#never change cill

[hello-god-its-me-sara]

He just *does* this

My mom: it’s cuz he’s so short

[cillians-sweetheart]

https://www.tumblr.com/cillians-sweetheart/772157725448847360/whos-got-fic-ideas-i-got-writers

Maybe Cills with a younger reader (25-35 ish?) and they actually decided not to have more children but she gets accidentally pregnant? But of angst but ends with fluff? Sorry very basic 😭

Not basic! Love it!! 😋 And I hope you love it too!

A Miracle Arrival - Cillian Murphy

Cillian Murphy(36) x Wife!Reader(25)

Plot: After a date night, Y/N and Cillian put the kids to bed and have some well needed alone time that ends in an unexpected surprise.

Content: kissing, slight sexual content, speak of menstruation, marriage, kids, pregnancy, emotional melt down (f), fluff

During our four years of marriage, people would expect that after a few months, our desires towards each other would just disappear and we wouldn't crave to touch each other day to day. But that wasn’t the case. In a marriage between two heavily passionate lovers meant that our love from our wedding day to today, never changed. Not even fading in the slightest.

Already at age 25, I’ve had 2 beautiful children. The perfect duo of an older daughter (Georgia), and younger son (Christian), ages three and one. Our daughter, now being able to speak full sentences, has begun to develop Cillians accent. But it wasn't surprising as she always took after him, and loved him more than me. And my son is the opposite, a mini me with his looks and attitude.

We decided after having Christian that we were done for children. Having two toddlers was difficult but also I couldn't picture myself going through labour ever again. Two was enough.

On a Friday evening, Cillians mother came by the house to watch the children for a few hours and put them to bed while he and I went out. We learned that monthly dates help keep the spark in our relationship. It wasn’t that we didn’t feel anything towards each other anymore, we just feared that someday that spark would be gone.

“So… I was thinking that after dinner, we would send mom home and just lay low in the bedroom for the night. Yeah?” Cillian offered, holding his glass of wine in his hand. .

“Yes,” I answered, reading through the menu. “I don’t really have the energy for anything fancy. Laying in bed sounds perfect.”

And that’s what we did. At first.

When we got home his mother sat in the living room reading a book, but left shortly after as we were now home. The house was silent and the kids were asleep. We didn’t waste a single moment to finally be lazy after both of our long days.

We changed into comfortable clothes, and cuddled closely beneath the warm duvet. The tv played a show we hadn’t paid attention to and the tension between us grew hotter with each passing moment. And once our single kiss became sloppy and never-ending, the tv came off. As with our clothes.

It all happened so quickly. In just seconds he was above me kissing roughly at my neck, and my legs tightly wrapped around his hips. We didn’t think about anything in the moment, nothing but wanting more from each other's bodies. The pleasure filling both of us made it almost impossible to stay quiet. I had to bite back moans, hiding in his muscular shoulder.

After the hour which felt of 20 minutes, we both fell weak side by side. I didn’t think of anything but just being ready to go to sleep in the arms of the man I loved.

A month went by and life carried on -as usual- I was ‘delightfully’ greeted by an absence of my period. Normally I wouldn’t care, but I’m a week overdue. My heart sank at the possible reason why I was like this. Why I was late, nauseated, and really hungry.

While Cillian was off at work I stopped by the drug store and to the aisle I really didn’t want to be in. With rows and rows of pregnancy tests. I looked over my shoulders and quickly scanned over the several options of tests. I picked the cheapest one to not cause suspicion on Cillian and I’s shared credit card. If it had to come to it, I’d say I bought the kids some candy.

I waited anxiously for the remainder of the day. I was terrified to take that test, but also itching to get an answer. If I were pregnant, I’d need to plan what was going to happen, and if I wasn’t I could’ve been rattled for nothing. So I took the test.

I hid myself in Cillian and I’s bathroom while he made supper for the kids. The test shook from my shaky hands as my eyes squeezed shut waiting for it to be done. And after two minutes, I flipped the little plastic stick towards me. two bright red lines.

My mind went blank. I was in shock, and felt nothing. Until a minute after the fear kicked in and I cried and puked the way I did when pregnant with Christian. All those memories of my fat, stretched skin, and agonzing contractions, came back to me like a bullet to the skull. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t afford another child, nor could my body. How would I ever tell Cillian…

It wasn’t until 5 minutes later I was able to clear my tears. Quickly, I coated my face in concealer to hide the redness to not cause worry to Cillian or our children. I put on an awkward grin and entered the kitchen to where Cillian had been spoon feeding our youngest, and Georgia putting her food everywheres it wasn't supposed to.

“Hey,” He turned his head towards me, standing straight from kneeling on the floor. “You alright?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

“Yeah I just needed to use the bathroom.” I walked past him with a napkin and wiped our daughter's messy face.

Cillian didn’t take any suspicion, and continued to feed Christian and clean the kitchen. He was always so good with them. Like he could hundreds and do perfectly fine. But there was no way I was having a third child. Because it was me that would actually birth them, not him.

After supper with the kids tucked into bed, Cillian and I sat closely on the couch in the living room watching the Tv. My legs laid over his lap and my head rested against his shoulder. His gentle hand lightly stroked my thigh. I began to remember all those feelings from earlier. The fear, the angst, the pain. Tightness grew in my chest and my face turned cold. I was frozen in my spot. Tears welding in my eyes.

My breath being held and my slight shaking caught Cillian’s attention from the Tv. Taking the remote in his hand, he turned the Tv off and turned his face down to mine.”Y/N? Baby.” He took my cheek in his hand and turned me to look at him. “What’s going on?” His voice held concern but tenderness. His thumb lightly rubbing my cheek.

“I um…” I froze up, looking down with a single tear falling from my right eye. I debated in my head with other answers besides the truth to tell him. I dreaded telling him such a thing.

“What love?” His face leaned down closer to mine with sympathy in his eyes.

“I- I’m pregnant.” My eyes fell down to my lap with shame. It became silent for a moment. An unbreakable tension grew heavy between us.

“Are you- Really?” I nodded with another tear rolling down my cheek. “Oh sweetheart.” Cillian pulled me into his chest, holding me while I broke down into the same emotional state I was when pregnant with Georgia and Christian.

Cillian lightly rubbed my belly while his other hand stroked my back.

“I don't know what to do.” I sniffled and choked on my tears. “I can’t do this… I’m already a crap mom, I- I can't have another one!” I said with irritation mostly towards myself.

“No you’re not love.” Cillian cooed, kissing the top of my head.

“But,” I mumbled. “You do so much for them… while I hide in the bathroom.”

He took my face in my hands looking seriously into my eyes. “A real mother is one who is not afraid to have her own space.”

I looked back at Cillian with adoration and nodded at his words. “I just… my body can’t go through this again.”

“Is it your body, or your mind?”

“I don’t even know anymore…”

“Well, I want you to do whatever it is that feels right. Okay?”

“Mhm,” I nodded. “But if I did somehow want to have another… would you mind?” My watery eyes glared up to his.

“Not at all love, I love our children and would love just as many more.” He grinned the same grin that made me fall in love with him for the first time. I felt the warmth and tenderness in his voice. “Do you want another?”

“Well I don’t want to get rid of this one…” I lightly rubbed my lower belly. Cillian’s hand held over top of mine.

“We don’t have to then. I’d be more than happy for another baby.” He kissed my forehead. “If there was anyway they’d turn out like our already beautiful children, then how could I say no.”

I looked up with a warm smile at him. “Oh I love you…” I said lovingly touching his cheek with my hand.

“I love you too my love.”

And nine months later with Cillian at my side, I was handed the most precious baby girl who held my every feature. My twin. She cooed lightly and her eyes twinkled open for the first time in the light. And when those little eyes fully opened, they melted with love seeing my face.

She was so perfect, an angel little girl. And everyday since the day she was born, I thanked Cillian for being the loving husband he is and teaching me to listen to my heart. Because if I hadn’t that day I wouldn’t have had this sweet girl who I later named Mila. My miracle sent from heaven.

[cillianmurphysdimples]

A Female Y/N / Cillian fanfic (Part Seventy Six)

Absolutely not based on anything real at all, all totally fictional, fanciful and is all total bollocks.

Warnings for sexual references and language. Adult themes. Not suitable for under 18s.

We Got Issues

Part Seventy Six: Y/N reminds Cillian of his greatest role, giving him reassurance and space for the conversation he needs to have and the turmoil they're facing. Opening up at home, Cillian breaks his heart over how it felt to bring his first born to feel such a burst of anger and pain, and with how it felt to properly come face to face with the man who tried to ruin him. [Angsty/Family Dynamics/Emotional]

@cherrycilly @aesthetic0cherryblossom @meister95 @vivianleighwishesshewasme @watermeezer @lavender-haze-01 @meadowshelby @strangeions @borntodiemp3

Thank you to @pucktato for your insights again. Such a help!

He's quiet when he returns to the hospital. He doesn't say a word about what happened outside, but you know the dam will burst when you're away from Clíodhna - not only because he said you'd talk at home, but because you can feel the frustration radiating off him. He's jittery; he can't sit still, even as he holds the baby, and he's sighing and running through his repotoire of oral stims on a loop. He drinks water like he's dehydrated, and chews gum like he just needs to do something that's semi-aggressive, just to give him anything close to release on everything he's thinking and feeling. And you know you can't do a thing to help him right now - he's doomed to stew in it all, and you're helpless as you watch. Sitting beside him, as he silently holds Clíodhna in both of his palms, smiling as brightly as he can each time she blinks open her tiny eyes, you know he's trying to keep it positive around her - and you know it's hurting him. He has to be looking at her and seeing what he had in the past, what's changed, and you hope he still appreciates that even with the divorce, and all you both did, he was then and is still now a wonderful father. You watch his gentleness as he eases her back up to the centre of his chest and lays her down, moving her little arms so she doesn't lay on top of them. Her right hand opens out as he touches her, and he smiles - genuinely - as he touches her palm with his little finger.

You smile softly, “She wants to hold Daddy's hand.” You whisper.

He glances at you and his eyes, though swimming with so much, are softly happy. “She's got so strong.” He whispers back.

“It's all down to you,” you tell him.

He scoffs as he turns his head back to look at Clíodhna's fingers tightly wrapped around his little finger. “Not modern medicine, no?”

“It plays its part,” you smile, “But I mean… you outshone anything I thought was right for her, that morning we got her and she was so poorly. I thought medicine was the best thing for her, because it's science that has kept her alive since she was born. But that's not what helped her, Cill. You did. You knew she needed not to be left for the antibiotics to do the work, but that she needed us more. She needed you more. I wanted to hold her but didn't want to disturb the medical side for fear of would make things worse - and then there you were, her wonderful Dad, who knew instantly that what she needed more was your love that she could feel, and smell, and you gave it to her..in your arms, she got strength, Cill. Not because of all the wires and medicine. She was sedated and weak, and still she moved on you because you gave her that power. You fixed her - her Daddy, like magic.” He breathes deeply as you speak and you can see his jaw stiffening as he processes what you say. After a moment of quiet, he looks up at you again. “I'm not saying he won't try, or he won't hurt you, or he won't give destruction a go… I'm just saying that whatever Martin Ellis does or doesn't try to do now, I don't want you to ever forget, regardless of what we did and you leaving Yvonne, that your abilities as a father have never been in question. You're a wonderful Dad, Cill. And whatever he says, I don't want you to let it change that thought in your head. When we met, I felt like I knew your boys before I ever met them myself because you talked about them with such love, pride, and respect all the time. They love you, and Clíodhna loves you so much - she's gotten better for you, because of you. It might get bad soon, and it might go to shit in some places, but please don't sink into any thoughts that you're not good enough for Aran, or Malachy, or Clíodhna. Fuck your Oscar,” you smile sadly, “Those three children are your best work, your greatest achievement, and what you've shown your skills on.”

He breathes deeply and he cheeks his chewing gum as he runs his tongue across his bottom lip. His eyes flick over your face and, while they don't fall, you can see the tears that moisten them. “You're amazing.” He whispers, his voice grumbling from his throat huskily. “Thank you.”

“You don't need to thank me. It's the truth. You just need to keep it in your mind, because I know you're struggling and we may have to struggle even more. I've got your back, I don't care what he says or tries to do. Well, I care… I just mean, it won't change you and me, okay? And I'll do whatever you need, whatever you need, to help you. With Malachy, and Aran, and Yvonne, and when you speak with your family. I'm right here, okay? You, and me, and this little girl.” You speak earnestly.

He nods his head and tries again to smile like he means it. “We'll talk at home.” He says. It isn't dismissive but you know it's on the tip of his tongue to blurt it all out, in the space you've created for him, and he doesn't want to do it here. He smiles again, then focuses the energy within him on the gum between his teeth as he slowly turns his head back to look down at Clíodhna. She's still and comfortable, her eyes blinking open and closed slowly. She feels safe - you can see it in her tiny face - and you hope she feels safe in his arms for her whole life.

“So,” you say as you sit beside Cillian. He's already lounged into the couch, and he follows you with his eyes as you draw your legs up and look back at him, your brows raised in questioning. “Get it all out.” You say, “Top to bottom. How did it go with Malachy and Yvonne?” he sighs, rolls his eyes and sighs again. “Grit and all, I can accept it if you're thinking of holding back words to save me or something. I know what we did - we deserve their anger and upset. We accepted Aran's feelings, we need to accept theirs.”

“It's not even that I'm protecting you,” he says, turning his head to look at you. His hands are clasped together across his middle and he takes another deep breath, only to sigh it out immediately. “I know we deserve whatever they have to say, and how they feel. And I know I should have talked to them sooner, like. But what fucking hurt…was Malachy's face. That lad is so laid back, he's horizontal! But he looked so fucking hurt, Y/N. Like I'd pissed on his beliefs in me, you know? And it fucking hurt so much.” He shakes his head.

“Tell me how it went, love,” you coax him. “Process it as you say it, work it through. And we'll wait here for Malachy, for as long as it takes, for him to feel better.”

Cillian scoffs, “And if he doesn't?”

“We continue to save space for him.” You say, reaching out your hand. You rest it against his thigh as his leg bounces idly up and down. The anxiety is far from settling, more likely amping up, and the stims to cope have just transferred from his mouth to the rest of his body. “Come on,” you tap your hand lightly. “Tell me what happened.” He shifts a little in his seat and finally begins recounting how things had gone when he left the hospital….

Cillian steps through the automatic doors, immediately fixing his sunglasses on to shield his eyes from the glare. It takes mere moments for the two waiting men to spot him and he's approached fairly quickly, even as he begins to walk away. 

“Oh, come on, Cillian. Not stopping for an update? The country was delighted when you shared your news at the awards, and your engagement… you won't let us all know how the young one is?” Martin’s thick Cavan accent goes straight through Cillian, itching his spine. He turns his head, looking at the man as he follows him. “You won't even tell us how little Clíodhna's doing?” 

Cillian's jaw stiffens and he stops walking abruptly. “Don't say her name.” He says, somehow managing to keep his body language fairly innocuous. 

“Only asking after her, lad.” Martin says as he drops his camera down by his side. “Is that the name you'd picked for the last one? Or did you not bother with that, seeing as you'd made arrangements?” 

Cillian scoffs and shakes his head, “Martin…” he sighs, glancing quickly at the other man who, thankfully, had also lowered his camera. He focused back on Martin. “What do you want?” 

Martin shrugs his shoulders, “Just doing my job, lad.” 

Cillian nods his head slowly, “Well, do it elsewhere, so.” he turns away, and continues towards the car across the carpark. Martin doesn't follow, and Cillian wonders how long it'll take before today's photos are online along with some bullshit ‘sources’ being quoted. He sits a moment when he reaches the car, breathing as calmly as his frustration will allow, and stares back towards the entranceway at Martin and his cohort. Cillian considers that he doesn't genuinely hate many people, but if he were to think about it, he'd consider Martin to be running for first place. But his mind quickly begins to turn to his family - his mum and dad, his siblings, his sons and Yvonne… He knows he's about to walk into the fire with the conversations ahead and he knows he deserves whatever words and reactions they have in response. He doesn't want to hurt any of them, and he knows he's about to, and that hurts him more than anything he knows they may throw at him. 

When he pulls the car up outside of Yvonne's house, he realises he should have called ahead. She might not be home, and he hadn't even engaged his brain for long enough to consider if the boys would be in. Knowing he has to chance it anyway, he kills the engine and drags the key from the ignition. He collects himself with a few deep breaths. A cigarette would probably do a better job, he considers, but he can't even motivate himself for that. His mind is set solely on the task at hand, and he doesn't want to deviate. He climbs from the car and walks, with his hands in his pockets, through the open front gate and up the pathway of the small front garden. He sighs as he stops at the door, and drags his left hand free to knock against the small glass panel beneath the door numbers nailed into the frame. It's quickly answered, and he wonders if he caught someone just on their way up or down the flight of stairs that sit adjacent to the door in the hallway. As the door pulls open, Cillian pulls off his sunglasses and smiles a small smile at Malachy. 

“What're you doing here?” Malachy asks, clearly a little surprised to see him. “Shit, is the baby alright?” 

Cillian nods his head quickly, “She's fine, Mal. She's good, actually.” He smiles. “But, eh… who's in?”

“Me and Mum,” Malachy thumbs over his shoulder. “Coming in?” He asks, stepping back from the door. As Malachy moves back, Cillian steps inside and lets his son push the door closed behind them. “Mum!” Malachy's voice booms behind Cillian and he winces as he looks over his shoulder at the lad. 

“Fucking hell, man.” Cillian shakes his head. Malachy smirks. 

“Jays, Mal! What's up?” Yvonne calls back, then appears a moment later from the kitchen-diner at the bottom of the hallway. “Oh! Hi,” she raises her eyebrows, then smiles to shield her surprise. Cillian hasn't missed it, though. “Y’alright?” 

Cillian nods his head. “No Aran?” 

“School.” Yvonne says, her expression slowly melting down into a confused, perhaps even concerned, frown. “What's wrong?” She hasn't lost the ability to read Cillian's expression - they were married a long time. “You've a face on you,” she says lightly, “What is it?” 

Cillian nods his head nervously, then looks around at Malachy. “Can we talk?” He says, “All of us?” He looks back at Yvonne slowly. 

“You sure the baby is alright?” Malachy asks and his nervousness is clear. “Like, say if she's not…” 

Cillian is quick to placate, “Malachy, no, no, she's okay, really. Clíodhna is absolutely fine, getting better every day. They want the oxygen off soon, she's trying to breathe for herself…” he smiles. “She's doing well.” He reassures him, but he's sombre again quickly. “But I need to talk to you, and your Mum. It's…it's important, and it's not pretty.” 

“Is this about the article on you and Y/N?” Yvonne asks and Cillian turns his head back to her. “They released some things about Clíodhna. If you are going to ask if it was us, I hope you know us better than that, Cill.” 

“No,” Cillian shakes his head and sighs. “It's nothing you've done, or…or might have done. Can we sit down? It's important, like. I want to talk to you both, and I'm fucking shitting myself here and…and I know it's not going to land well, but I want to talk about it and I have to talk about it.” 

Yvonne looks suddenly worried, and Malachy moves past his Dad to head to the kitchen. “C’mon,” Yvonne nods her head and gestures behind her to the kitchen. “Come and sit down.” Perched around the dinner table in Yvonne's kitchen, Cillian eyes his ex-wife and eldest son like he's studying for the first time in a long time. Yvonne can read him so clearly, still, and he's only grown more anxious - she watches him torture his lower lip with constant swipes of his tongue. “Cillian, what's going on? Are you sick or something…?” 

“Fuck, are you?” Malachy straightens in his chair in fear. 

Cillian shakes his head fiercely. “No, I'm not sick. I'm might get sick in a minute, but I'm not fucking…dying or anything. Jesus.” He puffs out his cheeks as he exhales heavily. “Right, look… I'll be honest, I don't know if I'd be here at this point in time, or at all, really, but if I don't do this now, it's possible someone else is going to.” 

Yvonne frowns. “Okay…” 

Cillian looks across at Yvonne, “...and I don't want you giving out to him, or whatever, but it's something that Aran already knows. And I didn't fucking tell him, he…he found out.” 

