#cillian Murphy x reader

[mysaintkitten]

need a dom thomas shelby fic with bimbo reader!!! ur so good at it!!

thank you so so much !!! hope I did this request justice lol

Just wanna talk | Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

prompt: Tommy gets fed up with your rambling and decides to shut you up

WARNINGS: SMUT (18+ MDNI), mean/misogynistic Tommy, daddy kink, free use kink implied kinda, creampie

*not proofread*

“Daddy,” you huffed frustratingly for what seemed like the millionth time while patting his thigh, “daddy!”

Tommy, like always, was working. That’s all he seemed to do these days, and you were starting to grow sick of it.

You kneeled beside his office chair while wearing your favourite little dress without any panties. As you were running your hand along his thigh and hoping that the touches combined with the name calling would be enough to grab his attention, it seemed like Tommy just had one too many things going on today.

“I’ve missed you, daddy, I just wanna talk …”

Apparently, that was the thing that pushed him over the edge.

“Talk? Talk? All you do is fucking talk.” He spat at you suddenly.

With a groan, Tommy slammed his pen down and then nudged his chair back, standing to his feet as he hastily undid his pants. You were about to follow his lead, but he aggressively makes you stay down on your knees, “no, stay put.”

You bite your lip and bat your lashes while looking up at him, bringing your hand forward to palm him through the fabric.

“After a long, hard day, I don’t wanna fuckin’ talk, sweetheart. I want you either on your knees, ready to suck my cock, or in bed with your legs spread for me. Understood?”

He swats your hand away and tugs his trousers down just enough to free his semi hard cock.

As you’re about to reach for his length again he grabs your hair and the base of his cock, shoving himself inside your mouth before you can even process it.

You whine out of surprise and gag slightly around him as he begins to fuck your mouth. He pants and groans at your warmth, dipping his head back before bringing his gaze back down to watch your lips stretch around his cock.

“This is what you wanted, huh? Wanted me to get so fuckin’ fed up with your blabbering that I just shut you up with my cock?” Tommy growled through gritted teeth, relentlessly fucking your throat without care.

You can only whimper around him, and your eyes squeeze shut as your mascara begins to run down your cheeks. You instinctively place a hand on his thigh as a weak attempt to get him to slow down, he only slaps your hand away continues his harsh pace.

“No, no, you take what daddy gives you.”

As if you weren’t already turned on enough, Tommy’s unwavering dominance gets you wetter. He doesn’t care what you say or think, all he cares about doing is getting off while reminding you of your place as a wife.

Suddenly, his rough pace halts, and your nose is now pressed against his trimmed patch of pubic hair. You gag again and your eyes brim with fresh tears as you struggle to breathe.

“Look at me, princess,” Tommy groans sweetly with that deliciously deep voice of his. Through tear soaked lashes, you stare up at him, feeling your cunt burn hotter as he moans at the sight.

“My pretty girl, such a good little cock sucker …” he praises, knowing exactly how to push all your right buttons. Sprinkle in a few sweet words while degrading you, he is your husband, after all.

He starts to pull you off and brings his slick cock right back to you, his hot member lying across your face demeaningly while his fingers remain locked in your hair.

He doesn’t need to say anything, you know what he wants. Like the good girl that you are, you lick and suck on his balls gently, making sure to maintain eye contact while you do it. Tommy stands there mesmerized, his mouth hanging slightly agape as he groans a few curses and praises.

Finally, he releases his grip onto your hair- just before pushing you down onto your back, shoving you harshly against the ground as you mewl.

His large, strong hands turn you onto your stomach and as you begin to squirm Tommy plants his hand firmly on your back, forcing you down while he straddles your thighs.

He flips up the end of your skirt and spreads your lips apart, watching hungrily as your leaky little cunt clenches around nothing. You’re so desperate to be ravished it’s pathetic, but Tommy loves it. All of it.

He loves how he can use whichever holes he likes, whenever he likes, he loves how he can treat you like a filthy whore and all you’ll do is come crawling back begging for more.

“Jesus, look at that …” Tommy sighs, using his thumb guide his tip towards your opening, pushing his head in without any resistance. You whimper softly at the sensation before Tommy abruptly slides his entire member inside, his cock now resting painfully deep inside you.

He doesn’t stay put for long and he quickly develops a steady, harsh pace that already has you gasping for air. Your entire body is buzzing, intoxicating doses of pain and pleasure flood your system.

You’re convinced your brain has completely melted at this point, and all you’ve become is a life sized fuck toy just for Tommy. Your mouth hangs open while pathetic moans spill out, your back arches towards him and your toes start to curl.

“Yes, yes, yes-“ you sob mindlessly while he abuses your velvety walls, his force and lack of care heightening your sensitivity.

“That’s my girl, you like when daddy fucks you like this, baby?”

Of course he already knows the answer, the way your pussy is fluttering and drooling around him is proof enough- he just wants to hear how ruined you’ve become.

“Y-yes, yes-“ you pant shakily before swallowing harshly, “l-love when you fuck me like th-is, daddy-“

You sound even better than he was imagining, making him chuckle breathily before smacking you on your ass, forcing a small yelp out of you.

“Such a good fucking whore, pretty little cunt takes me so well, s’like shes beggin’ me to come inside,” Tommy hisses while smacking your ass again in the same spot, intensifying the already painful sting.

You mewl for two reasons, one being the smack, the other being Tommy’s comment- watering you down to nothing but a good hole, you hated how much you loved it.

“You want daddy to come inside?” Tommy cooes sweetly after hearing your whines, not genuinely caring if you want it or not. Despite knowing this, you nod, begging for him to claim you.

With a few more deep thrusts, Tommy’s shooting his load inside, keeping his hips pressed against your ass while groaning through gritted teeth as the pleasure courses through him.

Once he’s ridden out his high, he slides himself out and watches in awe as his come spills out of your used hole. Your wrecked pussy along with your reddened ass cheeks cause his softening cock to twitch, nearly becoming hard again.

Really, you didn’t even care that you didn’t get to come, the rush from his touch and attention gave you all the dopamine you could ask for.

Then, with a grunt, Tommy gets up off you and stands to his feet while tucking his cock away. You stay on the ground before trying to push yourself up, your arms and legs much too shaky to get you up.

Tommy sees you struggle and clicks his tongue, leaning down to pick you up bridal style. Once you’re in his arms, he kisses your cheek and neck before nipping playfully at the skin.

“Let’s run you a bath, love.” Tommy hums warmly, and you smiled before nuzzling your head into his neck as he carried you off into the bathroom.

—

I know I said ‘free use implied’ but I would loooove to write more straight up free use, especially with Tommy :) teehee !!!!

[cilliansbabe]

Cillian in Variety Actors on Actors interview 💗

[wutheringcaterpillar]

hey can you write for Cillian being jealous over his wife/fiance / girlfriend who's 20 years younger after her co worker was flirting with her in a party. After they headed home they had a fight and a hate/rough/ jealousy fuck but ended up hugging eo like nothing happened because it was the first fight fuck they had and they enjoyed it

Thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!

Warnings: age gap (20 yr age difference), rough sex, jealousy, p in v

After finally wrapping up the movie you were filming, Cillian arrived with you to an after party in celebration held at the studio. He had been so proud of his brilliant, beautiful wife and was there to show his support.

The evening carried on quite well, the writers and producers carrying on casual conversation with Cillian and asking of his filming endeavors and what he thinks makes a script flourish and stick out with great potential to become a huge hit.

After a few drinks at the bar, he excused himself to the restroom, giving you a peck on the cheek.

That was when Jake approached you. He was around your age range, early twenties and he was a close friend of yours ever since the first of filming. It was rare he was dressed up and seeing him so was quite a breath taker, he was quite handsome.

“Hey! There’s the star!” He welcomed you with open arms into a warm hug, causing you to smile widely. You had never been complimented so much in a day and honestly it was very wonderful and made you feel appreciated, not that Cillian didn’t but it was nice to hear from co workers and strangers too.

“Did you see the scrapbook Carly made of some fun moments we had on set? She really made it for you with it being your first film an all.” When you shook your head no, Jake walked you over to the table.

Cillian exited the bathroom only to find you not where he expected you to be, spotting you over by the city view window, Jake standing next to you with his hand settled on your lowerback.

Making his way over, he could hear Jake make a comment to you about how out of all other actresses he’d worked with, you had been the best. The comment made you smile and giggle, causing a deep discomfort to settle over Cillian like an impending storm.

“Oh, honey hi! Jake was just showing me the scrapbook Carly made, so sweet of her isn’t it?” Cillian smiled and nodded pleasently, hiding the building jealousy as Jake swayed closer to you. As a man himself Cillian knew that Jake was looking at you with lustful, scheming eyes before turning his attention to him.

“You have a hell of a wife here, quite talented she is, and beautiful might I add.” Jake winked toward you, causing your cheeks to burn an amber shade of red while Cillian stood there with his eyebrows raised that this man had the audacity to make a such a motion in front of him. 

Lapping his tongue over his lip and chuckling darkly, his arm flexed behind your shoulders as a way of claiming his territory, looking Jake directly in the eyes.

“I’m well aware what I have. I feel I must inform you, your zipper’s down and you lusting over a married woman makes you look quite pathetic and desperate, guess that comes with young age and stupidity. You had her in a scene, fake might I add. I have her daily, now go check your trousers  and yourself little boy before you try hitting on my wife again. We’ll be leaving now.” Embarrassment spread over Jake’s face as he looked around the room, seeing if anyone else noticed.

Cillian grabbed your hand, dragging you out of the party as you yelled goodbyes and thank yous’ to all of your co stars.

He had never acted like this and you were more than pissed at his actions. As an actor himself he should know how to compose himself and realize that you were a grown woman who loved him and never gave him a reason to believe you’d cheat.

The car ride was silent while tensions were high. Shifting your legs, you held the position facing the window not even wanting to make eye contact with Cillian. How could he embarrass you like that? 

Meanwhile he continued driving, knuckles wrapped white and tight around the wheel, jaw clenched in anger.

Arriving home, you bursted through the door in an angered storm, lips pursed in disgust. Cillian simply scoffed, yelling behind you as you climbed the stairs to the bedroom after taking your heels off

“Did you even care that I showed up for you? Cause it looked like you were too wrapped up in Jake’s fucking flirtatious remarks to even notice I was there.” Turning around in fury, you pointed your finger, pushing his chest lightly while you stared at him with venomous eyes.

“Well maybe if my husband wasn’t an insecure little jealous bitch this all could have been avoided, but wait maybe that comes with age like you said to Jake!” Shoving you against the wall with gritted teeth, he pulled his tie off aggressively while wrapping his hand around your throat. Your head bounced back against the sturdy wall.

In a heated wave of anger, Cillian’s eyes flamed like a blue rose set on fire while your eyes bore into his skull with a lustful fury.

Clashing his lips against yours roughly breaking the tension, your hand grazed up the back of his neck pulling him in closer needing to taste him. 

He lifted you off the ground effortlessly as you fumbled with his belt never breaking your lips from his, tongues exploring one anothers, moaning in between kisses.

His cock popped out from the tailored trousers, the thick head leaking with pre cum waiting ever impatiently to be between your wet folds.

“Take me. Go on take me before I-“ Cillian silenced your smirk words with his cock unexpectedly sliding forcefully into your tight hole making you gasp.

“Not so smart now are we love?” He began to plow irelentlessly into your cunt, your breasts falling shamelessly from your dress.

He wanted you to hear you moan, to beg for more because it was only him who you belonged to, only him who could pleasure you in such a memorable way.

Spreading you over the wooden dresser, his strong hands grasped at your thighs, slamming you down onto his cock, filling you with every singular inch of his girthy member.

Something about seeing him fuck you still in his tuxedo sent a thrill up your spine, maybe you needed to argue more if the sex was going to be like this.

Pulling him down, you buried his head in your breasts, ankles tying behind his back, pushing him further inside, as far as you could.

His tongue lapsed at your cleavage before moving to your nipples, sucking like a baby needed it’s bottle, nibbling at the delicate skin.

“Fuck Cil- more!” All of a sudden, the pleasurable thrusts came to a hault. He lifted his head, whispering in your ear with sarcasm.

“I’m sorry, what was that? You need more, from me? Why should I give it to you, you have Jake.”

“Cill, please! Just fuck me you stubborn ass, you know I’m fucking yours.” That’s all he needed to hear, but the thought of Jake’s hands on you still pissed him off.

Your soaked walls clenched to him desperately, squeezing and craving for more friction, a faster pace as your orgasm was nearing closer and closer with each passing second, each power driven ram into your aching cervix.

He didn’t know his wife could be anymore hot, anymore sexy than she was right now before his very eyes.

He flipped you over onto your stomach, pulling your head back by your hair, causing the once well combed strands to completely fall to ruins.

Your ass bounced back against him, the jiggling motion richocheting against his skin as he pounded into you relentlessly, his cock filling every inch of your dripping cunt.

“Cil-Cil I’m going to-“ You didn’t get to finish your sentence, hands gripping desperately at the sides of the dresser while your orgasm twitched with a majestic feeling of euphoria through your body. Coming completely undone beneath your husband who never failed to ensure you came first.

When he felt the wave of your alluring nectar stream down his shaft, with one last, detrimental pound you felt his cock pulsate inside of you, the stream of his seed watering your uterus. Your moans mixing together in a harmonious end to a fight.

Cillian was like a drug you’d never, ever want to quit.

Standing up, you fixed the strap of you dress, patting the fabric down and wiping the sweat from your forehead while he pulled his pants back up in a now tired haze. 

There was an awkward silence but no further argumentative statements or yelling, like the storm has passed.

“Let’s go to bed yeah?” Nodding, you followed him to bed, curling into his side falling asleep peacefully as if nothing happened.

[paradiseprincesss]

espresso - jonathan crane x reader

summary: a meet cute that turns into domestic life with our beloved dr. crane.

warnings: swearing, slight implied age gap (reader is in her early 20's, jonathan is late 20's), fluff <3, ooc whoops dont hate me

a/n: this is like my first fic ever, so please be kind!! sorry for any mistakes about his character or anything like that, i'm a new cillian fan and i've only watched the first batman movie with him in it so again sorry if i made mistakes with his character lol <3 side note; this is heavily inspired by "espresso" by sabrina carpenter because I ADORE HER and im probably going to make more fics inspired by music or songs lol

as the rain continued to pour down from the sky onto the city of gotham, you sat in the bedroom of your apartment in your favourite pyjamas, phone in hand as you gushed to your friend about the encounter you had today.

"i swear, it was some meet cute situation straight out of a romance movie," you say over the phone, giggling, "holy shit, he was so cute though, but yeah - that's how he asked me out."

you were telling your friend about how earlier in the day, you so happened to bump into a very handsome stranger at your favourite coffee shop - well, technically, he bumped into you. as you were turning around to walk out of the coffee shop, iced coffee in hand, you suddenly gasped at the feeling of hot coffee spilling on your sundress.

"jesus, im sorry-" you heard a flustered voice say, and you quickly look up to find a handsome, tall, dark haired stranger, with eyes so blue you could still get lost in them through the glasses he was wearing. he was reaching over to grab napkins off the counter, and awkwardly tried to pat the coffee off your dress.

you laughed softly, and shook your head while taking the napkins from his grasp and tried to get the remnants of coffee off yourself, "mistakes happen," you softly assure the stranger while doing so.

after a few moments of fumbling around with napkins together, you tossed them aside into the trash, and he spoke to you again.

"i apologize, i've had quite the morning, and i was not looking where i was going, are you alright?" he asks, and you lock eyes again. god, he was actually gorgeous.

"i'm alright, it's okay," you assured him once more, "i get it, we all have days like that." you say softly, with a little smile, noticing his suit and tie.

he looks at you quietly for a moment, seemingly taking you in, before gently speaking again, "i'm sorry, i'm not usually this brash or forward by any means, but are you seeing anyone?"

you stare at him with surprise for a moment, before responding to him with a slight blush dusting your cheeks, "...no uh, i'm not, why? tryna ask me out on a date or something?" you quipped, suddenly feeling a little bold.

"i am, yeah. how about you give me your number and i'll take you out to dinner sometime this week?" he casually asks you, and you stared at him surprised again - this handsome stranger (who, by the way, just spilled coffee on you?!), was asking you out on a date...how could you say no?

