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luvrgreyy · 4 months ago

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THE AMERICAN DREAM

leon kennedy x f!reader

word count: 2.4k summary: living the picture perfect marriage with leon. masterlist | taglist | ko-fi

18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE. typical american marriage, mentions of abuse, throwing up, drugging/use of drugs, gaslighting, leon being mean and condescending — he’s very ooc in this one, non-con, basically somnophilia, unprotected sex, p in v, choking, slapping, spanking, spitting, fingering(vaginal and mouth), degrading language.

a/n: 100 FOLLOWER SPECIAL !! thank you so much everyone <3 sorry if the writing on this ones a little sloppy, this one’s mostly self indulgent and i was half asleep when making this so i didn’t really know what i was writing down. anyways, hope you guys enjoy this, love you all xx.

you loved your husband. your relationship was everything you’ve ever wanted. a nice house in a beautiful suburb — white picket fence and all — a doting husband, and an idyllic life that seemed straight out of a hollywood movie. each day was laced with domestic bliss.

everything was perfect, living the dream with the perfect husband. you don't even remember the fact that he took you away from your family. or that he was systematically drugging you, slipping small doses of amnesiacs into your food and drink to keep your memory fuzzy and prevent you from remembering the fact that he was basically abusing and raping you on a daily basis. the drug kept you docile and unquestioning.

sometimes, you have nightmares about it, though you can’t really remember anything, and you think they’re just things your brain like to make up.

you woke up with a start, your hands clenched tightly into fists in the bed sheets as your breath came in sharp and fast. the room was quiet, except for the soft ticking of the clock. it’s the same nightmare, the same thing that leaves you feeling disoriented and unsettled, but you can't recall the details.

you felt your husband shift behind you, his warm body pressing against yours. "mm, baby," his groggy voice rumbled sleepily, his hands slipping around your waist to pull you closer against him, a touch meant to be soothing. his chin rested against your shoulder, his lips trailing languidly across the nape of your neck. “you okay?”

“another nightmare?” he murmured lowly, sensing your unease.

"i— i'm gonna throw up,”

a slight pause and then leon sprung into action. he immediately rolled over and gently pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest while he carried you towards the bathroom.

“it’s alright, sweetheart. let it all out,” he soothed, his voice a soft, comforting murmur as he cradled you closely. he leaned you over the toilet, holding your hair back as you wretched and retched.

he held you close to him, gently massaging your back with one hand, stroking your spine soothingly with his fingers, all while using his other hand to hold your hair back.

“i’ve got you,” he whispered softly, pressing gentle kisses on the crown of your head, his arms holding you firmly yet gently as you hunched over the toilet. his free hand reaches over to grab a clean towel and wiping away any remnants of vomit from your lips.

after a few moments, your body slumped and you gasped for breath, leaning against him for support. he continued to hold you gently, running his fingers softly over your clammy skin.

"tea?" you looked up at him with hazy eyes, still feeling queasy. the room was spinning and your stomach churned at the mere thought of food. but the idea of drinking something soothing sounded nice.

"yes... please,"

he ushers you into the kitchen, fetching a tea bag and a cup from the cabinet and pouring in some boiling water from the kettle. he sets the cup on the table and takes a seat across from you.

“here,” he hands you a steaming mug of tea, his large hand brushing against yours for just a moment. you take a sip and it tastes strange — slightly bitter and with a weird aftertaste. but it does seem to ease the churning in your stomach.

he sighs in relief as you take another sip of your tea, not noticing the small pill dissolved in the cup.

“there we go, sweetheart. i know you've been feeling a bit under the weather lately. that’ll help you relax and feel better in no time,”

he smiles warmly, pretending to care about your wellbeing, when in reality he's just trying to keep you sedated so you don't realize what a hellish existence you're living.

you blinked slowly, the warm tea feeling good as it slid down your throat. the room was still spinning a bit, but you felt yourself starting to relax. leon watched you carefully, relieved that the nausea seemed to be subsiding.

