#Cillian Murphy x Fem Reader

[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 1

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series Master list

✨So first part is finally here!! Please be aware this part is set to happen in different days therefore you’ll see a little divider in the middle… and also! There’s violence. Please note I’m trying to follow the ideas/education from back in the day so it won’t necessary fit for today’s way of seeing things.

Word count: 2,977

Waving her sister goodbye, Y/N headed outside. But to her surprise she found Scott stopping his vehicle.

“Hello sweetheart.” He greeted her with a quick kiss on her lips, she stepped back immediately in case her mother was watching behind the curtains.

“Scott, I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

“We’ll I lied and said I felt sick to get out earlier.”

This wasn’t something he’d do, but she listened to his explanation.

“I wanted to see you.”

Y/N looked over her shoulder, her parents were strict.

“You know you’re only invited for lunch and tea on Sundays.”

“I know, I know.” He moved back retrieving something from the car. “Got you these.”

“I love them, thank you.” Y/N pressed the bouquet of flowers against her chest, the fresh aroma invading her, a smile growing in her lips.

“Why don’t you go back inside and put them in water? Then meet me at the bakery around the corner.”

“Where are we going?”

Scott gave her a wide smile that took her breath away. “It’s a surprise, you’ll like it.”

Butterflies got spread all over her stomach, the expectation building. She hurried to the unexpected date.

“Listen, I want to apologize for acting shitty the other day.” Scott announced. “Can you forgive me love?”

Y/N nodded eagerly, pleased by his change of heart.

“It’s alright, just be careful next time.” Y/N suggested as he drove.

“Careful?”

“You shouldn’t have talked Tommy that way.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “There you go again, defending him. This why we fight.”

“No, Scott I don’t want a war between you two all the time, he didn’t like the way you talked to me.”

“Why does he always sticks his bloody nose in our business?”

“It’s not like that.”

“He’s always standing in the middle, I’m sick of getting orders from him, he leaves me the worst jobs just to please himself, he’s got people to do those things. I thought they wanted me to do other things, not to clean horses shit.”

“Scott I can’t interfere in your role among the gang, he already has done more than enough.”

“There it is, you’re defending him instead of being on my side…”

Y/N realized how unintentionally she always put Tommy on a pedestal, her boyfriend was right, feeling like he was belittled. She knew Tommy didn’t like him, and there was a possibility that she wasn’t impartial.

“I’ll see what I can do.” She finally gave in, not wanting to spend their time together fighting.

“That’s my girl.” He stopped the car on the sideway and began to shower her face with soft kisses.

”Do you need anything else?” Lizzie walked around the desk, resting against the bookshelf.

“What happened with the contracts you couldn’t find?” Tommy asked leaning back on his chair.

“Arthur took them by mistake.”

“Keep those locked.” He pointed a finger at her.

“Are you going to Karl’s birthday party?” She tried batting her eyelashes at him, but Tommy wasn’t looking at her.

“Yes, in a minute.”

Lizzie looked down at him again, hoping he’d ask her to join him.

“Heard Ada bought a huge cake.”

Tommy took his briefcase and hummed nonchalantly.

“I wrapped you a present for Karl, take it before you leave.”

She didn’t get a response.

Giving up to her wishes to be invited with the Shelby family, Lizzie shook her head. Collecting the remains of her dignity from the floor.

Tommy followed her with his eyes as she stomped her foot on her way out but dismissed it a few seconds later, not understanding her attitude.

The office was quiet when he crossed it, everyone had headed home already and his family were already in Polly’s house.

This was the first time he left considerably early in a long time. The need to release some stress made him reach for a cigarette. He had a dozen of things to do, a trip to London in the upcoming days, visit one of the fabrics… before he realized, Tommy parked outside Polly’s property.

Karl’s celebration was a rare family gathering. For his brothers birthdays they’d usually went to camp close to the river and drink all night. He wasn’t used to paper decorations and chocolate cake.

A small figure crashed against his legs. “Oh oh.”

Looking down, he found one of John’s kids. Was this Kate? Or Barbara?

“Careful.”

“There you are.” John appeared with a sandwich in his hand. “Go with your siblings.” He instructed his daughter.

“John.” Tommy called him mysteriously, with his hand motioning his brother to step closer. “Wipe your fucking mouth, you’ve got chocolate all over it.”

Stepping into the living room, he joined his family.

“Uncle Tommy!” Karl ran towards him with his arms open.

Tommy rubbed the kid’s back and offered him his present. “Happy birthday Karl.”

“Thank you!”

“Looks like you owe me money Pol.” Ada chuckled as she helped her son open his present.

Tommy looked from his sister to his aunt, studying them.

“Damn it. I thought he wasn’t going to show up.”

“So you made a bet?” He asked in disbelief.

He usually wouldn’t. But when it came to his sister, he made an effort.

“Where’s Y/N?” Polly asked with a frown.

“I sent her the invitation, thought you’d arrive together.” Ada explained staring at her brother.

But Tommy shook his head. “No, I haven’t seen or heard from her.”

“Shit! Pol! Help me out here!” John shouted holding his son James in his arms, he was bleeding and crying. “Smashed his fucking head.”

As Ada rushed to get some clean towels, Polly tried to comfort the child.

Stepping away from the chaos, Tommy leaned against a column to think he actually hadn’t seen Y/N in almost a week. A million thoughts filling his mind, trying to find a reason for her to be distant.

He needed to know if she was alright because she had always been close to the family, she was always considered part of it to all their gatherings; she was there for them at Freddy’s funeral, at John’s wedding…

“Now that we’re here all together, I’ve something to say.” Arthur announced stepping on a chair, oblivious that Esme and Polly were taking care of a bleeding child.

As the room went quiet, Arthur announced he and Linda were expecting a baby.

“Congratulations.” Esme managed to blurr through gritted teeth. “Now help me hold James, because I need to rearrange his arm.”

As Arthur walked past Tommy, his brother patted his arm and mumbled a low congratulations.

But the thought of Y/N not being with them, stuck in his head.

Y/N felt like sleeping on the couch. Her feet were swollen, Lady Winchester lost one of her precious earrings and decided to put everyone in the search until they found it under her vanity hours later.

Oddly her family decided to stay up late apparently as she could see the candles still on. But just as she set one foot inside, her mother pushed her abruptly.

“You’re a dishonorable daughter! We gave you everything!” One of her hands intended to land on her cheek but hit her on her ear instead.

“What happened?”

“Y-your aunt says you’re with a child, she saw you this morning and came to ask me.” Y/N’s mother was furious.

A woman came into view, her sister poking her head from the kitchen as her mother pushed her into the room next to it and closed the door. She demanded Y/N to undress and started touching her breasts.

“She’s with a child.” The elder woman confirmed, her hands still on her breasts.

Y/N’s face got paler by the second. Her mother gave the woman money and asked discretion.

A heavy silence filled the room, Y/N could hear a pin drop if someone threw one. Dizziness swept over her as her palms started to sweat.

“Your father will be so disappointed by you.” Her mother sentenced firmly. “You’re a whore, this sin will follow you from now on.”

Blood went to Y/N’s feet and she had to grab the vanity for support.

“You’ll tell Scott tomorrow and get him to ask your father’s permission to marry you before you start showing.” Y/N could hear her mother’s words as if she was underwater.

“I’ll save him the embarrassment, perhaps you can go to your grandmother’s house and hide there…” she was pacing the room as a maniac, Y/N was starting to process everything, she could hardly breathe.

“I didn’t know I could get pregnant without being married.”

Y/N’s mother laughed sarcastically. “It’s too late for that now, you should’ve waited until you got married!”

“You never told me this could happen.” Y/N felt on the edge of tears.

“I educated you with values, God only knows what you learned from that friend of yours.” Her mother mumbled something else Y/N couldn’t understand. Slowly she sat on the carpet, her skirt pooled around her hips and she finally sobbed. When one day Scott touched her breasts and it felt nice, electricity ran through her body. But he stopped right there. Then after taking her to the river, one of his hands sneaked under her skirt and moved her intimate clothes to the side and her body trembled. A week after that, he was about to start a fight with Tommy, for the night when they arrived after visiting Tommy’s new house. So in an attempt to make up for that fight, he took her to the river again and after kissing her, he told her he wanted to do something else. It had been over a month since she stepped in the middle of Tommy and Scott.

Y/N didn’t know she could feel such pleasure until he introduced himself into her body and she exploded of ecstasy. It felt right, he said he loved her and they went back a few days later.

Scott had said this should be between just the two of them, just as their love. But he never told her she could get pregnant.

Worry kept her up all night. She felt sorry for her poor father.

Covering her face with her hands, Y/N felt the tears rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably.

“Scott,” Y/N breathed with relief, all the worry from the past days when she hadn’t been able to reach out soon, forgotten. “I need to talk to you.”

“Y/N… I’ve to rest, haven’t had a decent sleep yet. Can we talk about this another day?” He had been out of the city, busy with God knows what, but this was important for her, for them, for their future.

Y/N studied their surroundings carefully, trying to keep her voice from shaking she placed her hands on his shoulders.

“We’re going to have a child, Scott I’m carrying your baby.” She whispered.

Scott blinked unamused by the news, his nostrils expanding profusely. Y/N wanted to reach out, to throw herself in his arms but as they were outside his house, she had to control herself. Keep her distance with him and behave accordingly.

But when he took a step back, she felt confused.

“I-I’m… this must be a mistake.”

“No, no. There’s a baby growing inside me.” She repeated, keeping her voice down. “We’ll need to figure out about the wedding, it’ll have to be something intimate and soon before it starts showing…”

“I’m not going to marry you.” Scott scoffed. “How can I be sure this child is mine? You could’ve slept with someone else just as you did with me.” He mocked her.

Before she could stop herself, Y/N found her hand flying to his cheek. Her palm tingled after the slap she gave him.

“How could you say something like that?”

“Don’t you ever dare to fucking touch me again!” He snapped. “And as for this little inconvenient… I’m not taking responsibility, you’re on your own.”

He gave her a disgusted look and walked inside his house. Leaving Y/N turned into a crying mess, she was hurt and disappointed by his reaction and terrified of the outcome.

Her mother sent her to talk to Scott to arrange the terms of the wedding and now she just realized he didn’t have her back. But what was worse, he thought she would sleep around like a whore.

Folding her arms, she walked with her head down. Guilt and embarrassment written all over her face. How would she deal with this? How would she tell her mother what Scott just said? She had been so sure she’d be able to hide it from her father by marrying Scott but now she was left in the worst possible way.

She cried uncontrollably feeling defeated, it was now too late to do something, but at the same time she didn’t know how she’d take care and raise a baby by herself.

“Where’s Scott?” Her mother hissed when her daughter appeared in her eyesight.

Y/N couldn’t speak, something heavy made her walk slowly. Her whole world was crashing down and now she’d have to face the consequences.

“He told me he wouldn’t take responsibility for a child who might not be his.” As the words left her mouth, she started crying again.

“Of course he would say that! What did you think Y/N?!” Her mother exploded. “He must think the worst of you now, how easily you have yourself away to him!”

“He told me he loved me!” Managed to shout through her tears and sobs.

Her mother’s hand flew rapidly and hit her hard.

A heavy silence surrounded them. Her cheek was burning from her mother’s slap.

“Leave Y/N!” Her grandmother intervened.

“She deserved that.” Her mother explained, she was beyond angry.

Y/N’s grandmother wrapped an arm around her granddaughter protectively.

“What happened?”

“Tell her, go on… tell your grandmother what you did.”

Y/N kept her head down, she felt like she couldn’t look her grandmother in the eyes. She had failed them terribly, the values and principles they had showed her were thrown through the window.

“No? Well, I’ll tell her myself.” Her mother warned. “Y/N didn’t wait until marriage, she gave herself away like a whore and is now with a child. Couldn’t keep her legs closed.”

“Well we’ll think of something, she won’t start showing right away.”

“There’s nothing to think mother, Scott is out of the picture he didn't accept the responsibility.”

“But he’s as responsible as Y/N.” Her grandmother pointed out thinking this wasn’t fair on Y/N.

“Your granddaughter’s honor is right on the floor, he even suggested the baby isn’t his.”

Y/N saw her mother pacing around the small room, it was making her feel sick.

“And your father arrives tomorrow… should we send her with your sister to Durham?” She pondered the possibilities thinking of her mother’s sibling.

“Absolutely not.” Her grandmother defended.

“Then what? What are we going to do?”

Y/N felt sick and rushed away from them. Her head was pounding, her stomach in a tight knot and her heart shattered into million pieces.

“Ma’am you can’t go in there.” Tommy heard from outside his office, then saw the door swing open.

“Mr. Shelby you’re the only one who can help me.”

Tommy rose to his feet in a second, the worry he found in Y/N’s grandmother raised all the alarms.

“What happened?”

“My son in law is hitting Y/N badly.” Her voice cracked, her hands reached for the sleeve of his suit. “You’ve to help her.”

Tommy took his coat from the rack and rushed to see what was happening.

“John, get Polly and meet me in Y/N’s house.” He demanded.

“I’ll go with them Mr. Shelby.” Y/N’s grandmother expressed, not wanting to make him wait.

Tommy doubted for a second, but with her hand, the elder woman ushered him, so it must be serious. Stepping in Y/N’s house without knocking because he heard her cries and pained screams from outside, but Tommy wasn’t prepared to find what he’d see.

Y/N was in the middle of the living room half her clothes shattered, kneeling on the floor and her upper body leaned over a chair, her back covered by the belt marks and blood.

He felt a rush of anger and disgust through his body. Tommy could practically taste his bile in his mouth, but as Y/N’s father was about to hit her again, he stepped in his way, holding the man’s hand firmly in the air.

“You touch her again, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Stay out of this Shelby, I’m dealing with this whore.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself or you’ll regret it.” Tommy muttered through gritted teeth.

John joined him with a couple of some of their men, they went straight to hold Y/N’s father away from her.

Y/N winced in pain when Tommy tried to help her up.

“This is a family matter!” Y/N’s mother shouted disturbed for the interruption. “You should respect that.”

“Yeah? Just like you’re respecting your daughter?” Tommy snapped, he lost all self control over this injustice.

“She has to deal with the consequences of her acts! Behaved like a whore, gets punished like one.”

Y/N felt her mother’s words like daggers to her heart. She wasn’t sure what felt more hurtful; her father’s hitting her with his belt or her mother’s words.

Tommy felt like throwing up, he apologized when he got Y/N in his arms and she complained from the pain.

“You can’t take her away!” Her mother warned, trying to stop Tommy.

He gave her a warning stare and mumbled; “watch me.”

Part 2

Divider

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[i-try-to-write-stuff]

What do you wanna see?

Hi guys,

I'm back, sorta. I'm trying to jump back into writing.

If you have any characters in mind let me know what characters you want to see, and what your fic ideas/prompts/ whatever you wanna read other than th made up scenarios in my head or you can fill the form linked below. You can send me a message or ask.

And as always, Free Palestine, Congo, Haiti.

Zionists can fuck off.

[look-at-the-soul]

K thank you so much for thinking of me and my stories! 🥰 @runnning-outof-time ✨

Anon this is my Cillian master list, feel free to take a look maybe you’ll find something you like 😊

Hey live all your stories! Didn't you also have some Cillian x y/n ones? Or do you have some recommendations? xx

Hi, anon! Thanks so much for the compliment! 🥰 I’m so happy you enjoy my stories!! Thanks for reading them!! 💛

I don’t have any Cillian stories as I don’t write real person fics (rpf) anymore. I write only for Peaky Blinders characters.

I do, however, know of several amazing writers on here who write for him — please make sure you’re reading the warnings on their stories, many contain 18+, NSFW content!

@garrison-girl-08 - has SO many…both one shots and long fics

@cillmequick - has an amazing long fic (that can be read as y/n or OC) as well as a handful of one shots

@zablife - has a collection of one shots

@lau219 - has a long fic for him I believe . she also writes for other CM characters

@lunarubra - has a beautiful OC pairing with him

@look-at-the-soul - has many wonderful long fics and one shots

There are surely many others but I know these off the top of my head - between them you should be able to find many amazing stories to read 😊

[paradiseprincesss]

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝑻𝒐 𝑩𝒆 𝑬𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝑨𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 | Jonathan Crane

NOTES -> Hello hello! im gonna be in uni full time again starting first week of september so uploads will be much slowerrrr im sorry. I’ll try to write as much as i can for u my little loves!

REQUEST -> Based off the prompt 15 from this list here

SUMMARY -> Your boss, Jonathan Crane, plans on isolating you away from your old life, consuming you whole until you become nothing but devoted to him...and you're too naive to see the mind games that the expert psychiatrist is playing.

WORD COUNT -> 3.3k

WARNINGS -> Smut, p in v, soft!dark Jonathan, doctor/nurse relationship, boss/employee relationship, creampie

MASTERLIST

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jonathan felt his chest tighten as he narrowed his blue eyes behind his glasses. His focus was locked on you and only you, along with the orderly speaking to you for the last few minutes.

You were a nurse at Arkham, young and bright-eyed, so full of energy — and that caught Jonathan’s attention. Your unusually cheerful demeanour and sweet aura drew him in, whether he liked it or not. Maybe it was how you’d always give him a cute little wave every time he’d pass by you, or maybe it was how you’d smile at him when everyone else seemed to cower away from the stoic doctor. 

Or maybe it was because once he saw you leaving work in your everyday clothes instead of your usual scrubs, and when you seemingly bent over to pick up your keys which you dropped on the ground, he could see the lace of your pink panties poking out of your low-rise sweatpants — but I guess we’ll never know. 

See, that was the problem. You were so sweet, but you were like that with everyone you worked with; which made Jonathan feel inferior in many ways, but he promised himself that he’d have you eventually.

He didn’t want to hurt you by any means — oh god, no. He’d rather torture himself than watch you suffer through any anguish. However, he did want everyone around you to fall victim to a rather sinister fate if it meant they stayed away from you. 

Jonathan didn’t really consider himself a sadist, but watching those around you seemingly go missing and suddenly quit their jobs at Arkham (unwillingly, of course), derived an innate sense of pleasure within him. 

That was one of the perks of being the chief psychiatrist — he had all the power in the world to do whatever he pleased within the walls of Arkham, no matter who he hurt in the process. Jonathan would quietly fire many employees who he felt were “too friendly” with you, but he’d always tell you that they’d mysteriously quit or that they had changed jobs. 

“Perhaps they just didn’t have it in them to help the…unique patients we house here,” he’d say to you. “Not everyone is as dedicated and as kind as you are, you know?” 

Foolishly, you let his flattery get into your head; you let yourself fall for him without even realizing it.

You believed that the universe divinely guided you to him. You were sure of it — he was just so kind and understanding. You couldn’t believe the other staff of Arkham didn’t see him the way you did! How could they dislike him? Fear him? 

To Jonathan, you were like an angel that fell from above, capturing his cold, dead heart within your warm, beating, and very alive one. You were so kind to the patients, so gentle with them — and your patients only ever had good things to say about you. 

As you spoke to the orderly in front of you about what you did over the weekend, you noticed your boss looking rather tense from the corner of your eye. His jaw was clenched slightly, and his expression unforgiving. He exhaled sharply before ushering you over toward him, causing you to excuse yourself from your current conversation. 

“Doctor Crane,” you greeted sweetly, “how are you?”

“I’m rather stressed today,” he answered softly, taking on that same gentle tone that he always seemed to take with you. 

“Is everything okay?” 

“Everything is fine, but I'm worried about you.”

“What do you mean?” you asked innocently, cocking your head to the side slightly as if to emphasize your confusion. 

“I think perhaps we should speak in my office about this,” he offered. “Come with me, please.” 

Your smile suddenly faltered slightly as anxiety and paranoia ran rampant through your veins.

Your paranoid thoughts had to be put on the back burner as you took a seat across from him in his office, watching him as he sat down at his desk. His suit was pristine as always — and today, he opted for a brown sweater vest underneath it.

You’d count every thread and stitch on his suit for him if he asked you to. 

“Doctor Crane—”

“Just Jonathan is fine,” he interrupted before clearing his throat. “I wanted to speak to you in private about a certain concern of mine.” 

“What is it?”

He sighed before he took off his glasses and meticulously placed them on his desk. He leaned forward slightly, and you stayed quiet as he hesitated for a moment before his smooth voice finally cut through the silence in his office between the two of you. 

“I’m worried that you may be overworking yourself,” he explained, looking at you with his tantalizing eyes. “I notice you pick up shifts and work overtime frequently, and I worry that you may be taking on more than you can handle. As your boss, I just want to make sure that you’re not burning yourself out as that can’t be good for you, and I believe in a healthy work-life balance.”

You made an ‘o’ shape with your mouth, unsure as to what you could say to him — that wasn’t what you were expecting him to say to you. Perhaps you had been overworking yourself, but that was just a part of you. Having a strong work ethic was something you strongly believed in, but maybe he was right. You couldn’t care for your patients if you were too exhausted to, right? 

Now that he mentioned it, you were quite tired today. You started to think about it — as of recently, you’d been slamming coffees left right and center to stay awake at work, hadn’t you? You just wanted to help out since you were fairly new around here, but maybe it was doing you more damage than good.

Jonathan saw your usually cheerful demeanour deflate in his office, and he looked at you sympathetically, “I know this is not something you’d want to hear, especially from your boss of all people — but I just want to ensure that all my staff are doing well, you know?”

You bit your lip for a mere second, hesitating to speak before you let the words fall from your lips, “You know, Jonathan, sometimes I feel like you’re the only person here who actually…cares about me.” 

He internally applauded himself — in a moment of vulnerability, you sought out comfort in him. Just like he had planned. Just like he wanted.

“I think you’re an exceptional nurse,” he mused, “and truthfully, I do enjoy working alongside you. So yes, of course, I care about you. I remember when I first started working after finishing my residency, I would exhaust myself constantly. I’ve learned through many years that it’s just not good for you.” 

Jonathan’s plan was being executed perfectly — he wanted to isolate you. He wanted you to come running into his arms, far away from everyone else around you. He was on his worst behaviour today, but he believed you brought out the best in him. 

You weren’t overworking yourself, but with Jonathan’s quick wit, years of training in psychology, and exceptional gaslighting skills, you thought perhaps he was right. Maybe you should take some time off of work, you thought.

