#murphy one shot smut

[daryltwdixon]

murphy x reader one shot

crying screaming over murphy calling you an angel brb

warnings: smut :)

word count: 1.8k

The late morning sun filters through the blinds, casting soft shadows across Murphy’s small, cluttered apartment. The smell of coffee fills the air, warm and grounding, mixing with the faint scent of smoke as he leans against the doorframe, watching you. He takes a slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling a curl of smoke as he lets his gaze linger on you, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.

You’re at the counter, barefoot and clothed in only his shirt that barely covers the cheeky lines at the juncture of your thighs, your hair still a little messy from sleep. There’s something peaceful about the scene, the simple routine of pouring coffee into chipped mugs, as if the world beyond these walls doesn’t exist for a moment.

“You’re somethin’ else, angel,” Murphy murmurs, his voice low and warm, breaking the quiet. The way he says it—like he can’t quite believe you’re really here—sends a flutter through you.

You glance over your shoulder, catching the softness in his expression, the way he’s looking at you like he doesn’t want to look anywhere else. “It’s just coffee,” you say, smiling as you hand him a mug.

He takes it from you, setting his cigarette aside before reaching out to pull you close. “Nah,” he whispers, his fingers brushing along your jaw, his thumb grazing your cheek. “It’s you, bein’ here, love… feels like I don’t even need to die to get to heaven.”

Your breath catches, his words wrapping around you, and he leans in, eyes holding yours for a lingering beat before he closes the last bit of space between you, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is gentle at first, warm and unhurried, as if he’s savoring the moment, letting it sink in.

You hear him set down his coffee mug and his other hand slips around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens, his mouth fresh with the taste of coffee and cigarettes. You blindly set yours down on the counter beside him, both of your hands finding their way to the back of his neck, threading through his hair as he holds you steady, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that leaves you feeling completely lost in him.

Before you know it, he’s lifting you just slightly off your toes as he walks you backward, guiding you toward the bed, never breaking the kiss. You smile against his lips, a giggle escaping you as you're blindly led to the other room.

You feel the edge of the mattress against the backs of your knees, and with a gentle nudge, he eases you down onto the bed. He follows, his weight settling over you as he props himself on his elbows, careful not to crush you but close enough that his warmth surrounds you. His lips find yours again, this time with a little more urgency, a softness tempered with a raw need, as if he’s trying to memorize the feel of you in every kiss, every touch.

You lose yourself in him, your hands wandering over his back, pulling him closer, feeling his heartbeat against you as he deepens the kiss, lips tracing down to your jaw and lingering along your neck, leaving soft, reverent kisses that make your breath hitch. His fingers thread through your hair, holding you gently as he looks down, taking a moment to soak in the sight of you lying there beneath him.

“An angel,” he whispers, bringing his lips back to your neck, his kisses soft and warm, with his teeth grazing sensitive places that send goosebumps across your skin. His hand slips from your hair and slides under the shirt you stole from him, your bare body arching instinctively to meet his touch. His hand rests on your waist, memorizing every curve, and he groans as he leans into you, desperate to be closer.

Your hands are hurried as you tug away the last of each other’s sleepwear, bodies heated and hungry against one another. He pulls you on top of him, your hips straddling him as he looks up at you with reverence.

"Beautiful," he says, accent always thicker when he's full of desire.

“Could say the same thing,” you whisper, slipping off him to lie between his legs, your hands finding his warm, ready cock. He sucks in a sharp breath as your fingers wrap around him, his head falling back against the pillows when you brush your thumb over the tip. Your other hand stretches along his stomach, resting along the trail of hair that curls there. You press soft, wet kisses along his length, his whimpers growing needier as you tease him until finally, you bring him to your mouth, tongue tracing over the precum. Murphy’s head lifts, his stormy blue eyes fixed on you, filled with raw need. A small smirk plays on your lips before you take him completely, cheeks hollowing as you pull him deep.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his gaze locked on your face, taking in every detail. You moan around him, loving the weight of him between your lips, eager to draw more sounds from him. Your hand moves where your mouth doesn’t reach, mirroring the motion of your head as you glide along his cock. His fingers tangle in your hair, gently guiding your pace, and you let him, loving his control even in its gentleness. With a sudden movement, you surprise him, taking him to the back of your throat, and his hips buck as you gag slightly around him.

"Christ, I’m sorry, angel,” he says breathlessly as you lift your mouth from him, cracking a smile,"Lord's name in vain, Murph--"

His hand moves to cup your jaw, his thumb grazing your swollen bottom lip. “Tha's what confession's fer, now c'mere,” he murmurs, sitting up and drawing your face to his. His lips crash into yours, tongues sliding together as your moans mix with his. He presses you down onto the bed, settling beside you. One hand cups your face with reverence, while the other glides along your body, tracing the sensitive skin of your breast. His touch makes you shiver, and he gently twists your nipple, pulling a soft whimper from your lips. Your eyes flutter shut as his mouth replaces his fingers, his tongue soothing the sensitive bud while his hand wanders further down. His fingers trail along your thigh, encouraging your legs to open and he brushes the pads of his fingers along the inside of your thighs, teasingly close, making you arch toward him.

"Murph," A soft, breathy moan escapes your lips, barely a whisper, but it’s filled with everything you're feeling in that moment, an aching need for him. Your back lifts from the bed, hips just barely undulating in the air, desperate for anything.

“Yes, my angel?” he murmurs, releasing your other nipple he had moved to.

“Please,” you whimper, but he stills his fingers, drawing a soft whine from you.

“Please what, my love?” he teases, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose.

“I need—I need…” you struggle, voice trembling with need.

“Use your words,” he chuckles, low and rough, letting his fingers barely graze closer.

“Murphy, I swear to god—”

"Lord's name is vain, sweetheart," his smirk twitching his cheek, and as you're about to snap back, your words cut off as he presses two fingers against your wet heat, your eyes rolling back as he groans, feeling your arousal coating his fingers. His fingers return, gliding over your clit in slow circles, moving at a maddening pace that leaves you breathless. Your hand grips his face, pulling him in for a kiss as you whimper and moan against his mouth. He slips his fingers inside you, hooking them just right, and you gasp, your mouth falling open as his tongue brushes along your top lip, coaxing every reaction out of you.

“My God, you’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with raw need as his gaze locks on your flushed face. You pull yourself together long enough to deepen the kiss again, rocking your hips against his fingers. He hooks and scissors his digits, working you with precision as his thumb grazes your clit, making your entire body tremble.

Just as you feel yourself nearing the edge, he pulls his fingers out, and you whine, your body thrumming with anticipation as he moves between your legs.

“Can’t wait any longer,” he says, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close. His hands slip beneath you, holding you tightly as he pushes inside, his cock meeting no resistance against your wetness. He groans deeply, his voice roughening into a growl as he bottoms out and his teeth find the sensitive juncture of your shoulder and neck. He bites down as he withdraws almost to the tip, then thrusts back in with a force that has you crying out. His lips travel along your neck, leaving a trail of wet, hot kisses as he moves against you. Every thrust feels like more than just the physical; it’s as if you’re weaving into each other’s souls, binding in ways words could never capture.

"My beautiful fuckin' angel," His breath catches, a low, throaty sound escaping him as his lips hover close to your ear, rough and heated. "So fuckin' perfect, like your cunt was made fer me, eh?"

“Oh god, Murph—” you gasp, a desperate sound slipping from you as he groans, and your hips lift to meet his. His hand moves from around your back to slide between you, his fingers finding your clit again. He pulls the hood back, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves in circles that make your eyes widen. He smirks, almost blasphemously, as he watches you, his fingers working expertly. You let out a shuddering sigh, every nerve on fire, your hands pressing against his chest as you feel yourself cresting. I's too much, too overwhelming, too much too much too much as pleasure skyrockets in you, and you're moaning his name as he continues his thrusts, slower now to let you concentrate.

"Come on, dove, let me see you. Let me feel tha' sweet pussy cum all over me cock," he says, almost under his breath he is breathing so hard. Your fingers dig into his flesh as he sucks in air, "Tha's it, right there, come on,"

Your body obeys, arching against him as the first waves of your climax hit, your muscles tightening around him as stars burst behind your closed eyes. He groans, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his own release, pulling out just in time. He strokes himself, and with a low growl, he spills over your thigh, his voice a hoarse, reverent chant of your name.

As the euphoria settles, he collapses beside you, drawing you close, his breath warm against your skin. The two of you lie there, tangled together, the world outside forgotten.

"Gonna need to put on another pot of coffee," you groan, a breathy laugh against his chest as you roll over onto him.

He lets out a contented sigh, his fingers running through your hair. “As long as you bring that coffee right back here, I’ll allow it.”

[iluvzaddies]

drunk confession

pairing: thomas shelby x reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, slight nsfw

summary: thomas shelby walks into your bedroom in the middle of the night and confesses his love for you.

you awoke from your slumber after hearing the door to your room suddenly open in the middle of the night.

you felt your heart pound through your chest, scared that it was one of billy kimber’s men, ordered to harm you as a way to get back at the peaky blinders.

but you needn’t fret for it was only thomas shelby.

thomas was the leader of birmingham’s renowned gang, the peaky blinders, and the second eldest son of the shelby family.

you knew him when he was a young lad. he used to be a troublemaker, always bringing trouble everywhere he went. he laughed a lot too.

you, on the other hand, used to be a loner. you didn’t have a single friend whatsoever. you were always alone, a sad look plastered on your face as you watched other kids getting along and playing with each other. young tommy felt bad for you, therefore, offered to let you play with him and his siblings. from then on, you became close and formed a bond, not only with him, but with his siblings too.

it was sad how much things have changed after the war in france.

the horrors of the war had changed him drastically.

he became a soulless, empty shell.

but there was one thing that didn’t change, and that was his feelings for you.

he always felt a sense of peace whenever you were around. you were a breath of fresh air and a reminder of his childhood days, where he hadn’t gone to the war yet, where he didn’t live a life of crime, where everything was normal.

he didn’t want to admit it, though. he was never good at expressing himself…

…until tonight.

“tommy!” you gasped. “why are you here?”

“because i can.” he said nonchalantly.

“just because you can doesn’t mean you should.” you huffed in frustration.

he shrugged.

“how did you get in my house?”

“key under your doormat.” he drawled, approaching you drunkenly.

you let out a squeak as he collapsed on your bed, nearly crushing your legs.

“okay, congratulations for knowing where i keep my house key, but that doesn’t give you the right to just barge in my house.” you looked at the clock on your wall, checking the time. “especially at three in the morning, you dimwit!”

“‘m sorry… it’s just… i’ve been thinking about you.. a lot– actually, an unhealthy amount. i couldn’t help it. i just wanted to see you again.”

“what?” you blinked.

“you heard me.”

“yes, i did, but…” that was unexpected. “what exactly do you mean by that?”

“by god, woman.” he sat up and you flinched when he started to yell. “how fucking oblivious are you? i’m in love with you, for fuck’s sake!–“

you covered his mouth, shushing him, trying to get him to calm down. you were already dealing with a drunk thomas, who barged into your home uninvited, and the last thing you wanted was to deal with noise complaints from your neighbors.

“please, quiet down, will you?”

he grabbed your wrist, prying your hand off his mouth and guiding your hand to his cheek. he closed his eyes, sighing in bliss, reveling in the warmth of your touch.

“tommy.” you muttered under your breath.

“i mean it, (y/n). i love you. i’ve loved you ever since we were kids.”

was it true?

was it really true?

well, you were aware of the saying: “drunk words are sober thoughts”

and that made your face heat up.

“i–“ you gulped, trying to build up the courage to confess, so he didn’t think it was one-sided. “–i love you too, tommy. i’ve loved you ever since you offered to let me play with you when i had no one to play with.” you moved your thumb up and down his cheekbone. “you may be a dangerous gangster to the world, but you’re just tommy to me. my tommy. you think you’ve changed, but deep inside, that innocent, kind-hearted little boy is still there.”

thomas’ lips curved up, a genuine smile on his face.

you widened your eyes.

it had been so long since he smiled in such a way that you had forgotten just how beautiful it was.

he leaned towards your face and connected your lips together. you were caught off guard, but happily obliged and kissed him back.

he tasted like a mix of cigarettes and whisky. nonetheless, it was amazing.

he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. he entwined your fingers together and with his other hand, he pulled your body against his.

he proceeded to gently place you on your back, with him on top of you, not breaking the kiss for a second.

“fuck, i love you.” he said in between kisses. “i love you so much. i’ve been dreaming about this moment my whole life.“

he roamed his hands around your body whilst you raked yours through his hair.

he pulled away just to get a quick glimpse of your messy appearance before reconnecting your lips.

he slithered a hand under your nightgown and you moaned as his fingers made contact with your clothed clit, rubbing it through your undergarment until a wet patch formed.

he moved your nightgown up to your stomach, fiddling with the elastic band of your undergarment, and yanked it off. he reached down to touch your bare pussy, inserting two fingers inside. with how wet you were, he was able to put them in with ease.

your moans were becoming louder each time he thrusted and curled his fingers against your walls, so you clasped a hand on your mouth to prevent any more noise from spilling out.

he stopped and demanded, “no, let me hear.”

“my neighbors–“

“if they even think about coming here and ruining this, i’ll fucking send them six feet under.”

he scooted backwards, placing his head in between your legs. you could feel his hot breath hitting your core and your core clenched. he darted his tongue out, licking a long stripe up your clit, before attaching his entire mouth onto it. he sucked harshly, eating you out like he was a man starved, making your eyes roll back at the insane amount of pleasure he was giving you.

your vision turned white as the coil inside of you intensified into a powerful ball of energy. and then it bursted, the ecstasy setting all your nerves ablaze.

it felt good, so so good.

he crawled back on top of you, kissing you, letting you taste yourself.

then, he pulled away once more to admire his work.

he loved the way you looked beneath him.

how swollen your lips were.

how breathless you were.

how red your cheeks were.

he loved knowing that your current appearance was caused by him and only him. rightfully so.

“all for me, eh?”

his deep, sultry voice sent shivers down your spine.

“all for you, tom.”

note: help, my unexperienced ass doesn’t fucking know how to write nsfw content. this is so bad.

[feninina]

𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓

𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

It was awkward, to say the least.

You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.

This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.

He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.

Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.

And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.

"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"

Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.

You were landing right in the palm of his hand.

Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.

Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.

You have everything. That was bullshit.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.

You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.

It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.

And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.

Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.

It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.

Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.

But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.

You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.

Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.

So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.

It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.

He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.

After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.

One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.

"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"

You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.

You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.

"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"

You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.

That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.

He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.

After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.

You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.

After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.

You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.

It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.

But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.

You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.

At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.

He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.

"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".

You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.

You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.

Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.

Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.

"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"

He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.

He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.

"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"

The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.

But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.

"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"

That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.

"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"

He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.

You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.

He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.

"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.

It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"

You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.

Bingo.

"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"

It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.

Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.

"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"

Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.

"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"

You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.

A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.

"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.

Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.

"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"

"To be fucked stupid"

It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.

A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.

"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"

He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.

But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.

It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.

His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.

But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.

You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.

“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”

You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.

“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”

You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.

“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”

And maybe he was.

Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.

Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.

You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.

“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.

You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.

He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.

“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”

“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.

“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.

Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.

He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.

You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.

He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.

“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.

“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”

You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.

“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”

You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.

With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.

“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”

A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.

“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.

You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.

You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.

“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”

He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.

“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”

You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.

Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.

“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”

Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.

“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”

“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.

You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.

“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.

It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.

“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.

You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.

The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.

He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.

But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.

He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.

“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.

You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.

“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”

You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.

“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”

“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?

“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”

You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”

“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”

His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.

But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.

He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.

He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.

“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”

You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.

“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.

In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.

You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.

“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”

“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”

He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.

Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.

“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.

“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”

You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.

“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”

“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”

Then you realized it.

When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.

That was your cure.

His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.

You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.

He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.

He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.

When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.

“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”

You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.

When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.

You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.

thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)

taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist

if you want to be added let me know, it’ll be my pleasure🫶🏻

[floralcyanide]

˚₊✩‧₊◜kinktober 2023! ―

― day one ⛧ cockwarming

Cillian Murphy x Reader

A routine Zoom call between you, Cillian, and his parents gets a little interesting.

warnings: smut, cockwarming, penetrative sex, semi-public sex, overstimulation, milking, unprotected sex

word count: 930

author's note: welcome to day one of kinktober! I'm so excited for this year and can't wait to write as much for this challenge as possible. I was going to have weeks planned out, but fell ill with pneumonia, so I'm two whole weeks behind. hopefully I'll complete the challenge! fingers crossed. if I don't, there's always next year! I hope everyone enjoys!! feedback is always appreciated (: (keep in mind most of the kinktober works will be short.)

kinktober masterpost | kinktober taglist form | main masterlist | main taglist form

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

When Cillian tells you to pull up your dress upon entering his office, you expect him to drop to his knees before you. Instead, he waves you over to where he’s sitting on his desk chair, motioning for you to sit on his lap. You look at him, confused for a moment, before doing as he wordlessly asked. You can feel Cillian fumble his hands behind you, his cold watch brushing against the warm skin of your tailbone that’s exposed from your lifted dress. You hear his zipper come undone, and that’s when you realize what he’s wanting. Cillian adjusts you on his lap so you’re hovering, and he aligns his length with your clothed entrance, teasing your clit through your underwear. He pushes the fabric to the side with his fingers, allowing his tip to brush against your wetness. You slowly push yourself onto him, and Cillian guides himself into you at a snail’s pace. You aren’t quite wet enough yet, so he takes his time. Once he’s wholly sheathed inside your warmth, Cillian grabs your hips so you can’t move.

