mariawarrington (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} mariawarrington) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} 20somethings,@ 2022-08-04 21:13:00 |
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| Entry tags: | c: kieran doyle, c: maria warrington, d: 2028 08, Ω: rp |
I have severe abandonment issues and well...
Who: Kieran + Maria
What: Talking About Things
When: Thursday, August 08, 2028 - very late night
Where: Kieran's flat
Warnings: Adult
Completion Status: Ongoing
Kieran still didn’t know what to do. It had been three months since their kiss and he was no closer to figuring out how to proceed with Maria. It was just a kiss he kept telling himself in the mirror every morning. But he worked with her.
He’d spent the night after with a woman whom he’d taken to calling "Fae". Every preceding night of whirlwind sex had let it set in that regardless of his work in group and alone with a therapist that he still had way too many issues. He thought the sex would let him forget about the situation altogether but like a true faerie as soon as she was gone he was left at square one trying to piece together what to do with a subordinate that he was undoubtably attracted too. And there wasn’t enough time to unpack all of that healthily. Not when he worked so closely with Maria.
She was still listed on his floo, thankfully. He’d texted her late one night after he couldn't sleep. It probably wasn’t the best time. Too many emotions. It felt messy. They needed to talk. He needed to talk to her. Hash out whatever this was supposed to be. If there was even a thing to be had anymore.
Maria had been staring at her bedroom ceiling in silence, having given up on even tossing and turning, when her mobile buzzed. To say she was surprised to see "Doyle, Kieran" pop on her screen would be an understatement. She'd been avoiding him still. Especially since she'd been so utterly stupid and gone out partying again a few times this summer. She didn't want sex with random strangers. Drugs. Orgies. But it was a release she desperately needed. Even the Full Moons hadn't done anything to take her mind off it, once she was back to 'normal' and out of St. Mungos. They only kept her an extra morning these days, per her dad's orders. He seemed to think she'd made a turn in her life, and that warranted less concern and micromanagement on his part.
But she had stopped actively volunteering at Belby. She still went to group three times a week. But she didn't stay to clean up, and she didn't participate, and she didn't offer to run errands or address envelopes. Instead, she showed up for the hour of group therapy and then left when it ended. She did her best not to see Kieran, though sometimes it was unavoidable. Like everything else in her life, she'd fucked it up. She'd ruined it. Maria knew this about herself - she ruined things. Good things didn't stick around for her. Hell, her fucking family hadn't even stuck around for her. Not even her dad, not really, he was always off on work and used his money and staff and connections to keep control of her, but that wasn't the same as being there.
When Kieran texted, she sat up in bed, slowly, and crawled out from under the covers. She didn't bother changing out of her pajamas, but she did mutter a quick taming charm on her hair. She slipped into flip flops and then went to the floo, with just her phone and her wand in her pocket.
Stepping out of his floo, she wasn't surprised to see his flat still a mess, but she was surprised to see him sitting on the overstuffed, worn down couch, waiting for her. "What?" She asked, not in the mood but still so achingly happy to see him. She hid that part, obviously.
"Hey." This was a bad fucking idea. It crossed his mind to just tell her that it was nothing. He just couldn’t sleep. His mantra ran through his head again. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. He picked up his pack and a lighter. Shit, only three left. He’d been chain smoking more. As he lit it and inhaled his throat stung. Definitely smoking too much.
"I haven’t seen you around as much." The look she was giving him looked like she didn’t have time for this type of conversation. "I just noticed." An offhand comment. Not seeing her had almost been worse. His moon had been his worst in months and he'd spent more time than usual in recovery. He pulled the sleeves of his sweater further down. The healers had given him dittany to accelerate the healing. ‘Accidents happen’ is what they’d told him. He still wanted to keep them hidden. He didn’t usually get at himself in his transformation. Stupid.
He scooched over on the couch hoping that she’d move to sit instead of looming over him from across his livingroom. "The place is still a mess." He smirked trying to ease some familiarity into the situation.
