Time off 💕 : Tommy gets home after a long day at work and you are not waiting for him like you normally do and finds you sick in bed.
Obey 🔞 : Family meetings, they’re a big thing around the Shelbys… They happen quite often and they can be messy. But what happens when Y/N doesn’t agree with Thomas Shelby in front of everyone?
Little Girl 🔞 💕 : During the war with the Changrettas, you discover that you are expecting another baby. Tommy points out by y/n's symptoms that it’s a different pregnancy and assumes it’s a little girl on the way, but he doesn’t really like it… or does he?
Let It Burn 🌩: You get sick of waiting for him to change. You need him to listen to you. Maybe trying to set fire to his opium will do?
Story time 💕: After a few days being absent in his familly, Tommy arrives late, once again. But to his surprise you and his son are still awake.
Stay 🔞🌩💕: Tommy realizes that despite him trying to avoid it, he loves and needs you.
Tomato plants 🔞 💕:You are Tommy's friend, but one night, when he walks through your window, everything you know about your relationship with him changes.
500 followers celebration: These are short one shots I wrote based on prompts. hope you like them:
- 1 (it was open and I read it),
- 2 (I meant it when I said for better or for worse)
Series Ongoing:
Queen of Heart: Y/N Hughes is a businesswoman. She owns a transport company with her brother Cris in Birmingham. She runs into the Peaky Blinders and ends up doing business with them, but as business goes, they end up falling for each other. But they have a turbulent way to go, is their relationship ready for the test?
Parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - Not being continued for now
Honor and Blood: you are a gypsy and your family lives near Birmingham Tommy Shelby needs a favor and Johnny Dogs says you’re the one he should ask for. A meeting is scheduled and when Tommy meets you, he is instantly drawn to you. (Check the > Moodboard)
Unhealed Love: You and Tommy have history… a long one but to cut the story short he pushed you away, shut you out of his life without giving you a chance to try another path… a path together, but you felt so angry at him that you didn’t want to try it either. Maybe it was better this way... more than ten years passed and you thought you'd had your time to heal but one day was all it took to destroy that idea of getting over Tommy Shelby.
Part: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5
Best Aid: you are a young doctor in Birmingham. After a crazy incident, Thomas Shelby shows up at your hospital. You don't know much about the man everyone seems to fear, but you definitely will. (Modern Tommy)
Part: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10
Cillian Murphy X Reader
Series Ongoing:
Ceramics lessons: after much insistence from his sister, Cillian attends a ceramics class with her. To his surprise, he feels a connection to the teacher, you. Will this connection go any further or will it be smashed like a bad ceramic project?
Summary: you are a young doctor in Birmingham. After a crazy incident, Thomas Shelby shows up at your hospital. You don’t know much about the man everyone seems to fear, but you definitely will.
Warning: swearing, metion of blood and dead body
A/N: Comment and interact, tell me what you think! it means a looot. Hi guyss!!!! long time no see hahaha, sorry for the hiatus, needed some time. Can't promise i'll be back 100% posting every week but i'll try for sure! Gotta say i missed writing :)
English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes.
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You walked into the kitchen, your steps hesitant as you took in the surroundings. It was immaculate, the stainless steel counters gleaming under the fluorescent lights, everything in its place. You marveled at how spotless everything was, exactly what you’d expect from a Michelin-star hotel kitchen.
Despite the perfection, the space felt eerily empty.
"Thomas?" you called out softly. There was no immediate response. You stepped further in, the silence pressing down on you. "Thomas?" you called out again, a bit louder this time.
A noise came from behind one of the closed metal doors, a soft shuffling sound. You moved toward it, your curiosity piqued.
"Thomas, are you in here?" you called, your voice echoing slightly in the quiet kitchen.
The door swung open, and Thomas appeared, his suit jacket off, wearing black gloves, a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. His black hair was messy, and the lighting made his piercing blue eyes appear even more intense. He stared at you, his eyes slightly widened in surprise at the sight of you.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice rough with a mix of surprise and something else you couldn’t quite place.
You hesitated, suddenly feeling out of place. "I just... I thought you might need some help cleaning up," you stammered, gesturing awkwardly to the spotless kitchen around you. "But it looks like you've got everything under control."
Thomas looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
You noticed how his shirt clung to his chest, the sweat highlighting the strong lines of his muscles. Despite the sweat and the gloves, he still managed to look effortlessly handsome.
"I appreciate the offer," he finally said, his voice softer now but still distant. "But you shouldn't be here."
You blinked, taken aback by the firmness in his tone. "I just thought... I mean. I don’t know. Sorry, this was a bad idea." You pulled the whisky bottle from behind your back, showing it to him. "I brought this," you said softly. "I just thought we could… share a drink?"
Thomas's eyes flickered to the bottle, recognition and interest crossing his features. He let out a sigh, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "I could use a drink," he said.
"Yeah?" you nodded, feeling a bit more at ease. "I figured it might help make the cleaning an easier job."
He glanced at the door behind him, then back at you, weighing his options. Finally, he nodded. "Alright.", he said and walked over to a nearby cabinet, pulling out two glasses. He set them on the counter and motioned for you to come closer.
You joined him at the counter, watching as he poured the amber liquid into the glasses. The rich scent of the whiskey filled the air, mingling with the faint hint of his cologne. He handed you a glass, and you clinked it lightly against his.
He slid a cigarette between his lips again, and this time he lit it.
“I don't think you should smoke in here,” you said, a bit unsure about the rules of this place.
Thomas leaned against the counter, his eyes studying you. "And you really shouldn't be here, you know," he said, though his tone was more resigned than firm.
"I know," you admitted, looking down at your glass. "I guess... I just wanted to be around someone."
He nodded, understanding in his eyes, his gaze drifting to the door behind him. "I have to wait for my brothers to help take out the... garbage."
You raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “I could help,” you offered.
“No,” he said abruptly. “Can’t have you do that, it’s heavy and disgusting… besides, you’re a guest.”
“You sure? I can handle it,” you joked, showing him your biceps.
“Yes, drop it, eh?” he said while smoke left his lips, his voice sounding exhausted.
You nodded, accepting, unsure why he was being so incisive. "So, this is how a Michelin star kitchen looks like," you said, trying to lighten the mood. "It's spotless. I can see my tired reflection on this counter."
He chuckled softly, the sound a welcome relief.
"It should be." Thomas took another drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around his head as he exhaled. He regarded you with a thoughtful expression, his blue eyes piercing and intense. "So, why are you really here?" he asked, his tone gentler now.
You shifted on your feet, feeling a bit exposed under his gaze. "I couldn't sleep," you admitted. "And my room felt too empty… but I can go if I'm bothering you."
Thomas shook his head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "No, it's not that. I enjoy your company."
You felt a wave of relief wash over you, your earlier unease starting to dissipate. "Good," you said with a small smile. "I was beginning to think I made a terrible mistake coming here."
He chuckled, the sound low and comforting. "Not a mistake," he said. "Just a surprise, I’m not used to surprises."
He reached for the whiskey bottle to refill your glass, stepping closer to you. The scent of his cologne washed over you again, intoxicating and familiar. As he filled his own glass, you took another sip of whiskey trying to mask the heat that spread through you and the undeniable desire for him that only grew with his proximity.
"Want more?" he asked, his voice a low rumble, His eyes met yours and for a moment you got lost in them.
You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding. "Yes," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "But not whiskey."
Before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the distance between you and Thomas, pressing your lips against his. The kiss was electric, a rush of heat surging through you as your hands found their way to his shoulders. He responded immediately, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. It was just as you remembered and dreamed of so many times before.
His lips were firm and demanding, his breath mingling with yours as the kiss deepened. You could taste the whiskey on his tongue.
His hands roamed your back, fingers digging into your skin, making you shiver with anticipation.
The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in the spotless kitchen.
His touch was everywhere, igniting sparks wherever he caressed. Thomas broke the kiss just long enough to whisper against your lips, "Are you sure about this?"
You nodded, breathless and wanting. "Yes."
With that, he captured your lips again, the kiss growing more urgent and passionate. The chemistry between you was undeniable, the longing in his touch matching your own.
Thomas lifted your body effortlessly, placing you on top of one of the cold counters. The chill of the stainless steel against your skin was a stark contrast to the fire burning within you. The sensation sent a shiver up your spine, heightening your awareness of his every touch and caress.
His hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, your thighs, every inch of skin he could reach. He positioned himself between your legs, his body pressing against yours, creating an exquisite friction that made you gasp.
His fingers traced the contours of your face, brushing your hair out of the way as he pulled you closer.
Thomas's touch was both tender and possessive, his hands moving with a surety that made your pulse race. He gripped your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he kissed you with a fervor different from anyone else. The heat of his body, the intensity of his kiss, it was all-consuming. You could barely breathe, but it was too good to even try.
His lips traveled down your neck, leaving a trail of burning kisses as he explored your sensitive skin. You arched against him, your fingers tangling in his hair as he moved lower kissing your breasts, burying his face on them, his hands gripping your waist to keep you steady.
Just as you were losing yourself completely in the moment, a noise outside the doors broke through the haze of desire. You both paused, breathless and on edge, but chose to ignore it and in a second his lips were glued to yours again, your need for each other was just too strong to be interrupted.
However, the doors swung open, and Arthur and John Shelby walked in. Their boisterous laughter filled the room, and they froze at the sight before them.
"Bloody hell, Tommy!" Arthur exclaimed, his eyes wide with surprise.
John smirked, raising an eyebrow. "I told ya they’re fucking."
Thomas didn't move away, his body still pressed against yours, but his eyes flicked to his brothers with a mix of irritation. You felt a flush of embarrassment, but Thomas's presence was steadying.
He turned back to you, his hand gently cupping your face. "Why don’t you go to your room? After we’re done, I’ll be there, eh?" he promised, his voice a husky whisper meant only for you. With a final, lingering kiss, he stepped back and helped you down, his eyes never leaving yours.
