cillianbabe - Tumblr blog

cillianbabe · 1 month

Text

Yikes! So much for posting these every day until they’re done 🙈 Sorry friends - life has been a bit exhausting recently and I’m struggling with time to write. But I hope this smutty, silly piece will make up for the delay - enjoy! 🤍

Summary: It’s BAFTA day! And Cillian has a request for his wife after their last crazy weeks.

Warnings: 🔞 Smut! Because why not, eh? Treat yo’self. Bad language. Public displays of affection that some teens may find traumatic. Mrs M and Emily bullying a small Irish movie star.

Word count: 3000 PART 7 | SERIES

viii - Sunday 18 February

Squinting at the daylight filtering around the edge of the heavy curtains, she stretched her arms above her head. As her back arched, she groaned quietly as her muscles protested pleasantly from his determination to make things up to her the night before, and a strong pair of arms sneaked around her middle, pulling her back against him.

“Morning,” he mumbled, voice thick and scratchy, his stubble tickling her neck.

“Morning,” she smiled, twisting to peck his lips as he ground his morning glory, not so subtly, against her bum. “There’s no time for that now, mister,” she chuckled, tilting her head to give him more access all the same. “We have to get up - they’ll probably be here soon and I’m not sure I want them to catch us in the act.”

“Hmmmm…” he mumbled, a broad hand smoothing down over her stomach, squeezing her thigh. “I can be fast.”

She snorted. “Just what every woman wants to hear.”

“We both know you can be fast too,” he teased, breath warm against her skin, fingertips now teasing over her underwear. Her reply was lost to a gasp as he hooked them to the side, rolling lightly against her clit.

Caving immediately as desire bubbled through her, she shuffled onto her back to give him more room to work, dragging her pants down her legs. Before she could even kick them away he was hooking two fingers into her, the stretch in her still sensitive pussy almost too much. But then he brushed her gspot with casual ease and pleasure flooded through her, back arching at his touch.

“Look at you,” he whispered, pressing kisses from her jaw to her throat, the roughness morning stubble catching deliciously on her skin as his thick fingers worked within her, the wet sounds of her arousal already audible. “Fucking beautiful and always so fucking ready for me.”

“Fuck…” she whined, “just there, just…”

He sucked lightly on her breast, teeth grazing the stiff peak, thumb brushing her clit.

“Are you going to cum for me already, hmm?”

Her eyes fluttered open to catch him grinning at her, mirth dancing in his pale blue eyes. She replied by running a hand down his stomach and into his boxers, pumping his firm length, using her thumb to smooth his precum over the head until his mouth fell open with a sharp breath.

“Fuck me. Now.”

In seconds he was hovering over her, swiping the tip of his cock through her slick folds, tapping it heavily against her clit. She whined and wiggled her hips in command that he get the fuck on with it and he chuckled, lining up and slowly easing himself into her velvety warmth.

His groan of relief was lost to her lips, her small hands wrapped around his head, pulling his mouth to hers as he began to move with slow, deep thrusts.

“I love you,” he mumbled against her lips as she finally released him, trailing kisses over her jaw and down her neck.

“I love you..too,” she gasped, every long drag of his thick length against her walls sending sparks crackling through her, warmth building at the base of her spine. “Fuck..Cill..”

Her body arched into his, hips rising to meet his every movement, urging him deeper, pressing him against the spot inside that made her vision blur.

“How are you still so fucking tight?” he rasped, trying to hold himself together against the sweet press of her cunt hugging him, sucking him in like it didn’t want to let go.

She assumed it was rhetorical (it usually was) and frankly she didn’t have time to discuss basic biology, because his hips were snapping faster now, pushing himself up onto his hands so he could drive into her harder. Hiking her knees up closer to her chest she whimpered as he slid deeper, desperate, ragged gasps in her throat every time he filled her, stretching her wide.

“Shit… can’t.. hold..” he grunted, eyes squeezing shut at the dizzying flutter of her walls around him, her desperate little mewls of pleasure so high pitched they were almost silent, sending him almost feral.

Teetering on the edge, she slipped a hand between them. He felt her body jolt and opened his eyes to see her rolling her fingers over her slick, sensitive clit.

“Fuck… that’s it, let me feel you.”

Hips pistoning into her, he dipped his head to lap his tongue against one stiff nipple and her failing grasp on her control snapped entirely, orgasm rushing through her like a freight train. With a deep guttural groan, he shuddered to a stop, hips pushing hard into her as he painted her insides white.

“Told you it would be quick,” he chuckled breathlessly, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips and rolling to lie beside her, his chest rising and falling quickly.

“Truly, so romantic,” she grinned, pushing her hair back from her warm face, the embers of her high still glowing through her, limbs floppy and relaxed.

He tucked her beneath him, nuzzling her neck until she was giggling and squirming. “You fucking love it,” he teased, roaming hand squeezing the curve of her hip.

Looping her arms around his neck, she curled one hand into his hair to pull him back up.

“I fucking love you.”

He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, cupping her face, thumb stroking across her cheek.

“Come with me…”

She frowned, cocking her head as she looked up at him. “Come with you where? To the BAFTAs..? I am coming with you - I’m your date. Did you hit your head..? Was that last orgasm too much for your aged brain..?”

He chuckled quietly. “No, I’m still just about able to remember that one. I don’t mean today..” He paused, brushing his knuckles against her face, her forehead still puckered in confusion. “I mean come to America with me. Next week.”

She blew out a sigh, holding his face between her hands.

“I can’t, I have—”

“Work, I know,” he sighed. “But I’m in New York til Thursday - you could work from the office there, like before?”

She chewed her lip - she really was sorely tempted. It wasn’t an unreasonable suggestion at all. But…

“I’d love that. I really would.” She smoothed a hand over his hair that was sticking up in random tufts - she would have to apologise to Gareth later. “But Eoin’s supposed to be moving in on Tuesday…”

He swore slightly in remembrance, pulling away to flop onto his back once more and she rolled onto her side to face him.

“But you know… the kids haven’t seen their grandparents in a while…”

He turned his head to look at her, hope blossoming in his chest.

“The weekend?”

She nodded, a small smile rising to meet her eyes.

“If I can get mum and dad to look after the kids you’d come out? For the SAGs?”

“Well, it’s Emily’s birthday on Friday but I suppose if I’m there I could go to that too,” she grinned. “Though, I’m not on the list for SAGs…”

“Course you are.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m not - I told Sarah I wasn’t able to come out for it ‘cause I had the kids.”

“I’m a fucking nominee, you think they can’t squeeze my wife onto the table beside me?”

She laughed, leaning in to kiss him. “Look at you Mr Big Time,” she teased, catching his lips. “You’ve been spending too much time with Downey.”

He pulled her tighter against him, cupping her face to steal another kiss, less chaste than the first.

“Hmmmm… there have to be some perks to all this nonsense.”

“Though, of course, Aoife will fucking hate it,” she continued, and he sighed, resting his forehead against her shoulder. “Eoin moves in and the first thing I do is fuck off to America with you, leaving them behind.”

Looking back up at her, he took her hand, weaving his fingers through hers, his eyes serious.

“I know it wasn’t the plan but given everything lately, I’d still be asking you to come if Eoin wasn’t moving in. And Aoife doesn’t have to like it - it’s not up to her what we do with them on the weekends they’re with us. I can’t bring them out to LA ‘cause they can’t miss even more school, but this is our marriage and we need to spend more time together in all this mayhem.”

She coaxed his lips back to hers, kissing him softly, slowly, simply luxuriating in him.

Pulling back with quiet sigh she met his startling eyes again. “You’re right. Fuck it.”

“I’ll ring mum when you’re in the shower,” he grinned widely, pecking her lips as she began to wriggle away, making for the bathroom.

“Oh,” she said as she tugged on a dressing gown, “don’t tell Emily - let’s make it a birthday surprise.”

“You are coming out for me, right? And not just because it’s Emily’s birthday..?”

