forgottenpeakywriter

[forgottenpeakywriter]

Our Little Secret (Part 36)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap,

A few weeks later....

For the next few weeks, Cillian stayed at your house most nights, even with his son Max and, soon enough, you found a routine that seemed to work for you both. Cillian had been asking you to move in with him but, after all that had happened in the past, you were not quite ready for that yet.

Your decision to want your own space was somewhat upsetting for Cillian who saw it as another sign that you didn't trust him fully.

You had explained to him that you loved him and that you simply needed your own space to figure things out.

He had reluctantly agreed, respecting your wishes even though he knew that living apart would not be easy for either of you.

The fact that Cillian was not living with you full-time, made him want to make the most out of every free moment that he had with you and it made him crave your presence in a way that he hadn't before.

He became even more intentional about wanting to spend every available second with you, making it a priority to be present and engaged in your lives together, whether it was cooking dinner for the both of you, taking turns rocking Mara to sleep, or simply cuddling on the couch watching a movie together.

Of course, on occasion, you were intimate too but this time, you took things slower, exploring each other's bodies in ways that were both familiar and new. There was no longer a power dynamic between you in bed and having sex with each other was almost a rare treat these days seeing that Mara was a terrible sleeper.

She seemed to sense when you and Cillian wanted to be intimate and would wake up just then, refusing to go back to sleep. 

For you, this did not matter so much as sex was not always on your radar but for Cillian the lack of intimacy seemed to be much more difficult to accept. 

Unbeknownst to you, this had a lot to do with the fact that he was much older than you and, in the back of his mind, he was constantly worried that, one day, you would want to be with someone your own age.  He feared that you would grow tired of him, as he had grown tired of his first wife, and that he would lose you just as she had lost him.

Of course, none of this was ever spoken aloud between the two of you. Cillian had never been one to vocalize his fears, and you had never been one to question his love for you. Instead, you continued on in your routine, laughing and loving one another as if everything in your relationship was perfect.

But it wasn't.

Far from it, in fact. Beneath the surface of laughter and love, there were simmering tensions and unspoken fears that threatened to boil over at any moment especially when the tabloids had yet another field day, discussing your somewhat inappropriate relationship with one another.

The press loved to speculate about the nature of your relationship and whether or not it was appropriate considering Cillian's recent separation from his wife and the fact that you were his brother's stepdaughter and, whilst you laughed it off these days, Cillian couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.

At times, you couldn't help but feel that Cillian's career was at stake, and that his reputation was taking a hit because of it. And yet, Cillian did not seem to want to talk about it. He wanted to bury his head in the sand and pretend that everything was perfect, that the two of you were blissfully happy.

But you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he clenched his jaw when he read a particularly vicious article. You knew that he was hurting, but you didn't know how to help him and, it wasn't until he came home from his sister's birthday, apologizing to you for something you never thought he would do, that you had your first fight since Mara was born.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and you were both in the living room, surrounded by scattered toys and baby gear. Cillian had been quiet all day, his fidgety behavior fueling your growing unease.

"What's wrong?" you finally asked, breaking the tense silence that had fallen over the two of you.

Cillian hesitated for a moment before answering. "I messed up. I really fucking have Y/N," he told you , his voice low and filled with regret.

"What are you talking about?" you asked, your heart rate increasing slightly.

Cillian took a deep breath before continuing. "At Siobhan's party last night, I ran into Amanda," he told you and, even before he continued , you could feel your heart clenching in your chest.

Amanda was Cillian's ex-girlfriend and, even though they had only dated for a short time, you had never fully trusted her. There had always been something about her that made you uneasy, something that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"Cillian , what did you do?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I did, I -, " Cillian stammered, his voice heavy with guilt and regret. "I don't know what came over me. I had too much to drink and she was there and-"

"Stop," you interrupted him, your voice sharp. "Just stop. I don't want to hear it."

Cillian fell silent, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Y/N. I am sorry, I really am. It was a stupid mistake," he told you while vaguely recalling last night's events. 

***Backflash***

He had been at Siobhan' 40th birthday party, attending without you because Mara had a cold and you did not want to leave her with your mother who had offered to babysit her for you so that you could go.

Thus, Cillian went on his own after you had told him that he should go. It was his  sister's birthday after all and it was important that he showed up. 

He did not know many of his Siobhan's friends and with his brother being in therapy still, he was the only family member that was at the party that night.

The party itself had been organized by two of Siobhan's collogues, one of which was Amanda whom Cillian used to date before you gave birth to Mara. Being polite, Amanda had invited you both, and although she very much disliked you, she simply extended her invitation for Siobhan's sake. 

"I see you came alone, Cillian. Why is that?" she asked intrigued when she saw Cillian standing there, on his own, nursing his drink and, whilst their breakup had been far from amicable, Amanda had always tried to stay in contact with Cillian.

"Mara is sick, so she sends her apologies," Cillian explained dryly,  not wanting to indulge Amanda in any kind of conversation.

"And that's why I chose not to have children," Amanda chuckled before asking Cillian how he was. "How are things with you and your baby mama anyway these days? I mean, the papers are really having a good time writing about the two of you," she  went on, her voice laced with false concern.

Cillian tightened his grip on his drink, trying to keep his anger at bay. "We're doing well," he told her, not wanting to give Amanda the satisfaction of knowing that her words had stung.

But Amanda was relentless, and she continued to press him for information about his relationship with you, probing for any sign of weakness or instability.

Cillian eventually excused himself from the conversation, finding solace in the bottom of his drink.

An hour later, he was rather tipsy and Amanda tried again, this time with an apology.

"Hey, I am sorry about before. I guess I am still holding a grudge over the fact that you broke up with me so abruptly back then,"  Amanda said, her voice softening as she put her hand on Cillian's shoulder.

Cillian looked at her, surprised at her sudden change in tone. "I am sorry too," he replied, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him. "I mean. for breaking up with you the way I did. I was a real dick, wasn't I?" Cillian admitted, taking a deep breath and looking at Amanda with apologetic eyes.

"It's okay. I know why you did it. Things were too complicated at the time,"  Amanda replied, her hand still on Cillian's shoulder.

Cillian nodded, feeling the weight of his mistake settle over him once again. "Yes, things were complicated," he agreed, taking another sip of his drink.

"But they're not complicated now, right?" Amanda asked, moving closer to Cillian. "I mean, you and Y/N are happy together, aren't you?"

Cillian hesitated, feeling a sense of unease creeping up his spine. "We are," he confirmed, his voice barely above a whisper. "But that doesn't make things less complicated, Am. I am over twenty fucking years older than her,"  Cillian said, looking at Amanda with uncertainty in his eyes.

Amanda laughed, her hand still resting on Cillian's shoulder. "Yes, you are and that always amazed me to be honest," she said, her gaze fixed on Cillian's face. "I mean, how did a man like you, a successful actor, end up in this kind of situation?"  Amanda asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "She is a sweet girl, but you are who you are, nominated for a fucking Oscar even. You could have any woman you wanted. Why settle for someone so young, naive and inexperienced?" She added, trying to hide the hint of condescendence in her voice.

Cillian took a deep breath, feeling a wave of protectiveness wash over him. "I love her. That's all there is to it," he told her firmly, unable to keep the edge out of his voice.

"Do you really? Or are you just telling yourself that you do because she had your child?" Amanda pressed on, her gaze never wavering from Cillian's face.

Cillian's jaw clenched involuntarily, but he didn't respond. He didn't need to. The answer was already clear in his eyes, and Amanda knew it. She sighed and took a step back, her hand falling from his shoulder.

"Fine. I get it. You love her," she said, her tone almost regretful. "But let me ask you something, Cillian. Do you think you can make this work in the long run? With the age difference and all?" Amanda asked, a trace of concern in her voice.

Cillian sighed, swirling his drink in his hand. "I don't know," he admitted while Amanda reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Am, what -," he started to say, but Amanda interrupted him.

"Ssh, just come with me. I want to show you something," Amanda whispered, her breath warm against Cillian's cheek as she led him away from the crowd and towards one of the lavatories at the very back of the venue. 

Cillian hesitated for a moment, but curiosity got the better of him in his very drunken state.

"What are we doing here?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as she pulled him inside the small room and, before he could protest, Amanda had closed the door behind them, locking it with a soft click.

"Amanda, what are you-?" he started to say, but his words were cut off as she pressed her lips to his, her fingers tangling in his hair as she deepened the kiss. Cillian's mind went blank for a moment, his body responding to hers even as his mind screamed at him to stop.

"I am just showing you what a real woman can give you," Amanda murmured against his lips, her fingers immediately reaching for his belt buckle. "But I am sure you remember, don't you?" Amanda whispered seductively, her lips brushing against Cillian's ear as she slowly unzipped his trousers.

Cillian's mind was in a fog of confusion and guilt. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, but he couldn't seem to find the strength to push Amanda away. He felt her hand wrap around his growing arousal, and he closed his eyes, letting out a low groan as she started to stroke him gently.

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#cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader

[forgottenpeakywriter]

The Law Student (Rewritten)

Part Nine: Blackout

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (20) & Reader (30)

Note: This plays in 1996, just before Cillian drops out of law school.

Friday came around quickly, and you couldn't help but feel tense throughout the day. You tried to shake off your nerves, telling yourself that this was just one date, nothing more, but you couldn't ignore the flutter in your chest.

After your last class of the day, you went home and took extra care preparing yourself for the evening and even though this was no more than dinner and a movie at your own house, you wanted to make an effort.

You chose a simple black cotton dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, and your hair rested loosely on your shoulders.

Your makeup was subtle yet elegant, drawing attention to your eyes and your lips shone with a hint of red gloss.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, your thoughts turned to Cillian and you wondered if he was as nervous as you were.

Your mind began to wander as you thought about the potential outcome of this date. Would it just be a simple dinner and movie, or would it lead to something more? After all, you had slept with each other before, crossing the professional line, which was what, in the end, had led to this mess and confusion now. 

The sex was surprisingly good, even though he was young and probably lacked experience.  He was attentive and eager to please, and there was something incredibly attractive about his youthful enthusiasm.

After that night, you tried your best to avoid him, both at work and outside of it. You knew that what had happened between you two was a mistake, but it was hard to forget that one explosive encounter. Now, as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn't help but feel a stirring of desire deep in your core.

You shook your head, trying to ward off the thoughts of Cillian that threatened to consume you.  It was just one date, you told yourself. One date to clear the air, to establish some boundaries. That's all this was and there was no way that you could possibly cross that boundary again. 

At around 6 o'clock, your doorbell rang, breaking you out of your reverie. You took a deep breath and made your way to the door. Cillian stood there, wearing a fitted navy blue shirt that emphasized his toned physique, with his hands thrust into the pockets of his jeans. His eyes sparkled with excitement and anticipation as you opened the door.

"Wow, you look incredible Miss Y/LN," he breathed, his deep blue eyes sweeping over you in appreciation.

Despite yourself, you blushed at the sincerity in his voice. "Thank you, Cillian," you murmured, stepping aside to let him in.

He picked up two bags of groceries which he had momentarily placed on to the floor and, as he passed you, you caught a whiff of his cologne -- a musky, woodsy scent that sent a shiver down your spine. You closed the door behind him, and when you turned around, he was standing in the middle of your kitchen, placing the bags on the counter. He looked around curiously, taking in the familiar surroundings of your home.

"Nice place," he said and the softness in his voice caught you off guard, made your pulse quicken.

"You have been here before," you chuckled , trying to keep things light-hearted and casual.

"Well, that time, I didn't really notice because I was too distracted by you," he replied with a smirk, his deep blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

You tried not to get drawn in by his charisma, but it was hard to resist. He was charming and unapologetically confident - two qualities that you found incredibly attractive.

"What's for dinner?" you asked, eager to change the subject and diffuse the tension that was building between you two.

"Uhm, spaghetti I think,"  he replied, his eyes lingering on your face for a moment before he turned his attention back to the groceries. 

"You think?" you chuckled , raising an eyebrow at him. "Well, I hope you know what you're doing. I'm quite hungry," you eased. 

Cillian looked up at you, his deep blue eyes meeting your gaze. "Don't worry, Miss Y/LN. I've got this covered," he said, a hint of a challenge in his voice that made your heart race.

"You really need to call me Y/N while we are here, on our own,"  you reminded him, your voice a little softer than usual.

"Sure thing, Y/N," he said, his eyes gleaming at the sound of your name.

You watched as he removed the ingredients from the bag, setting out the pasta, tomatoes, onions, garlic and spices on the countertop. His movements were intentional and fluid, and you couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation as you imagined him touching you the same way.

Cillian glanced over at you and caught you staring. "You know, I actually never cooked for anyone before, I hope I don't mess it up." Cillian's voice broke through your thoughts, making you snap back to reality.

"I am here to help, you know,"  you said, as you made your way over to the kitchen island, taking a seat on one of the barstools with a glass of wine before pouring one for Cillian as well.  He smiled appreciatively as he took the glass from you, setting it down on the counter next to him.

"Now, where are the knives and chopping boards ?" Cillian asked, searching through the cabinets.

"They're over there, by the stove," you said, pointing to a cabinet near the sink.

He opened it and retrieved the necessary items, setting them down on the counter next to the ingredients. You watched as he began chopping the tomatoes and onions with some struggle, but determination. It was oddly endearing to see him put so much focus and effort into something so simple, but it only added to his attraction. 

"Here, let me show you an easier way to chop these onions," you said, sliding off the barstool and making your way over to the counter. You stood beside him, your arms brushing against his as you demonstrated the proper technique. It was impossible not to notice the current between you, even as you worked side by side. 

"You smell really nice," he commented, his eyes flicking up briefly to meet yours before returning to the task at hand.

"Uhm, thanks," you whispered while moving aside again, allowing him some space.  Your heart raced, but you couldn't tell if it was from the thrill of being so close to him or from the anxiety of what might come. You poured another glass of wine as he continued to cook and chop, lost in thought, until he tried to put on the stove.

"How does this work? It's not turning on," Cillian said, frowning at the stove.

"Let me help you. This old stove can be a little fickle at times," you offered, walking over to the stove and bending down to examine it. As you leaned closer, your chest brushed against Cillian's arm, sending a jolt of electricity through you both. You glanced up at him, and he was looking down at you with an intense expression. His gaze lingered on your lips for a moment, and your heart skipped a beat. It took all your strength to pull away and show him how to turn on the stove.

"There you go," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, causing Cillian to smile.

"Thanks ," he muttered, his eyes locked on yours for a moment too long.

As you both stood there, the tension between you grew heavier, like an invisible thread trying to pull you together. The air felt charged and thick, and it only became more apparent when you caught a glimpse of his hand reaching towards your face , tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sent a shiver down your spine and brought goosebumps to your skin. It had been so long since you've allowed someone this close.

"You know, Y/N, I really like your hair down. It suits you," Cillian murmured, his deep blue eyes never leaving yours. You couldn't help but blush at the sincerity in his voice and the way he looked at you made your heart race.

You stepped back, trying to create some distance between you two before your resolve weakened. "Let me get the pasta cooking while you finish chopping the rest of the vegetables," you said, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy.

As you busied yourself with the pasta, the silence in the kitchen became palpable. You could feel Cillian's gaze on you, but you were too afraid to meet his eyes.

You didn't want to risk getting lost in their depths again, allowing yourself to feel the intense attraction that had led you to this moment. You focused on cooking the pasta, letting the rhythmic movement of stirring the pot center you as you pushed away the rising desire.

Finally, Cillian broke the silence. "So, what movie do you want to watch later? I mean, what sort of stuff do you like?"  Cillian asked as he placed the chopped vegetables into the sizzling skillet of garlic and olive oil. The sound of the sizzling and popping of the food filled the already charged silence.

"I'm not really fussy when it comes to movies," you replied almost distractedly as you kept your focus on stirring the pasta, trying to maintain some sort of composure. "As long as it's a good story, I'll watch anything."

Cillian nodded in agreement, "I did bring a few from with me from home. You can pick one, if you like," Cillian suggested as he mixed the chopped vegetables around in the pan.

"You came prepared, I see," you replied with a small smile playing on your lips as, suddenly and somewhat unexpectedly, the power went out.

The kitchen lights flickered wildly before dousing the room in complete and utter darkness, leaving you both momentarily stunned.

"Fuck that was unexpected," Cillian muttered under his breath, finding his voice first.

You attempted to laugh it off nervously, aware of the sudden change in atmosphere and how intensely close Cillian was standing behind you.

"Let me get a torch, hang on,"  you said, fumbling around in a drawer for a flashlight. As you turned around, your knee accidentally brushed against Cillian's in the darkness causing tingling sensations to ripple through your body.

"Careful," Cillian murmured softly, your ears detecting the hint of mirth and intrigue simmering in his tone. You found the flashlight, switching it on as your eyes slowly began adjusting to the sudden bright light that carved through the darkness. It was like an ethereal spotlight illuminating only what was directly before you both.

Using the flashlight, you looked out of the window and noticed that all of the houses surrounding your building were in the dark.

"I think there might be a complete power outage," you said, directing the beam of light towards Cillian who had been quietly observing you.

"Well, I guess we'll have to skip the movie tonight," Cillian replied. "But at least dinner is ready, I suppose," he said, seeing that you had almost finished cooking. 

You nodded nervously, not entirely hating the idea of spending more time with Cillian without the distraction of a movie. 

"True that. I will find some candles, if you would like to dish out the food?" you suggested, hoping that Cillian wouldn't read too much into the situation.

"Sure," Cillian confirmed while you handed him to plates before disappearing into the living room to look for some candles.

You found a box of long white candles on a shelf in the living room, along with some matches. You grabbed them and returned to the kitchen where Cillian was waiting.

The sight of Cillian in your kitchen, the soft glow from the flashlight illuminating his face, made your heart beat faster. He looked so at home in your space, like he belonged there.

It was a strange and unfamiliar feeling, having someone else in your house, especially someone as young and handsome as Cillian. You tried to shake off the thought, reminding yourself that this was only temporary, that after this night things would go back to normal.

You lid the candles and placed them around the kitchen, creating a warm and intimate atmosphere. Cillian had finished plating the food, and you both sat down to eat at the kitchen table.

As you twirled your spaghetti around your fork, you couldn't help but steal glances at Cillian. He seemed so sure of himself, so confident. And yet, there was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, something that made him all the more attractive.

"I am somewhat glad that the power went out, to be honest," Cillian admitted, breaking the silence between you both. "It's kind of romantic, don't you think?"  Cillian said with a smile, his deep blue eyes meeting yours in the soft glow of the candles.

