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viesanterieures · 1 year ago

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒆

Robert Fischer (Inception) x female Reader

summary: The reader works as an artist who has never had a breakthrough until she decides to paint Robert.

warnings: this is a kinda cute and funny story so… no warnings :)

word count: 2500+

Masterlist

The air was warm as Robert turned into the familiar driveway. It was late October in Sydney, summer was just around the corner and the driveway was full of flowers and other plants. Today was Sunday, one of the few days he had to himself and his friends. During the week, he worked from early morning until late at night, as befits the future CEO of a multi-million dollar empire. Before he had even rung the bell, the door opened and a woman with shoulder-length brown hair pulled him into her arms. "Robert, how nice of you to come. We haven't seen each other in at least two months."

He laughed a little and patted his best friend on the shoulder. "I've had a lot on my mind, I'm sorry, Rebecca." Robert had known her since they were children. They had gone to kindergarten together and Rebecca was two years younger than him. All the friendships of his childhood, youth and university days had not lasted because many people thought he was arrogant, but Rebecca had always been there for him. As a child, as a teenager, as a student, at his wedding... and also at his divorce three years ago.

"How is your father, Robbie?" she wanted to know. Suddenly the smile on his face faded. "It doesn't look so good. He'll probably have to go back into hospital next month for a surgery." Rebecca looked at him compassionately and nodded silently as she took his jacket. "I'm so sorry."

I'm glad I can at least visit you," he quickly changed the subject.

"I'm glad too, Robbie," she said with a bright smile again.

"YN is also here, I hope you don't mind."

"No Becca, that‘s cool," Robert said, following her into the living room.

YN was Rebecca's younger sister and Robert quite liked her. She was one of those people who believed in destiny, the supernatural, spiritual things and tarot cards, which Robert didn't think much of. But she had always been very warm and kind to him and Robert was sure that there wasn't a single bad bone in this woman's body. She was just the way she was. As far as Robert knew, she worked full time in a perfumery and in her free time as an artist, but she remained rather unsuccessful. Her face immediately lit up when she saw him and gave him a friendly wave. She was wearing a pink dress, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, gold earrings and red lipstick. She was really pretty.

"Robert, how nice to see you! I brought some cupcakes, would you like one? They're homemade." She held out a bowl of pink muffins with strawberries and sprinkles to him. Robert gratefully took one and sat down on the couch next to the two women.

"It‘s really good," Robert praised YN's baking skills after taking a bite.

"Thank you, Robert. I baked them at 3 o'clock in the night because I couldn't sleep... It was another full moon. And my moon calender says that I should concentrate more on housework now, especially cooking and baking“.

He tried to hide his surprised expression and took another bite. Rebecca didn't seem confused by the explanation, she knew her sister well enough. Finally, YN slowly bent down towards them. "And do you know what my horoscope said?" Robert and Rebecca shook their heads.

"That I'm going to have my breakthrough this month," she finally said excitedly.

"You mean with your art?" Rebecca wanted to know.

"Yes! I'm going to have a huge success. But I don't know what motif to choose." YN picked at her dress thoughtfully. "A portrait or a landscape... I'm not sure. I need a subject to practise on first. Just to get back into it. I haven't painted for months.

"You've painted me so many times," Rebecca said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "How about you painting Robert?"

YN's face lit up at the words. "That's a wonderful idea! Robert, you have such a beautiful face... Like an angel!"

Robert almost choked on his cupcake. "Please what?"

"Oh come on Robbie, she just wants to practise," Rebecca interjected.

Sighing, he looked into YN's bright eyes and shrugged. "Yes, why not..."

YN cheered immediately and hugged Robert happily. "But I can't sit still for like eight hours," Robert replied quickly.

"You don't have to do that," YN said. "You can come with me to my studio, I'll draw the outlines and a sketch, then I'll take a photo of you to paint the details later. If you like and have the time, we can start right away. It would mean so much to me, Robert, really!" He smiled and nodded again. He just couldn't look away from YN's eyes.

***

"Nice studio," Robert said, breaking the awkward silence. He looked around curiously. YN's studio was a bright room with large windows letting in the daylight. There were easels full of canvases and tubes of paint everywhere and the smell of fresh paint was in the air.

"Robert, I told you not to move," laughed YN, who sat behind a canvas. The two had left for YN's that afternoon. Now the sun was already setting outside and Robert felt as if he had been sitting on the floor in front of her for ages.

"I'll be done with the outlines in a minute."

"Good, because my butt is already hurting," Robert grumbled.

A short moment later, YN put the brush down, clapped her hands and grabbed a camera lying on a chair next to her. "Well, I'm done for today. Let's take the photo quickly."

Robert moved back into position and looked a little tiredly at the camera. A few seconds after YN had taken the picture, he collapsed. "My God, this is more exhausting than I thought."

YN laughed. "I believe you. I've been a model too."

"Can I have a look?" Robert asked curiously, sitting up with a groan.

"Sure, come here." YN turned the canvas a little.

"Oh, this is definitely... Art." If Robert was honest, he couldn't really make out much on the canvas. It looked more like a wild doodle of a man who, with a lot of imagination, could look like him. And for this he had been sitting in an uncomfortable position on the cold floor for almost two hours?

"I'll start working on the details tomorrow. I'll let you know when it's ready."

Robert forced a friendly smile, YN pulled him into a tight hug to say goodbye and he left the house, a little disappointed.

Days and weeks passed without Robert hearing a word from YN. He didn't know how far she'd got with the painting, or if she'd even thrown it away. But then, one Saturday evening, she finally called him to say that she had finished the painting and that he could come and see it tomorrow. Of course Robert couldn't resist the opportunity, as he was actually quite curious to see how the painting would look now, although he had little hope that it would be any better than the last time.

He finally arrived at YN's door at 10am the next morning. She immediately greeted him friendly and offered him a cup of tea, which Robert gratefully accepted.

"Nice of you to come," she said and excitedly pulled him by the sleeve into her studio. "Close your eyes."

Robert did as she asked, although he was a little confused by her instructions. YN carefully led him to the easel in the middle of the room.

"And open your eyes."

Robert looked curiously at the painting in front of him, but then his jaw dropped and he couldn't get a word out.

"I've thrown away the old painting and made a new one. Isn't it gorgeous?"

He couldn't believe his eyes. The painting was insanely beautiful. It must have taken an eternity to work out all the details. He'd never seen so much care in YN's work, who usually painted in a rather chaotic way. Every single strand of Robert's dark hair was painted perfectly and precisely, and you could almost count every single eyelash. But most striking of all were the eyes, which stood out almost ghostly from the rest of the rather dark picture.

"It's so beautiful," he marvelled, running his finger carefully over the dry canvas. "But why am I wearing a sheer white shirt? I wore a normal black shirt that day. And my eyes look almost inhuman."

"Artistic freedom," YN quickly replied. "I wanted you to look a bit ethereal in the painting."

Robert nodded slowly with a raised eyebrow, then smiled again. "It‘s still so beautiful."

"You can have it if you want," YN offered.

He shook his head immediately. "No, no, keep it. It must have been so time-consuming that I don't want to take it away from you. I'm sure it's better off in your studio than in my house. But... promise me you won't sell it, okay?"

She nodded quickly and looked Robert straight in the eye. "No, I won't. I've made another artwork that I'm going to submit to the art competition."

Robert looked at her, confused. "To what?"

"Oh, I haven't told you yet. The art museum is running a competition this month. If I win, my painting will be on display there, isn't that great? Mrs Buchanan from the museum is coming to see the painting tomorrow. She's a good friend of my aunt's."

"That's great. Then I'll be rooting for you to win!"

Eventhough Robert had recently doubted YN's talent, he'd wished her all the best, especially now that he'd seen the beautiful portrait.

"And here it is," she joyfully pulled a cloth from a easel beside her.

"Oh, um... what is it exactly?" Robert asked, a little embarrassed as he couldn't make out more than a few patches of dark green on a grey background.

"The painting is called 'The Fog Forest'. The theme of the competition is 'Between reality and fiction: a journey into imagination'," explained YN. "The green stands for the trees of the forest and the grey is the fog and shadows, where you can easily get lost and dream.

"Oh, um, very nice." Robert forced a smile. "I'm sure Mrs Buchanan will recognise it immediately, also the deeper meaning, unlike me. You know I don't know much about art."

"I know that, Robert. But it's so kind of you to support me," she said softly, taking his hand and squeezing it gently.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go now, I have another appointment. Busy schedule as a future CEO... you know," he replied quickly, then looked at her pretty face and felt his heart beating in his chest.

***

"Becc, when I tell you! I've never seen such a beautiful painting." It was just after half past seven the next evening and Robert was glad to be off work. He stood in his kitchen, his phone wedged between his shoulder and ear as he chopped vegetables into small cubes.

"Are you sure, Robert? I've known YN long enough and she's never painted anything else than a few dots and lines," Rebecca's voice came over the loudspeaker. Robert thoughtfully placed the pieces of vegetable in a pot.

"I've seen it with my own eyes. Maybe she was possessed by the ghost of Leonardo Davinci that night or something." At this moment Robert's doorbell rang. "I have to hang up, Becc, I'm sorry. I'll call you tomorrow again." Confused, Robert wiped his hands on a towel and hurried to the front door. Who the hell was that? As he opened the front door, he saw a familiar face but also an unfamiliar one. In front of him stood YN, as always in one of her summer dresses and her big earrings, and next to her a tall, slim older lady with a tight bun and a blazer, looking at him curiously.

"Hey YN... what are you doing here? And who are you?" Robert wanted to know, frowning in confusion.

"Oh, it's him! I recognise him," the unknown lady said excitedly as she looked at him more closely.

YN tapped nervously with one foot and took a deep breath. "Robert, this is Mrs Buchanan from the art museum, she wants to have you."

"Wait, what? She wants to have me?" Robert laughed confused.

"Not you. The painting of you." The lady quickly clarified. "It's really gorgeous. What a work of art. It perfectly reflects our theme for this month. Between reality and fiction... Almost like a modern version of the Dorian Gray's portrait," she enthused.

Robert's jaw dropped and he looked at YN, stunned. "But... but you submitted a completely different painting to the competition. The one with the forest."

"Oh, please, sir, you couldn't even see any trees, forest or anything in the picture," she replied sharply, and Robert didn't miss YN's sad face. "I saw this masterpiece in the corner of her studio and asked her if she wanted to submit this instead of that… Fog-Forest... thing."

"This is not possible, I‘m sorry," Robert replied firmly.

"Why not?" Mrs Buchanan asked.

"I am a serious businessman, madam, about to take over a company worth millions. What would my employees and clients think of me if they saw the painting of me as an…an…ethereal creature? I have to maintain a certain respectability." Robert bit his lower lip as soon as he said these words. He realised that this was YN's last chance and that she might have to give up her dream of becoming a painter.

"It's okay, Robert“, YN said quietly. "I understand." Forcing a smile, she turned around together with Mrs Buchanan.

For Robert, the world seemed to stand still at that moment. He didn't want YN's dream to be shattered like his own. He had always aspired to become a professional musician and study music, but his father had always stopped him because he wanted him to take over the company one day. Even though Robert didn't even think he was the right person for this huge job.

"Wait, YN." The echo of his voice sounded down the driveway, the two women, who were about to get back into the car, immediately turned around.

"Let‘s do this, YN."

****

"A glass of champagne, sir?" asked an elegantly dressed lady next to him, balancing a small tray in front of her.

"No, thank you, madam. I don't drink alcohol at the moment," Robert declined her offer in a friendly voice.

"And for our winner? On the house, of course," she asked YN, who was standing next to him. She gratefully accepted a glass. The exhibition was in full swing. Many different artists were exhibiting that day, but no artwork attracted as many glances as YN's. Rebecca joined them and patted her sister on the shoulder. "I looked at it again, it really is amazing. How did you do it?"

"I don't even know it myself. It's as if my hands painted it themselves," YN replied, taking a sip from her glass.

"That supports Robert's Davinci theory," Rebecca chuckled.

YN looked at her, confused. "What?"

"Nothing," Rebecca replied quickly, pointing to the glass in her sister's hand. "Hey, where did you get the champagne?" she wanted to know.

"From that lady over there," YN replied with a grin and immediately Rebecca was gone in the crowd.

"I'm so sorry," Robert said quietly. "For what?" she wanted to know in surprise.

"For underestimating you... You and your art... You‘re such a wonderful, strong and unique woman."

YN bit her lip and Robert felt that she was about to cry. "Thank you, Robert." They remained silent as they watched the visitors pass by the artworks.

"So my horoscope was right after all," YN told Robert. "I really had my breakthrough. Do you believe in them now?" she wanted to know.

"Maybe," Robert replied thoughtfully.

"Do you know what else he said besides success?", she asked him.

Robert shook his head and smiled curiously.

"That I will also find love this month," she said quietly, putting her glass down on a small table beside her. "Maybe it was the love I felt for you when I painted that picture that made it so beautiful. Maybe that was the reason for all the success.“

Robert looked into her eyes and gently stroked her soft hair. Finally, he slowly pulled her into his arms and their lips touched immediately.

- 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔

#cillian murphy #cillian #robert fischer imagine #robert fischer fanfiction #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #inception fanfiction #inception x reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #Oppenheimer #Inception

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hllywdwhre · 10 months ago

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It’s Time To Go

Pairing: Robert Fischer x fem!reader

Summary: You wait in the booth you and Robert spent your first date sitting in, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

Warnings: Uhm… angst. I don’t know how to give warnings to this without spoiling it. A lot of angst. I cried writing this. The characters don’t stop crying. Uhm. Grief, kidnapping, and death. Yeah.

Word Count: 1.5K

Notes: Seriously. Don’t read this if you’re in a bad headspace or don’t want to cry.

Robert’s face paled the first time he saw you since that fateful day.

There you were, in the booth on the opposite side of the restaurant from where he sat. You looked the same as you had that day; you were even wearing the same dress and your hair was styled the same way.

“Hun, are you okay?” The woman asked that sat opposite him.

Robert cleared his throat and tore his eyes from you before nodding his head,

“Y-yeah, just thought I saw someone,” he replied then went back to their previous conversation.

You felt your eyes burn with tears and you looked away from him, also. You had come here because you knew the restaurant was one of his favorites and you wanted to check in on him. You knew he frequented here and hoped to spot him, but now that you had, you weren’t sure why you were so concerned.

There were better things waiting for you, but you were terrified. You didn’t know what was supposed to come next now that he was with another woman and had seemingly moved on from you.

You didn’t know why you came back again. It was as if it was out of your control. There you sat again, though.

In the corner booth where you and Robert had your first date.

You spotted him when he walked in. He was alone this time and you felt your heart flutter in your chest despite the way you knew you shouldn’t.

Robert seemed to be looking for someone, and his face paled again when he saw you.

To your surprise, he walked towards you this time, sliding into the booth across from you.

Neither of you seemed to be able to look away from each other or know what to say. Eventually, he broke the silence though.

“I thought I had lost my mind the first time I saw you,” he said with a crack in his voice.

“I think I’ve lost mine… I can’t seem to stop coming back here,” you revealed with your own shaky voice.

“You haven’t aged a day,” he commented, but the tone in his voice told you that you were missing something and that this was to be expected.

“You look good. You look happy.” Some selfish part of you wished he wasn’t happy. The wedding band on his finger wasn’t one you had placed there and the selfish part of you wished that he wasn’t happy because of that.

“It took a long time, but I am,” Robert answered honestly. “After the kidnapping, I thought I’d never be happy again.”

There was a hesitancy in his voice at the mentioning of the kidnapping that you figured was normal. It was enough to traumatize anyone.

“I’m glad,” you said with a smile. Despite your jealousy, you were glad that he had found happiness, even if it wasn’t with you.

He paused for a moment. You recognized when he was struggling to say something and you could tell now that he was holding back. You resisted the urge to reach across the table and take his hand to comfort him.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he finally said.

His words sent a bolt of pain through you and you felt your eyes water again.

“W-what?” You asked, confused.

“You’re supposed to have moved on. It’s been years,” he said.

Your mouth opened, a million responses coming to your mind but none of them seeming to fit.

“I love you, Rob,” was the only thing you could manage to force out.

His eyes watered as you said the words and he looked away from you for a long moment before looking up at you again.

“I love you, too. I’ve never stopped loving you, but you’re not supposed to be here, darling.”

“What do you mean I’m not supposed to be here? You just confessed your love to me even though you’re married!” You protested, your voice rising in indignation.

“I’m here to help you move on,” he replied gently, despite your anger at him.

“How is you confessing that you love me and telling me that I’m not supposed to be here going to help me move on?” You questioned, your voice still laced with anger.

“What do you remember about the kidnapping?” He asked in response.

Your brows furrowed in confusion but you answered him anyway.

“I remember when you were taken, getting the call you were missing and feeling my heart stop in the middle of that coffee shop. I remember that I was worried sick the entire time you were gone… I remember finding you and pulling the gag out of your mouth.”

“And what after that?” He asked again.

You scoured your memory for what came after it… but you remembered nothing. You knew nothing. You remembered finding him and then you remembered walking through the door of this damned restaurant to try and find him.

“I don’t remember anything,” you said with a shake of your head.

“What day is it?” He asked this time.

Another shake of your head. You had no idea.

“It’s been seven years since I was kidnapped. Seven years since you found me,” he told you.

Seven years? There’s no way.

He read the confusion on your face and spoke before you could question him.

“I remember kissing you the moment the gag was pulled from my mouth,” he told you, pausing for a moment as he fought with himself to say the next words, “I remember kissing you and then I remember hearing a gunshot.”

You froze. You didn’t remember a gunshot. All you remembered was the relief that washed over you when you saw him and the tears streaming down your face when you got to hold him in your arms again.

“Darling… I made it out, but you didn’t. You took a bullet meant for me and you died before they could get you to the hospital.”

Spotting the way Robert now had tears streaming down his cheeks was what made you notice your own. It’s also what made you notice the pain in your chest. You went to look down and Robert’s hand was under your chin in a moment, keeping you from looking down.

“Don’t,” he warned.

You nodded your head against his hand and watched as he stood up then came and sat next to you.

“Focus on me,” he told you as he wrapped you under one of his arms and held eye contact with you.

“I-I’m,” you stuttered out, hiccuping a bit as your crying only intensified.

He seemed to know what you were trying to say and he nodded,

“Yes,” he confirmed, “and you need to move on. I want to help you through it, but you have to let go.”

“I’m scared,” you told him.

“It’s okay to be scared. Just focus on me,” he coached and his hand went to your hair. When you nodded, he continued talking.

He recounted your first date, the first time he realized he loved you, the first time he told you those words. He told you about how nervous he was to ask you to move in with him. He told you about every little detail he remembered about the life you two had begun to create together.

