#cillian murphy character

[deceitfuldevout]

Highest Bidder

Dark!Robert Fishcher x Sugarbaby!Reader

Word Count: +3,066

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Loss of virginity, Human auction, Housewife kink, Breeding kink, Misogynistic remarks, Insults, Just plain abuse, Robert is a warning himself.

Author's Note(s): I have been thinking about this for a hot minute. Inspired by @mypoisonedvine Robert Fischer fic go check it out!!

You couldn't stop checking your phone for an update. He was supposed to be here an hour ago. Did he bail? Part of you had hoped so. It would make things a lot easier. Years ago, if someone had told you that you'd be auctioning off your virginity, well, the first thing you'd do is laugh in their face.

That was before everything went to shit. Your parents ended up in neck-deep debt trying to pay off your college, borrowing money from some sleazy loaner company. Soon having no choice but to debate on filing for bankruptcy. Everything they've worked hard for, gone. You didn't want them to worry about that anymore.

This wasn't a huge deal for you. Personally, you've never had any luck with guys and would rather get this over with. Growing up you were always the awkward, ugly duckling of the friend group, so a boyfriend was out of the picture. Only sharing an innocent kiss with a childhood friend, but that was a long time ago. It was only after you reached your 20's where you began to bloom.

He'd bought your outfit and covered the cost of everything. He wants you ready and waiting for him, all wrapped up like a pretty present. He's very particular about these things, even making a list of errands to run before the big day. He requested for photos of the hair and makeup you'd be wearing for the evening. Scolding you every time you did something he disliked. He wouldn't even try hiding it. You reread his previous text message: Change the makeup. It makes you look like a cheap whore. You scoff at the response...how rude.

Even before all of this he would try to test your patience. Sending messages like, 'Do you know who I am? You should be more grateful that I'm giving you this much attention," or "Anyone would be lucky to be in your position,' which made you physically roll your eyes. This morning, he had given you a call as a reminder of where you would meet. He send you the hotel address with money for a cab.

He made sure to give you call in the afternoon as a reminder of what to do after arriving, ending it with, "I don't want to hear any complaining when I get there." before hanging up. You grumble a stray of curse words, this had better been worth it...

You couldn't believe your eyes on how luxurious the hotel was. It's entrance had been decorated with marble and brass statues. There wasn't a drop of it that didn't scream 'money'. You sheepishly sign in, allowing a worker to carry your bag to the room. It had taken a while before you could reach the top. Part of you was impressed, he had really gone all out.

As soon as you enter the room there was this sort of romantic ambiance to it. From the lighting, to the breathtaking scenery of the city. It was all so...dreamy. But this was no dream. You were going to have sex for the first time with some old, rich geezer, gross. You take note of a shopping bag left on the bed, opening it to find a lingerie set.

You held the fabric, inspecting the material. White lace, with hints of glitter that shine in the light. At least the old man has good taste. You take a look at yourself in the mirror, humming at the sight of it. Not bad...hell, you looked fantastic.

Suddenly the door knob jingles, then a heavy knock follows. You leapt from the bed, approaching to open the door for him. But before you could reach the knob it slams open. A man enters, sporting a well-tailored suit, dressed to the nines from head-to-toe. His hair is combed back, a few strands dangle against his forehead. As you scan the man's face, you couldn't help but notice how handsome he was.

There's a light rosy hue to his cheeks. You first notice the striking blues of his eyes and how long his lashes are. He looks like he'd have no problem at all searching for someone. So what is he doing paying for someone like you? For a moment, you were in awe of his presence. Staring back at the man like a deer caught in headlights.

The meeting today had taken its toll on Robert. He was supposed to meet with you hours ago, but there had been an emergency with the company's shareholders. He could practically feel his blood boiling, to the point where it felt almost difficult to breathe. He tugs his tie off and yanks for his shirt to open, a few buttons go flying. He lets out a huff, scanning the room with his blue orbs for something, more specifically, someone.

"So you're the one I've been talking to eh?" a hint of humor in his voice, "Let me guess, you're a good girl caught up in the wrong crowd? Is that it?" he taunts, "I'm sure you've 'never' done this before," the corners of his mouth turn upward into a sinister grin. His eyes are emotionless. Cold as ice. Yet why did they seem so comforting? As if you've seen them before.

He drops his suitcase at the end of the bed, turning towards you. He eyes you up and down, as if he were deep in thought, "Give me a spin," and of course you follow his orders. He raises a brow, "Come here," he commands. You stare back at him, unsure of what he'd just said. Robert sighs, he doesn't have time for this. He's slightly drunk and exhausted from work. Right now he just wants some hard, animalistic fucking.

He tugs your underwear to the side, examining his prize. He bunches up the waistband of your panties before yanking the fabric down. You held your breath, now riddled with anxiety. This was a bit too...casual for comfort. He fists the fabric, holding it to the side while the other hand held your hip.

His voice is deep, much deeper in person, "Hold it for me," he wants to get a good look at his purchase. His thick fingers slide down your pubic area, grazing against the bare skin, he hums, "Even waxed yourself like I told you to, good girl." he slaps the side of your hip, as if he were examining livestock. Your stomach coils at the realization. Never in your life have you felt so...objectified. Still, now wasn't the time to back down. He pushes you against a desk. Until you were now leaning on the table.

He spreads your folds with his thick digits, examining them closely. He held your clit between his fingers, pinching it lightly. You let out a whine from the sensation, bucking your hips from the sudden discomfort. He retreats his hand before flipping you over. His chest now against your back. He pushes you against the table, bending you over for a better view. He was in no rush.

He rubs his fingers over your bare slit. His thumb caresses your bundle of nerves. As soon as he retreats you finally snap the fabric back in place. Now lowering your head with embarrassment. He grips your chin, lifting it until you're face-to-face, "No don't hide from me now..." he plops himself on a chair, tilting his chin up, "Why don't you make yourself useful and help me get this off?"

If you weren't getting paid you would've scoffed at his rudeness. It was obvious he was into power play. Being in total control of everything. Now wasn't the time for letting your emotions emotions get involved. You help him remove his coat and tie, even unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. He's still wearing his pants, now unclasped. He stares you down, a smirk now lingering on his cold features, "Take off your clothes,"

When you start to quickly unclasp the garter belt, Robert's voice booms, "Stop." he orders, "Do it slower," he leans back in the recliner, already palming his erection. You shyly unclasp your belt, letting the straps fall off each shoulder. His hand grazes on an exposed breast, sending shivers down your spine.

He chuckles, "Oh...don't tell me you're that sensitive?" a crude remark. Your brows furrow, why did he have to tease you so? He notices your obvious discomfort, "Don't worry darling, your only job is to fuck," as if that would make things better, "Do you know how to suck cock?" he questions. You give him a hesitant nod, "No...I've never done it before this is my first time--"

"I didn't ask for a whole life story,"

"...No," your lips press in a thin line. He was really pushing it, "So you've never had sex or sucked cock before, tell me, what have you done?" he pulls out his member, already hard and leaking. It's tip was flush pink, the same as his lips. He spits into his palm before working himself up, he knows you're nervous. He wants you to be intimidated by him. He pumps his shafts with slow strokes, "Tell me, what gets you off..." he sighs.

You look down to your feet, suddenly his voice booms, "No, do not look away," to which you began to tear up. His voice is soft now, "Sweetheart, look at me," he huffs. You look up at him now with tearful eyes, he groans, "Oh...that's it..." stroking his cock faster. A finger points directly at you in a 'come hither' motion. You walk towards him, still eyeing his shaft. How was that going to fit?

You felt warm despite the lack of clothing, there's a pooling sensation between your legs. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap. His tongue darts against a breast. He teases the bud with his teeth. He made sure it was swollen and sensitive before giving attention to the other breast.

You never knew it could feel this...good. As soon as your hands reach for his hair he instantly stops, Robert remembers the reason why you're here. It wasn't to see him. You only wanted one thing, and he doesn't have time to play pretend. He just came here to collect what he's owed. At the end of the day, you were just a hired whore. He swats both hands away, giving you the cold shoulder. He lifts himself from the seat, throwing you against the carpet. You're confused at the sudden mood swing. It frightens you. Where the hell did that come from?

"It's a shame, you were doing so well," Robert sits up, his leaking cock now presses against his abdomen. He's pissed. He paid you for your time, you were suppose to focus only on his needs. Every word that came from his mouth dripped with anger, "It seems like you need a reminder on whore etiquette," he knows you've probably fucked a few before him, this was all part of your little roleplay act.

"I'm not a whore!" you detest lying, what made him not believe you? Forget it...this wasn't worth an argument, "You know what? You can take your money back asshole! Fuck this and fuck you--" a hand grips around your neck. He'll have to show you a thing or two of what comes with selling yourself out, especially to a complete stranger. You've always knew deep down that you'd regret your first, but this was downright terrifying.

This man, he didn't even see you as a person. As a human being. To him, this was all a transaction that was paid for, "What did you think that website was for? It's a human auction. Not just your cunt. Meaning I own your ass for the next few hours," he leans in, pressing his nose against yours, he growls, "Remember your place..."

Robert pulls you up by the hair, throwing you onto the bed. You scramble to get away but he's much stronger. He began to wrestle you. To which you land a slap on his cheek, hard enough to leave a mark. You pause, now too scared to move. He touches the tender skin, it would surely leave a bruise tomorrow. Which just so happens to be an important meeting, "You little bitch..." he grips your jaw until it aches, forcing your mouth to open.

He takes the opportunity to spit inside, covering your mouth and pinching your nose. You felt like you wanted to gag. Finally, after fighting to hold your breath, you swallow. He grins, "See? even if you try to fight me, I always get what I want..."

You, of all people, should know this about him. Instead you try putting up a fight, "I hate you! I hate you! Let me go!" thrashing around. Both of his hands now pressed against your throat. He scolds, "If you want it to hurt I'll make it hurt like nothing else..." he flips you over, pressing his body against your own, making it harder to breathe.

He lets his pants slide down. Tugging off his boxers. He spits a wad into his hand, that should be enough to get comfortable, for him. But for you? Well, he wants it to hurt you. Otherwise, how will you learn? Whores like you deserve to feel pain. That's what you get for teasing him in your photos. He growls into your ear, "Time to try my pussy..."

He yanks down your panties before pressing his leaking tip against your opening. He muffles your cries in his palm. You couldn't hold back the tears. This man is going to break you! As retaliation you tilt your head to the side and bit into his forearm. He grunts from the pain, it only encourages him to carry out your punishment. He thrusts harder, grinding down his hips to reach as deep as he could go.

You sob from the pain, going limp from shock. All you could do was cry into his hand, bracing yourself against the cushioning below. You turned your head to face the mirror, taking a good look at your own sad, pathetic reflection. You were being dominated by a complete stranger. How did it get to this point? When did you become so pathetic? So desperate to the point where you became a whore for hire?

He held you close to his chest. He knows now you're too tired to fight him off. He kept jutting his hips back and fourth, moaning in your ear with a deep grumble. You could smell the alcohol and cigarettes on his breath. It repulses you. The only sounds that could be heard in the room were of skin-to-skin slapping, Robert's insults, and your muffled cries.

"Fuck....fuck m'gonna cum..." he grunts. He rubs his nose against the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scented perfume. He drags his face across the soft, supple skin. He can tell by the shimmer that you applied an expensive lotion earlier. Of course you wanted him, what woman wouldn't? He's handsome, rich, successful, he's the entire package.

So why were you begging for him not to finish inside? You were just being stubborn, that's all. He'll have to remind you of who's in charge, "I bought this pussy fair and square. If I want to put a baby in it, then bitch, I will," he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, biting until the skin breaks. He doesn't stop thrusting his hips. Plunging his cock deep inside to coat your womb. He moans, furrowing his brows from the feeling of your velvety walls.

"You think you're better than me huh? Old enough to fuck but not old enough to get knocked up, yeah fucking right" he huffs, "You just wanted an excuse to be whore..." His voice becomes hoarse, as the pleasure began to increase, "Fuck...fuck I'll buy you a big house just so I can fuck you in it...hm...yeah you'd like that wouldn't you?" he doesn't stop his vigorous thrusts, "I’ll fuck some babies into you hm? You'd like that? I’ll give you a baby with blue eyes…something to remind you of me…" he flips you over, locking an arm around your neck.

All you could do was whine as you wait for the inevitable. Robert licks a stripe against your ear. He grunts with satisfaction, "Want you to remember this for the rest of your life....every time you think about your first time, you'll be thinking of me...." he fastens his pace. All you could do was stare back at your reflection. A tear trickles down your cheek. You couldn't help but agree. It was true, this moment would haunt you for the rest of your life.

Robert knows it. That's what gives him such an ego boost. He felt like he was on top of the fucking world. He growls in your ear, "Remember this, I.Fucking.Own.You." before unloading his spunk deep inside. He muffles a moan in the crook of your neck, bowing his head down to feel the bliss of it all. Fuck, he never came so much in his life. Was it the adrenaline or the pussy? He doesn't care. All he knows is that it's money well spent.

He slowly begins to pull out, hissing from the pleasure your pussy gave. He moans at the sight of his shaft dipped in a crimson tint, "Fuck me...if that isn't a sight for sore eyes..." he's made sure to mark his territory. He flips you over, you're too scared to even look at him.

He slides his hand from your stomach to your pelvis, "Hold on...I want to see it.." giving your lower abdomen a light push, forcing the rest of his seed out. It's mixed with a string of red. His lids are hooded, there's a twitch to his features. He grins, "Fuck...guess you weren't lying about me being your first..." he chuckles, "And here I thought you were just another lying whore..." playing with your emotions.

Robert lifts himself from the bed. He retrieves his belt on the floor, tying your wrists to the bed post. He doesn't want to risk you running away from him. Not while he still had a few hours left. He fixes himself in the mirror, coming his hair back to how it was before. Making sure that there wasn't a single strand out of place. He admires himself in the mirror. He felt like a fucking champ. Like nothing in the world could stop him, and so far there hasn't been.

Robert knew this was a good idea the moment he saw your profile online. He'd been tracking you down for quite some time, it's been a while. His obsession growing with each message sent. He had to own you. Mind, body, and soul. It was a good idea to install the hidden camera in the hotel. He could only stare at you from his office, viewing you changing into the set he'd purchased, admiring yourself in the mirror. He had to wait another agonizing hour before work was finished.

He notices the way you'd tried being presentable, all for him. How you would constantly check your phone just to see what his orders were. Submissive, compliant, needy. So fucking needy. That little pussy of yours needed his cock to break it in. He doesn't want it to end, he tosses a few bills onto the mattress, you don't even flinch. Your mind had already escaped.

Robert leans in, caging your body with his arms, "Why don't I keep you as my little plaything, hm?" he knows you've recently graduated. But what use was a degree compared to what he could give? What greater reward than being his pretty little housewife? You might as well put those looks to use. He plants a kiss against your lips, humming in satisfaction, "Need a good girl to balance me out..." he begins to rant, "And if you ever think of leaving me, I'll send a video of us fucking to your parents,"

But the thing is, you never told him who your parents were. It was then when the pieces began to fall into place. How could you be so stupid? His username was R-Morrow.

This was no other than the owner of Fischer Morrow, the man responsible for your landing parents in deep debt. Of course they trusted him, because he's your childhood friend. You lift yourself up and face him. Your voice in disbelief when you question the identity of the strange man, now with a tearful look, "R-Robbie?" you whisper. He pauses for a moment, head turning to the side as he looks your way, "Did you miss me?"

"...Why? I-I don't understand..." you began hyperventilating. This wasn't happening. Your childhood friend had taken your virginity. At one point, he was your entire world. He approaches you, no longer a lanky young boy but a man. He cups your face, pressing his forehead against yours. He sighs, "Don't you remember the promise we made? To find each other?" his eyes bore into yours, "I could only dream of it, but now?" he wraps his arms around you, holding you close to him, "Now you're finally mine..."

