Latest Posts by vervainandspritz - Page 6

WICKED GAMES

Summary: Jackson had one task, to protect her while her house wasn't a safe place anymore, not after her fiancé got them in trouble with the wrong people. How is it going to work out with her combativeness and Jackson's feisty approach? The story begins when things get slightly out of control.

Word count: 4.6k

A/N: There will be part two

Rushing to “my” room, I couldn't even sob properly. Even breathing was a struggle after the situation that took place just a mere hour ago. Not to mention the conversation that followed, and hurtful words from my fiancé.

The only person who was supposed to be always on my side.

The whole situation turned on me, and yet, he had absolutely no interest in listening to a word coming from my mouth. I could still hear Harry's raised voice, hushed by a quieter tone coming from Jackson as he said something that I couldn't really hear. Fury was filling me head to toe at the lack of understanding. At the whole fucking situation that Jackson, basically, put me in. Getting into bed, I hid my face in a pillow, finally able to sob quietly. Ringing silence followed by a sudden, dramatic slam of the front door.

“Don't cry” Low, husky voice echoed throughout the hall, as Jackson's steps grew closer to my room.

I didn't even have the strength to get up and push him off the bed after he decided to sit down next to me.

“He doesn't want me anymore, he won't marry me.” I said quietly, my head turning to look at his face. Resentment growing at the memory of every detail of the conversation with my fiancé.

“Harry doesn't think like that, he just… got carried away, yeah? Got a little angry.” Jackson was convinced, trying to make it all sound better, but he was clearly lacking skills on how to cheer someone up. My blood boiled.

“Angry?” I sat up abruptly. “I was the one who almost got sexually assaulted and he didn't even bother to hug me or take me home.” I growled, my eyes becoming teary once again.

He licked his lips out of habit, I noticed. I had made a pretty strong argument, so he thought for a moment.

After a long minute Jackson sighed deeply, his brows furrowed and eyes focused on the floor in front of him. Suddenly he took off his jacket and threw it on the dresser.

“I'm mad at you too.” I said, sniffling in the meantime and wiping my nose. “For leaving me, and it's not the first time. You were supposed to protect me.” My voice grew shaky as I spoke the truth. We both knew it was right.

Jackson looked at me without emotion. Then he looked down at his fingers.

“I had no choice.” He eventually said, straightening his back, running a hand through his thick hair.

“You could have told me you were going with your goblin girlfriend, then I wouldn't have gone.” My eyes locked onto his face, I could see the twitching of his eye. He was clearly uncomfortable, but so was I and it was all his fault anyway. “Do you know how I felt when you just followed after her, and left me alone?” My tone grew sharper, accusatory.

“I'm not proud of what I did.” He admitted, clearing his throat beforehand. Jackson's body heat was slightly distracting. The warmth from him was highly appreciated, even if I wouldn't admit it. I pulled my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them.

"--and that's fine, I hate you with all my heart." My lower lip trembled. “I wanted to be friends with you, I tried to make our time more pleasant, I even fed you when your girlfriend simply refused to do so, and you know what? I've learned that it's better to be a cold bitch or you'll get your ass kicked like I did. Like I always do.” After my words, silence filled the room for a longer moment. I thought that maybe they landed right, but then he spoke up again.

“That's not true, you don't hate me.” Jackson stated. Like he was stating something obvious, looking at me emotionlessly. I got even more angry that THAT was the only thing he caught.

“I do hate you,” I growled, grabbing him by the collar. Jackson was clearly surprised, and I clenched my jaw. “I wish you would suffer like I did.”

It was the first time in my life that I was this close to him. He looked down at me without breaking eye contact.

“You didn't even admit to him that it was all your fault.” I shook my head with anger, fingers tightening around the material.

“If I did, he would have immediately packed and taken you back to England.” His voice was hoarse, blue steely eyes still locked on my face, not daring to create more distance between us.

“Good.” I perked up. “That's what I would have wanted.”

“But I wouldn’t. I don't.” He said out of the blue.

To add to my confusion, Jackson's hands landed on my ass, pulling me towards him. My pelvis touched his chest and I didn't know what was so irrationally fucked up about that, that I couldn't get a word out...or push him away, for that matter. I just stared with wide eyes at his moving lips.

“I am aware that it's all my fault and I really don't know how to repay you. I regret it.” His voice was confident, eyes empty and hands firm on my body. My breath quickened and I had no idea what to make out of it.

“Grabbing my ass is not the best move.” My voice was dripping with sarcasm and brows furrowed in surprise before he spoke up again, shutting me up.

“You like it, I can see it in your eyes.”

…and then something very important occurred to me. At first I ignored it because I thought every woman was prone to it, but no. I pulled myself out of his grip and sat down next to him.

“Harry was right, I really do deserve to be called a whore.” I chuckled, shaking my head lightly.

Jackson’s fingers only dug deeper into my hips as he cleared his throat.

“I’d tell you something, but wouldn't want to spoil your wedding plans.” He responded with a thin layer of mockery, looking at me without blinking even.

“I know about his fleeting affair with his secretary.” I cut him off, sighing deeply. “It was a long time ago, I forgave him.” Shame burnt in my face as I said it out loud, hearing how stupidly it sounded.

Jackson hummed, just nodded and took a deeper breath.

“I assume you didn't have any,”

“Exactly.” I looked at him with regret. “So what if I sometimes wear a dress that's too short and nothing else? I'll be a whore anyway, Harry said that himself.”

He put his arm around me completely by surprise. I raised my eyebrows at him, taking advantage of the fact that I had the material of his shirt close to my face. Without missing a beat, I pressed my nose against it.

“Did you just rub yourself in my shirt?” His voice echoed throughout the room suddenly. Tone annoyed, pierced with amusement. My head tilted up, eyes locking with his own.

“I'm a mess and I could really beat you up if you start complaining about my snot on your shirt.” I spoke in a quiet yet threatening voice, which made Jackson shake his head lightly.

“It's disgusting and unhygienic.”

Couldn't care less, I thought before moving away slowly. Suddenly I gasped, swinging my legs. I was looking at the color of my nails when something came to mind. It just came to me out of the blue, I knew that if I didn't ask him now, I never would.

Turning around I moved closer, facing him. Jackson's brows were raised at my sudden body language change, but my mind was set on getting answers.

“I'll ask you straight out, have you ever spied on me? Like.. in the bathroom?” My cheeks turned bright red as words started slipping off my tongue.

And it was such a casual question, I thought he would immediately deny it and get it over with, but he didn't say anything for too long. I looked at him instinctively to see his smile.

“I always do.”

I blinked a couple times, his words not really registering in my head. Was he mocking?

“Don't make fun of me, I really saw you” I huffed with annoyance. Jackson was unfazed, still smiling and looking me in the eyes carelessly.

“Because I was actually standing there.”

I took a deep breath not believing him. He was lying like always, I knew him... or at least I thought so.

“You are a fucking prude, you certainly wouldn't do something that your lady wouldn't like.” My voice was full of mockery and amusement, but my brain was still in shock at his behaviour and words.

Jackson slowly began to unbutton his shirt. He didn't look at me, as if I wasn't even there.

“What are you doing?” I muttered as he removed it completely.

“When you undress in front of me, you don't make a problem out of it.” Jackson replied, not looking at me as he casually started stripping like it was an everyday thing. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“Nobody said I was making an issue out of it.” Doing my best for my voice to come out unfazed, I couldn't help the low, hoarse edge to it.

“So you won't be offended if I take off my pants as well?”

I scratched the back of my neck at his.. question.

“If you're going to do this.” I sighed, pointing at the standing figure, now almost naked. “What's your point in doing this anyway?”

Jackson shrugged. His wider, athletic, firm body now on display. I did my best to keep my eyes on an appropriate level.

“I'm hot.”

I nodded, glaring at him. He sat down next to me and loosened his boxers at the crotch. It was the second time I noticed it, but I didn't look into it.

“You know.” I paused for a moment, thinking. “I’m hot too.”

I didn't know what was driving me when I simply took off my blouse. I was cold, but I was doing something that completely contradicted my reason. Then I took a seat on the left side of the bed and burrowed under the blanket.

“I think you should go now.” I murmured from beneath the cover. I could hear him clearing his throat as Jackson's blue eyes followed every single move of my body.

“Why?”

“Because it's inappropriate.”

He didn't move quickly. It took me a moment to see his massive back as he headed for the exit.

“Good night." he said before closing the door behind him.

