#mentions of the rest of the murphy

[chompe-diem]

pick a thing that i want so badly a normal amount and am never going to get

[alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer]

with 911 lone star filming again, just a reminder that ronen rubinstein used his fan base to raise money for israel and then attacked pro-palestinian fans.

[disneytva]

Phineas And Ferb New York Comic-Con Panel Gets The Band Back Together To Discuss The Upcoming Revival

Today at New York Comic Con, Disney Branded Television officially revealed the voice cast for the highly anticipated new season of “Phineas and Ferb.” For the first time in over a decade, co-creators and executive producers Dan Povenmire and Jeff “Swampy” Marsh reunited with the rest of the beloved cast at their NYCC panel today, which also included an exclusive sneak peek of the new season.

Photos by 📷Galileo908

Phineas And Ferb panel was packed with the whole cast and crew on stage as the panel showcases interviews when the show debuted all the way back in 2008.

Vincent Martella calls the show “the most important thing” he’s ever worked on.

Ashley Tisdale mentions that she's very joyful to be here with the fans after giving birth just 6 weeks ago.

Caroline Rhea mentions that the series is one of her favorites to ever be a part of. Rhea jokes "Don't tell Sabrina"

Dee Bradley Baker says that the show has been “perfect” since the start. "there's timelessness to it, i feel it will make it go on forever"

Alyson Stoner recalls that multiple people go up to her and quote Isabella in different languages all the time

Dave Errigo Jr gets emotional on the opportunity of joining the Phineas & Ferb family all way back in 2018 with "The Phineas and Ferb Effect" from "Milo Murphy's Law"

Vincent Martella jokingly says that he has been spiraling since the show ended even he had no idea if the show would come back.

Candace is Ashley Tisdale's favorite character beacuse it allows her to be "crazy"

As previously reported, Dan & Swampy confirm that the revival takes place one year later during the duo’s next summer vacation.

Povenmire & Swampy mention that “Things are elevated”. They tease the incorporation of new stories, dynamics and ideas that they couldn’t quite figure out how to do them on the original run.

Dan Povenmire & Jeff Swampy Marsh tease that the music for Season 5 has been their favorite so far.

Dan Povenmire & Jeff Swampy Marsh show a clip of the first episode of the revival. The clip starts with Phineas, Ferb and the gang on their last day of school.

Doof spent the last year being good, now he’s evil again

“We’re Getting The Band Back Together.” is one of Dan and Swampy's favorite episodes because "it’s so thematically rich."

When asked about why there are 104 days of summer vacation within the show. "Nobody checked. It just sounded right" - The whole cast and crew confess

During the final question Dan and Swampy acknowledge Candace’s flip phone. They agree that it’s obsolete but say that at the time the show was created everyone had one.

Swampy says that the work he and Dan Povenmire have done on the show have made him feel incredibly lucky. Swampy mentions that he would love to continue working on the show forever.

Ashley Tisdale closes the panel screaming “Mom, Phineas and Ferb are making another season!” in Candace's voice.

 “Phineas and Ferb” Season 5 is scheduled to debut next year on Disney Channel and Disney+.

[alexaloraetheris]

On the subject of being your own zookeeper, I've been trying it out and it WORKS. One of the obvious ways is to ask 'Have I watered/fed/medicated the beast?' and take care of those needs, and it's great, but another thing I haven't seen mentioned is the Stressors.

So, being a bio grad student, means I also know actual zoologists and zookeepers. And talking with one blew my third eye open. One of the questions the zookeeper always, ALWAYS needs to keep an eye on is 'What is stressing the beast out, and how can I remove it?'

In human terms, it's basically 'This thing is causing me a minor amount of stress, but stress is cumulative, so how many small stressors can I remove so the Big Stress doesn't drain so much of my energy?'

Say you're stressing about an exam/interview/visitors. There's ways to prepare for that, but before you get to that point you also need to look out for small stressors that add to the overall feeling of stress, and the goal is to reduce them FIRST.

Example: You have a big test and it's the day you need to take it. You are already baseline anxious about taking it, and the goal here is to stress as little as possible on the way to school.

You can't eat breakfast because you're late/nauseous? Keep small energy bars in your purse, snack on the way. Gives you a bit of sugar for your brain, doesn't take up time and always on hand. Haven't had time for coffee? Caffeine pills/espresso chocolates. It's cold/raining? Ditch your sneakers and wear rain boots and a warm coat, worry about fashion later. I even carry around a foldable cushion so I can sit while I wait for the bus without freeting my butt off. Haven't had time to brush your teeth? Gum, mints, breath fresheners. Nervous? Fidget toys. Worried about losing an umbrella? Get one of those plastic sleeves so you can put it in your purse even if it's wet. Too damn hot? Mini fan, or even a folding paper fan. Noise level grating on your nerves? Silicone earplugs, or noise-cancelling earbuds/headphones. (I have a big purse I carry all this stuff in so I don't forget, a blessing with ADHD)

Things like that. Small things to mitigate the microstressors so you arrive to your destinations with as little misery as possible.

Apply that to the rest of your life. You have to eat vegetables for your health but you hate them so damn much? Find a way to prepare them in a way that doesn't make you gag. I just throw a bag of frozen pre-chopped veggies in the pan and then throw in spices I like. If I can taste the vegetables in my veggie stir-fry, I haven't seasoned them enough.

Make little medicine bag, the size of your palm. I carry nasal degongestant spray, ibuprofen, eye drops, mini bug spray, a pad and a tampon, a few alcohol wipes and hand cream. Those tiny tester tubes of hand cream? A godsend. Adjust to your needs.

I hate washing dishes. Back hurts and my skin literally peels off my hands from the dryness. Get a bar stool and sit, wear WELL FITTED dish gloves. I got those that go all the way up my elbows in S size and now my kitchen doesn't look like a disaster.

Vacuuming is a pain? Handheld vacuum cleaner you can push around for 15 minutes every day. Expensive? Get a broom and a good dustpan. I emphasize GOOD because it does make a difference. Back hurts if you bend over? Get the dustpan with a long handle.

It's amazing how much difference it makes. Neutralize Murphy's law. A bunch of small stuff going wrong will absolutely tank your energy you need for the big stuff.

TL;DR Identify the things that cause you daily stress, find easy ways to neutralize them. Save your energy for the big stuff. There is nothing noble in suffering. Take care of your zoo animal.

And if you need it, ask for help. Zookeepers often work in pairs.

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

YOUNG AGAIN

Pairing - Cillian Murphy x fem!reader

Summary - You’re about to be working alongside Cillian Murphy. He wants to show you what costars do behind the scenes.

Warnings - Noncon, dubcon, p in v, rough sex, oral (f! receiving), manipulation, blackmailing, dark smut.

Word count - 1.3k +

Notes - Every time I try to do a drabble it goes over 1k grrr. also i love pathetic men that whine.

The lights were still on, large windows showcasing the beauty of the city at night, the late night budget soap opera running on the television show, your clothes ripped on you. The air was pressed out of your lungs like a deflated ball by the way his body laid on top of yours. 

“Cill…” you begged pathetically, your mouth half pressed into the fabric of the sheets. 

He was kissing your neck, his front pressed against your back as your legs dangled off the end of the bed. Your ass was perfectly rested at the edge of the mattress, his hips planted directly against yours. You could feel his erection hump against your core, you whined and thrashed your body against him, but you were helpless in this drunken state. 

“Shush…” He hummed loudly, his teeth nipping at your skin. 

A few hours ago, Cillian was a perfect gentleman. He had asked you to meet up for dinner since you’d be costaring in an indie film together. You could say it was going to be your big break, you’ve gotten a lot of recognition recently but this was going to be your first big role. Not to mention the first time working directly alongside an A-list actor. 

You were both in London, so you decided to meet up at a secluded restaurant, which started with a simple dinner, but ended up with continuous rounds of drinks. The venue was dimmed, low in guests and seductive from the jazz music playing. 

It wasn’t until your fourth drink when Cillian started getting a bit more handsy. You must have been giving him the wrong impression, Cillian was known to be a good guy. So you called in for the night early because you didn’t know what else to do to deescalate the situation. Which led to Cillian trying to convince you otherwise, a bit too desperately, to keep the night going. 

However, he caved in and said he’d take you back to your hotel. You didn’t expect him to come into your room however. Here you were now, crushed underneath him as you struggled to find air. 

“We’re going to fuck” Cillian grunted as his hands struggled to undo his belt. 

You shook your head underneath him. Everytime you’d plant your hands on the mattress for some grounding, he’d shove your elbows back down. This is not how the night was meant to go, this wasn’t the man Cillian was meant to be. 

“You should be grateful… I’m going to teach you a lot, you know?” Cillian laughed softly as he successfully freed his belt and his trousers gradually fell to his knees. 

“Cillian no please!” You begged for mercy before his hand viciously shoved your head into the mattress

“You’ll take what I give you if you want to keep your job…” He spat as he freed his throbbing length. “You’d hate for me to ruin your career that’s hardly started, wouldn’t you?” He toyed as he lifted his upper body, a wicked grin on his lips. 

You sobbed silently underneath him as he yanked up your short ripped dress to your hips. His hands caressed your soft skin on your ass, gently smacking both cheeks just to watch them jiggle. As he stroked himself, his hand rested on your lower back, skeptical that you’d try something stupid. 

“Stay down, okay? That’s an order” Cillian commanded sternly as he slowly dropped to his knees. 

He pulled your thong down with two fingers, grinning at the damp patch on the fabric. You mewled when he stroked his fingers against your lips. Slowly, his digits ran up and down your entrance, your hips gently squirmed around, but picked up when he entered a digit inside of you. His coated finger slipped out of your tight canal and he brought his finger to his nose and inhaled deeply. 

“You smell so fucking sweet… You taste just as good?” Cillian smirked before he sucked his finger whole. He moaned in his mouth like he was at Christmas lunch. “Fuuuck baby, you always taste this devine?” Cillian asked with a cocked eyebrow. 

You didn’t reply, you couldn’t reply, your body was in shock as you laid stiff on the soft bed, staring at the television to distract yourself, which he only turned on to drown out your cries. He quickly took his shirt off of his heated pale body. “I need a better taste” he groaned as his hands gripped onto your thighs. 

Cillian ate you like a starved lion. His teeth nipped at your sensitive flesh whilst his cold tongue rolled over your nerves. The shock of pleasure made your hands grip into the sheets as if you were holding on for dear life. Cillian lapped your sweetness out for ages, as you moaned into the bed, too humiliated to let him hear your sweet sounds. When your eyes unexpectedly rolled back, head snapped back and back arched, you saw stars as you came hard. You couldn’t hide your screams of pleasure anymore. Cillian moaned into your cunt as he ate out every drop that shamefully dripped from you. 

Slowly, Cillian climbed back on top of you and lined his member to your gushing entrance. His lower face was damp and sticky with your fluids. To which he shamelessly pressed against the side of your heated face. 

“See, this will be fun. We’ll be able to relief our exhausted bodies every day. Destress each other whenever we need to. A lot of costars are fuck buddies, you clearly haven’t been in the industry for long” Cillian explained as he slowly thrusted in his size. 

Your breath was stuck in your throat as you clenched around him. He couldn’t help but to moan out dramatically at the sensation. 

“I need you to understand that this is normal… You don’t need to be so overwhelmed darling, do you hear me?” His head tilted and eyebrow cocked at you. His cock was twitching inside of you, desperate to plummet in and out of you. 

“Yes Cillian” you answered timidly, he sighed in satisfaction and patted your rear. 

“Who knows, try your luck and maybe we could take this further…” He chuckled as he nuzzled your face. Because that’s exactly what you wanted, a relationship with a man old enough to be your father. 

You whined out again, his cock stretched your walls painfully. It has been a long time since you’ve had sex. That or he was a lot bigger than you’d ever experienced. 

“Tell me you want to do this, that you want me…” Cillian exhaled, you weren’t sure if he was begging or ordering you to do so. His tone was a mixture of both. 

“I want you” you gasped as he fully buried his length inside of you.

“Fucking knew you were a dirty whore wanting my cock” he mumbled, his hands firmly on your hips as he lifted himself up. 

He grounded his feet to the carpet and mercilessly began to pound himself into you. He pulled your hips up, your knees now rested on the bed. So you were face down, ass up. Cillian grunted, his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw clenched so badly that he could chip a tooth. He could feel his cock twitch like vibrations, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt a cunt this good. 

“Your cunt is squeezing me so tight, I won’t fucking last a minute” Cillian whined, pathetically. 

He stood true to his words. By the time the clock ticked over to the next minute, Cillian’s chest fell forward and hips locked as his ropes of semen shot deep inside of you. You were panting out, drooling onto the bed as he groaned out loudly. The both of you fell onto the bed together. 

Quickly he pulled you onto his chest as you were still mindless. He gasped out for air and said the first thing on his mind, “you make me feel young again.”

Cillian hummed and tilted his head to kiss you, slowly, passionately, romantically. Ironically, it was the first time he kissed you on the lips. You laid there, exhausted, confused and frightened. He brushed your knotted hair to the side and smiled softly to you. 

“By the way… I’m staying the night” Cillian spoke, his voice still breathless but stern on the idea.

[gothcsz]

Purgatory | Javier Peña x Fem!Reader x Fem!OC | ~7.6k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: A threesome between you, your bestie and Javier Peña.

Tags: smut, no plot all porn, bi!reader, f/f/m threesome, light dom/sub vibes, dirty talk (javi and his filthy mouth), oral (f&m), creampie, unprotected p in v sex (you know the spiel. be safe), a small age gap (very vague but javi is older than them), the ladies 69, cock worship, a hint of anal play, cum eating, riding, costumes are kinda involved, JAVI IN THE DEA JACKET OHHHH MYYY—, little to no physical descriptions of reader or oc, javi speaking spanish because i fucking love it, olivia murphy mention (javi would not willingly be at a halloween party lbr), no use of y/n, beta'd to the point where i think there's still mistakes, as usual other shit i'm probably forgetting (lmk what i missed).

A/N: halloween + women + javi p = a very happy kat 🖤 this is one of those works that i really just wrote for me, but am dedicating to @almostempty because she gave us the really hot and sexy ffm birthday threesome of our dreams and i think about honey quite literally all the time 🥵 this is also for all my bi readers out there 💋 i hope you guys like it mwahhh gracias nenitas (gn) 🖤

The air is thick with fog and the pulsing rhythm of bass as you and your best friend strut through the front door hand in hand, slipping into the sea of costumed bodies at the party.

You’re the devil tonight, red latex hugging your every curve, leaving little to the imagination. Your horns glint in the low, ambient light, and the faint glow of your devilish tail sways just above the edge of your barely-there skirt.

Next to you, your best friend, the angel, contrasts perfectly. Her white wings shimmer, the fluffy halo hovering above her head, while her outfit is just as scandalous as yours— tight, sheer, and angelic in all the wrong ways.

You’ve always been a killer combo, and tonight, you’ve turned it up to eleven.

The two of you catch eyes as the fog machine puffs up clouds around your legs, laughing due to already being tipsy from the pregame at your apartment.

You’ve been playing this game since the night you hooked up with her. It had awakened something inside the both of you, some insatiable thrill, and tonight, you’re both ready to explore it further.

After a few more drinks and some obligatory dancing, your eyes start to scan the crowd, teasing and flirting with guys in passing, each one trying to make their move but none holding your interest.

You feel her breath on your neck as she leans in close, whispering about the bartender from your favorite local spot. He’s always had that flirtatious vibe, and you’ve both fantasized about him more than once.

He seems like a viable candidate, until then he walks in. The man with the neatly trimmed mustache, older and far too sharp for this crowd.

His dark jacket, marked with DEA in bold letters, swings open to reveal a soft pink shirt, unbuttoned just enough to showcase his strong neck and collarbones.

He’s different, you think. Out of place but in all the right ways.

You nudge your friend, biting your lip and pointing discreetly. “Him,” you whisper, giggling softly as you watch her eyes flick toward him. Her gaze sharpens, lips curling into a smirk.

The lighting in the room casts deep shadows across his face, defining his cheekbones, his jawline—making him look like a fucking dream.

“He’s older,” she murmurs, her voice low with excitement, “but he’s exactly what we need.” 

You can’t help but nod, your stomach fluttering. You know it’s the chase that excites both of you.

“How should we do this?” You ask, finishing the rest of your drink in one smooth gulp.

She doesn’t answer right away, her eyes fixed on the handsome stranger across the room. His broad shoulders stretch against the fabric of his jacket, the way he stands having him look like he’s here on business instead of pleasure, and that only makes him more enticing.

Her lips purse slightly in thought, then her tongue peeks out, wetting her bottom lip. “One at a time,” she finally says, “Don’t want to overwhelm him.”

You arch a brow, leaning in a little closer. “He doesn’t look like the type to get overwhelmed so easily,” you counter, eyes trailing over him again. 

“But have you seen us tonight?” 

She’s leaning into you as she asks, her fruity perfume and the feel of her soft skin brushing against yours is so mesmerizing that for a moment, you forget all about the man.

“We do look pretty fucking hot,” you agree, eyes flicking over her curves in that skimpy angel costume. She giggles, a sweet, feminine sound, and scrunches her nose in that cute way she does when she’s feeling playful.

“Exactly,” she doubles down, her gaze still locked on the stranger. “I’ll go warm him up. Then you can come over.”

“How will I know when?”

Her mouth pulls into a slow, knowing smile, and she gives you a wink that feels like a promise. “Trust me,” she purrs, pulling a tube of lip gloss from the tight neckline of her top. The motion draws your eyes to her chest, where the soft swell of her breasts pushes against the fabric, nearly spilling out.

She rolls the gloss over her lips, making sure every inch is shiny and perfect, and then presses them together with a soft, wet sound that makes your mouth go dry. “You’ll know.”

The simple act makes you want to pull her closer, taste the sweetness on her lips yourself. But that’s for later.

“Alright, go get him, angel,” you murmur as you give her a playful smack on the ass while she walks away.

You watch her hips sway, the curve of her body undeniable in that outfit as she crosses the room with purpose. The closer she gets to him, the more seductive her movements become.

You watch her place her hands behind her back when she reaches him, her posture coy and her smile devilish. You can’t hear what she says, but you don’t need to. His attention is locked on her, his dark eyes raking over her figure, intrigued, just as you hoped. 

The party around you blurs into the background, the music muffled, the chatter of voices fading into static. Your focus narrows, locked on the scene unfolding across the room where she works her magic on the handsome stranger.

She’s doing a damn good job too. You watch as she leans in close to him, her body language playful yet suggestive, the way her fingers trail ever so lightly over his arm, her lips in a flirtatious grin.

She arches her back just slightly to showcase her cleavage, flipping her hair over her shoulder in one smooth, practiced motion. That’s when her eyes meet yours—subtle, but intentional, with a glint that sends a jolt straight through you.

That’s your cue.

Your heart races, a wicked smile creeping onto your lips as you straighten your posture and fix your tits in the slutty red top, making sure they’re sitting just right—nice and perfect.

Your heels click against the floor with each confident step as you walk towards them. There’s a rhythm to it, a sway to your hips that mimics the way she had made her approach.

Up close, he’s even sexier than you imagined. The moody lighting casts sensual hues of purple, green, and orange that only help him appear more attractive.

His chiseled jaw, curved nose, high cheekbones. He looks too good to be true. 

Then his dark brown eyes lock onto you, and there’s a flicker in them—hunger. Like he could bare his teeth and eat you whole.

It sends a shiver down your spine. You can feel the weight of his gaze trailing down your body, lingering on your exposed skin, appreciating every inch of you. 

She flashes you a knowing smile when you sidle up to her. “Javier, this is my other half,” she introduces you, your name falling from her lips sweetly. 

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” You can’t help the way your cheeks heat up, feeling giddy.

“This doesn’t seem like your scene, agent.” You purr, eyeing his jacket, “Not a very festive costume, either.”

“Because it isn’t a costume.” He cocks his head to the side, “I just got off work. Had to come by to pick up my niece, Olivia, but it looks like I just missed her.” He licks his lips, “I was on my way out when my guardian angel decided to make an appearance.”

Your friend giggles and you bite your lip. Despite the loud music and other distractions, his voice is so smooth and velvety.

“Wow. A real agent.” Your eyes gleam as you lean in just a bit, close enough to catch the scent of his cologne. “Maybe you should perform a cavity search. Make sure we’re not hiding anything.”

You watch his reaction, a chuckle rumbling low in his throat as he shakes his head.

She sidles up closer, her hand brushing his arm ever so lightly. “Think we could get off with a warning, agent?”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and you can’t help but imagine what that mouth would feel like on you, how those hands—so strong, so capable looking— would feel gripping your hips as he fucked you.

“Looks like I’ve got myself some trouble tonight.” His eyes sweep over your costumes, taking in every detail, from the way your devil horns glint in the light to the way her angel wings shimmer with every movement. “Heaven and Hell. Guess I’m stuck in purgatory, unsure of where I’m headed.”

You exchange a glance with your friend, the two of you silently playing off each other’s energy, feeding into the wicked thrill coursing through both of you.

Her lips curl into a flirtatious smile, her voice as sweet as candy. “We could help you find your way…” she teases, sliding a delicate finger down his chest. 

You can’t help but smirk, loving how the muscles in his chest tense beneath her touch. “Let us be the angel and devil on your shoulders tonight,” you coo, stepping in on his other side, close enough that your body brushes against his. The heat of him is intoxicating, making your skin prickle with excitement.

“And what’s the catch?”

She leans in, her lips almost brushing his ear as she whispers, “The catch?” She feigns innocence, acting like she doesn’t understand his question, letting her fingers toy just beneath the open collar of his shirt, teasing his skin with the softest of touches. 

“There is no catch, handsome. We just want to have some fun.” Your hand grazes the hard line of his jaw, feeling the faint stubble that tickles your fingertips.

“Fun, huh?” his voice drops lower, rougher, enjoying the subtle touches the both of you are giving him right now. “Then let’s get out of here.”

Your mouth presses hungrily against your friend’s, kissing feverishly, like you can’t get enough. Her lips are soft yet demanding, and every time she pulls away for air, you’re right back on her, kissing down her jaw as Javier’s truck speeds down the dimly lit road.

The flickering street lamps that zoom by create an almost rhythmic flash, illuminating the scene in quick bursts—hot, stolen glimpses of skin, hands, lips.

Your fingers are buried in her hair, pulling her closer as her tongue slides against yours, the wet heat between your mouths making your body hum. The two of you are lost in each other, your bodies pressed together as if the world outside doesn’t even exist.

But it does. And Javier is watching.

You steal a glance toward the front, catching his eyes in the rearview mirror. You can see the strain in his jaw, the way his fingers grip the steering wheel a little too tightly.

“Spread your legs, diablita,” Javier’s voice breaks through the thick fog of lust, so smooth and commanding. It’s like a spell the way your thighs part for him, instinctual, as if he controls every muscle in your body with just his voice.

You expose the red lace of your underwear, a matching set to the white one she has adorning her hips as well. You two were planning to end the night with someone in between you.

She pulls back just enough to look at you, her breath heavy, lips swollen and glistening from your kisses. Her eyes are glazed over, lost in the same spell that grips you.

She turns her head slightly, locking eyes with Javier in the mirror, and you can feel the intensity of their silent conversation, like something unspoken passes between them. It’s hot, so fucking hot, the way she looks at him, the way his brown eyes hold her there.

“Now touch her, angel.”

Her hand moves slowly, almost teasingly, fingers skimming down your body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. She’s taking her time, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Her thumb brushes over your stiffened nipple, causing you to moan softly and she smirks.

She finally reaches the soft skin of your inner thigh, and your breath hitches as her fingers stroke gently, sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

“Like this?” she asks, her voice breathless but playful, eyes returning to Javier in the mirror.

He grunts softly, “Exactly like that.” His eyes flick back to you, and the intensity of his gaze makes your body heat up even more, your hips subtly lifting toward her touch.

“Sexy little set you’re wearing,” Javier muses, “I can only assume our angel has on the same pair?”

Your gaze meets your friend’s, and you both bite your lips, exchanging a flirty look. Slowly, you both nod.

Javier hums in content, his eyes dark and hooded. “Fuckin’ perfect,” he murmurs, “Push it to the side, I wanna see her pretty cunt.”