“feel dizzy,” you mumble slowly.

he reached across the table to pat your hand gently. "there, there sweetheart. why don’t i take you back to bed so you can rest? you’re clearly exhausted,"

without waiting for a response, he helps you to your feet and steers you towards the bedroom. you stumble and sway on unsteady legs, unable to resist as he guides you. once you're on the bed, he covers you with a blanket and tucks you in snugly.

"oh, my poor baby.. i’ll join you in a few minutes, just gonna wash up the dishes in the kitchen."

you can barely keep your eyes open as the drug pulls you under. your last thought is wondering why you feel so tired all the time, before slipping into a deep, medicated slumber. you snuggle deeper into the blankets, your eyelids growing heavier by the second. leon lingers by the bedside, watching you with a mixture of amusement and anticipation.

soon, your breathing evens out and your body goes limp, succumbing to the drug's effects. leon smiles, satisfied. he knows he has a window of opportunity before you wake up again. without wasting any time, he quietly slips up your nightgown, exposing your tender flesh to his hungry eyes and eager touch. his hands roam freely over your body, groping and squeezing as he pleases. he reaches up and cups one breast with each hand, weighing them appreciatively.

he leans down and starts planting wet kisses across your neck and chest, staying close so you don't stir.

then he's on top of you, shoving his pants down and mounting you roughly.

your moans and protests are muffled by your sleep-addled state as he ravages you mercilessly, using his big, strong hands to hold you down and shut you up.

“l-lee—leon,” you manage to mumble.

leon silences you by reaching down and forcing two fingers into your mouth, thrusting them between your lips.

"shh, ‘ts okay baby," he hums into your ear, giving your cunt a light slap that makes you yelp around his fingers. "such a good girl, taking it so well," he praises you with a growl as he works your mouth open with his fingers, stretching your jaw wide for his invasion. your protests are swallowed by your own gag reflex as he fucks your face with no regard for your well-being.

your mind is hazy and you can't seem to rouse yourself enough to push him away. he's just too strong, too overpowering. you're at his mercy, helpless to resist as he takes what he wants.

his fingers finally slip free from your mouth, coated in saliva. he uses that same hand to roughly spread your legs further apart, pleased with how easily he’s able to violate you in your vulnerable state.

he flips you upright and pulls your hips back, exposing your pussy to the air. he runs a finger along your slit, feeling how wet he's made you.

"look at you, getting all worked up over nothing," he chuckles darkly, spreading your lips and poking his big finger into your entrance.

“so wet f’me,” he coos, sliding his finger inside you and starts to pump it, scissoring it to stretch you. you moan and wriggle against him, still only semi-conscious.

leon ignores your attempts at protest, too focused on his own pleasure. his hips start rocking, his hard cock rubbing against your thighs as he uses you like a doll. “fucking slut, getting off to this," he growls, giving your clit a harsh pinch that makes you whine. his words are thick with insincerity, a mocking edge to his voice as he uses the pet name he knows you love. in reality, he despises you and views you as nothing more than an object to use at his leisure.

you try to push him away with your sleepy hands, clawing and flailing your arms, but he pins them to the mattress easily. he's too strong, and you're too weak from the drugs coursing through your system.

“be good and stay still," he growls, smashing his mouth down on yours to muffle any screams that might escape. his tongue probes aggressively at your lips, seeking entry. you cry out as he thrusts his thick cock into your resistance, splitting you open and making you scream. his hips start pounding into you with renewed vigor, bouncing off your ass as he breeds you hard and fast. the bed creaks and shifts with each brutal thrust.

"so fucking tight," he groans, starting to piston his hips, using your throat for leverage.

he grunts and growls as he ruts into you like a beast, your body sloppily pressed against his. your head is forced to bob up and down on his cock as he thrusts, drool streaming down your chin. your muffled whimpers and protests are lost around his shaft. “look at that, you take my cock so well baby," his filthy words are punctuated by sharp smacks to your ass and thighs, keeping you off-balance and unable to fully rouse. he's relentless, using your mouth and body for his own sick satisfaction.

your struggles weaken further as the air gets cut off from your lungs. he pauses to spit in your face, the slick substance mingling with your tears and drool. “what’s the matter sweetheart? can’t breathe?" he taunts, smacking your face. "just relax, you can take it." he punctuates his words with a sharp smack to your inner thigh, making you gasp and squirm beneath him.

the bed frame creaks ominously with each powerful thrust, threatening to give way and spill you both to the floor. his hands are everywhere, gripping your hips, pulling your hair, slapping your ass. he's completely lost in his own pleasure, using you as a means to an end. you try to squirm away from him, but it's futile. he's too strong, and you're too drowsy. he simply reaches up and clamps a hand over your mouth, muffling any cries for help.

