Jan 25, 2025
Cillian Murphy as Raymond Leon IN TIME (2011) dir. Andrew Niccol
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Cillian Murphy as Raymond Leon IN TIME (2011) dir. Andrew Niccol
JUST ANOTHER OF YOUR MISTAKES
Thomas Shelby x Reader
Warnings: angst, swearing, violence, grieving, a lot of pain, eventual fluff, smut
A/N: thanks for reading guys
PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE
~~
Y/N was never a light sleeper, but this particular time waking up felt way more difficult than usual. Her head was hurting from all the crying and the last thing she could remember was Tommy holding her against his chest and the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with his own unique scent before she nodded off, unable to handle the recent events.
“Mrs. Shelby, you're awake” One of the maids spoke up with a gentle smile, putting a steaming tea on the nightstand by her side.
Sitting up, Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.
“I'm not a Shelby” She responded with more annoyance than she'd like.
“Oh” The older woman said with a hint of shame. “My apologies. Mr. Shelby asked to bring you tea and some pain relief tonic,”
Y/N nodded, thanking her quietly before she rose from the bed, looking around. The room looked familiar in a less than pleasurable way, just like the clothes she was wearing. Sighing deeply she walked out of the room, seeing the dark corridor of the places she once called home.
After getting refreshed and dressed, Y/N walked toward the grand staircase. She stopped cold, feeling goosebumps running through her spine in the worst possible way when she saw the monumental portrait of Thomas and her in the stairwell. One she used to see everyday. The eyes on the portrait looked as lively as ever, mocking the pain she held in her chest every time she saw it. There she was, the former lady of the house, laying claim to her domain even from the grave. The longer she stared at her, the more she felt Grace was taunting her. “You may have been his woman once, but I have his heart and his ring on my finger now.” The words rang in her ears, coming from the depths of her memory, loud as the day she heard them for the first time. Y/N couldn't seem to be able to tear her gaze away, silently battling the ghost that seemed to curse her relationship forever.
She stood there for a long moment, immersed in the painting so much that she didn't realise she was being watched.
Thomas stood in the doorway on the other side of the corridor, watching her silently losing the battle as shame gnawed on his insides. He should have thrown it away long ago, but it was the last thing on his mind as he desperately looked for Y/N everywhere. The dead woman on his wall wasn't a big concern.
“You're awake” He spoke up, unable to handle the silence anymore.
She turned around, almost startled, as he caught her staring at her. The first thing she noticed were the glasses on his nose, and she fought against the little smirk that tried to appear on her lips so badly.
“What am I doing here? Where are the boys?” She asked, straight to the point. Thomas shifted from foot to foot awkwardly, knowing she wouldn't be happy with the news.
“Boys are with Frances upstairs, playing.” He responded, looking her in the eyes. “You're not safe outside of Arrow house. You three need to stay here until the vendetta is over.”
“What if you had more men surrounding my flat instead?” Y/N bargained.
“It’s too dangerous and I need my men concentrated not spread out over cities” he replied, already prepared for the questions he knew she'd ask.
She wanted to argue so badly. Y/N wanted to be free from him and the reminders of the past that this house held. But she knew that receiving a black hand was a serious threat she didn’t have the capacity to handle by herself.
“The only reason I'm not leaving right now is because I need to keep them safe.” She said, stepping closer. “...and if anything happens to us, I want you to know that it's all your fault.”
Despite knowing and seeing the pure hatred in her eyes, Thomas could never fully brace himself for the impact of her words.
“Nothing will happen to any of you. I give you my word” He said, quieter this time.
“Your word means nothing to me, Thomas. Just… just stay away from us as much as possible.” Y/N added, wanting to walk away.
“You can't expect me to stay away. They.. are my kids. My sons.” He said suddenly, and the confidence and fierceness of his voice made her stop in her tracks. “I regret losing you every single day. Every day I grieved the loss of my bloody heart, and then I found out there's three I should have been grieving. But you're here, and so are they. So I won't let yo–them go.” He hissed out, almost frantically and the vulnerability in his eyes made her slightly tremble. It hurt even more, because she waited so long to hear.. anything. Any crumb of reassurance would be enough to keep her here, but he didn't say a fucking word.
Straightening her back, Y/N inhaled a deep breath, looking back at the bloody portrait who was witnessing the whole scene. Seconds later she looked at him again, and the fire in his eyes was more lively, outweighing the dead, judgemental stare.
“They won't call you their father. If you break this rule, you won't see us again.”
***
The next day Y/N woke up, bracing herself for another battle as she walked down the stairs and to her surprise, the portrait was… gone. Her heart thumped wildly at the realisation and she couldn't believe her eyes. Suddenly the tension in the house seemed to have lessened.
Walking to the kitchen, she noticed Thomas sitting by the table with a cup of coffee and a cigarette in his hand, as he read the newspaper. It felt weirdly domesticated and the thought alone made her smirk.
“Did the boys eat?” She asked, not sure what to expect.
“Frances fed them an hour ago. Tommy is napping in the living room, and Nick is picking daisies with Mary in the garden.” He responded in a calm tone, not tearing his gaze away from the newspaper.
Silence hung in the air as they each did their own thing
Finishing up her breakfast, Y/N cleared her throat again as she looked at the wall in front of her.
“The portrait is gone” She pointed out in an emotionless voice, not looking at him. A couple longer moments passed before she heard him exhale a cloud of smoke.