The command is directed at her, and the second it’s given, she’s already moving. She’s never this submissive, always one to take charge, at least with you, so seeing her so eager and obedient to this man definitely has your clit twitching out of excitement.

Her fingers hook around the flimsy fabric of your thong, and with a quick, teasing tug, she pulls it to the side. The cool air hits your wetness, and you can’t help but let out a soft gasp as you’re exposed to both of them.

Javier licks his lips, his gaze honing in on the sight of your messy folds, the lust in his eyes almost overwhelming.

He shifts slightly in his seat, his cock straining against his pants, painfully hard as he takes in the tantalizing view before him. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath, “go on, spread her open. Get her nice and wet for us.”

The way he says us sends a fresh wave of slick arousal dripping from you.

She doesn’t hesitate. Her fingers move with purpose, sliding between your seam and spreading you wide, showing off every inch of you to Javier’s hungry gaze. Her touch is delicate yet firm, and you shudder as she smears your sticky arousal across your sensitive labia.

Your head falls back against the seat, your breath coming in shallow gasps, lips parted as soft moans spill freely from your mouth.

She leans in closer, her lips brushing against your neck as her thumb presses down on your clit, driving you wild. “You’re so wet,” she whispers, her voice breathy, sending shivers down your spine. Her fingers barely dip inside you before sliding back to spread your lips wide once again.

Javier lets out a low groan from the front seat, his eyes glued to the sight of her playing with your cunt. His hand moves to his crotch, palming himself through his pants, his desire barely contained.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he breathes, his voice rough with restraint. His gaze moves between your parted lips, the slight tremble in your thighs, and finally to the road so he doesn’t kill you all.

“She is so pretty…” your friend adds her voice to the mix, halting her slow, torturous movements. The sudden lack of friction has you whining softly, your hips involuntarily shifting, chasing her touch. 

But then, instead of returning her fingers to your throbbing, wet center, she brings them to her lips, her eyes on yours. You watch, utterly transfixed, as her tongue darts out to kitten lick the slick coating her fingers, tasting you. The sound she makes—a soft hum of satisfaction, like she’s tasting the sweetest thing—sends another wave of ecstasy crashing through you.

“And she tastes so good,” she moans softly, as though she’s sharing a secret, and the way she lingers on her words makes your breath stutter.

Her gaze flicks to Javier, dark and mischievous as she leans forward slightly, her slick fingers shining with your arousal. “Do you want to try her?”

Javier’s jaw tightens at her question, his eyes narrowing as his desire for you both becomes palpable. The car slows as he nears a red light, giving him a moment to glance at her hand, then at you, before his gaze finally returns to her lips.

There’s a beat of silence, the only sound in the car are the heavy breaths coming from all three of you. 

Without a word, Javier leans over from the driver’s seat, his eyes locked on her fingers as he takes her wrist, pulling her hand toward him. His lips part as he slips her fingers into his mouth, his tongue flicking out to taste you from her skin. The groan that escapes him is guttural, a sound that makes your already wet pussy clench with anticipation and her moan pathetically.

“Fuck,” he mutters around her fingers raggedly. His eyes close for a brief second, savoring the taste of you, and when he finally pulls her fingers from his mouth, his gaze is fucking molten.

Before you know it, her lips are on his, their mouths crashing together in a quick, heated kiss. The taste of you still lingers on both of their tongues, and it makes the exchange all the more intense.

You watch them, your pulse quickening, your body already aching for more as you shift in the seat, thighs still spread.

The kiss breaks as quickly as it began, both of them pulling back, breathless. Javier’s hand moves back to the steering wheel as the light turns green, but his focus is still very much on you two, especially on the way you’re squirming , completely undone by what just happened.

“He’s such a good kisser.” She whispers into your ear, tugging at the lobe with her teeth gently.

“Looked real good. I’m kind of jealous,” you reply, breathless, allowing her to touch you all over, however she wants.

“Don’t be. You’ll get a taste of him too.”

Up at the front, his eyes glint with amusement while he watches, pulling into a nearby spot just outside your shared apartment. Finally.

You two lie back on the bed, stripped down to nothing but your matching thongs and the respective headbands of your costumes—your devilish horns and her angelic halo. Your breasts are fully exposed, nipples hardened by how turned on you are. 

Both of you are propped on your forearms, legs bent slightly, eyes lidded with anticipation as you stare up at Javier. 

He hasn’t even shed the damn DEA jacket. It clings so perfectly to his broad shoulders, the fabric hiding what you know to be a powerful frame beneath. His dark eyes roam over the two of you, drinking in the sight like you’re a masterpiece on display. 

He curses under his breath. “Look at you two… practically offering yourselves to me. Mi diablita y mi angelita.” His little devil and angel. 

His lips twitch into a smirk, and the low timbre of his voice has your core throbbing in anticipation.

With a simple motion, he beckons you over. “Ven acá,” he commands softly, his voice low and dripping with authority.

You move slowly off the bed. As you approach, he takes you by the waist, pulling you in suavely until your chest presses against his. Before you can even catch your breath, his lips are on yours. Firm, hungry, and demanding.

The moment his tongue slips into your mouth, it’s as though you’re lost in him, completely addicted to the way he kisses—so controlling and confident. His tongue moves with a fluid rhythm, caressing every part of your mouth like it’s his territory.

You gasp against his lips when his hand slides down to your ass, grabbing a handful of it with a harsh squeeze, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh. The pain mixes with pleasure, making you hiss, your hips instinctively pressing into him.

From the bed, she watches with wide eyes, her own pussy a mess as she witnesses him feeling you up. Her hand twitches, desperate to touch herself. 

Javier grunts, breaking the kiss with your bottom lip still between his teeth, giving it one last teasing tug before letting go.

He turns his attention to her, giving her a smoldering look that makes her breath catch. “Now you, angel. Come here,” he growls, and the urgency in his voice spurs her into action.

She moves toward him with eagerness, her halo slightly askew as she joins you by his side. You bite back a small giggle at how eager she is, but the moment is anything but light as Javier wraps one strong arm around her, pulling her close just as he did with you. His other hand remains firmly on your waist, keeping you close as well, as if he can’t bear to let either of you go.

Then he kisses her the same way he kissed you. His lips mold to hers, his tongue exploring her mouth as she melts against him. You can feel his hand tightening its grip on your waist as they make out, and it’s almost overwhelming, the heat and need radiating off him.

He breaks away from her, licking her bottom lip, eyes dark with lust. “Not sure if I want both of you kissing my cock,” he murmurs, turning his attention back to you, leaning in to nip at your jawline, “Or one of you choking on it while the other has her mouth full of cunt.”

Your hand fists the fabric of his pink shirt, knees weakening as the weight of his words settles deep in your core. Your mouth waters, not knowing which option excites you more.

“Both sound like a very fun time,” she chimes in, trying to pull his focus back to her, but Javier is too busy lavishing your neck with his lips and tongue.

Instead of replying, he sucks a mark into the tender skin just below your jaw, his mouth devouring you, while his hand trails up her body. Without a word, he presses on her shoulder, silently commanding her to kneel. She follows the instruction without hesitation, her body sinking to the floor between you and him.

You hear the familiar sound of his belt being undone, the metallic clink quickly followed by the hiss of his zipper. But everything else fades away when Javier kisses you again, his lips swallowing your soft moans as he takes his time exploring your mouth.

“Take my jacket off,” he mutters and you obey, pushing the heavy fabric off his broad shoulders, revealing the perfect fit of his pink shirt stretched across his muscular frame.

Holy shit. The sight alone makes you want to rip it off him like a feral woman, but you manage to control yourself, though just barely.

He groans, the sound vibrating into your mouth, and your gaze drops to the sight of the angel between his legs. Her hands wrap around his thick shaft, pressing his cock flat against his stomach as her tongue traces the thick vein running along his length.

He’s unlike anyone you’ve been with before, and the realization only makes your pulse race faster.

“Oh fuck,” he groans again, his hand tightening on your ass, squeezing the soft flesh through his fingers. “My shirt, unbutton it.”

Your fingers fumble with how eager you are. The buttons refuse to cooperate, and frustration begins to creep in, but before you can truly lose your patience, Javier senses it. His lips brush your ear as he whispers, “Slowly, diablita, no te apures.”

You nod, forcing yourself to slow down, digits working more carefully now. You undo each button, revealing the bronze expanse of his chest, inch by inch. Your lips part, taking in the view, gaze roaming over every dip and contour of his muscles.

“Mmm,” you moan softly, leaning in to kiss his collarbones, letting your lips linger over his warm skin. You can’t resist biting down lightly, marking him as if he’s yours, even though you hear the sloppy sound of her spitting below, her mouth working his cock in earnest.

“She doesn’t have a gag reflex…” you whisper against his neck, drunk on his grunts of pleasure. You expect to hear approval in his response, but instead, his brows furrow.

“Really?” He growls, fingers tangling in her hair, and without warning, he pulls her off his cock with one smooth motion. She gasps, her eyes are wide and dazed, still high off the taste of him on her tongue.

“A damn shame,” he tilts his head mockingly, “I like hearing my girls gag and choke on it.”

She looks lost for a moment, pretty lips swollen and glossy with his precome, but before she can protest, Javier’s attention shifts to you. His gaze is searing.

“¿Y tú, diablita? You got that party trick too, or am I going to have to break your throat open by shoving my cock down it?”

The filthy words send a sharp pulse of heat through your body, and you can feel the wetness pooling between your legs, soaking your thong and smearing against your inner thighs.

You’re so turned on you could cry, desperate to feel every inch of him inside you.

“Use my mouth, Javier,” you plead, your voice breathy and wrecked, “please.”

A wicked smile spreads across his lips. “On your knees.”

You don’t hesitate, dropping down to the carpeted floor beside her. Javier holds her by her hair, tilting her head up as he addresses her softly, “You did so well, beautiful girl. Now help her get it wet so I can fuck you.”

She obeys, her lips moving to the base of his cock as you take his thick head into your mouth, the taste of him, mixed with her saliva, having your eyes flutter close. Your tongue swirls around his swollen bulbous head, and then you move together, licking and sucking in perfect harmony.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before sliding his thick cock deeper into your mouth. The stretch is intense, and you feel your throat tighten as you try to take him down. At the same time, her lips wrap around the heft of his balls, and the combination of both your mouths working on him draws a low moan from Javier that makes your thighs tense.

Determined to please him, you push yourself further, choking yourself around his length. Your eyes water, tears brimming as you glance up at him, searching for his reaction. He’s already watching you, his lips curled into that cocky, half-smirk you’ve come to crave.

Seeing that expression spurs you on. You start moving your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks with each slow drag, the gagging sound deliberate as your throat tightens around him. Beneath you, she continues lavishing his balls with attention, her mouth hot and eager, and Javier’s groans grow louder, his hips starting to subtly rock into your mouth.

At one point, the two of you get so lost in it, your mouths collide, tongues tangling as you kiss each other with Javier’s cock between your lips. Her hand slips up to your chest, pinching at your nipples as you both work him, and you hear Javier above you, a mess of pleasure as he watches his two pretty girls worship his dick.

His voice drips with authority as he watches the two of you with dark, lust-filled eyes. “Get on the bed, angelita. Hands and knees. Gonna take your pussy from behind while our little devil sucks your clit and licks at my dick while I fuck you.”

The moment you release him from your mouth with a wet pop, you can feel how swollen your lips are, your makeup smeared, eyeliner streaking down your cheeks. You and your friend look like something out of the filthiest, most erotic fantasy, and Javier can’t take his eyes off you. The thought crosses his mind that if he took a photo right now, it’d be worth a fucking fortune.

You both follow his command, positioning yourselves on the bed just as he ordered. She hovers over you, bent over, her ass high in the air, while your head dangles off the edge of the bed in a perfect sixty-nine.

He undresses, his gaze never leaving your bodies, watching with that predatory hunger as you and her begin to tease each other.

The delicate fabric of your thongs are finally gone and her warm breath ghosts over your exposed folds, making your pussy clench in anticipation.

She starts slow, kissing your inner thighs and around your heat but never quite giving you what you need. You can’t help but let out a whine, wrapping your arms around her thighs and pulling her down onto your face. Her soft, slick lips press against your mouth, and you waste no time licking up the seam of her pussy, savoring the headiness of her arousal.

Your moans vibrate against her cunt as you devour her, her taste overwhelming you, familiar but always intoxicating. Your tongue dances between her folds, lapping up her wetness before flicking at her pearl, making her shudder above you.

Her hips begin to roll, grinding down onto your mouth, but the second her lips latch onto your clit, you lose all sense of control. Her fingers spread your folds apart, exposing your sensitive bud to her relentless tongue, and you cry out into her pussy, your hips bucking involuntarily.

The room is filled with the obscene sounds of your wet mouths working each other over. You’re both so immersed in the pleasure of giving and receiving, that you barely register the bed shifting under Javier’s weight until his hands are on her ass. His large palms knead and spank the supple flesh, making her gasp into your cunt as the flesh jostles against your eager tongue.

“Damn. Look at you two. So fucking hot. You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” His voice is a growl, sending a fresh wave of heat straight to your core.

Your only response is a moan as she sucks your clit harder, making cry out. Javier smirks, relishing the sight and sound of you both writhing in pleasure. “I really lucked out tonight.”

He grabs his cock, stroking it as he positions himself behind her. The tip of him slides through along her cunt, teasing her fluttering hole, and you can feel the tremble in her thighs as he lines himself up.

You move your head to kiss and lick the underside of his cock, your tongue tracing the thick vein, working your way down to his balls. Your mouth latches onto them, sucking one into your mouth, your lips wet and hot around him.

You feel her entire body jolt when Javier finally pushes into her, filling her in one smooth, hard thrust. Her moan is muffled by your pussy, her face buried deeper into you, and you can’t help but cry out.

“Oh Javi…” she gasps against you, her voice shaky as she tries to hold herself up, but her face remains pressed to your cunt, her lips still working you over despite the overwhelming sensation of being fucked from behind.

Javier groans above you, his hips rolling into her in deep, slow strokes that make her whimper and squirm against you. “Good job, diablita,” he praises, his voice low and rough. “You hear that?” He thrusts harder, his cock plunging deeper into her, and you hear the slick, wet sound of her cunt weeping around him. “She’s fuckin’ crying for it.”

You can’t even form a response, too overwhelmed by the sensation of her mouth on your clit and your own mouth full of his balls. You’re drunk off the combined pleasure, your body quivering with need, every nerve on fire.

Javier grips her hips tightly, fucking her harder, his pace rough now. Her cries of pleasure are snuffed as she desperately licks at your pussy, her hand skipping down to rub your clit as Javier pounds into her.

The intensity is too much, the pleasure building into a crescendo that has you teetering on the edge of release.

She plunges two fingers inside you, your hips instinctively bucking to meet the pressure, needing more. And she gives it to you, even as Javier pounds the last coherent thought out of her head, his cock relentless inside her.

Every sensation is amplified as your mouth alternates between worshiping the inches of his cock as they disappear and reappear with each powerful thrust, and lapping at her swollen clit, her arousal coating his cock and dripping onto your tongue—sweet, salty, and heady.

Your lips slip from her clit just as her fingers curl inside you, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. You can feel the tension in her body, the way her breath quickens as her head lolls back onto her shoulder, helpless how you’re both making her feel. “I’m right there,” she gasps, breathy and urgent. “Oh god, I’m about to come.”

Her fingers dig deeper inside you, curling, while her thumb expertly flits over your sensitive clit, making your body tremble. Your pussy tightens around her fingers in anticipation, riding that delicious edge with her.

“That’s right, angel,” Javier growls, his voice rough, driving into her with a brutal rhythm. “Come on, make a mess all over this dick.”

His thumb slides down her cunt, collecting the mixture of your saliva, his precome, and her creamy arousal, and without warning, he presses it against her tight, puckered hole. He pushes in slowly, her body tensing, and that’s all it takes.

“Oh fuck, Javi!” she screams, her orgasm crashing into her like a tidal wave. Her fingers freeze inside you as she’s overcome by the intensity of it, her entire body going taut with pleasure

 Her mouth hovers above your pussy, so close, but she’s too far gone to continue pleasuring you.

Javier groans, his hand tangling in her hair, and with one rough motion, he pushes her down, forcing her lips back onto your throbbing heat.

The sudden pressure of her mouth against your overstimulated clit has you yelping, your thighs clenching tightly around her head as the waves of your own orgasm crash into you without warning. Your body shudders, your mouth still working around where their bodies connect, tasting her on him as you both lose yourselves in the euphoria.

He doesn’t let up, thrusting into her through her climax, his grunts echoing in the room. Both of you collapse, sweaty and trembling, drenched in each other’s fluids and completely spent, like you’re drunk off the dizzying mix of sex and pleasure.

But Javier’s far from finished.

“No, don’t quit on me now,” he tuts, his balls heavy and his cock still throbbing with need as he pulls out of her, his slick length absolutely drenched.

Before you can catch your breath, he moves, slipping his cock between your parted lips. Your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion, but the taste of her cum on his velvety shaft makes you moan as you greedily take him into your throat, your tongue swirling around him, desperate to please.

“That’s right, baby,” he groans, his voice thick with satisfaction as he thrusts into your mouth. “Doing so fucking good. Should have you wearing that goddamn halo.”

You hear her soft laugh from beside you as she rolls off, collapsing onto her back, her chest heaving as she stares up at the ceiling, completely blissed out. You feel the heat of his body as he slides out of your mouth, his thumb caressing your cheek before delivering a light slap.

Your skin tingles with the sting, and his next words make your stomach twist with anticipation. “Sit up,” he orders, his voice firm. You obey, your body trembling, ready for whatever he wants next.

“You okay, angel?” Javier’s voice is tender as he hovers over her, planting soft kisses along her flushed skin. His large hands knead her breasts, fingers expertly teasing her nipples with gentle pinches that make her moan.

She arches into him, threading her fingers through his hair, pulling him up for a kiss, their lips meeting with a heated softness.

You can’t resist joining them, your lips finding his shoulder as you bite down on the taut muscle, your teeth grazing the warm skin before you trail your kisses to his neck. He groans into her mouth, making your core ache with need, the sight of them kissing driving your arousal higher.

“I’m fine,” she breathes against his lips, satisfied but not yet spent. “Just need a second. You should play with her. I think she wants you more than I do.”

Javier chuckles, leaving a few more tender pecks on her lips before turning his full attention to you. His dark eyes are almost mocking as they meet yours. “That true?”

You nod without hesitation, not even fully comprehending what you’re agreeing to, but at this point, you’d say yes to anything just to feel his cock inside you, stretching you out, bringing relief to that deep ache.

In one swift motion, he maneuvers you onto his lap, guiding you to sink down on him. Your knees press into the mattress on either side of his hips as you both groan, the tight stretch of him pushing into your wet heat making you gasp.

The burn is exquisite, and the fullness—God, you never want it to end.

You start moving, slowly at first, trying to find a rhythm as your body adjusts to his girth.

His lips latch onto your neck, biting and sucking, leaving blotchy marks all the way down to your breasts. When he wraps his mouth around your nipple, sucking with just the right amount of pressure, you whimper, your pace picking up as the pleasure coils tighter inside you.

His calloused fingers pinch and roll your other stiffened peak, adding to the building tension, making you bounce harder on his cock.

And then you feel her behind you—the soft warmth of her tits pressing against your naked back, her breath hot against your ear as she plays with your hair before sliding down to your hips. Her touch guides your movements, her acrylic nails digging just enough to leave a sting in your skin.

Your head falls back onto her shoulder, your body trembling with the intensity of it all. You catch her eye, and the two of you share a slow, knowing smile, a silent acknowledgment of the intoxicating pleasure you’re both wrapped up in.

Meanwhile, Javier’s lips stay glued to your breasts, alternating between your nipples as he grunts with each bounce, his cock driving deeper inside you, brushing against every sensitive spot.

“You look so good riding his dick. Don’t know if we’re ever gonna top this,” her hand slides up to tilt your jaw, guiding your lips to hers. The kiss is messy, her tongue swirling around your own, and all you can do is moan into it, completely surrendered to the pleasure they’re both giving you.

Javier detached from your chest, mesmerized by the sight of you two kissing. The tension in the air crackles with desire, and he can’t resist joining in.

The three of you come together in a heated, tangled, trio makeout session—lips, tongues, and breath intermingling in a way that feels both chaotic and addicting.

The scratch of his mustache against your skin sends shivers down your spine, while her soft, breathy moans fill your ears like a sweet melody, lulling you deeper into bliss.

His cock twitches inside you, and your walls respond, squeezing him tighter. You can’t help but grind down on him, your body desperate for more. That sensation is enough to break the kiss, both of them pulling back as you gasp for air.

“Gonna come inside you, diablita,” Javier pants out, his voice low and full of heat. “While our angel sits on my face. That okay?”

Better than okay—it’s fucking perfect.

She giggles softly, and you nod, allowing him to reposition you like a doll in his hands, his strong grip shifting you further down the bed while he stays buried inside you. She straddles his face, her thighs quivering as he pulls her down, his lips already teasing her swollen folds.

You start moving again, rolling your hips as the room fills with the heavy scent of sex, the sounds of pleasure. Her moans grow louder, her head lolling forward as she leans to kiss you again, her whimpers melting into your mouth as Javier’s nose nudges her clit and his lips devour her.

You brace yourself, leaning back and planting your hands between his spread legs as you begin to bounce on his cock, the angle hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. You cry out his name, your voice breaking as the pleasure swells. His hands hold her steady, keeping her close while he’s lost between her thighs, groaning into her soaked pussy as he jerks his hips up, meeting your movements.

She kisses down your neck, her lips warm against your hot skin, trailing down to your tits. Her teeth gently tug at your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core before she lowers herself enough to kitten lick over your clit.

You gasp, feeling her mouth move sinfully against your sensitive pearl, then down to where Javier’s thick cock stretches you wide, her lips brushing against the point where he disappears inside you.

The sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced, a dizzying blend of pleasure that’s too intense to put into words. “Fuck, keep doing that—oh shit,” you babble, barely able to form a coherent thought. Your body feels like it’s burning brightly as you fist the sheets beneath you, your head thrown back in pure ecstasy.

Javier groans into her, and you feel him start to lose control, his thrusts becoming more erratic. The three of you move together in perfect rhythm, lost in the heat of the moment, riding the waves of pleasure that threaten to pull you under.

Your breath comes in short, shallow gasps, the pressure inside your core winding tighter and tighter with every stroke, every flick of her tongue.

He growls low and deep, pulling his mouth from her only long enough to mutter through gritted teeth, “Fuck, you two are gonna make me lose it.”

The rawness of his voice sends you spiraling. You grind down on him harder, your hips rocking in desperation as your moans mix with hers, a chorus of pleasure that fills the room. Sweat beads on your skin, slicking your movements as you chase your release.

“Come on,” his voice is strained and muffled by her thick thighs. “I want to feel you fall apart on my cock.”

That’s all it takes. With one more thrust, one more wet suck of her pretty mouth, your body locks up, pleasure crashing over you in an overwhelming wave. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as you come, your walls clenching around him in pulsing waves.

She moans into your overstimulated sex, humping his face, her movements reeking with desperation until she cries out, her thighs trembling around Javier’s head as her orgasm overpowers her.

He’s succeeded in his goal of satisfying you two which in turn satisfies him, his chest shaking with a groan, cock throbbing as he spills into you. The feeling of his cum filling your pussy up sends another shiver of pleasure through your body, prolonging your high.

You’re all spent, bodies buzzing with the aftershocks of your shared release. Javier’s hands loosen their grip on her thighs as she slowly pulls herself off him, collapsing on the bed and you fall forward onto his chest.

His cock is still softening inside you as he wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you close. He presses a kiss to your temple, his breath hot against your skin.

“You two were... fuckin’ perfect,” he murmurs, moving his free hand to rub over her body, making sure to share some comforting, grounding touches with her as well.

She smiles lazily, rolling on her side and cuddling into his side as he wraps his arm around her, her fingers tracing patterns on your naked skin as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, basking in this amazing feeling you don’t think you’ll ever feel again.

The three of you lie there in a tangle of limbs, your heartbeats slowly returning to normal.

His body begins to gear up to slip away, to excuse himself from the bed and let you both rest.

