#CILLIAN MURPHY

[paradiseprincesss]

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝑷𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹 | Jonathan Crane

𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔪𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢.

𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 — Hello my angels! I haven't posted in a while & I was on a little writing hiatus due putting my mental health first, but I am slowly coming back to writing! I'm not sure when I will write another fic/have the time to, though! Also sorry in advance for any grammar errors as I barely proofread thiiiiiis!

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 — Your mentor, Doctor Jonathan Crane, coerced you into making a sex tape as a means to keep you silent about what you saw, and for the night, you become a star on camera for him.

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 — 2.9k

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 -> 18+ ONLY DUBCON, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), creampie, sex tape, drugging, stockholm syndrome(?), blackmail & coercion

𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You stared at him silently from the bed, unsure what to say next. The atmosphere wasn’t tense by any means, but it was heavy. The air – the air was heavy. Jonathan silently stared you down in his suit, standing beside the blinking camera on a tripod. 

This wasn’t your idea. You’d have never agreed if he hadn’t forced you to.

But somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered if you’d made the decision long before he even mentioned it.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Jonathan Crane was your colleague – or rather mentor. You had been offered a position to work under the renowned Doctor at Arkham Asylum at the beginning of your practicum last month, and although most people would shiver at the thought of working with the criminally insane, you jumped at the opportunity. This would most definitely advance your chances of getting a coveted job post-graduation, and you were willing to do whatever it took. 

The last few weeks had been chaotic but thrilling; you’d shadow Crane around Arkham as he treated his patients and wrote down evaluations — whatever he was doing for the day. However, one evening, you went to his office to ask him a question you’d had, only to walk into a scene that caused your jaw to drop. 

Lay slumped over on Jonathan’s office desk was a patient – patient #20373 to be precise – who appeared to be…not breathing. Your eyes darted from the patient to Crane himself, who was now rushing to slam and lock the door to his office behind you. You don’t quite remember everything that happened after that. 

One thing you do remember though – and you doubt you’ll ever forget – is waking up in a cushiony room on a bed, groggy and half awake until Jonathan came into your line of vision. You tried to cry, or sob, or do anything, really, but your mind was going four ways and you couldn’t seem to process what was happening. 

“Did you drug me?” You rasped with watery eyes, your hands reaching to your throat out of instinct. 

“I did what had to be done. What you saw – what you think you saw…” He corrected himself, “I can’t risk anyone finding out about that.” 

“I- Okay, I won’t tell anyone, just please–”

He shushed your panicked voice as he eyed you down the way a predator would do to its prey. “I want to trust you, I do — but I can’t.” 

You watched as he stepped closer to you, and you noticed that even though you wanted to run, your body was seemingly too weak. Too heavy.

“I’m working on a clinical trial,” he informed you. “I’m observing the neurological patterns of patients exposed to their deepest, darkest fears. Unfortunately, like with all clinical trials, there are sometimes…flukes. Accidents. Some patients don’t react properly to the medication in the way we want them to. Dosage errors, genetic factors, allergies…the list goes on. What you think you saw was just that — a medical error.” 

You tried to talk, but for some reason, you couldn’t – you were floored, to say the least. He seemed to take notice of this, and he cooed softly as he came to pet your head gently. “I know,” he feigned sympathy, “you must be so out of it.”

“What did you do to me?” You choked out, failing to swat his hand away from you. “How–?”

“A fast-acting sedative and a small syringe,” he interrupted, before letting out a soft chuckle. “Poor thing, you were out cold before your brain could even register what was happening.”

“You…God, you’re fucking sick.” You let out a choked sob as he smirked at you, clearly amused. 

“I’d like to return to our previous topic of discussion.” His tone shifted back into his usual, clinical one. “Although I'm quite certain you won’t speak a word of what you saw earlier to anyone, I need something from you. Think of it as an eye for an eye — that sort of thing.”

Blackmail, you thought to yourself, he wants blackmail so that he can have something to hang over my head. 

At that very moment, you noticed a camera propped up on a tripod in the corner of the room, causing your mouth to go dry. 

“You– Doctor Crane, you don’t have to do this…” You almost whispered as a tear ran down your cheek at the realization of the type of blackmail he had in mind.

“Jonathan,” he corrected, “I’d like to believe we’re on a first-name basis by now, wouldn’t you?” He sighed, looking at you through his glasses with his steel blue eyes. You’d be lying if you said you never found him even slightly attractive, and sure…maybe you’d fantasized about him once or twice in bed all alone at night, but what you had in mind was different – innocent. It was just that; a fantasy. 

“I–I don’t know what you want from me,” you stammered, feeling your stomach twist in knots. 

“What do I want from you?” His voice dropped to a near-whisper. “Simple. You and I are going to make a little…project. Something personal. Something memorable.” You felt sick as you failed to form a response. “You’re awfully quiet, sweetheart. I thought you’d have more to say, perhaps even put up a fight.” 

“You’re disgusting,” you spat, finding your voice again. “I’ll never—”

“You will,” Jonathan interrupted, his tone sharp and menacing. He smiled softly at you, a juxtaposition to his cruel, mocking tone from mere minutes ago, and he was eerily calm. “Because if you want to keep even a shred of your dignity, your reputation, your job, or your life—”

“Fine,” you panicked as he went on with the list and gave in as your voice dropped to a whisper, “just…just don’t hurt me.”

He smiled faintly. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

He didn’t bother waiting for you to reply before moving the camera and tripod to the edge of the bed, watching you like a hawk to make sure you didn’t even dare to attempt to get up or do anything that would indicate you would try and fight back. 

Once he set everything up, you looked at him with watery eyes, which caused him to feign worry and coo mockingly at you. He towered over you as he stood at the edge of the bed where you sat, and he took your face into his hands, forcing you to look up at him. 

“I want to hear you talking dirty.” His words sent a chill down your spine, and even though you’d tried to break eye contact, he forced you to look at him once more. “I want to feel you put the work in.” 

“Please—”

“I want to watch you entertain.” 

You watched as he turned his attention back to the camera and tripod. He toyed with it momentarily before it made a small beep sound, and a flashing red light started to blink. 

“Is it on?” Your voice noticeably trembled.

“Yeah, it’s on.” His voice was eerily relaxed.

Your hands were shaking – which you hadn’t even realized until now – and you nodded, unable to do much more. He didn’t say anything yet, but he looked at you with a menacing stare, causing your blood to run colder than it already was.

You weren’t even sure you had a pulse at this point.

“Strip,” he suddenly ordered, causing you to grimace. “Fucking strip.” 

Scrambling on the bed with your eyes darting from the camera back to Jonathan, you do as told with trembling hands. Hastily, you attempted to rid yourself of your clothing before you choked on a gasp as you felt Jonathan yank you back by your hair with a harsh grip. 

“Slowly,” he purred, knuckles going white with how hard he was gripping onto your hair, before letting go after what felt like a lifetime. “I want you to savour the moment you gave yourself up to me.” 

You didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth – that, yes, you’d given yourself to him long before this moment. Not with your body, but with every line you let him blur until you could no longer tell where you ended, and he began. 

You gave yourself up to him unknowingly when you caught him “treating” his patients with his fear toxin on countless other occasions and yet, you didn’t say a word because you were blindsided by how pathetically attracted you were to him. 

This time, you just happened to get caught, and he acted on impulse, forcing you to surrender.

But this wasn’t really surrender. This was inevitability.

Once you were left in just your underwear, you were a shivering, doe-eyed mess. Although, it seemed Jonathan preferred you this way. “You’re such a good girl,” he cooed, hands coming to brush up against your neck gently. “God, you truly are pretty.” 

His words were sickeningly sweet; as if he wasn’t keeping you here, forcing you to film a sex tape as blackmail for yourself. 

But was it force when you’d handed him the reins so long ago, piece by trembling piece?

“You're so soft,” he mumbled, placing a delicate kiss on your cheek as he moved your hair out of the way, exposing your neck, to which he placed another kiss.

“...Jonathan, please.”

Your voice came out soft – quiet – and it had this tremble within it because you were free-falling. One moment he had you quivering in fear, and the next, he was the same soft-spoken, intellectual, kind mentor you had found rather endearing before all…this. Perhaps it was your mind playing tricks on you, maybe it was even a coping mechanism – but if it helped you believe that you didn’t somehow allow yourself to let him do this to you, then you welcomed that idea. 

Psychology is interesting. Human behaviour is interesting. 