“Right…” Yvonne's frown deepens. 

“Fuck sake, Dad, just fucking get to it.” Malachy huffs, “You're scaring the shit out of me.”

Cillian shifts his eyes across to his son. “I'm sorry. And I need you both to know that, too. I never…I never wanted to hurt anyone, least of all you and Aran,” he focuses on Malachy intensely. “And when your Mum and I were really at the worst of things, I know we were hurting you anyway. And I could have been honest then, but I didn't want to add to it.” Yvonne shifts in her seat and Cillian glances at her briefly. He takes a sharp breath in. “For…for about a year before your Mum and I ended the relationship, before I moved out entirely, You know it wasn't great, Mal, for any of us. The marriage was over, Malachy, well and truly, but we hadn't separated - I kept hoping if I held on for you and Aran, things could be better. They didn't get better, we didn't get better,” he looks at Yvonne. “...and I was seeing Y/N.” 

Malachy's entire body seems to lose its tension and he sits back against the chairback in a sort of flop. “...the fuck…” 

“I'd met her one day, I didn't know her, I was waiting down in Store Street for you off a school trip. She was waiting on a bus, everything was late and we got chatting. Nothing in it, just talking. By some mad …whatever, I met her again in the city a little while on. I'd been talking with Steven, he was heading off and we literally bumped into one another, recognised one another and as Steven left, we talked a wee bit. And we went and got a coffee.” Cillian explains, and his hands shake before him where they rest on the table. “I asked for her number, I pushed it forwards.” 

Malachy shakes his head, “So you had a full on affair because you were too sackless to get divorced at that point?” He snaps. 

Cillian's breath hitches in his chest, but he nods his head. “Yes.” His emotional waves strangle his throat. “...after,” he continues, “After that coffee, we kept in touch and we met some evenings. But fairly quickly, we started falling for one another. I remember you, eh, you went to Kilkenny,” he gestures towards Yvonne. “You were gone a while and Y/N and I met a lot, and took it further, and… I was happy with her, lighter, worried about what I was feeling would do to you all, to you and Aran mostly,” he looks at his son sorrowfully, “But your Mum and I were done, it wasn't repairable and other than needing to know I could still be there, and be your Dad, I had nothing in the relationship anymore. But I fell in love with her. After that weekend youse were in Kilkenny, we saw one another all the time, and publicly too.” 

“She knew about us?” Malachy cuts him off. “About me, and Aran…and Mum?” 

Cillian nods his head, “Yes - she knew. She knew I had you boys, that we were still married, but she also knew I wanted out of the marriage and how bad it was. She knew I was only still in it for you two.” 

“So you're a cheat, and she's a…fucking homewrecking gold-digger?” Malachy scoffs. 

Cillian closes his eyes to the words he has thrown forwards. “She only knew who I was a good while into us having a relationship, Malachy. She'd no fucking idea. She knew I was married, and she stayed anyway - that's her mistake, that's her crime. But I was married - it was me with the family, Mal, me with the ties, me who instigated it, me who called her first.” Cillian explains. He sits quietly for a moment, looking between his son and his ex-wife. Yvonne remains quiet, and Malachy's feelings look moments from boiling point. “She got pregnant, and we didn't find out until it was a wee while in.” He said, his nostrils flaring as he tried not to break. Malachy's eyes widened. “We planned a termination - it was and still is the right idea. But I was a spineless cock, and I let her go to England alone. I stayed here, with you three, while she went t’England, and got the abortion. I have never and will never forgive myself for that - it was the biggest regret of my life, alongside anything I have or am doing that hurts to two of you.” He reaches forwards with his left hand, but as he goes to touch his fingers to Malachy's fidgeting hands, Malachy drops his arms down into his lap. 

“You're a fucking…” Malachy shakes his head, seething with anger. 

“Say it,” Cillian urges him.  

“You snuck around and then you killed the kid you fucked into her?” Malachy slapped his palm down onto the table. “I was fifteen when you started talking to me about being fucking careful if I was looking at girls. You bought me condoms at sixteen and said you couldn't stop me, but don't get some girl pregnant.” 

Cillian nodded his head. “I know.” 

“You're a joke. Can't keep it in your fucking pants, can't stay with Aran and me but can make more? Like now!” Malachy shakes his head, smiling incredulously in his anger. 

“Malachy,” Yvonne tuts, but she sounds sad rather than scolding. 

“Get it all out, Mal.” Cillian insists, his throat constricting painfully. “Whatever you're thinking or feeling, son, say it. If you feel it, then it's true and I deserve it.”

“No. Stop. Cillian, no…” Yvonne sounds calm when she finally speaks up more. 

“I mean it. I fucked up. I don't regret wanting out of our marriage,” Cillian says, shaking his head as he turns to look at her, “And I don't regret that I met Y/N and fell in love with her. I don't. But I regret leaving my sons behind, and I regret the hurt, and the adjustments I left youse to make and to deal with. And I regret that when we talked, and we split, that I didn't fucking tell you then.” 

Yvonne shakes her head. “I knew, Cillian.” She says, still so calm and Cillian frowns deeply. “And I hated you for a year and half after we separated, and divorced. Because it never got shared. We split because we couldn't live with one another anymore. Too much resentment, and hurt, and inability to listen to one another. It never once came out that you'd been seeing Y/N for a year before we split and I hated that you go to just…move on, and be with her and…be happy.” 

Cillian shakes his head slowly, “How?” 

“You can't book tickets to Holyhead, and not go, and it not raise my eyebrows.” Yvonne scoffed. “Nights you were working, or days you'd been at meetings, but the credit card statements list the Westin, or The Parliament… youse liked it in there, you went a lot. I was suspicious, but we hated one another at this point Cillian, so I didn't care. I mean, I cared, but not enough to say anything. And then, shortly before we separated properly, I was called twice by somebody who was looking to fact check.” 

Cillian closes his eyes, “Martin?” 

Yvonne frowns, “Martin Ellis.” 

“Who the fuck is Martin Ellis?” Malachy scowls. 

“A journalist, I suppose.” Cillian looks back at Malachy, and it breaks his heart to see the red rims around his eyes as he fights hard not to cry. He's still growing ever angrier, though, and that's painful too. “He started stalking us, that weekend you were in Kilkenny was the first time I noticed him but I don't know if it had started earlier.” He explains. “He followed Y/N when she went to England, and he knew everything. Everything. ���And he threatened to release everything he had on us, pictures and recorded calls and…fucking medical information from the termination.” 

“And you paid him off.” Yvonne takes a deep breath. “That's what the ten thousand was for?” 

Cillian nods his head. His eyes are fixed on Malachy, who's fallen completely still and silent. “Ten grand to shut up. I didn't want to hurt you three, or my Mum and Dad, or the rest of them. And I didn't…I didn't want to lose my career. I didn't want to lose everything. So I paid him.” Cillian swallowed awkwardly. 

“Jesus, Cillian,” Yvonne shakes her head, and Cillian can't work out what it means by her tone. She sounds sad, sympathetic even, and it feels undeserved. 

“He was at the hospital today.” Cillian says, still watching his son. Yvonne sighs sadly at the revelation. “Martin, he was outside the doors. And he taunted the two of us as we walked in to go and see Clíodhna.” He licked at his bottom lip and took a sharp breath. “He referenced the termination…and I freaked out. I freaked out that he was going to do or say something that would crash everything down and you'd see it, and I don't want that. I don't want to hurt you guys, or risk my job, or…or impact Clíodhna either.” He silently begs Malachy to look at him, but the father-son telepathy is far from viable. “So now you know, and there is nothing he can destroy because I'm after telling you and destroying it my-fucking-self. I had an affair, she got pregnant and had an abortion. And I didn't tell anyone, not a fucking soul. And I am so, so sorry.” 

“Cillian, I…” Yvonne stammers. 

“Malachy? Son, please?” Cillian calls across the table. For a moment, Malachy's resolve breaks and he turns to look at his father. Cillian's face crumples at the look of pure hatred across Malachy's young face, and his heart thuds painfully in his ribcage. His chest heaves as he tries to hold his angry and guilty tears back, but he can't. The devastation written on Malachy's face is agonising. “Talk to me, son? Please, Mal, say whatever you need to say - I deserve it.” 

Malachy stands abruptly, and his chair scrapes noisily off the kitchen floor. “You're a fucking scumbag.” Malachy turns down the corners of his mouth. He walks behind Yvonne's chair and storms quickly from the kitchen, and his footsteps are heavy as he pounds up the stairs. 

Cillian's elbows rest on the table and he cups his face in his hands. “Fucking hell….” He mutters quietly into his palms. His whole body is shaking, and he can barely stand the bubbling concoction of guilt and anxiety that courses through his whole frame. The kitchen is silent for a long while, and it's just as long until Cillian draws his hands from his face. He sniffs against his sadness and turns his face meekly towards Yvonne. “I'm sorry,” he whispers. 

“I can see that.” Yvonne nods her head. “He's angry…” she juts her head towards the doorway, out to the stairs. Cillian nods his head. “Let him process it.” 

“I owe Aran a massive sorry.” Cillian sighs, and he shakes his head slowly. “I didn't ask him to stay silent, like I didn't tell him he had to but he did it. It's not fair to him.” 

Yvonne raises her eyebrows. “How did he find out?” 

Cillian rolls his eyes, “He found old…um…phone messages, on that laptop he had off me in the summer.” 

Yvonne sighs heavily, “And he…what? Approached you about it?” 

“Sort of.” Cillian sits back in the seat, feeling drained. “He started getting…funny, moody around the house, funny with Y/N at times. I called him when I was in England, and he told me what he'd read. I came home for a couple of days and we talked about it. I told him about us seeing each other, and the abortion. I never mentioned Martin, I never thought I'd have to.” 

Yvonne pushes her chair back and gets to her feet slowly. “It took me ages to reconcile it in my head, Cillian, and I won't pull myself back down into that darkness by sitting with it again. I hated you for lying when we had so much shit to face already. But I'm sorry about the termination, and I am sorry about what he did to you two. And I'm sorry your little girl has been so sick.” 

Cillian closes his eyes to her kindness. “Don't apologise to me - I'm in the wrong here.” 

“Massively,” Yvonne agrees. “And Malachy's going to punish you enough for all of us.” She says as Cillian looks up at her, standing behind her chair, with a desperate and sad expression on his face. “You’re his Dad, Cillian - his hero, his role model, the cool Dad who goes on the TV and who half of his school wanted to shift!” She smirked sadly. I'll talk to the two of them, perhaps be a bit more open about how bad it was at the end, but I can't fix it. They're allowed to find your actions as bad as they were. But I won't let them forget that you did then, and do now, love them very much.” Cillian's breath caught as his heart beat wildly. “Go back to your daughter, and your fiancée. Give Malachy a day or two, and try talking to him again then. I'll do what I can here. And if I get wind of anything regarding Martin Ellis, I'll let you know.” 

At her words, Cillian pushes himself to his feet. His whole body feels heavy and sore, a physical manifestation of every level of every emotion weighing down on him and he feels he deserves it all. “I'm sorry, Yvonne. I'm so, so sorry.” 

Yvonne nods her head. “You were sorry at the time, too, Cill. I know you know you were wrong, but I also know you didn't do it to hurt me, or them. I know you love her, and I know you're happy. And I know you're sorry.” For the first time since he'd talked, Cillian can see a deeper emotion on her face and he can hear in her voice the levels of hurt he ignored in the past - it was always overshadowed by the pain and anger of their failed family and relationship. “Go on, get back to that baby.”

…. You dry your cheeks with the back of your right hand as your left hand stays on Cillian's thigh. You're floored by Yvonne's response, and you don't know if you wish she'd been angrier or not. His eyes are brimmed and his cheeks are stained, and he sniffs intermittently. You don't know what to say, or if he even wants you to speak at all. You move your thumb back and forth and it's noisy against his jeans.

“I don't blame him,” Cillian sniffs again. “But his face, Y/N. The fucking hatred in his face was…huge.” he screws his eyes closed and groans loudly. “Fuck!”

“What can I do?” You ask him, swallowing your own emotions. “Tell me, love. What can I do?”

Sniffing again, Cillian shakes his head. He puffs air from his cheeks and signs. “Nothing.” He looks at you. “Nothing.”

“I'm sorry,” you sigh. He holds out his right arm, inviting you to him. Shifting your position, you fold up against his right side and cuddle against him. He rubs his right hand up and down your bicep, and in your position with your head just about resting on his chest, you can hear the thudding madness of his heart, and the trembles you were sure you could feel from his thigh are magnified and enormous as you lie against his torso.

“God, I want to hold Clíodhna right now.” He laughs at himself without a shred of humour. “She represents so fucking much, and she doesn't even know it. And I don't want her to, I don't want to put it on her. But she's a chance to do it better, to not fuck it up, to do what we couldn't do…with that baby…” he heaves a deep breath in. “And she's in the centre of a fucking shit storm that we created, that I let be created.” You don't know what to say - nothing is the right thing, and nothing is going to fix this. “God, I can't switch off the image, Y/N - his face…”

“I know,” you say softly, hugging against him tighter.

“She said I'm his hero and his-his role model? What kind of fucking role model am I?!” Cillian scoffs.

“Stop it - she's right, you know your boys love you. They look up to you. And okay, you're not perfect and this is going to be a long road. But they know you love them, and you and I didn't do this to hurt them.” You insist as firmly but lovingly as you can.

“No, we didn't do it to hurt them - but look now. They're hurt. We're hurt. And tomorrow, I'm going to ring my Mum and Dad, and my brother and sisters, and I'm fucking….gonna hurt them too.”

.

[clus444]

Love and Deepspace p2

Sylus x Black!reader (Ofc anyone can read)

I stand by this ending lmao. But i really didn't know how to end it. Anywaysss, enjoy!Slightly edited! ---------------------------------------------------

*NIP NIP NIP*

I groan as I shift my head to my window. I blink a few times to get the blurry spots out of my eyes.

*NIP NIP NIP*

"What the...," I sit up and huff," What," I zombie walk my way to open the window. I feel a light breeze pass through, close my eyes, and breathe in the air. (So dreamyy)

*Cawk Cawk* Mephisto hops up and down to get my attention. It's impatiently waving a paper between his little but sharp beak.

"It's too early for this amount of attitude," I grasp the paper from his beak, a little harsher than intended. The paper is an off-creme color, folded and wax-sealed, red with a crow-shaped pendant in the middle. Mephisto taps his beak on the window cill and turns his face to the side to focus his eye.

I hide the smile threatening to come out at Mephisto's actions. Despite his butt face of an owner, Mephisto can be good company. I stand up with my left knee cracking a little(It's a real problem.)I go to my kitchen, go straight to my drawers, and grab a quarter I had. I return to my bedroom and put the coin on the window sill," Now get off my property."

*CawkCawk*

  I sit on my bed and open the letter.

   -You've had time to calm down. Now, unblock me.

             -Sylus

   P.S. Forgiveness does not change the past, my love, but allow it to enlarge our future.

Rendition of Paul Boese

I scoff at whatever I just read. Space? I have no proof, but over this past week, I have felt someone's eyes on me when I'm walking home from work, or when I'm on a mission with Xavier, don't even remind me of when I had to meet up with the twins to get my stuff.

  I'll drop dead before I admit this to them but I will miss them. They always made me laugh, included me in things so I wouldn't feel left out, and picked up the pieces from some of Sylus and my earlier fights.

  I go through my morning routine, trying to give myself time to feel hungry to eat some breakfast. I'm going to get over Sylus. Whether It's to get under someone else or egg Sylus's house to get some petty revenge for my heart. I finish up in the bathroom and head downstairs for a light breakfast of fruit loops. I decide to be extra, adding strawberries and a little honey on the side.

  When I finish I almost cross the hallway to the living room but stop when a knock sounds. I head for the door and look through the peephole. Annoyance crawled up dug its way into my ass and burrowed in my head. " What do you want," I question Sylus's smug face at my door. He stops leaning on my door and walks me back into my house, closing the door with his foot as a locking sound catches my attention.

   He backs me to a wall," You took too long to unblock me. I wanted to apologize the right way, but you just...," he trails off looking me up and down. I shiver under his gaze but fix him with a glare. He smirks as he leans down and brushes our lips together. I turn my face away from him.

   "Do I look like a pawn shop? You can't just flash me a pretty smile and think I'll give you my jewels," I push on his shoulders to get some distance. He backs up with a puzzled look on his face," Wouldn't I be the pawn dealer since I give you all of my money, or are you the pawn dealer because I want..." He trails off but quickly follows up by moving his hand to cup my heat.

   Now...I never claimed to be the world's strongest soldier. I also value the saying actions speak louder than words. So! Just as anyone else, who could deny being princess carried to my bed, laid on my back, and shorts hastily off. He pushes my legs apart and up. He kisses my thighs before backing up and smacking my cheek. I yelp as I glare at him, a warning on the tip of my tongue.

   He leans down to my pussy and presses a kiss to my folds, where my clit lays. His tongue slides out of his mouth and softly licks my clit. I roll my eyes as I threaten him in my head, to not tease for long. He smirks at my shiver and looks up to connect eyes. He slowly licks up from my hole up to my clit. My hip buck as my breath gets caught in my throat." I'll give you three reasons to forgive me," is all he says as he blows on my clit and starts lightly sucking it. I push my hips down towards his mouth as he hungrily eats me out.

     My legs clench around his head and I hear an annoyed huff before he wraps an arm around my hips to pin me to the bed. He stations his other hand on my thigh and pushes down so, my folds part and show my flowing juices. "Be good for me, kitten." He dives back into my flowing abyss. My back arches as I whimper," Jus'...like tha'," I moan. He feasts with a hunger I hadn't seen in him before. He pulls back and takes his hand on my thigh and uses it to draw quick circles on my clit.

  " I neglected my poor kitten and instead of licking her wounds clean, I poured salt in them," I'm wet enough that he's able to slide two long, thick fingers into me. He pumps slowly before picking up speed and curling his fingers towards my spot. "ahh...ha," my mouth hangs open as I feel my peak coming strong. A pressure building in my lower abdomen. He takes his fingers out before sucking the liquid on his fingers. His eyes close in pleasure and takes them out.

   He starts drinking from my hole like a man that was left in the middle of nowhere. "P-pleasee... D-on't stop," I cry out as he attacks my clit. My body tenses as my peak hits me. My body spasms against him but Sylus just grips tighter and continues to swirl his tongue on my clit. I whine and whimper, "S... stylus." I begin squirming and my hole clenches around nothing. He pauses his minstriations," Color? If you want to stop I will, I can make it up to you in other ways." I suck in deep breaths.

   I blink at him and think about it. While yes, I would like to get head and possibly fucked into the sheets. The problem is still there and the haze of sex is covering it. "Green... But as much as I want to continue. I want us to talk it out," I feel a sense of vulnerability in the air. I shift uncomfortably from it but don't shed away from his eye contact. My heart picks up speed as he lets my legs down. He rubs my thighs and sits beside me on the bed," Let's talk kitten."

[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part 43)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap,

Over the next few weeks, Cillian seemed to be in a better mood, and, if anything, he was even more affectionate than he had ever been before. He showered you with compliments and affection, making you feel loved and cherished. And yet, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that something was off. He was acting weird lately and you were not entirely sure why. 

"I am just over this Award stuff already, you know. I am sorry," Cillian muttered after you had asked him once again one night he was visiting you and, since you knew how much he hated all this publicity and travelling around, you didn't push the topic any further. 

"I know you do, but you only have five or so more ceremonies to go," you teased him, trying to put a smile on his face.

"Yeah, and I can't wait until they are over," he replied with a huff. "Fuck, I am getting too old for this shit."

You laughed, but you could sense the weariness in his voice. You knew that acting was his passion, but sometimes, it seemed as if the constant travelling and promotions were taking a toll on him. You moved closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you looked up at him.

"You aren't that old though, Cills," you reminded him with a soft smile, your finger tracing the lines that formed between his eyebrows.  "Now tell me, how did the suit fitting go today?" you asked, changing the topic as you looked up at him, waiting for another huff of annoyance to escape his mouth. But instead, he smiled, a proper wide smile that was so bright and genuine that you couldn't help but follow suit.

