#cillian murphy one shot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

madeinparadis · 4 months

Text

LONG ENOUGH | DAVIN MCDERBY

pairing: davin mcderby × reader

cw: friends to lovers, smut, brief pining & fear of rejection if you squint. MDNI

word count: 2.8k

masterlist: all characters

a/n: this is an improved version of the fic i posted on ao3, so it's a bit longer than the og, but in both i disregarded the whole deadbeat dad situation davin had going on in the movie (whoops). still, this is definitely lighter and easier going than my previous works, even if it's not my favourite so far.

Davin had already grown used to people– mostly bitter old ones– telling him what he did or didn't feel, how he should or shouldn't act, and so on. He was used to it. So why did it aggravate him so much to hear his roommate force his own, very biased and sour, opinion down his throat?

"I'm telling you, lad, all chicks are the same," his roommate, Pat, for whom he had been gradually growing a silent dislike, interrupted him again. "you'll get over her by the time summer's done! Stop being so sappy!"

Oh, that was it. He was done for.

"How about you shut up, eh? You don't even know her!" the volume of Davin's voice rose unconsciously. "All you do is sit there and complain about your failed attempts at shagging girls you meet at house parties! Have you ever thought, for a second, that maybe I actually have a life?" he completed, feeling the blood rise to his cheeks as the anger made the blood in his face pulse with might.

Pat was left speechless for a good minute. He looked flabbergasted, clearly not having expected such a reaction from the ever-so-nonchalant Davin he always joked around with. A wave of embarrassment quickly hit him at the realisation that he had crossed a big line, but pride was even quicker to take over.

"If I'm such a pitiful bastard, why don't you do us a favour and leave then!" Pat bit back, his tone loaded with the grudge he was holding against his roommate, and it made Davin just as impulsive with his reply.

"I just might, you asshole!" he yelled, quickly slamming the door before storming out of the apartment complex perplexed. Did he go that far for a girl? For you, that is?

He had to see you now. Realisation hit him like a truck. He liked you, but not just like any other– he was falling for you, hard enough to the point where no one could tell him otherwise– because he knew you were worth the hassle, and anyone who had the fortune of seeing you should feel the same as well. Besides, he needed a place to crash now.

You woke up from your accidental nap, suddenly hearing a sound coming from your window, scared that someone might be trying to break into the seemingly empty house. You quickly got up from your desk, your temple slightly red from where your head rested against the wood, only to be met with a very familiar face.

"Davin? What the fuck are you doing here?" you whispered loudly, your brows furrowed in confusion as you opened the window for him to come into the room.

"Sorry, sorry, I know it's late..." he began explaining, holding his hands up in the air. "But I'm kinda homeless right now–" he continued, before being interrupted abruptly by an even more shocked you.

"What do you mean you're homeless, Davin?! What'd you do this time?"

Unbelievable, you thought. Homeless? You knew that Davin had a rather troublesome habit of getting up to no good, but him becoming homeless in the middle of the summer was not a possibility you had fathomed.

Davin sat on the bed, following after you. "I fought with my roommate, Pat. He told me to leave, so I did."

Your expression softened as you listened to his explanation. "What did you guys fight over, anyway?" you questioned him, but his reply was rather dull.

"Oh, just normal stuff, you know..."

You were left puzzled, but decided to let him be. "Alright, I won't pry. Let me get you a towel for you to take a shower– you are not sleeping in my room all sweaty."

The walk downstairs was rather quiet. You went to the laundry room by yourself, hoping to find one of your housemates to check if you could, in fact, let Davin crash. You knew the room was yours, but you still wanted to be sure. Luckily, on your way back upstairs, you bumped into your housemate Linda, who reassured you and told you it was completely fine to let your 'friend' stay over, especially since the other two girls were going to be out and about until tomorrow morning.

You hesitated before opening the door, thinking about your conversation with Davin. You said you wouldn't pry, but shouldn't you? He acted as if he were fine, but you could tell there was a hidden distress in his tone. Nonetheless, it was getting late, and he needed to shower before going to bed; how you two would manage your sleeping area was a problem for later. You turned the doorknob gently, letting yourself in again, and... shit.

Davin had fallen asleep already. Oh well, you'd just change the sheets tomorrow; the true issue was the fact that he slept like a rock, so your space would be... limited, to say the least.

You got into bed yourself, careful not to wake him up, and you noticed something– the cool facade that was once held in his face melted sometime during his sleep, being replaced now by a slightly mellow yet calm expression.

Cute, you thought, letting your eyes fall shut and feeling a dreamless slumber wash over you.

The clock read 4:52 the moment you woke up. Your... bedmate, however, was still fast asleep, his right arm resting on your torso comfortably as he slept peacefully, quiet snores leaving his soft pink lips every once in a while. Who were you to push him away? It's not like you wanted to in the first place.

You couldn't help but admire the scene in front of you. Saying Davin was handsome, in your case, would be an understatement– you were completely smitten with the reckless young man, even though you'd take that statement with you to the grave. Looking won't hurt, though, you thought to yourself. And, oh boy, did you look.

His hair was slightly ruffled from sleep, the moonlight illuminating the orange strands that tickled your neck whenever your chest rose up full of oxygen. His face was relaxed and half illuminated by the twilight, his mouth slightly agape while he breathed in and out, soft snores reverberating in the room.

Your fingers were lightly caressing his hair, and his body rested on yours– everything about this moment was so serene that you wish you could stretch it out for as long as possible. Perhaps in your dreams you would have. Sleep was coming to you again, whisking you away from this sweet moment- you could almost taste the metaphorical honey on your tongue as you drifted off for the second time, just before sunrise.

The morning went by, and the afternoon was nearing. Davin finally arose from his deep slumber and quickly took notice of the predicament you were both in– limbs completely tangled, his face lodged in the crook of your neck, and his right arm draped over your waist protectively. This would be lovely if it weren't one thing... You two were not together, and he was pretty positive that you did not want to change that situation.

As if this kettle of fish couldn't get any worse for him, you started to slowly open your eyes and shift around, tangling your legs even further. "Hey, so could you, y'know..." he muttered, visibly uncomfortable now, not knowing what to do.

"What..?" you were still sleepy, confused at what he was hinting at, until you felt his body on yours. "Oh, shit!" your cheeks turned bright red, and you untangled your legs from Davin's in record time, even though you weren't really bothered by it to begin with. The two of you were both lying on your backs now, the ceiling fan suddenly becoming incredibly interesting.

As awkward as it was, this moment forced a minute of reflection for you both.

During the past few weeks you had spent with your friends here in Montauk, there hasn't been a day where Davin hasn't crossed your mind at least once since you met him in the beginning of your stay. He was unbelievably handsome in your eyes, and you had caught yourself getting lost in his eyes more often than you'd like to admit.

But he was also trouble. It was clear to you after just a few minutes of chatting with him at the bar– that boy was here to live almost everyday like it was the last, and you couldn't keep up with that, no way. Yet you couldn't stay away, and he knew it as much as you. You always ended up finding each other unintentionally, and would then spend the rest of the day or night together. You went around sharing drinks at the bar, walking side by side on the beach, cracking jokes and having long talks in his car as he gave you a ride back home, sometimes sharing a kiss here and there after having a bit too much alcohol. However, you never went below the tip of the iceberg, that was the unspoken rule– keep it at surface level, never deeper than that.

You stopped your racing thoughts, reaching a conclusion– this, whatever it was, was unbearable. Fuck the unspoken agreements and tensions, you had to say something or you'd go mental.

"Do you like me, Davin?" you finally broke the silence with your question.

"What?" he looked at you confused.

"Do you like me?"

Davin froze completely. For someone who quite literally went homeless for a whole night defending his feelings for you, he sure as hell couldn't talk above them like that was the case, cowardice taking over his senses. But no, he couldn't chicken out– not now. He came to your place last night to tell you that he couldn't keep this game of rat and mouse anymore; he had to do something.

So his solution was to roll on top of you and slam his lips on yours impulsively, hoping that the passion in his actions would convey the answer to your question. You gasped before kissing him back, surprised that you make Davin go away with your inquiring. So much for keeping things at surface level.

The hands that were once resting near your head were now wandering lower and lower, getting closer to your hips and upper thighs. Before they went any further, you guided Davin's face gently with your hands, making his eyes meet yours.

"What are we?" It was always you and your questions.

"I dunno, what do you want us to be?"

Smartass, you thought.

"Don't dodge the question," you retorted.

"Well, do you want us to be together? Y'know, dating and all," he looked serious for once, which surprised you for a moment.

"I do," you smiled at him, bringing his face close and kissing him feverishly, allowing him to get back to his ministrations.

Davin's hands roamed around your body as he explored you, quickly discarding your top, something he thought about doing rather often. You laughed a little as he ghosted over your ribs, touching your ticklish spot before you intervened.

"I think you have way too many clothes on, don't you?" you said playfully, which earned a playful laugh from him– it was true, so he let you drag his white t-shirt off his torso and undo his belt for him. Davin took a moment to admire your focus, and the smile you gave him once you were done– a tender nature for the carnal act you two were about to get into.

His touch made you feel feverish, lust taking over your brain and dictating your words and movements. Your hips buckled against his thigh as you chased some form of friction, low whines coming out of your mouth like a plea for action– one which Davin did not ignore, smirking at your antics before sliding your bottoms off in a swift motion, revealing your bare cunt for him to observe. He took a moment to drink in the sight before his eyes until he couldn't suppress his urges any longer.

He lapped at your folds hungrily, savouring your arousal as he felt the tension in his own trousers increase, low moans escaping his throat and vibrating on your sensitive skin. You felt him drink you up like a starving man as he sloppily worked up your most sensitive spots, eliciting whines and pleas from you for more and more of what he was giving you.

With the eager efforts you received, it wasn't hard for you to feel as if you were drowning in pleasure, your high coming closer and closer. Even in a not very logical state, you were aware of your partner's own neediness, grinding his hips into the bed almost unconsciously, seeking someone form of release for his own aching, his subtle moans delivering vibrations to your clit every now and then. Observing his behaviour, you tugged at his hair, making him look at you just like you did earlier– that could easily become a habit for you.

"You can take your time later– just fuck me right now, please." you pleaded, feeling your own longing to be filled by him. The nod you received indicated that you were understood.

Davin was quick to get himself out of his trousers, throwing them somewhere on the floor, his boxers following soon after. His cock was finally out in display for you to see– girthy, flushed and leaking precum already. Noticing your fixed gaze, he looked up at you.

"Like what you see?" He asked, laughing as a way pretend that your admiration wasn't inflating his ego bit by bit.

"Yes." You confessed, no shame in your admission. After all, what was the sense in having shame at this point?

Smoothly, Davin dragged his cock against your folds, gathering up your slick before going inside you. The initial stretch you felt was pure bliss, ecstasy running through your veins with each inch that went deeper in your velvety walls. Your nails maimed his back, drawing crescent shapes on his shoulder blades while your whines and moans hit the bedroom walls and his ears.

"Fuck, you're tight," Davin couldn't help but groan in your ear. His thrusts were fast, aiming at the sensitive spot in your walls, riling you up as he chased his own pleasure.

"I'm so close– baby, please..." you whined incessantly, desperate for your release to come. You heard Davin say something along the lines of 'just a little more', which you barely registered, your mind foggy with pleasure.

