is incredible. jester and fjord are emblematic of a relationship in which the characters Aren’t meant to be, but they Want to be together and they want to understand and support the other person so they work at it. we wouldn’t have conversations like “you seem disheartened..” “i am very disheartened! you almost died!” if they didn’t take the time and care to communicate with one another.

f) if you want a honeymoon era joyful queer romance, yasha and beau are right there! they are explicitly horny and in love and bright about it! if queerness is your measure of “trope breaking” i am very sorry to tell you that queer people partake in white picket fences, and i’d actually argue that in terms of Lifestyle Metaphor, beauyasha are more adherent to the whitepicket fence, nuclear familyism. this isn’t a detriment to them, just, very literally, beau works a 9-5 where she comes back to her housewife who gardens and cooks dinner and their future includes explicit reference to children. comparatively, fjord wants to address some issues in his past, jester is an artist, and both of them are interested in adventure for the foreseeable future.

g) if you truly think that a single part of laura’s description of the part-time abode of fjord and jester overrides every interaction and choice that both laura and travis make towards fjord and jester caring for each other in a deep and meaningful way that goes beyond the weird fandom constructed Man/Woman characters being portrayed by a married couple i truly, Truly have no idea why you even watch the many hours of content that cr is when you could… play/write your own shit.

#usually i would simply block and ignore but! i got one of those weird twitter recommended tweet notifs #and there were far too many likes #also like. ppl talk about that home as if it is where fjord and jester are living their everyday life #they are on the ship most of the time. of course it’s downtrodden and illlooked after. they are adventuring. they’re writing their own story #fjord #fjord stone #jester lavorre #fjord + jester #fjorester #critical role #cr2 #mighty nein #cr meta #kinda #i’m not tagging this discourse because it’s stupid and against my principles if u don’t like this block me :)#the mighty nein

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jeankluv · 24 days

Text

Birdie | Satoru Gojo - Chapter 01

Words: 4.8k

Summary: You didn’t like him, at all. But due to your bad luck you would have to be forced to work with him and different circumstances end up leading you to the fact that perhaps the word dislike is not the one you use to describe him.

Note: divider art credit _3aem (twt)

Tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball

Slow updates

Materialist | next chapter

Wattpad | ao3

While everyone adored him, you stood apart in your feelings. It wouldn't be accurate to say you hated him, as "hate" carried significant weight; rather, you harbored a profound dislike towards him. The problem was he knew that and his irritating presence seemed to persistently cling to you whenever he crossed your paths.

Now, you found yourself paired with him for your semester project, and the thought made you wish to hurl yourself out of the third-floor window. Three months of working alongside him loomed ahead. Adding to the discomfort, you were currently under the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes, each gaze feeling like a murder attempt. It seemed everyone coveted the opportunity to collaborate with Gojo Satoru, except for you.

“We will divide the project in two.” You said looking at the information the teacher gave you. “So we can work on it separately and once we are done we will put it together.” You didn’t like the idea but you disliked even more the idea of spending time outside the class with him.

“That wouldn’t work out, it’s better if we schedule a time to meet and we start working on it.” Gojo talked.

“No.” You said. “I’m way too busy to think about meeting outside of classes.” And it was true, you were working in two different jobs to pay the bills of college and the tiny apartment you were staying on.

“Oh c’mon!” He pouted. “It’s impossible that you are busy every day of the week at every hour.”

“Well I am.” You were starting to get angry, couldn’t he understand you didn’t want to meet with him.

The ring rang and you thanked it, it was time to leave for another class, one you wouldn’t have to see the perfect face of Satoru Gojo.

“Wait! How do we stay in contact?” Gojo spoke when you were about to leave the classroom. You could feel the gaze of a group of girl right on your neck.

“With the email.”

“C’mon.” He said your name. “Give me your number.”

“No and now leave me. I need to get to my class.”

You walked past the group of girls that were chatting obviously about the scene that just happened.

“How can she be so rude with Satoru?”

“Yeah who does she think she is? Does she even know who Satoru is?”

“She is such a loser.”

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. Of course, you were well aware of who he was - everyone knew him. A pampered child from a wealthy family, born into privilege and affluence, often referred to as an “old money baby”. He had everything handed to him on a silver platter - impeccable looks, tall, athletic, and intelligence. For many, he embodied the epitome of perfection. However, for you, he was nothing more than an insufferable jerk whom you couldn't stand.

On the flip side, you were the complete opposite of him. Life hadn't dealt you a fair hand - you struggled to make ends meet. When your mother passed away when you were just six, and your father vanished after hearing news of her pregnancy. Left with no one but your grandmother, you found solace in her loving care. However, as time marched on, you were once again confronted with loneliness when she passed away when you were just 16. With only a meager inheritance from your grandmother and the income from your job at a local store, you barely scraped by until the age of 18. Thankfully, your relentless dedication to your studies paid off when you earned a scholarship to attend the University of Tokyo.

Even though you got into a good college on the degree you wanted, your life in Tokyo hasn’t been quite easy. You were living in a tiny apartment, going to college and working two jobs because it would be impossible to make it to the end of the month with just one job. Luckily, the scholarship covered all my college expenses, but living in Tokyo wasn't exactly easy on the wallet. I found myself navigating life in the bustling city all on my own.

But your aversion towards Gojo Satoru began two years ago, on the first day of college. Rushing late after exhausting yourself at work, you collided with him, causing you to stumble to the ground. Prepared to offer an apology, you were met with his irate ranting, delivered without even a glance in your direction. Had you not been humiliated on the ground, you might have slapped some sense into him right then and there. Why was he so infuriated when he was clearly the one at fault? And the fact that he couldn't even look at you added insult to injury. Frustrated and embarrassed, you left before he could utter another word; you had no desire to hear anything further from him.

The true agony hit when you discovered he would be sharing classes with you. From then on, you made every effort to steer clear of him and his foolishness. However, it seemed everyone in your class, and even in other majors, adored him. The teachers showered him with praise because everything he touched turned to gold. Despite being at the university for two years, you had never managed to outperform his grades, and it infuriated you beyond measure.

For the past two years, you had been lucky enough to avoid partnering with him. However, it appeared that luck had finally abandoned you, and now you were destined to endure his company for the next three months.

You sat on the seat you would normally choose and took out the notebook to take notes of the next class.

“I heard you got assigned with Satoru Gojo in one of your classes.” You heard a voice next to you which made you jump.

“Kyoko… don’t scare me like that.” You cried while putting your hand on your chest trying to calm down. “How did you find out?”

“Well, everyone was talking about how a girl who got paired with the great Satoru Gojo was so rude to him and how she should be more grateful for this glorious opportunity.” You rolled your eyes.

“I might throw myself out of the window…” You leaned your head against the table and closed your eyes. “Three months Kyoko, three months.”

“I know…you know that you can talk to me if he does anything to bother you.”

“Thank you, you’re the best Kyoko.”

She smiled warmly at you, and together you turned your attention to the class. You had met Kyoko on the same day as your initial encounter with Gojo Satoru. Sitting together in one of the classes, an instant connection formed between you two, and from that moment onward, you were inseparable. Kyoko brought a brightness into your life like a ray of sunshine piercing through clouds. On the first Christmas when she discovered you would be spending it alone in your apartment, she whisked you away to her home, where you celebrated with her and her parents. Since then, Kyoko's parents had filled the void of the parents you had dearly missed, and Kyoko herself had become the sister you had always longed for.

The class was over before you knew it. Your hands hurt after taking notes non-stop and your head felt like it was about to explode after barely sleeping last night.

“Do you have time to eat with me? Or you have to go to the grocery store already?” Kyoko stood besides you while walking in the corridor.

“Today I can eat with you. My shift doesn’t start until 3 p.m. so it’s alright.”

Kyoko looked at you with concerned eyes. “Are you sure you are properly resting? You look tired and the grocery store job is okay, but I’m worried about you working on that bar at nights.”

You sighed, she was right the bar was an unpleasant place, most of those who went were men in their 40s or 50s who left their offices and spent the night drinking until they fell at the bar counter, while making obscene comments. But they paid well and the money was something I desperately needed.

You smiled at her. “I will be alright. Don’t worry.”

“You know you can always come to life with me, I know my parents wouldn’t bother taking you in. And if you feel like it would be too much, you could always pay something but then you could quit that crappy job and just work at the grocery store.”

“Kyoko… we already talked about it. I appreciate you and your parents' good heart and intentions but I can handle everything.” She nodded. “And I know I can always count on you.”

“Always.” And she held you from the arm. “Now let’s go and eat something. My treat.” You were about to protest when Kyoko cut you off. “No excuses, you deserve me to invite you especially because my poor best friend is going to have to put up with her least favorite person in the world for three months.”

“Ugh!” You rolled your eyes. “Please don’t remind me of that.”

Both of you laughed and made your way straight to the cafeteria, your stomachs growling with hunger. You had only managed to gulp down a coffee that morning to wake up, and now you were convinced you could devour the entire menu. Taking your usual seats at the table, Kyoko headed to order your food. The cafeteria buzzed with activity, students weaving in and out while conversations filled the air. You glanced at your phone, hoping for some notifications, but all you found were promotional emails from the supermarket.

Kyoko returned with the food, setting it down in front of you, and you delved into a conversation about Kyoko's recent date. It seemed the boy had shown a keen interest in her, but your friend hadn't felt the same way about him. Being the kind-hearted person she was, Kyoko struggled with how to gently let him know she wasn't interested in continuing to see him.

“Oh shit…” Kyoko whispered.

“What?”

“Don’t turn around but I think a certain someone is coming here.” Your eyebrow arched and you clenched your fists.

“Tell me that the certain someone doesn’t have white hair…” Kyoko grimaced and by the time you wanted to say something, the person responsible for your headache at that very moment had sat down next to you.

“Hello ladies!!” He talked with the happiest tone. He called your name but you ignored him, you didn’t want to interact with him, not even a bit. “I don’t think we know each other. I’m Satoru Gojo.” He talked to Kyoko.

“Kyoko. And we actually share a class together.”

“Oh! We do? Sorry I can’t remember it. But it is nice to meet you, Kyoko.”

“Satoru…” Another male voice spoke behind you. Your head was really going to explode.

“Oh Suguru! Come here!” He moved his hand, pointing at the seat next to Kyoko.

“Satoru… why don’t you leave the girls eating alone.” The boy of dark hair looked at his friend and then at both of you. “I'm sorry for bothering you.”

“It’s okay, don't worry.” Kyoko smiled back at him.

“Come on Suguru! Let’s eat with them… I need to spend more time with my classmate, right birdie?” You looked at him.

“Who are you calling birdie?” You were angry, why was he giving you nicknames like you have known each other for years or like you were close.

“Oh so now you pay attention to me…” He smirked and tilted his head as he rested it on his hand and looked at you.

You snorted and pushed the plate away. “Kyoko, I have to go or I'll be late.” You said goodbye to Gojo's friend, who you assumed was called Suguru, and ignored Gojo.

“Take care.” You heard Kyoko. “And sent me a message once you arrived home from the bar!” You gave her a thumbs up and left the cafeteria.

You felt uneasy. What was Gojo Satoru playing at, giving you a nickname? And that look he just gave you—what was that about? You couldn't stand it. Sinking into your seat on the bus, you put on your headphones, seeking a brief respite before reaching your workplace. You were scheduled to work for five hours, followed by a rush to the bar, where you'd likely be working until 2 a.m., if luck was on your side.

As your eyelids grew heavy, you recognized the familiar streets passing by. With just a few stops left until your destination, you stretched out in your seat and rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the fatigue.

You got out of the bus and walked a few steps until you reached the small grocery store where you work. You still had 5 minutes left to work but between changing and preparing everything the time would arrive. You greeted Yu who was behind the counter serving a customer and went to the employee room at the back.

“You are early.” Haibara entered the room.

“I’m 5 minutes earlier… is not THAT early.” You smiled at him.

“You know you can always take the day off and rest. I can cover you if you need it, you look so tired.”

“I’m okay but thank you Haibara.”

“Okay! Then if you are taking my place I will get going. A friend of mine is waiting for me.” You nodded. “Call me if you need anything.”