Good night, what's wrong with him?

~~~

“Do you think pretending to be contrite will get his attention? Don't be ridiculous, I'll destroy you if you do something I don't like.”

“Jackson” I growled, turning the screen brighter so he could see. He looked at me from the kitchen “I want you to see something.”

I shoved my phone under his nose. He frowned as he read the first message I got when I got home from the hospital, and the second one this morning. Reading it, Jack sighed.

“I'll talk to her” Turning around he went back to making himself food. I sat there, dumbfounded and annoyed with his lack of reaction. After several weeks spent together he could be a little more empathetic.

“And that's it? You won't even react appropriately?”

Swiftly turning around once again, he crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow.

“How am I supposed to react?” The tone of his voice mocking more than anything else. I took a deep breath, smiling wryly at him.

“You could at least say she's a bitch and you'll deal with her.”

He looked at me, irritated.

“She's my girlfriend, it would probably be inappropriate.” I snorted, and shot right back, unable to hold back.

“But taking your pants off next to me wasn't?”

Jackson tensed so I could see it landed well, but he chose to ignore me, making me sigh.

“Don't blame me for the fact that your wedding plans are slowly disappearing.” Came from his lips suddenly.

I felt a lump in my throat.

“They are not. I called Harry today.” My voice was weaker than a couple seconds ago, but I spoke up with confidence. Jackson suddenly snorted, throwing the dirty fork into the sink and turning to face me as he leaned on the counter.

“How so?” I raised my eyebrows at the.. weird tone of voice he had asking this question. Accusatory almost.

I looked down, putting my phone in my pocket.

“His mother answered, and then—” I paused for a moment, wondering if I really wanted to tell him this. “—it occurred to me that I might want to postpone the wedding. I regretted getting that fucking phone back.”

He ran a hand through his hair before folding his arms across his chest.

“This is probably a matter between you and Harry, I shouldn't get involved.”

I looked him in the eyes for a second, nodding lightly.

*Yeah, you're right.” I shook my head. “I just wanted to tell you to do something about this fucking message and I'm also worried about whether the contract was signed. Was it?”

“Yes, I quickly signed it that evening.” He replied with an unreadable expression. I thought for a moment, his words ringing in my head. Quickly.

“Are you aware that you may have agreed to something inappropriate? Have you read it?” I asked quietly, knowing how silly it sounded to him as he's probably done thousands of such deals before. To my surprise, he shook his head.

“Of course not. You know, I'm a human and I actually felt sorry for you.” he pouted. “That's why I came here in the first place. To check on you.”

I had no idea whether his words were true, but the lighthearted approach was annoying nevertheless.

“I don't need you to feel sorry for me. As you can see I'm doing fine.” I snapped back, straightening my back and narrowing my eyes at him.

I leaned back in the chair, not knowing why I was still standing there. I had planned to leave him, but I wanted him to make me food as well, but obviously, he wouldn't agree so I didn't even bother asking. Although it didn't look like it would happen, he only put scrambled eggs on one plate.

“Would you like to go out today?” Jackson asked suddenly in a normal, genuine voice as he sat down in his seat, grabbing the cutlery. I licked my lips, feeling hungry.

“I'm not in the mood.” I murmured back, my eyes fixated on his breakfast.

“I was thinking about a… club, actually. I need to drink.”

I raised my eyebrows in surprise as I took a clean fork out of the set and sat down next to him.

“You, my dear? Aren't you too good for a club and drinking?” I asked with a grin, getting a bite of his food.

He looked at me strangely as I simply scooped up a piece of egg and popped it into my mouth.

“Um, from now on, you make breakfast.” I muttered with a mouthful of his scrambled eggs. Looking at me, he sighed.

“You should have told me earlier, I would have cooked a double portion.” I chuckled.

“You have plenty of it, we'll both get full, for sure.” I waved my hand as I started eating, reaching for the rye bread. Rippner didn't make any movement at first, but later - seeing my full mouth - he slowly started eating. And I even shared the bread with him, he took a slice from me quite distrustfully, which made me roll my eyes.

Well, that was progress. We ate from one plate, two weeks ago he would have thrown me down the stairs for that. “Actually” I started, leaning against the back of the chair, stroking my round belly. “I could go with you. Unless your goblin steps in again, then I promise you that I'll cut off your balls and you'll never fuck again.”

“She's not supposed to know anything about it,” He stood up, carrying the dirty plate away. I gasped dramatically.

“Are you going to spite her again? What if she doesn't let you eat like the last time?” Jackson rolled his eyes at my words, taking a gulp of water from the glass.

“I came to the conclusion that I also need something.. fresher.”

My eyes widened at the sound of his words. Fresher? What the fuck could it mean coming from HIS mouth?

“What do you mean?” I frowned. Jack shrugged with a barely visible grin, raising his eyebrows.

“I've known her all my life, I don't know what it's like to have another girl.”

I exhaled with relief.

“You finally saw the light.” I sighed, raising my hands high, towards the heavens. “I'm proud of you.” My words were nothing but mockery and jokes, but Jackson just rolled his eyes.

Once again I noticed him loosening his pants at the crotch and mumbling something to me as he went away. I just shrugged wondering what I was going to wear to the club.

When I got ready, I wondered if I was doing the right thing by going there. Last night, I was almost assaulted but I tried not to think about it, and… trust him again this one time, as I left the apartment with Rippner. We arrived a few minutes later but not without my groaning again because of the loud music. After a few drinks, Jack clearly relaxed, and after a second order, I managed to drag him out onto the dance floor. He was a little tipsy, I was a little more, but we didn't spare each other insults when I'd accidentally step on his polished shoes.

It was after two AM when we decided to finally leave. A taxi took us to the apartment building, and then we went to the apartment.

“Damn heels, my feet hurt, do yours too?” I asked, doing my best to stay upright.

“Mhm” he mumbled back, not looking at me. I grimaced as I walked straight after Jackson across the tiles. I grabbed the back of his shirt as he climbed the stairs.

“Will you carry me?”

“No” I groaned with despair.

“You were supposed to say ‘mhm”

He didn't expect me to jump clumsily on his back, almost hitting my head against the wall. Luckily Jackson caught me just in time and, sighing heavily, carried me to the bedroom. I sprawled on the bed, mumbling strangely as my bones began to creak.

Only after a second I realised that Jackson was still standing in the doorway. Swaying on his feet slightly, he breathed deeply while looking at me.

“Don't puke in my room” I warned with a chuckle, but he didn't respond. The silence caused me to glance at him, and breath got stuck in my throat.

“Mhm” he murmured, taking his shirt off slowly. Jackson's eyes were half lidded, and I could see him looking.

“What are you doing? You're hot again?”

My words hung in the air that thickened so much, I could barely breathe. His drunken gaze was even more intense than usual. Jackson tilted his head to the side, grazing over my body.

“No,” he replied, taking a step forward. “Just calculating how much longer I can stand not fucking you.”

Breathless gasp pushed past my lips at his words, as I slowly sat up higher, suddenly feeling naked under his predatory gaze. I didn't even respond, just shaking my head slowly as our eyes locked onto each other. I slowly got on my shaky legs, taking a step back.

“We can't, Jack” I repeated, even though my face was already burning hot. I didn't know whether I loved, or hated the way he became now. So… intense. I was losing my mind.

“A-and Harry…” As soon as I started, I heard a huff coming from him before he pushed me against a wall.

His eyes were dark with anger, lust and the dark, heavy desire he felt at the moment. Without missing a beat he took a step forward, pushing my body at the wall as his lips crushed mine. Jackson's hands found their way to my shoulders, pressing harder against the hard surface as his tongue pushed past my lips, finding my own. I didn't get a chance to even think for a moment before kissing him back, hands gripping onto his muscular shoulders, movements so shaky and frantic that I almost couldn't breathe.

”I don't want to hear it.” Jackson breathed out as we parted for a moment, looking deep into his eyes I could see a reflection of my own. Dark, full of lust and need. “You want it, and I want it. So we'll have it.” He groaned, leaning down and biting on my neck hard, making me groan out loud. He gladly took the opportunity, lifting me up, and pushed me back onto the bed.

“You don't even love him.” He purred into my ear, rough hands travelling down my body, touching every inch of my hot skin before I could even process him being so close.

“Shut up” I hissed back, my nails digging deeper into his shoulder to cause some pain.

His hot, firm body pressing against my own with full weight, pushing further into the soft bed. I couldn't help but let out a sigh, feeling it, hands falling off his shoulders and spreading flat on the warm surface, attempting to find some release in the fire smouldering beneath my skin. His eyes were just as sharp from a little distance, more.. dangerous. Cutting into the skin, leaving open wounds that would keep bleeding unless he'd decide to smooth them out with his rough palms.

Jackson pulled my leathery pants down, panties ending up as a piece of material on the floor impossible to wear in the state they were in. Ripped to pieces.

”You don't look at him like that” His voice coming much lower, booming right into my ear, accompanied by the sound of his pants shuffling, zipper coming undone. Blood in my ears was so loud, I almost couldn't hear my own breath. It felt like an out of body experience.

My left hand moved into his hair again, tugging on the strands and making him lean down even more. His masculine, heavy scent was all I felt, surrounding my senses forcefully and relentlessly..

”You’re ruining everything. You.. you don't even know.” I stuttered out, breathing heavily, struggling to stay as he started leaving wet kisses on my skin. His possessive hands grabbing and groping every piece of skin he could get a hold of. A low chuckle followed by a laugh left his lips.

”Shhhhh” He cooed, while one of his hands lined up his hard, throbbing manhood with my entrance. His red tip rubbing against the wet folds, making me cringe from the pleasure I felt. ”That's what you need, isn't it? Should have come to me sooner.” Jack chuckled, his hips pushing forward with a sudden thrust, filling me up to the brim.

”Fuck!” I yelled out in a muffled voice. The fullness ripping a cry out of my throat. As soon as he started moving, my brain felt foggy. The way his girthy cock stretched me wide, moving back and forth and grinding at all the right spots made me feel vulnerable and unable to fight him longer. My head fell back onto his shoulder, little whimpers and cries leaving my mouth as my hands kept holding onto his hair and neck.

”That's a good girl. Be a good girl for me.” Jack whispered with a grin, the pace of his thrusts becoming more animalistic with each passing second.

”Jackson please!” I whimpered as another thrust went right up to my cervix, the big tip of his cock slamming against it. The pain and pleasure mixing into a foreign combination.. one too addicting to let go. Practically hammering the tip of his cock into my wet, warm heat was overwhelming. Not a single thought going through my head. Jackson's hands groping and squeezing every inch of my body he could reach, his lips and tongue licking on the small, bleeding wound he created on the side of my neck, Bruising and soothing at the same time, whispering sweet nothings into my ear. Complete opposite of how rough he was.

One of his hands sneaked down, skilfully squeezing my breasts in the meantime, heading down the smooth skin until he'd reach my mound. Wet pussy getting pierced with every thrust, and his fingers pressed onto my clit indelicately, rubbing circles at a brutal pace.

”Come for me.” His demanding voice filled my ears, followed by the sensation of his tongue driving me crazy, licking and marking the skin on my neck. Jackson's hair fell forward a little, brushing against my sensitive skin with every thrust while he held my body firmly against the wall, preventing my legs from giving out. Subconsciously my shaky hands clamped on his neck, long nails digging into the skin on his throat and ripping a loud moan out of his mouth while his cock throbbed viciously inside me. ”Oh my god!” I groaned in a shaky voice, when the sound of his moan pushed me over the edge. The sudden orgasm that I single handedly has never been able to achieve with other men went through my body like lightning. Shocking every cell and paralysing me completely for a good moment but Jackson kept overstimulating me further, thrusting relentlessly into my pussy even though it was squeezing him like a vice. Tears started going down my face at the impossibly painful and pleasurable sensation and he watched, looking into my eyes with a barely visible grin. Not letting go and holding tight for several moments before I went completely brainless, on the mercy of him and his big cock stretching me so well.

”That's it” Jackson hissed, quickly pulling out and grabbing a fist of my hair, I hissed as my scalp burned when he pushed me down on my knees suddenly. His cock just centimetres away from my lips while his face twisted into strong pleasure, blue eyes falling shut while Jack kept stroking his dick at a crazy pace. After a couple seconds finally, thick ropes of cum shot out from his tip, landing on my face. His facial expression and the way he stroked himself looked like a scene from the best porno, and I couldn't help but moan as his essence hit my skin. My jaw just fell slack open. Catching some of his cum I wasn't thinking, mind still foggy after this heated and sudden encounter.

He kept pumping until there was nothing coming out anymore. My face covered, eyes staring blank on his face. Jackson sighed deeply, letting go of his still hard manhood, using his own shirt as a towel before running a hand through his hair. Crouching down in front of me he pushed a stray lock of hair away from my face before grabbing my jaw.

“Much better. So pretty.” He purred, petting my red cheek for a moment before pulling me up on my feet, and back into bed, wrapping his arm around my waist.

“Oh my god” I eventually said, after the realisation settled and my brain started working. Aching between my legs present like never before.

“Quiet, woman. Some people want to sleep” He groaned with annoyance, and I couldn't believe he was the same man who just railed me into oblivion.

Lauren, that was INSANELY good! I absolutely love when Rippner is MEAN😈 The story is smooth, Y/N is spicy and everything goes together really well. Great job 👏🏻

Lesson Learned

•• Jackson Rippner x Reader ••

***!!!Warnings: mature sexual content, CNC, demeaning language, verbal abuse, condescension, harassment, mild choking, injury/harm, minors DNI, 18+ readers only!!!***

…………………………………………………………………………….

Standing back in the kitchen, Y/N turned and looked through the pass-through window as she heard the ring of the bell above the entrance.

“Oh, fuck,” she muttered under her breath as she saw him come through the door.

This was the last thing she needed right now, having to deal with him. She’d had the longest day of the longest week she could ever remember, her feet and back were killing her, and she just wanted to go home. But it was only 2:00 pm, and she still had over six hours left on her shift.

“Your favorite patron’s here,” Angie teased her as she saw Y/N trying to hide back in the kitchen.

“Please, please will you handle him this time? I’m begging you, Angie,” Y/N said. “Just this once.”

“Sorry, hun, you drew the short straw when he first started coming in here. You have to deal with him.”

“That was ages ago!” Y/N practically shrieked. “When are you guys gonna let me off the hook?!”

Angie grinned.

“Maybe when he actually starts tipping,” she said. “Which’ll be more likely the faster you get out there, you know.”

“The day he leaves a tip, or even shows the tiniest hint of being a decent human being, will be declared a modern day miracle,” Y/N replied. What she didn’t realize was that she was running her fingers through her hair and adjusting her breasts in her bra as she spoke.

Angie gave her a quizzical brow as she watched her and then responded.

“For someone who hates him so much, you’re going through an awful lot of trouble to gussy yourself up,” she said.

Y/N immediately dropped her hands from her chest.

“What?! No, I’m not!”

“Then your hair and your tits somehow just primped themselves,” Angie smirked with sarcasm.

“Whatever,” Y/N said, rolling her eyes and tightening the apron around her waist. “You and everyone else here can go to hell.”

“Admit it, you secretly like him,” said Angie.

“I like him better than I like you right now,” Y/N countered, “although it’s a pretty close call. You both can kiss my ass.”

“I think he’d probably take you up on that,” Angie smirked again. “You two just need to fuck already and get it over with.”

“I’m walking away now,” Y/N said flippantly over her shoulder as she headed out of the kitchen, Angie laughing behind her.

Walking through the swinging door, Y/N stopped behind the counter and watched him. She was still slightly hidden by the coffee pot station, and she observed with narrowed eyes as he took his wallet out of his back pocket and placed it on the table before taking a seat. He always sat in the same booth, and ever since the very first time he’d come in, she’d had to wait on him.

At first, she’d won the opportunity, having beaten all the other women at a game of rock, paper, scissors. When he’d first come in, they were all climbing over each other to serve him, everyone noticing how good looking and sexy he was. But Y/N had won, and a huge smile was plastered on her face as she made her way over to him. But by the end of his meal, however, her smile was barely hanging on.

The guy was a cocky, condescending, sexist asshole, and he’d soon revealed this within his first few visits. At first, Y/N had thought he was just trying to be funny, or maybe that he was a bit chauvinistic, but just trying to appear smooth. However, after his visits became at least twice a week frequencies, they’d all come to learn he was just an asshole.

After all the other waitresses had taken a turn serving him, they decided that another round of rock, paper, scissors would determine who’d have to deal with him from there on out, and just as fantastically as she’d won the first time around, Y/N had conversely epically lost the second time. She was convinced she was cursed.

Taking a deep breath and grabbing the coffee pot (he always had a cup of coffee), she stepped out from behind the counter and begrudgingly made her way over to his booth, her heart rate increasing slightly, which she convinced herself was because she was already annoyed with him.

Jackson was casually reclined in the booth, sitting back like he owned the place, with a bored and slightly irritated expression on his face. He didn’t have to look around or call any attention to himself; he knew she’d be there in a matter of minutes, and he drummed his fingers on the back of the booth as he waited. And then, as always, he could smell her before he saw her, the enticing, floral, feminine notes of her perfume preceding her, which he always tried to ignore but somehow never could. Unconsciously, he paused drumming his fingers to lift his hand to his head and brush his fingers through his hair before then reaching down and quickly straightening his blazer.

Taking a final deep breath, Y/N approached his table and tried to ignore how sexy he looked as she stopped in front of him. Without bothering to greet him in any way, she simply reached out and grabbed the overturned coffee mug in front of him, flipping it upright and then filling it up. After she finished, she steeled herself and then finally looked at him, raising her brows expectantly, but her expression still of exhausted irritation.

“What do you want?” she asked him with as much enthusiasm as one would have for picking up dog shit. In fact, she’d rather have been doing that right then instead of serving him.

“Paying customers deserve more courtesy than that,” Jackson said to her, his condescending smirk appearing immediately, his blue eyes shining with self-satisfaction.

“Tipping customers deserve courtesy,” Y/N countered with a challenging tilt of her head, “but you deserve something I’m not allowed to say while on the clock.”

Smirking, Jackson arched a brow at her.

“In a bad mood today, sunshine?” he said mockingly.

“I wasn’t until you walked in,” she replied.

“Then I’ve done my job,” Jackson smirked again.

She narrowed her eyes at him then, shoving the coffee mug back towards him with intentionally too much force, causing the hot brown liquid to slosh over the rim and splatter across the tabletop. He could wipe it up himself if he didn’t like the mess, she thought to herself.

“You’ve got ten seconds to tell me what you want, otherwise your plate will contain whatever shit is clogged in the grease trap behind the fryer,” she said to him.

“At least then we’d know you were actually doing your job and cleaning the kitchen. After all, it’s clear your talents are limited to diner-related tasks.” Jackson briefly looked down then and gestured to the coffee she’d spilled on the table before he continued. “Although, clearly, basic competency and coordination aren’t your strong suits, so hopefully that grease trap isn’t too complicated for you.”

At that, Y/N felt about ready to rage slap him.

“Maybe one of the other gals around here can show you how to properly handle women’s work. Then you’d be good for something.”

Her blood boiling, Y/N looked down at him and spoke through gritted teeth.

“What do you want?” she demanded again slowly.

Goddamn her boss for not allowing her to ever refuse him service. Back when Jackson had first started coming there, she’d asked Stu, the owner, if they could tell Jackson that he wasn’t welcome back again. But Stu was nearly as much of a sexist ass as Jackson was, and along with not caring how Jackson made Y/N feel, he also only saw dollar signs.

“A paying customer is a paying customer,” he’d replied, and then he’d ended the conversation.

Sure, Y/N could have made Jackson’s experiences there unfavorable in the hopes that he wouldn’t return, but she’d already done that (and continued to do it), and unfortunately, it hadn’t deterred him. It almost seemed like Jackson got some kind of sick pleasure from tormenting her, and no matter how much lip she gave back to him, how unpleasant she acted, and how much she insulted him, he still kept coming back.

Of course, there was the other resort of spitting in his food or violating it in some way, but no matter how much Jackson tormented her, Y/N couldn’t bring herself to do that. It was too disgusting, not to mention Stu would fire her on the spot if he ever caught her spitting in a customer’s food or purposefully wasting it by intentionally cooking it poorly. And although she was unaware, Jackson had been watching her for long enough to know that she never did anything like that, so he never had to worry about if she'd fucked with his food.

Still waiting for him to reply, Y/N continued to glare at Jackson, and he smirked in amusement at having done such a good job of pissing her off. And now, he thought, why not get her in a little trouble?

“You know, I’m feeling so off put and unwelcome by your attitude that I’d like to speak to your manager,” he said then. “I feel it’s only right he knows what kind of treatment you’re displaying to patrons.”

“Sorry, he’s not here; you just missed him…Jack.”

Y/N smiled to herself as she saw Jackson’s smirk immediately falter. For whatever reason, he hated being called “Jack” instead of “Jackson”, and she guessed it was from a childhood of bullying due to his last name.

She’d discovered it long ago, after his first few visits. Initially, he'd paid with cash those times, but one day, he'd handed her plastic, and when running his debit card through the register, she thanked him for his business after handing him his card, and he’d quickly corrected her.

“Well, thanks for stopping in again,” she’d said. “Have a good night, Jack.”

His face grew dark.

“It’s Jackson,” he said back to her. “Don’t ever call me Jack.”

Then he was out the door before Y/N could say anything more. Puzzled, she looked down absentmindedly at the receipt printing out of the credit card reader, and when she looked at the print, her eyes landed on his last name, and she realized she hadn't made the connection initially.

Rippner. There was her answer; she immediately caught the joke.

Ever since then, she’d occasionally call him Jack just to piss him off, but she hadn’t said it in months. And he called her every condescending pet name in the books, never having actually called her her name. In fact, she wasn’t sure if he even knew her actual name.

But he knew her name, alright. He knew everything about her. Everything.

He knew she’d been a waitress there for three years now, that she was single and lived alone in a one-bedroom apartment, that she baked chocolate chip cookies and called her parents every Sunday night, that she used strawberry scented body wash, and a million other things about her. He’d seen her do everything and knew her daily routines and all her behaviors, including the fact that she masturbated once a week, working at herself with the sexiest little pouts and expressions scrunching up her beautiful face as whiny, desperate little moans escaped her mouth.

He made it a point never to miss watching her when she did that, and he’d never gotten away without a raging hard-on. As he’d follow it up with jerking himself off to what he’d just seen, he’d always come hard with the sound of her moans still echoing in his ears and her pouty face imprinted in his vision as his cum would release with the force of a bullet leaving a gun. He always needed two tissues to clean up from her, and he was never sure if he felt more angry or more satisfied after he finished. After all, he resented the fact that she had the hold on him that she unknowingly did. The one time a different waitress had had to serve him because Y/N had apparently called out sick, Jackson had got up from the booth and left without another word, and then angrily gone home, once again unsure whether he was angrier with her for daring to not be there or himself for being so bothered by her absence.

As Jackson glared up at her after she’d called him Jack, she smiled smugly, despite simultaneously thinking that he looked even sexier when he was angry. And as she noticed in her peripheral how he clenched his fists, she found herself wondering how those hands of his would feel squeezing her thighs or pulling her hair, or how skillful his fingers could be working inside her. As much as she hated to admit it, it was thoughts like those that ran through her mind as she’d bring herself to climax on top of her duvet, and then afterwards, she’d be disgusted with herself for getting off to a man who was such a condescending piece of shit.

As her luck would have it, Stu appeared from the back office just then, revealing that he was in fact still there. Upon seeing him, Jackson’s glare turned into an evil smile, and he spoke again.

“Guess it’s my lucky day; looks like he came back. So, do me a favor and send him over here, otherwise I’ll have to get him myself, and we both know that if I have to do that, you’ll be in even more trouble.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes again, her self-control hanging on by a severely frayed thread.

“If you’re so unhappy with my service, why don’t you just leave?” she asked him. It was the same question she asked him nearly every time he was there.

“Someone’s gotta teach you how to do your job right, sweetheart. I’m doing you a favor and letting you practice on me, although, as usual, you’re failing miserably.”

“I swear to God, Rippner…”

“Are you gonna send him over, or should we just give him your two weeks notice right now?”

Glaring at him again, Y/N spoke a final time before turning away to get Stu. She couldn't afford to lose this job.

“There’s a very special place in hell for people like you,” she said to him lowly, but Jackson just gave her that cunty grin.

As she walked away, his eyes uncontrollably lowered to her ass, and he was immediately reminded of her panties. He knew which ones she’d put on today, and he felt his cock twitch as he thought about the lace-edged cotton and ripping it off her hips.

Y/N watched from behind the counter with her arms crossed over her chest as Jackson spoke to Stu, Jackson pretending to be a perfectly pleasant customer. She could see the phony smile and hear the friendlier tone of voice he'd used the first couple times he'd come in and she'd served him. She almost laughed to herself as she thought about how wrong she'd been when she initially thought he was charming.

After several minutes, Stu turned and walked back over to her, and just before he spoke, Y/N caught the smug smile Jackson was shooting her over Stu's shoulder.

"He just told me that you refused to offer him a menu and that you intentionally spilled coffee all over the table and told him he could clean it up himself, and then that you told him he should get out," Stu was looking at her sternly, Y/N not responding. "I don't care that he's a regular or how many times you've served him, you don't get smart with paying customers like that. Do you hear me?"

"Stu, the guy's playing you," Y/N replied with exasperation. "He's a total asshole. He's just pretending to be nice to get me in trouble."

"Well, if you treated him the way he says you did, then you're lucky I don't fire you right now."

"Stu! He harasses me every time he's here!"

"I don't wanna hear it," Stu held up a hand and stopped her. "Now, I want you to go back over there and apologize to him, and then you're gonna stay after your shift tonight and mop the floors."

