# CILLIAN MURPHY

[hotch-girl]

THE DARK KNIGHT (2008)

dir. christopher nolan

[lynchlightman]

There's something wrong with your doctor...

[paradiseprincesss]

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Tornado Warnings | Jonathan Crane

hi im back! sorry for being so inactive. i'm trying to write whenever i have like a min to breathe from uni...anyways i wanted to write something that feels like fall? does that make sense? probably not LOL

summary — the best thing to do to pass time in a power outage is sex, obviously.

warnings — smut, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f!receiving), super soft lover boy jonathan, fluff

word count — 1.8k

masterlist

MDNI 18+ ONLY

“Oh.”

Your voice cut through the silence in Jonathan and yours’ shared, cozy bedroom as the previously dimly lit room was now consumed in total darkness. “I don’t like this,” you said to your boyfriend who was beside you in bed as you tossed your book down, “I was trying to read.” 

A tornado warning for Gotham was issued earlier, but they said that’s all it was — just a warning. However, the turbulent wind clearly had some effect on your home, as the power was now out. Like you said to Jonathan; you were just trying to read, but it seemed like Mother Nature had other plans. 

Plus, you weren’t a big fan of the dark. Couldn’t the power have gone off at any other time besides nearly midnight? 

“You’re funny, you know that?” Jonathan said with a chuckle, and if you could’ve seen him right now, you knew you’d see him smiling. You heard some shuffling as Jonathan reached over, presumably to grab his phone, and turning on the flashlight. “Stay here, I’m going to grab some candles to light.” 

“I’m scared,” you whined. “I hate the dark.”

“You’ll live,” he teased, getting up before leaving the room for a few minutes until he returned, candles in hand. “Good thing you insisted we go to Target and get all these candles for fall.” 

For someone as malicious and unhinged as he was, his tough exterior would crack (more like completely shatter) when he was around you. Since Jonathan is constantly consumed by his work, he likes to spend time with you as much as he can when he isn’t at Arkham (and poisoning Gotham) working late. So, that means if you want to get Starbucks and go shopping for fall candles at Target — he’s there. 

No questions asked.

Sure, he may have been a corrupt psychiatrist as well as a hardened criminal and one of Gotham’s many rogues, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to do domestic things with his girlfriend. On Saturday nights, he would be working till the early hours of the morning with his patients and his toxin — only to spend the following Sunday wrapped up in bed with you watching silly Netflix shows.

The best of both worlds is how Jonathan would put it. 

“You always say I have too many,” you huffed, to which he laughed softly, lighting the 3-wick candles.

“That’s because you have like, what, fifty? Our entire house smells like maple pecan waffles all the time, twenty-four-seven — but you get so excited over them. It’s cute. I love watching you get all excited over this kind of stuff.” 

You blushed at his words, looking over at his handsome face, now illuminated by the dim light of multiple lit candles placed throughout your bedroom. “Shut up,” you mumble, watching him get back into bed with you. “Just come here and love me.”

He looked at you with those heart-stopping blue eyes of his, pulling you in for a soft kiss. Instinctively, you wrapped your around his shoulders, deepening the kiss. “I’ve missed you,” he said between kisses, dragging them down your neck and nipping gently at the delicate skin. “Hate when work keeps me away from you, my dear.”

“I know,” you said quietly, eyes fluttering shut from the feeling of his lips against your skin. “I hate it, too. I…” You felt yourself losing your train of thought as his hands roamed your body, settling on your waist as you two lay cozied up in the bed. 

“Let me show you how much I’ve missed you, my darling,” he whispered, squeezing your waist gently as you rested your head comfortably against the pillows, lying back. “All I could think about at work was you. All alone at home…waitin’ for me.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He left a trail of kisses all down your body, slowly building up to where you wanted him to go. Luckily for Jonathan, tonight — even amid a tornado warning — you decided to wear your favourite lace slip to bed with nothing underneath, making it all the more easy for him to access every part of you. 

Within minutes, he had you slipping out of your lace as you tossed the delicate garment somewhere onto the bedroom floor with only one thing on your mind right now. The rather intimate and romantic lighting from the collection of candles dimly lighting up the room wasn’t helping your case either. 

Jonathan’s intoxicating touch brought you back to reality, and you weren’t sure how it happened (not that you care how it came to be), but his hands were gently resting on your thighs as he lay between your legs, his crystalline blue eyes filled with hunger. 

At this very moment, you sent a silent thank you to Mother Nature for causing this to happen during ovulation week because yes, you were so horny that your glistening cunt was dripping onto the bedsheets underneath you and he hadn’t even touched you there yet. All you knew was that you needed to be touched, to be fucked, to be loved right now and thank god Jonathan was here to satisfy that primal need in you. 

“Please, Jon — we haven’t had sex in like two days,” you whined, causing him to let out a breathless laugh as he smiled sweetly at you. He may have found it funny that you were this desperate (after only 48 hours…) but you didn’t find a thing about this situation humorous. With your hormones clouding your judgment, you started to beg your loving boyfriend. “Come on Jonathan, I–”

Before you could muster up any more whines and pleas, he licked a fat stripe up your already soaking cunt, swiping his tongue through your folds as you arched your back and let out a guttural moan.

“O-oh—“ 

He lapped up your cunt skillfully as his hands kept a firm grip on your thighs, making sure that he was eating you out until you couldn’t take it anymore. “Delicious,” he mumbled against your cunt, continuing to lick, nip, and eat your pussy out as if it was the last thing he’d ever get to do in this lifetime. 

Mere minutes in and you were already arching your back, breathlessly saying his name over and over again — he could never get tired of hearing you like this. The way you’d feverishly moan “Oh, Jonathan,” and occasionally if you were exceptionally into it, you’d sometimes call him “baby,” and that always wound him up. Jonathan could spend ages with his face buried between your thighs, but it seemed that you were already close to coming pretty quickly. 

“Yes! Please–” you frantically moaned, feeling the waves of your release starting to wash over you with his tongue deep inside your soaking hole, lapping up all your juices. “Jon, baby, I’m gonna…”

Jonathan continued to eat you out as if he were a starved man through your orgasm, letting you ride it out and rut against his face until you were pushing his head away softly from the slight overstimulation. After getting up from between your legs, he wiped your arousal off of his chin, looking at you as if you were the answer to his every prayer. 

“God, you’re like a dream,” he said softly, causing your cheeks to heat up. 

Before any more romantic words could roll off the tip of his tongue, you were helping him out of his black pyjama shirt and his checkered pyjama pants (and yes, you found his love of checkered pyjama pants adorable). As soon as you tugged his pyjama pants down, his cock sprung out, slapping his stomach lightly.

“Fuck, look how hard you get me, darling,” he praised, stroking himself a few times before lining himself up with your drooling hole. He smirked as he teased the tip of his cock against your folds, watching you make a mess of the sheets underneath you just from how wet you were alone once again. “Looks like you’ve been missing me too, hm darling?” 

“So bad,” you agreed with a whimper, which turned straight into a moan as he started to push the head of his cock in. He let you get adjusted to him as you slowly took him inch by inch until you were full with his thick cock, walls stretching to accommodate his size.

“F-fuck, so f..full,” you choked out as he started to move slowly, warm hands coming to hold your hips as he gently started fucking you in the candlelight. 

“But you take it so well, darling,” he cooed softly, fucking you with a bit more force now. “Such a good girl, fuck. Look at you, taking my cock so deep.” 