You raised an eyebrow at him, trying to keep your composure even though you couldn't deny the fluttering feeling in your chest. "You think this is romantic?" you eventually asked, attempting to downplay the situation.

"Yeah, kind of...I think," he stammered, his voice low and earnest. "I mean, it's just us, in your house, with candles and food. It feels inttimate somehow,"  Cillian explained, his words causing a blush to rise to your cheeks.

You nodded in agreement, surprised by the sudden shift in the atmosphere between you two. "I guess you're right," you said, feeling the tension between you grow stronger with every passing moment.

For a while, the only sound in the room was the clinking of silverware against plates and the soft murmur of contentment as you both enjoyed the meal that Cillian had made. But as time passed, the silence grew heavier, like a thick blanket settling over the room.

You could feel Cillian's gaze on you, and you couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. Was he feeling the same tension that you were? Was he experiencing the same longing, the same desire?

Finally, you looked up at him, locking eyes in the flickering candlelight. You could see the heat building in his deep blue eyes, and it made your stomach clench with anticipation.

"Do you like boardgames?" Cillian asked suddenly, breaking the thick silence that had enveloped the room.

You raised an eyebrow at him, surprised at the sudden change of topic. "Yes, I do. Why do you ask?"

"If you have any games, we could play one after dinner if you like ," Cillian replied casually, as if he hadn't just ignited a spark of excitement in your chest. "My family used to play games a lot together when I was growing up, and I always found it was fun during blackouts." 

You considered his suggestion for a moment before nodding in agreement. "Sure, that sounds like a great idea actually." You couldn't remember the last time you had played a board game as your ex husband hated them with a passion, always preferring to bury himself in his work.

After dinner, you scanned the living room for any games you might have forgotten about. "Ah, here we go." You picked up an old Scrabble set from a dusty shelf. "Do you want to play this?" you asked, holding up the game.

Cillian nodded eagerly, taking the game from your hands. "Scrabble is a classic," he said, flashing you a toothy grin that sent butterflies swarming in your stomach.

"But I have to admit, I do have a bit of an unfair advantage."

"Unfair advantage?" you asked with a raised eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

He smirked mischievously. "I am the unbeaten scrabble champion in my family, you know."

You couldn't help but laugh, his energy and enthusiasm infectious. The tension between you two had dissipated slightly, replaced by an ease and comfort that was surprising yet welcome.

"Well then, bring it on then!" you  challenged Cillian with a playful smile, feeling the tension ease between you two. You grabbed some paper and a pen to keep score as he opened the game board and began to sort the tiles on the coffee table in front of you.

You both sat down on a cushion, with a glass of wine, in front of the coffee table. The power outage had put a different spin on things, and instead of getting lost in your own worries, you found yourself enjoying Cillian's company. He had a brilliant mind and an easygoing manner that made it impossible not to like him.

You watched in amusement as he craftily laid out his first word on the board, earning himself a good amount of points.

You followed suit, creating your own word next to his and enjoying the back-and-forth challenge of trying to outmaneuver one another. The game was intensifying with every move, and before you knew it, an hour had passed since you started playing, during which you did a lot of talking as well. 

As Cillian reached for another tile, he paused for a moment and looked up at you. "You know, Y/N," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I really appreciate this."

"Appreciate what?" you asked, taken aback by the sudden earnestness in his tone.

"This. Being here with you, it's just really nice," Cillian replied, his deep blue eyes meeting yours in the soft glow of the candles.

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, and for a moment, the barrier you had put up cracking just a bit.

"Thank you, Cillian," you said softly, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "I'm glad you're here," you told him  , holding his gaze for a few more moments before looking away.

You both continued to play the game quietly now, unlike before where you talked a lot about common interests. But now, you were trying to ignore the heat simmering between you. The flickering candles cast deep shadows on your faces, highlighting your flushed cheeks and the longing in your eyes. You were acutely aware of how close Cillian was sitting next to you, and of how the air between you both crackled with tension.

Finally, after what felt like hours of willful ignorance, Cillian set down his tiles and one of his hands reached out to you, brushing your thigh. 

"I think you won. It's getting late," you said quietly then as those blue eyes of his were burning into you.

"I know. But if this is really the only date I get, I don't want this night to end," Cillian replied, his voice ragged with desire. He took a deep, steadying breath as he leaned closer to you, his hand tightening on your thigh.

You let out a shaky sigh as his fingers traced slow, teasing circles on your skin. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs and your heart pounded in your chest.

With trembling hands, you reached up to touch his face.  The stubble on his jaw scratched at your palm, sending shivers down your spine. He leaned into your touch, his eyes never leaving yours. You could see the raw desire in them, and it only served to fuel your own need.

Without a word, Cillian closed the distance between you and claimed your mouth with his. His lips were soft against yours, but the urgency of the kiss was anything but gentle. He nipped at your bottom lip, demanding entrance and, after not too long, you obliged.

You moaned as his tongue entered your mouth, tasting of the wine you shared earlier in the evening. You matched his intensity as you lost yourself in the moment, the two of you searching for some friction to alleviate the ache that had been building within you since first laying eyes on him.

As you began to writhe on the floor in front of him, Cillian pulled back from your lips and looked down at your flushed face, panting and ready for whatever he was going to do next.

"We should not be doing this again ," you whispered between ragged breaths, your mind a fuzzy mess of conflicting emotions and pure desire. Part of you knew that what was happening between you both was wrong, but there was another part of you, deep down inside, that craved for the pleasure only Cillian could give you.

"I know," he replied huskily as he began to tug at the buttons on your black cotton dress, exposing your lacy white bra and the rosy tips of your breasts.

You gasped as his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of your cleavage, sending shivers down your spine.

"I shouldn't want you as much as I do. I shouldn't be doing this," you murmured between shallow breaths, even as your hands snaked around his neck and pulled him closer.

"But you do, and I want you too. And right now, that's all that matters," Cillian whispered back, his voice laced with determination and desire.

He tugged at your dress and, of course, you got the message and quickly pulled over your head , leaving you in only your white lacy bra and matching underwear.

Cillian let out a low growl as he took in the sight of your bare flesh, his eyes roving over every inch of you like a starving man granted access to a lavish feast.

"Fuck, Y/N. You're so beautiful," he murmured, and you could already see his erection straining against his jeans. 

"So are you," you told him as you reached for the buttons of his shirt. "You're so fucking handsome, Cillian."

Cillian's lips curved upwards in a pleased smile as you finished unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his toned chest. Without hesitating, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his firm pecs. His breath caught as your tongue darted out to taste him, leaving a trail of moisture in its wake. He tasted like sweat and musk, it was intoxicating.

Cillian responded by running his fingers through your hair, tugging gently at the roots.

You couldn't help but moan at the sensation, your body arching into his touch. He took advantage of your reaction by shifting you closer to him, your thighs straddling his.

The friction from the denim of his jeans and the lace of your thong sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. You could feel yourself getting wetter with every passing second, all reason fleeing your mind as your desire for Cillian became paramount.

"Come on, I will show you my bedroom,"  you panted, breaking the kiss for a moment as you stood up from the floor.

Cillian wasted no time responding to your invitation, quickly standing up and following you out of the living room and towards your bedroom with an eager look in his eyes.

As soon as he entered the room, he pulled you close to him again, his hands roaming over your bare skin as he hungrily devoured your lips once more. You eagerly pushed him down onto the bed, straddling him once more as you ground your hips against his denim clad erection.

"Tell me how much you want me!" you told Cillian as you unclasped your bra, freeing your breasts. "Say it!" you demanded, your voice breathy and dripping with need. Your hips continued to grind against him, the friction sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

"Fuck, Y/N," Cillian growled, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. "I want you. I want you so fucking bad."

His words sent a jolt of desire straight to your core, and you couldn't help but moan at the intensity of it all.

"And what do you want to do to me?" you then asked before reaching for one of his hands and bringing it up to your breast.

He squeezed it gently, his thumb brushing over your nipple, eliciting a shudder of pleasure from you.

"Fuck, Y/N, I want to do so many filthy things to you," Cillian replied, his voice husky and strained with desire.

"Be specific!"  you demanded, biting your bottom lip as you scooted back a little to unbutton and unzip his jeans. "What filthy things?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you pulled his jeans down, his boxers following suit. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the sight of his cock, hard and ready for you.

"I want to taste you, Y/N," Cillian growled, his hand reaching up to tangle in your hair. "I want to taste every inch of you."

You moaned at the thought, your body already trembling with need as you moved off him for a second to allow him to get rid of his jeans and briefs completely, looking slightly awkward while he did so.

"So you want to taste my pussy? Is that what you want?" you smirked as you elegantly wiggled yourself out of your lacy thong.

"Yes , that's exactly what I want," Cillian confirmed, his stare locked onto the moistness glistening between your legs.

You shivered at the intensity of his desire and at the anticipation building inside you as you crawled back onto the bed, positioning yourself over his face.

"Then go ahead," you said as you lowered yourself onto his mouth, granting him access to your warm and wet pussy.

Cillian let out a pleased growl and immediately started exploring you with his tongue.

You moaned as he licked and sucked at your clit, his tongue probing at your entrance before diving back to your swollen nub. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he feasted on you.

Your moans grew louder and more frequent as he devoured you, the pleasure building inside of you like a pressure cooker threatening to explode. You could feel the tension coiling within you, your muscles tensing up in anticipation of the release that was fast approaching.

Being so young, he was surprisingly good with his tongue, his skill only matched by the masterful way he kneaded your ass, priming you for the next step.

"God damn it, don't stop!" you panted, your fingers tangling in his hair to hold him in place as his tongue bore down on that one spot, leaving you writhing and panting. "Don't fucking stop!"

But Cillian had no intention of stopping. If anything, this was just a precursor of what was to come.

You ground your hips down, desperately chasing the elusive climax that teased you from beyond the horizon. Cillian responded in kind by slipping two fingers inside of you with ease, and hitting that spot that sent pleasure cascading through your entire body.

"Oh shit! Oh shit!" you cried out as your orgasm hit. You could feel yourself gripping onto Cillian like he was the only lifeboat available to you in a stormy sea of pleasure. Your thighs quivered around his head, your toes curled, and your back arced.

The pleasure was so intense, it was almost painful. Your orgasm seemed to last forever, ripping through you with wave after wave of ecstasy and Cillian kept on going.

"Enough! Fuck , oh fuck, Cillian, enough!" you eventually managed to gasp in between breaths as your orgasm finally subsided. Your entire body felt like a wrung out towel but Cillian wasn't done yet.

"Uh-uh , there's more where that came from." Cillian smirked and flipped you onto your back before his head disappeared in between your legs again.

"No, no! There is no more! You need to stop! I can't take it anymore," you pleaded, but Cillian ignored your cries. He continued to thrust his fingers inside of you, hitting that sweet spot that made you cry out in ecstasy before from an even better angle now. 

"Hmm, you have the most fucking perfect pussy I have ever seen," he murmured against you, causing your hips to buck upwards in response.

You couldn't help but moan again, your hips gyrating with pleasure as he went back to feasting on you.

This time, his fingers curled upwards , massaging that spot inside of you that made stars explode behind your eyes.

"Shit, Cillian, fuck!" you cried out as another orgasm threatened to shatter your very being.

You writhed and bucked, your hips seemingly moving of their own accord as he refused to let up.

And then, just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, he pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his tongue, before sliding two fingers back in and teasing your clit with his thumb.

It was too much and yet not enough.

You could feel your body spiraling towards the edge, but just as you were about to fall over, Cillian would change tactics, drawing out your pleasure until you were begging for release.

"Please, Cillian," you moaned, your voice hoarse from all the moaning and crying out and he clearly loved it when you begged. "I can't take it anymore. It's too much."

But Cillian didn't stop. Instead, he increased his pace, the tip of his tongue flicking your clit rapidly as his fingers continued to thrust in and out of you with just the right amount of force.

You cried out, your entire body trembling as another orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. It was so intense that you saw stars behind your closed eyelids, your vision going white for several long moments as a warm stream of your arousal flooded over Cillian's chin.

Cillian didn't seem to mind the taste, lapping up every last drop of your release with obvious relish before finally sitting back on his heels, seemingly content to let you rest for a moment. He looked debauched and dirty and fucking perfect, his lips stained from your arousal and an almost predatory glint in his eyes.

"So how did I do?" Cillian asked, looking up at you with a smug grin.

You were still trying to catch your breath, your chest heaving as you tried to summon enough energy to speak. "You...you did good," you finally managed to gasp out.

Cillian chuckled and leaned forward to press a soft, chaste kiss to your lips. "Just good?" he teased, pulling back just enough so he could look you in the eyes.

"Fucking amazingly good," you corrected, finally finding your voice. "Almost too good, actually!" 

"Jesus, and I thought you were stickler for the use of correct grammar," Cillian chuckled, crawling back up your supine body. His lips peppered kisses down your neck and collarbone before he settled to kneel between your legs once more.

You chuckled, still slightly out of breath from the two intense orgasms that had just rocked your world.  "You're right, I am a stickler for grammar and proper sentence structure, but my brain seems to have turned to mush from what you just did to me." 

Cillian's face split into a wide grin as he looked down at you with pure adoration. "You know you look so fucking sexy when you loose control," he murmured, and even through your post-orgasmic haze, you couldn't help but blush at his words. "And I can't believe you squirt. Fuck, I only ever seen this in movies and magazines, you know. It's so fucking hot," Cillian continued, his voice still holding wonder in it, causing you to laugh.

"Trust me, that makes two of us. I didn't know I would do that either. But I am glad I could make your pornographic fantasies become a reality. You are welcome," you laughed, still catching your breath as Cillian hovered over your body.

You had never experienced anything like what he had just done to you, and part of you still couldn't believe it had actually happened. But as Cillian looked down at you with a hunger in his eyes, you knew he was far from finished.

His hair was disheveled from where you had tugged on it, his lips reddened from your kisses and your taste still lingered on his tongue.

You reached up to him, tracing the curve of his jaw with your fingers, marveling at the roughness of stubble against the pads of your fingers.

Cillian captured your hand in his, pressing a lingering kiss to the palm before he used it to pull you up to a seated position.

Your breasts brushed against his bare chest, a shiver running down your spine as you felt the firmness of his muscles beneath your fingertips.

"It's my turn now to taste you," you breathed in Cillian's ear, causing goosebumps to break out across his skin.

With one swift movement, you pushed him onto his back and your head disappeared between his legs, your tongue sweeping across the already damp tip of his cock.

Cillian sucked in a sharp breath as he felt the heat of your mouth and the wetness of your tongue against him. His hands found their way into your hair, fisting the strands as you licked and sucked your way down his length.

You took your time, exploring every inch of him with your tongue, tasting the musky saltiness of his skin and the smoothness of his shaft. You could feel Cillian's hips bucking beneath you, his movements urgent and needy.

"You have such a perfect cock ," you told him between sucks, enjoying the shudder that ran through him at your words. "It tastes so good."

You hollowed your cheeks and took him deeper, your nose brushing against his coarse pubic hair as you finally took him all the way in.

Cillian let out a guttural moan, his fingers tightening in your hair as you deep throated him while, all at the same time, playing with his balls.  The sensation was overwhelming, a heady mix of pleasure and pain that sent shivers down his spine. He had never experienced anything like this before, and he knew that he would never forget the feel of your mouth on him, the sound of your moans of pleasure as you sucked him deeper into your throat.

You pulled back, gasping for air and leaving a string of saliva connecting Cillian's cock to your lips. You looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, your lips shiny with spit and pre-cum.

Cillian groaned at the sight, his entire body trembling as he tried to hold back. His hips bucked upwards, chasing your mouth as you pulled back, teasing him.

"You like that, don't you?" You purred, your fingers drifting down to cup his balls as you pressed open-mouthed kisses against his muscular thighs. "You like having my mouth on your cock."

Cillian couldn't speak, but his response was obvious as he let out a strangled moan in answer.

His hips continued to push upwards, seeking out your mouth as you trailed wet kisses back up his shaft.

"Y/N, I'm going to cum," Cillian warned, his voice strained and ragged. "You need to stop, fuck."

You gave him a mischievous grin before taking him back in your mouth, swallowing everything he had to offer and only pulling away when he was spent and trembling beneath you.

"I want you to cum in my mouth, Cillian ," you said, your voice low and sultry as you looked up at him from beneath your lashes.

Cillian groaned at the sight of you, your swollen lips and the glistening sheen of saliva and pre-cum coating your chin and lips. You reached up to stroke him gently before leaning in to take him back in your mouth.

You felt Cillian's body tense beneath your touch, his fingers tightening in your hair as he pulled you closer to him, burying himself in your throat once again.

You moaned around him, your fingers wrapping tighter around his shaft as you stroked him in time with your mouth.

Cillian's hips began to buck wildly, his back arching off the bed as he lost himself in the pleasure coursing through him.

You could feel him twitching in your mouth, the salty taste of his pre-cum mixing with the musky essence of his arousal on your tongue.

"Fuck, Y/N! I'm gonna cum!" Cillian shouted, his voice ragged and raw with pleasure.

You felt his cock swell and pulse in your mouth, the first spurt of his warm, salty release coating your tongue as you tried to collect his load in your mouth.

Cillian let out a guttural groan as he emptied himself, his fingers still fisted in your hair, holding you in place as your cheeks filled out with his seed until, finally, he was done. His hips stuttered against your face, his entire body shuddering with pleasure as he rode out the last waves of his release.

You opened your mouth to show him the pearly liquid coating your tongue, before swallowing it down with a filthy little grin.

Cillian groaned as he looked down at you, his cock still twitching in the aftermath of his orgasm. A small amount of cum had spilled out of the corner  of your mouth and was slowly dribbling down your chin.

You smiled at him, a wicked glint in your eyes as you collected the droplets with your index finger before, suggestively,  licking it off your finger.

Cillian's chin dropped open at the sight, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of your licking your lips, enjoying the taste of him. 

"Fuck that's the hottest thing I've ever seen," he breathed, still in a daze from the orgasm you had just given him.

You grinned at him, your face still flushed with pleasure and desire. "So you liked it?"

"Liked it? I fucking loved it," Cillian replied, his voice hoarse from the intensity of his orgasm.

"Good, but I still need your cock  inside me though," you told him, your voice raspy with desire as you watched him hardening again almost instantly at your words.

"Wow, that was easy," you said with a hint of surprise in your voice, stroking his hardness.

Cillian chuckled, propping himself up on his elbows. "With you it is,"  he said, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. 

