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#cillian murphy fan fiction
look-at-the-soul · 11 months
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The surprise
Cillian Murphy x reader
Master list
A/N I didn’t want this day to go by without a story to celebrate the birthday boy 🎉🥰✨ so I wrote this little blurb.
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Opening one of his eyes, Cillian groaned trying to adjust to the daylight coming through the curtains.
After an exhausting night, he was able to have a good sleep, he could easily go again as images of you wearing your birthday special lingerie for him appeared in his mind. He loved seeing you wearing a spicy outfit just for him, as a matter of fact he felt like last night he could’ve easily passed out.
Luckily he didn’t, and now he wondered where he would be without you, his life was complete, he had more than he ever imagined, all of his projects in order, his relationship with his daughter started to get better after a dark time while the process of divorce was sorting out… and then, he had you.
It had been a great night; after a few drinks at a bar you both came back to your house fumbling with the clothes, desperate to take everything off. Against his will, you organized a small reunion with a few close people, but Cillian ended up having a great time seeing so many familiar faces around… but by the end of the night he was eager to head back home, teasing you on the the drive back.
You found him lying on his back, his gaze lost somewhere in the wall in front of him. Clearing your throat, you waited by the doorframe holding a cake with a few candles.
As you sang the last chorus of Happy Birthday to him, you gave him a wink and blew a kiss in his direction. His eyes roaming up and down your body.
He bit his lower lip while his eyes sparkled in desire for you. “What is this?”
“A birthday cake for you, duh, of course.” You chuckled. “Oh you think I didn’t know how to bake one?”
“I’m surprised.” Cillian pushed himself up, to lean on the headboard.
“I’ve my ways.” You kneeled on bed, offering him the cake. “Go on, make a wish.”
“But I’ve everything I ever wanted already.”
Your heart melted surprised by his words.
****
Tag list; @lyarr24 @datewithgianni @cillmequick @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @heidimoreton @allie131313 @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @mrkdvidal1989 @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel @already-broken144 @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @rangerelik @moral-terpitude @winchestergirl22 @imichelle-l-rigby
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seleneshelby · 1 year
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Here's another collage for your story The Photoshoot @look-at-the-soul @thats-what-cill-said
@gypsy-girl-08 @cillmequick
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Hello Selene from the ask game could you answer 10 & 20?
Thanks!
10. I write with background noise.
I usually write alone or with people around.
20. I usually write in spurts because I write when I'm in the mood.
@look-at-the-soul @gypsy-girl-08 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @midnightmagpiemama @creativepawsworld
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starfall-xo · 2 months
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2024 Academy Awards Best Picture Nominees as VHS tapes by @ShawnMansfield
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jomarch-wannabe · 1 year
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Sold (Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader)
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Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Gold's daughter!Reader
Synopsis: The coin lands on tails
Warnings: Smut 🔞(implied age gap, dubcon/noncon, virginity loss, p in v sex, rough sex, cursing, praise kink, sir kink, choking, overstimulation) Angst (anxiety, crying, manipulation, blood loss)
Author's note: I thought of this on a whim one day and went with it. Definitely a darker portrayal of Tommy.. read at your own discretion.
CH. ONE CH. TWO
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“I’m gonna spin a coin for your yard Charlie.”
“You goin’ what?”
“If it’s heads, Abe here takes all this,” Tommy explained with an extended hand, “with my blessing.”
“Tommy!”
“And if it’s tails,” Tommy paused, flicking his eyes to Aberama's cocked brow. “I fuck your daughter Mr. Gold.”
His face fell stone cold at the proposition.
“What’ll it be?” Tommy asked with a smug expression, dragging a cigarette across his lips. “Heads or tails?”
“Heads.” Abbie spat, straightening his posture to assert dominance.
Tommy’s expression remained unchanged as he twirled the coin between his fingers before tossing it in the air, catching it on top of his hand.
His pale blue eyes glinted as he uncovered the coin, facing tails up. In an effort to contain his amusement his tongue poked the inside of his cheek as his eyes flicked up to Abe.
“A deal is a deal.” Abe coughed, adjusting the collar of his coat, clenching his jaw.
Tommy nodded in acknowledgement as his face cast aglow from the flame of his cigarette. Behind the orange glare you could faintly make out the edge of his lips tugging into a smirk.
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Expensive shoes crunched lightly against the gravel of Thomas Shelby’s driveway as you exited your lift. Your breath hitched in nervousness as the car rolled away behind you, disappearing into the darkness.
With a few hesitant steps you made contact with the door, knocking lightly against the wood. After a few moments a maid named Frances let you in, granting your chilled limbs a satisfying warmth in the lit up foyer.
Her hands fell open out of habit, prepared for your coat. The fabric fell off your shoulders with the shrug of your arms, exposing your skin.
She smiled warmly as she received it, turning from you to place it on a rack. With her back to you, you were granted the privacy to unhide your expression. The heaviness of shame dragged the corners of your mouth into a frown.
She turned to you, attentive with her posture and eyes. “Are you here to see Charlie? A sitter perhaps?” Her brows raised in a sort of put on friendliness.
You blinked, thumbing the beads hanging off your dress. “N-no,” you replied shyly, lifting your eyes to meet hers. “I’m here to see Thomas Shelby.”
Her warm expression melted at the realization, the falling of her lips communicated an unspoken sympathy.
You took in a breath, shaky with anticipation. “Might you direct me to his room?”
“Right, of course.” She shook her head in embarrassment, forcing a smile and guiding you with an extended arm.
As you followed behind her and up the stairs, your eyes flicked over the many paintings on the walls. A blonde woman caught your eye. She was beautiful; framed in a circle of moonlight pouring through a nearby window. Your neck craned, following her eyes, as they did you grew nauseous.
“It’s just down the hall there dear,” The maid directed with a pointed finger, dissolving your trance.
Your eyes scanned over the many doors, stopping at one furthest down the hall. An orange glow spread from under the door, illuminating a path on the embroidered carpet.
“Thank you.” You murmured, keeping your eyes down, and starting down the vacant hall.
She hummed as she departed, disappearing carefully down the stairs.
Hesitant steps carried you down the dark corridor. The shaking of your breath broke the stillness of the air as you grew closer to your fate. A throbbing commenced in your head as you stopped, hovering inches from the door.
Black shadows moved at your feet, indicating activity on the other side. Swallowing thickly, you raised your fist to hover against the wood. With a heavy breath you knocked lightly, 2 times. A stirring of bed sheets came through the door, making you freeze.
“Come in.” a masculine voice called out, increasing your heart rate.
With his instruction, you turned the knob, twisting it’s cool handle and pushing it open with a creak. Candlelight lit up his figure as you entered the room.
Your chest rose as your eyes flicked over his shirtless form, sprawled under white bed sheets with a drink in his outstretched arm. He was otherworldly. His taut chest was covered in ripples of muscle, decorated with a tattoo. His firm forearms twitched slightly as he thumbed the glass in his hand. Your posture stiffened as you closed the door behind you, not removing your eyes from him.
“So you’re Gold’s daughter eh?” He asked, although already knowing the answer. His eyes hungrily scanned your body as he awaited a response.
“Y-yes.” You subconsciously played with the hem of your dress as his piercing blue eyes drank you in.
“What’s your name?” The bed springs squeaked as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, reaching to sit his drink on the nightstand.
Your breath hitched at the quiet thud against the wood. “Y/n, sir.”
He was quiet for a moment, suppressing a groan at your pet name. “That’s a lovely name.”
Your eyes wandered to his shifting hips as he neared you, growing taller with every step. The thin white fabric of his boxers scarcely hid the print of his length.
“Y/n.” He repeated to himself, admiring you with parted lips. Your attention moved to him as your name dripped off his tongue. In closeness you could smell his cologne, almost taste it.
I’m curiosity he extended a finger out to brush your cheek, tracing your soft, youthful skin.
The contact made your face burn, unfamiliar with the feeling of a man’s touch.
He pulled away in surprise, studying you with furrowed brows.
His gaze was dominant, powerful, making you feel small and submissive in his presence. His proximity was arousing, close enough to feel his body heat warming yours.
“Are you a virgin?” His voice was low and gravely, making your stomach sink.
You couldn’t help your eyes from watering, both in embarrassment and fear. “Y-yes sir.”
“Fuck.” He groaned, clenching his jaw.
You shifted your weight on each foot, unsure if he was aroused or regretful.
“I’ve never taken a man Mr. Shelby.” With wide, innocent eyes you studied his face. His captivating crystal eyes, his prominent cheek bones, then down to his pink, plump lips, glistening with saliva as he pulled his bottom lip into his teeth.
You mimicked him subconsciously, growing in desire as you studied his masculine features.
His eyes met yours making you gasp softly.
Without warning he closed the gap between you, capturing your mouth in his.
The impact pushed you back slightly, if not for his hand on your back you would have stumbled over.
His breath fanned your cheek as his lips hungrily caressed yours, sucking at your mouth with his.
Your heart pounded with adrenaline, both in arousal and fear.
Your neck craned as you clumsily kissed him back, steadying yourself with your fingers against his shifting jaw.
He groaned at your touch, pulling away from you with a pop. Your eyes fluttered open at his retreat, finding his lust blown pupils, glistening in the amber light.
His hand slid up your back in eagerness, though not rushed, reaching for the top zipper. The feeling of his hands on your body send chills down your skin.
Your dress loosened as he pulled down, nearly exposing your chest if not for your hand catching the falling fabric.
“Wait..” your voice trembled, blinking in fear. His fingers loosened from the zipper at your protest.
“It’s just,” you breathed in, chewing your lip as to not grow upset, “I’m afraid.”
In amusement his mouth curled into a half smile, exposing his teeth, intrigued by your innocence.
Don’t worry love,” he leaned into your ear, muttering lowly with a gravely tone, “I’ve got the best cock in England.”
There wasn’t sarcastic tone in his voice, rather a seriousness, a confidence that rolled off his tongue. The thought made your stomach twist.
“Let me see you.”
You obliged, knowing it was a command and not a suggestion. Slowly, your hand lifted from your chest, allowing the gown the fall down your body.
It hit the floor with a soft thud, exposing your youthful figure. A chill raised on your skin at your bareness, causing you to shiver slightly.
He pulled back from your ear, taking time to admire you. His mouth fell agape as he took you in. Your slender shoulders, narrow hips, and pink nipples, erect in the cool air.
“Christ.”
Instinctually you covered yourself, hiding your breasts and core with trembling hands.
Your couldn’t face him, instead finding your gaze on the floor, watching your feet shift against the velvety carpet.
He shook his head, stepping towards you, bumping into your arms with his abdomen.
Your head tilted at the new angle, finding him looking down at you past his nose. “Don’t hide from me love.”
Your skin warmed as his large hands grasped your wrists, making your heart pound as he easily pulled them from your body.
“I need to fuck that little cunt.” He breathed to himself, exploring his hands up your skin, leaving goosebumps in their place.
Anticipating his cock inside of you made your stomach twist in knots.