“Mmm,” you mindlessly babbled, his fat cock causing you to lose all inhibitions as he (literally) fucked you stupid. “Oh, b-big–” 

As you squeaked out whatever words you could form, he let out a low groan himself, starting to really pound your warm, tight hole. You could feel his tip brushing up against that spongy spot inside of you, which in return caused you to start moaning almost helplessly.

“Right there?” He teased, watching your face contort in pure bliss and pleasure. “That feel good, darling? Jesus, you’re so pretty…”

He choked out a few incohesive curses as he felt you tighten up around him while he talked you through it, clearly already close from him plowing your cunt for just a few minutes. This was usually the best type of sex between you and Jonathan — whenever you two would just ravish each other in bed all…lovingly. Extra points if it was romantic like this; under the candlelight in a power outage. 

“Yes! Fuck, keep going, Jon,” you hoarsely screamed out as he fucked you raw, slamming his cock into your tight little cunt as you got close to your second orgasm and he was following right behind you.

“So tight,” he mumbled. “Perfect fucking pussy, so fucking good—” 

“Gon’ cum..I’m gonna–!” You whined before your vision went white, cunt clenching down around his length as you drenched him and the sheets. 

Jonathan looked down in awe as a clear liquid poured out of you, spilling all over him, his cock, and the sheets. The sight of you squirting that much sent his brain into overdrive as he gave a few more sloppy thrusts before spurting his warm, sticky cum onto your plush walls. As he filled your cunt, he let out a rather loud groan, gripping your hips so tight it almost hurt. 

For a moment, all was still and silent as the two of you caught your breaths in the now slightly stuffy bedroom that smelt like a mix of sex and whatever pumpkin-spiced and cinnamon-scented candles you had going. Jonathan was the first to speak as he finally pulled out of you, careful not to hurt you, and pulled you close into his arms the second he laid back down beside you. 

“I’m never going to stop you from getting your candles ever again,” he decided jokingly, kissing the top of your head. 

“See,” you said proudly, “they set the mood and they smell good.” 

“True,” he said, pausing for a moment before looking down at the soaked bedding then back at you with a smile. “So, we should probably clean the sheets…”

taglist ->

@girlinterrupted505 @ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a

@xanaxiii @nocturnest @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones 

@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @esotericdoe

@kpopgirlbtssvt 

@ll4n4 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebellebarnes @wiseyouthinfluencer

@abprill @minedofmoria @strangeobsessed @5tud10-54r4h @franzine-xii 

@stsrfujid @psylrd @eyraaaaaae @nyxxie-pooh @momoewn

@fauxcongenialite @ceruleanrainblues @o0laura @fiona-my-love @cranecat

@hfidnnf

[vervainandspritz]

UNTIL YOU COME BACK HOME

Jackson Rippner x Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warning: smut, angst, comfort

A/N: I'll get back to writing more chapters soon. For now, have this oneshot. Please Interact and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

“Oh god, Jackson!” Y/n gasped as soon as she saw him through the peephole in the door. Moving as quickly as possible, she swung the door open, pouncing forward to get a hold of him.

He stood there, his breathing shallow and rugged. White button up shirt ripped on his shoulder, revealing the bleeding wound. The material surrounding it was covered in crimson red. His hair sweaty, beads dripping down his face as he barely kept his blue, cloudy eyes open.

“Y/n” he mumbled, taking a heavy step forward as he grabbed onto her shoulders. She huffed as he put his weight on her, and with some struggle they managed to both get inside as she kicked the door shut.

Hundreds and thousands of thoughts ran through her head as she helped him to the living room where he mindlessly slumped on the couch.

“Wait here” she murmured, rushing to the bathroom for the first aid kit that was quite… advanced ever since she met him. Grabbing the necessities, Y/n quickly moved back to the living room, putting it all on the table with her shaky hands. He looked barely conscious and her heart was pounding like crazy as she took his shirt off to make sure that the visible injuries were the only ones on him.

He kept mumbling something every now and then but she didn't listen, instead she focused on stopping the bleeding from his shoulder and stitching him back up.

Breathing deeply, Y/n tried her best to get her hands more steady as she did her very best to ensure he'd be… better than whatever state she found him in.

Two hours and some tears later, Jackson was settled in her own bed, wearing only briefs and breathing heavily. She wiped her face while glancing at the clock only then realising how late it was. Jackson was completely out of it, and from the look of it, he would be for several more hours because of the medicine she gave him. The medicine he needed to ensure his wound wouldn't get infected.

Y/n was aware of his job, and it was one of the biggest factors of why she decided to never let their relationship move forward. Just sex, they said before. She couldn't afford getting her heart broken.

His lips said one thing, and his actions showed another, she thought. She wrapped her arms around his waist as she hugged his back lightly, her cheek pressing to his hot skin. Only for now, it was safe to do so. He was unconscious, so he wouldn't make a fuss about it. The closeness with lack of any sexual intentions. Intimacy. Comfort.

As expected, Jackson slept for a long time before eventually waking up, a little past 7 PM the next day.

She managed to clean up her bathroom and couch from his blood, getting her apartment to become squeaky clean because of the anxiety she was feeling. Y/n tried to be productive instead of impatiently waiting at him and biting her nails.

“Y/n” He said in a hoarse, husky voice before grimacing slightly because of the dryness and pain in his throat. Hearing him, she jumped a little, clearly startled as her book fell on the floor with a thud.

“Oh shit, you scared me.” Y/n said, with a hand on her chest as she eyed him quickly before getting up to get a glass of water for him, hearing the state of his throat. “How are you feeling?” She asked quietly after handing him the glass. Her brows slightly furrowed at his unusually pale skin.

“As wonderful as I look” He replied with a scoff after drinking the water and setting the glass aside with a groan.

“You were really hurt this time.” She started quietly, fidgeting with her fingers for a moment as she kept looking at him. “You’ve been asleep for over twenty four hours, Jackson. You—you need to tell me what happened.” She says eventually, crossing her arms over her chest as her frustration grew. She knew how unhappy he was whenever she'd ask questions, and Y/n liked his presence too much to risk losing him over that. So she wouldn't ask, not usually, but this time was different. It was too big to pretend like it didn't happen.

His pale, blue eyes avoided looking directly into hers as he let out a deep breath. His frame was tense.

“Don't act stupid, you know damn well what I do for a living, sweetheart.” He replied. “It's not always all rainbows and flowers.” The sarcasm smoothly made its way down his tongue, as always, seemed like. Y/n got used to the fact Jackson was fluent in this particular thing.

Hearing his tone her body tensed in a combative manner. Squeezing her first, she pointed at him with the other, shaking hand.

“Don't you fucking dare talk to me this way after I spent my whole night stitching you up, preventing you from bleeding out, and barely closing my eyes to make sure you were bloody alive!” Her voice shook slightly every now and then as she tried to stand her ground against him. “It's YOUR work to do… all that, but is it my work to always stitch you up afterwards? Why the hell do you come here since I don't deserve even a brief explanation?” She demanded to know, looking intently at him as she wrapped her arms around herself for some, much needed at the moment, comfort.

Jackson tilted his head slightly, raising his chin as he finally looked her in the eyes. His facial expression was impossible to read, as always.

But the one thing she was perfect at, was reading his eyes. Ever since day one, Jackson would always try to avoid eye contact in such situations. Even though his stare never failed before, and he was going through life thinking he mastered it.

Well, maybe he did. Y/n was the only one who saw more in his bright, storm and tempest filled eyes. So he'd purposely put a wall between the two of them. She knew him too well to believe in the theatrics he was so prone to use on people.

