#Cillian Murphy Characters

[cherrycranes]

Claustrophobia (Edward Dillinger Jr. x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Edward Dillinger Jr x female reader Summary: What's worse than getting stuck in an elevator when you're claustrophobic? Being stuck in an elevator with your hot boss/work crush when you're claustrophobic! Word count: 5,141 Contents: Slight age gap (Reader is in her 20's, Edward is in his early 30's), only one use of Y/N, reader is claustrophobic, reader has a panic attack, virgin reader, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, pulling out, technically public sex. Edward asks for consent a lot. Author's notes: This is a collab with my dear @lauuren! She wrote the intro and the oral sex scene and I am in awe at her talent. I desperately want to spread the "stan Edward Dillinger Jr" agenda. I will not stop. There's a character playlist I made about him at the end of this fic. Please stan Edward Dillinger Jr, Lauren and I are all alone in this boat.

A quiet ding could be heard throughout an empty modern hallway of the ENCOM building, announcing that the elevator had just arrived at your floor. After both automatic doors had slid open, and a quiet sigh escaped your lips, your steps made their way inside the confined space of the machine.

Not only a second after, a loud confident stride joined you inside, just before the doors closed. You already knew who the person was just by the sound of his fine leather boots on the floor, and by his signature scent you, oh, so adored.

Your boss, Ed, or rather Mister Dillinger, as you usually called him, stood right next to you, fixing his navy bow-tie. You caught a glimpse of him with your peripheral vision and you felt your cheeks burning with heat. And not just them. The shameless sensation reached your pussy at record speed and you could feel the fabric of your crimson-colored panties getting slightly damp. Something that had been happening ever since you started working for him.

It was his nicely ironed dark blue suit, his silky-smooth vest, his glasses, or maybe the way he stood there paying attention to the screen of his iPad - it all sent shivers to all the right places. The places you never even knew you could feel something at.

“Evening, sir.” You chirped, hoping to catch his attention.

His head turned upwards from the tablet, his eyes finding your own. He fixed the glasses on the bridge of his nose with his fingers, and you were fighting all your inner demons to not stare at them.

“Ah, Y/N…” His sentence was interrupted by a weird rambling and a thud. The lights of the elevator flickered a few times, and the machine stopped.

You always felt kind of nauseous every time you stepped into that elevator. All your muscles tensed and your breathing got slightly shallow until you got off. But being stuck in such a horrible and confined space really did not help your claustrophobia. Quite the opposite… You felt panic starting to flood your mind, darkening it with fear.

“Oh, my God.” A last breath of tranquility escaped your lips when everything above and below you stopped dead on its tracks. And the brief flicker of the lights prevented it from coming back to you.

Your desperate fingers broke through a tremor and frantically pressed every button that looked like an emergency one. And then, when the elevator doors did not magically open, you rushed to double-press every single button to no avail. 

“Shit!” You exhaled, giving up and giving in into your worst fear. The metal around you sizzled and constricted like it burnt, your vision blurred and the pressure in your stomach made you feel so hollow yet so heavy. The tortuous beating of your heart took over your ears so loudly, you didn't catch your boss' voice. It wasn't until his hand touched your shoulder, that you could make out the words.

“Hey... Relax.... Relax.” Edward repeated, his voice so unfazed, like it wasn't his first time stuck in there. You didn't turn to face him, it would have mortified you twice as much. So you pressed your forehead against the wall, finding it colder than expected.

“Calm down, people will come for us. It won't take long, I promise... Just calm down, breathe with me…”

It was all a big, draining whirlwind you were trapped in, but somehow you found the will in you to follow him. Seven seconds of air filling your lungs, five of holding it there and six of exhaling it. Repeated several times until your feet were back on the ground and your forehead felt the wall warming up to your touch. 

“That's it... It's ok…” Edward repeated, his hand very gently touched your upper arm and slowly pulled you away from the useless button board and towards his chest. He must have set his Ipad down on the elevator floor during your panic, because he carefully guided you with both hands towards the center. You calmed down a little more, putting all your focus on the right amount of seconds for each breathing phase. With all the gentleness he had, he started to sit you both down, with you between his legs, your back against his chest and your ear close to his lips.

“Easy… That’s good… You’re ok… You’re going to be ok…” He kept soothing you, his hands rubbing comforting circles over your arms. Slowly but surely, it had an effect on you. And then it finally hit you: you had just had a panic attack. IN FRONT OF YOUR BOSS/WORK CRUSH. And while you dreaded thinking about it, you wished the elevator would just plummet down the building. 

“You know, this has happened to me two times before… The longest I’ve been here is about 15 minutes… They always notice if there’s something wrong with the elevators.” Edward’s warm voice snapped you out of your thoughts. At least a rescue was ensured. But that still didn’t fix your embarrassment… Oh, God must really like seeing you suffer. What must Mister Dillinger think of you now? He must think you’re pathetic and stupid and…

“So don’t worry, baby…. I’m here with you…” Baby… BABY. You almost didn’t believe it. And you would have told yourself it was an auditory illusion but then, his hand slowly started to move down your arms. His lips and stubble caressed your ear, giving you a good shiver. Edward kept whispering soft praises the more you relaxed and you felt in heaven.

“Good girl.” He murmured, and your cheeks burned. The cheeky little warmth your pussy always felt when he was near returned with renewed intensity now that you were in his arms, and now that you were “baby” and “good girl”. 

His left hand stopped tracing circles on your arm and traveled to your chest, tenderly lazing over the side of your breast. Not kneading it or even attempting to cup it, just lingering there in a silent plea for permission.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop…” His voice was soft against your ear, his hands completely stayed still over your beautiful body, expectant for a cue or a full on red light. You had found that his touch had a soothing effect on you. There was something so calming about his big hands, his warmth and, on top of all things, his understanding nature.

“Don’t stop…” More than a cue, this was a soft little plea. You needed to feel him all over you, his warmth washing away the fear and the constriction. 

On command, his hand on your breast kneaded the flesh so softly over your bra until he found your nipple, making you moan quietly.

“That’s it… Just relax… Let me take care of you…” His voice was huskier now. The combination of his stubble and his breath on your ear was a sensory experience drawn out straight from your fantasies. You obeyed, the last bits of tension in your body fading away the more he fondled your now hardened nipple.

As for Edward, he swallowed thickly, his cock was growing uncomfortably harder in his tight pants. A desperate need started to tug on his reason and he swiftly moved onto the next step when he noted your new calmness and your quiet moans. 

“Is this ok?” He whispered again, making your eyelashes flutter and your lips part when the hand that wasn’t massaging your breast reverently and very carefully traveled down your abdomen. You nodded and he smiled ever so slightly before taking in the shape of your thigh with his palm.

That morning when you picked out your outfit, you decided against a pair of pants for not matching with your new shoes, and God, you were glad you had. Because instead, you chose to wear a cute black skirt and stockings that Edward now palmed in admiration. 

“I’ve never told you… But you always look so stunning…” He confessed to the skin of your neck before planting a soft kiss there, getting a reaction out of your needier and needier body. Your underwear felt damp and your lower abdomen felt hotter, lonelier.

As if he had detected it, Edward rode up your skirt slowly at first, in his usual search for permission. When you nodded again, he continued, exposing the sheer fabric of your stockings and then, a view that made him smile, your crimson panties with a flirty lace trim. 

“Naughty little girl.” Edward couldn't contain himself. Your choice of underwear had been unintentional. All your panties that would have been more suitable for a black skirt were in the laundry and your choices were limited. But you pretended it was a deliberate seduction tactic. Perhaps part of a plan to cross your legs in front of him, or bend down to pick up something at the office so he could have an ‘accidental’ little peek. Whichever way, he was a fan. His thick fingers lowered them well enough to see your little bush, something that got a guttural sound out of him.

“Just how I like them.” He growled. His fingers attracted to your heat like a magnet to metal. He ran two digits across your needy cunt, rewarding you for being so wet for him with a lustful kiss. You moaned softly once more, your eyes closed as you let the feeling sink in. You spread your legs a bit further, only hearing his breaths, the smacking of your lips together and, of course, the sounds of your slick arousal.

"God... Hear that? Hear how wet you are? Is that all for me, babe?" He gently broke the kiss and his whisper teased the skin of your earlobe along with his stubble. His fingers slowly buried themselves into your tight cunt, this time spreading you open with a scissoring motion. His index and middle fingers stretched you once experimentally, making you gasp and whine and making him groan in a pleasant surprise.

"Oh, don't tell me you're still a virgin, baby? A pretty girl like you?" He teased, half in disbelief, half in arrogance. He was going to be your first then? That knowledge filled him with a greedy, possessive, perhaps a little old-fashioned pride. Nobody had touched you or had you before. You were going to be all his. He smirked like a devil and continued his motions to get you ready for his cock.

You moaned again, lost to the lust and willing to be his, when suddenly, a sound made you clam up and open your eyes widely. Two voices outside the elevator, loudly complaining that the machine was not working.

"Mister Dillinger..." You tried to warn him in a rising panic despite the coup d’état your pussy threw over your brain. Somebody had to be the voice of reason here. Remind you both that you were stuck in the elevator, that the people you just heard could hear you. And even if they didn’t,  they would still try to get the doors to slide open. And if they did, they would discover you two were fucking in there. The embarrassment made your cheeks even redder. Or maybe it was the feeling of his fingers that kept massaging your walls. It got hard to think, your cunt only got wetter and your mind cloudier. You moaned so softly, so needily, eliciting another groan from him.

"Ed. Just call me Ed." He completely ignored the voices and whispered into your neck, placing soft kisses that led him lower and lower. His hand left your heat for a moment, making you whine in protest.

"Ed..." You called out for him. Your anxiety at being caught dissolved in your dampness. The absence of his thick fingers in you pushing you over the edge of carefulness. You've wanted him for so long, your entire body begged for his touch. 

A third voice from the outside almost pulled you out of this renewed state. But as soon as you heard the relief in that voice, telling the other two about the other elevator that still worked, you relaxed. All voices disappeared away and all you could hear now was the heavy breathing of Ed, who never stopped kissing your neck and touching you. It was the first time in your life you were glad that people who could have rescued you didn’t even notice you were there. 

“That’s it, pretty girl… It’s ok.” Ed placed another slow, rewarding kiss on your lips, and you were lost on him again. Finally, there was no tension left that could block your true wants.

He noticed that right away. His hands that roamed slowly over your breasts and waist started to travel to your hips. 

“Are you ready?” You were not sure what he meant exactly, but you were ready for anything.

“Yes.” You replied and he wasted no time. He groaned softly as he manhandled you in a 180 turn, pinning you down against the elevator floor with your knees up.

"These have to go. You're so pretty to be all covered up." Edward charmed you while he fully took off your crimson panties, tossing them aside. Once they were off, he delighted in the sight of your wet cunt. So pretty and needy. It made his cock twitch in his pants and his tongue lick his lips. A low growl of approval, more than that, rumbled in his throat.

Your arousal successfully lured him in. Each hand took hold of one of your thighs to spread you open, his grip on the soft flesh firm but careful. He didn't want to scare you, he wanted you to feel revered and beautiful. Confident and determined. He wanted you to want him as much as he wanted you. So he looked into your eyes, his pupils behind his glasses were so dillated it made something in you flutter.

"Tell me what makes you feel good." He whispered, lost in your gaze, before lowering his mouth to your clit.

You quickly tried to figure out what you liked, but since you had never done anything like this before, you didn’t know what you preferred and what not. Of course you touched yourself on the loneliest of nights, however that was completely different.

“I…”

But the single-worded reply was everything you were able to say, before a loud gasp left your lips as his mouth connected with the already sensitive skin of your damp folds. The mere feather-like contact of his lips and stubble against you was enough to throw you off edge. 

Your reaction caused his smirk to be more prominent. He opened his mouth wider as his hot breath tickled you – a prediction of his drool-covered tongue licking a fat stripe down your wet cunt. He started moving it up and down at a slow but teasing pace, wanting to reach and explore every little space and corner of your arousal, wanting to taste and devour all of you. 

“Mmhh…” your quivering voice creating a pleasurable melody for his ears.

The tip of his nose was buried at your clit, right under the bushy cut, pressuring against the receptive spot. Ed was relishing at the fact the touch increased the shivering of your already tensed up muscles, bringing you close to release of the tight knot in your lower stomach.

Adding his lips to the skilled movements of his tongue, he started sucking your clit and folds. Your breathless moans heightened on the frequency and volume. The man was hungrily lapping out on you as if you were a fine five course meal and he was a starved animal. And God, saying he could not get enough was a light word. 

“Ed-” you whined his name. “Uhh, oh God!” 

A groan formed deep down in his chest rambled out of his throat, vibrating at your slick pussy. His hands gripped at the flesh of your hips and thighs tighter, not letting you shift even an inch away from him. Your juices mixed with his drool tasted as if heaven itself landed in his mouth. It was like an addictive drug possessing all his senses.

“Fuck, you taste divine.” he was able to quickly mutter before getting back to eating you out until you would be a trembling mess.

Your hips started bucking and squirming, and he knew you were close. And he couldn't wait for the sweet treat in the form of your orgasm. His tongue kept torturing your throbbing cunt. The heat of the moment and your wetness made his glasses foggy, but your boss did not care. There was no way for him to stop now.

The merciless movements of his mouth continued until the tight knot in your abdomen finally untied as you reached the peak of pure bliss, with your moans following along. He slurped on everything, what came out as if it was the most delicious dessert he had ever eaten. 

"That's it... You're ready for me, baby." Edward whispered. His index and middle fingers traced a sticky line across your pussy, proudly showing just how eager you were for his fat cock. You moaned softly at the touch, more than aware of what you wanted: him.

“Oh God, Ed, please…” You begged ever so softly, guided by the hand by your need. Ed found it so exquisite he didn’t know when his hand reached for your cheek to cup it so tenderly.

“‘Please’ what, baby? Tell me.” His voice was a warm whisper that kept you at ease, a complete contrast to the fuss between your thighs. And he knew it. He reveled in the look in your eyes, in the way your folds clenched the air. Your mere presence had him addicted already, and he still hadn't been inside you. Yet…

“Please… Fuck me…” Embarrassment be damned, you thought, your body begged and cried for him. You wanted him not just inside your thoughts every day, you needed him everywhere he could fit in. 

“Say it again.” He commanded firmly but still with gentleness towards you. He just wanted to hear something so filthy come out of your innocent lips again. His thumb traced a path of adoration on your cheek. His baby blues glimmered like a beacon with the lights of the elevator.

“Please, fuck me…” Another sweet whisper for his ears’ delight. He smiled in a mixture of tenderness and desire. He would not make you wait much longer, it would be torture for the two of you.

“As you wish, babe.” His voice was slightly hoarse already. He never once stopped looking at you as he unzipped his black pants and lowered them just enough. He would have wished he could undress completely. Have your soft skin bare against him so every inch of his being could memorize the feeling of you. But your circumstances were not ideal. He still held out hope for a rescue. And if the elevator doors slid open mid-fuck for a bunch of concerned ENCOM employees to see, he would at least appreciate to still be mostly clothed.

Lucky for you, the elevator was still stuck, and Ed was free to release his hard cock from the confines of his dark blue Calvin Kleins. 

He let out a hoarse sigh, and you gasped softly. You had seen penises before (your reaction to seeing his made you feel like a sheltered Victorian girl), but you had never seen one that was this close and erect for you. 

You swallowed thickly at the sight. He was not pornographically big, but ‘small’ was not a term you would use to describe it. It was a perfectly fine cock with a pink mushroom tip that would have made you smile had you not been a little nervous. You could barely tell from the confines of his underwear, but it seemed like he was well groomed down there. He did look like he took good care of himself in general. This only made you a little self conscious as you remembered that your own little bush was on display. Not that he seemed to mind. You had to remind yourself that he had just gotten back from gladly eating you out.

With an immediate drive, Ed used the remains of your wetness on his fingers to lube himself up as much as he could, just so he could give his cock a few pumps that made his eyes close for a moment and his eyebrows furrow. He was so ready for you it could drive him insane. And you, despite the nerves, could feel the neediest parts of your mind and body luring him in.

It worked. Ed crawled towards you, his body caging you in. You thanked the architects and designers of this elevator for making it wide enough for missionary. Had it not been you would have probably had to lose your virginity against the wall. Or, if Edward wanted to be nice and considerate to you, in an awkward kneeling missionary position that, you figured, would work better on a bed. Fuck his knees, he would have done it even if it hurt. But lucky for his 30-something-year-old patellae and ligaments, this elevator had space. God bless ENCOM.

“It's ok… Relax and tell me if you ever want to stop.” He whispered. Once again, his eyes focused on yours, on your face. Studying every micro-expression in search for any hesitation, discomfort or a single trace of your previous panic. He only found understandable nervousness and also a gleam of desire that made him warmer. Gone was his usual cockiness for the time being. He was going to be the gentlest man in the world for you.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he shifted closer towards you. A sweet gasp resonated when you felt the tip of his cock poking at your slick entrance. You nodded, and your hands reached up to feel his back. He groaned in pleasure when he started to push inside you, finding his brand new addiction.

“Fuck… You're so tight.” He uttered, completely taken by the feeling of you. His thick eyelashes fluttered and he licked his lower lip in automatic. The tip easily slided in. 

You whimpered and furrowed your brow, it was hurting much less than what you had always expected, but it was still something to get used to. 

He buried himself to the hilt, groaning and panting. The veins of his cock pumping viciously, making it twitch a little. To relax you, he took your mouth in a gentle kiss, nothing too demanding to balance out the arduous work he made your small pussy do. You moaned gently into his mouth, your hands felt him up over his vest. On your own, you put more passion into the kiss, and when your cunt throbbed around him and he was able to slide a little bit more inside you, he knew you were ready.

Carefully, he thrusted in and you moaned. He moved with you, setting up a nice and easy rhythm that was just perfect for you. It all felt so slick, so hot. He was fully lost. Pride swelling up his chest at the fact that he had just popped your cherry, trying to interfere with the gentleman he was being with you. It could be so easy to let go of his sweetness. It was not every day when he had sex with somebody as innocent as you. In fact, it was the first time he was with somebody inexperienced. But no, he was going to remain gentle. There would be other occasions for the roughness.

Soon enough, the elevator filled with your moans and his low grunts, along with the sounds of your bodies colliding. He was in heaven. Your body, your voice, your lips, your tightness. You were an obsession that was going to haunt him and his dreams for evermore. 

And you, so needy and delicious, were almost incredulous to the fact that you were living out your recurring daydream scenario. All the nights you felt desire taking over you would stroke your clit and imagine your fingers belonged to your unreachable boss. Daring to dream that this man would ever do that to you. You moaned again when his actual fingers snaked between your thrusting bodies to draw sweet circles around your clit. Reminding you that this was very much real.

“That’s good. You’re doing so good.” He praised with his voice husky, and your pussy throbbed around him. He took it as a sign, going a little faster on you. With both hips and fingers.

He groaned wholeheartedly, sending electricity through you with the circles on your clit. Your pussy clenched around him like a vice, and it was driving him absolutely insane.

“God, baby. I’m gonna fill you up so good.” He whispered absentmindedly, reason unavailable from his pleasure and the feeling of you. In his remaining thoughts, he saw a near future where you walked the ENCOM halls with his cum dripping down your inner thighs. But you, much more aware of the consequences since they would mostly affect you, snapped out of your own haze.

"Wait... Fill?" You asked. Your old friend Anxiety paying you a little visit once more.

"Oh… Are you on birth control?" Ed managed to formulate once he took notice that his fantasies couldn’t always coexist with reality. His labored breath seeped through each syllable. His hips never once stopped moving. A ticking time bomb.

"No..." You admitted. Worry clawing its way out of your arousal-clouded mind. But even then, your cunt had a life of its own. Throbbing all around him in an act of rebellion, drawing a moan out of you and a low groan out of Ed. You saw the pale blue of his iris roll back a little in between fluttering eyelashes before he fought back for control over himself.

"Fuck... Can't risk it... I'm pulling out, ok?" He struggled to talk as his slow thrusts faltered a little. All he needed now was your consent to pound you into the elevator floor and pull out before it was too late. God help him.

You nodded eagerly, holding onto his back and the fabric of his vest. Once he saw you, he went ruthless with you. 

“Shit… Shit!” He moaned, his pace grew desperately faster. It was a race to see what would come faster: a rescue, or him.

Your moans became mantras with Ed’s faster pace. Your toes started to curl inside your shoes and your nails wished they were sinking on his skin and not his clothes. That was the last coherent thought you had for the time being as his cock hit your sweet spot right in the middle. You howled, Ed got the hint. He managed to hold your hip with one hand to keep you there, trapped between the strong pumps and the waves of pleasure this sent through you.

“Ed!” You cried out, unable to handle this for much longer. He huffed in response, attacking your cunt with another series of deep thrusts that made you whine.

“That’s it, baby. Cum for me.” His word was your command, it seemed. Fact is, you didn’t need much longer to be sent over the edge. Your back arched, making your clothed breasts press against his chest, to which he moaned. The last sound you heard before your scream of pleasure. 

Your wet, throbbing, creamy pussy sent the biggest, most wanted orgasm it could have ever given you, all over your nervous system. Making you milk his cock in desperation. He didn’t last a few more seconds upon feeling that all around him.

He thrusted one last, faltering time before painfully detaching himself from your addictive cunt. Quickly, he grabbed the first thing he found: your crimson panties, and clutched them around the head of his penis, whimpering when he used them to contain his spurting cum and not make a mess out of this elevator, or worse, of you. 

You watched the scene unfold. Ed opened his mouth in what it seemed like the most pleasurable yawn of his life and shut his beautiful eyes when he came. His jaw trembled for a moment and he made an attractive sound before the last drop of semen coated your panties. He panted there for a moment, holding his covered cock until he had the stamina to wipe off his tip, half-assedly fold your panties, leave them on the elevator floor and, finally, rest himself on top of you, fully satisfied.

You struggled to catch your breath with the remainder of his weight on you. You could have stayed right there, committing the post orgasmic feeling to memory so you always carried it with you. But a flicker of the elevator lights and a sudden movement dragged you out of the little death and sat you both up. For a moment you feared the worst case scenario.

“What’s-” You didn’t even formulate your question properly when the familiar movement of an elevator going up as if nothing had happened made your already racing heart jump. 

“Oh, shit… It’s working again!…” Edward deciphered with relief, pointing towards the digital numbers on the elevator screen that counted the floor numbers. In your own relief and your gratefulness your eyes grew wide when you remembered the state you were both in.

“Shit!” You whispered, gently pushing him off of you in desperation to get proper again. He got the hint immediately and stood up with the help of the elevator wall. The hand that had been inside you took yours and he lifted you back on your feet.

It all became a blur of clothes being straightened up; thigh high socks, blouse, his zipper. When you looked around for your panties, you only saw him shamelessly shoving something crimson down his pocket and looking at you with a cocky grin.

"Can't let you go out there with filthy panties, babe." Edward explained so nonchalantly he almost convinced you. But you didn't have time to disagree and protest as the elevator stopped on the floor you had initially wanted to go to, and so, before the doors slid open, you unrolled your skirt in a swift motion and prayed that nobody would notice.

"See you." The cocky bastard picked his IPad from the floor and stepped out into the hallway, fixing his glasses before turning to look back at you. It was then, with his vision clear again, he noticed something in the upper back corner of the elevator that had been there all along, too hidden for lustful eyes that only looked into each other and never around: a security camera pointing towards the middle of the metallic floor.

As promised, here is the Ed Dillinger Jr playlist. It has a LOT of Daft Punk cause I headcanon that he's a big fan. Plus some songs I think fit him lyrically or just for the vibes.

[hagarsays]

New set pic of Cillian filming the Peaky movie

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Masterlist (Cillianmesoftlyyy)

Last updated: 11/19/24

As requested, here yah go my lovelies! Series are indented separately to keep them together. One-shot stories are listed in numbered format. Requested fics have a "⭐️"

Neil Lewis (Watching the Detectives 2007):

The Gumshoe is a Girl's Best Friend (fluff)

Horror Movies (smut) Horror Movies Pt 1 Horror Movies Pt2

As You Wish (smut) As You Wish Pt 1 As You Wish Pt 2 ⭐️

Tommy Shelby (Peaky Blinders):

In Love, in War (smut): In Love, in War Pt 1 In Love, in War Pt 2 In Love, in War Pt 3 In Love, in War Pt 4 In Love, in War Pt 5

At the Cabaret: At the Cabaret Pt 1 At the Cabaret Pt 2 At the Cabaret Pt 3 At the Cabaret Pt 4 At the Cabaret Pt 5

Take It on the Run (smut): Take It on the Run Take It on the Run Pt 2

Cillian Murphy:

Under the Weather (fluff)

Method Acting (smut)

So New (fluff)

Like a Good Neighbor... (smut)

Cut the Shit-delusion, Sweetheart (fluff)

Nerves (smut) ⭐️

Dr. Jonathan Crane (Batman Trilogy):

The Experiment (smut + my first work) The Experiment Pt 1 The Experiment Pt 2 The Experiment Pt 3

I Can Fix That... (smut) I Can Fix That Pt 1 I Can Fix That Pt 2 I Can Fix That Pt 3 I Can Fix That Pt 4

Moth to a Flame (smut) Moth to a Flame Pt 1

Jonathan Breech (On the Edge 2001):

The Ward (smut) The Ward Pt 1 The Ward Pt 2 The Ward Pt 3

Tom (The Party 2017):

Sweet Revenge (smut)

Agent Lenny Miller (Anna 2019):

How About It, Agent Miller? (smut)

William Killick (The Edge of Love 2009):

What I Want... (smut) What I Want... What I Want... Pt 2 ⭐️

Matthew Joy (In the Heart of the Sea 2015):

Wary Sailor (smut) Wary Sailor Pt. 1 Wary Sailor Pt. 2 Wary Sailor Pt. 3 Wary Sailor Pt. 4 Wary Sailor Pt. 5

The Castaway (fluff/smut) The Castaway Pt. 1 ⭐️

Mike Kiernan (Broken 2012):

Academic Validation (fluff)

Raymond Leon (In Time 2011)

Do You Know How to Bend? (smut)

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

KINKTOBER 2024 - CILLIAN MURPHY EDITION

Hello! My 2024 Kinktober will include a range of filthy kinks. Every Monday and Wednesday will be a AU themed story to really challenge myself.

