#killick x reader

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

What I Want... | William Killick x fem!reader

summary: Elise is the daughter of an army surgeon who must learn to live with her father's new boarder, Officer William Killick. What begins as a childish crush quickly becomes deep-rooted resentment for the haughty young officer, but one night at dinner when Elise forces the men to listen to what she has to say, that resentment becomes something more once again.

warnings: Smut, misogyny, age-gap (19 & 26), unprotected sex, degrading talk, angst, fingering, oral (f receiving), semi-public.

word count: 5,061k

*edited 5/25/24- switched to 2nd person pronouns.

Say Yes To Heaven- Lana Del Ray 🎶

Mystery- Jesse Jo Stark 🎵

I'm back! Did you miss me? 💋

To start the story, you must imagine a country courtyard, a quaint country home outside of London. The house is small and built on the edge of the city, before the suburbs became a fairy tale destination for starter families. That house is home to a widower and his daughter, recovering from the shock of the Blitz. Even in the English countryside, the war could still be felt like vibrations through the ground. You could feel them too. The daughter of an army doctor, you grew up in a strict household reeking of repressed emotion. Your father was a widower and an emotionally unavailable army doctor, so you followed the typical protocol. You acted out in your teenage years, trying to make up for the hole your mother’s absence left in your home. By eighteen you were your own person, stronger and more independent. You tried to be completely normal, just like everyone else, because you didn’t want to be different. You rode your bike, borrowed books from the library, and painted your nails with red lacquer. You were just a girl, preparing to study away at university, when William Killick joined your household in the summer of ‘46. 

He was a boarder and a prestigious one at that. He was a decorated officer, brave, mature…handsome. 26 never looked so good on a man. At the beginning of the summer, William ignored your stares, your darting eyes, and nervous smiles. You were the last thing on his mind and who can blame him? Surviving the war took a toll on the man and manifested physically in his nightmares and tight jaw. The day he arrived, William had just a few belongings with him. One of which was a typewriter because he was set on writing about the war. Your father had invited him to stay for the summer, offering whatever assistance he needed to get back onto his feet. William took it cautiously, embarrassed to receive such enormous help from a man who had already saved his life once before. You, the doctor’s daughter, had been mentioned only once before, subtext in a telegram, barely important. After arriving two weeks before, it had become clear to William that you were to be his housemate and awkward teenage neighbor. 

William was not good with girls but he was great with women. Anyone below the age of twenty became alien. He didn’t know how to talk to them, so he didn’t. William would watch you from his bedroom window as you lounged in the backyard, dipping your feet into the deep fountain by the garden wall. You tossed and turned on the fountain’s surface, sunning yourself like a lizard. William would lick his lips and looked away, turning his attention to the keys of his typewriter. 

When you would come inside, your feet still wet from the fountain, you could hear the irritatingly familiar sound of typewriter keys. William’s fingers struck each tab fiercely with a precision that sounded like vengeance. You had hated it at first, fumming in your bedroom with a pillow pressed around your ears, but you found the sound comforting now. At night it reminded you that he was awake, watching, aware. You felt safe and found yourself falling asleep faster. You never told him this, however, you rarely talked to him at all. His stern-looking face and quiet demeanor was off putting and cautionary to a young woman. William had been there for only three weeks and you’d barely said one word to him at all. You watched him more and more, feeling a kernel of desire hardening in your chest. It was a girlish crush, something that entertained you when the long hours of summer bored you. 

You couldn’t help, however, to wonder if William ever looked out his window as you swung your shapely legs back and forth on the swing in your backyard. You hoped it would draw him out of his room one day, but your lax attitude and childish behavior still irked the older Officer. Even if his eyes lingered on your freckled shoulders during dinner, you were little more than an annoying child to him. Your breakfasts together were awkward and spent in silence while the doctor was making house calls. William took his coffee in silence, no longer able to stay awake after just one cup of tea. His nightly nightmares made it impossible to do much sleeping. 

One month into William’s stay, you ventured to finally speak to the man. Creeping quietly into the breakfast room and wearing a pretty girl’s play uniform and ribbons in your hair, you pulled his attention away from his newspaper. 

“Are you going to the victory parade, Captain?” 

Your voice broke the silence in William’s mind. He glanced up and noticed you standing beside your chair, your blush colored hand gripping the back of your chair. Your quiet voice shocked the thoughts from his head. 

“Pardon?” He asked as he cleared his throat. The newspaper collapsed over his fists. You blinked nervously and licked your lips. 

“Are you going to the victory parade? It’s on the front page,” you pointed to the front page of the newspaper he held between his hands. William tore his eyes from your face and checked the paper, annoyance rising in his throat. He took a moment to read the headline and groaned internally. 

“No, I won’t.” He answered evenly and flicked the paper back into place. You disappeared behind the wall of words and bit your lip in embarrassment. He kept his eyes focused on the page, though not reading, while you slipped out of the room. Your sandals clicked obnoxiously as you rushed up the stairs into your room. 

Your face burned from embarrassment and anger, so you cupped your hands against your cheeks. You cursed beneath your breath and resisted the urge to scream and kick your feet in the air. Your conversation had lasted for less than a minute and you learned exactly how rude the Officer could be. Were all men of higher rank like that? What gave Officer Killick the right to treat you in that way, so disinterested and unbothered? He was technically YOUR guest! You fummed in the privacy of your bedroom as William chewed his toast calmly and swallowed. 

…

  William remained frustratingly unbothered as he dressed for dinner, fixing his hair and straightening his dinner jacket. He cleared the dark hair from his forehead and sighed through his nose, his jaw set painfully as if he were suppressing a yawn. His door remained ajar and the movement of you passing in the hallway caught his eyes in the mirror. Your small waist was wrapped in a red romper and your brown mary janes squeaked quietly against the floorboards’ grain. You’d left your hair ribbons behind and your hair fell messily behind your shoulders. 

You tried to breathe evenly as you descended the stairs. The sounds of your father emerging from his study for dinner comforted your nervous attitude. You dreaded the arrival of the man upstairs, dreading having to listen politely as the men discussed their days, opinions, thoughts. It made you dislike the man more but it also made your crush that much more unbearable. You picked at the skin on your palms when you all met at the dining room table in silence. You listened as the men discussed politics as they usually did, the boredom boring into your temples like screws. You studied the smug profile of the young officer and pinched the skin on your thigh. Call you immature but you wanted to cause trouble, raise a little hell for the man, just enough to make him finally acknowledge your existence. 

“Officer Killick told me that he isn’t participating in the victory parade,” you casually announced, cutting your meat and licking the juice from your fork. Her father raised his eyebrows inquisitively. 

“Oh?” He asked as he chewed. William looked at the girl, his brows furrowed. What were you doing? 

“Ah no,” William cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin. 

“It’s a pity,” you interjected, your eyes trained on your plate. 

“Why’s that?” William retorted, cautious of your tainted tone. 

“The parade is celebrating your victory, our victory. Surly Churchill would want you to be there.” 

William swallowed sharply, his blue eyes now trained on you at the table, sitting adjacent to him. 

“I owe Mr. Churchill nothing.” His voice was cold, his shoulders stiff, and his eyes narrowed, “and as long as you aren’t in cahoots with the man, I doubt he would ever know I wasn’t there to celebrate such a phony victory.” 

“Are you not pleased with the outcome, Officer Killick?” You asked calmly. Your father looked between the two of you with nervous glances. 

“That’s an unfair question.”

“How so?” 

“We may have won but the loss of human lives in the process barely justifies the minimal victory we claim to have earned.” 

“Are you such a pessimist?” You leaned closer and watched as the man lost more of his patience. 

“I’m a realist. I know what the war did and I know the effect it will continue to have because of what we did. No victory is worth what I’ve seen.” His eyes betrayed his erratic state. Images of war flashed in his eyes. 

He was breathing heavily as your eyes locked over the dinner table. You watched him, your eyes softening at the sight of the man cracking beneath the pressure of your conversation. His hair had been displaced and strands stuck to his perspiring forehead. His adam’s apple bobbled in his throat as he swallowed. 

“You still don’t want to celebrate what you’ve accomplished, what we have now because of what you and other men had to do? War is about sacrifices and even sacrifices should be celebrated.” You offered evenly and looked down at your plate shyly. William took a deep breath and sighed, picking up his fork to resume eating.  

“I shouldn’t be celebrated. Nothing I did was worth praise.” He said quietly and looked at the doctor. “In fact, doctor, you should know that the man you’ve allowed to stay in your home is just as bad as the men he was forced to slaughter. I’ve done things…” he faltered and sniffed loudly. William stood and dropped his napkin on the table beside his plate. He looked once again at you, his eyes soft once more. 

“I’ve done things no young woman should ever have to know about.” His eyes lingered on your face as he spoke and when he was finished he turned and left the room. His footsteps echoed emptily in the dark house as he left out through the back door. The doctor paused before looking at you.

“Elise,” he sighed, “we’ve all made sacrifices that we’d prefer not to remember. Parades tend to make us remember.” He sipped slowly from his wine glass and cleared his throat. 

…

You finished your dinner quickly and excused yourself. When your father was safely removed to his bedroom, you snuck down the stairs in your bare feet, hoping to avoid making any noise that would wake your father. In the cover of warm darkness, William stood beside the fountain, his hands shoved into his pockets. He stared wordlessly into the glimmering water until he heard your approach and whipped his head around. His wide eyes relaxed once he recognized your silhouette and soft voice. 

“Sorry, sir,” you whispered into the summer air. William looked back at the fountain and bit his tongue slightly. 

“You’re something else, aren’t you?” He muttered. 

“Sir?”

“How did your father allow you to grow up into such a brat?” He spun around, his voice harsh with a snarl. The ridge of his nose was crinkled as he spoke. You quivered beneath his tone and bit the inside of your cheek. 

“You don’t know me well enough to say that.”

“Then what was that at dinner? How dare you talk to me like that!” He turned around, his voice dark and angry. You sucked in a breath, watching as his hands rose in the air and froze. 

“I was angry and I overreacted,” you whispered weakly. William’s shoulders relaxed slightly in the dark. 

“Why?” He asked with a tired sigh and fished around in his pocket for a cigarette. 

“We’ve barely had even one conversation since you got here. This morning I was trying to make polite conversation and you were quite rude about it.” You spoke with your hands waving about your body and your breath tight as you searched for words. 

“Maybe I don’t like polite conversation,” William grumbled as he struck a match and tried to light his cigarette, “damn it.” He cursed when his hands shook, making it impossible to light his cigarette. 

“Maybe you have no manners,” you countered and took the small matchbook from the man. William watched you cautiously as you struck a new match and offered him the flame. William bent over and puffed out smoke until the cigarette’s end was properly lit. He pulled it from his lips and exhaled. 

“I stopped caring about manners during the war. In a world where there are so many problems, manners just seem ridiculous to waste my energy on. So, as to my point, I don’t like making polite conversation. If I wanted to talk to you about something, I would.”

“Well why haven’t you?” You crossed your arms across your chest and dug your toe into the soft bed of the lawn, avoiding his eyes like a shy schoolgirl. 

“Sometimes I don’t have anything to say,” William shrugged. 

“To women you mean,” you finished for him and his eyes shot back to your’s. He looked you up and down before he shook his head with a smirk you’d never seen before. 

“I don’t know if I would call you that. You’re a little young.” 

“And what? Does that make you an old man?” You smiled and glanced back at the house behind you, most of the windows devoid of light. 

“In some sense, yes,” William looked down at his cigarette and furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Well, I’m not a little girl, Officer Killick.” You smiled, “and I’m certainly not a brat.” 

“We’ll see about that,” William smiled back and twirled his cigarette between his fingers. As he looked down at the cigarette in his hand, a pair of soft lips kissed him quickly. You held his top lip carefully in your mouth before stepping back, watching his eyes for a reaction. William swallowed and opened his mouth to speak but no words came. You stared at each other in the darkness until William kissed you again, bending his shoulders down to meet your lips. It had been forever since he had kissed a woman and the rush of your breath fanning against his lips made him shiver. You wrapped your arms briefly around his shoulders and rose to your tiptoes. You held their lips still against one another for a moment and William felt himself sigh into you. Your smaller body radiated warmth into his, making him aware of the sweat collecting at the small of his back. With his free hand, William snaked his hand up your neck to your hair and clasped it in his hand. You smelled so nice and strands of your silky hair slipped from his fingers. 

“Y/N…” he whispered as he broke their kiss. Your bright eyes fluttered open and looked up at him. Suddenly, the scene became all too real to him. William took a step back, dropping his hand from your hair. He dragged a hand through his own hair and furrowed his brow. The dim light from the dining room leaked into the yard, casting a jaundice light on the young woman before him. From your perspective, the officer’s form was backlit, illuminating the width of his shoulders and the curve of his neck as he tilted his head to the side. He sighed heavily and took a long drag of his cigarette. Smoke filtered from his nose as he dropped the cigarette and stubbed it out with his heel. 

“Do you always get what you want?” He said calmly. You caught your breath, the sound of the fountain behind you becoming deafening. His blue eyes glimmered like dying stars in the dark. Your chest rose and fell as time felt as if it was standing still. That moment before a bomb exploded, before the ground gave out and the windows shattered around you. His hand waited at his side, flexing and relaxing as he watched you. 

“Yes,” you whispered finally. William drew in a shaky breath and nodded softly, risking a step towards you. 

“Then…” he started “who am I to resist you now?” He asked seriously, getting closer. Your eyes followed his hand as it found your hip in the dark. 

“But Y/N…” he started again and looked you up and down, “someone ought to tell you no.” He smirked haughtily and tilted your head back by your chin. He leaned his mouth in beside your ear and growled, “no one likes a fucking brat.” 

His words tickled the peach fuzz down your neck and you shivered, frightened by the tone of his deep voice. William dropped his hand from your waist and turned away. You watched his back as he walked away from you in the dark, towards the light of the house. Not ready to give up yet, you rushed to him and grabbed his forearm, urging him to stop. 

“Killick,” you whispered in a small voice. He looked over his shoulder at you, your red romper creased from dinner. He could just make out the light colored hair on your upper thighs in the offcast-light. Something in your facial expression changed him, the doe-like look in your eyes or your cupid bow lips, puckered in desire. He turned back around and kissed you, your hand still wrapped tightly around his arm. His hands reached for your waist and grabbed tightly at the flesh there. You dropped his hand when he picked you up by your waist, holding you up painfully on your tip-toes. Now you looked down slightly at him, his eyes dark and mature, scary and different in the nighttime. 

“What do you want from me, Y/N?” He grunted up at you, his voice heavy. You swallowed nervously and whined quietly from the painful way his fingers bore into your waist, the fabric of your romper giving your an uncomfortable wedgie

“I-,” you took a breath, “want you.”

“Oh, do you now?” William smirked, rubbing his thumbs across the fabric around your sides. “And you always get what you want, so what makes me special to you? Why should I let you have me?” 

You tried to catch your breath in your uncomfortable position.  

“I’ve never wanted anyone like this before,” you whispered, breathless. It was an honest response that embarrassed you and your face flushed a deep unflattering pink. William laughed briefly and lowered your back to the ground. 

“You’re just a naive little girl,” William stated, “you don’t know what you want.” 

“No, you’re right. I don’t.” You answered, frustration showing in your tone, “It’s not enough that I’m making a fool of myself saying these things to you, you have to make me feel stupid as well. My father does enough of that.” 

“You’re not stupid,” William observed quietly, but you were already mad, your voice gaining a harsher edge as you spoke.

“No, I’m not. I know I’m not. But to you and every other man that has ever been inside this house, I’m just a foolish little girl who knows nothing about the real world. And you may be right, Officer Killick, I may know nothing of war but it's only because you men have made it so that I can’t. I know nothing about how it feels for men and women to be together but I know something of how I feel, I know what want  is. I know what desire is. I desire so many things, sir. I want an education, I want to be taken seriously, I want to get out of this house, and right now, I want you. 

Your voice was no louder than a whisper but you felt as though you had been shouting. William watched you as you spoke, his jaw loosening as he listened. When you finished, he raised his eyebrow. Saying nothing, he stepped closer and swept the hair off your shoulders to your back. 

“You speak of desire,” William said softly as his hands cradled your neck, “I didn’t think I could desire anything after I came back.” 

You looked up at William and breathed out shakily when he began stroking your throat. 

“Why do I desire such an aggravating young woman? How could I want you so desperately when you make me so fucking angry?” 

“I could say the same sir,” you whispered, your hands hesitantly finding his chest beneath his jacket. William looked down at your sweet face and kissed you softly. You gripped the slack in his shirt, pulling him closer. William began to kiss you harder, shifting his head to the other side, and breathing deeply against your skin. You moaned softly as his hands slid down the front of your romper, lingering over your breasts. Your nipples hardened beneath his light touch as his thumbs passed over them. His hands traveled down to your bare thighs and then back up, slipping up your shorts. 

His right hand shifted over to your crotch, pulling and prodding at the material there. You moaned and rose up on the balls of your feet. You pushed the dinner jacket from his shoulders, watching as it fell to the grass behind him in a pile. Stumbling backwards, William held your waist against his stomach, bending your back away from him as he kissed you. You pulled at his hair, taking handfuls in your palms and tugging lightly. The Officer felt blood rush to his cock as he lowered you onto the grass beside the fountain. Your kisses became more erratic, sloppy with nerves and fear. Your heart seemed to beat so fast and hard that the ground quivered beneath you. William reached around your back, finding the small zipper at the nape of your neck and unzipped the romper slowly. 

“Wait,” you whispered and drew away from the man, “I don’t know how to do this.” 

William nodded, his breath shallow from lust, “It's alright sweetheart.” His voice was deep and contrasted strangely with the lightness of his blue eyes. The tree adjacent to your bodies covered you with a blanket of additional darkness, but even still, you could trace the outline of the officer’s face with your eyes. 