“I know you better than you know yourself,” he whispered against your skin, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up as you shut your eyes. “Don’t lie to me — you love this. I’ve seen you snooping around my office, I know you’ve looked in my file cabinets…”

He continued speaking softly – not in a menacing way – but rather in a reassuring way, like he knew who you really were underneath this facade you put up. “I know that you know what I do within the walls of Arkham when nobody is looking — well, nobody except for you.”

“You’re so vile,” you whispered, leaning into his touch as you let his hands roam your body in front of the camera, not even attempting to deny it. 

“You’re just as vile for letting me do this to you,” he nipped your neck, causing you to let out a startled moan. “You know whose blood is on my hands, yet you let those same hands touch you.” 

The lines between sex, lies, and the ugly truth blurred in an instant as your hands found his shoulders. With a sharp pull, you placed your lips on his. Before he could react, you tugged him down onto the bed, the weight of him pressing against you like the inevitability of everything you’d already surrendered.

“Show me who you are,” he whispered, getting just enough distance between your lips in his to get the words out, and you didn’t need to be told twice. 

You pressed your lips up against his once more, feeling him intertwine his hands into your hair this time around. Your nails dug into his suit as you desperately tried to tug him out of it, falling deeper into the unholy temptation that was Jonathan Crane. He continued to kiss you as you rid him of his clothes, and in between kisses, you straddled him as his hands found purchase on your hips. 

You pulled back momentarily, glancing at him and noticing his glasses were slightly fogged up, but his eyes were still ever so blue through them. You smiled slightly before you started to unbutton his white, collared shirt that was under his suit jacket, while simultaneously trying to remove his tie fully.

Jonathan had no objections – he wanted to see how dirty you were willing to be. How filthy you would get on film…and that sparked an idea in his head.

Jonathan suddenly slammed you down onto the mattress within seconds, his shirt half undone and his tie hanging off his neck lazily before he was tugging your lace panties down your thighs. This was the moment that he decided even if he was supposedly blackmailing you, he needed to have his face buried in between your legs. 

“Jonathan,” you panted, looking down at him between your legs, his brilliantly blue eyes now much darker. “Wh-what are you doing?” 

He tossed your underwear to the side, offering no response before diving right in, devouring your cunt skillfully as his tongue darted through every single inch of you. You let out a sharp gasp before it turned into a moan. It was almost disgusting how good he was with his mouth. 

“Fuck,” you whined, hips arching upwards so that he could taste all of you, down to the last drop. 

“Delicious.” 

His voice was muffled as he ate you out, savouring the taste of you against his tongue. He knew exactly what he was doing, but it was too late to try and save yourself now – not that you really made any attempt before because here you were; getting eaten out by a man who supposedly drugged you and forced you into getting fucked on camera but hey,  it happens to the best of us... 

He licked your folds, gently nipping on your thighs or pressing kisses to them, before diving back into you as he lapped you up. Soon enough, you felt that familiar feeling in your stomach starting to build up as he sucked your clit gently, causing you to let out a rather loud moan. 

“I’m close,” you warned as your back arched off the mattress again, causing his grip on your thighs to become harsher, keeping you there. “God–”

He hummed in acknowledgement as you felt your release hit you all at once. He continued to eat you out as if you were his final meal until you were a shaking mess, begging him to give you a break as your legs shook.

Before you even had a chance to fully recover, you found yourself in yet another position he manhandled you into, this time face down ass up – and looking right at the camera. You heard his belt unbuckle from behind you before you let out a quiet gasp, feeling him line himself up with your entrance. 

You were plenty wet at this point, so soaked you could certainly feel yourself dripping down your thighs. Jonathan pushed himself into you desperately, filling you up fully with one, quick stroke before his hands gripped your hips. Your eyes screwed shut as he stretched you out around his cock, slamming his hips into your ass as he fucked you into oblivion. 

You babbled and moaned into the mattress as you felt yourself soak his length. He then grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look at the camera with wide eyes and an already fucked out expression as he continued to plow you.

“Fuck,” he huffed, “you take cock like a professional. Atta’ girl.” 

The way his cock was angled inside of you was perfection. It was that perfect mixture of pleasure and pain that made it feel so good when he was fucking you – ruining you – and rearranging your insides. You could physically feel every inch of him fill you and stretch you out around his thickness, pounding you until you lost your ability to think about anything other than him filling your holes twenty-four fucking seven.

“Jonathan,” you feverishly said his name before letting out a moan so pornographic, that it even caught Jonathan by surprise – a good surprise though, nonetheless. You continued to beg him to fuck you harder and harder, pleading with him for God knows what. “I need— nnghh – need you to fill me, yes—!’

“You’re a fuckin’ natural at this,” he gruffed, feeling himself edge closer to his release. “Look at you go, you’re such a slut, aren’t you, baby? Show the camera what a good girl you become when you’ve got my cock in you.”

“Mmm,” you drawled out a few more breathy moans before neither of you could go any longer. 

Jonathan cursed under his breath before he filled you up with his come, stuffing you full of it as his thrusts slowed down. Simultaneously, you were clenching down on him as you drenched his cock with his hands still intertwined in your hair lazily. 

You stared at the red light which was still blinking before Jonathan finally let his grip on your hair go, making you sigh with relief. He was still buried in your warm, wet cunt as you looked over your shoulder, silently admiring the way his blue eyes pierced through you. His hair was slightly dishevelled and you could’ve sworn his cheeks were a bit pink, but you were soon pulled out of your thoughts as he let out a soft, breathy laugh.

“You’re a fuckin’ star, babydoll.” 

But the difference between a pornstar and you? They know what they’ve signed up for. 

You on the other hand? You’re drowning in a role written for you, simply too blind to see who’s holding the pen.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

[darlingsfandom]

It’s all “Acting”

anon: I was wondering if you could write a request for cnc with Cillian, where he and reader are doing a hot scene for peaky blinders in a different scenario (like the one with lizzie in the canal), but the scene gets too steamy irl?

TW: CNC, age gap and people watching

It started with just a small kiss behind the scenes one night, it never meant to end up like this. You stood face to face with Cillian, lipstick smeared with your hands on his shoulders. Cillian had his hands on your waist as the two of you stood making eye contact.

“This isn’t actually happening…” you whispered before a small chuckle left his lips.

“But it is darlin! It’s been six months since we started working together and you, you are perfect.” He looked at you like a lovesick puppy. It was a secret that the two of you had started dating only after three months of working together , but when you spend all your time with someone on and off set it wasn’t hard to imagine.

“I know I know, but it’s just crazy! I mean you’re old enough to be…”

“I know I’m old enough to be yer father .” Cillian playfully rolled his eyes while fixing your lipstick because you two were about to walk onto set as normal and shoot a scene that would be sensual. You shook your head before he helped you fix your nightgown and snuck in a little kiss on your shoulder making you giggle.

The two of you walked onto set, Cillian let you walk on first , wait a minute or two and then come in himself that way no one would know none the wiser. You were laid up in the sheets with an old book in your hand pretending to read when he leaned against the door frame with his forehead against his arm as he watched you. The thing was that the scene hadn’t even started shooting and he wanted nothing more than to ravish you right then and there. The glow of the lighting, the perfume you had on and how soft you looked was driving him mad.

“And … action!” The director yelled out making you shiver because you knew what was coming.

Cillian straightened up, walked forward and stopped at the edge of the bed with a raised eyebrow. “That was quite a stunt you tried to pull during dinner darling.” He stepped towards you , grabbed the book from your hands and set it down. You tilted your head with a bit of a sour expression.

“You think that was a stunt? Oh my love you are mistaken. I promise…” your finger tips trailed up his bare chest, “that what you called a stunt will have that investor back here by tomorrow morning.” His lips curved into a smirk before a laugh left his throat .

“Oh you better hope so …”

“Or what? I might not be an intimidating man but a Shelby woman and that is even more dangerous!” Your lips brushed against his before he cupped your jaw.

To those shooting the scene the two of you were just doing your job but what was really happening was between the two of you.

His hands grabbed your hips while pushing you back onto the sheets. The two of you locked lips, kissing lovingly , carefully nipping at each others lips while he grabbed the blanket to cover the lower halves of your bodies. This wasn’t the first time the two of you had actually got into the scene so he knew what he was doing.

“Relax.” He whispered into your ear as his mouth moved down the side of your jaw, across your throat and inbetween your cleavage. Soft whimpers left your lips to which he nipped at your skin to remind you that you’re not alone. Cillian kept his face between your breasts inhaling your perfume as his hands worked their magic below the blanket.