You nodded, your heart still pounding from the intensity of the moment. As you made your way out of the kitchen, you could hear Arthur and John chuckling, their voices a mix of teasing and admiration for their brother. Thomas’s gaze followed you until you disappeared from view,
As you walked back to your room, the cool air of the hallway helped ease your heartbeats. The encounter replayed in your mind, each touch and kiss vivid in your memory. You reached your room, the quietness of it now feeling comforting rather than empty.
***
Thomas POV
Thomas watched as you walked out of the kitchen, your steps hesitant but determined. The air was thick with the remnants of your heated encounter, and he could see the confusion and longing in your eyes as you left.
He wanted to follow you, but duty called.
Turning his attention back to the two men now in his kitchen, Thomas sighed. Arthur and John were grinning, clearly enjoying the unexpected scene they had stumbled upon.
"Well, well, Tommy," Arthur said, clapping his brother on the back with a laugh. "Looks like you’re having more fun than the rest of us."
John leaned against the doorframe, his smirk widening. "I told ya they'd be at it like rabbits. Why do you think he gave her a bloody room?"
Thomas shot them both a glare that could have melted steel. “Fuck off, lets just finish this, eh. We have some cleaning up to do”
Arthur raised an eyebrow, taking in the pristine kitchen. “Clean up?”
John chuckled, “Is that what you were doing, Tommy? Cleaning up?”
Thomas rolled his eyes, trying to rein in his frustration
Arthur's eyes twinkled with mischief as he asked, “Did y/n help you clean up?”
Thomas shot John a warning look, his patience thinning. “Fuck off, John. Can we just get on with this? The sooner we deal with it, the sooner we can all go to bed.”
Arthur grinned, clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing. “To y/n’s bed, you mean?”
Arthur raised his hands in mock surrender, though his grin remained. “Alright, alright. Just trying to have a bit of fun. The war is fucking over, we should fucking celebrate.”
John grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the counter. He took a swig and then handed it to Arthur. “Since Tommy’s already celebrating tonight,” he chuckled, “no reason why we shouldn’t, hm? Celebrate the end of the bloody chaos, eh?”
Arthur took the bottle with a chuckle and took a swig himself before handing it back to John. “Fair enough. Here’s to the end of another bloody mess.”
Thomas shook his head, but a small smile tugged at his lips. “Let’s get on with it.”
Arthur, John, and Thomas shared a few more swigs from the bottle.
John wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and turned to Thomas. “Alright, let’s move on to the fun part.”
Thomas led the way, his mood shifting. He guided his brothers to a door at the back of the kitchen. With a resigned sigh, he opened it, revealing the room where the body was wrapped in plastic.
The room was a stark contrast to the immaculate kitchen: bloodstains marred the floor, and the smell of iron lingered in the air. The man, now partially wrapped in plastic, lay on the floor with the wrapping only reaching his waist. Thomas had started the process of cleanup but had been interrupted by your unexpected arrival.
Arthur took in the scene with a grim expression, then spat on the corpse with a sneer. “Hope he’s having fun in hell,” he muttered. “The bastard.”
John nodded in agreement, his face set in a grim line.
Thomas took a deep breath and grabbed more plastic sheeting and tape from the corner of the room. He started wrapping the body with practiced efficiency, while Arthur and John began to clean up the bloodstains.
The brothers worked in a grim but methodical rhythm.
As they worked, the whiskey bottle made rounds, helping to ease the tension and make the task a bit more bearable. The banter continued, though it was now laced with dark humor and the occasional exasperated comment.
Arthur, scrubbing the bloodstains vigorously, looked up with a wry grin. “You know, we nedd to hire people for this job. Or else i’ll start givin’ mops for you both on christmas”
John snorted, glancing over from his position mopping up the floor. “Or a set of rubber gloves. you look dashing in them, Tommy.”
Thomas, carefully securing the plastic around the body, shot them both a tired glare. “I’d prefer to be done with this before you two start making jokes. This is the least fun I’ve ever had in a kitchen.”
Arthur laughed, shaking his head. “Least fun? I’d say it’s the most entertaining thing I’ve seen in a while. Remember when we thought the last guy was trouble? For a moment I thought this war would last forever”
John raised an eyebrow, raising his glass of whiskey as if to toast. “Yeah, unfortunately there will always be a next one… Here’s to the next one not being such a bloody nuisance. And to Tommy, who’s clearly found a new hobby in corpse wrapping.”
Arthur leaned back, pretending to examine the room critically. “Could be a new career path.”
Thomas, despite himself, let out a small chuckle. “Yeah, well, if I ever get tired of running the business, I’ll be sure to put that on my resume.”
Finally, with the last of the blood cleaned and the body securely wrapped, Thomas wiped his hands and sighed in relief. “Alright, you two get rid of him and get some sleep. We’ve done enough for one night.”
John nodded, holding up the almost empty bottle. “To surviving another night, and to hopefully never having to clean up another mess like this.”
Arthur clinked his glass against John's, a grim smirk on his face. “Cheers to that. And let’s hope we don’t have to do it again anytime soon.”
With that, John and Arthur moved the body, carefully placing it into the back of the car.
After ensuring everything was in order, Thomas took a deep breath, the weight of the night settling on his shoulders and took a bottle of wine before turning off the lights.
He walked towards the elevator, his suit jacket draped over his arm. The dimly lit hallway seemed to amplify the quiet of the early morning, a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded just hours before.
As he waited for the elevator, his mind replayed the night’s events with a clarity that came from both adrenaline and reflection. Just a few hours ago, his world had felt like it was closing in on him.
He had just exited his car on the parking levels of the hotel, expecting nothing more than to take his aunt to the airport and then head back to his own plans.
But fate had other ideas.
As soon as he left the car, the barrel of a gun had been pressed against his head, the cold metal a chilling reminder of how quickly life could take a turn for the worse.
The past week had been a game of cat and mouse, aimed at driving his adversary to desperation, and here it was, the culmination of their dangerous dance.
The words had emerged from the shadows “Hello, Thomas,” the man’s voice cut through the darkness, his Italian accent dripping with menace. “Not happy to see me?” he looked on edge, under the effect of something, flicking his eyes constantly. If Thomas could see his pupils, they would definitely be altered.
If it had been anyone else, shock might have taken over. But Thomas had had a gun pointed at his head far too often for that. He raised his brows, shaking his head with a wry smirk as he turned to see the man. “Never am. Don’t try to take credit.”
The man’s smile faltered slightly, surprise flickering in his eyes. Thomas’s calm demeanor and biting retort seemed to unsettle him.
“Thomas?” Polly’s voice echoed, he could sense the fear in it. But her unexpected arrival had been a stroke of luck, pulling the man’s attention away just long enough for Thomas to act.
In a swift, practiced move, Thomas had disarmed the man, twisting the gun from his grip and turning the tables. The adrenaline rush had sharpened his focus, the situation becoming a brutal dance of survival. As he took control, he couldn’t help but feel a grim satisfaction, seeing the fear in the man's eyes.
Too afraid to admit he liked seeing it there.
Now, as he walked into the elevator, Thomas let out a slow breath. He pressed the button for your floor, the elevator's soft ding barely registering against the backdrop of his thoughts as everything kept replaying in his head. At least it was over. Until someone new comes along. there will always be someone new...
The elevator doors slid open, pulling him from his reverie. He stepped out and walked down the corridor, still smelling faintly of whiskey and sweat.
He reached your room and knocked softly. The encounter with you earlier had been intense, and it lingered in his mind. He wondered if being here was the right decision, if he should do this, or if he should spare you from himself. Maybe that was the best thing he could do for you—walk away before his world tainted yours again.
The door opened, and Thomas met your gaze with a mixture of tenderness and exhaustion. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice carrying a note of relief.
“You took your sweet time,” you smiled. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming.”
Thomas smiled, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten at the sight of you. Your smile, warm and inviting, was a welcome relief from the night’s events.
“Sorry about that,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Things got a bit complicated, the trash bag ripped and it was messy,” he lied. “I brought wine; me and me brothers drained the whiskey.”
You chuckled as he handed you the bottle. “Oh, that’s okay,” you smiled. “I prefer wine.”
He reached out and gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a tender gesture. He enjoyed not only the feel of your soft skin against his thumb but also how you nestled your face against his hand.
Thomas leaned in and placed a gentle, slow kiss on your lips, savoring the moment. It felt like you were both moving in slow motion, the world outside fading away as you shared this quiet, intimate connection.
As he pulled back slightly, he looked into your eyes, searching for some sign of what you were thinking. “You sure you want this?” he asked, his voice low and rough, laced with the rough edge of his Birmingham accent. “I don’t want to see you like that again. I don’t want to see you so consumed by fear that you can’t breathe.”
You met his gaze steadily, your fingers lightly tracing the line of his jaw. Your gaze felt empty for way too long. Thomas had never wished to be able to read minds like this before.
“I thought you said it was over,” you admitted, your voice soft yet tinged with uncertainty. “Whatever it was... A war, was it a war?”
“Yes, the dispute is over, but there will always be something else,” Thomas replied, his tone resigned, carrying the weight of a man accustomed to perpetual conflict.
“Will it be tonight?” you asked, your voice surprising him with its quiet determination.
“No, not tonight,” he answered, his voice gentle yet firm.
“Then let’s not talk about it,” you said, your tone carrying a subtle plea.
“I just don’t want you to fear me again,” Thomas confessed, his voice rough and vulnerable, a stark contrast to his usual controlled demeanor.
“Then don’t give me a reason to,” you replied, your voice steady and resolute.
“I believe I never did,” he said, his tone almost questioning, searching for reassurance.
You paused and tried to remember. He never did, not directly. Your mind always just did the job of making things bigger than they should be. Oh no, wait.
“Yes, you did. My house, my car, beaten men,” you listed, your voice growing more animated with each point.
“That was not me,” he said defensively, his voice strained.