You and your friend exchange a glance, and without saying a word, you share a matching smirk. There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes, and it mirrors your own as you sit up slightly. 

As if on cue, her hand slides down his chest, teasingly brushing over his soft stomach then drifting lower, her nails grazing the skin just above where you’re still connected to him.

At the same time, your fingers trace a slow, sensual path up his neck, your lips brushing against his jawline as you press a gentle kiss there, whispering, “Where do you think you’re going, Javi?”

He groans softly, still a little dazed from the post-coital bliss, but you can already see the spark of renewed interest in his gaze. He shifts and you feel his cock stir again inside you.

“Yeah,” she purrs, leaning in to kiss his neck, her hand slipping lower to toy with him. “We’re not done with you yet.”

Javier chuckles, but there’s a hint of surprise in his voice. “Oh, really?” His hand grips your waist a little tighter as his other palm slides down to cup your friend’s ass, pulling her closer against him. “You two think you can handle me again?”

The playful challenge in his voice only makes you both smile wider. You rock your hips ever so slightly, feeling him hardening inside you. “We know we can,” you murmur, your voice dripping with lust.

“And we’re not letting you go until we’ve had our fill.”

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️ : @magneticecstasy . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @persephone-girl . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled .

@puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @pepperstories . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @angiewatson . @dinanabuu . @sunshinefive .

[your-nanas-house]

That stupid thong

◇ Pairing: Dad's Best Friend!Cillian Murphy X Best friend's daughter!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, masturbation, drinking, mention of pee (not in a kinky way), pub bathroom (male), Dad's Best friend x best friend's daughter dynamic, thongs, bit dark (?)

◇ Summary: Cillian has a night out with his friends but meets Y/n in the same pub.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Part of the "Au/series" My Dad's Friend. "Part 1 here".

The place was full, people were coming in and out of the place, screams and laughter adding to the noisy atmosphere of the pub.

Cillian didn't fit in it that much due to his personality but that didn't stop him from going, just to enjoy a Guiness beer on tap. Fresh alcoholic drink that always managed to keep him on a good mood since it was a perfect excuses to meet friends.

It was the first time he went out on his own since his best friend's daughter went to stay to him for the summer. The first weeks were spent arranging and explaining things since it had been ages since the last time she visited Ireland.

Cillian didn't want to leave her alone, as his most protective part as a parent came out every time she did something that 'grown ups' did. Understandable since the responsibility of his 'kiddo' was on his shoulders and having no particular experience with freshly off age girls he struggled a bit, hesitating in every move.

The cold drink was refreshing as it went down his throat, the music was loud but not uncomfortable with the noises of the tv. There weren't many people but it was bit crowded, not enough to not recognize everyone in there, though.

As Cillian continued his evening with friends, chatting and laughing while enjoying beers after beers, something caught his attention. With the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar colour that made him turn around to check further... just to see Y/n with a boy taking a seat at a table near a corner of the pub.

It felt strange someway, seeing her dolled up for what looked like a date when he still remembered her sweet chubby face and princess dresses as their tea dates. 'Guess they became beer-dates over time', Cillian wondered while gulping down his beer again.

She was wearing a short skirt with a nice pattern that matched the color of the long-sleeved shirt she had on, one that delined her breasts perfectly making them seem rounder than when she just had a bra on. The actor could tell.

As his light blue eyes kept wondering back to her his left hand remained on the cold glass and the other subconsciously rubbed the fabric of the thong he had still in his pocket. He didn't do it on purpose, he was in a rush and just put on the first pants he had seen, finding just in the car the thong he had stolen.

"Will you excuse me a second?" Cillian murmured out, standing up from the stool to start approaching the spot where she was, ignoring the reasonable thoughts that kept popping in his head telling him to leave them have their date but after the beers he had, the alchol was dominating his mind.

"Kiddo? What are you doing here, you didn't mention a date" his low voice declared, his eyes scanning the Irish boy that was sitting next to her before meeting the embarassed gaze of his best friend's daughter

"Well it was a last minute thing and I was bored at home so.... yeah" she replied with a shy smile, hoping not to be in trouble for the choice of the pub or anything else but luckily one of Cillian's friends waved him over calling him just in time before he could ask further questions.... at her or worse at her date.

The rest of the night went smoothly, the older actor stayed to enjoy old times with his friends as he kept a close eye on Y/n just in case she needed something or anything happened.

Not a close eye enough, though, since towards the end of the evening he couldn't see them anymore so he called it a night and searched a cab while heading to the bathroom of the local.

It was a small bathroom, with two water-closet and some urinals close to the door.

The older man's hand reached for the door when a noise caught his attention, more like a voice that cursed under their breath making him recognize immediately who it was but not yet where from.

The bathroom was empty or so it seemed... except from one of the water-closet which had the door locked. The door didn't touched the ground allowing anyone to see the feet of who was inside— allowing Cillian to see who was inside. Allowing him to understand what was going on inside.

A thud of a back hitting the wooden door caught him by surprise, startling a moment before he made his way to the urinals with silent steps. Y/n's voice could be heard faintly as the young woman moaned softly out, nearly covering the sounds of the heavy breathing of the boy she was with.

Cillian could easily imagine the activity they were doing if he closed his eyes while unconsciously unzipping his pants. She was probably pressed against the door, her legs wrapped around the hips of the boy, her chest maybe bare since the corset was being pulled down to expose her young breasts for the male's eyes.

Feck, the actor thought as he glanced down at his now free cock which was hard thanks to his thoughts and the sweet noises, and didn't allow him to do exactly what he had gone to the bathroom for or at least not with some effort.

He stayed silent in the same room, listening carefully, enjoying a bit too much his best friend's daughter's noises and the new addictions of the act like the thuds of the thrusts, the wet noises coming probably from her wet cunt, plus the heavy breathing that matched his.

If the older man had had a mind less blinded by alcohol he would surely have stopped his hand which was now wrapped around his cock, stroking it in hard but slow motions, following the rhytm of the thrusts he could hear.

The wet noises filled his head as he spit in his hand and continuing where he left, checking slightly the door while masturbaring at the sounds, his eyes glued to the wood till he saw Y/n's thong fall on the dirty ground of the bathroom. Almost as a reminder of the thong he still had in his pocket and that wad screaming at him to take it and use it however he liked it.

His peak was getting closer and closer as he automatically reached for the fabric, wrapping it fast around his cock never stopping his quick wrist movements that made his body shake as soon as he came, biting down his lip and shooting his cum in the urinal.

It took me some minutes to recover from his peak and as soon as he was back to his sense completely, his hands tucked himself back in, moving the thong back in his pocket before leaving quickly the bathroom to head out of the pub.

On the way out Cillian could finally clear his mind, the fresh hair blowing straight to his face as if to wake him up by his dizziness and clear up his mind, as pity slowly started to crawl in him.

"Fuck" he murmured under his breath, inhaling deeply to calm down as he rested a moment against a wall to allow his body to relax till the cab arrival.

It didn't took Y/n very long to exit the place as well and look around to see if she could still see Cillian anywhere or if he had already headed back home before her. But there he was, facing a wall about to pee after all the drinks he had and since he never had the chance to do it earlier.

"Uncle Cilly—" she murmured, pulling him casually in a more private place, covering for him as some paparazzi tried to catch some scandal to put in newspaper and spread all over the world

"We should head back home, hm?" Her voice whispered out, glancing slightly at him before turning her back quickly to search the cab discretely.

[mywritingonlyfans]

Rapture. // Cillian Murphy X Reader. (Smut!)

prompt: You're younger, and love partnered with Cillian in filming a movie. He's developed certain feelings for you and finding himself struggling with them recently, until things get worse with the idea of a sex scene being added to the script. (age gap, wax play and some other sex stuff)

words: 4,3K.

He had received the script update that morning, and as he saw your eyes shift away from him during casual conversations before rehearsals, he knew you had read the new scenes. Both of you were aware of the possibility of that much-discussed sex scene that the director was considering adding. However, neither of you had imagined how it would play out, and the thought of being partially undressed in front of each other felt somewhat odd. Still, Cillian couldn't help but envision the words he had read earlier that morning coming to life in just a few weeks' time.

Now, you were sitting across from him, wearing a loose blouse and comfortable shorts, with your legs crossed. Your fingers tapped lightly on the script as you read your lines. As the others left the room, he realized that your nervousness wasn't about needing to rehearse in a few minutes, but about him being there. Cillian had initially dismissed his thoughts about you, attributing them to the recent divorce he was going through. However, he soon realized that these feelings were more than just passing thoughts.

He had already developed a pure and genuine admiration for you. He found himself lost in daydreams of conversations you could have, where he could rest your head on his chest and kiss your forehead, assuring you that everything was alright. Just as he found himself reliving the moments when you would get excited and talkative about the books you were reading after he mentioned that he had already read them. Each time you passionately shared your thoughts and enthusiasm for the stories, he couldn't help but be captivated by your animated expressions. The way your eyes would light up, the gestures you made, and the genuine joy in your voice made him smile, even long after the conversations had ended.

Yet, your expressions, your smiles, and your worries were too precious for him, but he reminded himself daily that such feelings were wrong, even though he couldn't stop them from growing.

What used to be harmless had taken a different turn after those new scenes were added to your interactions. Reading the scene had been somewhat painful, but seeing you there in person made it even more overwhelming (though not necessarily bad). The room was small, with scented candles around, something the director believed would help the actors feel at ease, though that wasn't the result Cillian was experiencing. He was practically lying in front of you, trying to make himself comfortable, avoiding looking into your eyes, though he hadn't noticed that his hands were sweaty and his breathing was heavier.

Still, he mustered the courage to gaze at you for a brief moment, trying to keep his thoughts from spiraling. "You've read it, haven't you? How do you feel?" Your nervous laughter was adorable, and your hands tightened around the script, making him notice how delicate and smaller they were compared to his own. "Yeah, I read it," your voice sounded weak, and he waited for your prolonged sigh before you continued. "I've never done something like this before, not even in theater." His face turned red, and he tried to comfort you with just a look. Touching you at this moment felt like a terrible idea, but he still did it, sitting next to you, making sure his shoulder touched yours. Contrary to what he thought, you seemed to relax at the contact, appearing more relieved. "It must be strange having to do this scene with me, given that I have no experience. Sometimes I feel like I'm not bringing positive results to your work." He immediately shook his head, hating it when you belittled yourself. You were incredibly talented.

Still, he lingered on those words. How inexperienced were you really? He had to control himself not to sound breathless as he continued, "You actually make it more enjoyable, and it'll be fine. If you agree, we can go through the lines before filming the scene. And if there's anything I can do to make you feel more at ease with this or anything else, I'll be right here." You turned to him, your angelic face now less worried, and nodded, unsure of what to say. There was a comfortable silence, and Cillian found himself smiling with closed eyes. Stopping these thoughts might be better, but they were inevitable. All he could do was wait and deal with it when the time came, even if there were more scenes after this, as well as marketing and interviews after all the filming...

...

He woke up feeling hot, drops of sweat on his temples and his chest damp. His mouth was dry, and his mind was still on your slightly parted lips, imagining how they would grow wetter as you felt him on your skin the previous night. He felt tight in his shorts, and your scent near him caused a pounding in his head. You were peacefully asleep as if you had never given yourself to him, as if you hadn't suggested adding more intensity to your lovemaking after exhausting all your muscles and neurons together. He hugged your body tighter, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer against him. You snuggled into him, and he brushed your hair away from your face and neck, kissing the spot with caution, yet urgency, until you slowly woke up and reciprocated. Your touch was delicate and gentle, just as he had fantasized before, and it fed his mind entirely.

And you felt like you could still taste yourself on him as he intensified the kisses, and your control was slipping away with each firm squeeze he gave your hips and how solidly hard he was against you. Cillian was aware that you enjoyed it—the marks left, the momentary pain when he bit your thigh, and the darker hues that you hid the next day from the intense way he kissed your breasts while you rode him. Your serene eyes and slightly parted lips showed calm facial expressions, and you found yourself surrendering to him fully. Despite no apparent reason except him being older than you, and even though it might be considered inappropriate, he found himself enjoying the thought while your features became even more devoted.

He unbuttoned your last buttons, leaving his hands free to explore every inch of you, and smiled at your soft moan when his fingers touched the marks under your breast. He kissed the spot, running his tongue over the sensitive skin, and grunted at your soft whimper. Your head was buried deep in the pillow, and Cillian didn't hesitate to position himself so he had a full view of you.

"I have an idea, I think you'll like it," he whispered, out of breath, and you chuckled in response. The room was still dark, far from dawn, and the only illumination came from the scented candles you kept on the nightstand to create a soothing sleeping environment. He had them well-reserved in his mind at the moment.

"Can I hear it first, sir?" you asked curiously, completely surrendering to this. Cillian loved how you trusted him without even needing to hesitate, even though there was no apparent reason to trust him other than him being older than you, and even though it might be considered inappropriate. He found himself enjoying that thought as your features became even more devoted. He nodded and unbuttoned your last buttons, leaving his hands free to explore every inch of you, smiling at your soft moan when his fingers touched the marks under your breast. He kissed the spot, running his tongue over the sensitive skin, and grunted at your soft whimper. Your head was buried deep in the pillow, and Cillian didn't hesitate to position himself so he had a full view of you.

"I'll try it, and you'll tell me if it's not okay, alright?" You were a bit whiny and clearly still sensitive from the previous hours, and he loved that. Your gaze was satisfied, and your muscles visibly relaxed; he loved the effect he had on you. You nodded, "I'm okay, Cill." Your hands went to his hair as he moved to your collarbone, showering it with kisses, bites, sucks, and eventually, firm grips. He could taste the flavor of your moans and cries on the tip of his tongue.

 Something about it felt so real it burned in him. The recorded scene of the film was recurrent and he was there confirming the perfection of what he had seen before.

He enjoyed the way you let him do whatever he wanted with you, how it consumed his mind and forced him to maintain control, not to go too far with you. The knowledge that no one had touched you before, tasted you, or marked you in such an intense way only heightened everything further. His teeth chattered, and his knees felt weak at what was to come.

Pulling away, he gracefully tugged on your hair, and his chest was filled with your half-closed, half-tired gaze that seemed to pierce him. He rubbed against the sheets beneath him, feeling sore just from the thought alone, and you chuckled sweetly. His head swirled, and he leaned over and grasped the candle holder, his fingertips briefly turning red from the heat. You paid more attention, adjusting yourself on the pillow, but he disapproved, "You don't need to do that; I want you to relax like before, princess. Just focus on emptying your mind, lie down and be cute."

You did nothing but nod and return to your previous position, but this time letting your body go limp wasn't so easy. You could feel how wet you were from the mere thought of what had already corrupted your mind. Still between your legs, Cillian caressed the inside of your thigh, and you realized you had closed them; your mind was cluttered and hard to control. You spread them apart, leaving no room for ambiguity, making it clear that you didn't want him to hold back with whatever this was. He positioned himself better between you, allowing you to feel how heavy he was even with layers of fabric between you—his shorts and your panties. You could swear you already had a wet spot in yours. Your chest was desperate, rising up and falling down slowly, and Cillian couldn't look at you without wiping the satisfied smile off his face. 

He raised the candle holder, and you could feel the heat on your breasts, your nipples excited by the sensation. The flicker of the fire was reflected in his eyes, and your lips pressed firmly together. You stifled a whimper, but couldn't hold back the whining when the wax dripped onto your sensitive skin that had already been exhausted by him. "I want to hear you, don't hold back," his high-pitched voice with a serious expression, his lines well-defined from how focused he was, left you dazed, and you needed to grind against him strongly, causing both of you to grunt and release the air from your lungs. He was happy with this, happy that you were desperate and that he was causing you some pain.

Cillian lifted the candle again and watched the droplets of wax fall onto you, tracing a line from the center of your breasts to your lower belly. Compared to his, your face was angelic with each movement, the soft moans leaving your expression even more inviting as you felt small in front of him. Your stomach clenched, and your face displayed a mixture of pain along with soft, adorable moans that made him want to explode. His hands trembled, and he had to focus hard not to finish right then and there and be done with it.

"Fuck, pumpkin, you look so good," and you enjoyed how seeing you like this had that effect on him. Your eyes closed, and everything felt intensified; your hips involuntarily spasmed against his, but it was a futile act. He audibly laughed from time to time, sweet and mature yet perverse, as if to make it clear how satisfying this was for him, and it left you completely dizzy and longing for more. He peeled off some hardened wax from your skin, admiring the marks it had left, and after massaging the area for a while he allowed the liquid to accumulate as it burned, running his tongue over the area and sucking the skin to him.

Your nails dug into his shoulder with enough force to leave crescent moons, and he let go, his teeth clearly imprinted on your skin, your fervor only making him more determined. He ran his thumb over the spot that would later be darkened and poured the excess of wax into you. Your legs tightened around him, and your hands grasped the sheets, tears welling up in your eyes, and your whimpering was soft but pleading, not exactly knowing what plea was being conveyed through it all. "Fuck, Cill, fuck, fuck," you tried hard for some relief. He halted his movements, forcing your legs to stop and holding your arms down to the mattress. He was delicate yet firm, just as you needed. You had a safe word; he knew you were okay, you were just trying to get his attention.

The holder, with the candle still burning, was now beside the sheets next to you. "Look at me, babygirl." You swallowed hard, tears streaming down the sides of your face. "Let's be good and not knock over the candle," he said firmly and clearly, and you nodded in pure eagerness, watching his well-defined and prominent muscles due to the force with which he was holding you. He kissed your face, wiping away the salty dampness, then moved to your mouth, which you wisely captured in a somewhat desperate act. He pulled away slowly, a thin trail of saliva connecting you both and slowly fading away.

He chuckled, and with no more, held your jaw and used his thumb to make you open your lips for him, sealing them with his, and soon you felt the buildup in you, and with a fuller sigh, you swallowed his breath over the messy kisses, feeling somewhat comforted. He caressed your cheek with his fingers, studying you, and you stuck your teeth into them, still trying not to move too much and be good. It was obvious you were struggling with this task. "It's good, Cill, I don't mind." He continued with more kisses and wet bites on your body, tightly gripping the open bars of your shirt with a gentle yet firm grip, almost causing your back to lift slightly off the mattress in need of him. It wasn't hard to tell you were younger, just looking at your genuine eyes was enough, and the reminder of that, that it was wrong in a way, made him want more of it all.

"Stay still, or we won't get anywhere, pumpkin," he said, and indeed you had forgotten about the candle by your side. You couldn't and wouldn't let it fall. He still sensed your scent so prominently on you, a lingering blend of sweat from the night before. Dry droplets adorned your panties, and a damp spot in the center was visibly apparent; it was adorable in his eyes. He kissed the area, gently brushing his nose against it, and you let out a graceful sigh. And once again, he found himself immersed in the feeling of having you like this, a sensation that was exclusively his. No one else had the privilege.

Unable to hold back any longer, Cillian pushed the thin fabric down and traced his tongue through you. He was familiar with it, but each time he tasted you, it fueled him with more energy. He didn't need to go too deep; you were already sticky enough, and yet clearly sensitive, a delightful mess nonetheless. Cillian pushed your swollen lips up, reaching your intended spot, and he licked it avidly. You gasped, your fists clenching the sheets. He blew on the spot and sucked on it for his own pure pleasure; he loved how the smell and taste lingered vividly in his mind afterward. However, he knew neither of you could last much longer in this way, and it wasn't how he wanted to end things.

He tightened his fingers on your thighs, using more of you, already feeling his chin and cheeks sticky from you. Reluctantly, he withdrew, mesmerized by how your essence still overflowed his mouth as he swallowed deeply, seeking oxygen. Your whimpering turned more pleading and disapproving, and he understood; he felt the same way, sore and neglected, begging for any hint of relief.

"I'm being good, Cill." Your eyes were wide open as you pleaded your case. He nodded, wiping the corners of his mouth with his fingers and still licking them to avoid any waste. It only quickened your breathing, and he felt a twinge of pity.

"You are, babygirl, you're being wonderful." He massaged his fingertips into you, spreading the burning sensation. You wouldn't be able to stay still even if you wanted to.

"You're okay, right?" he asked, pushing his fingers in slowly and deftly to fill you, watching your eyes squeeze shut tightly and your back arching a little.

"I am. I'd tell you if I weren't," you sounded weak, with sweat glistening on your forehead. It wasn't a very convincing vision, but Cillian trusted that you'd speak up if something was wrong. He moved his fingers until you got accustomed to the feeling and relaxed, making sure you wouldn't have any trouble taking him after. But you were so wet that he knew you could handle him easily even without much stretching. He made a mental note to try that later.

He pulled his fingers away, his hand sticky and wet from the excess that had dribbled, his mind taken by you, all the positions, and possibilities.

"No waste, remember?" You recalled something he had told you. Soon, your hands were around his wrist, and he didn't hesitate to let you take his fingers into your mouth, enveloping them and sucking on your sweet flavor, your eyes closing as he savored the sensation only he could describe. Your touch of sweetness and genuineness taking him over completely.

"Enough," he declared, pulling them away from you, leaving you with sad, pleading eyes. You could easily be death of him if you wanted.

You felt a bit hazy, things moving fast but still light, and surprisingly comforting after just waking up. You couldn't say when or how, but as you shifted slightly in bed and your eyes met his, he had already managed to shed his shorts. He was pulsating; he wouldn't last much longer, and you could tell he had held back for quite some time until then.

"I love how you look," he chuckled, smugness evident. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were flushed from the stress. His hair, with some strands of gray, fell over his face, and before you could brush it away, he held your arms again. You gasped, hesitating, and he forced your body onto the mattress, his weight and legs spreading yours apart. Lightly, he closed the gap between you, then settled inside you. As he had imagined, he slid in skillfully. Your head was thrown back, and you felt complete ecstasy just from finally having him after such a wait, even though it burned, and Cillian didn't feel much different.

His grunts were deep, and it made you even more flustered and messy for him. He rose, still dripping from your body, holding the candle holder. Even though he hadn't planned to tease since he was just as eager, he proceeded anyway. His hand rested on your waist, and without moving, he allowed you to ride him slowly with lazy thrusts to get what you wanted. You were shy, and your movements were as delicate as your body, adjusting to his as if you couldn't let him know. Soon he would be emptying himself inside you, deep, and that made him pant. In the meantime, he measured the droplets of wax over your belly and breasts, watching in awe as your body trembled from exhaustion.

Your moans were mostly breathless tones, and your mouth remained partially open. Your eyes never left him, of how his v-line joined yours as he filled you perfectly, until all the air left your lungs. He let a few drops fall on his own abdomen, grunting hoarsely at the warmth of him, and he smiled sweetly as your hips stopped their motion, and you focused solely on watching him.

Cillian paused, gently placing the candle holder back on the nightstand, and he tenderly turned you over onto your belly on the bed. You complied with grace, leaning forward to be closer to him, not holding back your affection. He cradled you, running his fingers through your hair, and his body welcomed yours against his chest. With utmost care, he joined with you, moving deep and fervently, his movements filled with passion, turning your whimpers into soft moans of pleasure.

The sight of you brought him immense joy, and he cherished the intimacy you shared. He was overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings for you, and he wanted nothing more than to fill you up warmly. He knew he had to be gentle, to ensure your comfort, and to respect your boundaries. Even more knowing you weren't used to that.

With each tender touch, he felt the connection between you both, savoring the moments of ecstasy that flowed between your bodies. He marveled at the depth of your trust in him, and he felt an overwhelming desire for more and more of you.

As he continued, he held you close, your hands seeking his to anchor you in the intensity of the experience. The room was filled with the sweet sounds of your pleasure, and he was enthralled by the way your body responded to his touch.

He adored every moment, every caress, and every gasp that escaped your lips. As your passion reached its peak, he held you tightly, ensuring you felt safe and into his arms. Your shared climax made him dizzy, leaving you both breathless and content.

Afterwards, he stroked your back, waist, and shoulders, reveling in the intimacy you had just shared. He admired the marks and traces left on your body.

"I treasure every moment with you," he whispered, his voice filled with adoration and a strong accent.

You smiled softly, feeling the warmth of him envelop you. His presence brought you comfort and peace, and you knew that you were deeply his.