If you’re familiar with my work, none of these stories will be considered as healthy. For safe marking, all works will be either noncon/dubcon.

Comments and reblogs please are highly appreciated <3

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 1ST - Jackson Rippner + Blood

Red Is The Colour Of Jackson returns home covered in other men’s blood. He’s too impatient to shower first.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 2ND - Emmett in Red Riding Hood AU

All The Better You must deal with the consequences after leading the wolf into your grandmother’s cottage.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 3RD - Neil Lewis + Bondage

His Perfect Little Star When Neil's plan to win you back failed, he improvised to extreme measures to remind you who you belong to.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 4TH - Jonathan Crane + Waxplay

Paint Your Skin You fall into Scarecrow's hands and are forced to play along with his games.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 5TH - Tommy Shelby + Shoe Kink

Squeaky Clean You cost Tommy a promising deal. He can think of a thousand ways to make you pay, so you'll start by dropping to his feet.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 6TH - Cillian Murphy in Professor AU

I Won’t Tell If You Won’t You're Professor Murphy's star student and play on his obvious obsession with you. But when he eavesdrops on a secret of yours, he has to mark you as his.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 7TH - Raymond Leon + Hate Fuck

Hate How Good You Feel After months of tracking his most stressful case, Raymond can't resist but to fuck you before he takes you in.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 8TH - Robert Fichser + Mirror Sex

Look At You Robert likes to have you look at your-filthy-self whenever he takes you.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 9TH - Mathew Joy in Little Mermaid AU!

Poor Unfortunate Soul You're fascinated by the human world and fall in love with a sailor from afar. When you save him, you're desperate to be united with him. A sea witch offers a proposition too good for your fairytale ending. If only you listened to how cruel the human world could be.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 10TH - William Killick + Cunnilingus

Watching Eyes William doesn’t like your ex, he secretly wants you to put on a show for him.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 11TH - Robert Capa + Marking

Ignited You ignite Robert’s jealousy and he has to remind you that you’re still his.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 12TH - Jonathan Breech + Sex Tape

Smile For The Camera Baby You lose a bet with Jonathan. He has to record the experience to ensure it'll happen again.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 13TH - Tommy Shelby in Regency AU

Warmth The Queen is not spared by the King's cruel nature. However she does get to feel his warmth.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 14TH - Jonathan Crane + Pet Play

Scaredy Cat You are Catwoman, you’ve heard word of Scarecrow’s fear toxin and want it for yourself. However he had already anticipated this and desired a kitten of his own.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 15TH - Jim (TDS) + Caught Masterbating

Don’t Let Me Stop You You babysit Jim's kids, he happens to catch you going down on yourself in his living room.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 16TH - Jackson Rippner in Mr and Mrs Smith AU

Mr And Mrs Smith Rippner You live a double life, but you're willing to give it all up to devote yourself to your husband. With one final mission, you learn that your marriage is based on a lie.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 17TH - Tom Buckley + Mind Control

The Eyes Talk Tom is just convinced that you want to fuck him as badly as he wants to fuck you.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 18TH - Lenny Miller + Body Worship

Home Sweet Home Lenny is skeptical over pursuing his neighbour, however that all changes when he drunkenly breaks into your apartment.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 19TH - Emmett + Spit

Thristy? You're exhausted and Emmett just won't stop. He notices that you're thristy.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 20TH - Cillian!Victor von Doom in Marvel AU

Electric Storm Victor has great plans for you, that's why you're locked up in his home in Lavertia.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 21ST - Darren + 69

Me and You Forever Right as you're about to leave to start your new beginning, Pig has come to reunite with his Runt.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 22ND - Tom + Overstimulation

Pick The Latter You're given an ultimatum after Tom accuses you of cheating, be fucked endlessly or be left on the edge. You should have picked the latter.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 23RD - Jonathan Crane in Hogwarts AU

Terror Animus There is no one that you despise more than the arrogant Ravenclaw know-it-all who goes by the name Jonathan Crane. But his fascination with you is more dangerous than it seems.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 24TH - Tommy Shelby + Outdoor Sex

As Fast As You Can Your husband likes to play games to your marriage exciting. When you oppose against his wants, he thinks a game of predator and prey can soothe your dispute.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 25TH - Martin + Spanking

Put A Wife Back In Her Place When Martin’s attempt to win your heart back with a nostalgic trip on a secluded Scottish island fails, he has one last resort to remind you who’s wife you are.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 26TH - Mike Kieran + Somnophilia

Ignorance Was Bliss Mike makes love to you when you're dead asleep, because that's the only time you'll love him.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 27TH - Raymond Leon in ABO AU

My Little Omega You go into heat early and your Alpha is forced to come home to relieve you.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 28TH - Jim (28DL) + Dumbification

Dead In The Head You put yourself into a close call, Jim saves you and wonders how dumb you really are.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 29TH - Shivering Solider + Facial

Please Your Husband Your husband returns home distant, distraught and troubled. He questions your loyalty to him.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 30TH - Robert Fischer in Victorian Era AU

In Sickness & In Health You visit your sister who’s health is dropping, you find out a sickening truth from her husband.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 31ST - Jonathan Crane & Jackson Rippner + Double Penetration

What's Yours Is Mine In college, the twin brothers shared everything and everyone. Until Jackson took it too far and drove Jonathan away. Years later, Jackson shows up with an apology gift, and what's a better gift than you?

[apollosdaydreams]

apollosdaydreams’s masterlist 

Request Guidelines 

Who I Write For

 (Updated 7/17/24) 

Formula 1:

Max Verstappen- 

Promise, In My Heart

Im Sorry I Wasn't Better

Ocean (Incorrect quotes)

Sixteen (Incorrect quotes)

Lando Norris-

Let Me In

Queen (Incorrect quotes)

The After, After, Party

Mirror 

Cringe 

100% Off

Two In The Morning!!

Blurry 

Charles Leclerc-

Sleeping Patterns (Incorrect quotes) 

Alphabet (Incorrect quotes)

Last Night ft. Max Verstappen (Incorrect quotes)

Coping Mechanism (Incorrect quotes)

Finally 

Pierre Gasly-

Bro- (Incorrect quotes)

Math

Lewis Hamilton 

Dinosouar 

Other:

Jacob Elordi 

Cuddler?

Felix Catton

Power Outage 

Barry Keoghan 

By Your - Bed? 

Cillian Murphy/ Characters:

Sexting 

Thomas Shelby:

Money (Incorrect quotes)

MCU Actors:

Chris Evans/ Characters-

Cooties ft Scott Evans (Fluff) 

[idksmtms]

willow (Cillian Murphy x Actress!reader) - evermore series

evermore series

A/N: I had an idea up on my masterlist about falling in love with Cillian while filming a movie so I just decided to merge it with this. Also I saw the picture of him and Emily Blunt walking in costume on the set of Oppenheimer and I thunk thoughts. (sidenote: I cannot write a summary to save my life) 

Extra info: I never say the title of the movie you guys are filming in the fic because I didn’t really want to get too detailed about it, but then I thought of the plot of The Delinquent Season the entire time lmao (I just changed random things because I’m a sucker for an age gap). Also, we’re pretending Oppenheimer hasn’t happened yet because it works for the story. 

Edit: I feel like the ending sucks but I’m too tired to change it. Sorry. 

Summary: When you met Cillian Murphy on set, you were already a fan. When you left, you were so much more…

Word count: 9,772  (oh my gosh I went so overboard with this…) 

Trigger Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, age gap, PinV sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, toxic!Cillian, like 0 communication between characters, secret relationship, not proofread but they never are (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: This is written purely for fictional purposes and for the sake of writing. No disrespect is intended to the real people portrayed/concerned in this scenario. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

You met Cillian Murphy for the first time five hours before you kissed him. Despite being cast in the lead female role, you were a rather late addition to the movie. Issues had come up with the actress initially cast and you had gotten a phone call about two months before shooting started to get yourself to the studio to sign contracts and start costume fittings. This was an amazing opportunity, and regardless of the rush, you were excited to have it. You had been in movies before, of course, but this was your first lead role and if you did a good enough job, it could skyrocket your career trajectory. Aside from all the good things it could do for your career, you were simply excited to get to work, and to get to work with such a good cast and filmmaker. 

On top of all of that, you would be working closely alongside the Cillian Murphy. When you were told that he was to be your costar, you had been in shellshock for a moment before pressing an obnoxious kiss to your agent’s cheek. Cillian Murphy was one of those actors that only came around once in a lifetime. He was only in tasteful, and well done projects, playing a variety of the most interesting characters you had ever watched. You had seen Peaky Blinders, Inception, Dunkirk, and though you had no interest in superhero movies, you sat down and watched all three Batman movies just to watch him play a villain. In the few interviews you had done up to now, you had mentioned once or twice that you believed him to be the best actor of your lifetime, someone who was left unrecognised at awards shows but deserved all of them and more (as you walked onto set for the first time, you really hoped he hadn’t seen any of those interviews). So, to say you were a fan before the movie might have been an understatement, but you had worked with other people who you were fans of before, and Tom Glynn-Carney only had nice things to say about you afterward; you could be professional and a fan. 

You had been put up in a hotel the night before you were to be driven to the studio lot, your new home for however long you were going to be filming there, and in the morning a polite chauffeur arrived in a blacked out car to take you there. You felt a little giddy during the drive, as you always did before starting a new project. You hadn’t learnt the rhythms of the set yet, the director’s process, whether it would be a rush of technical work or a more relaxed set. You hadn’t worked with most of the other actors, you didn’t know how they approached the job, whether they were welcoming and friendly or preferred to focus on the job then return to solitude. It was all the unknowns that made your stomach feel swoopy, but you had come to like the feeling, viewed it as a challenge, the beginnings of an investigation to learn about your job and home for the rest of the duration of the project. 

You were deposited into the custody of one of the many assistants running around, and hurriedly walked to your trailer with a warning that you would only have five minutes to put your things down, change into your costume, possibly have a sip of water, before you would be taken to hair and makeup and given your costume. You smiled brightly at her, nodding and affirming her over and over that you understood. Your first actual job on a movie set had been as an assistant, you knew her job was hard enough without an actor giving her attitude, so you simply followed her. 

The area you walked through was like the other studio lots you had been to before, large buildings that looked like warehouses on the outside but probably held the coolest sets or the most intricate technology on the inside. People drove around in golf carts, some assistants sprinted while yelling down the phone, others hurriedly rolled clothing racks between buildings. You could see someone giving an interview in the distance but they were too far away for you to tell who it was. 

The trailer you were led to was in a wide space filled with other trailers, what you imagined the setup area for a circus looked like. It was bland and white on the outside, your name in big letters surrounded by the shape of a star (some intern clearly had fun with Canva) on the door, and you felt that bubble of excitement all over again. You let the assistant open the door for you, thanking her and shooting her a smile as if inviting her to join in on the excitement you felt before stepping in. It was exactly as you had expected it to be, and that made you happier than anything else. There was a small kitchenette area with cupboards and a minifridge. A counter separated it from a little seating area, couch seats against either wall, before a tiny hallway (which could barely be called a hallway) that had the door to the bathroom on one side and led into a little bedroom (which was just a bed with a little space on the side to walk and nothing else). Your clothes were hung up on a little hook on the bathroom door. 

You deposited your tote bag on the counter and went to the minifridge, pulling out a bottle of water and taking a big gulp. Ice cold and delicious. You scrunched yourself up and did a happy little jump and squeal because you were living the dream, and nothing could be better than that. You messaged your parents and friends that you had arrived, sent pictures and a little video of the trailer, before picking up your costume and getting into the little bedroom to change. 

It was a simple pair of mom jeans, well fitted and slightly higher than your ankle, accompanied with a plain white blouse that had blue detailing around the neck and off the shoulder sleeves that ended just after your elbow, something you could imagine a mum wearing on vacation in Greece. It was comfortable, and you made a little note to ask the costume designer where she got the pieces because it may or may not have been the best pair of jeans you had ever worn. 

You were able to take another big gulp of water before a knock and a voice at the door was telling you to get to hair and makeup. The trailer for hair and makeup was closer to the actual block of buildings you would be filming in, and a little golf cart was ready to take you there. You let out a little laugh as you settled yourself inside, chatting with the driver as he manoeuvred around people and other obstacles to get you there. 

It was quieter in this corner of the studio, more people walking than running, less things being shifted around in a hurry, and you felt a sense of calm in the air (or at least whatever semblance of calm one could get on a movie set). The driver stopped right in front of the doors and you thanked him, laughing at the parting joke he told you about a dog getting loose in the lot. You went up the first two steps for the trailer when the door swung open and you had to jump back to avoid being slammed into the wall with it. Someone came walking out with their head down, turning back to smile at someone else who had wished them goodluck from within the trailer. They paused when they finally noticed you, and you opened your mouth to say something but not a word came out. They smiled with a huff of a chuckle, and all you could think was that he was so much more beautiful in person than what any camera could capture. 

“I hope I didn’t whack you with the door,” he winced apologetically and you just took a deep breath in, shaking your head then breathing out quickly and laughing at yourself. 

“No, no, I just managed to avoid it,” you breathed out, giggling because your stomach was suddenly tingling and you couldn’t quite feel your hands (or maybe you could feel them too much). 

“Oh, good,” he nodded, “would not have been a good way to introduce myself. Cillian Murphy,” he held out his hand, smiling and polite, his eyes piercing through your skin. They were so bright, so blue. You blinked then kept staring into them as you brought your hand gently into his, hoping your grip wasn’t too limp nor too firm. 

“Y/n L/n, it is so nice to meet you. I’m sorry, I’m trying really hard to hide how starstruck I am and I think I’m failing,” you admitted, cheeks suddenly burning. You always talked when you were nervous, which meant you always overshared when you were nervous. But he just laughed, a deep chuckle that made his chest shake and drew your attention to it. He was broader than you, and wearing a cosy looking black sweater that you desperately wanted to push your face against and feel rub against your cheek. The sleeves had been pushed up to his elbows and you could see the round collar of a white t-shirt poking out at the neck. 

“Don’t worry, you were doing a good job so far, until you admitted it anyway,” he did that little huff-laugh again and you pressed a hand to your face, scrunching your eyes shut in shame at the bombardment of thoughts running through your head that made you feel brainless at the same time. 

“Alright, well then,” you laughed, shaking your head and stepping to the side so he could finally walk past you (which you thought he had wanted to do the entire time but was too polite to point out). “I’m sorry for keeping you trapped here, I’ll let you go wherever you need to go Mr. Murphy.” 

“Please, it’s Cillian,” he frowned in that way that said ‘don’t bother with such formality’, and waved the hand in the air that was carrying his script as if to bat the title away. 

“Right, sorry, Cillian,” and you smiled brightly because he was looking at you with those beautiful, beautiful, eyes, and watched him walk down the steps, wave back at you, run a hand through his hair that had been styled messily, and head for the door of the first building. 

When he had disappeared through the door, you slammed the heel of your hand against your forehead until it stung a little and made it feel like your brain had moved around in your head, grumbling “Mr. Murphy? Seriously? You’re an adult too, ya know? You can call people by their first names now, for fuck’s sake.” 

Cillian chewed on his lip as he sat in the foldable chair on set, waiting for everything else to be set up, his co-star to arrive, and the director to start dictating everything. He enjoyed these few minutes before filming, they helped him focus in on the set, get into the mind of his character, evaluate the situation and what would be needed from him. But he had a little extra time today, and he didn’t mind either because his mind was a little distracted. 

He didn’t think he had ever been called ‘Mr. Murphy’ by a co-star, and it made him laugh because it felt a little ridiculous, but it also made him wonder if you were just young or overly respectful. A quick google search told him you were younger, much younger, but didn’t necessarily answer the question. 

Regardless, he liked you, thus far anyway. He liked the way you looked, your hair was pretty and you had kind eyes, and you smelled nice, a soft flowery perfume. And he liked your voice too, a little loud sometimes, a little too quiet others, but it was nice. He hadn’t seen any of your movies, but he was feeling positive about you. Perhaps too positive, but he shut down that thought process with a snap. 

The makeup artist was best friends with the hairdresser and they were both some of the sweetest people you had ever met. They chatted with you the entire time, laughed at your story of embarrassing yourself in front of Cillian, comforted you that he was a nice, easygoing man who wouldn’t hold it against you, and offered you the little snacks they had lying around. Your hair was put into a simple braid, slicked down with pommade to control the flyaways you were plagued with, and the makeup was so natural you would question if you were wearing any if you hadn’t been there while she was rubbing and brushing the products onto your face. 

The costume designer had left some jewellery for you with them, and they helped you clasp the necklace and earrings while you rummaged in your bag for your script. The director had come in while your hair was being done and told you about some of the last-minute changes to the script and the scenes that were being filmed. The ‘first kiss’ scene was going to be filmed at the end of the day instead of in two weeks time because of scheduling complications and the intimacy coordinator would work with you and Cillian during the break at midday while they filmed some of the scenes that didn’t have either of you in them. You had simply nodded, you couldn’t have argued anyway, you didn’t have any authority here even if you had a lead role, and just told him you’d look over your script and mark it out. He had patted you on the shoulder with a smile and hurried back out and you had resisted the urge to press your face into your hands lest you ruin the makeup. 

Of course you were a little annoyed, you had been told to prepare for certain scenes and those were the scenes you had prepared for, but as you took deep breaths and rifled through the many pieces of advice your therapist had given you, you knew this wasn’t a problem to waste your feelings on. They would be lenient because of the last minute change, and if they weren’t originally then they would have to be because you weren’t a magician. A few deep breaths and reading your lines for the first scene you would be filming calmed you down and returned you to the necessary headspace for filming. 

You thanked both the makeup artist and hairdresser, then put in your headphones as you slowly walked toward the set. You needed to be in a sombre mood, needed to feel that apathy and sadness clawing at the edges of your mind. Your character was struggling, her life was falling apart and she felt like she had no solution, only minor escapes during her trysts with Jim, Cillian’s character. You tucked the script under your arm as you got to the set, taking out your earbuds and looking around for the director. You met eyes with Eva Birthistle who smiled widely and waved at you, excusing herself from the assistant director and walking over to you. 

“Hello, hello!” She hugged you tightly and you returned the greeting against her shoulder. 

Eva was the only member of the cast you had gotten to meet before filming began. One of your fittings had been at the same time as hers and you both had gotten to chatting about the movie. She was an absolute sweetheart, someone you could see as a mentor for yourself, and you were glad to see a familiar face on the set other than the director, a bonus that it was one as welcoming as hers. She wrapped her arm over your shoulder and led you over to the cluster of chairs behind the camera where Cillian was already seated, chatting with Andrew Scott. They both looked up and smiled at the two of you as you came and sat down on the remaining two chairs, Eva already engaging them in conversation. 

Looking at all of them sitting there, it hit you for the first time that you were the youngest person here, in both age and experience. These were all people who had done multiple movies in a variety of roles, had been acting by the time you were born, and had made names for themselves. A wave of shyness hit you that you scolded yourself for, your cheeks burning as you sat down and shook hands with Andrew. Thankfully, the wave didn’t last, because Eva and Andrew were chatty, and both ready to include you in the conversation. 

You were glad for this little moment, though it took you out of the headspace of the character you were trying to settle into. These were all people you would be acting closely with, yelling at or kissing on camera for the next few months, and the more comfortable you could get with them the better. 

Andrew was sweet, asking you questions about past jobs, the interview process, how you felt about your character, an endless supply of questions, jokes, and responses that made him an instant friend. Eva chimed in with her own stories and jokes, piling on top of his and making you laugh until your stomach hurt. Cillian was quieter, only speaking when directly spoken to or simply laughing along with the jokes, but his simple presence was enough for you to feel warm in your bones and excited at the prospect of acting with him. He was so nonchalant, so calm and focused but not deterrent or rude. While you seemed to learn a multitude about both Eva and Andrew, you learnt little about Cillian other than that he preferred living in Ireland to anywhere else. 

You thought maybe it was better that you didn’t get to know him too much. It would make the intimate scenes feel less personal, less intense. He genuinely was one of the most beautiful people you had ever seen and it was too easy for an actor to fall prey to the emotions of a scene in real life. You didn’t want to suddenly be sitting there after a sex scene wondering how similar it was to the real deal with him. You were here to do your job and nothing more. 

The conversation had quieted down as different checks were done on set and it was almost time for you all to convene with the director to get filming started. Cillian was reading quietly from his script, a pair of rectangular glasses with rounded edges and dark rims sat on his nose as he rubbed his index finger back and forth across his bottom lip. You watched him for a moment, the soft movement of his lips as he silently formed the words. Then the director was calling you all up and you felt like you were being snapped out of a trance you hadn’t known you had entered in the first place. 

“Alright, you guys have had a small dinner get-together at Jim and Danielle’s house. This is a sort of regular thing, every couple of weeks, maybe once a month, you have this dinner get-together. You’re all sitting at the dining table across from each other, picking at the final pieces of your meals. Jim and Danielle’s children are asleep upstairs and you guys are simply drinking wine and talking.” He walked you all over to the dining table and pointed out the seats, sitting you down first next to Eva before scrapping the idea and having you sit across from her and beside Andrew. Once you had all been assigned your seats, he turned to Eva and Cillian. 

“You two have been married for a long time, you have two children, you’re in a place in your lives where you believe you’re simply secure in your relationship, but if anyone pokes into this it’s fragile, and you’re not sure if you’re secure and still in love, or you’re just going through the motions of a life you have lived for a long time and don’t actually enjoy. You don’t question anything anymore, just go to work, come home, kiss each other, cook dinner, have a little chat before bed, and do it all over again, day by day.” Then he turned to you and Andrew. He looked at you for a moment before reaching out, pausing just before touching you and silently asking if it was alright. You nodded happily, and he gently pulled your braid to rest over one of your shoulders, moved the pendant on your necklace so it rested a little more to the left, and pulled one of your sleeves a little further down so just the edge of your bra strap was exposed. 

“You two have also been married for a while, but things are a little different. You married Chris right after graduating uni, most of your adult life has been married life. Chris is older, was already pushing forty when you guys got married. All of your friends are his age, mostly couple friends, and you’ve always felt pushed into this older, more mature role, that you don’t necessarily feel successful in. You lean on him quite a bit during these situations, deferring to him to answer difficult questions or when talking about your family life. Chris takes this in stride, it’s how it has always been in your relationship, even after years of marriage and a child. Chris is struggling silently recently, he’s easier to anger, feels a little distant, but honestly? You don’t even realise. You don’t know what he’s hiding, you don’t even know that he’s hiding anything. Andrew, the weight of the disease, hiding it from his family, all those private struggles, are always in the back of Chris’s mind, ok?” Both of you nodded and as you went to sit down at the table, he beckoned you and Cillian over to the side saying, “just a moment.” 

Cillian stood next to you with his arms crossed, the black sweater still pushed up to his elbows, and the edge just brushed against the skin of your arm. You shivered and stretched out your neck for a moment, a nervous tick, before returning your eyes to the director speaking in a low voice. 

“Alright, you two are sitting diagonally to each other at the table. You guys take the term ‘friends’ loosely. You’re friends because she’s friends with Danielle and you’re Danielle’s husband. You’re friends because you’re both couples who are friends, but you’ve never spoken to each other without your spouses in the room. Ok? But there is a little bit of intrigue, I guess. You glance at each other, not for long, just barely a look, or you meet eyes while one of you is talking to the group. I don’t want chemistry, I want the possibility of chemistry. Jim is laidback, especially compared to her husband. She’s pretty and young, especially compared to the other people at the table. I don’t want to notice anything between you yet, I want to come back and watch the movie one day in the future and suddenly notice that there’s something there, but too subtle to hint at the future affair. Ok?” You nodded as he spoke, feeling yourself settle into that focus you usually found just before filming, no more smile and twinkle in your eye. “Alright, break a leg,” and he was walking back to the cameras. You turned to Cillian for a second and he nodded at you, those eyes that you would never forget looking over your face for a moment before he headed for his seat at the table. You clenched your jaw for a second, staring at his back as he walked away, before shaking your head and holding it up high on your way to the table. 

“Alright, change costumes, change the lighting, we’re moving to the living room scene for the next couple of hours, I need the kids and Eva there, please. Cillian and Y/n, head down to studio three after changing, the intimacy coordinator is already there, you have a couple of hours to get it together before we start filming. Hop to it everyone!” 

You were happy to be moving on. Though you had been in films that took even longer for singular scenes, you were starting to feel stale in that environment and reverting to the exact same routine over and over. An assistant was quick to come up alongside you and direct you back to hair and makeup. 

“Your costume is already there, and once everything’s been changed, someone else will come get you to take you to studio three,” he told you, not once looking at you but rather at the clipboard in his hand filled with typed and handwritten notes. 

“Ok, thank you,” you nodded, watching the assistant nod goodbye before doubling back to find Cillian to relay the same information. You stood still and watched him for a moment, the glasses tucked into the neck of his sweater as he nodded at the assistant. 