She paused at the bathroom door, legs crossed awkwardly as she tried not to make a mess. Slowly, a wide grin lit up her face.

“How honestly would you like me to answer that?”

*****

The day passed in a whirlwind of hairspray and champagne. They met Emily and her parents, Downey and Susan, Chris and Emma and the many others involved with the film, for a little pre-show reception at their hotel, Emily squealing with delight when she caught sight of Y/N’s form-fitting golden dress.

“Oh darling!” she enthused, pulling her into a hug. “You look like a sexy fucking Oscar!” Drawing back, she pointed at Cillian. “Useful, in case you don’t win.”

He flipped her off with a grin, pressing a kiss into Y/N’s hair. “What can I say, I don’t need one of those when I have this one.”

Y/N twisted to look up at him. “Wow. Just… wow.. did you really just say that out loud?” He coloured slightly and she grinned, blowing him a kiss - getting lipstick on him was strictly off limits this time around.

“Blink twice if you want to leave him and run away with me,” said Emily, squeezing her hand earnestly.

Y/N blinked once dramatically and then grinned at Cillian, who rolled his eyes, pecked her cheek and drifted off to speak to Chris.

“Oh dear, is it bad that we’re matching,” she asked Emily, gesturing at her own beautiful - though much differently cut - metallic gown.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she retorted, threading her arm through Y/N’s, leading her over to meet her parents, “we look magnificent. Everyone else will just wish they looked like us.”

As they finally arrived at the event, Y/N hung back as Cillian and the others did their thing on the red carpet, his cheeks a little flushed from the fizz he’d had pressed into his hands earlier. But then the paparazzi caught sight of her and if only to silence their yelling for her to join him for a photo, she picked her way carefully across the floor, praying she wouldn’t fall over and embarrass them both. He slipped his arm around her waist, squeezing gently and she linked her fingers through his on her hip, glancing up to find him smiling down at her.

“Relax, you’re beautiful,” he murmured so only she (and no doubt many thousands of online lip readers) could hear. As if she could ever be relaxed when what felt like a thousand cameras were flashing at her and the air was filled with the demanding shouts of those wielding them. But she plastered on a smile and did her best - after all, if the most introverted man in Hollywood could do it, so could she.

And then Andrew Scott appeared, resplendent and as monochrome in red as Cillian was in black. After a quick hug she was mercifully able to leave them to it, slipping away from the fierce glare of the spotlight.

As Cillian and Emily went off to do various press things, she enjoyed the uproariously entertaining company of Emily’s parents. Her mother especially was intent on being delighted by everything she encountered and insisted on being introduced to as many famous people as possible. Rejoined after a while by their own movie stars, Y/N could only watch on and try and contain her giggles as Emily dealt with her mother’s not very subtle flirting with Ryan Gosling.

The time passed quickly, and before long they were in their seats in the front row of the large auditorium. Trying not to fidget, Y/N hoped the slit in her skirt wasn’t revealing anything unintentional. For once she was allowed to sit next to Emily and they had a marvellous time, quietly giggling together throughout David Tennant’s opening monologue and the early awards, until Cillian squeezed her knee to draw her attention.

“We’ll not be allowed to stay if you two don’t shush,” he admonished quietly with a grin. The camera caught the moment she slightly stuck her tongue at him, their heads close, grinning at each other like naughty school children. Minutes later, a still of it was on the BBC website live stream of the coverage. Or so Finn told her afterwards, deeply mortified by their accidentally very public display of love.

And then, at last, it was time. She wove her fingers with his, squeezing, feeling the tension radiating from him, his palm slightly clammy. No matter how much it wasn’t the reason for doing good work, it definitely meant more than he would like to admit. Particularly being recognised by the organisation closer to home where he had previously come away empty handed. As the little montage showing the actors’ performances played, his grip on her hand increased and she snuck a glance at him, seeing his jaw ticking against his cheek.

“And the BAFTA for best actor goes to… Cillian Murphy, Oppenheimer!” announced Cate Blanchett with a smile. As the hall erupted into applause she felt him physically relax, the shock, the relief washing over him. Jumping to her feet with a squeal of delight, she let him sweep her into a tight hug, safely avoiding her lipstick this time.

“I’m so fucking proud of you,” she gushed in his ear as he kissed the side of her head. Releasing her, he let Emily give him a gleeful squeeze and Chris a brief, emotional embrace, before he had to take to the stage.

Sitting back down as he was presented with the iconic golden mask statue, Y/N’s legs were shaking slightly with the adrenaline from the pride and relief that he’d won. Next to her, Emily weaved an arm through hers, squeezing her hand as he began to speak.

“Oh boy… holy moly…”

She smothered a laugh with her free hand, emotion pushing behind her eyes. Was he really going to start every acceptance speech like this? She could just imagine Eoin rolling his eyes in mock-shame at home, chuckling at his bumbling old dad.

“And I want to thank all my fellow nominees, and my oppenhomies..”

Beside her and further down the line, Emily and Downey hooted loudly in approval as the crowd laughed. The small break, however, seemed to throw him off his stride and he caught her eye as he struggled to get to control his little stutter, the one that only came out under stress. She nodded encouragingly and he took a breath, finding his voice, and continuing with his heartfelt love for the industry.

“And finally,” he looked down at her again, a smile playing on his lips that made her stomach flip flop, “to Y/N, Eoin and Finn, you’re my best friends. I love you so much.”

After the week they’d had, the time apart and the sharp words, the anger and the tension - all now smoothed and resolved - her control slipped. The bubbling emotion that had been threatening since he took to the stage broke through, the band snapping inside her chest, tears sneaking out and down her cheeks.

Raising the statue aloft he thanked the room and the camera cut to her as he left the stage in triumph, catching her doing her best to beam brightly and clap, at the same time as brushing away her tears. Emily slipped her arm around her shoulders, squeezing as she rested her head against Y/N’s in comfort.

“Two down, two to go,” she whispered quietly to Y/N, making her hiccup a giggle. As the show moved on to the next category, over her shoulder, Emma offered her a tissue and Y/N whispered her thanks before carefully dabbing her face, chest bursting with pride.

*****

The afterparty went on until late but as midnight neared 1am, he was persuaded back to their hotel room, another transatlantic flight looming in his future the following afternoon.

Before she could start to undress he was hustling her, a little drunkenly, against the wall, his body pressed against hers.

“Do you have any idea how much this fucking dress has driven me crazy all day?” he grumbled, broad hands running over her curves, accentuated by fluid gold. “You really do look like a sexy Oscar.”

Her head fell back in laughter and he took the opportunity to run his lips over her throat, nipping lightly. Tangling her fingers in his dark hair, fringe swept forward in the way that she loved, she pulled his mouth to hers. His fingers found the slit in her skirt, sliding beneath and running easily over her pussy, groaning when he felt the thin fabric of her underwear was already damp.

“Didn’t you get enough of me last night and this morning?” she teased as he eased the flimsy material to the side, two fingertips gathering her slick to roll across her clit. “Fuck…”

“Didn’t you..?” he grinned back wickedly, eyebrow raised as her hips rocked against his hand, a whine slipping past her lips.

“Never,” she gasped. “Never ever.”