With a caring touch, he wiped away the traces of passion from your lips, and you savored the lingering taste of him on your tongue.  You nestled even closer to him, and he let you, holding you tighter. You could still feel him oozing between your legs, the liquid turning cold, tingling a little from the soreness, but it felt great. You knew he would treat you like precious pearls, bathing you and leaving you clean before you went to sleep, and that was comforting.

"I'd never let a single drop go to waste," you said, your voice filled with sincerity. Your eyes are genuine and serene as you watch him, as if you really had no dimension to it. And then, you got filled into his solemn and comforting laughter at your fragile soul causing a pleasant vibration in your body.

...

His eyes opened as if breaking free from a suffocating hold, his head emerging above water, and oxygen flooding back into his lungs. Nevertheless, he remained still, feeling a warm weight on his shoulder and his pants suddenly tighter and less comfortable. Slowly, awareness seeped into his brain, and he became conscious of his surroundings. He felt a sense of worry, unable to move even if he wanted to. Gently, he brushed aside strands of hair from your face without touching your skin, observing how peacefully you rested against him, completely oblivious to his internal turmoil when it came to you.

He gazed at the ceiling, still wrapped in the comfort of your body's warmth against his own. Despite his mind being entangled with images of you, with your hand between your thighs and your cheek pressed against his shoulder, your lips slightly parted and looking so delicate and untouched, he couldn't bring himself to meet your eyes directly anymore. The once sweet thoughts now mingled with wilder and more fervent desires, a concoction of heated emotions that overwhelmed him. He felt like he wouldn't be able to endure all of it until the end. He already felt completely entangled and trapped.

As he lay there, he found himself torn between the conflicting emotions that had taken hold of him. The intensity of his feelings for you had reached a point where he couldn't contain them any longer. It was as if everything had shifted, and what was once a tender connection now burned with a passionate fire. He did desire you and that horrible way, but he had also fallen for you, and it frightened him.

The realization that he had developed such strong emotions for someone so close and yet so out of reach weighed heavily on him. He couldn't help but wonder what would happen if you ever found out, or worse, if he acted on those impulses. He wished he could go back to the simpler times, when he could bask in the innocence of your presence. But it was too late. He had crossed a threshold, and there was no turning back. The feelings were there, tangible and consuming.

On top of it all, the candles still exuded essence as they burned hot and bright before his field of vision.

[sukunasbow]

sick, bellamy blake.

summary: in which you take care of bellamy blake when he catches the virus spreading around the camp!

warnings: fem!reader, kane’s daughter!reader, kinda ‘enemies’ to lovers, mentions of blood and puking, doesn’t exactly follow the original scene from the show, some use of (y/n), and not proof read so grammar but be really trash atm since i wrote this at like five in the morning!

notes: this is lowkey bad and i don’t know if anyone still reads the 100 works but enjoy to anyone who likes this!

“Clarke!” Jasper yells, running towards the drop ship, catching your attention. “What? She’s resting, I’m taking over.” You walk towards the doorway, pulling down the old shirt you have wrapped around your neck to cover your face, wondering what’s wrong now.

Murphy brought back some virus from the grounders, quickly spreading it to almost everyone at the camp. Due to this, you’ve spent the entirety of the night walking around the ship, cleaning up the bloody faces of the people around you and giving clean water to them after Clarke caught the virus and could no longer take over.

As you reach the doorway, your eyes widen when you see Jasper standing next to three boys. One of the boys is being held up by the other two. “Bellamy?” You immediately run towards the boys when you realize who it is, “Jasper, stay outside, you can’t get sick.” You instruct, stopping him from getting any closer to his sick friend. “Come on, help me make space!” You yell, leading the boys towards a dirty cot in the drop ship. “Here, thanks.” You tell them, the boys carefully lying him down before quickly leaving the room full of sick teenagers.

“Bell?!” Octavia rushed towards her brother, who you quickly turn on his side as he starts throwing up blood. “Oh my god.” You squint, somehow still not used to the sight of bloody vomit. As much as you hate the stubborn and self appointed ‘leader,’ you felt awful seeing his current state. “I got this.” Octavia places a hand on your shoulder, letting you know she wants to take care of her brother and have some space, “Call me if you need me.” You nod.

“Hey, get some rest, let me take over now.” You whisper, kneeling down next to Octavia and her sleeping brother. “Are you sure?” She bites her lip, clearly struggling to stay awake. “Yes, go sleep.” You smile. Octavia gives in and accepts your offer, going to sleep near Clarke, still close enough incase anything happens while she’s resting.

Moments later, your eyebrows raised at the sound of Bellamy moving around. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?” You breathe out, trying to be as gentle as you can, awkwardly touching his arm. He opens his eyes even more, squinting to make sure it’s you.

“Oh. I thought you hated me, huh? Yet you’re taking care of me?” Somehow while he’s going through a deadly virus, he still manages to piss you off and be arrogant. “Would you rather me just let you choke on your own blood?” You scoff. He lets out a raspy laugh, coughing up some blood in the process. “Ew.” You fake gag when you notice some of the blood splatter on your shoes, still trying to remain lighthearted. “Shut up.” He huffs. “Let me help, sit up a bit.” You mumble, taking the shirt you previously were using as protection and dipping it into a clean bucket of water, then moving closer to Bellamy. “You need to stay away, stop.” He pushes you away, only now noticing the lack of face covering you have on. “It’s fine.” You move back to where you were, carefully grabbing his face, running your thumb over his cheekbones as you gently dab the wet cloth on his face. The dried blood slowly washes off of his face.

“There he is.” You place the cloth down beside him. “I can finally see your smug face.” You joke, earning an eye roll from him. “All better.” You hum. A small smile appears on your face as his eyes start fluttering shut. Although you’re supposed to be against him and his shit leading skills, you still feel a part of you melting at the closeness between you and him. “Okay, you can go back to sleep.” You laugh at Bellamy’s attempt to stay sitting up and awake. “Wait, no, I should-” He starts, you quickly stopping him from moving. “Bellamy.” You whisper, “Please, just let yourself relax.” You tone is soft and gentle, something that surprises both of you, even more the man, his eyes softening. He feels his own heart melt, which also surprises him.

As he goes back to lying down, he watches as you carefully walk away, weaving around the drop ship, avoiding the other people that are lying down. He catches himself almost smile. Now, he realizes he might feel something opposite of ‘hatred’ towards you, the stubborn daughter of Marcus Kane that always disagrees with him, who he’s supposed to be against.

[xxanaduwrites]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ a residue series installment ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

m’no good

✎ elementary-teacher!reader (miss.honey) x biker!benny 🏍️

summary: in which honey gets the call from johnny that benny’s in the hospital :( cal takes her to him. :’)

warnings: talks of being beaten, descriptions of injury, cursing, lying, crying, being judgy again. it’s an emotional one to say the least, but there’s some sweet moments & a happy ending :)

author’s note: this is NOT in order with the last two parts posted. instead, it’s a future installment in “bein’ married.” you can find the timeline in da main hive masterlist. this is heavily based on the events of the bikeriders movie of benny getting beat up & hospitalized. of course this is my own made-up spin on the situation at hand. idk this idea struck me at 3am & i wrote it in less than a day, so i figured i’d just release it now. you can find a mention of this scenario in session 1 of from the hive 🎙️🐝 this can be read alone if you like, but the interview context could help for sure! x

+ also if you were wondering, i personally picture honey as brittany murphy’s character in uptown girl’s molly gunn! i’ve been obsessing over her style in it & that’s what inspired honey’s style in my writing — especially with the embroidered overalls. you can picture her however you please, & i hope you continue to do as yourself ofc <3

word count: 4.7k (2x longer than the other parts, yay!)

💌 requests are open, send ‘em honey 💋

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

You were in the midst of Sunday dinner with your parents when you got the news. News that would leave you scrambling out of the house in an instant with no thoughts behind your honeydew drop eyes besides him — besides Benny.

Your Pa was comfortable at the head of the table, a cigarette between his lips as he scanned the paper under reading glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. Your Ma had just taken her seat at the table, a forkful stabbing into her salad. So when the phone rang your Pa didn’t even flinch. A result of him being too engrossed in his paper. On the other hand, your Ma sighed in a way that made you know she was evidently too tired to be on her feet again. This led you to announce that you’d get the phone. And you did, pulling it off the reciever and twisting your little finger around the warm yellow chord.

“Hi, you’ve reached The BeeHive. Honey speaking!” You chirped into the phone in your usual honey coated tone. Between your family business that consisted of beekeeping and honey jarring, answering the phone in such a way became rather customary and oddly normal. So much so that no one seemed to bat an eye besides your cousins who laughed every time they called. Absolute menaces indeed.

“Honey?” It was Johnny’s drawl on the line, rough and edgy with a twinge of something you couldn’t catch.

“Oh hi Joh— Mr. Davis!” You cleared your throat and corrected yourself. Trying to remain formal. Trying to remain respectable. Sure, you and Johnny were far from past that. Calling him Johnny instead of Mr. Davis was an entirely different respect that only you, Benny, the wives, and the rest of the guys would ever understand. So your parents? Well, they wouldn’t get that, and besides his kids were still your students after all. “How’s it goin’? Y’need to speak to my Pa? He’s right ‘ere.” You asked, your father’s demeanor easily shifting at the mention, his paper going flat against the table. It wasn’t unusual for Johnny to call your house. No — Johnny was a consistent buyer of your family’s honey. He incorporated it into the Club, handing the guys out honey beers during picnics and meetings. He learned of it from those community events you frequented with your parents, always having some sort of incorporation when catering was involved.

“Nah — nah.” He brushed that idea away rather quickly and your brows furrowed in confusion. “Gotta speak to yuh. Look I — I needa tell y’something, but if your Pa’s overhearin’ I need yuh to pretend we’re talking about the girls, alright?”

“I —“ you began but stopped short trying to compartmentalize what he was saying without reacting. “Oh, right I remember we were gonna talk about the girls' grades, yeah?” You rambled out, your words feeling far too thick coming out of your mouth, it almost didn’t sound like you. You feared your parents would catch on instantly, but instead their interest deflated as soon as nothing you said resembled anything to do with their business. It only took a second for your father to go back to his paper and beer and your mother to her salad.

“That’a good, Honey. Very good.” Johnny praised as you motioned with your hand that you were gonna step out of a sec, which really meant you were gonna pull the chord as far as you could into the other room. The distance — well it wasn’t much. The open archway from your parent’s kitchen to the living room wasn’t sound proof, so they could still technically hear every word you said, but your volume would be at lower frequency for sure, and your reactions practically undefinable.

“They’re doing real good, Mr. Davis. Bright girls you got there.” You muttered out so Johnny would know you were still there. You could feel your heart going a mile a minute as you paced the short distance available you could in restraint of the phone.

“I know. I know. They love ya, Honey, and they’re just fine. No need to worry ‘ere.” He reassured you, and a sigh of relief escaped your lips. The last thing you needed to hear was something bad about those babies. It would absolutely break your heart. But what you weren’t expecting to hear was something that would shatter it into a million little pieces. “It’s uh — it’s Benny.” Johnny said, and every fiber of your being went on fire, burning to ash. “He’s — he’s banged up, Honey. Got ‘im in the hospital and everything. ‘parently some jackasses got ‘im real good at some pub not too far from us. Beat him the fuck up, and broke his foot. Could’a lost the damn thing over his colors.”

A gasp left your lips in an instant, and you almost choked as you swallowed down a whimper to conceal the sudden volcano of tears bound to erupt. Now you understood why Johnny wanted — no needed this conversation to be under wraps. Your parents were already nervous about your ridin’ and to hear about some guys jumping your husband for bein’ part of the Club 'would have your parents in a frenzy. “I’m — I’m so sorry t—to hear that, J — Mr. Davis.” You continued the facade, a facade that pained you even more now as you tied back your emotions so forcfully wanting to rip from the seams. “Is your l-little girl okay?”

“He’s fine. They’re takin’ good care of him last I heard from Cockroach. He’s up and talkin’. Took ‘im to the hospital on the West End.” Johnny explained and little by little, piece by piece the fragments of your heart were starting to come back together, but you knew for certain, they wouldn’t be mended until you saw him. Until you got to touch him. Inspect him. Coddle him. Got to know who the fuck messed with him. “Go ‘n see ‘im. He needs his wife, alright?”

“I will.” You assured him, stepping back to peek through the archway at your parents who were still eating. Thankfully nothing seemed amiss. “I’ll be over soon with the homework she’s gonna miss for the week. Does she need anything else from me? Need a friend to bring her books home tomorrow?” You added in code. Code for ‘Who the fuck did this to him, and how could you help make sure those fuckers never got as close as a mile away from Benny again?’

“Nah. Don’t you be worryin’ now, Honey. The guys and I are on it. We’ll take care of ‘em. You take care of ‘im.” He settled on the plan. “Capisce?”

A wave of relief washed over you then. A relief that could only come from Johnny’s word alone. Cause you knew he’d take care of it. He always did. “Capisce.” You sniffled, not caring anymore if your parents caught on.

“Cal’s already on the way to pick ya up at your Ma’s.” He informed you. “Told ‘em to park around the corner so there’s no suspicion. You can tell ‘em you're stoppin’ by the house.” You never thought a time like this would leave you feeling extra grateful that Johnny and his family only lived a block away from your parents. But here you were, feeling just that.

You wanted to thank him then. The words were resting against your tongue heavily, so you made do with what you could. “Thank you, Mr. Davis. I’ll tell ‘em you said ‘ello. Please send my parents regards to your wife and the girls. I’ll be there soon.”

“Anything for ya n’ Benny. Y’know that. Yuh take care of y’self now, o—kay?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, itching to run out of your house and into Benny’s arms already. If you could. God, you sure hoped he wasn’t too banged up for a cuddle or two. Makin’ him feel a whole lot better was your main concern. “Bye Mr. Davis. See ya soon,” you spoke into the line before stepping heavily across the threshold and accidently putting the phone back on the hook with a little more aggression than you anticipated.

“Sorry,” you tensed and broke out in an innocent smile, “I gotta go to Mr. Davis’s. His girl is sick real bad with the Flu. Doctors says she’ll be out of school for a week and of course there’s all this important testin’ going on. Gotta keep ‘er on track, y’know? Such a good cookie. Get in a fit if she misses one lick of school.” You rambled on, adding more and more to lie you rather not tell, but knew it was for their own good. For your own good. For Benny’s. Your marriage. Your future. What you’d hope would become a bundle of joy or two with his pretty blue eyes and freckled face to match.

“‘Course she does. She’s a Davis after all.” Your father added, a fond smile stretching across his face.

“Oh that’s too bad,” your mother frowned, and then stood unexpectedly, her chair scraping against the kitchen flooring. “Here, I’ll pack ya some honey buns to take to ‘er.” Before you could protest your Ma was already piling some of her homemade buns into a metal cookie container and passing them to you.

“Real sweet, Mama.” You could feel your eyes startin’ to tear up again, that familiar wave of remembrance coming back to remind you what you were really leaving for. A wave of impatience that made your anxieties spike higher and higher at the prospect of more minutes ticking away without you being next to Benny. “M’sure it’ll make ‘er feel so much better in no time.” You kissed your Ma on the cheek in appreciaton and turned to head out.

“Wait,” your Ma said right when you were about to exit the front door with your backpack in tow. Thankfully she didn’t see you mouth a curse into the air with your back towards her. “Y’didn’t even get to touch your dinner. Will ya be back to finish it or should I wrap it up?”

“Nah. That’s ‘ight.” You declined. “I still got leftovers in the fridge for me and Benny from Rosie’s. Heat it up when I get home, but thanks Mama. Save it for yuh and Pa.”

“‘ight. Get’ome safe, Honey.” She called out. Safe. Safe. Benny didn’t get home safe, but he was safe now. Safe in the hospital that is, but was he really safe?

Your fingers gripped the doorhand, knuckles burning white as you took a breath to calm yourself. “I will, Mama. Love ya. Bye!” And then you were out the door, trying to keep your composure as long as you could, until you were out of eyeshot of your Ma and Pa’s. Your ballet flat feet banged against the pavement as you went on running down the rest, a sharp turn at the corner showing Cal by his bike, waiting and ready for you. A fresh cigarette between his lips, just ‘bout to be lit, long forgotten once his eyes landed on you.

It only took one look at him. One frown on those deep set features of his for you to be barrelling at him, strong arms encircling you in a hug.

“Oh Cal!” You cried into his tattered shirt, the dame of tears breaking out of you uncontrollably. Too uncontrollably. But you didn’t care. Couldn’t care. It was Cal after all. The brother you never had. The brother you should have had. The family you now had because of Benny. Because of Johnny. And it wasn’t that you didn’t love your parents — you loved and appreciated them of course, but you never felt fully accepted by them. So being in Cal’s arms was far more comforting than being in the arms of your parents because you could be yourself with Cal, without judgment.

“M’so sorry, Honey. So sorry.” He mumbled into your sun kissed up-do, smelling of fresh vanilla and honey scented soap.

You were crying so hard. Too hard. You’d become a total mess of hiccups and hard breathes. Of course, Cal accessed you accordingly, pulling you from his chest to take a good look at ya. And boy did your rosey cheeks and red rimmed glossy coated eyes destroy him. They really did. He hated seein’ you like this. All the guys did. They loved you far too much.

Cal’s warm calloused fingers circled the apples of your cheeks, brushing away the tear tracks that resided. “It’s gonna be ‘ight. ‘erything gonna be okay.” He cooed, trying to calm you down. “Gotta stay strong for ‘im so he can get betta. Can’t take ya like this. It’ll break ‘im, Honey.”

“I — I know. I know.” You squeezed your eyes shut, wet lashes bowing down. You took a breath. Then another. And another until you felt somewhat better. More calm that is.

“Ready t’go?” Cal asked carefully when he noticed your breaths evening out.

“Mhm,” you hummed, nodding your head.

Cal helped you onto his bike and you clung onto him as you rode. The weight of his jacket felt oddly comforting in your hold. Even though the circumstances of such colors were alarming in such a time, it didn’t leave you on edge by any means. Before you knew it, you were pulling up in the West End. Cal parked his bike, leading you to the front desk and of course the receptionist looked at the two of you kind-of funny.

“Family only.” She said to Cal, immediately putting two-and-two together who he was here for before turning to you, a big smile gracing her features. “How can I help ya, Miss?”

Your emotions were all over the place. Anger bubbling up inside you in an instant, ready to burst at the assumption of such a thing. Sure, it was a common mistake. To be misplaced next to one of the guys in your floral knitted cardigan and patterned jeans to match. But now — now, of all times. It was your last straw.

“That’s ‘is wife. Uh — Honey Cross.” Cal motioned to you, explaining who you were before your rage could ensue.

“Hm — I don’t see a Honey here,” the receptionist said, amusement crossing her features. Clearly pleased by shooting Cal’s advances in an instant. “I’m going to need to see some ID.” She pushed, and you were already ripping off your backpack before she could even finish the sentence.

Cal’s hands materialized around the straps without a second thought, helping you out of the thing but also holding it up for you while you fished for your bedazzled wallet. It was in the deep depths of the thing, mushed around with all your work sheets and lesson plans for the week. You were always equipped and extra prepared, making your supposed trip to the Davis’s for his little girl not amiss one bit. Your cutesy keychain clipped to the end flung about as you finally uncovered it, whipping out your ID with ease. This wasn’t your first rodeo in such a situation, learning from the last time Benny was tossed in a jail cell to get your ID updated with your new last name as soon as humanly possible.

The receptionist looked between you, Benny’s paperwork, and your ID for longer than necessary. “Hmmm, okay. Second floor room twelve, Mrs. Cross.” She finally gave in. “But you’ll have to stay here, Mister.” She told Cal.

He raised his hands up in the air like he was bound to be incarcerated, and the sight almost got a laugh out of you. Almost. “Fine. I’ll be out front when y’ready, Honey.” He informed you, and you nodded.

He helped you put your things back together, and when he caught wind of your name etched into your ID, his eyes widened. “Huh? So that’s y’real name then.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, wedging the thing back into your wallet, snapping it close. And if you thought the receptionist was suspicious earlier, she was far more suspicious now.

His features scrunched up in an innocent way, that long earring of his shaking as he shook his head. “S’cute, but I can’t see ya as anything else but Honey. Be weird if I called y’anything else.”

“I get it,” the edge of your clip curled up in a faint smile then. Your first smile in what felt like ages. You couldn’t help it with Cal. It was hard not to smile around him. “Feels weird calling you Calvin, Caleb, or Calum or whatever. Which is it anyways?” You asked, brows furrowed in confusion at the thought as you zipped your bag closed.

“Don’t matter now.” He patted your shoulders once your backpack was shelled around you. “Time to go see y’man, anyways.”

Turning on your heel, you nodded when you faced him, thanking him profusely and giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek as you gave him a tight hug. Once you let him go, you were off. Darting across the halls and climbing up the stairs, you weaved around the patients in their hospital beds being pushed by nurses and doctors in their lab coats until you made it to room twelve. For a moment, you stopped in your tracks, attempting a warm honey smile to grace your hubby with. To distract him from the evident pain he was having and the deep rooted distraught you felt inside.

But once you turned the corner, oh — you were a goner. There was Benny with a blue blooming zygoma, a swollen and bandaged eye, and his right foot propped up in a form fitted cast. Your heart shattered all over again without your control. Your hubby looked like a beat up puppy dog, and you couldn’t help but frown at the sight.

His blues — well his good one that is — caught your eye immediately. It was hard not to when you came waltzing in like that, all dolled up in a swarming buzz of color and sweet honey perfume. It wafted across the room and the smell touched his nose, warming him up for the first time since he’s been placed in this cold sterile room.

“Honey?” He blinked. Once. Twice. Wondering if your sweet face was an apparition. He told Cockroach not to tell you. Didn’t want you to see ‘im like this. Not until he was out and the brusin’ subsided at least, but he guessed Roach forgot to relay the message to Johnny and the rest of the guys when he told ‘em.

“Oh — my poor baby!” You cooed, racing across the room as soon as his gravelly voice hit your ears. You dotted on him in an instant. Fitting your form on the small empty space at the edge of the bed near his hip, you didn’t even bother pulling over the chair adjacent to his bed. And Benny didn’t mind no.

Even though he wasn’t too happy to see you here, he was happy to feel you here.

Your hand brushed through his hair and caressed the good side of his face, sweet and delicate. Benny couldn’t help but lean his cheek into your comforting touch. For the very first time you watched as a hot warm tear trickled down his cheek and landed on your hand.

“Please don’t let’em take my foot,” he begged, his large warm hands circling around both of yours and dropping them in his lap. “If — If they take my foot then I can’t ride again, and — and then how will I-I take y’to school?”

His sweep of emotions took you by surprise. You’d never seen him cry. Not when he was beaten and bruised in a bar fight. Not when a shard of glass wedged itself into his skin after punching through a car window. Not when you were applying alcohol to his cuts or when he was gettin’ stitches. No Benny never cried. And here he was now. Crying in front of you. In front of his wife. God, of course that just wrecked you.

Sure, maybe someone else would have made a stink. Would have told him that there were bigger things to worry about then his riding. But you wouldn’t do that — no. Besides you, ridin’ was Benny’s biggest passion. And both showed in the way he was most concerned about you. Concerned about taking care of you. How’d he do that if they took his foot and couldn’t take you to work every day. You couldn’t drive. Didn’t know how. It’s not that you didn’t want to, you just never had the time to go get your driver’s license. Not between working at the local diner while you were studying and getting your degree. And now that you had it and Benny well — you had all that you really needed.

“I won’t let ‘em, baby. I promise. I promise.” You assured, pulling his strong hands up with yours and kissing each and every rough rimmed knuckle of his. “As for takin’ me to school. Don’t you worry about that. Took the bus before I met y’anyways. Doesn’t make a difference. I’ll do it until you’re better again, alright?”

But it did make a difference. It did to him. He adored those mornings and afternoons when he had you on the back of his bike, taking you to and from school. He especially loved it when you were still living with your Ma and Pa. It was the little things like that that not only got him through his day, but also made him feel like he was doing something good. Doing something good by you. Makin’ himself seem responsible enough to your parents for being on time and prompt, to marry you. And it worked after a while. He had you now as his wife. In the apartment you shared. In his home. In his bed. While that was all good and great, he couldn’t help but wonder if something like this would set them off.