Maria was confused now. He'd texted her at midnight because he hadn't seen her around the office? If the kiss had been inappropriate (well, the second kiss, after they actually knew each other - the one when he'd kidnapped her from Mungos didn't count to her), this was beyond the pale. "You texted me to come over because you noticed I haven't been around the office?" She voiced her thoughts. "Could it be that the reason I haven't been around is that I'm avoiding you." She emphasized the last word, speaking slowly, figuring there was no way he didn't get it.
She moved slowly across the room, taking a seat on the couch as far from Kieran as possible. She hadn't brought her cigarettes, mistake number two. After mistake number one, which was coming over at all. She reached into his space, her arm brushing his sweater, to steal one of his. She noticed how few he had left and didn't care. She stole his lighter from the little beat up coffee table next, and lit her stolen smoke with a deep inhale. Tossing the lighter back onto the table, she sat back and stared straight ahead, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. Just being near him did things to her - she knew this could be good, if she didn't ruin it like everything else. Yes, he was ten years older and, yes, they both had massive issues. But they understood each other's issues, which was what made her so sure that despite everything, they could work.
Part of her didn't know if she was capable of making anything work, though. Which is what made this so hard. It didn't stop her pulse from jumping when she'd brushed against him, though.
"Yeah, I got that." He stifled the growl raising in the back of his throat. The condescension in her voice made him regret that he’d contacted her for a moment. For a moment, then she was lighting one of his last cigarettes. "That’s going to hurt." He warned. His cigarettes weren’t menthols, but she didn’t flinch. Snatching his lighter, she lit one of his cigarettes and blew out a cloud of smoke. Why did that turn him on? It shouldn’t have turned him on. His couch wasn’t long, but he wanted to cross the space between them. It was only a few feet, but she had already backed herself into the furthest corner away from him. It was the closest they had been in weeks and those few feet were killing him. They’d been right next to each other. They had kissed and now she thought that sitting next to him on the couch was too much?
He needed to focus. "I thought we’d agreed that we didn’t want space?" He echoed his words from that night, his hand coming to rest in between them. She’d sounded so hopeful when she left his flat that night and now it was like they were two strangers sharing an alley and a smoke break again. He hadn’t truly felt any guilt for his behavior over the past weeks. She’d been actively avoiding him and he only assumed that she managed to find her own way of coping with the situation. A chuckle bubbled up from his chest, the situation. Most people would just call it what it is: two people trying to figure things out. It still felt like a bad idea, but nights of anonymous sex was a bad idea and he’d thrown himself into it with too much whiskey and little thought.
She rolled her eyes - still looking ahead of her rather than acknowledging him with a glance - when he said he understood. Clearly he didn't understand, if she was here now. Fuck, why had she even come? She could have just ignored his text, rolled over in bed, turned her phone off for the night. Whatever. Too late. She was already here.
She could leave.
But then he laughed. And it enraged her. She bared her teeth like the animal that she was and turned on him with her whole body. "What the fuck are you laughing at?"
He moved back into his own corner of the couch. "Myself." Clearly, she was pissed. He didn’t blame her.
If she wanted to leave she could. He wouldn’t stop her.
"Can we just actually talk about this?" He pointed between the two of them. There was something here. That had already been established. "I'm shite at whatever this is supposed to be."
He knew he didn’t have to go into depth, she’d heard enough about his story that his abandonment issues were written around his forehead.
Maria couldn't help it, she scoffed and rolled her eyes again but her anger didn't abate at his answer. "Yourself. Yeah, laughing at how stupid you must be to waste your time on me, on... This. I get it." She crossed her arms and moved back into her position just staring ahead, her continence now sad and self-reflective. She leaned forward only to put out her half-smoked cigarette. She noticed him do the same, mirroring her.
But he continued. And she shyly turned to look at him again, this time her body staying put, though, a lump in her throat threatening her with tears. Why couldn't she just be loved? Kieran understood her - their issues matched each other. She felt so much. Not just for him but in general and without drugs it was so hard to hold it all in check. She was sober tonight. Not even a glass of wine before bed. And everything - the self-loathing, the fear, the white-hot anger, the desperation and loneliness and sadness, the way she just wanted him - all threatened to spill over.
