#sub!neil lewis x reader

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

TAKE YOU DOWN A PEG ─── neil lewis ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I want you. Your bones. Your body heat. The bite marks your teeth leave. To see how bad and beautiful those eyes look beneath me." — Beau Taplin.

pairing. sub!neil lewis x reader

summary. gumshoe video’s got a rude customer who neil can’t seem to ban…

warnings. swearing, voyeurism, unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, semi-public sex, breathplay, oral sex (m), cockwarming, degradation/insults, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 5.3k

a/n. the hardest thing about writing this was scouring letterboxd for obscure films that i think neil would foam over. pls don’t beat me to death if my film references miss the mark 😭

Neil loves his job. Seriously, seriously, he does. It's completely self-satisfying, his personal passion project that’s taken up a large amount of his life, and brings him the uttermost joy of allowing him to do what he does best: recommend films. 

Gumshoe Video is like his fucking baby, and he takes care of it, immensely; he wipes down every tape every Sunday, he sweeps the floor and rearranges the furniture, he organizes the tapes almost constantly, and he does his hardest to provide stellar, passionate - if almost annoying - film advice. He wants the reviews up on this place, alright, otherwise it feels like he’s letting his baby down. 

Now, if there’s one thing Neil hates about his job, just one minor, teensy weensy thing, it’s probably you. You, the rude customer who came in three months ago and has come in everyday since. 

The day you and Neil Lewis met was one just like the rest. Gumshoe Video was promoting old spaghetti westerns; Neil was wearing a cowboy hat and opening deliveries from a video tape shop in Calabasas that had closed down; you were coming off work and were daydreaming, dizzily entering shops to get your mind off the irritatingly mundane job you had. Unlike Neil, you fucking hate your job. 

You had entered Gumshoe, browsing lazily through the Film Noir section, when Neil sprung up like a weed behind you, speaking animatedly about how the best film noir’s had to be Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, or Double Indemnity, and if you’d ever watched them before. 

As Neil blabbered on, your left eyebrow became increasingly raised. Finally having enough of him, you spoke. “So, are you one of those guys that talk all over the girl and ask them if they’ve ever seen Citizen Kane, or if I can even name five Ingmar Bergman movies for you?”

Neil spluttered, flustered with being confronted about his obsessive cinephile talking habit of carrying the conversation away like a track runner in a relay race going off with the baton in the wrong direction. “What? I was just —“

“— name dropping film noir’s, ‘cause I’m some ditzy, uncultured bimbo bitch who mistakenly walked in, right?” You said, rolling your eyes. Later, in retrospect, you’ll wonder if you were too rude; then, you’ll remember you don’t give a fuck, you were having a bad day, and Neil Lewis had one hell of an annoying face. 

Neil’s face grew offended, an irritated furrowed brow wiggling onto his features. “If you don’t want to watch what I recommend, you don’t have to!” he exclaimed, arms up placatingly in the air. 

“Uh huh, okay, and you don’t have to shove your pretentious cinephile knowledge up my ass.”

He just stared at you, boring his bright blue eyes into your own, face contorted so exasperatedly you might as well have climbed up to the stars, plucked the moon from the sky, and used it as a pillow. 

My god, Neil thought. Are you just a rude customer? Or did you get off on berating small businesses like a sadistic freak?

After a moment of you two staring each other down in the fluorescent artificial light of Gumshoe, both looking terribly affronted, you left. 

Neil would then rant about this “insane customer” for at least twelve hours straight to anyone who’d liste. The next day, the distasteful experience was extremely close to thereby fully exiting his mind, but didn’t, because you, yes, you, walked in again. 

You shot straight daggers with your eyes at Neil, but your expression became soft, demure, and gentle when you saw Jonathan manning the register instead. You trailed through the aisles unperturbed, Jonathan too busy sporting a hangover from working the late shift at that obscure speakeasy copycat bar (in which, as often as possible, he would sneak a shot to stay awake) to recommend films. 

In any case, that was Neil’s job, and Jonathan leaned over to whisper in his ear: “Neil, man, do me a favor and please distract that customer -- fuck, this headache’s killing me…”

Neil protested, shaking his head rapidly. “That’s her.”

“Her who?”

“Her! The - customer who -- who yelled at me!” 

Jonathan blinked blearily, clearly still too incapacitated to think about the matter much. “She yelled at you… and she’s back. Here. And why exactly is that…?”

“To yell at me s’more, probably!” Neil whisper-shouted incredulously. 

Suddenly, you broke Neil and Jonathan out of their not-so-quiet argument by slamming down Gumshoe Video’s copies of Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, and Double Indemnity. The irony did not miss Neil - honestly, it was a little on the nose, even for him. 

“Thought I’d see what all the rage was.” you explained “sweetly”, gesturing to Neil as you spoke, indignation seeping through your every word. Your grudge was, well, mostly unexplained, ‘cept for the fact you yourself were an avid cinephile, had watched those three movies more than you could count, and did not take Neil’s “have you watched these before” kindly. 

Thus started you and Neil’s long-winded rivalry slash animosity slash terribly caustic back-and-forth correspondence. 

You keep coming to Gumshoe Video, because, despite your anger towards Neil, you fucking adore the place. The films are downright amazing, the atmosphere is like fucking heaven with the walls lined full of video tapes, decorated in classic film props, campy lifesize cardboard cutouts making you jump at every turn, and Gumshoe Video’s concept is insanely different (and lightyears better) than the corporate monolith that is Media Giant. 

He keeps coming to Gumshoe Video because, again, Neil loves his job, and treats Gumshoe like he carried it for nine months and has been lovingly raising it for the five years it's been open. 

From that first incident, you and Neil’s relationship twisted a little into something like this: you come in, insult him on whatever costume he’s wearing, return the tapes you rented the other night, argue with him for exactly an hour and a half on the couch, insult him for another ten as you browse the store, ignore his film recommendations, and rent three more movies. 

He waits for you to enter, wears the ugliest costume he owns to visually assault you, gladly takes the tapes back, argues with you for 1 and ½ hours, fires back retorts as you insult him, recommends movies he thinks will make you jump out your apartment window, and gives you your movies. 

You’re the minor, teensy weensy headache Neil experiences everyday, but at least, at the very least, Gumshoe makes daily dollars from your rentals - kinda like the payback or relief fund a town gets after a hurricane’s run through it. 

But, (somewhat?) shamefully… there’s a reason Neil doesn’t just ban you from the store and live his life without ever thinking of you again. 

This reason occurred to him a month ago, when he was in the backroom, pasting barcodes and information stickers on tapes that were yet to be placed in the store. You were looking for the washroom, awkwardly stumbling through the back hallway of Gumshoe Video, and since you couldn’t find Neil — he, in spite of the nature of your relationship, trusted you to look around and rent the tapes by yourself, having done it several times while arguing with him at the counter — you had to brave through it alone.

Now, the thing about the room Neil was in — more of a shoe closet than a room, honestly — was that it was locked from the outside, and he didn’t have the key. The key was currently in the hands of one Lucien, who had gone to buy takeout for the two of them because of the late night cataloging of new tapes ahead of them. 

And… he was taking about a hundred years to come back because he was trying to get the cashier’s number at their usual Chinese restaurant. 

Anyway, imagine this: you’re looking for the washroom, and the door to a small room is propped open. You enter, don’t think much of the small stack of empty tape boxes acting as a door stopper, and let it close. The light in there is dim, just a shitty little ceiling light; Neil turns, tapes in his hand; you turn, after closing the door. 

Finally, remember: the room is more of a shoe closet than a room.

“Jesus -- christ!” Neil yelped, startled at your sudden appearance. “What  -- the hell are you doing here?” 

“I take it this isn’t the bathroom?” You murmured, ignoring his question and shifting uncomfortably. Seriously, the tape closet was only meant for one person in it at a time. 

If the lights were brighter, you would’ve seen how hard Neil rolled his eyes; they almost rolled out of his head. “Well, I don’t think so, given the lack of toilet, sink, and light, no.”

“Well, Neil,” you purred, hot breath curling around the sensitive skin of his neck, “maybe, just maybe, you should have a sign for the bathroom, so I don’t have my tits any closer to your face than I want them to.” You said this sweetly, voice husky, low, and oddly sultry, but Neil knew better than that: you probably wanted to fucking kill him right now.

You were right, though; your tits were flush Neil’s bandy chest, the heat between you two growing the longer you were this close in proximity. 

“Now get me out of here,” you said quickly after, ignoring how warm Neil felt against your body. You’d turned so your back faced him, hands twisting at the silver knob of the door - which, Neil honestly didn’t know why was there, considering it didn’t fucking work. 

Neil sighed. “The door locks from the outside.” 

“What?” You said, distracted by leaning down to press your weight against the door like it was just sticky. Moments later, “…What?” you all but shrieked, hands falling from the knob, turning to face him once more. 

And, again, if the lights were brighter you’d have seen Neil’s face better: he was bright fucking red, because, apparently not accounting for the small space of the room, you’d leaned and obliviously had your ass pressed right against him. It didn’t help that his large, warm hands, having long since dropped the tapes he was labeling, hung near the flesh of your rear, having nowhere else to go in the limited space.

Neil thanked the small mercy God graced upon him that there wasn’t any kind of friction, so his soft cock remained just that: soft, and barely noticed by you. 

“The door locks from the outside.” Neil repeated breathlessly, the amount of air in the shoe-box room being incredibly small, too small to share between the two of you. 

“Fucking…” You cursed under your breath, shaking your head in disbelief. “So, what, we have to stay here ‘till someone busts us out? What’re you gonna do if I go batshit and eat you or something?”

“For one, Lucien isn’t going to take that long to come back. Anyway, why’re you assuming you’ll overpower me - what if I go batshit and tear into you?”

You snorted, like the connotation he could overpower you was completely implausible. “Neil, Neil, Neil,” you repeated nonsensically, before lifting a hand up to his shoulder and digging your nails into him, the fabric of his shirt obviously not thick enough to distort your strength. “I could have you pinned down in less than a minute. I do other things than watch movies all day, unlike your lanky ass.”

Neil merely let out a chagrined laugh in response, hands clammy at the thought: you pinning him down— he then shook himself mentally, about to slap himself upside the head. Fucking hell, this situation was doing things to him. 

“You don’t believe me?” You retorted with a raised brow. Swiftly, your hands curled around Neil’s wrists, pinning them behind him and pressing his back against you. “How about now, huh?” you whispered softly in his ear, making his head swim. 

Your chin rested on his shoulder, your nose brushing against his neck, and it took everything in Neil not to let out a breathy keen — this was all too much for him: your touch, your voice, and the apparent dawning on him that he found you terribly, massively, attractive. 

“Fuck, I, er - - um,” Neil scrambled for a response, when the door to the tape closet suddenly opened. Your hands released him immediately, and you strided out, breathing in deeply. 

On the other side stood Lucien, plastic takeout bag in one hand, closet key in the other. “What happened to you?” he asked confusedly, as Neil filed out after you, gaze trained on your stretching figure walking off. 

“We got, uh -- locked, in the- in the tape closet.” Neil murmured, thoughts still fuzzy from your rough touch. 

“With her?” Lucien shuddered, handing Neil the chinese takeout bag sympathetically. “You need this food more than I do.”

So, there it was. Neil’s reason. He would’ve called you an insufferable bitch that he never wanted to see enter Gumshoe Video ever again hundreds of times by now — if your sensual voice insulting him didn’t get him all tight in the pants. 

He began having thoughts — thoughts of you. You, whispering vulgar, humiliating words in his ear, your hands carding his hair, pulling tight against his scalp, selfishly making him do whatever you wanted him to do, no matter his pleas. 

The fantasy was unlike anything Neil had dreamed up before, having always believed it should be him on top, him controlling the situation, him dominating — but it wasn’t a bad one. He’d come faster than he ever did before, just by imagining you were rolling your hips into his own… your strength pinning him down… your lips brushing past the shell of his ear, telling him he was so fucking dirty, so filthy for being this needy. 

However, that was all just a vague, distant pipedream, especially with how you seem to actually hate him. All the interaction he’d had with you consisted of poisonous, irritated words, insults and curses — which had him feeling both incredibly turned on, and sick at the fact he was attracted to you just by being mean to him. 

Sometime after that, nearing the end of the work day, Neil was the only one left there: Jonathan had taken the morning shift, and Lucien was, surprisingly, on a date with the cashier at their usual Chinese restaurant place. Looks like he succeeded in getting her number, while Neil had been pressed against you in that tiny tape closet, moments away from getting a hard-on. 

So, Neil was the only one there - and you were the only customer there. Your daily routine of stopping by and verbally attacking him was late today, so it was nearing midnight when you and Neil sat on the couch and began arguing. 

“I’m sure your “manly” ego isn’t at all pathetic and easily hurt by the superiority of Mia Farrow’s performance in Rosemary’s Baby.” You spat, leaning into the diverse array of old throw pillows that sat on the couch day after day. 

Neil rolled his eyes, hands up in the air animatedly. “My manly ego - and I don’t enjoy the sarcasm nor the air quotes you’re using - isn’t pathetic, nor easily hurt! Mia Farrow just wasn’t better than John Cassavetes was. I stand by the fact they were equal.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh, your hand coming down on Neil’s knee to dig into him angrily. “Neil, I don’t expect you to understand her performance - I don’t think anyone does, not with that little cinephile brain you have. Do you do any thinking up there, or is it just The Treasure of the Sierra Madre on rewind?”