His hands stopped at your shoulders, making you stumble backwards as he maneuvered you to the bed. The wood frame met your heels as you met the edge.
“Lay back love,” the force of his hands gently pushed you backwards, lowering you onto the mattress.
You sucked in a breath as the soft comforter swallowed your small frame, leaving you sprawled open. His eyes flicked over you with a predatory gaze, clenching his jaw in arousal as he scanned your body, ready to receive him. Your hair spread underneath you, rippling in soft waves across his sheets.
He worked his boxers down with his thumb, causing your chest to rise as he shuffled the fabric down his thighs.
A patch of dark hair exposed itself at the movement, before finally revealing his half hard cock, bobbing towards his toned abdomen.
Your lips parted in intrigue as he fisted himself a few times, growing hard as his thick fingers stimulated his reddened head.
He let out a withheld breath, dipping the mattress with his weight as he crawled on top of you, trapping you in with his outstretched arms.
Your heart was pounding at a dizzying pace as he closed the space between you. His body heat evaporated his scent, cool with lingering cigarette smoke and whiskey. You breathed him in, foreign to the musk of a man.
“I’ll take good care of you love,” he reassured, pulling your attention to him with a hand in your hair. “don’t worry..” he spoke against your lips, pulling you in for a long kiss.
Your eyes fell closed at the contact. His breath fanned your cheek as he tasted you, groaning lowly as he worked his soft lips against yours.
Imagining his skill made your thighs clench, knowing the amount of women he has been with.
Your squirming under him caught his attention, causing him to break the kiss, hovering inches from your face.
“Are you ready?” He asked, scanning over your face with an eagerness in his turquoise blue eyes.
“I have to be.” You mumbled in an uncertain tone, chewing the inside of your cheek.
He let out a heavy breath as he diverted his eyes from you, reaching for his length. You watched him attentively as he grasped himself, lining up with your open legs.
His other hand pinned down your thighs, making you stuck in a breath as he spread your soft flesh with his firm fingers.
With knit brows he pushed himself into your entrance, making you both gasp.
You fisted the sheets at the unfamiliar pressure, growing in intensity.
“Fuck…” He groaned as he worked into you, stretching out your tight walls with his thick cock.
You whimpered in pain as he buried himself inside of you, not stopping until his thighs touched yours.
He pulled out slightly, making your breath hitch as your insides burned.
The sheets wrestled as he changed positions, resting on his elbows to close the gap between you. His length bumped further into you, making you clench around him.
“Mr. Shelby.. I- I can’t..” you whimpered, writhing under him, looking to ease the feeling of fullness.
“Shh..” he soothed, hovering against your ear “It’ll feel good love, I promise.” His lips met your cheek softly, making you let out a breath.
With a concentration in his brow he pulled out slowly, making you gasp, empty and clenching around nothing.
His thick traps impeded your view, only giving you access to his shifting jaw and taut chest pressing into yours.
He plunged into you again with the bucking of hips, quicker this time, forcing himself inside of you.
You squeaked at the movement, feeling a pressure in your walls as he claimed you.
He began a steady rhythm, chasing pleasure with shaky breaths as he rocked in and out of you at a quick pace.
Your eyes squint shut as he stimulated you, sheathing you with his cock. The hair of his thighs tickled yours as he pounded in and out of you, rocking the bed.
He groaned lowly as you squeezed him, and began to pick up his intensity, harshly colliding with your body.
“Oh fuck..” he groaned with knit brows, fucking you hard. “Good girl, squeeze me like that.”
His praise withdrew a whimper from your throat, encouraging you to slide your hands over his back. Your fingers explored the muscles of his shoulders, shifting with his movements.
The continuous intrusion of his length nudged a spot inside of you, making your toes curl.
“Mr. Shelby..” you whined, holding onto his shifting shoulders for leverage. His body was warm and tough with muscle.
Your sounds encouraged him, and he rutted into you harder, repeatedly hitting that spot inside of you, sending bursts of pleasure down your legs.
Your nails dug into his flesh subconsciously, kneading his skin damp with sweat. He groaned, aroused by the pain of your nails in his flesh.
His breathing labored as he fucked you, fanning your face as his forehead fell against yours. You were spilling in arousal, squelching with his every movement.
Rapid breaths escaped your parted lips. Chasing the feeling, you arched your back, bumping into his chest. His sweat covered skin rubbed against yours as he fucked you.
“Are you close?”
Numb with pleasure your head nodded, unable to form words.
“Good girl..” he praised breathlessly, “good girl..” He rocked into you forcefully, moving your body back and forth on the mattress.
“I’m gonna-“ you paused, stunned by a wave of pleasure from his calculated thrusts, “Mr. Shelby..” your whimpered, helpless as your muscles tensed underneath him.
“Come for me sweetheart,” he panted, burying his head in your neck, “come for me.” His deep gravely voice pulled you over the edge.
“Oh fuck!” You yelped, convulsing as waves of pleasure wrecked through your body.
Your eyes squeezed shut in euphoria, mouthing incoherent words as he fucked you through your high, murmuring against your skin.
He moaned deeply as your spasming walls squeezed his length, making his pace waver for a moment.
“Fuck..” you moaned, wrestling the sheets with your squirming.
He didn’t stop, relentlessly fucking your overstimulated entrance with his thick length.
“Mr. Shelby.. it’s too much..” your nails dug into his back in pain.
“I’m almost there love,” he panted, red in the face as he neared his high.
His length continued to pry into you, deeper and harder as his desperation grew.
You squirmed instinctively, pulling yourself away from his cock.
He intercepted your resistance with a firm hand sliding up your throat. His grasp caught the breath in your lungs, making your eyes water.
“Fuck.. stay put love..” he groaned lowly, nudging his nose against your neck as he rutted in and out of you.
Your eyelids drooped at the pressure, lazily following the shifting muscles in his back.
“Ahhh..” he groaned deeply, flexing his core against yours. “Oh fuck…”
He came undone at last, emptying himself into you with a loud groan. “Christ..” he cursed with an open mouth, bucking his hips against yours as his warm seed filled you up.
His grasp tightened slightly as he tensed, unleashing a tear down your cheek and onto his hand.
His pace slowed to shallow rocking, as he came down from his high. Once satisfied, he pulled out with a slick wet noise, making your thighs shake.
His hand released from your throat as he caught his breath, lifting his head from yours to hover above you. His forehand fell against yours in exhaustion, leaving a bead of sweat on your face.
Without saying a word he leaned in, kissing your damp skin, removing the wetness with his lips.
You clenched your jaw, trying best to keep your emotions as bay as you turned your head from him, softly sniffling.
He pulled away from you, rolling to his back with a satisfied sigh as he reached for a cigarette on the nightstand.
While he was occupied you sat up slightly, pulling the covers over your exposed limbs.
As you did so your eyes caught a glimpse of red on the sheets. They wandered to your open thighs, widening at the sight of smeared blood.
You held a hand to you face, blinking in shock and turning to Tommy, “There’s blood!”
Your hand on his forearm turned his attention to you. “It’s okay love,” he took a drag of his cigarette, inhaling a fair amount of smoke, “It’s normal.” His free hand reached for yours, smoothing over your knuckles with his thumb as he let out a puff of smoke through pursed lips.
His touch unleashed a flood of tears from your eyes, which you quickly covered with your hand as they trickled down your face.
You sucked in short breaths, crying against your hand as your body shook.
“Eh, what’s the matter?” He asked softly, reaching for you.
You shook your head, refusing to speak the truth, instead letting it out in the form of tears, forming dark circles on his sheets.
“Talk to me love,” His voice held a tone of sincerity as he kept his eyes to your frame. “Please.”
You took in a shaky breath, swiping your face before letting down your hand. “I’m just a body to you.”
Your gaze was emotionless, frozen on the yellow wallpaper in front of you, dancing over each flower design.
With enough courage you turned your head to face him, pulling your watery eyes to his. “I don’t want to just be a body Thomas.”
The sound of his name on your lips made him freeze. It was vulnerable. Desperate. His cold expression fell, replacing with one of sympathy and warmth in the flicking of his eyes.
“You’re not.” He shook his head, putting his cigarette down and smoothing his other hand over your arm. You leaned into his touch, sucking in a shaky breath through your mouth and rolling onto his chest.
“You’re not just a body to me love.” He spoke against your hair, smoothing over your back with firm strokes.
You nestled against his chest, focusing on the sounds of his shallow breathing against your ear, slowing your tears.
“I’ll make you more than that.”
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dbnightingale24 · 2 months
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Already Won Me Over Sneak Peak
A Follow Up 'Love Me Or Just Let Me Go'
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Sorry for the delay! I meant to post this yesterday, but I got real fuckin' picky about certain things, because I'm ✨annoying✨ ANYWAY, this is just a snippet of what's to come, and I hope you all enjoy it! You all get heartbreaking smut, cause tomorrow is Valentine's Day!! 🙃🙃
Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), Swearing, Heartbreak, Arguing, Violence, Angst, Uhh...I think that's it for now.
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I do not give permission/consent for my works/stories to be posted elsewhere. I do not condone this kind of behavior or relationship, this is for entertainment purposes only.
~~
“We need to get in and out of your apartment. Only grab what’s important,” he tells you softly as he turns on the car.
“Yeah,” you agree softly.
That was the extent of the conversation you two had. 
You’ve never had such a quiet car ride with Jonathan, and you hate it. You hate this. Besides the fact that almost everyone you know and love has been attacked tonight, and you feel like it’s your fault, you also don’t know what the fuck to do about you and Jonathan. After everything that was said tonight, all of the tears and begging, he still can’t just fucking say it. You can’t help but grow tired of all of this shit. Yeah, it sucks that he feels like shit, but you’re not doing this to him.
He’s doing it to the both of you.
“Jonathan,” you sigh as he gets out of the car along with you, “I can go up on my-”
“You can get as far away from me as you want when we get home. For now, I’m coming up with you. I don’t want to argue anymore-”
“Fine, lets just get it over with,” you mutter, quickly making your way inside, Jonathan following behind you with a low groan as he sighs.
Sigh, sigh, sigh. Yeah well, this part isn’t on you. 
“Is there anything I shouldn’t bring?” you question, unlocking your door.
“You only need to bring-”
“Welcome home,” a man with a thick accent greets as soon as you open your door, his fist already traveling towards your face, but you duck just in time.
“I haven’t had a bad enough day?!” you growl, head butting the much larger man in the chest, forcing him inside. 
“I love a bitch who can fight,” the man laughs darkly, pushing you aside.
“Get out of my HOUSE!” you scream, picking up the vase of flowers Jonathan bought you hours ago and throwing them at the man, missing him by millimeters.
“This is barely a shoe box,” the man laughs, pulling out his revolver.
“Well, that’s not very nice, now is it?” Jonathan growls, grabbing one of the bar stools and smashing the man over the back of his head with it. 
That has you freezing on the spot. You’ve never seen Jonathan’s violence, and you’re not sure how you feel about it now that you have.