You could feel his touches all over your body– his hands slithered along your hips, your waist, and stopped at the swell of your breasts while his lips kissed and suckled on the curve of your neck. You felt the assaults to your core getting sloppier, signaling that Davin was close. But before even saying a word, his hands moved over your breasts, one playing with your right nipple while the other lazily massaged your left boob. His thought-out actions caused whines to fall from your lips, your cunt clenching and dripping as you felt your climax right around the corner.

Suddenly, you felt the hand that was playing with your nipple travel down to your clit. He started drawing circles with his thumb on the bundle of nerves, and that was it for you– your orgasm washed over you like the strongest of waves, rocking you out of your senses, clouding your vision and tensioning all your muscles before relaxing you profoundly. You took a minute to come back to reality, whimpering as you felt Davin continue to thrust into your pussy with desperation, seeking his own orgasm.

It didn't feel like a long time before you heard a grunt coming from him, and he pulled out of you, painting your bare stomach and tits with his cum. He collapsed next to you, remaining silent as he watched you collect his release with your fingers before sucking on them, letting out an audible pop sound when you were done.

"You're amazing..." he muttered, in awe of the little show you had just put on for him.

"Only a little," you giggled, shifting yourself to hug his torso as you decompressed after the events of this morning. You pulled the bedsheets back over your bodies, ceasing the goosebumps that tickled your skin. Davin's heavy breaths were the only noise filling the room– there was a comfortable silence established, only to be broken by him;

"Took us long enough, eh?"

You both giggled at the honesty in his statement. It truly was a long wait, but definitely a worthy one.

#madeinlisbon #cillian murphy #cillian x reader #davin mcderby #davin mcderby x reader #sunburn #sunburn 1999 #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy one shot #sunburn movie #i love cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy movies

122 notes · View notes

letsseewherethisis-going · 6 days

Text

I Got You - Cillian Murphy

Summary: a short Cillian Murphy x fem!reader one shot. Y/N has been having trouble sleeping and Cillian has been getting worried for his girlfriend. Just a soft, cozy, loving kind of vibe. Might be too niche, but oh well... Feedback is appreciated! Enjoy

You finally walked out of the bathroom next to your bedroom and made your way to your bed. Cillian had been reading in bed for a while while you were showering and doing your skincare routine. It had become a habit for the two of you, because even though you kind of introduced him to skincare, his routine was way shorter than yours. Wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt, you joined your boyfriend in bed. His eyes were focused on a new book that he had started reading a couple days prior, his head resting on his pillow. The only light in the room was coming from the lamp on his bedside table, which made his bare torso and his face visible through a warm, golden light

“Hello, you,” you kissed his chest as your right hand sneaked under the comforter to rest on Cillian’s tummy. Your legs intertwined with his and his free right arm welcomed you against his body. Cillian always slept naked, which you loved because a) it made sexy time even easier and b) you loved that he felt so comfortable around you. Your relationship was a very trusting, loving one. Having Cillian in your life made you more grounded, and he seemed to feel the same way about you. You were both focused on each other as well as your own careers. You were both supportive of each other and had faith in each other as well. Cillian wasn’t the type to make any waves or add drama into one’s life, which made everything easier in addition. It’s safe to say that your relationship with Cillian had become your safe space

“Hi, darling,” he said with an obvious Irish accent, which you couldn’t get enough of, even after having dating him for a few months at that point. His eyes finally met yours and you pecked his lips quickly, and you rested your head on his chest. “Can I cuddle with you while you read?” you pouted and kissed his chest again, absentmindedly. You had been having a lot of nightmares lately and it was ruining your nights as well as the quality of your sleep. You would wake up at least once during the night, panicked about the nightmare you just had. You didn’t want to make a big deal about it, but Cillian had been asking you some questions and gave you some advice about setting up a sleep routine so that your nights might be more peaceful. You thought the idea of a sleep routine was kind of silly at first, but you quickly realized that he was making a valid point, so that night was the first time you tried it. The plan was no TV after 9pm, a chamomile tea around that same time and a warm shower before bed. Simple, but promising. That being said, during the evening, just the thought of going to bed made you a bit tense and apprehensive.

“Of course you can, baby. I’m going to read for about an hour, I think,” his deep voice relaxed you, as well as the feeling that skin-to-skin with him gave you. You could smell a mix of his natural scent and the smell of his shampoo. His skin so soft against yours; his warm, strong body next to yours made you feel so safe and at peace. “An hour?! Aren’t you tired?” your hand went up to Cillian’s chest, caressing his chest hair for a moment, while your eyes ended up focusing on his book. “I’m okay. I want you to get some sleep, baby,” he started stroking your hair softly, “I’m right here, my darling. I got you, you can fall asleep,” he continued. You couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach - oh, how you loved that man. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to relax a little more. “Thank you for doing all this for me. It’s so silly I know-“ he didn’t let you finish your sentence “it’s not silly at all, I think it’s pretty serious. I see you getting more tired every day, plus I hate seeing you scared and anxious” his fingers kept stroking your hair so softly, you felt like you were melting in his arms. “I’ll be fine, I don’t want you to worry about me,” your hand moved down to Cillian’s lower tummy, where your fingers continued caressing his skin. You heard him clear his throat and felt his hand in your hair stopping, but he stayed silent. His hand ended up stroking your arm softly, and you stayed focused on Cillian’s breathing as well as the rhythm of his heartbeat, which you could hear very clearly. As you were falling asleep, you felt him drag your hand up to his chest again. Opening your eyes, you looked up at him “was I bothering you, Mr Murphy?” A smile grew on his face and he said in a cheeky tone “you were turning me on, you insatiable little thing,” you rested your head on his chest again and put your hand back where it was, but Cillian stopped you quickly “Y/N, I’m serious about this, you need a good night’s sleep. Be good, now,” you sighed and closed your eyes again, your hand going back to playing with his chest hair. “Good girl. I love you. Goodnight my love, I’ll be here if you need anything,” he kissed the top of your head and you felt sleepy again. His protective arms around you, his smell, his voice… everything made you feel safe

#cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy one shot

42 notes · View notes

equallyshaw · 8 months

Text

reunion's - cillian murphy x actress oc

- these are my literal guilty pleasure, so it only made sense to do one myself.

- takes place right after oppenheimer ends filming and the premiere of it

-has a few time skips

Warnings: none!

Word Count: 3.0K

────────────

tana looked up from her laptop that she had been scouring for the past few hours, reading a short script over and over again. in between a bottle of wine and thai takeout, ofcourse. it was nearing 2 am when she heard her california home front door open, she looked up, her tabby cat still at her feet. she stood up unsure of who it could be, but then heard the distinct Irish accent that she'd come to love over the past 2 years. and that's when she saw him walking towards her. he smiled widely, holding a bouquet of peonies and a box of chocolate. her favorites. "hi my love." he said softly setting the gifts down, and pulled the girl into a big hug. she looked up at him and smiled, before kissing him. they melted into the kiss, familiar yet unfamiliar. he'd been shooting oppenheimer for the past 60-something days while she had been in vancouver shooting the last episodes her character had in riverdale...how she went from peaky blinders to riverdale will amaze her for the rest of time. she'd be back in vancouver shortly for pilot season. "hi baby.." she whispered as they parted before she pecked him one last time. he dipped her, causing her to giggle and he placed one more kiss before moving back to grab her gifts. she took the gifts, marveling at the flowers and gave him a cheeky smile for the chocolates. he smirked, taking ahold of rodgers; her 6 year old tabby. she adopted him around civil war with captain america vs iron man and named him after the great steve rodgers. cillian kissed the tabby, before setting him back down. tana moved over into the kitchen to place the flowers into a vase, and set the chocolate near the expresso machine. she set the flowers above the sink and smiled. cillian came up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her. they'd have tonight before reality set back in.

—

tana and cillian met on the set of peaky blinders in 2021, right after the second wave of the pandemic hit. as fate would have it, they lived down the hall from one another as cillian was going through it with his wife. the two had been having issues for years and the pandemic only amplified them. he confided in her, and in turn she came to adore the man. in ways she knew she shouldn't, so once her character's time came to an end on the show, she skipped back to los angeles before hiking it up to riverdale in vancouver, of march 2022. the two didn't see each other then until november 2022 when cililan came to toronto to do some filming for a video short. the two rekindled where they had left off. cillian's divorce just had been finalized and so he had the freedom to do whatever his heart pleased. but for tana who was 27 in november, the logistics of coming out to the world was not necessarily good. bleak. grim, even. for him and for her, the age gap between the two would be the focal point and not that they cared deeply for one another. tana woke up a little bit before cillian, and she was cuddled into his chest. she moved some stray hair out of his eyes softly. she hummed to herself, and as cillian heard that as he pretended to be asleep he begun to tickle her. she jumped and squealed as he did so, as it was the death of her. she ended up rolling onto the floor, and as soon as she landed with a thud she erupted with laughter. cillian quickly looked over, and relaxed as he heard her contagious laugh. she pushed a foot towards him, as if to keep his distance. he put his hands up in defense playfully and she got up. cillian eyed his shirt that hung over her body. "have i ever told you that you in my clothes..just does it for me?" he questioned cheekily, and she rolled her eyes. "yeah yeah yeah." she said throwing a stray pillow at him before walking out of the room. she walked out and went to go feed her cat, and make some expresso. as she scrolled on her phone and responded to messages, cillian walked in planted a kiss on her head before getting a nespresso for himself. he walked to the fridge, grabbing some creamer for tana and milk for him. "you really need to get some tea, love." he said softly and she stiffled a laugh. he was playing with fire, this morning she thought. jokingly ofcrouse. "I'm american, we don't drink breakfast tea." she said in a posh british accent and he cringed causing her to laugh. "yes ill grab more today...besides i didn't know you'd be stopping by. so that's on you buddy." she smirked sipping her coffee now. "oh is that so?" he asped wrapping his arms around the girl. because of how fleeting their time together was, they made the most of it, and usually could never keep their hands to themselves. innocently and not so innocently.

it was around 2 pm that day as they were watching the office together the steve carrell version, he got a call from his agent. his demeanor changed, and then he stood up walking into the bedroom. she thought nothing of it, and waited for him to return. cillian's heart and mind fought with one another. his heart told him to stay, while his head told him to leave. his agent had tipped him off that the daily mail or the daily fail was about to put out a article, detailing his and tana's relationship..from the very beginning. somebody had told them, and he was trying to figure out who. his agent told him to get his arse back to ireland, so they could do some media damage. but he just didn't want to leave tana to the wolves. he wanted to face everything together. but his agent had said this will look badly on them, more her than him. she'd be seen as somebody with 'daddy issues' (nothing wrong with that tho!) while he'd be seen as a womanizer and that could benefit him. he bit his cheek as he quickly gathered his things. when he didn't come back in, she went go to see if he was still on the phone. as she opened the door, her heart dropped. "you're leaving?" she questioned, and he paused briefly. "ye-yeah my agent needs me to come back for an audition." he said not looking up at her. she nodded, biting her cheek. she felt tears pool her eyes, why was he being secretive? she felt her chest rise, knowing she would be crying momentarily. he picked up on her scattered breathing, and as he looked up she was out of the doorway. he finished packing and walked out to find her. "tana?" he questioned and he found her in the little reading nook in her office. she looked out the window, not wanting to turn. and she knew if she did, she'd start sobbing uncontrollably. "just- just don't. don't say a damn word, because nothing is going to make up for the fact that you're leaving because youre terrified!" she seethed now looking at cillian. his heart dropped, knowing she knew. she shook her head biting her lip, sighing. "my agent told me last night right before you got here." she said setting her feet on the ground in front of her. "you're being a fucking coward, cill. a fucking coward!" she threw at him, before shaking her head. "i thought differently of you...so fucking different." she said wiping her eyes, getting rid of her tears. "you-you fucking promised cill. fucking promised." she seeted, pointing a fingers towards his chest. his eyes followed with tears, so evident in his blue eyes. "get the hell out." she said calmly, before sitting back down on the nook and looking out the window. cillian swallowed, watching for a brief moment, before walking out. shattering the young girl's heart.