You waved goodbye to him and observed as he rendezvoused with a tall blonde guy outside the store, someone you vaguely recognized from campus. Throughout the afternoon, several children trickled in to purchase trinkets, occasionally accompanied by adults picking up a few items. The day had been relatively quiet, affording you the opportunity to jot down some notes and review your studies.

As closing time approached, the sliding door chimed open once more, signaling the arrival of another customer. However, you were preoccupied assisting a lady who was meticulously counting the coins needed to pay for her purchase.

“Thank you so much darling.” She said once you were done with her. “Have a nice night.”

“Thanks to you! And please come here again.”

“Hello birdie!” Your mouth opened slightly when you saw who was waiting to be served and the last customer of the day.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” You screamed angrily.

He looked down and moved the bottle he was holding. “Buying something to drink.” He smiled, showing his perfect smile.

“Here?” He nodded. “In this grocery store?” He nodded again. “Of this unknown neighborhood?” He nodded once again. “Gojo…” You touched your head, closing your eyes. “I don’t know what you want or your intentions but don’t you dare bother me anymore.”

“I already told you birdie I’m here, to buy this.” He put the bottle in front of you.

“There you have it. Now, bye.” You turned around and started cleaning some things that were around. It was time to close and you needed to hurry up to got to the bar.

You picked up and changed into the clothes you had come in. For a moment you had to lean against the wall, for an hour or so you had been dizzy and nauseous, but you couldn't allow yourself to be absent. You turned off the lights and closed the grocery store.

“What are you still doing here?” You turned around to look at Gojo who was right in front of the shop.

He walked smiling towards you. “Waiting for you.”

You rolled your eyes, couldn’t he understand you or something. “Well, I don’t want you to be waiting for me. So now… BYE!” And you started moving towards the bar.

“Oh c’mon.” He said your name this time. “Let me accompany you to your house or at least near it. It’s not good for a girl to…”

“Are you a stalker?” Gojo opened his mouth. “And I’m not going home, I need to get to work and because of you I might be late.”

“Work? But you just get out of it.” He walked next to you. “Why would you have two works…”

“Listen Gojo! Not everyone is born on a silver spoon. Some of us have to work our asses out to get the things we want.” You were tired. “You are lucky your parents probably get you everything they want for you but not everyone is that lucky.”

“You’re pale. Are you okay?” You certainly weren’t, but you couldn't afford to be, you had to go to work. “Oh shit! You might have a fever.” His hand was on your forehead, wait when did he get that close?

“Leave me…” Everything was spinning around.

“Hey!” You felt how Gojo held you, preventing you from falling to the ground, and then everything went black.

You weren't certain how long you had been unconscious, but it was certainly for a considerable amount of time. As you blinked your eyes open, you found yourself surrounded by darkness, with only a faint glow of outside light seeping into the room. Despite the dimness, you were able to swiftly recognize your surroundings. You were in Kyoko's room, but how had you ended up there? The last memory you could recall was being with Gojo before blacking out.

“Kyoko?” You whispered. You were confused and still feeling sick.

You saw how a silhouette moved to grab something from the table and then a light from the cell phone illuminated the room.

Kyoko whispered your name. “How are you feeling?”

“Still dizzy…” You touched your head. “How did I get here?”

“Satoru called me.” You looked at her confused, since when she called him Satoru and since when did she have his number. “Don’t look at me like that, when you left I stayed with him and with his friend, Suguru and they are pretty nice guys.” You rolled your eyes. “And his friend is pretty cute.”

“Kyoko…”

“What? It’s true, he was so polite and nice and did you know he studies…”

“Do you like him?”

“I mean… it’s early to say that but I would love to go out with him sometime.” Your friend smiled.

“You remember that there is a guy still waiting for an answer from you right?”

Kyoko pouted. “I know… I will let him know I’m not interested, because it’s true I’m not.”

“Good…”

“But now to what is important.” Oh here it came. “What would you have done if Satoru wasn’t there when you fainted?”

“I… it was just a coincidence. I was totally find this morning.”

Kyoko said your name heavily. “How much have you slept this week? And be honest with me.”

You thought for a moment. “5 hours…”

“That’s not bad, I thought you were going to say something like 2 hours.”

“In the last 3 days…”

Kyoko opened her mouth, letting a gasp out. “Are you insane? You want to die or something?”

“Sorry! But college and the jobs… the jobs, my shift on the bar…”

“Relax. I called them and told them you were sick after Satoru called me.” You breathed in relief. “But don’t try to change the topic. 5 hours in 3 days?! That’s inhuman and you can’t keep going like this.”

“And what do I do Kyoko?” You pulled the sheets up to your face.

“Stay here… we have a spare room, you can stay there.” You growled, Kyoko knew that was too much. Even if you were her best friend, you were still someone from outside the family. “You can pay a minimum if that will make you feel better, but if you stay here you wouldn’t have to pay the rent you are paying right now and you wouldn’t have to work at that shitty bar.”

“I… I will think about it okay…” Kyoko nodded.

“Now go back to sleep.”

“Okay…” You closed your eyes.

“And by the way.” Kyoko spoke again. “Start thinking what you are going to say to Satoru, you throw up on him.”

“I… WHAT?” Your eyes opened like plates.

“Good night~”

“No Kyoko, tell me! What do you mean I threw up on Gojo?” You cried.

“Go to sleep.”

You groaned, feeling utterly mortified at the thought of having thrown up on Gojo. This was beyond embarrassing—how were you supposed to face him and apologize for such a humiliating incident? The desire to vanish into thin air consumed you. Your head spun with the aftermath of the situation, and before you knew it, you had drifted off to sleep.

Upon waking up again, you sensed that several hours had passed; sunlight now flooded through the window, illuminating the room entirely. Kyoko was nowhere to be seen, and you sat up in bed, stretching your stiff body. You felt utterly filthy after experiencing fever and vomiting; a shower was desperately needed.

Searching for your phone to check the time, you discovered several messages awaiting your attention—some from Kyoko and others from an unknown number.

Kyoko ☀️

Rest as much as you want. My mom left you food prepared in the kitchen but you will be alone for most of the day.

You can take my clothes if you want.

And don’t worry about the classes I will take the notes for you.

And by the way, I’m sorry and I love you 😘

Sorry? For what? You tapped on the unknown number and then you understood why she was sorry.

xxxx

Hellooooo birdie !!

Kyoko gave me your number, don’t get angry at her.

I hope you feel better soon

You clenched your fists and sighed, now you would have to endure it because of your cell phone too.

You to Kyoko ☀️

You should be grateful I love you so much and I won’t kill you.

And thanks, I will be taking a shower and do you mind if I take one of your pajamas?

Kyoko ☀️

Everything that’s mine is yours 😘

You rolled your eyes at your friend. And opened once again the chat of Gojo. How should you respond to him? Should you apologize for throwing up at him? Should you just be as cold as always? The guy was messaging you after you fainted and threw up on him, he didn’t deserve to be treated coldly although you wanted to.

You to Pain in the ass

Hi. I’m good

Thanks for yesterday and sorry for what happened…

Also stop calling me birdie, people would think we are close or something

Leaving your phone on the table, you grabbed one of Kyoko's pajamas and made your way to the bathroom. Compared to a few hours ago, you felt significantly better; the fever seemed to have subsided or at least diminished in intensity. After a refreshing shower, you changed into the pajamas and headed to the kitchen.

True to Kyoko's word, her mother had left a plate of food prepared for you. Grateful for the gesture, you sat down to enjoy the meal. Retrieving your phone once more, you noticed two notifications, which came as a surprise—they were not the usual supermarket offers.

Pain in the ass

Don’t worry about it, I’m glad to hear you are okay

*This message was deleted*

What did he send and delete after?

Pain in the ass

Since you are sick we decided to accompany Kyoko for lunch!

And there was a picture of Kyoko with Gojo and two other people, the guy from yesterday, Suguru and another girl you didn’t know about. Kyoko was smiling and doing the peace sign next to Suguru, while Gojo was the one taking the selfie and showing off his perfect teeth.

You to Pain in the ass

You better treat Kyoko right, or you will hear from me once I’m back at class.

It was hard to believe you were talking so casually with him. You shook your head, talking like that on the phone was just a way of being polite with him, nothing else.

Pain in the ass

If that way I get you to talk to me

You stayed looking at the message for a couple of minutes. Something on your stomach was moving. Stupid Satoru Gojo.

You to Pain in the ass

By the way, do I need to pay you something… for you know…

Pain in the ass

For what?

You to Pain in the ass

Don’t make me say it, it’s way too embarrassing.

Pain in the ass

If you don’t tell me what I won’t know 🤷

You to Pain in the ass

Throwing up on you!

Do I need to pay for something? Like dry cleaning or something?

Pain in the ass

Hehe

You wanted to punch him, he obviously knew.

Pain in the ass

Nop, you don’t need to pay anything. Don’t worry 😉

You to Pain in the ass

Okay, now I will leave to sleep

Don’t bother me Gojo!

Pain in the ass

Alright birdie!!

Rest well. I don’t want you throwing up and fainting in the arms of other people

You to Pain in the ass

Say something like that again and I’m blocking you

Pain in the ass

🥺

You rolled your eyes and left the phone once again. He really was a pain in the ass. You went to Kyoko’s room and lay down on her bed, although you were feeling better, you were still feeling tired, so you decided to sleep for a bit more, at least until Kyoko returned home.

You heard a door close and someone walk down the hall in silence. You knew it was Kyoko when she entered the room. She walked up to you and you smiled at her when your eyes met.

“You look better.”

“I feel better.” You say stretching on yourself. “I feel like I have slept everything I haven’t slept in a month.” You looked at Kyoko and she was doing a grimace of disgust. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Have you thought about it? About moving here?”

You did. You thought about it a lot, but you couldn't deny that you were at a point where if you continued at that pace you would end up killing yourself.

“I will.” Kyoko screamed with happiness. “But only if your parents are okay with it.”

“And they are! Don’t worry.” She started clapping and jumped out of bed with happiness. “By the way, I’m surprised you met Satoru yesterday at the grocery store.”

You looked at her strangely. “Didn't you tell her where she worked?” Kyoko shook her head.

And then it hit you, you haven't told Haibara that you would not be going to work today, he would probably be covering for you and you would have to tell him.

“Shit… Where is my phone?” You looked around.

“Who is Pain in the ass?” Kyoko hang you the phone.

“It’s Gojo…” She nodded while you searched for the number of Haibara on your phone. “Haibara!” You said when you heard him picking up. “Yeah it’s me… I’m so sorry, I’m sick and I couldn’t go today… I hope you-” Kyoko looked at you when felt silent. “What do you mean you already knew? Who told you?” Kyoko watched you with interest trying something of what was said on the other end of the phone. “Oh… okay. I will thank him then… Yeah. Bye.” And you throw the phone to the side.

“What’s with that face?”

“Gojo Satoru told my coworker I was sick.”

“That’s pretty considerate.”

“They are friends…”

“Who?”

“My coworker and Gojo, that’s why he appeared there.” You realized. “Probably Haibara told him and he came to bother.”

Kyoko called your name and you looked at her. “I don’t think he went to bother you…”

“Well… but it’s strange he went all the way to that place! Why would he go if it wasn’t to bother me?”

Your best friend sighed and closed her eyes, whispering something you could not hear and then looked back at you. “Thanks he was there. Or who knows what would have happened to you.”

You rolled your eyes. “You are right. And I already thanked him.”

“Oh you did?”

“Don’t act surprised when you were the one that gave him my number.”

She put her hands in the air and smiled. “Sorry. But he was really, REALLY insistent…”

“I can imagine.”

“He sent you a message right? What did he say?”

You took the phone and unlocked it to see the message that Gojo sent you.

Pain in the ass

I'll save you place next to me in class for tomorrow 🙆

What’s up with him?

“Oh…” Kyoko smiled next to you.

“What?”

“Nothing… figure it out yourself baby.” She smiled.

“Kyoko… Kyoko, what did that oh ment, come back here.” You followed her through the corridor while she laughed.

“No.” She continued laughing. “Oh!” She stopped walking and turned to look at you. “I already sent a message to the guy.”

“Finally.”

“Yeah…”

“You? Are you really going to try and go out with Gojo’s friend?”

