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elliotshelbyjones · 14 days

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I’m still being held hostage by Jack Lowden (obligatory reminder that everyone should watch Slow Horses!) so apologies this series continues to be produced at a semi-glacial pace. We’re almost at the end now though and soon I’ll be able to write them the little Oscars piece I know many of you are waiting for! For now, enjoy! 🤍

Summary: Joining Cillian in LA for the weekend, Mrs M surprises Emily for her birthday.

Warnings: Slight angst, nothing major. Passing allusion to infidelity. A slightly less chaotic than usual Emily and Mrs M moment 🤍

Word count: 2359 PART 9 | SERIES

x. Friday 23rd February

Y/N yawned widely and hit the button on the coffee machine in Cillian’s hotel suite. Apparently this was going to be one of those weeks where she was constantly knackered. The flight from Dublin to LA had gone smoothly and she had tried to nap but it was morning for her and her body hadn’t been feeling very compliant, despite the early start to get to the airport.

Cillian’s parents had arrived the night before to spend some quality time with their grandsons and look after Scout for the weekend, and Brendan, Cillian’s father, had even got up before dawn to give her a lift to the airport. Which was really above and beyond the call of duty, as she’d tried to tell him the night before, but he wouldn’t hear it.

The lock on the hotel door buzzed and Cillian appeared, a broad grin breaking across his face when he saw her.

“Hello you,” he beamed, coming to wrap her in a hug and she let herself melt into his chest, feeling him press a kiss into her hair.

“Hello yourself,” she mumbled into his shirt, squeezing him tightly around his waist.

“Was the flight ok?”

She nodded, reaching up to give him a quick peck on the lips before reluctantly letting him go to stop her coffee from overflowing.

“Is that you done for the day now?” she asked, stirring in a sugar and taking an impatient sip, wincing at the heat.

“Thank fuck,” he nodded, unbuttoning the smart shirt he’d been wearing all day for interviews, giving her a brief glimpse of pale toned stomach, trail of dark hair disappearing into his trousers.

Suddenly she was much less tired.

Abandoning her drink, she followed him into the bedroom where he’d gone to get changed, pulling her tshirt off as she went and shutting the door against any surprise appearances by members of his team.

“What’re you—”

“I missed you,” she mumbled as her lips met his, pushing him so they tumbled onto the bed.

“Oh yeah? How much..?” he grinned, blue eyes dancing cheekily.

“How about I show you?” she grinned back, straddling him as she helped him tug down his trousers.

*****

Emily’s birthday bash was being hosted by the Downeys at their home in Malibu. As Cillian and Y/N’s car pulled up the drive towards the futuristic series of curvaceous buildings, Y/N couldn’t help but goggle at the wealth. It made their, not inexpensive but definitely restrained, detached red brick look like a council house.

“Holy fuck,” she mumbled, staring out the window as they got closer.

Cillian blew out a breath - even though he’d been before, it always caught him by surprise.

“We are so not cool enough to be here,” she added as the car slowed to a stop and she gathered her bag to get out.

“If you’re not, then I’m definitely not,” he agreed, climbing out the other side.

“Ain’t that the truth,” she grinned at him over the gleaming black roof.

The party was already in full swing as they were ushered into the foyer by a smiling member of Robert’s team.

“Wait here,” he said quietly, kissing her cheek, “I’ll make sure the birthday girl has arrived.”

Y/N hung back, keeping out of eyeline, giggles bubbling up inside as she heard her friend’s squeal of delight at seeing Cillian. When he had convinced her to come over for this weekend, they had agreed to keep it a secret, as a birthday surprise for Emily.

In the throng of the party, Susan met him first with a hug, oozing elegance and warmth as she always did.

“Come in, come in,” she beamed as Emily hurried over and Robert joined them in a flurry of hugging.

“Happy birthday,” he smiled, rubbing his hands together apologetically. “I’m afraid your present took a bit of shipping and has only just arrived.”

Emily’s forehead creased in confusion, looking at his very obviously empty hands, and he tried not to meet Downey’s eyes - only he and Susan knew about the surprise, given he felt it would be rude for Y/N to turn up unannounced.

“Shall I go and get it?”

“Yes please!” She flashed a glance around the others. “How intriguing!”

“Alright - close your eyes,” he grinned and instead she rolled them at him. “Ah c’mon, humour me.” With a huff of amused resignation, she closed them. “Make sure she doesn’t peek,” he added to Susan and Robert who were grinning so widely at him that if she was still looking they would undoubtedly have given the game away.

Y/N, who had been listening closely, heard her cue and slipped into the room, meeting him halfway, their fingers intertwining as he led her back across to the group. Stopping in front of Emily, she had to stifle a giggle at the expression on her friend’s face - exasperation clearly fighting with burning curiosity.

“Alright, open them.”

The birthday girl opened her eyes and shrieked so loudly that Downey made a great show of having possibly lost hearing in one ear.

“Surprise!” beamed Y/N, letting Emily attack her with a tight hug. “Happy birthday, gorgeous.”

“What a bloody brilliant surprise,” Emily squealed, squeezing the smaller woman. “The best present he could have got me.” She pulled back, grinning. “I wondered what the fuck he was teasing about last night on Kimmel.”

“Oh, we do have a little something for you too,” smiled Y/N, proffering a little gift bag. “It’s nothing fancy.”

Emily took it gratefully, kissing her cheek and then Cillian’s.

“You didn’t have to, it’s such a treat just to have you here. And you,” she prodded Cillian’s chest, “outdid yourself.” He grinned broadly, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

“But if you’ll excuse me, I’m stealing her for the night - she’s my wife now.”

“Like that’s news,” he chuckled dryly, and Y/N offered him an apologetic smile as Emily pulled her away by the hand to introduce her to her sister.

*****

A couple of hours later, Emily swiped a mostly full bottle of fizz from the bar and hooked her arm through Y/N’s leading her away from the party.

“Where are we going?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder as the noise behind them faded to low hum. “I know you said you were stealing me as your wife tonight, but I think he might draw the line at you actually trying to consummate that.”

Emily cackled, settling down in a beautifully appointed, quiet little sitting room with a view out to the pool area. Guests were milling around in the balmy California evening but from their spot, they could see out without easily being seen.

“Don’t worry, I’d never compromise you like that. Not to mention I think it would make John quite sad.” She grinned, pouring out glasses of fizz. “Not that he wouldn’t understand.”

Y/N laughed and settled next to her, accepting a glass of champagne.

“So, what are we doing here and not at the party?”

Emily finished topping up her own glass and, setting down the bottle, turned to face her properly.

“We’re here so you can tell me what’s wrong.”

Y/N’s widened in surprise. “What do you mean..?”

Emily swallowed the sip she had just taken and sighed.

“Darling, you can pretend all you like but something is off. You can fool most of that lot out there, but not me. So, out with it.”

Y/N took a long drink, the sparkling pops of the fizzy liquid tickling her nose, bubbles bursting on her tongue.

Emily waited quietly as her friend collected herself, clearly wrestling with whether or not to tell her to just mind her own business. Perhaps she had been too pushy… She opened her mouth to apologise for prying when Y/N began to speak.

Slowly she began to pick her way through the weirdness of the last few weeks - the difficulties of him being away so much, their fight, his reassurances, the added complexities of everything with the kids. Everything, up to and including, the moment on the doorstep with Aoife that had been rubbing at the edges of her mind like grains of sand ever since.

Throughout, Emily stayed mostly quiet, just letting her friend unburden herself with the occasional murmur of support.

“I know I’m just being stupid,” Y/N concluded. “Logically, I know it’s not the same but..” She waved her hand, taking a long, fortifying swig of her champagne before her shoulders dropped, free hand landing on her thigh with a quiet thud.

Emily wrapped her fingers around it and squeezed.

“You’re not being stupid. Being apart from the person you love is fucking awful.”

Y/N looked up, meeting her eyes. “Sorry, here’s me babbling on and you have the same thing. And it’s your birthday.” She let out a long breath. “Fuck, I’m sorry Em, let’s go back to the party. You don’t need this.”

She moved fractionally and Emily’s grip on her hand tightened.

“Absolutely not. Stop that.”

“Em..”

“Look, I don’t know Aoife - I’m sure she’s perfectly nice if he married her once upon a time, because he’s not a fool - but do you really think she was warning you out of the goodness of her heart, Y/N?”

Y/N chewed her lip, staring down into her almost empty glass. “Honestly I don’t know. It felt genuine in the moment.” She ran a hand over her hair, fingers digging into her curls for comfort. “We’ve certainly had our moments over the years and I know she has no reason to like me, but maybe..” She sighed heavily. “I don’t know.”

