#cillian murphy gifs

[vervainandspritz]

Thank y'all so much for 1K notes on this goldy! I appreciate every single one of y'all, and hopefully my future work will be as pleasing to read! 😎✨

JUST ANOTHER OF YOUR MISTAKES

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Request made by @justsumtuffstuff: Could you do a tommy shelby imagine where you secretly have his kid but don’t tell him until one day aunt polly sees you and is like “holy shit” but that’s not the surprise, the surprise is you have twins. Just a lot of angst and fluff pretty please? ((:

This fic will have two parts!

Warnings: angst, swearing, violence, grieving, a lot of pain, eventual fluff, smut

A/N: It's a.. heavy fic, so beware. Interact for more

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE

~~

The land of Birmingham seemed to never change, not one bit. Ever since the first people settled there, the sky hung over them as if by force, never clear enough to see prospects for the future. Robbing the poor kids of dreams, of the loud thumping in their hearts caused by excitement for the good that never came.

It would seem that God has lost his way to Birmingham, not to mention Small Heath. Dirt, smoke and silence that rang too loud when working men would finish their shifts in factories seeking peace in their homes. After all, the human brain can get used to everything.

What was the difference between going to sleep hungry every night, and the relentless churning in the depths of her stomach that Y/N felt? Pain that never let go, waking up along her side like a loyal husband, never ceasing to accompany her throughout the day. Never loosening the hold on her heart.

Oh, how cruel the fate can be, Y/N thought, looking at the white ceiling of her bedroom. One she slept in for many nights too long, carrying the weight of the curse on her shoulders.

Because she was cursed, that one she was sure. Seeing the man she loved more than anything else in the world, losing himself in the grief after another woman.

Because that was the woman whose name Y/N dared not speak or even think. That's who she was, another woman. Embodiment of pain and betrayal of so many promises, taking away the beautiful, blue gaze Y/N yearned for so badly.

God must have been so cruel, putting her through the uncertainty of ever seeing him again throughout the war, and then taking him away.

Taking him away from Y/N, and letting her watch the process. Letting her see the distance growing, the dilated pupils in his eyes after each doze of opium, fruitlessly trying to numb the pain he carried.

Y/N couldn't help but wake up everyday, wondering how different his grief would be if it was her who died. Would he cry? Would he push the other woman away, like he did her? Sometimes the pain felt like too much to handle, but Y/N would never try to pull the trigger. Subconsciously feeling the weight of shame in her chest if she'd ever somehow found out she was right. That he wouldn't care.

So she lived, losing pieces of her heart day by day, warming his bed whenever he saw it convenient.

Until that one day came, that was. Hearing the... Scary, oh so scary news from her doctor she visited in secret. Putting both of her hands on her still flat stomach, she didn't feel anything physically. Yet it was enough to find the strength, buried so deep in her heart.

The love she felt for her unborn children outweighed the love for him.

The tension in Arrow house felt heavier than usual, as Y/N dragged her heavy suitcase down the stairs before slowly making her way to his office. The pain, longing in her heart slowing her down, extending the seconds into forever.

Y/N took a deep breath as her hand pressed down on the metal handle, the loud click echoing throughout the mostly empty room. Wordlessly she slipped inside, walking up to his desk quietly, letting out a shaky breath when she stopped mere inches away from the wooden furniture. His eyes didn't move from the documents he was reading, an empty gaze fixed on black letters despite knowing she was there. Y/N waited for a second, giving him a chance to look at her. Hoping he would.

But he didn't.

”I'm leaving” she said, loud enough to be heard. Silence followed her words, loud like never before as her heart squeezed in anticipation, silently begging him to stop her. To say something. Several moments passed before he finally did, making her heart stop for a mere second.

”Safe travels, Y/N Y/L/N” He responded in a cold, husky voice and for a moment, Y/N wondered who he was, wearing his face but sounding so different.

But the dust settled, just like the weight of his words as soon as she closed the door behind her back for what she thought would be the last time.

~~

Polly's eyes cut through his skin like a blade, her gaze never changing after that one feral day. The look of contempt and disgrace not even a bit different than one she gave him finding out what happened, back then.

”I was hoping you wouldn't be so stupid” She hissed, leaning forward, reaching for a cigarette with a shaky hand. Her eyes were teary, as she inhaled the smoke. ”When you were younger I saw your mother in your eyes. Now, they're full of greed and foolishness. Just like your father's” She spat out with contempt, raising from the chair. Quickly walking up to his own, she kneeled down for a moment, to meet his gaze.

One so empty, that gave her goosebumps.

”I will never forgive you, and... Neither will you.” She whispered. ”But you will have to live with the choice you made.”

Her words echoed loudly in his head several minutes after Polly left... And they never stopped ringing now, thirty eight months later. Thomas counted, every morning to be sure. After sobering up it was difficult to tell days apart. He rarely slept, fearful of the dreams he had at first.

He saw her, she was so close and yet no matter how fast Tommy ran, he couldn't reach her. Out of his reach no matter how hard he screamed or cried. Looking at him with the burning tears he caused.

It took him three months to sober up, give up on opium and... Feel. Thomas wasn't ready for the hellish pain that dawned on him once the drug wore off. The terrifying longing that dawned on him when he felt the remnants of her perfume on his pillow. The lack of relief he hoped for so badly, throwing away every single Grace's belonging he held onto previously, burning the photos and destroying the items, but it never came.

As time stretched, it became more intense. Thomas carried the pain and guilt wherever he went, finding the smallest bit of relief only in his office, searching for Y/N in every piece of England day by day.

Replaying the ways in which he treated her, internally setting himself on fire and forcing himself to feel every bit of it. Because that's what he deserved, to feel and carry the cross he created with his own hands.

Oh how beautiful the pain was, as he'd lean back in his armchair, closing his eyes and remembering her gaze. Her scent and her laugh, echoing so lively in his mind.

...but none of it worked, no matter how many people searched. How much money he spent on the search. Almost like she disappeared into thin air.

Day by day he was dying a little, bleeding through the wounds he so desperately prevented from healing every single time. Keeping the memory of her alive in his mind, not letting the hope die. Because it was all he had. Glimmer of hope. The leader of Peaky blinders became even worse than before. The pain shaped his mind in unknown ways, as the limitless cruelty became visible to anyone who dared to cross his path. Peaky Blinders were unmatched.

Nobody besides Thomas held onto the hope anymore. Knowing Y/N for so long, John and Artur knew she wouldn't come back. Not if her life depended on it. Polly only prayed for her safety.