“What are you doing?” you half laugh, half ask curiously.

“I want you to just sit here and be a good girl, alright?”

“That’s kind of hard with you inside me, Cill.”

“You can do it, baby. You’re so good for me.”

You shiver at his words as you watch him fiddle with his computer, opening Zoom. You gulp nervously and hope he isn’t about to have a sort of meeting while you’re warming his cock. You aren’t sure what you’d do if you had to act normal while Cillian’s thick, now-throbbing length is being squeezed by your walls. 

But something even worse happens- Cillian opens Zoom with his parents. You forgot it’s Sunday, which is the day he usually calls them. You gulp down your nervousness, trying to appear presentable.

“Oh, hi!” you grin at the sight of his mother popping up on the screen, trying not to react to how Cillian’s fingernails are digging into the delicate skin of where your hips meet your thighs.

“How are you, darling?” his mother asks sweetly.

Cillian thrusts into you, disguising it as a minor shifting in his chair, and you have to clear your throat to stifle a moan, “I’m well, thanks! And you?”

“Oh, we’re just fine,” CIllian’s father chimes in, “Taking good care of my son, I see?”

“Of course,” you nod your head, rubbing your palm along Cillian’s thigh out of sight, “He’s being a good boy as always.” you joke.

Cillian rolls his hips slowly, causing your hand to pause its movements and your nails to dig into his slacks. He then engages in conversation with his father as you maintain a healthy combo of eye contact with his parents and looking at Cillian behind you.

“Are you sitting on his lap, dear? Are there no chairs in his office?” Cillian’s mom asks out of the blue, a hint of teasing in her voice.

“Still no extra chairs or furniture in here,” you poke Cillian’s cheek, “I’ve been telling him ever since we moved in, Mrs. Murphy.”

“Stubborn old thing,” his mother scolds playfully, “A new home needs its furniture!”

You begin to feel restless on Cillian’s cock, wishing for nothing more than to fuck him senseless. You want to end the call, spin around, and bounce on him for hours. But of course, until he gives the word, you can’t move.

“Well, we were just checking in to see how you were doing. We best be headed off now; love you,” Cillian waves to his parents.

They wave back, bidding farewells before Cillian ends the call. Silence fills the room, and all that can be properly heard is the sound of your ragged breathing.

“Please,” you whimper, “Let me move.”

“Then move.”

You shakily raise your hips until Cillian is almost outside you before slamming back down, your thighs hitting his. He lets out a strangled moan, hands gripping your sides tightly. 

“I’ve been wanting to teach you a lesson,” Cillian says through gritted teeth, letting you slowly lift and lower yourself along his cock, “About patience.”

“Lesson learned, then,” you sigh, spinning around to face Cillian, “I hear you loud and clear.”

You grab his cheeks as you pick up your pace of bouncing on his length, gaining a nice and steady rhythm. Cillian looks at you with glazed-over eyes, his tongue darting from his mouth to run over his lips. 

“Was the lesson worth it? Or was the patience killing you more than me?” you smirk.

“I'm not sure. There were times I wanted to take you over the desk on the call.”

“Really?” you wonder, “Maybe next time.”

“Not when on the phone, though,” Cillian warns.

“Alright,” you sigh, swiveling your hips around as your orgasm creeps into your stomach.

“Gonna cum,” Cillian mumbles lazily, thrusting himself into you in time with your movements.

“Please do, I’ve been waiting,” you pout.

Cillian twitches inside you, spilling his seed deep inside your cunt as you ride through your own impending release. Cillian lets you fuck yourself as much as you please despite his overstimulation, letting you milk him as your walls clench from your orgasm. You stop moving, catching your breath as Cillian watches you compose yourself.

“Definitely worth the wait,” you gasp, pushing hair from your face.

“Agreed,” Cillian exhales, leaning back in his chair.

“Can I stay here, though?” 

“On me?”

“Yes.”

Cillian pauses, weighing the pros and cons of you warming him as he does some emailing, “Fine.”

taglist:

@cillianswifefr @ins0mniac-whack @multifans-things @no-fooking-fighting @mypoisonedvine @madnessandobsession @Daviddeu @tiredkitten @lolabunny222 @gimmefood @preparedfruit @thecherrycocktail @thequeenoftheisleofavalon @lilyembry @scarlettlight06 @Gramelda @burnyouwithacigarettelighter @dunklerkeks1611 @reggxe-a @aviamulier @berlyrecords @dorknerdbeautiful @scribbuluswrites @ecstaticforus @vampireluck @doitmour1r @sharrren @desert-springtime @tuffy-floral @hllywdwhre @Death-by-bowie47 @moompie-blog @langdons-slut @cillymyfavdilf @generalvoidthing @luna047 @mg-i-have-issues @darlingsfandom @devotedly-sassy @banshailey @notevenellastein @cillsmurphys @ch3rry-co1a @elegantfacetree @ilikefictionalmen @juleshadalittlelamb @madnessandobsession @ceirinen @treac @Vrfilms @cillian-murph @sstar_ggirl @ecstaticforus @flwrs4aust

(if you signed up to be on the taglist and do not see your name, your tag failed or you may have typed the wrong url.)

[idksmtms]

Plié, Jeté, Relevé (Ballet Master!Cillian Murphy x Ballerina!reader)

A/N: Here you go my lovelies! I have literally never done ballet in my entire life, so any knowledge of this has come from watching tiktoks of ballerinas, movies with ballerinas in them, or my best guesses… anywaysssss, I hope you enjoy it! 

Also, would highly recommend watching the performance of Still Life at the Penguin Cafe on youtube, the music and the dancing is *chefs kiss* 

Summary: You were ready to admit that you hadn’t been at your best the past week or so, but surely you hadn’t been so bad as to deserve this much wrath from Mister Murphy… 

Word count:  3,750 

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, mean!Cillian, SMUT, dub-con bc of the power imbalance (?), fingering (technically?), humiliation (not as a kink tho), only reader orgasms, depiction of toxic teaching environment, (please let me know if I missed any) 

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

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

If anyone out there believed in the stereotype that all Irish people were happy and jovial then they clearly hadn’t met your ballet master. The man may speak with a lilting musical accent but there was not a thing jovial or happy about him. The master was harsh, verging on cruel. If anyone was caught slacking even the littlest bit, something that would go unnoticed by the rest of the troupe, his voice would crack like a whip through the studio. 

Recently, that whip had been directed at you. You knew you weren’t doing your best. You had hit a rough patch in your entire life. You had been late more times than ever before, more times than you ever would usually be, more times than you would like. And your dancing had been affected as well. Your posture wasn’t straight enough, your pliés weren’t deep enough, your toes not pointed enough. Everything was going wrong, and while you had hoped it wasn’t noticeable, Mr Murphy never failed to find every SINGLE one of your mistakes. 

Today differed in no way. You had dilly-dallied a little too long while getting ready in the morning, only to end up running late for rehearsal. It was no more than five minutes, but from the start of training it was the rule that all ballerinas must be lined up by the barre at exactly ten o’clock every day. For every minute you were late, the worse your punishment got. Usually if someone hit the five minute mark, they went home and sprained their ankle on purpose for an excuse. 

At four minutes, you had run into the hallway outside the studio and thrown your bag onto the ground, disregarding the sound of your water bottle rolling away and one of your keychains cracking under the weight of your things. At five, you were throwing the door open and running inside, slipping into the back of the line and getting into first position. 

Mr Murphy paused in his speech to gaze at you. You stared straight ahead, refusing to look directly at him. Slowly, his eyebrow rose, scrutinising you with a frown that made shame curl in your stomach and tears make themselves known behind your eyes. He slowly brought his hands together, rubbing them as he sighed and began shaking his head. 

“Kind of you to join us,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he made his way closer to you, stepping leisurely, dragging out the fear that made your throat hurt. He stood a few feet away, staring at you in that impenetrable way of his, ice eyes sharp and painful wherever they gazed. He clapped his hands once. “Girls, turn and look at Ms. Y/L/N.” He waited until each of them had turned in their spots, some craning their heads to the side to make sure they were looking at you lest they somehow disobey him. You could see the pity, the sympathy, the smug triumph in each of the girls’ eyes, the frowns and subtle smirks, and you could do nothing other than keep staring ahead of you as your hands and knees suddenly began to tremble. “What is wrong with her?” 

He didn’t ask it in a rude or incredulous way, but as if you were a diagram in a textbook, and this was simply an exercise the students were completing. You were sure your shame was visible on your face, the embarrassment turning your spine to liquid. One of the girls put her hand up, near the front of the room, and you only recognised her for the little kiss-ass she was once she spoke. She had always been that way, desperate for Mr Murphy. Always at the front of the line, always gleeful at the downfall of others, always ready to point out any mistakes. And you were always happy to watch her desperation help her in no way whatsoever. A lot could be said about Mr Murphy, but favouritism was not something he had ever displayed. Whichever ballerina was doing well, recognisably well, was given her dues, and it was left at that. 

“She’s not wearing her tights and leotard, or at least, she’s wearing sweatpants over them. Her pointe shoes are dirty, and her hair isn’t in a bun.” You could almost imagine her satisfied little smirk when she finished speaking, that evil little smile that you had always wanted to punch off her face. One swing, you thought, just one swing… 

“Correct,” he simply responded, threading his fingers through each other and raising his eyebrow at you again, as if confused and annoyed at you for not doing something. “Leave, get your shit together, and then come back inside. If you have not returned within ten minutes, don’t bother returning to rehearsal ever again.” He nudged his chin in the direction of the door and you nodded obediently, eyes downcast as you stood up straight and slowly walked back out. 

When the door was closed behind you once more, you stood silently for a minute, eyes clenched shut and hands curled into fists at your sides. You pressed out a scream behind your pursed lips, teeth clenched so hard your jaw began to hurt. You slammed the heel of your hand against the side of your head again and again and again until your shoulder hurt a little from the motion and your brain felt sufficiently jumbled. Your chest was heaving and you were overwhelmed with rage. You wanted to kick something, to throw something, to go back in there and rip that bitch’s hair out of her bun. You resolved to pulling your pointe shoes off and lobbing them across the hallway as hard as you could, letting out another clenched scream before walking all the way down to pick them up and bring them back. 

You stood in front of your bag and took three deep breaths. You picked up your water bottle from where it had rolled between another two of the ballerinas’ bags, and took huge gulps of water until you felt a little less sweaty with anger. You checked the time on your phone to make sure you hadn’t wasted your ten minutes, then set about carefully pulling off your joggers, folding them up, and placing them inside your duffel. You pulled out a new pair of pointe shoes, cursing yourself for not having prepared them in time and preemptively wincing at the blisters you knew you were going to get by the end of rehearsal. You walked down to the bathroom at the end of the hall in the pointe shoes, hoping to at least break them in a little bit with the short time you had, and used the mirror to quickly pull your hair into a bun, securing it with pins in a practised dance you had learned from years of repetition. You checked yourself once more in the mirror and then looked down at your phone before sprinting full on back to the room and sliding through the doors. You made it just in time. 

Mr Murphy glanced at you as you slipped into position at the back of the line, following the exercises he had been calling out to the ballerinas while you had been out. He methodically looked at every inch of your body, from your pointe shoes to your pink tights and black leotard, from the careful set of your bun to the determined set of your brow and sheen of sweat on your temples. He didn’t say anything directly to you, and you took it as a win. 

At the halfway point, you were all allowed a little break to drink water and have a rest before you switched from exercises to rehearsals for your next performance. You were all practising for your various roles in a performance of ‘Still Life at the Penguin Cafe’, and though you would have to wear a huge mask of a ram on your head, you were ecstatic for the performance. While it wasn’t technically a solo, you were the centre of the piece, being the only one not dressed as a penguin. Now, everything felt so precarious. You couldn’t quite be sure Mr Murphy wouldn’t take the role from you after the past two weeks spent in a slump, and the worry was becoming your ever-present companion. 

Just as the girls were all leaving the room to get water and lounge around on the floor of the hallway, Mr Murphy cleared his throat and snapped his fingers at you. 

“Ms. Y/L/N,” and he pointed at the spot right in front of him. It took everything within you not to sprint to the spot. You took careful, measured, steps and stopped a few feet in front of him, spine straight and head held high. You weren’t sure where to look. You could never meet his eyes, something in your soul was opposed to it, so you chose a spot on the wall just next to his head. 

“You will stay for another hour at the end of the session to make up for your failures this morning, understood?” He raised both his eyebrows, hands on his hips. You closed your eyes, trying not to burst into tears like a child throwing a tantrum on the spot. You nodded, whispered a ‘yes, sir’ in a clogged voice, and waited until he dismissed you to walk out of the room. 

You sat down by your bag with a sigh, arms slung over your knees as you cradled the water bottle close and pressed your face to it. You closed your eyes and allowed your head to dip down as some of your friends came to sit around you, offering pats of sympathy and words of comfort. You tried to smile, nodded in thanks, but you just wanted to curl up into a ball and never get back up. 

The next few hours were spent going through each section of the dance. You felt lucky that you didn’t get to the Ram piece, you were sure you couldn’t hold it together long enough for that, only to be doused with cold water at the thought that you needed to stay longer afterward. 

When rehearsal was over, Mr Murphy dismissed everyone right on the dot. He didn’t acknowledge you as the girls started leaving, the chatter slowly beginning to rise as they reached the door. For a moment you wondered if you could get away with leaving with everyone else, but just as you reached the door he called out “ten minutes at most, Ms Y/L/N, then I want you back in here.” Your bones seemed to disappear and you thought you would collapse to the floor in a heap of mushy flesh. Instead you nodded and wobbled your way outside to chug what was left of your water bottle, refill it, then chug the contents again as tears of exhaustion slipped from the corners of your eyes and mingled with the sweat dampening the hair by your temples and ears. 

The ten minutes were up far too quickly and you stood with a groan, heading to the door once more. You gazed at the room from the door, the light hardwood floors, the wall of mirrors and the bar spanning the length of the room, the huge windows letting in swaths of natural light. You often forgot how beautiful the space was. 

You walked slowly to where Mr Murphy stood, typing something on his phone and moving the speaker to face the room again. You stood before him, hands clasped and eyes downcast, waiting for instructions. For a while, he didn’t say anything. He was no longer on his phone, his hands hanging by his sides, and he stared at you. Every few seconds you glanced, trying to glimpse what was going to happen, but he just continued watching you, stoic as ever. 

You could never tell what he was thinking. Never once had you been able to guess at his thought process, to figure out what was going on in his head. Maybe that was one of the reasons he intimidated you so much. 

He walked closer, so close the toes of his shoes almost touched the toes of yours and you gulped, staring at the contrast, the black and the pink, the background of wood. His hand came up and he tapped up under your chin with the side of his index finger, waiting for you to lift your head. When you did, your entire face felt hot under the skin. He was so close, you could see the freckles splashed on his skin, the careful set of his cheekbones and jaw. You gulped. His eyes were so much more terrifying up close. 

“You’ve been given a gift,” he began, slow and firm, “your ability, your natural rhythm, that is a gift. Unless you put in effort to finetune this gift, it goes to waste. Do you understand what I’m saying?” You nodded but he shook his head once. “Speak.” 

“Yes sir,” you breathed out quickly, gulping when your mouth was closed again. 

“I’m not sure you do, though,” and it felt like the hammer falling. His eyes seemed to harden a little, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “The past two weeks all I have seen is a sloppy, unprincipled, uncommitted dancer who deems merely showing up a success.” Each word was a stab to some part of you, and it took everything not to wilt completely to the floor. “You have been given one of the more difficult roles in the performance, and I once believed you deserved it. For the life of me, I cannot remember why.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you closed your eyes, throat bobbing as the despair that felt inevitable finally began to land. 

He went silent, and that felt worse somehow. The backs of your eyelids began to burn and you clenched your hands tighter around each other, hoping the little pain it brought would distract from the tears. You berated yourself in your head. You yelled in your mind that this was a pathetic display, that it would be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done if you began to cry in front of him. He would think less of you, it would only confirm what he believed; you were weak. When you opened your eyes again, one traitorous tear slipped out and down your cheek. You could feel the hot, ticklish track it made down the skin. If you didn’t know better, you thought you saw Mr Murphy’s eyes soften. 

He breathed out, long and tired, and reached up to gently wipe the tear away with his thumb. Your breath caught in your throat. His hand was warm. Your chest felt tight. His skin was soft. You stared into his eyes. He left the side of his hand against your face, as if allowing himself to feel the skin. Something in your stomach writhed impatiently. Everything seemed to have changed within a second. Some deep seated urge whispered in your ear to open your mouth and lick his thumb. You shivered. 

“Turn around,” his voice was low, rough, and you almost moaned at the sound. You gulped again, but obeyed almost instantly. You heard some shuffling, and then the music started, the slow long notes interspersed with the quick little strums, a beautiful, almost joyful piece of music. Then Mr Murphy was pressed right against your back, and suddenly the music was secondary. His chest, firm, solid, was moulded to your back. You could feel the soft fabric of his black shirt, the puffs of his breaths against the back of your neck. Your entire body shivered. He was warm, like a heater on a middle setting, and if you weren’t so tense, you would melt against him. You could feel his nose against your head as he bent slightly. You could feel his lips graze the shell of your ear as he whispered “relax.” You tried, forcing your muscles to loosen like you would before a performance. 