#dark!robert fischer #dark!robert fischer x reader #reader #reader insert #fem!reader #afab!reader #fab!reader #dark!fic #dark!fanfic #dark!fanfiction #dark!smut #dark fic #dark fanfic #dark fanfiction #cillian murphy character #cillian murphy smut

[littlefandomfairy]

💜 cillian murphy fic recs (2) 💜

neil lewis | robert capa | lenny miller | emmett | henry wilson

🩷 (fluff) 🍆 (smut) 😈 (angst) 🩹 (hurt/comfort)

last updated: 04/04/24 | fic recs (1)

🎞️ Neil Lewis (Watching The Detectives)

you already know (series) by @mypoisonedvine (individual warnings)

she's my best friend by @differentclasss 🩷🍆👿

first date movies by @willaferrreyra 🩷🍆

you're the only one who makes me feel alive by @cillianhead 🍆👿

in my neighbors pool by @your-nanas-house 🩷🍆

dry humping by @pictureinme 🩷🍆

pool party by @slut4thebroken 🩷🍆

☀️ Robert Capa (Sunshine)

gravity by @system-to-the-madness 🩷

needy by @mysaintkitten 🩷🍆

🕵️ Lenny Miller (Anna)

daddy kink by @darthannie 🩷🍆

take me back to hawaii by @madame-wilsonn 🩷🩹

breeding kink by @darthannie 🍆

love of his life by @aphroditeslover11 🩷🍆

🤫 Emmett (A Quiet Place Part II)

good girl, stay quiet for me (series) by @salbei-141 (individual warnings)

hypothermia by @beastofburdenxo 🍆🩹

home improvement by @slut4thebroken 🩷🍆

it's always the quiet ones by @kiss-me-cill-me 🍆

scream for me by @cillianhead 🩷🍆

⚓ Henry Wilson (Dunkirk)

his little family by @madame-wilsonn 🩷

roses by @madame-wilsonn 🩷

sunrises and hot chocolate by @madame-wilsonn 🩷🩹

blurb by @springsteens

#neil lewis #robert capa #lenny miller #emmett a quiet place #henry wilson #cillian murphy character #fic recs #fic recommendations

[dbnightingale24]

Already Won Me Over Sneak Peak

A Follow Up 'Love Me Or Just Let Me Go'

~~

~~

Sorry for the delay! I meant to post this yesterday, but I got real fuckin' picky about certain things, because I'm ✨annoying✨ ANYWAY, this is just a snippet of what's to come, and I hope you all enjoy it! You all get heartbreaking smut, cause tomorrow is Valentine's Day!! 🙃🙃

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), Swearing, Heartbreak, Arguing, Violence, Angst, Uhh...I think that's it for now.

I do not give permission/consent for my works/stories to be posted elsewhere. I do not condone this kind of behavior or relationship, this is for entertainment purposes only.

~~

“We need to get in and out of your apartment. Only grab what’s important,” he tells you softly as he turns on the car.

“Yeah,” you agree softly.

That was the extent of the conversation you two had. 

You’ve never had such a quiet car ride with Jonathan, and you hate it. You hate this. Besides the fact that almost everyone you know and love has been attacked tonight, and you feel like it’s your fault, you also don’t know what the fuck to do about you and Jonathan. After everything that was said tonight, all of the tears and begging, he still can’t just fucking say it. You can’t help but grow tired of all of this shit. Yeah, it sucks that he feels like shit, but you’re not doing this to him.

He’s doing it to the both of you.

“Jonathan,” you sigh as he gets out of the car along with you, “I can go up on my-”

“You can get as far away from me as you want when we get home. For now, I’m coming up with you. I don’t want to argue anymore-”

“Fine, lets just get it over with,” you mutter, quickly making your way inside, Jonathan following behind you with a low groan as he sighs.

Sigh, sigh, sigh. Yeah well, this part isn’t on you. 

“Is there anything I shouldn’t bring?” you question, unlocking your door.

“You only need to bring-”

“Welcome home,” a man with a thick accent greets as soon as you open your door, his fist already traveling towards your face, but you duck just in time.

“I haven’t had a bad enough day?!” you growl, head butting the much larger man in the chest, forcing him inside. 

“I love a bitch who can fight,” the man laughs darkly, pushing you aside.

“Get out of my HOUSE!” you scream, picking up the vase of flowers Jonathan bought you hours ago and throwing them at the man, missing him by millimeters.

“This is barely a shoe box,” the man laughs, pulling out his revolver.

“Well, that’s not very nice, now is it?” Jonathan growls, grabbing one of the bar stools and smashing the man over the back of his head with it. 

That has you freezing on the spot. You’ve never seen Jonathan’s violence, and you’re not sure how you feel about it now that you have.

“You break into her home,” Jonathan continues roughly, still beating the man with stool as it creaks and cracks, “try to hurt her, and then insult her home?! Where are your manners, Ivan?! HUH?!” he roars, slamming the wooden stool against the countertop, breaking off one of its legs. “Who else has been running around Gotham doing Boris’ dirty work?! Y/N’s Mom, her Uncle, her friends?! Who did it?!”

You glance over and see that the door is still open; you run to close it, knowing that it’s bound to get bloodier and more violent. 

“I asked you a fucking question!” Jonathan broods, hitting the man with the broken stool leg.

“Boris warned you,” the man coughs out while trying to fend off Jonathan, wildly flailing his arms as he rolls side to side on the floor like a broken metronome.

“And I warned Boris! The fuck ups you all make are on you! It’s not my fucking job to fix it! You go after someone I care about and you think there won’t be any fucking repercussions?! I warned all of you and now look!”

“Dr. Crane-”

“Dr. Crane isn’t in right now!” he snarls, striking the guy across the face again before tossing the the bloody stool leg aside. “Now, apologize to the woman.” The man spits out a tooth, groaning to himself.

“Boris just wants-”

“APOLOGIZE!” Jonathan roars.

“I’m-I’m sorry, Ma’am,” the man sobs at you.

“Good boy,” Jonathan praises as he pulls out his .45. “I think I’ll make you the first casualty in Boris’ army.”

“Dr. Crane-” his words feebly teeter from his bleeding mouth.

You cover your mouth as you yelp at the steely explosive bang from the gun shot and take a step back. This day is really taking a toll on you. 

He stands up straight, breathing heavy, before turning to look at you. His hair is wild, half of his face is splattered with blood. His eyes are still and wild. You’re not sure how to feel about it, but you can’t help the arousal pooling between your legs at his feral state in the soft glow of the night.

“Pack while I run through his pockets,” he tells you after a moment, pushing back his messy hair.

“You should shower,” you tell him weakly, looking from him to Ivan’s lifeless body.

“Y/N-”

“You have clothes here. You walking out there covered in his blood is a bad look. You should shower and I’ll call the cops-”

“Don’t. I’ll take care of it,” he interrupts, tone still authoritative as he tries to calm down. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“No, no, I’m fine. I promise,” you answer calmly as a soft tapping on your door has you jumping.

“Y/N? Are you okay dear?” your elderly neighbor, Miss Francine, asks softly, and a soft chuckle leaves your mouth before you can stop it.

Are you okay? That’s laughable right now.

“I’m alright, Miss Francine. You need to get back to your room, it’s not safe in the hallway at this hour.”

“Do you need me to call someone? I’m not afraid of these thugs!” she says defiantly, and you laugh to yourself softly.

You love her so much.

“No no, I have someone here with me. I’m safe, I promise.”

“Alright dear. Good night,” she calls softly and you hear her footsteps retreating, soon followed by her door opening and closing.

“Pack,” Jonathan repeats sternly.

“Shower,” you tell him softly, giving Ivan’s dead body one last look before going into your room. 

You look around and you can’t decide where to begin. Your mind can’t and won’t slow down. You’ve just seen Jonathan murder someone, and he murdered that person for you. How the fuck is it easier for him to murder someone than fucking admitting that he loves someone? Even when he was beating the man to death, all he could say was, ‘someone I care about’.

Yeah, that’s the last thing you should be thinking about right now, but if there’s ever a time for an accidental ‘I love you’, that would be it. Damn, maybe there is a part of you that’s a self absorbed little shit, but you’re not about to feel ashamed about it. Not after all that’s happened tonight.

You hear the shower turn on, and your mind is instantly reminded of something else. 

No matter what he can or won’t say, he still killed someone. He killed them without hesitation and he did it for you. In that moment, all that mattered was keeping you safe, and he had no thought for his self care at all. His only focus was you and keeping you safe.

Plus, truth be told, him looking so unhinged and wild? A total turn on for you that you weren’t expecting at all. 

No, none of this is ideal and you still don’t know what the hell you’re gonna do about the both of you, but you know that you’re lonely and in pain. There’s only one person you want right now, and he’s the last person you should want right now. 

God damn him for making you love him so damn much.

You slowly take off your dress and strapless bra, at war with yourself about whether or not you should go through with this, but the part of you that needs a release wins. Sure, you could have a drink or a smoke, but it won’t be enough. Besides, it’s not like you won’t be drinking till you’re numb in the face for the next few weeks anyways. No, it’s not the best solution, but you’re done trying to be smart and logical for the moment. You’ve been at war with yourself since all of this started, and you’re just so damn tired of thinking. 

You just want to feel something other than sadness and pain.

“Y/N, you should be...Y/N,” Jonathan trails off as you get in the shower with him.

“I can pack after,” you tell him softly, looking him over, fingers lightly tracing over his faded scars. “You didn’t have to attack that man-”

“I wasn’t gonna let him hurt you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, but I want-need to take care of you.”

“Why?”

“Because I care about you,” he huffs, and you can hear him at war with himself.

Well, fuck it. If he isn’t gonna say it, you will. Again.

“I love you-”

“Sweetheart-”

“I love you, Jonathan. I don’t care if you don’t wanna hear it, I don’t care if you don’t think you deserve it, and I don’t care if you don’t want me to say it. It’s a fucking fact. I love you and I’ve never loved anyone this much, and I know I never will again, no matter what happens. I am so painfully in love with you, Jonathan Crane. You may be afraid of your feelings, but I’m not afraid of mine,” you tell him without fear or trepidation in your heart.

If this is the end of the both of you, you may as well lay all your cards on the table. 

“Y/N...,” he sobs, looking away from you, and your heart breaks.

He truly is broken by all of this.

You gently grab his face and turn it towards you, “You tell me you care about me? Then show me. Show me just how much you care,” you beg softly, tears in your eyes. 

Just like that, he’s gone for you.

He’s crashing his lips into yours as he presses you against the wet shower tiles, your back squishing against it. It feels like Heaven. Moaning into the kiss, you grind yourself against him while his hands travel down your sides softly; almost as if he’s afraid to touch you, as if he feels like he doesn’t deserve it.

“Show me, Jonathan,” you breathe against his lips, begging him to give you a reason to fight for more. “Show me how much you care. Show me how much I mean to you.”

This time, he grips your thighs and hoists you up, no hesitation present as you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist while he trails kisses down your neck, desperate to cover every inch of you in them.

“Dr. Crane,” you whimper, running your fingers through his hair as one of his hands starts massaging one of your breasts.

“No...please don’t...call me by my name, I need to hear you say it,” he cries shamefully.

At least you can believe it’s more than a filthy hook up now.

“Jonathan...Jonathan I need to feel you,” you pant, eyes clenching shut at the feel of his fingers kneading your nipple between his fingertips. “I need you!” “I don’t deserve you,” he groans, slowly sliding you down on him.

“Shit!” you cry, still not used to the way he so easily pulls you apart. 

“I’m so sorry,” he husks, slowly moving within you, kissing along your neck, “I ruined everything and I’m sorry!”

“Just wanna be with you right now. Tired...tired of thinking,” you moan, focusing your attention back on him, which was extremely hard since he kept- “OH MY GOD! That’s the...fuck! Right there, don’t stop!”

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he marvels, his grip on you getting tighter as he helps you chase your release.

“I love you,” you sigh, feeling your core tightening.

“Y/N-”

“I love you,” you repeat, not relenting because of his guilt for his past.

It’s not like you ever meant to fall in love, or that you even wanted to you, but you did. For all your planning, and hoping for it to be a one time thing, it hasn’t panned out that way at all. 

“God, you’re clenching me so fucking tight, sweetheart,” he grunts, his movements becoming quicker as you dig your nails into his shoulders, “feels so good being inside of you...getting lost in you.”

“Fuck! Jonathan!”

“Never knew someone could ever love me like you do,” he continues with a breathless pant, changing his angle just a bit to hit that spot deep within you.

“Oh fuck!”

“Never knew how much I needed to be loved by you!”

“Jonathan...I can’t...I can’t...oh shit!”

“C’mon baby! Give it to me! I wanna feel your love!”

“YES!” you cry out, your release washing over you as you tighten your legs around Jonathan for fear of falling if you don’t.

The bastard may have broken your heart, but he’s the closest you’ll ever get to Heaven.

“You okay, baby?” he asks softly, tenderly stoking your face .

All you can do is nod.

“Do you need more?”

Once again, all you can do is nod. 

He’s quick to turn off the shower, keeping his hold on you tight as gets out of the shower. He walks you both to the bedroom, and your eyes land on Ivan’s dead body. God, of all the ways you thought this night was going to end, this wasn’t at all what you had in mind. 

“I want you on your back,” you tell him as he goes to lay you down.

You can tell that you’ve caught him off guard. He does what you want nonetheless, and lays back on the bed, looking at you with eyes that are filled with adoration and guilt. Usually you’re not on top unless he puts you up there. That’s rare because he likes hearing the screams that leave your mouth when he fucks you hard from behind, or watch as the euphoria overtakes you when he gives you an orgasm.

You place your hands on his chest and start to ride him slowly, your hips grinding against him, mouth slightly agape at the feel of the new angle and how deep he is.

“Touch me, Jonathan,” you beg pathetically, starting to pick up your pace once you’ve adjusted to him. “I want to feel you everywhere I can.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Jonathan, please. I just need you right now,” you practically sob.

There’s a dead man laying in your living room. Your best friend may never walk again. Someone tried to kill your Mother. Your ‘Uncle’ is laid up in the hospital and his wife has been killed. The man responsible for turning your life upside down in the best and worst ways during all this can’t even tell you that he loves you. 

If all you can have is temporary bliss that only he can provide, then you’ll take it and beg for him to show you the things he’s ashamed to show. Besides, who knows when you two will have each other like this again.

If ever.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful, baby,” he groans, his hands slowly traveling up your torso.

“You think so?” you question, your damp hair falling in front of your face as you look down at him, biting your bottom lip in a weak attempt to quiet your moans as he starts massaging your breasts.

No, having sex on your bed soaking wet probably isn’t the best idea, but it’s not like you’ll be sleeping in it for a while.

“Fuck yeah...GOD!” he groans as you roll your hips against his.

“Shit!”

“Gotta have you on top of me more often,” he husks, sitting up and wrapping his arms around you, “I love watching you take whatever you want from me. You can take whatever you need, baby. You can always take what you need from me,” he promises as he grips your ass.

“Oh fuck!”

“Bring yourself on my cock like the good girl you are, baby. I know you can fucking do it,” he encourages, licking his thumb before bringing it between the two of you, rubbing your most sensitive bud. 

“Jonathan!”

“I know you wanna cum for me, baby. I know you wanna make a mess all over me, don’t you, baby?”

“Fuuu-yes!”

“Cause you’re my good girl?” “Jonathan!”

“Say it, baby. Tell me you’re my good girl!”

“Fuck yes!” you cry out, lulling your head back as you squirt hard, floating out of your own body for just a moment. 

“My messy little princess,” he praises with a grunt.

In one swift move, you’re on your back and Jonathan is fucking into you relentlessly.

“Shit!”

“You’re always gonna be my girl, baby. I know I’m a mess right now, but I will fix this. I’ll make this right,” he promises, holding himself up as he cradles your face with the other hand.

Your eyes sting as you hold back tears at his words, because you honestly don’t know what the fuck to do. You don’t know what happens after all of this gets settled. 

“I don’t fucking deserve you,” he pants as his movements become erratic, “but I need you. I need you so damn much, baby!”

“Too...it’s too much,” you sob as you feel that knot in your core tighten.

“Give it to me, give me everything,” he begs breathlessly, his grip on neck getting tighter.

“JONATHAN!” you scream out, tears spilling over from the pleasure coursing through your body and the pain in your heart as you squirt hard. One hand grips him and the other grips the bed sheets.

“My perfect princess,” he groans as he spills inside of you, his hand almost giving out.

As he rides out both of your highs, the room is filled with nothing but your silent sobs and heavy breathing between the both of you. 

Not a word is said as he pulls out and you both start to get dressed. He’s first to exit as soon as he’s dressed, and you can only assume that he instantly goes to search through Ivan’s pockets. You take your time packing up what you deem necessary. You grab all of your photos, wanting to make sure that no one else gets hurt because of your...whatever with Jonathan. You pack up your laptop, Mr. Fin, the hideous ash tray Jonathan got you in Hawaii, a few books, some comfort clothes, and basic hair supplies. You give your room a once over, fighting back more tears, before making your way out to see Jonathan sitting at the kitchen island and drinking bourbon.

“Do you have everything?” he asks, not even looking in your direction as he swirls his drink around in the glass.

“Just have to grab makeup and hair products out of-”

“I can buy you more. It’s not important.”

“Then yes, I guess I have everything,” you snap, voice edging between anger and bitterness. “Do you have everything.” “Everything that I need,” he shrugs, downing the rest of his drink before putting it in the sink. “Lets go.”