His fingers trailed slowly up your thighs, breath hitched in your lungs as you felt his fingers tease the lining of your nightgown before lifting it up enough to look at the fact you did not put anything under neath. He furrowed his eyebrow a little but still kept a straight face that way no one would know. Cillian swiped his fingers through your wetness that had been dripping slowly down your thighs since he had kissed you. You cheered your cheek while he slid two fingers into you easily since he knew you could take it.

He watched your face closely as it twisted while he twisted his fingers inside of you. Cillian didn’t take it easy either, he worked his fingers faster inside of you making you buck your hips so the rough palm of his hand rubbed against your clit. Your toes curled into the sheets while he pressed down your pelvis. Cillian adjusted his boxers so he could easily pull out his cock and pumped it slowly before he pulled out his fingers, licked them clean and lined up the head of his cock to your swollen folds.

“Fu…” His lips attached to yours before you could finish that thought. He always stretched you out at first when he fucked you but not this time! It hurt more than normal, but that’s probably because you had to lay there and just take it. You couldn’t spread your legs, no wrapping them around his waist or throwing them over his shoulders, you had to be a lifeless doll in a sense. Your hands grabbed his arms as he pushed his cock all the way inside you. His own moans were swallowed up by your kisses.

Cillian gave you a moment before he started thrusting into you. Luckily this scene did call for it to be a little rough, however Cillian knew if he got rough it would be a dead give away of what was happening since you liked it rough. Your hand slid up his arms and around his neck, applying some pressure which made his eyes roll back into his head with a sly smile on his face. His thrusts did pick up a little and you whimpered just enough that made Cillian squeeze your hips until they bruised .

The two of you kept eye contact as he pushed his cock deep inside of you harder. His hands moved up your stomach , over your breasts and put them on either side of your head for balance as his mouth hung open. You wanted to scream his name but you couldn’t. He couldn’t hold back his thrusting anymore and actually started to fuck you hard making your eyes roll back as your lips parted. He wanted to let loose and give you everything he has in him but he can’t. Normally he wouldn’t care like that time in the bathroom while having diner with your friends or the time he fingered you during a script reading, or just like last week when you woke up from your nap with his cock deep in you as he was filling you up with his warm load but this was a tv set after all with cameras which reminded him that he needed to ask you about making a sex tape but that was later, this was now and right now he was enjoying how good his cock felt being squeezed by your warm wet cunt.

You could tell he was close by the way his thrusts were getting sloppy, how his eyes were closing and how he was trying to hide his face into your neck. Your nails scratched his back as your own orgasm was sneaking up on you. You squeezed your eyes shut as you bit your bottom lip and relaxed enough to cum on his cock. The feeling of you cumming had Cillian panting hard into the crook of your neck while his own orgasm washed over him. His hot load filled you to the brim, the liquid dripping down your legs as he hugged you tightly.

“And.. Scene! Very good, very realistic.” The director clapped as the two of you laid there with smirks on your faces.

“It’s called Acting.” Cillian chuckled before he looked at you and gave you a playful wink.

[remembering-angels]

The day I get tired of cillian murphy playing a traumatised cunty bitch with a cigarette ,know that it isn't me, shoot me .

[bambiiaangel]

‧₊ . 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ . ✮ ˚ ⋅

[cherrycranes]

Gringo Boyfriend: Feliz Navidad (Neil Lewis x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Neil Lewis x Fem!Reader Summary: You bring your american boyfriend Neil to your family home in Mexico to spend christmas (and keep it quiet when you wanna get freaky) Word count: 5,329 Contents: (Minors DNI). Reader is mexican and has a loving family. A LOT of mexican traditions and yapping. Oral sex (male receiving), orgasm denial. A pause between both sex scenes. P in v, protected sex, fingering, quiet sex. You do all of this in your parents' house btw. Author's notes: This fanfic is written in collaboration with my dear @honeydew-angel and is a part 2 of the Gringo boyfriend fic! Merry christmas babies!

The big light-up speaker one of your uncles had settled on a corner blasted songs from La Sonora Dinamita that barely covered the sounds of chatter and laughter. Introducing your gringo boyfriend to your family in Mexico was a success, despite the language barrier. 

Neil, "el gringo" or "el güero", as your relatives called him, was the novelty of the Christmas function this year. Everybody wanted to talk to him in varying degrees of English proficiency. Your cousins held perfectly fine convos with him, your older relatives tried their best. You could add "live translator" to your resume from that point forward.

He was real sweet, everybody charmed by both his attitude and, of course, his beautiful baby blue eyes. Your grandmother made him stop blinking for about a minute so she could admire the color up close and reminisce about a long dead relative of hers who also had blue eyes. Then Neil's eyeballs were immediately hit with the cool December night breeze again as your little cousins got curious about blue eyes too. He let them, picking the littlest one up so he could see them better.

For being such an angel, Neil got treated to delicious snacks. Chilli powder covered peanuts, bites of crunchy buñuelos and a small cup of creamy apple salad to not starve while awaiting for the main dinner. The prospect of having this every Christmas of his life from that point forward only reinforced Neil’s determination to wife you up one day. 

Once everyone had their time getting to know, admire, and tease your boyfriend, you pulled him away from your aunts and cousins to introduce him to the most important and special people in your life. You were nervous about how they would treat and like Neil. You knew your grandparents well; they were like second parents to you. This made you anxious about knowing their opinion of him.

You approached them in a little corner, somewhat isolated from all the noise and chatter. Neil quickly sensed that you were nervous, so he said he would go to the car to grab something. He had the excellent idea to bring little gifts for each of your relatives, one more significant than the other, since he didn’t know them very well yet but immediately knew what to give your grandparents—some DVDs of the most beloved and famous Pedro Infante movies, which your grandparents adore.

He returned with a small Christmas gift bag, and you assumed it had the classic 50s golden-era films. This seemed to calm you down since it was a perfect way for him to approach your grandparents. Holding Neil’s hand, you led him to sit next to them in that quiet corner. You let go of his hand to greet them with a kiss and a hug—how much you had missed them. Neil watched the heartwarming scene, feeling a bit awkward, unsure of what to do.

After asking them how they had been, you grabbed Neil’s hand and introduced him in Spanish. 

“Abuelitos, él es Neil, mi novio”. (‘Grandparents, this is Neil, my boyfriend.’) You said with a little embarrassment in your tone. Bringing Neil close, he tried to introduce himself in spanish. 

“Hola, m-mucho gusto, soy Neil”. (‘Hi, nice to meet you, I’m Neil.’) Your grandparents laughed a little seeing how nervous Neil was. 

They introduced themselves in Spanish, saying it was a pleasure to finally meet the man that everyone is talking about, while Neil, making a big effort to comprehend, just nodded with a big blush on his cheeks. You found it endearing how nervous he looked, with his cheeks turning red and the way he was trying so hard to understand.

Neil, taking the initiative, moved closer to your grandparents. With great effort and good memory, he repeated the words you had taught him the night before while you were cuddled in bed. 

"Es un pequeño regalo... p-para ustedes," (‘This is a little gift… F-for you.’) he said, struggling to find the words and with the pronunciation, his face full of both a shy smile and embarrassment. Your grandparents laughed and took the gift. You added that the idea for the gift had been Neil’s.

Your grandparents opened the small bag and found five DVDs of their favorite Pedro Infante movies inside. They were surprised, and your grandfather stood up and hugged Neil. Neil responded, now feeling more relaxed after seeing their positive reaction. Ya lo amaban.

"Muchas gracias, mija, qué bonito detalle de parte de ustedes dos, pero no creas que con esto me va a gustar tu güero, eh!!" (‘Thank you so much, sweetie, what a nice gift from you two. But don’t think that with this I’ll finally like your white guy, eh!’) Your grandfather’s comment made you laugh, while your grandmother rolled her eyes and told you not to listen to him. She hugged both you and Neil.

Neil, confused about what was happening, asked you what they had said. Feeling a little guilty for forgetting that he didn’t understand, you explained, and he just smiled. The four of you spent more time sitting together, catching up with your grandparents, and sharing a bit about how you and Neil met and how obsessed he had become with the old Mexican 50s golden cinema movies. You felt proud of that.

Neil felt at home. Knowing that the family of his beloved girlfriend already treated him like part of their own made him feel that he could get used to this.

When your grandparents’ attention was required towards different conversations, your little cousins, finding Neil just as likable as a new toy, came up to him to play. The sight of Neil picking them up, giving them piggy back rides and playing with them outside made your guts whine and beg. He was so patient, so fun, all the potential of being a good dad shining through and giving your insides a longing that did not care for time, money and your current life situation. 