“Not directly. But it was supposed to affect you,” you countered, your tone softer now, but still firm.
“Thomas, we have been through this. I don't want to talk about that anymore. I asked for time, you gave me time. I want this,” you said, holding onto his forearms. “If you are unsure, then you should go.”
“Oh, I’m very sure,” he replied, his voice low and resolute.
“Then show me,” you challenged, your voice steady.
A/N: SORRRRYYYYYY but it willl finally happen :) this chapter was too long already
Summary: you are a young doctor in Birmingham. After a crazy incident, Thomas Shelby shows up at your hospital. You don’t know much about the man everyone seems to fear, but you definitely will.
Warning: swearing
A/N: Comment and interact, tell me what you think! it means a looot. Hi guyss!!!! long time no see hahaha, sorry for the hiatus, needed some time. Can't promise i'll be back 100% posting every week but i'll try for sure! Gotta say i missed writing :)
English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes.
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A week has passed since your last conversation with Thomas. In that time, you had only seen each other once when he came to pick up John Doe, now also known as Johnny Dogs. This time apart helped you sort out your feelings about everything you had been through in the past few weeks.
Surprisingly, the week went by like any other. You kept up with your shifts, visited your mom and brother over the weekend, and caught up on your TV series episodes. It felt like everything had returned to how it was before the man with the incredibly blue eyes walked into your emergency room, and you saved him.
Back to your normal and safe routine.
As soon as your shift ended, you joined Jeremy and his fiancé, Alan, for a pizza night at their place. You spent the evening eating, drinking wine, and gossiping about everything, from the most unrealistic romances at the hospital to Alan’s latest work presentation.
The evening turned out better than you imagined. Being in Jeremy's company is always great; he's a clown, constantly making everyone laugh, even if not intended.
Alan, on the other hand, has a geekier style and is a bit more reserved, resembling those cute librarians the main character falls for in a classic romantic movie. They were a perfect match.
After dinner, your stomach ached from laughter and overeating. The fact that you spent the past few hours laughing and getting drunk made you feel like things were back on track again.
You left their place feeling happy and carefree.
The lobby of your hotel was nearly deserted, with only a few employees and scattered guests, which was odd because the hotel restaurant was usually packed at this hour every day.
As you waited for the elevator, the quiet murmur of the lobby was interrupted by two passing employees whispering about the kitchen being closed for maintenance. “An intern messed something up,” the woman said, her voice loud enough for you to catch.
When the elevator doors opened, Thomas stood there, looking effortlessly handsome. Your heart skipped a beat, and your stomach fluttered nervously. When his eyes met yours he gave a small smile.
You smiled back, hoping your voice wouldn’t betray your nerves. "Heading up?" He nodded, and you stepped into the elevator. The space suddenly felt much smaller. His presence, his warmth, and that cologne mingling with the faint buzz from the wine, made your pulse quicken. "I didn't even know there was a floor below us" you chuckled, trying to ease your nerves. “Well, obviously, there are several negative buttons here," you pointed to the panel awkwardly. “Funny… I never noticed it before.”
"Just a few parking levels," he said in his smooth Birmingham accent, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "How are you? You seem happy."
"Well, I am," you smiled, butterflies dancing in your stomach. "And also in urgent need of a shower. But I'm good." You leaned against the elevator wall, the weight of your shift and your growing desire for him pressing down on you.
"Had a good night, eh?" he asked, glancing briefly at the notification on his phone.
"Yeah, trying to enjoy myself before next week," you said, "I have 36 consecutive hours on call."
"That's a lot of hours," he said, his eyes flicking back to the screen as new notifications appeared.
"Yeah, but I'm used to it," you smiled. "Is everything ok?” you wondered what was all the fuzz on his phone.
“Yeah, just having a kitchen mess today” he put his phone back on his back pocket
“I overheard someone mentiion that it’s closed. A result of some sort of an intern’s lack of care?” you said and watched confused as he frowned
“Sure. That's what happened” he let out almost as a whisper "you should know that things will start to calm down," he replied, and your smile grew wider. His words gave you a glimmer of hope.
"Good to hear that! What happened?" you asked almost as an impulse.
“I'm not sure you want me answering that Y/n…” he chuckled as he got a cigarette out of his pockets. Will he light it in here? you wondered, but he simply put it to rest between his lips.
“Right…” You hesitated, your heart pounding, desperate to talk about something else, too afraid to let that subject be the center of your conversation once again. “So, uh, do you have any plans for tonight?” The question slipped out before you could stop yourself, and you immediately regretted it.
Thomas looked at you with a raised eyebrow, a faint smile playing on his lips. His gaze was penetrating, almost as if he could read your thoughts. "Plans?" he echoed, his tone light but curious.
You quickly clarified, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. "Oh, I didn't mean it like that! I was just wondering what you're up to this late at night." You fidgeted with the strap of your bag, trying to appear nonchalant. Begging for the elevator to stop making random stops at almost every floor and finally get to yours, now hating the fact that he gave you one of the top rooms.
Thomas smiled faintly at your question, his eyes studying you for a moment longer than usual. "Polly is traveling, so I'm checking on things for her and the kitching needs some cleaning up. I'm heading to her room to get the master key"
You nod, trying to hide your slight disappointment at his answer. "Oh, that sounds nice of you," you reply, mentally chiding yourself for asking in the first place. It wasn't like you were inviting him or expecting him to join you, right?. The elevator dinged softly as it reached your floor. “Well, I won't keep you. Have a good night, Thomas."
"You too," he said, his eyes holding yours for a moment longer before you turned and walked down the hallway.
The elevator doors slid shut, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
Why did you ask that? You mentally scolded yourself again as you walked down the hall to your room as you replayed the encounter in your mind.
Thomas's presence had a way of unnerving you, yet you couldn't deny the flutter of excitement his proximity brought. As you walked you were already mentally planning your night: a hot shower, maybe some Netflix, and straight to bed. That's all you need right now.
As you settled into your room, the encounter with Thomas replayed in your mind again, like a vivid movie scene. His smile was etched into your memory, and the way he looked at you sparked a warmth deep within.
Your phone buzzed with a notification, breaking your train of thought. It was a message from Jeremy, asking if you got home okay. You quickly replied, assuring him you were fine and thanking him for the fun evening.
Setting your phone aside, you found yourself unable to shake the lingering thoughts of Thomas. The way his presence seemed to fill the elevator, the scent of his cologne that still lingered in your mind - it all stirred something unfamiliar yet exhilarating.
Suddenly your mind started to play games with you as it imagined his hands on your skin as he kissed you desperately on the elevator. His lips gently caressing your cheek, making his way to the warmth between your legs…His body pressing yours against the cold elevator wall.. fuck!
You sat on the edge of your bed, a sudden heat spreading through you. You needed a cold shower to cool down and clear your head.
After a refreshing shower that did little to dampen the heat of your thoughts, you settled into the living room, deciding to distract yourself with a Netflix series. The soft glow of the screen and the familiar characters helped ease your mind, at least temporarily. Ozzy nestled at your feet enjoying your presence but trying not to show it, as all cats do.
The characters on the screen moved and spoke, but your mind kept drifting back to Thomas.The more you thought about him, the harder it was to focus on the TV.
Your mind replayed all the moments you had shared, trying to convince your horny mind that it would be a bad bad idea. But you couldn't deny the pull you felt towards him, a magnetic attraction that left you both excited and unnerved.
You sighed and shifted on the couch, trying to shake off the thoughts. But they kept coming, flooding.Remembering the first time you kissed, how you just felt like ripping his clothes apart.
And just like that, loneliness settled over you like a heavy blanket. The silence was too loud, and the emptiness too vast. You looked around, seeking something to occupy your time, but nothing seemed appealing. The wine you had with Jeremy and Alan had left you with a pleasant buzz, a feeling of warmth and courage that now pushed you towards a decision.
Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the loneliness, but suddenly, you found yourself standing up, driven by an impulse you couldn't quite explain. The thought of Thomas dealing with the kitchen mess alone nagged at you. You had nothing better to do, and the idea of being around him again was too tempting to resist.
Without giving yourself time to second-guess, you grabbed the bottle of whisky you opened a few nights ago and headed to the door. The walk to the elevator felt surreal, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You pressed the button and waited.
As the elevator doors opened, you took a deep breath and stepped inside. The ride down felt both too quick and agonizingly slow, your thoughts a whirlwind of anticipation. You almost gave up the idea and went back to your room a few times. When the doors opened to the lobby, you made your way towards the kitchen, each step filled with a strange sense of purpose.
You knew it was a bit crazy, but the wine had given you the courage to step out of your comfort zone and yes you needed to fuck, and why the fuck not him?
You reached the kitchen door and paused, taking a moment to steady your breathing and gather the courage to push open the door.
When you were a child, you accidentally wrote a letter to Satan instead of Santa. Now, every year for christmas you get presents from the lord of hell himself.
Graphite drawing of Oscar Winner(!) Cillian Murphy from his role in Oppenheimer — Graphite on Paper
It's been a while since I completed a portrait. Cillian is one of my favorite people to draw. The actual portrait is only about 5"x7" which I've found is much quicker to do. (Also included a closeup and a couple of in-progress pictures to show that this wasn't AI...)
Crossposted to my Instagram @ bluesyjean — Please give a like over there if you want to, or a follow, you know it's impossible to get your work seen over there so any little bit helps!
Summary: you are a young doctor in Birmingham. After a crazy incident, Thomas Shelby shows up at your hospital. You don’t know much about the man everyone seems to fear, but you definitely will.
Warning: swearing, mention of torture and panick attack
A/N: Comment and interact, tell me what you think! it means a looot.
English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes.
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On your next shift, the first thing you did when you arrived at the hospital was go straight to John Doe's room to see if he was still there.
To your surprise, yes, he was still there.
He had already undergone jaw surgery the day before, and to an even greater surprise, he was awake. He stared at the room's window as if he was hypnotized.