You smiled at him, feeling a warmth in your chest that you hadn't felt in a long time. It was more than just lust or desire. It was a sense of closeness, of intimacy, that went beyond the physical act of sex.

"I want you inside me," you whispered, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

"Then take what you need. I am all yours," Cillian said, his voice thick with desire as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer until your chests were pressed together.

You gasped as you felt his hardness pressing against the apex of your thighs. You wrapped your legs around his waist, grinding against him as you leaned in to kiss him deeply. 

Maneuvering  your body, you positioned yourself over his hardness and sunk down onto him with a deep groan.

Cillian's head fell back as you took him in, his fingers gripping your hips tightly. "Fuck, Y/N," he groaned as you began to move, shifting your hips back and forth, riding him with a slow and sensual pace.

You leaned forward, bracing your hands on his chest as you continued to rock your hips, allowing his length to fill you to accommodate him completely.

You moaned, your hips moving in a steady rhythm as every nerve in your body seemed to come alive with pleasure.

Cillian's breath hitched as you began to move, his hands moving up from your hips to cup your breasts. He circled your nipples with his thumbs, eliciting gasps of pleasure from you as he pinched and twisted them lightly.

"Oh fuck, Cillian," you breathed, throwing your head back as you ground your hips down against him. "You feel so fucking good inside me," you moaned, the words tumbling from your lips like a prayer.

Cillian groaned in response, his hands tightening on your hips as he thrust upwards to meet you. "You feel incredible, Y/N," he grunted, each word punctuated by a thrust of his hips. "So fucking tight and wet."

His words ignited a fire deep within you, sending shivers down your spine as you began to move faster, your body moving in a primal rhythm that seemed to have a life of its own.

You could feel the tension building within you once more, your muscles tensing up as you chased after another orgasm.

Cillian's hips met yours with every thrust, his fingers digging into your flesh as he too chased after his own release. His breath was hot against your neck, his lips leaving wet trails of kisses as he murmured filthy words of encouragement and desire. Cillian growled, his voice barely above a whisper as he nipped at your earlobe.

"I can't hold back much longer, Y/N," he moaned and you shivered at the sound of his voice, the roughness of it causing your core to clench around him. 

"Then don't," you whispered, your voice hoarse from the moans and gasps that slipped past your lips with each thrust. "Cum for me, Cillian. Cum inside me," you told him, knowing that the feeling of it would also send you over the edge.

Cillian didn't need any more encouragement. He pushed himself up and back, rolling you over so that he was now on top. His thrusts became faster, harder, building up a friction that had both of you panting and moaning in pleasure.

You could feel yourself getting close, and so could Cillian. He reached between the two of you, rubbing your clit with his thumb as he continued to thrust into you.

"Fuck, yes," you moaned, raising your hips to meet his thrusts.

"Don't stop, Cillian. Don't you dare fucking stop."

Cillian groaned at your words, his hips snapping forward with even more force as he felt you clenching around him. He could feel himself getting close, the familiar tightness in his balls signaling that his release was imminent.

With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside of you, letting out a guttural moan as he came hard, filling you up with his seed.

The feeling of him pulsing inside you, the slick wetness between your thighs, and the aftershocks of your own orgasm all contributed to the heady mix of pleasure and satisfaction that washed over as you came as well. Hard and fast. 

"Oh god yes," you moaned as you writhed beneath him, your hips still moving, milking every last drop out of him as he slowly came down from his high. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, sweat dripping down your forehead as you looked up at Cillian with a sated grin.

"Holy shit," Cillian whispered, still trying to catch his own breath.

His forehead was pressed against yours, sweat dripping down between the two of you as you lay there in blissful silence.

Your hands drifted up his back, feeling the muscles there ripple beneath your fingertips as he shifted and rolled off of you, collapsing onto the mattress beside you with a contented sigh.

The scent of sex and sweat filled the room, mingling with the heady aroma of arousal that still lingered in the air.

The sound of ragged breathing and the occasional soft moan filled the silence, punctuated by the quiet rustle of fabric as both of them tried to catch their breath.

Cillian turned his head to smile at you, his deep blue eyes glazed with satisfaction and warmth. His hair was a tousled mess from where your fingers had run through it, and there was a faint pink tinge to his cheeks that only served to highlight his attractiveness even more.

You smiled back at him, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you as you snuggled closer, resting your head on his shoulder.

Your limbs were still trembling slightly from the force of your orgasm, but you felt completely at ease in this moment.

Cillian wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "You are on the pill, right?" he then asked out of the blue, causing you to chuckle. 

"Yes, I am on the pill," you replied, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "And if I wasn't, I wouldn't have let you cum inside me."

Cillian nodded, seeming relieved at your answer. "Good," he said, before pulling you back down into a kiss.

"You didn't ask me that the last time we had sex," you murmured against his lips, a faint blush staining your cheeks.

"I should have," Cillian replied, his voice soft. "I just assumed, you know," he trailed off, a pained look crossing his face.

You reached up to cup his cheek, brushing your thumb over the faint stubble on his jawline. "I know," you murmured. "It's okay. I would have told you if I wasn't."

Cillian nodded, looking grateful for your reassurance. He wrapped his arms around you tighter, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your hair.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" you then asked , your voice soft and hesitant.

Cillian's blue eyes met yours, searching your face for any hint of uncertainty or regret. But all he saw was the same heat and desire that he felt mirrored in his own gaze. "Yes," he said, his voice a mere whisper. "I would like that," he told you and, with that, the two of you lay there in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking until, eventually, you both drifted off to sleep. 

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fanfic

[forgottenpeakywriter]

An Illicit Affair

Part 35: Lucy's Betrayal

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

For the past three weeks, Cillian tried hard to give you the space you said you needed, but being away from you now was difficult to say the least.

Danielle had been charged with aggravated assault and, due to her medical history, she was now being confined in a mental institution now where she would receive the help she so desperately needed. 

It had been a long and emotional struggle for her to come to terms with the breakdown of her marriage, which was exactly what, during the trial, she blamed her rage on. And, while she was deeply pained by the prospect of Cillian being with someone else these days, there had been an unspoken tension between them for years, causing the judge to acknowledge that there may be much more to her outbursts.

Now, at least, she was being assessed and treated and even though the hearings took place in a closed courtroom, some of the information from the trial ended up being leaked to the press. 

It was a big mess from which you were being shielded by Cillian's team. In articles and magazines covering the incident, you were referred to as the anonymous woman who no one knew about, and this was all thanks to the diligent management of the matter by Cillian's publicist.  But for Cillian, going through all this in the midst of preparing for award season was an added challenge.

He missed you terribly and, of course, there was also his strained relationship with his son Max that needed mending, causing him to feel more exhausted than ever.

***

Max refused to talk to Cillian now, still deeply hurt by his father's betrayal and the riff it caused in the family.

With Cillian being away filming, Max had always been closer to his mother, and her recent breakdown had only intensified his desire to protect her. Cillian understood all of Max's accusations and justifications for his behavior, but it still stung to face the harsh reality. He felt immense shame for disappointing Max in this way.

Max was hurt and confused and, in his teenage mind, Cillian's actions seemed like an act of betrayal - not just to him but to the whole family. To Max, it felt as though his father had chosen a stranger over them, and this realization pained him deeply.

Having been in love with you too, Max also couldn't grasp the idea that you had taken a liking in his very own father, a man who was twice your age.  In his naive mind, you were the love of his life, and he could not fathom how quickly you had moved on, especially to someone who he never thought would ever become his competition. His very own father.

But, while Cillian was aware of Max's resentment towards him and the reasons behind it, he could not help but feel weak in your presence. You were the escape he had been longing for, the forbidden fruit that he so desperately wanted. 

He had fallen in love with you almost instantly, and the attraction between you had been intense from the very beginning.

From the way you looked at him to the little gestures you made, Cillian had felt seen and understood in a way that he hadn't in years.

The chemistry between you was palpable, and it had been difficult to deny your desire for each other - even though it was far from appropriate.

Now, he was missing you and you had shut him out from your life again. He had tried to keep his distance from you, giving you the space that you had asked for, but it had taken a heavy toll on Cillian. He was constantly worried about you, checking up on you remotely and staying updated on what was happening through friends.

For the first ten days after you had left, he had texted and called you several times, without being too pushy, and when you didn't respond, he called your best friend Lucy for an update.  She had revealed that you were taking some time for yourself, to regroup and refocus, and he respected that.

But his interactions with Lucy were short-lived when she did something you would never have expected her to do, namely betraying your trust.  

***Backflash***

It was a Thursday evening, exactly ten days after you had left. Cillian was enjoying a glass of wine while sitting on the couch, browsing through a magazine, when his phone beeped. It was a text from Lucy, asking him if she could come over to have a chat about you and the fact that you were struggling with your treatment. 

"Sure," Cillian texted back quickly, worrying about what she had to say, seeing that you had already shut him out completely, not responding to his calls or texts.  He knew that Lucy was your best friend, and he hoped she could shed some light on how you were doing.

Thirty minutes later, Lucy showed up at Cillian's apartment and smiled politely as Cillian opened the door for her, but there was a coldness in her eyes that he couldn't quite place.

"Come in, Lu,"  he said, holding the door open for her before leading her into the living room.

"I'm sorry to barge in on you like this, Cillian, but I really wanted to have a word with you," she said nervously, sitting down on the couch and folding her hands in her lap.

"It's no problem at all. I was just having a glass of wine. Would you like some?" he asked, pouring himself another glass before offering to pour one for Lucy as well.

She hesitated momentarily, glancing at the bottle of red wine he held, before nodding her agreement.

"Sure, why not," she replied, trying to mask her unease behind a fake smile. "I could definitely use a drink after the day I have had."

Cillian handed her a glass before sitting down next to her on the couch. She took a tentative sip, savoring the rich flavor of the wine as it coated her tongue. As they sat together in silence, Lucy couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt and betrayal wash over her.

"What's going on?" Cillian then asked, no longer being able to hold it in. "I have tried to make contact with Y/N, but she hasn't picked up my calls or responded to my texts and I am really fucking worried. I gathered that she might need some more time, but I don't know," Cillian finally admitted, his voice wavering.

"Look, I'll be honest with you, Cillian. I shouldn't even be here, because I promised her that I would keep this to myself, but she has been going through a lot lately. The last time we spoke, she was seeing a therapist and learning to cope with the aftermath of her assault," Lucy revealed slowly. "She thinks that you should move on with someone else because of what she is dealing with right now. She lost all of her self-confidence and since you been nominated for all these awards, her self-esteem  is at an all-time low," Lucy confessed painfully while averting her gaze, feeling bad for having to share this sensitive information with someone who she knew was still in love with you. "She just thinks that you could do so much better than her and she is worried that, after you had only been seeing each other for such a short time, you wouldn't find her attractive anymore,"  Lucy finally spoke in your voice, making Cillian's heart ache.

He knew that you weren't feeling good about yourself after the incident, but it had never occurred to him that you might feel this way. Throughout it all, he remained steadfast in his love for you, refusing to let go of the hope that you would find your way back to him.

"Is she seeing a therapist?" Cillian asked, trying to remain calm and composed despite the turmoil he was experiencing in his heart.

"Yes," she said. "I mean no. She keeps cancelling her appointments,"  Lucy replied, biting her lip nervously. "I promised I wouldn't tell you, but she really needs help, Cillian. I-I can't bear to see her like this anymore," she admitted, tears welling up in her eyes as the guilt began to overwhelm her.

"Fuck, I should have made her stay here with me," Cillian murmured, dragging a hand through his short hair. 

"She wouldn't have stayed, you know that. She is stubborn as fuck," Lucy explained, trying to control her emotions. "She feels like she's broken beyond repair and she doesn't want to burden you or anyone else with her problems."

Cillian sighed deeply, understanding where you were coming from. Still, the thought of you struggling alone made his heart ache.

"If she won't let me help her Lucy, I don't know what to do. I have been trying to get in contact with her for the past ten days and I don't have her parents' details. Fuck, I should have asked for them before she left," Cillian muttered, frustration evident on his face.

"I have her parents' number . I can message it to you if you want, but you have to promise me that you won't tell her I told you about her therapy or what we just talked about," Lucy said, pulling out her phone and quickly typing out the contact details before passing it over to Cillian.

Cillian nodded solemnly, taking the phone and typing the numbers into his own contacts.

"Thank you, Lu. I appreciate your help in this," he said sincerely, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"It's nothing. I just want her to be okay ," Lucy replied, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Cillian could see the pain and concern etched on her face and he knew that she loved you just as much as he did. He couldn't help but feel grateful for her friendship and support, despite the betrayal of sharing this sensitive information with him.

He knew that you were strong and resilient, but he couldn't shake the worry that gnawed at him from the inside.

He wanted to be there for you, to hold your hand and whisper words of encouragement into your ear, to remind you of the incredible woman you were but, the first few times he called your house, your father told him to get lost. 

It wasn't until your mother picked up the phone a week later that you found out about Cillian having called, checking in on you and, much to Cillian's surprise, just 24 hours after his latest phone call to your house, your mother asked him to come and see you as she too was worried about you.  "She's not getting any better," your mother said, her voice trembling with exhaustion and concern. "Please come and see her, Cillian. I think that you may be able to help her, or at least encourage her to continue with her therapy," your mother implored, trying to remain composed as she spoke on the phone.

Cillian nodded his agreement, eager to do anything he could to help you. "Of course, I'll drive up in the morning. What's your address?" he replied dutifully, taking down the address that your mother provided.

"She doesn't know that I am calling you and she won't know that you are coming to see her because I think that, if she knew, she would try to push you away. She would come up with something to get out of seeing you," your mother continued, her voice laden with sadness and worry.

Cillian's heart ached at the thought of you hurting so deeply and feeling so alone. He knew that he needed to see you, to hold you and remind you of the love that surrounded you.

"I appreciate the heads up. I will see you tomorrow," Cillian replied, determined to be there for you in any way he could.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

#cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #cillian fanfic #cillianmurphy #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy fanfic

[forgottenpeakywriter]

#cillian murphy #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #slytherin #walllpaper

[forgottenpeakywriter]

Let me say this again. I want people to talk to that's settled and more to my age. I'm 31. Also be understanding about a highly sensitive person. Not have a lot of baggage sort of speak. I mean drama and not a lot going on.

Hi there. I'm looking for people to be long term friends with preferably in the United States. I say that cuz I'm from the South East United States. Plus, people more suited to my age. I'm 31. Also, want someone that's settled down too. I love peaky blinders a lot. Favorite character from that show is Thomas Shelby. Really love Cillian Murphy and Oppie a lot. Other thing I rp too, but mainly as Oppie and Thomas Shelby. My style of rp is freestyle to literate. Topics of Rps I enjoy are hurt/comfort, smut, bdsm, and happiness. In bdsm rp I prefer to be dominant. Topics I don't prefer is sadness and death.

I prefer someone that can talk about more than just one topic cuz that turns me away. I like to talk about anything. Also, I have anxiety and a highly sensitive person. I want someone that's aware and understanding of that.

I write once in a blue moon, but only on ao3 though. I enjoy making edits, headers, and collages for Cilly, Thomas Shelby, and Oppie.

I hope that someone out there takes the time to read this post because I'd like to have more friends than what I have now. I don't want a friend that's going to be false, catfish, or a predator. I want a friend that's good and sincere.

#cillian murphy #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #oppie #robert oppenheimer #j robert oppenheimer #make friends #long term friends #just chatting

[forgottenpeakywriter]

An Illicit Affair

Part 34: Unable to cope

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

Three weeks later

It was Monday, again, and you woke up to the soft light of dawn. The room was quiet and, just like every other morning, your breakfast was already waiting for you on the bedside table.

Your mother was downstairs, cleaning the kitchen and, every now and then, you could hear the faint sound of her humming to herself as she worked.

You sighed, stretching your muscles as you took in your surroundings before attempting to sit up in order to make your way to the bathroom.

Your wheelchair was waiting for you, right next to the bed. You had started to use it two weeks ago, immediately after you had been discharged from Liverpool Hospital and, whilst you were given crutches as well, using them was still too painful for you. 

"Fuck," you muttered as you carefully maneuvered your body into the chair, trying to avoid hitting any of your stitches, but your emotions got the better of you once again.

You couldn't help but feel frustrated at the limitations your injury had placed on you, at the grueling physical therapy that left you in a constant state of pain and exhaustion. At the fact that you missed out on your career, your dreams and aspirations to become a doctor for now, your life being put on hold.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as you tried to compose yourself, to push through the despair that threatened to overwhelm you. But it was no use. The tears came anyway, rolling down your cheeks in quiet, steady streams.

Your body shook with the force of your sobs, but you didn't try to stifle the sound. You let yourself cry, letting out all of the emotions that had been building up inside of you for the past few weeks. It was a release, a moment of raw vulnerability that left you feeling both exhausted and strangely relieved.

"Sweetheart, hang on," your mother said, hearing the sound of your cries from downstairs and rushing up to see you. "What's going on?"

You shook your head, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand. "Nothing. I just...I am fucking sick of this. I don't want to do this anymore," you admitted, your voice trembling as you tried to keep yourself together.

Your mother nodded, a sad expression crossing her features as she took a seat next to you on the bed. "I know it's hard, sweetheart, but you need to be patient," she told you before helping you to the bathroom.

"You have therapy at noon, and you'll feel much better after a shower. Now come on," she reassured you, her voice soothing as she helped you on to the toilet which, in itself, was embarrassing enough for you to dread visiting the bathroom.

You sighed, nodding as you looked down at your hands, still trembling slightly from the force of your emotions.

"I hate this," you muttered quietly, not expecting your mother to hear you, but she did.

"I know you do, sweetheart, but it's going to get better," she reassured you, her voice steady and confident as, after you were done, she helped you into the shower where a small white chair awaited you.

"I am not going to therapy today," you told her, not wanting to endure it anymore.

She raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything further, knowing that you needed time to process everything that had happened over the past few weeks.

"Let me help you wash up first and get you dressed, then we can talk about it," she said, carefully soaping your body while trying to avoid touching any of your wounds.

"There is no need to talk about it mum. I am not going. I mean, what even is the point, huh?" you growled while looking at the large scar covering your abdomen  . "Why did this have to happen to me? I had it all and now, I'm left with this."

Your mother sighed heavily, her gaze briefly flicking down to your belly before meeting your eyes once more. "Y/N, you can still have a good life. There are so many people out there who love and care about you. And yes, it might seem like everything is falling apart right now, but trust me, you will get through this."