“Tell you what,” he said softly, “how about you and I have drinks tonight instead? Forget about work and such. I think you need it.”

His words caused your cheeks to heat up. He was your boss, and this was way out of line for a boss to ask an employee. However, it didn’t help that you were very attracted to him.

“Drinks?”

“My place at eight. I have a bottle of cabernet I think you’d enjoy — If I remember correctly, you said it was your favourite?” 

“Y-yeah,” you stammered. “It is.” 

“So I'll see you tonight at eight, then,” he smiled softly, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. “I’ll text you my address.” 

You nodded, slightly starstruck. 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Once you’d parked your car on the side of the neighbourhood street, you stepped out into the chilly night, your high heels clicking against the pavement of the ground loudly as you made your way onto his porch.

You gave three soft raps to his front door before you heard shuffling coming from inside the house. After a few moments, the front door swung open gently, and Jonathan stood there with a small smile on his face.

“Come inside,” he ushered you, “make yourself at home, darling.”

And so you did. 

You two talked over a few glasses of cabernet, bringing up the topic of work a few times here and there, but he mostly attempted to get to know the real you. What you did in your spare time, what your hobbies were, if you were seeing anyone…

“Out of curiosity, are you seeing anyone?” Jonathan asked you casually, but his voice dropped an octave as he looked directly at you, resting his hand on your thigh rather boldly. “I’m asking because I've seen the way you look at me…” 

“I-I’m sorry?” you stammered, your cheeks feeling warmer and warmer by the second with the way his hand was now resting on your leg. You couldn’t deny it now. “I didn’t mean…um, I just — you’re always so kind to me…and I–”

He shushed you softly, creeping his hand up a little further. “I’m quite flattered, darling. Not to worry,” he purred. “I figured it wouldn’t be very appropriate of me to tell you how hard it is for me to not look at you when you’re at work, but after today, I just don’t think I can help myself anymore…” 

Suddenly, his lips brushed up against yours, and as if it was instinct, your hands came to wrap around his shoulders. He let you pull him in even closer, his hands now coming to rest on your hips as you two kissed feverishly on his couch.

You and him were like a chemical reaction — explosive, unpredictable, and potentially fatal.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered against your lips in between kisses. 

A shiver ran down your spine as his hold on your hips tightened slightly, his words causing your brain to short-circuit for a moment before you could think clearly again. 

“Jonathan, I–”

“Don’t speak, just give into it, my darling.”

You let yourself get lost in the constellation that was Jonathan Crane, letting him run his hands all over your body and kiss you with an insatiable hunger. Soft moans left your mouth as he peppered kisses down your jawline and neck, nipping at the delicate skin gently. 

You would’ve been worried about him leaving marks because you wouldn’t want your boss to see the next day at work — but you had to remind yourself that he was your boss. 

But none of that mattered when it felt so right; when his lips felt so good against your skin.

“Can I take this off?” he rasped, toying with the strap of your dress. 

“Mhm,” you hummed. “Please, Jonathan…”

Slowly, he took the dress off of your body, gently tossing the garment to the side as he looked at you in absolute awe. It was like looking at a priceless piece of art in a museum exhibit to him — nothing could compare. Even a picture wouldn’t do the sight in front of him justice. 

“Should we go upstairs?” you suddenly asked. 

Maybe it was the handful of wine you’d shared that evening, or maybe it was just sheer arousal; you weren’t sure which one, but all you knew was that you needed him to have his way with you. 

“Yeah, of course,” he agreed, taking your hand in his. “Just up the stairs to the left — I think I'll let you lead the way, darling…”

The two of you got up from the couch, hand in hand, and Jonathan’s eyes roamed your body from behind as you made your way up the stairs together. 

Of course, you came prepared — you know, just in case things were to happen. Before you left, you threw on your sexiest, laciest, lingerie underneath your dress, and it was a good thing you did because that investment certainly paid off.

He watched your hips sway in your lingerie, along with the heels you were still wearing (because we simply can’t forget about those), and he could feel his cock straining against his pants. “Pretty girl,” he mumbled from behind you. “Your body is heavenly.” 

“Shush,” you giggled, grabbing him by his tie and pulling him close once you reached the bedroom. 

He looked down at you in the dim lighting of his bedroom, noticing the way your skin was glowing under it. Your hair was slightly messy from making out on the couch earlier, and you had a small smile tugging at your lips — you were perfection if he’d ever seen it. 

Jonathan kissed you rougher this time, his hands finding their way into your hair, tugging ever so gently against your scalp. He backed you up onto the bed, pushing you down onto it as he undid his tie, looming over your delicate body which was sprawled out on his king-sized bed. 

After taking his tie off, he threw off his suit jacket and started to unbutton his shirt. You hummed softly, running your heel against his leg as he rushed to get himself out of his clothes. The tent in his pants made it all the more obvious how desperate he truly was for you, but you stayed patient. 

Once he was on the bed with you, he helped you out of your bra and panties, causing your cheeks to heat up from how exposed you felt. “You’re cute when you blush,” he commented when he noticed your blush, making you all the more flustered while he undid his belt. 

After freeing himself, his thick, veiny cock caught your attention, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. He was big — you weren’t sure how that was supposed to fit, but right now you were so wet, you were almost certain your walls would stretch out around him with ease. 

He lined himself up with your dripping entrance, giving himself a few strokes before looking at you with his lip caught between his teeth. “Are you sure?” he whispered, and you nodded feverishly. 

“Please,” you whimpered.

Your back was arched and you let out a filthy moan as he slid himself into your warm, sticky cunt with little resistance. The sheer size of him alone had you feeling so full, and he stilled as he bottomed out in you so that you could adjust to him. “Tell me when,” he said softly, his hand coming to brush up against your hips softly. 

“You can move now,” you breathlessly said, giving him the green light. Your breath got caught in your throat as he started to set a gentle but deep pace, the tip of his cock brushing against that spongy spot inside of you with every thrust. 

“O-oh–” you moaned.

His hands found purchase on your hips, and his eyes trailed over your face as he fucked you sensually, but slowly, eventually going harder and faster as you got accumulated to him. “So fucking tight, Jesus—” he choked out. You’d never heard him curse before, and his smooth voice had you clenching around him, to which he let out another moan. “Fuck, darling — you feel so good.” 

“Mm-hmm!” you squeaked, taking his cock deeper and deeper into your soaked cunt with every stroke. “Jonathan, fuck—!”

“Right there, darling?” he cooed softly, slamming his cock into your hole much rougher now, causing you to see stars as he stretched you open on his thickness. “Feels good, baby?” 

“Yes, yes, yes — oh my god!” you chanted, grabbing onto his biceps as you felt his fat cock drilling you. You were letting out feverish moans, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you became increasingly more cock-drunk by the minute. 

Your moans were like music to Jonathan. Like the sound he would hear being played once he died and went to heaven — because to him, this was heaven. You’d come running into the arms of the man who was slowly isolating you, breaking you; cornering you into his heart. 

But there’s always something so right about something so inherently wrong, isn’t there? 

“I can feel you squeezing me,” he groaned, watching you with furrowed brows as he concentrated on your pleasure. “Are you close, darling? Fuck, you are, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you whimpered breathlessly, moans being forced out of you with every delicious thrust he gave your cunt. “Gonna– oh, I’m gonna cum!” 

Jonathan watched in a mixture of pure bliss, awe, and satisfaction as you fell apart in his very hands. Yes — this is where he wanted you. He just wanted to love you, to show you how perfect he was for you, to take care of you and make you see that everyone else around you was just a waste of time. 

No more talking to orderlies who’d flirt with you, no more going out for after-work drinks with the other nurses. No, none of that. He was going to make sure that you’d work under him only, figuratively and literally.

“Gon’ cum,” he groaned, feeling his cock spurting ropes of cum into your warm, tight hole as he gave you a few more lazy thrusts, not bothering to pull out. Your mind went blank as he filled you up wholly, stuffing you with his sticky, warm seed as you lay there fucked out from what just happened moments prior. “Why don’t you stay over tonight?”

You looked up at him groggily, mind still foggy from your orgasm. “What? I work tomorrow–”

“Take a paid day off,” he shrugged, pulling his softening cock out from your worn-out hole. “Use as many as you’d like darling, I won’t tell.” 

His teasing words caused you to throw your head back into the pillows blissfully with a sigh, genuinely believing that he only had your best interest at heart — he just didn’t want you to overwork yourself. It’s not like he was planning on totally locking you away from every living being in Gotham besides him or anything…

“I feel bad though,” you murmured sleepily. “I feel like I’m – I dunno – abusing my privileges.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, pretty girl,” Jonathan assured you softly, turning off the lights so that only the moonlight was dimly shining into his bedroom. He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head as he pulled the covers over you both, cradling you in his arms like you were made of fine china. “You know I only want what’s best for you.”

“You’re so lovely, Jon. You truly have such a kind soul.” 

“Surely nothing compared to yours, my darling,” he whispered against your hair as you closed your eyes. “Now, get some rest. We can talk about moving your things in here in the morning…”

Unfortunately, you had already dozed off in his embrace; too busy being washed away by sleep to hear his words. Jonathan smiled to himself — he’d never let you go now. You’d lost all control the moment you stepped into his house, unknowingly making yourself a hostage of some sort.  

In the end, as you clung to him, believing he was the saviour from your exhaustion, you failed to see that it was his “love” that had slowly consumed you whole, leaving you nothing but a hollow shell, devoured by the very hands that promised refuge.

Sometimes, the most dangerous traps are the ones we walk into willingly, thinking they’re the key to our freedom, as they say. But the cruel irony of it all is that we think we’re being saved from the jaws of this terrible world, only to be eaten alive by those who we call our saviours. 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

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

[hllywdwhre]

Revenge - Tommy Shelby

Summary: Reader takes personal offense over Sabini’s attack on Tommy

Warnings: arranged marriage, graphic depictions of violence, reader leaves a message written in blood, smut, creampie, light degrading, oral smut (f receiving), overstim, p in v, let me know if I missed any

Notes: I made this text post about protective reader and decided to write it lmfao. I want Tommy with a feral woman. Thank you to @slut4thebroken for proof reading, encouragement, and suggestions💖

MDNI, 18+ only

You weren’t quite sure how it had happened.

Scratch that.

You knew exactly how it had happened.

Your father and Tommy had worked out a deal when Sabini had first started trying to intimidate your father. A bride in exchange for protection and both of them walked away with extra allies when the inevitable war against Sabini broke out. You’d protested the marriage at first, screaming that you were more than just a political pawn for your father to sell when he needed help, but it went through anyway.

You had to admit, it wasn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened. Sure, Tommy was distant and seemed obsessed with work, but you knew you could’ve ended up in a much worse situation. He treated you with respect, never let you open a door on your own if he was around, always had a protective hand rested in the small of your back, and… the sex was great.

Perhaps the thing you appreciated the most, was that he didn’t expect you to become the housewife you had feared you would be reduced to. You were your father’s only child, meaning when he died, you would become leader of his gang. You were a gangster the same way Tommy was and he seemed to realize that and respect it. You helped out with the daily runnings of the Peaky Blinders and helped with the daily runnings of your father’s gang at the same time. They both recognized your potential and weren’t afraid to use it.

It wasn’t until you were sitting in a family meeting about a year after your marriage that you realized you had grown to feel more than just okay with the marriage.

Tommy was a closed off individual and through the entire year you had been married, you felt like you were just starting to finally get to know the real him. You never pried because he never pried in your life. If you had general questions, neither of you were afraid to ask them, but anything more was left up for the person to tell. You had more questions than answers still, specifically about the matching scars on his cheeks, but you didn’t dare ask. He hadn’t asked about the scar that ran from your right shoulder blade down to your spine, so you didn’t ask about his scars.

It was a common occurrence for Esme, Ada, and Polly to sit with you at one of the desks in the betting shop, whispering things to you during family meetings to fill in any gaps and answer any questions you may have had.

“Alfie has informed me that the Sicilians are being provided aid by Sabini, in the form of cars and housing,” Tommy started, causing Arthur to let out a loud groan of frustration.

Before you could get dragged into hearing any more of it, you turned your head to Esme who was sitting next to you.

“Sabini’s a prick, I know that, but what has he done to us?” You asked quietly, your eyes still flickering back-and-forth between Tommy and the rest of his family as they spoke about what to do next.

Esme began explaining exactly what Sabini had done. How he and five other men came after Tommy in the dark of night, how he’d ripped out a tooth, sliced his cheeks, and beat him to an inch of his life.

The rage that settled inside of you was your first hint that you had grown to genuinely care for Tommy as more than just a friend and (amazing) fuck buddy. Your jaw remained clenched and set for the rest of the meeting, but as soon as the meeting was called to end, you wiped the look from your face and forced a calm expression to take over.

You stood up and walked over to Tommy, forcing a small smile to your lips,

“I’m not really feeling all that well. You go with your brothers for a drink, I’m just going to head back home, okay?” You said, meeting his eyes so he wouldn’t have a reason to not believe you.

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed together as he tried to look for any sign you were lying. You had been fine that morning and fine two hours prior when you sat down for the meeting, but he had no reason to believe you were lying so he simply nodded, placed a hand on the small of your back to pull you closer to him, and kissed your forehead.

“I won’t be out long. Ask Frances for anything you need, okay, love?”

You nodded and the forced smile turned to a genuine one,

“I will, promise,” you told him before stepping away from him and waving goodbye to the rest of the family.

Yes. You had truly gotten lucky when it came to who you had been forced to marry.

The entire ride back to the Arrow House, you were silent and going over your plan in your head. You knew you’d have to earn Tommy’s trust back after this, but you didn’t particularly care. You were a force of nature on your best day. You were lethal when you were angry.

Once you arrived back, you immediately headed upstairs to yours and Tommy’s shared room. The marriage may have started off with the two of you in separate rooms, “I’m called the devil, but that doesn’t mean I’m some sort of monster. You can sleep in your own room until you’re comfortable sharing a bed,” but it didn’t take more than a couple weeks for you to eventually join him in bed.

Damn those blue eyes, full lips, and that jawline.

You grabbed a small bag and threw the first set of clothes you laid hands on into it, then, much more carefully, a dress. You grabbed everything else you needed and headed to Tommy’s office next.

I’ll be back soon. I’m sorry for lying, but I’ll be back.

You signed the note and left it in the center of his desk where you knew he would see it, held down by his ashtray.

As quickly as you had entered the house, you left it, getting right back into the car with the driver Tommy had employed for you. You told him the name of a hotel in London that you knew was just outside of anyone’s territory.

The drive seemed to pass by too quickly and soon you were saying goodbye to the driver and sending him home for the night. It was barely 7 in the evening when you got up to your room.

“If there is a God, please let me get through this. I’ll make it up to you… somehow,” you said quietly.

The beading on the dress swayed loudly around your body as you pulled the dress on. The pins in your hair seemed to be extra noticeable against your scalp. The straps on your shoes pressed into your skin more than usual. The blade held against your thigh and hidden by your dress seemed to refuse to warm up. Your left hand felt entirely too light with your ring missing.

You knew it was only your mind playing tricks on you. You’d worn this outfit before and it had always turned heads, which is exactly what you wanted.

You needed Sabini to notice you.

You greeted the cab driver politely as you stepped in and ignored the way his eyes seemed to follow you a bit too closely.

The doors of the club were held open for you and you made your way to the bar and took a seat, knowing you were just playing a waiting game now.

You could feel eyes on you. The wife of Thomas Shelby in Sabini’s club, hours away from Birmingham, far out of Peaky Blinders territory or her father’s territory. You stuck out like a sore thumb, even if you would have blended in during any other scenario.

It felt like an eternity passed before you finally saw the man that made your blood boil, but one glance at the clock above the bar told you it hadn’t even been an hour.

“You seem lost. I thought we had made it clear that your kind weren’t welcomed here,” Sabini said once he was in front of you.

A charming smile graced your lips and you looked up at him,

“My kind?” You questioned, playing innocent.

“Yes. Your kind. You’re the wife of Thomas Shelby and I don’t appreciate him ignoring the last warning I gave him and sending you-“

“I wasn’t sent here,” you stopped him, lifting your left hand and pushing a piece of hair that hadn’t fallen back behind your ear, “and I’m not really a Shelby or a Blinder, am I?”

His eyes were drawn to your hand and noticed the lack of a ring you wore and he quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Is that so? I was under the impression the two of you were lovebirds.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your lips and looked away, trying to come off as shy. When you looked back up to him, you hoped the look on his face meant he was intrigued and believing you.

“Perhaps we could talk about it somewhere else… somewhere private?” You asked him, batting your eyelashes as you did so.

Gods help you. The smirk he gave you made your stomach twist and you wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face, but patience was something you’d adopted a lot of.

“Allow me to show you to my office then,” he said, offering you a hand which you forced yourself to take.

He guided you through the club and towards the back. Some amount of luck seemed to be on your side as his office was behind the stage and provided some cover for any noise you might make. Even more so as you noticed a window just large enough for you to be able to crawl out of.

Once the door was shut behind you, he sat down behind his desk and motioned for you to take a seat in one of the chairs on the opposite side.

“Trouble in paradise, I take it,” Sabini said as he poured you both a drink.

“It was never paradise to begin with,” you replied, thanking him for the drink and taking a sip.

You had grown used to Tommy’s Irish whiskey and the bourbon he gave you wasn’t nearly as smooth going down.

“Was it not? From what I’ve heard, you two have quite the fairytale. Gang leader’s daughter married off to another gang leader, uniting two empires.”

“That’s not the way I see it,” you lied.

“And how do you see it?”

“A desperate father sold off his daughter to a desperate gang leader in an attempt for the both of them to gain more power and disregarded the woman’s wishes,” you replied simply, shrugging your shoulders.

“And so you’ve come to London for what?” Sabini questioned, wanting to hear you say it.

“Because I think we can help each other, Mr. Sabini,” you said, downing the rest of the bourbon and standing up.

His eyes followed your movements, his eyes trailing up your body before resting on your legs again.

“And how do you think we could help each other?” He asked.

You moved to stand in front of him, placing one leg over the side of his and straddled him, placing your arms around his neck.

“They trust me, Mr. Sabini. They don’t suspect me of anything,” you started. The shiver of disgust that rolled up your spine due to his hands trailing up the back of your thighs was one he apparently took as excitement as he gripped slightly at the backs of them, “I can tell you everything and, in return, I get out of my marriage once they’re all gone.”

“They don’t even realize the ticking time bomb they’ve got in their fingertips, do they?” He asked and a chuckle left your lips as a genuine smirk took over.

“They don’t…” you said, trailing your hands down his chest and then up your thigh, trying to make the move appear seductive. Your fingers wrapped around the hilt of your knife, “and neither do you, apparently.”

His eyes widened and he realized the trap he had walked into at the same time as you pressed the blade of the knife to his neck.

“I’d say that if you ever threaten my husband or our family again, you’ll regret it, but you won’t be,” you told him, unable to resist pausing for a touch of dramatic effect before adding on, “Never fuck with a Shelby.”

In the next second, you were quickly slicing the knife across his neck and flinching back as his blood coated you.

You knew your next move was morbid, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It had been morbid for him and five other men to attack your husband when he was alone. It was morbid for him to rip out his tooth. It had been morbid for him to slice his cheeks. It was just as morbid for you to quickly and quietly clear off his desk, dip your fingers into his blood, and leave a bloodied message across his desk.

Revenge is a scorned Shelby

As soon as the message was written, you grabbed one of the coats from the coat rack and slipped it on, then crawled out of the window. The coat was long enough to cover all of the bloodied mess that was now your dress.

Sabini is dead.

That seemed to be the only thing you could think of as you were driven back to the Arrow House. It wasn’t the first time you had killed a man and you knew it wouldn’t be last.

But you hadn’t told anyone about this time. You hadn’t told anyone your plan, where you were going, or why you were doing it. You had also just started a war.

You weren’t surprised to see almost every light in the house still on when you arrived, and you made sure to slip the cab driver a little extra for the long drive.

You hadn’t risked staying in London longer than you needed to. You had gone into your hotel room, grabbed your bag, and promptly left, only taking the time to slip your wedding ring back on when you were in the cab.

When you stepped into the house, Tommy was in the hallway. All he saw as you stepped in the door was you, in another man’s coat, your wedding ring still on your finger, but your hair and makeup done much differently than it had been you had left.

You stayed silent as you stared at him with nervousness written on your face.

He put out his cigarette and quirked an eyebrow at you, a silent prompt for you to explain yourself.

Your silent explanation was to undo the tie on the coat and let it fall to the floor, revealing your blood stained dress.

“I need a fucking drink for this one,” Tommy grumbled, motioning for you to follow him. He guided you to his office and poured both of you a drink, handed you your glass, then sat down in his office chair. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Do you want the short version or the long version?” You asked, a smirk on your face as he looked up at where you still stood across the room.

Despite himself, he couldn’t help but chuckle and shrug his shoulders,

“Humor me. Short version first,” he told you.

“About a year ago I got married, and tonight I started a war.”

Tommy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk and running a hand over his face, “Long version.”

“About a year ago, I got married. Over the past year my husband has been nothing but a respectful gentleman, making it nearly impossible for me not to fall for him when you combine it with his fucking blue eyes that could bring the devil to his knees,” you started, feeling the hint of a blush creep into your cheeks, which you knew he noticed by the way his eyes flicked to your cheeks and then back to your eyes, “then today we had a meeting with his family where he mentioned Sabini. When I asked, his sister-in-law told me about what Sabini had done to him. About how my husband had been beaten to an inch of his life and brutalized, leaving him permanently scarred, and I knew I had to make the bastard pay.

“So, I lied to my husband and said I didn’t feel well. I went home, packed a bag, left him a note saying I’d be back, and went to London. I rented a hotel room where I changed into a fancy dress and did my hair and makeup, then I wrapped a knife to my thigh and slid my wedding ring into my bag and went to The Eden Club. News of a Shelby woman spread quickly and Sabini showed up to question me within an hour. I lied to Sabini, told him that I didn’t want to be a Shelby and that I had never wanted to be one. He took me back to his office and I sat on his lap and made him think I was about to cheat on my husband when I slit his throat and made sure he knew it was because of what he’d done to my husband. I left a message on his desk, went back to the hotel, grabbed my bag, and then headed back to our house.”