Neil flushed, both at the insults and how your hand was on his fucking leg. “What about you? What is it that makes you keep coming back here if you think my opinion is so… worthless and entitled?” 

You grit your teeth, leaning in closer to him. “Because, Neil, this is the only other video tape shop for miles, and I will not be caught dead at Media Giant. Trust me, I despise this - “arrangement” of ours, far more than you do.”

He huffed, his gaze trailing over your features, unable to come up with a response: he was too busy focussing, trying not to zero in on how your face was inches away from one his, your fingers oddly inching up his thigh. 

“Don’t go making this about me. Why is it,” your continued, hands traced dizzying circles into the fabric of his jeans, “that you don’t just kick me out? I come in here, day after day, berating you, ignoring your recommendations… shouldn’t I have been banned a long time ago?”

Neil gulped. “You’re still a - a customer, one who rents daily I might add—“

You smirked up at him. “Don’t lie to me. I know Gumshoe’s doing just fine… and I heard you, y’know? Last week… in your office.”

“What? What are you talking about?” He stammered out, racking his head for what he might’ve been doing in his office— fuck. 

Fuck, he thought, mind racing rapidly, he thought you had already left by the time he started— 

“I heard you, hiding in your office… stroking yourself, moaning my name.” 

You’d rented just one tape last Friday, for a movie date with a guy from work, and you almost left - before realizing Neil took your membership card and never gave it back. You waltzed back in, and to your obvious surprise, Neil wasn’t at the register. 

“Neil?” You called out softly, trying not to spark an argument with him that would span hours, because you were trying to show up to this date on time. 

You walked down the back hallway, and found his office door, which had a gleaming NEIL LEWIS printed on its foggy glass. 

Your hand had almost reached for the handle, his name on the tip of your tongue, when you heard a needy whine slip past the door. Shocked, you lingered and pulled your hand away, pressing your ear against the pane to listen closer. 

“God, fuck,” you heard Neil curse, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer. “Need you so bad,” you heard him whisper to no-one but himself, before a low moan belted out of him. 

Your face grew warm, immediately, flushed at the news that Neil-fuckin’-Lewis was jerking off, in his office, mumbling your name. You squeezed your eyes shut, continuing to listen to his pretty voice, and after several moments of your lust-riddled mind drinking in his sweet noises, how he was so focussed on his pleasure while completely oblivious to your listening in, you found one of your hands coming up to tweak your erect nipple — fuck, his stuttered little moans had your cunt pulsing with utter need.

Neil was getting close, you could tell, hearing him buck into - what you assumed - was his wooden desk, sloppily muffled mewls leaving his mouth. 

You were biting down on your lip, hard, an incredible amount of self control in place. The man was so horny, sounding so fucking submissive it drove you insane: just the thought that he’d bend to your will and do whatever you wanted made your legs clench.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending who you ask, you felt your phone begin buzzing in the waistband of your modesty shorts - probably the date you were late for - and you had quickly fled. 

“Oh, jesus,” Neil blurted out now, alarmed, immediately in the flight part of fight or flight. “I- whatever you heard, I can - I can explain, really, so please don’t—“

Your hand gripped his thigh, keeping him from getting up. “Hey, hey, shh,” you said, bringing a finger to your lips. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I know, just as well as you do, how bad you want me.”

Truly, Neil couldn’t control himself that night. You had walked in, wearing a delicious little dress with a sweetheart neckline, strolling around in 3-inch heels, cooing mockingly at his costume for that week’s theme — a criminal wearing nifty little handcuffs to promote the double feature promotion of crime films and dramas — purposely leaning down to make him feel smaller than you. 

Neil had flushed, looking away, willing himself not to let out a needy groan at your get-up, instead silently checking out your tape rentals and quickly handing them back to you. After you’d walked out of the store, he’d dashed to his office, feeling the tent in his pants grow warm, aching. 

Quite similarly to how he felt now, your eyes coursing over his entire form, so close Neil felt himself sinking into the couch. 

“Look how fucking hard you are already.” you whispered, hand drawing away from his thigh and reaching for the bulge in his jeans, palming him between the fabric. “Does it turn you on? The fact you got caught?”

Neil’s breath hitched. “Fuck, please, I—“ 

“You’re so pathetic.” You said, laughing at him. “I can feel how big you are, such a thick cock, and all you know how to do with it is beg.”

Your plush lips were curled into a cheshire grin, baring your sharp teeth at him, and Neil was ashamed at how badly he wanted those teeth to press painful bites into his sensitive skin. 

He was about to whine again, plead desperately, but he shut up when you slipped off the couch, sinking to your knees, fingers undoing his belt buckle and fly. Shifting his jeans down, you dipped your hand down the waistband of his boxers and pulled his cock out: it was angry, hard and begging for release. 

But you wanted to tease him before you got to the good part. First, your warm breath fanned over his cock, making him jump, trying to rut up into your mouth, and your soft lips slipping past his leaking head had his hands tugging at your hair, trying to pull you closer to him. 

You thinned your eyes and got up, hand pressing his cheeks together and forcing his jaw open. You spit into his mouth, then patronizingly patted his face, “Do that again and I won’t touch you - I’ll take my tapes and leave you a needy fucking mess on this couch.”

Neil groaned, your spit foreign and hot on his tongue like lava. “God, I… I just wanna — want you so bad.” 

You tutted, sinking back down on your knees to face his rock hard length up and pressed flat against his abdomen. “Not yet. You haven’t earned it, you desperate fucking pervert. D’you know who jerks off in their office to someone they barely know? Fucking perverts.”

He leaned his head back, a moan leaving his lips at your insulting choice of words. It felt like you were torturing him, but his body wanted nothing more than you. 

Your lips then ghosted past him for another moment before you started your assault on his strained cock: you laid tentative kitten licks all the way down his length, enjoying how he squirmed under you, wanting nothing more but your wet mouth around him. Then, without warning, you took him in your mouth whole, tongue dragging and curling around his cock. You devoured him salaciously, hollowing your cheeks, sliding his cock in and out of your full mouth at an alarming speed, hitting the back of your neck with each thrust. 

Your tongue felt heavenly on his cock: wet, warm, and sticky, lapping at him without stopping. Your teeth grazed against him lightly, and Neil’s back arched into your touch. 

He was practically convulsing now, drooling as his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the pure pleasure you were inflicting on him with no split second or moment for him to regain his composure. You wanted to see him fall apart, come undone just by your mouth, he realized, and he wanted to let you, wanted to let go — but, as fast as you’d taken his hard cock into your mouth, you let him drop from your lips. 

“Why did you - please, fuck -- why did you stop?!” Neil whimpered noisily, head rolling onto his chest to look down at your face: lips plump, faint tear tracks running off your cheeks, your gagged spit falling from your chin. 

“I oughta take you down a peg, Neil. Show you what a dumb fucking loser you are, pretending you’re so confident, so dominant, like you know everything there is about movies.” You responded nonchalantly, getting up and shedding your panties and leggings. 

“M’not dumb,” he whined, looking at you through heavy lidded eyes, “god, you’re killing me here.”

“You’ll live,” you grinned, climbing on his lap and lining your wet sex with the fat head of his cock. Then you descended down on him, watching blissfully as his cock disappeared into your folds.

Neil’s hands wrapped around your waist, burying his face into your neck. He mewled against your skin, drunk on your tantalizing scent, lips wet with drool and leaving a slick trail. 

Despite your dominance in this situation, completely controlling Neil’s pleasure, you couldn’t control your own: Neil’s cock felt fucking good, long and thick in all the right places, a curve that arched right against your cervix, veins rubbing against your walls pleasantly. He stretched your cunt completely, making you wince, but there was still pleasure there, the feeling of your crevices being filled with his fat cock making your toes curl. 

After a moment of getting used to his cock, you rose back up, then sunk down, your hands gripping his shoulders for dear life. Neil’s head shot back, a labored cry leaving him as you set a steady, almost too slow pace, torturously sliding his cock in and out of your tight hole. 

Your hands trailed across his still-clothed chest, and you grieved the chance lost to have stripped him, your touch teasing him every step of the way — but having him deep within you was probably better. 

“Your- fuck, you’re so -- so soft,” Neil squeaked below you, revelling in how you took him, bottoming out each time like it was nothing. 

You simpered at his words, how helpless he was, succumbing to the pleasure; to you. “Knew you were,” you slammed down on his cock, making Neil choke, “pretending to be arrogant. You just needed someone to put you in your place.” 

Neil hadn’t realized it wasn’t a rhetorical question until your hand came up to his hair, tangling through his locks and tugging. “Who d’you belong to? Who put you in your place?” you murmured lowly. 

He whimpered at your roughness, leaning into the sofa obediently. “You! You own me,” he pleaded, desperately chasing his own pleasure. 

“That’s it,” you said, shutting your eyes, bobbing up and down on his cock faster. Your ass bounced above him, and Neil’s hands rested on the flesh of your rear, massaging you. 

Greedily, Neil tried to thrust into you, but you weren’t having any of it, deterring his attempts by pushing him so he laid flat on the couch, your hands pinning his wrists above his head, the new position pushing him deeper into you. 

“You stay down, you dirty fuckin’ loser,” you said caustically, but your actions said otherwise: your walls were squeezing around him needily, your cunt sucking him in so far you could feel his balls brushing against your clit. 

The tip of his cock brushed past your g-spot each time you rutted into him, and soon enough you felt it: that pulsing, that heat, that familiar coiling within your insides. Neil was reaching it too, his face flushed pink and his breathing as heavy as it was back then, in the tape closet. 

You began thumping down on him, your fingers tightening around his scalp. Your pace had gotten feverish, bordering feral, both your minds focussed on one thing: release. You could feel your cunt tensing, your mind going foggy, and then, there it was: your pleasure ran through you like electric current, shocking your body. You felt numb, tingly like when the blood flow to your arm gets cut off for a moment, making your pace stutter. 

You didn’t stop, however, riding out your high on his cock, bouncing up and down on Neil’s thick length. He felt fucking delicious, piercing you in all the right ways, and you adored how malleable he was right now: so horny and submissive he stopped speaking and was merely letting dirty moans leave his mouth without any protest. His gaze, his focus, was elsewhere, lost in the deep haze of pleasure your cunt was subjecting him too. 

You leaned down, pressing small love-bites onto his skin like he’d fantasized so many times before, and it broke him out of his stupor. “Did you think of this, in your office?” you whispered, “did you think of me, my tits bouncing, your cock deep in my cunt?”

“Ugh,” Neil groaned, reveling in how your seductive voice sounded like music. He was much, much closer than he thought, and when you licked up his jaw, your hot breath on the shell of his ear making him sweat, your cunt still fucking him roughly, he let go. 

You felt it first, the familiar liquid bursting past his thick head and painting your fleshy walls creamy, like a new coat of alabaster that Gumshoe desperately needed. 

“So good, so wet,” Neil groaned, shutting his eyes and pressing his forehead to yours. You stared at him, watching his lewd expression throughout his entire high, waiting for that beautiful blue gaze of his to open and face you again. 

“I’m milking you dry. Look how fucking full you’ve made me, you filthy pervert.” You were taking him for every drop he could offer, and it was delectable. 

You two were heaving now, both coming down from your highs. You’d effectively ruined the couch, your slick soaking the cushions and his jeans, as well as his come, which was leaning out of your still-stuffed hole. 

“I think you’ve gotta replace this manky ass couch, Neil,” was the first thing you said, your hands sliding down from their grip in his hair to his pink cheeks, rubbing his skin delicately. 

His eyes opened, watching you carefully. “It was about time,” Neil shrugged breathlessly. “Do you… do you actually - hate me?” he continued, murmuring self-consciously. 

You laughed, but it wasn’t sharp, not at him like before, no; it was tender, like a scarf Neil wanted to wrap around him in the winter time.

“I never hated you,” you murmured, tone reverent, “you’re just a little, how does it go…”

“Presumptuous?” Neil finished for you. 

You nodded, then grasped at his shirt and pulled him from the couch so he was sitting upright again. “Jus’ wanted to, ahem, “take you down a peg” like I said earlier..” you trailed off, cheeks growing warm remembering your earlier behavior during sex. 

This was all very new, to the both of you — you, in all your relationships and flings, were not the dominant partner. You guessed there was a first time for everything.

Then, you were about to get off his lap, but Neil held you steady on his cock. “Don’t go,” he said simply. “I’ve got Brief Encounter in the player, if you want to, y’know…” 

He wasn’t hard anymore, but it just felt good, cozy, having you two talk and regain your composure with him filling you nicely. It felt right. 

You smiled, a gummy, blissful smile. “Okay. I’ve actually never seen this,” you said, turning to face the tv, wincing slightly. 

“Really?” Neil said, an amazed joy seeping into his voice. 

“I’m joking,” you snorted, and you could practically see Neil pouting behind you. “But I don’t think we’ll be paying much attention…” you purred, clenching your thighs around his length. 

“Jesus fuck,” Neil groaned behind you, hands coming under your shirt, “you’re exactly like those movies.”

“I’m even better, baby.” 

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives #neil lewis smut #sub!neil lewis x reader

[mypoisonedvine]

𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 | neil lewis x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | a visit to gumshoe video could go one of two ways... but one way or another, you're gonna get him.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | varies

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut (18+ only), enemies to lovers, nothing too terrible just neil and reader bullying each other

this is a choose your own ending fic!! after the introduction, click to choose which way you want the story to go! each ending will have its own warnings section, so read those as well!

