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queenshelby · 3 hours
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Oh my he’s adorable
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i like my men a little silly and boba-looking
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queenshelby · 2 days
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Story Revival Time
Should I revive ‘The Client’???
I had some ideas about it!
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queenshelby · 8 days
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Used & Abused
Pairing: Dark Thomas Shelby x Reader
Warning: Non-Con, Smut
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"Mr Shelby. It is good to see you again," your father said to the stranger who had, ever since you were there, working on the garments, come to the establishment to buy his suits and sample the prostitutes your father employed.
Thomas Shelby, as he was called, looked around and smiled, his piercing blue eyes twinkling with pleasure.
"Who shall it be for you today, sir? Clara or maybe Nadine?" your father offered, naming two of the most popular girls at the brothel.
But Thomas Shelby’s gaze had shifted to where you stood, sewing away at the corner – you weren’t used to be one of the girls on offer, but you were there today to learn the ropes, as your father had put it.
"What about her? Is she available yet for these kinds of services?" the man asked and it was like a bucket of ice had been dumped over your head. You felt your cheeks burning and your heart thumping.
You weren't ready for this, you told yourself. But then, you never would be. It was your first time and you had to start sometime.
"She's new, sir. But she's willing to learn. And she's young, as you can see," your father said, sounding like he was advertising a brand-new product.
"Well then, come here, Love. Let me have a look at you," Thomas Shelby beckoned you over, his voice deep and seductive.
You took a deep breath and walked up to him, feeling the weight of his eyes on you.
"You are quite the addition, aren't you, eh?" he said, taking in your figure and long hair.
You nodded silently, unable to find your voice.
"How old are you?" Thomas Shelby asked, as you stood there, trembling almost imperceptibly.
"I recently turned eighteen sir," you managed to reply, your voice barely above a whisper.
The man's eyes lit up at your answer, as if you had just confirmed something he had been suspecting.
"Eighteen, eh?" he said, his voice filled with innuendo. "And did you ever have a man's cock inside you before?"
The question took you aback, and you couldn't help but blush at the explicitness of his words. You shook your head, feeling your heart race.
"Well, then," he said, standing up from the chair he had been sitting on. "I think I'll be your first, eh?" 
Your heart pounded even louder in your chest as he approached you, his movements confident and deliberate. You could feel your body tense up as you prepared yourself for what was about to happen.
"Mr Shelby, I do not think that she is quite ready for someone like you yet," your father interjected, but Thomas Shelby just waved him off.
"How much for two hours of her time, Thompson?" he asked, reaching into his coat pocket for his wallet. "I am going to break her in for you, but I want to fuck her ass too," he added, as an afterthought.
Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You had never even had vaginal intercourse before, let alone anal. But you knew that there was no turning back now. You had to do this, for yourself and for your family.
Your father, Mr. Thompson, hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded in agreement. "Two hours for two hundred pounds Mr Shelby," he said, holding out his hand for Thomas Shelby to shake.
Thomas Shelby took his hand and shook it firmly.
"Excellent. Now, why don't you show us to one of the rooms?" Thomas Shelby said, his voice commanding as he led the way.
You followed behind him, feeling your legs shake as you took each step. Your mind was racing, and you felt like you were about to be sick. But you knew you had to push through and do this.
When you entered the room, you saw that it was one of the most luxurious ones in the brothel.
It had dark wooden furniture, a plush four-poster bed swathed in velvet drapes, and gold-rimmed mirrors reflecting the room's opulence back onto every glossy surface. The rich scent of incense lingered in the air, providing respite from the bustling house outside.
You stood there, feeling out of place in the opulent surroundings. Your heart was racing, your mind was whirling, and your body was trembling. But Thomas Shelby didn't seem to notice.
He was too busy taking in every inch of the room with an approving nod.
"This will do quite nicely," he said, before turning his attention back to you.
You could feel his gaze on your body, and you shifted uncomfortably under his stare. "Come here, Love. Let me see what I've paid for."
You hesitated for a moment, but then you stepped closer to him, feeling your heart pound even louder in your chest. He reached out and traced his fingers down your arm, making you shiver with fear.
"Good girl. Now undress," Thomas Shelby said, his voice as smooth as velvet, and yet carrying the weight of an unspoken command.
You hesitated, swallowing hard. The thought of being naked in front of this stranger, of exposing yourself so intimately, made you feel incredibly vulnerable. But you knew that you couldn't afford to be timid. Not if you wanted to make it in this business.
Taking a deep breath, you began to unbutton your dress, moving slowly and deliberately, feeling his eyes on you as you did so. It was as though he was sizing you up, trying to determine your worth.
You wondered if you measured up to the other girls who worked in the brothel. Or did your naivety and youth make you more exotic, more desirable? You felt a wave of anxiety wash over you as you slipped your dress off your shoulders, letting it fall to the ground in a whisper of fabric.
You stood before him, barefoot, wearing only your undergarments.
"Such a pretty thing, aren't you, eh," Thomas Shelby said, his voice low and seductive. 
He traced a finger across the satin of your bra, pressing gently against your nipple until it hardened under his touch. You couldn't help but gasp, feeling desire flood through your body. It was a strange and unfamiliar sensation, yet one that you found yourself craving more of.
"Now, let's get rid of these," Thomas Shelby said, gesturing to your underwear.
You hesitated for a moment, but then you reached behind you and unfastened your bra, letting it fall away from your body. 
"Perfect," Thomas Shelby murmured, his gaze fixed on your breasts.
You felt exposed and vulnerable, but also strangely powerful, knowing that he was looking at you with such unabashed desire. And yet, you knew that this was just the beginning.
Thomas Shelby slipped off his jacket and tossed it aside, before unbuttoning his shirt and rolling up his sleeves, revealing the strong, toned muscles of his forearms. He stepped closer to you, closing the distance between you with a single stride.
"Undo my belt," Thomas Shelby said, his voice low and commanding.
You did as he asked, unfastening the buckle and tugging the leather free from the loops. Your hands trembled as you did so, and you felt a lump form in your throat.
His manhood was already erect, straining against his pants, and you couldn't help but feel a touch of fear creeping in.
"Now, Love, I want you to get down on to your knees for me," Thomas Shelby ordered, his voice firm.
You hesitated for a brief moment, but then you obeyed, sinking down onto the plush rug that adorned the brothel room's floor.
"Take out my cock," he then commanded and you gulped, your hands trembling as you reached for the zipper of his trousers, tugging it down.
Thomas Shelby's manhood sprang free, hard and imposing. You felt a wave of nervousness wash over you, unsure of what to do next.
Thomas Shelby must have sensed your apprehension, as he reached down to gently stroke your cheek.
"Don't be afraid, Love," he murmured, his voice soft and coaxing. "Give it a little stroke," he said and you nodded slowly, taking a deep breath as you wrapped your fingers around his manhood, feeling its warmth and hardness. Thomas Shelby let out a low groan of pleasure, his fingers tightening in your hair as you began to move your hand up and down.
"That's a good girl," he murmured, his voice low and husky.
Encouraged by his words, you continued to stroke him, feeling more confident as each moment passed.
Thomas Shelby, meanwhile, seemed to grow larger with each passing second, his manhood throbbing in your grip.
And then, he tugged gently on your hair, pulling you closer.
"Now, I want you to open your mouth," he instructed, his voice low and firm.
You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. But then, you obediently parted your lips, your heart racing.
He guided his cock towards your waiting lips, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of panic. But you knew that this was part of your job, your duty to him. So, you closed your eyes as he began to thrust in and out of your mouth.
"Relax your lips, Love," Thomas Shelby instructed, his voice barely containing his desire.
You tried your best to comply, even as tears threatened to spill down your cheeks.
You were overwhelmed and under-prepared.
"Keep your mouth open, Love," Thomas Shelby urged, his hips moving faster as he thrust his manhood deeper down your throat. "Nice and wide. That's it."
You tried to comply, but it was difficult. You were not used to this. You gagged and spluttered, tears streaming down your face, as he faced you with a passionately intense expression, his pupils dilated.
The sickening sound of your saliva echoed around the private room of the high-end brothel and you could not help but feel degraded.
Drops of clear salty pre-cum streamed from his swollen tip, as he pumped in and out of your mouth, commanding and selfish until, eventually, Thomas pulled himself out of your mouth with a satisfying "pop" and stroked himself as he watched you.
You tried to stand up, but he held onto your shoulders, practically pinning you to the floor.
"Where are you going Love?" His eyes were wild with desire.
"Suck it, go on," he said as he pushed his hips towards your face, forcing you to return to your given task as you watched some more pre-cum ooze from the head of his manhood.
With your hands now wrapped around his thighs, you began to weave your tongue arround the engorged head of his cock and slowly began to move your mouth up and down, following his rhythm.
Thomas groaned with pleasure.
"Oh, yes. Just like that Love. Take it in deep," he panted as he guided your head forward, encouraging you to pick up the pace.
Your head bobbed up and down, his pubic hairs tickling your nose as you swallowed more of him inside of you.
You felt a strong surge of disgust and humiliation, but you suppressed it, fearing the consequences.
Thomas's grip on your shoulders tightened and he pushed himself further into your mouth. You fought the urge to choke, your mouth opening wider to accommodate his length. The feeling of salty wetness on your tongue grew more frequent, and you could hear his breaths quickening, becoming more shallow and erratic.
"That's enough," Thomas finally said, pulling out of your mouth with a pop.
You fell back onto the plush rug, breathing heavily, your lips feeling sore and swollen.
"It is time for me to fuck that virgin cunt of yours now, eh," Thomas said, his voice a low rumble.
"So take off your panties and lie down for me, Love, and spread those lovely legs so I can get a proper look at you," Thomas Shelby instructed, with that same damn smirk on his face.
You nervously obliged, sweat glistening on your brow, as you slowly slipped out of your lace underwear. The sensation of the plush rug beneath you only amplified the vulnerability you felt as Thomas Shelby's gaze roved over every inch of your naked body.
You tried to shrink yourself, to make yourself smaller so as not to draw attention to the parts of yourself that made you feel exposed and raw. But, still, his attention lingered on those very places, stripping you down even further.
"Lie down I said," Thomas repeated firmly, breaking through the spell.
You did as he told, scooting back onto the bed and reclining against the plush headboard.
Thomas Shelby climbed onto the bed as well, settling himself between your legs.
You could feel your heart hammering in your chest as he gently pushed your knees apart, fully exposing yourself to him for the first time.
Looking down at you, his eyes seemed to darken with desire as he took in the sight of you lying there naked and vulnerable before him.
"You're even more beautiful than I imagined," he murmured, his voice full of gravel.
Holding himself up on one arm, he reached out with the other and traced a finger along the curve of your hip, watching as goosebumps broke out across your skin.
You shivered involuntarily, feeling a mixture of fear and excitement gallop through you.
This was it. There was no turning back now.
"I am going to have a look at your little hole now. Just to make sure that you are ready to be stretched out," Thomas said, pulling out a bottle of lubricant from the nightstand.