"oh, um, yes, okay. yeah." you say, slightly flustered, as he pulls his phone out and gives it to you so that you could add in your contact information. after you gave him your number, you smiled softly at him as he spoke to you again.

"i'll text you, sound good?" he asks, casually again, which makes your heart leap for some reason, and all you could do was nod, as you made your way out of the coffee shop with your iced coffee.

and that's how you ended up on the phone with your friend gushing about the event that unfolded earlier on in your day.

"maybe he's the one." your friend teased, with a giggle.

"could you imagine?" you say back, laughing.

"and it was the worst hangover of my life." you joked, a glass of your favourite wine in hand as you looked at the man across the fancy restaurant table from you.

"i haven't been hungover since college." he laughed along with you, looking at you with a smile.

you we're on a date with the man who had spilled his coffee onto you, who you learned was jonathan crane; the chief psychiatrist at arkham asylum. you told him your name, and what you were currently majoring in. with the car he picked you up in and with the restaurant he took you to for the first date, you were already falling, quickly too. clearly, he had a taste for the finer things in life.

after a few more drinks, and good food, the two of you continued on talking as if you had known each other forever. then, the two of you headed out, and he drove you back home to your apartment. as he pulled up to your apartment complex, he parked his car and insisted that he walk you up to the front doors of the building. what a gentleman, you thought.

as you got to the front of the complex building, you turned around to thank him, and he smiled softly at you.

"yeah, of course,” he says with a pause and then he sighs, “god, you’re so beautiful.” he whispers softly, taking his hand, tracing your jawline and cupping your face softly, and before you knew it - you were leaning into his touch, and you felt his lips on yours.

"i can't stop thinking about you, i miss you." he sighs to you, over the phone.

jonathan was stuck working late again at arkham asylum, and yet he still he still made time to call you, just to hear your voice once more. the two of you had been dating for a few months now, and you'd never been with someone before who treated you with such love and adoration.

you stared at the vase of red roses on your table, which he brought to you weekly because he 'knows they're your favourite', as he always said, and you smiled to yourself softly.

"i miss you more." you said dreamily over the phone.

there was silence on his end for a moment, before he eventually sighed and spoke again, "you don't have class tomorrow, right?"

you smile to yourself again, knowing he usually followed this up by asking to see you or something along those lines, "...no."

"can i see you?"

your heart leaped at those four words you loved to hear, "yeah, of course. come over?"

again, he was silent for a moment - almost as if he was lost in thought. you didn't blame him, working late at an asylum was tiring. after a few moments, he still didn't say anything, and you spoke into your phone again, softly, "jon?"

"you should move in with me. i dunno, just a thought..." he trails off, suddenly speaking up again.

you felt your cheeks heat up at the thought of actually living with him, moving in. "...why not?" you say, with a breathless laugh.

"let's discuss tomorrow, i'll drive to yours around noon, but i have to get back to work," he sighed, "i love you."

i love you, you could never get tired of hearing those words come out of his mouth, "okay, i love you too, jon. see you tomorrow."

and with that, you hung up - giggling like a schoolgirl with a crush. jonathan was whipped for you; he was wrapped around your finger, and you loved it. you knew he was thinking of you and you only every night, every day, 24/7 really.

jonathan wrapped his arms around you, hugging you from behind as you cooked dinner in the kitchen.

"missed you at work today." he softly says, placing a soft kiss behind your ear, and a few more down your neck, making you giggle.

"my mind kept wandering to you during class today," you confess, feeling his arms stay put around you, "dinner should be ready in around 15 minutes."

"theres fresh roses on the table for you, darling. got them on my way home from work for you, appreciate you making dinner, you didn't have to." he tells you, kissing your cheek before unwrapping his arms from you, as he made his way out of the kitchen.

feeling content and loved, you sigh happily to yourself, finishing up your cooking. after dinner, the two of you sat cuddled up on the couch together, watching some show on netflix you were currently binging. as you stayed there, snuggled up in his arms, you felt him take a gentle hold of your hand, and his thumb brushed over the diamond ring on your finger.

oh right - the diamond engagement ring that he had proposed to you with just after your two-year anniversary. he had put in so much effort, taking you away for a weekend vacation, where he surprised you with a hotel room littered with rose petals and candles. he told you how much he loved you; how he just adored you and couldn't see himself living a life without you in it.

he gave you his heart, and you gave him yours. he knew after you found out about him being scarecrow, and you were actually okay with it, that he was going to make you mrs. crane.

it's funny, really, you didn't mean to find out, but jonathan was working suspiciously late for the last couple weeks, and your mind automatically went to the worst; an affair.

however, after doing some snooping around (you pulled a joe goldberg, obviously, and started following him around when he said he was at "work"), only to find out that he was in fact not having an affair, but just fear gassing people around gotham in what appeared to be a burlap scarecrow mask of some sort. phew!

a part of you knew that this was indeed fucked up, but i mean hey, he wasn't cheating, and he treated you so good, we all look past certain things for the people we love, right?

when he came home one night around 3 am, he found you waiting in the living room of your shared apartment, arms crossed and a pout on your pretty face.

"you scared me! i thought you were cheating on me. next time just tell me if your...doing whatever your doing with that toxin stuff you create at work." you exclaimed at him, looking cute as ever while doing so.

he was silent for a moment - shocked, actually. he didn't know what shocked him more, the fact that you thought he would ever betray you like that with another woman or that you didn't care about his secondary...job.

"...darling, i can't tell if your being satire or not." he says cautiously, taking a few steps closer to you on the couch.

"i'm really not." you roll your eyes, and huff.

jonathan was silent again, before laughing softly and shaking his head, coming over to wrap his arms around you, his voice low and gentle.

"i love you but-"

"i followed you." you say quickly, knowing that he was going to say something along the lines of 'but how did you find out?'

he gives you loving look, and smiles softly at you. he says nothing and instead, just pulls you into a deep kiss, in which you happily return.

"you're crazy, you know that?" he whispers against your lips, and you give him a look.

"and you're not?" you quip, and he's suddenly dragging you to your shared bedroom, hands all over your body.

"shhh." he whispers, peppering kisses all over your neck as he pushes you back on the bed.

looking at your husband with a doting expression, you sigh contently, iced coffee in hand. the both of you had the day off, and you both decided to start the day with a cute morning coffee date.

as he puts his cup of black coffee down, he takes your hand in his, and smiles softly at you.

"we should go on vacation again soon, i need a fucking break from work." he says, and you knew work had been exhausting him recently - no, not his actual job, he was talking about his other job, you know the one where he goes around terrorizing gotham.

"d'wanna go to mexico?" you ask, suggesting your favourite vacation spot, and he nods, holding your hands tighter.

"wherever you want to go, we'll go." he says gently, thumb brushing over your ring.

as you were about to say something back to him, his arm almost knocked his cup of coffee over.

"watch your arm - don't want espresso all over me again." you tease, smiling softly at your husband.

[viesanterieures]

𝑨 𝑮𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝑳𝒊𝒇𝒆 | 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝟐

Robert Fischer (Inception) x Reader

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summary: Robert and the reader have nothing in common. He's the son of a multi millionaire and future heir to a massive energy company, she doesn't really stand out in the big city Paris. But then Robert catches her trying to steal from him. No longer able to stand the pressure from his father and his company, Robert offers her a deal.

warnings: bad father-son relationship

word count: 4,8k+

note: you don’t have to watch inception to understand this story.

"Okay, listen. The hotel has a couple of back doors for the staff. That way we can get you out of here unnoticed."

Robert just nodded silently as he packed some of his stuff into a suitcase. Then he put on a pair of black sunglasses and a grey cap that completely covered his dark hair.

YN couldn't help but laugh a bit at his outfit, but then quickly pulled herself together. She poked her head out of the room to make sure the hallway was empty. "Come on!" She hurried across the corridor and down the stairs to the ground floor with Robert in tow.

"Damn it, why can't we take the lift?" she heard his deep voice grumble behind her as he dragged the heavy suitcase along.

"Just so we're clear, if you're going to live in my two-room flat, you're going to have to do without any luxuries," she hissed in his direction.

She pulled out a key and unlocked a narrow door. The cool night air hit you as she opened the door. "Come on, let's go! We need to get to the Metro Station as soon as possible. Luckily, it's just around the corner."

Robert looked at her in disgust.

"We’re going to take the underground? Don't you have a car?"

"No, I don’t have one and now come with me or you'll be sleeping under a bridge tonight."

Roberts looked at her with a horrified expression on his face, and finally they hurried through the narrow, poorly lit side streets together.

It occurred to her that it was completely crazy to trust Fischer, since she didn't know him at all and had only met him half an hour ago. But she had got herself into this situation and there was no going back.

When they finally arrived at the Metro station, she glanced around to make sure no one was following them.

"The next train leaves in five minutes..." She exhaled exhaustedly and ran the sleeve of her jacket over her forehead.

There was comparatively little going on this late in the evening, but what frightened her a little was a greasy old man who kept staring at her. Without realising it, she moved a little closer to Robert, who put a protective hand on her shoulder. He must have looked pretty scary in his black coat, dark sunglasses and cap, because the old man looked away immediately.

She was incredibly grateful when the train finally arrived, the doors squeaked open and she quickly squeezed in with Robert and his suitcase.

She sat down on one of the old and a bit dirty looking seats and Fischer sat down next to her, wrinkling his nose and trying to avoid touching the seat. YN guessed that this was probably the first time in his life that he had used public transport, because super-rich little Robbie must have got his first chauffeur-driven Rolls-Royce for his 18th birthday.

They sat there for a while, looking out of the windows into the darkness.

"It's crazy what we're doing here," she finally broke the silence.

"Yes, it is," Robert confirmed.

"If someone had told me this story... I wouldn't believe it." She began to laugh, finally eliciting a small smile from my male companion. It was a shame that the dark sunglasses and cap covered half his face. He must have looked so handsome underneath. She quickly pushed the thought aside and braced her feet against the seats in front of them.

"What happened to your shirt?" She pointed at the huge brown stain.

"Nothing. Just probably the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to me," Fischer replied, lost in thought.

"Please tell me," she begged him.

Robert sighed slightly annoyed. "The secretary of my potential new client obviously can't serve coffee and spilled it all over me.

YN looked at him in confusion. "But it's not your fault. If this is the most embarrassing thing you've ever experienced, then you're really lucky. I'd rather not tell you about my school days."

"I was home schooled," Robert replied seriously.

"That explains a lot," she said as the underground came to a screeching halt. "Come on, get up. We have to get off."

***

She saw Robert frowning beside her as he looked up at the dark building, which looked more like a large grey box with windows than a house. He was dragging his suitcase behind him with one hand, making a lot of noise in the stairwell.

"Shh, are you crazy?" she whispered to him, putting a finger to her lips. "The neighbours are very noise-sensitive. Madame Dubois stands outside my door and complains if I even cough at night," she whispered in his direction. She tried to help him with the heavy suitcase and carry it up the stairs as quietly as possible.

Finally, relieved, she pushed open the door to her flat. "Come in."

He looked around the flat curiously.

"I know, I know, you're probably used to different and more luxurious things ... But…"

"It's...small... but it's nice here. I like it." Robert interrupted her.

She raised an eyebrow in surprise. She had expected anything, but not such a reaction. But he was probably so desperate in his situation that he was happy with anything.

YN led him into the living room and pointed to the sofa. "You can sleep here, I'll get you some blankets and pillows. Make yourself comfortable. Also..." she laughed briefly. "You can take off your disguise now."

She quickly drew the curtains so that no one outside could see who she was hiding in her flat.

"I need a shower first," Robert said, opening his suitcase and pulling out some clean clothes, all of which looked more expensive than YN's entire flat.

"Straight ahead, second door on the right, there's the bathroom," she told him. He thanked her and disappeared.

"There are clean towels in the cupboard under the sink," she called after him, sitting down on the sofa with a sigh. She hoped desperately that the whole thing wouldn't end in a total disaster and that Fischer would just stay with her for a few days unnoticed before disappearing again.

As the minutes passed, YN finally got up suspiciously and knocked on the bathroom door. "Are you okay? Or did you climb out the window?"

"No, I'm still here," his muffled voice came back.

"My God, you take twice as long a shower as I do. I still have to pay my water bill this month, so please don't overdo it".

"How nice that you have a millionaire's son who can pay for it," Robert shouted. YN did her best to hold back her laughter.

Finally the door opened and Robert stepped out. His hair was still a little damp, he was wearing a white shirt and wide pajama pants, only the smell that filled the room confused her a little.

"Wait, did you use my shower gel and shampoo?" she looked at him questioningly.

"Yes, I forgot mine. Now I smell like a woman. When you go shopping in the next few days, please bring me a men's shampoo. I'll give you the money for it but please not the green one they sell, it smells like an old shoe."

"Will do it", YN looked at him with amusement. He was so unbelievably spoilt and vain, but somehow still likeable.

Yawning, he sat down beside her. "You're sitting on my bed," he looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"I'm sitting on my couch," YN replied seriously.

"Just kidding." Robert laughed and patted her lightly on the shoulder.

Wordlessly, she threw an open magazine into his lap.

"What's that?" he asked, confused. "Please don't tell me you read these tabloids. It's all rubbish in there."

"But it was right that you were staying at the Ritz Hotel. They wrote about that yesterday," she told him.

He picked up the magazine and started to read the article.

Scandal around the Fischer family - multimillionaire on his deathbed, son on a spending spree!

A drama straight out of a Hollywood film is currently happening in a hospital room in Sydney: Maurice Fischer, the 64-year-old king of the energy industry and CEO of the Fischer Morrow mega-empire, is fighting for his life on his deathbed, while his 32-year-old son Robert, who grew up in luxury, is waiting impatiently for him to die - just so he can grab the family inheritance!

Growing up wealthy, Robert Fischer has never worked a day in his life. Instead of supporting his father in the most difficult and likely final weeks of his life, the young Fischer seems to have his priorities elsewhere. Rumour has it that he is currently enjoying a luxury holiday in Paris, - all at his dying father's expense!

Maurice Fischer had hoped his son would take over the family empire, but with Robert's laziness, that is now in doubt. The world is watching this drama of power and money with bated breath. Will Fischer Jr. inherit his father's legacy and run the empire, or will he simply sell it and continue to live in luxury at his father's expense even after his death? It remains exciting!

Below the article was a large photo of Robert in an elegant black suit and tie. He had his arm around the shoulder of an older man with a moustache and grey hair, who was also wearing a suit. They both were laughing, admittedly a bit contrived, into the camera.

Robert lowered the magazine with a sigh. "You don't really believe what they write, do you?"

Wordlessly, she took it from his hand. "Then why aren't you with him if he's so ill?"

"It's been going on for months. I wanted to visit him in hospital so often, but he didn’t want to see me most of the time. Besides, I'm not lazy and I don’t live at his expense. I have a university degree and I'm an external representative for the company. I’m a grown man and I earn my own money. The press think I’m a little spoiled baby and write one false article after another."

YN rubbed her chin thoughtfully. She was starting to understand that Robert was trying to hide in front of his father and the press for a few days. Even if there were certainly other options than staying with a woman he had just met.

"I'm very sorry for you, Robert," she said quietly and stood up slowly. "Good night, sleep well."

"Thank you, you too," Robert replied tiredly, lay down and pulled the soft blanket up to his neck.

She gave him one last look before turning and disappearing into her room. The fear she had earlier, that Robert might be a serial killer, had completely disappeared. He just seemed like a very stressed young man, under enormous pressure from his father and the public. You could almost feel sorry for him, despite all the money.

***

Robert opened his tired eyes and yawned softly. The sun shone through the curtains onto the beige carpet, drawing a bright line across it. He sat up slowly and looked at the clock beside him. It was half past seven, Saturday the 16th of May. His throat was incredibly dry. Groaning, he got up and walked barefoot into the kitchen, where he could hear soft sounds. Was YN awake?

Curious, he pushed open the door and jumped back, startled. There stood a woman about his father's age, staring at him confusedly as she placed apples and bananas on the kitchen table. She looked at him from head to toe, which made Robert feel very uncomfortable as his white shirt was quite see-through and his hair looked quite messy.

"Excusez-moi, monsieur?", she said, looking at him questioningly.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Robert finally asked.