He told you how he met his new wife at a group to help people with their grief. He told you how she helped him through the nightmares and never seemed to be jealous that there were days where all he did was mourn you. He told you he named his daughter after you.

Neither of you could stop crying.

“It’s okay to let go, darling. You deserve better than to sit here waiting for me, and I promise that I’ll be okay,” he reassured, after a ragged deep breath.

You didn’t have the strength left in you to speak and you simply nodded your head from where it now laid on your shoulder.

“I’ll still remember you every time I say my daughter’s name. I’ll still remember you every time I see the flowerbed out front filled with your favorite flowers. I’ll still remember you in the little details that remind me of you every day,” he said as you began fading away. “I’ll always love you and I’ll never forget you.”

You could still see him sitting in the booth alone. It was from a distance now. You weren’t sure what was next, but you watched as he sat there for a long time after you disappeared until he had calmed down and eventually checked his phone. He held it to his cheek for a moment and you caught him saying something about ‘having to visit her’ and a reassurance he would be home soon.

You would always love him, the same way he would always love you, but you felt a sense of peace now.

He would be okay, and you would, too.

#cillian murphy #robert fischer #Robert Fischer x reader #robert fischer x y/n #Robert Fischer x you #Robert Fischer imagine

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daenysx · 5 months ago

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i wanted to try writing something for robert, i don't know if it's good but i think it has a potential to be nice. i'd like it very much if you tell me what you think but it's okay if you don't <3333

robert fischer x fem!reader

imagine sitting on the comfiest couch in robert's home and waiting for him to arrive. he texted earlier so he should be here in a few minutes. he still keeps the blanket you love so much on the couch, you can just take it and wrap yourself into it. you don't want to fall asleep before he gets here but it's so difficult-

his keys jingle. only you and him. he opens the door, his suit jacket unbuttoned. his perfectly stilled hair almost starting to get messy. it's a late night, he likes the lights low. he exhales. it's nice to be alone with you.

his cheekbones are prominent as he smiles. he's such a good looking man, you kinda lose sleep over it. his eyes are a piercing blue, you can swear they got tiny sparkles in them as robert approaches to your couch.

"hey." you murmur with a lazy smile. he smiles back, just as tired as you. "hi, handsome."

he extends a gentle hand to yours, stroking the back of your fingers. "hey." he whispers, leaning to give you a kiss. then he stands straight again, taking a look around the big room.

you tuck your fingers to his belt loops. pulling him softly to yourself, you watch him watch you through teasing eyes. your fingers stroke his tired body through his clothes, it's not an initiating touch and robert knows it. he lets you pull him to yourself once more, surrenders and settles down next to you.

"i should change my clothes." he says, you are getting ready to snuggle into him. "my shirt probably smells like smoke."

"it's okay." you tell him. "can we stay here for a while? if you don't mind?"

he nods. when has he ever said no to you? it's so easy, to put your head on his chest and close your eyes. robert is not hesitant with his touches anymore, his fingers are familiar on your back as he draws slow circles. you want him to kiss you. you want him to hold you and let you sleep here with him. maybe he wants it too. you hope he does.

"don't fall asleep." he says with a soft voice. "you haven't eaten anything."

"not hungry." you murmur.

"sweetheart."

"just- don't wanna eat yet." you soften with the endearment. "later, please."

robert hums. it's actually really nice like this, the quietness of big walls and his hands on you. he thinks he adores the way your body snuggles to him. his muscles ache to hold you tighter. this is where he was meant to be.

his pretty eyes betray him and close on their own. his breaths get even, heartbeat steady, hands still on you. you'll tease him about it later, how he fell asleep before you. for now, you decide to stay until he wakes up. he needs to get some sleep, anyway.

#robert fischer #robert fischer x reader #robert fischer x you #robert fischer x fem!reader #robert fischer fic #robert fischer fanfic #robert fischer imagine #robert fischer fanfiction #inception #inception fanfic #inception fic #inception imagine #cillian murphy #cillian murphy characters

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zaraquinn · 11 months ago

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i wish you love.

chapter iii | valentine

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summary: after an odd parallel dream, reader and robert’s affections start to show; progressing their relationship to the most desired path.

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tw: MDNI!! smut (p in v, no protection {wrap before tap}, depictions and mentions of domestic abuse, manipulation and a toxic relationship

word count: +2.7k

female!reader x robert fischer (inception)

author’s notes and additional notes: sorry for the delay but here is the next chapter of i wish you love! a little confession: this chapter was in a stalemate status for a while. I thought since the second chapter didn’t get as much feedback and traction as the first chapter i thought interest quickly disappeared. but i had many people wondering for the next chapter, and it made me happy that people were still interested! thank you for all that have been waiting and reading, it means a lot. also, if you want to be part of the tag list, comment below and i will add you to the growing list on the series masterpost. it will be updated every time there is a new chapter uploaded. it keeps everything together in one (both the location of the tagged accounts and the chapters of the story) so it’s easier to access. anyway, enjoy the new chapter :3

xoxo

- zara q.

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! masterlist !

! series masterpost + tag list here !

—————

Robert blinks a few times, finding himself standing staring out his window in his high-rise office. His suit jacket hung on his chair and his sleeves were rolled up, showing his forearms. His ears feel muffled at first but everything comes back for a moment, and the voice that has been beckoning at him now becomes clear.

“Robert? Are you okay?” Your voice echoed through his office. He turns around with a confused look. His cheeks suddenly felt wet, and touched his face, realizing he was crying. You stepped forward, your smaller hand gently reaching towards his face to wipe away the tear falling. Your face, as angelic as ever is perfectly lit from the soft sunlight coming from his windows in the office.

Your hand then rests on his cheek, his hand immediately meeting yours and intertwining your fingers with his. He brought his other hand to cup your cheek, mirroring you. He looks at you with such adoration in his eyes, a sparkle that only intensifies when he closes his eyes to relish in the moment. Robert closed the gap between the two of you, his lips finally gaining the courage to touch land on yours.

His lips were so soft. They fit so well like it was meant to be there all along. Relishing in the kiss, he pulled away suddenly, taking a breath for a moment. His eyes stayed closed as he could feel the rush of emotion fill his body and flood his eyes. Your soft fingertip wiped away another fallen tear as one of his hands held onto yours on his face—keeping in place with such softness.

“I’ve dreamt every night about doing that to you.” He mutters; his voice as gentle as a whisper. You smile. “Me too.” You close your eyes and lay your forehead on his. Both of you breathe in each other’s scent as he moves closer to you, closing the gap once more.

He pulled you close, his hands travelling to your waist and all over your body. He wanted to relish in this moment, wanting to memorize every single part of you. You took a breath and moaned at his touch, feeling his lips travel from your lips to your neck. He gently pushed you back onto his desk, his hands now making its way up your skirt. Robert felt the soft fabric of your panties and slowly pulled them down your legs to the floor, using his hand to lay on your slick heat. You were already soaking, his hand already collecting your juices. You instinctively lifted a leg to wrap around Robert, and he adjusted accordingly, giving you more room for you to spread your legs. You felt your pink slit touch his pants, and Robert, as hard as ever frantically started to unbuckle his belt.

He let go of you momentarily, and you whimpered from the loss of contact. Once he was able to get his cock free he quickly attached himself to your lips and lined himself up at your entrance. “Make love to me Robert.” You moaned, desperate to feel him inside you. All he had to do was nod before he slowly slipped right into your dripping cunt. Your total slickness making it easier for his thick cock to fit right in. “Robert!” You yelped in pleasure as you felt him inside you, filling you up to the brim, making you feel full. He held you close, making sure to steady you on his desk as he slowly pulled almost all out of you. He then snaps his hips forward, filling you back up and just hitting that sweet spot that made you moan out loud. He makes a slight grunt, being in absolute paradise between your legs. “Y/N,” he said breathlessly.

He looks into your eyes as he starts a steady pace, sweat starting to build up on his forehead. His perfect brown hair bounces as he buries himself deep into your soaking cunt. “Y/N…” he says in between breaths. “Yes, Robby?” You return his words, moaning and squeaking through each pleasuring thrust he gave you. “I—”

Suddenly, his office doors burst open. His father and another man appear surprised in the hallway. That surprise suddenly turns angry as they yell the pair’s names at the sight. Robert stops and hugs you tight, protecting the scene and your body with his. You go completely still at the moment.

“Robert?” “Y/N?”

Maurice Fischer's voice booms in shock and disgust as Y/N’s boyfriend fumes in rage at the sight. His voice, louder than Maurice’s, echoes through the room. He quickly pulls out a gun and men start swarming the room, pointing it at both Robert and Y/N.

“What the fuck is this?” You quickly push yourself off and Robert fixes himself up. Afterwards, he pushes you behind him. One arm holds you close while the other is stretched out towards his father and Y/N's boyfriend.

“Let’s calm down, okay? We can sit down and talk about this. All of us.”

His voice is shaky but remains soft. You clutch onto the back of Robert’s shirt as you step beside him, holding your other arm in surrender. “Please, let us talk.”

Maurice gives one look at you, then to his son, and then the man you hated calling your boyfriend. He sighs. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, Y/N.” You look at Robert with pleading eyes as he grabs your hand. Maurice Fischer nods ever so slightly, and in a blink of an eye, Robert’s on the ground. A bullet through his chest and blood on the ground. The bullet coming from your boyfriend’s gun as he points it at Robert’s head.

Before you can even react to stop him, one of Maurice’s men’s guns goes off behind you, and for a split second of pain, it is also gone.

—

You wake up in a cold sweat and sit up from your pillows. You check the time on your bedside and realize it's 7:30 AM. Turning around slowly, you see the sleeping figure beside you with his eyes closed; like a dormant bomb, ready to go off. Pulling the sheets off you take a breath and get ready for work. The memories of your dream rush through like a current of rushing water. Robert’s gentle but fiery touch on your skin as his hands travelled throughout your body, the way his cock felt inside you and the next was the fear, panic and pain that ended sooner than it started. You open your eyes and look in the mirror for a moment; shaking your head of the dream before it further distracts you from getting ready.

Robert’s eyes shoot open and he sits up from his bed. Lonely and all alone. He holds his head in his hands for a moment, replying to the last bits of the dream he had before it slowly fades away. He checks the time on his bedside table; at 7:30 AM. Tiredly flopping back down on his bed, he stares up at the ceiling for a moment. His eyes close for a moment and parts of the dream relapse in his memory: the way your soft skin felt when your hands admired your body, to how tight and warm you felt wrapped around his cock and then the sheer devastation his heart felt when he caught you on his arms with a bullet hold through your head. He had no time to react when he too, felt a pain hit his temple and then the dream was over. He gets up from his bed this time, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head.

—

You get to work, holding the coffee and breakfast sandwich you knew Robert favoured in your hands.

You felt slightly nervous to see Robert—even though it was a dream, you were worried that the feelings you had floated to the surface of your face and he would notice. So, you kept your eyes downcast when you knocked on his office door.

“Y/N.” his voice, gently beaming from behind you appeared as you turned around. You softly gasp as he puts his hands up. “It’s just me. I’m sorry I startled you.” Robert chuckles and glances at a coffee cup in his hand before handing it to you. His other hand making its way into his pocket. “I brought you this.” Your brows furrowed in confusion as you giggled at the sight. “Robert, you do know it’s supposed to be the other way around? The coffee should be in my hand, for you.” You playfully answered. He nervously chuckled. “Yes, but…” he paused and took a breath, gathering his thoughts. “This is a thank you; for last night. I needed something to take my mind off of and dinner with you helped.” You felt your smile grow wider at the gesture, and the blush creeping on your cheeks started to grow. “Thank you.” You replied, gently taking the cup from his hands.

“Plus, this could be an extra perk if you were having an…odd morning today.” He gives a small smirk, and you feel yourself stiffen for a moment. Does he know? Flashes of the dream reply in your mind for a split second and you let a small giggle escape your lips. “Um, yeah. I’m glad I’m not the only one.” You hint back to Robert with a smirk. His cheeks slightly burn pink at your reply and you feel yours do the same. You look down at your hands and you almost forget the coffee you got Robert as well still in your other hand. “Right, I almost forgot. Here’s your morning coffee for your day as well.” Robert gives a warm smile, taking the cup from your hands. “Thank you, Y/N.” his touch lingers on you a while longer before you let go of the cup with your blushed smile. You shyly turned around and headed to your office until…

“Y/N?” Robert said quickly. Approaching you slowly he let out a quick breath before chuckling to himself nervously. “Would you—“

*RING RING*

Your work cellphone interrupted Robert’s words as you immediately picked it up, before saying sorry as the habit of working kicked in for the day. “Fisher and Morrow. Yes, this is his assistant speaking.” Robert opened his mouth and then closed it, hesitating on what he was about to say. He clenched his fists and realized it wasn’t a good time.

Removing the phone from your ear and closing the call, you gave a sombre look to your boss. Who oddly enough, looked defeated. “I’m sorry that interrupted you Robert, but, you have a meeting to attend to at 11 AM for the draft and another lunch-in with—“ “Associates and finance. I remember.” Feeling defeated, Robert put his hands in his pockets.

“What were you saying though?” You quipped softly. The look you gave him almost wanted him to blurt out what he was going to say, but instead, he sighed. “It’s okay. When we have time, I’ll tell you.” He gave a tight smile, but you know it was bothering him. Although you didn’t know what it was, you made it a goal today to make sure he said his piece.

“Okay, no worries. I’ll come back once the day’s finished. Does that work for you?” Those words he’s heard ten thousand times from your mouth, but this time, it warmed his heart differently. He chuckles nervously once again looking down at his shoes before challenging himself to make eye contact with you.

“That sounds perfect.” That tight-lipped smile turned into a genuine one. The one you were always happy to see. You nodded in agreement and walked away to your office. Butterflies fluttering all over your stomach tenfold. Little did you know, Robert felt the same way.

———

Time passed faster than expected, as Robert didn’t realize it was the end of the day. He was anticipating what he would say and how to say it when you came knocking at the door. The meetings he was in were just white noise, and time to spend thinking about your arrival.

It was rare for Robert to be nervous. Especially like a man of his stature and reputation. This persona he had to uphold for the company’s reputation and face. He learned quickly after switching off auto-pilot on the businessman facade it drained him of his energy. You were the only saving grace to his work and made him still have the energy for late night hours at the office to thank-you-dinners.

That’s why he has to make this right. He doesn’t want to let you go. The company is on the verge of being at its most vulnerable and Robert knows he had to play his cards right. It’s now or never.

The three familiar knocks broke Robert out of his thoughts. He quickly put away his papers and tidied his desk, giving a short ‘Come in’ before you walked in. Holding your organizer, you stepped in and started to delve into today’s completed tasks and tasks for tomorrow. Then, you stopped and closed your organizer.

“So, what did you want to tell me, Robert?”

Robert could feel his heartbeat in his ears. His stomach felt like it was about to drop but he couldn’t stop staring at your dreamy presence. He took a breath and shook his head and finally looked at you. “Would you like to go to dinner with me? And not as a work duty.”

Your expression softened tenfold and you could hear the slight shake in his voice. You’ve rehearsed this moment thousands of times in your head, and you knew the answer before he could’ve even asked. “Yes. Yes, of course.” He let out a relieved chuckle and his smile grew wide, like a child of Christmas. “Great. Let's say tomorrow night, and I’ll pick you up at eight.” He says, almost beaming. “I would love that.”

——

Once you got home, you excitedly twisted your keys and entered your home. Startled at your boyfriend waiting for you, standing in the middle of the living room staring at you. “Jesus, you scared me.” You said softly, as he put your keys back in your pocket and laid your jacket and purse on the coat rack and foyer table.

“Where were you?” His tone was still, almost like he was keeping his anger on the surface. You looked away, avoiding eye contact. “Work, like always.” You said back, albeit softly. This isn’t the first time he’s done this, so you continue to play his bit so it can be done quickly. “Who drives you home?” “I took a taxi.”

That was when he charged at you. Slamming you into the wall and trapping you with his towering frame. The hit at the back of your head throbbed in pain. “I knew you were lying to me. You’re cheating on me aren’t you?” He held you trapped between the wall and him and you shook your head. “No!” Fear ran through your blood and you began shaking. “I called your work, and the receptionist of the building said you got a ride from Fischer. You’re cheating on me with your boss!?” He exclaimed loudly.

Your fear quickly subsided into rage, as you felt yourself getting quite tired of the abuse. And the mention of Robert was the last straw. If he was scared of Robert replacing him, he should be.

“You know what? I did lie. He did give me a ride home.” You said back, almost seething. Your boyfriend felt the rage boil at his fingertips. “You what?!” You yelled, his voice cracking as he felt betrayed. You reached for your keys in your pocket and with all your might, struck him on his head. Giving you ample time to escape being trapped between him and the wall, you scurried off, leaving lots of space between each other. “And I wasn’t cheating on you, because we’re no longer together. So get out of my house.” You held your keys tighter in your hand, ready to strike again. He held his ear, seeing some blood dripping from the skin. He glared at you with rage.

“You’re gonna pay for that, bitch.” Opening the door he steps outside into the cold night in nothing but his shirt and sweatpants. “Have fun fucking your boss and getting fired.”

And with that, he took his car and drove off. No amount of relief hit you more than that very moment after his car was out of sight. You closed the door and smiled.

——

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Text

A Lonely Heaven

Summary: The five times Robert gave you something and the one time he took. Pairing: Soft Dark!Robert Fischer/F!Reader Word Count: 7.2k A/N: Written for Day Three’s prompt from the Haunted Hoedown Challenge Hosted by inklore and psychedelic-ink. Today’s prompt was “inspired by your favorite Lana del Rey song + yandere.” The song I chose was “Say Yes to Heaven.” I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Gaslighting, isolation, drugging, kidnapping, general unhinged behavior, smut (unprotected sex, female receiving oral, fingering), reader calls him Bobby for reasons, minor character death (not described) ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED

Robert just needed a minute. Just a minute to breathe before the next meeting with men and women he’d rather never see again. But he was heir to the empire. He had a reputation to uphold and a company to run.

But still, he just needed a moment.

He slipped into the blessedly empty break room just down the hall and stared at the coffee maker for a moment. He didn’t need coffee. He didn’t need anything that the break room could provide except silence-

“Hey, I’m sorry, can I get to the coffee? If I don’t get my boss a refill, I’m fired.”

Robert turned at the sound of soft if not frazzled voice and saw you. He expected to see you flinch at the sight of him before apologizing—most people did when they spotted him. But not you. There wasn’t an ounce of recognition on your face.

You didn’t know who he was.