Silence filled the room for a long moment as Tommy stared at you. His eyes were unreadable as he watched you.

“What did the message say?” He suddenly asked.

“Revenge is a scorned Shelby.”

“Nothing about the Peaky Blinders?” He asked curiously, tilting his head slightly.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It wasn’t Peaky business,” you answered confidently, watching him just as closely as he watched you as he stood from his chair and came to stand in front of you.

“Was it not?” He questioned, taking the untouched glass of whiskey from your hand and setting it on the desk before turning back to stare you down.

“No. It was Shelby business, but not Peaky business.”

“Explain.”

“He didn’t just harm a Peaky Blinder. He harmed a Shelby, my Shelby.” Your gaze was unwavering as you held eye contact with him. You wanted him to know you meant your words. He was yours, and the protective touches on your back when you were in public and the way he intimidated and glared at any man who tried approaching you was all the proof you needed to know that you were his.

“So I’m your Shelby?” He asked as he took a step towards you and continued to do so until you pressed against the office door.

“Yes.”

“And that means you’re mine?” He questioned, his hands now pressed against the wall on either side of your head.

You could feel that you were walking into some sort of trap, but you didn’t have a way out of it right now. All you could do was be honest.

“Yes.”

“Then you should know something about what it means to be mine.”

“What’s that?” You asked, your breathing getting shorter as he lowered his face so it was level with yours.

In a second his hands were on your waist and he had you picked up against the wall with legs instinctively wrapping around his hips.

“My Shelby is to never come home wearing another man’s coat again,” he said, pressing his lips to yours in a rough kiss.

You don’t know what reaction you had expected from him, but being pinned to his office door and him kissing you hadn’t been one you had thought of. Your shock wore off after half a second and you returned the kiss as your arms wrapped around his neck to keep him close.

“You’re not mad?” You asked against his lips.

“At you starting a war?” He questioned, leaning down and beginning to trail kisses hastily down your neck.

“Yes,” you replied, leaning your head back to give him more access.

“Livid,” he said with no hint of joking in his voice.

“This is quite the punishment,” you replied sarcastically. A moan fell from your lips as he nipped at your pulse point.

“Oh, I’m livid,” he said, looking up at you, “but also extremely turned on at the thought of my wife slicing a man’s throat over me and coming home still covered in his blood.”

You weren’t given a chance to respond before he was kissing you again. Your hands came down to his tie, pulling it loose before starting to work at the buttons of his waistcoat.

He didn’t bother setting you down, only turned the two of you around and walked you over to the couch in the office. He laid you down on it and then pulled the waistcoat off before leaning back down between your legs and kissing you again once. His lips started trailing down your neck again while your hands went to undo the buttons of his shirt.

“Someone’s impatient tonight,” he teased as nipped at your skin again.

“You’re the one who pinned me to the door after I revealed I killed a man for you,” you replied in the same teasing tone as him. You undid the last button of his shirt and pushed the fabric off his shoulders, his undershirt following a second later.

He reached his hand to the side of your dress and unzipped it, pulling the fabric down your body while his hands grabbed hold of your underwear, stockings, and garters in the same move and pulled them off, leaving you completely naked underneath him.

He stared and looked over your body a moment longer before running his hands up your thighs and giving a gentle tap to your thigh,

“Up,” he said, causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion.

You did as told though and sat up, leaving him enough room to lay on his back and pull you up to straddle him,

“Was killing a man not enough work?” You teased, not actually minding if he was going to have you ride him. At least it meant you wouldn’t be subjected to him teasing you when all you really wanted was for him to fuck you.

“That’s cute,” he said sarcastically, gripping your thighs and attempting to pull you further up his torso, “that’s not where you’re sitting tonight.”

The man was no stranger at using his mouth to make you see stars, but you’d never ridden his face before. You looked at him, the question obvious on your face.

“Seriously?” You asked even though you knew by his face that he was.

“Seriously. You were enough of a leader to go after Sabini, you’re enough of a leader to sit on my face. Up,” he repeated again while his grip on your thighs tried pulling you forward.

You did as you were told this time, shuffling forward until you were straddling his face. You weren’t given a choice of when to sit as his hands came to your hips and pulled you down, forcing your full weight onto his waiting mouth.

If there was one thing you were grateful for, it was Thomas’ ability to use his tongue and lips in more than just outsmarting his enemies.

His tongue trailed through your lips, his hands keeping your hips in place, while his tongue slowly explored you at first.

It had only taken a couple weeks for you to crack and make the first move on Tommy, joining him in bed one night when you’d decided you could trust him, and you’d been insatiable and addicted to him ever since, though he never complained. He’d spent the first couple times figuring out every move that made you tick and every name that made your cheeks flush and used them to his advantage at every turn.

His tongue was a gift with the way he knew exactly how to use it. He dragged it up and down between your folds, drinking in every bit of your arousal before focusing on your clit, alternating between quick flicks and long drags.

Tommy’s hands on your hips began guiding them, silently instructing you to take control. You didn’t hesitate in going along with what he wanted you to do and began rocking your hips. One of your hands trailed to his hair while your other went to lay on top of one his that gripped your hip. You hadn’t realized the volume of your moans until you felt the vibration of his moan against your clit.

Your hips jerked at the added stimulation and he hummed against you purposefully, his eyes never leaving you as your hips sped up, chasing your own high. Within moments you could feel it approaching and your grip on his hair and hand tightened, moans of his name falling from your mouth like a prayer.

“Please, fuck,” you cried, whimpers falling from your lips, “Tommy, Tommy…”

Your high crashed over you a moment later and you felt Tommy’s movements begin to slow down as you rode out your high, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you caught your breath.

You went to move off of him, but his grip on your hips tightened at the same time that his tongue started speeding up again.

Your moans of pleasure turned to whimpers of over stimulation and you squirmed against him, but he didn’t let up. Your hips jerked as you tried moving away from him, but all it did was add to the stimulation.

You could practically feel him smirking underneath you as he continued on, watching as your eyes clenched shut and you relented yourself to letting him torture you so beautifully.

If it wasn’t for the way your body was on edge from not being given any type of break after your first orgasm, you might have felt slightly ashamed at the way he was able to bring you to your second orgasm so quickly.

And then your third.

Tears were freely falling from your face when he finally slowed his movements to a stop and helped you to lay down on your back.

He trailed soft and slow kisses along your thighs and stomach to help bring you back down to earth. When his lips reconnected with yours, you returned the kiss, letting your eyes fall shut at the surprisingly tender moment.

“Next time you want to start a war, at least let me know your plans,” he said, causing you to open your eyes and be met with a smirk dancing across his lips, “and don’t doubt my punishments.”

You could’ve smacked the smirk off his face if it wasn’t for the fact he had turned your entire body into mush.

“Think you can be a good girl and handle one more?” He asked.

Your cheeks flushed at the praise and his hands moved to his belt and pants, pulling them off after you nodded your confirmation.

Once the rest of his clothes had been removed, he gently lifted your legs and positioned himself between them. He was gentle as he pushed inside you, but the smirk on his face from the way your voice cracked when you moaned was obvious.

The stretch was familiar at this point, but it didn’t mean you didn’t need the moment he gave you to adjust. When you nodded your head, he started moving.

Tommy knew your body like he knew his own after your time together. His hips immediately changed position as he started thrusting, making sure to hit the spot inside you that added to the ways your legs shook underneath him.

He leaned down and placed his elbows on either side of your head, capturing your lips in a kiss right as a moan parted through them. One of his hands came back to cradle the back of your head and his fingers tangled into your hair to keep you close to him.

His other hand went to one of your legs and pulled it up so it rested in the crook of his elbow, causing him to hit even deeper inside you.

The action caused you to let out a high pitched moan and you wrapped your arms around him. Your next moan broke the passionate kiss the two of you had shared while your nails raked down his back.

“Who do you belong to?” He asked, beginning to speed up the movements of his hips.

“Y-you,” you moaned out, your back arching underneath him.

“Say my name. Who do you belong to?” He repeated.

“Thomas Shelby,” you answered and dropped your head back.

“Good girl. You’re my fucking wife,” he moaned out. He sat up, using one hand to keep your leg up in the same position while his other hand went to your already over sensitive clit, “all mine. No other man gets to touch you, look at you, or even fucking think of you. It’s my cock that you’re whimpering over right now, and it’s the only cock you’ll ever be whimpering over again.”

“I’m yours, Tommy,” you repeated, your voice breaking as moan after moan fell from your lips.

“Then cum for me. Be a good Shelby wife and make a fucking mess on my cock just like how you made a mess of this war tonight,” he commanded.

You didn’t need any more encouragement from him as your fourth orgasm hit you, causing your back to arch again and your nails to run down his arms.

His moves start to become more sloppy and his pace sped up as he began to chase his own high, the feeling of your cunt squeezing around his cock only driving him closer to the edge.

“Want to feel you Tommy, please,” you moaned underneath him, “please, cum inside me.”

“Fuck,” he swore out. His hips pushing against yours as his high hit him and his arms came down to either side of your head again while he shoved his face into your neck, completely claiming you as his own while his cum filled you.

His hips slowed as he rode out both of your highs and your arms came to wrap around him, placing a gentle kiss on the side of his head you could reach.

Once the two of your breathing had slowed down to a normal pace, he moved to push himself up and your legs around his waist tightened along with your arms.

“Don’t. Not yet,” you said in a quiet voice.

“I’m going to crush you, love.” He placed soft kisses along your shoulders between his words as he tried warning you.

“I’m a grown woman. I’ll tell you if it’s too much,” you replied and began running your nails softly along the shaved part of his head, knowing the motion worked on him every time.

“Stubborn,” he falsely chided, but relented and relaxed back into your hold.

“Little late to the party if you’ve just worked that out.” Your reply causing both of you to chuckle. “Remind me to start more wars if it means you fuck me like that every time.”

His hand came down and gently slapped your thigh in response while a burst of quiet giggles left your lips.

“Stubborn and a brat,” he teased, sitting up again and carefully sliding out of you.

“Too bad you’re stuck with me,” you responded with a smirk.

“I don’t think of it that way,” he said as he stood up and wrapped his arms under your waist and legs before pulling you up into his arms.

“How do you think of it?” You asked him as he carried you across the hall and into your shared room.

“I think I’m lucky enough to be married to a woman who killed for me over a years-old attack even though we’d never even said that we loved each other.” He set you down in the middle of the bed before crawling in next to you and pulling you into his chest.

A bright blush rose to your face as he pointed out that you had never even said you loved each other, even though you had admitted to him earlier that you had fallen for him. You didn’t know how to reply immediately and you turned in his arms to look up at him, his arms staying locked around your waist.

He didn’t seem to expect you to reply though, because he leaned in to you, pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was tender and sweet, as if he was trying to communicate what your actions had meant to him without having the words to say it.

“I fell for you, too,” he finally admitted, “I don’t know when it happened, but I know that I realized it tonight. The panic I felt to see your note and to see you come home covered in blood. The anger I felt over seeing you another man’s jacket. The way I felt when you revealed what you had done and why…” He trailed off, looking down at you and seeming to try and memorize every part of your face, “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours and you’re mine,” you replied, leaning up to kiss him.

“I’m yours and you’re mine.”

[drcranessweetestdoe]

heyyyyy

could you do a Tommy shelby fic?

in which he fucks Ada's bestfriend when she is 18!

hii, love this idea xx I have been writing this all day, time to celebrate with a jam sandwich:) xx

Finally mine

warning: agegap!, Thomas lusts after her while she is underage, grooming, virginity loss, virginity kink, innocence kink, unprotected sex, Tommy being a softie, possessiveness

pairing: Thomas Shelby x Innocent!Reader

summary: ever since he came back from the war, Tommy found himself wanting his sister’s lovely and sweet best friend, too bad he has to wait until she is 18

(Y/N) was the sweetest girl in the whole of Birmingham, always polite and kind. Thomas was smitten with her from day one. She and Ada met in school, she felt sorry that Ada was always alone, because everyone told their kids to stay away from the filthy Shelby’s. So, one day she gathered the courage and sat beside the sad girl, who was very excited to finally have a friend.

It was the age of war, so everyone was always on the edge of a meltdown. And money wasn’t exactly falling from the sky. While (Y/N)’s family weren’t considered aristocrats by any chance, she never had to worry about not getting fed, or not having a warm bed to sleep in. That was something that the Shelby’s couldn’t exactly relate to, there was little money and quite a few mouths to feed. Aunt Polly tried her best to feed the hungry children at the table, but she was failing more and succeeding less. Her sister-in-law’s three big boys were away at war, but they were always talked about.

One day, the thirteen year old (Y/N) plopped down beside her best friend Ada with a full lunch box in hand. She always had lunch packed with her, but Ada never did. For a long time, she just assumed that the malnourished girl was not hungry in school. While she was munching on her apple, she heard the growl of a hungry belly and Ada turned her head down in shame. While a girl is naive at 13, (Y/N) immediately knew that her friend was hungry, and that she probably didn’t get as much food at home as she did. When Ada looked back at her, she reacted with a wide smile to the outstretched hand towards her, holding a big red apple.

For the rest of the break, they just sat under their tree, silently chewing on their apples, with a smile on both faces.

That is how Ada knew that (Y/N) was going to be her lifelong best friend. She opened up to her when they were sharing a cigarette on the edge of the forest.

“We had more money before the war, if Tommy was here he would make sure that we have food.” Ada explained.

(Y/N) just blinked at her friend. “Who’s Tommy?”

———-

Three years later, the girls were now sixteen and the war was finally over. Because (Y/N) herself didn’t have any brothers, or sisters, she didn’t know how many families waited for this day to come.

It was a pretty summer day, and she made her way to the Shelby household, where she was always welcomed by Aunt Polly. Except, when she walked into the house, there was only one man sitting at the table. Her breath got stuck in her throat and she blushed heavily, he was very handsome. For a moment she believed that she walked into the wrong house, but the photographs on the walls proved otherwise. He was smoking a cigarette and staring at the wall blankly, he was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even hear her come in.

Thomas just wanted a moment to himself in his childhood house before going back to the Garrison, he was not the same man anymore. Suddenly, he saw a figure in the corner of his eye. A second later, the two pairs of eyes met. His previously sad eyes lit up at the sight of her, but he tried to conceal it. She was so beautiful… Slender and weakish frame, something that made him eager to protect her. Her long and soft looking hair. And that face, oh god, that pretty face.

“H-Hi… I’m (Y/N).” She walked closer to him and stuck her hand out for him, she recognized him from the pictures, he was one of Ada’s brothers.

He heard about her, Aunt Pol always told him what was happening on Watery Lane in the letters she sent to Tommy. She had mentioned Ada’s lovely friend, multiple times. She told him that the girl was pretty, very kind, and that she went with her to church on Sundays when no one else wanted to, just so Polly didn’t have to go alone.

Tommy smiled at her, and she felt herself get lost in those bright blue gems of eyes. Instead of shaking her hand, he brought it to his lips and planted a little kiss on it. Her hand was soft and warm, it was a while since he felt the touch of a gentle female. He smiled when she blushed more at his kiss. “Thomas Shelby.”

—----

From that day on, Miss (Y/L/N) was under the protection of the Peaky Blinders. Thomas always had one of his men following her and Ada to school, and then back home. It killed him knowing that he couldn’t touch her, make her his, not yet anyway. That would have been immoral and awful, and he knew that aunt Pol would have broken his hand in two and cut off his cock. That didn’t mean he hadn’t spent too many night fucking his fist to the thought of her. Everyone in the Shelby clan could see how soft he was towards her, always making sure that she stays out of the bad things, and whenever she came over and he was working, his eyes basically formed into hearts and followed her everywhere. The family loved her, she enjoyed baking and she always made sure that at least once a week she turned up to the office with home-baked treats. Those kinds of sweet treats calmed everyone down, business was blooming after all.

Ever since Tommy came back from the war, he only let himself be pleasured by whores, the one girl he wanted was the one he had to wait for. He always hired prostitutes that resembled her even the slightest bit. He imagined that he was burying himself inside her wet and warm walls, he overheard her and Ada and he was very well aware that she was untouched, a sweet little virgin. In Small Heath, the girls started sleeping around in their teens, but she, at 17, didn’t care about the boys her age. She wanted a certain gangster, who was nearing his thirties.

He didn’t even claim her yet, but wherever she walked, everyone knew she was Tommy Shelby’s girl. He sent her gifts, and always a handwritten note. Her heart never failed to warm up when she saw the little T.S on the bottom of the cards. Flowers, chocolates, exotic spices that she could put in her sweet treats, jewellery, dresses, everything a 17 year old girl loves. She was spoiled by him. When she wore one of the dresses that he got for her, she always sent him a shy smile and a little nod.

—-----

Tomorrow was going to be the day when she would finally become 18 years old, a young lady. She felt so antsy getting to bed, knowing that she would wake up as an adult. She also deeply hoped that Tommy would do something, after 2 years of gifts, protection and lustful gazes from distance. It was safe to say that her standards were very much heightened.

When she woke up, she noticed a big box on the chair of her vanity, tied up in one of those big ribbons. Her mother must have brought it up for her, as she always did when her daughter’s name was on the box, written by the familiar handwriting.

She was smiling widely when she opened the box up, it had a beautiful silky dress and a gold locket necklace. She marvelled at the divine fabric, but quickly blushed when she looked into the box again. There was a set of white lingerie and a note.

Tonight, I’ll send a car to pick you up at 7pm, be ready.

~T.S

She melted at that, and she felt her lower tummy warm up. This evening, she will finally be claimed.

——-

By the time 7pm rolled around, she did everything she could to make herself look pretty for him. She took a long hot bath, made sure she smelled good everywhere. She washed her hair and tied up half of it with a bow. She put lotion all over herself, sprayed herself with perfume and put the lovely dress on. Sitting in her vanity, she put on some makeup. She felt beautiful.

She got her light coat on, along with kitten heels and she was waiting for his car to come. When it did, she sat in the backseat and greeted the driver.

She got driven to Arrow house, which she only heard about before. It was so huge, and overwhelming, but very nice.

A maid took her coat and escorted her to the dining roomom. Just like the rest of the house, it was quite big, both the room itself and the table. It was decorated elegantly, the candlelight flooded the room. Just as she stepped in, Thomas walked in the room on the other door. He looked so handsome as always, with his muscular frame and his tailored suit.

His heart nearly jumped out of his chest, she looked like an angel, and she was standing in his house, wearing his gift. The maid left, now there were only two of them in the room, he walked up to her. With a gentle hand on her waist, he pulled her closer so he could plant a kiss on her cheek and whisper in her ear. “You look absolutely gorgeous.” He got even closer, her head was spinning with him so close, his masculine scent sent her hormones into overdrive. “I hope the dress isn’t the only gift of mine on you.”

He felt his dick twitch when she looked up at him like that, a gentle glint in her eyes. She shaked her head, too lost in his eyes to answer with words. To shake her out of her trance, he guided her to her seat, with his hand still on her slender waist.

He sat next to her, the maids kept on serving the finest of foods. Thomas also brought out a bottle of red wine. Both of them were surprised how easy it was for them to talk. They talked and ate, and Tommy even found himself laughing. He also found out how innocent she was, she wasn’t stupid, just inexperienced, and he was more than happy to give her experience. She also had a big heart, and a gentle soul, she was everything he needed.

While everyone in Small Heath tried to warn her about Thomas Shelby, she never understood why. He was just trying to protect his family and give them a chance at a better life, he was also an absolute softie for her. She could see that he had a lot of love to give, he enjoyed being the leader and defeating other gang leaders, but he must have been craving someone who could take care of him for once, she knew that she wanted to be that person.

When they finished dessert, he pulled her chair closer to his and cradled one of her blushing cheek into his palm.

“Are you aware of my intentions towards you?” He asked in a serious tone, she knew that he wasn’t fooling around. Now or never. She nodded as much as she could with the gentle hold on her face, but he wasn’t having it. “Answer me with words, I want to see if you really want this.” She felt dizzy by hearing his dominating tone.

“Yes, I know your intentions with me.” She replied shyly.

“What are they?” His fingers started to move her hair out of her face, caressing her in the process.

“Y-You want to make me yours.” She spoke lowly, it was hard to speak when he was looking at her as if he was seconds away from ravaging her.

“Yes, and do you want that, (Y/N)? Do you want me to make you mine?” He was even closer now, he whispered seductively in her ear, his full lips were nearly touching the shell of her ear. “Just say the word, sweetheart, and I will give you everything you crave. Please, let me give you the world.” Thomas Shelby barely used the word ‘please’, but he was nearly begging for her. She almost giggled, as if she really needed much convincing.

“I want it, I want it so bad, Tommy…” She was getting impatient, and he saw it on her.

“Shh, sweetheart… Don’t let your pretty head worry, I’m going to take care of you so nicely.” He stood up and stuck his hand out for her to take. “Come.”

He walked with her to his bedroom, she was walking behind him so she couldn’t see the wicked grin on his lips. When they stepped in the door, he just kept on walking, which caused her to walk backwards, until her knees hit the bed and she had fallen down on it.

He didn’t waste a second and crawled on top of her, his lips slowly finding hers. Their kiss started out slow, he guided her lips with his own. After a few minutes, noticing that she was starting to become more and more confident, he slipped his tongue into her open mouth. His hand wandered to her back, where the zipper was, his head pulled away so he could ask for silent permission. Once he got it, he helped her sit up and he removed the dress. Sitting back on his heels, he admired the sight in front of him, her young body was just begging to be ruined. She was wearing the lace, she looked exactly like an angel. His lips glued themselves to her neck and they sucked and bit, her noises were proof that she was enjoying his touch. He made sure to really mark her up, she wasn’t going to leave his mansion for a while, he needed his time with his new prize. She bit down on her lips to hide her moans, something he growled at.

“Don’t you dare. I want to hear you, don’t hold back, sweetheart.”

He went down to her breasts, he also reached under her arched back and unclasped her bra. She tried to cover herself, but he was having none of it. He slowly unpeeled her arms from her chest and kissed all around her breasts. “How beautiful! Such a nice pair of tits you have, the best I’ve seen.” He sucked a nipple into his mouth and she mewled loudly, she didn’t expect to feel so aroused while getting her nipples sucked at. He made sure that he gave both of her tits the same treatment before going lower.