His hands trailed down your arms, his fingertips running down your biceps, then your forearms until you shivered against him again. When he reached your wrists, he hooked his own hands under them and began raising them in time with the music. You turned your head to the right, watched his hand raise your own, your lips parted and breaths heavy. You couldn’t move past the feeling of him pressed to your back. 

You almost missed the cue to move, almost, and pulled away from him slowly, carefully, using the measured steps required by the music. You left your right hand in his, just the barest touch of your fingertips against his, the illusion of contact as you moved to the left, feet lifting high. His eyes seemed to pierce through you, and suddenly you enjoyed the feeling in a sick, scary way. You walked forward until you were in line with Mr Murphy, still an arm’s length away before he stepped forward and your arms moved to a waltz position. He settled into the space, gripping your hands firmly in his. He was pressed as close as he could be, closer than your actual partner would be for the dance, and you set your eyes on his face. Your pulse thrummed in your ears, you were in your element. 

You went through all the steps of the dance like you had been born knowing it. Your bodies were like water as they moved, smooth, graceful. You hadn’t felt this intune to the music in a long time, hadn’t felt this much like a dancer in a long time. You could almost see the crowd in front of you, the blinding lights, the smooth fabric of the dress. 

At the final step, Mr Murphy gripped your hand and spun you into him, changing the ending of the dance. You gasped as you leaned back into his chest. His head was bent down, pressing his face into your hair. You were panting, torso moving up and down quickly but trapped in the confines of his arms crossed over you. You leaned your head back a little, pressing the curve of your skull into the curve of his neck as he pressed his cheek to the side of your head. The music was fading out, and the only sounds in the room were your mingling breaths, heaving into the air of the room. 

His left palm pressed against your stomach, firm and insistent, but you couldn’t be bothered to look down. It seared into your already boiling skin and you closed your eyes. You tuned into the sensation of his hand slowly sliding down, bit by bit, inching down over your stomach then pressing against your pelvis. You gasped as you felt his fingertips brush over the leotard just at the top of your pussy. Your hand moved behind you, gripping his sides, clenching into the soft fabric of his shirt. 

He didn’t say anything, just breathed heavily against the side of your head, and you didn’t stop him. His hand moved farther down, pressing against the softness atop your core. Gently, his index finger moved to the centre line and began pressing in. You lifted up on your toes a little when you felt the pressure through the fabric, the indent of his finger pressing against your clit. You were hot and wet, he could feel the heat emanating from your core against his hand.

He kept his finger pressed there until you became restless, impatient, pressing your hands a little harder against his ribs. Slowly, keeping the pressure, he moved his finger down until he was pressing against your hole. The warm tendrils of pleasure slowly undulated up your insides. He repeated the motion, up then down and pressing a little harder against your hole. 

You breathed out heavily, shakily, and bent your knees to press a little harder into the feeling. 

Up, down, press. Up, down, press. He circled your clit through the fabric, pressing against the pulsing little bud. Up, down, press, drag up, drag down, press. You were panting into the air, face contorted, mouth up and head tilted up, resting against his shoulder. Your eyes were screwed shut, hips moving to chase the motions. He didn’t say anything, just breathed heavily against your ear, held you tighter against his body. 

You were both standing in the middle of the large studio, bathed in the early evening light. Your hands clenched a little harder against his sides. The warm tendrils were lasting longer, becoming more frenzied, curling up into your stomach and making your hole flutter. His right hand moved up and cupped your breast, gripping firmly and burning the heat of his hand into the flesh. 

You were engulfed by him, wrapped up in both his arms as he pressed his fingers harder and quicker against the seam of your core, moving up and down, pressing and releasing. He ran the edge of his thumbnail against the fabric over your nipple and your pelvis shook. You writhed in his arms at the spark it shot to your core, at the electric pulse it created and ultimately pushed you over the precipice. A moan, a high-pitched whine shot from your mouth, echoing in the room. You pressed yourself so hard against him he almost lost his balance, moving one foot back to keep the two of you upright. Your hands hurt from how stiff they became clenched into the fabric of his shirt. 

Slowly, he released the pressure against your core. He grazed his finger up until he could press his hand to your stomach again. He left it there and the two of you heaved breaths in sync. You began to flutter your eyes open, still lost in the blood rushing through your head. His right hand came up and gripped your chin, pushing it so you faced to the left where his head had dropped down. He leaned back a little, you tilted forward a smidge, your eyes met. Your lips were still parted, his mirrored. Then he surged forward, pressing his mouth to yours, his nose sliding into the crease between your cheek and nose. He tasted warm and minty. His lips were plush and cushiony soft. He pulled away and you looked into his eyes again. 

Neither of you said a word.

Taglist: @4ria790

[your-nanas-house]

Be quick

(Credits to the owner @corodedcofin)

◇ Pairing: Perv Stepbrother!Neil Lewis X stepsister!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, pervy Neil, hanjob, dub-con but not really, indifference, age gap (both off age), shitty writing, curses

◇ Summary: Neil receiving a handjob on the sofa while his stepsister looks at her phone.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Been working on this things since weeks now... it's shit and I'm sorry. 🤷🏼‍♀️🙇🏼‍♀️

A small snort left Neil's lips, he was getting bored for the first time while watching one of the movies he usually liked to watch.

It had been a while since he broke up with Violet and he missed a bit... that thrill mixed with adrenaline. He certainly wasn't the Neil he once was, not even in the way he wished— especially when he thought at his step sister.

The young woman had been such a little tease lately.

The possibilities that she was it while Neil was in the relationship were pretty high but he was always too busy to actually notice and let his body react to it.... every day. Because it kept happening every single day since his eyes took her in, waking up his cock at the mere view of bit of skin.

He blamed it mostly on the lack of sex in his life and the urge of fisting his lenght to make time and stress go away.

Y/n, his mother's new boyfriend's daughter... aka his step-sister, was being a bother even though she was just sitting right besides him, her eyes locked on the phone rather than the TV.

His baby blue eyes couldn't stop wandering around her body, taking peeks at her cleavage and her short shorts she was wearing at home— and he was doing it again. Luckily they were all alone that day, no-one was around, so.... he could finally get what he craved so much.

The only issue that was stopping him from doing anything was the poor plan he had in mind... how could he start it all? he wondered silently.

A short mental battle and Neil shifted slightly closer, his face turned still towards the TV to pretend that he was watching the movie playing on it, as he spread slightly his thigh to brush it against Y/n's bare a couple of time to see if he received any reaction from her.

Receiving none he continued with the plan, taking her hand and placed it down on his lap casually, sending finally the message that he was trying to give her without murmuring it explicitly— he was so aroused, nearly thrilled... thrilled enough to twitch at the mere warmth of her hand.

Y/n not really, she was still cursing mentally for that drunk bet she had with him and her lost which causing her to fall in that absurd situation.

'That fucking perv' she thought while starting finally to move her hand, feeling his hard cock, pressing against his pajamas pants, with her little finger.

Her hand limited to only rub his thigh for the moment as she waited for him to lower his pants and free his lenght— her eyes never leaving the screen of her phone.

Neil glanced at her, his breath peaking up as he bit his bottom lip in anticipation too earger to actually move... just wanting her soft groomed hand to wrap around his thick long cock and lead the way to heaven.

She didn't even needed to glance in his direction to see what to do since her stepbrother's hand moved her own to wrap it around his leaking cock, allowing that way her eyes to stay glued to the screen.

His cock was hard, his skin soft and plesant to touch while his tip was of an angry red... as it let some pre-cum drip on her fingers as soon as she moved his foreskin.

"Oh fuck" Neil curses, biting harder his bottom lip as he watched her move her hand lazily, his hips jerking desperately up to meet her movements. The young girl had been able to give it just a couple of slow pumps before the older man wrapped his own big hand around her smaller one... so to guide her better and not allow her to tease him further.

His fingers intertwined with hers, his thumb caressed the back of her hand before he moved it off his cock, so that he could lean closer and spit on it as a lubricant to ease the handjob.

"Neil! You're fucking disgusting" Y/n cursed at his action, making a face at the odd feeling of his spit on the inside of her hand. He really was so gross sometimes.

"Fuck, say my name again" he breathed out overwhelmed by the situation, his hand guiding hers back around his lenght "Remember, squee—" he started, cursing softly as she interrupted him with her movements.

"Yes, yes... I know how you like it, now shut up" Y/n murmured, scrolling her phone while working his cock... her hand squeezing it teasingly while his rough action kept pleasuring him, her hand hitting his bases before moving fast back up to the tip... up and down, up.. and down.

His balls where already reacting, getting pulled up by the muscles as his breath got heavier, pathetic whines leaving his mouth.

"Don't stop, don't stop, fuck, Y/n!" Neil nearly cried, arching his back while fucking her hand faster, working on his balls with his own hand to reach faster his peak.

"Fucking hell, how much longer do you need?" Y/n's voice exclaimed making him shiver and whine while her other hand, which was previously holding her phone, slapped his hands away so that she could jerk him off faster and better... already without patience.

"Fucking pathetic" the younger woman murmured, cursing when his warm seed got shot... not only dirtying her hands but her face and top as well due to the bend over position she had been in.

"Neil!—"

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Sweet Revenge | Tom (The Party) x fem!reader

Summary: Tom is acting strange and it doesn't take long for a friend to notice while at a party celebrating their mutual friend's political victory. When she steps in to question him about it, she learns more than she thought she would... but it makes their ride in the elevator a little more interesting.

Warnings: Infidelity (from multiple characters), drug use, dubious consent, semi-public sex, smut, p in v, guns, mentions of attempted murder, revenge.

word count: 3386k

Nothing Matters- The Last Dinner Party 🎶

Personal Jesus- Depeche Mode 🎵

Note: Sorry I disappeared for so long! I was dealing with some things and had to put Cillian to the side. I've missed this awesome community! I hope you all still remember me lol.

Please read warnings before continuing, thanks!

She heard about the election on the news that afternoon. Saying that she was ecstatic was an understatement. In fact, the moment she heard that Janet won (as she assumed she would) she dressed quickly and arrived at the celebratory party early. She fixed the bunched up fabric on her thigh and scratched an itch beneath the collar around her neck. She raised her fist to knock on the door when the elevator doors pinged and she turned. Tom stumbled out of the elevator, slightly disheveled and sweaty. When he noticed her he ran his hand through his hair and sniffed loudly, his eyes rolling over to meet hers. 

“Tom?” She smiled, her tone friendly and soft. Her eyes traveled up his body, dressed in a dark tailored suit. 

Tom cleared his throat before responding, strangely breathless. “Hello.” He looked behind him at the empty elevator and debated going back inside. The doors slid closed and he turned back dejectedly like a child caught in a crime. 

“You’re here early too,” she rubbed the top of her shoe down her leg, an anxious gesture. 

“Right, right… it's early. Maybe I should come back later.” He muttered beneath his breath and jabbed at the elevator call button. 

“I’m sure it's alright. I’m here early too,” she studied his nervous posture and the way his eyes darted between the hallway’s walls, anywhere but her face. “Where’s Marianne?” 

His face twitched at the mention of his wife’s name. His shirt was sticky against his skin and he wanted to leave. This was a mistake. 

“She’s coming later, told me to go ahead.” He sniffed loudly again and jerked his finger at the door behind her. “Have you already knocked?” His dark hair fell into his eyes where crow’s feet gathered. 

“No, I was just about to.” 

The elevator door opened with a second ping. Tom looked at the open doors and back to her. “Fuck all,” he cursed beneath his breath and met her at the door to Janet’s apartment. She resisted the urge to smell him, though his cologne wandered easily the short distance to her nose (notes of bergamot and spice). 

“Are you alright, Tom?” She asked cautiously and watched as his left hand flexed. He clenched his jaw and forced out a laugh. 

“Never better,” he rang the doorbell and waited anxiously as his heart raced in his chest. Janet opened the door and greeted them with overwhelming excitement. Tom’s resolve weakened and he struggled to remain level headed as he greeted his wife’s friend. This was not how it was originally supposed to go but he still had time… 

Janet invited them into the apartment and talked with her as Tom excused himself with a shaky smile. As soon as the door was closed behind him, he removed his jacket and checked the holsters on either side of his body, draped over his shoulders. Sweat pooled on his shirt and he fanned his hands over it, hoping it would dry. 

The girl watched the bathroom door while keeping a polite smile on her face for Janet who was retelling the events of the day. Loud music erupted from the speakers in the living room and she jumped, her hair standing on end for a brief moment. 

“That’s Bill, will you excuse me for a moment?” Janet wiped her hands on the front of her apron and disappeared into the next room. Her conversation with her husband was muffled by the music. She looked once again at the bathroom door and wiped her clammy hands on her forearms. There was something different about Tom and it irked her, not knowing what was going on. She was closest in age to Tom and Marianne and considered them her friends, though she didn’t actually know them well. She knew, however, that Tom had a problem with coke, all of the finance boys did. His attitude was stranger than usual, more paranoid and jumpy. The music quieted and Janet returned, humming happily to herself. As soon as she did, the doorbell rang and she spun around, clapping her hands excitedly. 

Tom splashed his face with cold water and let it run down his neck, far below his collar. He shivered beneath the water’s temperature and looked up into the medicine cabinet’s mirror. He imagined Bill in the next room, smugly splayed out in his old recliner. He imagined how good it would feel to shoot him, to get revenge against the man that defiled his wife. His wife. Anger flashed in his eyes and he bit down on the sleeve of his suit jacket, screaming silently into the fabric. He heard the doorbell ring and jumped, his heart dropped painfully into his stomach. He checked the gun in his holster for the fiftieth time that day, counting the round of bullets in the chamber. He waited until the new guests moved further into the apartment before leaving the bathroom. 

The girl watched Tom leave the bathroom and pause just before the door frame into the living room. His stomach quivered beneath his dress shirt as he breathed heavily. When she noticed him spin his wedding around his finger in an anxious instinct, she averted her eyes and flushed. He spun right around and went back into the bathroom. She followed him with her eyes, brows furrowed in extreme distress. 

Tom closed the door again and rubbed his face with his shaking hands. He rummaged through his pockets and retrieved a vial of white powder (coke… obvi). Yes, he had a problem. Obviously. Tom wiped the edge of the sink clean with his elbow and shook powder from the vial onto the surface. He arranged the powder in a line and did the line, shaking his head and sitting back against the rim of the bathtub. A smudge of powder stayed on his upper lip, providing evidence of what he’d done. He knocked his knuckles against the soft sides of his head and tried to regain control. He just needed to act normal, go into the living room and be fucking normal. He wiped away the traces of coke on the sink and fixed his hair in the mirror, trying to slick the greased strands back over his head. 

The girl twirled the cord of her necklace around her finger, her eyes stuck on the bathroom door. She jumped again when the door slammed open and Tom stumbled out, his pupils dilated and his eyes crazed. Tom bounded for the doorway into the living room and stopped abruptly. He walked back and forth, muttering beneath his breath as he did. 

“Tom?” She approached him carefully. Her voice startled him from his erratic state. He licked his lips nervously. 

“I forgot something in my car,” Tom blurted out and spun around a last time, walking quickly to the car. She followed him immediately, her eyes trained on the width of his shoulders. 

“I’ll go with you,” she insisted with a backwards glance at the living room, loud with guests. Tom didn’t respond as he made wide strides to the elevator doors. His breath was heavy and hard as he punched the call button and looked down at her, standing at his side. 

“What are you doing?” He asked. 

“I’m going with you.” She answered apprehensively. Tom cleared his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. 

“You don’t need to do that,” his eyes flicked back at the apartment door. When the elevator doors opened he sighed, debating what to do. He knew better than to go back into the apartment. He’d have to come back another time. She followed him into the elevator and pressed the lobby button for him, her ears growing hot. Tom coughed into his closed fist and started to sweat as the doors closed. 

“Is everything alright, Tom?” She asked him directly as the doors closed and the elevator sunk below the floor. 

“Fine. Fine.” He avoided eye contact and put his hands on his hips, the crotch of his pants bunching around his thighs. He looked up at the floor numbers flashing across the screen above the doors. 

“You don’t seem fine, Tom. What the hell were you doing in there just now?” She raised her eyebrow and crossed her arms. Tom groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“I’ve just had a long day.”

“Just one?” She asked him with a grunt. “You look like you haven’t slept in days… plural.” 

“Bitch.” Tom snapped and crossed his arms, mirroring her. 

The elevator jolted suddenly and the lights flickered. They stopped their bickering for a moment. She noticed the floor number had stopped at three. The buttons for each floor flashed across the board. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Tom repeated frustratedly and jabbed at the buttons. 

“Stop, you’ll make it worse.” She slapped his hands away and he groaned, resting his head against the wall of the elevator. 

“It’s stuck,” he mumbled and she nodded, her lips falling into a nervous frown. 

“Yes, it appears so.” She studied the buttons and jabbed at the one labeled “call.” 

Hello? The operator answered after a few seconds. 

“Hello, hi. We’re stuck in the elevator.”

I’ll call the fire department and maintenance. There might be a delay due to the parade traffic but we should have you out soon. Call again if anything happens.

“Damn, it sounds like we’ll be in here for a while.” 

“Fuck, just my fucking luck.” 