She shrugged and smiled. The fact that Kyoko started dating Gojo's friend didn't particularly bother you, but it did mean potentially spending even more time with Gojo than you had anticipated. The mere thought made your head ache again. However, before dealing with that, you needed to figure out how to face Satoru Gojo tomorrow. It would mark the first encounter since... that incident.

Note: a comment and a like would be appreciated. Also comment to be tagged in the chapters

Tag list: @crybabytoru, @sanriosatoru, @norvacaine, @sadmonke

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guanana · 2 years

Text

neotherapy (18+)

"Hey, uh... hello? You've reached Neo Therapy Practitioners, this is Jisung speaking!

Oh, you wanted to schedule with us? Sounds good! And who will you be visiting today?"

— Let’s face it, this whole adulting thing? Shit fucking sucks. Working from nine to five as a corporate slave for the next forty years until you’re rendered obsolete isn't exactly what you'd consider a fulfilling lifestyle. Between a ridiculous workload, an asshole supervisor, and an inexplicable amount of failed dates— it’s fair to say that you were one minor inconvenience away from committing arson.

That changes for the better when your coworker refers you to Dr. Lee at Neo Therapy Practitioners. A complex with a multitude of services to provide. Ranging from chiropractic adjustment, to beauty services, to even a practice as niche as aromatherapy? You find yourself dabbling in each of these services to unwind from all the stress, gaining confidence and relaxation in the process.

You unfortunately learn nothing in life is without consequence, however. When you end up in certain "situations" with each provider— you think you may have bit off just a little more than you can chew. But hey, beauty is pain, right?

— scheduled appointments

♡ session 1: step on a crack, dr. lee's gonna break your back!

– by guanana

[ “That’s what I’m here for. I’ll put you right back into shape.” ]

pairing: jeno x reader

summary: After years of sitting hunched over at an office desk and squinting your eyes at an overly saturated computer screen, your back finally gives out on you and decides it needs a break.

Good thing your friendly neighborhood chiropractor Dr. Lee is here to save the day! Small issue though— he’s really fucking hot and he’s got a way with his hands.

status — booked

♡ session 2: paint nails n' get railed!

– by mondaycoffee

[ “So? Do you want that discount or not?” ]

pairing: yangyang x reader

summary: At the suggestion of Dr. Lee, you find yourself setting up an appointment at Yangyang’s Paint-n-Go, Neo Therapy Practitioners’ very own nail bar! However, when you discover just how freaking expensive it is to get a mani-pedi done these days, your tech has an offer that you find difficult to refuse…

status — booked

♡ session 3: wants n' kneads

– by guanana

[ “This would be a lot easier if we kept conversation to a minimum. I can’t do my job properly if you don’t shut up.” ]

pairing: jaemin x reader

summary: The stress of the office has caught up to you once again. In fact, it came back so strong your back gives out ten times worse than before.

As if it couldn't get any worse, Jeno’s out of town. With your trusty chiropractor missing in action, circumstance leads you to the front door of Neo Therapy’s late night masseuse. Jaemin's not the friendliest nor the most talkative, so your utter confusion makes complete sense when his fingers find themselves knuckle-deep in your pussy halfway through the massage.

status: scheduled

♡ session 4: sugar, spice, n' good advice!

– by mondaycoffee

[ “I see her everywhere. She’s the early morning rain, the neglected cup of coffee sitting on the bathroom sink, and kind words from a stranger when you need them the most. I am used to seeing those traces of her, and, more often than not, it is I who seek them. But, when I’m with you, her memory gets the slightest bit fainter and that’s really nice.” ]

pairing: renjun x reader

summary: After your last appointment, you find out the origin of the pleasant smelling oils used during your massage: the handsome Mr. Huang working just across the hall. You discover through research that he’s a popular Aromatherapist in your area, and that he’s known particularly for his expertise in treating work-related stress. Perfect! You discover that he’s the complete opposite of what you had gotten with the emotionless masseuse, Jaemin; he is kind-hearted, gentle, and a wonderful listener. So it’s no surprise that after only a few sessions, you’re falling hard for sweet Renjun—with disastrous consequences.

status: scheduling

♡ session 5: find love, or dye trying

– by mondaycoffee

[ “Dude, watch it! You’re gonna get bleach on my vintage 1987 David Bowie Glass Spider Tour shirt!” ]

pairing: mark x reader

summary: If someone were to ask you if the glass was half-full or half-empty, you’d simply answer by bashing the glass against their head. You were not rolling with the punches, life throwing one thing after another with no signs of stopping. It’s so bad that Haechan finds a whole patch of white hairs forming at your scalp. Entering a quarter life crisis, you make your way to Neo Therapy’s highly acclaimed hair stylist as quickly as possible.

Now enter the eccentric—and painfully awkward—Mark Lee. While he doesn’t know a lot of things, he seems to know just how to fix you up. But while you’re stuck in his chair, you discover that he also has a knack for pissing you off. And what does a sane person do when they lose their cool? Step on a man’s cock, of course!

status: scheduling

♡ session 6 (FINALE): face your fears

– by guanana

[ "You don't always have to do things on your own, you know. I'm always gonna be here for you." ]

pairing: ? x reader

summary: You would think after all of the dollars you've invested into Neo Therapy Practitioners, you'd be much better off than how you started both physically and mentally. That's not the case though— you'd say you've gotten even worse.

After the trials and tribulations you've suffered from at the hands of the dastardly attractive men, you decide it's time to throw in the towel and accept that this 'treat yourself' shtick just isn't for you.

At least, that's what you had planned until you receive a call from the person you'd least expect. And just maybe, it might be what you've needed all along.

status: scheduling

— prologue

“Yeah, the fish was bigger than my forearm! Little prick nearly took me overboard, so you’re honestly lucky to be sitting in my presence today.” Your blind date guffaws, taking an obnoxiously loud sip of his wine.

You tried to be attentive, you really did. It isn’t often that you actually go out on dates, but when one of your ‘girlfriends’ offered to set you up with her “charming and well-mannered” coworker, you decided that it would be good to get out of the house for a while and enjoy yourself. However, this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind. Fortunately it doesn’t take long for you to see this man for who he truly is: a complete and total jack off.

Kevin Moon, on paper, is everything that a woman could ask for in a partner. He has a stable, high-paying job, and he makes enough money for you to step down from your position at the office and take care of the house. For an office man, he’s not exactly lacking in the looks department either, bragging that he works out daily to maintain his physique. When you ask him why he agreed to go on a date with you, however, his answer strikes you as more than a little off-putting. “Honestly??” He traces a finger along the circumference of a dinner plate, not breaking eye contact with you. “I was told that you have a bangin’ body. Needless to say, I wasn’t disappointed by that assessment.”

Your heart sinks to the bottom of your seat, watching a wolfish grin overtake his handsome face. Of course your friend didn’t say something like ‘Oh, she has an admirable work ethic’ or even a simple ‘She’s beautiful, I think you would like her.’ She has reduced you to the shell you inhabit without so much as trying. You squirm uncomfortably under his gaze, “Ah, I see…” You hum absentmindedly, trying to focus on anything but the man in front of you.

“Say,” He trails a suggestive hand across the table, grazing your own that rests next to your barely touched food. Having opted for the salad as your appetizer after he shot you a rather judgmental stare when you asked the waitress for fried calamari. Remembering the way he had spoken over you, taking on a snappy tone with the young lady. “Why don’t we take this back to my place?”

The logical thing to do would be to pack your things and leave this bastard high and dry. But you did tell your friend that you would give him a chance, that you were ready to get back into the game.

Your mind trails back to your time with Dr. Lee Jeno, your chiropractor who had shown you that there was nothing wrong with casual sex. While you enjoyed it and had gone back for seconds, thirds, and even more– the both of you had agreed that you were simply in different places in life right now. He was much too work oriented to make time for a relationship, and you were in pursuit of something more stable. Agreeing that your relationship held no depth aside from great sexual chemistry in bed.

An index finger traces down your knuckle, bringing your attention back to the man across from you. He tries a bit too hard to flash you some bedroom eyes, looking like he just ate an edible whole rather than looking desirable. Rather than subtly biting his lip, the man was just chowing down on the flesh.

The bar must be in hell. Because in retrospect, the next words that come out in your mouth could’ve easily stayed within the burner of your mind. With a heavy sigh, you decide to throw the dog a bone.

“Sure, let’s go.”

—-

“God damn,” Kevin groans after pulling out of you. Rolling and splatting back flat onto his king-sized bed with fast paced breaths. Popping off the used condom and tossing it into the trash bin near his dresser. “You’re amazing.”

You really wished you could say the same, but you couldn’t lie to save your life. Mr. Moon was subpar, and that was being generous. The man has not mastered the motion of the ocean, and was a two-pump chump at that. Bland, boring, and overall textbook sex has you regretting ever agreeing to a night out with him.

If it was bound to go nowhere, you wouldn’t have had that much of a problem. Never one to set your expectations so high as to not set yourself up for disappointment. But was it really too much to ask for a basic understanding of human anatomy? He couldn’t locate your clit to save his life, and that’s not even the worst part.

You didn’t even get a free meal out of this. The son of a bitch grinning at you cheesily back at the restaurant, shame apparent when he tells you that he’s ‘forgotten his wallet.’

Looking up at his ceiling, you refuse to look him in the eye. You’re especially ashamed of yourself for settling. If you wanted dick that badly, Jeno could’ve easily just fucked you until you literally couldn’t think properly.

Kevin watches you worriedly when you pick yourself up, redressing yourself and patting yourself down. Wordless when you collect your bag from the coat rack. “Heading out already?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You reply dryly when you make your way down the stairs, Kevin following closely with his now flaccid dick swinging with every step. God, he’s shameless.

“I mean, did you want to spend the night?” He clears his throat.

“I’m alright,” Your hand is already on the door handle, ready to head home to cleanse yourself of tonight’s sins. “I’ve got an early morning tomorrow.”

“Could I see you another day, then? Maybe Friday night?”

It takes everything in you to not sneer at his audacity when he tries to grab at your wrist. Seeking solace in biting your cheek. If it was up to you, you’d never see him ever again.

“I’m going to have a late night, I won’t be able to make it.”

“Saturday then?”

You blink at him slowly, almost appalled when he doesn’t get the hint.

“...Sunday?”

Oh, brother.

“You know what?” You say, twisting the door handle before taking a step out. Secondhand embarrassment running heavily through your veins when he follows you out, bare ass out for his neighbors to see if they were to look outside. “I’ll keep you posted.”

His lips form into a disappointed ‘o.’ “Uh, text me?”

“Yeah, something like that.” And with that, you were gone with the wind.

––

You’re late.

That much is apparent as you walk into the private room rented by your group of friends, voicing an apology upon your late arrival. You rush toward the open chair, frazzled as you drape your coat and bag across the top. Nobody found it important enough to wait on you before starting on their meals, save for Yeri who greeted you when you took your place next to her. “It’s really, really nice to see you.” Her voice is sweet and her smile warm, you can already feel your nerves begin to melt away.

“You too, it’s been way too long.” You murmur, pulling her into a side hug. You mean it; out of all of the people in attendance, Yeri was the only person you could truly call your friend. She always made sure to keep you in the loop, extending hang outs to you even when the others hadn’t. “I hope you’ve been well.”

A nasally voice from across the table interrupts your conversation, painted lips pulling into a veneered grin. “Ya-da, ya-da. I don’t know about everyone else, but I for one would really like to hear how that date with Kevin from HR went.”

Of course she would. The owner of the voice, Rianne, sat opposite of you at the large table. She was the one who contacted you about the date in the first place, assuring you that he was the perfect gentleman. However, the triumphant look in her eyes revealed the truth– she absolutely knew exactly what she had thrown you into…and now she wants to hear you recount your failure in front of everyone.

“It went alright.” You take a long drink of your water, swallowing down your pride along with an ice cube or two.

Her eyes were predatory as she watched you swallow, “Oh, that’s lovely! Are you going on a second date? You were all he could talk about in the office yesterday.”

And suddenly you’re choking, water going down entirely the wrong way. “Really?” You manage between coughs. “What– what did he say?”

“He said that you were so eager,” Rianne hid her smiling mouth behind a napkin, eyes betraying her amusement. “You couldn’t seem to keep your hands to yourself.” Your jaw slacks at the audacity, but before you have the chance to defend yourself she cuts you off with a giggle. “I can’t say I blame you, though. He is quite handsome, you make such a lovely couple.”