So technically we’ve reached the end of the week… but I have at a couple of little extra pieces I want to share to wrap up this miniseries, if you’d all like a little bit more? I’ll try and get those done as quickly as I can. But until then, please do come and scream your feelings at me in the usual ways 🤍

Masterlists: CILLIAN | LOCKDOWN | MAIN

Tag list: @runnning-outof-time , @zablife , @garrison-girl-08 , @look-at-the-soul , @buttercupsandboys , @notyour-valentine , @elliotshelbyjones , @theshelbyclan , @theshelbyslimited , @pintofsweets , @flyingjosephine-blog , @christinasyellowflowers , @midnightmagpiemama , @l1-l4-deactivated20231226 , @allie131313 , @star017 , @lespendy , @blondie-22 , @dragons-are-my-favorite , @emotionalcadaver , @brummiereader , @alessioayla , @lyarr24 , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @forgottenpeakywriter , @kittycatcait219 , @cybernuttragedy456 , @babaohhhriley , @watersquirtpewpewboomm , @stevie75 , @padfootdaredmetoo , @moral-terpitude , @shaddixlife , @peakyscillian , @majesticcmey (unable to tag) , @rangerelik , @guenievresworld , @margew76 , @camilleholland89 , @woofgocows , @cilliansangel (unable to tag) , @ayomurphys , @elenavampire21 , @elk96 , @scorpiussage , @cillixn , @esposadomd , @grapejuiceblues , @throughgoeshamilton , @polishcrazyone , @shjjpm , @duckybird101 , @maeleeme , @cillmeslowly , @kmc1989 , @nela-cutie , @magicalmushroom0 (unable to tag) , @86luvrs (unable to tag) , @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky (unable to tag)

169 notes · View notes

cillianbabe · 1 month

Note

Do you think Ratatouille would trigger Carmy because rats in the kitchen freaks him out ooor do you think it would easily become his favourite Disney movie once the girls beg him to watch it on repeat and play little and big chef repetitively?

the only time it would trigger him is teddy loooveeesss it (she really likes the girl with the purple hair I forgot her name collette I think bc she’s mean and in charge and teddy loves her) but willow is really young when they watch it. carmen doesn’t prefer it but doesn’t hate it (it’s better than encanto for the 7 millionth time lol)

his only issue is willow who is like one or two points at the screen anytime linguini is on there and will just babble over and over and over “dada” bc she genuinely thinks that’s carmen on the screen. no one is really sure why, maybe bc he cooks and has a big nose and curly hair, but carmen is offended bc ??? he cooks way better than that fucker.

“are you kiddin’ me? I got a fucking michelin star and she’s calling me this jagoff.”

“carmen, it’s a cartoon.”

“yeah a stupid one. five star my ass. no way that’s a fuckin five star.”

“carmen.”

321 notes · View notes

cillianbabe · 1 month

Note

Hey, so uh i accidentally came across your tumblr page on here and i know it's little weird to receive a thing like this but um i really like to be your friend so… please let me know if you're ok with it thank you love your account btw!

how can i be friend with an anonymous

0 notes

cillianbabe · 1 month

Text

thinking about Carmen taking care of his girl sm he won’t put up with her spending any of her hard-earned money :(

After shutting your door for you, Carmen walks around the front of the car into the drivers seat, shuffling with the seatbelt as he turns the key in the ignition.

You hum to yourself in the meantime and find your lipstick in your bag—your new lipstick, a little more luxe this time, just the right shade to compliment your skin, a treat for yourself after finishing up a project at work. Just a little gift you deserved. You flip down the sun visor and open the mirror, making a pretty o with your lips to carefully apply it, stifling a smile when you feel Carmen watching.

“Where’s that from, baby?” he asks, a hand smoothing up your back.

“Hm?”

“The—the, uh—” he points to his own mouth while staring at your lips— “Lipstick, you call it?”

“Oh,” you smile. “Yeah, it’s new.” You hug his bicep, an affectionate squeeze before cradling the side of his face and toying with the tuft of hair by his ear. “You like it?”

He hums, “‘F course, ‘s pretty.”

But his smile falters, and it has you pouting.

“What?”

“Nothin’…” He shrugs. “Just don’t remember buyin’ it. You used my card, right?”

You shake your head. “No, I bought it myself. It wasn’t expensive, Carm, I promise.” Half true, at the very least.

“Yeah?” He let’s go of you only briefly to lift his hips and pull his wallet from his pocket, fishing out the wad of cash that’s accumulated there. “How much was it, baby? I’ll pay you back.”

“Carm, I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“Yeah, well, I’m doin’ it anyway.” He counts out one, two, three twenties—

“Carmen, put that away—”

He looks up at you, raises his brows, dishes out a fourth and a fifth. “What?” He doesn’t even flinch when he folds the bills in two and leans over the console to slip them in your purse, sneaking a kiss to your cheek as he does so, just because he knows it’ll distract you. A hand on the wheel now—a veiny, tattooed hand, enough to make you drool—with the other holding your jaw, he kisses you again, the corner of your mouth to keep your lipstick in tact. “Use my card next time, you hear me? Doesn’t matter what it’s for.”

You frown. “But I feel bad . . . I make my own money, y’know.”

“You’re not supposed to spend your money, baby, you’re supposed to spend mine.” Again, he kisses you, guiding you where he wants you with his thumb and index gently holding your chin so you can’t look away. “I got you, baby. Lemme take care ‘f you.”

And, well, when he puts it like that . . . it’s not so hard to oblige.

3K notes · View notes

cillianbabe · 1 month

Note

love this 🥹🥹

Doing a self care night w carm 🥺 he gets home after the lunch shift to find you bought a bunch of face masks and scrubs for you guys. You giving him a back massage and washing his hair. Ofc you take one of those classic coupley face mask mirror selfies™️. He lets you sit in his lap and trim up his eyebrows 😭

Jesus I just want to take care of him 🧎‍♀️

-🧸

Oh God you get it. You get IT.

The amount of times I have imagined doing my hair routine on Carmy… AH

Like walk with me here. He’s over at your apartment after work and you’ve convinced him to let you do all of your self care things on him.

You tell him the first thing you’re going to do is wash his hair. He’s already getting excited because he thinks you two are about to shower together, but that’s not what you have in mind.

“Come in the kitchen and lay on the counter by the sink. Imma go get the stuff I need from the bathroom.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m washing your hair in the sink. My mom did it for me all the time. It’s a lot easier this way. I already cleaned off the counter for you.”

You return from your bathroom with an arm full of hair products. Carmy is sitting on the countertop, waiting for your next instruction. “Okay, what is all of that for?”

“It’s hair products, Carm. I’ll explain it to you as I go.” You roll up a bathroom towel you brought with you and place it at the edge of the sink. “Can you lay down now?”

Once he’s settled, you turn the faucet on, feeling the temperature of the water with your finger. You use the sink sprayer to wet his hair. You begin by shampooing his hair. “This is a clarifying shampoo. It’s going to cleanse your scalp and your roots.”

“Are you saying my hair is greasy.”

“You do work in a kitchen, you know. Also let’s not ignore the fact you use two in one shampoo and conditioner.” Carmy doesn’t bite back, knowing you’re right. He closes his eyes while your fingertips massage his scalp.

“That feels really nice, baby.”

“Perfect. That’s the goal,” you reply, smiling at him as you rinse out all the shampoo. “Now I’m going to use a deep conditioning treatment. It’ll make your hair feel soft and healthy. It needs to sit for ten minutes, so why don’t you tell me about your day?”

Time goes by quick as Carmy tells you about work. Before you know it the timer on your phone goes off, and you rinse out the conditioner. “Thats it right?” Carmy asks.

“I gotta style your curls! I’ll be quick I promise.” You start to layer on different products, trying to be speedy.

“Okay what is all of this?”

“Oh, well I just put on a leave in conditioner. It does exactly what it sounds like. Right now I’m putting in a styling cream. That’ll keep your hair from being frizzy. Finally I’ll put in a mouse, which will help hold your curls without loosing any volume.”

“I’ve never used any of this before?”

“Carm, it’s a mystery to me how your hair looks so nice. If only you knew the daily struggles of a girl doing her hair.” You put the last touches on his hair, scrunching the product through his locks. “You’re all done now. It just has to dry. Ooo! Let’s do a face mask now!”

Carmy hops off the countertop and follows you to the living room where you already have a variety of sheet masks laid on the coffee table. “So do I just pick any of these?”

“Yep! Completely your choice.” Carmy instantly goes for the panda bear sheet mask. “I had a feeling you would pick that one,” you laugh.

You spend the rest of the night with Carmy watching his favorite shows while you do all of your skincare routine on him. He doesn’t even fight you when you sit on his lap to trim up his eyebrows.