"Talk?" She asked, she was terrible at talking. At explaining the depth of her feelings. Of making sense of her jumbled thoughts. She didn't want to talk. She bit her bottom lip, worrying it between her lips as she looked him up and made a decision.
Maria launched at him. Scrabbling over the short distance on the couch and into his lap. She grabbed at his sweater and kissed her way sloppily up his throat to his painfully lush lips. Before she kissed him though, she stopped, looked him in the eyes and said, "I don't want to talk," and then kissed him, hard.
She was infuriating. He wanted to tell her to leave. He was shite with words and he knew it, but she was filling in blanks with words that didn’t even cross his mind. She got up. Maybe she was leaving. There wasn’t much he could’ve done to stop her. If her mind was made up she’d leave and he’d never see her again. He’d muddle through. He still had his work and he’d throw himself full bore back into it.
Whatever the fuck this was he wanted to work it out. Just talk it out. They used to be able to do that. "Yes just-." He didn’t get to finish his sentence. She grabbed at his sweater and they were kissing. She didn’t want words. She was kissing him again. He clamored, his hands running down her back and through her hair. His hands found their hold on her ass. A flurry of questions flooded his brain. None of them with answers. He pushed back into her. She was so small in his arms. Has she always been this small?
Kieran responded enthusiastically to her kiss, her body, and she roared inside at how good it felt. To finally connect with him. This wasn't mindless sex, this wasn't anonymous like she was used to these days. This wasn't fun and easy like with Albie. She wasn't inexperienced anymore. And when his hands settled on her ass like that, gripping and pulling her body closer to him still, she growled in the back of her throat and broke the kiss. Hoarsely, she said, "Isn't this better than talking?" and grinned at him.
She situated herself better to be straddling him fully and attacked his throat again, kissing, nipping, and licking her way up. "Kieran," she said, panting, between contact, "I want you." She didn't say the rest of that, all of you, not just for sex, not just for tonight.
His mouth widened into a crooked smile. Her voice had taken on a playful tone, she needed an answer. There were months of feelings exploding out of him now. The night at the club and Fae didn’t exist anymore. It was a fever dream that he had woken up from. If they never talked about any of it, this could be enough. She was straddling him now, nipping at him, and taking him in.
When she told him her desire, he groaned. She was so small even when she was on top of him. His smile curled. There was nothing stopping him from taking charge. "We need to move then." The couch wasn’t big enough to be sure. He wrapped his arms around her lithe frame and lifted, feeling her legs catch at the top of his hips.
Maria took his lead and wrapped her arms around his neck, grinning into pale expanse of skin there. Her legs automatically wrapped around his hips - she felt hard bone and her bare heels (still just wearing flip flops) dug into his arse. His sweater felt soft and worn against her bare midriff as he moved them into his bedroom. She hadn't been in here yet and when he set her down on the bed she lie back luxuriously, she turned her head on the duvet to take in the room. It was very him, the room.
Her hands reached for him, "Kieran," she said in a whine. She never knew people's names when she had sex, and she wanted to say his name over and over again in joy and boiled over frustration, in relief.
When he came back to her, she pulled him down onto her body, kissing him again, relishing in the fact that she could - at least for the moment, maybe never again, but that was a worry for later.
When they parted, she looked him in his eyes again, feeling strangely vulnerable and connected to him in a way she never had when it came to this sort of intimacy. Not even with Albie. They had 'dated' for a year - he had been her first! - and yet Maria had never never felt this depth of feeling for him. She felt seen in this moment, and she hadn't even undressed yet.
His name came out of her lips softly and with such vulnerability that he was drawn in by the sound of it. She pulled him back down and they came together again. Hovering over her he kissed her again, nipping at her ear, and moving down her neck. They ebbed and flowed in their movements as he took in her form laid out on his duvet. Her shirt was open, a bandeau covering her chest.