"What?! No way!" Y/N cried.

"Well, then you can walk out of here right now just like you told him to do," was Stu's careless reply. "But your name won't be on the schedule anymore."

Internally seething, Y/N took a deep breath and uncrossed her arms.

"Fine," she gritted out.

Stepping out from behind the counter again, Y/N slowly walked towards Jackson's table, holding his eyes and glaring at him the entire time she approached. God damn those eyes of his.

"Hi there," Jackson said with that phony smile as she stopped in front of him. "Feeling a little more chipper now, are we?"

At the sight of his infuriating (gorgeous) smile, Y/N clenched her fists at her sides, and when she opened her mouth, he cut her off.

"Just remember, you owe me an apology, sweetheart, so think very carefully about what you're going to say, unless you want me to talk to your boss again."

But just after Jackson said that, they both turned to look as Stu called out to no one in particular that he was leaving to go to the bank, then he pushed open the door, the bell ringing above it as he exited.

Now her turn to sport a smug smile, Y/N looked back at Jackson and then spoke. This was her chance, and after the week she’d had and the way Jackson had just gotten her in trouble, she decided to finally stoop to his level.

“Looks like your luck has run out,” she said.

Then, before Jackson could respond, Y/N reached out and grabbed the mug of coffee she’d poured for him earlier and lifted it from the table. She grinned even wider as their eyes locked again, and then, after a second’s pause, she tipped the mug in her hand as she held it above him, pouring the hot coffee into his lap and relishing the look on his face as it hit his body and drenched his clothes.

“Fuck!” Jackson shouted the second he felt the hot liquid hit him, and he jumped to get up from the booth, but the entire contents of the mug had already soaked him. Fortunately, it had cooled slightly since when Y/N had first poured it, but it was still very hot, and his entire front was stained and soaked.

“Fuck!” Jackson shouted again as he stepped out of the booth, Y/N watching him with a smugly triumphant smirk. She stepped back a couple feet and had crossed her arms over her chest, continuing to smile as she heard a mix of whispers and sniggers coming from the other patrons and the servers who’d just witnessed what had happened.

After looking down at himself and shaking the dripping liquid from his clothes and hands, Jackson looked up at Y/N with a heated glare.

“You should really be more careful, Jack,” she said after their eyes had met. “Coffee’s hot.”

Narrowing his eyes at her, Jackson still stood there, his clothes still dripping.

“And it looks like it’s time for my break, so I’m not gonna be able to help you clean up,” she continued.

As she said that, Y/N pulled out the towel that was tucked into the waistband of her apron and lifted it between her fingers, tauntingly dangling it in the air.

“Sorry, Jack,” she finished then. “You take care now.”

And with that, Y/N whipped around and walked away, swinging the towel around in the air as she moved and disappearing through the kitchen door as the smug smile remained on her face.

Her smug little smile wouldn’t stay on her face for long, Jackson immediately decided as he huffed out an angry breath. Glaring after her once more, he then walked towards the entrance and stormed out the door, the bell above it sounding out its signature ring as he did.

•.•.•.•.•

As she finished putting the last of the chairs on top of the tables, Y/N briefly looked out the window into the street.

The occasional group of people walked by on the sidewalk, making their way to the local bars as the rest of the daytime businesses they passed had long since shut their doors.

It was dark out now, and the diner had officially closed two hours ago. But as an addition to her punishment of staying after her shift to mop the floors, Stu had designated Y/N as the server who had to wait out the last diners. So rather than running back home for a short break, or sitting in the back and having a quick bite to eat, she'd had to stay up front and finish serving and then cleaning up after the final straggling customers while everyone else had been allowed to go home. At this point, she'd been there longer than twelve hours, and once the customers had finally left and she'd locked the door, she'd then had to take all their plates and cutlery back to the kitchen and wash them by hand before finally being able to put up the chairs and prepare to mop.

Dispensing a glass of soda for herself from the fountain, she momentarily took a break as she sipped on it before then sitting at one of the counter stools and briefly sliding off her shoes. Flexing and pointing her toes as she felt the relief of finally sitting down, she then rolled her neck and stretched her back before reaching for her glass again.

When the diner was like this — empty, quiet, and now only lit up by the lights of the fountain and coffee machines, kitchen lamps, and dessert cooler, it was almost serene. With the exception of tonight, she usually enjoyed closing up by herself because she could relish in the quiet and people watch out the window for a while. But tonight, she was still here because of him, and she almost wished he was there so that she could drench him again as she'd throw her soda in his face, the arrogant, cocky bastard. So unbearably infuriating and sexist and annoying and menacing and hot....no, not hot. Not sexy and somehow still arousing, even though she hated his guts. Of course not.

Stop it, Y/N, she thought to herself. Why are you still thinking about him like that? You hate him. He doesn't turn you on; he infuriates you. You don't enjoy the hint of something sinister that he gives off every time he looks at you with those eyes. You don't want to know what it would feel like to have him forcefully pin you down with one hand as he reached into your panties with the other. That's not what you think about when you get yourself off.

It was the hardest she'd ever tried to deny every thought to herself, and as usual, it wasn't very effective. But she did what she always did and forced herself to think about something else as she slipped her shoes back on and stood from the stool. Untying her apron from her waist, she mindlessly dropped it down onto the countertop and then headed towards the back to retrieve the mop and bucket.

Reaching for the cleaning solution, she uncapped the bottle and poured the measured amount into the bucket before then turning on the spigot beside the floor drain and filling the bucket with water. As the water loudly flowed from the line, she could almost swear she heard the ring of the bell above the entry door sounding from up front, but she knew it was just a phantom sound. It happened often when she was alone, similar to the thought that she'd heard her phone ringing while she was in the shower, only to look at it upon getting out and seeing she had no missed calls. Besides, it was impossible — she'd locked the door behind the last customers. She'd made sure of it, as she wanted to get on with the cleaning and mopping as quickly as possible without the risk of someone else walking in and begging for a quick bite.

Once the bucket was full enough, she sunk the mop inside it and then pushed it out to the main area, struggling, as usual, due to the bum wheel the stupid thing had on it. Looking down in order to try and maneuver the bucket where she wanted it to go, she pushed it back behind the counter to start there first. But as as she nearly had it where she wanted it, it rolled awkwardly, causing a small wave of water to slosh over the edge and create an instant puddle around her feet.

"Shit!" she said in frustration as she released the mop handle, and she reached into her back pocket for the rag that she'd tucked there to keep under her feet as she moved throughout the room. Instead using it to sop up the puddle, she bent over and wiped at it, pieces of her hair falling in her face as she did so.

When she'd absorbed as much as she was able to with the rag — which wasn't a lot — she stood back up and tossed it through the kitchen pass-through, hearing it land somewhere on the floor behind her with a wet plop. She then wiped her hands on her jeans and then lifted them to smooth her hair out of her face, and it was when she then turned around and lifted her head that she immediately screamed and jumped backwards, the shock of seeing him sitting at one of the counter stools enough to nearly give her a heart attack.

"Holy fuck!" she cried out as she clutched her chest, the pounding of her heart was still rushing through her ears.

"Evening, sunshine," Jackson said to her with the biggest smirk on his face.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" she practically shouted as she looked at him, completely caught off guard. "Where the hell did you come from?! How the fuck did you get in here?!"

Jackson just kept smiling.

"Door was open," he said as he watched her with amusement. "You really ought to lock it when you're here all alone, you know."

No, there was no way it had been unlocked; she distinctly remembered locking it. She shook her head.

"Look, I don't know how you got in here, but if you don't get out right now, I'm calling the cops," she said to him.

"Oh really?" Jackson mocked her as their eyes remained locked. "And tell me how you're going to do that without this."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out her phone, holding it out enough to reveal it but not within a reachable distance for Y/N to grab it, or even try. She narrowed her eyes as she remained braced against the back counter.

"How the hell did you get in here?" she asked him again.

"Like I said, the door was unlocked."

"No, it wasn't," she responded with a shake of her head.

"Doesn't matter," Jackson said as he slipped her phone back in his pocket and leaned forward across the counter. "What matters is that I never got my lunch this afternoon, which means you still owe me a meal, which I have every intention of getting out of you."

"Come back during business hours," she said, silently trying to remember if her keys were under the counter where she usually left them, or still in her purse somewhere in the office. She could make it to her car by going out the back door if she had to. But as she suddenly remembered tossing them in her purse when she'd punched in that morning, she mentally cursed.

"No, now works better for me," Jackson responded. "This way, it's nice and quiet, and I get your full, undivided attention. After all, you still owe me that apology, too. I wanna hear loud and clear as you tell me how sorry you are."

As he said that, Y/N’s heart began pounding even faster. The look in his eyes was making her feel some bizarre combination of terrified and thrilled, and although the logical part of her brain told her she shouldn't challenge him, that she should just somehow get out of there and find a way to call the police, the part of her that wanted to piss him off even further won out.

"The last thing you'll ever get from me is an apology, Jack," she said tauntingly as she straightened herself from the counter. Her eyes were fixed on him with intensity. "So I hate to tell you, but you wasted your time coming here, Jack. And if you don't get out right now, Jack, you're gonna get a repeat of what I did to you this afternoon. Jack."

As she'd been speaking, he'd risen from his stool, staring her down with equal intensity across the counter. With each utterance of his name, his anger grew, matched to the same level with bitter arousal as she spat out his name from that pretty little mouth.

"As simple-minded as we both know you are, I hope for your sake you know when to shut up," came Jackson's response, his voice low with anger. "You're on wafer-thin ice, sunshine."

As she registered his words, she was vaguely aware of the skip of her heart and the tickle of wetness that had suddenly formed in her panties, but she was equally as angry.

"I said get out," she growled at him, but Jackson remained where he stood.

"Tell me you're sorry," he replied.

"Never."

"Last chance."

"Fuck you."

At that, Jackson shifted, and the movement startled her so much that, instinctively, Y/N reached out and picked up the glass of soda she'd been drinking, which was still sitting on the counter between them. Without another thought, she thrusted it forward, throwing the contents at Jackson and once again drenching his front as the liquid flew from the glass.

As he registered what she'd just done, there was a moment of tense silence between them as Jackson looked down and processed his current state. Y/N was momentarily frozen in her spot as she watched him, but as soon as he slowly lifted his head again and looked at her, her heart began to race. The fury in Jackson's eyes unmistakable, there was a brief second of insane tension between them, and then, something snapped, and, dropping the glass, Y/N took off.

Hurling himself over the counter, Jackson reached for her as she dashed away, but he narrowly missed her, and Y/N tore out from behind the counter, darting over the mop bucket as Jackson now stood behind the counter, too. He dashed forward after her, kicking the mop bucket out of the way as she jumped over the remains of the puddle still left on the floor. She'd made it out from behind the counter and then ran for the front door, but in a second, she felt herself slipping, her left foot having landed in another puddle left by the mop bucket, apparently having sloshed more water than she realized when she'd been maneuvering it behind the counter.

She shrieked as she slipped, her left foot sliding and her knee going down as her legs split beneath her and then she hit the floor. She could hear Jackson behind her, and just as she tried to pull her left leg forward and hurriedly get back on her feet, Jackson reached her and bent down, grabbing her ankle and pulling her back, her torso sliding across the floor, and she shrieked again.

Her heart pounding, Y/N rotated her ankle in Jackson's grasp and rolled her body, turning over onto her back as he continued to grip her ankle. She heard him grunting in his efforts to keep his hold on her as she then thrashed around, and when he looked down at her and their eyes met, she gave a final violent shake of her leg, causing his grip on her to slip from her ankle.

His hand was now on the heel of her shoe instead, and Y/N wrenched her leg out of his grasp, her foot slipping from her shoe, which Jackson still held in his hand as she then pulled away. She seized the moment of him being briefly thrown by the loss of his hold on her, and she rolled onto her stomach once again before then pushing herself up and scrambling to her feet, once again running for the front door.

Jackson was right behind her, having quickly recovered from losing his grip on her as she pulled her foot from her shoe. As she got to her feet again, he reached for her once more, but he slipped in the same puddle she had, and he stumbled as she ran for the front door. He managed to remain upright, however, and upon regaining his balance, he saw her quickly look over her shoulder at him before she darted again and shoved open the front door, the bell above it ringing as she ran through it and out into the parking lot.

Charged with fury and a dark desire, Jackson's only goal was catching her, teaching that little bitch a lesson and forcing every last plea and whine out of her that he could. Tearing through the door after her, he saw up ahead by the glow of the street lights that she was running through the parking lot, foregoing the sidewalk and cutting through the alley behind the building next door.

Immediately running after her, Jackson followed the same path she took as he kept his focus on her form up ahead. Every so often, she'd look back over her shoulder to see where he was, and when she did, she slowed down enough to allow more distance between them to close. Of course, Jackson was faster than her, but she'd got a head start, and she picked up her pace again as she turned back from looking at him again.

Her heart pounding and her body pumping with adrenaline, Y/N's only thought was the here and now, looking for anything she could throw in his path to detour him or any sudden shortcut she could take to dash away. As she reached the end of the alley, she saw several large metal trash cans up ahead, and upon reaching them, she blindly grabbed them and hurled them over onto their sides, the cans falling open and rolling behind her as they landed with a bang and created a minor obstacle to the path back out onto the street.

Jackson saw her take the turn to the left, and as he easily jumped over the trash cans she’d knocked over, he ran after her down the sidewalk, her hair flying behind her as she ran. Being at the end of the alley, this area of the road was empty of any other people, the only sounds being each of their pounding footsteps as their feet met the pavement. But she was still missing a shoe, and as she stumbled yet again due to the uneven impact that had caused for her feet, she looked over her shoulder again to see how close he was and if she had the time to take the slightest pause.

Jackson had closed more distance between them due to her stumbling, and as he saw her look back again, he caught the questioning expression on her face as she was clearly debating something. But then they’d reached the busier part of the street, and she suddenly dashed off the sidewalk and into the street, bounding between two parked cars and crossing, narrowly missing being hit by an oncoming car as she ran across, the driver honking their horn and slamming on the brakes.

After barely dodging the oncoming car, Y/N looked behind her again and saw that the driver was still paused in the road, and Jackson had been cut off as the car had slammed on its brakes. Quickly, she reached down and ripped off her other shoe.

Slamming on the hood of the car with his fist, Jackson then rounded the front and followed after her once more, seeing her stand back up from quickly bending over to remove her other shoe.

Y/N looked up again to see Jackson just a few feet away as he ran towards her again, and she turned to keep running, but she tripped slightly on the curb as she stepped back onto the sidewalk, and she doubled over as she tried to catch her footing. As she reached out her free hand to try and steady herself, she felt Jackson’s fingers suddenly curl around her wrist and pull her back towards him, her body slamming against his as he yanked her more tightly in his grip and then their torsos collided. She screamed as she felt him throw her against the body of a car parked along the curb, and as her back slammed against the door, she cried out again in pain.

Every vein in Jackson’s body was pulsing as he wrapped his arms around Y/N and threw her against the car. Her chest was pressed into his and he could feel her lungs heaving as she cried out and then tried to catch her breath. She thrashed around until he pinned her harder against the car, and she was finally forced still momentarily as he then slotted his knee between her legs and grabbed her wrist.

She shouted out again, and she tried to pull her wrist out of his grasp, but to no avail. As she was forced still, she felt Jackson’s knee slot between her thighs, and she tried to ignore the way it created a pleasuring friction against her panties. She felt herself dampening again as she met his eyes and saw how he was looking at her as his chest heaved against hers, and she pictured him lifting her legs and slamming his cock into her with the same force with which he’d pushed her against that car.

Finally getting her still, Jackson looked down at her as his breathing heaved and he grunted as she struggled against him once more. When his knee met the apex of her thighs, he looked at her again and their eyes met, and he couldn’t decide in that moment what he wanted more, to wrap his hand around her neck as he slammed his cock inside her pussy, or force her down onto her knees and shove his cock down her throat.

What he didn’t realize was that she was still holding her shoe in her other hand, which she’d hidden behind her back as she’d been thrown against the car. Thrashing around and shouting once more, Jackson was forced to shift, and when he did, she had enough room to pull her arm out from behind her back. Before he could see it coming, Y/N lifted her arm and whacked her shoe across the side of his head, and Jackson was forced to release her wrist, reacting to the unexpected hit and momentarily retracting from her.

As Jackson pulled away, she leaned forward and hit him again, whacking her shoe against his head once more before then shoving his chest and knocking him back further. Then she slid out from between him and the car and took off again, throwing her shoe to the ground as she did.

Seething with anger now, Jackson quickly recovered and turned as she ran off, immediately chasing after her again as she dashed down the sidewalk. But she was at a disadvantage, as the toll her long day and lack of food had taken on her was catching up with her now, and she was feeling the exhaustion creep up as she panted with each step, feeling herself slowing down as she desperately tried to keep running at the same pace. On a regular day, Jackson would already be faster than her, but especially now, having long since lost her head start, he was right on her tail.

It was obvious that she was slowing down now, and as he kept his eyes on her as she kept running, Jackson could see that she was making her way back to the diner, the two of them having essentially run in a big circle and now poised to end up right back where they started. In the last block, he decided to let her keep the slightest gain on him, because as soon as he had her back inside, her victories would be over.

The diner in sight up ahead, Y/N pushed herself the last block and ran with everything she had. She looked over her shoulder once more and saw Jackson right behind her, close enough that he could just reach out and grab her, but he didn’t. As she finally reached the front door of the diner, she wrenched it open just enough to slip inside, Jackson slamming his shoulder into it as she yanked it closed behind her. Pulling with all her might on the handle, she kept him from pulling it open long enough to lock it, and once she’d turned the lock, she backed a few feet away, panting as she watched him briefly pull on the door. He looked up at her then and their eyes met through the window, but when she then saw him reach into his pocket and pull out a key, her eyes widened in shock as she then realized that that was how he’d gotten in in the first place that night.

He had a key to the diner. How?

Not wasting the time to stand there and watch him open the door, Y/N backed away further and then turned around and ran to the back hallway, trying to decide where to go. She panicked as she saw that Stu had yet again left the huge laundry sacks full of soiled linens in front of the back door, blocking the exit. As she stood there, she heard the distinct sound of the bell above the door ringing, and she knew she was trapped now. Her only possible option would be to somehow get back to the front door and go out that way again. But she’d have to get through the kitchen first.

She could hear Jackson’s footsteps approaching, and she quietly began weaving her way around the huge laundry sacks and then slipping into the kitchen, trying to keep her breathing as quiet as possible.

After watching her for so long, Jackson knew the entire layout of the diner, and he also knew that Stu had left the laundry at the back door as usual. Because of that, he knew Y/N would have no option but to make her way through the kitchen and try to go back to the front door. So rather than follow after her down the back hall, he walked through the main dining area and headed for the swinging door that led into the kitchen, knowing he’d be able to intercept her somewhere on her way through the kitchen.

She realized she no longer heard his footsteps, and as Y/N tiptoed slowly across the tiled floor, she kept looking over her shoulder, unsure if he’d be behind her or in front of her. When she turned her head forward once more as she passed by the dishwashing sink, she accidentally knocked over a huge metal ladle that’s handle had been sticking out over the edge of the counter. As it clanged loudly on the tile as it hit the floor, she gasped and squeezed her eyes shut in a regretful wince as she waited for the sound to stop.

Opening her eyes again, she then quickly slipped off to the side, hiding behind the tall bread racks just in time, as she saw Jackson appear through the doorframe as she tucked herself deeper behind them. Slipping her hand up to her mouth, she tried to muffle the sound of her breathing as her heart pounded, seeing him look around and then step further into the kitchen, passing by her as he went to look back by the walk-in pantry.

As soon as he was out of sight, Y/N slipped out from behind the racks and continued through the kitchen. What she didn’t know was that Jackson knew exactly where she’d been hiding, though, and as soon as she’d stepped back out onto the floor, he turned back around and followed after her.

Now passing by the servers’ station, Y/N was only a few feet away from the swinging door that led out to the dining area. Taking a final calculated step over a wayward crate of drinking glasses, she leaned forward and reached for the door, but just as her hands were about to come in contact with it, she suddenly felt a pair of arms roughly wrap around her waist and violently yank her backward.

She screamed as she felt him grab her, and as her back met his chest and he lifted her feet off the floor, she thrashed around again, kicking her legs and wriggling her torso as Jackson squeezed her so tight she thought she was going to puke. Her arms still momentarily outstretched for the door, she desperately reached for it one more time before Jackson walked them further backwards and then lowered her back to the floor, whipping her around to face him and then shoving her back against the wall, grabbing her wrists and pinning them on either side of her head as he pressed his chest into hers.

“Looks like your luck has run out, sweetheart,” he growled, throwing back at her the words she’d said to him earlier that day. Then before she could respond, he wrenched her away from the wall, throwing her against the counter instead and pinning hers arms once more.

Screaming, Y/N thrashed around in his grip, fighting against him as he squeezed her wrists and pressed his body into hers.

“LET GO OF ME!!!” she screamed, and then forced herself forward, shoving herself against him as Jackson kept hold of her wrists. As he shook her violently, she screamed again, but when she tried to pull her wrists from his grasp, she was unable to, and he just yanked her towards him again, once more whipping them around and shoving her back up against the freezer door.

“You put up a decent fight, sweetheart, I’ll give you that,” he breathed out. “But we both know you’ve got nothing left. And now I want that apology.”

Staring at each other, both their chests were heaving, and after a split second, Y/N narrowed her eyes and then clicked her tongue before puckering her lips and then spitting in his face.

Momentarily pulling back as her spit hit his cheek, Jackson unintentionally loosened his grip on her wrists, and Y/N ducked beneath his arms and made for the door once more. But Jackson recovered too quickly, dragging his sleeve over his cheek to wipe away her little gift as he lunged after her and grabbed her around the waist once again. Grunting as she fought him, he flung her up onto the counter and she cried out as the back of her head hit the shelf above them. Momentarily seeing stars, Y/N briefly stopped resisting him, and Jackson seized the opportunity as her head hung in front of him and her shoulders sagged. Standing between her legs dangling over the counter, he raised his hand and wrapped his fist in her hair, roughly yanking her head back to force her to look up, and she whimpered as he did.

"You don't know when to quit, do you?" he said to her as he shook his head, and her eyes held his.

Still panting, her chest heaving intensely, Y/N narrowed her eyes as she spoke.

"You're a miserable piece of shit," she muttered as she still struggled to catch her breath.

His fury reigniting once more, Jackson released her hair and dragged his hand to her neck instead, wrapping his fingers around her throat and squeezing, hearing the satisfying sound of her breath catching in her throat as she struggled to inhale, her eyes widening briefly.

"And you're even stupider than I thought," he shot back, his grip on her neck slightly tightening, but she could still speak.

"I hate you," Y/N croaked out.

Jackson tightened his grip even more, and he was vaguely aware of his cock twitching in his pants.

"So stupid..." he replied. "Now say it."

He jostled her by her neck as he demanded the apology once more.

"Never," Y/N croaked again.

"Say it."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Fuck you, Jack."

At that, Jackson's veins pulsed, and he felt the familiar combination of anger and arousal that plagued him every time he watched her. As he suddenly pictured her getting herself off, his cock immediately stiffened, and when he looked down to see her nipples hardened beneath her shirt and her eyes briefly dart to his lips, he clenched his jaw and released a humorless scoff before yanking her face to his by her throat.

"Little bitch," he growled, and then he slammed his mouth against hers as he tightened his grip on her neck a final time.

Moaning and then squirming as Jackson's lips landed forcefully on hers, Y/N wasn't sure whether she was more surprised or aroused as she fell forward into him. The anger returned after the initial shock, and after a few seconds of her lips battling with his, she lifted her arms and planted her palms on his chest, shoving him away and feeling his hand fall from her neck, the grip of which had loosened slightly when he'd pulled her to him. But when she forced him away and he backed up a step, their eyes met once more, and there was no denying the hatred-fueled desire that had come to a head between them.

Hurling himself back at her, Jackson fisted her hair again as he crashed their lips together once more, only this time, Y/N accepted him with angry eagerness, moaning again as she kissed him back, gripping his shoulders and sharply sinking her nails into his skin through his jacket.

Jackson hissed at the feel of her nails clenching his shoulders, and he quickly grabbed her wrists and roughly yanked them down, holding her palms against the counter as her legs wrapped around his waist.