—

the two would not see each other until the premiere of oppenheimer in london. tana had come a few days early to stay with florence in her london flat before the hotel stay where they'd get ready. the two had become thick of thieves after working on the critically acclaimed, midsommar. ever since then, they had been best friends. the pair were in their conjoined suites, with their respective hair and makeup teams, and stylists. for the first time in her career, chanel had sent over personalized dresses for her to choose from, and she chose a dashing and daring silver rose gold dress, that plunged a bit at the front. "you nervy?" florence questioned walking in on camilla as she was inspecting her dress. she smoothed down the dress, and she nodded to florence; making eye contact in the mirror. "well you look hot, so he's gonna have to say something." florence smirked and the two went on to take some photos together. they arrived at the premiere, and tana's stomach fluttered with butterflies. they'd be the first people on the carpet, and first for the movie in florences cast. florence was met with a rupture of screams, and tana even earned her own as she stepped onto the carpet. peaky blinders had given the international fanbase she'd bee gunning for, and now it seems there were a few waiting for the premiere. she watched florence do some solo shots, and took one on her phone of florence before their agent pushed them together. the crowd went wild, and the two laughed contagiously, and cillian would know that laugh from anywhere. as he walked up to the carpet, he saw tana looking the most beautiful he'd ever seen her. she look confident, calm and collected and most of all, she seemed genuinely happy. and that was all he wanted for her. the pair took some more photos before florence pushed her away to make tana take some solo shots. she waved to some fans who went wild, and that's when she momentarily made eye contact with cillian. and for some reason, that unleashed one hell of a confidence boost. florence walked towards cillian who gave her a knowing look, he knew she set this whole thing up. "TANA - TANA - TANA!" florence chanted with the crowd, and tana's cheeks turned crimson pink. she shook her head, before walking towards her agent. she laughed loudly at whatever the agent said before the two made their way over to the interviews. "you fucked up cill, royally." florence said pushing him softly, before taking photos with each other. and then the queen emily blunt showed up and florence quickly ran over to hug and take pictures. emily laughed at cill's response, before the two walked over. "did florence tell you that you fucked up royally?" emily said turning towards the camera and speaking through clenched teeth. florence snickered and cillian nodded. "yep, and i know it wont be the end of it tonight." and emily clapped him on the back, "atta boy." she said before matt damon joined in.

tana took in some interviews, "how does it feel to see your ex on the big screen like this?" one of them asked, and she smiled diplomatically. "its amazing! to see how he did in peaky blinders and to now grace the big screen is wonderful! he definitely deserves this moment, and as an audience member i cannot wait to see what it entails." she smiled genuinely, before stepping back. "can i go inside?" she questioned, who told their publicist that they were going inside. "all for florence." the american girl muttered to herself as they walked into the theater.

yet they never made it to the movie, because on the other side of the world in california, they declared the protest between sag aftra and production companies/houses. florence dragged tana to an after party at the soho house. as florence partied on, tana sat at the bar on her phone. she spoke to her parents about the strike and found that they were already on the picket lines, for their daughter who couldn't just yet. she facetimed them, and saw all of it. "you guys are too cute! see yall soon." she beamed, before ending the facetime. she typed away to another friend, and another producer. things were becoming real for them and her stomach turned with anxiety. "mind if i join?" she heard the familiar Irish accent that made her stomach skip. she did not bother to look at him as she finished her cranberry vodka, holding it up for another one. he sat down without a word. he ordered his usual pint of beer, and they sat in silence waiting for their drinks. her phone buzzed with a selfie from her parents, they had taken with an actor friend of hers, maia mitchell. she hearted the image. she thanked the bartender for her drink and then cillian received his. "your parents on the picket lines?" he questioned, already knowing the answer. her parents had always been politically active, and this movement proved no different for them. "ye-yeah. i facetimed them as they were hitting hour number 3." she mused sipping her drink. "i figured." he mused, "that they'd be supporting something that means so much to them." she added to his comment and his eyebrows raised. "list-" she cut him off, "i get that you didn't want your career to be clouded, bu-but did you think for a second what it would do to mine, huh? or at least how you leaving would make me feel ? answer me that much cillian." and there it was. she'd used his full name and not just cill, he had come to love to hear from her.

"no, i didn't. i was in too much of a hurry to consider anything else." he answered honestly, and she felt her heart sink. she already knew his answer, but hearing him confirm it hurt even more. she nodded, "i figured. i so fucking figured." she seethed drinking more of her drink. "if you had, maybe things would of been different. or maybe just maybe, i wouldn't have wasted 7 months of filming falling for you." she quipped, chugging the rest of her drink; slammed it on the counter and texted florence she was taking a taxi back to the hotel. cillian sat at the bar, the rest of the night. tana had made it back to the hotel around 1 am, and as soon as she shut the conjuring suite door, she broke down sobbing. she felt as if her heart was about to break out of her chest, as she heaved. the brunette ripped off her jewelry and dress, before slipping on the white robe the hotel had for each guest. she went to the bathroom, to clean off her makeup. as soon as she saw her reflection, she cried harder. she stood in front of the mirror for a few minutes more, before walking out to go lay down. as she was passing the door, a loud knock was pounded. her eyebrows crinkled, with confusion. she wiped her eyes, and looked through the peephole before opening it to cillian. "what?" she asked, defeatedly. she was done, done with feeling the way she did about cillian. cillian took in the girl's broken composure. his eyes watered watching her crumbling before his eyes. "tana." was all he said before he stepped in, wrapping his arms around her. he shut the door behind them, and slowly made his way over to the bed with her.

he held her too his chest as she sobbed, his heart breaking knowing he caused this. she continued to cry for the next 10 minutes before she looked up at cillian who had already been looking at her for a few minutes. "why didn-didn't you stay? when you knew that would hurt me?" she questioned through broken sobs. his heart broke, and he brought her in for a kiss. she melted into the kiss feeling salty tears hit her cheeks. they pulled apart and she wiped his. he smiled weakly, and her in awe of his vulnerability, once again. she hadn't seen him cry since he put in motion the divorce. "cill.." she whispered wiping more tears as she whispered his name. "wh-why are you here?" she questioned, softly. "to tell you that...it hurt me too. that I'm sti-still hurting." he said weakly, and her heart now broke even more. "cill-" he cut her off, "i haven't stopped thinking about how we left things and in turn, can't turn off the memories that we made together. and i just, i miss you, I'm sorry." he cried. she brought him into her neck trying to comfort him. she allowed him to cry now, feeling vulnerability seep through his suit. his see-through suit. cillian calmed down after a few minutes, "cill.." she said and he looked up at her. "tell me what you know i want to hear, and ill be yours once again." she said softly and he nodded. "i want you, i have always wanted you. what i feel for you is stronger than anything i felt for my ex wife...and i want our lives together, in private and in public." he said confidently. and tana was sold. she smiled widely, before kissing him. they kissed the whole night, catching up and talking. oh, and laughing occasionally. florence came home sometime later and heard the two giggling like fools, and banging on the suite doors. "i swear to god if you fuck, I'm killing you lot!" she yelled and the two laughed, loudly. florence smirked, texting emily the good news.

tana and cillian spent the night forging a plan to go public, and how they wanted to spend time between los angeles and ireland. "ireland." tana hummed, and cillian had a twinkle in his eye. "ireland?" he questioned and she nodded. "take me home." she smiled before he gave her the biggest kiss of the night.

————

@thetana: London you were smashing xx

2.3 million likes, 123k comments

@florencepugh: absolutely adore you lady

@emilyblunt: hope my trash talking helped things move along

@johnkrasinski: had the best office quote off

@rdj: see you on the picket line, lady !

•

hope you all enjoyed! pls like a reblog if you did (:

#cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy one shot #peaky blinders #oppenheimer #cillian murphy x actress #florence pugh #emily blunt

43 notes · View notes

gretelshelby · 2 years

Text

Coming Soon: The Flight

Cillian x Reader

Alright so, since I am now done with my ~flights~ my 30 hour experiences and imaginations can be written into a short fic 😌

#I’m excited #cillian murphy #cillian murphy one shot #cillian murphy x reader

23 notes · View notes

iluvzaddies · 9 months

Text

drunk confession

pairing: thomas shelby x reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, slight nsfw

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the horrors of the war had changed him drastically.

he became a soulless, empty shell.

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

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

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

…until tonight.

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

“because i can.” he said nonchalantly.

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

he shrugged.

“how did you get in my house?”

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

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

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

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

“what?” you blinked.

“you heard me.”

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

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

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

“please, quiet down, will you?”

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

“tommy.” you muttered under your breath.

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

was it true?

was it really true?

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

and that made your face heat up.

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

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

you widened your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“my neighbors–“

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

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

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

it felt good, so so good.

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

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

he loved the way you looked beneath him.

how swollen your lips were.

how breathless you were.

how red your cheeks were.

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

“all for me, eh?”

his deep, sultry voice sent shivers down your spine.

“all for you, tom.”

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

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby smut #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #childhood friends to lovers #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders smut #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders one shot

3K notes · View notes

starkwlkr · 9 months

Note

Hi I just found your blog as well as your Barbenheimer imagine and I absolutely loved it! Can you do more Barbenheimer and Cillian Murphy imagines like that soon. Like maybe it's after Cillian sees the Barbie movie and is talking about the movie to y/n?

she’s everything, he’s just ken | cillian murphy

here’s some more barbenheimer fics for you <33333

liked by ariana_greenblatt, zoesaldana and 2,463,780 others

y/n.l/n she’s everything, he’s just ken (and also the father of my child❤️) hope everyone loves Barbie as much as my husband does!

loservibes imagine calling cillian your husband and the father of your child

lanadelslay y/n wins at life

phoebexgenuis I’m jealous of cillian he gets to call y/n his wife and the mother of his child 😭

View all 56,737 comments

“Can you ask Greta if I can have a kenough shirt?”

It was a nice sunny day out and the Murphy family wanted to take advantage of it by spending it at the beach. Alex Murphy had been asking his mom for a ken shirt ever since he saw his mother’s film.

“I can ask her, sure. What color would you like?” Y/n asked, cuddling into her husband side on the beach chair they were laying on.

“Mum, you have to be joking! Pink. I think it will look great on me.” Alex nodded.

“Definitely. You look great in anything.” Cillian added.

“Can dad get one too?!”

“He’s for sure getting one and I’m taking a thousand pictures of my two boys.” Y/n chuckled.