Technically, you always dressed well for work.  Corporate jobs require professional attire, obviously; but you were slightly overdressed today, and it wasn’t to go into the office.

Tight skirt and matching blazer, a silky-satin button-up, black heels, and thigh-high stockings with a seam up the back.  No, this wasn't how you dressed for a day in the office… this was how you dressed when you were closing a deal.

A little bell dinged as you walked into Gumshoe Video, and you looked around for a moment after you stepped inside: the decorations were… plentiful, and kitschy.  The displays were so small, and just a quick glance at some of the shelves had you frowning in confusion.  These are some seriously deep cuts… how do they make any money at this place?

Lucien came bounding up to you in an instant, hands pressed tight against his horribly out-of-fashion skinny jeans as if to hide that they were clammy already.  "Do you, uh, need help finding anything?" he asked.

You offered him a pitying smile, about to offer him a friendly ‘no thanks, but’ and then tell him why you were really here… but you were interrupted.

Jonathan, who had taken a break from sipping on a soda behind the counter, coughed to get Lucien's attention as he quickly shook his head.  He didn't seem to understand, though, looking back at you with his brows furrowed.

"Uh, ignore him,” Lucien laughed nervously.  “Are you looking for a rental?"

"Dude, she's not here to get a movie!" Jonathan snapped.  "Who dresses like that to pick up a tape?!"

"Maybe she's on her way to work!" Lucien returned sharply. "Or maybe she just came from somewhere!"

"Where?"

"My dreams!"

"No, your friend is right, I'm not here to pick up a movie," you admitted, and Lucien looked at you nervously.

"You, uh, don't like movies?" he wondered.

"I love them actually, but—"

The door to the office swung open, with Neil glaring at you from the other side of it.  "You," he announced with disdain.

"—but I'm here to speak with the owner," you finished, tilting your head and grinning at Neil.

"We have nothing to speak about," Neil assured you as he walked towards you.  

"We have multiple opportunities to discuss," you disagreed, "and my employers are very anxious that I deliver this message to you, so if we could please speak in your office—"

"Her employers?  Is this chick in the mob?!" Lucien blurted out fearfully.  "Neil, I know money's tight, but— oh fuck, was that 'small business loan' just a cover—"

"She's not from the mafia," Neil sighed.  "They actually have some morals."

You extended a hand to introduce yourself to Lucien.  After your name, you told him your job: "Head of Acquisitions, Media Giant, LLC."

Jonathan coughed again, poorly covering the sound of him saying "blood-sucking harpy" under his breath.

You smiled at him; "You really should get that cough checked out," you suggested pointedly.

“Whatever it is your puppet-masters want you to discuss with me,” Neil began, wiggling his fingers as if pantomiming a little marionette show, “you can take right over there into our women’s restrooms and shove directly up your ass.”

“Oh, that’s cute,” you smiled, “I bet you’ve been saving that one since our last little visit.  Can we go to your office now?”

“No, you can’t go in there— we just had the priest come by and bless it, we wouldn’t want your feet to burn now, would we?” Neil snarked in return.

“Fine— get it out of your system,” you encouraged.  “Say whatever’s been stuck in that pretty little head for the last month waiting for me to come back, and then we can have our meeting, alright?”

“I— well, uh—” Neil stalled, looking a little flustered as he suddenly leaned on a shelf of tapes with one hand.  “You think I’m pretty?” he mumbled nervously, running his free hand through his hair— only to put a little too much weight on the shelf and nearly tilt it over, having to scramble to catch it and make sure it was balanced again.

“Dude, pull yourself together,” Jonathan snapped at him, and Neil glared at him before looking back at you.

“Fine, okay— we can have a very brief conversation in my office,” Neil offered with a sigh, motioning for you to follow him, “but it’s going to go the same way it did last time: with me telling you hell no and you having to do the walk of shame back to your headquarters.”

“Looking forward to it,” you smiled, waving goodbye to the other men before stepping into Neil’s office as he shut the door behind you.

You watched him step around you to sit at his desk, looking at you expectantly with his legs spread and his fingers interwoven in his lap.

“Am I allowed to ask why you’re dressed like a cowboy, by the way?” you asked with a raised eyebrow, and he frowned at you as he tossed aside the hat and slipped the poncho off over his head, leaving just a much more normal outfit of jeans and a button-up underneath.

“We’re running a special on Westerns,” he explained, “it’s fun, okay?  Not that you would know fun if it smacked you on the ass and called you sweetcheeks.”

“Honey, that’s just what I call a Friday night,” you smirked as you stepped a little closer leaning against the side of his desk as he swallowed thickly.  You couldn’t just sit across from him— you needed to keep the upper hand.  “But I’m here for business.  Let’s talk business, shall we?”

“Right, business,” he frowned.  “I’m guessing your business here today is trying to buy my store, again?”

“Something like that,” you relented.

“You know, I guess I should take it as a compliment,” he grinned, leaning back further in the chair.  “Clearly, you know I’m a threat.”

“Please,” you rolled your eyes, “we’re a Fortune 500 company, and you’re a guy wearing a poncho.”

“I took off the poncho!” he defended.

“So you’re… just a guy, then,” you corrected.  “The point is, we’re not worried about you stealing our business at all.  We just think this location is going to waste.”

“You want the real estate?” he realized.

“You’re in a perfect spot, you know,” you informed him, “you just need… a little more help utilizing it.”

He sneered at you sharply.  “I don’t want anything from you.”

“You only hate me so much because you resent success,” you informed him with a sigh.  “Just because you’re broke and proud doesn’t mean making money is a sin.”

“It is when you put making money above everything else,” he replied, “like creativity and community and the authentic customer experience—”

“How exactly does Media Giant conflict with those things?” you scoffed.  “We’re a company founded on creativity— and we always foster community—”

“Spare me the doublespeak, Big Brother,” Neil scoffed, “you’re just a bunch of— of robots!  Your whole company, it’s just full of people trying to make a quick buck, top to bottom: you think the people in the back at McDonald’s give a fuck about food?  That’s what you are, the McDonald’s of the film industry.  You’d probably let a monkey work there if it could wear a nametag and convince someone to rent Fast and Furious Fifty or whatever the fuck.”

“Fine,” you sighed, “let’s just say for a moment that you’re right.  That my company is so terrible because we don’t employ people like you.”

He relaxed for a second, and you leaned in closer in hopes that he was really listening.

“This is your chance to fix that!” you explained.  “You can save us from the inside out, you know.  You can start from the bottom, be our best sales guy, and then it turns into a promotion and a raise and soon you’re climbing the corporate ladder— where you can make some real change.”

He shook his head, laughing a little.  “That’s not actually possible, it’s just a fantasy you tell all your little minions to keep them compliant.”

“It’s what I did,” you shrugged.

“You?” he realized with a laugh.  “You, in one of those navy vests and nametags, selling people tapes?”

“I’m sort of a cinephile,” you admitted.  “I wanted a job where I could talk about movies all day— and thanks to me, that Media Giant location rented out more copies of The Seventh Seal than all the rest combined.”

He stood up quickly, stepping closer to where you sat on his desk.  “Y-you like The Seventh Seal?”

“It’s a masterpiece,” you answered, speaking a little softer as he was so close, “Bergman is a genius.”

A strange look crossed over his face, a heavy-lidded sort of look as he examined you.  “Tarantino?”

“Overrated, but not bad,” you replied quickly.

“Tarkovsky?”

“Good, but hard to watch.”

“Lynch?”

You scoffed; “Don’t insult me.”

He laughed a little, crossing his arms and looking away from you.  “You could be one of the good ones,” he realized, “but you sold out.  And now you’re just a suit.”

“It’s not so bad,” you smirked, “I think you’d like a little more… structure, given the chance.”

“And that’s what you’re offering?” he pressed, and you nodded.

“We’ll let you keep the name, your employees… most of the decoration,” you offered, “you’ll just be technically a Media Giant franchise.  You have nothing to lose, and so much fucking money to gain.”

He sighed a little, looking at you again.  You could tell he was considering it, but not very thoroughly.  All you could do was hope for the best, and wait for an answer…

CLICK HERE FOR THE SUB!NEIL ENDING

CLICK HERE FOR THE DOM!NEIL ENDING

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis smut #dom!neil lewis smut #sub!neil lewis smut

[red-riding-wood]

I Want You to Want Me

Pairing: Neil Lewis x F!Reader

Fandom: Watching the Detectives

Summary: Neil receives a frantic call and finds you outside of Gumshoe after a date night gone wrong. Secretly habouring feelings for you ever since the two of you met, he finds you oddly irresistable in your tears and torn fishnets.

Warnings: SMUT, mutual pining, dub-con touching, dryhumping, riding, foreplay, teasing, begging (m), masturbation (m), clothed sex (semi), Neil being a wet paper towel, so just Neil being Neil, pervy Neil, switch!Neil, slight dom but mostly sub!Neil because c'mon guys it's NEIL, slight dom!reader, body worship, public sex (technically?), premature ejaculation (sort of?), angst, some fluff? by my standards anyway lol so take that with a grain of salt -- this ended up being more wholesome than I thought it would be

Inspired by this cover of I Want You To Want Me (the reader's song) and Creep (Neil's song) by Radiohead.

Huge thanks to @your-nanas-house for getting me started with a prompt for this and cheering me on!

Totally nicked the "jock boyfriend" inspo from @cillianmesoftlyyy's fic here; go check that out if you want more spicy Neil content, because it was fantastic!

And thank you and also fuck you to @rysko for dramatically beta reading this in my ear WHILE I WAS TRYING TO MAKE THE HEADER

And now that I'm done thanking every fic writer on tumblr, my parents, the Royal Society for the Prevention of Birds, and Saturn and all of its rings, enjoy your filth!

WC: 4239

He found you outside the back door of Gumshoe, huddled against the concrete step, the cool air of the spring night nipping at the wet tears that streaked your cheeks, the slight breeze stirring a shiver from one fretful limb to the next. The whites of your eyes burned red beneath the faint glow of the lanterns atop the neighbour’s picket fence. It wasn’t exactly the most incognito place to cry your eyes out, but you didn’t have a key to Neil’s store, and it was nearly three in the morning. 

“Hey, I got your call. What’s going on?” A familiar voice broke the pitiful sounds of your sobbing, and the tension of your shoulders eased if only slightly at the mere sound. 

You tried to answer past your sobs, but found that your words came only in hiccups, in broken fragments of your splintered heart, and it didn’t take long for him to sweep an arm around your shoulders, lowering himself to sit beside you on the cold step. Instinctively, you found yourself leaning into his touch, trembling against the warmth of his body. 

Neil was never really great at these sorts of things to begin with, but it certainly didn’t help that his attention was drawn to the low-cut top where a tear streaked down the groove of your breasts, to the fishnets that you’d torn on your way out the door of your boyfriend’s, to the short skirt that rode up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the lace hem of your panties. 

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, and he tried to keep his eyes on the face you so desperately tried to hide with your trembling fingers, for you were ashamed of your unkempt appearance. You must’ve looked like a cheap whore – a mess of one, no less. You couldn’t tell what was more embarrassing: the way you were dressed, like you were begging for attention, or the way your emotions seized you so cruelly that you could scarcely breathe. 

“Hey.” His warm, careful touch landed on your wrist, and as you pulled your fingers from your lashes, they came away black with smudged mascara. “I’m here,” your friend said. “Tell me what happened.”

You could still only speak in hiccups and broken vowels.

“Shhh,” Neil soothed you, fingers running up and down your spine, sending tiny shivers through each nerve as the fabric of your shirt bunched and his skin brushed yours. “Shhh. I’m here.”

Resting your head on his shoulder, your hair spilled in sticky threads over the jacket that, judging by the slight musty scent that lingered in the weave of the corduroy, had probably missed one too many washes. But you didn’t care. You’d come to appreciate the little imperfections about him, the details of his scent that made Neil Neil. Like the waxy tinge that seemed to always cling to his fingers after a long shift of rolling back tapes. Like the silk cream and smoke of the vanilla candle you’d gifted him last week. Like the artificial scent of cheap shaving cream and the slightest hint of blood where he’d nicked himself with the razor. The musk of his sweat and skin, buried beneath all these little things that you’d come to know almost as intimately as your own.

But there was something else, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. And its unfamiliarity unnerved you.

His other hand came to rest on your knee, hot as fire in the cold of night. He thumbed at the tear in your fishnets and looked at you with bright, concerned eyes, but he used this as an excuse to touch you.

“Did he hurt you?” Neil asked. His hand stayed on your knee. In a way, it felt comforting; it grounded you enough so that, finally, after lulled by the rise and fall of his shoulder and the unique blend of his scent, you could speak.

“Is that cologne?” You wrinkled your nose and drew back to look him in the eye, your tangled hair peeling reluctantly from his corduroy jacket.

A rose blush came upon Neil’s cheeks, and he smiled nervously. He’d been sure to spritz himself with a good helping of it before he left, despite his hurried state. He needed to impress you; ever since you’d started dating that jock from across the street, he’d been trying to find more ways to steal your attention back.

“Yeah, it’s new,” he said, a little flustered, in a way that made your stomach flutter. “I wanted to ask for your opinion on what I should get, but you – well…” His voice cracked a bit as a hint of sadness crept into his tone. “… you’ve been pretty busy lately.”

“It’s awful,” you told him, laughing slightly, and your words seemed to cheer him up; his lips tugged into that playful grin of his again, and a deep chuckle rumbled from his throat.