“You break into her home,” Jonathan continues roughly, still beating the man with stool as it creaks and cracks, “try to hurt her, and then insult her home?! Where are your manners, Ivan?! HUH?!” he roars, slamming the wooden stool against the countertop, breaking off one of its legs. “Who else has been running around Gotham doing Boris’ dirty work?! Y/N’s Mom, her Uncle, her friends?! Who did it?!”
You glance over and see that the door is still open; you run to close it, knowing that it’s bound to get bloodier and more violent. 
“I asked you a fucking question!” Jonathan broods, hitting the man with the broken stool leg.
“Boris warned you,” the man coughs out while trying to fend off Jonathan, wildly flailing his arms as he rolls side to side on the floor like a broken metronome.
“And I warned Boris! The fuck ups you all make are on you! It’s not my fucking job to fix it! You go after someone I care about and you think there won’t be any fucking repercussions?! I warned all of you and now look!”
“Dr. Crane-”
“Dr. Crane isn’t in right now!” he snarls, striking the guy across the face again before tossing the the bloody stool leg aside. “Now, apologize to the woman.” The man spits out a tooth, groaning to himself.
“Boris just wants-”
“APOLOGIZE!” Jonathan roars.
“I’m-I’m sorry, Ma’am,” the man sobs at you.
“Good boy,” Jonathan praises as he pulls out his .45. “I think I’ll make you the first casualty in Boris’ army.”
“Dr. Crane-” his words feebly teeter from his bleeding mouth.
You cover your mouth as you yelp at the steely explosive bang from the gun shot and take a step back. This day is really taking a toll on you. 
He stands up straight, breathing heavy, before turning to look at you. His hair is wild, half of his face is splattered with blood. His eyes are still and wild. You’re not sure how to feel about it, but you can’t help the arousal pooling between your legs at his feral state in the soft glow of the night.
“Pack while I run through his pockets,” he tells you after a moment, pushing back his messy hair.
“You should shower,” you tell him weakly, looking from him to Ivan’s lifeless body.
“Y/N-”
“You have clothes here. You walking out there covered in his blood is a bad look. You should shower and I’ll call the cops-”
“Don’t. I’ll take care of it,” he interrupts, tone still authoritative as he tries to calm down. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
“No, no, I’m fine. I promise,” you answer calmly as a soft tapping on your door has you jumping.
“Y/N? Are you okay dear?” your elderly neighbor, Miss Francine, asks softly, and a soft chuckle leaves your mouth before you can stop it.
Are you okay? That’s laughable right now.
“I’m alright, Miss Francine. You need to get back to your room, it’s not safe in the hallway at this hour.”
“Do you need me to call someone? I’m not afraid of these thugs!” she says defiantly, and you laugh to yourself softly.
You love her so much.
“No no, I have someone here with me. I’m safe, I promise.”
“Alright dear. Good night,” she calls softly and you hear her footsteps retreating, soon followed by her door opening and closing.
“Pack,” Jonathan repeats sternly.
“Shower,” you tell him softly, giving Ivan’s dead body one last look before going into your room. 
You look around and you can’t decide where to begin. Your mind can’t and won’t slow down. You’ve just seen Jonathan murder someone, and he murdered that person for you. How the fuck is it easier for him to murder someone than fucking admitting that he loves someone? Even when he was beating the man to death, all he could say was, ‘someone I care about’.
Yeah, that’s the last thing you should be thinking about right now, but if there’s ever a time for an accidental ‘I love you’, that would be it. Damn, maybe there is a part of you that’s a self absorbed little shit, but you’re not about to feel ashamed about it. Not after all that’s happened tonight.
You hear the shower turn on, and your mind is instantly reminded of something else. 
No matter what he can or won’t say, he still killed someone. He killed them without hesitation and he did it for you. In that moment, all that mattered was keeping you safe, and he had no thought for his self care at all. His only focus was you and keeping you safe.
Plus, truth be told, him looking so unhinged and wild? A total turn on for you that you weren’t expecting at all. 
No, none of this is ideal and you still don’t know what the hell you’re gonna do about the both of you, but you know that you’re lonely and in pain. There’s only one person you want right now, and he’s the last person you should want right now. 
God damn him for making you love him so damn much.
You slowly take off your dress and strapless bra, at war with yourself about whether or not you should go through with this, but the part of you that needs a release wins. Sure, you could have a drink or a smoke, but it won’t be enough. Besides, it’s not like you won’t be drinking till you’re numb in the face for the next few weeks anyways. No, it’s not the best solution, but you’re done trying to be smart and logical for the moment. You’ve been at war with yourself since all of this started, and you’re just so damn tired of thinking. 
You just want to feel something other than sadness and pain.
“Y/N, you should be...Y/N,” Jonathan trails off as you get in the shower with him.
“I can pack after,” you tell him softly, looking him over, fingers lightly tracing over his faded scars. “You didn’t have to attack that man-”
“I wasn’t gonna let him hurt you.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can, but I want-need to take care of you.”
“Why?”
“Because I care about you,” he huffs, and you can hear him at war with himself.
Well, fuck it. If he isn’t gonna say it, you will. Again.
“I love you-”
“Sweetheart-”
“I love you, Jonathan. I don’t care if you don’t wanna hear it, I don’t care if you don’t think you deserve it, and I don’t care if you don’t want me to say it. It’s a fucking fact. I love you and I’ve never loved anyone this much, and I know I never will again, no matter what happens. I am so painfully in love with you, Jonathan Crane. You may be afraid of your feelings, but I’m not afraid of mine,” you tell him without fear or trepidation in your heart.
If this is the end of the both of you, you may as well lay all your cards on the table. 
“Y/N...,” he sobs, looking away from you, and your heart breaks.
He truly is broken by all of this.
You gently grab his face and turn it towards you, “You tell me you care about me? Then show me. Show me just how much you care,” you beg softly, tears in your eyes. 
Just like that, he’s gone for you.
He’s crashing his lips into yours as he presses you against the wet shower tiles, your back squishing against it. It feels like Heaven. Moaning into the kiss, you grind yourself against him while his hands travel down your sides softly; almost as if he’s afraid to touch you, as if he feels like he doesn’t deserve it.
“Show me, Jonathan,” you breathe against his lips, begging him to give you a reason to fight for more. “Show me how much you care. Show me how much I mean to you.”
This time, he grips your thighs and hoists you up, no hesitation present as you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist while he trails kisses down your neck, desperate to cover every inch of you in them.
“Dr. Crane,” you whimper, running your fingers through his hair as one of his hands starts massaging one of your breasts.
“No...please don’t...call me by my name, I need to hear you say it,” he cries shamefully.
At least you can believe it’s more than a filthy hook up now.
“Jonathan...Jonathan I need to feel you,” you pant, eyes clenching shut at the feel of his fingers kneading your nipple between his fingertips. “I need you!” “I don’t deserve you,” he groans, slowly sliding you down on him.
“Shit!” you cry, still not used to the way he so easily pulls you apart. 
“I’m so sorry,” he husks, slowly moving within you, kissing along your neck, “I ruined everything and I’m sorry!”
“Just wanna be with you right now. Tired...tired of thinking,” you moan, focusing your attention back on him, which was extremely hard since he kept- “OH MY GOD! That’s the...fuck! Right there, don’t stop!”
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he marvels, his grip on you getting tighter as he helps you chase your release.
“I love you,” you sigh, feeling your core tightening.
“Y/N-”
“I love you,” you repeat, not relenting because of his guilt for his past.
It’s not like you ever meant to fall in love, or that you even wanted to you, but you did. For all your planning, and hoping for it to be a one time thing, it hasn’t panned out that way at all. 
“God, you’re clenching me so fucking tight, sweetheart,” he grunts, his movements becoming quicker as you dig your nails into his shoulders, “feels so good being inside of you...getting lost in you.”
“Fuck! Jonathan!”
“Never knew someone could ever love me like you do,” he continues with a breathless pant, changing his angle just a bit to hit that spot deep within you.
“Oh fuck!”
“Never knew how much I needed to be loved by you!”
“Jonathan...I can’t...I can’t...oh shit!”
“C’mon baby! Give it to me! I wanna feel your love!”
“YES!” you cry out, your release washing over you as you tighten your legs around Jonathan for fear of falling if you don’t.
The bastard may have broken your heart, but he’s the closest you’ll ever get to Heaven.
“You okay, baby?” he asks softly, tenderly stoking your face .
All you can do is nod.
“Do you need more?”
Once again, all you can do is nod. 
He’s quick to turn off the shower, keeping his hold on you tight as gets out of the shower. He walks you both to the bedroom, and your eyes land on Ivan’s dead body. God, of all the ways you thought this night was going to end, this wasn’t at all what you had in mind. 
“I want you on your back,” you tell him as he goes to lay you down.
You can tell that you’ve caught him off guard. He does what you want nonetheless, and lays back on the bed, looking at you with eyes that are filled with adoration and guilt. Usually you’re not on top unless he puts you up there. That’s rare because he likes hearing the screams that leave your mouth when he fucks you hard from behind, or watch as the euphoria overtakes you when he gives you an orgasm.
You place your hands on his chest and start to ride him slowly, your hips grinding against him, mouth slightly agape at the feel of the new angle and how deep he is.
“Touch me, Jonathan,” you beg pathetically, starting to pick up your pace once you’ve adjusted to him. “I want to feel you everywhere I can.”
“Sweetheart-”
“Jonathan, please. I just need you right now,” you practically sob.
There’s a dead man laying in your living room. Your best friend may never walk again. Someone tried to kill your Mother. Your ‘Uncle’ is laid up in the hospital and his wife has been killed. The man responsible for turning your life upside down in the best and worst ways during all this can’t even tell you that he loves you. 
If all you can have is temporary bliss that only he can provide, then you’ll take it and beg for him to show you the things he’s ashamed to show. Besides, who knows when you two will have each other like this again.
If ever.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful, baby,” he groans, his hands slowly traveling up your torso.
“You think so?” you question, your damp hair falling in front of your face as you look down at him, biting your bottom lip in a weak attempt to quiet your moans as he starts massaging your breasts.
No, having sex on your bed soaking wet probably isn’t the best idea, but it’s not like you’ll be sleeping in it for a while.
“Fuck yeah...GOD!” he groans as you roll your hips against his.
“Shit!”
“Gotta have you on top of me more often,” he husks, sitting up and wrapping his arms around you, “I love watching you take whatever you want from me. You can take whatever you need, baby. You can always take what you need from me,” he promises as he grips your ass.
“Oh fuck!”
“Bring yourself on my cock like the good girl you are, baby. I know you can fucking do it,” he encourages, licking his thumb before bringing it between the two of you, rubbing your most sensitive bud. 
“Jonathan!”
“I know you wanna cum for me, baby. I know you wanna make a mess all over me, don’t you, baby?”
“Fuuu-yes!”
“Cause you’re my good girl?” “Jonathan!”
“Say it, baby. Tell me you’re my good girl!”
“Fuck yes!” you cry out, lulling your head back as you squirt hard, floating out of your own body for just a moment. 
“My messy little princess,” he praises with a grunt.