“Well I think she’s fucking with you. I think she knew exactly what she was doing. If we look at what’s happened - you come along and suddenly her husband is blissfully happy elsewhere, and then her kids like you. And then literally that very day, her baby has moved out to live with you. Has chosen you over her, in her eyes. If it was me - not to be harsh, darling - I’d be pissed off. And it’s just all too easy to blame you. And if she knows you at all she knows exactly what will hurt you most - threatening your marriage when it’s clear you’re having to cope with things on your own a lot at the moment.”

She sat back, topping up their glasses.

“But is she so wrong..?” whispered Y/N, staring into her lap as her free hand bunched her skirt.

The heavy base of the bottle hit the tiled floor with a loud clack.

“Yes she fucking is.”

She felt Emily touch her shoulder.

“Listen to me, of course you’re anxious, of course it feels like it could be like before. But in everything you told me, it sounds like he’s smart enough to read the signs this time. And honestly, sweetheart, he is so in love with you.”

Y/N looked across at her, eyes bright with a film of tears.

“Really?”

“Oh my god, yes!” Emily exclaimed. “Look, I know people can be surprising and contrary and all too disappointing. But if he’s ever even looked at a woman other than you, I’d eat my hat. He never shuts up about you.”

Y/N’s face softened and Emily smiled.

“It’s quite annoying actually.”

That managed to pull a quiet, hiccup of laughter from her friend and she scooted closer, wrapping her arm around her shoulders, resting her cheek against her curls.

“Have you talked to him about it?”

Y/N shook her head quickly, wiping away a few escaping tears. She knew how that would go.

“He’d be furious with her - it would be a whole thing. He’s not very…forgiving of her behaviour sometimes.” She sighed. “He doesn’t mean to be but he’s protective after how awful it was at the start - and he just hasn’t been able to shake it.” She toyed with the glass between her hands. “But if I try and bring that up.. let’s just say it doesn’t bring out his best side.”

Emily squeezed her shoulder and pulled back. “Well if she was trying to stir up trouble in my marriage I’m not sure that would bring out the best in me either.”

Y/N turned to look at her. “I just don’t want to make it into a drama. And if she is fucking with me, then seeing him getting all riled up about it would just play into her hands.”

“And there it is,” said Emily, pointing at her, glass balanced elegantly between her fingers. “She wants the reaction. She wants you fretting and going crying to him so he’ll come and make a scene and she can play the victim.”

“I’m not sure that’s very fair…” mumbled Y/N as she took a sip of her drink.

“Fair or not, you need to either shake it off and forget about it, or talk to him. Because whether it was intentional or not, right now, if you’re doubting him at all, she’s winning.”

Y/N nodded slowly, chewing her thumbnail.

“I don’t - doubt him, I mean. I’ve always trusted him, even though friends told me to be careful because of how it started.” She glanced away, cheeks warming with old shame and embarrassment. “I was just worried we weren’t as together as we usually are.

“But you’re right,” she continued, after a moment, straightening and looking at Emily with fresh determination burning in her eyes. “I’m letting her get to me and that has to stop. Her marriage is not my marriage and just because theirs crumbled doesn’t mean mine is going to. Because I’m not going to let it.”

“That’s my girl,” Emily smiled, squeezing her arm. Y/N gave a sharp, resolute nod and knocked back the rest of her glass, grimacing as the bubbles prickled at her throat.

“Fuck.. if I’m a jet-lagged, hungover mess for the SAGs tomorrow, it’s your fault.”

Emily laughed, pushing herself to her feet and holding out her hands to help Y/N up.

“That’s what the glam squad is for, darling.”

Someone mentioned in the comments on the last chapter that she’s just getting in her own head and that was such a perfect observation 🥺 Will she talk to Cillian about it? You’ll just have to come back to find out 😉 As ever, please do come and scream your feelings in all the usual ways 🤍

Masterlist: CILLIAN | LOCKDOWN | MAIN

Tag list: @runnning-outof-time , @zablife , @garrison-girl-08 , @look-at-the-soul , @buttercupsandboys , @notyour-valentine , @elliotshelbyjones , @theshelbyclan , @theshelbyslimited , @pintofsweets , @flyingjosephine-blog , @christinasyellowflowers , @midnightmagpiemama , @l1-l4-deactivated20231226 , @allie131313 , @star017 , @lespendy , @blondie-22 , @dragons-are-my-favorite , @emotionalcadaver , @brummiereader , @alessioayla , @lyarr24 , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @forgottenpeakywriter , @kittycatcait219 , @cybernuttragedy456 , @babaohhhriley , @watersquirtpewpewboomm , @stevie75 , @padfootdaredmetoo , @moral-terpitude , @shaddixlife , @peakyscillian , @majesticcmey (unable to tag) , @rangerelik , @guenievresworld , @margew76 , @camilleholland89 , @woofgocows , @cilliansangel (unable to tag) , @ayomurphys , @elenavampire21 , @elk96 , @scorpiussage , @cillixn , @esposadomd , @grapejuiceblues , @throughgoeshamilton , @polishcrazyone , @shjjpm , @duckybird101 , @maeleeme , @cillmeslowly , @kmc1989 , @nela-cutie , @magicalmushroom0 (unable to tag) , @86luvrs (unable to tag) , @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky (unable to tag)

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elliotshelbyjones · 14 days

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River Cartwright x Charlie Faraday (oc)

Thanks for waiting lovelies and for all those who shared their love for the first part with me - it makes such a difference when people engage so don’t be shy - my anon asks are always open too if you’re too bashful to comment directly 🤍 I hope you enjoy this one too, xxx

Summary: Picking straight up from Part 1, now their feelings are out in the open, River and Charlie waste no time in finally being together.

Warnings: 🔞 Smut! Like basically 95% of the chapter is just soft, fluffy filth. You’re welcome! 🤭 Minors DNI. This two-parter is entirely spoiler free.

Word count: 4261 PART 1 | SERIES

Work Drinks - Pt. 2

They barely made it to the top of the stairs before he had her pressed against the wall again, lips on hers, her fingers knotted in his hair. He groaned quietly into her mouth as she tugged his strawberry blonde strands and warmth pooled between her legs at the sound.

With an effort he pulled back, her lips pink and a little swollen, pupils wide.

“We don’t have to…y’know…” he said a little breathlessly, the message slightly undercut by his thumbs tracing the curve of her breasts beneath her shirt.

“Do you not..?”

The fact she could feel him pressed hard against her suggested otherwise.

“No no - trust me - I want to,” he rushed in reply, stealing another kiss which immediately grew heated, a whine in her throat as, not entirely on purpose, his wandering thumbs brushed across one already peaked nipple. Teeth nipping at his lip, her body rocked into his, chasing friction.

Gasping, they separated, his face clasped between her hands.

“River, will you stop trying to be such a fucking gentleman and just fuck me already?”

He chuckled lowly, unpinning her from the wall. But as he tried to move towards his room she caught his hand.

“Not in there - it smells of boy and you forget I know how often you change your sheets.” Her nose wrinkled. “I’m not sleeping on the bedding you wank in, Cartwright.”

He bobbed his head side to side - she had a point - and followed her into her room, with her clean and superior linens.

As he kicked the door closed behind them, she paused, not feeling quite as brazen as moments earlier. Was this really happening? How many times had she imagined something like this between them? Warmth rushed to her cheeks, her lewd fantasies mortifying in the face of him actually being here in her room.

“You alright?” he asked quietly, coming close, a little unnerved by her sudden silent stillness.

She hadn’t even realised her hands were partially covering her face until his fingertips brushed across the back of them, easing them away.

“We really don’t have to do this…” he ventured again, even though the idea of not made his guts twist. He wanted her so badly it was almost painful, his cock straining against the fabric of his trousers.

Peeking up through her hair, the low light caught the reddish strands, making them glow.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” she murmured, blinking quickly and looking away.

He cradled her face, pushing her hair back, tilting her chin up to make her look at him.

“Same.” He brushed his lips against hers softly. “But that doesn’t mean we have to rush - we have all the time in the world.”

She shook her head slightly, a quiet glow spreading from her chest through her body, illuminating her from within, chasing away the dark vestiges of her anxiety. Slowly her hands crept up to the collar of his shirt, stroking across the soft cotton and up to graze along his neck.

“I need you,” she whispered.

He almost came in his pants.