And then you both fell into silence, and he looked back to your knee, still thumbing the skin where the fabric had torn.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Neil said.

You swallowed, another lump forming in your throat, and when you looked at him, bottom lip in your teeth, reddened eyes pouting, rimmed by your messed mascara, his heart sped in his chest in both fear and arousal. The thought of James even touching you boiled his blood, made his skin crawl and tightened a noose round his neck, but seeing you like this, baring your soul to him with those tear-brimmed eyes and mournfully upturned brows, it made him want you even more.

If he’d been the one to take you out tonight, he would’ve brought you home to his bed, worshipped each inch of your hallowed skin and made love to you like you were the only woman in the world, splayed his fingers across your thighs and parted them like a sea, dropped to his knees and prayed with the hungered strokes of his tongue and lapped at your holy waters.

He’d started reading poetry lately. It had felt right; it was the only thing that seemed to express just how he felt about you. Echoed the words in private like they were gospel; chanted your name from desperate lips as he palmed himself each night – and morning – to your photographs, to the vanilla of the candle that reminded him so much of you, to the fantasy of your sweat-slicked thighs wrapped around his waist, your walls clenched around him as he bucked his hips against your weight and finally let himself go, spilling himself inside you and hearing you moan so sweetly for him from those heavenly lips, feeling his own cum dampen his stomach as you collapsed over him. He always knew you’d be so tight, that you’d fit so perfect around him.

But sitting here, staring at your shivering, impotent form in your torn fishnets and your skimpy attire, he could barely contain the urge to tear open your knees and fuck you against the concrete. It had been so long since he’d even been this close to you; James took up all of your time nowadays, and gone were the late movie nights and stolen games of basketball on the breaks he took so liberally.

He missed you. So much.

And you knew it. You knew it, deep in your chest where the remnants of your heart twisted, still hearing the words, “You’ve been pretty busy lately.”

You shook your head, choking out another sob as shame crept along your skin, and you shivered at its grotesque touch. “No, he didn’t hurt me… not – not in that way.”

You couldn’t look at him; his pearlescent blue eyes and his sun-kissed freckles and his boyish brown locks all fading into memory as you buried your face in his chest, inhaling once more the faint scent of his laundry detergent and the musk of him beneath the shirt that was flipped inside-out but still outlined the blatant logo of Back to the Future. Whether he hadn’t realised he’d put it on backwards or he’d been shy about it, you couldn’t be sure, but it lightened your heart all the same, your sobs turning to giggles.

Neil pulled you closer, his chin resting along the nape of your neck and his hand running up your thigh; you barely noticed how near his hand was to your panties as you tugged at his shirt, nails sinking past the fabric as if to keep him and never let him go.

You regretted all that time you’d spent with James, when you should have been spending it with him instead. Everything felt so much easier with him; your smiles were broader, your laughter more carefree.

But you wanted more – selfish and lovesick, you wanted more than what he already gave you. You needed more than his attention and his friendship.

You needed him to want you.

“I thought that…” You sniffled. “… I thought that James wanted me. I dressed up all… nice… fucking whorish… and I thought tonight was finally the night and that he would’ve… that he would’ve…”

The words twisted in your throat, and you squeezed your eyes shut. Two hours ago, when you did up your makeup and clothes for your date with James, you’d felt sexy. Powerful, even.

Now, you just felt worthless.

Neil nestled his nose in the crook of your neck, brushed the silk strands of your hair aside, breathed your scent in so deeply that for a moment, the butterflies came back to the pit of your stomach.

“I just want to be wanted,” you admitted, losing it, sobbing uncontrollably into the now-damp shirt that clung to his thin frame. “I just want to be desired. That was the only reason I was with him, Neil. The way he looked at me that day when he came into the store, I…”

With a bitter pang in his chest, Neil remembered that day. The way James had looked at you like you were a piece of meat. The way he’d asked you if had any recommendations on which sports film he should rent and Neil had practically wedged himself between the two of you and started chattering to James about every little piece of trivia he knew about Chariots of Fire and Rocky. How, despite his efforts, James had still gone home with your number as well as the tapes. How you’d come in the next morning with a hickey on your neck and Neil had just known that where James had paused one of the tapes was when your movie night was likely cut short by… things he’d rather not think about ever again.

It should’ve been his couch you’d been curled up on, should’ve been him watching the movie with you. His mark on your neck.

And he would’ve picked something a little more fitting for the mood, too. Something more like Casablanca or Sin City. It was as if James didn’t even have to try to get you drooling over him. What was so special about him, anyway?

I wish I was special, Neil thought.

Neil’s grip on you tightened at the memory, nails digging in to the flesh of your thigh in a way that stirred a little gasp from your lungs, huffing against his collarbone as you tilted your head up to look at him.

“Y/N.”  His breath caught in his throat, and he reluctantly pulled from your neck to look you in the eye, locks of messy hair falling across his forehead and his eyes half-lidded. His fingers ghosted up your thigh, and you blinked past the sharp mint of his mouthwash – it burned your eyes slightly, but you didn’t care. You were so close to him, your breaths became one, a few threads of his hair tickling your cheeks and his nose brushing yours.

“Neil,” you breathed, the slightest of smiles tugging at your lip as your heart thudded between your legs, dangerously close to his fingers. Warmth spread across each fevered limb, taking you somewhere past the cold concrete and bitter chill of the wind, somewhere away from the graffiti-painted alley and the reek of broken booze bottles. Somewhere safe, and warm, and thrilling all at once.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Neil’s voice cracked around the words, a nervous laugh huffing against your fluttering lashes as his freckled cheeks darkened another shade of red. The hand that wasn’t between your legs played with a lock of your hair, twirling it in his finger but still supporting you beneath a quivering arm.

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t believe this was real.

He had to have been playing some sick joke, right?

But the whimper that fell from his lips was very real, as his nails dug into your flesh again and he tugged you closer, his hips arching upward against your outer thigh.

“You look more than nice. You’re so fucking hot in this skirt, in anything you wear. That asshole is fucking blind,” he breathed, fingers grazing your panties and landing over your hipbone, testing the waters more and more as he tried not to rock his growing arousal too obviously against you.

But you noticed. You noticed the way his cock hardened and twitched beneath your weight; you noticed how even despite his body trembling from his attempts to resist his primal urges, his hips still gave little bucks upward, seeking friction. Seeking the heat that flared between your thighs, that ached for him so desperately that it was all you could do not to return the favour.

He couldn’t take it anymore. Staring into those gorgeous, bright eyes. Looking up at him with anything but innocence. So he scooped both hands around your ass, squeezing the flesh and lace and tugging you properly onto his lap with an alluring squeal tearing from your full lips.

“I want you, Y/N.” His hot breath pooled at your collarbone as he trailed wet, sloppy kisses along your jaw, your neck, and your lips parted in another gasp, back arching and thighs clenching around his waist as you ground wet panties against the bulge in his trousers.

“I fucking need you,” he whined, nipping like a needy puppy at the delicate skin of your neck. “Always have.” Another kiss. “Ever since I first saw you. Long before James.” A possessive growl stirred from his throat at that, the flare of dominance sending a jolt through your core.

“Neil, I – oh my God.” A moan broke your words as his fingers moved up your spine and his teeth grazed your collarbone, hovering over your pulse point.

“Fuck, baby. Say that again. Just like that.” His fingers began rolling your shirt up over the lip of your breasts, the sight enough to make him whine again in need. He couldn’t help himself from groping you, squeezing your breasts and rolling one nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Bending his neck to trail more sloppy kisses down your torso, they were his next destination.

“Oh my – Neil. Neil, I – “ You had so much to tell him, so much you needed off your chest, but his hips bucked sharply against you at the sound of his name moaned so beautifully, a low groan in his throat and his cock digging slightly inside your heat, the fabric of your panties scraping almost painfully against your walls.

“Please, Y/N, please don’t make me stop. Please let me keep touching you like this. I wanna worship you.” His hot breath shattered against a pert nipple. “Wanna fucking prove to you how much I want you.”

For a few moments, you were rendered speechless, mind whirring like the wheels on a VHS. Everything was happening so fast, and the warmth of his touch was seeping into you like honey, inundating you in a sort of comforting flame.

He could almost smell the vanilla of the candle wick burning.

You left nail marks down his chest where you clawed at the collar of his shirt, but he didn’t care. He sucked a nipple past his teeth and moaned around the taste of you, the sound so filthy that your eyes nearly rolled back in your skull as your parted lips tipped to the heavens. His name outlined by their perfect shape.

Reality came crashing down around you as you jumped, another squeal leaving your tongue as his teeth bit at your nipple and pain shot along your nerve endings.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, chest heaving, looking up at you with reverent eyes. “I didn’t mean to, I – “

You cupped his chin in your palm and shook your head. “No, Neil. I’m sorry.” A tear streaked down your cheek, beaded on your jawline. “I’m so, so sorry.” You were beginning to sob again, and his brow furrowed in concern, thumb beginning to trace small circles along your spine. “I’m sorry I abandoned you for James, I didn’t… I shouldn’t have. I didn’t know you felt this way, I – I’m so sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he told you, his words sinking into your skin like a warm tide. With one hand, he brushed the tear from your jaw and wove his fingers into your hair, pulling you closer. “Just let me keep touching you. Please.”

When you didn’t respond for a moment, caught up in the way his blue eyes seemed to hollow with a certain hunger, the way his chest rose and fell beneath the bare flesh of your stomach, he uttered that word again:

“Please.”

You smiled, elated and giddy with joy, blood pounding with arousal, and kissed him, threading your own fingers into the fluffy locks of his hair.

Another tear streaked across your lips as they met his, and you tasted like salt and vanilla, slightly waxy from your chap-stick but the sweetest thing he’d tasted nonetheless. At first, he was embarrassed by the noises he made, the way he’d accidentally called you “baby” because he’d always wanted to do so, but he melted beneath you like butter. Nothing mattered anymore except the fact that you were finally his, that you were in his arms and grinding against his cock.

Neil broke the kiss to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside somewhere on the concrete – he would buy you a new one. His hands flattened against your back and pulled you flush to his chest, taking any excuse he could to hear that little squeal you made each time.

“Please, baby, please let me be inside you,” he whined, biting his lip as he stared up at you with those powder-blue eyes. Nails dug into your skin. Hips bucked against yours.

Your heart soared with his words, his worship, his want; you’d never been this ecstatic in your whole life. Part of you wanted to keep teasing him, make him beg, while another part of you ached to feel him buried to the hilt inside you.

“Patience, Neil,” you giggled, as you undid his trousers. You worked them down to his knees and your eyes widened as your hand brushed his cock, bare and springing flush against his stomach. You hadn’t expected him to not wear boxers.

Neil smiled sheepishly up at you, eyes still lidded, mouth still panting out a fevered breath. “I was in a rush getting dressed. I…” His cheeks reddened, and there was something so cute about how pathetic he looked in that moment. “You wanna know how much I want you, Y/N? I was touching myself thinking of you when you called.”

Creep, some voice in the back of his head hissed.

You bit your lip to suppress a moan, trying to ward off thoughts of Neil stroking himself to you, finishing to the thought of you. Oh, how you wished you could have witnessed the sight.

“Did you come?” you asked, a devious grin pulling at your lips as you took him in your hand, massaging a bead of pre-cum into his sensitive flesh.

His eyes fluttered, and he shook his head, his words coming out as a breathy whine,

“No, I promise. I didn’t come. Not yet.”

“Will you?” You dipped your head to let your words tickle his neck, your grip on him tightening.

“Yes,” he moaned. “Yes, yes, oh God, I will. Fuck, baby. Fuck, gonna come if you don’t stop that, need to come inside you, please, please…”

His mutterings trailed off into a low hiss of a whine, and your movements stilled, dragging him to his peak and letting him teeter at the edge as you both caught your breaths, chest heaving and a cold chill racing down your sweat-slicked back, thighs trembling around him.

“You sure you can handle this?” you purred against his ear before pulling back once more to witness the shivering mess you’d made him, priding yourself in your accomplishment. Lining his cock up with your entrance, the fabric of your panties scraped his tip teasingly as you slotted them to the side.

Neil looked up at you like you were some kind of goddess, his breathing coming laboured, his throat stripped of words. The dazed, blissful look he gave you was all the answer you needed. But you wanted to reap him of every last praise he had.

“Use your words, Neil,” you giggled, smirking.

“Ah…” His lips parted, near soundless. You watched intently as they formed the word “Please”.

You almost felt bad for him.

But it wasn’t pity that brought your hips down around him, slowly, teasingly, savouring the stretch of him against your walls and the fullness in your belly, but rather, your own need.

Neil’s head rolled back against the brick wall, blood welling at his lip where he bit it to keep himself from toppling over his peak; he nearly did it to himself when he bucked his hips upward, burying himself inside you, making you whimper at the pain that blended so sordidly with the pleasure. Your fingers tugged at his hair, and your nails grazed his scalp, and every little sensation sent him into overdrive. He used these little things to ground himself, as you had his tangled scents; he focused on how smooth your stomach felt against his own, his shirt hiking up so that you were skin to skin; he focused on the noises you made, huffing and whimpering, as you began to ride him; he focused on the softness of the breast that he cupped in his hand. Tried not to think about how you felt better than he’d imagined, how you clenched so tightly around his cock that he was almost pushed out each time you elevated your hips, but were so wet for him that he slid back inside so seamlessly each time.

“Neil,” you moaned as you fucked yourself on his cock, breast bouncing beneath his thumb, skirt fluttering around the bareness of his thighs. “Neil, fuck. Fuck.”