The woman put down a plastic bag and came towards him, smiling. "I'm YN's mother. I go to the market every Saturday morning and bring her fresh fruit because it's a bit cheaper than in the supermarket," she explained to him, Robert having trouble understanding her with her strong French accent. "And you are..." she continued to look at him and then smiled a little more. "YN didn't tell me she had a boyfriend."

"Well... that... I..," Robert couldn't get out a single sentence.

"I understand. She doesn't make a fuss about it. But I have to admit she had no reason not to tell me about you," she winked at him with a laugh, "but she's never had an Englishman before".

Robert forced a smile, but felt his cheeks blush.

"Australian," he corrected her, "I... I'm going to the bathroom, ma'am."

As he closed the kitchen door behind him, he put his hands over his face. YN, who had just got up and walked past him, looked at him questioningly. "What's going on?"

"Shh!" he hissed at her. "Your mum saw me. She thinks I'm your new boyfriend."

She looked at him with her mouth open. "Are you completely braindead?"

"I just walked in, I couldn't have known that your mother would turn up on a Saturday morning. You could have at least warned me".

YN remained silent. "Go to the bathroom, I'll talk to her".

Without another word, she went into the kitchen and closed the door immediately. Instead of going to the bathroom as she had told him to, he stayed in the hallway and listened. Robert's French wasn't good enough to understand every word, but he picked up a few sentences.

"Is it something serious between you and him?" YN's mother asked.

"I don't think so," YN said seriously.

"Are you sure? It looks different to me," said the mother. Robert smiled a little. "He's so handsome, YN," she said. "My God, why don't you take the chance?"

Her daughter remained silent. "We are so different. He's so handsome and extroverted that he attracts all the attention. I'm the invisible one, nobody notices me.

Robert didn't understand what else they were saying except for YN‘s mother telling her daughter: "He looks so familiar, like I've seen him somewhere before."

Robert bit his lip, turned and pushed open the bathroom door. Did she suspect something?

***

Fortunately, the next few days passed without incident. Robert spent his time in YN's flat, usually relaxing in front of the television, reading the books on the shelf, looking after the cat he'd quickly grown to love, or, when YN returned from work at the hotel on Monday, cooking a fresh meal for them both.

She was amazed that he could cook so well, because she had assumed that Robert had had a housekeeper since he was a child. But Robert explained that it was his passion and that he had always done it himself.

He had turned his mobile phone off for the last few days, which meant he hadn't answered a single call from the company or his father since Friday night. He was pretty sure it would explode as soon as he turned it back on. But Robert was enjoying the silence.

YN somehow liked living with Robert. She had been alone for years and every time she came home in the evening she found a dark, empty flat. With Robert it was different. She felt that he really waited for her to tell him about her day and he always listened attentively. She really began to trust him and felt more and more attracted to him, although she would never admit it. He had also agreed to pay for the food, electricity and water she used, and even a little more, so that YN didn't have to worry about her bills this month.

When she came home from work on Wednesday evening, she pulled the latest issue of the gossip magazine out of her bag and handed it to Robert.

He quickly leafed through it until he found the article.

The Fischer scandal continues - millionaire's son suddenly vanishes without a trace

The drama surrounding the Fischer family reaches a new climax when Robert Fischer, heir to the millionaire empire, suddenly disappears. His seriously ill father, Maurice Fischer, is desperate to find his son.

Robert Fischer was last seen in Paris on Friday 15th May and has since vanished from the face of the earth. Speculations about his whereabouts are spreading like wildfire - has he gone into hiding to avoid responsibility and to live a life beyond parental control?

The Fischer family is in shock as the search for their missing son intensifies. As the world waits for answers, the suspense and mystery surrounding Robert Fischer's sudden disappearance grows. Will he be found before it's too late and his father dies, or will he remain in the dark forever?

Robert shook his head in disbelief. "Every time I think the articles can't get any weirder, I'm proven wrong."

"Do you really think they‘re looking for you?" YN wanted to know.

"I'm pretty sure they do. My father is probably worried that something has happened to me. And no, not because I'm important to him as a person and he's worried about my wellbeing, like a normal father would be. It's because he's afraid of not having an heir and having to hand over his company to a stranger when he dies.

YN was silent and reached for Robert's hand. She felt so incredibly sorry for him. It seemed he had never been truly loved.

Just in this moment the phone rang. Sighing, she got up and picked up the phone. "Bonsoir, Maman…Oui… oui…"

YN raised an eyebrow and turned up the volume on the phone. Robert listened carefully, although once again he couldn’t understand everything they said.

"No, we can't do that, we can't do that."

"But why not? He's your friend and we want to meet him too," his mother's voice came through the loudspeaker.

"I told you it's nothing serious," YN replied stubbornly.

"I saw the light in your eyes when you told me about him. It is serious, admit it."

Sighing, YN touched her forehead. "Maman, I..."

"Look, I've already told the others and they're looking forward to meeting him. There's nothing wrong with you bringing your new boyfriend to a family gathering. Or is there something wrong with him?"

The last sentence sent a shiver down Robert's spine.

"No, everything's fine. We'll be there tomorrow evening." YN hung up and looked at Robert a little desperately.

"We're coming? Are you crazy?" Robert looked at her angrily.

"What else could I do? My whole family thinks I have a new boyfriend, how embarrassing is that? And I have a feeling my mother will be sceptical if we don't come." Lost in thought, she chewed her lower lip. "Look, we'll go to this family party, pretend we're lovers, then leave unnoticed and pretend we've broken up again. My family lives under a rock and doesn't read any tabloids".

Robert rolled his eyes. "Good plan."

"Is there anything else left for us?" she wanted to know.

"No," he said. "I just don't want the whole thing to end in chaos."

Hey, thank you for reading!

I was thinking about writing the ending in chapter 3, like his father finds out that he‘s with the reader and the press will photograph them together and write false articles about an affair…

[cillsworld]

Cillian Murphy✧₊⁺

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Pretty pretty man⋆⭒˚.⋆𝜗𝜚

[mydear-corinthian]

Rivals || Jonathan Crane x reader

Synopsis: You and Crane are both fighting for the asylum's new head of the psychologist department. Pairing: Jonathan Crane x reader / Jonathan Crane x psych! reader / Scarecrow x reader Warnings: SMUT +18, unprotected sex, p in v, rivalry Notes: RUSHED, there will be lots of grammatical errors. Click here to see the MAIN MASTERLIST Click here to see the CILLIAN MURPHY MASTERLIST

Today is the important day of your career. The head medical chief will now announce who will be the head of the psychology department.

You were working for nearly 5 years in Gotham's asylum, Arkham Asylum. You've seen many patients; juveniles, sadists, serial killers, and other more. It wasn't easy at first but slowly, you got the hang of it, being able to adjust the unusual environment of the hospital.

You had barely any interaction with anyone else when you were an intern except for Jonathan Crane. He was your age, a fellow psychologist committed to helping Arkham Asylum's needy patients. Your relationship with Crane developed with shared experiences and shared loyalty, creating a firm connection during the psychological obstacles of the asylum.

The pressure between you and Crane was intense and serious considering there were just the two of you. You will both keep track of the number of patients you see each day, the number of consultations and interviews you do, and of course, the journey toward becoming the department head of psychology.

Now, the both of you standing in front of the head chief resident, waiting for him to announce the result.

Even though you appeared calm and collected on the outside, there was a stream of anxiousness running through you. Jonathan Crane was just as calm as you were, but in opposite to you, he was so confident and at relaxed that there was no trace of nervousness.

"Doctor Crane, Doctor (Y/n), I want to say that the both of you did a wonderful job here as Arkham's psychology resident. I saw both of your performance since your first day and I can see the massive progress that you guys done for the past 5 years," the head chief resident said, lowering down the papers that contained both of your performances and records.

"Thank you, chief." a smile was plastered on your face as you thanked the chief resident.

"You both did an excellent job. I hereby congratulate our new chief..," the chief resident slowly announced, making your heart flutter, a wave of anxiety rushed over your spine.

"Doctor Jonathan Crane,"

Your eyes widened. You looked at your workmate, his eyes glowing as he shook the hands of the chief resident, thanking him.

You were left cashing by the shock that went through you like a voltage, and your hopes were buried in a deep sense of disappointment. A dream set back in the face of unexpected defeat, the pain of longing for this desired position, grown throughout your time at Arkham, suddenly seemed to resonate down the corridors of your mind.

Jealousy was starting to spin all over you as you shook Crane's delicate hand, muttering a 'congratulations'. You left the office after, giving the both of them privacy as they started a new conversation about Crane's new responsibilities and duties to the hospital.

Your gloomy walk echoed through the asylum's corridors. You immediately walked to your office and harshly opened and closed the door.

"What the fuck!" you yelled loudly in frustration Your palms curled up together like a ball. "What the fuck do you mean that Jonathan got the position and not me?" slapping your wooden table harshly as you threw a big tantrum.

"Fuck you, Jonathan!"

Good thing that your office was soundproof so all the staffs and patients passing by won't hear a single sound of you bursting into frustration.

Your tantrum stopped when you heard a knock on your office's door. Assuming it was the head chief resident, you fixed your hair and your outside, composing yourself.

You opened the door with a smile but it was gone after you see who it was-- Jonathan Crane.

"What are you doing here, Crane?" you spitted, your arms folding each other on your chest.

"May I come in?" he asked.

"Fine," you groaned in annoyance, opening the door widely so he can enter your lightly-dimmed office.

He scanned your office, looking at the picture frames on the hanged shelf, books that were neatly stored beside your frames, and your Ph.D and awards that hanged over the white walls of the office.

"Now, what do you want, Crane?" you asked again, sitting in front of the wooden table, both arms still locked in your chest together, your eyes piercing through his.

"I just want to congratulate you for having the chance to compete for the position," he teased, a small grin plastered on his soft cheeks.

"Oh fuck off, Jonathan. Yeah, I got it, you got the position," you rolled your eyes, getting angry and annoyed every time Crane breathes.

"Won't you congratulate me, (Y/n)?" he asked, moving closer and closer to you, until your faces were only centimetres apart.

"Fuck no! Just go and flex your position to somebody else because I don't care about you,"

Your response made him chuckle. He took a deep breath as he adjusted his clear eyeglasses. "Mhm, I don't think so. You care about me. You have feelings for me, don't you?"

Your eyes grew wide at what he said. Was he aware that you like him? He's your rival, and you were beginning to feel something for him. He's a perfect man - well for you. He's good looking, smart, and works with you but you kept it as a secret, ashamed that you're in love with someone you compete with. His words caused you blushing leaving you speechless.

"I - What? Funny, Jonathan. I don't even like yo-"

"Not according to your journal here," he cut you off, he took a small brown notebook out of the pocket of his blazer, showing it you.

Then you realized what it was: it's your missing journal book. You remembered leaving it at your desk a week ago but after that, it just suddenly disappeared like that. You kept on finding it, you searched everywhere, your apartment, your bag, your office, your cabinets: none.

"Where'd you get that! Give it back!" you gasped, attempting to grab it from his hand but he sways his arm back further away.

"God look at this. You were imagining stuffs like this huh? Lusty images and scenarios of me," he teased, opening the journal and scanned the pages.

"Fuck you, Jonathan," you cursed.

"If that's what you want," he said before he crashed his lips to yours. Tasting every spot in your lips. You gasped at the sudden action but it was true, you fantasized about this.

You returned the passionate kiss, wrapping your arms over his neck and then his now messy hair, pushing your lips deeper to him.

His tongue traveled deeper into your tempting mouth, the passionate kiss becoming more messier and messier. His hand held tightly to your delicate body, pulling you closer him. Your lips softly moaned, each one begging for the kiss to get even hotter and more intense. You could feel the heat building as you both gave in to the burning desire that was dominating over. 

Crane's lips started to trail down on your neck, kissing the sweet and sensitive spots all over, earning a loud moan from you.

"You know, I fantasized about this too," he confessed, sucking your sweet spot that will likely leave a mark. Your back arched, your cunt getting more and more wet. "It's just that I don't write about it."

"Oh god, Jonathan," you moaned. His hands found your tight long sleeve shirt, unbuttoning it one by one. Crane tossed your shirt on the floor, continuing kissing you.

"Look at you. So fucking sexy," he said, your breasts now exposed after he unhook your bra only using two of his fingers.

Crane's trousers stretched out revealing his bulge and how he was hard already. In not much time at all, you unfastened his belt and took off his underwear, causing his hard cock to spring out, pre-cum leaking all over it.

"See what you did to me?"

"I need you, Jonathan," you begged, showing how wet you were when you removed your trousers. Your black panties were now stained with wetness.

He removed your panties with his soft hands before aligning his cock into your hole. "So wet for me, huh?" his tip teasing your wet and impatient hole as you moaned softly.

"Please.." you begged, getting more and more impatient.

He slowly entered you, earning a low grunt from him. Stretching your small hole as you took him.

"You're so tight, fuck," he cursed, starting his pace slow. His cock pushing in and out of your needy cunt, letting you a loud moan.

"Is this what you imagine me doing to you? Fucking you? Taking my cock?" he asked, his hands gripped your hips harshly as his pace fastened. A small dash of sweat was starting to form on his forehead as he grunt out loud from the sensation.

"Yes - oh god, Jonathan!" moaning, your eyes shut as you rolled your head back, taking him deeper and deeper. Allowing him to penetrate all the sensitive spots down there.

All you experienced was nothing but pleasure. You felt a rush feeling of thrill wash over you, seeing only sparkles. A huge mess was made as your skin flapped loudly, the table moved around, and some of your materials items fell off the table.

"Look at me while I'm fucking you, sweetheart." Crane hissed, harshly gripping your jaw to make you look at him.

His pace was immeasurable. The sound of his and your skin slapping together echoed inside the room as you let out a series of pornographic moans.

"Good thing your office is soundproofed," he laughed. "You don't want them to hear you moan while I fuck you, huh?"

Crane's right hand gripped your thighs, giving him support as he fucked you harshly.

In a short while, you felt your orgasm starting to form. Your legs trembling as you locked his back with it, allowing him to penetrate deeper at your sensitive spots.

His icy-like eyes met yours, mesmerizing him. His eyes. His mouth. His jaw line. Everything, admiring him.

"Jo - Jonathan, I'm close.." you breath shaking, feeling your orgasm coming near and nearer.

"Yeah? Come then, cum on my cock, love," his pace remained fast. His grunts were getting louder and louder.

After a few more thrusts, your orgasm came and so did his, staining the inside of walls with his seed as he came inside. The both of you continuously let out a few grunts and moans while reaching your high.

He didn't pulled out until every drop of his cum pours inside of you. The both of you pant hard, your cunt clenching on his hard cock.

"I like you, Jonathan," you confessed.

"Oh sweetheart, you belong to me," he said, pulling out slowly before he kissed you again but this time he did it passionately.

"I'm still mad at you for getting my desired position," you admitted, glaring at his sweet features as he chuckled with your response.

"Well, I can request the chief to make 2 psychologist the heads of our department," he remarked. "But before that, let me.. enjoy what belongs to me."

[lunarubra]

Sooo... I wanted to wait to post it next week, but I feel it's going to be even crazier and busier at work in the coming days. As I mentioned in a previous post, the next few months are going to be really hectic for me, so updates could be even more delayed. But I am not abandoning my babies, don't worry. So here we are. I hope you enjoy it. If you can, leave a comment letting me know what you think. It's the first time I've written smut for a straight couple, so I am a little worried of how this is gonna feel. Thanks a ton to @cillmequick and @emotionalcadaver for beta-reading this chapter and being the best mutuals <3

Pairing: Cillian x OC (Jiyan Fabris)

Summary: The morning after, with a surprise visit, and maybe finally, those two idiots are going to talk about what they are feeling. It took them only 25k+ words, sooo. Yeah, I'm aware that as the writer, I should be in control of what they do, but spoiler alert: I am not. They are in control.

Warning: English not my First Language, Mention of Panic Attack, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Star Wars Spoilers.