Tugging lightly, she brought his mouth back to hers, the softness quickly being replaced by something altogether much needier. She fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, craving the feeling of his skin as he hooked his hands under the hem of her jumper and dragged it over her head, leaving her exposed to him.

Shucking his shirt to the floor, he followed as she dropped to the bed, shuffling into the middle, doing her best to hide her chest behind her arms.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled, gently prising her limbs away, and she flushed with a strange combination of embarrassment and delight as his mouth traced a path from her lips to her jaw, and down her chest. With a quick glance up, meeting her eyes, he closed his lips around the stiff peak of her breast, teasing the sensitive bud with his tongue, smirking as she swore and her back arched up against his touch.

Sucking gently, he released it with a pop. When he blew lightly against the slick pebbled flesh, she let out a quiet keening moan, her hips rolling meaningfully against his, the grinding against his cock making him groan and he nipped her breast with his teeth in reply.

“Fuck, River…” she whimpered, hands roaming his back, his sides, nails dragging over his skin and making him shiver as he turned his attention to her other nipple.

“Please...” she gasped needily, hands now circling the waistband of his trousers.

He leaned up to kiss her again, full and desperate, tongues and teeth battling as he felt her pop the button and ease the zip of his fly down. Trying not to get in her way as she palmed him over his clothes, he ran a hand down her body, bypassing her pyjamas entirely to run his fingers over her cotton-covered pussy. Pressing against her slit he could feel her desire already dampening her underwear. As he rubbed small, experimental circles against her clit, her hands - now delving into his own underwear - stuttered to a stop as she gasped against his mouth.

“You’re so wet for me already,” he grinned, gently hooking her pants to the side, eagerly watching her as he ran a finger through her folds. She twisted her face away, cheeks flaming with embarrassment, but couldn’t prevent the almost pornographic noise that left her throat as his fingertips found her clit properly, rolling slickly over it. She clapped a hand over her mouth in horror and he laughed, pulling it away with his free hand.

“Oh no, don’t do that, I want to hear all of those.” He pressed a little more firmly on the little bundle, eliciting another uncontrollable whimper. “Just like that.” His blue eyes, close to hers, were darker than she had ever seen them, pupils blown wide with need.

He watched with something like fascination as he pressed lightly against her tight entrance, drinking in the way her eyes widened and her teeth trapped her lower lip in anticipation.

“I want to see you,” he mumbled, pulling away, to her mild confusion because the feeling of his fingers teasing against her cunt was pulling the majority of her attention. Whining indignantly as his hand disappeared, she propped herself up on her elbows to complain just as he kicked off his own trousers, briefly giving her a better view of the not inconsiderable bulge in his boxers. Thus distracted, he caught her a little unawares as he dragged her own lower layers off in one movement.

Settling between her legs, she almost forgot to be embarrassed at being completely naked in front of him, as his large hands pressed her thighs apart, opening her glistening folds to him.

“Fucking hell…” he breathed, air rushing warmly over her sensitive skin, making her squirm. Lightly, he trailed his tongue along her slit, her head falling back to the covers as he glided the tip over her swollen clit.

“Fuck… River…I—”

Her words died on her lips as he wrapped his around her clit, sucking gently, tongue rolling across it as he pushed her legs further apart. Sparks burst behind her eyelids as he lapped against her, teasing just enough to send glimmers up her spine but not enough to send her over the edge, his stubble deliciously rough against her sensitive skin. Her fingers knotted in his hair, hips bucking to meet his face until a heavy forearm pushed her down into the mattress, the controlling action almost enough to make her cum on his tongue.

But when his fingers began toying with her opening again, first one fingertip, then two, until she was desperately trying to bear down on them, she could barely hold back. She’d imagined his hands on her - those long fingers inside her - for years. Whimpering breathless pleas, she begged him for more, feeling the curve of his lips against her as finally he slid two deep inside her plush, wet heat.

“Oh my god… shit…” she hissed, tugging at his hair until he groaned, the sound reverberating against her clit. Trying to ignore the throb of his cock, he curled his fingertips, searching and seeking…

“FUCK!” she practically yelled as he connected with the spot inside that made her legs turn to jelly and electricity shoot through her veins.

Flattening his tongue against her clit he looked up, watching as her face contorted in pleasure, the fingers of the hand not buried in his hair rolling and pinching her nipple. Her walls fluttered around his fingers as he worked against the soft spot inside, her arousal dripping down to his palm.

Panting, she could feel the coil inside tightening, threatening to spring free of her control at any moment. Every brush of his tongue, the fullness of him stretching her open, sent bright bolts of pleasure coursing through her. She could hear herself babbling, whining pleas and curses mingled with his name, as he pushed her closer and closer, the prickle of his stubble almost painful against her clit but she never wanted it to end. Without warning, he sucked hard on the little bundle and her world exploded, an almost silent cry in her throat as pure, raw pleasure tore through her, lights blinding and sparkling across her vision.

He had to catch her as her thighs tried to clamp around his head and suffocate him, her body arching from the bed, her climax coating his tongue. Fuck, had anyone ever tasted this sweet? He knew right then that he would never, ever, get enough of her like this.

Lapping more gently, he took what she gave, smirking as her body jolted with every graze of his tongue against her over-sensitive nerves. Not removing his fingers, he wiped his chin with his free hand and shifted to lie next to her, catching her mouth with his. She could taste herself in his kiss and he felt the shudder of desire it sent to her core, walls tightening around his lazily moving digits.

“I think I could watch you do that all fucking day,” he grinned, robbing her of a reply as he swiped against her gspot, her mouth falling open in a gasp instead. He brushed his nose against hers, eyes large and blue in her vision as he began moving them with more purpose again. “In fact, I think I’d like to see you do it again… now,” he mumbled, voice thick with gravelly desire. He began fucking her harder, working her gspot with an almost vicious fervour until she was gasping and whimpering, hands scrabbling at his shoulders.

“Fuck.. River.. just there.. just like that.. fuckfuckfuckfuck…”

“Cum for me,” he commanded in an almost growl, ducking his head to run his teeth over her nipple and she unraveled instantly, hands over her face at the intensity.

“Good girl,” he grinned as his movements slowed to a stop, and she shakily peeked up at him between her fingers.

“No need to look so pleased with yourself,” she grumbled quietly, pushing her hair back from her flushed face.

Sliding his fingers out, his grin only widened at her involuntary whimper at the loss.

“Oh really? I think I have a lot of reasons to be pretty pleased with myself right now.” He waved his fingers, covered in the evidence of his prowess, at her before making a show of popping them in his mouth.

Her thighs squeezed together at the sight. It was possible her lewd fantasies hadn’t been entirely inaccurate after all.

She ran a hand over the straining bulge in his underwear and his mouth fell open, a low groan slipping out. “How about you stop showboating and fuck me, hmm?”

His lips crashed into hers as she helped him push his boxers away, his face slipping to her neck as she wrapped a hand around this achingly hard shaft.

“Fuck..” he mumbled thickly into her shoulder, his hips stuttering slightly into her fist as she stroked him too gently for the length of time he’d been waiting.

“Not so cocky now,” she chuckled breathily into his ear, only to gasp as he pressed his thumb against her clit. Raising his head, he met her eye, a serious expression painting his flushed features.

“Do we need..?”

She shook her head quickly.

“I’m all good if you are.”

With a brisk nod he shifted to hover above her, pressing his forehead to hers as she teased his tip through her slick folds. His eyes slid closed for a second as she helped ease him against her tight opening.

“River…” she whispered and he opened them, her eyes wide, grey-blue eyes staring up at him, a slight wiggle of her hips begging him to go further. “Please.”

With a groan, he pushed into her, the soft, velvety heat of her enveloping his cock, making his head spin. She hissed quietly as he stretched her open, wider than his fingers had tried to prepare her for.

“Are you alright?” he mumbled, breath coming in short, quick gasps, doing his best to let her settle around him.

“Oh my fuck yes,” she half-laughed in a rush of air. “Please, please…”

She didn’t have to finish her sentence - which was fortunate because she hadn’t formulated much beyond begging - before he began to move his hips, rolling into her with deep strokes that took her breath away. Bracketing her head with his arms he kissed her, swallowing her moans as he slid almost all the way out only to drive back into her hard.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned as he trailed kisses down her neck, sucking lightly. “So… fucking… tight.” He punctuated his words with sharp thrusts that made her yelp and grip his shoulders harder, her nails digging into his skin. Curling a hand into his hair, she dragged his mouth back to hers in a sloppy, breathless kiss, her hips rising to meet his movements, chasing more of him.