After a while, Alex decided to build a sand castle while his parents relaxed. Cillian then broke the silence.

“I really did enjoy your film, love. I think I even teared up a bit at the end.” He admitted.

“I love you so much.“ Y/n kissed Cillian’s lips.

“On the topic of films, what about mine?” He teased.

“Okay, before I say anything about Oppenheimer, just know that I love you so so so much and you’re my best friend and the only love of my life apart from Alex of course.”

“Y/n. . . ”

“I haven’t seen Oppenheimer.”

#inbox <3 #anon #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy one shot #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy instagram au #barbenheimer

2K notes · View notes

feninina · 8 months

Text

𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.

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

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

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K

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

𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

It was awkward, to say the least.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were landing right in the palm of his hand.

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

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

You have everything. That was bullshit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bingo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"To be fucked stupid"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And maybe he was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.

“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then you realized it.

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

That was your cure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)

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

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

#cillian x fem!reader #jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #cillian smut #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #jonathan crane fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #jonathan crane x you #cillian one shot #cillian fic #peaky blinder imagine #batman fanfiction #scarecrow x reader

2K notes · View notes

dandelionprints · 7 months

Text

Don't Be Late

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Y/N (lil bit of fluff, angst, tormented Tommy and comfort)

Summary: When Tommy makes a promise to his wife he could never imagine that breaking it could potentially cost Y/N her life.

Warnings: bad language, a couple of slur words as used in the show *not words that I myself deem acceptable!*, a lot of violence, mentions of injuries, blood and death. Reader discretion is advised, do not read if you feel uncomfortable with this kind of content

Word Count: This is a long one coming in at 6,800k

A/N: It's been a while since I've written a full blown fic but I was on a roll so I just went with it! I hope you enjoy, please do like, reblog and/or comment your thoughts on it, I really appreciate the feedback x

--------------------------------------------------------

"It's been three days, Pol. Why won't she wake up?"

He leant forwards in his chair, a hand gently grasping Y/N's as she lay motionless on her hospital bed. Her body was battered with violent purple bruises and cuts covering what seemed to be every inch of her body.

The last three days had been hell, with a mixture of so many emotions running through him that he didn't know where to put and the not knowing. Worry, anger, sadness. Guilt. So much guilt, it consumed him.

Tommy wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to forgive himself for not being there to protect her. It could be said that it was a case of "wrong person, wrong time", but that did nothing to subside the sense of dread that filled his stomach whenever he thought about the brutality his wife had been through, all because of him. How scared she must have been on her own waiting for him to come and save her, but he came too late.

"Give her time, Tom. She's been through a lot, her body’s trying to heal, we can't rush these things. Besides, the doctor said this morning that the swelling and bleeding has started to go down so she is getting better. Slowly. We just have to be patient", Aunt Polly delicately placed her hand on his shoulder, softly stroking her thumb back and forth over the newly clean shirt.

Polly had brought a clean set of clothes to the hospital after seeing that Tommy was too terrifed to leave Y/N at the hospital alone for even a second, leaving him wearing blood soaked clothes for the first day. Y/N's blood.

"I should've been there Pol. None of this would've happened if I hadn't gotten too cocky and dragged John and Arthur down to London to Sabini's club. All this for a fucking business expansion"

He lowered his head and brought his free hand to his forehead, pinching at the sides as if to relieve some of the stress growing with tension there.

"Fuck!", he shouted before quickly covering his face with his hand.

Tommy could feel tears springing to his eyes as he glared down between the gaps in his fingers at the speckled hospital floor. He was so tired of crying in the presence of anyone that wasn't Y/N since the night this whole shit show happened, it made him feel weak knowing other people could see that in fact, yes, Tommy Shelby does have emotions. Y/N was the only one he'd been able to willingly show any kind of vulnerable emotion to since he'd returned from the war.

The sound of a lighter flicking open followed by the quick sizzle of a cigarette being lit came from behind him as Polly took a drag, before holding it within Tommy's line of vision.

"Here, take this".

He hesitated for a moment, making sure that no tears would fall, then slowly lifted his head and reached for the now softly glowing cigarette bringing it to his lips and taking a long pull, exhaling the smoke as if it were the stress partially releasing from his body.

Aunt Pol watched him carefully, almost as if she were waiting to see if he was going to explode like a ticking time bomb or finally let his shoulders relax and sink into the chair. She was thankful when he chose the latter, slowly leaning back against the wooden frame, still holding onto Y/N's hand.

"You should go back to the house, Tom. Get some rest. I'll stay with her until you come back", she spoke softly, her own eyes tired from the constant secret worrying she'd been doing as well as sitting with Tommy next to Y/N's bed the last three days.

"No. I won't leave her, Pol. I can't leave her, it's my fault she ended up like this, I can't risk them coming back or the risk of her...", he stopped his words in their tracks as a lump formed in his throat. The tears that had only just subsided now came back, threatening to spill over, "Of her dying. Alone. Without me here letting her know she's safe, that I'm sorry. So fucking sorry"

Polly's face grew empathetic as she saw the pain etched all over Tommy's, the vacant glassiness of his eyes that had only grown darker over the past few days.

"She's not going to die..."

"She might, Pol!", his anger exploded then, the ticking time bomb she'd been waiting for had finally gone off.

The chair scraped on the floor as he stood, letting go of Y/N's hand, before turning to face his aunt who remained seated, not taking her eyes off him.

"How can you be so sure that she's gonna live, eh? How can you be so sure that she's ever going to open her eyes again?"

There was less accusation in his words than it seemed, more like a plead for some kind of reassurance or promise that the love of his life would be okay, that she'd return to the real world again.

Polly stood, then, calm and collected.

"Because I know Y/N Shelby, and so do you. She's a tough girl, it'll take more than Sabini and the fuckers who did this to take her down. Now, go home and get some sleep. I'll stay here with her, give her a wash and read some of your poetry outloud. The nurses say she can still hear what's going on around her, that she may even end up dreaming of things that are being said so we'll be having no more talk of death. John said he'll take the next shift of watching the door so tell him when you get back to come here. You know he won't let those bastards go anywhere near her if they so much as step foot near the hospital"

Polly’s eyes remained on him like a mother scolding her child until they did what they were told. She knew that he was still reluctatant to leave Y/N's bedside but felt relief when he subtly nodded to her, stubbing out his cigarette and picking up his coat before leaning over Y/N to place a kiss on her head, being careful to avoid the purpling bruise that was forming there.

"I'll be back in two hours, Pol, then you can go home and get some sleep", he said simply, making his way over to the door.

"Not two, six. You need a proper sleep"

He narrowed his eyes at her without saying anything, his lips twitching as if ready to disagree with what his aunt had said.

"I'd say eight but I know you won't be able to stay away for that long. What good are you to her if your eyes can't even focus on what the gun is aiming at? Go. Get some sleep"

Three days earlier

They'd agreed that they would meet at 8pm later that evening, after Tommy finished up with business for the day, where the family car was stored in the garage near the Shelby family home.

"Don't keep me waiting too long", she giggled, stroking his face with the palm of her hand.

"Who says you'll be waiting?", he smiled, taking the hand that was on his cheek and bringing it to his mouth, placing a soft kiss to it.

The Garrison hadn't opened for the day yet but the Peaky Boys were starting to gather at the bar, getting in a pint before the days business was about to begin. John and Arthur were already trying to place a bet with Isaiah about who could down the most pints before blacking out with Arthur claiming it to be him.

"Eh, lads! No more drinking until business is finished for the day, and Arthur, I could place twenty pound on it being anyone but you who could drink the most", Tommy interrupted, leading to a cackle of ladish jeers.

Y/N laughed before getting Tommy's attention once again, this time placing a finger beneath his chin and gently pulling his face towards hers.

"I know you, Tommy Shelby. You like to be on time when it's for business but business is also what makes you late to see me"

He felt a pang of guilt hit his stomach at her words, he knew she was right. He'd lost count of how many times he'd come home to find her curled up in front of the fire in his office fast asleep. How many times he'd either carried her up to bed or simply placed a blanket over her while he continued working into the early hours of the morning.

"I promise, love. I'll be at the garage at 8pm sharp"

This time he leant forward and touched his lips to hers, taking in the sweet flavour of her lips that he loved so much.

"Go on, Pol will be waiting for you"

She paused, "Is it bad to say that I don't believe you?"

"I promise, Y/N"

She wanted to believe the sincerity in his eyes but a tiny part of her knew that she'd more than likely be kept waiting out in the cold while he finished up business for the day.

"Okay", she half smiled, "I love you, Mr. Shelby"

Tommy kissed her then, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen across her face behind her ear.

"I love you too, Mrs. Shelby"

---

It was already dark by the time she'd made her way to their meeting point with only the glow from a firepit in the workshop opposite as the main source of light, rain flooding down onto the pavement outside in typical autumnal British fashion creating the sound of pattering on the old tin roof of the garage.

Y/N sighed as she leant against the black Ford Model T, taking a look at her watch. 8:03pm.

'Well, it's only three minutes late, let's see if he's here before four minutes late', she thought to herself.

There wasn't much to see in the garage other than old petrol can's and some oiled rags that had been dropped lazily on the floor, not that she could see much anyway with only the fire for her source. In fact, it only stretched as far as half the length of the garage, where unbenownsed to her there were men that were lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce on the unsuspecting victim.

"Get 'em!"

The sound of a thick London Italian accent echoed through the cold rickety room and all Y/N could think to do was to cower against the car, waiting to be manhandled in some kind of way, the panic instantly settling into her chest.

It was obvious that the men who now had their fists blowing punches to her face didn't have a clue it was in fact a woman they were beating and not a man, probably due to the fact the fire was doing little to show that she'd wrapped her scarf over her head to stop the rain from ruining her curls. They didn't realise until she mustered enough strength through the continuous punches to let out the loudest scream she could.

It was only then that the men took a step back as the same voice from before bellowed out, "Stop!"

She held her hands up to her face and felt a slick warm liquid quickly covering them, the skin beneath it sore to the touch. Her left eye was blurry from the mixture of what she could only assume to be blood and swelling, but she could just about make out the silhoutte of a slim man with a hat standing near the wall.

The adrenaline was already kicking in helping to keep some of the pain from showing it's full potential, but her fight or flight hadn't seemed to of made an appearance yet. All she could do was stand there, frozen to the spot, her hands still holding her bloodied face.

"You must be Tommy Shelby's missus", spoke the man with the hat, taking a step forward confirming in the dim light that it was who she'd feared it would be. Sabini.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?", he smirked, leering towards her only inches from her face, "Apologies for the misunderstanding, we thought you were Mr. Shelby"

Her heart dropped into her stomach at the thought that this beating was meant for Tommy, that she knew they intended to do more than land a few punches to his face. She spat at the ground infront of Sabini's feet.

"You're lucky it was me and not Tommy, he'd have your eyes the minute you laid your hands on him", she was surprised by how even she managed to keep her voice despite the sheer panic coursing through her.

Y/N knew it was a lie, that Tommy would be far too outnumbered to take on five of Sabini's men on his own especially without being able to see much.

Sabini laughed, throwing his head back slightly before stopping abruptly and grabbing onto each of her arms.