“You don’t have to do anything,” he whispered against your ear as he moved the straps from your shoulders, exposing the flesh below your collarbones and above your breasts. “But because you’re such a spoiled brat who gets whatever you wants…” his eyes flicked up to hers as he pulled the romper down your chest. “It's my turn to do what I want.” 

William tugged the romper down your waist and maneuvered it off your legs, setting it neatly to the side. Below your romper, you wore only underwear. William’s hands shook as he traced the hemming of the pretty panties, trailing a finger from the point of your pelvis to the inside of your thigh. You panted nervously, your chest rising and falling in quick succession. You resisted the urge to cover your breasts with your arms, embarrassed that you were so exposed when he was still almost fully dressed. With one last quick glance up at the house, William kissed your navel and then again on the soft pouch of flesh above the top of your underwear. 

When he pulled your underwear down to your knees, you gasped and covered your mouth quickly, shocked by the reality of your situation. At any moment, your father could awake and find the two other rooms empty. At any moment, your father could come outside to see the young officer lower his mouth to your thighs and kiss them gently. The house, however, stayed quiet and dark as William spread your legs as far as you could with the underwear still around your knees, and rubbed his pointer finger between the folds of your cunt. 

“I want to feel you around my fingers,” William said hoarsely, holding himself over you, still kneeling between your crooked legs. “I want to see how much you can take.” He added with a soft smirk before slowly inserting one finger inside you. You arched your back slightly, scared by the intrusion that wasn’t necessarily pleasurable. 

“It’s in,” he encouraged you quietly and moved his finger back and forth, coating it with your natural lubricant. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” William watched your face. Your eyes widened as his finger went deeper, making you feel full with just one finger inside. It didn’t really feel like anything, though you enjoyed the closeness it awarded you as William’s face got closer and closer to your own. His breath mingled with your’s, your eyes locked. 

“Just one more finger and you’ll start to feel it. It’ll feel good.” William told you as he slowly inserted a second finger. You quickly muffled your moan as William worked the two fingers inside. The Officer was right, that’s when you started to feel it. William curled his fingers up and worked them in and out, prodding at the small button-like organ inside your cunt. You squirmed beneath him, your hips thrusting up as you tried to work through the sensations. 

“Good…” William praised you, licking his lips quickly, and looked down at your wet cunt. Then he slowly lowered his face between your thighs and watched up close as his fingers worked inside you, eliciting dampened whimpers and sighs. Watching your changing facial expressions, William applied his mouth to your clit and began to suck gently. Immediately, your hips jutted forward, Your free hand pulled up handfuls of grass and you bit down on your palm. You whimpered loudly through your teeth and William smiled against your cunt, licking your folds in quick, cat-like laps. 

“Sir,” you moaned, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, “s-something's happening. Mmmmmm oh god!” You cried as William sucked harder on your clit, his fingers fucking you with more violence. 

“You’re cuming. Good, good girl.” William smirked and helped your ride through your violent first orgasm. Your hips fell back against the grass as cloudy juice coated his tired fingers. Licking them clean, William sat back on his knees and admired your beautiful body. You looked up at him with your wide, doe-like eyes. Your hair was wild and sweat glistened across your collarbones. William had not been able to get an erection since he left the airforce, but now, he felt the old-familiar feeling of his cock being crushed against his pants. His crotch tented out toward you. You were panting as you tried to catch your breath. 

“We’re not quite done yet,” William ran a hand up your thigh to your cheek. The muscles in your stomach contracted as his hand passed over them. With his free hand, William undid the front of his trousers and pulled his erection from his underwear. His pants fell slightly below his pale butt as he supported himself over you again. “Put your hand on it,” William ordered kindly and waited patiently as you reached for his cock in the dark. He sighed loudly as you held his cock and began to rub your hand up and down. 

“Good, keep doing that and go a little faster…. Just like that, yes.” 

“It’s so big…” You whispered, biting your lip. 

“Well what’d you expect, sweetheart?” William tried to smile before breaking into a moan. “Ok, I’ll take over again from here. I’m going to fuck you now, ok?” He waited for you to nod before he raised one of your legs and lined himself up with your entrance. “This will hurt a little. Try to be quiet, ok?” He pushed inside and felt the immediate contraction of your cunt around him as he did. 

“So fucking wet, bloody hell.” William watched as his cock slid inside, your cum glistening around his length. You covered your mouth once again and gasped each time he pulled back and reentered you. “Oh I’m going to fuck your sweet little cunt,” William groaned, holding himself back from fucking you as hard as he wanted to. 

“It feels so good,” You gasped behind your hand and William nodded. 

He started to move deeper, slightly shifting the girl’s body across the grass as his hips met hers. His butt flexed as he went as far as he could inside her, whimpering when you squeezed around him. As he started to gain more momentum, William grunted each time he thrusted into you and you bit down on your thumb to stop yourself from yelling out in pleasure. He held one of your thighs up to your chest, helping his cock find the button of pleasure inside your cunt. When he did, you moaned around your thumb. You grabbed at the Officer’s shirt, pulling him closer to your chest. William supported himself just above your face and kissed your splotchy pink neck as he went slower. 

“I’m going to cum again,” you whimpered beside his ear. 

William smirked and bit down gently on your shoulder, his hips rutting deeply into you. 

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” William urged you as he worked up to his own climax. Your whimpers peaked as you came around him for a second time, your hands grabbing onto the back of his shirt. Fucking you a little faster as you whinned beneath him, William came to a blinding climax. Pulling out just in time, he spilled his hot seed onto the ground beside you. You stared at each other as you panted, both of your grotesquely pale skin glowing in the dark. Finally, William kissed you again, sucking on your bottom lip as you sighed softly. 

And just as you pulled apart, a soft yellow light came on upstairs.

....

Should there be a part 2?

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 || william killick x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || your husband sometimes gets carried away with his devotion to you...

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 3.7k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || noncon/heavy dubcon smut (18+ only!!! rough sex, breeding kink, marking kink, hair pulling, praise and degradation, dark but the reader is lowkey into it lmaooo), jealousy and possessiveness, yandere vibes?, gaslighting/manipulation, established relationship, alcohol consumption

"Heavens, you look stunning!" Gordon announced when he saw you, opening his arms wide as an invitation for an embrace.  You only went in for a quick hug, but he grabbed you tight and kissed the top of your head as you laughed delightfully.  "Doesn't she look ravishing?  Don't I have excellent taste?"

The other ladies nearby nodded in agreement, hanging off of him like they tended to.  That was the way Gordon was: magnetic, for his personality just as much as his looks.  Blonde curls with light brown eyes and that megawatt smile… as long as you'd known him, he'd never had trouble with ladies— he just made trouble for them.

"Aren't I the greatest literary agent you ever had?" he asked you, and you rolled your eyes.

"You're the only I've ever had," you reminded him.  "You represented me when I was a teenage girl trying to sell my assignments from secondary school!"

"Yes, so I win by default," he decided with a big kiss to your cheek that made you scrunch up your nose.

"But that makes you the worst I ever had, too, doesn't it?" you noticed as Gordon relaxed his embrace to just an arm around your waist.

"See?" he prompted the nearby women, "Didn't I tell you?  Can't get anything past this one— sharp as a whip, she is—"

As you shrugged in dismissal of the praise, you looked around the room in awe of all Gordon had done for you now.  He had a taste for the extravagant, clearly; truth be told, it was nothing like you'd pictured it, and nothing like what you'd asked him for when he insisted on throwing a party.

"So, please, drink up, be merry, all of that," Gordon instructed his ladies, motioning out towards the crowded room, "get properly sloppy if you must— all in honour of this lovely woman right here… a genius of writing, and one of my longest and dearest friends."

As they departed in search of free drinks, you turned to Gordon with a nervous frown.  "I'm not sure this is really all for me, Gordy," you sighed.

"Of course it is," he chuckled heartily, "I told you I'd throw something to celebrate another year of us working together— I wanted to have a gala for your novel's first publishing, but you were too busy on the honeymoon then—"

You smiled just at the mention of your honeymoon.

"All these people, doll, they're here for you," Gordon assured.

"The people, maybe; but the evening wear, the drinks, the music, the glamour?  That's for you, isn't it?" you smirked.

But before he could respond to the accusation, his eyes fell somewhere at the other end of the room, and he turned you to look the same way.  "Speaking of people here for you…" he trailed off.

You perked up when you saw William, slipping through the crowds of people, already approaching you with his hat tucked under his arm.

"You came!" you squealed with excitement as you jumped towards your husband, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.  "Oh, dear," you sighed when you saw that you'd printed berry-red lipstick on his cheek, starting to wipe it off with your fingers.

"I couldn't miss it, of course," he smiled at you, his voice so soft you barely heard it over the hustle and bustle of the party.

"They shouldn't have let you in," Gordon said, making you both look back at him.  "It's black tie only, you know."

William smiled slightly with his lips pressed together.  "He's only joking," you realised with an awkward mumble.

"The uniform seemed to go over alright," William replied, sticking his hand out towards Gordon for a shake.

"Oh, don't be so formal," Gordon laughed as he yanked William into rough side-hug.  "We know each other, don't we?"

"Sort of," William answered under his breath as Gordon put a heavy hand— adorned with golden decorative rings— on his shoulder.  

"Though I've half a mind to rough you up for convincing my star author to publish her next book under her married name," Gordon continued with a haughty laugh.  "She's already so established with the maiden name!"

"I didn't convince her of anything, I only married her," William defended.  

"Never thought you'd manage to tie this one down," Gordon smirked, "independent as she is."

"She didn't put up too much of a fight," William winked at you, and you felt a little flushed as you blinked quickly.

Apparently tired with that line of conversation, Gordon stood beside you and flipped it back to the real topic of the evening: your writing.

“She’s quite a prodigy!” Gordon exclaimed with a wide grin, wrapping an arm around you, then.  “You’ve read what she writes, haven't you?”

“Some of it,” William admitted with a nervous laugh, looking down for a moment.  “The rest is too sad for me, I’m afraid.”

“Her latest is a masterpiece,” Gordon assured.  “Forbidden love, secrets, affairs—”

“Sordid stuff,” William frowned, shaking his head.

“Sells, though,” Gordon winked.  “Men and women— we’re even selling copies in America!”

William only nodded, not seeming too convinced, and you deflated slightly as you reached out for your husband’s hand.  “Aren’t you proud of me?” you asked, sounding much more pathetic than you meant to.

“Of course, darling,” he smiled at you, “always.”

“You don’t mind if I borrow your lovely wife again, do you?” Gordon beamed.  “There’s some people over there she should meet— they might just sponsor the tour for her next novel.”

“All these book tours, I feel as if she’s hardly ever home,” William sighed.

“Well, we’ve got to keep her on the tours,” Gordon chuckled, “or that pretty face will go to waste!”

William’s jaw tightened as he nodded curtly in agreement, and you felt nervousness turning in your stomach.

“You should have a drink, soldier,” Gordon offered to lighten the obvious tension, handing William a wide glass of champagne.

He patted your husband a little too roughly on the back as he drank, before dragging you off to talk to some publishers or whatever— you glanced over to try to see your husband at the bar, hoping to catch him smiling at you, but you only caught his icy stare over the edge of his glass.

~

Enough liquor loosened you both up, and you managed to enjoy the party well into the hours of the night— it was almost one in the morning when you got home, yet you had a shocking amount of energy still coursing through you as you started to undress at the vanity.  It must’ve been all the people there, and knowing they were all celebrating you; it was electrifying, even as someone who preferred to be cooped up alone with her typewriter.

William leaned against the bedroom doorway as you shed your heels and stockings, then unpinned your hair.  When you saw him skulking on the reflection, you smirked to yourself, taking out one of your earrings.

“What’s the matter, love?” you asked sweetly, but he said nothing.  “Love?”

“I guess I’m not much of a partier,” he explained flatly.

You smiled a little, taking out your other earring and then reaching behind your neck to unclasp your necklace.  You didn’t even really notice the silence before it was broken.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” William said suddenly, and you scoffed— once you realised what he was talking about.

“He’s just that way,” you assured, “I don’t take it personally.”

“And all the talk of your genius, of your prodigious writing— that’s not personal?”

You shrugged slightly as you turned slightly and looked at him over your shoulder, smiling but knitting your brows together in confusion.  “Isn’t that why you married me?  I thought you liked the way people fawn over me.”

“But you know him,” William insisted again.  “You knew him before you even met me, you work with him— you spend long hours with him, when I’m gone—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you laughed, standing up, but he only glared at you.  You tilted your head as you approached him.  “William, you couldn’t really think—”

“Don’t patronise me,” he sneered, and when you reached out to touch his face, he snatched you by the wrist and yanked you closer.

“William!” you scolded, whimpering as he moved his face close to yours, nostrils flaring as he breathed heavily through them.  “William, please—”

“Look at me,” he demanded, grabbing your face with his other hand.  “Look at your husband, darling.”

You bit your lip to suppress its shaking, meeting his fiery— yet cold— stare.  “You’re hurting me,” you whispered, tightening your hand into a weak fist as he held it painfully tight.

“I can see, you know,” he told you sharply and quietly through his teeth.  “I can see the way you laugh at his jokes, and let him pull you closer.  His hand on your hip—”

“It’s nothing, William,” you breathed, and his hand moved down from your face to your neck, then your chest, where he brushed his fingers over the neckline of your dress.

“Wearing the dresses he buys for you,” he noticed with a sneer.  “God, he’s got you looking like his fucking whore.”

He shoved you back and you tripped to land on the bed, hiding your face in fear and shame as he stalked towards you.

“Now you want to play innocent?” William spat as he towered over you.  “I told you to fucking look at me!”

“I can’t!” you sobbed, fighting when he grabbed your arms and tried to pry them apart, attempting to force you to turn onto your back.  “I can’t, William, not when you’re like this!”

“You made me like this!” he accused, eventually getting you to turn over so he could pin down your wrists on either side of your head.  “You made me like this,” he said again, voice lowered from shouting to a soft growl.  “You let him put his filthy fucking hands all over you, didn’t you?”

“No, William,” you denied, crying weakly as you shook your head.  “Never.  I love you— I love you more than anything.”

“But you won’t tell me the truth,” he snarled.  “The truth, darling, not another story— not another one of your goddamn stories!”

“He kissed me!” you admitted suddenly, and before you could explain, William roughly slammed his lips onto yours.  You whimpered into it, struggling against his tightening grip, and he pressed you down into the bed with the weight of his body.

“Tell me how it happened,” he demanded, lips still brushing against yours as he spoke, eyes still piercing through you.

“I swear, Will, I told him to stop,” you breathed, “I pushed him away.  I told him I love you, William— and I do, don’t you know how much I do?”

“He kissed you,” William repeated, rage tinting his voice.

“That’s all, I swear,” you promised.

“And you didn’t tell me—”

“I thought you’d get angry,” you defended weakly.

“You didn't tell your poor, doting husband,” he groaned, “your heartbroken husband—”

“I’m so sorry, William,” you whispered.

“Why didn’t you tell me, hm?  Because you love him?”

“No!  Fuck, no,” you cried.

“Because you considered it— because you thought about letting him make love to you?”

“No!” you shouted, but he suddenly put a hand over your mouth to muffle it.  When you stopped, stilling briefly as he looked down at you, he took his hand away and stroked your cheek with it.

“He must have forgotten,” William whispered under his breath, petting your face and acting oddly sweet.  “He must have forgotten that you… belong to me.”

You blinked quickly, shivering as he pressed a slow, short kiss to your lips.

“That these lips belong to me,” he continued with a sigh, “that this neck belongs to me—”

He kissed it, but brushed his teeth teasingly over your pulse.

“That every single, beautiful, perfect part of you,” he went on, hands running down over your chest and settling on your waist tightly, “belongs to me.”

He bit down harder on your neck and you whined.

“Did you forget too, darling?”

“William, you’ll leave marks,” you whimpered, “you’ll bruise me—”

“Good,” he purred, “then you can’t just take your ring off and act single, can you?”

“I never take off your ring, William,” you swore, “not even to bathe…”

“I still want my marks all over you,” he explained darkly, “I still want you bruised tomorrow.  I don’t just want them to know you’re married, darling— I want them to know how good I fuck you.  I want them to know that your husband fucks you.”

Suddenly his hands were at your dress, tearing it to shreds right down the front.

“And I want them to know,” he continued with a groan, “how much you love it.”

He flipped you over roughly, yanking you up by your hair until you were forced to scramble onto your hands and knees.  Your head dropped defeatedly when he let go of your hair, and he held your hips tightly with one hand as he opened his trousers with the other.

“W-wait,” you stammered, but he ignored you, reaching up under the tatters of your dress to yank your girdle and panties down.  Before you could beg for some mercy again he slammed into you, making you choke out a wavering cry; instantly he was fucking you hard and fast, making you shake all over and try to reach back to grab his hips so he might slow down.  “W-Will, love, please—” you whimpered helplessly.

“Fuck, if that son of a bitch could see you like this,” William sneered.  “If he could see you now— he’d know who you belong to, wouldn’t he?  If he could see you on your hands and knees, begging for me…”

He fucked you even harder— his hand reached up to hold onto your shoulder so you wouldn’t fall forward from the force of it.

“If he could see what a dirty little wife you are,” he groaned, digging his fingers into your skin— more marks, you were sure.  “Fuck, you’re soaking me already, darling.”

A whimper slipped from your mouth as he leaned down, holding you tightly and speaking right by your ear.

“You like it, don’t you?  Playing with me,” he hissed.  “You like driving your poor husband crazy, thinking you might be stepping out on him?”

You shook your head, choking on a moan as he slowed his movements to make sure every thrust reached as deep into you as possible.  “N-no, love, no—”

“You like how I fuck you when I’m angry, don’t you?” he went on anyways, biting the shell of your ear until your channel clenched around him.  “Is that what got you so wet, darling?”

Biting your lip to hide your moans, you held tighter onto the sheets beneath you, and one of his hands came down to wrap around yours.

“So sweet,” he cooed, “such a sweet little wife.  You look so innocent, darling, they have no idea what a slut you are— none of them do, but fuck… they will.”