Before he could do more, he stood up to remove his shirt and pants, her presence was making him hotter by the minute. He hooked his fingers into her panties and his cock nearly tore his underwear when he saw how the crotch was stuck to her entrance. She was already so ready for him. He yanked harder and they finally parted, he brought her panties up to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Mhm, so sweet… But, I think I need to feel this from the source.” Tommy dropped to his knees in front of her spread legs, her mind was making her doubt herself. What if she looked ugly down there? What if it smelled or tasted b—

“OH— Tommy!” She moaned loudly when his tongue licked a long stripe up her slit. He just chuckled into her pussy darkly, then he moved on to her pleasure. His mouth was sucking her throbbing clit, his fingers slowly circled her entrance, teasing her.

“Fuck… Your cunt tastes divine, and it’s only for my mouth to taste.” It wasn’t even a question. She was unable to form a coherent sentence, she could only moan and thrash on his tongue. He took one finger and he slowly eased it into her, she was so wet that it slipped right into her, he didn’t hesitate to add another one. “You’re going so good, I cannot wait to feel this tight virgin pussy on my cock.” He curled his fingers and rubbed them right into her spongy spot, her fingers grabbed his hair and tried to push his face more into her heat. He felt her clenching more and more, so he sped up his movements and grinned proudly when she came undone with a whiny moan and a desperate call of his name.

He kissed his way back up to her heaving chest and looked up at her flushed face. He talked her through it, until her breathing evened out again. He slowly slipped his underwear off, his back straightened out for her to see his big cock. It was veiny and thick and it made her nervous. He kept her legs spread, while he kneeled between them, one of his hand smoothing her face and the other one gripped himself at his base. “Want to give a little touch? Don’t be scared, I’m going to make this very pleasurable for you, my sweet girl.” He hissed when her fingertips made contact with his dripping tip, he was so pent up and her soft touch nearly made him blow his load all over her juicy tits, but he had to stay patient. “Are you ready? Ready to become mine?”

“Yes, Tommy, please, I want to feel you. I-I waited for you.” This caused him to grin and give her a deep kiss.

“I know you did, little one.” He positioned himself at her entrance and he slowly began pushing in, he felt a bit of resistance, but with a sharp thrust, he managed to break through it. He wrapped her up in his arms and whispered sweet nothings into her ear soothingly. “I know, I know. It will feel better in a minute, your pussy just has to adjust to my cock. Relax.” It didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would, but it still did, the girls in her class made it sound worse, or maybe their boyfriends didn’t take the time to prep them properly. That made her so proud, her Tommy made sure she was ready. She tried her best to relax her muscles and she felt the pain lessen. She planted a shy kiss on Tommy’s neck at which he chuckled at. “Good girl. You’re mine now, only mine.” He slowly began moving in and out of her.

Her walls gripped on him like a vice, he didn’t need any whores anymore, he had her now. His hands lifted her hips up a bit, so his cock was hitting her spot at every thrust. He went more and more faster, his fingers also began rubbing on her swollen clitoris.

“AH— Tommy, I’m going to—do that thing again.” His innocent little girl, so good for him.

“Good… I can feel you squeeze me, come on, sweet girl, come for me. Come on my cock. Let me fill you up. Let me make you mine.” With a shout of his name and a cry, she came around him. When he felt her walls pulsing around him, he let go too. His warm cum painted her walls, and it was such a delicious sensation. He stayed inside her for a few minutes, both of them trying to catch their breaths.

When he pulled out, he sat back so he could watch his cum leak out of her spent hole. He looked down proudly at his softening cock, which had some of her blood on it. Shit, he really filled her up with his load, there was so much of it. And the whiteness of him and the dark crimson of her virginity made such a lovely contrast together.

He took a rag from his bedside table and cleaned her up, making sure that he was gentle with her, the girl just got fucked and she was sensitive both physically and mentally, he had to be gentle.

After he made sure they were both clean, he once again brought her into his embrace. He smiled at her lovingly, which caused her to do the same. Her hair was all puffy from his touch, but he loved it.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” He cradled her cheek, and caressed her under eye area with his fingertip.

“I’m good, I feel a bit sore, but it’s okay.” She nuzzled into his neck and left little kisses. “I’m so happy to be here with you.”

He smiled in a way he didn’t for a long time, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. He wanted to give the world to the girl in his arms, and he felt the primal urge to protect her and keep her away from all the bad. “Me too. I’m happy to know that you’re finally mine.”

taglist: @your-nanas-house

[dilf-issues]

Vanilla | C.M

Requested by Anon: hey dunno you take requests but since your writing is so hot , I'm willing to ask if you consider writing about roleplaying with Cillian and his wife or gf to break the dull routine they were stuck into , the way he suggested that to her being embarrassed and the sweet moments they ditch the characters in bed. He could bring his characters *cough cough * Tommy shelby. Thank you x

Synopsis: In which your boyfriend, Cillian, finds out you’ve been reading erotic fiction about his character in the Peaky Blinders, Tommy Shelby. Cillian shows you how much of a great actor he is.

Warnings: Age gap, the reader is in her 20s and Cillian is in his 40s. Roleplaying, extremely rough sex, dumbification, degradation, face slapping, spitting, pussy spanking, oral sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, and a little cnc. THIS IS KIND OF DARK SO BE WARNED. Everything is consented it’s just that... Cillian’s gonna be rough, like ROUGH

.

Cillian had been busy. He had an upcoming new season this year and his schedule was packed. You haven’t spent time with him in quite some time now. He constantly apologized for not giving you enough attention and promised to make it up to you.

He decided to fulfill this promise.

Since he was the main character in his series ‘Peaky Blinders’, he did have massive privilege in the production. He had never done it before since he had been such a dedicated person to work with, however, he felt like he should sacrifice his work just for you. He wanted to spend the time with you, maybe have some dinner together at a nice restaurant. Just the usual things the both of you would do. Every time he had some free time he would do some nice things for you, treat you like a princess.

He came home from work that day, he got permission to take the week off and he even got back early from set. He wanted to surprise you, he had a flower in his hands a box of your favorite soft cookies. It was all so perfect.

When he came home, he saw that the first floor was empty and there were no signs of you anywhere. He went upstairs since he reckoned you were in the bedroom, probably taking a nap or reading a book.

Cillian was so happy. He was a man who barely showed any emotions in public but with you, it was different. He had a wide smile on his face, ready to surprise you but when he opened the door, he didn’t see you on the bed.

Instead, he heard the shower running and so he hummed to himself, setting the gifts down as he sat on the bed to wait for you.

As he patiently waited, he noticed your phone was still on. You were the type of person to let the screen go on forever instead of turning it off every 3 minutes like him. He glanced absentmindedly as he saw you were reading some sort of story on your phone. His actions were harmless, he just wanted to see what you were reading.

His eyes skimmed through the words as his blood runs cold.

‘Tommy had me bent over his desk, ass red and swollen from all the beatings. My pussy was leaking down onto the expensive wood, desperate for his cock to ram inside me.

“Please, Mr. Shelby, I need your cock!” I plead like a good whore as he growled.

“You are nothing but a filthy cocksleeve”

Tommy? Shelby? His Tommy Shelby? The character that he played?

It seemed like all of the blood started circulating to his face as he flushed at the filthy thing he had just read. Y/N? His sweet Y/N was reading something like that?

Cillian couldn’t believe it because someone as young and pure as he would never be this dirty. Because of their age gap, he saw her as someone that he needed to protect, shield from the rest of the goddamned world. His fragile little princess that he wouldn’t dare to inflict even a slight force in fear that she might break and shatter into pieces.

The sound of the shower became silent and it interrupted his thoughts, he quickly placed her phone where it belonged as he stood up and smoothened the spot on the bed where he sat to make it seem like he just came in.

When you had walked out, it took you a moment to notice Cillian standing there with your gifts but when you did, you gave him a small scream as you ran towards him, your figure wearing nothing but a small towel.

“Cillian?! You’re back? You brought me gifts!” You exclaimed as her wet body embraced him in a hug. Cillian was somewhat still blank from what he was reading earlier.

‘If she had liked that kinda stuff so much he could push her on the bed and beat her ass right now’

His eyes widened at his own thoughts as he tried to push them away, “Yes princess, I thought maybe I haven’t been paying attention to you now have I? I’m all yours for the week, baby”

You pouted as you nodded at him, and then he realized how submissive-looking you were. You had always had a demeanor of what he would expect someone much younger than him to have, however, Cillian was starting to look at it in a new light.

It doesn't help the fact that he still has his Thomas Shelby haircut for the filming.

It also doesn’t help she was almost naked in front of him, he hadn’t fucked her in weeks. It’s almost fitting.

Maybe doing something about it wouldn’t hurt now would it?

Oh... But it’s definitely gonna hurt you...

Cillian watched closely as the girl before him admired his gifts for her in awe. His eyes became more and more lusted as he figured out a way to approach you.

“Love, can I ask you a question?”

You hummed at him innocently as she raised her brows at him, “Anything, Cill...”

“What have you been reading on your phone, hmm?” Her eyes widened slightly as her heart started to pound in her chest. Cillian was looking at her so intensely that it was slightly scary. She didn’t know if she should lie, or if she should tell him the truth. However, since he had asked... It was obvious he knew the truth.

“Cillian I can explain” You sputtered, panicking on the inside as Cillian started closing whatever gap that both of you had, he was looking down on you in a way he had never done before. You felt the chill run down your spine as you felt the back of your knees hitting the bed.

“Explain” He commanded.

“It’s just... You know I love you and you know I should be honest to you no matter what. But... I just... We haven’t been together in a long time lately and even when we do... It’s always the same...” You felt guilty saying this to him, it’s not like he was bad at sex. He was great. However, you were getting bored with the same soft and loving sex you two always had. “I just... I hope you can be a little rougher, that’s all. You’ve always been... So soft”

“Soft... Hm?” He tilted his head to the side as he stared at you almost mockingly, “Be careful of what you wish for, love”

You had felt your heart stop when Cillian’s smooth Irish accent suddenly turned into the dark Brummie accent you had always heard about on the TV. The one you had always touched yourself to when he wasn’t around.

Then out of nowhere, Cillian had roughly pushed you on the bed as you fell down and whimpered softly. He pulled off the towel on your body as you were left naked, “C-Cillian!”

“Who the fuck is Cillian, eh? Have you been fucking whoring yourself out to another man?” Cillian cursed at you as he quickly took his clothes off, “You’re my whore. You’re mine to fuck, you got it?”

Then you can physically feel your gears shifting in your brain, “T-Tommy?”

Your body shivered as you felt yourself getting wet, you were all naked and you were ready for him. You felt your legs spread instinctively as you heard him laugh, “You really are such a desperate fucking cunt, eh?”

‘Tommy’ had bent down as he gripped your face by the cheeks and roughly shook your head, “Who do you belong to? Who do you fucking belong to?”

“Y-You Cill-Tommy! I belong to you!” Tommy smirked, as his hands traveled down to your navel, teasing you as he drew figures on the skin, making you whine, “Open your fucking mouth you dirty whore”

You wasted no time opening your mouth for him, wide with your tongue out. Suddenly, he did the unexpected when he spat in your mouth, “Fucking swallow it, princess”

You swallowed his spit like a good girl as you held out your tongue to show to him, suddenly seeking his praise and validation however it never came. Tommy just hummed as he let go of your face harshly, almost slamming your head onto the plush bedding.

Characters aside, Cillian was never like this. Throughout the year of your relationship, he had always been gentle and kind, treating you like a soft feather and taking care of you. Maybe because it was because he was much older he had felt like he needed to treat you gently. You never realized Cillian had this side to him. He had always had this side, you just never awaken it.

“Spread your legs wider” He commanded, his voice dark as his character, you listened to him, eager to show him you were his good girl as he hummed looking down at the glistening flesh in between your legs. You were so wet it had dripped down and leaked onto the bedsheet. Without a warning, Tommy gives a hard slap to your cunt and you screamed out. You thought he was doing it once but it seems like it came over and over again, beating your swollen pussy and clit until it was throbbing and red. You cried out of pleasure and pain, as you begged him. You didn’t know what you were begging for but it was sure not for him to stop.

“You fucking like this don’t you? Fucking hell, look at you. You’re fucking wet, you like getting fucking beaten and bruised huh? What a fucking whore. You are nothing. You are only good for fucking, you are only here to fuck. Remember that, you fucking cunt”

Tears were flowing down and you were desperate you were so desperate for his cock. After each word, Tommy spat on your body, leaving you all wet and filthy combined with your own sweat and arousal.

“P-Please! P-Please, fuck me, Tommy! Please I need your cock. Please I want your cum. I need it inside me!” You pleaded like a whore as he slapped your face. You moaned out as his hand traveled down your neck and choked it just enough to make you feel the air around you restricting. “Tommy, I can’t, I need your cock”

He scoffed, pulling down his pants as whipped out his cock. It was so hard to the point where it became purplish-red, the veins covering the base as the head leaked with pre-cum.

“You want my cock?” He lined up his tip on your vagina, “You fucking get it you cocksleeve”

Without giving you a warning and time to adjust, Tommy slammed his cock inside your cunt and he wasted no time ramming into you roughly. Not like you needed time to adjust since you were sopping wet. All you can do is choke out his name and moans as he grunts with each slam.

His pace was rough and deep and for someone like hin with his age, he had the stamina to go on and on fucking you so rough till you can feel him ramming in your stomach.

No words could even cum out of your mouth as your eyes rolled back as he fucks you braindead.

Spit drooling at the side of your mouth as you babble like a cock hungry whore underneath him.

“I’m gonna fucking cum and you’re gonna take it. You’re gonna fucking carry my babies, and even then it is not gonna stop me from fucking you stupid”

You could feel him twitching as his thrusts were getting sloppier and sloppier, you could also feel your orgasm coiling in your tummy as you cried out once you let it all go, the liquid splashing all over the both of you as you squirt on his dick.

You were heavily overstimulated and you screamed as Tommy fucked the cum out of him.

The warm seed spilled inside your walls as he grunted in pleasure, leaning down as he bit your neck and drew blood to the surface.

Tommy looked at you all fucked out, eyes still rolling at the back of your head as you continue to babble nonsense to nothing.

He breathes heavily as he lays down beside you, carefully moving your body to cuddle up to him.

“Like I said, my love... Be careful of what you wished for”

[hozierbabymomma]

That feeling when your favorite writter still aint post the next chapter...

Im jp yall, i just be talking shit lol

[awritesthings1]

Gone with the Leaves

Pairing: Tommy Shelby / Wife Reader

Summary: Despite your happy marriage to Tommy, you feel an undeniable jealousy towards Lizzie. Perhaps a day in the forest will do you some good.

ao3 link

A/N: I'm starting a tag list, comment if you want to be added :)

-

“You write like you’re running out of time,” mused Lizzie Stark, former prostitute, now Tommy’s secretary. “They have typewriters for those types of things, y’know?”

You saw the volley of cannonballs that launched and subsequently landed on Tommy’s desk as the words left her mouth. It wasn’t that you expected more of poor old plain Lizzie, but you thought that the time she had spent lying on her back staring past the shoulder of a customer at the ceiling would have taught her to read a room. Nevertheless, she stood there, quite amused with herself, smiling stupidly at your husband.

Tommy, who had been sitting at his desk all afternoon attending to letters, the ledger, and god knows what else, peered up from the paper. “What did you say?”

This time, it was your turn to be amused. He pointed accusingly at Lizzie, who by then had realised her impetuous mistake. Her wide eyes fluttered to you desperately, like a bee that had indulged itself in so much pollen that it became stuck in its own honey. No, that was putting it lightly. She looked to you like a frightened child who knew exactly what kind of trouble they were in.

You made sure you looked the other way.

“It was only a silly joke,” came her spluttering apology.

Tommy squinted, and his mouth curled into a frown. Smoke chased the deep exhale from the cigarette hanging between his lips. Your husband carried this terrifying look to him that many feared. Without the peaky cap to cover his striking blue eyes, you saw his glare cut away the cords in Lizzie’s throat with just one look. How could poor Lizzie defend herself from eyes that had witnessed nightmarish things?

“I’m not clear. Is it funny that I sign my letters by hand, or are you above using ink now that you have graduated from the bed to the desk?”

Lizzie’s mouth wormed into a thin line, yet she still looked to you for help. Of what help she thought you would possibly spare, you weren’t sure. For once, Lizzie used initiative and showed herself out.

Your heels clacked across the wooden threshold of your husband’s office. Now that no one was there to disturb you both, you sat down on Tommy’s lap. By then, he was leaning back on his chair, work abandoned for the time being until he could wash the sour sight of Lizzie Stark from his eyes.

“You know I don’t like her,” you said plainly.

There was no need for fake smiles or lies with Tommy. You knew him, and he knew you.

Tommy exhaled loudly, stubbing out the last of his cigarette on his ashtray and taking a swig of whiskey before his calloused hand found your waist.

He clears his throat. “It’s only business with her.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I like her any less.”

Tommy loved you, not Lizzie Stark, yet you couldn’t stomach the undeniable jealousy that arose with her presence. Perhaps it was a natural inclination women had toward their lovers. Lizzie had never done anything outwardly wrong to you. So, what was it then that turned your plain teeth into hissing fangs?

Everyone knew that Tommy was one of her paying customers before you met him, but so were all of Small Heath. You never felt insecure in your relationship with Tommy; there was no need to feel threatened by a prostitute. Yet that wouldn’t stop the catty feline that emerged from its slumber when Lizzie’s wandering eyes battered at your husband.

No. Lizzie Stark would never know what it felt like to be loved by a man like Tommy. What you held in your hands each night was a transcendental, unconditional type of love—one that surpassed the heart and soul, which drew two beings together in the most unconventional yet fitting way. The way that covers kept you warm at night, Tommy watched over your hearth and kept the fire burning, even if he were on the other side of the country.

You closed your eyes, leaning into the valley between Tommy’s neck and shoulder as you listened for the bah-dum-bah-dum of his heart. They sat together in silence, cherishing each other’s presence, while Tommy rested his cheek on your head. Outside, the world waited, barking at their front door and scratching at the delicately carved wood. Even the rain lashed at the windowpanes, playing together like one elemental orchestra.

The hand not resting on your waist rose to gently stroke up and down your arm. You shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold.

“I think you have some work to attend to in the bedroom,” you mumbled into his neck.

Your nose searched for the spot where he applied his aftershave.

“Eh?” Came his gruff response.

Your hand wandered down his suit in answer.

-

The sheets were bundled around Tommy’s naked waist when you sauntered back over to the bed with his case of cigarettes in hand. Gratefully, he took the case from your hand, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into the warmth of his chest. Then he began the usual routine. He fished out a cigarette to offer, but you shook your head no, so he slid it once, then twice, across his bottom lip. On the bedside table, he grabbed the half-empty matchbox to light the cigarette.

Tommy was the resident chain smoker in your house. With an appetite for tobacco and whiskey, you often wondered just how he sustained himself throughout the day. Of course, there were the home-cooked meals at Arrow House waiting for his return, although that didn’t stop you from worrying any less. It was pathetic, really, sitting all alone in his study, twiddling your fingers, and sitting beneath his portrait like you were praying to him. Tommy was no god, no matter how much he tried to convince everyone else. Yet whenever headlights passed the window and lit up the office momentarily, you would stand up and peer out, hoping to spot your husband exiting the car.

He cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to the present. You loved watching the way the cigarette shifted between his lips when he spoke, even more when his hooded eyes looked over at you. Tommy was a man of few words, simply because he didn’t need language to communicate. His body spoke for him in tongues for all his enemies to understand. And more importantly, in a way your body understood.

Your hand abandoned his tattoo to stroke a thumb across his full bottom lip. Lust swelled there, eager to chase the rest of the night away into a haze of pleasure until the sun rose. As tempting as it was, you sighed at the thought. You would rather spend this time taking in your husband, remembering the fine details across his face and body, from the scar in the hollow of his cheek to the rough texture beneath his shoulder blade where a bullet was once lodged. You wanted to trace the sockets of his eyes the way a blind person would, treasuring each valley, mountain, and cut of skin as if it were to disappear the second you stopped touching him.

“You’re beautiful,” you decided, bathed in candlelight, tangled up between the sheets and Tommy’s arms.

Tommy’s brows furrowed, and the cigarette hung dangerously loose from where his lips curled into a frown. He grunted, clearly dissatisfied with your words. Tommy wasn’t beautiful. He was hard, ambitious, and unmovable force.

Beautiful was a conventional word savored for the finest women. To you? It meant so much more. Crafted in a way that would cause people to stare, sure, but there was also a poetic sense to the word. The type of beauty you would use to describe a well-written novel or heart-wrenching poem. Thomas Shelby stood for something, and that was beautiful.

“Then what are you, eh?”

A lazy smile floated onto your face, so much so that you had to bite your lip to refrain from looking devastatingly pleased at his answer.

A woman, a dreamer, a friend, a reader, an achiever. “A wife.”

He huffed, raising his eyebrows playfully.

Why was it that most women felt like they could only fit the frame of one? With Tommy, you were never limited to the endless possibilities. You treasured being a wife the same way you treasured your other roles. Marriage wasn’t the end all be all. Perhaps that’s another lie men spun—that perfectly capable women stopped existing as soon as a diamond ring slid onto their finger. How sad, you thought, to waste away all that potential when men were still free to pursue stupid ideas like war and dog fights.

Tommy was unbothered by traditional ideas like that. Change powered his ambition; he had no time for parallel lines. You could be his wife, a writer, a singer, or a mother—whatever you wanted—and he wouldn’t think of you any less.

You hummed, chasing that cigarette from his lips and stubbing it out in the ash tray by his bedside table. Tommy didn’t seem too heartbroken about it. In fact, there was some mirth in his gaze. His hands traced up your naked spine, pulling your body further into his until you could smell the smoke in his breath.

“Yes,” he breathed in loudly through his nose, “my wife.”

-

The following day, you were invited to the Basnett's hunting party. You would’ve been more enthusiastic to write about your excitement to attend if the whole ordeal hadn’t been so troublesome. Because a few days prior, when you were visiting your husband’s office, you had caught sight of the letter on Lizzie’s desk, a letter that was supposed to reach you days earlier.