Words: 5439

Previous ◼︎ Next | Masterlist

Part 7 - Swell of Renewal

The first light of dawn gently illuminated Cillian's eyes, rousing him from sleep. Reluctant to open them fully, he savoured the comforting sensation of that fleeting moment between slumber and wakefulness. Gradually, he became aware of the sensations enveloping him. He was laying on his side, with a warm body pressed against his chest, nestled between him and the couch's backrest. His face was buried in soft hair that carried the scent of sea and spices. Before fully registering his surroundings, he snuggled closer, relishing the embrace.

A sudden noise from the front door jolted Cillian awake, causing him to open his eyes and discover Jiyan nestled against his chest. It took a moment for him to recall why he was on the couch and why Jiyan was there beside him. He admired her peaceful form for a few seconds, noting the deepness of her sleep, likely a result of the exhaustion from the previous night. Another knock echoed at the front door, diverting Cillian's attention from the woman beside him, while she remained completely oblivious to the noises, undisturbed and lost in her tranquil slumber.

With gentle care, Cillian untangled himself from their embrace, draping a blanket over Jiyan as he had done the night before, before falling asleep. Since her panic attack and her subsequent openness about what had transpired, neither had questioned the shift in their relationship—they naturally gravitated towards holding and comforting each other. Falling asleep together seemed like the right next step after the emotionally draining evening they had experienced; it was a simple and comforting way to support each other. Even considering leaving Jiyan alone after such a night was unimaginable to him.

Yawning and stretching his arms above his head, he shuffled to the door, muttering under his breath about whoever had the audacity to disturb so early in the morning.

Peering through the door's peephole, he immediately recognized his sister's figure, and a shock of cold realisation shot through him, fully waking him up. Damn, he had completely forgotten about their plans for this morning.

As he opened the door, attempting to offer an apology, his sister launched into a scolding tirade, oblivious to his efforts to quiet her down. The living room wasn’t far, and even though Jiyan seemed to be a deep sleeper, he doubted she would stay asleep for long with his sister's loud reprimands.

"You were still asleep?! Cillian, I told you we needed to buy Sile’s present this morning. With me covering for a colleague this week, I'm swamped, and we agreed to do it today!"

"Orla, morning… I know, I'm sorry, very. I'll find Sile's present on my own later, just please lower your voice," Cillian pleaded.

"Lower my voice?! This is the third time you've postponed it. Her birthday is next week! You were busy with work the past few weeks, but now what? You just forgot? And why do you look so tired? Were you out yesterday night—" Orla paused, her gaze shifting past him.

 Turning around, Cillian saw Jiyan standing there, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants that were clearly too big for her, giving his sister ammo about a crazy night spent the night before, where she spent the night here and now she was wearing his clothes. 

Jiyan appeared still a bit sleepy and somewhat taken aback to find someone else in the house. "Um, hi, sorry, I heard voices and—" Jiyan trailed off, her cheeks flushing with a hint of concern about the situation she had walked into.

"Really, Cilian? Really?" Orla interrupted, looking annoyed with her brother.

"Orla, it's not..." Cilian began, then he shook his head, hoping to dispel any misunderstanding that he had spent the night drinking and picking up random women at the pub. 

He turned to Jiyan, hoping to clarify everything; this was not the morning he had imagined.

"Jiyan, this is my sister, Orla. I forgot we had to buy a present for our youngest sister this morning, and she's giving me an earful. Orla, this is Jiyan, my... This is Jiyan," he concluded a bit awkwardly, turning back to his sister.

"Jiyan?" Orla repeated, making the connection, and sounding placated for the moment, with a hint of sisterly curiosity. "Oh... I'm sorry, I must seem like a crazy sister, but this one," she gestured towards Cillian, "is the most unorganised person I've ever met. I'm Orla, nice to meet you," she said, extending her hand to Jiyan.

"Nice to meet you too," Jiyan replied, still feeling a bit uncertain about the situation. "I can go if you need to go out, it's really no problem-"

"No!" Cilian exclaimed a bit too forcefully, cutting her off before his sister could intervene and convince Jiyan to leave. "Orla was just leaving. I'll buy something later this week, and everything will be alright, right Orla?" he asked, looking at his sister.

Orla glanced between them a couple of times, as if watching a ping pong match, before finally settling her gaze on her brother's determined expression, realising there was no way she could win this battle and following their planned morning.

"Sure," she confirmed, though with a hint of warning. "But if you forget like Mum's birthday last year-"

"It was two years ago!" he defended himself.

"I don't care," she told him firmly. "I have to go now. Jiyan, it was a pleasure to finally put a face to your name. Cillian couldn’t stop talking about you during Paddy's -"

"Yes!" Cillian said, raising his voice, cutting off his sister to comment further. "Orla, I think it’s time. You really should go," he interjected, gently nudging his sister towards the door and subtly hinting for her to leave, hoping to salvage some of the dignity he had left.

His sister finally composed herself and exited, bidding her goodbyes to Jiyan, but not without one last firm reminder to her brother.

After closing the door behind his departing sister and exhaling a held breath, Cillian turned back to Jiyan, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief.

"Sorry about that," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "My sister can be a bit... persistent. I completely forgot that we had to meet this morning."

Jiyan glanced at the floor, uncertainty clouding her expression. After all that had been said the previous night, she was still shocked by what had transpired and perhaps a little ashamed of her own reactions. "I can really go, if you-"

"I don’t want you to go," he said, cutting her off.

They stood in the hallway entrance, bathed in natural sunlight from the living room, casting a deep ambiance around them. As he looked at Jiyan, he soon forgot about his sister's impromptu visit. The tension he had felt multiple times in the past months was coming alive that morning, making his hair on both his arms feel energised, as if pure electric energy was coursing through him.

"Cillian… I…" Jiyan started to say.

"Can I say something?" he interjected, his voice trembling a little with emotion, starting to feel his heart beating faster. "I know it's only been a couple of months since we met, but the more time I spend with you, Jiyan, the more connected I feel. It's like I've known you for decades, like I can understand what you're feeling and thinking.

He paused briefly before continuing, his words pouring out in a rush. "Yesterday night... Yesterday night, it was draining and exhausting for you, and I understand if you feel like you've exposed yourself to more hurt, or if you think you've shown a vulnerable side of yourself. But I see you, Jiyan. I think I really see someone for the first time, and what I see is beautiful. You have nothing to apologise for or feel ashamed of that happened yesterday. Nothing."

For a long moment, she just looked at him. Looked at that sensitive, generous, humble, handsome man who had offered refuge to her last night, after one of the worst panic attacks she had ever experienced. Who has listened and supported her, making her feel for the first time not alone in what she was going through. She could see in him someone with whom she didn’t have to hide - not her feelings, not her emotions, not her past or insecurities.

"I think... I think I also see you," she said, walking closer to him until their chests were almost touching, locking her gaze with his deep blue eyes that reminded her so much of the sea.

As her heartbeat quickened, but not like the night before, she didn't feel panic this time; she felt alive, a tingling sensation coursing through every part of her body.

Cillian didn't respond with words. Instead, he gently cupped her face with one hand, his eyes speaking volumes, like she could read the myriad shades of the ocean within them. His breathing changed too, influenced by their proximity and her presence.

She wasn't sure who moved first or who initiated the first contact. All she knew was that the first touch felt like finally coming home again. Her hand found its way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, craving to deepen the connection and feel more of him. Their initial tentative kiss quickly turned passionate, almost desperate, as if they feared the other would vanish in the next moment.

His hands found their place on her waist, slipping under her hoodie and eliciting a groan from deep within his chest as he felt her warm skin, his thumbs tracing circles on her taut abdomen.

She lightly nibbled on his lower lip, drawing another deep groan from him, before resting her forehead against his, breathing him in, both of them trying to catch their breath.

"Ok, wow," she said, opening her eyes again and gazing into his.

"Yeah," he agreed, his arms holding her close to him, not wanting to let her go. She held his cheek, breathing him in, closing her eyes and relaxing into their embrace. If their first kiss had quickly turned passionate, the second time their lips met, she wanted to convey all the different feelings she had, feeling connected to him, letting herself go, and trusting him to accept her.

She let out a high-pitched moan when he responded, exploring her mouth with his tongue, wanting her to feel as much as he was feeling in that moment, wanting to deepen it and at the same time just enjoy their exchange that made him feel like he was walking on the moon.

She also wanted to feel more of him, holding one of her hands on his heart, feeling his chest expand and his heart beating frantically. She then started kissing his jaw and snuggled into his neck, softly biting the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

"Jiyan," he warned, closing his eyes to catch his breath again and gain some sort of control over his body.

She made an innocuous sound, then repeated her action, eliciting another deep groan from him. He moved his arm from under the hoodie she was wearing to cup her cheeks.

"You are a tease," he said softly, planting a soft peck on her lips again.

“Who says I am teasing?” she retorted, joy bubbling up from her chest as her hands ran through his hair.

“Come on, you need some food in you after yesterday, before we do anything that requires more effort.”

“Ah, so it’s an effort for you, Murphy?” she teased him, “Didn’t think you were this old,” she said, sliding her fingers into his as she followed him to the kitchen, settling on one of the kitchen stools.

He ignored her last comment with a smile, opening the fridge and inspecting its sad remains.

“I have some toast, cheese, and eggs, but I know you don’t eat those. There’s a lemon and a very questionable package of mushrooms.”

"Urgh," she made a disappointed moan.

“I know, sorry. I just got back yesterday and haven’t had a chance to go to the big shop yet.”

“Do you have some canned chickpeas? Or canned beans?” she asked.

“Maybe, I can check the pantry.”

After she gathered some canned chickpeas and quickly made some hummus to eat with toast, he prepared some scrambled eggs with toast and cheese.

“I should really bring you a package of real tea here and teach you how to make chai,” she said as they sat facing each other, their knees touching, and his left hand resting on her thigh. Since the night before, where he had held and comforted her, it was like both of them couldn't stop touching each other, almost like they always needed some kind of physical connection.

“Please feel free to bring as much chai as you want and teach me that wizardry that you Kurds call tea. You knew I would become a complete addict to that.”

“Yup, that's our evil plan for Kurdistan liberation, making white people fall in love with our chai so they would finally stop persecuting us.”

“See, I always knew you had a second motive,” he joked.

After finishing the last of her hummus on toast, a real champion’s breakfast, she looked at him with a more serious expression.

"After finishing the last of her hummus on toast, a real champion’s breakfast, she looked at him with a more serious expression.

"I know you said you didn’t want me to apologise, so I won’t," she said, resting her hand over his on her leg. "But thank you for taking care of me yesterday, for your patience, and for listening to me. I don’t think I've ever told anyone all of that before."

"I will always want to listen to you and be there for you, I think," he said sincerely. "I know we both said we weren’t looking for something beyond friendship, Jiyan, but I don’t think..."

He paused, gathering his thoughts. "During the past few weeks, while I was working in Galway, I tried to detach myself from you and think about it objectively. I wanted to see if it was just like my other past relationships, where I could lose myself in work and disappear. And I could, partly. I think acting will always be liberating for me because I can stop being myself for some time. But when I stopped and was back to being Cillian, I wanted to share it all with you. I’m not sure how it will all go, but I want to try to have this deep connection that I feel with you, Jiyan. Because for the first time, I feel I can be more than just a good actor, a decent brother, or someone who makes my family proud."

She didn't say anything for a couple of seconds, just staring at their interlined fingers, playing with them.

"During these weeks, when you weren’t here, I also had time to think. I think that’s also why yesterday I had that reaction. Newroz was the first time where I talked again about Samyah, or I felt she was there, back with me, celebrating. It’s like I pushed all away and now I am feeling all of it together. When you were away, I understood how much more difficult it was, feeling all of that without you… here. I am also not sure how it will be, I am not sure how much I am able to give to you right now. You saw yesterday how easily I can break down…” she said, taking a breath and looking back at him. “But I also would love to know what it really feels like, to share all of this with you."

“You are not the only one that is not sure how much I am able to give. Sometimes when I am so deep into my work, I feel like a shadow of myself. Even if I am there, the people around me feel like I am a ghost of the man I am, and maybe the worst is that I love losing myself so deep into a role. It’s the best feeling, even if I feel like shit at the end of the process,” he finished, trying to joke about it, intertwining his fingers with hers, wanting to feel her closer.

“What a pair we make, eh?” she smiled.

He chuckled at that, finishing his last bite of eggs. “Do you have plans today?” he asked, hoping to not get separated too soon.

“I don’t think I want to do anything. Every time I have one of those breakdowns, I feel exhausted the next couple of days. I just want to lay down and maybe watch something.”

“One of those?” he asked worriedly.

“They started a couple of months after Samyah’s passing. Moving here helped. I just had something similar the day I came back from the hospital, after what happened at the pub.”

He stroked her arm gently, not knowing how to help or what he could say. She was confronting her demons with an acceptance that he did not possess, almost like it was natural that things like this were happening and after those few days life would go on, with Jiyan being back to her solar and sassy self. On one side, he was slightly feeling frustrated about her laid-back attitude; he knew that he would not have her grace to behave like that if something similar happened to him. On the other hand, he was really amazed by the woman in front of him, by her resilience and her strength.

“If you don’t want to be on your own, but if you want some company, we can go back on the sofa, choose some comfort movies, and just relax. Later we can order something if we feel hungry.”

“You sure you are okay about spending the day watching movies with me?”

“It would be just grant, Jiyan,” he said, grinning, getting up from the kitchen island and gathering their plates to put them in the dishwasher.

“Are we allowed to snack during these movies?” she asked hopefully, as if they hadn't just finished breakfast.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked back.

“Popcorn?” she asked eagerly. 

“I'll put them in the microwave. Go check if you can find some movies,” he suggested.

“Do you have Star Wars?” she called from the living room.

“Yup, check the shelves on the left,” he said loudly back, just after putting two bowls of popcorn in the microwave and looking for some jalapenos. Then he paused for a moment, thinking about what George Lucas might say, knowing stories about his character, knowing they were using his movies as comfort just after a panic attack. Well, if it worked for her, he would never say no to a Star Wars marathon.

It took him a couple of minutes to return to the living room, with Jiyan seated comfortably on one side of the sofa, wrapped in a fluffy blanket.

He passed her a bowl of popcorn as she pressed play, and “A New Hope” started. Sitting close to her, he started to enjoy the famous first scene of the saga, starting to understand why she found it comforting; it felt like being hugged by an old dear friend.

While Luke met Obi-Wan, Jiyan finished her bowl of popcorn, putting it on the floor. For a tiny person, she could pack away quite a bit of food. As she leaned back, before he could stop her, she took some popcorn from his still full bowl and then reacted with a shriek.

“What’s that?!”

“Popcorn,” he said back, ignoring her shock, hiding the bowl on his side of the couch, the furthest from Jiyan, worried what could happen to his guilty food treat. Hoping to refocus on the movie and avoid a topic that almost every friend or member of his family teased him for.

“No it’s not! Popcorn is crispy, salty, and addictive. What the fuck is that? It’s all soggy,” she whined, complaining.

He avoided her question until she started to tickle him on his side, making him squirm away.

“Jiyan!” he said, slightly annoyed, putting his bowl on the floor too, trying to avoid her tickling attack by grabbing both her wrists. As she tried to struggle away, Cillian pulled back, making her fall onto his chest, and him laying down on the couch.

“Are you finished?” he asked, raising one of his eyebrows.

“You are ticklish,” she answered, avoiding the question with a devious smile, like a cat that ate the canary.

“No,” he tried saying, keeping his face as serious as he could, but her smile only grew wider.

“You are,” she teased.

“Jiyan…” he warned.

“Tickling you is less than a deserved punishment for what you have done to the popcorn,” she defended.

“It’s my bowl,” he said exasperatedly.

“I don’t think even serial killers would dare to do whatever you have done to popcorn. Not even terrorists. Maybe cops, you would expect that from cops, or fascists…”

He interrupted her with a kiss, freeing one of her wrists and cupping her face. “Are you done?” he asked, his voice lowering a tone, smiling amusedly at her.

“You’re not gonna distract me from your crimes, Murphy,” she said, pouting, as he kissed back her pout.

“No?” he asked, this time smirking.

“You cannot bribe me, I’m incorruptible,” she said seriously, as she settled more comfortably into his embrace, starting to run her fingers through his hair. She loved how soft his hair was; it was so comforting.

“Sure, love,” he teased her, starting to kiss her jawline till he found the spot just under her lobe, sucking it and getting a moan from her that made his insides boil, feeling his pants getting tight.