Fire courses through your veins, “We’re not a couple. He was nice, but I honestly don’t think I’m ready for a relationship right now. I don’t have any plans to see him again.”

A few of the girls gasp at your words, whispers erupting from each corner. Rianne’s eyes widen comically, letting out a feigned gasp of her own. “But, you can’t keep waiting forever! Face it dear, you’re not exactly getting any younger.”

You bite down on the tip of your tongue, trying hard to keep from giving her a piece of your mind. Luckily for you, Yeri is there in an instant, hands wrapping daintily around your forearm. “That’s enough, I think.” She reprimands, voice loud enough for everyone at the table to hear over the chatter. Then, she turns to you with a twinkle in her eyes. “Now, who wants dessert?”

The discourse ended just as soon as it began with much gratitude owed to Yeri’s intervention. Now that dessert has been passed around the table and the conversations have taken a better turn, you finally find time to relax. The atmosphere is far lighter, and even Rianne cannot keep from enjoying herself despite her loss. Soon, the attention of the whole table has been gathered, another one of your peers rising to their feet to speak. “As everyone already knows, our very own Yeri is getting married next month!”

The entire room erupts into cheers, Yeri bashfully curling into your side. You remember hearing about that! Her big, shiny engagement ring was the only thing taking up your instagram feed for at least a week. “This is so wonderful,” The same friend gushes. “Let’s hear some more details from the beautiful bride!”

“Well,” The bride-to-be begins, not even bothering to rise to her feet. “The color scheme for my bridesmaids will incorporate the red gowns I have already sent to the group chat.”

“Question, are we allowed to bring a plus one for this event? My fiance is on his way back from France on the private jet as we speak.” One of the ladies interrupts from the opposite end of the table, studying her perfectly manicured nails, trying to bring everyone’s attention to the rock presiding on her ring finger. Shameless. “I need to let him know these things so that he can have his secretary plan accordingly.”

Your eye involuntarily twitches as annoyance courses through your veins at light speed, unsettling your stomach. Of course this was going to be a popularity contest, a dimwitted battle of the dates. What else would it be about? You knew that Yeri came from money, but at least she was humble about it. As for the rest of them, all they care about is their material possessions and comparing the arm candy they’ve managed to secure within the last week. In response to your intense emotions, one of your hands ball up the fabric of your pencil skirt.

Yeri nods in response to her friend’s question, “Yes, plus ones are welcome! Just let me know so we can have enough food for everyone!”

All of the women seem to speak at once, each describing their plans for hair and nails, as well as the various men they’re thinking about inviting to the wedding. You attentively listen in on each of their conversations, trying to gauge where you stand in the midst of it all. To your surprise, it seems as though you’re the only person in turmoil about this. Unlike them, you have no date and you hadn’t even thought about the possibility that you would need one.

Rianne’s voice rises above the chatter, “Yeah, I have a date, too! He’s the sexiest guy in the whole office, everyone wants him, but he wants me.” She boasts, pressing her chest against the table, breasts nearly spilling from her blouse.

Well what do you know, she tricked someone into liking her? Pity. Honestly you couldn’t understand Rianne’s appeal. Sure she’s gorgeous, but when age finally claims her beauty, what will she have left? Certainly it wouldn’t be her winning personality… “--what about you?”

“What?”

“I said,” Rianne sucks her teeth at your inattentiveness. “It seems like everyone here has a date, what about you?” She cuts you off before you’re able to counter her, corners of her mouth downturned with artificial sympathy. “Oh yeah, you’re ‘not ready for a relationship’ right now. That’s okay, someone has to be there to watch the kids, right?”

Oh fuck no. “You’re sorely mistaken. I said I wasn’t ready for a relationship, not that I didn’t have a date.”

Her perfectly arched brows shoot up, “Oh really?”

Your mouth runs dry, but you try your best to keep a neutral expression. “Well, not exactl–”

“Who’s the lucky guy? Do we know him?” She leans in even closer. Any sign of surprise leaves her face, contempt reclaiming her features. It was well known that Rianne had to get the last word in any scuffle, so it was no surprise when she drove you into a corner. Putting words in your mouth to paint you as a charity case.

When your mouth clamps shut at the shame, a crooked smirk makes its way to her face once again. “Thought so.” She clicks her tongue at the last syllable. “You’ve always tended to… hm, how do I say this as nicely as possible?” She tilts her head, thinking hard when she brings a hand to her chin.

“Tend to what?”

“Neglect yourself.” She narrows her eyes at you, giving your visage a once over up and down. “But don’t worry about that, because I’d love to help you with that.”

“And why would you want to do that?” You snide, biting back any curses that threaten to leave your lips.

“Because what else are friends for? I’d hate to have you look anything less than presentable.” She travels from her spot at the table to wrap an arm around you, the suffocating closeness feels like being constricted by a snake. “How about you come with the rest of the girls and I for our next trip to the nail salon? I’ll cover all of your expenses, of course. I know you can get a little... stingy.”

There’s no way in hell you’re going anywhere with her. Not now, not even in a million years. At the mention of a trip to the nail salon, you’re swiftly reminded of a certain someone. Tall, broad, handsome, and offering a discount– at his colleague’s expense of course, but that didn’t matter right now. “No thanks, I’m good.”

Her confusion is apparent, and her hold on you loosens ever so slightly. “Why not?”

Because you would rather drop dead than give her any more ammo. “Because I’ve got an appointment elsewhere.” Shrugging yourself from her arms, you turn to face her and her expression is even better than you’d hoped. Mouth agape, jaw opening and shutting, almost fish-like as she tries to protest. You don’t try to stop the smile creeping up onto your face, “Contrary to belief, I do spoil myself every now and then.”

Never one to back down, she tries to call your bluff. “And just where are you going to get your nails done? There’s no way it could be any better than where we’re going.”

Even if it wasn’t by the grace of Yeri grabbing your attention to try her dessert that had just arrived, you know that you would’ve kept your little sanctuary to yourself. Turning away from the offended Rianne, you regain some semblance of control when you get one over on her. Honestly, a plus one wasn’t your top priority at the moment. Rather your mind drifts to your prospective nail appointment and your chiropractor.

It makes you think– not only did Jeno refer you to the nail technician across the hall from his office, but the complex had a whole hallway of different practices. Thinking about the two little business cards lodged in the folds of your wallet, you’ve yet to encounter even a fraction of the pleasures that they have to offer at Neo Therapy Practitioners.

...

"Hey, it's Jisung again. Thanks for holding.

...Are you still there? Ah, good! Alright, so I've got you all set for your appointment. We look forward to seeing you soon.

Oh? No need to thank us. You know it'll always be our pleasure to serve you."

...click.

——

( authors' note: thank you for taking interest in our collaboration project! be sure to follow the lovely and amazing @mondaycoffee for updates regarding the series.

the general series tag list and member specific tag lists are open! )

#nct smut #nct fanfic #kpop fanfic #jeno smut #yangyang smut #jaemin smut #renjun smut #mark smut #nct 127 #nct dream #wayv #nct u #kpop

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shy-urban-hobbit · 14 days

Text

Have some Aiden & Kid!Jaskier interaction!!

"It's you!"

Aiden turned his attention towards where Jaskier was sat by the fire alongside the wolves, the bard's face a strange mixture of disbelief and elation, as was his scent. Aiden crinkled his nose slightly as he fought back the urge to sneeze or cough at the unfamiliar combination being directed at him.

"Yeah, it's me. Happy to see you too?" Aiden ventured, despite the fact that it couldn't have been more than an hour since they'd last seen each other. Aiden had gone back out into the courtyard after dinner to run some drills, despite the harsh weather, and get rid of the excess energy he could already feel building up. Vesemir was gracious enough to refer to it as 'extra training' and not act like it was a necessity if they all wanted Aiden to avoid getting so restless he literally started climbing the walls.

"No! I mean...I didn't realise before now until I saw you silhouetted like that with your swords and everything, but it's you!"

Aiden suddenly found himself with a limpet of a bard hanging off him, determined to cling despite the rainwater which now soaked both of them.

"Jaskier, I-"

"Oh right. You probably don't remember, what am I saying, of course you don't - Jaskier you fucking idiot. It's been thirty years, no doubt you've lost count of how many humans you've dealt with in the meantime. But-"

"Jaskier." Lambert huffed out from where he was dozing on the fur which acted as a hearth rug, not even bothering to open his eyes, "Let Aiden go dry off and then maybe some context to go with your twittering, Birdie."

By the time Aiden returned, Jaskier's excitement was enough that even the Wolves were giving him their full attention as he re-entered the main hall. Eskel and Geralt's books lay abandoned on a side table while a now awake Lambert was sat leaning against the wall by the hearth. He pulled Aiden down to sit next to him, the fire hot stone through his thick, wool shirt creating a pleasant warmth against his back.

"Alright then." Jaskier started from where he was sat cross legged in one of the old armchairs, leaning forwards as he once again addressed Aiden directly, "Before I start, do you remember anything about a night in Lettenhove thirty years ago. At the Viscount's estate."

Aiden shook his head, although something about this was starting to niggle the back of his mind.

"Name of Panktratz. Little boy, around six years old?" Jaskier continued, eyes growing sadder as it became clear this memory was potentially very one-sided, "Somehow convinced you to-"

He wasn't sure if it was the name or the wide-eyed look the man was throwing him, but Aiden felt something suddenly tumble into place. "Wait, I do remember that night!"

Aiden fought back a growl as he took in the various toys littering the floor, the miniature four poster bed...whose occupant was an even smaller lump under the covers.

That son of a bitch! That slimy twat had hired him to 'take care' of his nephew so he'd be next in line for the title instead, implying the whole time that his relative wasn't exactly deserving of the title. Aiden had accepted the job - what difference did the inner squabblings of Nobility make to him afterall.

In hindsight he probably should have asked more questions but he didn't have a copper coin to his name and this guy had paid upfront; enough for him to be able to eat regularly and maintain his gear for the foreseeable. He started planning after his employer graciously provided him with a blueprint of the estate and pointed out the targets rooms. He'd failed to mention however, that said target looked to be scarcely old enough to wield that wooden sword properly, nevermind any degree of power.

Fuck it. He should stay as far away from this potential mess as possible. It was bad enough when their employers pointed the finger of blame at them when they assassinated an adult, but a child? That was a complication none of them needed. Mind made up, he turned to climb back out of the window (which had been concerningly easy to coax open from the other side), making sure hood and mask were still firmly in place.

"Hello."

Aiden froze. Speaking of complications....

Rookie mistake! He'd been so caught up in everything else he'd forgotten to keep one ear focused on the other heartbeat in the room. He ran through possible scenarios: he could do what he'd been paid to do, but now the kid was awake there was every chance he'd scream and alert the house before Aiden could even lift a finger. Same potential problem if he tried to leave. He could always cast somne...

"You're a Witcher aren't you? I can see the shape of your swords!" Aiden's nose twitched at the boys scent. Strange. Even through the cloth covering the lower half of his face he could tell the boy didn't smell afraid. He smelled excited, happy even?

"I know all about Witchers. You keep us safe from monsters. Is that why you're here, is there a monster in my room?" The small voice turned slightly fretful as a faint whiff of fear started to sour the air - yet more strangeness in the fact that it was due to imagined monsters rather than him.

Aiden dared to turn and look, something about this child's initial boldness piquing his curiousity (who the hell starts questioning a stranger in their room instead of screaming the place down?). A small boy stared back at him with large eyes as he clutched the soft looking sheets to him like a shield as he curled up in the centre of the bed. "My Uncle Desmond says that monsters like to come out at night and eat little boys. I don't like him. He's mean."

Aiden gave a bittersweet smile at the pout he could see on the little face.

'Oh. You have no idea just how mean, kid.' He thought to himself.

"No, no monsters here. Go back to sleep."

The boys pout turned into a frown, "You didn't even look."

"Because I don't need to."

"Please, Mister Witcher." His bottom lip wobbled in a practiced tremble as his eyes grew even bigger.

Aiden bit back another smile. Kid was good, he'd give him that. Such audacity deserved some sort of reward.