...and Y/N? She stopped praying once her children were born. After finding out she'd have twins, she prayed every night for them to be born healthy. It was all that mattered.

Not the fact that she had to be using a fake name after moving to Coventry, mere miles away from Birmingham. But she couldn't afford to move further.

It's been.. so fucking hard. Everything. Y/N spent every night crying, begging any God that would listen to take away the pain in her heart. The pain that her babies only managed to lessen. Working as a waitress on nightshifts after accepting the kindness of her older neighbour. Mrs Wilson offered to take care of her boys while she works to help her make ends meet. Y/N had no idea what she would do without a woman she grew to call her only family.

”It's no problem, honey. They're little angels” She said quietly with a kind smile, taking one of the boys into her arms mere days after they were born.

The pain Y/N felt by having to leave her kids every night was stronger than the physical one. Having to work a demanding job after giving birth to keep the roof over their heads.

She cried, cried so much that eventually tears ran out and all she could do was.. keep trying. The two little people by her side were giving her strength. Light that she couldn't see before them, and only existed because they were here. Keeping her own heart beating.

***

”Are you sure? I can take care of them while you go, honey. You know how much I love them, don't you?” The older lady offered eagerly, caressing Nick's cheek with a smile, and a hint of concern while she glanced at Y/N.

”Thank you, but I will take them. The least I can do is spend time with them throughout the day.” Y/N responded, smiling sadly to her neighbour who just nodded along, understanding the allusion.

Letting out a sigh, she put her hands together.

”Be careful, dear.”

Y/N squeezed her hand lightly before pulling away as she held her son's hand, while carrying the other one on her hip.

”Always”

Travelling via train took no longer than forty minutes, and with each passing mile, Y/N's anxiety grew. She hasn't been in Birmingham for a long time now, not looking back.

Yet, because of her official address being still in the Arrow house, she needed to visit the office to complete documentation for boys. She put it off as long as she could, but it was inevitable now.

Despite the negative emotions, Y/N couldn't felt.. better, having her babies with her. The familiar facial expressions or blue orbs were enough to sometimes bring her to tears, but she couldn't love them more. They were a perfect little copy of the man whose name was engraved on her heart. The older they were, the more similar looking they were and now at dashing two and a half years, both boys were troublemakers.

Slowly making their way through Birmingham, Y/N held one little hand, chatting away with Nick, who was more energised than his brother who slept soundly in his mum's arms.

”...and dat?” He asked, pointing towards the building and glancing curiously at his mama. Y/N smiled at his curiosity, seeing how similar personality wise he was to her.

”that's a house” She replied calmly. The little boy cheered loudly, throwing his arms in the air.

"Yaay! Hooose!” He squealed making her chuckle, not caring about the scolding glances from other passengers.

A couple minutes later the other little one woke up, and started fussing because obviously he also wanted to walk now, while Nick wanted to be carried now. Sighing, Y/N put one of the kids down, and as she managed to pick up little Nick, she gasped loudly seeing her son's legs already in motion as he ran towards the crowd.

”Tommy! Thomas, stop!” She yelled after him, chasing him with Nick on her hip who watched the whole thing with his blue eyes wide open. ”Tommy!” She yelled once again, and he finally turned around, stumbling upon someone.

Y/N closed the distance as fast as she could, grabbing little Tommy and pulling him back to his feet, as she checked for any bruises – found none.

”I'm so sorry, i–” She started out, wanting to apologise to the random passenger, but words died on her tongue as soon as her eyes locked with the familiar brown ones.

”Y/N?” Polly stumbled out in shock.

Fuck

Part two upcoming

[perioddramasource]

Emily Watson as Sister Mary & Cillian Murphy as Bill Furlong SMALL THINGS LIKE THESE (2024) dir. Tim Mielants

[heeahheeya]

I always love their back hug which Tommy Shelby gave to Grace ONLY.

It's described gorgeously & flawlessly with black and gold colour, like the Sun & the Moon.

[stairwayto--hell]

he was drunk as fuck

Cillian Murphy in the see through shirt for Oppenheimer.

People died.

I’m people.

[kinkyniragi]

Until the debt is paid - Chapter 1: Taken

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Genre: Smut 18+

Word count: 1,4k

Summary: As payment for your father’s debt, you’ve been handed over to Thomas Shelby—a ruthless criminal with a reputation as dangerous as his smirk. Any hope for a swift resolution crumbles, leaving you entirely at his mercy. A hostage. A pawn in a game whose rules only he knows.

CN: Physical violence, power play, humiliation

Author’s note: After writing a lot of smut for Niragi from Alice in Borderland, I’m now diving into the world of Cillian Murphy. Feel free to leave comments and share my story if you enjoy it—I truly appreciate every bit of motivation to keep writing. Also, I’m not a native speaker, so if you spot any creative grammar choices… let’s just call them artistic liberties, eh?

***

When you meet him, his hands are in his pockets, his cigarette smoldering between his lips, and his eyes – sharp and assessing – never leave yours. A slow, knowing grin spreads across his face, a silent promise that whatever nightmare you’ve imagined is nowhere near the reality you’re about to experience.

***

Hours earlier

They came for you in the dead of night.

You barely had time to stir before rough hands seized you, a gag muffling your protests as a sack was yanked over your head. No matter how hard you fought, the struggle was over before it began. No surprise there—you were dealing with seasoned criminals. Kidnapping was probably just another item on their weekly agenda.

The journey was long, disorienting. The wheels of the carriage jolted over uneven cobblestones before the road gave way to rugged country paths. They took turns, doubled back, deliberately confusing your sense of direction. By the time the carriage finally lurched to a stop, you had no idea where you were.

***

Now, at dawn, you’re dragged from the carriage and dumped onto the cold, damp ground. The sack still covers your head, swallowing the weak morning light, muffling the murmurs of the men around you. Your captors seem to be handing you over to someone at your destination. Their boss?

A sharp voice cuts through the stillness. A command. Then—the snap of a whip.

Hooves thunder against the dirt as the carriage rattles away, its wooden wheels crunching over loose stones. The sound fades, swallowed by the eerie quiet, leaving only the cold air biting at your skin.

And then—

The sack is ripped from your head.

You blink against the pale morning light, your vision swimming. But even before your eyes fully adjust, you know exactly who stands before you. You recognized his voice the moment his men addressed him. And yet, knowing doesn’t soften the impact of seeing him.

Tommy Shelby.

The most notorious criminal in the city.

The man responsible for your abduction.