He sped up again and you whined loudly; the pain and the pleasure together made your legs shake, hardly able to hold you up on the bed.  He snatched one of the nearby pillows and shoved it under your hips— it kept them up when he began to fuck you so hard that you fell forward, and the angle hit just right inside you as a desperate scream was muffled by your face falling into the sheets.

"Yes, there she is," he praised, "my whore wife— how she loves to be fucked, reminded of her place.  This is your place, isn't it?  In my bed, sweet cunt taking my cock?  Not out with that awful man— not on those godforsaken book tours—"

When you tried to reach back to keep him from going too deep again, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them back beside your face as he kept thrusting even faster, making the whole bed bounce and shake.

"You can take it all, darling," he promised with a groan, "you can fit your husband inside, all the way— fuck, you're so beautiful like this.  You're so perfect, my angel…"

He buried his face in your neck as he thrusted into you, his own moans rivalling yours while he kissed your neck and ear and shoulder.  

No one could accuse your husband of lacking passion, even if they didn’t see him like this— which you really hoped they didn’t.  From the very beginning, he’d pursued you fervently: he read one of your short stories, and wrote rather effusive fan mail to the magazine in which it was published.  And then when he came to your publisher’s office hoping to meet you, he took one look at you and became properly obsessed.  He insisted you were the love of his life… and before you’d even really gotten to know him!  You were nearly offended at first; but the longer his seduction went on, the more you couldn’t help but fall for him.  Strong yet tender, kind yet stern, intelligent yet sensitive… and creative, much more than you expected.  He had quite an imagination.

Unfortunately, that imagination had a dark side, especially with his tendency to be quite jealous.  It had never gone this far before, though.

He pulled out of you, only a moment of relief and disappointment, before turning you onto your back and hovering over you.  “Look at me,” he demanded again, though his voice was low and gentle now, “look up at me, beautiful.”

He tilted your chin up with two fingers, admiring the tears in your eyes with a tender sort of expression.

“Oh, my darling,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your neck as he slowly pushed back inside you.  Your back arched and he slipped one arm under it to hold you tightly as he set a more careful pace than before— though still not all that slow.  "My beautiful girl— you can't help it, can you?  The way men feel about you."

A slightly deeper thrust made you gasp and reach up to hold his shoulders, blinking through the watering in your eyes.

"Of course he kissed you," he breathed, "if you were another man's wife, I'd kiss you too.  I'll always have to have you, darling, nothing could stop me."

"I pushed him away, love," you swore again.

"I know, I know," he cooed.  "But I still can't stand to think of it… of my darling wife being kissed by someone else.  He would've only done that if he thought you'd kiss him back, you know— he thought you would let him fuck you."

He picked up his pace, staring deep into your eyes and gripping you tightly.

“When you’re pregnant, then he’ll know,” William announced proudly as he held your hips.  “Then everyone who sees you will know: you fucking belong to me.”

Overwhelmed by it, you felt yourself get even hotter and slicker between the legs at the idea of that.  He was wrong about you wanting to make him jealous, but neither of you could deny now that you got some gratification out of it.

“Say it,” he ordered.

“I belong to you,” you promised, “I’m yours— you know I’m yours, love, always—”

He hummed in agreement, pumping deeper and faster into you as your head spun.  “You’ll be the most beautiful expectant wife there ever was,” he purred, a rough hand tugging your bra out of the way and groping your breasts.  “These nice and full— all of you swollen and soft—”

“W-William,” you stammered, hardly able to breathe with his weight on you and the way he filled you.

“Big belly,” he cooed, “and my baby inside— our baby.  Fuck, how can I wait to see you like that?”

“F-fuck,” you choked out, “don’t stop, please… please, my love—”

“I’ll fill you, darling,” he promised lowly, baring his teeth as you started to fall into it— your head tilting back into the mattress, pleasure overtaking you, your fingers digging into his shoulders.  “I’ll give you everything I have, every night, until it takes—”

“Please,” you begged, holding him tighter and lifting your face up with what little energy you had to bury it in his shoulder.  You cried from the intensity of it all— from everything— as shudders wracked your body.  He groaned as he felt you pulsing around him, kissing your face and groaning beside your ear.

“What a good little wife,” he praised as you came, “what a perfect little wife— you want it, don’t you?  To be pregnant, have my child?”

You barely managed to nod, you were so overcome by every sensation running through you.  But you did, and he growled proudly.

“You will, my angel,” he promised, “I’ll make sure of it.  Just say one more time that you love me, darling— that you’ll always be mine—”

“I-I love you so much, William,” you swore, muffled in the jacket that you clutched needily.  “I’m yours— I’m always yours— oh!”

You lost track of your words, but it didn’t matter then because you were drowned out by his gasps: heavy, low breaths as he pressed into you one last time and filled you completely.

Instantly, you were flooded with even more emotions: shame, ecstasy, confusion, hurt, love.  It was too much to take even if you weren’t still slightly tipsy and entirely sleep-deprived, but altogether it just turned you into a mess.

After coming down from his high— though he was still catching his breath— William seemed to sober up in a second as you cried harder.  Cooing gently at you, he wrapped his arms tighter around you and hugged you close.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he breathed as he held you tightly, “I’m so sorry.  You know it’s just my love that makes me this way— I just can’t stand to see another man lay his hand on you… I just can’t imagine you with anyone else, it breaks my heart, darling.”

“You break my heart, William,” you whispered back, still hiding in his shoulder, “when you think I could ever hurt you like that.  When you accuse me of something like that—”

“I just get scared, darling,” he sighed, petting your back slowly as he rocked you in his arms.  “I just get scared that you’re too good to be true.  That this beautiful creature can’t be all mine.”

You smiled against his skin, holding onto him tighter.  “I love you so much, William… I’d never— you have to believe me, I’d never—”

“Shh,” he soothed softly, as he held your head and kissed the top of it.  “I know, darling, I know.  Because you belong to me.”

[ssweetleaf]

not now.

summary: william wants a baby, but you’re not so sure— he makes sure to get you pregnant whether you like it or not.

william killick x fem!reader

includes: SMUT 18+, dark!william, non-con, baby trapping/breeding kink, choking, face slapping, unprotected p in v, cream pie

˖ ࣪⭑

Your cheek stung and bloomed with heat from the constant slaps William inflicted upon you, quick and sharp, forcing broken whimpers and heaving sobs to erupt from your throat.

“I can’t believe you would embarrass me like that,” his voice was raised, jaw tensing while his hand gripped at your throat, keeping you close and in place. “your own husband.”

You clutched at his wrist, desperate for him to go easy on you.

-

“So, Will, isn’t it time you settled down? Have a few kids running round?” One of your close friends had asked, eager to get an insight onto your married life and why on earth you were still without children.

William smiled, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressed a little kiss to your temple.

“Oh, definitely— we’ll be trying for a baby in no time, isn’t that right darling.”

His arm tightened around you, an act of dominance, a warning.

You frowned, cheeks searing and you stuttered to find your words.

“Well,” you started, “I just don’t think we’re ready for children at the moment, m-maybe in a few years.”

You smiled nervously up at your friend, them having no idea the way his hand slipped from your waist, or the immediate tension that grew between you and your husband.

-

“William,” you sobbed, little tears slipping down your cheeks, ruining the pretty makeup you had spent so much time on earlier. “please let go, you’re hurting me.”

He chuckled dryly, humourless, forcing you back with the hand around your neck, the backs of your knees bumping into the bed frame, causing you to tumble onto the mattress.

William straddled you, roughly tugging at the front of your dress, watching your tits spill out of your bodice, nipples on display and hardening from the cool air.

“Wives are supposed to obey their husbands, correct?” He spoke, running his palms along your breasts, grabbing fistfuls of the soft flesh and kneading crudely.

You whimpered, his thumbs flicking over your nipples, playing with them and watching them grow harder with each passing of his digit.

“Answer me.” He snapped, another sharp slap was directed to your cheek, leaving you breathless and shaky.

“Y-yes!” You squealed, sobbing and squirming in his grasp.

“Well then,” he cooed, all condescending stroking your swelling cheek with his knuckle before lifting your dress, bunching it against your stomach. “You’re going to give me a baby, dear— make me a proper daddy.”

Your eyes widened, glassy with another round of un-shed tears, and you pushed at his chest.

“N-no, not now— not like this, William please,” he hushed you, bringing his strong hands to your panties and tearing them apart, groaning at the sight of your pretty pussy on display for him, just begging to take his cock and be filled with the Killick prodigy.

“Now, now, none of that,” he spoke, parting your thighs wide, his strong grip stilling you. “You obey your husband like a good little trophy wife.”

He unbuckled his belt in a hurry, unzipping his fly and pulling his cock free. You watched it throb and pulse, desperate to be enveloped and you cursed yourself at the way your clit responded to it.

“See?” He cooed, running his cock head along the length of your slit, your arousal slicking him up and making it terribly easy for him to glide up and down. “You want it just as bad as I do, sweetheart, don’t try and deny it.”

His tip nudged against your hole, slipping inside with little resistance with how wet you had become, and he sank into you, balls deep, right to the hilt, throbbing hotly inside you and you whined at the immense pressure against your sweet spot.

“Darling, s-slow down,” you tried shakily, gripping onto his biceps, your nails leaving crescents in his freckled skin. His pace had turned ruthless quick, balls slapping against your ass and thighs snug with yours on every inward thrust.

“There you go,” he breathed, ignoring your plea to slow down, to go easy on you, instead he just went faster, even deeper. “You’re a good girl really, aren’t you? Just act like a brat to get fucked— I know your little games, dear.”

The thumping of your heart drowned out his filthy words, your chest heaving, coil tightening in your stomach and you just couldn’t help it.

His eyes screwed shut, moaning into the air and he throbbed inside you, you could tell he was close, thrusts already growing sloppy.

“Pull out,” you whined, “not inside, please don’t cum inside.”

He ignored you, batting your hands away when you tried to push at his chest and he lifted your legs up so they rested over his shoulders.

You cried out at the sudden switch of position, his cock so deep inside you swore you could feel him in your throat.

“That’s it, legs up— gotta make sure it takes.”

You sobbed and cried, pussy fluttering around his cock when he thrusted once, twice, three times more before spilling his load inside of you, filling your womb with his seed and painting your walls all thick and white.

“Everyone’s going to know now, darling,” he breathed, “they’ll know just how good I fuck you once you’re all pregnant, pretty.”

[august-diehl]

CILLIAN MURPHY as William Killick in The Edge of Love (2008) | dir. John Maybury

[pinguwrites]

Ooooh, what about this? Future!reader accidentally time traveled to 1940s when she met William Killick, and he had to take care of her due to injuries she had. She ended up staying with him while rejecting his advances because she was trying to find a way to go back to future, and it wouldn’t be fair to him if she were to accept his advances, but she didn’t know William was sabotaging the solutions to ensure she would stay with him forever.

THIS IS ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL LIKE HOLY SHIT. I was about to write something like this with Tommy in Black Heart, but I opted out, and I hadn't even considered this with William, so I'm so glad you requested it!!

this was supposed to be a short-length fic lol, it's like the longest thing I've ever written on here

Home Is Where the Heart Is ⸻ William Killick

pairing | william killick x future!reader

summary | You don't think much of the box when it arrives at your front door. That is, until you open it and are transported decades into the past. There, you fall into the arms of a handsome soldier, who is intent on making you stay.

word count | 9k

Warnings: DUB-CON, possessive!william, future!reader, period typical sexism it's okay when it's william, reader has a software job, weird time travel plot (who knows how the box got there? it's totally not going to be revealed in part two ;) ), mentions of war, reader simps so hard, p in v sex, breeding kink

Disclaimer: The Edge of Love characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

A/N: I'm honestly not too proud with how rushed it was, but I'm glad it's out there. I'm definitely doing a part two. Be warned for errors.

You were lying in a field of grass, tall, bushy trees lining the area around you. You seemed to be in some type of countryside because in the distance you could faintly see quaint little houses and farmland (at least, you assumed it was; your vision was awfully blurry), but other than that, you had no clue as to where you were.

“Ah,” you hissed, noticing the cut on your body. When you arrived — however that happened — you had scrapped your arm on a sharp rock embedded in the dirt, and now it was bleeding, red blood trickling down your arm.

You sighed miserably, trying to make sense of the situation.

Yesterday, a packaged box arrived on your front doorstep. No address, no company, just a note in pen, To [Y/n] [L/n]. You were a little wary of its contents but brought it inside anyway. You opened it and uncovered a machine, steel and simple in its construction, yet difficult to understand. There was no instruction manual or labels for the buttons, and it took you a while to know if you were even looking at it right, the only hint being the Roman numerals inside the dials.

After tinkering around with it, you must have fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew, you were in a completely other place. All you had on were your clothes, some money, and your phone, which, surprise surprise, had no signal, so all you could do was look at your downloads — completely useless — and take a photo. 

I must’ve been drugged, you thought, still feeling hazy. I should have called the cops the moment I realized something was off.

You got up and took off your socks, trying to stop the bleeding with it. It wasn’t the most hygienic, but it was all you had at the moment, and you weren’t about to tear off pieces of the shirt you had on, especially not when you were already shivering. 

The contraption had traveled with you, and though you were aware it was the reason you were here in the first place, you thought it better to bring it along, as evidence. You could show it to the government, and they could use their little science ways to find the culprit. All would be fine.

All will be fine.

You started walking. You didn’t have any shoes on for protection, so it was difficult to step across the dirt, with all its rocks and insects swarming about, but you managed to get to grass quick enough, and it felt much better, almost healing to walk barefoot on the softness of mother nature.

But you didn’t get very far. Eventually, your stomach started grumbling, and you felt like your intestines were twisting inside with desperation. Your sock was now red, and your hand was trembling, so with a defeated sigh, you let go, of both the sock and the heavy machine, allowing the blood to flow freely. You bent over to pick the sock back up first, but the sudden movement made your head reel, and before you knew it, you were out again.

+++

“You’re awake,” a voice said, a male’s voice, a British accent that sounded like butter. Oh, butter, if you could get your hands on that alone you would be satisfied. 

You opened your eyes, blinking. A figure, with pale skin and dark hair made it’s way over to you, and in a panic, you crawled away, eyes darting across the room. You were on a bed, bandages on your arm, but before you could calm down or even begin to think properly, panic took over, your heart rate elevated, and you sighed, before passing out again.

+++

For about the third time today, or however long you were out, you woke up. This time your vision was much clearer, but you still had this nasty migraine in your head. You were sick inside, the kind of sick that happens when you haven’t eaten in a while but can’t eat because you feel like you’ll throw up. 

You wondered if you were in the same place again. You remembered a man, with a soothing voice, but he wasn’t here right now. Though the possibility that you had been kidnapped entered your mind, you noticed the lack of bonds and chains on your body. He was probably just helping you, you reasoned.

You slowly got out of bed, wincing at the shooting pain in your arm. You observed your surroundings. The bedroom was very minimalist, and . . . quirky. You loved the design and the materials used, as it reminded you of a cottage, but there was nothing helpful in sight. All the technology you could see, like the kitchen, needed to be updated and was worn out. There was some type of record player, or CD tape, or whatever that was called, on one of the counters and a radio beside it. 

You didn’t bother with any of that. You were thirsty, throat dry and gnawing at you, so you went to look for water, hoping that whoever lived here didn’t go out and get it from a fucking well. He probably does. Look at this place!

“Shit!” you swore, your knees buckling from underneath you. You felt so weak and miserable and vulnerable. It hit you at this moment that you were probably a hundred miles away from home, in a strange place in a strange home you’d never seen before. How were you going to get back? What were you going to do?

Tears started welling in your eyes. You hated that you were being so emotional. Why couldn’t you toughen up and deal with the situation like a proper adult?

You leaned onto the counter, trying to balance yourself, when the front door opened up, and the man you saw before walked in, carrying a bag full of vegetables and other foods. He quickly placed the bag down and held you in his arms, his warmth comforting and relaxing.

He had short, dark hair, and a sharp jawline, and from this distance, you could see light freckles scattered across his cheeks. He had the most beautiful blue eyes you’d ever seen, like glaciers, like the ocean. Fuck, he was so handsome. 

“Here,” he said, guiding you back to the bedroom. He set you down on the bed, gazing at you with such intensity, like adoration or devotion. 

“W-who are you?” you asked, voice cracking. “Where am I? Hngh.” You rubbed your temples. Didn’t he have any pain medications?

“My name is William. William Killick,” the man introduced softly. “Don’t be scared, I’m not going to hurt you.” He went off into the kitchen and brought back a glass of water. You drank it slowly, the cool liquid flowing through your body, wetting your mouth. “I didn’t know if you had family nearby, so I took you to my place.”

William paused, as if thinking of what to say next. “Get more rest, it’s night.”

You hadn’t even noticed the time, but one look out the window told you he was right. It was pitch black outside.

“You’ll wake up tomorrow, and have some breakfast.”

You shook your head, and handed the glass back to him, only for him to set it down on the nightstand table. “Where’s my phone? Where’s my . . . box?”

He stared at you blankly, before clearing his throat. “Your stuff is in the back. I didn't know what it was — hey, don’t move.” William’s strong hands kept you in place, pushing you back down to the bed as gently as he could whilst still keeping a firm grip. “Rest,” he ordered. “Don’t need you fainting on me again.”

You wanted to argue, but you couldn’t. You laid your head on the pillow, without a choice but to trust William, and fell asleep, wrapping yourself in the blanket with a content sigh. All the questions you had, all the thoughts, faded away and were replaced by darkness.

+++

You dreamt of yourself and yourself. You, the spectator, were standing outside a window, but it wasn’t just any window. It was your window, the one that led to the inside of your bedroom, where you could see you and William — the strange man — entangled in the sheets. Lovers. You two were lovers. You two were making love. 

Anyone would have felt creepy watching someone else, and anyone would have noticed someone watching them, but none of that happened. The sun should have cast a shadow on you, but it didn't. The passerby should have called you out, but they didn’t. 