I like to giggle and think that the staff notice the next morning that Carmy’s hair looks really nice and curly AND that his eyebrows are perfectly trimmed. He folds at some point and admits that it was all you, and he played zero part in it.

208 notes · View notes

cillianbabe · 2 months

Text

more, more, more — carmy x reader

carmen berzatto x coworker!reader

listen to me. this man? this man?? so fucking slutty. so fucking slutty i can’t even think straight. i am absolutely AGHAST at how little writing there is of this man online. absolutely OUTRAGEOUS. he looks like that and none of us have done his character justice?? DISGRACEFUL.

i wrote this in direct response to how angry i am at how little there is.

as always, warnings… SMUT!, alcohol consumption, alcohol consumption with sex, smoking, p in v penetration, work relationships, overstimulation, carmen berzatto being an absolute mind blowing fuck on a table i mean in bed

also, minors fuck RIGHT the fuck off

barely edited we die like men

i stole that joke don’t come for me

anyway....

you didn’t really know how it happened.

you were once an unemployed law student, scared of drowning in bills, and eagerly awaiting a call back from anyone that would hire you — when she called.

natalie berzatto.

her voice was warm and comforting on the phone, and very eager to have you come in. she was relaying important information to you on the phone, and while you grabbed bits and pieces, it was hard to focus on anything else besides the sheer excitement of finally having a job. the job would be stressful, sure — but at least you wouldn’t be broke and stressed.

unfortunately, your first couple of shifts were a mess and a half. you took instructions well, and performed well, but in the hospitality business — that means nothing when an oven burner is out, a dishwasher doesn’t show up for a shift, richie starts barking, or when carmen’s upset.

carmen.

fucking carmen.

while soft spoken, there was nothing that could compare to the look of approval in his eye when you had completed a task to his standard. most people would consider the job of a hostess useless, or not a job at all — something to laugh at, but carmen? no. that man took your job very seriously, as he knew what it meant to provide the full experience to the customer.

however, when something was lacking in the kitchen and that experience was interrupted… carmen took the look of approval, almost gratefulness, away and replaced it with something that everyone felt like they had to walk around shards of glass.

when he was angry? oh, fuck… that could ruin anyone’s night.

the worst of it happened when his sister unexpectedly went into labor. two weeks early.

carmen had left the place screaming, and, in the process, had also left his things at the restaurant, including his jacket, wallet, keys, the lot — so to be nice you went to drop it off at his place. worried that he might be at the hospital, you texted him.

you: hey, going out for a drink. saw you forgot your stuff at the restaurant so i grabbed it because you’re otw. you home?

carmen: oh shit thanks. i’m home

so there you stood. at his front door, his stuff in hand.

you quickly adjusted your long hair, worried about your appearance. it was weird to show up to carmen’s place in your regular attire — seeing as though your regular attire on a night with your friends was black flare jeans, a tight black long sleeve v-neck that showed off your cleavage — you were concerned that he might be concerned with who he exactly employed. however, his niece was just born… he had more important things to worry about.

so you knocked.

and barely waited.

carmen was barely at the door a few seconds later before you came face to face with the man who constantly let exhaustion ride on his back.

“you good?” you immediately asked, handing over his stuff.

he nodded. “yeah, uh — thanks.”

“you look like you could use a drink,” you laughed. “want to come with?”

he shook his head, the corners of his lips somewhat curving upwards. “nah. day was hectic. you want one? come in — for a drink?”

you smiled. “i don’t want to intrude, especially after the berzatto family excitement of the day.”

“i owe you,” he sighed. “but don’t let me hold you up if your friends are waiting.”

you smiled. “one drink won’t hurt.”

one drink definitely did not hurt.

drink two and three definitely didn’t, either.

how much carmen made you laugh definitely made your stomach hurt, though. in a good way.

“you’re killing me,” you cackled. “who knew quiet carmen berzatto was such a good host.”

“you can call me carmy, y’know,” he spoke, saying his cigarette before pouring you another drink. “everyone else does.”

you shrugged. “you’re pretty professional in the kitchen. didn’t want to impose.”

“i don’t think you could impose a day in your life,” he chuckled. “i think you’re the only one that knows boundaries in that fuckin’ place.”

“says the mysterious one,” you giggled. “the only reason any of us know your nicknames is because richie likes to share your baby stories.”

“speaking of babies…” he took a drag. “thank you for helping sugar out so much. she told me to tell you how much she appreciates it.”

you shrugged. “‘s nothing.”

“nothing?” he scoffed. “you keep her sane. definitely keep me sane.”

“always got your back, chef,” you giggled.

he smiled, and ashed his cigarette once more. his long, thick fingers stretched around the circumference of his glass. one fingertip tapped against the glass and a few droplets of condensation fell to his countertop.

you were twisted around in your seat to face carmen, eyeing his attractive hands. in your peripheral vision, you saw him lift his head to cock it towards you and stare at you. the longing look sent shivers up your spine, but you gazed at him through your long lashes as you waited for his response.

“you do,” he spoke. “always have. we were lucky to find you. i - i was, i mean.”

“more like i was lucky get a call from natalie,” you laughed. “it’s so hard to find a well paying job nowadays.”

“heard,” he rasped. “you happy at the bear?”

“very,” you replied. “staff keeping you happy, chef?”

he chuckled. “when i’m not made to scream, yeah.”

“that’s fair. we’re lucky to have you.”

there was only so many things you could think of to say to carmen before you began to consider that you were imposing. you slapped your hands against your thighs — a implicit signal it was time for you to go. he led you to the door, where he reached out for your coat. you smiled at him, thanked him for the drink, and slid your arms through the jacket as he held it out for you.

you don’t know what caused you to, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was you — or maybe it was how good carmen smelled — but you glanced up and over your shoulder at the polite man behind you.

you didn’t have anything to say. frankly, you said something last — it was his turn. however, carmen’s sense of societal expectations started and ended with the door to the kitchen. but there, by his front door? basically holding you by the shoulders, and staring back down at you? he had nothing to say.

however… his eyes could share a thousand things about him. more specifically, emotions. carmen’s eyes showed exhaustion, a bit of dehydration, to keep it a buck, but there was so much intensity in those crystal irises. they were a stunning, clear blue… but with the way carmen was gazing down at you, there appeared to be no clear thought in his head.

and he did nothing.

so you could do nothing.

you found yourself disappointed at his actions, or rather — lack thereof.

you simply smiled, and went to turn away. you reached for his door knob, when you felt the slightest brush of calloused fingers against the skin of your wrist. the feeling shocked you, pricking at your nerves, but you didn’t stop until you felt those fingers enclose around the circumference of your wrist.

like they had with the glass, moments ago.

you turned back, letting your long and thick eyelashes ghost over your line of sight. all you could see was a frozen chef, standing tired, but staring back at you.

when his gaze fell to the floor, you stepped closer. he glanced up.

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you softly asked, “what’s up, carmy?”

“first time i had someone over.” his parted lips closed so he could swallow, and his eyes drifted between your lips and the floor. the words were right there, on his tongue. they were so close you could feel them, taste them. he replied, “i, um… don’t want it to end, uh — i guess.”

you smiled and turned around in place, barely inches from his face. his breaths were pushing past his lips in small, light puffs that hit the tip of your chin. it was like he was conscious of everything he was emitting; his vibe, where he was looking, even his fucking exhales. he was cautious and frozen and all you wanted was for him to be relaxed, or as close to, as he was moments ago.

“already drank you out of house and home, carmy. what else you got in mind?”

his eyes widened, but his voice stayed level. “what else i got in mind?”

you hummed in agreement with a coy smile on your face. you folded your lip between your teeth and stepped backwards. carmy glanced at your hips and feet hesitantly, shifting his weight slightly. while his eyes were trained on you, his parted lips quivered slightly which told you that there was still some nervousness lingering in him. with every step you took, carmy took one as well. you kept stepping backwards, and carmy kept stepping forwards, until your back was pressed against the wall.

carmy’s lips weren’t slightly quivering anymore. there was no hesitation in his figure when he leaned down slightly and rested a flat palm against the drywall above your head. his breath was hitting you on both cheeks — as if they weren’t hot enough already. inside you were screaming. you were screaming, and screaming, and screaming and all you wanted to do was grab both sides of his face and smash your lips to his. you wanted to, but you wouldn’t. you wanted to see if he would.