You scramble back instinctively, your palms scraping against rough dirt. It’s pointless, of course. A shadow of amusement flickers across Tommy’s face as he watches your desperate attempt to escape.

"It would almost be endearing if it weren’t so fucking pathetic. Where exactly do you think you’re going? I’d only have to reach out to drag you back."

Embarrassment burns through you as you drop your gaze. He’s right. Your flight response is utterly useless here. Instead, you struggle for composure and force yourself to confront him, your voice carrying a defiant edge.

"What do you want from me?"

Tommy exhales slowly, his breath visible in the cold morning air. He takes his time answering, letting the tension stretch unbearably thin.

"Your father," he finally says, "isn’t much of a businessman. Bad at keeping promises. Worse at paying debts."

He pauses briefly.

“Unpaid debts with Thomas Shelby tend to have… unpleasant consequences."

Yes—for me, you think bitterly. What do I have to do with any of this?

But you would never dare to say that out loud. Of course, you know why it had to be you. His only daughter. His most precious treasure. His greatest weakness. But you can’t shake the feeling that there’s something more to it…

“Too bad that you poor thing now have to pay for your father's misdeeds, right?” He sounds amused, without hiding a mocking, pitying undertone. Your stomach tightens. If he were only keeping you as collateral, he wouldn’t be talking about you ‘paying off the debt’. The implication is clear—and terrifying.

A firm grip closes around your wrist, yanking you to your feet. “Get up. You’re coming with me.” Tommy’s tone is sharp, leaving no room for argument. His hold is unrelenting as he pulls you forward, leading you toward a heavy wooden door. He pushes it open with ease. The scent of straw and damp wood fills your lungs as he pulls you inside.

A barn.

The realization settles uneasily in your chest. He’s keeping you here?

You bite your tongue, forcing yourself to stay calm. Any kind of physical resistance, any attempt to escape, would be pointless in your current situation—he’s stronger, faster, and you have no allies here. Struggling would only amuse him further. Instead, you let him shove you down like a lifeless doll onto what passes for a bed, rough straw scratching through your clothes.

Your gaze flickers to Tommy, searching his expression for a hint of what comes next. But he gives nothing away. He’s watching you closely, weighing something in his mind. You know what men like him do to their enemies’ women. And Tommy Shelby isn’t just any man. He’s a predator, a strategist, and if he senses weakness, he will carve it out of you piece by piece.

***

You remember the first time you met, and you could swear that your current plight is anything but a coincidence. Back when you had just started working at this bar, he was enjoying his whiskey when he bluntly asked you if you were a whore. When you said ‘no’ indignantly, he snorted contemptuously, emptied his glass in one go and replied:

"Then you have no business here."

In addition to his condescending manner, you didn't miss his look that showed that he had the power to make you his whore at any time. No, he wasn’t just waiting for your father to make a mistake.

You are pretty sure he provoked it to get hold of you.

***

He studies you for a long moment, unreadable. Then, with quiet authority, he says, “Listen carefully.”

You do. You don’t have a choice.

“There are rules,” he says. “You don’t try to run. You do as I say. Follow them, and your life here might even be… comfortable.”

His voice drops just slightly on the last word, lingering in the air like a promise—or a threat.

Your life here? How long does he think he can keep you? Your father will do everything in his power to get you back. He wouldn't abandon you. And yet, if Tommy only planned to hold you for ransom, why say your life here? Why make it sound as if you’d be staying longer than necessary?

A chilling realization comes to your mind. He didn’t just take you to leverage your father. No, Thomas Shelby isn’t a man who simply waits for things to fall into place.

He uses what’s in his possession. And right now, that includes you.

Anger flares inside you, burning hotter than fear. “Fine,” you snap. “I’ll keep my mouth shut, and you make sure my father pays. Then I assume my carriage home will be waiting.”

For a moment, he says nothing. But Thomas Shelby wouldn’t be Thomas Shelby if he let such defiance go unpunished.

The slap comes fast, sharp, tilting your head with the force of it.

White-hot pain blooms across your cheek. Your breath stutters, but you bite down the sound. You won’t give him the satisfaction.

Tommy leans in slightly, his voice quiet but razor-edged.

"It would be a shame," he murmurs, "if I had to inform your father that his precious collateral had met with an… unfortunate accident." He smirks. "Simply because it refused to cooperate. If I were you, I’d reconsider my attitude. Quickly."

Seething, he grabs a rusty chain, likely once used to tether horses, and locks a shackle around your left wrist, securing it to the chain. It’s just long enough for you to lie down with your arm outstretched on the straw-covered floor.

Without another word, he tosses a thin blanket at you and turns to leave. But before he steps outside, he pauses. The dim morning light catches the sharp cut of his profile as he glances back over his shoulder, watching you for a beat too long.

Then, with a smirk, he murmurs, “Sweet dreams.”

The heavy door swings shut, plunging the stable into a hushed stillness, broken only by the sound of your own breathing. The scent of straw and leather lingers in the air, but so does something else—the phantom heat of his gaze, the unspoken threat in his voice.

You lie motionless, staring at the ceiling, heart pounding. The worst part isn’t the shackle around your wrist.

It’s the fact that deep down, you’re no longer sure whether you fear what Tommy Shelby plans to do with you… or whether you crave it.

To be continued...

New to the Cillian party so just let me know if you wanna be tagged to my next stories! @prettycay23 @fourleafcloves-blog @mlioravanfleet @sunbeamseas @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @death-of-the-golden-days @amanda08319 @elysiannook @borntodiemp3 @cillshot @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @juleshadalittlelamb @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @milkpwuff @1-fuzzy-squirrels @iambored24601 @mcookie @letixslvdr @untitleddd74 @iwantadilfplease @leomiloo @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @matilda-jone @bonahona @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @hunnibearrr @lunyyx @nadloves @lost-fantasy @mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @cherrycilly @victoriak01 @leviackermannsupremacy @richiesgroupie @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @@xcinnamonmalfoyx @xcinnamonmalfoyx @buduguru-blog @nadloves @smailaway @sophia @blondie-drawings @meadows58 @randomcreator-09 @hagarsays @kikimurphys @strangeobsessed @elya660 @i-love-batman @garciaa1996-blog @nemesis-writer @namjoonsloveforpop @nyxxie-pooh

[queenshelby]

The Peaky Role (Part 23)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Best Friend's Dad, Smut

The hospital corridors seemed never-ending, a maze of white walls and fluorescent lights and, after you had been to the emergency department to get checked over, after two hours, you were finally were discharged and sat in the waiting area of the diabetes clinic on site.