"Maria." His voice was low, accent thick. He let his hand wander underneath the shoulder of her top, pushing the fabric out of the way. Teasing at the seam of her bandeau, feeling the thin spandex under his fingers. "I want you, too." He hooked a finger underneath the edge of the fabric and lifted it, letting it snap back into place. Something about having her to himself like this made him more feel more eager - playful and confident.
He’d spent the night after with a woman whom he’d taken to calling "Fae". Every preceding night of whirlwind sex had let it set in that regardless of his work in group and alone with a therapist that he still had way too many issues. He thought the sex would let him forget about the situation altogether but like a true faerie as soon as she was gone he was left at square one trying to piece together what to do with a subordinate that he was undoubtably attracted too. And there wasn’t enough time to unpack all of that healthily. Not when he worked so closely with Maria.
She was still listed on his floo, thankfully. He’d texted her late one night after he couldn't sleep. It probably wasn’t the best time. Too many emotions. It felt messy. They needed to talk. He needed to talk to her. Hash out whatever this was supposed to be. If there was even a thing to be had anymore.
Maria had been staring at her bedroom ceiling in silence, having given up on even tossing and turning, when her mobile buzzed. To say she was surprised to see "Doyle, Kieran" pop on her screen would be an understatement. She'd been avoiding him still. Especially since she'd been so utterly stupid and gone out partying again a few times this summer. She didn't want sex with random strangers. Drugs. Orgies. But it was a release she desperately needed. Even the Full Moons hadn't done anything to take her mind off it, once she was back to 'normal' and out of St. Mungos. They only kept her an extra morning these days, per her dad's orders. He seemed to think she'd made a turn in her life, and that warranted less concern and micromanagement on his part.
But she had stopped actively volunteering at Belby. She still went to group three times a week. But she didn't stay to clean up, and she didn't participate, and she didn't offer to run errands or address envelopes. Instead, she showed up for the hour of group therapy and then left when it ended. She did her best not to see Kieran, though sometimes it was unavoidable. Like everything else in her life, she'd fucked it up. She'd ruined it. Maria knew this about herself - she ruined things. Good things didn't stick around for her. Hell, her fucking family hadn't even stuck around for her. Not even her dad, not really, he was always off on work and used his money and staff and connections to keep control of her, but that wasn't the same as being there.
When Kieran texted, she sat up in bed, slowly, and crawled out from under the covers. She didn't bother changing out of her pajamas, but she did mutter a quick taming charm on her hair. She slipped into flip flops and then went to the floo, with just her phone and her wand in her pocket.
Stepping out of his floo, she wasn't surprised to see his flat still a mess, but she was surprised to see him sitting on the overstuffed, worn down couch, waiting for her. "What?" She asked, not in the mood but still so achingly happy to see him. She hid that part, obviously.
"Hey." This was a bad fucking idea. It crossed his mind to just tell her that it was nothing. He just couldn’t sleep. His mantra ran through his head again. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. He picked up his pack and a lighter. Shit, only three left. He’d been chain smoking more. As he lit it and inhaled his throat stung. Definitely smoking too much.
"I haven’t seen you around as much." The look she was giving him looked like she didn’t have time for this type of conversation. "I just noticed." An offhand comment. Not seeing her had almost been worse. His moon had been his worst in months and he'd spent more time than usual in recovery. He pulled the sleeves of his sweater further down. The healers had given him dittany to accelerate the healing. ‘Accidents happen’ is what they’d told him. He still wanted to keep them hidden. He didn’t usually get at himself in his transformation. Stupid.
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He scooched over on the couch hoping that she’d move to sit instead of looming over him from across his livingroom. "The place is still a mess." He smirked trying to ease some familiarity into the situation.
Maria was confused now. He'd texted her at midnight because he hadn't seen her around the office? If the kiss had been inappropriate (well, the second kiss, after they actually knew each other - the one when he'd kidnapped her from Mungos didn't count to her), this was beyond the pale. "You texted me to come over because you noticed I haven't been around the office?" She voiced her thoughts. "Could it be that the reason I haven't been around is that I'm avoiding you." She emphasized the last word, speaking slowly, figuring there was no way he didn't get it.