“What portrait? He responded, and Y/N’s lips stretched into a subtle smile before she grabbed her plate and walked away.
A couple days later Y/N still avoided him, occasionally getting to talk to John or Arthur, but both of them were distracted by the giant threat hanging over the family. Polly seemed to keep it together the best, coming over whenever she felt like it for some female company.
Y/N said her goodbyes to Polly, going to put the cups into the sink and cleaning the mess after Nick. She wasn't used to having maids doing everything for her, so it was more comfortable to just clean the mess herself. Nick himself was currently spending time with his uncles by the stables, and Tommy was… who knows where.
After cleaning, Y/N went looking for the other boy, asking Frances who just directed her to the little room where the toys were stored.
She expected everything, but not the view she saw arriving in the doorway. Little Tommy sat back on his legs, watching with wide eyes and furiously colouring the different shapes Thomas drew for him.
“Dat?” Tommy asked suspiciously, pointing towards the crooked flower on the paper and glancing at him with big eyes.
“This?” He asked with a grin, “that's a flower” he explained, to which the boy nodded, narrowing his eyes lightly.
“...and dat?!” He asked suddenly in a squeaky tone, seeing the car Thomas drew for him.
“That's a car. Almost” He chuckled, seeing the crooked shapes as he tried his very best.
Tommy nodded, grinning in the same way as his father before glancing at his mum.
“Hi!” He waved, before pointing to the flower again. “fwowa!” he said proudly, pushing his little chest forward.
Thomas just laughed quietly, putting the pencil down.
“Good job, little man” he said, before slowly rising from the floor with a groan.
“Oh God, I'm too old for this” He whispered with a chuckle, glancing at Y/N who wasn't able to suppress the smile on her face after she heard Tommy talk. “Don't smile like that, now it's your turn.” Thomas added, passing by her in the doorway, his shoulder brushing against hers.
***
The next couple weeks were… rougher. Changretta was relentless in his search, which turned into a couple of seriously dangerous situations where John got shot in the chest barely coming out alive. Polly didn't agree with a lot of Thomas' actions, despite his inability to back off right now. He stood his ground, no matter how difficult it was sometimes to keep Y/N inside Arrow house whenever worse moments would arrive. And they did, fairly frequently.
The pull he felt became stronger and stronger, no matter how many daggers she kept throwing. Spewing the words she held deep inside, reminding him of the monster he used to be… or maybe still was? He couldn't tell. The view in the reflection of his mirror was so blurry, that it didn't matter. As long as she saw him to be fit enough to be around boys.
The house was completely quiet as he made his way through the corridor, lacking the usual sounds of kids playing or Y/N walking from one room to the other. Walking past the library, he caught a glimpse of light coming from the room that made him stop in his tracks.
His hands trembled with anxiety. The fear settled in his ribs over three years ago and hasn't left him once, even though they were here.
Thomas was aware of how powerless he was once the vendetta was over. The thought of them leaving the house and never coming back was making his heart squeeze painfully, reminding him of the privilege he once had, but gave it up willingly. The fear was like a loop, tightening around his throat with each passing day as he grew comfortable coming home and seeing them here.
Walking into the library, Thomas was completely quiet, wanting nothing but to see her if it was all he could count on. He was completely unaware of the fact that she always felt his presence. Sometimes letting him stay, and other times making him leave so desperately that made him wonder whether it was possible to day from a broken heart.
Step after step he tried to control his shallow breathing as he finally saw her. Standing by the big shelf, he traced over the backs of books standing there for so long, it felt like they were always there.
“You wouldn't like that one” He spoke up quietly, noticing how she didn't even budge hearing his voice. It took a longer moment before she replied.
“How so?” Her voice was calm, light-hearted as she found herself lost in the countless stories filling up the wooden shelves. The nagging thoughts in his mind disappeared the second he heard her voice.
“Because you don't like uncertainty. It's filled with unanswered questions and has an open ending.” He thought for a moment before replying, well aware of the content of this book, because he read them all. In the moments of despair, trying to hold onto every scrap of feelings in the house so empty, it felt like nobody lived inside.
Sighing deeply, Y/N put the book back in its place, grabbing another one.
“Nobody likes uncertainty, Thomas. Holding onto the moment, unsure of what's to come.” She sighed, hearing his slow footsteps approaching. “A book is just a book. You can close it, and move onto another one anytime. If only life was just as easy.”
Silence in the room caused the whole scenery to become more intimate, unexpectedly even for him. Stopping mere inches behind her, he watched the back of her head for a moment, remembering the nightmares he had every night. Ones where he couldn't reach her, no matter how he tried.
His breath caught in his throat as he slowly raised his hand, moving it closer and closer towards her shoulder. Inches away, he noticed the goosebumps covering her skin. Without looking he reached out to the shelf, grasping onto the book he knew by heart, while his arm brushed against her own.
He stood close, too close, and Y/N knew it too well, yet she couldn't bring herself to make him leave or pull away. The way he trembled as his chest pressed lightly against her back made her stand still.
“You'd love this one” He whispered, not feeling brave enough to speak loudly. The uncertainty they talked about he knew better than anything else.
Her breathing became heavier, feeling him so close, the tingling on her skin she hadn't felt for so long almost made her flinch. Slowly, she turned around facing him.