In one swift move, you’re on your back and Jonathan is fucking into you relentlessly.
“Shit!”
“You’re always gonna be my girl, baby. I know I’m a mess right now, but I will fix this. I’ll make this right,” he promises, holding himself up as he cradles your face with the other hand.
Your eyes sting as you hold back tears at his words, because you honestly don’t know what the fuck to do. You don’t know what happens after all of this gets settled. 
“I don’t fucking deserve you,” he pants as his movements become erratic, “but I need you. I need you so damn much, baby!”
“Too...it’s too much,” you sob as you feel that knot in your core tighten.
“Give it to me, give me everything,” he begs breathlessly, his grip on neck getting tighter.
“JONATHAN!” you scream out, tears spilling over from the pleasure coursing through your body and the pain in your heart as you squirt hard. One hand grips him and the other grips the bed sheets.
“My perfect princess,” he groans as he spills inside of you, his hand almost giving out.
As he rides out both of your highs, the room is filled with nothing but your silent sobs and heavy breathing between the both of you. 
Not a word is said as he pulls out and you both start to get dressed. He’s first to exit as soon as he’s dressed, and you can only assume that he instantly goes to search through Ivan’s pockets. You take your time packing up what you deem necessary. You grab all of your photos, wanting to make sure that no one else gets hurt because of your...whatever with Jonathan. You pack up your laptop, Mr. Fin, the hideous ash tray Jonathan got you in Hawaii, a few books, some comfort clothes, and basic hair supplies. You give your room a once over, fighting back more tears, before making your way out to see Jonathan sitting at the kitchen island and drinking bourbon.
“Do you have everything?” he asks, not even looking in your direction as he swirls his drink around in the glass.
“Just have to grab makeup and hair products out of-”
“I can buy you more. It’s not important.”
“Then yes, I guess I have everything,” you snap, voice edging between anger and bitterness. “Do you have everything.” “Everything that I need,” he shrugs, downing the rest of his drink before putting it in the sink. “Lets go.”
You’re quick to grab the photo of your birthday party by the door on your way out, and shut the door behind you, walking past Jonathan in an attempt to get the elevator as fast as you can.
Your mind is racing and you just wanna lay down.
The entire elevator ride down, Jonathan is tapping his foot and fidgeting with his fingers. He’s mad at himself. You know that he thinks he revealed too much of himself to you, and that makes you even madder at him. He’s already broken your heart, what the hell does he think will happen if he’s actually sweet to you during intimacy? That you’ll go off and tell everyone in Gotham that he does, in fact, have a soul and a good heart?
It’s not like anyone would believe you anyway.
The second you two are back inside his house, you’re grabbing the things you left on the floor earlier, and racing up the steps. You’re more than happy to stay locked away in a room, but the only issue is that you don’t know any other room besides Jonathan’s.
“Just take my room,” he encourages softly as he makes his way up the steps. 
“I can stay in another-”
“None of the other rooms have been slept in, in years. My room is the only room ready, and the only one I feel comfortable having you in.”
“I don’t want to be around you.”
“Lucky for you, I won’t be sleeping much.”
“When you do-”
“I know my house better than you. I’ll stay far away from you, just take my damn room,” he instructs before turning and racing back down the steps and disappearing around a corner. 
You stick your tongue out in the direction he went before turning and making your way into his room, closing the door behind you. As you drop your bags, you look around and let out a deep breath.
Welcome to your new life for the next few weeks.
~~
74 notes · View notes
reidiot · 9 months
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knowing the historical facts and then going to see oppenheimer felt as if i was literally watching fan fiction
255 notes · View notes
fkmarrycill · 5 months
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One Shot: Pre-Gaming
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(Pic added after the original post because it totally fits the vibe of the story. 😌)
1191 words, 🔞 for that smut
Notes:
Can you tell I'm really, really concerned about how our man will survive awards season? ☺️ I'm not sure if he'll attend any of the shows (really hope he does), or if he has any rituals for situations like this, but this is where my imagination took me. 😈
This is pure fiction, and in this scenario, Cillian is in a relationship, but not married and no kids. I read Cillian as an intelligent, decent, sometimes awkward guy who is also capable of being spicy when needed or desired. 😌
It's M/F dynamic, and I often keep the lady leads generic in description so more people can imagine along. 😉
Thanks for reading! ❤️
Cillian had gone silent. His arms were crossed, and he was staring out the window. Maybe he saw the city cruise by, or maybe he was too lost in thought to notice; she couldn't tell. All she knew was that he was relaxed at the hotel, but as soon as the limo door shut, his mood had changed.
She'd had her hand on his thigh for the whole ride so far. That subtle reminder of her support wasn't enough for him, she realized, but she knew what would be.
“Cill?” She addressed him gently.
“Mmm?” He responded absentmindedly.
Definitely lost in thought. “You need to relax. I'm going to make you feel better before we get there. Would you like head, or a quickie? Neither is not an answer.”
“That obvious that I'm fucking nervous, eh?” He chuckled in spite of himself. “Of course, I would’ve rather stayed home, but…” He trailed off and watched her kneel before him and begin to unzip and lower his tuxedo pants.
“What?” She said in response to his quizzical expression. “I thought maybe this would help you decide.” She looked up at him and winked. At this moment, she was glad she'd chosen the little black lace number instead of the gown with the train. She'd be able to move more freely for him, and it would be harder to mess up the dress.
“Now, what’ll you have, Mr. Murphy?” She placed her hands on his thighs and caressed them softly.
He glanced at the closed partition between them and the driver, checked his watch, and a mischievous grin bloomed on his face. He leaned forward. “Looks like we have plenty of time. Hmmm… Film award nominees tend to get special treatment, isn't that right? Give me both, love. Your mouth first, then that irresistible cunt.”
“Spoken with the confidence of a winner, whether it's tonight or another night. It's coming, either way.”
“Just like me, in a matter of moments, thanks to you.” He tried and failed to stifle a laugh. “Christ, we sound like some dreadfully unimaginative 70s porn! Let's stop talking, before we turn each other off.”
“Excellent idea.”
Both of them laughed, partners in crime with the same sense of humor.
She gave him one last affectionate smile, then began to caress his thighs with long, soft strokes that made him shift on his seat. She traced the same path with her lips, on one thigh, then the other, nuzzling the expanses of skin.
He turned the volume up on the music, in anticipation of giving in to wherever she led him. She stretched herself higher and loomed over his lap, then tugged at his underwear. He shifted on the seat to help her efforts in removing her last barrier. He placed his hands on her head and squeezed softly, a gentle request for the warmth of her lips on his hardened, eager cock.
He groaned softly as her lips surrounded his girth and her hands connected with him, and he hissed, eyes shut tightly, when she teased the sensitive underside of his dick with her tongue.
His million-dollar face contorted–jaw clenched, brow furrowed, nostrils flared, full lips parted–as he savored her work. By then, she had taken more of him in, feasting on his length with her enthusiastic licking and sucking.
He began to grind his hips, arching into her mouth to feel her deeper and more intensely.
She loved seeing him like that, focused on the sensations, thoughts as far away as possible from cameras, paparazzi, and all the sequined and bow-tied cogs in the Hollywood machine–everyone they'd be unable to escape for hours once they left their mobile love nest. Giving him release was the least she could do for him. She was well aware of all the effort and sacrifice he put into his celebrated performance as Oppenheimer, and she thought he deserved to be in the right mood to enjoy his moment of recognition, win or lose.
She knew she was wet already, from the way her body throbbed in excitement. She had one more ace to play, one more thing to share that would push him past the point of no return. “I was going to surprise you later,” she murmured conspiratorially, “but this will give you something else to think about in your seat…”
He watched her through glazed, darkened eyes as she climbed into his lap, hiked her dress, and sank down on him, inch by inch.
“Holy fuck,” he gasped. “No fucking panties… Are you trying to kill me?”
“No, babe, I'm just trying to fill your head with good thoughts before we get there.” She rolled her body at a brisk pace and kissed him deeply.
He grasped her hips and overtook the pace of her thrusts, writhing against her in a controlled manner that made both of them wail. She rocked into him and edged closer to being completely undone.
One of his hands crept up to the small of her back, while the other meandered down her leg to find her clit, which he massaged the way she loved, ratcheting up her cries in the process.
Their rhythm quickened some more. A lock of his hair fell down, toward his eyes, and she brushed it back into place. She desperately wanted to clutch her hands in his hair, like she normally did, but quickly nixed the idea, remembering the effort that had gone into his sophisticated look. There'd be plenty of time later for reckless behavior, she thought–on the ride back to the hotel, or in the bed, regardless of whether they were celebrating or preparing to return to their usual pace of life.
“Oh, fuckkkk…” His breathing was shallow, and his face flushed as his eyes rolled back. “I'm gonna…”
“Me, too, baby,” she said, equally breathless. The tightness that had built up at her core gave way to waves of bliss, and moments later, Cillian tensed as his own climax tore through his body.
He held her in a tight hug and kissed the top of her head while they caught their breath.
After a while, she moaned contentedly and looked up at him. “Feeling better, Cill?”
“You have no idea, lass. Thank you.”
“Anytime, my dear, beautiful boyfriend.”
He kissed her softly, then looked at his watch. “We should be there soon, better get ourselves back together as best as we can.”
They scrambled to straighten up and return to their initial positions in the car.
“You know,” started Cillian, as they rounded the corner to the venue, “At some point tonight, when I can't stand it anymore, I'd love to steal away with you to a bathroom or somewhere else that we can be alone…”
“I like the way you think! But what if we get caught?” She gathered her purse and prepared to exit the limo.
“I think ecstatic award winner caught fucking his girlfriend will be much better for my brand,” he said with air quotes, “than those pics of me pissing on the side of the pub, don't you think?” He winked and kissed her passionately.
Before she could respond, he opened the car door and they emerged. They were quickly besieged by camera flashes, and the huge smiles on both their faces were real.
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look-at-the-soul · 26 days
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The Photoshoot-Part 49
Cillian Murphy series 2014, 2015
Thank you, Flor @justrainandcoffee for making this moodboard!My heart just can’t take how beautiful it is!
Cillian is away, busy with Peaky Blinders matters.
Word count: 3,204
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“So Cillian's flight is tomorrow right?” Isla asked her daughter as they reached the steps of her house.
“Yeah, we can drive him in the morning and then go and have brunch.” Yael proposed.
“I’d love to!” As they stopped so Scout could smell a bush, Isla noticed something else. “What’s the matter?”
Yael took a deep breath as she started to play with the leash in her hand.
“It’s everything with the adoption process, there are days where I try to be strong and positive and days where I don’t think I can’t do this.”
Isla wrapped her arms around her daughter instinctively, trying to comfort her.
“Baby, hang in there, don’t loose hope. I’m sure you’ll get good news soon.”
As they started moving, Yael looked up, trying to find some answers. “I swear I don’t want to sound like pessimist, but what if we don’t? What if this never moves forward?”
“Have you talked to Cillian about this?”
But her daughter shook her head.