You’re quick to grab the photo of your birthday party by the door on your way out, and shut the door behind you, walking past Jonathan in an attempt to get the elevator as fast as you can.

Your mind is racing and you just wanna lay down.

The entire elevator ride down, Jonathan is tapping his foot and fidgeting with his fingers. He’s mad at himself. You know that he thinks he revealed too much of himself to you, and that makes you even madder at him. He’s already broken your heart, what the hell does he think will happen if he’s actually sweet to you during intimacy? That you’ll go off and tell everyone in Gotham that he does, in fact, have a soul and a good heart?

It’s not like anyone would believe you anyway.

The second you two are back inside his house, you’re grabbing the things you left on the floor earlier, and racing up the steps. You’re more than happy to stay locked away in a room, but the only issue is that you don’t know any other room besides Jonathan’s.

“Just take my room,” he encourages softly as he makes his way up the steps. 

“I can stay in another-”

“None of the other rooms have been slept in, in years. My room is the only room ready, and the only one I feel comfortable having you in.”

“I don’t want to be around you.”

“Lucky for you, I won’t be sleeping much.”

“When you do-”

“I know my house better than you. I’ll stay far away from you, just take my damn room,” he instructs before turning and racing back down the steps and disappearing around a corner. 

You stick your tongue out in the direction he went before turning and making your way into his room, closing the door behind you. As you drop your bags, you look around and let out a deep breath.

Welcome to your new life for the next few weeks.

~~

#fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic #fanfiction #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane fic #jonathan crane fanfic #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x oc #cillian murphy character #cillian murphy characters #fan fic smut #fan fic writer #scarecrow dc #dc universe #dc comics #fanfic smut #jonathan crane

[your-nanas-house]

Shimmering gold

◇ Pairing: Robert Fischer X fem!reader

◇ Warnings: smut, blowjob, money, alchool, ring, mention of hookers

◇ Summary: Robert had a bad day at work and needed a stress relief.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. This is my first Robert Fischer fic!

Robert returned home in a bad mood, after one of the stressful days passed at his father's company. He called you earlier, when he was still in the taxi— and you could hear by his voice that it was one of those days.

As soon as he entered his apartment and his piercing blue eyes settle on you for a moment, he locked the door ordening with a firm voice the first action of the night

"Get undressed"

You raised your head from the magazine you were reading, putting it down and uncrossed your legs before getting slowly up to start to slowly remove your clothes like he asked you.

You moved in a sensual and calm way, just the way Robert liked it—

You grabbed two glasses of whiskey and walked closer to him, handing him one while staying in nothing but the golden ring he wanted you to wear.

Robert took the glass and drank it quickly, then looked at your naked body as he decided to approach you slowly— to look at your bare body closely.

He put his hands around your waist in a slow motion and pulled you close to him for a passionate kiss.

You kissed back, wrapping your hands around his neck, before moving them to get rid of his blue coat together with the belt he was wearing that day.

He usually didn’t got fully naked during those sessions of yours but today seemed different since he took off his shirt and threw it aside, revealing his pale freckled skin. Then he unbuckled his pants and let them fall to the floor, leaving him completely naked except for his white boxers.

You remained still, watching him with a kind of surprised look on your face, waiting for his next move since you couldn't understand where he was trying to lead things.

Your eyes remained on him as he picked up another glass of whiskey and drank it, before setting it down on the coffee table beside him.

Robert reached out and gently touched your cheek with his finger tips, tracing the outline of your jawline before running his fingers through your hair, his eyes focused on your face.

A smile creeped into his face as he leaned in close to whisper into your ear in a low tone

"I want you to suck my cock" , his breath hot against your skin created goosebumps.

You kneeled down without hesitation and reached for a condom; Robert watched as you knelt down before him, taking the condom from where it lay on the coffee table and rolling it onto his already erect cock.

Once it was securely in place, he reached down and guided your head towards his groin area, making a messy ponytail that was just told up by his firm grip.

You started to lick his balls first, then moved upwards until you finally reached his tip and started to suck it slowly, making sure not to go too fast as you gave attention to the full length with your hands.

As you began to suck on Robert's whole cock, he could feel himself growing harder and more sensitive under your skilled ministrations. He gripped your shoulders, pulling you even closer to him as he began to thrust his hips forward rhythmically, fucking your mouth roughly and fast— since he started to loose a bit his patience.

Feeling himself nearing the edge of his orgasm, he suddenly stopped thrusting and instead grabbed hold of your hair firmly, letting go of your bare shoulders. With one final deep thrust, he released a powerful burst of cum filling the condom with a low groan.

You moved away, removing the protection carefully— you tied it and threw it in the trash, bending slightly down as you did so.

Robert watched every action as he breathed heavily, then straightened back up to stand behind your bare body.

He reached out and ran his fingers through your hair once more before speaking in a low but soft voice

"That was amazing," he said simply, looking down at her with a satisfied expression on his face.

He took your hand, playing and studying the ring on your ring finger while leaving soft wet kisses on your neck.

"Check or cash today, dear" you asked as you started to put your clothes back on, assuring him that you would be back but that you had to go to another customer in half an hour.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @cup1ds-heart

#robert fischer x reader #robert fischer #robert fischer x you #robert fischer x y/n #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy character #inception

[hellotherekenobi]

WHAT GOES UP MUST COME DOWN. [v]

CHAPTER FIVE: MEET IN THE MIDDLE

Summary: living in the ghetto meant living on borrowed time. After a desperate attempt to add more to your clock, you find yourself in the middle of an ongoing arrangement with one of the head Timekeepers.

Word Count: 7,134

Warning(s): direct theft (written lowkey suggestively, might be sensitive to some); guns; blood & injury.

Index: Previous Chapter. | Masterlist.

There is no one you would ever admit to that you’re working for a Timekeeper. Or, rather, that you’ve helped a Timekeeper. But Charlotte seems to gain that information from you since you’re currently not thinking straight.

He knows your name.

Since the beginning, you’ve never shared it. He didn’t need to know and you didn’t need his name either, yet somehow, he’s found out.

Though there are many logical answers to how he got it, you can’t help but focus on all the irrational options; he asked around or he’s always known.

What is most likely the case is that he’s either looked you up in the registry or found your name scribbled somewhere in your apartment.

Speaking of, it’s too dangerous to go back there now. He knows where you live and if he’s stupid, he’ll check to see if you’re there, but he’s not stupid at all, so he’ll be out looking for you.

Hopefully, your cat will be okay. If he does go to your apartment, you know she’ll be happy at least. She’s always been good at looking after herself, as opposed to you who sometimes enters things head first without warning.

There are plenty of routes from behind the factory that you can take past the roller door. Unless he can track your directions, he will have to check each one. So, at least with that surety, you have some time on your plate before he catches up with you.

Maybe it’s a risky hideout, but you’re currently tucked away in one of the platforms of the train station, right beside the pipelines that travel toward the sewers. No one comes here and if they do, no one comes back.

The reason why you say that is because this is Minute Men territory. They scope around many places but after this platform was cleared out for stock dispatches only, they put their name on it.

It’s not the most clever of places to go, but it’s the only place near enough and also the only place he might not follow you into. So, for now, it’s your best bet, seeing as you and Charlotte can’t run forever.

She’s sitting beside the tracks, arms wrapped around herself as if she’s shivering, though you can tell that she’s not cold. After the sprint you both made, you’re sure she’s as exhausted as you.

“There’ll be a train soon,” you say, stepping beside her. “This is a pull-through station, so we just have to wait, but we should be safe for now.”

She nods, not looking you in the eye, and you sit down beside her with a sigh, wondering how this is possibly going to work.

You don’t know her. You don’t know what she’s done. What if she’s a murderer? It’s possible that helping her out is going to screw you over. After all, in this world, everyone looks out for themselves. You just happen to be the idiot who helped the wrong person and now you’re here.

Where after this, your only hope is upward.

“Why are you helping me?” She asks and her voice sounds so small you almost feel bad for all of this.

“Honestly?” You ask, shrugging your shoulders. “I have no idea.”

“But that guy at the factory,” she says, looking down at the tracks, “you gave him Time. Is he not a friend?”

She means Jayden. You gave him ten hours and then ran. Since you managed to get the roller door shut before he could catch you, you just hope he didn’t turn back around and confiscate the Time from Jayden. He saw you do it, so you can only imagine.

Since the moment you met Jayden, you’ve not called him your friend. Having friends in this life, especially in the ghetto, is tricky. They can be here one day and then gone the next, or they can leech off of you and get you killed. It’s not worth the stress.

But he’s never once asked you for a second and has been the longest-lasting person in your life since your family, so maybe you can stop worrying about titles and just call him what he is.

“Yeah,” you say, “he is my friend.”

Charlotte furrows her eyebrows. “So, why didn’t you help him?”

“I gave him Time,” you say confidently.

“But you took me with you.”

Not the best plan, it seems. Understandably, from her point of view, this whole thing is mad. After all, you’re a stranger. The only time before now that you’ve spoken to her is when you had to in order to get her name.

Aside from taking her with you, your intentions have been far from honest. It doesn’t take a scientist to figure that out, though it must be confusing for her.

“You walked into the room like you knew exactly who I am,” she says.

When you turn to face her, she’s looking at you. Her eyebrows are furrowed slightly, more so in an uncertain fashion rather than a sceptical gaze.

“Well,” you breathe out, “I know a little bit.”

“How much?” She asks, bringing her knees up.

With the two of you hiding out after the stunt you pulled back at the factory, you think there’s probably no coming back from this. Might as well let the truth out. There may never be another chance.

“I only know that you did something to upset that Timekeeper and how he’s been looking for you since.”

“You mean Leon?” She says, and you somehow can’t fit the name to his face. “How do you know him?”

“It’s a long story,” you shake your head. “I needed Time and he needed information. It kind of snowballed from there.”

Charlotte nods, taking in the details, though you’ve only given so much away. It almost doesn’t feel like you. When you think back on everything, it seems so impossible.

To think this started out with you pointing a finger down the road and his wrist on yours. Now, you’ve stolen from him, skipped out on your shift, and are hiding with who you can only assume is a fugitive.

All of the simple things seem a little bit bigger now, though.

Letting him into your apartment, talking to him about your cat, standing so close to him and him being so strong with you. That ice-cold stare of his was something you shied away from, then became hard to look anywhere else.

Just remembering those moments sends a tingle up your spine, so focused on how it all felt that it’s like he’s breathing against your neck right now, or that he’s so hot on your tracks that his cologne is greeting you first.

But when you take a look around the platform and see it as empty as when you first came here, you know you’re imagining things.

“He asked me to find you,” you admit aloud. “He didn’t say what for, but he already knew you’d be at the factory.”

She nods. “I thought so. I’ve never been a fast runner.”

“You did pretty well back at the factory. Smart thinking, too, for knocking over those capsules.”

She smiles faintly, locking her fingers in place around her legs. Everything she does—all of her mannerisms—makes her seem so young. Maybe your guess of her just turning twenty-five is not far off. If that’s the case, she’s started off her clock pretty rough.

Imagine only just learning to portion your Time and you’re unlucky enough to get the attention of a Timekeeper of all people. Being in their bad books is not a premium place to be.

“He wants my Time,” she says softly, then shakes her head. “Well, his Time. I stole it from him.”

“Why?” You ask though you’re sure you know the reason.

It’s most likely the same reason as everybody else; desperation. But the fact that she had the guts to take even a second from him seems insane, especially from someone so quiet.

“I had an hour left,” she explains. “It was raining and there was no one around. Then I saw his car driving down the road and I got desperate. I waved him down and told him I saw Minute Men. When his back was turned, I slipped into the driver’s seat and took his per diem. But he saw me before I could disappear, so I ran.”

You’ve been desperate before and, sure, you’ve risked a lot by going behind his back today, but what Charlotte just admitted to is a death wish. No one touches a Timekeeper’s car and no one dares to take their Time, and, if they even try it, no one makes it out alive.

How Charlotte managed to steal the Time right from under him, you’ll never begin to understand. But the details of her story only make the cogs turn faster in your head as you’re pretty sure you know exactly what night she’s referring to.

It was that same night that you saw him again. Like Charlotte said, it was raining and his car was just left in the middle of the street with the door wide open. Sure, you entertained the idea of stealing his per diem yourself, but you never slipped far enough to actually do it.

Then you found him in that empty building. He was drenched from head to toe and looked like he had been running. As it turns out, he had been. He was looking for Charlotte but got you instead and now it makes sense as to why he offered the job to you in the first place.

Most likely he took one look at you and thought ‘this is my chance’ to find Charlotte and get back his Time. You were never a player in all of this, you’ve been a pawn.

“So, that’s why.” You say, connecting all the dots in your head.

Taking you out of the equation is just a bonus to him. He knew that Charlotte would be at the factory and in setting up a sweep he could catch her and eliminate your involvement with him in the process. Two birds with one stone.

Somehow, hearing the truth doesn’t ease your questions. In fact, you only have more of them because if he really only sees you as a piece he can move around as he pleases, then why did he give so much Time away in the first place?

And why, only a couple of hours before, was he so willing to give them back to you after the sweep?

You swear, the more you learn, the less you understand.

“I know it’s bad but I was going to time out,” Charlotte speaks.

Shaking your head, you give her a reassuring look. “It’s okay, you don’t have to defend yourself with me. I’ve done some risky things too.”

“You mean,” she looks at you, “by helping Leon?”

“Uh, yeah. By helping... him.”

When she cocks a brow, you partly chuckle.

“Sorry, I’m not used to his name.”

“Oh,” she says it like it’s completely surprising to her, but you haven’t a clue why it would be.

After all, there’s no need for you to know his name, especially now. Any association you have with him is cut off now. It’s probably for the best. Yet, you can’t help but feel a little weighted at the thought that if you step carefully from here on out, you may never see him again.

You already know it like you know the numbers tick down on your wrist that you will never meet a Timekeeper like him again. To be fair, there’s no one who’s like him. Still, things have ended quicker than you thought they would.

Is this really how you’re going to say goodbye to your partner in crime? You’ve always shuddered at the description but you know it’s true. Whenever you thought about this ending, you always imagined him running off, not you.

“What did he take you in for?” Charlotte asks.

You furrow your brows. “What?”

“Back at the factory, I saw him take you into another room.”

“Oh, right, that—” swallowing thickly, you wonder how exactly to phrase it. “I guess you can say he fired me.”

“Before or after you stole the capsule from him?”

“That part is a little tricky to explain,”

With her questions, you’re starting to look at this in a different way. Not entirely the rebellious tendency you thought you had, but a lingering intention you don’t even want to fathom.

At the end of the day, he’s a Timekeeper and you’re the person who cheated him. Even though you only did it because you thought he was crossing you first. Sometimes it pays not to jump the gun.

Yet, you don’t have time to focus on it so intently as there’s a rumble coming from behind the archway and you can hear the scraping of the wheels against the track.

“That’s our ride,” you say, standing up and looking at the damaged screen on the wall.

It still functions to read when a train will pass by, surprisingly, and Charlotte is up on her feet and waiting for the train to come into view, though it sounds a fair way off still.

Except, it won’t stop. As you mentioned before, this is only a pull-through station. No one man’s the trains, it’s all run on fuel and Time, just going from one station to the next with cargo loaded in its carts.

Some people have tried to jump the train before and get into the next Zone without having to fork a single second, but with the threat of Minute Men around the corner, no one’s gotten very far.

If you continue standing here, though, you most likely will get the same experience. The train is usually long and travels relatively slowly, so something big will have to happen for you to miss it. Otherwise, you and Charlotte are in the clear.

“One of the carts should be open,” you say, “so when you see it, jump on.”

She whirls around to face you, eyes slightly widened. “Jump?”

“It’s the only way out,” you explain. “If you want to stay here, that’s fine by me, but I’m taking it as far as I can.”

If you can at least get out of the ghetto, you should be all right. It’s a definite that Leon will still be looking for you, but at least you’ll be further ahead than sticking around in the same place.

Something rattles down the other end of the track and for a moment you think you see the black leather of his coat, but out from the shadows steps one person, then two, then three, and you know just by the number who they are.

“Found you,” one of the Minute Men says.

He’s the same blonde one who took four hours from your clock that night in the rain and you wonder how you could have let so much time pass without you noticing.

This stupid train couldn’t have come sooner to save you from this. No, instead, it’s still clattering down the track, still not in sight. There’s nowhere to go.

“We heard about the noise at the factory,” he says, stepping onto the platform and making a tsk sound. “Didn’t your parents ever teach you to share?”

You stand in front of Charlotte as they approach and hope to find an exit that you can both run for before they can turn your clocks to zero. Being in a remote area like this is not good, especially with the new company.