You shook your head, your emotions threatening to boil over as you fought the urge to break down in tears again.

You knew that your mother was right, that there were still people who loved and cared about you, but it didn't make the pain of losing your dreams any less acute.

"I know that there are people out there who still care about me, mum. I do. But I also can't deny the fact that I feel like a completely different person now," you whispered softly, the weight of your words heavy on your chest as you tried to put into words the turmoil of emotions that had been plaguing you since the accident.

"You know Cillian called for you yesterday, to see if you were alright," she told you, her voice gentle as she looked at you with a mixture of sadness and hope in her eyes.

You nodded, swallowing hard as you tried to keep yourself from breaking down in tears once more. 

"Are you going to call him back?"  your mother asked carefully as she wrapped a fluffy white towel around your shoulders.

You sighed, leaning against her for support as you tried to gather your thoughts. The mention of Cillian's name brought back a flood of emotions that you had been trying to suppress for the past few weeks. The memories of his touch, his voice, and the way he looked at you - all threatening to overwhelm you with a longing that you weren't sure you were ready to face.

"I don't know," you finally replied, your voice barely more than a whisper as you looked away, unable to meet your mother's gaze and the truth was that, ever since you left the hospital in London, you were ignoring his calls and messages. "He should move on and find someone who isn't broken," you added, the weight of your words heavy in the air between you as you thought about the many interviews and media engagements on TV lately where he did well to pretend that everything was fine. He was promoting his new movie Oppenheimer again just before the upcoming Award Season and Oscars in three months, for which you now knew he received a nomination. 

"Y/N, that is not true. You are not broken," your mother said, and whilst she did not approve of your relationship with Cillian, she couldn't help but feel a pang of worry for you as she saw the pain that lingered in your eyes.

"Then fucking look at me! Look at me, mum!" you demanded, your frustration and anger boiling over as you gestured towards your scarred body with a trembling hand. Tears were streaming down your face as you looked up at your mother, pleading with her to understand the depth of your pain and confusion. You knew that you sounded harsh and unkind, but you couldn't help it. It felt like everything was spiraling out of control, and you couldn't find a way to make sense of it all.

Your mother did just that - she looked at you with a mixture of sadness and understanding while she helped you to get dressed. 

"I see you, Y/N. I see the pain and the struggle that you are going through, but I also see the strength and resilience that lies within you. You have always been a fighter and I have no doubt that you will overcome this," she said, her voice filled with warmth and encouragement as you let yourself fall back into the wheelchair before searching for some valium.  You needed to calm yourself down, to take the edge off of the overwhelming emotions that had taken hold of you.

"Thank you, mum," you whispered softly, taking a deep breath as you tried to push down the anxiety and despair that had settled over you like a shroud.

Your mother nodded, her eyes full of understanding as she leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

"I'm going to start making lunch now. Do you want anything in particular?" she asked, her voice gentle as she looked down at you with a mixture of love and concern.

"I am not hungry mum. I haven't even eaten my breakfast yet. I will just go back to bed, okay?" you told your mother, feeling utterly dejected. Your voice was small and barely above a whisper, but she heard you clearly.

"You need to eat something, sweetheart. And you need to go to your therapy sessions and treatment sessions. I cannot keep cancelling them for you," your mother said, her tone firm and unyielding, but you shook your head at her suggestions and demands.  "I do not want to go, mum. I am so fucking tired," you replied, your voice heavy with exhaustion and sadness. Your throat felt raw and sore from the force of your earlier sobs, but you refused to let your mother see you break down again. You couldn't bear the thought of her seeing you like that, it felt too vulnerable, too exposing.

You wheeled yourself away from her, back towards the bed and your mother simply sighed before, finally, giving up and heading back downstairs to call your father. She knew you needed space, that the past few weeks had taken a toll on you, but it didn't make her any less worried.

***

"I don't know what to do with her," she told him  later that day after he got home, her voice filled with a mixture of concern and frustration as she looked out at the rain beyond the window.

Your father sighed, his gaze flicking to where you were lying on the couch, your eyes glued to the TV as your fingers traced absentmindedly over the scar on your belly.

"She's been through a lot, love. Give it time," he said gently, but your mother shook her head.

"I know she's been through a lot, but this isn't like her," your mother explained. "She refuses to see the physiotherapist, she refuses to see the psychologist and she is taking too much valium," she continued, her voice tinged with a mix of worry and grief. 

Your father nodded, a frown etching itself onto his face as he watched you from where he stood, your eyes glued to the TV , lost in some drama you've probably watched a million times.

"Have you tried to confront her about it?" he asked, trying to reason with your mother and, of course, she nodded.  "Yes, I have. But she just shuts down and tells me to mind my own business. She has been isolating herself from us and from the rest of the world. She hasn't even had contact with..." your mother began to say, wiping away a rogue tear that had escaped her eye, just as your father interrupted her. 

"Don't you dare say his name in my house," he snapped, his eyes flashing with anger as he looked towards your mother. She recoiled at the intensity of his gaze before she continued. "If it wasn't for this man, she wouldn't be in this situation!" your father growled, his voice low and dangerous as he glared at your mother. "She needs time to heal and figure things out on her own. She doesn't need him complicating matters further," he added before pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, his anger palpable in every line of his body.

Your mother sighed, shaking her head as she looked at him with a mixture of sadness and resignation. "I know, but I actually think that she could benefit from his presence at the moment. He called last night, and it sounded like he's really worried about her, and I am worried too," your mother reasoned, her voice soft and understanding as she looked at your father with a mixture of pleading and hope in her eyes.

Your father sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to calm himself down. He knew that your mother was right - Cillian's presence could be just the thing that you needed. But something in him rebelled at the thought of it.

He had always been the overprotective father, and the thought of his little girl getting tangled up in a rather messy relationship with a man who was even older than him, made his gut twist in a way he couldn't quite explain.

"Fine," he finally conceded, nodding his head in agreement before looking at your mother. "Call him and ask him to come up to Liverpool for a week. Maybe he can get through to her and make her take her treatments seriously," he told your mother, his jaw set firmly in determination as he looked at her. "But there is no fucking way this man is staying here over night. He needs to organize himself some accommodation in town," your father added, his voice firm and unwavering.

"We do have a guestroom, you know," your mother countered, her eyebrows raised in a challenge. "It would be good for him to be here when she has a breakdown again. Maybe it will help," your mother replied gently, knowing that she was pushing the limits of her husband's patience. She had seen the way Cillian looked at you in hospital, and she knew that he cared for you deeply. 

Your father sighed, his gaze flicking towards the couch where you were still lying in silence.

"Fine," he relented, his voice filled with a mixture of reluctance and resignation. "He can stay in the guestroom," he confirmed and your mother nodded, relief flooding her features as she moved towards your father and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Thank you. I know it's not ideal, and that it goes against every protective instinct you have as a father and a man of faith, but I truly believe this is what she needs right now," your mother told him before, without your knowledge, making the call. 

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

#cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy

[forgottenpeakywriter]

An Illicit Affair

Part 33: Hard Decisions

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

Hours later, and while the police was looking into the whereabouts of Danielle, Cillian returned to the hospital to find you in a calm state. You had been given some medication to calm you down, but the moment Cillian walked through the door, panic  flared in your eyes.

"What's wrong?" you asked after observing the concern etched onto Cillian's face.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes before taking a seat beside you, his hand reaching out to grasp yours firmly.

"Can I speak with Y/N alone for a moment please?" Cillian requested and, without hesitation, your mother, who had been with you at the time, excused herself from the room, granting Cillian his privacy.

"What's going on, Cillian?" your voice wavered slightly, uncertainty clouding your features as you looked up at him and Cillian hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor before he met your eyes once more.

"I think that Danielle has been stalking you," he admitted, each word heavy with regret. "Not only that, but I have reason to believe that she was behind the hit-and-run as well," Cillian continued, your eyes widening in shock at his words.

You shook your head, unwilling to accept what he was saying. "What?" you asked, incredulity and disbelief lacing your voice as you tried to process what Cillian was saying. "That's not possible," you protested, refusing to believe that anyone, not even Danielle, would be capable of such act. 

But Cillian remained resolute, his gaze unwavering as he filled you in on the evidence he had discovered, the inconsistencies that had led him to suspect Danielle, and the steps he had taken to keep you and Max safe.

As you listened, your heart ached, a heavy weight settling in your chest as you struggled to come to terms with the enormity of his words.

"It's all my fault Y/N ," Cillian's voice cracked, guilt and pain etched on every line of his face. "If I hadn't filed for divorce, if I hadn't gotten involved with you, none of this would have happened. Please believe me, when I say that I never intended for any of this to happen."

You shook your head, squeezing his hand gently in reassurance. "No, Cillian," you whispered softly, holding back the tears that threatened to spill over. "None of this is your fault, Cillian."

Cillian looked at you, a storm raging within his piercing blue eyes. "I should have seen the signs, I should have had her committed when she started to hurt herself for attention and now, this happened..." he sighed deeply but his words were cut off by Max's voice echoing through the corridor all so suddenly.

"What did you do, dad?"  Max's voice rang out, heavy with anger and resentment. He stopped cold in the doorway, his gaze switching back and forth between Cillian and you, his expression a volatile mix of emotions.

Cillian sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, weariness settling into every line of his body as he prepared for the confrontation that was to come.

"Max," he began slowly, taking a deep breath as he tried to find the right words to diffuse the situation.

"Mum is going to prison, because of you! Because you  couldn't keep your dick in your pants!" Max yelled, taking a step towards them, fury radiating off him like a tangible force.

Cillian closed his eyes for a moment, the weight of Max's words heavy on his chest. When he opened them again, he looked at Max, unflinching and resolute. "You have to understand something, Max. There is absolutely no excuse for what she has done. She did this , Max. Not me. Not anyone else. If she ends up in jail, it will be because she made some truly terrible decisions," Cillian said firmly, staring his son down while knowing, deep down inside, that he too was to blame. 

"She did this because you hurt her !" Max yelled back, frustration seeping out of every pore.

"I didn't force her to do anything, Max. This is on her. Not me," Cillian replied firmly. He could feel himself losing control of the situation, feel the emotions that had been building up for weeks finally about to burst through the surface. His hands were tightly clenched into fists and his teeth grinding together against one another with each word he uttered.

Max had always been protective of his mother, always stood by her side through thick and thin. They had been through a lot together, and Cillian couldn't blame him for feeling the way he did. But he also knew that there was no excuse for what Danielle had done. 

"That's enough! Get out! Both of you!" your mother 's voice rang out from the doorway, seeing you cry while Cillian and Max argued with one another.  "Or I call security!" your mother threatened, stepping into the room and putting a hand on Max's arm. Your eyes widened with shock at her words, your breath hitching as you looked back and forth between Cillian and Max, almost feeling the anger and tension that emanated off them.

Cillian nodded , his face a mask of calm that belied the turmoil he felt inside. "We should go," he said quietly, taking one last look at you before turning to leave, Max stalking behind him.

As you watched them go, the weight of the day's events finally crashing down upon you. You had always known that there was something off about Danielle's actions in the past few weeks, but you never could have imagined that it would come to this.

You sighed, closing your eyes as your mother wrapped her arms around you, resting her head on your shoulder.

She didn't say anything, but you could feel her love and support radiating from her like a gentle warmth. You leaned into her embrace, taking comfort in the familiar scent of her perfume and the steady beat of her heart.

"You need to separate yourself from this chaos Y/N," she whispered softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. "You don't deserve any of this and you certainly don't need this kind of stress while you're still recovering."

You nodded, your eyes filling with tears as you thought of everything that had happened. You knew that she was right, but you also didn't think that you could get through this without Cillian's support.  The past few weeks had been a blur of emotions and you had found solace in Cillian's arms.

But now, as the day drew to a close, and the sun dipped below the horizon, you couldn't help but wonder if it was all worth it. Was your relationship with Cillian worth the heartache and turmoil that seemed to follow you both?

As you lay in your hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling, a thousand thoughts and worries swirling through your mind, a soft knock on the door startled you out of your reverie.

You turned your head, expecting to see one of the nurses or perhaps your mother, but instead, Cillian stepped into the room. He had been gone for hours, dealing with Max and Danielle's arrest, so you did not think that he would come back until the following day, but clearly, you were mistaken. 

He looked exhausted, his eyes ringed with dark circles and his hair disheveled. He carried with him an aura of worry and concern, and as he approached your bedside, you could feel your heart rate quicken in response.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he took your hand in his.

His thumb brushed gently over your knuckles, the pad of his thumb leaving a trail of heat and desire along your skin. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart fluttering in your chest at his touch.

"Hey," you replied softly, not trusting yourself to say more. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him as you watched him take a seat beside your bed.

"I am so sorry Y/N. I had to leave to deal with Max, but I know that I should have stayed," Cillian said, his voice pained and heavy with regret.

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze as the weight of his words settled between you like a barrier.

"Cillian, what happened with Danielle?" you asked quietly, your curiosity getting the better of you.

Cillian sighed deeply, running a hand through his short hair, before meeting your eyes once more. "She is in custody for now, but I am quite sure that she will be transferred to a more appropriate facility tomorrow," he explained and, whilst you knew that it had to be done, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for both, Cillian and Max.

"I am sorry , Cillian, that you and Max have to go through all of that," you finally said and, when his eyes met yours, you saw the deep pain and turmoil that were hidden beneath his piercing blue gaze. It frightened you to see this side of him, and deep down inside, you wished that things didn't have to be so complicated, but you knew that there was no turning back now.

"And listen, I have made the decision to transfer to Liverpool hospital tomorrow. I just cannot stay here and deal with this at the moment. I may not be able to walk again, at least not for a while, and I cannot go back to the student accommodation. My mother will look after me for a while. She is taking long service leave and," you began to say nervously before Cillian interrupted you. 

"No Y/N. You should stay here. The treatment options here are much better. You can live with me. I will look after you and make sure you have everything you need. You can move into my apartment as soon as the doctors say that it’s safe for you to leave the hospital,” Cillian interjected, the intensity in his eyes unmistakable.

Your heart skipped a beat at the offer and, before you knew it, your lips were forming into an involuntary smile. “That sounds nice, Cillian,” you whispered softly, still unable to tear your gaze away from his own. "But I can't accept this offer. Not like this. I don't want to be a burden to you and you really need to sort things out between you and Max,"  you said quietly, your eyes pleading with Cillian to see reason.

Cillian frowned, a look of disappointment crossing his features. "Y/N, I know what I'm doing. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it," he assured you, but you couldn't shake the feeling that it was a bad idea.

You sighed, rubbing your temples as you tried to alleviate the tension that had built up in your head. "Cillian, this is all too much for me. I just need some time to process everything and you need time away from me to work on that relationship between you and your son," you finally said, your voice weak and trembling. You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away, determined not to cry in front of Cillian.

Cillian nodded, his expression solemn as he looked down at your hand, still clasped tightly in his own. "Y/N, please. I love you and I don't want to be away from you," Cillian whispered, his voice pleading as he looked up at you with an intensity that almost made your knees buckle.

You shook your head, trying to clear the haze of confusion and conflicting emotions that had settled over you like a fog. "Cillian...I love you too, but I can't. Not right now. I need time to think," you replied softly, your voice trembling slightly.

Cillian looked down at the ground, taking a deep breath before meeting your gaze once more.

I understand," he whispered softly, but the disappointment was evident in every line of his face.

You couldn't bear to see him like that. The guilt and pain that had been weighing down on your heart since the moment you realized that you had developed feelings for Cillian threatened to consume you, and the thought of hurting him in any way left you feeling sick with worry.

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face before reaching out to take Cillian's hand in your own.

You knew that you loved him, and the thought of being away from him made your heart ache, but you also knew that you needed some time apart to process everything that had happened.

"Cillian, I promise that this isn't the end. I just need some space. I need to figure out what is best for me and what is best for you. I don't want to be the cause of any more pain or turmoil in your life," you whispered softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want to focus on getting better and you could come and visit me after a few weeks or so, if you would like," you added, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.

Cillian sighed, nodding slowly as he took in your words. "Okay, Y/N. I understand." He looked pained but understanding. "I'll give you the space you need."

The silence stretched between you like a yawning chasm, leaving an ache in its wake. Cillian reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face before rising to his feet.

"I'll let you rest then," he said, his voice quiet and gentle.

You nodded, watching as he made his way to the door, his movements slow and weighed down by a sense of sadness that seemed to hang over him like a shroud.

As the door swung shut behind him, sealing you off from the rest of the world, you couldn't help but feel a pang of regret.

You knew that this was the right decision, that you both needed time apart to sort out your respective lives, but the thought of being away from him left a hollow ache in your chest.

You sighed, sinking back into your pillows as you closed your eyes, reliving every moment you had spent with Cillian over the past few weeks. From the moment you met, to the first time he kissed you, to the way he had looked at you just before he left - it was all a blur of emotions and sensations that made it hard for you to think straight.

You swallowed hard, a tear rolling down your cheek as you relived each memory, etching them into your mind so that they would never fade away. Your heart ached as you remembered the time you shared with one another, and you couldn't help but wonder if things would ever be the same between you both again.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n

[forgottenpeakywriter]

Sweet Possession (Part 5)

Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)

Warning: Age Gap, Smut

Two days later, when you were working at the orphanage again, it came as a surprise to you that Michael Grosvenor, the man who had invaded your personal space in Thomas' eyes, was no longer there. According to another staff member, Michael had resigned and his abrupt departure surprised you.

"He resigned? Really?"  you asked the staff member, surprised by this sudden turn of events. You wondered if Thomas had anything to do with Michael's departure, but you quickly dismissed the thought. 

"Yes, he came in and gave his resignation this morning without any prior notice," the staff member explained to you. "He just said that he received a better offer elsewhere and couldn't pass it up."

You nodded, trying to process this information.  Something didn't quite add up, but you couldn't put your finger on it. You had never seen Thomas act out of anger, but there was something in the way he had reacted to hearing about Michael two nights ago that made you think twice. Your husband was an influential man, and you knew he had connections all over town. But still, to get an employee fired just for touching your arm seemed extreme, even for a man of his standing. 

But you quickly pushed the thought out of your mind as you turned back to your work at the orphanage. The children needed your attention and, as an employee there, you did not want to let them down.

Eventually, days turned into weeks and soon a month had passed since your wedding day. You had settled well into your new life with Thomas. He was attentive and kind, always making sure that you were well taken care of. Twice a week, you worked at the orphanage with Isiah by your side and twice a week, you cooked, for your husband and the staff of the house, which was something you truly enjoyed. 