This, Thomas didn't expect as she suddenly looked up, their eyes meeting in a gaze long forgotten, yet still alive and lively as when they looked for the first time.
“I don't read anymore” She confessed quietly, and his eyes couldn't help but watch her lips intently. The way they wrapped around the words she spoke.
The urge to grab and hold her closer was strong, almost too strong. Tommy tilted his head to the side, getting a better look at her face in the dim light.
“I can read it to you” He offered quietly, as it was the closest she allowed him to… just be near her.
So he waited, scared of ruining the moment as she moved closer. Their noses brushing against each other.
“I wanted you to speak, not read.” The sound of her voice was like the most beautiful music he ever got to listen to, even though the words were far from it. “...but now it's too late, and you're standing too close.” her breath touched his lips, taunting.
…and then she pulled away, leaving him standing there. Slowly making her way out of the library.
“You're cruel” He said, loud enough for Y/N to hear.
***
Y/N opened her eyes suddenly, sitting up as she took a deep breath, desperately trying to blink away the nightmare she had. The clock showed three AM in the morning, and her heart was pounding from the fear she felt. One she rarely felt anymore, feeling as Thomas was taking it over day by day, despite her unwillingness to share anything. Even the broken, ugly parts he ruined.
His cold eyes kept looking at her in the dream, so unfazed by the idea of her absence. The humiliation turned into physical tears rolling down her cheeks as the memories clouded her reasoning.
Getting up from her bed, she remembered the way he touched her. Avoiding her eyes, throwing his head back. Not bothering to bare himself, so eager to take but never give. Forcing her to pour from a completely empty cup.
Her bare feet were cold against the floor as she quickly made her way through the corridor, knowing where she'd find him. Swiftly opening the door to his office, Y/N didn't bother to say a word or wipe her tears away as she quickly walked up, not looking him in the eyes.
“Y/N?” He asked, taking his glasses off and setting them on his desk while she suddenly pulled him back, creating more space to straddle his lap. Tears kept streaming in a smaller amount, but never ending as she ripped his shirt open, baring his chest.
“What are you–” He tried to speak up, but she didn't let him, as she pressed her lips against his so aggressively his breath caught in his throat.
Pulling on his belt she unbuckled it skillfully, a motion she knew too well from all these years ago. The inner pain burned her chest as she kissed and bit him, while pushing his arms away.
“Shut up” She hissed, as the humiliation from the memories took over her mind. The shame of giving and never asking for more. Of being taken and left without any rest. Pulling his pants open she stroked him impatiently, doing just enough to get him going. It wasn't difficult, as he was the only man she ever slept with, knowing his habits and body more than she'd care to admit.
Her nails raked over his throat and chest, ripping a deep groan from his throat.
He didn't dare to ask, feeling and giving everything she wanted to take. Despite the burning, the physical attraction and need she felt was stronger, her arousal glistening and visible as she lined him up with her entrance, not caring enough to be slow or subtle as she sank down on him fully. A subtle moan pushed past her lips as she squeezed her eyes tightly, doing the same thing he used to.
His eyes were wide open, taking the beautiful sight of her on top of him, but the expression on her face made him hurt so badly, he thought he might not survive. He reached out, wanting her to look at him, but she refused, keeping her eyes squeezed tightly as she moved on top of him frantically chasing her release.
“Y/N” He begged quietly, as her hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing to cause pain.
“I hate you. I hate you so much” She whimpered, as his fingers dug into her thighs.
“Please” He whispered, and she let go of his throat, digging her nails into his shoulders.
Thomas wanted to reach out to wipe her tears away, but he knew she wouldn't let him.
So he leaned forward, his forehead pressing against her collarbone when he let out a shaky breath.
“I love you” He whispered weakly, holding her tightly as she haven't stopped moving even for a second, brimming on the edge.
“I hate you. I fucking hate you” She cried out, opening her eyes as she looked down at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were half lidded but he didn't give up, staring and repeating like mantra.
“I love you” kept spilling from his lips as she reached her peak, causing him to follow right after as they reached the release.
His head fell forward, tears escaping his tired eyes as she quickly got off of him, leaving him without a word.
***
Y/N was growing increasingly restless inside of the Arrow House. Her days had been filled with reading and finding activities to keep her sons occupied, which took less time than usual, as Thomas took every opportunity to spend time with them. There was one room she had only been in once prior on this visit. She shuddered at the memory of her desperate conflicted intimacy with Thomas. Y/N knew that room would hold a concentrated form of his presence and essence, even more so after that night. She wasn’t sure if she felt strong enough to enter his sanctum again, but while Thomas was away on business and her boys were having their afternoon nap, the curiosity overcame her hesitation as she entered his space.
It was incredibly… him with deep mahogany furnishings and sumptuous emerald accents. During that night, she had paid no attention to the surroundings in the office - only to him and her inner emotions. Slowly she went deeper into his study, turning on a lamp at his desk. She could picture him here with those round glasses on, absorbed in matters of business both legitimate and less so. To the side of his desk was a small curio cabinet filled with antiquities and presumably family mementos. It hardly garnered a second thought from her until she noticed a figurine on the top shelf next to an old photograph of Thomas and his siblings. It was the figurine.