“Your apartment was the closest place I could think of at the moment. It's not that deep.” His voice was low and emotionless, husky from the lack of usage in the last twenty four hours but he managed to keep up the eye contact for just a few seconds before looking away.

Yet, it hurt her. Sighing deeply, she shook her head and made her way to the kitchen as Jackson slowly got up from her bed.

Looking around for his pants, he ran a hand through his hair with a groan. The one thing he could admit to himself was that seeing disappointment in her eyes wasn't… nice. It didn't feel good.

“So… when can I see you now?” He asked casually, trying to break the tension after a couple minutes, thinking that she just gave up asking him questions like always, after he'd shut her down.

The silence hung in the air for a longer moment, charged with unsaid words and buzzing emotions. Y/n was tired, visibly and mentally.

“Don't come here anymore, Jack. I can't do it.”

A quiet voice came from the kitchen, making his heart stop for a moment and his eyes to widen. Turning around he walked up to her, leaning on the counter.

“Come on, you're not mad at me, are you?” He asked, raising his eyebrows, not understanding the vulnerable expressions on her face, which she never hid. Y/n wasn't scared to be vulnerable with her feelings around him, which was always a source of conflicted emotions within himself.

With a resigned sigh, she put the knife and veggies down, looking up at him.

“No, it's… it's more than that. I just can't do what you're expecting of me.” She started, shaking her head a little. “Just—just fuck you, and then, then take care of you and never care enough to ask. I can't do that. It's—it's not me, I'm sorry.” The way her body language changed, the vulnerability and raw hurt in her voice made the annoyingly painful feeling gnaw at this one spot in his chest. He didn't know what to say for a moment before turning around and walking a couple steps through her living room. Anger and confusion grew in his head, as the only real emotions he knew so well. Hand tugging on his hair as he let out a humourless laugh.

“You don't mean it. We're just—just arguing again.” He said, trying to convince either her or himself, but the feeling of dread already settled between his ribs. His voice came out louder than intended, accusing even.

As the response didn't come, he turned around again facing her. Taking a couple fast steps he winced at the sharp pain in his shoulder.

“What do you want me to say, Y/n? We talked about it before, I— fucking can't tell you anything!” He said with sharp anger bubbling beneath the surface.

“Jackson, I said I get it! I just can't do what you want me to!” She exclaimed, her voice an octave higher than usually at his sudden outburst. She felt panicked with what was happening. With the idea of never seeing him again, and with what she was feeling at the moment. The feelings accompanying her were much more complex than she'd like them to be.

“Then why are you so fucking dramatic about it!” He continued pacing back and forth, not handling the situation very well, or picking up on the irony of his words.

Y/n raised her eyebrows with a scoff.

“Me? I'm just breaking it off, Jackson. You are the one yelling at me and running around my living room.” She pointed out, keeping the pain hidden away. For now.

He stopped in his tracks immediately as she called him out on the frantic behaviour.

“I wouldn't if you weren't like… this!” He spat out, his blue eyes filled with coldness and anger. The sudden motion as he swung his arm, caused the stitches to rip and blood started dripping down his arm. “Fuck!”

Y/n’s eyes widened immediately.

“Jack, calm down! Your arm!” She squealed, making him raise his eyebrows in surprise. Her hand grasped his bigger one as she pulled him to the bathroom, pushing him to sit on the edge of the bathtub. It was a fairly small room, with not much space after he'd fill it out with his wide frame, so without a second thought she slumped on his lap.

He sat here wordlessly, the combative facial expression still decorating his handsome face as she worked on the wound, cleansing it before getting to the stitching.

He didn't make a sound until the last stitch, when he suddenly let out a loud hiss at the particularly painful movement of the needle in his skin.

“Sorry” she said quietly out of habit. “You need to stop thrashing like a wild animal for the next few days.” Y/n added, concerned with his state.

Jackson scoffed, tensing as he looked in her eyes accusingly.

“Don't tell me what to do. You dumped me.” His voice was low and grumbly, still carrying some anger in it, but the way he put it made Y/n let out a giggle uncontrollably. His gaze softened slightly. He sounded like an offended child.

“As far as I know, we weren't together, Jackson.” Her voice was more playful than anything as she finished the stitching, putting the tools aside. Caressing the skin on his arm, Y/n sighed.

Jackson kept looking at her with a lump forming in his throat. After a minute he broke the silence.

“I don't know what you want me to say, but you won’t hear…” He started before clearing his throat, unsure of what words to use. Of how to explain.”—hear THAT from me, Y/n. I just can't.” He said quietly, his hands holding her hips, thumbs rubbing little circles on her soft skin. The silence settled in the air again, as she felt he wasn't finished just yet. Just needed some more time to recollect his words. “...but I don't want to not see you anymore.” He sounded weaker than ever, more… vulnerable. The trait she wanted to see in him so badly, making her heart soften in an instant.

Feeling the surge of hope rushing through her veins, she raised her hands to his face, tilting his head up so her eyes would meet his. Her eyes were– bright again, Jackson noticed subconsciously.

“You don't want to lose me.” She stated with confidence, knowing what he meant. Jackson neither denied nor confirmed, sighing deeply as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Say it.” She demanded, caressing his skin and as soon as he looked again, searching his blue eyes for anything that would show her she was wrong. She didn't find anything.

He took a deep breath, his fingers digging into her skin harder.

“I don't want to lose you.” He repeated, sounding like the words almost drowned him, but he knew it was a turning point. Jack knew she was – patient and understanding. It would be enough. They stared at each other for a longer moment before she touched his cheek with a little chuckle.

Seeing her eyes so shiny and cheeks blushed, Jackson regretted he didn't say it sooner. It took a lot, but it was worth it. Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead against hers.

“What's so funny?” He scoffed playfully, looking at her lips with a deep breath.

Y/n leaned in, kissing him in a way that took his breath away for a mere moment making him forget who they were. Who he was. A way that she wouldn't dare to kiss him before.

“Stubborn man” she let out with a sigh after pulling away.

Only then did she get up, pulling him back to the bedroom deciding that she'd force him to rest if he wouldn't agree right away.

***

Slowly opening her eyes, Y/n wiped her face with a yawn before she noticed he was awake. The admirably blue eyes looked at her halfway open with a smirk, and for a second she got mad at him for never staying the whole night before. The view was wonderful.

“Hi” She said with a chuckle, making him raise his eyebrow in amusement.

“Hi,” He replied, pulling her closer. Her dishevelled state made her even more attractive than usual, in a completely different way. It was a way that Jackson never looked at other women before which was a little scary, but well. He was way too sleepy to think about it now. With his own eyes barely open and vulnerable as never before, he let out a chuckle. It felt so easy at the moment, like he wasn't a killer without any actual identity. Like he had a chance for a life with the beautiful woman by his side.

Stretching with a groan he shifted to the side, being fairly careful with his injured shoulder. Jackson's hand landed on Y/n’s bare hip as her shirt shifted up, revealing her pale skin. She opened her eyes again, glancing at him as she heard the throaty purr coming from his mouth.

“Jackson” She warned with a giggle, knowing his intentions too well. “You're–” She started, but before she'd manage to finish, he flipped her on her back, hanging over her like a thundercloud. “–injured.” Her voice was defeated with an undertone of humour at his mischievous doings.

“Still healthy enough.” He replied, leaning down and grazing his nose over her neck. After two years of seeing only her, he wasn't able to prevent associating her scent with something– familiar.