"quit fucking squirming," he growls. but somehow, he’s lying. he wants you to fight back, to struggle and make it harder for him. it's more exciting that way. your throat burns as he continues to use it as leverage, twisting your head with every brutal thrust. tears stream down your cheeks, your eyes squeezed shut in fear and pain.

saliva and juices run down your thighs as he slams into you without mercy. your mind is fuzzy and disconnected, unable to fully process the assault on your body. all you can do is endure, a ragdoll for leon to use and abuse as he sees fit.

"atta girl," he hisses. "take it, baby." he punctuates his words with another sharp smack to the ass, the sting adding to your growing pile of discomfort.

you can only moan and mewl in response, too far gone to resist. your body is numb, your mind foggy and detached.

you try to nod, too weak to do anything but comply. he loosens his grip on your throat and moves his hand back to your hip, pulling you against him roughly. his cock throbs inside you, swelling up further as he gets close to coming.

"fuck, gonna cum," he warns, his hips redoubling their pace. you moan helplessly as he breeds you hard and fast, the bed creaking and shifting under you. he slaps your ass hard twice, the sound echoing in the room. he groans, coming with a loud grunt. your body is wracked with shudders as he fills you with his cum, your cunt clamping down on his shaft to milk him for every drop.

when he finally pulls out, you're left gasping and sputtering, drool dripping down your face. you lie there in stunned silence afterwards, sprawled beneath him in a puddle of your own fluids. leon collapses on top of you, pinning you to the bed as his chest heaves with exertion.

you're still drifting in and out of consciousness when leon rolls off of you and onto his side, facing away from you. your mind is a fog, struggling to process the events that just transpired. a small sob escapes your lips as you try to make sense of the pain, confusion, and shame that's flooding through you.

after what felt like an eternity, leon reaches over and pulls you into his side, pressing your body close to his. you can feel his warmth, his heartbeat, away his arms are uncomfortably resting atop your skin.

slowly but surely, the fog in your mind starts to clear. you become aware of the dull ache in your throat, the soreness of between your legs, and the disgust you feel for yourself.

fresh tears spring to your eyes as the reality of your situation comes crashing down on you.

"shh, calm down baby," he whispers, stroking your hair soothingly. but his touch is cold and clammy, sending shivers down your spine.

your body feels heavy and numb, your mind hazy and disconnected. slowly, your eyes flutter open. the room is blurry, the edges fuzzy. you try to move, but your limbs feel like lead. leon's face swims into view, his features distorted. "you had a bad dream," he murmurs, his voice sounding distant.

"just another nightmare, sweetheart. it’s okay, i'm here." his words are slurred, his face wobbly. you try to focus, but it's impossible. your vision starts to tunnel, fading to black. the last thing you hear is leon's gentle humming, lulling you back to sleep.

when you wake again, you'll have no memory of the nightmare, no recollection of the way he violated and degraded you. the drug will ensure that. all you'll know is that you slept fitfully and woke up feeling unwell.

tags: @crowleyco @arcane5019

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writinginpinkpink · 4 months ago

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The Price of Life. [0.1]

homelander x fem!reader

summary: Homelander saved you and gave you life, but with one rule: be utterly loyal to him. Despite this, you went beyond mere obedience and provided him with what he needed most: love.

warnings: homelander, violence, swearing, smut (eventually), a bit of stockholm syndrome?

masterlist | requests open! | next

You didn't expect this mission to be your last. It wasn't like this was your first time stealing Temp-V for Butcher. But something clearly went wrong as the last thing your eyes could register before your mind went blank was a Cape with the American fucking flag on it.