“You say fuck a lot,” she laughed off some of her discomfort. 

“Fuck you,” Tom added disheartedly. 

She moved back into a corner of the elevator and watched as Tom leaned into the wall, his breath fogging up the gold aluminum wall. 

“You might as well tell me what it is, now that we’ll be here for a while.” She looked down at her shoes and cleared her throat. “Just tell me,” she urged him but Tom only rolled his eyes, the reflection of it projected back at her. 

“Is it the coke?” She tried and Tom laughed. 

“You think I’m like this because of the coke?”

“You’re not giving me any other reason.” She shrugged and Tom turned to face her. 

“That’s not the reason.” 

“You have some of it left above your lip there,” she gestured to her top lip and Tom wiped his mouth quickly with his sleeve.

Tom sighed and slid down the wall into a crouching position, his hands clasped together in front of his face. He exhaled deeply and looked at the opposite wall, away from her. 

“I found out the other day that Marianne has been cheating on me.” His voice wavered as he spoke. 

“What?” She gasped softly. 

He twisted the wedding ring on his finger and chuckled darkly. 

“It’s been going on for months.” 

“Do you know who they are? The person that she’s cheating with?” She asked slowly, her brows furrowed and her heart beating quickly. 

“Yes,” he answered again with a chuckle, his voice pained. “She’s been fucking Bill.” 

“Bill?!” She slapped a hand across her mouth. “Her advisor? Bill’s cheating on Janet? What the fuck?!” The words all fell out of her mouth. Tom shook his head and with one angry movement chucked his wedding ring across the elevator at the opposite wall. The small piece of metal bounced off the wall with a sharp noise and settled between them on the floor. 

“So you were going to confront him?” She asked, everything coming together. 

He nodded and without warning, started to sob. She immediately knelt beside Tom and patted his back awkwardly. Tom, rather comedically, collapsed into her chest, his hands grappling at her sides. Her heart began to race as his face inched closer to her breast. Her hands shaked as she combed his hair (heavy with product) out of his eyes. 

“He stole my wife! He stole my wife,” he cried against her chest. 

“I’m sorry, Tom. I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she carded her fingers through his hair. The texture of his warm skin beneath her fingertips distracted her. The smell of his expensive cologne and hair product flooded her system. She resisted the urge to lick the scent from his neck, taut with tendons. Geez, she was a creep. Tom’s baby-like tears stained her shirt and made the material stick to the skin below. 

“Does Marianne know that you know?” She tried to focus herself back on the situation. 

“No, I saw it on her phone,” he hiccuped pitifully. “They’ve been fucking in my bed, our bed!” 

She shushed him softly as he started to cry again. His manic sobs racked his thick and muscular body. 

“Are you going to divorce her?” She whispered and Tom shook his head softly.

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” 

Tom pulled away and laid his head back against the elevator wall. She could make out all of the freckles and sun spots across his high cheekbones. She sighed as she reached a hand to his face and swept a tear away from his jaw. Tom turned his clear blue eyes to her’s. His wide lips quivered slightly as he panted from all of his emotions. 

“What she and Bill did is inexcusable, Tom. She doesn’t deserve you if she thinks this casually unfaithful behavior is ok.” She was on her knees now, her thighs flexed beneath her dress. 

Tom’s eye traveled up her body, starting on her fleshy thighs. She watched him curiously. Was he doing what she thought he was? Was he checking her out? Tom’s hand rose from the floor beside him and moved to her knee. 

“Y/N…” he whispered pitifully. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she nearly choked on her own exhale. His thumb rubbed circles into her exposed skin. She knew that she shouldn’t but what more harm could it do? Tom wanted to get back at his wife and she wanted to be fucked by Tom. Win/win situation- no, stop it. Don’t look at me like that! It’s totally ethical. Besides, the way his body leaned into her brought about a powerful force of attraction between them. The streaks of graying hair caught the fluorescent light like plastic rhinestones. 

She leaned forward, into his mouth and exhaled softly against his lips. Tom kissed her first, capturing her lips into a harsh kiss. She kissed him back and tugged gently at the roots of his hair. He moaned excitedly around her lips. Words failed them as they kissed. Their hands spoke softly to each other, begging and asking for more. She pushed off Tom’s coat, exposing the holster strung between his shoulder blades. 

“What the fuck?” She whispered, her eyes wide. “What the hell are you doing with a fucking gun, Tom?” 

“I-I just wanted to get back at them, at him. I’m just so angry,” Tom panted emotionally, his hands shaking. She looked between him and the gun and sighed. 

“I can think of another way to get back at them that doesn’t involve this,” she pointed at the gun strapped around his shoulder. Tom looked up at her, his eyes wide as she closed the distance again. She rose on her knees so that she could be taller than him and cupped his jaw. 

“I can think of something that we should do to get back at them,” she whispered against his wide lips. Tom didn’t respond, his heart beating fast and not just because of the cocaine.

“It goes something like this,” she kissed him with hesitant pecks before settling into a deep rhythm. His hands finally started to move up her hips, grasping the edge of her waist. His breath labored against her and she allowed a shuttering moan to escape; a product of pent up energy. 

“Tom… Tom..” she muttered between kisses, her hands pulled up on his stiff white collar, urging him closer. 

“Mmhm..” Tom hummed softly and guided her onto her back, sitting up between her knees. He towered over her and panted, his hands fumbling over his fly. She pulled down her own underwear and kicked it off her ankles. Tom pulled down his pants slightly and boxer briefs, immediately freeing his cock from his pants. He grabbed her thighs and pulled her closer. She slid across the elevator floor and slammed against his waiting hips. She giggled nervously, her face pink. 

“Are you wet enough?” Tom asked quickly, his hand fisting his erection. His dress shirt trailed over his hands, hiding some of his actions from her view. She nodded eagerly and raised the excess of her dress, pulling the material over her upper thighs. Tom nodded breathlessly and entered her without much warning, she gasped and clenched her fists. 

Tom cursed loudly beneath his breath as he filled her up completely. Her body stretched to accommodate him and the sensation sent shivers up both of their bodies like a cold chill. Tom thrusted at a slow rhythm as he worked himself deeper inside her. She whimpered loudly and steadied herself against the hall of the elevator as she slid back and forth on the floor. 

As her body opened more and more, his thrusts became harder and faster. He leaned over her and planted his hands firmly on the floor on either side of her waist. Bringing his hips closer to her, he fucked her aggressively. Instead of dragging out his hips before each thrust, he stayed as deep as possible inside of her and thrusted farther. 

“God you’re so good,” Tom panted as his mouth fell open into a moan. His eyebrows furrowed to keep him focused. 

“Mm-Marianne is an idiot,” she whined around her words and dug her fingers into Tom’s back. Tom fucked her faster as a response, proving himself to her. 

“Fuck- take it. Take it.” He commanded and she gasped as her orgasm grew. He panted with his mouth held open, his hips thudding against her. His curses flew from his mouth in octaves that grew higher as he felt himself spilling over the edge. 

“Tommmm,” she trailed off, mumbling incoherently. He slowed down as he reached his climax so that he could see her reaction. He lowered himself closer to her and laced his fingers gently around her throat. Pulling one of her legs closer around his hip, he fucked her deeply but slow. His fingers flexed and tightened around her soft neck. He studied her closely, sweat pooling between his shoulders and the peak of his brow.

“I know, honey. I know. Marianne could never handle this but you like it when I fuck you. You’d beg me, wouldn’t you?” He whispered as his cock began to flex inside of her. She squeezed her thighs and he grunted, forcing himself through her body’s automatic resistance. She nodded and licked her lips. 

“Fuck, you feel so much better than her.” He continued to grunt, his teeth gritting. She pulled at the graying roots of his hair, her palms cradling his face. With a sharp yell, Tom finished inside her. His hips rocked against her until he had spilled everything out inside her. Their panting filled the air between them and synced into a rhythm. 

“That was fucking amazing, Tom.” She whispered, her voice weak over her racing heart. 

“Kiss me,” Tom growled. She raised her head slightly to place a kiss on his chapped lips. They kissed sweetly, until a steady beeping noise drew them away from their bodies. The elevator’s panel lit up as it was restarted. They hurriedly separated. Tom tucked in his shirt and buttoned his pants. She pulled her underwear back on and smoothed down her hair. Seconds later, the elevator doors opened to a team of mechanics. The mechanics raised their eyebrows collectively at the couple inside, their faces flushed and sweaty handprints still visible on the elevator’s walls. 

“Thank you so much,” she tried to smile normally at the men as they stumbled out of the elevator. Tom gave the mechanics one more backwards glance before they hurried for the stairwell. Slamming the door closed behind them, Tom shoved her up against the wall inside the stairwell. The sound reverberated up the cement structure, ringing in her ears. He kissed her neck, sucking parts of her flesh to make small hickeys. She sighed as she pulled his face to meet her again and kissed him, her lips pulled into a smile.

“We should do this again,” Tom mumbled darkly against her lips. She nodded and bit his bottom lip gently. 

“How about right now?”   

[userlando]

✧･ﾟ 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥

steve murphy x female!reader summary ⤍ work is piling on, bogotá is suffering from a heatwave and all you want is steve murphy. warnings ⤍ 18+ (mdni), co-workers to lovers, explicit language & smut, public sex, unprotected sex (piv) a/n ⤍ surprise surprise, of course i'd circle back to steve murphy some day. hope i made it justice. prob won't be the last i write of him since this was a lot of fun, so hope you enjoy this one lovies <3

It was brain meltingly hot in the office today, perspiration on your forehead and bra uncomfortably pinching your torso, to the point where it was almost antagonising you. It had been hot the moment you got out of bed this morning, and it hadn’t gotten any better throughout the day even though you’d opted to stay back in the office and work on the mountain of stacked papers that only seemed to grow by the hour on your desk.

You’d think that the heatwave would settle when people had begun to filter out, emptying the office space little by little. But the sun was still shining tauntingly through the windows and the floor fans were doing their best to keep up.

You glared at said fans, watching them spin round and round with the occasional squeal. A sigh escaped your lips as you leaned back against your chair, ignoring the discomfort of your shirt sticking to your back and reaching out for the nearest folder you could use to fan yourself with. The people in the office could really use an extra two swipes of deodorant and cut back on the cigarettes. The odours were starting to settle in your nose in the most unpleasant way and you didn’t know how much longer you could stand it.

It was clear that you weren’t going to get much work done anymore, but you’d be damned if you stepped foot outside the building with the sun still beating down on the city of Bogotá and you had a feeling that your apartment wasn’t much better than… this. It had too many large windows with afternoon sun.

Your freezer contained ice lollies though, something you’d craved all day. And your apartment offered you the liberty of wearing a long tank top with no pants and no bra. But it didn’t have Steve Murphy.

Steve Murphy, who was sitting across from you with his back leaned against his chair in a similar position to yours. He was reading from a folder, eyebrows tightly knit the way they always got when he was concentrating and you took a moment to silently admire the arch of his nose and the inviting pink of his lips. His hair had been styled halfheartedly in the morning, but it was now sticking up from running his fingers through it and the strand were clumped up together from the sweat and moisture in the air. Nobody made sweating look as good as Steve did. It should’ve pissed you off but it was a sight for sore eyes.

Your thoughts stuttered to a halt when he stuck a chewed up pen in his mouth and bit into it, looking a little annoyed all of a sudden and you knew he’d finally given up on making sense of the endless amount of scripts and documents you’d spent the last three days pouring through. Carrillo was truly a closeted sadist for assigning you so much work to go through in such little time.

There was a small clearing of a throat from the side and you glanced to the left, feeling like a kid who’d gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Javier wasn’t looking at you, but there was a small smile playing on his lips that let you know that he’d definitely caught you ogling the blond man sitting in front of you. You reached your leg out and kicked him in the shin, earning a startled yelp from him and a questioning glance from Steve.

“Sorry,” you said with no remorse in your voice. “Muscle spasm.”

Javier narrowed his eyes at you like he could see right through your bullshit, flicking a stack of papers on his desk before picking some new ones up to read through. You could’ve bet a few bucks that he wasn’t reading through them as intently as he had been two hours ago. His mind had already checked out for the day, as had yours. You couldn’t blame him.

The three of you worked in moderate silence and the occasional annoyed grunt and comment thrown into the air, for the next hour. The sun was finally starting to set, casting shadows in the moderately empty office but you were getting more agitated by the second.

The heat was getting to you and fucking Steve couldn’t stop chewing his lip and touching his neck.

It all took you back to that one godforsaken night a few weeks ago. You’d gone out with the two of them for a drink, and Javier had wandered off at some point; Mumbling something about getting laid. And he’d subsequently left the two of you alone at the bar with more drinks in your systems than necessary and sexual tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

You’d sworn to never involve work and pleasure when you transferred to Colombia to work on catching the drug lord, and yet you’d found yourself pressed up against a wall in the far back of the bar and your tongue shoved down your partners throat. The taste of whiskey on his tongue had been intoxicating, everything about him had been irresistible. But it had been a one time thing, that’s where you set your boundary and Steve had respected it in his own way. He hadn’t tried anything with you, but there had been the occasional eye contact and suggestive comment. You’d be a filthy liar if you said you didn’t enjoy it just a tiny bit.

You must’ve started fidgeting in your chair because you caught Steve glancing up, not picking his head up from where it was slumped. The sight of him looking at you through his lashes made something in your stomach squirm.

“What?” You mouthed, biting the inside of your lip when his lips transformed into a smirk. It was like he could read your thoughts in your eyes. “Fucker.”

His smile got wider somehow, and he quickly managed to tamper it down when Javier suddenly sighed loudly. You both turned your gazed toward him, just in time to watch how he stood up from his chair and picked up a few folders.

“Need to make copies.” He explained, as if one of you had asked him. Javier didn’t need your permission though, nonchalantly grabbing his blazer and walking out of the room and you had a feeling that was the last you’d see of him for tonight.

You glanced back at Steve to catch him already staring at you, and you tried to not feel so self-conscious about the way your hair was probably a damp mess and your face sweaty. It looked good on Steve, but you couldn’t pull it off like he did.

“You done with that?” He asked, like you hadn’t been having a staring contest and you gave him a questioning arch of the eyebrows until he clarified by nodding at a folder by your arm.

“Have at it.” You sighed, handing it over to him before standing up from your chair.

It scraped against the floor and you glanced around to see if you’d disturbed anyone with the obnoxious sound. Aside from a few officers on the other side of the room, it was completely empty. And that made something redhot run through your blood.

You walked over to the water tank to fill your mug up with water cold enough to give you a brain freeze, thinking about maybe taking off and going home. Javier had once again left you alone with Murphy, and the heat was melting the last of your common sense.

There had been one close call where Carrillo had paired you and Steve together for a stakeout; monitoring a warehouse on the outskirts for any signs of drug transportations, but you’d smoothly gotten out of it and had Peña jump in instead. There was no telling what would happen if they put you and Steve in a car during the night with nothing but the two of you to keep each other company.

It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t been friends before the bar incident, it was quite the opposite. Being a woman in this field was tough, but Steve had - along with Javi - welcomed you like his own surprisingly quickly.

There were only so many times you could carpool and watch a shitty movie cuddled up on the couch before you started treading over dangerous water. A phone call home didn’t bring you the same comfort as greasy food on the couch after a long day of chasing ghosts and criminals. It was easy to feel homesick when alone, so it was a good thing that you had your partners a few doors down if you ever needed them.

“It’s way too fucking hot to work.” Steve complained and you gave a laugh with a nod. He flicked the papers onto the desk and leaned all the way back on his chair and you took that as a sign that he - much like you - was done with work.

You rounded the corner of the desk and tried not stare too hard at his arms when he reached up to rest his hands on the back of his head. His biceps were bulging a little too invitingly, and you had to shake yourself as you perched on the edge of his desk. There was no mistaking his wandering gaze as he slowly looked up your legs, to your upper body until he reached your eyes and you raised your eyebrows to show him that you’d caught him looking.

He didn’t seem too embarrassed though, judging by the slow smile forming on his face.

“Might be time to call it for tonight.” You said, glancing around the half-empty office. “Not like we’re gonna make any more progress than we’ve done today.”

Steve made a sound in his throat like he agreed with your sentiment, happily accepting the mug of water when you handed it to him. You watched him take a sip, throat bobbing as he swallowed and you suddenly felt a little too hot under your clothes.

“D’you wanna head over to mine? Grab a beer and just kick back.” He asked, glancing up at you and you nodded slowly.

“Sure.” You watched him stand up, shuffling papers and folders around in a poor attempt to organise his desk before giving up and reaching for a packet of cigarettes. He stuck one between his teeth and lit it up. “Do you think Javi will be back?”

Steve looked at you with an are you serious? look, and you tried not to think about how hot he looked with a cigarette hanging from between his lips. Cocky looked so good on him.

“You’re lucky if you see him any more today.” He replied, grabbing his jacket and pushing in his chair.

You made a sound of agreement and walked around the desk, picking your bag up and showing a few folders inside it before the both of you were set to go home.

It couldn’t have been in your head, the tension in the air as the both of you walked out of the office. It felt like you were barely hanging onto a thread and it seemed to grow even thinner when the blond man touched your waist as he let you pass by him first through a doorway.

The two of you locked eyes for a split second and that confirmed everything that you needed to know. And that’s what you used as an excuse as your eyes flickered back and forth until you found a door that you knew lead to a documentation room, not hesitating for a split second as you reached your hand back and blindly grabbed Steve’s hand in yours.