“One baby, just one, please” they cried, volume intensifying at the sound of your boyfriend’s laughter and your little cousins’ overjoyment. You shushed your instincts as best as you could, nearly distracted from the general life conversation with an aunt, but ultimately, you failed. Your eyes always found their way to Neil playing with the kids and everything yours ached and yearned. And while you wouldn’t satisfy the nearly cavewoman-y need to have Neil’s babies right now as your own logical thinking got in the way, there were other things you could and would do.

You couldn't resist the urge of your own necessities as a woman, how could one have a straight face and suppose to feel nothing, watching a man both handsome and cute, treating children as his own? One could never! So you excused yourself with one of your aunts giving her a vague excuse of needing to show something to Neil. 

You made your way to the backyard, where Neil was playing with your little cousins. You just couldn't contain yourself anymore. Watching the way the kids adore him, it was driving you mad insane. So you told your little cousins Neil needed to do something really important, they nodded with a pout on their faces.

“¿Me prometes que vas a volver?” (Do you promise you’ll be back?) The littlest one asked him. Somehow Neil understood that and just nodded, saying “yes, I promise”. You grabbed him by the hand and gave him a mischievous look, guiding him to the upstairs bathroom, you were too clever to do all the depraved things in the downstairs guest bathroom.

Neil, oh, Neil, always a good boy, following you around without any doubt, doing whatever you want when you want it. Doing all the things he could possibly do to make and see you happy. Little does he know what was about to happen.

Once you made sure nobody followed and watched you enter the same bathroom with Neil. You furiously grabbed him by his ugly sweater and pushed him onto you with a passionate kiss. Neil couldn't contain the little whimper that escaped from his soft lips. The savageness with which you pulled him, already making him hard. He struggled to keep up with your needy pace, between kisses he managed to say something. 

“B-baby!,” another kiss. “Baby! W-we, we need to stop!” He opened his mouth, already full of desire, to catch a breath once you pulled apart from his now swollen lips to just look at him intensely into his eyes. This made him flinch. “Uhmm, I- your, I mean—y-your family will suspect where we are!” 

He was all red and flustered, struggling to find the words and maintain eye contact with you. Finding his stuttering a turn on, and the way his mouth heavy opened in search of air. You pulled his ugly sweater off the way and made your way to kiss his neck. You knew how your teasing little kisses excited him a little too much. 

You started by the crook of his neck. Alternating between going to his weak spot—the back of his neck, and going down. Provoking anytype of whimper and whine from him. Leaving a mark right beside his neck mole. How cruel of you. You were enjoying this a little too much. By the time passing, Neil was growing needy. He grabbed you by your hip and pushed you against the wall turning you around, he returned the teasing kisses to your neck. Trying to take off your matching ugly sweater, but you didn't let him. Instead you pushed him, again, into the sink counter. 

Taking his ugly sweater off, your hands making its way to caress and to leave a way of goosebumps throughout his chest. You focused a little too much on his sensitive nipples. You looked straight into his eyes and without hesitation you leaned and suckled one of his nipples. Neil felt like he was about to cum in his pants. You have never tried something like this before, but he sure liked it. He almost moaned by the sensation of your soft lips licking and teasing one of his nipples, he tried to hold back anytype of sound emitting from his lips. You pulled apart and whispered something into his ear. 

“Oh, amor, you have no idea what you did to me out there”. Neil felt like he would explode right there and then.

“Sweetie, I-I have no idea of what you're talking about”. You just giggled. 

One of your hands going down to touch his clothed crotch. This took Neil by surprise, he held back his whimper.

 “Oh!, sweetie, you better stop or someone will come for us”. You didn't respond, to focus on rubbing your hand against his hard clothed cock. Starting to unbuckle the belt, you fell onto your knees. Looking up at him with wide innocent eyes. 

“Hmmm, baby-y, come on, we can't, your famil-” you didn't let him finish his sentence, because you pulled out his cock and give the tip little love kisses. Tasting the sweet flavour of his precum. 

“Ohh, fuck, sweetie, that feels so good”. That gave you more motivation to continue and to lick and suck his thick and large cock like the most delicious mango with chamoy and miguelito ice cream. Neil made a fist with your hair and guided your head up and down at his own pace. 

“Hmm, baby. Come on sweet thing, don't stop.”

You were a mess, drooling down your own spit and sweating a little for the effort. You pulled out for breath, Neil whined and made you go back to aggressively suck his cock. You weren't planning on letting him cum. You  felt Neil twitch inside your warm mouth, that indicated you to pull apart. 

“Mmph! Oh! Sugar. I-I’m about to come. Please! Please don't stop!” He pouted, his mouth into an agape waiting for his silent release. And then you suddenly pulled apart. This seems to make Neil groan. Looking down at you with needy eyes.

“Baby! W-why did you stop?!”. With the same innocent doe eyed gaze and teasing look in your eyes. You stand up, cleaning all the drool you had left on your mouth. Neil was too confused and desperate. 

“What? I thought that was what you wanted after all, precioso.” You didn't even give him a chance to fight back, because you opened the door and walked away. Leaving him all needy, bothered and unsatisfied. You can't deny it though, you are dripping wet and your panties are soaked. You didn't focus on your pleasure, sure there will be more time for that…

You weren't aware of how long you had been over there just teasing and overstimulating your sweet needy boyfriend, when you came downstairs, you noticed how busy all your family was, putting everything into place, accommodating the expensive crockery and silverware on the table and getting everything ready to eat. You felt relieved for a moment, nobody noticed the large amount of time you two were gone.

Poor Neil and his hard cock had to stay extra time in the bathroom, little whimpers muffled by his lip bite as you nonchalantly helped your grandmother to set the table down for dinner. You smiled to yourself, bottles of apple cider and glass cups clinking against the table. Nearly a buffet of several dishes made by your mom, your grandma, your aunts and even your cousins presented in different styles of containers for everyone to choose from. 

“Neil! Amor!. Time for dinner!” You called out for him so innocently yet chuckling pure mischief out of your system. Reluctantly and tucked as best as he could under his pants and ugly matching sweater, Neil emerged from the bathroom. One of his hands rubbed the side of your arm with a clear cute complaint. You smiled and pretended to not understand, taking him to the table to now add “culinary expert guide” to your set of skills. 

One by one, you explained what the dishes were, some more familiar to him than others: turkey with stuffing, baked pork leg bathed in sauce, tamales, mixiotes, mashed potatoes, cabbage salad and creamy spaghetti, along with a variety of homemade salsas. 

Your guidance was meant to be a saving grace for his white guy palate. Whatever was too spicy for him was going to be a no, but Neil didn't want to look ungrateful. That was the story of the first time he experienced "enchilarse": getting overwhelmed by the spiciness and feeling like his tongue burnt.

“¿Qué le pasa al güero?” (‘What’s up with the white guy?’) An uncle asked with just the slightest bit of concern but mostly just amusement, swirling a styrofoam cup of hot fruit punch in his hand.

“Se enchiló.” (‘He got overwhelmed by the spiciness’), you explained just as calmly, with Neil trying his best to act brave and downing his second glass of ice cold coke. 

Your uncle laughed and went his way, leaving you two alone for less than a minute. Neil had not yet recovered from the fire on his tongue when one of your aunts called you both over, a colorful star piñata on her arms and a pack of cousins urging you on.

“So… When it’s your turn, what you’re gonna do is grab that broomstick and hit the piñata with all your pent up rage, baby. Easy!” You explained, guiding Neil by the hand. Your tallest uncle worked the pulley system out in the yard, crepe paper of all the color spectrum dangling and flicking over.

“Don’t you have to be blindfolded for this?” Neil asked, his source, as usual, being the movies.

“Ehh…. Some people do it but, honestly, knowing my cousins… It’s not a good idea…” You grimaced, visions of flying broomsticks and accidental hits filling your head before you shook them all off. 

“Anyways! We sing this song every time somebody comes to hit it. Just… Clap your hands for now…” You smiled, granting him some mercy. Your poor gringo barely knew a few words in Spanish, how would you ask him to sing a whole song? 

“Yeah, babe. Don’t worry. In no time I’ll even be singing rancheras.” Neil smirked, that sweet lovely smirk of his that made your knees weak. You chuckled, where did he learn that from? Probably from one of the many golden era Mexican movies he had watched ever since he first met you. You leaned closer, placing a loving peck on his rosy lips. He hummed in delight, adoration coursing through the veins of his hands that cupped your beautiful face. Suddenly, an auntie patted you on the back.