Robert stepped out of the way with an apology of his own and you were quick to fill up an abnormally large coffee cup with a faded company logo on the side. You also dumped three things of creamer into it and half a packet—exactly—of sugar. Robert must have been staring because you glanced at him over your shoulder with a small smile. “First day?”

“No. But I don’t think I’ve been in this particular break room before.” It was technically not a lie. He only knew of the room’s existence because he’d been shuffled by it each time he had a meeting in the conference room down the hall. He didn’t have to come in here. People brought him coffee. He didn’t get it himself.

You nodded. “I prefer the one on 12. They have better snacks.” You paused, drumming your fingers against the mug. “You look a little out of it. You okay?”

That was probably the first time this year that someone had asked about him. It was just a simple thing, really. “I’m fine. Thank you.” Your head cocked to the side, like you didn’t believe him but you still held your hand out to him with an offer of your name. Despite the coffee you held, your hand was cold as Robert took it. “I’m Robert.”

Your answering smile twisted behind his ribs. “Anyone ever call you ‘Bobby?’”

A sharp laugh punched out of him and he watched your smile widen. “No. No, never.”

“Well, if I ever see you again, we’ll have to try it out.” Again, you drummed your fingers on the mug. “It was nice to meet you. I hope your day gets better.” Then you were gone and Robert watched your hips sway until you disappeared, unknowingly taking his heart with you.

**1**

You hadn’t been the most sociable person when you took the job at Fischer Morrow. Actually, you could count the friends you’d made on two pathetic fingers and even then you knew they were hardly more than casual acquaintances. Moving to Australia was supposed to be a new start but instead it was the loneliness you had been running from compounded. Sure, you were paid decently. Your apartment was fine. But your boss was a dick and you weren’t even using your degree to fetch coffee and answer a phone.

God, you were lonely.

You picked at your sandwich as you sat in the park just on the opposite side of the street from Fischer Morrow’s building. There was a couple playing with their son under the shade of the tree. There was a small gaggle of women from the accounting department walking together around the perimeter, having traded their sensible heels for trainers. Then there was a small group of teenagers, probably skipping school, a little further into the park. They all looked happy and you continued to pick at your sandwich until it was just a mangle of bread, tomato, and cheese.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

Your head snapped to the side to see Robert standing at the edge of the bench you occupied, holding a small paper bag. “O-of course! Please do!” You hadn’t seen him in weeks. Of course, it was an absurdly large building with a matching number of employees. It shouldn’t have been surprising that you didn’t see him again. But you had kept his pretty blue eyes and sharp features in the back of your mind anyway. Your lonely heart leapt when he settled beside you.

“Haven’t seen you in awhile,” he started, pulling a sandwich of his own from the bag.

“They keep me busy. And you? Did you find the good snacks on twelve?” You winced as soon as you asked. Your conversation skills were abysmal. It was honestly surprising that he wanted to sit anywhere near you after your awkward conversation weeks prior but you weren’t about to tell him to go away.

He nodded with a smile. “Yeah, thanks for the tip.”

You smiled, too, but it felt a little stilted and you turned your attention back to your mangled sandwich.

“You’re in IT, aren’t you?”

Your fingers stalled their shredding and you glanced at Robert for a moment. “What gave it away? Most people think I’m in Logistics.”

Robert shrugged but his smile remained. “Do you like what you do?”

You snorted and popped a bit of your sandwich into your mouth. “I got this job because I have a masters degree in my field and I’m fetching coffee and answering phones like a secretary. But it’s fine. It pays the bills.” You grimaced as soon as you finished. You never knew how to say the right thing; it was why you preferred staying quiet. You should know better than to sound ungrateful. “But, um, what about you? Do you like what you do?”

“It pays the bills.”

“What department are you in, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Robert’s sandwich froze just in front of his mouth before he cleared his throat. “I work for the Board.” He then quickly stuffed his sandwich into his mouth.

“Oh, you poor soul. That’s got to be so stressful. No wonder you looked so out of it when we met.” Then it was your turn to freeze again. “That was so rude, I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “No, no it’s all right. It isn’t great, you’re right. But I’m thankful for it anyway.” He was quiet again as he took another bite and you felt a tiny bit of tension slip from your shoulders. Maybe he was as lonely as you were. “Who’s your supervisor?”

“It’s Reynolds. Why?”

“No reason. He’s the guy with the,” he waved a hand at his neck, “right?”

“Neckbeard. Yeah. That’s him. Very particular about his coffee.”

Robert hummed but didn’t say anything else for a stretched moment. Perhaps he liked the quiet like you, too. “You think they’re skipping class?” He asked, tipping his head toward the teenagers.

You laughed. A big belly laugh. That wasn’t what you were expecting him to say. “Oh, definitely.” And the conversation was easier from that point on. You spoke about your favorite cafe downtown and he suggested a running path he was fond of along the coast after you mentioned that your “favorite” treadmill at your gym broke. Was it earth shattering conversation? No. But it lessened the ache in your chest.

As you packed up your lunches, noting the time and how your lunch hour was nearing its end, Robert turned to you with a small smile on his face. “You know, last time we talked you said something to me.”

You squinted at him, as if that would help you remember, and it did, washing over you with a fresh mortification. “Oh no.”

“I was hoping you’d actually try it out. See if I like it.”

You were about to broil in your skin. You were sure of it. “It was a joke.” (It wasn’t.)

Robert’s obscenely blue eyes didn’t leave your face and he smiled. “Try it anyway.”

You rolled your lips into your mouth for a moment before saying, “thank you for spending lunch with me, Bobby.”

His smile widened a fraction. “I think I like it.”

“Then I’ll keep saying it, if we see each other again.”

His head tilted to the side just the slightest bit and the new angle had the sharp planes of his cheeks growing dark shadows. “We will.” It sounded like a promise before you parted ways as you neared the lobby.

You had a smile on your face for the rest of the day, even when Reynolds berated you about putting too much sugar in his coffee. You didn’t care. Why? Because maybe you made a friend.

Your smile only faltered when you were called into HR the following morning. Had you done something wrong? Had Reynolds really reported you for getting his coffee wrong? But the smile came roaring back when the stern looking man on the other side of the desk said, “Reynolds is no longer with Fischer Morrow. I’m officially offering you his position. We can discuss salary and benefits, of course. And…”

The rest of the conversation was a dull roar in your ears. Of course you would take the position. You couldn’t wait to tell Bobby.

**2**

“I like the new office.”

You leaned to the side, tearing your gaze away from your computer screen, just enough to see Bobby walk into your office with something tucked beneath his arm. You were quick to stand and welcome him in before glancing at the clock and gasping. “It is nearly midnight! What’re you still doing here?”

His dark brow arched as he moved you both further into your office with a hand on your lower back. “I could ask you the same thing, you know.”

You chuckled nervously, wiping a hand over your mouth. “Um, well, with the reshuffling of the department, some of the tickets fell through the cracks. I’m just making sure no one down here gets in trouble right when I’ve taken this job. Wouldn’t be a good look.” You leaned against the leather couch as he looked around your office. It was nice, truly. You could see your park out of the window and you had enough room to hang a white board so you could work through problems on your own, too. But it had taken a week for you to get moved in after your impromptu promotion and were still getting settled. It was surprising that Bobby knew about your new office at all but you weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe he learned about it from the board meetings he had to sit in on.

He held out what was in his hand and you gasped when you realized that it was a bottle of exceedingly expensive champagne. “It is just a little something to say congratulations on the promotion.”

That single bottle could pay for several months of your rent. “Oh, this is too much, I couldn’t-”

But he still pushed it into your grasp with a shake of his head. “I insist. You’ve more than earned it and you’re obviously taking your new duties seriously.”

You turned the heavy bottle over in your hand as you bit your lip. “Well, if you insist.”

“I do,” he said with another smile.

“Then I must insist that you share a glass with me. Deal?”

There was something in Robert’s gaze that had you nearly shivering. It was too heated, too calculating. But as soon as you saw it, it was gone and he was smiling again. “Deal.”

You handed the bottle back to him. “Can you open it for me? I’ll grab glasses from the break room.”

You heard the pop of the bottle as you hurried down the hall. When you found no clean glasses, you settled for two mugs and hoped that you wouldn’t offend him with the choice. And it seemed that your trepidation was unfounded because he laughed as he spotted them and then poured you both a large serving. He held out his mug toward you. “Cheers, to you and your new job.”

“Cheers!” You clinked your mug against his with a laugh before taking a sip. The champagne tasted expensive and bubbled all the way down. You had to “Thank you so much. This was really kind of you, Bobby.”

He waved it away. “I’m sorry I didn’t manage to swing by earlier.”

“No need to apologize,” you said after taking another sip. “I know the big wigs keep you busy. I think you’re the only person who has actually congratulated me, anyway. So, this means a lot. Thank you, truly.”

He looked at you over the edge of his mug as he took a sip, too. “Well, they don’t know what they’re missing.”

You bit your lip–a terrible habit you were only now realizing how often you did it around him. “I kinda like it just being us anyway. I get nervous around too many people.”

“I don’t mind not sharing you.”

You laughed.

**3**

It was a little strange, how long it took you to realize that you only saw Bobby while you were alone at work. It was like he only appeared when everyone else was gone for the day or you were in your little corner of the park for lunch. You didn’t mind it, really. But your friendship seemed tinged with secrecy. You followed his lead and kept the details to a minimum when anyone asked about who you were having lunch with or who your late night meetings were with. “Oh, just my friend Bobby.” You also tried to ignore that you didn’t know many things about him, including his last name. You weren’t about to ask though, afraid that you’d ask something he didn’t want to divulge and he’d leave you alone.

You sent a smile to your assistant from across the room when she locked eyes with you. She waved when you raised your half-filled champagne flute in her direction, silently telling her to enjoy the holiday party. She was new and lovely and so helpful. She was also overjoyed when you actually let her help with the work your department handled. She also teased you goodnaturedly whenever you would go have lunch with Bobby at the park and asked her to hold your calls for the hour. “Can’t hide him from me forever, you know. I’ll figure out who this man is!”

You glanced down at your watch. It was a quarter to eight. You’d been here for a solid two hours and talked to half a dozen people who really only wanted to double check that their tickets would be resolved before Morning. It was fine–it seemed like most everyone still pretended you didn’t exist. Maybe they’d heard about how awkward you were, or they were wagering about how you got Reynolds’ job. Whatever. At least you got to attend the party–the last time you attempted to do so, Reynolds had you running around the city to grab the gifts he “forgot” to pick up after ordering so he could give them to the rest of the IT team before the end of the party (you did not receive one).

Staying until nine would be acceptable, right? You showed your face, thanked the catering team for their hard work, and watched the party slowly get rowdier at the hours trickled by. Then, you could be asleep before 10 and finally try that running route Bobby mentioned tomorrow morning.

Solid plan, right?

“I was hoping I’d find you here.”

You turned, already smiling, to see Robert leaning against one of the pillars of the hotel’s ballroom, nearly hidden in shadow. “I didn’t think you’d be attending. I thought the big wigs would be having their own party.”

“They are,” he said with a nod. “I escaped.”

You frowned at that, anxiety gnawing at your ribs. “I don’t want you to get in trouble, Bobby.”

His hand gently skirted up your arm and you tried to ignore how he left goosebumps in his wake as his long fingers pressed like firebrands into your skin. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”

This was a new habit of his: touching you. You never minded. You had gone so long without more than a friendly pat to the shoulder or a brief handshake that you nearly cried the first time you felt Robert’s fingers trailing along your spine on the bench you still shared at lunch. “Promise?”

“I swear.” His blue eyes flashed with that strange gleam again–after all these weeks you still couldn’t decipher it. “But, I do have ulterior motives.”

“Oh?”

“I got you a present.”

Your grip immediately tightened on your champagne. Shit. “I-I didn’t know we were going to exchange gifts. I-”

“I am not expecting anything in return,” he said, thumb swiping against your arm with a smile. “I just saw it and thought of you.”

“Bobby. You know I’m going to have to take you to lunch or something as a thank you and then still give you a present. I feel awful.”

His grip tightened just a fraction as he shook his head. “Don’t. I actually get more joy out of giving gifts than receiving them.”

“Well, that’s too bad because I’m the same. You’re not getting out of this.”

“We can debate this later.” He pulled the flute from your hand and drained it before grimacing as you laughed. “The stuff I got you was much better. C’mon, I don’t want everyone else to see it.” He then set the empty glass on the nearest table and tangled your fingers together to lead you out of the ballroom and into one of the unlit side rooms. It was filled with folded tables and rows of unused banquet chairs but you could still hear the music coming through the doors. He only let go of your hand when he reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a velvet box with a distinctive HW logo on the lid.

“Bobby…” There was no way you could afford something like that. How were you supposed to reciprocate?

“Open it.” He gently pushed it into your hand and nodded with a smile when you glanced at him again.

With shaking fingers, you did and gasped when you saw the necklace carefully draped across the velvet padding. On a delicate platinum chain was a diamond pendant. Well, it was several diamonds set to look like a flower. It was the most beautiful necklace you’ve ever seen and probably the most expensive you’ve ever held. “I don’t…I don’t know if I can accept this.”

Robert stepped closer, expensive shoes knocking into yours. His cologne, leather and musk and money, slowly filled your every breath as his hands once again found your arms. “You being in my life has been my lone bright spot in a long time. This necklace is just a fraction of what I owe you, all right?”

“You don’t owe me anything, Bobby. I should actually be thanking you. You have been my truest friend. I don’t know what I would do without you.” You were telling the truth–he was your closest friend. Your only friend, if you were being completely honest with yourself. “This is-this is still too much.”

You tried to hand it back but he only pulled the necklace from its hooks and swept around to stand at your back. In one fluid motion, he was fastening it around your neck and his fingers trailed down your arms. “It suits you.”

You looked down at the necklace and a shaky sigh pushed through you. “Fine. You win this round.” When you turned to look at him, you were rewarded with another one of his smiles. “Don’t think I won’t try to pay you back.”

A new song started, something slow and soft, and Robert turned his head to hear it better for a moment before looking at you again. “Well, as a start, would you like to dance with me?”

“Here?” You asked, a giggle coloring your tone.

“Yeah. Just us.” He held out a hand, long fingers angled toward you.

This felt like a step toward something new. Something different than the quiet friendship you’d carefully protected. It would be a lie to say that you hadn’t thought of him in that way–he was beautiful. And kind to you. And funny. So, you put your hand in his and laughed as he hauled you close. His other arm wrapped tightly around your back as he held your hand close to his chest and started to lead you in a dance that had your heart racing despite the slow movements.

Without even thinking, your other hand inched its way up his arm to settle at the nape of his neck and your fingers absentmindedly pushed through his hair. “Thank you, Bobby. For everything. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out. I promise.”

**4**

This was embarrassing.

So embarrassing.

How did you not connect the dots? Your Bobby was Robert fucking Fischer. Successor to the Fischer Morrow empire. You had been palling around with a billionaire heir apparent. You had complained about how the board was fucking up to him. You had said that you couldn’t imagine being a Fischer because, “it just seems miserable.” You had literally said you felt bad for Maurice’s son because “that old man seems like an asshole.”

Wonderful.

Fantastic.

You wanted to walk out into the ocean and swim to the nearest uninhabited island to escape your shame. But you couldn’t because you were watching Robert give a speech to the entirety of Fischer Morrow about the future of the company because his father’s health had taken a sharp decline in the last handful of weeks. You had tucked yourself into the back of the assembled crowd, wishing you had just watched it online in your office instead. How could you miss it? His suits were tailored and designer. He was always perfectly put together. You had once vaguely recognized the Hermès logo on his watch and had thought it had been a holiday gift from the board.

He’d probably bought it on a whim–the tens of thousands it cost wasn’t even a drop in the bucket to him.

Robert finished his speech and nodded his head in response to the applause he earned before stepping away from the podium so CFO could take over, giving further explanation to the expansion planned for Fischer Morrow. You didn’t hear any of it. You were too focused on Robert moving at the edges of the crowd.

Right toward you.

Your fingers fiddled mindlessly with the diamond pendant around your throat. You had worn it every day since he had given it to you. You should have known better.

Before you could even think to do anything at all, Robert’s fingers were circling around your wrist and you were being pulled out of the room. He was quiet as he led you into an empty conference room and shut the door with a soft snap as soon as you were inside.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted, tugging your arm out of his grip and folding your arms over your stomach protectively. “I’m sorry I said all those things.”

“What?” His brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“All…all the things I said about the company, about your father-”

“They needed to be said. I like that you felt comfortable enough to say that to me.”

You scrubbed a hand over your mouth as you started to pace around the table, a million and one thoughts racing through your brain and all of them landed on one conclusion. “Was this just some game? To see what the little worker bee thought of the hive?”

A short breath pushed out of him as he rounded the conference table and grabbed at your hands again to pull you to a stop. Your poor heart hiccuped when he laced your fingers together. “It was never a game. I sought you out because you treated me like I was my own person instead of someone who only stood in my father’s shadow. You saw me, not my last name.”

“Robert-”

His grip tightened, near desperate. “No. No, I’m Bobby to you, remember?”

“I never would have called you that if I had known who you are.” The words were small, as small as you felt in his presence now. But still, you couldn’t pull away from him.

“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. I’m still your Bobby. Nothing’s changed.” His voice was soft. Almost pleading. It cracked at something behind your ribs you had tried to ignore for the sake of the friendship.

“Everything’s changed! You are so far up the corporate ladder above me I shouldn’t even be on your radar.” You finally pulled your hands from his and hated the look in his clear blue eyes. It was unbidden hurt. But your mind jumped to something else. “You had Reynolds fired.”

Robert’s answering silence was answer enough.

“God. I didn’t even earn this position did I? You just felt bad for the stupid, lonely girl in the park-”

Robert was on you in a flash, crowding you against the table without even needing to touch you. “You earned it. I looked into your work history. I saw your credentials. Reynolds knew you were better suited to his job and stepped all over you because of it. I only gave you what you deserved.”

“So, you admit it-”

“I admit that you were better suited. I admit that your department is better for it, too. I admit that I did it because I just wanted to see you smile again.”

Your next breath stalled in your throat and you hated that you felt your chin wobble. What was he saying? “Robert-”

“And it wasn’t pity. It was selfish of me. I wanted to see you smile. I wanted to give you something no one else could. So I did.” Slowly, so slowly, his hands skirted a familiar path up your arms until he was cupping the back of your head and pressing the pads of his thumbs beneath the hinge of your jaw. You could feel each breath he took against the sensitive skin of your lips. “I want to give you everything because you have given me more than I could ever repay. You were lonely. So was I. And we found each other, doesn’t that still matter?”

“I-”

“Let me be your Bobby again. Nothing’s changed, I promise.”