The longer hair looked good on him, you thought. It was going a little grey in the places around his ears but you liked it more that way. His cheekbones cast shadows on his face in the dim light, but you could still see the faint freckles over his nose and the very light smattering he had on his neck. You could even see the freckles on his forearms and it made something warm bloom in your stomach. He looked up and directly at you. Those eyes… those eyes you could spend hours talking about, uncaring that you probably repeated yourself multiple times simply because of how beautiful they were. You smiled, something that could just barely be considered a smile with only the corners of your lips twitching up for barely a moment and your eyes fluttering, before turning away and walking out of the studio. 

You ended up changing in the corner of the hair and makeup trailer, both the women standing with their backs turned to you as they organised pins and palettes and chatted away. Your next costume was a set of oversized mauve-coloured pyjamas that felt a little too thin for your liking. You were a little relieved that it was only the first kissing scene being filmed. You had read the entire script twice over, and you knew about the other scenes to come that required a lot more of you. You had only ever filmed one ‘intimate’ scene before, and even that had only been a rather simple kissing scene. While this scene was definitely more than that, it didn’t feel as big of a leap on the first day simply because it cut off after the kiss. 

Your hair was let down from its braid, mussed up with the hairdresser’s hands and sprayed with hairspray. All your makeup was wiped off before they went to work again. Dabs of eyeshadow in strategic places made your eyes look slightly puffy, like you just woke up from a haggard sleep. Purple under eyes appeared out of nowhere and the faintest bruise was brought to life on your right cheekbone. Little dabs of red on your lips made them look bitten and your nails were chopped roughly to look like you had been chewing on them on and off. Again, you thanked the women and in a simple pair of slippers made your way outside to meet with the assistant responsible for guiding you to studio three. 

It looked like a school drama studio on the inside, with blackout curtains hung all the way around, a black linoleum floor and big wood blocks wrapped in fuzzy material pushed to the edges of the room. You would have taken your shoes and socks off outside the room out of habit if you had known what it looked like on the inside. You smiled to yourself at the thought, before quickly shuffling over to where Cillian stood talking to two women who looked like the opposites of each other. One was dressed in plain white pants, a white blouse tucked neatly into said pants, and a cream coloured cardigan. The other wore a poncho-style dress that fluttered as she moved her arms and was covered in dizzying bohemian patterns. Ten necklaces were draped over her chest, anything from chains to rope, and she had a bandana neatly wrapped to keep her hair out of her face. 

“Hi! I hope I’m not late!” You called, stopping just beside Cillian and smiling at the two women who looked old enough to be your grandmothers (the realisation that you would be making out with someone right in front of them was not a pleasant one). 

“Not at all, we were just talking about boundaries,” Poncho Lady told you warmly, reaching out to shake your hand. The one in the cardigan followed suit, though she was quieter, and you simply smiled brightly at both of them before waiting for instruction.

“Alright, give your scripts here and just stand in front of each other.” Poncho Lady gently pried the script from your hand, took your tote bag from your shoulder, and set them both down on one of the wood blocks Cardigan Lady had pulled over. “Ok, so we’re just here to make sure you don’t feel uncomfortable doing this scene, that no one pushes past any hard boundaries, and to make it seem natural without being unprofessional. Now, before you get to it, is there any place on your body that you would be uncomfortable with your partner touching?” You shook your head and watched Cillian mimic the reaction. 

Awkwardness was cloying at the back of your neck and you desperately wanted to open your mouth and make a stupid comment about how it would just look weird in the movie if he grabbed you between the legs anyway, and it took every ounce of your willpower to keep your mouth shut. “Alright! Let’s get started then! We’ll interrupt when needed.” You turned to fully face Cillian, tilting your head back slowly when you realised how close he was standing. He was still wearing the same jeans and sweater, but the shirt underneath had been changed to a black one, the neck perpetually poking out. 

You dipped your head down again, pressing your hand to your face as you began rambling about how stupid you were and how insane it was for you to be asking him to have an affair with you. Your eyes were squeezed so tight you could see white flashes on the backs of your eyelids. Then, gently, he was interrupting you, voice low as he told you that it was fine, everything was fine, you did nothing wrong, he completely understood, you were tired, emotional after everything. But you kept berating, spitting out words about how he was so good looking and so loyal and you were you, a horrible friend and obviously never a second thought on his mind. And then he was cutting you off, rambling in return about how you’re a beautiful woman, and he can’t lie that he hasn’t thought about you, he’s a man who can appreciate beauty after all. But he could see that you weren’t calming down, could see you slowly folding in on yourself in your panic. Then he was grabbing your hand. Gentle, soft fingers wrapping around your wrist, skin warm and making your own feel tingly. You took a deep breath, your chest visibly shaking, and he brought his other hand to your chin, slowly tilted your head back up to look him in the eye with his fingertips. You blinked, eyes big and wide, and he pressed your hand to his chest, covering it with his own. 

The sweater was so soft under your fingertips, and you desperately wanted it for yourself. His palm was warm on top of yours, warm and firm and unrelenting. You tuned into the sensation of his heart, a wild beating, and your face changed to just hint at concern. 

“Can you feel that?” He asked, voice so low it was almost a whisper. 

“It’s racing,” you breathed out, flexing your fingers against his chest so they caught a bit more of the material of his sweater. 

“Yeah,” he huffed out with a smile, and you moved just a little closer, reaching down to grab his other hand and pressing it to your own chest. His fingertips were a little cold, and your entire body shivered, a small sound leaving your lips. Your fingers were slightly threaded with his, and you pressed his palm to the place where your collar split away and exposed your chest. His hand covered so much of your chest, his pinky and index dipping under the fabric, and was so gentle on its own that you pressed it more firmly against the skin. You wanted his fingerprints imprinted on your skin. He breathed out shakily, almost loudly, and your next breath mimicked it as you closed your eyes. It was so hot in the room.

Both of you stood there feeling each other’s heartbeats for a moment, his head dipped lower so your foreheads almost touched. You were standing so close you could feel each other’s breaths against your lips and the sides of your noses just brushed every so often. He gulped, licking his lips as sweat began to build on the back of his neck and the need to rip the sweater off was soaring in priority in his mind. Your lips just brushed each other, cupid's bows just grazing- 

“Alright, so that’s where you say ‘feel my breast’ and begin guiding his hand under your shirt,” Poncho Lady interjected, looking up from the script in her hands. 

You let go of Cillian’s hand and stepped back quickly. It felt like stepping into an air conditioned room from a hot sunny day outside. Your insides were still warm, and the heat that had been tinging your skin hadn’t completely gone away, but you were more awake, more aware. You licked your lips and gave a small smile that you hoped didn’t betray the sudden embarrassment falling upon you. 

You had been in the scene, you had been lost in it. There had been times before when you were acting and when stopped abruptly felt like you were suddenly reentering your body, like your soul had been extracted for a few moments into a different person and then quickly pulled back and thrust into its original form. But this was a different level. This had been you and not you at the same time. You had been doing those things, had wanted to do those things, but you were also being controlled by something outside yourself, being told to do those things. You quietly excused yourself, saying you had left your water bottle in the hair and makeup trailer and would just quickly run and get it. As you turned back one last time at the door, you watched Cillian run a hand through his hair and smile at Poncho Lady as if nothing had happened since he had walked into the room. 

After the door closed behind you, Cillian happened to glance at your tote bag on the block, and saw your water bottle peaking out. He laughed quietly to himself as he sat down next to it. 

He understood how you were feeling. Intimate scenes were always hard, regardless of how many times an actor has done it. Especially intimate scenes when two people have palpable chemistry. If Poncho Lady hadn’t interrupted, he would have kissed you right then. 

Usually kisses between actors were saved for only when they were filming, but he had been lost in that scene, lost in you. Your eyes, teary and pained and so big, were so authentic that it had been easy to fall into his role, the saviour, the anchor. And as you guys had stepped closer and closer, and his senses were bombarded so much, he had lost himself more and more. Your perfume from earlier had worn off, but your skin smelt so good, like cocoa butter body wash. 

From his line of sight, he could see a sliver of your neck where your hair had fallen behind your shoulder. In the moment a sudden, impulsive thought had flashed in his mind, the intense need to lean down and press his mouth to your neck, to kiss it and let his tongue just poke out and drag over the skin. He could even see it now as he sat and waited for you to return, the place where your neck joined your head and the skin went up to behind your ear. He closed his eyes and let himself linger there. 

Then the scene moved on and so did the little movie in his mind. Your hand in his, so soft and gentle as it settled against his chest. Then his hand in yours, your fingertips slightly sweaty and shaking. For a moment he had considered letting his hand stay limp, wanting to see how you would manage to drag the weight of his arm, but that was another intrusive thought that had to be pushed away. 

The skin on your chest was firm but with how firmly you held his hand against it he could feel the slight give of your flesh. His finger had just barely stroked your collarbone as his hand had rested there and he had wanted to move his hand so much more, to so many other places. Up to your neck to feel the soft skin there, to see if he could make you do that full-body shiver again. Down to your breasts, to the delicate skin stretched over them and then to cup them, to feel the weight of them in his hands. 

Cillian opened his eyes and took your water bottle in his hands, opening it and drinking from it as you came back into the room. You looked directly at him and he smiled at the wide-eyed, almost scandalised, look you gave him. He brought the bottle down and screwed the cap back on, putting it right-way up on the block for you to clearly see. He could see a little flush in your cheeks, and watched you rub the tips of your ears with a mischievous smile. 

Poncho and Cardigan Lady didn’t even notice that you returned without a water bottle. 

The intimacy coordinators only made you rehearse the scene two more times before letting you go. They said you both seemed comfortable enough, that you understood what the other person was and wasn’t comfortable with and you were left to your own devices. You left without a glance back and told an assistant you would be heading back to your trailer. She nodded, telling you that someone would come get you for touch ups on your makeup in an hour, and then you walked the entire way back to the makeshift trailer park. 

You only got about fifteen minutes on your own before someone was knocking on the door. You had washed all the makeup off, reasoning that you could simply head back early on your own and give them the time to do it all over again. As you walked, you tied your hair up in a ponytail, awkwardly opening the door with one hand. Cillian smiled politely up at you, arms crossed over his chest and you simply stared at him with wide eyes, blinking stupidly. 

“Hi,” his smile was jovial and infectious, but the one you offered in return felt forced. You felt so awkward around him now, as if you had violated some trust by being so caught up in the moment. “I thought we could walk around a little bit, get to know each other. I think it helps a little bit when filming roles like these.” You paused, fidgeting with the door handle. 

You had really wanted to take a nap, to reset yourself before filming the scene all over again. But this was such an enticing invitation. And maybe it would help you push past all this awkwardness. Maybe getting to know the other actor was better than not knowing. Maybe feeling connected worked better because you had more to think about, more defence in the moment. 

You nodded, holding up your finger for him to wait a moment so you could put your sneakers on and deposit your slippers in your tote bag. He waited patiently, leaning against the outside of the trailer while thumbing through the script. You hopped down the steps and waited for him to take the first stride before following alongside him, taking a winding path back up to the studios. 

“What do you keep in this all-important tote bag?” He asked, eyes squinting in the sun as he teasingly tugged on one of the straps. 

“Oh, heh, just little on-set essentials. Phone, headphones, little snack,” you paused, “my water bottle,” you added quietly, pursing your lips as you watched his smile widen. 

“That’s quite a nice idea, I should think about getting my own,” he nodded as he spoke, and you just smiled. Both of you walked for a little bit without saying anything, and just as the urge to open your mouth and spew out whatever comment happened to be on the tip of your tongue became almost unbearable, Cillian spoke again. “Have you filmed scenes like this before?” He asked, and you knew there were other questions behind it, insinuations. You felt embarrassed all over again, wrapping your arms around yourself and looking straight ahead to the path you were walking. 

“Um, once. And it wasn’t even this intense. I was working on this show, a supporting role with a romantic storyline. I was working with Tom Glynn-Carney?” He let out a little ‘ah’ nodding his head in recognition, muttering a ‘good lad’. “Yeah, it was really small, like a chaste ‘this guy has been my boyfriend for the past two years and I’m just leaving for work’ kind of kiss.” He laughed at that, genuine and melodic, as he looked at the floor and shook his head before looking up to the sky like he was exasperated with your silliness. “And Tom’s really sweet so it went really well, but this has a lot more expectation on it. It feels like going from the kids' pool to the deep end.” You chose to leave out the fact that his very good looks and insane acting abilities made it that much more difficult. 

Both of you paused for a moment, turning to each other in the late afternoon light. He stared at you and you wrapped your arms around yourself again, suddenly feeling like you were exposed to the elements. Slowly, he reached up and pressed the tip of his index finger to your cheek just under your eye. You stared at him, at his lips as he breathed in, and the moment was so slow, so natural, that for a moment you considered stepping forward and kissing him. But someone hit fast-forward again and he pulled back, holding up his finger to you. 

“I’m sorry, you had an eyelash,” he explained. “Make a wish,” he whispered, holding it close to your lips and you waited a beat, looking into his eyes as you leaned closer and blew the little eyelash away. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. You turned and began walking quickly, a rain of dread suddenly drizzling onto your shoulders. Maybe it was a premonition, maybe it was delusion, but something told you that all these moments were leading to something and you wouldn’t necessarily come out of it for the better. 

You pressed his hand to your chest, breathing in slowly and looking into his eyes as if everything you’ve ever wanted was held there. His fingers flexed, just slightly, and you began to move it down, dipping it under the edge of the pyjama shirt. 

“Feel my breast,” you whispered, guiding his hand into your shirt until you could feel it searing the flesh of your breast. He was breathing heavily now, chest shaking as he pressed even closer to you, moving his head so his nose lightly brushed your nose. You tilted your head up further so your lips were aligned and only a little move was necessary to connect them. You looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, thoughts racing, trying to decipher what the other person was thinking but also knowing exactly the thoughts that rain through their head, peaking themselves out into their eyes. And then he was kissing you, mouth slightly open, pressing your bottom lip between his. You moved the hand on his chest up to cup the side of your neck, steadying yourself as he gripped onto your chest and devoured your mouth. And his tongue was in your mouth, delving in and pressing to yours, and you couldn’t breathe but you didn’t want to either and his thumb was pressing against your nipple and your entire body was tingling and- 

“Cut! That was perfect, guys!” 

You pulled away slowly, so so slowly. Your lips still stuck to his a little as you moved away. His hand was almost lethargic in its pace to snake out of your shirt, and you moved your own down from his neck to his chest before bringing it back down to your side. You were both breathing heavily, glancing away from each other then back, away then back before you finally turned away and walked off the set toward the chairs and cameras. You licked your lips as you walked, trying to savour the taste of him. 

The director let you all go for the evening, telling you he’d see you all bright and early on the other side of the studio lot for the ‘second meeting’ scene. You hauled your tote bag over your shoulder and practically ran to the golf cart. You spent the entire ride with your eyes closed. 

You didn’t bother eating dinner, just did your night routine and lay down on the bed. There was a little window in the bed area covered with blinds that had been left unfolded. Yellow light from somewhere on the lot was shining in through the cracks but you couldn’t be bothered to move them. You lay in a state between sleep and wakefulness until midnight. Your brain was buzzing with too many thoughts but you were too tired to think through them. 

Five minutes past one, and there was a knock at your trailer door, three soft thuds. You shifted on the bed, lifting your head up slightly to listen for another one. It came, the person was trying to be quiet, and you slowly slid out of bed. You tiptoed to the door and only opened it an inch. Cillian stood directly in front of the trailer, so close to the door that if you opened it wider he would basically be inside. He was wearing a plain white round-neck shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants, his hands shoved into the pockets. His hair was still relatively neat, which meant he hadn’t gone to bed yet, and you suddenly felt self-conscious, patting down the back of your head as you blinked up at him. He smiled, a small thing that didn’t reach his eyes, and you opened the door a little wider, pulling the sleeves of your hoodie down so they wrapped over your fingertips. 

“Can I come in?” He asked quietly, low and serious. You nodded, moving back and letting him close the door behind himself.

You both stood in the little space between the kitchenette and the door. You felt fully awake now, but everything in the world was still. There was pin-drop silence and you two simply looked at each other. Then he was moving forward, slowly, one step at a time, until he was standing as close to you as he was when you were both filming earlier, maybe even closer. 

Every breath you took made your chest brush his. You could feel your nipples tightening and pushing against your hoodie. He brought both of his hands up to cup your head on either side, then leaned down and kissed you firmly. It was slow, a little pull back and then he was pushing in, kissing you again. Everything inside you was slowly heating up, like a saucepan set on a low fire. Your limbs were filling up with it, there was a lump at the back of your throat, and your core was slowly tightening into itself. Your hands shook and you lifted them to press into his sides, clenching your hands into the soft material of his t-shirt. He kissed you again and again until you were heaving your breaths in and leaning your upper body onto his. 

Cillian pulled away and looked at you, a pause as if waiting or asking, and you simply pointed behind you at the little hallway that led to the bedroom. He nodded, just one little movement of his head tipping down, then he pulled away, grasping your hand in his and walking you both to the little bed area. 

The blinds were still spilling orangey-yellow light into the room, and he simply sat you on the bed before turning around to adjust them so they were closed a little tighter but still let small slits of light into the room. Then he got on his knees right in front of you, pushing himself forward so he was between your legs and your knees pressed into his ribs. You were taking deep breaths in, staring at him with parted lips as he brushed your hair away from your face and kissed you once. 

Everything felt so… small. The room was only the space you two inhabited, your breaths were his breaths, your eyes only looking into his eyes, your lips only existing to kiss his. His fingers gently burrowed under the fabric of your hoodie and began lifting it up. He waited for you to raise your arms then slowly removed each of your sleeves, dropping it into a heap next to himself. You were only wearing a bra underneath it, and he lightly caressed your stomach, watching you shudder out breaths at the sensation. He reached up with his other hand and slid one of the bra straps down your shoulder, touching the little mark it had left behind before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to it. Then the other strap was shifted down, another kiss on your shoulder. Your mouth was dry, your hands shaking. You wanted him to consume you. 

You reached out and lightly tugged on the collar of his shirt. He instantly leaned back and took it off, exposing pale skin and softly defined muscles. Each ridge was gentle, like the artist had painstakingly smudged out any harsh lines. You wanted to feel his body pressing down on top of you. 

He gently tugged your shorts down your legs, waiting patiently for you to lean back and lift your hips up so he could get them off. His right hand moved to splay over your stomach, gently pressing until you were laying flat on your back while his left hand lifted your legs to rest over his shoulders. He slowly pulled you forward until the small of your back was curved to the edge of the bed and all the weight of your lower body was on his shoulders. He looked up at you once, bright blue eyes so shiny in the dim light that you wanted to stop and take a picture. But you only breathed out a little shuddering moan as he pressed his lips against your pussy, poking his tongue out and gently licking between the folds. You clenched your eyes shut, one arm thrown carelessly above your head as you bit down on your other hand. 

It was warm and wet and hot. The room felt humid and your skin burned. His lips were so soft, his tongue skillful, and your hips rolled with every movement, warm tendrils of pleasure moving in waves through your body. He licked until your thighs were messy and you could feel his cheeks stick to the insides. He pressed the tip of his tongue inside you until the pressure at your entrance was making you convulse and the sounds leaving your lips were a little too loud for your own liking. You bit so hard into your hand that you were sure your teeth marks would be there the following morning and let your body quiver on the bed as he pulled away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

You could see his chest heaving up and down and you pushed up to lean on your elbows, watching him push the sweatpants off his hips before draping himself over you. You closed your eyes and fell back onto the bed, letting him spread your legs and drape them over his hips. When he pushed into you, you curled around him. Your legs tightened around his waist, your arms wrapped around his torso and you pressed your face into his shoulder, muffled sounds spilling from your lips and into his skin. You could hear him panting directly by your ear, feel the wet breaths against the shell of your ear as he turned his head to nip at it. He began moving, backwards and forwards, pull and push, drag and rub. You pushed your hips up against him, a little ‘unh’ sound pushing from your chest when the little space below his belly button pressed perfectly against your clit. 

You lost yourself in the pleasure. Time didn’t exist in that space, only the feeling of your insides climbing up, reaching for something that would make stars burst behind your eyes. It was the feeling of the bed sheets rubbing against your skin, the clasp of your bra pressing into your back. It was his skin sticking to yours, your hands digging into his back, his lips on your cheek, behind your ear. It was the sounds of your hips meeting, soft consistent thumps that slowly began to increase in speed. 

And then you were there. The moment where everything was just right. When the weight of him inside you and the press against your clit lined up perfectly. When his lips were pressed against your cheek and somewhere a star aligned in the universe. It was like warm flowers blooming inside your stomach, so brightly it was almost painful. You clenched around him, pressed your knees to his ribs as tight as they would go. You clenched your teeth tightly together but pressed your mouth to his shoulder so all the sounds came out muffled and weird, high pitched from the back of your throat or deep from the pit of your stomach. 

He groaned when he finished, hands gripping your hips so tightly you felt them even after he let go. His eyes were scrunched shut and when his hips convulsed a few times he almost hissed at the sensation. He quickly pulled out, falling down right beside you. Neither of you moved for a long while. 

When your joints finally felt like they would no longer fall apart if you moved, you slowly turned to lay on your side. He was already looking at you, eyes soft and tracing over every feature of your face. He reached out, blunt fingertips gently brushing hair off of your forehead and cheeks. He stroked one with his thumb, then moved forward to press the gentlest, most loving kiss against your lips. You kept your eyes closed even when he pulled away. 

He was gone when you woke up in the morning. You thought you dreamed it for a moment, the most vivid dream you had ever had in your life. But you were naked under the blanket, and you never remembered pulling it up from the edge of the bed so someone had tucked you in. Your hoodie and shorts were folded and placed on the tiny nightstand beside the bed, and your blinds were fully closed. When you shifted to get out of bed, you could still feel the way fingertips had pressed into your thighs and a soft soreness throbbing between your legs. Not a dream. 

But then everything felt weird when you left the trailer. You didn’t see Cillian until you were on set for filming and he was busy with the director until ‘action!’ was called. You followed him after ‘cut!’ but he only sat and watched the scene over or read from his script. He smiled politely at you, gave you a wave when he caught you looking, but made no special effort to come over to you. 

You felt off-kilter the entire day, like a joke was being pulled on you but you couldn’t figure out what it was. But then, as you curled up in your bed after sunset, watching the sky darken through the window, he knocked on your door again. And you let him in, let him kiss you and take you to bed. And in the dead of night he wrapped you up in the bed sheets, whispering little jokes, telling stories, watching you like you were precious. And then the cycle started all over again the next day. 

You reasoned with yourself. You guys were still at work, you needed to be professional on set, and it seemed to explain everything away. He snuck into your bed at night, wrapped his arms around you and kissed you, coaxed you into sleep eventually, but never in the daylight. Not even a touch other than the ones on camera. 

You couldn’t feel yourself getting attached, couldn’t see yourself manoeuvring your life around him until you knew you would beg for him to just take your hand in the daytime once, let you call him your man. You came when he called, followed where he went. You didn’t realise until you were devoted, didn’t realise until the willow had bent to the wind.

Taglist: @4ria790

[harmslength]

Milk and Honey —

Paring | Neil Lewis x Reader

Word Count | 4.9K

Summary | Being a mother is no easy task. After a long day of muscle pains, sleep deprivation and overall exhaustion—your adoring husband comes home to help.

TLDR - Post pregnancy hormones, pent up sexual frustration and— oh dear god milk?!

Info | SMUT (18+ only), unprotected sex (p in v), established relationship, breeding kink, lactation kink, mommy and daddy kink, impregnation, pregnancy body mentioned, milk sipping and titty sucking (hell yeah)

Notes | posting this now or I genuinely never will. Not my proudest work but here we are. I’m also incredibly aware that I am subjecting y’all to my own weird kinks…Don’t worry! It will only get worse from here :)

This piece is dedicated to my coworker Bay who told me she accidentally took 90 “period cramp relief” pills that ended up making her lactate. Love u girl 🫶🏽

Build Your Own Adventure | you already know ;) tested it out, it’s fiiilllthyyyy

You laid in a ball on top of your bed. Freshly washed linens and clothes circling you like vultures.

You were exhausted, sleep deprived and you ached all over. Every movement made your muscles tense and your migraine grow.

It’s been three months since you had given birth to your little bundle of joy. Right about now though, your child was a lot more like a bundle of terror.

The baby rarely ever slept, too hungry to sleep and too stubborn to latch. It’s not the babys fault though, you knew that. It’s just—well, it’s fucking hard work.

——

You tried your best to wait up for your husband, you truly did. But your eyes grew heavy and your body aches slowly melted into a soft tingle as you fell into a much needed slumber.

You were awoken by the sound of your bedroom door closing. Groaning at the sudden intrusion of your dreams, you rolled over to look at your intruder.

“You’re home.” You mumbled to him groggily. Neil quickly slipped off his shoes and climbed into bed next to you, pushing off the clothes and freshly folded linen off the bed in the process.

You groaned and reached out for it, a heavy complaint ready to be expelled. But Neil just grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips and kissed it, shushing you with the promise of the laundry being cleaned up later.

“The baby asleep?” He asked while he buried his face in between your shoulder and neck. You felt him take a deep inhale as his fingers trailed down your sore body.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, relaxing at the touch of your loving husband.

“Good.” He smiled and placed a gentle kiss to your neck. You craned your head slightly and welcomed it.

Neil’s soft hands traced the peek of skin that was exposed below your shirt. Lines of stretch marks covered your stomach, but he didn’t mind. He never did, he loved every part of you.