Home

Pressed so tightly against her, Jackson felt the familiar stirring in his lower stomach, making him sigh deeply. His warm breath wrapped itself around her skin, making her shiver with delight. He leaned down, biting onto her neck lightly as his hands began stripping her of the pajama pants she was wearing.

She let it happen, until she didn't. Her smaller hand getting a hold of his wrist.

“In my way.” She said, turning her head to meet his eyes. “My way or not at all. Your stitches will probably burst again if I agree to do it the usual way.” She said with a voice that allowed no opposition. That was a voice he rarely heard, but the feisty look in her eyes was clear. She wouldn't bend under his will because she cared about his health.

With a loud, dramatic sigh he slumped on the bed, giving up. Seeing it, Y/n chuckled, raising her brows. Pointing at the tent in his underwear, she asked.

“So you need help with that or not?” Her voice was full of amusement and clear lighthearted mockery. Jackson's eyes immediately shifted to her face.

“Don't push it before I change my mind” he grumbled with a hidden smirk, making her laugh out louder as she got up, pulling her underwear down all the way before she straddled his hips.

Her soft hand began travelling down his chest, tracing every inch of his skin, appreciating the masculine firmness to him. The sensation of his muscles against her delicate fingers.

The air in the room immediately shifted, and Jackson's expression changed. His brows slightly furrowed, as he watched her actions. He was clearly confused, never touched with such intention before in his life. His muscles tensed beneath her fingers, almost expecting pain to come any second now.

Violence was all he knew. She understood it, but it nevertheless broke her heart a little bit.

Looking him in the eyes, she leaned forward, her lips following the path her fingers travelled. She left little kisses on each scar and imperfection she encountered.

Jackson wasn't sure what he felt. Whether he liked it or not, he was more confused than ever before. That's why when she reached the V on his lower stomach, still kissing, he rose up slightly.

“Don't” he said quietly. The atmosphere was so intimate and vulnerable, that for once in his life, he didn't feel up to being pleasured in such a way. He already let her do too much, Jackson thought.

Y/n looked up, meeting his bright eyes with her own. The tension and– fear on his face was visible for the first time since she ever met him.

Nodding lightly, she came back up, kissing him passionately as her hands worked on his underwear, pulling it down and stroking his hard length. Deep groans pushed past his lips with each move as his eyes fell shut. He looked more beautiful than ever, Y/n thought seeing him then.

Only the sensation of her warmth engulfing his manhood brought Jackson back, making him open his eyes and letting his jaw fall open.

“Fuck” he gasped, as she leaned back, supporting herself by holding onto his stomach, not forgetting about his injury.

His hands gripped onto her hips. Still sitting up, Jackson tried moving her on top of his hips to get her to move faster, but Y/n wasn't having any of it. Pushing him back, she leaned forward and captured his lips in a searing kiss while she sensually moved. She was in no rush. Y/n enjoyed every sensation the connection between them was giving her. The slow pace was making him more sensitive to their surroundings than the usual frantic rhythm. The sound of her quiet sighs and whimpers filled his ears like the most beautiful melody. The way her face gave away the all-consuming bliss she experienced from how he felt inside her, but also from how… close they were. Jackson felt like he was slipping. The situation was getting out of control as his mind started spiralling into the vulnerability, which he desperately didn't want to happen.

Looking up, he noticed Y/n watching his face intently, her mouth slightly open as she moved to her own rhythm. Her breasts swayed with each movement before she leaned down, kissing all over his neck while her hands travelled around his collarbones, caressing his skin.

Wordlessly Jackson's bigger hand slowly grabbed hers, moving it up towards his throat, wrapping it suggestively with a certain look in his eyes. Y/n knew.

Of course she did.

With a quiet sigh, she shook her head lightly, moving upwards to his cheek, the gentle touch sending shockwaves down his spine as she watched him with care and gentleness he never experienced.

Covering her hand with his own, Jackson sat up lightly, moving her closer. He didn't fight it anymore.

“You're so beautiful” He breathed out, wrapping his arm around her waist and capturing her lips in a deep, sensual dance as she caressed his hair. They both seemed to get lost in the sensations, drowning in each other's presence without any will or need to seek saving.

As Y/n squeezed her eyes, her body tensing on top of his, Jackson knew she was coming. Leaning his forehead on her collarbone, he followed right after. For the first time in his life, he realised that the way she held him felt even better than the most amazing orgasm he ever experienced.

…and just like that, Jackson knew he’d stay the night, and countless more.

Because even if he couldn't name or say it, he knew the reason why he would keep coming back.

***

Taglist: @lau219 @xsweetcatastrophe

[nostalgc]

Cillian Murphy in Watching the Detectives, (2007).

[filmesbrazil]

[cillmurphyslover]

Need him right nowww 😩

[kikimurphys]

The Wrap Party (Part Two)

Pairing: Cillian x Reader

Warnings: Smut

Sumary: A casual night with friends takes an unexpected turn when Y/N finds herself alone with Cillian Murphy.

When his calves brushed the edge of the bed, he gently laid you down, the soft fabric of your underwear the only thing left between your body and his gaze. He paused for a moment, his eyes devouring the sight of you, splayed out beneath him, vulnerable yet powerful in your own sensuality. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with awe and desire.

His hands went to the waistband of his trousers, tugging them down, leaving only his boxers. The clear outline of his cock strained beneath the fabric, and your pulse quickened at the sight. Before he could make another move, you sat up, arms wrapping around him as you pulled him down into a fierce, hungry kiss. His fingers threaded through your hair, trailing down your back at an agonizingly slow pace that made you whimper with need.

His hands reached for the clasp of your bra, and with one fluid motion, it was undone, the delicate fabric slipping away from your skin. His lips never left yours, his kisses growing more possessive, his hand sliding to your neck in a gentle hold, his thumb caressing the sensitive skin there.

"God, I want you," you breathed against his lips, your voice a low, needy whisper as his other hand found your nipple, teasing and tugging it just right, making you arch into his touch. His groans rumbled through his chest, mixing with your soft moans as you melted further into him, the ache between your thighs growing unbearable.

Your fingers trailed down his toned torso, grazing the waistband of his boxers before you began to slide them down. You pulled the fabric down slowly, your eyes locked on his as you exposed him. The sight of his cock had you biting your lip, a low moan escaping as you admired his size, the thought of him inside you making your body thrum with anticipation.

You licked your lips, eyes dark with lust as you glanced back up at him, meeting his gaze. His hand gripped your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. He kissed you with a hunger that matched your own, his lips demanding, and you responded in kind, your hand wrapping around him. You began to pump him slowly, teasing him, and he groaned into your mouth, the sound sending a thrill through you.

"Cillian," you breathed against his lips, voice dripping with desire, teasing him as your hand slowly worked up and down his length. "Do you want your cock in my mouth?"

His eyes fluttered shut, his breath ragged as he fought to keep control, but your words shattered what little restraint he had left. "Fuck... yes," he whispered, his voice hoarse. His fingers traced your face, then down to your neck, tender and gentle, contrasting with the raw need building between you. He wasn’t used to this, to being at someone else’s mercy. Normally, he liked to be the one in control, taking charge, making a woman completely unravel beneath him. But you—God, you were undoing him without even trying.

“You do?” you asked with an innocent pout, your tone a stark contrast to the sinful grin curling on your lips. You kissed his jaw, then nibbled on his earlobe, enjoying how he groaned in response. His hips jerked forward in your hand, desperate for more friction, but you kept your pace slow, almost torturous, thumb circling the head of his cock, teasing the beads of precum dripping from him.

"Yeah," he breathed out, his hips betraying his need as they sought more of your touch. His fingers clenched at your shoulders, his grip tight but trembling with restraint.