"Hi," you said, entering the room. "Good to see you awake," you smiled.
He shifted his attention from the window to you but didn't say anything. Well, he couldn't speak, as his mouth was paralyzed on the side of the jaw surgery, and it would probably stay that way for a while.
His face was much less swollen and deformed then you had remembered.
You approached him to get the medical record and check the progress of his exams. "My name is Y/N; I was the doctor on duty the night you arrived. Do you feel any pain?" He subtly shook his head, and when you asked if you could examine him, he gave a small nod.
During the examination, you proceeded with caution, aware of the potential trauma he might have experienced. The signs of infection from his blood test had decreased, and the wound appeared to be healing well. Other than that, he was healing well.
After completing the examination, you left the room and returned to the trauma center, where you met with the shift residents and assigned tasks.
You started to overthink why Thomas hadn't stolen your patient, but as you created a thousand questions in your head, you just decided to accept the situation and move on with your day. After all, he did comply with your request.
Continuing your rounds, you attended to other patients.
During a break in the staff lounge, Jeremy joined you with his usual big smile. "Hey girl, how are you?" he asked, taking a seat beside you.
"Hey," you smiled back. "I'm good, you?"
"Great. Doctor says my fiancé has prostatitis," he said, relieved.
"Good, some antibiotics should solve it. Might take a while, though." you smiled
"Yeah... no sex for a while… well, at least it's not cancer," he joked.
"Dodged a bullet, huh?" you chuckled.
"Yes, yes. I was worried," he sighed. "Are you really okay? I didn't see you leave last shift."
You sighed, debating how much to share with Jeremy. "It's been a wild ride, Jer. There's this whole situation with the patient, and then late at night, Thomas showed up. It's like a never-ending rollercoaster with him."
Jeremy's smile faded, replaced by genuine concern. "What?" he asked, leaning in slightly.
"Yeah. And I fucking had a panic attack after he told me he would discharge John Doe. But then... he was so kind, helping me through the panic. I just... I don't know. I'm so confused about everything," you confessed.
"He just showed up and wanted to discharge the unconscious, almost dying man?" he asked, and you nodded.
"And as I argued he couldn't, I suddenly couldn't breathe," you shrugged. "I need a break. I told him I didn't want to see him. He just doesn't care."
Jeremy's expression turned from concern to disbelief. "That's insane. He is insane.”
“Just figuring that out now?” you frowned and sighed “But… At the same time, he brought the man in, and I don’t think he did all that to him. Also, he didn't steal my patient… and he was so so gentle to me.”
Jeremy furrowed his brows. “Okay, listen up, I love you. But you've got to figure out what you want from him, Y/N. It's not healthy to be caught in this constant state of confusion. You either want him or not."
“I don’t,” you blurted out.
“Shut up, you don’t. If you didn’t, what he did or didn’t do wouldn’t bother you,” he said, cutting through your protest with a knowing look.
You sighed, realizing Jeremy might be onto something. The conflicting emotions and the chaos Thomas brought into your life were undeniable, and deep down, you questioned your own motives.
“I just can't make sense of it, Jer. He's this enigma, this complicated man who seems to defy any logic i create,” you confessed, running a hand through your hair.
“People like that can be dangerous to get involved with, Y/N. I don’t want to see you getting hurt. Yes, he’s hot as fuck, might fuck you senselless, but we need boundaries to keep ourselves safe sometimes” Jeremy said, genuine concern etched across his face.
“Yeah I know. I just need time to figure things out,” you replied, your mind still swirling with uncertainty.
“Maybe just fuck him and ghost him” He smiled
“That is definitely not the best option” you chuckled
“Yeah… i just. I want you to get laid. Maybe with someone else. You deserve it. Some dick could make your thoughts clearer” he leaned back as his big smile continued crossing his face
“Yeah, right. As if I have a line of people that want to fuck me”
“Oh girl… you are so oblivious. Let's start with all the male residents! And some nurses… Jesus you have no idea” He said surprised
“I’m gonna go. You forget it, i’m not getting involved with anyone in this hospital” you said
“Okay” he shrugged as you stood up and left
As the day progressed, you found yourself once again immersed in the demanding environment of the hospital.
In the quiet moments between duties, you couldn't help but reflect on Jeremy's words. The need for clarity tugged at you, urging you to confront the feelings you failed to understand.
As you left the hospital that day, the internal conflict within you raged on. Thomas Shelby's presence seemed to evoke a myriad of emotions - confusion, frustration, and an undeniable attraction that left you questioning your own judgment.
When you walked into the lobby of the hotel, you caught sight of Thomas engaged in a serious discussion with his aunt, Polly. The lines on Thomas's face spoke of stress and tension, a departure from his usual composed demeanor.
You stood there, observing from a distance, deciding if you should or not talk to him. Set some things straight. Maybe all you wanted to hear was that he didn’t do anything to the man. Or maybe that he cares about others and that’s the reason he left the man in the hospital care. Or maybe… just maybe… you wanted to hear his husky voice…
As Thomas and Polly concluded their conversation, you observed him preparing to leave the lobby, a sense of urgency evident on his face. Your eyes met, and a shy smile from you prompted a momentary pause, marked by a furrowed brow.
"Can we talk?," you mouthed standind a few feets away from him.
He slightly nodded. Stopping in the middle of the lobby and following you after you started to walk in the direction of the elevators.
As you stepped into the elevator, the atmosphere between you and Thomas was heavy. The air charged with unresolved tension.
The doors closed, enveloping both of you in a temporary cocoon of privacy.
"Alright, Y/N, what's on your mind?" Thomas inquired, his voice low and steady. His posture, rigid yet composed.
You took a deep breath, your gaze fixed on the floor, steeling yourself for the words about to spill out. "I need you to be honest,"
"About?" he replied, his piercing gaze fixed on you.
"The man," you said, meeting his gaze, searching for any hint of emotion in his stoic posture—a true master of the poker face.
"What about him?" His response, delivered with an air of nonchalance
"Did you do that to him?" you pressed
"I already told you that, eh?" he countered, glancing around the elevator as it announced the floor—the floor to your room.
"You didn't," you asserted, the tension escalating with each passing moment.
"Yeah, I didn't do it," he admitted, his eyes meeting yours briefly before the elevator doors opened. You exited first, and he followed, the charged atmosphere trailing into the corridor and eventually into your hotel room.
In the room, you moved with purpose, entering the kitchen to fetch two glasses of water. Placing them on the dining table, you invited him to sit.
"How long will this take?" he inquired, his posture a blend of impatience and reservation.
"Do you have somewhere else to be?" you countered, your eyes locked onto his.
"I do" he answered shortly
"If you want to fix this, take a seat," you added, leaning back and crossing your arms, awaiting his response.
Thomas hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you, weighing the options. After a pause that seemed to stretch on, he finally relented, his movements fluid yet hesitant as he took a seat at the dining table.
You observed him closely, noting the subtle nuances in his posture.
"Why did you bring him to the hospital if you weren't responsible for what happened to him?" you questioned, your voice steady.
His eyes met yours, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. "I never said I wasn't responsible. I said I didn't do it," he responded, the words hanging in the space between you like an unspoken challenge.
“Fuck you” you filled your mouth to say those words, and it felt good “What the fuck is that suppossed to mean?”
"He's a friend," he admitted
"Why didn't you just say that from the beginning?" you retorted, frustration evident in your tone.
Thomas's gaze remained steady, a mixture of regret and resolve in his eyes. "There are things that go beyond simple explanations."
"No, no. Some explanations are pretty simple," you shrugged, your frustration simmering beneath the surface.
"Y/N," he began, his Birmingham accent adding a distinct cadence to his words. "If I started spillin' every detail, you'd be tangled in a mess you're better off avoiding. Because then, you would ask me why my friend was like that. And I would have to tell you, since we're bein' honest, that he was kidnapped and tortured for information about me. Because that's what happens to people around me. And you would ask me why, and I tell you, that's business, and me business is a difficult thing to explain" he continued, his voice carrying the weight of a reality that seemed both distant and uncomfortably close.
The room echoed with a heavy silence, the weight of Thomas's revelations settling around you both. You knew exactly what his business was after a few hours googling him, no. A few hours fucking stalking the man.
"I never asked for any of this, Thomas," you finally spoke, your voice a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "I never signed up for a life entangled in your... business."
Thomas leaned back, his eyes fixed on you, acknowledging the truth in your words. "And I never asked you to. But here we are."
"I don't want to end up like your friend," you stated firmly, your voice carrying the weight of your fears and the boundaries you needed to set.
Thomas's eyes, now revealed a hint of regret. "You won't," he replied, his voice softer than before. "I promise."
You sighed, feeling the weight of the situation settling on your shoulders. Taking both hands to your face, you couldn't shake off the stress that had crept into your being.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his usually stoic demeanor giving way to an unexpected tenderness.
"Stressed," you answered
"Aren't we all?" he remarked, a rare hint of vulnerability in his voice.
"Is your life always like this?" you inquired, curiosity peeking.
"No, it has never been like this," he admitted, taking a sip of the water in front of him. "Could be a glass of whisky, eh?" he suggested, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"I don't remember the last time I drank whisky," you confessed.
"Really?" he raised an eyebrow, glancing around the room. "I think there's a bottle somewhere."
"There's a drink cart in the bedroom," you informed him.
After a brief search, he found the cart and walking into the living room with the bottle in hand he looked at you for approval. "One glass?"
"Sure, why not?" you agreed, welcoming the distraction
Thomas poured a modest amount of whisky into two glasses, the amber liquid catching the soft glow of the room. As he handed you a glass, his fingers brushed against yours in a fleeting touch, making your heart race wiht excitement.
As the whisky warmed your insides, Thomas leaned back, the weight of his own burdens evident in the lines of his face. You couldn't help but notice how well he looked, how well dressed he was. If you just saw him crossing the streed, you would never believe that the man in front of you was a fucking gang leader.