"You listen here you little princess, I don't think you quite understand the extent of how pissed off I am at your fella. You see, him and his brothers came to my club in London two nights ago. The Eden Club. A well run establishment, I'm sure you've heard of it. Anyway, they caused such a fucking scene that I've had to take matters into my own hands. I was planning on getting to Tommy, show him how scared he should really be about barging into one of my clubs, but it seems I may now have an even better way of sending that message".

Even with the light uneven across his features she could see a sly snarl creep onto Sabini's face, his breath fanning against her skin as he spoke. It was enough to make her want to wretch.

"Right boys, forget about Tommy. I want you to do what you were going to do to Tommy to her"

Her heart flew straight into her throat, threatening to jump out of her mouth at any moment. She wanted to throw up but the best thing she could do now would be to gain as much attention to passers by as she could. She screamed again only to have her mouth covered by Sabini as two men took over the hold on her arms.

"Listen here you little bitch, whether you like it or not, you're getting a beating. If Tommy's not man enough to face me himself and resorts to showing up to one of my clubs instead then this is what happens, someones pretty little face gets smashed in"

"You're a fucking creep! Tommy will be here any minute and I'm sure his brothers will be with him too, you won't know what fucking hit you!", she spat, the venom spewing from her mouth.

Sabini wasted no time in landing a hard slap against her already throbbing cheek making her splutter out whatever saliva she had left. He didn't leave it there though as his gripped both hands around her throat, squeezing as tight as he could.

"We'll be glad to see Tommy and his brothers, we can have a nice little catch up. Those boys couldn't organise a piss up in a brewery no matter how hard they tried so I'm not too worried. Carry on boys"

He let go of her throat leading her to gasp for air, her lungs felt like they were on fire with every harsh breath.

She didn't even have time to brace herself from the punch that was swiftly administered to her stomach, knocking out every bit of air she had managed to gain back, bringing her to the ground with a hard thump. Her head bounced off the ground sending a shockwave of pain running over her skull and down her neck.

The punches were now followed by the kicks of steel toe capped boots, each kick more painful than the last until she almost felt numb. Where the fuck is Tommy?

She wanted nothing more than to scream out for him, to hear him running towards the men with bullets flying, ready to put an end to this nightmare, but all she could do was sob as the pain coursed through her.

"Boys, hold her up", Sabini's voice cut through the sound of the thumps and thuds, his voice menacing laced with a sneer.

Two men gripped Y/N's arms and yanked her back onto her feet, knees buckling beneath her with one of her ankles too weak to bare any weight. She was pretty sure she had some broken ribs and that her ankle was much the same way but she knew there was nothing she could do about it now. The only thing she could do was let her head loll forwards with sheer exhaustion.

It was hard to keep her eyes open as her head was pulled up by a harsh grab of her hair, weakness taking over her entire body.

"Look at me. I said look at me!"

Another firm yank of the hair had her gaze just about managing to focus on Sabini, his eyes showing a glint of evil.

"I want you to tell your dirty gypsy husband that I'm coming for him next, if he wants to take over my race tracks then he's gonna have to fight for it"

"You're a fucking pig Sabini", her voice was hoarse as she spoke, her head longing to fall fowards again and let her eyes shut.

"Take my fucking name out of your mouth! 'Ere, Franco, take my name out of this scum's mouth"

She wasn't prepared for what came next as a blade was forced inside her mouth, her cheeks slowly being cut as well as a part of her lip. The taste of the metallic blood filled every tastebud, the only noise she was able to make were muffled groans as the cold metal sliced roughly through her skin.

Her body suddenly dropped to the floor once more, the sound of the mens foot steps starting to fade as they made their way towards the back of the garage and through a hole in the wooden panelling.

"Don't forget to give your husband my message, if you survive that is", Sabini's spoke, a chuckle following him as he finally left her and made his way out the same way as the other men.

She had no energy to even cry any more, a numbness enveloping her body and the blood still slowly seeping out of every cut she'd sustained.

She couldn't focus on anything now, the need for sleep becoming too great to keep her eyes open. She didn't even hear Tommy's footsteps quickly approaching the garage a minute later where she lay in a pool of her own blood. All she could do was let her eyelids drop as she slipped into darkness.

—

"Y/N! Oh fuck, Y/N!"

His cries bellowed through the bleak surroundings, the only movement to be seen was the flicker of the flames from the fire in his peripheral.

“John! Arthur! Where the fuck are you?”, he screamed into the night before turning his attention back to Y/N.

"C'mon Y/N you need to wake up now, c'mon sweetheart", his desperate pleas did nothing as he cradled her head, her blood soaking into his trousers. He could see her chest rising and falling but knew that it was getting slower and slower with every moment that passed by.

It'd only been a minute or so since he'd gotten there but he could've sworn it'd been more like an hour, his heart thumping so hard that he thought it would surely pop out of his chest.

"John! Arthur!"

Tears were streaming down his face, dripping onto Y/N's blood soaked cheeks, leaving streaks running through the red liquid.

He knew his brothers were meant to be on their way with the promise of a bed at Arrow House for the night. He just hoped that they would be sober enough to help deal with the chaos that was going on.

There was so much blood that he didn't know what to do. Sure, he could leave Y/N and go get help himself, but he didn't want to leave her alone for even a second. He'd already let her down once this evening and he'd be damned if he was going to let her die here alone on the cold stone floor, or have the people who did this to her come back and finish off the job.

John and Arthur came stumbling through the open door of the garage, an arm wrapped over each others shoulders as they laughed about how many women they'd managed to pull that night. As soon as they saw the scene in front of them though, the laughing soon stopped and they both straightened up, their eyes almost not wanting to look at the state before them.

"Who the fuck did this, Tommy? Where the fuck are they? I'll fuckin’ get 'em Tom I fuckin’ promise you, those bastards won't get away with this!" John's hands had grown into fists with his knuckles turning white, the anger twisting his face into pure hatred.

"It doesn't matter right now, John. Just go and get help, call a fucking ambulance!", Tommy looked to Arthur whose expression had turned more into terror than anything else, "Arthur, I need you to get Pol, tell her Y/N's hurt, badly. Tell her I need her here, I need... just get her Arthur, now"

It took a second longer than Tommy would've liked but both brothers soon turned and ran out towards the Shelby family home, their legs wobbling beneath them as they went.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so fucking sorry", Tommy sobbed as he gently stroked her face, pulling her in closer to him. His mind was racing with all the questions he was dying to know the answer to.

He knew he should be worrying about who it was that had done this to her but he was pretty sure he knew the answer to that already, and he wasn't about to waste what time he might have left with his wife thinking about that. No. All that mattered right now was that Y/N was going to live, that her eyes would open and she'd look up at him with that brilliant smile he loved so much to tell him that she was okay, that she was going to survive this.

Flashing lights appeared outside whilst Tommy had his head rested on Y/N's, whispering over and over again how sorry he was and how much he loved her. The pain he felt was all consuming and he knew he'd give anything to be in her position right now, just like it should have been.

Even when the medics came to retrive Y/N he couldn't bare to let her go, he insisted on carrying her into the back of the ambulance and holding her all the way to the hospital. They knew better than to argue with the Shelby man but managed to convince him to allow for her vitals to be monitored on the journey there, her pulse rate rapidly declining.

Polly hadn't arrived at the garage quick enough so Arthur had driven both Polly and John to the hospital at speed, swerving all over the road as they went, the tires slipping on the slick ground beneath them.

When they finally got there they saw Tommy disappearing through the double doors with Y/N still in his arms, a trail of blood on the floor behind him. This was going to be a long night.

—

The doctors had managed to get her heart rate back up to a reasonable pace by the time she was settled into a private hospital room. Fluids were being administered consistently alongside different medicines flowing through the tubes, her wounds now dressed with bandages and a thin blanket covering her black and blue body.

"Mr. Shelby, your wife has been through a terrible ordeal, it's a miracle she's still alive", a tall man with slicked blonde hair and glasses spoke, a clipboard and pen in his hands.

"When will she wake up?", Tommy tried to shake off his annoyance at the doctors statement of the obvious, of course this was a fucking terrible ordeal! Anyone with eyes could see that. He just wanted the facts that mattered most.

"Mr. Shelby, as I said, your wife has been through a terrible ordeal..."

Tommy grimaced, "I fucking know she has, don't you think I can see what's right in front of me? That and the fact I found my wife lying in a pool of her own blood half dead? Just tell me, when will she wake up?"

He was growing tired of not having answers to the main question he had and knew he wouldn't be able to relax until he had a definitive answer.

"The honest answer Mr. Shelby is that we don't know. To be blunt we're not sure if she's going to"

Tommy's heart dropped into his stomach.

"As you know, she's been through...", the doctor paused, not wanting to use the term 'terrible ordeal' again, "A lot. We've taken some images of her brain and we can see that she has some bleeding and swelling. We're not sure that she can recover from something like that, we can only hope that she will. Her injuries are severe, Mr. Shelby. As well as the damage to the brain she also has some internal bleeding, broken ribs, a collapsed lung, brusing to the esophagus, cuts to the inside of her mouth and a broken ankle. We're doing everything we can to ensure that she'll recover from this but it will take time. I'm sorry"

A ringing sounded in Tommy's ears, a noise so defeaning that he couldn't focus on anything right now other than the fact Y/N might not make it through this. His chest tightened and he found himself struggling to breathe, the sheer weight of the words he'd just heard sitting heavy on his chest.

"Are you okay, Mr. Shelby?"

"Leave. Now, please. Leave!"

The doctor wasted no time in carrying out Tommy's order as he scurried out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Tommy fell to the floor, his knee's weak and unable to hold him upright. He clutched his chest as he gasped for the air that seemed to have become so thin in the room. Tears that had gathered in his eyes began to fall and there was nothing more he could do than kneel there on the cold floor as his world came crashing down around him.

If he'd of been there at the time they'd agreed then this wouldn't have happened, not to Y/N anyway. It would be him laying in the hospital bed in front of him instead of her, or he'd be laying in a ditch somewhere ready for some poor passerby to find when dawn came.

He knew for a fact that the guilt that was growing in strength would never leave him even if she did make it out of this, that he'd always blame himself for not being on time.

A small knock on the door brought him shakily back up onto his feet again as he gripped onto the frame of the bed. Tommy managed to wipe away his tears just in time for Polly, John and Arthur to walk into the room.

He couldn't look at them, only at Y/N laying in the bed. Her lifeless body was slightly sinking into the mattress beneath her, a mess of hair covered in congealed blood surrounded her head.

"Is she going to be okay, Tom?", John's voice quietly cut through the silence like a knife.

Tommy took a moment before letting out a sigh, the lump in his throat wanting to escape and cause tears to come flooding out.

"I don't know. The doctor said that she's got bleeding and swelling on the brain amongst other things. They don't know if she's going to wake up".

The room stayed silent with no one wanting to say a word, both for fear of upsetting Tommy further and also because what else was there to say? There was nothing any of them could do to make the situation better or to make light of any of this.

Tommy took a seat next to Y/N's bed side and held her fragile hand, longing for her to wrap her fingers around his, but of course she didn't. Even that alone was enough to make his heart break.

"John. I need you to arrange for the blinders to be on a rotation of a look out. I don't want anybody coming in or out this hospital without us knowing about it. Arthur, take Isaiah and a couple of the blinders with you to London, I need you to find Sabini", Tommy spoke plainly, not taking his eyes off of Y/N.