For hours, your phone buzzed with Cillian's messages, his concern evident in every word. You had been texting back and forth, filling him in on your progress.

"Just waiting in the endocrinologist's office now. They're refitting me with the pump and a glucose tag," you texted, your fingers moving swiftly across the screen. "Should be done in the next hour or so."

"I'll come and pick you up," he replied instantly, his message appearing almost before you could blink.

"No, don't," you wrote back, a hint of panic creeping into your words. "It will be too suspicious if someone sees us," you added but Cillian had other ideas.

"I'll be discreet. Just let me know when you're done and I'll be there," he responded, wanting to ensure that he was there for you.

"Cillian, I'm fine to take the bus. The doctor even said so, " you assured him, your thumbs moving quickly across the screen. "I don't want to cause any more suspicion. We'll see each other soon."

 He sighed, his message appearing on your screen moments later. "Alright. But no bus. At least get a taxi," he insisted, his tone firm. "I'll pay for it. Just send me the details when you're on your way."

You smiled, your heart warming at his thoughtfulness. "Okay, I will take a taxi, but I will pay for it myself," you replied, sending him a quick kiss emoji before pocketing your phone and it wasn't long after that you were seen.

You left the hospital in the evening, the sun dipping low in the sky, casting long shadows across the city streets. The crisp evening air was a welcome change from the sterile hospital environment and, as you stepped outside, you took a deep breath, filling your lungs with the fresh scent of autumn.

You flagged down a taxi, your mind still buzzing with the events of the day.

"Where to, love?" the driver asked, his voice carrying a hint of Irish lilt.

"Can you take me to the apartment blocks at 167 Liverpool Street, please?" you replied, your voice hoarse from the day's events and he nodded, his eyes catching sight of the hospital bracelet still wrapped around your wrist.

"No worries, love," the driver replied as you settled into the back seat with ease, letting out a loud sigh.

The journey itself was a blur of city streets and evening traffic, the driver's chatter filling the silence. You stared out the window, your mind drifting to Cillian, wondering what he was cooking and, truth be told, you couldn't wait to eat something other than sterile sandwiches, which was what you were given in hospital along with some glucose drinks.

"Almost there, love," the driver told you, his voice breaking the reverie. "Just a few more minutes," he said and, not long after that, the taxi pulled up outside apartment building.

You paid the driver, your fingers fumbling with the notes, and stepped out onto the pavement. The air was cool, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the trees lining the street, which was littered with fallen leaves, a reminder of the approaching winter.

You walked towards the building, your footsteps echoing on the pavement. The entrance loomed ahead, a grand archway with a heavy wooden door, which you pushed open with ease, revealing a dimly lit foyer.

Having a keycard yourself, you took the elevator straight to Cillian's floor without bothering to first get changed and, as the elevator doors finally slid open, you couldn't help but smile.

You made your way to Cillian's apartment, your footsteps soft on the plush carpet. You knocked on the door, your heart pounding in your chest with excitement to see him.

He opened the door after only two short knocks and was clearly relieved to see you.

"Hey," he said. His voice was warm, his eyes taking in your appearance, the hospital bracelet still on your wrist. "Come in," Cillian continued, stepping aside to let you enter and you walked into the cozy apartment, your eyes immediately drawn to the table, set for two.

"I made your favourite," he said, his voice carrying a hint of pride.

"Bologense?" you asked, your eyes widening with delight.

"Yes," he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I thought it might cheer you up after today," he told you before, finally, pulling you closer to give you a kiss, which was gentle, his lips brushing yours softly. You melted into his embrace, your body leaning into his, and for a moment, the world faded away.

"You know you did not have to cook for me. We could have ordered in," you continued, your voice soft. "I would have been fine with that."

"I know," he replied, his gaze holding yours. "But I wanted to," he said, his eyes softening. "And I thought you might like something familiar and comforting."

"It's perfect," you whispered, your voice laced with gratitude. "Although, I do wonder if we should have dessert first," you then winked and, of course, he knew that you weren't referring to food when you mentioned dessert. Cillian laughed.

"You are unbelievable," he said, his voice low and full of affection. "I can see you've fully recovered," he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement and you couldn't help but smile, your heart lightening at his playful tone.

"Yes, with the pump back in place, it should be smooth sailing from here on out," you smiled, but Cillian wanted to be responsible.

"Maybe, but I still think you need to take it easy tonight," Cillian said, his voice laced with concern. "You've been through a lot today."

You smiled, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

"I'm feeling much better now, promise," you replied, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. "And I could use some rest, but not the kind you're thinking of," you teased, your voice low and playful and Cillian laughed, his eyes glinting with a mix of relief and desire.

"Well, how about this...," Cillian responded. "We have dinner first and then, if you are feeling up to it, we can talk about... other things," he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper, his gaze flickering to the bedroom door.

You raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on your lips.

"Okay," you said, your voice laced with anticipation and, before you could continue, Cillian's phone rang, interrupting the moment. He sighed, his eyes flickering to the screen.

"It's Shaheen," he said, his voice laced with frustration. "I should take this."

"Go ahead," you replied, your gaze lingering on him as he answered the call. "I'll just make myself comfortable."

Cillian stepped away, his attention focused on the call.

“Hey, Shaheen," he said, his voice carrying a hint of wariness. "What's up?"

"Just checking in," Shaheen's voice was steady, but you could sense a hint of tension in her words. "Everything okay with Y/N?" she asked, her tone concerned and Cillian glanced back at you, his eyes softening. "I mean, I assume that, as a family friend and so on, you would know as I haven't heard from her yet," she added, as if wanting to be careful in her approach.

"Yes, uhm, she is fine," Cillian assured Shaheen, his eyes never leaving yours. "I told her to rest."

"Good, good," Shaheen said, her voice laced with relief. "I just wanted to check in, as I was worried, uhm, you know, given what happened earlier," she continued, her words trailing off.

"I know and I am sure she appreciates it," Cillian replied, his gaze never wavering from yours.

"Okay, uhm, good," Shaheen said, her voice softening. "Enjoy your evening then, and I'll see you both on set tomorrow."

"We will," Cillian promised, ending the call with a sense of relief.

"Shaheen was checking in on you," he then said, turning back to you. "I told her you were resting."

“Why would she call you?" You frowned, your eyes narrowing slightly. "That's strange. I mean, she could have just called me directly."

"I know," Cillian replied, his eyes flickering with concern. "But maybe she didn't want to bother you," he went on to say before walking back into the kitchen. "Just don't worry about it, okay?" Cillian told you as he began to serve up some food, not wanting to worry you about what Barry had told him while, the truth was, that Cillian knew Shaheen was suspicious about his relationship with you.

