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lau219 · 13 hours ago

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Anything You Need

Part 16

Previous part here

**Prior to reading this update, please read this post.**

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JUST HIS ASSISTANT? IS CILLIAN MURPHY’S EMPLOYEE STRICTLY THAT, OR SOMETHING MORE?

A NEW LOVE. WHO IS CILLIAN’S MYSTERY LADY?

CILLIAN MURPHY’S BIG NIGHT: THE GUEST OF HONOR AND HIS NEW LEADING LADY

CILLIAN MURPHY AND HIS ASSISTANT MIX BUSINESS WITH PLEASURE

They had just kept coming, headline after headline, pouring in to Y/N’s inbox, each one and its accompanying article even more dramatic or over-embellished than the last.

By the time she’d gotten back to Cillian’s house late that afternoon, her phone had been dinging repeatedly with so many new emails that she’d temporarily silenced her notifications. But after dropping off the stuff Cillian had to leave behind with her at the hotel, Y/N then locked everything up at his house and headed back to her apartment, and it was once she got there and had settled down onto the sofa that she finally began actually reading some of the articles of speculation about herself and Cillian.

Each one was adorned with several photos of the two of them from various moments throughout the event the night prior, and there was no denying the intimacy between them that the photos had captured. Looking at them all and recalling so many of the moments, Y/N felt a contrasting combination of pleased and embarrassed.

No, it wasn’t the kind of attention or gossip that they’d ever wanted to attract, and no, the “low profile” setting they’d been promised definitely hadn’t been an accurate expectation, but Y/N couldn’t help but feel the warm thrill and happiness at the visual reminders of how close and intimate she and Cillian had gotten. They did look like a couple, and it had certainly felt that way between them. In fact, there were one or two times last night where Y/N had felt the sense that Cillian had been on the verge of kissing her, and that “any moment now” feeling had been crackling between them throughout the entire evening.

But then, upon returning to the hotel and revealing the surprise party for Cillian, it had intensified, and it had felt like the only thing keeping the two of them from finally acting on it was the room full of other people.

But then, Kat had informed her of the photos of she and Cillian that had already been put out into the world, and admittedly, Y/N had panicked. Part of it was just the shock of how quickly their photos and the news of them attending together had spread, but the other part was the worry over the possible awkwardness that all of that would cause. How were they supposed to address it with each other?

The speculation was, of course, that they were together romantically, and Y/N was incredibly anxious about the conversation that she and Cillian would have to have to decide how they were going to address the speculation and the influx of questions and insinuation that would follow.

The alcohol last night had helped her quickly forget about all of that, though, and the last thing Y/N could remember was Kat telling her to sit down and drink some water, and then Darcy approaching her at the bar when she’d gone to help herself to even more to drink. After that, everything was a forgotten blur, and the next thing she knew, she’d been waking up in the giant bed of Cillian’s suite.

Y/N groaned to herself and dropped her phone, covering her face with her hands in repeat mortification as she thought once more about how ridiculous and unprofessional her behavior had been, and also in concern of the countless ways she’d undoubtedly embarrassed herself in front of Cillian and the other remaining party guests by things she’d said or done, but that she couldn’t even remember.

And what now? Clearly, and to her relief, Cillian had been totally cool about the whole thing, assuring her that she shouldn’t feel bad and that he wasn’t upset at all. But that didn’t eliminate the issue of how they were going to move forward.

How were they supposed to address all the media talk now? How were they supposed to behave around each other? What was she supposed to tell people? She herself had already gotten numerous requests for interviews in her email inbox, magazines and TV shows having reached out to her not to discuss Cillian, per se, but to discuss her in regards to Cillian. They wanted to know if their relationship was, in fact, a romantic one, if she was also still his assistant, if this all was just a publicity stunt, and a million other questions. Several publications had even somehow managed to discover Y/N’s brief modeling career prior to becoming a PA, and many of them were asking her to elaborate on that as well, wanting as much info about her as possible. She hadn’t responded to any of the inquiries, of course, but she worried that she may have to in order to make some kind of statement about whatever she and Cillian agreed would be appropriate to say.

With that thought in mind, Y/N was suddenly very relieved that Cillian had left for Liverpool already and that they’d be apart for a little while. That way, at least she wouldn’t have to face him and be around him as she tried to recover from the intense embarrassment all of this was causing, and that she’d at least have a little time to figure out how she should broach all this media attention with him.