You had just enough awareness to realize that this was a dream. How were you back at home already? Why were you and William kissing?

While originally you felt nothing, like a simple observer without thoughts, you were suddenly flooded with heavy emotions. Confusion, shame, lust, confusion.

But in just a few moments, the world around you crumbled, like an earthquake, and the sun and moon passed by, stars moving across the heavens, and you were warped by time, back in the same place you were before. 

+++

You woke up with a gasp, cold sweat running down your body, and immediately William was by your side. You rested your head on his chest, grasping onto his shirt desperately, not wanting him to leave. 

“Shh, shh,” he cooed, running his fingers through your hair.

“Sorry,” you muttered, making no effort to leave his side. “I don’t know . . .”

“Shh.”

You both were like this for a while. Faint images of your dream passed through your mind, and from what little you remembered, you assumed it had been a wet dream. 

I can’t believe it, you thought. Having a wet dream — about a guy I barely met. Control yourself!

You pulled away, already missing his warmth. William frowned a little but didn’t say anything. “What’s your name, darling?” he asked. 

You hesitated.

“I told you, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“[Y/n],” you finally told him. “Where are we?”

William narrowed his eyes. You had a feeling he knew more than he was letting on, but you didn’t want to press.

“Wales,” William answered.

You froze. How the fuck did you get to Wales? What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.

“Um, that’s nice,” you said awkwardly. “How long has it been since you found me?”

“A few days.”

You tried not to panic, but all you could think about was your job and your friends and your family. Have you been reported missing yet?

“You must be hungry,” William said. “I’ll cook something for you. I’m not the best, but I don’t want you to wear yourself out.”

“It’s alright.” You waved his concern off, though it did tug at your heartstrings that he was worried. “I'll get some fast food.”

You dug through your pockets, hoping your wallet was still in there. Thankfully it was. You pulled it out and grabbed two crisp twenty-dollar bills, but William hissed and pushed it back in, his hand not leaving yours. 

“What are you doing carrying around that much money?” he asked, giving you an incredulous look. “How are you meant to protect yourself? Where’d you get that? Do you have a husband?”

You pushed his hand away. “I work. And what’s the problem?” 

You knew that the American dollar wasn’t equivalent to a British pound, but was the difference that bad? Sure, forty dollars was a lot of money if you were just going to a gas station or something, but nothing to get excited over. 

William huffed. “You can’t just show me that much money like that. What if I was a thief, hmm? What would you do then?”

“Are you?” you asked, not understanding why he was making such a big deal out of it.

“No. I’m a gentleman.”

You scoffed, amused, but there was a little smile on your face. “A gentleman?”

“Yes,” he insisted. “A proper man.”

There was a moment of silence between you both. You wanted him to hold you again, but you thought it would be best if you just went on your way. 

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said, getting up from the bed. “And bandaging me and all.” You gave him one of the bills. “I know it’s in dollars, but I’m sure you can convert it.”

William didn’t take the money. “You’re not leaving — you’re still hurt. I’d be remiss if I let a lass half as pretty as you alone on the streets.”

You chalked up his way of talking to the region. You honestly found it quite attractive. That, coupled with his British accent, made you feel like you were in one of those romance movies. You had to remind yourself that he wasn’t in love with you and that you were just acting irrational and horny.

“I’ll be fine. We’ll exchange numbers, do you have a charger?”

“What?”

“A phone charger. My phone’s probably dead.”

“The box?”

You narrowed your eyes. “No, the rectangle. The phone.”

“Ah, the one that glows?”

You briefly wondered if he simply didn’t know what a phone was. You knew some people preferred not to have modern technology in their life.

“Yes. I need to call someone — ”

“ — It stopped glowing.”

Great. William obviously didn’t have a charger. And if he didn’t know what it was, no one nearby would. All that was next to do would be to walk to a big city and hope someone there could help you get back home.

“Look, darling.” You ignored the way your heart fluttered when he called you that. “I don’t know what a phone is, or why you’re here, but I know that you still need to recover.”

“I appreciate it,” you said. “But I really have to go. I have work and — ”

“ — Surely you can take a day off. What is it you do?” William asked. 

“I’m a software developer. I code.”

William had a blank face. A pink blush dusted his cheeks. He cleared his throat, “I, er, I’ve never heard of that. You mean computers? The big ones that take up a room?”

“No, it’s not the fifties.”

“Well, 1946 is close.”

You didn’t know what to make of that. “What does 1946 have to do with this?”

William observed you intently. “The year. The year is 1946.”

You blinked. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be the 20th century — that was impossible. So many things were wrong with that. How come it was you who traveled in time? Why didn’t the government know about this? Even if you were ignoring the question of how, there were still so many whys.  

“No,” you said slowly, inching away from William. What kind of sick prank was this? He was supposed to be helping you, not confusing you. “You’re messing with me.”

William sensed that you were uncomfortable, because he backed away, his hands in the air. You could tell he was waiting for the perfect moment to get closer.

“I’m not a liar . . . Are you from the future?”

Fuck. You weren’t sure. How could that even be possible?

“No,” you said hesitantly. “I dunno, I must be . . .”

Your eyes subtly peered past William and at the door. If only you could get past him . . . 

You looked straight at the window, making sure to grab his attention. “Oh,” you whispered, putting on your best shocked expression. The moment he was distracted you sprinted past him and bolted out of the room and out the house, running across the field to the next house you could see. Your arm still hurt, but you were willing to shove down the pain.

“No, no, please!” William shouted, running after you. 

In just a minute, he had caught up to you and tackled you to the ground. He pinned your hands above your head and sat on your lower stomach, rendering you useless. His lips were so close to yours, and the look on his face was pissed.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice forceful, gripping onto your wrists tighter. 

“P-please,” you pathetically sputtered out. “Don’t hurt me.”

He didn’t budge. “I’m trying to help you — I’m not lying to you, and I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You’re hurting me now,” you cried, squirming.

William’s eyes softened as he realized what he was doing. “You promise not to run again?”

You nodded, your lower lip wobbling. 

“Alright.”

He still didn’t let go of you, but he did pull you up from the ground, wiping the dirt off of your back. Tears flowed down your cheek like rainwater, and you couldn’t help but curl in on yourself.

William held onto your arm as he walked you back to the house, not allowing you another chance of escape, but he did wipe your tears gently and soothe you. You felt embarrassed. Why did you run? You had acted purely on instinct there. This man was clearly only trying to help. 

“Look,” he said softly, sitting you back down on the bed like a child. “I’ll take you into town, hmm? Show you around and all — maybe that’ll convince you. You must be quite far into the future to be dressing like that and to have a . . . phone with you, so things will be different, right? What year are you from?”

“. . . 2023.”

“I knew it. On your phone, there was a date. I wasn’t sure then, but . . .” William suddenly reached his hands up and rubbed his thumb across your chapped lips, catching you off guard. “They’re dry,” he said. “I’ll draw up a bath for you so you can bathe while I cook. I’ll get you some lotion afterward.”

You nodded. What else could you do?

+++

William had cooked some simple fish and chips while you cleaned yourself. You had to use a tin tub, which was insane to you, but you didn’t complain about it. He supplied you with clothing, an old-fashioned dress his mother had accidentally left here. You were grateful it was not from some ex-girlfriend or wife, even though you had no right to feel that way. You put aside your other clothes to wash later.

After finishing with that, you sat down at the dining table, and like the hungry girl you were, you gobbled the food down eagerly. It was so fresh and delicious, not at all like the food you had in the future, pumped with chemicals and artificially bred. You tried to be as neat as you could, but it was difficult when you were starving. William had watched on with amusement, telling you to slow down and straighten your back every once in a while.

He took the plates away when you both were done, and then did as he promised and gave you some lotion, but instead of letting you apply it, he took a bit of cream on his fingers and rubbed it on your lips. “Stay still,” he murmured. 

“I-I can do it—”

“No, you can’t. You’re still injured.”

You understood his reasoning. And you didn’t mind him touching you like that.

“The rest of my body is dry, too,” you blurted out.

What were you thinking? You didn’t even know this man. Trying to get him to touch the rest of your body — stupid girl.

William’s breathing hitched. “As in . . . your knees as well?”

“. . .”

He cleared his throat. “Well, then. Put them out, over my lap.”

You bit your lower lip, watching on as he rubbed his hands over your legs. His touch was so warm and it felt more like a massage. You felt bad about doing this, leading him on. If he was right about the time travel, then you couldn’t entertain any sort of relationship with him. It wouldn’t be fair. 

But it was just an act of service. It didn’t mean much, right?

“Oh, that’s nice,” you said, resting your head on the bed. You felt a bit off allowing a random man to do this to you, but he wasn’t random now, was he? He had saved you. And besides, he was he who insisted he rub the lotion in the first place.

“What is the future like?” William asked. “Is there another war?”

“Sort of. Not really,” you answered, which panicked William. “Don’t worry. If you’re talking about America and Russia, no one dies.”

William chuckled. “I should hope not. I don’t fancy serving in another world war.”

“You served?” you asked curiously. 

“Yes. As a captain in the British Army.”

You supposed it was normal. Most men in this time either signed up for the military or were drafted. You couldn’t imagine the horrors William must have gone through. You would never be able to understand the trauma he carried with him. You were curious, but you knew better than to ask. He didn’t need your pity, and you certainly didn’t want to offend him.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“For what?”

“That it had to happen. War and all that.”

“Does war not happen in the future?”

Now you felt a little stupid.

“Well — yes. It does. I’m just sorry. We learned about the world wars in history — and I just — I’m not claiming to know anything. Yeah, sorry.” You looked down.

William didn’t say anything to that. He just kept rubbing your dry skin. Afterward, he put the lotion away and sat next to you, running his fingers through your hair.

“I expect stories from you. I want to hear everything about the future.” 

You still didn’t believe you were in the past, at least, not completely.

 “You can tell me as we pass through town,” he added.

“I need to wash my clothes first.”

Willian narrowed his eyes. “You’re not going to wear that anymore.”

“Why not?”

He pursed his lips. “It’s too revealing. A woman should never go out wearing those types of clothing.” He sighed. “Perhaps it’s different in the future, but here, you’ll get hurt if you dress like that.” He continued playing with your hair. “I want you to be safe. So, you have to promise me that you’ll stay by my side at all times, yes?”

You nodded. You always thought that if you caught men talking to you like this, you would slap them, but here you were, turned on by William’s sexism. It was different, you reasoned. He was more focused on protecting you than restricting you. Was it bad that you found that hot?

“Good girl,” he said proudly. “Good girl.”

+++

Walking through town had been more of a frightening experience than you expected. You realized, without a shadow of a doubt, that you were indeed in the past. Producing a prank with this level of investment and money was pointless, and you never had any mental issues in the past, so why would one suddenly show up now? And even if it did, you couldn’t possibly be imagining this all in your head. 

All the cars were shiny and new, yet old models, ones that wouldn’t be produced in the future. All the women and men wore traditional clothing, like the dress William picked out for you. The hairstyles were medium-length and curled, or slicked back, with lots of gel and products used to keep them in place. You were grateful William didn’t ask you to do any of that. Not that you would have let him. At a certain point, you would have drawn a line.

“I have to get back,” you told William as you walked on a trail. “The machine has something to do with it. I just have to figure out how it works.”

“That’s an engineering job,” he pointed out.

“I’m good at math and science. I work in advanced technology, so I should be able to figure something out. All it needs is a bit of testing . . . I was wondering if I could stay with you for a while until I figure out a place to stay. I’ll give you all the money I have and I promise I’ll find a job — ”

“ — No need. Stay as long as you like. I don’t want your money. I won’t stop you from finding a job, but it’s not necessary. I can handle any expenses.”

You didn’t argue with him. He didn’t seem averse to the idea of letting a stranger stay at his place. It made sense. People in this time were more hospitable and open (at least, when they felt like it), and William, being a man from the forties, would never allow you to carry any of the financial burden.

You still felt a little bad. 

“Thank you. It means a lot to me. Now, what is it you want to hear about the future?”

William’s eyes lit up excitedly. “Do flying cars exist?”

You chuckled. “No. But we have self-driving ones.”

“Self-driving? How do they work?”

You paused. You had no idea. “I’m not sure. They probably have sensors to detect other cars. And, well, there’s a map. So it’s connected to a satellite . . .”

“Satellite?”

“It’s this thing in space. It does . . . stuff. It’s manmade.”

“Space? Have we discovered alien life?”

“No. But we have sent rovers to Mars and we’ve landed a person on the moon.”

William stopped walking. “The moon?” he repeated, bewildered. “Have you gone?”

I wish. “It’s only for astronauts. You have to be trained for that sort of stuff.”

“And when did this all happen?”

“Around the 1960s. There was a space race between America and Russia, and America won.”

Once you got the ball rolling, William would not stop asking questions. You answered them as best as you could and avoided topics like the current political climate and weaponry and all that. After he was done with all the serious stuff, like advancements in science and whether robots had taken over the world yet, he moved on to more social and cultural topics. You were relieved to find out that he wasn’t racist or homophobic or incredibly misogynistic. If anything he was rather tame about it all, and was glad that women had earned more rights, though he seemed upset that the dynamic of a gentlemanly husband and lady-like housewife wasn’t pushed upon society. 

“There’s nothing wrong with things going the opposite way around,” he had said. “Two people of the same gender marrying. It’s only that women need to be looked after, and if she doesn’t want to work, then it is her man’s obligation to do it for her. And in return, she must be obedient and serve him whenever he pleases — whether it’s by cleaning the house or . . . other things.”

“And what if she doesn’t want it?” you questioned, referring to the other things.

“A man should always make sure she likes it.”

You could practically feel all the feminism leaving your body at that.

The conversation ended when you reached back home (home? It’s not your home, you reminded yourself). William replaced your bandages with care. You were already starting to feel better, since the cut wasn’t too big, and you offered to help with cooking dinner this time.

After that, you decided to tinker with the box.

It was made out of some type of metal, with two different dials on the top and a button on the side. But it wasn’t like anything you’d ever seen before. The first dial went from zero to nine (zero being nulla) in Roman numerals, and had four hands, each of them colored in order: red, green, blue, and yellow. Respectively, there were four tiny colored knobs on the side, like the ones by a watch, where you could move each hand. The other dial was the same case.

“It must be the date,” you said aloud to yourself. “But which is which?”

Taking a gamble, you pressed the button, but it didn’t do anything. All it did was signal a small lens to start blinking red. 

“Are you sure you should do that now?” William asked, coming up from behind you. “Look at this.” He crouched to your level on the floor. “Your eyes have bags underneath them. You’re still tired.”

You rubbed the area beneath your eyes. Did they really have bags? You hadn’t realized.

“I should probably go to sleep then,” you said, putting the box down and getting up.

William walked you over to the bedroom, and was about to leave when you asked, “Where are you sleeping?”

“The couch.”

You frowned. “It’s your house and I’m your guest. You’ve already done so much for me – ”

“— If you’re going to suggest you sleep on the couch, then it’s a no. That’s final.”

“But — ”

“ — Final.”

You sighed. “Then come sleep with me. I’ll stay on the floor—”

“ — No—”

“ — Then we can share the bed. We’ll put a wall of pillows between us, like this.” You grabbed a pillow and placed it in the middle of the bed, separating the two sides. “Not so bad, see?”

William relented. “Alright.”

He crawled into bed with you. His hair fell over his face as he adjusted, and the last rays of sunlight coated his body in colors of orange and yellow. If your phone wasn’t dead, you would have asked him to sit still for a picture, because at this moment, he truly looked breathtaking. He was a beautiful man. You wondered if he knew it.

“What?” William asked when he noticed you staring.

Flustered, you turned your head to look up at the ceiling. “Nothing. I was just making sure you were comfy.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see William lick his lower lip. 

“You’re a sweet lass,” he commented. “You always think about others first.”

He reached over, and for a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you (which, admittedly, despite having had a wet dream about him, scared you), but he only brushed a small speck of dust off your shoulders and murmured “Goodnight”, before burying his chin into the blanket and drifting off into sleep.

You followed in suit soon after. A part of you was hoping that you could start a life here. You’d buy a nice house and live out a simple and peaceful life. You and William didn’t even have to be romantically involved. You could just be friends, and you would be happy with that. 

But a part of you also hoped that when you woke up the next morning you would be back in your own bed, in your small one-story house that you remember being so excited about buying. You knew you would never like living here in the long term. There were too many things wrong with this time and you didn’t want to be the brunt of its issues. Not only that but being aware of all the tragedies that would soon occur . . . Did you want to be faced with the moral dilemma of whether or not you should stop them? How would your presence affect things in the future? After living your whole life in 2023, you could never adjust to life in 1946. 

You had to find a way back. There was simply no other choice. 

+++

William showed you many things. Just as he was interested in the future, you were interested in the past. The things that excited you most of all were old-school versions of what you had in the future. Washing machines, refrigerators — they were all so different, yet the same, and it was fascinating. 

You even met a few people in town. They were nice enough to hold a conversation with, though they found it weird that you lacked decorum and the social understanding of the time. The women were chatty and mildly passive-aggressive, and the men — well, the men flirted with you quite openly.

William had told people that you were family, someone related but not close enough to be bothered with technical terms like cousin or niece. No one asked questions when you two explained it like that. All the men must have thought that if you were his family and that if you had no ring on your finger you must be looking for a partner.

You were charmed by their advances, but never serious about them. Besides, William hardly let them get a word in before he shooed them away.

By the time weeks and weeks had passed you became acquainted with everyone, seen every sight to see — including the swan lake William took you to — and become close enough to William that he opened up to you. You learned that while he wasn’t an orphan, his parents never held much interest in him other than the occasional birthday letter, and the reason he came out here so far away from the city was to find peace of mind.

You grew to admire him, and you were sure he grew to admire you, too. And soon, you started to feel a certain type of way. A way that made you daydream about all the things that could be, only for reality to stomp across it and remind you of the harsh truth. 

