#cillian murphy... sleep with one eye open

[queenshelby]

Daughter Dearest (Part 15)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Step! Daughter (21)

Warning: Infidelity, Smut, Dysfunctional Family

Please comment and engage!

Later that day, at around midnight, you were still tossing and turning. You had already gone to bed two hours ago but your thoughts remained stubbornly awake, fueled by the events of last night and the fact that you had almost been caught.

You had no chance telling Cillian about the Twitter post yet, nor did you talk to him about what Cliora had told you. She, of course, did not know that the woman seen with Cillian was you, but you were obviously determined to keep your stories straight in case your mother asked where he was until late and, also, where you were all night.

You had managed to evade her questions all day, at least for the most of it, but you knew it was only a matter of time before she caught on. After all, she had eyes in the back of her head, or so it seemed.

To avoid her and Cliora, you had spent the evening holed up in your room, the camera your only companion. As you scrolled through the images you had captured and the world around you faded away. Photography was your escape, a way to express yourself without words, and you working on some images until the night finally caught up with you.

But now, even though you were tired beyong belief, here you were, with all sorts of thoughts on your mind.

There was the fear of getting caught, which was just one of them though. There was also the guilt though, the nagging feeling that you were betraying your family's trust. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn't help it. Cillian was like a drug you couldn't quit which, ultimatly, brought you to the third intrusive thought - the thought about him.

You remembered the way his hands felt on your skin, the way his breath tickled your neck, and the way his voice, low and raspy, whispered in your ear.

He had the most amazing scent and it was so familiar, like a second skin, you thought.

The mere thought of him made your heart race and your skin tingle. You wondered what he was doing right now, if he was thinking of you too.

The urge to sneak into his room and check on him was overwhelming, but you knew you should resist.

And yet, you didn't.

You threw the covers off and quietly opened the door, tiptoeing across the hall and down the corridor, your heart racing with every step.

You knew that your mother and Cliora were fast asleep, but the fear of getting caught still lingered, a nervous excitement coursing through your veins.

By the time you reached his door, your hand was shaking. You placed your hand on the doorknob, your heart pounding so loudly in your ears you thought it would wake the entire house. You twisted the knob slowly, wincing at the soft creak of the hinges. The door swung open, not making a sound as you slipped inside.

The room was dark, illuminated only by the soft glow of the moon through the half-open curtains.

"Cillian?" you whispered, your voice barely audible and, much to your suprise, he wasn't asleep either even though it was past midnight already.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" Cillian asked, his voice low and groggy, the covers rustling as he sat up in bed.

"I... I couldn't sleep," you whispered, taking a cautious step forward, your eyes adjusting to the dim light.

"Neither could I," he admitted, his voice rough as you approached the bed in order to climb on to it.

"Were you thinking about me?" you asked quietly, your tone playful, even though you were actually feeling a bit self-conscious.

"I was actually," Cillian chuckled, his voice soft and low. "But you shouldn't be here Y/N," he added, his tone turning serious.

"I know," you replied before climbing on top of him in the dark before your lips brushed against his.

"Y/N," he simply whispered, his fingers threading through your hair as if to argue against your lips, gently at first, then with a growing urgency. "Wait," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin, his hands now firmly gripping your hips.

"Sorry, I can't help it," you whispered, your voice laced with desire.

Cillian's eyes glinted in the moonlight, a mixture of desire and something else—a hint of fear, perhaps. "We shouldn't be doing this in the house," he warned you in a quiet whisper, which is when you decided to bring up the Twitter post.

You sighed, pulling back slightly. "It's probably safer here than anywhere else, in public," you insisted, your voice a whisper. "There was a tweet about you at the Hilton last night," you said, your breath hitching.

"I know," Cillian replied, his voice hoarse while his fingers still brushed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"You know?" you breathed, your heart pounding.

"My publicist rang me about it this morning and had it taken down," he continued, his breath warm against your skin.

"Cliora saw it," you breathed, your heart pounding.

"She did?" Cillian's eyes widened, his fingers pausing in their exploration. "What did she say?"

"Nothing," you lied, biting your lip. "I mean, she asked me what I thought about it, and I said it was probably nonsense," you continued, your breath catching in your throat.

"That's good," Cillian exhaled while his fingers trailed down your spine, his touch electric. "But we really need to be more careful Y/N," he continued, his breath warm on your neck.

"I know," you whispered, your fingers tangling in his hair before you nibbled on his earlobe, his body responding to your touch.

"You really shouldn't be here," he whispered, groaning almost, as he pulled you closer, his hands sliding under your shirt, his touch igniting a fire within you.

"I know," you whispered again before you leaned in, your lips hovering over his, the moment charged with anticipation.

"Y/N," he groaned, his body arching towards you. "This is not being careful," he then murmured, his lips finding yours, his kiss deep and hungry.

"I know," you whispered back, your hands clutching at his shoulders, your body yearning for his touch. "But I can't help it."

"You're killing me, Y/N," he groaned, his breath hot against your skin. "You know that, right?"

"I know," you almost giggled this time around before you kissed him again, your lips eager and insistent.

"We can't," he groaned, his body trembling beneath your touch. "Not here," he insisted.

"I'll be quiet," you promised, your fingers tracing the lines of his face. "I promise," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. "I won't make a sound," you added, your voice a low, sultry purr as you shifted your weight, straddling his hips, the heat of his cock pressing against your core, even through the thin fabric of your shorts and his. 

Cillian's breath hitched, his hands gripping your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he fought against the urge to give in to the pleasure. "Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "You're making this so fucking hard for me," he admitted, his hips lifting slightly, his cock pressing against you, seeking friction.

"I can't stop thinking about last night," he confessed, his voice a low growl. "About how fucking good you felt."

His words sent a jolt of desire straight to your core, your pussy clenching at the memory. You could feel the heat of his cock through your shorts, the length of him pressing against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

"Fuck, I need you," you gasped, your hips moving instinctively, grinding against him, seeking more friction before you finally pulled your oversized t-shirt over  your head, exposing your naked breasts to the cool air of the room. "And I can't stop thinking about it either," you admitted, your voice breathless and husky. "About how you felt inside me. About how you made me feel."

Cillian groaned, his hands moving to your breasts, his thumbs brushing against your nipples, the sensation sending electric shocks straight to your core. "You're so fucking beautiful, Y/N," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "So fucking perfect."

His words sent a wave of heat through you, your nipples hardening under his touch, your body aching for more.

"Take off your briefs," you  commanded, your voice barely a whisper, but laced with a sudden authority that surprised even you. "I want to feel you inside me again." 

Cillian hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours, but he saw the determination in your gaze and complied, his hips lifting off the bed as he quickly shimmied out of his boxers, his cock springing free, hard and ready.

Meanwhile, you did the same, pushing off your shorts  and underwear, feeling a rush of cool air against your pussy, making you gasp. You could see the way his eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, naked and straddling him.

"Y/N, fuck,"  he groaned, his voice a low rumble, his hands gripping your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh. 

You smiled, a slow, sultry curve of your lips as you leaned down, your breasts pressing against his chest, your nipples hard and aching. "I want you, Cillian," you whispered, your voice husky with desire. "I want you to fuck me."

Cillian groaned, his hips lifting slightly, his cock pressing against your entrance, seeking friction, seeking entry. "Jesus" he growled, his voice thick with lust. "You're so fucking wet."

You leaned in closer, your breath hot against his ear. "I am and I can't stop thinking about how you stretched me open and filled me up," you whispered, your voice a low purr, your fingers tangling in his hair as you shifted your hips, rubbing your slick pussy against his cock until, finally, you sank 

down onto him, his cock sliding into you in one smooth, slow thrust.

Cillian gasped, his head falling back against the wall and bedhead, his hands gripping your hips tightly as you began to move, your body undulating against his, your hips rolling and grinding as you took him deeper and deeper inside you.

"Y/N," he groaned, his voice a low rumble, his eyes locked on yours, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "You feel so fucking good."

You smiled, a slow, sultry curve of your lips as you leaned down, your breasts pressing against his chest, your nipples hard and aching.

"Oh god, Cillian," you gasped, your voice husky with desire while Cillian groaned, his hips lifting to meet your movements, his cock sliding deeper into you with each thrust. 

You moaned, your body moving in a rhythm that was both primal and rhythmic, your hips grinding against his, taking him deeper and deeper. The sensation of him filling you, stretching you, was overwhelming, and you cried out, your voice a low, desperate moan.

"Fuck, Cillian," you gasped, your body trembling with the force of your desire.

Cillian's hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he began to move, his hips thrusting up to meet your downward movements. 

You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, the heat of him sending waves of pleasure through your body. 

Remaining quiet was  a challenge, but you managed to keep your moans to a low, desperate gasp as you rode him, your body moving in a rhythm that was both primal and rhythmic, your hips grinding against his, taking him deeper and deeper.

You could feel the sweat beading on his forehead, the muscles in his neck straining as he fought to maintain control. His breath was hot and ragged against your skin, his voice a low growl as he whispered, "You're so fucking tight, Y/N. You feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock."

You moaned, your body moving faster, your hips grinding against his, chasing your release. The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, the wet, obscene noise of his cock sliding in and out of you, of your juices coating him, echoing through the air.

"Cillian," you gasped, your voice breathless and desperate. "I'm so close.

I'm so fucking close," you gasped, your body trembling with the force of your impending orgasm. You could feel it building, the pressure in your core coiling tighter and tighter, your pussy clenching around his cock as you chased your release.

Cillian's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he met your thrusts with his own, his hips moving in a steady, relentless rhythm. "That's it, Y/N. Come for me. Let me feel that tight little pussy come all over my cock," he growled, his voice low and primal, his eyes locked on yours, a dark intensity in his gaze and, by that point, you could not take it anymore.

"Oh god yes!" you cried out as your body convulsed and your orgasm tore through you. 

"Shh," Cillian hissed, his hand quickly covering your mouth, muffling your cries as your body shook with the force of your release. Your pussy clenched around his cock, the walls of your core pulsing and milking him, drawing him deeper inside you.

"Fuck, Y/N," Cillian groaned, his hips bucking wildly as he chased his own release. 

You could feel his cock swelling inside you, the heat of him growing more intense as he neared his climax and you knew that he would struggle to keep it quiet as well. 

He was already trying to muffle his own groans, his breath hot and ragged against your skin as, finally, he too came undone.

You quickly pressed your lips against his now as his hips bucked wildly, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he came hard, his hot cum filling you up, coating your inner walls, mixing with your own juices. He groaned loudly into your mouth, his body shaking with the force of his release, his fingers digging into your flesh so hard that you knew you'd have bruises in the morning.

The sensation of him coming inside you sent another wave of pleasure crashing through your body, your pussy clenching around him, milking him for all he was worth.

You could feel his cum dripping out of you, around his cock, coating your thighs, the obscene wetness a testament to the intensity of their passion.

Cillian's body finally stilled, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he collapsed back onto the wall again, his chest heaving. You could see the sheen of sweat on his skin, the flush of pleasure still lingering on his cheeks.

You slowly lifted yourself off him, his cock slipping out of you with a wet pop, leaving you feeling empty and aching. You collapsed onto the bed next to him, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Cillian turned to face you, his eyes dark and intense, a small smile playing on his lips.

"You're something else, Y/N," he murmured, his voice low and husky, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine. "I can't get enough of you."

You smiled back, your body still buzzing with the aftermath of your shared passion, your heart pounding in your chest. "I know the feeling," you admitted, your voice soft and breathless. You propped yourself up on one elbow, looking down at him, your eyes roaming over his face, taking in every line, every shadow. You reached out, your fingers brushing against his cheek, his stubble rough against your skin. "Although, I do sometimes wonder how we ended up like this, you know? It's a mess," you  said, your fingers tracing the lines of his face, the reality of your situation slowly seeping back in. "I mean, what are we even doing, Cillian? We're playing with fire. And I think we both know that eventually, we're going to get burned."

Cillian's expression darkened, his eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and something else—regret, perhaps. "I know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't stay away from you, Y/N. I've tried, and I can't do it."

You sighed, your heart aching at his words. "Well, I will be gone in six weeks, so that will make things easier on the both of us,"  you said, trying to keep your voice light, even though the thought of leaving him made your chest tighten.

Cillian's eyes flashed with a sudden intensity. "Yeah, maybe," he said, his voice barely a whisper before leaning in and kissing you softly on the lips. 

The kiss lasted barely a few seconds but it felt like an eternity. It was soft and gentle, a stark contrast to the passion that had just consumed you both. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a silent promise of more, of a future that neither of you dared to speak out loud.

Cillian pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You know, I've never met anyone like you, Y/N," he said, his voice low and husky. "And it feels like a sick joke, really. I mean, I am married to your mother,"  Cillian said, his eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and something else—regret, perhaps. 

"That's life for you I guess," you whispered before calling it a night. "I should really go back to my room and try to get some sleep."

You started to climb off his bed and put on your clothes and, as you did, he grabbed your hand.

"Wait," he said, his voice soft, almost pleading. "Stay for a little while," he added, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand as, suddenly, and unexpectedly, the door to Cillian's room opened .

You both froze, your heart pounding in your chest as the door slowly creaked open, revealing Sadie standing in the doorway, looking confused.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22 @meadows5 @randomcreator-09 @hagarsays @kikimurphys

[elskiee]

CILLIAN MURPHY STAY AWAY FROM HER!!! [he is literally her husband] [he's so lucky i hope he can fight] [/j]

[mydear-corinthian]

Birthday || Cillian Murphy x reader

Synopsis: Cillian arriving on his birthday back to your shared home after an exhausting Oppenheimer work. Pairing: Cillian Murphy x reader Warnings: SMUT +18, squirting, praising kink, rough sex, p in v, creampie Notes: ENTIRELY FICTIONAL. No hate to Cillian's wife! (we love her) Happy (advance) Birthday my man, Cillian Murphy <3 Click here to see the MAIN MASTERLISTClick here to see the CILLIAN MURPHY masterlist

Cillian is finally free to rest. For the past few months, he has been traveling all around the world with Oppenheimer's premiers, interviews, new promotions with different brands, and of course, the awarding ceremonies.

Due to the busy schedule your husband had, you weren't able to talk to him physically, kiss him, touch him, go out with him, or complete your day with him for months. During the busy period, both of you will hop on Skype or Zoom every week to talk about what's happening.

Now that the promotions and other interviews are finished, Cillian can finally come back home to his hometown in Cork, Ireland with you and his family. He'll arrive no later than May 23, just a day before his 48th birthday.

Currently, you're in your shared home, alone. Laying down on the massive queen-sized bed. With your phone in your hand, you texted him.

"Hello, love. Where are you already?" you typed.

After a few minutes, your phone buzzed, and a text notification popped up, showing Cillian's name.

"I'm in Ireland already. I'll let you know if I'm in Cork. I love you." Cillian replied.

"Alright. Have a safe trip, Cill. I love and miss you." you texted the last time, smiling like an idiot before turning off your phone, and placing it on top of the nightstand beside you. Getting comfortable, you pulled up the comforter up to your chest before turning off the lamp and sleep.

<>

You woke up to the sound of the front door being opened.

Yawning, you stood up, rubbing your eyes as you grabbed your white robe that was hanging on the back of your shared room.

As you walked down the stairs, you saw Cillian. His hair was longer than the last Skype call you had and you find it hot. His luggage and his carry-on bag were dropped on his side when he saw you.

You sprinted over to embrace him tightly and warmly, taking in his scent before planting a quick kiss on his lips. You felt planted in the moment, protected and cherished in his familiar hug. Everything else seemed to fade away as your heart was filled with the delight of being reunited. You drew back just enough so that you could meet his eyes and saw the same joy in.

"I've missed you, Cill," you said, smiling.

"I missed you so much, (y/n),"

Your lips and his made contact again. The both of you exchange a sweet and short passionate kiss.

You broke the kiss, letting out an exhale, your face still smiling.

"You must be tired, darling. Just leave the bags there, the kids will handle that tomorrow," you said, guiding the way to your shared bedroom upstairs.

You were shocked to feel Cillian's hands grab your face and give you a hard kiss as soon as you two got to the door. Your eyes widened at the quick action, but you were also craving for this. You haven't felt or seen each other in months. You gave him an aggressive kiss back, and as the kiss increased, you reached out to hold his neck and tasted one other's melting tongues once again.

"Cill - Aren't you tired? We can do this tomorrow," you interrupted.

"Oh fuck no. I want you now, love. I've missed you so much," Cillian replied.

"The kids aren't home, by the way. They're both in a sleepover with their friends."

"That's good. No one can hear you scream then,"

Cillian lowered you onto the mattress carefully and kept his kiss intact. You took off your sleepwear shirt and robe, exposing your hard nipples and breasts, as he carefully undid his shirt. Cillian bit and sucked you as he marked you as his, his lips moving from your jaw to your neck. You gripped a fistful of his hair and groaned with ecstasy.

"Fuck - you're so pretty .. and hot .." he muttered in between kisses, adorning your whole face and neck.

Cillian slowly kissed you lower and lower until he reached your covered cunt. Your black panties soaking from the recent touch. He chuckled, putting his face in front of your wet and needy cunt.

"So fucking wet for me, huh?" he teased, biting his lower lip at the sight.

"Oh yes, Cillian .. please,"

"Please what?"

"Fuck me, Cillian. Fuck me, please .." you begged, clenching your cunt feeling wetter and wetter every time he speaks.

Cillian let out a soft chuckle before removing your black lace panties. Tossing it on the floor. You can feel his breath in your cunt.

Finally, he devoured you. His tongue circled around your clit and sucked it harshly making you whimper loudly. The sound of his tongue doing magic to your cunt echoed throughout the room, eating you like a thirsty man.

"I missed you. I missed your touch. I missed your taste .. God, fuck, you taste so good," he praised, continuing to eat you out.

Your back arched at the pleasure, taking a fist full of his hair, pinning him down your cunt deeper, your thighs locking his face.

No words can come out of your throat to feel the kind of pleasure. You let out a series of moans and gasps, not even worrying if the neighbors can hear you.

Feeling a knot in your stomach performing, your legs trembled, digging his face deeper and deeper as you let out a very loud moan, your cunt clenching.

"Mhm cum for me, baby .. yeah that's right .. fuck," Cillian muttered as his tongue flicked your clit even faster, helping you to reach your peak.

"Fuck!" you let out a loud moan as you started to squirt. Your juices squirting all over his mouth and on the bedsheets. A white substance leaking out of your cunt.

"Shit, that was hot," he commented.

"No, Cill .. please, I need more .. I need you,"

"You've missed me that much, huh? Well, since you asked properly,"

Cillian removed his pants alongside his black boxers, tossing them on the floor. His cock sprung open, pre-cum leaking.

His hand strokes it for a while before entering you slowly, feeling how your tight cunt takes him. Cillian let out a low groan as he entered you fully. His pace started out slow, allowing you to adjust to his huge size. Your breasts bounce at each thrust as you felt his cock inside you. Slowly, he started penetrating faster and deeper, allowing him to pleasure all of your sensitive spots. You moaned out loud as you felt your g-spot touch his cock, your hands crumpling the bedsheet. His pelvis hit your hips as he thrusted harshly making a series of loud skin-clapping sounds.

"God, you feel so good, (y/n)," he groaned, his eyes fully shutting, feeling every spot of your cunt inside you.

"Yes yes yes yes! Oh, Cillian .."

You felt a huge difference with his cock and the toy that you have in your closet. When he was away, you would fuck yourself with a toy, imagining lustful scenarios of him fucking you harshly. His cock felt better.

"C'mon, baby .. let the neighbors know how much I fucking please you,"

You let out a much louder moan as you felt your orgasm coming again. Cillian's fingers toying with your hardened nipples as he harshly pounded you.

"I'm gonna - I'm.. fuck! I'm cumming .. I'm cumming, oh!" you shouted, feeling like bursting at any second.

"Me too, baby .. Oh yes,"

After a few harsh pounds, you finally came and so did Cillian. Letting his seed pour inside your walls, filling you up. Your legs trembled as you clenched your cunt on his cock.

Cillian finally pulled out, a huge load of your cum and his leaking out of your penetrated hole, staining the bedsheets again.

"Look at you dripping at my cum. You're such a good girl," he praised before kissing you but this time, more softer and passionate.

"I love you, Cill."

"I love you more, (y/n),"

You looked at the wall clock, checking on time. When your eyes saw the time, you smiled. It's 12 midnight.

"Happy Birthday, love." you greeted.

"Oh, it's my birthday now? I guess I deserve another round of gift, hm?"

Chuckling at his response, you playfully hit him on the shoulder before grabbing his face and kissing him again.

The two of you ended up sleeping at 4 in the morning that day. 

[thomaslittlegirl]

sleepy. cillian murphy

warnings; sleepy sex, creampie.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

it was late at night when you finally consider that you've spent enough time watching your series and get ready to go to bed.

you had started a new show and you had been so caught up in the plot that it just flew by and you didn't realize how late it was.

the clock on the living room wall read 3.50 am.

you let out a sigh and headed to the room you shared with your fiancé, the comfortable blanket wrapped around your tired body.

cillian had been asleep for quite some time, with his body completely spread out in the center of the bed. there was no place for you to get in without waking him up so, carefully, you placed the blanket on the edge of the bed and began to crawl over his body, your hair tickling his face.

your lips went to his cheeks and you began to kiss them softly, trying to wake him up as peacefully as possible.

“love…” you whisper, continuing your kisses.

"mhm?" he murmurs sleepily, his eyes opening slowly when he feels your wet lips trace a path on his neck.

"you're on my side of the bed, again." cillian gives a nasal chuckle and wraps his arms around your waist.

somehow or another, the man always managed to end up in your space; as if his body was unconsciously searching for your smell when you weren't lying next to him.

"im sorry, i cant help it."

your lips finally reach his and you give him a peck, smiling sleepily.

murphy steps aside and makes room for you to lie down. your back hits his chest and you feel his large arm reach across your side, holding you in a hug.

eyes close with pleasure when you feel his mouth place small kisses on your neck, returning the treatment you gave him minutes before.

his tongue moves with experience and knowledge on your skin, knowing which places drive you crazy and melt you like sand in his hands. as your boyfriend kisses the back of your neck, you feel one of his playful hands slipping into your underwear.

his middle finger runs up and down between the space of your folds a few times, testing the waters before sinking his finger against your clit.

"cillian..."

the man touches your cunt to his liking, caressing it as if it belonged to him.

"yes...?"

"what are you doing?" you ask, feeling your bottom heat up at the intrusion on your panties.

"just playing with your pussy." he points obvious. you press your lips together to not let out any moans. "can i taste it, my love? can i eat your cunt?"

the sweet question makes you gasp, the pad of his middle finger rubbing your clit making you even wetter.

the idea is tempting, even more so when you have too much knowledge about how good the irishman is at eating pussy: as devoted as a hungry man.

however, you feel too tired to let that happen, knowing that once he sinks into your wetness, he won't stop until you can't squirt any more juices onto his face.

"im tired, love." you reply, hoping not to disappoint him. "can you just put it inside, please?"

he nods, placing one last kiss on the back of your head. the man takes his hard cock out of his pants and boldly takes off your own pants and underwear. cillian spits into his hand and pumps his erection a little; he knows you're wet enough to take him but he tries to make it easier for you anyway, like the gentleman he is.

the head of his cock positions itself at your soaked hole and he squeezes your waist, letting you know that he is ready.

as you nod he sinks inside you, deep inside, the way he likes. he waits a few seconds for you to adjust to the intrusion before starting to move.

"do you feel me, baby?" he asks, his hand groping your tits as he spoons you. "do you feel me inside you?" you nod, eyes closed in pleasure as you feel him fuck your cunt heavenly. "yes, i know you feel me deep inside you... im so deep i could leave a baby if i wanted to."

you moan and bite your lips, making them bleed. the idea of ​​cillian fucking you a baby was a topic that always helped both of you cum quickly.

his sleepy thrusts become erratic after a minute, big hand leave your tits and starts making circles and patterns on your clit, stimulating you while he doesn't stop fucking your pussy.

the way you moan his name and your insides suck him in drives him completely crazy, bringing him closer.

"can't take it anymore." you warn, feeling how you begin to cum in his hand, dripping all over the sheets. your boyfriend grunts, fucking your pussy through your orgasm.

"good girl, you're making a mess for me." he praises.

you coming so hard always made him feel proud.

"inside." you ask, breathless. "cum inside."

he can't refuse when you ask so sweetly, so after a few seconds he cums inside you, leaving his seed on your body.

cillian presses a kiss to your head, caressing one of your legs gently. you can't keep your eyes open any longer and neither can he, sleep taking over both of you after sex.

that night, you both sleep connected, with cillian's cum resting deep inside you, his cock keeping your pussy filled.