He grimaced, the thoughts gnawing at him and makin’ him ask you, “do y’parents know?”

“No, no. They don’t. Think I’m at Johnny’s dropping off homework for his sick little girl. Think you’re at work. ‘Member I told ‘em you were working today so you didn’t have to come?” You reminded him.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to throw a little white lie around here and there to your parents about Benny. Sure, he was on good terms with them now thanks to Johnny. Thanks to the fact that their little girl had him as her husband, and they didn’t have too much of a choice. But, that didn’t mean things were perfect. Benny wasn’t much of a fan at the way they treated you from time to time. Especially when they made comments about your decisions. About the way you dressed. He thought you were perfect as is, and it boiled his blood whenever he heard them goin’ on and on about it, especially at Sunday dinners. So sometimes he just didn’t come. Sometimes you didn’t go either. But of course you did today cause you felt bad you hadn’t been in awhile and felt like you needed to see ‘em. They were your parents after all. Now you were regretting not going with him instead. Maybe none of this would have happened if you had never gone to your parents in the first place.

“Hm, right,” he sighed, squeezing your hand in appreciation. “How was it anyways? Did they give ya a hard time?”

“No. Not today,” you replied. “Didn’t have time to. Didn’t even get t’sit down. I should’ve been with y’anyways.”

“No y’shouldn’t of.” He shook his head in disagreement, and then revealed, “m’no good for ya, baby.”

“What?!” You gasped, absolutely baffled by what he was sayin’. “What you goin’ on about?” He hadn’t just really said that? Had he? He did! “S’not true. Not true at all.” Your cute little bee earrings shook as you moved your head back and forth in earnest. “You’re too good t’me —“ He bowed his head down in a silent no. “Far too good,” you repeated, trying to search his eye so he could see you. Really see that you meant every word you were sayin’. “Y’loyal to Johnny and the guys. To me.” You reminded him, but his gaze was still downwards, trained on your conjoined hands in his lap. You brushed your thumb back and forth against his skin. “Lemme ask you somethin’..” you began, “What did y’do when those guys came up to ya, huh?”

“Told ‘em they’d have to kill me to get my jacket off,” he revealed, his response making your lips curl up soundly. That was your Benny right there, your loyal Benny.

“And why’s that?” You asked, pushing on. Trying to get him to the root of his decision.

“Cause…” he shrugged, taking a moment to think about it. “It represents my family….represents you. Hell, I got your patches on it!” His voice was slowly rising in defense, in bits of anger. “Got your name sewed over my heart bigger than a goddamn weddin’ ring will ever be and those fuckers laughed about it!”

A full, bright toothed smile had your dimples peaked like two pretty mountains, and when Benny’s eyes finally found your sweet honey speckled ones — well his anger dissipated. “Ah, c’mere.”

“I don’t wanna crush y—“ you began, worrying about hurting him, but he cut you off immediately.

“C’mere,” he cooed, scooting over just a tad so you could lay next to ‘em. Of course you couldn’t say no to him. Could never ever. Not when he wanted y’so bad. “Need my girl.”

“Alright, alright,” you hummed, rolling your eyes playfully as you curled yourself next to ‘em. A comfortable silence landed over the two of you, one that you were thankful for after everything. After all the fuss of the day. You just wished you could be just like this with him at home in your own bed. His strong arm wrapped around your back, hand cupping your shoulder and you tilted your head onto his own. His lips found your forehead quickly, feeling more pillowy than usual from the impact on his face and your eyes fluttered at the contact. “Oh that reminds me. Did ya eat?”

“Huh?” He hummed confused.

“Did they feed y’here yet?” You tried again.

“Nah,” he replied.

“Fuckin’ hell. Got y’propped up, but can’t feed ya…” you shook your head in disappointment, and your concern for him over something so miniscule within the swarm of everything warmed his heart tenfold.

You moved to get up, but he stopped you short with his hand that was once on your shoulder now materializing on your waist. “Where y’going?” He pouted.

“Nowhere, baby.” You assured him, fingers curling under the good side of his chin so you could leave a soft kiss on his lips which he relaxed in as soon as it came. “Just grabbin’ my bag from the floor. Got some grub — well…” you trailed off, a laugh escaping you as you unzipped your bag and took out the tin your mother gave you. “I know it ain’t dinner, but I say dessert won’t hurt. Doctor’s orders, y’know?” You opened the tin to reveal the fresh honey buns your Mama made then, and God did Benny wanna just eat you up instead. “Y’want?”

He nodded, so you didn’t hesitate in passing one over to him. Both of you enjoyed the sweet treat. So much so, that when a crumb or two fell on your chest, Benny dived right in to access it — and well who were you to protest when his soft lips met your warm skin? When his lips continued their assault around your fingers, cleaning off the sugary residue that remained. And you were happy. So happy and giddy because you were with your Benny. You knew no matter what happened. No matter what came next, the two of you would be alright. Cause that was what marriage was all about, signing up for the good, the bad, and the ugly, being there for each other in sickness and in health.

And in that short hour or so that remained in visiting hours, before the nurse flagged you down to kick you out, you laughed and giggled more than you had in days, and even when you scolded him, warning that a nurse may catch him licking down your chest or sucking your fingers, a smile graced your sweet features the entire time and Benny ate up every single second soundly.

“I fuckin’ love ya, y’know that Mrs. Cross?” He said to you at some point, in the midst of everything.

“I fuckin’ love ya too, Mr. Cross. Always and forever.”

And always and forever it was.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

additional author’s note: AH I COULDN’T HELP MYSELF. PWETTY PLZ DON’T BE MAD AT ME FOR JUMPING OUT OF ORDER. (with a cherry on top 🍒)

my requests are open for any miss honey x benny cross works + any convos about these two in general. don’t be shy honey, i’m all for yapping in the asks.

+ don’t forget to comment if you’d like be added to “da bee hive” (my version of da tag list)

smoochies. all da love xanadu 💋

da bee hive 🐝

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[wannab-urs]

Title: Something Sweet

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: You’re new to the team in Colombia and all alone on your birthday. Your partner, Javier Peña, decides to do something sweet for you. 

Tags: Set vaguely during season 1 before Javi gets extra angsty, canon compliant-ish, reader feeling lonely, sassy!reader, flirty!javi, alcohol (wine), brief mention of a gun bc I feel like a DEA agent wouldn’t just answer the door all willy nilly, kissing, javi asking for consent, but y’all did share a bottle of wine, kissing, fingering f receiving, marking, unprotected PinV, cuddling. I always write angsty Javi, but this is FLUFF, so sorry if it’s OOC, I’m slightly out of my element here. 

WC: 2107

A/N: This fic is a birthday gift for @psychedelic-ink. Sil, you’re a wonderful friend and you do so much for the Pedro Pascal Fandom community on top of being an incredible writer. So, with some help from @pedrorascal with the beautiful gifs, I schemed up a little fic for you. I hope you love it! Happy Birthday and Happy Holidays AHHHH. 

Moving to a new country two weeks before your birthday, which also happens to be Christmas Eve, is not ideal. You moved to Colombia from Miami after a promotion, earning a spot on the elite team working to catch Pablo Escobar. 

The last two weeks have been a whirlwind, trying to catch up on all the facts of the case. You have to learn every sicario by sight and all of their names, aliases, and frequent hang outs. You have to learn about everything Escobar has done in Colombia, all the cartels and how they connect, it’s all extremely exhausting and time consuming. 

Which is why you have no friends yet, unless you count your new partners Javier Peña and Steve Murphy. Which you don’t. You barely know them, and from what you’ve seen so far, Peña is an asshole. Steve might be okay, but you just haven’t had time to get to know him yet. 

You take off your windbreaker and hang it on the back of your chair. It’s kind of ridiculous that you have to work on Christmas Eve, but there’s no rest for the wicked and therefore no rest for you either. You sit down and open the first file on your desk, immediately getting down to business without so much as a greeting for your partners. 

A couple hours into the work day, a shadow darkens your desk. “What do you want, Peña?” 

“God damn, hermosa. Touchy today? I brought you a coffee.” Peña sets the cup of lukewarm black slop on your desk and leans further into your space, peeking at the files you’re reading. 

“Yes, actually. Did you need something or did you just come over here to bother me?” 

“I just came over here to compliment your nails, actually,” he takes your hand in his, inspecting your nails, and then looks into your eyes. “I like the color. Suits you.” 

You feel heat rise to your cheeks. Peña is cute. Gorgeous, really, but you don’t make a habit of flirting with your coworkers. “Thanks… They were my birthday gift to myself.” You tug your hand away from him and place it in your lap. 

“It’s your birthday?” He asks, still leaning much too far into your personal space. You nod and look back down at the file. 

“I have to get back to work now,” you almost whisper to him, all your bitter snark from earlier replaced by a sense of melancholy. There’s not a soul in this entire country who knows it’s your birthday today. Aside from Javier, now, you guess. Javier lingers for another moment before pushing off your desk and leaving you to your work. 

You’re starting to pack up for the day when Peña comes up to your desk again, sitting on the corner. 

 “So what are your plans tonight?” he asks. 

“Huh?” You don’t have any plans. A phone call from your friend in Miami and a bottle of Chilean wine maybe. 

“Your plans? For your birthday?” 

“Oh. I don’t have any. Don’t really know anyone yet so…” you trail off. You feel kind of pathetic, even though you know it’s completely reasonable to not have a group of friends yet. 

“Me and Murphy could take you out?” 

“Oh um–”

“Actually, Jav,”  Steve calls out from his desk. “Me and Connie have plans tonight. Christmas Eve and all,” he gives you an apologetic look. 

“It’s fine really. I’m gonna have a nice relaxing night in. Thanks though.” You put on the best smile you can and head for the door. 

You hang up the phone after your short call with your friend. It’s expensive to call long distance, but she stayed on with you as long as she could. She told you all about her new boyfriend and that everyone had wished you a Happy Birthday and Happy Holidays. You’re grateful she didn’t ask about your job or your love life. 

As you pop the cork on a bottle of wine, there’s a knock on your door. You stare at the door questioningly, as if it will tell you who’s there. Who on earth could be knocking at your door at 8pm on Christmas Eve? 

You grab your gun and sneak over to the door, peeking through the peephole. Broad shoulders and a dark head of hair are all you can make out through the tiny lens. Javier? You set your gun on the side table and pull open the door. 

“Peña? What are you doing here?” 

He turns around and holds his hands out to you. “Brought you something.” He’s holding a birthday cake, clearly store bought, decorated with a generic “Feliz cumpleaños” scrawled on top. A bright smile lights up your face. 

“Oh Javi, you didn’t have to!” 

“I wanted to. You gonna invite me in for some cake?” He raises his eyebrows at you. 

“Oh! Yeah sure. Come in!” You step to the side to let him through and close and lock the door behind him. “Sorry about the mess. I’m not fully unpacked yet.” 

“I’ve been here for 7 years and I’m not fully unpacked. It’s fine.” Javi reassures you. He sets the cake down on your kitchen counter and starts rifling around for plates and silverware. 

“I can do that,” you try to move him out of the way, but he’s having none of it. 

“No, it’s your birthday. Let me. You pour yourself a glass of wine and go sit on the couch.” 

“Fine… thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

You grab a couple glasses and the bottle of wine and carry it to the living room with you. You’re kind of shocked he’s here. He’s always flirty in the office, but he’s like that with everyone. He’s not what you’d call friendly otherwise. Maybe he just feels bad for you. 

Javier drops down onto the couch beside you holding two plates with hefty slices of chocolate cake. He hands you one of the plates and a fork. “Happy birthday. I’m not going to make you do the whole candle thing.”

“Thank you, Javier. This is really, really nice.” You feel like you might cry. It’s just cake, but you felt so alone, and it’s like he really saw you. He saw through whatever exterior shell you were wearing and decided to try to make your day better. 

“Just Javi is fine. And it’s not a big deal, really. You deserve something sweet on your birthday,” he says looking down at the cake in his hands.

“It is to me. A big deal, I mean,” you say softly before taking a bite of the cake. It’s nothing special, just a plain chocolate cake, but it means so much to you. 

You and Javier, Javi, chat about where you’re from and how you came to work for the DEA. You tell him about living in Miami, about the promotion that brought you here. You finish the bottle of wine and a couple more pieces of cake and the conversation doesn’t stop for a long time.

Late in the evening, you finish a story about your 6th birthday, one your aunt always told to the whole family every single year at your birthday dinner. He’s sitting close to you, his thigh pressed against yours despite there being plenty of room on the couch to sit without touching. It makes your heart flutter a little. 

You don’t know if it’s the wine or what, but the little crush you have on him is getting pretty hard to ignore. Javi smirks at you, reaches up, and brushes his thumb over the corner of your lip. 

“Got a little icing there, cariño,” he says, his voice lower and huskier than it has been all night. He brings the icing smeared thumb to his mouth and sucks it between his lips. Your eyes track the movement, pupils blowing wide. He really is pretty. 

You feel yourself lean in toward him, almost unconsciously chasing that thumb to his mouth. He brings his hand up to your cheek and searches your eyes for a moment. He must see what he was looking for because he pulls you closer and presses his lips to yours. 

His lips are soft, warm, gentle on yours. You grab his face in your hands, not wanting him to pull away yet. He slips his tongue along the seam of your lips and you part them, letting him in. You’re not sure who makes the move, but slowly, your back is lowered to the couch, Javi a comfortable weight on top of you. Your hands explore his broad shoulders, the muscles of his back, his trim waist, as he plunders your mouth with his tongue. 

“Can I touch you?” He rasps against your lips. 

“You already are,” you giggle. “Sorry. Yes, Javi.” 

He huffs a laugh into your mouth and slips a hand into your lounge pants, fingers finding your dripping seam. “Wet for me already, hermosa?” 

Your cheeks heat up in slight embarrassment, but you nod. You’re soaked just from kissing him. By the feel of him against your thigh, he’s not better off. He pushes two fingers inside you and presses his lips back to yours. You gasp into his mouth, hands fisting in the back of his shirt. 

His fingers immediately find the spongy spot deep in your core. He curls them, dragging the pads of his fingers along your g-spot with every pump of them inside you. You cling tightly to him, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“Come for me, baby.” 

Your body responds to his command instantly, the tension in your belly releasing into waves of pleasure. Your cunt flutters around his fingers and you whine into his neck as he works you through it. You collapse back onto the couch, and he wastes no time dragging your pants off you. 

You hear the clink of his belt opening, the sound of it hitting the floor. You sit up on your elbows to watch him as he strips off the rest of his clothes. You bite your lip, drinking in the sight of the gorgeous man before you. 

He takes your hands in his and pulls you to your feet before pulling your tank top off you. “Shit, hermosa,” he whispers almost reverently as he takes one of your tits in his large hand, rolling the nipple between two fingers. “Gorgeous.” 

 He kisses you again, wrapping his strong arms around your body and pushing his chest flush with yours. “Bedroom, cariño?” 

You walk him back to your room, barely separating your lips from his for the entire journey. You fall back on your bed and he follows, settling between your legs. His lips drag down your jaw line to your neck as he lines himself up with your entrance. Javi sucks a mark just below your collarbone as he slowly thrusts inside you. 

You wrap your legs around his hips and pull him deeper into you, whining at the stretch. “Fuck, Javi.” 

“Working on it, cariño,” he teases as he bottoms out inside you. He pushes himself up on his elbows and stares into your eyes as he pulls out and thrusts back in smoothly. Your mouth falls open, a little huff spilling out as he bottoms out again. He feels so fucking good inside you. 

Javi sets a steady pace, thrusting into you hard and slow, eyes never leaving yours. When your eyes flutter shut and your back starts to arch in pleasure, he slips his arm under your back, pulling your hips higher on his thighs. The new angle is everything. You gasp out a moan every time his cock punches deep inside you.

Javi is everything in this moment. Your world narrowed to the feeling of his cock pounding into you at that same maddeningly slow, hard rhythm. You feel yourself tightening around him, feel a coil winding in your belly tighter and tighter. 

Javi’s lips find yours again with a kiss that’s more a clash of teeth and tongues than anything as you come hard on his cock. Javi lets out a low groan into your mouth at the way you squeeze him. He thrusts into you a few more times, fucking you through your high, before he quickly pulls out and spills all over your belly. 

He rests his forehead on yours for a moment, catching his breath. He kisses you deeply one more time before falling to the bed beside you. Javi pulls you into his arms, not paying any mind to the mess he made on your stomach. He holds you close, kissing the top of your head. 

“Happy Birthday, cariño.”

[pinguwrites]

A Daughter’s Duty | Cillian Murphy

Pairing -> dark!cillian murphy x stepdaughter!reader

Summary -> You’re stepfather has made a habit of sneaking into your room at night to use you, even when you don’t want it.

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: NON-CON, DARK!!, stepfather!cillian, age-gap (reader’s 18+, Cillian’s early 40s), Cillian’s manipulative and lowkey sexist and just overall disgusting, stepdaughter!reader, reader’s innocent, p in v sex, ddlg kink, use of daddy/little girl nickname, mention of periods, implied reader’s mother is neglectful, I got this idea off a porn video lol, mention of porn

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.

A/N: Probably gonna make a part two of the first time they did it 🤭 which I guess will be called part one lol

“You awake?” your stepfather, Cillian Murphy, asked, lightly knocking. Your bedroom door was slightly open, and before you could even answer, he pushed it to the side, walked in, and turned the lock.

“Mhm.” You put aside your schoolwork and turned off the desk lamp. You immediately went to Cillian, wrapping your arms around his waist, burying your face in his chest. He was warm, like always, and he immediately put his hands on your back, rubbing up and down in a soothing manner.

“Feeling alright? I know you just had your period,” he said, lifting your chin up. You noticed a dark look in his eyes, but you ignored it. “Do you need anything? Snacks? Heating pad? Massage?”

You shook your head. “Could we just cuddle?”

Your mother hated it when you two were close like this, despite the fact that she never tried to be affectionate with you. She was out now, however, partying at some friend’s house, so it’s not like she would know.

Cillian nodded and lifted you up, placing you down on the bed. He covered both of you with the blanket and started peppering sweet kisses on your face and down your neck.

“Little girl,” he cooed. “How did I get so lucky?”

You giggled. “How did I get so lucky?” you said in response, resting your head on his shoulder, when you noticed his fingers circling your clit through your panties. “Daddy, not now.”

He didn’t listen, and continued brushing his fingers against your clothing.

“I don’t feel like it,” you protested, trying to close your legs. “Can we do it later?”

Cillian still didn’t say anything. He crawled on top of you and planted a hot and heavy kiss on your lips, forcing his tongue inside, his hands slipping under your bra.

“Mmph!”

You didn’t struggle, knowing that your stepfather would never hurt you, but you did feel uncomfortable. Your pussy was starting to get a little hot, but even as your body reacted positively, your mind was still frazzled.

Cillian pulled away, a string of saliva attaching you both, until it broke.

He pinched your nipples through the bra and pulled on them, waiting for them to go hard. “Daddy!”

“Shh,” he murmured, leaning in to suck on your breasts. He licked them until he was satisfied, cupping them in his hands, leaving your bra with wet spots. It clung to your skin.

It did felt good. It always felt good, but it wasn’t about that. It was sweet, but it felt forced. Cillian had never forced you like this before.

“You just said you were feeling well,” he said, looking deep into your eyes. “You’ll like it. I’ll make sure.”

Cillian rubbed his clothed cock it between your legs, humping you like a horny animal. He let out quiet noises, holding you in place. Eventually, your panty got too wet, so he ripped it off, took off his own clothing, keeping his shirt on, and started grinding skin to skin.

“Yes,” he breathed out, sliding his fat cock through your folds. “So wet, such a pretty pussy.”

You whimpered. “Daddy, not now—”

“—Take off that damn shirt,” he growled. “Show me those tits.”

You hurriedly pulled your bra up, your breasts spilling out with a bounce that held Cillian captivated.

“Slap them for me,” he ordered. He held the tip of his cock and vibrated it on your clit, making you shudder in pleasure.

You did as he asked, trying your best to focus. As you tweaked and hit and played with your breasts, he watched, praising you, telling you what a good girl you were.

“You don’t do this for any other man, okay?”

“Yes, daddy.”

Cillian smiled sweetly at your response.

He positioned himself, pressing his body close to yours, your legs up and bent over his. You couldn’t move, all you could was push your hands up against his chest.

“Daddy, please, no.”

Cillian started thrusting. It wasn’t a very fast pace, but it wasn’t slow either. It had a rhythm, one he made sure got him as deep inside of you as he could.

He grunted. “So fucking tight. Need’a do this more often.”

You moaned, arching your back, a reaction you couldn’t help. “How often?”

“Every day.”

You stared at him, not sure what to think.

“Ah, I know. I know I said only once a week, but you know how Daddy gets. Remember what I said about men?”

You nodded. The first time he’d done this, he had sat you down. He told you that you needed to be taught about pleasure, and all things grown-up now that you were ready. He explained to you how men needed to fuck often, that it was a primal instinct, and that for him, you were the one he needed. He showed you how to suck his cock, how it felt like to be sucked in return — he even showed you porn.

It was a topic you had known little about. It was all so exciting and knew, and he made you feel safe and comfortable.

Well, except for now. You were rather uneasy as he pressed his body weight onto you, as his cock — that you always whined was too big — pushed in and out of you, stretching your walls, filling you up until you weren’t sure there was and space left.

“Ngh, y-you’re raping me, daddy,” you whimpered.

Cillian huffed, almost amused. He stopped thrusting, only for a moment, then he pushed his cock as deep inside of you as he could. You cried out, but he was too focused on the feeling of your walls clenching to notice.

“Ah!”

“Daddy’s raping you, hmm?”

“Yes!” you squeaked out, pushing your hands up against his chest. You were starting to feel a little sore.

“Where’d you learn such a big word like that?”

You didn’t answer, just kept struggling against him.

“Mmm, love it when you squirm like this,” he moaned in your ear. He grabbed your hands and put them to the side, only to completely drape his body over yours and let go.

You tried to push him off, but all you could reach was his back, and it was futile. A warm feeling coiled up in your lower stomach, and you knew you were about to cum.

“Come whenever you feel like, princess,” Cillian said, your pussy fluttering around his cock. “I’m not stopping till I feel like it.”

It wasn’t that it was hurting. It was just that you didn’t want it, at least a few minutes ago. Why couldn’t he understand?

“I know you don’t like it sometimes, but it’s your responsibility to please me. Just like it’s my responsibly to please you. You’re about to cum, aren’t you?”

You could feel your pussy heating up even more, that familiar feeling slowly building up.

“Yes.”

“Good girl. Such a good girl for me.”

Your heart warmed at his words, despite how taken advantage of you were feeling.

“Daddy — please, ungh.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, “fuck, fuck.”

You both came around the same time. He took out his cock and held it by your face, his white cream spilling out on your lips, dribbling down your chin. Your own dripped down to the bedsheets. The ecstasy made you dizzy, but the good kind, and only for a moment.

“There ya go, sweetheart.”

Cillian wrapped you up in his arms. He rubbed his nose against yours, and then kissed it, his beautiful blue eyes filled with love and adoration.

“You liked that?”

“. . . I asked you to stop,” you mumbled, looking away.

Cillian sighed. It was one of disappointment, which made you feel like shriveling on the inside.

“But you liked it.” He ran his thumb across your cum-stained lips. “I would never have done it if hurt you. There was no pain, was there?”

“No,” you admitted.

“See?” Cillian paused for a moment, then chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. “I would eat you out, but I have a feeling you’d say no.”

You glared, but to him it was adorable, not menacing.

“Alright, alright. How about we go downstairs and watch a movie? One of those princess ones?”

A smile made its way onto your face, though you tried to hide it. You were still upset.

“Fine.”

“Good girl,” he said, lowering his tone. He picked you up and held you bridal style. “But first, let’s clean you up, yeah?” He swiped a bit of his cum from your skin. “Can’t have you on the couch covered with this.”

Taglist:

@henrywintersdearestgirl

@shroombloom-rry

@meetmeatyourworst

@mrkdvidal1989

@nela-cutie

@obsessionandmadness

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

He’s mine || Billy the kid x oc!reader

Summary: Mrs Riley’s affection for Billy does not go unnoticed by you, or anyone for that matter. There was hardly competition because unlike her, you weren’t married and sworn to another man, but Mrs. Riley just needed a little push over the edge and she would be done for. What you didn't expect however, was that you would be there at the scene of her downfall.