+++

William was driving a car, a modern car, your car. He was humming a little tune on the radio, singing some lyrics, hands loosely holding the wheel as he passed by a gas station. It was some Taylor Swift song, and you remember faintly thinking: Of course, he likes Taylor Swift.

He looked over to you. You were sitting by his side, a passenger princess, looking out the window. All of a sudden it was night and you two were driving down a lonely road, parking by the side of some lake. In the distance, you could hear crickets and ribbits, but you paid them no mind.

You were curled up in William’s arms, looking out the sunroof of the car, the light of the moon gently descending through the glass. You offered him a piece of chocolate, and you two just sat there, in the dark, nibbling on snacks and observing the sky, until you woke up.  

+++

William had to leave for work, like usual. He again told you not to leave his property line or stray out too far, which, again, was fine by you because most days were cold and bitter.

You spent your time messing around with the box, careful not to touch the wires in the back. Once you put your mind to it, you figured out how it worked. You paid attention to where the hands were currently located and found something promising. The first dial’s hands had the numbers I, IX, IV, and VI, and the second dial was nulla, IX, nulla, and V. Alone, you wouldn’t have been able to tell what the numbers meant, but with context, you understood. The first dial was the year, and the second one was the month and date.

You didn’t quite understand how the box brought you from the future, but that didn’t matter, as it was broken. There was a little loose piece on the backside that had been damaged — a little dent, probably when you were first transported here. All you had to do was plug it back in, but the only problem was, you didn’t have a screwdriver, and you certainly weren’t going to wrench your fingers near a bunch of wires.

When William came back you told him your solution. He agreed and said that tomorrow he would take you to a local store to buy a screwdriver, and he even apologized for not having one in his house. But for now, he said he wanted to take you out to lunch.

“Lunch?” you questioned nervously. Was he asking you out on a date?

You thought about it for a moment. You did want to go, but your mind was too preoccupied with getting back to your time. Besides, it wasn’t fair to him. You did like him, but you two could never actually be together. It was all in your head.

It’s all in your head.

“You know I’ll have to go back someday,” you said, watching William’s expression become more neutral as if he was hiding his emotions. “I dunno . . . I’m getting a little attached to you,” you said with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

William seemed to understand where you were going with this. “It won’t be like that. I wouldn’t blame you,” he said earnestly, taking a step forward. “We ought to enjoy our time together, while it’s still here.”

He made a valid point, enough to convince you. He had been doing that an awful lot. Convincing you. 

William took you out to a nice restaurant. The food was a bit plain, but it was good and wholesome. It reminded you a lot of William’s cooking, only fancier and more well-presented. Not only that, but the atmosphere felt calming and almost romantic. You noticed that most of the people here were couples, holding hands and giggling with each other, however young or old.

Was this William’s intention? Did he like like you? Or was this just him being courteous? You couldn’t imagine that many people here were used to dating or one-night stands. But you wouldn’t know unless you asked him, and you were too nervous to do that. Besides, you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself. William was a very traditional man, would he even want a woman like you? A 21st-century girl?

After you two were finished eating you engaged in another walk. 

“Come closer,” William said, holding out his arm for you to take. If you didn’t have any self-control, you would have jumped his bones right then and there. He was right. He was a gentleman. No man in the future would have done this for you unless they were trying to make a joke out of it.

You placed your hand on William’s arm hesitantly, trying to figure out the exact placement, walking side by side with him. It was a little cold, however, and you shivered, catching William’s attention almost instantly.

“Oh, you poor thing,” William cooed, talking of his coat and wrapping it around you. It smelled of him, a little musky, smoky like a cigarette, but in a very subtle way. “You’re so nervous. Have you never had a man do this for you?” he asked. “Hold out his arm for you to take, give you his coat?”

“No,” you admitted. “Men don’t do that in the future.”

“I do,” he said, stopping both of you in your tracks. The area was secluded, mostly covered in trees and bushes, far away from any passerby. “I would do that for my woman.”

It was quiet for a moment.

“Well,” you said, wistfully, “whoever she is she’ll be a lucky woman.”

+++

William took you to a local shop to buy a screwdriver next. It all felt very domestic, something that you could get used to. You imagined running errands like this with William in the future. He would be absolutely fascinated by a grocery store, by the internet, by everything. If you thought hard, you could see it — a wondrous smile on his face, a giggle escaping his lips. 

You tried not to think of it that much. After your fantasy passed your thoughts turned sad and cold, because you knew that would never happen. It will never happen. As much as you liked William, you missed your family, you missed your house, you missed everything.

When you both got back home, you plugged the broken piece in and screwed the nail. William watched on beside you, a frown on his face, drinking some tea.

“Here,” he said, inching closer, “I don’t want you exerting pressure on your arm. Let me do it.”

He grabbed a hold of the screwdriver, but he bumped into you in the process. With a gasp, he dropped his cup of tea. It shattered across the floor, glass pieces flying every, hot liquid (thankfully not boiling) splashing all over. You shrieked and backed away, watching as one of the glass shards cut right through one of the wires.

“William!” you snapped, but then your eyes turned watery, because of the cut on your hand.

He immediately went over to you, careful not to step on any glass, and picked you up bridal style, moving you away from the mess and towards the couch. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathed out, looking panicked. “It was an honest mistake — I’m so so sorry, I can’t believe I just did that — are you hurt?”

You laughed at the absurdity of it all, even though you were clutching your finger in pain. It was a very small cut, something that would be healed within a day. “Calm down, William. I’m fine. Are you hurt?”

He shook his head, looking worried, or perhaps, scared was the right word. Yet, you couldn’t figure out why.

“William,” you said slowly. “It’s fine. You do realize we can just fix the wire? I just need a heat-shrinking tube and a soldering iron, nothing I haven’t done before.”

“. . . Oh.”

His tone made you wonder about his intentions. You’d been so caught up on how good of a person he was, helping you and giving you room and food, but really, what was his motive? Because it almost felt like he was trying to get you to stay . . . It sent a sinister feeling down your spine, albeit a tug on your heartstrings as well.

What do you want from me, William? What do you want?

+++

More time had passed. It was difficult to acquire things in this small town, and it occurred to you that such resources were not readily available at this time. You didn’t want to bother William by pestering him to go into the city for materials, so while you would bring up the topic every once in a while, you mostly kept quiet.

You took the chance to relish your break. After all, you weren’t working. It was like a fully paid vacation, so you might as well take advantage of it.

William still had a job, but when he came back, you two would just talk and talk and talk, conversations so smoothly flowing that it felt like you’d known him for years. When you weren’t talking, you were still in each other’s presence, doing your own thing. Occasionally, William would make sneaky moves like wrap his arm around your shoulder, or do the la bise. He claimed he was part French, and it was part of his custom, but even if that were true, you knew the la bise didn’t involve full-on smooches on the cheek.

You never stopped him from doing things like that, but you also never reciprocated, despite how badly you wanted to. All this stalling wouldn’t change the fact that you still had to leave. Not only that, but you were starting to feel homesick. 

You missed calling your friends late at night, you missed watching colored TV, and you missed hot showers. You missed easy-access painkillers for your periods, and searching all your queries on the internet. You missed the future. Badly. And you could just feel that the day of return was near.

+++

“You dance, yes?”

Snapped out of your thoughts, you turned to William. You were both lounging on his couch, relaxing, talking, as the time passed by. He had given you a magazine to read, but you weren’t reading it, just dozing off.

You shrugged. “Yeah. I’ve gone to clubs. But — no, I can’t dance like that — William,” you whined, half-heartedly struggling as he pulled you up to you feet. “I’m going to ruin it, I don’t know where to place my feet or — ”

“ — You could never ruin anything, darling. Your presence alone is enough to satisfy me.” 

You looked away. “You can’t say things like that, William.”

“Why not?”

You took his hands off you before he could even start the music. 

“I don’t like it,” you lied.

William frowned. “That’s alright. Let me hold you. I know you enjoy that.” He chuckled. “When we first met you wouldn’t let go of me.”

The memory, still fresh in your mind, made you flustered. 

“. . . William, what do you want from me?” you decided to ask.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean — what do you want from me?”

William licked his lower lip. “Nothing. I just want to take care of you.”

“But why?”

You could practically feel William’s nervousness. It was like when he dropped that glass. He radiated an almost jumbled energy, a desperate energy.

“Haven’t I made it more obvious?” he finally said, his hands on your waist. He brought his fingers up to brush the hair out of your face. “Am I not clear?”

You knew what he was going to say. But you wanted to hear it from him. “Clear about what?”

“I want you.” Your heart started beating. “I don’t care if you’re not from this time. I don’t care if you have a life in the future — I can be better. I can be your life.”

“. . . William.”

“Don’t take that tone with me,” he said, tilting your chin up so you could look him in the eyes. “I know you want me too. I can see it.”

“But we can’t,” you weakly protested.

“So is this what you do?” His tone grew more sharp. “Imagine things in your head and never act on them?”

You stayed silent. He was putting you in such a difficult position, couldn’t he see that?

“What’s wrong?” he continued. “Am I not good enough?”

“William,” you tried to pull away. “I have to go — ”

He locked you in his arms. Your body was so close your noses were brushing up against each other, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Maybe you’re worried I can’t please you right.”

You could have shouted. Why was he being so forceful? You ignored the way your body grew warm — you couldn’t do this. You couldn’t and so you wouldn’t. 

“I don’t want it,” you lied again.

“Well, I told you, a wife should always submit to her husband’s desires.”

“We’re not married!”

“We will be.”

You froze.

William took your silence as an opportunity. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, turning his head slightly as his hand rested on the back of your head. You were caught off guard but didn’t try to push away. It felt so nice, and warm and inviting. Why you were denying yourself this? Why were you denying yourself love?

When your lips parted, a string of saliva connecting you both, you placed your hands on his chest. You had an idea. A brilliant idea. Why hadn’t you thought of this before? “William. I still have to go, but — ”

He growled and lifted you up, carrying you over to his bedroom, tossing you onto the bed, and pinning you down on the mattress. “No. I won’t let you. I won’t let you! Don’t you understand? I’m perfect for you — I can — I can.” He looked miserable. In fact, he looked like he was about to cry. “Let me show you,” he said, determined. He started unbuckling his belt with one hand. “Let me show you what I can do.”

You hadn’t realized how hard William was, but when he finally took out his cock — fat and pale, with pre-cum leaking at the tip, his balls a little hairy, you gulped, the area between your legs getting wetter.

“Take off your panties,” he ordered. “And lift up that damn dress.”

You didn’t. To be honest, you were a little frightened by his behavior.

William sighed and did it for you, spreading your legs apart, only for you to shut them close. “You don’t even have a condom!”

“I’ll put out,” he said impatiently, forcing your legs apart again. You gasped, not expecting contact to be made so soon.

He rubbed his cock against your wet cunt, soaking himself. He had this satisfied smile on his face, eyes closed for just a moment, before he looked down at you. 

“I thought I’d have to warm you up a little,” he said. “You’re beau — stop it! Don’t struggle.”

He held your arms down as you writhed. “Please, William — I believe you,” you said. “You can fuck me good. Just listen — ”

William shook his head. “You’re the one who's supposed to listen. Listen and take it.”

With that, he pushed his cock in and started thrusting, hard and fast, your hands still pinned, his face contorted in pleasure. His moans were loud and shameless. He had his head right above yours, peppering small kisses on your lips. You tried to ignore how good it felt — him inside of you, but it was becoming increasingly difficult by the moment. 

“Ah, I knew you weren’t a virgin,” he said, noticing the lack of blood or discomfort. “That’s okay — I still love you.”

“Love?” you repeated, trying to focus, but your abilities were lost when he used his thumb to rub your clit. “Wa-a-it!”

“Don’t say that,” William said, his tone surprisingly soft given how rough his movements were. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought you didn’t want it. Just enjoy. Enjoy me.”

The bed was starting to creak, moving back and forth, rubbing up against the wood floor. Your breasts were bouncing, catching William’s eyes every once in a while. His cock slid in and out of you with precision, hitting that swollen part inside of you every time. His thumb on your clit only added to the intense sensation. 

Your eyes fluttered shut, and you stopped struggling. You let your head hit the pillow, mouth parted, breathing heavy and hot. At the same time, you were overcome with a feeling of hurt. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it, but for him to take you so forcibly . . . and for you to actually like it . . .

“Are you alright?” he asked, slowing down his pace a little. He looked you in the eyes. “Do you feel good?”

You thought about lying, about crying out No, please stop!, but that wasn’t the truth, and in the end, your desires overcame you. “Y-yes. I want more.”

William relaxed, and his grip on you loosened. He placed one hand on your hip, the other by the side of your head. 

“You’re beautiful,” he praised. “Every day I look at you and think of how grateful I am that I found you. Laying there in that field, little flowers around you. An angel. My angel.”

You wanted to tell him how grateful you were, too. That it was him who took you in and not someone else, but the words never came out, only sighs and moans, but he seemed to understand what you were trying to say. 

Another kiss.

“You’re soaking me. You’re soaking the sheets.”

A little embarrassed, you turned your head. “M’sorry.”

William forced you to look back at him. “Don’t be sorry. I like knowing how eager you are for me.” 

Another kiss, but this time he slipped his tongue in, sweeping against yours before he pulled away, a string of saliva breaking as he did.

“We’ll live here,” he continued, his thrusts becoming more erratic, “in this house. Together. I’ll take you to the movies, we’ll have picnics in the garden, and I’ll write you love songs on the piano. We’ll have children — a girl, I hope — and she’ll look just like you. It’ll be wonderful,” he promised. “I’ll make you so happy, and you’ll make me happy, too.”

You couldn’t help but ruin the moment. “If I did that I would never see my parents again.”

He frowned and didn’t say anything. Then, “I think you’re getting agitated. You need to come, that’s it. You need to come and then you’ll finally understand what it is you’ll be missing out on if you leave.”

“T-that’s not the point — ”

“ — I’m so close,” he murmured. “Fill you up, so damn tight. Ah, you’re perfect.”

When you realized what he meant your eyes widened and you shook your head adamantly. “You said you’d pull out!”

“That was before. I’ve changed my mind.”

You felt familiar pressure build up inside of you. You could imagine yourself, breasts big with milk, belly round and smooth, William reading children’s books to your unborn baby as if he could be heard. The thought alone made you sickly sweet, the idea that life between you and him could be so domestic.

But couldn’t he just wait for a moment?

“I’ll — ah — be with you — every step of the way,” he grunted. “I won’t leave you. So, don’t be scared.”

“William,” you said shakily. “Just listen — ”

But it was too late. Collapsing on top of you, William poured his hot seed inside your cunt, his whimper addicting, like it was something you could hear a thousand times over. A few seconds later, you fell victim to the same fate, and there you two lay, with each other, chests heaving, bodies sweaty and sticky, coming down from the heights of ecstasy. 

You could feel his heart pound against yours. Thump, thump, thump. And you could feel yours as well. To think that this man had just gotten you pregnant. It all happened so quickly. It happened so quickly and you were completely fine with it.

“William,” you said after finally catching your breath, turning to face him. “You know I still have to go.”

It was his turn to cry. His tears watered up, glassy, his lower lip trembling, but you could tell he was doing his best to keep it in. “But I love you,” he whispered. “Am I not enough?”

It broke your heart to see him like this. So vulnerable in front of you. It was then you knew you were making the right choice, a hundred percent. You had finally found your match. And to think that you almost let him go . . . 

“But I want you to come with me,” you said, hopeful. “Come with me, William. Come with me to the future.”

Taglist: @henrywintersdearestgirl @shroombloom-rry @meetmeatyourworst @mrkdvidal1989 @madnessandobsession @slut4thebroken @qqquartz7 @madeinuk

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

2024 KINKTOBER TAG LIST

This will not be the official master list post, but here are my prompts and characters for this years kinktober. Any interaction with this post will have you added to my taglist for October :)

Would love to know which one you’re most excited for !!

Also if you’ve read any of my fics you’d know what type of warnings i’ll be using 👀

01.10 Blood with Jackson Rippner

02.10 Red Riding Hood AU with Emmett

03.10 Car Sex with Neil Lewis

04.10 Wax Play with Jonathan Crane

05.10 Shoe Worship with Tommy Shelby

06.10 Professor AU with Cillian Murphy

07.10 Hate Fuck with Raymond Leon

08.10 Mirror Sex with Robert Fischer

09.10 Mr and Mrs Smith AU with Jackson Rippner

10.10 Cunnilingus with William Killick

11.10 Marking with Robert Capa

12.10 Sex Tape with Jonathan Breech

13.10 Regency AU with Tommy Shelby

14.10 Pet Play with Jonathan Crane

15.10 Caught Masterbating with Jim (TDS)

16.10 Little Mermaid AU with Matthew Joy

17.10 Mind Control with Tom Buckley

18.10 Body Worship with Lenny Miller

19.10 Spit with Emmett

20.10 Marvel AU with Cillian!Dr Doom

21.10 69 with Darren (Pig)

22.10 Overstimulation with Tom

23.10 Hogwarts AU with Jonathan Crane

24.10 Outdoor Sex with Tommy Shelby

25.10 Spanking with Martin

26.10 Somnophilia with Mike Kieran

27.10 ABO AU with Raymond Leon

28.10 Dumbification with Jim (28DL)

29.10 Facial with Shivering Solider

30.10 Romeo and Juliet AU with Robert Fischer

31.10 Double Penetration with Jonathan Crane & Jackson Rippner

[ceirinen]

December 2023

I decided to make a list of every fic I read each month.

I would like to interact more, but life has been complicated recently and when it comes to interacting, I get very anxious which is something I'm trying to overcome.

So, here I made this to appreciate such amazing writers and stories that inspire me and others everyday. To the authors, I want to thank them for their dedication and time spent on writing to offer us fascinating stories.

I totally recommend their work.

(If you are in this list and you don't want to, please let me know so I can fix it).