[your-nanas-house]

Hi Nana! I would love to read about Cillian breeding his younger wife, and then absolutely worshipping her once she is carrying his baby<3

Hi! Thanks for the request, I'm sorry it took me so long. 💕

Can't get enough of you

◇ Pairing: Cillian Murphy x pregnant wife!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, eating out, mention of sex, Y/n is pregnant, breeding kink, mostly fluff

◇ Summary: Cillian can't get enough of his pregnant wife.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. It's a drabble.

There he was, her husband... with his salt and pepper hair brushing against her skin, his soft lips moving on her swollen belly as he read a story to their son with his deep and bit ruff, from the previous activities, voice.

Since they found out about the pregnancy Cillian had been extra careful and loving, making love to her every day, taking care of her body and her needs while bonding with the little one as best he could.

"I swear if I could I would breed you over and over again" the crude words escaped his mouth which was still busy with the soft action of affection. The book was long forgotten, now closed on the edge of the bed as he slowly lowered his path, his big hands grabbing her thighs as his light piercing eyes met hers

"Please, just one more, love" the man begged, eager to tate his wife for the third time that evening. His tongue was already sticking out, joining in the open mouth kisses he was leaving on her warm skin

"Just one to help you sleep better" he added in a softer tone, reaching finally her bare cunt with his mouth. His lips wrapped around her swollen clit to start the sensual and intimate kiss.

With the pregnancy, she felt orgasms even harder than before. Even a small stimulation brought her tears and spasms of pleasure, so it took her husband little time to make Y/n reach her peak. His tongue still worked and lapped at her juice even after the intensity of her climax faded.

"Too much, Cilly" her voice cracked softly, her hands pulling at his hair to make the hungry man move away from her cunt. At least for that night.

"Sorry, darling. I just can't have enough of you... like this. With our baby growing in your belly" the actor cursed under his breath, massagging softly her thighs, deciding to get up and clean just after worshiping her body a little more with soft kisses and caress.

The light got turned off and Cillian voice broke the silence one more time

"Did I exaggerated?" He asked after they were both laying in the bed, cuddling into each others arms. He sounded weaker now, almost hesitant and she could exactly picture the soft frown on his face even though she couldn't see it in the dark.

"No, it was perfect. We continue tomorrow morning. I read somewhere that it is healthy when you are pregnant" Y/n reassured him, taking a more comfortable position before leaving a sweet kiss on his cheekbone followed by a whispered 'Love you'.

[drcranessweetestdoe]

hi, how are u? i have an idea for a smutty fic...

OK, hear me out:

dom!stepdad!cillian with sub!stepdaughter!reader who punishes her for sneaking out to go to a party

hii, I’m good! thank u for requesting I love this idea xx

Bad, bad bunny

warning: minors dni! stepcest, dom!sub themes, mentions of cheating, power play, daddy kink, age gap, dub-con (but not really? reader is into it), dumbificaton, Cillian only starts lusting after her once she turns 18!

pairing: dom!stepfather Cillian Murphy x sub!stepdaughter Reader

summary: Y/N sneaks out for a party, and her stepfather, Cillian, makes sure it never happens again

She was always such a good girl. Always obedient, always listening to him without talking back. Maybe that’s why he felt so drawn to her.

Her mother, Mrs.(Y/L/N), and Cillian married when (Y/N) was only 14, just a clueless girl back then. Everything was lovely in the beginning, her mother acted nice and lovey dovey until he married her. Cillian regretted it the second he slid the ring onto her finger, when he saw that certain look in her eyes. But, at least it made Cillian promise something to himself, he will keep little (Y/N) safe and innocent. He won’t let her become the spiteful whore her mother was. He knew she was cheating on him and their marriage, going out late in the night, taking advantage of the fact that he was working so much. There were times when she was out for days, and then she eventually stopped coming home, she sneaked in when her husband and her daughter were asleep, took her stuff and fled right out of their lives.

Cillian was more relieved than anything. He filed in for a divorce and also filed for custody, he wasn’t going to leave the poor 15 year old girl on her own. He moved them away, bought a beautiful house in Dublin. It had a big garden, a pool, even a personal library. He loved seeing that look in his stepdaughter’s eyes, when her big eyes sparkled with adoration.

He made sure to spoil her, give her anything she asked for. Thankfully, she never became a brat, she was always so grateful for him and the pretty things she enjoyed.

As the years went by, Cillian watched the girl grow into a gorgeous little thing. He noticed how she started filling in her clothes, how they became tighter on her body, and it excited him. He always found her beautiful, but in a way a father would find his child beautiful. Now, he felt arousal pool in his stomach when he looked at her, his lovely bunny. When he watched her swim around the pool, while he was making dinner for them, he would really see how her body evolved. Perky breasts nearly spilling out of her white bikini, her nipples would harden up from the water and they poked through the light fabric. Her hips widened, he found himself wanting to grip on them as well as on her round butt.

He loved the girlish style she developed, her wardrobe contained lots of pink, lace and silk. It brought a sense of pride knowing that it was all bought with his money, her clothes, her room, basically anything she touched. She was all his. She cared for him as much as he cared for her, such a sweet girl. She did well in school, she always ran into his arms with a giggle when she got her usual good marks.

Everything was perfect. Her 19th birthday went by and he found himself more attracted to her than ever. One night, he was on his way to give her usual good night kiss, but he was confused when he opened the door to an empty room. He was sure she would be sleeping already, given the fact that he stayed up quite late tonight. Her bed was made, her pyjamas folded up beside her pillow. She wasn’t in her bathroom, however he could smell her perfume.

His body filled with rage when he noticed her window open. She sneaked out, his dear bunny sneaked out. For good knows what. He sat on her bed in disbelief, he was very angry with her. Until, he looked sideway, he saw an pair of her panties, hanging from the side. He squatted beside it and snatched the used lace. Back on her bed, he thumbed the area where her intimate parts rested against, he felt the sticky substance. He felt his cock stir in his underwear when he felt her sweet scent fill up the room. That is when the idea hit him, and a wicked smirk fell upon his lips. He would make sure that his little bunny never disobeys him again.

He waited her for her to come home, he sat on her vanity chair with the lights turned off. It wasn’t even an hour before he heard her noises outside, he smirked proudly. He saw her sneak in the window again and he waited for her to turn her lights on and he spoke up when she did.

“Did you enjoy yourself, bunny?” He stood up and made his way to her. Her eyes were wide and her lips were open. He couldn’t deny, she looked stunning. Her pink dress hugged her figure, her soft hair adorned a matching pink ribbon, as it always did. He couldn’t stop thinking about what was under her dress.

“I-I…”

“Sit down on the bed, and explain what you were doing.” She did as she was told, with her gaze planted on her lap.

“I was going to a party. I’m sorry.” He felt his anger rise within him again.

“Look at me.” He said sternly. He was glad to know that she was ashamed and that she felt bad for playing him like that. “Was it worth it?”

“No… I know I shouldn’t have. I just…” Tears began to form in her eyes. He came closer and stood infront of her, making her look up at him with those pretty doe eyes. He signalled her to continue. “I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. But I didn’t like it! All I could think about was how much better it would be if I was here with you, I was only there for half an hour.” His eyes softened at this, his sweet girl was so eager to come back home to him, he caressed her soft cheek with one hand.

“Did you drink?” She shook her head. “Did you take anything from anyone?” She did it again, then he questioned what he feared the most. “Did you do anything with boys?” He was relieved when yet again, she motioned ‘no’ with her head. “Good.”

He felt her nuzzle her cheek into his palm, but suddenly he gripped her face harshly. “Your actions have consequences. You need to be punished, so in the future you will behave like the good girl I know you are.” He pulled her up by her hair and his dick throbbed when she whined. He left her standing there dumbly, while he took a seat on her bed. “Strip.”

Her eyes widened, she had some mascara marks at her waterline already, she will be a mess by the time he is finished with her.

“W-What?”

“Dumb little girl. Strip for daddy, show him what you have under the dress he bought for his little princess.” The word ‘daddy’ seemed to have woken something in her, her eyes got a desperate look in them and she started to follow his orders.

She let the dress fall off her frame, now she stood in front of him in lingerie. He knew she was innocent, he always made sure to shoo the boys away from her. She bought lacy underwear simply because she found it pretty, he did too, but only on her. How he wanted to mark up her untouched skin. Touch it, kiss it, suck it, bruise it.

He motioned her to come over with two fingers. When she stopped in front of him, he made sure to take a moment and be delicate with her. He let his hands wander across her hips and waist, a shiver ran up her spine at his warm touch. “Across my lap, bunny.”

She kneeled beside his thighs, but he grabbed her hair tightly when she was about to lay down. Instead of a whine, she let out a moan, she felt the pain transform into arousal and go right to her cunt. He pulled her face close to his, the slut in his arms closed her eyes and sighed at the scent of his cologne, he smelled like… a man, her man. His scent mingled with her sweet one in the air, the perfect mix of two opposites. He whispered into her ear. “I expect to be answered. And I expect you to be thankful that your daddy is trying so hard to keep you in line, little doe.”

“Yes, daddy, I’m sorry. Thank you for being so good to me.” With the hand that wasn’t used to hold herself up, she caressed his neck and smiled in a sweet manner.

“Good girl.” He helped her get comfortable across his lap, and continued caressing her skin. He kneaded her round ass and gave it a light slap to test the waters. He knew she could feel his erection against her tummy, he wanted her to know how much he desired her. The ribbon was slipped out of her hair and around her wrist. “You will count for me, and thank me for every spank.”

She wasn’t expecting the harsh slap that he did across her ass, she moaned loudly and somehow whimpered out. “One, thank you, daddy.”

Smack! “T-Two. Thank you.” Smack! “Three. Thank you da-“ SMACK! “DA—“ SMACK!

He kept striking the red skin of her ass, every spank more painful than the other. She stopped counting, she just let her face mush against her floral sheet and she whimpered. Tears mixed with mascara were running down her cheeks, and there was a little pool of drool on the fabric, where her mouth was dropped open.

Despite her behaviour, he felt the heat against his palm radiating from her warm pussy. He suddenly stopped, her whiny sounds were filling up the room. “Did you learn your lesson, bunny?” She just nodded into the sheet, so he gripped the reddest area of her butt, hard. “Pardon? I didn’t hear you.”

“Yes, daddy! I learned my lesson. I won’t do it again, I won’t do anything bad again. I’m sorry.” She looked back at him with a pleading look in her teary eyes. God, he thought she looked absolutely beautiful, so messy and fucked out. He couldn’t wait to see her like that on his cock, but he will have to wait for that, she deserved to be treated gently.

“Good girl. My good little bunny.” He undid the ribbon around her wrists and spun her around in his arms. She hissed when her butt touched his thigh but relaxed the second he wrapped her in his arms. “There, there. You did so good, little doe, you deserve a treat now.”

He slowly slipped his hand down to her cunt, and clicked his tongue when he felt her wetness. He massaged her entrance for a hot second before bringing her slick up to her little nub. “Eager, are we?” She was whining when his fingers started to do little circles on her clit. Her pretty face was hidden in his neck and her fingers wrapped themselves in his hair. Her leg twitched when he sped up his movements.

“Oh- Daddy!”

“I know, little one.” She came on his finger with a whiny moan and then relaxed in his arms. He saw how she was sleepy and exhausted. He stood up, carrying her in bridal style and he made his way to her bathroom.

“Let’s get you cleaned up for bed. Daddy loves you so much, bunny, he just wants to keep you safe.” He whispered

She gave him one of her sweet smiles and she snuggled more into him.

“I love you too, daddy.”

[slut4thebroken]

Stress Relief

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Cillian Murphy x reader

Summary | Holidays with your family are hard, but Cillian makes it a little more bearable.

Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, large age gap (unspecified), fluffy ish smut, oral (kind of), praise, a lil degradation, kissing, fingering, I need him to talk me through it 😭

Words | 3.6 k

Notes | Pretend I posted this 2 months ago💀🤫 Also wow- first /not/ dark smut in a while I think skdhdk

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

With a heavy sigh, you flopped down onto the bed as he looked through his luggage. 

“Just a few more days.” You said through a breath. 

“Let’s get you changed, yeah?” You grunted out an acknowledgement, keeping your eyes closed and not moving. You heard him chuckle, then your shoes were being taken off. “I can’t tell if I make things better or worse by being here.” 

“Better. Definitely better.” You sighed and he unbuttoned your pants before pulling them down your legs. 

“I’m not sure they like me very much though.” He was saying it like a joke, but you knew he didn’t like the fact that most of your family disapproved. 

“I don’t care.” You muttered. When he pulled your torso to slip your sweater off, you whined in displeasure. He dressed you in your sleep shirt, then lifted you to carry you over to your side of the bed and lay you back down. If your family saw this, they’d probably understand. But he’s always been a perfect gentleman— polite, kind, respectful. You didn’t get why his age overshadowed all of that. When your eyes fluttered open, you turned your head to the side to watch him change into his pajamas, then he was pulling the covers back and joining you. 

“Thank you for being here.” You said softly, turning on your side to face him. He gave you a warm smile and brushed your hair away from your face. 

“I just hate seeing how stressed you get.” He murmured, gaze trailing all over your face. 

“You help a lot. More than you know.” You returned the smile and placed a hand on his arm. He stared at you for a moment, then reached behind himself to turn off the lamp. 

“C’mere.” He said quietly, pulling you into him. He placed a gentle kiss on your head and you buried your blushing face in his chest, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. After a while, he started trailing one hand up and down your arm, relaxing you even more. That is… until his hand started straying to your hip. 

“Not here.” You whispered. It took every ounce of self restraint you had to gently bat his hand away, but he was undeterred. 

“You can be quiet.” His hand was gripping your hip now, teasing the fabric of your underwear. 

“Cillian, you can literally hear everything in this house.” As if to emphasize your point, you heard a cough come from one of the rooms. 

“Then don’t make any noise, baby.” He pushed you onto your back and started kissing the side of your neck as his warm hand rubbed your stomach, beneath the shirt. You let out a pleased sigh and tilted your head to give him more room, making him chuckle quietly. He suddenly moved his hand down, beneath your underwear, and swiped his fingers through your slit. 

“Christ.” He whispered, making you whine from embarrassment, but he quickly shushed you, reminding you to be quiet. 

“Cillian.” You said through a breath. You brought a hand up to grip his bicep, but you didn’t try to pull him away. His fingers rubbed slow circles over your clit and he gently nipped at your neck. You wanted nothing more than for him to suck the skin into his mouth, mark you as his… but you knew that would only make things worse between him and your family. When you whined quietly, he seemed to pick up on what you were thinking because he pushed your shirt up your body to kiss your chest, leaving a few marks. 

His free hand suddenly covering your mouth almost made you moan, but his fingers slipping inside was what actually made the sound come out. He pressed down harder, trying to muffle your sounds even more. You breathed heavily through your nose as he slowly curled his fingers inside you. Scrunching your brows, you stared at him with wide eyes and shook your head beneath his hand. 

“Let me be your stress relief, baby.” He whispered, starting to move his fingers a little faster now. You whimpered quietly, his words and actions making you melt. 

Your hips were squirming against his hand now, trying to get more from what he was giving you. He leaned back down and softly kissed your jaw, then worked his way down your neck, stopping just below your ear. 

“Can you be quiet?” He whispered, breath fanning your ear, and you nodded even though you didn’t believe it. The second he removed his hand, his face was going back into your chest, this time paying attention to your breasts. Your breath caught in your throat and you brought your hands up to his hair when he sucked your nipple into his mouth. 

“Cillian..” You whispered, hips grinding against his hand. 

“Shh, baby. No sounds.” He said softly, barely pulling away enough to speak. Once he deemed your nipple hard enough, he moved to the other one to give it the same treatment. “Good girl.” That made you whine and pull harder on his hair. You bit your lip until it hurt, trying to keep the sounds in. But when his fingers sped up and the heel of his hand started stimulating your clit, you knew you couldn’t do it. 

“I can’t— I can’t.. fuck.” You whispered, squeezing your eyes shut and putting all of your focus into staying silent. 

“You can.” He kissed up your chest and neck until he reached your face. “Let me make you feel good, baby.” You opened your eyes when you felt his breath fanning your lips. 

“This door doesn’t even lock.” You protested weakly. 

“All the more reason to stay quiet.” Before you could say anything else, he leaned down and kissed softly. His fingers slowed into a gentle curling motion, not trying to bring you closer to the edge yet. When you snaked a hand down his stomach, he broke the kiss and gently pulled your hand away. “This is just about you, love.” He explained, making you frown.

“But,”

“None of that.” He scolded softly. “Anything I do with my cock, you won’t be able to stay quiet for.” Even though you knew he was right, you still weren’t happy about it. “Don’t be a brat.” He warned when he saw your expression. 

“m’not.” You muttered, still pouting. 

“Should I stop? Leave you like this and go to bed?” You looked away from him, still wanting to argue, but not wanting to be denied. “Thought so. Now be a good little girl, lay there and take my fingers,” his eyes darkened as he leaned closer to you, “and keep your fucking mouth shut.” He hissed, using his hard dom voice. You stared at him with wide eyes, chest heaving as you squirmed, getting needier just from a few words. 

“Do you understand?” You nodded quickly and he raised his brows. 

“Y-yes.” You corrected yourself. His fingers picked back up almost immediately and your hand shot up to cover your mouth, muffling the moan that slipped out. He didn’t bother building back up to the pace, he just went from zero to one hundred. 

You breathed heavily through your nose, scrunching your brows together in concentration. His lips were slightly parted as he stared down at you with half lidded eyes, clearly affected by this situation as well. 

When he hit that particularly good spot inside of you, your eyes widened even more and you shook your head with a quiet whimper, warning him. There’s no way you’ll be able to stay quiet. His fingers were moving almost violently and you sobbed out a moan, making them stop instantly. You whined in response and he used his free hand to grab your neck, squeezing the sides tightly. 

“What did I say?” He hissed and you removed your hand from your mouth finally. 

“I’m sorry— I’m sorry. I’m trying…” You whispered through a breath. “Please.” When you pouted and bucked your hips, his expression turned into one of amusement. 

“Fine.” He resumed the relentless pace, keeping his hand on your neck. “You want to moan like a slut for the whole house to hear? That’s fine by me.” You faltered because, no… that’s not what you wanted. “Give them a show, baby. Make sure they all know how good I make you feel— how easy it is to turn you into a brainless little whore, unable to keep your fucking mouth shut.” He hissed, making you even needier. 

“Cillian..” You whined. 

“Yes, love?” He asked innocently. 

“I’m trying.” You whimpered, feeling tears of humiliation and desperation stinging your eyes. 

“I know, baby.” He cooed mockingly. “I know you are.” It almost seemed like he wanted you to be loud with the way he started grinding his palm against your clit and moving his fingers faster. Wet noises were just barely audible beneath the blankets but you knew he heard it too when he let out a breathy laugh. “Such a needy fucking pussy.” He whispered with a small smirk. “You’re dripping down my hand too.”

“Stop teasing me.” You whined with a pout. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I can’t help it.” He chuckled warmly. 

“You’re being mean!” Under normal circumstances, this would’ve been when you raised your voice at him. 

“Fingering my girlfriend is mean?” 

“Stop it!” You whined, louder this time. Your frown deepened, but it was hard to keep the expression with his fingers still curling against your walls. 

“Enough.” He growled, his grip on your neck tightening even more as his fingers inside you came to a stop. “Tell me the safe word.” He ordered, tone slightly softer, but still stern. You bit your lip and averted your gaze, making him squeeze your neck harder until you looked at him again. 

“…Red.” You muttered. 

“That’s right. The only time I want you to open your fucking mouth is to say that. One more word and I’ll shove my cock so deep down your throat you won’t even be able to make any sounds.” He warned. He’s big enough where even when you deepthroat, you can’t go all the way down. So you took the threat to heart. “Do you understand?”  

“Yes.” You whispered, then quickly closed your mouth. He didn’t bother replying before slowly moving his fingers again, getting you used to the feeling. You tried to take deep breaths through your nose to stay calm and collected, but you were still looking at Cillian, his face lit up by the moonlight. 

His gaze flickered between your eyes and your mouth and you instantly recognized the facial expression he had— The hunger and heat in his eyes as he prepared to ravish you. Normally that look was followed shortly after by him mounting you as he kissed you, swallowing your moans and pushing his cock inside, only stopping when he was buried all the way in. Judging by his heavy breathing and the way his cheeks tensed as he clenched his jaw, you figured he was thinking the same thing. 

You almost moaned his name, but remembered just before the word could come out. So you pleaded with him silently by furrowing your brows and looking up at him with wide eyes. He cursed under his breath and closed his eyes for a moment as he composed himself. 

When he suddenly got up on his knees and settled between your open legs, you felt a flicker of hope that you’d get what you wanted. He leaned down to kiss you, but made no move to take out his fingers or push down his pants. It took everything in you to not whine. 

He started kissing over your jaw and down your neck to your chest. When his lips latched on to your nipple, you quickly covered your mouth to hold in the sounds begging to escape. He rolled the other one between his fingers gently and your free hand went to his hair, tugging on it and pulling him impossibly closer. He let out a low groan from the slight pain on his scalp, the sound adding to your arousal. 

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” He murmured, lifting his head to look at you as his hand started rubbing up and down your side. His fingers picked up, going faster and harder, bringing you closer to the edge. “My perfect little girl.” He whispered, leaning back over you and cupping your cheek. 

He suddenly kissed you again, his lips moving passionately against yours, claiming you in whatever way he could. While you were distracted with the kiss, he forced a third finger inside, making you release a startled moan that was muffled by his lips. Once you quieted down again, he reluctantly pulled back. 

“Can you come for me, baby?” He rasped, almost sounding desperate for it. When you nodded quickly, he gave you a warm smile. “Good girl… Can you be quiet while you do?” You looked away sheepishly, not sure if you should be honest or tell him what he wants to hear. You looked at him again and nodded slowly, your face almost looking guilty while you answered him. He chuckled quietly and gave you another kiss, this one much quicker. “That’s my girl.” He whispered proudly, making you blush and buck your hips into his hand. 

His fingers suddenly sped up, curling against your walls as his hand pressed firmly against your clit. Your blush darkened when he continued staring down at you, his eyes half-lidded with arousal. You couldn’t wait to finally go home so he could actually fuck you. It’s barely been a week and you’re already going crazy without having his cock inside you. 

Maybe you can convince him to take you to the “store” or something tomorrow and then park somewhere secluded and fuck in the car. But also the build up of so many days without it will make for some pretty fucking good sex when you get home… You couldn’t help but think about what he’d do— how many times he’d make you come, how sore and bruised your body would get, how much he’d fill you up, breed you until he didn’t have any come left to give you. 

“Fuck,” You choked out, clinging to his shoulders as the knot of arousal in your stomach tightened considerable. “I- I’m…” You whispered, unable to say anything else. His hand suddenly covered your mouth again, making you moan quietly. 

“Come for me, baby. Let me make you feel good.” He begged, voice incredibly raspy now. 

Your orgasm finally crashed over you and you clenched your jaw, trying to stifle your sounds. His fingers never faltered as your walls clamped down on them tight enough to almost force them out. “Good girl… I’m so proud of you, baby.” He cooed, making you whine and arch up into him as you rode it out to the very end. When you finally sagged back into the bed and started panting, he released your mouth and slowly pulled his fingers out. You watched as he instinctively lifted them toward his mouth, then suddenly stopped, staring at them for a moment. Cursing under his breath, he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a tissue to clean them off. When he looked at you again and saw your confused expression, he explained. 

“If I taste you, I won’t be able to stop myself from eating you out and you're even louder during that.” You blushed, but laughed quietly because he was right. Finally, he laid down next to you and when you got up to move to the foot of the bed, he pulled you back with a gentle hand on your wrist. 

“I’m okay, baby.” He said softly, but his voice was still thick with arousal. “Tonight was just about you.” He kissed the top of your head and you couldn’t help but blush. 

“But…” You can literally see his hard on from beneath the covers. And also your mouth is already watering at just the thought of tasting and feeling him. “I want it.” You pouted, like a child who was denied a treat. 

“Not tonight, love. You’ll be too loud and it’s too messy.” You frowned, but didn’t protest because you were already coming up with a plan in your head. 

“Fine. We’ll just sleep then.” You grabbed his wrist and pulled as you turned onto your side, facing away from him. He cuddled you from behind, being careful to keep his hips far away from yours. After maybe a minute, you subtly shifted around, pushing your ass back. You didn’t reach his bulge before he grabbed your hip hard to hold you still. 