She moved slowly across the room, taking a seat on the couch as far from Kieran as possible. She hadn't brought her cigarettes, mistake number two. After mistake number one, which was coming over at all. She reached into his space, her arm brushing his sweater, to steal one of his. She noticed how few he had left and didn't care. She stole his lighter from the little beat up coffee table next, and lit her stolen smoke with a deep inhale. Tossing the lighter back onto the table, she sat back and stared straight ahead, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. Just being near him did things to her - she knew this could be good, if she didn't ruin it like everything else. Yes, he was ten years older and, yes, they both had massive issues. But they understood each other's issues, which was what made her so sure that despite everything, they could work.
Part of her didn't know if she was capable of making anything work, though. Which is what made this so hard. It didn't stop her pulse from jumping when she'd brushed against him, though.
"Yeah, I got that." He stifled the growl raising in the back of his throat. The condescension in her voice made him regret that he’d contacted her for a moment. For a moment, then she was lighting one of his last cigarettes. "That’s going to hurt." He warned. His cigarettes weren’t menthols, but she didn’t flinch. Snatching his lighter, she lit one of his cigarettes and blew out a cloud of smoke. Why did that turn him on? It shouldn’t have turned him on. His couch wasn’t long, but he wanted to cross the space between them. It was only a few feet, but she had already backed herself into the furthest corner away from him. It was the closest they had been in weeks and those few feet were killing him. They’d been right next to each other. They had kissed and now she thought that sitting next to him on the couch was too much?
He needed to focus. "I thought we’d agreed that we didn’t want space?" He echoed his words from that night, his hand coming to rest in between them. She’d sounded so hopeful when she left his flat that night and now it was like they were two strangers sharing an alley and a smoke break again. He hadn’t truly felt any guilt for his behavior over the past weeks. She’d been actively avoiding him and he only assumed that she managed to find her own way of coping with the situation. A chuckle bubbled up from his chest, the situation. Most people would just call it what it is: two people trying to figure things out. It still felt like a bad idea, but nights of anonymous sex was a bad idea and he’d thrown himself into it with too much whiskey and little thought.
She rolled her eyes - still looking ahead of her rather than acknowledging him with a glance - when he said he understood. Clearly he didn't understand, if she was here now. Fuck, why had she even come? She could have just ignored his text, rolled over in bed, turned her phone off for the night. Whatever. Too late. She was already here.
She could leave.
But then he laughed. And it enraged her. She bared her teeth like the animal that she was and turned on him with her whole body. "What the fuck are you laughing at?"
He moved back into his own corner of the couch. "Myself." Clearly, she was pissed. He didn’t blame her.
If she wanted to leave she could. He wouldn’t stop her.
"Can we just actually talk about this?" He pointed between the two of them. There was something here. That had already been established. "I'm shite at whatever this is supposed to be."
He knew he didn’t have to go into depth, she’d heard enough about his story that his abandonment issues were written around his forehead.
Maria couldn't help it, she scoffed and rolled her eyes again but her anger didn't abate at his answer. "Yourself. Yeah, laughing at how stupid you must be to waste your time on me, on... This. I get it." She crossed her arms and moved back into her position just staring ahead, her continence now sad and self-reflective. She leaned forward only to put out her half-smoked cigarette. She noticed him do the same, mirroring her.
But he continued. And she shyly turned to look at him again, this time her body staying put, though, a lump in her throat threatening her with tears. Why couldn't she just be loved? Kieran understood her - their issues matched each other. She felt so much. Not just for him but in general and without drugs it was so hard to hold it all in check. She was sober tonight. Not even a glass of wine before bed. And everything - the self-loathing, the fear, the white-hot anger, the desperation and loneliness and sadness, the way she just wanted him - all threatened to spill over.
"Talk?" She asked, she was terrible at talking. At explaining the depth of her feelings. Of making sense of her jumbled thoughts. She didn't want to talk. She bit her bottom lip, worrying it between her lips as she looked him up and made a decision.