@cillianmesoftlyyy

So New | Cillian Murphy x fem!reader Method Acting | young!Cillian Murphy x Reader

@runnning-outof-time

Research | Tommy Shelby x Reader Bedtime Stories | Tommy Shelby x Reader & Daughter

@zablife

teacher!Luca Changretta x Reader Funeral | Tommy Shelby x sister!reader A Visit to the Peaky Blinders Set | Cillian Murphy x wife!reader

@gypsy-girl-08

Festive Spirit | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader All I Need... | modern!Thomas Shelby x Reader A Gentle Warning | Thomas Shelby x wife!Reader

@pacifymebby

Arthur Shelby x Reader

@fkmarrycill

Pre-Gaming | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@holacia3

Lost and Lucky | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader Surprise visit | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader

@beastofburdenxo

Let Me Praise You | Tommy Shelby x Reader Raising Catherine | Tommy Shelby x Reader

@look-at-the-soul

If I let you go | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@your-nanas-house

What does my princess want? | sugar daddy!Cillian Murphy x sugar baby!reader I'm pretty sure you're mine | sub!William Killick x dom!fem!Reader What are we, idiot? | Neil Lewis x best friend!Reader Thirsty | Tommy Shelby x secretary!Reader

@raincoffeeandfandoms

To the end of the world | Alfie Solomons x fem!oc Tommy, the teddy bear | Alfie Solomons x fem!oc Emergency surgery | baby!Tommy Shelby Fanfiction | Alfie Solomons x fem!oc Anon | Alfie Solomons

@lis-likes-fics

Loner | Edward Cullen x Reader At the End of the Day | Tommy Shelby x wife!Reader

@rafeology

Mentor!Finnick Odair x victor!reader

@wife-of-all-dilfs

Flower Therapy | Finnick Odair x Reader

@darlingsfandom

Cillian Murphy x Reader Tommy Shelby x artist!reader Soft sugar daddy | Robert Fischer x Reader

@pinguwrites

Home Is Where the Heart Is | William Killick x future!reader

@http-finnick

Skin to skin | Finnick Odair x fem!insomniac!reader

@acewritesfics

Lost Love | Tommy Shelby x Reader 36 Minutes | modern! Tommy Shelby x Reader

@dearshelby

Had you first | Tommy Shelby x Reader Little Tommy | Thomas Shelby x oc

@lau219

Red Carpet | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@peakyswritings

I Do Bad Things | demon!Tommy x Reader

@shelbystales

Ceramic Lessons | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@darthannie

Day eighteen: breeding kink with Lenny Miller | Lenny Miller x f!Reader

@hllywdwhre

Afterglow | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@red-write-hand

I'll be home for Christmas | Thomas Shelby x Reader

@mysaintkitten

Bad Behaviour | Mike Kiernan x fem!Reader

@notyour-valentine

The Spirits that I summoned | young!Tommy Shelby

@brummiereader

No Son Of Mine | Tommy Shelby

@youbyradiohead

Strawberry Syrup | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@cillianthinker

British accent | Cillian Murphy x Reader Young and in love | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@cillspropertea

Coming home | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@cillmequick

Operation Christmas Tree | modern!Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

[saintmuses]

❝𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙙, 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮❞

Pairing:

Soft!Dark!William Killick x Stepdaughter!Reader

Summary:

William’s stepdaughter went out for a fun night with her girls, ended up dancing with another man at a pub, and came home late.

Warning(s): Implied dub-con, implied age gap (everyone’s grown). step-cest. Infidelity. Mentions of violence but not towards the reader. Minors, dni!

Word Count: 1.4k

Upon returning to the cab, Y/N got in, feeling dejected and let down by her poor luck. The ride back to her home was a quiet one, her girlfriends chatting excitedly about their night while she just sat there, her mind filled with all kinds of anxious thoughts.

When she finally arrived back home, she thanked her friends for the ride and said goodbye before rushing inside the house.

She was greeted by silence as she entered the foyer. The house was still, and the only sound she could hear was her footsteps as she walked forward.

She realized that her mother was still out of the house, and William was home due to a few stray beams of light that escaped the living room and gave her a slight amount of light to see the hallway.

Although she saw the light from the living room, which she knew he was watching telly on a new television cabinet that came out earlier this year. She was going to walk past the living room, hoping he wouldn’t call for her.

She bent down to take her heels off her feet before tiptoeing down the hallway and headed upstairs to her bedroom, hoping that he wouldn't notice her. But before she could get too far on the stairs, she heard a voice rang out from the living room and it was William’s voice calling her name.

She bit her lip, knowing that he was anxious since she did not leave him any note of where she was going for a night out. She walked towards the living room, “yeah?” She asked nervously.

When she turned around the corner, she saw her stepfather staring at her with his arms crossed. The look on his face was stern and brooding, as if he was trying to read her mind and figure out what she was hiding.

"Where have you been?" he inquired, his tone strict and serious.

“Dancing.” She said simply. It was harmless.

William tilted his head to the side slightly, “that’s it?” he asked, his voice dripping with suspicion. He couldn’t help but feel a surge of possessiveness rummaging through his veins. She was dancing with other men in a club, and her behavior was nothing short of provocative. He couldn’t help but wonder what she was up to.

“Yes. The girls called and asked me to join them for a night out. And I decided why not.” She said softly, placing the heels on the first step on the staircase.

"Do you know what men do whenever they see a pretty girl like you?" He pressed, his tone growing sharp. "Are you aware of what kind of men frequent these clubs?"

She bit the inside of her mouth, “apparently that’s the least of my worries.” She muttered; an expression of contempt flitted across her face.

The expression on William’s face darkened even more upon hearing her words. His face twisted into a scowl, his anger growing with each passing moment.

“And why would you say that?” he inquired, his voice demanding.

She chuckled dryly, “they refused to dance with William Killick’s stepdaughter once they realized who I was.” She stared up at him with frustration in her depths.

"Is that what you think?" William asked sarcastically, his tone becoming even more accusatory as his eyes flashed icily. "Do you honestly believe that they refused to dance with you because you are my stepdaughter?"

“Yes, when they’re the ones who heard stories about you.” She hissed; her eyes widened with fury. “Even one of them told me that they were at the pub the night you had hit an older woman while being inebriated, and on top of that you shot a cottage full of people!”

He sighed, running his hand down his face as a clear sign of momentarily distress. Although it happened five years ago, he had hope she would never hear the stories that happened that night because he did not want her to not feel safe around him and selfishly, he did not want any obstacles influencing the bond they had now.

Oblivious to his inner turmoil that was rolling through him, she continued. “After they realized who I am, then they refused to dance with me any longer because they’re afraid of what you’ll do to them.” She murmured, dejected as she twiddled the hem of her dress.

"And can't you blame them?" He asked, his tone becoming harsher with each passing moment. His hands clenched into tight fists, his body starting to tremble with rage. "Do you know how protective a man usually is about his daughter? How he would do anything to protect her and keep her safe?"

“Well, their words were ‘he’s overprotective, I don’t want to get on his bad side’ as if I didn’t know that.” she said dryly.

"Of course, I'm overprotective," he snapped with an angry scowl, "but that's because you mean the world to me. How could I possibly let anyone else have you? Why would I need someone else to protect you, or love you, when I'm right here? When it's my job? My duty? To watch over and care for you?"

She stared at him with wide eyes, she would never think he would get so fired up over the argument they had about her dancing with strangers who evidently knew or heard of William’s episode that night.

Then a sigh escaped from her lungs before moving towards the living room to sit on the couch. “It’s not that. To them I will always be Y/N, the stepdaughter of William, the one they refused to dance with due to your temperament. They can’t see that I’m just a person who’s trying to live my life, and I can’t because I’m your stepdaughter that people refused to dance with.” 

He couldn't even believe what he was hearing right now. The idea that other men would refuse to dance with her simply because they considered her to be his daughter didn't sit well with him. Which also played into his favor. He had no interest in sharing his stepdaughter with anyone else.

"So, you are saying that people would only dance with you if they didn't know who you are?" he inquired, his tone sharper than ever.

“Yes. One did for a short time before they realized who I am.” She said bitterly, dragging her hands from the hem of her dress to fold and crossing her arms as if she was protecting herself against something.

It sent chills down William’s spine to imagine some random man holding her in his arms and caressing her, dancing with her and seduce her all at once. And it only made him more furious to know that someone had seen to that.

“Well, I don’t want them dancing with you either,” he replied in an agitated voice, “I don’t want anyone dancing with you.”

She looked up at him sharply, “what is that supposed to mean?” She asked with wide eyes.

“You heard me,” he replied, his voice dripping with anger. “You’re my stepdaughter, and as long as you live under my roof, you won’t be going out and dancing with other men.”

She had let out a scoff, shaking her head slightly before peering up at him. “And what would happen if I moved out?” She asked calmly. She was of age -had been for a few years now- to move out of her home.

“Then you can do whatever you want,” he replied, the fury in his voice growing stronger. “But you’re not going to leave, are you? Because I am sure as hell not letting you go.”

Unwilling to accept her refusal to abide by his rules, his temperament reached new heights. He couldn’t let someone else have her, not even the other men out there. He wanted her for himself. The one line he had tried to stop himself from crossing was apparently drawn in the sand since it was rapidly disappearing.

He stepped toward her, towering over her as his possessiveness reaching an extreme intensity, “You’re mine. You hear me? Mine."

She inhaled sharply in surprise, swallowing as she craned her neck on the couch to be able to see him clearly. Before she knew it, he bent down to get on his knees onto the floor and dragged her legs towards him across the cushioned furniture which her dress were rumpled and bunched up around her waist in a process, and she yelped when he pushed her legs against her chest, forcing her thighs apart.

His rage was becoming uncontrollable, his anger growing with each passing moment. His fingers were curled into the back of her thighs firmly, as he was about to reach his breaking point. He wouldn’t let anyone take what was his, not even her.

[your-nanas-house]

I'm pretty sure you're mine

◇ Pairing: Sub!William Killick X dom fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, disappointment, friends to lovers, choking, slapping, edging, raw sex/creampie, sadness and lust, shitty writing (sorry I'm pretty sick and struggled a bit)

◇ Summary: William meets his childhood friend again, after a promise he did before the war.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Inspired by one of the latest and wonderful works of @pinguwrites

"William—" her voice came out as a whisper as her eyes remained on her loving childhood friend, who was busy apparently flirting with a brunette woman.

He turned around, licking his lips in confusion but kind of joy— a joy that vanished as soon as he saw the hurt face of who used to be his Y/n.

She left him no time to say hello, ask questions, or give an explanation— even though it was ages since they saw each other and she was really eager to meet him again after all they had been through.

It didn't happened though, not like she planned.

Y/n always imagined their reunion to be more romantic, full with joy and cries and passion— not sadness and disappointment.

She rushed out of the pub where they were, pushing the door open before running away the fastest she could, leaving the young man confused and sad at the entrance.

.

A couple of days later, someone knocked at the door of the house she was staying in and thinking that it was probably the owner or someone important, she opening it just to be face to face with William.

Neither of them spoke for a couple of seconds, they just kept looking at each other, taking in all the changes that were visible on their bodies— before she made an attempt to close the door.

William's feet quickly stopped her action, opening the door again and walking in as soon as she rushed away, heading with an angry gait to the living room— so that she could continue to prepare her suitcases.

"Y/n" William's voice broke the silence taking her slightly by surprise, it had become deeper and his accent was still present, if she wasn't that mad she would have probably begged him to speak to her all day long.

Distracted by his voice, she didn't realize that the man had moved and was now standing behind her with a very worried look.

Her body became still as soon as William rested his hand carefully on her shoulder, she turned slowly her head to meet his piercing baby blue eyes— waiting for him to talk, to say anything.

"Why are you here?" William asked, leaking of words. His words kept echoing in Y/n's head as she stared how blankly at his handsome face

"Why am I here?" Repeats, anger slowly building up, her movements become more nervous and fast as she kept packing her things.

"Yes—" he started, taken aback by her sudden motion, her finger pointing at his chest "I'm here because I wanted to see you again, I waited for you to come back to me after war but nothing!" she revealed breathing heavily.

Y/n didn't let William open his mouth again.

Her hand pushed against his chest, making him stumble against the nearest surface

"I came here ready to see you again, to be with you and start something like we promised each other and there you are, flirting with another woman" she murmured, staring at him with a lot of emotions in her eyes.

William's heart skipped a beat as his stomach sinked. She was mad. But, she had every right to be.

She returned to a man who had changed and seemingly moved on from the past. She had a right to be mad.

William swallowed down, his gut instinct to defend himself disappearing as he stared at her, his mouth almost unable to form words.

"You have nothing to say?" She asked incredulously, her eyes narrowing even more

"I..I..." he stammered out, his tongue tied. It feels like he couldn't find the proper words, as if every time he opened his mouth to speak they only stumble out as gibberish.

His heart raced as frustration mounts against himself for what had become of the situation. She was rightfully angry at him, but now he found himself unable to even answer the question posed to him.

"The cat got your tongue, William?" She asked, framing his body with hers, almost giving an energy of superiority and dominance.

He stared with wide eyes, shocked but at the same time intrigued by the sudden position.

He couldn't feel the heat of her body pressed against his, the sensation sending waves of heat through his body. Her smell was different then he remembered, not sweet and innocent like it used to be but— nicer.. more mature.

It was almost as if she was designed to distract him.

Y/n's eyes scanned his body as she bit softly her bottom lip in thought.

His breath caught in his chest, feeling the butterflies rush to his stomach, his body nearly shivering as she moves closer.

His hands suddenly rise, his body shifted so he was better framed by hers.

William stared at her, knowing that they both felt the heat rising.

They both let out a soft sigh before their lips connected in a passionate and fiercely kiss.

He suddenly wrapped his hands around her waist, his fingers interlocking together, pulling her in as he kisses her.

Her arms hugging his neck forcefully, holding him closer to her.

The passion and heat that erupted between them was utterly exhilarating, but at the same time there was a certain intimacy about the kiss— as well as repressed feelings and hidden emotions.

His tongue swirled around hers, and he felt her body pressed up against his during the kiss, the heat and tension nearly unbearable.

Y/n pushed him against the wall, pulling softly at his locks as she broke the kiss

"Tell me you're still mine" she whispered against his lips, her nose brushing his as she waited for a reply, her eyes closed.

A deep moan erupted from William's throat, his body nearly trembling beneath her— his lips parted and the words barely managed to utter themselves from his mouth

"I'm still yours.." he whispered, and kisses her again.

She returned the kiss, leading him to the bedroom of the house while she started to undress him— he was still in a state of shock that this was happening, but the heat that he felt rise through him as she lead him to the bedroom was undeniable.

Her hands moved to undo his buttons, her breath on his neck, hot and desperate, and the heat of her body rising up through his own.

It was almost as if she was designed to steal away his breath, and his body responded in turn without hesitation.

And in a quick motion he was now laying on the bed, Y/n towering over him while she kicked off her boots.

William kept watching her with anticipation as he laid there, his own hands move to undo his pants, pulling them off one as he watches her remove her blouse.

It felt as if time had melted away for William.

Time no longer held any sway over him, it was just the two of them together; her hands on his body, her lips on his, her breath against his skin.

He suddenly leaned forward and kissed her again deeply, pulling her body to rest upon his.

His hand wandered lower, taking a handful of her ass, earning a harsh slap from her

"I don't think you understand who's in control right now, baby boy" Y/n murmured, her nails digging in the flesh of his chin as she held it still, making William whine softly.

The sudden slap earned a jolt of shock from him and the burning remained a reminder.

This had always been the underlying dynamic between the two of them and the sudden harshness from her now was utterly unexpected— it felt like this wasn't the same girl he used to fool around with, her confidence drowing him almost as if she had been the one who had gone to war.

Her nails scraped at his chin harder, and the sudden rush of heat sent shivers all through his body.

William just nodded breathless, his eyes watching her carefully as his body didn't dare to move

"Will you be a good boy, William? My good boy?" She asked almost ordering him to, placing kisses along his jawline.

His heart kept hammering heavily in his chest as his breathing grew heavy at her commands.

She had taken an unexpected role in this reunion, and it was taking him some time to get used to this new dynamic not that he minded.

He slowly nodded, his mouth barely able to utter a single word

"Yes... I'll be a good boy" he finally muttered, rolling his eyes back when she started to nibble on his sweet spot, his breath becoming heavier and heavier as his hands kept tickling.

He needed to grab her, to hold into her but he was too afraid to do so— William didn't want her to stop for no reason.

Y/n's body was still clothed while William was bare under her, needy of her touch and love.

"Tell me you're mine, honey" she whispered, making her hand travel lower in a painful slow pace.

"I'm yours" he muttered quickly out, his heart racing violently as his breath grew more ragged

"I'm yours" he repeated it again breathless, as if to convince himself more than her that this was true.

Her hand grabbed his rock-hard cock which was hidden under the skirt of her dress, she pumped it a couple of time, watching his face writhe in a grimace of pleasure.

"What do you want, baby?" Y/n whispered a couple of minutes later, denying him the release.

The question threw him off completely as he was still under the effects of her sudden dominance.

It took him a few moments to even grasp the question she was asking him, but when he did, the words that fell from his mouth were quick and decisive

"I want..." his voice was nearly a whisper

"I want you to teach me a lesson" his eyes were filled with anticipation as he stared at hers.

"My baby wants a lesson? A lesson of what, huh? Does my baby need to be remined of who he belongs to?" She mocked him, tightening the grip she had on his thrombing cock.

William groaned in response, the pain of her grip nearly unbearable, as was the mocking tone she used.

His eyes narrowed in pain and pleasure as she challenged him, as if daring him to resist

"Yes" he whispered softly "Yes, darling...I need to learn my place".

Another harsh slap could be heard in the room, he blinked a couple of times, looking at her now like a lost puppy

"I'm not your darling, baby. What am I?" She asked, her free hand grabbing his face "You're My Mistress" he whispered out, the words coming out like a sudden admission.

His head bowed down slightly, his gaze falling down as he waited a response or another slap.

"Mistress" Y/n repeated softly, nodding in approval "Call me that, baby" she kissed his bruised lips as a reward

"Is my baby ready to be reminded?" She whispered against his lips.