“you know,” you spoke, raising your back. your cold palm pressed against his cheek. it was burning — almost as bad as yours. “even though you’re the boss… never seen you actually taste anything.”

“no?” he rasped. the gruffness in his voice pricked at your cheeks and went straight to your core. “and what do you want me to taste, sweetheart?”

you released your grip from his cheek and brought your hand down to your face. with a manicured nail, you tapped the plumpness of your bottom lip. you stared into his eyes — a dare.

“fuck.”

with his free hand, carmen wrapped your hand in his own and pressed it to the middle of his chest. he held it there, pressed against his heart, and surprisingly it was the exact spot you wanted to hold him. you wanted to hear — no, feel his heart that was beating slightly faster than normal. when carmen finally pressed his chapped lips against yours… you saw stars.

the alcohol coursing through your veins made you melt into the man before you. his hand on the wall slid down until he was rubbing the side of your neck, and then gripping the base of your skull. his fingers, his beautiful, skillful fingers threaded through your hair like it was one of his pieces of art and he was creating something. he twisted your strands until he had your head bent back, practically supported by the heavy palm of his hand. the motion made you gasp into his mouth. carmen swallowed it whole. every. last. bit.

“y’taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he moaned against your lips.

you hummed with him. the warmth of his body engulfed your body into his until the moment started and ended with carmen anthony berzatto. you could taste the liquor on his tongue that danced with your own. with every breath he took, bits of smoke would linger between the two of you. it went straight to your head, swallowing your senses whole. you didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the cigarettes, or carmen himself, but you felt like you were swimming.

“this okay, sweetheart?” he asked, pulling away for a second. a thumb of his stroked the skin of your cheek as he stared at you, waiting for feelings of regret from you. “d-do you want me to stop?”

“please don’t stop, carmy,” you gasped, pulling him back into. “you’re perfect.”

you didn’t expect that would make carmen slide his hands down your body and grasp the back of your thighs. his fingertips pressed into your skin, pulling your legs up and around his waist. you squealed against his teeth and couldn’t believe you had found yourself in this situation.

it’s not that carmen wasn’t handsome, no. the man was drop dead gorgeous in a tortured artist way, and you always had a thing for men that looked like they needed a hug but wouldn’t admit it. but… he was your boss.

what could you do about that? it’s not like you could stop now. even if you had told him to stop, got your shit and left — the damage was done. you both had crossed the boundaries, and you were going to reap what you sewed.

in that case… might as well have a little fun with it.

he had placed you on a neighboring table. his large hands gripped the flesh of your thighs and you couldn’t help but whine into his embrace. his tongue glided over your lips and teeth and with your tongue in the messiest way possible and all you could chant in your head was more, more, more.

and that’s when you found yourself pulling at the bottom of his t-shirt.

he stepped back slightly, throwing his shirt over his head. his swollen lips were parted, and his eyes searched your face. you found your chest rising and falling with anticipation, and realized you should’ve been more concerned with how he was dealing with all of this.

“you okay, carmy?” you whispered.

he nodded, letting a few fingertips of his ghost over the skin of your cheek. his crystal eyes glanced down to your lips.

“we can stop, you know,” you whispered again. “it’s okay.”

he nodded again before dipping his head down to the side of your neck. his plump lips left wet kisses on the sensitive skin and you moaned into the open air. you widened the space between your knees, allowing for carmen to wedge himself between your thighs.

“you’re always talking such good care of me, sweetheart, so good to me,” he rasped against your throat, sucking on the skin. “but all i want to do right now is have my fingers inside you. y’gonna let me?”

“yes, carmy,” you whined. “yes please.”

“such a polite girl f’me.” carmy’s mouth was attacking your throat. moans escaped passed your lips like carmy was squeezing them from you, claiming them. his fingers traveled down the front of your clothes and stopped at the button of your jeans. sliding it open, carmen berzatto slipped his perfect hands into your jeans.

“right there, please,” you gasped once his fingers found your bundle of nerves.

his fingers dipped into your core and spread it all over where you needed him most. warmth began to spread through your hips and your knees widened for him. his drew circles different ways until he noticed that when he drew counterclockwise circles, you bit your lip and your eyes appeared to involuntarily flutter shut. you felt carmy smirk against the skin of your neck.

“what made you this wet, baby?” he hummed, sucking at the base of your throat.

“you, carmy,” you whined. “felt it as soon as i saw you when i first walked in. needed you so badly.”

he smirked again. “so bringing my things wasn’t of the purest intentions?”

heat rose to your cheeks with the sensual actions that were taking place below the belt and carmy’s accusation. you grew worried at what he would say if you said no, that you honestly just wanted to help him out… but if carmy wanted to play like that, you could play.

“n-no,” you whined as the pleasure began to spread throughout your whole body.

carmy was holding you so close to him. it was like he was your support — supporting you through such a physically vulnerable moment. your legs were practically shaking at this point, trying to take everything he was giving you and not start sobbing. you were grabbing at any piece of him you, wanting to kiss him — but he wouldn’t let you. fucking bastard.

“good,” he stated, staring you dead in the eyes. your mouth fell open at his response, a pant pushing passed your lips. “i don’t have the purest of intentions when i do this.”

carmen berzatto slid two long, thick fingers inside you ever so slowly. the motion pulled small moans out of you like you were a pathetic mess of a puddle and the sun rose and set with him. you felt his fingertips press against the upper wall inside you, while another finger worked at your clit, and all you could do was hold onto him tighter.

“it feels so good, carmy,” you whined. “i love your fingers so, so much.”

“yeah, baby?” he breathed against your ear. “you wanna cum f’me?”

“faster, please, i will,” you sobbed. you fucking sobbed as the tapping motion inside you hastened. “oh god — oh my fucking god —“

“that’s it, sweetheart? that’s what you needed?”

“yes, yes — fucking — fuck — yes.”

“f-fuck —“ he groaned broken, incoherent phrases against your throat. his breath was hot and heavy on your skin and all you could think about was how good he felt inside of you, and also how badly you wanted all of him inside you. interrupting your thoughts, he spoke, “show me how good it feels, baby. finish all over my fingers f’me.”

that broke you.

that fucking broke you.

it was like a shock of lightning hit you straight in your core and the power from the strike spread throughout your entire body. every muscle of yours went taut as you arched your chest into carmy’s.

with his expert hands, he fucked you through the orgasm. “that’s it, baby. that’s it. keep cumming for me.”

it was like carmen berzatto knew everything to say to make you shatter. you couldn’t even breathe — all you could do was give into the spreading feeling of bliss and hold your breath while it washed over you. it was wave, after wave, after wave of mind-numbing orgasm and carmen held you through all of it.

“pretty girl.”

“i know, baby. you’re such a sweet girl f’me.”

“that’s it, sweetheart. take it.”

once the waves finished hitting you, your chest was rising and falling heavily. carmen peppered light kisses along your neck, being gentle as to your state, but you were having none of it. you reached for his belt.

“greedy.”

you smiled lazily at him. “any objections, chef?”

he smirked at you, letting his fingers ghost over your sensitive core. a shiver ran up and down your spine at the almost painful action. “be careful — or i’ll make you cum again.”

you knew he wasn’t joking. you let out a slight giggle before you dragged the zipper and his boxers down. freeing his cock, you pumped his shaft.

carmy was once dominantly kissing your neck and whispering mean things in your ear, but now he was using the crook of your neck to support his forehead.