There’s only one way out, however, and it’s taking its sweet time to come here.

The three of them circle the two of you, looking at you like vultures, and the main of the group holds his hand out.

“Give me the capsule,”

Damn. It’s just your luck that as soon as you get enough hours to keep yourself stable, a bunch of goons come to take it away. Word travels faster than you thought it would. At least that’s the only thing they’re here for.

It would be foolish of you to try and run or to trick them out. You’ve handled enough danger for today and you’d rather get this over with. Besides, you can’t run faster than a train and if you attempt it, you’ll be flattened in a heartbeat.

Reaching a hand into your pocket, you pull out the capsule and slap it against his palm, which he chuckles at. He turns it over to look at the hours on the viewer and seems pleased by the number he reads.

“You know,” he starts, “I think you’re our most reliable supplier. You always seem to have the Time we need.”

“It’ll catch up to you eventually,” you grit. “It always does and people like you always deserve it.”

He laughs, looking at his friends with a smug smile.

“You’re fun, you really are. But biting back costs more—”

He grabs your wrist, pulling you forward. You trip from the sudden force and he tugs your sleeve up, twisting your arm painfully so that he can read your clock.

“Hey!” Charlotte shouts, but as she steps forward one of the Minute Men grabs her and holds her still.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn,” says the sicko holding your wrist. “Good things to those who wait.”

He tilts your arm without another warning and the numbers start to spin, moving from your clock to his. They flicker past one hour, then another, and then another, and you know that he’s not going to stop. You’re at the tracks, you think, so who’s going to know what happens?

When you have an hour left, you feel your heart sink in your chest and you try to yank your arm back, but his grip is clamped like an iron rod. All those stories of people seeing their life flash before their eyes are true since as the numbers keep rolling, you see your life roll by, too.

Then, an explosive sound ricochets across the platform, lighting up the tracks for a split second, and the sound scares him enough to let go of your arm and turn toward the noise.

In the midst of heavy footsteps which echo over to where you all stand, there’s a clicking sound that’s unmistakable and then the nuzzle of the gun comes into view as someone emerges from the darkness.

It welcomes another kind of darkness, except this time when you see his face, your mood lifts.

“Step away from them,” Leon says, gun aimed at the Minute Men.

The blonde one snickers, stepping away from you, and then within another second, he’s pulling out a revolver and firing it in Leon’s direction.

He manages to dodge it and shoots back, hitting one of the pipes that burst and steam spouts out of it. It swipes one of the Minute Men and he tumbles to the side, and as Leon gets closer, dodging another bullet fired at him, he reaches out to grab the guy’s wrist and twists his arm, knocking him down to his knees and throwing the revolver onto the tracks.

The guy behind Charlotte pulls out a gun of his own but Leon shoots at his hand and it drops to the floor, and the guy screams out as he clamps a hand across the fresh wound on his skin.

“Don’t move,” he growls, reaching down to snag the capsule that the blonde guy is still holding.

When he shoves it into his pocket, he nudges the guy’s back with the tip of his gun. He’s all intimidating and authoritative but with a simple glance in your direction, you see the distress in his eyes.

It’s not a look you’re used to seeing, especially directed at you, yet somehow it feels truthful. With him standing there, all of your worries are eased. The transition from cautious to caring isn’t as outlandish as you thought it could be.

Right now, you’re glad you stole that capsule off of him because if you didn’t, he wouldn’t have saved your life. That seems to be a reoccurring theme with you two.

Then he’s shoving at the guy’s shoulder, and that bark in his voice reaches you even from where you stand.

“Get out of here,”

The blonde guy stands, looking between Leon, you, and Charlotte with a clenched jaw, and then gestures for his mob to follow him. They walk down the platform and back from where they came and as soon as they’re gone, Leon turns around to meet you.

Closing the distance, even by a hair’s breadth, is remedying.

“How much did he take?” He asks it hurriedly, slotting the gun back into his holster.

For a moment, you don’t speak. The rush of everything that just happened hasn’t exactly sunk in yet, nor is the fact that he’s not aiming the gun at you instead.

“I don’t know,” you say honestly, only knowing it was enough to leave you running on empty.

After you saw an hour, you were too scared to watch the rest of the numbers fall. They would have gone straight to zero if he hadn’t shown up. Just a second later and you’d be on the ground.

He nods his head and touches your sleeve with careful fingers, looking up at you for a moment, waiting for your approval—something especially considerate after what you’ve done, and it makes your heart flutter—before rolling the sleeve up.

He sucks in a breath when he sees the thirty minutes ticking away.

“Here,” he holds out the capsule. “Take it.”

Absurdly, you shake your head at that, leaning away from the Time that can save your life.

“No,”

“What?” He asks, clearly stunned by your response.

“I can’t take that.”

He groans, pressing two fingers into the bridge of his nose.

“Why are you so stubborn?”

“Why aren’t you mad?”

When he looks at you silently, you can feel your own anger bubbling. He’s doing it again—he’s helping you when all you’ve done is betray him. Though you ask him heatedly, you feel a swirl in your stomach that’s too frightening to name and the thought of how pleased you were to see him.

In a ridiculous way, him coming back for you—instead of hunting you down like you thought he had done, using the years of experience on his belt to apprehend you—erases all those tally marks you drew against him. Now, they’re all ticks.

Though you’re grateful, you can’t wrap your head around why he isn’t shouting at you. It’s not exactly the welcome you were expecting.

In a way, having him be mad at you would stop the racing of your heart. Surely, you’re feeling this way because of how close you were to timing out, but even still, you always expect worse than what you get with him.

His eyes flicker behind you and you realize that for a moment, you’ve completely forgotten about Charlotte.

“Are you going to arrest us?” She asks.

He looks at you both for a moment, stretching out the uncertain silence, before shaking his head.

“No. I’ve chased you both long enough. There are better ways to spend my Time.”

It’s not said as pointedly as you would have assumed. There’s no malice or agitation. Instead, his voice is coated in sympathy. He looks nothing like a Timekeeper now and it complicates all the feelings you have for him, even though the term feelings is something you wanted to never associate with him.

After everything, it seems they’ve creeped up on you.

“Here’s your exit,” he nods his head over at the train that finally comes into the station, teetering past.

It’ll go far away from here, the tracks that stretch on for miles, all pointing away from the ghetto, and he’s nudging you right toward the escape.

“But,” you start, taking one step in his direction and then hesitating. “Everyone at the factory saw what I did.”

If you leave now, go as far as you can, your name is going to plastered to every Timeshare, every bank, every workplace, and every headquarters for the Timekeepers. It doesn’t matter at all if you can run fast. All that matters is disappearing.

Knowing that now, you wish you had done things differently. But you were tipsy on the hope that you could escape with Charlotte.

Leon takes the step you didn’t, moving in closer. “You mean skipping out of work?”

When you look at him confusedly, he smiles. It’s the first time you see him look like that. Strangely, you hope it’s not the last but you know you’ll likely never see him again.

He knows it better than anyone that you didn’t simply skip out of work. Everyone saw you run from him and they most likely all saw the capsule in your hand. There’s no way even he can convince them all to keep quiet about what happened, especially your boss. That man is the real scum of the earth.

“That’s the only report I’ll send back and—” he looks past you. “The case of my thief will be closed. I just happened to lose you at the train station.”

It takes you by surprise as much as it does for Charlotte who looks at Leon like he’s spouted out an equation she can’t solve. But that’s what he is at the end of the day; a riddle with no answer.

He won’t report back to headquarters, that’s what he’s just said. He won’t tell them about you or the stolen Time or even Charlotte who he’s been on the prowl for. All of it will only be kept between you three and the people who saw.

You know it better than anyone that the word of a Timekeeper is more valued than of the people, so no one will question it even if they have evidence. This, much like most things in the ghetto, will be swept under the rug.

Does he have to do it so fast? Even though that’s how life has to be lived with a clock constantly ticking away, you want to slow everything down with him. Everything can stop, just let him stay.

His surrender must come as a relief to Charlotte after having run for so long and when you stare at him, it seems he reads your mind with that and he holds the capsule out for her.

“Take it,” he says. “This never happened.”

She reluctantly takes the capsule, tilting it in her hand like she’s distributing the weight as if the Time inside is actually heavy. There are a lot of hours in there and it’ll be enough to get her as far away from the ghetto as possible.

With the capsule, she can start a new life. The crazy thing about it is how a Timekeeper is the one to give her that chance.

“You’re different,” Charlotte says, looking right at him.

For a moment, they just stare at each other. His gaze, which once was so frigid and harsh, is more human now. Then she smiles, very faintly but it’s there.

“Thank you.”

He nods. “You take the train and you run.”

She’s quicker now, knowing that this is her one and only opportunity to get the freedom she’s been hoping for and makes her way across the space to take it before it’s too late.

Charlotte waits for an opening on one of the carts, watching intently as the train keeps moving forward. With all the cargo that it’s carrying, the last few carts will most likely be the only ones to hitch a ride on.

Out of everyone, you should be the one moving quick, but knowing now that this really is the end is keeping you frozen in place.

When you turn to him, his eyes say that you can’t stay here and you know that. You’re sure there are less than twenty-five minutes on your clock and you’ll have to take some Time from Charlotte before you both separate since there’s no way you can get to a Timeshare soon enough.

But if this is the end, you can’t leave without a few answers.

“You know my name,” you say, watching him closely.

His cold eyes soften and the whole of him looks so human. The leather on his back is no longer frightening. Now, it’s just a coat. The man beneath the exterior, though, is someone you’ve grown to know better than you think anyone has before you.

When you leave, you won’t just be walking out of here with a target off of your back but you’ll be walking out of his life, too, and with an intimacy you couldn’t have ever imagined.

“I got curious,” he tells you. “I wanted to know who you are.”

“And did you find out?”

He huffs, shaking his head, and his jaw clenches.

“Yeah,” he breathes, catching your gaze. “You’ve left a severe mark on me.”

You smile, somehow feeling proud at that but happy about it, too. When you both part ways, you’ll still be on each other’s minds. It’s happened against your will, shoving itself to slot between your heart and your ribcage, but you think you wear it well.

“That makes two of us,”

With a skip of your pulse, you want to rectify all the bad things you’ve done. Not in life or against the system, but toward him. He might have started out cold but he soon warmed up and you were too stubborn to let yourself thaw out.

“I’ve been nothing but terrible to you,”

“Let’s not,” he says like he’s exhausted.

“But after everything—”

He reaches out to hold your wrist, his fingers wrapped around you urgently. With only his touch, it speaks volumes.

It’s absurd but you get lost in his eyes, waiting for him to say more or anything else. There aren’t any reasonable things he could say. At least, you know that all the things you want to hear aren’t possible.

But even after you leave, you want to have this. You want to know that you could feel a certain way to someone and that after all the years you’ve spent alone, you could call someone, not just a friend but more than that.

Leon isn’t your friend. He never will be. But you want more.

“Go,” he whispers.

When he lets go of your arm, his hand instead pushing lightly at your back to encourage you toward the train, you hate to think that this is it. He’s saved you again and you’ll never have enough to repay it.

If Time was not an issue, you would have stayed there with him for hours. You feel as if you’ve taken all the moments in your apartment for granted and that you’ve wasted so much on all the silence, too.

Peering down the tracks, you can make out the last few carts. Within a few more seconds, you’ll be gone quicker than the first deal you made with him.

“I didn’t thank you,” Charlotte says. “If you didn’t help out at the factory, I might not be here.”

“Yeah, catch me doing that again,” you chuckle. “Just don’t steal from any more Timekeepers, okay?”

She nods, smiling briefly.

There’s more you want to say but you know that your Time has to come first, so you start to ask Charlotte if she can give up at least an hour when suddenly gunfire comes crashing through the other end of the tracks and you duck, scampering to the side.

Leon’s come running over to you both, standing in front of you like a human shield while you look at where the attack came from. On the other side, you can see the Minute Men have returned with a newfound determination, it seems, and the blonde one from earlier is firing shot after shot in your direction.

For the most part, Leon manages to cover you and Charlotte well, but then his arm gets nipped by a bullet and he stumbles backwards, right against your outstretched palms.

He doesn’t give you a second to say anything, instead, he shouts out clear enough for you both to hear, “Get on the train!”

Charlotte is moving fast and you push her when she hesitates at the edge of the platform, sending her straight into the open cart that is moving past, rolling until she hits the far side.

You’re about to jump across the gap but a bullet hits the handle that you’re reaching for and you leap backwards, covering your head out of instinctual protection.

By the time you’re stumbling right into Leon’s hold—his arms keeping you from falling over—the train is whirling down the tracks with the last of the carts.

There goes Charlotte and there goes the capsule. If there weren’t Minute Men to worry about, you’d be chasing after the train with all the breath in your lungs, but it’s already past the archway and there’s no luck in trying to catch it.

For now, Leon keeps you covered as he nudges you toward the baggage room, shutting the door behind you both with force. He keeps his back pressed up against it as you look around for a place to go, and only manage to find one way out.

“The ladder,” you point to it.

He nods hurriedly. “Go, I’m behind you.”

If you had more Time than him, you’d be forcing him up at the ladder before you, but as much as you’re worried about the Minute Men knocking down that door, you know that he’s got it covered.

Quickly, you begin to climb the ladder which leads up to a manhole. When you push open the cover, Leon has started climbing up behind you, and you pull yourself out onto the road above the train station.

It’s hot and the sun is beaming down on you with aggression. Turning around, you help Leon out of the hole and hurry to close it shut, even though it won’t do you much good without a lock.

As soon as he’s beside you, he grabs your hand and runs down the road, and in the distance, you can see his car. It’s standing out like the black knight you had first seen on that night in the rain, and you push for it with all you’ve got.

But as you get nearer, another gunshot rings through the air and you hear Leon shout, and then he’s tripping over his boots and lands on the concrete, almost about tugging you down with him before his hand slips out of yours.

Before you can even check to see how severe his injury is, you’re having to dodge the rest of the bullets firing in your direction, and the intensity of it pushes you down the road, back behind his car, shielded from the shooting.

In the distance where the Minute Men still stand by the manhole, you hear them laugh.

“Get up!” They taunt, watching as Leon rolls onto his side with a groan.

You don’t know where exactly he’s been shot but all you know is that it’s hit him somewhere bad, seeing his blood splattered on the concrete.

“I tell you what,” shouts the blonde guy, “I’ll do you a favor and put the gun away.”

As you look around the car, you watch as he tucks his gun into the waistband of his pants, raising two empty hands to show that he’s done just as he said.

“Call it even,” he says, gesturing at one of the members of his mob whose hand was shot earlier by Leon.

It’s uncharacteristic for them to surrender, or even walk away, but they all seem set on their decision to leave.

They still laugh as they turn around, walking over to their car which is parked on the side. They all pile in and as Leon slowly stands, you think that this is finally over, but then the engine kicks to life and they’re on the move.

Everything is so spaced out that even attempting to get to Leon before the Minute Men can isn’t possible. The car is near the manhole, Leon is in the centre of the road, and you’re all the way behind his car.

With the engine howling, you feel completely useless at the thought that there’s nothing you can do to stop it. The Minute Men are eager to take down Leon, not content enough with a bullet hole.

The car speeds down the road, the tires so hot on the cement that smoke is left trailing after it. It pulses forward, screeching closer, and you feel your heart lump in your throat.

He stands there and watches the car race toward him and just before it gets too close, he takes out his gun and aims for the front bumper. The bullet pierces the air and wedges in between the spaces of the radiator grille, sparking a fire and it begins to smoke.

As it bursts, the car swivels from left to right, and the driver inside turns the wheel harshly, sailing off of the road and straight into the cement block on the path. It crashes with fury, blackened clouds growing from the bonnet.

When the smoke fizzles away, a dusty grey lingering in the air, you peer past the damage to see that he’s still standing, still alive. You let out a breath of relief, raising your hands to your head.

But when you do, you see the flashing numbers on your wrist and your heart sinks. On your clock, you have two and a half hours.

For a moment, you’re completely disoriented at how you have that amount on you. The last time you looked, there were thirty minutes and you were too frightened to check up on it after that. You had needed Time from Charlotte but the opportunity didn’t last long.

Then, suddenly, you understand what’s happened. The only other moment you could have gotten Time is when Leon grabbed your arm. You weren’t paying attention to the numbers. Instead, you were fixated on him.

He swapped the Time like you swapped the capsules, instead with his hand on your wrist, distracting you with words so that you couldn’t focus on the pulse.

With every Time transfer, it fluctuates with a throbbing feeling, so you can always feel it. But he managed to divert your attention. From his wrist to yours, he gave you two hours.