“¡Déjense ahí, que ya van a partir la piñata!” (‘Knock it off, they’re gonna break the piñata!’) Your aunt exclaimed, your youngest cousin holding a paper decorated broomstick with the help of his mom. Settling with Neil by the sidelines, the whole “dale, dale, dale, no pierdas el tino” chant started, with your boyfriend so graciously marking the beats. 

Organized by age, your younger relatives took turns hitting the piñata, some just grazing it, some knocking whole sections off its structure and making them hit the ground. During your turn, Neil cheered as if you were running an olympic marathon. Sweet on his behalf, although the damage done to the piñata was rather minimal for its dying state. It needed a mercy blow from a guy with strong arms… and pretty blue eyes.

Your family cheered for “el güero”, Neil took the broomstick with charming awkwardness and gave it a tentative blow before hitting the cardboard with a loud thud. 

“Yeah, baby!” You cheered in between chants, Neil’s softball experience shining through with his final blow. Candies of all kinds, pieces of paper and cardboard flew all over the yard in a longed-for rain. Everybody, even your family members who didn’t even take a turn to hit the piñata, rushed to pick something off the floor. Neil’s big hands cradled fistfuls of bubblegum, lollipops, and chocolates that would go straight to one of the cones from the piñata that you rescued from the ground to use as a makeshift goodie bag. 

When everybody’s hunt for candy ended and after a second piñata was brought over the pulley system, Neil found his new title as the piñata finisher of your family from that point forward. A new good amount of candy filled your colorful cone. Neil, being a gentleman, gave you everything he picked up. 

After everyone had fun with the piñata and your younger cousins were fighting over who got the most candy, it was time for the most special and intimate moment as a family: opening the gifts! You had a tradition—after dinner and breaking the piñata, it was usually around 1 or 2 in the morning. That meant it was no longer Christmas Eve but officially Christmas. Time for the presents.

Of course, the youngest ones in the family didn’t waste any time. They rushed to the Christmas tree, eagerly searching for gifts with their names on them. Once they found them, your uncles and aunts took pictures of the huge smiles on their faces when they saw they had received what they wanted.

Then it was time for the adults! The tradition was to start with the youngest and work up to the oldest. A few of your younger cousins went first, their faces lighting up with big smiles as they unwrapped the thoughtful gifts they’d been given. Then it was your turn—and Neil’s.

Neil had the idea to start by giving out the gifts you had brought from the U.S. Naturally, everyone was curious and excited to see what you had brought. Neil, frustrated by his inability to communicate in Spanish, left the talking to you. He stood firmly by your side, holding your hand tightly, as if he thought you might run away.

"Familia, Neil y yo pensamos en cada uno de ustedes y trajimos regalos para todos, espero que les gusten!" (Family, Neil and I thought about each one of you and brought you gifts for everybody, I hope you like them!) You said, a huge smile on your face. Neil was captivated watching how happy you were being with your family. It made him want to be part of it forever.

Neil started handing out the gift bags and boxes to your family. Occasionally, he mixed up the names, but you were always there by his side to help him. When everyone began unwrapping their gifts one by one, the room was filled with laughter and exclamations: "Se la rifaron, prima," "Gracias, güero y prima!" "¿Cómo lo supieron?" "¡Está chidísimo, gracias, mija!" along with the sound of wrapping paper being torn open.

Watching your family so happy and united again made you wish you hadn’t been away for so long. Neil sat beside you, watching your relatives’ joyful reactions. As usual, he didn’t understand a word, but seeing you smile and your family so content was more than enough for him. Neil truly felt like part of your family.

After the excitement of the gifts brought from the U.S., it was the adults’ turn to open their presents. You couldn’t have been happier in those moments—your wonderful boyfriend was right there with you, and your family was having such a great time! And now, it seemed like your entire family adored him.

You felt overwhelmingly grateful and happy for this beautiful Christmas gift—true joy.

After everyone had shown off their gifts and shared their happiness at what they received for Christmas, it was time to dance. Of course, as good Mexicans, everyone hit the floor to dance to the rhythm of classic cumbias from Los Ángeles Azules or La Sonora Dinamita. Watching everyone dance made you want to pull Neil onto the dance floor.

He, reading your thoughts, stood up and reached for your hand. God, you truly loved the courage he showed at times like this.

"Baby, are you sure you know how to dance this?" you teased him.

"Of course, mi amor. At least I can try! Besides, I can’t be the only one not dancing with his beautiful girlfriend here!" The way he called you mi amor made butterflies flutter in your stomach like you were a 16-year-old girl again. You nodded and giggled.

You led the dance, and surprisingly, Neil matched your steps and the rhythm of the music effortlessly. It was almost as if he had been practicing—had he? You couldn’t help but wonder. Lately, he had improved so much, and it caught you off guard.

You were even more surprised when he danced to banda, salsa, merengue, and even the traditional songs at every Mexican party, like El Payaso del Rodeo. He didn’t stop there; he joined in on the most popular reggaeton hits, hyping up the party even more. You had no idea how Neil managed to keep up with so much dancing, singing, and chaos. It was clear he loved Mexican parties—and you loved him even more for it.

Later, the karaoke session began. When the most emotional songs started playing, your cousins and aunts grabbed the microphones to sing their hearts out. The songs ranged from salsa to Tex-Mex, banda, and even reggaeton.

By 5 a.m., the youngest kids were fast asleep on two chairs pushed together, wrapped in a blanket. Your cousins, however, were more alive than ever, while the adults were starting to give in to exhaustion.

Everyone finally agreed it was time to sleep. Exhausted, sweaty, and worn out from all the dancing and singing, they were eager to rest. The next day would be just as special—reheating Christmas dinner and spending more time with the family.

The bed distribution of the house was simple, you’d stay in your bedroom with Neil because, in all honesty, your parents were not naive and you two were adults. Neil sighed all the activities of the night away, throwing himself on your bed and bouncing over the cushions. You chuckled, throwing yourself by his side too.

“Did you have fun, love?” You asked with comforting enthusiasm, your arm coming to rest on his chest.

“It was nearly the best Christmas of my life, baby.” Neil whispered, his head turning to gaze into your eyes.

“Nearly??” You rose, an eyebrow curved and a play-pretend offence plastered all over your face.

“Yeah.” He just said, a chuckle hidden in the curve of his lips.

“But why, love?” You whined, leaning over him face to face.

“Because… my girl here decided to tease me and leave me all alone to jerk off in my in-laws’ bathroom like a horny highschooler…” He murmured, cupping your face lovingly but firmly.

“... Can I make it up to you?....” You tested every word out like they were brand new, the neglected dampness of your pussy coming back with fury. To make the statement clear, you took hold of your ugly sweater and tossed it aside, your lacy bra looking right at him. Neil’s expression softened, his mouth went dry. Once again, he was dumbfounded by you. 

“Oh, baby… But won’t they he-” Right away, you devoured the rest of the sentence off his mouth. Sweet traces of candy and cider mixing in both tongues, yours was needy, painfully slow. 

“We’ll be quiet…” You murmured against his plump rosy lips, not resisting the temptation of kissing them again. Tentatively, he rose, the kiss intact. He palmed the back of his jeans in search of something, you sat on your knees and took hold of what he presented to you: his opened wallet, a golden wrapper shining with the filtered moonlight from the curtains.

“As quiet as we can…” You corrected with a grin, the sound of the wrapper stupidly loud in the silent night. Neil hurried up, jeans and boxers down, his cock hard again and seeking you after everything you teased him with. 

Swiftly and well used to this, your hand took the condom and slid it down his aching dick. Neil´s lip stung with the sharp bite of his canine, his hands magnetically attracted to the clasp of your bra. He fumbled, you giggled, easing him with a kiss, anxiety at being heard, the possibility of your parents’ judgement and the pent up desire he felt for you manifesting in the nerve endings of his hands. Finally, he managed, pretty lace tossed into an unknown spot. Your pretty tits did not even have a second to feel the bedroom air when Neil’s hungry mouth stuck to one nipple.

“Neil…” A soft, breathy whisper that would not make it past the bricks, spackle and coats of paint that surrounded you. For Neil’s ears only. His crooked bottom tooth grazed the sensitive flesh, a soft suck to his defined shoulder silencing the louder reaction it got from you.

He sucked fervently, having to open his mouth to let your nipple go without a loud pop. Right away, he searched for the other one, sending shivers down your spine and into your soaked pussy. On instinct, you shifted, the denim around you burning your skin from just how aware you were of its uselessness. Neil resented your absence as you stood up to undress but quickly, the feeling of the rest of his clothes weighed heavy. Soon you were back on top, both fully naked and your dripping pussy looming over the tip of his dick.