“Do you want my mouth wrapped around you?” you whispered directly into his ear, the wicked smile on your lips barely contained as you let your words linger in the thick air between you.

The groan that left his mouth was low and needy, his control hanging by a thread. With a growl of frustration, he grabbed your shoulders, pushing you down to your knees, his impatience finally snapping. You giggled softly, reveling in how badly you’d worked him up, before looking up at him with those dark, lust-filled eyes.

Your lips parted, and you took him into your mouth slowly, savoring the way his cock twitched at your touch. His head fell back, a deep groan rumbling through his chest as he felt the warmth of your mouth envelop him. You started slow, your tongue swirling around the tip before taking him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you set a steady rhythm.

Cillian’s hands found their way to your hair, tangling in the strands as he guided your head, his hips pushing forward slightly, testing how much you could take. “Fuck… just like that,” he groaned, his grip tightening as you took more of him, your gag reflex barely kicking in as you relaxed your throat.

His fingers tightened in your hair, pulling you closer as his hips began to thrust, the sensation of your mouth driving him wild. He started to take control, his cock sliding deeper into your throat as he thrust forward, slowly at first, testing your limits. But as your eyes fluttered closed and you moaned around him, the vibration pushing him closer to the edge, he couldn’t hold back.

“God, you look so good like this,” he growled, his voice thick with lust as he fucked your mouth with increasing intensity. Your eyes were tearing, your jaw aching, but you didn’t care. The sight of him, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth, turned you on so much it made the heat between your legs almost unbearable. The wetness in your knickers only added to the tension, and you started rubbing slow circles with your palm over the soaked fabric, trying to relieve the ache that was building inside you.

His hips snapped forward again, his thrusts growing more erratic as his cock slid deeper into your throat, filling your mouth with every stroke. His breathing grew heavier, ragged, punctuated by deep groans and words of praise that only spurred you on. Your hands gripped his thighs for stability as he took control, guiding you to take him exactly how he wanted. Each time he groaned your name, the more you needed him.

You could feel him getting closer with every thrust, his cock twitching inside your mouth, the tension building rapidly. “I’m gonna cum,” he warned, his voice strained, as he tightened his grip in your hair, his hips jerking with need. His pace became erratic, desperate. His cock pulsed against your tongue, and you knew he was right on the edge, so close to falling over.

Pulling back slightly, you pumped him slowly with your hand, licking your lips. “Come in my mouth,” you whispered, your voice a breathy plea. “Please.” The desperation in your voice was all it took to push him over. With a rough groan, he grabbed the back of your head, pulling you forward onto his cock as he thrust into your mouth a few more times, his body shuddering as he came.

His warm seed filled your mouth, thick and hot, and you struggled to swallow all of it, not wanting to waste a drop. You sucked him clean, milking him dry until he had nothing left to give, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue as you pulled back, releasing him with a soft pop.

You swallowed it all, licking your lips with a satisfied smile as you looked up at him. Cillian's grip on your hair loosened as his ragged breathing began to slow, but his eyes, dark and full of hunger, stayed locked on yours. He looked completely wrecked, his body trembling from the intensity of his release, yet you could tell he wasn’t done with you.

“Come here,” he commanded, his voice thick with lust, pulling you up by your arms. He grabbed your face, his kiss urgent yet tender, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he tasted himself on your lips. “You’re so perfect,” he whispered, his breath warm against your lips before kissing you again, deeper this time.

With a soft moan, you let him guide you back onto the bed, your body melting under his touch. His lips never left yours as you lay down, and soon, he began trailing soft kisses down your jaw, your neck, and then your chest, his mouth lingering on your sensitive nipples, drawing a whimper from you. His hand caressed your breast as his mouth worked on the other, slow and teasing, making you arch into him.

His kisses traveled lower, down your stomach, sending shivers through you with each inch of skin he touched. He stopped at your navel, swirling his tongue around it, the sensation driving you wild. You instinctively tried to close your legs, the anticipation unbearable, but he spread them gently, placing a hand on each of your thighs to hold you open for him.

Cillian kissed along your hips, his lips feather-light, teasing the sensitive skin there, but never where you wanted him most. When he reached the waistband of your knickers, he hooked his fingers under the fabric and slowly pulled them down, his lips leaving a trail of hot kisses along your thighs as he went. Every touch of his mouth made you ache for him, the heat between your legs growing unbearable.

He positioned himself between your thighs, his face hovering just above your aching core. You were open for him, your body trembling with need, but he didn’t dive in right away. Instead, he kissed the inside of your thighs, his hands caressing the sensitive skin there, his touch light and teasing.

As his lips brushed teasingly along your inner thighs, your body reacted instinctively, hips bucking slightly toward him. You were desperate for more contact, more friction, anything to relieve the pressure building inside you.

“Cillian,” you whimpered, your voice strained with need, but all you got in response was that devilish smirk of his. His mouth hovered just above your core, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers traced lightly over your folds. You shuddered as his thumb brushed your swollen clit, barely a touch, but enough to drive you wild.

“Fuck, you're dripping,” he murmured with a wicked smile, his fingers gliding through your wetness. “I can’t wait to taste you.” His tone was low and rough, full of raw lust. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs, desperate for his mouth, but instead, he slid one finger inside you, pumping slowly, lazily, as if testing your patience.

Your back arched involuntarily as he curled his finger inside you, hitting that sweet spot with perfect precision. But it wasn’t enough.

“Please,” you moaned, your voice breathy and needy. Your hands moved up to your breasts, desperate for some sort of relief as you pinched your nipples, but it wasn’t the same as his touch.

“Please what?” Cillian teased, adding another finger as he curled them upward, stroking that spot that made your legs shake. You whimpered, gripping the bed sheets tightly as he continued to work you over, slowly building you up until you were on the verge of begging.

“Please… make me cum,” you gasped, the desperation evident in your voice.

“Well, that would be my pleasure,” he replied nonchalantly, but the look in his eyes was anything but casual. He dipped his head down, his lips finally making contact with your aching clit as his fingers continued their relentless rhythm inside you.

The teasing smirk on his lips was replaced by something more primal as he licked you with expert precision, his tongue flicking against your swollen clit while his fingers stroked your inner walls. Your body reacted instantly, hips bucking toward his mouth as you let out a soft chuckle, overwhelmed by the sensation.

That chuckle quickly turned into a moan as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently before flicking his tongue against it again, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your hands found their way into his hair, pulling him closer as your hips ground against his face. You couldn’t get enough of him, the sight of him between your legs, his mouth devouring you, his eyes dark with lust as he looked up at you.

“Fuck, Cillian,” you gasped, your body writhing beneath him as his hand traveled from your thigh to your breast, kneading the sensitive flesh, making your back arch off the bed. His tongue was relentless, licking and sucking at your clit as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he slipped his fingers back inside you, pumping in and out with a steady rhythm that had your legs shaking. He knew exactly where to touch, where to tease, pushing you right to the brink without letting you fall over.

You were gasping for air, the heat building inside you unbearable as your fingers tangled in his hair. “Please, don’t stop,” you moaned, your voice barely a whisper as you felt your release approaching.

His response was to suck harder on your clit, his fingers stroking that perfect spot inside you with just the right amount of pressure. You could feel your orgasm building, your body tightening as your hips bucked against his mouth, desperate for release.