You searched his perfect blue eyes and wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that he felt what you did. That it was okay to feel this, that it was okay to keep him tucked in the confines of your heart where he had burrowed. “You know this has changed, Bobby.” You watched his shoulders sag in relief at the sound of the nickname. “You know it.”

He agreed, nodding just once. “I can’t hide it anymore. You’re right. But I’m still the man sitting next to you on the bench. I’m still sipping champagne out of mugs with you at midnight. I’m still dancing with you in empty rooms. And I’m hoping all that I am, all the charade and everything behind it, is enough for you. I am asking you to have me because of it all, in spite of it all.”

“What will I be to you?” You asked, your voice little more than a whisper.

Robert paused and you watched his pupils start to blow, black eating blue. “You’d be mine.” And then he was kissing you, plush mouth pressing against yours and stealing your next breath. Your hands scrambled to find purchase in the fine fabric of his suit jacket as he hauled you closer, like he was trying to devour you.

You would happily let him.

When he pressed at the seam of your lips, you readily gave in and let him lick into your mouth, searching and wanting. One of his hands fell to your hip as he swallowed a whine building in your throat and he hauled you onto the edge of the table, knocking your legs apart so he could slot himself between them, like he’d always meant to be there.

Maybe he was. Maybe this was inevitable. It certainly felt like it.

Your shaking hands pushed at his jacket and he hurriedly shrugged it off, never moving his mouth from yours and not caring when it hit the floor. “So fucking perfect,” he murmured against your kiss-bitten lips. “And all mine.”

“And you’re mine,” you whispered in return, tugging at his tie next.

A sharp knock at the door halted your next breath. Robert froze, too, lips still pressed to yours.

“Mister Fischer, you’re needed upstairs,” came a stressed, tinny from the other side.

Then you were giggling against him, feeling like a teenager, and you moved to press your face to his shoulder to try to quiet the noise. But then he was laughing, too, and stealing another kiss. “Let’s get out of here.”

**5**

Robert’s father was dying.

There was no more denying it. You watched Robert waffle between heartbreak and resignation and tried to help him through it all, even though what he was feeling was foreign to you. You’d been alone your entire life, growing up at an overrun group home for kids who couldn’t find a foster family to take them and then shuffling from empty dorm room to empty apartment after aging out. But still, you let him burrow his head into your chest when he needed just the world to be quiet. It had been only a handful of weeks since he’d kissed you, asking you to take him for all that he was, but it felt like you had been with him for years, settling into a domestic routine that felt like something out of a romance novel. Something you had only ever wished you could have. You just wished you could ease the ache he was fighting.

You were in his office, the rest of the building having long been deserted at the end of the work day, pushing your fingers through his hair as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Tell me what you need,” you murmured.

“I just need you.” His words vibrated as he spoke them into the fabric of your shirt.

“Bobby,” you started, pressing your hands beneath his chin so he looked up at you. “I am always going to be here, okay? But let me lighten your load. Want me to grab dinner so we can try to knock out some of that paperwork Browning saddled you with?” You smoothed your finger over one of his eyebrows and watched his eyes flutter shut for a moment.

“He means well. He wants me to really know what I’m doing before I officially take the reins.”

“I think he’s being lazy and then schmoozing the rest of the board while you’re in here, working your fingers to the bone,” you said with a smile to try to lessen the blow because you knew how much his ‘uncle’ Peter meant to him. You, however, thought he was a snake.

Robert was quiet as he looked up at you and you felt him squeeze you a little tighter before he stood and pressed a firm kiss to your mouth. “I have a better idea.”

“What could possibly be better than shitty takeout and monotonous paperwork?” You teased, earning a pinch to your side.

“How about you, me, and a bottle of that champagne you like and we just lock ourselves away at my house for the weekend?”

Your agreement was on the tip of your tongue. You could feel it. But he’d played this card before. “You’re going to say ‘after I let you finish this paperwork,’ aren’t you?”

His smile was tired as he danced his fingers down your spine. “God, you’re perfect.”

“You’re not getting out of this, Bobby. Let me help you.” The next noise out of you was an undignified squeak as he grabbed at your hips and hoisted you onto the top of his desk. “What’re you doing?”

“Convincing you to let me do my work.”

“It is Browning’s wor-” Your words halted when his warm hands slipped beneath the hem of your skirt and deftly pushed it up to your waist, exposing your silk stockings and lace garter belt. “You’re fighting dirty.”

Robert only smirked and sank back to his knees as he pulled your underwear down in one swift motion. He licked a bold stripe up your folds that had your head immediately tilting back with a gasp. Again and again, he did it until he closed his warm, wet mouth around your clit and sucked until you were keening, sinking your fingers into his hair again. He always knew just how to turn your spine to jelly with a few flicks of his tongue but his real talent was-

“Oh my god!”

Robert sank his teeth into the dough of your thigh as his long fingers slid into your wet heat and easily found that spot inside you that had sparks bursting behind your eyes. If your mind was capable of doing more than pleading pleasepleasepleaseBobbyplease, you may have felt his lips press a smile into your thigh before his mouth descended on you again, working in tandem with his excruciatingly wonderful fingers.

Your thighs clamped around his head but Robert was undeterred and kept licking and sucking and pushing. Wet, sloppy noises filled the air, punctuated by your whimpers and pleas, until you were crying out with your abrupt release and your entire body felt like you’d been dipped in molten heat that fizzled down to your fingers. You collapsed onto the desk in a heap, thighs sagging open as Robert gave a few last kitten licks to your clit until you pushed him away with a whine. When he pulled his fingers out, you could feel your slick puddling below you and you spotted a damp spot on the cuff of his shirt. Damn.

Robert, however, was unfazed and licked his fingers clean as you tried and failed to catch your breath.

“I know just how to get you to cooperate.” His fingers danced over your thighs, still shaking with aftershocks. “Look at you now. All soft and compliant.”

“Not my fault,” you said between labored breaths. “You don’t fight fair.”

Robert smiled, all teeth. “Not with you.”

**+1**

You hadn’t slept on the flight to Los Angeles. Sure, the first class seat was comfortable and food was delicious, but you weren't able to get comfortable. You knew tht Robert had said you didn’t need to come to the funeral but you weren’t about to let him go through this alone and had used the card he had put in your name to book the next flight out to be at his side.

A chauffeur was waiting for you when you landed and whisked you away to the gated Fischer mansion in one of the more exclusive enclaves outside the city. You’d been to Robert’s penthouse a few blocks from Fischer Morrow. He’d offered to let you use his Venice apartment when you offhandedly mentioned needing a vacation but also told you that his family owned an entire island near St. Barts if you wanted something a little more private. But this mansion was truly something else. Perhaps a better term to use would be Manor or Palace. You thanked the chauffeur as he handed you your single bag and told you that ‘Mister Fischer’ was waiting for you inside.

Your heels clicked against the solid piece of marble of the entryway but you hardly noticed when the butler (oh, you hoped you were using the right term) took your bag and told you that Robert was waiting for you in the library. Of course there was a library. You followed his directions and pushed the door open, unsurprised with its silence or its wait.

Robert was leaning against the fireplace mantle, nursing a glass of cognac. The crystal clacked as he set it down when he spotted you. You were quick to meet him halfway, wrapping your arms around him as he pulled you tight against his chest. The pair of you was quiet for a moment as you tried to press every ounce of love you had into him.

“Tell me what you need. I’m here for you.”

Robert’s next breath rumbled through him and he pulled you even tighter. “Just need you.”

“You have me.”

He was quiet again for just a moment. “I’m dissolving the company.”

You went to pull back but he held firm. “What?”

“I’m going to build something better. I don’t want to be a miserable old man like him. I don’t want to devote my life to a company when I have a family who needs me.”

“A family?” You prodded softly.

“I want a family with you. I want it all with you.”

The simple words had tears forming in your eyes and you just held him tighter. “I want that, too.” You pulled back, finally able to do so when his grip loosened, and pressed a hand to his cheek. “We can talk more about it after the funeral, okay? Emotions are running high right now. I don’t want you to think that you have to make any big decisions immediately. I’m not going anywhere.”

Robert’s eyes searched for something in your face but he seemed to find what he wanted as he smiled. “I know.”

You stood at Robert’s side during the wake and funeral and tried to keep him out of the spotlight when the photogs descended on him before the reception. He held your hand in the back of the limousine that took you back to the house after the coffin was buried and didn’t let go until he was pressing you down into his bed.

You sighed as he sank into you, hot and thick. He was always so good to you. Always stuffed you full and left you gasping. Every drag and pull of him was sending new sparks up your spine and you clung to him as he dragged you closer to euphoria. “Take what you need, Bobby,” you whimpered. “Take it.”

And he did. His hips snapped to yours, hard and strong, as his hands pressed you down into the mattress until you were only able to hold onto him, letting out choked whines and whimpers into the flushed skin of his neck.

“You’re mine,” he said, words in time with each thrust.

You could feel him in your throat.

“Yours.”

Robert bared his teeth and the next thrusts knocked the air from your lungs and you wailed as you felt him come, warmth blooming and spilling. His deft fingers found your clit and rubbed vicious circles until you were keening with your own release that he swallowed with a kiss that was all teeth and tongue.

Both of you were quiet as he led you to the bath and filled it with near-scalding water and some sort of floral oils. He held you tight against his chest again and you tried not to be embarrassed when he sent one of the (many) maids to fetch the bottle of champagne he’d apparently set out for this moment. Realizing that it was the same champagne from that night in your office all those months ago did make you smile. Robert turned and poured two glasses and pressed one into your hand. You settled back against his chest and sipped, frowning when it didn’t quite taste the same. Maybe it was a different year. Oh well.

By the time you finished your glass, you were exhausted and blamed the sex and hot water. “Take me to bed, Bobby?”

He wiped you down with a warmed towel and wrapped you up in a plush robe before leading you back to bed that now had new sheets. You were too tired to care about someone being that aware of your bedroom activities. You’d be back in Australia soon enough anyway.

Your eyelids were fighting to stay open by the time your head hit the pillow and Robert settled beside you. His warm hand cupped your cheek and his thumb smoothed a gentle arc beneath your eye. “My lonely girl.”

“Yours,” you mumbled, eyes closing.

“Mine.”

You woke the next morning with a raging headache and a strange cottony feeling behind your tongue. Robert wasn’t beside you and you assumed he was probably already downstairs, eating breakfast and answering emails. You would have to convince him to take the day off.

Work could wait.

You walked to the closet in search of your bag and…couldn’t find it.

Your purse was missing from where you had left it on the bedside chair, too.

Your passport wasn’t in the lockbox.

“Bobby?” You called out as you walked down the hall, trepidation with every step. Something was wrong. “Bobby?”

The house was silent. Unnervingly so. You could almost hear the blood roaring in your ears. You were almost relieved when you spotted the butler near the front door. “Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you so early in the morning, but do you happen to know if one of the maids, um, moved my stuff? I can’t seem to find anything.”

The butler nodded, quick and sharp. “Mister Fischer has made sure everything you will need is delivered by noon. I will have the maids bring it to your room when it arrives.”

That…that didn’t make any sense. “I…have you seen Robert?” You asked, just wanting to see a familiar face. Your Bobby.

“He’s returned to Australia, miss.”

Your stomach dropped to your feet. “What?”

“He said he left a note in the bedroom explaining the situation.”

That was dismissal enough and you turned and walked back to the room, metaphorical tail tucked between your legs. You did find the note and braced for an awkward break up or something of that ilk but what you found instead had your veins turning to ice.

I’ll be back for you. We can begin our lives together as soon as I finish dealing with the board. You’ll want for nothing, I’ve made sure of it. And you can finally settle into the life I’ve always wanted to give you. Learn the house. Pick out a nursery.

This had to be a joke, right?

Right?

But the windows were on an alarm system and a man with a gun would yank you back into the room before you could even get halfway out. The doors were guarded. The landline didn’t work. The computer in the office didn’t connect to the internet.

You were alone.

Alone.

Alone until Robert came back three weeks later and placed a diamond ring on your finger as he kissed away your tears. You weren’t sure if you were crying out of anger or relief to finally have him back.

“Why’d you do this, Bobby?” You whispered into his chest as he held you close. You didn’t have the energy to fight him.

“Because you’re mine.”

A/N: please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

#hauntedhoedown #robert fischer x reader #Robert Fischer imagine #robert Fischer fic #Inception #female reader

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prettypeppermint · 2 years ago

Text

complicatedly breathtaking.

for r. fischer.

The way your breast perfectly tear-dropped into the lacy fabric enveloping it--a wilted petal to a rosebud; the small sliver of air between your powder-pink bra strap and the slight concave of your breast line before it rolled into firm padding; the way the grottos of your collarbones pulsated and hollowed when your breath momentarily hitched in your pretty, little neck.

The simplistic details of the way his love painted you in this breathless, soft, portrait of a girl.

He loved the way your hair smelled against his nose and tickled at his lower lip when you pooled into the pit of his neck, tears melting into his skin, wearing nothing but your lacey undergarments which seemed to decorate your body rather than strip it of its decency.

He treasured that about you. About how you could never look dirty doing anything unless he had his way with you.

You were complicatedly breathtaking and simply beautiful.

He cooed into your scalp--as if kindling a dying ember or hushing a fallen dove. You were cuddled into him, naked legs curled up between his thighs and arms draped over his nape. You seemed like a sculpture that had come to life and dawned soft, plush flesh and warm blood. His lean arm tucked itself away into that familiar, pleasant valley of your waist. His piercing eyes--mirrors of the sky and reflections of the sea--peered at the top of your head. His other arm lifted with a lackadaisical heaviness as his fingers came up to brush a strand of wet hair away from your pretty face.

"What's hurting, angel?" he husked with an undeniable softness. His fingers trailed down the slope of your shoulders and back up again, eliciting goose flesh all over.

You pressed a wet cheek against your spot on his chest before letting out a breath that had been airlocked tight somewhere deep inside you. "Why do you love me?" you whispered, saliva coating your words like rain to a slick umbrella. You had soothed into a calm, now tracing small hearts on the freckled skin of his chest.

You felt the arm around your waist rub back and forth in that bend, both reassuringly and somewhat self-effacingly. He craned his neck to give your scalp a quiet, sacred kiss.

"I love you because you breathe life into things I didn't know could live," he whispered slowly, fingers ghosting up and down your spine like a cellist's, "And you love harder than you'll ever hate. And sometimes, when I look into your eyes long enough, I see an earth full of sunlight and plants and everything green and lush and alive that was taken away from me before I knew what fresh air was."

You weakly smiled into his skin before nuzzling further into him. Before you could doze off, he gently lifted your chin to meet his gaze.

"I love you because you're a breath of fresh air. And without you, life is damp and suffocating like I've always known."

You kissed him.

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ssweetleaf · 1 year ago

Text

million dollar man.

summary: you’re sick of seeing people talk down to robert, so you show him just how much you respect him.

robert fischer x afab!reader

includes: SMUT, rob’s asshole dad, kinda subby!daddy rob though there’s no daddy kink in this one, oral (male receiving), unprotected p in v, cream pie, breeding kink, semi-public sex, a really terrible ending because that’s all i’m good at

✩

“You ready, honey?”

The foyer sparkled around you, big marble pillars and stupidly shiny chandeliers all gleamed at you, causing your eyes to squint and your mouth to open in awe.

Everywhere you looked there were people, all dressed up in their formal attire— cinched waists and satin gloves paired with crisp waistcoats and bow ties, old money, new money, it didn’t matter, as long as they had a good seven digits within their net worth they’d be considered a part of the festivities.

And that’s where you realised you didn’t quite belong in that room, with those people.

“Honey? You listenin’?”

You shook the fog from your brain, eyes flitting to him. Robert. Your Robbie, handsome as ever in his suit, tailored to fit him just right, his tie matching the dark wine colour that was your dress. The dress he had got you and left on your duvet as a surprise. You couldn’t begin to imagine how much it had cost him.

You smiled up at him, small and not quite reaching your eyes.

“Sorry, Robbie,” your eyes fluttered to the floor, “just nervous is all.”

He stepped closer to you, big palms raising to cradle your cheeks, squishing them slightly and running his thumbs along the soft skin.

“You look beautiful, baby,” he said, full of sincerity, his eyes so blue and glistening. “S’no need to be nervous, sweet girl.”

You nodded, all bashful now, leaning into his kiss when he pressed a chaste one to your lips.

Robert hooked his arm out for you to take, leading you inside the ballroom with high ceilings and waiters that held trays full of champagne. You took a mental note to snag one of those flutes whenever you had the chance, you needed a bit of liquid courage.

Being Robert Fischer’s arm candy meant staying at his side at all times, with an arm hooked round your waist or a palm to the small of your back, any little touch to tell anyone that ogled— you were his.

His girl.

“Robert, you’re late—” standing straight and proper was his father, peering at him in a look much akin to distaste, not bothering to give you so much as a glance.

You saw Rob’s jaw tick.

“I’d like you to meet Thomas, he’s shown to be quite useful in the business, I’m sure you could learn a thing or two…”

Straight to business. Straight to the insults. The same old same old, shaking hands and discussing terms and money that you hadn’t a clue about— Robert’s teeth were gritted, hand gripping your hip to sate and ground him.

“Lovely to see you as always, father,” he spoke, sarcasm swirling on his tongue, blue eyes swarming and darkening at the mere sight of his own flesh and blood.

The conversation went on for a while before Thomas piped up, gaze settling on your figure, roaming and ogling, staring for far too long at your tits.

“And who’s this?” He asked, eyes never leaving yours. You felt uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly and hugging yourself closer to Robert.

Rob’s brows furrowed, a possessive arm tightening around you further.

“This is my girl-” he looked down at you, fondness and so much adoration swirling in his irises, mouth quirking in a smile when you settled your own gaze upon his.

“It’s about time you settled down,” his father spoke out before Rob had time to utter your name, “but believe me, doll, run while you still can.”

You frowned.

“He’s useless, I tell you. Absolutely useless—”

“I think that’s quite enough.” You took hold of your lover’s hand, tugging him along, “if you’ll excuse us.”

Robert followed along like a lost puppy, letting you tug on his hand and guide him to the nearest available bathroom.

The sparkly green tile gleamed at you as soon as you walked through the door, pushing him through and clicking the lock shut.

“What’re you doing, honey,” he stuttered, swallowing thickly when you pushed him up against the counter, smoothing your palms along his lapels and down his chest.

“No one gets to speak to you like that.” You muttered, frowning, and he smoothed at the furrow between your brows with the pad of his thumb, smiling slightly.

“S’alright, baby,” he began, cutting himself off when he saw you shaking your head.