Before the war, before everything changed, she and Thomas would wander around Birmingham together - young and full of optimism. Both their families were poor and doing their best to survive in the cruel world, but they were the dreamers of their respective clans. He and Y/N often visited a certain shop that sold trinkets and collectables. Y/N yearned to be able to spend money on frivolous little objects like these one day. There was a specific figurine that she longed to own: a porcelain ballerina with graceful fingers and a white and pink lace ruffled skirt. She thought ballerinas were the most fairy-like women that walked the Earth. Of course neither of them could afford such a beautifully crafted figurine, but Y/N swore that one day they would walk in that shop and purchase her ballerina without a second thought to the cost.
That never happened, yet here it was, that same figurine she had seen so many years before sitting in Thomas’ curio cabinet in his most sacred space of his home. She didn’t know what it meant, but she felt tears prick her eyes at the reminder of those beautiful days from their youth. If only they could be like that again. If only the war and the turmoil after it hadn’t soured the tender young love they had known.
“I see you found your way back to my study” Thomas’ deep voice called from the doorway. Y/N was startled. She had been so lost in her memories and feelings that she hadn’t noticed his presence. She shifted awkwardly.
“Yeah, it seems like it.” She responded, glancing towards the curio cabinet. He slowly came up closer, a small grin on his face.
“What did you find?” Thomas asked, tilting his head to the side. Of course he knew what she saw, but wanted to hear it.
“I can’t believe you remembered my ballerina” Y/N said, not meeting his gaze.
“I went back to the shop to get it, but old Mr. Jones said he’d sold it years before. It took some hunting, but I eventually found her. I was hoping to someday show it to you, but… seems like you found her instead.”
“Why?” she questioned him in a small voice.
“Because this is how I remember you. You always said the ballerina was like a fairy or goddess come to Earth, but to me… when I saw that ballerina figure, I saw you.” Y/N’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she glanced back towards the cabinet and then back at the man in front of her. Letting out a deep sigh, she wiped her eyes.
“Why now? Why did it take you so long to… to do this? Anything. I waited so long and… and now it's too late, Thomas.” She said, looking at him with an expression that crushed him. Feeling his breath hitch painfully, he felt his throat tightening. He had grieved over losing her and now that Y/N was physically here, she had never felt more far away from him.
After looking into her eyes for a longer moment, Tommy grabbed her hand, slowly straightening it against his palm while the other one reached to his holster, pulling out his gun. Y/N’s eyes widened, but his gaze remained locked on hers, not faltering.
Finally, he didn't feel the fear. Holding the loaded gun, he slowly shoved it into her smaller hand, aiming it forward before he closed his eyes. Pushing his forehead against the muzzle tightly, keeping her wrist upright.
“Then kill me.” He said out loud, the words hanging in the air for a moment. “Because otherwise I will never let you go, no matter how hard you try.”
Thanks for reading lol bye
@iilovedonnatartt @gentlebeari @narlytude @garrison-girl-08 @chaimaarouaine11 @bruhidkjustwannaread @reiwanwan @immyowndefender @jbrownta @honeymoon8
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Chauffeur
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Raymond Leon x reader
Summary | After enduring your teasing, Raymond finally snaps.
Warnings | Smut, very large age gap (cause he’s like 75 or something lol), brat taming, daddy kink, face fucking, deep throating, in public, teasing, begging, handcuffs, praise, degradation, breeding, creampie, mean Ray lol.
Words | 4.4 k
Notes | Ty for putting up with all my questions about editing @hllywdwhre 😭🫶
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
Kinktober | day 17: handcuffs + in public
Your relationship with Raymond has always been odd. He used to work closely with your dad and you’d see Raymond sometimes when you visited their work. As you got older, your dad was frequently invited to bring his family to events and other boring things that you didn’t care for. But you always went because Raymond almost always had to attend them too.
Before you turned 18, you didn’t really flirt with him. You’d just stare at him with a poorly concealed lovesick expression. But as you got older, you started to gain a little more confidence— also because you finally grew into your body. Your breasts and hips filled out and you knew that, objectively, you were much more attractive than you were a couple years ago.
There was some Timekeeper fundraiser event tonight that you went to with your mom and dad— but you only really went so you’d have a chance to see Raymond. He did his best to ignore you the whole night, but you weren’t deterred.
You watched him walk out of the building and head toward his car, but his steps slowed when he saw you leaning against the driver side door.
“Move.” Was all he said, making you smirk a little.
“Y’know, I got all dolled up for you. You could at least compliment my dress or say I look pretty.” You bit your lip when you watched his gaze drag down your body quickly.
“Get off my car.”
“Or what? Are you gonna arrest me?” You asked rhetorically, only making him more annoyed.
“Or I’ll have your daddy come and get rid of you.” He sneered. Even though you wanted to pout at his response, you could tell what you were doing was working.
“I need a ride home. He said I can leave early, but he can’t drive me because he has to stay.”
“Not my problem. Move.” You stared at him for a moment, accepting the silent challenge.
“Fine.” You said, stepping away from his car. “I’ll just have to ask someone else then.” You saw two somewhat attractive men standing between cars and you started walking over to them. He only let you take four steps before he stopped you.
“Get in.” He snapped, trying to make it clear that he didn’t agree to whatever you had planned, but only to drive you home. You bit back a smirk and rounded his car to get in the passenger seat. The slit in your dress exposed almost your entire leg and when you watched his hand grab the gear shift, you wished you could feel it on your bare thigh instead.