“My sweet girl, I know this is hard… but I also know you’re the strongest woman I know. When you were a little girl you went through every surgery, every physical therapy you took and you were so brave.”
Tears blurred Yael’s eyes as she felt her mum’s hands caressed her arms. Back then you were my rock, you showed me I could be strong just like you. Now, Cillian is your rock, don’t leave him out.”
“You’ve been my rock too, I love you.” Yael expressed full of gratitude, wrapping her arms around her mother. “I’ll talk to him, or trust the process more likely.” She chuckled nervously.
“I’m sure you’ll be able to finish the process, it’s just a matter of time.”
“That’s the scariest part actually, but I know you’re right.”
Yael tried to leave her worries in each one of the steps of her home. Trying to focus on the blessings she already had.
Scout practically threw himself once he spotted Cillian, over excited to see him again.
“How was your walk?” He walked forwards to greet his wife with a quick peck on the lips.
“Great! We had a gorgeous sunset and Scout got to chase the birds.” Isla explained her son in law.
Cillian turned to look at his wife, to confirm his mother in law’s statement.
“It was breathtaking, take a look.” Yael supported her Mum’s words by showing her husband the pictures she took.
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“Wowzers.” It looked like the scene belonged to a painting. “I was talking to my brother and was thinking of doing some improvised dinner? What do you think? Shall we go somewhere or…”
Yael took a long swing of water, but with her free hand, she made a sign that was okay with his plan.
“I think it’d be better if we make something and have dinner here, you need to get up early for your flight.”
“Yeah? Grand!”
“Why don’t you call Orla? Perhaps she’s free as well.” Yael proposed, loving the excitement in his eyes.
“Well and what are we having for dinner?” Isla asked, ready to help.
“We ate hamburgers this week.” Yael bit her lip.
Then, she saw the look in her husband’s eyes.
“What are you thinking of?” She wriggled her eyebrows at him, waiting for an answer.
“Mexican. I really want tacos.”
Just the mere thought had the three of them drooling.
Yael took her purse and walked off into her husbands arms. “We’ll go quickly to the store to get everything.”
“Don’t forget the chips for the guacamole.” Cillian made sure Isla was out of sight to pat playfully his wife’s bum.
“We’ll be right back. If you need anything else call me.”
Whislt a short trip to the grocery store to get everything for dinner, Yael made sure to add a couple of protein bars for Cillian and several snacks to have at home for her and her Mother.
As they were strolling the hallways of the store to go to the checkout, Yael stopped on her tracks when she noticed an elderly woman trying to reach an item on one of the top shelves, before she could react, a young boy approached and with all the familiarity of the world, encouraged her to step back, a tender smile on his face.
The cashier smiled at Yael and her mother as they were ready to the check out.
“That’s her grandson.” The cashier explained, as if she could read their minds. “She lost her husband a couple of months ago and they used to come together every week to get their groceries. Now her grandson moved in with her and they get just as what’s on the list that the grandpa wrote down.”
Yael gave her Mum a long look. She felt her heart swelling.
“That’s adorable.” Isla agreed touched by the boy’s gesture.
“I know right? Good people still exist.” The cashier added finishing with their items.
“I think it speaks volumes about him, huh?” Yael threw the pair another look as the grandma and grandson walked past them.
“He’s so young and yet he made the choice to go back in town to take care of her.”
Swiping her credit card to pay, Yael thought of her own grandmother and all the moments they shared together at the cottage in the Lake District. “Bless him. Thank you.”
“Have a nice day.” Added Isla taking some of the bags.
“I obviously don’t know that boy’s parent but you’ve t agree with me, this isn’t only because of him, I think he probably saw that kind of selflessness in his parents.”
“Yes and no.” Isla differed, catching Yael’s attention. “Sometimes unfortunately the example is so wrong that you’ve no other option but do the completely opposite. Sometimes people show you just what you don’t want to be.”
Just like her own father, Yael thought.
On their way back, they talked about not knowing what that woman might been through, but either way it was admirable. A few blocks away from her house, Yael got a phone call and asked her Mum to put her phone on speaker.
“Yael Lieberman?” The voice called. She went by Murphy now, but some people still called her that.
“How can I help you?”
“Vogue UK, I’m Naomi Wilson PR.” Yael’s heart started beating faster. “We’d like to know if you could take the photos for the December cover.”
“Yes, of course.”
She was informed they weren’t allowed to reveal the name of the celebrity yet, but they’d arrange all the expenses on her behalf for the travel.
“Honey congratulations!”
Cillian and Scout joined them in the garage as they were hugging. “Why are we so happy?” He immediately thought they got news from the adoption process.
And Yael shared the details of the last call she got from the magazine.
About an hour later, Pad arrived with his wife Elise, and their son, Connor.
“You’re with the beard again?” Cillian teased his brother.
“Lost a bet, that’s why.” His brother replied. “Ugh diaper.”
Elise waved at them and went into another room to change it, but first she let them know Pad was a disaster with the nappy and she preferred to do it her way.
“You brought the avocados right?” Cillian asked his brother in a low voice, Yael was very specific about that ingredient.
“I hope four is enough.”
“The more avocado, the better!” Yael shouted from the pantry, joining them a moment later with a couple of colorful bowls. “That smells nice.”
Cillian took over with the beef once more, while Isla got the sodas from the refrigerator. “Look at you! Stop growing.” She got a cooing sound from Pad’s son.
“He’s heavier now, wants to climb everywhere.”
“And eat everything.” Then looking at Scout he warned; “watch out buddy, he’s gonna grab your tail and bite it like there’s no tomorrow.”
Luckily, Scout stormed off the kitchen when he heard the doorbell.
“Oh you’re glowing!” Yael greeted Orla with a hug. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She blushed giving her sister in law another hug.
Then Yael turned to to her niece. “I got some chips for you, they’re in the pantry.”
“Thanks auntie!”
As the Murphy siblings gathered around the kitchen, Cillian rushed to their reading room to take a phone call, there had been an issue with his check-in so he’d have to stop by the counter earlier.
“It’s good to see you Isla.” Orla chatted. “Hey, maybe we can call Mum and go for lunch one of these days.”
“That’d be nice.” Yael agreed taking a bite of the beef, she chopped peppers and onion in case anyone wanted to add to their tacos.
“There’s a new place downtown and it’s ugh amazing.” Elise joined the conversation.
Yael looked at Paiddy’s wife, surprisingly they moved in sync. As the girls shared more details for their plans, Cillian’s brother shared a few comments with him about something related to dinner.
“Sienna why don’t you give your aunt the present you got for her?” Orla encouraged her daughter.
The child’s face lit up and she rushed to retrieve her mother’s purse.
“We went shopping the other day, and as I was looking for a decorative bowl, Sienna found something.” She explained with a wink.
As Paidy’s son tried to reach the food in the bowl, Yael grabbed him playfully, spinning him around but being extra careful to not make a blunt movement.
“What are you trying to get? Hmm? You want tacos too?” Yael changed the child to her opposite hip and started playing with Connor and Sienna. “Okay little Miss, what did you get for me?”
Wrapped in a paper bag, she offered it to her and the kid smiled proudly as she waited excitedly for her aunt to see. Yael played along, making big gestures of surprise and suspense.
Both of them giggling happily as their aunt held out a jumbo mug with the word auntie written al around in capital letters, and it was enough to melt Yael’s heart. “Oh Sienna! This is so sweet… I love you, you know that right?”
Leaving the mug carefully on the counter, Yael wrapped her free arm around her niece just as Cillian was coming back from his call. Finding Yael holding Connor and giving Sienna instructions to help with the tacos. And the scene was enough to ignite something within his heart, something bigger than he had ever experienced.
For an instant, he couldn’t help but think how wonderful his wife would be as a Mum, and he wished from the deepest part of his heart that they would be able to finish the adoption process.
****
Cillian took his wallet and phone from the table, he had been for hours at the wardrobe fitting. Endless shirts, ties, handcuffs, peak caps and suits, all made for him with the best fabric around, the quality of not only the materials, but each piece as well was beyond this world.
“Can I help you with anything else?” Someone offered.
He politely declined the offer, feeling his shoulders tense, hands inside the pockets of his jeans. Staring back at himself in the mirror, he released the tension of his jaw and relaxed his posture automatically after noticing he had been standing as Tommy Shelby.
“Cillian.” Steven’s voice caught his attention. “Are you done here?”
“Yeah.” Cillian nodded, not being able to avoid one more look at his reflection. There was no coming back now, the transformation was taking place on the outside with the wardrobe and now the haircut -not so bold this time at least-, but it was happening on the inside as well.
The thoughts, the looks, the posture. Tommy Shelby was taking over little by little, word by word from the script that he couldn’t help it but take a step back to allow this enigmatic character re-emerge.
“You’re so quiet. Everything alright?” Steven asked as they took the elevator towards the production offices.
“Yeah, just… thinking.” He trialed off.
It was as if he was hosting a battle between who he really was and Thomas Shelby. It might sound crazy, but that’s the way he felt.
“So I got to write around the ideas you gave me, I actually love it… would you like to add anything else?”
“No, just the Institution part we talked about.” Cillian explained. “I don’t know how further you wanna go with that, I just want to ask you to involve this part of the charity…” he made a pause and looked towards the window. “There’s a side of Tommy that he genuinely cares you know? Despite the heartbreak, the pain. It’s right there deep inside.”
Steven nodded profusely. Catching what Cillian meant and he already had intertwined a couple of ideas based on that.
“To me your point of view is needed because of this exactly.” Steve pointed at him from the other side of the desk. “You know Tommy better than anyone else.”
“Better than you even?” Cillian cocked an eyebrow.
“That’s what I’m talking about.” Steven praised, he was not surprised at all by the quick change between Cillian and Tommy, he knew what he was doing. “What do you think about the intimate scenes?”
“We’ll you can’t have this type of man without sex, right?” Cillian toyed with a string on his jeans.
He wanted to run his hand through his hair but it was gone now. “Do what you’ve to do.” They e already discussed how openly some of them would be.
“You got serious with the training this season.”
Cillian laughed awkwardly. He was used to his wife’s teasing him for getting beefy for the role but someone else noticing it and pointing it out made him want to hide somewhere.
“Do you realize you’re pushing not only Tommy but me to the limit with all of this?”
Tommy would go through an intense internal turmoil after some events. And the whole bunch would put him under such pressure that he was afraid to explode any minute. The character itself was a challenge, a completely different mindset, the total opposite of how he’d react.
Steven leaned back on his chair and with a smile of satisfaction he replied; “yes, but you can do that and even more.”
And now it was time for Cillian to chuckle.
But deep down, he felt genuinely proud to know Steve trusted him so openly.
“I got a couple of books about the Russians, it’s interesting how no one suspected a thing back then.” He wanted to be well documented about the facts that happened in real life. To him a script was much more than just lines to memorize, he needed to feel a conection, understand the characters motives. And getting around to understand the reason why it was part of the series, could help him to bring more realism into his character.
And now it would be slightly different as a producer of the series. He had a major power decision, he’d have a more active role in making choices.