But after she’d taken a shower and settled back on the couch with some take-out, her anxiety about the entire situation was soon lessening when her phone dinged with a new email notification. Grabbing it and opening her inbox, she saw that Cillian’s publicist had sent both she and Cillian an email regarding the whole thing.

Hey guys,

So, obviously, press is having a mini field day with all this right now, and while I’ve managed to squash some of it, they’re still gonna do what they do, which is talk all this to death. We’ve already spoken with the staff of the event from last night and expressed our extreme frustration with the less than accurate promise they made about limited media access, and I’ve also managed to get several pending articles pulled, but of course, what’s already done is done.

Y/N, I know you’ve already gotten multiple requests for both yourself and Cillian to give statements or interviews about this, and I know you’ve ignored them for the time being. However, what I want to do is just continue to have you ignore them. Don’t reply to anything.

With you two not having a chance to be seen together over the next week, and then with you guys being away in England for several weeks, I really think a lot of this is gonna blow over. They won’t have any new photos or info to feed off of, and then there will definitely be a very limited amount of invasion while you two are in Liverpool. You may be seen by a handful of paparrazi here and there, but as you know, it’s definitely not gonna be like what it is here. So again, I think the best thing to do is just to ignore all of this and carry on like usual. Feel free to let me know your thoughts, but I think this is gonna be the quickest way to get everyone to leave you guys alone and have this just blow over.

- Miles

After reading Miles’s email, Y/N felt a sense of relief. Just avoiding it all together sounded great to her, and knowing that meant that she and Cillian could just skip talking much about it, too, was a huge relief. She also had the feeling that Cillian would be more than on board with this plan, seeing as he was always all for anything that meant avoiding press and media that caused unwanted attention and an invasion of privacy. He was always more than happy with avoiding it in the first place.

Quickly, Y/N replied to Miles’s email, being certain that Cillian was included in her reply. She wanted him to see her response so that he’d know she wouldn’t be engaging in any media requests.

Hi Miles,

Yeah, I have received several requests, but I’ve just ignored them, and plan to keep doing so. Let us know if there’s anything else we should be aware of. Thanks for your help with navigating this!

- Y/N

As soon as she’d hit the “send” button, Y/N was then hearing the ding of another incoming message, and it looked like Cillian had replied to Miles almost immediately after she had.

Sounds like a plan. Tell ‘em to shove it.

- Cill

Y/N smiled to herself as she read Cillian’s email. Of course that’s all he had to say. Straight and to the point, especially with anything involving the media. She breathed a sigh of relief when she thought about how, once she got to Liverpool next week, they could just continue on as if none of this had happened.

But then she was quickly worrying that that might mean that her and Cillian’s dynamic would change. What if, because of her response to Miles and the decision to ignore everything, their previous dynamic would be no more?

She was still pondering over this when, about an hour later, she got a text message from Cillian, and her heart was pounding as she opened and read it.

CM: FYI that Scout’s mad at you for not coming until next week. We just got to the house, and as soon as he realized you weren’t already here, he looked personally offended.

Upon reading it, Y/N was smiling to herself and then quickly replying, her previous nerves about their dynamic already evaporating.

Y/N: Did you tell him that you told me not to come until next week?

CM: No. I don’t want him mad at ME, too.

Y/N: Glad to know that you have no problem making ME the bad guy.

CM: What was I supposed to do? I can’t have him mad at me for an entire week when I’m here alone with him. I already don’t have YOU around. If HE abandons me, too, then I’ll be all by my lonesome.

Y/N: I didn’t abandon you! You told me not to come until next week!

CM: Horrible idea.

Y/N: You’ll survive. But as soon as I get there, I’m telling Scout the truth.

CM: Fine, be that way.

Y/N: Are you going to be this moody when I get there? 😉

CM: I’m not moody. I reached out to you for comfort, and instead, I’m being scolded. Meanie.

Y/N: I’m sorry, I didn’t know my absence would be so traumatic for the two of you.

CM: Well, it is. So next time I tell you not to come somewhere, don’t listen to me.

Y/N: How about if I just stop listening to you all together?

CM: You = mean

Y/N: Isn’t it, like, 3 a.m. there? I think you’re cranky because you’re tired.

CM: So now I’m moody AND cranky?