He uncapped it and poured a generous amount onto his fingers, the slick substance gliding easily between his digits.
You tensed up, closing your eyes, as Thomas approached your entrance. You weren't prepared for the pain. It burned as Thomas pushed his fingers inside you, opening you up.
His fingers explored your depth, thrusting inward and out, mimicking how he would soon take you entirely.
A streak of blood stained his fingers, betraying your innocence. 
“So you are a virgin, eh,” Thomas murmured with a groan of sheer pleasure, withdrawing his finger before plunging it back inside of you.
"Your tight little cunt is already bleeding, just from being fingered," His grin grew increasingly wicked, his eyes devoid of apology or regret. Instead, he reveled in your helplessness – a youthful pawn to be manipulated and claimed by the wealthy gangster.
"I will need a lot of lube to get my cock in that little hole," Thomas declared nonchalantly before withdrawing his finger and wiping it clean on the sheets.
He reached for the bottle of lubricant and poured a generous amount on his manhood, making sure to coat it thoroughly. You winced at the sight, taking in your newfound reality.
"Don't worry, Love, I know it's a big cock, but it will fit, just take slow and deep breaths," Thomas reassured you, his flashy confidence beating down on you.
He shifted his position, guiding himself towards your entrance.
"Don't fight me, alright?" Thomas asked, his voice thick with lust and anticipation. He didn't wait for an answer before he pushed forward, his manhood breaching your walls and causing you to cry out in pain. 
"Jesus Love, you are tight," Thomas grunted, a look of pure ecstasy on his face as he buried himself deeper inside you.
You felt a burning sensation as he filled you up entirely, your body not used to the intrusion. You bit your lip hard, trying to stifle your cries of discomfort.
Thomas paused for a moment, giving you time to adjust to his size. But then, his instincts took over, and he started to move.
"Fuck, let me have a look at this hole now," he eventually grunted, pulling out and shifting backward.
He brought his swollen, slick manhood into view, before leaning back in and finding your entrance again. Pushing himself inside, he winced at the tightness of your young body - the heat of it clenching around him, as if holding on for dear life.
You let out an involuntary whimper as he thrust into you, your fragile frame protesting the intrusion. Thomas was relentless, though. Driving his manhood mercilessly, over and over with deep, powerful thrusts.
Kneeling in between your open legs, he could watch his cock vanish into your body, reappear, and repeat the process until satisfied.
Your torn opening welcomed him, blushing red and dripping. He liked that you looked tender and abused, the way his movements had marked you.
He wondered if thoughts had occurred to you, even once, about changing your mind about this line of work. But it was far too late for that.
He leaned back, staring at your stretched out body beneath him.
Your breaths came out ragged, muffled sobs that somehow turned him on.
You were a novelty to him, a conquest in the form of a vulnerable young woman.
Streaks of blood painted his manhood, leaving no doubt that he had successfully claimed his prize. Your body shook with sobs, the pain of your first time magnified by the size of him. It wasn't a pleasurable experience, not like the stories whispered between girls in hushed, excited tones. It was a violation, a forceful claiming.
"Fuck, Love, you feel so good around my cock," Thomas grunted, his voice syrupy with lust.
His hips moved like a mediocre piston machine, the searing pain between your thighs making it difficult for you to breathe.
You bit down on your bottom lip, tears streaming down your cheeks.
The headboard knocked against the wall harshly with every thrust and your heart raced like a fugitive.
You closed your eyes, shutting out the image of Thomas looking triumphant between your spread legs.
You were in too much pain to say anything, your entire body stiffening under his touch as tears streamed down your cheeks.
You could hear the wet sounds of him ravaging you, the scent of sex permeating the air.
He gripped your hips, pulling you closer as he moved rhythmically, his every thrust jarring you to the core.
It burned to be ripped open like this, your body unused to the violent invasion until, suddenly, he pulled out and reached for the lubricant again.
"Turn around now, Love, and get on your hands and knees," Thomas instructed you, his voice hoarse with lust.
You hesitantly complied, your heart pounding in your chest as you positioned yourself on the bed, your bottom sticking up in the air.
Thomas didn't waste any time, pouring more lubricant onto his slick manhood and rubbing it in.
"Nice and slow, Let me in," Thomas said, his voice a desperate whisper.
Without warning, he guided himself towards your exposed rear this time, the head of his manhood pressing against your tight entrance.
"Relax, Love," Thomas whispered. "It'll hurt less if you do."
You took a deep breath, trying to relax your muscles as Thomas slowly pushed himself inside you. The sensation was intense and foreign, a new kind of fullness that made you clench up despite your best efforts.
Thomas groaned as he entered you, his rhythm slow and steady.
"Fuck," he muttered while you choked back your tears. "You're so tight, so fucking tight."
The aching sensation burned within you as Thomas thrust deeper inside. Your knuckles were white from gripping the sheets, but you focused on the pain to keep yourself grounded in reality. His hands dug into your waist, pulling you back with each forward motion, creating a brutal rhythm you'd never imagine could exist in the world.
Thomas was completely consumed by the animalistic need to dominate. He ignored the sound of your ragged breathing and tears on your pillow. Why someone chose to put their penis into one's anus was always a mystery to you, but you supposed that some people just had certain tastes. And Thomas Shelby seemed to have quite the acquired taste.
"Oh, fuck. You have no idea how good this feels," he groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he continued to thrust in and out of you.
With each movement, you could feel yourself being stretched even further, your body protesting as Thomas took what he desired.
"It's almost over Love,"
Thomas grunted as he picked up his pace, the headboard battering against the wall with a loud thud, threatening to break free from its hinges.
You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to focus on anything but the burning pain inside your bowels. 
Thomas's breathing grew labored, his movements more urgent as he chased his release.
"Yes, Love! I'm going cum!" Thomas called out, grabbing onto your hair and giving it a firm tug. "Deep inside your bowels," he growled, emptying himself into you with a shudder.
You could feel him pulsating deep inside of you, filling you up with his warm release. Your body felt battered and bruised, a testament to the brutal invasion it had just endured.
Thomas slowly pulled out of you, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips. You could feel him slip out of your body, leaving behind a gaping void.
You immediately collapsed onto the bed, your entire body trembling as tears of pain and humiliation continued to stream down your cheeks.
"Let me see, Love," he demanded, his voice still thick with desire. He reached between your legs, roughly spreading your cheeks apart, examining his work.
You couldn't help but let out a pitiful sob, feeling disgust and shame rising within you.
Thomas ran his fingers over your rear entrance, causing you to wince, before slowly pushing slowly pushing his fingers inside, causing you to whimper.
"See, it's not so bad, now is it?" Thomas said, his voice dripping with false concern as he collected some of his cum from inside your anus.
He sighed contentedly, savoring his conquest as he withdrew his finger and brought it up to your lips.
You recoiled as he first made contact, but he grabbed your chin and forced his finger into your mouth, smearing your cheeks and mouth with his cum.
"Such a dirty little girl," Thomas murmured, his deep voice reverberating through the room. He continued his assault on your senses, tracing your lips with his cum, forcing you to taste him, making you accept what had happened between you two.
"I will be back tomorrow for some more," he then announced, his voice full of satisfaction as he stood up and began dressing.
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queenshelby · 8 days
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The Babysitter (Part 5)
Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Babysitter/School Student (18)
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Later that night, when you arrived at your house just before nine as promised, you went straight to the bathroom. You undressed, staring at yourself in the mirror, tracing your fingers over the red, raw marks on your hips, your ass, your neck.
You thought about the way he'd made you beg, the way his hand had tightened around your throat as he came, filling you with his hot, sticky load the third time you fucked that same evening. 
You felt a sense of shame wash over you, but also a secret thrill at the thought of what you had let him do to you.
As you washed yourself, you couldn't help but remember how you had felt when he first propositioned you with that sickening offer. How wrestling with your conscience had only heightened your attraction to him and now he even wanted you to spend an entire weekend with him for a whopping $1,000.
There was just one catch, though. You would be joining him an his family on a getaway to Killarney under the disguise to babysit their children during the day.
Then, after his wife would go to bed, he would sneak into your room for a whole other type of playtime.
It was a sick, twisted idea, and yet you couldn't help but feel drawn to it.
You weren't sure if it was the money, the thrill, or the forbidden nature of it all that so tantalized you.
You were caught between your moral compass and the promise of the kind of pleasure you never thought possible.
The thought of spending an entire weekend with Cillian, playing his little secret game, was both terrifying and irresistible. You couldn't deny the way your body responded to him, the way your heart raced every time he came near you. You wanted him, more than you ever wanted anything before. And so you agreed.
When you arrived at the holiday house with the Murphys, you spent some time with the children just as Danielle had requested while Cillian and her went to town to do indulge in some shopping.
The children adored you, and you found yourself relaxing in their presence. They were a welcome relief from the tension that seemed to have taken up residence between you and Cillian since that day.
Then, later that day, when Cillian and Danielle returned to the house however, you could feel Cillian's eyes on you as you helped Danielle prepare dinner. Cooking together with Cillian's wife was a distracting sensation, one that had you dropping utensils and forgetting simple tasks.
Danielle, however, did not seem to notice your clumsiness and distraction much. She was too busy chatting with her husband about their new purchases, laughing and joking with him in a way that seemed too familiar, too intimate.
It took all of your willpower not to turn and stare, to drink in the sight of him standing there, so close yet so far away.
Cillian, the man who paid you for sex, was a family man nonetheless and interacting with him around the kids as well as his wife required a certain level of composure and restraint that you tried hard to maintain. 
Dinner passed without incident. You conversed and laughed with Danielle, all the while feeling Cillian's gaze on you, burning holes through your skin.
Occasionally, he would catch your eye and give you a knowing smirk, one that sent chills down your spine and made you squirm in your seat.
After dinner, the family gathered in the living room to watch a movie. You sat on the couch next to Cillian, feeling his thigh press against yours.
Every so often, he would give it a subtle squeeze, causing your heart to jump in your chest and your breath to hitch.
The flick on screen was a romantic comedy, a genre you had never much cared for, but tonight it seemed to consume you until, finally, Danielle announced to the children that was time for bed.
"Big day tomorrow," she declared with a bright smile. "They have horseback riding lessons planned!"
Cillian stood as well, stretching his arms above his head. It was a subtle, intimate movement that had you imagining far more than you should have. Your cheeks flushed with guilt as he caught you staring, and you quickly averted your gaze, unable to hold his.
"You should head to bed as well, Y/N," he urged, the seduction in his voice barely hidden beneath his seemingly kind sentiment. "My best guess is that the kids will be up early tomorrow. They usually are," he added, a small, hardly-there smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
Without thinking, you nodded. "You are probably right," you said before wishing them both a good night and walking off.
The moment the guest bedroom door closed behind you, you leaned back against the cool wood, trying to steady your breathing and calm the storm of emotions roaring within you.
After getting changed into your pajamas, you slipped beneath the sheets, lying on your back and staring up at the ceiling.