“I’ve a couple of songs I’d like you to hear.” Cillian stated and Steven knew that this meeting would be longer than he expected.
*
“Hey babe, sorry I didn’t hear my phone.” Cillian apologized as his wife answered.
“It’s fine, I thought you were busy.” Even though he couldn’t see her, he knew she was smiling. “How did it go?”
“Grand, grand,” he tried to move a few steps away from the noise on the street. “Tomorrow I’m going to check a few locations with Steve.”
“Oh that’s nice, send me photos if you can.”
“Will do. I called you this morning.”
“I slept in, we did actually.” Yael chuckled. “Scout and I cuddled because you weren’t around to wake us up.”
“Ah, now I won’t let you sleep.”
Yael laughed. “No, I mean you start the shower and then downstairs to make breakfast, well you know.”
“I get it, I’ll tiptoe next time.” Cillian offered. “To let the princess sleep.”
Enjoying the teasing, Yael thanked him for being so thoughtful.
“Ya, how’s everything over there?” He shifted his weight from one foot to another.
“I took Mum to an exhibition downtown and it was incredible, spent most of the day window shopping and now I’m organizing some photos to deliver them tomorrow.”
“You’re not going to see that fan of yours, right?” He teased. Started calling the weirdo her fan.
“Goodness no, I delivered those via mailing.” She chuckled and the sound of her laugh made his body tingle. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too.” He laughed and smiled like a silly young boy in love. “Miss you bossing around.”
“I’m not bossy.” Yael defended.
“Before I left the hotel this morning, I kept thinking phone, wallet, key.” He mimicked her voice. He tried in an lousy attempt to remind himself of what she’d say before he walked out the room.
“But that’s not being bossy, you sometimes forget something.”
“Of course you’re not, I’m only messing.”
“I really want to see you already, the house is not the same without you… last night I slept with my Mum in the guest bedroom and Scout joined us.”
“Soon babe, I’ll be back before you know it.”
“I’ll cook you a huge steak.”
“Oof that sounds tempting.” Cillian eyed Steven from the corner of his eye. “I gotta go, I’m having dinner with Steven and then he’ll drive me to the hotel.”
“Say hello from me, love you!” Yael requested before he replied he loved her back and hang up.
Patting his shoulder, Steven asked; “How’s the Mrs?”
“Good, her Mum is visiting so she’s busy.”
“Happy to hear that, she’s lovely.”
With a nod, Cillian followed him inside the restaurant, pulling his beanie a little to cover his head fully.
“Never been here before.”
Steven stood up to greet someone while Cillian looked at the menu.
“The owner it’s a friend of mine since high school.” The producer explained.
“Woah that’s a long road, but it’s nice you stayed in touch.”
“He’s a good pal, had a tough road but he always kept a good spirit.”
After ordering for their meals, Cillian exchanged a bit of information of his screen off time with Steven, they talked about timeframe but were careful to not talk about very specific parts of the upcoming season in case anyone could listen.
“May I ask how’s the adoption process going?”
With a sigh, Cillian leaned back. “Slow but it keeps moving, my mother in law has an interview tomorrow and my parents already did theirs.”
“Are they taking the news well?” He questioned.
“Better than I expected, you know there’s still this stigma around adoption,” Cillian shook his head, “I firmly believe these kids deserve a loving and safe environment. The struggle it’s been hard because there’s all this burocratice around that makes people feel disappointed.”
Steven shared his own point of view about it, not so different of his own thoughts.
“If I can do anything to help, don’t hesitate.”
“Thanks man, I appreciate the offer. We just have to wait and hope for the best.”
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Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy this series, remember your comments it’s what keeps this alive!
And I’m working on the Tommy Shelby playlist of all the songs that’s been mentioned in the story 🥰✨
Tag list: @lyarr24 @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @winchestergirl22 @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @strayrockette @forbidden-forest-witch @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @blondie-22 @thenattitude @moral-terpitude @babaohhhriley @queenshelby @ange-thoughts @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel (cant tag) @rangerelik @already-broken144 @alessioayla @paprikabadger @dolllol2405 @conversationpits @itsilvermorny @lafell @imichelle-l-rigby @yrli8 @cutecurly-hair @cillspropertea @hyperfixationsonshuffle @sydneyyyya (can’t tag) @abbymcguire @shelundeadxxxx @elk96 @pono-pura-vida @lovemissyhoneybee @slimeantha (can’t tag) @kmc1989 @ironpen
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seleneshelby · 2 years
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This is a collage I decided to do on my own for @look-at-the-soul @thats-what-cill-said story The Photoshoot.
@gypsy-girl-08 @cillmequick
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ganymede-princess · 1 year
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Entanglement Theory | Robert Capa (Sunshine)
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Part 2
ship: robert capa X fem!oc
warnings: capa is mildly suicidal but it's basically tooth-rotting fluff for the most part, capa has a bruise from his fight with mace, i try (and fail) to explain several pieces of theoretical physics through dialogue despite having only a layman's understanding of the concepts.
summary: capa's insomnia inadvertently causes an impromptu date.
word count: 3263
a/n: i know almost nothing about physics, but I do try to explore some of the concepts in the narrative here, so when I inevitably get things painfully wrong, please do correct me. AlsoI know that Searle is the medic as well as the psych officer, but you're going to have to bear with me here. I sort of think of Doc as a bit of an all rounder on board: part gardener, part mechanic, part cook. Basically a spare who helps keep everything running smoothly until it's time to treat illness and injuries. Also, yes I made that GIF, that's why it's so horrible and decayed.
written by @ganymede-princess
The floor lights burst in and out of life like tiny stars as I tip-toe down the hall. Icarus tracks my movements closely, giving enough light to see my feet and enough darkness to stay half asleep. The dream is still fresh in my mind, almost more real than the floor beneath my feet. It was frightening, but I wish I could salvage that feeling somehow. The weightlessness and unbearable brightness, the heat and pain so strangely pleasurable, like cleaning corruption from a wound. I wonder if it would truly be so magnificent to die that way. I know I should doubt it- that death is grotesque in truth- but a piece of me still clings to the sense of belonging I felt as my hands turned to dust and burned away into the cosmos. I focus my eyes on the floor lights as they appear and try to bring the vision back into my mind. The lights pale in comparison to the unbending beauty of the sun's surface, but I still see the orange ripples of the source of all life swimming in the tiny artificial effigies. The details of the dream are slipping out of my grasp, back into the shadows of my subconscious when I collide with something warm and hard. I stumble back, sucking in a breath and wheel back blindly to punch my assailant.
"Hey, hey!" A low, gravelly voice commands me, and my arms lock in a vice grip. "Ah- calm down! Icarus, floor lights up."
White light floods the hallway and I come back into myself to see that I'm trapped in the arms of Robert Capa. God help me, he's so cute. His hair is ruffled up and his brow is creased with concern as he sets his nebulous blue eyes on me, locking me into their gravity field.
"What's the matter with you, Doc?"
"Ca-Capa... I'm sorry." I will myself to pull away from him, but time and space seem to stand still. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"No, but you were going to." He huffs.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"
"Relax. What are you doing up anyway?"
"I-" As he frowns, it feels as if every pair of eyes in the universe are scrutinising me. "I was just... Taking a walk."
"Where?" A smirk tugs at the corner of his lip like a fishhook.
"Nowhere."
"Funny. That's exactly where I'm going." He lets me out of his grasp and pushes past me to walk a few paces down the hall, then looks over his shoulder. "Are you coming?"
He gives me a rare smile of encouragement, and as I walk obediently towards him I realise he could make me do anything he wanted with just that smile.
As the primary medic on board the Icarus 2, I am essentially the mother of my crewmates. I kiss their grazes and fuss over them all. I listen to them cry and offer what comfort I can before I move them to the more calculated psychiatric care of Searle. It is my job to love these people as if they are my own family, and I do sincerely. I must treat everyone with equal kindness and empathy, never picking favourites or singling out scapegoats, but when I look at Robert Capa, my training is sucked out of the airlock. No matter how much I try to deny it to myself, I know that his safety and happiness takes absolute precedence in my mind. He is my first thought in the morning and the last one at night. Speaking to him is the only thing that brings me peace, even more than the Earth Room. We are a handful of humans traversing the impossibly massive vacuum of space; we should all be losing our minds, but I feel safe as long as I am close to Capa. Even so, dreams can be more frightening than reality. I want to reach for him somehow and ask him to take on the futile task of protecting me from my own subconscious.
My throat dries up and my cheeks are burning as I walk close beside him, my hand inches from his. I could just slip my fingers in between his. Surreptitious. He might not even notice. What might be an insignificant gesture to him would serve to anchor me to reality. I'm not sure if it's my logical side or simply fear, but I stay my hand and follow beside him as he marches through the hallways, fleet footed and silent.
"So, um," My voice wavers. "Where are we going?"
"Almost there." Capa inclines his head toward me and the ghost of a smile passes over his face.
We wind through a few more hallways until we reach the Payload unit. Capa fiddles with the keypad.
"Why are we here?"
He keeps his eyes trained on the keypad, but quirks an eyebrow and bites the inside of his cheek, his expression somewhere between amused and annoyed.
"Primary Payload entrance unlocked." Icarus lowers the intercom volume and isolates her voice to only this corridor so the rest of the crew may sleep undisturbed.
"Mind yourself." Capa warns as he releases the door and steps inside.
As I pad in behind him, it seems as if a whole world is opening up before me. I have only been inside the Payload a handful of times, and the sheer size of the place awes me every time. Panels upon panels stretching for miles in every direction, each one containing enough nuclear matter to fuel an atomic bomb.
"Beautiful, isn't she?" All the wonder I feel is written on Capa's face.
All I can do is nod. There is a power here that none of us can comprehend, maybe not even Capa himself. I follow him as he traverses the scaffolding that runs a few stories above the ground until he sits down, dangling his feet over the railing. I have only ever seen the Payload from ground level, and the huge scope of the glossy black room is all the more evident from up high.
"It's big in here." I say it just to fill the silence.
Capa huffs, eyes alight with amusement. I sit close beside him and try to focus on the view.
"Fifty billion tonnes of fissile material." Capa muses. "Every scrap of accessible nuclear fuel in our solar system is in this room. The Stellar Bomb. Payload. Humanity's final hail Mary. Doesn't it make you feel tiny?"
Though I have heard every detail hundreds of times before, Capa's voice breathes life into the story that every human in the planetary system thinks about in every waking moment.
"I feel tiny next to you." I admit. "You are the Payload. You're the only person in the universe who can pull off the detonation."
"No pressure, huh?" Capa squints.
"None at all." I bump him with my elbow. "But I didn't mean to freak you out or-"
"I've heard it all before, don't worry."
With nothing to say, we fall into silence again. I drop my legs over the edge and kick them like a child on a swing. I tap his foot with mine earning a breathy laugh, and for a minute or two we tussle as we both try to keep our feet on top. He eventually wins by pushing his ankle underneath mine and locking my foot down under his. My heart races so hard that I'm afraid Icarus might ask me why I'm exercising outside of the designated gym room.