Everyone knows that Timekeepers don’t have a lot of Time on them. It’s to discourage thieves, so if he’s given you two hours then he must only have a few minutes left, or not even. He’s exchanged his survival with yours.

Like he’s always done, he’s given you Time. He’s saved your life. And you know now that you need to return the favor. Since the start, he’s looked out for you but you’ve been too blind to realize it. If he’s willing to die so that you can live, there’s no second-guessing it.

Losing him, ridiculously, is the worst thing you can imagine.

So you shout, “Leon!”

Despite the distance, you can see the confusion on his face, wondering how you know his name, and then altogether it shifts into hope and before either of you are thinking it, you’re running toward each other.

You’ve never run so fast in your life, not even when you were escaping the factory, but this time you have a newfound purpose and this time you’re running to him, outstretching your arm and hoping that you’ll reach him before his Time can disappear.

You need him. Not for Time, but for a selfish feeling that you can’t carry on alone. Now that he’s a part of your life, you can’t live without him in it.

The air is hot as you breathe heavily, running down the road. He’s just as burned out, heaving from the excursion and the wound that is most likely draining him.

He must have seconds and when you leap for him as you grow near, you let out a whimper with the dread of not knowing.

Leon gasps as your arm slides up against his, pressing your wrist to his skin and turning over the digits. His other arm wraps around you as you collide with his chest, and he holds you against him as you breathe against his leather coat, eyes screwed shut.

You’re panting with tears forming behind your lids, too scared to open them and see if you were too slow. But when neither of you falls, you know you’ve made it.

Pulling back slightly, enough for the two of you to look down and read the hour pulsing on his wrist, you let out a breath of relief, fingers curling into his leather coat with knuckles turned white.

He’s all right. He’s alive. You made it.

“I get it now,” you say, exhausted with an anxious tear running down your cheek. “I know what this is.”

He looks pleased, his hand reaching up to wipe the tear away with his thumb but leaving it there to gently rub featherlight circles on your skin. His touch is gentle and caring. It’s soothing.

“You took your time,” he says.

You grin, knowing it’s true. It’s taken you until now to realize that there’s more to his reasons for saving you and that he’s not as black and white as you always assumed.

What he said about you having a prejudiced gaze is right because if you had paid attention instead of jumping to conclusions, you would have noticed earlier that his intentions have been fueled by emotion.

It’s ridiculous and you can only think, why him? Out of all people to fall for, you fall for a Timekeeper. But he fell first and that only convinces you further.

Grabbing the flaps of his leather coat, you pull him forward and press your lips to his, kissing him with candor. All the trepidation, vivacity, and doubt combine into an intoxicating drive to damn all the consequences and let your feelings win.

He replicates those feelings by deepening the kiss like your lips are air and pulling you flush to his chest, erupting a low rumble from his throat that vibrates against your lips and sends a tingle up your spine.

From here on, things will never be the same. But you’ve changed a lot from meeting him for the first time until now.

After all, it makes sense that you’d fall for the only person who’s ever given you Time and in return, you give him all of you.

‎

A/N: thank you all for your support, comments, & reblogs for this series! I appreciate every single one. It was fun writing my first original fanfic series, so thank you all for contributing to the experience.

Taglist: @overly-obsessed-with-you @justrunamok @transias @dameronology @mcrmarvelloki @laura-naruto-fan1998 @slfcares @the1redrose @ironwinterhawk @hellolitty @faesecrets @sithvibestillidie @captainflirt @raymond-leon @wormsinoveralls @aranoburns @amysteryspot @homosexualisopod @elenagrace @cristinagronk16 @rogers060967 @starryadi @lanireadz @normanbates-coveredinblood @nah-im-g @lizyshores @arrynnat @cheezbot @captivatedbycillianmurphy @tartarsaucegaryen @sansmerci @listenstringbean @innocenceneverfound @thenattitude @junkfoodworld @whyskeysour @mercurygguk @paranoidnihilist @mrkdvidal1989 @jyessaminereads @atlanticowe

#raymond leon x reader #raymond leon imagine #raymond leon fanfic #raymond leon #in time #in time (2011) #cillian murphy #cillian murphy character #:what goes up must come down

[elk96]

@koipondering Ivan is such a beautifully crafted character, and as Aloft was weird enough to require a second watch, I could notice a few stuff which charmed me. Like the way he talks so abruptly and puts 0 effort into being polite, the way that even tho he loves his family, he is just so consumed by the unresolved feelings towards his mother. The narration for the interview of how his brother got injured seemed so convincing on his part, that it made me think he actually has convinced himself up to a certain point that that's what happened.

The ice-is-gonna-break scene was thrilling too, because at first I though Ivan knows what he's doing, she is being ignorant, but then the atmosphere shifted and his vulnerability was shown. The scene where he finds out she is sick and gets so angry-and after that, their...I don't know mutual understanding, where they look each other over the window. And (no I'm not obsessed) the way he literally pushed his face against the cold window, as if to say sorry.

The crying scene was completely heartbreaking, made me feel uneasy, he was so angry, and, for once during the whole movie we see clearly how guilt has been eating him alive.

Also, the scene where they shoot his falcon while he was a kid was honestly quite shocking.

That poor mother's drama was way beyond one that hasn't lived something similar can understand, but my notice is that...I don't know, she didn't seem to behave to Ivan like a kid, but rather an opponent? An equal, a grown up, which he wasn't, tough though he might be. Eg she should have hugged him, while they said goodbye, she should have understood that is was a reaction when he screamed his brother was gonna die anyway.

Long story short, yes, Ivan and his fucked up coping mechanisms and unresolved feelings are wonderfully interesting, and he is a beautiful, lovable (even if not in the first analysis) character.

P,S. Sorry, for this loong answer, you answered my comment and I straight up jumped on the chance, but it's such an overlooked movie and character, I've been wanting to rant about him a lot.

#aloft #cillian murphy character #cillian murphy aloft #ivan cillian murphy #aloft 2014

[indiee19]

Quick lil sneak peak at a Cillian Murphy fic I’m writing.

Jim (28 Days Later…) x reader

—————-——•—————-——•—————-——•

The kiss was sloppy, to say the very least, but neither of you cared, just glad to finally taste each other after such a long time. Jim quickly deepened the kiss by biting on your bottom lip, allowing him to ease his tongue into your mouth, finessing your tongue into submission. His hands left your face to wander your body. After wandering your body for a minute, he finally settled on your breasts, feeling then through the thin silk fabric of your camisole and your bra.

He squeezed roughly, which made you fall back into reality, realizing that they had dinner not long from now. Reluctantly, you pulled away from the kiss, taking Jim's hands away from your chest. He looked at you, worried he'd done something wrong. "Jim, we can't ... Not right now, not when dinner isn't in that long," you stated, looking him directly in the eyes. 

You could see in his eyes lust, though. And that look wasn't going away anytime soon.  Quickly, Jim leaned in to kiss you again, mumbling against your lips. "Fuck that. I've not been inside you for weeks. They can wait a little bit for us," it was all mumbled but you squeezed your legs together, which didn't go unnoticed by Jim.

He smirked against your lips as he maneuvered one of his hands between your legs. He smirked as he felt you close your legs tighter around his hand. Jim parted from your lips and pushed you down on the bed, beginning to work on leaving marks on your neck, reclaiming you as his. 

Your hands wasted no time as they made their way to his head, gripping his hair the best you could with how short it was.  As he worked on your neck, his hand had managed to push your thighs apart and made its way into your shorts, rubbing your slick folds through your lace underwear.

In response, you moaned. You hadn't felt his touch in what felt like forever. Hell, you  barely remembered what his touch felt like. His skin was soft as it normally was after he'd gotten out of the shower. His body was warm against your own.  It gave you a little glimpse into what the world was like, what your world was like, before the infection began. 

Jim's touches were tender, trying to savor the feeling of you for as long as he possibly could. And though he tried to prolong the foreplay, he couldn't help himself and desperately needed to feel you around him.  So, he quickly pulled his hand away from your core and out of your shorts, to your dismay, of course. He pulled down your shorts and lace underwear in one go, throwing them to the floor. 

You quickly got the idea and helped him pull his shirt off of him. Then, you quickly began to undo the button on his pants and pull them down so that he could kick them off. Now, you could feel his hard cock more now, making you let out a slight moan. 

You felt Jim smirk against your neck as he slowly moved his way down your body to your heat. Once he reached your core, he looked up at you and smirked before licking a bold stripe up your folds, causing you to shudder. He held your thighs in a tight grip, spreading them further until he could properly bury his head between your legs. You pushed his head down as he licked and sucked at your clit. 

You let out a loud moan as he pushed two fingers inside of you, and very quickly, you covered your mouth with your other hand. 

It had been what felt like forever since he last tasted you on his tongue, and he wanted to savor it. Jim skillfully ate you like he always did before the outbreak and his accident. He shook his head into you, lapping at your soaked core until he built up that coil in your stomach. 

"Fuck, Jim, I'm close," you moaned. And then he raised his head from in between your legs, removing his fingers from you. "What the fuck, Jim? I was so close!" You complained, the feeling slowly disappearing. 

"I know, but I want you to cum around my cock," he said before raising over you and lining his cock up with your entrance. 

Then, he pushed into you, the two of you moaning at the tight, hot feeling that neither of you have felt in weeks. "Oh, fuck," he moaned as he sank all the way into you.

#cillian murphy character #cillian murphy #cillian #jim 28 days later #28 days later #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #smut

[scarecrowismybabygirl]

#this is about cillian murphy's characters #Tommy Shelby #Jonathan Crane #will never forgive nolan for not giving us a long fight scene where dr babygirl ends up covered in his own blood #basic needs #batman #scarecrow #batman begins #cillian murphy #nolanverse #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #red eye #Jackson Rippner #28 days later #red lights #tom buckley #maslow's hierarchy of needs #poor little meow meow #babygirl

[edsiee]

I cant help it I love men covered in blood

#hot characters #hot actors #cillian murphy #peaky blinders #scream #daredevil #matt murdock #steven yeun #patrick bateman #american psycho #hannibal #mads mikkelsen #kick ass #aaron taylor johnson

[look-at-the-soul]

Can’t love in the dark (Part 2)

Tommy Shelby x reader

Sequel to “All I ask”

Request: kind of 🤭 @l1-l4 Andy threw a fantastic idea one day and I saw it, and from that moment I’ve been thinking about it daily… until this idea worked perfectly with another request for my Adele challenge ♥️ Andy, you asked for an angsty story, here you go! I hope you and everyone else like it 🥰 that gif was amazing and summed Tommy’s anger.

Summary: (There’s a time jump between this and the first part) Tommy keeps watching over Y/N, sending flowers, even after getting married to someone else. Until one day he exploded after finding the truth that caused a terrible accident.

“Can’t love in the dark” is one of my favorite Adele songs, the sentiment she sings with every time she performs it on stage gives me chills 🥹

⚠️ Angst but with a little surprise at the end 🤭

Word count: 4,727 (without the lyrics)

Making the decision to let Tommy go was the hardest thing you ever had to do, but it was for the best, or at least you tried to convince yourself of that. Crying your heart out at night you tried to comfort yourself by thinking that his baby would be able to grow next to his father. Forcing yourself to push aside the feelings and expectations you started to develop towards Tommy and the future he had shared with you that’d be taking off right after the races.

He’d have another priorities from now on.

The following day you quit your part time job at the Shelby Company Ltd. and focused entirely on the shoes shop. Tommy tried absolutely everything in his power but all he got in response was a sad glance that broke his heart or you leaving him at the shop speaking to himself while you pretended to be busy in the back.

There was nothing to be angry or resentful towards him, he slept with Grace before meeting you after all… but deep down you wished it was you instead of her the one getting pregnant.

With a heavy heart you thought how you could only dream of what could’ve been.

You had been on the edge ever since, struggling to sleep, eating the bare minimum, you felt like a fragile thing that’d break at the slightest contact, trying to hide from your poor father the sadness that you carried around like a heavy weight on your shoulders.

Nothing seemed to be working out the way he had planned. Not after you made it very clear that the future he had envisioned of the two of you together wasn’t possible, he held the hopes still, thinking you’d accept the marriage proposal and he could be there for his son, but you quickly let him him know that was way too modern and looked extremely bad for you. He tried convincing you over and over, assuring that it would be just fine because it was you the one he wanted to get married to, not Grace.

There was nothing he could say would convince you otherwise.

But what really hit him was that one time when you on the edge of crying asked him to leave, you actually yelled at him frustrated because it was too damn painful to accept the fact that he didn’t belong to you, you accepted out loud that you were jealous of Grace for giving him something you wouldn’t.

As weeks went by, he got the news that Grace’s husband ended with his own life, he decided to not get involved in that matter but it was hard to stay away at the same time because she was pregnant with his baby. She was deeply affected by the way events turned out, constantly on the edge and his major concern was the wellbeing of his unborn child so he did everything he could to ensure it. One thing led to the other and he ended up getting married with Grace because it was the right thing to do.

So here he was, stuck in a marriage for the wrong reasons, thinking of another woman, dreaming of another woman that was slowly, little by little slipping away from him. It was impossible to focus on the fucking papers in front of him, work had been pilling up because he was always looking for a ridiculous excuse to see you, even from afar.

Polly stormed into her nephew’s office fuming after learning that he had blinders guarding Y/N when she took the train to the south to see a new vendor. Despite what happened, Polly still had a good relationship with her.

“It’s been over a year Thomas, you have to let her go, you got married to Grace, have a son now… Y/N needs to live her life, rebuild and start over.”

“What the fuck do you mean start over?” He squinted his eyes, blowing away the smoke of his cigarette.

“Oh! Please don’t play dumb with me, do you really expect her to remain single forever?”

The realization sinking in, it felt as if he got kicked in the gut. The long gulp of whiskey didn’t help.

“No… no, there can’t be another man in her life.”

“Are you even listening to what you say?! She deserves to be happy!”

“What do you know? Ey?!”

“There’s someone who’s interested in her but he can’t get close because of your bloody guards!” Polly exploded.

Jaw clenched at the thought of another man starting to court you. No, anything but that.

“I’ve to protect her.” Tommy leant on his desk with palms wide open. Head hanging low.

“You lost her and all for your stupid revenge towards the woman you’re married now!”

“I never thought she would get pregnant, trust me that wasn’t my intention.”

“But it’s too late now for that… just let the girl move on.” Turning on her heels she walked towards the door. “And be more discreet, the maids keep gossiping about how you are sleeping in the guest room.”

****

Hearing the bell, you called from the back of the room; “The store is closed now, I just forgot to change the sign” but you cut yourself after finding him at the other side of the counter.

“Y/N… please.”

Take your eyes off of me so I can leave

I'm far too ashamed to do it with you watching me

Defeated, you gave up, manners long forgotten. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not welcomed here anymore?”

Your attitude made him remember the first time he saw you and Tommy had to hide the smirk that was about to appear on his lips.

Please, stay where you are

Don't come any closer

“Just leave, Thomas, for good.” You pointed at the door. “Goodness, sometimes I wish you could keep your fucking promise and burn this fucking place down so I would’ve a reason to go away.” You admitted with anger, pacing the small shop.

Don't try to change my mind

I'm being cruel to be kind

“I could never do that to you.”

“That look doesn’t charm me anymore, your shoes are new, I bet all bloody Birmingham has new shoes so you really don’t have anything else to do here.”

“I want to help you.”

“Don’t.” You stated bluntly. “I don’t want your help or anything for the matter.”

“When I look around and see all I got, I should be pleased by the way things turned out. But I can’t… because I’m not sharing it with you.”

He was sincere and genuine, you knew that.

“Those were your dreams, not mine.” You added one more -an unnecessary- coat of product to clean the shoes, just to distract you from his gaze.

“Polly mentioned you need to move on. But I can’t let you go.” He was selfish without question, but those strong feelings for you didn’t go away even after marrying Grace.

“So I assume you’ll just go and use that razor blade in any potential man I lay my eyes on.”

“That’s not a bad idea, I’ll consider it thanks.” He added with a smile, loving the irritation in your eyes.

“What do you want Thomas?”

“You.”

It was one word but it included everything he really wanted.

“And what do you suggest then? You want me to be your mistress? That’s not going to happen.”

“Y/N…”

Emotions got the best of her, her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t love you in the dark.”

“Do you nee-”

I can't love you in the dark

It feels like we're oceans apart

There is so much space between us

Baby, we're already defeated

Shaking your head you gave him a warning look. “If you don’t leave right now, I’m going to start throwing shoes at your head for real.”

That was an image he would’ve loved to see, and deep down he knew you would do it without a doubt. So he decided to save himself the embarrassment and headed to the door, but before he even got to open the door, he turned to give you one more look.

Everything changed me

“Please just don’t kiss him the same way you kissed me… cause if you do, you’ll remember me.”