He let you lead him way too easily, your hand shaking a little as you turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. And that’s when Steve took over, putting more of his body weight on your back to help you get into the room faster. You didn’t think of how unethical it was, or how it was such a bad idea to hook up once again with your partner at your workplace, of all places.

You didn’t even think of how absolutely stifling it was in the small room, too focused on the way Steve was staring you down like a predator eyeing it’s prey. He closed the door and turned the lock without taking his eyes off of you, and it was dark but not dark enough for you to miss the smirk playing on his lips as he walked you backwards.

You reached your hands out to grab at his disheveled tie, yanking hard enough for a breath to escape his lips before you settled your mouth over his in a heated kiss. There was a loud bang as he placed a hand flat against the metal drawers by your head to keep himself from stumbling into you, a moan creeping its way up his throat and you revelled in the taste of his tongue.

It was warm inside, suffocating really, but you needed more. You needed him closer and on you. He didn’t have any problems with complying when you snuck an arm around his torso and had the other one grab at his hair, turning your head slightly so he could lick deeper into your mouth.

You could taste the coffee he’d been sipping on a few hours ago and smell his aftershave that transported you back to that night at the bar where you’d been in a position just like this. He slid his mouth down your cheek, jaw and pressed sucking kisses and licks against the side of your throat. It was hard to stay still when the sharpness of his moustache hairs pricked and scratched your sensitive flesh.

“Fuck, always smell so good, baby.” He was panting, and so were you.

There was no doubt that he could feel your heart beating in your throat, right under his lips where he was definitely sucking a mark that wasn’t gonna fade within the next week. It should’ve made you furious, because that meant scarves and long collars in this unbearable weather but it only made you keen and pull him in closer. The thought of him marking you up for your co-workers to see, for Javier to give off that infuriatingly smug grin and for Steve to proudly parade around; Knowing he did that.

You were a proud woman, having worked your ass off to get where you were today and you’d be damned if you were to be seen as someone other than their own person. But something about fooling around with Steve; Breaking the obvious unspoken rule that wasn’t really a rule. Not really. Rules were hardly a thing to follow within these walls if they weren’t reinforced by the colonel himself.

“Steve, you better fuck me now or I’ll scream.” You tried to sound threatening, but your voice sounded too breathy and it only made Steve laugh like he knew he had you right where he wanted you.

“So needy,” he whispered, pulling his head up to look at you and you reached forward to steal a kiss from his lips that he was all too happy to give. Hearing and feeling him sigh happily against you made your stomach feel like it was bottoming out, all the feelings you’d been trying to hold in, spilling out.

He brought his hands to the front of your torso, squeezing at the swell of your tits over your shirt and sliding his hands down your quivering stomach until he got to the button of your jeans, letting out a noise of frustration. You watched him unbutton your jeans with a smile, taking your chance to grab at his messy hair and tilt his head to the side so you could kiss the delicate skin of his neck.

You didn’t see it, but you could feel his hands falter where they were struggling to unbutton your jeans, his head throwing back for a few seconds like he was trying to catch his breath and collect his thoughts. You could’ve taken mercy on him and help him get you out of your pants, but it was a little too enjoyable for you to kiss and nibble at his throat and earlobe. You’d only hooked up twice now, but it didn’t take a genius to find his sweet spot seeing as it was right beneath his ear.

“Couldn’t have worn a damn skirt.” You heard him mutter as he crouched and you grinned.

“Not very —“

“Practical. Yeah, I know. So you’ve said.” You couldn’t see his eyes, but you could hear the eye roll in his voice and it made you smile even harder. Steve could be an asshole, but you’d be damned liar if you said that he wasn’t a good listener.

He finally pulled back and yanked your jeans down your legs, crouching down to help you out of them, one leg at a time. You ran your fingers through his hair and almost recoiled when he glanced up at you from his crouched position; Caught off-guard by the softness in them. The blue of his eyes made something fierce squeeze in your chest and you let out a small whimper when he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss between your legs, over your panties.

You watched him kiss his way up, and it felt like coming home when he finally reached your lips and pried then open with his own. There was no doubt that the man could kiss, and you loved every second of it.

It made you jump a little when he pulled your panties to the side, the pads of his fingers swiping through the mess that he’d created. He let out a shuddered breath against your lips and rocked back just far enough to look at you without the both of you going crosseyed.

“I don’t have a condom on me.” He murmured, and if you’d looked hard enough then you would’ve seen remorse in the blue of his eyes.

You tried to collect your thoughts but it was difficult when his fingers were circling your clit. Your hands grabbed at his shirt, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you ripped a hole in it.

“I’m on the pill,” you said, feeling your cheeks heat up a little as his eyebrows climbed on his forehead. “And I’m clean. I trust you.”

He searched your eyes for a moment, and it would’ve almost been tender if it wasn’t for the fact that he got two fingers up your cunt and was fucking into you like he was testing out how wet you were.

It felt like an eternity when he finally nodded, offering you a small smile and a quick kiss.

“I’m clean too.” He pushed his fingers deep, making you gasp and buck into him. “And there hasn’t been anyone else after you. Or even before you.”

The implication was there, and you revelled in his confession because those had been thoughts that had been plaguing you for a hot moment. Javi had his line of women to call and you didn’t know if that was the case for Steve. You spent a lot of time together outside of work, but there were still gaps in time where he could’ve hooked up with whomever he pleased. This job was hard and it put a whole lot of pressure on your shoulders, so much so that the average person would cave from it. It was only normal to seek basic human intimacy and lose yourself in it, even if it was only for a night or an hour.

It made your belly turn a little sour whenever you thought of it, you just didn’t want to admit it out loud because that would somehow make it seem real. Make your feelings for him real. You weren’t sure what that meant.

Crossing the line with your partner a second time went against everything you’d believed in. You never wanted to get involved with anyone like this because your work was dangerous enough, add a person you cared for into the mix and it made it even more terrifying.

“Hey, you with me?” Steve’s gentle voice brought you back from your inner turmoil and you blinked at him, giving him a nod.

“Yeah, I’m here.” You replied, giving him a small smile when his lips turned up in reassurance. “Come on, I’m ready. Fuck me please, Steve.”

Steve groaned like he’d never heard anything sweeter, pulling his fingers out and bringing them up between you. He didn’t even hesitate to slip his digits inside his mouth to clean them off and you felt your entire body heat up at the crude sight. It reminded you of all the nights where you’d go out to grab a bite after work and he’d be licking his fingers clean from frying oil and grease. You’d found it a turn on then, and it certainly was a turn on now.

“You’re an asshole.” You giggled at the filthy smile playing on his lips, getting your hands on his trousers and unbuttoning them.

You glanced between the two of you and stuck your hand inside his underwear to fish him out, heartbeat picking up at the weight and warmth of him in your hands. You could hear him breathing against the side of your head, pressing his lips against your temple and making a piss poor attempt of stifling his moan when you got a good grip on him and slid your hand to the base.

“Feel so good in my hand, Steve.” You hummed, closing your eyes and marvelling in the press of his body when his hand started giving out to the weight. He was moaning quietly into your ear, voice rough and raspy as you jacked him off. “Can’t wait to feel it inside of me.”

He hummed out a drawn out groan, bending a little at the knees to get a good grip on your right thigh and hauling it up over his hip. The new angle allowed him to nudge against you and you gasped, leaning into it.

You were too busy looking between the two of you, and you didn’t register his other hand sliding up to cup your cheek until you were staring right into his eyes in the darkness. He was observing you, you realised. The moment felt a little too intimate to have in a decrepit room after office hours, but you didn’t dare to look away from his gaze.

His thumb ran over the bottom of your lip. “You okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile, nodding your head to show him that yeah, of course you’re okay.

“I’m more than okay. Now, come on before the janitor makes his rounds.” You urged him, earning a startled laugh from the man.

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded, gripping himself and leaning a little more of his weight against you so he could notch right against your hole.

Your eyes fluttered closed when he pressed in, feeling him filling you up quicker than you expected but there was something about the burn that made you want more. So you didn’t protest, only gripping his shoulders tighter until he bottomed out.

Steve was watching your face the entire time, eyes struggling to stay open because fuck, the heat and the tightness of you gripping him made him feel like he’d died and entered the pearly gates of whatever heaven existed. The small hitches in your breathing was like music to him, and he longed for the day he could get you in his bed and fuck you properly until he had you moaning without the fear of being caught.

You were a loud one, that’s what he’d garnered from the one occasion you’d hooked up. But you were still holding back and he could tell by the way you gnawed at your lips and bit incomplete circles into his shoulders that did fuck all to silence your pretty sounds.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” He murmured in encouragement when he started thrusting, hips meeting yours in the awkward angle but he knew he was hitting something good and deep inside of you. It was written all over your face. “Clenchin’ up so nicely around me. What a pretty sight you are.”

“Steve.” You moaned, treading your fingers in the strands of his damp hair and bringing his mouth to yours in a sloppy kiss.

It was all teeth and tongue, noses bumping and teeth knocking but it made you weak in the knees all the same. You indulged yourself for a few moments, letting yourself get lost in his taste and touch before breaking the kiss, leaning your forehead against his and watching him through blurry eyes as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Seeing Steve lost in the feeling, hips working against yours and arms grabbing at you to keep you steady and hold you close was a marvel to see. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get tired of the little pinched expression on his face when something felt particularly good for him; How his mouth would drop open into a little O and his eyebrows would draw together. Kind of like how they did when he’d sit across from you at your desks while he struggled to read Spanish.

Your stomach was knotting up, the telltale sign of your end nearing and you let go of his shoulder with one hand to shove it between your bodies and hook your hand into your panties.

The touch of your fingers against your clit made you clench, which made Steve’s thrust stutter and his breath get punched out of him.

“Keep going,” he encouraged you, nodding his head and jostling your head in the process form where it was leaned against his. “Touch yourself for me, wanna feel you come.”

It was cliché, and ridiculous how fast you neared the edge of oblivion at the whispered words he was speaking against your mouth. They sounded so demanding, breathless and absolutely filthy.

There was a second of desperation where the two of you clung to each other, his hips bruising yours and his hands no doubt leaving marks as he pulled you tight to his body. Your hand cramped up and you had just enough time to lean toward his shoulder and bite down before you were sent over the edge with a muffled shout.

You heard a distinct guttural moan, and you couldn’t tell if it was coming from you or Steve thanks to the sound of the blood rushing in your ears. But you could absolutely feel how he buried himself inside of you and let himself go, your already sensitive body shaking where it was slumped against his.

There was no telling who was holding up who, but you suspected that he was doing the brunt of the work because you couldn’t feel your fucking legs and your mouth was still open against his shoulder. You picked your head up when your senses slowly started seeking back into your body, making a sound in your throat when you realised that you’d been drooling.

Steve tilted his head to the side at the noise, gaze following yours and he let out an exhausted laugh.

“Is it weird if I find that hot?” He asked, voice hoarse and low and you laughed.

“Shut up,” you winced as he slowly let your leg back down on the grimy floor, slipping out of you in the process. “Oh, gross.”

Steve snorted, cupping a hand against your cheek and pressing a kiss against the side of your head. You bit back a smile at the tender gesture, busying yourself with adjusting your underwear so you didn’t have to look at him.

He didn’t say anything as the both of you got cleaned up as best you could, redressing yourselves and you didn’t want to chance a glance at him just yet. You didn’t know what you’d find written on his face; whatever emotion or expression it would hold. You weren’t quite ready to face it just yet.

You watched his back as he walked up to the door, eyebrows raising in amusement when he cracked the door open and peeked outside into the hallway. He must’ve deemed it clear, because he slid it open and stepped to the side, reaching a hand out to gesture you to get a move on.

You didn’t waste any time to slip back outside again, the hallway feeling much cooler than the stifling confines of the documentation room. There was nothing you craved more than a shower at that moment, feeling sticky all over. And the fact that you were absolutely ruining what was left to salvage of your underwear.

“Are we still on for that beer?” Steve asked, distracting you from your wandering thoughts and you glanced at him from the corner of your eye.

His hair was looking worse for wear, cheeks flushed and lips bitten raw and pink. There was no way that anyone could take a look at you and not think that you’d been screwing each others brains out. You almost feared looking in a mirror, afraid of what you’d find in terms of marks and scratches.

“I hope you have some at your place because all I have is milk.” You replied, earning a small shoulder bump from the man next to you.

“I’ve got you.” He opened the door leading the way out to the street. “Besides, I’ve got better fans in my apartment.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Yours was only days away from falling apart into pieces. You just hoped that yours wouldn’t break down tonight when this heatwave was still active and raging. You’d actually cry.

Steve unlocked his door and opened the passenger door for you, regarding you with a look in his eyes that made you stop in your tracks.

“What?”

“Would you wanna stay over tonight?” He asked, forehead wrinkling and your eyebrows raised.

He looked almost nervous. Uncertain. Like he didn’t know whether you were going to blow him off or take him up on his offer. It made you pause as you searched his face, and you didn’t know why you suddenly felt an overwhelming rush of adoration but it made your knees shake a little.

“You mean sleep in your bed?” You asked, voice lilting into a teasing tone and it made Steve smirk.

You watched him tilt his head back and forth, as if he was unsure but the smile on his lips was playful and it made you feel a little giddy.

“Amongst other things.” He replied and you laughed.

“Scandalous.”

Steve narrowed his eyes, tongue in cheek as he struggled to refrain from smiling too big. You turned and started to climb into his truck, the sound of a loud smack making you let out a loud yelp. You didn’t even register the slight pain in your asscheeks until you’d turned fully and sat down on the seat; Realising that he’d just slapped you.

“You’re a sleaze, y’know that?” You glared at him, but Steve only grinned like he was proud of himself.

He pushed the door open even wider and crowded your space, sliding his hands up your cheeks to cup them and bring your face to his. You blinked up at him, a little breathless at the sight of his blue eyes so close up to yours.

“You still like me, don’t you?” He murmured, corner of his lips tugging and you couldn’t help but press a kiss against it; Watching it transform into a smile.

“Just a little.” You lied, earning a longer kiss from him.

“I’ll take that.”

[feral4daryl]

yes i'm sharing more of AI daryl/norman bc we all need this!!

and no i wont ever stop tying him up bc ummm why the hell not??? ik im horny im sorry but i mean, can you blame me?? ughhhhh he's just too hot for his own good. i can't decide if i want him on top or under me 😫😫😫😫 maybe there will be a day when i stop simping for daryl but it wont be today so i might as well just embrace my horniness

once again, these pics are ALL made with an ai image generator and they are NOT real!!

[intoanotherworld23]

Fighting Fire With Fire

Pairing: Female reader x Javier Pena x Steve Murphy

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY DNI, holy moly this whole thing needs to have a bible thrown at it major smut and sex, use of handcuffs, bondage, oral male and female receiving, p in v, unprotected sex, p in a, threesome, mild spanking, swear words, overstimulation

Summary: Wanting to give them a taste of their own medicine you have the bright idea to ignore Javier and Steve all day, but it ends with you getting punished

Check out my other works on my Hall Of Hunks

As soon as you saw the black Audi pull up the driveway your stomach dropped. You knew you were in serious trouble, but also for a world of absolute pleasure. Utter excitement coursing through your body at what they were going to do with you.

You had been ignoring Javier and Steve all day, and it was all on purpose. It was hard to do, but you stayed motivated in your plan.

They had been ignorning you all week, and you just wanted to give them a taste of their own medicine. Granted it was work things, but still you felt they still should make time for you.

Granted it wasn't their fault cause they were busy with interviews for their movie, but you still wanted to feel wanted. Ignoring their texts and calls. They clearly didn't appreciate it based on the tone of the messages.

Javier: sweetheart you know we don't like being ignored.

Steve: darling answer your phone. You know we are very busy

Steve: don't make us come home Javier is getting very worried

Steve: this is your last warning sweetheart.

Their words had you feeling all giddy inside knowing you were getting to them. You were fighting fire with fire, but weren't prepared for how big the flames were about to get. You were just desperate to feel their touches.

They were very protective of you so when you decided to not respond it worried them. Taking your safety seriously, so they grabbed their things, and started heading to you no questions asked.

People still didn't understand your relationship with the two movie stars. Everywhere you three went people looked at you, and clear judgement on their faces. Doing your best to ignore them, and remembering that both men loved you.

The door being barged open and seeing Javier’s and Steve’s stern yet lustful gazes had you feeling nervous. A part of you was starting to rethink why you acted the way you did. Javier was the first one to step forward.

"You've been very naughty sweetheart." Javier growled as he crossed his arms across his chest.

Steve stood behind him as his eyes raked up and down your body. His once light eyes now darkened with lust. You were wearing just a shirt barely covering your butt and some lace panties.

"Ignoring us like that isn't very nice. You know what has to happen now." Steve spoke up as he walked forward as well even closer then Javier.

"I'm sorry." You whispered and they just both smirked at you.

Steve was the sympathetic and caring when it came to punishment. Not wanting to push you past your limit. Constantly watching your body language to make sure he wasn’t hurting you.

Whereas Javier was more dominant and loved to punish you and hear you beg. If you didn’t end up shaking with pleasure with tears coming down your cheeks then he wasn’t done.

They were different but they even each other out so they didn't break you completely. Plus the aftercare made it all worth it.