“you have such a pretty cock, carmy,” you whispered in his ear. there was something so comforting about being intimate with a man where you both could be vulnerable, and you weren’t sure if you would ever let it go. you want him everywhere he would let you have him. “i don’t know if i want it in my mouth or inside me more.”

he chuckled at that, crooning back into your embrace when you would touch a very sensitive part of him. “dirty girl — you’re so fuckin’ evil.”

you were worried the friction was becoming too much for him, but you didn’t want to raise your hand to your own lips, so you swiped some of the juices from your core and used it to lubricate the skin of carmy’s cock. it was a quick motion — you didn’t think he’d notice, and plus his eyes were most likely closed.

but when he spoke, you froze.

“do-do that again.” his voice was rough with lust. “do that again for me.”

you were hesitant at first, but you decided to make a show of it. you slowly dragged two fingers up the length of your slit and rubbed a very slow circle around the circumference of your clit. you gasped at the sensitivity, slightly jumping at the touch.

“fuck, that’s hot,” he groaned, breath humid on your neck.

you smirked at his response and reached for his cock. your hand slipped along the smooth skin of his cock, drawing a deep groan from carmen. the poor man was so sensitive — almost aching from what giving everything he had to you previously felt like.

“so big, carmy,” you breathed. “so big and pretty.”

“y’know what would be prettier?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your jaw line. “watching you put it inside you. can you do that, baby?

you smiled at him devilishly. carmy’s hands shoved the rest of your jeans down your legs and flung them somewhere in the room. your pussy was aching — dripping for the man before you. the sensitivity had left you, no longer prickling at your nerve endings. all that was left was the want for more — anything carmy had to give you.

“please,” you whined, rubbing the head of his cock against your glistening folds.

“i love when you beg f’me,” he groaned. “such a good fuckin’ girl.”

both of your lines of sight drifted down to the view of your hips. you both watched in awe as you lined carmy up with your entrance as he pushed his hips towards you.

the throws of passion and want for carmy were intense, sure — but so was the want to enjoy this while he could. he pushed in the tip of his cock, groaning slightly as your tight hole encased him. you whines at the barely filled feeling — so empty, needing more. carmy, however? carmy didn’t care. he wanted to feel every push and pull of your muscles between your hips.

carmy kept his eyes turned down at your pussy and you swallowed more and more of him inside you. he gripped the flesh of your waist, fingertips digging into you. your own hands were splayed our flat against the cool countertop of the table — a direct juxtaposition of the boiling feeling that electrified the top of every inch of your skin. you whined as carmy took his time with his thrusts, pulling back every so often when he felt resistance, and then pushing back in ever so slightly, yet slightly farther, each time.

“please, more,” you gasped, folding your lip between your teeth. “i want all of you.”

“baby isn’t patient, huh?” he asked, continuing with his motions. “gotta have it all, when you want it?”

“i can’t be teased right now,” you sobbed. it was pathetic how needy you were, but fucking christ did it turn carmy on.

“this what you want, baby?” he asked, pushing into you deeper.

your walls were squeezing him like he was the only thing that existed to you. the burn at your entrance was something so bittersweet, something so delicious — you didn’t know how you were going to keep control and make this special for him as well, let alone how you weren’t going to cum right then. but you didn’t care — you didn’t have the strength to care.

“yes, carmy — please,” you begged, bucking your hips into him weakly. “fuck — your cock feels so good.”

“yeah, baby?” he pressed into deeper. “so impatient you can’t handle it slow?”

“i want you to fuck me, carm,” you bit with lust dripping from every word. “fuck me — use me however you want — please.”

fuck.

that set him off.

carmy was a patient and low maintenance man, sure, out of necessity and convenience mostly. however, when he had the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, with a dirty mouth to match, talking back to him, and begging him to be selfish?

fuck patience. fuck ease. and fuck being selfless.

carmen’s grip tightened on your waist, and he pushed the last parts of his cock inside you.

it immediately hit you right where you needed him — that soft, sensitive spot so deep that barely anyone before him could dream of reaching. your walls gripped the smooth skin of his cock and you screamed. you fucking wailed when he finally pounded into you painfully, but so fucking sweetly.

“dirty — fucking — girl,” he grunted, thrusting upwards into your pussy.

there was nothing like the sight of carmy finally taking what he wanted. no expression of shame, or guilt, or hesitation on his face — just a man, slightly bent over before you, inside of you, holding you so close to him because, in that moment, you could give him what he wanted — needed. and, in that moment, all he needed was you.

the side of his face was pressed against yours, breathing heavily into your ear. the few groans he let escape his throat were guttural — almost animalistic. they went straight to your core, practically flooding around his cock. your whines of pleasure forced his hips forward and back faster and harder with each motion. balancing your weight and carmy’s with a firm hand of yours behind you on the table, you clamped your free hand on the back of his neck. you twisted a few stray strands of his hair around your fingers, tugging at them. every thrust caused you to pull his hair, him, closer and harder into you.

“laythefuckdown,” he spat, to your surprise.

the command startled you, sure — but it also made you bite your lip in anticipation. he pressed a wet, heavy kiss to your cheek, throwing butterflies in your lower stomach, as you released him. before you could lay down, he stopped you.

“you want to give me what i want, baby?” he whispered against your lips.

you nodded, gazing at him with dark, lust filled eyes.

“then i want your pussy to finish around my cock,” he stated. “think you can do that f’me?”

“y-yeah,” you replied, shakily, but full of trust.

you laid down and carmy regained his footing at the end of the table, keeping his cock pressed firmly inside you as he stood above you. his cock twitched against your most sensitive spot inside you, and you whined at the new angle. he gripped one of your hips firmly, but let his other hand ghost up your glistening lips.

“such a pretty fucking pussy,” he rasped, gazing at it. “takes my cock so well. but right here…”

he pressed his thumb against your clit.

you would’ve jumped if his hand wasn’t keeping you locked to the table.

“this is what i want,” he spat. “so fucking pretty.”

he began rubbing rough, fast circles on your clit. your legs were shaking from the overstimulation, and you thought you could cry from the sensation. your back arched off the table, and your hands struggled to find something to grip — to balance you as carmy tortured you.

but then his cock started working itself back into you again, hitting that spot that needed him so badly.

“think you can cum like this, baby?” he asked, taunting you. “be a good girl for me, yeah?”

“yes — !” you groaned, reaching for the end of the table with one hand. grabbing it, you tried to steady yourself, but it was no use. not with carmy. “fuck — it’s so much — it’s too much carmy —“

“gonna cum for me, sweetheart?”

you threw your head up to stare at the man. he was rocking into you like that was the only thing he knew, fucking you like it was the only thing he wanted, but there was so much focus on his eyes. so much focus on you.

“gonna give me what i want?”

“yes, yes,” you were nodding your head so pathetically, so sweetly for him. tears were practically threatening to spill over the corners of your eyes, but they glistened at him, and only him, and god did it fuck with him. “please, carmy — let me cum for you.”

“do it,” he ordered. “fuck, baby — cum for me.”

your hips were bucking against his pelvis and his hand, too erratic for him to be precise like he wanted to. you were chasing his fingertips, chasing the orgasm that even in his selfish state he was so generous to give. whines left your throat involuntarily as the intensity in your lower abdomen grew, and grew, and grew. your eyes were screwed shut as you pushed yourself to your elbows, holding yourself up as you couldn’t help but curl into yourself. carmen may have been looking at you, or something else — it didn’t matter. all you saw was the black of your eyelids, until is was white.

white. pure white.

your finger nails dug into the meat of your palms as the heat spread from your womb to the entirety of your body. every nerve ending and hair rose to the highest point of height they could, and you held your breath. the feeling of immense pleasured you washed over you — wave after wave, after wave, after wave. it hit you, it crashed into you, it fucking drowned you — it swallowed you whole until you were gasping for air. your orgasm was violent — practically mine splitting. you were shaking. you were sensitive beyond belief, beyond repair — and the prickling feeling wouldn’t stop. you were gasping for air as you looked down, only to find carmy’s hand still working between your thigh.

still rubbing those fucking circles.

“c-carmy,” you sputtered, tears wet in the corner of your eye. “please — i c-can’t.”