The house was quiet now, save for the distant murmur of voices coming from the television in the living room and, it wasn't until you had almost fallen asleep that you heard the soft click of the guest bedroom door opening.
You held your breath, listening as footsteps padding quietly across the room, growing steadily louder as they approached the side of the bed.
The mattress dipped slightly, jolting you awake as you felt the weight of a body settling down next to you.
You turned around and faced Cillian, his eyes gleaming in the low light of the room as, slowly, he pushed your blanket aside.
You couldn't see his expression, but you could sense his hunger, the way he was devouring you with his gaze.
His hand reached out and traced the outline of your jaw, gently caressing your cheek before sliding down your neck, tickling the sensitive skin there and causing you to shudder. Goosebumps rose on your arms as his hand lingered on your shoulder before traveling down, tracing a path across your collarbone.
"I've been thinking about this all day," he whispered, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.
"I can't stop thinking about that sweet little pussy of yours, about how you took all of me like a good girl."
His hand slid lower, snaking beneath the hem of your tank top to cup your breast.
You gasped at the sudden contact, your breath hitching in your throat as he squeezed.
His thumb flicked over your nipple, teasing it into a hard point.
"I can't wait to fuck you again," he murmured, his other hand reaching down and beneath the hem of your PJ shorts.
"Cillian," you protested weakly, but you didn't push him away. You couldn't. Not when your body was already responding to his touch, your nipples hardening to stiff peaks beneath your tank top.
"You have such a perfect little pussy," Cillian murmured, his fingers tracing patterns over your sensitive skin. You felt a surge of pleasure as he found your clit, rubbing it gently.
You moaned softly, your hips bucking involuntarily as he continued teasing you.
Cillian chuckled, a wicked gleam in his eyes.
"Mmm, I take it you like that?" he asked, flicking your clit with his fingers.
You bit your lip, nodding.
Cillian smirked, a triumphant look on his face as he continued to touch you, his fingers exploring your aching pussy. You felt yourself growing wet, your body begging for more. You tried to resist, to remember why this was a bad idea, but it was no use. Your body betrayed your mind, craving the pleasure only Cillian could give you.
"Now, be a good girl and get on to your hands and knees for me," Cillian instructed, his voice low and commanding.
You complied, feeling vulnerable yet thrilled at the same time as Cillian positioned himself behind you and pulled down your shorts.
He trailed his fingers lightly down the curve of your buttocks, making you gasp in pleasure. His touch was intoxicating and you couldn't help but feel a wave of desire wash over you.
"You need to be nice and quiet for me," he told you as he pushed down his briefs too, revealing his hard, throbbing erection. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him, making your heart race in anticipation.
"My wife is asleep next door," he murmured, rubbing the tip of his cock against your slick folds. "And she can't know what we're doing. Do you understand?"
You nodded frantically, unable to speak as he pushed himself inside of you.
He filled you up completely, stretching you out in the most delicious way possible.
"Good girl," he groaned, thrusting in and out of you with a slow, steady rhythm.
"I will use that tight pussy of yours first and then I will put my cock in that sweet little ass of yours again," he promised, his voice heavy with lust.
You could feel him bottoming out inside of you, the tips of his fingers digging into your hips as he held you in place.
This was wrong on so many levels, and yet, you couldn't deny the way your body was responding to him. You felt like a live wire, every nerve ending sizzling and sparking with pleasure.
Cillian's thrusts grew harder, faster, and you could feel yourself climbing higher and higher towards your peak.
Your fingers clenched the bedsheets as you buried your face into the pillow, stifling your moans and whimpers as best as you could until, eventually, he pulled out of you with a satisfied grunt.
You felt empty and used, your pussy throbbing and raw from the force of his lovemaking.
"Now, I didn't bring any lube for your ass, but no doubt we can make do with some spit," Cillian murmured, his voice low and sultry as he spread your ass cheeks apart, revealing your small rosebud. 
"Now hold still," he told you before, suddenly, he delved down and his wet tongue swirled around the puckered entrance, causing you to jump in surprise.
"Cillian, no... I-I don't think-" you stammered, but your protest was cut short as he pushed his thumb inside your ass, breaching the tight ring of muscle with a satisfying pop.
You bit your lip, tears springing to your eyes as he worked his thumb back and forth, stretching you gently.
"Shh, just relax. It's okay. Just breathe," Cillian whispered, his other hand coming to rest on your lower back, holding you in place as he continued to prepare you for what was to come.
His thumb slipped out of you, leaving you feeling empty once more. But the sensation was short-lived as he replaced it with the head of his cock, pushing against your tight entrance.
You tensed, your body instinctively resisting the intrusion, but Cillian didn't falter. He held still for a moment, giving you time to adjust before continuing to press forward.
You felt a burning sensation, a mix of pain and pleasure as he breached your tight hole. Your body quivered beneath his touch, but you didn't protest. Instead, you allowed yourself to submit to his dominance, his mastery over your body.
"That's it, good girl," Cillian cooed as he forced his way into your anal cavity.  "Take it all in. You know you want it."
You moaned in response, your body shuddering with a strange mixture of pleasure and pain as he fully entered you. You felt completely filled, stretched beyond what you thought was possible. And yet, you couldn't deny the growing feeling of arousal that was building up inside of you.
Cillian began to move, his hips rocking back and forth as he started to thrust into your ass. Each movement was deliberate, calculated, as if he was trying to draw out every sensation possible.
"My wife would never let me do this to her," Cillian murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "But you are such a dirty little girl, aren't you?"
Cillian growled, his voice low and dangerous.
You didn't respond, instead biting your lip and trying to focus on anything but the feeling of him inside you. It was too much, too intense. You felt like you were losing yourself, drowning in a sea of pleasure.
"Answer me, Y/N," Cillian demanded, his thrusts growing harder. "Are you a dirty girl?"
"Yes," you whispered, the word barely audible.
"Yes, what?" he snarled, gripping your hips tightly.
"Tell me what you are."
"I'm a dirty girl," you repeated, your voice stronger this time.
"Good," Cillian growled, his thrusts becoming more brutal. "Now, cum for me. I want to feel you clench around my cock."
You nodded, unable to speak as a wave of pleasure crashed over you. You felt yourself being pushed to the brink, your body trembling uncontrollably as Cillian continued to pound into you.
It was a strange mixture of pleasure and pain, one that you couldn't quite put your finger on. You felt dirty, used, and ashamed - but you also felt alive.
"That's right, cum for me," Cillian groaned, his voice low and guttural as he thrust deeper into you. His fingers dug into your hips, leaving bruises on your skin. The pain only served to heighten your pleasure, your body trembling as you reached your peak.
You felt yourself clench around him, your muscles tightening as you came undone.
You screamed into the pillow, muffling the sound of your release. You felt like you were on fire, your entire body alight with pleasure.
Cillian groaned, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he reached the edge. He held onto your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he filled you up with his seed. You felt every pulse, every spurt as he emptied himself into your tight channel. 
Finally, he stilled, his breath hot against your back as he caught his breath. He pulled out of you, leaving you feeling empty and used.
"Show me that gaping hole of yours," Cillian demanded as he reached for the bedside lamp, pulling it closer to get a better view.
You hesitated, but eventually you obeyed and spread your ass-cheeks apart for him.
Your body was still sensitive from the intense orgasm he had given you, and you whimpered softly as the cold air hit your exposed hole.
Cillian let out a low groan, admiring his handiwork. "Look at that, so perfect and red, leaking my cum. I knew you would love taking my cock in this tight little hole."
Cillian ran a finger along the rim of your abused entrance, admiring the reddened, glistening mess his pornographic fantasies had reduced your body to.
You shuddered, the sensation of his warm, rough finger so close to your still contracting opening causing your breath to hitch as you tried to pull away.
"We should get some sleep," you whispered, the words coming out as a cracked wheeze as you tried to stifle your shame and disgust.
Cillian grabbed your wrist, preventing you from moving away as he brought his cum soaked fingers to your mouth.
"Clean them," he ordered.
You hesitated for a brief moment before you parted your lips and wrapped them around his digits. You could taste yourself and Cillian on your skin and it made your stomach twist.
"Good girl," Cillian praised, his voice laced with satisfaction.
He then placed a chaste kiss on your forehead and left the room. You were left alone in the dimly lit room, your body feeling sore and your mind reeling from what had just transpired.
What had you just done? Was this who you truly were? A naive 18-year-old who sells her body to an older man in exchange for money and pleasures of the flesh?
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
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queenshelby · 8 days
Text
Our Little Secret (Part 33)
Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader
Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap,
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"Alright, let's eat," Cillian's father announced, bringing everyone back to reality but Frank shook his head.
"You cannot possibly pretend that you are okay with this, dad!" he said, looking at his father with anger.  "How can you sit here and pretend that this is okay? This is my stepdaughter for Christ's sake!" he spat, gesturing to you and Cillian before dropping another insult. 
"But hey, bravo, Y/N! Your slutty behavior got you a sugar and a baby daddy, all in one, so I am sure you are proud of yourself," Frank went on, causing Cillian's face to grow dark with anger.
"Shut up, Frank," Cillian ground out, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. "This is the mother of my child who you are talking about," he snapped, before turning to you and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder and you couldn't help but feel your heart sink at Frank's harsh words. You had never intended to cause any problems or hurt anyone's feelings, especially not Cillian's family. But it seemed that no matter what you did, you couldn't escape the judgment and criticism.
"Yes, she is because, clearly, she is too young and naive to use birth control," Frank sneered, not holding back any punches.
You could feel the tension in the room growing as Cillian's grip on your shoulder tightened.
"Please, Frank, enough," Cillian said, his voice strained but Frank was not listening.
"No, Cillian! You slept with a fucking child and don't see anything wrong with it," Frank shouted, unable to control his anger.
Cillian's grip on my shoulder tightened further, his body rigid with fury as he glared at his brother. "Frank, I said enough," he growled, his voice dangerously low.
But Frank was not deterred. He pointed a finger at you, his eyes filled with disgust and contempt. "And you, Y/N. You think this is all just a game, don't you?" he asked while even your mother tried to hold him back.
"No Frank, I don't think that this is a game at all and I am no child. I am adult and have been for quite some time. I never asked for anything from you and mum and I never asked for anything from Cillian either. I was going to have an abortion and get on with my life, but you know what?" you suddenly stood up, causing the entire room to fall silent as you took a deep breath, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped down your cheek. "I am glad that Cillian stopped me from being so selfish. He wanted me to keep the baby and I am glad that I did as we both love her unconditionally, which is not something that seems to be the norm when it comes to my own upbringing," you stated, holding Mara tighter as she snuggled herself comfortably against your chest. "Nobody has ever wanted me for who I am. First my mother sent me overseas, then my father sent me back and then the two of you kicked me out because I fell for a man I shouldn't have. But you know what - I thank for it now because I am happy for once, with your brother, so there is that. You can keep on ranting all you want Frank, but nothing is going to change," you continued, speaking your mind before taking a deep breath, leaving everyone else in the room speechless. 