He shifted, hooking an arm under her knee and pulling her leg towards her chest, allowing him to slide even deeper. The change of angle had him brushing her gspot with every movement and she couldn’t seem to get air into her lungs, plaintive cries slipping from her lips as he drove into her more quickly.

“Let go,” he murmured against her lips, feeling the telltale quivering of her walls around his length. Snapping harder into her, his eyes closed as her body squeezed even more tightly around him. But he quickly forced them open again, desperate to see the first time he made her come apart like this. “You look so fucking beautiful when you do.”

Heat rushed to her already flushed face and she twisted away from him, the arrowing of his hips sending her hurtling towards the edge of the precipice.

“Don’t hide from me, Charlie,” he panted in breathless gasps, stilling his movements. “I want to see you.” She pulled herself back to meet his eye as his hand came to cup her face, thumb running over her cheek. “You’re so pretty when you cum for me,” he smiled wolfishly and he felt her body react, the wild fluttering of her cunt around him almost having the unintended consequence of sending him over the edge.

“Don’t tease,” she mumbled, moaning softly as he tried to get himself together and his cock flexed deliciously where he was seated deep inside her.

“I’m not.” He leaned down, kissing her so chastely it was as if he wasn’t currently filling her to the brim. “You’re perfect.” She rolled her eyes and he flexed again - deliberately this time - making her gasp. “Don’t look at me like that, you are. I can’t believe it’s taken this fucking long to get you into bed. I still can’t quite believe you’re being stupid enough to let me.”

With a quiet sigh of laughter and a shake of her head, she clasped her hands around his neck, pulling his lips back to hers, rolling her hips up into him.

“Make me cum, River,” she mumbled against his ear as his stubble scratched across her neck, teeth scraping lightly at her words. Quickly picking up the pace again he dragged his heavy length against her sensitive walls, snapping back into her so hard, her breasts bounced beneath his chest. She wrapped her legs around his hips, feet pressed into his lower back, urging him deeper.

“Harder… jesus River.. just there.. fuck..” she begged, whining as he complied, the wet sounds of her desperation filling the room, her plush cunt sucking him back in greedily each time he buried himself in her.

“Shit, Charlie, I can’t—” he grunted, head spinning with the tight press of her walls around him and she unravelled with a cry. He couldn’t hold back against the squeezing, spasming, vice-like grip around his cock. As she was lost to the weightless sea of bliss rushing over her, his hips drove forward hard one final time, stuttering to a stop as with a guttural groan he spilled deep inside her.

For a moment he couldn’t think - all thought replaced with light and warmth and sheer bloody relief, his racing heartbeat whooshing in his ears. Slowly he became aware that his face was buried in her shoulder, the soft coastal scent of her perfume filling his nose, her quivering arms and legs locked tightly around his body.

Struggling against her grip he managed to pull back to look at her, face pink, clashing with her auburn hair. A shy smile pulled at her lips.

“Hi,” he smiled back, a breathless chuckle slipping out with it.

“Hi yourself.”

He brushed his lips against hers and she let him claim her, mouths moulding together so perfectly it was as if they had always been meant to. Two pieces of the same puzzle.

“I love you, River,” she said quietly, arms looped around his neck, fingers playing with his hair. His heart stuttered in his chest as he took in the soft, serious look in her eyes. There were barely a handful of people that he trusted in this life, but she had always been one of them.

“I think I love you, too,” he replied hesitantly, leaning in to kiss her again. But she dodged his advance with a small frown.

“You think??”

He pulled back, a little flustered. “Well this is all a bit new for me, give me a fucking chance! I only found out tonight that apparently the idea of you with anyone else makes me homicidal.”

She started to laugh and he slid out of her, shifting to lie beside her. Immediately she tucked into his side, fingers running in lazy patterns across the planes of his chest, tracing the jut of his collarbone as they lay in contented silence for a moment.

“I love you,” he said more confidently, looking down as she turned her face towards him. “I think I have for fucking years. I was just too stupid to realise it.”

She ran the backs of her fingers over his stubbled cheek, thumb stroking across his slightly kiss-swollen lips.

“Well, you are pretty stupid.”

“Outrageous - they don’t let stupid people into MI5.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t they? I mean, Spider’s there so they can’t be that choosy.”

He screwed up his face. “Ok rule one of this relationship - can we please not talk about Spider when we’re in bed?”

A smirk danced on her lips as she propped herself up on her elbow.

“Relationship..?”

He coloured, panicking slightly. “Well.. yeah… I mean.. I thought..?” The smirk broke into a grin and he groaned. “You’re funny.”

“Funnier than you,” she chucked, kissing him slowly. “So it’s official then? We’re doing this..?”

He pushed her hair back behind her ear, cupping her head in a large palm.

“Makes sense. I mean, you’re already cleared by the Service so it takes a lot of the hassle out of it.”

Before she could object, he pulled her back into a kiss, though she managed to get in several well deserved slaps to his chest before he rolled her over, pinning her beneath him.

“Prick.”

“You love it,” he smiled. She grumbled and he kissed her again, deepening it until she was quietly moaning into his mouth.

“I love you, Charlie,” he murmured as he let her come back up for breath.

She cupped his face between her hands and studied him for a moment, blue eyes earnest and sincere, strawberry blonde fringe flopping across his forehead. Her heart swelled in her chest, as a whole dance troop of butterflies wearing clogs did the can-can in her stomach.

This was real. This was happening. This wasn’t just a fantasy - lewd or otherwise.

“I love you, too.”

*****

3 weeks later

Tiggy slid along the old burgundy leather bench seat next to him, close enough that he could smell her perfume. The warmth of her body radiating across the small gap between them.

“Cartwright,” she smiled, brushing her long dark hair back over her shoulder, eyes quickly flicking up and down his form.

Oh fuck, Charlie was right, maybe Tiggy was trying to fuck him.

“Where have you been hiding?” She gave him a slow cat-like smile, fingers trailing over his arm. He swallowed quickly.

He’d got to the pub long after the others, having been last to face the debriefing of their most recent assignment. Duffy had seemed to take an uncomfortable amount of pleasure in questioning him for much longer than any of the others. By the time he caught up with the rest, they were already well on their way, the exhaustion and exhilaration of a job well done aiding the booze in its swift ascent to their heads’.

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming…” Her fingers wrapped around his bicep, her lips coming closer to his ear and he caught a whiff of wine on her breath. “I thought maybe we could celebrate together,” she murmured.

Clearing his throat quickly, he tried to pull away. “Tiggy… I—” he started but she cut him off.

“What’s the matter, River..?” she teased, fingertips creeping up to his chin, drawing a nail across his stubble, more of a beard now really after three days with no time for anything except work.

Not far from their table, the door of the pub opened and there was no denying how his face lit up at the sight of the person who entered.

“You have got to be kidding me,” grumbled Tiggy, drawing back and folding her arms. “Her??”

But River barely heard her, quickly shimmying out from behind the table to meet Charlie in a tight hug.

“Urgh,” she complained, as he squeezed her against his chest. “When did you last shower??”

The rumble of his laugh flowed through her and she held him a little tighter. No matter how many times he went on ops and came home safe, she was always anxious. Days on end with no time or permission to contact her. The waiting was always excruciating and to compensate she had buried herself in work. Which is why she was still in town at eight o’clock at night when the text that he had just been released from The Park came through. Barely stopping to gather her things, she had raced to meet him.

“Did you save the world?” she asked quietly as she drew back, a smile dancing on her lips.

“Single-handedly, as usual,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss her.

“Oh fucking what?!” exclaimed Spider coming back from the bar, hands laden with drinks. “I thought you were ‘just friends’, Cartwright??”

River didn’t look away from her, a giggle contained by her bitten lip, mirth lighting up in her eyes. How had he possibly been stupid enough not to realise how he felt about her for so many years? Maybe she was right and he really wasn’t as smart as he thought he was.

“Seems not,” he grinned, pecking her lips again. Slowly he turned his attention to the disgruntled man beside them.

“Actually, mate, I think I owe you a thank you.”

Spider’s scowl turned to a grimace of confusion. “And why the fuck is that?”

He slipped his arms around Charlie’s waist, pulling her closer and glancing down with a cheeky smile.

“Because it was the shock of seeing a prick like you trying to have a go that made me wake up about what I was failing to see.”

Spider huffed. “See what?”

“That I’ve been in love with her since the day I met her.”

Charlie’s expression softened and she pushed up onto her toes to meet his lips, fingers gently threading through his messy hair.