He heard her moan again as he thrusted his bulge against her core, and then he released her wrists as she leaned into him and scooted closer to the edge of the counter. He'd never wanted any woman more than he wanted her, and his admission of that to himself only made him angrier, and he violently grabbed her thighs to pull her even closer, squeezing so hard that she tore her mouth from his to cry out in pain.

As she felt Jackson's hands squeeze her with nearly blinding pain, Y/N had to part from his mouth, a high cry escaping her as she did. But instead of recoiling further, she found herself wanting more, and she didn't even know how to process that. So she didn't. All she knew was that she'd never wanted any man more, and she tried to ignore how unbelievably twisted that was as he grabbed her again.

Jackson was practically ready to combust, needing to be inside her, to fuck the sass right out of her, and he quickly reached for her shirt and tore it over her head, Y/N cooperating as she raised her arms to allow him to. As he yanked the straps and cups of her bra down, Y/N simultaneously shoved his jacket off his shoulders and down his arms, then urgently worked at his shirt buttons as he roughly cupped her breasts and kneaded them, being anything but gentle as he pinched her nipples and then lifted his hands to yank her hair again. As her head jerked up at the tug of her hair, their eyes met briefly again, and Jackson's eyes burned with blue fire before he angrily shoved his head into her neck.

Y/N gasped as she felt him immediately bite harsh nip after harsh nip into her neck, and she tore open his shirt and scratched her nails against his bare skin, dragging them across him and leaving raised scratches all over his chest, his skin reddening to the same color as the marks he was leaving on her neck. Once again, she felt him roughly grasp her breasts, and she arched into him as he did, whimpering as he pinched her nipples again and then pulled back from her neck.

"Maybe I can fuck some common sense into you," Jackson growled as he reached down for her waistband and opened her jeans, yanking them down her hips and then moving his hands to his own pants as Y/N shimmied the legs of her jeans down to her ankles. Jackson quickly undid his belt and opened his pants, drawing his painfully hard cock out of his boxers as Y/N watched, feeling her pussy weeping as she eyed his large, stiff cock, which he pumped several times in his hand. Clenching around nothing, she wanted to feel him inside her with pathetic desperation.

"Although, seeing as it's you, I don't have very high hopes for you learning anything," he finished with a growl, and then he moved his hands from his cock to her hip and violently ripped her panties from her body, Y/N crying out briefly again as the way he roughly tore the garment from her hips left a fabric burn across her skin.

Her pussy now exposed — and it was the most luscious, gorgeous pussy he'd ever seen — Jackson released a deep, guttural groan as he saw her slick shining against her pink folds. She was so wet, and he gave her absolutely no prep before he grabbed her hips and pulled her right to the edge of the counter, her ass barely still resting on it as he then fisted himself at her entrance and then slammed his cock inside her so roughly that several metal bowls fell from the shelf above them and crashed loudly onto the floor.

"Ahhhhh!" Y/N cried out in an insane combination of pain and pleasure, her walls instantly enveloping him as Jackson slammed his hips into her. She felt every vein and ridge of his large cock rubbing against her insides, and she clamped down in desperate need as she met his thrust with a jutting out of her own hips. Her head fell back and she planted her palms on the counter to brace herself as Jackson pulled almost all the way out before violently slamming into her again.

He himself was groaning in angry pleasure, her gorgeous, slick pussy so tight and so warm, tugging him every inch of the way each time he pulled out, almost as if she was trying to keep him inside her. As Y/N met Jackson thrust for thrust, he saw her face scrunch up in the same adorably sexy way it did whenever he watched her pleasure herself, except he recognized that it was even more evident than when she touched herself.

"I think you're enjoying this a little too much," Jackson said to her through heavy breaths as he continued to pound into her. "It's pathetic, really."

Shifting her head and meeting his eyes, Y/N was panting as she answered him.

"Fuck you," she stuttered out, unable to think of anything else to say.

Jackson gave her a wicked grin.

"That's apparently what you've wanted all along, isn't it?" he taunted her. "For me to fuck you? That's the only explanation as to why you're acting like such a fucking slut right now." He slammed into her again, so harshly that she had to reach up and grab his shoulders, which he allowed her to do, breathing in her intoxicating scent.

"I hate you," she muttered again as she gripped him, but anything else she was about to say was immediately silenced when Jackson suddenly ran the pad of his thumb over her clit and then not-so-gently rolled it between his fingers as she fell against him at the sensation.

"The feeling's mutual, sweetheart," he bit back as he rolled her clit again, and the sound of the whimper that came from her had his balls tightening and him nearly ready to come.

He rolled her clit again and again, looking down and watching as his cock slid in and out of her and her folds continued to drip with glistening want. She was so exquisitely tight, and he knew that this would not be the last time he fucked her. It may be the first, but it definitely wouldn't be the last.

As he heard her cry out again, he could sense her weakening, and her arms fell from his shoulders as she could barely keep up anymore. Once again, he lifted his free hand to her hair, wrapping it around his fist and yanking her head up to meet his eyes.

"I should really teach you a lesson and not let you come," he said as he gave her an evil smile. "See how much more pathetic you get if I leave you without anything."

At that thought, her brow furrowed in desperation and her walls clamped even more tightly around him. She was fairly certain she'd die if he left her without a release. She just knew she would come harder with him than she ever had before.

"Please, Jackson," she suddenly heard herself begging him in a whiny voice, and she had absolutely no idea where the words had even come from. She would never have allowed herself to beg this asshole for anything in the world, but with his cock inside her and his thumb stroking her clit, the standards she set for herself obviously went out the window.

Upon hearing her whine, Jackson's smile widened into a huge, shit-eating grin, and he slammed into her again with insane force.

"So, this is what it takes to make you know your place, huh?" he said as she whimpered again. "Well, I'll take begging over an apology any day." He then lowered his thumb to her folds again, circling around her clit but avoiding the exact spot, causing Y/N to scrunch her face again with a tiny, desperate squeal.

"Say it again," Jackson growled. "Beg me."

Coherent thoughts were now gone, Y/N instead only registering the insane arousal and the desperate need she had for him to make her come.

"Please, Jackson," she mewled again.

He felt his balls tightening once more.

"Again," he demanded.

"Please! Jackson, please!"

"Still not good enough," he said through labored breath, his hips meeting the inside of her thighs again as her legs wrapped tighter around his waist.

"Please! Please...please...please...please!" Y/N begged with every thrust, panting and shaking as she felt just about ready to fall back against the counter. But at her last plea, he finally made contact with her clit again.

"Again," Jackson demanded a final time, and he leaned forward and harshly bit her neck as he rubbed her clit in repeated circles.

"PLEASE!" Y/N nearly screamed, and then it became an actual scream as she came violently, her entire body shaking as he finished rubbing her out. Jackson then slammed into her in three final thrusts, feeling her arms wrap around his shoulders and falling against her as he exploded inside her with more intensity than he'd ever felt before, shouting out a loud groan. By the time he was finished, he could feel his cum leaking back out of her onto himself, overfilling her, and he was certain he'd never shot a load that big in his entire life.

Without thinking, he reached up and fisted her hair again, tugging her head to meet his lips once more, dominating her mouth with an aggressive, bullying kiss.

They parted then, and for several moments, he remained inside her, both of them panting to catch their breath. But soon, Jackson pulled himself out of her, stepping back and tucking himself back inside his boxers before then re-doing his pants and buttoning his shirt.

Still panting and watching him silently, Y/N was still trying to process everything that had just happened, and when Jackson looked up from his clothes and their eyes met again, she realized she’d never felt simultaneously so satisfied while still wanting more in her entire life. As he reached up and smoothed a hand through his hair, he spoke.

"Who knows, sunshine, you may just be teachable yet," he said mockingly, and then he lifted a hand to her bare thigh and gave it a condescending little pat.

He then headed for the swinging door, Y/N watching after him, and when he spoke a final time, she could only nod in response.

"You close again tomorrow night, don't you?" he asked her, although he already knew she did. And when Jackson saw the affirmation Y/N gave him with a nod of her head, he shot her his trademark smirk.

"Offer to stay late and mop up again, and we'll go for round two after your shift,” he said as he held her eyes. “We'll see how well you receive tomorrow night’s lesson, and if you can prove to me that you learned anything, then maybe I’ll give you another gold star.”

And with that, he walked out of the kitchen and then out the main door, the bell above it, as always, ringing out its signature sound as he did.

@nyxxie-pooh @xsweetcatastrophe @allie131313 @empatheticlove @febris-amatoria

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Cillian Murphy - Sunshine (2007)

Tommy, Finn and Esme aren't smiling either girl, it ain't that deep 😭

Edit: why would she be smiling when another girl is marrying the man she loves? Bffr 😭

I found Lizzie hiding behind the whole people in the Tommy x Grace wedding photo. People of Tommy's side smile, or seem to be happy. Only Lizzie has dark face without smile.

Stress Level: Cillian Murphy Characters

Take It on the Run Pt. 2 | Thomas Shelby x Fem!OC

summary: Tommy keeps coming back to the cabaret but you never know why. Sometimes he stays but usually he doesn't, leaving his cigarette still smoking on the table. His flighty behavior and emotional unavailability starts to rub you the wrong way, but you can't bring yourself to hate him... but maybe you should.

warnings: outdated language concerning sex-workers; smut

word count: 4142k

Do I Move You?- Nina Simone 🎵

Daylight- David Kushner 🎶

Tommy Shelby told you that the cabaret “wasn’t his… thing” just a week ago and yet, when you begin your solo routine in a cream and sheer bodysuit, guess who’s sitting at that familiar table? You’re singing your song when you notice him, leaning back in his chair and holding a lit cigarette between his knuckles. His cheekbones are cast in an aggressive shadow but you can still make out his icy blue eyes looking back at you. 

You meet his gaze and match his neutral expression. You hadn’t expected to see him again after that night, maybe once or twice in passing but not here. You curse silently in your head and continue singing, feeling more self-conscious than usual beneath the hot stage lights. You can see his eyes pass over you though he makes no show of his thoughts when he takes another drag of his cigarette. 

Your song finally comes to an end and the crowd cheers with wolf whistles. Tommy doesn’t even clap, he stares at you for another moment and then stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray. He downs the rest of his whiskey and stands, and leaves. You watch his back as he walks through the doors of the cabaret and doesn’t look back. Suddenly, you feel like a little girl, standing alone on the stage in a room full of strangers. 

…

After the cabaret closes, you go back onstage to grab your jar of tips. The house lights are dimmed, practically off. The rudimentary electricity flickers every few seconds, stimulating a migraine the longer you look. Your bare feet make no noise as you walk across the sticky stage. The sound of a lighter flicking open sounds from somewhere in the audience, revealing a cut-angular face and a peaky cap. The lighter snaps shut and a cigarette ends burns red in the dark. 

“Sorry I didn’t stay- had important business to attend to,” Tommy stands from his seat and drops his lighter into his breast pocket. He looks you up and down, smirking slightly at what you look like after the show. 

“Were you waiting for me?” You ask, not sure whether to be flattered or afraid. 

“I thought I’d congratulate you on a good performance,” Tommy shrugs and weaves between the tables with the chairs upturned on their tops. 

“You didn’t look like you enjoyed it,” you banter back and move closer to the lip of the stage. Tommy waves his hand in a dismissive fashion, scoffing. 

“I told you, cabaret’s not really my thing.” 

“Right,” you nod and come to the edge of the stage. Tommy stands just below you, his face coming up to your hips from his position on the floor. He looks up at you, tilting his head to the side as he looks you over. Your bodysuit is revealing, barely covering your tits and cunt. He twists his mouth slightly in an expression that almost looks like anger- jealousy. 

“Nice costume,” Tommy mutters and takes a long drag from his cigarette. You don’t respond so you both fall into a tense silence until he speaks again. “So you said you live here. Is that right?” 

You nod and point backstage. “Back there. Just me and the other girls. We all have rooms back there.” 

“Is that where you take all the men?” Tommy asks, gesturing with his cigarette. 

“Jealous are we?” You tease. Tommy looks away and shakes his head once. 

“Don’t.” His voice is stern and sharp. You know you’ve touched a nerve and you smile softly, biting your lip and looking down at your feet. 

“It’s affordable and safe here with the other girls… that’s why I live here.” You answer finally and Tommy looks back at your face, studying you. 

“Safe?” He asks softly, his judgmental brow raised. 

“It’s safer than walking home alone every night after the cabaret closes.” You elaborate, gesturing loosely to the streets of Birmingham right outside the cabaret walls. “Anyway, I’ve been here for five years now- I started sometime after the war. You get used to it pretty quickly.” 

Tommy clenches his jaw, silently counting the number of male clients you might have entertained in your time here. He takes off his cap and runs a hand through his hair, exhaling tightly. 

“Sounds like a lonely life,” he says at last and you shrug. 

“So does yours.” 

Tommy looks back up at you with cold, annoyed eyes. He sets his cap back on his head and shoves his hands into his pockets. 

“Yeah? And what do you know about my life?” 

“Nothing, I can just tell.” You tilt your head to the side, looking at him intently. Tommy falters beneath your direct eye contact and bristles. 

“Really?” He asks, his tone hard, “how?” 

You crouch down on the lip of the stage so that you’re face to face with Tommy. You take his left hand and hold it with his palm facing you. 

“No wedding ring, so you’re not married. You’re a criminal, so you struggle to trust others which is why you usually work alone. And… you came here. What were you looking for if not for a distraction?” Your eyes look between his. He scowls, pissed that you can see through him- or at least that you’re saying it aloud. 

“Very observant,” Tommy says coldly. 

“It’s part of the job, you have to know what the men need from you…” 

Tommy keeps his face neutral but his eyes leave your face, flicking to the side before going back to your face. His jaw is tight.

“And what is it that I need?” He asks slowly, dangerously. You look at him for a little while longer and then shake your head. 

“I don’t know…” you admit. You look down at his hand and turn it around in your hands. Tommy looks down at you, his brow furrows and he scoffs sarcastically. 

“Why are you holding my hand like that?” 

You look up at him and roll your eyes. “You’re mean, you know that?” 

“I’m aware,” he scoffs again and pulls his hand away. He clenches his fist and relaxes it. You laugh softly at his attitude and lean closer. 

“Why are you so mean?” 

Tommy looks you up and down, his eyes stopping briefly on your chest. Slowly, he raises his hand to your cheek and slides his thumb across your bottom lip. 

“Why do you try to get so close?” Tommy asks, his lip curled. 

“Does it scare you?” You ask softly against his thumb. 

“No, it doesn’t scare me.” His words brush against your lips like a slap. He smells richly like tobacco, and it almost makes your knees weak. You sigh and stand, stepping away from the lip of the stage. Tommy’s hand falls to his side again and he watches after you with a tilt to his head.

“Goodnight, Mr. Shelby.” You whisper and grab your jar of tips. You can’t help but almost storm off the stage. Whenever you try to get closer to him, he has a way of ridiculing your feelings and affections. You don’t look back as you leave him standing in the dark cabaret. 

…

Then a few nights later, you see him again. And then again a few nights later. Those two nights he didn’t stay after or try in any way to speak to you. He’d started to just become another patron, another man that liked to watch you- fuck you, but nothing more. You couldn’t tell what he wanted or what he was thinking anymore and it started to really bother you. It’s not like you really had feelings for Thomas Shelby but you couldn’t deny how beautiful he was. As much as you hated the way he showed up and said nothing, you still loved seeing him in the audience surrounded by smoke like a veil. You knew he was there to watch you so you always tried to put on a good show in the hope that he would wait for you after. But he never did. 

Tommy was trying to avoid the Cabaret. He didn’t even have any feelings for you, not really. He was still grieving his true love and first wife, and didn’t have the ability to feel anything for anyone else. It wasn’t love that he felt for you- it was something else that he couldn’t quite put into words. He felt that you were really similar to him, that you could deeply understand one another and maybe even benefit from helping one another. But at the end of the day, you were just a cabaret dancer and Tommy didn’t need another cabaret dancer. But each time he forced himself to forget about you, he thought about your situation and the way you had spoken to him the first time he’d met you. You’d said that you wanted to be a “normal woman,” and while Tommy certainly wasn’t a normal man- maybe he could provide you with a more “normal” life. He knew he was capable of doing that, of giving you an escape from the cabaret into a life of safety, stability, and normalcy but wasn’t the idea too ridiculous to pursue? He didn’t even know you but he kept going back to the cabaret and seeing you. It made him angry to see you onstage, maybe it was jealousy but it was also knowing how much you hated the work. He knew he wasn’t a good man, but the boy he used to be was. He could do something right, something good but could he bring himself to do it?

So Tommy finds himself at the Cabaret again, sitting at his usual table, a cigarette dangling between his lips. This time when you see him sitting in the dim light of the bar, you stare him down. Tommy swallows tightly and taps his cigarette over his ashtray, watching you still. He knows what you’re trying to do. He doesn’t tear his eyes away from yours, his expression one of subtle challenge. You trail your fingers over your body starting from your pelvis up to your breasts. The whistles of the audience are lost on you, only capturing Tommy’s attention matters at that moment. His eyes follow your hands as they curve over your body and his jaw tightens. When your routine ends, he doesn’t leave, just blows out a cloud of smoke slowly. You bow and disappear backstage, a twitch of annoyance on your lip. 

Tommy flags down a waiter, one of his fists clenched at his side.

“I need you to pass a message to Diana, tell her to meet me backstage after the show tonight. Understand?” He mutters darkly and takes another drag. The young waiter, realizing who the patron is, swallows tightly and stutters. 

“Y-yes, Mr. Shelby. Anything else?” 

“No, that’ll be all.” Tommy exhales and returns his attention back to the stage. More dancers come on stage and perform but you aren’t among them this time. He downs another glass of whisky and checks his watch, the time is nearing midnight and the cabaret will be closing soon. Tommy watches from beneath his cap as patrons start to leave and waiters start busing the filthy tables. As the cabaret closes down around him, Tommy puts his cigarette between his lips and stands, sliding on his jacket. The waiter hurries over and ducks his head. 

“She’s ready for you backstage, Mr. Shelby.” 

“Alright, thank you.” He says around his cigarette and follows the man backstage through a greasy side door. 

“She’s in ‘er dressing room through there.” The waiter points to one of the doors along the thin, dim hallway. Tommy nods once again and waits for the man to leave before opening the door. 

When the door to your dressing room opens, you can’t help but jump a little. You turn around quickly, already ready for a fight. 

 “Tommy-” You start but he waves his hand through the hair, silencing you. 

“Don’t.” He says calmly and slams the door behind him. “Sit.” He points to the chair behind you. You look back at the chair, your brow furrowed. Slowly, you do as you’re told, looking up at Tommy with a hint of resentment in your eyes. 

“Why the hell are you looking at me like that?” Tommy steps closer and rubs his hands over his face, stretching the skin. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask, ignoring his question. Tommy steps closer, his brow raised. He can’t exactly explain why he’s so pissed off at you and because he can’t, it makes him angrier. 

“You know damn well why I’m here,” his voice is strained and tired.

“You keep showing up, just watch me perform and leave without speaking to me. What am I supposed to think?” You protest, your voice steady in its frustration. 

Tommy smiles and laughs, shaking his head like he’s laughing at his own joke. He sniffs and clears his throat. 

“You’re a smart woman, you can figure it out.”

You narrow your eyes at him. The truth is, you don’t know why he came back this time. You assume it’s for sex and that makes you even angrier. 

“Fuck you,” you snap and Tommy chuckles, his lips curving into a smirk. He closes the distance and leans his hands on the armrests of the chair, boxing you in. His face is just above yours, his eyes more vibrant in their emotion. 

“What that mouth of yours,” he says lowly, evenly. 

“Or what?” You start, “we fucked once and then you practically disappeared. You don’t have the right to tell me what to do.” You growl. 

Tommy’s grip on the armrests tightens as he tries to swallow down the mixture of anger and lust rising in his chest. Exhaling, he grabs your chin and holds it roughly in place. 

“I said watch your mouth. I’m not some random man you can just push around.” His voice is low and dark, like a threat. 

“No,” you mock unapologetically, “your’re Thomas fucking Shelby.” As if his name even means much to you. It certainly carried some weight in and around the cabaret but you’d told him before, you don’t concern yourself with business outside of the cabaret. 

Something snaps in Tommy’s eyes and he grits his teeth. “Listen to me. I won’t tell you again. Watch your fucking mouth,” he nearly spits. 

And before you can think it through, you respond. 

“Make me.” 

With a quick movement, Tommy suddenly pulls you to your feet by your arms and pins you against the wall, your face just beneath his. He doesn’t worry about being gentle with you, in fact he hopes it hurts you a little when he does this. You gasp out a breath of air when he shoves you against the wall and holds you by your shoulders. Your eyes widen and your lips fall open in surprise. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Tommy pants, his hand coming up to hold your throat. He stares directly into your eyes as you take a breath and struggle against him, your palms beating his chest. 

“Let me go, Tommy.” You ignore his question again, pissed. 

He grabs your wrists to keep you from hitting him and pushes his weight against you. He looks down into your eyes, his gaze changing from anger into one of passion. 

“You don’t really want me to do that, do you?”

You stop thrashing and take a breath, your eyes looking between his. As much as you hate him right now, god damn his eyes are beautiful. Remembering your frustration, however, you try to speak. 

“Tommy-” 

Tommy interrupts you, seeing the look of defiance in your eyes. He leans in, his lips close enough to brush against your neck. 

“Say my name again,” he orders softly. 

You take a deep breath, your heart racing. You can feel his breath against your neck and it sends shivers down your body into your cunt. Taking a second deep breath, you exhale. 

“Tommy…”

He smiles against your neck and starts to nip the sensitive skin beneath your ear. Then he moves his lips to rest against your ear. 

“I want you, Diana.” 

You close your eyes, sighing, your body starting to give in. But in the next moment you remember yourself and push him away. You move across the room, your legs weak and shaky. When you turn around, you’re both breathing heavily. Tommy removes his heavy coat and tosses it over a clothing rack. 

“For God’s sake, woman,” he grits out and runs his hand over his mouth. You exhale tightly, trying to hold yourself together and ignore the throbbing in your cunt. Instead of responding, you start to pull off your shoes and accessories, dropping them aggressively on the floor and makeup counter. You can’t even look at him without wanting to go back to him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Tommy scoffs as he watches you discard parts of your costume and ignore him. 

“Are you gonna keep acting like a child?” Tommy grumbles and leans against the wall with his arms across over his chest. You spin around, your arms gesturing wildly and your eyes flaming. 

“Jesus, Tommy! What do you want from me? Why do you keep coming back here just to never speak to me?” You rip off your feathered headband and toss it to the side angrily. Tommy watches you discard parts of your sheer costume. His eyes roam over your body, his lust once again starting to rule over his frustration. He sighs and passes a hand through his dark hair. He takes a breath, looking away from you, then finally turns back, his eyes jumping from your body to your eyes.

“I can’t get you out of my mind,” he says softly, as if he’s exhausted. 

You freeze, never expecting him to say something like that. Tommy shakes his head, frustrated at himself now for giving you and your situation so much power over him. Though he won’t say it, he might be obsessed with you. He suddenly feels ashamed and his eyes go cold again. 

“Is that not what you wanted to hear?” He asks, his eyes turning away from you. In the harsh dressing room light, his cheekbones cast dark shadows on his face in profile. You wet your lips and shake your head, not able to believe him. 

“I’m not a whore, Tommy. You can’t just come back whenever you want to fuck me,” you mutter, suddenly exhausted too. Tommy looks back, his brow immediately furrows. He jumps off from the wall and closes the distance once again between you. He places his hands on your shoulders, holding you still. 

“That’s not what this is,” his voice is low but clear- direct. He’s becoming more impatient by the minute. It’s like you’re refusing to see sense, to understand what he’s trying to tell you. He doesn’t understand why you’re the only thing he can think about and why he wants more of you, in all senses, now. His hands travel up your shoulders to the sides of your neck before they come to rest on either side of your face. His pointer fingers rest behind your ears, tucked beneath your flapper’s bob. 

You finally look up into his eyes, your heart falling into your stomach at what you see. You start to believe him, god-damn it. You do. Tommy lets out a gruff sigh and caresses your cheek with his thumb, his eyes traveling over your face as if he has all the time in the world to do so. 

“Don’t act like you don’t want me just as bad,” he mutters, his voice quieter than before. And when he says it, it doesn’t sound like he just means sex anymore. But what more do you want from Tommy Shelby than just sex? 

Your hands move to his lapels, gripping the button holes. You close your eyes for a moment as Tommy’s thumb passes over your bottom lip. He sighs when you close your eyes, his head immediately tilting down to get closer to your lips. 

“You drive me fucking mad, you know?” Tommy mutters so close to your lips that you can feel the sound of his words. His mouth dodges your lips and finds your neck, kissing below your jaw. 

“I hate you sometimes,” you whisper back, your breath jumping when you feel his hand slip down to your waist. He nods against your skin and moves his mouth slowly up to yours. 

“I know.” 

As he says this, you break and pull your chemise over your hips so you can undo your garters. Tommy groans softly against your mouth as he feels your garters snap as they fall away. Tommy runs his hands up your thigh as you unbutton his trousers, both panting softly between kisses. Tommy unbuttons his shirt and lets it hang open as he picks you up and sits back in the chair. He sets you down on his lap where you’re straddling him. His hands roam over your thighs as you take his face in your hands. The straps of your chemise roll off your shoulders but the fabric still covers your chest.  

“I want to see you, Diana.” Tommy slides his hands up your sides. You look down at him, your eyes meeting and holding contact.

“Not yet,” you whisper. 

Tommy’s hands slide back down your sides to rest on your hips. One of his hands starts to rub circles on the small of your back over your chemise. He smirks softly and tilts his head to the side. 