Warnings: slightly dark oc! mention of blood, shooting, oc sorta manipulates Billy, possessiveness, guilt trapping, violence, mention of dead body

Wc: 4,712 this is a loooong one, longest one ive ever written lol.

A/n: Sofía does not back down when it comes to getting what she wants is all I gotta say 😃 also it's sorta long because I'm basically retelling some of the scenes from the btk episode but with sofia in it so..

Divider by @pommecita

In Mr. Murphy's sprawling house, the air buzzed with animated conversations, and the linger familiar scent of alcohol and smoke added to the vibrant atmosphere. You and Billy navigated the lively gathering, your hand on Billy's arm.

"There he is," A voice murmurs softy, pulling your attention away from Billy. "Billy! Come here." John Riley, Murphy's right hand man, beckoned him over for a chat. You could sense the hesitation within Billy but Mr. Riley persists. "I would like to introduce you to my wife," He rests his hand on the woman's waist. She looked no more than 3 years older than you, her hair elegantly arranged in a bun as she showcases her pearly white smile.

"Honey, this is the fella I was telling you about, this is Billy the Kid," Because of how tall Billy was compared to majority of the people here, Both Mr. and Mrs. Riley had to gaze up at him. "Billy belongs to The House now. This is Irene," John gestures to his wife.

Watching the entire ordeal by his side, you saw a glint of desire in Irene's eyes. "Howdy," Billy tips his hat nonchalantly, sporting a bored expression as Irene extends her hand out for a shake. Your gaze drifts around the room, noticing eyes already fixed on you as your hands delicately squeeze Billy's arm.

"So, you're a cowboy, are you?" She grins broadly, the smile stretching from ear to ear, her hand lingering on Billy's just a beat longer than deemed necessary for a married woman with high status like her. "Oh, he's an outlaw, baby," Mr. Riley corrects his wife with a sly smile. Leaning in, he murmurs into her ear, "This man's wanted for murder."

Irene subtly inches closer to Billy, her voice gentle and soft, "Well, it sure is nice to meet such a handsome outlaw." Her eyes carefully trace his features as Billy, feeing a tad bit awkward, manages a brief, but tentative smile, then glances towards Mr. Riley. "Billy," He bids him goodbye, tension already simmering, and he draws Irene along with him, her gaze remaining fixed on him.

"I don't like her," You assert boldly as Billy smiles, he loved it when you were up front with him. He turns to face you, his hand gently on your waist while the other finds its place at the base of your neck. "Me neither, sweetheart. She looks like trouble, and I don't want that," He reassures you, affirming his unwavering loyalty.

"Hey Billy," James Dolan interrupts his conversation with Jesse. "Uh, we've, uh, set up a little fun thing for you to do," he says, fixing an intense gaze on Billy. You set your glass down, and Jesse glances at you. "See, everyone here, they want to see what you can do with a gun, hmm?"

At the mere mention of guns, Billy's gaze shifts to the floor, and he leans back on the table behind him. "They've all heard the stories." Jesse uncomfortable shifts as you observe Dolan, "Murphy thinks it would be a great idea for you to give 'em all a little- you know- demonstration." He playfully slaps Billy's chest.

"Yeah? No." Billy says flatly, turning to leave before James firmly grips his arm "Okay, okay, Billy." He shakes head, his hands resting on his hips. You narrow your eyes at him, not liking him already. "I see you don't understand how the wicks. We're paying you a whole lot of money, so if we ask you to do something small for us in return," Billy's head drops, "we expect you to do it."

"Now, come this way," He gestures, anticipating Billy's compliance. Instead, Billy stands his ground, "I don't feel like doing that," You glance between Billy and James who kisses his teeth and beckons for a man named Jimmy.

Jesse turns around to face the table, pouring himself a glass of alcohol before extending the offer to you. A subtle shake of your head declines the offer, but Billy eagerly accepts, tossing his head back with a satisfied expression. James whispers into another man's ear, Jimmy you assume as he then continues to tell Billy how he should do this little, to show everyone how good he was.

"You can do that for us, yes?" Jimmy holds Billy's shoulder, his gaze on the floor once again. "And if you agree there, Billy, we got you a little gift, hmm?" James adds as he opens a wooden box revealing a gleaming double action revolver.

You weren't an expert on firearms but the subtle widening of Jesse's eyes before he averts his gaze signifies the weapon's quality "It's brand new. Very expensive. We think you're gonna like it," Jimmy adds as he and James stare at Billy.

Billy's gaze shifts from the gun to the two men standing before him. A momentary hush envelops the room before his eyes meet yours and Jesse's. A sigh escapes him as he sets his glass down.

Billy picks up the gun, inspecting it, before toying with it, eliciting gasps from those around the room. He then tucks it in his gun belt, pouring himself a reasonable amount of whiskey and downing it in one determined gulp. You approach Billy, placing a reassuring hand on his forearm as he wipes the corner of his lips.

"You sure you wanna do this?" You gently ask him, already knowing his reluctance. "What choice do I have, Sof?" He mutters before he's urged to move on.

"Ladies and gentleman, our friend Billy here's gonna demonstrate his gifts as a gunslinger and the reason why we hired him to protect all of our interest. Yeah?" Major Murphy's voice resonates with authority as Billy loads the gun barrel.

You stand alongside Jesse, a tantalizing sip of alcohol hovering at the edge of your lips as you observe the unfolding spectacle. Just a few feet away, Irene grips her satchel, her eyes wide with anticipation. "Come on, Billy!" Murphy exclaims, his applause echoed by the enthusiastic claps of those surrounding you.

Billy wipes his mouth, clearing his throat before fixing his gaze on the targets ahead. The initial shots are a breeze, a mere warm-up for someone of Billy's caliber. In a lightning-fast span of three seconds, all five glass bottles shatter, eliciting an eruption of applause from the captivated crowd.

You smile to yourself, you knew Billy was very skilled, this ordeal demonstrating it even further. He returns to the table where a range of guns were displayed. There's a palpable tension—anger, annoyance, perhaps both—etched across his features.

The stress of the last couple of days working for Murphy, threatening people out of their own homes, has left its mark on him. Night after night, Billy sought solace in you, pouring out his emotions as you offered him nothing but a listening ear and a comforting embrace.

In a swift motion, he removes his tie, choosing another revolver with a sense of purpose. The murmuring crowd hushes as Billy cocks the firearm, once again targeting cans on the ground—now more challenging to spot and precisely aim at, but not for Billy.

With each bullet making contact with the tin, a collective flinch ripples through the crowd, including Mrs. Riley. Unfazed, Billy seamlessly transitions to a rifle. He fires a few shots at a measured pace before seamlessly shifting into a rapid sequence of shooting, cocking, and repeating.

The tension in the crowd palpably escalated as Billy's anger became increasingly evident. The wooden backdrop itself caught fire amid his repeated shots, casting a fearful hush over the onlookers, the only audible sound being the ominous crackling of the flames.

You maintained a composed stance, your gaze unwaveringly fixed on Billy. He, too, remained motionless, likely processing the chaotic scene unfolding. A swift glance at Mrs. Riley revealed her frightened demeanor. Billy wiped his mouth, setting the rifle down, and approached you. Without a word, he took your hand, pulling you along as your eyes briefly connected with Irene, navigating through the subdued crowd.

"You okay, Billy?" You gently ask him knowing he was still fired up from before. He was sat on the bed, arms resting on his thighs with his legs open. You slot yourself in between them as your hands run through his hair, a tender attempt to soothe him.

He tilts his head back, his hands roaming around your back and down your . "You still seem stressed," You frown as he stares at you quietly, though the glint of mischief was still evident in his eyes. "I can fix that," You whisper against his lips before he kisses you aggressively, hungry, starving for more.

~

The saloon buzzed with the clinking of glasses and the shuffling of cards as Mrs. Riley sauntered in. Her eyes, keen with mischief, spotted Billy at the table, surrounded by others as he was deeply engrossed in the poker game, his attention fixed on the cards in his hands.

"Hey there Irene. Come to join in?" Sam says as Mrs. Riley smiles, "If you'll have me, Sam," As she approached, she ignored the way your hand rested on Billy's thigh as your eyes stay focused on the cards in his hands. Mrs. Riley couldn't help but cast a flirtatious glance his way, something that Billy doesn't catch on, but you do, and Charlie, who was seated on your other side.

"Good evening, gentleman," Her high pitched voice greets as you supress a subtle eye roll. True to their gentlemanly nature, they all reciprocated with polite greetings, Billy even taking his hat off as you remained silent. You silently threw daggers her way.

Your dislike towards the woman started from the second you caught her eyeing Billy when she sat beside her husband in the carriage. Even with Billy’s hands on your waist and the close proximity between the two of you that was more than platonic, it didn't seem to deter her away—drew her more in perhaps.

Undeterred, Mrs. Riley leaned in closer to Billy, her words tinged with flirtation. "My! It's Billy the Kid, isn't it?" She purred, a blatant expression of infatuation adorning her face, her smile captivating display aimed directly at him.

Billy's gaze finally shifts toward her for the first time since she stepped into the saloon. "Yes, ma'am," he responds politely, offering no more than a slight smile before his attention returns to the worn wooden table before him. You gently squeeze his thigh, and as his eyes meet yours, a silent understanding passes between you.

"Do not call me that," Irene interjects abruptbly. "It makes me feel old, and I am not old." She states, exhaling through her nose."I didn't mean to suggest you were," Billy quickly backs himself up.

Your gaze shifts to Charlie, and a subtle exchange of glances circulates the table. "I'm really so happy to see you, Billy," she utters, a faint smile playing on her lips, her voice lowering ever so slightly. The weight of her words hangs in the air, and Billy, in response, squirms uncomfortably in his seat.

You extend your hand gracefully above the space between you and Billy, a subtle bridge in the air. "Sofía Del Tobosco," you introduce yourself, your voice carrying the weight of confidence. Yet, she meets your greeting with a blank, unwavering stare, leaving the air between you tinged with an intriguing tension as the others on the table watch on.

"We haven't properly met, I'm Billy's-" "Aren't you Dulcinea's little sister?" With narrowed eyes, you retract your hand, an awkward silence settling over the table, "I'm good friends with her ya know," Mrs. Riley giggles, leaving you to decipher her intentions at the mention of your sister. A simple hum escapes your lips as you inhale sharply, shooting an annoyed look to Charlie, who quietly chuckles.

"Wanna start a new game?" Sam cuts through the silence. Irene gracefully declines the offer, "Oh, no. You go on. I'll watch," she smiles. "Good," you mutter under your breath, a quiet comment that only Billy and Charlie seem to catch.

Mrs. Riley gracefully raises a wine glass, "Here's to you, Billy," she toasts, her gaze unwavering as she lifts it to her lips. Billy's expression remains inscrutable as he watches. The corners of his lips hint at a subtle upward twitch before he speaks, "Well, we should get going."

You gladly agree with Billy as you get ready to leave, "Gentleman-" "Oh, no. Don't go," Irene cuts him off as Billy freezes, "Stay." Despite being on your feet, you cross your arms, fixing her with an irked expression. "Walk me home later?" She nervously proposes, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

Your lips part in astonishment at her words. There was no way she asking that from Billy when clearly, he has a girl by his side. Billy's eyes flicker towards you, a subtly nod indicating his loyalty. Mrs. Riley persisted, "Please, Billy?" Just as you open your mouth to respond, Sam beats you to it.

"I'll walk you home, Irene," Sam says, diffusing the tension in the air. The relief on Billy's face is palpable as you gently touch his bicep and he glances at you. He bids farewell to the table, and you follow suit, exiting the saloon with Billy. His hand extends behind him, finding yours as he pulls you along with a certain urgency, knowing what the rest of the night would entail.

~

Amidst the haze of smoke and the lingering scent of alcohol, Jesse and his gang sprawled across the room, resting a chaotic atmosphere. You were making small talk with the people around like the mannered young woman you were.

Your keen eyes wandered around the room before landing on Mrs. Riley, who was making her way to Billy. You narrow your eyes, “Has she learnt absolutely nothing?” Your words spat out with an unmistakable tone of annoyance. Charlie lets out a subdued chuckle, shaking his head as he swirled the glass of alcohol in his hand, a wry smile playing on his lips as he watches Billy and Irene.

"Hello there, Billy," Irene came up behind him, a huge grin plastered on her face. "Mrs. Riley," he politely greeted her, a trace of urgency in his tone, "I wanted to see you. I really—I want to talk to you. I need to." Her words were slurred. Sensing trouble, Billy discreetly scanned the surroundings, his eyes discreetly seeking you.

"Uh- maybe now is not a good time," He made a move once his gaze fixated on your silhouette. "Oh no, definitely now. I have something to say," Irene interjected, pulling Billy back with a subtle sigh escaping him. "Get me another drink, will ya?" Her request carried an undertone of desperation, a silent plea to retain his focus.

Billy surveyed her, noticing the telltale signs that she had indulged in one too many drinks. "Sure," he bobbed his head before moving to find a servant holding glasses full of alcohol. "Gracias,' Billy thanked the woman with a smile before he redirecting his attention back to Mrs. Riley.

She gracefully retrieved the glass from his hand, her fingers delicately lingering on his before she flashed a captivating grin, taking a sip. "What did you want to say?" Billy, with a subtle furrow of his eyebrows, gently steered her back to the purpose of their conversation.

Mrs. Riley gulped. "I want to tell you about my husband," she began, and Billy couldn't help but notice a subtle shimmer in her eyes, dulled by the influence of whiskey. "What about your husband?" Billy questioned, a hint of confusion coloring his expression, uncertain where the conversation was headed.

"I- I hate him," she confessed, punctuating her words with another gulp of whiskey. At the abrupt confession, Billy's gaze eagerly sought yours once again. "You can't even imagine," She shook her head, her voice trembling. "Maybe this isn't the place to talk about this," Billy pointed out as he nervously looked at the people around who could possibly be listening.

There was silence in the air as Billy's words manage to sink into Irene's head. "No," she utters softly, delicately placing her glass on a nearby table. "Light my cigarette, will ya?" She gazed up at Billy, who sighed but complies, retrieving a packet of matchsticks from his pocket and igniting the end of her cigarette.

From afar, you were silently raging inside as you watch the two interact. You knew Mrs. Riley's affection was more than friendly, oh it was more than that. "I feel like I'm going to be sick," You mutter with an eye roll, fishing out a cigarette from your purse.

You move the end of the joint to a nearby candle letting it ignite as you take a few deep drags, eyes glued on Billy and Irene. "Thank you," Irene said lowly, her eyes looking off to the side before she directs her gaze back at Billy. "You know, you're very good-looking, Billy,"

Billy wets his lips, casting his gaze downward, an air of discomfort lingering in the unusual tension between them. "Can we go somewhere? I like you," she murmured, drawing nearer with a drop in her voice.

Billy knew what she was trying to do and he wanted nothing of it. He locks eyes with you for a fleeting moment, your silhouette veiled in smoke, a clear sign of your annoyance. "I don't think that's a good idea," He firmly says as Irene's hopeful expression drops. "Please. Please, Billy," She pleaded. There was something uneasy about how she was begging him.

"I told you I hate him. I have to get away." Mrs. Riley persisted as Billy's eyes search hers. He ignored the unsettling feeling in his stomach, "No. I'm sorry, Mrs. Riley." She pursed her lips before she lightly shook her head, her eyes closing for a brief moment, an acknowledgement of his rejection.

"Never mind," She giggled softly to herself, "It's not your fault," Irene gave Billy a smile before it drops slowly as if something inside of her was sinking. The two of them stood there for a couple of seconds before Billy felt her lips on his.

"What is she doing-" You stub your cigarette on the table, ready to storm off in Billy and Irene's direction before Charlie subtly interjects, his arm forming a barrier in front of you. Your eyes were wide in shock after witnessing the unexpected kiss. "Did you see that? Tell me you saw that, Charlie," you exclaimed, shooting him a pleading look.

"Yes, yes I did. But causing a scene won't help, besides, I think someone else could do that," Charlie whispered in your ear, prompting you to give him a puzzled look as your nails dig into his arm.

Charlie cocks his head to where Mr. Riley was, a few feet away from the two, standing with a few other men. You smirk to yourself, imagining the havoc you would create when you redirect Mr. Riley's eyes to Billy and Irene kissing. Charlie removes his arm from in front of you as you straighten up.

Seizing the moment, you deliberately raised your voice, "Is that Mrs. Riley with Billy?" The words echoed through the room, catching the attention of those nearby.

Mrs. Riley's husband, mere feet away, overheard the commotion. Anger flashed in his eyes as he turned to witness the scene, realizing his wife's inappropriate proximity to Billy. Without a word, he stormed out, following Mrs. Riley into the night.

You push your purse into Charlie's chest, "Watch this for me, will ya?" You gave him no time to answer before you were already moving away from him. You made purposeful strides to follow Mr. and Mrs. Riley, leading you outside.

"Hey!" You hear John's voice yell loudly as you hastily conceal yourself around the corner. You peeped from the corner as your eyes widen; John had a firm grip on Irene who was whimpering. "You fucking, lousy fucking bitch." He seethed, his hold on his wife unwavering.

"What do you mean?" Irene fired back, "I saw you in there, with Billy," John lowered his head as Irene shut her eyes. "I know what you were doing, You was trying to get him to fuck you, because you're a little fucking whore!" He taunted her, violently shaking her slender frame.

Both Mr. and Mrs. Riley seemed the slightest bit drunk. Sensing the intensity, you quietly moved to another spot to hear them better, "I'm tired. I want to sleep," Irene pleaded helplessly, pulling away. Her once-neat bun now betrayed signs of disarray.

"I've had enough of you. Do you understand?" John forcefully pulled her back towards him, and Irene released a pained groan. "You're a fucking embarrassment. You're always out there in heat. It's fucking disgusting and I've had e-fucking-nough!" He yelled in her face.

Part of you wanted to go out there and confront him, but what would that do? Your gaze involuntarily fell on the revolver snug in his gun belt—John Riley, a man not hesitant to use it, especially if he discovered you eavesdropping on their private dispute.

"So have I!" Mrs. Riley yelled back, making you slightly jump at the suddenness of it. "I've had enough of you; I hate you!" She roughly shoved him off of her, stumbling as she walked away.

From where you were hiding, you could see what she was doing. What she was reaching for in her garter. A revolver. Swiftly turning, she cocked it and fired, the shot lacking precision. Her lack of aim resulted in wounding John's upper right arm, and you instinctively covered your mouth to stifle a gasp, your eyes widening in shock.

Meanwhile, Billy had been searching everywhere for you. His search for you led him out front of the house where the unmistakable sound of a gunshot pierced the air, prompting his head to whip in the direction of the noise.

Against the wall, you pressed yourself further, a silent witness to the unfolding chaos. In a single, fluid motion, Mr. Riley drew his gun, the metallic click resonating in the tense atmosphere before a decisive shot rang out. Her body dropped to the floor where you saw a clear view of the blood pooling around her body.

Your hands covered your mouth in both shock and horror. Trembling with fear, you couldn't tear your eyes away. At the echo of a second gunshot, Billy sprinted to the side of the house. The urgency became palpable – you needed to leave, immediately. Peeking cautiously around the corner, you saw John's back, hunched and vulnerable, as he clutched his wound.

You quickly slip out before you bump into a hard surface. Your eyes widen in shock as Billy stares down at you, his eyebrows knit in confusion yet his gaze reflecting genuine concern. Before he can question about your unexpected presence, his attention shifts behind you to where Irene's lifeless form lies sprawled on the ground.

His gaze then locks onto John, who winces in pain. "She's dead!" Billy instinctively pushes you to safety behind him; your breathing is quick and shallow, your chest heaving with rapid breaths. Billy's gaze remains fixed on Mrs. Riley.

"What did you do?" His voice turns cold, and the unmistakable sound of him cocking his gun follows. "Billy!" you whisper-yell, hand urgently tugging on his shirt. "She shot me! She tried to kill me!" John points to his bleeding wound, your fear lingering despite Billy's protective stance. "Now, get me some fucking help!"

"Hey, hey, hey, hey!" James Dolan rushes in between the two, "what the hell is happening?" Billy's aim at John doesn't falter. "You're friend killed his wife." You flinch when John's yell rang through your ears, "She shot me! Look at me!"

"Okay, okay, just.... Billy," Dolan puts his hand on Billy's arm, lowering the gun, "Billy, put it down, all right?" Billy complies but hesitates when he puts his gun back in the safety of his belt. You clutch onto Billy's arm as pulls you into his chest, relief flooding through you as he holds you tightly.

"Hey, go fetch the doctor, huh?" You hear James yell. Unbeknownst to you, Billy's eyes stayed glued on Irene. His lip quivering slightly. There had been so much life in her just a couple minutes before, and now, he stared at her lifeless body, blood soaking into her dress.

As his hand moved to caress your hair, his eyes snap to James and John. James was ushering John to go back inside so that he could help him until Billy interjects. "We need a fucking sheriff!" He yelled, as you felt the vibration of his chest in your entire body as you clung to him even more.

"Billy, Billy please, take me out of here," You pull his face down in between your hands as he gazes at your desperate eyes. "Just, just get out of here!" James instructs the onlookers. Billy brushes the sweaty strands that framed your face back. "Sh, it's okay, 'm right here, sweetheart," He pulls you back into the warmth of his chest as you let out a choked sob.

~

“What were you doin' there?” The question, anticipated and inevitable, lingered in the air. Placing your cup on the kitchen counter, you turned to face Billy, his eyes fixed on you, awaiting your response. His expression, an enigma.

Exhaling through your nose, you crossed your arms, eyes drifting to the plant in the corner of the room. "I just wanted to check if she was okay, stumbling around the house drunk, Billy," you lied, leaving the part out where you saw them kissing and discreetly letting Mr. Riley know of the inappropriate behaviour his wife was partaking in.

Pushing off the counter, you approached Billy, your feet closing the distance. His legs, too long for the table, faced you, stretching out.

"Then Mr. Riley came, so I hid... And then it happened," you explained, shrugging. A sigh escaped your lips as you settled beside him, your hand offering a comforting squeeze to his thigh.

Billy scrutinized your features, finding sincerity in your eyes, yet sensing an underlying truth—you didn't truly care about Mrs. Riley's death. Your behaviour around her proved it.

"I just can’t stop thinking ‘bout it," Billy admitted, fingers toying with the mug handle before him. "Of course you can't, Billy-" You were cut off as Billy spoke, "She was even begging me! Fucking begged me to take her somewhere, away from him."

You bit your lip, containing your reaction to this new revelation. Irene begging him to take her away? Mr. Riley's accusatory words echoed in your mind, You were trying to get him to fuck you

"I-I should’ve done something. If I had taken her somewhere, she'd probably be alive right now," Billy stammered, and you moved to cradle his head, ushering him to stop. "Billy. Billy, stop." You spoke calmly, though turmoil brewed within.

He blamed himself for Irene's death, carrying the weight of responsibility for her demise, a fate she brought upon herself by flaunting more than friendliness—brazenly, in front of her husband.

"It is not your fault that Irene was murdered, okay?" you reassured him as he fell into silence. "Still, takin’ her somewhere could’ve helped-" "Stop!" You abruptly shouted, making Billy flinch in your grasp.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath before releasing your hold on him, and Billy stared at you in shock. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. I just-" You halted, inhaling again to gain your composure.

“Do you really think nothing bad would’ve happened to either you or Irene if you did take her somewhere? Billy, Mr. Riley would not have taken it lightly if he found out you did take his wife somewhere,” you reason with him.

Billy nodded slowly. "Yeah, you’re right." You gave him a tight smile, patting his thigh. "I should probably get going, Jesse wants to meet up with me." Billy stood, adjusting his hat, and you rose from the seat.

"Okay, be safe." Approaching him, you smiled up, and he slipped his arm around your waist. "I love you." Leaning in, you replied, "I love you too," your lips meeting in a tender connection.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 92 (Conrad's First Love)

cw: Conrad getting pretty spicy 🌶️🌶️🌶️ and not with Heather; references to human and drug trafficking (not depicted).

Follows the events of this post.