“Baby…” He started, your lips shushing him off right away and capturing his low groan when you took hold of his hard latex clad cock.

After a few pumps, you pressed the tip to your wet entrance and sank ever so slowly. Neil fought everything in him to keep it quiet. Your tightness, your warmth, your sweet body… He was done for.

Slowly and quietly, you took him for a ride, his hands grabbed you hips tightly, holding onto you for support. In your thoughts, as you started to pick up the pace and you pussy took him in deeper, you thanked whoever manufactured both your bed and your mattress for unknowingly making them so quiet. You relaxed after a roll of your hips tested just how loud this bed could get, not much, as long as you didn’t fuck him like you wanted him to die on the spot.

Neil swallowed thickly, the veins of his cock pumping madly. He throbbed inside you, you clenched around him and then steadied the pace, gentle enough to not make the bed creak loudly, fast enough to make your tits bounce.

His hands cupped your breasts and rolled your nipples with the same speed you rolled your hips at. He tested a move, bucking his hips and sending his cock deeper in your tight cunt. It was now your turn to muffle out a moan.

It was pathetic to Neil, but after what you did in the bathroom, he was not in conditions to last long, pressure already building up in his balls the more you bounced on him and throbbed around his cock. 

Sneaking out, a moan from him made your quick hands cover his mouth before the rest could resonate within your room. Neil’s baby blue eyes squinted in an apology, you kept riding, accepting it.

Your hips kept rolling, your pussy kept squeezing him so stickily, Neil gripped your hips in need and over all, desperation. His hips kept bucking with some minimal wooden creaking from your bed. He felt everything around his thick cock sizzle and, before he could warn you with a sound muffled by the palm of your hand, a hot spurt of cum filled the condom.

He shut his eyes, his lips pressing against your palm and almost burning his print on it from just how hard he did it. His hips bucked, you bounced on him more, your greedy pussy forgetting for a moment about the condom and eagerly milking him dry. His nails left crescent moons on your hips.

Your cunt nested him for a while, his hot breath tickling the skin of your hand. It was then when, in the serenity of his post-orgasmic bliss and your still not satisfied but content state, Neil caught you by surprise. With a hidden supply of stamina, Neil flipped you over, the bed gently grunting beneath you.

“I should leave you like this…” He groaned into your neck, placing a kiss on the skin there before lifting himself off. A well deserved revenge from the bathroom incident. You whined, your pussy fluttering and begging for more, so close yet so far from an orgasm that he could easily deny you like you denied him. 

And he would, if he had an ounce of cockiness or mischief or the stupidity that would allow a man to have such a beautiful girl like you and just decide not fully please her. But he wasn’t like that. Your sweet, adoring, whipped Neil couldn’t even house the thought in his head for more than a few seconds.

So, he killed you with kindness, giving you a loving kiss and snaking his hand towards your long ignored clit. You moaned, Neil kissed you deeper. The perfect ebbing electricity of his touch made your body tremble. 

“Neil…” You whimpered into his mouth, his guitar scars adding a rougher edge to your sensitive flesh. Neil circled your clit faster, your own slick easing this. Your sweet pussy clenched around nothing right before a finger fixed that problem.

His touch was so certain, so good. Neil did not stop once, he didn't leave you hanging. His finger pumping your tight warm pussy, his thumb circling your clit until your toes curled over the duvet and your cunt fluttered on its own. A second finger came into the scene to stretch you open the curl inside you. You whimpered as quietly as you could, and before you knew it, you had to bite onto his shoulder to muffle out your cry of pleasure.

Neil helped you through your orgasm and guided you along so lovingly, so patiently, even with the sting on his flesh. At the end, he withdrew his fingers and licked them clean with a gentle groan, nuzzling against you in a loving embrace, confirming what you already knew: this was the best Christmas of your life.

Pinterest moodboard to help you visualize a mexican christmas!

[cillianmurphyfanatic]

Cillian Murphy as Thomas Shelby in Peaky Blinders (2013 thru 2022) Creator: Steven Knight [TV Show]

[jonathancarneswifey]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐔𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍 /

Jonathan Crane

ֶָ˗જ⁀➴ I can hear sirens, sirens. he hit me and it felt like it could kiss, I can hear voilins, voilins. give me all of that ultraviolence

Pairing - jonathan crane x fem! reader

summary - your professor, Jonathan Crane catches you cheating on the test and decides to teach you a valuable lesson

warnings - degradation, spanking, semi-public act, age gap (reader is in 20s and he is in his late 30s), everything is consensual

Notes - you vote for it, you get it also this is really not a 'smut', I wanted to make this a bit meaningful so I decided to make two parts, consider this as a late Christmas present

Word count - 3.6k

Divider credits to the person who made them

Exams can be stressful, very stressful if one didn't study and right now you found yourself in the worst possible situation.

you sat in a vast examination hall, the exam hall was suffocatingly silent, rustle of paper and scratching were the only sounds produced in the entire room and to avoid any kind of academic misconduct everyone was seated in a far distance from one- another.

However you stared at the question paper words on it blurring in your mind whilst your mind raced to remember answers but unfortunately you couldn't remember the lengthy answers.

The exam in question was a psychology test paper that your deranged Professor Jonathan Crane held every month.The question papers were tough and nerve-cracking.

Sometimes you wonder if he set this hard papers to traumatize all the students or did he want to derive sadistic pleasure.

your eyebrows scrutinized as you look upon the answering section, you were doing well on the objectives sections you even did good on the case study section until the one where you had to attempt lengthy answers.

you barely remember the answer to any of this, you spent your last night curled up in the bed, watching your favourite crime period show while stressing about this upcoming psychology exam.

you chastised yourself for spending hours simping over the show's main character when you should have been reading the textbook instead.

Fuck this…

your gaze swept across the examination hall, searching desperately for any clues to the answers. Your baby blue eyes finally settled on the class topper seated ahead of you, a flicker of hope sparking in your chest.

Before making a move, you tilt your head slightly, stealing a quick glance at Professor Crane, who is engrossed in marking the attendance. Seizing the opportunity, you prepare to discreetly glimpse at her sheet to cheat the answer.

you move forward to get a better view of her answer sheet making your chair to stir on the marble flooring, you mentally curse yourself.

After a moment, you positioned yourself in such a way, you could cheat off her paper easily to be honest you only needed to copy one or two answers for the passing grade and well you just did that.

Everything was going smoothly by now. you had quickly matched up her speed of writing the answers, the first question was done and you moved to the next one, jolting the words down as fast as you could.

you sighed of relief when you saw the first-half of this particular answer was nearly done and the other half seemed big enough to cover your entire page ,thus, you cracked your knuckles and began copying again.

you were almost halfway done with the answer when you felt an agonizing presence behind you making you freeze in your place. sweat beads formed on your forehead and you could feel your heart beating faster.

The room fell silent as professor crane’s sharp voice cut through the air. "Care to explain what you're doing?" All eyes turned towards you, a guilty expression spreading across your face as Crane’s gaze bore into you.

you swallow hard, forcing down your fear as your eyes drop to the paper to avoid the razor-sharp intensity of Professor Crane's gaze.

This was the worst case scenario, getting caught for cheating, definitely not something you’d imagine but now you got yourself in great trouble because crane was not going to let you go.

His jaw clenches when you refuse to look at him, “look at me” he says, his tone was authoritative enough to make you look up, at him.

his piercing blue eyes darkened with malice as you looked at them with pure guilt. “you were just cheating off from her answer sheet, weren't you?” He points at the girl sitting ahead.

The girl gives you a skeptical look, her eyes sneaking at your answer sheet to see if you really copied of from her paper.

you immediately grip the paper in your hands, “N-no, professor that's a serious accusation and I haven't copied from anyone” despite the fear settling in your chest, you speak in a blunt tone.

your baby blue eyes darted a fiery gaze through his piercing iris’. Crane always had a problem with you, he would always insult your behavior or your grades and the classic, your provocative clothing sense.

He let out a brief sigh before leaning closer to you, his eyes were locked with yours. each second passed with anticipation, clearly the fear of getting caught was written all over your face.

without a word, he snatches the answer sheet from your grip, you gasp loudly at his quick action. “Please, Professor Crane” you plead out in a hope.

Ignoring your plea, he continues inspecting your answer, Crane’s expressions hardened when he compares your paper with the girl who sat ahead, his icy blue eyes darkening as he took in every word of your answers.