“Thank you for taking care of the baby,” Neil placed kisses along your collarbones.

“I’m so lucky to have you.” Fingers trailed up your shirt to the soft and supple mounds that were your breasts.

You didn’t even realize it, but milk had soaked through the thin layer of your shirt; dripping down and making it sticky against your skin.

“So lucky to have you,” he echoed, his hands slightly trembling, his fresh hard on pressing into your thigh.

You loved the attention Neil gave you, but with how sore your body was from recovering, the constant care of your baby and the ever-growing pressure from the milk trapped in your breasts; you were almost at your breaking point.

“Neil— baby, not tonight.” You protested and gently pushed him away. Neil clung on though, his desire for you borderline insatiable.

“What’s wrong, is Mommy not feeling well?” He cooed into your ear, making you tingle all over.

He had started calling you that—mommy—right after you both found out that you were pregnant. It was sweet for the most part. Mostly coming off as innocent, but when he said it like that—

His fingers tweaked at your sore nipples, always hard and leaking these days. You winced slightly, clenching your teeth and letting out a soft hiss.

“Come on, use your words Mommy.” He teased, making your lower half grow slightly hot as you attempted to fight off his advances.

“I’m so exhausted, my body—“ He interrupted you with the slide of one his hands ghosting past your navel and onto the radiating heat between your legs.

“Mhmm, keep going.” He urged you to continue.

You were slowly getting overwhelmed, your shirt dampening more and more, your arousal slowly building, slowing making its way up a steady hill as it always did.

“My body is overworked, Neil. I-I love staying home and caring for the baby, but with the feeding and the—“ His hand slipped between your thighs, cupping your mound.

“—changing and never sleeping, it’s been so tough.. I’m just so overwhelmed.” You breathed out, little tears of frustration stinging your eyes. You took a deep, long breath in and exhaled.

Neil understood, or at least made sure that you knew he listened to your every word. He was always attentive and kind with you but something about carrying his child for nine months really pushed him into overdrive.

During the pregnancy you had made a habit— or well the baby had made a habit of craving weird foods at the oddest hours. Neil spent plenty of nights standing in 7/11’s at 3 in the morning, or mixing all kinds of weird concoctions that you asked for.

Pickles and ice cream, a Banquets Salisbury Steak dinner, a whole raw onion— you could go on and on.

Massages and bubble baths became a nightly routine for you as well—as Neil insisted. Even closing up the store earlier so he’d have time to cook you dinner.

You thought about these moments as Neil coddled you close to him. Even with all these wonderful things he’s done, there was never an expectation for repayment or a favor due. You simply being his wife, the mother of his child was more than enough.

Neil pushed back the strands of hair that clung to your forehead, you just knew you looked like a mess.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He consoled you as the tears started to build up, you were exhausted and your pregnancy hormones haven’t exactly worn off yet apparently.

“I know it’s been really hard on you since I’ve been back at the store, but you have been doing such an amazing job.” Neil said softly, running his thumbs over your damp cheeks and kissing the top of your head. He wrapped you close to his chest; the damp patch on your shirt now soaking into his.

He cupped your chin in his hand and tilted your head up to look at him.

“You’re the best wife anyone could ask for.” He said earnestly, his gaze passionate and affirming. He always told you this and it never got old. Butterflies would swoon in your chest at the sound of him calling you his wife. It felt like most days you were lucky just to have him.

“But you’re right, this isn’t a job for one person..” He shifted and pulled himself closer to you so you were both eye level.

“Let me take off just a few more weeks, so you can get a break.” He tried reasoning with you but you were having none of it.

“Neil you can’t, you’ve already taken off more time than you should. John and Lucien need you, the store needs you.” You objected. This wasn’t the first time you’ve both have had this conversation.

“They’ll be fine,” he insisted. “Plus I miss you and the baby so much, every minute I’m counting down till I can see you guys next.”

Neil’s words made your heart grow fonder but the answer was still no.

“Neil—“ you protested and finally he caved.

“Okay, okay well at least let my mom come and help, she loves you guys so much and I know she wouldn’t mind.” He offered.

“Are you sure…? I really don’t want to bother her-“

“I’m positive. I can call her tomorrow.” He assured and you pondered over it for a minute. It was a no brainer really, so you agreed.

“Okay..” you relented, nodding your head while he held it in his hands.

“Yeah? Okay.” he nodded with a big goofy smile on his face. He placed a passionate kiss to your lips before peppering your face with little pecks. You laughed, already your dampened mood brightening. He always knew how to cheer you up.

Carefully, he placed himself between your legs, pushing himself up so he was leaning over you. One of his hands traced your hip as he stared down into your eyes.

Your hair had been pulled back into a bun except for the few stray pieces, you had slight bags under your eyes and now even more the milk stain was obvious.

“You poor thing..” He purred, as he took you in.

“Overworking your body to take care of my child..” He brought his hand up to trace your cheek lightly.

“I think it’s time you let daddy take care of you.” He whispered against your ear, making the room grow steadily hotter and hotter.

You looked into his eyes, basically swimming in them as his pupils grew wider with each passing second. He was ready to dive in, to pamper and devour all in one.

Before you could say anything, his hands crawled up your wasted shirt and cupped your enlarged breasts. Every chance he could he’d have his hands on them. Rubbing, groping, licking, pinching—all of the above. It was only lately where you couldn’t stand them being played with and it was driving Neil insane.

You winced and grabbed his wrist, urging him to stop.

“They’re sore.. please.” You begged and Neil leaned down to place another kiss to your hand.

“I’ll be gentle.” Neil assured and went back to what he was doing. He slid the shirt over your head, lifting your arms and slipping it past your head and shoulders.

His hands gently wound their way around your tits, pushing them together and watching as the milk dribbled out, just a little, just enough for a taste.

“Neil—“ you whispered in distress and he shushed you lightly. He craned his head and scooted down so his hard on was pressing up against your heat.

“They’re so full.” He admired, his eyes taking mental shots at the sight of them. He had been touched starved for the past three months, his body basically itching to be close to you.

Since giving birth you’ve both been either too exhausted to be intimate or too busy. Any other chance he could though, he was rubbing himself against you or fondling you. Each time being met with a giggle and swatting him away, or him finishing in his pants while you laid there and encouraged him.

He couldn’t help it though, when it came to you he was a depraved man. Never getting enough of you—truly insatiable.

You watched him as he slowly licked the circumference of your nipple, lapping up the droplets of milk like he was dehydrated. You gasped seeing him relish in the taste and latch his mouth to the bud.

It started slow, his mouth kitten licking and prodding, never using his teeth no matter how badly he wanted to nip at you.

Soon though his focus was completely centered around your tits. His eyes fluttered shut and soft moans escaped his lips, vibrating around it.

It still hurt of course, and not necessarily in a good way. It was painful for him to even touch them but you enjoyed seeing him like this so much that you fought through it. You carded your fingers through his hair and tugged lightly, knowing he loved when you did that.

That elicited a whimper from him as his eyes snapped open and softened when he met your gaze. Your pupils equally the size of saucers as you stared down at this wonderful sight in front of you.

Neil’s lips latched tighter and gently he started to suck, keeping his eyes on you the entire time as you gasped at the feeling—the pull.

He brought both hands to your breasts as his hips ground into your clothed heat. He had one focus now, and it was drinking every last drop of you till you were spent.

“Fuck, Neil,” you whined, finding all of this oddly pleasurable. This was most definitely new, sure he had sucked on your nipples before but he’s never drank from them.

You watched his eyes roll to the back of his head, his breathing labored, body hungry for more. You watched a droplet of milk spill from the corner of his mouth, his throat swallowing, basically gulping down as much as he possibly could.

He pulled off just enough to take a breath, and move to the next one. The one hand that wasn’t being occupied holding your tits in place, slithered down and slipped past your pants and panties, finding a goldmine of wetness waiting for him.

Neil moaned and looked up at you to watch your reaction as he brought two digits to your clit. Moving in slow, diligent circles and making you squirm as you pressed your body up into his fingers. It’s been a long three months for the both of you.

“Does that feel good, mommy? Do you like when I touch you like this?” He teased, making you bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop yourself from whimpering.

“Y-Yes.” You choked out, slowly losing your mind to his aggressive touches.

Neil licked at his milky lips, savoring the taste before he pressed them to yours, forcing you to taste your own creation.

His tongue tasted sweet, like cantaloupe juice, and you wondered if that’s what it really tasted like. Neil pulled back and smirked at you, his fingers still working you into a frenzy.

“Tastes good right? Tastes so fucking good.” He moaned and finally couldn’t take it anymore. Without even consoling you, he yanked at the hem of your pants and underwear, shoving them down your thighs and passed your ankles.

You clung to yourself now, not entirely used to your post pregnancy body being put on display. Neither of you has made love quite like this in a while.

“Fuck baby,” the words slipped right off his tongue like melted butter. He pried your arms back and hungrily kissed at your chest, slowly making his way down.

His movements were quick and passionate, diving into your body like a sweet dessert. He kissed down your stomach, leaving a trail of spit behind, stopping close to your abdomen and just loving the feeling of your bush rubbing against his chin.

“You just taste so good— I can’t help myself.” He mouthed at your supple skin. His hands still trailing behind him, groping and fondling at every inch of your skin.

“I needed this. I needed this so bad baby, you have no idea.” He whined and his lips trailed over your inner thighs. He wanted to take his time with you, to make you feel good, and he would even as his own erection was pressing harshly against his jeans.

He latched his mouth to your dripping cunt, the warm, wet heat calling out to him, begging to be licked clean.

He did just that, filling the room with lewd slurping sounds as a mix of your moans blended together perfectly. You almost forgot about the sleeping baby in the other room.

“Neil, the baby is sleeping, w-we have to be quiet.” You warned in between a gasp, his mouth mercilessly working you into a mind-bending orgasm.

He sucked especially hard and pulled off, making you clutch the sheets for dear life.

“Yeah?” He whispered to you, his voice low and raspy. Even in the dimming light of the room, as the sun started to settle; you could see him. His lips and chin were slick with your juices. It was like a scene straight out of a porno—a good porno, of course.

You nodded at him and swallowed hard, he wasn’t asking for clarification, he was challenging you.

“Well then we better be quiet, right?” He teased and you nodded again.

His hand gripped your breast and tweaked the nipple, little teardrops of milk spilling out onto his fingers. You winced slightly at the manhandling but let him continue.

“Here, try some.” He said, collecting some of it and shoving his fingers into your mouth. Just when you started to suck them clean, he slipped two fingers inside of you making you arch your back and moan loudly around his digits.

“That’s right, Mommy can take it. Mommy can take it real good.” He praised you and moved both sets of fingers in sync. You clenched around him hard when his thumb swiped up at your already aroused clit. Slow and steady at first but picking up speed quickly.

You mouthed obscenities around him as he continued finger fucking you and he just took it all in. Biting his bottom lip, he was at the precipice of his own desire. The fact that he could do this to you, the fact that he could drive you crazy like this.. it was his only purpose.

Neil became uncomfortably aware of how much clothes he had on shortly after and pulled away just long enough to slip himself free of his confines. You laid there, trying to catch your breath and trying to stop your legs from shaking.

You watched him flip back the buckle of his belt and yank down his trousers and underwear in one swift move.

You stared at his erection, making mental note that the tip was slick with precum, it made your cunt ache more than it’s ever before.

You reached for him in desperation and he met you halfway. Neil pulled himself on top of you and feverishly ground himself against you.

Slipping his cock between your folds, right against your clit and using your own arousal as his lubrication. He bucked into you, a deep growl escaping his lips with each thrust upward.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about this all week..” He confessed with his eyes closed.

“Every time I watch you put the dishes away or bend over to pick something up—“ he slid his cock roughly against your clit once again.

“—all I could think about was fucking you right then and there.” you mewled at his confession though you already knew he wanted to.

“I just want to fuck you over every countertop, rip your fucking clothes off of you and fill that pretty pussy of yours.” This desperate act of him humping against you was pushing you close to the edge, as pathetic as it was to admit. Again, it’s been a long three months.

“Can you imagine that? Us having another baby, your belly all big again—and god those milky tits getting bigger than ever.” He fondled at your breasts, making more warm milk leak from them.

His depraved words only brought both of you closer to the edge. You knew he wouldn’t finish this way, he liked it inside.

You moaned and arched your back with each drag of his cock down your sensitive bud, each movement only producing more and more lubrication.

Your fingers made lines of red down his back as you clawed. Each heave of your chests making the room grow stuffier and stuffier.

“Can you imagine that baby? Tell me how badly you want it.” Neil urged, his hips slowing down, adding more pressure every time he moved towards you.

“Y-Yes..” you said weakly. You were completely loss for words, you had no idea he was so into that. “I can—I can imagine that.” You croaked, which only made a wicked smirk form on his face.

“Just look you, poor thing hasn’t been properly fucked in months. Hasn’t had Daddy’s cock to come all over.” His words basically made your eyes roll to the back of your head. His never-ending teasing making your pussy twitch and physically yearn for him.

Neil felt it, oh he felt it alright and it only drove him more mad. “Ooh you like that don’t you? Why don’t you come like this. Come on, come for me.”

You went to object, opening your mouth to beg him not to make you come like this; like you were some horny teenager rubbing herself off on her pillow, it felt dirty and depraved—which you were by all means— but you wanted more, you wanted to feel him.

Neil stopped you, “No whining, just do it.” He insisted and you could barely contain the high pitched whimper that left your lips as your cavern squeezed around itself, desperate for something to latch onto as wave after wave hit your body over and over again.

You threw your head back and about halfway through your orgasm you remembered the importance of staying quiet.

Neil kept on rubbing his perpetually leaking cock up and down your clit till your thighs twitched and you became desperate to get away.

Now that your opening was slick and so beyond ready, he slowly slid in. Inch by inch, he filled your sensitive cunt. He relished in the feeling, the grip tight and still fluttering from your orgasm.

“Neil!” You gasped, not expecting the burn from the stretch that met you. It hurt, which was to be expected but this felt different compared to what you were used to. It felt like he was tunneling a hole into you. Splitting you but also igniting you in the best way possible.

“Fuuuck…” he drawled out, his eyes fluttering shut as he rocked himself slowly in and out, over and over again.

Neil knelt over you, his elbows slotted on each side of your head. He leaned in so his lips were just grazing yours, his tongue slipping out to swipe at your parted lips.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this—you have no idea how much I’ve missed this.” He said, emphasizing his words with deeper thrusts. “How much I missed you.”

You felt your ears grow hot as your arousal bubbled up again. It was a heat that was so indescribable and so delicious it made your mouth water. You nodded, your chest rising and falling, labored breaths leaving you.

Neil fell into a slow and brutal pace. You could feel every inch of him, every curve and vein as he fucked you into oblivion. The speed only made your head spin and you found yourself digging lines down his back once more.

“Oh my god, baby. You know how I love it when you do that.” He moaned for you, slotting his head in between your shoulder.

Each word made you wetter and wetter. Soon enough the whole room was filled with soft squelching noises. It only seemed to spur Neil on because in seconds he pulled back, sitting back on his knees and gripped your hips for support as he looked down at you.

“I could come right now.” He said, his glazed eyes roaming over your body. He watched the way his thrusts made your breasts move, watching them jiggle as little droplets dribbled down the curve of them and onto the sheets.

“I could fill you up so good, have you walking around the rest of the day with my come leaking out of you… but I can’t.” He resigned with a sigh and angled his hips slightly upwards before slamming into you full force.

The wind was knocked out of you instantly. Gasping and trying desperately to ground yourself you clawed at the sheets, inevitably pulling them loose from the tucked corners of the bed.

He was fucking you so hard you could hear the loose screw in the frame rattling with each thrust inward.

“Neil please!” You begged but you weren’t even sure for what. For him to slow down? For him to stop? Oh no, no, no—that just wouldn’t do.

“I can’t baby, not when I need to feel you come all over me. Need to see that pretty little face as I—“ He gripped at your cheeks for emphasis, making your jaw hang open and your lips pouty. He leaned over just enough to spit into your gaping mouth and moved your jaw closed so you would swallow it.

“—fuck you into this mattress.” He finished. You felt your chest tighten, all the muscles in your thighs and stomach seizing for a moment as another wave of ecstasy hit you.

His filthy words filled your ears like angels singing and you nodded along, your body already climbing to your next orgasm.

You would do anything he said in this moment as long as he kept doing what he was doing. If he wanted another baby—fine. If he wanted you to scale the Empire State Building—that’s fine too.

You felt pressure building up, like weights were being placed against the bundle of nerves inside of you. You knew you could come like this if he kept up his brutal pace but you needed more and well—Neil had no problem delivering.

He moved your legs so they now rested against his shoulders and leaned forward. He went impossibly deep and both of you let out an animalistic moan.

He sped up quick, sounds of his thighs slapping against yours echoing off the walls. He reached for your hand that was bunched in the messy sheets and placed it between your thighs.

“Touch yourself for me.” He ordered and you didn’t hesitate.

You brought two fingers down and started rubbing in rhythmic circles making the deepest parts inside your pussy start to twitch. Neil’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, his mouth hanging open as you watched him tremble at the feeling of you—at the sight of you.

You were so clearly everything to him, and having you like this—your knees to your chest, split open and fucking writhing underneath him.. He’d call it heaven—scratch that—better than heaven.

“I-I’m close.” You choked out, your voice growing higher in pitch as he continued pounding his cock deeper and deeper into you.

Neil’s eyes returned to you, meeting your lust filled gaze before latching his lips down onto your nipple and starting to suck again.

It felt like he was dragging every ounce of energy out of you. Purely sucking the soul out of you.

You brought your free hand up to his hair, latching on and gripping so hard onto his locks you thought you’d rip them out.

“Neil, Neil, neil…” You chanted his name. The bed shook with you both, squeaks and rattling, the sound of flesh meeting flesh. It was too good. Too raw. And there was little to no care in keeping quiet anymore.

“Yeah baby, keep saying my name. Let everyone know who fucks you this good.” Neil purred, removing himself long enough from your tits to speak and then immediately returning back to suck them dry.

“Fuck!” You gasped one last time as you clamped down on him. Everything tensed for a long minute and you swore you blacked out. A soft ringing filled your ears, toes curling beside his ear, thighs trembling.

Neil moaned loudly, his mouth full and vibrating around your sore and hardened nipples. There was pain and pleasure mixing like a lethal cocktail, making you spill all around him.

The base of his cock grew sticky and the wet sounds only amplified. His thrusts grew erratic but never lost their strength.

You watched Neil detach from your nipple long enough to see the milky liquid stain his lips. He gaped at you, mouth hanging open and breathing heavy. Hunger. Deep and vicious in his eyes.

“Tell me you want another baby.” He said in a strained low voice.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He ordered. You were surprised he still had the strength to tease you, to make you beg.

“I want it.” You said without hesitating. He was still fucking you through your sensitivity which was starting to make you squirm but he liked it that way.

“Say it again.” He demanded with desperation.

“I want a-another baby Neil.” You could barely get out as he slammed particularly hard into you.

“More.” He all but growled. You could tell he was there, right on the tipping age. He was always more.. demanding when he was close.

“I-I want another baby. Fuck—I love you so much, I’d do anything for you.” The words spilled from your lips without even thinking.

It was a drop of tenderness in an act that would surely get you both sent to hell if you weren’t already married. But it buried Neil, hammering in the last nail towards completion.

Neil stilled for a moment, his full body weight pressing down on you as his thighs shook against yours.

He gaped for a second, the room falling eerily quiet as his orgasm sucked the air out of him. He gasped loudly, “Fuuuck..” drawled from his throat.

You felt him flex inside you over and over again, the head of his member hitting your sweet spot every time a hot gushing dose of come spilled from it.

His hands gripped the back of your knees for support as he pumped the last bit of it deep inside of you.

You tried to catch your breath but under the weight of him, it was proving to be difficult. Before you could say anything though, Neil pushed his lips to yours.

Lazy, sweet and all tongue. He lapped at your lips and then pressed his tongue to the back of your teeth. You hummed into the kiss, pulling him in deeper by the back of his head.

You both laid there for a moment, lip locked and absolutely wrecked. You pulled away just to tell him that he was starting to crush you, but of course, just a second later you heard the crackles of the baby monitor next to you, and soon enough the baby’s cries could be heard.

Neil smiled down at you, that same goofy smile that had you hooked from day one. “I’ll get him, you stay here and rest up.” He said already pulling away and out of you.

“You deserve it.” He added, placing one last kiss upon your nose and turning towards the closet to pull out some fresh clothes.

You deserve it.

[godspeedviper]

The Arkham County Jane Doe - Crane x Reader x Hannibal (18+)

𖤐 Requested by Anonymous: Hi, could you maybe write a fanfic where both Dr. Crane and Hannibal are obsessed with their patient ( maybe in a mental hospital) and actively isolate her from other patients? After she tries to escape, they make it clear they won‘t allow it unless she stays with them in some form. With smut in the end?

𖤐 Type: Oneshot || Hannibal Lecter x Fem!Reader x Jonathan Crane || Smut || Crossover

𖤐 Word Count: 2,605

𖤐 Rating: Explicit || Spitroasting || Manipulation || Obsession || Threesomes || Asylums || Doctor/Patient Relationship

𖤐 A/N: Hope I got this one right! Apologies for taking so long with it, it's been the most challenging request I've written thus far. Thanks for trusting me with it!

When Hannibal first laid eyes on her, she was standing in a secure hospital room wearing what appeared to be just a men's XL shirt, plain, and some socks, all covered in dried blood and dirt. She was found in a shed on a vast property at the edge of Arkham county, held captive along with two other young women, who had originally gone missing from Franklin, Maryland. However, nothing was known about her in particular. No one had reported her missing, unlike the other two victims, and neither of the two knew her name. Most perplexing of all, she herself claimed to not know her identity either. With the perpetrator still in the wind, it was up to Hannibal to try and coax information from her in hopes of solving the case. She was his patient now. His, and only his. 

  When Jonathan Crane first saw her, she was dressed in a cream colored Arkham Asylum patient uniform – which consisted of a pair of sweatpants, a sweatshirt, matching gripped socks, and a white t-shirt underneath – the standard for all the non high risk patients. She was a puzzle, and he wanted to crack her open and reach inside 

to consume 

to taste 

to know.

  Unfortunately, he would have to be sharing her with the BAU as she potentially held vital information to an open case. He watched as the FBI’s chosen psychiatrist stepped into his office. Dr. Hannibal Lecter was a man unlike any he’s ever encountered. Crane was accustomed to being the apex predator within Arkham’s walls, both amongst staff and patients alike. He didn’t like the confidence with which the other psychiatrist paraded himself around the office like he owned the place. Crane especially didn’t like the bold familiarity with which Dr. Lecter approached his favorite patient. It was far too close for Crane’s comfort. She was his and his alone… or so he thought. 

“Hello Jane.” Dr. Crane watched, and listened, as Dr. Lecter interacted with his patient through the security footage. 

“Must you call me that?” she replied. 

“Until we can find out your name, yes I’m afraid I will have to call you that.” He smirked and leaned forward, closing the distance between them and obscuring Jonathan’s view of her from the security camera, positioning himself between her and the camera’s line of sight. 

  What a cocky bastard. Crane thought to himself. He took a sip of his coffee and leaned closer to the monitors to get a better look at their interactions. I wonder what he’s afraid of… Jonathan made a mental note to take some time to customize a batch of fear toxin to use on Dr. Lecter at his earliest convenience. The rest of the session was uneventful to the untrained eye, but Jonathan’s psychiatric expertise compounded with his raging jealousy was causing him to make mountains out of molehills. He spent the remainder of the week visibly distracted as the envy consumed him. He would have to move her to higher security to ensure that any upcoming “sessions” with Dr. Lecter wouldn’t be so cozy. 

  The next time Dr. Lecter met with Jane Doe he had to go past additional security clearances and into a whole other room. This time she was behind a plexiglass window with a phone on the wall, similar to prison visitation. He frowned, surely this was wrong. How could they treat a victim like a prisoner? Like a suspect? The whole objective was to establish rapport and glean insight. How could he when she was now being treated like the people who harmed her? No, this simply wouldn’t do. Hannibal sat down and picked up the phone, his eyes quickly scanning the room to find where the security cameras were situated. 

“Hello again, Miss Doe.” he gave a warm smile and then he leaned in to whisper “I’m going to get you out of here, I promise, but you must do as I tell you.” 

She mouthed a desperate ‘ thank you’ and relaxed her body in relief. 

This only escalated the situation. 

   Hannibal was able to convince Jack Crawford and Co. to plead a case with the Arkham board of directors to reduce security clearance on their Jane Doe. In two weeks he was face to face with the board alongside Dr. Alana Bloom, Dr. Frederick Chilton, and even Jack Crawford himself, all threatening to pursue a transfer closer to Quantico unless they stop treating her as one would a suspect or dangerous patient. Dr. Crane was present at the meeting, and subsequently yielded, only to have her transferred to an entirely new wing of Arkham in a few weeks under the pretense of using alternative treatment methods for her benefit. For months, the two psychiatrists continued to battle for dominance over the case of the Arkham County Jane Doe, to the point that even Freddie Lounds and Vicki Vale caught wind of it. The two journalists began hanging around the asylum trying to interview as many people as possible regarding the situation. Soon it became more than that, writers began flocking in from all over, from the Gotham Gazette to the Daily Planet and even a few true crime youtubers tried to throw their hat into the ring. 

“Why is Arkham Asylum so keen on keeping the FBI out of this case?”

“What is the extent of the BAU’s knowledge on the living Jane Doe?”

“Don’t you think all this back and forth, all this bureaucracy, is just hindering the investigation?” 