Maria launched at him. Scrabbling over the short distance on the couch and into his lap. She grabbed at his sweater and kissed her way sloppily up his throat to his painfully lush lips. Before she kissed him though, she stopped, looked him in the eyes and said, "I don't want to talk," and then kissed him, hard.
She was infuriating. He wanted to tell her to leave. He was shite with words and he knew it, but she was filling in blanks with words that didn’t even cross his mind. She got up. Maybe she was leaving. There wasn’t much he could’ve done to stop her. If her mind was made up she’d leave and he’d never see her again. He’d muddle through. He still had his work and he’d throw himself full bore back into it.
Whatever the fuck this was he wanted to work it out. Just talk it out. They used to be able to do that. "Yes just-." He didn’t get to finish his sentence. She grabbed at his sweater and they were kissing. She didn’t want words. She was kissing him again. He clamored, his hands running down her back and through her hair. His hands found their hold on her ass. A flurry of questions flooded his brain. None of them with answers. He pushed back into her. She was so small in his arms. Has she always been this small?
Kieran responded enthusiastically to her kiss, her body, and she roared inside at how good it felt. To finally connect with him. This wasn't mindless sex, this wasn't anonymous like she was used to these days. This wasn't fun and easy like with Albie. She wasn't inexperienced anymore. And when his hands settled on her ass like that, gripping and pulling her body closer to him still, she growled in the back of her throat and broke the kiss. Hoarsely, she said, "Isn't this better than talking?" and grinned at him.
She situated herself better to be straddling him fully and attacked his throat again, kissing, nipping, and licking her way up. "Kieran," she said, panting, between contact, "I want you." She didn't say the rest of that, all of you, not just for sex, not just for tonight.
His mouth widened into a crooked smile. Her voice had taken on a playful tone, she needed an answer. There were months of feelings exploding out of him now. The night at the club and Fae didn’t exist anymore. It was a fever dream that he had woken up from. If they never talked about any of it, this could be enough. She was straddling him now, nipping at him, and taking him in.
When she told him her desire, he groaned. She was so small even when she was on top of him. His smile curled. There was nothing stopping him from taking charge. "We need to move then." The couch wasn’t big enough to be sure. He wrapped his arms around her lithe frame and lifted, feeling her legs catch at the top of his hips.
Maria took his lead and wrapped her arms around his neck, grinning into pale expanse of skin there. Her legs automatically wrapped around his hips - she felt hard bone and her bare heels (still just wearing flip flops) dug into his arse. His sweater felt soft and worn against her bare midriff as he moved them into his bedroom. She hadn't been in here yet and when he set her down on the bed she lie back luxuriously, she turned her head on the duvet to take in the room. It was very him, the room.
Her hands reached for him, "Kieran," she said in a whine. She never knew people's names when she had sex, and she wanted to say his name over and over again in joy and boiled over frustration, in relief.
When he came back to her, she pulled him down onto her body, kissing him again, relishing in the fact that she could - at least for the moment, maybe never again, but that was a worry for later.
When they parted, she looked him in his eyes again, feeling strangely vulnerable and connected to him in a way she never had when it came to this sort of intimacy. Not even with Albie. They had 'dated' for a year - he had been her first! - and yet Maria had never never felt this depth of feeling for him. She felt seen in this moment, and she hadn't even undressed yet.
His name came out of her lips softly and with such vulnerability that he was drawn in by the sound of it. She pulled him back down and they came together again. Hovering over her he kissed her again, nipping at her ear, and moving down her neck. They ebbed and flowed in their movements as he took in her form laid out on his duvet. Her shirt was open, a bandeau covering her chest.
"Maria." His voice was low, accent thick. He let his hand wander underneath the shoulder of her top, pushing the fabric out of the way. Teasing at the seam of her bandeau, feeling the thin spandex under his fingers. "I want you, too." He hooked a finger underneath the edge of the fabric and lifted it, letting it snap back into place. Something about having her to himself like this made him more feel more eager - playful and confident.