“You soft sod,” she chuckled against his mouth.

“Get a fucking room,” spat Spider, stalking off towards the group’s table where a thunderous looking Tiggy watched on as the pair embraced, entirely uncaring about their audience.

“Hmmmm… he has a point,” River smirked as he let her come up for air.

“About what..?” she asked in confusion, her head felt fluffy and unclear. Three weeks in and she still hadn’t quite gotten used to him kissing her like that.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he grinned, blue eyes twinkling with mischief, lust written all over his face.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she grinned back, laughing as he practically dragged her from the building, barely stopping to say goodbye to the others.

Sorry for the sugar overload at the end there 🙈 But I hope you liked it! Remember, comments (in any form but reblogs esp!) are love 🤍 xxx

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Masterlists: SLOW HORSES | SERIES | MAIN

Tag Lists:

Slow Horses: @noforkingclue , @watchtowerindistress , @r0ckstardr3amgal , @annaelizabethhenry1

Everything (pls contact to be removed for SH fics)

@runnning-outof-time , @zablife , @look-at-the-soul , @elliotshelbyjones , @midnightmagpiemama

@allie131313 , @star017 , @lespendy , @blondie-22 , @dragons-are-my-favorite ,

@emotionalcadaver , @brummiereader , @alessioayla , @lyarr24 , @dumb-fawkin-bitch ,

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@stevie75 , @padfootdaredmetoo , @moral-terpitude , @shaddixlife , @peakyscillian , @majesticcmey (unable to tag) ,

@rangerelik , @guenievresworld , @margew76 , @camilleholland89 , @woofgocows , @cilliansangel (unable to tag) ,

@ayomurphys , @elenavampire21 , @elk96 , @scorpiussage , @cillixn ,

@esposadomd , @grapejuiceblues , @throughgoeshamilton , @polishcrazyone , @shjjpm ,

@duckybird101 , @maeleeme , @cillmeslowly , @kmc1989 , @nela-cutie , @magicalmushroom0 (unable to tag) , @86luvrs (unable to tag) , @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky (unable to tag)

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elliotshelbyjones · 2 months

Text

Quick note for those unfamiliar with the original Lockdown series - Mrs M used to live in London and they kept her flat when she moved to Dublin cos it’s handy. But she left her cat, Hemingway, behind with her neighbour because he was getting on and she was worried how he’d cope.

Summary: Cillian is back in London and our couple are reunited just in time for Valentine’s Day. Perfect… right..?

Warnings: Some mild smut/suggestive stuff but nothing too graphic (don’t yell at me! 🤭). Bad language.

Word count: 1648 PART 2 | SERIES

iii. Wednesday 14 February

The black and white checkered tiles were painted in vibrant reds, blues and greens where the light twinkled through the stained glass door, as she herself into the hallway of the old, converted Victorian terrace that contained her flat. She was about to lug her case upstairs when Anita, her elderly downstairs neighbour, poked her head out of her front door. Closely followed by an arthritic ball of fur sneaking around her legs, chirping joyfully at Y/N.

“Hello baby,” she cooed, scooping her old cat Hemingway up into her arms, his age not dampening the industrial strength of his purring. A sound not dissimilar to a helicopter preparing for lift-off.

“I think there’s somebody in your flat,” hissed Anita in a stage whisper. “I wasn’t sure at first but I definitely heard footsteps about twenty minutes ago. I wasn’t sure if I should ring the police.”

Y/N sighed a chuckle. “It’s only Cill, you can stand down the Specials. He got in from LA last night.”

“Oh he does work ever so hard,” she sympathised, immediately relaxing, hands clasping theatrically across her breast. “I heard his Desert Island Discs at the weekend.”

She paused, eyes flicking up to the top landing where the door to Y/N’s flat stood. “Not all to my taste, I have to say,” she muttered in a hush that was easily loud enough for the people in the house next door to hear her, and Y/N had to fight to keep from giggling.

“No, well, he’s always had eclectic taste,” she grinned, trying to imagine Anita coping with the musical melange that made up his own radio show. “Do you mind if I take his nibs up with me?” She kissed Hemingway’s fluffy head and he casually batted at her nose.

“Not at all, just remember not to let him do the stairs when he comes back down. He’s not as young in the hips as he used to be.” She barked a laugh, gripping the doorframe. “He’s not the only one, eh?!”

Laughing her goodbyes, Y/N slowly manoeuvred herself upstairs and into the flat, juggling both luggage and feline.

“Hello?”

“In here,” he called back and she followed his voice to her little kitchen diner, dropping the cat to the floor so she could slip into his waiting arms.

“You brought a friend,” he mumbled into her hair, squeezing her tight, arms circled around her middle.

“He demanded to see you,” she giggled, looking across at the cat who was glaring decidedly at Cillian in the manner for which he had become known throughout their long relationship.

“Oh yes, look at him, he can barely contain his joy,” he deadpanned, letting her pull him into a kiss.

“Hello you,” she mumbled against his lips.

“Hello yourself,” he smiled back, stealing another kiss.

“I missed you,” she murmured as they parted. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

She felt him freeze against her.

“Fuck.”

She pulled back, finding his eyes wide with alarm.

“Shit… baby I’m so sorry, I have no idea what day it is.. I..”

She cut him off with a finger to his lips, pushing down the little bubble of disappointment in her chest. “It’s fine. It’s a silly holiday.”

He shook his head, cupping her face. “No, it’s not. I’m so sorry. I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

She stopped him by kissing him slowly, just sinking into the softness of his mouth. Even though it was mid-afternoon, he mustn’t have been up that long, because he still tasted vaguely of toothpaste.

Coming back up for air, she smiled. “I get you, here, in person, for a whole…” She checked the clock over his shoulder. “Fourteen hours and.. twenty-two minutes.” He chuckled quietly, eyes dropped low as she stroked her thumbs across his cheekbones.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“This is all I need. It’s the best valentine’s gift I could get,” she murmured, kissing him again, luxuriating in being able to feel the warmth of him through her clothes. The safe, familiar smell of him surrounding her.

“Well we better start making the most of those fourteen hours and twenty-two minutes,” he muttered, slightly breathlessly.

“Think we’re down to twenty now,” she giggled, yelping as he surprised her by lifting her to his hips. Wrapping her legs around his waist, he carried her off towards the bedroom, carefully kicking the door closed behind him so they wouldn’t have a furry spectator.

Setting her gently on the bed he leaned over to kiss her, both tugging frantically at clothing, when a loud yowling started from behind the door.

“Did you shut him out?” She wriggled away from him, shaking her jumper off from where it hung on just one arm.

“Nooo, don’t let him in,” he whinged. “You know he puts me off.”

“Don’t be silly, he’s a cat,” she scoffed, sticking out her tongue as she opened the door. Immediately the noise stopped as Hemingway weaved victoriously around her legs. Picking him up she peppered kisses into his fur.

“He does! He knows I’m violating his mother.”

“Wow, well now I’m in the mood,” she replied dryly, turning her attention back to the cat in her arms. “Sir, I need you to go have a nap elsewhere. Mama’s busy getting busy.”

He mumbled a mewl that sounded awfully like dissent to Cillian.

“And apparently father has a very fragile ego.”

“Oi!”

She spun back towards him, grinning. “I’ll put him somewhere comfy. You’d better be naked when I get back.”

*****

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you to Berlin?” she asked from her spot on the bed, wearing one of his shirts with the buttons barely done up, and nothing else, as he slowly meandered around in his underwear gathering his stuff for his next trip. No stylist, no team, just his own clothes and products this time. He was quietly relieved to be back in charge of himself for a few minutes. Even if it would be back into the award show machine for the BAFTA’s on Sunday.

“It’s fine - you’ve got work. I’ll only be gone one night.”

“Do you not want me to see this film?”

He looked up from fiddling with his wash bag in surprise, catching her cheeky grin.

“You’ve already seen it.”

“Not with a proper audience though.” She shuffled to the end of the bed, sitting up on her knees beside his little holdall, drawing him in, his hands coming to cradle her head.

“You’re going to have to sit through it multiple times when it actually comes out.”

She pretended to pout and he leaned down, kissing it away. As she sighed contentedly he took the opportunity to sneak his tongue between her lips, dancing softly with her own.

“I know why you don’t want me to come.”

He sighed, resting his forehead against hers.

“I do want you to come. But you’re the one who said you have work to do.”

She waved this entirely accurate version of events away with a flutter of her fingers.

“It’s because you and Enda want a lads night out in Berlin without either me or Jo cramping your style.”