“Why not?” 

You smile back and lean down, brushing your nose against his. “You have to earn it,” you whisper. You kiss Tommy gently and he sighs against your lips, pulling you closer by your hips. 

“Earn it,” he asks, his eyes still closed, “how the hell do I earn it then?” He smiles and looks back up at you. You kiss him briefly, adding to his sexual frustration. 

“You have to be good to me.”

“Good to you?” He repeats, groaning when you start to taunt him with short kisses. 

“Be good to me,” you whisper again and begin to kiss him harder. 

He slips his arms around your waist and pulls you flush against his chest. He kisses you passionately and deeply. You moan softly against his lips and Tommy moves one hand to slide up and down your thigh, holding you securely on his lap. 

“Is this good?” Tommy mutters, smiling. You giggle and shake your head, breaking the kiss. 

“You can touch me… but you can’t look- not yet.”

Tommy leans his head back against the chair and closes his eyes, trying to contain himself. He sighs tightly and opens his eyes, his head still leaning back. His hands roam up your body to your waist and up to your chest. His hands are open and flat as he passes his palms over your breasts, still veiled in silky fabric. He watches your reaction as you gasp softly, your nipples hardening beneath his light touch. 

Your hands trail down his bare stomach to his unbuttoned trousers. You reach into his pants and pull out his erection. Tommy groans, his eyes not leaving yours as he continues to feel you up over your chemise. You rise up on your knees and align his cock between your thighs. You sit down slowly and sigh tightly as you feel him fill you up. You move slowly, rocking your hips back and forth. Tommy holds onto your hips, guiding you and matching your rhythm. He watches you in admiration as you take the lead, grinding harder and faster as you please. 

“Fuck.” Tommy pulls you down harder on his cock, causing you both to groan and gasp against each other. His hand slides up your back to rest against your spine, supporting you as you lean away from his chest. You’re whimpering as Tommy breathes heavily against your sternum, sweat glistening beneath your collarbones and between your breasts. You’re moving your hips as quickly as you can as Tommy guides you up and down. When you kiss him, he lets you slot your tongue between his lips. He groans when you suck on his wide bottom lip and his hips sputter up into yours. 

“Slow down, girl,” Tommy warns you between kisses, his hands slowing your hips down. “Stop for a second, look at me,” Tommy speaks softly though his words are broken up by heavy breaths. You stop and look down at him, your neck flushed with blood. 

“W-what is it?” 

Tommy looks up at you, his hands rubbing up and down your sides. Why he chooses this moment- he doesn’t know. He wets his lips. 

“Marry me.”

i stay up late to be happy for a few more hours

I’m sorry this didn’t first come out when I promised, but since I already made you guys wait longer than you were supposed to, I’m releasing it now. I really hope this is what you guys were hoping for. It doesn’t get as dark as some of you may have been expecting, but perhaps at some point I’ll take it there with a second part/sequel.

I hope you like it! Please comment and share!

Tell Me The Truth

•• Jonathan Crane x Reader ••

Story note: Thiopental is the proper name for what’s more commonly known as “truth serum.” It works by slowing the brain’s higher levels of functioning, making coming up with lies or fabricating complicated stories difficult for a person.

***!!!Warning: Mature sexual content, mentions/use of needles, blood, drug administration/drug influence, reader vulnerability/loss of some defenses and control, 18+ readers only, minors DNI!!!***

…………………………………………………………………………….

“Y/N! Wait up!”

Looking over her shoulder, Y/N saw one of the lab technicians, Terry, jogging towards her down the wide hallway. He was coming from the lab office where they’d just been talking, and as he approached and got closer, Y/N smiled, and when he stopped in front of her, she raised her eyebrows.

“Is there something we forgot to review?” she asked him, still smiling.

“No,” he shook his head, catching his breath after the jog through the wing of the building, “but you forgot this,” he said, lifting his hand and revealing her access key card he held between his fingers. “You left it on the counter in the lab.”

Her eyebrows raising again in surprise, Y/N reached out to take the key card from him.

“Oh, gosh! Thanks so much! I’m gonna need that later.”

“You mean tomorrow,” he suggested in correction. “You’ll need it tomorrow.”

“No,” Y/N replied with a shake of her head. “I mean tonight. I’ve still got some work to do after I drop these documents off in Dr. Crane's office. I need to sort through the results of the latest trial he conducted for that proposed new version of Thiopental, and then I have to go back to the lab and begin dosing out the vials of it for the next trial.”

“How many trials is he going to do?” Terry asked.

“Just these two,” Y/N replied. “The first was to track the physical effects and duration of those effects, as well as efficacy. This next trial is to assess the intensity of effect and the average recovery time. We’re hoping this version of the drug won’t leave patients feeling as spacey and out of it for as long as the original version typically does.”

“I see,” Terry replied with a nod of his head. “Who else do you have working on this with you?”

Y/N shook her head.

“No one; just me,” she then replied.

“Geez, Crane really likes to work you, doesn’t he?” Terry responded.

“It’s not like that,” Y/N said. “He allows plenty of other people to be involved in running the trials and collecting the data. It’s just that when it comes to interpreting the data and getting everything organized for the trials, he wants me to do it.”

“He keeps you on a pretty short leash,” Terry countered.

“No,” Y/N said again. “He’s giving me the opportunity I need, which is to gain firsthand experience and knowledge. This is exactly the kind of stuff I need to be involved in as I work towards my PhD. It’s what’s entailed in being a research assistant.”

“I don’t see him making anyone else work after 5:00 p.m. on a consistent basis,” Terry said then. “But you’re always here late.”

“He doesn’t make me; I do it on my own accord.” Y/N replied.

“Why?” Terry asked with a skeptical raise of his brow. “It’s not like he’s a joy to work with. It surely can’t be his personality that keeps you hanging around. The guy couldn’t be less inviting or more clinical. Has he ever even thanked you or acknowledged what you do?”

“Terry,” Y/N said, admonishing him for criticizing Dr. Crane. “He’s a brilliant doctor and an ingenious pharmaceutical developer. It’s only natural for him to be very clinically focused. But, truly, he’s not as cold as you make him sound. He’s just...focused.”

“You know, your face always flushes whenever you talk about him,” Terry said teasingly with a smirk as he looked at Y/N. “In your eyes, he can do no wrong. Does your strong defense of him have anything to do with the fact that you so obviously have a crush on him?”

Blushing even deeper than she apparently already was, Y/N’s jaw slightly dropped in surprise.

“I do NOT!” she insisted, hugging the files she was holding to her chest.

“Please, Y/N, it’s all too obvious. We all work in pretty close quarters in that lab; it’s hard to miss the way you look at him whenever he’s in there with us. And if that’s so obvious in the lab, I can only imagine how much more you fawn over him when it’s just the two of you in his office.”

“I do NOT fawn!” Y/N denied again. “I’m his assistant. I’m supposed to pay close attention to him and help him in any way that I can.”

Of course, though, Terry was right. Y/N’s loyalty to Dr. Crane and his work was genuine, but it was one hundred percent correct that she had a hopeless crush on the doctor as well. He was incomprehensibly smart, dedicated to his work, and constantly developing something new in the field – he was so accomplished. He was also insanely handsome and sexy (although he seemed to be unaware of that fact), and although he displayed a quite cold, clinical demeanor ninety-eight percent of the time, there were glimpses of affection that he’d shown Y/N here and there over the last year, and it was enough to get her imagination running for all sorts of different scenarios. How many times had she imagined those lips of his on hers? His hands gripping her waist while she was bent over the lab counter?

Admittedly, although she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, there was something else about him that spoke to her as well. He had a kind of...intimidating way about him that made her feel things. Almost like a slight hint of menacing or danger that made her both nervous and excited when around him. It was like he was balancing between remaining composed and becoming something a bit darker...equally as ready to either praise her or punish her, depending on whether or not she pleased him. And she always tried very hard to please him.

“You’re like his little pet, you know?” Terry continued then. “He snaps his fingers, and you—”

“Mr. Hall!” a very familiar voice suddenly called out from down the way, cutting into their conversation, and both Y/N and Terry turned to see Dr. Crane standing several yards away, briefcase in hand as he looked at Terry.

“You’re supposed to be in the lab right now, are you not?” he spoke again, his voice still raised slightly for them both to hear. “I don’t believe we’re paying you to ignore your responsibilities and distract my staff, so kindly say your goodbyes to Miss Y/L/N and get back to work.”

Turning back to face Terry, Y/N gave him a look that was a cross between apologetic and sympathetic.

“Don’t worry; I’ll tell him you were just bringing me my key card,” she whispered to him.

“Won’t matter,” Terry replied with slight resentment, briefly eyeing Crane again over Y/N’s shoulder. “But maybe if you slip in a good word for me when the two of you are making out later, that might change his mind.”

“Shh! Don’t say things like that! Someone could hear you!” Y/N said in a somewhat panicked voice. “If a rumor starts going around that he and I—”

“Miss Y/L/N!” It was now Y/N’s turn to be called on by the doctor, but when she turned her head again and looked at him, he said nothing further, just gave her an expectant look and remained firmly where he stood.

“I gotta go; thanks for bringing me my card,” she whispered again as she quickly turned back to Terry for the last time. Then she grabbed the key card from his still outstretched hand and closed her fingers around it, turning around once more and briskly walking towards Dr. Crane with her files still clutched to her chest with her other arm. Crane continued to hold her gaze as she approached him, and as she reached him, instead of staying where he was, he began to walk again, Y/N following alongside him with still hurried steps as she spoke.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Crane, that was my fault, not Terry’s,” she said as they made their way down the hallway. “I left my key card in the lab, and he was bringing it to me, that’s all.”

“And it took you ten minutes to take a card out of his hand?” Jonathan replied, still keeping his eyes forward. “We have a schedule to keep, Miss Y/L/N.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Swallowing somewhat nervously, Y/N glanced sideways at him. He seemed even more no-nonsense than he usually did, and while she had just defended him to Terry, Jonathan’s aura was admittedly chilly today – she could feel it coming from him, and it was beyond just being clinical. He almost seemed mad that she’d been talking to Terry. But then again, he was never what one would call “warm”, except for the very rare occasions when he’d show Y/N the slightest bit of fondness. Something she’d never seen him reveal to anyone else.

As they continued through the building and made their way to Crane’s office, they discussed some details of the latest trial for the Thiopental, Y/N thumbing through several papers while speaking. As she spoke, Jonathan was only half listening, more so occupied with the anger and jealousy he’d felt upon seeing Y/N with Hall. And even though he knew that Y/N had no interest in the man, that didn’t stop the green monster from peeping its ugly head out. Even the doctor most trained in the reasoning behind mental and emotional responses still couldn’t stop himself from getting jealous, and the fact that he knew Y/N had a loyal devotion to him didn’t make it any less anger-inducing when he saw the way Hall had looked at her. The rat had been trying to pick her up for months, and he just wouldn’t take the hint. Well, it was finally time to hammer home to both Y/N and Hall exactly who she belonged to.

Jonathan was fully aware of the secret interest Y/N had in him. He’d picked up on it almost immediately upon her employment with him. While she was very good at keeping it to herself and maintaining a professional front, Jonathan was an expert at assessing, evaluating, and teasing apart every small mannerism, tone of voice, nervous habit, trail of thought, unspoken implication, and a million other things a person might display. And while she was very work-driven and dedicated, he had still caught every stolen glance, every flush of her cheeks, bite of her lips, and inviting bit of body language from her. She’d unknowingly, unintentionally given herself away months and months ago, and Jonathan hadn’t overlooked one tiny bit of it.

He hadn’t acted upon it, though, and he’d – for the most part – maintained an extremely stoic, clinical demeanor with her; the same he offered the rest of the staff. Only rarely did he allow himself to slip slightly and express a tiny bit of affection towards her.

No; he hadn’t acted upon it — yet. Because he’d decided long ago that when he did act upon it, it would be with the knowledge and the tools to make sure she wouldn’t be able to do anything other than give in to him. She’d be open, helpless, submissive, and melting underneath every touch he gave her. That was exactly how he wanted her. That was how he’d wanted her from the start.

Normally, Jonathan was unaffected by most women. Typically, to him, they were dim, whiny, annoying, faint-hearted things that were inconvenient but ultimately necessary. Most of the women he encountered simply made his life more difficult in some way, and weren’t worth wasting his precious time or intelligence on. Sure, he had needs like any man did, but those were commonly satisfied with minimal talk and a quick fuck with a random stranger he’d meet at some psychology seminar, or an audience member at one of his lectures. He could force the charm in order to have the itch scratched, and then go back to mostly ignoring them.

But Y/N was an exception — an incredibly beautiful, innocent, intelligent, and devoted exception who had taken Jonathan by rare surprise as the first woman he’d met whom he couldn’t ignore, no matter how hard he tried. Beyond her beauty, it was her obvious, sweet innocence and warmth that was a stark contrast to his cold, calculated life. And he couldn’t let her get too friendly with anyone else, because as soon as he’d acknowledged to himself the effect she had on him, he immediately decided she’d be his. She was pure, innocent perfection who was always dying to please him, and no way would he lose this rare gem to some pathetic, average moron. No; she’d be his, and his alone.

His to corrupt, control, and break apart. Never before had the desire and the urge to possess a woman been so strong as it was with Y/N, and he wanted her to fold for him the same way he got each and every one of his patients to fold. Except with Y/N, she’d break down and surrender not from the suppressed memories Jonathan would make her recollect or the trauma she’d work through, but from the way he’d adoringly groom her perfection and desire to please while also calling out each naughty desire and secret thought she assumed he was completely oblivious to, but was, in fact, all too well aware of.

And he knew that that right there was why he was so drawn to her. A gorgeous, innocent woman he could groom and corrupt, who would hang on his every word and be naughty only for him. In Y/N, Jonathan saw the alluring contrasts in her of being so pure, yet also having such lustful, sexual desires. She was sweet yet tempting. A good girl, but with the yearning to be corrupted. It all tapped into his own exact fantasies and desires.

Of course, none of this had ever been voiced by her, but Jonathan had spent the last year analyzing everything about her, and he just knew that Y/N had a yet-to-be-tapped sexuality. He knew she was no virgin, but she also clearly had never let all her inhibitions go. And who better to help her do that than him? And their latest trial project would only help along the way. After all, as brilliant as his methods were, he had no qualms about a little liquid assistance to get her there faster.

As they entered his office, Y/N did as she always did and sat at the computer at his desk. When they were together, Jonathan rarely sat there, instead having Y/N enter information and type up notes of whatever he would dictate to her while he sat in one of the chairs opposite his desk instead. Then she’d leave to hurry off to the lab to complete whatever work he’d assigned for her there, where he’d then check on her progress later on.

“Pull up the results of the latest trial for the Thiopental,” Jonathan told Y/N after she’d situated herself in his desk chair. “I want to compare the males’ reactions versus the females’.”

Obediently, Y/N clicked through a few screens before pulling up the records Crane was asking for. But upon opening the file, Y/N noticed that the total number of participants had been lessened by one. Rather than results from one hundred individuals – fifty males and fifty females – the final line in the female column had been deleted.

“Ummm, Dr. Crane, did the results get edited recently?”

Turning from across the room, Jonathan looked at Y/N as he replied.

“Why do you ask?” he said.

“Well, there are no longer fifty female entries like there were when we first received this data,” Y/N answered him. “There are now only forty-nine.”

Walking over to where Y/N sat, Jonathan stopped beside her and leaned over the desk. Of course, he knew exactly what was going on – he’d deleted the last female entry – but he hovered over Y/N and gently but firmly laid his hand on top of hers as he gripped it and moved the computer mouse with her.

“Let’s have a look,” he said softly beside her.

Y/N’s heart was pounding and her hand was warm beneath his. With him standing this close, she could smell his cologne and feel the heat from his body. It was both unnerving and inviting, and she dared not move as he remained close, although it was taking all her strength not to turn her head into his chest.

Jonathan could sense every nerve in Y/N’s body pulsing. It was the exact reaction he expected from her, and it was clear she was both nervous and aroused. As his eyes darted to her, he could nearly feel the softness of her hair in his fingers as he’d sweep it behind her shoulder and expose her neck. That porcelain skin of hers would have a trail of goosebumps wherever he’d touch her.

After briefly scrolling through the file with her and acting somewhat surprised, Jonathan stood up and pulled back, and then Y/N finally moved again, looking at him questioningly.

“Open my emails; perhaps there’s an explanation from someone in there,” he said to her.

Doing as he said, Y/N opened his emails and quickly found one with the subject line: “Thiopental Participant Withdrawn.” Upon reading it aloud to Crane, Y/N learned that one of the female participant’s results had been discarded due to the discovery that she had consumed alcohol within an hour of her participation. That wasn’t allowed, as they wanted results from people who had no other influencers in their systems at the time of the trial.

“Does this mean the entire study will have to be discarded?” Y/N asked Jonathan after she’d finished reading the email. Little did she know that he’d composed and sent the email to himself.

“No,” Jonathan replied as he looked at her, her beautiful face looking crestfallen. “We’ll just have to collect results from a new female participant within the same parameters of all the others: non-pregnant, non-smoking, without any heart defects or complications, and a system free of any other influencers, approved by their primary physician and conducted in a controlled environment.”

Nodding, Y/N looked down at her watch, noticing that it was already nearly the time most people went home for the day.

“I can ask around the lab tomorrow if any of the female staff would be willing to do it,” she said to him. “I’m sure I can find someone.”

“I’m sure you can,” Jonathan replied then, looking at her with that rare smile that left Y/N feeling both excited and nervous. “You never let me down, Y/N.”

Blushing fiercely with a shy little smile, Y/N could only hold his eyes for a moment before she had to look down. Only on the rarest occasions would he call her “Y/N” instead of “Miss Y/L/N”, and it always had the same effect on her.

“Well, I should get to the lab then and start preparing the vials for the next trial,” she said as she pushed his chair out from the desk and stood up, her face still flushed as she closed his laptop.

“Don’t forget your key card this time,” he said to her with another rare moment of affectionate teasing.

Lifting her eyes to look at him, Y/N once again gave him that shy little smile.

“I won’t.”

•.•.•.•.•

Despite the trial only requiring one hundred vials of the Thiopental, dosing them out was time consuming work. Not only did Y/N need to transfer milliliter after milliliter of the clear liquid into one hundred empty vials with a dropper, but they each then needed to be capped, sealed, labeled and packaged with an accompanying syringe needle.

After three hours of work, she’d finally made it to the last tray of empty vials, and she sat up straighter in her stool to momentarily stretch her back and rotate her neck. She shivered beneath her lab coat, the chilly air of the sterile, empty lab offering little warmth. She was just about to resume her work when she heard the door to the lab open behind her. Turning to look over her shoulder, she saw Dr. Crane walk in, allowing the door to close behind him before he headed her way. What she didn’t realize is that he also ensured it was locked. Despite the fact that it was past 8:00 p.m. at this point, he wanted the guarantee of absolutely no interruptions.

“How’s it coming?” Jonathan asked her as he approached and then came to a stop beside her.

“Nearly finished,” Y/N replied, glancing back down to the vials before looking at Crane again.

“Well, perhaps it’s time for a little break,” he said as their eyes met once more. “I think I’ve come to a solution for our issue with the previous trial that will keep you from having to find a new participant.”

“Oh?” Y/N asked with interest, sitting up straighter in her stool. “How so?”

Looking at her intently, Jonathan spoke again.

“You can do it,” he said.

Furrowing her brow, Y/N shook her head in confusion.

“I can do what? You mean...me be the participant?” she asked in surprise.

“Yes,” Jonathan replied firmly, stepping slightly closer to her.

“But I...” Y/N began. She would never have expected Dr. Crane to suggest her being involved in this way. Wasn’t it some kind of foul for the individuals running the trial to be involved?

“But I’m involved in the study,” she continued then. “I can’t be a participant.”

“This is a study that’s simply tracking effect and reactions,” Jonathan replied, keeping his tone matter-of-fact. “There’s no issue of conflict or biases. We’re simply seeing how your body responds.”

Suddenly, Y/N’s heart began pounding. He was speaking as if he’d already decided she was going to do this, and it had her feeling nervous for some reason. Not unsafe, but just…

“I...I don’t think I should,” Y/N replied. “I mean, when would we even do this?”

“Right now,” Jonathan answered with certainty.

“Right now? But…but who’ll track the results? We have no one else here to record anything.”

Jonathan gave her an amused smile.

“I think I’m more than capable of keeping track of one woman’s responses to a single, one-time use drug, Y/N,” he said to her. “We don’t need anyone else.”

Her heart was still pounding, and she didn’t miss the fact that he used her first name again.

“I don’t have an approval from my primary physician — we have to provide that for them to consider the results valid and prove that it was done safely.”

Jonathan gave her another look.

“I’m a doctor, Y/N. I can properly administer a shot, and I can attest here and now that you are in a safe environment and are a valid participant. That is, unless you’ve suddenly become pregnant, had a pacemaker implanted, or begun smoking since you were last in my office.”

Despite her nerves, Y/N couldn’t help but release a short laugh at Jonathan’s little joke as she looked down at her lap. It was odd to see him suddenly so...casual, but it was also very appealing. Her cheeks rosy, she looked up at him through her lashes.

“No, none of those things,” she said with a shy little smile.

“Then there’s no issue. I’ll administer it to you, observe the effects, and we’ll add the results to the trial. This way, we won’t waste time finding someone else and waiting for their physician’s note.”

“I…” Y/N didn’t know how to respond. She badly wanted to appease Jonathan, but she was also nervous. The idea of being so vulnerable in front of him was nerve-wracking. Granted, he would only be keeping track of things like her pulse, blood pressure, and reflexes, but what if she accidentally said or did something embarrassing?

“You’re perfectly safe with me, Y/N,” Jonathan assured her, his tone soft. He looked in her eyes and he could see the slight uncertainty, but more so the desire to please him. Just like always.

To Y/N’s surprise, Jonathan reached out then and gently laid a hand over hers.

“You know you can trust me, don’t you?”

Looking down at his hand on hers, Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. The mood in the room had changed entirely, and she wasn’t quite sure what was happening. But she knew she could never say no to him.

“Do you trust me?” Jonathan asked as she looked back up at him.

Taking in a deep breath, Y/N pulled herself out of falling into those eyes of his and quietly answered him, her hand still beneath his.

“Yes,” she said.

Slowly smiling, Jonathan squeezed her hand.

“Good girl,” he said.

Y/N blushed fiercely at his words, feeling incredibly nervous but also giddy and pleased at his praise. Again, this was a side of him that had only ever appeared in her private fantasies, and the fact that he was suddenly looking at her the way he was felt almost surreal.

Reaching up behind her on the shelf where the leftover vials of the Thiopental from the first trial sat, Jonathan pulled one down and set it on the lab counter. He then opened the container of supplies kept beneath the shelf and retrieved an alcohol swab and some rubber gloves. Still sitting in her stool, Y/N watched his every move.

Jonathan had her right where he wanted her, and he was even more in tune than usual with every silent signal Y/N was giving off. As he placed the supplies on the counter, he looked at her again.

“Sit up on the counter,” he softly ordered her. “Then your arms will be level with mine.”

Self-consciously, Y/N shifted, trying to be as graceful as possible in the skirt she was wearing. Bracing her palms behind herself on the ledge, she then hoisted herself up from the stool onto the countertop, scooting back slightly as her legs dangled over the edge. She was now at the same level as Jonathan, and she awkwardly cleared her throat as their eyes met again.

“Let’s lift this up, shall we?” Jonathan then said to her as he reached forward for the sleeve of her lab coat and pushed it up to reveal her forearm, folding it behind the bend of her elbow.

Goosebumps immediately appeared where Jonathan’s fingers brushed her skin as he adjusted her sleeve, and Y/N blushed, not looking at him but knowing there was no way he didn’t notice her reaction.

“Will you…I mean…we’re just tracking things like my vitals, right? That’s it?” Y/N asked him quietly as she watched Jonathan put the gloves on.

“Why?” he teased her then as their eyes met again. “Keeping some secrets, are we?”

Blushing again, Y/N couldn’t speak, instead only pursing her lips as she shook her head.

“Don’t worry,” Jonathan said then, “something tells me we’ll get the answers we’re looking for.”

Y/N’s heart pounded again at his words, not even knowing how to respond. She felt the way she always felt around him, both nervous and protected, but it was magnified by about a hundred, and although his words and actions were soft, Y/N still picked up on that hint of intimidation and danger he brought her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she acknowledged the fact that she was squeezing her thighs together beneath her skirt.

He could see her pulse point at her neck jumping, and he spotted the tightening of her muscles as she squeezed her thighs together atop the counter. As he reached over her once more to grab a syringe and needle, he intentionally lingered, and he heard her inhale near his neck as he did, smiling to himself at her response to him.

Donning the rubber gloves, Jonathan then assembled the needle and syringe, then loaded it from the vial, Y/N's eyes on his every move. Setting the prepared syringe down momentarily, he then opened the packet containing the alcohol swab and then removed it, swiftly swiping it across Y/N's skin as she looked down at her arm. Goosebumps appeared again as she felt the cold piece of gauze on her skin.

Quickly disposing of the swab, Jonathan then retrieved the syringe once more, and just before bringing the needle to her skin, he gently grasped Y/N's arm with his free hand and looked at her.

"Ready?" he said, although it wasn't really a question.

Meeting his eyes, Y/N nervously bit her lip, but as she felt Jonathan gently squeeze her arm, she found herself nodding her permission.

Wincing at the sudden sting from the prick of the needle, Y/N briefly squeezed her eyes closed, but forced herself to inhale steadily as she felt the liquid enter her vein. Jonathan lifted his eyes from her arm to her face as he finished pushing the last of the dose through the syringe, and he smiled to himself once more as he knew it was now only a matter of minutes before he'd get everything out of her.