“Isn’t this just another dick measuring contest between bureaus to see who can keep the glory?”  

  The two men continued their game of chess – with Jane Doe as their queen, their objective – with laser focus, but alas great minds think alike, and as such it was like trying to fight their own shadow. Both men were incredibly intelligent in more ways than one, and both were more than willing to fight dirty. As their rivalry intensified, so did the cracks, and she knew it would only be a short time before an opportunity presented itself. She was playing them both like a fiddle and not a single person had caught on, not the two doctors in question, nor the rest of the asylum staff, not even the FBI were alerted to her manipulative tactics, and all she had to do was sit back and let them consume each other. All remained on track until the 6th month of her capture, when one of the journalists tried to bribe their way into the asylum. This rang a few alarm bells for Dr. Lecter’s case partner, Will Graham, causing him to confront the doctor with his theory.  

And so Hannibal Lecter set up a very special dinner. 

“What brings you here today Dr. Lecter?” Jonathan Crane tried to feign disinterest, but this was so out of the blue that he couldn’t help his curiosity. He fixed his eyes on the man sitting across from him waiting to catch any minor movements that would aid his understanding of the present situation. Hannibal sat tall in the guest seat in Jonathan’s office, hands folded neatly in his lap, his legs crossed at the ankle below.

“It seems we have a problem.” Hannibal almost purred. 

“We?” replied Crane, raising a brow inquisitively. 

“Yes, it concerns our mutual patient.” Dr Lecter smirked. He let the information sink in and he watched with rapt attention as the mad doctor before him shifted his body from curious, but defensive, to fully alert and open. “I would like to discuss this with you over dinner tonight if that is possible. These walls have ears.”

“Don’t I know it.” Jonathan hummed in agreement. 

  After the journalist’s attempt to break into the asylum, the Arkham County Jane Doe was moved to an extra special cell deep within the bowels of the madhouse. She was given a new set of clothing, bright orange, for the high risk patients. It was for her own safety, they said, but her gut instinct doubted it. The cell was completely padded, it had a bed built into the floor, entirely padded as well, and a small toilet with a minor covering sat in the furthermost corner. It would all be comical if not for the gravity of the situation. She would never escape from here, there wasn’t even a window. An eternity seemed to pass her by in that strange little room before the monotony was broken by the sound of the heavy door being unlocked from the outside. However, she didn’t stir, she remained in the makeshift bed with her back towards the door, she already knew who was about to come in there was no one else it could be. 

“There are very few people within Arkham that even know of this room’s existence.” Said the voice, it was Dr. Crane. “And even fewer still can access it.” 

She could hear the smile in his voice, yet she still refused to turn around. 

“It is a real privilege to be here.” Said a different voice, and this one caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on attention. The voice belonged to none other than Dr. Lecter. This time, she almost feared turning around to greet them. 

The heavy door closed behind them, making a sort of suction sound as it sealed shut. Both men stood in front of the door with their hands behind their back and hungry smiles spread on their lips like wolves overlooking helpless prey. She lay there, frozen, unsure of how to react as she began to hear the men pacing around the room, circling her like vultures. The two were entirely in sync, a stark contrast to the rival dynamic they had for the past 6 months. Their voices blended together into one and they even finish each other’s sentences. A malicious alliance. 

“You know, it takes quite a lot to pull the wool over my eyes…” 

“...but to do that to both of us? That takes serious skill.” 

“We’re impressed darling, really, we are.” 

“That’s exactly why we have decided to give you a choice.”

At this, she finally perked up, sitting at the edge of the bed to finally face her two captors. 

“There’s that lovely face.” Said Jonathan with a cheeky smile. 

“What are my options?” she asked. 

“You can stay here at Arkham, under strict surveillance until the brass solves the case and figures out what to do with you.” Jonathan then turned to look at Hannibal, who spoke without missing a beat. 

“Or you can give us some information, and we will then take care of you… If you wish." His smile was hungry and wolfish. 

“And what must I do to earn your good side?” she asked, there was something missing in this whole equation. “You two wouldn’t go through all this trouble just to offer me this for nothing in return.” 

  The pair of psychiatrists stepped forward, flanking her on each side, each man looking like a mirror image of each other. Both tall, lean, with stark chiseled features and stoic expressions that revealed nothing and everything all at once. Without warning, Hannibal sat down on the bed beside her and pressed his mouth to her throat, worshiping her soft skin with his lips. Jonathan eagerly joined in, resting his head on her shoulder and mirroring the other’s actions on her throat. She gasped in surprise and then straightened her back, lengthening her neck, and leaning into the action as much as her body would allow. She felt a hand grab her inner thigh, pulling her legs apart, while another slipped under the top of her asylum uniform, sliding up her torso and reaching for her tender breast. Her head lolled back and her eyelids fluttered as her skin grew hot. She heard them speak but she could no longer tell who was who, it was as if the three of them were slowly melting into one. 

“We’ve seen how you look at us.” 

���Surely you must’ve been anticipating intimacy with at least one of us.”

“You were going to seduce us, and now we get to seduce you.” 

A rhythm was soon established, set by the frantic beating hearts and breathy wanton moans. The whole room seemed to almost pulsate with energy as the sexual tension was ratcheted up exponentially. The ebb and flow was abruptly stopped by three simple words. 

“I want you.”

Even she was taken aback by the sound of her own voice, let alone her choice of words.

“Which one?” came the reply.

“Both.”

  Neither psychiatrist wasted any time in disrobing their patient, any regard for professionalism or ethics had been left outside this door along with their dignity. In this room, they were all mad. Despite their haste, she felt as if nothing would ever be fast enough to quench this burning desire in her core. Once fully nude she lay back on the bed, eagerly waiting to be taken advantage of. Both men were visibly hungry and hard. Their hands moved on instinct alone as neither could tear their eyes away from the nude figure before them, she captivated their attention like hypnosis, they were powerless in her grasp, she who manipulated them both and preyed upon their competitive jealousy for her own benefit. Freeing his member from his slacks, Hannibal ruthlessly grabbed the back of her head with one hand and his length in the other. She salivated at the sight and wrapped her lips around the head. She could just barely hear him curse beneath his breath in another language. Suddenly, Dr. Crane’s hand grabs onto her hip, pushing her up onto the bed on all fours. Once in position, he got up behind her and spread her thighs, using his hand to guide himself into her from behind. She whimpered against Hannibal’s cock in her mouth as she felt Crane spear her open. The warm ache of being stretched by him simply spurred her on. She slowly widened her jaw, taking Hannibal deep while Crane set a punishing pace. Hannibal gripped a fistful of her hair while Jonathan grabbed onto her hips with both hands. 

  The heavily cushioned room acted as soundproofing, muffling the lewd sounds of flesh against flesh and desperate, animalistic moans as the trio selfishly chased after their own orgasms. The fact that she was fully nude while both men were still clothed made her blush all over. She belonged to them both, and each man stood his claim. Her throat tightened around Hannibal’s cock as she tried to scream. She was utterly overwhelmed, her mounting orgasm causing her to rock back against Jonathan’s hips in search of that sweet release. It didn’t take long before she was seeing stars, but neither man had relented. The overstimulation was beginning to ache and she was reduced to a twitching, whimpering mess. 

“No no,” She heard them say. “You owe us this. You played us, and now it’s our turn to have fun.” 

The sweet torture did not last much longer, and she soon felt Dr. Crane coating her insides with his own release. He shakily bucked against her as he finished, paralyzed by pleasure, he let himself grow soft inside her. Dr. Lecter came soon after, spilling his seed down her throat and holding her head flush against him, forcing her to obediently swallow it all. 

“Good girl.” He gasped. 

“We’ll take good care of you.” Said Jonathan.

“You won’t want for anything.” Added Hannibal. 

She merely nodded in agreement, accepting whatever terms as long as it meant safety and pleasure in their arms. 

Ao3 || Guidelines || WiPs || Ko-Fi

[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 5

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series master list

I changed slightly what I already had written after reading someone’s comment on the previous part 🤭 I always love reading what you think, sometimes it even sparks an idea or two… 🥰

Word count: 3,213

Y/N walked excitedly through the Shelby Company headquarters. She was granted with the permission to open the Shelby Institute, it was incredible how much Tommy’s contacts helped her speed up the process. Now she’d need to interview and recruit teachers, cleaning personnel, a couple of secretaries and enroll the children for the upcoming school year.

But as she got closer, Tommy’s shouting became clearer.

“Don’t fucking try to trick me, Lizzie.” He warned.

Then Y/N flinched when Lizzie raised her voice. “What’s your fucking problem then? If I sleep with Angel, his father or his cousin it’s none of your business!”

“Of course it’s my business!” He exploded. Anger raising at the thought the Changrettas getting sensitive information from his secretary, Lizzie had a big mouth when she wanted to. In more ways than one. “How much is Changretta paying you?”

“So you can choose who I sleep with,” Lizzie spat, “but you are covering Y/N’s pregnancy and treating her as if she was a Shelby!”

She was now able to understand all the secrecy around Tommy’s confident, why suddenly everyone wanted to make sure she was alright, why she was around more frequently. The thought of Y/N fulfilling all the dreams that belonged to her, made Lizzie go mad.

What was happening with the Changretta family? Y/N wondered as she overheard the heated exchange coming from Tommy’s office. The last thing she knew about them was when Danny Whizzbang was falsely killed in front of the Italians. But that was a few years back.

“I know her parents kicked her out.” Y/N heard Lizzie again. “What? You thought I wouldn’t find out? So now you’re pretending to be the perfect little family?”

That’s why Scott disappeared overnight. Lizzie wondered for how long they’ve been fooling everyone.

“Since when do I have to give you explanations, ey? You’re not answering me! What have you told Angel about us?” His hands shook her shoulders abruptly.

“Oh please! Don’t give yourself that much importance, the last thing we do is talk about you. And you don’t have the right to question my decisions, when you’re supporting Y/N and her bastard.”

That last statement was enough for Y/N to feel her blood boiling.

“Repeat that in my face. I dare you.” She opened the door with such force that it slammed against the wall behind. Lizzie paled.

Tommy recognized that look, he barely had time to react and intercepted Y/N midway.

“Y/N calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Y/N shouted, if it wasn’t for Tommy she would’ve already slapped Lizzie. “I’m tired of this, everybody thinks they can call my child bastard just because I’m not married.” She had to bite her tongue to stop her from telling a truth or two to Lizzie. She rarely got angry but once she did, there was no going back.

“Lizzie get out, I don’t want to see you.” Tommy barked as he tried to help Y/N to sit down. Then he realized they had an audience outside his office. “What are y’all doing there?! Go back to work!”

Once he had her settled on the couch, he offered Y/N a glass of water.

“Don’t let her words sink in. It’s bullshit.” He tried, but Y/N was still altered.

“She from all of the people, dares to point her finger at me.” Y/N said sarcastically and rolled her eyes. “And just because I thought Scott was-” she trailed off.

“You’re much better without him, you know that right?” Tommy crouched down, to be at her level.

“Will this ever stop?” Y/N’s voice cracked by the end, emotions at its highest.

“I’ll shoot anyone who dares to say anything like that again.”

His hands tried to calm her trembling fingers. His words managed to earn a small smirk from her, Tommy’s words managed to make her feel better momentarily. But she couldn’t help but wonder for how long she’d be able to deal with comments like that. She’s need to create a shell around her, a thick skin as Ada had told her. Give zero fucks about others people’s opinions.

“It’s like I’ll have it tattooed in my forehead for the rest of my life.”

“What the hell happened?” John demanded to know.

“Get some men to follow Lizzie, she’s been seeing Angel Changretta and we don’t know what kind of information she’s been giving them.”

“Ah the brat!” John made an annoyance face and stormed off.

To try to calm the anger raising, Tommy poured himself a glass of whiskey, not wanting to snap at Y/N for the previous altercation with Lizzie.

The Italians had always give him and his people a bad blood, they thought they were better than anyone else. And in the long run, a relationship between his secretary and one of the Changrettas would bring him more problems than good. Lizzie knew way too much about the business, he couldn’t just fire her.

He needed to find a loose end, something to stop them, to show his power over the Italians. He needed a plan…

Love and sex are a dangerous thing, people get blinded by it and he could’ve a snitch under his nose, he needed to be more cautions with the people he hired and make it clear the unwritten rules and conditions to work for him.

“I should’ve told you sooner.” Y/N mumbled, feeling guilty.

“You knew?” The frown on his brow intensified.

“Not exactly, but one day she started making weird comments about a date and her love life and oh this incredible man…” Y/N shook her face. “I thought she was just bluffing.”

“Yeah you should’ve. But it doesn’t matter now…” he trailed off going for a glass of whiskey, it was still early but he felt like a lion in a cage.

Y/N noticed the way his mind was working, already anticipating to endless possible scenarios and outcomes. Then he paused to rest his arms against a chair and let his head hang loose. The straps of the holster tightened around his shoulders and back, his muscles flexed under the shirt.

“Are you jealous?”

Tommy’s head snapped at Y/N’s words. Taking him by surprise.

“As if you didn’t knew me, you from all of them.” Tommy scoffed, but his eyes softened. “Really? You think I’d be jealous for Lizzie?”

Y/N blushed embarrassed for asking something so intimate. It wasn’t her business.

“Forget I said anything.” She looked in the opposite direction.

“Look at me.” Tommy pleaded with a deep voice. “Lizzie… is not the type of woman that would make a man jealous.” How could he say it nicely? Lizzie was a whore, he didn’t judge her though… But he tried to be cautious with his words.

It took Y/N a moment to register what Tommy meant. But she got the hint wrong. “I get it… just like me, right?”

Mortified, Tommy placed his hands on her shoulders. “No, no that’s not what I was trying to say.” The last thing he wanted to was to hurt her.

“Sure.”

“Y/N…” Tommy whispered, using his forefinger to tilt her head up. “You’re different.”

“The only difference is that she gets paid.” Y/N shuddered, accepting her new reality.

“That’s not true and you know it.” He was too close for her to smell his aftershave and cologne.

His thumb caressing softly her chin.

Shaking her head, she took a step back, but the bold movement made her feel dizzy, her head started spinning.

“What is it?” He asked with worry. “Are you alright?”

Y/N let him guide her to the closest chair. “Yes, it’s just this dizziness, it will go away in a minute.”

But despite Y/N’s efforts to calm him down, Tommy got worrier by the minute.

“Do you need anything?” He eyed Y/N, trying to read her expressions.

“No, thanks.”

“Y/N tell me what I can do for you.” Tommy kneeled before her.

The way he showed her that he genuinely cared about her, melted her heart. Having Tommy’s support meant to her more than words could express.

“I swear I’m fine.”

“Are you feeling poorly?” Polly stepped into Tommy’s office.

“She got dizzy.” He answered for Y/N, looking at his aunt.

“I’ll make you some tea.” She announced before giving Y/N a gentle squeeze on her arm. “Keep her with her head up until it pases, then bring her to the house, I need to speak to you.”

Polly’s look didn’t go unnoticed by Tommy.

He knew those eyes and something was happening, and judging by the look in them it had to be serious.

“I just came to tell you that you can set now the date to open the Institution as soon as we get the personnel.” Y/N announced with her eyes still closed.

“That’s the best news I’ve heard today.” The smile he gave her, was inevitable. “Can I help you with anything?”

“I don’t think you want to go through the interviews and stuff.” Y/N raised her eyebrows at him.

“No.” Tommy answered bluntly.

“That’s what I thought.” She gave him a smile that made him notice something else in her features, something that she didn’t have before, or at least he haven’t noticed… until now.

“Okay so you can sign those papers for me so I can go and sort this out?”

Tommy took the folder and placed his signature on the papers without even reading it. “You’re not taking off my money right?” He joked, the light mood in his voice mirrored in his eyes.

“Absolutely how do you think I’ll feed this baby?” She kept the joke going, feeling a bit better.

“Let me know how this goes.” He saw Y/N take her belongings and the papers. “Y/N how about a party to raise funds for the project? The school needs funding.”

Y/N ran her hand on the door thinking about it.

“A… fancy party?”

Tommy nodded. “With waiters and champagne and shit.” He had access now to the elite members club, people with enough money in their accounts to end poverty but selfish enough to not give away a single coin.

“Could you organize it?” He asked hiding his hands in his pockets.

“Yes, I can do that.” Excitement made her skin tingle, she had never been to a party like that, only once when Lady Winchester requested her to be by her side, but her place was to be back in the shadows, not as a guest.

“You’ll need a dress then. And some fancy shoes too.”

A dress! He had said a dress! She couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of it, she, a no body getting all dressed up to attend a rich people gathering while several weeks pregnant.

“You must not spare on anything, alright? I’ll give you a blank check so you can arrange all of it.” He explained proudly. His dreams finally materializing.

Y/N took in his success, all of the things he ever wanted, he never stopped, never complained. No, instead he focused on finding a way to do all that would take him to where he wanted to be.

His hard work and intelligence was admirable. He never relied on excuses. And despite what everyone might think of his imposing presence, he had a heart of gold and a genuine interest to help.

“Tommy?” Her soft voice pulled him out of his daydream. His blue eyes fixed on hers. “I’m so proud of you.”

She didn’t know how much her words meant to him. How he’d treasure and savor their taste… Y/N was the only person that saw him crying over his mother’s grave, she had been the one who helped him to be a part of the man he used to be when he got back from France, she heard him talk for hours of the horrors he had seen. And now she was helping him materialize his dreams, but in a very subtle way because she wasn’t impressed or interested in the luxury he could afford, she didn’t assume he’d give her everything, no, she wanted to work hard by herself to earn it. She wasn’t accepting anything more than what she thought was fair.

In a world where he could easily get confused and loose sight of what really matters, she was keeping him grounded.

“Do you want to have dinner in your office?” Y/N asked Tommy as she found him in the hall.

After looking at his clock, he guarded it safely again in his pocket, trying to keep his nerves at bay, he had a secret meeting with Churchill in a desert road, he wanted to share some more instructions about the upcoming deal with the Russians and not having total control over when and how things would happen was driving Tommy mad. This was a very delicate matter and the slightest mistake could get them all murdered in a heartbeat.

“No, actually I’ve to go.”

Touching her arm and giving her a gentle squeeze, Tommy asked her to be safe before walking outside. His vehicle roared as he exited the property and Y/N found herself eating alone in the huge dining table.

For her own safety it was better if Y/N didn’t get involved in this. Russians simply didn’t care about anyone, they were fucking mad. He had been actually considering asking Y/N to go somewhere else safe, but knowing her the way he did, she’d take it badly, as if he was trying to get rid of her.

Y/N glanced at the window, it was dark. But she knew it wasn’t her place to ask anything else. Where could he go at this time of the night? With who?

As much as her bond was so close to Tommy, she needed to realize they weren’t stitched or glued to each other and Tommy generally was extremely reserved about his private affairs.

Being alone made Y/N feel miserable and sad, her whole days were filled with lots of people at the Shelby Company Ltd, or the tea time with her grandma at the Garrison or the moments she shared with Tommy once they arrived at Arrow House. So now being by herself it felt so different…so lonely.

“Mary could you please prepare a tea for me?” Y/N asked politely after finishing her dinner.

“I only serve Mr. Shelby ma’am.” The maid added before walking away.

In a few words, she made very clear that Y/N’s presence wasn’t as welcomed as she thought. And her loyalty was reserved for her master, not his unwelcome guest. So without another word, Y/N picked up her dirty dishes and brought it downstairs.

“Miss Y/LN what are you doing?” Asked one of the maids as the chef wiped his hands with his apron.

“I’m going to wash these.” Y/N stated firmly, voice close to break after the humiliating moment she went through with Mary.

If things were as they should be, Y/N would be working under Mary’s supervision.

“Absolutely not, let me handle this.” Gently, the maid retrieved the items and gave the pregnant woman a look. “Can I help you with anything else? Some desert?”

Y/N shook her head. “No, thanks. Where’s the kettle?” She asked instead. This place was huge and there was a walk-in pantry and everything was organized meticulously.

“This is because of Mary right?” Y/N fixed her eyes on the young girl. “What did she do?” But then she placed her hand on her lips, as if trying to say she messed up. “Apologies I shouldn’t have.”

“No, it’s fine… it’s not like I’m Mrs. Shelby.” She sighed and twisted nervously the bow at the front of her blouse. “She reminded me of my place in this house, that’s all.”

The young maid exploded. “She thinks she’s better than the rest of us, just because she’s in charge of everything.”

Y/N studied her features, noticing her reaction was genuine.

“She’s always criticizing the way I do my job, it’s never good enough. And Mr. Shelby doesn’t even care…”

“I know this isn’t my business.” The chef caught her attention. “But she had been complaining about you to every member of the staff, she doesn’t understands why she has to attend you and do things for you when you’re not married to Mr. Shelby.” Duncan explained as he cleaned the stove.

“Oh I’ve heard her plenty of times too, you should talk to Mr. Shelby.” The kind maid suggested.

But Y/N shook her head and thanked the woman for preparing a tea for her. “No, I’m not here to cause Tommy more trouble. And he needs Mary to take care of everything.”

All of this was because Mary had very inflexible thoughts about premarital sex, she was always murmuring “this offends the Lord… or Lord forgive them for that.” So with Y/N being pregnant and living with a man without being married, this was a sin. Y/N was a sinner and in her eyes, she didn’t deserve even a bloody cup of tea.

“Thanks for the tea and the company. I’m sure Tommy wouldn’t mind if you got to have some rest early, all the chores pending can be done in the morning.” Y/N gave them both a smile and rushed upstairs to her bedroom.

The place was huge and she made sure to lock her door, a constant fear of some intruder breaking into the mansion made her feel uneasy. Tommy had a bunch of enemies after all, they wouldn’t care about harming her or her baby just to get to Tommy.

It was too late now to regret anything, it wouldn’t change the course of things. But sitting on the ottoman by the window, she let her mind wander to think of her baby, to imagine if would it be a girl or a boy?

She wondered how would it feel the kicks and her baby would like to hear her singing a lullaby to sleep. Polly already warned her that she’d buy a stroller and a crib for when the baby is born and her grandmother was already knitting some shoes and a blanket. Esme promised to give her a box full of clothes of all sizes so she could choose what to keep, each gesture kept touching her heart, to realize how generous they all were to her, never making her feel bad or unwelcome. She would make sure to let her baby know of all the love that surrounded them even before the birth.

Y/N knew that sometimes blood means nothing sadly, but life always brings a good group of people to replace the others.

But thankfully her baby would’ve lots of arms to cuddle on and a loving chosen family to rely on.

Part 6

Master list

Thank you so much for reading ! ✨🥰 I hope you like this part, as usual, your words is what keeps this going xx

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[dinums]

The Unexpected Visit

Thomas Shelby x Reader.

Summary: A Filipina woman accidentally travelled back in time. There, she began to work for the Shelbys

Part 2

"Hurry up! We're going to be late for your birthday celebration!" My best friend, Ava, shouted down the hall, prompting me to respond in the same hurried tone.

"Alright! Just give me a moment!"

I looked at myself in the mirror, feeling a sense of satisfaction as I admired my appearance. I was wearing a stylish black and white dress that fell just below my knees, with a white bow tie adorning my hair. My makeup was flawlessly done, accentuating my features.

"Shit, ang ganda ko," I murmured to myself. After securing a job as an animator and starting a new life in the United States, I was finally able to enjoy the fruits of my labor. This was where I would find happiness. Despite missing my home country, the Philippines, the familiar places there held too many painful memories that I preferred to leave behind.

Everything was supposed to go smoothly, until it didn't. From the far corner of my room, I caught a glimpse of someone—a dark figure—watching me. A chill ran down my spine, and my body instinctively went into fight-or-flight mode. Without a second thought, I fled from my room, convinced that the figure was pursuing me. It emitted a sinister laugh, filling the air with an eerie presence. Was this what my mother had warned me about?

---

"Puta... tangina, tangina! Ava, where's Ava?" These thoughts raced through (Y/N)'s mind as she ran, desperately searching for her friend while panic consumed her. As she neared the stairs, she could swear that the figure was still chasing her. In her haste, she stumbled and began to fall, but just as she was about to hit the ground, a blinding light engulfed everything.

---

On a quiet evening in the streets of Watery Lane, Birmingham, Thomas Shelby lay in his bed, lost in thought, cigarette in hand. Suddenly, the drawers started opening, and the air seemed to thin. The entire house shook, as if an earthquake were rocking the foundations. Thomas swiftly grabbed his gun, prepared to confront any potential enemy lurking in the darkness of the night. It felt as if the very earth were tearing apart at the seams. He was about to call for his family when a brilliant flash of white light blinded him, causing him to shield his eyes and turn away.

A loud crash followed, accompanied by the sound of a woman's voice. Thomas, now disoriented, cautiously approached the source of the disturbance, gun still aimed at the woman who had appeared in his home. She seemed panicked, her eyes darting around as she struggled to get to her feet, wincing in pain. It appeared that she had injured her leg, possibly a sprain, which forced her to remain seated on the floor.

Their eyes met, and the woman's breath seemed to catch in her throat. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at the gun pointed at her. With trembling hands raised in self-defense, she stammered, "Who the hell are you, eh?" Thomas questioned her, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. This woman was unlike any he had encountered before.

"M-me? (Y/N), my name... (Y/N). Please, can you... I don't... the..." Her words faltered as Thomas took a step closer, the gun still pointed at her. Overwhelmed, she broke down, crouching on the floor, averting her gaze. If she were to die, she would rather not see it coming.

As the door opened, she looked up and saw a woman and two other men entering. When her eyes met theirs and then returned to Thomas, the woman spoke up, moving to disarm him.