“Stop.” He warned, breath fanning your neck, making you shiver. 

“I’m just trying to get comfortable.” You said innocently, making him scoff. 

“No, you’re being a brat.” 

“I thought tonight was about me and what I want. Well this is what I want.” You reached behind yourself and palmed his bulge before he could stop you. He grunted in surprise, then his grip on your body got infinitely tighter. 

“Fuck— fuck. Fine.” He muttered, turning to lay on his back. You smirked and moved down the bed until you were laying between his legs. Without wasting any time, you freed his cock and stroked him slowly, making him sigh quietly. 

“In your mouth.” He ordered and you obeyed eagerly. When you started going up and down, keeping your hand at the base, he stopped you. “No. I’m going to fuck my fist and you’re going to keep your mouth on it until I come. Understand?” As soon as you realized that you weren’t going to be actively participating, you pouted and looked at him with puppy dog eyes. “It's either this or I go jerk off in the bathroom and finish in the toilet instead.” You whined loudly and his hand shot out to grab your hair and pull roughly. “Quiet.” He hissed. 

“Cillian..” You whined again, quieter this time. When all he did was stare at you, you frowned and removed your hand, letting his replace it. Once his hand was on his cock, you took the tip in your mouth and closed your lips around it with a quiet whine. 

“Good girl.” You whimpered, then started suckling on it, getting needier when you could taste some precum. For a while he just stroked his cock, enjoying the feeling of your mouth on him. But you needed more. 

“You’re not close yet, right?” 

“No.” He said through a breath. You immediately dove down and started kissing and licking his balls, forcing a choked moan out of him. You chuckled quietly and shushed him, but kept going. When you sucked one into your mouth, his hips bucked and he threw his head back, biting his lip to stifle any sounds. The sight had you squeezing your thighs together, but you forced your focus back onto the task at hand. 

“Shit, baby…” He whispered. Other than his heavy breathing, the only other sound that filled the room was your mouth, licking and sucking as saliva started building up. If you were at home, the sounds would’ve been far more obscene and spit would’ve been dripping down your chin by now, but you tried to keep things quiet and mess free. 

“Back on my cock.” He rushed out, stroking himself faster. You leaned up and wrapped your lips around him again, suckling on the head and swirling your tongue around it. One of your hands moved to gently play with his balls, giving him even more stimulation. 

“Christ… Don’t stop, baby. Please don’t stop.” He whispered, jerking himself impossibly faster. You hollowed your cheeks and sucked him down a little more. Instead of reprimanding you, he cursed under his breath and reached his free hand out toward you. “Hold my hand.” He begged. “I won’t be able to stop myself from pushing you down.” Even though your whole body was craving that, you knew it would be too loud, so you gave him your free hand and he squeezed it tight. 

He didn’t give you any warning before his abs contracted as his whole body tensed up, then the first shot of come hit the back of your mouth. You let out a surprised sound and his grip on your hand got even tighter. He fisted his cock rapidly, giving you every last drop as his lips parted in a silent moan and his brows scrunched together from the pleasure. 

Even though this seemed like one of the more tame ways you’ve given oral, it still felt dirtier than most. He wasn’t fucking your mouth or your throat, using you to get himself off. He was getting himself off and just using you as a cumdump. He wasn’t using you for pleasure, he was using you the same way he would a toilet, had he gone to the bathroom to jerk off. The thought had you moaning loudly before you could hold it in. 

When his body finally relaxed and his hand slowed to a stop, you pulled off and opened your mouth, showing him how well you’d done your job. His cock twitched and you smiled even though your mouth was still open, making him curse under his breath. You finally closed your mouth and swallowed all of it, then opened it again and stuck your tongue out for him to see. 

“Get up here.” He said almost breathlessly. With his hand still holding yours, he used it to pull you up until you were laying on your stomach, half on the bed and half on him. “You’re a damn tease, you know that?” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You said innocently, with a small smirk. 

Taglist (join here)

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[mythos-writes]

Welcome Home

Cillian Murphy x wife! Reader

Plot: Cillian was scheduled to come home after filming. When he walked through the door (Y/N) was quite shocked at what she saw…

Word Count: 918

Warning: suggested sexual themes (No spoilers) This is a work of fiction

I saw Oppenheimer the other night and, omg I hope everyone who took part in making it is proud of this film.

Masterlist

It was the final weeks of filming Christopher Nolen's newest movie, Oppenheimer. It had been months since (Y/N) and Cillian had seen each other face to face, and she was ready to see him in the flesh. They saw eachother for a little bit between the ending filming of Peaky Blinders and before he left for Oppenheimer. She had flown out to set early into the filming of the movie. Then life got in the way and the only way that they could see and hear each other was through Facetime and phone calls. 

She had been baking all day, and as it turned into the afternoon, she knew she needed to start on dinner. (Y/N) started prepping for one of Cillian’s favourite dishes, when she heard the door unlock and open. A shuffle of suitcases and shoes is heard from the entranceway of the home.

“(Y/N)? Are you home?” Cillian’s voice rings through their shared home. 

She quickly finished up what she was cutting, and whipped her hands on her pants before running out of the kitchen to meet him. 

“Cill, oh how I’ve missed you,” she says before jumping into his arms, squeezing him as she hugged him. 

“Oh I’ve missed you too love,” he replies, squeezing her just as hard. They latched onto eachother and didn’t want to let go. When they finally let go of each other, she saw how much weight he had lost. She knew he was gonna lose some weight for the role, but she didn’t think he was gonna change that much. 

“What is it?” he asks, a little worried at (Y/N)’s silence. 

“I didn’t think you would lose so much weight,” she states. He was always fit and skinny but for his role as J. Robert Oppenheimer, he needed to lose some of the Tommy shape that he had come accustomed to over the years.

“Don’t worry love, Tommy is still here,” he says jokingly in his signature Birmingham accent. She rolls her eyes before dragging him to the bedroom. When they entered the room Cillian brought her into a deep kiss. (Y/N) tugged on his shirt, wanting it off. He gently pushes her onto the bed, giving him a chance to take it off. 

“You take a shower and a nap. I’ll come wake you when dinner is ready,” she says while placing one last kiss on his lips. He didn’t let go quite yet. 

“I love you,” he says as he studied his wife and placed a few kisses along her jaw and neck before letting her go. 

“I love you too,” she replies before leaving the bedroom. 

A few hours later, (Y/N) had finished cooking and plated everything for the two of them. She cleaned up a little, before walking back up to the bedroom to see hopefully her sleeping husband. She slowly opened the door, revealing a sleeping Cillian. His hair was still wet, revealing that he did have a shower. 

She walked over to his side of the bed, sitting beside him. He slightly moved, but that was because of the sinking of the bed. She leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek.

Nothing.

Wow, he must be in a deep sleep she thought before placing a few more kisses across his face. He moved a little, but his eyes didn’t open. (Y/N) then got an idea that would truly get him up. She got up and maneuvered herself to lie on top of her husband. He let out a groan at the new weight that was added onto him. She knew he was awake now. 

“Come on babe, it is time to get up,” she whispers in his ear. He moved his head to face her, which made her laugh.

Somehow he wrapped his arms around her and wrestled her underneath him. Cillian hovers over her, sleep still clear over his features. 

“Dinner is ready,” she says with a smile. He just shakes his head before lowering himself onto her, repaying the favour that she just did. She groaned when the full weight of him was felt. 

“Cillian, come on. Dinner is getting cold,” she states, trying to not let him fall asleep again. 

“We have a microwave for a reason love,” he rebuttals, getting comfortable on her stomach. She sighed knowing he had won this round. (Y/N) adjusted herself before playing with his damp curly hair. When he was away, she missed these small moments that they shared. Leaving the hustle and bustle of everyday life and the crazy filming schedule Cillian would have to navigate. But in these moments everything goes away. It was their escape from reality for a little while. 

“I love you so much Cillian,” she says before placing a kiss on the crown of his head. He looked up at her and returned the kiss on her sternum. 

“I love you so much more, (Y/N),” he replies. He placed another kiss on her stomach before closing his eyes again. 

“Welcome home,” she replies quietly before going back to playing with his hair, soothing him back to sleep. Leaving their dinner to cool, and to be reheated later.

[xephyras]

' A Second Reflection '

MDNI. 18+ ONLY.

a/n: i fear i possibly cooked with this? idk, i wrote it in like 2 hours. first cillian murphy centric smut kinda goes hard.

btw: that new M. Night Shyalaman movie ‘Trap’ sucks. It's basically slutty Josh Hartnett being a dad with mommy issues and everyone not doing their job.

Second, yes, this is fucking diabolical and will in fact be better because I am amazing at writing darker shit.

Third, yes, this is because I watched Red Eye again on my Roku at 1 a.m in my duplex. (Sorry to my upstairs neighbor if you heard my tv.)

warnings: DUB/NONCON. dead dove do NOT eat, 18+, evil!dom!stalker! jackson rippner and sub! reader. jackson rippner is an actual villain, not bastardized, rough sex, unprotected p in v, breeding kink from rippner, dumbification (once again my weakness), heavy degregation, spit kink, biting kink, just overall really mouthy rippner, major power play kink, size difference if you squint, bruising, hickeys, break in, choking, hair pulling, slapping, mirror kink, blood kink, also, jackson rippner is like lowk pathetic bcz, yk... men whining.

word count: 4.18k

NOT proofread, I apologize in advance for any errors or mistakes!

"Keep your eyes on me, slut. I want to see your face while I fuck you.” He barked out, straining on your hair again as he pulled you up.

Darkness filled the room you sat in comfortably, your dust-covered mirror shimmering softly in the cinnamon candles you had lit a few minutes before. Duvet covered pulled up to your chest, and legs shuffling under with a comfort that always seemed to await you, you felt entirely serene.

The day was as usual boring, mostly spent inside working from home, taking a few calls, and mellowing around in your pajamas. These days seem to muddle together into one big mix, but it was nothing you fret over. It was rather comforting compared to the busy streets which bustled from the early hours of dawn to the peak of the night.

Only thing you would say that pinched wildly at your relaxation like a child on St. Patrick's day seeing a person not wearing green, was the overwhelming feeling of a set of prying eyes on you. However, this had become realtively common since you played that damned mirror in front of your bed.

You commonly had liked to rearrange your room; especially on the late nights where your shitty sleep schedule caught up, giving bursts of energy late at night. Hence, you assumed it was your paranoia playing a hopscotch game with you.

Nevertheless, you found the serenity of your window open, blowing a soft wind in, rather comforting. Leaving the blinds open often to let the orange sunset light in, you simply would stare until it went dark at times. Being on the first floor of your home, too, passerby's were actually much more fun to look at than you realized. ‘People-watching’, as some would call it.

However, in this night specifically, the warm breeze flushing onto your shoulders felt rather omniscient of some warning it communicated. You didn't get it, but something irked you. To deprive yourself of your own time, you simply read a book, traveling your mind into the world of your favorite reads.

Conversely, your brain pried at you. Thinking it was simply a lack of sleep, especially because it was now around a quarter after midnight, you set the hard book down. It was a hot night, you might as well have left your window open. After all, it was a safer neighborhood.

After blowing out the residue of your melted candles, you covered the rest of your body with the duvet. Serenity at last, you thought. Gently shutting your eyes, you simply wandered off mentally.

Despite being a rather heavy sleeper, you woke within a few hours to a sense of hefty paranoia. Your eyes couldn't even adjust at first to the darkness and the heaviness of them. Wiping your tiredness away, you peered into your mirror questionably.

The window you leave open, which usually shines in the dim moonlight, was almost blocked? Almost like a shadow. Slowly turning your head to your window to assume it was just your brain, you suddenly saw.

With your heart and sleepiness practically leaping out of your throat in a stiffled yell, shoved the covers off you, preparing to defend your every move. It wasn't just a fucking dark shadow, an entire, short, but rather wide looking silhouette of a man stood quietly, almost mannequin like, against your window sill.

“What the— What the fuck. What the fuck?!” You suddenly screeched out as loud as your throat could allow, the burning of your vocal chords was anything but sensational.

A deep chuckled emerged from the silhouette, shoulders bouncing somehow in a threatening manner. He held something in a pocket of a sweater, of course.

“You need to calm down before I slit your goddamn throat right here.” He suddenly sneered.

You were absolutely frozen, eyes wide with tears you didn't feel even forming. Hands bundled into fists in front of you futily, shaking like you were about to have a seizure.

He stood entirely still once more, practically observing you like some doctor. You decided haphazardly to stand onto your mattress, trying to get a better advantage of higher ground, more area to attack if he did decide to run at you.

“You— need to get the fuck out! Now!” You screamed at the end, trying to not simply break down sobbing. With purpose, your eyes scanned across your room for some weapon.

“I said calm down!” He suddenly grunted out, stomping with one long stride towards you. His palm latched itself to your ankle, dragging you from your sudden position, your head hitting the wall as you fell onto your spine.

A burning familiar to that of a minor concussion filled your senses, a stiffled sob leaving your throat as your vision filled with a dark white, if even possible. Ringing filled your ears as you felt yourself get dragged practically to lay on your stomach, facing your mirror.

He suddenly muttered almost to no one but himself, “You know, you're fucking pathetic. Can't even hold a good fight. All you do is sit—”

A grunt left his throat as he forced his sweater off, tosing it to the side. “And do absolutely nothing. You're a lazy bitch, you should be grateful I’m doing this.” He whispered into your ear, his stubble tickling along your jaw.

Desperately despite your mingling pain in your brain which seemed to radiate to your neck, you flipped yourself to your side, hands raising to try and fling themselves at him. You simply found his hand, calloused and rough, gripping a lump full of your hair, tangling it into his hand. He shoved your head into the mattress, unable to move.

“Stop fighting me, it's useless, whore.” He cursed out to you, a hint of lingering amusement in his poisoned words.

He certainly was talkative. “God, finally able to touch you after so long. You know, I’ve been waiting for the perfect time to do this.” He chuckled out, his voice was unforgivingly soothing while his hands gripped your head like a vice, and forcing the other to grope, pinch, and slap at your back and ass.

Wanting to have his fun, of course. “You need to do more. You're too… lazy. Maybe I’ll fuck a good baby into you, make you mine.” Sneering his voice next to your jaw, licking suddenly. The mixed smell of his aftershave and mahogany-esque cologne was all you tried to focus on.

Your head was utterly pounding, a slight ring in your eardrums forcuing yourself to feel even more of a head ache. Along with his snagging hand forcing you to the bed, and other groping you grotesquely, all you felt was utter pain and despair.

With as much energy as you could have put, you screamed out. Surely someone in this blasted neighborhood would hear. Screaming your pleas of help, Jackson tugged on your hair tight, snapping your neck back and cutting those yells off with a simple yelp into the air like an injured dog.

He dragged his hand from your lower back to your neck, shaking and wet from your tears which stained where he previously pushed you down. With force, he grabbed your neck tight, cutting your blood, but not air off.

“For someone so fucking lazy, only thing you can do right now is put your vocals to use? I will stab you right here and make it look like a suicide. Do yourself a favor and stop gambling with your life.” He enunciated, using his lips to drag themselves along the surrounding area of your ear.

A choke left your throat as the blood rushed back to your brain, the dazy and numb feeling leaving your pained head. You simply felt yourself get flipped to your back, finally being able to see some of the man's face.

He was unfortunately one of the most handsome men you had seen. A sharp jaw, stubbled beard he kept recently, piercing blue eyes. God, why did he have to be doing this?

“Stop it! I'll give you money! Please just stop!” You rasped out with desperate sobs, feeling yourself tears reach to your collarbones. Your nose was running heavy, and lips soaked with your own drool . You didn't care. You were focused enough the fact this man was in your home, hurting you.

His demeanor seemed suddenly much more gentle, but falsely. Like a lion acting gentle as it slowly prides itself up to its prey. His knees trapped around one of yours, holding you tight. With one of his hands, he held your chin now.

Leaning into your wet and puffy face as he smirked, he finally tantalizingly reached his lips to your jaw. “The more you plead, the harder I’m gonna get, and the longer I’ll use you.”

Finally leaning back, he raised his hand to your cheek and slammed it down, hard. A sound only described as a clap released itself along your bedroom walls, swinging your head to the side. Pain radiated harshly though your cheek, hot and burning.

He chuckled at this and leaned down his lips to your heaving neck, using his hands to stabilize himself on either side of your head. Wanting to have a bit of fun with his food so to speak, he licked. Starting at your collarbone, leading itself up to your jugular with silent breaths.

When he did reach, he bit down harshly, hard enough to draw blood, but not hard enough to severely hurt you. A loud shriek left your throat like some horror movie character, your hands flinging up to pull his hair away and desperately claw.

A pained groan left his throat, but he smiled. Finally getting a better view at his face, teeth slightly pink from your neck and his silky hair feeling like knives in your hands suddenly, you realized couldn't even fight him.

Pausing his actions, he developed a nasty sneer of his face, suddenly spitting a glob at your cheek, grabbing your wrists tight enough you knew it'd bruise. Crashing them down into the bed beside you, he dipped his head down once more to your bleeding neck.

Teeth sank into your skin like marshmallows in an out, ranks of pain radiating from your tailbone all the way to the top of your head like you were in a house fire. All you could hear was the ringing of your blasted ears, his heavy breathing and whines, and the shuffle of the duvet.

“God, you taste so fucking good.” He hummed out, licking up the residues and admiring your skin like some sort of art project he made, one he'd surely put on the fridge.

“You know…” he finally leaned back, resting on his knees which trapped you into his touch.

“I've been watching you for a while—before tonight.” Jackson hummed contently, his raspy whisper leaking itself into your ears like honey.

“Especially because… you don't know when—” he spoke, getting up to close the open window. You knew you should've taken it as a chance, but you were frozen. He adjusted your whimsy curtains above it.

“—when to close your goddamn window. It's been such a joy to watch you, you know that? Every morning, you laying in your bed practically refusing to get up… all the way to laying yourself down, leaving it open to feel the breeze.” He chuckled finally at his last words, almost as if to nonverbally stupidly you.

Your head was pounding, the previously persistent ringing now dying down to a simple static noise, deep in your brain. Choked sobs left your throat, your chest heaving with every breath. Barely even being able to see due to the cloudiness of your wet tears, you blinked frantically.

“My boyfriend will be home so—” you attempted to sneer out, getting cut off with a vocal scoff.

“You need to learn how to stop lying, baby.”

Almost as if tantalizing your stupid word choice, he grazed his fingertips up and down your torso, riding your tank top up slightly with every stroke. His breath—you noticed—was heavier, his chest rising and falling every movement.

With a solid hiss, he forced your tank top off you, to which of course to his not-so-very-big-suprise, revealing your bare chest. After watching you for a while, he noticed you would most of the time wear either nothing, or a tank top, maybe paired with some underwear, usually black or navy. Rare occasions, maroon.

A deep chuckle poured out his throat as his rough hands went to your breasts, cupping and kneading them like dough. It hurt, clearly because he had no intent of making you even feel anything. He just craved you like a wolf craved a little sheep. Cries of pain left your throat, trying to claw your hands at his to no avail.

Your hips and legs wouldn't budge as he sat right on them, your head hurt too much to move, your arms like noodles from the sheer anxiety and shock you felt. To this, he laughed in a false-lit pity. Pinching at your nipples, he made sure to leave you as sensitive as possible, with intent to make you cry even more.

Exult filled his icy eyes as his hands dragged themselves down your belly, massaging your sides and hips like fresh bread. It tickled, somehow—the way he moved his hands now around the waistband of your underwear.

They were a deep navy blue, however looked black in this dark room. Shakily exhaling, Jackson dipped his fingers across the line of your clothing, before quickly pulling them clean off, the fabric resting on your shaking legs.

Another shrill howl left your raspy throat, trying to wriggle your hips out of his body weight. He bellowed back quietly in mock, anger mustering his tone. Another hard, cranial slap landed on the side of your head.

“Shut the fuck up.” He berated now; amusement present.

“I’ve always dreamed of this… even nights I didn't sleep.” he cooed out, coaxing one of your hands to his crotch.

You sneered out a messy cry as he pressed your hand to his tented pants, feeling his cock practically throbbing. His breath left his lips shakily as he forced your hand to feel him. Conversely, he kept his hand tight on your hips, not covered finally.

Finally smacking your hand back, he shimmied off the pants he had on after unbuttoning them. He didn't care to pull them all the way down, why not make it a quickie—you know?

“You look like such a whore right now…” he cooed out almost an octave higher, those threatening eyes gazing daggers at you.

An idea suddenly formed in his head as he looked up to himself in the mirror across from your bed. A toothy smile like a sharks spread across his jaw. Piercing his eyes back down, he grunted, flipping you into your stomach once more.

“I want you to see your stupid fucking face while I use you.” he blazed out, sharply snapping your head up by a chunk of your hair.

Your face was a mess. Puffy red eyes, red nose and cheeeks. Entirely wet with tears and snot. Not to mention, you looked absolutely devastated, which was expected, but not this bad.

A choked wail left your throat as you heard his pants shimmy down slightly, and felt his boxers, and clothed cock resting against your pussy. In response, he cooed under his breath. His hand pressed harshly into your lower back.

“It's a shame I haven't done this sooner, you cry like a fucking animal… it's so beautiful.” He mewled out to your face in the mirror rather than looking down at you.

Tearing down his boxers finally, you could hear his cock spring free and tap lightly on his stomach. He was of course hard, more than he had ever felt in a while. hence the fact he'd get off almost nightly thinking of you. Fucking into his fist with throaty groans, imagining it was your cunt instead.

A hearty sigh left his chest as he stroked himself a few times, the precum on his tip shining in the dim moonlight which simmered through the window. He made sure he was slow with his movements, not wanting to end this too fast.

“Keep your eyes on me, slut. I want to see your face while I fuck you.” He barked out once more, straining on your hair again as he pulled you up.

You let out a few whiny sobs, knowing you couldn't get out of this situation. Your scalp burnt. Gazing your eyes up to his face, you saw nothing but lust, and focus. The worst part was you knew he could get away with it.

“Please no— no, no, no, no!” You babbled out with purpose.l

"No, no, no, don't do this!” he mocked an octave higher, looking down to his leaking cock.

“Just sit still, you'll be fine, bitch.” He scoffed.

Lining himself up to you, he spat down on his cock, stroking himself a few more times to give less friction while he fucked you. Emitting a slight grunt, he finally leaned himself into your pussy, feeling your walls and savoring every inch he dove in.

A loud wail left your mouth, you felt like you were practically being split into 2 as he finally bottomed out. His cock was big enough to press hard against your cervix, the feeling was uncomfortable. Desperately, you tried to wriggle your hips off; nevertheless, he held your hips tight.

“I said be still, dumbass.” He hissed out, landing a loud spank on your ass, surely leaving it red.

“God, you feel so—” he enunciated his words, thrusting sharply into you. “So… fucking tight.” He finished his words, chuckling in the air at the end.

Placing his other hand on your hip and holding you steady, he started a rhythmic pace, slow and drawn out. Despite the slowness, he practically pounded into you as hard as he could, savoring your small cries with each stroke.

Craning his neck back to the ceiling, he gently shut his eyes and let his jaw fall open, babbling on in pleasure. A small curse left his lips, his eyes dipping back down to your ass which shook slightly with each thrust.

“Fuck… oh my God, you feel so good. You feel—” he enunciated his words more, sharply picking up the pace, the feeling of the tip of his cock hitting the bump of your cervix was intoxicating to him.

The pain was slightly settling down as he kept thrusting into you, your body naturally making yourself wet to lessen the friction. Almost shamefully, you couldn't lie and say it didn't feel good.

If anything, it felt phenomenal. After that pain settled, the feeling of his cock driving into you so deep—deeper than you'd ever felt—was shamefully pleasureful. Despite head still throbbing with his hand tight in it, and the fact you're still a sobbing mess, you couldn't help but whine out in this twisted pleasure.

You were ashamed, but it was better than feeling any sort of pain. To the sounds of your little cries turning into whimpers of pleasure, he laughed heartily, spanking your ass once more just to watch it shake.

“See? Now that you're being obedient, I don't have to hurt you anymore, bitch.” He leaned down, tantalizingly whispering.

As he kept his head next to yours, you couldn't help hear his heavy breath and the slight mewls leaving his throat, deep and pathetic, almost. From your hips, he ran his hands down to the small of your back, pressing your arch further down .

Darting out his tongue, he licked your jaw slightly, reminicsing his gaze over your bruised bite marks that finally stopped bleeding. Landing his tongue on your jugular once more, he planted rather soft kisses. Much better than biting, anyways.