Y/N: 🤭🤭🤭

CM: Did you get everything at the house closed up ok?

Y/N: Yeah. You left your Blundstones in the back hallway, though, so I grabbed them. You want me to bring them with me?

CM: Fuck, I knew I forgot something. Yes, please.

Y/N: 👍

CM: Thanks, Meanie.

Y/N: You’re welcome, Cranky. Now get some sleep.

CM: Yes, ma’am. I’ll email you the first couple weeks’ itinerary once they give it to me tomorrow.

Y/N: Sounds good.

CM: Good night, Meanie.

Y/N: Good night, Cranky.

Setting her phone down then, Y/N found it incredibly difficult to let the conversation end there. She was always braver with him when they texted or talked on the phone as opposed to being face to face, and she bit her lip in giddiness as she picked her phone back up and read through her and Cillian’s conversation again. As she then set her phone down once more, she looked across the room to her suitcases that she’d brought up from her storage unit but hadn’t yet packed. As she stared at them, she suddenly missed Cillian even more than she already had in just the approximately twenty hours they’d been apart. Suddenly, she couldn’t wait for the next six days to pass.

Across the Atlantic, in a house on the edge of Liverpool, Cillian was thinking the exact same thing.

•.•.•.•.•

The moment had finally come, and after all the nervousness and anticipation regarding this entire situation, Y/N paused and took a deep breath as she got off the plane, and as she looked around the gate and the terminal out ahead of her, part of her still couldn’t believe she was here.

The last six days had passed what seemed, at times, super fast, and others, very slow.

She’d been communicating a lot with some of the Peaky crew, as well as the representatives for the people scheduled with Cillian for the side commitments Y/N had booked for him while in England. They had to coordinate timing and make sure multiple people’s schedules aligned, and without throwing off the movie’s shooting schedule too much on those particular days. She’d also arranged a short round trip flight and overnight stay for herself and Cillian in London the next week, as he had an interview in the city one afternoon.

All throughout the week before she’d arrived, Y/N and Cillian had either texted or talked on the phone every day. A few times, it had been to discuss things regarding his schedule and/or the movie and what was going on with all that, but the other times, it had just been to talk, a conversation that started out via text becoming a phone call after a few messages, or just an immediate phone call. The last time they’d spoken voice to voice, it was when Cillian had called her a day and a half before she was supposed to arrive, and Y/N had paused her work on getting the last of her things packed to take a seat on the edge of her bed and talk to him.

“What kind of cereal do you want?” he’d said as soon as she’d picked up, not even bothering to start with a greeting.

“Huh?” Y/N had replied, a confused yet amused smile on her face, as that was not what she’d been expecting to hear him say when she answered the call.

“What kind of cereal do you want?” Cillian repeated. “I’m at the supermarket right now, and I’m picking up some stuff for when you get here.”

Upon hearing that, Y/N’s heart immediately skipped a beat. It sounded so sweet and also oddly domestic coming from him, Y/N taken aback slightly that he was considering her so much as to ask her about her cereal preference. She also giggled at the thought of him standing in the middle of an aisle in a supermarket.

“Are you seriously standing in the middle of the supermarket right now?” Y/N voiced her thoughts. “Has anyone noticed you?”

“No, fortunately, because I’m a quick shopper. So hurry up and tell me what kind of cereal you want, or I’m getting you the downright awful Grape Nuts-type one with the picture of the old lady on the box.”

“No! Not those!” Y/N replied with a laugh. “Just grab me some Frosted Flakes or something. Nothing that advertises enormous amounts of fiber.”

She could hear Cillian chuckle on the other end of the line.

“Got it. What else?”

“You don’t have to buy me stuff,” Y/N replied with a shake of her head, although Cillian couldn’t see her. “I can buy some stuff for myself when I get there.”

“I think you already know what my response to that will be, so either gimme a few more things you like to have around, or I’ll buy you everything marketed towards old ladies, and nothing else.”

Smiling then with another laugh, Y/N went ahead and listed off a handful of other snacks and beverages she liked, most of which Cillian was already aware of, but wanted to know for sure what she’d like to have available to her at the house.

“Don’t get too much stuff,” Y/N said after a bit more conversation. “I wanna pop into the store myself once I’m there and decide on a few other things to get. I was planning on making use of the kitchen while we’re there, if that’s ok with you.”