 "Okay," you nodded, your eyes fixed on Cillian as he served the food. "You're right. It's probably nothing to worry about," you agreed, your voice steady, but your mind still turning over the conversation.

***

After dinner, Cillian cleaned up and, whilst you wanted to help him with the dishes, he shooed you away, insisting you rest.

"I'm fine, really," you assured him, your voice gentle. "Let me help. I don't want you to do everything."

 "No, it's okay," he said, his eyes fixed on you. "You need to relax. I'll finish up here."

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his concern. "You are so sweet you know that?" you asked, in awe by the fact that he was there for you like this, no matter what. You knew that Cillian had your back, and it was a comforting thought.

"I know," he chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Maybe, you should have a bath or something? To relax, you know?" he suggested, and the idea of a nice warm bath sounded like heaven.

You were still wearing the hospital bracelet on your wrist and the sandwiches you had for lunch had not settled too well.

"A bath sounds good," you said, your voice filled with anticipation. "Will you join me after you are done here though?"

Cillian's eyes lit up at the suggestion, a playful glint in their depths. "Defiantly. If you hop in, I'll be there in a bit," he promised, his voice carrying a hint of anticipation and, with a final wink, he disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you alone in the living room.

You smiled to yourself, feeling a flutter of anticipation in your chest. Cillian always made you feel giddy, and you couldn't wait to indulge in a relaxing bath, especially with the promise of his company.

You made your way towards the bathroom and stripped off your clothes, the hospital bracelet still on your wrist, and sank into the tub, sighing as the warmth enveloped you.

The water caressed your skin, soothing away the stress of the day. It felt good when the warm water enveloped your body and your mind drifted back to the events of the day and, just as you closed your eyes for a flicker of a moment, Cillian entered the room.

"Hey beautiful," he spoke as, immediately, his gaze roamed over your body. "Do you still want me to join you?" he asked sheepishly.

"Yes," you replied, your voice soft and inviting. "Please."

Cillian's eyes darkened with desire, and he took a step towards you, his gaze fixed on your lips.

"I'm not sure I should," he said, his voice low and husky as he sat down on the edge of the tub. "You need to rest," he told you, knowing very well that you would disagree. But he wanted to tease you nonetheless.

You smiled, a playful glint in your eyes. "I think you should," you whispered, reaching up to run your fingers along his jawline. "Despite, you promised, remember?"

Cillian's eyes softened at your touch, his lips parting slightly. "I did, didn't I?" he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "And I plan to keep that promise," he continued, his gaze flickering to your lips. "If you're sure you're up for it because, if I do join you, I don't think I can keep my hands off you" he added, his eyes searching yours.

"I want you to," you whispered, your voice filled with desire. "And I want you to touch me, to hold me, to..." Your voice trailed off, leaving the rest unspoken.

Cillian's breath caught in his throat, his eyes never leaving yours before leaning in for a kiss again.

You pulled him closer, your hands cupping his face, your lips meeting his in a hungry kiss. Your tongues danced together, exploring each other's mouths, tasting each other, lost in the moment until, finally, Cillian pulled away to get undressed and join you.

You watched as he peeled off his clothes, your eyes roaming over his body, from his face, to his freckled chest  , down to his stomach, and finally, to his cock. It was already half-hard, the tip glistening with precum.

"Fuck," you whispered, your voice breathless. "You're so fucking sexy, Cillian."

Cillian chuckled in response. "Oh please," he said, a small blush creeping into his cheeks. 

"I mean it ," you insisted, your eyes locked onto his throbbing cock. "You are fucking gorgeous."

Cillian's blush deepened, a soft laugh escaping his lips as he stepped into the tub, the behind you, water sloshing around him. "You're not so bad yourself," he murmured, his gaze tracing the line of your body before kissing the back of your neck as he settled in.

His hands slid down to your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he pulled you back against him. You could feel his cock, now fully hard, pressing against your lower back while you leaned back against his chest.

His hands began to explore your body, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, making you shiver with anticipation. He cupped your breasts, his palms warm and rough, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples until they hardened into tight peaks.

"You are so fucking perfect,"  he groaned, his voice low and husky as he nipped at the sensitive skin of your neck.

"I fucking love the way you taste," he murmured, his lips trailing down your spine as he moved his hands lower, sliding them over your hips. 

"Hmm,"  you hummed, your eyes fluttering shut as you leaned back against him, the sensation of his lips and hands on your skin driving you wild.

"Cillian," you gasped as he moved his hand lower, his fingers brushing against your pussy.

"Yes?"  Cillian murmured, his voice a low growl against your skin as his fingers began to tease your entrance, his touch light and tantalizing.

"More," you begged, your hips already jerking in anticipation, craving his touch. "I want more."

"And I will give you more but, after you cum, we will go to bed and you will get some rest," Cillian ordered , his voice a low rumble in your ear.

"Yes, sir," you whispered, your body already trembling with anticipation as Cillian's fingers dipped inside you, coating themselves with your arousal.

He groaned, his cock twitching against your back as he began to circle your clit with his thumb. "You are so fucking wet, Y/N," he murmured, his voice laced with desire. "I fucking love it when you are this wet for me."

You moaned, your head falling back against his shoulder as his fingers began to move inside you, slowly at first, then faster, deeper, hitting all the right spots.

His thumb pressed against your clit in firm, steady circles, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Fuck, Cillian," you gasped, your breath coming in ragged pants. "That feels so good."

You moaned, your hips moving in time with his fingers, your breath hitching as pleasure began to build deep within you. Cillian's other hand moved up to cup your breast, his fingers rolling your nipple between them, sending more waves of pleasure crashing through you.

"I am close," you gasped, your hips grinding against his hand, your body desperate for release and Cillian was ready for  it.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his voice a low growl. "Cum for me." 

His fingers moved faster inside you, his thumb pressing harder against your clit, and it was too much. Your body tensed, your back arching as a wave of pleasure crashed over you. You cried out, your fingers digging into his thighs as the orgasm tore through you.

"Fuck, Cillian!" you screamed, your body shaking as the pleasure washed over you.

Cillian held you tight, his fingers still moving inside you, drawing out every last drop of your orgasm.

"Jesus, Y/N," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "You are so fucking beautiful when you cum."

Your body slowly relaxed, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Cillian pulled his fingers out, bringing them to your lips. "Taste yourself," he ordered, his voice a low growl.