After a few minutes of driving, you broke the silence. “I’ve always liked this car.” You admired the interior a little before your gaze drifted to him. His hands were on the steering wheel, struggling to stay relaxed, and he kept his eyes on the road the entire time. “It’s the perfect size, you know.” He clenched his jaw and for a moment, you almost thought he wouldn’t take the bait.
“I’m sure it is.” He sighed, clearly not genuinely interested and trying to just dismiss you.
“The hood is just the right height and there’s plenty of room in the back, and even in the front too.” By your tone, it was obvious what you were implying, which is why he didn’t respond. “Don’t you agree?”
“It’s for work, so no.” He said plainly.
“Oh come on… Not even once?” If you had such a sexy car you’d be fucking in it all the time. “I could be your first.” You purred, reaching over and placing your hand on his upper thigh. You barely had a chance to start sliding it up before he took your wrist in a bruising grip and wrenched it away.
“Stop it.”
“Why? Scared you’ll finally give in to what we both know you want?”
“No.” He scoffed. “You’re a child.”
“My clock starts in less than a year.” Your petulant tone definitely didn’t help your case… He let go of your arm to put his hand back on the wheel and you tried not to pout.
“Exactly.” You stared at him, already formulating a plan in your head, then looked out the window. There were hardly any buildings here because you lived on the edge of town, and it was already dark out. So you took off your bracelet, then rolled down the window. “What are you doing?” He sighed. You ignored him and threw the bracelet out the window, making him all but roll his eyes.
“Pull over.”
“No,”
“I have to go back and get it! Daddy got me it for my birthday.”
He let out a heavy breath and you heard him mumble something that sounded like, “Such a fucking brat.” Then he was slowing down and pulling over. He parked the car and looked at you expectantly.
“Can you go get it please? It’s cold out and my feet hurt from wearing these heels all night.” You pouted, but his face remained expressionless.
“No.”
“Then you have to come with me. It’s not safe out this late as a young woman.”
“This is New Greenwich,”
“Sexual assault is still a thing, Raymond. A very common thing. Especially for 24 year old women wearing impractical heels, late at night on the side of an empty road.” You didn’t wait for his response and got out of the car, smirking when you heard his door open and close.
You struggled to walk on the gravel as you hugged your body, trying to keep warm. Even though your dress was ankle length, the slit barely covered the bottom half of your legs, and your arms and chest were completely exposed.
After a few minutes, you saw something sparkling on the ground under the dim street light and you picked it up, holding it out for him to see with a proud smile on your face.
“Let’s go.” He said impatiently. You huffed, but started walking back to the car, putting your bracelet back on.
On the way back, you were trying to figure out the best way to play this and you realized that after he got back in the car, your chances of success would probably diminish by a lot. So when he walked to the left side of the car, you followed, pulling on his leather jacket to turn him around before he could open the door. You gently pushed him back a step so he was pressed against the car, then slowly dragged your hands down his stomach.
“Let me thank you properly for driving me home.” You said suggestively, looking up at him through your lashes. His hand shot up to grab your neck and you let out a gasp that turned into a moan when he suddenly turned you around and switched places with you. He slammed you against the car and you bit your lip, savoring the feeling of his big hand wrapped tightly around your neck.
“Can I tell you a secret, Raymond?” You asked innocently, making him tighten his grip, warning you, but you just took it as encouragement. “All those toys I bought…” his grip got even tighter and you couldn’t help but smirk, “all those guys I’ve dated… I was practicing for you, and trust me, I’ve learned a lot.” When you placed your hand on his lower stomach and reached for his belt, he used his free hand to pull you away. So you just used your other hand.
“Stop.” He growled.
“Or what?” He stared at you for a while and you struggled to maintain eye contact with how intense his gaze was. Eventually, he let go of you completely and reached behind himself. Your brows raised when he pulled out his hand cuffs, but you weren’t complaining. You let him move your hands behind your back and cuff them together, trying not to moan at how close he was when he leaned in to reach behind you. “Now what?” You smirked, watching him carefully.
When he took a step back, you tried not to frown, but your efforts were useless when he pulled you away from the car and then opened the door.
“Get in.”
“No.” You snapped.
“Get in. Now.” He ordered, clearly losing what little patience he had.
“No!” Your tone was only getting brattier and he clenched his jaw, staring at you with narrowed eyes. After a moment, you dropped to your knees in front of him, trying not to wince at how horrible the gravel felt below you. He scoffed a little and looked away, shaking his head in disbelief. When he finally looked back down at you, his gaze was significantly darker.
“This is what you want?” He scoffed, slamming the door shut. “To be used on the side of the road like a cheap whore?”
“As long as it’s with you.”
“I’m sick of you acting like a tease.” He growled before roughly fisting your hair, making you hiss in pain.
“Then do something about it.” You dared. He clenched his jaw and let out a restrained breath of anger through his nose. Your eyes dragged down his body until you reached the bulge right in front of your face, and you practically started drooling at just the thought of getting to finally see it. When your eyes snapped back up to meet his gaze, his grip tightened on your hair the slightest bit. “Fuck me. My mouth— Any way you want.” You begged, chest heaving. You wanted him to use all of you.
“I’m older than your father.” He scoffed, but you could see that he was starting to break.
“Should I call you daddy then?” You asked teasingly. You definitely wouldn’t mind calling him that though…
A car suddenly drove by, catching both of your attention. You blushed a little, but you weren’t deterred— honestly being this out in the open just made it hotter.