“Only if you’re cooking for me, as well,” Cillian countered.

“Of course!” Y/N said then. “But I was browsing around online at a business map of the city, and there were a couple of specialty corner shops that look amazing, so I was hoping to drop into those at some point.”

“Which ones?” Cillian asked her.

After Y/N mentioned the names of the shops she’d come across, Cillian was giving a hum of approval.

“So, you’re finally gonna make good on your promise to cook for me?” he said.

“When did I promise to cook for you?” Y/N asked, arching her eyebrow.

“That night way back when I made the steaks and we listened to your playlist. You promised that the next time, you’d be the cook.”

Y/N smiled and felt her heart skip again. She thought about that night often, and she was pleased to know that it was memorable for Cillian as well.

“I did say that, didn’t I?” Y/N replied.

“Yep,” came Cillian’s amused answer. “So you better impress me.”

A couple of hours later, Y/N was going through her mental checklist of everything for the trip, and she was nestling Cillian’s Blundstones at the bottom of her larger suitcase before setting her clothes inside. Glancing over at her closet once more, Y/N then hesitated briefly as she scanned the hangers, her eyes landing on a special item.

Carefully stepping over to the closet on the balls of her feet, as if she was afraid someone would hear and see her, Y/N had looked for another moment before timidly reaching out for the specific hanger, again feeling like secrecy was necessary. As she’d pulled the hanger off the bar and brought it closer to her, she was instantly blushing as she’d gently touched the fabric of the item it held.

It was the black lace bodysuit that had been a favorite of hers from her photoshoot with Hannah. Much of the lingerie Y/N had worn that day had been bra and panty separates, but this particular one-piece was, in her opinion, better than any of those sets.

It was extremely feminine and sexy, with beautiful scalloped lace on the chest and torso, and a semi-sheer V of fabric for the lower half. The back was minimal, with thin straps that ran down the shoulder blades to then attach to the wrap-around lace at the waist. Finally, the area that sat just above the hips tapered off into a G-string that left the bottom completely exposed. It was incredibly sexy but sophisticated, and Y/N had felt so sensual and confident when she’d had it on. When Hannah had seen how much Y/N liked the piece, she’d offered to let her keep it, and she’d teased her that she hoped she’d put it to use soon with the certain someone who had inspired Y/N to feel so sexy in the first place. And while a part of Y/N knew that it was silly to keep it, a bigger part of her couldn’t refuse, and the piece had been hanging in her closet ever since.

Looking at it again at that moment, Y/N had blushed once more and again hesitated. Just like at the end of the photoshoot, a part of her knew it was silly — that she wouldn’t be wearing this for the man in question, and nothing like that was likely going to happen between them. However, also just like last time, something inside her hadn’t been able to leave it behind, and it was telling her to bring it along anyway. Although still blushing furiously to herself at the thoughts that were swirling around in her head about Cillian, Y/N had moved back across the room before she could convince herself otherwise, and she removed the bodysuit from the hanger and carefully placed it in her smaller suitcase.

So what if nothing would probably happen between her and Cillian? So what if it’d remain buried in her suitcase and she’d never put it on? It didn’t mean she couldn’t humor herself with the idea. No one else would ever know.

Now, back in the present, Y/N had retrieved her suitcases from the luggage carousel and was pulling her cell phone out of the back pocket of her jeans. Cillian had let her know earlier that he’d be picking her up from the airport, and now that she had reception again, she was opening her messages to text him as they’d planned, letting him know that she was headed out of baggage claim and out to the curbside loading zone, but he’d beaten her to the punch.

CM: Dark green Mini Cooper. S44 WLE

Y/N read the description of the car and the license plate to look for, and then she was swallowing nervously as she felt the butterflies in her stomach. This all felt so intimate, so domestic, and she was trying to calm the butterflies as she wove her way through the other people in the airport. She was recalling every text and phone call she’d had with Cillian over the last week, and was once again in near disbelief of all this.

Making it to the wide automatic doors and stepping through them, Y/N was then out on the sidewalk. Although it was overcast and chilly, she was still momentarily squinting her eyes, the natural outdoor light different from the interior manufactured lighting of the airport. She paused briefly to zip her jacket up all the way, and then was wheeling her suitcases along behind her as she slowly moved and looked around, scanning the dozens of cars that were pulling up and moving along beside the pickup curb.