---

"Jesus, Tom! What are you doing to this poor lady?!" I heard the woman exclaim after the gun was taken away from him. I let out a sigh of relief. Tom, as the man was called, pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated. The two other men seemed to be stifling their laughter, although it was difficult to discern as everything started to blur, as if the room were spinning.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself in bed, still in the same room as before—at least from what I could remember. As I surveyed my surroundings, I realized I was still wearing the dress, although the bows in my hair were gone. When I attempted to get up, the door opened, revealing the woman from earlier. In her right hand, she carried a tray with tea.

"Don't. You'll hurt yourself," she cautioned, pointing at my ankle. I nodded, and asked, "Can you tell me where I am...? Can I go home? Please..."

"You're in Small Heath. Thomas said you appeared out of thin air. How did that happen?" she responded.

"What year is it?"

"1919."

Small Heath, in 1919? That was far away from home, possibly evenin a different era altogether. It seemed impossible for me to have traveled there in the blink of an eye, let alone through time itself. Sensing my confusion, the woman tried to reassure me. She set the tray of tea on the bedside table and introduced herself as Polly Gray. I nodded in acknowledgment and placed the cup of tea on my lap.

"You're not from around here, are you?" Polly asked, her gaze lingering on the tea leaves in my cup.

"No, I'm not," I replied. She clicked her tongue, taking the cup from me and placing it back on the tray.

"Are you a Gypsy?" she inquired.

"No, I'm not," I repeated. I was starting to feel a glimmer of hope that Polly might be able to help me find my way back home. However, instead of directly answering my question, she posed one of her own.

"Can you read? Are you good with numbers?"

"I can read and do math. Why?"

"If you're going to stay here, you might as well work for us," Polly suggested, her tone implying that she had more to say on the matter.

"Why do you want to help me?" I asked but only got silence in return. The unexpected turn of events had left me bewildered, but I knew I had to gather my wits and adapt to this new reality. Working for Polly and her associates seemed like the only option available to me at the moment. Maybe, just maybe, they could provide me with the answers I sought and help me find a way back home.

"I'll work for you"

"Good."

////

It had been precisely one month and four days since I had become a part of the Shelby family. Despite initial reservations and a sense of distrust, Polly graciously took me under her wing. The other members of the family had an unspoken understanding not to pry into certain events that were yet to happen in their lives, acknowledging that I possessed knowledge of the future. However, that didn't stop some of them, particularly Finn, from asking what it was like. It was a joy to share stories with the young boy, and I was grateful that they kept my arrival in Small Heath a secret, creating a story on how I got up here, to not make the townsfolk ask questions, but then again who would ask the Shelby family questions?

In the present moment, I found myself inside the bustling betting shop, surrounded by a lively crowd. My responsibilities included tallying numbers, verifying receipts, and handling money and the transactions that came with it. The work was demanding, but it provided me with a sense of purpose, a distraction.

Across the room, John stood by the blackboard, inscribing odds while announcing them loudly for all to hear. Meanwhile, Arthur and Thomas had stepped out for a while, leaving Polly and me to manage the shop, with Ada looking after Finn.

"Mas maganda siguro kung animator nalang ako... or if I had a calculator here," I mused to myself, finishing up the last part of my work and giggling at the thought.

"A calculator? What's that?" I heard John's familiar voice as he approached me, a toothpick dangling from his mouth.

"It's- er, a device that helps you with calculations—counting, subtracting, multiplying, and even dividing numbers," I explained.

"Even the big ones?" John asked, curiosity evident in his eyes.

"Even the big ones," I confirmed, a hint of amusement in my voice.

Our conversation was abruptly interrupted when a bloodied Arthur burst into the shop, sending panic through the air. Everyone was ordered to leave, and Polly swiftly took charge, guiding Arthur to the house connected to the betting shop. Ada and John exchanged concerned glances, and I hurriedly joined them, mindful of my sprained ankle. I grabbed a clean cloth to help with Arthur's wounds, while Ada rushed to fetch a bucket of water.

Word seemed to spread quickly, and soon Thomas barged into the house, a bottle of alcohol in hand. He took the cloth from me, and I sat there, observing the scene. Conversations and typical sibling banter filled the air as Arthur and Ada exchanged words, while John and I simply watched them. Arthur began to explain how Inspector Campbell had asked him to assist with a robbery, recounting the encounter. Lost in my own thoughts, I couldn't help but voice my concerns.

"Will you help him? I mean, I wouldn't want to even think of helping a man who beat and bruised me... but..." I trailed off, realizing that all eyes were on me.

"Sorry, please continue," I quickly added.

"We don't help coppers," John stated firmly beside me.

Arthur continued, "He knew all about our war record... said we were patriots like him. I told him we'd take a family meeting and vote."

Knowing this was turning into Family business, I quietly saw myself out, going back to the betting shop to try and do extra work to keep myself busy. Despite the trust I had gained from the family, I understood that certain matters were their own to handle. It was their business, and I respected their boundaries.

///

My mind couldn't seem to shake off the lingering thoughts from our conversation. It had been a good thirty minutes, yet I couldn't help but wonder if the Shelby family would truly help that man with the robbery. After all, how could they trust someone who had beaten one of their own? The situation seemed precarious at best.

"Sana talaga bumalik na ako. Mas masaya siguro ako kung animator na lang ako... please, Lord, babait na ako kung ibabalik niyo lang ako..." I quietly murmured to myself, longing for the familiarity of my previous life.

"What are you blabbering about, eh?" a gruff voice interrupted my thoughts. I looked up to find Thomas standing before me, a quizzical expression on his face. I raised an eyebrow at him, which seemed to amuse him.

"You haven't apologized since the first time we met," I said, a hint of amusement in my voice.

"And you haven't told me what you said," he replied, curiosity piqued.

"It was a curse. I was cursing you to make a bad decision for pointing a gun at me," I snickered.

A moment of silence passed between us before we both chuckled. "So maybe it isn’t a curse... I was actually wishing to go back home. I even asked the Lord. I told Him that if He took me back, I would be nicer. I just think it would be nice if I could work as an animator. After all, I studied to become one after everything," I confessed, grateful for the Shelby family for taking me in and caring for me in their own ways.

To my surprise, Arthur and I discovered a shared love for drawing. It became apparent when he noticed me doodling one day, and he revealed that he used to love drawing horses. We began to draw together from time to time, he even thought me a few things or so.

Thomas, on the other hand, was more reserved. We didn't have much in common, but whenever I spoke in my native language, he would ask questions about its meaning. He also showed patience when I acted differently, allowing me to talk to him in a more casual manner over time.

John, being closer to my age, was a friendly presence. He had a boisterous personality, and I appreciated having someone to distract me from the noises in my head, a breath of fresh air in this intense environment.

Ada was easy to get along with. She lent me some of her clothing and was always open to conversation. She reminded me of my friends back home, particularly Ava.

Polly and I had a relationship reminiscent of the one I shared with my mother. At first, it felt like walking on thin air, but as I diligently carried out my duties and refrained from meddling in their affairs, she began to open up. She treated me like her own, and when I mentioned the similarities between her tea leaf reading and the practices of lbularyos or witch doctors, she encouraged me to share more.

And now, here I sat with Thomas Shelby himself. Thomas, who stayed quiet for most parts. His presence made me feel like I should continue talking.

"You lot can speak a different language too, right? Maybe you can teach me so that when I go back, I can make an impression, hm?" I suggested, which made him quirk a brow

"Then you'll have to teach me yours too, so it'll be fair, eh?" he replied with a smile and a shake of his head. Jackpot.

"Sure. Speaking of learning, do you know how I got good with numbers?" I asked, looking at him intently. It was just the two of us in the betting shop now, giving me the freedom to share. He then sat down next to me. Taking his gesture as an invitation to keep talking, I continued.

"When I was seven years old, my parents enrolled me in a program, a math center. It took me eight years to complete the whole program!" I explained, shivering at the memories.

"You didn't go to school?" he inquired.

"Oh, I did. I attended school while also studying math at that center. By the time I was sixteen, I was juggling school subjects like statistics, probabilities, and calculus, along with history lessons about my country... all that stuff. Later on, I learned animation, which gave me something to do, something I enjoyed."

"What do you do in animation?" Thomas asked, my face seemed to look very excited as i moved my chair closer to him, as if it wod be easy for him to be absorbing the knowledge I was about to share.

"Well," I began, a smile playing on my lips, "I draw illustrations, frame by frame. Basically, you see this?" I gestured, moving my hand as if I'm waving. He nodded in response as If my gesture wasn't obvious. "I draw something like that, people in motion, you know, like those pictures Ada goes to see. But Instead of people, its drawings. That was my job."

"And you can't do that now?" Thomas questioned, curiosity evident in his voice.

"Well...its easier to do it digitally," I explained, trying to find the right words to describe the concept, I used my hands, waving them in the air as if it would help the situation. Seeing his puzzled expression, I sighed and admitted defeat. "You know... its like this technology. It's hard to explain, to be honest. It's giving me a headache just thinking about it."

Thomas nodded, tilting his head slightly to indicate that he had listened to my explanation. After awhile more, we both stood up

"I've go to go, somewhere I need to be"

"Oh? Did my curse work? You're off to make a bad decision?" I joked which earned me another smile and a shake of his head.

"Maybe tomorrow, Do you drink?"

"That depends, is there an occasion?" I asked,walking over to the window, there I realised it was already dark, we've talked throughout the afternoon.

"Just come, eh?"

"Ask me again next time and I'll agree, if we spend too much time your ears might bleed."

"Next time then."

///

///

She stayed in Thomas' room during her stay, a decision made by the family. As she headed upstairs, she spotted Polly taking care of Finn. Pausing in her task, Polly spoke up.

"Need any help?"

"No, just check on Ada for me, thank you, love," she replied, and I agreed to do so.

"Alright, goodnight, Pol."

"Goodnight, love."

Making my way upstairs, I found Ada in her room.

"Are you going to sleep? Pol asked me to check up on you," I asked, and she yawned and nodded, pushing me towards Thomas' room.

"Yeah, off to bed. You too. I can manage myself. Goodnight, (Y/N)!"

"Oh, goodnight Ada," I said before she shut the door, leaving me confused, what are you up to Ada? I walked to the bed and crawled under the covers, ready to sleep.

As I drifted off, I couldn't help but utter a quiet gratitude, "Thank you, po," to no one in particular.

---

"Pol, do you know anyone who might know a way for me to get back? I think I'm losing hope already," I asked Polly, seeking some answers. It had been quite a hectic week word of mouth saying Thomas shooting someone, Mr. Campbell raiding homes of communists, Ada's pregnancy, and Thomas picking a fight with the Lee family.

"Oh, love. Just a little longer, hm? You'll go back. I'm sure of it," Polly said, her words providing temporary comfort. I had grown attached to the Shelby family, and the thought of leaving without knowing their fate weighed heavily on my mind.

"You know, Poll, I'm scared. If I do leave, then what about you guys? I won't ever get to see you all again... I won't know how you guys are doing unless I can read it from history books. I won't know how to help," I confessed, my voice filled with concern.

She took my hand in hers, offering reassurance. "Don't worry, love. Just give us a proper goodbye, and we'll be fine, alright?"

"I'll miss you if I do go," I admitted, a touch of sadness in my voice.

"We'll miss you too," she replied, understanding my worries.

---

That night, I decided to stay up late. I sat in the kitchen, working on a few doodles on a piece of paper. I drew frogs, horses, Polly, Ada, and Finn. The door swung open, revealing a drenched Thomas holding a bottle of whiskey.

"Woah," I exclaimed, surprised by his sudden entrance.

"A drink?" he offered, though his tone felt more like an order than an invitation. Remembering my promise, I grabbed two glasses and placed them on the table as he poured a drink for both of us.

"So, rough day? What happened this time?" I asked, curious to hear the events that had happened, though by the looks of it, thos wasn't a good one.

"I shot a horse," he replied. My eyes widened, my mouth agape, silently urging him to continue.

"It looked at me the wrong way, so I..." he trailed off, the weight of his actions evident in his voice.

"I look at you the wrong way most of the time. Maybe you should've done the same to me," I mumbled, moving my chair closer to him. He sighed, taking a swig of his drink.

"Back in France, I got used to seeing men die, but I never got used to seeing horses die," he confessed, his tone filled with remorse.

I nodded, taking small sips of my whiskey. "Horses, or any animals in general, they aren't like us. When we kill, it can be for so many reasons, but they do it to survive and protect. So, it's good that you feel bad about it. It makes you human. It proves you're not what you think you are."

"What do you think I am?" he questioned, curiosity lacing his words.

"You're not that far off. You're not as cold as anyone, or even yourself, perceives you to be, and that's a good thing. So, let it all out today," I encouraged, understanding the weight of his burdens.

We fell into a comfortable silence, interrupted only by the clinking of glasses as he poured himself more whiskey. After a while, I nudged him with my glass.

"I don't drink much," I confessed, offering him my glass. He took it and drank, and eventually, he began to talk again.

"Is that Polly?" he asked, pointing at the doodle I had made of her. I nodded, pointing out the other family members as well.

"I drew the people I talked to today. I guess I should draw you too, huh?" I suggested, feeling a sense of warmth in our conversation. He shrugged, turning his chair to fully face me.

"Should I stay still, then, eh?" he asked playfully.

"Nope! I've already memorized your face by now," I replied without much thought, not realizing the subtle smirk that graced his lips as I began to sketch him.

"You know, I'm glad that it was your house I accidentally traveled to. Even though it was scary at first," I shared, stealing quick glances at his drenched face to capture the details in my sketch. "Anyways, you'll catch a cold if you stay like that. When I was a kid, my parents used to throw their slippers at me from inside while I played in the rain."

"What? Would you do that to me?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Imagining the scenario, I burst into laughter. The image of me throwing slippers at Thomas in the rain seemed quite comical.

"I will if you let me."

"Maybe someday"

When I finished the sketch, I looked at it with satisfaction.

"Pogi," I murmured, using a Filipino term that meant "handsome." Though he didn't need to know that

"Pogi?" he repeated, looking at me curiously. I shook my head, realizing I had slipped into a different language.

"I said I was done," I clarified, handing him the paper with a smile. He took it, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Thank you," he whispered, barely above a breath. We both knew that those two words held multiple meanings, and despite everything, he meant them sincerely.

[dbnightingale24]

React

A Stepcest Love Story About Jim

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~~

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Hi! Remember me? I write stories! Sorry for being MIA for so long, I'll explain why in a little post a little later. Anywho, thank you so much for your support, and I hope you all think this chapter was worth the wait!

Word Count: 5,492

Warning(s) SMUT (MINORS DNI), Swearing, Emotional Cheating, Angst, Fluff, Family Drama, Forbidden Love, Crying, Drinking, Infidelity, Sneaking Around, Stepcest, Step-Daughter/Step-Father,A Ruined Christmas Dinner...uh I think that's it?

Summary: You told yourself and Jim that you were putting your foot down and putting a stop to all of it. However, after the family Christmas dinner from Hell, you start to wonder what's the point?

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I do not give permission/consent for my works/stories to get posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of relationship, this is clearly for entertainment purposes only.

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~~

Chapter 5

“You usually love Christmas,” Ciara sighs as you and her wrap Christmas presents.

“Why did I agree to this? This is so fucking stupid. I haven’t seen him in months, and I should’ve just kept it that away,” you huff, throwing your gift for his daughter to the side. 

“Babe-”

“I have to see them together which, fine okay, my fault, but still. I shouldn’t be this angry and jealous, but I am,” you practically growl. 

You and Jim hadn’t seen each other since he left after the week you told him he needs to get back with your Mother. You both really have done your best to limit your contact, but you’re so weak. You cracked first.

“Everythin’ okay, Angel?” Jim asked frantically once he answered the phone.

“I’m...are ya doin’ something?”

“Are you okay?”

“I just...I miss you,” you confessed softly.

“I miss you too,” he sighed heavily, “but this was your-”

“I know, love. I know. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

He was for a moment before he asked, “how was your first month back?”

“I can’t wait to be done with it,” you laughed softly as you started to pace in your room.

“Angel?”

“Yeah?”

“I really miss you.”

“I really miss you, too.”

He let out a heavy sigh before he followed up with, “I love you. I love you so much.”

You clenched your eyes shut and rubbed the right side of your forehead, before you responded with, “I love you too, baby. With all of my heart.”

You’d honestly done all you could to keep things from going back to how they were, but Jim was persistent. 

“I just want to spend a few days with ya, Angel,” he sighed into the phone, and you could tell that he was pacing.

You two were always pacing when you were on the phone with each other.

“You know you can’t! We have to stop doing this! She’ll find out and all hell will break loose!”

“Then let her find out! I want to be with you! We both want to be together-”

“Jim, she’s my Mother. I can’t just act like this isn’t horribly selfish and wrong!”

“I never said it wasn’t, I just don’t understand we can’t pursue it. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but staying with her to spare her feelings, is just as bad as what we’ve already done!”

You hate that he made a valid point.

“No Jim, this is over. It’s done. We both have to stop.”

He let out a heavy sigh before he told you, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” and hung up before you had a chance to protest.

When you got back to your dorm the following day, he was standing right outside your door with a bouquet of red roses in hand.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you muttered, as both elation and heartbreak washed over you.

“I needed to see you.”

“No, you wanted to see me.”

“Why do you keep doin’ this? We’re in love-”

“I can’t do this to her!”

“Ya already have!”

“Jim, if ya really don’t wanna be with her, then leave her but you can’t be with me.”

“Angel-”

“We talked about this already-”

“And what happened the next night?”“Jim,” you scowled as you unlocked your door and both quickly made your way inside.

“And who started it?” he pressed as he placed the flowers on your desk.

“That’s why I said we both have to stop. I know I sent you the pictures, and I’m the one that called you. I’m sorry, okay? I really am, because I say one thing then do another, because you’re right: I’m in love with ya and I want to be with you. However, I have to stop being selfish. We both do.”

“We’ve already crossed the line, Angel,” he whispered softly as he closed the space between you two. “We’ve crossed it a lot and in every way you can. I don’t want just ya body, I want you, Angel. Every part of you, every fuckin’ day.”

“Jim, we have to stop. This isn’t good for either of us, and it’s not healthy. We can’t be together,” you whispered, looking everywhere except for at him. 

He focused your gaze on him and looked you over, “we can do whatever we want.”

Damn him and those blue eyes.

He had you naked and on your back in no time. You kept saying you would stop, but he just made it so damn hard. Especially when he was in front of you. To make it worse, when everything was all said and done, he was so gentle and sweet with you.

“We can tell her together, if you’re afraid of doing this alone,” he offered before he kissed your bare shoulder.

“Jim, why don’t you see how wrong this is?”

“I told you before that I do, but I also know how much I love you. How much we love each other. It’s scary and it’s gonna hurt her, but we’ll have each other.”

“Jim-”

“I won’t leave your side when it gets tough. You know that.”

“I believe you, Jim. I honestly do, but I just can’t...in secret is one thing,” you sighed as you felt his body stiffen. “It’s not even because we both know it’s wrong and we’re sneaking, but because it’s our own world that we’re safe in. Making it known...making it public, even if you weren’t married to my Mother, it would be a fucking nightmare. Your ex-wife, your children, your friends-”

“I don’t care-”

“But you will. Especially when it comes to your children.”

“It won’t always be like this-”

“Jim, I just don’t want to hurt her. If you truly don’t want to be with her, I told you to just leave-”

“What’s the point if I can’t be with you? Angel, I’ll never stop telling you that you’re the only one for me, because you’ll always be the only one for me. I don’t say this stuff so you’ll keep opening your legs for me. I love everything about you, the good and the bad parts. You don’t hide the darker sides of you from me, you let me in, you accept me, you’re warm and welcoming...I can go on.”

“Jim...” you sobbed softly, and he softly wiped away your tears with the tip of his thumb.

“It’s goin’ to be hard, but we can do this. We’ll make it,” he promised with a silent confidence.

In those moments, it was so hard to think straight. Whenever you were with him, you could see a future with him. One where you would be happy and content. To make matters worse, when you got to your dorm after your classes the next day, he was waiting in your room. Writing away while a Dexy’s Midnight Runners album played softly in the background. You greeted him with a kiss, which he happily returned, and you sat opposite of him on your bed and started working on your essay.

The whole thing felt so normal and domestic. As if you two did it every day. After about an hour or so, he insisted on taking you at out to dinner. He told you about what he and his kids had been up to, how work had been going, and told you how much he liked (or was completely and utterly confused by) the movies you’d told him to watch during the Summer. He then asked you about how school and your classes were going, if you’d settled on a job as well as a place to stay, and what you had been up to in your spare time.

Afterwards, he took you out of for ice cream, and you two took a walk with one arm each wrapped around each other. It felt as if were a dream. You two laughed and talked about nothing and everything, and it felt as if you two had been together for years. At the end of the night, you cuddled up to him on your bed and you watched classic films until you fell asleep.

Yes, when Jim was around, it was so easy to get lost in love and the dream. The dream life you two were sure you two could create. However, when he left, it didn’t take long for euphoric fog to lift.

“I don’t know, he seems distant again,” your Mother sighed on the phone as you poured yourself a glass of wine. “Ever since he got back from seeing his friend...I don’t know, I thought we were alright again. I even offered to go with him and he said no.”

“What does he say when you ask him?”

“Not much,” she sighed heavily again, and you could hear the pain in her voice.

It really did break your heart, and it made you hate yourself in the worst way.

“I’m tryin my best to make him happy, and I had hope that I could fix things, but...I don’t think I can make it work, my darling. He hates me,” she sobbed as you switched from the glass to the bottle. 

After that, you put a stop to everything with Jim for good. You didn’t return his texts, phone calls, you resisted the urge to hear his voice and check in on his well-being, and when you’d see him waiting for you outside of your dorm room, you’d stay in the library until you fell asleep.

You had to stop. The last text he sent you broke your heart.

My Love: I can’t make you stay and I can’t make you love me as much as I love you. I want this, Angel, and I know you do too, but I’m not gonna force ya. I’ll wait for you forever if I have to, but it’s always goin’ to be you for me. Take care of yourself and stay focused. I love you.

You cried for a month. However, you held strong (even at the darkest of times), and have been able to avoid Jim...except for now.

“Why spend the holiday alone when ya can be home with your family?” your Mother questioned merrily, and you heard her moving around the kitchen.

“I just think I should be savin’ the money-”

“I can pay for it! Jim got a raise at work and I’ve been cuttin’ back on a lot! It’ll be a good time, nothin’ like Summer!”

“Mother-”

“Jim will have his kids with him and I want mine here too. I know it was a horrible Summer, and it was my fault, but I want us to try again. All of us.”

You didn’t want to hurt her than you already had, unbeknownst to her.

“I’ll stay with Ciara-”

“Stay here at home! I’ll make your room up nice for you-”

“Mother, that’s too many people in one space-”

“Nonsense! The kids will stay downstairs in your old spare room, since they always seem to since I turned into the game room-”

“You did what?”

“I didn’t think you’d mind, because you’re never here,” she quickly defended as you swallowed down a frustrated groan.

Yes, you’re the villain in this story, but your grandparents had that room made just for you, and it felt a little insulting that she hadn’t asked.

“It’s fine, you’re right, I’m never there-”

“You’re mad-”

“I’m not mad, I’m just...it doesn’t matter, it’s fine. Still, no matter how it’s split up, it’s too many of us in-”

“Y/N, please. I really want this. It’ll be a nice time,” she promised, and you could hear the sincerity in her voice. “You can even have Ciara and her little family over. It’ll be a good time, just say you’ll come and stay.”

Fuck.

All of this is why you’re currently at Ciara’s house and frustratingly wrapping gifts.

“If you’re this upset, just tell her you’re sick-”

“No, because I’m the reason I’m so upset. If I hadn’t opened my legs for him-”

“Stop it, babe. No, it’s not right or ideal, but it’s not like there was another way this could’ve played out. She lied, treated you both like absolute shite, and you both found comfort in each other. Everyone had a part to play in this.”

“I just wanted to stay at school.”

“When do you go back?”

“In a few days, thank God.”

“You can survive these next few days, babe. I’m right here by your side.”

“Except for tonight,” you groan as you finish wrapping Jim’s gift.

“How hellbent is she on you spending the night.”

“I’ve tried to get out of it four times and she’ll hear none of it.”

“She’s really trying to make up for Summer, huh?”

“She’s trying to prove to Jim that she really is the woman he fell in love with.”

“What do you think?”

“I genuinely never know with her,” you scoff. “How fucking sad is that?”

Ciara places a gentle hand on your shoulder and gives it a squeeze, “one way or another, I promise you that it’ll be okay.”

“Alright ladies,” Darragh smiles, bouncing a very happy and Christmas ready Nora in his arms, “I do believe we are ready to go.”

“She looks so cute!” you coo, standing up and holding out your arms, to which she giggles and grabs for you too. “I missed you!” you squeal once Darragh passes her to you.

“Aunnie!” she beams before kissing your cheek.

You really do wish you had Ciara’s life.

“Ready?” he questions as he puts on his own coat.

“I guess we’ll find out,” you mutter as all of you make your way towards the door.

Somehow, you just know something is going to go wrong. You can feel in your bones that this is going to be the worst Christmas you’ve ever had.

And that’s saying a lot.

~~

“So, it’s not enough that he brought his ex-wife, but my Mother had to invite Rose? It’s barely 2 in the afternoon and she’s shit faced!” you scowl to Ciara as you both retreat to your bedroom.

“Yeah, literally the worst idea either of them could’ve had,” she mutters, taking a large sip of her drink.