"It went well, actually," Cillian said, his tone light as he leaned down to press a soft kiss on your forehead. "It's black," he then told you. "I mean they are all black, which is another thing I do not understand," he chuckled. "Why do I need a different suit for every fucking event?" Cillian groused, shaking his head slightly.

"Because you are nominated for an award at each of those events and I suppose it's important for your image?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as if challenging him. Cillian chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

"I suppose, but it's so fucking wasteful," Cillian told you before pulling you even closer, knowing that, for the next few weeks, he would be away even more often than he already had been since Christmas which, due to Mara having been sick, you had spent together on your own.  "I know, but hey, you are a successful actor and everyone expects you to dress the part," you reminded him gently, even though you secretly agreed with him. You didn't like the way that the entertainment industry placed so much emphasis on appearances.

Cillian sighed but nodded, understanding that you were right. "I guess," he murmured, his arms tightening around you before he changed the topic. "I wish you and Mara could come with me to LA tomorrow," he told you softly, as he ran a hand up and down your spine.

You sighed, wishing more than anything that could be possible, but knowing it wasn't. "I know and, if Mara wasn't so little still, I probably would. It's just too hard to travel back and forth with a baby," you told Cillian before reminding him that you would be joining him for the Academy Awards next month, for which Cillian had arranged his mother to travel with you so that she could look after Mara while you attended the awards ceremony with Cillian.

He smiled at you in relief and you couldn't help but notice how much that small gesture made your heart flutter. 

The Oscars were an event that you had agreed to attend with him after him begging you to and you were extremely nervous about it. You  had never been to such a big event before, and you were worried about not fitting in. 

Being a famous actor's much younger girlfriend, you were acutely aware of the scrutiny that would be cast upon you at this glamorous event. And as you looked at yourself in the mirror every day, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious.  You looked nothing like the glamorous actresses that would be attending the awards ceremony with their equally glamorous partners. You were a young, shy, innocent woman who had just become a mother, and you couldn't help but feel out of place.

But Cillian had been nothing but supportive and encouraging, reminding you every day how beautiful and amazing you were. He had even arranged for his own stylist to dress you  for the awards ceremony, insisting that you would look stunning in whatever she picked out for you.

You smiled at the memory, your heart fluttering as you looked up at Cillian. “I wish you didn’t have to go,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

Cillian sighed, his eyes meeting yours before he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I wish I didn’t have to go either,” he murmured, his arms tightening around you. "I much rather be here with you and Mara," he added in between kisses that stole your breath away.

"I know and I love you for that," you murmured, your fingers tracing sharp lines of tension along his sculpted jawline. "I love you so much."

He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of your breath against his lips, the weight of your body against his, and the sound of your voice saying those three words that meant the world to him. He pulled back slightly, holding your gaze for just a moment longer before his lips sought yours again, deepening the kiss.

His hands roamed over your body like a moth to a flame, finding the soft curves of your hips, the firm reason that brought sharp gasps to your lips.

You ran your fingers through his hair, the strands soft and smooth between them.

"I want you, Cillian," you whispered, breaking the kiss to let your lips glide along his cheek, tasting the salt of his skin. His chest rumbled beneath your touch and your nipples hardened with the pounding rhythm of his heart beneath your fingertips.

"Let's go upstairs," you whispered, your breath hot against his ear as you trailed your fingers down his torso.

"How could I possibly say no to you?" he asked, his breath hot against your ear as he spoke before, finally, following you upstairs.

"You can't," you giggled, sensing his arousal.  The intensity in Cillian's eyes was undeniable and, before you knew it, you found yourself in bed with him, naked  and sweaty from the anticipation.

"Fuck, you are so beautiful," Cillian said, his voice low and husky as he ran his hands up and down your body.

You could feel the heat radiating from Cillian's touch and, as his fingers roamed over your breasts, you couldn't help but moan with pleasure. You loved the way Cillian touched you, like you were the only woman in the world.

"And I love you so fucking much," Cillian groaned, leaning forward to kiss you.

His tongue delved into your mouth, tasting you as if you were the sweetest nectar.

You moaned into his mouth, your hands roaming over his back, feeling every inch of him, committing him to memory.

Cillian's arousal was evident as his cock twitched against your thigh, and you couldn't help but reach down to wrap your fingers around it. He gasped as you began to stroke him slowly, feeling the velvety softness of his cock in your hand.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, breaking the kiss as he looked down at you with a desire-filled gaze.

Without releasing his cock, you rolled onto your back, pulling Cillian with you.

He moved over you, his eyes burning with need as he positioned himself at your entrance.

You could feel the tip of his cock probing at your wetness, and you moaned with anticipation, the thought alone causing a slickness that trickled down your thigh.

Cillian groaned, his hands gripping your hips, rendering you helpless as he slowly pushed inside you.

"Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good," he breathed, his hips rocking gently as he adjusted to your tight heat.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper, wanting to feel all of him.

Cillian's grip tightened on your hips, and he began to move in earnest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close and letting go of all your inhibitions.

Cillian's fingers wound through your hair, pulling your head back and exposing your throat to his eager lips. He kissed and bit at your neck, leaving wet, red marks that made you moan with pleasure. 

"Oh god,"  you cried, writhing under him, your body begging for more as he thrust harder and faster.

Cillian's breath was hot and heavy against your skin as he panted with the exertion of pleasure, the sound of their bodies slapping together filling the room, a rhythmic, primal symphony of desire.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Cillian growled, his movements quickening as he neared his release.

"I am so close, Cillian. Don't stop,"  you begged, your words coming out in pants.

"Never," he growled, his hips snapping forward as he drove himself even deeper inside of you.

Your bodies moved in sync, a dance as old as time itself. The bed creaked beneath you, a symphony of pleasure playing out before you.

Cillian's hands gripped your hips tighter as he felt the familiar sensation of his orgasm building deep within him.

"Cillian, I'm going to come," you cried out, your fingernails digging into his shoulders.

"Come for me, baby," he growled, his thrusts becoming erratic as he felt his own climax building.

You cried out his name as your orgasm tore through your body like a tidal wave. Your muscles contracted around Cillian's cock, pulling him even deeper inside of you as he groaned in ecstasy.

Cillian's hips stuttered, and he pressed deeper into you, his orgasm slamming into him as he filled you with his seed.

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you both panted and trembled in the aftermath of your intense lovemaking.

Cillian rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you lay sprawled across his chest, your breathing slowly returning to normal as you listened to the pounding of his heartbeat against your ear.

You could feel the sweat drying on your skin, and the ache between your legs was a constant reminder of the pleasure they had just shared.

Cillian's tongue found yours, and the two of you kissed passionately, tangling your limbs together as you savored the afterglow.

Eventually, Cillian pulled away, looking down at you with a soft, lingering stare. "I love you so much, Y/N," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

"I love you too, Cillian," you responded, your voice just as tender as his, not knowing the secret he was holding from you. 

Tags:

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

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

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

[kikimurphys]

Behind Closes Doors (Part 8)

Pairing: Cillian x Y/N

Warnings: Smut

Much to your luck, you hadn't crossed paths with him on set, and you busied yourself steaming the dresses and suits the actors needed for their scenes and sewing beads back onto a skirt that had ripped. By lunchtime, you were exhausted.

When you got out of work, you headed to your apartment after picking up some take-out tacos. You had been craving something spicy all day. Once inside your apartment, you took off your heels and flopped onto the couch, legs up. They were swollen from having to stand in heels all day. "Ugh, why do I insist on dressing up? I always forget how pregnant I am" you muttered to yourself. And they weren’t even that high, to be honest.

After you finished eating, you placed the dishes in the sink and got yourself a glass of juice. God, you were so in the mood for a drink right now after the day you had. You had managed to not think about Cillian all afternoon, at least not as much as you used to.

Just as you stepped into your bedroom to change into your pajamas, the doorbell rang. You froze. Who could it be at this hour? You glanced at the clock—8:45 PM. With a sigh, you put your glass down and walked to the door, hoping it wasn’t anyone who would demand too much of your time. You were really tired and began to feel hot in your long-sleeved dress, all you wanted was to go to bed. You peeked through the peephole, standing on your tiptoes, and your breath caught in your throat.

Cillian stood there, looking as disheveled and tense as you felt. God, you had totally forgotten to text him back. Your first instinct was to ignore it, pretend you weren’t home, but you knew he wouldn’t leave that easily. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door.

“Cillian,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “What are you doing here?”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of worry and determination. “We need to talk,” he said simply.

You stepped aside to let him in, closing the door behind him. You led him to the living room, where you both sat down, the tension between you palpable.

“I’ve been trying to reach you,” he began, his voice soft but insistent. “You didn't respond to my text.”

“I’ve been busy,” you replied, avoiding his gaze.

Cillian nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Look. I’m sorry. I was an arsehole this morning. I can't even begin to imagine the amount of pressure you are under, and I feel terrible that you felt like you had to hide the fact you are pregnant from me, or to even think that I wouldn’t be a part of her life, or… yours.”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the flood of emotions his words stirred up. “I thought it would be easier if I just handled everything on my own. You have your own life, and I didn’t want to complicate things for you. You didn’t have to leave her.”

He reached to hold your hands in his. “The thing is, I wasn’t happy with her. Leaving you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession. “Why did you do it then?” you asked quietly, confusion and sadness in your voice.

“I don’t know,” he looked away. “I thought I was doing the right thing... and I ended up hurting the one person I didn't want to hurt, and I'm terribly sorry about it.”

“You did hurt me, Cill,” you stopped and sniffed as you began to feel tears well up in your eyes. “I was so confused when you dumped me, and then when you got back with Siobhan… I felt like I meant nothing to you. It was like you just erased everything we had.”

Cillian’s grip on your hands tightened, his eyes pleading. “I never wanted to erase us. I was scared and I made a mistake, a terrible mistake. I was genuinely happy when I was with you. Please believe me, I want to be with you. I want to be with our daughter. You are the one I want.”

“Do you mean that?” You were shocked by his confession. Did he really feel the same as you? You had convinced yourself that you didn’t mean anything to him more than sex and a good time.

“Yeah,” he responded quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He reached out to cup your cheek with his hand and gently wiped away a tear. “I love you, Y/N. And now that we have this baby on the way,” he stopped and placed a hand on your bump. You felt your baby move at his touch. “I don’t ever want to let you go again.”

Love? Did he say love?

“But what about your family? Your life? I mean—” You were still unsure and couldn’t believe his words.

“None of it means anything without you,” he said, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m ready to tell everyone about us, about our daughter. I want to give you the place you deserve in my life. No more hiding, no more secrets.”

His words washed over you, soothing the doubts and fears that had been swirling in your mind. You searched his eyes for any sign of insincerity but found only earnestness and love.

He leaned closer and gently pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was tender, his hands holding your face in place, while your arms reached up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. You could feel the warmth of his skin, the steady beat of his heart against your chest.

As the kiss deepened, you suddenly pulled away, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. "Promise me," you said softly, locking eyes with him.

"What?" he asked quietly, his gaze searching yours.

"Promise me that you won't break my heart again," you pleaded, your voice tinged with vulnerability.

Cillian's expression softened, his fingers brushing gently against your cheek. "I promise you, Y/N," he replied solemnly, his voice filled with sincerity. "I won't ever leave you again. I love you."

He leaned in to kiss you again, this time with more passion and eagerness. Your lips moved in sync, tongues intertwining as the intensity of your desire for each other grew. Feeling his hands grip your hips, he swiftly pulled you into his lap. Straddling him, you felt the immediate rush of heat between your legs. “I love you too,” you murmured between kisses, your hands finding their way into his hair, pulling him closer to you. His hands began to caress your legs, running up and down as your dress bunched up at your hips. Every touch sent a shiver down your spine, heightening your arousal. Through your dampened panties, you could feel his growing erection press against you.

“I've missed you,” he said as his hands moved to your breasts, massaging them through the fabric of your dress, and he began to trail kisses down your neck to your cleavage. You let out a moan and began to grind against him, your need for him growing more intense with each passing second.

“I missed your moans,” he murmured, his hands moving to the hem of your dress, lifting it up. You raised your arms, allowing him to pull it over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. He took a moment to admire your body in the dim lighting of the room, his eyes filled with desire and adoration.

"I missed you too." You leaned in to give him another passionate kiss, your hands roaming over his back. He reached to unclasp your bra, and you shivered at the sensation of his fingers against your skin. The bra fell away, and his hands immediately found your breasts, kneading them gently.

You arched your back, pressing closer to him, feeling the heat of his body through the fabric of his clothes. Your hands moved to his shirt, fumbling with the buttons in your eagerness to feel his skin against yours. Finally, you managed to undo his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. Your hands explored his freckled chest, tracing the contours of his muscles. He groaned softly at your touch, his hands moving down your torso and resting on your bump. The sight of your growing stomach turned him on even more. His hands reached your panties, and his fingers slipped under the fabric, beginning to massage your wet pussy.

"You're so wet," he said between kisses.

“Just for you,” you breathed out, craving his touch. He entered a finger, and a gasp escaped your lips as he began to trail kisses down your cleavage to your breasts, teasing and nibbling your nipples.

Your eyes closed, your mouth open from the ecstasy. “Ah, I missed how you make me feel.” The sensation was everything you had been wanting. You had been so horny the last few weeks and were more sensitive than usual due to your pregnancy.

“And how do I make you feel?” he asked playfully, his breath hot on your skin. Adding another finger, he pumped in and out of you slowly as his mouth continued to work its magic on your breasts. The combination of his skilled fingers and the warmth of his mouth sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. You held onto his shoulders, rocking your hips against his hand, seeking more friction, more of him.

“Oooh, so good,” you whined, throwing your head back, your face contorted with pleasure.

He reached up to kiss you, his free hand cupping your breast and his thumb playing with your nipple as he devoured your mouth, swallowing your moans.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasped. Your movements became more erratic as you rode his hand. He curled his fingers inside you, hitting that perfect spot. "Come for me, baby," he whispered, his voice low and commanding.

The intensity of his words and the rhythm of his fingers pushed you over the edge. You clutched onto him, your body trembling as waves of ecstasy washed over you. “Oh my god!” Your cries of pleasure filled the room, your nails digging into his shoulders as you came hard around his fingers. He held you through it, his fingers never stopping until you were completely spent.

Breathless and trembling, you collapsed against him, your forehead resting on his shoulder. He gently withdrew his fingers, his other hand softly stroking your hair. “You’re incredible,” he whispered.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you laughed, looking up and meeting his eyes. You leaned in to kiss him, your lips lingering on his, full of desire and affection.

With one hand still tangled in his hair, you reached down with the other to cup his erection through his pants. He was rock hard, and a low groan escaped his lips at your touch. His hand roamed down your back, grabbing your ass and giving it a little squeeze before he took your arms and placed them on his shoulders. With a swift motion, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you effortlessly and walked to your bedroom.

tags:

@mamawiggers1980 @xsweetcatastrophe @thistheivyseason @galactict3a

[imichelle-l-rigby]

Reflections: Cillian Murphy’s Limited Edition

Season 3, episode 1

———————————————————————

*I am a music prof (predominantly classical vocalist), and I LOVE listening to Cillian’s music choices! That being said, sometimes I won’t like a song simply because of a vocalist (it’s a professional hazard - sorry!) 👩‍🏫

** The following are my own observations/opinions. We may not agree, and that’s ok! That’s what makes music fun! 😊

*** I wouldn’t say I’m well-versed in Cillian’s music preferences, but I do enjoy them (for the most part). I always wind up adding to my own playlists after listening to Cillian’s recommendations.

———————————————————————

And without further ado… my reflections!

🎵 Set 1 (24 Track Loop - Halleluhwah)

This seems to be all electronic music focused. He’s done entire episodes around electronic music before, so I’m enjoying the sampling. Great way to start!

I also remember him saying somewhere that he takes time creating sets of music. I appreciate that and it helps the flow and continuity so much.

Side note - it’s taken me a looooong time to appreciate electronic music, but thanks to Cillian, I now can say I like it

24 Track Loop: reminds me of the first composers to play with recorded sampling compositions in the ‘50s (Varèse comes to mind), but the “track loop” is reminiscent of early minimalist recordings in the late ‘60s, especially with how repetitive some of the sounds become.

Diskhat: yeah, I’m definitely getting ‘50s experimentalist vibes! Reminds me of John Cage’s prepared piano pieces (and honestly it may be quoting some but I’m not sure so this is a guess), but mixed with some funky grooves! As weird as this is, it’s growing on me and I kinda really like it!

Halleluhwah: nice vamp at the beginning 😎 this is definitely something that could get stuck in my head and I wouldn’t mind it!

🎤 Talking break:

I missed hearing him talk about music!!! 😊

“It’s been a minute now”

How many times can he say “back” in a 5 second time span??? 😂😅

“… very amenable to light housework.” Great! Do you think if I ask nicely he’ll come clean my house while I’m at work??? 😂

When he’s talking about the above 3 songs, the “insistency” is so true. They all have elements of a continuous underlying pulse, which is pretty common in electronic and minimalist music.

I do find fault with his term “atonality” - atonal music has no pitch center, but the pieces just played DO have a pitch center.

“Turtles have short legs - which they do!”

🎵 Set 2 (fix-Guns of Brixton)

Fix: not my favorite song, but peaceful. I neither like nor dislike

Guns of Brixton: ok but this has been stuck in my head since I heard it 😂 I really like it!

🎤Talking break:

Yes Cill, covers are so appreciated!

🎵Set 3 (Look Down From the Bridge - Pale Blue Eyes)

Look down: nice, chill. Again, not my favorite, but I don’t dislike it. Interesting instrument choices. 👍

Pale Blue Eyes: I like everything about this except for his voice. I wish I liked it, but I don’t. 🤷‍♀️ if I had to describe it, his voice sounds thin, and the voice teacher within me wants more.

These songs seem like great examples of storytelling within music, so I definitely see why Cillian likes them.

🎤Talking break:

He sounds so pleased knowing his factoids 😂😂😂 never change, Cillian!

Drella is my favorite thing now! 😂

🎵Set 4 (No No - Three Drums)

No No: why isn’t this mentioned in the track list??? THIS IS AMAZING AND I AM LOVING THE POLYRHYTHMS! I’m having so much fun rhythmically that I can’t even focus on the lyrics I have no idea what they’re saying 😂😂. ✨ This is prob my fave song of this episode. ✨

The way these songs blend into the next is so satisfying 😌

Three Drums: I like how this is a “cool down” from the craziness of No No, but also pairs really well. Nice and chill. It’s a feel good song and such a vibe. 😎

🎤Talking Break

THE TERRIBLE IDENT RETURNS!!! 😆

Sugar is a great song!

The exclusive - omg 😳😂

*whisper* exclusive

🎵Set 5 (All Your Fails)

All Your Fails: If bop is still a term, this is a bop! *dancing along* 💃 but seriously, the vocal line has so many upward leaps that it reminds me of a lot of boppy pop music. I’m digging this!

To be fair, I tend to like Broken Social Scene, so it makes sense I’m into All Your Fails.

🎤Talking Break

The way he says “woo” without any enthusiasm 😂

🎵Set 6 (It’s Love - Minor Meditations)

It’s Love: ok, I’m in love! 😍😍😍 acoustic guitar is beautiful, and I’m enjoying these harmonies.

Minor Meditations: nice segue with the acoustic guitar selections. 👍 the title is cute and punny, too! AND THE PICARDY THIRD AT THE END!!! 😎

🎤Talking Break

“… excellent! … wahoo wahoo wahoo”

🎵Set 7 (Wahoo - Where Did Our Love Go)

Wahoo: for a song with such a happy title, this was quite bluesy in terms of lyrics! And the funk and jazz bits - What a twist!!! 🙀

Girl group power!!!!!!! I love listening to artists recall how hits came to be.

Where Did Our Love Go: YES I LOVE THE SUPREMES!!!! 😍😍😍

🎤Talking Break

As much as he talks about W. Kerry, I feel like I need to go! It sounds gorgeous!