"Yes, Tom", Arthur nodded, motioning for John to follow his lead out of the room.

"Oh, and Arthur? When you find him", Tommy turned to look at him now, his eyes cold but somehow a fire lit in them, "Bring him to me. Alive"

—

Three days later

As expected, Tommy arrived back at the hospital within four hours instead of the six Aunt Polly had ordered.

He couldn't sleep. Every time he'd managed to drift off he was soon awoken by nightmares of Y/N's screams as she was repeatedly kicked and punched, the sound each one of the blows made making his stomach churn. He could see her body laying there in a pool of blood with sobs wracking her chest... her calling out his name and him not being able to reach her even though he could see everything that was happening.

Tommy woke up in a cold sweat, his clothes soaked right through and his hair wet. He decided he was better off admitting defeat than to try going back to sleep, the thought of having to see those images of Y/N whenever he closed his eyes was enough to make his blood run cold.

His childhood home was quiet when he made his way downstairs. Ada had taken Finn to Arrow House under her watchful eye with Karl, it was better to be in a house that was stocked with firearms than back in London with nothing but a single pistol and where Sabini could be lurking in the shadows.

John had gone to the hospital to take the next watch and Arthur was somewhere in London seeking out Sabini and his lackeys, waiting to hand him a blow that would make the Italian man wish he'd never come to Birmingham.

Tommy decided on having a bath before putting on clean clothes, taking a look in the mirror before he left. His complexion had almost drained of colour over the past three days with the exception of the dark circles that appeared under his eyes, much darker than usual.

"God I hope she wakes up soon", he muttered to himself, adorning his peaky cap and reaching for the door handle before stepping out onto the bustling streets of Birmingham, lighting a smoke as he made his way to the hospital.

When he walked through the doors of Y/N's room he noticed something different. Aunt Polly was no longer sitting there with sadness in her eyes, instead she was stood next to the bed holding Y/N's hand, a small smile upon her face.

His eyebrows furrowed with confusion and his pace slowed as he approached her.

"What's happened?" he asked, nervous energy rushing through him.

"She moved, Tom. All on her own, she moved!"

Polly was beaming now, fresh tears sprang to her eyes and she had to resist the urge to hug him.

"What do you mean she moved?"

"I mean, I was reading her one of your poems and holding her hand. Her fingers started to move as if she was trying to tell me she could hear me. She's still in there Tommy"

His heart swelled in his chest although he didn't want to get his hopes up too much, there was nothing worse that breaking your own heart with false hope.

"It might've just been the nerves jumping, Pol. She probably doesnt have control of her body right now", he knew he sounded like dismissive bastard but he couldn't bring himself to believe that Y/N could do that but not open her eyes.

"Stop being so bloody negative Thomas. I'm telling you exactly what I saw with my own two eyes. Read to her yourself, you'll see", Polly scolded him, picking up the pages she'd left on her seat and going to hand them to him.

Tommy said nothing but shook his head towards the pages and instead took a step closer towards Y/N's bed.

Polly placed Y/N's hand in his and softly spoke, "Y/N love, if you can hear what we're saying then squeeze Tommy's hand, let us know that you're still there".

He held his breath as he waited to see if she'd respond, his eyes watching her fingers like a hawk.

"She's not moving, Pol. You're seeing things with the lack of sleep, go home and get to bed, I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere"

"Don't tell me what you think I may be or may not be seeing and certainly don't tell me what to do. You may be a man now Thomas but I'm still able to lay you across my knee and give you a good hiding", her eyes glared daggers into the side of his head as he continued to stare at Y/N's fingers, unmoving on top of his.

"I'm sorry Pol, I just can't... I just can't stand the thought of having the hope there that she'll show me she's okay if she never actually...", he stopped dead in his tracks.

His mouth dropped open and his gaze widened in shock as Y/N's fingers started to slowly lift upwards before coming back down to rest on top of his fingers, trying to curl themselves around his.

"Y/N? It's okay, I'm here. You're safe", he placed his free hand over hers and leant over to kiss her head, the bruises still prominent, "I'm sorry Y/N, I'm so fucking sorry".

Tommy couldn't hold back the tears that were coming and let them spill out to fall down her cheeks, the overwhelming burst of relief he felt within his soul was like nothing he could explain.

Polly stood with a hand over her mouth, a smile beneath her fingers.

"T-T-Tommy?..."

Did she just speak?

His head shot up, eyes wide in disbelief. When he caught the first glimpse of her face he could see that her eyes were slightly open. Her eyeballs had red spots on them where blood vessels had burst, either from the pressure of being strangled or from the numerous hits to the face she'd sustained. He tried to hide the shock that hit him and gently cradled her face with both hands, careful not to press down on the discoloured blotches that lay beneath them.

"You're awake, you're... I-I can't believe it", he stuttered, scanning her face for any kind of expression.

"Y-you... w-w-were... late", she croaked.

It was almost as if he'd taken a stab to the chest as her words met his ears and the guilt came flooding back.

"I know, I'm so, so sorry Y/N, I really am. I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for this, not for as long as I live"

He stifled a sniff as his tears continued, a sob escaping his lips as his face screwed up into pure anguish.

"I-it's... okay", she murmered, taking a deep breath, "do-don't be... s-sorry... I-I'm j-just... glad i-it w-wasn't... you"

"No sweetheart, no. It's not okay, none of this is okay. Because of me, you're lying here in a hospital bed, completely black and blue with internal injuries and broken bones, all because I got too cocky and tried to challenge that fucker. I swear to you, Y/N. I'm gonna put a bullet between his eyes for this, he's not going to get away with it".

He brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face and she smiled softly, the memory of him doing to same back in The Garrison just before she'd left him that day, just before all of this happened…

"H-he said t-t-to... g-give you a... m-message..."

"No, shh shh, it's okay. You don't need to tell me anything right now, you need to rest and get better. You can hardly speak. Tell me anything you need to when you start to feel better. All I care about right now is that I have you, here, alive. No amount of money nor business could come close to how happy I am right at this very moment"

Two Days Later

She'd been awake more frequently over the next couple of days with each day being better than the last. Her bruises had now started to turn a lighter shade of blue with greens and browns dotted through them and the bleeding and swelling on her brain had improved significantly.

The doctors were stunned at how well she was doing, they half expected her to die within the first few days she'd arrived at the hospital.

"How are you feeling today?", Tommy asked as he stroked her hair from his position on the edge of the bed.

"A bit be-tter than yesterday", she softly smiled. She couldn't deny that she still felt like absolute shit and that every time she breathed it felt like she was trying to push air through a straw, but she was just relieved that she'd survived this whole ordeal, "Can you h-help me sit up a b-bit please?"

He instantly stood and gently swooped an arm beneath her legs and the other behind her back, carefully lifting her up before sitting her back down on the bed and repositioning her pillows behind her against the headboard. She winced with the motion but tried her best to hide it. She already knew that Tommy had so much guilt eating him up inside, it almost felt like if she showed him that she was in any kind of pain that it was a reminder of how much he'd fucked up.

"Is that okay?"

She nodded slowly, aware of her aching neck with every slight movement.

"Good, it's nice to see you looking a bit more like yourself", he smiled, his eyes studying every inch of her face.

"Sabini t-told me to tell y-you t-that he's coming for y-you next and that I-if you want to take o-over his race tracks then you're gonna h-have to fight for it... I'm s-scared, Tommy"

Tommy moved his chair closer to the bed, so close that his knees were touching the side of the frame, and took her hand in his.

"I promise you Y/N, you have nothing to be scared about. I know that I broke my promise before about being on time and it cost both of us more than I thought possible, but I swear to you, right here, right now in this moment, I won't let that fucker come near you ever again"

A response to that seemed impossible. Of course she wanted to believe her own husband but when he'd already broken one promise, one that had ultimatley almost led to her death, how could she possibly believe that he'd keep this one?

He could see her thoughts running round her mind, her eyebrows furrowing and mouth twitching like she didn't know what to say.

"Look, I know I fucked up massively. I will never be able to explain to you how sorry I am and I'd understand completely if you didn't want to be with me any more, but please believe that I will do everything in power from here on out to make sure that you're safe"

He was almost scared to hear what she was going to say. Did she want to leave him? Was he destined to lose his wife, not by death this time, but from the sheer fact she didn't think he could keep her safe?

"I-I could n-never leave you, T-Tommy Shelby", she smiled, her lips curving up into her bruised cheeks.

Tommy stood up and brushed his lips against hers, laying a tender kiss upon them before pulling back slightly, enough to still feel her breath on his face.

"Just p-promise me one m-more thing", she spoke, looking into his eyes.

"Anything"

"Don't ever be l-late again"

He grinned, the twinkle in his eyes that she hadn't seen since waking up returning once more.

"I promise"

———

To be added to tag list, click here

Tagged: @peakypoet @moral-terpitude @lyarr24 @cillmequick @mrkdvidal1989 @shelbydelrey @alasya16 @tommystargirl @elenavampire21 @adaydreamaway08 @slaypussypop-21 (unable to tag) @bluesongbird @zablife @cljordan-imperium @look-at-the-soul @rangerelik @helen06dreamer @cyphah (unable to tag) @boobooquicksilver

#tommy shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby x you #cillian murphy #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby fanfiction

3K notes · View notes

floralcyanide · 7 months

Text

𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧 - 𝐂𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐲

Cillian Murphy x AFAB!Reader (NSFW)

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

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

word count: 1523

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then what are you saying?”

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

taglist:

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

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x reader smut #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fic'#cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy drabble #cillian murphy one shot #floralcyanide writes

691 notes · View notes

storiesforallfandoms · 2 years

Text

on your knees ~ thomas shelby;peaky blinders

word count: 2563

request?: yes!

“hi! i was wondering if i could request a tommy x reader? where reader and tommy have obvious and undeniable attraction to each other, but she refuses to be with him/kiss him unless he explicitly gets on his knees and beg her too but since tommy’s pride makes him refuse, she uses flirting with his brother john to help change his mind.”

description: when he tries to make her jealous, she decides to return the favor with the help of his brother

pairing: thomas shelby x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (oral, f receiving)

masterlist (one, two)

His eyes were on me. I could feel them, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how annoyed this was making me. That’d just be letting him win, and I was not about to let Thomas Shelby of all people win.

It was the worst kept secret in all of Birmingham that Tommy and I were in love with one another. To be fair, neither of us exactly kept it a secret from anyone, much less each other.

Early on in our partnership, Tommy brought me into his office and told me he had feelings for me. One would think I would be over the moon to learn that considering I had feelings for him too, but I knew Tommy wasn’t telling me this for our mutual pleasure. He told me because he wanted to arrange for us to be married, or at least for me to be his fuck toy while he explored other options that would be more “favorable” for the business.

Most other women in Birmingham would’ve jumped at the offer, but not me. I was too proud for that. I had some self respect. If Tommy wanted to be with me, he would have to honestly tell me he wanted to be with me. He’d have to get on his knees and beg for me.

But Tommy was also too proud, and thus we were stuck at an impasse.

This impasse included one of us trying to get the other to cave. On this specific night, Tommy was using the new barmaid to try and make me jealous.

And, oh, was it ever working.

Grace was all over Tommy, her face bright from the wide smile as they talked to one of Tommy’s business partners. Tommy, on the other hand, was giving me his full attention. I wasn’t sure if Grace had noticed this yet or not, or if she had I wasn’t sure if she really cared. She was the one on Tommy’s arm, not me.