“Fuck me, Raymond.” You said again, trying not to whine. “However you want— I just need you.” He swallowed thickly and looked away for a brief moment. When he eventually released you and reached for his pants, you tried not to grin.
He finally pulled out his cock and your lips parted as you stared at it in awe. Your breathing even picked up and you swallowed audibly, unable to look away. He was just so big. Not even overly long— he was about average in that department— but you could already tell you were going to have to put in a little more effort than normal to actually take it.
“Let’s see if you can put that mouth of yours to good use for once.” You knew he was insulting you, but it just encouraged you to try as hard as you could to impress him and gain his praise. His hand wrapped around his length and pumped slowly a few times before holding it in place, waiting for you to finally start.
You eagerly dove forward and lapped up the bead of precum, then wrapped your lips around the tip with a low moan. You started out slow, suckling on the head, occasionally moving up and down a tiny bit. When he released his cock to grab your hair, you knew he was getting tired of the teasing already. So you took a deep breath through your nose and went all the way down, breaching your throat barrier so your lips were wrapped around the base. He grunted in surprise and tightened his grip on your hair, not controlling your movements yet.
Just before you were about to gag, you pulled back and moved up and down on the top half of his cock for a moment. You felt a light pressure on the back of your head, so you took him in your throat again. This time though, he held you in place. You breathed deeply through your nose, focusing on repressing your gag reflex, but it almost seemed like he was trying to get you to gag.
Eventually, he yanked you off and you panted, trying to catch your breath, but he quickly got impatient and guided you back onto his cock. He fucked you slowly, groaning when you looked up at him through your lashes. You did your best to keep your tongue pressed against the underside and your cheeks hollowed.
He cursed under his breath and his lips parted slightly as he breathed heavily, starting to get a little desperate. Pulling you all the way down, he held you in place and groaned quietly again. It was when he started rocking his hips, slowly fucking your throat with shallow thrusts, that you finally gagged.
“Good girl… Take it.” You squeezed your eyes shut and your hands jerked behind you, instinctively trying to reach up and push him away. He waited a few seconds, then finally let you pull back just enough to take in a ragged breath around the tip, then he was pushing back in. He began steadily fucking your throat, starting with it halfway inside and bottoming out with each thrust.
Tears were brimming in your eyes, and spit was rolling down your chin and his balls, adding to the already obscene display. When you started struggling in his hold, desperate for a break from the constant assault on your gag reflex and to get air in your lungs, he just stepped forward. The motion moved you back until you were mostly sitting on your heels rather than kneeling. Then he held your head firmly against the car door and started bucking his hips.
“Take it, little slut. You wanted it— fucking take it.” He growled, grabbing both sides of your head in a bruising grip so you couldn’t turn away.
Suddenly pushing in all the way and staying there, you gagged again, but that went ignored by him as he nudged your legs apart to press the bottom of his boot firmly against your cunt. You let out a choked sound at the stimulation, eager for more. In response, his hips snapped forward, making your head lightly hit the car door. He started fucking your throat again and you couldn’t help but grind against his boot, moaning around his length as you gagged and sputtered, tears streaming down your cheeks.
“Look at you,” he scoffed, but he sounded more amused this time, “humping my boot like a bitch in heat while I fuck your face on the side of the road.” He chuckled, making you whine, the sound coming out garbled as he pushed in your throat again.
He pulled out suddenly and you coughed, then started panting— borderline hyperventilating. When he stepped back, you whined at the loss of friction on your clit, but he just grabbed your bicep and lifted you to your feet, then turned you around and pushed your torso down onto the hood. It really was the perfect height…
“Raymond, can we at least go to the side of the car that doesn’t have a clear view from the street?” Your voice was hoarse from the rough treatment of your throat, but you enjoyed the reminder of what you finally earned after begging for so long.
He hiked up your dress until it was bunched around your waist, then landed a sharp smack on your ass, startling you.
“Call me what you did when you were being a fucking tease.” He ordered, pulling your lace panties down to your upper thighs. You blushed and bit your lip, getting hit with a wave of embarrassment. Was he just saying this to humiliate you or was he actually into it? He spanked you again, harder this time, and you yelped in surprise. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“I’m sorry…” you whined quietly, feeling like your face was on fire, “daddy.” You muttered, making him spank you again.
“What was that?”
“Daddy! God- please fuck me already!” You cried, jutting your hips back toward him.
“Good girl.” He murmured, gently kicking your feet apart. When he roughly squeezed the globes of your ass, then pulled them open for a better view of your holes, you whined again. “You’re practically leaking down your thighs.” He scoffed, then spit on your cunt, both things furthering your embarrassment— and your arousal.
You were going to beg again, but you went completely stiff and silent in anticipation instead when he dragged the head of his cock through your slick folds. He teased you at first, lining up at your entrance and slowly pushing forward without fully pushing into you yet. When you tried to move backwards onto his length, he grabbed your hip tightly to still the movement.
After a couple seconds, he added more pressure until your walls finally yielded to the intrusion. Your breath caught in your throat and you let out a choked moan, hearing him grunt quietly behind you.
“Fuck, you’re tight.” He gritted, squeezing your hip hard enough to make you wince.
The stretch stung a little bit, but any discomfort was easy to ignore when you focused on the fact that Raymond was finally fucking you. After so long, you were finally getting what you wanted— and it felt better than you imagined.