In your time off, Thomas and you would spend it together in his house which became more of a home with each day that passed. You also enjoyed the stables, riding horses and even having days in bed with your new husband, exploring each other's bodies and learning new things about one another. It was during those moments that you truly felt like a married couple, in love and content.

But, despite the love that Thomas had for you, there were moments where he would disappear for hours, sometimes entire days and nights on end. You never asked where he went or what he did but his absence would leave you feeling empty and anxious. He would always come back to you eventually, hands clean of any negative deeds, simply telling you that "he had business to attend to" before pulling you into a tight embrace.

You knew better than to ask questions, knowing that he would never reveal the truth behind his absence and that his world was one you had only scratched the surface of.

Still, despite the unknown aspects about your husband, you trusted him while, unbeknownst to you, Thomas Shelby was one of the most ruthless men in Birmingham. But, when it came to you, his wife, he was as gentle as a lamb. Your innocence seemed to calm him down and make him a better man. 

Little did you know, that beneath his charming exterior and seemingly kind demeanor was a man capable of murder, extortion, and other heinous crimes. This side of him he reserved for his business dealings with other gang members and none of them revealed anything about your husband's crimes to you until the day you were shocked when you read the morning paper. 

"Man found murdered by the docks," the headlines  screamed at you, as you sat down on the comfortable armchair with a cup of tea in your hands. The photo accompanying the article was a gruesome one, showing a man's lifeless body lying crumpled and twisted next to the water.

Your heart skipped a beat when you recognized the victim as Michael Grosvenor, your colleague from the orphanage. The name registered in your mind immediately and with it came the memories of his sudden departure from the children's home just weeks ago. 

"Isiah, did you see this?" you asked , your voice trembling as you held up the paper for him to see.

Isiah, who had been standing by the window, watching the morning rain, turned to look at you. His expression was one of surprise and concern as he took in the headline.

"Hmm," he muttered under his breath, his eyes scanning the article while he shook his head, sighing deeply in disbelief as if he already knew that Michael Grosvenor was dead.

"You don't seem to be surprised, Isiah. Why is that?" you asked, your eyes narrowing as you studied his face.

"I can't say, Miss," Isiah replied, his tone carefully neutral. "It'sjust, I had a feeling, you know." 

You nodded, although you couldn't shake an uneasy feeling growing in your stomach. "Who would do such a thing?" you asked , your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to process the information. You were shocked and horrified to find out that Michael had been murdered.

"I couldn't say, Miss," Isiah replied, his expression somber. "It could be anyone. Birmingham is a dangerous place, after all, that's why your husband has me looking after you when he isn't around." 

You nodded slowly, still trying to make sense of it all. Your mind kept drifting back to Thomas and the possessiveness he had shown towards you. You wondered if there was a connection between his behavior and Michael's murder.

But the thought of Thomas being capable of such a thing was impossible for you to comprehend. He had never shown any violent tendencies towards you and had always been kind and gentle. Yet, you couldn't ignore the feeling that something wasn't quite right.

Later that day, when your husband returned home, you couldn't help but observe him closely. He was charming and polite as always, his eyes softening when they met yours. But there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn't been there before.

"Is everything okay, Thomas?" you asked, your voice hesitant as you stepped closer to him.

"Of course, Love," Thomas replied, his voice soothing as he pulled you into his embrace. "Why do you ask?"

"I just...I read about Michael Grosvenor today," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "It said that he was found dead by the docks," you told him and Tommy simply nodded before running his fingers over your cheek. 

"I'm sorry to hear that," he then said, but there was no emotion in his voice. It was as if he were discussing the weather instead of a man's untimely death.

"Me too. He was a nice man," you replied, your voice distant as you tried to keep your emotions in check. You pulled back from Thomas and looked up at him, your eyes searching for any hint of what he might be feeling.

Thomas looked down at you, his expression unreadable. There was a moment of silence between you as you both waited for the other to say something. Finally, Thomas spoke up.

"I missed you today , Love," Thomas' voice was low and husky, his eyes darkening with desire a he ought to change the topic. 

"I missed you too, Tommy," you whispered, your voice trembling. You knew better than to bring Michael's name up again , knowing full well how jealous Thomas could become. So, you pushed the thought out of your mind and focused on the present moment with your husband.

Thomas' hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer as he pressed a kiss to your neck. "I'm glad," Thomas replied, his lips brushing against your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine. "Because I had a really long day today and all I want to do right now is fuck my wife." 

"Tommy, stop," you gasped. "I have dinner in the oven," you protested, your voice weak as he trailed kisses down your neck. "It's almost ready."

But Thomas didn't seem to care about dinner. His hands were already undoing the buttons of your blouse, his fingers deft and quick as he exposed your bare skin.

"Fuck dinner, eh," Thomas growled, his mouth finding the curve of your breast as he tugged your blouse off and let it fall to the floor.  "I need you. Right fucking now."

You gasped as he took your nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak until you were writhing against him, desperate for more. He reached down between your legs, tearing your panties aside as he stroked your wet folds with his fingers.

"You're so fucking wet for me," Thomas murmured, his voice dripping with desire as he pressed a finger inside of you. "Always so ready for me."

You moaned softly, your hips bucking upward as he added a second finger, stretching you in the most delicious way. He rubbed his thumb over your clit, making you gasp as pleasure shot through your body.

"Thomas," you breathed, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you held on for dear life. 

"Bend over my desk ," Thomas growled, his eyes blazing with a raw, primal hunger.

Your legs trembled as you obeyed his commands, turning around and bending over.

"Perfect," Thomas growled, his hands moving to your hips as he positioned himself behind you and unbuckled his belt.

He then unzipped his pants, pulled them down with his boxers and pushed aside your panties. 

You gasped as you felt him press the tip of his cock against your entrance, teasing you with what was to come.

Thomas' grip on your hips tightened as he thrust inside of you with one swift motion. You cried out at the sudden invasion, your walls stretching around him as he buried himself deep within you.

Thomas set a relentless pace, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoing through the room as he moved in and out of you.

"You feel so fucking good," Thomas grunted, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he powered into you. "So tight and warm around my cock."

You moaned as he hit your sweet spot, your walls clenching around him as pleasure spiked through your body.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're going to make me cum like this," Thomas growled, his thrusts becoming erratic.

You could tell he was close, but you weren't quite there yet. You needed something more...something extra to push you over the edge.

As if reading your mind, Thomas reached around and pressed his thumb against your clit. You moaned as he strummed the sensitive bundle of nerves, each stroke sending lances of sensation straight to your core.

"Yes, just like that," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please don't stop."

Thomas grunted in response, his hips moving faster as he fucked you harder. You could feel yourself getting close, the familiar heat coiling low in your belly. It wouldn't be long now...until suddenly it hit you.  Your orgasm tore through your body like a tidal wave, leaving you trembling with pleasure.

"Fuck, Love..." he groaned. "Please let me come inside you," Thomas' voice was husky and raw with desire.

"No, you can't cum inside me," you said, your own voice breathless with pleasure.

"Please Y/N. Let me fill you up. Let me claim you as mine in every possible way," Thomas pleaded, his voice hoarse with desire, as he continued to pump in and out of your slick heat.

You bit your lip, unsure what to do. Part of you wanted to let him, wanted to feel him cum inside of you, but there was another part of you that knew it was a terrible idea.

"I can't Tommy. I am not ready," you moaned, your hips bucking as he grazed your g-spot with each thrust. Falling pregnant wasn't an option for you, not yet at least and Tommy knew that all too well. 

Groaning in frustration, he pulled out of you at the last possible second, spilling his seed upon your lower back in hot, white streams. The combination of your orgasm and his release left him feeling weak at the knees, but he still managed to reach for his handkerchief and clean you up.

You watched him as he worked, your chest heaving with exertion and pleasure. Your muscles felt like jelly and you could barely muster up enough energy to stand on your own two feet.

Thomas helped you straighten up and pulled up your panties before he righted his own clothing and fastened his belt.

He turned you around and pulled you into an embrace. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he placed a soft kiss on your lips.

"I'm sorry, Love," Thomas whispered, his voice low and rough. "I couldn't help myself. I had to ask." 

You smiled up at him, your fingertips tracing the line of his jaw. "It's okay Tommy," you replied softly.  "One day soon, I'll be ready."

Thomas nodded, his chin resting on top of your head as he held you close. He didn't want to pressure you, but the thought of filling you up with his seed, marking you as his own in the most primal way possible, was driving him wild with desire. 

"I know, Love," Thomas murmured. "You are still young."  Thomas said, his voice barely above a whisper against your ear as he held you close. "And sometimes I seem to forget that," your husband added, a hint of regret in his tone.

Thomas' hands trailed down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He pulled back from you just enough to look into your eyes.

"You know I love you, right?" Thomas asked, his voice soft and sincere and, of course, you nodded.

"I love you too, Tommy," you replied, your voice just as sincere.

You believed in the truth of those words with every fiber of your being. You loved Thomas Shelby more than anything or anyone in this world and he knew it. But what he didn't know is that there were times when you felt like something was missing between the two of you. Something fundamental that should hold a marriage together but seemed to be absent in yours. You couldn't put your finger on it and that was probably why you never brought it up.  It wasn't anything tangible, just a feeling that lingered in the pit of your stomach. It only made itself known when Thomas was away on business and even then, it wasn't always present.

There was something about him and his life you did not know or understand, but you were too afraid to ask.

And even if you did ask, Thomas would never tell you.

It was one of those things that people kept to themselves.

One of those taboos only whispered about behind closed doors.

There were many rumors, but you never gave them much thought, always writing them off as malicious gossip meant to bring down a great man.

But still, the feeling remained and you couldn't shake it off no matter how hard you tried.

There was a darkness within him that you had only caught glimpses of, but it made you wonder what truly went on in his mind.

That night, after the intense love-making session and dinner, your husband had some more business matters to attend to and, again, you didn't question him.

"When will you be back?" you asked , your voice soft as you watched Thomas gather his things.

"I don't know, Love," Thomas replied, his expression apologetic. "I wish I could tell you more, but I can't. Not yet. It's just...it's complicated."

You nodded, understanding that this was part of the territory when you married a man like Thomas Shelby. You were used to the uncertainty by now, but that didn't mean it was easy. You swallowed past the lump in your throat and forced a smile on your face.

"It's okay, Tommy," you assured him. "I understand. I'll be here when you get back."

That was all you could do, really. Wait for him to return and hope that everything would be alright. Sometimes, the uncertainty was almost too much to bear, but you loved Thomas too much to let it come between you.

He leaned down and gave you a gentle kiss on the lips before heading out the door. You watched him leave, your heart heavy as you closed the door behind him.

The house felt empty without him, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of loneliness settling in. You walked around the house, touching the ornate furniture and fine artwork that filled the space, each piece a reflection of Thomas' wealth and power.

As you moved through the rooms, taking in the beauty of your surroundings, you couldn't help but feel a sense of disconnect from it all. The opulence and luxury were overwhelming, and you wondered if this was truly the life you wanted to live.

In the end, you retreated to your husband's office in the search for some good whiskey and a pen and paper.  You knew you wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, not until Thomas was home safe and sound. You poured yourself a generous glass of whiskey and settled down in the comfortable leather chair behind Thomas's desk.

The amber liquid burned pleasantly in your throat as you took a deep sip, warming your body as it coursed through your veins. Your eyes landed on the pen and paper that lay next to the decanter, and on a whim, you decided to write down your feelings, something you hadn't done in a long time.

It was a simple task, writing down your thoughts and emotions, but it felt good to get everything out of your system and onto the page. As you wrote, the words flowed freely from your mind to your hand and before long, you had filled up the entire page with ink.

As you read through what you had written, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. It was as if a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders, and you felt lighter than you had in a long time.

You continued to write for hours, pouring your heart and soul onto the page until there was nothing left to say.

When you got the last piece of paper however, you noticed something strange. There was a key hidden beneath the pile of  sheets. Frowning, you picked it up, turning it over between your fingers. It was small and made of brass, the keychain a simple ring with the letters 'BP' engraved into it.

Calling for one of the maids, you enquired about the key but even Frances did not know what it was meant to open.

You thanked her nonetheless before curiosity got the better of you , and you decided to embark on your own little investigation.

You started with doors, then cabinets, even trying it in some of the antique jewelry boxes belonging to Tommy's late first wife, Grace. 

But it seemed that the key was made for neither of those things.

As you made your way through the mansion, you continued to search for any possible place it could fit. It wasn't until you reached the cellar that you found the answer.

The cellar was dimly lit, with rows upon rows of wine bottles lining the walls. It felt like a completely different world compared to the luxurious and bright atmosphere of the mansion above and after looking around for a while, you came across an old desk in the corner of the cellar, cluttered with old papers and knick-knacks. It looked untouched for years, gathering dust and cobwebs.

You approached it, drawn to it for some reason. You ran your fingers over the dusty surface, feeling the history of the mansion seep into your skin.

Then you saw it - a large, old looking lockbox nestled in between two old books.

Your heart raced as you pulled out the brass key from your pocket and inserted it into the lock.

You held your breath as you turned the key, listening for the sound of the tumblers falling into place. With a soft click, the lock disengaged and you slowly lifted the lid, revealing the box's contents which comprised of sheets of paper and photographs.

You had not expected to find anything particularly interesting in the lockbox, but as you sifted through the contents, you discovered that the papers and photographs all related to you and the past life that you had lived.

There were photographs of you and the respective men you had been with in the past. There were employment records, family records and even health records . It was like staring into a mirror that reflected the life you had lived before Thomas Shelby came along, dating back to when you were much younger than you are now.

Then there were photographs and records for each of your past boyfriends too and if this wasn't enough already, accompanied with them were police reports relating to their deaths.  Everything was organized and compiled in a neat manner, almost like a journal, but the sheer gravity of it all left you feeling cold and numb.

Your parents and brother had a file as well , each bearing details of their lives and deaths and whilst it was clear that your parents had passed by accident, the disappearance of your brother and ex-lovers didn't seem to be such a random occurrence anymore.

Unbeknownst to you, all of them were dead . Vanished into thin air, or rather, killed and disposed of methodically.

You felt a chill run down your spine as you came across the stack of obituaries, the names and faces staring back at you, only further confirming what was once unthinkable.

"Oh my god!"  you gasped, your hands shaking as you dropped the obituaries and stumbled back, your heart pounding in your chest. "What is this? What does it mean?"

You knew the answer before the question even left your lips. The evidence was right in front of you, impossible to ignore.

Your now husband had been spying on you for a while , keeping a detailed record of your past relationships and ultimately ensuring that each one of those men met an untimely end so that he could claim you one day.

"No, it can't be," you whispered to yourself, your voice shaking with fear and confusion. 

But as you continued to sift through the contents of the lockbox, the truth became increasingly apparent. Thomas Shelby wasn't the man you thought he was. He was controlling, manipulative, and dangerous in ways you could never have imagined and when, eventually, you heard his voice ringing out from the top of the stairs, you couldn't help but feel your stomach drop.

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@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

#cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #tommy shelby smut

[forgottenpeakywriter]

The Law Student (Rewritten)

Part Eight: A Date

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (20) & Reader (30)

Note: This plays in 1996, just before Cillian drops out of law school.

The following week, you returned to the lecture hall, armed with fresh coffee and a renewed sense of purpose following two days off. 

The students trickled in one by one, filling the lecture hall with a low buzz of chatter. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the hour ahead. Just as you were about to begin, Cillian walked in.

Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes met his. He wore a simple white shirt that contrasted with the dark blue of his eyes, making them appear more vivid and intense than ever. A lock of his wavy hair fell over his forehead, adding to his boyish charm. He nodded at you, offering a small smile as he made his way to an empty seat in the front row.

You started the lecture, feeling a nervous tremor in your voice and, throughout the lecture, Cillian raised his hand a few times, really making an effort that morning.

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest every time he looked at you and engaged  in a discussion and you soon struggled to focus , your mind wandering off into a world full of longing and desire.

From time to time, you caught yourself staring at him, noticing every little detail about him, from the freckles on the back of his neck to the small scar above his right eyebrow.

A fierce blush heated your cheeks whenever you realized that you had been caught staring, but Cillian just gave you a playful wink before turning back to the front to continue diligently taking notes.

Before you knew it, class was over and you dismissed your students with a fervent sigh of relief.

You busied yourself with gathering your notes and packing up your belongings, trying to avoid Cillian's gaze as he lingered in his seat. But as you lifted your gaze to the lecture hall door, you noticed him getting up and walking towards you, a determined look in his eyes.

"Excuse me, Miss Y/LN," he said, stopping just short of your desk. "Can I have a word with you? In your office, maybe? Somewhere private." 

You hesitated before nodding and gesturing for him to follow you out of the lecture hall.  Your heart raced as you walked down the hallway, trying to ignore the heat that crept up your neck. Once inside your cramped office, you closed the door behind him, turning to face him.

"What can I do for you, Cillian?" You asked, placing your hands on your desk and trying to maintain a semblance of professionalism. But the way his eyes locked onto yours made it difficult to stay in control.

Cillian took a deep breath before speaking. "Why did you come over the other day? To my house?" Cillian finished, his voice wavering slightly as he awaited your response. You took a deep breath, trying to quell the fluttering in your chest. "I wanted to check on you after what happened at the pub. We had quite a scene there, and I thought it would be best if I could confirm that you were alright," you explained, keeping your tone measured and professional.

Cillian studied you for a moment, his eyes searching for any hint of untruthfulness or impropriety. "Is that all?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You hesitated for a moment before answering.

"Well, I also wanted to make sure that there were no rumors or misunderstandings about us, given that we had been seen together in such a provocative situation," you admitted, feeling the need to be completely honest with him. 

"You worry too much, Miss Y/LN," Cillian said with a small smile, taking a step closer to you. "And to tell you the truth, I was kinda hoping that you came to see me because, I don't know...,"  Cillian trailed off, his voice lowering to a husky whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "Maybe you  came by to see me because you couldn't stop thinking about me."

"Cillian, we have been through this. I am your professor. We cannot cross that line again. Besides, you barely know me," you stated, trying to maintain a sense of reason in the face of your own desires.

However, Cillian's gaze never wavered as he took another step towards you, his eyes filled with determination and a sense of urgency. "I know enough about you to know that I want to get to know you better," Cillian said, his voice steady as he reached for your hand and gently placed it over his erratically beating heart. "I really like you," Cillian then whispered, leaning in closer and your pulse quickened as his breath tickled your ear, sending waves of heat coursing through your veins. You tried to steady yourself, but the feeling of Cillian's strong grip on your hand and the warmth radiating from his body made it hard to focus.