🎵Set 8 (To War - Jah Nuh Dead)

To War: this guy is playing the fire out of the concertina! 🔥

Side note - I am sooooo into traditional music! It’s one of the things I study, and many composers find inspiration from traditional music of various regions. I have such respect for the genre that I could go on, but I won’t to save y’all’s sanity 😅

Again, the transitions between songs are soooo well done!

Master Crowley’s: the drone and pedal points are so effective! The inclusion and intentional omission actually do a lot in building momentum. It’s also so cool how eventually everything fades into the background and you’re left with just sonorities, and then you go back and get a mix of everything! 💯

Jah Nuh Dead: Sinéad!!! I hadn’t heard this song before, and it’s absolutely beautiful and haunting. It takes a special person to keep you captivated and carry their own against such bare/sparse accompaniment. She has such a unique voice. She’ll truly be missed.

I’m guessing this is the Irish set 🍀

🎤Talking Break

Ya gotta love it when he fangirls over bands!

SINÉAD!!!!!!

🎵Set 9 (Fairlies)

Fairlies: so this is what happens when Irish musicians go to HOT climates? Jk jk 😂 no, I really like this. Some interesting lyrics!

🎤Talking Break

I kinda miss flip phones.

🎵Set 10 (I Am A River)

I Am A River: this is a bright song, and I mean that in terms of timbre. All the instruments and even the vocals are very ☀️☀️☀️ it definitely paints an image in your head/imagination

🎤Talking Break

No!! Don’t shut up! I love your rambles!

“Aylesbury Boy, in a kinda animated buffalo character” - what on earth does they mean??? Bullwinkle???

🎵Set 11 (Aylesbury Boy)

Aylesbury Boy: I’ll be honest, I don’t like this. It’s got a lot of funny words in it, a decent background rhythm, but it’s not my jam.

🎤Talking Break

Ok, an album of covers is a great idea.

“Stop talking. Listen to it” 😂

🎵Set 12 (Three Hours)

Three Hours: I’m really digging the backing track. It’s got some fun sound effects, but what I really like is the driving rhythm against this free-flowing vocal line. Nice contrast!

🎤Talking Break

I like how he talks more as the show goes on 😂

New content! 🙀

“Outrageously reasonable questions”

I’ll be honest, the non-advent music calendar confuses me 😅

“Cardboard aperture”

THE IDENT. OMG.

🎵Set 13 (O Barquinho - Till the Morning Comes)

O Barquinho: yep! This is bossa nova!

Till the Morning Comes: the piano and other background music reminds of Penny Lane 😂😂😂 I genuinely can’t even listen to the song properly because I keep expecting Paul McCartney to burst in with some vocals 😂😂😂😂

🎵Talking Break

Oh dear. We’ve gotten to the experimental poetry part of the show! This could be good or bad 😅

“I like jazz for the principle of what jazz is” - Nordine

Well Nordine, if that’s your stance, then I appreciate your performance of Coral for the principle of what it is, as a non-musical reinterpretation of jazz.

“A flight of musical fantasy within structure.” Ya know, not a bad definition of jazz. You do improvise over a pre-arranged chord progression, so that makes sense!

🎵Set 14 (Coral - nightclub)

Coral: not gonna lie, this is my least favorite selection of the show. HOWEVER, I will give credit where it’s due! I do appreciate that he’s got word plays, puns, and other poetic devices all over the place. That stuff mimics some of the techniques you’ll find throughout jazz. Now what’s really cool is the background music - you can hear bits and pieces influenced from different eras of jazz, such as New Orleans, swing, some bebop, and more modern stuff as well! Even though I hate it, I appreciate what it does.

Also, I first thought this song was a cheesy ad 😂😅 I definitely can tell he’s a voice actor

Nightclub: I like this a lot! Crazy how it goes from insanity to something really sweet, funny, and enjoyable. The background music is so ethereal and although a bit random, it’s great! The contradiction is like “salty and sweet” snacks. It shouldn’t work, but it does. Although I guess it mirrors some of the temporary images in the poem, like the smoke disappearing.

🎤Talking Break

Whoa. Cillian put the backing track in?! Good choice, dude!

🎵Set 15 (Remember Begum Rokheya)

Remember: ok I love this!!!! Polyrhythms galore, and the instrument pairings are so much fun! 😍

🎤Talking Break

“Approachable mellow” - does this mean there’s mellow stuff that isn’t approachable? I’d love to hear an example

🎵Set 16 (I Smile for E)

I Smile for E: I like the contrast between verse and chorus. Going from a minor key to major gives an auditory version of “smiling” nice touch! But I’ll be honest - idk why this is more “approachable” than other mellow songs 😅😂

🎤Talking Break

I’m not sure he’s saying “Hinoki” correctly. It looks Japanese to me? But idk. I’m not an expert and he’s definitely more informed than I am

“Useful music” - isn’t all music useful in some way? 🤔

🎵Set 17 (Hinoki Wood - Woman In Late)

Hinoki Wood: an interesting choice of instrument. You can tell it’s an old upright that needs a bit of maintenance, but it does have some charm.

Woman In Late: ok, so we are back to the tape loop concepts seen at the beginning of the show! Kinda cool how he’s circling back. Anyway, the “tape loop,” or looping of small lengths of recorded tape, was a thing done at the beginning of the minimalist trend in the ‘60s (think Reich or Riley) to create this fuzzy sound effect seen here. I love how you hear that influence in so many corners of the music world!

🎤Talking Break

“Delicious”

What???! The last song??? 😭😭😭

Yay! New music!

“Mind yourselves”

🎵Set 18 (Unknown Summer)

Unknown Summer: I’m digging it 😎 This has some amazing dissonant vocals and it is soooooo satisfying. I don’t like the crackle effect in the background, but it does help build this “distortion” they’re building in the song. It’s kinda fun to put that distortion against the “clear” blue skies. I see what ya did there… 😂

———————————————————————

Ah! That’s the end!!!

Thank you so much for reading all this. I honestly can’t believe anyone is interested in my rambles. Anyway, hope you enjoyed! I’ll write again next week for episode 2!

Tag list:

@iammrsrogers @deliciousnutcomputer @mariamoonie @brownskinsugarplum76 @look-at-the-soul @kj-davis @neverroad @teapothollow @thepurplearmyposts @possessedmarshmallow

[hannahwatcheshorror]

28 DAYS LATER (2002)

💁‍♀️💁‍♀️Strong Female Lead(s)

While over 20 years old now, the effects hold up very well as does the story. I would like to find flaws and say that people wouldn’t be so stupid as to spread the virus in the first place, or that people would never be so cruel to one another in hard times, but after having gone through a pandemic… This movie does an excellent job showing what happens during a public health crisis. I’ve only just seen the film but I know it's worth watching again for details I missed the first time.

⭐⭐⭐⭐

The filmmakers had no idea about COVID-19 when they made this movie in 2002 but I can’t help but compare the two events and shudder. The Rage sickness did NOT have to be spread. The science man told them pretty explicitly that if they set the chimps loose, everyone will start dying immediately, and what happened? Exactly. It only took 28 days for Rage to ravage London and for poor lil' Cillian Murphy to wake up all alone in the buff (though I appreciate some male nudity with these mostly female nudity heavy movies, thanks Cill). He finds his world very empty save for some very wild folk who really want a bite out of him (but I mean, who doesn’t). He teams up with a guy and a girl but lights a candle so he can be alone with the girl. Then he and Selena (the girl) find a Daddy-Daughter duo and the daughter’s name is Hannah so she has some big shoes to fill (but I digress). 

They pick up an emergency broadcast telling them to go to a promised land and Hannah is the deciding vote (get it, girl). They go through a tunnel and Papa Frank guns it which is scary and fun but it pops a tire. Hannah to the rescue! Everyone lifts the car while reminding Hannah to hurry (she knows) as she puts on a spare. This was very stressful because I really want Hannah to survive this movie (figures). Next, Hakuna Matata because they go apocalypse grocery shopping (and Daddy Frank is pleased to see the Granny Smiths are going strong because of radiation). Picnicking and having a campout somewhere green and with wild horses, you almost forget about the terrifying, red-eyed, infected. Almost.

They make it to the promised land but there is no one there so Father Frank kicks something out of frustration and gets a drop of virus blood in his eye and THEN the army fuckers pop up out of nowhere to kill him. I am ANGRY and sad for Hannah (and Cillian who mistook Frank for his father earlier). All those left are trucked back to the army headquarters. Things start to feel a little off, and then the head honcho tells dear Mr. Murphy that he promised his hard working soldiers women. Yeah, it’s only been a month but they were all ready to off themselves over the idea of not getting laid again, but being able to take advantage of a woman? Now that sounds like a fine idea to these freaks! Obviously, Cillian, Selena, and Hannah are NOT on board for this but they are outnumbered and so the non-dominant male is exiled.

Cillian doesn’t take well to this so becomes a super stealthy boy suddenly even though in his life before all this he was a delivery driver. He lures Best Boy out into the woods and then doubles back to the clubhouse to rescue Selena and Hannah, taking out one of the baddies on the way. At this point the girls are very scared which is fair because they’ve been made to change into different clothing in front of the men (bright red dresses specifically). Selena gives Hannah some drugs so she won’t have to endure the full effects of the evening but this sort of backfires when the young lady isn’t taking the zombie in their midst very seriously! By the time Cillian comes in and takes care of the guy grabbing up on his woman, Selena thinks he might have The Rage (TM), but he still has his big, old, baby blues. Blonde bitch boy tries to ruin things but Hannah tells him no and feeds him to his pet zombie. Finally, they are in a little house and like a little family, and they sew and make a big “HELLO” for planes overhead to see (but they are pretty sure all of Europe is in lockdown so they are gonna be stuck there a while).

The “what if” alternative ending is just the most realistic ending if Murph-dawg really got shot point blank in the torso during the apocalypse. Homeboy dies. Sorry. The “Radical Alternative Ending” was just as it said, radical. They had an idea that perhaps the cure could be a full body blood transfusion but realized that this couldn’t work in the world they created where a single drop of blood in the eye could infect you in 20 seconds. Cillian ends up dead but Frank lives in the radical scenario. It was fascinating to see them storyboarding.

-----------------------HANNAH WATCHES HORROR--------------------

[livums]

Livvvvvvv you know I’m coming in here with 16 and 21 for the wip asks ily <3

hi korblez <3 ty for the ask!! and for making me write lmfao.

(Ask game here!)

16. Write the next 5 sentences and share

Eve would never truly recall the last time she saw Bright Aurora. She hadn’t known to take special care to remember their final encounter—how could she have known? Singer Eosa said that she had been wed. Her new husband lived far to the west, in Cill Emmond, so that was where she had gone. In the winter, Orin began training alongside her.

21. Share 3 songs that would belong on a playlist for this chapter/fic.

putting this under the cut ehe

Honorary Astronaut - Gold

She perfected the art of dividing her love from her lover / But in the end I would find she retired her heart from a man

Deciding to distance herself from the menacing man that I am / And she was praying we won't be forced to stay until our hearts stop beating / Too afraid to admit defeat again

Kehlani - Good Thing

I like my own company / Company, I don't need it / I'm not always cold / I'm just good on my own, so good on my own / I've always been told, one day, I'll find / Somebody who changes my mind / If they come along, I won't think twice / 'Cause I already got a good thing with me / I already got everything I need

Don McLean - Crying

I thought I was over you / But it's true, so true / I love you even more than I did before / But darling, what can I do? / While you don't love me / I'll always be / Crying over you

ty again for the ask!

[denimbex1986]

"I've been interested in Oppenheimer for some time. We put it in Tenet as a, you know, an analogy, but this idea of the moment where Oppenheimer and his team couldn't entirely rule out the idea that when they let off that first device, they'd start a chain reaction that would destroy the world; that just seemed like the most incredible moment in time to take the audience to - be in that room with them."

"You know, when I'm writing I try to be disciplined and not write with actors in mind, because then you're writing something you've already seen them do, and it's limited. But when you finish the script, then for me, I was adapting the book 'American Prometheus' and the book's sitting there with the real Robert Oppenheimer staring out with this incredible sort of blue-eyed stare from the cover of that book and I thought: 'Well, I know who could do that.' And I've been lucky enough to work with Cillian for - twenty years now?"

"Yeah."

"And - but never in a leading role. And this time I got to, to make that call and say: "Yeah, this is the one. You're going to take centre stage and you get to really carry the audience with you on this journey.""

"You see how I just got out of his light?"

"I mean, that was one of the great days; you have a few of those in your career and that was; that's been the best so far. I mean, in typical Chris fashion there's no like, text or preamble - 'I might be writing something' - it just came straight out of the blue, so it was a shocker, yeah. But like, the best type of shocker, you know?"

"No texting."

"Yeah, I love a good protagonist. Just to double-up on Cillian's - mine was: I read the script, I was mind-blown and then Chris said: "Will you do it?" So, forget texts and all that, he cuts right to the chase, but he's literally, for a director, he's very direct and it's why everything like you said, Matt, by the time I got to set you said: "Downey, everything happens in front of the camera; you're going to love this." You said to me, Emily, you said: "I'm telling you, this is going to be a life-changing experience." Of course he already knew, but then he was in front of it, and that was the real joy; was to show up for someone we all admire and watch him carry the ball..."

"He looks great in a hat."

"It was Chris' script. It was an extraordinary part. She's a fireball and complicated and not the archetypal sort of conformist of 50s housewife, you know? He's her fourth husband at 29, but I, I think they were like, like comets coming together and she was clearly a monumental presence in his life, but not an easy woman. I read this line in 'American Prometheus' that Chris encouraged us to read and it said 'she didn't do small talk, she only did big talk' - and it was so emblematic of the character really. But, I mean I just had the best dialogue and the best scenes and I think my scenes with Cillian were very emotional and wrought and, and exciting. It's where you see the, the intimacy of this man; you see the private life and the trauma of a brain like that, and it was just so exciting to get to work with Cill again and we - I'd loved working with him on A Quiet Place II, and I think having that trust and secret language we already had established was huge. You know - jumping into this world of tempestuous couple; I remember Chris saying when we did the camera test, we were in our prosthetics and Chris went: "God, I'd never want to have them over for a dinner party." Who'd want the Oppenheimer's coming over, you know?"

"You'd have to and you know it would like, get messy."

"Yeah, yeah. I mean, to echo what Downey was saying, Chris is very direct; like when he offered me 'Interstellar' years ago, he said: "You know, they say there are no small parts, there are only small actors", and I'm like "Yeah", and he goes: "This is a small part." So, so when he came with this one, we talked and, and he said: "You know, the book is 'American Prometheus', it's this great Pulitzer prize winning book." He goes: "I'm not calling the movie that, I'm calling it 'Oppenheimer' because it has to be entirely - it is going to be through his eyes." And when I read the script, I'd never seen this before - it was written in the first person. Never seen that before and it gave you as a reader the, that visceral, that subjective Oppenheimer experience, so instead of going: 'Oppenheimer across to the window', it says: 'I, I walk towards the window' and you're, you know, it just had this kind of immediate see - kind of visceral, punch. And so you could see what he was trying to communicate to us and to his crew like: 'This is what the movie is gonna be', and he said: "What I need are actors in support of that. This entire thing is going on Cillian's back, and I need you guys to support that, right?" And so that was really; that's a great kind of marching order - very, you know, actionable for us and, and easy to understand and every day I was like: 'All right, how can I help that?'"

"How can I get more lines?"

"'How can I get more lines?' But, but watching the two of them, because it really is a partnership at that level, when you see a movie of this scale, that is fearless enough to live in quiet moments, in, you know, in IMAX on his face, and with everything that's going on, I mean the most impossible moral quandaries you know, and, and live there, it's about these two guys being so locked in together and, and watching them build that together, and then watching Chris build a movie around that performance was, was the rush. So in my case it was yeah, you know, I'm one of the spokes of the wheel, and the tension between us is that, is that you know the military is obviously obsessed with secrecy and compartmentalization and, as you say the liberal scientists are like you know: 'Open the kimono, let's share all of our, our knowledge so that we can get to the answer.' And so there was this kind of natural tension, but despite that, these two guys actually really liked and respected each other, even though nobody else liked Groves. So that was the fun thing to play; I never had a character who was so brusque and blunt and just didn't give a shit, you know? Because to be liked, it was so far down on his list of objectives like, if you asked him: "Do people like you?", he would probably look at you like: 'I don't even understand the question.' You know what I mean? Because what they were doing was so consequential, I mean Chris has said, he's been on record saying Oppenheimer's the most important person to live in the last hundred years if not ever, and this movie is about the most important things human beings did perhaps in the, in you know, the history of the species. And so to be part of a movie that's telling that story, with a director who's at the absolute height of his abilities, you know with, with, with a chance to support that performance which to me is one of the great performances I've ever seen on screen, was thrilling so -"

"And this is the man who colonised Mars."

"And I had no supporting cast."

"I think Mr. Nolan, maestro, is a, a singular storyteller in that all of his movies, even at, you know, the most obvious one being the spinning top at the end of 'Inception', it's always inviting conversation. He's always presuming the audience wants to be elevated to a place where there's a dialogue that continues on. And then this is kind of the natural progression, you know, and I think about like: 'What was Kubrick doing before he decided to make - you know, pick one of his films and you just; you're just glad that there is this progression. But yeah, for sure, I mean we're excited by it and it's, it's a rollercoaster of just an experience cinematically, but it also is that thing that I think - that's why you're responding the way you are. You know, we want - we want to be challenged by cinema at its best."

"I would've taken it."

"We were all in New Mexico like, eating quesadillas and he was like in his room eating an almond."

"By the way, he declined every dinner invitation for the entire film. We invited him to dinner every night; he never came once."

"The only thing Chris would do by text was his daily calorie count."

"Well the approach I always take is do as much research as you possibly can, and there's so much out there about Oppenheimer and the Manhattan Project. There's, there's so much archival footage out there you can, you can access, and you know, obviously I read the book, but for me the most important resource was the script. You know, that's what I really worked on, and I had six months from when Chris called me unexpectedly and - to when we started shooting - to work on it. Having said that, I think when you get on the floor with actors like these guys, and with Chris, you kind of just put that aside and it all becomes kind of about the moment and the truth, and the emotion between the, the actors and that was just, every day it was - it was a gift. You know, I can't give you one specific point, but there was many scenes in the film, like with Robert and with Emily and with Matt like, they were just kind of electric; you could kind of feel it fizzing, and at that point, yeah, it isn't intellectual, it's kind of instinctual and, and emotional."

"Well I've used IMAX for years and, IMAX film is, is the highest quality imaging format ever devised. And what that gives you is access to the audience's perceptions; it takes the screen away. I refer to it as sort of 3D without the glasses. You know, you're just looking at a crystal clear, sharp image and we've used it in the past for a lot of action; we've used it for the grand vistas, and my director of photography, Hoyte van Hoytema and myself, you know, we knew we would get New Mexico that way. We would get the storms, we would get the desolation of where they, they built Los Alamos. But what we both got really excited about is: 'How can it, how can this format help give us access to Oppenheimer's thought process? How can it help us really peer into his soul?' You know - what happens when you apply that grand format to intimacy, to what these guys are doing, you know, to really seeing the world through his eyes and trying to pick up the different layers of, of what everybody is thinking and feeling and all of the conflicts and paradoxical situations and, and ethical dilemmas that are going on. And we found that the format is a powerful tool for all aspects of, of cinema really; and cinema is just about storytelling and it's more than anything about the human element."

"It's like how, how did they do that? But the, the like, I love like, like Downey's character, he's obsessed with this conversation that these two great scientists have. It's like, it's about the, the bigness and greatness of men in this - and women - in this smallness of us, you know what I mean? Like, human beings are just so - you know yes, to your point, it is, it, it, it, it, it - it's; there's a reason he wrote about it in Tenet, there's a reason it's in our movie. It's because it's, it's kind of a central conundrum like how, how they press the button anyway. How would you do that if there was any possibility, at all, that you could wipe the species off the planet? Like -"

"And they were taking bets on it."

"Yeah."

"That's the crazy thing."