He continued to kiss around the back of your neck and the sides, the stubble tickling you. The mix of this ticklish feeling and his hips pistoning into yours finally started to postpone your crying, leaving you in a whiny state.

“God, you really are a whore, huh? Getting fucking used and you're over here whining like a little puppy.” He slammed his hand down once more, making you yell loudly.

Grazing your eyes to the mirror, the sight you saw was definitely one you'll remember, both for the horrifying reason and one of the fact this man looked utterly pathetic for you. Higher sounding breaths, head dipped to the back of your neck with kisses, and hands kneading our ass.

His eyes pierced up to the mirror, making eye contact with your still wet and puffy eyes. Smirking softly at you, he turned his head from the mirror to the side of your face. Linking his lips with your earlobe, he started speaking.

“See how slutty you look right now? You love this…” he spoke in such a tantalizing way it made you shudder.

You could barely even keep your head up, resting it on the plush mattress as you kept letting you your small moans. Each thrust was pure and plain pleasure. Shockwaves sent up your spine and fogging up your brain.

It could've been the mix of anxiety and your head hitting the wall earlier, but you could barely do anything but moan out in bliss mixed with agony. He leaned back up, flicking his hair back with a jerk of his neck.

The idea popped in his head to reach his hand down finally under your hips, keeping one on your ass to hold you steady. Delicately, he rubbed slow, intricate circles with his index on your clit. Back arching further down with pleasure, you let out an almost pornographic moan.

“Oh, you like that…” he cooed rhetorically, cocking his head to the side as he observed your reaction almost clinically.

His hands moved almost masterfully on your clit, the nerves sending an overwhelming pleasure over your entire body. Your legs shook diabolically, toes curling. Trying your best to stifle how good it felt, you bit down harshly on your lip, feeling your lower stomach arise with a familiar feeling of pleasure.

A sudden, quiet moan left the bottom of his throat, an octave higher than any of the words he'd spoken to you. He even sounded hot, and it tormented you. You could tell he was close to cumming by the way his hips stuttered slightly, how vocal he was getting.

“Fuck… I didn't expect you to feel so— so good." he whined out, dipping down his head, holding your ass tight as he probably could've. It hurt, but not as bad as being bitten or slapped.

He quickly leaned his head back to the ceiling, mouth agape with small whines leaving his throat. With his hand still on your clit, you could actually feel yourself getting closer. The way he looked in the dark in that mirror was somewhat driving you crazy. Yet, you dared not look at yourself, feeling a shame that you think will never be cured.

“Oh— God… fuck, fuck, fuck,” he babbled out incoherently, suddenly burying his hips into you as deep as he could've gotten, dipping his torso down to bite harshly on your shoulder.

Somehow that was the tipping point for you, feeling that bite and his warm spurts of cum burst into you, foreign and good. Feeling your brain go numb and your mouth agape, your legs trembled heavily.

With that, a loud and drawn out whine left your puffy lips, your hands gripping the duvet sheets as tight as they could. He stood still besides the feeling of his cock still twitching inside of you.

His chest heaved heavily, pressing against your back tight as he popped his hips into you a few more times, just to fuck his cum into you. Leaning back up with a shaky groan, he examined the damage he did to you.

Bruised ass and hips, bites all over your shoulder and neck, slight blood, your crying face in the mirror, and despite all that: he made you cum. He was actually rather proud of himself for that, even though he swore he would just kill you after.

Biting his lip and pulling his cock out of you, stuffing himself inside his boxers once more, he began to speak.

“You're pathetic.” He hissed.

Buttoning his pants back up, he tore himself off that bed, leaving you alone in it. Picking up that sweater from off the floor and the knife he had stuffed in it, he examined you once more. He darted his eyes from the shiny knife to your body, shaky and limp, yet still crying.

“Can't even move now, huh? I dumbed you down real good…” he stepped over you, dragging the knife up and down your spine, watching the goosebumps it gave you.

“Too bad I can't kill you. Your cunt feels to good.” He whispered to your ear.

With that, he stuffed the knife back in his pocket and swung your bedroom door open. He would of course rather just leave through the front door. Turning back to your body, he chuckled.

“I’d prefer you leave your front door unlocked rather than your window.”

another a/n: i deeply apologize for how nasty this is! enjoy and take dark smut crumbs, my fellow jackson rippner lovers.

[soleilceirinen]

Scaredy Cat | modern!Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

Summary: your boyfriend and your cat don't get along, they hate each other. When you have to travel for work and there is no one else to take care of your cat except for Tommy, you can't help but worry. What will you find when you return?

Warning: mentions of past animal abuse (not anymore), the cat gets sick, Tommy swears as usual, etc. If some of this might trigger you, don't read. There are mentions of smut but no real smut.

A/N: English isn't my first language, sorry if there are mistakes!

Peaky Blinders Masterlist - Cillian Murphy Masterlist

Tommy was very good with horses. Sometimes, just to tease him, you liked to call him 'Horse Whisperer Tommy'. He didn't find it funny at all. The truth is that he didn't get along so well with cats. 

At least, this man was incapable of getting along with yours. And it was funny because most of the time he reminded you of an angry cat himself, the rest of the time too, being honest. Sometimes, when you were on the couch watching a movie with Tommy lying on your chest and you scratched the back of his head right where his hair was shorter, you would swear you could hear him purring, melting under your touch. 

Your cat liked to make things difficult. The first time Tommy stayed over at your house, the cat took the space on the bed between the two of you, making it clear which was her territory and that you were hers. Every time he tried to get closer to you he was met with an outstretched paw that pushed him to the opposite side of the bed. You thought it was funny, he not so much. When you woke up you found Tommy's suit jacket full of orange hairs, crumpled on the floor. To this day the jacket still had traces of cat hair.

Moreover, how could you forget the day when Tommy was working on his laptop from your house and the cat bit the corner of the screen? Needless to say, Tommy couldn't continue working on whatever he was doing, which pissed him off so much, because the device stopped working. Your cat spent the rest of the day with a satisfied expression on her round face.

The rest of the time, the poor creature just hissed at Tommy every time she saw him. Eventually, she ended up accepting that neither of them were going to disappear from your life. At least you hoped it wouldn't happen in a long time. 

From the bedroom you heard your boyfriend talking, his deep voice too low to understand his words. You assumed that he would be talking on the phone, always busy with work, even in his sleep he kept mumbling meaningless phrases. 

You headed to the kitchen, after a long day at work you couldn't wait any longer to have dinner. Your cat appeared out of nowhere and began to walk between your legs, creating infinity shapes and wrapping her long tail around your calf. You bent down to scratch her belly when she leaned on the floor in the middle of the kitchen.

"You're so cute," you said in a childish voice, earning a sideways glance from Thomas, full of resentment.

"Cute my balls," he spat.

The cat looked at you with her eyes wide open, as if she were asking you ‘did you hear what he said?’ You jumped to your feet and put your hands on your hips, looking at Tommy with a raised eyebrow. "May I know what's the matter with you?" 

“Your cat, Y/N,” he muttered, turning to you with his hand in front of his face. On the back of it was a deep cut, no, it was a scratch. "Look what the evil’s spawn has done to me."

You glanced at the cat one last time, she looked back at you and licked her paw innocently. Letting out a sigh, you took Tommy's hand in yours to inspect the wound.

"What have you done to make her do this?" you asked cautiously.

He responded with a huff. "Nothing. She came out of nowhere and jumped at me with her claws out."

You nodded in silence and began to disinfect his hand. Your cat was like that, she didn't like men. Actually, she only liked you. Sometimes you wondered if her bad attitude was due to her previous owners, who didn't treat her very well. The thought of someone mistreating your cat filled you with sadness as well as anger. Fucking bastards.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, to him and to her, a tinge of sadness in your voice which didn't go unnoticed to Tommy.

When you finished covering his scratch with a bandaid, Tommy grabbed you hand in his and gave it a loving squeeze before continuing placing the food on the dinner table. 

-

You had always liked animals, when you were little you weren’t allowed to have pets because your brother was allergic to them. So, the moment you got a job in the city and moved out on your own, the first thing you did was go to the nearest shelter to adopt a kitten.

That was the initial idea, to bring a small cat home and raise it. However, when you saw the sad eyes of the orange cat watching you from inside her cubicle, you had the feeling that you were predestined to end up together. She was already an adult cat at that time but that didn't matter to you.

At the shelter they briefly told you that her former owners, whoever they were, had mistreated her and left her abandoned, half dead in a garbage can. A homeless man searching through the trash found her and took her there, where she was taken care of until she luckily recovered. You couldn't be more grateful to that stranger who cared enough to rescue her. Unfortunately, two years had passed since then and no one had wanted to adopt her. 

She instantly won your heart. You took her home and named her Cat, like Holly Golightly's cat in Breakfast at Tiffany's. Plus, both of them looked alike. Of course, Tommy complained that it was a ridiculous name for a cat, similar as if he called one of his horses Horse.

-

A couple of weeks after the scratching incident with Tommy, you were notified that you had to travel to another city for a week on behalf of the company you worked for, which was great because it gave you the opportunity to explore new places. The disadvantage was that your cat was old and had to take a pill every day, for life. You didn't trust anyone to leave them in charge of such a task, but not going on the company trip would mean losing the opportunity to receive a promotion in the coming months. You didn't know what to do but you had an idea.

That night Tommy was going to visit you, so you would make him a suggestion.

After having dinner, Tommy and you started kissing passionately. Everything with him was very intense. His warm, calloused hands ran along your sides under your shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps over your soft skin. Your fingertips scratched the shaved sides of his hair and he let out a moan, pressing his lips harder against yours, never breaking the contact. 

You were starting to feel his bulge growing against your crotch, so you moved your hips against him, enjoying the friction. Now you were the one who let out a moan of pleasure.

“Fuck,” he murmured, burying his face in your neck as he panted. "Can't you make her leave, or at least make her stop staring at me like that?"

You looked at him slightly confused, following his gaze to the cardboard box where Cat was lying with her head resting on the edge of it, watching you without blinking. It didn't matter how many beds you bought her, none could beat the cardboard box. Rolling your eyes, you placed a hand on your boyfriend's face and caressed his sharp cheekbone, trying to get him to focus on you again.

"Just ignore her. Look at me," you said softly, kissing his jaw.

Tommy pulled away from you and sat on the sofa, running a hand over his face. "I can't, love. She's looking at me, killing my mood." He shrugged, looking sick.

You sighed, mentally saying goodbye to any possibility of Tommy fucking the hell out of you. "How bold she is, daring to look down on the great Thomas Michael Shelby."

He gave you a wide eyed look before frowning. "Are you making fun of me? Hey, where do you think you're going? Taking the beast to another room?"

"I'm going to get some water."

Once in the kitchen you took a couple of deep breaths, gathering the courage to talk to him. It was your opportunity to convince him to stay with Cat. You returned to the living room and sat next to him, crossing your legs on the sofa.

"Tommy, do you remember my work trip?"

He looked at you with a blank face for a few seconds until a spark of knowledge shone at the back of his eyes. "Yes, you're going away for a week. Is that right?"

You nodded, biting your lip. "Can I ask you a favor?"

His expression changed to one of suspicion. Usually you didn't ask for things, you didn't hesitate, so he knew you were about to ask him to do something he wouldn't like.

"It depends".

"You have to come in the morning to feed Cat, but not too much because she eats it all and gets sick," Tommy opened his mouth to complain but you were faster, placing the palm of your hand over his lips before continuing. "At night you come back and give her the pill with a bit of soft food, you have to pay attention and make sure she has swallowed it, okay? Also,  change her water, because when she has it for more than a day she won’t drink it."

He gave you a small kiss on the palm of your hand. You removed it and looked at him through your lashes, expectantly.

"Anything else?" he asked, feigning boredom. You smiled. It had been very easy, you hadn't even had to convince him.

"Yes! You have to clean up her cat litter."

-

The day of your trip, you left everything ready so that when he arrived at night, Tommy would find things easily. 

He opened your apartment door and stuck his head in doubtfully, there was no sign of the furry little beast. He was having flashbacks to the last time he stayed over, when Cat started running around the house making weird noises as if she was possessed by Satan himself. Tommy still felt chills remembering how the cat jumped into the bedroom moving sideways with her tail twisted while she howled. You couldn’t stop laughing, used to see your cat doing that almost every day, but Tommy kept saying that he witnessed a demonic possession that night.

But at that moment there were no howls or strange noises. In fact, everything was quiet. One of those silences that he had experienced so many times in his life before. The kind of silence that does not bode well. Tommy squared his shoulders, he wasn't going to get carried away by his superstitious ideas. It was just a cat. He would come in, give her the pill and some water, and then he would leave. Fast and clean. 

As he approached the corner where the hallway turned to the left at a ninety-degree angle he stopped. Your cat liked to hide there before jumping like a lion hunting for its prey on Tommy's legs. He still had the scar from the last bite, he didn't want to take another one.

This time he was prepared. With a quick movement he stood on the next section of the hallway. But there was nothing. Frowning and feeling a bit ridiculous, Tommy walked through the house looking for the little beast until he found her lying on the sofa.

The cat was curled up in a ball, her head resting on the armrest. Only her green eyes moved following Tommy's movements as he approached her. She seemed kind of off and Tommy couldn't help but feel a tinge of empathy.

“Do you miss Y/N too?” he asked out loud. The cat blinked weakly. "This place feels weird without her around, huh?" 

Tommy didn't know what to expect, some kind of reaction or something. The cat remained still, staring at the wall. He gave her one last glance, shrugging and heading to the kitchen. You had placed a note on the refrigerator door with more instructions, attached with a magnet in a miniature version of the Eiffel Tower that Tommy brought you from Paris. 

He ran his fingertips over your handwriting, thinking. He was going to take you to France the next time you had holidays. The rest of the refrigerator was covered with polaroids of you smiling at the camera, the two of you together, you with your friends and family... and the cat.

'Ah yes, the cat.' Tommy remembered, turning around.

The food and water bowls were full, as if she hadn't touched them all day. That was strange, the feeling of something not going right increased. Grabbing a clean bowl, Tommy put some soft food in it and inserted the pill, completely camouflaged, before placing it on the floor in front of the sofa. 

"Eat," he indicated authoritatively. 

He was a man used to being obeyed in everything, everyone did except you. You were the only one who could handle him like a rag doll and he wouldn’t complain. There was no doubt that this cat was yours, she didn't even look at the food.

Tommy grunted, losing his patience. He grabbed the bowl with one hand and the cat with the other, pushing them together as much as he could. The animal did not resist, after a few minutes a third of the food was gone, including the pill, but she refused to swallow more. "As you wish," he murmured, leaving the remains of food next to the other bowls.

When he looked into the small laundry room where you had the cat's litter box, his heart skipped a beat. Everything was a mess, the floor was full of poop and vomit.

"Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath. Then he returned to the living room, ready to give the cat the reprimand of her life but stopped short. He hadn't noticed before but there were also traces of vomit on the living room floor. "Shit."

Just then his phone started ringing. Your name appeared on the screen. He cleared his throat and answered.

"Hello Tommy" your voice sounded happy although somewhat tired. "How are you doing, honey?"

"Good. I gave the pill to the beast, don't worry. Are you okay?" He spoke as fast as he could, trying to move the conversation away from the cat. 

"Yeah, it's a little boring you know, all day in meetings and now they want to go to have dinner but I don't feel like going. I haven't been able to call you all day, as you can see  I haven't stopped.” You let out a small laugh. ”Hey Tommy, thanks for taking care of Cat. It means a lot to me. I have to go, they came to pick me up. I love you!"

You hung up the call before he could say anything back. Leaving the phone on the coffee table, he walked into the balcony, feeling the cold wind against his skin.

Tommy leaned on the balustrade as he lit a cigarette, smoking slowly. You didn’t like him smoking inside the house, or smoking in general, but that was his problem and you couldn’t change it. This way the balcony became his territory. Once he finished, he went back inside, closing the door behind him. The last thing he needed was the cat jumping out the window. 

He started cleaning everything the best he could while debating whether to call you again and tell you everything, that something was wrong with your cat, or try to fix it on his own. Yes, he would do that better. Tommy was a man of resources, he wasn't going to ruin your trip and worry you if he could take care of it.

After making sure everything was clean and the cat had food and water, he left your house, relieved that he wouldn't have to spend another second alone with that animal. 

-

When he returned the next day and found both the food and water intact, he headed to the living room, where Cat was still lying in the same position as the day before. He felt his soul leaving his body. 

Tommy swallowed and sat on the couch next to the cat. He approached his hand slowly to touch her soft fur, expecting the cat to hiss like she always did when he got too close to her. That would mean everything was fine. But that didn’t happen, the feline's only reaction was shuddering and letting out a pitiful whimper so soft that if he hadn't been sitting next to her, Tommy wouldn't have heard it.

Shit, shit, shit. He covered his mouth with his hand, his brain working at maximum power. He had to do something. Being aware of how important that cat was to you, if something bad happened to her... he didn't even want to imagine your reaction. 

Without wasting another second, he dialed May Carleton’s number, the veterinarian who sometimes treated his horses. After explaining the situation, she told him to bring Cat into the clinic to take a look at her. Tommy picked up the cat in his arms, wrapped in a blanket, and held her to his chest like one does when cradling a baby. The poor thing let him do it, too weak to complain.

The drive from your house to the clinic was frantic, Tommy drove like a madman and once there he skipped the line in the waiting room, entering directly and leaving the bundle on the metal table. "Thomas, you can't sneak in like this," said May while putting on a pair of clean latex gloves.

"It's an emergency," he said, pointing to the metal table.

The vet's expression changed from annoyance to concern the moment she laid her eyes on the poor creature. "Okay, Thomas. I'll take over from here, why don't you wait outside?"

It turned out that she had eaten some plant that's poisonous to cats. This had caused her intestine and some other organs to inflame, or something like that. At least they had discovered it in time to help her.

The first thing Tommy did when he got back to your apartment was throwing away all the plants. The second thing was not taking his blue eyes off from Cat for a minute during the next three days.

-

At the end of the week you couldn’t wait any longer to go back home. You called Tommy several times but he didn't pick up the phone. Every time you had talked to him in the past few days he always told you that everything was going great. You had a hard time believing it. In about twenty minutes you’ll be home and you could finally hug your baby Cat and take a shower, in that order.

You stopped at the entrance of your home, leaving the suitcase and your shoes next to Tommy’s. He's here after all, you thought. The lights were off, all of them except for the one in the living room. You walked towards there and what you saw made your heart fill with love. 

Tommy was on the sofa, fast asleep. Curled against his side was Cat, sleeping too. She was holding Tommy’s hand between her paws. You covered your mouth with your hand, hiding your smile. They were too adorable. Never had you thought the day in which the two of them could get along would come. Seeing them sleeping together seemed like a dream. 

You took your phone and started taking pictures of them. The next week you would print one to put it on your fridge door, a new moment to remember.

[queenshelby]

ONE SHOT: THE CASTING COUCH

PART ONE OF THE DARK & SEXY SERIES

NOTE: This is a series of one shots and mini series for Cillian Murphy & Tommy Shelby in which he acts totally off-canon. Most of these shots are very dark in nature and you should read their individual warnings. All of these shots are requests from readers. Co-written with @darkshelbyfiction

PAIRING: CILLIAN MURPHY X VIRGIN READER

WARNING: DUB-CON, BLACKMAIL, LOSS OF VIRGINITY

"Thank you for coming over Cillian, and for helping me out with my rehearsals," you said after opening the door for him. You hesitated, your eyes glancing at the untidy mess strewn around, hoping he wouldn't notice how disorganized you were. You were still young and inexperienced when it came to acting and life in general and had recently finished filming your first movie under Cillian's guidance.

"No problem, Y/N," Cillian replied smoothly, stepping inside your apartment with a confident swagger. "I was looking forward to it," he told you and you nodded silently, forcing out a smile.

"Great! Well, let me just clear up a bit of space here," you murmured, quickly moving clutter off your couch and onto the floor.

You noticed that Cillian took note of this odd behavior, raising an eyebrow curiously. His gaze lingered on your body, taking in every curve and line.

"You know you've got a lot of competition to get this role," he stated matter-of-factly. It sounded like advice rather than a threat, but there was something strange about his tone.

"I know," you mumbled back, shifting uncomfortably on your feet. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes, Cillian," you told him and he smiled, the corners of his lips quirking upwards slightly. 

"Whatever it takes, huh?" Cillian mused thoughtfully, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. His touch was gentle, almost tender, and you could feel your skin tingle beneath his fingers.

"Yeah, I really want this part," you admitted quietly, meeting his gaze directly with your big eyes. There was something magnetic and yet uneasy about his presence, drawing you in despite your better judgment.

"Well, I can help you with that," Cillian offered with a knowing grin. "But I need something in return," he added, his voice dropping low to a husky whisper.

You swallowed hard, feeling a wave of trepidation wash over you. "What do you mean by that?" you asked innocently, squirming under his steady gaze. 

"Come on Y/N, you are a smart girl, aren't you?" Cillian asked with a playful smirk. "I am sure you know what I want," he continued, running his fingers through your soft hair.

Your heart raced in your chest as you struggled to find the right words. "Look, Cillian, I appreciate you giving me this opportunity, but I don't think I can go there," you finally managed to say.

His eyes narrowed slightly, assessing your resolve. "You know that roles like these don't come along often, especially when you're starting out in this business," he explained coolly. "It's all about connections. And trust me," Cillian said, his voice dropping even lower—a soft purr against your ear, "I have plenty of those." 

"I will touch you, down there, if you like, but I won't sleep with you. I never had sex before, so..." You hesitated, unsure how to express yourself. Your voice trembled as you tried to maintain composure. "I mean, I am not ready and..." you suggested cautiously.

Cillian's gaze intensified, locking onto yours as he interrupted you mid-sentence. 

"Y/N, I want to fuck you properly," Cillian explained calmly, watching your reaction carefully. "You either take it or leave it," he whispered softly, leaning closer. "But if you want to have this role, then you'll have to make some sacrifices."

The air between you felt thick and heavy, charged with an electric tension neither of you dared to confront. Cillian was older, far more experienced in both acting and life, but there was something that made you feel uneasy about his request, despite your attraction towards him.

"But I have never done anything like this before," you insisted feebly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not ready," you pleaded, clinging onto hope that he would relent.

"I didn't ask if you were ready," Cillian retorted sharply, his eyes flashing dangerously. "I asked if you wanted the role," he reminded you coldly, crossing his arms defensively.

"Yes, I do," you agreed hurriedly, eager to appease him.

"Good, then we understand each other," Cillian said confidently, stepping closer. "Now I will try to make this as comfortable for you as I possible can," he promised, his voice low and soothing. "Take off your clothes," he then commanded abruptly, staring intently at you.

You hesitated, biting your lip nervously. The silence hung heavily between you two, making your palms sweat. But the prospect of achieving your dream outweighed any doubts or fears you may have had. So without further hesitation, you began undressing, shedding layer after layer until only your panties remained.

Cillian watched your transformation with rapt attention, his gaze lingering on your exposed flesh. His eyes gleamed with lustful desire, sending shivers down your spine.

You stood naked before him, completely vulnerable, as he appraised your curves and lines.

"Such a beautiful young woman," he muttered, admiring your form. "You're perfect for this role and many others, if you play your cards right."

He stepped closer, reaching out to trace a finger along your collarbone. You flinched slightly, bracing yourself for what was to come.

"Relax, darling," he cooed, his voice deepening. "I will be gentle with you."

He placed a strong hand on your shoulder, guiding you gently backwards until you reached the edge of your study desk, the wood now pressing into your lower back. 

You felt nervous, his proximity threatening to overwhelm you.

"Just relax, Y/N," he reassured you, his voice a soothing balm to your anxious nerves. "We're going to take things slow, okay?" He reached down and scooped you up in his arms, placing you delicately upon the desk. Your knees wobbled with uncertainty, but you forced yourself to stay upright.

Cillian stepped away, leaving you in nothing but your panties. His eyes trailed over your entire body, scrutinizing your vulnerability.

"Sit up straight," he instructed firmly, reaching out to adjust your posture. You complied obediently, clutching the tabletop tightly.

"Don't worry," he consoled you, his voice calm and collected. "This will hurt a little, but everything will be fine." You looked doubtful, swallowing a lump in your throat. But you knew you couldn't turn back now.

As he moved closer, you saw his eyes sparkle mischievously. "Lets take a look at this little virgin hole of yours, shall we?" Cillian murmured, trailing a finger along your inner thigh. You instinctively jerked away, causing him to chuckle.