"You're gonna be sorry baby." Both men had these dark looks in their eyes, and it almost scared you. You were definitely turned on more though.

You felt like a helpless animal being cornered by two ravenous beasts. Looking at both of them waiting for them to make their move. Steve and Javier looked to each other before they moved.

Next thing you know Javier and Steve are on you. Javier grabbing your hands and pinning them above your head. Steve went into the drawer, and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Before you could even protest he had them clasped around your wrists.

Tugging on the cuffs thinking for some reason you could slip out of them. They just chuckled at your weak attempt of getting yourself out of this. Your panties were soaked at this point and it wouldn't take long for them to figure it out.

"What should we do with her first?" Javier looked over at Steve and they just looked at your figure lying there awaiting your punishment.

"I think we need to get a taste of that pussy first." His words had your thighs clenching together.

They knew you loved being eaten out, but this wasn't going to be for your pleasure. It was all for them, and they weren't going to give you what you wanted.

Both men grabbed an ankle and peppered your thighs with sloppy kisses. Looking down watching as their mouth inched closer to your drenched panties. Your breathing had increased as they reached the hem of your panties.

Their lingering kisses had your legs trembling with need. Each leg was being showered with sensual kisses and touches having you mewl like a cat in heat. You probably looked so desperate, but right now you didn't care.

"These need to go." Javier grabbed the sides and pulled them down your legs tossing them to the side.

"She's already soaked." Steve noted looking between your legs your arousal already leaking out of your folds.

The cold breeze hitting your pussy making you whimper. They both went back to kissing around your core, but not kissing where you wanted them to. It was frustrating you but you didn’t want to push it, and then not give you what you want.

They wanted to hear you beg for it. It was all a game to them, and you had to play along with them. You finally snapped when their lips touched just right beside your folds.

"God please. Please Javi. Please Stevie eat my pussy please I'm begging you." You howled tossing your head to the side feeling your cheeks heating up already.

"Did you hear that Javi? Did that sound like begging to you?" Steve’s tone was mocking and Javier just chuckled as they looked up at your writhing body.

"Nope I think our baby girl can do better than that." Javier smirked when he heard your little whimpers.

Between their kisses and sensual touches up and down your legs you felt yourself going crazy. Tugging against the cuffs the cold metal pressing harshly against your skin.

"Fuck please I want both of your tongues on my pussy I want it so badly please. Fuck me with your tongues." You whined bucking your hips upwards hoping they got the hint and would show some mercy.

Without another word Steve pulled your pussy lips apart getting easier access. Licking his lips ready to just devour you whole. Your clit was throbbing being so exposed.

Javier was thrusting his tongue inside you while Steve gave your clit kitten licks. Your mouth hung up as you watched them eat your pussy like starved men. It was the hottest thing you could ever witness, and it was almost hard to believe it was happening to you.

"Oh fuck that feels so good." Biting your lower lip between your teeth and throwing your head back against the pillow.

Javier could feel your walls clenching around his tongue, and decided to add a finger. Steve taking the hint as he sucked your little bundle of nerves hard making you scream out. Your whimpers and moans getting louder.

"Tastes so sweet." Javier mumbled against your folds the vibrations making your back arch off the bed.

Both of their mouths felt so warm against your pussy, your body was melting into the mattress. You didn't know who you wanted more.

Javier was slurping your pussy his hand coming down across your stomach to keep you down. Licking up and down your folds, his beard scratching along your skin. Being so lost in your own pleasure you couldn't tell whose tongue was whose.

"Keep going." You said as your ground your hips against their greedy mouths.

Feeling yourself getting closer to the edge. Pulling against the cuffs desperate to touch them and grip onto their heads.

Just as you felt your orgasm about to hit you it was taken away just as fast. Opening your eyes in confusion you saw them get off the bed. You were so frustrated your pussy was actually starting to ache really badly.

"Bad girls don't get to cum so easily." Javier’s stern tone told you he really wasn't happy with you.

Both men shred their clothing right before your eyes. Their hard cocks slapping against their stomach, and your mouth watered at the sight.

Hands slowly stroking themselves as their eyes looked hungrily in between your legs. Your pussy glistening in the light making them lick their lips.

Wanting nothing more than to wrap your fingers around them. They knew exactly what they were doing, and definitely wanted you to suffer.

"Mouth or cunt?" Scrunching your eyebrows in confusion until you realized that Javier was talking to Steve.

"I want that smart ass little mouth of hers." He walked over to the side of the bed where your head was you were watching his every move.

Javier got on his knees on the bed and gripped your ankles placing your legs in the air. Without any warning he plunged himself deep inside you making you gasp. Steve took that as an opportunity to push his cock inside your mouth.

"Fucking hell always so tight for our cocks." Javier groaned as he wasted no time thrusting in and out of you.

"Such a good girl for us. Always taking us so well." Steve moaned as he pet your head watching your lips moving up and down his shaft.

"This is in the way." Javier gripped your shirt before ripping it straight down the middle. Exposing your breasts to their hungry gazes.

Your breasts bouncing with every thrust. Javier and Steve didn't waste another second before they each grabbed a breast. Pinching your nipples until they were hard buds under their fingertips.

Your skin slapping against Javier’s pelvis echoing around the room, had your entire body on fire. You just wanted nothing more than to feel and touch their skin.

"Such a cock hungry little whore for us. Always so eager for us." Javier’s words had a shiver running up your spine.

Javier and his filthy words could have you wet within seconds. Javier loved dirty talk and he knew you loved it even more. He found it amusing how such simple words or phrases could have you soaked, and begging him for more.

Moving your tongue up and down Steve’s cock bobbing your head up and down. He was lightly thrusting his hips into your mouth so you could take more of him. Gagging around him a little bit of saliva running down your chin.

You didn't know whose cock you wanted to focus on more. The pounding from Javier had your legs shaking, and your back sweating. You wondered if they were going to let you cum this time or continue their torture.

Your pussy squeezing Javier’s cock as you tried adjusting around him. His grip tightening on your ankles as he kept your legs spread for him. Hitting a deeper angle inside of you. Your moans vibrating on Sebastian making him groan.

"Fuck do that again." Javier then snapped his hips sharply making you squeal around Steve’s cock causing him to growl his cock twitching in your mouth.

They were using you like their own little plaything, and you absolutely loved it. Only they could do this to you, and you had no complaints what so ever.

Javier was thrusting into you roughly making your whole body move the bed rocking back and forth. Which was good for Steve cause it was moving your head making your mouth take more of his cock.

The harder Javier fucked you the more you moaned around Steve. You so badly want to turn your head away so you could watch Javier sliding in and out of you. You always liked to watch as the entered you it turned you on tremendously.

Your pussy was completely soaked making it so much easier for Javier to slam in and out of you. Your juices coating Javier’s cock making him groan at how wet you were the sounds echoing across the room.

"I'm gonna cum." Looking up you saw Sebastian with his head thrown back and eyes closed in pure ecstasy.

You sucked him even harder egging him closer to release wanting to swallow every drop of him. Basking in the triumph that you could make either of them feel this way.

"Make him cum like the good girl you are. Make him cum down your throat and I want you to swallow all of him." Javier commanded you as his thrusts were becoming sloppier and slower.

Taking Steve all the way down your throat you felt him twitching in your mouth followed by his warm cum filling your mouth. Doing what you were told your swallowed all of his release while still slowly licking his cock up and down.

"Such a good fucking girl to us."

“You look so fucking good like this cariño.”

He looked down at you lovingly stroking the cheek while Javier continued to fuck you feeling his own release hitting him. Your pussy squeezing him like a vice, and your orgasm once again coming as well.

Javier let your legs fall beside him as his hand gripped your breasts as he squirted his seed inside of you. Both men groaning above you their foreheads covered in sweat.

Once again your release was ripped from you, and it was really starting to hurt you this time. Being so close, and they were denying you of your orgasm as punishment. Judging by their faces they weren’t done with you yet.

"Please I'm sorry I won't ignore you guys again please I just want to cum so badly." You cried out hoping they would finally give in and end this punishment.

Laying their wiggiling your hips in frustration not having been able to cum. Whining loudly your pussy clenching around air both them having been satisfied but not you.

Your noises getting both their attention. Javier leaning over you uncuffing one hand making you think this torture was over. The ache between your legs even more so than it was before.

"Turn her ass over." Javier turned towards Steve who grinned and was more than happy to flip you on your stomach.

Your pussy was so raw right now you didn't know if you were going to be able to take one of their cocks anymore. You were begging for sweet release, but you were so sensitive already.

The hand that was under your body was then moved back to the headboard to only be cuffed again. Groaning in frustration wiggiling your hips making both men growl at your movements. A hand coming down on your ass hard making you squeal.

"Ass or cunt?" This time Steve asked Javier although you knew what he was going to choose

Your pussy clenching around nothing again but just at the thought of them both being inside you. No matter how many times you took them both it was such a thrilling experience, and mind blowing.

"I want that sweet ass of hers." Javier swatted your ass hard a gasp leaving your lips as you felt the sting.

You felt hands lift your hips up so your ass was in the air. Steve maneuvered his way under you aligning his cock right under your once again soaked entrance. Your wrist that was still cuffed was feeling sore.

Slowly pushing himself inside of you making your mouth hang open as you fully lowered yourself down on him. Steve was not as thick as Javier, but he was longer.

"God this pussy is like heaven. Such a tight little cunt." He groaned as he gripped your hips and started thrusting up into you. Your breasts dangling in his face.

Looking into his eyes as he was moving faster, and slamming into your harder. It felt so intimate and passionate. The way his hands moved up and down your back almost in a soothing way. Moving your hips slamming your pussy down on him so you could feel him even deeper.

Just when you were getting comfortable with Steve you fel the bed dip behind you. Javier grabbed your ass cheeks making sure to spread you wide for him. Opening you up for him even more stretching you as wide as you could handle.

Hearing Javier open a bottle squirting the cold liquid onto your asshole, and feeling him spread some on your ass.

"Shhh sweetheart we're gonna take good care of you." Steve whispered soothingly into your ear.

Both men could feel your muscles tensing under their touches. The difficult was about to happen, and they wanted to make sure you were as comfortable as possible.

“That’s it cariño just relax.” Pumping his cock as his other hand rubbed your puckered asshole in a soothing manner.

Your nerves were all over the place as he placed the tip of his cock at your backside. Steve could senses how nervous you were, and lifted his head up so his mouth could latch onto a nipple. Moaning even louder your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Pushing his cock inch by inch until he was all the way inside of your ass. Javier was squeezing your ass he let you adjust around him. Closing his eyes to concentrate on not cumming already.

Breathing harshly in and out of your nose as you being were filled to the brim. Your mouth biting down on your outstretched arm almost breaking skin with how intense this feeling was.

"Her ass is almost just as tight as her pussy." Javier groaned as he was slowly pushing in and out of you.

"Such a good girl taking our cocks so well. She was made for us." Steve moaned beneath you his lips moved to your neck sucking on the skin surely leaving a mark.

When Javier was pushing in Steve was pulling out, and vice versa. You were completely stuffed and you were loving it. No words were able to leave your mouth only noises. Javier continued to spit absolute filth to you. Your pussy would clench around Steve making him groan.

Once Javier felt you were okay both men nodded to each other before picking up their thrusts. Javier snapping his pelvis against you, while Steve was thrusting up into you. Lifting your body up and down to meet their powerful cocks.

"Holy fuck oh my god. Your cocks feel so good." You cried out loving the feeling of having them both inside of you.

"You just love our cocks don't you sweetheart." Javier spoke with gritted teeth as he looked down watching as your asshole swallowed his cock.

Both men groaning and grunting as they were fucking your body into oblivion. Your hands gripped the rails as you felt the cuff really digging into your skin, but you didn't care. Pushing past the pain, and feeling only the pleasure.

Your entire body was spent and you didn't know how much more you could take. Just letting them do whatever they needed to do hoping you’d get to feel that orgasm.

"I bet she won't ignore us again huh?" Steve joked making Javier grin behind you to look at the other smirking boy before he turned his attention back to your ass.

"Say it." Javier said smacking your ass sharply the sting more intense.

They weren't letting up with their movements making it almost impossible for you to talk right now, but they wanted your words.

"Say it." Javier spoke louder his hand coming down on your ass even harder.

"I won't ignore you guys again. Please I'm sorry please keep going." You begged and whined not even caring how pathetic you looked.

You were being filled wholly and completely, and you could feel Steve all the way up in your stomach. Not being able to understand how you were always able to take them so deeply. Never getting used to the feeling of them both inside you at the same time.

Feeling the pit of you stomach burning you knew you were getting closer. Your whole body was on fire, and your legs were tingling. Just praying and hoping they would let you cum this time. There was no way you would be able to take another round of not getting release.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum in that tight little cunt of yours." His thrusts were getting rougher along with Javier.

Your entire body being sandwiched between the two ravenous men. All three of you covered in sweat rubbing against each other. Their body hair scratching against your skin pricking you.

"Shit me too. Gonna cum in your ass sweetheart. Fill you up." Javier snarled as he smacked your ass a couple of times making both your holes squeeze around them.

Your toes were curling and you closed your eyes as you finally felt your climax hitting you hard. Crying out into Steve’s chest as your juices coated his cock. Breathing heavily as your entire body was trembling, and your arms shaking.

Hearing your whimpers and feeling your body slump forward, Javier was the first to cum along with Steve. Feeling their release fill you up had you clenching around them again.

Javier slowly pulled out of your raw asshole making you hiss. Steve was next and you knew you were going to be so sore the next day. It was absolutely amazing, and you would gladly do that all over again.

"God fucking damn. Holy fuck that was amazing sweetheart." You didn't know who spoke but all you knew was that you were tired.

Quickly uncuffing you your arm fell limp as they laid your body down softly. Your wrist was so sore and throbbing, but your mind was so drowsy you really didn’t mind it all that much.

Both of them getting into bed, and you had one of them on either side of you. Snuggling into your body wanting to make you were looked after. They were both a little worried they may have pushed you a little too much.

“You okay cariño?” Javier was the first one to speak.

Unable to find your words your mouth was so dry you couldn’t say anything. All you could do was just slowly nod your head up and down in response.

Their hands rubbing your body sensually and adoringly. They both peppered your sweaty and warm skin with light kisses. They were being so gentle with you it made you smile. This was the part that you loved the most out of everything how tender they could be with you.

"Our girl did so good for us."

"Sweetheart we weren't too rough with you were we?" Once again nodding your head to them.

"Good. Now get some rest sweetheart, we aren't done with you yet." You felt both men grinning at you before your eyes snapped wide open.

——————————————

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989 @sullyosully

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @marchai @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise @kittenlittle24

[babyflorencee]

Florence's Masterlist of hot guys

I'd love to hear any requests that you may have for these five actors and the character that they portray!! 💋♥️

Gilbert Blythe

𓇼Jealousy

Dylan O’brien

𓇼Raindrop Romance and Puppy Dog Eyes

𓇼 My Flannel

𓇼Ignored ignorance

𓇼I love you

𓇼Fuck it

Timothée Chalamet 

𓇼Only one bed

𓇼Worries and apologies 

𓇼Books, pillow talks, and an attention-craving boy

𓇼Sleepy

𓇼You're stuck with me

𓇼Hair tie

𓇼Stop taking your hands out of mine

𓇼Cigarettes

Cillian Murphy 

𓇼Haunted house

Andrew Garfield 

𓇼Do I make you nervous?

𓇼P.s I love you

[biancabaes]

" Wipe the blood off your face and put on the fookin ring "

[floralcyanide]

𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧 - 𝐂𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐲

Cillian Murphy x AFAB!Reader (NSFW)

Your husband decided to grow out his beard for a little while. You take full advantage of this.

warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), squirting, fingering, cum eating, beard burn

word count: 1523

author’s note: NOT PROOFREAD this is just a drabble idea I came up with and had to get out before working on WIPs lol. I fucking love beard burn and imagining it with Cillian does something to me especially when his beard isn't super long,,, anyway pls enjoy (: feedback is appreciated.

main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

Cillian usually kept his face clean-shaven every day, and it suited him. But when he decided to grow his beard out just to see how it looked, it was a daily test for you to not attack him like you were a predator and he was the prey. When it finally reached a respectable appearance and length, you couldn’t help but run your hands over it and your fingers through it. The beard was a ginger color despite his fawn-colored hair, but you found it endearing. You also found it incredibly sexy. It wasn’t too long, and he kept it trimmed into a neat style. Sometimes, you’d daydream about how it’d feel against the skin of your thighs. It had been a while since Cillian had gone down on you, which you didn’t mind. Nowadays, you both don’t have much time for intimacy, but when you do, it’s immediately down to business.

One morning, Cillian is getting out of the shower, and you’re lounging on the bed. You have already taken your shower, so you’re flipping through a book you’ve been reading. You watch as your husband prepares to shave his neck where the stubble has grown noticeable. Getting up from the bed, you walk to the bathroom, where Cillian stands at the sink. Watching as he delicately shaves himself, you wrap your arms around his torso, careful not to undo the towel around his waist. 

“Time for a little maintenance, hmm?” you rest your head on his shoulder, watching his movements through the mirror.

“Yep,” he says, leaning his head up to get underneath his chin.

“I think it looks sexy,” you run your hands along Cillian’s stomach and chest, feeling him vibrate as he chuckles.

“I know you do,” he glances at you in the reflection, “You can’t keep your hands out of it.”