"How's your bruise?"
"Hmmph." Capa lifts his shirt to reveal a yellowing bruise on his ribs. "Hurts when I poke it, but it's alright."
"Why would you poke it?" I giggle, trying hard to keep the redness off my cheeks.
"'Cause its there." He side-eyes me. "Anyway, you should have seen the other guy."
"I did! Not a scratch on him."
"That was on purpose." He closes his eyes and presses his hands together as if in prayer. "I'm completely zen in the face of violent aggression."
"Maybe you just can't fight."
"I can fight, I assure you." He cracks his knuckles and eyes me in amusement. "I'd drop you in an instant."
"Sure, you would." I nudge him.
"You wanna go?"
In a rare moment of confidence, I sling an arm around his shoulder and ruffle his long, velvety hair. He tickles my sides in response with dexterous fingers.
"C-C-Capa stop tha-at before I fall off!" I gasp between giggles.
"I've got you." His grip on me tightens, but he keeps tickling. "Now, say 'yes, Doctor Capa, you can fight.'"
"Ye-yes, Capa, you can fi-ight!"
"Doctor Capa!" He grumbles. "I have a PhD, you know."
"Yes, you can fight, D-doctor Capa."
"Say I'm the most handsome physicist in the solar system."
"You're the mo-host handsome physi- physicist in the- the solar system!"
"Good girl." He quits tickling but keeps a strong hold of me while I catch my breath.
"Dr Bigshot PhD," I say weakly. "You weaselled that out of me!"
"You didn't put up much of a fight." He growls in a voice like black treacle, and I notice how close we have gotten.
My eyes trace the dark stubble growing into the hollow of his cheeks, then his heavy, sleepy eyes, his dicky little sideburns, and finally his pink seashell lips. I feel him studying me too, and I can't help but lean closer as he rubs circles on my waist. A husky breath escapes his lips, and he relinquishes his hold on me. Leaning away, he shakes his head as if to un-stick an annoying thought. A strange, guilty sickness grips me. What did I do wrong?
"You wanna see something cool?" He slaps his hands on his knees and stands up, offering me a hand.
I nod dumbly and accept his help, just happy to touch him. Capa leads me to the control room, and goes through the familiar motions of setting up the control panel. I sit down on one of the swivel chairs and watch his slow, methodical movements. I have noticed before that Capa always thinks things through this way, doing everything by the letter. He has the same slow, practiced approach to relationships, after all it took until nearly the end of our training for Capa to really feel like a friend to myself and the rest of the crew.
"Icarus, show me the lights." Capa presses the test button.
"Yes Capa, initiating Payload visual test."
"C'mere, look." Capa pulls me close to him and points out a tiny white star blossoming in the corner of the room. "See, that's a projection of what the Payload will look like when it's detonated. It's called Cherenkov light."
"I've heard of that." I admit as the lights begin to spread and dance across the room. "How does it work?"
"It's quite fascinating, really." Capa murmurs, the wonder clear in his voice. "The light is caused by charged particles travelling through a dielectric medium faster than the speed of light. That's how powerful a nuclear reaction is. It can fire out particles faster than light itself can travel."
"It's beautiful." The lights wink and swirl together like a glowing algal bloom.
"It is. When this thing detonates and all the stars come out, there will be so much energy all in one place that time and space will smear together. For a few seconds, everything will be unquantifiable. The impossible will be possible. You could light a candle in a fish tank, live a lifetime in a second... stand, unharmed, on the surface of the sun."
"It's almost a shame that we won't get to see it up close."
"I want to. I'd die to."
"You better not." The lights begin to fade, and I look up at Capa. "I'd miss you."
"Yeah?" Capa almost smiles.
"Yeah. What's the point in any of this if we can't enjoy the sunshine together back home?"
"You don't think we'll all be sick of each other by the end of it all?"
"Well... I'm already pretty sick of Harvey, but-"
A hissing laugh escapes from Capa, and he covers his face in embarrassment.
"I think even Harvey's sick of himself by now." He snickers
"We should be careful, he might be listening."
"Oh no, he might be." He chuckles and guides me to sit with him on the lounge at the back of the room. In the quiet darkness, Capa's eyes catch the luminance of the control panel lights.
"Where were you going when we ran into each other?"
"I couldn't get to sleep. There was just... so much going through my head with the comms fuck-up, and..." He sighs. "I've just had a lot on my mind."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not yet." Capa chews his lip. "What about you? Where were you going?"
"Oh um," I flush. "I had a dream and it frightened me. I... I guess I was just clearing my head. Can I tell you about it?"
"Sure." He shifts in his seat to face me better, and tucks his feet up under him.
"It- it was us. We were floating together in space. We weren't wearing equipment, but it was warm and we could breathe. Everything was so still, and there were stars everywhere all around us, just like the Payload test. I thought it was beautiful, and I wanted to tell you but it was like I forgot how to talk. I thought you looked like a star too, so maybe that's why I forgot, I don't know."
"Like a star?"
"Yes, you... I don't know. You were you, but amplified. A-anyway, I noticed that one of the stars was getting bigger, and bigger, and then I realised we were falling towards it. We kept falling and falling so fast that we had to hold hands, or we would have lost each other, and the stars smeared out into white lines, but I wasn't scared, and eventually we passed all these planets and I realised we were falling into the sun. We just kept getting closer and closer to it, and I could see more and more of it until it was all I could see in any direction. It was so burning hot but I couldn't die. Eventually we caught right up to it, and it was right there in front of us and we reached out to touch it, but then I woke up so I don't know what would have happened."
"That's incredible."
"It was. It was really strange, though. It was just like Searle said, the light becomes you, and because you were there too, it was like we became each other."
"Do you get why I would die to see the Payload detonate up close? Not even Icarus knows what will happen when she blows. It'll be a big bang on a small scale. It's entirely possible your dream could occur under those circumstances. You could touch the sun."
"No?" I squint, baffled at the urgency of his tone. "No. I- I don't want to die like that."
"It would be beautiful, Doc, but I won't die with the Payload." He is burning with intensity. "Not if you forbid it."
"Were you planning on it?" I laugh, hoping he is joking.
For a moment, he stares into the middle distance, focused on something only he can see. His eyes are blue supergiants; stars that burn hotter and brighter than any other, and die young as they collapse under their own weight and burst out into brilliant explosions of light.
"Yes." He finally says, coming back into himself. "For a while now, I... I've planned to detonate the Payload from inside, so I can see for myself what it's really like."
"Why?" My voice cracks in despair.
"No human being has ever seen such a thing, or ever will again. What is returning to a frozen earth worth compared to seeing the impossible?"
"Everything, Capa!" I want to shake him. "You'll get to see the ice melt. You'll get to see the world as it was when we were children."
"So will everyone."
"Exactly! We'll see it happen together."
He smiles in a ghostly far-off way.
"Forbid me to do it, and I won't."
"I forbid it." The words come as easy as breathing.
Capa nods, a shadow of disappointment passing over his face for a second before it melts into acceptance.
"Okay."
"I'm sorry." I do not fully understand why I apologise.
"Don't be. You just saved a life."
"Why did you give me the choice?"
"What do you know about entanglement theory?"
"What does that have to do with-"
"What do you know about entanglement theory?"
"Very little."
"So, basically, when placed under a huge amount of energy, such as during the Big Bang, a pair of particles can take on some shared property, and even if one of those particles ends up light years away from the other one, you can still tell that the two are entangled because they still share the same property." Capa is alight and animated in a way that only physics can make him. "Now imagine those atoms spend 13 billion years apart, until eventually they end up on earth, one as part of a person in the United States, and one as a person in Australia, and these particles can sense each other. They're calling out to each other, and it effects the people they are a part of. They make them both interested in science, they make them both adrenaline junkies with fucking god complexes who think it'll be fun to get fired into the sun in a big steel stick insect. And, eventually, the two people find each other. Well, one of them doesn't really know how to act for a while, but the other one is always good to him until he realises what he really wants, and hopefully, one day soon, she might let him kiss her and the two entangled particles can touch again."
"My god." I whisper. He can't be serious, can he? "That's some cheesy shit, Capa."
"Yeah, I know." He buries his face in his hands.
"You don't really believe that do you?"
"No." He grins. "No, I'm talking out of my ass here. But it's a good story, huh?"
"I'm impressed. But I need to know something. Capa, if I tell you now that I don't feel the same, will you throw yourself into the sun?"
"No." Capa's face creases in pain. "I already promised you I wouldn't."
"Good."
I lay my lips on his, as gently as I would hold a rose petal between my fingers. Everything he is melts into me, and I am completely and deliciously his, forever. We are simultaneously binary stars, gravitationally bound to one another in orbit, and a pair of insignificant creatures trapped in the void of space by the hubris of our species. Our hands move across every inch of each other in the ancient, desperate hunger that humans have felt for centuries. The hunger to be closer, even when two bodies are pressed flush against each other, the hunger remains. It is as if there is something deep inside each of us that pines to be touched by the other, something that wants to burst out of us and be a new kind of naked. Everything I have felt for Capa since the start of our training boils out of me and into the kiss. I never want to be without him.
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forgottenpeakywriter · 6 months
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Here's a short story for ya'll.
@runnning-outof-time @shynovelist @weirdworldofwinnie @gridmouse86 @hanawrites404 @no-fooking-fighting @mrkdvidal1989 @queenshelby @creativepawsworld @happysparklingshadows @tommyshelbywhore
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Sibling prompt ideas?
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Friends and Foes,
I am in a little bit of a rut when it comes to prompt ideas. I'm interested in working on a sibling/ step-sibling fic for any of Cillian's characters. Idk why that dynamic is easier for me to write than any other, so I'm sticking to it. Please drop any and all prompt ideas below or send them in anonymously.
A million thanks. X
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jomarch-wannabe · 11 months
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Good girl (Priest!Tommy x Fem!Reader)
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Pairing: Priest Tommy Shelby x Female Reader
Synopsis: Reader confesses her sins, admitting her fantasies about men
Warnings: Smut 🔞(dubcon, implied age gap (reader is over 18), coercion, degradation, swearing, size kink, corruption, oral (m receiving), daddy kink, choking, virginity loss, p in v sex, rough sex, no plot honestly, just porn)
Author's note: Tommy being a priest is an amusing concept considering how far he is from holy, so I wanted to experiment with this idea
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You cleared your throat, shuffling on the edge of the wooden bench as the masculine voice behind the screen asked once more, “What sins have you committed?”
You took in a heavy breath, searching for the courage to speak. The silence of the booth amplified the thumping of your heart, pounding in your ears.
“I- I’m not a good girl.” Your face burned at the confession. “I only pretend to be.”
“Not a good girl, eh?” He asked curiously, urging you on.
“No.” You stated shortly with a shame in your voice, subconsciously fidgeting your fingers.
“How's that?”
You swallowed thickly, knowing his question was more of a command than an option to answer.
“I.. have impure thoughts.” You admitted, peeling the skin of your fingers as the pressure began to sink in. “Fantasies.. about men.”
“Fantasies?”