Your fist closed around the shoe you had been holding, way to expensive to throw it away, so instead you threw the brush you had been using. Letting out a groan in frustration.

Time didn’t make it any easier to forget him, all the opposite the feelings for him seemed to be stronger than ever, you wouldn’t stand between him and his son. You returned every single present and basket with fruits and flowers he sent over the last months right after reading every note he added to whatever the present was. His words were tattooed in your heart.

You have given me something that I can't live without

You mustn't underestimate that when you are in doubt

If only he didn’t see Grace back then, you’d be enjoying life together.

****

“You wanted to see me Tommy?” Scudboat poked his head from the door.

“Come in, close the door.” As he saw the blinder step in, he took a long swing of his whiskey, the liquid burning. “I need you to ask your wife to go to Y/N’s shoes shop.”

“Again?” Asked in shock Scudboat, he just went last week, but as Tommy gave him a dead stare, he hid his hands in his pockets.

“Yes, again, but ask her to go on Monday after eleven o’clock that’s after Y/N left for the market, and it will take her a while to go back to the shop and you’ll give her mother this money.” Tommy planned. He knew you’d go then to prepare lunch for your father and eat with him, then you’d take over the shoe shop while your mother returned home.

Tommy knew every single step you took, at what time you got the newspaper and each vendor you’d visit. Yet, you were so far away from him.

It was unfair for you, he knew that. He’d never ask you to be his mistress or anything, he just wished to find a fucking way to get you back. It was hard also for him to admit there was a time when he thought that maybe, just maybe over time he’d learn to love Grace like he used to years ago, but deep down he knew he’d never fully forgive her for betraying him. Let alone having a son together would make their marriage work.

But I don't want to carry on like everything is fine

The longer we ignore it, all the more that we will fight

“What happened Johnny?” Tommy cleared his throat getting anxious by the minute.

“Ehh you won’t like I-” Johnny muttered but he cut himself off when Grace stepped into the office.

“Tommy…” she looked over at Johnny several times, like trying to give him a hint to leave them. “It’s getting late.”

He found it extremely annoying to get interrupted, leaning back in his chair he flicked his cigarette. “I know.”

“Are you coming to say goodnight to Charlie?” She tried batting her eyelashes at him, the sweetest smile on her lips.

“Later, I’m working.”

“Bu-”One annoyed look and a loud sigh and Grace brought a hand to the end of her hair to disguise her disappointment. “Alright.”

Rolling his shoulders, Tommy looked at Johnny again. “So?”

“Tom I don’t like this, why can’t you just leave the poor girl alone? You’ve a family now, a boy.”

But Tommy kept shaking his head. “I’m paying you to watch her and report her moves to me, not asking if you like it or not.”

Polly knew him, his uncle Charlie was able to read him like the palm of his hand, but Johnny couldn’t understand the motives to keep tracking Y/N down.

“You broke up a year ago, got married… there’s no reason to-”

“Johnny, I’m not going to ask you again.” He dragged the words, if it wasn’t for the desk between them, he would’ve Johnny Dogs by the collar of his shirt now.

“Y/N is dating someone.” Johnny murmured, keeping his head down.

A heavy silence filled the Arrow House office.

Please, don't fall apart

I can't face your breaking heart

Tommy got up from his chair and walked quietly towards the window finding darkness only.

“Who is he?” He asked with more control than he expected.

Johnny made a face. “Don’t do this to yourself Tommy, let her move on.”

The man with icy eyes gave him a side look, it was enough to make him talk.

“He’s a Doctor, respectable, good background, treats her right, sends flowers every four or five days, walks with her to the park on Wednesdays and Fridays, on Saturday he goes in for dinner but leaves right after that. On Sundays she brings him food to the hospital and...”

“Apple pie?” Tommy completed while Johnny nodded.

Tommy knew the fucking recipe from start to finish, he could almost smell it and his mouth watered by the simple memory of how it tasted.

Did she give the doctor a small piece with her fork like she used to do with him?

Did she kiss the corner of his mouth after having a bite to remove the remains of sugar?

“That’s all Johnny, thank you.” He swallowed hard, memories making his chest ache.

Johnny wondered if he should also tell Tommy another thing he found out while following them.

Stopping right in front of the heavy door, Johnny twisted the peaky cap between his hands.

“He bought a ring two days ago Tommy.”

“Johnny,” His emotionless voice stopped him, “don’t follow her, you can go back to the gypsy camp.”

Once alone, Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, defeated he took the glass of whiskey upstairs.

Looking at his son sleeping in his crib he couldn’t help but wonder why he made the mistake of fucking Grace that one time, he swore he could contain himself and he’d only use her to drive Campbell mad. But no, he was weak and the only time they were together she got pregnant. This wasn’t supposed to be how he envisioned his life, he wanted to date you, then propose to you, get married and start a family… you had been there for him to pick up the broken pieces from the ground that Grace left. Somehow you managed to make him softer, showed him he could trust and love again.

It wasn’t a surprise when you took a step back, didn’t accept his apologies, didn’t want to hear his explanations, packing your belongings from his office the very same night of the races, and closed the doors to your heart.

He begged, was willing to get on his knees to ask for forgiveness but you wouldn’t listen. His first mistake was to sleep with Grace that night, the second, marry her because she was with a child.

Was he being selfish? How could he let you go when you got so deep inside his heart?

You were slipping away from him, little by little, if you officially started a relationship with someone else, that man won’t waste time after realizing how fucking awesome you were, and if that happened, there was nothing left he could do to get you back.

I can't love you in the dark

It feels like we're oceans apart

There is so much space between us

“Why don’t you come to bed, Tommy?” Grace circled his desk and slipped her arms around his neck from behind. “It’s late.”

“In a minute.” He replied pretending to look at the papers scattered over the oak desk.

“I think you sho-”

“I said in a fucking minute!” He lost it.

Grace made a little jump when he raised his voice. “I heard what you said, I’m just trying to be a good wife.”

“Don’t try, Grace… just don’t try.” He added sharply.

“I’m doing everything I’m supposed to be doing Tommy, I take care of our house, look over Charlie, I make sure you’ve everything you need and yet I’m always alone here and when my husband is finally home by the end of the day I want him to take care of me.”

Tommy saw Grace toying with her wedding band.

“I’ve a load shit to do, alright?”

“Is that true or are you sleeping with some whore around?”

Her accusation made him snap his head at her. “What did you just said?”

“You haven’t even touch me in weeks…”

He wanted to sarcastically laugh at her question. You wouldn’t let him set a foot in your shop, let alone sleep in your bed.

“The way I see it, if you’re not with me that means you’re fucking someone else. Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

He didn’t have the balls to say that the last time they slept together, he fantasized it was you instead of her, your name almost slipped out of his lips. But it would’ve drive Grace mad.

“I’m trying to go legal, Grace. That’s all… just go to sleep.”

“Tomm-” She started again but he cut her off.

“Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

Before she left, Tommy could swear he heard a sob but he was busy emptying the whiskey in his glass as he stared into the fire absently. Throwing his head back atop of the couch he wondered if you were by yourself that night.

The following day Grace insisted on joining him to visit his beloved horse, who was being trained at another facility. She started telling Charlie he’d see horses and the kid got too excited to advice her against the idea.

“… as I walked into the jewelry, I saw these lovely earrings that match perfectly…” Grace chatted non stop as they were on their way to the stables. He was looking forward a quiet day, but Grace had other ideas.

He just wished she could sleep just like Charlie was doing in her arms.

“Are you listening?”

Tommy dragged his eyes from the road to look at Grace for an instant, snapping out of his own thoughts.

“Yeah.”

“So what do you think?”

Shuddering, he took a long puff from his cigarette, feeling the smoke burn in his throat.

“I knew it, Tommy… you’re not paying attention.”

“Can you please stop this?!”

“Don’t raise your voice, you’ll wake up Charlie.” She tried but it was too late, the kid was already fussing. “See what you did?”

“You started this.” He pointed angrily.

“Shh, shh Charlie don’t cry.” Grace tried to get his boy settled, luckily he found a couple of horses out there.

“Look over there Charlie.” Tommy pointed. “There’s a horse.”

“Joshiee.” Charlie repeated, clapping.

Stopping the car, Tommy took Charlie in his arms, leaving Grace behind him. The gentleman in him wouldn’t be proud. But each passing day it was harder to pretend that he cared.

Placing his son on the ground, Tommy offered his hand to guide him.

“Come ‘ere.” Pointing at the fishes in the water trough, Tommy looked at the kid smiling with his chubby hand extended. “Goldfish keep the water clean.” He explained as if Charlie could understand. Grace joined them minutes later.

“I’ve been thinking… we should go away, for a family holiday.” Grace proposed brushing away a lock from her face.

Tommy shook his head instantly.

“Can’t do that, I’ve lots of work to do.”

“For a few days.” She tried again.

“No, you can go with Charlie though.”

Grace unamused expression didn’t have any effect on him. He was used by now.

*****

Tommy felt a rush of adrenaline through his body as he pushed past the people gathered on the street. The flames consuming the small shop, people trying to use buckets to attempt to extinguish the fire.

“Y/N!” Was all he could think of as he was desperately looking around for you.

We're not the only ones, I don't regret a thing

Every word I've said, you know I'll always mean

Everything was chaos.

Someone shoved him from behind, but since he let his guard down, he never noticed. An angry voice called for him and he recognized it right away.

“You must be happy now, finally kept your promise of burning my place down… MY MOTHER WAS INSIDE! You bastard! Get outta here!” Your fist landed on his chest as he was trying to process everything.

Tommy felt a rush of relief wash over him as he saw you were alive, but then he got in defensive mode.

“You destroyed years of hard work! My grand parents opened this store, my father started here cleaning shoes until he got a promotion and met my mother.” You spat with tears in your eyes, not caring about the venom and anger in your voice, or the people staring. “I HATE YOU THOMAS SHELBY, and I hope you pay for this.”

“I didn’t do this.” He let out a heavy sigh, shocked by your accusation.

His heart was shattered to know you thought he could do something like this. His stomach turned into a tight knot as he found the disappointment in your eyes.

“As if I didn’t know you, leave for good and don’t you ever come back.” You spat with anger oozing from every pore.

It is the world to me that you are in my life

But I want to live and not just survive

Walking backwards, he stumbled with someone who was trying to help. On his way to his vehicle he saw your mother sitting next to another woman on bench, at least she wasn’t injured.

“Find whoever did this.” Tommy instructed one of the blinders before leaving the place, he still couldn’t believe this was happening, but he had an engagement to attend and besides there was nothing he could do if you didn’t want him there.

Rushing into Arrow House he needed to hurry up to be on time, luckily Frances had his outfit prepared. The phone had been ringing in his office, but he really needed to get out of the house as soon as possible, after adjusting the last touches to his tuxedo, he moved to walk around the car, finding Grace already waiting for him. She welcomed him with a smile and a kiss that took him by surprise, there was something in her eyes different, it seemed like she didn’t had been bothering him about another woman in his life.

“Everything will get better for us after tonight Tommy, I just know.” She checked her reflection.

He doubted it was a possibility, but decided to have a peaceful night for once, specially at an event like this. He needed to raise funds.

“Where have you been? You were almost late.” She asked casually disturbing the peace he was looking for.

“Had some trouble at the shop. Finn messed up.” He lied.

“Hmm that’s weird, I looked for you there and couldn’t find you.”

“Went to the Garrison afterwards, that’s the reason I was late.” The lies slipped from his lips so easily.

She wanted to add something else, but Polly intercepted him by the door. “Scudboat has been looking for you, he looked deadly worried but wouldn’t tell me what’s going on.”

“Polly not now, please.” Turning around his head, he found the city Council leader with Grace.

And as they engaged in conversation, Tommy’s gaze was fixed by the entrance, as Father John Hughes and that insufferable MP entered. He couldn’t even stand to watch them, they weren’t welcome so he better hurry up to finish whatever the hell they’re wanted.

“Brother you need to know something.” Arthur whispered into his ear pushing him towards the staircase for some privacy.

With a heavy sigh, Tommy shook his head. “Not now Arthur, I can’t deal with anything else right now.” He spotted his wife talking to that mad Duchess.

“It was Grace.” Arthur admitted.

Confused, Tommy gave him a long look.

“Grace started the fire at the shoes shop, she saw a woman inside and thought it was Y/N. Someone recognized her.”

His head was spinning, anger building up and reaching unknown limits. Everything was so confusing, the bile rising up in his throat. Y/N could’ve been dead by now.

Storming like a bull he pushed past the people to find his wife.

“Come with me.” He grabbed Grace by the arm roughly making her gasp.

“Tommy I was talking to-”

“Why are you so worked up Mr. Shelby?” Tatiana smirked. His head was pounding. “I was telling your wife about the sapphire she’s wearing.”

“Tatiana said it’s Russian.” Grace interjected eager to participate.

And somehow the conversation escalated quickly, Tatiana kept pushing Grace’s buttons but at the moment he needed to keep the Duchess at bay. He’d deal with his wife’s jealousy later.

Scanning the room, he found Ada, fucking finally! Now he needed to deal with a spoiled princess he thought unamused. As his sister charmed Grace about a fucking donation, he tried to convince Tatiana it was a bad idea to go to the factory, but she was stubborn and had certain urgency to fuck him. There was nothing more discouraging than a woman selling herself off.

He was done. Fucking done of everything; the economic league, the duchess, his wife’s lies. This woman was absolutely mad

But time stopped as the duchess told him the sapphire had been cursed by a Gypsy. His ears were ringing, a shiver ran down his spine. Tommy had lost his faith back in France, but if there was one thing he believe in was spirits and Gypsy curses.

Speechless, he reached his wife in a few long strides.

“We need to talk.” Waving his hands anxiously he pointed at Grace’s necklace. “Take it off.”

“No, why?” Grace hissed visibly pissed off. “Tommy you gave it to me. Why are you doing this? You want to give it to someone else?”

“Here we fucking go.” He scoffed bothered. “I don’t fucking care, you want me to say this in front of them? Fine, I’ll tell you what I just learned.”

Anger was boiling inside of him, he simply didn’t care anymore.

He couldn’t explain the real reasons behind his request. “You told me you stopped by the office earlier huh?” He glanced someone passing towards the grand salon for diner. “But you forgot to mention that afterwards you stopped by at a shoes shop, the last place where a woman like you would be, Grace.” Looking up at the ceiling he blew the air he had been holding. “You started a fire at that shoes shop and don’t even try to lie, because people saw you.”

Grace’s features contorted. “Yes, I did it… because you’re distant with me, I know you wanted to marry that shoe saleswoman.”

Tommy saw red. “Yeah, I was going to marry her and when she heard you were pregnant she took a step back, walked away from me. That’s the biggest and selfless act of love.”

That's why I can't love you in the dark

“And where would you be today if it wasn’t for me?” She asked with her jaw clenched.

“Right here with her giving a beautiful speech about kindness.”

“I’m glad she’s dead by now.” She attempted to walk away, but Tommy took her by the shoulders.

“You should be thankful sh-”

“I don’t care about anything related to her.” Grace replied.

“Well, you should.”

“And why would I care about her?”

“BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT HER!” He lost control, Polly turned her head around at the shouting. “MORNING, NOON, AND NIGHT… I CARE ABOUT HER.”

Grace walked backwards, looking down.

“You’re lucky she wasn’t at the shop, she’s alive and I’m going to find her after the gala is over.” Tommy admitted triumphantly.

A man stormed in his direction out of the blue.

“For Angel!” He shouted right before firing his weapon.

The gunshot echoed in every corner of the room.

In the middle of the chaos, Tommy noticed Grace’s body leaned against him harshly, there was blood everywhere and people screaming. Tommy fell to the floor by the impact and Grace’s weightless body.

He called for help, and ambulance, anyone but Grace was already gone…

Someone took her lifeless body away from him and he wasn’t able to react, he remained frozen on spot in a corner. Replaying the images over and over.

Y/N swallowed hard after debating the entire afternoon whether if you were doing the right thing or not, yet here you stood if front of the venue where the Shelby family was leading a gala to raise funds to help people in need. One of the many dreams Tommy had shared with you.

Once the fire was controlled and people started to leave, one of the blinders who helped your mother to come out of it unharmed to let you know it had been Tommy’s wife the one who caused it, not him.

And guilt had been eating you alive ever since.

You needed to apologize for all the terrible things you said to him. You didn’t hate him, said it out of anger.

“Y/N! Oh, there’s been a tragedy… Grace is dead.”

****

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I’m so happy the first part was so well accepted, hoping this following part will like you too… did you see that coming? If you have a few minutes, I’d LOVE to hear what you think!