“What’s this?” You asked.

“Oh, nothing interesting,” Lizzie had said, too occupied with filing her nails while on the clock.

You kept your composure for the sake of keeping the peace. You didn’t wish to disturb Tommy if he were to walk by.

“This is a letter addressed to me,” you pressed.

“Oh.” She stopped for a moment, then leaned over to read the letter you had pulled from the messy pile. “No, it’s addressed to Tommy.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Shelby,” you hissed quietly, with emphasis on the missus.

“Hm, I didn’t notice.”

“You are paid to notice.” You fought the urge to comment that she was paid for other things not long ago. “How long has this been sitting here?”

Lizzie tapped her cigarette ash into the tray. “The post boy dropped that lot off yesterday.”

Even if it was only two days late to reach your hand, by society’s standards, that may have well been taken as you snubbing the invitation. Frustratingly, you had to cancel your plans that day and personally deliver your letter to the Basnett’s door, citing some excuse of it having been lost in the post.

“That woman is up to no good.” You said glumly that night into Tommy’s chest.

“I’ll speak to her,” he promised in that stoic tone of his.

Whether he had been true to his words, you weren’t sure because Lizzie made an effort to avoid you when possible.

“Oh! Mrs. Shelby! How wonderful for you to join us! Come in, come in. The men are readying their rifles for the hunt outside. How exciting!” Gushed Lady Basnett, shooing you into the atrium of her lavish mansion.

Your riding boots clacked across the floor before being muffled by an intricately woven rug. You stared up at the chandelier, childishly wondering if it would hit you if it were to fall at that moment.

“Right this way, Mrs. Shelby!” Lady Basnett ushered excitably.

You debated if all her energy was for show—to please her husband and be the good wife he expected of her. After she showed you through to the veranda and down to the circle of wives who had gathered under the trees while their husbands readied for the hunt, you decided that no, she must truly enjoy planning social occasions like this, as evidenced by the way she kissed Sarah’s cheek in greeting with a wide grin.

It pleased you to know that Lady Basnett found joy in something. Ever since her eldest died in the war, she has been known to be a bit of a recluse.

“Oh, what a beautiful ring! May we see it?” Doe-eyed Catherine asked.

She was one of the younger wives, like yourself. Catherine married an older man, twice her senior. Many of the wives here faulted her for it behind her back, but not you. You saw more of yourself in her than you did in any of the other women. Because, despite the age gap, the girl seemed to be utterly head-over-heels in love with a man society deemed old-fashioned for her. And how could you blame her when you swore an oath to a gangster of all people?

You obliged and let the wives twist and turn your hand to better inspect the diamonds on your ring finger.

“It’s perfect!”

“How many carats?”

“My Mary would be so jealous!”

After dutifully showing your wedding ring, you noticed the men beginning to mount their horses.

Catherine hooked her arm around yours. “Come on, we are going to be left behind!”

She jovially pulled you along the stone tiles at a speed that made you grateful for wearing riding boots. The backyard was grand in the sense that the acres they owned stretched vastly into the nearby forest. Although there were impressive features, like the hedge they had grown into a maze and the trees that were shaped into birds.

“Lady Basnett owned an aviary of budgies. Dear little things they were, she was devastated when they all escaped one night after the groundskeeper forgot to close the door,” Catherine commented, having noticed the way your head was turned.

You laughed, because you could precisely picture Lady Basnett as the type to fawn over little budgies.

Catherine led you to the horses, where some of the wives were already perched, waiting for the party to leave. None of them carried rifles, but rather wicker baskets strapped to the saddle for the picnic they planned to have at the top of the hill while they waited for their husbands to finish hunting.

Together, you set off, having mounted the back of Catherine’s mare. Deeper into the forest you went, the black mare trotting over loose dirt and rocks. Both of you remained at the end of the pack, preferring to keep to yourselves in light conversation.

Then it all happened so suddenly. One of the rifles went off up ahead, and a flock of birds rushed at you from the break in the foliage, startling your mare. You gasped in shock and reached for Catherine’s jacket to hold on, but only skimmed her. She went face first into the dirt while you were swept into the air like a leaf and fell with the grace of a rock. The ground thundered as the mare galloped into the distance.

“Fuck!” Catherine spat.

(On her fall she had taken a mouthful of soil and leaves.)

“They’ll come back,” you tried to reassure her.

-

Hours later, the two of you still had not been found.

“I was a prostitute before George found me, y’know.”

No, you didn’t know.

“That’s why I’m so young and he so old,” she smiled fondly, laughing as if it were the most normal thing.

You couldn’t find it in your heart to dislike her because of her circumstances. She was your friend, and a true one at that.

What was it that Tommy said? The past is the past.

-

The sun began to set when one of the men from the hunting party found you both huddled together under a tree. Kindly, he let the two of you ride the rest of the way back despite your hesitance to mount another horse.

When you returned to Lady Basnett’s, with Catherine in arm, the sun had been set for at least two hours. You hadn’t realized what trouble you had gotten yourself into until you noticed Tommy’s Bentley parked in the crowded driveway of the mansion. Men stood at the gate, armed and waiting. Catherine opened her mouth to remark how ridiculous it was, but you kept your lips sealed after recognizing the guards to be Peaky Blinders.

Tommy had to be beside himself.

A young boy who was playing between the cars popped his head out when the gates squealed open. His ears perked up, and he ran inside, clutching his peaky cap, to probably inform the adults inside of your arrival. People pooled out onto the front steps, the women covering their hearts and sighing with relief, and the men holding their hats to their chests. But when your husband, Tommy, came storming out, they parted like the red sea.

He stalked across the gravel like a predator, his eyes trained on you with an unblinking stare.

“Are you hurt?” He ignored Catherine, cupping your face and frantically looking between both your eyes as if you would disappear.

Upon further inspection, his eyes were bloodshot, and the white sleeves of his blouse were bundled into the golden garters. Your hands itched to muse his disheveled hair into place, but with all the curious onlookers, you thought better of it.

“No.”

George, Catherine’s husband, was quick to whisk her away inside. You heard Lady Basnett’s voice trailing after them: “Oh my, what a terrible thing. Come now, let me pour you some tea.”

Unfortunately, tea wouldn’t make up for any lost ground with Tommy.

“We’re going.”

You knew better to open your mouth to disagree. This was Tommy being afraid and carrying on. He retreated into himself. It didn’t look pretty or like he cared, but he cared; you knew he cared. It was only that no one else was allowed to know that the great Thomas Shelby felt any emotion.

At Arrow House, he swallowed two glasses of whiskey before saying a word. You were pulling at the hem of the overcoat that Tommy had shook off his shoulders to give you for the ride home. Your fingers just couldn’t stand the anxious silence that rang throughout the room.

“What the fuck happened?”

He stood in front of you, stoic as a soldier but cracking around the exterior thanks to his hand, which itched for the cigarette case inside his pocket. (A nervous tick of his.) You grab his hand between your own before he can fish out the case.

“The horse got spooked. It bucked Catherine and me off, but we’re fine.”

His thumb rubs across your knuckles as he looks past your shoulder out the window.

“Do you know where I was when I got the call? Eh? I was handling some business when Lizzie came in and told me some posh old woman was on the line, saying you were missing.”

He exhaled sharply, dropping his gaze to you, where you noticed his eyes soften.

“I thought…” He broke off.

His chin dropped, and he went to itch his nose with his other hand.

“What did you think happened? Is there something I should know about?” Concern leaked into your voice.

“No,” he huffed, clearing his throat. “It doesn’t matter. You’re home, and you’re safe.”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from saying anything that might push him over the edge. He was fragile in a state like this in the sense that he pushed the stronger, more vivid feelings to the side because you were his wife, not a Peaky Blinder. No, you would never be, even though you married one.

Often, you would wish you could turn into the leaves that swept off the pavement and into the air. Imagine then how much easier life would be for you both—to forget the animosity of life and rise above it all, breathe in that crystal air, and then finally exclaim the truth because up there no one could hear them or cared enough to try anyway.

Cautiously, you let go of his hand and traced your fingertips up to knead away the tension in his jaw.

“Thomas… Do you remember what you asked of me? To help you with the whole fucking thing—”

“From now on—”

“Thomas—”

“From now on, let me know where you are going. I will organize a guard to watch over you.”

‘You write like you’re running out of time,’ Lizzie’s poorly placed joke from the start of the week reverberated in your skull.

Was he?

“I need you,” he breathed, the smell of whiskey fanning over your senses.

You nodded, pressing up on your toes to kiss him. A soft breath escaped him when you pulled away.

“You have me.”

[look-at-the-soul]

That’s the way it is

Cillian Murphy x reader

Word count: 2,615

A/N’s: ah this has been in my drafts for a while so I thought of finishing it to post it and clear my WIPS 🥰✨ I hope you like it!

And last but not least, I want to share a quote I came across the other day, in the middle of rush hour, in the middle of a hurry… and it made me stop on my tracks and stare at those words for what seemed like an eternity. “If it makes you happy, it doesn’t have to make sense to other people.”

You sighed as the document showed you the saved message.

“Y/N! Are you available?” Your boss texted you just as you had finished your work.

“Yes, everything alright Kian?” You asked right away. But before you had the chance to lock your phone, she called you.

“I know you asked to take the day off tomorrow, just wanted to check if you’d be able to save us for an interview?”

“Well I took the day off to arrange everything for my moving.”

“Let’s do this, you get the day off any other day you want and you don’t even have to register it in the system, if you say yes, you’ll keep your full holiday.”

You bit your lower lip debating how to organize everything.

“I had Craig for this interview but he had something personal coming up and isn’t available.”

“Alright, I’ll do it.” You agreed

“I know you’ll do a fabulous work darling, just like you always do.”

“Stop the flattering.” You joked. “So, what time should I see you at the office?”

“Oh no, you’re going to Dun Laoghaire.”

*****

Your heart had been beating so fast since last night when you heard you’d be interviewing Cillian Murphy, an Irish native, the man of the moment as some media called him. If anyone asked in Ireland, he was considered as a national treasure.

And he was for so many reasons.

Googling his recent work last night, you realized some of the comments of how he didn’t do photos, or how a lot of people mispronounced his name, he wasn’t a follower of trends either and answering the same questions over and over again made him uncomfortable.

You thought you had prepared enough material for this project. That’s why you arrived at the place your boss instructed you earlier to set up everything. But nothing prepared you for that ocean stare when he arrived holding his dog’s leash.

“Hello I’m Cillian.” He introduced himself and greeted you with a kiss. As an assistant informed him he’d attach a microphone to his jacket, he couldn’t help but joke. “You look a bit different, Craig.”

“Y/N, nice to meet you.” Y/N smiled and then bent down. “And who’s this.”

He nodded and whistled at his dog. “This is Scout.”

Greeting his dog with your hand you chuckled and explained Craig had some personal matters to attend. “Heard you couldn’t reschedule.”

“Yeah, there’s loads of events coming up.”

“You don’t sound excited.” The wind blew his hair.

You were surprised how he didn’t ask for an stylist or someone to assist him.

He looked down. “Don’t get me wrong, I am… but I’m not at the same time, it probably doesn’t makes sense.”

“I’ve never attended any, so…”

His hands were suddenly hiding in the pockets of his jacket. “You aren’t missing a big deal.” Then he laughed nervously. “What you must be thinking, what’s he complaining about? It’s just it’s a lot to take in, someone is always telling you where to stand, where to look, what to do…”

“We’re ready.” The camera guy approached you.

“Give me a minute.” You asked, looking at him, then you turned to Cillian. “Don’t worry, it’s not my job to judge anyone. I’m just here to have a chat.” You smiled at him.

That seemed to make him feel at ease with you as he started talking about the multi awarded film. He was sharing lots of personal insights of his preparation for this role in a way that made you feel as if you were having a conversation with a friend you haven’t seen in a while. He made you forget about all the questions you had prepared.

“Would you say there’s a Cillian before and after this movie?” You asked stopping to pet his dog.

“I’d be a liar if I tell you no. Because in a way, there’s a before and after.” He paused for a second to stare at the ocean, it was a beautiful and breathtaking sunset. “But then, I feel like I’m the same you know?”

You contemplated the way the golden hour highlighted his features, his voice made you feel like you were floating.

“I don’t want this to change me, to get it in my head.”

“I don’t think this will, but you definitely are getting more attention lately. Has it been hard to deal with that part of the fame?”

He smiled and pointed towards some rocks and you followed him. “For a moment it was, I mean I had a very publicly divorce in the middle of filming.” He chuckled and you gasped, the only rule your boss requested was no personal questions.

Cillian must’ve sensed your nervousness because he touched your arm. “It’s alright, everybody knows about that.”

“We can edit and cut it from the final version.”

But he shook his head. “It’s all part of what you saw on the big screen, Oppenheimer wasn’t a saint, he had struggles, his own battles. Just like myself.” He added showing you a side that he had never shared before.

“How do you keep this out of your characters? How do you draw a line between set and real life.”

Cillian raised his eyebrows. “That’s a good question… I don’t know to be honest.” He looked down at your parted lips and lost track of his thoughts for a second. “When I hear the word action, something deep inside me steps back and the character emerges. But then when I go back home Mum just sends me over to take the trash can.” He chuckled and a few lines appeared around the corner of his eyes. “It’s hard to explain, you must think this is crazy.”

Crunching down to pick up a rock, you shook your head. “It makes more sense than you can imagine.” He gave you a surprised look. “To me, I feel that way when I’m writing an article.”

Apart from this, you had a weekly column in a well known newspaper both, printed and online that was quite popular. Lots of people reached out assuring you the column described perfectly how they felt.

“I read your article about finding different kinds of soulmates. It was so interesting.”

You blushed at the thought of him reading your article. “It sparkled a debate. I got a bunch of replies and letters with opinions divided, some people agreed and the rest accused me of confusing them.”

Your phone ringing interrupted the conversation, but taking a look at the screen, you knew you had to take it. “I’m really sorry, it’s my grandma.”

As you moved a few steps away to answer the call, Cillian stared at you in silence. For the past hour you hadn’t been bombarding him with hundreds of questions, you had been making him talk freely about what he loved the most, about something much more than just his job.

“Oh no don’t worry granny.” He heard you say softly. “Yes, it’s the interview I told you about.”

There was a huge smile on your lips and the sudden wind blew the scarf you were wearing.

“Absolutely, I’m sure the weather fairies listened to your prayers that’s why isn’t raining.” You threw a subtle glance in his direction, he was staring at you. “Oh, Cillian says hi.”

He winked, pleased with the positive answer you gave him on your grandma’s behalf.

“I gotta go soon, but I’ll see you on Sunday. Love you.”

“Weather fairies? That’s new.” He pointed out before whistling at his dog.

“She swears there’s a fairy in her house hiding her something, so she might put her to good use asking for a good weather today.”

“Which seems to be working so far.” Cillian stared at the clear sky, it was a surprise there hasn’t been any raining.

“I guess she’s right, I wouldn’t want to piss off a fairy tho.” You stated jokingly resuming the walk. “What are you looking forward now?”

“Some time off.” Cillian answered right away. “All of this attention is mortifying.” He laughed out loud, feeling at ease with you.

“Completely away?”

“Loads of reading, cooking, some walks here and there. Ya know?”

You opened your mouth, but decided to not say anything.

“What?” He asked fixing his eyes on you. “Boring right?”

“No, I was going to say it’s a bit shocking… you’re the total opposite of a big movie star mold.”

“In other words… boring, I know.” He repeated.

And now you felt mortified by insulting him. “No, no I mean…”

“Hey I’m just messing with ya.” His palm came to rest on your shoulder. “To be honest I’m also looking forward to spend some time with my people, being away during filming it’s a bit hard sometimes, I’m not always around for birthdays or important moments.”

“What is it a couple of things that can’t miss during your breaks?”

“Music and food. I love having people over all the time… I’m not the introvert everyone thinks.”

“You’re an extrovert with the right people.” You stated lifting your face towards the sun. Take it in.

Cillian’s eyes followed you. There was something magical on your face.

“Exactly.” He let out in a whisper.

“How is it to work with Christopher Nolan? Everyone says he’s hard to please.”

Cillian frowned. “He always has a very clear idea of what he wants, he’s brilliant.” He’d work with Chris every time if he could. “He just expects the same high level and commitment he provides in return.”

That made you think how unfair people made him look, it’s easier to say he’s very picky when in reality he’s just steps ahead of everyone and lazy people prefer to say he’s difficult. Your understanding seemed to calm Cillian.

“He’s just like his mind is always ten steps ahead,” he explained with a smile. “Would you like to see something unique?”

“What, are you going to FaceTime him?” Your eyes opened wide at the thought.

“No, he doesn’t have a phone.” Cillian admitted. “Come on, I want to show yo something.” He motioned the crew and you to follow him.

As you were walking, he explained why he chose that place, he wanted to settle down by the beach, it reminded him of the holiday home he used to visit as a child and not only that, he shared a lot of his personal favorites of the neighborhood, it was as if he took over the tour guide role, sharing the best places to grab some food and the local antiques store after learning it was one of favorites things to do.

“So… what are you doing for the holidays?” Cillian asked hooking the lash on Scout’s collar.

“Driving to Enniskerry to be with my family. What about you?”

“Ah that’s beautiful.” He would be almost three hours away from there. “I’ll be down to Cork. Also for the family gathering.”

“That’s amazing, I hope you get to have some good time.”

“After you.” He held the door open and gave you a welcoming smile.

This wasn’t scripted, never in your wildest dreams you’d have imagined Cillian would invite you over to his house. This was his safe place, so intimate, and being honest with yourself you don’t just invite someone you just met.

He was incredibly kind and offered everyone something to drink, he was constantly moving his hands and explaining how he got that painting or the vintage piano sitting in a corner… he seemed so down to earth, your mind was just so full of everything that was happening, trying to register every little thing.

“Here it is.” Cillian announced after excusing himself for a couple of minutes downstairs. In his hands he was carrying the Oppenheimer script. “Go ahead, you can hold it.”

Your fingers trembled at the contact.

Time froze for an instant as you took in the handwritten note from Chris to Cillian.

“You left her speechless.” The camera man pointed out with a chuckle.

And you were definitely out of words as you went through the pages.

“Wow.”

“He printed it on red paper because if someone tries to copy it won’t be clear. It’s even hard to read as it is.” Cillian explained with excitement in his voice.

“I hope you get this framed.” You stated still in shock to be able to see something like that with your own eyes.

There were plenty of notes made by Cillian in literally every empty space.

“Oh that is actually a great idea.” He leaned back on the sofa staring at you for a little longer. “I’m glad you appreciate it as much as I do.”

“Are you kidding me? I mean… is there anything better than this?” You held the script on your lap as if it was some holy grail.

“Can we get a close up?” The camera man walked around the reading room but you gave Cillian a glance, to make sure he agreed.

He nodded, showing you some of the words he added, little notes like open eyes, walk slowly.

“How do you get over this? Seriously, you deserve every single award.”

Cillian seemed to blush after your statement. He really didn’t know how to get a compliment.

“Well…”

“No,” you quickly interrupted him, “that’s the way it is.”

“Thank you, I’m still not used to the attention.” He let out a nervous laugh, processing your words, letting the compliment linger in his mind.

“Would you change something?” Y/N asked taking Cillian by surprise.

“No,” he answered right away. “I’d do it all over again.”

Y/N nodded pleased with his answer. “That’s good, because if you did something differently, you’d get a different result. And everything happened just the way it should have.”

“Y/N.” The camera man tried to get your attention, pointing at his clock.

“Oh my! This got way longer than we expected.” You remembered he had a family affair to attend. “Thank you so much for having us, and for sharing this unique moment Cillian.”

Cillian studied the crew members, trying to buy himself some time. “Thanks y’all for the incredible work you did.” The camera man was gone and now only the microphone guy was around. “So how does it work now, do you’ve everything you needed?”

“We’ll send it to the editor and wait for a proposal, I usually change a few frames after they do the edition and I’ll send my final version to Kian and I’m sure Craig will want to take a look first.”

“Grand.”

You wrapped your scarf around your neck and bit the inside of your cheek. “I can send you the preview if you want.”

“Urm guys I need to catch the bus, see ya.” Paul the one in charge of the microphones waved goodbye.

“How about a pre-preview?” Cillian asked rubbing his arm. “Would you like to go for a drink?”

He saw a chance and decided to take the risk.

“Is this still part of the interview?” You had to ask, to see where you’d stand.

“No, it definitely has another intention on my part.” He flirted openly. “And maybe we could meet sometime between Christmas and New Year’s let’s say in… Kilkenny? Right in the middle.”

“Uh direct aren’t you?”

“That’s the way it is.” Cillian admitted.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you got to enjoy this little silly idea ✨ please remember your feedback is the best gift you could leave, it keeps the inspiration rolling 🥰♥️

Master list

Inspired by these photos from the 60 minutes interview:

Tag list: (if you want to be added/removed please let me know)

@lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @cillmequick

@datewithgianni @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells

@fastfan @stevie75 @elk96 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd

@forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @winchestergirl22 @blondie-22 @allie131313

@elenavampire21 @already-broken144 @moral-terpitude @rangerelik @imichelle-l-rigby

@peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel

@adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @kmc1989

[i-try-to-write-stuff]

Hiya mate again, this is the other user the requested for Tony, Stephen and Loki's fics. Well I do have other requests but let me ask this since I know you make Shelby fics you might make this aswell.

1# Dark!Cillian Murphy x Reader

Let me just say how it should start. Let's say that the Reader is an Actress that was casted for Oppenheimer (Or you can choose the movie/film). Cillian showed signs that he hates the reader but secretly loves her and because of the hate signs, the reader thinks he actually hates her and uhh just continues this fake rivarly then one day Cillian just asks the reader to come to the backstage in after hours (after work) and then maybe confront her about how much he loves her and after the reader refuses and declines his offer multiple times he ends up drugging and kidnapping the reader.

Sorry I explained the plot too much.

Thanks mate.

Okay...I may have gotten carried away and wrote a small blurb. Let me know if you guys want to see more of this.