“Baby, I’m s—sorry. I’m gonna…”

You yelped again as pain shot deep inside your core, his hips bucking against yours with a violence you hadn’t known sweet Neil from the VHS store to possess, bottoming out inside you as his nails dug into the now-abused skin of your back and pulling you close, so close you were panting over his shoulder and his breath shattered against your ear. The hand that had been cupping your breast shot up to cradle your head, petting your hair.

He held you to him so tight, you didn’t think he’d ever let go. And you couldn’t have been happier.

Warmth spilled around his cock, sticky against your thighs, painting your insides white. You shuddered around him, balling his hair into a fist and digging your own, sharper nails, against his back.

“I didn’t mean it to be over so fast,” he mumbled into your neck. “I just… you’re so… fuck, I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

“So have I,” you breathed. You practically hugged each other, shivering in the night air but content in each other’s warmth. “Don’t worry.” Pulling away slightly, you smiled down at him, cheeks flushing bright red. “If anything, it… it’s endearing.”

“Really?” he chuffed out a laugh.

“It…” you looked down, unable to meet that crystalline gaze. “It makes me feel wanted.” You pecked a quick kiss to his jaw, and could’ve sworn you saw love in his eyes when you pulled away.

“God, you’re perfect.” His voice broke again as his lips sought yours, and his breath hitched in his chest when the action caused you to rock your hips forward, a new sensation he’d never felt before buzzing along his skin. His mouth hung open and you laid kisses to his lips, his jaw, the Adam’s apple that bobbed along his throat. He felt his cock stiffen again inside you, already eager for Round Two.

“I should take you home,” he murmured, hands running up and down your sides. “You must be so cold.” As if just realising that he still had his jacket on, Neil shrugged it off in haste and wrapped the heavy material around your shoulders. A chill ran down your spine, as the material was damp with sweat – you smiled at how predictably forgettable he was when he had a woman on his lap, just as you’d imagined –, but his scent soothed you.

Though you were cold, it was a small sacrifice to make to stay here, with him buried so deep inside you that you felt dizzy in the head. Depleted of your energy and sinking into his warmth, you smirked, and rested your chin on his shoulder.

“I was thinking of just staying like this a while,” you admitted.

“Whatever makes you happy,” he breathed, hugging you even tighter. “Whatever you want.”

A.N. Sorry if this was a bit rough, guys. I smashed this one out the other day because I was tired of my writer's block.

I actually laid into some themes that I was planning on using for a Dark!Neil fic based on the song "Creep" which I don't know when I'll get around to writing, but let me know if you guys would like to hear more about the idea for the series or are interested.

MASTERLIST • REQUEST

Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed to any of my taglists and notified of new works!

Taglist: @emotionalcadaver @zablife @shelbydelrey @look-at-the-soul @brummiereader @mrkdvidal1989 @fiercelittlemouse @ohwellthatslifesstuff @purplesnorlaxplush @henrywintersdearestgirl @goblinjnr @mizzbel @s0urmarvel @onasmoko @elenavampire21 @rysko @chris-seb-marvel @muhahaha303 @novemberschy @thatonesinglefriend @forgottenpeakywriter @youbyradiohead @your-nanas-house @onehornedbeast @kiss-me-cill-me @ilovefictionalpsychopaths @birminghamshelbyboys @sometimes-i-sing

#neil lewis #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis x you #neil lewis smut #neil lewis imagines #neil lewis fanfic #neil lewis fic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy #neil lewis watching the detectives #watching the detectives 2007 #watching the detectives #fuck james #all my homies hate james #s: i want you to want me

[cillianhead]

★ MASTERLIST ★

Hey this is the masterlist with all the fics i've written so far (and will be updated every time i upload a new fic)

Cillian Murphy x Reader:

Put The Beatles On, Light The Candles, Go Back To Bed (fluff)

Three And A Half Months (smut)

Illicit Affairs (smut, dad's best friend!Cillian)

In Your Car, I'm A Star (smut)

Wind In My Hair, I Was There (angst + smut)

Lazy Sundays (smut)

A New Pair of Glasses (smut) (part one)

Red Eyes (smut) (part two)

Strawberry Syrup (smut)

Jonathan Crane x Reader:

Sitting Pretty (smut)

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby (fluff + angst + comfort)

Are You Afraid of The Dark? (smut)

Neil Lewis x Reader:

Pussy-Whipped (smut)

You're The Only One Who Makes Me Feel Alive (smut + angst)

Slut (smut)

Thomas Shelby x Reader:

Show Me How Much You Need Me (smut)

Ambrosia (smut)

Look What You Made Me Do (smut)

Emmett (A Quiet Place II) x Reader:

Scream For Me (smut)

Jackson Rippner x Reader

Your Dog (smut)

Oppenheimer x Reader

- Oppie is a sub? (smut)

don't see something you think should be there? send me requests and i'll write em <3

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #a quiet place II #a quiet place 2 #emmett a quiet place #emmett #emmett x reader #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #batman #batman begins #watching the detectives #neil lewis #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fanfiction #oppenheimer #oppenheimer smut

[slut4thebroken]

Cillian Murphy & Characters Masterlist

Smut - ❤️

Fluff - ✨

Angst - 🖤

Dark content - ❗️ (noncon elements)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

main masterlist

𝑷𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅:

༺˚ʚ Cillian Murphy ɞ˚༻

Stepdad!Cillian x cheerleader!reader ❤️

Stress relief ❤️

༺˚ʚ Emmett ɞ˚༻

Second Chances ❤️❗️

Ultimatum ❤️❗️

Emmett x wife!reader “series” ↓

Home Improvements ❤️

The Recipe ❤️

༺˚ʚ Jackson Rippner ɞ˚༻

Partners ❤️

All Work, No Play ❤️❗️(ongoing)

Practice Makes Perfect ❤️

Stranger ❤️

༺˚ʚ Jonathan Crane ɞ˚༻

Exposure Therapy ❤️❗️🖤✨ (ongoing)

Favorite Toy ❤️✨ (sub!jon)

baby bat ❤️❗️(blurb)

Meant to Be ❤️❗️

Nymphomania ❤️ (age gap🥰)

Dangerous Game ❤️

Doctor’s Orders ❤️❗️

The Incident ❤️❗️

Erotomania 🖤❤️ (ongoing)

Safe ❤️

༺˚ʚ Neil Lewis ɞ˚༻

Stuck ❤️

Little Black Dress (pt. 1) ❤️❗️

Until Next Time (pt. 2) ❤️❗️

Just a Dream ❤️❗️

Tease ❤️

Bully stepbro!Neil pt. 1

Promise ❤️

Pool Party ❤️

Possessive!Neil x bsf!reader drabble

Vacation ❤️❗️

Stay ❤️❗️

༺˚ʚ Raymond Leon ɞ˚༻

Timekeeper Raymond Leon 🖤 (pt. 1)

Daddy’s Little Girl ❤️

༺˚ʚ Robert Capa ɞ˚༻

Trapped ❤️❗️

༺˚ʚ Robert Fischer ɞ˚༻

Childhood Enemies Turned Lovers? ❤️ 🖤 ✨ (ongoing)

Name Your Price ❤️

Party Favor ❤️❗️

The Deal ❤️

༺˚ʚ Thomas Shelby ɞ˚༻

Tommy’s Pet ❤️

Sweet Dreams ❤️❗️

Needs ❤️

༺˚ʚ Other ɞ˚༻

Earn Your Prize ❤️ (choose your own character)

༺˚ʚ Head Cannons ɞ˚༻

Stalker!reader pt. 1

Stalker!reader pt. 2

Glory hole

Dad/stepdad finding your vibrator

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔:

༺˚ʚ Jackson Rippner ɞ˚༻

Jackson Rippner x stalker!reader ❤️

Jackson Rippner x fbi agent!reader ❤️❗️

༺˚ʚ Jonathan Crane ɞ˚༻

Sex pollen ❤️

Scarecrow x vigilante!reader ❤️❗️

Change 🖤

Sub!Jonathan Crane ❤️

Jonathan Crane x innocent!reader ❤️

༺˚ʚ Neil Lewis ɞ˚༻

Stepbro!Neil ❤️❗️

Desperate!Neil accidentally sticks you in the wrong hole and can’t stop ❤️

༺˚ʚ Raymond Leon ɞ˚༻

Timekeeper Raymond Leon pt. 2 ❤️

Raymond x Robert x criminal!reader ❤️

༺˚ʚ Robert Capa ɞ˚༻

The bet ❤️

༺˚ʚ Robert Fischer ɞ˚༻

Raymond x Robert x criminal!reader ❤️

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #jonathan crane smut #scarecrow #scarecrow x reader smut #batman begins #the dark knight #jackson rippner #red eye movie #red eye #cillian murphy #Jackson rippner x reader #Jackson rippner smut #raymond leon #in time #Raymond Leon x reader #Raymond Leon smut #neil lewis #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis smut #watching the detectives #angst #smut #fluff #Cillian Murphy masterlist

[feasibilities]

Growing Pains | Neil Lewis x Unstable Ex-Girlfriend!Reader

Synopsis: Lying to Neil about breaking up with him didn't go over too well, so you want to make it up to him. Warnings: Stalking, Home Invasion, Non-Con, Humiliation, Exhibitionism, Dacryphilia, Overstimulation, Degradation, Dom-Sub Aspects, etc.

Author's Note: I've seen a lot of amazing stories that make Neil the creep so I wanted to reverse the roles. I love how scared he looks in the gif above. Also, please reply if you want me to add you to a taglist! Here. Take it! @mothhball

“I missed you so much, Neil.” You whispered, standing over the fearful man. His blue eyes were wide with unease.

“How the fuck did you…” Neil trailed off, noticing the unlocked window you crawled through. 

“You left it unlocked so I knew you were waiting for me.” You smiled.

“You have serious issues. You broke up with me and when I finally start to get over you, here you are.” Neil complained, putting his face in his hands.

“You mean you weren’t thinking of me all those times you jacked off in the shower or in here with some smutty VHS tape playing?” You teased, walking to his worn out VHS player.

Neil went to stop you from taking the tape out but remembered he was nude underneath the blanket. He rushed awkwardly and hid his lower half, but he was too late.

“College Girls Get Pounded #13. What a summary!” You exclaimed, putting the tape back in the slot and pressing play. A lewd clip of a cheerleader having an orgy with some of her football-playing counterparts appeared on the screen. Gruff hands entered the frame to grab at the soft flesh of her breasts, thighs, and ass. Her pleas for mercy were met sneers and teasing. 

“Can you please-“ Neil started, feeling incredibly embarrassed.

“Shh, this is my favorite part.” You shushed him, earning a confused glance.

You watched her entire body shake as one of the players rammed into her. He covered her mouth and held her firmly in place. Her cries of pleasure were still audible. Just as she was about to come, Neil turned off the TV.

“Please go home. You’ve humiliated me enough.” Neil sighed, ignoring his hard-on. 

“I am home. Also, I have something to show you. Be right back.” You winked, scurrying into his closet with your book bag. 

Neil told himself that he was sick of your mind games, but another part of him was absolutely enthralled. None of his exes put him on edge like you did. You brought out the most insane parts of his personality. 

Opening the closet door, you revealed that you put on your old cheerleader uniform. It was a bit too snug and your skirt sat too high. Your breasts were spilling out of the top. You sold the look with a sparkly bow tied around your ponytail. Neil was practically drooling, but he tried to stay firm in his refusal of your advances. 

“J-just go. I don’t even know why you put that on.” Neil said, his voice cracking toward the beginning of the sentence. 

You walked toward him and stood over him once more. He closed his eyes tightly hoping you would disappear like you did in his dreams. You were obviously still standing there when he opened them. Kneeling in front of him, you started to pull the blanket away from his lower half. You giggled at his pathetic efforts to stop you. Finally, you saw what he was so embarrassed about. His dick was painfully hard. Pre-ejaculate leaked from his tip. Veins adorned his shaft. 

You took him in your hands as an evil smile grew across your face. You squeezed slightly, making him whimper. 

“Dirty little boy…” You degraded him. Suddenly, you had an idea that would humiliate him further. 

“Stand in front of the window.” You ordered.  

“Please don-“ He begged.

“Do it.” You spat through gritted teeth. 

He walked to the window and stood quietly. You walked up behind him and forcefully put his hands above the window, exposing himself completely. You spit in your hand and began stroking him harshly. Neil cried out and asked you to stop. However, you saw him thrusting into your hand. His eyes brimmed with tears as his anxiety was through the roof. It was the middle of the night, but he worried some stranger would see you two. 

You planted kisses on his shoulder and occasionally massaged his tip with your thumb. You were turned on by his crying. Neil’s whining grew louder as he approached his climax. His hands were clenched into tight fists above the window. You rutted against him to rile him up even more. Suddenly, hot ropes seed shot out of him onto the window sill. The rest seeped between your fingers. You continued to stroke slowly to drain him of any remaining defiance. 

“P-please, I’ll do anything you say. It hurts.” Neil sobbed.

“You mean it?” You mocked.

“Yes.” Neil replied, tears rolling down his face. 

“Good.” You said, pulling him toward the bed and pushing him down. Straddling him, you pulled off your top. Neil’s teary eyes took in the beautiful sight. He reached up to touch you before you smacked his hand away. 

“I wanna watch a movie.” You blurted out. Neil seemed to relax at your suggestion. You made it an effort to bend over and put in the tape. Coming back to the bed, you straddled him once more, facing away. You pulled up your skirt and slid down on him. A faint moan left your mouth as you turned to the screen. 