You opened your mouth, taking his fingers in, sucking and licking them clean. "Mmm," you moaned, the taste of your own arousal driving you wild. "This was so good, but I still need you inside me," you said, your voice a low purr. 

Cillian's breath hitched, his cock throbbing against your back. "Y/N, you need to get some sleep," he reminded you, his voice rough with desire. "You've had a long day."

You turned to face him, your eyes locked onto his. "I know," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I need this, Cillian," you argued. "Despite, Nina is coming tomorrow, and we won't be able to be intimate for three days,"  you added, your voice low and seductive, making sure that Cillian understood your desires.

Cillian's eyes flicked back and forth between your own, a battle raging within him. He sighed, his breath shaky with desire and exasperation. "Fuck, Y/N," he swore under his breath. "You are so fucking insatiable."

"And you love it," you smirked, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw and it was the combination of his conflicted expression and your playful teasing that finally pushed him over the edge.

"Fine, but just one time tonight and I will be doing the work," he told you before suggesting taking this to the bedroom. 

You smiled, sending a soft kiss to his lips. "Yes, sir," you whispered again, your body aching with anticipation.

He helped you out of the tub, his hands lingering on your hips before he quickly dried you off. You returned the favour, running the towel over his body, your eyes taking in every inch of him, from his shoulders down to his thick, hard cock.

"Fuck, Y/N," he growled, his voice thick with desire as you wrapped your hand around his length, stroking him gently. "You're killing me here."

His hands gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your soft flesh, a primal claim.

He then led you to the bedroom and gently pushed you onto the bed, his eyes never leaving your body.

"Lie back," he ordered, his voice a low rumble, his Irish accent thick with arousal as you laid down and spread your legs invitingly.  Cillian's gaze roamed over your body, his eyes darkening with desire as he took in every inch of you, from your swollen nipples to your glistening, aroused pussy.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his voice husky with lust as he crawled onto the bed, his body covering yours, his cock pressing against your entrance. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils, driving you wild.

He was being extremely gentle tonight, you could tell and you did not mind. It was exactly what you needed  after the day you had. Cillian's eyes were locked on your body as he slowly, agonizingly, inched his way inside you.

"Fuck," you gasped, your body opening up to him, your muscles relaxing as he filled you completely. "This is perfect." 

He groaned in response, his cock throbbing inside you. "You have no fucking idea how much I've been dying to do this all day," he said, his voice rough with desire.

He began to move slowly, his hips rocking against yours, his eyes never leaving your body.

"Oh my god," you moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. "That feels so good, Cillian."

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue explored your mouth, tasting you, claiming you as his own. You could feel his desire, his need for you, and it drove you wild.

The sex you had with him was slow and passionate. It was tender and gentle, despite the aching need coursing through your veins. Your body was desperate for him, but you also felt a deep yearning for connection, for closeness. It was perfect. 

Cillian held your gaze as he slipped in and out of you, his hips moving in slow, steady thrusts. He leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle kiss. "You're so fucking incredible," he murmured against your mouth, his voice thick with emotion and desire.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss. Your tongues danced together, exploring each other's mouths, tasting each other, lost in the moment.

The tenderness in Cillian's touch was overwhelming, and it made your heart ache with longing and when he kissed and nibbled on your neck while taking you slow, it sent you over the edge again.

Your second orgasm came quickly , making your body shudder and tense, your breath hitching and you couldn't help but scream Cillian's name.

"Fuck, Cillian," you gasped, as he continued to thrust slowly inside you, drawing out every ripple of pleasure that coursed through you.

Cillian groaned, his body tensing as he fought to keep his own orgasm at bay. "You feel so fucking good, Y/N," he murmured against your neck, his voice thick with desire. "I could stay buried inside you all night."

You hummed your agreement, arching your back slightly to take him deeper and the pleasure was so overwhelming that you didn't even notice when one of your earrings came off.

Cillian's grasp tightened as he began to move faster, his cock slamming into you with more force, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body.

"I want you to cum inside me, Cillian," you begged, your voice breathless and desperate. "I want to feel it."

Cillian's eyes darkened with lust, his body tensing as he fought to keep himself in check. 

He began to move even faster, his hips slapping against yours, the sound of flesh against flesh filling the room until, finally, he reached his own climax.

"Oh fuck, Y/N," he groaned, his body shuddering as he pounded into you one last time before collapsing on top of you, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. "Fuck, that was... fuck."

You smiled, your fingers tracing patterns on his back, your body still humming with pleasure.

"I know," you whispered, your voice laced with satisfaction, and Cillian chuckled, his breath still coming in shallow gasps. 

He then slowly pulled out of you, his cock already softening, and rolled off to the side, keeping you close. You snuggled into his chest, your eyes closing as you savored the warmth and comfort of his embrace.

"Hmm, I am absolutely wrecked now," you murmured , your voice soft and content.

Cillian smiled, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back. "Then just close your eyes and get some rest," he said, his voice low and pleased.

You hummed in agreement, your body relaxing into his. You were so comfortable and at peace in his arms, the day's events seemingly far behind you as you both eventually drifted off to sleep.

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[jokerous]

BARBENHEIMER (2023)

[ayo-edebiri]

#Can't wait for Barbenheimer

[vervainandspritz]

LOVE YOU WITH MY EYES CLOSED

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Part one Part two Part three

Summary: At a young age Y/N was given away for marriage, years later the dust began to settle and her life caught a rhythm she stopped fighting. Is Tommy, the man she once knew too well, ready to play along and let her go once again?

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: depression, heartache, mental and physical abuse

A/N: Slow introduction, next chapter will pick up on pace. Enjoy

Coming back to Birmingham ignited more mixed feelings than Y/N expected it ever would. Pushing through the difficult changes back in the day caused her to stomach so much pain and.. distress at the inability to make her own choices. She thought there was nothing in her to cause fear anymore.

A weird kind of fear it was, this time. Looking out the window as the train plummeted through the fields, shaking and groaning under the weight of people all heading to the city she couldn't shake off. Four years passed so quickly, in a pace she didn't understand when she looked back at the first months of constant struggle she endured. Leaving everything behind. Becoming nothing more than a tool to life of.. prosperity for her family.

She fought it for so long, back then. Much to her father's misunderstanding, her unbreakable spirit made everything so much more difficult.

Yet eventually everything must come to an end though, in a reality where her value was tightly connected with how pretty she was, and how aesthetically pleasing she looked, hanging on the arm of a man she barely knew.