As she passed him to put away her gloves, a stunning redhead at Pappy Murphy's Boxing Gym caught Conrad's eye. Though he'd been deep in another bout of anger and self-pity over the death of his mother years earlier, he stopped his workout. Every inch of his being compelled him to talk to her.

She turned with a smile before he could stammer a single word. "Hi, handsome. Did you want a better look?"

He nervously introduced himself and she told him her name. "Ximena." The word floated from her lips like a song. He was instantly smitten.

"Ximena, could I buy you a drink?"

They spent the day in a local pub. He told her everything about his mother's death and his distance from his father in the years since. She listened, but she had a lot less to say about herself. "I live here with my brother. I'm a student, and I'm the only caretaker he has. Our parents aren't around anymore, and it's been just Rafa and me for years."

He could hear an accent when she spoke, and most people in Britechester weren't locals, so he made an assumption. "How long since you moved from Selvadorada?"

Surprised by his guess, she turned defensive. "I don't talk about Selva."

He liked her too much to press and push her away, so they spent the rest of the day flirting and discussing their interests until Ximena invited him back to her place. "You make me laugh, Conrad Gordon. My brother's still at school and I want to get to know you better without all this noise. I hate the music they play in here."

Once Conrad followed her out of the bar and back to the small home she shared with her kid brother, Rafa, he started following her everywhere.

He lost his virginity to her a week after they met. That night, she told him why she left Selvadorada.

"I was going to die or they were going to kill me. I wouldn't let them sell me to anyone anymore, so I made a plan and left with my brother in the middle of the night to come here."

She showed him the scars left by the cartel, and a resolve to keep her safe coloured his already steadfast affection. He let her cut his hair when she said she wanted to show him how freeing it felt to change his look. "It's nice not to recognize the person in the mirror, sometimes," she said.

She told him she was a student, often meeting him at Larry's Lagoon to study but usually distracting him into other activities. One afternoon, she introduced him to an old friend, Jimmy Stefano. "Can you help him out around campus? You're in the same major."

Something about Jimmy Stefano rubbed Conrad the wrong way, but he assumed it was jealousy. Despite this, he would already do anything for Ximena and agreed to take Jimmy under his wing.

He called his father to say he planned to stay at school for Spring Break. "Sorry, I know I said I'd come home to see you."

Stephen Gordon laughed him off, but masked slight disappointment. He had no idea whether his son was flourishing or floundering at college, unsure how he'd been coping so far from home. "Don't worry, son. I'm just glad you sound happy. You're making me and your mother proud."

He skipped classes to spend time with Ximena, but made no mention of this to his father, of course. He spent time with Rafa when Ximena said she had late-night classes, taking him to the park to play pirate captain versus sea monster, and talking endlessly with him about video games.

Rafa wanted to become a pirate captain in Sulani or a game tester in San Myshuno. He had almost no memory of life in Selva before his sister left, but he knew it was "the bad place." He liked spending time with Conrad because he said his sister was too strict. "She just loves you," Conrad assured him. "Parents have to set rules, and she can't just be your sister. She has to care for you like a parent, too."

He realized then how important it was to be a model for Rafa, who needed guidance as much as anyone his age. Conrad had always had his father, but who did Rafa have besides Ximena?

Conrad discovered how she paid for an entire house for her and her brother by accident, stumbling on an argument between her and Jimmy Stefano near the campus fountain. "The deal was thirty pounds for three grand."

"They said if I didn't have five grand they'd only give me fifteen. They had guns, Ximena."

"They all have guns! Knives, too. Get your own and figure out how to use it. Watcher, please, don't screw this deal up for me, Jimmy."

"Who has guns?"

"The cartel," said Jimmy, so nonchalant, yet it still hit Conrad like a missile. His stomach turned as he read Ximena's expression. Every lie she'd told him unravelled with a look.

"Are you really a student here, Ximena?"

"No. They're my customers."

He'd had his suspicions, but he'd always told himself he was wrong. Ximena was supposed to be perfect. Hoping against hope, he still tried to play the fool. "What do you mean?"

She dragged him back home to tell him the truth - how she'd bargained with the cartel to escape a life of servitude to the men who ran product all over Simlandia. She refused to serve them, but her way out was to join them instead.

Conrad was angry, but he couldn't stay mad at her for long. As they lay in bed that night, she asked, "Are you going to break up with me because of what I do?"

"Not a chance. I love you."

"I love you, too." She smiled, resting her head on his chest as he ran a hand through her newly blonde hair. "You look nice without glasses, Conrad."

"You already gave me a haircut, Xime. You don't like glasses?"

"Conrad, you're very sexy. But you hide it and it's silly."

"If you're going to give me a makeover, what should I get you?"

"Are you asking me?"

"Ximena, I want to give you everything you could ever want."

She blushed. "I want you, Conrad. But since I already have you, maybe...jewelry? Like a ring."

"You don't wear any rings."

"Because none are special enough, Conrad."

He smiled. "Alright, that's one idea. But say I wanted to surprise you, what else did you want?"

"You could join me running product for the cartel. Our lives would be made, and we'd always be together."

"I don't want to run product for the cartel, Ximena. But I'm not going anywhere. I'll always be there for you. Rafa, too."

"Right, but what if I go? Rafa loves you, Conrad, almost as much as me. But what if the cartel moved me somewhere else? Would you come with me? Maybe you could be, like, my security. No running, just keeping me safe. Always with me and Rafa."

He'd do anything to protect her, but he didn't answer her that day, refocusing on his studies until he returned to San Myshuno at the end of the semester.

He'd missed his father more than he expected, and they went for walks in warm sunshine by the Spice Market. They talked about school, and Conrad talked about Ximena - leaving out details of her career and focusing instead on her relationship with her brother. Conrad rarely asked his father about work, but Stephen hinted he was inching closer to retirement. "Chester's daughter Nancy is ready to take over the company, but Chester's not quite ready to retire. I think she's plotting a coup, but you didn't hear that from me."

"What happens to you if she pushes out her own father?"

"Hopefully, a retirement package. Chester may not be ready, but I think I am."

On one of their walks, they passed a jewelry store, and Conrad made a beeline for the ring counter. A confident salesman smiled as the Gordon men walked inside. "Welcome. What are we shopping for today?"

"I'm just looking," Conrad said. "What rings do you have?"

The salesman beamed. "Are we thinking of an engagement?"

Stephen eyed his son carefully, but Conrad shook his head. "Not right now. Just like, for an accessory."

"I don't know, son. A ring says you're ready for forever."

Conrad took his father's words to heart, considering what forever with Ximena might look like. He wanted to be with her, but he wasn't ready for a ring. He left that day with a nice bracelet for her, instead.

"Even leaving with a bracelet as nice as that one...she must mean something. I'd love to meet her."

Conrad nodded. "She might be able to visit this summer, if she's not too busy with work," he said.

Stephen smiled and the Gordon men continued their walk, strengthening the bond nearly severed by grief before Conrad returned to Britechester for another semester. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOT FUN FACT: Conrad got crab lice from Ximena when they slept together for the first time, which is gross but also fitting I guess. And yet I didn't make it canon because it didn't quite fit the vibe. Plus, he wasn't supposed to find out that early on that Ximena was problematic.

WCIF Poses Used? Various from packs Old Souls Love Differently by @simmireen (when Ximena is blonde), Our First Time by @eclypt0sims (redhead), The Kiss by @simmerberlin (black hair) and Nights Like These by @sakurasims-world (also redhead).

WCIF Jewelry Store? Jewelry Store by Guinifere on the Sims 4 Gallery. Very elegant interior and comes with crafting tables, a vault, charging stations - very nice lot! Needs dressing up with completed jewelry on the counters and in displays to look really spectacular (and I of course went the lazy route), but I wouldn't if I was playing a retail career, and this is a great lot for someone who wants to be a jeweler!

[cillianhead]

Red Eyes || Cillian Murphy x Reader

summary: You and Cillian take a plane trip and a certain Jackson Rippner steals his spot.

PART TWO to A New Pair Of Glasses

put my vibrator on and smoked a j and then wrote away on this one so i'm so very sorry if it is bad or strange or something.

Enjoy my lovely readers <3

warnings: SMUT!!, unprotected p in v, DUBCON AND NONCON THEMES!!!, Daddy kink, vulgar language, swearing, choking, car/airplane sex / public sex, tight spaces, handjobs, oral sex (f and m receiving + reader sucks on his balls?!), slapping, spitting, claustrophobia, roleplay (Cillian is roleplaying as Jackson Rippner), some mentions of subspace/being in subspace sort of, some more dacryphilia, degradation, overstimulation, talks of FAKE! Explosives and talks of FAKE! plane crashes, biting, fake cheating scenarios, vibrators, and general adult content!!!

LONG FIC!!

18+ MINORS DNI

Standing in the crowded airport, you leaned against Cillian for support as you waited in line to check in your bags for your flight. You were going on a trip to New York, and the flight would be almost eight hours.

"How are you feeling, love?" Cillian whispered, subtly kissing your neck. "You nervous about our flight?" "I feel a little nervous... yeah..." You nodded, smiling softly up at him. "But we'll be fine... just... you know how I get..."

"It's alright, I'll be right there with you... the whole time," He hummed, resting his chin on your shoulder. The line was long and the waiting was tedious but at least you had the comfort of your boyfriend beside you.

After checking in and waiting for your flight, which wasn't for another hour and a half, Cillian and you decided to stroll along the airport stores, hand in hand.

"What's happening with that interview you have tomorrow?" You asked, leaning on him a bit.

"Oh... erm... I've forgotten his name..." Cillian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's literally something I had written down 'cause I t'aught it was funny..." Cillian groaned. "Oh... it was some bloke literally called Neil Lewis... some American guy..."

"No way," You laughed loudly, and Cillian looked at you, grinning fondly. "That's awesome, what's the interview even for?"

"I betcha a million bucks it's gonna be like sumn' about like..." He said these words while painting the air with his hands to make imaginary captions. "Neil Lewis.... and how he would react to different characters of mine..." He snickered and you laughed.

"That's a fun idea, though! Neil Lewis has always been a sweet spot of mine..." You sighed dreamily. You remembered when you and Cillian had first started talking and were only really doing all that sugar daddy stuff; you watched 'Watching The Detectives' for the first time. Of course, you hadn't seen all the Batman films at that point. You saw Inception when you were high and in some guy's Mom's garage and weren't comprehensive of what was happening except for when that one really sexy guy, Robert Fischer, showed up. That's when the movie had your attention. The guy was kissing your neck, and suddenly Robert showed up, and you didn't give a single shit about how hot the guy kissing you was; you'd look at the TV and moan louder than you did before. Neil Lewis had really awakened something else inside of you, though.

Something a little more tender.

He was just so cute, and as Violet said, 'You're like the sweetest guy I've ever met' (or something along those lines). You were sitting in a cute new little nightgown Cillian had bought you (oh, and a new vibrator with his initials carved in the middle). It was Valentine's Day, and unfortunately, he was in America shooting a film, and he wouldn't be back until the 17th. You were bratty and whiny, but you were grateful, and he knew that; you just liked to get sassy. You put on the romcom, an obvious choice as to why you picked it.

'Watching The Detectives' Starring Lucy Liu and Cillian Murphy.

You were already riled up when you saw him in the opening shot, but as time went on, you grew increasingly jealous of Violet and more in love with Neil Lewis, thus falling in love with Cillian Murphy. You remember calling Cillian up, despite the time difference, and rambling on about how cute he was in the movie.

Anyway... as you walk through the airport together and look at each other with your blazing love. Cillian lovingly kissed you on your forehead as you walked back to your gate.

"So about this flight..." Cillian cleared his throat after you walked along quietly.

"Yeah?" You hummed, tearing your eyes away from the cute dress you saw in one of those window stores and looked to Cillian with a grin.

"I won't be... erm... boarding on with you," Cillian cleared his throat. "I'm sitting in a different part of... de.... er... plane."

"What?!" You exclaimed, eyes widening and grabbing onto his arm tightly as you two swayed along. "What do you mean, Cill?"

"This flight is quite packed... and so I couldn't manage to fit us together so... yer gonna be in first class while I'm in coach..."

"What? Cillian? No... y-you take first class... you need it more than me..." You were pouting at him with the most pitiful eyes.

"No, baby... it's okay," Cillian hushed. "I'm sure you're gonna meet some guy in first class... who you can pretend is me..."

"I would never do that," You whispered, shaking your head insistently as you fiddled with the red ruby around your neck, thinking about Jonathan Crane. "Why would you say that?"

"It's okay, baby... you'll be able to sleep..." Cillian and you walked into a quiet little cafe. "They'll wake you right before we land... I doubt you'll be sittin' next to anyone since you're in first class..."

"Cillian... why didn't you tell me this sooner?" You whined, sitting down right beside him and clinging onto him while you still can.

"'Cause I know you'd never come if you realized we won't be sittin' together..."

"That's a fair point..." You mumbled, resting your head on his shoulder.

After sitting for a while and sipping the teas you had gotten from the airport coffee shop, it was time to board the plane. You wrapped your arms around Cillian and kissed him passionately.

"I'm gonna miss you so much... Cill..." You whispered against his lips breathily.

"I know, baby," He hummed, stroking your hair. "You're gonna do so good for me... you can handle it... I love you so much..."

"I love you..."

You couldn't dare look back as you walked off with just the weight of your onboard bag. You found your seat... and fuck, it was nice, you had plenty of legroom, and you could even push your headrest back so you could lie down. You watched people start to board the rest of the plane, waiting to see Cillian walk past, but he never did. You sighed and rested back in your seat, buckling up for the takeoff that always made you anxious.

"...F7... F8... Oh, here we go..." You heard an American accent from behind you and turned to look Cillian in the eyes. He had styled his hair differently and was wearing a completely different outfit from what he was wearing before. Cillian smirked as he coldly approached, and you realized what he was doing. He was being Jackson. Honestly, you had completely forgotten about that conversation you two had and didn't expect Cillian to follow through with it. "Oh, hello, seems we're sitting together?" He gave you a strange smile as he sat beside you and smirked. "The name's Jackson..." He reached out his hand for you to shake.

"Oh... it's... it's Y/N..." You smiled, playing along. It was unnerving the way he moved and spoke. It was truly like it was just another person who happened to look exactly like Cillian. Jackson shook your hand with a nod before receding back into his chair beside you.

The flight took off, and you clutched onto your seat for dear life, trying to ignore the feeling of having Jackson's eyes on you the whole time.

"You're a very pretty girl..." He hummed once you were in the air and could unbuckle yourself, looking at you with a tilted head and lustful eyes. "You got a boyfriend?" He asked as if he were interested.

"Y-Yes..." You nodded, feeling flustered, playing along with a hidden grin.

"Aw... that's a shame," He cooed mockingly. "If only he had been here... to protect you..."

"Wh-What?" You looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, laughing nervously. He just shook his head, scratching at his stubbly chin.

"Oh, don't worry," He reassured, mocking your trembling lip with a pout of his own. "I'm gonna take good care of you... sweetheart..."

"How... how...?" You stammered.

"You stupid slut," He spat, rolling his eyes at how pathetic you were. "You know how I'm gonna take care of ya..." Jackson's mouth got real close to your ear as he spoke the words, "I'm gonna fill that perfect little pussy with my seed..." He hissed.

"No... you can't... please..." You whimpered. About five or six people were sitting in the first-class cabin, yet luckily, none were sitting in front of you or behind you. "My boyfriend's in the... other cabin..."

"Oh, I know all about your little boyfriend... in fact... in the left pocket of his jacket... you see... I've been taking some sewing classes... and I was in your room one night while you were there, and he wasn't..." He laughed dryly, licking his teeth as he sucked in more air to speak. Your eyes were wide with horror and dismay... yet your legs squeezed together with arousal. "Anyway... as I was saying, in the pocket in his jacket is a tiny... yet very powerful explosive..."

"Wh-What...?" You panicked, speaking a bit too loudly. Jackson slapped a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

"If you don't do everything I say, I've got the remote here in my pocket and this whole fuckin' plane will go down over the Atlantic," He whispered, only loud enough for you to hear. "Do you hear me, bitch? I'm an impatient man. You're going to do every fuckin' thing I tell you to do or say bye-bye to your boyfriend and the death of everyone on this fuckin' plane..."

You nodded your head desperately, tears slipping down your cheeks. He pulled his hand off of your mouth and wiped your spit off his hand with your shirt. "I understand..."

"Good," He said gruffly, checking his watch. "They won't be bringing out any of the meals for another hour, so I say we have a little... fun while we wait for our meals... and then, of course... there'll be dessert after our dinner..." Jackson smirked.

"We'll get caught... we'll get in trouble," You protested, tucking your knees up into your chest.

"Oh babydoll, don't you know what I do for a living?" He snarked, flashing his sharp teeth at you in that cold, threatening smile. "I know how to do many things... and not get caught..." He whispered into your ear, biting at your neck. "Now open your legs for me. I'm gonna put this cute little vibrator in your pussy, do you understand?" "Al-Alright..." You slowly opened your legs. Your shorts were loose and thin, so you felt him slip his fingers up your thighs and in through the sides of your underwear.

"Fuck, you're soaking for me, princess..." He panted in your ear as he easily pressed two fingers into your cunt. "Doesn't that boyfriend of yours treat you well enough?" He teased. "I wasn't expecting you to be this turned on... I bet he doesn't make you cum enough, is that it?" His fingers began massaging your already sensitive G-spot.

"O-Oh... god..." Your head fell low as he continued panting in your ear, clearly getting affected by how good it felt to have his fingers inside of you. His cock strained against his tight sweatpants. "Jackson..."

"Wow, you gave in to that easily," He laughed, and you felt ashamed at how good you were feeling and how hard you were trying not to make much noise. It was good. The lights were quite dim since it was an overnight flight... everyone else was asleep or had their earbuds in. "You've gotta stay quiet, don't make me gag you," He demanded quietly as you saw the small pink vibrator that perfectly sucked on your throbbing clit. He slipped it into your underwear and turned it on... it was dead silent, but you could feel the intense vibrations. "Look at you, squirmin' for me, and that's only the first setting." His American accent was sickening and impossibly sexy.

"Jackson... I can't... it's too much," You dug your fingernails into the leather seats, clenching your teeth together. Your pussy quivered as he slipped his left hand into your underwear and covered you in a blanket provided to first-class flyers. Anyone walking by wouldn't even notice where his hand placement was. "I'm too... sensitive... it's too much, Daddy..." You whined, pressing your face into his shoulder and biting down on the material of his coat to quieten your stifled moans.

"Wow, look at that, I've got you calling me daddy..." He snorted, leaning back in his chair as he finger-fucked you and turned up the setting on your vibrator that sent crippling waves of pleasure through you. "Bet your real daddy wouldn't be too happy to hear that sweetheart..."

"You're not... you're not my daddy... it was a mistake..." You mewled quietly.

"I am right now, sweetheart," He took a whiff of your hair and bit back a groan. He was so turned on right now, and he wanted to drag you into the bathrooms and fuck you right now, but he wanted to prolong the pleasure for as long as possible. "I'm your daddy, say it... I'm gonna fuck you so much better than your daddy... gonna show you how a real man likes to fuck."

You caved in on yourself, squirming further into a ball as your entire body tensed. Your pussy clenched onto his fingers. Every time he flicked them out of you, a quiet yet distinct squelch of your arousal would be heard. Your orgasm lit you on fire, and he didn't slow down. In fact, his fingers moved even more precisely against your G-spot, causing you to croak and bury your face in your hands. You saw stars as you gushed around his fingers, and Jackson showed no signs of stopping as you came down from your high.

"Jackson... stop... stop it..." You cried, tears streaming down your face. "It hurts!"

"Oh, shut up, you spoiled brat," He grumbled, continuing to fuck you brutally with his talented fingers. "I saw what you did with that little doctor last week," He chuckled. "Your blinds are never closed... anyone passing by could see you whoring yourself out to other men..."

"Jackson, please... I just... I just need a break..." You whispered, flinching every time he massaged your spongy walls. He slowed down his fingers just a bit, it was enough to give you some relief.

"Does your daddy know about what you did with that doctor?" Jackson chuckled. "Imagine when he finds out about that... and finds out about... what you did with me on the plane..." He was getting off on your tears of guilt. "What a shame..." He whispered. "Especially since this means he'll have to cancel the reservation at that restaurant where... I'm pretty sure I saw him out shopping... the same day you fucked your doctor... could he have possibly bought a ring?" Jackson laughed mischievously. It would sound like someone told a funny joke to anyone else but to you... it was bloodcurdling at the realization of what he was implying.

"N-No..." You whispered, clutching at his wrist to slow him down.

"Would you have married him, or are you too much of a whore to settle down?" You could tell there was a deeper meaning in that question. Obviously, he was still playing along with the character. But you realized he wanted to know if you were ready for him to propose.

"Of... of course, I would have... I want to spend my whole life with him..." You whispered. "I... I... he doesn't have to know about what happened between my doctor and I..."

"I'll keep my mouth shut," He smiled with a rosy blush on his cheeks... burning through his cold demeanor. He grabbed a hold of you and kissed you sloppily, tongues and spit clashing together. He made out with you as he picked up the speed, and he was probably playing a dangerous game here by reaching up and groping at your tits. But the plane was dead silent, and he was getting desperate.

"Oh fuck... oh fuck..." You whimpered as he ran soft circles over your shirt, perfectly teasing your hard nipples. "I'm... cumming...." You whispered, arching your back into his hands, and you heard the familiar sound of him clicking the button to turn the vibrator up. You quietly thrashed around as he milked you for all you had.

"That's it... make even more of a mess all over my fingers..." He cooed, watching you throw your head back with your vision going black. "Such a fucking slut..." He grunted as he pulled his sticky fingers out from your underwear and popped them in his mouth. You watched, still mewling and squirming around with pleasure as you came. He closed his eyes and groaned with satisfaction as he licked his fingers clean. "Open your mouth,"

Hesitantly, you opened your mouth, and he grabbed your jaw roughly and spat onto your tongue. You moaned at the taste.

"Swallow it, bitch," He barked quietly, turning off the vibrator and slipping it back into his pocket. You had no idea how he managed to get that thing through checkage, but right now, you were too fucked out to care. "That's it..." He sighed happily as you gulped his spit down.

"Jackson..." You whispered, chest rising rapidly. "Need a break..." Jackson scoffed. "You're not gettin' one, princess," He chuckled darkly in your ear. "Right now, you're gettin' up and going into that bathroom there..." He points to the first-class bathroom. "And in five minutes, I will follow in after you... and you're going to take my cock... like a good girl..."

You opened your mouth to protest but he looked away with a firm nod of his head. "Go on, Y/N, or I'll fuck you right here."

You hurriedly stood up on shaky legs, smoothing out your shorts, and tried your best to act casual as you made your way to the tiny stall at the end of the aisle. Jackson's eyes burnt holes in the back of your head. You glanced back at him momentarily to see him smirking at you devilishly.

The bathroom was small and tight, but it was enough to fit you in it {almost} comfortably. The following five minutes were long and torturous as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your once neatly combed hair was now messed up like you had just gotten out of bed. Anxiously and insensibly, you looked over yourself in the mirror, making sure you looked good and fuckable for your boyfriend. Two soft raps were heard in your stall.

"It's me," Jackson mumbled. "Let me in."

You quickly unlocked the door, and just as quickly as it opened, it was closed and locked. Jackson didn't say a word; he just grabbed you by the throat and pushed you up against the wall. Fuck, it was cramped in here with the two of you. He immediately latched himself onto your neck and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to stop you from crying as his hands worked to undoing your top and bra.

"Fucking hell, of course you've got perfect tits," Jackson groaned, lowering his mouth even more to pop your nipples into his mouth. Jackson's mean glare relaxed into shut eyes and furrowed brows of concentration. He moaned into your tits as he now slid down your shorts til you were just in your shorts and your blouse was wide open. "Whore..." He growled demeaningly as he was now face to face with your throbbing cunt. "Look how wet your panties are..." He whispered, tracing his fingers along your clothed slit. "This all for me?" He smirked as he pushed your panties to the side and kissed your clit.