He set his lips, blue eyes boring into hers.

“Yep. That’s exactly it. How are we supposed to hit the clubs and chat up girls with you two getting in the way?”

“I knew it,” she agreed, nodding just as seriously. “Just remember to use protection, yeah?”

He made a show of giving a deep sigh of resignation. “No promises. You know how I am.”

Simultaneous grins creased their faces as they gave way to giggles, clutching each other with mirth.

“M’gonna miss you,” she mumbled as they subsided, resting her head against his chest, arms locked around his waist.

“Me too.” He pressed a kiss into her hair, the comfortingly familiar soft floral scent of her filling his nose. “This week is just insane.” He sighed quietly. “All the weeks lately have been insane. I’m sorry. We’ve just got to get through to the eleventh of March and then soon you’ll be sick of me being at home and be telling me to go back to work.”

She peeked up at him, letting him smooth her hair away from her face. “Damn right. Hanging around, getting in my way like a layabout.”

“I love you too,” he smiled, letting her wriggle up a little higher to meet his lips again. She hummed against his mouth as he deepened the kiss, letting him gently push her backwards until his body covered hers amidst the mess of his scattered belongings on the bed.

“The car for tonight isn’t coming for at least another hour and a half,” he murmured, lips trailing down the column of her throat.

“Hmmm…but yet I somehow need to look presentable by then,” she gasped as he nipped her skin, hips rocking up into his, the firmness of his growing erection already beginning to press deliciously against her bare pussy.

He pulled back, dark pupils wide and dangerous.

“I think you should go like this.”

“Oh really? You think Chris would appreciate that on his big night?”

He leaned up, easily popping the couple of buttons that held his shirt closed, pushing it aside to admire her.

“Hmmmm… on second thoughts this might be too distracting. I have to give a speech after all.”

He ran his tongue over a stiffening nipple, feeling her grind against him needily.

“Plus this is just for me,” he murmured lowly, fingers swiping through her folds, pressing easily into her still slick centre, catching her moans with his mouth. “Who does this little cunt belong to, eh?” he whispered against her lips, nose brushing against hers.

“You. Just you,” she whimpered, eyes sliding closed as he skilfully brought her back to the brink in no time at all.

Alright, alright, I know you want the filth but I liked this better as was. I’ll hook you up with some mucky stuff later on, I promise! 🤭 As ever, I live and die by your comments so please do get in touch in all the usual ways, xx

Masterlists: CILLIAN | LOCKDOWN | MAIN

You can find loads more content for this couple in the Lockdown masterlist - a series, one shots, moodboards and character lore. Enjoy! 🤍

Tag list: @runnning-outof-time , @zablife , @garrison-girl-08 , @look-at-the-soul , @buttercupsandboys , @notyour-valentine , @elliotshelbyjones , @shelbydelrey , @theshelbyclan , @theshelbyslimited , @pintofsweets , @flyingjosephine-blog , @christinasyellowflowers , @midnightmagpiemama , @l1-l4-deactivated20231226 , @allie131313 , @star017 , @lespendy , @blondie-22 , @dragons-are-my-favorite , @emotionalcadaver , @brummiereader , @alessioayla , @lyarr24 , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @forgottenpeakywriter , @kittycatcait219 , @cybernuttragedy456 , @babaohhhriley , @watersquirtpewpewboomm , @stevie75 , @padfootdaredmetoo , @moral-terpitude , @shaddixlife , @peakyscillian , @majesticcmey (unable to tag) , @rangerelik , @guenievresworld , @margew76 , @camilleholland89 , @woofgocows , @cilliansangel (unable to tag) , @ayomurphys , @elenavampire21 , @elk96 , @scorpiussage , @cillixn , @esposadomd , @grapejuiceblues , @throughgoeshamilton , @polishcrazyone , @shjjpm , @duckybird101 , @maeleeme , @cillmeslowly , @kmc1989 , @nela-cutie , @magicalmushroom0 (unable to tag) , @86luvrs (unable to tag) , @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky (unable to tag)

122 notes · View notes

elliotshelbyjones · 2 months

Text

For new readers, you don’t need to have read The Lockdown Sessions (though it helps!). All you need to be aware of is that Mrs M has been in the kids’ lives for almost a decade but the relationship between her and the boys’ mum (Aoife) is still quite awkward.

Summary: It’s the day the GQ photoshoot pictures are released and Mrs M and Eoin share their thoughts, before Eoin drops a bombshell.

Warnings: I’m imagining the challenges of being a step-parent but I’m not one so apologies if any of this seems off. Though not every family dynamic is the same and I think this is just how it is for them. Bad language.

Word count: 2579 PART 1 | SERIES

ii. Tuesday 13 February

She was in the kitchen, once again, making coffee when Scout went tearing off into the hall, barking and tippy tapping on the wooden floor, as she heard Eoin’s key turned in the lock.

“Hiya,” she called, topping his cup up with milk how he liked it, stirring a sugar into her own.

Calling hello, he hushed the dog as he tried to get past, dropping his school bag with a thud and ambling towards the back of the house, the airy space glowing with the afternoon winter sun streaming through the big glass doors and skylights.

“Alright, calm down you crazy mutt, I only saw you yesterday,” he mumbled affectionately, throwing the toy the black lab had brought to him. Scout bounded off in pursuit, like he was still a puppy and not quietly creeping closer to ten years old.

“How was your day?” Y/N asked, passing him his coffee cup, coming to join him leaning against the broad kitchen island.

She loved this little Tuesday ritual that had quietly developed over the last year. With Finn at an after school club and, because their mum was still unhappy about him walking home on his own especially when it was dark, Eoin had to wait for him. But his dad’s house was close to school so he’d taken to coming over for a cuppa and chat, occasionally doing some homework, before going back to pick up Finn at five. It was such a regular fixture now that she had the time blocked out in her work diary and her team knew not to disturb her unless it was really urgent.

He shrugged, sighing, and blew on the steaming liquid. “Have you seen the state of dad in these new photos?”

Y/N stifled a giggle behind her hand, compressing her lips carefully back into seriousness.

“Ah now, they’re not that bad,” she lied, attempting some semblance of solidarity. She’d seen Cillian’s vibrantly colourful GQ photoshoot pop up earlier in the day, and she was quietly grateful he was away because they definitely weren’t her favourites of all time. The colours were fun and his face was immaculate but there was just something, that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, that felt off about them.

Eoin looked at her as though she’d hit her head. “Not that bad? Are you blind??”

She let the grin sneak out, drumming her fingers against her lips - a habit he thought she’d picked up from his dad.

“Well ok, yeah, they’re definitely a Lot of Look.”

“The girls school are losing their fucking minds,” he grimaced, pulling out his phone and opening the tab with his dad’s interview, scrolling quickly. “I mean, look at this one.” He passed it to her, pointing at a shot of Cillian in a pink polo neck jumper, eyes closed, all long lashes and sharp cheekbones, apparently caught in a moment of quiet ethereal swaying. “He looks like Gran after she’s had a few wines at Christmas.”

At this Y/N couldn’t even attempt to contain the hearty laugh that burst out of her. “Holy shit! He does!” she cackled. “I wouldn’t dare say that to your Gran though.”

“No me neither, but I’ve already texted it to dad.” He paused, grinning mischievously. “He hasn’t replied yet.”

She snorted into her coffee cup. “You’re so mean to him.”

“Yeah, well, I’m the one who has to go to school and have everyone in the fucking Sixth Year common room looking at photos of my dad dressed like some kind of Barry fucking Keoghan wannabe.”

“Oh my god! That’s it! It’s been bugging me all day what it is I don’t like about them!” she exclaimed, slapping a palm against her forehead. “It looks exactly like it’s been styled for Barry - and not that I don’t love him to bits but his style…”

“It’s weird.”

“It’s not your dad. The sports shirt one and the fur coat one especially.”

“I mean, the fur coat one. Like, is he just Ken? He’s like one step away from a fucking mojo dojo casa house.”

They both creased into giggles, clutching the countertop.

“Stop! That’s so cruel,” she wheezed.

“But am I wrong?”

She shook her head, hand over her mouth to try and control her mirth.

“Poor dad. We have to be supportive when he gets back. It’s not like he chose the outfits…I assume.”

Eoin rolled his eyes. “Bet he did.”

“Please, there is no way your father - Mr ‘do you have it in black, please?’ - proactively said ‘hi, hello, I’d like to wear those orange sex offender slip-ons, please and thank you’.” Eoin snorted. “‘Oh and also in pink. And I’ll die if I don’t get to wear the leopard print slippers’.”