"I am sorry for ruining your birthday," you then finally said to Cillian's mother, knowing that all this trouble and rage was the result of your presence.
"Don't be silly," Cillian's mother replied with a smile, patting your hand comfortingly. "Family is always messy. Always will be. Family drama is nothing new for me. Besides, I am glad that you and Mara are here. She's quite something," she said fondly, admiring a sleeping Mara while Frank rolled his eyes.
"Whatever," Frank muttered, pushing his chair back and standing up abruptly. "I can't handle this crap anymore." he asked angrily, gesturing toward you with a flick of his wrist before walking off. He clearly needed to calm down and collect himself before returning to the table but, honestly, you couldn't care less about his feelings in that moment.
You were fed up with his constant judgement and criticism. Fed up with him acting like he had some sort of authority over you. Fed up with being treated like a child instead of the adult that you were. You deserved respect and dignity, just like everyone else.
"Let's just enjoy the rest of our breakfast," Cillian's father suggested, trying to diffuse the tension but your heart was still racing with anger and frustration.
You barely touched your food as you couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt and sadness wash over you. This wasn't how you wanted things to go. You didn't want to cause a scene or upset anyone, but sometimes the truth can be hurtful.
After breakfast, your mother excused herself to check on Frank, leaving you and Cillian alone with his parents at the table.
You could feel the tension radiating from Cillian's body as his grip on his coffee cup grew tighter and tighter.
"I'm sorry," you whispered softly, reaching out to take his hand in yours. "I didn't mean to make things any worse by speaking up," you told him but he turned to you, his eyes filled with sadness and regret. 
"No, you did the right thing," he said, squeezing your hand. "You did well," Cillian assured you, leaning over to press a soft kiss to your temple. But you couldn't shake off the guilt and sadness.
"I just wish things could be different," you said quietly, staring down at your untouched plate.
"Hey," Cillian said, lifting your chin with his finger to look at him. "Things are different. We are different. And that's okay because we are together. We have each other and we have Mara," he reassured you, his gaze steady while his mother looked on with awe. 
"Thank you," you whispered, leaning into his touch as you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down.
The rest of the day passed by in a blur as everyone tried their best to avoid any further confrontations. Your mother and you were careful to avoid any topics that might trigger Frank and Cillian's parents were equally cautious not to upset anyone as you celebrated Cillian's mother's birthday. 
As the day drew to a close, you found yourself lying in bed next to Cillian, your bodies entwined as you tried to drift off to sleep.
Mara was fast asleep in her crib, her soft breathsicle lullaby that filled the air.
You couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you as you listened to Cillian's steady heartbeat, your bodies pressed close together. You trailed your fingers gently up and down his chest, marveling at the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.
Despite everything that had happened earlier in the day, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Cillian's presence in your life. You wouldn't have changed anything, not even the mistakes you had made. 
Because they had led you to Cillian, and he was worth it all. You shifted closer to him, your breasts brushing against his chest, your nipples hardening at the contact. Cillian's grip on you tightened, and you felt him stirring against your hips.
You had been brave today, louder and stronger than you ever thought possible, and now it was time to let go. 
"I love you Y/N," Cillian murmured, caressing your face gently as he traced your lips with his thumb, and you couldn't help but feel a thrill run down your spine.
"I want you so bad," you whispered in response, your eyes glazing over with desire.
"I want you too babe, but you know we can't. You haven't healed yet," Cillian reminded you, his voice heavy with restraint.
"Yes, I do know that. But it doesn't mean I can't still pleasure you," you murmured suggestively, pressing a soft kiss to his chest and causing Cillian to groan.
"No, please. I want to wait until I can be inside you again," Cillian pleaded, but you could hear the desire in his voice, the longing.
You traced your fingers up his chest, teasingly, before resting your hand on his crotch. You could feel his erection, hard and straining against his boxers, and you couldn't help but feel a thrill of power.
"Fuck Y/N, you are not playing a fair game," Cillian gasped as you traced your fingers over his length, feeling him twitch beneath your touch.
"Why should I? You are the one denying me something I want so badly," you replied, keeping your voice low and seductive.
You could hear the struggle in Cillian's voice as he tried to resist your touch.
"Mara," he gasped, reminding you of your daughter sleeping soundly in her crib.
You glanced over at your baby, but saw that she was still fast asleep, her breathing deep and steady.
"She's asleep. You just have to be quiet," you told him.  You wanted him, needed him, and you were determined to have him.
Slowly, you pulled down his boxers, exposing his erect cock to the cool air.
Cillian hissed at the contact, his hips jerking slightly as you wrapped your hand around his shaft.
"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, his voice low and deep.
You smirked at him, your hand moving slowly up and down his length, feeling him grow harder and harder in your grasp.
"Sshh," you murmured, your lips brushing against his ear.
Cillian's breathing grew labored, his fingers tightening in the sheets as you continued to stroke him.
"I don't know if I can keep quiet," he admitted, his voice strained.
You chuckled softly in response, your hand continuing to move up and down his length.
"Well, you better find a way," you whispered, leaning in to brush a kiss against his lips.
Cillian groaned as you deepened the kiss, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair. You could feel his hips thrusting upwards, seeking more friction as you continued to stroke him.
Breaking the kiss, you trailed your lips down his chest, your tongue flicking out to taste his skin.
"I need you to cum down my throat so that we don't stain your parents' sheets," you whispered hoarsely, your hand still working its magic on his cock as you adjusted your position.
Cillian hissed at your words, his hips bucking upwards as you took him into your mouth.
You sucked him deep, your tongue swirling around his tip as you tasted his arousal.
"Yes, just like that," Cillian groaned, his fingers tightening in your hair as you took him deeper into your mouth.
You hollowed out your cheeks, creating a vacuum as you sucked him harder and faster.
"Fuck, Y/N," Cillian hissed, "I am close." 
You moaned in response, your hand still working its magic on his base as you sucked him deeper.
Cillian couldn't hold back any longer. With a strangled cry, he came down your throat, his cum filling your mouth as you swallowed every last drop.
You released him with a pop, licking your lips clean as you looked up at him with a satisfied grin.
Cillian's chest was heaving as he looked down at you, a mixture of lust and admiration in his eyes.
"You are unbelievable," he said, his voice husky with pleasure.
You grinned up at him, feeling empowered by your ability to make him lose control like that. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," you teased, running your fingers along his thighs.
Cillian's hands were still gripping the sheets tightly, and you could see that he was still partially hard. "Do you want more?" you asked, raising an eyebrow seductively.
"No," he replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "But I want to return the favor when we get back home tomorrow," he told you, ensuring to place emphasis on those words.
"I am still bleeding Cillian," you told him as you leaned your head against his shoulder.
"I know," Cillian assured you before planting a kiss on your forehead. "But I've got an idea," he said, a mischievous look in his eye before pulling you closer into his arms.
The two of you lay there for a few moments, enjoying each other's warmth and comfort before the sound of a door opening caught your attention followed by two familiar voices, arguing with one another.
"I am so sick of this, Frank," your mother said, her voice strained. "You cannot keep behaving like this. It's not fair. She is still my daughter," she went on, her voice cracking as she tried to hold back tears.
"She might be your daughter but she is clearly out of line, whoring around with my brother, a 46-year old man," Frank retorted harshly, causing you to flinch at his cruel words.
"Enough," Cillian barked, his voice firm as he got out of bed abruptly before walking towards the door to address your mother and Frank who smelled of alcohol. 
"Frank, I don't know what your problem is, but I am tired of this bullshit," Cillian said as his face twisted in anger, which is when Frank leashed out towards Cillian without warning, swinging his fist towards his jaw.
The yelling woke up Mara, causing her to start crying at the top of her lungs just as, suddenly, you heard a loud thud. 
"Oh my god Frank, what did you do?" you then heard your mother shout as Mara's cries filled the house and you quickly picked her up before racing out of the room to see the damage that had been done.
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
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queenshelby · 8 days
Text
An Illicit Affair
Part 25: Shock
Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)
Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity
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Two days had passed since your run in with Max that morning and, whilst Cillian was unsuccessfully trying to mend his relationship with his son, you couldn't help but try and come to terms with how quickly everything had disintegrated.
And yet, you couldn't stay away from this man, and neither could he from you. He was your forbidden fruit, your vice, your addiction, and no matter how reprehensible your actions were, you couldn't bring yourself to walk away from him. 
As such, just before your night shift on a Wednesday, you visited him at his apartment again, enjoying Cillian's company and a lovely dinner he had cooked for you. You shared so many more lighthearted stories that later afternoon. 
The mood between you and Cillian was relaxed and easy, and despite the weight of the situation with Max, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the time you had together.
You spoke softly, sharing secrets and laughing. Cillian held your hand, tracing circles on your palm with his thumb, simply enjoying your company. 
You were already in your scrubs, your hair tied up in a messy bun, while he was dressed casually in a white shirt paired with dark jeans.
His gaze was warm, and he leaned back in his chair, sipping his wine as he continued to listen to you, always eager to learn more about you, to know what was inside that brilliant mind of yours.
The dynamic between the two of you had changed from purely sexual to something else entirely over the past few weeks. There was a connection, a bond that neither of you could deny, and it had only grown stronger over time. You were in love with one another and even Max knew it since you had told him. 
The sounds of your laughter filled the room, mixing with the soft jazz music playing in the background. Cillian's eyes lit up at your joy and he found himself mesmerized by the sparkle in your eyes.
In that moment, all of his worries about his troubled family dynamics faded away as if it was nothing more than a distant memory. 
Eventually though, you had to leave for your shift. Cillian helped you with your coat, kissing you softly before letting you out of his apartment.
You smiled softly at him, your heart swelling with love for this kind, intelligent, and charming man. Your fingers brushed over his cheek as you leaned up for a kiss, the taste of wine still on his lips.
Then, you took the elevator downstairs and stepped out into the crisp London evening, taking a deep breath as you slung your bag over your shoulder. The lights from the city twinkled in your eyes, the excitement of the city an intoxicating buzz in the air.
The next bus stop was only a short walk away from the apartment building but, just as you crossed the street, a car came out of nowhere, speeding towards you, and, before you could react, it hit you.
Your body was thrown into the air, pain spreading through your body like a raging fire, and time seemed to slow down.
You barely had any time to process what was happening. The impact of your body hitting the pavement was intense and brutal, pain shooting through you as you cried out. The car sped away, not stopping to see if you were okay, leaving you lying there, injured which is when your vision blurred.
"Ma'am," another woman's voice echoed in the distance. "Ma'am, can you hear me?" the same voice called out, slightly louder this time, but you failed to react.
"Someone call an ambulance," a man's voice shouted, and panic set in amongst the crowd that had gathered around you.
You could feel the warmth of your own blood pooling around you, sticky and thick, and you struggled to breathe.
The sounds of the world around you grew muffled, with the throbbing pain in your leg growing increasingly overwhelming until it consumed you entirely, plunging you into darkness.