"I am ten years older than you , Cillian. It's unethical and would only lead to trouble," you said, trying to rationalize your way out of this situation, but Cillian's grip on your hand only tightened.

"I know all that. But sometimes, we can't control who we have feelings for. And I have feelings for you, Miss Y/LN," Cillian whispered, his voice filled with sincerity that made your heart ache with longing.

You looked into his deep blue eyes and saw the raw emotion that was written all over his face.

It was clear to you that he had put a lot of thought into this and that what he was saying was true. You felt your walls starting to crumble as you listened to his impassioned words. 

"Cillian, I can't," you protested weakly, pulling your hand away from his with a tremble. "But I tell you what, maybe once this semester is finished, we  can talk about this again. But until then, I need you to focus on your studies and I'll focus on keeping my job," you said, trying to regain your composure and maintain a sense of decorum.

Cillian nodded, taking a step back from you. "What if I drop out?" Cillian suddenly asked, his deep blue eyes burning with intensity as he searched your face for a reaction.

"What? No, Cillian," you said firmly, shaking your head at him. "You cannot quit law school just because of me. You have a bright future ahead of you, and you need to focus on that right now."

Cillian bit his lower lip, looking unsure for a moment. "Are you sure? I mean, I was thinking about it even before we met," he confessed in a low voice. "I just don't think law is for me. It's fucking boring. I want to do something more creative, more fulfilling," Cillian continued, his deep blue eyes sincere and earnest.

You looked at him, considering his words. You knew that he had talent and potential, but leaving law school was a big decision that would impact his future. However, it was not your place to make that decision for him.

"Cillian, I can't tell you what to do. But I will say that leaving law school is a big decision and you should think carefully about it without me being a factor in your decision making. You should finish this semester and then evaluate,"  you said, looking into his deep blue eyes.

Cillian sighed and nodded in agreement. "Okay, well, I tell you what," Cillian began, his voice taking on a determined tone. "I will pull through this semester if you go on a date with me - just one date," he added, holding up a hand as if to demonstrate his sincerity. 

"That is a terrible idea, Cillian! We cannot possibly go on a date," you chuckled , shaking your head at him in a light-hearted manner. 

"Just one date, Miss Y/LN," Cillian persisted, his deep blue eyes pleading with you. "I promise I won't try anything inappropriate; I just want to get to know you better. You're an amazing person. Plus, I think we could have a good time together," he added, his voice full of sincerity.

You looked into his deep blue eyes and felt your resistance crumble. You knew that agreeing to this was a bad idea, but you couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in your chest at the thought of spending more time with Cillian. "Fine," you heard yourself saying. "One date, and that's it.

Cillian's face lit up with an ear-to-ear grin.

"At my house! Not in public!" you said hastily. "We could watch a movie, or something, I don't know,"  you added, trying to downplay the significance of the date.

Cillian's grin grew wider. "I could cook for you," he  offered, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"You can cook?" you asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise. 

"Of course I can," Cillian lied, his eyes shining with excitement. "So, how about Friday night? Would that work for you?" Cillian asked, his deep blue eyes earnest and hopeful.

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Alright, fine," you said with a small smile. "Friday night it is and, after that, we won't be talking about this again. At least not until the semester is over and you are no longer in my class," you told him , trying to establish clear boundaries.

Cillian nodded eagerly, clearly thrilled that you had agreed. "You won't regret it, I promise," he assured you before leaving your office with a boyish grin on his face.

Despite the excitement of the moment, you couldn't shake off a sense of unease. You knew that agreeing to this date was risky, and it could compromise your job and reputation. But there was something about Cillian that drew you in - his passion, his confidence, and his raw sexual energy.

It had been a long time since you had felt such intense attraction to someone, and it scared you. You couldn't deny that you were intrigued by him, not just as your student, but as a man.

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#cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian fic #cillian

[forgottenpeakywriter]

Blind Date

Ongoing Series Part 177- More

Pairing - Modern Thomas Shelby and Reader

Warnings- Sexual content, swearing, violence. 18+

Would love to hear your thoughts on this fic!

“So… an extra one for Christmas Lunch?” Esme stated, picking up her Gin and Tonic. “Too soon?”

It had been a few days, since Tommy announced he had another son. You hadn’t even met him. Tommy had tried, to get in contact with him. But, Duke had said he didn’t need a Dad. He had managed without one, for this long.

Tommy has been devastated, of course. They were all about family. But, Polly had talked him into just giving him some time to adjust. Let the boy, get used to the idea first. Don’t force it. Tommy had wanted to drive back to Liverpool, to see him again. Then found out, he had gone on the road with his Uncle.

Checking Tommy wasn’t listening, you leant closer to Esme. “You heard the news then? It’s just hard to comprehend. Why didn’t his Mum ever tell Tommy? I just done get it,” Tommy caught your eye, and winked at you. He looked as handsome as ever, in a white shirt and black suit.

"Greta... was complicated," Esme started, "I knew her when we were young, we travelled together,"

"Went on holiday?" you asked naively, feeling Ada sit next to you. Leaning closer to listen to the gossip.

"No," Esme laughed, "I was on the road with the travelling community, just like she was. For months at a time. Her Dad would never have allowed her, to be with Tommy. Their whole family stays together, and she was unwed," Esme nodded, lifting her eyebrows.

"It's just such a shame, Tommy has missed out on all of this time," you answered. Observing Ada and Esme exchange a look. "What? Don't say there's twins?"

Seeing Tommy approach, Esme whispered in your ear. "He is a wrong 'un, always in trouble, stealing, drinking. Tommy's better off,"

"Can I steal my fiancée ladies?" Tommy asked, holding his hand out for you to take. He didn't want to leave you alone with Esme, for too long. Who knew what she was saying to you. Filling your head with fairy tales, no doubt.

He knew her and Greta had been friends. But she said she hadn't known Tommy was the father. Apparently Esme hadn't seen her for years.

Smiling up at Tommy, you let him take your hand. Leading you towards the bar, today was Michael's birthday party. You hadn't seen him since, he bound into your office. Demanding a unit. No, you didn't want that to happen. You would tell Tommy, if you had to.

Play the vulnerable woman, if that's what it took.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight, ey?" Tommy nuzzled into your neck. Hand resting on your lower back, where your dress dipped down. Sweeping your hair across your shoulder, to expose your skin.

"You did, thank you," you answered, pecking his lips. At just the right height, in your killer heels.

Leaning slightly back, Tommy's eyes grazed over your chest. He wasn't happy, about the dress you had chosen. He thought you looked sexy of course, but he felt your chest was on display. He didn't want other men, ogling your breasts.

Two hours earlier-

"Are you ready to go?" Tommy had asked, walking into your en-suite, pausing when he observed what you were doing.

"Nearly," you replied, half listening, concentrating on sticking the tape between your dress and the side of your breast. Making sure everything was strapped in, you knew what he was thinking. Too revealing.

Lifting your arm on the opposite side, he frowned.

"You cant see anything, everything is taped in," you scowled at him. "It's all held in place,"

"Baby, you look beautiful, you always do..." he started, roaming his fingers across your ass. "Just..."

"It's a hint of side boob, Tommy, Don't make a big thing of it, that's' how the dress is meant to be." you warned, checking your reflection, you picked up your bag. Strutting through the bedroom.

He was not going to tell you what you could wear.

"A hint of fucking side boob," Tommy muttered to himself, wanting to take his jacket off. And cover you up with it. All of his men would be there, all of Michael's idiot friends. For fucks sake...

Present-

"Is the side boob still taped in?" you asked with a giggle, able to read his mind.

Tilting his head, he raised one eyebrow, not finding you amusing in the slightest. "Yes, every time I get a peak, my cock twitches," Running his fingers along your spine again, they ran dangerously close to the dip in your dress.

"What do you think, about Duke?" Ada asked Polly, "Will he want to meet us all? Jesus, can they get a room?" she groaned, observing you and Tommy kissing at the bar. His hands holding your waist, as he whispered in your ear, making you laugh.

"It's nice to see your brother happy and relaxed, so leave him," Polly warned, sucking on a vape. Uncaring she was inside, no one would tell her to stop.

"Duke... time will tell. Give him space, that was my advice, he will come out of the woodwork. They always do,"

Drying your hands under the hand dryer, you pulled open the heavy toilet door. Finding Michael standing outside, snorting cocaine from his hand. Throwing his head back, he dragged his hand across his hair. Before looking at you.

"Want some?" he grinned darkly, taking a step closer.

Something about his demeanour, was making you nervous. He was on edge, definitely wired from the drugs. Pupils wide, slightly swaying. You didn't like being alone with him, and the toilets were upstairs. You could see Tommy beneath, chatting to Arthur.

"No thanks," you replied. Slowly pushing past him, when he refused to move rooted to the spot.

Pouring more cocaine on his hand, he grabbed your bicep. "Why not, ey? Too innocent? Too prim and fucking proper," He snarled. "Y/n would never do anything sooo bad, it will loosen you up,"

"No thanks, I don't do it, now let me past please," you tried again, releasing your arm from his grip.

Laughing he grabbed you again, holding his hand near your face. "Just try it, you will love it,"

As you pushed against him, he moved his hand. Causing the product to spill all over your chest, and the front of your dress. Michael started laughing hysterically, loud enough for people to hear.

Tommy looked up, able to see you wiping your dress. Looking like you were arguing with Michael.

"Look what you've done," you gasped, "Why can't you take no, for an answer?"

Standing up, he tried to wipe your dress too. White powder everywhere, "What the fuck?" Tommy's voice boomed, marching along the corridor. Pushing Michael's hand away, you knew this looked bad.

"Just sharing a line, weren't we Y/n?" Michael laughed again, taking more powder from his pocket.

"Sharing a fucking line?!" Tommy barked, shoving Michael, "What the fuck, Y/n?"

"You owe me fifty quid for that, Y/n," Michael grinned, furiously wiping his nose.

"Of course I wasn't sharing a line, he dropped it all over me," you fumed, patting tissue across your dress. You had never touched a drug in your life.

"Oh yeah, I dropped it," Michael winked, making inverted commas with his fingers, staggering back along the staircase.

Tommy stayed silent, just looking at you. You and Michael? Was there something there? Had you been doing what he said? He had dabbled himself in the past, but he knew you were against it.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you snapped, taking your small mirror to check your reflection. "Don't say you believe him over me! He practically threw it all over me,"

"No, no course I fucking don't," he answered, reaching for your hand. "Ignore him, I will deal with Michael, come on, you okay, ey?"

Nodding, you followed him back downstairs. Michael winking at you, as you walked past. Did he have some sort of vendetta against you? Trying to destroy your life, and make you miserable?

Always with his comments, it was honestly grinding on you.

Back home, you soon fell into bed together. "Yeah, you look so good riding me like that," Tommy praised, once you were back home.

"Fuck, keep going,"

Holding your hips, he closed his eyes letting himself enjoy the moment. He loved you riding him cowgirl.

But, Michael popped into his head, rubbing his hands across your dress.

The look on his face, as he was doing it. He was starting to imagine Michael, pushing you against the wall. Lifting up your dress and fucking you.

Would you like that?

Would you be screaming his name?

Keeping your hips still, you arched your back. Then began to roll your hips in circles, on top of Tommy. It had been a week since you had sex, because you had your period.

"So deep inside of me, Tommy," you gasped, holding onto his strong thighs. Nails dragging along his skin.

When he didn't answer, you turned your head. He had gone quiet, too quiet.

"What's wrong?"

Shaking his head, he zoned back into the moment. "Nothing, sorry, just busy in my head,"

Flipping you over, he pulled your hips flush against his.

“In your head?" you asked, gasping when he ploughed back inside of you. Breasts heaving up and down, Tommy planting kisses along your ankle. Hooking your legs around his shoulders.

"S'ok," he breathed out, stroking along your cheek. God, he was becoming paranoid.

"You want me to make you cum again, baby girl?" Rolling his hips into yours, he thrust in and out hard. Bending to nibble your pert nipple, rubbing your other nipple between his fingers, watching you come undone....

Tommy had another nightmare that night, luckily he managed to wake himself up. He hadn't disturbed you, giving up on sleep he checked the time. 3.40am.. fuck it. Slipping from the bed, he sat on the sofa with his laptop.

Opening Instagram, he typed Duke's name. Scrolling through his pictures. He wasn't very good on social media, but he could do the basics.

Clicking on the arrow, he typed out a message.

"Duke...."

Fuck what should he say?

"I am here if you want to meet up, or talk? Dad," Dad? Could he even say that? Deleting Dad... he re-typed, "Tommy,"

Hoping he would get a reply.

Note- Hmm what do we think of Michael? And will Duke reply?

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#thomas shelby #liv's writing #peaky blinders #garrison girl #blind date

[forgottenpeakywriter]

#cillian murphy #scrapbook wallpaper #wallpaper #irishbeauty #irish man

[forgottenpeakywriter]

#cillian murphy #blue #blue jean #scrapbook wallpaper #walllpaper #photo edit #cilly #irish man #irish

[forgottenpeakywriter]

Cia I adore this gif you sent! (Thank you for the inspiration!!) I immediately got the idea but other stories came to my mind first 🤭

Still loving you

Robert Fischer x reader (and it’s also part of my grandma tribute) ♥️✨

Word count: 3,246

Robert waited next to the carrousel, there had been trouble with the system and people had to wait in order to pass with a custom. He just hoped this would be solved quickly because he had a meeting in…

That laugh and that voice only belonged to someone. Turning around he stopped looking at the screen on his phone.

No.

This couldn’t be happening.

¿Y/N?

Robert felt his body froze, his heart rate increased and memories came back and hit him like an avalanche. After all these years.

Flashback:

Y/N felt her knees go weak the moment she saw Rob stepping down his vehicle. Dressed in an immaculate suit with a silky black tie and that effortlessly hairstyle that suited him so well, his face seemed to be made by a Greek God.

It was odd that he asked about her appointment at the salon, perhaps he’d send his driver to pick her up for the gala…

She tried to grab his face to give him a welcome kiss, but Robert stopped her, giving Y/N an emotionless stare. She soon was aware of his cold reaction.

“What’s wrong?”

Robert shifted his weight from one foot to another uncomfortably.

“I’m going to the United States.”

Y/N blinked confused by his statement.

“What? When?”

He wanted to reach out and touch her, but instead he decided to hide his hands inside his pockets. “Tomorrow night, it’s all settled.”

“But.. but I thought you’d be starting on the September course.”

“No, I enrolled in the summer program.”

“Okay, I could cancel my Venice holiday and meet you there then…” Y/N proposed, thinking of some way to make it work.

They had just graduated and she was hoping they’d take the next step in their relationship soon, so moving in while he focused on his master degree in a foreign country sounded promising.

“I could start hunting apartments right away, are you staying in a hotel meanwhile babe?” She smiled again, thinking it could be good he took the lead and moved there first, so he could explore the area and find potential places. “But first I’d need to fly there, do you think your Dad would still let me use his private plane? He had said before anytime, but since you’ll be there…”

“Y/N…” the way he said her name, made her look at him. But she didn’t like what she found in his eyes. “This is why I needed to see you. I’m going away for a couple of years, we’ve to end this. Right here, before I go.”

And she couldn’t hear anything else he said, because her ears were buzzing, she felt like she was underwater and that someone was stealing the air from her lungs.

“But I could fly over and be there, lots of people have a long distance relationship nowadays.”

“Don’t make this more difficult.” He begged, making an effort to keep his emotions at bay.

“You can’t be serious.” Y/N blinked nervously, trying to find for a sign in Robert’s face that this was a bad joke.

She waited a few minutes, eagerly to hear him ask her to come with him, that he was only messing with her, he was always joking.

But when he didn’t back off, she swallowed hard.

“Really? You can’t even tell me a valid reason to break up with me?” Tears would start falling any minute now.

“You know I’m going to start my master degree overseas. It’s for the best.” Robert tried to excuse his sudden decision.

“The best?”

She barely had time to process the sudden news. How long had he been planning this?

Anger took over her, pinching the bridge of her nose, she tried to control her emotions. “You know what? Do whatever the fuck you want Robert! Go and study your goddamn master, I hate you!”

Taking her purse, Y/N rushed, needed to get to her car as fast as she could. She had dreamed Robert would ask her to go with him to the United States, to live together and then, get married. But instead he broke her heart? He was he love of her life, they had plans together for the future, they were good… or at least she thought so, now realizing how selfish he really was.

Tears ran free down her face and she cursed in frustration now realizing how selfish he really was. The son of a bitch, he didn’t care about anyone else but himself.

Y/N never saw the way he broke into a crying mess. Feeling guilt eat him alive for causing her such pain. But he was suffering as much as her or probably even more, she had been his rock, his safe place to hide, he could be real and honest with Y/N. But now, not only she was gone, but that part of him as well.

Robert kept his head down during the entire ride to the charity event his family was hosting, thankfully his driver kept quiet. Images of Y/N giving him a look full of sadness and disappointment for breaking up with her filled his mind, he hoped the image would stop haunting him at some point. He didn’t want that to happen, but he was convinced if he focused solely on his studies, he’d make his father proud.

They were still young, he wanted to prove he was worth of the Fischer company and he needed to work hard to achieve that.

Putting on an emotionless expression, he took a few shaky breaths to mask the fact that he was dealing with a broken heart.

Walking past the directors and board members of the company, he shook some hands, everybody was expecting a lot of things from him, he had a very important place to fill in…

“Darling, over here!” His grandmother’s voice caught his attention among the people. “Where’s Y/N?” She turned her face around, searching for her.

“She isn’t here grandma.”

His maternal grandmother gave him an expectant look.

“Why not? She was so excited yesterday.”

“I just broke up with her.” He explained uncomfortably, his jaw clenching.

His grandmother couldn’t believe his words, Y/N was the most charming girl she had ever met, she had Robert drooling over her, her family was respectable, she was well educated, smart, funny, beautiful, everything anyone would kill to be.

“I need to focus on my maste-”

But his grandma was already shaking her head and giving him a disapproving glance.

“This is the worst decision you’ve ever made. And you will regret it for the rest of your life.”

(End of flashback)

And his grandmother was right, he did regretted it every single day. He finished his master and started working for his father’s company, he had made his family’s wealth bigger than he ever imagined.

But none of that really mattered, because he let true love slip away from him that night.

And now she was standing a few steps away from him. And she was still the most beautiful girl in the room.