“I tho-I thought we were watching a movie.” Neil faltered, feeling a rush of adrenaline again. 

“We are. Now shut up so I can watch.” You reprimanded him, moving up and down slowly. You missed how he felt inside of you. Neil’s breathing was heavy and ragged. His pupils were dilated and his legs trembled intermittently. He saw how your arousal covered his shaft. He wanted to pin you down and take you like the girl in the video. Being submissive to you proved to be way more interesting, however. 

“This is one of the high points of 1940s cinema, isn’t it?” You asked innocently, bouncing faster. 

“What?” Neil responded, completely oblivious. 

“Why aren’t you paying attention? This is one of your favorite movies, Neil. You talked my fucking ear off about it when we met.” You chastised him, slowing down once more. 

“N-no, I am paying attention. I feel like it’s one of the best movies of the era. I…” He trailed off once you clenched around him. 

“Mhmm, and what else?” You teased. 

“The cinematography is extraordinary.” He said, staring at you. 

“Yeah...” Your voice quavered as you felt that familiar warmth in your lower stomach. Neil picked up on this and decided to return the favor. He sat up and pulled you toward him. Your back was flush against his chest. He groped your breasts harshly and moved his hand to your clit. You gave him a death stare that made him smile sweetly. 

“What did you like about the movie, darling?” Neil goaded. 

“Fuck you.” You ignored him, loving that he was touching you.

“Ah-ah, watch your language.” He said, bottoming out. You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but he held you tightly. As he began thrusting vigorously, he pinched one of your nipples. A reverberant moan left your throat. At this point, the neighbors definitely heard you two. Neil moved his fingers from your clit to your mouth. Eyes rolling back, you sucked them lovingly as he hit your g-spot with each thrust. You leaned forward to lessen the blow of his movements before he yanked you back by your skirt. 

“Stay still, slut.” Neil snapped, putting a hand around your throat. 

Your vision went white when you came. You groaned loudly and held his wrist for dear life. He missed this so much. You two pushed each other to your respective limits. He was truly depressed when you “broke up” with him. You made it seem so real. He wondered if he wasn’t enough, but now he had his answer. 

#cillian murphy #neil lewis #watching the detectives #cillian murphy smut #my writing #neil lewis x reader #fanfiction #love #breakup

[ceirinen]

December 2023

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

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

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

I totally recommend their work.

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

@cillianmesoftlyyy

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

@runnning-outof-time

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

@zablife

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

@gypsy-girl-08

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

@pacifymebby

Arthur Shelby x Reader

@fkmarrycill

Pre-Gaming | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@holacia3

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

@beastofburdenxo

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

@look-at-the-soul

If I let you go | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@your-nanas-house

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

@raincoffeeandfandoms

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

@lis-likes-fics

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

@rafeology

Mentor!Finnick Odair x victor!reader

@wife-of-all-dilfs

Flower Therapy | Finnick Odair x Reader

@darlingsfandom

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

@pinguwrites

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

@http-finnick

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

@acewritesfics

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

@dearshelby

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

@lau219

Red Carpet | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@peakyswritings

I Do Bad Things | demon!Tommy x Reader

@shelbystales

Ceramic Lessons | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@darthannie

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

@hllywdwhre

Afterglow | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@red-write-hand

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

@mysaintkitten

Bad Behaviour | Mike Kiernan x fem!Reader

@notyour-valentine

The Spirits that I summoned | young!Tommy Shelby

@brummiereader

No Son Of Mine | Tommy Shelby

@youbyradiohead

Strawberry Syrup | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@cillianthinker

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

@cillspropertea

Coming home | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@cillmequick

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

#cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby x reader #neil lewis x reader #finnick odair x reader #thomas shelby x reader #lenny miller x reader #arthur shelby x reader #mike kiernan x reader #william killick x reader #alfie solomons x oc #robert fischer x reader #edward cullen x reader #tom buckley x reader #luca changretta x reader #fic rec #monthly reads #fic recommendation

[pinguwrites]

very polite request asking for reader coming home late to find neil eating out his fleshlight because he misses you please? 🥺

I grinned like the grinch when I saw this 😃

Drabble: You catch your boyfriend Neil eating out his fleshlight

Pairing -> sub!neil lewis x girlfriend!reader

Warnings: um eating out fleshlight?, oral sex f receiving, sub!neil, dom!reader, established relationship, slapping, baby & good boy nickname, mild degradation/praise

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

“Mmm.”

You paused in your tracks, setting the groceries down on the kitchen counter as you strained your ears to listen for the strange noise. When you didn’t hear it again, you let it go and put all the diary products you bought in the fridge, but then it happened again—another “mmm”, but this time, you could tell where the sound was coming from.

The neutral expression on your face was immediately pulled upwards into a grin. Now you knew what it was.

You walked as quietly as you could to the master bedroom, expecting to see your boyfriend with his cock in his hands, only to see him with his fleshlight, mouth to the entrance, licking and sucking and groaning as he rutted his hips against the bed, occasionally slapping his own face like you did to him during sex.

You giggled, delightfully surprised. You knew Neil was needy, but to pretend he was eating you out? That was something else entirely.

He whipped his head around the moment he heard your laughter, and immediately, his face went beet red. He pulled his tongue out of the fleshlight and tried to cover his cock with a nearby pillow, even though you’d seen it about a thousand times, and whimpered.

“If you wanted to eat pussy, you could have just asked, baby,” you teased. “Such a loser.”

Flustered, Neil hid the toy underneath the blanket. Like that would do anything. “I—I thought you were going to a friends house,” he said, tone raspy and needy. “You said you weren’t going to be home till midnight,” he added.

“Yeah, well, my friend canceled.” You looked him up and down, gaze predatory. “I’m glad she did. Otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten to see this.”

“M’sorry,” Neil apologized, a terrified look in his eyes. He was never this nervous when you caught him being horny. “I won’t—I just, I . . .” He looked up at you. “I missed you! You’ve been gone all week. Working, running errands, and we haven’t been able to—you know—and I just got,” he tried to make a gesture with his hands, when he realized he didn’t even know what gesture to make.

You walked over to him and straddled yourself in his lap over the blanket. He placed his hands on your hips, like they belonged there, the glint in his eyes desperate.

“I’m not mad,” you said softly, running your fingers through his hair. “I think it’s kinda hot. You like pleasing me so much?”

Neil’s muscles visibly relaxed. “Yeah. Makes me feel good, too.”

He watched as you took of your pants, sliding down your panties slowly. He tried to pull it down faster, but you swatted his hand away, and he whined an, “Ow!”

He retreated, watching carefully. He didn’t dare touch his own cock, nor place his hands on you again. He didn’t want to be met with a punishment, not when you were clearly letting him get off.

“I’m right here.” You hovered your wet pussy over his face, intent on riding him till his nose and lips were covered with your cum.

He lifted his head up, almost touching your folds. But he waited for your permission, like the good boy you knew he was.

“Well? Eat me out, Neil. I don’t have all day.”

Taglist:

@henrywintersdearestgirl

@shroombloom-rry

@meetmeatyourworst

@mrkdvidal1989

#neil lewis #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis x you #neil lewis x y/n #watching the detectives #cillian murphy #fanfiction #pinguwrites

[heartshapedmisery]

𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐇𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (18+)

cillian murphy • dark paradise | bfd!cillian ( ✧ ) coming soon! • ultraviolence | bfd!cillian part ii ( ✧ ) coming soon!

robert fischer (inception) • art deco | rob x fem!secretary!reader ( ✧ )

tommy shelby (peaky blinders) • inked in red | dark!tommy x babysitter!fem!reader ( ✧ ) coming soon! • off to the races | tommy x waitress!reader ( ✧ ) coming soon! • eye for an eye | dark!tommy x gold!fem!reader ( ✧ ) coming soon!

davin mcderby (sunburn) • blue jeans | davin x bartender!fem!reader ( ✧ ) coming soon!

neil lewis (watching the detectives) • sulk | sub!neil x coworker!fem!reader ( ✧ ) coming soon! • girls on film | dom!neil x girlfriend!reader ( ✧ ) coming soon! • drabble: neil spitting in your mouth he while fucks you ( ✧ ) • drabble: riding sub!neil ( ✧ )

tom buckley (red lights) • is this desire? | soft!tom buckley x fem!student!reader ( ✧ ) coming soon!

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #robert fischer #tommy shelby #davin mecderby #neil lewis

[differentclasss]

Can u do a jackson rippner smut for fem sub reader where like, they work together and she is assigned on a mission with himmm

The Professional - Jackson Rippner x Reader

C/W: guns, typical assassin stuff, smut, rough blow job, vaginal sex, canon typical violence, and Jackson Rippner is a dick lol.

A/N: Thank you for the request! Also the song, "The Professional" by Pulp inspired this fic. I hope this is good! Also, I started working on a Neil Lewis request, hopefully, it will be easier to write less dark topics for a change!! 

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You were just the informant. Just a measly informant who honestly, really would rather not work for a group like this. To be honest, you didn’t even like what you did. It just gave you enough money to enjoy the modern comforts of life. All those things you wanted for so long now were yours after living from paycheck to paycheck before. It was dirty money, you knew that of course, but if it kept you housed and equipped with nice clothes, fine jewelry, and the nicest home decor, you could withstand a little grime on your hands. It wasn’t like it was you who killed or terrorized, you just made sure they had all the information to do so. It was sleazy and even a little vain, sure, but you never owned such nice clothes and jewelry.

You didn’t have that before, in fact, you were the first person in your family to ever achieve this sort of success. Your family, the bleeding heart folks they are, had all lived comfortably but never extraordinarily. You had suspected the same, to live that safe typical life. That changed when you got a job at a firm of some sort as a private investigator. Or, what you thought was a private investigator, you weren’t stupid, you pieced it together that this job was investigating people who had to be “taken care of” or whatever mob movie-esque way of saying it was. After some time the firm was more open about their true colors regarding their work. You told yourself that you were in too deep to stop now, too far gone to stop yourself from continuing. (And the money. Jesus the money! They do say that money is the root of all evil, don’t they?) You weren’t even sure if you believed in hell but you were sure that doing this work was your ticket there. 

Still, you did it. You worked around the clock to gather as much information on a client as possible, even knowing exactly what time they left their house every morning on average. You weren’t one of Charlie’s Angels, no, not by far, but you did have a knack for finding information on people. It gave you some comfort knowing that you had plausible deniability, if one day this whole firm was busted, you already knew you could cry and say you had no idea. You were just doing what you were told. To be fair, you did anything Jackson Rippner, the manager of the firm, said. There was just something about his cocky charm that got to you, like how it got to everyone else he interacted with. 

There were a few words to describe Jackson Rippner, he was a charming douchebag, among other ones. Granted, you were hardly at the receiving end of any of his lectures or reprimanding but you saw it happen enough to know that you never wanted to be the one who was. You figured that if you kept doing what you were doing you would be okay. Most of your interactions with him were seemingly pleasant or at the very least, cordial. He was a looming presence when you were sitting up in your office, piling through everything a client had done. He seemed to micromanage, always looking over your shoulder and telling you to make sure you remembered to look into so and so as well. It could be bearable on some days and other days, you had a ringing in your ear by the time you had left your office. Sometimes his “pointers” just seemed condescending. Not wanting to be a bother though, you always nodded along and acted like whatever he had told you to do was something you hadn’t already planned on doing. It also was apparent to you that you did want to make him proud, for some reason. You had an idea of what his real work was, but still, you wanted to get his approval.

Jackson had made note of your unwavering subservience, granted he had picked up on it before you were even aware of it. Reading people was something he had a great strength in, he could see your weaknesses from the moment you walked into this job, full of naivety. He had no issue whatsoever using this to his advantage, he knew you wouldn’t say no. On a rather plain morning, he had come into your office, and you expected the same sort of run-down as usual. You expected a stack of papers and a few names as a week’s worth of work but he had a different idea of how you would be working that week.

“Good morning,” Jackson said as he stepped into your office. “I have a proposition for you.” He could be blunt, never leaving too much for interpretation. 

“Uh huh…”You said with a lifted brow. “What is it?”

“Nothing you can’t manage, I’m sure…” He replied, slinking over to your desk and taking a look at what you decorated it with, which wasn’t much more than a few cups of pens and pencils. Keeping pictures of your family here just seemed like a bad idea. “It’s simple, you won’t even need to do anything for the most part. You’ll just be accompanying me on a mission, it is as easy as it sounds.”

How vague.

“Oh…” You said and nervously glanced over at him. “Uh… Why? Don’t we have someone you want me to look into? I do better with paper honestly.”

“Come on,” He said with a little grin. “It would be good for you to get out of this stuffy office and get some real experience in this field. You don’t want to be a paper pusher forever, right?”

“I guess, but I’m pretty comfortable right here.” You stammered for a reason to reject this offer. “I probably won’t be very helpful. Like I said, I do better with paper.” You added, hoping he would get that you weren’t interested. At that point, it would just seem too involved. 

“Don’t tell me no,” Jackson said, putting on his best charming smile. “Your work here is greatly appreciated, it’s only fair we give you a chance to learn how things are done outside the office.”

Suddenly it really felt like you couldn’t tell him no. He has a way about him to make plans seem like they were your idea all along. Or maybe that was just your budding attraction towards him speaking. You didn’t like to admit it but you did see him as more than just your cocky higher-up. Either way, you swallowed your spit and sighed.