"Alright. One very quick monster check, then you go to sleep. Deal?"

The boy nodded enthusiastically, "My name's Julian, by the way."

"I don't care."

"...are you going to tell me yours?"

"No."

"Can I see your swords?"

"No."

"How about your-"

"How about no talking until we make absolutely sure there's nothing waiting in your wardrobe?"

Turns out the only monstrous thing in Julian's wardrobe was a few hideous combinations of frills and lace. Behind the curtains yielded nothing, as did underneath the bed.

"Ok. Now you hold up your end of the deal and go to sleep."

Julian scowled at him in response from where he was now stood up on the feather mattress to watch rather than huddled under the sheets, arms crossed expectantly.

"What?"

"You're supposed to say sweet dreams."

Aiden blinked at him before replying "Sweet dreams." Monotonously.

"Tuck me in?"

Aiden cast the sign for somne, Julian's body flopping down before he'd even finished. Cheeky little fuck would've been wanting a lullaby next. Still, it wouldn't do for him to get cold, there was no fireplace in this room after all. He grabbed the quilt from the bottom of the bed, not bothering to straighten it as it fell haphazardly over the small body before doing what he should have done thirty minutes ago and taking his leave back through the window.

"I told my parents about you the next morning. They didn't believe me of course. Said it was probably just a dream and that if there had been a Witcher in my room I'd be dead. Although, I suppose that explains why my Uncle Desmond looked apoplectic when I came down to breakfast. I never knew he'd hired you to, you know." He flicked a hand across his neck in a throat cutting motion. "Why didn't you by the way? Not that I'm saying I wish you had or anything. I was a human child, you could've killed me multiple times as easily as scratching an itch but you didn't. Why?"

Aiden's features settled into a frown, "Oh trust me, if your Uncle had waited ten more years it probably would've been a very different outcome. As it is, once I had all the facts, I just decided against accepting a contract on a kid. The one who offered me the contract however..."

Jaskiers eyebrows shot up as he shuffled further forwards, "Are you saying you offed my uncle? He did just sort of... disappear."

"Not exactly. I merely broke back in and left evidence of what he'd planned somewhere I knew the current Viscount would find it. What he chose to do with that I had no involvement in. If he just so happened to be on the lookout for an assassin and I was coincidentally still in the area, well...no Witcher is ever going to turn down such well paying jobs so close together."

Jaskier laughed, causing the wolves to look at him in shock, "Oh don't look like that. I didn't learn the extent of it until I was older but besides trying to murder me he was an absolute cock. Definitely not somebody you'd want in charge of anything!"

"The ones that desperate for power usually aren't." Eskel mused, Lambert raised his cup in agreement.

"You know, I'm so happy that Geralt ended up being the Witcher I ran into in Posada. But when I started out from Oxenfurt, I was actually looking for you."

Aiden straightened up in slight surprise, "Why?"

"Because I wanted to do this." Jaskier got down on the floor and once again wrapped his arms around Aiden, the Witcher returning the hug this time.

"Thanks." Jaskier muttered, "For humouring a scared, probably irritating as hell, little boy."

Aiden tightened his hold slightly, "You're welcome, Julian."

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #witcher aiden #witcher jaskier #jaskier #jaskier/aiden friendship #jaskier/aiden

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patentedsun · 16 days

Text

Rapid fire Fairy Tail rewatch thoughts. May or May not expand upon each point later on.

THIS IS LONG AS HELL BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW WHEN TO SHUT UP.

for reference, I've reached tartaros so far. I am aware of the canon happenings after that tho.

The female cast is so good idc what anyone says obviously the fanservice is awful BUT I will say, in the earlier arcs, it actually felt decently balanced because of Gray's whole stripping shtick + Natsu's cunty vest wasn't particularly modest either LOL.

Erza is such a wonderful character. I've seen comments that she goes downhill like 100yq onwards but. Um. 100yq characterisation.... that's a whole post of its own.

I never expected to like Lucy so much. idc that it takes her like 200 episodes to win a fight solo because when she FINALLY DOES IT WAS THE BEST MOMENT OF THE SERIES BY FAR. characters who's defining traits r kindness and compassion <33

Interesting how Lucy is the traditional shounen protag (underdog, skills develop overtime) because the rest of team Natsu sans Wendy were all like ... already kinda OP established mages even at the beginning.

I know there are debates ab who really is the protag and imo the narrative skews towards Natsu more BUT. it's bizarre how unexplored he is for a main character. Like yes he is my favourite character other than Lucy but his inner psyche is barely explored it's so weird. He doesn't really have a character arc either??? I'll expand on this more once I finish post tartaros (lolll not looking forward to that) and once again it seems like he's completely regressed from what I've seen of 100yq.

I fucking love all the ships.

I don't agree with comments that Natsu can't be traditionally romantic. Like, I definitely don't think he would ever have the natural inclination to be that way as a part of his character on its own. BUT considering iconic rainbow sakura moment I fully believe he would do whatever it is that would make Lucy happy. And if that includes red roses and candlelit dinners he would absolutely try his best.

Nalu moments r seriously. so good.

I totally see why Juvia stans don't like gruvia. But unfortunately I like them. And I've slightly rewritten them in my head so that juvia doesn't get completely flanderized LOL.

the Natsu Erza Gray sibling relationship goes soooo hard.

Just in general there's something beautiful about the way Fairy Tail handles it's numerous platonic and romantic relationships. Nothing feels secondary yk. Everything is given its due time (except maybe NALU goddammit).

I LOVE THAT FEMALE CHARACTERS HAVE DEEP COMPLEX RELATIONSHIPS IRRELEVANT TO THE MALE CAST. Lucy and Levy, Lucy and Yukino, whatever combination between Erza Lucy Wendy, Lucy Flare, Wendy Shelia, Wendy Carla etc

Even when the relationship involves a man in some kind of way like eg Lucy Cana or Erza Kagura it's still not like... in a bad way. The friendship itself is still there, it's just that the inciting incident tends to involve a dude.

Speaking of Lucy having so many deep female friendships is a big reason why I like Nalu so much lol. Like I literally do not care ab ships in media but fairy tail.... just has that something...

Love how often everyone changes outfits.

This show desperately needed a mini arc somewhere with just Natsu Lucy Happy going on a low stake job, where Natsu actually opens up ab his emotions and his relationship with Igneel.

Needed more Natsu and Igneel flashbacks in general.

Wendy triple combo abandonment issues are not talked ab enough holy shit. Grandeeny, Mystogan and then her entire guild???!

Lucy's relationship with her dad was objectively so well written. I skipped starry skies arc sorry the pacing was destroying me so I can't speak on that. But everything else was just BEAUTIFUL.

The fact that she returns to him just to tell at him. The fact that he comes to her with money problems and she STILL stands her ground. The fact that it's HIM who has to better himself and earn HER forgiveness.

Even after it seems like they're on ok terms, Lucy mentions in tenrou that they don't keep in contact, which is soo... realistic...

and then his death... Shout-out to Natsu who actually is emotionally quite mature (as the author himself seems to have forgotten) and dealt with it wonderfully. He gave Lucy her space, he let her vent, he stopped Happy from interfering too much. + Lucy being conflicted ab it and clearly grieving what could have been instead of what was. sighhh. .

idc ab no deaths but I do wish they didn't do fake out deaths as often. Because when actual loss sticks, it's done super well imo. Ultear, Aquarius, I haven't hit this part yet but Igneel... (yes I'm ignoring 100yq)

the episodic fillers r INCREDIBLE.

Rogue and Frosch are so special to me.

Wish they expanded on Jellal and Meredy's relationship a bit more it seems quite wholesome.

I love Virgo.

Really hate the muted colours Ft2014 onwards, but I do like that Lucy's hair became blonde and not yellow.

Pacing 2014 onwards was GOD AWFUL. I WAS SO SAD because I think the story beats in eclipse arc is actually super good but it was DRAGGED OUT SO MUCH nothing had the impact it should've.

Snow fairy, FT, Masayume chasing you will never be forgotten.

Lucy underutilizes Gemini so much it drives me mad. They were terrifying under Angel so like... cmon...

idc what anyone says GMG and edolas were top tier.

Edolas Natsu X Edolas Lucy... yes

objectively speaking gajeel is a top tier character too

Someone pointed out that Natsu didn't reallyyy hang out with anyone other than Happy pre canon and it changed my life. Every time I notice him and Lucy casually hanging out now I start screaming.

HAPPY IS SUCH A GOOD CHARACTER IDC. His edolas character arc was incredible, his relationship with Lucy is just as (if not more) fleshed out as his one with Natsu and that's part of what makes them such a great trio.

Whenever he goes LUUSSHIEEE . my heart ...

OST top tier no notes

the writing was actually so tight up until GMG part 2

I generally don't care ab the powerscaling issues but laxus v jura... no.

The anime kinda fucks up his face a lot but manga Natsu was genuinely soooo adorable in every single panel (once again IGNORING 100YQ).

Wendy also great character arc.

Sting's whole design is SO GOOD and ten years too early. the fur lined vest, the crop top, the one dangly earring, the scar, the loose fitting pants, good God now that's a Look.

Seriously I love Nalu so much...

That's all for now folks. If you want me to expand upon anything just lmk bec believe it or not all of this is a summary.

#fairy tail #natsu #natsu dragneel #natsu appreciation #lucy heartfilia #nalu #pro nalu #seriously i can write an essay ab each of these points #lucy heartfilia appreciation

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jbaileyfansite · 3 months

Text

Interview with Interview Magazine (2024)

Before he was known as the dashing Lord Anthony Bridgerton or Tim Laughlin, the character in Fellow Travelers for which he won a Critics Choice Award earlier this month, Jonathan Bailey caught the attention of Phoebe Waller-Bridge with his confident, self-possessed audition for her show Crashing nearly a decade ago. “You came in like a fireball,” said the Fleabag star on Zoom with Bailey, recounting how, while reading for the role of the sex-obsessed Sam, Bailey asked permission to lay his script out on the floor in front of him like a rainbow. “You had no embarrassment. You didn’t actually refer to it again, but you took those few seconds to just completely set up what you exactly needed for that audition, and then you were so free.” In the years since, with roles in Bridgerton, the Showtime drama Fellow Travelers, and the upcoming Wicked movie adaptation, Bailey has become one of the most sought-after actors in the business, capable of generating sparks with whoever’s on screen with him. Waller-Bridge attributes this to the 35-year-old’s distinct understanding of tension. “You’re like a chemistry machine,” she gushed. “There’s this incredible erotic energy that people are so excited about.” Last week, from a hotel room at Claridge’s in London, Bailey talked to Waller-Bridge about longing, orgasms, frosted tips, nostalgia, Shakespeare, and his very first role: playing a raindrop in a stage production of Noah’s Ark.

PHOEBE WALLER-BRIDGE: Hi.

JONATHAN BAILEY: Hi.

WALLER-BRIDGE: I’m taking my glasses off. Now I can be real.

BAILEY: I’ve just had a gin and tonic, actually. I had a meeting and he really wanted a glass of Whispering Angel, so I was like, “Well, I’ve got to dive in.”

WALLER-BRIDGE: What’s the time there?

BAILEY: Oh, I’m literally around the corner from you. Literally, I’ve come into Claridge’s Hotel and checked in for an hour just to have a Zoom.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Oh, god. That’s so chic. Jonny, I want all of your secrets.

BAILEY: I feel like you’ve got quite a few of them already.

WALLER-BRIDGE: I do, actually. And we’re not going to talk about any of those. But I did also get to do a little bit of research on you.

BAILEY: Oh, god. What have you got?

WALLER-BRIDGE: Jonathan Stewart Bailey, I’d like to jump straight in with the fact that the first professional job you had was playing a teardrop, or a raindrop?

BAILEY: There were teardrops, but yeah, I was playing a raindrop.

WALLER-BRIDGE: You were a crying raindrop.

BAILEY: A crying raindrop in Noah’s Ark.

WALLER-BRIDGE: And how old were you then?

BAILEY: I think I was about 5 going on 29. I was really upset because it didn’t rain. The bitch that played Noah, she forgot the cue for the rain to come. So my dance didn’t make it, but at the end of the show they allowed me to do it once everyone had applauded.