Gently retracting the needle from her arm, Jonathan placed a clean square of gauze over the site on her skin to catch any small bit of blood that may have followed, and Y/N automatically lifted her other hand to hold it there as Jonathan disposed of the syringe.

"Don't be nervous, sweetheart," Jonathan said as he saw Y/N watching him again, her face slightly pale and her nerves clearly affecting her. "You know exactly how all of this works."

Completely taken aback by the unexpected term of endearment, Y/N's heart raced again, and she felt both giddy and hazy. While it was supposed to take several minutes for the drug to reach full effect, she'd had no idea how quickly it would begin taking over her system. She already felt somewhat like she was functioning in slow motion, but with Jonathan's unexpected affection, her heart was still pounding like crazy.

"We'll just give that a minute to take full effect," he said then, very nonchalantly.

Still speechless, Y/N watched as he opened a cabinet off to the side and pulled out a pulse oximeter and electronic blood pressure cuff. Preparing to use each of them, Jonathan then shifted again and stood directly in front of her, and Y/N lifted her head to meet his eyes.

"How do you feel?" he asked her, the clinical tone back in his voice.

It took her a moment before she could respond, the words taking their time to travel from her brain to her lips.

"Slow," she said simply as she looked back at him. "Everything feels slow."

Nodding, Jonathan picked up the items he'd retrieved from the cabinet. He spoke as he placed the oximeter on her finger. Although he had no real intention of tracking any of this, he wanted to give her another minute to absorb everything. After the oximeter beeped with her numbers, he placed the blood pressure cuff on her wrist.

"How about now?" Jonathan lifted his eyes from the display on the cuff to Y/N's gaze. "Your heart's racing. Not common, seeing as this typically causes the opposite effect on heart rate. What's got you so nervous, hmm?"

Y/N felt somewhat cloudy, still fully functional, but once again in almost a slow motion way, as if everything she thought and did took twice as long. After registering his question, she answered Jonathan with the first thing that came to her mind.

"You," she said simply.

Jonathan smiled, giving her a look that only intensified her pulse, and he then reached up and removed his glasses, placing them in the breast pocket of his blazer.

"Me?" he questioned her teasingly. "Do I make you nervous, Y/N?"

"Yes," she answered after a beat, still looking at him. She found that if she tried to turn her head too fast, it made her feel woozy.

"Hmm," said Jonathan, and then he reached down and slowly unstrapped the cuff from her wrist.

Thoughtlessly lowering her arm, Y/N took another deep breath, feeling her pulse in her veins.

"Let's just start with the typical questions," Jonathan said then, and although he'd told her they'd only be monitoring her vitals and outward reactions, Y/N had no ability or desire to stop him from asking her anything.

"Tell me your full name and date of birth," Crane said as he looked at her. After a moment's beat, Y/N responded with the (obviously) correct answers.

"And what's your home address?"

Again, she rattled off the information after a second's pause.

"Now tell me, how long have you worked for me?" Jonathan said then, his tone changing slightly.

"Just over a year," Y/N replied, and then she noticed somewhere in the back of her mind that she was beginning to feel very hot.

"Right. And for how long of that year have you had sexual thoughts about me, Y/N?"

Despite her body heat, Y/N could feel her face suddenly blanching, but as she processed his question, there was only one possible outcome: the truth.

"The entire time," she said, and she felt the blush creep back over her skin as the words left her mouth.

"Are you surprised that I just asked you that question?" Jonathan asked then, that smile of certainty taking over his face again.

"Yes," Y/N answered, her heart skipping a beat as she saw him smile. She was now fully aware that she was powerless to say anything but the truth.

Reaching out to her then, Jonathan gently laid a palm on Y/N's thigh and slowly slid it up her leg, over the fabric of her skirt. Then their eyes met again.

"You thought I didn't know, didn't you?" he affectionately teased her, his voice soft and his gaze intense as he looked at her. Somehow, his entire aura was contradictorily both soothing and intimidating, and Y/N's breath hitched in her throat as he stepped even closer.

Automatically, and feeling somewhat hazy, she spread her legs to allow Jonathan to stand between them, and as he did, he reached up and gently grasped her chin, stroking it with his thumb as he looked down at her. Nervously, Y/N's eyes kept darting between his eyes and his lips, her heart pounding and her body flushed as he spoke again.

"Trust me, sweetheart, I knew. I've known all along."

His affectionate words and his touch once again caused Y/N's heart to race, and she felt both embarrassed and helpless, but also immediately aroused.

"I'm sorry," she heard herself say suddenly, and Jonathan, still grasping her chin, looked at her with that unnerving affection.

"Sorry for what?"

"For thinking about you like that," she said. "I tried not to."

Chuckling, Jonathan released her chin, instead planting each of his palms on top of her thighs.

"You don't have to apologize, sweetheart," he spoke soothingly, giving a small shake of his head. "After all, why apologize for something we both want?"

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked, and she felt a dampness forming in her panties as Jonathan squeezed her thighs.

"You're quite the little eye-catcher yourself, Y/N," he responded. "I've spent the last year watching every move you make, every look and unspoken hint. And never before has anyone caught my attention quite like you."

Floored at this admission, Y/N could only say one thing.

"Really?"

Chuckling again, Jonathan leaned in closer to her.

"Isn't that what you were always hoping to hear?" he asked her.

Her eyes quickly darting to his lips, Y/N then responded.

"Yes," she answered him. "I wanted to be perfect for you. I wanted you to want me."

Immediately, Jonathan's cock twitched in his pants at her admission. Despite know this information already, nothing beat hearing it come straight from her lips.

"And is that still what you want now?" he pushed her.

She nodded her head.

"Yes."

Smiling again, Jonathan pulled back from her slightly, noting the heat radiating from her body.

"You're burning up," he said as his eyes dropped to the buttons on her lab coat.

"I'm hot," she confirmed mindlessly.

"I can see that," Jonathan replied.

"Is that bad?" she asked, concern momentarily replacing the desirous look on her face.

"It's expected," Jonathan dismissed with a shake of his head. "Your body's trying to compensate for the delayed response signals by sending blood through your system more quickly."

"I'm hot," she repeated dumbly, unable to comprehend enough of what Jonathan had said, as her brain was processing everything slower.

"We can take care of that," Jonathan replied, and he reached up and began undoing the buttons on her lab coat. He intentionally went slowly, savoring the moment of finally undressing her as he'd imagined a million times.

After her coat was open, Jonathan reached up again and slipped his hands underneath the shoulders, slowly pushing it off her and down her arms. Silently, Y/N turned her head and watched as his hands pushed the coat off her body. But instead of stopping there, Jonathan then lifted his hands once more and hovered them over the buttons of her blouse.

"Should we take this off, too?" he asked her — again, less so for permission and more so just to hear her response.

"Yes," she replied, and nodded her head.

As Jonathan worked at the new set of buttons, the porcelain skin of Y/N's chest and the lace of her black bra was gradually revealed, causing Jonathan's cock to stiffen further.

“Have you thought about me undressing you before, Y/N?”

She could feel his cool fingertips grazing her skin as he worked down her chest.

“Yes,” she replied. Her heart was pounding and her nipples stiffening at his question.

“And when you think about that, how does it make you feel?”

Of course, there was still nothing she could do but tell the truth. As badly as her mind wanted to come up with an answer that wouldn't embarrass her, she couldn't form the fib; she could only voice facts.

"Excited," she replied, "but nervous, too. I like to think about it."

"What else do you like to think about?" Jonathan urged her as he undid the last button on her blouse. Y/N's face flushed again as she answered him.

"You kissing me and touching me. I think about having sex with you and what it would be like."

"And do you enjoy those thoughts?" Jonathan placed his palms back on her thighs, her blouse hanging open.

"Yes," she replied.

"Why?"

"Because I like you. You're so handsome and sexy. You make me feel safe but scared at the same time. I like that. I think about what you'll do to me."

"And what do you think I'll do to you? Tell me."

Again, Y/N was helpless to anything but the truth.

"You'll kiss me. Touch me everywhere. I think about your hands on my breasts. Or your lips on me. You'll put your fingers inside me and then your cock. You'll pull my hair or spank me. You'll fuck me and make me come. Then you'll come inside me."

After each mini declaration she made, Jonathan's cock stiffened further. Lifting his hands to her shoulders once more, he slipped under her blouse and pushed it off her, fully revealing inch after inch of her flawless skin, enhanced by the contrast of her feminine, lacy black bra. Her breasts molded perfectly to the cups and he could see her hardened nipples through the material.

"And how about if I tell you to do something? Would you do it?" Jonathan prompted her.

"Yes," Y/N said.

"You want to please me, don't you, Y/N? Make me happy with you? Do anything I say?"

"Yes."

"You just want to be my good little girl, don't you?"

"Yes," Y/N nodded at that, feeling her body flush again. "I want to be yours."

Lifting his hands to her face, Jonathan cradled Y/N's cheeks in his palms and looked in her eyes as he spoke.

"Oh, I want that, too, sweetheart," he said. "And we can make that happen. Would you like me to fuck you right now?"

Y/N nodded again, having a hard time believing this was actually happening. "Yes."

Lowering one hand from her face and moving the other lower, he grasped her chin again and held her eyes as he spoke.

"You're going to be a good girl for me, Y/N. You're going to let me do everything to you that I want. You're going to show me how much you enjoy it. You belong to me now, do you understand that?"

"Yes," Y/N replied, her heart pounding at Jonathan's words. Unintentionally, she slightly arched her back, subtly pushing her chest out towards him.

Jonathan smiled again.

"So eager," he cooed. "You've been mine all along, haven't you?"

"Yes; always," Y/N said.

At that, Jonathan lifted his hands once more and reached behind her, making quick work of opening her bra clasp. As the garment loosened around her, he traced his fingers up her arms and hooked them under her straps, hesitating for a moment as he savored her reaction.

"Shall we take this off?" he teased her.

"Yes," she answered quickly, her voice sounding desperate. "Please!"

Jonathan shook his head with another smile.

"Always so well-mannered. My good girl."

Pulling the bra from her chest, Jonathan dropped it to the floor and his eyes were glued to her breasts. They were plump, pert perfection, her nipples hardened from equally both arousal and the chill of the cold, sterile laboratory.

"Do you want my hands on you, Y/N?" he asked her, his palms already only centimeters away from touching her.

"Yes," she nodded fervently.

Immediately, Jonathan cupped her breasts, squeezing her flesh as it filled his hands and stroking her eager nipples with his thumbs. With every swipe along her buds, Y/N released a tiny gasp, arching into his touch.

"You like that, don't you?" Jonathan asked her as he lifted his eyes to hers. He could feel his cock straining against his pants as he watched her arch into him again.

"Yes," she replied. "I don't want you to stop."

Jonathan shook his head.

"Oh, we're not stopping until I have you coming, sweetheart," he said to her soothingly. "That's what you want, isn't it? For me to make you come?"

"Yes," she replied, and she squeezed her thighs together again.

"Then let's make that happen."

HIs hands still on her breasts, Jonathan leaned forward and pressed his lips to Y/N's, her eyes fluttering closed as he came closer. As soon as his lips came in contact with hers, she released an audible sigh with a little whimper, and when Jonathan stroked her nipples again as their lips moved together, she leaned into him even more.

He started off gentle, but soon, Jonathan was kissing her with more aggression, the sounds of her desirous desperation and her needy reaction spurring him on. After a moment, he felt her squirming beneath him, and he pulled back to look at her.

"What is it?" he asked her.

"I..." Y/N blushed again. "I want to touch you."

Jonathan smiled.

"Then touch me," he said, then leaned in again and connected their lips once more.

Whimpering again, Y/N lifted hers arms to Jonathan's neck, wrapping them around his shoulders as she scooted closer to him. Her bare breasts rubbed against the scratchy fabric of his blazer, and as she leaned into him, Jonathan lowered his hands to her hips and pulled her to the edge of the counter. Her fingers hovering over the nape of his neck, she suddenly tangled them in his hair and tugged in surprise as she felt Jonathan squeeze her hips.

Pulling away from her once more, Jonathan grabbed the fabric of her skirt and slowly began pushing it up her thighs, watching her every reaction as he did so.

"Let's see just how excited you are," he said. He then pushed her skirt the final inches to bunch it up around her hips, revealing her smooth thighs and the black panties clothing her pretty little mound.

"Spread your legs for me, sweetheart," Jonathan ordered her, and she obediently responded, parting her thighs fully to reveal herself. The subtle yet obvious patch where her arousal had temporarily stained the fabric of her panties darker immediately causing another smirk to cross Jonathan's face.

"So wet, aren't you?" he affectionately teased her. "So wet and so ready." He hovered his fingers over her. "Do you want my fingers, Y/N?"

Her breath hitched slightly before she answered.

"Yes," she said in a breathy reply. "I want them inside me."

Slowly, Jonathan skimmed his fingertips over the fabric of her panties, eliciting a whimper and a thrust of her hips as Y/N felt him touch her. He then lifted his fingers to the hem of her panties and hooked them inside. Instinctively, Y/N briefly lifted herself off the counter to allow him to remove them, but then her mind was completely blank when she suddenly felt Jonathan's fingers delve inside her dripping folds.

"Ohhhhh," she moaned, and her hips thrusted again as Jonathan curled his fingers inside her, the lewd sounds of her wetness accenting the air as he began pumping his fingers in and out of her.

Her pussy was soft, pink perfection, and Jonathan curled his fingers again as she moaned over and over.

"You're not just wet; you're soaking," he said to her, his cock now rock hard as he watched his fingers moving in and out of her. Whining again, Y/N grasped the edge of the counter with her hands and slightly leaned back, pushing her lower half closer to Jonathan, seeking more of his touch.

"Such a needy girl, aren't you?" Jonathan said. "You want more, don't you?"

"Yes," she nodded, her face twisting in pleasure as Jonathan pumped his fingers faster. "More." She was panting now.

"Wait until my cock is inside you, sweetheart; you'll take it so well. You're going to let me fuck you, aren't you?"

"Yes," Y/N answered, her pussy clamping around his fingers. When Jonathan curled them inside her once more and moved his index finger back and forth, an embarrassingly loud moan escaped her, the pleasure incredible as he hit that spot inside her.

"Tonight, I'll take you right here, but next time, you'll be bent over my desk," Jonathan said to her as he withdrew his fingers from inside her and swiped his thumb over her clit instead, eliciting another loud moan from her. "This pussy is mine now, to take whenever and wherever I want. Do you understand me, Y/N?"

"Yes!" she cried out desperately as he swiped her clit again. Her head was still slightly foggy, and Jonathan's words had her ready to do anything he said. Her heart was racing as she met his eyes.

"You pretend to be so proper, but you're a naughty girl," Jonathan said. "I've known it all along, and we're finally going to see just how naughty you can be. Tonight, we'll take it easy, but next time, we'll see how far we can push you. I think you'll like that, won't you, sweetheart?"

"Yes!" Y/N cried again, Jonathan's thumb repeatedly circling her clit having her eyes practically rolling to the back of her head.

"You sound like a broken record, you know that?" Jonathan said then. "So pathetic." He ceased his ministrations then, and at the loss of his touch, Y/N was practically crying.

"Jonathan..." she breathed out in need, feeling so delirious that she didn't even realize she'd said his first name, which she'd never done before. "Jonathan, please!"

At the sound of his name falling from her mouth in that desperate, whiny voice, Jonathan was moving his hands to his belt, unfastening it and opening his pants, the clinking sound of the buckle sounding louder than it actually was in the otherwise empty lab. He then reached out and grasped Y/N's wrist, pulling her hand to his briefs and slipping her hand inside, guiding her to palm his bulging cock.

"Please, what?" he said as he held her hand in place. "Is this what you want, Y/N? Do you want my cock?"

"Yes!"

"Where do you want it, sweetheart? Tell me."

"I want it inside me. I want to feel you fill me."

Feeling the heat of Jonathan's stiff cock, all she could think about was having him fuck her, and she knew that she would forever do whatever he told her as long as she could feel him inside her.

"Oh, I'm going to fill you, alright," Jonathan replied then, roughly pulling her closer again and hovering his mouth over hers as he spoke. "I'm going to fuck you, over and over again. You're going to take everything I give you, do anything I tell you to, and you're going to be my good little girl. Always."

Jonathan caught the obedient little nod Y/N gave just before he connected their lips again, and as he did, he raised a hand to grasp one of her breasts again, massaging her and pinching her nipple before doing the same to her other breast, and then moving his mouth to her neck, sucking her flesh and following it with a soft kiss.

"Jonathan..." she breathed again.

"Are you ready for my cock, sweetheart?" he said to her. "I think you are."

"Yes!" she said again for what felt like the hundredth time that night, and Y/N felt her wetness nearly ready to drip from her folds as she heard Jonathan draw himself out of his briefs. But her weeping pussy was then immediately met with the feel of his hot tip prodding her entrance, and she whimpered again.

"You're so ready," she heard Jonathan say, and then she was suddenly momentarily thoughtless from the insane pleasure of his cock slamming inside her.

"Ahhhhhh!" she cried out, feeling like she was being split in two as Jonathan's hips became flush with her inner thighs. She desperately reached up and grasped the lapels of his blazer, the stars in her vision slowly disappearing as she continued to adjust to the feeling of him inside her.

"Ohhh, fuck, sweetheart," Jonathan groaned as he felt her walls clamp needily around his shaft. She milked him without even trying, and he immediately began thrusting in and out of her, unable to go slow any longer.

"Oh, God!" Y/N panted as she gripped his jacket tighter, instinctively wrapping her legs around Jonathan's waist as he began to move in and out of her. She clamped around him with each thrust, and she felt his fingers digging into her hips as she began to meet each of his thrusts with a rutting of her hips.

"That's my girl," Jonathan said roughly as he continued to fuck her. "You're taking me so well."

Her chest was heaving, and Jonathan was having a hard time deciding where to focus his eyes — on her beautiful breasts bouncing with each thrust, on her plump, parted lips as she gasped again and again, or on the sight of his thick cock slamming in and out of her drenched pussy. But he relished in knowing that he'd now have countless opportunities to see each of these delicious sights again and again. He'd fuck her silly before he'd ever have enough.

In the future, Jonathan would draw everything out, make her squirm, whine, and downright beg for release. But tonight, he'd make it easy on her, to show her just how good he could make her feel...if she earned it.

Returning his thumb to her clit, he again stroked her over and over, and as he watched her face beautifully contort in pleasure again, he grabbed a fistful of her hair with his free hand, tugging it roughly enough to force her to look at him, her eyes widening in surprise and mild pain as his pull on her strands stung her scalp, causing her to whimper again.

"Do you want me to make you come, Y/N?" Jonathan asked her as she met his eyes.

"Yes! Please!" She thrusted her own hips into his once more, seeking what he was offering her. "And...and..." she couldn't think anymore.

"What?"Jonathan asked her. "Say it, Y/N."

She clamped around him again.

"And I want you to come inside me."

Jonathan gave her a devilish smile.

"Oh, sweetheart, that was happening whether you asked or not," he replied. "You're going to take every last drop from me."

Her heart racing, Y/N nodded obediently once more, and with a final, sloppy kiss between them, Jonathan then resumed his previous pace, fucking her hard and fast as he alternated between stroking her clit and pinching her nipples.

With every touch and thrust, Y/N could feel herself unravelling more and more, and she reached up and desperately gripped Jonathan's shoulders as she felt herself nearing the edge.

"I...I...Jonathan, I..."

"Are you close, sweetheart?" he urged her.

"Yes," she panted.

Jonathan once more pulled her closer, his hands on her hips like a death grip as he prepared to bring her over the edge and finish inside her.

"You're going to come now, Y/N," he commanded her.

In a final push of thrusts and strokes, Jonathan had her mewling in desperation, and when he lowered his mouth to her neck and nipped her skin as he thumbed her a final time, he felt her suddenly clamp around him with insane tightness as a high-pitched squeal escaped her and her body tensed.

Her eyes squeezing shut and her heart pounding in her ears, Y/N was once again thoughtless, only registering her reactions and responses to how Jonathan fucked her with intention, and when he commanded her in that voice and bit at her neck, she was gone. As his thumb stroked her a final time through her wetness, she came with an uncontrollable squeal, gripping his shoulders so tightly that her knuckles were white against the fabric of his jacket.

Hearing her desperately pleasured whine, Jonathan let himself go, pounding into her with determination until he himself was coming, releasing inside her with rope after rope of cum, imagining each bit of his release painting her walls and marking his territory as he finished inside her, hearing her still panting against him as he groaned deeply.

Eventually, the sounds between them lessened, and finally, Jonathan pulled himself out of her as Y/N's hands slipped from his shoulders, whimpering a final time as she felt him leave her body. After tucking himself back inside his briefs, Jonathan fastened his pants again and re-buckled his belt before looking up at Y/N, who still sat on the counter before him, slightly shivering with her naked chest still exposed and her legs still spread, her bare pussy leaking with his cum.

When Y/N lifted her eyes to meet his, Jonathan reached up and stroked her cheek before he spoke again.

"It shouldn't be long now before the effects fully wear off," he said, reaching for her lab coat on the counter, picking it up and encouraging her to slip her arms through the sleeves as he helped her put it back on, never minding about her discarded bra or blouse. He buttoned it for her before then lowering his fingers to her pussy and pushing his escaping cum back inside her. Y/N's thighs quivered as his fingers briefly entered her again.

"Once you're feeling back to normal, I want you to go home," he continued softly. "Don't wash yourself until the morning. Then I want you to come straight to my office tomorrow, and I want you wearing nothing but that lab coat. Do you understand?"

Pressing her thighs together, Y/N silently nodded, her heart still pounding.

"Good girl," Jonathan said, and he stroked her cheek one more time before leaning closer once more.

"You'll always be my good girl, won't you?" he said to her, already knowing her response.

"Yes," Y/N breathed out, nodding slowly. "Always."

With a satisfied nod, Jonathan leaned forward a final time, placing a soft kiss on Y/N's lips before backing away. Then he turned and walked out of the lab, Y/N looking after him as she slowly began to feel like herself again, but with a renewed desirous anticipation, wondering just exactly what Jonathan had in mind for her next.

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KINKTOBER IS HERE WHERE ARE THE SLUTTIEST MOST FILTHY CILLIAN MURPHY FICS I'M READY

Tommy Shelby - Peaky Blinders S3E3

Got another complaint so I’m just gonna post this for reblogging purposes. Feel free to use.

Cillian Murphy In Anthropoid (2016)

THE EDGE OF DARKNESS

Thomas Shelby x Stepdaughter!Reader

Warnings: taboo, DARK!, smut

A/N: The song mentioned in the fic is "Till Death Do Us Part" By Peter Gundry. This fic is for Halloween, and there will be a few more dark ones. Enjoy.

Inspired by @majortom1947 request

His focus drifted away once again, almost driving him mad. Tommy slowly let go of the pen he held in his tense hand, dropping it on the stack of documents that sat firmly on the dark desk. The room was filled with nothing but quiet sounds of glass meeting wood every few minutes, as the stocky bottle of whiskey emptied in an impressive time. His usually calm and steady breath hitched in his throat followed by an exhale, making him sound almost like a martyr.

Wide, intimidating silhouette of a strong man behind the desk wouldn't give it away, but his head felt heavy, yet was spinning with the troubles burdened upon his shoulders. His wife's harsh words rang loudly in his ears causing nothing but annoyance and burning frustration under his skin. As the time passed between his fingers, loose as sand, the reason for their marriage faded so successively, he could barely remember it. She couldn't be further away from his idea for a perfect or even remotely good wife, but he did what he had to. Like always. Her Romani upbringing and a tight bond with the Gold family left him with little to no choice after Arthur refused to take this responsibility upon himself.

When it came to heavy weights, it was always left for Tommy to handle. Fucking always.

Letting out a deep breath, Thomas leaned back in his comfortable seat, popping a few buttons of his shirt open, as he carelessly tossed his red tie aside. In the comfort of his office, Tommy let his mind wander towards the thoughts so unwanted and forbidden, they rarely were present outside of his space. Knowing his own weakness, Thomas ground his teeth for a short moment at the realisation of how his control started slipping away. The farther down the rabbit hole his brain went, the stronger the burning bothered him.

After years of letting his manly urges slowly starve to death, dealing with the humiliation and frustration that came with being married to a woman so insufferable, she managed to kill his sex drive, THE thought didn't come unnoticed.

At first, it came and went. The next time it happened, Thomas’ eyes wandered to HER pale legs for a little too long before blinking the infatuation away. After that point… he lost count. He was only a man, after all.

Squeezing the bridge of his nose, Tommy breathed in deeply, silently cursing out the headaches he's been dealing with lately. Tommy imagined the smoke from his cigarette filling his body with hope of cleansing him from all thoughts of Y/N.

The hope died pretty quickly, as it tended to happen for people like him: people stained with burdening responsibilities and the weight of the world on their back.

As her image simmered behind his closed eyelids, his brows furrowed in worry.

What a beautiful distraction she was. A forbidden fruit, an evil snake from the depths of Eden, poking on his self-control and morals, whispering unacceptable yet impossibly beautiful ideas straight into his ear, driving the poor man mad. Leaving him burning hot and yearning for her touch. She tempted him with her beauty everyday for the last year. Her beautiful, innocent eyes, which looked nothing like her mother's. Her eyes weren’t tainted by greed and the dark shadow of death, which surely came from years of living in Birmingham. Lurking for people at every turn.

Y/N was different. She was raised away from dingy cities, in fields and forests, travelling from town to town with her father and rest of the family. Y/N lived far away from her sad excuse of a mother, yet still ended up having to suffer her presence once Patrick Y/L/N lost his battle to cancer. Not even the strongest of Romani spells could stand a chance against a body leaning so hard towards the path of self-destruction.

That's how she ended up here, at Arrow House with a disgraceful mother and stepfather who was barely present and silently pining after her.

The sweet girl grew to trust him, after several months of avoiding him.

Thomas didn't mind it at the beginning. He had no interest in fathering an adult whom he was closer with in age than with his own wife.

Y/N soon learned after moving to Arrow House that her mother had little to no interest in getting to know her, at any level that matters. The important thing was to present herself well in front of people, the audience, as she liked to call them. The audience watched every move of the Shelby family quite carefully. If Marilyn Shelby was anything more than shallow, it was definitely demanding. For peace, Thomas had no issues in letting her spend his money left and right, as long as it kept her mouth shut. With practically nobody left to trust, Y/N started appreciating Tommy's presence, even if it was entirely silent.