He caressed her throat with his nose, continuing his exploration and being surrounded by her perfume. He could smell some of his body wash and another smell that he could only describe as Jiyan, it reminded him of the spices of chai and the salty air of the sea. He breathed deeply, feeling all his senses wake up and had to control himself, wanting to just turn around with her under him and kiss every centimetre of free skin possible.

Jiyan, who was starting to feel all putty in his hands, tried to get some sort of control back by grabbing his hair slightly to capture his lips, with her free hand sneaking under his t-shirt wanting to also feel his skin. She was welcomed with his smooth skin and the lines of his muscles clenching as she caressed them, gaining a deep groan vibrating from his chest that she swallowed before biting his lower lip.

He also slid his hand under his hoodie she was wearing, caressing her sides as his brain went blank when he noticed just now the absence of a t-shirt or the feel of a bra.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his breath laboured, as his hands were just under her breasts, wanting nothing more than to feel their weight. She arched herself into his hands, like a luxurious cat, nodding her head before brushing kisses along his neck.

He caressed slowly the side of her chest, consciously avoiding the most erogenous zones, making her press into his hands even more, wanting to guide him silently where she wanted him to be touched. He smirked at her attempt, running his thumbs close to where she needed them the most, never really touching them, feeling her trembling with desires but still teasing her. She was so responsive.

“Cillian…” she whined in his neck, grabbing his hair hard.

“Yes, love?” he asked, amused, enjoying playing this game.

“You know what…” she mumbled.

He chuckled, “I don’t know what you mean.”

Jiyan, annoyed and impatient with this man, got up sitting over his lap and in one move got rid of her hoodie, throwing it on the armchair next to them, leaving her topless in front of him. As Cillian's throat got dry and he was distracted by the view in front of him – her taut stomach and her round breasts with small dark areolas that were begging to be kissed – she used his distraction to push his shirt over his head, leaving his chest also bare in front of her.

“Are you done teasing?” she asked, her hands on his chest to balance over him.

“You are beautiful,” he said instead, not sure if he even heard her, his hands back on her, just under her ribs.

She bent and captured his lips, feeling the heat coming from him. His hands started to roam again, one holding her head and the other one cupping one breast, caressing her nipple, making her moan in their kiss. She felt his erection under her and moved her hips, starting a slow rhythm that made them both pant.

They lost themselves in the sensation of skin against skin, lips on lips, and fingers touching any part of skin they could reach.

As she started to rock faster, she started to feel the pressure and the heat inside her growing. When he moved his kisses to her neck and bit her, she moaned loud, feeling the electricity running in her body.

He slid his lips from her neck to the valley between her breasts, catching his breath slightly before he pressed his mouth to her nipples, sucking it slowly, gaining another deep moan from Jiyan. He used his teeth and tongue to explore, switching his attention from one breast to the other and Jiyan felt like her blood was burning, the pressure between her legs increasing.

She stopped her movements, making him look at her confused and worried, asking her if she was alright.

Instead she bent and captured his lips, the kiss became more heated. She then slid her hands in his sweatpants, breaking the kiss and asking silently if it was okay for him. At his eager nod, she got rid of his trousers with his help. As her hand ventured over his boxers, she lightly brushed against his erection, causing him to arch into her touch.

"Who's the tease now?" he rasped, his voice low and growling, as he eyed her with anticipation.

Instead of replying, she reached for him, pulling his underwear down to grasp his member, exploring him for the first time. Her touch was deliberate, moving slowly and firmly, savouring the weight of him and relishing in his laboured breaths and groans. She craved more.

As her thumb traced the pulsing vein on the side of his shaft, feeling his precum, his hands found her ass, gripping it firmly as he surrendered to the sensations she evoked. It didn't take much to push him to the brink.

"I want to feel you," he gasped, seizing her wrist to halt her movements. Looking into his glassy eyes, mirroring her own passion, she nodded.

Sitting up, she took his hand, guiding it to her sweatpants. Together, they shed her clothes, leaving her naked atop him.

"Are you clean?" she inquired, her hand caressing his member with a slow stroke.

"Yeah, are you?" he murmured, his voice dropping. "Do we need a condom?"

"I have an IUD, and I got tested in December when I donated blood on campus," she reassured him.

He nodded, cradling her face to kiss her fiercely once more. As they kissed languidly, catching their breath, her hands trailed down to his chest while his found her hips, aiding her in adjusting their positions.

Guiding him to her entrance, she began to sink onto him slowly, both of them moaning at the initial contact. She exhaled, trying to relax and accept his girth and length.

"Fuck… so tight," he groaned, closing his eyes as he felt her contracting. 

Feeling her stop, he opened his eyes back, trying to gather some control and staying as immobile as possible, "Are you okay?" he asked, his concern evident as his thumbs circled her hips, offering support.

"Yeah, it's been a while," she whispered, closing her eyes to focus on her gradual movements, starting moving slowly.

Supporting her with one hand, he found her folds with the other, feeling how wet she was and searching for her clit. Slowly, he circled it with his thumb, causing her to close her eyes, arch her back, and moan deeply as she slowly sank down. She let out a deep whine when his entire length rested inside her.

"Are you alright, love?" he asked, suppressing his own desires and focusing on her well-being.

"Yeah, it feels good," she said, breathing slowly. "I just need a moment."

She was incredibly tight and warm, enveloping him like a glove. He took a deep breath, restraining himself from moving and allowing her to adjust. He lay back down, enjoying the view of the gorgeous woman in front of him, holding her waist gently, he couldn’t stop touching that soft sunkissed skin.

As she began to feel more comfortable, she squeezed her walls experimentally, feeling him stiffen under her touch.

"Fuck, Jiyan!" he moaned deeply, closing his eyes and tightening his grip on her waist.

With slow movements, she adjusted her hips, searching for a good angle and relishing the sensation of him filling her up. As her movements became smoother, his tip brushed against a soft spot inside her, eliciting a deep moan from her, causing her to arch her back and lose her rhythm.

"Here?" he asked, using his other hand to guide her hips.

"Yes, don't stop," she said, feeling the pleasure intensifying and her walls pulsating.

Time seemed to slow for both of them as they rapidly approached their limits quickly, it had been sometime also for him. Cillian felt her walls spasm around him, signalling her impending release. His thumb went back to circle her clit as her hips stuttered and lost their rhythm. The tension inside him grew like a taut bow ready to be released.

"I'm so close," she gasped, her breathing laboured.

"I am too," he replied, withdrawing his fingers from her folds and gripping her hips tightly. Taking control of the rhythm, he thrust his hips upward, feeling her walls contracting around him. She reached for her breasts, pinching her nipples.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," he growled, captivated by the sight before him.

Without warning, he felt her orgasm approaching, the sensations spreading through her body and engulfing her in pleasure, eliciting deep moans. As she tightened around him, pulling him in and causing him to groan loudly. It didn't take long for him to follow suit, his body tensing as his release filled her insides. They both felt her spasms and the aftershocks of their orgasms.

They remained intertwined for several minutes, trying to catch their breath, their sweaty bodies pressed together. Exhausted, Jiyan leaned down while Cillian embraced her, gently caressing her back.

Pressing a tender kiss on her shoulder, he whispered in her ear, "Are you okay?"

She murmured a sleepy affirmation, planting kisses between his neck and shoulder.

"Do you want to stay here or go to bed?" he inquired.

"Bed," she mumbled, though she made no move to get up.

"Do you need help, love?" he asked, slightly amused.

Instead of answering, she kissed his neck and hugged him tightly, causing him to chuckle.

"Hmm," she mumbled, with a yawn.

Chuckling, he sat up, still inside her, eliciting a soft moan as he withdrew. Wrapping his arms around her, he carried her upstairs, planting a soft kiss on her forehead before gently laying her down on his bed. After quickly cleaning himself in the ensuite and grabbing a cloth for her, he returned to admire her naked form before laying beside her, cleaning up the mess they had made.

"Thank you," she mumbled, her voice hoarse as she opened her eyes.

He tossed the cloth into the hamper and lay back, embracing her from behind. Pressing a kiss on her neck, he whispered, "You're amazing," as she snuggled into him, emitting a satisfied moan.

"That was a first for a Star Wars marathon," she said softly, her voice already sleepy and relaxed.

"Well, it did bring us comfort," he replied, hugging her tighter.

"Mmmh, I hope all our movie marathons end this way," she murmured, her energy fading.

"If you have enough energy, I can show you the best part later," he teased.

"Mmmh, sleepy," she moaned.

"Sleep well, sweetheart," he said, closing his eyes and planting one last kiss on her neck.

"Mmmh mmm," she mumbled, relaxing, as they both fell into a restful sleep.

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Thank you so much for taking the time to read this chapter. Your feedback, in any form helps me to continue write this story; and comments makes me happy. See you at the next one :)

[holy-minseok]

We need mean!reader, angry!reader, misunderstood!reader, creepy!reader, gross!reader, toxic!reader, nonforgiving!reader, selfish!reader, narcissistic!reader, dark!reader, FEDUP!reader. That bitch is way too nice, passive, and sensible. ✋🏾😂

[stillinracooncity]

that feminine urge to read something that makes you cry, get angry, scream, laugh like a hormonal teenager, turn up the heat, feel like the most unique and beautiful human being on earth. *sighs*

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐂𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 | dad's best friend!cillian murphy x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | based on the following request: what would dilf/dad's best friend cillian do if he found your dildo?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5k (this was literally supposed to be a drabble...)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut (18+ only), significant age gap (reader is college-aged, cillian is in his late forties), voyeurism/exhibitionism, semi-public sex, use of toys, praise kink, unprotected sex, very brief/semi sarcastic 'sir' kink, shockingly fluffy??

Not that your parents' anniversary cocktail party wasn't horribly riveting (cue dramatic eyeroll) but you were upstairs, on your bed, on your phone; you'd had enough of 'so how's college going?' and 'what's your major again?' and 'got any boyfriends yet? you must be a heartbreaker' for one evening— or a lifetime, preferably.

It wasn’t even that comfortable to be on the bed in your party dress—a cute, short sparkly one that you’d picked out for tonight—but it was better than standing around and trying to balance in those sky-high heels; those you had kicked off into the corner of the room the second you were alone.

When you heard a small rap on the door, you hummed a quick "Come in!" and didn't even look up from your phone, figuring it was your mom or dad come to find you after you disappeared.

Instead, you heard Mr. Murphy's voice as he leaned in the doorframe; "Sorry to bug you," he said, startling you slightly as you closed Instagram and set your phone down. "Just needed a Tide pen— your mom said you might have one in here?"

"O-oh, yeah," you said, sitting up, "sure— what happened?"

"Salsa fiasco," he joked softly as he shut the door behind him, showing you the dark red stain on his shirt— though the shirt itself was red, so it wasn't too egregious, but still noticeable.

"That's too bad," you chuckled, "I warned them about that salsa— if you serve salsa, there's gonna be a fiasco, that's what I said."

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "They should listen to you more," he agreed.

"I've got a couple stain remover pens in that top drawer," you suggested as you pointed to your dresser.

"Great," he smiled, starting to unbutton the shirt; you got nervous for a second until you realized he had on a black undershirt beneath. It's hard to say why you were nervous about that, since you'd seen him shirtless plenty of times in the years you'd known him...

"Nobody's worried about me going missing, right?" you wondered as he continued working on the buttons, and he shook his head while shrugging slightly.

"Not yet," he replied, "but they're going to want to find you soon, you're sort of the star of the night."

You rolled your eyes, frowning. "It's my parents' anniversary party, I think they should be the focus."

"Maybe they should, but you're the much more interesting one," he informed you.

You pulled your legs up a bit, leaning to the side as you sat on your bed; as much as all this attention from your parents' friends was usually annoying to you, something about being interesting to Mr. Murphy didn't bother you so much. "Is it weird for you?" you asked, lowering your voice a bit; he tilted his head quickly as if to ask what you meant. "Going to an anniversary party after, you know—"

The words hung in the air, seeming to gather around his conspicuously naked ring finger: after the divorce. "Oh, no," he scoffed, taking off his cufflinks. "It's fine; but I'm sick of the questions about it."

You winced. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Don't worry," he laughed finally shirking off the shirt; he looked a little too good in just the short-sleeved undershirt. "You can make it even by letting me ask you how college is going."

"Oh god," you groaned, rolling your eyes, and he laughed.

"If I didn't know from your parents that you were acing it, I'd worry that your aversion to talking about it meant you were struggling somehow."

"It's not that," you assured, "it's the people."

"The people?" he pressed. "Or the guys?"

You laughed nervously, looking down at your lap. "Geez, you learn to mindread while I was gone or something?"

He stepped around your bed to get to the dresser, laying his shirt down over it. "No, I just remember that time— somehow. And I remember how much of a headache I and every other young guy was."

"I guess not much has changed then," you smiled.

"What, I'm still a headache?" he grinned as he looked over his shoulder at you.

"No, I meant—"

"I know what you meant, I'm just teasing," he chuckled. "Top drawer you said?"

"Yeah," you nodded, and he opened the top drawer of the dresser; of course, only right then did you remember that you should have specifically said top left. Because the top right was—

Oh shit.

You swallowed thickly as Cillian stared down into the open drawer, and your heart pounded as you somehow hoped and prayed that what was in there had turned invisible or something; but if the look on his face was anything to go by, it was just as visible as ever.

“I—fuck, sorry, I forgot that’s—” you choked out, face burning impossibly hot.  “I never meant for you to see—I’m—could you shut the fucking drawer, please, you pervert?!”

“I’m the pervert?” he laughed thinly, looking at you again finally.  “You’re the one with a massive fucking dildo in here.”

“Well—you weren’t supposed to see that—”

“Yeah, but—fuck,” he choked, “I was just looking for your stain remover and I see your— you have a— are you sure that isn’t technically considered a weapon or something?  How’s a guy supposed to compete with that?”

“That’s the great thing about it: he doesn’t have to compete,” you explained, “that’s sort of the whole idea.”

He looked back at it for a second and you yelped, reaching your leg off the bed to kick him in the hip.  “Would you please shut the drawer?!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughed a bit, “but I mean, how am I supposed to react to that?

“Well, you’re not supposed to just stare at it!” you insisted.

He shut the drawer, giving you a look you couldn’t possibly decipher.

“What were you thinking?!” you said, somewhat rhetorically.

“I—well,” he hummed, looking away from you for a second, “I was thinking that I can’t imagine how you can possibly fit something like that.”

You blinked quickly, not sure what to say in response to that.  “Well—I mean, it’s a little big, but… it gets the job done.  Keeps me from calling the guys I shouldn’t be calling.”

He nodded.  “Well, that’s good… none of those college boys could possibly deserve you…”

His eyes were running all over you, and even though you’d picked out this dress just for this party because you loved how you looked in it, you felt a little exposed by his stare.

“I just can’t believe a girl like you—”

“Come on, I’ve never been a saint,” you scoffed, glancing away.

“No, I just mean… the size of that thing…” he trailed off.

“You really can’t get over that part,” you noticed, “is this some kind of… intimidation, Freudian situation?”

You glanced quickly at his pants, and he started to deny it instantly.  “No—come on, it’s not—I just can’t believe you take all that.  For fun.  It looks like it would break you.”

You hadn’t even had any drinks at this anniversary party, and yet you found yourself with this foggy head like you were tipsy; you blurted something out as if you were tipsy.  “What, you want me to prove it?”

His chest sunk a bit, and you were about to take it back when he spoke before you.  “I’d like to see you try.”

Biting your lip, you sat up on the bed, reaching around him and into the drawer.  He didn’t step back or out of the way, just let you grab the toy and lean back on the bed in front of him.

You reached up under your dress, sliding your panties out of the way, finding yourself suddenly plenty wet to fit this toy.

His eyes never left you, though they certainly travelled all over your body as you pressed the toy up to your entrance; it was thick, he wasn’t wrong, and you had to slowly warm yourself up to it whenever you used it on yourself. 

After pushing with enough pressure, the tip finally slipped inside and you let out a small sigh.  He watched carefully, and your lips fell open into a moan as you pushed the toy deeper into yourself.  When the stretch became a bit too sharp, you winced and slowed down, trying to take your time even with your heart racing and hands shaking.