"Well, I just also want to say the, the, the, the, the incredible brilliance of Opper - Oppenheimer, but yet his naivety, right, to go to, to, think that this, this is gonna end, perhaps end all wars. There's a moment in the movie that I love which is when the genie's out of the bottle and Oppenheimer realises that he has no control over, of it when he comes and says to me: "Should I come to Washington?" and I look at him and I go: "Why?" And you just realise: 'Oh my God, they're done with him.'"

"Yeah."

"You know now, now this thing is a reality and it exists in the world and he, and he, he has no control over it. And yet in his own kind of innocent and beautiful way, you know, he was the only person who could've helped create it, but kind of of thought it might be a force for good and like, what a ridiculous thought in retrospect - but what a; you know it's - it's so tragic and so kind of beautifully human at the same time."

"Yeah. Uh-huh. Yeah, totally. Well I mean, we were kind of trying to play the kind of interior I suppose; you know it was - it was to internalize the performance a lot. I think that's what we were certainly trying to do and, you know, certainly with all those amazing close-ups that Chris uses with, on the IMAX camera. Yeah, but that's that - they're the brilliant characters, you know, the ones that have that huge complexity and ambiguity and contradictions and I don't know - we just kind of had to plot our way through it, particularly when you're shooting out of order as well. You know; trying to figure it all out, where he stood emotionally and morally at each point in the story, is very, very complex; certainly the most complex character I've ever approached."

"Yeah, you told us a few weeks ago that there was something he said, which I loved, about that he's a chess player and not a boxer."

"That was, that was, that was in a scene we had, remember that? That was early on, and I think I came in a bit heavy in that scene and you said to me: "Yeah Cill, he's not a - he's not a boxer, he's a chess player." That's just an example of one of the unbelievably brilliant, precise - "

"Which gives you total permission as an actor by the way -"

"Yeah."

" - to just let the entire thing come to you."

"But it just can turn a performance like, completely on it's axis."

"One sentence can just - yeah."

"Pretty good at that."

"Well that's very kind of you to say. But the thing about that; not shooting in order, and you having to figure out that puzzle for yourself -"

"Yeah."

" - and you know, I'm there on set, trying to gauge that for the audience, I'm just sort of some of the audiences' - "

"Yeah."

" - eyes on set, but it's really not until we get in the edit suite and sit there with Jen Lane who's cutting the film, and then we see what all of you've done and it starts to fit together, and you see the work that's gone in. Because I get to take that for granted when I work with people this good; they turn up to set, they do their thing - it seems simple, it often seems effortless, and then you get in the edit suite and you see how it relates to something an hour away in the film - and there's where you start to see the work that, that these guys have put in."

"Well Benny, I mean I, I called Paul Thomas Anderson - he, Benny had just done Licorice Pizza - and I'm a big fan of Benny as a director, and you know, I called Paul and was like, before I'd seen the film, you know: "What do you think?" And he's like: "He's the best; you'll - you'll love him." He was absolutely right and Benny, you know when I met Benny, it became clear that he had almost become a physicist. He literally had a moment in his life where he's like: 'It's physics or it's, you know, filmmaking.' And so this was sort of - "

"That worked out the best for all of us."

"No he's - he was fabulous but the, the thing I had done at the script stage is I had decided, it's a risk and, you know, I'm hoping the audience enjoys this - I didn't make composite characters so we have a lot of people; got a lot of young, new faces, we've got a lot of stuff going on, and you're trying to cast people with a particular energy that's memorable, and fits the character. And I've worked with my casting director John Papsidera since 'Memento', and so he's brilliant at just finding all kinds of choices. And I get in the room with actors, I try to cast in person not, you know, not doing it all remotely and everything, and you try to sort of feel the energy of those people. And you get, you know, somebody like Alden Ehrenreich who comes and, and - "

"Just brings so much to the film."

"Yeah, I think particularly kind of, at the you know, later on in the movie and during the hearings, I think his passive approach must've just infuriated her, and you see it infuriate her because there's a directness and a forcefulness to the character; and conviction. She's got real conviction about everything from drinking to, you know, being hard on him, and so I think that's where you see the storm of the relationship start to kind of build; but you see loyalty and the fight that she has for him and - I think she worshipped him. I think she thought he was incredible and yeah, I think those scenes have impact in the film because she's maybe one of the only people who will just say what everyone else wishes they could, you know?"

"That's; that's a hard thing to answer without giving away, giving away the tricks. The visual effects supervisor was the first person after Emma, my producer, that I showed the script to, because I said to him: "You know, I want you to take computer graphics off the table and think long and hard, you know, over a series of months, do some experiments and figure out ways in which we can show Oppenheimer's interior state; his visualizing of atomic behaviour, of quantum physics, and then carry that thread right the way through to its ultimate expression in the extreme beauty and terror of the Trinity test - the first time that human beings saw nuclear energy released in, in that form. And so we worked long and hard on some things that were very, very small and some things that were very, very big - and we got out there in that desert with these guys and you know, we, we went through our own sort of mini version of that Trinity test, where you're all out there in the desert in the middle of the night, in your bunkers very, very focused on what's going to happen and making sure that it's being done safely and carefully, but done on a, on a suitably grand scale."

"I call it N.A.R. - No Acting Required. You just show up, you put on your, your wardrobe and you go on out and yeah - enjoy the show."

"Yeah, I kind of agree with Matt. I think you just have to - I don't remember us talking very much on that, that evening or those few nights that we were out because you're aware of what this means and what actually went down, and how like, the world changed completely from what happened there. So again, it goes back to what I was saying earlier; it wasn't a kind of an intellectual approach, it was more of just like an emotional approach - because we all knew; I think everybody, when we were out there on those nights in the desert, kind of knew what we were portraying so -"

"You're also putting yourself in that head, that headspace - "

"Yeah."

" - that, that, the anxiety like of what must have been, I, I, I - the most profound anxiety, fear, you know, hope; ever, everything that they had riding on this. You know, it was years of their lives, it was billions of dollars like just - that's what Groves' thinking right? He's probably thinking about how much it cost, but you know, they're also thinking: 'Wait a minute - we might end civilization'."

"Yeah."

"I don't like to be too specific about these things - I'm not making a documentary or a didactic statement or sending a specific message. To me the most interesting cinematic stories, they involve you in the characters' dilemmas, they take you on that journey and then if those stories have something to them - and this is one of the great dramatic stories of, of all time I think - it leaves you with resonances; interesting questions, ways in which it interacts with our own lives and the way, you know, we live our lives and what we worry about and what we care about. But no, I don't want to be too specific about it, I wanna - it's more, as Cillian was saying earlier, it's more of an emotional approach than an intellectual approach. You have the research, you have the history of the facts of the story, but you want the audience to feel it and you want it to leave them with a set of sensations and feelings."

[cillianmurphysdimples]

A Female Y/N / Cillian fanfic (Part Sixty Nine)

Absolutely not based on anything real at all, all totally fictional, fanciful and is all total bollocks.

Warnings for sexual references and language. Adult themes. Not suitable for under 18s.

We Got Issues

Part Sixty Nine: Y/N and Cillian remain united despite their difficulties, and Clíodhna's presence is their glue. They delight in her small changes, and it keeps the worst of the worst at bay. But they discuss the small things that lead to big things, and promise to do better. A small leak in their privacy makes Y/N nervous, but Cillian knows Clíodhna's meant for good things. [Anxiety/Mentions of premature babies and care required/Sexual suggestion]

@cherrycilly @aesthetic0cherryblossom @meister95 @vivianleighwishesshewasme @watermeezer @strangeions @borntodiemp3 @lavender-haze-01 @meadowshelby

“Cill, look…” you whisper, though you're not sure why. Having been talking to one of the nurses, Cillian approaches and stands behind you. He places his hands on your shoulders, and looks over your right shoulder with his face close to yours. In perfect silence, standing beside the incubator, you watch as Clíodhna's tiny pink hand opens out a little, and then watch her draw her eyelids open slowly. Her eyes look like tiny, dark pools of midnight blue. Your granted glance at her eyes is fleeting as she closes them slowly again, but she flexes her tiny right hand once again, spidering out her little fingers. “She's so beautiful.” You whisper.

Cillian moves his hands from your shoulders, and for a moment you think he's closed himself off again. But he wraps his arms around your waist from behind you, and settles his palms gently against your healing stomach. “She is.” He says quietly, resting his chin down against your shoulder. “And they're going to keep a close eye on her to be getting that tube out. We'll be able to see her little mouth.”

You smile sadly, and you wonder if your thought is a strange one to have. “We’ll be able to hear her cry.” you frown at yourself. Turning your head a little to be able to see Cillian's face slightly where he rests on your shoulder. “Is that a sadistic thing to want to hear?”

He frowns and shakes his head without raising his chin. “No, because it's not that you want her to be upset, it's because it signifies that she's progressing. And it's her voice - of course you want to hear her.” He says, and you feel instantly validated that he understands your meaning. “She'll be yelling at us for grounding her before we know it.” He says, and you can hear the smile that tugs lightly at his lips.

You cup your hands over Cillian's against your waist. “I love you.” You say gently.

“I know,” he whispers. “I love you, too.”

“I'm really sorry.” You say, and as soon as the words leave your lips you can feel your chin begin to quiver. “I'm sorry I focus on things that my head makes up, I'm sorry I blame you for it, I'm sorry I can't accept my own blame.” You sigh. “I'm sorry I pushed you too far yesterday. I'm sorry I haven't done anything to try and help myself. The only things in my life worth anything are you and our girl. I don't want to hurt you, and I never want to hurt her. I know that I do though - that I hurt you, that I make it harder for you… I don't mean to. And I don't want to. I love you. I love you so much that my life has become wrapped up solely around you, and I don't think that's healthy for either of us. I want to love you this much, but I need to loosen the grip a little, and I need to find something outside of you. I have Clíodhna now, I know, but I mean something else. I need to find something, and I think before I do that I need to go back to therapy.”

Cillian adjusts his chin against your shoulder and turns his head to gently kiss your cheek. “Thank you.” He says quietly, his lips still close to your skin. “If you want to go back and see the therapist, I am right behind you. Okay? I'll back you the whole way. I love you so much, and when you find a way to help yourself, I'll help you do whatever it is you need to do to help yourself.” He says, his voice soft and hushed. “You'll always have me and this wee one here, you know that? We love you, and if you do what it takes, I'll be here doing what it takes, too.”

You take a deep breath and grip your fingers around his wrists, drawing them down. You turn and face him and he gives you a mild look of confusion. “I want us to get married as soon as we can.” You say, your eyes flicking side to side as you watch for his reaction. “Not without Clíodhna, but as soon as we can when she's stronger, when she's home. You, me, Clíodhna, your boys… your whole family if you want. As long as you still want to marry me.”

He cups his hands around your face as soon as you utter your final word. “Of course I want to marry you. I love you.” He pushes his lips firmly down against yours, and you realise it's the first actual kiss he's given you since he came home. It felt significant. You don't doubt he still feels a type of way, and you know that once you go home there'll be things to talk about, but it feels so good to know he wants to kiss you. He keeps his hands around your face as he breaks the kiss. “Y/N, I'll marry you wherever, whenever.” He says in such a soft tone it makes your eyes well up. “Hey, don't be crying.” He sticks out his bottom lip. “I know we've fucked up the last day or so, and I know you know how much your words hurt. But that hasn't made me stop loving you - Jesus, after seeing you the night Clíodhna came…” he shakes his head, “...you went through so much, and you're standing upright and apologising, and you're working on taking accountability, and making fucking plans for our life. Of course I still want to fucking marry you, you idiot.” He drops his hands from your face to instead wrap his arms around you, and he pulls you in close against him. “You made everything so much fucking better when we met, and you let me in when you didn't want to, and you've accepted my boys… things are rocky, but they're not damaged beyond repair, Y/N. You've given me this wee girl, and I can't even find the words to tell you how much that fucking means. I mean, look at her? She's amazing.” He squeezes his arms tighter. “We’ll fix the shit, alright? And we'll get married, and that little legend in there will be there to witness it.*

You sit back and watch and Chloe leads Cillian through a delicate nappy change for Clíodhna. He wanted to do it before the two of you leave for the evening, and you found yourself absolutely fascinated by the continuation of his gentle way with Clíodhna. He keeps looking up at you, turning down the corners of his mouth comically, and snaps back every time Chloe says anything. As he fastens the nappy close around her tiny waist, he gently places his hand over her slowly rising and falling belly. “Now, leanbh.” He whispers. “We'll be back first thing in the morning,” he tells her gently. “Okay? No surprises overnight now, missus, are you listening?”

Chloe smiles softly, “I'm sure if there's any surprises, they'll call you. But she's sailing along nicely. So go on, get yourselves home and rest for a while.”

You get to your feet as Cillian walks away from the incubator, and step closer to it so you can say goodnight. You don't say a word as you reach inside and gently take hold of Clíodhna’s tiny hand. You slide your thumb back and forth across her fingers and then let her go. You feel emotional tonight, more so than yesterday, and you're not sure why. Is it the anticipation of what Cillian has to say when you get home, or what the whole conversation might entail, or is it down to the rush of emotions over the last two days in general. As you turn away, you see Cillian pulling on his jacket and he softens his expression when he realises that you're crying.

“Don't be crying,” he says quietly, and opens out his arms. You instantly fold yourself against his chest, comforted by the way he wraps you up and the scent of him filling your nose. “We'll be back first thing, and if there's anything to worry about they'll call us.”

You nod your head, “I know. It's just been…a long couple of days.” You dismiss. He squeezes his arms around you and rests his chin on the top of your head.

“C’mon, we'll head home.” He rubs his left hand up and down your back, then taps gently against you. “Youse will call with any problems?” He checks with Chloe, and she nods her head immediately.

“We will, of course. Go on, go and get some rest. I'm not in tomorrow but Imelda and Sheena are so they'll be delighted to see you both, and see how much this one has got on since their last shift.” Chloe smiles. “Go on, don't be coming back here at an ungodly hour, now. Get some sleep, get some breakfast in the morning. And see what that does for your milk supply, Y/N,” she says kindly. You'd been fairly impressed with the repeated fifty millilitres you'd pumped again today, and she had been too.

“She'll be growing like a weed before we know it.” Cilillian says as he touches his hand against your shoulder. “Keep fuelling her like that, she'll definitely be in the All Ireland Finals.”

“Ah, you don't have her already down for camogie, do you?” Chloe laughs.

Cillian grins back at her as he draws his hand away from your shoulder, “Sure, what else?”

“Maybe she'll want be to a dancer, or a musician, or follow in your footsteps?” Chloe suggests.

“A little nepo baby?” You say, raising your eyebrows.

“Ah, sure, plenty of time for all that. And she can make county as a teen.* Cillian laughs. “C’mon,” he looks back at you and jerks his head. “Let's get home.”

Though he holds your hand as you walk, right up until the car, you don't speak much. It feels awkward at the same time as feeling comfortable, and you're not sure how to define it. He drives home in relative silence, too, with the car radio playing quietly. But his mood shifts a little when he answers his phone as he pulls the car to a halt on the driveway.

“Aran? Y'alright?” He asks, killing the engine. You undo your seatbelt but you don't get out of the car. “Ah, fuck, really? No, it's…it's alright, it's unavoidable I suppose. Yeah go on, I'll look at it. Yeah she's here… we're only after getting home. She's fine, son. Yeah.” He's smiling as he talks, but you can tell that the initial part of the conversation wasn't so bright and you think you can work out why. “I'll take a look. Grand, Aran. I'll see you tomorrow maybe, yeah? Night.”

As he hangs up the phone he turns to look at you, and you sigh. “There's something online isn't there, about Clíodhna?”

Cillian nods his head slowly, “Aran's sending it over, so we can look at it. He said it's not particularly detailed, just that it hints that the baby's here.” He holds up his phone as the message with the link Aran promised comes through. “We'll look at it inside?” He says.

You nod slowly, “Can we talk first?” You ask. “My anxiety is going to eat me alive if we don't talk soon.”

Cillian sighs softly, “We've said most of it by now. But yeah,” he nods, “We’ll talk, and fucking listen to one another, and then we don't drag one another through shit like this ever again.”

You smile sadly. “Never again.” You insist.

“C’mon, get your arse inside. We'll get a cuppa and get our heads straight, yeah? But just…whatever we go over, you have to fucking remember, I love you. I'm here, yeah? I'm going nowhere.” He says, and he's frowning. You know he knows you're finding it difficult to grasp onto that, despite the evidence he consistently gives. He reaches out and touches his hand down against yours, where they're wringing together in your lap. “Whatever the fuck your head is telling you isn't the truth, right? I love you, you fucking pissed me off but I love you. I'm going nowhere. I'm here for you, for Clíodhna, for our family. Right?”

You watch his hand over yours, feeling instantly calmer, and look up at him again. “Yeah, I know, love.” You nod slowly.

He smiles, but it's small. “C’mon - tea, lay all this to rest, and see what the fuck the internet thinks they know, eh?” He draws back his hand and climbs from the car. You follow suit, and drop onto the gravel noisily, and the stretching of your abdomen puts a little tension against your surgery site, making you wince. You follow behind him to the front door, and leave locking up and setting the alarm to him as he takes the task on anyway. Yet again, being home without your baby girl feels wrong. You make tea for you both and, for some reason, take a seat at the island stools rather than the sofa. You don't know why - it just feels right. With your mug before you, you give Cillian a soft smile as he frowns at your choice of location but sits on the stool opposite you and takes the waiting mugs gratefully. “Go on, ask your questions because I know they're swimming around in there.” He says, and while you can hear a slight edge to his voice his eyes are soft.

You shrug and take a deep breath. “You went to Yvonne's after…the hospital.” You say, “Was it to see her or to be with the boys?”

“The boys,” Cillian says immediately, swallowing a mouthful of tea down first. “She's going to be involved forever, Y/N, she's their mother, but I went there to be with my kids. You wouldn't let me back in near Clíodhna… I needed to…” he stammers.

“No, no it's okay. I get it.” You accept immediately. “I was a complete bitch and I wanted to hurt you, because you'd come in and you were…”

“I was being a wanker.” Cillian nods, “I know, I don't think I deserved what you gave out, but I know why you did it. You wanted to hurt me and you fucking succeeded, but you did it because I was being a prick.”

“Why did you come in like that, making comments like that, when you know it hurts?” You ask, shaking your head, but you're surprised at how well you manage to keep your tone level.

“Because I was being a prick.” He says again. “No other reason. You'd fucked me off and I wanted to fuck you off, and in return you damn near fucking ripped my balls off… I get it. We just know too well how to piss one another off, and we can't be doing it.”

“No, we can't.” You agree immediately. “But… you stayed, Cill. Why did you stay? Why didn't you come home?”

He shifts in the stool, then shrugs his shoulders, “I don't know,” he admits. “Yvonne came back, she made dinner… I was telling her and the lads about Clíodhna, next thing I know it's stupid o'clock in the morning and I'm on her sofa. She'd sent a text explaining you'd called and she answered it, and I rang you. There is nothing more in it. I felt like shit and I wanted to see my sons, and then I crashed out. I'm sorry.”

You shake your head. “No, no - when you explain it, it's all reasonable to expect, to understand. Just my…my head goes to the worst cases, to the most self-hating parts, and I can't help it.”

Cillian reaches his hand across the table and cups his fingers over your wrist. “I understand. It doesn't make it fecking easy, but I understand. But the biggest thing is we can't treat each other like this again. Me winding you up, and you using that wee girl against me… I can't cope, you can't do it, Y/N.”

You nod your head feverishly. “I know.” You try to hold off sobbing. “I'm sorry.”

“I know. I'm sorry too.” He nods firmly. “Don't be crying,” he says and slips down from the stool. He stands before you and immediately envelopes you in his arms. He's good at that - an all encompassing hug that sets the world back on its axis. He needs the touches, you know, but it fixes things for you, too, when he gives them. Knowing he wants to touch you, needs to touch you, reassures you things are okay. When he releases his arms, he cups his hands around your face and gives you a firm lipped kiss, holding your face still. “I love you, and I'm sorry, and I know you're sorry. And we've got to work together on this - our relationship, Clíodhna's health, yeah? That's the important shit.”