That's how the first two months passed. They lived their lives around each other without more than a few words when necessary, yet his presence became associated with peace and safety in her inexperienced mind. His stillness and calm, husky voice was a source of much needed comfort.

With each passing day, her trust grew as she let the guard down, Y/N’s body language clearly changed, not going unnoticed to Tommy’s bright knowing eyes

Suddenly, a loud knock on the door echoed throughout the spacious room, violently ripping Thomas’ hazy mind out of the infatuating thoughts.

“Tommy?” He heard from the door, and his head turned to face her. There she stood, barefoot, wrapped in a robe at least two sizes too big for her thin frame. Her long hair flowed down her back. Y/N’s intense gaze left him burning again, as Thomas cleared his throat.

“Come in, angel” He let out, his eyes grazing over her skin. He was braver than usual, the alcohol in his bloodstream made it more difficult to keep his painful desire hidden.

Without a thought, Y/N closed the door behind her back, making her way through the office, slumping on the chair in front of his desk. Her eyes were absent, not meeting his gaze even once as she silently looked around his desk. “What's burdening your mind?” His voice cut the air like a knife, making her finally look at him.

Y/N’s big eyes seemed teary, making his heart stop for a second as he sat up straighter in the armchair. When his brows furrowed impatiently, the dam broke and quiet sobs pushed past her lips.

Watching her slowly break apart, Thomas ran a hand through his hair before getting up and rounding the desk, eventually taking his place on the edge of it. Leaning down, his rough hand came to rest on her shoulder. He wanted nothing but to feel her close and now was a perfect occasion.

Upon feeling his touch, Y/N suddenly rose from her seat, stepped forward, and wrapped her arms around his core, seeking comfort. This Tommy did not expect.

His breath hitched and his brain was barely able to process the heat of her body pressed to his own. He trembled slightly and hoped she wouldn’t notice. A couple moments later he embraced her carefully, like she was made of porcelain, able to be shattered into a million pieces if held too tightly.

“She… She said it's over. That I've lived here long enough to figure out my life without depending on her—your money.” Her voice was quiet, fragile even. The genuine fear and urgency she held him with, made Tommy's heart beat faster. His other hand came to rest on the back of her head, petting it slowly as she continued at her own pace. “I’m… I'm not ready but—but I know she's right, I shouldn't… be here that long.” Y/N kept mumbling as her forehead pressed into his shirt covered collarbone. His hands’ movement came to a stop at her words. Tommy slowly peeled her away as his fingers grasped her chin. His gaze fell to her soft pink lips and he immediately regretted it as his mouth went dry for a second. Regaining his composure, he spoke.

“Angel, your home is here. You're not going anywhere anytime soon, and your mother is… not in charge. Not under my roof, eh?” His voice was deep, a little too deep for his liking even, as Tommy tried to light up the mood slightly. Not wanting her to see the way his pupils dilated seeing her so close. The way his breathing got deeper, chest raising and falling visibly. Her lips just a small reach away, tempting him like never before. The stirring in his lower stomach made it difficult to think, but Tommy knew one thing for sure, and it was that he wouldn't let her leave. Not his Angel.

~~

The next couple days Thomas tried to spend more time at home than in his office, knowing how Y/N needed him to be around. The more time they spent around each other, the less guilt he felt.

He liked it. He liked looking with desire, and not feeling burdened with guilt. Looking in her eyes during the late nights spent in his office, slumped in the chair which she called hers already.

And he? He didn't mind, not one bit. Deep down, he thought about it more than he should have. Even if she felt like calling HIM her own, Tommy wouldn't mind.

Driving back home, the gravelly road scritched under the heavy weight of his car, small turbulence in the cabin making no difference, as he barely paid attention to the road.

Only when the high, black fence started showing from around the corner, he forced himself to focus. Taking the right turn, smoothly getting on his property. The shaking of the car fading into oblivion as the gravel road turned into expensive tiles by the mansion.

He thought he had more time to solve the issue, Thomas thought, as a suitcase fell out of the window, missing his Bentley by less than ten inches.

Eyeing the mess, he mentally prepared himself for what to expect after crossing the entrance. Grabbing his suitcase, he swiftly got out of the car, quickly making his way to the door before getting inside. The screaming and Marilyn's high pitched, dramatic voice could be heard even before he opened the door.

Without a second thought, he climbed the stairs as the two women came into the view. Marilyn held tightly onto her daughter's hair, pulling down clearly, judging from Y/N’s pained expression as she sobbed.

“Enough!” Thomas boomed, quickly grabbing onto his wife's wrist, his rough, calloused hand squeezing so tightly it surely would leave bruises. The older woman gasped, pulling her hand back as she took a step back. Her eyes narrowed as soon as her eyes fell on his face, gazing with contempt and anger.

“This little whore stole my pearls! I found them in her room!” She growled, clutching the jewellery close to her chest as she tried to lunge forward again, stopped by Tommy's broad chest. “If I see her in this house by tomorrow, I'm going to put her down like a bloody dog, Thomas! Tomorrow!” She kept yelling, but he could still hear the quiet sobbing from the woman behind him. Y/n cried, holding onto her scalp that burned hellishly. Bruises on her face already getting darker while heavy tears decorated her beautiful face one after the other with no end.

Tommy's blood boiled, veins on his neck protruding from the heated anger he felt deep inside. His self-control ran thin as his hands shook with the urge.

“Y/N, go to your room.” He instructed, in a demanding voice. One of his hands sneaked back to give her small fingers a knowing squeeze. Feeling it, she nodded, wiping her tears away as she slowly let go of the material from the back of his coat.

Marilyn's cold, green eyes followed after her daughter, contempt and hatred visible. She hated how much attention she stole from Tommy ever since appearing in Arrow house. She hated how much money he kept spending on her.

Marilyn felt robbed, like it all belonged to her.

Jealousy rushed through her veins, even though her heart was stone cold. No feelings for Thomas Shelby were held, but she claimed rights to him nevertheless. After all, It was impossible to love people like him anyway, right? Marilyn thought.

Her hand met his cheek with a loud slap, as she took a step forward. Looking him in the eyes she felt the upper hand.

“You think I'm fucking stupid? Don't you think I see the way you look at this little whore?” She hissed with poison, her red smeared lipstick making her look even less approachable than usually. “If I see her here in the morning, all Birmingham will know about your perverted urges.” She finished with a whisper, her shaky hand petting his cheek mockingly, not caring about the way he… watched her. Blue colour long gone, replaced by the deep shade of the night sky.

Only then her heart skipped a beat as she realised she took a step too far. Shallow breath pushing past her lips. Eyes widened with confusion, pierced with fear as blood ran cold.

But it was too late.

“Goodnight, Marilyn”

~~

Y/N lay in her bed, clock ticking in the background, reminding her of how late it was. Darkness swallowing every inch of the room besides a small stream of light coming through the window from the street lamp. Heart thumping in her chest the only sound she could hear… before the music started playing. The melody grew louder, the familiar rhythm echoing upstairs coming from the gramophone standing in the corner of the corridor. A song she knew all too well after spending many quiet nights in Thomas' office. Note by note the tension increased with the tempo of the piano playing, coming to a peak as the door creaked open, barely noticeable in the dark.

Her eyes, used to the darkness already, noticed the flash of blue irises and the silhouette she knew too well. Breath hitched in her throat with each step he took.

Second by second, note by note. When the song abruptly came to a halt, his hands touched her face. His face hovered over her own, lips so close she could see every detail.

“Tommy” She breathed out softly, but before Y/N could continue, the song resounded again, almost like urging him to move faster. The tension broke, tearing a painfully deep sigh from his throat as his chapped lips pressed against her own. Y/N’s eyes squeezed shut, taken aback by the boldness of his actions. Her lack of experience creeping up her spine, causing anxiety but Thomas didn't give her enough space to dwell on the details. Crushing all of them with his touch, touching each and every inch of her soft skin with his calloused hands, causing some discomfort which he immediately softened with kisses. Music in the background seemed to set the pace, and as the thempo increased, his touch grew impatient.

“We—We can't” She managed to whisper, even though her throat was dry with a need she didn't understand.

“It's just us, angel. Me and you” He growled, his eyes holding the wilderness he was unable to hold back after all this time. His body tense and firm like a statue, as he kept moulding her flesh to his liking… and she let him, because Y/N didn't know any better. She didn't want to know any better.

Some sudden sounds kept piercing the music, catching Y/N’s attention for a millisecond before he'd make her forget again, touching and pulling needily. Soon enough her body was bare for him to take. Greedy eyes taking in every detail he could see in the dark, swallowing every sound from her mouth, stroking her womanhood skillfully, wanting nothing but to worship every soft, welcoming inch of her perfect heat.

“Just me and you” He echoed, grabbing both of her wrists and pinning them softly above her head, taking control of her along with the situation.

Music seemed to be never ending, as he slipped into her body, stretching and pushing his way into the space he claimed for himself only. Her innocence taken away so abruptly and harshly, yet she never felt so loved and wanted before.

“Tommy, I–” She moaned, head lifting off the bed to find his lips, which he immediately understood, giving into every need and every urge.

Spending all the strength he had to give her time, and not let the animalistic urges take over fully, as she needed… guidance.

“I know” he responded, moving slowly, feeling as she successively accepted his cock, relaxing into his arms and whimpering beautifully.

He was patient, slow and understanding… until he couldn't anymore, moving increasingly faster and harder, his hands squeezing her wrists a little too tight but they were both lost. Lost in the forbidden dance led by the embers smouldering in their chests, intensified by the music they both heard. Tangled in the forbidden, breathtakingly beautiful dance.

Y/N let him paw at her skin needily, pushing into her deep and fast, taking everything he needed. Lost in the experience and in the intense being that Thomas Shelby was.

Maybe if she was just a little less gone, a little more meticulous, she'd notice the dark red stains on his shirt.

The raw obsession in his touch ever since he held her for the first time so innocently. The metallic scent of blood on his skin.

Tommy couldn't let anything and anyone separate them, after all.

Devil and his angel.

— roach-works

TOMMY SHELBY

The Edge Of Darkness

DANCE WITH ME, SHELBY

WHAT YOU'RE MADE FOR

Better late than ever

Just another of your mistakes part two part three

part four

—I'D COME BACK TO YOU

CAN YOU HEAR ME SCREAMING? — please don't leave me

MORE GRATEFUL THAN THIS

TASTE OF SHAME part two part three part four

WHEN I TOUCH HER

CRAWLING BACK TO YOU

LOVE YOU WITH MY EYES CLOSED

ROBERT FISCHER

Lost On You

Part 1

RAYMOND LEON

Not Now, Not Ever

Part 1

EVERY INCH OF YOU

JACKSON RIPPNER

UNTIL YOU COME BACK HOME

WICKED GAMES

NEIL LEWIS

EMMETT

JONATHAN CRANE

CILLIAN MURPHY

CILLIAN MURPHY MASTERLIST

DAMON SALVATORE MASTERLIST (coming soon)

COMMENT TO BE TAGGED IN EVERYTHING

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Reblog if you want Asks/Messages from your followers in your inbox

I will remove anyone from my life to protect the peace that I've worked so hard for. Nobody took me out of the dark. I did it on my own.

Unknown

i hope you write (i hope we both write)

Can I get a request for Cillian Murphy? Angst, smut, fluff, I'm open to suggestions!

You Broke Me First

part 31

Zoe opened the front door and let Scout trot in first, breathing a sigh of relief as the cool air from the house hit her hot sweaty skin.

She thought it was a good idea to take scout on a run. she didn’t check the weather prior; it was NOT a good idea.

it was 2pm and she hadn’t heard from Cillian all day, besides the text she woke up to from him saying he was awake and on his way go set. She also checked her email religiously, hoping to see the schedule from Hannah, but nothing yet.

She hopped in the shower and changed into leggings and a t-shirt she stole from Cillian's drawer. She had big plans of sitting in the kitchen and finishing up some articles, as well as attempting to eat something. She was nauseous again the better half of the morning, plus her eating schedule had been all off due to living between two different places and scheduling furniture deliveries. Plus, stress at her job and deadlines looming and not being anywhere close to where she needed to be with her assignments and articles wasn't helping. However, the furniture has all been delivered and placed, 99% of the boxes have been unpacked, internet has been hooked up and the house was now feeling like a home.

She sat at the kitchen counter with her laptop in front of her. She grabbed an apple and a jar of peanut butter and a knife and placed it beside her. She fired up her laptop and checked her emails, perking up when she saw one from Hannah.

Hey Zoey, see attached schedule for this week. TY - Hannah Woods VP, PR Strategist / Executive Assistant to Cillian Murphy Elite Talent & Public Relations cell: (213) 555-0808 HWoods@elite.com

Okay, cool. I'm going to ignore how she spelled my name, it's a common typo, Zoe thought.

But... did she really have to add "Assistant to Cillian Murphy" to her email signature? Is this permanent? What's a VP doing as a personal-excuse me, executive assistant? She wondered.

She opened the attachment and it was... not what she was expecting. it was a simple word doc, with days bolded and shooting times next to it. For some reason, Zoe thought there would be something more... professional?

Is this how Tarantino does his shooting schedules? Zoe thought.

She looked at the assigned day and saw that he was shooting from 7am - 8pm.

Zoe did the math in her head and concluded it was 10pm where he was. Was it too late for a call?

Weird, why wouldn't he text or call me when he was done? She thought.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Scout barking, wanting to go out in the yard. Zoe stood up, stretched her legs and opened the sliding glass door outside to the backyard. She followed Scout onto the deck where the plopped down on a deck chair and reclined back, letting the sun hit her face, thinking about if she should call him or not. She sighed and pushed the paranoid thoughts to the back of her mind and opened her phone.

~

"Let's wrap it up here, guys" Cillian heard once they finished a scene. Cillian relaxed his shoulders and unclenched his jaw. relaxing as much as he could back into himself.

The first couple days back were always the toughest, he spent so long as himself it took him a couple days to snap back into Tommy. Tommy and Cillian were two completely different people, with Tommy being an extremely violent person, the complete opposite of Cillian. It was hard sometimes, but in a way, so rewarding. He truly loved his job.

Cillian made his way back to his trailer, unbuttoning his shirt as he walked up the steps, pushing open the door.

"Hello!" Hannah said, standing up from the kitchen booth. Cillian jumped, not expecting to see her there.

"Oh, hey Hannah," Cillian said, smiling. All he wanted to do was get a shower, call Zoe and sleep.

"I have some stuff to go over with you once you're done in the shower," Hannah said, looking down at her notepad. "But, you have a cast dinner scheduled this evening. In an hour, actually. So..."Hannah said, motioning to the bathroom door, insinuating to get to it.

"Is the dinner necessary? I'm beat," Cillian said.

"Yes, Stephen requested it. He wants them more often actually, to strengthen the bond of the cast."

"Strengthen the bond...? We're in season six, i think we're all bonded," Cillian mumbled. He sighed and stretched his back, hearing a few pops and wincing at the sound. He was truly beat. "Alright. I'll shower, but do me a favor will ya?" He said, walking towards the bathroom. "you still have my phone, yea? Text Zoe for me and tell her i'll text her later when I'm home."

Hannah smiled. "Of course Cillian."

Hannah waited until Cillian got into the shower to look at his phone. As she expected, there was a text from Zoe.

Zoe: Hey babe - how was today? We miss you.

Hannah rolled her eyes. Gross. She thought for a couple minutes then responded:

Cillian: Hey. working late - i'll talk to u when i can.

Hannah hit send then deleted the entire message thread. As soon as she swiped out of the messages, She heard the shower turn off.

Cillian emerged shortly after, in sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"Wardrobe sent over some jeans and a white button down shirt for the dinner," Hannah said, pointing to the clothes laid out for him.

"Thanks," he replied, "did you get a chance to text Zoe for me?"

"Sure did!" Hannah said, smiling. "She said she'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Cillian said, furrowing his eyebrows. "We wrapped at 5 today. I'll get to her when I get out of the dinner I guess, Thanks H," He said, walking over to the clothes on the counter.

"No problem," Hannah said, standing up. "Oh and Cill?" She said, turning to facing him. "It's not my place, but you should really consider deleting all your texts in your phone. It's not just a privacy issue, obviously if you lose your phone and someone breaks in they can read all your messages, but it's also taking up a lot of memory.... it makes your phone run slow," She said, struggling to end that sentence. She wasn't sure if it made the phone run slow or not, but she just needed an excuse to keep deleting messages.

"Really? I figured phones nowadays have no memory limit... but what do I know, I'm horrible with technology," Cillian replied.

"Yea!!" Hannah said, almost laughing. She couldn't believer how dumb men are.

"Yea I'm horrible with technology?? you're fired," Cillian joked.

"No no! I'm agreeing with you that phones nowadays.. should be limitless when it comes to memory," Hannah scrounged up. "Unfortunately we're not there yet.... it's all in the little booklet that comes with the phone."

"Cillian raised an eyebrow, pulling the shirt over his head. "People read those?"

Hannah blinked. "I read those... But you know me. I love a contract!"

"Oh" Cillian said somberly. "Well, you're in charge. Delete it then. And just hold onto my phone for me until the dinner will ya? I'm still so off from the flight and I'm still jet lagged and it's a miracle i can remember my lines. I'll come grab it after dinner."

"Sure thing, Cill! Francisco is waiting for you in hair, I gave him a heads up about you going to the dinner and asked if he could do your hair, so he's ready when you are," Hannah smiled sweetly.

"Thanks, I don't know what the hell to do with this," Cillian sighed, running his fingers through the haircut he hated so badly. He grabbed his boots and made his way out the door.

Hannah waited until Cillian was out of sight before pulling up her laptop. She spent all afternoon drafting up a fake schedule to send to Zoe in Microsoft Word. She wanted to get a jump start on the one for next week.

Shooting tomorrow didn't start until 10am tomorrow, which would be 2am Zoe's time. Shooting was supposed to end at 8pm tomorrow, but Zoe doesn't have to know that...

And now that she has control of Cillian's phone and can delete messages, this will be easier than she thought it would be.

First things first, she pulled out her cell and dialed her contact at DailyMail.

"Hey Tara, it's Hannah over at Elite... I have a tip for you. Tonight the Peaky Blinders cast is going out for dinner and drinks to celebrate the start of shooting the new season..." She said, smiling to herself.

"Heard it's gonna get a little wild. Cillian Murphy has to let off some steam and he plans on going full Tommy tonight. Think it can make tomorrow's press?"

tags:

@lau219 @cillianinlove @vervainandspritz @supershadowymiraclestudent @borntodiemp3 @cillianmurphyvevo @shopgirl6us

Like and comment for more please!

UNTIL YOU COME BACK HOME

Jackson Rippner x Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warning: smut, angst, comfort

A/N: I'll get back to writing more chapters soon. For now, have this oneshot. Please Interact and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

“Oh god, Jackson!” Y/n gasped as soon as she saw him through the peephole in the door. Moving as quickly as possible, she swung the door open, pouncing forward to get a hold of him.

He stood there, his breathing shallow and rugged. White button up shirt ripped on his shoulder, revealing the bleeding wound. The material surrounding it was covered in crimson red. His hair sweaty, beads dripping down his face as he barely kept his blue, cloudy eyes open.

“Y/n” he mumbled, taking a heavy step forward as he grabbed onto her shoulders. She huffed as he put his weight on her, and with some struggle they managed to both get inside as she kicked the door shut.

Hundreds and thousands of thoughts ran through her head as she helped him to the living room where he mindlessly slumped on the couch.

“Wait here” she murmured, rushing to the bathroom for the first aid kit that was quite… advanced ever since she met him. Grabbing the necessities, Y/n quickly moved back to the living room, putting it all on the table with her shaky hands. He looked barely conscious and her heart was pounding like crazy as she took his shirt off to make sure that the visible injuries were the only ones on him.

He kept mumbling something every now and then but she didn't listen, instead she focused on stopping the bleeding from his shoulder and stitching him back up.

Breathing deeply, Y/n tried her best to get her hands more steady as she did her very best to ensure he'd be… better than whatever state she found him in.

Two hours and some tears later, Jackson was settled in her own bed, wearing only briefs and breathing heavily. She wiped her face while glancing at the clock only then realising how late it was. Jackson was completely out of it, and from the look of it, he would be for several more hours because of the medicine she gave him. The medicine he needed to ensure his wound wouldn't get infected.

Y/n was aware of his job, and it was one of the biggest factors of why she decided to never let their relationship move forward. Just sex, they said before. She couldn't afford getting her heart broken.

His lips said one thing, and his actions showed another, she thought. She wrapped her arms around his waist as she hugged his back lightly, her cheek pressing to his hot skin. Only for now, it was safe to do so. He was unconscious, so he wouldn't make a fuss about it. The closeness with lack of any sexual intentions. Intimacy. Comfort.

As expected, Jackson slept for a long time before eventually waking up, a little past 7 PM the next day.

She managed to clean up her bathroom and couch from his blood, getting her apartment to become squeaky clean because of the anxiety she was feeling. Y/n tried to be productive instead of impatiently waiting at him and biting her nails.

“Y/n” He said in a hoarse, husky voice before grimacing slightly because of the dryness and pain in his throat. Hearing him, she jumped a little, clearly startled as her book fell on the floor with a thud.

“Oh shit, you scared me.” Y/n said, with a hand on her chest as she eyed him quickly before getting up to get a glass of water for him, hearing the state of his throat. “How are you feeling?” She asked quietly after handing him the glass. Her brows slightly furrowed at his unusually pale skin.

“As wonderful as I look” He replied with a scoff after drinking the water and setting the glass aside with a groan.

“You were really hurt this time.” She started quietly, fidgeting with her fingers for a moment as she kept looking at him. “You’ve been asleep for over twenty four hours, Jackson. You—you need to tell me what happened.” She says eventually, crossing her arms over her chest as her frustration grew. She knew how unhappy he was whenever she'd ask questions, and Y/n liked his presence too much to risk losing him over that. So she wouldn't ask, not usually, but this time was different. It was too big to pretend like it didn't happen.

His pale, blue eyes avoided looking directly into hers as he let out a deep breath. His frame was tense.

“Don't act stupid, you know damn well what I do for a living, sweetheart.” He replied. “It's not always all rainbows and flowers.” The sarcasm smoothly made its way down his tongue, as always, seemed like. Y/n got used to the fact Jackson was fluent in this particular thing.

Hearing his tone her body tensed in a combative manner. Squeezing her first, she pointed at him with the other, shaking hand.

“Don't you fucking dare talk to me this way after I spent my whole night stitching you up, preventing you from bleeding out, and barely closing my eyes to make sure you were bloody alive!” Her voice shook slightly every now and then as she tried to stand her ground against him. “It's YOUR work to do… all that, but is it my work to always stitch you up afterwards? Why the hell do you come here since I don't deserve even a brief explanation?” She demanded to know, looking intently at him as she wrapped her arms around herself for some, much needed at the moment, comfort.

Jackson tilted his head slightly, raising his chin as he finally looked her in the eyes. His facial expression was impossible to read, as always.

But the one thing she was perfect at, was reading his eyes. Ever since day one, Jackson would always try to avoid eye contact in such situations. Even though his stare never failed before, and he was going through life thinking he mastered it.

Well, maybe he did. Y/n was the only one who saw more in his bright, storm and tempest filled eyes. So he'd purposely put a wall between the two of them. She knew him too well to believe in the theatrics he was so prone to use on people.

“Your apartment was the closest place I could think of at the moment. It's not that deep.” His voice was low and emotionless, husky from the lack of usage in the last twenty four hours but he managed to keep up the eye contact for just a few seconds before looking away.

Yet, it hurt her. Sighing deeply, she shook her head and made her way to the kitchen as Jackson slowly got up from her bed.

Looking around for his pants, he ran a hand through his hair with a groan. The one thing he could admit to himself was that seeing disappointment in her eyes wasn't… nice. It didn't feel good.

“So… when can I see you now?” He asked casually, trying to break the tension after a couple minutes, thinking that she just gave up asking him questions like always, after he'd shut her down.

The silence hung in the air for a longer moment, charged with unsaid words and buzzing emotions. Y/n was tired, visibly and mentally.

“Don't come here anymore, Jack. I can't do it.”

A quiet voice came from the kitchen, making his heart stop for a moment and his eyes to widen. Turning around he walked up to her, leaning on the counter.

“Come on, you're not mad at me, are you?” He asked, raising his eyebrows, not understanding the vulnerable expressions on her face, which she never hid. Y/n wasn't scared to be vulnerable with her feelings around him, which was always a source of conflicted emotions within himself.

With a resigned sigh, she put the knife and veggies down, looking up at him.

“No, it's… it's more than that. I just can't do what you're expecting of me.” She started, shaking her head a little. “Just—just fuck you, and then, then take care of you and never care enough to ask. I can't do that. It's—it's not me, I'm sorry.” The way her body language changed, the vulnerability and raw hurt in her voice made the annoyingly painful feeling gnaw at this one spot in his chest. He didn't know what to say for a moment before turning around and walking a couple steps through her living room. Anger and confusion grew in his head, as the only real emotions he knew so well. Hand tugging on his hair as he let out a humourless laugh.

“You don't mean it. We're just—just arguing again.” He said, trying to convince either her or himself, but the feeling of dread already settled between his ribs. His voice came out louder than intended, accusing even.

As the response didn't come, he turned around again facing her. Taking a couple fast steps he winced at the sharp pain in his shoulder.

“What do you want me to say, Y/n? We talked about it before, I— fucking can't tell you anything!” He said with sharp anger bubbling beneath the surface.

“Jackson, I said I get it! I just can't do what you want me to!” She exclaimed, her voice an octave higher than usually at his sudden outburst. She felt panicked with what was happening. With the idea of never seeing him again, and with what she was feeling at the moment. The feelings accompanying her were much more complex than she'd like them to be.

“Then why are you so fucking dramatic about it!” He continued pacing back and forth, not handling the situation very well, or picking up on the irony of his words.

Y/n raised her eyebrows with a scoff.

“Me? I'm just breaking it off, Jackson. You are the one yelling at me and running around my living room.” She pointed out, keeping the pain hidden away. For now.

He stopped in his tracks immediately as she called him out on the frantic behaviour.