You heard his own breathing picking up, watching you take the toy deeper; you found your gaze wandering over him, even lingering on his groin to see if you could catch a bulge growing there, but nothing was obvious yet.  You stared for a moment at his hands, too, suddenly wishing to have them all over you—well, maybe not that suddenly, you’d sort of thought about this before.  It wasn’t until somewhat recently that you noticed how sexy he was.  Maybe when you were younger, you understood that he was better looking than all the other adults you knew, but only once you left for college did you start thinking about him out of nowhere, imagining what he was really like when he wasn’t just being friendly with you—you even asked your mom once on a phone call if he was dating anyone.  Thankfully, she didn’t seem to get suspicious when you asked that; but she’d be more than fucking suspicious if she walked in now, saw you doing this to yourself under his watchful eye.

Oddly enough, the knowledge that someone could walk in and see this just made you even more desperate, and you gasped as you pushed the toy in deeper.

It still wasn’t all the way in, and you already felt so full… truth be told, he had a point about it maybe being too big for you—when you usually used it on yourself, you only put it in a little over halfway, since that was all you really needed.  You hadn’t put the whole thing inside since you first got it—and yes, you’d ordered it online, because if you’d seen it in person you probably would’ve been as intimidated by its girth as he was.

Your decision not to wear a bra with this dress became very apparent when his gaze settled on your chest; your nipples were hard, and clearly visible under the fabric now.  It was just because it was strapless that you went without, but you were thankful for it when you saw him quickly lick his lips at the sight.  You dared to moan just a little louder as you pulled the toy in and out, picking up your pace carefully.

“How’s it feel?” he asked lowly, his eyes drifting back to where the toy slid into you. 

“Good,” you mumbled, “really fucking good.”

“Can you really take it all?” he pressed, making your walls clench on the silicone.

Instead of answering aloud, you simply pushed it all the way in until your eyes rolled back—it was so deep, pressing heavy and fat against your deepest points until it felt like you might burst.

“Fuck,” he praised—it was just a swear, but the way he whispered it made it sound like a praise.

You sped up slightly, trying to do this the way you normally would without someone staring at you.  But you were even more sensitive with him watching, your walls clenching more and more around the toy until it was almost hard to keep thrusting it in and out.  Sighing, you shut your eyes and laid back on the bed to try to help yourself relax.  The change in angle just seemed to make the toy go deeper, rubbing harder against the spot inside you that made your back arch.

“You’re so wet,” he breathed; you whimpered, nodding in agreement, and kept moving the dildo as deep as you could get it with every thrust. 

Your free arm went back over your head to hold onto the comforter under you, your hand gripping tight for some relief for the pressure inside you.  “Fuck yes,” you whispered, knitting your brows together and fucking yourself faster.  “Feels so fucking good…”

He hummed a little, but you kept your eyes shut, afraid you’d lose your nerve if you looked at him again.  It had been months since you used anything but this, and you had no regrets—the toy performed way better than any of the guys you’d met at college.  But, truthfully, you didn’t like having to do this to yourself.  It felt like you could never move it fast or hard enough, and you needed to constantly have perfect control over the toy to get yourself to come—and when you come, the last thing you want is to take control, you want to lay back and lose control.  Still, it was better than the college fuckboys who smelled like beer and didn’t last more than two minutes.

Thinking about them wasn’t going to help you now, though; it was much better to think about Cillian, about those icy blue eyes running all over your body, about how his hands would hold you down while he claimed you, about how his lips would feel on your neck before he whispered in your ear that you were his…

You let out a sharp and sudden moan as the toy hit harder on that spot; your legs started to shake.  “Good girl,” he mumbled, making you moan even louder because god, those words just sounded right in his accent, with that rough voice—and they sounded right being said to you.

“Fuck,” you choked, “Mr. Murphy, I—”

He laughed a little.  “So polite,” he cooed.  “Open your eyes and look at me.”

Though it made your heart beat even faster, you did as you were told.  His stare was all-encompassing, making you feel completely trapped in a way you enjoyed more than you could’ve imagined. 

“Call me Cillian,” he insisted.

You weren’t sure if he meant to literally call him that right in that moment, but it sort of came out anyway: “Cillian,” you moaned, and the grip he’d taken on the dresser behind him tightened.

“Can you come for me?” he asked lowly.  “Right now?  Can you come on that fake cock?”

You bit your lip and nodded, moving the toy faster and faster— more desperate to come than ever.  “I—fuck, yeah, I’m close…”

“Good,” he praised again.  “Let me see you come, honey.”

Your back arched harder, deeper—your hands were shaking but you kept going, holding on tight to the dildo and forcing it back and forth as your legs began to quiver.

Moans poured from your mouth faster than you could try to quiet them—everyone was downstairs, you just had to hope the music and conversation was enough to drown out your desperate, pleading noises.  “Fuckin’ beautiful,” he mumbled, right as you hit the peak and melted into the mattress, a wave of ecstasy pouring over you.

You felt hot everywhere, but especially between your legs—you could swear you felt yourself leaking out around the toy, soaking it, giving away how needy you’d become and not even having the mental energy to feel any shame for it.

Cillian certainly didn’t look like he was trying to shame you for it; when you opened your eyes again, he had a stunned expression—in the best way.  “You normally come that fast for a toy?”

You laughed a little, but you still couldn’t quite catch your breath.  “No,” you admitted, “it normally takes… a bit longer than that…”

“What was different about tonight?” he mused, and you scoffed and rolled your eyes again.

“Shut up,” you sighed.  “Now I have to figure out how to take this thing out—I’m always sore after…”

“If you can handle putting it in, taking it out shouldn’t be much trouble,” he noticed.

Which, yes, that would make sense, but after coming you always got all tight and sensitive and it could be a little intense.

“How about I help you?” he offered, and your chest tightened.  He waited for you to nod before carefully wrapping his hand around your own, watching your face as he gently guided you to pull the toy out.

Your lips were slack and your eyes were probably glassy and dazed as he looked at you like that, completely enveloping you in his stare as he studied every detail of your expression.  Aside from some heavy breathing you didn’t react much to him sliding the toy out of you, until the ridge of the head reached your entrance and you winced.

“Shh,” he soothed gently, “it’s okay…”

A long sigh of relief emptied your chest when the toy tapered off and you felt the last of it slip out of you; you really noticed then how soaked you were, as a draft in the room seemed to cling to the patch of wetness that had coated all between your legs somehow.

“Lemme see, baby,” he cooed under his breath as he set the toy aside, kneeling down and resting a hand on the inside of your thigh to keep your legs open.

You could barely catch your breath with him doing that; you’d never had someone… look at it like that.  You felt incredibly vulnerable but impossibly sexy as you heard him sigh at the sight.  “Is it all stretched out now?” you wondered.

“No,” he said, “you look… just as tight as before.  Fuck.  That’s incredible.”

You bit your lip, sitting up enough to try to get a look at his face past the puffiness of your dress’ skirt, and he smirked up at you with the loveliest sparkle in his eye.  “Really?” you breathed, and he nodded.

Even though your hands were still shaking you suddenly felt brave; maybe it was just the afterglow, but you grabbed him by the shirt and sat up to kiss him, colliding your lips with his.  He reciprocated instantly, putting his hands on your upper back that the strapless dress left bare.

The kiss was perfect—needy but not too fast, sweet but not too chaste, teasing but not too slow.  The guys in college couldn’t even kiss like this… you were wondering why you ever even tried with them—or, you would’ve been if that kiss left you capable of thinking about anything but him.  “Need you,” you whispered as you pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips, a hand holding your waist while he started to kiss your neck and jaw.  “Not here—your parents—”

“Don’t care,” you whimpered, “I’m so—fuck, Cillian, please—”

“You already came,” he noticed with a small laugh, “didn’t that take the edge off?”

“Not enough,” you whined, getting impatient and running a hand down over his shirt and down to his pants—and you smiled proudly as you felt the hardening bulge beneath.  He choked a little when you touched him there, holding you tighter.  “You want me too,” you noticed.

“Of course I do, but—” he breathed, then stopped himself as he tossed you back on the bed; you giggled as he crawled up over you, pinning you down.  “But we can’t… your parents would have my head on a platter—once they’re done serving crawfish etouffee off of it downstairs.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on telling my parents,” you smirked.  “Were you?”

“No,” he agreed, kissing your neck again as you hummed happily.  “But if they found out—”

“So?  They wouldn’t like if they found out about what just happened, either—and they won’t.”

“But this is different,” he insisted.

“How?”

“Because this…”

He trailed off, kissing down your neck and over your shoulder, until a hand reached up to pull your dress down and expose your chest.

“Shit,” he sighed at the sight of it, and you smiled up at him.

“You were saying?” you teased.

“Right, erm,” he swallowed, “this is different because—because if we do this, you’re gonna be my girl.  Not just a misguided one-time fuck because you were turned on after screwing yourself with your dildo while I watched.”

You felt a little out of breath but nodded up at him.  “Okay,” you agreed.

“Okay?” he repeated, looking a little shocked.  “I tell you that you have to be mine and you just say okay?”

“What was I supposed to say, yes sir?” you joked.

“I just mean—shit, if I knew it would be this easy, I would’ve said something sooner,” he chuckled.  “But I’m, er, not complaining about the yes sir thing either…”

He sat up and started to unbutton his pants, making you wiggle a bit on the bed impatiently.  Even though you’d just gotten filled by your big toy, you felt needier than ever for something inside you—something real. 

Your throat caught when he took it out— it was pale and veiny just like the rest of him; long, uncut, a bead of precum starting to leak from the slit… it was beautiful, honestly.  The artificial fleshy hue of the silicone could never compete.

“Big enough for you?” he asked with a smirk, but you had to swallow before you answered because your mouth was watering.

“Yeah,” you panted, “plenty.”

He kissed you again, laying more of his weight on top of you; your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him close as he pressed you down into your bed.

One hand found your wrist and held it back above your head, while the other kept a tight wrap around his cock so he could guide it to your waiting entrance.  When he pushed inside, you both sighed with relief like you’d been longing for this for ages—perhaps because both of you had, in your own ways.  “Fuck,” you breathed, “Cillian…”

He whispered your name back to you, heavy and desperate and right by your ear, and you absolutely knew you were his, just like he said.  He only stilled for a moment when he was all the way inside, already starting to rock back and forth—but he was sort of tender about it, watching you move under him as he fucked you.  “So pretty,” he praised quietly, kissing you again, even harder than before.  You both moaned into the kiss, and a warm, rough hand settled on your thigh under your dress.

Soon, the pleasure was too much to even focus on kissing, and your mouth just fell wide open in front of his as needy moans passed through it.  He stayed close, though, watching your face go slack with ecstasy.  The previous orgasm had left you sticky and sensitive inside, still totally dripping for him, everything in you begging for more.  “Oh my god,” you sighed, eyes rolling back, your composure completely slipping already.  He made you feel so good so easily—and fuck, the way he was looking at you, it was just too much to bear.

“Mm,” he hummed proudly, latching his lips onto your neck again until your fingers tangled in his hair.  He moved down and caught a nipple in his mouth, making you whimper as he suckled at it gently. 

“Fuck,” you whined, nearly pulling him along by the hair when he moved to the other one; you couldn’t stop clenching inside, squeezing him until he groaned against your skin. 

“Won’t last if you keep doing that,” he warned you softly. 

“What if I don’t want you to?” you teased, and he growled a little between his teeth, sitting up to look down at you.  He fucked you harder, but put a hand on top of your head and pet your hair for a moment, looking at you like you hung the moon; how could he be so dirty then so adorable within the same split-second?!

“I’ll do whatever you want me to,” he decided, speaking softly, “how about that?  What do you want me to do?”

That was a little too much power to give you, at least in your opinion, but you grinned as you considered it.  “Then I want you to come way too quick,” you decided, “like all those annoying college boys—because you just can’t help yourself.”

He laughed a little, though he stopped to bite his lip as he fucked you even harder—and faster, too.  “Okay,” he breathed, “don’t know why you want that, but—fuck— it won’t be very difficult after that little show you gave me.  You look so pretty when you come…”

“Just keep going and you can see it again,” you promised, holding onto him tighter as he pressed into you and really let you have it—not really rough or anything, you couldn’t risk making any more noise than you were, but still aggressive and passionate and desperate.

He kissed your neck again, burying his face in your shoulder and finding the spot that made you gasp out his name suddenly; your fingers clutched at fistfuls of his undershirt, and your legs began to shake where they were hooked around his hips and half-pushed-down pants.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, the pleasure hitting you again—but it was better than with the toy, it was stronger, and it just kept going because he kept going.  When your head fell back onto the mattress with a sigh, he realized that he’d made you come.

“Wait, fuck, I wasn’t looking,” he rushed as he popped his head up from the crook of your neck, “do it again.”

You laughed breathlessly and pushed against his shoulder a bit; “Shut up, I can’t do it on command.”

“You did it the last two times I told you to,” he reminded you, and that just made you feel even more deliciously dizzy. 

Yes, you were definitely his girl now—totally addicted to him.  You’d never felt like this with somebody—not just physically, but the trust and the laughter and the comfort of it all.  This wasn’t a too-empty dorm room that still smelled like fresh paint, it wasn’t a mattress with no sheets in an apartment with 5 roommates nearby, it wasn’t a guy you vaguely knew from a two-hundred-student class or someone you saw on a dating app and talked with for an afternoon before meeting for ‘coffee’ (it was never just coffee).  This was Mr. Murphy—and that should’ve made it weirder, but somehow, it just made it make more sense.

“So, if I tell you to come again,” he spoke lowly by your ear, a new authority to his tone, “you should come.”

You couldn’t think of anything else to say: “Yes, sir,” you breathed, hugging him close to you and pressing your face against his shoulder.

Of course, it wasn’t quite instantaneous, but just another minute of him giving you those deep, controlled thrusts right into your favorite spot sent you over the edge easily—and this time, he gently guided your face out of its hiding spot and looked at you, watched your pleasure overtake you, tenderly rubbing your cheek with his thumb.  “Good girl,” he praised softly, kissing you again just as the last of it drained from you; you were so numb that you barely heard him whisper something to you—it took you a few seconds to process it.

“I’m gonna come,” he’d whispered to you, “fuck, you’re so fucking warm…”

“Come inside,” you instructed, and for all the concern he tried to perform for you after you said that, his moan was undeniable, as was the way he started to move faster.

“Fuck, really?” he nearly whined.  “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, panting.

“You’re on—”

“Yes, please, just come inside me,” you begged, and he finally stopped protesting and pressed himself as deep into you as he could—you could feel the way his cock flexed, and it made your exhausted walls dig up just enough energy to flex back.

“Fuuuuck,” he groaned, holding onto you tightly.

You hummed a little at the feeling, turning your face towards his, hoping to see what he looked like in this moment—but he pulled you into another kiss before you could get a good look.  Even this kiss was different from the others—a little slower, a little more tired in a wonderful, dreamy way.  He was breathing heavy against you, and eventually he found the energy to push himself up with his arms on either side of your head, and you smiled up at him.  He looked really fucking good like this: his face a bit flushed, which seemed to show his freckles and fine lines even more (which you adored); his hair falling down, a little wavier from the slight sweat he’d worked up; his lips swollen and slick from the kisses; and those eyes, they looked as beautiful as always, but they made you feel beautiful, too.

“Is taking this one out gonna hurt, too?” he asked you with a smirk.

“Probably a little,” you shrugged.

“For both of us,” he agreed, “I’m so fucking sensitive now… you really do have me acting like a desperate college boy—but you know, it’s been a while, so…”

“Right, sure—good excuse,” you joked, but you didn’t mind any of it either way.

He did it a little quicker, pulling back as he took a sharp breath in, and you giggled softly.

“Fuck, I can feel it, like… leaking out,” you admitted, biting your lip at the sick satisfaction of the warm gush.

“I think I need to see that,” he said, sitting up and picking your legs up from under the knee to look at you.  This was apparently a habit of his—and you were starting to get used to it already.

“How’s it look?” you asked, wondering if he’d finally stretched you out after that.

He just stared at it for a moment longer, running his tongue over his teeth, before finally looking back at you and saying with a smile: “Looks like you need the Tide pen more than I do.”