The air between you carried a mixture of tension and a strange camaraderie born out of the unexpected intimacy of the moment.
"This is better," Thomas remarked, studying the liquid in his glass after taking a sip.
"You know, this isn't how I imagined our conversation going," you admitted, a wry smile playing on your lips.
Thomas chuckled, the sound rich and resonant. "Nor did I, Y/N."
Ozzy appeared, strolling in from the bedroom and hopping onto the couch, where he promptly settled down for a nap. You couldn't help but smile as you watched him make himself comfortable.
"Do you like cats?" you asked, curious about Thomas's preferences.
"No," he answered bluntly.
"Get out of my room," you joked, eliciting a chuckle from him. "Why not?"
He shrugged. "I just don't."
"Yeah, you look like a dog person."
"I have horses, I don't have a dog."
"Oh, right. Rich people pets," you teased, a playful smile on your face.
Thomas raised an eyebrow at your playful jab. "Horses are not exactly house pets," he remarked, a hint of amusement in his tone.
"Fair point," you conceded, enjoying the banter that seemed to ease the tension. "So, what does Thomas Shelby do for fun? Besides making me insane, of course"
His gaze flickered with a subtle mix of contemplation and amusement. "Fun... hm, let's say I like riding horses, reading, and chess."
"Chess, huh? I bet I can win” you smiled, gaze locked on his
Thomas Shelby leaned back, a mysterious glint in his eyes as he considered your challenge about chess. "You can try," he said, his smirk hinting at a quiet confidence.
The air between you felt lighter. You felt good about it. He could be a good company.
"What happened?" you asked, meeting his gaze. Thomas frowned slightly, not understanding what you meant. "How did a guy that likes horses and plays chess turn my life upside down? making me feel like I couldn't breathe for days? Made me fear my life. At one point I felt so paranoid that i could swear there was someone was following me down the hospital. Because the Thomas in here now... I like this Thomas."
There was a moment of silence, Thomas's gaze held a mixture of contemplation and a touch of vulnerability you failed to see before.
"I already told you I didn't intend for any of this, Y/N," he began, his voice softer than usual “Believe me if you want, I didn't want you to get caught in it. But then, I woke up and you were already involved”
"I know," you admitted, your voice reflecting a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. "But I don't know how to navigate through this. It's like stepping into a world or a war I never knew existed."
He reached across the table, his hand covering yours in a gesture of reassurance that sent a little jolt through you. "Look, I want you to know that I won't leave you alone in the chaos I've brought. Ok?", You nodded
His touch, warm and reassuring, sent a subtle thrill through you, awakening a desire you hadn't fully acknowledged since he walked in here tonight. As your eyes locked with his, an unspoken promise hung in the air, and for a brief moment, you found myself teetering on the edge of exploring something deeper with Thomas Shelby.
you cleared your throat, a nervous habit that betrayed the tumultuous thoughts racing through your mind. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" you managed to inquire, hoping to redirect the conversation and temper the rising anticipation. The effects of the whisky were starting to weave their magic, adding a layer of haziness to your judgment.
"I do," he sighed taking his hand from yours and adjusting his suit. "I enjoyed our talk. Are we in a better place?"
"Yeah, just... don't bring me more near-death guys. Please," you chuckled, the sound echoing in the room.
"And who would I take them to?," he replied, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
“I don't know" you shrugged "Government health system is avaible in birmingham"
He chuckled "yes, i have a hospital so that I can send my friends to the public system" he mocked
"Well... can I just ask you to try and be honest? That's all I really need from you. I don't want to fear you”
"Are you sure the truth won't make you do exactly that?,"
"So far it hasn't, the other way around actualy" you answered
"Fine. That's a challenging thing to ask me, but sure. I can try," he agreed.
"Good," you smiled.
"Have a good night, Y/N," he said, starting to stand up. As he rose, something compelled him to lean down, and he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
"You too," you replied, feeling a strange mix of surprise and comfort. As he headed toward the door, you couldn't help but blurt out, "Wait, why didn’t you steal my patient?"
He stopped in his tracks, turning back to face you. "I couldn’t have him die on me, and… I trust you," he explained, his words hanging in the air. It left you with a complex swirl of emotions.
"Can I ask his name?" you inquired.
"Johnny Dogs. He's not registered, by the way. So, keep it as John Doe. If people start asking too many questions, you tell me," he instructed, and you nodded. His gaze holding yours for a moment longer before he walked out.
With a deep sigh, you sank back into your chair, contemplating the unexpected twists of the day.
The Thomas you saw in here now was the same one you welcomed into your home and that version of Thomas was surprisingly good company. That was the Thomas who drew you in, the one you found yourself attracted to. Yet, how could he embody two entirely different personas simultaneously? one you felt like punching and other you felt like kissing...
At least, he trusted you.
The knowledge of his trust provided a welcome boost to your self-esteem. Despite the whirlwind of confusion and complexity, you couldn't deny the comfort in knowing that, in his own enigmatic way, Thomas Shelby trusted in you.
Summary: after much insistence from his sister, Cillian attends a ceramics class with her. To his surprise, he feels a connection to the teacher, you. Will this connection go any further or will it be smashed like a bad ceramic project?
Previous parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7
Warning: swearing, fluff and mention of drugs
A/n: hey guys! please don’t forget to let me know what you think! Hope you like it.
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The next day you woke up with no news from Cillian. But still, the day was sunny and warm, a good day to be alive, to stand up from the bed and go live another day, you thought as you stretched watching the view from your bedroom window.
You got ready to go to your morning jog, enjoying your free time from classes. Not that you don’t like being a teacher. But it’s so good to have some time to yourself.
As you ran you made your way to the beach to admire the people around. The beach was noisy and filled with people and their dogs. You smiled admiring the simple things, the kids laughed as the dog fetched the ball inside the ocean, the little girl running after her mom, the young playing volleyball and a couple nested close together. You breathed in the ocean breeze and continued your race.
After quite some time you returned home and took a relaxing shower.
You jumped on the couch with your notebook and began drawing some piece ideas for your next collection until the intercom buzzed. You made your way to it and pressed the button
“Who 's it?” you asked
“Me, mon amour!” a familiar voice answered
“Bela?!” you asked happily
“Yes, now let your sister in!! I’m sweating as a horse out here” she demanded
You quickly allowed her passage inside the building with the click of another button and in a few seconds she was at your door.
You hugged her tightly “I don't want to let go” you said, your words muffled in her hair.
“I’m afraid you have too because I need to pee asap. Unless you like me too pee on your floor” she joked
“No, I'm good,” you said, unhugging her and letting her inside to rush to the bathroom.
Isabela emerged from the bathroom with a dramatic sigh of relief, and you both settled into the familiar comfort of your living room. She looked around, taking in the sketches scattered on the coffee table.
"Still working on your pottery empire, I see," Isabela teased, settling onto the couch.
You chuckled, joining her. "Always. So, what brings you here? Not that I'm complaining. It's a pleasant surprise."
Isabela flashed a mischievous smile. "Well, my dear, I happen to be in town for a few days. Work-related stuff. And I thought, why not drop by and check on my favorite sister?"
You grinned. "Lucky me."
Isabela shared more details about her recent adventures in Paris, the bustling fashion scene, and the eccentric characters she had encountered in the city of love. As she told you her stories, you fetched her some water and some snacks.
As you listened to her animated stories, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for your sister's accomplishments.
Isabela's vibrant energy filled the room, a stark contrast from you.
Isabela, with her flamboyant personality and penchant for drama, was like a burst of color in a room, drawing attention effortlessly. Her stories of high-fashion escapades and eccentric characters filled the air with an infectious enthusiasm. She possessed an outward, effervescent charm that charmed everyone around her.
You, on the other hand, were the quiet force, absorbing the energy around you and channeling it into your art. Your introspective nature allowed you to delve deep into your creative process, finding inspiration in the subtle nuances of everyday life. But you were not entirely introverted, you are not shy or anything like it. On the contraire, you like being around people and socializing, but maybe after many years in therapy you learned to love yourself to a point where you prefer your company over anyone else’s.
While Isabela sparkled like a firework, you were the steady glow of a candle, radiating warmth and depth.
"But how long are you planning to stay?" you asked randomly as Isabela finished a story about peacocks. You loved your sister, but sometimes she was too much for you, so staying too long with her could be a challenge.
"Jesus. Already kicking me out, sis? I can go stay with mom and dad," she said, her mouth full of peanuts.
"I wasn't kicking you out. I just have to plan," you shrugged.
"Right, I don't know. I think I’ll leave Thursday, so... four days," she counted on her fingers. "Can you house me for four days?"
"Of course," you smiled.
"And how is life here? How are your classes going?" she asked with a gentle glare.
"All good. All are filled. I don't have any more free spots," you shared, your gaze drifting to the sketches scattered on the table. "I've been caught up with my pottery classes, and I must admit I love it. But I’ve been taking some projects aside. I am currently making some pieces for a new hotel."
“Uh, that's fancy! And oh my god, it's incredible to not have any empty spots! I’m so proud,” she declared, making you smile genuinely.Isabela leaned in, genuine curiosity in her eyes. "Tell me more about your life here. Any exciting developments, intriguing characters, or perhaps a dirty romance?"
You chuckled at her dramatic flair. "No dirty romance, Bela.It's not as exciting as your Parisian escapades. Just the usual pottery classes and some interesting students."
She raised an eyebrow. "Interesting students, you say? Anyone caught your eye? A man perhaps?"
“How do you do that?” you asked.
“Do what?” she asked, confused.
“Read between the lines,” you asked curiously. She shrugged and drank her water. “Oooh,” your mouthed, connecting the dots. “Mom told you.”
“She did. Now tell me, how is he? Is he really that nice? Can a Hollywood star be nice?” she shifted on her spot.
“Cillian is great, he’s nice,” you smiled.