And then, just as you were about to tip over the edge, he pulled his fingers out of you, replacing them with his tongue. He licked you deeply, drinking in your wetness as he groaned against your core. His other hand reached up to your mouth, slipping two fingers past your lips. You sucked on them greedily, tasting yourself on his skin as your body trembled beneath him.

It was too much. The combination of his tongue on your clit, his fingers in your mouth, and the sight of him between your legs was enough to send you spiraling into ecstasy. You came hard, your arousal gushing into his mouth as your entire body shook with the force of your orgasm.

But Cillian didn’t stop. He licked and sucked at you greedily, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you were a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him. You could barely catch your breath as he kissed his way back up your body, his lips hot and insistent against your skin.

Before you could recover, he was kissing you again, his tongue sliding into your mouth, making you taste yourself on his lips. The kiss was hungry, desperate, as if he couldn’t get enough of you, and you moaned into his mouth, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively.

You could feel the hardness of his cock pressing against your still-sensitive core, and you whimpered, your body aching for him. Cillian groaned softly as he ran the tip of his cock up and down your slick slit, teasing you, making you tremble with anticipation.

He broke the kiss, sitting up slightly to look down at you. The sight of you spread out beneath him, flushed and panting, was almost enough to undo him. He tapped the head of his cock against your clit, and you screamed, the sensation almost too much after everything he’d just done to you.

“Fuck, you’re so sensitive,” he growled, his voice thick with desire. He could see how desperate you were for him, but he wasn’t going to make it easy. He wanted to savor this, to take his time.

“Please… fuck me already!” you demanded, your voice raw with need. You were completely at his mercy, your body aching for him to finally take you, but he just laughed softly, the sound full of cocky satisfaction.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you again as he finally, finally entered you with one hard thrust. You both groaned, the sensation overwhelming as he stretched you, filling you completely.

His pace was slow at first, deliberate, as if he wanted to feel every inch of you. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he hissed, his hands running up your body, admiring every curve, every freckle. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, the way his muscles rippled with each thrust, the way his hair fell messily across his forehead.

He picked up the pace, thrusting deeper into you, his movements becoming more urgent. He grabbed both your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand, while the other hooked your leg over his shoulder, allowing him to go even deeper.

“Cillian… oh, fuck,” you gasped, your body tightening around him as he thrust into you harder, faster. The angle was perfect, each thrust hitting that spot deep inside you that made your legs tremble. “you're so big!” you breathed out, loving the way he was stretching you, unlike any man before.

He released your wrists, leaning down to kiss you again, his lips hot and demanding as he pushed deeper inside you, both of your legs now resting on his shoulders. His thrusts grew more urgent, each one sending a jolt of pleasure through your body, and you couldn’t hold back the moans spilling from your lips. Your nails scraped down his back, leaving red marks in your wake, urging him on.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire as he pounded into you with a frenzied rhythm. “Y/N…” he rasped, his breath coming out in heavy gasps. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum soon…”

You smiled through the haze of pleasure, teasing him even as you teetered on the edge of your own climax. “Yeah?” you whispered, your voice laced with playful heat. His only response was a desperate nod as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, biting and kissing at your skin, marking you.

“Cum inside me,” you begged breathlessly, your hips bucking to meet his frantic thrusts. “Please, Cillian.”

Your words were his undoing. With a guttural groan, he lost control, driving into you hard a few more times before he exploded inside you, his cock twitching as he filled you with his release. The sensation of his warmth spreading inside you pushed you over the edge as well. Your body clenched around him, pulling every last drop from him as you cried out in pleasure.

His groans mixed with your moans as his cum shot deep inside you, strand after strand, filling you until you felt completely full. The sensation left you feeling whole, completely connected to him in a way that felt profound and undeniable. The intensity of it all left you breathless, trembling beneath him as waves of ecstasy rolled through your body.

As the last of his orgasm pulsed through him, Cillian collapsed onto you, his breathing heavy and ragged. You both lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, bodies slick with sweat and hearts racing as you slowly came down from the high. His lips were soft and tender now as he peppered kisses along your shoulder, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across your skin.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself relax in the warmth of his embrace. Everything felt peaceful, like you were exactly where you were meant to be—right here, in his arms, connected in every way.

-

A bright ray of sunshine hit your eyes, making you flinch as you tried to open them. Groaning, you turned over, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over you. Your throat was dry, and your mouth felt parched, each swallow uncomfortable. With a sigh, you grabbed the pillow and pulled it over your head, trying to escape the light and shake off the grogginess that clouded your mind.

Your body felt sore, like you’d been through some grueling full-body workout, every muscle aching in ways that didn’t make sense. As you shifted under the covers, the sheets brushed against your bare skin, and that’s when it hit you—you were naked.

Wait… what?

Confused, you lifted the pillow slightly, squinting in the morning light. That’s when you saw him.

Your heart skipped a beat. There he was, lying next to you—Cillian. His chest rose and fell with each deep breath, the soft sunlight highlighting his features, making him look even more striking than usual. His dark lashes rested against his cheeks, and his tousled hair framed his face perfectly. He looked... peaceful, beautiful even, lying there in your bed.

You quickly ducked back under the pillow, heart racing, your mind whirling as you tried to process what was happening. “Oh my God,” you thought. “Cillian Murphy is in my bed. Naked!”

Fragments of last night began to flood back, and you groaned inwardly as the memories pieced themselves together. The party, the drinks, the effortless conversation that had lasted for hours. You'd felt an instant connection with him—something more than just a casual chat. The teasing, the glances, the flirtation that had built between you like an electric current. You had invited him back to your place, half-joking, never thinking it would actually lead to anything.

But then, one thing had led to another—your flirting, his gentle touch, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the room. And now, here you were, tangled in sheets with the very person you'd admired for so long.

Your stomach fluttered nervously. What now?

tags:

@mamawiggers1980 @xsweetcatastrophe @galactict3a @thistheivyseason @cillianmurphyvevo @sweetcheesecakesblog

[feasibilities]

Afternoon Tea | Jim x Married!Reader

Synopsis: Jim visits his best friend's wife while she's home alone.

Warnings: Soft Fem!Dom, Jealousy, Cheating, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Past Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Guilt

Author's Note: I started classes late last month and had some health issues but I'm doing better. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

Jim’s jealousy towards Chris made no sense. He had a beautiful wife and managed 2 children with her with little issue. Why should he be jealous of a marriage to a younger woman that happened because of a midlife crisis? 

“Hey, Jim. Come in.” You beamed. He loved seeing you smile. 

“Hey.” Jim said softly, taking you in. 

“I just came from yoga class, so excuse my attire. Would you like some tea?” You apologized, walking to the kitchen. 

“Sure, no problem.” He replied, distracted by how your leggings hugged your legs and ass. He took a seat at the table to gather himself. Pouring him a mug, you gave him a dish of sugar and lemon. 

“Thank you.” He said warmly. Curious glances were exchanged between you two before he broke the silence. 

“How have things been with Chris?” He inquired.

“Good, I suppose.” You trailed off. Noticing your apprehension, he decided to pry. 

“You sure?” Jim asked.

“Well, Chris wants to have kids but I would like to wait until I finish graduate school. I get that he’s older but this is really important to me.” You revealed, fiddling with your wedding ring. Jim was humored by your youthful vocabulary.

“Having kids is a big responsibility. Danielle and I met at university but waited until we graduated. I know he can be difficult to deal with at times but someone like you can convince him.” He said, sipping out of the mug. 

“You’re so much easier to talk to.” You said, sitting in the chair adjacent to him. Your gaze lingered on him. You felt butterflies in your stomach as you studied his features. Truthfully, he was much more intriguing than Chris. You hated Danielle for getting to him first. 