“What would I be doing?” You asked after some initial hesitation.

“It’s simple, you should be able to keep up.” He said with a layer of condensation. “You’ll come with me to a gala, one of our clients really can’t stand the man throwing the party. You’ll be a buffer of sorts, if we just play the part of a wealthy couple going there together it’ll be less likely we draw any suspicion. Power in numbers as they say.”

“And then what? Are we going to look into the guy and try to find information on him?” You asked cautiously.

“The next part isn’t something you should concern yourself with.” He explained. “All you need to do is come with me dressed in some pearls.” He added with a small grin.

You let out a tired sigh, already feeling bad. It just seemed much worse to go out with Jackson and play into this whole mission. It was wrong, you knew that, but when he mentioned a bonus, you felt inclined to say yes and swallow that diminished sense of conscience you had remaining.

In the days prior to the party, you had a few errands to run to ensure you would blend in and most importantly, not piss off Jackson. You knew he held a certain standard for these types of missions and because of this, you put effort into achieving these silent standards he placed over you. As a way to prepare, you learned what the demographic was going to be, bought a new and much too expensive dress, and watched Sex and the City. The whole party was a very WASP-y upper-class event, you figured the TV show would be a good way to base your mannerisms for the event.

The night of the party you could safely say that it was the best you had looked in a long time. Your dress fits in all the right places without being over the top. You knew you looked the part, you just had to be as inconspicuous as possible. Jackson, being as thorough as he normally is, already had fake identities for the two of you. A husband and wife who were thought to be wealthy investors. You tried not to think too hard about it but you thought the choice was odd. 

The party was just as you assumed, very white collar and white pearls. You and Jackson made it your goal to just blend in. Dressed in your incognito you both made it through the party with fake stories of your identity rehearsed and studied. He stayed as charming as always, making witty comments to other guests and being polite. You mostly stayed quiet, afraid to say the wrong things and get odd glances and whispers thrown your way. To anyone else, you and Jackson looked like the prototype of some rich couple, his hand on your waist with you smiling and nodding to every word that left his mouth. 

As the night aged, Jackson excused himself and left you with a woman who wore a lipstick shade too bright that drew attention to her large teeth. Not having him guiding you through conversations made you feel a little anxious, you had to rely wholly on your judgment and try to not reveal anything about yourself if it wasn’t necessary. The woman with the large teeth didn’t notice your apprehension to conversation, instead, she rattled on about some trip to Aspen she had gone on with her husband and children a year or so ago. Or maybe it was a trip to Lake Tahoe. You weren’t keeping up with the conversation as much as you got more nervous the longer Jackson was gone. It was a strange sense of abandonment. You eventually excused yourself, asking for directions to the bathroom and then disregarding them to find Jackson elsewhere. 

The house the party was in was nothing short of a mansion. As you walked through the quiet upstairs you took note of every detail of wealth. Paintings from famous artists, pristine floors, and how the whole upstairs seemed to be a labyrinth of fine living. Even the fucking trim on the walls seemed to be custom-made. You could only survey the state of the house for so long as you walked through the halls, searching for your escort. Each time you passed a room with its door closed, you pressed your ear to it for a moment, waiting to hear something. The last door at the end of the hall was your last bet, you pressed your ear to it and did hear something. It sounded like a struggle.

Two people, or how it sounded, were scraping against each other, their movements were erratic till you heard a loud thud followed by Jackson's voice. He was threatening someone, his words full of cruelty. The other voice, a man, had managed out some pleading words before there was a muffled sound, you thought it could’ve been a gunshot, but it was indiscernible. Then there was silence. A silence that made you sick. As you listened with your ear pressed to the door, it was opened by Jackson and he pushed you inside quickly.

“Goddamnit.” He hissed at you as he pulled you in by the wrists and slammed the door behind you. He stood directly in front of you. “I almost blew your brains out!” 

He looked like he was about to lose his temper. You were too distracted by the blood coming from the man who he had presumably just shot and by the gun in his hand. The man, who you thought was the man this whole mission was for, was undoubtedly dead. An expertly shot bullet wound between his eyes gave you a feeling that this was obviously not Jackson’s first time. You always thought you would’ve screamed in a moment like this, instead, you just stayed wide-eyed and white in the face. Jackson paid no mind to the man he had just murdered, he was all but focused on you. 

“Well come on,” He sighed. “We gotta go.” 

You were too frazzled by what you had seen to not comply. Jackson led you back downstairs to the now thawing-out party by the wrist and made your way to the foyer, sending anyone who noticed you two quick smiles and waves. The driver was already there in the valet, Jackson practically shoved you into the back seat and followed after you. Your entire body felt tense, all of this was too much. Quickly you realized this wasn’t the life for you. You didn’t cry though, you didn’t do anything besides look in front of you and take shallow breaths. The driver was silent as Jackson made a call, murmuring how it was done and there were no complications. He ended the call and looked at you curiously.

“You look like you just saw a ghost.” He noted. 

“I’ve felt better.” You mumbled. He let your words sink in and then patted you on the shoulder.’

“Sounds like you need a drink,” Jackson replied with his boyish grin that you were beginning to see too often. “Let's stop at my place for a nightcap.” 

You didn’t have the time to accept or reject his offer as he told the driver that there would only be one stop. As upset as you were, you were doing better than you ever would’ve expected. There were no tears or refusal, you accepted everything so quickly. The car drove swiftly and the sky from the window looked black as midnight approached. The moon was covered by lazy clouds that clung to it, streetlights taking its place as a light source instead. 

By the time you had pulled in front of his place, a quaint little cabin far from anyone, you had fully accepted what you had taken part in. You still had the tightly tied knot in your stomach but it was no use trying to argue with your conscience-laden mind. Once you were in his home, you sat down on one of the barstools at his kitchen’s island and watched as he made you some vodka-based drink. He was right, you did need a drink. Desperately. 

“I have to say,” Jackson chimed as he poured some mixer into your glasses. “The dress was very fitting for the event. You played the rich socialite part well.” You muttered a thanks and as he sat the drink in front of you, he looked at you with a raised eyebrow, like he was trying to figure you out. “What’s wrong?”

“You killed a man.” You whispered hesitantly. 

“That’s what this whole deer in the headlights look you have is about?” He asked, amused, took a sip of his drink, and then cleared his throat. “Listen, it was nothing personal. It’s about being a professional. You should know that.”

“It just seems wrong.” You replied not looking him in the eyes which caused him to sigh a bit annoyed. 

“You need to lighten up.” He told you with no hint of joking either. “Now, just take a drink.” And you did as he said, like most things. 

You drank in silence, not a single word coming from either of you till the glasses had nothing but a few ice cubes in them. The air around was tense, and as much as you accepted the whole ordeal, this sense of guilt and dread hung over your head. Jackson picked up on it and walked towards you, standing in front of you as you sat on the edge of the bar stool. 

“You don’t need to feel bad.” He told you. “You didn’t even do anything, you’re just the witness.”

“I think I would be considered an accessory after the fact.” You added grimly. 

“You know,” He said as he rested one elbow on the counter. “You’re much too talented with this work to be so tense. You had a special knack for this sort of thing, something I find highly admirable.”

“I don’t think I’m right for this sort of work.”

“Don’t say that.” He shook his head and then put a less-than-comforting hand on your shoulder. “You have it in yourself to do great things, trust me. Especially if we work together as well as we did tonight. You just did whatever I said. I like that about you.”

You blushed. Goddamnit, but you blushed. 

“I just… It’s hard for me to wrap my head around what you do and how you don’t feel bad about it.” You sighed and turned your head to the side, looking at the wooded view outside his home.

“There’s no use in being over-emotional.” He told you with that sly grin. “Just be a professional about this and you’ll be fine.” 

You didn’t think you were over-emotional, especially for what you had just witnessed. Depending on your persuasion, it would’ve been more than okay for you to act totally hysterical but with Jackson's hand on your shoulder you found yourself more susceptible to his words. As artificial as you were sure they were. There was something calming about him though, even for what he did. You just felt like he was right, like everything was going to be okay. Just like he said.

“There’s nothing to worry about.” He said calmly, slightly massaging your shoulder. “I just need you to keep being good, alright? You did so well.”

You nodded, feeling a little embarrassed by how red your face must’ve been. He just looked amused with how this whole thing was turning out. You were sure he knew about that attraction you had for him that you tried to keep so hidden. It was honestly hard for you to feel bad for that man who he had shot. After all, you didn’t do it, and plus, he was just some rich asshole. As you had your inner monologue, Jackson’s hand moved from your shoulder and to your cheek, bringing your eyes up to his. You bit the inside of your cheek and expected him to reject you, now that it was obvious you had some misguided feelings of attraction towards him. You expected him to toy with you, perhaps say some kind words, and then ship you out in a cab all alone. 

“You looked beautiful tonight,” He said quietly. “If that’s all consolation.”

“Thank you.” You whispered. If he was just going to toy with you, you would put this night out of your mind, you decided. You would never think of it again, instead, you already figured you would chalk it up to adrenaline and a mixed drink. His fingertips lightly grazed your cheek, eventually falling to the corner of your mouth. 

“You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” He cooed with a hint of smugness. “You tell me you don’t like what you’re doing for me but yet you do it.”

“I just needed money…” You started to say but he cut you off abruptly.

“I bet you would suck my cock if I asked.”

The way he said it made you stop speaking and just look at him. You couldn’t talk, you must’ve lost the ability to speak right around when you lost your rational thinking. The words held heavy in the air, you could only think about doing what he told you. After a moment, you stopped thinking about any repercussions and just asked.

“Do you want me to?” You asked hesitantly. 

If he says no, you could excuse yourself to the bathroom and then fling yourself out of the window. You thought that would be the only sensible thing to do.

“I knew it.” Jackson chuckled and then his finger traced your bottom lip. There was no motion except his finger for a moment. He looked at you with a shit-eating grin, just for anticipation. “I’m waiting.”

“Right,” You said and nervously lowered yourself to your knees. “Right…” You added quietly. 

With nervous hands fumbling with his belt, you had gotten him free from his confines and pulled down his boxers. He was much bigger than you would’ve thought, you had seen his bulge in the dress pants he normally wore but that was nothing but an understatement to how he was underneath. You wet your lips before you parted your lips to take him. You took as much as you could with your mouth and used your hands on what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Without any warning, Jackson grabbed a handful of your hair and pushed you all the way down, his cock hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag in surprise. 

“Fuck,” He groaned above you. “You look so pretty like this. So pretty with my cock shoved down your throat.”

You had never deep-throated someone before, yes you had given men blow jobs, but you were always under the assumption that the whole point of a man having his cock stuffed in your mouth was because it was attractive to see a woman working fully for their pleasure and have stimulation without the same feeling of a pussy. This wasn’t the case though, Jackson kept his dick deep in your throat, holding it there as he looked at you with your reddening cheeks and tears threatening to spill. You couldn’t assume this was as good as a usual blow job, it seemed psychological more than anything. Jackson, it seemed, just wanted to see how submissive you were for him. Seeing just how long he could keep you still with your mouth around his dick. 

You breathed through your nose as he kept his grip firm on your hair. His breathing was still for a moment before he pulled you off and then shuttered. With his grip still harsh, he pulled you back to his cock, forcing your mouth open with it and guiding your head up and down him. A bit of drool escaped from the corners of your mouth and left a trail down to your chin. He grunted at the look of you and eventually pulled you off completely and coughed as you caught your breath. 

“Get up.” He told you as he lifted you by the bicep, forcing you to your feet. 

You were still recovering from your rough blow job when he bent you over the counter, ass up, and fondled your waist and hips, feeling your body through the dress you wore. Your entire head was spinning, mostly from how fast this was all going and how once you were sure that any sort of contact from Jackson was going to be reserved for your late-night fantasies. It was humiliating how you were so willing for everything he put you through. Without a warning, he lifted your dress and bunched it around your waist, and then brought his hand to toy with your cunt through your underwear. 

“Lace?” He mused as he touched you. “You were just hoping this would happen, huh? If I had known how much of a slut you were for me I would’ve bent you over a desk at work already.”

“I’m not a slut.” You defended meekly as you desperately pushed your pelvis a bit closer to where you wanted him to touch.

“No?” He chuckled. “You’re no fucking Madonna, that's for sure.” 

Your witty response was caught in the back of your throat as you felt him push your panties to the side and work a finger into your cunt. You bit your lip enough for it to bleed if you had sunk your teeth down long enough. He watched as you tried to stay composed as he fucked you with his fingers, collecting your slick with curled fingers. Every pump of his fingers was driving you insane. 

“Please,” You moaned. “Please fuck me.” 

“Needy little thing.” He whispered, “Be patient for me, alright?”

You nodded, letting him continue to pump his fingers in and out of your now-soaked pussy. You could’ve cried when he finally paid attention to your swollen clit. After a few circles around your clit, you came and he looked at you with a mocking grin. Like a Cheshire cat. 

“You really get worked up for me, don’t you?” He teased and then leaned over you to speak directly into your ear, giving you goosebumps with each word as you came off of your orgasm. “You’re gonna come on my cock too. I’m gonna fuck you till you’re sore.”

Your stomach flipped with anticipation, rutting your ass against his crotch. How he quickly turned you into this moaning whore was beyond you. All you could do was try not to moan from the simplest of movements. Like when he stripped your panties off and held your hips in place with his rough hands. When the head of his cock was between your folds you could’ve melted on the spot. As he pushed into you, a wanton moan escaped your lips much to his pleasure. His fingernails dug into your hips as he pushed his cock fully into you. With a bit of strain, he found a rhythm as he fucked you. His grunts of approval could’ve made you come alone, but you held off. 