She didn’t see any sign of the car Cillian had described, but just as she was reaching into her pocket for her phone again, she heard a short, quick blast of a car horn, and when she looked up, she saw a forest green Mini Cooper slowing down along the curb a few yards ahead and gradually inching closer as other cars moved out of the way.

Her pulse rising, Y/N gripped the handles of her suitcases and slowly began to walk towards the car. Even though it was obviously the car Cillian had described, Y/N was still examining the license plate as she got nearer, and when she saw that it matched what Cillian had told her, she was then slouching slightly and tilting her head to try and get a look at the person in the driver’s seat, and then smiling.

Seeing Y/N up ahead, Cillian was immediately grinning as he registered the slightly uncertain look on her face and noticed her overall nervous body language. It was clear that she felt a bit out of sorts, but the sight of her had him so pleased, that he just wanted to get her in the car as soon as possible.

As soon as he got close enough to where he knew she’d notice him, Cillian gave a short blast of the horn and then smiled to himself again as he saw the look on Y/N’s face change from nervous, to cautiously excited. And then he was chuckling to himself as he watched her quickly bend down to see him and verify his license plate. Through the windshield, he gave her a quick wiggle of his fingers in a confirmational greeting, and then once he’d fully pulled up against the curb, he was putting the car in park briefly, then got out and silently walked around to the back of the car.

Y/N understanding that they were making this quick due to all the people around, she saved her greeting and simply wheeled her suitcases to the back of the car where Cillian was opening the trunk. When she got to him, he silently reached over and took the handles of her bags from her, lowering them and then bending down to pick one up. He lifted it into the trunk for her, and then the other, and then closed the trunk door. They each were then walking around the car to their respective sides, Y/N getting into the passenger seat and then turning her head to watch as Cillian got back in the driver’s seat. As soon as he’d closed the door, the two of them were looking at each other, and each of their subdued smiles turned into full-blown grins as their eyes met.

“Hi,” Y/N said to him, and her heart was pounding with giddiness.

“Hi,” Cillian said back to her, unbelievably pleased that she was finally with him again. “How was your flight?”

“Good,” Y/N nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Long, but good. But I’m glad to be on the ground again.”

“I know what you mean,” Cillian said with a nod of his own.

Smiling at him once more, Y/N’s excitement was obvious.

“I can’t believe I’m here,” she said.

Chuckling, Cillian then quickly looked over his shoulder as he put the car in drive again and then began to ease into the flow of cars as he pulled away from the curb.

“Well, you better believe it, because I’ve got a lovesick black lab and box of Frosted Flakes waiting for you back at the house.”

Giggling then, Y/N continued to look at Cillian as he drove, and she had to fight the incredibly strong urge to lean across the armrest and give him a kiss. Instead, she spoke again as she glanced down and looked at his hands on the steering wheel.

“This is so weird,” she said then, and she was shaking her head as Cillian glanced over at her.

“What is?” he asked.

“Being in this car, watching you drive around like it’s nothing out of the ordinary. I think I’ve only seen you drive, like, twice the entire time I’ve known you.”

“That’s because you arrange a car for nearly everything,” Cillian replied with a grin. “It took me ten minutes to convince you to let me drive myself to the store that time I needed batteries for the TV remote.”

Giggling again, Y/N was still looking at him, and when they stopped at a red light, Cillian was fully turning his head to look back at her. But Y/N’s expression was quickly fading from a smile, to one of shocked realization as she glanced up at the top of Cillian’s head and registered the black beanie he was wearing. When she then noticed the partially exposed shorn sides of his head, her eyebrows rose even higher, and then Cillian knew that she’d finally noticed.

“Oh. My. God.” She said slowly.

She was still looking at his head, and when she finally lowered her eyes to Cillian’s, he was giving her a look that was a cross between guilt, and saying “it’s not a big deal.”

Without thinking, Y/N was lifting her hand and reaching across the seats, stopping at Cillian’s head and gently grasping his beanie, then slowly pulling it off him to fully reveal what was beneath. Once her hand was lowered and she set the hat down on her knee, she was slowly shaking her head as she absorbed what she saw.

“You cut your hair already?” she said, still processing the fact.

“I didn’t. Someone else did,” Cillian replied, the slightest smirk of amusement on his face.

“I can’t believe they cut it already,” Y/N said with another slow shake of her head. “I didn’t think they’d do it right away. I wasn’t prepared for this.”