“Why is that man staring at you?”

Zoe whispered at her friend confused. Was he even blinking?

Y/N frowned and turning her face around, she found the man that broke her heart years ago.

The world stopped spinning for an instant and the air escaped her lungs. She could practically feel her blood running out of her body.

All the memories flashing back at her, as if it was a movie scene. His cold words playing over and over in her mind.

No, time doesn't heal anything. It’s just a way to disguise the pain people say to cover an uncomfortable silence.

And she knew it still hurt like the first day because even after all these years, she still cared about him.

Robert managed to leave his initial shock behind, and he finally started moving towards her.

What should he say? Should he greet her with a kiss on the cheek or keep his distance?

The heaviness in his heart grew as he saw Y/N blinking, looking from side to side as if trying to find a way to avoid him.

“Y/N.” Her name on his lips seemed to burn.

She could feel her friends whispering in shock, they must’ve realized by now who he was because they knew the story.

How are you supposed to react in moments like these? Say it’s lovely to see you! No, because it wasn’t.

Could this be their chance to talk about what happened? He wondered if she had someone in her life. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came up.

“Robert.” She raised her eyebrows, but other than that, he didn’t get much. Except she folded her arms in front of her chest, in a protective reaction. “All right, let’s go.” She stammered to the girls, wanting to go as fast as she could.

“There’s a problem with the car rental, they canceled.” Zoe announced and threw a subtle glance in Robert’s direction, he was still standing there, looking at Y/N.

He noticed Y/N wasn’t wearing a wedding band on her left hand, she was carrying a book in her bag.

“We’ll get an Uber then.” Y/N proposed trying to make her friends start walking.

“It’s extra expensive right now, it’s rush hour.”

“I’ve a driver waiting for me.” Offered Robert. “I could take you anywhere.”

A heavy silence fell upon them, you could hear a pin drop. Zoe and Lisa looked at each other, not fully believing what was happening. Then, they looked at Y/N.

“This isn’t a good idea.” She admitted in a low voice, avoiding his eyes.

“Hey c’omon we won’t be able to make it on time with this traffic.” Lisa pointed out.

Zoe gave Robert a suspicious look.

Whatever was crossing his mind, his ego dropped to the floor, he had been waiting for this moment all his life.

“I think a ride won’t hurt nobody, right?”

Before Y/N could protest, Lisa practically jumped on Robert, not wanting to give Y/N time to react. “I hope you’ve enough space in that vehicle because we overpacked.” And she grabbed him by the arm as if they were long time friends. “I’m Lisa.”

“I think I’m going to throw up.” Y/N grabbed Zoe’s hand for reassurance.

“Take a deep breath honey, this is not the right time to have a breakdown, you’re stronger than this.”

“Why him? Why now? After all this time…” Y/N’s eyes darted again towards Robert, who was walking several steps ahead with Lisa still hanging from his arm.

“I don’t know, but perhaps you were meant to run into each other, it was just a matter of time.” Zoe gave her friend a sympathetic look. “It still affects you.”

Her friend’s statement made Y/N stop walking.

It did. It still hurt her definitely. But it was only because Robert had been the love of life.

That was the truth, plain and simple, over time she of course started dating another man, but as soon as she realized things were about to get serious or that he would take the next step she decided to end the relationship not wanting to get married to the wrong man.

She wasn’t scared of marriage, she hated the idea of waking up one day and feel disappointed of the choices she made, it didn’t make sense probably for most of the people, but she rather choose to be alone.

Of course she never expected to see Robert again, there were a lot of things left unsaid between them. And all of those years apart didn’t prepare her to face him once more.

She remained quiet on their way towards his vehicle, the internal turmoil taking over with each step she took. And there he was holding the door open for her, giving her the sad and traumatized puppy eyes a pet would use after being scolded.

“I’ll go in the back.” Announced Zoe climbing in while the driver took their luggage.

Lisa gave her friend a curious look. “Can I go in the front? I get car-sick.”

That left Y/N sharing the second row of seats with Robert.

Y/N shook her head slightly while she tried to control her heart drumming like crazy, all their memories flashing her back in time to when they were happy, when they first kissed, when they first made love and of course, when he broke her heart.

A heavy and uncomfortable silence filled inside the vehicle.

Y/N tried to focus her gaze in the sighting they were passing through the busy streets, the man in the bicycle, the three women at the café, the elderly couple with their dog, anything but the man sitting next to her that was subtly looking at her and clearing his throat. She could feel his eyes on her, boring into her soul.

“Where am I driving to Sir?” The driver asked, waiting for instructions.

Lisa gave him Y/N address, she had a small loft in the city and they’d be staying there for the book signing event.

A million thoughts crossed Robert’s mind, he wanted to apologize first. But after all those years? Y/N could hardly stand to be in the same car with him clearly. What could he say? How could he even even begin to justify what he did to her back then? There wasn’t a single valid reason for leaving her the way he did.

And for what? To get his father’s approval? To show the old man that he was worth to be his son?

He lost the best damn thing that could ever happen to him. He lost her over nothing.

But now he was willing to give everything for her.

When they arrived, Y/N thanked the driver, took her bags and mumbled a very lowly thanks to Robert through gritted teeth, then she excused to rush to use the ladies room, leaving Robert standing there in the middle not knowing what to do with a million words to say and a sincere apology trapped in his lips.

Zoe approached him quietly, she had known Y/N for over ten years and given her reaction to the odd encounter, despite all, she knew Y/N still cared about him.

“Can I ask you a question before anything else?”

Robert crossed his arms and gave her a nod.

“Are you single?” That was the most important thing to know first.

“Yes.”

Then, onto the next question. “Call me a witch if you want, I don’t know you… but I know her. Do you still have feelings or something? I know it got messy the last time you talked but...”

Robert allowed himself to let his guard down, the one he had built after losing Y/N. He never let another woman into his heart. His bed? Yes. But not his heart.

“I don’t think it matters, she can hardly stand to look at me for two seconds.” He saw the pain was still there in her eyes.

“She’s going to hate me for doing this but if I can help in any way it’s worth the risk…” Zoe assured him. “I’ve a book signing today at four o’clock, this is the address.” Noticing the confusion in Robert’s eyes, she added; “this isn’t my business but I know the two of you’ve an unfinished business.”

Robert stared at the flyer, wondering what was the right thing to do.

“What if she doesn’t want to see me?”

“Oh it’s going to be hard, trust me.” Zoe then took her best friend side. “And if you hurt her again, I’m going to give you hell for ruining it twice.”

As the girls walked inside the apartment, Robert took his time to process everything, and taking his phone, he called his assistant to clear his schedule for the day, his mind couldn’t stop thinking of the series of events that just happened.

***

Robert took a look at his watch impatiently, then stared out the window of his vehicle and his eyes stopped at the women walking down the street. A grandma with what looked like her granddaughter, strolling with their arms linked, their eyes focused in the articles before their eyes and it made him think immediately of Y/N and her grandmother. How many times did he found them just like that, then they’d drive back into her grandmas house for lunch or dinner, the same with his grandmother.

When everything was simpler and happier. When they were together.

“Mr. Fischer, they are done signing the books.” His driver informed him.

Marcus didn’t ask him anything further, and without intention the man pressed him to make a choice. Walk in the book store and try to apologize to Y/N or drive away and leave behind a small possibility to get her back.

All damn day he kept thinking about her and what they had. How different his life would be if only he didn’t let her go that day.

But guilt was eating him alive, for the damage he caused her.

Did he deserve to be happy for once?

A bald man stepped out of the store, holding the door open and then he saw Zoe and Lisa walking out.

But when he saw Y/N hiding her beautiful eyes behind her sunglasses, he soon realized by just one look that he never stopped loving her.

“Y/N!” It was an impulsive move, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Wait…” he pleaded her, the three girls turned around to face him.

She gave him a confused look, not knowing what her was doing there or how he knew. Would the feeling of being incomplete without Robert would ever go away? Her heartbeat went crazy.

Knowing there was a possibility that Y/N could reject him, Robert cleared his throat and hid his hands inside his pockets. “I owe you a sincere apology, Y/N and I know it won’t take away what I did…” two pairs of curious eyes stared back at him. “I’m really sorry.”

Y/N stood there processing his words unsure of what to do or say. A million thoughts crossing her mind.

“If you want, we could talk? Privately.” He struggled to say the words, not because he didn’t mean it, because he was terrified of getting a negative answer. His next words came out as whisper whilst he looked down. “If you agree of course.”

Time slowed as Y/N took a deep breath, pondering on his words. Had she been waiting all her life for this moment? Was this the closure her heart needed?

She opened her mouth to explain him, she already had plans with her friends, but Zoe gave her a disapproving glance, reading her mind.

“I don’t know what will happen next,” Y/N said cautiously, “but I think a chat it’s a good start.”

“Thank you.”

As soon as she said those words, she felt free, relieved even for carrying the burden for so long. Whilst for Robert, this was the small light at the end of the tunnel.

They both knew it would take a lot of time to rebuild a relationship like they did. But at least this was the first step to try to get back the love they once had.

And without a doubt, he still loved Y/N.

Robert Master list

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#that’s what Cill said #robert fischer x y/n #robert fischer x you #robert fischer fanfic #robert fischer x reader

[forgottenpeakywriter]

Ok so this took a while but it’s a bumper episode to make up for the lateness. Enjoy! 🤍

Quick note for those who maybe haven’t read the main series - I think it’s already obvious here, but in case not, let me be clear: Cill and Mrs M started their relationship when he was still married to Aoife. Does this mean I think cheating is cool? No of course not. But is it a plot device for drama in this fictional world? Fuck yes. You can have thoughts and feelings about the characters but I do not want anyone rocking up in my comments complaining about the affair - you don’t like cheating stories? Don’t read. It really is that simple.

Summary: After her fizz-fuelled heart to heart with Emily, will Mrs M talk to Cillian about what happened with Aoife? And if she does, how will he react..?

Warnings: I’ve already covered it above but expect angst related to dealing with the impact of being the other woman. Cillian being (briefly) a bit of a prick. PTSD and panic attack. Very brief allusion to assault (not by Cill!).

Word count: 3989 PART 10 | SERIES

xi - Saturday 24 February

Y/N was grateful they’d had the foresight to order room service and not try and make it downstairs to the dining room for breakfast that morning. Washing her face whilst she heard Cillian directing where the staff should leave things, she looked at herself in the mirror, thinking Cassie was going to have her work cut out for her today covering her eyebags. Jet lag, plus far too many glasses of fizz the night before (Emily’s fault, she felt), were ganging up to kick her arse.

Hearing the room service staff leaving she came out of hiding, rolling up the sleeves of the fluffy hotel robe to stop it drowning her hands. The scent of freshly brewed coffee sang its siren song to her as she sank into one end of the squashy sofa in their little sitting room.

“Feeling any better yet?” he smiled, handing her the steaming cup, laughing to himself as she inhaled it with the same blissful expression that he was more familiar with from their bedroom.

“I will be.” She took a sip. “Mmmmm…. sweet lifegiver, save me.”

He laughed and passed her a bowl of fruit and yoghurt, sprinkled with granola, the way he knew she liked it.

“Where did you and Em disappear to last night?”

She groaned internally - she was far from functional enough to have this conversation.

“Nowhere, just catching up - girl stuff, you know,” she replied, wincing at how false her attempt at airiness sounded coming out of her mouth. Quickly she dug into her bowl, hoping to stave off having to speak again with a mouthful of melon.

“You were gone for ages…” He frowned a little. “Is everything ok?”

She sighed, chewing as she poked in her dish with her spoon. “I didn’t want to tell you like this, but you leave me no choice.” He looked mildly alarmed and she suppressed a smirk. “I’m afraid we’re lovers.”

He nodded slowly, sipping his tea.

“Sounds about right.”

“I’m sorry.” A mischievous smile played on her face. “Don’t tell John, she’s working up to it.”

He shuffled a little closer, balancing his bowl on his lap as he pushed a curl back behind her ear.

“Seriously though, you’ve been… I dunno, a little quiet maybe?.. since you got here. What’s up?”

She sighed and pushed her food away, wrapping her hands around her coffee for comfort.

“It’s nothing, I’m just knackered. This week has been… a lot. Y’know the whole thing with Finn, and work’s insane, and it’s great having Eoin at the house but it’s odd after being on my own so much.”

She flicked a glance at him to see if he was buying it.

He wasn’t.

“And..?” he prompted. “I mean, yeah obviously that’s a lot and I’m sorry that once again, I’ve left you to deal with it all on your own, but that’s not it, is it..?”

“Cill…it’s nothing, really. Just leave it.” She pushed herself off the sofa to poke at the basket of pastries on the side, selecting a croissant, pulling the pointy end off and popping it in her mouth.

“Why..? We tell each other everything, Y/N.”

She swallowed and avoided his searching eyes.

“Because it’s nothing - I’m just being silly ‘cause I’m tired - and it’ll just piss you off.”

“Yeah ‘cause now I’m definitely not interested,” he deadpanned, setting down his dishes to come towards her. “What happened? Did Eoin do something? I can have a word.”

She pulled out a tuft of the soft fluffy centre from the pastry, its buttery goodness coating her tongue.

“It’s not the kids. And Eoin has actually been great - it’s different, but he’s being actually helpful and stuff.” She went to eat another tuft and he stopped her, his hand on her wrist.

“So just tell me.”

She looked up at him and set down the croissant with a quiet sigh.

“Look, you have to promise not to overreact.”

“I won’t!” He held up his hands.

Unconvinced, but seeing no way round it, she took a deep breath.

“It really is nothing, I just let something Aoife said get to me. Because I’m so tired and I miss you and..” She shrugged, avoiding his eyes.

“Aoife..?”

The sharpness in his voice made her look up, seeing his jaw jumping against his cheek. Oh yeah, definitely not already overreacting.

“Cill, I swear - it’s me, not her. She probably didn’t mean anything by it, and I took it the wrong way.”

“Tell me what she said.”

“Cill..”

“Just fucking tell me,” he snapped, taking a deep breath and reaching for her immediately. “Sorry.”

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Please.. just tell me.”

“Fuck..” she sighed. “Fine. It was the night Eoin moved out and I was dropping Finn home. Before I left, she said she could tell I was doing a lot of stuff on my own at the moment. And then..” She raked a hand through her hair. “And then she told me to be careful.”

His face darkened.

“But look, it probably wasn’t maliciously intended. And even if it was, you said it yourself just last weekend that you could see some of the warning signs. I just let her get to me when I shouldn’t—”

“That’s not what she meant though,” he interrupted, his dangerously low voice making her shiver, and not in the good way it usually did.

“Cill—”

“She meant, be careful because he’s probably fucking someone else.”

Y/N shut her mouth. There was no good reply to that. Because that was exactly what she’d meant and they both knew it.

“Is that what you think? That I’d do something like that to you?” The jumping of his jaw against his cheek intensified.

“No! Of course I don’t.”

He looked unconvinced and she closed the gap between them, clasping his chin between her fingers to make him look at her.

“Cillian. Stop it. You know I don’t think that. God knows, it’s not like I haven’t had my wobbles over the years but that’s always been me being insecure about me, and not because I have ever thought you’d do something like that to me.”

“So what then? What did she get in your head about??”

She let go of his face, fingers lacing into her hair again, trying to find the right words. “Just all the stuff we’ve already been over last week. And not because we didn’t fix it but just because it’s hard being apart and it’s all a bit shit for us both at the moment.” She sighed. “She just caught me in a vulnerable moment, that’s all.”

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, gently pulling her against him.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed, resting her head against his chest again. “I know I shouldn’t let her get to me.”

He frowned, running a hand over her hair. “She shouldn’t have fucking said that to you.”

“I’m not sure she meant any harm.”

He scoffed loudly, pulling back and holding her at arm’s length. “Like fuck she didn’t. You are far too fucking trusting, Y/N. You always want to see good in people and normally that’s one of your best qualities, but can’t you see she’s doing it deliberately to hurt you?”

“I’m not sure that’s fair…”

“Y/N,” he exclaimed, exasperated. “She’s been doing it for years. When it comes to you, she doesn’t have good intentions. When are you going to learn that??”

She shook herself free of his hold. “Don’t you think she has a right to?? You’re so hard on her Cill, it’s like you forget that you are the one who had an affair. You are the one who left her for another woman. Another woman that she now has to share her life and kids with. Of course I prefer it when things are civil but why does she have to be nice to me? I’m not sure I would be if I was in her shoes. You need to give her a fucking break.”

His face closed in, anger flashing in his eyes.

“Cill—”

There was a knock at the door of their suite and without looking at her, he brushed past to open it.

“Morning campers! Are we ready to be beautiful and win awards?” beamed Gareth, only belatedly sensing the frosty atmosphere.

“I just need to get a shower, I’ll be fifteen minutes,” Y/N mumbled, trying to catch her husband’s eye but he was studiously ignoring her.

“No worries, gorgeous. Take your time.” His eyes flicked between the couple; he’d never seen them be anything other than disgustingly in love and the tension in the room was unsettling.

“Actually, will you give us a minute?” asked Cillian quietly, finally looking at her.

“Of course. Just text me when you’re ready, boss.”

Leaving his gear, Gareth slipped out of the room with a final glance between them.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it like that,” she began, twisting the thick tie of her dressing gown around her hands.

“When are you going to stop letting her punish you for what I did?” he asked quietly. “It’s been ten years Y/N, and you’re still letting her kick the shit out of you.”

“What we did,” she corrected him. “And what, you think just ‘cause it’s been a long time she should get over it and be nice to me??”

“Do you know what I think?” he snapped, taking several steps towards her, eyes like ice, the darkness in his expression making her shrink back towards the wall. “I think you don’t want her to stop punishing you. I think you prefer it this way - because if you let her keep beating you with your own guilt, you think it will absolve you of the crime of fucking her husband.”

He saw his words hit her like a slap, her eyes widening, water glistening in her lashline. But he was too frustrated to stop himself.

“Well let me tell you something - it won’t. You can let her punish you all you like, but it is never going to wash away what we did.”

He took another step forward, practically looming over her now, her back against the wall, his jaw jumping against his cheek.

“And I’m sick of it, Y/N. What we did was wrong but it was a long fucking time ago. When are you going to stop apologising for being married to me?? Like you’re fucking ashamed of it!”

Her eyes dropped, distracted by the movement of his fingers flexing at his sides. Unconsciously they balled into fists.

She flinched.

“Hey, shit, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Remorse flooded through him and he immediately held out his hands to her. But she shied away, eyes squeezed tightly closed, a tiny whimper in the back of her throat.