You nod your head in his hold. “I know,” you sniffle. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He whispers back, and then he plants another kiss, but this time he is passionate, gentle, and loving. It's not an apology kiss this time, it's loving. You snake your hands around onto his slim waist and hold tightly. He breathes heavily when he breaks the kiss and pushes his forehead hard against yours. “We don't go over this again, okay? It's done.”

You nod slowly. “Done.” You agree.

He kisses the top of your nose softly then breaks himself away, and you can see he's emotional when he takes a moment before he sits back down on the stool opposite you. But when he does, he draws out his phone. “C'mon, let's see what damage is done. At least we can work out how long it'll be before we start getting calls and texts from people asking questions.” He fiddles about on the phone for a moment then draws up the link Aran has sent to him. “Right… eh, oh it's an Irish site…” he mumbles. “There's a picture of you and me leaving the hospital, and it says… ‘Cillian Murphy and fiancée Y/N were seen leaving the Rotunda in the late evening after being spotted entering says before. Sources who wish to remain anonymous claim that the couple’s baby girl was delivered via C-section over eight weeks earlier than expected and is currently being cared for in the neonatal ICU…’.” He looks up at you and shrugs. “I mean, it could be worse.” He shakes his head.

“This is the part I hate.” You admit.

He nods his head, “Yeah, me too. But they know nothing. And if important people are in touch that for whatever reason we haven't told yet, then we be honest, but otherwise… it's nobody's business, Y/N.” He shakes his head. “We focus on getting her to where she needs to be. Let the world say and do as they fucking like.”

You sigh and close your eyes, feeling like the world is heavier than it should be. “I just want her to be strong enough to bring her home.”

“She's getting there.” Cillian says earnestly. “She's a little rebel, that girl. She's a fucking fighter. She's going to change the fucking world somehow, just you watch.”

Opening your eyes, it takes a moment for you to make sense of your surroundings. It's early morning, and Cillian is in the bed beside you, but it's in those few moments of making sense of things that you realise what is going on. Cillian's breathing is a little laboured, and then you realise that he seems to be taking matters into his own hands - matters you'd not even thought about for days. You are lying with your back to him, and his left hand is resting against your hip whilst you're fairly certain that his right hand is gripped tightly around his penis. You don't want to embarrass him - it wouldn't be the first time he has done this, nor would it be something you'd want to make a big deal out of - but at the same time, you half wonder why he didn't at least lay the moves on to see how far you felt like going before he did it himself. True, you have no desire for sex - you're still bleeding lightly and sex is very far from your mind - but you're not unwilling to lend your hands should he want them, and it bothers you just a little that he hasn't asked. It's tempting to move and let him know you're awake, but you don't want to cause a problem where one needn't be. So, you lie still and wait for either confirmation that what you think is happening is happening by the act of it finishing, or for something else to occur. You hear his breathing change a little, and his left hand pushes down against your hip a little harder, followed by the sound of him moaning ever so slightly in a high pitched sigh. You were right - and again, you wonder why he didn't at least try to initiate something, something you would have gladly provided in some way. In a way, it's flattering - he's touching you whilst he's touching himself, and that's somewhat sexy. But it feels a bit weird, too. As he draws his hand back from you, you keep still. You keep your eyes closed as he leaves the bedroom and only open them when he returns five minutes later. His cheeks are red, and he smiles at you softly.

“Sorry, did I wake ya?” He whispers into the just light bedroom.

You shake your head in the pillow, “No, it's okay.” You resolve to say nothing, and to maybe just instigate something ‘handsy’ at a later point to quietly show him it's alright to ask. “Sleep okay?” You ask him and follow him with your eyes as he walks back around the bed and climbs in on his side.

He nods his head and takes a deep breath, “Not bad. You?”

You turn down the corners of your mouth. “Dreaming a lot.” You admit.

“Bad?” He asks as he snuggles down beside you and wraps his arm around your waist. He places his hand against your belly gently, then moves it in a second thought, seeming to remember he should be more delicate. He hadn't hurt you, but you appreciate the kindness.

“No, not really. Just vivid.” You say. “About Clíodhna grown up, at one point. She was just like you but she had this big load of curly dark hair,” you laugh lightly. “And she smiled like Aran.”

Cillian chuckles, “Probably premonitions… she already looks a bit like him.”

“She's all you,” you say softly, “That little nose, what we can see if her little mouth… God, she's like you reborn. I wonder if she'll be all freckled like you are.”

He chuckles again, “Ah don't wish that on her.”

“Stop it,” you say, turning awkwardly in his arms to lie face to face. “Your freckles are beautiful - all over your face, and your arms, and your back…” you smile. “It'll be just as beautiful if she has them too. I want her to have them!” You smirk, “All over her face, all over the place. Just like you.”

“Is it not bad enough for the wee thing she looks like me?” He laughs quietly.

You shake your head and move your face closer to his. You steal a kiss, all morning breath and squashed noses, then smile. “I'm glad she looks like you - Clíodhna Murphy, daughter of esteemed actor Cillian Murphy…” you laugh lightly. “And doesn't she look just like him!”

“If being my daughter is what follows and defines her her whole life, then we've done something wrong.” He says. He reaches his hand up and cups it over your left cheek. “You seem happier,” he says in a quiet tone. “It's lovely.”

“Things don't feel as heavy.” You admit. “I mean, I'm still petrified something is going to happen, that something is going to hurt her… but it feels further away.” You explain in a whisper.

.

“I know, it's scary seeing her all wired up like that. It's scary that she's even here.” He says, and you see his eyes flash something you're not sure of. “But she's so strong, isn't she? She's fighting so fucking hard to be here.” You snuggle down the bed a little and wind yourself in against his chest. He's warm and comfortable, and he immediately encases his arms around you. “She's amazing, and you're coping so much better than I would have expected. I know things have been difficult, I'm sure they're gonna be difficult again, but you're strong for her and that's fucking amazing. She's amazing, you're amazing…” he gushes. It makes your throat tighten to hear the love in his voice, to hear the emotion in his tone; you feel anything but amazing, but you feel stronger than you ever imagined you could be, and that is amazing.

[birthdaysentiment]

love the new look on your side blog ❤️❤️ (hope it is okay that I write this to you on tour main blog). have a nice day cille ❤️❤️

aww thank you anon! that’s so sweet of you to say. i needed a change and then i found that picture with the leaves, so i went with that and sobbe’s hands too, because you know i'm never not thinking about them lol. and of course it’s okay, you’re always welcome to write to me on my main blog. i'm wishing you the most wonderful day anon! ✨

[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part 18)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity

Over the next week, and whilst you stayed with Cillian at his house, he found you a three-bedroom terrace right down the street from his property. 

The place was perfect - spacious rooms, high ceilings, and a modern interior design and, whilst you felt uncomfortable knowing that Cillian had spent an absorbent amount of money on this property for you to live in, you knew that it was the best decision for your unborn child.

The thought of having a home of your own was comforting and the fact that the house was already vacant put your mind at ease, meaning that you could move in right away. 

Thus, within less than a week, you moved all of your very few belongings to your very own home and Cillian worked tirelessly to assist you with your move, ensuring that your transition to the new house was seamless.

"You're making this way too easy for me," you commented lightly, watching him maneuver a particularly heavy box with ease while your best friend Emma followed suit, rolling your suitcases into the master bedroom.

"Holy shit, that's nice," she said appreciatively when she stumbled into your new bedroom, running her fingers along the plush leather headboard of the king-sized bed. "I would be more than happy to become your live-in nanny," she joked playfully, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

"That's tempting," you admitted sheepishly, biting your lower lip. "But I don't want to impose on any of you for much longer, I promise," you insisted earnestly, casting your gaze downward shyly.

"Don't be silly," Emma scolded affectionately, patting your shoulder reassuringly. "You are my best friend and always will be," she smiled warmly, her eyes glistening with love while Cillian brought in yet another box, overhearing the conversation between you, and Emma who could not help but to bring up the most recent confrontation you had with your mother when you attempted to collect some of your clothes from Frank's house.

"Think about it though Y/N, since your mother has officially disowned you now, you could use all the help you can get when Mr Hot Shot here is going on press tour next year. You want to start university in a few weeks. You will have exams and work-prac coming up and an au-pair or something similar might really be an option for you," Emma told you, seeing that you were due to give birth just before next years' award season. 

"Her mother might still come around," Cillian interjected optimistically, placing the last box gently on the floor. "And even if she does not, I will be here as much as I can be to support Y/N and our daughter," Cillian told Emma comfortably and whilst Emma appreciated all the effort he was putting into this arrangement, she remained somewhat skeptical. 

"I doubt that she will be coming around" you mumbled under your breath, unable to meet either Cillian's or Emma's eyes. You too were skeptical and knew that your mother hated you for what you did to the family. "Despite, she pretty much made it clear to me that she will never consider this baby to be her grandchild, so I really do not want her around my daughter even if she was to offer," you confessed despondently, feeling the sting of rejection surge through you once more.

"She's just angry and hurt Y/N," Cillian consoled you, reaching out to squeeze your arm reassuringly. "Give her some time, maybe she'll see reason," he encouraged tentatively, hoping to restore your faith in your mother's ability to change her mind.

"Whatever Cills," you sighed heavily, a single tear trickling down your cheek. "It won't happen," you told him dejectedly, your voice breaking slightly.

"Well, if it doesn't, then it would be her loss," Cillian reassured you firmly, reaching out to brush a damp strand of hair from your forehead tenderly. "You will be just fine without her," he added, his eyes brimming with love and empathy. 

"I know will be..." you trailed off, biting your lower lip nervously. "But still, I wish she could see past her anger towards me long enough to realize that she is going miss out on the opportunity to welcome her own grandchild into the world," you confessed softly, your voice quivering slightly.

"Y/N, I suppose the fact that you are having a child with her husband's brother is a difficult notion for her to grasp though, don't you think?" Emma surmised, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "I mean, how could she possibly come to terms with the reality of your relationship?" she pondered aloud, her tone laced with caution.

"Point taken Em, but I always figured that a mother's love is unconditional," Cillian told your friend reluctantly, his gaze fixed on you intently. "But anyway, let's just focus on getting Y/N settled in here, shall we?" he suggested diplomatically before taring open some boxes, which is when you reminded him of his appointment with his lawyer and sister Siobhan.

"Mediation is at 3 o'clock, Cillian," you reminded him kindly, biting your lower lip apprehensively. "I suppose you should leave soon," you added, a hint of concern clouding your expression.

"Yeah, I know," Cillian sighed, his gaze fixated on the piles of boxes strewn across the floor. "I'll be sure to let you know how it goes afterwards and then I will be back to help you unpack," he promised, his voice laced with concern.

"I'm sure everything will be fine," you reassured him softly, reaching out to squeeze his hand affectionately, knowing that, following your testimony three days ago, Max was removed from Danielle's care, simply due to the physical aggression she had shown towards you.

Max was now staying with his grandmother in Cork until an agreement was made between Danielle and Cillian and, with Cillian being diplomatic, he had proposed a shared custody agreement which Danielle was yet to sign. 

"She will sign the shared parenting agreement. She will have no choice," you reassured Cillian gently, your voice laced with confidence.

"I hope so, because none of this is fair on Max. He is only a child and does not understand what is going on," Cillian replied, his brow furrowed deeply as he reached for his jacket.

"I promise to call you later," he informed you, kissing your forehead tenderly as he walked out the door, leaving you and Emma alone.

As Cillian drove to the law firm where he had scheduled his mediation session, anxiety pulsed through his veins as he wondered whether his ex-wife would agree to his proposal.

Danielle had been unwilling to negotiate thus far, instead insisting that he should have full custody of Max, but he hoped that his patience and diplomacy would eventually pay off.

He pulled up to the parking lot outside the building where the mediation session was held and parked his car.

As he exited his vehicle, he paused briefly, his thoughts racing with uncertainty. Would today be the day that he finally regained custody of his son? Or would Danielle continue to obstruct his efforts, forcing him to resort to legal procedures? He inhaled deeply, steadying himself before he stepped toward the entrance of the building.

Inside, the lobby was bustling with people, all busy chatting and gesturing animatedly. He spotted Siobhan sitting quietly in a corner, nursing a cup of coffee.

She raised her eyebrows curiously and gave him a small smile. "Ready?" she asked him in a low voice, setting her half-empty mug aside carefully.

"As ready as I can be," Cillian muttered under his breath, offering her a weak smile. He could sense the tension radiating from her body as she rose from her seat gracefully, smoothing out her skirt with a practiced gesture. Siobhan held out her hand to lead him upstairs, where the mediation room awaited them.

Cillian reluctantly followed her, his stomach churning uneasily. His thoughts raced frantically, filled with images of Max and memories of the times they used to spend together, laughing and playing games. The idea of losing his beloved son weighed heavily upon his shoulders, and he clung desperately to the hope that today would mark a turning point in his life.

Once inside the mediation room, they sat across from Danielle, who scrutinized them coolly. Her gaze flicked between Cillian and Siobhan, her expression unreadable. The mediator readied herself, explaining the process in a measured voice.

"Today, we gather to resolve the dispute concerning the custody of Max," she began, her gaze sweeping over the trio. "Since you've both agreed to mediation, I trust that you're willing to reach a peaceful resolution. Let's begin with a brief overview of the situation," she continued, her voice ringing with authority.

Siobhan cleared her throat, her gaze flickering nervously between her brother and Danielle.

"I believe Cillian is asking for joint custody, correct?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly.

"Correct," Siobhan confirmed, her gaze sweeping over to her brother.

"Danielle, is that acceptable to you?" the mediator then posed her question, addressing Danielle directly.

Danielle hesitated, her gaze piercing like daggers as she studied Cillian. "I suppose so," she relented, her words dripping with resentment. "But I don't want this whore of a woman he cheated with on me anywhere near my son," she spat, glaring at Cillian who had cheated on her with you.

"Please ma'am, watch your language," the mediator cautioned sternly, observing the hostility simmering in the air. "Let's focus on finding a solution here without insulting one another," she added, her tone firm and unwavering before seeking some clarification on the circumstances surrounding Danielle's comment and reading the court transcript from three days ago, which ultimately led the judge to refer this matter to mediation. 

"Preventing Y.N to be around Max will be impossible," Siobhan then reasoned calmly after the mediator got a grasp of the facts and surrounding circumstances. 

"And may I ask why?" Danielle ought to question Siobhan angrily before the mediator reiterated the question. 

"Miss Murphy, please explain to us why preventing Y/N from being around your client's son would be impossible. By what I understand, Y/N does not live with your client nor is he currently romantically involved with her," the mediator stated, her gaze resting on Siobhan expectantly.

"That is correct. However, Y/N is currently pregnant with my client's child," Siobhan answered cautiously, her gaze flickering between her brother and Danielle. "So, it would be quite difficult to completely shield Max from Y/N, who, I believe, will also co-parent her daughter with my client once she is born," she added, her voice trailing off uncertainly.

Danielle shot to her feet, her face contorting into a mask of outrage.

"Oh my god," she gasped, her voice cracking with disbelief. "This is just disgusting," she seethed, pointing an accusing finger at Cillian. "I can't believe you would stoop so low as to knock her up," she raged, her words slicing through the air like knives.

Cillian's gaze met hers, his expression grim and resolute. "Well, clearly, it wasn't intentional," he murmured hoarsely, his voice barely audible. 

"God, I would hope so. How old is she again?" Danielle sneered spitefully, directing her question at Siobhan. She didn't bother looking at Cillian; her gaze remained cold and distant.

Siobhan hesitated, but Cillian did not. "She is old enough to act more mature than you do," he retorted sharply, his gaze unwavering as he handed Danielle the pen.

"Now, would you please sign the agreement so that we can finally move on from this. Max does not deserve to suffer from this unnecessary drama anymore," Cillian spoke firmly, passing the paper over to Danielle.

Their eyes locked for a moment, filled with silent accusation and pain.

"Fine," Danielle gritted through gritted teeth, signing the document hastily before thrusting it back at Cillian. "Just remember," she warned darkly, her gaze narrowing dangerously. "I will ensure that you regret ever crossing paths with this little slut," she snarled, her voice dripping with venom. "Max will know what you did, breaking his family apart like this," she finally said and Cillian gripped the table tightly, his knuckles whitening as he struggled to contain his rage.

"Please," he pleaded, his voice shaking with suppressed anger. "Can we just put our differences aside for the sake of Max?" he implored, glancing pleadingly at the mediator, who watched the unfolding drama warily.

"He is a child, for fuck sake. He does not need to be dragged into this," Cillian argued vehemently, his grip tightening on the table.

"I think you are just afraid that he will reject you once he learns exactly what kind of man you truly are," Danielle went on to say, her gaze fixing on Cillian accusingly.

Cillian's hands balled into fists, his knuckles white with rage. He opened his mouth to respond, but his words caught in his throat as he struggled to suppress his mounting anger.

"Enough," he finally managed, his voice strained and tight. "I won't allow you to drag our son into this mess," he growled, his gaze boring into her. "We both know that he deserves better," he added, his voice thick with emotion.

Danielle stared at him, her anger and resentment simmering beneath the surface. But despite her desire to retaliate, she knew that she had pushed things far enough. With a huff, she crossed her arms defiantly.

"I think we are done here," Siobhan interjected, her gaze darting between her brother and Danielle warily. "You two need to sort out your bitter feelings towards one another. This isn't healthy for Max," she reasoned reasonably, rising from her chair deliberately.

"Cillian will pick Max up from Cork tomorrow. He will stay with him for the first four days before spending the next three days with Danielle pursuant to the parenting agreement," Siobhan explained, her gaze darting between her brother and Danielle.

"Thanks, sis," Cillian murmured gratefully, squeezing her hand reassuringly, his eyes reflecting relief that the custody battle was finally over. "At least there is some peace," he added, a hint of bitterness lingering in his voice.

"Yes," Siobhan echoed, her gaze flickering between Cillian and Danielle warily. "Now that we have finally reached an agreement, let's try to make the best of this situation and focus on Max's wellbeing," she implored, her voice trembling slightly.

Cillian nodded, his gaze locking onto Danielle's icy stare before she stood up and walked out of the room without saying a word.

He released a shaky breath, his grip loosening on the table as he felt the weight of the tension lifting from his shoulders. Siobhan squeezed his hand sympathetically, her understanding gaze speaking volumes of the turmoil he had endured during the custody battle.

"Come on," she murmured kindly, leading him outside the building. "We can celebrate the end of this hellish nightmare with a drink," she added, her voice trembling slightly.

Cillian's heart swelled with gratitude. "Thank you, Siobhan," he whispered, grasping her hand tightly.

"I honestly don't know what I would have done without you," he admitted, his voice cracking slightly.

Siobhan shook her head, her gaze filled with compassion. "No big deal, brother dear," she replied gently, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. "After all, I am your sister," she added, smiling softly. "But seriously, Cillian," she began, her voice taking on a serious tone. "What happened between you and Y/N is really fucked up," she asserted, her gaze meeting his squarely. "How could you sleep with Frank's stepdaughter?" she questioned him pointedly, her words cutting through the silence like a knife.

"I honestly don't know Siobhan. I was in a bad place at the time. My marriage was at breaking point and the thrill of the taboo and forbidden excited me," Cillian explained before trying to further justify his actions. "I know I shouldn't have done it and I don't know what lead me to pursuing her. Curiosity? Lust? Boredom? All of those, probably. I wanted to feel alive again – and she certainly helped me achieve that. The problem now? The consequences. She's carrying my child and my marriage ended, so yes. I fucked up," Cillian confessed painfully, his voice shaking slightly. "But I cannot deny that, regardless of the circumstances, I do care for Y/N," he admitted, his gaze locking onto Siobhan's sympathetic eyes. "It might not be love, but there is definitely something there," he admitted, his voice wavering slightly.

Siobhan's gaze softened, her eyes reflecting understanding. "Look, Cillian," she sighed, reaching out to lay a comforting hand on his elbow.

"I understand that you're feeling overwhelmed right now, but you need to think about what you're doing. This girl is half your age, and she shouldn't be having that child," Siobhan urged, her voice filled with concern. "The entire family is falling apart because of this," she lamented, her eyes reflecting sadness. 