Crane's jaw tightened as he finished his comparison, his fingers curling around both papers as if restraining himself from tearing them apart. His cold, calculating gaze snapped back to you, and you flinched under the weight of his judgment.

“Impressive handwriting” his tone was laced with sarcasm, “Though it's remarkable how identical your answers are to Miss Carter's” his lips curved in a cruel smile and the accusation hit you like a punch in the gut.

Your throat felt dry as you stammered, "Professor, I swear I didn't cheat it’s a coincidence” you blurted out. “I studied the same material–”

“Spare me your excuses," he cut you off sharply, his voice a low snarl. "You’re pathetic enough to cheat, and yet you’re even worse at covering it up.”

You swallowed hard, trying to calm the panic rising in your chest. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air.

“How pathetic of you, I expected better” he continued his tone with mockery, “Actually no, I didn't. I know from the beginning of the semester that you don't have potential to study”.

Crane's humiliating words pressed down on you. your heart pounding painfully in your chest. “Believe me professor I-I didn't cheat” you tried to defend yourself, despite everything.

He raised his eyebrows, agonizing fury was displayed on his face as he tried to maintain his composure “There is no room left for excuses left now Miss..” He gritted through his teeths, “but if your willing to still defend yourself then I will just fail you right now maybe even report you to administrative board’’

Your heart raced, the reality of his words sinking in. The severity of the situation clawed at you, and you could feel your world start to crumble under the weight of your failure.

He didn't just see you as a student who had messed up, he saw you as an insolent girl who needed to be punished.

"Cheating, lying, it’s not just an academic violation it's a betrayal of trust. Do you even care about that?”

The shame flooded you again, threatening to drown you in its intensity. You couldn’t meet his eyes.

Crane closes his hands to his chest, his gaze never weaverd instead it grew more piercing, he leans down towards you so now you could feel his hot breath stinging on the bridge of your nose.

“Now we don't want everyone to waste their time in the exam because of your pathetic and irresponsible behaviour” he continued, his tone darkening. “Accept that you have cheated on this exam” .

You could feel the tension between you like a live wire, and despite every ounce of resistance inside you, the truth slipped past your lips. “I… I cheated.”

“Glad you accepted it” he mocked you again, your chest tightened with every passing second, “Do one thing now” his voice dropped to a whisper. “Head to my office and once this exam is over we will discuss your behavior and the consequences that come with it”.

your voice was barely a whisper, laced with guilt and apprehension. "Yes, Professor... I understand." you bit your lip, avoiding his gaze, dread settling in your stomach as you think about the result of your actions

-

An hour had passed and you were still sitting alone in his office, the silence pressing down on you like a weight. The walls seemed to close in with every tick of the clock, your fingers fidgeted restlessly, you had regretted every action, your every impulsive decision which led you trapped in this situation.

Exam was already finished and professor Crane had still not shown up, at this rate. your heart was beating faster while your legs trembled with fear ,what if he really fails you? What if he reports you to the administrative board? That would ruin your whole academic career

you wouldn't let that happen, you were ready to re-take exams or even complete thousands of assignments, hell you would even beg for forgiveness. If that’s what he wants-

suddenly the knob of the door creaks open making your legs press against eachother, the door opens wider revealing his shadow spilling across the threshold.

you didn't dare to lift your eyes, instead your gaze remained on the floor, the only sound produced in this room was the rhythmic click of his expensive shoes hitting on the marble flooring.

Professor crane leaned back in his leather chair, his piercing blue eyes fixed intently on you as you sat nervously across from him.

He tosses your answer sheet onto the cold marble table, Your eyes flicker toward the messy, half-written response, the ink smudged and incomplete reminding you of you failure.

“...It is clear you have no respect for any academic exams for the rules or for my authority” he continued, his tone growing harsher with each word passing. “Did you really think you could cheat your way to passing grade?”

your head hung low in shame, you had no response for his questions. He has caught you red-handed cheating in an exam what could you say to what could you even say to defend yourself.

“Answer me” Professor Crane growled, slamming his hand on the desk, “Do you think you could deceive me? your professor” he asks in a demanding tone, his voice contained pure fury.

you jumped at his outburst, “No- professor I didn't mean to..to disrespect you or the process..I-I am sorry” you stammer.

Crane's eyes narrowed as he noticed the desperation in your voice, a cruel smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he regarded you with a mix of amusement and contempt.

He stood up abruptly, his chair screeching loudly in the tense silence. In two long strides, he was standing before you, his tall frame looming over your trembling body.

"No, Miss … there will be no second chance for someone like you”. he growled, his voice dripping with disdain. "You've shown me that you can't be trusted to earn your grade through honest means.”

you shake your head in disbelief, your mind raced through numerous thoughts, one being that your academic career is over he will probably fail you and dismiss you from the institution.

His sadistic side dawned up at your miserable state, leaning down he whispers “As a professor it's my job to teach you a valuable lesson right? so you don't use your little tactics to cheat in my class”.

your eyebrows form a knot of confusion, “what do you mean?” you ask him, bluntly this time.

“...you have to face consequences of your behavior, what you did in the exam hall is not tolerable” he closes the distance between you, at this point you could smell his expensive cologne.

The thick air shifts in the room, eroticism of this encounter was practically tangible in the air and none of you tried to ignore it.

“Pardon?” you speak out.

Crane releases a deep breath, gripping the edge of your chair, he says. “I’ll give you two choices, one is I fail you right at this moment and report you to the board..” he lifts his finger to graze your bottom lip, “second choice is, you bend over the desk and take your punishment like a good student”.

Your eyes widen in shock and disbelief at his brazen, inappropriate suggestion. You recoil slightly as his finger grazes your lip, a shiver running down your spine at the intimate, threatening gesture.

"Professor Crane, I..." you stammer, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and confusion. "Surely there must be another way. Failing me and reporting me would ruin my academic career. Isn't there some other punishment you have in mind?

He lets out a dark chuckle, “No. There is no other choice, these are the only two options I have for you”.

you sink your fingers in his desk as you think about the worst possible outcomes of this situation, your mind tells you to deny this but afterall it's a matter of your academic career.

His hand moves to the back of your chair, tilting it slightly as he looms over you. “Make your choice,” he murmurs, his tone cold and menacing. “A failed class would be the least of your worries?” he remarks, his tone was laced with sarcasm.

your throat feels dry, your palms clammy as you weigh the implications of his words. You can feel the room spinning around you, the power dynamic shifting entirely in his favor. And as much as you want to deny it, the spark of something forbidden flickers in your chest.

Your voice wavers as you whisper, “the second choice” It’s barely audible, but Crane hears it. His smirk deepens, and the room seems to shrink around you. There’s no turning back now.

“Good decision” he says, his voice laced with satisfaction. “now, you're completely under my control and if you dare to speak a word about it to anybody else then I won't hesitate to suspend you” his voice dropping with every menacing word he said.

you nod hesitatedly complying his order, “yes, professor Crane..I would not let anybody know about this”. he just hummed in response and gestured you towards the desk

For a minute, you stand in the room with shock displayed over your face, your mind racing with the thoughts about him and about what was going to happen next.

"Bend over the desk, now or I'll make it more unpleasant than it needs to be” his voice was stern, shaking you out of your thoughts.

Professor crane grabs your wrist, his strong grip tightens around you as he abruptly yanks you forward. Before you can react, he forcefully pushes you down onto the expansive, polished surface of his desk. The cold wood shocked your skin, making you gasp sharply.

the cool wood pressing against your flushed skin and the room falls silent, only sound produced was your own ragged breathing and the distant ticking of Crane's watch.

“undo the button of your shorts” he says, his voice commanding enough to make trembling fingers reach the button, which feels a lead weight, “do you want me to do it for you?” he mocks you but his voice even radiating a warning to hurry up.

With a deep, shuddering breath, you undo the button of your jean shorts , the sound of the release echoing in the charged silence, before your fingers could reach your zipper. Professor Crane's hands find the waistband of your shorts with a sharp tug he pulls them downwards with such a force that makes you flinch.

the denim fabric rough against your sensitive skin as he roughly pulls them past your thighs and calves. leaving you exposed and vulnerable beneath him.

The sudden exposure sends a jolt of shock and shame through you. you feel the cool air of the room caressing your bare skin, a stark reminder of your defenseless state.

your heart pounds wildly in your chest as you realize the extent of your Professor’s control over you at this moment.

you feel the heat of his presence behind, his tall frame casting a shadow over your exposed back, “let's begin your punishment”

his large hand coming down hard upon your tender, exposed bottom. The sharp crack of skin on skin echoes through the room, followed by your stifled cry of pain.

you let out a humiliating moan as he slaps your arse for the first time, a sudden sensation jolted through your entire body.