“Oh, come on, give me more! Do I have to beg?" she teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
You rolled your eyes playfully. "Fine, fine.. He's down-to-earth, genuine, and surprisingly humble. Fame hasn't gone to his head, as far as i’ve seen. He's been through a lot, dealing with his ex-wife and son, but he's handling it with grace. And he seems like a great dad."
Isabela leaned back, processing the information. "Well, color me impressed, sis. You've managed to snag yourself a celebrity. I can't wait to meet him. But spill the details, sis! What's he like when the cameras are off? How’ve met?"
You leaned in conspiratorially. "He's just like anyone else. We met in class, his sister is my student. she constantly spoke about him, until one day she brought him in. He has gorgeous eyes and smells great. We've had dinner dates, beach dates.. three dates at total. No drama aside from his ex."
“That she is a crazy one, right?” Isabela interrupted with a smirk as you looked at her puzzled. “Oh come on, when mom told me who you were dating, I had to google!”
You frowned at her. “Really, what did you find?”
“Oh god, you never googled him?” she asked, shocked.
“Didn't want to invade his privacy, or know more than I should. I'd rather learn about him from himself.”
She rolled her eyes. “For fuck's sake, that's so you... well, for your knowledge, I didn't find much. He has done an incredible job at keeping his life to himself. BUT, I can't say the same about her. Do you wanna see her Instagram? It's a crazy person’s Instagram,” she said, already picking up her phone and showing it to you.
You hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded, curiosity getting the better of you. Isabela handed you her phone, displaying a colorful and chaotic Instagram profile.
"There she is," Isabela pointed at a picture of Cillian's ex-wife, her feed filled with flashy and attention-grabbing posts. You scrolled through, feeling a mix of surprise and unease.
"Wow, she really puts everything out there, doesn't she?" you commented, slightly taken aback by a seminude picture with ‘DREAM OF ME’ written on her chest.
You couldn't help but feel a twinge of discomfort seeing such a public display of someone who played a significant role in Cillian's past. You handed Isabela's phone back.
Isabela laughed, "Oh, you have no idea. She's like a whole reality show in one person. her Storys are unique and the captions! ‘you know you want me’ or ‘anybody ready for a good time?’ “ she mocked as she read, making you feel embarrassed for her. “You'd think she's a problematic influencer, not someone's ex-wife… not someone’s mom. I bet in a few months she will create an OnlyFans account"
“For real?”
“Yes, look at her” she showed you the phone again
"Well, she certainly knows how to make a statement," you said, still processing what you had just seen.
Isabela shrugged, her eyes fixed on the screen "Cillian made a wise choice moving on,” she remarked casually, her tone carrying a hint of nonchalance.
You silently agreed, wondering if she was always the same character she seemed to be today.
The conversation sort of ended, and you helped your sister settle into your guest bedroom, all while continuing your discussion.
She had some work to do on her computer, and later that day, you both found yourselves sitting together on the couch, debating over what to eat and what to watch. The various food options displayed on the screen made the decision a tough one.
Just as you were about to settle on a choice, your phone buzzed, and Cillian's name lit up the screen. Isabela's eyes widened with excitement. "Oh, look who it is!” she almost screamed.
A warm smile spread across your face, and you accepted the call. "Hey, you," you greeted.
"Hey there," Cillian's voice echoed through the phone.
"Hi! Perfect timing. We were just trying to decide on dinner," Isabela yelled to your ear, making you quickly stand from the couch and walk inside your bedroom for some privacy.
“Who was that?” Cillian asked after giving a prolonged laugh.
“My sister,” you answered, closing the door and jumping onto your bed.
“Oh, I can call you another time,” he suggested.
“No, it 's ok. How are you?”
“Good, relaxed. Had a good day. You?” he sighed as if he was sitting down.
“Me too. Normal day. My sister surprised me with her visit.”
“You don't sound so happy about that,” he chuckled.
“No, don't get me wrong. I love her so much... but she is too much for my ears to handle all day long. And she is staying until Thursday,” you explained.
“Is she the one that lives in Paris?”
“The one and only.”
“Ah, there is an example of an overrated city,” he teased, his voice carrying a playful tone as he chuckled on the other end of the line. "I'd love to hear more about her. I know from experience that sisters can be quite entertaining"
You chuckled, realizing that your sister's vibrant personality was indeed something to behold. "Oh, she's entertaining, alright. We are about to order in, you can join if you want”
“Oh, y/n. You have no idea how much I would love to, but I have Lukas and we already ate some spaghetti” he said, sounding a bit frustrated.
Cillian's mention of Lukas brought a smile to your face. "Spaghetti sounds good. How is he doing by the way?"
"He 's doing great. Today we went to my brother’s house. He played with his cousins all day, just put him to bed” Cillian replied, the fondness for his son evident in his voice.
“Good. I was worried”
“I can imagine” he sighed and after a few seconds in silence he finally let it out “His mom is using again”
You closed your eyes, not wanting to hear what he just said “I’m so sorry”
“Yeah. Me too. I’ll have to go to court this week” he inhaled and exhaled “I wish i could hold you right now”
“Me too” you smiled “I could make you some hot chocolate, because it warms the heart” you said and he chuckled
“I would love some hot chocolate”
“You could live closer, not almost half an hour” you complained
“I’ll be calling a real estate agent tomorrow to fix that” he said, making you giggle “we should have dinner here. you can meet Lukas”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I want him to meet you”
“And I him”
“Just gotta give him some time. He’s a little upset about not being allowed to see his mom for a while. How about saturday?”
“Saturday is great, but in the meantime you could pass by…”
“We can have lunch anytime you want, Lukas eats at school”
“Tuesday?”
“It’s a date”
“No, my sister will join us, so... not a date…” You chuckled
Hiya i dont want to be a bother on a Sunday or any day for that matter, but i was just wondering if you still are writing honor and blood or if you are taking a break from it and if you are take your time i love your writing so much.
Heyy! You’re not bothering me at all! And to answer your question: yes! I'm still writing it. I was on vacation and now that i’m back, i’ll try and upgrade all my stories :)
Summary: after much insistence from his sister, Cillian attends a ceramics class with her. To his surprise, he feels a connection to the teacher, you. Will this connection go any further or will it be smashed like a bad ceramic project?
Previous parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6
Warning: swearing, fluff and mention of drugs
A/n: hey guys! please don’t forget to let me know what you think! Hope you like it.
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"Hey, is everything okay?" you asked as you approached him.
"Oh, yeah," he responded quickly, stealing a glance at you before returning his attention to the screen in his hands.
"Are you sure?" you insisted, placing a comforting hand on his back as you sat next to him.
He gave you a gentle smile and a short sigh escaped his lips. "Yeah, it’s just… It's my ex-wife," he started, a tired tone in his words. "She called me like a hundred times last night. My phone was down here and in silent mode. I didn't see it," he sounded frustrated.
"What happened? Is your son okay?" you asked, concern evident in your voice.
"I don't know," he sighed. "She's not picking up." He shook the phone.
"Did she text you or something?"
"No, nothing" he shook his head.
"Who called just now?"
"Sile. She wanted to know if I was coming to your class today," he chuckled, and you smiled.
"Well, I am sure you have nothing to worry about, huh? She’s got things covered, probably figured things out on her own?" you said, your hand gently running through his soft hair, trying to give him some comfort.
"Yeah, I am not so sure," he replied, locking the screen and tossing the phone to the side.
You frowned and waited for him to elaborate, but he sat there quietly lost in his own thoughts.
"Why?" you asked, adopting a caring tone in your voice, unsure if it was a sore topic for him.
He took a deep breath and locked his blue eyes with yours, silently debating whether to share or not. Your hand continued to leave patterns on his hair and neck, offering support in the best way you could. You could sense the tension in him.
"She is not a very good mother," he shrugged. "Not nowadays, at least."
"What do you mean?"
"You know how I told you my divorce got ugly? How she played Lukas as a joker card in her bargains?" he asked, and you nodded. "Did I tell you what was my breaking point?"
"You told me she cheated," you reminded.
"Yeah, but we stayed together for a few months after that," he sighed frustrated. "How about we make some coffee?" he suggested, and you nodded, following his lead to the kitchen.
As he filled the coffee grounds into the machine, his mind seemed elsewhere. You leaned against the counter, giving him time to collect his thoughts. The aroma of brewing coffee gradually filling the kitchen air.
Walking over to him, after he finished, you kissed his cheek and then his warm lips. His hand held you strongly, hugging you tightly against him.
"You know, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," you said, breaking the kiss.
"I want to; it's just... It's not a nice breakfast topic after such a great night," he explained.
"Being vulnerable is never easy; it has nothing to do with being during breakfast or after a great night," you smiled.
"Right," he smiled back, taking a small deep breath once again. "We went to a lot of parties when we were together. She’s an agent, so we had to, you know, to network. And she ended up having some friends that weren’t such a good influence. When we met, she had some problems with addiction but it was under control for years. She took care of herself. But after some time, she just stopped. I guess it was the people she started hanging out with, the people she started managing… they took her to the wrong path and i denied seeing it. Her actions started to make no sense, and after I realized what was happening, I tried to help. I know she's sick, and everything she was doing was a reflection of that. So, I went with it for a very long time. Allowing her actions to hurt me with no consequences at all. I tried to hospitalize her once, but that wasn’t pretty… so I tried every other possible way… none worked. I mean, they worked for a while but then just stopped. At that point I was a mess. My family was worried about me and constantly told me to just leave her. But I couldn’t, I felt guilty. I couldn’t be the one to destroy Lukas' family… but I just didn’t notice that she was the one doing it. My breaking point was when i found out she did coke in front of Lukas on a normal Tuesday morning as we were getting ready to take him to school”
“Oh my god…” you whispered as you reacted.
“Yeah… and I didn't even know it until he asked me, 'What was mommy sniffing, daddy? Does it smell good? Is it a flower? Did you give her flowers?' Those were his words as we walked out of the house hand in hand to the car. That was the end for me." he said, his voice not hiding the discomfort of the memories
“I'm so, so sorry you had to go through that, Cillian. It must have been tough for you and also for Lukas” you said. You tried your best to fill out the silence, but you didn't really know what to say.