With his body weight pushed against you, keeping you secured to the edge of the counter, you had very limited movements. Jackson wanted it like that, he wanted you fully enraptured and to only feel him. Eventually, his movements had gotten quicker, less focused on making this enjoyable for you and more focused on his own pleasure. His hips rammed into you, and you cried out in somewhat pain and somewhat pleasure. A string of curses and cries escaped your lips and yet he kept his increasingly faster speed on you. 

“So fucking tight.” He choked out. “I should just hire you as my own personal whore, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Just fucking me as a job?” 

“Fuck,” You cried out, tears now pooling down your cheeks in a sloppy manner. “Jackson, I’m gonna come.” You warned and then he brought his hand to your clit, quickly bringing his middle and ring finger to it in almost over-stimulating circles. 

“Wanna feel you come on my cock, wanna see you come for me.” 

His filthy words were just what you needed to come. You cried out in ecstasy, your moans just as filthy as his as he orgasmed after you. His come seeped out of your pussy after he pulled out and let you both catch his breath. You slowly rose from the counter, straightening your back out after being put in that position. With a nervous look, you glanced at Jackson who looked very pleased with himself. 

“I should really take you out on missions more often.” He told you and you suddenly felt that it was all worth it, in a fucked up way. 

#Jackson Rippner x reader #Jackson Rippner smut #Red Eye (2005)

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

maybe a drabble of sub!neil lewis? 🤭 and i adore your work 🫶🫶🫶

you’re so kind!!! thank u for reading!!! i love me some sub!neil so this was great!!

You sighed, slipping into bed after a long, fatiguing day of work. Y’know, shit boss, too much workload, bad pay — you were barely holding on, but you were still holding on there, grip almost deadly. 

Neil had long gone to bed - perks of being his own boss, you guessed, able to close up whenever he wanted and relax at home. Doing the exact same thing he was doing at Gumshoe Video, but still. 

You pressed a light kiss to his cheek, curling into his arms, and he lightly stirred, mumbling something vaguely resembling “hi, honey”, before going still once more. 

Your own eyes were just starting to droop, sleepiness quickly overtaking you, when you felt something, hot and thick against your inner thigh. Neil’s hands had gone stationary at his side, not pulling you closer to him like he usually did, and when his breathing got more labored as you pressed closer to him, you quickly flipped over to face him.

His eyes were open, heavy-lidded and blinking rapidly, and his hands were curled pathetically into the sheets to stop himself from touching you. Your gaze coursed over his form, amused: sure, you and Neil hadn’t had sex in a while on account of your taxing job, but you could live. However, it seemed Neil couldn’t, the greedy little thing. 

“What’s this?” You murmured lowly, your finger trailing down to his cock, which was hard and desperate for you. He bucked, slightly, at the minuscule touch, and an embarrassed groan slipped from his lips at the instinctual action.

“M’sorry, I… you’ve been coming home late and…” Neil gulped, sentence dying on his tongue when you slipped your hand into his boxers shorts, curling around his cock. 

“Go on,” you said softly, “tell me why you’re this hard, pressed up against me like some perv in a train.”

Neil pouted, something you could just barely see in the moonlight spilling from your sheer bedroom curtains, but he shuddered and continued. “Can’t… I can’t do it by myself…”

“Why not?” You teased, your thumb swiping past his slit and collecting pre-come from the aching head. Your action drew a mewl out of Neil, needy cock bobbing into your touch. 

“Please,” Neil pleaded desperately. He’d gotten to the point in this accidental celibate period where he was terribly sensitive, and could probably come if you just stroked him for a few more moments. “It - it… m’hand doesn’t feel as good as you… nothing does.”

You hummed. “So, you don’t want hands?” you said, dropping your grip from his cock.

“No- no!” Neil whimpered devastatingly, “I just want - you! Your hand, your mouth, your cunt…”

You smirked, rolling over and situating yourself between his thighs. “You have to tell me exactly what you want, baby.”

Neil’s breath hitched, “I want… I - want your… tongue, on me.”

“Atta’boy,” you murmured, before sinking down to his cock, your back arching, hips in the air. “God, you’re really fuckin’ desperate for me, aren’t you?”

“Jus’ need you,” he agreed, quickly losing his patience and practically shoving his cock in your face. 

Your hot breath on his cock made him gasp, movements going still in anticipation, and when your mouth finally enveloped his sensitive length, he moaned, breathy and loud and sounding every bit your little bitch. 

“Warm,” he choked out, head cocking back against the headboard. You chuckled, still making obnoxious slurping noises on his cock, making him feel extremely flustered. 

Your tongue flattened against his underside, cheeks hollowing as you slid him in and out of your mouth. His hands shakily gripped his own thighs, too scared he’d do something wrong and make you stop this long-needed pleasure. 

You thought otherwise, bringing his dominant hand onto your head, as you swiveled your tongue on his tip. “Show me, you fuckin’ loser. Get off the way you like it.”

He barely contained a whine: he wanted you to take control, to have your way with him, not make you do what he wanted. “But - but I…”

“But what?” you said, leaning back and letting his cock leave your mouth. “But I need you to take control of my pathetic, filthy self? But I’m just a stupid fucking whore who can’t even tell my girlfriend what I want? Huh?”

Neil groaned, both at the loss of contacts and your words, squirming in his place on your shared bed. “Please,” he begged again, honestly the only word he felt he could fucking say right now. 

“Such a spoiled fucking pillow princess.” You said that, rolling your eyes, but you went back down on him anyway, relentlessly sliding his cock extremely far down your throat, devouring his length and placing toe-curlingly delicious licks on his head. 

The sudden pleasure made Neil jolt, accidentally deepthroating you, and you stuttered at the action, choking slightly. “M’sorry, m’sorry,” Neil babbled, terrified you’d really get mad this time and fully stop. 

You laughed around his length, surprised he’d realize his wrongdoing so quickly, and instead enacted revenge by going faster, meaner, doing so many things at once Neil couldn’t comprehend each action separately, and could only moan pathetically, melting under your touch. 

When Neil’s breathing got thin, his full moans being replaced with squeaks of overstimulated pleasure, you knew he was close, and reached up under his shirt to toy with his nipples. He was definitely sensitive all over now, and your soft fingertips tweaking his pink buds wasn’t doing anything to calm him: it made him yelp, back arching, tears welling in his eyes at the torturously continual onslaught of pleasure. 

Your hot mouth coating his weeping cock with saliva, gulping down on him, your fingers roughly twisting and pressing at his abused nipples, and the way he just knew you fucking owned him, made Neil come, hips thrusting into your throat as his load shot into your mouth. 

His thick cream coated you, small dribbles slipping out of your mouth and onto your chin, and when he was done you could only grin, relishing in the filthy salty taste of him smeared within you. Neil was panting, crumpled in on himself, hair disheveled, skin clammy and sweaty. 

You swiped his hair out of his face, kissing him gently, “Missed me that much, baby?”

You both made yourselves comfortable in bed once more, and he wrapped his arms around you tightly, wanting you never to leave, not to go to work the next morning and leave him waiting at home, “Missed you more.”

#burnyouwithacigarettelighter #cillian murphy x reader #neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives #sub!neil lewis x reader #sub!neil lewis smut

[cillianhead]

Some sub!Neil Lewis would save my life right now I think 💋😋

Oh my gosh! Ask and you shall receive. I'm so excited this is my first request <3

(Also I'm so sorry if you didn't want this to be smutty, I'd be more than happy to also write some fluffy stuff!)

Pussy-Whipped || Sub!Neil Lewis x Reader

summary: When Gumshoe Video hosts a small Halloween party, Neil can't help but feel disappointed you're not there.

Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+ Minors DNI, pussy eating, vulgar language, possibly poor writing from me (barely edited.), let me know if there is anything else I'm missing!

Neil had gathered a decent sized group of people to have over at the store for Halloween night. It was nothing too major but it was definitely a good sized party. There was plenty of snacks and drinks, couples making out against walls, people debating on whether Christmas was better than Halloween. Really, it was a perfect little party, people were having a great time. Halloween music played, fake cobwebs lined the walls, fake spiders, you know, all that jazz. Later on at Gumshoe Video, there would be a couple of scary movies playing to really celebrate the occasion. Well unfortunately it was missing one key feature.

You.

It left Neil feeling easily irritated and whiny all night. He was all dressed up as Dracula from the 1931 film. The most important piece was missing to him of course. Lucien and Jonathan would tease him for being so grumpy.

"You'd probably give up this store just to see her again, huh?" Lucien was grinning at him, enjoying seeing Neil suffer.

"Shut up, man," Neil just smiled uncomfortably, sick of their teasing, nudging Jonathan with a huff.

"You're pussy-whipped." Jonathan said before Neil slipped into his office, which was strictly off limits during the party.

You had already made plans with some of your friends, weeks prior. Some halloween party that was also a birthday party for a good friend, you promised Neil though that you would show up to the store afterwards. He was starting to doubt you would.

Neil always worried you thought he was too lame or you were way too out of his league. You would roll your eyes every time and just give him a reassuring kiss.

Feeling down, he sat in his office chair, swivelling around and twiddling his thumbs. He missed you, it had been a few days since you had seen each other, both busy with work, he was shaking with anticipation at even the tiniest possibility of seeing you.

To be honest, Neil was a needy little thing. He struggled going even a day or two without seeing you. And oh how fucking his fist could never compare to fucking you. God, even just thinking about your pussy, he could feel his trousers tighten and he threw his head back with a groan.

A zip and a tug could be heard as he slipped his hand down his pants, teasing the tip of his pink cock with his thumb. Whining quietly, precum staining his cotton briefs. Fuck, he didn't expect to be walked in on, touching himself like a pervert.

"Neil?" Your voice. He quickly swivelled his chair back around, facing the doorway to look at you like a deer that had been caught in headlights. Neil just coughed, trying to act casual, trying to pretend he hadn't just been thinking about having your tits in his mouth. But he knew you knew.

"H-Hey!" He looked you up and down, a sheepish smile and flushed cheeks as he looked at what you were wearing. A white corset, laced up tightly, hugging the perfect curves of your body. A sorry excuse of a dress tightly clinging to your skin underneath it, your hair had been pulled down out of the hairdo you had it in previously so it fell messily over your shoulders and white stockings adorned your thighs. He could cum looking at you then and there. He wasn't really sure what you were supposed to be but he didn't really care at this point in time.

"What were you up to, my love?" Sauntering over to him and rounding the table to get closer to him. Neil looked up at you like a lost puppy as you sat down on the edge of the table. The smell of your perfume made him feel like he could pass out, you were intoxicating. "You miss me?" "Yeah... yeah... I did..." Neil nodded dumbly, looking at your pretty lips that he hadn't gotten the chance to taste in oh so long. "Missed you so much, you've all I've been thinking 'bout." You held onto his chin, smiling at him knowingly.

"Looked everywhere for you, thought you'd be out with the rest of the party, Neil baby."

"S-sorry... I just..." His head hung low, feeling embarrassed for being so needy. "I just really missed you... didn't feel like hanging out with any of those people..."

You just kept smiling at him sweetly and his eyes watched as you casually shimmied down your panties, sticky and wet as you tossed them behind you. The skirt of your dress didn't cover the sight of your bare cunt and as you leaned against his desk, spreading your legs for Neil to see better in the low light of his office, he didn't hesitate to dive right in, knowing what to do. Desperate to taste you, like a dog that hasn't eaten in weeks. He moaned at the taste, eyes rolling back in his skull as he was gifted with your wet pussy against his face.

"That's fuckin' it," You moaned, letting your head lean back as he made out with your pussy. "Show me how much you missed me, Neil..." Your mouth was agape, he always ate you out like his life depended on it.

Your fingers in his hair, pushing his face deeper into your soaking core only encouraged him further, causing him to groan into you. Your clit fit perfectly between his pretty lips as you desperately ground your cunt against his face, his nose just perfectly caressing you. His tongue poked inside you, flicking up to the spot where you needed him most.

"God! Fuck... you're such a good boy... so good for me...!" Gasping out. This was all Neil needed, he didn't care if he wasn't allowed to get off for the rest of his life, as long as he had you, to touch and to taste, he didn't care, you were all he needed. The sound of you whimpering loudly made his cock throb, he felt like he was close to cumming himself. Neil always described it as heaven on earth, when you came on his face, he felt like he had accomplished all he was good for. "Want me to cum on your face, pretty?" You let out, sensitive and so turned on seeing Neil down on his knees, looking so content with life as he sloppily ate you up.

"Please..." He mumbled obediently before letting you continue to fuck his face. His tongue was pressed flat against your clit as you came, further wetting his face, what makeup he had on for Dracula now smudged across his face and your inner thighs. He kept slurping your juices up until you tugged his face away. Glistening and a dumb dopey smile on Neil's face was the sight that met you.

"I missed you so much, baby," Still recovering, you leaned down and gave him a gentle loving kiss. His tongue flicked out to the corners of his mouth, licking the juices that were still on his face. "You did so good." He blushed at the praise. You always thought he could never look prettier, red cheeks, big blue eyes, and your cum dripping off of his nose and chin with that big satisfied smile.

"I love you..." He whispered, placing a small kiss on your clit before standing up and connecting your lips once again. "Love you so much..."

-

Hope you enjoyed :)

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