“How do you keep things exciting? Chris can be good time but you seem way more fun.” You said, scooting closer to him. 

“Oh, I’m no fun at all.” He said, shaking his head with a smile.

“I think you are.” You spoke softly, touching his arm. He tensed at the contact and sat his mug down. Jim was interested in whatever your plans were but worried about the consequences of fucking his friend’s wife. 

“Uh, I think I should go. It was nice speaking with you. Thanks for the tea.” He said politely, standing up. You grabbed his wrist and led him to the living room. Before he could protest, you shoved him on the couch and began undressing. Jim’s face turned bright red when your bra fell to the floor. This was much better than the time he spied on you taking a shower during a family vacation. His lecherous reminiscence was interrupted by you standing over him. 

“Do you want me, Jim?” You cooed, holding his chin. 

“Yes, I always have.” He answered embarrassingly quick. You climbed onto his lap and kissed him harshly. His large hands moved to your ass and massaged the soft flesh. You nipped at his bottom lip. Jim suddenly flipped you on your back and perched between your legs. He stared at you at like a dog waiting for direction. You quickly realized you could get him to do anything you wanted. 

“Go ahead.” You said. Jim’s tongue swirled around your clit as you yanked at his peppered locks. He took in the redolent scent of your trimmed pubic hair. His hands moved up to your breasts and hovered over them. Noticing his hesitancy, you pressed your hands over his and moaned sweetly. His tongue slipped into your damp heat. His pale blue eyes flickered open and his thumbs teased your nipples. You rocked against his face as you chased your high. After cleaning you off, he sat up to catch his breath. 

“Good boy.” You praised, smearing the moisture on his lips. You pulled him down and straddled him. You hurriedly unbuckled his pants and slid them halfway down his legs. 

“Wait-“ Jim started, wanting to use protection.

“There’s no time.” You whispered, sinking onto his length. A low groan escaped him as you slipped your fingers into his mouth. There was a marked desperation in his eyes. You relished in your newfound power. 

“Suck.” You ordered. You felt him suckle on your fingers gently. Rutting against him, you saw that Jim was already close. His heart was beating rapidly and his hands found the soft flesh of your hips. A tender kiss on his forehead made him fall apart. Hot spurts of his seed spilled into you. You embraced him as he came down from his high. Reality seemed to sink in for him as soon as it was over. He was overwhelmed with guilt and dread at the thought of his friend’s wife carrying his child. 

“I’ll take a Plan B. No worries.” You smiled innocently. 

“I-I have to get back for dinner.” He said nervously. 

“Stay.” You cooed. Despite his obligation, he couldn’t pull away from you more than a second. 

[cillianmurphyfanatic]

Cillian Murphy as William Killick in The Edge of Love (2008) dir. John Maybury

[r1errr]

no, you don’t understand, real girlhood is eating chocolate cupcakes at one am and thinking about the Roman Empire, Sylvia Plath, 45 kg, about Lana Del Rey’s book, Cillian Murphy, finding inspiration for poems, films, Lady Jane Gray, Joan of Arc , why am I so ugly, Greek myths, pomegranate and fig tree, Camilla from secret history, books, self-hatred, will prayers come true, thirst for all the knowledge of the world, twentieth century, symbolism of the deer, fashion, history, and what to do after death

[ellisthomaslavigne]

Breakfast on Pluto era Cillian Murphy, with his headful of curls tucked in a beanie is the definition of boyfriend material 🥹❤️ Draw with alcohol markers and polychromos pencils.

[remembering-angels]

Made the mistake of reading the comments under a tommy shelby video on tiktok. Men shut the fuck up challenge pleaaaase . Shut up shut up.

[secretsandvictorias]

they're not men, they're angels

[cillmurphyslover]

[kikimurphys]

Behind Closed Doors (Part 17)

Pairing: Cillian x Y/N

You choked on your water when you heard her name. "Fuck," you thought, panic seeping in. You were about to meet Cillian's sister—right now. Anxiety washed over you as your mind raced. What if she thought you were just a gold digger after her brother's money? Meeting Cillian's family had always been one of your biggest worries.

Orla stood at the door, waiting for Cillian to greet her, but he seemed to freeze in place.

"What's wrong, Cill?" she asked, noticing his odd reaction.

"Nothing, sorry. Hi, Orla. How are ya?" He quickly recovered, giving her a kiss on the cheek and closing the door behind her.

She carried a few boxes and bags as she made her way to the kitchen. "I'm just passing by to drop this off," she said, placing them on the counter nearest to the kitchen door. "And I bought this set of curtains for Mum and Da, but I don't know if they—" She suddenly noticed you sitting at the kitchen counter and paused, recognition dawning on her face. "Oh, hi," she greeted you with a warm smile as she walked over.

"Orla, this is Y/N. She’s on bed rest, so she's staying with me," Cillian explained, his tone firm, making it clear that you were important to him.

"Why? Are you okay?" Orla asked, concern lacing her voice as she leaned on the table. Her sweet demeanor and well-mannered approach immediately put you at ease. You could tell she was genuinely kind, much like Cillian.

"Yeah, I was hospitalized last week," you began, placing a hand on your belly. "I had some bleeding, but we're okay now. I just have to move as little as possible."

Orla’s eyes softened as she looked at you. "Oh, I’m so sorry. Glad you're well now. Bed rest’s the worst, especially when you get that insane need to nest in the third trimester. Those urges are no joke," she said, raising her hands for emphasis, making you laugh at her playful tone.

There was a brief, awkward silence as the three of you stood in the kitchen, unsure of what to say next. 

“Well," Orla finally broke the silence, patting the boxes she had dropped off. "I was just passing by to leave these. Don’t forget to take them to Cork,” she said, gesturing to the boxes, before handing Cillian the curtains. “And here, what do you think of these? Do you think Mum and Da will like them?” she asked, her expression a little more serious now.

"They're okay, I suppose," Cillian replied with a shrug, clearly not too fussed about curtain shopping. Orla rolled her eyes at his lackluster response, amused by her brother’s indifference.

"Alright, I’m headed off," Orla said, reaching for her coat.

"We were just about to have dinner, if you want to join," Cillian offered, sensing that this could be a good opportunity for you to spend more time with her. "I'm making chicken curry."

"You know what, Cill?" Orla smiled as she settled beside you, pouring herself a glass of wine. "I could go for some of that chicken you make."

As she took a sip of her drink, she turned to you with a curious smile. “So, how far along are you?”

“Almost 22 weeks,” you replied, feeling a bit more comfortable now.

“Ah, halfway already! Do you know what you’re having?” she asked, excitement lighting up her face.

“A girl,” Cillian chimed in from the stove, turning to you both with a proud smile.

“Oh, they’re the best! I had my Nina last year, and it’s so different than having boys,” Orla said warmly.

“How’s baby Nina?” Cillian asked, his eyes softening at the mention of his niece, who was nearly 10 months old.

“She’s exhausting,” Orla sighed dramatically, making both you and Cillian laugh. “She just learned how to get off the bed, and now I can’t close my eyes for a second without her disappearing.”

The evening flowed pleasantly after that. Orla shared stories and showed you pictures of her baby, and you got a glimpse of just how close she and Cillian were. His gentle care for his sister warmed your heart, and the easy dynamic between them made you feel more at ease.

After dinner, fatigue began to weigh on you, and Cillian noticed immediately. He offered to prepare the guest room for you, knowing that it hadn’t been decorated or lived in yet. You thanked him as he left to make the bed, his attentiveness leaving you feeling cared for.