You mewled and arched your back as you tried pushing your hips toward him again, needing more.
“Fuck— it feels so good.” You whimpered, closing your eyes and letting your head drop down a little, stopping before you actually touched the car. He finally bottomed out and your legs were already quivering beneath you, struggling to hold up your weight.
You could hear another car drive by and you knew that anyone who saw this would know exactly what was happening, but you didn’t care.
Raymond slowly dragged his hips back and moved both hands to grope your ass, roughly pulling you open to watch your pussy greedily trying to suck his cock back in. One thrust and it was already glistening with your arousal. He pushed back in just as slow, forcing you to feel every inch of his length splitting you open.
“Good girl… Take it.” He gruffed. When the praise made you clamp down on his cock, he let out a quiet grunt and squeezed your ass harder, digging his nails into your flesh.
His thrusts steadily sped up until the last bit of his restraint finally disappeared and years worth of pent up frustration and lust were the only things left in its wake.
Raymond moved his hands to grip your hips as he snapped into you relentlessly, making you all but scream. Your pelvis was digging into the car almost painfully, your knees ached and were probably scraped and bleeding a little from the gravel, and your wrists were sore from tugging on the metal handcuffs, but all of it was just adding to your arousal.
He was bucking into you fast and hard, no doubt mostly chasing his own pleasure. You desperately wanted to rub your clit— eager for your much needed orgasm. When you realized you couldn’t, you let out a choked sob and jerked your arms in the cuffs, trying to free yourself.
“Feeling a bit needy, princess?” He cooed mockingly and you let out another pathetic sob.
“Daddy, please.” You whined, just desperate enough to lack the shame that would keep you from calling him that.
“You want me to make you come?” You couldn’t tell if he was still mocking you, so you nodded hesitantly. “I’m not sure you deserve it after being such a shameless little slut.”
“Please! I’m sorry, daddy.” You cried out, tears of desperation brimming in your eyes. It felt like your clit was practically throbbing, aching for some relief.
“No you’re not.” He said amusedly, making you whine. “After tonight, you’re going to continue being a fucking tease— showing off those tits, making those comments that drive me fucking crazy…” He growled, fucking you harder out of spite.
“Daddy…” You whimpered once you realized that you probably weren’t going to get what you wanted.
“Shh… Keep being a good little girl and I’ll consider making you come tonight.” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice when he said it. Despite the pleasure and desperation running through your body, his phrasing wasn't lost on you; he'd said ‘tonight’… as though there were going to be other nights to make you come.
He grabbed your wrists and the cuffs in one hand to use as leverage when he sped up even more. He was almost pulling you back with each thrust, lifting your chest off the car and letting you drop back down every time he pulled.
After a few seconds though, he suddenly dragged you upright and wrapped one arm around your stomach while the other teased your inner thighs. He never stopped fucking you and the change in position had his cock hitting a new spot inside you, making your knees buckle.
“Please…” You whimpered, chest heaving. His fingers brushed over your clit lightly and you sobbed out a moan, trying to buck your hips forward to get more of his touch. He started rubbing slow circles over your clit and your mouth dropped open in a silent moan as your head fell back against his shoulder. You mewled and shuddered, feeling your legs get even weaker. In this position, you could hear his heavy breathing and his quiet sounds, and they were sending you barrelling toward your orgasm.
“Please make me come,” you whined, struggling to breathe properly. “God— I’m so close.” You sobbed.
“Please, daddy! I’m so close!” You cried, making him shush you softly.
“Don’t be a brat.” His tone barely sounded stern or reprimanding, and instead came out more amused than anything else.
“Please.” You whimpered, bottom lip quivering as you fought back tears of desperation. “I- I promise I’ll be good.” You choked out, hoping that would be enough for him to finally stop teasing you. “Just— please… I wanna come on your cock.” You sobbed pathetically.
Raymond let out a low, almost feral growl at your words, his arm tightening around your body possessively. “You think you can be a good girl?”
“Yes! Please, daddy— I promise!” You cried, even though you didn’t quite believe yourself… But that would be a problem for another day.
“Fine. But if it turns out you’re lying, you won’t get anything more than my boot next time.” You nodded frantically before he could even finish speaking. After giving you a warning, his fingers finally pressed down harder on your clit and started rubbing faster. You were practically drooling as your head lolled back on his leather clad shoulder, your legs quivering and struggling to hold yourself up as you rapidly approached your orgasm.
You let out an almost pornographic moan as you finally fell over the edge, making his thrusts falter when your walls clamped down on his cock like a vice.
“Good girl…” He gruffed, tightening his grip around your body when your knees started to buckle even more. Your legs were trembling from the pleasure and your back arched away from him, pushing your hips toward his even more.
He waited for your orgasm to finally finish before forcing you back down onto the hood, holding you in place with a hand on the back of your neck. You cried out when his pace increased significantly, his thrusts becoming more frantic as he neared his own release.
“Come inside me.” You said through gasping breaths, your pussy tightening around his length at the thought.
“No, I- I need to pull out.” He said weakly. You extended your arms even more, blindly trying to grab onto his clothes so he couldn’t move away.
“I can just take something after. Please don’t pull out…” You sobbed, the idea of that sounding almost agonizing in your fucked out state. He cursed under his breath, but continued fucking you. “Please, daddy! Want you to fill me up.” You moaned loudly.