He squinted at her over his cup. “You really focussed in on the shoes, didn’t you?”

She looked at him darkly. “They are really very, very bad.”

He concurred, sipping thoughtfully.

“Why sex offender though?”

She shrugged, scrolling aimlessly through the interview. “They just give me the ick.” He gestured at her to elaborate. “You know, they remind me of posh boys who pretend it’s all just bants but are almost definitely committing sexual assault. And who are probably rich enough to get away with it,” she added bitterly.

He stared at her for a beat and she wondered if maybe she should have kept that observation just for Cillian. But they had got into a rhythm of being frank with each other now that he was eighteen. Sometimes it was easy to forget he was still actually just a kid.

“Ooo-kay. Noted. Don’t ever buy loafers and wear them in front of Y/N.” She frowned at him sternly and he threw up his hands. “Alright alright, do not buy loafers ever, end of sentence.”

“As if you ever would.”

He pointed at her. “Touché.”

They drank their coffees in companionable silence for a few minutes, watching Scout attempting to eviscerate the squeaker out of his newest toy.

“When does he get back?”

“Tonight. But we’re going to a BFI thing tomorrow night so he’s going straight to the London flat and I’m on the commuter flight over in the morning.”

“Sounds like a very romantic Valentine’s Day date. He really knows how to pull out all the stops.” Eoin frowned as she chuckled. “Wait, isn’t he in Berlin this week for Small Things?”

“Thursday,” she nodded. “He’s going early in the morning. And he’s away with Uncle Enda, so he’ll not be worth talking to on Friday.”

They exchanged a grin. It was a truth, universally acknowledged, that Cillian and Enda unsupervised was always a dangerous combination. But at a work-sponsored piss up? Lives may be lost.

“And then BAFTAs on Sunday..?”

“Yep. And according to Sarah, he’s got something else on Saturday.”

“Fucking hell.”

“Quite,” she sighed.

It was fucking hard work keeping up with his dad at the moment. He seemed to be in LA more than Ireland lately; it had been ages since they’d had a weekend at the house where it wasn’t just the three of them. He didn’t begrudge him the attention - he knew how hard he’d worked on the film - but he couldn’t help but miss having him around.

Not that he’d ever actually go as far as to say that out loud.

“Do you think he’ll be home next weekend?” he ventured instead.

Y/N reached across and squeezed his shoulder briefly - as ever, she read him better than he liked. “I think he’s got another awards thing - the SAGs maybe? Honestly I’m not sure. I’m exhausted just looking at his work calendar.”

He nodded quietly, draining his cup.

“D’y’want me to walk the monster before I go? It’s supposed to rain later.”

Her face softened into a smile. Where did this young man come from? What happened to the surly teenager that would only grunt monosyllabically at her, barely looking up from his phone? She could never have imagined him stopping by for chats and offering to walk the dog.

Or having a working grasp of the short-range weather forecast, for that matter.

“Do you mind? I’ve got work to finish and I promised your dad I’d bring him over a load of stuff because he’s going straight back on a plane from London, and I haven’t even started sorting it yet.”

“S’fine.” But instead of moving, he just shuffled slightly, drumming his fingertips on the counter. She waited quietly, not rushing whatever was coming next.

“You know when you get back next week?” he began tentatively and she nodded, encouraging him to continue. “Do you think… do you think I could come and live here for a while? Like, all the time, not just every other weekend?”

He blurted it all out in a rush, quickly ducking his head to avoid her questioning look of surprise.

“What’s brought this on?”

He shrugged moodily, a dark shadow of his former self flitting across his downturned face. Knowing better than to press, she just quietly sipped her cooling coffee, waiting.

Finally, he looked up and met her inquisitive gaze. “She’s just always going on at me about my exams.”

“And you think if you lived here, we wouldn’t?” She cocked an eyebrow at him and he rolled his eyes.

“You’re different. You’re cooler about stuff.”

A small glow of pride warmed her chest but she forced herself not to gloat.

“I’m sure that’s not—”

“And it’s like nothing I do is right,” he barrelled on, cutting her off. “And… she’s started saying I can’t go with you all in March.”

Y/N flinched. She was certain Cillian hadn’t heard anything of the sort from Aoife - he would have said. She knew how much he was looking forward to having his little family out there with him on his big night.

“Maybe she’s just trying to use it to motivate you..?” she offered, more charitably than she felt.

He shook his head, fixing her with a serious blue stare that was alarmingly like his father’s.

“No, she’s serious. She was a nightmare for weeks after Finn got back from the Globes trip and there were all the pictures of him and dad…and you.”

Y/N felt her face warm, old guilt still churning within her and Eoin looked away, colouring at the admission, the disloyalty burning in his stomach.

“And I know I’ve got exams but like, my dad might win an Oscar. That might never happen again, y’know?” he said more gently, dropping his head into his hands, raking them through his dark hair. “I just… can’t deal with her at the moment. Please can I come and live here..?”

“Sweetheart…”

“Please Y/N?” He fixed her with a wide blue, imploring stare.

She sighed, reaching to squeeze his hand.

“Look kiddo, this will always be your home, but you know as well as I do that there are some things where I’m not allowed to be the one who decides.”

“I don’t see why, it’s your house,” he huffed.

“Yes you do,” she said gently and he looked up, catching her serious expression with a sigh. “Because, unfortunately, every now and again it really matters that I’m not your actual mum. And this is one of those times.”

“I’m eighteen now - isn’t it up to me where I live? And I’ve known you half my life, it’s not fair,” he mumbled. “Finn doesn’t even really remember when they were together. Not properly.”

She shifted to wrap an arm around his shoulders, his slouched position letting her lean her chin on his head. “You’re not wrong, you’re an adult now. But I think you know it’s more complicated than that or you wouldn’t be asking.” He shifted slightly under her and she pressed a kiss into his hair. “I love you and Finn to the moon and back, you know that. But this is just something that has to be agreed between your mum and dad.”

“Fine,” he sighed, moving to look at her and she straightened up, leaning her hip against the counter. “But could you talk to dad first? He listens to you.”

She pushed her hair back from her face. “Ok, ground rules, because your mum is going to hate this, so if we’re going to cause a commotion I need you to be serious. If you move in here, you still have to do your weekends with her.”

He pulled a face.

“No. Non-negotiable. You might be an adult now but she loves you and she has as much right to see both of you as your dad. Plus dad will never be able to sell it to her without offering that. If things were reversed, he would - he did - fight to see you.”

“Not that he’s ever here…” he mumbled and she looked at him sharply.

“Hey, c’mon now, that’s not fair. He can’t help how insane it is with work at the moment but we only have a few more weeks and then life will go back to normal. And you know how much he misses you two, and how important having you here is to him.”

He shuffled a little, conceding the point.

“Secondly,” she continued, “and perhaps more importantly, you have to promise me right now that you’ll work hard without me - or your dad - hounding you. Because if you think you can come here just to doss around…”

He held up his hands. “I don’t. I promise. And I’ll even walk the dog for you when dad’s away. And… and I’ll do the dishes every night.” He forced himself to hold her stern stare, one he recognised from being occasionally deployed against his dad.

He had a fleeting moment of sympathy for his father.

“Ok, fine,” she relented, pinching the bridge of her nose beneath her glasses, knowing Cill even just so much as suggesting this to Aoife was going to spark an international incident. “But I mean it. I will be seriously disappointed if you come here and take the piss and your grades suffer. And not just because your mum would love to blame me for that.”

He nodded seriously, only too aware of that fact. “I promise, Y/N.”

She nodded and to her great surprise he suddenly enveloped her in a bone-crushing hug.

“If he says yes, can I move in next Tuesday?” he asked as he released her.

“If your mum agrees, then yes. Dad won’t be here though.”

“Where is he this time?”

She waved her hand tiredly. “New York, I think? Yet more Oppie Q&A.”

“He must be so sick of talking about that film.”

“Him and me both,” she sighed, following him out into the hall as he put the lead on Scout, shouldering his bag.

“I’ll chuck him round then back when we’re done,” he said, quickly giving her a one armed hug as Scout snorted, face pressed against the door, keen to be off. “Thanks, I promise I won’t let you down.”

“Don’t thank me yet - they haven’t agreed to anything yet.”

He grinned, pulling open the door, wobbling as Scout took off enthusiastically and nearly yanked his arm from its socket.

“They will though.”

She closed the door as his loping form disappeared out the gate, sighed and rested her forehead against the wood.