"No need to be shy, love," he teased, reaching out again to stroke your knee. You didn't respond, instead opting to close your eyes, focusing on breathing deeply.

"Alright, alright," Cillian sighed, removing his hand. "Why don't you lay back for me, baby?" Cillian says, his voice thick with seduction. 

You gulp, your palms sweating profusely now. The anticipation builds within you, and fear mixed with excitement dances across your veins. Despite the situation, you can't deny the urge to surrender to Cillian's will. To submit completely to his desires. After all, you remind yourself, this is your ticket to stardom.

"Are you sure about this?" Cillian asks, concern etching his features. "You know I would never force you, Y/N."

"I know," you reply weakly, mustering a thin smile. "It's just that I-- I've never, uh, I am nervous," you murmured. 

"I know," Cillian murmurs, reaching out to cup your cheek before running his fingers over your stomach, stopping again at the hem of your cotton panties. 

Hooking his fingers into the hem, Cillian pulled them downwards, exposing your most intimate area to his hungry gaze.

A groan escaped him as he stared hungrily at your swollen pussy, nestled between smooth thighs. "So fucking gorgeous," he breathed reverently, reaching out to trace your slit delicately.

"And so small," he chuckled, his fingertip circling your entrance. "But don't worry, I will manage to work my cock into you, baby," he assured you, his tone laced with confidence. Your breath hitched, the anticipation mounting within you. "You see, I've been waiting for this moment ever since I laid eyes on you," he confessed, stroking your cheek lovingly. Your heart pounded in your chest, the thrill of being desired by such an experienced man overwhelming you. "In fact, I've fantasized about you countless times," he whispered, leaning in closer.

"My cock is already throbbing with anticipation, imagining your tight pussy wrapped around it." He ran a finger down your belly, tracing the path it would soon follow. 

Cillian then reached for the pocket of his jeans to retrieve a condom, which he placed onto the desk beside you before unbuckling his belt.

He then slid his pants down, revealing an impressive erection, rock-hard and ready for action. 

Leaking pre-cum, it stood tall and proud, a testament to his arousal. You couldn't help but stare at it, mesmerized and concerned all at the same time. 

"I don't know..." you started to stammer, but Cillian put a finger against your lips.

"Shh," he hushed. "It will only hurt for a moment. I promise," he told you as he picked up the condom and opened the wrapper.

As he rolled it onto his throbbing member, you couldn't help but glance at that massive erection standing erect, a symbol of raw masculinity. It seemed almost intimidating and you closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of this situation. You knew what was expected of you, but somehow the reality of submitting to Cillian scared you.

"Open your legs for me, sweetheart," Cillian said softly, interrupting your thoughts. He reached out to pull you open, spreading your bare thighs apart to reveal your moistened folds. You whimpered, arching your back involuntarily as he touched you. 

"You've got a tight little hole, haven't you?" he commented casually, brushing aside your tears with callous indifference. "It's good though—it means you're going to feel every inch of me," he added.

"Just relax, Y/N," he urged you once more, positioning himself between your legs. You shut your eyes some more, concentrating on slowing your racing heartbeat when you felt the head of his cock press against your wetness.

"I'm going to enter you now, baby," he murmured before slowly pushing the tip of his cock inside you. You gasped loudly, squeezing your eyes shut as the burning sensation spread throughout your body.

"Ssh, it's alright. Just let me in," Cillian murmured. You let out a yelp as he pushed harder, your eyes widening in shock as he stretched you. 

"You're doing great," Cillian encouraged you, easing the head of his cock deeper into you while looking down in between your bodies, enjoying the sight of his cock slowly opening you up.

"The head is in," he whispered triumphantly, watching the initial resistance crumble before the persistent pressure of his manhood. "Now, I'm about to stretch you out some more," he warned, the anticipation building with every word.

You writhed helplessly on the desk, your eyes squeezed shut, your grip tightening on the wooden surface beneath you.

"Just breathe," Cillian comforted you, his fingers caressing your cheek. "It's going to burn for a second, but it'll pass," he promised, his tone soothing.

You took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of his shaft sliding inside you as he inched forward. Each thrust drove deeper, stretching you wider. The pain was intense, but you bit your lip to hold back your groans. 

"That's it, baby," he praised. "You're doing great. Just a few more inches and I'll be fully inside you," he told you, his eyes locked on yours. "Can you feel it? My cock stretching you wider with each push," he whispered, his voice sending chills down your spine. "That's right, baby," he encouraged you, watching as the muscles of your vagina contracted around his shaft. "Just a little more," he growled, his movements becoming more forceful.

His cock felt huge inside you, filling you up entirely as he took your innocence, the head of his cock hitting your cervix with each thrust.

"You feel so good," he moaned, his cock twitching in response to your tightness. "I could cum right now," he groaned, grinding his hips against yours before pulling out abruptly. "But I want to enjoy this for a little longer. Turn around," Cillian demanded, reaching out to spin you around on the desk.

"I want to fuck you from behind," he said before thrusting his length back into you. "Spread your legs wider," he ordered, and you did as he asked, your cheeks reddening from embarrassment as he increased his pace. 

Cillian's cock throbbed inside you, filling you up completely. He withdrew a little, teasing you with shallow thrusts. "Mmm," he moaned approvingly, running his hands up and down your body. "You're so hot like this," he whispered, pulling on your nipples roughly while watching his cock plunge in and out of your swollen pussy. "I can tell you're getting used to me," he observed, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer, impaling you on his erection. "Getting tighter, too," he noted, grinning wickedly. "It's like you're trying to squeeze me," he joked, bucking his hips wildly until he was balls-deep inside you.

"Fuck!" he shouted, his cock throbbing painfully. "I might cum too quick," he muttered, grabbing your waist tightly.

"I've been thinking about this for so long," he confessed, his breath hot and heavy in your ear.

"Such a good girl," he rasped, thrusting deeper into you. "Tighter than I imagined," he groaned, digging his fingers into your hips. "I bet you're going to be a real star one day," he praised, slamming into you harder. "This isn't going to be easy, Y/N," he warned, his voice strained. "But I've got faith in you," he said, punctuating each word with a brutal thrust before pulling out abruptly and ordering you onto your knees. 

"You are going to swallow my load now, baby," he barked, your ears ringing with the harsh command. "If you want to become a star, that is," he added ominously, pulling off the condom and then holding his cock firmly in his fist while he guided it toward your mouth.

"Oh no, please," you begged, shaking your head in protest.

"Open up," Cillian ordered sternly, guiding your jaw wide while aiming his cock at your mouth. He then shoved his cock into your mouth, gagging you instantly.

"Good girl," he said gruffly, his fingers gripping your chin tightly. You whimpered, unable to speak as he fucked your mouth mercilessly.

"I am going to pour my seed right down your throat now," he ordered, his voice muffled by your gag reflex as he started to groan loudly. "Here it comes," he announced, his cock swelling and pulsing with pleasure as he released his load directly into your mouth.

You gagged inadvertently, your eyes watering from the sudden influx of semen as you swallowed his essence and, going by the sounds he made, he was clearly pleased by your efforts.

"That's good. Drink my seed," he grunted, withdrawing his cock from your mouth. "Swallow it all down," he ordered, watching you struggle to catch your breath.

"Fucking fantastic," he then complimented, patting your head affectionately. "There's a good girl," he cooed, handing you a wad of tissues to clean off before pulling up his pants. 

"Now, we start shooting next week," he informed you, checking his watch. "You did well, but I really got to run," he grinned, kissing your forehead lightly. "I'll text you our schedule tomorrow," he confirmed before saying his farewell. 

[darlingsfandom]

Could you write about a hardcore dirty Cillian Murphy dr crane non con smut?

TW: CNC!, swearing , nipple sucking, p in v unprotected , cream pie, semi stalking.

You sighed softly as you pulled the blanket over your lower half, fluffed the pillow and switched through the tv channels until you found something that caught your attention. An episode passed by before you found yourself falling asleep.

The wind blew in from your cracked window. No matter how often he told you to keep it closed, you never listened. You had been with Jonathan for over a year and you’ve had your ups and downs and now was one of the down moments. The two of you had got into it about having dinner with your friends that he couldn’t stand. He told you that they were no good for you, but you don’t listen to him about it because he himself has no friends. Now you were sleeping alone in your house while he was either at work again or in his own home, you didn’t care! You were mad that he never wanted to do what you wanted.

You found yourself stirring a little in your sleep. It was a mix from the breeze, your emotions and the fact you had to pee. After debating for a minute you got up to use the bathroom and by the time you got back something felt weird. You shook off the feeling and got back into bed. Your eyes instantly closed and your soft snores filled the room along with the tv softly speaking which was comforting to his ears as he watched you from your closet.

Jonathan had snuck into yourself very carefully. He knew your routine , you’re a creature of habit which he enjoyed for this very reason and the fact it was easy to track you like a lost puppy. You were his little lost puppy. He watched as you turned on your side. You looked like a mess but so peaceful. Your tit was hanging out of your tank top, which had hardened since the cool air kept blowing in, your hair was sticking to the side of your face and your mouth was slightly parted. He lingered for an hour watching how you turned , how you snored, how a tiny moan caught his attention.

The sound of your moan perked his ears. Your nose was scrunching as your legs moved in a way he found interesting. Jonathan moved slowly towards you as you stirred. He moved until he was at the edge of your bed and licked his lips. His hands stroked the side of your head softly making you purr. He stood over you inhaling your scent slowly until you started to slowly wake up from your dream.

Your eyes slowly opened and it was still dark but you could tell that someone was standing there in your sleepy state. The scream you let out was quickly covered as he slapped his hand over your mouth while he climbed over top of you.

“Keep that pretty little mouth shut.” He whispered into your ear while you squirmed beneath him. Jonathan grabbed the bottom of your shirt and hiked it up and took it off. He kept his hand over your mouth as he lowered his head to suck on your nipples slowly. He always loved sucking on your perky nipples made him feel a certain way. You whined against his hand as you laid there like a good girl. He switched from one nipple to the other looking up at you to see your pleading eyes. Jonathan slowly pulled on your nipples with his teeth making you scream against his hand. He looked at you with that certain look that made your thighs clench.

You watched as he stood up and grabbed your hips to peel off your shorts. Part of you wanted to kick him but you knew better than to disobey him. Johnathan undid his own pants slowly as you laid like you were glued to the bed. Slowly he climbed back on top of you.

“Be my good girl and just take it.” He rubbed the head of his cock against your folds. “You’re always such a good girl. You’re such a simple creature, never wears panties to sleep, always in a tight little top, so easy to take advantage of you.” You were clenching around nothing. It was wrong that his words and actions turned you on this much! It was disgusting yet you loved it. He held your thighs open as he pushed the head of his cock into your tight hole making him moan in the way you liked.

“Fuck! You have such a nice pussy sweetheart.” You whined loudly as Jonathan pushed all the way in. He held onto your hips pinning you down . You laid there taking it as he slowly thrusted his hips in and out of you watching how you sucked him in each time. You went to grab his arms but he moved his hands and gripped your wrist to pin them above your head. Jonathan leaned down and kissed you hard making you moan against his lips while he picked up his pace and started pounding into you like his life depended on it.

You laid there taking the pounding. You were his little doll, a fuck toy that took every inch of him while he moaned above you about how sweet you are, how your pussy was made for him and you loved every second of it. Jonathan was squeezing your wrist hard and his thrusts got sloppy. Before you could say anything, he was whining out his high as he pumped you full of cum!

“No no! Pull out! I’m not on the pill! You tried to scratch at his hands but it was too late!

Jonathan smirked to himself as he pulled out and tapped the head of his cock against your tummy before standing up, turning on the lamp on your bedside table and grabbed some tissues.

“I will say darling, that was a very good idea you had.” He gave you a kiss on the head as you laid there with a smile. Sure, no normal person would find this normal but CNC was something you two wanted to try for a while and it was worth it.

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Lavish Love

Cillian Murphy x F! Spoiled Reader

Summary: Cillian plans the perfect anniversary, and then some.

Wordcount: 14.1k

Warnings:

Straight up smut with a plot, it’s really lovey dovey smut, until he calls you a bitch..once tho, switch! Cillian, slightly perverted Cillian if you squint, possessive Cillian if you squint, breeding kink like it’s said, unsafe sex, f! overstimulating, f! oral receiving, fingering, kissing, semi cock-warming, p in v, soft/dirty talk, aftercare.

!!Semi-Proofread!!

Cillian stands in the kitchen wearing nothing but his boxer briefs, a simple, black pair that clings to his lean form, accentuating the muscles of his thighs and the taut lines of his abdomen.

The early morning light filters through the sheer curtains, casting a gentle glow on his pale skin, highlighting the faint smattering of freckles that dot his shoulders. His dark hair is tousled from sleep, falling in soft waves across his forehead, framing his sharp features and intense blue eyes. The kitchen is a study in modern minimalism, all sleek lines and stainless steel, but the warmth of the wooden cabinets and the earthy tones of the décor add a comforting touch.

He stands by the counter, one hand resting casually on the cool marble surface while the other deftly operates the espresso machine. The hum of the machine and the scent of freshly ground coffee beans fill the air, mingling with the faint aroma of the lavender-scented candle she lit the night before. His gaze is fixed on his phone, the screen casting a soft glow on his face as his eyes flit across the text of a message. His brows furrow slightly, a sign of deep concentration or perhaps a hint of frustration. The coffee machine sputters and hisses, and he absently reaches for the steaming cup, his long fingers wrapping around the handle.

The muscles in his forearm ripple as he lifts the cup to his lips, taking a cautious sip. He winces slightly at the heat, then blows gently across the surface, sending tiny ripples through the dark liquid. His phone buzzes with a new notification, and he glances down, his expression softening as he reads the message. It’s a reminder he set over a year ago…his anniversary. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he shakes his head slightly, a lock of hair falling into his eyes. He brushes it away with an absent-minded gesture, his attention still on the screen.

The stillness of the morning was punctuated by a faint creak, the familiar sound of their bed giving way as it always did when someone rose from it. Cillian's ears perked up, and he turned his head slightly, listening intently. The sound of the bedroom door opening slowly followed, a gentle creak that spoke of age and use. His heart quickened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He knew it was her. Her footsteps, soft and deliberate, echoed faintly through the house, a rhythm he had come to know and love. Each step seemed to carry a promise, a whisper of their shared moments. Cillian's gaze shifted from the window to the kitchen doorway, anticipation building within him. The seconds stretched, each one laden with the expectation of her arrival.

As she appeared in the open style of the kitchen, their eyes met, and the world seemed to pause. Her presence filled the room, a warmth that rivaled the morning sun. She was wrapped in one of his shirts, her hair a tousled cascade that framed her face. There was a softness in her eyes, a sleepy affection that mirrored his own.

"Good mornin', love," Cillian murmured, his voice a low, husky drawl that carried the unmistakable lilt of his Irish accent. The words were like a caress, gentle and intimate, as he took a slow sip of his coffee.

She smiled, the kind of smile that made his heart skip a beat. It was a smile that spoke of shared secrets and unspoken promises, a smile that was for him and him alone. She padded across the kitchen, her bare feet making little noise on the cool tiles. Cillian watched her every move, his gaze unwavering, drinking in the sight of her. As she drew closer, he set his coffee cup down on the counter and opened his arms. She stepped into his embrace, her body fitting perfectly against his. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, feeling the warmth of her skin against his. For a moment, they simply stood there, wrapped in each other, the world outside forgotten.

"I love you," she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest. Her words were a balm to his soul, a reminder of the depth of their connection.

"I love ye too," he replied, his brogue thick with emotion. He tilted her chin up with gentle fingers, his thumb brushing lightly across her cheek. "Yer a sight fer sore eyes, ye know that?"

She laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. "And you're a sight for mine," she teased, her eyes sparkling with affection. "Standing here in your boxers, looking all broody and handsome."

Cillian held her tight in his arms, his grip firm yet gentle as he set her down carefully against the cool surface of the countertop, he wasted no time in capturing her lips with his own. His kiss was passionate, almost desperate, filled with an intensity that spoke volumes about the emotions coursing through him. His tongue slid past her lips, exploring the warmth of her mouth while his free hand roamed over her curves, squeezing and groping with a possessive touch.

Cillian's tongue danced around mouth with a hunger that matched his eyes, each flick and swirl sending sparks shooting down her spine. His fingers dug into her flesh roughly, bruisingly, but there was something so incredibly hot about it that sent shivers down her body. His teeth nipped at her lower lip, tugging gently as though he wanted more. But he didn't want to push it, so instead he let out a low growl that vibrated against her lips. After a few moments of teasing, he pulled away from the kiss, his breathing ragged. "Fuck, baby," he groaned, sounding more American than Irish right now.

Cillian took a step back, his breath catching in his throat as he took in the sight of her. To him, she was perfect—an embodiment of beauty and grace, someone who had managed to capture his heart so completely that it felt like a spell had been cast upon him. His admiration was almost palpable, a silent declaration of love and devotion that seemed to hang in the air between them. She was perched on the cool countertop, her legs dangling playfully, her bare feet brushing against the cabinet beneath. She wore one of his shirts, the fabric soft and worn from countless washes, now serving as an impromptu nightgown. The shirt was a little big on her but not by a lot, the hemline barely covering the lace of her underwear, just by the lace style he could tell it was one he just recently bought her.

As she hopped off the countertop, her feet hitting the cold floor with a soft thud, she looked up at him, her smile widening. She walked towards him, the shirt swaying with each step, revealing glimpses of her smooth skin. When she reached him, she placed her hands on his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under her fingertips. Cillian's heart thudded loudly in his chest, a rhythm that matched the low growl emanating from his stomach. He chuckled softly, a rich sound that filled the kitchen, and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

He chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that filled the kitchen. "Seems like I’m a bit hungry," he said, his Irish accent thick and melodious. He placed a hand over his stomach, giving her a sheepish grin. "Must’ve been all that starin’. You’ve got me completely spellbound, ya know that?"

She laughed, the sound light and musical, her eyes sparkling with affection. "Well, we can’t have you starving now, can we?" she teased, her hands still resting on his chest. "What do you feel like having for breakfast?"

“Somethin’ simple..” Cillian said while fiddling with a piece of her hair.

The both of them separated at the same time, Cillian and her chuckled softly; she stepped over to the kettle to fill it with water for her tea. As she moved, the oversized shirt she wore swayed, giving Cillian a tantalizing glimpse of her bare legs. He watched her for a moment, his heart swelling with love and a hint of possessive pride. He adored seeing her in his clothes, a visible reminder that she was his and he was hers.

While she was waiting for her tea to make, she walked over to the cupboard and reached up to retrieve a mug from the shelf, standing on her tiptoes. Cillian was beside her in an instant, his hands gentle but firm as he steadied her. "Careful now, don't want ye fallin' and hurtin' yourself."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm not that clumsy, Cill~."

"Aye, well, I like to take precautions," he said, his tone teasing but his eyes serious. He couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to her. He handed her the mug, their fingers brushing together in a small but intimate gesture. She took it with a smile, her touch lingering on his for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

As the tea steeped, they turned their attention to the food. Cillian moved to the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs, a pack of bacon and sausage. "How do ye want yer eggs this mornin', love?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at her.

"Scrambled, please," she replied, setting out the pancake mix on the counter. "And maybe a bit of cheese in them?"

"Comin' right up," he said with a wink, cracking the eggs into a bowl with deft movements. She watched him for a moment, admiring the way his muscles flexed and moved beneath his skin. Even in such a simple setting, he was captivating. While he worked on the eggs, she mixed the pancake batter, humming softly to herself. Cillian couldn't help but smile at the sight of her, so content and at ease in his kitchen. It was moments like these that he cherished most – the quiet, unremarkable mornings that spoke of a life built together on love and trust.

"Do you need any help with that, darlin'?" he asked, his voice breaking her out of her reverie.

"No, I’ve got it," she said, pouring the batter onto the hot griddle. "But you could start the bacon and sausage if you don't mind."

"Anything for ye," he replied, moving to the stove and laying the strips of bacon in the pan. The sizzle and pop of the meat filled the air, mingling with the smell of the steeping tea and cooking pancakes. He added the sausages to another pan, his movements sure and confident. They worked side by side in comfortable silence, the only sounds the quiet clatter of utensils and the hiss of the cooking food. Every so often, Cillian would glance over at her, his heart swelling with a love so fierce it almost took his breath away. She caught him looking once and raised an eyebrow. "What?" she asked, a smile playing on her lips.

"Nothin', just enjoyin' the view," he replied with a mischievous grin. "Ye look beautiful this mornin'."

She blushed, ducking her head to hide her smile. "Flatterer."

"Just speakin' the truth," he said, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "I love you, ye know that?"

"I know," she replied, her voice soft and full of emotion. "I love you too, Cill~."

They finished cooking, the plates piled high with fluffy pancakes, crispy bacon, savory sausages, and perfectly scrambled eggs. She poured herself a cup of tea, the fragrant steam rising around her. "This is perfect," she said, taking a sip and closing her eyes in bliss.

He smiled, his eyes softening. "Aye, and it only gets better from here."

They sat down to eat, their knees touching under the table. As they shared the meal they had made together, they talked about everything and nothing, their voices low and filled with affection. Cillian couldn't help but think about the day he had planned many months in advance. But for now, though, he was content to sit here with her, enjoying this perfect morning. He reached over to take her hand, his fingers lacing through hers. "To us," he said, raising his coffee cup in a toast.

"To us," she echoed, lifting her tea. They clinked their cups together, the sound a sweet promise of the future they would build together. As they ate, talked, and laughed, Cillian knew that this moment – this quiet, simple moment – was the start of something beautifully new and exciting.

The bathroom was an elegant sanctuary, with soft lighting casting a warm glow on the marble countertops and tiled floors. The scent of lavender and eucalyptus filled the air, a calming aroma that always made her feel at ease. Cillian stood by the large, glass-enclosed shower, his eyes reflecting the soft golden hues of the room. His lean, sculpted frame was a sight to behold, the result of years of disciplined fitness and a healthy lifestyle. His dark hair, slightly tousled, added a touch of ruggedness to his otherwise polished appearance. His piercing blue eyes, the color of a clear Irish sky, held an intensity that never failed to captivate her.

Cillian’s gaze was affectionate as he looked at her, a small, knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Love, I’ll start it fer us,” he said, his rich Irish accent adding a musical lilt to his words. He reached for the brushed nickel handle and turned it, adjusting the temperature until the water was just right. The sound of the water cascading down onto the tiled floor created a soothing symphony.

As the steam began to fill the room, he turned back to her, his eyes tracing the lines of her body with a reverent appreciation. “Come here, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice a gentle command that she found impossible to resist. She stepped closer, and he reached out to cup her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing lightly over her cheekbones. “Yer so beautiful,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin.

She felt a shiver run down her spine at his touch, a delicious anticipation building within her. His hands moved from her face to her shoulders, his fingers tracing a path down her arms, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. He was always so gentle, so attentive, his touch a perfect blend of tenderness and passion. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, then her nose, before finally capturing her lips in a kiss that was both sweet and searing.

When they finally pulled apart, they were both breathless, their hearts pounding in unison. “Ye make me feel like the luckiest man in the world,” he said, his voice low and earnest. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that she almost always saw, a glimpse of the depth of his feelings for her. “I want ye to know that.”

She smiled, her heart swelling with love for him. “And you make me feel cherished,” she replied, her voice soft but filled with emotion. She reached up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, her fingers lingering against his skin.

His eyes darkened with an emotion she couldn’t quite name, and he pulled her into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around her protectively. “Yer my everything, ye know that?” he murmured into her hair. “I’d do anythin’ to make ye happy.”

She nestled into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her own. They stood like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other’s warmth, before he reluctantly pulled back. “We’d best get in before the water gets cold,” he said with a soft chuckle, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

She laughed, the sound light and carefree, and nodded. “Lead the way, Mr. Murphy,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. He grinned, his boyish charm shining through, and took her hand, guiding her towards the shower. The steam enveloped them as they stepped inside, the hot water cascading over their bodies. Cillian reached for the bottle of her favorite shampoo, the scent of lavender and vanilla filling the air as he lathered it in his hands.

“Turn around, love,” he instructed gently, and she complied, closing her eyes as his fingers worked the shampoo into her hair. His touch was firm yet gentle, his fingers massaging her scalp in slow, deliberate circles. She sighed in contentment, leaning into his touch, the sensation utterly blissful.

He rinsed the shampoo from her hair, the warm water running down her back in soothing rivulets. “How does that feel?” he asked, his voice a husky murmur in her ear.

“Perfect,” she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper. “You always know just what I need.”