"Siobhan, I honestly don't know what to tell you," Cillian responded, his grip tightening on the table. "All I know is that I want her to have this child. I want to raise my daughter with her," Cillian declared passionately, his voice echoing with determination. "And whatever obstacles stand in our way, I am sure we will overcome them," he vowed vehemently, his gaze fixated on Siobhan.

Siobhan shook her head, her eyes filled with worry. "Cillian, I don't mean to sound harsh, but you're making a huge mistake," she sighed, her voice trembling slightly. "This girl is young, naive, and vulnerable. What happens when she realizes she's made a terrible mistake?" Siobhan pressed, her voice laced with concern. "You can't deny that this whole situation is complicated beyond belief," she insisted, her gaze holding steady on Cillian.

"Look, Siobhan," Cillian murmured evenly, his voice betraying a hint of impatience. "I fully appreciate your concerns, but we slept together and we made this decision together, it's our choice," he asserted firmly, his gaze holding steady on Siobhan. 

"Okay, well, being your sister, I will support your decision, even if I think it is wrong. 

But know that you are walking on thin ice and I can warn you that things will get worse before they get better," Siobhan cautioned, her gaze darting between Cillian and the exit. "For now, let's go and grab a drink, shall we?" she suggested, her voice taking on a lighter tone.

Cillian nodded, his gaze shifting to the horizon thoughtfully. "Yeah, I could use a drink," he murmured, his voice filled with resignation and, with that, they made their way to a bar nearby. 

Tags:

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[peakyscillian]

The Forgiveness | The Date Series

Summary: Cillian arrives home - Eden gets a chance to feel more human & Cill knows he needs to make things up to her. Warnings: Smut - Cill has some making up to do! 18+, NSFW, Sexual Content, Mature Themes, Minors DNI, Unprotected Sex - Cill doesn't know how wrap up! Request: No Part: Twenty-One Updated: 24.04.25

The Forgiveness | Part Twenty - One

Masterlist | TDS Masterlist The Forgiveness - Part Twenty-One

Eden hoisted the car seat out of its holder, Ophelia happily wriggling away under her blanket, for the first time in a week she had settled through a coffee date with Orla. She felt semi-human after a good night's sleep and a chat with another adult. Although she was still trying to ignore Cillian, apart from a few texts checking in, she wasn’t that heartless. They both hadn’t said much to each other.Her plan was to get Ophelia to bed, soak in a bubble bath and call Cillian to finally talk things through.

She missed him, and deep down she knew he was trying his best but being overly tired and emotional, meant she had seen it as something completely different.

She locked up the car, the changing bag over her shoulder. She unlocked the front door and went about the motions of getting everything set down.

Eden hadn’t paid attention to the suitcase by the stairs, the addition of suede boots by the doormat, far too interested in her smiling daughter gurgling in her seat. Cillian stepped into the lounge with a towel over his shoulder and the joke apron she had got him for valentines day on, shocked her, a muffled scream left her mouth as she finally registered it was Cillian and not some intruder.

“Hey baby” he spoke softly, slowly stepping towards her. Eden checked Ophelia was still settled before she let him engulf her in his arms, pressed to his chest she felt overcome with emotion. “I’m so mad at you” Eden sighed, looking up at him “I love you but I’m so mad” Cillian nodded, pressing a kiss to the top of her head “I know, Im sorry, love you” Eden stepped out of his embrace, she had thought so many times in the past week what to say to him but now he was here in front of her, she just wanted him to hold her and tell her he was never leaving them again.

Right on queue Ophelia wailed from her carseat, her eyes locked on Cillian, he smiled. She could see his heart melting at the sight of her, he was over to her in an instant, unclipping and scooping her out of her seat.

His nose nudging against hers “What's all this noise, eh? Have you been keeping your mammy awake?” he teased. She bared her gums at him in some form of a smile, the lone tooth that had pushed through at the front on display, Cillian laughed lightly at the sight.

“I’m cooking for us, I’m here, go do what you need, have a bath, sleep whatever” he was still speaking in a cautious tone towards her. Eden nodded “This doesn’t mean I forgive you” she made sure she was clear with that statement.

He nodded letting her gather up all the things she needed to take upstairs, watching her as she left the room.

*** Eden had dragged herself from the most heavenly bath, changed into the new pyjama’s Cillian had left on the bed, making her way back downstairs. She stopped outside the kitchen, she could hear Cillian chatting away to Ophelia.

“Just need to make things up to your mama, been a bit silly” “Home cooked food is a good way isn’t it, huh?” “how would you like to come to England?”

She opened the door, the kitchen smelt amazing food bubbling on the hob, Ophelia was in her highchair a bowl of mushed up food in front of her, on her face, the bib anywhere but her mouth. “I hope it was okay to give her some food” Cillian watched her, Eden smiled “Cillian you’re her dad you can do whatever you think she needs” “I haven’t been here, I feel so lost” he looked unsure, she stepped towards him, arms around his waist “You’re doing fine, we just need you around” she whispered. His hands were on her arms, stroking her soft skin “I know, I’ve been an idiot” “It’s fine, we can talk later” Eden reached up to brush a light kiss across his lips, he finally smiled and she could sense the worry leaving his body. Cillian handed her a glass of wine, getting her to sit down at the table next to Ophelia, she picked up a cloth to wipe away some of the orange mush on her face and hands. The silence in the kitchen was comfortable, both of them settled to be near each other again. **

Ophelia had settled for the night straight away, Cillian had laid her in her crib, stayed for a few moments and then joined Eden back in the lounge. She was shocked to see him back so soon, Ophelia hadn’t been settling and now her daddy was home she was good as gold. “Behaving for you” She joked, as he sat next to her taking the glass of wine she was offering him. “We’ll see” he smiled, leaning in for a kiss, which she happily returned.

“I’ve spoken to Steve, I need to be back in a few days but I’m taking you two with me” He sat back against the sofa. Eden had turned her body towards him as he pulled her into his side.“Cill, you don’t need Ophelia’s bad sleep schedule waking you up when you have long days” she sighed, placing her wine glass on the coffee table.

“I want you both there, I’ve hated the past few weeks we’ve been so annoyed with each other, you’ve been struggling on a few hours sleep. I want to get up in the middle of the night and see our daughter to get her back to sleep. I want to come home after a long day, help you bath her and put her to bed. I’m her dad I should be there” he was stroking his thumb over her wrist.

“I want to be there for you as your husband, I want to come home to you” he finished, she was biting gently at her lip nodding.

“Okay, yes okay” Eden smiled, letting him pull her onto his lap.

-

Cillian was smothering her face with kisses, his wine glass discarded on the coffee table next to hers, as he pushed her back on the sofa, his body against hers, settled between her legs, hands pushing under her top.

“Fuck, missed you” he sighed, forehead against hers. His hands were stroking over her body, finally settling on her hips “Sorry for being such a dick” he added as Eden reached up to kiss him, her hips pressing against his “You can make it up to me” she smirked, he didn’t need to be told twice, her top was off in seconds, he’d wriggled her bottoms down her legs. Head between her thighs, a delighted smile on his face as his gaze dragged over her naked on the sofa, legs slightly parted. “I plan on it, darling” he dropped his head, lips making contact with the skin of her thighs, he moved her legs over his shoulders. Hands spreading her open for him, his tongue licking lightly against your exposed hole, dragging up to her clit, sucking it between his lips making her moan. Cillian pulled her hips towards him, his face buried in between her legs, mouth on her cunt, nose nudging against her clit making her hips roll towards him. “Fuck, Cillian, please” Eden was a writhing mess on the sofa, could feel her pussy contracting around nothing.

Cillian slid two fingers easily into her pussy, curling upwards, her head falling back against the sofa cushions.“yes, there, Cill” she moaned, she’d been so worked up so frustrated by the sensation of his fingers inside her, his tongue teasing at her was making her dizzy. “So good for me” His fingers were pounding into her, her hips rocking down to fuck against them. “Please, fuck let me cum, Cill please” she was trying to hold out but the burning in her stomach had other ideas.

Cillian ignored her at first, his mouth licking and sucking every inch of her cunt, his fingers dragging slowly inside her.  “Look at me” he instructed, she lifted her head from the sofa, eyes locked with his. “Cum for me darling, let me taste you” he rasped head diving back down, Cillian licked everything she offered him, leaving his fingers settled inside her until the flutters of her walls stopped around them.

-

The cries from Ophelia’s nursery pulled them into reality, Cillian stood up from the sofa, he made his way to her room. Eden was trying to catch her breath, she hadn’t had such an intense orgasm in months, her body still pulsing.

Cillian appeared moments later “Lost her dummy, went straight back to sleep” he looked so smitten as he spoke about her. Eden smiled, getting off the sofa, wrapping herself around her husband, lips feverishly kissing across his t-shirt covered chest.

She pushed him back until he was sitting on the sofa, she was on the floor naked between his legs, her fingers undoing the fastening on his jeans, eyes locked on his as you licked at your lips. “I’ve got some making up to do as well” she purred, hands sliding over his semi-hard cock covered by his tight black Calvin Kleins. His hips jerked up as she teased him, finally curling her fingers in the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down his legs adding them to the pile of clothes on the floor. Eden moved back up his body, breasts grazing over his cock as she pushed his t-shirt up and over his head, lips brushing with his, licking into his mouth, pressing her body against him. She pulled away, taking a moment to commit this sight of him to memory, his body less angular for Tommy, his cock sitting hard between his legs, she ran her hands up his thighs, getting back into position between his legs, fingertips brushing over his cock, watching as he twitched under her touch, she finally curled her hand around his length, giving him a squeeze before she guided him towards her open mouth. Cillian hissed as her lips made contact with his tip, curling her tongue around the head, licking the precum away. “Jayus fucking christ” he sighed hands in her hair, tugging at the strands. She smirked against his cock, his accent a few shades darker with his arousal. Eden started moving her head, mouth trailing up and down his shaft, her tongue dragging along the length, teeth grazing along his base, licking her way back up, sinking back down this time she swallowed him down to the back of her throat,

The pressure of his hand on her head, spurred her on, not forcefully but a guidance that he was enjoying what she was doing. With a slight gag she kept him there, letting his hips slowly push up towards her. “look at you taking it all back, fuck” he cursed, as she let him fall from her mouth, a trail of pre-cum and spit attached to her lips.

She was pumping at him, wrist flicking, hand squeezing as she kept his head in her mouth before popping off “Going to cum in my mouth Cill?” She asked, fluttering her lashes at him.

“Yes fuck, yes please” he groaned his hand covering hers as she opened her mouth, he helped her stroke him to his edge, his cum landing on her cheeks in her mouth, she licked and swallowed it all.

-

Eden's gaze never left his as she stood up, straddling his thighs, his hands on her arse as she rocked her hips down on him, moments later he was hard again.

“Need this huh?” She teased, hand wrapped around his base giving him a gentle squeeze, before he helped her lift herself up and over his cock. “Fuck, haven't stopped thinking about it” he smirked, she pressed her forehead against his.

They both moaned out as she sunk down on him, his cock stretching every inch of her cunt. “Made for me, I swear you were, look at your pretty cunt taking all of me” he sighed, hands squeezing at her thighs. She lowered her gaze to take in the view, he was fully bottomed out inside her. “fuck me” she whimpered, moving her hips to circle around him.Cillian smiled, pushing her hair from her face “Shush, got you baby” he soothed. 

His hand on the back of her neck, bringing her lips to his as he pushed his hips from the sofa to start moving inside her. Eden's breath caught in her throat, lips still on his, hands on his shoulders as she moved herself up off him in time with his thrusts.

Cillians hands had slipped down to her hips, helping her move on him, his hips thrusting up into her as he pulled her flush against his thighs, filling her fully once more.

Eden rocked against him, he was holding her down, the feeling of her rolling her hips, every clench tugging her walls against his cock, her lips parted breathy whimpers leaving her mouth.“Feel so tight riding me like this, fuck you’re so good for me, going to fill you up darling” he was stumbling over his words, eyes closed as he felt the first small flutters of her cunt around him.

“Going to take it all Cill, please” her eyes opened, meeting his, Cillian smirking “too late to check you're still on the pill?” he chuckled lightly. Eden rolled her eyes playfully, biting at her lip, moving to press her lips to his in a hard kiss, “you think I'm up for another baby right now?” She rocked her hips once again, his hands were tweaking at her nipples, stroking over her breasts making her whine.

Cillian was pounding himself up into her, his finger made contact with her clit. He was working small circles around it, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger “going to fill your pretty cunt” he rasped lips by her ear “I’ve got you darling”

“Please, please” she nodded chest heaving, she was grinding down on him, walls clenching around his cock as he continued to drive his hips upwards. his face buried in the crook of her neck, breathy moans leaving parted lips, as she pulsed against him, her name rolling from his mouth as he filled her with cum. Cillians fingers still teasing at her clit as she finally let go, her body shuddering falling against him as her orgasm washed over her. “Maybe we should fight more often” Cillian smiled as she lifted your head from his shoulder, throwing him a look “Don’t even think of it Murphy” she warned sliding from his lap.Grabbing the wine glasses from the coffee table, she made her way to the lounge doorway “are you joining me or is the jacuzzi bath going to go to waste?” She threw a look over her shoulder. Cillians eyes travelled over her naked body, he was off the sofa in seconds, hands grabbing for her “and you thought keeping the jacuzzi bath would be a stupid idea” he teased, picking her up and carrying her to the ensuite.

He really did have some making up to do. - Taglist @missymurphy1985 @heidimoreton @cloudofdisney @janelongxox @queenshelby @being-worthy @elenavampire21 @datewithgianni @magicalpieex @uchihacumdump @anotherhitandrun @alreadybroken-ts @vhscillian @otterly-fey @inkandpen22 @pocket-of-possibilities @radioheadgirl @ysmmsy @lovemissyhoneybee @lyarr24

[missymurphy1985]

The Mistake - Part 6 (Cillian Murphy X fem!reader)

Warning - angsty

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton @jardinsecos @bitchwhytho @gypsy-girl-08

It was on one of these lunch dates, that the subject they had avoided for so long came back up again.

Months had gone by. You'd been close to sending him a text a few times, but a news article popped up not long after he returned to London - a photo of him with his arm around a woman's shoulders, both looking happy and smiling... You took that as your sign that it wasn't meant to be, and to move on.

No one had any idea what had gone on between you both - and that's how it would stay.

Focussing instead on Leah and Paddy's new baby, due in a few months. You'd loved watching Leah becoming a mum, going baby shopping with her, getting misty eyed over prams, cots and sleepsuits, and regular lunch dates now Leah was on maternity leave.

"You know Cillian is moving back to Ireland?"

"Is he really?" You asked, as blank faced as possible.

You gulped. He was going to be at the baby shower... That you'd organised.. and would obviously be attending.

"Yeah. He misses being home, and with his nephew so close to arriving, I think it's made him homesick. He's coming to the baby shower next week and then he's househunting."

"Y/n, you okay?"

"Yes, sorry, coffee went down the wrong way!" You laughed it off, hoping she believed you.

"Right come on - Mothercare and home. My back is killing me!" She gathered up her handbag and you grabbed the shopping bags before heading back out to Cork high street.

************************************************************

God were you nervous.

Putting the final touches to the decor in the function room of your local pub, you were ready for the guests to arrive.

Most of them anyway.

You couldn't escape this - you were baby Murphy's aunt and godmother, and you'd organised the shower. Crying off would have been a mistake. This whole damn situation was a mistake.

A beautiful, dark haired, blue eyed mistake...

That just walked through the fucking door.

"Long time no see, y/n," he smiled, walking over to you, hands in his pockets.

"Hey... You're early?"

"If there's a bar, I'm always early. This looks amazing," he cast his eyes over the room - blue banners and balloons, a baby shaped cake, buffet, you'd gone all out on everything.

"It's good to see you, Cillian." You said, truthfully. Very good.

"You too."

A pause. Your eyes met. Both of you smiling, then a chuckle between you.

"So I hear you're moving back? Found somewhere yet?"

"Not yet. I'm staying at my mother's until I've got something sorted. Sleeping in my old bedroom - it's beyond weird."

"I can imagine. Single bed?"

"Yep. They haven't changed that room since I left at 18!"

You wanted to invite him to stay at yours. But you stayed silent instead. An uncomfortable silence before he broke it.

"You never called after.."

"We had an arrangement, and it came to an end Cill."

"You could have called though?"

"And so could you."

A silence fell between you. Slightly uncomfortable.

He was about to speak before other guests started piling in, distracting both of you as you greeted friends and family.

You avoided him the rest of the afternoon. Why should you have been the one to make the first move? He was the one who made it clear he was just 'scratching an itch' - and it somehow fell on your shoulders to contact him?

Fuck that.

Come on y/n, you've done so well up to now, do not get dragged into this again just to have your heart broken so quickly after it had healed.

It had healed.

It had.

Come on, it definitely had.

Fuck, it was so much easier to heal when he wasn't around..

[monokyokyo]

Life Saver | SeongSang

Seonghwa x Yeosang Vampire!Seonghwa Work Count: 5k

Dark, mysterious and enticing. Three words that Yeosang would use to describe the forbidden woods resting just outside his village. Ever since he was warned of its horrors he had been drawn closer and closer to its edges and the potential thrill that lay just ahead of it. Yet his lust for adventure was restricted by the laws of his own town.

1.One must not enter the forbidden woods 2.Those found conversing with evil shall be fined with treason 3.Report anyone who fails to abide by these rules

Yeosang was often reminded of these rules even as he stared into the vast forest from the window of his home. The sparse glimpses were just enough to lure him to it. Only to be snapped back to reality mere seconds later. "You're staring again," Stated Wooyoung, the young blonde's roommate. He was often the one to take him out of his traces, which was obviously never appreciated.

"And what about it?" Was his grumpy reply. The older male lounged by the window, his frowning face resting on its cill. "Is it so wrong that I long for a bit of adventure in this godforsaken town? What is there to do here anyway?" He heard Wooyoung hum. The older's moment of indolence was interrupted when a basket of bread was shoved into his arms.

"You can make yourself useful and send this to Mr Kim. I am sure he would appreciate seeing your face. It's not like anyone really does nowadays..." Yeosang scoffed at the way he simply walked off, leaving him with the chores. One Wooyoung himself was meant to do yesterday, in fact. Working at a local bakery to earn their living, they spend plenty of their time delivering bread and baked goods to the villagers of their town.

However, recently, Yeosang couldn't bring himself to so much as leave the house. Why? It simply wasn't worth it. Nothing in this tiny town of tedious troubles was worth leaving the comfort of his home for. Apparently, Wooyoung seemed to think otherwise, and shouted for his roommate to get going.

Begrudgingly, the young male trudged out of his home, hissing at the bright rays of the blinding sun above him. Mr Kim's house was on the other side of town. A walk that, when strode with purpose, wouldn't take more than fifteen minutes. However, for Yeosang, there was no ambition in the way he ambled through the village streets. Annoyance was the only feeling present and it made it difficult for him to care about his final destination.

Yeosang stared at the sky as he walked down the road, potentially looking like some sort of mad man due to his uneven stride. It was because of this wonky walk that he began to inch towards the outskirts of the town. He smacked his head, cursing himself for being so clumsy yet didn't change course. Instead, his eyes travelled towards the groves.

They were so uncanny yet so alluring. Why were the forbidden woods forbidden? It was something Yeosang had always wondered. Whether he knew it or not, his legs began to shift towards the forest. Each step he took gave him a greater sense of enthusiasm as his thoughts became clouded by what may lay ahead of him. It wasn't long before he was in.

His world was encased in instant darkness, surrounded by black plants and ominous glowing eyes. Vines more akin to snakes, bugs the size of monsters and what was once a blinding sun was now a desolate moon resting comfortably in the night sky. The atmosphere was nothing but eerie and to any normal person, uncomfortable. Yet Yeosang found a strange sense of solace in this peculiar setting, urging him to continue his trek forward. He brought out one of the loaves of bread in the basket meant for Mr Kim and munched on it with a grin.

He wondered if Mr Kim would be looking for his delivery and out of curiosity, glanced back to see how far he had walked. To his surprise, there was not a hint of sunlight in sight, when he could've sworn he hadn't been walking for that long. Frantically, his eyes travelled for some hint of familiarity. Yet there was nothing.