It was much easier to ignore from the distance, but the closer she got to Birmingham, more wounds began reopening, hurting and itching despite her neutral expression and unmoving figure.

One of his hands rested on her thigh, the other one holding a newspaper. The lack of communication was nothing short of normal between them. After all, when nobody was around, they didn't have to pretend as much. Nickolas Winterbourne, a man coming from a life where nothing ever ran out, where pantries were never empty and clothes never dirty. He existed in a controlled environment snuggly clothed in money at every corner, shielding him from any difficulties life planned to throw his way - unaffected by the simple disdain of modern times they happened to live in.

For what it was worth, Y/N considered herself lucky. He was… polite, usually gentle which was way more than she could have ever asked for from people in his social class. His hands were smooth, untainted by physical labour that he never had to do. His disposition contradicted his father's, a man purely self-absorbed and cruel with one purpose – wealth.

Y/N was grateful for the person he was deep down, even though he was forcing her into situations they could avoid, yet rarely violating her physically or mentally.

Nickolas was… indifferent. His demeanour calm, collected and bordering on bored most of the time. His eyes looked at her with a never ending patience and neutrality she grew to appreciate, after watching the way many of his brothers treated their own wives. She was lucky.

The mindset she worked so hard to build, throwing away the values she dreamed of as a little girl, the warm dreams of having a loving marriage with several kids, conversations that would seem to go on forever sprinkled with tender kisses on the forehead and warm touches that would warm her up on cold nights. She exchanged those hopes for expensive dresses and a mansion much too big for any amount of wood to warm. There were continual expensive dinners and meaningless conversations with people she wouldn't care to see ever again with fake seemingly polite smiles. These people never stopped beckoning for their service, acting like the simple action of pouring themselves tea was too much to burden their minds with.

So she was grateful, playing along with the quick pace of life they had. Dressing up quickly, perfecting the empty smile she got used to wearing on a daily basis.

“Be grateful, because you could have had it much worse” she mentally repeated to herself.

A soft squeeze of his hand tore her out of her thoughts, his brown eyes watching her patiently. He witnessed the difficulties she struggled with back then. So her silence rang louder than ever.

”We will spend two days in Birmingham and be back on our way. Tomorrow is the day of the gala, and the day after you will spend on your own matters.” He spoke quietly, reading the troubling emotions in her eyes. He always saw through the mask of neutrality he taught her how to wear like her second skin: a mutual understanding.

Her eyes slowly followed along the lines of his face, finally settling on holding eye contact. Slowly nodding, she covered his hand with her own before forcing out a small smile.

”Thank you” She responded, straightening her back before the train started slowing down before coming to a full stop.

Patting her thigh for the last time, he pulled away.

”Come on. It's time to go”

~~

After getting out of the train, Y/N watched how after stepping out her boots immediately covered in mud.

Some things never changed, she thought with a smile as the scent of smoke filled her nostrils.

”Christ” Nickolas muttered, his face twisting in disgust. Birmingham was nothing like the London they were used to, first expression of the city obnoxiously underwhelming for Winterbourne.

Standing by the road sign they waited for a moment before the designated car pulled up, halting by their feet as the driver opened the door, offering to help in packing the luggage.

Y/N seemed distraught, looking around as she immediately recognized the streets despite small differences and the fact she didn't leave even remotely close back then. A city centre it was, fair distance from Small Heath. A place she used to call home.

”Come on, get in the car” Nickolas whispered, noticing her distracted gaze, grabbing her arm lightly and nudging her towards the vehicle, bringing her out of memories thick like smoke. Looking at him she nodded, obediently getting inside before the car took them to the hotel.

One she had never been in before. This whole situation felt suffocating in ways so weird, she was barely able to look him in the eyes. Even as they moved to the building, getting all the formalities done she couldn't help but let her mind wander towards the ghosts of her past.

Loud, obnoxious laugh filled her head bringing a little smile on her red lips. One that definitely belonged to John, his eyes glimmering with mischief like most of the time. Through the eyes of imagination she saw Ada's long, dark hair she constantly complained about, sighing dramatically in a way that never ceased to make Y/N roll her eyes. Suffering from success, she used to call it, teasing her friend with whom she grew up so close.

A sound came to her ears as lift brought them to the right level, she moved seemingly on an autopilot when her husband fumbled with keys, looking for the right one.

As the door swung open she let out a silent sigh as she remembered. The memory she worked on suppressing so long caught up randomly, big, blue eyes surrounded by thick, dark eyelashes. Colour so dynamic, swiftly changing with the feeling simmering beneath his tough exterior, yet always so bright and clear when he looked at her. She felt like she saw him for the first time, despite it being nothing but her exterior shell shattering at the unwanted memories flooding back in.

Suddenly, she felt out of breath and barely an hour after checking into the hotel, she was in bed facing away from Nickolas. The wall she put up between them nearing the height of one he tried to shatter after getting to know the girl. She seemed so small as she lay on her side, every inch of her body hidden under covers. Hair scattered on the pillow, keeping his gaze away from her features.

They just got here, and he was already losing, Nickolas thought, before remembering the small detail that could shatter his reality if ease if looked into.

”Goodnight” He whispered, pressing a kiss onto her shoulder before turning away and giving her space as the lights went out.

It was only so long he could bend reality to his will, he thought, before closing his eyes and allowing Morpheus' embrace to swallow him up.

In contrast to him, Y/N didn't fall asleep once. The unknown anticipation swirled around in her stomach, pushing her even further away from the man sleeping by her side. Something was coming, and she knew it.

~~

”Do you really trust what you're saying?” Her voice came to his ears, quieter, less confident than usually she'd speak to him.

Leaning forward on his arms, he let his head drop in defeat for a moment before lifting him up. Strong, unyielding gaze meeting her worried, slightly anxious eyes.

Her position in the family and in company made her learn how to deal with emotions on her own for years.. which was never an issue. Woman could only be so vulnerable after raising that many kids and protecting them from the disgusting reality with her fragile hands and soul on her shoulder. But she managed.

So the rare vulnerability she displayed that evening, looking in her nephew's eyes was nothing short of special. The string of responsibility connecting them in ways none of his siblings would understand.

Staring blankly for a moment, he ended up nodding.

”I know, Polly.” He spoke up, his voice heavy with exhaustion and the fear he tried to bury somewhere between his ribs, to never be seen again. But it was there, alive as ever, making his heart thump in an unnatural rhythm. Reminding him of one of survival. Desperate attempts to stick to life even when the dirty earth in the tunnels tried to swallow him alive.