He smiled, a tender expression that made her heart skip a beat. “I aim to please,” he said, his tone playful yet sincere. He reached for the body wash, his hands gliding over her skin with practiced ease, each touch sending a spark of desire through her.

They took their time, savoring each moment, each touch, each whispered word of love and affection. It was a ritual they had come to cherish, a time to reconnect and reaffirm their bond. As the water continued to cascade around them, they moved in perfect harmony, their bodies attuned to each other in a way that only years of love and intimacy could bring.

When they finally stepped out of the shower, they were both flushed and breathless, their skin glowing from the heat and their shared passion. Cillian wrapped a plush towel around her, his hands lingering on her shoulders as he pressed a kiss to her temple. “I love ye more than words can say,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. She looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I love you too, Cillian,” she replied, her voice steady despite the overwhelming emotions swirling within her. They dried off in comfortable silence, the intimacy of the moment wrapping around them like a warm blanket. Cillian handed her a robe, his eyes lingering on her with a look of pure adoration.

Cillian in a fresh pair of boxer briefs and his girl in a different lace lingerie set he had bought her, they both stood in the middle of their expansive walk-in closet, surrounded by racks of meticulously organized clothing and rows of gleaming shoes. The closet, almost the size of a small bedroom, was a testament to their shared love for fashion and luxury. Shelves lined with her designer handbags and her accessories filled the room, while full-length mirrors reflected the couple's movements. The air was lightly scented with a hint of lavender, adding a calming ambiance to the space.

His girl was a vision of elegance as she sifted through the dresses, her fingers brushing against the luxurious fabrics. She paused, pulling out a sleek black dress that looked black on the outside but was a deep shade of red on the inside it also held a deep thigh slit, holding it up for his inspection. The dress was stunning, it was after all one of a kind since he got it made for her. However it was the kind that demanded attention and exuded confidence. She paired it with her red-bottom heels, the iconic shoes adding a touch of bold sophistication.

She turned to him, a hint of uncertainty in her eyes, and asked, “Do you think it’s too over the top for where we’re going or no?”

Cillian pushed off the doorjamb and walked over to her, his own selection draped over his arm. He had chosen a classic black tuxedo with a crisp white shirt and a perfectly knotted black tie. His polished red-bottom shoes added a touch of flair to his otherwise traditional ensemble. He stepped close, his hands gently taking the dress from her as he looked into her eyes. His gaze was intense, filled with adoration and an almost palpable hunger.

“Darlin’, yeh could never be too over the top,” he said, his Irish accent rolling off his tongue like a caress. “Yeh look absolutely stunnin’ in that dress. Trust me, no matter where we go, all eyes will be on yeh, and that’s exactly how it should be.”

He handed the dress back to her, his fingers brushing against hers in a lingering touch. She smiled, reassured by his words and the sincerity in his eyes. As she smiled and walked out of the closet, Cillian couldn't help but admire her beauty. His gaze lingered on her figure, appreciating the way her hips swayed gently with each step. The soft light filtering through the closet's windows illuminated her form, casting a warm glow over her skin. She laid her chosen dress and heels on the bed with a delicate touch, the fabric shimmering in the light.

As he dressed, he couldn't shake the image of her from his mind, her beauty and grace captivating him completely. Once dressed, Cillian made his way to the bathroom, where she was applying her makeup. He leaned against the door frame, watching her with a soft smile. "You look stunning," he said, his Irish accent lending a musical quality to his words.

She glanced up, a blush rising to her cheeks at his compliment. "Thank you," she replied, returning his smile. She turned back to the mirror, adding the finishing touches to her makeup with practiced precision.

“Cillian, can you help me with the dress?” She asked while walking out of the bathroom.

The soft glow of the bedside lamps cast a warm light over the expansive bedroom, illuminating the exquisite furnishings and delicate fabrics that adorned the room. He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips as he stepped closer to her. His hands, strong and sure, gently caressed her shoulders as he carefully lifted the fabric, sliding the straps into place.

His touch was tender, his movements slow and deliberate as he smoothed the fabric over her back, his fingers brushing against her skin in a way that made her heart skip a beat. As he worked, he couldn't help but admire her beauty, the way the dress accentuated her curves, the way her hair cascaded down her back in soft waves. Once the dress was in place, he moved to her feet, kneeling down to help her with her heels. He carefully slipped each shoe onto her foot, his hands lingering for a moment as he fastened the straps, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her.

"Thank you, love," she said, her voice filled with gratitude as she turned to face him. Her eyes met his, and for a moment, they just stood there, lost in each other's gaze. Then, without a word, he took her hand and led her to the full-length mirror.

As she admired her reflection, he stood behind her, his hands resting lightly on her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. "You look absolutely stunning," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. She smiled, a blush creeping onto her cheeks as she turned to face him.

"Thank you, Cill," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "For everything."

He smiled, a smile that reached his eyes, his love for her shining brightly. "Anything for you, love," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity.

As they walked towards the garage, Cillian could hear her heels clicking against the tile. Fuck, that sound turned him on a lot. Cillian gaze swept over the row of gleaming cars, his expression thoughtful yet eager. His girl, her arm intertwined with his, followed his gaze, her eyes widening at the sight of the luxurious vehicles before them. The Porsche 911, with its sleek lines and powerful engine, exuded an air of speed and sophistication. The Audi R8, a true marvel of engineering, stood out with its aggressive stance and futuristic design. The Aston Martin DB11, a symbol of British luxury, radiated elegance and class.

They continued down the line, exploring each car in turn. The Audi A8L, with its spacious interior and cutting-edge technology, impressed them with its comfort and sophistication. The Audi Q7, a versatile SUV, promised a smooth and enjoyable ride. The Mercedes-Benz S-Class, known for its opulence and refinement, offered a taste of luxury like no other. Finally, the Lexus RX 450h, with its hybrid technology and eco-friendly design, appealed to their sense of environmental responsibility.

After carefully considering their options, Cillian turned to his girlfriend with a grin. "I think I know which one we should pick."

She raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "Oh? Which one?"

Cillian gestured towards the Aston Martin DB11. "The DB11. It's the perfect blend of style and performance, just like us."

His girlfriend smiled, nodding in agreement. "I couldn't agree more. Let's take the DB11 for a spin."

Cillian, with a smile that bespoke of a man deeply in love, walked over to her side of the car and gently opened the door, a gesture as natural to him as breathing. "After you, love," he said in his charming Irish accent, his voice a melodic blend of warmth and affection. His girlfriend, a vision of beauty in her own right, slid into the plush leather seat, her eyes shining with excitement. Cillian closed the door with a soft thud and made his way to the driver's side. As he settled into the luxurious interior, the scent of fine leather enveloped him, a familiar and comforting aroma that never failed to please his senses. He inserted the key into the ignition, and with a press of a button, the engine roared to life, its powerful rumble reverberating through the air.

"Ready for a bit of a drive, love?" Cillian asked, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.

The afternoon sun danced through the tinted windows, casting warm rays of golden light upon the interior of the luxurious vehicle. Cillian, with his impeccable sense of style and undeniable charisma, exuded an air of quiet confidence as he navigated the bustling city streets with ease. As they drove, the air crackled with anticipation, a palpable tension that hung between them like a delicate veil. Cillian's gaze lingered on his girlfriend, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips as he admired her beauty. With a subtle movement, he reached out, his hand gliding across the smooth leather of the car's interior until it found its resting place on her thigh. His touch was gentle yet possessive, a silent declaration of his affection and desire.

With a knowing glance, Cillian guided the car towards their destination, the anticipation building with each passing moment. The streets blurred past in a kaleidoscope of colors, the rhythm of the city pulsing around them as they drew closer to their destination. And then, as if on cue, they arrived at their destination—an breathtakingly, beautiful restaurant within the heart of the city, its charming facade beckoning them inside with promises of culinary delights.

"You're going to love where we're eating," Cillian murmured, his voice a low, melodious rumble that sent shivers down her spine. His Irish accent lent an irresistible charm to his words, infusing them with warmth and sincerity. With a flick of his wrist, he cut the engine and turned to face her, his eyes sparkling with mischief and excitement.

The moment his foot touches the ground, the crowd's chatter briefly intensifies. Whispers of recognition ripple through the onlookers as they realize the presence of the renowned actor. His chiseled features remain composed, though there's a flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes as he subtly nods towards the valet and a few fans who’ve gathered, eager for a glimpse.

"Darlin’, ye look absolutely beautiful," he murmurs, his Irish lilt wrapping around the words like a soft embrace. His gaze is fixed on his girlfriend, who gracefully steps out beside him. Her dress, a sleek, black dress that complements her eyes, glows softly under the lights. He extends his hand, his fingers gently brushing against hers, the simple touch igniting a spark of electricity between them. "It's so hard for me to keep me hands off of ye," he adds, his voice low, filled with genuine admiration and a hint of playful mischief.

Despite the eyes on them, Cillian's focus never wavers from her. He leads her towards the grand entrance of the restaurant, their steps in perfect sync. As they pass through the elegantly arched doorway, the maître d’ greets them with a knowing smile, acknowledging Cillian with a respectful nod. "Mr. Murphy, welcome. Your table is ready."

Cillian inclines his head in appreciation. "Thank ye," he responds, his voice carrying the warmth of his heritage. The maître d’ gestures towards a secluded alcove, partially hidden by luxurious drapes and adorned with softly glowing candles. It’s a haven of intimacy amidst the bustling atmosphere, a place where they can enjoy their evening undisturbed. Reaching the table, Cillian releases her hand with a reluctant sigh. He steps forward, pulling out her chair with a graceful flourish, the epitome of chivalry. "Here ye go, love," he says, his voice a tender caress. She takes her seat, and as he pushes the chair in, he leans down, his lips brushing the delicate skin of her neck. The touch is feather-light, yet it sends a delicious shiver racing down her spine.

He takes his seat across from her, their eyes locking in a silent conversation that speaks volumes. The ambient light casts a soft glow on his face, highlighting the intensity in his gaze. "I wanted tonight to be perfect for ye," he confides, his accent adding a lyrical quality to his words. "Ye deserve nothin’ but the best."

Their dinner is a symphony of flavors and textures, each course meticulously crafted to delight and surprise. As they savor the exquisite dishes, their conversation flows effortlessly, punctuated by shared glances and the occasional touch. Cillian's eyes never stray far from her, his adoration evident in every gesture.

At one point, he reaches across the table, his fingers intertwining with hers. "Ye know, love," he begins, his voice a soft murmur, "Every moment with ye feels like a gift. I’m the luckiest man alive to have ye by me side." His words are sincere, filled with a depth of feeling that takes her breath away. The night progresses in a blur of laughter, shared stories, and quiet moments of connection. The world outside their private alcove fades into the background, leaving only the two of them in a cocoon of love and intimacy. Cillian's charm and wit keep her enthralled, his accent adding a layer of enchantment to every word he speaks.

Their dessert, a Mille-Feuille of Tahitian Vanilla Cream, sat temptingly between them, its delicate layers promising a delightful end to their meal. Cillian, ever the gentleman, had ordered it with her favorite flavor in mind, knowing how much she adored vanilla. As they began to share the dessert, Cillian's eyes sparkled with a mixture of amusement and adoration. He loved these moments of simple joy, the way she would close her eyes slightly as she savored each bite, the soft hum of satisfaction she made when something particularly pleased her. He was entranced by her, utterly captivated by every little detail.

"Ah, darlin', you look ravishing," Cillian said with a laugh, his Irish accent wrapping around the words in a way that made her heart flutter. His blue eyes twinkled with amusement as he looked at her, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile that spoke of his deep affection.

The rest of their dessert was consumed with playful exchanges and lingering glances, each moment a testament to the deep bond they shared. Cillian's heart swelled with love as he watched her, the way she lit up the room with her presence. After they finished their meal, Cillian reached into his wallet and pulled out a generous tip for the waiter, a gesture that spoke volumes of his appreciation for the evening's service. He stood up gracefully and walked over to her, his movements smooth and confident. With a charming smile, he pulled her chair out, helping her to her feet.

"Ready, love?" he asked, his voice soft but filled with anticipation.

As they left the restaurant, they were immediately swarmed by paparazzi, their cameras flashing incessantly, trying to capture every moment. Cillian’s demeanor shifted slightly, his protective instincts kicking in. He kept a firm but gentle grip on her hand, his body shielding her from the intrusive flashes. He led her swiftly to his Aston Martin DB11, its sleek lines and powerful presence a perfect match for the man himself.

"Ignore 'em, darlin'," he said softly, his accent thick with the effort to keep his frustration in check. "Let's get ye outta here."

He opened the car door for her, a small, reassuring smile playing on his lips despite the chaos around them. Once she was safely inside, he quickly moved to the driver’s side, sliding in and starting the engine with a low, satisfying rumble. He maneuvered the car out of the crowded street with practiced ease, his focus entirely on her well-being. As they drove off, leaving the paparazzi behind, he reached over and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "Ye alright, love?" he asked, his eyes flicking to her for a moment before returning to the road.

She nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Cillian. Just glad to be with you."

His heart swelled at her words, and he brought her hand to his lips, kissing it tenderly. "Yer too good to me," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of burnt orange and dusky pink, the world outside the car windows seemed to pause, capturing a moment of pure tranquility. The sleek, dark silhouette of Cillian’s luxury car glided smoothly along the winding road, the engine’s soft purr blending with the gentle whisper of the wind. Inside, the atmosphere was warm and intimate, cocooned in a bubble of soft leather seats and the lingering aroma of their recent meal. The soft strains of music played in the background, a soothing accompaniment to the quiet contentment that filled the car.

Cillian’s hand slipped back to her thigh and rested there. His fingers, cool and reassuring, sought the warmth of her skin, finding comfort in the familiar gesture. He glanced at her briefly, a small, affectionate smile playing at the corners of his mouth before returning his gaze to the road ahead. The fading light cast a golden glow on his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his face and the intense blue of his eyes, making him look almost ethereal.

“I love yah, ye know that?” he murmured, his voice a low, melodic rumble, thick with his Irish accent. There was a sincerity in his tone, a depth of feeling that conveyed more than just the words themselves. It was a declaration and a reassurance, a way of anchoring himself to her in this perfect moment.

She turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting his in a brief but electric connection. She felt the warmth of his hand seep through the fabric of her dress, a physical reminder of his constant presence. She smiled, a soft, knowing smile that spoke volumes, her own hand reaching over to cover his. The contact was simple yet profound, a silent affirmation of their bond. The road stretched ahead, a ribbon of asphalt winding through the picturesque countryside. Trees lined either side, their branches forming a canopy that filtered the dying light, casting dappled shadows on the car. The air was cool and fragrant with the scent of pine and earth, the kind of evening that felt timeless and endless. Cillian’s hand gave a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing in slow, lazy circles over her skin.

“Ye know, every moment with ye feels like a gift,” he continued, his accent wrapping around the words like a soft embrace. “I never thought I’d find someone who makes me feel this way, who makes everythin’ brighter just by bein’ there.”

His girlfriend’s heart swelled with emotion, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around her like a warm blanket. She squeezed his hand back, her own words a quiet echo of his sentiment. “I feel the same way, Cillian. You make everything better, just by being you.”

They drove on in companionable silence, the landscape shifting as the sun continued its descent. The car’s interior grew dimmer, the twilight casting long shadows that danced across their faces. Cillian’s hand remained steady on her thigh, a constant, grounding presence. He glanced at her again, his eyes filled with a love that was both fierce and tender.

“Ye mean the world to me,” he said softly, almost to himself. “I’d do anythin’ to make ye happy, to see that smile on yer face.”

She felt a rush of affection, her heart beating a little faster at his words. “You already do, Cillian. Every single day.”

As they neared their home, the familiar landmarks began to appear, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. The car turned onto the long driveway, the gravel crunching softly under the tires. As Cillian parked the car in front of their quaint, ivy-covered house, the late afternoon sun casting a golden hue across the cobblestone path leading up to the front door. As the engine hushed into silence, he turned to his girlfriend, his blue eyes sparkling with a mixture of anticipation and affection. His smile was warm, the kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes and conveyed a world of unspoken promises.

With a fluid grace that seemed effortless, he stepped out of the car and walked around to her side. He opened her door with a flourish, bowing slightly as if she were royalty. Extending his hand, he gazed at her with a tender intensity that made her heart flutter. “I’ve got somethin’ you’ll like waitin’ on you inside,” he said, his Irish accent soft and lilting, each word a caress.

She looked up at him, curiosity alight in her eyes, and a radiant smile spread across her face. “Cill, today’s been perfect. I don’t think it can get any better,” she said, her voice filled with genuine contentment.

His grin widened, a hint of mystery playing on his lips. Taking her hand, he led her up the path to the front door, their steps in sync, like a dance they had rehearsed a thousand times. The scent of blooming roses wafted through the air, mingling with the faintest hint of cologne that clung to him. Just as they reached the doorstep, a flicker of realization crossed his features. He turned to her, his expression apologetic but playful. “Stay right here, love. I’ll be back in a jiffy,” he said, darting back to the car with a sprightliness that belied his age.

She watched him go, her heart swelling with affection. The past two years with Cillian had been a whirlwind of emotions, adventures, and countless moments of pure, unadulterated joy. He was a man of contradictions—intense yet gentle, serious yet capable of the most boyish charm. He returned quickly, stuffing something small in his pocket. His smile was back, more radiant than ever, as if he held the keys to a treasure chest of happiness. “Close yer eyes for me,” he said, his voice a soft command that she obeyed without hesitation. She closed her eyes, her mind racing with possibilities. What could he have planned? She felt a gentle tug on her hand as he led her forward, each step measured and careful. The cool breeze whispered against her skin, heightening her senses.

He had been meticulous in his planning, ensuring every detail was perfect, and now, anticipation thrummed through him as he brought her into the heart of their home. The house was quiet, save for the soft rustle of their footsteps against the hardwood floor, the familiar creaks and groans adding to the intimate atmosphere.

“Ye can open them for me,” he finally whispered, his voice a soft caress in her ear.

As she opened her eyes, the sight before her took her breath away. The room was bathed in the gentle, flickering light of countless candles, each flame dancing gracefully in the dim ambiance. The golden glow illuminated every corner, casting playful shadows that seemed to come alive with the romance of the evening. The subtle scent of vanilla and sandalwood from the candles mingled in the air, creating a warm and inviting aroma that wrapped around them like a comforting embrace. Her gaze was drawn to the floor, where rose petals were artfully scattered, forming a delicate path that led towards the dining area. The rich red hues of the petals contrasted beautifully against the dark wood, creating a scene that was both enchanting and dreamlike. Each step she took felt as though she were walking on a cloud of romance, the petals cushioning her feet and heightening her senses.

At the end of the petal-strewn path stood a table set for two, placed strategically by the fireplace. The table was elegantly dressed in a pristine white cloth, the edges embroidered with intricate lace patterns. Silverware glinted in the candlelight, perfectly positioned beside fine china plates adorned with delicate floral designs. Crystal glasses sparkled, catching the light and reflecting it back in a kaleidoscope of colors. A bottle of her favorite champagne rested in a silver bucket, the ice inside crackling softly as it melted. The sight of it brought a smile to her lips; Cillian had remembered every detail, no matter how small. The champagne was a symbol of their many celebrations together, each glass they had shared over the years filled with laughter, love, and memories.

He stepped closer to her, his arm encircling her waist, pulling her gently against him. “Do ye like it, darlin’?” he asked, his breath warm against her neck.

Beside the table, a pile of gifts beckoned, each one meticulously wrapped in elegant paper and tied with satin ribbons. There were at least twenty of them, their sizes and shapes varying, but all equally enticing. The bows on top were perfect, each loop and knot a testament to the care and effort he had put into this evening. The presents themselves were a reflection of his love for her, each one chosen with her in mind, each one a small token of his adoration and devotion.

She turned to him, her eyes wide with astonishment and love. "Cillian, this is... I don't even know what to say. It's perfect."

He smiled, a boyish grin that lit up his face and made her heart flutter. “Aye, I wanted it to be special. Ye deserve nothin' but the best, love.” His Irish lilt was soft, the words rolling off his tongue like a melody, soothing and comforting. He reached out, taking her hand in his and leading her to the table. “Come, sit. There's more to the evenin’ yet.”

As she settled into the chair, he deftly uncorked the champagne, the pop of the bottle a cheerful sound that echoed through the room. He poured the bubbly liquid into the glasses, the effervescence rising in a cascade of tiny bubbles that caught the candlelight. He handed her a glass, his fingers brushing against hers, sending a shiver of electricity up her arm.

“To us,” he toasted, his eyes never leaving hers. “Two years, and many more to come.”

They clinked their glasses together, the crystal ringing with a pure, clear note that seemed to resonate in the air around them. She took a sip, the champagne cool and crisp on her tongue, a contrast to the warmth spreading through her chest. Cillian watched her, his gaze soft and full of adoration, his heart swelling with love and anticipation. Her heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. She looked at him, her eyes searching his, seeing the depth of his feelings reflected back at her. He stood up, moving to the side of the table and reaching into his pocket. Her pulse quickened as he pulled out a small, velvet box, his fingers trembling slightly as he opened it to reveal a dazzling diamond ring.

"My love," Cillian began, his Irish accent adding a melodious tone to his words, "from the moment I met you, I knew that you were the one I wanted to spend my life with. You have brought so much joy and love into my life, and I cannot imagine a future without you by my side."

He dropped to one knee, his eyes never leaving hers. “Will ye marry me, love? Will ye make me the luckiest man in the world?”

Tears sprang to her eyes, her heart overflowing with emotion. She nodded, unable to find her voice at first. Finally, she managed to whisper, “Yes, Cillian. Yes, a thousand times yes.”

His face lit up with joy, a brilliant smile spreading across his lips as he slipped the ring onto her finger. He stood, pulling her up into his arms and spinning her around, their laughter mingling with the soft crackle of the fireplace and the gentle rustle of the petals underfoot. He kissed her, a deep and passionate kiss that spoke of his love and commitment, a kiss that sealed their promise to each other.

As they pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling. "I can't believe it," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Ye're goin' t'be me wife."

She smiled, her eyes shining with love. "And you, my husband," she replied, her voice soft and full of promise.

Cillian stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes locked on his now fiancée with a blend of affection and admiration. The soft glow from the bedside lamp cast gentle shadows across the room, highlighting the intimate setting they found themselves in. His suit jacket, a tailored piece of midnight black, slipped from his shoulders with an ease that spoke of the countless times he had performed this simple act. The fabric rustled as it fell onto the armchair nearby, the sound almost a whisper in the otherwise quiet room. He took a moment to appreciate the sight before him—his beloved lying back against the plush pillows, her features softened by the dim light. The events of the day, the lavish surprises, and the ultimate proposal had all led to this tender moment. Her eyes followed his every move, a gentle smile playing on her lips, reflecting the joy and contentment of the day's celebrations.

As he began to unbutton his crisp white dress shirt, Cillian’s fingers moved with deliberate slowness, each button revealing more of his toned chest. The act was methodical, almost ritualistic, as if prolonging this moment was a way to savor the anticipation that hung in the air. "Ye know, love," he began, his Irish lilt adding a musical quality to his words, "today's been perfect, but the real treasure is this moment right here, with ye."

His voice was soft, yet it carried the weight of his emotions. The shirt parted, revealing the expanse of his chest, the defined lines of his muscles subtly highlighted by the light. He shrugged out of the garment, letting it fall to join the jacket, and took a step closer to the bed. The intimacy of the setting was almost tangible, the room filled with a sense of serenity and unspoken promises. Cillian's eyes never left hers as he reached for her hand, lifting it to his lips. He pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles that now holds the beautiful diamond ring, his gaze intense and filled with adoration. "I cannae tell ye how much ye mean to me, darlin'. Every moment with ye feels like a gift." His accent made the words sound like a melody, each syllable wrapped in sincerity and passion.

He stopped and just looked at her beneath him. Cillian’s blue eyes, as deep and mesmerizing as the Irish sea, gleamed with a hunger that spoke volumes more than any words ever could. His gaze lingered on her, taking in every curve, every subtle movement of her body beneath him. There was a palpable tension in the air, thick with anticipation and desire. It was as if time itself had paused, holding its breath for the lovers entwined in a moment of pure, unadulterated intimacy. He could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat, each thud reverberating through his chest, matching the pulse he saw at her throat.

His hand, gentle yet firm, cupped her cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing across her skin with a tenderness that belied the intensity of his desire. The contrast of his roughened hands against her softness was a sensation that he relished. Leaning in slowly, savoring the proximity, he captured her lips with his in a kiss that was at once tender and searing. The taste of her, sweet and intoxicating, ignited something primal within him. He kissed her with a fervor that left no doubt about the depth of his feelings.