“No, it isn’t,” you spoke, firm and to the point, hands moving to cradle his jaw and cheeks, skin smooth and shaven, so pretty to look at. “do you hear me?”

He chuckled, pressing his hands to your hips, swaying you gently, attempting to soothe you.

“I hear ya, sweetheart—”

“Robert, I mean it.” You swiped at the skin underneath his eyes, palming his delicate skin and marvelling at how pretty he was. Oh, how vulnerable he could be when he was with you.

You stared at each other for a while, eyes flitting over every blemish and dimple, savouring the sight as if the world was coming to an end, shifting to a close.

You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, a chaste one, so soft it was barely there, leaning in close, your lashes fluttering against his cheek bone.

“Let me show you.” You muttered, pressing another kiss, a firmer one, to his lips now, then another, far more desperate. “Let me show you, Robbie.”

“Honey,” his chuckle was nervous, voice cracking and eyelids fluttering closed when your mouth mapped along the sharp line of his jaw. “honey, not here— n-not now.”

You pulled back, an over-exaggerated pout playing upon your lips before you leaned in, mouth pressed to his ear, tongue flicking against the shell when you uttered into it.

“Please, sir.”

He whimpered, broken and whiny, and you could feel him against your belly, already hard and throbbing when your breath fanned along his neck.

“Okay,” he sighed, almost dreamily, bucking his hips against you and holding onto you tight. “Alright, darling, you know I’ll do anything for you.”

He was breathless, seeing stars, sucking his lip between his teeth when you lowered yourself to kneel in front of him, hands smoothing along his thighs, the expensive material of his Italian suit glided along your palms, smooth and elegant before you found what you were looking for.

A bulge tightened his trousers, stretching the fabric, barely being able to contain the sheer size of his big cock, you were sure if you left him any longer a wet spot would form.

“Please, sweetheart,” he was the one saying please now, petting at your hair and smoothing down the tresses, chest heaving at your kneeling form, looking all pliant though he knew you were the one in charge.

You pulled at his belt, tugging it through the buckle, the leather squeaking when you grew impatient with it, wanting it off. Then you unbuttoned him, drawing down his fly, pushing them down along with the tight constriction of his boxer briefs, letting them pool at his ankles.

His cock sprang free, slapping against his stomach, a long pearlescent string of pre-cum sticking to his skin, mouth-wateringly so.

“So pretty,” you cooed, reaching up to take him in your hand, girthy and long, everything you’d ever need, your fingers barely being able to touch from the thickness. “Can’t believe you’re mine.”

“All yours, darling—” he whined, breathy and muscles tensing. “all for you.”

You hummed, leaning forward to kiss at his tip, stroking him with your fist, slow and sensual, grinning as his breath picked up.

You licked along the length of him, along that thick vein that throbbed hotly, sucking his balls into your mouth one after the other, leaving the stain of your lipstick along his flesh, before taking his cock down your throat, hearing him moan and whimper at the suddenness of it all.

“Oh, that’s it,” he whined, thumb smoothing along your cheek, “good girl, s-such a good, sweet girl.”

You hummed around him, swirling your tongue around him and trying to take him as deep as your throat would let you, gagging around his cock, tears slipping from your heaves.

Robert felt his chest swell, the sight before him so pretty, suckling at his cock, your tears glistening from the light of the bathroom’s chandelier, so lucky he could call you his. His girl.

The ring box in his suit pocket felt heavy when he stared at you.

You took him further down your throat, salty tears slipping down your cheeks, leaving your eyes all sparkly and glistening, gagging around his cock every now and again, the sharp tug that Robert inflicted upon your tresses a big indicator that he greatly enjoyed the constriction of your tight, warm little throat.

“Yes, that’s it, my sweet girl,” he whimpered, hips mindlessly bucking with each downward thrust of your mouth. “So good to me, take care of me so well.”

Hell, if anyone decided to walk past the door to the bathroom they were situated in, they’d get an earful— the crude sound of sloppy sucking and his airy whimpers resonated around the echoey room. Someone was bound to listen in.

You had half a hope that Thomas was outside the door, listening to the sheer pleasure you inflicted on your boy.

“Baby,” he stuttered, whining and pawing at your hair and cheeks, desperate and leaking onto your tongue. “Can I cum? Oh, please, darling, let me cum.”

You took your mouth off him, letting your hand take over, slowly stroking him into your fist, thumb flicking over his head, so sensitive, you thought.

You pouted up at him, somewhat mockingly.

“Don’t you wanna cum inside me, Robbie?” You stared at him, whatching him heave and buck, cheeks all flushed and forehead sweaty, such a pretty, pathetic sight. “Was looking forward to it all night.”

You continued your pouting, adding a little whine to your speech, watching him nod exuberantly and stroking your cheek with his shuddering palm.

“O-of course, baby— wanna cum inside you, just wanna please you.”

You smiled, pressed one last kiss to the flushed head of his tip before standing, moving to lean over the counter, back arched and ass in the air, swaying at him teasingly.

His palms smoothed over your backside, ruching the skirt of your dress to reveal your pretty panties, a pretty shade of pink, a wet spot saturating the fabric that covered your cunt.

He groaned, grabbing a handful of your hips, kneading the flesh between his fingers. He gazed at your reflection in the mirror, taking his bottom lip between his teeth when he saw your pretty tits spilling out of your bodice.

“What’re you waiting for, Robbie? Haven’t I been a good girl?”

He nodded, still so red in the face, leaning over you to press his face in the crook of your neck, kissing your skin; a form of an apology.

“Yes, dear, you’ve been such a good girl. Always deserve my cock, always.” He hummed, pulling back to tuck his fingers into the elastic of your underwear, pulling them to the side and exposing your glistening pussy, juices dripping down your thighs and clit throbbing hotly.

Rob huffed out a breath, cock jumping at the sight before him, before gripping himself at the base, gliding it along your slit and bumping the tip against your clit, tapping it lightly before repeating the process.

“Hurry,” you whined, pressing yourself closer against him, wiggling your hips, the movement causing the ridge of his cock to slip inside your hole.

He pushed all the way to the base, panting like a dog and gripping at your skin, etching finger-shaped bruises into your flesh.

“Feel so perfect.” He whimpered, feeling you clench, trying to adjust to his size, the thickness of his cock stretching you out impossibly— you felt as if he was in your throat.

It wasn’t long before you gave him the go ahead to move, the subtle sting of his size still apparent, though the jolts of pleasure completely overshadowed the discomfort.

You were squealing into your arm, moaning like a porn star with every thrust, squeezing him and hitting your ass back in time with the buck of his hips.

“S-so wet, baby, so fuckin’ pretty, creamin’ all over my cock, aren’t you?” You nodded, yesyesyes, so obscene, you began to cry, heavy sobs heaving from your lips at the sheer pleasure of it all.

“Y’the only one that can make me feel this good, Robbie,” you moaned, blindly reaching back to find one of hands, clutching onto it and weaving your fingers between his. “M’all yours, Sir.”

His voice cracked when he whined out, squeezing his eyes shut smoothing a hand over the fat of your ass cheeks.

“Shit,” he hissed through clenched teeth, “baby, m’gonna cum already— m’sorry, sweet girl, just gotta fill you up.”

“Oh, please,” you begged, clenching and quivering around him, feeling the thick veins and ridges that ran along his length thrusting in and out, in and out. “Need it, want you to put a baby inside me, you’d make such a good daddy, Robert.”

His brain short-circuited at your crude words, hips stuttering and eyes going all starry and glossy as he came. Quick ropes of cum painted your walls, sticky and thick, and even with how sensitive his cock felt he continued to fuck his seed into your spasming pussy, your own orgasm washing over you with his filthy sounds.

Not a drop of cum was left to waste, all of it pushed deep inside, and once he was far too overstimulated to be inside you any longer, he stuffed his fingers inside you, plugging you with the Fischer prodigy and hoping with flushed cheeks and a beating heart it’d take.

All he wanted was to see you all round and full with his children. And soon the ring he had bought would be situated pride and place on your ring finger.

Soon.

#robert fischer imagine #robert fischer x reader #robert fischer blurb #robert fischer smut #inception x reader #inception smut #cillian murphy blurb #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader

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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 2 years ago

Text

You're waiting for a train...(4)

Painted Windmills

Robert Fischer x reader

description - Eames and Y/n embark on their intel operation and Eames only has one rule for Y/n; do not be seen.

word count - 2.4k

warnings - hospitals, blood (so minor tho), sadness

a/n - finally we have them meeting!!! Also I know some people may disagree with Eames' reactions in this but remember he is thinking about how this job is important for Cobb and Y/n.

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

If you want to be added to the taglist - here

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Eames led me in with his hand on my back in faux professionalism but with genuine care. We had dressed up all nice and proper for our first day. The thick black dress hugged my curves in a way I was not used to, and revealed my legs way more than I could stand. It felt constricting compared with the jeans (which I’d had for years) and baggy shirts I usually wore on jobs. I fixed my newly acquired fake glasses and my disguise was complete.

We walked up the stone steps to the house that loomed like my private gallows. Why was I so nervous? Eames was right next to me, and this was hardly the first intel operation I’d done with him.

I wobbled about in my precarious heels and my ankles practically gave out when I reached the fourth step. My embarrassment was saved by Eames’ quick grasp of my elbow, righting me lest I draw attention to our entrance.

Our fancy dress shoes clinked in synchronisation and stopped to face each other before we breached the fateful doors. One last debrief.

“What are we here to do?” Eames prepped me.

“Gather as much information about the father-son relationship and see what we can use to our advantage. And you’re going to be studying Browning to mimic his movement, mannerisms, and speech.” I completed with pride.

“Very good baby Cobb.”

“Hey! I vetoed that nickname!”

“The most important thing is don’t be seen.” I raised my eyebrow at his ridiculous request. “You know what I mean, don’t draw attention to yourself. And whatever you do, don’t talk to Fischer.”

I laughed at how serious he looked holding my gaze. I tried to leave to go in, thinking the conversation was done. But I was held in place by his hand on my arm.

“Don’t talk to Robert.” He tilted his head, and I felt the meaning of his words. He’d seen me with the picture. I shucked his hand off my arm and left abruptly.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” I seethed.

He met the quick pace I had formed so he didn’t see the distress I felt at his distrust. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust me, he thought he needed to manage me. Take care of me. Like I was a child.

We both arrived at the top of a dark oak staircase that exuded the feel of wealth and prosperity. The house was so quiet that my heels were like a gunshot in a library. I began to tilt my head up to look at the expanse of the house in wonder. It seemed it had more shadows than glimmers of light. The house choked on its own emptiness.

“Mr and Mrs Trent?” A perky blonde approached us as we walked around the first floor aimlessly.

I panicked at her assumption. “No, no, no, no. We are not a couple—not even--. Miss James.” I shoved out my hand hoping she and I would both forget my stuttering. Great first impression.

She reluctantly met my hand. “Okay, I see well if you both come this way, we can get you started. There is quite a lot to do due to Mr Fischer’s declining health. You will both be responsible for sorting through the different files; making sure, if an account is prepared, it is filed away, and if it’s not, it is highlighted to be looked at.” Eames’ and I’s mouths ached from the smiles we were forcing towards Little Miss Big Boobs.

But we both righted our faces to make it seem like we were focused on the 'challenging' task rather than admitting this kind of work was trivial compared to our own jobs. We placed our bags down, took the exaggerated lapel badges handed to us, and began to quickly complete our task. We had previously discussed that we would complete the task first, not wanting to have hindered the Fischer empire any more than we were already going to, then go about our snooping.

I opened my first file, quickly read it, then assigned it it’s place. I’d always had a mind that worked faster than most. Arthur used to joke that my projections run rather than walk. This meant general schoolwork had seemed mundane to me when I was a child. Kids can be cruel to the kid who always finishes first. No one likes a show off.

After I had read my 10th file in less than 5 minutes, I noticed Eames was gesturing and mouthing something towards me.

‘SLOW DOWN’ Ah I forgot. Don’t draw attention to yourself.

My job here wasn’t exactly defined, by Fischer or Eames.

Eames trailed Browning like a shadow, subtly mimicking every move in a sort of dress rehearsal. I tracked him with my gaze, in awe at his skill. Partially because his skill was slick enough to pass between everyone’s tired eyes.

All at once, a commotion began around my section. Some balshy intern had decided to push Browning for an answer on question he didn’t want to hear. He went on to sarcastically suggest that the intern should bring the question to Maurice himself. He strutted away and drove open the large double doors that blanketed the room. When the oak parted I found myself moving away from my corner to peek into the scene revealed.

Maurice Fischer lay on his hospital bed surrounded by equipment which stood in contrast to the dark interior that sat around them. Browning walked through and instead of approaching Fischer senior; he made his way to the window where a man stood. His back was to me, but his figure was distinguished. My feet edged me forward a little more.

“Argghh” Maurice flailed out his arms. In his frenzy, he had knocked down a picture from his bedside. The man turned at the noise and it was there I saw the face I had longed to see. Robert Fischer.

He moved to pick up the picture with a sort of meekness. And as he looked up to his father there was a sense of shame there. As if he was once again the height of a young boy. He rose, broken picture scarring his hand. I see Browning and Fischer exchange words. I inch forward more so that my frame centres in the doorway. Suddenly…

“Mr Browning, I have some—” CRASH.

The balshy intern from before slams into my shoulder and knocks me onto the floor. Papers fly everywhere and I audibly wince when my knees come in contact with the hardwood floor. Shit.

I compose myself, trying not to consider how obvious I just made myself. As I slide my pages back together, 2 more hands join my own. I stop in my tracks, registering the person before me. I reluctantly look up and fall into a pool of blue.

“Are you okay?” I sharply intake.

He studies my face as I fail to speak. When I see him poised for an answer, my brain snaps back.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*Robert’s pov*

“I put it there.” My finger drags down the cracked memory. “He didn’t even notice.”

My thoughts are overtaken when a loud crash reverberates throughout the room. My head snaps up, annoyed at the offending noise, but when I look up, I am overcome. I see a girl on the floor struggling to clean up her mess. I rush to her aid, glaring at the man who had knocked her down. As I passed him, I gently stated,

“You’re fired.” He goes to argue but retreats back into the office.

I kneel in front of her rushed attempt at clearing up and chuckle at how she had just seemed to make more mess in her haste.

“Are you okay?” She met my eyes and my breath caught as I fully took her in. She was beautiful.

Minute long seconds passed of us just gazing. I could have stayed there a lifetime if she let me.

“Yes, I am fine. I am so sorry about the mess; I’ll clean it up and I’d understand if you want me to leave.” I stopped her rambling by clasping her hand in mine. I then picked strands of her hair to place behind her ears to reveal more of the face she was trying to hide. Her spew of words was like music to me and what interested me even more were her little laughs between thoughts, as if apologetic for what she said.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

My sputtering was pathetic, but I was rendered speechless when he held my hand. I quickly retracted the offending limb to push up my glasses as if they could save me now. My thoughts were equally filled with his words but also my warnings. I had to leave and tell Eames the mistake I’d made so we could rectify it.

Together we had collected the papers into a transportable pile, and I stood up. But I braved it too quickly and found myself stumbling in my heels once again. Robert hadn’t let go of me even as I stood up, making sure I was okay. My leg which had gone numb from my position on the floor gave out and pushed me into Robert’s awaiting arms.

I let myself sink further into the perfect feeling of being in his warmth. He felt like a warm beach in the afternoon sun. But I quickly remembered my place. I jumped back in fright.

“You’re bleeding!” Robert exclaimed. As I stumbled back, he had noticed drops of blood adorning my newly scraped knee.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” I tried to placate his worry as I began to make my way to the exit.

“No, come, I’ll clean it up.” He grasped my hand and led me through his father’s room despite my protests.

“Mr Fischer, please, you are far too busy. I can sort it myself.” We had made it through another door that led into a room which was so uniquely childlike.

“Please, I’ve been looking for an excuse to leave.” He smirked at me and led me to sit down on the window seat. He went to a drawer for plasters and then another for disinfectant. He moved about the room with assuredness. He returned and lifted my leg so that it rested over his knees. I tugged down the end of my short-ish dress. He opened the disinfectant and dabbed it with cotton wool. As he went about this, I took in the room around me.

It felt busy but not cluttered. In the middle of the back wall sat a single bed with light blue cotton sheets. The sheets were decorated with multi-coloured windmills. The white bedside tables held many trinkets of a young boy. The chest of drawers was home to more pictures and framed memories. My head lifted higher, and I saw the sky painted blue and it held wooden planes that flew around the room with a freedom I believe the owner wished he had.

“This is your room, isn’t it.” I whispered.

He didn’t look up from my scar. “Yes.” He chuckled. “Not that I stay in it.”

We both laughed. “I could see you still squeezing into that.” I pointed to the neatly made bed.

“I have thought about it.” He remarked.

I braved my next words. “Or maybe you just want to sleep in a simpler time.” Our eyes met again.

I noticed a familiar picture which sat on the chest. And I realised it was the same one that rested on the window seat between us, covered by Robert’s jacket.

“Is that you and your dad?” I mentally smacked myself for such a stupid question.

“Yeah.” He spoke.

“How old are you here?” I picked up the delicate frame. I smiled at the picture of a young Robert blowing on a handmade windmill, sat in his father’s lap. I could feel the love radiating from this image. It now seemed so different to the coldness one felt in this house.

“10. The nurse said he may respond to being surrounded by happy memories. That was the happiest day of my life.” He placed his arms around me to join mine on the frame. “I just didn’t think that it might not be one for him.” As I turned to face him, I realised how close we were. One gentle slip and our lips would touch. Each exhale was felt on the others face. “There’s something. Have we met before?”

What was I doing?!

I retreated back, freeing myself from his arms. I had to leave. Find Eames and get out of here.

“I am so sorry, but I have to go—I just—I--.” I barely even finished a sentence as I ran out, back to the office. I threw my hair in front of my face as if that would help me now. Eames, Eames, EAMES!

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*Robert’s pov*

I ran back to catch her before she left. I was unsuccessful so I asked Browning. She’d left so quickly I’d never even gotten her name. But I knew I needed it.

“That intern, what’s her name?” I asked my godfather.

“I don’t know, why? Where did you just go off to?” He responded.

“I’ve had to be numb to a lot in my life, but just then I felt something.” I would see that girl again if it’s the last thing I do. "Something real."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

Eames and I were safely in our rental car, driving back to the warehouse. Eames seemed pleased at his progress and thankfully hadn’t noticed my absence.

“I have Browning down to a T and I think he is going to be the key. If we can somehow get Robert’s own projection of Browning to—” As he prattled on, I struggled to quieten my breathing after my speedy getaway. All I could do was watch the world pass by my window, willing my mind to forget everything that just happened. How Cinderella of me.