The weight of his revelation hung in the air, and you could feel the gravity of the moment.
He took another deep breath, and you continued to run your fingers through his hair, offering a silent reassurance.
"Yeah, I tried to protect Lukas, you know? Shield him from the chaos inside his mom’s head," he continued, his eyes reflecting the turmoil of the past. "But that was a wake-up call. I couldn't let her jeopardize our son's well-being any longer… nor mine. She didn't want help, or at least she didn’t want my help."
The coffee machine signaled its completion, and he poured the steaming liquid into two mugs. The warmth emanating from the freshly brewed coffee filled the air, making you sniff the air enjoying the smell.
As you both settled at the table with your mugs, he glanced at you, gratitude evident in his eyes. "Thanks for listening. It's not easy talking about this, but you make it easy."
You offered a reassuring smile. "I appreciate you sharing, and I'm here for you. Lukas is lucky to have you looking out for him."
He nodded, a mixture of emotions crossing his face. "Yeah, he's my priority."
"So, if you don’t want to answer you don’t have to, but is she still using?" you asked, your concern evident.
"Not that I know of," he shrugged. "I got full custody of Lukas after the divorce. She was only allowed to be with him after proving she was sober for 60 days. But I have this feeling that she will fail at any point and I will have to pick up the pieces or that i won't be there to protect Lukas"
The weight of uncertainty hung in the air as he spoke.
You reached across the table, placing your hand over his, offering a supportive squeeze "You've done everything you can to provide a stable environment for him. Sometimes, all we can do is focus on what's within our control. There is no way of knowing if she will… but we do know Lukas will still have you and your family if she does.” you tried to find the right words
He sighed, appreciating the reassurance. "I just want him to have a normal childhood, you know? To be surrounded by love..."
"Well I don’t know him, but from what I’ve seen you're doing a great job at that," you assured him.
"Thank you," he smiled. "You're an incredible woman, you know that?"
You smiled and stood up from your chair. Moving towards him, you settled onto his lap, taking one of your hands to his face. “So are you… an incredible man, I mean" You both chuckled, the warmth of the moment lingering in the air.
As you gently caressed his cheek, you could feel the tension in his muscles, a manifestation of the concerns that still lingered.
"I know you're worried about Lukas and everything else," you said, your voice soft. " I'm Sorry there's nothing I can do to help "
He nodded, appreciating the sentiment. "You are already helping. Thank you” he smiled
You leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. "Now, we need to get ready for your class. Are you coming? Could be good, keep your mind busy until she calls back" you suggested
"Yeah, of course," he replied, trying to shake off the lingering anxiety.
As you both got ready, Cillian continued to check his phone, the worry etched on his face. You could sense the weight he carried, and in those moments, your support meant more than words could convey.
Heading to the ceramic class, you intertwined your fingers with his, offering a steady presence by his side. You were the first to arrive, as usual. He helped you get the material for the class ready before the other students arrived.
The familiar routine of the class and interacting with students provided a welcome distraction for him. After last week's class he had become friends with one of your elderly students, she’s adorable and just goes on and on about her grandchildren… he loves to listen.
Sile arrived a few minutes later and it was good to see him smile and chuckle with his sister. What would she do if she knew what was going on with him? You wondered.
During the middle of the class, he stood up rushly, taking his phone to his ear as he walked outside.
It must be her calling, you assumed.
After a while, he returned and pulled you to the side, away from the other students.
“I have to go,” he said as you cleaned your hands on a red cloth.
“Is everything ok?” you asked concerned
“Yeah,” he said giving you a reassuring smile “I just have to go pick him up”
“Are you sure everything is ok?” you pushed
“No. I’m not sure. But I talked to him and he’s ok so that’s what matters. His grandmother was with him. She was the one that just called me”
“What about your ex?”
“I don't know. I’ll let you know soon, ok?” you smiled and nodded as he kissed your cheek and left.
“Is everything okay with him?” Sile asked as you walked past her
“Yeah,” you smiled and continued your class normally, not wanting to share anything because you didn’t know if he would appreciate it.
After the class ended you cleaned the studio for the following class. Sile asked you out for lunch today, but today was an awful day to plan anything. On Saturdays, you have one class after the other, and you barely have time to eat. So you suggested another day, and she agreed. You liked the fact that she asked you out, enjoying the fact she would like to get to know you more.
By the end of the day, you had no news of Cillian. You were lying on your couch, comfy pajamas and a pair of old socks kept you warm as you watched a random TV channel.
Staring at the screen of your cell phone again as you waited for him to answer. Worrying about him. Wanting to help him, to be with him.
“Hey! Just checking in. Text me when you can. Hope everything is well. Xoxo” You texted almost four hours ago.
It was getting late, and after waiting for a while you fell asleep on your couch.
You woke up with something vibrating under your head. You uncoordinatedly looked for your phone, as you were still half asleep.
“Hi” you answered not checking who was calling
“Hey, did I wake you?” cillians voice appeared from the other side
“Maybe” you played your head back on top of the cushions
“I’m sorry, I can call you tomorrow. It’s late” he said
“No…” you adjusted yourself and looked at the screen, it was 00:20 “i'm glad you called. I was worried something bad had happened”
“No nothing bad”
“Good” you smiled to yourself
“Lukas is here with me. Sleeping, he had some trouble sleeping today, he was agitated. Had to read him three stories before bed” he said, he sounded tired.
You chuckled “is that a lot?”
“Yeah, he's usually down after one”
“Oh, wow”
“Yeah he's a fast sleeper” he chuckled lightly
“So, do you wanna talk about what happened?” you asked
“Not really. Just… just wanted to hear your voice” he said, making you smile
“That’s sweet”
“Yeah, have to admit it was nice having you here last night. Your presence is missed”
You chuckled “well then you must invite me more often”
“Sure will”
“Well, do you wanna hear about my day?” you asked, assuming it would be just what he needed. To just run from his reality for a minute.
“I would love to”
You went on telling him about your day, about your classes and students. You told him the gossips your students tell you and ended up sending him some pictures of finished pieces you had done. He listened carefully and laughed at some of your student's stories.
After that you both said your goodbyes and wished each other a good night.
Just finished reading Chapter 6 of Ceramic Classes!! First off let me say how nice and awsome I find your writting and it always makes me get super happy when you post.
Second- HOW DARE YOU LEAVE ME ON A CLIFFHANGER! Gonna be thinking about Who called Cillian all day now! Anyway hope your having a lovley day<3
-💌
Hehe…. Thank you for the love! ❤️
Sorry for the cliffhangeeeer. I promise the next chapter will be out this week!!
Summary: after much insistence from his sister, Cillian attends a ceramics class with her. To his surprise, he feels a connection to the teacher, you. Will this connection go any further or will it be smashed like a bad ceramic project?
Previous parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5
Warning: swearing, fluff and Smut
A/n: hey guys! Got a little time to work on my stories. But you should know my computer broke so it’s hard for me to tag people using the app on my phone. As soon as I get it from the store I will add the tag list!
oh and please don’t forget to let me know what you think! Hope you like it.
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After a satisfying round of the Margherita, you and Cillian eagerly anticipated the unique creation you had just placed in the oven.
Cillian retrieved the pizza with a grin, the mischievous spark still dancing in his eyes. He carefully sliced it, and you marveled at the colorful medley of ingredients.
"Here goes nothing," he said, serving you a slice of the unconventional masterpiece as you smiled at him.
You took a bite, and a burst of flavors exploded in your mouth. The combination of Gouda and Brie with artichoke hearts, zucchini, and mushrooms created a symphony of tastes that surprised and delighted your taste buds. You couldn't help but let out a surprised laugh, thoroughly enjoying the culinary adventure.
"This is amazing!" you exclaimed between bites, savoring the unconventional yet delicious combination.
“It sure is” he agreed, surprised while taking another bite and you both continued with a light-hearted conversation.
With both pizzas now devoured, you lingered at the dining table, sipping wine and enjoying the easy conversation that flowed between you, the atmosphere in Cillian's cozy home became even more intimate.
Cillian leaned back in his chair, a contented smile playing on his lips. "I have to admit, this might be the most interesting pizza I've ever had. And the company is even better," he remarked, his eyes locking onto yours.
You chuckled, feeling a warmth spreading through you. "I'm glad we decided to get creative. It gave it a special touch."
Cillian reached across the table, his fingers gently intertwining with yours. "Speaking of special touches," he began, his tone softening, "there's one more thing I have in mind for tonight."
Your curiosity piqued, and you raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell."
Cillian's gaze held a glint of excitement as he stood up, extending a hand toward you. "How about we take this to the living room? I've got a little surprise for you."
Intrigued, you nodded and placed your hand in his, allowing him to lead you to the adjacent living room.
The soft glow of ambient lighting and the inviting warmth of the fireplace welcomed you as you entered the room. Cillian guided you to his cozy leather sofa.
“What are you planning?” you asked, a mischievous smile crossing your cheeks
Cillian chuckled, his eyes filled with playful mystery. "Ah, now that would ruin the surprise, wouldn't it? You'll just have to wait and see. Well, actually no. Can you close your eyes please?"
“Close my eyes?” you asked surprised and he nodded “Jesus you are making me nervous”
“No need” he gave you an adorable smile a gentle peck
“Ah, what the hell” you said and closed your eyes.
“No peeking, eeh?” he warned and you nodded
With your eyes closed, he caressed your cheek and helped you sit on the cold sofa before leaving.
The gentle rustling of fabric and the soft padding of footsteps around you heightened the mystery. Cillian's voice, soothing and warm, broke the silence after some time.
"Okay..." you felt him sitting next to you.