“You???” Cillian said then, his smirk widening. “I’m the one who got the damn cut.”

“I can’t believe they cut it already,” Y/N repeated herself. “This is so sad. The last time I saw you, you still had it longer. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to your gorgeous locks before they sheared ‘em off you. I was not prepared for this.”

At her words, Cillian was laughing out loud and shaking his head, and then he had to turn back to the road as the light changed to green and he stepped on the gas.

“It’s just hair,” he said as they began to move. “It’ll grow back. Thankfully.”

Y/N could hear the slightly resentful tone in Cillian’s voice as he said that, and she was smiling and then turning to look out the window, immediately re-focused to taking in all the sights and surroundings as Cillian drove them through the streets. It still felt so surreal to be there.

“I don’t know why you hate the Tommy cut so much,” Cillian heard Y/N say then, and he saw in his peripheral that she was fishing her phone out of her jacket pocket and then looking down at it to open her camera. She was fiddling with the settings as she continued speaking. “It makes you look even sexier, so you really shouldn’t hate it so much.”

Upon hearing that, Cillian’s pulse quickened, and his own brows were raising in surprise at how easily she’d said that. But when he fully looked over at Y/N, it was clear she wasn’t even aware of what she’d just said, too distracted with fiddling with her phone and then attempting to take a photo of something they drove past to realize her little opinion that she’d shared.

Smiling to himself, Cillian was incredibly tempted to reach out and grab that phone out of Y/N’s hands, and then pull the car over and pull her across the armrest and into his lap. But when they came to another red light and stopped, Y/N was speaking again.

“I’m gonna go ahead and apologize in advance, because I’ll tell you right now that I’m gonna be annoyingly tourist-y this entire trip. You’re gonna regret that I’m here within a day or two.”

Laughing out loud again, Cillian smiled and then replied.

“No regrets,” he said, shaking his head. “But just in case, maybe start bookmarking some early return flights. That way I can ship you back outta here as quick as possible if I want to.”

And then they were both laughing as Y/N playfully threw his beanie back at him in mock offense.

“Ass,” she said jokingly, and then they were both laughing again as the light turned green, allowing them to keep driving, making their way closer to the house with the box of Frosted Flakes in the cupboard, and the lovesick black lab who was waiting eagerly for them, his big wet nose pressed to the window.

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#anything you need #thank you for the reblog #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy x female reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy smut #18+ only

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lau219 · 15 hours ago

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Ooooo, girl, this was amazing! You describe Tommy’s aroused desperation so well. I love that the Reader gives him the respite he doesn’t even know he wants and needs. I enjoyed reading Tommy being so vulnerable. Loved the way you ended up finishing this, too! Bravo! 👏

WRECKED

Summary: Dilf Tommy going through the thoughts and motions of getting a handjob that feels like knocking at the gates of heaven.

A/N: Huge thanks to @lau219 for helping me get through the ending of this, you’re an angel! A formal apology to @cherryjennn in the form of a smut one shot because i owe her something other than depression drabbles.

NSFW 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

How he'd gotten here he wasn't entirely sure. What he'd done to be offered this reprieve was unknown to him, even more so at a moment like this where his mind, rarely enough, had no thoughts ricocheting like bullets but solely focused on the hands on his skin.

Soft and warm and plump unlike his own, slithering on him with a tenderness he could barely handle let alone feel worthy of it but fuck did he crave it.

Oh, craved it.

Like a starved fool, and it showed. In the way he leaned against that cold wall, shoulders slumped and yielded, lips parted in surrender, legs stretched wide to accommodate the ones that had squirmed their way under his thighs. It was pathetic really. How he allowed you to cage him against the wall of this damp, musty wine cellar where anyone could stumble upon them and see him half undressed and trembling like a boy.

Tommy didn't know how to handle this. He knew lust, knew it well. He'd fucked charming women that always came too short of being lovers as much as he'd fucked whores he could barely remember the sillouette of their faces.

This wasn't just lust. He knew it wasn't.

How could it be? With your bright eyes looking back at him like he was something to be seen, drinking in his moaned breaths, reveling in the shivers you caused when your lips traced over his jaw. You egged him on, quiet and sweet, all while your fingers curled around his cock in a tempo that did nothing but melt his fucking brain.

He shuddered.