There were no warning signs, nothing that could show your co-star’s obsessive feelings. His aloofness and borderline rudeness should have bothered you, and it did for a while, but you eventually got over it. You were a total boss, keeping your cool and staying polite with your head held high, knowing there wasn't any other way to handle it. We all know that Hollywood unfairly favors men. They can act badly with no repercussions, while women get scrutinized for the tiniest slip-ups. You did not let your negative feelings show and stay friendly with your co-stars and crew, even when they left you out of things. You knew that any drama could mess up your career at the peak of your fame. Luckily, your cast-mates made an effort to include you without upsetting Cillian. You actively avoided Cillian in get-togethers and parties because you didn't want to worsen your strained professional relationship. Since he was the lead actor and Nolan's top pick, and you were playing a supporting role, you could be easily replaced. Even though you didn't care, getting fired from a movie isn't a good look for any actor, let alone you…

Finally, after months of rehearsals, shooting, and re-shooting, the movie was done. The heavy weight on your chest lifted as you realized you were finally going home after what felt like an eternity. Nolan threw a party to thank everyone for their hard work, but let's just say you were eager to leave without being rude.

You were chatting with John David Washington and D’Arcy Carden about future projects.

Any plans now that the movie's wrapped up?”, John asked you as he took a sip of whiskey.

“I get to go home for a bit and then it's press tour time for MI,” you said excitedly.

“Oh God, press tours can be so monotonous, day in and day out, answering the same questions just in different ways.” D’Arcy sympathised.

“What could be so draining D’Arcy?” Nolan asked as he joined you along with a few other of your cast mates, including the one and only diva Cillian. You stiffened but were relieved by the buffer of people around you.

“We were just discussing what’s next for Y/N, she has a press tour coming up in a few weeks,” D’Arcy explained to the newcomers. Nolan chuckled.

“Yeah, press tours can be exhausting, but I'm still excited. I'm pumped to see Tarzan, Noah, and Zendaya! We've been so caught up with our projects that we haven't talked.” You blurt out cheerfully.

When your cast mates saw you all giddy, their smiles widened except for Cillian’s. He tightened his grip around his beer bottle, furious that you were so excited about meeting up with your friends. He wanted to be at the receiving end of that joy, that excitement, that anticipation.

“I expect the same level of excitement for the press tour for our movie.” John laughed.

“Not the same level, John, at least double the amount of excitement.” Nolan teased you.

“Well, we all have to wait and watch,” D’Arcy added.

“I promise to turn my excite-o-meter and charm to the fullest.” You jokingly promised as you side-hugged John, not noticing a set of clear blue eyes filled with rage.

Wheels were turning in Cillian’s brain. He would not let you slip out so easily, not without a fight. You were his, you just know it yet. And he was going to have to make you see that.

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

WHIPPED

Pairing - Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

Summary - You strain from your husband who will not give you attention. He doesn't like that.

Warnings - NONCON, domestic violence, dub con, manipulative, belt whipping, spanking, tommy is mean, degrading words, breeding kink.

Word count - 3k+

Notes - You voted, you received.

Something in Tommy’s intellect changed overnight. Every once in a while, his mind would travel back in time to the war. But now, when he awoke from his nightmares, he still felt like he was crawling through the tunnels. The hairs on the back of his neck stuck up more frequently, his hand rested on his gun a lot. Feeling too skeptical that he’d need to fire it at any second. 

It had impacted your newly wedded marriage, but you didn’t dare to say anything to him. You showed you cared by holding him a little tighter at night. Whilst he laid on the bed like a stone figure, staring up into the ceiling as he refused to fall asleep. 

The sex had turned emotionless like flowers dying without water. The intimacy was dead. It made you down in the mouth and filled your heart with despair. You only wanted to kiss him, talk to him, be held by him. But he had forgotten who you were. 

Over the weeks, your sadness turned into anger. You refused to be upset by his neglect any longer. So, you found other ways to find pleasure in your life and quickly realized that the only way to get your husband’s attention was jealousy. It frustrated Tommy when you started to ignore his presence, venture out without informing him and associating with his family more than him. Tommy would lecture you, wagging his finger at you. You’d only simply nod your head, awaiting for it to be over. Then it would repeat all over again. But Tommy’s mind was too caught up in his business to find the time to truly teach you a lesson. 

Until now, the surprisingly last straw was Arthur whispering something into your ear, resulting in you playfully slapping his shoulder and giggling like a teenager. Tommy’s head snapped to you two, everyone in the reading room still watching Tommy as he awaited for you to acknowledge him. 

After a pause, you finally looked up to Tommy and the stare off commenced. Your eyebrows were furrowed as Tommy’s eyes twitched, he knew you had never been unfaithful. But his mind was now racing with thoughts of the possibility occurring if he didn’t put a stop to his behavior.  

“Well, we will have a break. It seems that my wife has forgotten her manners and I must reteach them…” Tommy declared confidently as he lit another cigarette between his cold lips. 

All heads snapped towards you and Arthur’s face turned beet red. 

“Thomas” you sighed as you pressed your hand to your forehead, cheeks turning a shade darker from embarrassment. 

Any other time, Tommy adored it when you called him by his full name. But this time, he felt as if you were challenging him, trying to humiliate him in front of his family. Tommy took three large strides towards the door and motioned for you to exit in an exaggerated manner. When you merely continued to stare back at him dully he snapped. 

“Get the fuck up!” Tommy raised his voice, causing everyone in the room to flinch. 

Tommy’s eyes were strained, a vein popped out of his forehead as his hands formed to fists. 

“Tommy” Arthur protested, leaning forward in his seat. 

Arthur was always so loyal to Tommy, but grew to be highly protective of you. He was prepared to cop the fire instead, take a beating if he had to. It was his doings anyways, not yours. 

“It’s alright Arthur” you soothed his guilty look, looking confident even though your heart was pounding in shock at your husband’s outburst. 

Tommy saw red when you reassuringly pressed your hand to his chest. Without waiting any longer he marched towards you. You jumped up from your seat before he could yank you up. But he still latched onto your bicep and pulled you out of the room with no care as you winced from his hold. 

“Tommy… You’re hurting me!” You cried as he pulled you up the stairs. 

There was no answer from him. Only the sounds of grunts through his hard expression as he led you to the bedroom. Shoving you into the room, Tommy slammed the door shut and stomped around in circles, his hand tugging at his roots as he heard the shouts and cries of his fallen fellow soldiers. Your arms crossed over your chest, a frustrated expression set on your face by glue. 

“Thomas you’re being dramatic” you pointed out, shaking your head at his behavior. The embarrassment had drenched you completely, he was too furious to notice how awful he had made the situation. 

Tommy’s head shot towards you and he glared at you. 

“Pardon? You parading yourself around my brother in front of my entire family is nothing more than me being dramatic!” Tommy roared as he marched towards you. “Why don’t you fucking respect me!” Tommy yelled, his pale skin now red as he grabbed onto your shoulders in a warning touch. 

His anger spattered onto you as you felt your chest tighten, you scoffed at his words, not intimidated by his hold on you. “Oh calm down Thomas!” You hissed at your husband. 

You fell to the fall before the pain even shot from your cheek. Before the redness even grew on your timid skin. You choked out in shock as you raised your hand to the burning sensation on your cheek. The back of Tommy's hand was still positioned in the air from where he hit you. Tommy had never hit you before, he had vowed to never do it. 

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down” Tommy growled.

Swiftly, he bent down to yank you back up to your feet. When you struggled against his hold and tried to smack him away he hit you again with the front of his hand this time. Then he hit the other cheek just as hard. You screamed out in fear but his hand was swift to smack over your mouth. 

“Who do you fucking think you are? Huh! You wear my name! You’re in my house!” Tommy lectured, shaking you around like a ragdoll before he shoved you back to the ground. 

Tommy went back to walking around in circles, his hand roughly massaged his chin as he wondered what to do with you. His disobedient wife. You laid on the floor, frozen in fear as you stared at his polished shoes twirling around the room. With your hands pressed against your stinging cheeks, tears shedded from your aching eyes. Your sobs were silent and rough. 

A heavy sigh left his lips as he looked down to you. Slowly, he undid his belt and slipped it out of the loops of his pants and folded it in half. Tommy fell back onto the brown leather armchair in the corner of the room and lightly slapped his belt against his knee. 

“Come here, lay over my knee my darling…” Tommy spoke in a soothing voice, but had a wicked grin on his lips. 

You looked up at him with fearful eyes, then your stare was stuck on his belt slapping against his pants. Knowing his intentions, you whimpered out pathetically and shook your head against the floor. 

“N-no” you objected weakly. 

“It wasn’t an offer” Tommy grunted, he leaned towards you, the grip on the leather tightened. “Do it before I show you how strong my foot is” Tommy warned, tapping his foot impatiently.

It took you a moment to get up, you were too busy having a little silent breakdown as you whined at his response. The smirk on his lips grew larger as he watched you gradually crawl towards him, wincing to yourself as you climbed up onto his lap and laid stiff on top of him. 

Tommy sighed as he pulled up your dress, his hand rubbed your ass briefly before he yanked down your panties to your knees. The leather brushed over your backside and you gripped onto his leg in fear as you sobbed quietly. 

“You seemed to have mistaken my kindness for weakness, my darling. I have no problem with showing you my ruthlessness, the many tales you heard of me before we had even met” Tommy explained as he dragged the belt all over your skin. 

“You’re scaring me Tommy” you sniffled out. 

The inside of your throat felt swollen and your chest ached. A harsh slap with the belt landed on your rear. It caused your panicky yelp to echo throughout the room. When you tried to impulsively wiggle yourself off of him he smacked you again with the leather. 

“You’ve lost your privileges to address me by my first name, correct yourself right now!” Tommy ordered, his hold on his belt tight as his free hand went around your back to keep you trapped. 

“Tom-uh Mr Shelby?” You answered unsurely, your expression wincing as your shoulders raised. 

“Good girl!” Tommy praised as the belt smacked against your rear again. 

You chortled out as he continued on with your punishment. Quickly, you lost count with how many times he hit you as he flicked his wrist in a haphazardly manner. Sometimes he’d focus purely on one cheek. Or do slow and heavy smacks across every inch of your skin. Then he’d do quick stings across your rear. 

“Please stop!” you begged, your voice dry and weak, your mouth pressed against his knee as you tried to muffle out your cries. 

“Aw, my darling can’t take it anymore eh?” Tommy chuckled. 

He dropped the belt onto your back and rubbed your tender backside with his bare hand roughly. 

“Please I love you Tommy!” you exhorted, desperately hoping this would ease his suspicions. 

The screech was piercing when he smacked your bruised skin wickedly with his palm. 

“Correct yourself, whore” Tommy spat. 

‘Ah! I love you Mr Shelby” you sobbed out. 

Your head fell back down to his knee, your teeth bit into his leg to silence yourself but he didn't mind. Surprisingly, the pain felt nice to him. 

“That’s a good girl…” Tommy grinned, rubbing your ass again roughly as if he was praising you. “I’m going to beat your ass beyond breaking point. Then I’ll know you’ve learnt your lesson” Tommy addressed. 

“No Mr Shelby please! I understand!” You protested as you squirmed over him. Tommy was quick to hold you on top of him as you tried to swing your body onto the floor. “Please forgive me! I won’t do it again!” You pleaded as you tried to blink back your tears.   

“Stay still before I hit you with the buckle!” Tommy threatened, his words hissing like a viper. 

You mewled out, but listened to his demand. Tommy picked up his belt again and proceeded to whip you with it. 

When your cries had died down and you laid still on him, Tommy dropped the belt to the ground and rubbed your black and blue rear. When his fingers rubbed against your slit, he grinned to himself as he brought them into his sight. They glistered in your fluid and he sucked his fingers clean, moaning to himself at your sweet taste. 

“Seems like I wasn’t the only one that enjoyed this”' Tommy commented as his fingers returned to your cunt, fondling with your folds and teasing your nerves by randomly pushing in a digit. “Have you learnt your lesson?” Tommy cocked an eyebrow to you. 

As you tried to turn your head back towards him, you nodded to him. “Yes Mr Shelby” you spoke out breathlessly. 

“Which is?” He questioned. 

You choked on your words as you blinked back your tears. “To be a good wife to you!”

“Such a good wife…” Tommy soothed as he caressed your bruised ass. “Stand up and strip for your husband” he instructed as he leaned back into his seat. 

Through gritted teeth, you stood on your two feet and slowly stripped till you were completely nude in front of him. Your body shook like a leaf in the wind as you resisted not to cover yourself with your arms. Tommy sighed to himself as he looked your heated figure up and down, and then he pulled out his length and gradually stroked himself a couple of times. Not failing to express how aroused he was through his groans. 

“Come here and sit on my cock eh?” 

“Mr Shelby please” you begged weakly, eyes stinging with discomfort. 

Tommy leaned forward and pointed his finger to you. “Shut up before I change my mind, bend you over and fuck your ass” he warned, his pointed finger completely still. 

You nodded your head like a begging dog and practically ran over to Tommy despite the pain that shot through your rear. You straddled your husband, his hands were on your hips as he grinned up to you, his cock pressed against your inner thigh. 

“Who do you belong to?” Tommy asked as his length pushed into your throbbing, soaked entrance. 

“You Mr Shelby!” You answered through a groan as you slid down his shaft. 

“Good… No more talking to anyone, at all, without my permission eh?” Tommy commanded with a resolute nod. All you could do was nod back as he rocked his hips against yours, his fingernails dug into your flesh as your walls squeezed his size. 

“Mr Shelby” you whined out. 

“You’re mine” Tommy growled animalistically as he leant in to bite your neck. “Only fucking mine. You wanted my attention? You fucking got it” he grunted as he rutted himself deep inside of you. 

Your eyes rolled back as you held onto your husband tightly as he drew blood from your neck. The pain dissolved as the pleasure quickly built up inside of your core. Your mouth had fallen open as you were moaning out shamelessly, Tommy slapped your ass and you squealed. 

“You’re clenching around me so tightly darling, you want to milk me empty eh? Get yourself pregnant?” Tommy asked, his own breathing heavy as he pounded himself into you. 

“Yes Mr Shelby!”

“Keep on squeezing me then, just like that” Tommy coached as his hips thrusted at an immaculate speed. “Maybe another baby in this house would keep you tamed. Let’s give Charlie a little brother or sister eh?” He suggested, a proud smirk on his lips.

All you could do was hum in compliance as you clenched around him. It was so slippery you had to hold your body in place. His balls were slapping against you as you felt your climax climbing as high as it could. The scream from your hot lips echoed throughout the room as you held onto Tommy for dear life. He grunted in response, and shortly followed through with his own climax. 

Your body fell dead on top of him as you tried to catch your breath back. Through deep breaths, your chest rose and fell as your eyes remained shut. Tommy breathed out, his hands caressed your lower back as he inhaled your scent. He was still buried inside of you, he could feel your fluids drip out slowly. 

“Fuck, that was something else, wasn’t it my love?” Tommy asked teasingly as he patted your rear. 

You whimpered, tear stained eyes as you looked up to your husband, he smiled softly to you, you smiled softly back. He guided your hips up, his coated cock slipped out of your swollen entrance with a pop and he helped you onto your feet. 

After he slipped his member back into his pants, Tommy guided you to bend over the bed, you winced as you followed through and he examined you. Down on his knees, Tommy pulled your lips apparent with two fingers as he watched your mixed fluids drip out of you. His hands caressed over your abused skin as he stood back up again.

“If only you could see how beautiful you look my dear” Tommy sighed, his voice dark and husky. 

He pulled you back up and held you in his arms, your flustered body caved against him. Your knees buckled as Tommy held your weak stance up, he murmured to you, his face rubbed against yours like a needy cat.  

“You wanna come down for the rest of the meeting?” Tommy hummed in the crook of your neck. 

The thought of you going back down there frightened you, the humiliation of this sudden occurrence felt too overwhelming. Having all eyes on you would cause you to have a breakdown without a doubt, you knew they heard you, your cries had echoed to the fields. 

“No Mr Shelby” you answered timidly, sniffling to yourself as you tried to cry silently. 

“That’s alright, you rest up, you look exhausted. I’ll come check on you later, I have some business to attend to after this, okay?” Tommy spoke innocently as he led you to the bed. 

Tommy helped you in, you winced at the friction of your rear to the sheets but made no comment to your husband’s kindness. The covers were tucked in around you, Tommy petted your hair to the side and smiled at you. 

“Thank you Mr Shelby” your smile shaked, cheeks still a dark shade of red. 

“Sleep well my love” Tommy whispered before he planted a tender kiss on your lips. 

It’s what you missed so badly, instinctively, your arms reached up from under the sheets and tried to snake around his back. But your body felt so weak, you couldn’t bring yourself up. Tommy hummed and pulled your body up, his hold on your lower back as the sheets slipped down your body already, his tongue slipped straight down your throat as your tongue massaged him. As you moaned directly into his mouth, Tommy pressed your faces together as he gently laid you back onto the bed. 

“I love you” you whispered once more as your head fell deep into the pillow, your tired eyes remained shut. A low hum echoed out of Tommy as you quickly fell asleep. 

Tommy walked back down into the reading room. He knew everyone had heard everything, his eyes locked with Arthur’s. As he shot him a glare, Arthur lowered his head submissively as Tommy continued on with his discussions and concerns to his family.

[paradiseprincesss]

please, please, please | jonathan crane

please please please by sabrina carpenter has been playing in my head nonstop...and the music video? that has jonathan crane and his gf written ALL over it. also i promise I AM WORKING ON REQUESTS i swear.

summary: you warn jonathan not to embarrass you at your dinner party — you know how he is sometimes. thankfully, disasters were avoided during dinner and as a reward, you let him try something new in the bedroom with you that he's been wanting to do.

warnings: smut, p in v, fingering, sex toys (butt plug), anal but only using the toy lol, jonathan kills someone, talk of dead bodies lmfao? mdni 18+ only

word count: 3.9k

masterlist

"what did you do?!" you whisper yell at jonathan, who was currently staring at you with hearts in his eyes and a sheepish smile.

"i didn't know he was going to react this way, swear it," he says quietly, "i just wanted to see what a concentrated dose would do."

you look at the man slumped over on your apartment couch, seemingly dead. you turn your head to jonathan silently, looking at him incredulously as he kept that sheepish smile plastered on his face.

your boyfriend, doctor jonathan crane, had "accidentally" — that's what he claims — murdered your electrician with a too high dose of his fear toxin. he swore that he had thought some man had broken into your house and he was only trying to protect you; which yes, you found sweet, but there was also the issue of the now dead electrician in your living room.

"i swear baby," he says with his hands up defensively, "i thought he broke in."

"i told you that the electrician was coming by today!"

jonathan laughs awkwardly for a moment, but he pulled you close and gave you a little kiss on the forehead. "i'm sorry darling. don't be mad, please."

you let him pull you close, relaxing into his touch, "jonathan, what are we supposed to do with his body? we have dinner guests coming over in less than two hours."

"i got it," he assures you, "don't worry. i'm sure if i just hide his body in the meantime, nobody will notice."

you groan, wriggling out of his grasp as you leave him to it. you get ready, doing your makeup and hair, before picking out on outfit for your dinner party.

you and jonathan recently moved in together, and though you had been dating for quite some time, he hadn't really met your friends all that much. sure, he'd seen them a handful of times, but you wanted your friends to get to know him better — i mean hey, they had asked to.

honestly, you thought you had good judgement and you thought you had good taste. i mean, you managed to snag a handsome, intelligent, financially stable doctor; what else could a girl ask for? and look — yes, you may of had a small, tiny, little track record of dating mentally unstable, dangerous, and wild men but you swore jonathan was different.

he wasn't unstable, dangerous and wild. no, no, no — he was calculated, precise and a murderer! three totally different traits than what you usually go for.

"look at you, baby," jonathan cooed as he watched you walk into the kitchen, "you're the prettiest, my god."

you blush, shaking your head bashfully as you pull him into a kiss, admiring his every feature. "i love you, jon."

"i love you, too."

"but listen to me," you say softly, trying your hardest to sound menacing, "you're a doctor — so act like one. please don't kill one of our guests or anything."

"only for you, darling." he says with a smile, hands resting on your hips.

the doorbell to your apartment rang, and you made your way to the door with jonathan, hand in hand. "oh, and one more thing," you say quickly reaching to unlock your front door, "i beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker."

jonathan holds back a laugh at your not-so-threatening threat as you let your friends in, and the night goes by without a hitch. you don't know where jonathan has hid the dead body in your apartment, but you don't care as long as your guests don't fucking find it.

"it was great getting to see you two again. you guys are so wonderful together. congratulations on the new place, by the way!" your friend tells you as you all wrap up dinner, a few of the other dinner guests still finishing off their wine.

"thank you!" you gush, smiling happily, "we really love it here, right jonathan?"

"yes, darling. it's quite lovely, isn't it?" he replies softly, caressing your hand with his.

"your patio is gorgeous, by the way — great view of the city. we should have a drink out there, it's still early!" another one of your guests suggests, and jonathan shoots you a look.

oh, so that's where he hid the body — on the fucking balcony where anyone could see.

"o-oh!" you stammer, "um, you know, the summer weather is great. wonderful, really — but like, isn't the inside of our brand new apartment just so lovely, too? like look at our new ceiling fan — wow."

your friend looks at you with a confused expression, and she laughs a little awkwardly. "yeah totally, the interior design is so...great."

"yeah, so i have a fun idea," you say rather enthusiastically, to which jonathan has to look away to stop himself from laughing, "maybe let's stay inside? i know your craving some fresh air, but the ceiling fan is so nice."

"darling," jonathan interrupts softly, smiling at you then looking at your friends, "why don't we just schedule a time another day to have drinks all together? i'd love to keep the night going, but i'm afraid i have to work particularly early tomorrow at the asylum."

everyone "ahh'd" in union as they respected what he did for work — he was one of gothams finest, most renown psychiatrists, after all. surprisingly, tonight it was jonathan saving you from slipping up instead of you coming to save him.

as your dinner guests left one by one, you shut the door and locked it as you turn to jonathan with a sweet smile. "thank you for that, i wasn't particularly planning on my friends seeing a dead body out on the balcony tonight."

"relax, baby," jonathan cooed, "i told you i'd handle it, right?"

you look up into your boyfriends beautiful, pale, blue eyes — for someone so notoriously dangerous, he sure was gentle and sweet with you. of course, jonathan did have a soft spot for you and you only.

he would openly admit it, too.