“Ah, mo stór~” he whispered against her lips, the endearment rolling off his tongue in a rich, melodic lilt. "Y've no idea how much I crave ye, how much I adore ye."

He began a slow, deliberate descent, his lips trailing a path from her mouth to her jawline. Each kiss was a promise, a testament to the passion he felt. His breath was warm against her skin, sending shivers down her spine as he moved to her neck. There, he lingered, the tip of his tongue tracing the delicate line of her pulse before he pressed a soft kiss just below her ear. She could feel the vibration of his moan, low and deep, as he relished the taste of her.

His kisses moved lower, exploring the curve of her neck, mapping out every inch with a meticulousness that made her toes curl. "God, ye taste like heaven," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper. "I could lose m'self in ye forever."

As he reached her collarbone, he paused, drawing back slightly to look at her. His eyes, darkened with desire, held a question, seeking her permission to continue. The slight nod of her head, the silent plea in her eyes, was all he needed. His hand slid down her arm, fingers brushing lightly, before he entwined his hand with hers, squeezing gently in a gesture of reassurance.

"Tell me, love," he murmured, his accent thick and intoxicating. "Tell me ye want this as much as I do."

Her breath hitched as she nodded again, her voice barely a whisper. "I want it, Cillian. I want you."

Cillian's eyes sparkled with admiration as he looked at her, his hands moving with gentle precision. His fingers traced the curves of her sides, feeling the softness of her skin beneath the fabric. With a small, loving smile, he lifted her slightly, his touch tender yet firm, conveying both strength and gentleness. As his hands reached the zipper of her sleek black dress, he moved with deliberate care, his movements slow and purposeful. He slid the zipper down, revealing the smooth expanse of her back. The dress slipped off her shoulders, guided by his hands, and he watched it fall to the floor with a soft rustle, revealing the delicate lace of her undergarments.

Her back was a canvas of beauty, adorned with the intricate patterns of her lace bralette. The deep red hue of the lace contrasted beautifully against her skin, enhancing her curves and accentuating her femininity. Cillian's eyes lingered on her, his gaze filled with admiration and desire. Gently, he lifted her again, his hands sliding around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He felt the warmth of her body against his, a comforting and familiar sensation that never failed to make his heart race. He placed a soft kiss on her shoulder, his lips lingering for a moment before moving to her neck, where he planted another gentle kiss.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity and emotion. His Irish accent added a musical quality to his words, a melodic sound that resonated with warmth and affection. He looked into her eyes, his own filled with love and devotion, and he knew that this moment would be etched in his memory forever.

As Cillian's hand traced the contours of her body, every touch ignited a symphony of sensations within her. His fingers, gentle yet firm, caressed her sides with an intimacy that spoke volumes of his love and desire. She arched her back slightly, a silent invitation for him to explore further, to delve into the depths of her being.

With a feather-light touch, Cillian's hand descended, trailing along the soft curve of her stomach. The fabric of her panties brushed against his fingertips, a tantalizing barrier between them. His touch lingered, teasingly, at the edge of her desire, as if savoring the anticipation of what lay beyond. In the dim light of the room, his eyes met hers, a silent exchange of longing and passion. There was a hunger in his gaze, a hunger matched only by her own. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly began to inch the lace panties downwards, revealing the expanse of her skin and her beautiful cunt.

There was a low growl rumbling in his chest, his eyes darkened with lust as they devoured her body. His voice dropped lower still, the words rolling off his tongue with a guttural edge. "Fuck, darlin', yer body is perfect."

Cillian's hand danced across her sensitive folds, tracing the outline of her slit with a delicate touch. His eyes remained locked onto hers, watching her reactions closely. His thumb brushed over her swollen clit.

His voice was a deep murmur, filled with raw desire. "So fucking wet already."

With a low, rumbling chuckle, Cillian's deep voice echoed through the bedroom. His accent was unmistakably Irish, each word rolling off his tongue with an effortless grace. "Oh darlin', ye seem to have gotten yerself all worked up over this, haven't ya?" His tone was teasing but also held a hint of concern. The flickering light from the candles cast shadows across his face, highlighting the strong jawline and piercing blue eyes.

Without breaking eye contact, he continued tracing slow sloppy and broken circles around her clit with his thumb, applying just enough pressure to send jolts of pleasure coursing through her body. But there was no rush, no need to push her towards climax. Instead, he took his time, letting his touch become both soothing and arousing all at once.

"There ye go now, let yer body relax into me. Just feel those sensations..."

Cillian's fingers moved expertly against her sensitive cunt, each movement sending shivers up her spine. His touch is light yet firm, his thumb teasing circles around her swollen clit while his fingers slide effortlessly within her. The second digit curls just right, hitting that sweet spot deep inside her. He slips another finger into her tight cunt, stretching her deliciously as his thumb continues its relentless assault on her throbbing clit. His pace quickens, his breath hitching as he feels her walls clench tightly around him.

"Ah, darlin', ye're so wet... So ready fer me…" His voice is a low murmur, thick with desire and laced with his distinctive Irish accent.

His fingers moved with practiced precision, each touch a symphony of sensation orchestrated for her pleasure. His touch was both gentle and firm, teasing and exploring, as if he were playing a finely tuned instrument. Her responses were music to his ears, each sigh and moan a note in the melody they created together. He could feel her trembling beneath him, her body arching into his touch, seeking more, and he obliged with a deep, resonant chuckle that seemed to vibrate through his chest and into her very core.

"Ye look so beautiful, love," he murmured, his voice a soft, lilting brogue that sent shivers down her spine. "Every single part o' ye... just perfect."

His eyes moved over her face, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and the way her teeth caught her lower lip. He shifted slightly, adjusting his position to get a better angle, his breath hot against her skin. The intimate warmth of the room, the closeness of their bodies, created a heady atmosphere that enveloped them both. His free hand trailed up her side, fingers ghosting over the curve of her waist, the softness of her skin under his calloused palm. He loved the way she responded to his touch, the way her body seemed to sing beneath his fingertips. "D'ye like that, darlin'?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with a raw, unfiltered passion. His eyes locked onto hers, intense and unwavering, searching for the answer he already knew but loved to hear.

She nodded, a breathless "yes" escaping her lips, and he smiled, a slow, satisfied curve of his mouth. "Good," he said, his voice low and rough. "I want ye t' feel every bit o' this, t' know how much ye mean t' me." His fingers moved in a slow, deliberate rhythm, coaxing and caressing, pushing her closer to the edge with every passing second.

Cillian leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both tender and demanding. He poured every ounce of his love and adoration into that kiss, his tongue teasing hers, his teeth nipping at her lower lip. When he pulled back, his breath was ragged, his eyes dark with desire. "I love ye more than words can say," he murmured, his accent thick with emotion. "More than anything in this world." He watched as his words sank in, saw the way her eyes softened, her lips curving into a smile.

His fingers, long and skilled, moved inside her with a precision that made her toes curl. He watched her, his gaze unwavering, as her face contorted in pleasure. Every moan, every gasp she made seemed to fuel his own desire. His lips parted slightly, his breath coming out in shallow, heated puffs. The sight of her, the way she reacted to his touch, was almost too much for him to bear. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, his Irish accent thick and intoxicating.

"Ye gonna come for me, love...come on my fingers..."

The way he spoke, the way his voice dropped to a husky whisper, sent shivers down her spine. It was a command, a plea, and a promise all rolled into one. His words were a sweet torture, pushing her closer to the edge. She could feel the tension building, her body responding to his every touch, his every word. Cillian's eyes darkened as he felt her walls tighten around his fingers. He could tell she was close, teetering on the brink of ecstasy. His thumb found her clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure to push her over the edge. He watched, mesmerized, as her back arched off the bed, her mouth falling open in a silent scream.

"That's it, love...come on my fingers," he murmured, his voice a low growl.

Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, crashing over her with a force that left her breathless. She cried out his name, her hands clutching at the sheets, her entire body trembling with the intensity of her release. Cillian's smile widened, a look of pure satisfaction crossing his features. He kept his fingers inside her, prolonging her pleasure, drawing out every last bit of her orgasm until she was a quivering mess beneath him. As she came down from her high, her chest heaving with every breath, Cillian withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips. He licked them clean, his eyes never leaving hers, a look of pure, unadulterated hunger in his gaze.

"Ye taste so sweet, darlin'," he said, his voice rough with desire.

He leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. She could taste herself on his tongue, a reminder of just how intimately connected they were. His kiss was demanding, his tongue exploring her mouth with a hunger that left her breathless all over again. When he finally pulled away, she could see the fire in his eyes, the raw need that still burned within him.

"I love spoilin' ye, mo stór~," he murmured, his accent thick and lilting. "I love watchin' ye come apart beneath me."

Cillian’s breath came in hot, fervent gasps as he trailed kisses along her neck, savoring the taste of her skin. His fingers, skilled and insistent, returned to their familiar territory, delving into the slick heat of her cunt. Her moans were intoxicating, spurring him on as he sought to draw more from her. Each gasp, each shiver of her body against his, ignited a deeper hunger within him. His free arm snaked around her waist, firm and possessive, lifting her effortlessly as he shifted their position. Propping her up against the headboard, he paused for a moment, his intense blue eyes locking onto hers, conveying a promise of deeper pleasure.

“Look at ye, darlin’,” he murmured, his Irish accent thick and honeyed with desire. “Ye’re so beautiful like this, so needy.” He brushed his lips against her ear, his voice a low growl. “I’m gonna give ye what ye crave.”

As his fingers entered her again, he moved slowly, savoring every inch of the exquisite heat surrounding him. His movements were deliberate, measured, each thrust designed to bring her closer to the edge. The headboard creaked under their combined weight, a testament to the raw intensity of their coupling. She arched against him, her nails digging into his back, urging him on. Cillian responded with a growl of pleasure, increasing his pace, driving deeper into her with each thrust. He could feel her tightening around him, her body responding to the onslaught of sensations. Her cries filled the room, a symphony of pleasure that echoed off the walls. He watched her face, the way her eyes fluttered closed, the way her lips parted with each gasp and moan. She was exquisite, and she was his. Cillian's control was ironclad, his focus solely on her, on drawing out her pleasure until she was utterly lost to it. His fingers found her clit, teasing and tormenting the sensitive bundle of nerves, sending jolts of electric pleasure through her already overwhelmed body.

“God, ye’re so tight,” he breathed, his voice rough with lust. “So perfect around me.”

Her responses drove him wild, her body bucking and writhing beneath him, completely at his mercy. He pressed his lips to her shoulder, biting down gently, a possessive mark that made her shudder. Every movement, every sound she made fueled his desire, pushing him to the brink of his own restraint. He reveled in the feel of her, the taste of her skin, the way she trembled under his touch. She was a masterpiece of sensation, a canvas on which he painted his passion with each thrust, each caress. Her climax was building, he could feel it in the way her muscles clenched around him, in the breathless way she called his name. Cillian didn’t let up, didn’t ease his relentless pace. He wanted her to shatter, to lose herself completely in the pleasure he was giving her. His lips found hers in a bruising kiss, swallowing her cries of ecstasy as she tumbled over the edge. She convulsed around him, her entire body taut with the force of her orgasm, and he held her through it, driving her higher and higher.

“Tha’s it, love,” he murmured against her lips. “Let go for me. Give me everything.”

He didn’t stop, even as she writhed and bucked, her pleasure turning to a sweet, unbearable overstimulation. He watched the way her body responded, how her eyes rolled back, and her nails clawed at his skin. She was so sensitive, so exquisitely responsive, and he wanted to see just how far he could push her. His thrusts became more erratic, driven by a primal need to see her come apart beneath him.

“Can ye take more, love?” he asked, his voice a rough whisper. “Can ye handle a bit more for me?”

Her answer was a breathless, needy nod, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of desperation and desire. It was all the encouragement he needed. His fingers moved faster, his thrusts deeper, pushing her beyond the bounds of her pleasure, into a realm where sensation was all-consuming.

“Cillian,” she gasped, her voice a broken plea.

“I know, love, I know,” he soothed, his own control fraying. “Just a bit more, just for me.” Her third climax hit her like a tidal wave, leaving her gasping and trembling in his arms. He held her close making sure she didn’t lose it mentally.

Cillian’s breath was heavy, mingling with hers in the intimate space between them. His blue eyes, darkened with desire, bore into hers with a raw intensity that made her heart race. He slowly withdrew his fingers, slick with her juices, and brought them to his lips, never breaking eye contact. The way he tasted her, savoring every drop, was both a declaration and a promise. "Yer taste, love, it's somethin' else," he murmured, his voice thick with his accent, adding an extra layer of seduction to his words.

With deliberate slowness, he took her wrists in his hands, his touch firm yet gentle. He pressed them together and, with a controlled strength, guided them above her head, pinning them against the headboard. The wood creaked under the pressure, but it was nothing compared to the sound of their combined breaths, quickening in anticipation. His eyes, a stormy sea of blue, glinted with hunger and something deeper – a possessive need to consume her entirely.

His mouth found her neck, and he kissed a line down her skin, each touch of his lips leaving a burning trail in its wake. He paused to whisper in her ear, his breath warm and shivering, "Ye drive me mad, darlin'. I've never wanted anyone like this." His accent rolled over the words, making them sound almost musical.

As he kissed his way down her body, he took his time, worshipping every inch of her. His lips and tongue traced patterns on her skin, a blend of tender kisses and teasing licks. He savored the way she reacted, the way her body arched towards him, craving more of his touch. When he reached her breasts, he lavished them with attention, sucking and nibbling on her nipples until they were hard and sensitive.

"Ye like that, don’t ye?" he asked, his voice a low, rumbling growl that vibrated against her skin. She could only moan in response, her words lost in the sensations he was creating. Satisfied with her reaction, he continued his descent, his kisses becoming wetter and sloppier as he moved down her stomach, leaving a glistening trail that shimmered in the dim light of the room.

When he reached her thighs, he nipped and kissed the sensitive skin there, his eyes flicking up to watch her face. The anticipation was almost unbearable, and he reveled in the power he had over her, the way he could make her squirm with just a look, a touch. He spread her legs wider, positioning himself between them, and took a moment to appreciate the sight before him. "Christ, yer beautiful," he murmured, his voice reverent. Then, without warning, he dove in, his tongue finding her clit with unerring accuracy. He licked a broad, firm stripe up her slit, collecting her juices on his tongue before circling her clit with expert precision. She gasped, her hips bucking against his face, and he smiled against her, enjoying the way she reacted to his touch.

His tongue was relentless, alternating between long, languid licks and quick, flicking motions that had her seeing stars. He sucked her clit into his mouth, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive her wild. His hands, no longer pinning her wrists, roamed her body, squeezing her breasts, caressing her sides, holding her hips down when her movements became too frantic. He looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers as he continued his assault. "Tell me how it feels, love," he said, his voice muffled against her skin but no less commanding. She tried to form words, but all that came out were breathless moans and whimpers, her body too consumed by pleasure to comply.

His response was a satisfied hum, and he redoubled his efforts, determined to bring her to the edge and push her over. He added his fingers back into the mix, sliding them into her with ease, curling them just right to hit that spot inside her that made her cry out his name. "That's it, yeh, you gonna come on my tongue..” he encouraged, his voice rough and filled with desire.

Her orgasm built slowly, a rising tide of pleasure that swept through her with increasing intensity. Cillian never let up, his tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony to drive her higher and higher. She felt like she was going to burst, the pleasure almost too much to bear, and yet she didn't want it to stop, didn't want him to stop. When her climax finally hit, it was like a dam breaking. She screamed his name, her body convulsing with the force of her release. He held her down, his mouth and fingers continuing to work her through it, drawing out her pleasure until she was a trembling, quivering mess beneath him.

As her orgasm subsided, he pulled back slightly, his face glistening with her juices, a satisfied smile on his lips. He climbed back up her body, capturing her lips in a deep, hungry kiss, letting her taste herself on his tongue. "Ye taste amazin', love," he whispered against her mouth, his voice a husky growl that sent shivers down her spine.

Cillian groaned softly, a sound that reverberated with a low, primal hunger. His fingers, deft and sure, moved to the buckle of his black suit pants. He leaned back slightly, giving himself the space to maneuver, his gaze never leaving her face. There was an intensity in his blue eyes, a mix of desire and adoration that spoke volumes. He undid his belt with one hand, the motion fluid and practiced, then allowed the pants to slide down his legs with a deliberate slowness, a tease in itself. A smile, half-crooked and entirely charming, spread across his lips as he tossed the discarded garment onto the nearby chair, where the rest of their clothes were already haphazardly draped.

His boxers, stretched tight across the bulge of his arousal, bore a damp stain that betrayed his eagerness. The fabric clung to him, outlining every inch of his need. He paused for a moment, letting the anticipation build, savoring the sight of her beneath him. She was a vision, her body laid out invitingly, her skin glistening with a sheen of perspiration that spoke of earlier exertions. Her eyes, wide and dark with lust, followed his every move, her breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts.

Cillian's smile widened, a devilish glint in his eye. "Yer lookin' at me like I'm a feast, love," he murmured, his Irish accent thick and melodic. "An' who am I t' disappoint?" He crawled atop her, the bed dipping slightly under his weight, the muscles in his arms and back flexing with controlled strength. He positioned himself carefully, his throbbing cock now resting against her dripping cunt, the heat and wetness of her core a tantalizing promise. The contact sent a jolt through him, his breath hitching at the exquisite sensation. He moved just enough to tease, the head of his cock brushing against her entrance, spreading her slickness. She gasped, her hips instinctively arching towards him, seeking more. But he was in no hurry. He wanted to draw this out, to make every moment count.

"Patience, darlin'," he whispered, his voice a rough, soothing purr. "We've got all night." He pressed a kiss to her collarbone, his lips warm and soft against her skin. He trailed kisses upwards, his stubble scraping lightly, deliciously, until he reached her mouth. He captured her lips in a deep, searing kiss, his tongue exploring with a leisurely thoroughness that made her toes curl. She moaned into his mouth, her hands threading through his hair, tugging him closer. The sound of her arousal was like music to his ears, spurring him on. He shifted slightly, his cock sliding along her folds, the friction exquisite. He was hard as steel, the need to bury himself inside her almost overwhelming, but he resisted. He wanted her on the edge, desperate and pleading.

"Tell me what ye want, love," he said, his voice a husky whisper against her lips. "I wanna hear ye say it." He drew back just enough to look into her eyes, his gaze intense and filled with a possessive hunger.

She whimpered, her hips moving restlessly. "I want you, Cillian," she breathed, her voice trembling with desire. "Please, I need you."

"Ah, there's a good girl," he murmured, satisfaction lacing his tone. He rewarded her with a slow, languorous thrust, just enough to give her a taste of what she craved. The head of his cock slipped inside her, her heat and tightness enveloping him. He groaned, the sound low and guttural, his control slipping slightly.

He pulled back, teasing her again, earning a frustrated moan. "More," she begged, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Please, Cillian, don't tease me."

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm. "All in good time, love. All in good time." He kissed her again, his tongue delving deep, mimicking the movements he promised with his body. His hand moved to her breast, cupping and kneading, his thumb flicking over her nipple, drawing another gasp from her. He shifted his hips again, his cock sliding deeper, stretching her, filling her. She cried out, her body arching towards him, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. He set a slow, steady rhythm, each thrust deliberate, controlled, driving her wild with need. Her gasps and moans were a symphony, her body a masterpiece he was intent on worshipping.

"Cillian," she gasped, her voice breathless, "please, I need all of you."

Cillian groaned softly, hearing that’s she needed all of him..the sound escaping his lips like a low rumble, vibrating through the room and sending shivers down his fiancée’s spine. His gaze, intense and piercing, locked onto hers, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile that was both tender and mischievous. He cupped her cheek with a gentle hand, his thumb brushing over her soft skin in a caress that was both possessive and loving. His eyes, a mesmerizing blue, held a depth of emotion that words could scarcely convey, filled with love, desire, and a hint of playful arrogance.

He groaned softly, the sound a mix of pleasure and anticipation, as he felt her fingers digging into his back, urging him closer. His lips curled into a smile, one that spoke of both affection and a wicked promise. His hand, strong yet gentle, reached up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing against her flushed skin. Cillian pulled out, making her feel empty causing her to become needy. "You want me cock so bad, why... you wanna bear me kids, don’t yah?" His voice was a low, rumbling whisper, his Irish accent thickening the words and adding a layer of raw sensuality to his question.

As he spoke, his hand left her face, trailing a path down her body with deliberate slowness. His fingers traced the contours of her curves, a touch both possessive and reverent. When he reached her hips, he squeezed them gently, marveling at their perfect shape. “You’ll look so good pregnant, darlin’,” The image of her, swollen with his child, sent a surge of primal desire through him. He could imagine her belly growing round, her breasts fuller, the glow of motherhood enhancing her natural beauty. It was a vision that stirred something deep within him, a fierce protectiveness mingling with his lust. He murmured, his eyes darkening with desire as he imagined the future he wanted so desperately.

He shifted, positioning himself at her entrance once more, the tip of his cock just barely brushing against her. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, her body aching for him to fill her.

"Cillian, please..." she whispered, her voice trembling with need.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and dangerous. "Patience, love. I wanna make this last."

He pushed into her slowly, inch by agonizing inch, filling her completely. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain. She moaned, her nails digging into his back, urging him to move faster. But he held back, taking his time, savoring every moment.

"God, ye feel so good," he groaned, his voice thick with emotion.

He began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one hitting a spot deep inside her that made her see stars. He watched her, his eyes never leaving her face, taking in every expression, every sound she made. It was as if he was memorizing her, committing every detail to memory.

"Look at me, love," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for disobedience.

She opened her eyes, meeting his intense gaze. The connection between them was electric, a palpable force that seemed to bind them together. She could see the love in his eyes, the overwhelming need he had to make her feel cherished and adored.

"Yer mine," he growled, his pace quickening. "Mine to spoil, mine to love."

His words pushed her closer to the edge, the intensity of his thrusts driving her wild. She could feel another orgasm building, the tension coiling in her belly, ready to snap at any moment. Cillian's hand found her clit again, his fingers working in tandem with his thrusts to bring her to the brink.

"Come for me again, love," he urged, his voice a low rumble. "I wanna feel ye come around me."

Cillian watches as she squirms beneath him, her moans growing louder with each thrust. Her legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer as she arches her back, desperate for more stimulation. Cillian obliges, increasing the pace of his fingers on her clit while driving deeper into her. Her walls tighten around his cock, signaling her impending climax. With a final thrust, Cillian feels her cum around his dick, her inner muscles milking him as she cums hard. With a guttural groan, he shoots his hot seed all in her stomach, painting her in thick, ropes of cum. Each spurt sends shivers down his spine, his body convulsing as he rides out the waves of pleasure coursing through him.

Cillian lets out a low growl, his Irish accent thickening as he pants above her. His blue eyes darken with desire, a clear sign that he isn't finished yet. Despite being spent, he can't resist the urge to thrust into her once more. His movements are slow and deliberate, making sure to hit all the right spots. His cock twitches inside her, betraying its eagerness despite having already cum. A grunt escapes his lips as he pushes deeper, stretching her walls even further. His hand finds her clit again, rubbing small circles over it as he picks up the pace.

Cillian grunts, his muscles straining under the exertion as he thrusts into her once more. His breathing grows heavier, each exhale leaving his lips in a misty cloud. He leans down to capture her lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring the depths of her mouth while his hips continue their rhythmic dance. His hands roam over every inch they can reach - tracing along curves and valleys until they find themselves back on her sensitive breasts.

"You're so fucking tight," he murmurs against her skin, punctuating each word with another deep thrust.

Cillian grins down at her, his pale blue eyes sparkling with mischief. He gives a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest as he moans softly. His fingers move in uneven, messy strokes over her clit, deliberately leaving marks on her sensitive flesh. Despite the sloppiness of his touch, she can tell he knows exactly what he's doing. With each thrust, he gets messier and sloppier - then he starts getting more rough…he lays down on her chest and starts slamming his cock into her. “Take, it all mo stór~” he said while beginning to spill his hot seed deep within her sloppy cunt.

Cillian grins down at her, his eyes filled with a primal satisfaction. He keeps pounding into her making sure she is getting every last drop of his seed, each thrust going deeper than the last. A low growl rumbles from deep within his chest as he quickens his pace. With each pump of his hips, he makes sure to grind against that sweet spot inside of her until she's writhing beneath him.