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @mrkdvidal1989 @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyya (can’t tag) @holacia3 @ironpen @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @spookyboogyuniverse @amberpanda99 @immyowndefender @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @trixie23 @shelundeadxxxx

#that’s what Cill said #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fan fiction #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy characters #cillian murphy imagine

[idksmtms]

Silence - Emmett (AQPII) x Younger!reader

Summary: You had seen Emmett before everything went to hell, but you didn't actually know him. Now though? Now he was all you had. He was everything. 

Word count: 3.9k 

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap (both characters are still 18+), p in v s*x, fingering, daddy kink, discussions of death, discussions of trauma, attempting to exchange sex for services (doesn’t actually happen tho), mental health struggles, (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the A Quiet Place or A Quiet Place Part 2 characters. I do not claim to own any of these characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

You hadn’t known it was him when you had followed the man in the abandoned factory down the chute. You hadn’t known it was him when you had landed with a thud right behind him and he had whirled on you as the screeches from the monster above echoed metallically over you. You still hadn’t known it was him when he had pulled you away from the entrance and into the old pipe and shut the door behind you and sat just in front, heaving and staring out of the little window inlaid in the door. But then, with shaking hands he had pulled down the scarf over his face and stared at you like you were somehow the craziest part of this new world, and simply uttered the words “what the fuck.” You had jumped forward then, slamming your palms to his mouth and widening your eyes to try and communicate how stupid he was being, but he just shoved you off and waited until you had sorted yourself into a seated position once more to speak. “They can’t hear us down here, especially if you whisper.” You stared at him, listened to the rough gravel of his voice, and it finally clicked in your mind who this was. 

You remembered Emmett from before. He had run the garage in your town and your dad always took your car there to get it fixed. You had never talked to him much, just a hi or hello there if you went to the garage with your dad or if you bumped into him somewhere in town, and it was alright considering you had just graduated high school when the creatures landed. Sure, he was the most handsome man you had ever seen, but it’s not like you thought about that much (you used to think about it all the time). You guys didn’t have much business with each other, he was a married man, so what did it matter? He had been your favourite naive high school crush. But that’s all it was. Then the creatures landed and any feeling other than survive, survive, survive, hadn’t entered your head since. 

“Mr. Emmett?” You finally whispered, hands pressed close to your mouth out of fear. You didn’t remember the last time you had spoken. What had been the last thing you said?

 He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Y/n?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, clasping your hands together and rocking back and forth slightly. The air was getting stuffier and you could feel your lungs getting tighter. Then something started beeping and he reached over and opened the door. He jumped out and began pacing as you clambered out of the pipe like a human spider. 

You finally got a chance to look around the space you had fallen into, and it was… quaint. There was no better word really, because it wasn’t nice but it was much better than some places you had been. A pile of cushions and sheets and maybe a duvet (you couldn’t tell) made up a sleeping area in the corner. There were a pair of folding chairs across a makeshift coffee table with an oil lamp on it on the other side of the space and pieces of paper were tacked up on the wall above them. They were drawings, you quickly realised, of three different people over and over again. Was it his wife and kids? You could recognise Nora, but you had never paid particular attention to his kids, so is that what they looked like? 

You turned to Emmett and it seemed he had come to a decision. He began shaking his head and you knew exactly what he was going to say. Dread filled your stomach, filled every bone and every skin cell. You had barely survived on your own on the journey to finding this place. The group you had been with before… they were either picked away or went crazy but they had also been the reason you survived this long. You were, for lack of a better term, useless at survival. Other people had hunted for you, other people had killed for you, all you could do was watch over things, and run. 

“Please,” you began to whisper in a hurry, “please don’t make me go. Please, Mr. Emmett,” you rushed over to him, clasping his forearms and forcing him to look at you. His eyes were haunted, and you were sure he had seen terrible things, things that would stay with him till he eventually succumbed to whatever death awaited him in this new wasteland, but so had you. “Mr. Emmett, I can’t survive out there on my own,” your voice was clogged with tears now, your eyes shiny and dripping onto your cheeks, “if I don’t die as soon as I step out of here, then it’ll be within a few days, at most a week. I can’t do anything on my own Mr. Emmett, I’m fucking useless!” You sobbed, a sound so loud he slapped a hand over your mouth and hushed you aggressively, but you continued crying, leaning into his hand as you blubbered. 

This was the first time you had cried since that first day. There had been no time to cry later, always on the run, always worrying about something, and now it was finally hitting you. Your world was truly ending, and these last-minute grabs to try and save it weren’t going to work. 

“Sh, sh, alright,” he whispered, “alright, just calm down, just calm down and be quiet.” 

You pressed your lips together and pulled away, wiping at your eyes and trying to quell the need to hiccup out more sobs. Emmett sighed and pressed his hand to his forehead, eyes closed as he shook his head and muttered to himself. 

“Please, Mr. Emmett,” you whispered again, looking up at him with those big eyes of yours that made his resolve melt. “I’ll do anything for you, anything,” you dropped your backpack to the floor and began pulling up the hem of your tank top. You had never had the luxury of a jacket, and there were many cold nights barely survived in this tank top, but after a while you had learnt to be thankful for every little thing you had. 

You looked him in the eyes as your shirt began to rise, no shame, just desperation. Just as the hem reached the undersides of your breasts, he reached out and grabbed your hand so tight your knuckles began to hurt. 

“Stop,” he bit out, staring at the floor as he forced your hand back down your stomach. Once he was sure you were covered up again, he looked at you again and sighed like the weight of the world had come crashing back down on his shoulders all over again. “You can stay, but you at least have to learn how to use a gun, in case I’m not here.” 

“Yes, yes anything,” you breathed out, and launched yourself onto him, hugging him around the neck and pressing your cheeks together. Oh how long it had been since you had hugged someone. He was so warm and you could feel his firm frame under his clothes. Clearly it had been just as long for him since he hadn’t even bothered to reciprocate, hands hanging at his sides and body frozen. Slowly you released him, stepping back and staring at the ground as he cleared his throat and turned away to do… something. Whatever a person needs to do nowadays. 

He had sacrificed some of his sheets and pillows for you to make your bed, but you didn’t stray too far from his own setup, wanting to know that there was someone with you when you were going to sleep. You had quickly fallen into a routine within the next few days of living together. You would wake up when you heard the rustling of his sheets, spending some time washing up and nibbling on just enough food to quiet the growls in your stomachs. Then he would sit in one of the folding chairs and draw, the soft scratching of his pencil against paper filling the space. You occupied the other chair and began to work your way through the small pile of books he had. Sometimes both of you would look up simultaneously if you heard a click or a creak echo down the chute, but when it was silent once again you would return to your own activities without saying a word. 

On the third day, he decided to venture out to gather more food and water. You had watched him ready himself for the trip, wrapping the scarf around his face, gathering up his shotgun, then climbing the ladder without a look back. You had tried to read while he was away, but your mind couldn’t focus. At every sound, or even the illusion of sound, your head snapped to the chute to see if he was back. Eventually you abandoned your seat and began to pace, staring at his drawings and sifting through the pages of his journal. There were a lot more drawings in there, and you wondered how he had chosen the ones to put up. Even the half-finished ones were beautiful, and you felt a sudden onset of tears as you turned page after page of their faces. You were careful not to let a tear fall on any of the papers, and gently set it back down, caressing the leather cover for a moment before going to his pile of sheets and settling down for a nap on top of them. 

You woke up when he returned. You hadn’t realised how much noise actually happened just by two people existing, but the sound of his feet on the ladder rungs, his panting breaths, even the rustle of his clothes suddenly seemed so loud after the hours of quiet solitude. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, watching as he set out the supplies before walking over to you and handing you something. He didn’t comment that you were on his bed, and you didn’t make any move to get up, and he just went back to his chair journal. You stared at the pile in your hands, five new books in various states of decay, but all readable. They must have been a completely unnecessary weight for him, only a hindrance and a danger, but he had brought them. For you. You stared at the pile in your hands, a collection of paperbacks you had never heard of, and then you looked at him. He was busy with the journal, head bent low over the paper, and something bloomed in your chest, filling you up with all this… happiness? Joy? Love? You weren’t sure what those felt like anymore but it must be close. 

Two weeks after you had arrived in his little sanctuary, winter truly began to set in. It had started to become colder at night, and you were lucky enough to be sheltered away from any winds, but the chill that settled in the air at night seeped into your bones. For the first week you could survive by bundling up as tight as possible in all your blankets and a jacket that Emmett had scavenged for you. But with every night that passed, even that wasn’t enough to keep the cold out, and most of your nights were spent awake and shivering, hoping you wouldn’t die of hypothermia. 

At last, on one particular night, you truly couldn’t handle the cold anymore, and you decided enough was enough. Heaters didn’t exist anymore, but body warmth was a natural heater, and you had a perfectly good body nearby. You turned over under your blankets and slowly began shifting your way over to his pile. You could see his body moving under his blankets with every breath, and you were sure he was still awake, because why wouldn’t he be? Who could sleep in this cold, even Emmett? You managed to make your way to his bedding and slipped under his blankets. Emmett turned over, staring at you in the dark, but you just continued burrowing yourself closer to him until your head was pressed under his chin and your arms and legs were wrapped around him. Once you had felt the warmth emanating from him, there was no turning back. He only had on a t-shirt under the blankets and he shivered whenever your skin made contact with his. You were freezing cold yet he was hotter than the sun. The skin on his arms was soft, and you lightly ran your hands up and down it before wrapping him up in your arms once more. 

At first, Emmett didn’t move. Again, he was frozen, just like when you had hugged him. But slowly, as the quiet settled in again and both of your breaths evened out once more, he moved his arms to wrap around you in return, pressing you close to his chest and splaying his hands over your back. Every breath he took ruffled your hair and your every breath fanned his neck. Both of you were quiet, soaking in each other’s touch. It had been aeons since either of you had felt the sustained touch of another person, had just been held by another person. It was an indescribable comfort that you now deemed essential to your survival. 

From then on, every night passed in this fashion. You would wriggle your way into his cocoon of blankets and he would wrap you up tight in his arms, pressing his lips to the top of your head without a thought. It made life seem better somehow. Waking up every morning in his arms, knowing that that’s how the day was going to end made everything more… bearable. 

Three weeks later Emmett ventured out on another supply trip. You had silently been having a particularly difficult day. Your mind couldn’t focus on anything, neither your book nor the pencil drawings you had picked up since being around Emmett. Your mind felt hyperactive but so overly tired at the same time and you wanted to venture out for a walk but you knew Emmett would have a fit if you left the space without him. Instead, you settled down on his bed and waited for him to come back once more. When he did return, again carrying a small pile of books, you didn’t bother getting up to greet him like you usually did. You stayed curled up on the sheets and stared at the wall, overcome with a wave of despondency that made you feel paralysed. Emmett watched you as you lay there, and after putting away all the supplies, came to lay down beside you. He hesitated before touching you, unsure how to handle this mood, but eventually decided to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you back until you were flush to his body. 

He had grown overly fond of you in the time since you had invaded his life. You had become life itself to him. At first he had dreaded the thought of caring for someone else. After the way it had ended with his children and Nora, he didn’t want to be responsible for anyone but himself. He would have no regret of his own death. But then you started complimenting his drawings and trying to make the little hovel prettier wherever you could. You told him stories of your life before while you guys ate or you simply existed beside him, a presence always there to reassure him. And it made his heart feel all warm and reminded him what was so good about being alive in the first place. 

He had thought about what people would have said about you two if the apocalypse hadn’t happened. He had thought every single judgemental thought about how young you were and how old he clearly was next to you. But then he remembered that this wouldn’t have happened without an apocalypse anyway. The world was gone, and with it norms and propriety. While he still had his values, he also recognised you were an adult now, and in this world it didn’t matter if he was older. All that really mattered was if you felt the same way about him. 

Emmett pressed his lips to the back of your head and waited, listening to your breaths shudder slightly as you pressed back against him, hands coming up to clasp his. You ran your thumb over his knuckles a few times before turning over to face him. You clasped his face in your hands and made sure he met your eyes. He could see that they were shiny but no tears had fallen yet. 

“Don’t leave me alone anymore,” you whispered, “I can’t stay here waiting for you to come back wondering if you even will. I feel sick to my stomach every time you walk out because you are all I have left. If you die out there, then I have no reason to keep living. You carry my heart with you everywhere you go, right here,” you gently patted his chest, “so I can’t have you going out there without me anymore. I can’t. If you die, I die.” Emmett stared into your eyes. You were so serious, not a single stutter in your words, and all he could do was whisper ‘ok’ in return. You nodded, still grasping his face in your hands, before moving forward and kissing him gently. 

Emmett pushed himself even closer to your face, his nose pressing into the crevice between your nose and cheek, and slipped his tongue into your mouth. His hand slid under your shirt, tickling the warm skin as he ran it up until he was grasping your breast in his hand. He couldn’t get enough of you already. Your mouth was so soft and each kiss became more ravenous as both of you pressed your open mouths together. He gripped your breast and squeezed revelling in the breathy sounds you let into his mouth, rubbing your nipple and pinching it, flicking the little nub until you were moving your hips without realising. 

Emmett moved over you until he was settled into the space between your legs and began grinding into you, settling his weight onto your body. You pulled away from his mouth and hurriedly lifted off your shirt. You began tugging at his but he just pushed your hands away and threw it off himself. Everything had escalated so quickly that neither of you had patience for anything but getting him inside of you as quickly as possible. The air around you had become boiling hot and the space between you was stifling.

He was quick to unbutton your pants and push them down until one leg had been freed. Neither of you cared about the other leg. His own were pushed down just until he was freed and he let out a groan of relief right into your ear. When you began trying to push him down and into you, he pressed down on your hips and hushed the whines that burst out of you. 

“I have to prep you, come on baby,” he kissed your cheek, your chin, your neck, then reached down to the apex of your thighs. You were wet all over and so hot he could feel the heat before he even touched. He panted into your neck as he began gliding his fingers along your pussylips, pressing between them and twisting his index and middle fingers so they were covered in your slick. “Fuck, you’re so wet baby,” he muttered into your neck, pressing his fingers to your clit. “My baby’s dripping all over and it’s all for me, huh?” He seemed to be talking to himself as it didn’t matter if you answered or not. You were too lost in the sensations of his rough fingertips running back and forth over your swollen clit, pressing and rubbing and pinching until your legs were trying to close around his hand and your hips were wriggling. 

“Daddy, please,” you whispered, and he groaned so loud you rushed to slap your hand over his mouth. God it had been so long since a woman had called him that. If he wasn’t careful he would cum from humping your leg. Emmett pushed a finger into you and instantly started up a rhythm. He felt your squishy insides and the texture of your walls and curled his fingers every time he pushed them into you. Your legs had fully tightened around his hand that he couldn’t see it anymore but it didn’t matter, as long as he could move it and watch the way you scrunched up your face, panting into the air, he could die a happy man. 

It took you all of two minutes to reach your peak like that, clit bullied and filled with his fingers. Once you had begun to come down, he was quick to pull his hand away from you and focus on prying your thighs apart again. The sticky sound of your thighs opening up was music to his ears and he lined himself up to your entrance. You were still a little sensitive from your first orgasm and the feeling of him spearing through you made you convulse. You dug your nails into his shoulders and cried out but he had already covered your mouth with his hand. He pressed in until your hips met and his pelvis squished your clit through your folds. He took a moment to breathe heavily against your neck, adjusted himself slightly, and keeping his hand over your mouth, began to thrust into you. You bit into his palm but he only grunted and kept on, slamming into you over and over. You were jelly, you were a hot melted pool of pleasure, ready to be used for whatever he desired. Your legs felt like they were being zapped with electricity and your arms were so tight that they might fall off if you let go of Emmett. 

The pleasure began to climb, and you could feel it building in your stomach. The tingles sped up, and the pressure increased until you were clenching down on him over and over again. His pace faltered at the feeling but he was quick to get back at it. He reached down to press harshly at your clit but it was too harsh at first and you jolted away from him with a yelp. He shushed you and gently began rubbing it in circles and you came all over him. The tightening from your orgasm triggered his own and he pushed inside you fully and began twitching, grunting like a wild beast into your shoulder. He had bit down onto the flesh and you could still feel his teeth there even when he pulled away to begin kissing you. 

Both of you lay there for a while, just feeling everything in your bodies. Once the sweat had cooled on your skin, you turned over and whispered into Emmet’s ear, “I love you.” 

And when Evelyn Abbott and her family came falling into Emmett’s little sanctuary, what they weren’t expecting to encounter was a pregnant young lady with him.