"right, sorry," you whisper as he leans down from his towering height to kiss you, "i trust you."

he hums in satisfaction, then captured your lips in a kiss. his gentle hands roamed across your body, and suddenly, jonathan was pulling you flush against him. through broken kisses and breathless panting, his hand found it's way to your neck. when he gave it a light, experimental squeeze, you moaned into the kiss — he knew this was exactly how to get you going.

"go to the bedroom," he commands softly, "and be ready when i get there, darling."

you look at him inquisitively for a second, but as soon as he raises a brow; you don't ask any questions. he goes into the living room to rummage around for something, and you make your way into your shared bedroom.

you slip out of your evening attire, keeping the lacy, black, intimate lingerie you had underneath on as you patiently wait on the bed for your boyfriend. after a few moments, he returns with something in his hands — a small, dainty, pink gift box with a white ribbon adorned around it.

"i was good for you tonight, right darling?" jonathan asked softly, handing the pink gift box over to you as you start to unravel the bow on top.

"of course you were." you sigh, smiling dopily at him.

he hummed as you opened the box and your eyes went wide, "well, now i want you to be good for me, baby."

inside the dainty, pink, gift box was a butt plug, and on the end of it was a shimmering, baby pink, sparkly gem. "jonathan," you blush profusely, "y-you wanna do...?"

"i just want you to try it out while i fuck you, darling. see how it feels — it's an experiment i've been wanting to try out with you for a while." he says lowly, watching you like a hawk as you took it out of the box.

"i've never done anything...there." you say shyly, and he kisses you gently; of course he'd see sex as a way to experiment.

this was a man of science we're talking about, after all.

"that's alright," he assures you with a quiet chuckle, "i'll guide you through it, okay? you trust me, don't you?"

"yeah," you giggle, "okay — fine, but just this once."

jonathan eyed you down in your black, lacy lingerie as you shuffled around on the bed, bending over as you reached for the lube in the bedside drawer. he had to stop himself from groaning aloud when he saw your already wet cunt soaking through your undergarments — all bent over and needy for his fat cock.

you tossed the bottle of lube over to the side of the bed, crawling over to jonathan as his eyes turned three shades darker at the sight. after you crawled into his lap, he slowly unhooked your very lacy, very see through bralette, slipping it right off your shoulders.

his hands immediately came to paw at your tits as you rested your head on his collarbone, leaning back at the feeling of his strong hands tweaking your perked up nipples.

"jonathan," you breathlessly moan, "please."

"be good for me, baby — be patient." he whispered against your ear, nipping it lightly.

his feather light touch traced down, further and further until he got to your underwear. his fingers hooked into the lace trim, gently and ever so slowly helping you out of the undergarment. you felt your breath hitch lightly as the cold air hit your bare, soaked core, and you leaned further back into jonathan.

jonathan — who by the way, was still fully clothed — swiped two fingers through your dripping folds gently, causing you to jump at the sudden pleasurable feeling. "you're soaked," he noticed, placing a kiss down your neck, "i've barely touched you."

"i-i know," you whimper, "but—"

"i bet you liked it when i said i wanted to experiment on you, hm? did that turn you on, darling? knowing that i'm studying your every reaction to my touch?"

you bit your lip as he spoke, cutting you off as you whimpered under his touch. yes — he was on the dot with his assumptions and observations. sure, you'd never used a butt plug before but hey, if it was with jonathan, you were pretty much down for anything.

"yes," you admitted breathlessly, "fuck, jon."

it was strange — the thought of him studying you during sex in such a...clinical way. it was a major turn on for you, in fact, you didn't know if you'd ever been so turned on before. jonathan proceeded to slowly insert a finger into your drooling hole, causing you to let out a choked moan.

"yeah, you're fucking dripping." he observed, peppering kisses down your neck and shoulders as you relaxed your head onto his. after he fucked you with one finger for no more than a minute, he was suddenly inserting another — it was no issue though, you were so wet that his second finger slipped in without resistance.

you arched your back instinctively, letting out choked, breathless moans as you whimpered his name sweetly. it was like music to jonathan's ears — hearing you fall apart as he carefully, slowly, and precisely turned you into nothing in just mere minutes.

"s-so close!" you squeaked out, and jonathan was suddenly drawing his fingers out of you, causing your jaw to drop and you to turn around to look at him with disbelief.

"i know," he cooed, "now, turn back around and get on all fours. face down, ass up."

you looked at him with surprise, but jonathan was always in control in the bedroom — this wasn't new by any means, but it sure was hot. listening and hanging onto his every word, you do as he asks, getting on all fours as you hear him shuffle around behind you.

with your ass up and your pretty face down, you bite your lip as you hear the pop of the lube bottle cap being opened. you gasp quietly as you feel a foreign, cold, silicone texture poke at your ass — it was almost embarrassing how wet this was making you.

"look at how wet you're getting, and i haven't even put the toy in your ass yet." jonathan chuckled lowly, feeling his cock straining so hard against his pants that he thought the zipper might pop open.

"s-shut up." you try to retaliate, but it comes out more like a broken, desperate plea.

"m'gonna push it in now, okay? not all the way, i promise i'll be gentle — and slow." jonathan says softly, his voice easing your nerves.

though you wished you could see his face, the thought was soon wiped from your mind as you felt the silicone toy being pushed into you, stretching your ass out. thankfully, it wasn't painful. it felt uncomfortable at first, but the more he pushed, the more you got used to the stretch.

"how's it feeling, baby?" jonathan asked lowly, watching your glistening cunt clench around nothing.

"s'okay," you respond, "is it almost all the way in?"

"almost, just a little more to go. you look so good like this, darling. letting me do whatever i want to you, and you just take it like a good girl."

his words made your cheeks burn, and you whine as you felt him give the toy one more gentle push into your ass. it felt good, surprisingly, but it also felt full. you felt full.

"is it hurting?" jonathan asked with concern, and you shook your head no, finally looking behind you as you saw his face.

his cheeks were dusted with a pink colour, and his lips looked plush. he was extremely turned on — that much was obvious with just the way he looked. your eyes trailed down to the tent in his pants; he was so hard it looked like his trousers were about to rip.

"feels really full, though," you giggle softly, "i'm guessing you like the view?"

"god, baby," he groans, "i wish you could see what i'm seeing right now — your ass up with a pretty, pink gemstone in it. all stretched out and waiting for me to fuck your pretty little cunt, hm?"

"mm, y-yeah." you moan as he reaches for your hips, gently turning you onto your back as he pushes you into the soft pillows.

the butt plug still felt a little odd to you as you switched positions, now laying on your back, but it felt good at the same time. as your mind was focused on the feeling of that, you look back up at jonathan to see him desperately trying to undress himself. as controlled and precise as the doctor was — he was a needy mess when it came to you.

"hurry up, doctor crane," you tease, biting your lip as he huffs, clearly affected by your little comment, "i'm so fucking wet—"

"i'm gonna fuck you till you can't think anymore," he interrupted, his voice strained, "you're going to be so full with my cum."

his suit jacket was long gone, and now so was his white button down and tie. his trousers had seemingly disappeared somewhere as well, and his leaking, hard, veiny cock sprung free, hitting his stomach lightly as he took it out.

within seconds, your legs were spread for him. pupils blown wide.m jonathan was positioned between your legs, the tip of his cock rubbing up against your dripping cunt, and you whined when he teased your folds. "how does it feel?" jonathan asks softly, just barely putting the head in, "you feel nice and full, darling? all stretched out?"

"s-so full," you pant, "but i need your cock — so badly."

he smirks to himself; his ego clearly being stroked with the way he had you, his beautiful girlfriend, in bed begging for him and letting him do whatever he pleases to any of your holes.

with a sudden thrust, he slid into you with ease from how slick your cunt was, and you gasped at the feeling of his cock filling you up. jonathan set a moderate pace; not too fast but not too slow, either.

"does it feel good, baby? having both your holes all stuffed?" he asks, fucking into you gently as you struggled to speak.

"y-yes!" you said to him, voice shaky, "feels so good, f-fuck—"

jonathan continued to thrust his thick cock into your tight, wet hole and within seconds, you were cockdrunk. your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you moaned his name over and over, incoherently begging for something. you weren't sure what exactly you were begging for, but as long as you were begging — jonathan was satisfied.

this is how he liked you — fucked out and willing to do anything for him. to be fair, he would do absolutely anything (and i mean anything, including murder), for you too. you were his girl, his everything, what he needed in his life — so naturally, nothing was off the table when it came to what he'd do for you.

but nothing beat the feeling of you submitting to him like this.

"god, you're already close, aren't you, my love?" jonathan asked softly, picking up his pace as his cock brushed up against your walls.

he was right — you were close. the way his thick, veiny cock stretched you open while you were stuffed with a toy in your other hole had you feeling ready to tip over the edge in just seconds. "insatiable," jonathan commented as he plowed into you faster and harder, "that's what you are, darling. look at my needy girl; she needs all over holes filled and stretched, all the fucking time."

his filthy, degrading (but also very hot) comments tipped you over the edge, and before you knew it — you were coming undone all over his cock as he groaned. a plethora of whines and pleas left your lips, but you were so gone from the way he was fucking you stupid, you didn't even realize what was said in that moment.

before you could register what was happening, jonathan pulled out of you quickly. he flipped you onto your stomach, being quite gentle with you, as he grabbed onto your hips, indicating he wanted you to be on all fours again. understanding what he was asking, you did what you knew to do — be face down, ass up.

"jesus," jonathan groans from behind you, giving your ass a light spank, "fuck, look at that."

you whine at the gentle spank he gave you, and his fingers brushed up against your other hole, where the butt plug was sitting. "j-jon," you whined, "please."

you heard him chuckle lowly, his cock brushing up against your folds once more as he slowly split you open on his cock. he was enjoying this far too much — the sight of you with that pink gemstone in your ass and the way your cunt took his cock deeper and deeper with every thrust? it was driving him insane.

"fucking beautiful," he groaned, "h-how'd you manage to get even tighter, baby?"

"f-feels so good, oh m-my god!" you started to scream into the pillows as one of jonathan's hands snaked down and started to rub at your clit.

as you were about to cum from the way he was rubbing your sensitive clit, he removed his hand which caused you to whine. he chuckled softly from behind you, fucking you into the mattress so deep and rough, you were for sure going to be sore for the next week to come.

suddenly, you gasped as your cunt started to flutter around jonathan's length. his hand that was previously on your clit, was now toying with the butt plug, teasingly pushing it in and out gently. he didn't pull it out all the way, but just ever so slightly — just enough so that every time he pushed it back in, you'd feel so full again.

"are you about to cum, baby?" jonathan asked sweetly, "are you about to cum on my cock?"

"f-fuck, yes! yes!" you screamed as jonathan fucked you even faster.

"s-shit, me too," he groaned, "come now, baby — fuuuck!"

as your vision went white and you creamed his cock, jonathan gave you a few more harsh thrusts before he spilled his cum into you. hot ropes of cum covered your walls, filling your hole up completely.

as both of you were coming down from your intense highs, jonathan pulled out after a moment. his cum started to leak from your cunt, and he took two fingers to push it back in — causing you to whine at the sensation.

his demeanour changed the second you two weren't fucking anymore — he was soft, doting, and loving towards you as soon as he cleaned you up. he helped you into his arms, pulling you close as the two of you curled up under the sheets in the crisp, cool, air-conditioned bedroom.

"that was something," jonathan says, being the first one to break the silence, "did you like it? i didn't hurt you, right?"

"no, you didn't hurt me at all, baby," you laughed softly, kissing him on the cheek, "and yeah, it was really ejoyable."

"i see. well, i'm glad you enjoyed it, darling." he smiles at you lovingly, pulling you into a gentle, passionate kiss.

as you wrapped your arms around his neck, you looked up at your devoted boyfriend with the most loving, adorable, and kind look that jonathan had ever seen. "i love you, jonathan. that was fun."

"i love you too, darling," he says, but he pauses before getting up with a sigh, "i'm sorry to cut this moment short, my dear, but i do believe that i have a certain...body to dispose of in a timely manner."

"you and your pillow talk, jonathan. it never seizes to amaze me — last week it was about that patient you terrorized at work and this week, it's the dead electrician on our balcony." you said with a small smile, biting your lip as you teased your deranged, doctor boyfriend.

"well, all i can say is that i'm lucky to have you in my life, my dear." he said softly, looking at you with those gorgeous, pale, icy blue eyes of his. "i truly do love you."

as he turned around to look at you once more time before leaving the bedroom to go deal with the body on the balcony, you smile at him sweetly. he had his bodies on the balcony and you had your skeletons in your closet — you just understood him.

everyone has their ghosts, right? and plus, as long as nobody else knew about the whole scarecrow and murderer thing, then it would be fine. it would aways be fine.

"i truly love you too, jonathan," you said after a moment, and you could've sworn that you saw the scarecrow himself start to blush, "but if you wanna go and be stupid, don't do it in front of me."

he shakes his head on his way out — presumably to dispose of the body in ways you didn't really want to know of. jonathan's voice called out back to you as he made his way to the balcony doors.

"noted, my love!"

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

@xanaxiii @nocturnest @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones 

@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @dolleyednymphette @kpopgirlbtssvt 

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

@aprilsfrog05 @minedofmoria @strangeobsessed @5tud10-54r4h @franzine-xii @stsrfujid

[tommyshelbysgoodgirl]

The man spread is fucking INSANE🫦😩‼️

[michaellangdonswhore]

warnings: again, smut. put me in a fucking hospital.

word count: 5.5k

----------------------------------------------------------

You were, by far, Jonathan Crane's least favorite student.

You knew it, and it was complete bullshit. You were always on time, always in every class, and always completed the work. You had always had such good grades in every class, but not with him.

While not giving you the worst grade imaginable, you were never able to get over an A-, which pissed you the fuck off. Obviously, to any other normal student studying psychology, they'd take the A-, but not you.

And again, nothing over an A-. There was the frequent B+, sometimes B, and when you really pissed him off he would go as low as a B-.

You've done everything you could to get him to like you. You would ask questions, clearly put extra effort into the homework, and even applied to laboratory studies that he ran. You hated not being liked.

However, at this point in the year, you had given up on trying. You still did everything you were supposed to do, because you wanted a good grade, but you hadn't bothered participating or showing any interest anymore. You had decided to focus more on your other classes. Due to this, you had been working late into the night, causing you to be exhausted for your 8 AM lectures with Crane.

You were exhausted, trying to pay attention. Your head hurt so much for looking at a screen for so long last night.

Crane is flipping through a slideshow, and you find yourself dozing. It's not that this stuff bored you, you had just already learned it back when you took AP Psych your sophomore year of high school.

You snap back into reality when you hear your name being called.

Crane is singling you out with an annoyed expression on his face. You turn red because everyone, all 400 other people in the class, are staring at you.

"I'm sorry. Is this boring you?" He puts his hands on his hips.

"No-" You begin.

You're stammering. You normally don't have such a rough time with public speaking, but being downright exhausted and being singled out for nearly falling asleep in class is extremely embarrassing.

He pauses for a moment and stares you down.

You feel as if you were naked, as if you were completely exposed to him. You didn't like him looking at you like that, like he was taking into account every imperfection.

"As I was saying..."

Thank god.

He resumes to what he was talking about before and you're more alert, heart pumping full of humiliation. You're taking notes now, typing quickly and probably annoyingly loud (you can tell because he keeps shooting you small glares every time you hit the spacebar).

Finally, the hour is up and he reminds everyone about the homework due that Friday. You collect your stuff and head out the door. You don't realize, but he watches you leave.

Everything you do irks him.

Maybe it was because your first paper challenged his psychological beliefs, or because your intelligence challenged him in general. But literally everything about you pisses him off.

Your loud typing, your questions that challenges his lectures, how you turn everything in on time, how you flawlessly converse with the other students. He is so desperately waiting for you to slip up.

As previously stated, you were putting less effort than before into his class. He picked up on this. You were turning your papers and chapter readings in the last minute, you weren't asking questions, and you were even falling asleep.

You had three days to complete a portion of the assignments given. You completely forgot about it.

Due to your tiredness and your weakening desire to try for the class, you had forgotten to write down the homework in a planner that you always checked daily.

Crane is a quick grader, and usually he always grades your homework first; more specifically, as soon as you turn it in.

You realized you didn't do the work as soon as you woke up that morning for your 8 AM class. You had never ever missed an assignment. Ever. And you had no time to do it and make it to his class on time. You were freaking the fuck out.

It's okay. Maybe he hasn't graded it yet.

But no. He was such a strict grader. He was harsh.

Whatever. You may as well hope for the best.

To distract yourself from your predicament, you talk to the boy who sits next to you in the class. It's just smalltalk about the workload and about an upcoming test.

You stop talking when Crane clears his throat. You shift back in your seat and open your laptop.

"It's a Friday. It's 8 AM," Crane begins. You think this is going to be the introduction of a psychological speech. "For all 399 of you that did your homework last night, go enjoy your Friday morning."

People being looking around and whispering, not sure if this is a trick, but you know it's not.

You're freaking out. Your heart is racing and you cannot believe that he would actually do this to you. Usually teachers will just give you a bad grade and call it that, but to single you out and have the entire class leave except for you is an all time low.

"I'm not messing with you," Crane continues. "Go. You know who you are."

He's looking at you dead in the eye and you stay put as people slowly get up to leave, looking around to make sure others are doing the same. You avoid his gaze, looking at your computer screen.

Soon enough, everyone is out of the large lecture room, some looking back to see the one person who didn't do their work.

Once the door is shut, and everyone is completely out of sight, Crane locks both of the doors and looks up at you.

"Are you deliberately trying to fail my class?" He questions. "I thought you wanted to be outstanding."

You can't find words to say. He scoffs and moves to his desk, shuffling through papers and bringing out a decently large stack to over to you. It feels like hours pass by as he walks up the steps to you and drops them onto your desk.

You look at them, confused.

"This is the homework that was due at midnight." He explains.

"It's never so much..." You stammer. You can feel his hatred burning into your skin.

"It's what's due next Wednesday, Friday, and the following week too. Let's see if you can get this done by.... hm," He checks his watch. "By the end of the period?"

"All of this?" Your eyes widen.

"When's your next class?" He asks.

"You're my only one today." You continue to avoid his eye contact.

"Then you can stay." He says. "Until you finish all the work."

"But-"

"I can't trust that you'll do it." Crane says, taking a step back from you. "You need to complete it. In front of me."

"Please, Professor," You try to defend yourself. "I've been-"

"I can assume what you've been doing, you've almost fallen asleep in my class." He scoffs.

You feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment over him getting the wrong impression. Does he really think that low of you?

You take a deep breath. You'll just have to deal with this.

"Do you have a pencil?"

He grabs a black pen from his desk and looks up to you, motioning to sit in the front row. Close enough. You swallow your pride and grab your things and the stack of paper, walking down to the seats in the front.

The class itself is an hour, but it took you almost five to complete the amount of homework he gave you. The readings were long, and the quality of work was demanding. You were eager to do well, to prove yourself.

You hate that he hated you.

His eyes were on you the entire time you did your work. The silence was loud, but you pushed through it. You got three weeks of homework done, and proudly put the stack back onto his desk.

"I'll see you Monday, Professor," you smile, then walk away.

After that, you tried harder; harder than you tried compared to every other class you took. You did this, not to get him to like you- but to get back at him with the fact that you knew your shit; you were a good student. You sat in the front, did side research, and spent nights studying for his endless quizzes. And he wanted to fail you to make you stop what you were doing, but you were getting all the answers right and you both knew that. He wouldn't want you taking anything to the next level.

With you in the front, it made it harder for him to not be distracted by you. Mid speech he would find himself locking eyes with you, disrupting his words and leaving him stammering for a brief moment. Ever since you've upped the eye contact, you've gained more control of the situation.

You arrived in class that Wednesday; the situation in which Crane forced you to stay and do two weeks worth of work in front of him occurred around three weeks ago. You're sitting in the front in between two empty seats; no one likes to sit in the front in Crane's class. It's usually only filled with around three to four people. Crane isn't in class yet, which is weird considering he's always there early, before anyone else even gets there. The class is almost about to begin and he's never been late.

Soon enough, it's one minute after the class is supposed to start and he's still not there. You start feeling antsy, wondering where he is.

Finally, he walks in; two minutes after class is supposed to start. So unlike him.

He places his briefcase on the desk and begins setting up his computer while everyone takes out something to take notes with.

"Now, you all know what I specialize in, I hope," He states, not breaking eye contact with his computer.

He specialized in phobias. Apart from dedicating his time to teaching you, he was a therapist mainly for fears.

"I'm sure we all know what exposure therapy is, correct?" He asks. Pretty much the whole class nods in unison. "Good. For those of you not on the same page, it's the type of therapy which someone is exposed to their fear or trauma."

He begins flipping through his slideshow, giving more and more information and lecturing about it, but you can't help but notice it's an almost bias review.

You're left with homework to write a review on some boring documentary on the history of exposure therapy and a pretty long excerpt of the textbook you all were reading.

So, you did your work and followed all of the instructions. You wrote a review on exposure therapy.

The next Monday, you get to class and you sit in the front row. There's a big stack of paper on Crane's desk, and you assuming that you're getting a pop-quiz, but no, that's not the case.

Crane's waiting for everyone with his shoulder rested on the large stack of papers. Once the time hits 8, he begins.

"I printed out all of your outlines," He begins. "I've made some comments and given some feedback. We'll spend the class working on them."

He starts calling out names and one by one, people receive their papers. You're sort of anxious- you left a pretty negative review on exposure therapy, something that he seemed so passionate about.

"Y/N Y/L/N." He says, saying your voice with more of an annoyed tone than the other students. You get up and grab your paper from his hands, tugging harder due to his firm grip. Clearing his throat, he continues calling out the following names. You go back to your seat, nervous to look at the paper. When you sit and look at it, your stomach dropped.

There's nothing on the front page. Then you look at the second.

See me after class.

There is literally nothing but a see me after class.

Oh my god.

What did I do?

Was he offended at all by what was written? Surely, that wasn't your intention... yes, you wanted to piss him off, but you had some respect for him. You didn't want to actually maybe- make him insecure about his work?