”You need to trust me when I say things will go back to normal. I waited for long enough.” His voice came out sharper than he'd like it to. Blue eyes soothing the damage his voice has done and Polly understood.

Being a witness to the struggles he faced on daily, responsibilities piling on him like layers of clothing, giving no space to grieve the loss of someone who was never supposed to be gone.

…and so he didn't. Instead building an empire on his bitterness and pain, trusting that… whatever was up there would provide if it was meant to be.

That day for once in his life Thomas wanted to pray.

~~

“You need to pick up your pace, Y/N. We can't afford to be late to such an event.” Nickolas snapped, his usually calm and collected demeanour dishevelled with stress as he watched time ticking away on his watch.

She didn't sleep, almost at all. Putting on the mask was more difficult than usual, having to layer the makeup on her tired face, exhausted eyes. The years of struggles managed to catch up in the nine hours she spent on trying to fall asleep. Dreamless nights and loveless days connected with the anticipation in her stomach making it impossible to close her eyes.

”What will they think of us if we show up late, Y/N?” He shot once again watching her movements with his chin higher than he usually carried.

In moments of distress Y/N saw his father in him, usually perfectly hidden away lack of spine showing through the wounds of what the perfect life did to him. Minor inconvenience making him furious.

”Put on your jacket and smoke a cigarette, Nickolas. By the time you're done I will be waiting.” She responded in a neutral way, already taught to not feed into his bitterness in such situations. Not because he was right, but rather to avoid making him cranky as he would surely ruin her already difficult evening.

Watching her with contempt for a moment, he let out a heavy breath before stepping away.

”Five minutes or you will walk there. I'm not going to be late because of your irresponsibility.” His voice faded with the distance growing between them.

Y/N sighed looking at her reflection.

A man that was never supposed to be a husband.

All eyes were on them as soon as they arrived. Y/N smiled, nodding along to the people she saw for the first time as they spoke to Nickolas. She was to not speak unless spoken to, Mr. Winterbourne taught her four years ago. Smile, look pretty and watch your husband. Be attentive and elegant at all times.

Entering the event took them about fifteen minutes with all the pleasantries Nick kept giving away to his associates. Deep down she hated it. The constant need to pretend, not a single movement one of her own.

”Mr. Winterbourne!” A voice came from behind their back as they walked into the main room. An older man with jet-black hair approached quickly, his arm wrapped around the waist of his wife. Glancing at her, they exchanged a joyful look before standing right by Y/N. “Long time no see” His voice was low, but not threatening. Something about the tall and broad man was inviting, friendly.

”Indeed, it's been a long while.” Nick responded, straightening his back before greeting the older woman, getting a hold of her hand gently and kissing the temple. ”How is life treating you, Sir?” His tone mannered and calm, just like always whenever he was in a public eye. After getting a response, he began talking about the details of the gala before the woman suddenly interrupted him.

”...and who is this beautiful woman?” She spoke completely relaxed to which Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. If she interrupted her husband or any man he was currently talking to in such a manner, she'd get severely punished if not slapped at the spot. Nicholas raised his eyebrow but quickly put on a collected exterior again.

”This is my wife, Y/N” He introduced her, slightly embarrassed that he forgot to do so in the first place. What would they think of him? The older man reflected, kissing her temple with a smile and his wife took her hand in her own.

”Oh, I see” She said, looking at the ring on her finger. ”Absolutely beautiful, how about we get something to drink while men talk about the important matters?” She suggested light-heartedly, winking at her husband who chuckled, shaking his head before giving a simple nod.

”Great idea. I will find you in just a few moments, Precious.”

The way their interactions took place made Y/N truly shocked, she's never seen such behaviour among people in their class before. Were people of Birmingham different than them?

Waiting for his approval obediently Y/N only moved when he gave her a stern nod, clearly not pleased with his own performance, yet he would never admit it.

His behaviour was different this time, she could clearly see it. He was more emotional in the wrong way, every little detail making him visibly angry.

”I’m Meredith” The seemingly fourty year old woman stated, glancing at Y/N sideways. ”You seem to love these kind of events, don't you?” She joked, seeing the way Y/N’s smile dropped as soon as they turned away from their husbands. Internally she panicked hearing the elegant woman's remark, her eyes widening with fear. ”Oh, no worries. We're on the same page… besides. They serve really good drinks, so soon enough it will be bearable.” The tone of her voice was light and amusing as she gave Y/N a little shove. Her demeanor was relaxed and open, matching her husband's which was… refreshing.

”Better get to it then” She mustered a smile in response.

To be fair, time did start passing faster as they settled by the table, slowly sipping on tasteful drinks and talking in a way that allowed Y/N feel much less comfortable than she was at first. A breath of fresh air.

”We’re local. My husband, Christopher, is the owner of several businesses passed down through the family. That's how he knows Winterbournes.” She explained eventually before leaning in closer. ”He doesn't get along well with your father in law. Tradition and peace are the only things keeping them tied together.”

Y/N listened carefully, appreciating that after a couple drinks Meredith's tongue got a bit loose. Usually she'd never hear a single detail about her husband's business or family. She wasn't family by blood, so her access to information was very restricted.

Getting lost in her thoughts again she zoned out for a second before Nickolas’ voice came to her ear from close proximity.

”This is my wife, Y/N Winterbourne.” He introduced her and it took a second to stand up, smooth out her dress before her eyes met the guests.

…and just for a second, her heart stopped, mouth slightly parting as she met the blue gaze she dreamed of for so many years.

”May we dance, Mrs. Winterbourne?” Thomas Shelby asked, standing side to side with her husband. Slightly shorter yet visibly towering over him.

For once she forgot her manners, not able to tear her eyes away from him as she gave a quick nod and without another word, he grabbed her hand pulling her towards the dance floor among other couples. Completely stiff and frozen, her vocal chords were not cooperating as she was on the verge of a panic attack.

His hands grabbed her own, setting them on his shoulders as he pulled her closer.

”Breathe” He said quietly in a husky tone as his scent almost made her faint.

[tomcriuse]

Batman Begins (2005) dir. Christopher Nolan

[sweetie-baby888]

So proud of my man’s 🤍

Cillian Murphy wins Actor in a Lead Role for Small Things Like These, IFTA Awards, 2025

[mydear-corinthian]

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.

[enidsinclair]

#the cutest red-nosed reindeer

[ml080504]

somebody: what do you like about men twice your age?

me: where do i start?

[skarsgards-bill]

"He researches his enemies, that's why he's been chosen." Peaky Blinders | Season 2 Episode 1