#a quiet place ii #a quiet place #emmett x reader #emmett a quiet place #cillian murphy #a quiet place 2 #a quiet place part ii #cillian murphy smut #cillian fic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy characters #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x y/n #cillianmurphy

[deceitfuldevout]

Happy Purge

Purge AU: Soft!Dark!Mike Kiernan x Student!Reader

Word Count: +2,068

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Stalking, Kidnapping, Power Imbalance, Use of blood as lube, Mild gore, Purge day.

Author's Note(s): I was thinking about this and coincidentally it's kinktober haha!

It's been almost a decade since the first purge. A lot has changed since then. You remember a time when people didn’t have to worry about looking over their shoulder. Even the morning after was gruesome scene. There was an official purge cleanup crew for that reason alone. You couldn’t help but stare at the clock on the wall.

If you could squeeze in just one last assignment, you'll be free for the weekend. Suddenly, you hear your name being called. It breaks you out of your train of thought, turning to your instructor and apologizing, "Yes Professor! S-sorry..." now embarrassed that you've been caught by him. Professor Mike Kiernan

According to his students, Mike was more than an exceptional teacher. Every last one of them adores him. If not, well then he'd have to look out for tonight. You on the other hand, have always felt there was something off about him. As if he were harboring a dark secret. Maybe it was the building nerves. After all, tonight would be the start of the annual Purge Day.

Mike ends class an hour early, giving his students enough time to reach home safely. You on the other hand, take the opportunity to finish up remaining school work. Mr. Kiernan was also in charge of study hall. He notices you're the last student left and approaches your desk, "Forgetting something?"

You look up at him with your pen still in mouth, taking it out to speak. That's when the realization hits. "Oh sh—shoot!" Quickly correcting the slip up. You had completely forgotten. In about thirty minutes the sirens were going to ring, after that the Purge would commence. You lived a little more than half an hour away. How on earth would you make it to home on time?!

Mike notices your fidgeting, poor thing. You were so caught up in school work that you'd completely forgotten. Always so responsible, one of his best students. So kind and generous. You were always a good student, helping anyone that needed it. Was it bad that he wanted to keep it all for himself?

"Do you need a ride home?" he offers, "It's not safe out there, especially not for a young lady like yourself," kind, genuine words. Your phone is almost dead, and you had no point of contact. So you take his offer, "Thank you professor Kiernan, Seriously," You grateful to have someone like him. He walks you to his car parked on the edge of the lot. He takes his time walking to it. You on the other hand, were in a hurry.

You felt almost embarrassed by the way you held the door handle eagerly waiting for him. To unlock it. He chuckles, clicking the button of his keys to open it. You hurry inside, not wasting a second hopping onto the seat. As he began to drive off you could hear the first warning bell. There would only be two more before the final sirens. Your eyes are glued to the red sirens attached to each public building, the blaring makes you feel sick.

When the car makes a sudden turn off the main road, you begin to grow suspicious, "Professor?"

"Yes?"

"This isn't the way to my house..."

"I know, but it's too late for that now," he answers, "The third alarm is about to go off, we won't make it in time," his eyes are still glued to the road. You gather enough courage to speak up again, "Professor....professor where are we going?"

"I live nearby, you're more than welcome to spend the night," he answers, "The last thing I'd want is for those animals to harm a student of mine," he reassures. Mike lives in the more rural side of town. There's a growing feeling you have that something was wrong about all this. But what other choice do you have? It was better than being out there alone on the streets.

As soon as you arrive to Mike's home, he activates the security system. When he first bought the house, the first thing he did was install a Purge-proof security system. He walks into the kitchen, rummaging for something, "Would you like some tea?" he opens the pantry to fetch some herbs. While it boils he gets some jam and toast for it. As soon as he finishes up, he places both cups on the table.

You notice that Mike hadn't taken a sip from his drink. Your eyes widen with fear, "You haven't touched your cup..." there's a pause. Then he realizes his mistake, "Ah, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you nervous," he switches the drinks, "Here, have mine," he takes a sip from your cup to insure it hadn't been spiked. It calms your nerves knowing that there was nothing to worry about.

Mike had kept his promise that you would be safe here. It's been a while since he's had anyone over. He tries his best hosting skills, a round of charade, following by a board game. It was honestly one of the best purge experiences you've had yet. A great distraction from the events occurring outside. He insists on watching a movie to kill the time, you agree. Why not? Besides, Mike's company wasn't so bad.

It was during the middle of the movie when you needed to use the restroom. He points you to down the hall. On your way back, you notice a door had been left open. It was most likely the master bedroom. When you reach the knob to close it, you accidentally take a glimpse inside.

That's when you notice what was there. No....there's no way...You enter his room to get a closer look. Mike smiles to himself. To think that he'd been so worried about everything, and for what? You seem to be enjoying his company. He was right all along, there was something more to your relationship.

He hears you rushing down the hallway, there's an angry look on your face, "What the fuck are these?!" you toss the photos on the ground. Pictured in each and every last one of them is you. Some of them were taken while on campus, others were downloaded from social media posts. He smiles, "Now I know what you're thinking, but if you just hear me out--"

"Not a fucking chance!" you back away from him. He's confused, why now were you acting out? It was going so well between the two of you! Can't you see how much he cares?

"Don't you see the love and dedication I have for you?! And you know it too!" he nears, "I know you feel the same way..." his voice sounding more desperate, there's a deranged look in his eyes that doesn't meet his smile, "Tell me you weren't thinking the same thing, when you waited for me after class," he held a hand to his chest, expressing his love for you.

He's finally letting you know how he's felt for a very long time. You were at a loss for words, there's no way he actually thought--between the two of you? He's delusional. To think you and your classmates actually trusted him. You're pissed, "Get it through your fucking head! You're my professor! That's all you'll ever be!"

After hearing that Mike's smile fades. He could feel heart shattering into a million pieces. Maybe it was a mistake, bringing you here on your own terms. If he knew this was how you would react, then he would've just stuck to the original plan. He knows he could get away with it too. After all, it was Purge day.

Usually, he'd go against something like this. But what other choice does he have? It quickly turns into a fight or flight situation. You knew he was stronger than you, so there would be no point in fighting him. What other choice did you have other than running? Mike is much faster than you realize. He's quick to grab you before you've had a chance to alert the security system.

Mike drags you across his home. He stops by a door located on the side of the staircase. He almost rips the hinges off when he pulls you inside. You fought with all your might, scratching, pushing, hitting wherever you possibly could. To him, they felt like nothing. He's dealt with worse. In the struggle, you're sent tumbling down the stairs.

Mike uses his body to shield yours from the fall. He cradles your head against his chest. Yet still, you were fighting him, after everything he's done. You scurry towards the other side of the basement. As far away from him as you could possibly be.

Mike sighs with annoyance, "You have no idea what it's like..." he lifts himself off the floor, his hands now balled up into fists. He doesn't know how much longer he can hold himself back, "You have no idea what it's like seeing you every day, and not being able to do a damn thing!" he charges, slamming you against a wall, he leans his head closer to yours.

Still there was that look of admiration in his eyes, "We could've been so happy together," Mike grabs you by the throat, pulling you into a deep, searing kiss. In retaliation you bit his lip. He winces in pain, "Will you just...stop fighting me?!" his anger gets the best of him as he slams you against the wall. You're left stunned after getting the wind knocked out of your lungs.

Mike is quick to catch you. He panics, "Please! I don't want to hurt you!" He yells over and over again, "I love you! I love you! Please! I love you!" there are tears in his eyes, "Just please...let me love you..." he sighs against your neck, placing a kiss on the bare skin, "Look at what you do to me..." he grinds his bulge against your clothed mound.

You could practically feel how big it was, even through the many layers of clothing. It makes your skin crawl, how he's played the role of a caring professor and community member for so long. Could he even see himself right now?! "Look, whatever you want, a house, a baby, I'll give ya," Mike never knew he even wanted those things, not until he met you. Don't you see? You're all he's ever needed.

You fought him like a trapped animal. His feisty little wildcat. You use both fists to land a few good hits on his face, over and over again. Hitting his nose with a 'crunch' sound. But still, it doesn't stop him. Mike can't seem to understand why you were trying to escape. It was useless fighting him. This would be so much better if you just gave in. Because eventually, he's going to get what he wants. He pulls you into another forceful kiss.

For that, you headbutt in right in the face. Mike winches, pulling away from you with a now bloody nose. He throws you to the ground. Then pounces, caging his body on top of your own. He begins to unbuckle his belt, dragging his boxers down to free his cock. He spits a wad of blood in his palm, that'll do for now. He doesn't want to waste anymore time. Purge would be ending in a few hours, and he'll make sure to use every last minute of it.

He knows how the law works in this area. If a couple lived together for over a year, then it would legally bind them together as husband and wife. Mike doesn't mind that idea at all, 'My wife...you're going to be my wife," he sighs. Your stomach churns after hearing that, "No...no please, this isn't what I want!"

"You don't even know what you want" Mike starts lifting up your skirt, he's eager, almost giddy, "But I do," yanking down the waistband of your panties. He forces his member deep inside, groaning from the sensation of your walls pulsing. You scream from the intrusion. It resembles a cat's howl.

Tears begin to form, now blurring your vision. Your claws sink deep into his chest, as he began thrusting in and out of your channel. He doesn't stop, not until he finishes. He has only one goal on his mind, to plant his seed, leave a legacy behind, "Take it, take it..." he mumbles over and over again.

"Professor?" a student asks, causing Mike to break from his trance. His student asks the question again, "How was your purge?" genuinely curious. What did Professor Mike Kiernan, of all people, do to earn those nasty bruises? He's still wearing his sweater from yesterday, now caked in his own blood. The first thing he did the morning after, was drag himself out of bed and straight to lecture. He couldn't help but grin, "Well, ran into some trouble, but, no worries,"

His students and coworkers felt bad. They all said the same thing, how Mike was the last person who deserved something like this. If only they knew. After a long day of lectures, he finally drives home. He passes by the Purge's official memorial road. There are numerous photos of people who had either lost their lives or went missing.

When he sees your photo, he can't help but smirk. He parks his car on the side of the road, approaching the stand. He pockets the picture for keepsake, smiling to himself as he returns to his car. It's been a long time since Mike has looked forward to coming home.

Perhaps Purge wasn't so bad.

#dark!mike kiernan #reader #reader insert #reader x mike kiernan #mike kiernan x reader #dark!mike kiernan x reader #fem!reader #fab!read #afab!reader #my work #my works #cillian murphy character #cillian murphy smut #smut fic #dark fanfic #dark fic #dark!fanfiction #dark!fic #dark smut

[littlefandomfairy]

♡cillian murphy fic rec masterlist♡

♡ fic rec list (1) | thomas shelby | robert fischer | jonathan crane | patricia 'kitten' braden

♡ fic rec list (2) | neil lewis | robert capa | lenny miller | emmett | henry wilson

♡ fic rec list (3) | (coming soon...)

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy character #thomas shelby #robert fischer #jonathan crane #kitten braden #patrick kitten braden #neil lewis #tommy shelby #robert capa #lenny miller #emmett a quiet place #henry wilson #fic recs #fic recommendations

[dbnightingale24]

Getting Lost In The Silence With You

An Emmett Lovestory

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Surprise, and Happy Halloween!!

I just wanted to make something fluffy and loving, since I'm always giving you guys angst and despair 🙃 anywho, I hope you all enjoy this little story, I hope you're enjoying one of the best days ever, and please be safe! As always, thank you to @fuckingbyefor the amazing moldboard, and for just existing. Alright, enough of my rambling, enjoy!

Like always, Tumblr is on it's bullshit, so I'm only gonna post part of it here, and leave the link to my AO3 if you wanna read all of it.

Word Count: 15,618

Warnings: SMUT (18+ Minors DNI), Swearing, Drinking, Heartbreak, Dealing with Loss, FLUFF, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Self Doubt, A Bit of Self Loathing, uhh...I think that's it?

Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: You Are The One I Waited For, I Knew It All Along

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I do not give permission/consent for my works/stories to be posted elsewhere.

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You keep your giggles quiet as you feel something tickling your toes.

Emmett.

‘Happy birthday,’ he smiles down at you after your eyes finally open.

This has been routine for the past three years now, and you can’t help but smile at the fact that you and Emmett have had each other to lean on. You wonder how something so beautiful came from such an ugly turn of events.

When Emmett found you, you were both wary of one another. He hadn’t meant to find you, and you hadn’t meant to find him. He stumbled across where you’d been hiding, searching for materials to stock up on. The second he found you hiding, you both pulled your guns on one another. While you were more than sure that he could see the fear in your eyes, you saw the emptiness and despair in his. Yet the longer he looked at you and the more you shook, the softer his features became.

He held a finger against his lips, a sign for you to be quiet, and slowly led you out of the closet. You warily grabbed the few of the things you had and followed him. You’re not sure why you followed him to this day.

“What were you doing there?” he asked softly, once you two had reached where he was hiding out, putting away the few supplies he was able to scrounge up on his trip.

“The same thing everyone else who’s alive is trying to do. Hiding.”

“That’s a terrible hiding spot.”

“It worked out just fine for me for the last two months.”

“Are you alone?”

Silence.

He turned around to see you standing there, eyes watering as you tried to look anywhere but at him.

You’d been alone for a year at the time. There hadn’t been anyone you’d confided in, and you didn’t find yourself wanting to know anyone. The last person in life died in your arms and you’d decided to keep to yourself from then on out. It just felt like the best idea; the safest in this world surrounded by danger.

“I don’t mean to be harsh, you just...that spot was dangerous. Even more so if you’re alone. Have a seat. Have you eaten today?”

“Don’t eat much,” you mumbled, taking a seat at his table, looking around the empty space. “I don’t hunt unless I have to.”

“I’ll get you something, just sit tight,” he told you softly. 

You looked around and saw the different drawings, a few pictures, and wondered how long it’d been since he lost everyone.

“Th-thank you,” you told him softly, pulling out a bottle of wine and setting it on the table.

Seemed like a pretty decent peace offering. 

“Where the hell did you get that?” he half smiled, coming over and picking up the bottle in admiration. 

“Some of it’s self made, others are from...before.”

“How old are you?”

“What’s the date?”

“October 31st.”

You smiled and shook your head, wiping away a few tears, “I’m 27 today.”

He offered a sympathetic smile, “happy birthday.”

And that’s how it started. You never intended on staying with him, and you’re more than sure he never meant to let you stay, but you both soon found that you enjoyed the company of each another. It’d been a long time since either of you had people in your lives, and it just felt nice to have someone around.

Even if you two didn’t say much to each other for the first few months.

Every once in a while, he’d hear you crying and sit by you, softly placing his hand over yours and you’d squeeze it softly. Other times, he’d have restless nights, tossing and turning for hours, and you’d just sit by him and take his hand until he felt at ease. In exchange of him getting food, you taught him how to make his own wine and vodka. You would share books, and every now and again you’d both go to the nearby falls together just to hear something.

This stayed a constant for months until he found you listening to your iPhone one day.

“How do you still have one of those?” he marveled, putting a plate of venison in front of you.

Deer was his specialty.

“My best friend figured out to make a battery one night,” you laughed softly. “She was drunk as shit, but real determined to make it work. She refused to lose all of the comforts from the way things used to be. It was the last gift she ever gave me. I’m not the best when it comes to things like that, so I try not to use it often. I don’t wanna end up breaking it and being fucked,” you finished with a scoff as you pressed ‘pause’ and set it aside.

“What’s special about today?”

“It’s Christmas Eve.”

“Explains why it’s so damn cold,” he muttered, and you laughed softly. “Anything good on there?”

“Depends on what your definition of good is,” you smirked, pouring the both of you a cup of wine. “Being a Jersey girl, there’s a lot of Springsteen on there-”

“You’re from Jersey?” he questioned before he realized he cut you off, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

“No, it’s okay. We’ve never talked about it. Um yeah, I was born and raised in New Jersey. My parents moved to Millbrook after I went off to college. I was here visiting when...when everything happened. Got stuck,” you chuckled humorlessly. “At least I don’t have to worry about paying off my college loans,” you muttered as you cut up your deer and Emmett laughed.

It was the first time you’d actually heard him laugh.

~~

You can read the rest here.

taglist: @autumnrose40

#fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic #fanfiction #A Quiet Place 2 #A Quiet Place II #Emmett #emmett x reader #emmett x you #cillian murphy character #cillian murphy characters #Emmett x Y/N

[juiche]

Commission for lovely Marta of her book's character Felix Croswell. He is a bit of a good guy turns villain character and I love him :)

#book is yet to be published :> #OC #art #artwork #book character #digital art #1910s #1920s #1910s fashion #1910s art #fashion art #vintage #watercolors #cillian murphy

[indiee19]

28 Days Later

(Source: Alamy)

#cillian murphy #28 days later #jim 28 days later #28 weeks later #cillian murphy character #danny boyle #naomi harris