“Fuck… Fuck— fine.” He hissed, soothing you with his acquiescence.
“Thank you.” You gasped out, then whined, “God- I want it so bad…” You could already imagine it… the way it would leak down your thighs and make such a mess of you. Fuck— you needed it more than anything.
His hips stuttered before he buried his cock to the hilt with a low grunt, finally coming. His cock twitched inside you, spurting out ropes of hot come all over your walls and your cervix, and for a brief moment, you entertained the thought of having his baby— of turning him into a real daddy. Even though you didn’t actually want it and you knew there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever be okay with it, the fantasy still reignited that spark of arousal in your stomach.
His hips sporadically bucked into you, trying to bury his length even deeper. You could faintly hear quiet grunts and moans until his sounds faded into heavy breathing, his movements slowing to a stop. He stayed still for a moment, but he snaked his hand down your back, from the nape of your neck to your ass, making you shiver. His other hand joined and he spread you open for one last look at your cunt wrapped tightly around his cock.
He slowly dragged his hips back until his cock slipped free from your hole with a wet squelch. He continued holding you open, but he moved his thumb closer to circle your gaping hole.
“Push it out.” He ordered gruffly. You whined, but obeyed, and he let out a low groan at the sight of his come trickling out of your puffy cunt, rolling down your clit. “Good girl…” He used his thumb to push his seed back in, then quickly pulled your panties back up.
You felt him taking off the handcuffs, then he was gently pulling you up and turning you around to face him. His hand cupped your cheek with a tenderness that surprised you, but you didn’t comment on it, deciding to savor it instead.
“Satisfied?” He asked sarcastically, making the corners of your lips curl up a little.
“Unfortunately, no.” His expression was mostly neutral, but you could see the amusement in his eyes. “Can I suck you off the rest of the drive home?”
He scoffed a laugh and shook his head a little in disbelief. “Your throat isn’t sore already?”
“I told you I practiced, remember?” He rolled his eyes, but you saw the way his lips twitched before he masked his amusement with indifference.
“Fine. But only because it’ll actually shut you up.”
They put some sort of spell on Cillian’s american characters cause they’re all scrumptious
Masterlist of my fave fics
To show love for other writers and to keep track of creations I've enjoyed 🥰
For now, at least, they are all Cillian Murphy and characters he has played. A mix of series, one-shots, and drabbles.
You can see a masterlist of my own works here
Cillian Murphy
Anything You Need by @lau219
Smoke and Light by @kikimurphys
You Know I Want Bad Things by @kikimurphys
Lockdown Sessions by @cillmequick
Illicit Affairs by @cillianhead
Tommy Shelby
Runaway Girl by @brummiereader
Through the Keyhole by @kinkyniragi
Truth or Dare by @kinkyniragi
The Downton Blinders (Downton Abbey crossover) by @tommyshelby87
Modern Tommy Shelby
Enemies With Benefits by @lau219
Neil Lewis
Out of Frame by @youthereader
Movie Date by @mothhball
Take the Plunge! by @mothhball
Jackson Rippner
Lesson Learned by @lau219
Robert Fischer
After Hours by @lau219
Raymond Leon
Thirty Seconds Away by @jtargaryen18
Bill Furlong
The Weight of Kindness by @youthereader
Steve
Where Wild Bluebells Grow by @cillmequick
Trauma by @anarchyyone
The Keeping Place by @youthereader
Jim (The Delinquent Season)
Saving All My Love for You by @jtargaryen18
Chris O'Doyle
Something Akin to Affection by @lau219
Mike Kiernan
The Right Woman by @lau219
cards against Cillian
Been working on this for a while, because I was so busy the last few months. I thought about doing this, just because the game is standing around in my home, so why not try this out. Just let me know if yall like it and if I should continue that
he looks like if a man and a woman had a baby
One of the facts that originally endeared Cillian Murphy the most to me was his life-long love of the Beatles. He once said of them: “The Beatles are my, kind of, musical touchstone..I think they probably represent, in my mind, one of the greatest artistic achievements of the 20th century. Not just musically, but in terms of their humor and their sort of friendship and their tolerance." The Beatles have played such an incredible role in my own life, both creatively and personally, so I thought that this year to celebrate Cillian's 49th birthday, I'd write thirteen one shots starring a variety of characters Cillian has played over the years. Each story will be inspired by a song from each of the Beatles' thirteen albums, starting with Please Please Me and ending with Let It Be. I will post one a week for thirteen weeks. To Cillian, I borrow the words of Sir Paul McCartney when I say: Happy Birthday to you.
WEEK ONE: Please Please Me: Jackson Rippner, Please Please Me
WEEK TWO: With the Beatles: Tom (The Party), Money (That's What I Want)
WEEK THREE: A Hard Day’s Night: Robert Fischer, Can't Buy Me Love
WEEK FOUR: Beatles For Sale: Thomas Shelby, Baby's in Black
WEEK FIVE: Help!: ?
WEEK SIX: Rubber Soul: ?
WEEK SEVEN: Revolver: ?
WEEK EIGHT: Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club: ?
WEEK NINE: Magical Mystery Tour: ?
WEEK TEN: The White Album (The Beatles): ?
WEEK ELEVEN: Yellow Submarine: ?
WEEK TWELVE: Abbey Road: ?
WEEK THIRTEEN: Let It Be: ?