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
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queenshelby · 8 days
Note
some examples of the non con tommy shelby arranged marriage is killing me softly by brummie reader. It’s also a dark storyline so i think you can get an idea, or also check out Mercy by zablife or someone it’s also non con
I need to check that out!
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queenshelby · 8 days
Note
how about Cill with innocent and religious also maybe best friends daughter reader (above 18 ofc)
Hmm I like a little age gap kinky virginity stuff haha 😆 and will definitely write that
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queenshelby · 8 days
Note
Is it weird that I feel jealous whenever Mandy shows up in The Basement? What’s so special about her anyway?😒
Absolutely not weird at all! She’s his assistant and we want this dominant man to ourselves
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queenshelby · 8 days
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Hey! Do you take requests? I have one! A jealous husband Cillian thinking that his wife is cheating on him. He gets angry, possessive and territorial. And maybe he decides to punish the reader for going out with a male colleague? 🙈🙈🙈
Oh yes that actually sounds kinda hot! But what could the punishment involve? Hmm 🤔
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queenshelby · 8 days
Note
I remember you have a series called the Client or something where Cillian is a lawyer and reader escapes her abusive, It was so good and exciting would you please consider continuing it ? Xx
I actually thought about this series the other day. There are so many I want to pick up again but I’ve also noticed that following has dropped significantly accross the board in the fandom. Coming up with ideas and plots is so hard and I often wonder what I could come up with to make people interact. I might take it back up if the interest is there… x
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queenshelby · 9 days
Note
When will be getting another chapter of Our Little Secret? 🤭
Probably tomorrow I am working on it xx
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queenshelby · 9 days
Note
Hello. Hope you are well. I have a question: what are watersports?
Watersports is essentially urine play 😆
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queenshelby · 9 days
Text
The Director (Part Eight)
Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader
Warning: Infidelity, Domestic Abuse, Violence
The following morning, you successfully sneaked from Cillian's room back to yours to have a shower and get ready for work, making sure that no one caught you.
You were stunned at what you had done, your actions unfathomable even for yourself.
But as you looked at your reflection in the mirror, you couldn't ignore the satisfaction and excitement that shone in your eyes. You couldn't deny it, not after last night. You felt alive again, like a woman who had rediscovered her own power and femininity.
You didn't want to admit it to yourself but, in the back of your mind, you couldn't help but compare the two men in your life now. Your husband, James, was an actor too with a privileged background. He was an arrogant, entitled, and abusive man who often used his connections to get what he wanted. On the rare occasion he made you sleep with him, he only ever cared about his needs and rarely bothered to listen to yours. You would lie there, feeling degraded, questioning if this was truly the life you wanted for yourself.
Cillian, on the other hand, was an entirely different experience. He was empathetic and kind. He treated you as an equal, cared about your desires and needs, and valued your thoughts- something that was foreign and refreshing in this world. But, at the end of the day, Cillian was also a taken man, and you had to remind yourself that what you had between the two of you wasn't necessarily love, but a fleeting passion that would eventually fade.
You splashed cold water on your face, feeling the sting of reality setting in. You could not let yourself get carried away, you had responsibilities to attend to, namely your children and your career. 
As you walked towards set however, the sounds of the set buzzing with activity, you couldn't help but think back to last night. The way Cillian's eyes had burned with lust, the way he had touched you, kissed you; it had felt like fireworks going off inside you.
Your stomach clenched just thinking about it, your body reacting to the memories. It wasn't just the sex either, although God, that had been amazing. It was the way he had looked at you, the way he had talked to you, like you were the only person in the world that mattered in that very moment.
But of course, you knew that what you were doing with Cillian, was dangerous. You were married, after all, to a man who had the power and influence to ruin you both with one phone call to his father, the headcof Universal Studios. James had a reputation for getting what he wanted, and he would stop at nothing to keep you in line if he was to find out.
"Y/N? Hello? Are you listening?" one of the set runners asked, interrupting your thoughts. You blinked, snapping back to reality, and turned to face the young man with a smile.
"Yes, sorry. What did you say?" You asked, feeling a twinge of guilt for letting your mind wander during work hours.
The runner looked at you curiously for a moment before repeating his question, 
"Scene 78 requires an extra, are we using the same one from yesterday?" he asked and you quickly nodded, mentally shaking off the lingering desire from the previous night.
"Yes, that's correct. Thank you for double-checking," you confirmed just before the runner nodded and hurried off to attend to his duties, leaving you to continue yours.
As you walk through the set, you couldn't help but steal glances at Cillian across the room.
He was fully engrossed in his script but occasionally looked up, meeting your gaze with a coy smile.
Eventually, when he was finished rehearsing internally, he stood up and approached you to talk.
It was small talk or work-related talk mostly throughout the day and, even in spite of his professionalism, the chemistry between you two was palpable, and neither of you could ignore it.
While the rest of the set focused on their various tasks, the two of you were in a bubble whenever you had a chat. You found yourself eagerly anticipating the opportunities when you might exchange a glance, a smile, or a brief conversation throughout the day. 
You were both fully aware of the illicit nature of the feelings that blossomed between you and, yet, you were each bound to other people, locked into toxic relationships that stifled your true selves.
But in those stolen moments with one another, even if brief, you could be free. You could be honest, and genuine, and vulnerable. You could feel the depth of your emotions, and it was terrifying, but exhilarating all the same.
"What time do you finish off?" Cillian asked quietly after he had just wrapped up his final scene for the day. His gaze fervently searched for yours, his eyes communicating something unspoken, a raw longing that caused your heart to skip a beat.
"In about an hour or so," you replied, your voice hushed. 
"Do you, uhm..." Cillian began to say and, before he even had a chance to finish his sentence, you nodded shyly.
"Yes," you whispered, looking around furtively to ensure nobody saw your exchange.
Cillian mirrored your movements, a small smile forming on his lips.
"I see you soon," he said, dropping his voice even further.
"Yes," you whispered again, smiling and blushing slightly. 
Cillian returned the smile, nodding, before turning to leave. As he walked away, you couldn't help but admire the view. His lean figure was accentuated by his fitted jeans and a black t-shirt, and the sight made your heart race. You shook yourself slightly, trying to refocus on your job just as Emily came swinging by.
"Checking out Cillian's rear end?" she said while giving you a sly smile and, immediately, you blushed, realizing that you had been caught. 
"Me?" you asked, feigning innocence. "No, of course not."
Emily chuckled and raised an eyebrow at you. "Oh, come on, don't play coy with me," she said. "I've seen the way you look at him and it's perfectly fine," she laughed, giving me a knowing wink.
"I don't know what you're talking about," you said, feeling my cheeks grow hot.
"Uh-huh," Emily responded, grinning from ear to ear. "Well, I'll leave you to it then. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," she added with a wink before sashaying away.
Was it this obvious, you wondered, your heart racing in your chest. But then again, you concluded, why would it matter? You were allowed to 'window shop around' as Emily so politely put it. No one knew that you were actually trying on the goods without committing to purchase.
Later that evening, after you finished up for the day, you went to your room to freshen up before, once again tippy-toeing your way to Cillian's suite.
This time, he greeted you with a soft, inviting kiss while, at the same time, pulling you inside and you were quick to shut the door behind you.
"So this," you whispered against his lips as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close, "is going to be a regular thing then?" 
Cillian nipped lightly at your bottom lip, eliciting a soft gasp from you as he replied, "If that's what you want, then yes."
"Yes," you murmured back before you leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. Your hands found their way up his chest, feeling his heartbeat through the fabric of his shirt. Cillian's hands roamed down to your hips, his grip firm and confident.
"Good," he added, pulling back to look into your eyes. "But we need to be careful. We can't let this become a scandal," he told you and you nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.
"I know," you whispered. "There is too much to lose," you acknowledged the unspoken fears between you both.
Cillian leaned in and kissed you softly. "There is," he murmured against your lips, "too much to lose," he confirmed, but even as he said it, he couldn't resist the pull you had on him. He wrapped his arms around you, deepening the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth.
You responded eagerly, your arms snaking around his neck as you stood on tiptoe to get closer. You were lost in the moment, your body buzzing with desire, and the rest of the world faded away.
"You are so good at this," you murmured against his lips, pulling back just enough to speak.
Cillian smiled against your mouth, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. "Well, you do bring out the best in me," he chuckled, although you could hear the sincerity in his voice and feel it too, in his touch.
As you stood there, wrapped up in each other, you couldn't help but think about how difficult it would be to tear yourself away from him. But you knew that you would have to, sooner or later.
For now, though, you just wanted to revel in the moment and indulge in the pleasure that Cillian offered so willingly. You traced your fingers over the ridges of his abdomen, feeling the muscles tighten under your touch. Cillian groaned softly, his grip on you tightening as he pulled you closer.
You could already feel his erection press against your stomach through the denim of his jeans. 
You wanted to tear his clothes off and devour him then and there, but something told you to slow down and enjoy every moment of this forbidden weakness.
You pulled away gently, taking a step back to look at him. He looked so handsome, standing there with a slightly flushed face and half-lidded eyes. His hair was disheveled from your hands running through it, and his lips looked swollen from your kisses.
"What?" he
asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes searched yours, looking for any indication as to why you had pulled away.
"I just - god you are so handsome," you said, biting your lower lip as your gaze lingered on his defined jawline.
Cillian took a step forward, closing the gap between the two of you.
"Fuck, I don't do well with compliments, but I am glad you think so," he murmured, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face.
His touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself inching closer to him, your body craving his touch.
"Well, you better get used to it," you murmured, your voice low and sultry. "Because I plan on giving you plenty more compliments."
Cillian's eyes darkened with desire, and he stepped closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.
"I'll hold you to that," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.
Your heart skipped a beat, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the second.
Cillian's grip on your hip tightened, as if he was trying to steady himself on the rocking ship that your senses had become. The tension between you two was palpable, and the anticipation of what was sure to be an unforgettable night was almost unbearable.
You pulled yourself away from Cillian's grasp, taking a deep breath before walking to the bed. Slowly, seductively, you removed your clothing, watching as Cillian's gaze followed your every movement.
"What are you waiting for?" you asked, your voice a husky whisper that made Cillian's heart race. He didn't need any further encouragement.
He crossed the room, closing the distance between you in two strides. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close and claiming your lips with a fierce, passionate kiss. You sank into him, your body trembling with anticipation as you quickly pulled on the hem of his t-shirt, tugging it over his head.
Cillian broke the kiss long enough to pull his t-shirt over his head before sweeping you off your feet and pushing you onto the bed. You giggled, the sound light and airy as he trailed kisses down your neck.
You could feel the tension building between you, your breath hitching as he slowly kissed a path down your chest, pausing to lavish attention on your breasts before continuing his journey downwards.
You arched into his touch, your hands weaving through his hair as you held him close, relishing the feel of his lips on your skin. Every touch, every kiss, sent jolts of pleasure coursing through your body, and you knew that this was going to be a long night.
Cillian's fingers danced over your skin as he explored your body, his touch igniting flames of desire that threatened to consume you both.