[lovelybucky1]

Treat Me Wrong

Kinktober Day 16- Degradation Kink

warnings: AFAB!Reader, manipulation, gaslighting, cheating, sex work, roleplay, spanking, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy, 18+ minors DNI

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“I think we should break up,” you say.

Tommy’s face twists in anger and confusion. “Where’d you get that idea?” he asks.

This is exactly why you want to break up. He’s so dismissive and he doesn’t respect you. He’s sitting relaxed in his chair like you didn’t just suggest ending your relationship. Why is it so difficult for him to care about you?

“I’m not happy!” you say.

Tommy scoffs in response. “You live like a princess. What else could you possibly need?”

“Love and attention,” you huff.

“Christ,” he shakes his head in disbelief. “Are you a child? Do you really need me to attend to you all day to be content?”

“Not all day, Tommy. Just sometimes. What's the point in even having a lover if you won't spend time with them?"

"You act like I have a lot of free time to waste. I'm a very busy man."

His way of having excuses for everything make you feel like you're going insane.

"You have enough time to spend with prostitutes," you say bitterly. This makes Tommy perk up. "I know you go to see them after work and lie to me when you get home late. Why do you bother stringing me along if you'd rather pay for your companionship?"

Tommy chuckles darkly. "That's what this is about, eh?"

"Why the fuck are you laughing, Tommy?"

He stands up from his chair and crosses the room to stand in front of you. He places one hand on your hip while the other holds his cigarette. The smoke swirls in front of your face, the pungent smell burning your nose.

"You're jealous of my whores?" he asks smugly.

"What do they have that I don't," you ask angrily.

"I have certain needs that they satisfy."

You scoff and push his hand off of you. "We're together, Tommy. You should come to me to satisfy your needs, not step out on me."

Tommy rolls his eyes and grabs ahold of your wrist. "What I need isn't appropriate for a high society woman like yourself."

You furrow your brows in confusion, but no matter what he's talking about, you want to be able to provide it for him. "You don't get to decide what's appropriate for me or not. Besides, you'd know that I'm very adventurous if you ever took the time to actually be intimate with me."

He blinks slowly at you and licks his lips, then smirks devilishly. "You want me to treat you like one of my whores?"

"Yes, Tommy."

"Right." Tommy stubs his cigarette out in the ashtray on the side table, the turns his attention back to you. Both of his hands are on your hips now, holding you firmly. "You promise not to get upset?"

"Why would I get upset?"

Tommy fights back a smirk. "Because I tend to be a bit... harsh."

"Harsh?" you ask.

"You said you want me to fuck you like a whore. A dirty, cheap, used up whore that's only good for taking cock. Is that right?" You hesitantly nod. "Then until I'm finished, that's exactly what you're going to be. I'm only going to stop if you tell me to, otherwise I'm going to have you just like I have them."

"Okay," you breathe.

Tommy steps away from you and sits back in his chair. "Take your dress off," he instructs.

You find it a bit odd that he's just watching instead of also getting undressed, but it does make you feel better that the prostitutes he visits don't get to see him naked.

You strip piece by piece until you're bare in front of him. He stands up again and looks over your body, occasionally prodding and groping you.

"Turn around," he says, voice low. You do as he says and you allow yourself to be moved over to the couch. Tommy pushes you so you're bent at the waist over the arm rest, bare ass on display.

Tommy continues to grope you; he slaps your cheeks, spreads and slaps them, and teases at your folds.

“Wet already? Didn’t think whores got off on their work,” he says.

Without much prep, he shoves two fingers into your cunt. Like a true whore, you take them easily. He opens you up by scissoring his fingers inside you. He's going quickly, not bothering to take his time and make it pleasurable for you. You suppose he pays for his own pleasure, not yours.

"Already loose too. How many others did you have today?" he asks. When you don't answer him, he delivers a slap to your ass.

"N-none," you whimper.

"Sounds like business is slow."

He pulls his fingers out of you and wipes your wetness on your thigh. He then moves to press his hips against yours, allowing you to feel the bulge in his slacks. He grinds up against you shamelessly, making you feel even more humiliated now that he's simulating fucking you while he's fully dressed.

"Tell me you want my cock," he orders.

"I want your cock," you parrot with a whine in your voice.

"You can be more convincing than that," he says with a slap to your ass. "Be a good whore and beg me to fuck you."

You take a deep breath. "Please fuck me. I need your cock so bad... Mr. Shelby," you add for good measure.

That seems to please him, because he moves away from you far enough to pull his cock through his fly. He rubs the head through your folds, teasing your entrance with it.

"I'm not going to catch anything from fucking you raw, am I?" he asks, though he knows the answer.

"No, sir," you reply.

You're glad he bent you over like this, because that means he can't see your embarrassed face and you don't have to look into his intimidating eyes.

"Mm, good."

He pushes inside you, not gently but he doesn't aim to hurt you. Once he's fully seated inside, he begins to thrust before you're ready for it. You gasp in surprise, but you're helpless to do anything but take it.

"Didn't think pussy so cheap would take me so well," he groans. His hands grip tightly on your hips and he slams you back to meet each of his thrusts. His cock bumps against your cervix uncomfortably, but it feels best for him when you take it all the way, and that's the only thing that matters.

With each thrust, you make a punched out little moan. Tommy, however, is silent above you, save for a bit of heavy breathing. It isn't until you arch your back and really start putting on a show that he speaks up.

"Like a fuckin' professional, eh? I should come to you more often. Y'know, my woman's a real bitch sometimes. Never lets me fuck her like this. Thinks she's too good to get bent over. Has so many opinions, too. But you're a good woman; quiet, tight," he leans down, draping himself over your back to speak into your ear. "Obedient."

You can't help but moan at his filthy words, despite how degrading they are. You shouldn't find your lover talking badly about you so arousing, but you cant help it.

"She gets so mad I cheat on her but I think she'd understand if she felt this cunt for herself. 'm gonna marry her and fuck her full of babies to keep her busy while I give the real good stuff to you."

"Fuck," you whimper and immediately regret it.

"You like when I talk to you like a whore? You like getting fucked hard like I don't love you?"

It's rare that Tommy says he loves you. So rare, in fact, that you often doubt if it's true.

"Yes, yes," you gasp. "I love you."

"Mm," he hums. "Save it for when I'm not paying you."

[cillianhead]

this is literally the hottest thing i’ve ever seen in my entire life. i am just sitting here watching it over and over and over and over again… ITS TOO MUCH FOR MY BRAIN TO HANDLE.

[starkwlkr]

barbenheimer | cillian murphy

this was supposed to be posted on friday which was the release date for both movies but i was in mexico and i had no signal 😭 also i will always be a whore for cillian murphy 🫶🏼🫶🏼 he’s literally the reason i watched a quiet place 2 twice sooooo

liked by ameliadimz, ariana_greenblatt and 4,277,280 others

barbiethemovie TEASER TRAILER OUT NOW!

y/nmymother this is going to heal my depression

murphyfam y/n and cillian having their movies come out on the same day is so iconic of them

pascalismybf clearing my schedule just for them on july 21st

violetdelights y/n: 💕💖🌸💓💝🌷🎀🩰 cillian: 🖤⚫️💣🔪🧍🏻🔥💥🧨

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y/nl/nmurphy has added to their story

liked by barbiethemovie, oppenheimermovie and 5,277,288 others

y/nl/nmurphy cillian and I spending today with the birthday boy instead of working. happy birthday, my sweet boy!!

barbiethemovie he’s more than kenough! happy birthday, alexander!

florencepugh what a legend! auntie flo sends so much love to the birthday boy❤️

tomhardy my godson is looking great! love you alex!

extratv barbenheimer day? no, it’s alexander murphy day!

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[drcranessweetestdoe]

heyyyyy

could you do a Tommy shelby fic?

in which he fucks Ada's bestfriend when she is 18!

hii, love this idea xx I have been writing this all day, time to celebrate with a jam sandwich:) xx

Finally mine

warning: agegap!, Thomas lusts after her while she is underage, grooming, virginity loss, virginity kink, innocence kink, unprotected sex, Tommy being a softie, possessiveness

pairing: Thomas Shelby x Innocent!Reader

summary: ever since he came back from the war, Tommy found himself wanting his sister’s lovely and sweet best friend, too bad he has to wait until she is 18

(Y/N) was the sweetest girl in the whole of Birmingham, always polite and kind. Thomas was smitten with her from day one. She and Ada met in school, she felt sorry that Ada was always alone, because everyone told their kids to stay away from the filthy Shelby’s. So, one day she gathered the courage and sat beside the sad girl, who was very excited to finally have a friend.

It was the age of war, so everyone was always on the edge of a meltdown. And money wasn’t exactly falling from the sky. While (Y/N)’s family weren’t considered aristocrats by any chance, she never had to worry about not getting fed, or not having a warm bed to sleep in. That was something that the Shelby’s couldn’t exactly relate to, there was little money and quite a few mouths to feed. Aunt Polly tried her best to feed the hungry children at the table, but she was failing more and succeeding less. Her sister-in-law’s three big boys were away at war, but they were always talked about.

One day, the thirteen year old (Y/N) plopped down beside her best friend Ada with a full lunch box in hand. She always had lunch packed with her, but Ada never did. For a long time, she just assumed that the malnourished girl was not hungry in school. While she was munching on her apple, she heard the growl of a hungry belly and Ada turned her head down in shame. While a girl is naive at 13, (Y/N) immediately knew that her friend was hungry, and that she probably didn’t get as much food at home as she did. When Ada looked back at her, she reacted with a wide smile to the outstretched hand towards her, holding a big red apple.

For the rest of the break, they just sat under their tree, silently chewing on their apples, with a smile on both faces.

That is how Ada knew that (Y/N) was going to be her lifelong best friend. She opened up to her when they were sharing a cigarette on the edge of the forest.

“We had more money before the war, if Tommy was here he would make sure that we have food.” Ada explained.

(Y/N) just blinked at her friend. “Who’s Tommy?”

———-

Three years later, the girls were now sixteen and the war was finally over. Because (Y/N) herself didn’t have any brothers, or sisters, she didn’t know how many families waited for this day to come.

It was a pretty summer day, and she made her way to the Shelby household, where she was always welcomed by Aunt Polly. Except, when she walked into the house, there was only one man sitting at the table. Her breath got stuck in her throat and she blushed heavily, he was very handsome. For a moment she believed that she walked into the wrong house, but the photographs on the walls proved otherwise. He was smoking a cigarette and staring at the wall blankly, he was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even hear her come in.

Thomas just wanted a moment to himself in his childhood house before going back to the Garrison, he was not the same man anymore. Suddenly, he saw a figure in the corner of his eye. A second later, the two pairs of eyes met. His previously sad eyes lit up at the sight of her, but he tried to conceal it. She was so beautiful… Slender and weakish frame, something that made him eager to protect her. Her long and soft looking hair. And that face, oh god, that pretty face.

“H-Hi… I’m (Y/N).” She walked closer to him and stuck her hand out for him, she recognized him from the pictures, he was one of Ada’s brothers.

He heard about her, Aunt Pol always told him what was happening on Watery Lane in the letters she sent to Tommy. She had mentioned Ada’s lovely friend, multiple times. She told him that the girl was pretty, very kind, and that she went with her to church on Sundays when no one else wanted to, just so Polly didn’t have to go alone.

Tommy smiled at her, and she felt herself get lost in those bright blue gems of eyes. Instead of shaking her hand, he brought it to his lips and planted a little kiss on it. Her hand was soft and warm, it was a while since he felt the touch of a gentle female. He smiled when she blushed more at his kiss. “Thomas Shelby.”

—----

From that day on, Miss (Y/L/N) was under the protection of the Peaky Blinders. Thomas always had one of his men following her and Ada to school, and then back home. It killed him knowing that he couldn’t touch her, make her his, not yet anyway. That would have been immoral and awful, and he knew that aunt Pol would have broken his hand in two and cut off his cock. That didn’t mean he hadn’t spent too many night fucking his fist to the thought of her. Everyone in the Shelby clan could see how soft he was towards her, always making sure that she stays out of the bad things, and whenever she came over and he was working, his eyes basically formed into hearts and followed her everywhere. The family loved her, she enjoyed baking and she always made sure that at least once a week she turned up to the office with home-baked treats. Those kinds of sweet treats calmed everyone down, business was blooming after all.

Ever since Tommy came back from the war, he only let himself be pleasured by whores, the one girl he wanted was the one he had to wait for. He always hired prostitutes that resembled her even the slightest bit. He imagined that he was burying himself inside her wet and warm walls, he overheard her and Ada and he was very well aware that she was untouched, a sweet little virgin. In Small Heath, the girls started sleeping around in their teens, but she, at 17, didn’t care about the boys her age. She wanted a certain gangster, who was nearing his thirties.

He didn’t even claim her yet, but wherever she walked, everyone knew she was Tommy Shelby’s girl. He sent her gifts, and always a handwritten note. Her heart never failed to warm up when she saw the little T.S on the bottom of the cards. Flowers, chocolates, exotic spices that she could put in her sweet treats, jewellery, dresses, everything a 17 year old girl loves. She was spoiled by him. When she wore one of the dresses that he got for her, she always sent him a shy smile and a little nod.

—-----

Tomorrow was going to be the day when she would finally become 18 years old, a young lady. She felt so antsy getting to bed, knowing that she would wake up as an adult. She also deeply hoped that Tommy would do something, after 2 years of gifts, protection and lustful gazes from distance. It was safe to say that her standards were very much heightened.

When she woke up, she noticed a big box on the chair of her vanity, tied up in one of those big ribbons. Her mother must have brought it up for her, as she always did when her daughter’s name was on the box, written by the familiar handwriting.

She was smiling widely when she opened the box up, it had a beautiful silky dress and a gold locket necklace. She marvelled at the divine fabric, but quickly blushed when she looked into the box again. There was a set of white lingerie and a note.

Tonight, I’ll send a car to pick you up at 7pm, be ready.

~T.S

She melted at that, and she felt her lower tummy warm up. This evening, she will finally be claimed.

——-

By the time 7pm rolled around, she did everything she could to make herself look pretty for him. She took a long hot bath, made sure she smelled good everywhere. She washed her hair and tied up half of it with a bow. She put lotion all over herself, sprayed herself with perfume and put the lovely dress on. Sitting in her vanity, she put on some makeup. She felt beautiful.

She got her light coat on, along with kitten heels and she was waiting for his car to come. When it did, she sat in the backseat and greeted the driver.

She got driven to Arrow house, which she only heard about before. It was so huge, and overwhelming, but very nice.

A maid took her coat and escorted her to the dining roomom. Just like the rest of the house, it was quite big, both the room itself and the table. It was decorated elegantly, the candlelight flooded the room. Just as she stepped in, Thomas walked in the room on the other door. He looked so handsome as always, with his muscular frame and his tailored suit.

His heart nearly jumped out of his chest, she looked like an angel, and she was standing in his house, wearing his gift. The maid left, now there were only two of them in the room, he walked up to her. With a gentle hand on her waist, he pulled her closer so he could plant a kiss on her cheek and whisper in her ear. “You look absolutely gorgeous.” He got even closer, her head was spinning with him so close, his masculine scent sent her hormones into overdrive. “I hope the dress isn’t the only gift of mine on you.”

He felt his dick twitch when she looked up at him like that, a gentle glint in her eyes. She shaked her head, too lost in his eyes to answer with words. To shake her out of her trance, he guided her to her seat, with his hand still on her slender waist.

He sat next to her, the maids kept on serving the finest of foods. Thomas also brought out a bottle of red wine. Both of them were surprised how easy it was for them to talk. They talked and ate, and Tommy even found himself laughing. He also found out how innocent she was, she wasn’t stupid, just inexperienced, and he was more than happy to give her experience. She also had a big heart, and a gentle soul, she was everything he needed.

While everyone in Small Heath tried to warn her about Thomas Shelby, she never understood why. He was just trying to protect his family and give them a chance at a better life, he was also an absolute softie for her. She could see that he had a lot of love to give, he enjoyed being the leader and defeating other gang leaders, but he must have been craving someone who could take care of him for once, she knew that she wanted to be that person.

When they finished dessert, he pulled her chair closer to his and cradled one of her blushing cheek into his palm.