Once Cillian was out of earshot, Orla leaned in closer with a playful, curious smile. “So, how’s my brother been treating you?” she whispered, her tone filled with interest.

You smiled softly. “He’s been very attentive and has helped me so much. He’s a good guy,” you said, genuinely grateful for Cillian’s care.

Orla raised an eyebrow slightly. “And are you two not together then?” she asked, her eyes flicking to the separate room where you'd be sleeping. “I don’t want to be invasive, but Cillian mentioned the situation…”

“No, it’s okay,” you reassured her, appreciating her honesty. “To be honest, I don’t really know,” you added with a small laugh. “We’re taking it slow... just taking our time.”

Orla nodded, understanding. “That makes sense,” she said gently.

“I’m just staying here so he can take care of me if anything happens until my sister arrives. I don’t want to take up too much of his time,” you explained, feeling the need to be transparent.

Orla gave you a knowing look and smiled. “You don’t have to worry about that. Cillian wouldn’t offer if he didn’t want to be there for you. He’s always been a bit of a caretaker, especially for those he cares about.”

Orla’s smile softened as she leaned back slightly, swirling the wine in her glass. “You know,” she began thoughtfully, “even if you two don’t end up together, that baby girl of yours... she’s still part of this family.” Her eyes flickered warmly toward your belly. “And we’ll love her no matter what.”

You blinked, a wave of emotion rushing through you at her words. It was the first time someone from Cillian’s family had said anything about the baby, and hearing that acceptance brought a sense of relief. 

“She’s going to be surrounded by love,” Orla continued, her tone filled with sincerity. “You, Cillian, and the rest of us. Family isn’t always about how things start, but about how you come together in the end. And believe me, we’re here for both of you, no matter what happens between you and my brother.”

Her reassurance eased a knot in your chest that you didn’t realize had been building. “Thank you,” you said quietly, feeling a surge of gratitude. “I’ve been so worried about what people would think... that maybe they’d see me as some sort of... I don’t know.”

Orla waved a hand dismissively. “People will always have something to say. But those who matter—the people in this family—we’ll always have your back. And that little girl... she’s going to have an army of people loving her.”

Hearing that made you feel more welcome than you had expected. “I really appreciate that,” you said, your voice soft but sincere. “It means a lot.”

Orla smiled again, this time with a glint of amusement in her eyes. “Plus, you’re stuck with me now—an honorary sister. We’ll spoil her rotten, you just wait.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at her words. All you wanted in the world was for your baby to be happy and grow up in a loving environment.

Just then, you heard Cillian’s footsteps coming down the hall. “What were you two talking about?” he asked, his brow raised slightly as he entered the kitchen.

“Oh, nothing much, just talking behind your back,” Orla teased, shooting her brother a playful grin. Cillian rolled his eyes, used to her antics.

“The bedroom’s all ready for you,” he told you softly. You nodded, feeling your eyelids growing heavier as the night wore on. "Thanks, Cill."

Orla stood up, gathering her things. “Well, I better head off. Gotta tuck the kids in.” She smiled, giving you a quick hug. “Don’t forget to rest, okay?”

“Of course,” you smiled back, sipping the last of your tea.

Orla turned to Cillian, reminding him once again about the package for Cork. “Don’t forget! You’re as forgetful as ever,” she teased.

“What’s that for?” you asked, glancing at the large box she’d mentioned earlier.

“Cutlery and plates for our parents’ anniversary in October,” she replied. “Their 50th. We’re planning it way ahead.”

“You should bring Y/N,” Orla repeated, looking between you and Cillian. “It’ll be the perfect chance for her to meet everyone at once.”

Cillian’s eyes widened, and he shot you a quick, slightly panicked glance. You could feel anxiety bubbling up in your chest, a knot tightening in your stomach. "Oh no, don't worry about me. I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you blurted out, your voice a bit shaky. Your palms were suddenly sweaty. What would his family even think? You were already pregnant and hadn't met them. What if they judged you? You weren't even sure where you stood with Cillian—how would you explain this to them?

Orla quickly picked up on the tension, her smile softening as she placed a reassuring hand on your arm. “Honestly, don’t stress about it,” she said warmly, sensing your worry. “There’s plenty of time to decide, no pressure. Just something to keep in mind.” She gave you a comforting smile before turning to Cillian, pulling him into a hug as she said her goodbyes.

Cillian moved to the sink to wash up as you quietly made your way to bed. While he scrubbed the dishes, your mind raced. *Would he really want you to meet his family?* You still felt insecure, unsure of your place in his life. Despite all his efforts to show he cared, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you didn’t belong, especially with the baby on the way. He already had a family, a whole life. Sometimes, you felt like an outsider. Or worse, like you were intruding on something that wasn’t meant to be yours.

Meanwhile, Cillian’s thoughts were completely different. As he washed up, the idea of you meeting his family filled him with joy. He could picture you with your baby, surrounded by nephews and cousins, fitting right into the warm, lively chaos that he loved so much. You’d bring a new light into his world, one that had dimmed over the years. You’d made him feel alive again. But he didn’t want to push you. He’d let the idea sit for now, give you time to decide. 

Later, lying in bed, you rubbed belly butter over your growing bump, your mind drifting. The realization that your body would never be the same hit you hard. You wouldn’t say it out loud, but you were terrified. The stretch marks, the weight gain—it all scared you more than you let on.

Cillian, meanwhile, was fussing over the curtains, trying to make the room feel cozier. The space had been bare when you first arrived, just a bed and a mattress. He’d worked tirelessly to make sure you were comfortable, and now he was determined to block out the morning sun.

“Cill, it’s okay,” you laughed softly, watching him work. “I can do that tomorrow. You’ve got work in the morning.”

He shook his head stubbornly, finishing up with the curtains. “No, I don’t want you waking up with the sun in your face at 7 a.m.,” he replied, focused on getting it right.

You grinned, amused by his overprotectiveness. It was a little over the top, but sweet. You felt lucky that he was going to be the father of your child. Once he finished, he stood back, hands on his hips, looking at you with a smitten expression. Seeing you lying there, belly growing with his child, no makeup, just real and vulnerable—it melted his heart.

“All done,” he sighed, dusting off his hands.

“Thanks,” you said, your voice softer now. “Do you have to leave early for work?”

“Yeah, but I should be back by lunchtime,” he replied.

“Well, I’ll let you sleep then,” he said, turning to leave, but something made you stop him.

“Cill?” you called softly. He turned back to you, walking closer.

“Yeah?” he asked gently.

“Thank you,” you said, reaching for his hand, your voice filled with sincerity. “For letting me stay here, for being so good to me. And Orla, too. I was really scared to meet her, but she was so nice. I’m really grateful.”

He smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “You don’t have to thank me for any of that,” he murmured. “Goodnight.”

Your heart fluttered at the softness of his touch, and almost as if in response, the baby kicked. She always seemed to know when you were nervous around him. “Goodnight,” you whispered, rolling over and closing your eyes. The sound of Cillian moving around the house was oddly soothing, and before long, you drifted into sleep.

Cillian went to his room and changed into his pajamas, but after tossing and turning for almost an hour, he gave up on trying to sleep. He padded softly into the living room, careful not to wake you. Opening your door just a crack, he peeked in. You were fast asleep, soft snores escaping your lips, and he couldn’t help but smile. 

He closed the door gently, grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen, and settled on the couch. Turning the TV on with the volume barely audible, he let the low hum of some sitcom wash over him, hoping it would help him fall asleep.

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