If you make another fucking sound, I’ll kill you

Panic clawed its way through her. The old threats rose from where she had buried them long ago, so loud that they filled her ears and she could almost feel his breath on her face, anticipating the punch that would leave her gasping and winded. And then hands… hands where she didn’t want them…

“Y/N… Y/N…”

Through the fog, Cillian’s voice echoed towards her and she grabbed it like a lifeline.

“Baby, come back to me…”

Blinking, she was surprised to find herself on the floor, apparently having slid down the wall, knees hugged to her chest, whole body trembling. Cillian was on his knees in front of her, gently stroking her face and hair, drawing her back to herself. With a start she pulled herself away from his touch, slapping his hands away, her heart smashing against her ribs at an alarming rate, breath coming in sharp gasps.

“It’s ok, it’s ok, it’s just me,” he murmured, mortification burning through his veins. She’d thought he was going to hit her. His own wife. The woman - the person, who aside from his kids - he loved the most in all the world.

“Breathe with me, yeah? Deep breath in..”

He slowly went through the old routine, learned from the times she had the nightmares of what happened all those years ago. Slowly in and hold. Slow exhale. Make her focus on his face, hear his voice.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know…” she mumbled, feeling disoriented. The image of his fists by his sides flashed across her vision and she swallowed.

“No, I’m sorry. It was me, fuck.. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” He bowed his head, squeezing her hands in his, the sharp press of her engagement ring biting into his palm. “I’m sorry.”

Untangling her hands from his, she reached for him, letting him pull her against his chest, awkwardly shifting to sit beside her so he could hold her more comfortably.

“You know I would never, ever hurt you, don’t you..?”

She nodded against him, fingers curling into the soft cotton of his tshirt, his solid warmth slowly erasing the last of her shivers, the smell of him wrapping itself around her like a safety blanket.

“Sorry, that hasn’t happened in years, it came out of nowhere,” she apologised against his shirt and he gently eased her up so she was looking at him.

“No, don’t do that. Don’t you apologise. It was my fault. I was out of order.” He cupped her head, thumb tracing her cheekbone, swiping away the remains of her tears. “I just hate seeing you still holding so much guilt over something that happened such a long time ago.”

She looked away, curling back into herself. “It doesn’t matter how long ago it was…”

“Look at me.” He waited until eventually she did, her big eyes filmed with tears.

“I’m not saying we should be blasé about it - it was a shitty thing. But fuck, Y/N, we’ve been together almost as long as I was married to Eef.” He pushed a curl back behind her ear. “Soon, we’ll have been together longer than I was ever with her. And as much as I’m ashamed of myself for my behaviour back then, I don’t regret choosing to be fucking happy with the woman I love.”

He took a breath, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.

“It hurts me to see you carrying it around still. Constantly apologising for choosing happiness. For choosing me. You let her treat you like shit - like she can say whatever she wants to you - because you think you deserve it. And you don’t.”

“I do,” she whispered hoarsely, resting her head against his shoulder. “I stole everything from her. You. This life.”

“No. You didn’t.” He held her tighter. “Like I’ve told you before, you didn’t steal anything - I gave it to you with my own free will, because I love you. Please, sweetheart, you have to stop hurting yourself over it.”

Slowly she shifted so she could lift her tearstained face to his.

“I don’t know how she does it.”

The little lines between his brows appeared as he frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Living without you. It would kill me. The thought of you with someone else. Loving someone else...”

“That’s never—”

“And that’s why I feel guilty. Because the very idea of living like that makes me sick to my stomach and yet she has to. And even though I doubt she’s still in love with you now and not moved on…but if it was me…” She shook her head, fingertips running over his cheek and down to trace his lips.

“I’m not sorry I met you again, I’m not sorry that I fell in love. Part of me isn’t even sorry for how it started because I wanted you so badly.” Warmth flooded to her cheeks with the admission.

“But I don’t know how to forgive myself for what I took from her. Because you might have given it freely, but she didn’t part with you willingly. And I know she looks at our life and hates me for it.”

“You can’t change how she feels,” he said quietly after a moment. “And frankly, I spent almost fifteen years with her and believe me, few people can hold a grudge like Aoife Carmichael. She’s never going to forgive you - or me - for what we did. And you’re right, who says that she should. But if that’s what part of you is holding on for, you need to stop. So what if she hates you? Do you need her to like you? To tell you she forgives you?”

She sat up properly and wiped her face, processing his words.

“I realised something recently,” he continued, “you can choose to feel guilty forever and let it eat you alive - or in your case, let her hurt you with that. Or, you can choose to accept that what we did was wrong, but it’s done now and we can’t change it. We have a good, strong marriage - we’re a team and we deal with our problems together, and we’re good parents. Or at least, we do the best we can. And to be honest, even though maybe I’d do some things differently, I wouldn’t take back what got us here, because I love you so much.”

She pondered this in silence, chewing her lip.

“You can’t change how she feels about it, Y/N, but that doesn’t mean you have to take it and let her get to you. You can’t stop her being angry and lashing out - which is exactly what that was by the way, she knows exactly how to kick you where it hurts. The only thing you control is how you respond to it.”

She nodded slowly, silence stretching between them as she thought about what he said.

“I never meant to make you feel like I was ashamed of being with you,” she said quietly, spinning her rings around her finger. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“I know you don’t, and I shouldn’t have said it like that.” She looked up, meeting his eye and shuffling closer to put her arms around his neck. “But you have a choice that only you can make.”

She nodded slowly, before leaning up to kiss him softly.

“I love you,” she mumbled against his mouth as he kissed her back, holding her tight against him.

“I love you too,” he replied as they broke apart. Cupping her face, he looked at her seriously. “You promise me that you know I would never hurt you? I can’t believe I frightened you like that. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok,” she soothed, leaning in to kiss him again. “I know you never would. I think it was the situation - back against the wall etc - not you. I’m actually kind of mortified, I haven’t had an attack like that in years.” She huffed out a dry chuckle, cheeks warming again. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He gathered her so her legs were across his lap, holding her close.

“Are we ok?”

She tilted her head up to look at him, running her finger around the collar of his tshirt, and gave him a little nod. “Yeah. You’re right - objectively I know you are. I just.. I need some time to think about what you said.”

He leaned down to kiss her, a large hand cradling the back of her head.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She smoothed her thumb over his cheek, booping his nose with her finger. “But we’re going to be really fucking late if we don’t let Gareth back in soon. And I came all this way to watch you win another trophy, so we should probably get on with that.”

He blushed pink behind his freckles. “It’s not a given.”

She tapped his chin, making him look at her.

“Yes it fucking is,” she smiled, pecking his lips before scrambling in a slightly undignified way to her feet, holding out her hands to him. “I made a bet with Downey that you would win, so you better had.”

“Wait.. what?” He grabbed her hands, pulling himself up to his feet.

“Yeah, fifty bucks, so you better be good for it,” she grinned, heading for the bathroom and her long overdue shower.

“No, you mean he’s betting against me…??”

She paused at the door. “What was it you said earlier - we can’t control what others do, only our reaction to it..?”

“Yeah that doesn’t apply here,” he grumbled darkly. “He’s a deadman.”

*****

The pop of the flash photography still dazzling her, Y/N allowed herself to be pulled into a hug by Emily as she and Cillian finally got to the Oppenhomies table, her husband immediately drifting off to chat to jokingly (or possibly not) remonstrate with Robert about making bets against him.

“Everything ok?” asked Emily, under the hum of the room, kissing her cheek.

Y/N nodded quickly. “Yeah, we talked. It was… well it was fine in the end.” She puffed out a sigh. “You were right - I need to let it go. Rise above.”

She smiled, hoping it looked convincing. It was one thing to know she had the choice to finally make her peace with her share of the blame and move on, but quite another to actually do it.

Cillian caught her eye across the table and smiled. It was such a small gesture - warmth in his eyes that was just for her - but it made her stomach flip.

Settling down at the table as tv crew milled around getting ready for the main broadcast, he slipped an arm around her shoulders.

“Have I told you yet how beautiful you look tonight,” he murmured, nose bumping hers. “I love you.”

“You might have mentioned it once or twice,” she giggled, threading her fingers through his free hand, placing a delicate kiss on his lips, safe in the knowledge that her choice of lip colour was less dangerous that night than previous occasions.

“I love you, too.”

The sparkling evening wended its way eventually to the final set of categories, and at last it was his turn.

“And the Actor goes to…”

She held her breath, squeezing his thigh beneath the table (out of shot of the cameras), bursting with pride when once again his name was called. Immediately she was out of her seat and tight in his arms, and he held her for a long second before he accepted the hugs and handshakes of others and made his way to the stage.

“Shit…” she heard Robert mutter with a poor attempt at disappointment, the effort ruined by his delighted grin.

She beamed at him, rubbing her fingers together. “You better be good for it Downey. I know where you live.”

His speech was - as was common now - endearingly awkward. But she knew how much it meant for him to be recognised like this, by his peers, and his words made her tear up a little. Beside her, Emily leaned forward to wrap her arms around her shoulders and give her a squeeze.

“Chris Nolan and Emma Thomas, as always, such a debt of gratitude to you.”

From the stage, his eyes found hers, and again he gave a small smile, meant just for her.

“To my amazing wife, Y/N, and my boys, Eoin and Finn back home, I adore you. I can’t do any of this without you.”

He carried on with the final part of his speech, a heartfelt moment of belonging, but she hardly heard it. She knew that she didn’t regret her life choices for a single minute. All of them were worth it to be able to spend her life with him, loving and being loved by him.

She knew she would make the same decisions in every lifetime if she had to.

Even the bad ones.

Sorry for the angst - it just took a dark turn when I was writing and here we are 🙈 As always, I live for your reactions so come at me in all the usual ways 🤍

If you want to know what happened to Mrs M to cause her little flashback/ptsd moment, catch up on the third of their Three Chance Encounters in the masterlist below 👇🏼

Masterlists: CILLIAN | LOCKDOWN | MAIN

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#alex writes #the lockdown sessions #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x oc

[forgottenpeakywriter]

In This Together

Ongoing Series Part 125 - More here

Pairing - Thomas Shelby and Reader

Thank you for all of the support, on this Fic. Please interact and let me know your thoughts. x

Tommy left the house, in a fit of anger that morning. Nothing unusual there. You were sick, of his temper tantrums. It was like having two Charlie's. If something didn't go Tommy's way, the whole world knew about it.

You carried on with your day, leaving the children with the maids. After a morning at home, you went into town with Ada. Shopping for a dress for the charity event. Still reeling from the events of the day before. How he had spoken to you, in front of the family.

You were meant to be his wife, part of a team.

Five drinks you had consumed, within an hour. Encouraging Ada to catch up, The Garrison was your pub of choice. Only because Ada thought it was safer. Just like old times.

Although, you were trying to prove a point to Tommy. You missed your children. Hoping Ruby would settle without you. She had fed well today, and you had expressed some milk for her.

Draining your glass again, you slammed it onto the table. Attracting attention of the other customers. "I mean what would you do? Just roll over and do everything he says? He treats me... like ....like a child," you hiccupped, speaking to Ada.

"Running around town, after the bloody Russians. That tart came to ... my house, you know Ada?" you vented. "Sitting there like she owned the bloody place,"

"Shh... not in here," she chastised, moving the glass away from you.

"Is he fucking her? Do you think he is?" you pleaded to know. Pulling yourself up straight, staring her in the eyes.

"Would you tell me?"

"No one is fucking anyone." she answered, she truly didn't know anything about the Russian business. "Right, come on you, no more, Tom will have my guts," Ada tried, picking up your handbag and coat for you.

The men keeping watch over you, also standing up. Of course you were followed, he couldn't resist. You had to be safe, looked after. Shame he couldn't look after you himself, you thought bitterly.

"No Ada," you whined, "Don't make me go home, I might be grounded again," you howled laughing.

Tommy's men approaching you, helping you to stand up. When was the last time you had been drunk? Probably before Charlie, you couldn't handle it now.

You soon fell asleep on the way home, escorted by his men. “Mrs Shelby, you are home," he tried. "Mrs Shelby, please wake up?"

Before you could answer, Tommy was out of the house. Finding you curled up on the back seat.

“For fucks sake," he muttered. Scooping you out, thanking his men. He carried you into the house. They quickly followed with your shopping bags.

"Put me down," you mumbled, opening one eye to see Tommy staring at you. "Oh no, you found me," you giggled.

He looked thoroughly embarrassed, in front of his men. Laying you on the sofa, he went to speak to them.

When he returned, you were sat upright, his glass of whiskey in your hand. "The fucking state of you," he snapped, taking the glass from you.

Sticking your tongue out, you laughed again. "I'm so sorry officer, don't tell my husband, please. He will be so mad,”

"Mummy!" you heard from the doorway, little Charlie running at you. "Me miss you, Mummy,"

Climbing on your knee, he snuggled into you. "Bed Charlie, I thought you were asleep," Tommy huffed, crouching to his knees in front of you both. Running his hand through Charlie's hair.

“I’ve missed you too, baby boy,” you smiled at Charlie, snuggling in to his neck.

“Daddy read me story,” he beamed up at you. “We played,”

“Four bloody stories,” Tommy stated, pretending to be cross. He had enjoyed, spending the time with his children. It was the first time, he had spent a block of time with them on his own. The parent guilt was racing through him.

“Climb on, back to bed,” he told Charlie, bending to let him climb on his back. Kissing Charlie, you curled back up on the sofa. When you opened your eyes again, Frances stood before you with Ruby.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Shelby, but she's hungry," Taking Ruby, you thanked her beginning to feed your daughter. Dismissing Frances to bed, you sat in silence.

It was twenty minutes before Tommy returned. Ruby now settled against your chest, sleeping soundly.

“Thought you’d gone to bed,” you spoke up, breaking the awkward silence. Waiting for the inevitable lecture.

“Was laying with Charles,” he answered, pouring a drink from the decanter. The glass stopper clicking, as he replaced it. “Begging me for another story, he was,” Tommy added, letting out a loud sigh as he sat bedside you.

Reaching across, he ran his finger across Ruby’s nose.

“You mad at me?” You asked, now having sobered up. “Just give me the lecture now, not in the morning,”

A wry smile appeared on his full lips, “No, I’m not mad. You deserve a break, this is what it’s all about, ey?” he asked, nodding at Ruby, “Just us and the kids, the other shit, doesn’t matter….not really,"

Unsure how to answer, you waited for him to speak again. Slapping his leg, he stood, “Come, let’s get to bed.”

Laying in his arms all night, you felt secure. No matter what happened in your life, you always had each other. Always found your way back to each other, despite the arguments. He was yours and you were his.

Patting Ruby’s back, you held her against your shoulder as you burped her. It was just starting to get light. You loved watching the sunrise, over your grand estate. Feeling like a princess in her castle.

Ruby pulled her knees up, beginning to grizzle. She’d been struggling with her wind.

Hearing Tommy turn over, you gazed over your shoulder. Softly bouncing her. "Come and watch the sun, Tommy," you whispered, watching him intensely.

"I have the perfect view here, my beautiful wife and daughter." he croaked out, voice hoarse from smoking. "You know that nightie is see through?"

Kissing Ruby's head, you noticed she had fallen back asleep.

“You did buy it for me, Tommy," Gently shushing Ruby, you placed her in her crib. Climbing back into bed, you let out a deep sigh. Would the night feeds ever end? When was the last time you had a decent sleep?

"And you know why that was?" he asked, reaching for your hand.

"Hmm?" you mumbled, closing your eyes hoping for some more sleep. Running your hand across his body, he slipped it inside of his pants. His erection standing proudly.

"Because this happens, my love," he chuckled, rolling onto his side. Encouraging you to palm his cock.

"I'm asleep," you groaned, not having the energy for sex after a restless night.

"Ok, turn over, we will hug," Tommy ordered, grinning to himself.

He knew just what to say to you. Letting him spoon you, you snuggled down beneath the covers. Tommy's hand across your breast, thumb lightly brushing over your nipple through the thin material.

"Your body against mine, laying next to me all night." he whispered in your ear, gently nibbling your earlobe.

His hot breath drifting across your skin. "The little moans coming from your mouth, that's all I could think of last night. You screaming my name,"

His right hand travelled to your ass, slipping between your thighs. "Tut, tut, you shouldn't be getting wet baby. You should be sleeping,"

"I am," you gasped out, as he tweaked your nipple, slipping his index finger in between your juicy folds. Already his words had turned you on.

Giving up on sleep, you turned over, giving in to temptation.

Tommy was late home that night. The children already in bed. You had called his office looking for him, called The Garrison, called Polly. No one knew where he was. Who he was with. You were becoming paranoid.

He wasn't with another woman was he? Surely he was just working?

"Not hungry, Mrs Shelby?" you heard, looking up from your desk. Four hours you had been sitting here, writing invitations out for the charity ball. Mary stood before you, wearing a frown.

"Hungry? Oh no, sorry, I was too engrossed in this, Mary," you replied, your food sat in front of you, now cold.

"Mr Shelby is home," she informed you, picking up the dishes. "Thought you would like to know," You picked up on her sympathetic tone.

Pushing your chair away from the desk, you skipped through the house. Eventually finding him in his office. Still wearing his coat and hat, closing the safe.

What was he up to?

"Tommy," you spoke up, making him jump. Noticing him tuck something away in his pocket. Letting him guide you to the sofa, you sat with him. "I was worried about you, I called your office,"

Taking his hat off, he took hold of your chin. "Don't worry about me, ey. Let me do the worrying. How was your day?"

Settling against him, you stretched your legs across his. "My writing hand is almost falling off. That's all the invitations done, for the charity event,"

"Hmm," he answered, seeming distant.

"Shall I ask you if you had a successful day, like a good wife?" you cooed at him, lips meeting his. Stroking your fingers, through his shaved sides.

You could see the stress on his face, wondering what had him worried this time.

"Nope," he answered, stroking your cheek with his knuckle. "See ... personally I measure success with Sapphires," he winked, reaching onto his pocket. "Close your eyes,"

You felt your heart begin to race, "Go on, close your eyes," he encouraged with a grin. "Open them,"

When you opened your eyes, you let out an audible gasp. The biggest jewel you had ever seen, dangling in front of you.

“Tommy, where the hell did you get that?"

"Better you don't know," he answered, fastening it around your neck. "A Sapphire for my queen,"

Reaching up to touch it, you failed to tell him you already knew about it. Knew where it had came from, Tatiana had told you. Would this jewel bring trouble?....

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