You comb your fingers through his damp hair, “So what? I can’t admire my handsome husband?”

Cillian laughs through his nose, finishing shaving. He shakes his head as he rinses off the razor in the sink filled with water, “Didn’t say that, love.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I can tell by how you look at me that you love it,” Cillian smirks.

“Is that so?” you hum, “You won’t do anything about it.” you pull away from him and teasingly cross your arms.

Cillian drains the sink, resting his weight on his hands on either side of it, “Get on the bed.”

“What?”

“I said for you to get on the bed, sweetheart. Don’t make me repeat myself,” Cillian says, a playful warning look on his face.

You do as told, jumping onto the bed and laying against the pillows, legs crossed over one another and your hands intertwined across your stomach. You patiently wait for Cillian to come to the bed, watching him drop his towel before stepping into a pair of underwear. For a moment, you wish he’d just drop the towel and leave it at that. He climbs onto the bed, crawling over you and sitting beside your legs. Cillian places his hands on your thighs, running his palms up and down the skin there before pushing them apart. Cillian pulls down your lounge shorts, revealing this morning’s choice of underwear. A lacy pair of black ones that leave only a little to the imagination. Cillian traces the patterns in the lace on your mound, avoiding touching you directly. Your hand reaches down and lovingly pets Cillian’s hair as his eyes meet yours. He sneaks his fingers underneath the lace and pulls them down your legs, discarding them as he repositions himself back between them.

“Spread them further for me, babe,” Cillian says, and you obey, letting your legs open wide.

Cillian’s eyes darken as he stares at your glistening pussy, all exposed and ready for him to devour. He delicately runs his thumb over your clit, pushing your hood up and back from it to fully expose it. You moan quietly at the feeling, and Cillian uses his other hand to open your lips even further before circling your clit with his tongue slowly. You can feel his beard tickling the sensitive skin of your thighs, much like how you figured it’d feel in your daydreams. Your cunt is spread as open as it can go, your legs unable to clamp around Cillian’s head. He ensures you can’t move your legs at all, hooking his arms around your upper thighs with his total weight on them. Cillian begins to lap at the fully exposed bundle of nerves, swirling and flicking his tongue against it. You feel yourself getting impossibly wet at the stimulation and the roughness of Cillian’s beard that is able to reach your inner thighs. He becomes more vigorous, shaking his head and moving it around as he licks, his facial hair scrubbing your skin. 

“Feels so good,” you manage to whimper, your fingers curled firmly in your husband’s hair.

Cillian hums, the vibrations hitting your clit perfectly as he sucks it into his mouth. He lets his teeth graze it as he releases it from his lips, letting his tongue slip downward toward your weeping entrance. Cillian starts to lap at the gathered arousal, letting his tongue fuck into you. If you could move your hips, you would. But the way he is pressing his weight onto your thighs keeps you from being able to move much. Cillian’s eyes meet yours again, and you let his darkened irises bore into yours as he tongues at your spongy walls. He moves a hand out from around your thigh, shifting your leg onto his shoulder as he lightly pinches your bundle of nerves between his fingers. You cry out, wishing you could grind against his face. 

“Cill,” you gasp as he rolls your clit between his fingers, “Please.”

He raises his eyebrows at you, not letting his tongue leave your cunt.

“I wanna ride your face,” you beg, pushing his other arm off from around your thigh. 

Cillian then grabs your other leg and places it on his shoulder, sitting up as he motions for you to slide him a pillow. He puts it under your back, letting your pelvis tilt upward at a different angle. Cillian digs his fingers into your thighs, his beard now flush against them as he runs his tongue up your slit and around your clit again. He shakes his head as he flattens his tongue against you, his spit mingling with your endless arousal. The mixture is coating his facial hair, causing it to spread along your inner thighs. The delicious burn of his hair scraping against you turns you on even more as you move your body up and down on Cillian’s tongue. He reaches a hand out to prod at your entrance, letting two fingers easily slip inside you. You let out a high-pitched moan at the stretch, your hips stuttering as you grind on Cillian’s face and fingers. 

“So good for me,” Cillian mutters, pulling away from you to focus on fucking you with his fingers, “Thighs all red from my beard. Is this what you wanted?”

You nod, wordlessly slamming yourself on Cillian’s fingers as he adds a third, letting them thrust into you simultaneously. You couldn’t focus on forming words as the growing warmth in your belly outweighed every other sense. Cillian bites harshly at your thighs, where redness is already showing. The sound of your arousal and Cillian’s spit squelching around his fingers fills the room with his quiet pants and your wanton moans. He watches as your cunt leaks onto the sheets, and he adds a fourth finger, fucking you with his hand without any signs of stopping. You cry out, fucking yourself onto Cillian’s hand as hard as you can, your orgasm creeping up on you. He sucks your clit between his lips, harshly suctioning the bud and flicking his tongue against its tip. Cillian curls all four of his fingers inside you against your g spot, causing you to quickly unravel. You let out a guttural moan, feeling yourself gush around his fingers and onto his face. You look down at Cillian, who isn’t letting up on his thrusts, repeatedly brushing his fingertips along your spot inside, making your body quiver as another squirting orgasm comes over you. He graciously laps up your arousal, his beard and perfect lips glistening. 

“God,” you gasp, letting your body relax into the bed as Cillian pulls his hand out of you, his mouth still attached to your soaked pussy, licking up everything he can.

“I should eat you out with this beard all the time if you’re gonna cum like that,” Cillian sucks off his fingers.

You grab his wrist, stopping him before he can entirely clean off his fingers and take them into your mouth. The taste of yourself and Cillian’s saliva coats your tongue as your eyes meet his. Cillian groans, the bulge in his underwear becoming more painful at the sight of you tasting your own squirt.

“Don’t think we’re done,” you chuckle as you nibble at Cillian’s fingers, “It’s your turn to lay down now.”

taglist:

@baizzhu @aporiasposts @hjmalmed @queenshelby @amanda08319 @naty-1001 @orijanko @raineeace @nela-cutie @cutexlr @flwrs4aust @langdons-slut @shynovelist @sstar-ggirl @trixie23 @cillsmurphs @ldklollord @thecherrycocktail @dunklerkeks1611 @hllywdwhre @cillianbabe @ecstaticforus @faelvz @ceruleanrainblues @yongi-lee @juuuvis @Keigoshousewife @jakeotters @slut4thebroken @mypoisonedvine @burnyouwithacigarettelighter @cranesbathtowel @arieslost @nefhertari @forgottenpeakywriter @llucky-llove @october-atoner @madlittlecriminal @ynisthatyou @starbxnny @darkmoviesquotespizza @newtsniffles @lovelybucky1 @vintagepuss

[shelby-fangirl00]

Empty Spaces-Part one

Warnings: (MINORS DNI, 18+), age gap, cheating, language, mutual masterbation

Im super excited to make a second part for this one. Please let me know what you think! Its means the world to me to see you guys comment and reblog my work! Enjoy!

Word count: 3055

—-

‘I refuse to let you make me as miserable as you are! Are you even fucking listening to me?!’

The muffled argument between Thomas and his wife became clearer and clearer as you made your way up the winding staircase. You knew that at any moment, one of them would come storming out, but you were admittedly interested in the family you worked for, especially Thomas Shelby. 

Thomas and his wife were constantly bickering at each other like this, it was nothing new. You stared up into the hallway, seeing the glow of their shared bedroom from underneath the door, shadows pacing back and forth rapidly. 

‘For Christ’s sake, then fucking leave!’ his loud demand carried through the hallway, like you were the one being scolded. 

You scurried down the staircase as you heard the door creak open. Before seeing who left the room first, you were already half way down the stairs. 

                                              

‘They’re at it again today. It’s only morning too. That’s a new record!’ Francis whispered from behind you in the kitchen as you were cleaning up after breakfast. 

You turned to give her a hushed giggle. This was a bit of a running joke at the Arrow House between some of the maids.  Everyone who worked here knew all about Mr. and Mrs. Shelby’s arguments. They seemed almost constant for the past few weeks. 

‘Yeh, it’s not stopping anytime soon, I bet, either. I’ll even bet ya it’ll start back up tonight too.’ 

‘Well, that’s not very fair betting, is it dear?’ She smiled in your direction before coming up beside you, helping you dry the wet dishes off. 

‘Francis…what is it that they’re always fighting about anyways?’ You asked reluctantly, still feeling curious of the mysterious and very handsome man you were working for. 

Without looking up from her working hands, she sighed out, furrowing her brows in frustration of the exhausting situation. 

‘Well, from what I can tell…Mr. Shelby is gone quite often, late in the night. And when he is here…well I suppose he tends to…neglect Mrs. Shelby…if ya know what I mean.’ She whispered again.

You tried to hold back a grin. 

‘So, he’s not fucking his wife?’ You blurted out, without thinking. 

Frances hit you playfully on the arm, pressing her finger to her lips to shush you. She couldn’t help but giggle along with you. You held your hands up in defense, stopping yourself from saying any more.

Just then, you both heard the front door shut. Almost as if she had been caught, Francis jumped up, startled. 

‘Would you mind getting his coat, dear?’ 

You gulped harshly and reluctantly sat down the damp dish towel to scurry towards the door. 

Thomas and you had only spoken a few times briefly, when you were first hired. Mostly, you took orders from Francis and Mrs. Shelby. 

‘Good morning, Mr. Shelby.’ You said softly, avoiding his eyes. 

He said nothing as he shrugged his heavy coat off. You took it from him before asking if there was anything he needed, still avoiding his eyes. 

‘That’s the most you’ve said to me since you’ve been here.’ He chuckled under his breath, making your face turn red in embarrassment.

You peered up at him, surprised that he even acknowledged your presence. He was staring back at you, waiting for a reply. 

‘Sorry about that, I’m a bit shy I suppose.’ You laughed softly, looking back down at the embroidered carpet that you both stood on.

‘Shy, eh? I wouldn’t have been able to tell. Not by the way you were talking with Francis.’ He said plainly, placing his hands in his pockets, standing a bit more defensively in your direction. You could’ve sworn his eyes dropped to your chest.  

You stared up, completely dumbfounded. Embarrassment and shame washed over you. You immediately recalled the specific comment you had just made about him not fucking his wife. You felt like crawling into your bed and hiding in the sheets forever. 

How did he hear that? Was he listening in on us secretly? Why was he listening to us?  You thought. 

‘Mr. Shelby I am so sorry. I-I didn’t think you were home and I-

It’s alright, love, doesn’t bother me. My wife on the other hand…I wouldn’t let her catch you talking like that. She’s under the impression that you are a well-behaved girl.’

Girl. 

The way he used the word to describe you was disappointing. You were newly 22 and Mr. Shelby was much, much older than you were, doubling you in age. You were just a girl to him. You secretly wished he didn’t think of you as a child. 

He began to walk towards his office, but the words practically pushed their way out of your mouth before you could think. 

‘Who said I wasn’t a well-behaved girl?’ You asked him, making him stop abruptly, obviously surprised that the help was questioning him. 

He spun around, with a devious grin on his face before he, more obviously this time, dropped his eyes to the curve of your body, letting his pretty blue eyes linger a little longer than expected. Your breath hitched as goosebumps covered your thighs. 

‘You’ve been working in my house for two months now. I know all about the people I choose to work for me. You come from a nice catholic family, right outside of Small Heath. You’ve got an older brother who died at the Somme. Parents still live close by. So don’t think that I haven’t had you figured out.’ He laughed, tilting his head slightly.

So many thoughts swirled around your mind. What the fuck did that mean? Had he been watching me? Did he know about my eavesdropping? He actually knew who you were? Was my attraction and curiosity towards him obvious? What else did he know about me?

Before you could even respond, he turned on his heels and strutted back to this office, obviously satisfied with the flustered state he had left you in.

                                        ----

‘Dear, Mrs. Shelby is leaving for a few weeks to visit family. I need you to help her pack her bags and bring them out to the front room to be loaded in the cars. Make sure she has enough for a month, just in case. 

She was leaving? And maybe for an entire month? This house was going to feel strange without all of the yelling between the two of them. Would Mr. Shelby even be around? Maybe he would be around more.

                                   -----

Over the next week, Mr. Shelby did in fact, spend more time in his home with his wife gone. It seemed eerily quiet though. He was always tucked away in his office. You both exchanged glances when you would pass by him in one way or another. You tried to hide your nervousness around him. 

One night in particular, your nerves were through the roof as Francis told you that Mr. Shelby asked for you in his office. You couldn’t think of why on earth he would want to meet with you, especially this late in the evening, when you were almost off for the night. Was he going to fire you?

You knocked twice lightly on the high doors of his office. 

‘Come in.’ You heard his voice boom through the door. 

With shaky hands, you reached for the handle of the door and pressed down, opening it to the dimly lit room. 

‘You asked for me, sir?’ You practically whispered, not daring to step a foot further into the room. 

‘Shut the door.’ He said lowly, not looking up from whatever he was scribbling down at his desk. Once he was done, he threw his glasses off his face and onto the papers in front of him, standing up. 

‘You drink whiskey?’ He said, walking over to the cart of liquor by his desk. 

‘Uhm…if you’re offering, thank you.’ You said as he was already walking towards you with a glass in hand. 

He extended his hand to give it to you. He watched your eyes as you took the glass and smiled softly. 

You threw back your glass, handing it back to him instinctively. He raised an eyebrow at you and chuckled, a bit surprised by your eagerness. 

‘Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Shelby?’ You said a little more clearly now, the liquid courage creeping through you. 

He studied your face, studied your actual voice without the shyness masking you. You studied him back too, examining his broad shoulders and chest through his button down. 

‘I saw you listening in on me and my wife’s conversation the other night. I came out of the room to see you running down the stairs. I guess I’m just curious as to why you’re so curious.’ He said plainly as he handed you another glass. 

Your stomach dropped as you had been caught. You sank back the drink again, before answering.

‘I-I’m sorry sir, I had no right.’ You whispered, looking down at the floor. 

‘I’ve also seen the way you watch me, like you’re curious about me, too. Are you?’ He asked. 

‘I…I suppose I am, yes.’ You couldn’t stop yourself now.

He closed the space between you both, standing chest to chest. 

‘How old are you?’ He breathed out, lust dripping from his voice. He pushed the hair from your face behind your ear. 

’22.’

He held back a low groan, searching your face.

‘So, what are you curious about? Don’t be shy…I’ll know if you’re lying.’ He sternly said, making your back straighten. 

You were curious about everything. Growing up in Small Heath, you had always known of The Peaky Blinders and the infamous Tommy Shelby (before he became this fancy politician).

But you knew nothing of who he really was. But the question that burned deep down inside of you was the one of his marriage. 

‘Is it true…about you and Mrs. Shelby?’ You let the words fall out, there was no turning back now.

He chuckled lightly, seemingly knowing you would ask.

‘My wife and I haven’t been together in a very long time.’ Confirming your deepest suspicions, he knew exactly what you were asking.

‘Why not?’

His eyes bored through you as he was deep in thought.

‘That is a question that couldn’t be answered in a night.’ Obviously not wanting to talk about it anymore. 

You stood in silence for quite some time. 

‘I think it’s my turn for you to answer a question.’ 

You swallowed harshly, as you decided to pass him to pour yourself a third drink before he asked. He giggled at your nervousness. 

‘Are you a virgin?’ His voice raised in question, hands stuck behind his back. 

You nearly choked on your drink as he asked this. You coughed out as you set down the glass. 

No, you weren’t a virgin, technically. You’d been with one boy back home before and it was disappointing, to say the least. You had never told anyone about it though, nobody had ever asked. 

‘Is that what you think?’ You said sarcastically. 

‘A bit, yeh.’ He smiled shyly.

‘No, I’m not. Some boy from back home said all the right things one night, I suppose.’ You looked down, immediately embarrassed by your honesty.

‘So only once before?’ 

‘Yes.’

‘Hm.’

                                    -------

You excused yourself from the conversation shortly after, practically running to your designated room upstairs. You quickly closed the door behind you, plopping face first into your pillows. He knew exactly what he was doing to you and it was working. He had you so worked up that you had to excuse yourself. You stopped yourself from confessing everything you wanted him to do to you. You thought about his voice, the sinful things he could whisper to you. The image plastered in your head of him undressing you and relieving the built-up tension between your legs. 

You involuntarily let your legs fall open, hiking up your small black dress. 

Your hands fell between your legs as you imagined his beautiful face in the darkness of your room. You moaned out softly as your fingers frantically rubbed the swollen nub that rested above your folds. Your fingers were soaked wet as you collected the slick coming from your tight hole. 

Getting lost in the heat of your thoughts, you pulled the top of your dress down to expose your hardened nipples, squeezing them harshly, drawing a whimper from your mouth. You wished your own hands were Tommy’s.

From the other side of the hall, Tommy walked by your bedroom door, stopping as he heard muffled sounds coming from of the other side. In a childlike way, he pushed his ear up to your door, hearing more clearly the types of moans you were releasing from inside, making it obvious to him what you were doing on the other side of the door.  

He smiled slightly, knowing that he was the reason behind this. His cock hardened from beneath his pants as he listened to you moan out. 

Too lost in your own thoughts and chasing your orgasm, you hadn’t noticed your door creaking open and shut as Tommy had entered the darkness of your room. 

He watched you in your most vulnerable state, palming himself through the fabric of his own pants. Your panting quickened as you became closer to the edge. Your right hand rubbed your clit frantically, legs fully spread open, while your other hand squeezed and pulled at you exposed nipple. 