“shhh,” he whispered. “just keep cumming, baby. just keep cumming for me.”

your chest split open at that, throwing you back against the table top. shivers went up and down your spine as you took carmy’s torture.

“that’s it, baby. that’s it.”

his words were music to your ears as you screamed for him.

“ohh, fucking shit — that’s it —“ he hissed. “just like that. take it all for me — oh, fuck.”

you were dazed and confused on carmy’s table, basically seeing stars. absolutely useless, fucked out beyond words. you felt the weight and warmth of carmy’s body lean over, and rest against yours, as his hips sloppily rocked into you.

you wrapped your legs around the middle of carmy’s back, locking him in place. one hand went to clamp on the back of his head, and the other pressed against the side of his cheek.

against his lips, you whispered, “cum for me, carmy, please. i want to feel you inside of me.”

“good — fucking —“ he grunted, pressing his lips to yours in a farm, hard kiss as he shook. carmy’s tongue shoved itself into your mouth, and down your throat. carmy was everywhere — so deep in every part of you. you hummed with each moan of his you swallowed, rocking your hips against his and rocking him through his orgasm. gasps left his lips as he gripped any part of you he could, doing anything he could to hold onto you and keep you in place.

“holy f-fucking shit,” he gasped against your cheek, pressing kisses to your cheek and the length of your neck. “that — that was — it was so —“

“i know,” you spoke, giggling slightly.

carmy laid his head against your collarbone and you weaved his wet curls around your fingers. he rested fully against you, completely relaxed.

“fuck your friends,” he mumbled. “stay here tonight — as long as, um — you want to, that is.”

your giggle hummed in your chest. carmy’s confidence leaving him in the middle of the sentence surprised you slightly, but not enough to leave you unamused. “‘m not imposin’?”

he chuckled at that, and pulled you up from the table and into his arms. "fuck off."

-----

lmk what you think :) love yall -L

5K notes · View notes

cillianbabe · 2 months

Text

1K notes · View notes

cillianbabe · 2 months

Note

Loading . . . you've got mail!

Look! It's an irish cat twink! 🍭

This is the CUTEST THING 😭😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏🙏

4 notes · View notes

cillianbabe · 2 months

Note

Thank you so much for sending this gif! I adored writing this story (it’s a combination from the gif and an idea someone sent).

Request by @fmo166

⚠️ Smut. Minors DNI

Tommy Shelby x reader

More than words

As you were finishing the last touch up to your makeup, Tommy locked the bedroom door and quietly made his way towards you.

“Shouldn’t you be downstairs with your family?” His lips found their way to your neck as one of his hands moved to the front of your dress, over your breast. Pressing his body into yours, he was so hard already.

“Needed to fuck you first.”

Bending you over your vanity he asked you to lift up your dress while you heard his zipper moving down, watching his reflection in the mirror you found a lot of things in his eyes; lust, passion, desire, he was hungry. His hands pulled down your underwear in a fluid motion and no longer after that, he started to thrust from behind.

The vanity slammed against the wall and your lipstick rolled to the floor and the only thing that could be heard was Tommy’s hard pants as he placed his hand on your hips to keep you still while he was pounding into you from behind. His chest close to your back pushing hard against you.

“Going to fill you up so much…” he groaned in your ear, “that you’ll be leaking my seed for days.”

“Tommy…”

“Yeah… I’m… fuck.” He rocked his hips almost all the way out of you and with a primal force, he slammed back in. “Can you feel that?” He was lost in pleasure. Using your body to satisfy his need.

Placing his hand in your lower abdomen, he could feel himself moving inside of you, hitting you hard over and over, his fast pace not giving you truce.

“Ah.” You moaned in response.

His hand was again on your hip, sinking his fingers on your skin, over your dress while his member moved in and out of you. Straightening his back, he was able to see his movements being reflected in the mirror, your curls bouncing at the rhythm of his thrusts.

“Right there! I’m going to cum.” He announced and in two more deep thrusts his body stilled and you felt his cum flowing inside of you. “Fuck.”

His hot breath in your ear with his elaborated breathing and then… nothing.

Moving away from his body, he soon realized of something important. “You didn’t reach it.” He wasn’t sure if that was a question or a statement.

You were as confused as him, he had a high sexual drive and you matched his. But not this time.

Rearranging your clothes after cleaning yourself, you stayed quiet, but you could feel his intense eyes on your back.

“Let me take care of y-”

Waving your hand off, you tried to act normal. “Your family is waiting downstairs Tommy, they must be starving.”

“Fuck them.” Taking one long stride, he was close to your body, rubbing your arms up and down. “I can make you cum and-”

Your fingers found his tie, you could see the frustration in him growing. “It’s alright, we were in a hurry… you can take care of that later.” Brushing your lips over his, you left him so he could tuck his shirt back on and get ready to join his family for dinner.

During dinner Tommy was unusually quiet, he didn’t even bother to order John to shut up after a good teasing session. Barely touching his food and his answers to Polly’s questions were limited to yes, no, and hmm.

“Did you guys have a fight?” Polly asked you quietly while you went to kitchen for dessert. “I swear to God if he did something…”

“Everything’s fine Pol, don’t worry… you know him, lots of things on his mind.” You assured her, she always picked your side when you and her nephew had a fight.

The loud laughs at the table got your attention.

“Better give them dessert before they start the chanting.”

Walking again with the apple pie into the big dining room, you were meet by Tommy’s ice glance, but it was only by a mere second, because he immediately dragged his eyes to the floor.

His dinner and dessert consisted of three cigarettes and a whiskey.

“Thank you for coming!” You waved the Shelby family goodbye and turned around to find your Tommy with his hands in his pockets looking at the window without really paying attention because the last car was already gone. “Are you coming to bed?”

But he didn’t answer. Was he even blinking?

“Did you hear me, Tom?”

You saw him shaking his head a little. “Sorry what?”

Walking over him, you placed a soft kiss in the corner of his lips. “Bed?” His body was right there, but his mind wasn’t.

“No… I’ll check some papers in my office.” And turning his back at you, he walked off without another word.

Pouring himself a glass of whiskey he couldn’t stop the thoughts running through his mind about what happened earlier. The burning sensation after downing the liquid in record time didn’t make him feel better, all the opposite he felt worse…

Images of your body moving along his playing in the back of his mind, he could smell your perfume miles away, he knew the sweet spots in your body that made you curl your toes and scream his name until you felt like passing out of the pleasure.

Why the fuck couldn’t he make you reach it earlier?

Was it the way he moved?

Too fast? Too slow? Too rough?

Why wasn’t your body shaking in ecstasy, blinded in pleasure?

Wasn’t he enough for you?

And then it hit him, reality turning on all the alarms in his head.

If he couldn’t make you reach your orgasm, how long would it take you to dump him for someone who could?

Setting his eyes into the fire, he let out a loud groan and threw his second glass of whiskey into the fire in front of him, the flames flicking and growing momentarily.

***

“Tom?” Carefully, you touched his arm lightly. “Tommy wake up.”

Gasping, he got up disoriented, he could see daylight through the curtains. His neck hurt, as well as his back.

“Why did you sleep here?” You looked around the office; papers scattered around the floor, the bottle of whiskey open and almost reaching the end, small pieces of glass close to the fire, his tie hanging loose around his neck, a couple of buttons open.

“I stayed up late, working.” He lied and walked past you.

Frances kept you busy, asking for the things you would need for the week, but the moment you were free, you rushed upstairs to find Tommy buttoning his vest and passing his arm through the strap of the holster.

“What do you want for dinner?” You questioned while helping him to put on his jacket.

“I’ll be away a couple of days, Y/N I’ve business to do.”

“Well… what do you want for the day you come back?”

“I don’t know.” Taking his peak cap from your hands, he left without kissing you goodbye.

For the rest of the day you barely existed as your thoughts moved back and forth to what was happening to your relationship with Tommy. Keeping you satisfied was always his priority once the door of the bedroom was closed, and knowing him the way you did, you could tell that it was eating him alive.