His lips parted in an involuntary whimper as she moved her hand again

"Yes Mistress... I'm ready" he whispered in a low voice, waiting her next move.

Her lips touched his face again in a kiss, her nails scratching along his lips, reminding him of the power she held in this moment.

"That's a good boy" she praised, listening to William's soft whimper.

Y/n moved down his body, leaving kisses down his pale freckled skin till she reached his leaking cock— her thumb rubbed his angry red tip, collecting his pre-cum as he squirmed softly, his hands grabbing into the bed.

Her bottom lip was caged between her teeth, her eyes fixed on him while she continued with her actions, slapping hard the pale skin of his tigh as soon as he tried to do something

"Ah Ah, baby. Behave or I stop, got it?" Y/n murmured, spitting on his cock to be able to stroke him better, earning other whines and whimpers from the grown man.

The young woman managed to deny him his release for six times before receiving an actual reaction from him.

Tears running down his sharp but handsome face, his cheeks flushed and his lips bruised for all his biting and the kisses they shared before.

And each slap on his thigh was a sharp sting of pain and a rush of heat that made him tremble slightly against her as a sharp moan escaped his mouth each time

"M-More, please! More, mistress! I-I need m-more" his voice grew hoarse as the lesson went on, his voice dripping with desire and need as he begged her.

A small smirk remined on Y/n's face as she decided to finally stop torturing him and get her pussy a bit of satisfaction as well.

She moved her dress slightly up, not showing William anything but her thighs for a couple of seconds before sink into him— her cunt wrapping tightly around his cock.

William's back arched at the sudden sensation, his eyes rolled back as his hand finally grabbed her hips, letting Y/n still be in control as she bounced on his lenght

"Is my baby close?" She moaned out, grabbing his throat while increasing her pace, ready to receive all the load that William shoot inside of her soon after.

"Yess" she hissed, watching William silent moans, his open mouth and the shaking of his body who was struggling to deal with an orgasm like that

"Fill me, baby boy!" She commanded eagerly before lying next to him breathless as well.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989

[wutheringcaterpillar]

William Killick struggles to speak after seeing his woman naked for the first time!

Thank you for sending this in! I hope you enjoy this small drabble!

warnings: none other than an awkward needy William, and some fluff🥰

William stared in desperate awe and shock when he walked into the bedroom, seeing you standing their nude, the bathrooom towel laying on the bench at the end of the bed.

You didn’t seem to hear him come in. He brushed at the back of his neck awkwardly, he didn’t want to startle you but he never knew his wife could look anymore beautiful than she already did so effortlessly. He had never seen a woman nude before, and the sight of you turned away from him, your back running down to where your ass curved over your thighs, water slowly dripping off of your nearly dried skin had him almost gasping for air while he was working up the courage to speak.

Turning around flipping your hair, you were met with the longing, protruding gaze of your husband whom was to be sent away in a few days as he had been posted.

You’d never felt more vulnerable, yet so easily consumed by the sight of him and his eyes inching down your nude body.

“I um- I seem to have forgotten my watch.”

Walking slowly toward him your eyes never left his. He could feel his cock begin to throb in his pants at the sight of your rounded breasts, and the way your nipples were hardened by the cold breeze flowing in through the cracked window.

You took his hands in yours, placing them over your breasts that fit ever so perfectly in his hands, he couldn’t stop himself from massaging them slowly and gracefully. 

“Don’t feel so out of touch love. Do they feel good?” His eyes fluttered shut and he gulped down his nervousness, attempting to hold back from groaning. “Yes they feel quite wonderful.”

Your hand rested beneath his chin, eyeing your husband seductively.

“Look at me William. I mean really look at me.” Your hushed tone that always seemed so gentle he couldn’t resist and he complied with you, revealing his baby blues that looked as if they wanted to devour you.

William was always a very polite and respectful man and you knew he hadn’t intended to walk in on you nude, yet seeing him so dazed with that animalistic stare was beginning to arouse you immensely.

“We don’t have long until we’re a part you know.” He nodded in response, his hands still feeling stiff around your breasts as if he was scared to move them anywhere else.

He couldn’t help but take enjoyment out of the squishy feeling of your boobs, his fingers twiddling with your nipples that he wanted so desperately to suck.

He stepped back, admiring the way your hips curved gently, the way your skin looked so enamoring, and how your pussy glowed in the dim-lit room looking like a well heated spot he wanted to rest his head upon and dive into your succulency, searching every inch of the divine beauty of the woman he so desperately cherished.

“I’m almost to stunned to speak my love. I- I never knew you looked so lovely and ravishing underneath your clothes.” You raised an eyebrow, causing him become bashful and stuttering.

“Not- Not that I didn’t think you weren’t perfect with clothes on I just- I- I apologize I’m really bad at this…” William wanted to go hide in his innocence and shyness yet he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of you.

Your pressed your chest against his, moving one of his hands down until it was resting over your inviting and soaking pussy that felt too good to be true in his hand.

Leaning forward, your lips softly pressed near his earlobe before you began to whisper sweet nothings to the man you loved.

“Take me William, please. I want my husband to make love to me before he’s away serving our country.” When he felt your hands brushing off his jacket, and sliding down cupping his growing bulge that was all he needed to hear before picking you up underneath your thighs and carrying you to the same mattress that you’d fall asleep together in every night.

[aphroditeslover11]

What are they like with DIY?

Lenny Miller - he’s the sort of guy who insists that he knows what he is doing with DIY. He likes to think that time spent in the forces before he joined the CIA must mean that he’s handy, but he is still absolutely hopeless. He gets into an argument with anybody who tries to help or correct him. He definitely has an extensive tool kit, but no idea of how to use any of it. In the end he grumpily gives it up and ends up paying a professional to do it instead.

Emmett - of all of our boys he is definitely the best in the DIY department. He’s just one of those people who is really good with his hands. If you give him half an hour to look over something - from a broken car engine to a fence or a watch - he has a knack for just figuring things out. He loves being so practical with his hands, especially if his partner is hopeless in that department, as it makes him feel needed. There is also something unarguable attractive about a man who is good with an axe.

Jim (TDS) - He isn’t terrible at DIY, he’s far from a professional but he always has a go. He likes to do it when the house is quiet and when he is alone so he can concentrate, he also gets embarrassed when it takes him hours to figure something out. If you ask him to look at something he will do it quietly, usually resorting to a YouTube tutorial because he would rather admit that he needs help and get it right than be stubborn and ruin things further.

Tommy Shelby - he doesn’t have the patience for any proper DIY, he fixes things up temporarily until someone else gets fed up of waiting for him to finish the job and does it themselves, usually John or Charlie. If he was alive in 2024, his arsenal would comprise solely of a hammer, DW40 and some duct tape.

Robert Fischer - this man does not have time in his day for DIY, or so he says. He tried to hang a picture once and drilled into a water pipe, that’s the real reason he never attempts it anymore. He has a maintenance man he can call straight to his apartment anyway, so why not just let him sort things out?

Oppie - he isn’t awful at DIY, he is just always to nervous to try it. Ever since he was terrible in the lab when he was studying experimental physics he has no confidence in himself to do anything practical. If coaxed into trying he is very capable of the basics, but he has the common sense to admit that some more complicated things are beyond him.

William Killick - he’s good at DIY, but he does so in more of a rustic way. He’s good at finding the perfectly shaped piece of wood on a beach to mend a fence, or could make a window sill from scratch. He’s not good with more intricate things though, he just doesn’t have the patience and it ends up driving him mad.

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Book Recommendations Based on Cillian Murphy's Characters! | Pt. 1?

These are all books that I've read and associate with Cillian's characters. Just because I include a book does not mean I completely agree/condone anything in them... they just remind me of the character. Characters included:

Crane

Jim

Matthew Joy

Killick

Raymond

Neil

Lenny Miller

Fischer

Let me know which books you’d recommend and which character’s recommendations you like the best!

[mypoisonedvine]

I’m gonna be honest I don’t even know if this is how you send one of those little request thingy but I couldn’t stop thinking about soft dom!William Killick teasing wife!reader in public/semi-public 🤭 honestly you could write anything and I’d go feral

oh you're so sick for this I love you omfg

warnings: SMUT!! GO AWAY MINORS!!, dom william being sweet but controlling/possessive, semi public stuff of course, a little choking, housewife kink and sliiiight misogyny (definitely period accurate but also in a horny way)

"You'd let me, wouldn't you?" he taunted. "You'd let me take you right here, show them all who you belong to... like a good little wife."

You shivered, nodding as he reached up with one hand to wrap his fingers around your neck-- but the other was still between your legs, under your dress, making you whimper and look anxiously around the corner in case someone walked in. You should've known he had an ulterior motive when he suggested throwing a dinner party... William liked to keep to himself, stay in with you-- he wasn't especially social. But clearly, he had a use for bringing all your friends here... he wanted an audience, it seemed.

"You'd let me bend you over right here?" he pressed again, petting you more roughly through your panties as you arched your back, pressing your shoulders against his chest as he whispered in your ear. "Claim you, breed you--?"

"Yes, yes," you panted, "I would, William, you know I would..."

"But do you want me to?" he smirked, kissing your neck until your knees nearly buckled.

You weren't sure how to answer that. Your heart was racing with nervousness and your gut seemed to sink even just imagining someone catching you two like this. And yet, it made heat pool between your legs-- it made you throb, more desperate for him than ever. You absolutely loved belonging to him, being his 'good little wife' as he called you so often-- and you loved having him for yourself as well, so it made you a little scared to imagine anyone seeing the intimate moments that you shared with him. But knowing that no one would deny it then-- that they would be so crudely convinced you were absolutely William's property? It was certainly a tempting offer.

"I-I don't think anyone would come to our dinner parties anymore," you choked out instead of a true answer, and his laugh made you whimper just from how deep and dark and lovely it sounded; he slipped his fingers inside your panties, finally, both of you groaning as his rough fingertips slid easily through your soaked folds.

"I think some of them would be eager to come back," he whispered, "I think some of those men would kill to see you getting fucked. Don't you see how they look at you?"

You shook your head, reaching down to hold onto William's wrist as rubbed your clit just a bit too harshly.

"They want you, darling," he growled, "but they can't have you. You're mine, my precious wife--"

"Yours," you agreed in a low moan, thighs quivering as he touched you exactly the way he knew would get you to the edge fastest every time-- you loved how he had your body memorized, expertly turning you into his desperate, needy pet whenever he wanted. He could act jealous all he wanted, but you knew he craved the attention you received just as much as he despised it. Some days he wanted to keep you locked up in the house and never let another man look at you, spoiling you with his own affection instead; other days, he wanted to take you out just to show you off, flaunting you as his prize... this was apparently one of those days.

"I can do whatever I please with you," he reminded you as you purred and rocked your hips, moaning in agreement. "You're my wife, this is my home-- if I want to take you here and now, I will. No one can stop me."

You still didn't really think he would do it, though; you gasped when he tugged your panties down suddenly, pulling up the bottom of your dress and pushing you down by your shoulders so you were bent over before him. "William!" you yelped, "what if someone--"

"They won't come looking unless they hear you," he warned, "so just try to keep quiet."

But he'd opened his trousers in a moment and shoved himself into you roughly-- his pace was sudden and ruthless, and you had no time to adjust and nothing to hold onto. You knew he was going to do his best to make you as loud as possible, probably even order you to shout his name... and you, being his good little wife, were going to obey.

[viesanterieures]

𝐓𝐨 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏.

William Killick (The Edge of Love) x fem Reader

next chapter

note: This story is set in May 1936, William is about 27 and it takes place years before the actual movie.

summary: William Killick takes a break from his London life and spends a few weeks at the country estate of the wealthy Hallward family. The family take an instant liking to William and try to get him to marry their beautiful daughter Norma. Also on the estate is the reader, who works as a maid. When William receives anonymous poems, he ends up falling in love with the mysterious writer instead of Norma.

word count: 2000+

warnings: … none!

masterlist

"Excuse me sir, we've reached the end of the line." Yawning, William opened his eyes as he heard a voice behind him and stretched sleepily, curious to see who was speaking to him. A woman in a uniform with a dark skirt and matching hat stood beside him. "Are we there yet... What time is it?" he asked her. "It's just after half past seven, sir," the train attendant replied with a friendly smile. As William straightened up in his seat and then saw that the landscape before him had changed from the brown roofs of London to green hills and beautiful mountain scenery with small lakes. "My God... I must have slept for hours." The train attendant smiled at him kindly and wished him a good journey.

William felt the train slow down and grabbed his suitcase from the luggage rack. Once outside, he set it down on the floor and took a deep breath. The air smelled fresh and the wind blew through his hair. Although he had never been to this place before, he had the strange feeling that he belonged here. He closed his eyes for a moment. The orange light of the setting sun shone through his eyelids. The green hills of the Scottish Highlands stretched out before him, surrounded by a light mist. Green meadows, colourful flowers and streams dominated the landscape. The sky was cloudless and the air smelled of fresh moss. William could hardly look away. It was so different from London. The grass rustled softly under his shoes as he made his way to his accommodation for the next few weeks.

Curious, he looked up at the big building. It was built entirely of stone, with small windows adorned with red, ivy-covered shutters that glowed in the evening sun. William dragged his suitcase up the stairs that led to a wide wooden door. The muffled sound filled the silence as William knocked on the door. It opened with a squeak to reveal an older, very elegantly dressed lady with shoulder-length curly hair.

"Good evening, you must be our new guest, Mr Killick, aren't you?" Her voice sounded friendly and welcoming. "That’s right. And you must be Margaret Hallward, the owner of the estate," William replied. The lady nodded. "I am. Come in, you must have travelled a long way, sir." William followed her into the warm house. Mrs Hallward disappeared for a moment behind a wooden counter and handed William a key. "Room seven is yours. The dining room is in the ground floor and the common room is on the second floor. Breakfast is tomorrow from seven to half past eight. YN, would you be so kind as to accompany our guest to his room? And take some of his luggage."

"Of course, Mrs Hallward," a quiet voice sounded behind them, and William turned around curiously. In front of them stood a young woman in a red apron and white blouse. William smiled kindly at her. "No, wait, I can carry that," he interrupted her when she tried to take the suitcase off. Shrugging her shoulders, she finally gave up and told William to follow her. They walked along a corridor decorated with old paintings and photos of the country estate and stopped in front of a room door with the number 7.

"Thank you so much, Ma'am," he said, putting the room key in the lock. The young woman smiled and wished him a good night before disappearing without another word.

****

William had slept very well that night. It was probably because he was quite tired from the long journey. When he finally entered the dining room for breakfast, it was already quite full. He took an empty seat at a table where an elderly man was still sitting, reading a newspaper.

"Tea, sir?" It was the young woman again who had shown him his room yesterday. "Yes, thank you“, he said. "What was your name again?"

"YN," she said quietly, and poured some tea into a small cup.

"Beautiful name."

William could clearly see her cheeks turning slightly pink at the words. "Thank you, sir." But they were interrupted by Mrs Hallward, who approached the table with a big smile. "Good morning, Mr Killick! Did you sleep well?"

"Very well, Mrs Hallward," he replied. "I don't think I've slept as well as I did this morning for months. So I'm really going to enjoy my holiday."

"I'm glad to hear that." She laughed. "Oh, I'd like to introduce you to someone, wait a moment please " She turned to one of the tables and called out in a loud voice. "Norma! Will you come here, please?"

"Yes, Mother." Another woman joined them at the table, she was about a year or two younger than William. She had white-blonde hair, red lips and was wearing an elegant purple dress with ornate embroidery. She was very pretty, William realised.

"Mr Killick, this is my daughter Norma. She lives in Glasgow at the moment, but is here for a few weeks. She grew up at the country estate. If you like, she can show you around the neighbourhood and the town."

"It would be an honour. How about we meet outside the estate at three this afternoon?," Norma chuckled softly as she twirled a strand of her blonde hair between her fingers. William was very happy about the Hallward's hospitality and gratefully accepted the offer.

"But now we won't bother you any longer, Mr Killick. Enjoy your breakfast," Mrs Hallward said with a smile as she took Norma's arm and led her away from the table. As they walked, he heard them whispering to each other, catching bits of sentences like 'isn't he lovely' or 'he looks like a prince from a fairytale'.

Slowly, William turned in the direction where YN had last been, but she was gone.

***

William spent the morning in the garden of the country estate, sitting on one of the benches beneath a cherry tree. The weather was warm, and the birds chirped softly in the treetops. Eventually, he closed his book and stood up to return to the house. As he passed one of the large flower beds, he paused. He saw a person sitting there, gardening.

"Nice to see you again, Ms YN," he said kindly. She didn't seem to notice his arrival and flinched when she heard his voice behind her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," William apologised immediately. "It’s alright, sir," she said, turning her attention back to the bed.

"Call me William, please."

She immediately looked at him in surprise. She had never expected that. A gust of wind came up and brushed through William's dark hair, and his bright blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

"Shall I help you?" he asked her, pointing to the bucket of weeds. She immediately declined his offer. "No, William, you're here on holiday. Not to work." William shrugged. "Anything where I don't have to be in London is a holiday for me. I really love this city, it's my home. But sometimes I really need to go somewhere else." YN nodded briefly. "I've never been to London or any other big city. I imagine it's stressful."

He laughs and shrugs. "I can't deny that it's stressful sometimes." Slowly he knelt down beside her and began to pluck the weeds from the ground in front of him. "You don't have to do that," she said quickly. "It's okay," William replied quietly, continuing to work.

YN laughed. "This has never happened to me before. A guest helping me with my work. If Mrs Hallward finds out, she'll scold me." William smiled a little. "Tell her I did it voluntarily. "You already have enough work." When they were finished, the young woman smiled briefly, then took off her gloves, stood up and reached for the bucket. "I have to go now."

"Wait, don’t you want to stay here a bit longer?" William asked hastily.