"Spread your legs for me," he growled, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.
You eagerly obeyed, parting your thighs as he settled himself between them. His gaze was conflicting, yearning to savor every moment of what he was about to do, but also greedy for more.
He teased you with gentle strokes, lingering at your entrance before pulling back. You couldn't wait any longer, your body craved his touch, so you lifted your hips, urging him to give you what you needed.
Cillian didn't disappoint. He slid a finger inside you, then two, his pace increasing as he felt you grow wetter and wetter. Your moans filled the room, the sound of your pleasure spurring him on. He watched your face as you writhed on the bed, your back arching beautifully as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.
"Please, Cillian," you begged, unable to form a coherent sentence as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body.
His mouth soon joined  his fingers, and you felt your legs tremble as he expertly brought you to the brink of release. You called out his name, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you, desperately trying to hold on to some semblance of control.
But it was too late. The tension inside you snapped, and you cried out loudly as your orgasm washed over you, leaving you a quivering, boneless mess.
Cillian crawled up to you, kissing you softly as you came back down to earth.
The taste of your release on his lips only heightened your desire for him, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.
Cillian pulled away, his gaze intense as he whispered, "I want to be inside you."
You nodded, unable to form actual words as you eagerly spread your legs wider, inviting him in. Cillian finally removed his jeans, followed by his briefs, both in haste, before 
settling himself between your thighs. He was heavily aroused, and you couldn't help but admire his body.
"Cillian," you whispered, reaching up towards him. He lowered himself onto you, his weight a comforting presence as he claimed your lips in a passionate kiss. You could feel his arousal nudge at your entrance, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
Cillian entered you gently, his movements slow and deliberate as he took in the sighs and whimpers of your pleasure.
Your bodies fit together perfectly, completely synchronized as he moved inside you. Your hips rose to meet his every thrust, your breath hitching as he drove deeper, harder, faster.
Your fingers traced patterns on his back, pulling him closer with each thrust as your legs tightened around him. His movements were fluid, deliberate, as he pistoned in and out of you. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, accompanied by the guttural moans and pants that escaped both of you.
Eventually, you pushed him off and then underneath you, seeking to take charge. Cillian seemed surprised for a moment but then gave in to your enthusiasm.
You rode him, your hips grinding and swaying in powerful, erotic motions. The sight of you taking him like that had Cillian begging for mercy, but you merely smirked and quickened the pace.
As you approached climax, your body buckled, and you uttered a garbled cry, your head thrown back with pleasure. Cillian was not far behind, his own internal battle lost as he beneath released a guttural yell.
"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, his eyes screwed shut and body stiffening as he came. You slammed yourself down on him one final time, depositing the last fraction of pleasure in a shockwave through your still-tingling body.
Your bodies, both slick with sweat and panting heavily, refused to separate, maintaining that intimate bond still long after the two of you had reached your climax. You sat there, motionless, floating in an abyss of euphoric bliss until, suddenly, you gasped and rolled off him.
"Oh my god I just had an idea," you excitedly declared, while he looked at you dumbfoundedly, his body still spent from the substantial ninety-minute lovemaking session.
You jumped off the bed completely and started pacing, muttering and mumbling your thoughts aloud. he asked with a puzzled look on his face.
"It's for the movie!" you shrieked, a triumphant smile spreading across your features. "For the scene between you and Flo tomorrow," you elaborated, and Cillian looked at you quizzically for a moment, still basking in the post-coital fog.
"You just had an idea for a sex-scene that I am in with another woman," he chuckled while, slowly, sitting up in bed. "Right after we had sex," he then pointed out , shaking his head in slight disbelief as if weighing up whether or not to be entertained by this sudden turn of events.
You stopped your pacing and looked at him, that unwavering determination in your eyes. "Yes," you confirmed, nodding, and then letting out a slightly embarrassed laugh. "Just hear me out, okay?" you told him before outlining the particular changes to him, hoping that Christopher Nolan would agree with your ideas.
Cillian listened attentively, nodding along as you spoke before throwing out his own thoughts on the scene. His voice was calm and gentle, his tone easy as he expressed his frustration over how the scene felt forced and artificial the first time it was filmed, which is why Chris himself was unhappy with it as well, requesting a re-shoot. 
"Exactly!" you exclaimed, causing his eyes to light up in surprise before a knowing smile spread across his face. "But, let's just see what Chris thinks of this new approach first before I get too carried away with all this" you told him, although the excited gleam in your eyes betrayed your true thoughts.
Cillian just smiled at you, amused by your enthusiasm and completely taken by your passion and creativity. It was just another endearing facet to the complex character that was you. Always caring, always determined, and hardly ever backing away from a challenge.
You spent the night with Cillian again that night, enjoying his closeness even while you were asleep, wrapped in his arms until your alarm went off at 4 o'clock. 
You got up, feeling content and full of energy. Today was going to be an exciting day but, just as you tried to silently sneak out of Cillian's room, you ran into Emily in the hallway. 
You froze, a wave of guilt washing over you as you tried to think up an excuse for retreating from Cillian's room at around 4.15am for which, of course, there was none.
Your hair was messy, as if you had just woken up which, of course, you did. You even smelled of him, his aftershave and natural scent from the night you shared. 
Emily opened her mouth, arguably about to interrogate you on why you were sneaking out of your colleague's room, but you cut her off with an innocent smile.
"Hi, Em. I was, uhm... I couldn't sleep so...," you began to say, causing her to giggle.
"My lips are sealed," she chuckled, quite literally making a zipper motion over her lips. "I didn't see anything," she added sheepishly, retracting the zipper and smile mischievously at you.
Your cheeks flushed and, once again, you were struck with that overwhelming feeling of guilt. 
"Thank you, Em," you replied, low and barely above a whisper before you hurried away from her, feeling both embarrassed and anxious about having been caught.
You knew that Emily would keep this to herself, but you couldn't quite shake off the guilt that gnawed at you.
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queenshelby · 9 days
Text
Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)
PART 52: A SOLUTION
Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader
Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Miscarriage
PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!
The following morning, you woke up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and bacon wafting through the house.
Cillian had gone for his morning run, leaving your mother alone in the kitchen, humming softly to herself while she prepared breakfast.
Her voice carried through the open door, reminding you of simpler times.
You shuffled downstairs, rubbing sleep from your eyes.
"Morning, sleepyhead," your mother greeted you cheerfully, her eyes lighting up when she saw you.
"Smells amazing," you said, leaning against the counter and watching her work. "I don't usually eat much for breakfast," you admitted though, "but I think I might make an exception today," you laughed, your mouth watering at the sight of golden, crispy bacon.
"I made enough for three," your mother remarked, sliding a steaming plate of eggs, ham, and sausages onto the table. 
"Cillian should be back soon from his run," your mother noted, her brow furrowing slightly. "It is good to see that he keeps fit at his age you know," she added, pausing to sip her tea. "I met a lot of other older men that don't take care of themselves and that's not good," she mused, her eyes straying towards the window.
"He isn't that old mum," you chuckled, sitting down across from her and taking a bite of your sausage.
"Oh no darling, I didn't mean it that way. I am just saying that it is good to keep fit at his age - or at any age really," your mother corrected herself quickly, noticing the sudden change in your expression. "If he keeps fit, it will be easier for him to chase after your little chicos and chicas when the time comes, you know," she joked, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
"Speaking of which," your mother added, lowering her voice, "Are there any in the making?" she wanted to know, desperate to have some grandchildren in her life  now that her family was reunited.
"Well," you hesitated, your fork hovering precariously above your plate. "No," you sighed before turning quiet for a moment, thinking about your recent miscarriage. 
You felt the weight of your loss return as a lump formed in your throat. You thought about telling your mother about it, but the words wouldn't come out. 
"Maybe one day," you murmured noncommittally, averting your gaze from your mother's probing gaze as, finally, Cillian barged through the door, sweating slightly from exhaustion.
"Maybe one day?" Cillian repeated, only having caught the tail-end of the conversation.
"I just asked my daughter if and when you were planning to have children," your mother answered with a playful wink, openly teasing you both in a way that a mother does to her adult children, not knowing about your pain and heartache.
Cillian, however, could not hide his surprise as, suddenly, the mood changed and even your mother picked up on the cues.
Although she did not know about the miscarriages, she realized that something was amiss, clouding her own previous excitement.
"Did I say something wrong my dear?" your mother asked you gently as she reached for your hand across the table. "You look upset all of a sudden," she noted, her eyebrows furrowing in concern.
You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. "No, it's just...it's a long story," you said, pulling your hand away from hers and wiping your eyes.
Cillian walked over to you and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We recently lost our baby," he began without finishing his sentence. "I mean, Y/N had a miscarriage. She wasn't that far along but we were both pretty excited," he told your mother softly, regret and sadness etched on his face.
Your mother's expression changed upon hearing Cillian's words, registering immediate concern and sympathy. "Oh my sweet child! I am so sorry," she exclaimed, getting up from her seat and moving to hug you tightly. "But, you are still young and you can try again," she offered, trying to remain hopeful despite your sadness but, as she spoke, tears welled up in both your eyes, falling like gentle rain onto your hands.
"No we can't," you replied, managing a weak half-smile, even as the tears continued to stream down your face, and a heaviness settled in your heart.
"Why ever not?" your mum questioned, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes, her curious gaze switching to Cillian's who remained silent while comforting you. 
"It had already happened before, mum. We lost another baby a while back. I had to have an operation then and was told that I probably cannot have a child of my own," you confided in your mother, your voice trembling as you spoke, both of you acutely aware that you had yet to fully process your pain and heartache.
"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry," your mother whispered, drawing you close to her once more as you began to sob uncontrollably, overcome by a surge of emotions you did not even realize you had been suppressing.
"It's okay, it's okay, my love," she murmured, stroking your hair gently as she rocked you back and forth.
Cillian stepped forward, one hand still on your shoulder as he offered the box of tissues from the table to your mother. "Thank you," she mouthed silently, taking a couple of tissues and dabbing at your eyes delicately.
As the initial wave of sorrow began to subside, you pulled back slightly, looking first at your mother and then at Cillian, who was still standing by your side.
"We might find a way," Cillian muttered, gazing down at you. "A surrogate, adoption, I don't know, but we are going to be parents together if this is what you want," he vowed, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly.
"Yes, darling. There are many ways to become a parent," your mother promised, her expression full of determination. "But let's not talk about it now," she urged, sensing that this conversation had become too much for you both.
"Let's have a nice breakfast and then we can go out for a walk," she suggested instead, taking a steadying breath.
The atmosphere in the room shifted, lighter, as a sense of calm embraced you all.
You welcomed your mother's gesture with a small nod, tucking into your breakfast as Cillian took a seat quietly beside you.
The rest of the meal passed without further conversation, but the silence was companionship, and not awkwardness.
Your mother's touch had a calming effect on you, and, as you finished your food, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Cillian's unwavering support and love. You took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as your shoulders slumped, easing the tension that had built up over the night and into the morning.