“You, okay?” Eames looked over to me concerned.

“Yeah. I think the bad relationship with the father is the way in. Everything about that dynamic is so…broken.” I softly spoke.

“Nice. I like a good gap to sneak through.” I rolled my eyes at his childishness but also couldn’t help but laugh.

“He saw me.” I admitted.

The car came to a grinding halt. I sat cowering hearing Eames’ heavy sighs. “I’m sorry.” I managed to stumble out through my choked throat. Eames’ head hung low in his hands.

“Why?” he huffed out.

“I didn’t really have much control over it!” I argued back. This wasn’t a complete lie, in more ways than one. It had to happen. “Please don’t tell my dad, I can’t have him thinking I blew this whole case. Because I didn’t okay, because it’s fixable! You know that! Please you can help me fix it!” I was now begging Eames by scrambling at his coat to force him to look into my apologetic eyes.

“I thought you were better than that.” He spat.

“So did I.” I slumped back in my seat. A minute of silence passed. We both just stewed in it.

“I won’t tell your dad.” I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding on to. “But-“ I gave him my entire focus. “You mustn’t get distracted. Promise?” He held his pinkie out to me. I giggled remembering fondly.

“I promise.” I finished, linking my pinkie with his and then we both kissed our thumbs together whilst making a corresponding sound.

We drove off once more. Eames satisfied in the promise he’d made me make. I was terrified that I would break it.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

a/n - they've finally met!!

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994 @bearchermer

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mydear-corinthian · 7 months ago

Text

phone call

synopsis - tommy receives a phone call in the middle of having sex with his wife.

pairing - tommy shelby x reader / thomas shelby x reader

warnings - SMUT +18, rough sex, use of foul language, breeding kink, praising kink, creampie, just full of porn, unprotected sex, p in v

notes - short (w.c <850), gif and picture isn't mine, divider is mine

main masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist

His hands explored every inch of your sensitive body with a satisfying touch that sent shivers down your spine. There was an irresistible affection between the two of you that was endless. Your breath caught as his dominant, wild hip thrusts into yours, causing hectic, unrestrained moans with every thrust.

"Oh my God- yes, Thomas!"

As he pushed you farther into the mattress, his weight and heat surrounded you as you lay beneath him, your bodies linked. He drew closer as your legs coiled around his hips, stretching you in the most delicious way as he slid deeper with each thrust. Tommy started to breathe hard, his chest heaving as sweat collected on his forehead and trickled down to mix with the heat from your smooth skin. He met your gaze with lust and something deeper than that.

"Yes, baby.. fuck- you take me so well.. so fucking well," he praised on your ear as he rested his head on your neck, his deep thrusts not stopping.

The telephone on top of the nightstand beside your shared bed rang loudly. Your husband stopped, looking at the phone near him.

Who the fuck is calling at this hour?

Tommy picked the phone up, not leaving the bed.

"Thomas Shelby." he answered.

You expected him that he would draw away and stop, especially when the phone rang. He stopped and reached for it, and you felt upset. Tommy, though, chose to stay still and answered the phone with one hand while tightening his grip on your waist with the other and suddenly thrusting his hips forward once more.

His thrusts continued to shock you, causing your body to tense in surprise, but before you could respond, pleasure took over. His cock sank farther, each malicious movement finding that exact spot. You ended up speechless by both of his soothing phone voice and the way he caused your body to react to him.

"What ha-happened?" Tommy asked over the phone, his breathing heavily telling each question with a struggled and unsteady voice. He attempted to keep his composure, but the force of his motions made it almost impossible as his chest rose and fell quickly. As he tried to concentrate on the talk, you could feel his heart thumping against your body and his breath rapid and hot against your skin.

Tommy looked at you, a smirk painted on his face. With his free hand, his fingers toyed with your hardened nipples, brushing them and squeezing it.

"Tomm-" you covered your mouth immediately as you nearly moaned his name out loud, afraid of whoever is on the phone hearing that Tommy is fucking his wife at the moment.

"Yeah, I'll handle that tomorrow morning," his voice was deep making you feel wetter and wetter. A familiar feeling coiled down through your stomach.

"Tommy, I'm so close," you quietly moaned. Your fingers gripped the silk bedsheets tightly as you felt your high coming.

The room was filled with the constant sound of your bodies meeting, the heat between you growing with each slap of flesh on skin. Your thoughts were taken over by the intense pleasure that was shooting through your entire body as your eyelids fluttered closed, buried in a fog of ecstasy. You vaguely heard Tommy drop the phone somewhere in the distance, but it didn't really matter. The way he grabbed you closer and pounded your hips with such merciless pace that every thrust sent shivers of pleasure through your entire body was all that mattered. Heavy intakes of breath from him, merging with your groans as he pushed you both to the edge.

"Good girl, yes, yes.. Finish on my cock."

Tommy experienced the same closeness as your cock clenched all over it. With a deep moan, he raised your right leg to his shoulders. He treated you like the most precious gemstones that thieves like him could take. Tommy groaned and praised as his head rolled back.

"D'you want me to cum inside you? Breed you? Make you mine?"

"Yes, yes! Fill me up, sir! Please!"

His back was scratched by your nails, and in a few hours, scars will definitely begin to appear. You groaned, breasts bouncing and the bed creaking with every pound.

And then, after a few more thrusts, he smashed deep inside of you until he poured all of his seed into your abused and tight walls. It was warm and filled. Tommy groaned loudly and pleased, then rested his head on the side of your neck to inhale yourself. He waited until every last drop of his cum filled you before pulling out.

As soon as he pulled out, a mixture of his and your load leaked outside your throbbing pussy. Tommy got up, grabbing a box of tissue and cleaned the both of you up.

"Who was that?" you asked.

"Just the betting shop asking for me to check on something."

"You think they.. heard me?"

"I'm sure they did and I'm glad so that they know how much I fucking please my lovely wife." he chuckled before planting another kiss to your lips.

You gladly kissed him back but the kiss deepened and the both of you know what that means.

Another round.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder fanfic #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #x reader #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinder imagine #jonathan crane smut #neil lewis smut #robert fischer smut

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zaraquinn · 1 year ago

Text

i wish you love.

chapter i | from the start.

—————

summary: you and Robert’s relationship is strictly professional—working as his assistant and all, your relationship can’t get any farther than that. But you never expected your boss, Robert Fischer to be there for you at your absolute lowest; and now this relationship is as impossible as it gets.

—————

tw: mentions of domestic abuse, manipulation and a toxic relationship

word count: 2.2k

female!reader x robert fischer (inception)

requested by: my dumbass

author’s notes and additional notes: because i recently watched oppenheimer when it premiered and since then, cillian murphy has a chokehold on me that proceeded with me watching the batman trilogy and inception just for him (screaming, crying, moaning). Also, seeing and reading everything i can find that has robert fischer on tumblr, they all inspired me to write something for him too! So, for the first time in a while, i’m back to writing/posting something here and making a story that does not include following the plot of a movie (i realize i tend to do that a lot—which halters me to write in general because i have to follow the movie/tv show. Exhibit A is my wattpad lmao). This is also somewhat of a slow burn, so whoever isn’t interested in that, you probably wanna skip this one. Anyway, hope y’all enjoy this

masterlist !

series masterpost: coming soon !

——————

Your metal water bottle reached the floor with a loud thud, while water splashed out of it, making its way into the cracks of the floorboards. You stopped suddenly at the sight before you, and your body froze. Every inch of you went cold and your heart felt like it was torn to shreds right in your chest at the very sight. Tears flooded your vision in an instant and free fell onto your cheeks.

The tight grasp on the front doorknob on one hand was the only thing keeping you afloat. And with one smooth motion, all sounds and voices around you muffled as you turned around and shut the door as quickly as you opened it. Slumping onto your front porch, your gaze found itself stuck onto the floor and your shoes. The rain downpoured onto you mercilessly, but you couldn't care less. Quickly tucking your legs to your chest, the cold rain mixed with your warm tears and you sobbed.

That was until a familiar voice broke through the muffled world around you and you lifted your head from your chest—seeing him.

———

Three subtle knocks broke Robert out of his concentration. The papers were soon turning into a big blob of printed ink and he was secretly glad that he was interrupted before going on much longer. And with those three subtle knocks, he knew who it was to always rescue him from his thoughts.

It was you, his personal assistant, Y/N L/N. you worked for the million-dollar company for a few years now and worked your way up from secretary assistant to now the highest position in your field—as Robert Fischer’s personal assistant. Your skills were very impressive, even for someone as young as your age who can juggle dates, organize events and handle tasks; even when things piled up and got overwhelming. It was show-stopping really, as your skills made your role almost to the highest position. Robert was beyond impressed, and with countless late nights spent in his office working on endless papers and contracts, he was glad to have someone like you by his side.

Since you started working for Robert, he has been pining on you since you started but he knew it would be near-impossible and also very unprofessional. With his father and the company taking over every part of his life, he wished just once that someone up in the clouds could throw him a bone and not have Fischer-Morrow take whatever personal happiness he had left. Of course, that was never an option, so he opted to keep everything strictly professional and hidden. But those late nights of sneaking glances at the way your brows furrowed in concentration while reading, or the way you twirled the pen between your fingers while reading documents, or the way your lashes perfectly framed your beautiful eyes, Robert took what he got. Even if it was just spending time with you while his heart yearned for more.

“Come in.” He said softly, leaning back into his leather chair as you stepped in ever so gracefully. My god, did he think you were beautiful. “Mr. Fischer, I brought these for you.” You said leaning over and handing Robert a folder with important documents. Your voice was music to his ears and you were the only thing that could make him smile on these long days at work. A small smile brushed his lips as he took the folder from you. “Thank you, Y/N.” you returned with a grateful smile as you returned to your calendar in your hands. “Also, please don’t forget your meeting with your uncle in an hour. He wants to discuss the future of the company but has been booked up until the evening. So you only have an hour with him, unfortunately.”

Your eyes were downcast at the mention of his father and Robert’s smile dropped. Every mention of “the future of the company” really meant what happens after his father’s passing. He looked back up at you and gave a sad smile. “Thank you for reminding me, Y/N.” You gave another polite nod before turning around to exit. “Wait.” You turned around at Robert’s voice and looked at him with wide doe eyes. “Yes, Mr. Fischer?” Robert felt a small brush of heat dust his cheeks as he looked over at you. “Will you be there?” He swallowed; his voice now a softer tone than when you came in. “No.” You said and Robert could feel his embarrassment rise. “But I can be.” You offered with a reassuring smile to your boss. His shoulders dropped and he let out a small chuckle and sigh to release any worries he had in that very moment. “Thank you.” “Of course.” And with that, you turned around and exited his office.

There was always an unspoken friendship between the two of you. It was always kept clean and professional, but nowadays after the countdown started for his father, you realized just how much he needed you. Not only were you his personal assistant, but his friend. A real friend and a real connection he had both inside and outside of work. Not everything was about work, and hell, you both knew a fair bit of each other beyond Fischer-Morrow. Staying late with him in his office completing countless documents, agreements and booking meetings slipped through pockets of Robert’s personal life. Mostly during coffee breaks. You learned about him and how he grew up as the countdown continued.

You could tell that he leaned on you for support through these hard times. You knew the way the way his hands fidgeted when he was anxious or nervous during a meeting, or when his jaw clenched when people mentioned his father’s health state. You knew that look and the bob of his adam’s apple when he was in deep thought and could do nothing but swallow his worry. Every small detail about his habits you caught on and it comforted him to know that he has someone like you looking out for him, while in the workforce, he was looking after everything else.

Truth be told, you were glad that Robert was those bosses with humanity and feeling left in them. He treated you like a friend, not a subordinate below him and often showed you kindness and compassion through his professional facade. Although you don’t disclose many details, he also took note of things you liked and didn’t, and even made a promise to always make up your over-time at the company with him. Either by getting a coffee and snack for you the next morning or paying for you during lunch while out with another man for another boring meeting. It was the least he could do.

Along with your friendship with him, you started to yearn for another life—another life with him in it, and you can feel yourself starting to develop feelings for him. But you pushed it away because of how unprofessional it is, and your home life.

Work and seeing Robert was your only escape from paradise from a rather upsetting personal life. As the home you came back to wasn’t a home at all. It was a persistent struggle with a man you know who is starting to no longer love you. You have your suspicions, but it was a turbulent relationship that made you question whether he even loved you or not. Night after night you were met with something empty, or angry, or a switch of a teasing nobody. It was pathetic really. You knew it was a situation that could turn ugly real bad after a few glasses that shattered to the wall behind you, and you were ready in a fleeting moment to run off to a hotel for a few nights while you find another house for yourself.

That’s why you chose to spend your nights late at the company, with someone who doesn’t—no; who would never treat you the same as he did. You chose to spend your late nights escaping from your home with Robert, and you were so thankful.

———

The meeting with Robert and Peter finally came by, and you accompanied Robert as you both headed to the restaurant that Peter had chosen. Robert opened the car door for you and you nodded as you slipped in, Robert following closely behind.

Shutting the car behind him, the drive began. Opening your organizer, the ride had gotten a bit bumpy, considering the endless construction in the city, a few loose papers and notes had fallen on the floor of the car. They scattered to even Robert’s side of the car and he immediately helped you pick up the loose notes. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Fischer.” You swiftly repeated. He was able to collect most of the notes quicker than you did as you shoved your organizer to the empty seat between the two of you. As you were about the reach for the last loose note, Robert’s fingers took it in his own. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay.” He softly said, sitting upright on the seat and handing the note to you. His hands brushed against yours and he quickly noticed the slight purple bruising on your hands and knuckles. His face turned to worry as he reached for your hand with a gentle touch. A flash of a fight with your boyfriend a few nights back reminded you of your bruised knuckles as you quickly took the note from his hands; giving him an apologetic smile and retreating your hands behind your organizer.

“Thank you, Mr. Fischer.” You took the rest of the notes collected on your lap and organized them accordingly. “Is everything alright at home Y/N?” The car was coming to a slow stop and they were slowly pulling into the entrance of the restaurant. You looked down and gathered the notes back where they once were and cleared your throat. Looking up at Robert, you gave a small, but false smile in his direction. “Yeah. Everything is fine.” You looked down at your lap once more, avoiding his concerned gaze. His eyes linger on you a little bit longer, his hand slowly reaching your wrist once more. The valet opened the door on Robert’s side, greeting the both of you and stepping aside for the both of you to get out of the car.

You followed Robert as he walked into the restaurant. But instead of walking behind him like you usually do, he lightly guides you with his hand ghosting your waist beside him. His hands make it back to his sides and he flashes you a small comforting smile as you both are led by the waitress to Peter on the rooftop area of the restaurant.

Peter puts down his glass and papers on the table after he sees his godchild at the doorway and smiles at their arrival. Robert looks at you for a swift moment, for some semblance of comfort and you return one, just as he has done so for you in the car.

The two of you approached Peter as he shook your hand first, before putting a comforting hand on his godchild’s shoulder as he led him down to his seat. Robert takes a glance behind him, checking on your presence as you take a seat behind him. Whether it was for himself or your sake, it was needed for the both of you.

—

The meeting had gone on as expected. The two men talk about the what are the next steps for the company, and although hard for Robert, he continues; seemingly empty or uninterested in it all. You notice this immediately, as the notes you write down quickly are all from Peter than your boss himself. You look up to see the two now get into a deeper conversation, and it's not about the business anymore.

“The clock is ticking Robert. We have to think of the future now.” “I know Uncle Peter, but—” Peter puts a hand on Robert’s shoulders. “I know it’s hard son, believe me, I can’t imagine what you’re going through. But this is what we have to do.” Robert looks up at him once then back down to the documents in front of him on the table. He lets out a defeated sigh and sits back in his chair. “Alright.”

———

The night had rolled around and everyone slowly had retired for the day and you had finished your tasks. Rising from your chair, you packed all your things and turned off your desk lamp, walking towards the elevator of the large building.

The elevator opens and you walk inside, about to press the ground floor when you instinctively stop and glance at the fifth floor, where Robert’s office was. Thinking he probably left, it wouldn’t hurt to check just in case, right? Quickly glancing at your watch, you decided it would only take a few minutes, and let your finger press the delicate button. It lights up, and you ascend.

The doors let you go with a ding and they close. Stepping onto the main waiting area, you walked through the floor; through the waiting and meeting rooms and to a hall—the path led by shiny wooden floors. You make your way to the end of the hallway to the door of Robert’s office. His name is in bold, black letters embossed on a golden plaque.

You take a breath and lean closer to the door, the three soft knocks that announce your presence.

———

hope you guys love the first instalment! if you wish to be added to a taglist (i might be starting) please let me know in the comments! :3

———

! masterlist !

! series masterpost !

#zarawrites #cillian murphy #cillian smut #cillian murphy x you #cillian x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian fluff #cillian x y/n #cillian murphy x y/n #inception #robert fischer #robert fischer x reader #robert fischer imagine #i wish you love: the series

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acillianproblem · 2 years ago

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THIS WAS SO DAMN CUTE OMG and it’s the first Robert Fischer piece I’ve read. I’m lowkey in love, this was absolutely adorable!!

spend your boyfriend's money

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fill in this form to be in my taglist :)

pairing: robert fischer x reader

a/n: one-shot for robbie boy. forgot he wore suspenders and now i'm looking at this gif like ??? looking good though no complaints. anyway enjoy and please consider interacting if you liked it and ily thanks for reading :)

Everything seemed grey on rainy days in the city. The sky’s continuous clouds kissing the tops of skyscrapers, the slates of concrete stretching out as pavement beneath your feet, the surface of the car the chauffeur was hustling you toward. Even Robert’s damp suit jacket took on a slight silvery sheen, his eyes cold and steely to match.

You’d been his secretary for a while now, and had spent countless rainy days like these standing by his side in meetings where the businesspeople droned on and on and became a blurry mass of sharply dressed humanity. You had just finished one of those meetings, and blushed as you noticed Robert pushing you further under the umbrella the chauffeur was holding out for you two, walking in the rain to keep you dry.

He opened the car door for you, sliding in after you. The serious look on his face faded as he looked at you. The meeting had been particularly gruelling that day and he had every reason to be grim, but his expression was good-humoured as you huffed, trying to wick away the water from your jacket. Your stomach flipped. In the cool, dry darkness of the backseat his eyes weren’t grey, but a brilliant, bright blue, the warmth in them returning, and you could see the light rosiness of his cheeks beneath his freckles, his sweet face. His soft, petal pink lips curled into a cheeky smile, revealing a flash of his bright teeth to you. A loose, damp curl hung over his forehead as his face remained slick with rainwater. You resisted the urge to reach out and tuck the strands back into place.