‘Oh fuck…Thomas please….’ You quietly cried out to yourself, not realizing the one you called out for was standing right in front of you. 

‘Yes?’ Said a low voice from in front of you. 

Your eyes shot open as you jumped up, clenching your legs together and gasping loudly, you frantically covered yourself up. 

‘What the fuck are you doing here?!’ You yelled out, face flushed with embarrassment.

‘Please don’t stop on my account.’ He giggled, coming closer to the bed, you could see his face more clearly now. 

The liquor from earlier became warm in your stomach again as your body filled with excitement. 

‘W-What?’

He stood above you, without saying a word. He slowly unzipped his own pants, slowly releasing his hard cock from his pants. Your mouth fell open in surprise at the length of him. You couldn’t even fathom what was happening. 

‘I said…don’t stop.’ His voice dripped with lust as his eyes searched yours before they fell between your legs, signaling you to open them again. 

Without thinking and caught up in the fuzzy feeling in your head, your legs slowly fell open, exposing your glistening center to him. He groaned in satisfaction as his cock twitched in excitement. 

He came up beside you and held out his open hand in front of your mouth. You looked up at him in confusion. 

‘Spit.’ His thick accent sent a shiver through your spine as he commanded you. 

 You looked up innocently at him as you spit into his large hand. As you did, he licked his lips. ‘Good girl. Now keep rubbing that little pussy for me, ok?’ He said softly from above me. 

You shook your head yes as your hands fell back to your clit as he brought his wet hand down to stroke his own cock, watching the movements you made between your legs.

You looked up at him longingly as he stroked up and down his cock, his head falling to his shoulder to get a better view of you. 

 ‘That’s it Love, just like that.’ He panted out roughly, shooting sudden shocks of pleasure through you.

Feeling more confident from his encouragement, you sat up, pulling your dress above your head, now completely naked. He panted softly as you did. You scooted to the side, spreading your legs open again right in front of him, allowing him to marvel at every inch of your body. 

‘Such a pretty little cunt, all soaking wet for me…’ He sighed as his strokes became more rapid. His knees hit the side of your bed as he loomed over your naked body, your knees rested against his tight stomach. 

Your walls clenched onto nothing, longing for him to fill you up. 

You reached down with your other hand to slowly stick two fingers into your pussy. You pumped them in and out with ease as you continued to work at your clit. You were so close to your release.

‘Fuck Tommy…I’m so close.’ You moaned out, squeezing your eyes shut in pleasure, focusing on that feeling. 

‘I am too…wait for me love. I’ll tell you when to come.’ He instructed, using his other strong hand to grip your warm thigh. 

The contact set your body on fire. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold on. 

‘Shit, Tommy…. Please let me come, please…’ You whimpered as you watched his strokes become sloppy, the tendons in his forearms and biceps flexed as he started to come undone. 

‘I’m gonna come all over you. Come all over this needy cunt of yours, yeh?’ He panted.

Your walls clenched down and your back arched up as you came hard around your fingers. Your insides filled with a warmness that you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

Just as you did so, Tommy came all over you, ropes of his hot liquid splattered across your heated mound and your bare tummy. He marveled at the sight of himself covering you in his release. His mouth hung open and his eyes never left your body. 

You sat up on your elbows, watching as he did so. 

His hand reach down to collect some of the mess onto his large finger, bringing it to your mouth. You sucked and tongued at his finger, making him groan again and his cock twitch once more before softening. 

‘You did such a good job for me.’ He whispered into your ear and he leant down to kiss your exposed neck, sending a shiver through you again. He pecked at your skin lightly before pulling away. 

He adjusted himself into his pants plainly as you laid there, still naked and covered in cum. You were too stunned to move.

He smiled down at you, studying your eyes and the state he had left you in once more before reaching for your door knob. 

‘I’ll see you in the morning, love.’ He exclaimed with a wink before shutting the door behind him. 

[wastingmylifesecondatatime]

UPDATE: 04.06.2024

NOTE: You can find other masterlists in  my mother masterlist

I have updated the following masterlists:

Criminal Minds Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Peaky Blinders Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Peaky Blinders Masterlist - Series

Cillian Murphy and his Characters Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Golden Trio Era (Slytherin) - One Shots/Drabbles

Genshin Impact Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

[lvncm]

The Way You Look at Me (Behind Closed Doors) Drives Me Crazy ꩜

f!reader x johnathan breech

teasing, fighting for dominance, semi-public sex, enemies to lovers

2.6k words

Summary:

You and Johnathan hate each other. You love to hate each other. You love to try and prove who hates each other more. Now you have to try and prove how much you hate each other while you’re alone. In a closet. With seven minutes.

Johnathan Breech was the party type. In fact, he never missed one. Especially when Toby planned events outside of the institution. Despite this, he still found himself sitting in the stolen car he was using as it idled across the street of the large house party. He grazed a cigarette across his lips before holding it between them, delicately. 

“Fuck,” He breathed out as his hands patted his empty pockets in search of a lighter. He rolled his eyes, as if to snark at the nonexistent force that was pushing him to go inside. Johnathan tucked the unlit cigarette behind his ear and threw himself out of the van, not pausing before forcing himself to stride in. 

People he recognized, and also a few he didn’t, greeted him as he made his way up the front yard. He tried to avoid interaction when it wasn’t who he wanted. Dull, colored LED lights flashed faintly through the house as he wandered, still not seeing the face he was searching for. As he made it to the kitchen, he scooped up a drink inside a solo cup - which might have been used already - as if that bothered him. After taking a few drinks he began to feel the tingle, and put his unlit cigarette back in his mouth. 

It dangled there as he walked through nearly the entire house, chatting briefly with a few friends before entering the backyard through the sliding door. An adequately sized pool took up the majority of the yard, aside from the large patio. People were swimming, and a few couples were making out in the adjacent hot tub. He looked away, flushed. 

Johnathan started to contemplate leaving early, until he heard a lighter flicker on behind him.

“Did you need a light? Or were you planning on walking around like that for the entire night?” Your sultry voice sounded over his shoulder, and he turned almost too quickly to hide his intrigue. 

Without replying, Johnathan smirked sarcastically and leaned forward, pursing his lips to push the cigarette forward. You lifted a brow, and held your hand out and around the end of the cig, holding the flame to it. Johnathan took a swift puff and brought the cigarette down between his fingers.

He didn’t bother to turn away as the smoke seeped through his lips, a sharp exhale through his nose sending the smoke into your face. “Your face isn’t one I was expecting, sweetheart.” Johnathan finally said as a way of greeting. He was lying, though, as if your face wasn’t the one he looked for with every head that turned. As if it wasn’t there when he closed his eyes, alone, doing things himself that he wished were being done by you instead. As if he didn’t imagine your face underneath him, as if -

“Flustered?”

Johnathan blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“You got lost there for a second. Face is red.” You took the cigarette from between Johnathan’s fingers, your touch lingering for a moment longer than normal. You took a long inhale. “I get that reaction a lot.” Smoke blew from your smile after you spoke, burning Johnathan’s eyes. 

Johnathan’s nostrils flared, and he pulled his mouth into a one-sided grin. “Nah,” He drawls, taking the cigarette back from you. “Just looking at Rachel over there.” The smoke burned idly between his lips as he put a hand up to rub his neck. “The sweat on her chest,” He said, faintly, his gaze slowly following yours as you turned to look at Rachel. The jealousy that filled your expression made Johnathan’s blood roar. 

Johnathan tapped the cig to his side. “Come on.” Taunting words shot at you. “You’ve never looked at Rachel and thought about things?”

“You’re into Rachel?” You turned back, seeming to have shuddered down your previous rage driven jealousy. “Aren’t you afraid she’ll cut you?” Your tone was innocent, but Johnathan saw the way you stood. The way your neck was left open to him, how you subconsciously leaned towards him.

Johnathan loved it. 

“If she can make me cum,” The widened eyes that looked back at Johnathan sent a chill down his spine, goosebumps prickling over his body. “Then why not?” He held eye contact as he blew smoke from his nose. 

Satisfaction spread through Johnathan as he watched you struggle to respond. “I suppose so.” You managed, rubbing a thumb against your bottom lip. Johnathan wanted to bite at it. 

Their eye-fucking was cut short as the party’s host, Toby, walked up to the pair. “Hey, you two,” His voice was sweet, but Johnathan couldn’t help but be disappointed at your crossfire being ended. “I’m getting some closer friends to come downstairs. We’re playing seven minutes in heaven.” Toby’s pointer finger pressed against his smiling lips in a hush-hush manner as he hurried back inside - but not before walking up to Rachel, undoubtedly inviting her to the same event.

 Suddenly, Johnathan wasn’t so disappointed. 

⚚

The group was moderately sized, maybe fourteen of them, and Johnathan made sure to split from you to sit across from you. So he could look you in the eye, so he could make sure you knew he was thinking about you in that closet. 

Which he was. The total darkness, aside a faint glow from beneath the door. The way you’d only be able to see the highlights of one another’s faces. The crampedness of the space, how he could be so close and have you against that wall. It was probably small enough to force one another’s knees between the other’s. He’d rub against your knees. Or the other way around. Johnathan could see you being whiny like that. 

After a final person walked down the stairs, Toby clasped his hands together, and turned to grab an empty Guinness can. The large circle of participants didn’t quite fill the large basement, but there were a few non-players on the sectional, observing. One of them was Rachel. 

“Okay, I’ll just spin the can this first time.” Toby began, kneeling down in one of the gaps between people. “So I’ll spin twice, the two people it lands on will go in the closet. Bottle cap side. Seven minutes. Got it?” Scattered confirmations went about, and Johnathan caught you staring. Johnathan winked. 

Toby’s hair fell off his ear as he leaned forward, centering the can in the middle of the half par circle. He gave it a strong spin, its speed slowing after several seconds. It slowed. It neared Johnathan. He hadn’t expected to be first, but nonetheless the bottle stopped completely; nozzle staring down his middle. A few people “oohed” as Toby laughed and reached for the can again. Then, to Johnathan’s surprise, and to your utter fury, Rachel got up from the couch and squished herself into the circle. 

Johnathan didn’t actually want to get off with Rachel, as much as you thought he did. But, Johnathan could get off on your jealousy alone. He had to concentrate on not displaying it, actually. 

And the look on your face. 

God, Johnathan loved it. 

Your stare on Rachel, then the slow turn to Johnathan that followed made his mouth water. The can began spinning, and he started getting excited.

Then it slowed, slipping slightly on the carpet. It got closer to Rachel, everyone’s neck arching as they awaited the final answer. Rachel had joined the circle simply for her chance with Johnathan, but alas, the can paid that fact no mind as it swept past Rachel.

It settled on you. 

Johnathan bit down his tongue to stop himself from smiling. His mind was already running rampant, and he shifted to stop an erection from forming. You looked the same way.

Toby cackled, clapping twice before standing and walking over to the closet door. Likely because he had feelings for Rachel. There was enough room for you two to kneel and face each other, just as Johnathan had guessed. A blanket and a few pillows were scattered in the small room. “I tried to make it comfy,” Toby laughed, a snort coming out. “In case someone accidentally takes longer than seven minutes.” 

The pair stood in front of the doorway, and Johnathan could feel heat emanating from the shorter. “Go on!” Toby urged.

Johnathan placed a guiding hand on your lower back. “Yes,” He purred. “Go on.” The group laughed at Johnathan’s bedroom tone, but you didn’t look back nor respond as you slipped in. Johnathan followed close behind. 

Then the door was shut, and it was just your breath mingling and the faint light from under the door. Johnathan could smell the cigarette you’d shared in your combined breath, and he could smell the anxiety from you both as well. He’d been cocky out there, but now that you were alone . . . so close. 

“Did you really think I’d fuck Rachel?” Johnathan blurted, breaking the silence. 

You leaned closer, your noses centimeters apart. “I was thinking a lot about you fucking, Johnathan.” You leaned to the side, so your mouth was just by Johnathan’s ear, and you bit it gently. Johnathan gasped in, almost in a wince, and he gripped your wrist. 

Then he lowered it. 

To the hem of his shirt, then lazily, your nails grazing his skin beneath, lower. You had come back to face him, your eyes holding each other’s in a lustful stare. He pulled your hand further, to the waist of his jeans. Slightly further - then he pressed down. 

Both of your demeanors were undone by the first moan that Johnathan slipped out. The sarcasm Johnathan had been using to maintain dominance left quickly, and Johnathan dropped his head into the crook of your neck as you began rubbing your palm on Johnathan’s hardening groin. 

You unzipped Johnathan’s pants, and with your free hand you held the back of Johnathan’s neck gently. “Oh,” Johnathan whimpered, tingling from his spine up to his nose. “Oh fuck.” He nuzzled into your neck as your hand stroked his length, agonizingly slow. 

Johnathan pulled you into a kiss, a breath leaving his nose as you began to make out roughly. Johnathan’s left hand pulled at the hair on your nape, whilst the other fumbled with the hem of the sweatpants around your waist. It was easy for Johnathan to slip his hand in and feel the slickness that had made a wet spot on your panties. 

Your knees grinded together, and you whined out as Johnathan began rubbing between your folds. You began moving in sync, and Johnathan sat up and pulled you with. Your chests pressed together, and Johnathan pushed your shirt up, freeing a breast. You gasped as his thumb brushed over your nipple, but you didn’t break the kiss.

Johnathan smiles against your mouth, pulling away to breathe. “No bra? Tsk,” he scolds in your ear, one of his fingers sliding inside of you. You breathed a cry as Johnathan began working his fingers inside you, jaw slightly agape as you looked up at him. 

“Fuck, my god.” You huffed out, gripping onto Johnathan’s shoulder with your free hand. 

“What was that?” Jonathan murmured back, attempting to maintain a calm composure, but he was becoming restless as your hand teased his cock. 

You looked into his eyes, brows furrowed. “Fuck,” you got out. “Fuck me. Please.” You whined, grinding against his hand down your pants. 

Jonathan growled with eagerness, and he took his hand out of your pants to shove them down to your knees. “Turn around, baby.” You let go of him to flip around, the tight space forcing your bare chest to press against the wall. You felt Johnathan’s breath on your neck, then his hand pushing your underwear aside. “You’re so fucking wet for me.” He says quietly, his hand sliding over your cunt and pressing down on your clit. 

You moan breathlessly, grinding back against his hand. He used his other hand to take his cock and press the head gently against your entrance, sliding it around to get it wet. Then, slowly, he began to press inside you, eliciting a sharp inhale from both of you. He brought his hand to your mouth, shoving two fingers inside to keep you quiet; and for you to taste yourself. 

You sucked on his fingers, and you hummed on them as he bottomed out. His chest pressed against your back, and you felt him nibble your ear. “Shh.” He hushed you gently as he pulled back once, then pushed back into you. You whined, and he pulled his fingers out to press his hand against your mouth entirely. Jonathan thrusted again, quicker this time, and you squeezed your eyes shut as his tip hit your cervix. A moan was muffled into his hand, and he did the same into your ear, softly. He began going faster, breathing heavily onto your neck with his free arm wrapping around your belly and pressing onto your clit.

You clenched around him, and he moaned sharply from the unexpected squeeze. “Fuck, you’re so tight baby,” he said hoarsley, fastening his pace. A tear slid down your cheek as his cock slid incessantly across the soft spot of your core and tapped against your cervix. He felt so fucking good. Your arousal ran down your legs and his length. With his thumb running circles around your clit, you felt your orgasm building in your belly. 

You breathed heavily out of your nose and pried his hand off your mouth, turning slightly to see his face. He was glistening with sweat, and his eyes were closed, mouth open. He opened his eyes to meet yours. “Cum in me, Johnathan.” He whined quietly at the request. “Fill me up baby, and—” 

You’re cut short as he takes both his hands and grabs your waist, his fingers pressed roughly into your skin. He pulled you down to meet every thrust, quickening your pace. He leaned forward and you turned to meet his lips, his tongue sliding around your mouth. 

You could feel his cock twitching inside you, and this was about to push you over. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Johnathan. I’m gonna . . .” You mumbled, reaching your hand back to touch his face.

“Cum baby. Cum on my cock.” He said, slamming into you. You clenched and came on top of him, and the clench sent him over the edge as he pushed himself in entirely. He held onto you and grabbed your breast, and you felt his ropes of cum spreading inside of you. You both gasped out as you rode it out together. He moved in and out a few more times before slowly pulling out, leaving just your heavy breathing. “Fuck.” He sighed. “You feel so damn good, you know that?” He said, turning you back around.

“You too,” you laughed out, and he kissed you, which caught you by surprise. “Johnathan.” You mumbled against his lips in a sort of questioning manner. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” He pulled back and looked down into your eyes. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” 

Your breath mingled as you stared at each other. “Are you . . ?” Your heart hammered in your chest, your cheeks flushing. You never thought Johnathan might like you like this—

“I think I love you. I think I’ve loved you for a while,” he admitted softly, caressing your neck. You slumped into his lap and wrapped your arms around him. 

“I think I’ve loved you too.” You whispered, grinning. Then, a sharp knock rapped on the door. They widened their eyes, smiling.

You quickly composed yourselves and once you were ready, Johnathan opened the door to find nearly twenty people gawking, jaws dropped. 

Toby scoffed amusingly. “Twenty-five minutes, Johnathan. Twenty-five.”

He smiled.

He’d do it all over again.