The wind blew through the forest, intruding on the thin sleeves of Yeosang's shirt. He shivered, feeling a sudden urge to be back at home by his fireplace. To achieve this, however, he would need to find a way out of here. He would need to think of a plan before one of those eyes watching him decided to strike.

A low growl filled the blonde's ears and it was just enough to send him sprinting. Yeosang dropped the basket of bread, using all of his strength to dash through the deeper parts of the forest. Constantly glancing behind him, he could still hear whatever the creature was chasing after him. It all came to a halt when Yeosang's foot collided with a tree root, sending tumbling to the ground. He screamed, rolling and falling from what felt like an endless cliff until he finally pummeled to the dirt floor. Yeosang groaned in agony and clutched his bruised stomach.

After collecting his fleeting breaths, the male trembled to his feet, eyes going wide at what he had landed in front of. It was a mansion. Yeosang didn't give himself much time to admire its dark exterior before he scrambled to the front door.

Isolated and seemingly left to the harsh elements outside, the house was lifeless. Cobwebs rested in the rooms corners, sheets covered the living room furniture and when Yeosang removed them he was met with a whirlwind of dust. The holes in the floorboards made him cautious of every step he took. Each one followed by the pained croak of the wood beneath him - all on the first floor. He hadn't even gotten to the staircase yet.

From the brief glance he had gotten from outside, the mansion was huge. Far too big for its inhabitants, regardless of how many may have resided there.

The waxy smell of candles filled Yeosang's senses. Torches? Here? In such a desolate place? A shiver ran down the hairs of his neck as the familiar breeze from outside blew through the room, fizzling out the candles and removing any sources of light. Ignoring his natural instinct to run, Yeosang followed the vague smell of smoke emitting from the once lit sticks, now faced with a wide and winding staircase. His eyes went to the interesting paintings on the wall, each of a dignified noble.

The one that intrigued him the most, was of a young man. Though his sight was limited, Yeosang could clearly see his distinct features and sharp red eyes. He was, dare you say, ethereal.

"Well now, what an interesting surprise," Yeosang whipped around. His heartbeat quickened at the massive shadow casting over his small frame. The same glowing eyes as in the painting stared down at him, only now, they were going right through his soul. "A human? How peculiar..."

Yeosang wasn't sure what to do, and from the looks of it, neither did the stranger. They both just stared at one another, examining the other's features. His hair shady blonde, several large strands sticking out, and dark eyebrows creased with unpredictable intent. It was difficult to see, with the only reliable light source coming from the stranger's bright red pupils but it was enough to keep Yeosang captivated.

After one minute of silent gawking, the blonde cleared his throat. "Are you not going to say anything?" This question snapped the older man out of his odd trance, as he leaned closer to Yeosang as if to be sure he had heard him correctly.

"Pardon me?"

"Why are you so silent? I would expect you to at least have some sort of reaction other than confusion. Maybe anger? Irritation? I have broken into your home after all. As...grim as it is, a home nonetheless." The stranger did nothing but blink at such a statement. His evident confusion made Yeosang scoff. "Of course, you're a homeless man that lives in the woods. That must be the reason it is forbidden. It is for the unemployed."

Expecting to just be able to walk off, Yeosang moved away from the man, only to be yanked right back. The stranger glared down at him, his eyes now baring a furious crimson, opposed to their neutral colour before. Yeosang gulped, the man's hand looming over his throat, the other raised. Yet instead of a strike, he snapped his finger. The candles were suddenly relit, giving Yeosang back his full vision.

The man's pale skin accentuated his eyes and his lips were a light shade of pink. His teeth...Oh...now Yeosang understood. Deadly sharp canines pointing out as he dragged his tongue over his upper lip, relishing in the new found fear on the human's face. "Y-You're...a vampire..."

"Well now, don't you catch on quickly? Not quick enough, however," The vampire got ready to bare his fangs, only to be sharply interrupted by the pure look glee on Yeosang's face.

"Amazing!" He cheered, to the pure bewilderment of the vampire in front of him. He was so shocked, that he stood a step back from the smiling male.

"Are you alright?" He asked with genuine concern. "That's not usually the first response someone has when meeting a vampire..."

"Why is that? What could be better than this? You're a vampire for god sake! And by far the most interesting thing to walk into my life!" The vampire didn't like the sound of that, and as far as he was concerned the only thing he planned to do was suck his blood and throw his body outside for the wolves. Yeosang, on the other hand, seemed to have much different plans in mind. "I'm Yeosang, and you are?"

Understandably, the vampire was hesitant to answer anything to this strange man. Yet he told himself that the sooner he got this over with, the quicker he could help himself to a meal. "Seonghwa..." Though the way he phrased it, he sounded unsure. Not the Yeosang minded, or even noticed.

"You're a rather strange human..." He murmured. "Why...?"

"Did you just ask me when I'm strange?" Yeosang gawked at the oddity of this sort of question. Yet it seemed Seonghwa was genuinely expecting an answer. As absurd as it sounded, the blonde shrugged at him. "Boredom will do that, I suppose."

"Bored? Why are you bored?"

"You ask quite a lot of questions, you know that Seonghwa?" The vampire lowered his head, apologising under his breath. His sincerity made Yeosang giggle. It was clear that he didn't interact with many people. Not that there would be many people to talk to in the forbidden forest anyway. "I'm bored because my village is miserable to live in. Nothing ever happens and I would much rather be anywhere in the word but that dull dump."

"I suppose that would explain a bit..." Seonghwa finally saw the way Yeosang, clutched his stomach from his fall earlier and furrowed his brow. "You're hurt..."

"I fell..." The younger murmured in repose. He heard Seonghwa sigh and before he knew it, he was hoisted into the vampire's arms. "H-Hold on! What are you-"

"You're wounded and I refuse to let you walk around injured." Faster than Yeosang could have imagined, the vampire sped to the top of the stairs and into a bedroom. In the blink of an eye, they arrived at a new location and Yeosang was amazed by Seonghwa's speed. He was gently placed on the soft fabrics of the bed and left to get comfortable while the vampire fetched a few bandages. In contrast to the rooms on the first floor, the second level of the mansion, this room, in particular, was practically spotless. Purple wallpaper, black carpet and a pretty, candlelit chandelier to brighten it up - this room was much more to Yeosang's liking.

"Remove your shirt," Seonghwa instructed. Yeosang did as he was told and slipped his long-sleeved shirt off. The vampire sat down next to him and began to clean his wounds. There was silence between them, as Seonghwa focussed on Yeosang's torso rather than the human himself. Yet Yeosang's eyes kept travelling to the vampire's face. His features were absolutely exquisite and the longer he stared the more drawn to him he became.

Questions began to circulate in the young male's mind, and he was dying for some answers. "What are you doing alone here? The forbidden woods are quite dangerous you know..."

Seonghwa chuckled. "I could ask you the exact same. What's a human of all creatures doing so deep in here?" Blush rose to Yeosang's cheeks at the memory of the embarrassing fall he had and the way he had gotten lost so easily.

"I asked first, didn't I?" Seonghwa could hear how defensive his tone had gotten, but laughed regardless.

"I've always been here," He replied. "It's my home after all." Yeosang hummed. It was a simple response but he supposed it made sense. He winced when Seonghwa pressed down just a little too hard on his stomach, causing the vampire to apologise immediately.

"It's alright...But...When are you alone?"

The older paused. His gaze went dark for a moment, evidently trying not to look towards Yeosang and frighten him. "You may want to ask the people in your little village that." He hissed. The moment his torso was wrapped up, Seonghaw stood to his feet, allowing Yeosang to put his shirt back on. His eyes travelled towards the window, something interesting catching his attention. Just outside the house was, what could only be described as a graveyard of plants. A part of Yeosang wondered how nice it would be to fix it up.

Yet before he could dwell on the thought, the vampire said that caught his attention. "You're all done. I'll escort you back to your town so you don't get lost on the way back."

"No!" Yeosang shouted to Seonghwa's surprise. "I can't go back! There's nothing for me there. Please...Allow me to stay with you."

"You can't..."

"Why not? I'm not scared to live with a vampire!" Seonghwa growled. Before he knew it, the human was shoved to the bed, his back hitting the soft cushion below him. Yeosang moved to pull himself up but was pushed right back down. The same hand that had held him to the mattress slowly began to caress the soft skin on his cheek.

"You're not scared because I'm not allowing you to be. If I wanted you to be scared, it would've been when I sucked you dry of the delicious blood in your system," Shivers were the only thing Yeosang felt, as Seonghwa's cold fingers traced his face. "You can't survive in this forest. You may not feel anything now, but trust me, you will."

"S-Seonghwa..."

"And that's why I'm taking you back." Once again, he was hoisted into the vampire's arms, this time, protesting by shouting and smacking at his chest. All his efforts were in vain, however, as Seonghwa was able to speed through the forest with ease, hardly phased by Yeosang's difficult reaction.

It was pitch dark once they arrived at the village. Not a soul in sight. Just the way Seonghwa wanted it. With that, he tossed Yeosang onto the ground. He watched, his hand on his hip and a blank, yet still amused, expression as he watched him roll to his feet. Yet again, they stared at each other. Yeosang noticed the way the vampire bit the inside of his cheek like he was holding himself back.

"Am I ever going to see you again?" The human asked. Seonghwa hated the way his eyes fell. His hands went to Yeosang's face, surprised when the younger blonde didn't even flinch. His soft lips pecked his forehead and Seonghwa smiled at him.

"Not without reason," He told him. "It is forbidden for you to converse with evil. I don't wish to cause you any trouble." The soft hold on Yeosang's face began to slip and away, and he instantly attempted to grab it back, trying to feel what little warmth the vampire's cold body had to offer. It made Seonghwa's face soften. "Though our first encounter may have been short-lived, had the circumstances been different, I would have loved to see you again, Yeosang."

Then he left. Leaving nothing but a breeze and Yeosang, frozen in grief. His one taste of life. Gone before his eyes. Slowly, he drew his hand back, solemnly realising that it was left where Seonghwa's hand once was.

The blonde trudged back to his home, a new wave of exhaustion washing over him. He lit a candle and made his way through the empty house. There was usually a light or two no matter how late it was. Wooyoung must have been out. Yeosang shrugged it off though, too tired to so much as think of where his loud roommate may be.

Seconds within touching the bed, Yeosang was out like a light. There was only one thought on his mind when he went to sleep that night.

Seonghwa.

That same name was on his mind even as he was shaken awake that very night. A plank of wood harshly slammed onto the back of the young male, causing him to cry in pain as he slowly inched up. Yet, to his surprise, it wasn't only Wooyoung standing over him, but guards and the local priest as well. "What's going on? What are you doing in my room?"

"Kang Yeosang, you have been fined with high treason." The guard stated bluntly.

"And for what?" He shouted back, sliding off of his bed. "What crime have I committed?"

The priest stepped forward, a book and bottle of mysterious liquid in his hand. "I can sense it all over you," He ominously spat. "The scent of evil. You reek of dark magic!" Yeosang scoffed at such an accusation. His eyes travelled to Wooyoung, expecting the younger to say something. Yet he did nothing.

"It's true. I saw him leave the forest with a vampire..."

"What? Wooyoung..." His roommate did nothing but watch with a cold face as the guards grabbed Yeosang's arms and began pulling him out. His kicks and screams were useless and they managed to tear him from his house with no strain.

Yeosang wasn't sure how long he had been knocked out, or when he was even knocked out for that matter, but when he awoke his eyes went wide. Surrounded by his fellow town's folk, each scowling with disgust, his arms tied behind his back and to a wooden pole a few feet off the ground. It took a moment too long for him to adjust to his surroundings because the moment he came to, the torches were already moving towards him.

"On this day, we rid ourselves of the evil that has invaded our town," When the priest said those words, the crowd shouted in approval, leaving Yeosang to tremble at the stake. "Darkness has filled this boy's mind and he has allowed it to poison him! And for that, he must be made an example."

Fear was all Yeosang felt, his arms desperately trying to free themselves from the thick rope surrounding him. Then he saw it. The bright flames of torches shining in his direction. And with two words, he could see his life flash before his very eyes: "Burn him."

Panic rose through Yeosang's body and then, terror. A terrified scream left the petrified boy's mouth. His legs kicked and wiggled as the fire raced towards him. He could feel its flames begin to pierce his soft flesh.

This is it.

He wept, eyes filling with tears. Yet before Yeosang could feel the true burn of the fire, a violent breeze swept through the village. People were pushed back, their arms thrown up to block the winds while the fire at Yeosang's feet flickered. Screams echoed from the crowd when the priest suddenly fell to the ground. His face pale and his neck impaled by fangs.

Before Yeosang could so much as react, his bondage was cut, leaving him to fall to the ground. Instead of hitting the floor though, he fell right into a pair of strong arms. "S-Seonghwa?" The blonde marvelled.

"You idiot..." Sure enough, the vampire stood over him, blood staining his lips and a bit of his chin. His dark figure, while frightening, was still radiant under the bright rays of the moon.

"D-Did you kill the-"

"There's no time," By now, the townsfolk had recovered from their shock and the sight of the bloody demon laying ahead of them as well as their dead priest quickly turned them to an aggressive mob. The dark grimaces of abhorrence were enough to signal anyone with a functioning brain to run.

So without wasting another second, Seonghwa fixed Yeosang in his grip, allowing his eyes to wander towards him, saying: "You'll be alright," before rushing as fast as vampirically possible out of the town. Yeosang held onto Seonghwa the whole way. His eyes were pressed shut, not daring to be reopened even if he knew they were far from the village.

Whether he liked it or not, it was still his home. Boring and uneventful as it was. Now, he could never return.

Yeosang felt his body become weak the moment his feet touched the floor of Seonghwa's house. He was supported only by the arms of the vampire holding him. The adrenaline was wearing off. "Are you alright?"

The human's throat felt parched all of a sudden, too dry to elicit a single word. Seonghwa took note of his lack of response and perceived it as exhaustion. "It's okay. I'll take you upstairs." Opposed to last time, where Seonghwa carried him, the vampire opted to walk next to Yeosang while they made their way up the stairs, slowly but surely.

The last thing Seonghwa wanted to do was overwhelm the younger. Especially in the state he was in. So when Yeosang finished hobbling up the stairs, Seonghwa thought it would be best to leave him be once he was under the covers of the blanket. Yet a slight tug on his sleeve kept him in place. "Stay...?" The human pleaded, his voice soft and frail, nearly on the edge of breaking.

"Yeosang, you should rest. I shouldn't-"

"Please..." It was so strained. Hardly a whisper escaping those chard lips of his. This human, so frail and weak, with an attitude like fire - Seonghwa found him hard to resist. As idiotic as he thought he was for actively seeking danger. Nevertheless, the vampire slipped off his coat and circled to the other side of the bed. The two never broke eye contact, not even as Seonghwa rested himself under the soft fabrics of the bed.

Yeosang shifted closer, Seonghwa did the same. Though his body may be cold, his eyes felt warm, filling the blonde with a strange sense of hope and safety.

That was how Yeosang ended spending years with the vampire. Two years, to be exact. He kept Seonghwa company, entertaining him with plentiful banter and silent nights of comfort. Yeosang lived off the foods in the forest and despite not having to eat, Seonghwa had proved to be an excellent chef. Every night, he would provide the human something better than the last. The two had even taken to fixing the unruly first floor of the house. It was a good way to spend time with one another.

They would curl up with one another on the couch, staring at the blazing fire, try, and fail, to bake, and never hesitated to be in the comfort of the other. Seonghwa treated Yeosang as if he were the most precious being on Earth. Rubbing away his sores and attending to his every need. He'd even massage his shoulders as they sat together in the bath.

Yeosang spent much of his time in the back of the manor, tending to the garden of black roses that rested outside its dark walls. He smiled contently at how he had managed to turn this dishevelled swarm of weeds into something lush and wonderfully atmospheric.

"They're gorgeous," Marvelled Seonghwa. The vampire strutted over to the smaller, amazed at the beautiful array of midnight flowers. "Never did I think I would see this garden return to its former glory. Yet you've done it. A true miracle worker you are."

Yeosang giggled at such a compliment. Seonghwa didn't fail to notice the way he tucked his hair behind his ear, a sly grin starting to form on the vampire's face. Carefully, he plucked one of the roses, cautious of their thorns. Its scent was heavenly and when he handed it to Yeosang, the human caught a whiff of its amazing blackberry-like smell.

"For the most radiant person the world has gifted me, not even a rose from the most stunning depths of heaven could compare to you, Yeosang." The blonde, taken aback by such a proclamation, allowed his face to grow warm at Seonghwa's words of sentiment.

"When did you become such a poet?" He chuckled, head facing downwards to hide the blush. Yet he let Seonghwa slowly lift it back up, a gentle smile on his ethereal face.

"The day I became so in love with you, of course."

However, not all was well. Over time, Yeosang began to feel his body start to give out on him. Basic things such as moving felt near impossible for his feeble form. Seonghwa had warned him of the risks of living in the forbidden forest. It was a realm for those of dark descent. A land that would practically shatter the soul of any human if they so foolishly chose to stay.

By the first month in the woods, he was sleeping for longer. By the sixth month, he was hardly awaking at all. One year later, he had lost his appetite, and by two years...

Seonghwa kept the human in his arms, holding him close to his chest as he stroked his soft locks. "Stupid human, I told you..." His face had grown pale, his eyes gone dull and his hair a sickly shade of grey. "You'll be alright, Yeosang. Just hang on a little longer, will you?"

"Seonghwa..." His voice, once firm and commanding, was relegated to nothing but a vague whisper. "T-Take care of the r-roses..."

"No, no stop that! You're not going anywhere!" The weak chuckle he received nearly broke Seonghwa's heart.

"I know y-you don't know the f-first thing about p-plants...but do it...for me?" Tears welled in Yeosang's lifeless eyes that Seonghwa gently brushed away. He could do nothing but hold him tighter, promising that he would do whatever was asked of him.

"Just stay with me," Was all he pleaded in return, even if he knew it was hopeless. Gently, a hand as cold as Seonghwa's cupped his cheek. A sweet smile was the most Yeosang could offer him, but it was just enough. His desolate eyes, although hollow still told him that everything would be okay. The last thing Yeosang wanted to see was him cry.

So he gathered the remainder of his fleeing breaths and told him: "You've made every part of my life worth living. And for that, I will always be grateful. I don't have much, but I hope my love is just enough to repay your kindness." Before resting his eyes.

Never to be opened again in this lifetime.

There he was, left with the body of the first and last man he would ever love. Why god? Why? He didn't deserve this...Seonghwa kept his eyes up, for he knew the moment he looked down at the corpse in his arms, he would be sent to an unending world of grief.

With much anguish, he tucked Yeosang under the blankets of his velvet, purple bed. Seonghwa placed one final kiss on his forehead, before exiting the room. The clicking of the key in its hole was the last activity he would ever hear from that door, as he tossed the object to reopen it through an open window just ahead.

His hands clawed at his hair, desperately attempting to not let his thoughts get the better of him. Yet there was one thought lingering in his mind. And it came from that damn village.

As Wooyoung cleaned off his hands, he whistled a light tune to himself. A soothing sound to scathe off that irritating tinge of guilt had still been feeling. It had been two years, yet even now he thought back to his lost friend. "He was asking for it," He told himself for what could have been the hundredth time. "He shouldn't have wanted to go into that forest so badly, now that damn vampire's killed him..."

"You sound like a man with no regrets. Now that doesn't sound very right to me," Wooyoung froze. A strange breeze blew through the windows of his home, a large shadow casting over his shaking frame. Seonghwa hissed when he didn't turn to face him, yanking by the shoulders and harshly shoving him against the wall.

Wooyoung stared in horror at the obscene amount of blood staining the man's attire. Lips red with metallic liquid of a human's inside spilt gleefully on his pale face. His eyes showed no mercy and no semblance of goodwill. "He wouldn't want you to do this! T-This won't bring him back!"

The dark chuckle rumbling in Seonghwa's throat only told Wooyoung that this wasn't someone willing to be reasoned with. "I know, but sure will make me feel a hell of a lot better."