After breakfast, the three of you took a leisurely stroll down the beach, enjoying the sunshine that bathed the shore with light and warmth. You stayed close to Cillian, his presence soothing as his fingers laced through yours.
Your thumb traced circles on the back of his hand, a silent acknowledgment of his comfort. 
Your mother walked beside you, the three of you in a line with the vast expanse of the ocean. She observed how much you seemingly loved one another and how committed you both were, which granted her a certain degree of pleasure.
Knowing that you were safe, loved and happy made her happy.
Your mother had waited for years to watch her daughter grow up, to meet the right person, and to flourish under their love.
Throughout the walk, she sometimes fell behind, pretending to tie her shoelaces or to search for an interesting pebble, all while observing you both and the deep intimacy you shared.
You didn't have to be overly affectionate for her to understand.
It was the way you two walked together, side by side, with your fingers still laced together, how your bodies naturally gravitated towards each other's presence.
At one point, your hand moved away to adjust your cardigan and your mother watched as, even without words, Cillian wordlessly reached for your hand again when you were done, lifting it up to kiss it gently.
You smiled in response, your eyes locked onto his before switching to the horizon beyond.
The breeze of the morning carried with it a serene coolness, catapulting sprays of water into the air where the waves crashed on the rocks nearby. A flock of birds burst into flight, the tide retreating as the sun shone all the more radiantly in a cornflower blue sky reflecting its warm glow onto the endless, sandy beach ahead of you.
You looked back, seeing your mother contentedly watching the two of you, silently drawing assurance from the evident love between you and Cillian. She smiled gently, and you returned her smile with a grateful one.
Тhe rest of the day passed in a haze of bliss familiarity, and comfort before, for dinner, your mother decided to prepare a traditional South American meal for you all. 
The scent of paprika, cumin, and garlic wafted from the kitchen, opening a portal in time for you, transporting you back to a childhood, the time before you were taken from her. 
"You know, I was thinking that, maybe I have a solution," your mother announced, breaking the silence of your collective reverie, refocusing your attention, as you handed her an avocado and a bottle of red wine.
"What do you mean mum?" you asked curiously, wondering where she was going with this.
"I meant that, if you want to be parents together then I may have a solution for that," she replied with a meaningful smile, as she began to slice the avocado skilfully. 
"Mum, I thought we are not going to talk about this now," you reminded her softly, trying to steer the conversation away from this painful topic. But Cillian, keen on hearing what she had to say, encouraged her to continue.
"Please, Y/N, let her finish," he said gently, holding your hand as your mother turned towards Cillian and nodded appreciatively.
"Well, as I was saying, I've been thinking and, I know that this might sound a little controversial, but you could adopt an infant from where you are from, for money. It isn't cheap, but it would help support someone in need and you would get a beautiful child," she explained, her voice echoing the determination that she had shown earlier.
Cillian and you exchanged a glance, shocked at her proposition yet also intrigued. Adopting a child was something that had always been a possibility, but adopting a child from South America where adoption was not regulated seemed risky and overwhelming to say the least.
"Mum, that's a really kind offer," you said thoughtfully, weighing your options. "But are you sure it's legal? And how would we get the baby out of the country? I don't think it's as simple as just buying a baby and then taking it on a plane back home," you explained, expressing your concerns openly, trying to stay grounded and clear-headed in the moment.
"There are agencies who deal with everything and since abortion is still illegal back home there are, unfortunately, so many children who need loving families," your mother persisted, channeling her inner authority as she held your gaze. "And if you can provide a loving and safe home for a child, then it would be a worthy cause, don't you think?"
You looked to Cillian, expecting him to share your reluctance, but instead found him nodding thoughtfully.
"It's not a bad idea, actually," he said, surprising you. "I know a few people in the industry who have adopted children from overseas before, and they had good experiences with it," Cillian told you, wanting you to consider your mother's proposal. 
"I don't know, Cillian. It sounds like a slippery slope. I mean, how can you be sure that the money is going to the right place and not just lining some corrupt official's pockets?" you asked, furrowing your brow.
"And what about the mother? I mean, I was given away as a young child, against my mother's will," you pointed out, recalling the tragic turn of events that had separated you from your mother so long ago. "What is if the mother of our child would be forced to give up her baby because of money?" you pondered, a pained expression crossing your face. "I couldn't live with myself if I did that to someone."
"Well, I also have a solution for that," your mother interrupted softly, as she stopped slicing the avocado, setting it aside as she turned to you both, taking a deep breath before continuing.
"What if you adopt a baby who was given up willingly by someone I know? Someone who wants to put her child up for adoption?" your mother continued, maintaining eye contact as Cillian and you stared at her, wide-eyed. "I know a woman who is expecting her fifth child and she had been saving money for an illegal abortion. Perhaps she would change her mind if she knows that there's a loving couple who would adopt her baby," your mother explained delicately, her voice calm, and measured, yet tinged with a hint of hope.
The idea caught you off guard, and you exchanged a glance with Cillian, who seemed to be just as surprised.
"I don't know, mum. We need to think about this," you finally managed to say, your voice trailing off as you glanced towards Cillian for support.
Cillian looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding. It was a lot to digest this unexpected proposition and Cillian knew not to push you. 
Following your lead, he held your hand reassuringly. He felt the slight tremble in your fingertips as you both contemplated this new path while your mother finished cooking. It was something you knew you should consider but, at the same time, it was information too heavy to fully grasp while your guard was down.
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queenshelby · 10 days
Note
Heyy first I wanted to reach out and thank you for your awesome fics!! I love to read all of them especially the one relating to Oppenheimer. I wanted to ask if I missed anything from The Director because are you continuing it? Last I was at chapter 6 I think. Love ur writing sooooo much thank u for posting and beeing you <3
Thank you so much 😊 there is a part seven too it’s here and yes I am continuing it
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queenshelby · 10 days
Text
An Illicit Affair
Part 24: Love & Tears
Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)
Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity
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Getting through work that day was difficult, every movement magnified in its struggle. The weight of your feelings pressing on your chest as if someone was sitting on top of you, making every task ten times harder.
Eventually, the day came to an end and Emma accompanied you home where you had an almost ice cold shower - the water hitting your sensitive, overwrought skin was a cruel reminder of your sleepless night and emotionally exhausting day.
What Max had said to you played on your mind
in an infinite loop, the words forcing you to question yourself and your actions as well as the consequences of what you had done.
As you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, the condensation fogging up the glass, making it difficult to see your reflection clearly, you couldn't help but wonder if there would ever be a time when you would be able to move past this and find some semblance of peace and contentment. And you also wondered whether Cillian and you could ever have more than just stolen moments and secret rendezvous. 
Exhausted, both physically and emotionally, you got out of the shower and toweled off, your body aching for solace of some sort. Reaching for your phone, you contemplated sending a message to Cillian, seeking his comfort in the face of what happened. You were craving to see him, to be held in his embrace, to lose yourself in his piercing gaze and feel his lips on your skin.
But you hesitated. You remembered what his lawyer had said but complying with this request was difficult to say the least. 
Thus, pushing the doubts to the back of your mind, you crafted the text: 'Hey. Can we meet tonight? I really need to see you.
After pressing send, you hesitantly set your phone down and retreated to your bedroom, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited anxiously for Cillian's response. It was as if every second that ticked by was an eternity, and you couldn't help but feel a creeping sense of doubt settling over you.  But then, just as you were about to give up hope, you heard the familiar chime of your phone, signaling a new message.
It was Cillian. Your heart leapt with joy as you read his response, suggesting that you come over to his place now that he had it scanned for cameras.
"I will see you shortly," you texted back in response, your fingers flying over the screen with an eager certainty before you called an Uber
to take you to Cillian's apartment.
As you got dressed, you realized that the physical and emotional turmoil of the day had taken a toll on you. You opted for a more comfortable outfit—a loose-fitting jumper and a pair of slim-fit jeans paired with some Converses. You pulled your hair into a messy bun and applied a touch of makeup to conceal the remnants of your emotional breakdown earlier in the day.
When you arrived, Cillian opened the door, his eyes scanning your tired yet beautiful face. He could that something was wrong, but before he could ask, you wrapped yourself around him, your arms tight around his waist, your face buried in his neck. You let out a deep, shuddering breath, feeling his warmth and solidity grounding you, offering the solace that you craved. His strong hands stroked your back, the tender touch calming you, as if the mere act of his gentle touch could heal your ragged heart.
"I am sorry. I know I should be staying away but I needed - oh god I don't even know what I need," you whispered against his neck as he pushed the door shut while, at the same time, never letting go of you.
He then leaned back and tilted your face to look into his eyes. Concern etched in fine lines around his mouth and the tiny creases around his piercing blue eyes. His short hair slightly disheveled from you running your fingers through it nervously. Your hands on his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart below his shirt.
"It's okay," Cillian assured you, his voice soothing and steady as you pulled back slightly, looking up at him with gratitude in your eyes.
"I am so sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling. 
"For what?" Cillian questioned gently, tracing the curve of your cheek with his thumb as he spoke.
You shook your head, feeling tears brimming in the corners of your eyes.
"For everything," you whispered, the gravity of those two words carrying a burden that threatened to crash down on you at any moment. "For involving myself in all this and causing so much drama in your family," you continued, the weight of responsibility settling heavily on your shoulders.
Cillian frowned, a pained expression flickering across his face.
"Y/N," he began, his voice low and measured. "I made a choice when I got involved with you and whatever is happening in my family right now is my fault and my problem, not yours," Cillian told you emphatically. His eyes bore into yours, holding your gaze with unwavering intensity. It was his way of trying to comfort you, to relieve you of the guilt that you were feeling.
But it didn't completely dissipate the burden on your shoulders.
"I saw Max today," you told Cillian, your voice barely above a whisper as the memory of the confrontation still weighed heavily on your heart. "He blames me for breaking up you and Danielle and I feel as though I did exactly that," you confessed, your voice cracking with emotion.
"Hey," Cillian said softly, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Max is upset right now and needs time to process what's happening," he told you, his voice soothing as he tried to provide some comfort. "Despite, he doesn't know everything that has been going on between Danielle and myself in the last few years," Cillian admitted, taking a deep breath.
You looked at him in surprise, realizing that there was still so much about Cillian's life that you were oblivious to. "What do you mean?" You asked him, your curiosity piqued.
Cillian hesitated for a brief moment before deciding to come clean with you. "He knows about her inflicting injuries to herself on purpose, but he does not why is doing it nor does he know the extent of it all or how long this has been going on. He thinks that it is attention seeking behavior because I am cheating on her, but he does not know about the threats she has made nor did I tell him about the cameras and a few other things his mother pulled over the years," Cillian confessed, pausing for a moment as he gathered his thoughts.
"After my career took off, she changed and became increasingly paranoid—always checking up on me and accusing me of cheating on her, which I never did. Not until now. It just got worse from there and sometimes she even took out her frustration and anger on me. I wish I could've left her sooner, but it was not that easy," Cillian continued, the depth of pain and weariness in his voice palpable.