“Can I open them now?” you asked smiling, your eyes still closed
“No,” he said, his tone velvety and his voice way closer than you thought
You felt a lingering touch on your right cheek as he gently tucked a stray of your hair behind your ear. The next thing you felt was his soft and wet lips on your cheek.
“hmm, am I the dessert, Mrs Murphy?” you asked, making him chuckle “I have no problem with that, so you know” You opened one of your eyes slightly, to see his desired smile.
“Close it” he ordered and you did it right away, feeling your body warm up to his tone.
He lightly traced his fingers along your jawline, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. With your eyes closed, you let yourself fully immerse in the moment.
"I've been thinking," Cillian's voice was a soft whisper, "that some moments are meant to be savored, and this... this is one of them."
You couldn't help but smile at the gentle words. His fingers continued their dance, trailing down to your neck, creating a delicate caress that made your breath catch. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a cocoon of warmth and closeness.
Your arousal started to grow, a tingling sensation building up between your legs.
Cillian's lips brushed against your ear, his warm breath sending tingles through you.
“Open your mouth” he whispered
You hesitated for a moment, the unexpected request adding a touch of playful mystery to the atmosphere. Slowly, you complied, parting your lips slightly in anticipation.
Something a bit cold met your lips as you took a bite, surprisingly a burst of flavors exploded in your mouth, sweet and sour, and you couldn't help but let out a soft sound of pleasure.
“Hmmm, that's an unexpected delight," you continued, savoring the lingering sweetness on your taste buds. The combination was like a harmonious melody, leaving you thoroughly enchanted.
Cillian grinned, clearly pleased with your reaction.
"Glad you enjoyed it," he murmured, his voice a gentle caress. You could feel his gaze lingering on you, even with your eyes closed.
“What was that?” You asked opening your eyes and seeing he had a box of beautiful truffles on top of the table
“You weren’t supposed to open your eyes yet,” he said chuckling
“Oh, sorry” You closed your eyes right away, making his chuckle a bit louder.
Surprisingly the next thing you felt was his lips on yours. The taste of the sweet and sour delight still lingered on your lips, blending seamlessly with the newfound warmth of his kiss.
His hand rested on your legs caressing it gently yet eagerly. As he pulled back, you couldn't help but smile, the playfulness of the moment adding to the already enchanting atmosphere.
"I guess this is another surprise?" You smiled and opened your eyes again. this time, Cillian didn't object.
He chuckled, his eyes reflecting a mix of amusement and affection. "Consider it a bonus surprise. Truffles and a stolen kiss."
“Did you make this?” You pointed to the truffles as you inspected the sweets
“Oh, no” he smiled “I bought it” he chuckled “... I don’t really know how to cook anything sweet”
You chuckled at his admission, appreciating his honesty. "Well, buying these truffles was a wonderful choice. They're absolutely divine."
Cillian grinned, looking genuinely pleased. "I'm glad you think so. Sometimes, leaving it to the experts is the way to go."
you reached forward to get another truffle “Was this the one I had?”
He nodded and you took a new one, and it surprised you as the flavor was even better than the one you just had.
Cillian admired you as you took the bite, looking lost on your lips. You smiled and offered him the other half of the truffle. He accepted with a smile as you fed him. The way he looked at you as you shared the sweet seemed to set fire to your body.
Feeling the heat take over, you moved to sit on top of him, both your legs on his sides. Your lips met his desperately.
His hands rested on your waist, encouraging you to move your hips.
“You know, you look so fucking sexy with those pants,” he said, his hands lowering to grab a hold of your asscheeks and pulling you close to his body firmly. His touch felt intoxicating and exhilarating.
“Yeah?” you asked out of breath and he nodded “Want to rip it off of me?”
“Desperately” he answered quickly making you chuckle and bite your underlip
He worked the buttons of your pants before moving on top of you, making you lay your back on the couch. Thanks to the light fabric of your pants, as he ripped it off it slid off your body as if it was made of butter… and that was fucking sexy.
He took off his sweater and moved on top of you, kissing you desperately. Now squeezing your bare asscheeks.
You could feel his bulge in his pants as you pushed yourself against him. You could feel yourself getting so wet for him, wetter and wetter as you rubbed yourself against his groin.
“Fuck…” he started out of breath “Want to move this to my room? Or are you comfortable here?” he asked
“Here, just fuck me right here,” you said out of breath
“Yes ma’am” he smiled and helped you out of your shirt, following to get rid of his pants next.
Once your breasts were free he just firmly grabbed them, kissing and twisting your nipples.
He took your nipple out of his mouth to smile and move his mouth through your abs to your panties.
He wasted no time before getting rid of your underwear and slipped his fingers through your folds.
“Oh shit” you moaned closing your eyes as he slid two of his fingers inside of you. He took your clit to his lips, kissing and sucking at it.
You moved your hands inside his briefs and stroked him with a firm and gentle hand, until he moved his cock out of your hands.
“Fuck, I can't wait anymore. I need you” he said, freeing himself from his briefs and quickly put on a condom
“I’m so fucking wet for you, cill… fuck” you moaned
“Oh, I can tell” he had a cocky smile on his face as he lined himself with your entrance.
He didn't tease you like the last time. No, this time with one confident move, he slid inside of you, filling you completely.
You moaned as he slid in and out of you. The pounding of your bodies making the couch squeak in rhythm.
His speed increased and so did the intensity of his thrusts.
“Oh yes… fuck yes” you moaned, enjoying the intensity but yet, feeling he could do better “Harder” you pleaded “fuck me harder”.
Like magic, his moves increased. His hand grasped around your throat, putting the right amount of pressure before kissing you.
“Rub yourself, y/n. Come for me” he purred in your ear.
Like a good girl, you complied. You took your fingers to your clit and rubbed it, making your orgasm fast approach.
You clenched your walls against his cock as the first spasms of orgasm spread through your womb and outwards. The feeling of your muscles squeezing around him made him shudder and groan.
With a swift movement, he turned your body, making your belly rest against the sofa back, and started fucking you from behind.
With one of his hands, he gathered your hair and wrapped it around his fist like a rope, holding your head back. His other hand was grabbing at your asscheeks firmily, giving it an occasional slap once in awhile
Your moans filled his house and his ears, serving as fuel to his intense thrusts.
He groaned and dragged you up into him by your hair, pulling you close to his body as he pumped a little harder, a little deeper.
You could feel he was close. His breathing was erratic and his thrusts started to lose their rhythm
You whined and pushed back harder on him, hoping to put him on edge. he wrapped his hand around your throat and released the grip on your hair to find your clit.
You moaned approvingly
“You like that, hm?”
“I do, oh… yes I do” you moaned
His moves on your already sensitive clit quickly sent you over the edge. You moaned loudly feeling your body melt into his, glad to have him behind you to support you as this orgasm took away your senses for a second.
You could hear him moaning in your ear as he was also enjoying his release.
As soon as you both got down from your highs, you both settled onto the couch. Nestling against his warm and sweaty body as the room suddenly felt cooler. He embraced you, resting his head on yours.
"Tonight was incredible," he expressed.
"Absolutely," you replied with a smile, snuggling closer to him.
"Want to take a shower?" he offered.
"Oh, I would enjoy that," you agreed.
The two of you reluctantly untangled from your cozy position on the couch and made your way to the bathroom.
Stepping into the warm shower together, the sensation was both refreshing and intimate.
He reached for the shower gel, a mischievous grin on his face."Allow me," he said, pouring a small amount onto his hands.
His touch was gentle as he started to lather the soap over your shoulders, his fingers creating soothing circles.
You couldn't help but giggle at the ticklish sensation. "Easy there, you might turn me on"
He chuckled, his laughter joining yours. "Wouldn't that be a sight?" he kissed your soapy shoulder
"Your turn. Let me return the favor." you said after some time enjoying his touch.
You took the shower gel, and with a grin, you started to lather it over his shoulders. As you did, he let his head down and let a pleasure sigh
"You have a hidden talent for massage," he said, your hands moving in gentle, circular motions.
“People do say I know how to use my hands,” you said and he turned to look at you
“Oh “people” say?” he copied you, his soapy hands holding your waist and pulling you close to him
“Feeling jealous Mister?” you gave him a coy smile.
“Should I?” he asked and you shook your head
“You probably should know… you are the only person I am currently going out with” you said, feeling unsure if you were oversharing.
“Good, me too,” he said with a smile before kissing you, and you felt your heartbeat calmer
As you were both drying up, he looked at his wristwatch and asked, “hey, it’s late. Do you want to sleep over?”
“What time is it?” You asked drying your back
“One in the morning” he answered
“Oh, Jesus. Time flew by” you smiled “don’t you mind if I sleep here?”
“No, I actually would like it if you did” he smiled, the towel was now wrapped around his waist as he got closer to you.
“Ok, can I borrow some clothes?” You asked and he nodded, kissing you.
“Yes, gotta admit I’ve been wanting to see you with one of my shirts” he admired making you smile.
As you got to bed together, you both could keep your hands to yourself and another round of intense sex led to another quick shower before you both fell asleep.
Cillian was a cuddler, that's for sure. He didn't let go of you the entire night. Even though that's not your thing, it felt nice.
You woke up with an annoying ringtone. You shifted in bed and watched Cillian wake up and give you a quick kiss
“Whats that noise?” you asked a bit lost and annoyed
“My landline” he answered, standing up
“People still have that?” you asked covering your face with your hands and he gave a sleepy chuckle
“Go back to sleep, it's early” he said as he left the room.
Looking around you couldn't find your phone and assumed you left it downstairs.
You turned in bed and checked the time on Cill’s alarm and it was almost 8 am. Assuming you went to sleep after 3 am…. You most definitely should continue to sleep, but you had to start your class in an hour so you got up and went downstairs to find Cillian.
He was sitting in the sofa, a hand on his forehead as he nervously looked at his phone.
“Hey… Is everything ok?” you asked approaching him
Hey! At the moment i'm not having much time to write and prioritize my ongoing series... But you can send me your request and i'll work on it when i get a chance!
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