I leaned against the bar and ordered myself a strong drink. I wasn’t going to get through this night sober.

“Whoa, take it easy, (Y/N). The night is young.”

I looked over at John after downing my drink. He had a playful smile on his face and his tone was light.

I liked John. He was different than his brothers. He had a heart that he actually wore on his sleeve instead of hiding it in fear of being “weak”.

I smiled back at him. “I know, but I want to be smashed before the night ends. So much so that I won’t remember in the morning.”

John gave me a sympathetic look. “Does it have anything to do with Tommy bringing Grace as his date tonight?”

In response, I ordered myself another drink. John chuckled and ordered one for himself.

We spent a long while at the bar, ordering drink after drink and just talking. I didn’t realize how much the alcohol was hitting me until I tried to stand and ended up stumbling into John’s arms.

“Shit,” I slurred. “Sorry.”

“I think you need some water,” John said.

I smiled up at him before looking over my shoulder. I had forgotten all about Tommy until I saw the enraged look on his face. I didn’t understand what he could’ve possibly been upset about, until I felt John’s hands on me, placing me upright again.

An idea popped into my intoxicated brain and I turned to look at John, a smirk on my face. I put a hand on John’s arms and looked up at him through my eyelashes.

“You’re so kind, John,” I told him. “You’ve always been so nice to me. You treat me like a person.”

“Everyone treats you like a person, (Y/N).”

“Not everyone. Some treat me different because I’m a woman. I appreciate you treating me like an equal.”

I leaned against him, using my intoxication to my benefit. If John ever brought this up in the future, I’d tell him I was too drunk to remember. I liked the friendship John and I had built, so I didn’t want to fuck it up by making him think I was really trying to flirt with him. Or to have him think I was just using him to get back at Tommy for trying to make me jealous.

Which, I guess that was what I was doing, but at least I actually cared for John. There was no way Tommy had any feelings for Grace, so him using her was much worse than me using John.

I think.

John put a hand on my waist to steady me again. I could see in his face that he was confused by the way I was coming on to him, but he wasn’t pushing me away just yet. If he was uncomfortable, I’d stop. I wasn’t going to push his boundaries. But so far, it didn’t seem like I had reached the boundaries, so I kept going.

“You’re so sweet and so handsome,” I continued, running my hand through his short hair. “Not all men are so lucky to be the full package like you. Your wife was very lucky to have a man like you.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that,” he said. “You’re not too bad yourself. Obviously you’re a stunner, but you are also a great person, even if you don’t show that side of you too often. Tommy’s a fool for not falling to his knees in front of you and begging you to be his.”

I grinned and took a sip of the water the bartender had brought for me. “I know. You’re much smarter than Tommy in that regard.” I leaned into his ear to whisper, “I’m sure if you were in his shoes, you’d be on your knees for me the moment I asked. Wouldn’t you?”

John tensed and I worried I had gone too far. I pulled away to see he had a blank look on his face, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at something behind me. When I turned around, I saw Tommy making his way through the crowd toward us.

“Shit,” I muttered. I didn’t expect him to make a scene with his own brother over all of this.

“(Y/N),” Tommy said once he reached us. “I have to talk to you.”

I made a gesture with my hand as I took another sip of my water. “Go on then. Talk.”

“In private.”

I looked at John over my shoulder. We shared a knowing look before John turned back to the bar and ordered himself another drink. He winked at me, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips before he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

No hard feelings, I thought to myself. John really is a great guy.

I was brought from my thoughts as Tommy grabbed my arm and started pulling me through the crowd. I tried to tug out of his grasp, but he just tightened his grip on me. I could see tinge of red on his ears and cheeks from anger. I was partially delighted to find out I had gotten this reaction from him, but I was also partially worried about what his reaction was about to be.

He kicked open the door to a nearby bathroom and, after checking that it was completely empty, closed it and locked it behind him. When he turned to face me, I could still see the anger in his eyes.

“What are you playing at here?” he asked.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I responded with an innocent shrug. “I was just trying to have a good time. You’re the one who demanded to speak with me and dragged me away.”

“You were all over John.”

I shrugged again. “Maybe I was. What’s the problem with that? You had Grace all over you.”

“That’s different.”

“How so, Tommy?” I challenged. “You brought a date here tonight, one who clearly is enjoying the attention you’re giving her. Or rather, the attention you’re supposed to be giving her. I came alone. If I want to leave here with whoever my heart desires, that is none of your business.”

“It is my business when it’s my own brother. He is off limits, (Y/N).”

“You don’t get to dictate who I flirt with, Tommy. You’re not my boyfriend or my husband. You’re just my friend, remember?”

Tommy opened his mouth to say something else, but then just sighed and turned away from me. I could see he was frustrated, and I was too. He was getting upset with me for doing the same thing he had been doing with Grace. The same thing he had been doing to me for so long. It wasn’t my fault that he wasn’t willing to put his ego aside to give me what I had been asking for since the beginning.

“How long does this continue to go on?” he asked, finally turning back to look at me. “How long until we finally let all of this go and just be with one another?”

I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow at him. “You know what I want before that happens, Tommy. I’ve made myself very clear from the start what you have to do in order to make me yours.”

He groaned. “God, (Y/N), why can’t you just make this simple - ”

“Because, Tommy, I want some proof that you’re asking me to be yours because you seriously want me that way,” I cut him off. “The first time you ever told me how you felt for me, the way you worded it was all business, Tom. It’s always all business with you. You told me you wanted to ‘make an arrangement’ with me given our feelings for one another. Do you know how degrading that is to hear? That, even though you have romantic feelings for me and you know I feel the same way for you, the only way you view me is as another arrangement for you.”

When he was silent, I continued, “That’s not what I want, Tommy. I don’t want ‘arrangements’, I want to be with you. I want to be your lover, I want to be your only lover. I want to be your wife eventually. But I want that because you want it, not because it’s another business arrangement you’ve come up with.”

The silence hung thick in the air. I was starting to feel a bit too sober and was longing to go back to the bar for another drink before leaving this shitty party and going home. I didn’t want to be in Tommy’s company anymore.

He ran a hand through his hair. “You’re right. What I said to you back then wasn’t right.”

This confession surprised me. Thomas Shelby rarely admitted when he was wrong. Of course, Thomas Shelby never believed he was ever wrong.

"But it wasn’t just about the business,” he admitted. “I wasn’t trying to make arrangements because I thought it would be best for my public image. I was trying to do it because I thought that if I didn’t make some arrangement, you wouldn’t want to stay in my life once you see what it’s really like to be a Peaky wife. Being a member of the Peaky Blinders is one thing, but being the wife of one is a whole other.”

“I think I could handle it.”

“I’m sure you could.”

Then, Tommy took me by surprise again and got down on his knees in front of me. For a moment, I thought he was going to ask me to marry him, until I realized he was giving me exactly what I wanted: him on his knees, begging for me.

“Give me a chance, (Y/N),” he said. “Be my girlfriend, and eventually my wife. I promise, I’ll do whatever you want.”

I couldn’t help but smirk down at Tommy. “I like the look of you on your knees.”

He mirrored my expression. “Yeah? I could get used to this view of you as well.”

He put his hands on my hips and slowly backed me to the wall behind me. Once my back was pressed against it, he reached under my dress and put my leg over his shoulder, hiking my dress up around my thighs. I was already breathless when he lowered his head to my core, pressing his lips against the thin clothing that stood in the way of what he really wanted. I let out a gasp but quickly covered my mouth, remembering there was a room full of people on the other side of the door.

Tommy made quick work of literally ripping my panties off, leaving me completely bare in front of him. I shivered as the cold air touched my naked skin, the cold shiver immediately turning to one of pleasure as I felt Tommy’s tongue against me once again.

I had heard the whisperings from the women in town who had been with Tommy intimately. I had heard many stories about what he was like as a lover. I had fantasized about being with him numerous times, but I never could’ve imagined how gentle he truly was. Each stroke of his tongue was long and gentle, almost agonizingly so. He was taking his time with me, making sure I felt every jolt of pleasure that ran through my body when his tongue connected to my clit.

My hands grabbed at his hair, tugging on it in pleasure as my head rested against the wall behind me. I bit my lip to keep from moaning too loudly, but even then it was hard to keep myself quiet. I had never felt so good before, and this was just from Tommy’s tongue. I couldn’t imagine what he could do with his...other appendages.

“S-Shit,” I breathed. “T-Tommy, I’m c-close already.”

He hummed in response, sending another jolt running through me. My eyes rolled back into my head as I felt my orgasm hit me quick and hard. I put a hand over my mouth to muffle the loud moans that I couldn’t control. My body was trembling as Tommy continued to lap up my juices, riding me through my orgasm. I could barley stand right when he finally put my leg back on the ground and stood up himself.

His chin was glistening from me and it was enough to turn me on again.

He grabbed a nearby towel and wiped his mouth and chin before walking over to me. I looked up into those captivating blue eyes before I felt his lips on mine. I leaned into him, still trying to find my balance, as he wrapped his arms around me and held on to me.

“Take me back to your place,” I whispered against his lips. “We should finish what we started here.”

His grinned at me and took my hand. Tommy pulled me along through the crowded room once again. He ignored anyone who tried to speak to him, waving a dismissive hand every so often. As we got closer to the door, I happened to notice a familiar blonde looking at us in horror and hurt.

I shot Grace a triumphant smirk before the door to the party closed behind us.

6K notes · View notes

pherelesytsia · 1 year

Text

Who did this to you? - 8

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader

Summary: Bruised and broken, Y/N, trapped in a loveless marriage, arrives at her best friend's house, desperately hoping someone will help her, aware she cannot return to the estate of her husband.

Warning: fear, anxiety, Angst, swearing

Word Count: 2.3k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part6 Part 7 Part 9

The clouds wandered on, a lonely wanderer travelling across oceans and meadows, hills and rugged mountains painted in snow. White greyed, darkened and blackened, turned into pure doom, darker than black. The wind howled, screamed and screeched and the branches, crooked fingers, waltzed in all directions.

Silence blanketed the car driving down the path bordered by fields and trees, but it was not unpleasant, cruel, forcing nonsense to fall to shatter it. Shocked, Y/N noticed with widened eyes they had arrived at the open gates of the estate she called her home. At a rapid pace, the car drove on and on, past other parked cars and parked between them in different shades of the deep ocean. The motor wasn't roaring, turned off and the chanting of the birds sitting in one line on the lowest branch invaded the car smelling of alcohol, petrol and leather. The wind knocked on the automobile. Polly gulped, turned and rested her hand graced by a golden ring cautiously, almost shyly, on Y/N´s lap, but the shivering and shaking woman painted in blue and red, lightened by streaks of purple, did not flinch nor speak her mind. Carefully Polly´s fingers slid across Y/N´s calf and pulled the thick fabric higher to hide the exposed skin. Polly pronounced her name and pulled Y/N out of the dark and dreary thoughts, summoning goosebumps all over her flesh.

"Thomas is fine. He knows what he's doing. Nothing will happen to him." Polly assured calmly, guessing the reason for the fear in the widened eyes and sweaty palms.

Faintly Y/N smiled.