Since the four of you arrived, its been nothing but absolute chaos. The food is nowhere close to being ready, your Mother isn’t paying any attention to anything because Rose came with her boyfriend of the month, the kids are hyped up on candy and are hungry along with desperate to open presents, you and Jim are avoiding each other like the plague, and you’re pretty sure his ex-wife has figured that there’s something going on between the two of by the way she keeps looking between the two of you.

You truly wish you would’ve stayed at school.

“Well, at least it’s all chaos. Maybe we’ll be able to-”

“There you are,” she’s cut off by Jim’s voice.

Fuck.

“Uh, Darragh is lookin’ for ya. Nora is bein’ fussy for her bottle-”

“Every time with this girl. I’ll be right back...it’s gonna be alright,” she promises with a weak smile before getting up and walking out.

You don’t why you expect Jim to follow.

“Are you okay?” he asks after a moment, closing the door to your bedroom.

‘Don’t do anything stupid’ you mentally scold yourself.

“It’s going about as well as I expected,” you shrug with a small laugh. “I didn’t expect you to invite your ex-”

“That wasn’t my idea,” he quickly interjects. “The kids wanted us all together. I told her she can bring her husband, but she didn’t want to for whatever reason. Trust me, I don’t want her here anymore than you do.”

“Why not?”

“There’s no reason,” he shrugs. “We have our arrangement, we get along well enough, and we speak when necessary. There’s no reason for us to spend holidays together, but ‘m not gonna tell my kids no.”

“That’s fair,” you sigh, looking down at your feet. “I didn’t think you’d still be with her by now,” you confess softly.

He’s quiet for a moment before he admits, “I stay so I can see you. You won’t see me, and I get why, but...I know it’s wrong and selfish, but it’s all that we have. All that I have.”

You stand up as you fight off tears, “we should get back downstairs-”

“Can we please just stay here a moment? I won’t touch you, I won’t try anything, and I won’t even talk to you if you don’t want, but can we please just stay here a minute?” he pleads softly.

“We shouldn’t...God, why am I cryin’?” you sob, wiping your eyes. “We’re doin’ the right thing! By stayin’ away from each other, we’re doin’ the right thing!”

“Angel, please-” “Ya can’t call me that, Jim. We can’t slip back into-’

“We wouldn’t be. We can’t slip back into something we never left. We just pretend we turned our feelings off. Neither of us actually did it.”

Damn him for being able to read you like a book.

“We should go back down. There’s no reason for us to have been gone as long as we have.”

“Can we talk tonight? I swear, we’ll just talk,” he asks quietly, and you can hear the desperation in his voice.

“What’s there left to say?”

“So much. Please, just a little bit. Danielle isn’t staying, the kids will be downstairs, your Mother will be asleep...I’ll go whenever you want me to.”

Your heart speaks before mind even has a chance to come up with an argument, “sure, Jim. Only for a little though.”

The smile that comes to his face makes your heart light up. God, you love him so much. 

“Alright, I’ll uh, I’ll get back down there and we’ll talk tonight,” he smiles before practically running out of the room and leaving you to your thoughts.

You tell yourself that you’re going to be mature about this whole thing, and you won’t react the same way you have in the past. You’ve been resisting your urges for this long, and you can keep doing it. You just have to remember who you’re doing this for and why. After reconfirming that you’ll continue to be strong about the whole thing, you take a deep breath and head back downstairs.

Only to find yourself instantly pissed off.

“I’m just so happy for you!” your Mother drunkenly squeals as she latches on to Jim, and squeezes his arm tight. “You have what Jim and I have, and I love that!” she beams as Danielle scowls from across the table, taking a long sip of wine.

Your instant emotion is anger and you don’t know why. You keep saying you want this, it’s the reason you refuse to be with Jim, and yet all you want to do is break everything in sight. 

“Mum, what’s the ETA on dinner?” you ask as nonchalantly as you can, but you can feel Jim’s eyes on you as you pour yourself a drink, and you can tell that he knows you’re furious.

“Ugh, I keep forgettin’ to season it! I’m just so happy!” she drunkenly giggles.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” you mutter, grabbing your whiskey and coke, before rushing off to the kitchen.

“I’ll join ya,” Danielle offers, and it only makes you that much more miserable.

There’s an uncomfortable silence that settles between the two of you as you season the meat, and she cuts up vegetables; the both of you drinking.

“Your Mother is a piece of work,” Danielle finally says as she put the vegetables in a bag before adding seasoning.

“That’s...a nice way of putting it,” you chuckle humorlessly, finally turning on the oven, before resuming your seasoning of the salmon and the chicken. “I’m sorry that your children have to-”

“I know Jim doesn’t allow them to be alone with her when she’s like this,” she quickly dismisses. “We may not be on the best of terms, but hes never been a bad Father.”

“I’m glad you two can stay civil for the two of them. They’re wonderful.”

“They really seem to love you. Every time they come to visit, they ask if you’ll be around.”

“We just spent a lot of time together over the Summer. My Mother being the way she was...it was nice to give them an outlet.”

“I suppose your Mother is the reason you and Jim fell in love,” she mutters as she shakes the bag.

You can’t catch a fucking break.

“I barely know Jim. They were married for a year before I even met him, let alone knew him. After the disastrous Summer I spent here...I stayed away.”

“Then why does he look at you like that? Why won’t you look at him?”

“I won’t look at him because my Mother gets drunk, then gets jealous, and I have to fix everything. I’d rather her be drunk and happy than drunk and reckless while I’m on Holiday,” you murmur as you slide the two pans of salmon into the oven.

She seems to soften a bit at that.

“I’m sorry, I just...I know that look Jim gets, and I get why your Mother would get jealous, honestly. Everyone seems to like you, you’re extremely smart from what I’ve heard your Mother say, the kids love you and they say you’re insanely kind and funny, you’re beautiful, and...as the ex and an older woman, I get it. You’re what we fear. Hell, that’s what happened with he and I. He found a younger model,” she scowls, dumping the cut up vegetables in the greased pan and standing back as they sizzle.

You’ve got to hand it Jim for being able to keep a secret for so long, because the fact that Danielle still doesn’t know that Yvonne was the one he was cheating with has you genuinely amazed. 

“I shouldn’t have just accused you like that, and I’m sorry,” she smiles weakly.

Does universe not think you feel guilty enough? Fucks sake. 

“It’s truly okay, I understand. These events are always...a lot to deal with,” you laugh softly. “It’s brave of you to be here.”

“Well, the fallout from the divorce was bad and it’s the least I can do. I know they miss us all bein’ together. It’s just one day.”

“Why didn’t you bring-”

“He and Jim...they don’t get along. He met him at a family friend’s funeral and they got into a fight. Jim attacked him,” she scoffs, mixing around the vegetables in the skillet. 

Jim had told you about it.

“Ah, I completely understand,” you laugh softly, taking the chicken out of the beer batter and throwing it into the frying pan.

“Anythin’ I can do to help?” Jim asks, making his way inside and rubbing his hands together.

You don’t miss the way Danielle looks him over. She’s still in love with and misses him. God, why does Jim have to make all of you so crazy?

“I think we’re all good in here,” Danielle smiles towards you, and you nod.

“You can start settin’ up for dinner if you want, but it’s gonna take a bit,” you promise as you start cutting up potatoes.

“Any drinks need to be refilled?”

“We’re all fine here, Jim. You can relax,” Danielle promises with a faux smile. 

All of this is killing her.

Jim just nods before giving you a small smile and making his way out.

“I won’t tell her, ya know. That you still love him,” you promise her softly before taking a sip of your drink as you flip over the chicken.

“Hmm? Tell who-”

“Ya don’t have to play coy with me, and I don’t blame ya. My Mother didn’t even contemplate trying to change for the better until she met Jim,” you chuckle humorlessly. “You two had your whole lives to look forward together, and then you didn’t. Love doesn’t just go away because you want it to. Trust me, I know.”

“Yeah, I can see why the kids love ya,” she chuckles with a head nod and you laugh. “How do ya get it to crisp so perfectly?” she asks as you take the chicken out of the frying pan. 

Soon enough, you’re both lost in conversation about some of the tricks and recipes your Grandmother taught you, and it’s almost enough to make you forget the pain and guilt you feel. It’s not enough for you to hate yourself over what you did, but now (in some weird way), you feel guilty about maintaining some sort of friendship/relationship with Danielle. 

By the time dinner is finally ready, you have a buzz and you desperately just want to go back and hide in your dorm room.

“Jim and I are so happy you all could be here for tonight’s special dinner,” your Mother beams, slur apparent as she raises her glass.

You could kick down a door you’re so angry.

“It’s by no means traditional and, it’s been a bit bumpy to get to this road,” she smiles towards you with a nod, “but we got here. We’re together as a real family.”

You squeeze Ciara’s hand under the table and you hear her stifle a laugh, which brings a small smile to your face.

“I’d really like to thank My Little Darling and Danielle for putting together this amazing feast, because I was too caught up with Rose and Jim,” she giggles and you roll your eyes. “Anyway, I’m dragging all of this out much longer than I should be,” she laughs, gaining a few laughs from Rose and her boyfriend, along with a small and awkward smile from Jim. “I love you all and Happy Christmas,” she sheepishly smiles with a nod.

“Happy Christmas!” everyone cheers, raising their own glasses (or cups of juice).

“Aunnie!” Nora cries for you as she reaches out for you while in Darragh’s hold.

“What’s wrong, Little Love,” you coo as Ciara hands her to you, along with her food.

She giggles and smiles once she’s in your arms, giving you a small kiss on the cheek.

“I’ve missed you too,” you giggle kissing her cheek, while scooping some mashed potatoes onto her small spoon. “We’re gonna eat.”

“Yeah!”

She’s by all means, Ciara’s child. 

“You’re so good with her,” Jim comments, a genuine smile on his face he watches the both of you, and your heart flutters a bit.

“I just let her lead the way. It won’t always be this easy,” you laugh, trying to avoid his gaze.

“It’s never this easy,” Ciara scoffs, “just stay in Dublin.”

“Stay in Dublin? Where else would you go?” your Mother chimes in, dropping her fork.

You and Ciara exchange a look, and Ciara is desperately screaming ‘I’m sorry!’ with her eyes. So, much for a happy Christmas.

“Nothin’, I’ve just been lookin for a place to live-”

“You’ve been lookin’ in Dublin, right?”

“I’ve been lookin at what I can afford. You inherited a house, I didn’t. The cost of living right now-”

“You should want to stay close to family!”

“Mum, it’s Christmas. We’ve had a really nice day, and I really want to keep it that way. Nothing is set in stone and we still have time.”

“I just don’t understand why ya want to be far.”

Of course she doesn’t.

“We can talk about it another time, lets just enjoy the rest of the day. We haven’t even gotten to the presents yet,” you try to encourage.

“If you lived far, would you still come for a visit when we’re here?” Alannah questions innocently, but you don’t miss the way your Mother rolls her eyes.

“Of course I will, but I don’t know what my next move is, honestly. I haven’t even decided on a job,” you laugh awkwardly as you feed Nora more potatoes.

“Of course they want you to come back,” your Mother scowls, as she picks up her fork.

“Please, can we not do this on Christmas? It’s been a really nice dinner-”

“Of course you make your Mother upset and don’t wanna deal with it,” Rose chimes in, and you quite literally bite your tongue to keep from cursing her out.

“Kids, guess what’s always been a Christmas tradition,” Darragh interrupts, being quick on his feet as he stands up and grabs his plate, “dinner in the TV room!”

He didn’t have to say anything else. Both kids are up and running before he has a chance to turn and take Nora into his arms, who whines in protest. All of a sudden, it’s just you, Ciara, Jim, Danielle, Rose, and her boyfriend.

“Well, if you have somethin’ to fuckin say, lets fuckin’ hear it then,” you snap at Rose who looks both shocked and taken aback by your words.

“This past Summer, you came home and acted like you owned the damn place!”

“So, her getting drunk off of her ass every night, yelling at both Jim and I over things that were her own doing, you encouraging it, and us having to carry her up the steps, and much more was my fault?” you scoff as you dig your fork into your salmon.

“You always make her feel awful-”

“Y/N wasn’t even going to come home!” Ciara snaps, and you know that all hopes for a peaceful night have gone out the window. “She was going to stay with me, and your best friend begged her to stay here! She begged her to stay here, just to drop a fuckin’ bombshell on her, then got pissy when her true personality got exposed! How is that on Y/N?! Now, you’re going to give her a hard time for not wanting to be anywhere near you at all?! How can you blame her? You two have always treated her like shite! Never takin’ care of her, always makin’ her look after the both of you! Then, your little pretend personalities faded away, and you needed to blame someone for someone else realizing that you two are worthless! No wonder Jim was thinking about leaving Y/M/N!” she snaps and you quickly squeeze her hand. “Fuck,” she scoffs softly.

“You told her?!” your Mother questions, suddenly very interested in the argument at hand.

“I had to tell someone-”

“You little-”

“All I’ve ever wanted to do was make you truly happy! I’ve tried and tried, time and time again, my entire life to please you! To be looked at like I’m not someone you despise! Yet, no matter what I do, it’s never been enough for ya! I can’t figure out for the life of me, what the hell is so wrong with me, that ya can’t just love me for me, but I’ve stopped tryin’! Ya keep forcin’ together all these pieces that don’t fit, then blame me when it all goes wrong! You made me feel horrible for not wantin’ to be here, and then you made me feel horrible for bein’ here! Yes, I told my best friend, because I had no one else to turn to! Least of all you, Mum!” you snap, quickly wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

“I’ve tried my best to fix all the things-”

“You haven’t tried to do a single fuckin’ thing!” Ciara snaps. “Even now, who saved the day when ya came up short? Y/N. Who made sure we had dinner at decent hour? Y/N. Ya drunk as shit, being a total arse with ya bestie, and she’s bein’ nicer that ya deserve! She’s always nicer than ya deserve!” she practically snarls.

“She’s the reason everythin’ is so hard! The least she can do is make herself useful when she’s around!” your Mother snaps.

You don’t even give Ciara a chance to think of a response on your behalf. Instead, you get up and storm to the entry way, quickly pulling on and buttoning your plaid peacoat while stepping into your boots, and storming out.

You don’t have a particular destination in mind, you just know you need to get away from everyone before you do and/or say something stupid. She couldn’t just let Christmas be decent? Yeah, you’ve done horrible shit behind her back, but (once again) she’s the one who begged you to come and stay with her. She’s the one who said this would be nothing like Summer. Yet, here you are at a liquor store, feeling just as miserable as you did over the Summer.

“Fed up with ya family too, eh?” the man laughs, handing you back the bottle of whiskey you picked up after he scanned it.

“I’m always fed up with my family,” you scoffs and he lets out a small laugh. “Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas, a ghrá,” he nods with a soft smile.

No, you have no idea where you’re headed. You just know, like always, that you’d rather be anywhere but home.

~~

[cherrycranes]

Real Cowgirls Ride (Emmett x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Emmett (A Quiet Place 2) x Fem!Reader Summary: When you go to a bar in upstate New York with your girlfriends for a bachelorette party, you encounter a hot rugged man who´ll teach you how to ride like a real cowgirl. Word count: 4,248 Contents: (Minors DNI). No apocalypse AU. Age gap (Reader is 24, Emmett is 39), Oral sex (fem receiving), a little bit of ass licking (fem receiving), fingering, P in v, protected sex! Author's notes: Once more, a collab with @fuckiingloser cause that's my wifey. Mandatory "english is not my first language" disclaimer. Enjoy the ass licker.

It was the first time you ever stepped a foot in this rural upstate New York town. Certainly an interesting choice for a bachelorette party, but your friend: the bride, and her future husband had grown up here. It was nice, though. A very appreciated change of scenery from your busy downtown New York City life. It had been a 3 hour drive to get here, and you planned to just have a good time.

The party had a cowgirl theme and you had gone all out: a borrowed pair of red cowgirl boots that you had never imagined wearing in your life, a pair of dangerously tiny Daisy Duke jean shorts and a white cropped t-shirt that said “Budweiser” across the front. All topped with a matching cowboy hat sitting on top of your head. Your girlfriends showered you with compliments, you played the part so well.

It was around 11:30 pm now, and after several stops of the bar crawl, you all walked into a smoky, dark dive bar. The neon signs gave the entire room a dull glow. It was moderately full, mostly with old blue collar men tired from a long day's work. Some of them gave your group a few stares that only your tipsy state managed to ignore. You had come here for fun, and that’s what you would have. 

You got a big table, ordered some drinks and shots and cheered for the bride, wishing her all the best with the love of her life. And, in secret, you hopelessly wished that you would find yours too… You were painfully single at 24 and your only one previous boyfriend had cheated on you after a year of dating. You were still young but loneliness stung.

To distract yourself, you ordered a few more shots and just went along with the vibe of the bar and your friends’ laughter. Some moments later, you wandered over to the old school jukebox that sat alone on a dark corner to flip through the endless pages of song options. Some you knew, some you didn’t, and one you picked before a rugged voice behind you interrupted you:

“Excuse me, miss...” You turned to look. “I just have to have a look at these fancy red cowgirl boots up close...” The man in front of you said with a charming little smirk and with his baby blue eyes looking down at your feet, then at your legs, your body and, eventually, meeting your eyes. 

You looked him over too, with his plain white t-shirt, blue wrangler jeans, dusty work boots, scruffy beard with a few silver strands in it and a ball cap with some brown curls peeking out underneath it. Quite handsome. His little excuse to come over and talk to you was pathetic but cute, it had made you smirk a little. And when you looked into his beautiful eyes and saw that pretty smile again, you decided to give him a shot.

“Honestly… My buddies over there were givin’ me a hard time and said that I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t say something to the pretty girl in the red cowboy boots...” He gestured over to his friends in the booth in the other corner who gave you a wave and smile. You turned back to look at him, and gave yourself the luxury of eyeing him up and down again. He was definitely older than you, but not exactly old enough to be your father. He must have been in his early 40’s at most. He was sort of rugged, most likely a blue collar man. Some tattoos poked out from under the sleeve of his t-shirt. He was not the type of guy you were used to encountering in New York City. “I'm Emmett..” He smirked, and you chuckled a bit at his words.

“Hate to break the news but I borrowed these from a friend… I’m not a real country girl.” You admitted with a smile. Emmett laughed softly and leaned against the almost forgotten jukebox.

 “Well… They look good on you either way… That’s for sure…” He looked over your body once more, shameless infatuation irradiating from him. His boldness made you smile again, and admittedly, it also turned you on. Like clockwork, the first notes of the song you picked started to play and Emmett gave you an approving smile.

“Good choice… You’ve got good taste obviously… Would you like to dance, beautiful?” He asked, his voice like velvet in your ears. You felt a sweet heat rush to your cheeks and you nodded.

“I'd like that.” You smiled and he took your hand with a gentleness that was to die for, pulling you closer and wrapping his strong arms around your waist. In return, you wrapped your arms around his neck and followed him along. Butterflies flew in your stomach like they hadn’t in so long when his arms tightened around you.

You chatted a little, dancing slowly in the middle of the dive bar with his rough hands rubbing the exposed skin of your back. In the background of the slow song, you could make out the voices and giggles of your friends who must have been staring in amusement and support. 

In between the small conversations and the dance, you found out Emmett owned a farm nearby. Mostly horses and some crops. You also found out he was 39 years old. Never married, currently single. Then it came time for questions about your life, your work, your age, where were you from…

“Ahh, so you’re a city girl, makes sense… Never seen someone as hot as you around here before...” Emmett whispered, still swaying with you and still holding you tight. You blushed, something not everybody did to you, but there was something about him. His looks, his charm, his rough hands. You couldn't help yourself.

Guided by that feeling, you kept talking. Now telling him about your failed relationship, your cheater ex-boyfriend and your 8 month-long singlehood. Emmett’s brow furrowed upon hearing that.

“Fuckin’ asshole… Who would ever wanna lose you? You need a real man… Not a little immature boy..” He whispered, shaking his head gently and tightening his tattooed arm around you ever so slightly, just for the butterflies in your stomach to go even wilder. 

Your song ended and the jukebox went silent. Emmett immediately asked to buy you a drink, and how would you even say no? Next thing you knew, you were sitting on a barstool with him standing in front of you, a hand on your thigh making you swoon. He leaned over to order, the scent of his almost worn-off cologne sending more heat towards the right places.

“Two miller lites please, thanks.. ” The bartender cracked open two beers and pushed them towards Emmett. He handed you one along with a sly smile, his other hand still on your thigh.

“Well… Cheers to a good night that I'm hoping gets even better.” Emmett held his drink up to yours and clicked them together with a nice melodic sound. 

“Cheers.” You chuckled, arousal pooling in your lower abdomen and burning steady for the entire time you and Emmett talked and flirted in between sips. Some guilt crept up on you at having practically abandoned your girlfriends, but every quick glance towards them made you find them winking and putting their thumbs up. So you focused back on Emmett, laughed at his jokes, touched his arm, gave him your best smile…

“Can’t believe a pretty girl like you is interested in an old man like me.” He rubbed his hand softly on your exposed thigh, and you couldn't help but let out a sincere chuckle.

“You're hotter than any guy I've met in the city by a million honestly… A real man who works with his hands and knows what he wants and isn’t shy about it…” Every word of yours was soaked in a sensual tone and your eyes never looked away from him now. He had the most beautiful pale blue eyes you had ever seen, his pupils were long dilated from looking at you, and they seemed to get even more when he heard you talking like that.

“Well, you sure know how to flatter a guy… I’ve gotta say you’re one of the sexiest things I've ever seen.” Emmett leaned in to whisper into your ear, his lips giving you a featherlight touch. “My hands aren’t the only thing I’m good with…” His warm breath sent a satisfying shiver down your spine. “And I do know what I want… I wanna see what’s underneath this little crop top and these tiny jean shorts…” 

Your breath hitched ever so slightly, the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. His rough hand gripped the soft flesh of your thigh firmly, the sensation, along with his words, going straight to your core and now dampened panties. 

It was 12:45 am now, the clock upon the wall ticked in front of Emmett’s eyes with an eager question. 

“It's getting pretty late… Whaddya say you come home with me tonight… And I can teach you how to ride like a real cowgirl?” He whispered through a seductive smirk, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear and effectively making your clit pulse. You bit your lip, took in the pale blue of his eyes and leaned a bit closer.

“You wanna be my teacher?” You asked him, holding his gaze. Emmett nodded before taking a swig of his beer, finishing it and putting it on the bar.

“I'm sure a girl like you could teach an old dog like me a few tricks too…” 

Your smirk turned into a grin before his eyes and your wet pussy fluttered again. God, he was so smooth and beyond sexy. The kind of man you needed.

“Take me home cowboy.” You whispered, ripples of arousal traveling around your body as you watched Emmett pull out his wallet and slap a 20 dollar bill on the counter to cover for your drinks and tip, before taking your hand like a gentleman.

Your girls cheered when they saw you walking out with him, and you so graciously gave them a playful middle finger that made them laugh out loud.

Emmett held the door open for you and all the exposed parts of your body felt the cool summer breeze of the night air. Not for long though, his truck was just a few steps away, and as the gentleman he was, he opened the passenger seat door for you and helped you in. The inside was rather cozy, an air freshener hung from the rear-view mirror along with a, quite fitting, tiny cowboy hat charm. You flicked it with your finger as Emmett got in the driver’s seat. 

“Before we leave...” He started, leaning over the center console. Before you could ask him anything, his lips met yours in a hot, sensual kiss. Inevitably, your hand reached up to touch his beard, and you delighted with the taste of beer and faint mint gum in his mouth.

“Wow… All this is yours?” You asked softly, admiring the vast space bathed in starlight.

 “Sorry, I just had to… Couldn’t wait another minute.” He whispered against the softness of your lips, forming a smile. He sat back in his seat and started the truck up, making it roar to life. His left hand held the wheel and his right hand found his new favorite spot: your thigh. Soft rock born from his radio barely made noise as he drove you down the mostly empty country roads to his home nearby. You raised both eyebrows when an old farmhouse and several barns came into view.

“It is indeed, pretty girl.” Emmett smiled, pulling up next to the house and getting out of his truck, this time helping you out of it, upholding the true gentleman behavior. 

His arm wrapped around you once again, his body warmth fighting for you against the chill summer night’s breeze. You smiled when the front door opened for you and you were the first to step foot inside the cute little farmhouse. It was rather lovely, perhaps too minimally decorated but it was to be expected, he was a 40 year old man living alone. You seemed to be the most feminine thing in this house. 

“I love it… So cozy.” You leaned against the kitchen counter, attracting Emmett to you. His hands found your hips and he looked down at you with that flirtiness that made your pussy wetter. 

“You haven’t even seen the bedroom yet.” He whispered, closer and closer to you until another sensual kiss captured your lips. Your mouth gave his skillful tongue entrance and with a delicious groan he picked you up easily. Your legs wrapped around his hips and his hands supported you by holding your ass. He swallowed a moan from you and walked you both across the house, towards the stairs and into his bedroom. There, he laid you down on his big bed, his lips reluctantly leaving yours for air.

You propped yourself up to your elbows, granting him a visual feast for his eyes to devour. Your exposed midriff, your little shorts and those cute little red boots. Since your cowboy hat had been lost somewhere on the way to his bed, your hair was slightly messy, and your lips glistened from his saliva. He didn’t know where to begin with you. 

“Fuck, you’re sexy…” He admired you, reaching down to pull one of your boots off, then the other one. Both joined his wooden floor. “I need to see this perfect body naked for me…”

You giggled, his hands now occupied themselves with your jean shorts. In a couple of seconds they also met the floor.