WALLER-BRIDGE: I asked you that specifically because you’ve also said that your grandmother took you to see a production of Oliver in London and that’s what changed everything.

BAILEY: Yes.

WALLER-BRIDGE: So was the raindrop before or after that? I am getting to something, I promise.

BAILEY: I think it was probably afterwards. I was really young when I went to see Oliver.

WALLER-BRIDGE: I’m interested because I read that seeing it made you decide you wanted to perform. Can you tell me the specific thing that made it click?

BAILEY: I’ll tell you, the most bizarre thing is that I had three seasons at the RSC under my belt by the age of nine. There was a moment where I played Prince Arthur, the kid in Shakespeare who gets his eyes gouged out and has to escape a turret. I remember doing that production and thinking I was aware of the power of words, if that makes sense. You’re so porous at that age, I think. It is such a gift, isn’t it, to be shown what iambic pentameter is.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Do you still feel passionate about Shakespeare now?

BAILEY: I do, actually. It’s my dirty, filthy habit.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Your dirty little habit. I know what you mean, though, how if you come to it quite raw, and it’s not something that you’ve had shoved down your throat at school, there is nothing more epic and spectacular.

BAILEY: And being around people who are just so committed to their vocation, whether they’re writing or creating. The smell backstage at the RSC at the Barbican was like cigarettes, stage makeup, Joe Fiennes, and hope.

WALLER-BRIDGE: That’s a lot of beautiful smells you’ve got going on there.

BAILEY: I know. Talk about top notes and bottom notes. I was like, “These men, these titans of theater!”

WALLER-BRIDGE: That’s extraordinary that you were exposed to that kind of level of professionalism. Because you are consummately professional, and I remember that. You have this incredible ability to be completely live and spontaneous and wild at the same time as being so incredibly professional, and that’s why working with you felt totally safe. I know that I’ve got a professional actor coming today, but I have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen because you still managed to keep that spontaneity and danger.

BAILEY: I suppose it’s sometimes dangerous. Today I had to do an interview. Crashing came up and I described working with you as being on the constant edge of an orgasm and also hysteria.

WALLER-BRIDGE: It did have a kind of wild, beautiful energy.

BAILEY: There’s a chemical alchemy when you get the right group of people led by the right people.

WALLER-BRIDGE: I haven’t had that in quite the same way since, where everyone has equal importance in the story. That’s the thing that feels quite rare, actually, there’s like six of you and they’re all as fucked up as each other. I remember your audition. You came in like a fireball and you already felt like you had a Sam energy. You sat in your chair, took out your script from your bag, and then you were like, “Give me a second,” and you laid out your script around you on the floor. You had no embarrassment about what you needed or in front of you. You didn’t actually refer to it again, but you took those few seconds to just completely set up what you exactly needed for that audition, and then you were so free. And I just wonder if you’ve felt that particular type of confidence your whole life?

BAILEY: That’s a really good question. I’ve got three older sisters and I wonder if they are a structure. I’ve definitely been in environments where I don’t feel free, and then you give the worst performance of your life. What I’ve found in the last few years is that, of course, you have to adapt so quickly to work out what you need in order to be able to be free. I think if I don’t have the equivalent of that on the floor, I panic or get really scared.

WALLER-BRIDGE: There’s something about that, which is being able to play dangerously in a safe environment. I feel like that’s got so much to do with an understanding of tension, which I think you have. You’re like a chemistry machine. Obviously, with Bridgerton and then in Fellow Travelers, there’s this incredible erotic energy that people are so excited about.

BAILEY: I really think it comes from Crashing.

WALLER-BRIDGE: It doesn’t come from Crashing, it comes from you. I think you’re the king of tension. I think you understand what that is.

BAILEY: I think you can give yourself butterflies, can’t you?

WALLER-BRIDGE: Is that what you’re looking for, the butterfly all the time?

BAILEY: Yeah, I’m always looking for my butterfly farm. The misty, slightly smelly greenhouse full of butterflies.

WALLER-BRIDGE: That’s your tummy?

BAILEY: Yeah, that’s my tummy.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Did you always dream of playing leading man roles growing up?

BAILEY: Not at all, no. I never thought I would be able to.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Why?

BAILEY: I’ve realized that I’m completely in awe of other people and performances and creative endeavors. I go to the theater and I love a performance and I’m like, “How do they do that? I can’t see the seams.” So therefore, I feel like I must be driven by that. And when something comes my way, there’s a fear that it won’t work.

WALLER-BRIDGE: What’s really exciting to me is when I see palpable dynamics between characters, which you have done multiple times, like the relationship between Tim and Hawk. There’s so much opportunity for intimacy and that kind of danger. And when you get to play those sorts of roles, when you know that you can stand in front of each other and you don’t really need to do anything because it’s giving you something, it must’ve just been a joy walking into this world because it’s like a banquet of stuff to play with, right?

BAILEY: Totally, and it feels sort of vital and sexy. I do remember this one memory, which I guess I’ll share with you now. I did play and there was a tiled wall,at eye level with a mirrored border around. And there was a guy, we were into each other, and I remember just looking up in the middle of a conversation and he was looking at me in a reflection. And I was like, “This is what life is about.” Anyway, I think that it must have something to do with feeling the most alive in that.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Do you know Esther Perel?

BAILEY: Yeah, I love Esther Perel.

WALLER-BRIDGE: So she’s written about how she believes that your next orgasm begins at the very end of your last one, which is basically our whole life just building up to our next orgasm.

BAILEY: That’s just fantastic. It’s just so positive and hopeful—

WALLER-BRIDGE: And so beautiful, isn’t it?

BAILEY: It is.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Everything that you encounter in your life, every conversation that you have, is in some way building up to the next euphoric physical experience. Every single character has to have that inside them one way or another, because every human does. And I think with Fellow Travelers, because you long for them so much as an audience and you want them to have everything that they want from each other, but they’re also brutal to themselves and to each other, there is something so extraordinary seeing characters in that time portrayed in the way that you guys have portrayed them.

BAILEY: One thing that we’re all born with is the sense of longing. Longing comes before anything else, doesn’t it? Whoever you put on the wall, laminate the poster or whatever, it’s there. And actually, if you long for someone, more often than not you don’t think you are worthy of it. And that, to me, is a way into characters.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Do you remember your laminated poster longing person?

BAILEY: I think I had the Simpsons, which was obviously me trying to disguise myself as much as possible. Lucy Liu was a big one for me, too.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Well, I can see that.

BAILEY: I suppose there’s the laminated wall in my literal bedroom and then there’s the laminated wall in my gay—

WALLER-BRIDGE: Mind.

BAILEY: Who was yours?

WALLER-BRIDGE: You know what? It’s really interesting, because I was the eagle in the Rescuers Down Under. That wasn’t necessarily a sexual longing, but it was a romantic idea, that overwhelming sense of watching the Rescuers Down Under and being able to run out of the back of my house on my own, age 10, and jump onto the back of a giant eagle and he’ll fly me around. But in terms of just a hottie that I really fancied, I think it was probably Leo [DiCaprio].

BAILEY: Oh, yeah.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Are you a nostalgic person?

BAILEY: Yes, I think so. I think a lot about my younger self. I’m always like, “Guys, remember this?” It’s slightly annoying, but I’m always drawing a line between the past and now for sure.

WALLER-BRIDGE: That’s how you measure your life, by remembering the time that’s gone by or what 11-year-old you would think of what you were doing?

BAILEY: I think I’m probably more romantic than nostalgic, if that makes sense.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Go on.

BAILEY: Well, I just think I’ve fully committed to the idea of everything being brilliant and then I work backwards from there.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Well, having starred in two hit period dramas and also being a huge part of the fact that they are a hit, that’s why I wondered about what your relationship is with the past and history, and how much you actually knew about McCarthy America?

BAILEY: Oh, no. Have you got a quiz?

WALLER-BRIDGE: I actually don’t. Do you want one?

BAILEY: No, that would be the worst.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Do you enjoy historical novels? Do you live in the past in any way in your mind? Or you are kind of like, “We’re here and we’re moving forward?”

BAILEY: I do think I’m here and moving forward. I really struggled with history at school, I could not take in information about the past. When it came to exams, I would remember the page where things were written but I couldn’t stitch together epochs and eras and kings.

WALLER-BRIDGE: It crashes my brain, too. I have a friend, and you can say to her, “June 24th, 1999,” and she can tell you pretty much what she was up to.

BAILEY: That’s amazing.

WALLER-BRIDGE: You can see her go into the diary in her mind. She has a very different wiring of her brain. But speaking of longing, are there any fictional or real life couples, gay or straight, that captured your heart over the years?

BAILEY: Oh my god, what a question. What about Michelle Williams and Ryan Gosling in Blue Valentine?

WALLER-BRIDGE: I think Morticia and Gomez Addams were the most romantic couple.

BAILEY: Yeah, I see that.

WALLER-BRIDGE: They understood it. They got it all.

BAILEY: Also maybe Ryan and Marissa in The OC.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Any gay male couples that you ever looked up to or were romanced by?

BAILEY: Well unfortunately, there just weren’t that many were there growing up.

WALLER-BRIDGE: So wild.

BAILEY: But I met Matthew Rhys recently, who I just love. And I was thinking about that relationship in Brothers and Sisters. And then there was Queer as Folk. Russell, T. Davies changed the game. So many people owe so much to him just purely for visibility. There is no Tim and Hawk to a 2023 audience without Queer as Folk.

WALLER-BRIDGE: But did you feel frustrated?

BAILEY: Well, speaking of history, I was doing media studies with an amazing teacher and I decided that I was going to do my dissertation about the representations of Hutus and Tutsis and the Rwanda genocide, looking at Hotel Rwanda and Shooting Dogs. And then Brokeback Mountain came out and I was like, “Hang on, how can I possibly create a world where I can go and have a free pass to go to the cinema to watch it 10 times?” I’m really proud of my 17-year-old self, I wasn’t necessarily out, but I changed the topic to representation of homosexuality in Brokeback Mountain and I watched that film 10 times. And this amazing teacher, Dr. Brunton, who probably had an idea of what was going on, was just like, “This is brilliant, keep going, keep going.” And I think it was the best mark I ever got.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Do you still have it?

BAILEY: It must be on a hard drive upstairs in the attic. And obviously, that completely changed me, something chemical happened there. But it’s funny, I’m not clear on memories. And I do think it’s a common thing for a lot of people, growing up and having to survive and be basically in fight or flight, there’s a murkiness to how I recall.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Of course, because you couldn’t be truly present because you weren’t being completely yourself.

BAILEY: Totally, yeah.

WALLER-BRIDGE: When you look back and start unpacking it, do you feel overwhelmed with sympathy for how hard you were having to work as a 16-year-old, coming up with excuses to see the movie that you wanted to see?

BAILEY: Yeah. But I spent more time trying to be sympathetic towards the people that were around me who didn’t support or couldn’t help. I look back and I go, “Hell.”

WALLER-BRIDGE: Yes. But you are representing that and living that for so many people now. Your speech at the Critics Choice Awards the other day was so sublime and beautiful and straight from the heart. You are so electric as a human being and that is the most important thing. There aren’t many people in the world that can do that, that can stand there in front of people and speak from their heart about what it means to them to be given this opportunity. And I know that your career is just going to be the most extraordinary journey. When I first met you, I remember sitting with Josh [Cole], who was the producer on Crashing, and we were like, “If we get this guy, it’s going to be the game changer for the show.” And I know that every single person now wanting you on their project is feeling the same thing.

BAILEY: I definitely feel overwhelmed by that, but it’s lovely to hear.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Can I just ask you one question which I couldn’t remember about Crashing?

BAILEY: Yeah.

WALLER-BRIDGE: The frosted tips were your idea, wasn’t it?

BAILEY: I had this conversation today. I think it’s in the script. But my reference picture was Justin Timberlake in double denim.

WALLER-BRIDGE: No, I don’t think it was [in the script], because Sam’s a character that I hold closest to my heart because, in so many ways, he represents how I feel about maybe my inner life. I just love him so much, and your ability to play every single little corner of him that I dreamed of.

BAILEY: Maybe that’s the answer I was looking for when you asked if I was drawn to any romantic couples? No, it was just about wanting bleach blonde hair.