Rob was always kind to you, and you had built a good rapport with him as you’d worked beside him, growing closer. You were friendly with each other. He was always annoyed about some deal or another, but he seemed to forget about it when he was with you, and he’d reveal a sort of comfortable, sweet self when you talked, though conversation was mostly strictly business.

He reached his hand out toward you, gentle as ever and almost a little apprehensive, and brushed away the tendrils of stray hair that the strong wind had ruffled out of place from your face. His knuckle grazed your cheek and you looked at him, eyes wide, feeling yourself blush. You blinked, turning away to busy yourself with reading your notes, ducking your head down to hide your flushed face. You could feel his eyes linger on you, the smile never dissipating, a chuckle leaving his lips.

“Shit. I didn’t realise it was so late, I’ll call my driver and get him to bring you home.” Rob said, guilt lacing his voice as he glanced at his wristwatch.

After the meeting, the two of you returned to the office to review the files of a partner who was being a particular pain in the ass. You’d initially come into his office to bring him a coffee and some files he’d requested, but as the two of you worked into the night, you and Rob pinned the blame on convenience, and you moved into his office to work next to him. He enjoyed keeping you by his side, too, but he wouldn’t mention that.

You were both sitting on the rug, the colossal amounts of paper being too much for his desk to contain. The heaping piles of notes were strewn around you on the ground, surrounding you completely.

“Let me stay. If we both work on it we’ll get it over with faster.” You protested.

His eyebrows furrowed, and he looked like he was about to insist when you caught him stifling a yawn. He leaned back, supporting himself on his arms as he crossed one leg over another. He worked too hard for his own good, and you saw him roll his head back, eyes fluttering closed.

You moved to file away some unneeded documents, but Rob beat you to it, scooping them out of your hands and carrying them for you. You smiled gratefully at him as you walked next to each other toward the shelves.

You idly ran your finger across the shelf, the organised line of books and files interrupted by a small speaker.

“We could play some music. Boost morale?” You said, a playful glint in your eye.

“Play away, maestro.” He chuckled, turning away to brew you a cup of coffee.

You swiped through your playlist as you connected your phone to the speaker, flashing a mischievous smile at Robert as you found the perfect song.

He cackled, burying his face in his hands as the first notes of Rich Girl by Hall & Oates rang out across the room.

“‘You can rely on the old man’s money’, huh?” Rob repeated the lyrics, crossing his arms as he feigned offence, his smile betraying his real reaction.

“Poetry in lyricism. Doesn’t pertain to anyone in this room, of course.” You retorted.

“Mhm.” Rob grinned. “Would you like to dance?” He said, with a dramatic wave of his hand.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

You laced your hands with each other’s, his arm gently wrapping around your waist. You swayed to the music, paper fluttering beneath your feet.

“You know…” He began, sounding a little hesitant. “We should… go out for dinner sometime. I’m getting a little sick of this office.”

“Mr Fischer, you don’t pay me nearly enough to feed you.” You replied, smiling.

“I couldn’t expect you to pay for me. Couldn’t you bring a benefactor? Let me spend your boyfriend’s money?” He asked. You gazed into his eyes and he averted his stare, exhaling a little sharply. His cheeks had turned a little pink, and he seemed shy as he not-so-subtly fished for the information he was looking for.

You laughed, and his eyes betrayed an anxiety as you slid your hands away from his neck. He cleared his throat, his confidence returning as he realised you weren’t backing away, just moving your hands down to fix his askew tie.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” You muttered, your fingers brushing his collar.

He beamed.

“Guess I’ll just have to pay then.”

#robert fischer #inception #cillian murphy #robert fischer x reader #robert fischer imagine

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viesanterieures · 1 year ago

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𝑯𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔

Robert Fischer (Inception) x female Reader

summary: The reader is a former extractor (someone who’s able to invade someone else’s dreams) who now works as Robert Fischer's assistant. When Robert treats her quite unfriendly she plans to manipulate his subconscious mind through "dream-sharing" to make him a better person. Unfortunately this method doesn't work and she ends up deep in Robert's subconscious mind where she discovers his hidden memories.

note: welcome to my second cillian fanfic :) it‘s is based on his inception (2010) character.

! I‘d say you don’t have to watch the movie to understand the story

warnings: mention of death, terrible parent-child relationship

word count: 3000

masterlist

…………………………………………………………………………….

"What the hell have you done again, huh? Apparently the alphabet isn't your strength, is it?" she heard a harshly sounding voice behind her. Immediately she looked up from her computer screen and her cheeks turned red.

"I'm sorry, sir. I'll correct it right away," she mumbled a bit embarrassed, while his stern gaze rested on her.

"I hope so," the man next to her replied and let a heavy folder drop onto her desk with a loud thud. "I told you to sort the documents alphabetically by our clients' names. Not a single document is in the right order. What have you been doing?"

Her cheeks suddenly felt burning hot and she bit her lip. "I... I sorted the documents by date?" she explained hesitantly.

"Are you serious?" His expression clearly showed his frustration. "I told you exactly how to do it and you're still doing it wrong."

With a guilty look she lowered her head and apologized several times. "I'm really sorry, sir. It won't happen again, I promise. I'll get it back in the right order, okay?"

Without another word he left her office and slammed the door behind him. She felt tears welling up in her eyes and buried her face in her hands. Yes, she had made a mistake but his exaggerated reaction felt unfair. No one was perfect and she was only human.

Finally she took a deep breath, opened the big folder and began to sort the documents correctly.

It had only been a month since she started working at Fischer Morrow, one of the world's largest energy companies. However, she despised every single second of it. Even though the job as the personal assistant of the CEO, Robert Fischer, payed well she couldn’t stand him at all. He came across as arrogant, selfish and lacked of empathy. Sometimes he seemed like a spoiled child who didn't always get what he wanted.

She better should’ve stayed in her old job that was far more unusual but incredibly exciting.

Quickly, she closed the now correctly sorted folder, got up from her chair and pushed the coffee machine's buttons next to her. Of course the coffee wasn't for herself but for Fischer, an attempt to pacify him at least a little.

She shyly knocked on his door and a deep "Hmm?" sounded from the office. Slowly she entered. Her boss was sitting in front of his computer, his head resting on his hands.

"Miss YN?" He raised an eyebrow.

With a forced smile she handed him the sorted folder. He sighed and glanced through it. Anxiously she watched him, trying to interpret his expression.

Despite not liking him she had to admit that he was very attractive. He was an incredibly elegant man with perfectly styled dark hair, high cheekbones and bright blue eyes. Sometimes she caught herself staring at him a little too long, just like in this moment when their eyes met. She immediately looked away, feeling her cheeks flush.

"The folder is okay now, why not like this from the beginning?“ he finally grumbled.

Relieved, she smiled and handed him the cup of coffee. "This is for you as an apology. No sugar, no milk, just the way you like it."

Fischer watched the cup in her hand skeptically. "If you really knew anything about me, you'd know that I don't drink coffee after 4 PM. Besides I switched to peppermint tea last week because my doctor told me that coffee is bad for my blood pressure."

With a sigh she let her arm drop. "It's okay, I just wanted to do you a favor."

Wordlessly, she turned and left the office, fighting back tears. She had done so many extra tasks that weren't part of her job but she never seemed good enough for him, let alone received a simple thank you from him.

As she lay in bed that night her thoughts raced and her feelings prevented her from finding rest. The thought of reliving all the frustrating events tomorrow again made her feel anxious. In that moment she wished she could confront him, hoping he'd finally realize what an arrogant idiot he was. Yet the fear of possible termination and ending up on the streets kept her from doing so. If only there were some other way to change his behavior.

Suddenly an absurd thought forced its way into her mind and she tried to push it aside. No, she couldn't do that. It would be too complicated and completely insane. However, the idea kept coming back, getting stronger until she couldn't ignore it any longer.

What if she changed Fischer's behavior through "dream-sharing"?

Her former job which she had pursued with her now estranged brother involved a form of espionage where they were hired by influential people to manipulate their competitors. It wasn't traditional espionage, instead they used advanced techniques to infiltrate people's dreams and influence their subconscious minds.

Teams of so called "dream thieves" or "extractors" around the world used similar methods. Most of these teams used specialized equipment with cables to connect the victims to the extractors just as YN and her brother did initially. However the two of them developed an innovative method that allowed them to avoid such tools, using pure hypnosis. When her brother broke off contact a few years ago after a heavy argument she gave it all up, realizing she couldn't continue this job alone.

She was no beginner when it came to these methods but she had never performed them in a personal context. Perhaps now was the time.

She knew very little about Fischer, except that his father died five years ago and that he had an uncle named Peter Browning. However that was a good starting point. Resolutely she sat up in her bed. Sleep was out of the question. She needed to create a completely fictitious scene that could make Robert Fischer a better person.

Quickly, she put the small package she had bought from the pharmacy in her pocket as she entered Fischer Morrow the next morning. "Good morning, Mr. Fischer," she greeted her boss in a cheerful and friendly voice.

"Morning," he replied sternly, sorting through a stack of papers on his desk. "This silly little task I'm doing right now is actually your responsibility."

On a normal day her mood would have hit rock bottom after such a comment but today was not a normal day. Today was the day she would finally put her plan into action.

"Of course, Mr. Fischer." She took the heavy stack with a helpful smile. "Shall I bring you another tea, sir?" She chuckled a bit.

Suspiciously, he looked at her with narrowed eyes but then he nodded. "Peppermint tea."

One last time she forced a friendly smile and closed the door behind her.

She carefully opened the medicine from the pharmacy and dissolved it in the freshly prepared tea, stirring it carefully. She knew this substance would make him really tired which would make it much easier to work with him.

Quickly, she hurried back to Fischer's office to hand him the drink and secretly placed a sign on the door which said 'Meeting, please do not disturb'.

He accepted the drink without a word, took a sip and then placed the cup back on the table next to him. She watched him anxiously wondering if he had noticed that she had spiked the tea with a sleeping aid.

Fischer simply placed the cup back without any interest and looked back to his computer screen.

Now it was just a matter of time.

With his head resting in his hands he stared at the screen in front of him. His inbox was overflowing with unanswered emails and every typed letter seemed to require extra effort. Tiredness overwhelmed him and his eyelids felt heavier and heavier as he took another sip of his drink. Perhaps switching to tea wasn't such a good idea after all but he was doing it for his health.

He blinked fastly as the letters on the screen blurred more and more. He tried to decipher the first sentence of an email that started with "Dear Mr. Fischer…" but his eyes began to burn as if he hadn't slept for days. His head suddenly became incredibly heavy and he fought against the tiredness.

Finally he decided to close his eyes for a moment to soothe the burning sensation. It felt better and he sighed with relief. But he didn't even realize when his head sank onto the desk as he had already fallen asleep.

Nothing but infinite darkness surrounded Robert and he was falling into an endless black hole. Then he suddenly began to make out shapes around him that looked like furniture. Finally he recognized a table with several chairs around it. The painting on the wall showing a cornfield reminded him that he was in Fischer Morrow‘s conference room.

Slowly, he could see some people sitting at the table. He squinted to make out their faces which gradually became clearer. The people at the table were his uncle Peter and Robert's two deputies.

All of them seemed to have a serious conversation and Robert moved closer to hear what they were saying. But they didn't seem to notice him at all.

"To be honest, I'm glad he's gone," he heard his first deputy say.

"That's true, he was not a bit better than his father, the old moron“, the second deputy agreed.

Robert held his breath. Was he being kicked out of his OWN company? Had someone else taken control?

"He had no empathy for us, exploited us as if we were his servants. No, we won't miss him."

But then he heard his uncle say, "The irony is that he was going through the same as his father. But I must admit he was far too young."

"The worst people are always the first ones. Has anyone heard when the funeral is supposed to be?"

When his deputy uttered this sentence, Robert's breath stopped and his heart began to race. What had he just heard?

With wide eyes he stared at his uncle Peter who straightened up in his chair and muttered: "Next Monday. But hardly anyone will attend, poor Robert. If only he could have been a better person in his lifetime."

Robert waved his arms wildly. "I'm not dead, I'm here! Can't you see me?"

But no one reacted to him and the people at the table continued their serious conversation. Robert finally gave up and his heart was beating even faster in his chest.

Was he really dead or was this all just a strange nightmare?

His uncle's words echoed in his mind: "If only he could have been a better person in his lifetime."

He was right.

Tears filled Robert's eyes and an overwhelming feeling of sadness washed over him.

Suddenly from the corner of his eye he saw another person moving and he immediately turned around. It was his assistant. What was she doing here?

She must have noticed that he had seen her because she looked at him with a shocked expression. Did she have something to do with this?

She quickly left the room and ran down the long corridor. Damn, he wasn't supposed to see her. Now the chance was pretty high that he suspected this was all just a dream and the entire fictional scene she had created would have been in vain. She could already hear fast footsteps behind her.

Fischer must have followed her. With her heart pounding she ran down the hallway and finally stopped in front of the elevator. This was a terrible idea because she had only designed the conference room and the hallway for the dream sequence. What waited for her below was unclear, probably nothing but the deepest subconscious.

"Hey, stop!" she heard Fischer's angry voice from the other end of the corridor. Without a clear thought she pressed the button and stepped into the elevator.

The doors closed, plunging her into darkness and she could hear Fischer drumming his hands against them. The elevator immediately began to descend.

What had she done?

With a jolt it stopped and the doors slowly began to open. Sweat covered her forehead, and she tightly closed her eyes in panic. Finally, she had the courage to see what lay before her.

She saw a light blue ceiling with small white clouds, a large teddy bear sitting in the corner, and a mobile with tiny stars and planets. In the center there was a small dark blue crib and loud baby cries filled the room.

"What's wrong, my little honey?" she heard a female voice call from somewhere.

"My goodness, can't he be quiet already? He's getting on my nerves!" The second voice sounded deeper, rougher, and less affectionate.

YN nervously turned in the direction where the elevator had been a few minutes ago but it had suddenly disappeared. Damn it! What was she going to do now?

With bated breath she took cautious steps and crossed the children’s room. She wasn’t comfortable delving so deeply into Fischer's subconscious. Relieved she saw a door at the other end of the room which she approached and pushed the handle down. One last time, she caught a glimpse into the room and saw a tiny baby lying in the crib before the door opened with a squeak.

It led her to a bright green lawn with some fruit trees on it. It was incredibly warm and the sun was so blinding that she had to shield her eyes with her hand. It was such a beautiful summer day.

She approached a picnic blanket where a small child, about four years old, sat playing with a doll. The child wore a white dress, had huge light blue eyes, and short dark hair. Behind the child, a young woman with red hair sat cross-legged, lovingly hugging the child and speaking softly to them.

Suddenly she heard the complaining voice from earlier. A man walked towards them who reminded her of Robert but with a beard, twice as broad, and only half as attractive. Was that his father?

"What are you two doing again?" he asked. "Vera, this is a boy, for god’s sake. Why are you dressing him in little dresses and letting him play with dolls? How is he going to become a real man?"

The little child immediately started to cry. "Mommy!" he sobbed and the woman protectively embraced the toddler.

The scene in front of YN suddenly changed. The meadow and fruit trees disappeared and were replaced by walls, large windows with long curtains and a couch on which a boy of elementary school age was sitting playing with a Gameboy. They seemed to be in a living room.

"And Robert, did you get your math test back?" she heard the father's voice.

Anxiously, the boy shook his head and continued playing. His father eventually sat down next to him.

"You're lying to me, aren't you? You already got it back, but you don't want to show it to me," he said in a serious voice. "I don't like being lied to, Robert."

The boy jumped off the sofa, ran to his backpack which was standing in the corner, pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it to his father.

The father briefly looked at it and then looked back at his son angrily. "Another 'C?' My goodness, put in some effort. What will you become if you keep this up? You're supposed to take over my company someday!" he yelled at him while the boy cowered in fear by and started to cry.

With a sudden turn YN left them hurried to the next door at the end of the living room, pushed it open and ran through it.

My God, what else would she see?

But then she realized that all the things she was witnessing were Robert Fischer's childhood, which he had apparently completely repressed but it still lay deeply buried in his subconscious.

Her feet carried her through a long, dark corridor that seemed to be endless. Completely out of breath she stopped and leaned exhausted against the wall. Suddenly she could make out a small bright spot in front of her. Was that finally the way out?

Full of hope she walked towards it only to be disappointed to find out that it was the glow of a candle illuminating the dark room. In front of her, Robert, about 15 or 16 years old, knelt with his hands folded in a silent prayer, crying loudly.

With bated breath, she approached him slowly and saw a picture lying in front of him, showing the red-haired woman from before: Vera Fischer. She was dead.

Tears filled YN's eyes and she began to sob heavily. His mother seemed to be the only one who actually loved him and now she was gone.

The room around her suddenly began to shake. Startled she tried to hold onto something but she grasped into nothing but thin air, lost her balance, and fell forward.

She gasped, her eyes wide open, looking around in shock. She was sitting on the floor of Fischer Morrow's office. Her heart was racing, her hands were sweaty and sweat beads covered her forehead. When she turned around she saw Robert Fischer sitting beside her, his arms crossed, his feet slightly bent and tears streaming down his face.

Full of compassion she looked at him and her lips formed the words: "I'm so sorry."

Carefully, she reached out her arms, embraced him tightly and held him close.

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian #cillian murphy #robert fischer fanfiction #inception x reader #Inception #cillian murphy x y/n #robert fischer imagine #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy ff

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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 2 years ago

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You're waiting for a train...(10)

You knew?

Robert Fischer x reader

description - Y/n is left alone to be confronted with her greatest fear.

word count - 1.7k

warnings - attempted SA, attempted r*pe, offensive language, tears, major angst.

a/n - this is a very important and angsty chapter.

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

If you want to be added to the taglist - here

“You’re in a dream, honey.”

Once the words had been whispered there was no way I could take them back. Each syllable had put a target on our backs and as I saw the realisation alight in Robert’s eyes, we simultaneously felt constricting gazes begin to penetrate the three of us.

I took deep breaths, refusing the desire to turn around to meet their eyes. My hand had remained on the back of Roberts neck. It had started as a sign of comfort but as my nails gripped tighter it became a warning. ‘Don’t look at them. Look at me.’.

“Darling,” My dads voice broke through my façade and pierced a vein which released all new gushes of anxiety. “Go. Take some off our tail. Give us two minutes.” I understood my fathers request and it’s logic was sound but still I could not move. My feet were planted next to Robert’s and that’s where I needed to be. I feared for his safety more than mine. I had been under attack more times than years I’ve lived. But he had no experience of combat and his danger could mean a one way ticket down to limbo. I stroked my fingers through the hairs at the nape of his neck. This gesture was caught in my dads steely gaze and his demeanour became stern. “Now!” Upon daring to look up at him I found no room for argument.