“Are you aware of my intentions towards you?” He asked in a serious tone, she knew that he wasn’t fooling around. Now or never. She nodded as much as she could with the gentle hold on her face, but he wasn’t having it. “Answer me with words, I want to see if you really want this.” She felt dizzy by hearing his dominating tone.

“Yes, I know your intentions with me.” She replied shyly.

“What are they?” His fingers started to move her hair out of her face, caressing her in the process.

“Y-You want to make me yours.” She spoke lowly, it was hard to speak when he was looking at her as if he was seconds away from ravaging her.

“Yes, and do you want that, (Y/N)? Do you want me to make you mine?” He was even closer now, he whispered seductively in her ear, his full lips were nearly touching the shell of her ear. “Just say the word, sweetheart, and I will give you everything you crave. Please, let me give you the world.” Thomas Shelby barely used the word ‘please’, but he was nearly begging for her. She almost giggled, as if she really needed much convincing.

“I want it, I want it so bad, Tommy…” She was getting impatient, and he saw it on her.

“Shh, sweetheart… Don’t let your pretty head worry, I’m going to take care of you so nicely.” He stood up and stuck his hand out for her to take. “Come.”

He walked with her to his bedroom, she was walking behind him so she couldn’t see the wicked grin on his lips. When they stepped in the door, he just kept on walking, which caused her to walk backwards, until her knees hit the bed and she had fallen down on it.

He didn’t waste a second and crawled on top of her, his lips slowly finding hers. Their kiss started out slow, he guided her lips with his own. After a few minutes, noticing that she was starting to become more and more confident, he slipped his tongue into her open mouth. His hand wandered to her back, where the zipper was, his head pulled away so he could ask for silent permission. Once he got it, he helped her sit up and he removed the dress. Sitting back on his heels, he admired the sight in front of him, her young body was just begging to be ruined. She was wearing the lace, she looked exactly like an angel. His lips glued themselves to her neck and they sucked and bit, her noises were proof that she was enjoying his touch. He made sure to really mark her up, she wasn’t going to leave his mansion for a while, he needed his time with his new prize. She bit down on her lips to hide her moans, something he growled at.

“Don’t you dare. I want to hear you, don’t hold back, sweetheart.”

He went down to her breasts, he also reached under her arched back and unclasped her bra. She tried to cover herself, but he was having none of it. He slowly unpeeled her arms from her chest and kissed all around her breasts. “How beautiful! Such a nice pair of tits you have, the best I’ve seen.” He sucked a nipple into his mouth and she mewled loudly, she didn’t expect to feel so aroused while getting her nipples sucked at. He made sure that he gave both of her tits the same treatment before going lower.

Before he could do more, he stood up to remove his shirt and pants, her presence was making him hotter by the minute. He hooked his fingers into her panties and his cock nearly tore his underwear when he saw how the crotch was stuck to her entrance. She was already so ready for him. He yanked harder and they finally parted, he brought her panties up to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Mhm, so sweet… But, I think I need to feel this from the source.” Tommy dropped to his knees in front of her spread legs, her mind was making her doubt herself. What if she looked ugly down there? What if it smelled or tasted b—

“OH— Tommy!” She moaned loudly when his tongue licked a long stripe up her slit. He just chuckled into her pussy darkly, then he moved on to her pleasure. His mouth was sucking her throbbing clit, his fingers slowly circled her entrance, teasing her.

“Fuck… Your cunt tastes divine, and it’s only for my mouth to taste.” It wasn’t even a question. She was unable to form a coherent sentence, she could only moan and thrash on his tongue. He took one finger and he slowly eased it into her, she was so wet that it slipped right into her, he didn’t hesitate to add another one. “You’re going so good, I cannot wait to feel this tight virgin pussy on my cock.” He curled his fingers and rubbed them right into her spongy spot, her fingers grabbed his hair and tried to push his face more into her heat. He felt her clenching more and more, so he sped up his movements and grinned proudly when she came undone with a whiny moan and a desperate call of his name.

He kissed his way back up to her heaving chest and looked up at her flushed face. He talked her through it, until her breathing evened out again. He slowly slipped his underwear off, his back straightened out for her to see his big cock. It was veiny and thick and it made her nervous. He kept her legs spread, while he kneeled between them, one of his hand smoothing her face and the other one gripped himself at his base. “Want to give a little touch? Don’t be scared, I’m going to make this very pleasurable for you, my sweet girl.” He hissed when her fingertips made contact with his dripping tip, he was so pent up and her soft touch nearly made him blow his load all over her juicy tits, but he had to stay patient. “Are you ready? Ready to become mine?”

“Yes, Tommy, please, I want to feel you. I-I waited for you.” This caused him to grin and give her a deep kiss.

“I know you did, little one.” He positioned himself at her entrance and he slowly began pushing in, he felt a bit of resistance, but with a sharp thrust, he managed to break through it. He wrapped her up in his arms and whispered sweet nothings into her ear soothingly. “I know, I know. It will feel better in a minute, your pussy just has to adjust to my cock. Relax.” It didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would, but it still did, the girls in her class made it sound worse, or maybe their boyfriends didn’t take the time to prep them properly. That made her so proud, her Tommy made sure she was ready. She tried her best to relax her muscles and she felt the pain lessen. She planted a shy kiss on Tommy’s neck at which he chuckled at. “Good girl. You’re mine now, only mine.” He slowly began moving in and out of her.

Her walls gripped on him like a vice, he didn’t need any whores anymore, he had her now. His hands lifted her hips up a bit, so his cock was hitting her spot at every thrust. He went more and more faster, his fingers also began rubbing on her swollen clitoris.

“AH— Tommy, I’m going to—do that thing again.” His innocent little girl, so good for him.

“Good… I can feel you squeeze me, come on, sweet girl, come for me. Come on my cock. Let me fill you up. Let me make you mine.” With a shout of his name and a cry, she came around him. When he felt her walls pulsing around him, he let go too. His warm cum painted her walls, and it was such a delicious sensation. He stayed inside her for a few minutes, both of them trying to catch their breaths.

When he pulled out, he sat back so he could watch his cum leak out of her spent hole. He looked down proudly at his softening cock, which had some of her blood on it. Shit, he really filled her up with his load, there was so much of it. And the whiteness of him and the dark crimson of her virginity made such a lovely contrast together.

He took a rag from his bedside table and cleaned her up, making sure that he was gentle with her, the girl just got fucked and she was sensitive both physically and mentally, he had to be gentle.

After he made sure they were both clean, he once again brought her into his embrace. He smiled at her lovingly, which caused her to do the same. Her hair was all puffy from his touch, but he loved it.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” He cradled her cheek, and caressed her under eye area with his fingertip.

“I’m good, I feel a bit sore, but it’s okay.” She nuzzled into his neck and left little kisses. “I’m so happy to be here with you.”

He smiled in a way he didn’t for a long time, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. He wanted to give the world to the girl in his arms, and he felt the primal urge to protect her and keep her away from all the bad. “Me too. I’m happy to know that you’re finally mine.”

taglist: @your-nanas-house

[viesanterieures]

𝑨 𝑮𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝑳𝒊𝒇𝒆 | 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝟏

Robert Fischer (Inception) x Reader

next chapter

summary: Robert and the reader have nothing in common. He's the son of a multi millionaire and future heir to a massive energy company, she doesn't really stand out in the big city Paris. But then Robert catches her trying to steal from him. No longer able to stand the pressure from his father and his company, Robert offers her a deal.

warnings: swearing, bad father-son relationship

word count: 2.5k+

note: you don’t have to watch inception to understand this story

Today was such a success, wasn't it, Clarke?"

The older man at the wheel sighed and tried to look away from the passenger. Clarke knew he was being sarcastic.

"I'm sorry for you, Sir," he replied. "But days like this happen. Even as the future CEO of Fischer Morrow."

The younger, dark-haired man in the back just rolled his eyes in frustration. "Don't call me that. I've spent my whole life in his shadow. He mocked me for every little thing, always saying I wasn't a worthy heir. And now that the old man is on his deathbed, he's suddenly changed his mind."

Clarke slammed on the brakes in shock. He was so distracted by the conversation that he almost missed the red light directly in front of him.

"But Mr Fischer... He is your father," he answered, his hands still shaking a little.

Fischer didn't seem to care that his driver had almost had an accident. Lost in thought, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his head against the cold car window. The heavy rain pelted down loudly, leaving thick streaks. "He was never really a father to me," he finally said quietly.

Clarke remained silent, avoiding Fischer's gaze in the rear-view mirror. The light turned green again and he stepped on the accelerator so hard that Fischer's face almost hit the front seat.

"Hey, pay attention, okay? I've had enough shit happen to me today, I don't want to end up in hospital tonight."

"I’m sorry, Sir," the driver muttered, a bit intimidated.

Fischer snorted angrily and tugged at his shirt. It was a beautiful white piece from an exclusive luxury fashion brand of which he was particularly proud. Only now it was covered in a large brown coffee stain. Fischer was seething with rage at the thought of what had happened.

He had an important meeting in Paris today to present The Fischer Morrow, his father's leading energy company, to potential clients.

Fischer had prepared for everything, practiced the presentation several times, rehearsed every word to perfection and checked his appearance in the mirror at least five times. He had got up early in the morning to make sure he had enough time to get ready, so that every hair was in place, the tie neatly tied and the shirt without the slightest crease. An immaculate appearance was essential to him. He was vain in every way.

But everything changed when the secretary balanced a tray of coffee in the meeting room. Fischer had only noticed her out of the corner of his eye, turned around to the audience and ended up bumping into her.

Luckily the coffee was no longer boiling hot, otherwise he would have spent the rest of the day in hospital with serious burns. But it was enough to knock Fischer off his game.

Angry and embarrassed at the same time, he could hardly concentrate on the content of his presentation. So much so that by the end he could barely form a complete sentence.

In other words: The Fischer Morrow had no new clients.

Had Robert Fisher's father Maurice not been terminally ill, he would certainly have given him hell and accused him of being an unworthy heir.

As always. As he had done for many years, ever since Robert was a little boy. Maurice had never thought of him as a son. He only ever spoke of him as the heir to his business.

God, how Robert hated the job. But he couldn't give it up while his father was still alive. Maurice Fischer seemed to want to give his company to a man he couldn't stand, but to whom he was related by blood, rather than to a complete stranger.

Robert didn't know how long he'd been sitting in the back seat, lost in thought, when Clarke finally parked the car safely outside the hotel where he was staying for a few days.

The man hurried out of the car to open the door for his passenger, staring at Robert's dirty shirt. Fischer fumbled in his pocket for the key to the hotel room.

"Good night, see you tomorrow," he murmured, waving a quick goodbye to his driver. Finally, he turned around on the heel of his shiny black shoes to enter the luxury hotel.

A wave of tiredness suddenly hit him, and all he wanted to do was take a shower and fall into a warm, soft bed.

When he finally opened the door, the light in the suite was on. Roberts heart began to beat faster and he frowned in confusion. He was pretty sure he had turned it off earlier. Had the room service forgotten to turn it off after they had left the room?

But when he suddenly noticed movement from the rear room, followed by strange scratching and tapping noises, he froze.

What the hell was that?

Quietly, still clutching the key, he entered the room and was almost scared to death when he saw the person in his hotel suite. They were fiddling with his wall safe, apparently trying to break it open.

***

She turned around as she heard someone open the door to the hotel room. Damn it! Why would he be back from his meeting so early?

The woman held her breath. She knew her plan was completely insane and dangerous, and that she would certainly end up in prison. But at this moment, she really didn't know any other way to help herself. Her mountain of debt seemed to grow every month. Her low salary as a hotel employee and the fact that even the smallest apartments in Paris cost a fortune didn't help. After months of stress and sleepless nights, she couldn't take it any more.

She finally saw her chance when she found out that the son of a multi-millionaire was staying at the hotel.

"I asked you, what the hell are you doing here?" The deep, threatening voice instantly made her shiver. Then she began to examine the man carefully.

He was dark-haired, slim and wearing a classic black suit. The only thing that disturbed this elegant image was a large brown stain on his shirt.

Her eyes wandered up and she caught a glimpse of his face. The man's features were sharp, he had a prominent jaw, but the most striking thing was his bright blue eyes that were staring at her angrily.

Silence fell over the room like a big blanket. Only her fast breathing and the ticking of a clock could be heard.

"Room service..." she finally managed to say in a hoarse voice. "Mr Fischer I ..."

Robert noticed her strong French accent.

"I'm sorry." She tried to avoid the man's angry gaze but he kept on staring at her with his icy blue eyes as she pressed her back even harder against the wall.

"Are you kidding me? You broke into my room and tried to steal my money. Room service my ass. I'm calling the police."

"Wait!" she interrupted him in panic, "I didn't steal anything, I..."

She knew that it was over for her. But she alone was responsible for this mess by allowing her emotions succeed against her mind. And now she had to face the consequences.

The woman put her trembling hands on her face and tried to hold back the tears. Suddenly another shock went through her body as a phone started to ring loudly.

Fischer pulled his phone out of his pocket and answered in an energetic voice: "Uncle Peter, now is not the time to call!" Then suddenly there was silence. Much too quiet for her taste.

Glancing through her fingers, she saw the man in front of her hold his forehead and then rub his eyes with his thumb and index finger.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Peter...How does Dad know what happened today, he's in hospital in Sydney...Who told him that?"

His voice, which had just been deafeningly loud, had now dropped to a low whisper. He finally said goodbye to the caller. Again the room was completely silent. Fischer just stood there with his hands in his pockets, his head slightly bowed.

For a moment she considered taking the opportunity to make her escape but then she dismissed the idea. Her legs were paralysed by fear, he also was half a head taller and probably faster than her and would catch her immediately. Fischer slowly raised his eyes and stared at the young woman in front of him.

Desperation was written all over her face.

***

He couldn't call the police now. That would draw even more attention to him, and for weeks the press had been writing one false article after another about him.

If the press found out, they would twist everything around trying to destroy his image, as they often did.

So he would not only be the spoiled and lazy millionaire's son who took money from his dying father, but also the man who lured beautiful young women into his hotel room and locked them up in there.

Robert sighed and sat down in one of the red velvet armchairs.

"Alright, go ahead. Report me. Call the police. I was just trying to get money to buy food and pay my rent. You probably don't know anything about money problems."

He lifted his head as he heard her voice. Robert didn't know why, but somehow he felt compassion.

But he didn't answer, because he was too busy thinking about his own problems. "I can't take it anymore, I have to get away from here. Away from my father. Away from Fischer Morrow. Somewhere where I won't get any more attention..."

The young woman finally sat down beside him and smoothed her blouse for a moment. "It's really not nice to be almost invisible and not be noticed by anyone." She shrugged briefly.

"I'd trade my life for yours in a heartbeat, I'm not kidding," Robert said.

Why had he just said that?

The woman just laughed. "Believe me monsieur, you really don't want to do that."

In a very strange way, he felt sorry for her. He couldn't really explain it, after all she had almost robbed his hotel room. But somehow he felt attracted to her.

And at that moment, the last rational thought after this nerve-wracking day left his head. He suggested something to her that he would never have done in his right mind.

How about... you get me out of the hotel unnoticed and take me somewhere where I can stay for a few days. In return, no one will know about your robbery of my hotel room. Deal?"

One of her eyebrows moved up as he said those words. "You want me to take you to my flat?" She stared at him in disbelief.

Robert put on his charming smile that usually worked on every lady. "Come on, a lot of women would kill for what I just offered you. Some ladies scream when they see me walking down the street like I was a movie star or something. They've even told me I'm the most beautiful man they've ever seen.

She studied him quickly. He was undeniably handsome, but also incredibly arrogant.

"And how do I know you're not dangerous?" She gave Robert a disparaging look.

"Yes, maybe I‘m a serial killer, who knows", Robert joked.

"You must know that I am very suspicious. But I can't lose my job or go to jail." He could see her struggling to make the right decision.

"All right," she said finally, after half an eternity. "I'll help you. On the condition that no one ever finds out that I tried to steal from you."

Fischer smiled again. "You can take my word for it, Madmoiselle..." He held out his hand, noticing her cautious gaze. "Come on, you can tell me your name now."

"Call me YN."

"Okay, YN. Now let's get out of here."

Finally she took his hand. Her fingers felt cold.