Source

#jonathan bailey #phoebe waller bridge #jonny bailey #interviews #interviews:2024 #interview magazine #interview magazine interview #fellow travelers #crashing #NEW!

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sgiandubh · 5 months

Note

People have opinions about kids, etc great state opinions, but when they post as absolute facts is the problem accompanied by fake voices on videos and blurred pix, that's a problem. Making up lies as facts are the problem. Denigrating Cait and or Sam or worse their families members because you have no real proof is wrong and goes beyond having a peaceful opinion.

Dear Opinion Anon,

First, our traditional spelling bee, because you people still did not learn how to write properly, ok?

People have opinions about kids, etc. great Great: state opinions, but when they post as absolute facts is the problem, accompanied by fake voices on videos and blurred pix, that's a problem. Making up lies as facts are is the problem. Denigrating Cait and/or Sam, or worse, their families' members, because you have no real proof, is wrong and goes beyond having a peaceful opinion.

Look at you, little fascist who knows nothing about the subject-verb agreement in English grammar! Being told what is right and what is wrong by someone clearly unable to properly read and write does not help, pumpkins. Send in your green berets, next time, please: this is way past boring!

I always said I shall speak only for myself on this page. So I am asking you:

Where did you see that particular video on this blog?

Where did you see those funeral pics on this blog? Let alone I explained why I never posted them and you bunch of coward liars all cackled. At length.

Where did I insult Sam's family members on this blog?

Where did I insult Cait's family members on this blog?

When and where did I stalk Sam, Cait or their entourage, unlike one of your queens?

And the question summing them all up:

Do you have a problem with freedom of speech in general?

People post whatever they want to post. They do not need me or you or Moo or *urv or Marple to tell them what to think or post. It is their constitutional right. This is not North Korea: this is an immaterial, almost completely deregulated space, where the demand for information meets the available offer via clicks, shares and comments. Other information is traded in DMs, Telegram groups and other outlets.

Have I made myself clear?

I'll tell you what. You are at once very nervous, curious and afraid of the whole bunch of things we collectively know. You still cannot understand how and why we are still here. You are perplexed by the number of intelligent professionals that are actively debunking all the shite you post regularly. You are upset by the fact real, strong friendships exist in here: something perhaps unheard of in your halls of gloom. And we elicit this reaction only based upon roughly 10 to 15% of the whole content in our, again collective, possession. If you knew all we know, your brain couldn't take it, duckie.

And then I know something else:

No shipper, ever, phoned an employer of an Anti to explain their employee was on Tumblr instead of doing their job.

No shipper, ever, phoned resorts, hotels or airline offices around the world in an attempt to find out where S, C, their progeny or other side players were, at a given moment in time.

No shipper, ever, used their own contacts' network to send false messages about the other side of the fandom war to the two leads, STARZ or the OL production team.

No shipper, ever, sent heinous comments on Anti blogs.

No shipper, ever, harassed Twitter and Instagram posters with endless questions about the time, place and people present at a randomly given event.

No shipper, ever, mounted via sock accounts a whole denigration and calumny campaign on Twitter when one of the leads was involved in a PR blunder.

No shipper, ever, used sexually loaded vocabulary to express 'appreciation' for the actors' work.

No shipper, ever, went on Wikipedia to repeatedly edit the male lead's dedicated page in order to include false sexual orientation reference, which then was screencapped and used as 'evidence' in subsequent flaming wars.

And many more...

You know, people have criticized me for even answering you. But answer you I shall, every time I shall think a reminder is necessary. I think shippers have turned the other cheek for way longer than they should have: a strategic choice that gave you both space and confidence. That you all went in a frenzy just before Christmas tells me perhaps more than you'd think about the kind of people you really are.

I am done with you. Don't bother coming back - you will be immediately blocked: you, your terrible grammar and your impertinence.

#anon #fandom

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bedazzlecunt · 13 days

Text

i get sooo many asks and DMs asking for tips on how to get better at edging so i wanted to make an actual post about how i turned myself into a total edgeslut — and how you can, too! there's really only one main 'rule' to follow while you're learning how to edge, so i promise you can do it! this info should still be applicable regardless of your particular genitalia, but i mostly reference cunts because that's what i've got.

the one rule!

my ultimate suggestion for people who are new to edging and finding it almost impossible is to STOP TRYING TO EDGE. some of you are going like that's crazy edging is all i want to do! but listen to me. listen to me. we are going to get you there.

if horniness is a scale of one to ten, with one being 'not horny at all' and ten being 'orgasming' the ideal edging situation is that you get to a nine and then stop. that's really hard to do, though! but you could probably get to a four and stop, right? pretty easily, even.

that's what you want to do. figure out that highest number on that scale you can go and still stop, and go to that number. do this a lot. i love, love, LOVE touching like this, even now that i am a pro at edging, because there's zero risk of going over and it's still a great tool to keep you horny / submissive / feeling hot as hell / whatever it is you want to get out of edging.

start at bringing yourself to a four and then stop. once you've mastered that, once that feels almost too easy, move up to a five. then a six. seven. i encourage you not to cum at all while you're doing this, but also, i'm not your dom! do what you want! the point is you're touching-without-cumming a lot (which is great practice all on it's own) and you're acclimating your body to getting horny, sometimes even REALLY horny, without actually cumming every time it happens.

doing this regularly also has the pleasant side-effect keeping you aroused more often than not. if you're constantly bringing yourself to level seven horniness and then stopping, you are almost never going to drop below level three. you are going to be turned on a LOT, which feels sooooo good. which leads to...

getting addicted*!

the thing about being always horny, about touching yourself all the time, about never cumming, is that it feels really, really good. people wouldn't do denial if it didn't! and once you've had a month or so of touching-but-not-edging and your body's adjusted to the sense of being constantly turned on and how good it feels, it gets to a point where cumming is a lot less appealing. you know it's going to take away the good, horny, happy feeling that you're getting addicted to! once you've come to really, really enjoy being constantly horny, and come to associate the idea of cumming with losing that good feeling, that makes it a lot easier to keep from going over as you creep up to higher levels like eight and nine. and even when you do go over, the fact that you'll lose the sensation that you've come to enjoy so much will just reinforce for you that it's better not to cum!

*i'm using addicted as a fun little hyperbole word here, but i do want to add the disclaimer that if your edging / horniness / etc. starts to interfere with your life like a real addiction then you gotta stop that before you hurt yourself. do not actually jeopardize your job/relationships/etc. for kink.

edging!

by this point, you'll have lots of practice at masturbating without going over and you'll be addicted to the feeling of being constantly turned on — and you'll dread the thought of losing that feeling. those things combined are the peak edging scenario. this is the point when you can start trying to edge seriously; bringing yourself to a nine on our horny scale and stopping.

you will probably still go over occasionally as you figure out your actual limits — don't be angry at yourself for this, but do refrain from trying to edge again on days you go over. the last thing you want is to reacclimate your body to coming regularly. if you try to edge in the morning but go over by mistake, just bring yourself to a level eight for the rest of the times you masturbate and try again tomorrow. eventually, you'll know your limits, be addicted to the feeling of being edged, and be really practiced at doing it!

if you're still having trouble or just want to play in new ways, then find out what turns you on but you can't orgasm from. your nipples are sensitive enough to break your brain but you can't orgasm just from that? well then get to playing with them, dummy! love penetration but can't come from it without clit stimulation? tape off your clit and get fucking! i can never cum just from humping a pillow or grinding on something, so grinding is a great way for me to edge! try to find stuff that makes you really, really horny but that you can't orgasm from and really lean into those things!

#im so serious abt not jeoporadizing ur life for this. like #if u cant still go out w ur besties and to work and be normal then thats not good #u must continue 2 have a life outside of ur edging kink #BUT!!!!!!! once u find the balance...its fun #edgeslut #nsft #sub nsft #bi nsft #wren speaking!#bd/sm blog #bd/sm kink #3dging

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queenshelby · 11 months

Text

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART SIX: HELP

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Mentions of Depression, Anxiety

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

You glanced at the photos for a while and the read the messages, over and over again. Some of them were kind and some of them were outright horrible.

For example, the woman who once was your friend messaged you as well and her messages simply stunned you. Lorraine criticised your looks and the sheer fact that you had allowed James to take photos of you like this while, the truth was, that you did not. You never consented to him taking nude photographs of you and you never consented to him publishing those images either.

Lorraine and some of the other girls from your class were now conspiring against you and, when you called Emma and told her about it, she told you not to worry about those “superficial bitches”…

Emma, of course, stood by your side and asked you whether you were coping alright with her being away. She wanted to come home from her trip to Cork but you told her not to. She had recently started a new job and this was a massive opportunity for her. Thus, you assured her that you were fine, even though you were not.

Then, just as tears began to run down your face once more, your phone went off again, but this time it wasn’t one of your so-called friends who contacted you. It was James and James was furious about you having broken up with him again, this time more publicly than before.

“Now, at least everyone can see what you really are” was what the message said and you could not help but type up a fiery response before deleting it again.

You knew that he had other pictures of you and you certainly did not want him to share them as well.

“And what am I, James? What am I for you to do this to me?” you thus simply asked and his response shocked you.

“A whore is what you are” was what came back before he referred to the fact that you slept with another man shortly after you ended it with him the last time around and, yet, he wouldn’t leave it at that.

He called you many names that day and made fun of the fact that, on occasion, you had worked at a strip club.

“You’ve showed your tits to many men over the years when you worked as a stripper, so don’t tell me that this little picture I’ve shared with our dear friends really bothers you” were his final words before, finally, you blocked his number.

There was no point arguing with him. There was no point explaining to him, again, that you did what you did to pay your bills. And, there was also absolutely no point telling him again that there was a fine line between your work and the services other women in the industry were providing to their clients.

He was right though. You made some mistakes as, back in Chicago, which is where you migrated to as a ten-year-old orphan, you worked at a strip club for a while. You had just turned eighteen when you took up this somewhat controversial dancing gig and it paid well. But, you never slept you’re your clients and you always refused to provide so called one on one services. All you did was to perform on stage and, at least at the time, you felt good about yourself whereas now, you did not.

Now, James and the others were criticising you and your appearances. In particular, your choice of clothing bothered him and he always pointed out to you that you should be making more of an effort for your boyfriend rather than walking around in second hand clothes.

According to him, you looked cheap and the fact that he now exposed you by sharing this nude photograph of you made your self-esteem drop even more. Every part of you was at least somewhat visible in this photograph and there was no filter on what he had sent out. No make up. No coverage. Absolutely nothing.

Embarrassed with yourself, you called in sick for work that day and you also did not turn up at drama school, let alone your one-on-one session with Cillian that evening.

You simply stayed at home until, at around 6 o’clock, someone knocked on your door and, to your surprise, when you opened it, you were greeted by an elderly lady.

The lady’s name was Siobhan and she lived downstairs. In her hand, she held an envelope that was handed to her by a young man who fitted James’s description and, inside the envelope, there was a copy of the very same photograph that he had shared on social media.

“You should be more careful about with whom you liaise, Love. The man who handed this to me seemed nice at first, but then he asked me whether I had a key to your apartment to which, of course, I said no” the woman then said as she handed you the envelope and picture.

“Oh my god” you gasped, not knowing what else to say as shivers began to run down your spine.

“He gave one of these envelopes to each of the residents and Mrs O’Connell was rather outraged when she opened it. Her husband, on the other hand, was quite impressed and I can assure you that she disposed of the photograph very quickly” the woman then explained and you immediately began to feel anxious.

“I am so sorry” you told her nonetheless but an apology was not what this woman was after.

“Don’t be sorry Love. I am not offended. I am just telling you to be careful. You should go to the police and stay with someone who you can trust. This man might come back and this neighbourhood is not exactly safe to begin with” the woman then said before pointing towards the fire stairs which were leading directly to your balcony, causing you to realise that she was right. Anyone could break in to your apartment quite easily and, after having conducted this envelope drop, you did not quite know what else James may be capable of.

With that in mind, you thanked your neighbour from downstairs and reached for your wallet and phone. You felt anxious and afraid and, even though you knew that you should be going straight to the police, you did not think that they could really do anything.