I reluctantly left the warmth of his body to stand. I fixed my dress as if it would right everything else. I swiftly turned on my heel to leave the bar. The purposefulness of my walk was bound to attract others, as I had left my subtlety in favour for a bright red danger sign. My heels clicked down the hallway and I picked up on several presences beginning to manoeuvre in my general direction. None explicitly heading my way except one pair of footsteps which I could feel breathing on the back of my heels.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*Arthur’s pov*

I walked beside Ariadne ready to assemble the team for the next layer. My eyes darted around on the watch for behaviour that would cause suspicion or warrant action. I also looked for Y/n.

We had reached the elevator and were waiting for it to arrive. But when I looked to my left I spotted Y/n. She was walking towards us in a manner of confidence. She didn’t blend in. She stood out. All eyes flocked to her unusual presence as she strutted down the hallway with an apparent presupposed destination.

The mark had been made aware of the dream; the projections were alert. This was not the time for anyone to be walking alone. Even Saito was with Eames. I had Ariadne. Cobb swore he’d stick with Y/n. So why did she leave? Unless she didn’t of her own volition.

I assessed her situation, analysing every eye that was solely fixed upon her. She was heading into the bathroom which seemed an unusual move. The soles of her feet picked up quicker and it seemed adrenaline spiked her blood to speed her forward in a speed out of the norm. Her body seemed desperate to remove itself from an unknown threat. I couldn’t discern the logic of any of her actions until she turned the corner to open the door.

My fist clenched but before I could move I was dragged into the now waiting elevator by a bustle of people wanting in. I loudly cursed.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

The heavy door pushed back against my bones, but I was forceful and nearly threw my whole body against it. I practically collapsed inside the room, stumbling in my heels which burned. My breathing quickened and I had to grip the edge of a sink to ground myself once again. There was no time. There was no time. But Dad needed time. Robert needed time. I could give them time.

My heart jumped through my bones as the familiar creak of the door sounded once again. I refused to meet his gaze in an admittance of surrender. His steps got louder until he’d gripped my arm to throw me around to face him. He slammed his pelvis into my own making my back crash into the sinks edge. I cried out feeling the burn through my muscles. My legs begged to give out but they only managed to slide around on the tiles as he gripped my other arm.

“Who do we have here, ey?” His words poured out of his mouth like slime. A build-up of saliva decorated his teeth like tinsel and formed fangs when he separated his gums. I winced in disgust as he leaned down closer to my body. He found purchase in my neck and inhaled deeply. My arms struggled fruitlessly knowing no amount of strength would ever be enough for me now. A tear dripped down my cheek over my expressionless face. It was the only way I knew.

“Not a talker.” He spat out both literally and figuratively. “Don’t matter.” He pulled me up using my elbows as handles. As limp as a ragdoll meant it was easy for him to throw me against one of the closed toilet doors. “I have a much better use for that mouth of yours.” His grin consumed his entire face.

At the throw my head thwacked back with the reverberated force and for a moment I prayed that I would not have to be awake for what was to come. But the darkness never came, and it never would. There was no way out.

I felt his grimy fingers grip my shoulders in a pushing motion. Staging my limp frame in a kneeling position. My eyes burned with tears through their tight close. He used his fingers to stretch out my cheeks, taunting me of what was about to happen. My skin ached at the movement. His thumb entered my mouth and danced across my rows of teeth. I gagged at the intrusion. “Now, now. No biting.” I resigned myself with one last influx of tears until my ducts had dried fully.

The sound of a ripping door startled the man and he barely had chance to look for the intruders before he was punched square in the eyes. He toppled down next to me and I flinched away before any of him could touch me anymore. My tears blurred my saviour but I pushed them away and I managed to catch a glimpse of Robert standing over me with a hand reached out. I fearfully took his hand and my shaking seemed to stop once we were linked. He helped me up and checked me over. He was careful with his hand placements fearing a reaction to any sudden movement. My body unconcsciously leaning towards his in search of comfort was all the confirmation he needed to wrap me up in his arms. My head relaxed onto his chest but my arms remained tightly held to my chest looking as if rigor mortis had set in. He tucked his chin on the top of my head and delivered a light kiss. No words were spoke about it. He stroked through my locks and the consistent feeling slowed my racing heart.

Through all of this, my dad was searching my attacker for weapons.

“Your daughter was just – what the fuck was that?” Robert shouted through his breathy confusion. But his arms never left my frail frame.

Without looking up from the body, my father answered. “Projections usually react to attack whatever subject is put in front of them,” He gestured up to myself and Robert looked at me and his gaze held pure anger. “Projections are actually one of the weakest parts of the dream and can only focus on one threat at a time…”

“You knew?” I whispered, raising my head from Roberts embrace. “You fucking knew.” Rage began to build up in my veins and I separated so I could stalk towards his uncaring stance.

He still would not look me in the eyes. “Did you know?” I shoved his shoulder. “Look at me. Did you fucking know?” I used both hands to childishly bang on his back in a tantrum. “LOOK AT ME!”

He spun around to meet me. He raised so he towered over me. I shrunk in this unfamiliar gaze. “Yes.” My lip shook when the tears fought to climb out once more. I’d never cried more in this short amount of time than in my whole life.

“All this time?”

His gaze seemed to soften before his next phrase. “Every single one.”

I tightened my eyes to will myself to fight on. Once they reopened, they had steeled. “And you still ordered me to go.” I scoffed at his unapologetic confidence in the face of this confession.

“You knew what projections do. And yet you still sent me away.” The lump in my throat meant the words didn’t come out easily but I fought on. “No actually.” I searched through his face which screamed of guilt. “You hoped it would happen. Well, projections can only focus on one thing at a time. Right?” He couldn’t give me a confirmation but worse, he couldn’t deny. He passed by my body which I could no longer will to move. My eyes held nothing, and the only sign of life were my quick shallow breaths and the final tear that fell.

“Mr Fischer,” Robert’s eyes remained fixed on my back even as Cobb spoke at him. He was confused by the conversation which had just transpired between father and daughter but he was sure of his deep desire to comfort the girl. I felt his eyes on me but I couldn’t let him see me like this. He didn’t deserve to be sucked into the crazy knots which were my life. I could hear my dad speak, asking Robert for a number. But nothing registered. As if they were merely acting out on a screen which I had a viewing for.

I sucked back and planted a faux smile over my dried tear tracks. I spun back around the armour of character concealing any open wounds.

“I guess we should start with room 528 and room 491.” My confidence seeped through and left my body.

Robert’s brows furrowed at my sudden demeanour change. But they more so held concern and disbelief at the appearance of contentment I was portraying.

We left the bathroom, led by my father. I felt a hand ghost against my lower back. I almost succumbed to the show of genuine comfort. But it only confirmed the worries in my heart. I stilled myself to force the decision I didn’t want to make.

After this, I will never see Robert Fischer again.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Omgggg Cobb always knew??? What did you guys think of the new chapter??

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994 @bearchermer @idkyoutellmesmh @mimimarvelingmarvel @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away @neotanpopper @deliriouslybi @folklorde24 @thefandomdiaries07 @viarosemcmissile @noirrose21-blog @thepoeticfirefly @xoxo-gothic-girl @skeletonwrite @jellyzelek @kaylamarie306-blog

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vervainandspritz · 4 months ago

Text

DANCE WITH ME, SHELBY

Word count: 2,4k

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, Tommy is a silly goose, blood, injury

INTERACT WITH THE STORY PLEASE

***

How could it get that bad? That one sentence filled his head to the brim, causing a hellish headache. Staring at the ceiling in the small room in the back of the building, just a wall separating the frustrated man from the chaos in the Garrison. Blue eyes, usually sharp and focused, now glancing all around, internally looking for that one moment where he pushed her too far.

A race of thoughts caused an annoying gnawing at his insides, going back to all the situations he could have used to… speak up, but he didn't. His foolish ego wouldn't let him live that down.

The music was so loud he could hardly analyse, but he successfully brought in the sight of Y/N dancing in a Peaky boys’ arms.

If only he didn't ruin it back then, Thomas groaned. Running a hand through his hair, he set the cap on a table before returning to the main room.

Straightening his back and looking around, Tommy noticed his brothers dancing between all the drunk people, cheering happily and laughing obnoxiously, just like they always did when there was a reason to celebrate.

The Garrison wasn’t normally a place for song and dance, but after the victory at the races, Thomas made an exception for his men.

Winning races was a big thing in Birmingham, no matter whether the races were fixed or not. Nobody would dare to ask anyway.

Among other people sitting by the bar, he spotted her. The woman so unforgettable, that there wouldn't be a day when he wouldn't think of her.

The sound of the door slamming shut went unnoticed by the loud crowd as he made his way to the bar. Several chairs away from Y/n Thomas took his seat, letting out a quiet sigh as he grabbed the bottle of whiskey that Harry instinctively set on the counter in front of him. Pouring a generous amount he nodded towards Y/n, and the bartender immediately got the right idea, pouring her a glass as well.

Tommy planned on watching her reaction closely, but to his surprise she knocked it back without missing a beat, making him raise his eyebrows.

Harry nodded proudly seeing the same scene unfold, before turning around and serving other people.

Usually at least a couple of guests would line up to him by then, but Thomas’ horrendous mood was hanging in the air like a thundercloud, warning off anyone who would think of coming around. Taking advantage of the relative solitude he let his mind spiral down the familiar way.. again.

“What happened!” Polly gasped, slamming the door shut behind her, seeing Thomas and Y/n make their way through the small living room. Blood dripped from the boy's nose, bloodying the already dirty carpet.

“I'll explain, I promise!” Y/N yelled from the bathroom before another slam of the door could be heard. Sitting him on the stool, Y/n tried to breathe steadily just to not start sobbing again. Her knees burned like hell, but she couldn't live down the way Tommy's face looked.

“I'm sorry” she said, shaking her head while reaching for a towel, and dipping it into the small amount of alcohol she had. Her hands were shaking, and so was her voice.

“Y/n” he said, but when she didn't react, his hand grasped her smaller one, holding it for a moment until she looked into his eyes. “It's okay, nothing big happened.” He tried to convince, smiling in a silly way despite his bloodied nose and a black eye. “C’mere” Tommy added after she shook her head, pulling her in for a tight hug. “It's okay, I'm fine, I promise. I didn't want them to hurt you, and I succeeded, like a man, yeah?” His voice soothed her slowly, just like his hand rubbing up and down her back. After a long minute she pulled back, nodding lightly as she held his head, cleaning up the cuts.

Tommy didn't say a word for another few minutes, just watching her face as she worked her magic until her cheeks turned bright pink. Clearing his throat, he finally spoke up.

“I'll be ugly for a while now.” Was enough to make her chuckle, and like always, Tommy's laugh followed right after.

“Thank you,” she said. “For saving me and… and being so fearless.” Y/n added shyly, not used to them saying all these nice things to each other.

Thomas shook his head with a breathless chuckle, before looking down.

“I wasn't fearless,” he confessed, making her raise her eyebrows in surprise. “After all, have you seen them? And me? I'm… short.” He chuckled and she immediately followed. “But I couldn't let them hurt you, no matter what.”

“You're not short! You're taller than me!” she argued with her cheeks all red.

“You're a girl, Y/N.” He pointed out, grabbing her hips as she started giggling some more, the gauze on his face shaking along with her arm. A comfortable silence fell between them for a couple moments, before he got up, standing right in front of her.

Taking a deep breath, Thomas ran a hand through his hair.

“Will you kiss me for bravery or am I too ugly for it now?” he asked, trying to appear even more confident with a smile still plastered onto his face, ready for a rejection… that never happened. Y/n nodded at him with a smile as she reached for his cheeks, standing on her tiptoes and pressing her lips against his in a sweet kiss.

“Take me on a date. To the cinema. Tomorrow.” She decided as soon as they parted, looking at him with big, round eyes and Tommy couldn't help but nod, with his face completely red.

“Okay”

After another two glasses sent her way, Thomas chuckled under his breath, eyeing the glass in his hand, when suddenly another hand pulled it out of his grasp. As fast as it disappeared, a feminine hand slammed an empty glass on the counter.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Shelby?” Y/N asked, coming into his view as she leaned on the counter, eyeing him with a serious expression.

“You were drunk before I stepped foot into the Garrison, eh?” he replied, turning around and facing her fully.

“Hardly” she said, tilting her head to the side as she noticed his hardened expression. “What's got you so down, boss? I thought we're celebrating tonight.” Y/N asked half seriously, gesturing to Harry for another bottle.

“Business as always” he responded, lighting a cigarette and offering her one. She only shook her head, leaning forward and pulling the cigarette out of his lips instead. Tommy kept looking at her, not caring enough to light another one. Just drinking in the sight of her eyeing him like that.

Only after a moment he looked away, glancing into the crowd with a barely audible sigh. Y/n knew him long enough to be able to tell how troubled he was feeling at the moment.

“Come on, Shelby.” She said, swiftly slipping off the counter and grabbing his hand. “You're gonna dance with me” Tommy immediately started shaking his head but didn't let go of her hand even for a moment.

“I don't dance, Love.” He replied in a hoarse voice, but Y/n wouldn't take a “no” for an answer when it came to dancing. Tommy somewhat reluctantly stood and let Y/N lead him to the dancefloor. The music was an energetic tempo leaving little to no space on the dancefloor between dancing, drunk people. Y/n led him through the crowd right into the middle of chaos, to ensure he wouldn't leave at any given moment.

By the time they weaved through the crowd, the celebratory song ended and the musicians played a sweeter slow song.

Hearing it, Tommy looked at her with eyebrows raised, making her giggle.

“Too late to change your mind now. Embrace me, Shelby.” She said sternly, in a joking manner.

Thomas didn't need much more convincing, the thought of getting to hold her was enough of an incentive. Stepping forward, Tommy pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her hip, keeping some distance between them for her comfort. She, however, closed the distance between them. Their bodies pressed together, moving in the rhythm. It came much more naturally than either of them would expect. As the music got more sensual, their senses became sharper. His big calloused hands kept her in a firm hold, leading her through the dance just right. Tommy felt suddenly a little more drunk than ever, taking in consideration that he had just two glasses of whiskey. The scent of her skin, her hair, the sweet flowery notes clinging to her skin made him want to get even closer. Closer than physically possible. Forget the alcohol, it was her he was truly intoxicated by.

Y/n could feel how heavy his breathing got, as he slowly let go of her hand, both hands wrapping around her hips and keeping her close. She leaned forward, both hands on Tommy's chest which made her feel even more… dizzy. His heart was beating even harder than hers. That was until he stepped forward again, and her face almost settled in his neck. The best part of the song came on, and the tension between them was palpable. Their breaths grew shallow and Thomas felt like he might explode if she didn't look him in the eyes just then.

Pulling back, he leaned down causing his nose to brush against hers, and as soon as Tommy's warm breath touched her lips, the song suddenly ended.

So did the moment, because Y/N immediately sobered, taking a step back and letting go of his touch.

Thomas could see the slightly panicked look in her eyes.

“Y/N” he started out, shaking his head lightly but she took another step back.

“Thanks for the dance, Shelby.” She replied, before turning around and pushing her way through the crowd towards the exit.

“Bloody hell” He hissed under his breath, trying to follow her as quickly as possible. It took him a longer moment, but Thomas finally burst through the door, immediately looking around and finding Y/N walking towards Small Heath.

“Y/N!” He yelled, going after her. For some reason it felt like an important moment which Tommy couldn't afford to fuck up. “Y/N, wait!”

Y/N kept walking, not paying attention to his shouting. Had he taken it too far with their almost kiss? She had kept drawing nearer to him throughout the dance, because the pull was impossibly strong, yet she couldn't bring herself to move past… that.

“Y/N!” He yelled, being mere metres away before finally a strong hand grasped her shoulder, making her turn around. He prepared a few words to say, but all of them disappeared from his head as soon as he saw her teary eyes.

“Why? Why didn't you come back then? I waited for you, Tommy, and you didn't show up.” She immediately said in a vulnerable voice, unable to keep it in any longer. “I was preparing for three hours to look pretty for you!” She was taking short breaks to sniffle quietly, and he tried to find words, but as always in such situations, it was difficult. Y/N had held onto the heartbreak of being stood up by him for years. The only man she could never hold at arm's length, making her feel so foolish. As he tried to stutter out an explanation, “and… and I..” Y/n started out, but got suddenly cut off by his voice.

“He took my fucking money!” He hissed out, pacing back and forth. Sighing deeply, he ran a hand through his hair while Y/N got… confused.

“What? Who?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowed. Only then did he stop right in front of her.

“Finn” He replied, looking into her eyes with his own eyes wide. “Back then… fuck, I was saving for that moment, alright? Times were fucking tough and… and I wanted to go!” He said loudly, rubbing the side of his jaw with frustration. “But this little bastard didn't leave me a single fucking penny! Took all the money and I couldn't show up in my old, worn down clothes and then… not take you anywhere! Not YOU, Y/N! Fuck!” He gave up on trying to talk calmly, the old frustration and annoyance coming back to the surface. “..and then, then you left Birmingham for a while, and i had no fucking clue how to come back from what happened. What to do or say. I was… I was ashamed.”

Y/N remained silent for what felt like eternity which was probably less than a minute. Thomas sighed deeply, bracing for harsh words as he came up, grabbing her chin and tilting her head up to meet his gaze.

“I'm sorry, Love.” He added, when suddenly… she burst out giggling, making him cock an eyebrow in surprise. Only then did she manage to reply between the sniffles and giggles.

“You're an incredibly silly man for a gang leader, Thomas.” She started out, and then.. he knew it would be okay. “If you came wearing a bloody potato sack and wanted to sit under a tree and talk, I would be the happiest girl in the fucking world!” She exclaimed loudly, pushing him lightly. “I never cared about what you wore or where we went, bloody hell, I was following you everywhere! Because I wanted to be around YOU, and that's all that mattered, Tommy.” Her hand covered his much bigger one, eyes becoming more shiny as she spotted the little grin on his face.

“I panicked. I can't explain how sorry I am, Love.” He added, his hand caressing her cheek while his softened gaze remained on her eyes. “I thought about you every single day. Not a thing ever changed for me.” He confessed with a heavy heart.

Y/n became quiet for a moment again before her fingers grazed his reddened, cold cheek.

“You look like you've seen a ghost.” She eventually said, making him chuckle as she pushed his hair away from his eyes.

Thomas took a final step forward, his face mere inches away from her own.

“Well… am I too ugly for a kiss then?”

“Shut up, Shelby.” She sneered, pulling him into a deep but sweet kiss. One she waited for so long, too long.

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