It was only Tuesday and this week was already feeling long. And now she had to somehow mediate world war three.

I promise from part 3 onwards this story will contain Actual Cillian 🙈 When it was just one story you wouldn’t have noticed but I’m more aware he’s been absent now it’s in pieces - I hope you’ll stick with me! Let me know what you thought in all the usual ways 🤍 xx

Masterlists: CILLIAN | LOCKDOWN | MAIN

There is a whole universe of this family in the Lockdown masterlist, plus you can read their exploits during the making of Oppenheimer HERE

Tag list: @runnning-outof-time , @zablife , @garrison-girl-08 , @look-at-the-soul , @buttercupsandboys , @notyour-valentine , @elliotshelbyjones , @shelbydelrey , @theshelbyclan , @theshelbyslimited , @pintofsweets , @flyingjosephine-blog , @christinasyellowflowers , @midnightmagpiemama , @l1-l4-deactivated20231226 , @allie131313 , @star017 , @lespendy , @blondie-22 , @dragons-are-my-favorite , @emotionalcadaver , @brummiereader , @alessioayla , @lyarr24 , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @forgottenpeakywriter r , @kittycatcait219 , @cybernuttragedy456 , @babaohhhriley , @watersquirtpewpewboomm , @stevie75 , @padfootdaredmetoo , @moral-terpitude , @shaddixlife , @peakyscillian , @majesticcmey (unable to tag) , @rangerelik , @guenievresworld , @margew76 , @camilleholland89 , @woofgocows , @cilliansangel (unable to tag) , @ayomurphys , @elenavampire21 , @elk96 , @scorpiussage , @cillixn , @esposadomd , @grapejuiceblues , @throughgoeshamilton , @polishcrazyone , @shjjpm , @duckybird101 , @maeleeme , @cillmeslowly , @kmc1989 , @nela-cutie , @magicalmushroom0 (unable to tag) , @86luvrs (unable to tag) , @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky (unable to tag)

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elliotshelbyjones · 2 months

Text

This mini-series tells the story of one crazy week in the life of our Lockdown family during Cillian’s mad awards season whirlwind through fragments of conversations across the week. I didn’t mean for it to be a series but it was getting epically long to be a single story so here we are. Chapters will be released daily (unless you ask me to slow down - I don’t want to overwhelm!). Enjoy 🤍

Summary: Cillian is in LA and Mrs M listens to Cillian’s appearance on Desert Island Discs. But his voice floating into their kitchen just reminds her how far away he is.

Warnings: Slightly angsty? Maybe more melancholy than angst. Mrs M isn’t coping brilliantly with their constant separation.

Word count: 832 MASTERLIST

i. Sunday 11 February

The rain was lashing against the windows as she washed up the breakfast dishes from a lazy brunch. Both the boys were back upstairs doing homework, or at least pretending to be, when her husband’s voice floated out of the radio, describing choosing his Desert Island Discs.

“I sweated over it, like everybody does. I showed a couple of friends the list and they said ‘well that’s good Cillian, there’s no weird, crazy, obscure stuff on there.. for a change’…”

The self-deprecating laugh that followed made her smile, particularly hearing some of her own teasing quoted back across the airwaves.

It was unnerving though, having him spectorally in the room with her, when in actual fact he was thousands of miles away, waiting to attend yet another Oscars event in LA the following day.

Her busy hands paused, just listening to him, and she was overcome with a need to call him. Just to hear his actual voice. The one that was just hers, and not shared with millions of people around the world. The softer, easier, more relaxed version of himself that only occasionally managed to sneak out in interviews. But it was the middle of the night still in LA and she wouldn’t spoil his sleep for all the world. He was so tired, bouncing from timezone to timezone, not knowing if he was coming or going, and he wasn’t great without sleep at the best of times.

They’d been like ships in the night for weeks now and he’d hardly been back to Dublin at all - mostly crashing at her little flat in London on the rare occasions he was this side of the Atlantic. No, not like ships - that suggested movement on her part too. No, if anything she was the port, fixed and forlorn, just waiting for him to return.

Glumly, she scrubbed and fretted yet again about how little time he’d spent with the kids since Christmas. About how little time they’d spent as a couple that wasn’t hastily snatched moments before he passed out with exhaustion.

His past-self, pre-recorded and oblivious, chatted merrily in the background about Paul Simon and childhood holiday car journeys that definitely contravened several safety laws, and she scrubbed a pan extra vigorously, accidentally sending it tumbling back into the soapy water with a splash.

“Fuck!” she hissed as it covered the front of her sweater in water.

But it wasn’t responsible for the water on her face that she wiped away distractedly with her sleeve.

“You alright?”

She jumped as Finn appeared behind her - she’d been so lost in her head that she hadn’t heard him come downstairs. A minor miracle given he wasn’t exactly known for being stealthy.

“Boo,” he chuckled as she blew out a deep, steadying breath. “You alright though..?”

“I’m fine, just giving myself an inadvertent bath.” She gestured to her wet clothes.

He looked at the radio where music had just stopped, caught unawares hearing his dad’s voice.

“Jesus, is that gobshite never off?” he grinned, succeeding in getting a small laugh from his step-mum with one of their favourite Father Ted references.

“Never. I can’t open my socials without being confronted by his face.”

“Just waiting for you like a jumpscare?”

She laughed properly, tipping the water out of the dish and rinsing the sink. “Exactly.” Drying her hands, she turned to face him. “Have you finished your homework already?”

He shuffled awkwardly.

“C’mon Finn, you know the rules.”

“Will you help me with this essay for English? Shakespeare makes no sense.”

She had to actively prevent herself from bristling and remind herself what it was like trying to engage with reading the works of the great Bard at his age. How impenetrable the language seemed to be, just sitting there flat on a page. It wasn’t meant to be read; it was designed to be seen.

“Bring it down and I’ll have a look.”

Brightening, he took off, thumping up the stairs at such a pace that Scout got overexcited and clambered out of his bed to race off after him.

Alone again, she braced her hands against the kitchen island as one of her favourite Queen songs began playing in the background. It reminded her of dinner parties and summer evenings, his arms around her waist humming the lyrics in her ear.

‘Can anybody find meeeee… somebody to love’

She squeezed her eyes closed, swallowing hard against the tightening in her throat, hearing Finn already clattering back downstairs.

“Alright, so am I reading it wrong or is this Hamlet dude just a massive fucking crybaby..?” he exclaimed as he burst back in, dumping all his stuff on the kitchen table.

Taking a deep breath, pushing a smile to her face, she switched off the radio and went to sit with him. Pulling his essay title towards her, she blinked quickly to stop the words from swimming.

“Well… that’s not an entirely inaccurate assessment…but maybe not how I’d describe it to your teachers…”

Sorry, I know he’s not actually in this one but he’ll turn up later. I wanted this to be a whole family affair because his work schedule affects them all. I’m not expecting big notes on this but if you liked it, I’d love to hear your thoughts 🤍

Masterlists: CILLIAN | LOCKDOWN | MAIN

You can read loads more of this family in the Lockdown masterlist, and in their making off Oppenheimer spin-off.

Tag list: @runnning-outof-time , @zablife , @garrison-girl-08 , @look-at-the-soul , @buttercupsandboys , @notyour-valentine , @valentinabloom , @elliotshelbyjones , @shelbydelrey , @theshelbyclan , @theshelbyslimited , @pintofsweets , @flyingjosephine-blog , @christinasyellowflowers , @midnightmagpiemama , @l1-l4-deactivated20231226 , @allie131313 , @star017 , @lespendy , @blondie-22 , @dragons-are-my-favorite , @emotionalcadaver , @brummiereader , @alessioayla , @lyarr24 , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @forgottenpeakywriter , @kittycatcait219 , @cybernuttragedy456 , @babaohhhriley , @watersquirtpewpewboomm , @stevie75 , @padfootdaredmetoo , @moral-terpitude , @shaddixlife , @peakyscillian , @majesticcmey (unable to tag) , @rangerelik , @guenievresworld , @margew76 , @camilleholland89 , @woofgocows , @cilliansangel (unable to tag) , @ayomurphys , @elenavampire21 , @elk96 , @scorpiussage , @cillixn , @esposadomd , @grapejuiceblues , @throughgoeshamilton , @polishcrazyone , @shjjpm , @duckybird101 , @maeleeme , @cillmeslowly , @kmc1989 , @nela-cutie , @magicalmushroom0 (unable to tag) , @86luvrs (unable to tag) , @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky (unable to tag)

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