"I know, but I'm worried about him. About Poppy. There was blood, too much blood. I thought it was the new wallpaper she had told me about. They, she and her mother, redecorated the house. The pattern, it looked like flowers, large and smaller dots." she replied.

Exhaling, Y/N closed her eyes veiled by tears once fixed on the distance, watching the sun, the rays breaking through the travelling clouds heralding a day full of terror.

"I'm sure your friend is fine, too. Thomas will take care of her." the woman continued with a gentle, encouraging smile on her features, kissed by the orange rays.

Polly cleared her throat. The smile fainted, and the wrinkles deepened. She didn't need to search for the right words, had already pictured during the ride what she would say to Y/N if their paths should cross, but all Polly wanted to say had dissolved, had lost its meaning.

"We're home Y/N/N. Ada is waiting, but before we go inside, I want you to know that we are sorry. We have not been good to you, to put it nicely. Please forgive us and I speak on behalf of the whole family. John was the one who opened the door for your friend. After we realised what had happened, we were looking for you. I hope you will give us a second chance even if we don't deserve one. We will understand if you want to leave. We won't hate you for your decision." Polly continued and squeezed Y/N´s hand.

Y/N turned, ignoring the nearly unignorable pain trying to elicit a hiss from her, and turned to face Polly. She wanted to start a sentence; lips parted, but no tone escaped the sore throat. Y/N stared past Polly towards the door, flying back and forth in the fresh morning breeze. Ada ran towards the car as if chased by a ghost, had left the door wide open, ran on tiptoes and hissed and cursed like a witch as the stones dug deep into the soles of her reddening feet. The hem of the dress danced in the breeze. Gasping for air, Ada spread the large checked blanket, usually resting on the floor next to the sofa. The wind painted her cheeks vibrant red, lighter than her evening gown.

"Come, Y/N/N, we will protect you." Polly assured in a calm, slightly quivering voice, but Y/N heard no falseness, no lie in it.

Y/N could not utter a reply. The air, hinting of winter, invaded the car. The women shivered and balled the hands into fists. Ada hushed a greeting, spread the blanket, glanced at the wounds gracing Y/N´s body, down on the battered feet and the shivering limbs. The pain in her chest deepened at the sight of the shadow of a woman, read in her eyes what she had been through. The lip was chapped. The traces of a fight were evident on her cheek and throat. Ada tossed the blanket over her shoulder, noticing Y/N was covered in one. Wordlessly Ada helped Y/N out of the car. Soft curses blurred with whimpers. Whispering soothing words, Ada pulled Y/N away, closer to the house, kicking the door of the automobile shut and gesturing for Polly to pursue.

"I've prepared a bath for you. I'll help you upstairs. If you don't want to bathe, I can put a bucket of water next to the sofa. You can at least warm your feet." Ada said.

With every step, every slight movement Y/N made, the once brilliant white material slipped and revealed more wounds, swellings, and darkening spots not fading in the golden tide of the sun's rays, but grew even darker. Blue turned to green, lit by purple flashes and red veins carrying blue blood. Patiently Ada waited, and stared back at Polly, walking hastily after the women.

"Thank you. I think the bucket will do. Maybe I'll get in the tub later." Y/N replied meekly, as if speaking to her mother, fearing the answer would enrage her, but none of what she expected happened.

The chilly breeze blew through Y/N´s hair one last time. The door slammed shut, and the keys jingled, chanted a song that faded quickly. All doors were closed and locked. Curtains touched. The first aid box, not battered, holey neither with a worn handle nor dented corners, rested open on the table. Scissors, and spotless bandages lay next to bottles of high-proof alcohol, freshly washed not dried glasses, cigarettes and silver needles drowning in alcohol. Blankets covered the sofa, to which Ada led Y/N and a down pillow. The white porcelain bowl graced by blue vines and flowers was in the middle of the crowded table. Smoke rose from the cup, sweet lavender, and banished the unmistakable stench of blood and gore.

"May I offer you some soup?" the question was unnecessary, asked out of politeness.

Y/N turned into a tree, rooted deep into the ground, not moving. Her arms swayed forward. Questioningly, the two Shelby's exchanged glances, searching for the reason for the fear in Y/N´s eyes, unable to find it, but then, after a moment that seemed not to pass, Ada took a step forward, let go of Y/N, took the polished pistol and hid it under the table, still handy but out of Y/N´s sight. Polly placed her hands down on Y/N's shoulders, trying not to cause her any more pain, let the blanket slide to the floor and carefully pressed the young woman down on the sofa. Ada wriggled back towards them, took the blanket still hanging over her shoulder and laid it down on Y/N's legs, covering them, reached for the pair of fluffy socks, wiped away the dirt, small stones, dust and dried mud, and put the socks on Y/N´s feet.

"It's okay." Ada breathed before Y/N could protest.

Smiling, Ada looked up, wiped her hands on her long dress, picked up the bowl filled with soup and placed it carefully in Y/N's lap, handing her the silver spoon.

"Here, Y/N/N, eat. I'll fill you a bucket with warm water in the meantime. Polly will keep you company. If you need anything, if you feel sick, all you have to do is tell us and we will help you. You are still in shock." Ada said in a calm voice.

Gulping, Ada crouched next to Y/N.

"We should have taken you into our family. I am sorry, we are all very sorry. It's understandable that you don't want to see us, you have enough reasons to hate us. The only thing I can do is to promise that we will do better. If you need time, I have a friend. She owns a small cottage a few miles away from town. There is a pond and a small forest. It's lovely. I could arrange that you could spend a few days or weeks there." Ada continued.

Y/N merely nodded, unsure of what to say, not knowing how to respond, and kept on smiling. The two women watched Ada as she rose from the ground like a phoenix from the ashes and strode away. Polly leaned closer to Y/N, tidied the blanket and hinted that she should eat, that it would do her good. A soft thanks escaped Y/N, smiled at the women who wordlessly indicated that she should finally start eating and so Y/N did, dipping the silver cutlery into the depths of the bowl whose end she could not see, watching the thinly chopped vegetables slip from the spoon and as the warm liquid flowed down her throat, Y/N realised how hungry she was and ate greedily.

Time had lost its meaning. Y/N had emptied the contents of the bowl. The last piece of sliced carrots had disappeared, yet she did not place it on the table, continued to warm her fingers on the ceramic bowl.

Heels clicked against the dark wood, had put shoes a hue darker than the evening dress. Cautiously, Ada continued walking with her eyes fixed on the troubled waters, fearing the warm liquid was about to spill over the golden rim. A towel, white with a few washed-out stains, hung over her right shoulder, the towel she always used when a brother standing on the edge of the world was carried inside the house. The floorboards groaned, and Ada stopped and noticed Y/N had finished the soup she had cooked for her.

Out of the corner of her eye Polly noticed how Y/N´s eyes were growing heavy and she leaned forward, took the bowl and placed it on the table. The young woman wanted to protest as Polly told her to rest, to say that she had to stay awake, that she wanted to wait for the return of the brothers and her husband.

"No, Y/N, lay down. You can stay with us or you can go to the bedroom. We will keep watch and if you need anything, you can call us.", "Polly, we should take care of Y/N's wounds first." Ada interjected.

"That won't be necessary. That can wait. Alfie has taken care of her wounds it's just dirt and scratches. The wounds are not life threatening. Y/N rest, close your eyes. I promise I will wake you up if Thomas is home." she replied.

Carefully Polly pushed Y/N backwards. Her heavy, throbbing head sunk into the pillow. Closing her eyes, Y/N sighed in relief, exhaled as the blanket fell down on her body. Birds chirped, the howling ceased and lulled her to sleep.

Polly leaned forward happily and noticed Y/N had fallen asleep.

"Thomas told me that Alfie has taken care of Y/N. No deep wounds or else I would have taken her to the hospital. We can take care of it later." Polly reported.

Ada rose, set the bowl aside on the table, sighed deeply, nodded, listened to the woman and turned to the fireplace, the blazing flames feasting on the wood and fed by the howling air hinting of winter.

"She was beaten up. I didn't see any bullet wounds. Did Thomas tell you what happened or who is to blame?", "He has a guess, but he couldn't tell me anything specific. It all happened too fast. The gang has Y/N's girlfriend in their grip. At least that's what he thinks. The house was trashed, destroyed, and I think I saw bloodstains on the floor." she breathed softly.

Her eyes kept sliding to the slumbering figure, kept glancing at her right side and noticing with relief that Y/N was still asleep, her eyelids neither twitching nor her lips twisting into a pained grimace.

"Alfie's going to show up any minute. Thomas called him. He fears someone might pay us a visit." Polly whispered in Ada's direction.

Ada perked up, grinned, felt the weight of her weapon at her side, settled down in front of the blazing flames, gnawing on wood and fed by air on the armchair, threw the pillow to the floor on her side and crossed her arms in front of her body.

“We don’t need someone to protect us.” Ada stopped.

A soft knock silenced Ada. The women exchanged glances. The rustling, and shuffling of shoes and feet, softly uttered words, the closing of the door and the jingling of keys followed by low grumbles couldn’t awake Y/N from her deep slumber, lying on the sofa, a princess in the shadow of the vigilant dragons.

TagList:

witchymoonbabe secretdreamlandmentality mysticalpandora kittiowolf210 muhahaha303 dreamy-caramel elinalfrida violet-19999 niyah834 watersquirtpewpewboomm piceous21 elliaze heidimoreton literishdegree99 globetrotter28 thecrazytealady regulusblacksimpsblog torresbarnes nightgirl250 sweet-angely05 allthenamestakenwtd

hellomyweirdos mysticalbouquetwolf-posts batmanbiersack02-blog fulla02 regulusblacksimpsblog smile-sugar calsjack starry-night-reid chlorrox regulusblacksimpsblog 100percentlazybonez kenny-0909 diabolusdevia stuckinmylittlebubble hobothejuggalo camomiletangeringe v7nt7

kiara-rose-blackthorn rangerelik abaker74 madsothree kittiowolf210 lucyandersons-world marigold-morelli meyocoko angelicwolfyqueen iwanttohitmyself pennywisesstuff batgurl42 sleepymadmess lolcaca yolobloggers lor-16 randomgirlwriting rs-fanfiction-2001 bohemian-lavender-girl woofgocows evilangel1324 mrkdvidal1989 nervousmumbling camomiletangeringe tommystargirl toxicenough deadunicorn159 nnercreationflower liar-or-lawyer optimisticsandwichgladiator comfortzonequeen nctma15 banksmars twistxdx inloveppp answer-the-sirens justanotherficreader nunya7394 lovemissyhoneybee lostgirl219 yourbloodyqueen

1K notes · View notes

cillianmesoftlyyy · 1 month

Text

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

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

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

word count: 3386k

Nothing Matters- The Last Dinner Party 🎶

Personal Jesus- Depeche Mode 🎵

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

Please read warnings before continuing, thanks!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I was just about to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve just had a long day.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hello? The operator answered after a few seconds.

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

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

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

“Fuck, just my fucking luck.”

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

“Fuck you,” Tom added disheartedly.

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not the reason.”

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

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

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

“What?” She gasped softly.

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

“It’s been going on for months.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How about right now?”

#cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #smut #fanfiction #the party #the party 2017 #dark!cillian #cillian fanfic #cillian x y/n #y/n #fem!reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #jackson rippner #one shot

242 notes · View notes