You have heard of things like this in the past and even if you took out a restraining order against James, he would probably just breach it anyway. Despite, he hasn’t made a violent threat against you yet and this meant that even the police’s hands may be tied. All that James wanted to do was to embarrass you and torture you with this form of emotional abuse because you had broken up with him and caused him to be expelled from drama school. But that was it. He did not threaten to hurt or let alone kill you and, yet, you were frightened and scared. Thus, you listened to your neighbour and left your unit before rushing to catch the Dart into town before it was getting dark.

You felt as though you needed to breathe but you also had no idea where to go and the fact that it was raining heavily did not help you to make a decision either. You had no umbrella with you and knew that you needed shelter.

You could go to a café for a bit until it stopped raining or you could go and see one of your friends but, then, you realised that you had no true friends other than Emma and Emma was in Cork.

You had literally n nowhere to go and you most certainly did not have enough money to stay at a hotel for the night which is when it hit you. There was one person to whom you could go without having to worry about James finding out about it and this person was your lecturer, Cillian.

But, going to Cillian’s place worried you and, if you would not have lacked other options, you would have avoided bothering him with your issues.

After what happened between you a few weeks ago, you wanted to keep your distance from him especially since you still felt attracted towards him, but keeping a distance from the only person who seemingly cared about your wellbeing was not an option now.

You needed help and you most certainly needed a place to stay after what your neighbour had told you.

An hour later…

When you arrived at Cillian’s apartment building you realised that he was not home and decided to wait. You were still anxious and afraid and a thousand emotions flew through your head as you sat down inside the cold lobby of the building.

You were wondering about what Cillian may be thinking about you now seeing that, just maybe, he too had seen this somewhat unflattering picture of you and you knew that you were not ready for a confrontation about it from him.

Would he be giving you a lecture, you wondered? Or would he be angry at you for rocking up at his apartment unannounced? Should you maybe have called him first? You had no credit on your phone now that you kept on checking your social media messages nonstop. Perhaps you could ask the doorman if you could use his phone? But then you realised that you did not even have Cillian’s mobile phone number, so how could you possibly have called him? Maybe the doorman had his number?

In the end though, you just sat down and cried. You were a mess and were anxiously waiting for almost half an hour before, finally, Cillian arrived and entered the building.

At first, he did not see you there, but then when he walked towards the elevator, he spotted you sitting in front of it, wearing completely wet clothes.

You were shivering and crying while still starring at your phone in disbelieve.

“Jesus, Y/N! What happened to you? Are you okay?” Cillian immediately asked when he saw you there, causing you to drop your phone in surprise. You were so consumed in your own thoughts that you had not even noticed him either.

“Y/N, hey! Talk to me” Cillian then said again as he sat down by your side and, just as he did, there was a moment that passed where you swallowed hard and bit your lip. It was almost like you could not talk through your tears.

“Y/N?” Cillian asked again as he took off his jacket and wrapped it around you, seeing that you were rather cold from the rain.

“I am not okay Cillian. I am done. I just want to quit and go back to the US. I am fucking over it” you blurted out, making no sense at all.

“Well, you cannot just quit. You are too fucking good at what you do. You have so much potential” Cillian said in a comforting way as he gave you a gentle hug. “Tell me what happened and, maybe, I can help you mend the situation?” he then queried as his warm body held you in a caring kind of way and, even though you were slowly calming down, you were not quite ready to talk with him about the picture just yet.

“I am sorry. I shouldn’t have come here” you then said but Cillian shook his head.

“No. It’s fine. Come on, let’s go upstairs and get you dried off. You will catch cold if you stay down here like this” Cillian then suggested before standing up and holding out his hand for you.

“Okay, but I don’t want to be a burden” you murmured before taking his hand.

“You are not” he told you reassuringly after he pulled you up from your seat and, with that, you followed him to the elevator.

Silently, you then made your way to Cillian’s apartment and, even after you finally arrived inside his rather warm unit, you were still shivering.

“I will find you some clothes to wear and put these in to the dryer for you, alright?” Cillian suggested and you nodded before taking off his jacket and then handing him your soaking wet jumper.

Just as you were handing your jumper to him though, his hands brushed against yours and he was surprised by how cold your skin felt. It was much worse than he had anticipated and he knew that you needed to warm up quickly.

“Your hands are freezing cold Y/N. You are going to get sick. Do you want to tell me what happened for you to end up like this?” Cillian then queried with great concern but you shook your head.

“I got caught in the rain” you then simply murmured in response and Cillian furrowed his eyebrows.

“Without a jacket?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yeah. I just left my apartment in a hurry” you explained but he wanted to know why.

“Because of James, he…I…I can’t…” you stammered, trying to explain the situation, but failing to do so miserably.

“I can’t help you unless you tell me what happened Y/N” Cillian thus told you while gently caressing your cold cheeks.

“I just…I am not sure how to explain this all to you Cillian. I am embarrassed about it all and I am scared…I am…” you then stammered before breaking out in tears again, causing Cillian to hush and calm you down

“Hey! Listen, whatever it is, it will be alright, okay? I will help you” he reassured you before taking you inti his arms and you cried some more, right against his white t-shirt.

“Thank you” you said while calming down again and, just after you did, Cillian made a suggestion on how to proceed.

“How about you have a bath to warm yourself up. I will get you some fresh clothes and a glass of wine. You can calm down first and then we can talk if you still want to talk. Does that sound good?” he asked and you nodded in agreement.

“Yes, actually. That sounds really good” you told him and a smile even formed on your lips.

With that, Cillian was quick to disappear in order to find you a fresh towel and some clothes while you found your way to his bathroom.

Since the night you had shared with each other a few weeks ago, you knew his apartment well enough to know where everything was and, just after you got undressed, he knocked on the door.

“Come in. It’s fine” you told him after quickly wrapping his towel around you which, to your delight, smelled like him too but, when Cillian entered the bathroom, he did not expect to see you half naked.

“I am not looking” he thus said, blushing, causing you to laugh.

“You have seen me naked before Cillian. Despite, your towel covers my boobs and my arse, so…” you began to say but Cillian still could not bear to look at you and interrupted your sentence.

“Yeah, uhm…let me know if you need anything” he thus said quickly before disappearing again and, just as he shut the bathroom door behind him, he felt rather guilty as now he was thinking about you, laying there, in his bathtub, completely naked.

***

Unfortunatly or fortunately though, Cillian’s thoughts about you were interrupted rather quickly as, suddenly, his phone began to ring and, much to his despair, it was his ex-wife Danielle who was on the other line.

Usually, Cillian tried to avoid talking to her at all costs now that she withheld contact to their children again, but since his daughter was having a rough time at school, he knew that he needed to pick up the phone.

“What’s up?” he thus asked, gaging the situation and, much to his surprise, he was greeted with a rather unconventional answer.

“Seriously? What’s up?” Danielle spat before taring right into him again. “My nanny just told me that you picked Nina up from school today and this wasn’t something that was agreed with me” Danielle began to yell, causing Cillian to sigh.

“Yes, Danielle! I picked Nina up from school today because the school rang me and told me that she wasn’t feeling well and that they couldn’t get in contact with you. Despite, Nina did not want to go home and hang out with your nanny, so I texted her and told her that she is with me. I could not get in contact with you either so check your phone” Cillian explained but Danielle started yelling again.

“You had no right to pick her up. You know the rules, Cillian!” Danielle spat but Cillian was getting rather frustrated himself.

“The rules that you made for us and that you keep changing every time you see fit?” Cillian asked before raising his voice. “Yes, I know these rules but I also know that I am entitled to see my children Danielle” he went on to say before his ex-wife told him that he could not see his children over the weekend.

“And why is that?” Cillian then asked angrily, but Danielle simply yelled at him again.

“Because I call the shots, Cillian. You left us and this is what you get for leaving us” Danielle pointed out but Cillian saw no reason in this.

“I left you, Danielle. I did not leave my children. You are taking them away from me and this is why I filed for an intervention order. I am fucking sick of this. You are hurting our children; don’t you realise that? They need routine and two parents who are engaged in their lives, not a fucking a nanny” Cillian then explained with anger, causing his ex-wife to hang up on him again just before you walked into the room.

***

“Trouble with the ex?” you asked, having overheard some of the conversation from inside Cillian’s bathroom and, since you knew that he had recently separated from her, the fact that he nodded did not surprise you.

“Yeah, but I do not want to talk about it right now” Cillian responded before asking you whether you were feeling a little better now.

“Much better. Thank you” you said before sitting down next to him, which is when he handed you a glass of red wine.

“Good. So, do you want to tell me what happened to you then? You didn’t come to drama school today and you missed our one on one session and then you came here, in tears, so I assume it is bad” Cillian determined and you nodded reluctantly.

“It’s James…he…fuck…I…” you stammered, causing Cillian to reach for your hands and calming you down.

“What did he do? Did he hit you again?” he asked concerned and you shook your head.

“No. Worse. I think?” you cried and, immediately, Cillian’s thumb came up to wipe away your tears.

“Worse?” he asked, thinking that this wouldn’t possible.

“He shared a picture of me on social media and, since you clearly don’t have Facebook, you were sparred. The entire class got it and he even dropped hard copies of it to my fucking neighbours. He came to my unit block, asking one of them for a key to my apartment and since my roommate isn’t home, I am scared that he comes back” you then explained after a long pause and Cillian wasn’t quite sure what to say.

“He shared a picture of you doing what? Having sex with him?” he thus asked, wanting to know how bad it really was.

“God no” you quickly said in response to his question.

“What then?” Cillian asked, furrowing his eyebrows and you quickly reached for your phone.

“A very unflattering picture in which I am completely naked” you told him before even showing the picture to him as if it was the most normal thing to do.

“I wouldn’t call that unflattering Y/N” Cillian chuckled almost inadvertently before taking a deep breath.

“So, you think that it isn’t a big deal and that, what he did, is okay?” you asked, confused by his reaction.

“No, what he did is absolutely not okay and you need to go to the police about it. He is being a prick and I frankly never understood why you dated this guy in the first place” Cillian reassured you while you put away your phone. “Nonetheless, no matter how wrong it is, you shouldn’t be embarrassed about a picture like this. You are a very attractive woman. The picture is non sexual in nature and nudity is totally acceptable in today’s society” Cillian then explained before reiterating that it shouldn’t be you who is feeling bad about it. It should be him.

“But everyone saw it Cillian! Everyone saw me naked!” you then blurted out, not understanding how he could be so liberal about it all.

“So what?” Cillian asked. “You have nothing to be ashamed of” he went on to say, causing you to give him a look of confusion.

“Are you telling me that you would not care if people saw you completely naked like this?” you thus asked and Cillian shook his head.

“No. In fact, several million people probably already did” Cillian chuckled and you immediately queried him.

“What?” you asked. You were rather confused.

“Never mind. Just google 28 Days Later” Cillian then said, laughing, and you did.

“Holy crap. How did I not know about this?” you then asked before looking at the pictures of where his character Jim was laying on the operating table. He was completely naked and you were amazed by the fact that Cillian was so comfortable about it. “You did a full frontal. Unbelievable” you thus said and he laughed again, lighting the mood.

“I did and, as an actor, I am quite comfortable within my own body and you should be too. You are beautiful, your body is immaculate and you have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. In the end, this is just a picture and if it would have been taken as part of an art project, no one would have questioned it” Cillian then explained to you and you nodded reluctantly, knowing very well that he was right.

“So, what do you think I should do about all those messages that I received?” you asked and, of course, Cillian had an answer.

“Ignore them and, then, tomorrow, you should go to class and pretend as though nothing has happened. If people ask about the picture and whether you are embarrassed by it, you should tell them that you are not. Nudity is natural. We are all born naked, so why should we be ashamed of being photographed in our naked form? It makes absolutely no sense” Cillian tried to argue and you smiled.

“Thank you, Cillian. You are amazing” you thanked him before giving a tight and rather unexpected hug.

“So, are you and you shouldn’t forget that, okay? Do not ever let anyone put you down like this again or take away your passion for what you do” he told you before slowly pulling away from you, wanting to keep his distance.

“I should probably go home, but I really appreciate the chat” you then said but Cillian shook his head.

“Do you really think that it is a smart idea to stay at your place without your roommate being there?” he then asked before offering you his guestroom for the night which, in the end, was an offer you gladly accepted.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

Tag List

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader

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