“You know, sexual fantasies. I’ve never done anything with a man. I suppose it- it keeps me sane.”
Your eyes watered as heat rose to your cheeks, no doubt a result of the embarrassment creeping up your skin.
“Describe to me your fantasies.” He urged with a low intrigued voice, scarcely hiding his thick Birmingham accent.
Your heart was pounding at the proposition, shaking your small voice, “Um, well I-I imagine an older man, much older, using me.” You took in a breath, eyes flicking in the darkness as you imagined the scenario. “Dominating me.” Your stomach sank with guilt but your body betrayed you, unconsciously squeezing your thighs together.
He hummed in acknowledgment, doing little for your nerves with such an objective response.
“I want a man to fuck me-“ a lump rose in your throat as you imagined the scene playing in your head. Your fingers pulled at the pendant around your neck, searching for air, “Hard.”
A heavy exhale left your lips as you finished, awaiting his response with a dizzying pounding in your head. Through the other side of the booth you could faintly make out a groan.
“Is that all?” You asked, searching the darkness with curious eyes, growing uncomfortable with the silence as you chewed the inside of your lip.
As your eyes shifted in the dark enclosure the curtain in front of you slid open. The metal rings scraped against the pole harshly, causing you to flinch.
A wide and muscular frame came into view, shifting on both feet. As your eyes followed up the man’s torso, a pair of turquoise eyes met yours, staring intensely through his brows.
“Would you like to make that a reality?” He asked with a voice dripping in lust, evidently turned on by the growing tent in his black trousers.
“I-“ you swallowed, shrinking into the wooden bench. “What?” Your head spun with confusion and fear as you replayed his offer.
His lips parted as he began to speak, curling slightly on the end into an amused smirk, “Want to be fucked by an older man?”
The deep baritone of his voice made your cheeks burn. He could sense your neediness. Knew what made you tick. As he inched towards you, you felt increasingly weak under his dominant gaze.
“I- I don’t know how.” You stuttered, heart pounding as your eyes blinked nervously.
“Don’t worry love, I’ll teach ya.” He whispered in a reassuring tone, extending a finger out to trace the side of your cheek.
The contact sent chills down your skin as he explored his finger down, stopping at your chin. The push of his digit tilted your head up with ease, having you completely at his mercy.
With parted lips you watched him, awaiting his next move with fear and intrigue. Heavy footsteps dragged against the floor as he closed the space between you, darkening the already dim space with his wide frame. The proximity wafted his scent towards you, cool, with a musk of cigarettes and whiskey. You enjoyed breathing him in, foreign to the smell of a man.
Your neck craned at his height, submitting to the wanting in his eyes; the desire behind his turquoise orbs.
“How about I fuck that dirty mouth of yours? Hmm?” He hummed in a low, gravely tone, chewing his lip at the thought of taking your innocence.
Your core throbbed with heat as his offer. Imagining him using you. Knowing that even if you wanted to run there was no escape now. You were his.
“Would you like that whore?” He leered, poking the inside of his cheek as he scanned your squirming thighs.
You nodded weakly in his touch, overtaken by lust and anticipation. There was something in the roughness of his voice, an assertiveness that commanded every limb in your body to obey.
“Alright,” he turned his head back, scanning the vacant cathedral. “I’ll show you how it’s done yea?”
With the coast clear he wasted no time lifting his hands from your face, eagerly working his zipper down. The tendons in his fingers twitched with his movements. His hands were large and firm, the thought of them touching you made your stomach sink.
The fabric of his trousers fell softly to the floor with his guidance, followed by his white cotton boxers.
Your eyelids fluttered as you took in a breath, studying his manhood, swollen in need inches from your face. He was thick and long, bigger than you imagined.
The sight of you beneath him made him throb. Your wide, innocent eyes boring into his. The softness of your thighs under your twitching fingers. The cross pendant clutching to your heaving chest. How he wanted his hands around your throat, to see you whimper and cry. To corrupt you. To use you. He couldn’t deny himself the pleasure of fisting his cock a few times, taking you in as he ejected small pearls of precum from his tip.
“Alright,” He groaned in anticipation, backing you into the wall as he inched forward. “Be a good girl and open your mouth for me yea?”
You hesitated for a moment, taking in short breaths as his length stood before of you, before temptation took over, parting your lips slowly, giving him access to your wet entrance.
The rough pads of his fingertips raised goosebumps on the back of your neck as his fisted a hand through your hair. The sensation made you involuntarily whimper.
His self control vanished at your noises, and without hesitation pushed himself into your mouth, the force causing you to gag. He was heavy on your tongue, making you salivate quickly as your lips adjusted around him.
“Christ.” He cursed in pleasure, throwing his head back as your fingers squeezed his muscular thighs.
Instinctively you pulled back, but he had no remorse and tugged at your strands, holding you still for him.
“Don’t fight it love,” he breathed, mouth falling open in pleasure. “You feel so fucking good.” He moaned deeply as he began a steady rhythm, evoking wet gags from your throat.
Your eyes watered as he repeatedly nudged the back of your throat, causing you to moan around his length.
“Good girl- ah- good fucking girl.” He cursed with knit brows, pumping himself in and out of your squelching mouth.
A trail of saliva pooled down your chin at the intrusion, dripping on your chest.
“Fuck I’m close.” He grunted, grabbing hold of your head to pull you closer.
Your nose involuntarily nudged against his trimmed pubic hair as he fucked your face, chasing his release. Your eyes rolled upwards to the contortion in his face, his plump pink sex lips parted and groaning, to the flush in his cheeks. The sight made your thighs clench.
He treated you like an object to be used, paying no mind to your noises as he rapidly bucked his hips, pushing your head back against the wall.
“Fucking hell..” he groaned loudly as he came undone. The thick muscles of his thighs shook under your hands as he climaxed, unloaded ropes of cum into your mouth.
Your eyes squeezed shut as the foreign substance hit your tongue.
“Shit.” He rode out his high with shallow rocking, mouthing incoherent words.
Once satisfied he pulled out, leaving you gasping for air with a string of cum between your parted lips.
The sight alone could make him come again.
With wide watchful eyes you followed his finger as it traced the corner of your mouth, gathering his ejaculation with his thumb. As you caught your breath your lips parted open, granting him the opportunity to push it inside, smearing his cum over your tongue. You moaned at the intrusion, submitting to him with wide eyes as you wrapped your lips around his thumb.
After licking it clean you opened your mouth, freeing his digit with a pop.
“Want me to fuck that cunt of yours next?” He suggested with a cocky smirk, chest rising as he scanned your squirming legs.
“Please.” You begged with a whine, squirming in search of friction.
He took your neediness as an opportunity and grasped your shoulders, easily maneuvering you to the ground. Your breath fanned the cool floor as it made contact with your skin. Impatiently, your head turned back to watch him, but his firm hand intercepted your plans, pinning you down by your upper back.
Your eyes darted in anticipation as his hands raked up your thighs, sending chills down your spine.
“Please..” A desperate moan left your lips, you were throbbing at the thought of him using you, having his weight on top of you.
His hands explored underneath your skirt, hooking a finger in your panties and eagerly shuffling them down your skin. The cool air swept over you at the bareness, exposing your glistening folds.
“Christ.” He swallowed as he thumbed your folds with thick fingers, lustfully exploring your untouched body. “So fucking wet for me love.”
Your eyes rolled back at the contact, reveling in the sensation of fingers that weren’t your own.
“Please fuck me..” you whined against the floor, grinding your hips against his hands as your patience ran out.
Your noises were enough to send him over the edge; with a shaky exhale he lined himself up, pushing into your entrance in one firm thrust.
“Oh fuck!” You squeaked with squinted eyes, digging your nails into the floor as he stretched your clenching walls.
He grunted behind you as you sucked him in, stimulating his already swollen head.
“You’re so big- ah” Your eyes squinted shut at his girth, burning at the unfamiliar pressure.
“It’ll feel good love, be patient.” He spoke against your ear as he leaned down, pressing his chest into your back. The new position made your eyes roll back, stimulating your clit against the floor with his weight. His hand slid on the back of your neck for leverage, squeezing his rough fingers around your pulsing veins. The pressure made you whimper.
He began an eager rhythm, flexing his core against the skin of your back, fanning your ear with heavy breaths. His deep, erotic moans sent shivers down your skin, knowing you were causing them.
“Fuck..” He groaned loudly, lips falling open in pleasure as he rutted in and out of you, coating himself in your arousal.
His force was intense, creating waves of intense pleasure building in your core. Every thrust was powerful and skilled, making your toes curl.
You let out a muffled moan, stifled by the pressure of his hand around your neck.
The vacant cathedral echoed with the sound of his skin slapping against yours, pulling wet squelching noises as your arousal spilled out of you, claiming you.
“Gonna come love..” he panted, sloppily bucking his hips against your ass.
“Please come.. come inside of me..” you whimpered, feeling your walls contract with pleasure as you neared your own climax.
Your desperate noise sent him over the edge. With a loud groan he released inside of you, tightening his hold of your neck as waves of pleasure washed over him.
The feeling of his warm arousal inside of you triggered your own release. Reaching your climax, your body tensed up underneath him, overwhelmed as waves of intense euphoria crashed over you, rendering you speechless, moaning incoherent words.
“Christ.” He sucked in a breath through his teeth, overstimulated by your spasming walls.
“Oh my god..” you moaned, holding onto the feeling with squeezing thighs.
As your breathing leveled he pulled out of you with a slick wet noise, holding himself up with a hand on your lower back. You subconsciously squeezed at the feeling of emptiness, pushing his seed down your folds.
“Holy shit,” he gasped at the sight, admiring you with lust blown pupils. His hold on your neck loosened, granting you air as he grasped your waist, turning you on your back to face him.
Your heart pounded in intimidation as he towered above you, core flexing with his breath. He admired you with dark eyes, glinting with a predatory satisfaction.
The space closed between you as he leaned down, brushing his lips against yours. He took in a breath as he captured your mouth in his, tasting himself on your swollen lips.
You moaned against him, lifting a hand to explore his chiseled jaw shifting against your fingers.
Your chest rose as you submitted to him, colliding your tongue against his, so close you were breathing the same air.
His mouth shifted around yours, releasing your tongue and peppering small kisses against your lips.
Once satisfied he pulled back, licking his lips before whispering, “Better tell me about your fantasies more eh?”
“Mhmm..” you nodded with wide doe eyes, pulling your bottom lip into your teeth.
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dbnightingale24 · 3 months
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First, I want to thank everyone who has read, reblogged, or supported my stories. It means more than I’ll ever be able to put into words, truly. Without you all, I wouldn’t feel confident in launching my Patreon page! I’ll still post fanfics, but I’ll also be taking requests, and posting original stories. I hope you all will follow along, and continue to enjoy my stories! Thank you so much; you’ve given me the confidence I needed to do this. I love you!
Here’s the link if you’d like to follow along:
https://www.patreon.com/user?u=113976020&utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator
(It’ll be more official soon!)
@fuckingbye @emerald-evans @autumnrose40 @thickania
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