“Count them for me, if you forget the number then we will restart again” you hear his demanding voice through the thick air of his office.

his hand makes contact with your bare bottom again, the sharp slap on your soft flesh echoing through the room, “o-one” you gasp out of the sudden pain.

“Why am I doing this?” He squeezes your ass with one hand while the other was wrapped around the roots of your hairs.

“Because-” you couldn't find the words to speak, you were drowned in the pain and the pleasure that derived through it. “Because, I disrespected you professor by cheating in one of the exams”

his palm comes down hard on your ass with a sharp slap, making you shiver under his touch, “two” you choke out, fresh tears grazing at your eyelids.

“That's right, you fucking disrespected me, you're getting the punishment that a whore like you deserves” He growls, showing no mercy as he slaps your flesh with adamant force.

“Three” you clench your teeth, biting back a cry of pain as you feel the stinging heat of his palm searing your skin. “Please Professor Crane…it hurts” you cry out.

your pleas fall on deaf ears as he continues, another harsh spank landed on your soft skin. you release a series of sensual voices as you feel your arousal coursing between your legs. “F-four” you counted out.

“Oh does it hurt?, good” he snarls, grabbing the flesh of your reddened ass in his touch. “this is what happens to sluts who don't follow rules”.

His hand continues your punishment, each slap a brand upon your flesh. The desk creaks under the force of his discipline.

you count out each strike without missing any numbers, concealing your cries out at the harsh impact of Crane's hands, every hit echoing through the air, a dark part of yours manifested intense pleasure.

Crane was ruthless, not giving any time to adjust before landing another sharp smack, soon enough the room was filled with your melodious moans and the harsh contact of eachother's skins.

Suddenly, he hooks his fingers under the crotch of your panties and yanks them down, exposing your dripping cunt to the cool air. "Fifteen" you cry out, your voice breaking as the final slap stings your raw flesh.

“such a needy little whore” he growls, his hands trace your shoulder, tightening his hold around them into a firm grip. with one swift motion he spuns you around, forcing you to face him.

Crane closes the distance between you, His hands moved with practical ease, slipping around your waist and setting firmly on your back.

He grabs your jaw roughly forcing you to meet his mocking gaze, “I believe you have learned a valuable lesson from our encounter”.

you nod reluctantly, “yes.. professor I-I won't make any such mistake or disappoint you ever again”

He raised his eyebrow gauging your hairs behind your ear, mockingly “I do hope so, remember a word about it to anyone and you'll find yourself outside the university”.

when he again receives an obedient nod from your response, he backs away. “Good then get dressed , you can leave then” he ventures, his departing words.

your heart sinks in utter misery. You had braced yourself for many possibilities from this encounter but this was nowhere near what you had envisioned-

“Do you want me to dress you?” he asks, his icy blue eyes piercing through yours as he notices you lingering around his office.

“No I will take my leave” you reply back, trying to be blunt as possible, bending down you look at your clothes to only find your jean shorts

where are your white lace panties? They were one of your favourites but then your mind came up to the conclusion that professor Crane would have probably ripped them off during your ‘punishment’

After slipping back into your clothes, you turned on your heel and started walking out of his office.

“And, Miss…” he calls your last name, pulling your attention back to him, you spin back around noticing his captivating features.

“I want you to retake the exam on this upcoming Friday under my supervision” his voice was again cold and distant.

“of course professor” your voice trails off in the thick air as you turn to leave his office with the hollow ache spreading in your chest.

Crane watches you leave and for the first time the cold blue eyes seem to soften at your leave, did he expect you to stay and beg him to fuck you?

He brushed the thought aside, slipping his hands into his pocket. As he pulled them out, his fingers revealed the delicate white lace panties he had purposely stolen and tucked with himself.

His fingers lightly trace the delicate hem of the lace, feeling the wetness that has soaked the fabric, Crane brings them closer. inhaling deeply, his senses were filled with the lingering scent of your arousal.

Deep down, he knew this wouldn't be their last encounter. He was certain, beyond a doubt, that you would return to him, begging him to fuck you.

[tommyshelby87]

Fun question. I would answer Tommy or Jonathan

[viesanterieures]

Merry Christmas 🫶🫶

🎄🕯️🤍

[staiyn]

A bit late but my christmas present to the cillian fandom

Warning- could get a bit freaky

[cillmurphyslover]

Merry Christmas!

[look-at-the-soul]

Merry Christmas 🎄

May your Christmas be wrapped in twinkling lights, cozy moments and a heart full of peace, let the magic of the season fill your soul with joy ✨

May we find inspiration in the darkest times and turn it into a candle to light someone else’s path. I hope we both find peace and comfort in a little story and let the power of words heal our souls ♥️🎄✨

[tommygrace]

My three favorite episodes of the entire show. What are yours?

S2E6- S3E1- S1E5.

[mothhball]

Happy 500 Moth, it's so hard to choose o(≧o≦)o I don't drink but for you, cheers! Let's go for Robert Capa, Vodka, orange, grapefruit juice, simple syrup, and to top it off! A little cinnamon...(>////<) I'm such a sucker for fluffy...

Congrats dear 🎉

-Orchid

Robert Capa x Reader

summary short fic + fluff + cuddles + domestic + ❛ i do need you. i wouldn't be here if i didn't.  ❜

warnings none, except for the yearning that this caused within me

notes thank you so much for ordering this!!! it's so cold where I'm at right now, and this warmed me right up <3 Enjoy your drink!! (ngl this combo could actually be good)

! MINORS DNI !

event masterlist • main masterlist • taglist • kofi word count: 570

The dim lights of Capa‘s bedroom bathed your entwined hands in a faint blue hue as your fingertips traced gentle patterns over his palm. Exploring his fingerprints, the little cuts and scrapes from tinkering, and the few fingers where he chewed at his nails in a subconscious manifestation of his seemingly everlasting stress.

But tonight, he wasn’t stressed. No. Tonight, his body pressed against yours, holding you close against his warm frame under the sheets. Tonight, he breathed in the scent of your skin; of your hair. And he was at peace.

Every once in a while, his fingers would brush back against yours, returning the tender little touches while his free arm remained anchored around your waist. Worrying that his other arm might be falling asleep where it was resting under your head, you shifted in an attempt to make him feel more comfortable. And for a moment, it seemed to help.

Until you accidentally brushed your feet against his shins, causing him to grumble and shiver.

“Do you mind?” he murmured into your hair, tightening his free arm around your waist, wanting you closer despite your cold toes.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed out a quiet chuckle and whispered back to him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to.”

A skeptical hum was your only answer for a moment, and you suspected he dozed off. Which, of course, wouldn’t do at all. Grinning to yourself, your feet brushed against his legs again, and you got the reaction you wanted when Robert now wrapped both arms around you.

One of his thighs slotted between yours, capturing you in his embrace to keep you from wriggling.

“I’m serious…” he grumbled. “You’re like a human icicle. Of all the people I could share a bed with.”

“And a life,” you chimed in. Your smile was smug, but fortunately, it was too dark for him to see.

“And a life…”

A peaceful silence settled over the two of you, only occasionally broken by a yawn or the rustling of the sheets. Eventually, Capa spoke up again. There was a tone in his voice that you didn’t get to hear often. Something vulnerable and soft. As a man of science, his rational mind was usually the driving force in his words and actions. But with patience and lots of persistent loving, you managed to crack his shell wide open, revealing his sweet, yearning heart. The heart of a man who used to hide behind books and equations to hide how head over heels he truly was for you.

“I used to think I could do everything by myself,” he whispered, and you could hear the smile in his sentence. “But I can’t. And I’m so glad that I can’t.”

A sugary, sticky warmth ran through your body, spreading like thick molasses through your veins and causing your fingertips to tingle and your smile to widen.

“You’re the smartest person I know, Rob. I’m sure you don’t really need —“

He already knew what you were going to say, so he cut you off before you could finish, emphasizing his words with a squeeze of your waist.

“Oh, quiet. I do need you. I wouldn't be here if I didn't.”

Chuckling, he moved his body to hover over yours. The look in his eyes immediately caused your pulse to pick up.

“Even though it seems like I’ll have to use some unorthodox methods to warm you up.”

[tommyshelbysdimples]

[cillianmurphyfanatic]

Cillian Murphy was photographed by William Ciccocioppo while promoting Breakfast on Pluto at the 30th Tornonto International Film Festival [TIFF] (September 11, 2005)