Kisses and touches, that tongue brushing up his throat in synch with a poignant tug on the head of his length had him whimpering weakly and you moaned back in return. Pleased by his own pleasure, satisfied with reducing him to nothing more than gasps and blinks, nods and barely held groans, jittery hands and trembling thighs.

You enjoyed having him like this, and Tommy, tired and worn as he was enjoyed the touch of someone that didn't only take from him. Someone that both made his spine tingle and skin prickle as much as you made his cock leak into your fingers all while he sat there, useless, uttering "please" and "love" and all the other little curses and whines you evoked from him.

Your other hand touched him just as greedily, slipping under his half unbuttoned shirt to glide over the clammy skin of his stomach and he stretched back into the wall, arching against your touch like a cat pushing for more pets.

He groaned, more like whined, a staggered fuck choking in his windpipe and you laughed. Soft, quiet, exhilarated. The sound made his cock ache and his hips quivered back into those curled fingers, each stroke leaving him even more wrecked then the last.

His little thrust marathon was quickly hushed down though, the hand on his stomach growing firmer as you eased him back, thighs pushing closer under his own and Tommy acquised by slumping back against the wall.

Your lips found his face again, wet and warm, like a reward that had his mind reeling and his body yearning for more. He followed your lips with eagerness, face tilting hopelessly in search for more of that affection that burned him from the inside, feeling them skim across his cheek, down his jaw.

His breath staggered and he shifted again on the floor to pull you closer, hands brushing over your hair to touch— anything really.

"Fucking hell, love" The words heaved past his lips, full of want and a tenderness of his own that he barely recognized but at this point in life he had no energy to disguise it.

You didn't know him any different either, didn't know his brutality, his lunacy. No, you'd gotten this version of him. Weary, of life itself, like a rough stone made smooth as it tumbled down a shallow stream. Weary enough to allow himself moments like this, to be made malleable by someone nearly half his age and enjoy it because he craved it even if he would deny it to anybody else.

"Hush Tom" Your free fingers carded through his hair, gently. Gently enough to muddle his brain further. Tom, you called him, warm and familiar and inviting. He didn't know how to feel about that but whimpered in response, eyes tightening closed and letting himself drown in those lips and that sweet voice and those nimble fingers stroking him to oblivion.

"Just relax"

"I am— i am relaxed, i am" Tommy promised, voice staggering with a lump in his throat he had to swallow as your palm closed around his swollen head.

Fucking hell.

Pleasure swirled in his gut, tightening inside him with a force that threatened to break him. He whined and that hand in his hair slid down his face towards his jaw, tugging his attention, forcing his fluttering lashes open and he looked at you— feeling like a fool.

You were too beautiful for him, too sweet to be making a mess of an old man like him but the depth in those eyes had him hooked. The smile that peaked at the sight of his teary eyes had him devastatingly attached and Thomas Shelby was a selfish man. No amount of years would make him let go of the things that made him feel good. You made him feel good. Wanted, safe. It was a disarming feeling, lust and affection mixed in a heady concoction that messed with his head and body in ways he was still grappling with.

You kissed him again, moaned against his tongue at the taste of nicotine and whatever the hell he tasted like these days and his breath sputtered at your tongue heavy on his own. He was tittering on the edge of bliss, fingers flexing restlessly in their hair and they tightened their hold around his cock. You knew he was closing in, you knew everything about him it seemed, and the shallow moans and the slickness in your palm told you everything.

"Come on, Tom"

He shuddered at that command disguised as praise, muscles tensing in delight at the sheer want and gentleness in your voice.

His hands tumbled down your hair, grasping at your arms as he looked for something to hold onto and by the time your lips suckled on his jaw, tongue brushing down the sharpness of chin like a popsicle he was unraveling whole. You moaned against his skin and he panted, letting bliss take a hold of him completely.

Your fingers wiped away the stray tears that had managed to escape him and he let you, mind made mush and heart beating in his throat. Still, he didn't know what to do with you, when your little laugh rang muddled in his ears at the mess you made of him he didn't know what to say so he said nothing but allowed himself to pull you closer.

Hold you as best he could, trapped as you had him. He didn't dare open his eyes yet. Maybe he could hold on to this bit of pleasure for some time longer, hold on to this piece of heaven even if he didn't know what to do with it.

#srryaboutallthatnoise #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #cillian murphy #18+ only

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