Class seemed to take hours to go by; you didn't even know what to do about your paper. He gave no other feedback other than to see him after class. How were you supposed to work with that?

You looked around at your classmates typing away. You're annoyed that he actually helped them.

See me after class.

At least give me feedback on my fucking paper.

Everyone then realized the time and began to pack up. Crane stood up from his desk and took his glasses off.

"Remember, papers are due Friday!" He manages to get out before people start heading out the door.

You put your things in your bag, trying to act out to your classmates as if you were leaving. You felt so embarrassed. You hated how he kept embarrassing you and how he had the power to do that. It was infuriating. You felt him staring at you as you packed your stuff up, moving slower, nervous that he would call you out.

You took your time, though, waiting till everyone was out of the room.

With everyone else there, you felt so confident. You were one of the smart ones and you at least had witnesses, but alone with him? You were completely inferior. He could quite literally ruin your life with a bad grade and could easily tarnish your image, being the head of Arkham and all that.

"I found your paper quite interesting," He says, emphasizing quite.

"I'm sorry-" you begin. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"Offend me?" He scoffs. "You think you offended me?"

"I just- I know this is what you do, right?" You stammer.

"I'm interested in your point of view." He says. "About the pain, how it's long term. I'm interested as to why you seem so against it."

You shrug.

"What's your biggest fear, Y/N?" He asks you. "What is it? Failure?"

"I'm not trying to fail."

"Oh, yes, you've proven that." He clicks his tongue. "Sitting in the front, turning things in quickly, wearing shorter skirts. Don't think I don't notice what you're doing."

"What?"

"You write intensely about the struggle that people with PTSD-"

"Wait," you interrupt him. "What did you say?"

"I'm trying to discuss with you what you've written."

"Professor, my clothing choices have nothing to do with me wanting to do well in this class," you say. Now you're offended.

Instead of apologizing, which is what you think any decent person would do, he looks you up and down and scoffs.

"You're wearing tights."

"What?"

"Surely, those must be uncomfortable. You're not wearing those to satisfy yourself," he says.

You grow red, and angry.

He keeps humiliating you.

"Who are you trying to impress?"

"Will you stop?" you groan in frustration. "Why don't you just let me get by like you let everyone else get by? I do everything you ask!"

"I want to know who you're trying to impress."

"I'm not trying to impress anyone," you hiss, finally looking up at his crystal eyes.

You know it's disrespectful, but you turn to walk away and to leave.

"No, no. We're not done."

You ignore him, walking towards the door, but he quickly beats you to it, shutting it and locking you in.

"I said we're not done." He said, completely composed. "Sit."

"I want to leave."

"Your biggest fear is failure, yes?" He questions. You don't nod or shake your head, but it is pretty much true; you hate failing. You need to succeed and be good at everything you do. "Sit. I can very much make that fear come true."

"I do everything," you repeat. "Everything. I do it on time, I'm here always, I'm prepared for everything."

"Can you just fucking-" He pushes you down onto the seat next to his desk. "Sit?"

You weren't expecting him to physically force you to sit down, but you could pick up on the pent up frustration he had with you.

"The off the cut sweater, no bra-" He points out.

You weren't wearing a bra. You were surprised he had picked up on the fact- you could've been wearing a strapless, but no. He was right.

"Are you even wearing underwear?" He whispers.

You're flushed.

What the fuck was going on?

You thought he hated you.

And yeah, you knew he was an attractive man, that's what made this whole thing pretty exciting, but you never thought you would be sat down with him leaning over you saying things like this.

"Let me see."

"Professor?"

He grabs you off the chair and pushes you onto his desk, spreading your legs for you. Everything was moving too quickly; this all felt like a fever dream.

He tugs at the middle of your tights, ripping them open to expose your- and he was right- bare pussy. He lets out a chuckle.

"You're not trying to impress anyone?" He questions, again, peering up at you.

You try moving your thigh to cover yourself, but he forcefully keeps them open.

"Who was that boy you used to sit next to... Tim, is it?"

To be honest, you really didn't know that kids name. He was just someone you sat next to out of habit since you had picked that seat the first day of classes. But you hadn't been sitting with him for weeks at that point.

"Is Tim who you're trying to impress?"

"No!" You argue, still trying to fight the grip of his hand off your thigh. "I told you... I'm not trying to impress anyone."

"Hm." He says, placing two fingers on exactly the right spot of your clit, slowly rubbing in circles. . "You're not even trying to impress me?"

You stay silent, for a brief moment.

"Not in this way..."

But it's past that point now. He's already touching you, rubbing faster, and your exposed pussy is laid out right in front of his face. You're embarrassed and self conscious. He's too close for comfort.

"Yeah?"

The fingers once on your clit are now entering you. You still can't comprehend the situation.

But for him, he was putting you in your place. It was enough of the looks in class, the semi sexual and revealing clothing, the obvious need for his approval and to show him she was as smart- maybe even smarter than him himself.

"Is that why you're letting me touch you like this?" He asks, using the two fingers to pump your pussy.

It's out of your control but you're getting wetter the longer and faster he fingers you. It's beginning to show, beginning to drip down his fingers and onto his wrists. He notices this, then stops and looks.

"Disgusting," He huffs before licking his fingers clean.

"That's disgusting," You repeat at him, glaring a little, but you can't help but want his finger- more of him back inside you. You feel empty, desperate for his hands back on you.

"I don't see you asking me to stop."

You're silent, again.

He smiles, kneeling back down and spreading your legs open again, this time with a more forceful grip. He doesn't use his fingers this time, devouring you with his hot mouth and basically digging in.

He was really good at this. To be fair, no one had ever actually eaten you out, but you had never felt anything like it. He moves his fingers towards you again and fucks you with them as he sucks and licks at your clit. He was freakishly good. You felt something drip down your thigh; you didn't know if you were sweating or if you were fucking leaking. By the sound of it, probably the second one.

He removes his fingers and dives deep into your pussy more, making obscure sounds as he does so. He stops and looks up at you.

"Take your shirt off. I want to see your tits," he demands.

You comply; he's already seen a lot.

"Fuck, they're perfect." He says, now standing over you, playing with them and poking and twisting at your hardened nipple. He's pushing his hardened clothed dick into your bare pussy, giving you some friction has he sucks on your neck and plays with your nipples.

He grabs your hips and flips you over, putting you on your stomach and leaning you over the desk.

He kneels back down, eating your pussy again; he can't get enough of it. He can't get enough of the small whines escaping your throat and the way you leak and how you shake when it feels good- or when the pleasure becomes too much.

He adds his fingers in again, this time three, and you let out a louder, but not too loud, moan than usual.

"Professor-"

"You can take it." He assures you. "You better take it. If you can't take this how can you take my cock?"

You just weren't used to it- you had been fucked, but not for so long. He keeps licking and devouring your clit while pumping in and out of you. You feel so full- on the brink. You feel hot, and god you feel good. You don't even realize it, but you're riding his mouth and his fingers.

"You know, I wasn't going to let you come," Crane begins between breaths, keeping his face close to your pussy so you could still feel him. "But now that I think about it... I want you cum drunk on my dick. I wanna make you cum over and over again until you're a fucking mess."

He goes back to sloppily and messily eating you out again. It was so dirty; the noise, what was leaking out of you. You then felt that familiar feeling and you couldn't stop it; no matter how wrong this felt or how humiliated and exposed you felt, you couldn't stop yourself from moaning like a mess and cumming all over his mouth.

You needed a second to recover, but he stood up and grinded his clothed dick against you. You weren't ready for the friction, wincing over the contact with you sensitive clit. He grabbed your neck and pulls your back to him, kissing you, continuing to grind.

He unbuttons his pants and undoes his boxers, his large thick cock springing out, begging to be touched. He pushes one of your legs up onto the desk to give him better access to you.

"You're fucking soaked," He says as he teases himself some more, collecting what's came out of you as some lubricant.

He keeps rubbing your clit and the outside with his dick, back and forth. It feels good, but it's not enough. He pushes harder with his dick on your clit, continuing to hump you.

"Professor, please," you look back at him, trying to guilt him into giving in and fucking you, but it's not that easy.

"Shut up, and let me take my time." He says. He continues this for a little, before getting a new idea. "I want you to cum on my cock without me fucking you."

"What?"

He pulls you towards him then on his lap on the chair next to his desk.

"Grind on it." He demands, holding you in place by your hips. "Get it soaked."

You hesitate, but he's impatient. He pushes you down and moves your hips for you until you begin to do it with him. You grind your pussy against his cock, stimulating your clit once more. It didn't feel as good as his mouth, and god it probably didn't feel as good as his dick would feel inside you, but it felt good. And you were so fucking horny, you were on the brink of cumming again.

"Yeah, yeah, you got it," he praised you, rocking your hips back and forth. He digs his nails into your hips, definitely leaving some cuts in your skin, but you didn't care. You were so close. He begins to bounce up, pretending to thrust into you, adding to your pleasure. "That's it, you- oh fuck, yes, cum on my fucking dick."

You're dripping onto him as you ride out your high, clenching around nothing. It seems to last for a while, wrapped up in all the pleasure combined with his dirty talk.

He angles his cock towards your entrance and pushes into you- he feels hot and he's sensitive due to teasing himself. But no- he doesn't want to cum yet. He wants to put you in your fucking place. And even if he does cum, he has no issue continuing and even fucking a baby into you. Then, you'd have to walk around with the shame.

He gently picks you up, but then harshly slams you up and down repeatedly onto his cock. You've had no time to readjust after cumming a second time, and you were extremely sensitive.

"Slower, professor, please," You cry, burying your face into his shoulder. "It hurts..."

"Shut the fuck up."

He grabs you by the neck and pounds up into you, rubbing your clit as well to add to the sensation.

Yes, it feels good, but it's so overwhelming you can't help but tear up. Crane notices this and it goes straight to his head.

"Are you fucking crying?" He scoffs. "Fucking crying for me?"

He picks you up, keeping you firmly attached to his dick, and throws you over the desk again. He's fucking you deeper and at an animalistic pace; like he fucking needs this.

"Keep crying for me. Keep fucking crying."

He harshly grips your tits, twisting your nipple in the process.

"Fucking perfect tits, perfect pussy, perfect everything. You fucking strive for perfection- but you're letting me fucking ruin you. Is this how far you'd go for a good grade?" He laughs, fingers deep in your clit.

You can only moan in response, but this doesn't satisfy him.

"Fucking answer me."

"Yes," you cry out.

"Yeah, you're just a fucking whore who'd sleep her way to the top if that's what it took." He says, tugging your hair back, your sweaty bodies pressed closer together.

His words are filthy, but you're fucking cumming again.

He's laughing, mocking you for doing so.

"You fucking like being treated like a bitch, don't you?" He says, fucking you through your third orgasm. You don't know how he's not tired. As you expect, he doesn't give you a fucking break. You're worn out at this point; almost numb.

"Professor, I don't know-"

"You don't know if you can keep going?" He questions. "Yeah, you can. I'll fucking make you keep going. What was that... your third orgasm? Let me see if I can double that."

"Professor..."

"I'll stop when you give me three more."

You feel like you're going to pass out; the pleasure had become too much, but you were so fucking sensitive that a fourth one had come quickly. Your pussy was so swollen and red, but he had not gotten off of you.

"You're fucking..." He brings you back to the chair and places you on top of him. "You're fucking leaking all over me, fucking hell. So wet... do you hear yourself?"

You could hear yourself. It was disgusting. It was filthy.

"Aren't you embarrassed?" He asks. He slows down his pace, and you know he's teasing you. "Embarrassed that you're whoring yourself out to me like this? To a professor that so clearly disliked you? This is what you do for my approval."

He slows his pace some more.

"Would you do this for any other professor, Y/N? Let them fuck your pussy till you have nothing left to give? Bounce on their cock the way you do for me?"

"No, professor," you shake your head, trying to bounce faster but he keeps your hips in place, restricting you. He had succeeded- made you cum drunk and fucked you stupid, but this wasn't enough. He needed more. "No, no, only you. I'd only do this for you."

You're squirming around on his dick. He's stopped moving at this point, just staying in you.

"Stop fucking moving around. Don't you want to impress me?"

"Have I not?" You begin to regain some of your strength with this somewhat of a break he was giving you. "Have I not impressed you, professor?"

You give him puppy eyes as you gain some control of the situation, his grip loosing and you bouncing on his cock at a pace you like.

"I want to impress you, professor," you say seductively. "I want to- fuck!"

You start chasing your high again, you didn't even realize that you'd ever be able to cum this many times.

"Fuck!" You repeat. Crane is letting you take control, enjoying the show of you riding his cock, using him for your pleasure. "Do you like this, professor? Do you like when I fucking bounce on your dick like this?"

You had never heard yourself like this, or ever expected to talk like this. You had never felt so confident.

"Have you imagined this professor?" You continue. He's obviously at a loss for words, not expecting this side of you. "Have you imagined fucking me? Have you imagined bending me over your desk and eating me out till I came all over your face? My tits? Putting me in my fucking place?"

His hands found your hips again and he's helping you ride his cock. He's loving the words coming from your mouth.

"God, I think you wanted this more than I did," you laugh. You're so close. You wanted him to talk, but his reactions to your words were enough for you. "Make me cum again, professor, please. I- fuck!"

He's pushing into you and bouncing you up and down quickly and you're riding out your fifth orgasm.

He pulls you off of him and lays you out on the desk again, licking up your sore pussy. He hums while doing this, telling you how you taste so good. You're so- so sensitive, though, and you can't help but cumming on his tongue again not even seconds later, letting out a string of incoherent words.

That's six.

You look at him, but he's positioning himself in you.

"You said six-"

"I say a lot of things. I want you to cum on my cock again." He says, kissing your neck. "Last time. I promise."

He pumps into you, at a softer, but still quick pace. You feel so incredibly numb, but he still manages to work you up quickly while fondling your breasts and pressing hot kisses into your neck.

"Ah- fuck." He pants, fucking himself into you. "Fuck... gonna cum in you. Want you to fucking carry me around for the rest of the fucking day."

You don't object- your hearing was probably a little impaired at this point.

"Yeah, you want that, don't you. It's like a fucking award to you."

He's holding you closer now. You both are so sweaty and sticky.

You're about to cum again, but he grabs your throat tightly.

"Fucking wait for me. Don't be impatient."

As hard as it is, you listen to him. He speeds up, becoming sloppy before he cries, "Fuck, cum! Cum all over my fucking- ahhh, yes, fuck."

He shoots hot loads into you as you clench around him, milking more out of him. He doesn't stop, continuing to fuck you until every last bit of his seed has marked you. Even after he's done, he gets a few more strokes in before he pulls out, showing the combination of you and him leaking out of your pussy. He pushes you onto the floor and presents his dick in front of him.

"Clean it."

You obey, wrapping your mouth on his cock and licking away the filth that the two of you made. He groans and pulls you off of him.

"You'll get me hard again." He says.

He puts all his clothes back on and hands you your sweater. Your nipples are hard, poking through them now.

"I look forward to your next draft of your review." Crane says calmly, as if what just happened didn't happen.

"You- um..." you stammer, brushing your fingers through your hair. "You didn't give me any notes."

"I didn't?" He questioned. You shook your head. "Well, stay again after class next session. I'll go over it, personally, with you."

"Oh." You blush. "This wasn't a one time thing?"

"Y/N..." Crane looks at the floor. "I'm your professor."

You felt awkward. Of course it was a one time thing; how could it not be?

But then he looks back up at you.

"You don't want to fail my class, do you?"

[mydear-corinthian]

while you're interviewing

synopsis: giving cillian a head while he's having an online interview.

pairing: cillian murphy x reader / cillian murphy x wife!reader

warnings: SMUT +18, oral sex (m! receiving), blowjob, domcillian, implied sex, reader is horny as fuck

notes - rushed, a bit short <1500 w.c, divider and gif is mine

main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist

It's turned out that your husband has a more complicated schedule than you had imagined, partly because of his notable work as a celebrity. You're very proud of him, especially in light of his most recent success—getting the lead in the movie that everyone is calling the best of the year. Along with receiving positive recognition, which his success has attracted a lot of media attention, that has resulted in a ton of interviews and promotions.

Consequently, your partner's days and nights are occupied with continuous responsibilities. Where you both currently reside, in Dublin, it is currently two in the morning. Even though it's late, Cillian remains involved in his work. His face is softly lit by the laptop screen as he sits in his home office, which is a calm yet busy space. Due to the changes of several time zones, he is preparing for an interview that is taking place at this unusual hour, yet he remains focused throughout.

These late-night interviews are a natural component of his schedule due to the nature of his work. The joy you get from his accomplishments and the commitment to his trade make up for the challenge of adjusting to this fast-paced workplace. His dedication is clear in the conversation as he carefully goes over his notes and collects his thoughts, which is a praise to the ability and hard work he has put into this incredible project. 

Although you were always proud of your lover, there was also a hint of melancholy. You two haven't really bonded with each other in a while. sharing a bed, going on a date, or simply staying home.

Cillian's head lifted up when he heard a soft knock. "Baby, why are you still awake?" he asked.

"Can't sleep."

He gave you a little smile and then tapped his thigh to invite you to sit on it. You approached your partner and took a seat on his right thigh. As he did the same to your hips, you put your arms around his neck to support him.

"Is there something on your mind?" Cillian asked, giving you a soft kiss before laying his eyes back at yours.

Sighing, you looked at the screen in front of you. He was already in the logging-in part of the Zoom call, showing how his interview will start in awhile.

"Nothing.. just tired," you lied.

"Hm? What's actually bothering you right now?"

You didn't answer his question, instead you let your lips crash to his, allowing yourself to taste him. Cillian let out a small oh and smirked, knowing what you meant. He kissed you back, deepening it. You moved your position, now sitting on his lap facing him. Your husband gripped your hips and caressed your bare back when he lifted your shirt a bit.

"Need you, Cillian," you moaned in between kisses as the making out session got more heated. Your arms wrapping his neck, grinding your hips to his clothed bulge. Your breath getting ragged.

You felt a familiar spark flare up inside of you after the kiss, awakening the need you'd been craving. His touch, calming and soft, surrounded you with a warmth that only he can give. You got the comfort you were looking for in his hug, and Cillian's hand was a gentle reminder of your strong relationship.

Suddenly, Cillian pulled the kiss out. A short sigh escaped his lips. "Not now, honey. I still have an interview."

"Can't it wait?" you pleaded making him chuckle.

Before turning off the camera and microphone and getting ready for the Zoom conference, his fingers danced across the keyboard as he entered his log-in information. Your lips met Cillian's soft lips in a brief but sweet kiss that held a hint of melancholy. With a trace of remorse, he said, "I'm sorry, honey, it really can't." 

The both of you heard a voice, assuming it was the interviewer, coming out from his Apple laptop. "Okay, Cillian," the interview called his name, "we'll start the interview now."

He looked at you apologetically. His eyes pleaded and his lips curved into a small sad smile. You lifted yourself off of his lap and walked behind his desk so that the interviewer won't see you once Cillian turns on his camera.

Cillian then clicked the camera button, turning it on and his microphone as well. He expected you to leave his office and not you crawling below his desk.

He looked at you below, giving you a gaze of what the hell are you doing? but you didn't stop, instead you chuckled.

"So, Cillian! How are you doing?" the interviewer's voice echoed all over the silent walls of his home office.

"Yeah, everything is great. It's actually three in the morning here."

"Oh! I think your family is asleep now, especially your wife, yeah?"

"My wife definitely is." he laughed a little, looking down at his pants as you slowly unzip them.

"So, tell us about Oppenheimer!"

The tension between you increased as your fingers neatly removed his zipper, and the hope in the air practically sparked. His Calvin Klein briefs' fabric pulled against the hardness below, revealing his erect, pulsating length. You gently touched him, feeling the heat escape through the thin material, and then you shot him a playful glance that caused his breath to hitch.

You slid his boxers down slowly, almost like a tortue to him, revealing his entire erect cock. Your mouth started to moisten at the sight, and you found yourself wanting to lean in closer, your breath hot against his skin. He let out a deep, low moan that echoed across the still room as your thumb slowly moved around the swollen tip. There, a bead of pre-cum accrued that provided resisting impossible.

Cillian grabbed a fist full of your hair, letting you take his whole length; his tip hitting at the back of your throat. He let out a groan but tried to cover it with a cough, not letting the interviewer know what was actually happening.

Cillian took hold of your hair with his fist, allowing you to take his entire length, his tip brushing the back of your throat. He groaned, trying to hide it under a cough to keep the interviewer from realizing what was going on. Every time he gave you a thrust, his breath was labored. He tried not to look suspicious at all, but for a few seconds his eyes were forcibly shut.

"Mmp—!" you moaned at his cock, taking him again and again and again. His grip was getting harsher and harsher but it doesn't hurt you. Your left hand gripped his right thigh, allowing yourself to balance while your other hand massaged his balls—which he absolutely loves.

His silent airy moans are starting to hear not so silent anymore. His other arm gripped his swivel chair tightly.

"Cillian, are you okay?" the interviewer asked.

"A-actually, I think I'm not feeling that well, Jimmy," he lied, looking at his webcam. "Can we perhaps—Jesus— reschedule this meeting?"

You bobbed even faster, letting his cock hit your throat, your cheek, everything inside your mouth.

"Yeah, sure. No problemo! We'll just send you an email later. Get well soon, Cillian!" and that's the last voice that echoed through the laptop before you heard him closing it.

Cillian relaxed his back and continued to gasp and whimper at the way you were feeding him. He was having an incredible amount of pleasure, and he most certainly needed this after all the hectic job he had to accomplish. He smiled and said,

"Fuck— you really can't wait don't you?" he was close, because you felt him twitch inside of you. He let out a loud groan as you swallowed him completely once more.

"Oh honey, that's it—yes."

He leaned in closer and said, "Gonna cum inside your mouth, honey. Take it all, okay?"

It took him a couple more thrusts until he came. Inside your mouth, a white, creamy, and salty liquid spurted out of his cock. You licked your lips clean after swallowing it all, got to your feet in front of him, and then sat back down on his lap.

"Looks like I need to reward my wife, hm? Let's go to our room." Cillian said.

"Oh finally!" you sighed in amusement.