But he didn’t come back in two days like he initially assured you, no… it took him five long days to finish whatever he was doing now. Leaving you completely alone until you called Polly to ask if she had any contact with Tommy because he didn’t even call you to let you know. But finally his trip was over and he would be coming back that night.

That’s why at five o’clock you instructed all the maids to go out of the house for a day off and asked them to return the following day after midday, including Frances who refused to leave her job or the house, but somehow you convinced her to visit her sister so without realizing it, you pushed her into your car and asked the driver to take her wherever she needed.

So putting to good use your love for the kitchen, you started to prepare his favorite food and even desert, you barely cooked now because he had hired maids to do those things instead of you.

After tidying up the things you used, you rushed upstairs for a quick bath putting on the perfume that you knew that drove him crazy, some sexy underwear and the fishnet stockings that almost gave him a heart attack the first time he saw you wearing them, and his favorite backless red dress.

You went back to the kitchen to make sure the food wasn’t ready and headed back to your room to curl your hair. After doing your regular makeup routine, you decided to add a neutral lipstick tone. Checking your image one last time in the mirror you were pleased with what was in front of you, you couldn’t wait to see the way his eyes almost popped out of his head.

Dinner was ready so you went to the dining room to set the table, your favorite tableware and his own brand of whiskey.

But 7:30 turned into almost 9 o’clock. The food was cold now and your hopes below the floor. Sleepy and tired, you waited for him in the family room. By 10:32 o’clock you heard the front door open.

“Frances?” Tommy asked confused why the maid didn’t greet him by the door to take his coat and briefcase.

“I told her she had the day off, as well as the rest of the maids.” You announced walking towards him.

His eyes were eating you alive, like he had been in the desert for months.

But soon that look vanished from his eyes.

“I asked the maids to be gone because I wanted to have the whole house for ourselves.”

You wanted to seduce him more than anything, but he looked in the opposite direction.

“I’m going to take a bath.” He announced without a single ounce of emotion in his voice.

“Fine, let me join yo-”

But he cut you off immediately. “I’m tired, Y/N.”

Stopping him by his arm, your lips went to his neck, and your hand straight to his bulge, covered by his trousers. “Let me take care of you tonight, Tommy.”

He took you by the wrists firmly. “Stop this, don’t make this any more embarrassing, Y/N.”

Confused, you followed him into his office. “Why are you saying that? I’d never do anything to make you feel bad. We can solve this.”

“I’m not having this conversation.” He raised his hand, trying to stop you from talking. “This is fucking terrible as it is.”

“You want to know what your real problem is?”

“Course I do!” He admitted throwing his glasses over a pile of too perfectly organized papers on his desk.

“You Mr. I-make-everyone-piss-of-fear, you rely everything in the sexual department… maybe the g-spot isn’t down there, but in the ears.”

“In the ea…-” he repeated not believing your words. “What do you suggest then, ey?”

“Perhaps if you change your methods…”

But if he wasn’t following earlier, he was completely lost now.

“Do you wanna switch positions? You want to be on top?” He paced around the bedroom. “Or do you mean you want to bring someone else into the mix? Because I warn you, I’m not in the mood of a threesome anymore, I was part of more orgies before I met you that I could count… but if that’s what you want…”

“You’re a completely knob Thomas!” You were furious now, how could he think you would want to bring someone in bed with him? “Simple, plain romance! It’s not so hard!” And you walked out of the room with a loud bang of the door. A moment later you opened it again. “I’m not talking about how many rounds you can do, or someone else in the bedroom… When was the last time you told me you love me?”

Tommy stared at the floor long enough for him to recognize it was a long time ago and he couldn’t even remember it… blinking, trying to comprehend what just happened it took him a couple of seconds to follow you, to the guest room where you suddenly decided you were sleeping that night.

“Y/N open up.”

“Go back to your office, maybe your desk will keep your cock warm.” He heard you say from the other side of the door.

Deflated, Tommy walked down the stairs, a heartache he had never felt before. He was just so fucking worried to not being able to satisfy you again, it was terrifying and it made him feel so insecure.

***

The following days you refused go back to your bedroom, and Frances was torn between the two of you, asking you if you would join Tommy for breakfast and you sent your negative answer to him with her. It broke Frances to see the sadness in his eyes when she repeated your words.

“Thank you, Frances.”

“Roses.”

Squinting his eyes, he asked: “Excuse me?”

“Roses are the first step to get a woman’s heart sir.”

When confusion appeared on his face, she explained better: “it’s the simple things in life that really matter; flowers, letters, take her for a picnic.”

“Yeah? No emeralds, dresses, holidays?” He pointed his cigarette at her.

“With all due respect Mr. Shelby… when was the last time you took her on a date?”

Tommy sighed in frustration for being exposed like that.

“Flowers would be a good start. I’ll make you a bouquet in a moment.”

Tommy followed her advice and later that day, he left outside your room a bouquet of fresh flowers, the following one he asked the chef to prepare your favorite food and dessert and he actually made time to have lunch with you, taking you by surprise since he was always working.

“How’s the foundation going?” He asked you with genuine interest.

Shocked by this sudden change of heart, you decided to not be so hard at him. “It’s going good, the girls are happy with the new activities, thank you for the shoes you bought them.”

“Happy to help.” He admitted and you saw him sketch a smile.

“Thank you for my flowers, I loved them.”

Tommy nodded, struggling to form words.

Downing his glass of whiskey, he cleared his throat. “A member of the Parliament is getting married tomorrow, they sent an invitation… do you want to go with me?”

A warm smile started to grow in your lips and you accepted the invitation. “What should I wear?” You didn’t know if it was a wedding at the garden or an etiquette event.

“Doesn’t matter, you’ll look fucking gorgeous either way.” Gathering his courage, he stole a quick kiss before announcing he would get back to work.

He had also prepared a picnic for you one of those days, taking the afternoon off from work, you were surprised by the basket full of fruit, cheese and pastries, he even brought a glass of wine for you and whiskey for him, and you spent the rest of the day laughing and smiling.

***

Leaning his hand over his leg, Tommy was waiting to ask you what tie should he wear to the wedding.

“Well, what do you think?” You asked him from the doorframe, you chose a rustic gold dress with a cape, the moment you saw it at the boutique, you fell in love with it.

“Stunning. Beautiful.” He praised, his eyes looking you up and down.

But soon, his good mood faded away and a melancholic look filled his eyes.

“What’s the problem?” You noticed his change.

“Come back to me please?” Tommy took a deep breath, he needed to open up to you, he needed to be sincere. “It’s been hell without you. Sorry for not-” But you interrupted him.

“Tommy it’s fi…” You wanted to tell him how much it means all the small details he had been having with you.

“Please, let me tell you this.” He pulled you by your hand resting his forehead against the back of your hand. “You’re everything to me, Y/N and I know I don’t tell you this enough…”

He had been hurt in the past, he always needed to live behind a façade as a fearless man, not let anyone see his soft side, he never let anyone see him as vulnerable.

Wrapping his hands around your body, he pulled you closer and rested his forehead against your mid-section. Caressing his head and back, you’ve never seen him like this.

“But believe me when I say that I love you so fucking much.”

His words made its way to your heart.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

“Oh Tom!” Leaning down, you held his face right in front of yours. “I love you too, this is all I needed to hear.” Your lips found his, and it felt like arriving home after a long trip.

“I promise you, there won’t be a day where I don’t tell you how much I love you from now on.”

His words made your heart beat faster, but now you knew that he did not only because he was able to say it out loud, but also because you saw it in every single one of his actions; the lightly touches, the way he looked at you when he thought you didn’t notice, taking time during the day to share a meal, arriving home early… you were able to feel his love in everything he did, because it was written all over him, he showed it to you with more than words.

****

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @datewithgianni @runnning-outof-time @gretelshelby @cloudofdisney @peaky-cillian @lespendy @shelbydelrey @thomashelbyswhore @cillmequick @onlydeadcells @cutecurly-hair @esposadomd

If you want to be added to my tag list, let me know 😉

1K notes · View notes