"Sorry, I've still got a lot to do. But thank you for helping me, that was very kind of you." She waved goodbye to William and finally turned round. William looked at her for a moment, a bit disappointed. Then he glanced at his pocket watch and flinched. It was ten minutes past three, Norma was probably already waiting for him.

He quickly grabbed his book that was laying in the grass and hurried to the front gate. Norma was waiting there, her arms crossed over her chest, looking at him with raised eyebrows as he finally greeted her completely out of breath. "Sorry I'm late."

She finally smiled and said in a friendly voice, "It's okay." Her hair was pinned up in an elegant braid, her lipstick was the same colour as the new pastel pink dress she was wearing, and she carried a matching handbag.

"I was in the garden talking to YN. I must have lost track of time."

One of her blonde eyebrows immediately raised again and she looked at him as if he had just said something completely stupid. "You're talking to household staffs? They're working for us, it’s far below our class."

He looked at her, confused. "But why shouldn't I talk to her? She's really nice."

Norma stayed silent, grabbed his arm and pulled him along without a word. She led him through the Scottish Highlands, down a small forest path, until the roofs of houses appeared in the distance. This had to be Tobermory. The air smelled of salty sea and a fresh breeze as they walked along Tobermory's coastal road, lined with colourful houses. High mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks shrouded in a gentle mist. "Wow, it's beautiful!" marveled William.

"I know, right?" Norma replied giggling, taking his hand and pulling him towards a small café.

"My aunt works there," she said. "She makes the best cakes." They entered the café and sat down on a corner bench by a small window. "Norma, how lovely to see you again." A lady with bright red hair came up to them and pulled her niece into her arms, laughing. When she noticed William, she looked him over from head to toe, smiled and turned back to her niece. "And who is that handsome young man next to you? Did you meet him in Glasgow?" Norma shook her head, laughing. "No. He's a guest of Mother's. She asked me to show him around."

"Oh, how lovely. You know, Norma, it's time for you to get married. Can I bring you both some of my Dundee cake?" William frowned slightly when she mentioned marriage. Did the Hallwards already see him as their future son in law?

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the little café, William telling Norma about his home in London, his job, his family, and she seemed to be very interested. But William hadn't forgotten her nasty comment about YN. He was torn by Norma.

After they said goodbye that evening, William went to his room tired. In the corridor he saw Mrs Hallward talking excitedly to YN. "You forgot to fluff up the pillows in Room 9! How many times do I have to tell you?" she snapped at her in a harsh tone.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Hallward, I..." But she didn't let YN finish, because when she noticed William, she put on a big smile again: "Oh, Mr Killick, how nice to see you. Did you have a nice day with Norma?"

"Yes, I did, thank you for asking," he replied. He looked at YN, but she avoided his gaze, holding a white sheet in her arms.

"You know, Norma is still not married and we're looking for a suitable husband for her. Or do you already have a wife?" Mrs Hallward wanted to know. William shook his head slowly.

"She is such a beautiful young woman. But no man has ever met her standards. You're the first one she has shown interest in", the lady explained to him. "Come, YN, you need to get back to work now, the dishes need to be washed."

"Good night, William," YN said to him as he walked past, nodding to him.

"Good night," he replied.

As soon as he entered his room, he took off his jacket and shirt and yawned softly. He intended to read, but he was so tired that he just wanted to lie down in bed. Suddenly he heard something crunching under his feet and looked down in surprise. There was a small piece of white paper under his shoe. Someone must have slipped it through the gap under his door. He bent down and picked it up carefully. It was no bigger than William's hand, made of good quality and written in black ink.

Holding his breath, William began to read:

𝓣𝓸 𝓦𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓪𝓶 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮

ℐ𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑔𝒶𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓃 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓈 𝒹𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒, 𝒶 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓈 𝒷𝓎 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒.

𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒹𝒶𝓇𝓀 𝒽𝒶𝒾𝓇 𝒻𝓇𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒻𝒶𝒸𝑒, 𝒷𝓁𝓊𝑒 𝑒𝓎𝑒𝓈 𝓇𝑒𝒻𝓁𝑒𝒸𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑒.

ℋ𝒾𝓈 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝒹𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽, 𝒽𝑒'𝓈 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓊𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝑒, 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓇𝑒.

Confused, he turned the letter over in his hands. Was it from Norma? But she had been with him all afternoon, hadn't she? Who else was writing him poems?

****************************************************

Thank you so much for reading! If you want a part 2, let me know! 🖤

[viesantewrites]

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

William Killick (The Edge of Love) x Reader

Previous Part

summary: The reader finds a mysterious diary in a library that belonged to William Killick in the 1930s. When she writes something in it, her notes appear in the past (1937) which allows the two to communicate with each other and they eventually fall in love.

note: I was watching "The Lake House" from 2006 with Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves and felt inspired by it. (& Also by Tom Riddle's diary in chamber of the secrets) I know that whole concept isn’t brand new but I enjoyed writing it. So welcome to my new cillian fanfic, hope you like it. I‘m not a native English speaker but I try my best.

William's part is set in 1937 and he lives in London. But he has a different job from the one in the film "The Edge of Love"

Masterlist

………………………………………………………………………….

YN slept poorly through the night as a fierce storm raged outside. Thunder rumbled and flashes of lightning repeatedly illuminated the dark room. YN tossed and turned, every sudden jolt making her flinch. The raindrops on the windows and the howling wind added to her discomfort, making sleep almost impossible.

Eventually, despite the storm, she drifted off and woke up in the morning incredibly exhausted. The sky was clear now, and the sun shone through the open curtains. Tired, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. She was glad it was Sunday and she had the day to herself. She remembered that she had to call Veronica urgently or she would be very angry with her. YN felt guilty that she had brushed off her best friend last evening. But then suddenly all the strange events of the previous day came back to her mind.

She slowly crawled out of bed and walked barefoot to her bedside table, reaching for the black notebook. Everything that had happened last night suddenly felt unreal, as if it had all been a dream. With trembling fingers she leafed through the book. It showed Killick's photo, his notes and diary entries, but when she reached the last page she stopped. Her own note was gone, and also Killick's reply and the brief conversation they had yesterday. Relieved, YN closed the book and sank into the chair beside her. It really had been a strange dream. Frankly, she was glad that incredibly weird and scary things she couldn't explain didn't actually happen. A diary that communicated with her? A young man from the 30s whose soul was trapped in a book? No, that couldn’t be real.

But she was still happy about the notebook because the diary entries were incredibly interesting and gave an insight into what life in London must have been like almost 90 years ago, even without magical powers. It would be perfect for her thesis.

YN yawned and grabbed her phone. She was going to ask Veronica if she wanted to meet her at her favourite café so they could plan the party together and enjoy their day. After all, she didn't have to worry about her thesis anymore. At least not today.

***

Confused, William looked at the blank pages in front of him. This couldn't be true. Where had the stranger's mysterious messages gone? Hadn't she claimed to be from the future last night?

He rubbed his temples as he sat down to breakfast at his small kitchen table and stirred his tea. His brain seemed to be working non-stop, giving him no rest. He flipped through the pages again, but where yesterday there had been his own writing and that of the stranger, today there was nothing but blank white paper. Did the notebook erase the messages at the start of a new day? What strange magic was this?

William's stomach growled quietly. Sighing, he got up and found a single piece of dry, hard bread in the basket on the kitchen counter. That should be enough for this morning, he didn't have any more, and bread was expensive.

He sat down at the table, took a bite of the bread, opened the diary again, grabbed his pen and began to write.

***

The day flew by for YN. She didn’t even think a second about the notebook, just enjoyed the day with Veronica. The weather was pleasantly warm for September, and it felt as if summer was making one last appearance before disappearing for months. Veronica had been busy planning her birthday party, from the guest list to the seating arrangements to the drinks, as she wanted the party to be perfect. YN liked seeing her so happy and invested in something, especially as Veronica was one of those people who could hardly get excited about anything.

In a good mood, YN returned to her small flat in the evening and lay down on the couch. Now it was time to relax and watch TV, but not for too long, she had to get up early tomorrow and didn't want to be too tired and unfocused at university. Maybe her best friend was right and she really was a nerd.

As she thought about university, Killick's notebook suddenly came back to her mind. She had decided this morning not to touch it, but for some reason YN just couldn't let it go. She felt guilty. It wasn't hers, after all, and perhaps it would be better if she returned it to the library tomorrow, after making notes and copies for her thesis.

Lost in thought, she finally got up, went into the bedroom, took it from the bedside table where she had left it this morning, leafed through it and suddenly flinched. This couldn't be happening, she must be dreaming again. What on earth was happening? Trembling, she dropped the book and pinched her arm as hard as she could. The pain shot through her body and she bit her lip in desperation. She was wide awake, she wasn't dreaming, and she could clearly see William's new note in his neat handwriting on the white paper. Right where there had been nothing but an empty page this morning. He had answered her again. With a pounding heart and bated breath, she began to read.

𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝒴𝒩,

ℐ'𝓂 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓈𝒾𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝓌𝑜 𝑜𝒻 𝓊𝓈, 𝒶𝓅𝓅𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓁𝓎 𝑜𝓃 𝒹𝒾𝒻𝒻𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈, 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓂𝓊𝓃𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒷𝓊𝓉 ℐ 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒸𝓁𝓊𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓃𝒹𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝓌𝑒 𝒽𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓈 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝓂𝒶𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑒. 𝒫𝑒𝓇𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓈 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒢𝑜𝒹'𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓅𝒶𝓉𝒽𝓈 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓈𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓇𝓎, 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝓃𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓁 𝒸𝒾𝓇𝒸𝓊𝓂𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓈 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓈𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓁𝓎 𝒷𝑒 𝒾𝓂𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓈𝒾𝒷𝓁𝑒. 𝒮𝑜 ℐ 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒹𝑒𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒾𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝒻𝓊𝓇𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓅𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓎 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝒹𝓈 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜.

ℐ 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 ℐ 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒶 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒. 𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝓊𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒? 𝒲𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒷𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒻𝓁𝓎, 𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝓁𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝒻𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑜𝑜𝓀𝓈 ℐ’𝓋𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒸𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓂? 𝒫𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎, ℐ 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝓃’𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝒶 𝒻𝓁𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 ℐ'𝓂 𝒶 𝒷𝒾𝓉 𝒶𝒻𝓇𝒶𝒾𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈.

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝓂𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑒𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝑒𝓍𝓉 𝒻𝑒𝓌 𝓎𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓈. 𝒲𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝑜𝓁𝒾𝓉𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓁 𝓈𝒾𝓉𝓊𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓈𝑒? ℐ'𝓂 𝒶𝒻𝓇𝒶𝒾𝒹 ℐ 𝒶𝓁𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝓈𝓌𝑒𝓇, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 ℐ'𝓂 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒 ℐ 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒾𝓉.

ℐ 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝑔𝑜 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓀𝓈, 𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝒾𝓇𝒹𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 ℐ 𝑒𝓃𝒿𝑜𝓎 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔. ℐ 𝑔𝓇𝑒𝓌 𝓊𝓅 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝓈𝓂𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓋𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒶𝑔𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝒲𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝑜𝓋𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 ℒ𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝑜 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓀 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 ℐ 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝟷𝟽. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝒶𝓎 𝒶𝓁𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓋𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝓂𝓎 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓋𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓇𝓎 𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈. ℐ 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒. 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝑒𝒶𝒸𝑒, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓆𝓊𝒾𝑒𝓉, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝒶𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑒, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑒𝓃𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝓌𝑜𝑜𝒹𝓈. 𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝑜 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝑜 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝓊𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑒? 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓀, 𝑜𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝒶𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈 𝒹𝑜 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂?

ℐ 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒶𝑔𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝓊𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 ℐ 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒷𝑒 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝓇𝑒𝒸𝑒𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒶𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝓈𝓌𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓎𝑜𝓊.

𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉,

𝒲𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓂

Tears began to well up in YN's eyes. Even though she still couldn't believe what was happening, this message had touched her deeply. He seemed so accessible, as if he had opened his heart a little to her. To her, a complete stranger from another time.

Almost automatically, YN's hands reached for the pen, and it began to scratch across the old, slightly yellowed paper. Small tears dripped onto the paper as she wrote, lost in her thoughts, only the sounds of London reaching her ears now and then to bring her back to the present. Her heart pounding, she lowered the pen and read her message once more before closing the book and falling asleep.

𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑊𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑚,

𝑇𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝘩𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑡, 𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑘𝑒 𝑢𝑝 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝘩𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝐼 𝑐𝘩𝑒𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑟, 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑒. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝐼 𝑠𝑎𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙. 𝑀𝑦 𝑠𝑜𝑐𝑖𝑒𝑡𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑐, 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑙, 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠. 𝐼 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑦 𝑤𝘩𝑦 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡 𝑤𝘩𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝘩𝑦 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝟸𝟸𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑆𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟. 𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑓 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑢𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑡.

𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝐼 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒. 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑒𝑒, 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑙𝑦 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜 𝑓𝑙𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑦𝑒𝑡, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼'𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒. 𝑃𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑚𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑦. 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑦, 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑎 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔.

𝐼𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝐼'𝑚 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝘩𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑦 𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑠𝑐𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑠 𝑤𝘩𝑜'𝑠 𝑓𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝘩𝑜𝑤 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑡𝘩𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔𝘩 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑐𝑒, 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔. 𝐼'𝑚 𝑎 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝘩𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑤𝘩𝑜 𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑎𝑛 𝑏𝑖𝑜𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑝𝘩𝑦 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝐺𝑒𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑒 𝑁𝑜𝑟𝑤𝑜𝑜𝑑. 𝐴 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑙𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑟𝑦 𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒. 𝑊𝘩𝑖𝑐𝘩 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑒𝑥𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑤𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒. 𝐼'𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝐼 𝑠𝘩𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑊𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑚. 𝐼 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤.

𝑀𝑦 𝘩𝑜𝑏𝑏𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑎𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠. 𝐼 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑, 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑔𝑜. 𝐼 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑛. 𝐼 𝑢𝑠𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝘩𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑓 𝐼 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓.

𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑠𝘩 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐼'𝑚 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝘩𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑤𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑎𝑓𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒.

𝑅𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝐼 𝘩𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝐵𝑖𝑔 𝐵𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔𝘩 𝑚𝑦 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑤, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼'𝑚 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝘩𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑖𝑛 𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝐿𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑛. 𝐼𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑧𝑦? 𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝟾𝟶 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡, 𝑤𝑒 𝘩𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑒𝑥𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔.

𝐵𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑠,

𝑌𝑁

***

The library was empty and quiet as YN slowly climbed the long staircase the next day, clutching William's diary to her chest. She was unsure if what she was about to do was the right thing. Her mind kept telling her that she had stolen the diary and should give it back, but her heart wanted to keep it so that she could continue to communicate with William. He had left her another little message this morning. He thanked her for her reply, told her about his day yesterday, his work as a carpenter in London, and how he had found a stray kitten in the street and was now taking care of it.

YN loved reading his messages. He wrote so vividly, as if you were really there and experiencing the events for yourself. He also seemed like a really good person, even in such difficult times.

YN sighed one last time as she looked down at the notebook in her hand, then approached the reception desk where the elderly librarian from last week turned to her with a smile.

"Hello, madam. There you are again. Looking for another book for your thesis?"

YN took a deep breath and shook her head. She could hardly bring herself to tell the lady what she wanted. She didn't want to return the book, she wanted to keep reading William's beautiful messages. But her mind forced her to.

"Are you okay?" the librarian asked, looking worried.

Finally, YN gathered her courage and handed her the old notebook.

"I wanted to return this. I found it in the old George Nordwood book. Somehow it got into my bag and I took it home. I'm sorry, really."

The older lady looked at the book in silence and accepted it.

YN felt a wave of sadness wash over her. She had decided to return it and would never read William's notes again. "It belonged to a man named William Killick. I don't know who he is or what he has to do with George Nordwood, but I suppose we'll never find out," she said.

The librarian remained silent, opened the book, ran her finger over William's photograph on the first page, then tilted her head slightly. "He's my grandfather. He told me you were coming. Since I was a little girl. I have no idea how he knew about you but he was right."

The words sent a shiver down YN's spine. How did he know that?

……………………………………………………………………………

thank you for reading! ❤️

(yes i know it’s damien and not william but i liked the picture :D)

tag list:

@freedomring1

you liked part 1, so i hope it’s okay that I‘m adding you to my taglist:

@tenderly-hopeful-collection

@jz12luvscl16 @jz12

[pinguwrites]

Kinktober 2023 — Masterlist

A/N — With October coming up, it's time for filth, so here's a masterlist of Cillian Murphy goodness. The list will be updated as the days of the month pass. I hope you guys enjoy!

Read the warnings before continuing. I do not condone, defend, support, romanticize, or encourage the illegal actions of any of the characters throughout the story, these stories are purely written for entertainment purposes. 18+ only.

WEEK ONE

Day 1. William Killick + dub-con

Day 2. Cillian Murphy + spanking, authority kink

Day 3. Raymond Leon + car sex

Day 4. Neil Lewis + grinding, semi-public

Day 5. Thomas Shelby + overstimulation, bondage

Day 6. Jonathan Crane + impact play

Day 7. Robert Oppenheimer + praise kink, dd/lg

WEEK TWO

Day 8. Thomas Shelby + omegaverse, omega!tommy

Day 9. Robert Fischer + facefucking, office sex

Day 10. William Killick + uniform kink, dirty talk

Day 11. Tom Buckley + body worship, overstimulation

Day 12. Neil Lewis + cockwarming

Day 13. Cillian Murphy + somnophilia, dd/lg

Day 14. Jackson Rippner + CNC, roleplay

WEEK THREE

Day 15. Jonathan Crane + sex pollen

Day 16. William Killick + face riding

Day 17. Jonathan Breech + making a video

Day 18. Raymond Leon + forced proximity, outercourse

Day 19. Thomas Shelby + fingering, hold the moan

Day 20. Darren/Pig + vanilla, riding

Day 21. Robert Fischer + mirror sex, toys

WEEK FOUR

Day 22. Jackson Rippner + choking, anal sex

Day 23. Tom Buckley + vanilla, creampie

Day 24. Jonathan Crane + humiliation, pegging

Day 25. Robert Fischer + wet dream, sleepy sex

Day 26. Neil Lewis + shower sex

Day 27. Raymond Leon + anal sex, brat taming

Day 28. Jonathan Breech + fluffy, semi-public

WEEK FIVE

Day 29. Cillian Murphy + overstimulation, f!receiving oral sex

Day 30. Darren/Pig + mutual masturbation

Day 31. Jackson Rippner + ghostface!reader