"When you came to the hospital, you said that you got hurt while preventing her from hurting yourself," you recalled softly., causing Cillian to sigh deeply and nod.
"Yes, I did and there is some truth to it. When I saw her with the knife that night, I thought that she was going to cut herself again," Cillian confessed, taking a deep breath. "So, I tried to get the knife away from her and she lashed out at me but, trust me, this was nothing," he continued, his voice weary and pained, hinting at deeper, darker secrets.
"She would do this all the time, even when Max was still a child. She would hurt herself so badly that she would need emergency care, but once she was inside the ER and knew she had my attention, she would snap out of it," Cillian recounted, his memories dark. "Other time, she would just yell, and shout, and throw stuff at me until I conceded and pretended that I was going to 'agree' to her demands so that she would calm down," Cillian told you more honestly than ever before. "I tried to shield Max from most of this and I still want him not be burdened by it. He hates me, he doesn't need to hate his mother as well," Cillian said very softly, looking at you with a mixture of sadness and regret in his eyes.
You couldn't imagine how difficult this must have been for Cillian, being trapped in this toxic dynamic for so long and constantly walking on eggshells to keep Max from finding out about the true extent of his mother's erratic and volatile behavior.
As you looked into his eyes, you could see the strain and the weight of his burden, the sadness that he carried around for far too long.
"Is this why you sent him to boarding school? To get him away from Danielle?" you asked, gently tracing a finger over the faint dark circles that lingered underneath his piercing blue eyes.
Cillian nodded. "I wanted him to be safe and have a normal childhood," he explained.
"He hated you for that, for making him live away from home," you said softly, recalling Max's own words.
"I know," Cillian sighed, his shoulders sagging as the weight of his mistake pressed upon him. "But it seemed like the right thing to do at the time, for Max's safety and wellbeing," Cillian admitted bitterly.
"I understand," you assured him, squeezing his hand softly. "It's not easy trying to protect someone you love, especially if they don't understand the reasons behind it," you continued softly, threading your fingers through his as you offered him a small, comforting smile.
Cillian simply took a deep breath and met your gaze, returning your tender smile with one of his own before sighing heavily.
"So, I am sorry that Max is blaming you now. I should have told him about his mother's twisted game when I had the chance last week,"
Cillian lamented, guilt reflected in his piercing blue eyes. "I will talk to him tomorrow," he added determinedly but you shook your head. 
"No," you insisted quietly, surprising both yourself and Cillian with the strength of your conviction. "It's best if you allow him to cool down for now and tell him in time," you told him, understanding Cillian's reasoning better now. 
Cillian looked at you, his gaze softening even further, if that was at all possible. "Are you sure?" he asked gently.
You nodded, squeezing his hand in reassurance. "Yes. It's best for now," you agreed, leaning against Cillian's chest, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.
He sighed deeply, his chest rising and falling against your back as he wrapped his arms tighter around you.
Eventually, Cillian broke the silence. "You know," he murmured softly while caressing your hair, his tone intimate. "I really have fallen hard for you, Y/N," Cillian then tightened his embrace around you, pulling you closer. "You are perfect in every way," he whispered, his fingers tingling on your skin.
You couldn't help but smile, enjoying the feeling of Cillian's hands on your skin. "I love you," you admitted quietly, and he looked at you, his beautiful blue eyes filled with warmth and desire.
Cillian leaned down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, his fingers gently tangled in your hair. You responded eagerly, deepening the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
"I love you too," Cillian murmured against your lips before, slowly, indulging in the kiss again. 
The world around you disappeared, and there was only you and Cillian, the reality barely brushing the surface of your consciousness as you got lost in the adrenaline, the desire, the taste and feel of Cillian.
Before long, your bodies moved in sync with one another, the kisses growing more passionate and heated.
"Bedroom?" you asked as, eventually, the passion between you was burning with an intensity that was hard to resist.
Cillian nodded his reply, not trusting himself to speak.
He loosened his embrace, taking your hand to guide you towards his bedroom.
Each step they took seemed to be in slow motion, stretching out the anticipation. The air buzzed with an electric energy, like the moment right before a lightning storm started to rage.
Cillian softly closed the bedroom door, locking out the outside world and all its concerns. His gaze did not leave yours as he tugged you gently toward the bed and all you wanted right now was for him to make gentle and passionate love to you. 
His touch was so gentle making the anticipation of what was about to happen almost unbearable.
As he pulled you down onto the bed, you found yourself mesmerized by the intensity of his gaze, feeling like time had slowed down and you were just the two of them against the world.
"Cillian," you breathed, as you felt his lips brush against yours, slowly, deliberately, in a way that was more erotic than it had any right to be.
"Yes?" Cillian murmured against your lips as you whispered his name. His hands roamed over your body, leaving hot trails of desire in their wake.
You arched against him, your body begging for more.
"Make love to me," you whispered, your voice trembling with need.
Cillian groaned at your words and deepened the kiss. His body pressed against yours, his hardness rubbing up against your core, sending waves of pleasure through your entire being.
You gasped, breaking the kiss as you felt Cillian's fingers slip under your shirt, trailing gently across your skin.
He caressed your breast, his thumb brushing against your nipple as the heat between you intensified.
Cillian watched you as he did this and the way your eyes fluttered closed as a shudder ran through you, was the biggest turn-on for him.
"You are so beautiful," he whispered, his voice husky with desire as he leaned down to kiss your neck, his stubble scraping against your skin, causing you to shiver with delight.
His lips found yours again, his tongue delving deep into your mouth, exploring every inch of it.
His hands continued their exploration of your body, sliding lower to pull at the waistband of your jeans. And the moment he managed to slip his fingers beneath the denim, you gasped, arching against him.
"Please," you whispered against his lips, your voice almost a whimper.
Cillian didn't need any more encouragement. He undressed you slowly, his gaze never leaving yours as he revealed your naked body. He slipped off his own clothes before climbing back onto the bed, covering your body with his.
You couldn't help but marvel at the feeling of his skin against yours, every touch sending waves of desire pulsing through you.
You ran your hands over his back, feeling the muscles tense and relax under your fingers as he shifted above you.
Cillian's lips found yours again, his kiss gentle but demanding. His tongue danced with yours, exploring every inch of your mouth as if he was trying to memorize every detail.
Your hips rose to meet his, grinding against him as the heat between you threatened to consume you both.
You reveled in the feeling of his hardness pressed against your center, each exhale a soft moan as you arched up into him.
Cillian's hand slipped between you, fingers finding your slick folds and rubbing gently at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasped, your hips bucking against him as waves of pleasure washed over you.
"Cillian," you breathed, your voice a trembling whisper as he slipped a finger inside you, his thumb still circling your clit.
"Oh god," you gasped, your fingers digging into his back as you arched up into him, chasing the pleasure that was building inside you.
Cillian's lips slipped from yours as he watched you, his eyes dark with desire. He added a second finger, your slickness making the motion easy as a soft moan escaped from your lips, your back bowing off the mattress.
"Please, I need you inside me," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper.
Cillian groaned, the sound low and primal as he withdrew his fingers and positioned himself at your entrance.
He pushed in slowly, the feeling of being joined with Cillian again was tantalizing and exquisite, leaving you breathless and wanting more.
As he started to move, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you. You could feel every stroke in your very core as the two of you moved together, your bodies as one.
You continued like this for almost an hour, slow and sensual. The rhythm was perfect and, eventually, when you were ready to let go, Cillian pushed you closer and closer to the edge with each delicious thrust.
Your breathing hitched, your fingers clinging to his shoulders as pleasure rippled through you. The edge was near, the sensitivity so intense that you could barely stand it but that didn't stop you from craving more.
Cillian nibbled at your neck, leaving marks on your skin that marked you as his own. He was marking you and he didn't want to stop, his movements wild and needy, echoing your own.
The sheets were a tangled mess around you as Cillian rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you straddled his hips.
Your body moved with his, your swaying matching the rhythm of Cillian's hips as his thrusts continued to send sparks of pleasure coursing through you. Your hair tickled his chest and Cillian's hands rested on your hips, guiding you as you took control of your movements.
You rode him hard and fast, the heat between you building so quickly that it made your head spin.
"I am close," you sighed, your voice a breathless husk of its usual self as Cillian's hands gripped your hips tighter, urging you on.
"Me too," Cillian admitted huskily, his eyes dark with desire as they roamed over your body, lingering on the curves and swells of your breasts.
You leaned forward, resting your hands on Cillian's chest as you rocked your hips faster. His breath caught in his throat as your nipples grazed against his skin.
Each rock of your hips sent waves of pleasure through both your bodies, building towards a crescendo that neither of you could resist.
Cillian reached up, his fingers tracing the line of your collarbone as his other hand drifted up to cup your breast. He squeezed gently, his thumb brushing over your nipple, causing you to gasp and shudder with pleasure.
The room around you spun as you moved faster, feeling the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you.
Suddenly, with a cry, you shattered, pleasure exploding outward from your core, washing over you in wave after wave of ecstasy. You collapsed against Cillian, his arms coming up to hold you close as he continued to thrust upward into you.
"Y/N," Cillian groaned, the pressure in his own body reaching its breaking point as pleasure spilled through him. With a shudder, he followed you over the edge, his own release crashing down over him like a wave.
You lay there, your breathing heavy and ragged as you tried to catch your breath.
Your head rested against Cillian's chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his own breathing as he gently stroked your back. His fingers trailed over your skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
"I needed this," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you raised your head to look at him. "I needed you," you added, your gaze meeting his.
Cillian smiled softly, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek. "I needed you too, Y/N. I always need you," he assured you, his voice gentle yet firm.
It was true. The connection between you was palpable and intense. It had been from the moment you first met, you knew it, and Cillian knew it too.
The following morning, however, everything came crashing down on you as, at around 7 o'clock, there was a knock on the door. 
You glanced over at Cillian, who looked as panicked as you felt. You both scrambled to put your clothes on as hurriedly as possible before rushing out into the living room.
As Cillian opened the door, you were surprised to see Max standing there, his expression full of surprise when he spotted you gathering your things in Cillian's Livingroom. 
"You are joking, right?" Max demanded, looking at his father with a mixture of disgust and disbelief. "I came here to talk about mum and, here you are, with my fucking girlfriend."
The words hung heavy in the air, like a foul stench that refused to dissipate no matter how many times you tried to ignore it.
Cillian's face paled, his expression a mixture of guilt and fear. "Max, listen," he began, but Max cut him off with a raised hand.
"No, don't bother explaining this time. I don't want to hear your bullshit lies again," Max spat, his gaze flicking to you for a brief moment before settling back on Cillian. "Mum is right, neither of you deserve my attention," he declared, his voice shaking slightly as he struggled to hold in his emotions.
"Max, I'm sorry, but..." Cillian tried, but Max shook his head, cutting him off.
"Sorry isn't enough anymore dad," Max said, his voice barely above a whisper before he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Cillian and you standing there in a stunned silence.
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