"Oh... oh... god... J-Jackson..." You whined breathily, pushing your hands into his hair as he sucked on your clit like it was a cherry lollipop. His lips sucked harshly on your bud as his tongue slipped down and lapped your arousal up. His mouth was sinfully talented, and with the impending pleasure, you squeezed his head with your quivering thighs. "Fuck... you eat my pussy so good... fuck... oh..." You were giving it everything you had to not scream as he slipped two fingers into your juice-gushing cunt.

You were simply the sweetest of them all. Cillian grew high off of the way you tasted. It was like no other, truly incomparable to anything. None of the ripest and sweetest fruits could even begin to beat the taste of you. He'd happily die right here with your pussy in his mouth and the sound of your pretty sighs. Despite the deafening grip your thighs had on his skull, he was reveling in the way he was completely wrapped up in you. Like you were a spider luring in prey, and now you've caught it. But let's not forget who's in charge here... of course, it's Jackson. He's not eating pussy to get her off. He's eating pussy to get himself off. It doesn't matter if she screams or cries for him to stop. If that's what he wants, he'll drink her up like the essence of life for the rest of time. And oh, how good your fucked out pussy tasted. Jackson made you cum over and over again on his tongue until you were sobbing and trying to shove him away from you, but you were so fucking dizzy and still in the middle of cumming, so you had the strength of a twig.

"Pl-Please... Jackson..." You mewled, tugging on the roots of his hair to get him off of your pounding cunt. "It's too much... please... it's too much... fuck... stop... please!"

Tears were streaming down your face, and with your blurred vision, you looked down to see Jackson's newly opened ice-cold eyes staring straight up at you. You had seen that look from him a million times. You knew how much Cillian loved eating your pussy, and at this point, it wasn't even about being his character but enjoying the feeling of your heavenly sex in his mouth. The look in his eyes was identical to what a blood-drunk beast would look like as it devoured its unwilling and innocent victim. His pupils were blown wide, and his nostrils flared at the sight of your overstimulated tears. And this only made his cock that much harder.

"I'm serious, stop... please..." You whimpered, eyes falling in and out of focus. It truly felt like he was consuming you. "F-Fuck... you've had enough... please... Jacks... Jackson..." Your head falls back as you dissociate from reality. The confined space of being in this airplane bathroom with him wasn't helping with the overstimulation. Jackson had you cornered, as a predator would with its prey, and there truly was nowhere else for you to go from here.

"Alright..." He panted, lips smeared in cum and arousal as well as his own spit. "Time for me to fill you with my fucking babies."

"Just need a break... please... I need a break..." You wheezed, leaning against the wall for support. "Please... Jackson... I don't think I can handle it..."

"Oh, but that's not what your cute little pussy is saying... is it now?" He purred, spreading your folds open with two lazy fingers to peek at the sight of your dripping hole. "I'm fucking you whether you like it or not, princess... don't fucking deny me of what I'm so fucking entitled to..." He growled as he manhandled you into being in a more bent over position. You were completely helpless to him now. "If you even make a noise, I swear to god..." He huffed as he shoved your now discarded panties into your mouth to gag you. You let your head hang low with shame as you heard him undo his belt and zipper. "You're gonna enjoy this, I know you are," He whispered condescendingly into your ear, swiping a falling teardrop off of your cheek and licking it off of his thumb.

Your eyes squeezed shut as he poked at your entrance with the thick head of his cock, slowly teasing it in and out. Not enough to honestly give you anything, but just enough to rile you up. You pressed your ass back into his hips, and he willingly slipped in his cock. Despite how overstimulated you were just moments ago... your pussy changed its mind and decided it needed cock like your entire life depended on it.

"Look at that," He cooed as he slowly rutted his dick in and out of you. "I didn't think you'd fit so snugly around my cock. I thought you were gonna be a loose whore based on all the men you sleep with..." He said, and you mumbled through your cotton panties, but it barely made a sound. "Fuck... I see why he wants to marry you now..." Jackson hissed as he began truly pistoning his cock in and out of you. The wet noises were disgustingly loud, and anyone walking past could hear what was happening and immediately be suspicious. As well as the sound of his hips clapping with your ass as he fed you with his cock. Your mind was completely blank, like a loading screen almost the feeling of his dick was the only thing that mattered to you, your mind barely perceiving anything else.

The claustrophobia you felt before was non-existent, and it no longer was clear to you that you were literally in an airplane bathroom. You felt like you genuinely just were made to be fucked in the best way possible. Only by Cillian, of course... or well... uh... Jonathan... or Jackson...

"Excuse me?!" A knock from the outside pulled you out of your dumb whore state and made you look back at Jackson with a panicked expression. "How much longer are you gonna be in there? I really need to use this bathroom!"

"Too bad, wait for another one," Jackson grunted to the unwanted customer. "I'm gonna be a while."

"For fuck's sake..." The stranger grumbled before you heard the sound of them waddling away.

"You heard that?" Jackson growled in your ear, piercing your G-spot with every thrust of his hips. "I'm gonna take my sweet time with you, princess..." He moaned, hips trembling a bit at how good it felt to fuck you like this. The thrill of doing this was also an aphrodisiac to this situation, only fueling the fire. Of course, you'd done sneaky little things like this with Cillian before, but nothing this... outrageous... this risky. "How will your boyfriend feel about getting back to your hotel to find you full of another man's cum?" Jackson was groaning quietly. He was on the edge of bursting inside of her, but he wanted to hold on just a little longer. "He's not gonna be very happy, hmm?" He laughed at your tears, feeling the way you squeezed around him and told him you were starting another orgasm. And holding on to the edge was getting much harder for Jackson... with the way your cunt was absolutely trying to milk him for his cum.

"Mmmphhff!!" You moaned through your cotton gag, now soaked in your spit. Jackson laughed at the sounds you were making. He grabbed ahold of you by your hair while also keeping a steady grip on your lower back to keep you in place. He yanked on your hair like you were just a doll and looked at your big red eyes, sore from all the crying.

"Keep on cryin' like that, baby," He huffed, squinting his eyes on your orgasmic face. "Gonna spill my load into you cause of how fucking pretty you look when you cry..."

You cried in shame and embarrassment but also in pure pleasure that he was making you feel with his cock alone. You felt the hot spurts of cum begin to fill you up, and with that sensation alone, you felt yourself coming undone again. Jackson used you like a fleshlight, painting the inside of you white with his seed and getting off on how fucking pathetic you looked with tears smeared all over your face as well as your tits hanging out of your top. He looked away from your wet face to your coincidentally gushing pussy. He had never seen you so wet before, and his cock slid in and out of you like a waterslide. His cum was spilling out of you as his orgasm intensified at the beautiful sight of what his cock was doing to you.

"Shit," He hissed. His movements were sloppy, but it didn't matter to you because you had pretty much left this realm with how fucked-out you were. "Fuck, I need you to have my kids," He cried out, and you noticed that little bit of Irish slip out in his shaky voice. "Need to see ya pregnant... and fuck... fuckin' plump with my baby in ya... and... everyone will know who you fuckin' belong to..." Cillian whimpered, his hands now on both of your hips as he stilled himself completely. He shot the last squirts of cum deep into your womb.

He panted heavily as he remained inside of you. You both came down from your highs collectively. He slowly pulled out of you and that softness that lingered in the air immediately dissipated as he pushed you roughly down on your knees, face smushed against his wet cock.

"Lick me clean, slut," He commanded, hand placing your head firmly against his cock. "Want to see how good you are with your mouth."

You closed your eyes as you sucked off his cock. He was biting his lip to keep in the soft moans. His cock was still highly sensitive, but fuck... the feeling of you licking and sucking on him like he was a lollipop or some kind of sweet treat. He watched you with hooded eyes as you kissed down his clean shaft, now only coated in your saliva. Your lips wrapped around one of his balls, and swirled your tongue around them softly. He let out a loud gasp, growing properly hard again at the feeling of your mouth on his balls.

"Fuck... open your mouth... I'm gonna cum again... fucking hell..." Jackson grumbled, pushing you off of him and stroked his cock with his tip on your tongue. "I want you to swallow every last drop..."

"Yes... sir..." You nodded obediently, mouth watering, ready for the taste of his cum on your tongue.

With one last groan, he released his sperm into your waiting mouth. "Oh... fuck... princesss..." He sighed, cum spilling from your full mouth. As you tried to gulp it all down. His cock twitched a few more times before he stopped and pulled away, panting for air.

You licked your cum-covered lips and chin, smiling dopily like you were stoned. He tucked himself carefully back into his underwear and did his pants and belt back up, all while smirking at you.

"Jackson..." You whispered, melting to the floor after putting your underwear back on.

"Cillian, now, love," He whispered, crouching before you to help you back onto your feet. "You did so good for me... I'm so in love with ya..." He kissed along your face, holding you in his arms. "It's okay... baby girl, I'm right here," You buried your face in his neck and breathed heavily. You stood there while hugging until Cillian was fully dressed and stepped out. You waited it out in there for a little longer. You looked at yourself with red eyes and a dazed expression on your face. What had just happened to you, if anyone were to see you, was pretty clear. So as you slipped out of the bathroom, you didn't notice the two air hostesses watching you leave the bathroom that reeked of sex and cum now.

Cillian was sitting calmly, reading a book, and when he looked up at you, his eyes were full of love and also a look of concern.

"You alright, baby?" He hummed, stroking your hair affectionately. You nodded and pushed your face into his soft shirt, whining. "What is it? Did I hurt you too much?" He whispered with knitted eyebrows.

"N-No... daddy..." You whispered and he knew immediately what was wrong.

"Oh... baby," He hummed, quickly realizing you could push the armrest between you up, and he did just that, scooting closer to you and pulling your legs over his lap to cradle you more. "You sweet thing... you did so good for me," He praised lovingly, leaning down and kissing you softly. The position was a little suggestive to onlookers but not quite enough to necessarily get you in any trouble. "You're so fuckin' beautiful," He whispered with your spit drenching his lips, teeth, and chin. "Best girl... my best girl," He muttered before placing wet, sloppy kisses on the crowns of your forehead. "I love you..."

"I love you... Cill..." You smiled sleepily up at him, pussy mildly throbbing as you looked up at him. You just felt heavy with love and primal desire. It was hard to even focus on what you were saying or doing. Too preoccupied with taking in everything Cillian was doing. In a way, it was as if you were feeling everything he was feeling as if you had become one in mind and soul, both just existing, eternally connected and synced. It was symbiotic and so full of love. "You take such good care of me..."

Cillian laughed softly and kissed your face harder. "I could never care more about anything than you..." He hummed into your scalp. "You're my girl... you're... my world."

After those six words, nothing else really was comprehensive for you. You two cuddled up for the rest of the flight until you were made to buckle up for the touchdown. The long and treacherous journey of getting off an airplane into one of the busiest airports in the world was all a mind-numbing bore to you, and all your mind could really focus on was that Cillian was by your side with his hand resting on your lower back, guiding you through the maze-like hallways. In fact, you were in a trance at the way his arms looked carrying the heavy bags. You practically drooling with your lips parted, nearly wanting to take a bite from him. His arms drove you crazy, and the pure strength that he radiated from his body... that older, warm man.. sort of energy.

"C'mon, honey, this way, we're catchin' a car," He wrapped you up in one of his arms as he pushed along the trolley with your suitcases on it. "Don't wanna lose ya in New York City..." Cillian chuckled, and you just smiled up at him, silently looking around in amazement. "Still bein' quiet for me? Tha's okay, love, take your time..." He whispered sweetly.

You sat in the back of a black car, headed to a hotel on the city's other side. You sat in the middle, leaning on Cillian to rest as he looked down at you, the rising sun shining on his face angelically.

"Cillian..." You mumbled into his shoulder. "I'm cold."

"Yeah, baby, that's okay... you can hug me, c'mere... let me hold ya..."

This time, Cillian wrapped you up into his arms and ran his hands up and down your body. Checking into the lobby was long and tedious and dealing with Americans and other women ogling at Cillian made you want to puke your guts out. Like... stop looking at him like that. It was irritating the way they looked at you too, but at this point, you were too tired to care.

"Go on, baby... they've already sent our luggage to our room. I'll meet you there... Just gonna get us a snack..." He whispered in your ear as he was speaking to the receptionist. "It's okay..." He slid you one of the key cards to the room and patted you on the back. Hesitantly, you looked at him with a pout before walking to the elevator to find your room.

You were on one of the top floors of the tall building, and the hallways were long and white and blinding. It took you around another ten minutes to find your room. You sighed as you unlocked the door at the sound of a loud *BEEP* and waddled your way in; you let out a bloodcurdling scream at the sight of a man sitting on your bed with a sickening smile.

"Hello, darling," Jackson's cold voice chuckled in the dark. "I guess you weren't expecting me..." He laughed as he stood up from the bed. Your heart dropped, and part of you panicked... stupidly, you knew it was just Cillian continuing this little affair you were having. But part of you genuinely believed that it was Jackson, and you thought Cillian was downstairs, utterly unaware of this. He was so convincing.

"Wh-What...?" You murmured dumbly as he walked over to the door and locked it behind you.

"Oh darling, did you miss me?" His eyes in the dark were still eerily bright and unnerving, pupils blown wide as he looked at you like an owl in the night. "I bet your little pussy did," He said in faux sympathy, his hand cupping you through your shorts. You still hadn't fully recovered from what you two did just four hours ago, or however long it had been. "I can feel how hot you are for me..." Jackson spat. You were so entranced by what was happening that you didn't notice the complete outfit change. He was wearing a full suit. How would Cillian have time to beat you to your room and also get changed into a nice suit? But you didn't care. He was here, and that was all that mattered.

"Jack-Jackson... Cillian will be back... at any moment..." You whimpered as he pinned you against the wall and tugged your shorts down. "He'll... He'll hurt you... for touching me!" Jackson laughed wildly at your whimpering.

"Oh baby, I'd like to see him try," His laugh was sadistic and that of a villain's. "Think I'd... strap him to a chair and make him watch as I fuck you better than he ever could..." Jackson growled, pulling off his clothes. "Imagine how jealous he'd be... seein' me treat you like a whore, taking my cock so nicely... bet he'd never be able to look at you the same way again..."

"Jackson..." You said with tears in your eyes.

"Oh, you gonna cry more?" He snickered as he curled his fingers around your throat and pushed you down onto the bed. As quickly as you fell, he was on top of you, undoing his pants. "Fucking hell... thought about this tight pussy... gonna have to fill it with all of my cum..."

"Pl-Please... I'm still too sensitive..." You whispered and squeezed your eyes shut as he pulled your shorts down completely and ripped open your shirt. He was treating you like an inanimate object.

"Oh shut up, I know you fucking want me," He huffed. Your underwear was pushed to the side now, and the tip of his cock was pressing into your used hole. "Fuck..." Jackson groaned, shutting his eyes as your cunt squeezed around him like a vice.

"Please... I can't... I can't do anymore..." You cried, trying to push him off you, but it was no use. Your arms were like noodles at the moment. "Jackson..."

"Your pussy says otherwise," He laughed menacingly before slowly pulling back out with just his thick head in you. "You're so cute when you cry..." He snapped his hips back into you roughly, and you mewled as he brushed against your G-spot.

"Oh!" You cried. His hands groped at your tits as he began fucking you like some sort of inanimate sex doll. You couldn't deny the pleasure that was mixed in with the pain. It was all-consuming and truly debilitating. "Fuck..." Tears were slipping down your face as your body bounced with each thrust.

Jackson was fucking you like a feral animal, with absolutely no concern as to how you were feeling. Sweat was dripping down his neck, his pelvis slapping against your swollen clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your trembling body. God, it was shameful how good he fucked you. Cillian was really giving it his all to be this character.

"So fucking easy," He grunted. "You're such a fucking whore..." He growled. His American accent was spot on and eerily felt like someone else was talking and not Cillian.

"J-Jackson... you need to slow down... you're hurting me..." You whined as he pulled out of you and shoved you over onto your stomach before shoving his fat cock back in you. "O-Oh!" You choked out, reaching out your arms and gripping the bedsheets. "Slow... slow down... Jackson..." You whined, pressing your face into the sheets as you moaned pathetically.

"Shut the fuck up," He hissed, holding your plush hips in his hands as he rocked you back and forth on his cock. Jackson was loving the sight of your ass bouncing back and forth while he fucked you like a doll. The way he was fucking you was simply animalistic. Like he was the predator and you were the prey, he had found your weak spot, and he was now tearing you open, licking his teeth as he prepared you to eat. "Take my cock like a good girl would, bitch."

"Fuuuuuuck...." You cried out dizzily, mouth gaping wide as he tugged on your hair from behind. It was like a shot out of a porno, the sickening way his skin slapped against yours, or the way his hips were like literal pistons, drilling in and out of you. Meanwhile, the harsh grip on your hair was lulling you into a state of pure sex. You truly did not give a fuck what was happening, too distracted and in love with the fullness of his cock, fucking like all you were good for. "Jackson... Jackson.... please... fuck... please!" You weren't quite sure what you were trying to say. Your brain was no longer in coerce with your teeth and tongue and you were just spewing out broken sentences.

"What? You gonna cum?" He laughed sadistically. "That's right, cum on my dick, get it wet."

"Ernghhggghhg....." You drooled, moaning as he dropped your hair and quickly grabbed at your ass to fuck you further into your orgasm. Gee, you hoped the walls were thick with how loud you were being. With the slamming headboard and the way you were screaming for it, the surrounding hotel guests and people passing by in the hallways outside would surely hear every echo of it.

"So pretty when you're cockdrunk," Jackson grunted. "Bet your pretty boyfriend never fucks you like this... bet he's never got you seein' stars," His American accent made you squeeze. And in a way, he was right. You had never been so thoroughly spent as you were right now, and every nerve in your being was lit in some sort of rampageous flame and was endlessly burning in the pleasure. "Mmmm... I'm right... and you know it." He slapped your ass hard, having you seeing stars hanging around the room.

"J-Jaaaaccck...." You whined, pussy clenching down on his cock.

"Fuck..." He hissed disapprovingly. "Don't fuckin' do that, bitch... I'm not cumming in you yet."

"Please..." You whined. "Please, I need you... daddy... please..."

At this point, you were too dumb to realize it truly wasn't Cillian who was fucking you. You'd never call another man daddy if it weren't Cillian, no matter how in love or obsessed you were with that person, no man could ever be your daddy the way Cillian is. There was something fundamentally twisted inside of you that you didn't realize or immediately recognize the fact that this cock wasn't uncut and was a different shape. But anyway... on with the story...

"Aw... daddy?" He cooed mockingly. "You need your daddy?" Jackson cackled, gripping your hips in a painfully hard way, enough to leave hand-shaped bruises. "That's right, I'll cum in you... you can make me a daddy..." He smirked. "You're gonna take all that cum I give you and make us a fuckin' baby."

"Fuck... whatever you want..." You sighed, still delirious on pleasure. "Please... just want you to cum in me... please..."

Jackson chuffed cheekily and continued using you like some sort of cum-dump. "You're gonna do good in being full of my cum... I think you'll be able to handle it."

You nodded helplessly; your ass and your hips were throbbing with the way he was holding you. A never-ending give-and-take pushing you over the edge over and over again. It was a miracle when he finally came, groaning and moaning.

"Fuck, take it, milk my fucking cock," Jackson moaned loudly, throwing his head back and his hair splayed out on his face. His cum was thick and strong, hitting you like some sort of shotgun. You moaned with each spurt, gasping for air with how much arousal you were spilling from your used cunt.

"Oh... fuck..." You whispered, biting into your arm. "So good... so good... daddy..." He groaned as he pulled out of you and pushed you down onto the bed carelessly, not even bothering to watch how his load slowly leaked from your pussy or even to watch you finger it back in cherishingly.

"Wh-Where are you going, Cillian?" You asked softly, looking back up to meet him in the eyes. A chill went down your spine at the sight of his slightly longer hair and lighter-colored roots; he stared at you with the face of a thirty-year-old man, not a forty-year-old one. You were so confused and still so out of it.

Jackson just laughed and pulled his pants back on, grabbing his things before waving goodbye as he walked out of the room. What the fuck just happened? Cillian was doing a convincing job at how he was playing this Jackson character. You wondered how long he would be gone for. You needed comforting. You tucked yourself into bed with shaky legs and tears because Cillian wasn't there. You really needed him to hold you and to hear his voice.

Eventually, after about a dozen tears were shed, the door cracked open, and Cillian came with two small plates of cake for you to eat. "Oh baby, was I gone that long?" Cillian whispered, setting the plates down neatly on the bedside table. "I'm so sorry, my sweet girl," He whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed and kissing you on the forehead. He seemed... so... not sweaty... and different. You stayed quiet and just nodded sadly as he pulled away and quickly got changed.

He crawled into bed with you, pulling the covers up, and quickly wrapped you up in his arms. "Daddy..." You whispered.

"Mmm?" He hummed while brushing your hair with his fingers.

"You were really rough with me... just then..." "What?" He asked with a confused tone. "What do you mean? I'm so sorry... did I sit on your hand or something?" "N-No... I'm talking about when... you were just in here... doing Jackson..."

"What do you mean?" He sat you up now. You two were sitting in each other's arms and staring at each other. His eyebrows were knitted as if he didn't recall what just happened. "I did pretend to be Jackson... on the plane? Yes?" He nodded, trying to see where you were going with this.

"No... I'm not talkin' bout the plane, silly..." You shook your head, laughing softly. "Just now... in the room... when you... you know... from behind..." You bit your lip, looking down at the sheets that were covering your bare legs entangled with Cillian's.

"I haven't been in here for..." Cillian hummed while checking his watch for the time. "Twenty minutes or so?" He looked back up at you, blue eyes flashing even more confusion. "Did you fall asleep and have a wet dream about daddy?" Cillian teased, leaning in and nuzzling your cheek while giggling.

"N-No! It was real... what do you mean?" You asked, now slightly offended that Cillian was trying to trick you. But part of you was putting the pieces together in your head, even if they didn't make sense. "Cillian... I've still got your cum... dripping out of me..."

"That must've been from earlier," Cillian sighed as he laid you back down, still in a laughing fit. "You're so cute... baby... can't believe you dream about me..." Cillian laughed, not noticing your silence. He looked up at the ceiling with a big grin on his face while you just pressed your face to his chest in hopes of it calming you down. Your eyebrows were furrowed deeply, and your mouth held a heavy frown. "Do you dream about me often?"

"Yes... but this wasn't a dream... Cillian... why are you trying to make that up? I'm being serious..."

"Love, I haven't been in here this whole time..." Cillian said a bit more seriously. He ran his thumb along your cheek lovingly. "You must've just fallen asleep... and had a little sexy dream about 'ye old Jackson Rippner."

"Yeah..."

"I know how sleepy you can get," Cillian whispered before pecking you softly. He talked against your lips, and for a brief moment, as if a screen were flashing, you saw Neil Lewis talking to you hotly against your lips, his breath and yours connected. He had you pinned on the couch. It was straight out of that scene with Violet and Neil on his couch. But as quickly as it came, it left. "We did travel quite a lot."

"Yeah..." You whispered, still taken aback by your vision. "Erm... let's just go to sleep... Cillian... I'm really tired..."

"Okay... yer not upset by me are ya?" He asked softly as you laid down and got into your usual spooning position. You faced away from him with that look on your face.

"No, baby, I'm just tired..." You whispered with red eyes. "Please just hold me... I love you so much..."

"I love you too, darling..." Cillian hummed, kissing along your shoulders. "Goodnight, my love, sweet dreams."

"Goodnight..." You murmured back absentmindedly.

Eventually, Cillian was snoring softly behind you, and though you felt sleepy, you just lay there and stared at the glowing clock face. You truly felt like you were going crazy. Why would Cillian lie to you and say that that was just a dream? You glanced down at your hips, which now held faint purple bruise-like indents from where Cillian had held you so hard. That did happen, right? You didn't dream that. Your dreams are never that vivid... or realistic.

Or maybe you were that tired? You have been traveling a lot. It was literally impossible for a movie character to come to life and fuck you. Right? You're just tired and confused, that's all. It was a dream. You convinced yourself.

Just a dream.

Just a...

Harmless...

Little...

Dream...

You repeated in your head as you let yourself fall asleep.

Was it?

-

EHEHEHEH ENJOY <3 I CAN'T WAIT TO RELEASE THE THIRD PART YAYAYAAYAYY!!!

(there will be a part 3 and it'll be the last part)

[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.