He leans down and nips at her neck playfully before whispering, "You're mine now...my little breeding bitch..."

His fingers dig into her hips as he is slowly coming off of his high, but he still has one left in the tank. Cillian slowly speeds up once more..before with a few more powerful thrusts, he finally releases his last load, his hot cum spurting deep inside her. He keeps thrusting through his orgasm, ensuring every drop goes straight to her womb.

Cillian lay atop his one true love, their bodies entwined in a tangle of limbs, their breaths mingling in the hazy aftermath of ecstasy. With a soft exhale, he slowly lowered himself beside her, still intimately connected, his cock pulsing with the lingering echoes of their shared pleasure. As he gazed upon her, sprawled out before him, he couldn't help but chuckle softly, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. She lay there, utterly spent, her chest rising and falling in a rhythmic cadence, her skin flushed with the remnants of their fervent lovemaking. It was moments like these, when she was laid bare before him, her defenses stripped away, that he felt the true depth of his love for her.

Reaching out, he tenderly brushed a lock of hair away from her face, his touch feather-light against her heated skin. "You're beautiful," he murmured in his rich Irish brogue, his voice low and husky with desire. "Absolutely beautiful."

She stirred at his words, her eyelids fluttering open to reveal eyes heavy with satisfaction. A languid smile graced her lips as she shifted closer to him, seeking the warmth of his embrace. "And you,……." she whispered, her voice barely more than a breathless sigh, "…..are irresistible."

Cillian's heart swelled with affection at her words, a surge of emotion welling up inside him as he gazed down at her. How had he been so lucky, to find someone who understood him so completely, who loved him with such unbridled passion? He couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings for her, a love so fierce and all-consuming that it threatened to consume him whole.

Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin as if trying to capture the moment forever. "I love you," he murmured against her, his words a whispered vow of devotion. "More than anything in this world."

She melted against him at his declaration, her heart swelling with emotion as she felt the weight of his love pressing down upon her. "I love you too," she whispered in return, her voice choked with emotion. "More than words can say."

Author’s Notes:

I don’t know if you knew since the beginning but do you have any freaking idea how hard it is to not mention that Cillian wanted to propose especially in the beginning holy cow, man!

Dude I freaking love this fic, it’s so cute and fluffy until y’all be fuckin’

Y’all I didn’t even know this man had like 7 cars.. bougie as fuck but that’s okay! And yes I may have changed what he likes to eat for breakfast.

Any yes, I’m confused on how I missed 6 whole days…then again I’m swimming so probs that…sorry lolz

[pinguwrites]

Kinktober 2023 | Day Thirteen — Cillian Murphy + somnophilia, dd/lg

Pairing -> dark!cillian murphy x step-daughter!reader

Warnings -> DARK!!!, smut (minors dni), little girl/good girl nickname, somnophilia, daddy kink, non-con, stepcest, reader is implied to be underage (near college), don't read if you're not comfortable, infidelity, cheating/implied cheating, wet dream, fingering, masturbating

KINKTOBER 2023 MLIST

A/N: Sorry I didn't get this out on time, I was too tired to write it the other day.

Disclaimer: This is not a reflection of Cillian Murphy's actual life. This is completely separate and is not intended to harm him or his family in any way. DNI if you're a Yvonne hater. This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun. + quotation credit - The Sleeping Beauty (Briar Rose) by The Brothers Grimm

“. . . ‘Then he went on still further,’” Cillian read, his thumb loosely brushing the page of the book, “‘and all was so quiet that a breath could be heard, and at last he came to the tower, and opened the door into the little room where Briar Rose was sleeping. There she lay, so beautiful that he could not turn his eyes away; and he stooped down and gave her a kiss’ . . . Are you listening?”

You were not. You had fallen asleep a few minutes back, your chest slowly rising and falling by the rhythm of your breathing, little snores escaping until the noises finally died down and there was no sound but the closing of a book and the shuffling of the bedsheets. 

Cillian didn’t know why you always insisted on bedtime stories. You were almost an adult, about to go to college and mature in every way. You liked to debate with your friends, to discuss philosophy and life, and on occasion, you even divulged to him your fantasies, sexual ones — things you never talked about with your mother. He supposed it was something about the comfort, the nostalgia of childhood, to have someone you trusted tuck you into bed and kiss you goodnight.

Cillian brushed your hair out of your face and started to caress your cheek affectionately. He loved you, that was the one thing in this world he was sure about. His broken marriage with his wife, your mother, had long past the stages of blissful happiness, and the only thing keeping him in this unfaithful marriage was you, his stepdaughter, his very own sleeping beauty. 

He couldn’t imagine a future in which you were absent. These past ten years, where he had watched you grow up, learn and fail, and guide you to be the person you were now, felt the most important of his life. If you were gone, what was he supposed to do? Dwindle away his life with work? Pursue a fruitless romance with another woman? No. His life’s purpose was here, taking care of you, protecting you like no other man could do. 

You needed him, and as it turned out, he needed you.

You turned around in bed, instinctively moving your body near Cillian. He froze for a moment, but didn’t push you away, and instead pulled you closer, close enough so that your breasts (absolutely beautiful, he thought, she’s changed so much) were pressing up against his chest with one of your legs draped over his body. 

It was at that moment that he decided he was going to stay for a while longer, make sure that you were comfortable and at ease before returning to his own room. It was his job as your fatherly figure, no?

About thirty minutes had passed by in this position. Cillian was rubbing your back soothingly, leaving feathery kisses all over your face, when you suddenly let out a sound, a strange sound, one that he had never heard come out of your mouth before — a moan.

You were rubbing up against him. He could feel a dampness form on his pants. Is she having a wet dream? he thought, his face heating up.

What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just ignore it, not with the way he was gaining an erection.

Cillian felt sick on the inside. Dreams like that were normal, he wasn’t supposed to be getting hard at his daughter having one. But he couldn’t just leave either. What if you needed help? What if you woke up, confused about what was happening to you? He had to be there to explain it all.

What am I thinking? She’s almost eighteen, she knows what it is. 

But still, it was better to have an adult there. Just for comfort. 

He tried to stay as still as possible, but the little moans and whimpers got too much for him. You just looked so innocent, despite the situation. Your lips were slightly parted, your eyebrows creased, like an angel receiving pleasure for the first time.

“Fuck,” he breathed out. His erection was painful at this point, trying to escape from his pants but left to the confines of his morality. He had to keep it in. Yes. He couldn’t hurt his daughter because of his desires.

But as you kept rubbing—humping at this point—he reasoned that he could help you with yours. 

He lowered his hand to your stomach, hesitating for a moment, before deciding to go through with it. He slipped his fingers inside your pants, making sure to keep them outside your underwear.

You reacted when he pressed his thumb to your clit—a little shudder, one that encouraged him to keep going. How could it be wrong if you liked it? How could it be wrong if you needed it?

“Little girl,” he whispered. “Does that feel good? You like it when Daddy touches you like this, don’t you?”

Almost as if you could hear him, your pushed your body against his hand, craving more of his touch like a desperate little thing. The spaghetti strap of your top was slowly beginning to slip off, but Cillian didn’t bother pulling it back up. He was more focused on circling your clit, and palming his cock with his other hand.

“Good girl,” he praised. “Such a good, little girl.”

This night had turned out better than he expected. Maybe this didn't have to be the last one.

Taglist:

@rainyforest777

@thatwitchybitch420

@madeinuk

@gentyleman

@henrywintersdearestgirl

[thomaslittlegirl]

Hi! I really enjoy your writing! 🥹 I was wondering if you could consider writing about Cillian being the reader’s boyfriend/husband. He suddenly discovers the reader’s obsession with Tommy somehow, and he makes her dream come true by roleplaying as Tommy in bed. He’s rough and, of course, the complete opposite of how gentle Cillian usually is. 👀 Thank you! 🫶

im glad you like my works! if i remember correctly i have read a similar story, so i tried to make the plot as different as possible. anyway i hope you enjoy it, angel. 🩷

roleplay. cillian murphy — thomas shelby.

warnings; slaps, pussy spanking, creampie. age-gap.

𐙚

cillian was very private when it came to his work. he liked to keep things separate; work on the one hand, his family and personal stuff on the other. he didn't like the lines being blurred and the two things getting mixed up.

for this reason, he preferred his family not interacting with his work. he didn't really like close family watching his movies, it made him a little shy if he was one hundred percent honest.

that's why you kept a secret from him. when you were alone because he was going to some filming, a note or a photo shoot, you looked at the peaky blinders.

there was something that made you completely fierce... seeing your husband, your sweet and tender love being so hard, so bad. you couldn't explain it, you never really talked about it with anyone and it was something you would take to your grave.

how could you explain that it turned you on to watch the series your husband worked on? seeing cillian so out of context was just something else.

since the two became a couple, the relationship has always been based on a lot of love and mutual respect.

having a noticeable age difference, cillian saw you as someone he should protect, someone he should pamper and shower with kisses and affection.

the number of times your boyfriend had raised his voice at you could be counted on the fingers of one hand. the same when it came to getting angry. cillian didn't get angry with you, ever... and if he did, he would simply swallow his anger and solve everything with a sweet kiss on your lips.

he was not someone hard in bed either. although he fucked you like the gods, he was never mistreating you or being mean in the bedroom. he really liked the missionary when you had sex; that way he could see your face and kiss your tears of pleasure, that way he could be attentive to whatever your needs were. simple man.

he never pulled your hair, hit you nor called you degrading names... although some might escape his mouth, never too much.

that's why you felt that way when you saw thomas. the shelby man was really a threat; fucking any whore he came across, treating them as what they were, whores for his pleasure. the hard way he fucked them and how he made them scream with pleasure.

you felt like a teenage virgin, but it really made you wet. it was also weird because your boyfriend wasnt like that irl.

but your secret is revealed; one day you are too tired to notice that your eyes are closing and you simply let sleep overcome you.

the television in front of your bed continues playing the video while you sleep peacefully, hugging your boyfriend's pillow.

cillian arrives home late, a little exhausted from spending so much time outside doing the things he needed to do. the man takes off his leather shoes and begins to walk towards the bedroom, shuffling his feet.

when he opens the door to the room he gets a surprise. he recognizes his own voice, he recognizes that gangster accent that he knew how to use for a long time. his eyes go to the television and he watches as scenes from the peaky blinders play on the screen.

he feels out of place and a little confused too. you never looked at his works, you knew it made him a little shy... so why was the whole damn search based on videos of him, being thomas shelby? why were all the videos you had seen small frames of him playing the role of the gangster?

cillian laughed when he saw that the previously played videos were based on fight scenes, but his laughter was silenced when he saw all the clips of him fucking the women.

you had watched too many of those... for not saying almost all the scenes. his cheeks turned red and his gaze returned to your body; sleeping, hugging his pillow bathed in expensive perfume... as peaceful as a good girl, as if you hadn't used his hard and dirty sex scenes as white noise.

murphy suddenly understands it, or thinks he understands it.

cautiously, cillian turns off the television and walks to the bed. the light from the nightstand is not that high but it is enough to allow him to see you resting peacefully. murphy goes to the changing room and grabs a beret, a gray one. he takes a look in the mirror and smiles shyly; his heart beats desperately as if he were a child about to do some prank.

he comes back to your side.

the man positions himself on top of you, with both of his legs at your sides. murphy licks his lips and bends down to start leaving bites on your neck.

"cillian?" you ask, smiling as you smell the man's characteristic perfume.

"try again." he says, pressing his crotch against yours. you open your eyes, suddenly feeling horny.

"baby?" you insist.

"negative." he answers, his tongue running over your neck and part of your jaw. "maybe i should fuck you until all you can think about is me."

you listen to the accent which he speaks to you... and you understand it.

"tommy?"

"finally."

you blink several times trying to get used to the light on your nightstand. cillian lies on top of you, in his black pants, white shirt, and beret. a copy of him.

"am i still dreaming?" your question comes out in a whisper, confused. the man in front of you laughs.

"maybe. " his hand outlines one of your tits and then slowly lowers until it enters your underwear.

"what are you doing?" you ask, wetting your lips with your tongue.

"taking what belongs to me, playing with my favorite cunt." cillian's middle finger presses against your clit and then down to your entrance, testing with the tip of his fingers.

“cillian…” you gasp.

the man slaps your pussy. "wrong, whore. try again." you bite your lips at the burning you feel in your lower part and murmur again.

"tommy... it feels so good." thomas laughs. "it was supposed to be a punishment, but sluts like you like anything i give to them." you squeeze around nothing, dirty talk doing wonders to moisten your walls. "hands on the headboard." he orders, and you quickly obey.

thomas takes off his belt and uses it to tie your hands to the bed. the older man pulls down your underwear, delighting in having your sex naked in front of him. "now you're going to count for me." he indicates, and starts slapping your cunt. "come on, pet. count."

one.

two.

three.

four.

five.

when thomas finishes your pussy is red hot, burning and dripping, contracting in the air and begging to be filled.

"poor pussy." he laments, caressing your hip bones. "its so sore i don't know if it can handle daddy's cock." your eyes open.

"can handle it." you say quickly. "please."

shelby smiles and bends over, spitting on your pussy to make it even wetter. he smiles when he sees your face of pleasure, totally lost in the sensations, in the vulnerability.

the man spits into his hand and pumps his erection a little. his cock is about to explode, eager to paint your walls white with his warm semen.

he hits your pussy with the head of his cock a few times, teasing you until he finally sinks into your warm walls.

cillian would have waited for you to get used to it, but it's thomas who's fucking you, so he starts pounding you hard. "balls deep inside your cunnie." he says, as if you don't feel it in your gut.

he fucks you hard, hard and deep.

"god... god..." you murmur, and you feel a slap on your cheek.

"i didn't say you could talk, whore." he says, giving you another slap. "keep quiet, you're nothing but a cunt."

you clench painfully on his cock, biting your lips to try to shut up. it's useless, your moans escape alone.

"tommy..." he continues to fuck you like an animal, harshly raping your warm walls. the sound of your wetness and the slapping of the skins is driving him crazy.

thomas squeezes one of your tits and plays with your nipple.

"thomas is going to give you his hot cum in your beautiful pussy." he talks, caressing one of your cheeks.

you look at him, teary. feeling so good.

"open your mouth." he asks, giving you another slap. when you open your mouth, he spits into it. his saliva sliding down your throat feels as good as drinking water after spending days dehydrated.

thomas lets go of your tit to start rubbing your clit, making you cum around his cock. you squeeze so hard that the man is forced to cum too, filling you with his seed.

"there... there you go... daddy's hot milk for his princess."

cillian pulls out of you, watching as your abused pussy lets his cum flow from your insides.

the man caresses your cheek and unties your hands. your little pout asking for a kiss makes his heart melt and he grants it to you, kissing you sweetly.

"we have to do it again." you ask, and he laughs out loud.

"you're really crazy, my baby."

[mywritingonlyfans]

Cherished. // Cillian Murphy X Reader! (Fluff)

prompt: it's focused on cute dialogue that i think would be typical of being with him. it's all about how he thought about adopting a puppy to keep you company while you're away. (it's like me being extra goofy tbh)

words: 2,1K.

The room bathed in sunlight, a sight that would typically annoy you on any other day, but in that moment, it served as a gentle reminder of the incredible night before. The memory of it was so good that closing the curtains was the furthest thing from your mind. Now, with him lying beside you, mouth half open against the soft pillow, his hair a charming mess against his forehead, and those tousled curls seemed to beg for your touch - you couldn't resist running your fingers through them.

Nestled in-between his arms, you snuggled closer, wanting to be a part of him, feeling as though you were immersed in the very depths of his being. The mingling of your scents brought a sense of comfort and familiarity, and you found yourself hoping not to disturb his peaceful slumber; you simply yearned to be close to him.

A shiver ran down your spine when you felt the cold material of his necklace brushing against your skin, entwining with a similar one you wore. Despite the sunny day, there was still a lingering chill in the air, almost enticing you to stay wrapped up beside Cillian.

Your fingers traced down his torso, gently pressing against each naked part that was visible to you, until your touch reached the hem of his underwear. The softness of his morning skin left an impression on you, and you tried to memorize the sensation.

His body radiated warmth against yours, making you wish that every day could be like this - no worries about the months he'd be away filming, just the joy of basking in his presence on a lazy morning. You noticed a small trail of drool on his pillow, and as you gazed at him, his long eyelashes were resting softly on his under eyes, and he had a faint hint of redness on his nose, you couldn't help but feel a rush of affection. His whole face seemed to beckon for a kiss, and you leaned in to place a tender one on his cheek, knowing he'd feel your love even in his sleep.

Tracing your fingers across his cheekbone, gently moving down to his nose, you counted each little brown mark that adorned his skin, trying to etch the sight of him into your mind before he boarded the plane and flew away from you once again.

The days leading up to his departure were always bittersweet, filled with an intensity that left both of you yearning to spend every precious moment together. You knew that the upcoming days would test your longing for each other to the extreme, and while you cherished the closeness, the impending separation weighed heavily on your heart. It felt selfish to want him to stay, but you couldn't help but wish for more time together.

Shaking those thoughts away, you considered leaning in to kiss him, but his face looked so peaceful, and his breathing was so gentle that you decided against it. Wrapping the sheet around your naked body, you rose from the bed, only to feel Cillian's arms pull you back to his side. You chuckled, realizing he had been awake this whole time.

"Keep starin' at me, little pea. It's creepy, but a bit cute too, y'know," his voice was raspy and deep, the accent mixed with sleep making it all the more endearing.

"I wasn't staring, I was admiring; there's nothing creepy 'bout it," you said playfully, laying your face on his chest, relishing the comforting vibrations of his laughter. "Not my fault you're a cute sleeper."

He grinned, his fingers gently playing with your hair as he replied, "Well, I'll take that as a compliment then, my little admirer." His lips pressed against your forehead in a tender kiss, and you felt your heart flutter. It was moments like this that made the impending distance even harder to bear, but for now, you were content to savor the warmth of his embrace and the love that enveloped you both.

Cillian was the shy type, and when he was with you, it could get even worse. Yet, you were one of the few people who had the power to make him blush, and you adored watching his cheeks turn pink while his lovely eyes briefly drifted from yours; just like they did right now.

As you adjusted the sheet to cover your breasts, which had fallen during your previous actions, he buried his face in your hair. "No need to hide it from me, we both know I've seen them several times," he teased, his voice filled with affection.

"No, Cill," you mumbled between laughter, hiding your face in his neck.

"I'm dead serious, I love 'em," he squeezed you, pulling you closer and placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder.

"Cill, stop," you playfully protested.

"Alright, only because you look like you're about to explode, my embarrassed thing," he replied with a soft chuckle.

"How sweet," you mumbled, feeling sleep starting to take over you once again in the comfort of him.

"Cill, babe?" he purred, his voice full of fondness. "Can we get up? Have some tea, maybe go for a walk or do something fun?"

With his eyes still closed, he didn't move, but he pressed your body tighter into his. "Why? Here's just nice, I get to snuggle you and everything," he murmured contentedly.

He kept a sweet smile on his face, and as you were dying at the sight of him, he opened his eyes, making you realize you hadn't answered him yet. "It's just that the days seem to be longer when we're doing something other than being in bed," you explained, feeling a little shy yourself.

He understood that, nodding in agreement and holding your hand as a sign that he was willing to get up. "Okay, breakfast then, lil' one," he said affectionately, a playful sparkle in his eyes. He would certainly do anything for you.

….

Cillian appeared restless in the kitchen, more so than usual. From minute to minute, he checked the time, even though he made sure to pay attention to his surroundings.

"Babe?" he turned to you, looking like a lost puppy. He had just set the table. "Here, try this," you said, offering him a spoonful of scrambled eggs, supporting your hand below to avoid any spills.

He tasted it, nodding in approval. "It's good," he said, pulling the spoon out of your hand and giving you a sweet kiss.

You smiled and sat at the table while he fetched the tea kettle. He filled both cups, which were already filled with fresh chamomile tea. As you thought he would finally sit down in front of you - where his chair was - he pulled it out and placed it next to yours. It was a simple gesture, yet enough to make you feel a tingling mess inside. With legs rubbing and shoulders colliding, he positioned the two dishes side by side, allowing you both to start eating.

Occasionally, he would rest his head on your shoulder, rubbing his hair against your cheek. You would pause from eating to kiss the top of his head, eliciting a lovely sigh from him. There were no words to describe how much you loved these cozy moments at home with him, memories you would cherish in the days to come.

"I'm full," you said breathlessly. This time, you leaned your face on his shoulder for him to kiss.

You never ate much in the morning. "It's alright, you can finish your tea, though," he murmured. You nodded, appreciating his thoughtfulness. He would eat whatever you had left, as he always did, and you would savor your drink together, enjoying each other's company in the comfort of your home.

Cillian seemed uneasy still. Clearly worried about the passing time, yet you didn’t think much of it. He wore a mischievous smile on his face. Until a sound irritated you by taking you out of the good trance of the moment. "The bell," he announced, taking another sip from his cup.

"Okay," you replied reluctantly, not wanting to leave his side. "I'll be right back."

As you opened the door, you were greeted by a friendly girl holding a big box. She pointed to your house, confirming if it was indeed yours. Perplexed, you confirmed, and she handed you the light blue pack with a few small holes. On the side, it was written in beautiful handwriting, 'to Cillian and you.' Before you could turn the box around to inspect it further, the girl stopped you, urging you to be careful. Thanking her, you watched her leave with a cheerful goodbye, leaving that slightly moving thing in your hands.

"Cillian?!"

He came over, a big smile on his pink lips, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "C'mon, open it, or do you want me to cover your eyes and ask you to guess what it is?"

Your face mirrored his enthusiasm, and you sat on the floor, him following suit. "I’m sure you'll love him, it's the cutest!" he exclaimed, growing even more thrilled as he helped you remove the lid from the box.

You were already excited, but he seemed even more eager. His hopeful eyes studied your reaction, as if there was a slight chance you wouldn't like it.

"Oh, Cill," you sighed. Inside the box was a puppy with light cream-colored fur and dark eyes like blueberries. It wore a golden collar with a pendant similar to yours. "I love him." You took the little furball into your arms, and it playfully tried to bite the string of your necklace. You gently removed the pup's mouth from the necklace with Cillian's help, and you couldn't help but laugh at the adorable attempt. "I loved the leash idea too, thanks love."

He beamed, his eyes glowing with delight. "I ordered a similar one for him from the same store," he said, pointing to the necklace he was wearing, identical to yours and his. "It's like we're a little family, isn't it? We've always talked about wanting the family to grow."

You placed the puppy beside you, leaning over to give Cillian a quick kiss. "So, it's like a first step then?" you asked softly, not wanting to overstep any boundaries, though you've had similar conversations countless times before, during long car rides or just before falling asleep.

"Yep, if that's okay with you," he confirmed as the puppy tried to jump onto his lap. You couldn't blame the little one; you felt like doing the same. Your smile couldn't have been bigger.

"That's more than okay with me," you hugged him, including the puppy in the embrace. "God, I'm more than okay with it," you confessed, feeling a rush of electrifying happiness that left you feeling elated. He didn't look any different; the elation was evident in his eyes too.

Cillian giggled, showering your face with multiple kisses until you both ended up on the floor, with the puppy joining in, barking joyfully. He placed the little furball on his belly, patting its head.

"You'll take care of her while I'm away, right, little one?" Cillian asked the puppy, holding its snout toward him.

The puppy seemed to purr, as if saying 'yes,' and Cillian wrinkled his nose at the sight. He looked at you, signaling to see if you had noticed, and you smiled brightly, nodding to confirm.

Biting your bottom lip, you found the entire scene the cutest thing in the world, and the name for the puppy came to your mind. "Mind if I name him?"

"Nah, of course not. What do you have in mind, lil’ one?"

You couldn't help but contain a laugh. "Cill."

"What?" His voice pitched higher in amusement. "No way," he laughed, knowing there was no other name for the puppy but his own.

You held the tiny pup, turning it to face Cillian. "See, that's little Cill."

"Just like lil' one?" You nodded, remembering the silly nickname he had given you since you first met. Though he wasn't that tall, he had the perfect height for you to snuggle into his chest and feel his calming breath, gradually making you feel at ease. Once you mentioned this to him, he never let it slip his mind.

"Yes, exactly," you hugged the furry bundle against your chest. "That's little Cill for now on." He was happy with your happiness, and he could feel the warmth spreading in his chest.

As you got up, with the little one still in your arms, in a gentle reminder that you wouldn't let go so easily and your focus was entirely devoted to the tiny one, Cillian felt his cheeks flush with a smile, knowing that he would soon feel jealous of your new bond.