“Would ya look at that…” Emmett let out a flirty whistle upon seeing what you hid underneath the denim: a little red thong that made his cock twitch in his jeans, another reminder of how painfully hard he was. His calloused thumb didn’t resist and ran over your clothed pussy, slowly making its way between your folds and marveling at the feeling of the damp fabric. He growled in approval. 

“Someone’s wet…” He looked into your eyes and you felt a rush of blood divide itself to reach both your cheeks and your needy cunt. You bit your lip, your body ablaze.

“Flip over for me, baby… Face down ass up.” He ordered after playing with you over your panties a little bit. You, incredibly turned on and obedient to any sexy command he could throw your way with that deep voice of his, didn’t even think about it twice.

“Yes, Sir.” You played along, flipping over for him with your ass in the air and your cheek against the duvet cover. 

“Fuuuck…” He groaned at the sight. You knew very damn well your little thong was covering absolutely nothing from behind. “I wanna make sure this little pussy is prepped for my lesson…” he said, peeling the thong off you slowly. 

Anticipation pooled at your cunt, the flimsy red fabric left your body with his help. Once you were free, Emmett palmed both your asscheeks and spread them slowly. He moaned at the sight of your glistening pussy and tight asshole, all fully waxed.

“Jesus Fuckin’ Christ…” He breathed out, feeling his heart skip a beat. “I could come just looking at you…” He whispered just inches away from your needy cunt.

You moaned softly at his words, feeling completely exposed yet so turned on. Nothing else could matter to you anymore.

“Please...” You whimpered so needily, he couldn’t resist leaning in and letting his tongue slide between your slippery folds. A guttural groan of his made your pussy reverberate, the taste of you on his tongue so addictive, so divine.

“Oh my god…” Now, you moaned. Emmett’s hot tongue licked a fat stripe from your clit all the way to your ass, flicking against it. The sensation was so good you could barely comprehend it.

You moaned over and over, his thick fingers pumped in and out of you in a slow but firm motion. He watched hungrily as your tight cunt took them in so easily and so greedily.

“You taste like honey…” He purred to our flesh before spitting on your pussy, his saliva slowly dribbling down between your lips and making him groan in approval. Two of his fingers gathered some of that spit on them before circling your aching hole, slowly pushing inside of you from behind. 

 “Fuck… Feels so good…” You spoke in between moans that only got louder when Emmett curled his fingers inside you, hitting that special spot. “Holy fuck…” 

The louder you moaned, the faster his thick fingers moved and curled. Your eager pussy had his index and middle fingers completely wet and glistening.

“That feels good, pretty girl?” He asked with a smirk. “Gotta make sure this little pussy is ready to ride my big cock…” he growled hungrily. 

“I-I’m ready… Please…” His pumping fingers had you bucking your hips in desperation and stuttering, almost out of your mind. Emmett loved every single detail about it, you looked just so beautiful when you were this horny and needy. Mercifully, he pulled his fingers out of your begging cunt and slowly brought them to his mouth, groaning at the taste of you.

“Flip over, baby.” He commanded, the sound of the zipper of his jeans making your ears perk up. You did as he said, catching the glimpse of his pants hitting the floor and his shirt being pulled over his head. He tossed it aside, the view of his toned, hairy chest and arms, along with those sexy tattoos of his made your pussy feel even more needy. Your eyes feasted on him, from his chest to his hard on in his briefs.

“I think you’re ready for your lesson…” Emmett crawled onto the bed and laid on his back, dark curls resting on his pillows. Right away, you sat on your knees, watching the way his arm flexed as he reached over to the side table and opened the drawer. Touch guided his way to a gold wrapper.

“A little help?” He smirked, looking down at his hard cock still tucked in his underwear. You smiled and nodded, your fingers hooking on the gray waistband and gently peeling the fabric down his legs. His big hard cock immediately sprung free for your eyes to devour. A throaty groan resonated from him. It was much bigger than what you had pictured, it was impossible to not stare at it in all its veiny, throbbing glory. 

Emmett ripped open the condom wrapper with his teeth, rolling the latex down his thick cock and looking up at you with a sexy smile.

“You ready to be my cowgirl?” 

Immediately, you snapped out of your trance and nodded.

“Yes, sir…” Your voice came out sweet and so lovely, his hand motioned towards him.

“C’mere, baby…” Emmett cooed and you moved to stand above him. You lowered down slowly on him until your sensitive folds felt the covered tip of his cock, making him groan a little at the friction.

“Mmm, slow baby…” He coached you in a soft voice, putting his hands on your hips and guiding you. “Sink down slowly…” And slowly you did it. His cock slid inside your tight hot ready entrance easily, with all the time in the world. You sank down further, each of your knees on either side of his thighs almost trembling at the stretch. Loud moans escaped you both in unison as you adjusted to him and he adjusted to you. You felt so full, for a second you even doubted if it all could fit, but, as if his cock was designed for your tight little cunt, he fully slid right in with ease. 

“Oh, fuck…” You breathed out, looking into his beautiful eyes through your fluttering eyelashes. “So deep…” Words came in soft whine. Soft, clingy hands supported you by touching his broad, hairy chest. Emmett smirked, a perverted gleam in his eye from watching you adjusting to his thick cock.

“You feel me in here, baby?” He whispered, voice thick and heavy with lust. One of his calloused hands moved from your hip to your lower belly, pressing into your soft flesh and creating an erotic pressure that you could only moan and nod to. You felt him so deeply, all over and inside you.

“You feel so fucking good around me…  So tight and warm. I think this pussy was made to ride my cock.” His voice was low and rough, both hands moved to your hips again, ready to begin.. 

“Now, just go with the flow and get into a good rhythm baby… I’ll help…” He coached you with a sly grin that made your cunt clench around him. He was just so sexy, and he knew and reveled in it. “Just relax and enjoy the ride…” 

After exhaling a needy breath, you started to swivel your hips a bit, riding him slowly. Emmett groaned, his eyes closed in utter pleasure. His hands stayed glued to your hips and guided the slow rhythm your rolling hips set. You both moaned. His hips moved a little under you, encouraging you more and more.

“Look at you cowgirl...” His voice was already a little breathy, his groan took over the last letters of the word “girl”. His cock throbbed inside you at the sight of your pretty tits moving under the Budweiser logo. He helped you out with that, pulling your cropped shirt off your body and hungrily taking in the view of your bare chest as you bounced on his dick.

You moaned more when the tip of his cock hit that deep spot, and the more you spent riding him and earning yourself the title of cowgirl, the more he entertained an idea. 

After a minute or two, Emmett pulled you down, making you chest to chest with him and wrapping his toned arms around you. A searing, sloppy kiss entered your mouth while his hips pistoned from beneath. Your sweet tongue melted into his before he whispered against your lips.

“Now it’s time for you to relax and I'll do all the work baby…” His hoarse voice tickled your skin and he planted his feet on the mattress, gaining the support he needed to immediately pick up the pace and pound into you relentlessly from underneath. No thoughts registered properly in your brain from that point forward, it was all just a hot, wet pool of pleasure. A series of curses left your lips with no particular order and with no respect for anything.  

“Oh-fuck… Oh my fucking god... Fuck!” You cried out into the skin of his neck, the sound of your voice mixing with his low groans and the slapping of skin.

“You fuckin like that?” He panted into your ear, his hips never stopping as you moaned non stop.

“Yes... Yes... Fuck, yes!” You cried out as his hands moved to spank your ass, hard. You almost screamed, the sting nearly sending you over the edge. It was so overwhelming, you didn’t fully realize just how close you were until that moment.

“Jesus… I think I'm gonna come…” You whimpered and his hand came down again hard on your ass, definitely leaving a red mark. Emmett held you so tight against his chest, holding you in place for his thick cock to slam into over and over.

“Come for me..” He looked right into your eyes with pure want in the blue of his irises. And as if on command… You did. 

Eyes squeezed shut so tight you saw lights, a whiny moan was born from the depths of your chest and your sweet, slick cunt clenched around him tight. Your legs couldn't stop shaking and your orgasm took over every single sense. All your being was just a giant orgasm that still could feel him pumping hard into you.

“Holy fuck..” He breathed out in awe watching and feeling you succumb to all the pleasure. 

“Good girl..” He whispered, praising you right before capturing your lips in a hot kiss. “I'm coming too..” Even in your state, you could tell. His thrust had gotten sloppier and his breathing was much heavier. He wasn't able to hold back much longer. Inside the transparent latex, you felt him pulse and fill the material with his warm cum. He groaned, his arms held you tight and kept you there until the last drop was out.

Panting like you had just ran a marathon and with hearts beating fast, you laid there chest to chest. You put your forehead against his in a sweet moment, in response, his hand rubbed your back slowly.

 “Jesus… that was...” He whispered, still a little out of breath looking right into your eyes. You couldn't help but blush and put on a shy smile. 

“...the best sex i’ve ever had…” You softly finished his sentence. 

He pulled out slowly and sat up with you still pressed against his chest. His eyes studied your face for a minute before speaking. “I think you may be a real cowgirl after all…” There was that sly smirk once more, one that made you return the sentiment and lean in with him for one last soft kiss.

Pinterest board with our visual inspo for this fic, made by @fuckiingloser

[hagarsays]

Cillian hair ugh I can’t especially the hair color again UGHHHH

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Wary Sailor Pt. 2 | Matthew Joy x fem!reader

summary: Second Mate Matthew Joy goes out on a whale hunt and even after a successful chase, he can't seem to feel satisfied. Something's weighing heavily on his mind. While alone in the harpoon boat, trouble comes to call.

warnings: Aiming a gun at someone, talk of violence, smut, oral (F receiving), penetration, dubious consent (weird circumstances), unprotected sex, Matthew's abandonment issues lol.

word count: 2763k+

Tucumcari- Goodnight, Texas 🎶

Lady May- Tyler Childers 🎵

Note: The lyrics that I included are from the old whaling song Maid of Amsterdam.

*Pt. 3 (and maybe 4???) coming soon!

The men were deployed into the smaller whaling boats, each boat armed with a harpoon and dense cord. Matthew stood at the back of his boat to steer it away from the ship, navigating the aggravated water. He forced himself to think about the whales, keeping his mind inside the boat… but the girl’s eyes appeared like stars in the corner of his vision at all times. 

“Joy!” One of the rowers was yelling at him, snapping him out of his trance. “Joy, focus! Don’t go soft on us all of a sudden, eh?” 

Matthew grimaced as the grisly sailor chuckled. He steered them out to open water, following the Captain's boat as per his orders. While he couldn’t see their bodies in the water, Matthew could hear the loud vibrations of sound the Sperm whales made as they spoke to one another. He could also hear Owen yelling out commands to his men. The harpoonist prepared his weapon. Matthew directed his man to do the same. 

“Steady now!” He advised his men as they waited for movement below the surface. Striking the whale was simple compared to the rest of the exhausting process. Matthew just planned on keeping his men alive but whale oil was also a necessity that he was willing to sacrifice for. He wasn’t a greedy man by any means, he’d lived in poverty all his life. His life was whaling and he didn’t spend much time off the ocean, the stillness made him restless. 

“There she blows!” A man yelled and Matthew peered over the edge as the side of his boat rose out of the water, stuck on the back of an adolescent whale. As he looked over, the distinct silhouette of a woman wavered beneath the surface. Choosing to ignore it, Matthew swung the boat over to allow the harpooner to cast his weapon. 

“Go, go, go!” He barked, spit flying from his mouth as he waved the man on. The harpoon sailed through the sky, landed in the water like a seabird, and missed. The whale diverted away from Matthew’s boat and found itself trapped beside Owen’s. The mother whale broke the surface nearby, distracting the men to the real prize. Matthew steered his boat away as the other men helped reel in the harpoon’s cord. The harpooner aimed and threw. 

…

It was evening when the whale was secured by chains to the deck of the ship. The whale was so large she had to rest in two different places, one on the ship’s deck and the other in Matthew’s boat. The men aboard wrapped rags around their noses to cover the smell. Matthew just grimaced and rubbed the sockets of his eyes. The darkening landscape helped relieve some of his headache. The other men were already aboard the Essex, only he was left to watch over the end of the whale, saving it from sharks and other predators. He could hear the men singing as they did their work, scraping the fat from the inside of a giant. He hummed along to the song they were singing together.

A roving, a roving

Since roving's been my ru-i-in

I'll go no more a roving

With you fair maid! 

Movement in the water drew his mind away from the song. Ripples expanded across the surface where something had just been. Matthew drew his rifle from the floorboards and checked the chamber for bullets. He watched the surface carefully for the distinct fins of sharks. 

I put my hand upon her thigh

Mark well what I do say!

I put my hand upon her thigh

She said young man ‘That’s rather high’

I'll go no more a roving with you fair maid!

Matthew cocked the gun and aimed it at the dark water around his boat. The men’s singing seemed to dissipate with the seriousness of his situation. Sharks could be both dangerous and damaging. The scent of whale blood always drew them in, sending them into a frenzy where they could throw themselves against the side of the boat, risking damage. They were a nuisance to Matthew and he didn’t mind shooting them when necessary. The boat rocked in the waves and he steadied himself. 

“Are you going to use that on me, Matthew Joy?” The voice behind him startled a gasp from his lips. He swung the rifle around, aiming it at the same face he’d seen hours before. 

“You…” he whispered, keeping his rifle trained on her throat. Her eyes were the same green as before, only this time he could see them more clearly. The sun had fully set but colors remained in the sky above her head, bloody purples and such. He couldn’t see her body below the water but he saw that her shoulders were bare save the scattered pearls stuck to her skin like freckles. 

“Are you going to shoot me?” She whispered back, her face inches from the barrel of the rifle. He licked his lips before speaking.

“Where… where did you go? You disappeared…” he muttered darkly, flicking his eyes up to the deck where his crewmates continued to work. He was alone with the girl. 

“I had to see what you were like,” she offered a small smile. Matthew adjusted the way he held the gun, still aimed at her. 

“You asked me if I believed in Sirens…” Matthew remembered warily, his eyes trailing over the pearls across her chest. Her dark hair rested behind her shoulders, down her back. 

“Do you?” She asked and reached up her hands slowly, holding the edge of the small boat. He stared at her, his breath clouding the metal scope on his gun. 

“Is that what you are?” He asked finally and the girl smiled once again. 

“Is it quite shocking?” She teased and bit her lip timidly. 

“Well… yes,” Matthew exhaled and raised his eyebrow, “I thought they were only in stories. They weren’t real… Why didn’t you sing?”

The girl cocked her head to the side. The air felt heavy between them as he waited for her response. His body was confused and frightened, something he’d rarely felt before. His instinct and desire clashed, strengthening the opposing forces within him.  

“I don’t want to kill you,” she answered honestly, “we sing to kill.” 

Matthew lowered his gun and nodded, breathless. 

“You had legs. You didn’t look… ” He ran a shaky hand through his hair and ran his hand over his mouth. He could see the top of her fin break through the water. It was a beautiful silver color and her scales were shiny and iridescent. 

“I wanted to see how you would treat me. I disguised myself as a human girl and you treated me gently.”

“What do you want from me? You had to keep me alive for some reason,” Matthew sat down on a plank of seating and rubbed the waterducts of his eyes. 

“Nothing more than just to know you. I’ve watched your crew from the sea for weeks. You are a good, kind man.” 

Matthew looked up from between his fingers and exhaled slowly, lowering his guard only slightly. 

“Then what does this mean? How do you want to… know me?” He furrowed his brow and sat back once again on the plank of wood. Her hands tipped the boat slightly so that she could come a little closer to the sailor. 

“Come closer, please…” she whispered and rose onto her elbows, her face a few inches from Matthew’s. Matthew stared at her lips, rosey pink and plump. She smelled like sea salt and clean things. Ever so slowly, Matthew closed the distance between them, his eyes staying on her lips. 

“Y/N…” He tried to restrain himself as he whispered but eventually, as she stared up at him with her beautiful curtained eyes, he kissed her. It had been years since he’d actually kissed a woman. Kissing was so different than fucking. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed it, the softness of it. Her hands inched up his blouse, beneath his overcoat, grabbing at his lapels. His hands found the sharp edges of her jaw, meeting her mouth with a more fervent kiss. She tasted lightly of salt, like seaspray against rocks. He devoured her flavor as though it were precious, forbidden. He twisted his fingers into her hair that felt dry despite being in the water, moaning against her lips. 

“In what other ways do you want to know me?” He muttered against her lips, his eyes closed. Her fingers ran over his neck, down to the dip between his collarbones. 

“I want to know every part of you,” she smiled and moved away, allowing the light from the deck to illuminate her figure below him in the water. Matthew hid a choked sigh as his eyes trailed over her body below the waves. Her body was decorated with pearls and scraps of white cloth. Instead of a tail, she now had two legs that beat the water to keep her afloat. 

“Will you take me into your boat?” She asked softly and Matthew nearly forgot to respond, caught in a state of disbelief. He cleared his throat and scooped his hands beneath her arms, pulling her into the boat in one movement. Standing above him on two legs, she looked even more beautiful than she had hours earlier. He could see the buds of her nipples through the white fabric, surrounded by pearls and strands of seaweed. Her cunt was hidden behind a swath of wet fabric but he could still see the dark shape of pubic hair. He looked back up at her face, his lips having fallen apart in amazement. The Siren laughed softly and carded her fingers through his hair, pulling his head back slightly as she did. 

“Lay me down,” she requested and smiled when he immediately wrapped his hands around her waist and flipped her over where she could lie flat on the bottom of the harpoon boat. The planks were far enough away to give him space to kneel above her. He supported himself above her, studying the contours of her body, plump and full. She twisted her fingers through his hair again and pulled him close so she could whisper in his ear. 

“Now make love to me, Matthew Joy.” 

…

He was already hard when she cupped her hand against his pants. It had been a while since he’d slept with a woman after months at sea. His body ached as badly as if he were a teenage boy again, not an aging man. He was throbbing as he moved the fabric on her cunt aside and lowered his head between her thighs. Looking up at her, he ran his tongue against her, tasting her. She hummed and shook with nerves. 

A roving, a roving

Since roving's been my ru-i-in

I'll go no more a roving

With you fair maid!

Feeling emboldened by her reaction, Matthew licked her again and rubbed his nose against her clit. She was wet against his tongue and he licked his lips greedily. His cock started to throb as she whimpered and moaned beneath his mouth. Her hand pulled tightly at his hair but he loved the pain and worked his mouth harder into her cunt. 

“Now, please now!” She begged him as she started to shake with pleasure. Taking the hint, Matthew undid his trousers and pushed them down to his knees. His face was still wet with her precum as he pulled out his cock and inserted himself quickly. She spasmed around him, her hands moving to grip the sides of the boat for leverage. His thighs clenched as he thrusted into her, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head. He leaned closer to her chest and rocked into her neck as he fucked her. 

“Oh you don’t know how long it’s been, love,” he sighed against her neck. “Is it ok?”

She nodded emphatically and pulled him closer by the back of his jacket, moving him deeper inside her. They both gasped out. He pulled his face away to watch her, still fucking her. 

“Beautiful. Pretty pretty creature you are,” he praised her as he trailed a finger down her cheek. Her thighs bounced against his as he pulled her legs around his waist. The boat shook around them. He slipped his tongue around the mound of her breast beneath the cloth, making more moans escape the girl’s mouth. He slipped the fabric aside with one finger and looking up to watch her face, he pressed his mouth around a nipple and sucked. Immediately, her body pulled into his, her back arching off the curved bottom. 

I'll go no more a roving

With you fair maid!

“Matthew…” she gasped as her muscles tightened and her bare feet flexed. He rolled his tongue around her nipple while his hand moved to hold her neck lightly, supporting her head. She cried out silently, her eyes screwed shut as if she were in pain. He dragged his tongue along her sternum to her neck and sucked at the flesh there. Her breathing evened out and she pulled his face to hers once again. 

“Do what you want with me. Get what you need from me,” the seriousness of her command sent a spasm of pleasure into his cock, still inside her. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes. I want you to use me,” she whispered and spread her legs farther. Matthew looked at her for a second before smiling. 

“Fuck, love. I think I’ll fall in love with you,” he chuckled softly and brushed his hand across her cheek. 

“And so what if you do, sailor? Hasn’t everyone else done the same at some point?” 

Matthew raised an eyebrow and kissed her, dragging her hands out above her head. Pressing her hands down into the boat, he began to thrust slowly into her, his hips still rebounding off of her pelvis. 

“You’re going to stay right here, Y/N. I don’t want to lose you again.” 

The girl smiled and broke into a moan as he shortened his thrusts, keeping himself as far inside her as he could. He went slowly so he could feel the orgasm clearly as it came over him, making his cock feel swollen with seed. Her hips shook wildly as she began to lose control over her orgasms. He watched her orgasm and released a wave of contractions around him. Smiling, he finally began to speed up as she whimpered beneath him.

“Fuck, yes… fuck… yes!” He muttered breathlessly as he felt his cock start to twitch before his orgasm. She tightened around him, pulling him deeper and drawing a guttural groan from his throat. His shoulders shook with effort as he allowed his orgasm to explode, cumming inside the girl and sending waves of relief through his system. He pulled out slowly and kissed down her stomach, savoring the heat of her skin against his lips. She caught her breath as he lapped at her swollen cunt. She was still shaking from her orgasms and whined when his tongue overstimulated her. He cleaned her out and nibbled at the skin on the inside of her thighs. 

“It’s time for me to go.” 

Matthew looked up at her and furrowed his brow, “so soon?” 

The girl nodded and sat up to face him. 

“I’ll be back, I promise.” She smiled shyly and rubbed her nose against his. 

“Where do you go… I mean where do you go while we’re aboard?” He stumbled over his words, still catching his breath. 

“Here,” she offered no further clarification as Matthew gave her a questioning look. She pressed her hand against his cheek and laughed. 

“Don’t worry about where I go, sailor. The sea is my home.”

Matthew kissed her hastily as he redid his pants and pulled his suspender straps back over his shoulders. She stood and kissed him once more before she stepped over the edge and dropped into the water. In seconds she was resurfacing with her silver tail. 

“Let me ask you one thing,” Matthew stopped her before he could leave, “are you real? Was that real?” He gestured to the bottom of the boat and the girl laughed brightly. 

“Be wary, sailor. You might just lose your mind."

Matthew nodded and watched as she backed away and dove into the dark water beyond the reflection of light from the deck. Moments later, a whistle sounded and he was called to return to the ship. Forcing himself to look away from the place where the girl disappeared, he felt the familiar material of his old coat that he had wrapped around the girl earlier on the plank beside him, folded and damp.

...

End of Pt. 2!

[apollosdaydreams]

Sexting?

Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warnings: Age gap!! Both are of age, Reader is about 26 while Cillain is 47 none just fluff :)

No hate to his family and his wife, Yvonne, this is purely fictional.

You were leaning in to Cillian wanting to be with him until he had to leave to film another scene. You both were just playing on your phone, enjoying each other's company when you felt Cillian’s chest begin to vibrate when he started to talk.

“What's sexting?” He asked.

You quickly turned around so you could be facing him, you were now slightly flushed. You could tell he was trying to hold back a smile. You quickly rolled your eyes at him, knowing that he knew what sexting was.

“I'm not having this conversation with you.” You said, while turning back around, leaning on his chest. He smiled into your neck, his hands rubbing up and down your body. His hands stopped on your hips, pulling you close to him. He glanced down at your phone to see what time it was.

“Well I have to go.” He said, while sitting up. You slightly pouted as he moved.

“I’ll see you later, love.” He said winking, walking out the door.

© 2024 on tumblr apollosdaydreams do not translate/remake/repost my works on any platform without authorized permission.

[st4rymoon]

⭐︎𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭⭐︎

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟗: 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 | 18+ | 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐑𝐚𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warnings: semi-dubcon, pussy eating, fingering, cussing, power imbalance, corruption kink

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Ray had you pinned under him with a harsh grip, his finger nails digging into your skin as he ravaged your pussy like it was the last meal he’ll get.

You were sheepishly walking towards your office when you felt a tight grip on your arm yank you into another office.

Lo and behold Ray, your boss was the one yanking you into his office. Within seconds he was throwing you onto his desk and lifting your legs up onto his shoulder.

Ray loved that everyone saw you as an innocent intern. He still remembers the day he interviewed you. He remembers the way you played with your fingers and bit your lip as you grew anxious at his stern demeanor.

The first time either of you slept together was in his bed, he asked you to come over and help him with some papers and before you could blink you were riding him on his couch. He learned rather quickly the little innocent act you had on was just a façade.

Now, he had you sitting in front of his desk as he kneeled and yanked your lace panties down. The second your panties hit the ground he was lapping at your soaked pussy. “Pl- please Ra- not here” you gasped as he hummed in protest.

Loud moans threatened to spill out of you as his tongue circled your swollen clit “remember the deal? I get what I want and you get what you want. This is what I want so let me have it” Ray hissed.

You moaned as he shoved two fingers into you, his digits pumping your slick in and out of you slowly. His hair began to fall in front of his face as he watched your pussy swallow his fingers.

He was pumping faster into you as his slacks grew tight around his legs “gushing all over my damn fingers honey, you’ve been thinking of me haven’t you?” He cooed.

You nodded dizzily as your stomach began to tighten “fu- fuck” you cried, your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as his thumb began to circle your clit softly.

“Of course you have. Couldn’t help but think about your boss fucking you huh? You love that I can shove you into my office whenever I want and do as a please” Ray hummed.

Your walls squeezed his fingers as you gushed all over his hand. Your slick dripped down his hand as he smiled down at you in accomplishment.

He cleaned his fingers with a single lick, his eyes glued to yours as he did. You finally caught your breath as he fixed your panties back up.

“Come back after your break”