“I wouldn't if you weren't like… this!” He spat out, his blue eyes filled with coldness and anger. The sudden motion as he swung his arm, caused the stitches to rip and blood started dripping down his arm. “Fuck!”

Y/n’s eyes widened immediately.

“Jack, calm down! Your arm!” She squealed, making him raise his eyebrows in surprise. Her hand grasped his bigger one as she pulled him to the bathroom, pushing him to sit on the edge of the bathtub. It was a fairly small room, with not much space after he'd fill it out with his wide frame, so without a second thought she slumped on his lap.

He sat here wordlessly, the combative facial expression still decorating his handsome face as she worked on the wound, cleansing it before getting to the stitching.

He didn't make a sound until the last stitch, when he suddenly let out a loud hiss at the particularly painful movement of the needle in his skin.

“Sorry” she said quietly out of habit. “You need to stop thrashing like a wild animal for the next few days.” Y/n added, concerned with his state.

Jackson scoffed, tensing as he looked in her eyes accusingly.

“Don't tell me what to do. You dumped me.” His voice was low and grumbly, still carrying some anger in it, but the way he put it made Y/n let out a giggle uncontrollably. His gaze softened slightly. He sounded like an offended child.

“As far as I know, we weren't together, Jackson.” Her voice was more playful than anything as she finished the stitching, putting the tools aside. Caressing the skin on his arm, Y/n sighed.

Jackson kept looking at her with a lump forming in his throat. After a minute he broke the silence.

“I don't know what you want me to say, but you won’t hear…” He started before clearing his throat, unsure of what words to use. Of how to explain.”—hear THAT from me, Y/n. I just can't.” He said quietly, his hands holding her hips, thumbs rubbing little circles on her soft skin. The silence settled in the air again, as she felt he wasn't finished just yet. Just needed some more time to recollect his words. “...but I don't want to not see you anymore.” He sounded weaker than ever, more… vulnerable. The trait she wanted to see in him so badly, making her heart soften in an instant.

Feeling the surge of hope rushing through her veins, she raised her hands to his face, tilting his head up so her eyes would meet his. Her eyes were– bright again, Jackson noticed subconsciously.

“You don't want to lose me.” She stated with confidence, knowing what he meant. Jackson neither denied nor confirmed, sighing deeply as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Say it.” She demanded, caressing his skin and as soon as he looked again, searching his blue eyes for anything that would show her she was wrong. She didn't find anything.

He took a deep breath, his fingers digging into her skin harder.

“I don't want to lose you.” He repeated, sounding like the words almost drowned him, but he knew it was a turning point. Jack knew she was – patient and understanding. It would be enough. They stared at each other for a longer moment before she touched his cheek with a little chuckle.

Seeing her eyes so shiny and cheeks blushed, Jackson regretted he didn't say it sooner. It took a lot, but it was worth it. Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead against hers.

“What's so funny?” He scoffed playfully, looking at her lips with a deep breath.

Y/n leaned in, kissing him in a way that took his breath away for a mere moment making him forget who they were. Who he was. A way that she wouldn't dare to kiss him before.

“Stubborn man” she let out with a sigh after pulling away.

Only then did she get up, pulling him back to the bedroom deciding that she'd force him to rest if he wouldn't agree right away.

***

Slowly opening her eyes, Y/n wiped her face with a yawn before she noticed he was awake. The admirably blue eyes looked at her halfway open with a smirk, and for a second she got mad at him for never staying the whole night before. The view was wonderful.

“Hi” She said with a chuckle, making him raise his eyebrow in amusement.

“Hi,” He replied, pulling her closer. Her dishevelled state made her even more attractive than usual, in a completely different way. It was a way that Jackson never looked at other women before which was a little scary, but well. He was way too sleepy to think about it now. With his own eyes barely open and vulnerable as never before, he let out a chuckle. It felt so easy at the moment, like he wasn't a killer without any actual identity. Like he had a chance for a life with the beautiful woman by his side.

Stretching with a groan he shifted to the side, being fairly careful with his injured shoulder. Jackson's hand landed on Y/n’s bare hip as her shirt shifted up, revealing her pale skin. She opened her eyes again, glancing at him as she heard the throaty purr coming from his mouth.

“Jackson” She warned with a giggle, knowing his intentions too well. “You're–” She started, but before she'd manage to finish, he flipped her on her back, hanging over her like a thundercloud. “–injured.” Her voice was defeated with an undertone of humour at his mischievous doings.

“Still healthy enough.” He replied, leaning down and grazing his nose over her neck. After two years of seeing only her, he wasn't able to prevent associating her scent with something– familiar.

Home

Pressed so tightly against her, Jackson felt the familiar stirring in his lower stomach, making him sigh deeply. His warm breath wrapped itself around her skin, making her shiver with delight. He leaned down, biting onto her neck lightly as his hands began stripping her of the pajama pants she was wearing.

She let it happen, until she didn't. Her smaller hand getting a hold of his wrist.

“In my way.” She said, turning her head to meet his eyes. “My way or not at all. Your stitches will probably burst again if I agree to do it the usual way.” She said with a voice that allowed no opposition. That was a voice he rarely heard, but the feisty look in her eyes was clear. She wouldn't bend under his will because she cared about his health.

With a loud, dramatic sigh he slumped on the bed, giving up. Seeing it, Y/n chuckled, raising her brows. Pointing at the tent in his underwear, she asked.

“So you need help with that or not?” Her voice was full of amusement and clear lighthearted mockery. Jackson's eyes immediately shifted to her face.

“Don't push it before I change my mind” he grumbled with a hidden smirk, making her laugh out louder as she got up, pulling her underwear down all the way before she straddled his hips.

Her soft hand began travelling down his chest, tracing every inch of his skin, appreciating the masculine firmness to him. The sensation of his muscles against her delicate fingers.

The air in the room immediately shifted, and Jackson's expression changed. His brows slightly furrowed, as he watched her actions. He was clearly confused, never touched with such intention before in his life. His muscles tensed beneath her fingers, almost expecting pain to come any second now.

Violence was all he knew. She understood it, but it nevertheless broke her heart a little bit.

Looking him in the eyes, she leaned forward, her lips following the path her fingers travelled. She left little kisses on each scar and imperfection she encountered.

Jackson wasn't sure what he felt. Whether he liked it or not, he was more confused than ever before. That's why when she reached the V on his lower stomach, still kissing, he rose up slightly.

“Don't” he said quietly. The atmosphere was so intimate and vulnerable, that for once in his life, he didn't feel up to being pleasured in such a way. He already let her do too much, Jackson thought.

Y/n looked up, meeting his bright eyes with her own. The tension and– fear on his face was visible for the first time since she ever met him.

Nodding lightly, she came back up, kissing him passionately as her hands worked on his underwear, pulling it down and stroking his hard length. Deep groans pushed past his lips with each move as his eyes fell shut. He looked more beautiful than ever, Y/n thought seeing him then.

Only the sensation of her warmth engulfing his manhood brought Jackson back, making him open his eyes and letting his jaw fall open.

“Fuck” he gasped, as she leaned back, supporting herself by holding onto his stomach, not forgetting about his injury.

His hands gripped onto her hips. Still sitting up, Jackson tried moving her on top of his hips to get her to move faster, but Y/n wasn't having any of it. Pushing him back, she leaned forward and captured his lips in a searing kiss while she sensually moved. She was in no rush. Y/n enjoyed every sensation the connection between them was giving her. The slow pace was making him more sensitive to their surroundings than the usual frantic rhythm. The sound of her quiet sighs and whimpers filled his ears like the most beautiful melody. The way her face gave away the all-consuming bliss she experienced from how he felt inside her, but also from how… close they were. Jackson felt like he was slipping. The situation was getting out of control as his mind started spiralling into the vulnerability, which he desperately didn't want to happen.

Looking up, he noticed Y/n watching his face intently, her mouth slightly open as she moved to her own rhythm. Her breasts swayed with each movement before she leaned down, kissing all over his neck while her hands travelled around his collarbones, caressing his skin.

Wordlessly Jackson's bigger hand slowly grabbed hers, moving it up towards his throat, wrapping it suggestively with a certain look in his eyes. Y/n knew.

Of course she did.

With a quiet sigh, she shook her head lightly, moving upwards to his cheek, the gentle touch sending shockwaves down his spine as she watched him with care and gentleness he never experienced.

Covering her hand with his own, Jackson sat up lightly, moving her closer. He didn't fight it anymore.

“You're so beautiful” He breathed out, wrapping his arm around her waist and capturing her lips in a deep, sensual dance as she caressed his hair. They both seemed to get lost in the sensations, drowning in each other's presence without any will or need to seek saving.

As Y/n squeezed her eyes, her body tensing on top of his, Jackson knew she was coming. Leaning his forehead on her collarbone, he followed right after. For the first time in his life, he realised that the way she held him felt even better than the most amazing orgasm he ever experienced.

…and just like that, Jackson knew he’d stay the night, and countless more.

Because even if he couldn't name or say it, he knew the reason why he would keep coming back.

***

Taglist: @lau219 @xsweetcatastrophe

UNTIL YOU COME BACK HOME

Jackson Rippner x Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warning: smut, angst, comfort

A/N: I'll get back to writing more chapters soon. For now, have this oneshot. Please Interact and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

“Oh god, Jackson!” Y/n gasped as soon as she saw him through the peephole in the door. Moving as quickly as possible, she swung the door open, pouncing forward to get a hold of him.

He stood there, his breathing shallow and rugged. White button up shirt ripped on his shoulder, revealing the bleeding wound. The material surrounding it was covered in crimson red. His hair sweaty, beads dripping down his face as he barely kept his blue, cloudy eyes open.

“Y/n” he mumbled, taking a heavy step forward as he grabbed onto her shoulders. She huffed as he put his weight on her, and with some struggle they managed to both get inside as she kicked the door shut.

Hundreds and thousands of thoughts ran through her head as she helped him to the living room where he mindlessly slumped on the couch.

“Wait here” she murmured, rushing to the bathroom for the first aid kit that was quite… advanced ever since she met him. Grabbing the necessities, Y/n quickly moved back to the living room, putting it all on the table with her shaky hands. He looked barely conscious and her heart was pounding like crazy as she took his shirt off to make sure that the visible injuries were the only ones on him.

He kept mumbling something every now and then but she didn't listen, instead she focused on stopping the bleeding from his shoulder and stitching him back up.

Breathing deeply, Y/n tried her best to get her hands more steady as she did her very best to ensure he'd be… better than whatever state she found him in.

Two hours and some tears later, Jackson was settled in her own bed, wearing only briefs and breathing heavily. She wiped her face while glancing at the clock only then realising how late it was. Jackson was completely out of it, and from the look of it, he would be for several more hours because of the medicine she gave him. The medicine he needed to ensure his wound wouldn't get infected.

Y/n was aware of his job, and it was one of the biggest factors of why she decided to never let their relationship move forward. Just sex, they said before. She couldn't afford getting her heart broken.

His lips said one thing, and his actions showed another, she thought. She wrapped her arms around his waist as she hugged his back lightly, her cheek pressing to his hot skin. Only for now, it was safe to do so. He was unconscious, so he wouldn't make a fuss about it. The closeness with lack of any sexual intentions. Intimacy. Comfort.

As expected, Jackson slept for a long time before eventually waking up, a little past 7 PM the next day.

She managed to clean up her bathroom and couch from his blood, getting her apartment to become squeaky clean because of the anxiety she was feeling. Y/n tried to be productive instead of impatiently waiting at him and biting her nails.

“Y/n” He said in a hoarse, husky voice before grimacing slightly because of the dryness and pain in his throat. Hearing him, she jumped a little, clearly startled as her book fell on the floor with a thud.

“Oh shit, you scared me.” Y/n said, with a hand on her chest as she eyed him quickly before getting up to get a glass of water for him, hearing the state of his throat. “How are you feeling?” She asked quietly after handing him the glass. Her brows slightly furrowed at his unusually pale skin.

“As wonderful as I look” He replied with a scoff after drinking the water and setting the glass aside with a groan.

“You were really hurt this time.” She started quietly, fidgeting with her fingers for a moment as she kept looking at him. “You’ve been asleep for over twenty four hours, Jackson. You—you need to tell me what happened.” She says eventually, crossing her arms over her chest as her frustration grew. She knew how unhappy he was whenever she'd ask questions, and Y/n liked his presence too much to risk losing him over that. So she wouldn't ask, not usually, but this time was different. It was too big to pretend like it didn't happen.

His pale, blue eyes avoided looking directly into hers as he let out a deep breath. His frame was tense.

“Don't act stupid, you know damn well what I do for a living, sweetheart.” He replied. “It's not always all rainbows and flowers.” The sarcasm smoothly made its way down his tongue, as always, seemed like. Y/n got used to the fact Jackson was fluent in this particular thing.

Hearing his tone her body tensed in a combative manner. Squeezing her first, she pointed at him with the other, shaking hand.

“Don't you fucking dare talk to me this way after I spent my whole night stitching you up, preventing you from bleeding out, and barely closing my eyes to make sure you were bloody alive!” Her voice shook slightly every now and then as she tried to stand her ground against him. “It's YOUR work to do… all that, but is it my work to always stitch you up afterwards? Why the hell do you come here since I don't deserve even a brief explanation?” She demanded to know, looking intently at him as she wrapped her arms around herself for some, much needed at the moment, comfort.

Jackson tilted his head slightly, raising his chin as he finally looked her in the eyes. His facial expression was impossible to read, as always.

But the one thing she was perfect at, was reading his eyes. Ever since day one, Jackson would always try to avoid eye contact in such situations. Even though his stare never failed before, and he was going through life thinking he mastered it.

Well, maybe he did. Y/n was the only one who saw more in his bright, storm and tempest filled eyes. So he'd purposely put a wall between the two of them. She knew him too well to believe in the theatrics he was so prone to use on people.

“Your apartment was the closest place I could think of at the moment. It's not that deep.” His voice was low and emotionless, husky from the lack of usage in the last twenty four hours but he managed to keep up the eye contact for just a few seconds before looking away.

Yet, it hurt her. Sighing deeply, she shook her head and made her way to the kitchen as Jackson slowly got up from her bed.

Looking around for his pants, he ran a hand through his hair with a groan. The one thing he could admit to himself was that seeing disappointment in her eyes wasn't… nice. It didn't feel good.

“So… when can I see you now?” He asked casually, trying to break the tension after a couple minutes, thinking that she just gave up asking him questions like always, after he'd shut her down.

The silence hung in the air for a longer moment, charged with unsaid words and buzzing emotions. Y/n was tired, visibly and mentally.

“Don't come here anymore, Jack. I can't do it.”

A quiet voice came from the kitchen, making his heart stop for a moment and his eyes to widen. Turning around he walked up to her, leaning on the counter.

“Come on, you're not mad at me, are you?” He asked, raising his eyebrows, not understanding the vulnerable expressions on her face, which she never hid. Y/n wasn't scared to be vulnerable with her feelings around him, which was always a source of conflicted emotions within himself.

With a resigned sigh, she put the knife and veggies down, looking up at him.

“No, it's… it's more than that. I just can't do what you're expecting of me.” She started, shaking her head a little. “Just—just fuck you, and then, then take care of you and never care enough to ask. I can't do that. It's—it's not me, I'm sorry.” The way her body language changed, the vulnerability and raw hurt in her voice made the annoyingly painful feeling gnaw at this one spot in his chest. He didn't know what to say for a moment before turning around and walking a couple steps through her living room. Anger and confusion grew in his head, as the only real emotions he knew so well. Hand tugging on his hair as he let out a humourless laugh.

“You don't mean it. We're just—just arguing again.” He said, trying to convince either her or himself, but the feeling of dread already settled between his ribs. His voice came out louder than intended, accusing even.

As the response didn't come, he turned around again facing her. Taking a couple fast steps he winced at the sharp pain in his shoulder.

“What do you want me to say, Y/n? We talked about it before, I— fucking can't tell you anything!” He said with sharp anger bubbling beneath the surface.

“Jackson, I said I get it! I just can't do what you want me to!” She exclaimed, her voice an octave higher than usually at his sudden outburst. She felt panicked with what was happening. With the idea of never seeing him again, and with what she was feeling at the moment. The feelings accompanying her were much more complex than she'd like them to be.

“Then why are you so fucking dramatic about it!” He continued pacing back and forth, not handling the situation very well, or picking up on the irony of his words.

Y/n raised her eyebrows with a scoff.

“Me? I'm just breaking it off, Jackson. You are the one yelling at me and running around my living room.” She pointed out, keeping the pain hidden away. For now.

He stopped in his tracks immediately as she called him out on the frantic behaviour.

“I wouldn't if you weren't like… this!” He spat out, his blue eyes filled with coldness and anger. The sudden motion as he swung his arm, caused the stitches to rip and blood started dripping down his arm. “Fuck!”

Y/n’s eyes widened immediately.

“Jack, calm down! Your arm!” She squealed, making him raise his eyebrows in surprise. Her hand grasped his bigger one as she pulled him to the bathroom, pushing him to sit on the edge of the bathtub. It was a fairly small room, with not much space after he'd fill it out with his wide frame, so without a second thought she slumped on his lap.

He sat here wordlessly, the combative facial expression still decorating his handsome face as she worked on the wound, cleansing it before getting to the stitching.

He didn't make a sound until the last stitch, when he suddenly let out a loud hiss at the particularly painful movement of the needle in his skin.

“Sorry” she said quietly out of habit. “You need to stop thrashing like a wild animal for the next few days.” Y/n added, concerned with his state.

Jackson scoffed, tensing as he looked in her eyes accusingly.

“Don't tell me what to do. You dumped me.” His voice was low and grumbly, still carrying some anger in it, but the way he put it made Y/n let out a giggle uncontrollably. His gaze softened slightly. He sounded like an offended child.

“As far as I know, we weren't together, Jackson.” Her voice was more playful than anything as she finished the stitching, putting the tools aside. Caressing the skin on his arm, Y/n sighed.

Jackson kept looking at her with a lump forming in his throat. After a minute he broke the silence.

“I don't know what you want me to say, but you won’t hear…” He started before clearing his throat, unsure of what words to use. Of how to explain.”—hear THAT from me, Y/n. I just can't.” He said quietly, his hands holding her hips, thumbs rubbing little circles on her soft skin. The silence settled in the air again, as she felt he wasn't finished just yet. Just needed some more time to recollect his words. “...but I don't want to not see you anymore.” He sounded weaker than ever, more… vulnerable. The trait she wanted to see in him so badly, making her heart soften in an instant.

Feeling the surge of hope rushing through her veins, she raised her hands to his face, tilting his head up so her eyes would meet his. Her eyes were– bright again, Jackson noticed subconsciously.

“You don't want to lose me.” She stated with confidence, knowing what he meant. Jackson neither denied nor confirmed, sighing deeply as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Say it.” She demanded, caressing his skin and as soon as he looked again, searching his blue eyes for anything that would show her she was wrong. She didn't find anything.

He took a deep breath, his fingers digging into her skin harder.

“I don't want to lose you.” He repeated, sounding like the words almost drowned him, but he knew it was a turning point. Jack knew she was – patient and understanding. It would be enough. They stared at each other for a longer moment before she touched his cheek with a little chuckle.

Seeing her eyes so shiny and cheeks blushed, Jackson regretted he didn't say it sooner. It took a lot, but it was worth it. Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead against hers.

“What's so funny?” He scoffed playfully, looking at her lips with a deep breath.

Y/n leaned in, kissing him in a way that took his breath away for a mere moment making him forget who they were. Who he was. A way that she wouldn't dare to kiss him before.

“Stubborn man” she let out with a sigh after pulling away.

Only then did she get up, pulling him back to the bedroom deciding that she'd force him to rest if he wouldn't agree right away.

***

Slowly opening her eyes, Y/n wiped her face with a yawn before she noticed he was awake. The admirably blue eyes looked at her halfway open with a smirk, and for a second she got mad at him for never staying the whole night before. The view was wonderful.

“Hi” She said with a chuckle, making him raise his eyebrow in amusement.

“Hi,” He replied, pulling her closer. Her dishevelled state made her even more attractive than usual, in a completely different way. It was a way that Jackson never looked at other women before which was a little scary, but well. He was way too sleepy to think about it now. With his own eyes barely open and vulnerable as never before, he let out a chuckle. It felt so easy at the moment, like he wasn't a killer without any actual identity. Like he had a chance for a life with the beautiful woman by his side.

Stretching with a groan he shifted to the side, being fairly careful with his injured shoulder. Jackson's hand landed on Y/n’s bare hip as her shirt shifted up, revealing her pale skin. She opened her eyes again, glancing at him as she heard the throaty purr coming from his mouth.

“Jackson” She warned with a giggle, knowing his intentions too well. “You're–” She started, but before she'd manage to finish, he flipped her on her back, hanging over her like a thundercloud. “–injured.” Her voice was defeated with an undertone of humour at his mischievous doings.

“Still healthy enough.” He replied, leaning down and grazing his nose over her neck. After two years of seeing only her, he wasn't able to prevent associating her scent with something– familiar.

Home

Pressed so tightly against her, Jackson felt the familiar stirring in his lower stomach, making him sigh deeply. His warm breath wrapped itself around her skin, making her shiver with delight. He leaned down, biting onto her neck lightly as his hands began stripping her of the pajama pants she was wearing.

She let it happen, until she didn't. Her smaller hand getting a hold of his wrist.

“In my way.” She said, turning her head to meet his eyes. “My way or not at all. Your stitches will probably burst again if I agree to do it the usual way.” She said with a voice that allowed no opposition. That was a voice he rarely heard, but the feisty look in her eyes was clear. She wouldn't bend under his will because she cared about his health.

With a loud, dramatic sigh he slumped on the bed, giving up. Seeing it, Y/n chuckled, raising her brows. Pointing at the tent in his underwear, she asked.

“So you need help with that or not?” Her voice was full of amusement and clear lighthearted mockery. Jackson's eyes immediately shifted to her face.

“Don't push it before I change my mind” he grumbled with a hidden smirk, making her laugh out louder as she got up, pulling her underwear down all the way before she straddled his hips.

Her soft hand began travelling down his chest, tracing every inch of his skin, appreciating the masculine firmness to him. The sensation of his muscles against her delicate fingers.

The air in the room immediately shifted, and Jackson's expression changed. His brows slightly furrowed, as he watched her actions. He was clearly confused, never touched with such intention before in his life. His muscles tensed beneath her fingers, almost expecting pain to come any second now.

Violence was all he knew. She understood it, but it nevertheless broke her heart a little bit.

Looking him in the eyes, she leaned forward, her lips following the path her fingers travelled. She left little kisses on each scar and imperfection she encountered.

Jackson wasn't sure what he felt. Whether he liked it or not, he was more confused than ever before. That's why when she reached the V on his lower stomach, still kissing, he rose up slightly.

“Don't” he said quietly. The atmosphere was so intimate and vulnerable, that for once in his life, he didn't feel up to being pleasured in such a way. He already let her do too much, Jackson thought.

Y/n looked up, meeting his bright eyes with her own. The tension and– fear on his face was visible for the first time since she ever met him.

Nodding lightly, she came back up, kissing him passionately as her hands worked on his underwear, pulling it down and stroking his hard length. Deep groans pushed past his lips with each move as his eyes fell shut. He looked more beautiful than ever, Y/n thought seeing him then.

Only the sensation of her warmth engulfing his manhood brought Jackson back, making him open his eyes and letting his jaw fall open.

“Fuck” he gasped, as she leaned back, supporting herself by holding onto his stomach, not forgetting about his injury.

His hands gripped onto her hips. Still sitting up, Jackson tried moving her on top of his hips to get her to move faster, but Y/n wasn't having any of it. Pushing him back, she leaned forward and captured his lips in a searing kiss while she sensually moved. She was in no rush. Y/n enjoyed every sensation the connection between them was giving her. The slow pace was making him more sensitive to their surroundings than the usual frantic rhythm. The sound of her quiet sighs and whimpers filled his ears like the most beautiful melody. The way her face gave away the all-consuming bliss she experienced from how he felt inside her, but also from how… close they were. Jackson felt like he was slipping. The situation was getting out of control as his mind started spiralling into the vulnerability, which he desperately didn't want to happen.

Looking up, he noticed Y/n watching his face intently, her mouth slightly open as she moved to her own rhythm. Her breasts swayed with each movement before she leaned down, kissing all over his neck while her hands travelled around his collarbones, caressing his skin.

Wordlessly Jackson's bigger hand slowly grabbed hers, moving it up towards his throat, wrapping it suggestively with a certain look in his eyes. Y/n knew.

Of course she did.

With a quiet sigh, she shook her head lightly, moving upwards to his cheek, the gentle touch sending shockwaves down his spine as she watched him with care and gentleness he never experienced.

Covering her hand with his own, Jackson sat up lightly, moving her closer. He didn't fight it anymore.

“You're so beautiful” He breathed out, wrapping his arm around her waist and capturing her lips in a deep, sensual dance as she caressed his hair. They both seemed to get lost in the sensations, drowning in each other's presence without any will or need to seek saving.

As Y/n squeezed her eyes, her body tensing on top of his, Jackson knew she was coming. Leaning his forehead on her collarbone, he followed right after. For the first time in his life, he realised that the way she held him felt even better than the most amazing orgasm he ever experienced.

…and just like that, Jackson knew he’d stay the night, and countless more.

Because even if he couldn't name or say it, he knew the reason why he would keep coming back.

***

Taglist: @lau219 @xsweetcatastrophe

Do not blame me for who I am. The doctor prescribed me 20 mL of #tommy shelby twice a day.