You felt your body give up, as if you could actually feel the life draining out of you, until a stinging sensation surged through you. Suddenly, everything felt painfully alive. Every nerve burned, and you felt everything. Your muscles relaxed and contracted, your heart pumped with such force it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.

Your eyes slowly opened, only to find a pair of intense blue eyes staring at you. The man was holding your head close to his chest. When he realized you were awake, he gave you an eerie smile, laughing to himself. Only now did you notice that the sleeve of his shirt was rolled up, blood dripping from his arm.

And only after noticing him did you see the needle still attached to your arm. You instantly got up, realizing what he had done.

"What the fuck did you do to me?" you yelled, even though you already knew the answer. You wanted to hear him say it.

"What about a 'thank you, Homelander! You saved my life' first?" he said, rising as well. You noticed the floor around you was covered in blood—your blood.

"For what? You tried to kill me just to save me?" you screamed, knowing that shouting at him was dangerous, but with his blood circulating through your veins, you felt every emotion sharply. "I tried to kill you? Believe me, if I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. I made you. I gave you life. I'm fucking Jesus to you. The Butcher didn’t save you, Starlight didn’t save you, not even fucking Hughie. And now you are blood of my blood, you are my family now, do you understand? It wasn't rhetorical. Answer it."

He yelled, getting closer with each sentence until you hit the wall. His hands found their way to your neck, squeezing it just hard enough to send a message, but not to kill you. You struggled to nod.

"Exactly. You are now mine, and I will carry you around. We will be the fucking face of America. You and me. We are the example this country wants. I'm your hero, and now you will dedicate your life to me." You weren't surprised by his words. Since you joined the Seven, Homelander had seemed infatuated with you, for whatever reason.

"I hope you understand that I gave you life and, with the same ease, I can take it from you." He said, releasing your neck and kissing your cheek, as if he genuinely believed the twisted couple dynamic he had created in his mind.

"Go take a shower," he demanded, pointing to the bathroom. Still confused about what this new relationship meant, you complied, your burning throat serving as a stark reminder to avoid angering him again.

As you showered, you tried to connect the dots. What did he mean by "suicide mission"? Hadn’t Butcher and Starlight tried to save you? You weren’t sure if it was his blood making you feel this way, but resentment began to grow in your chest. It always annoyed you how Butcher bossed you around and treated everyone as though they were merely stepping stones to his goals.

Besides, you couldn’t deny that Starlight pissed you off a bit. She constantly forced you into the role of her shadow, making you the supportive friend rather than the protagonist. Every autograph you signed was alongside hers, and if her popularity faltered, so did yours. You tried not to let it bother you, as people enjoyed seeing your friendship, but it infuriated you that you were seen as the weakest female member. You knew you could break Tinker Bell in half if you wanted to, especially now that you felt stronger than ever.

As you dried yourself off before leaving the shower, you realized that this relationship with Homelander might not be the worst deal. You would finally receive the recognition you deserved and maybe even inspire some young girls to be like you. Besides, Homelander did save your life—he didn’t just keep you alive, but he made you stronger.

#homelander #fanfic #homelander fanfiction #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander x y/n #the boys #the boys x reader #the boys x you #the boys x y/n #the boys fanfic

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cillianhead · 1 year ago

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Red Eyes || Cillian Murphy x Reader

summary: You and Cillian take a plane trip and a certain Jackson Rippner steals his spot.

PART TWO to A New Pair Of Glasses

put my vibrator on and smoked a j and then wrote away on this one so i'm so very sorry if it is bad or strange or something.

Enjoy my lovely readers <3

warnings: SMUT!!, unprotected p in v, DUBCON AND NONCON THEMES!!!, Daddy kink, vulgar language, swearing, choking, car/airplane sex / public sex, tight spaces, handjobs, oral sex (f and m receiving + reader sucks on his balls?!), slapping, spitting, claustrophobia, roleplay (Cillian is roleplaying as Jackson Rippner), some mentions of subspace/being in subspace sort of, some more dacryphilia, degradation, overstimulation, talks of FAKE! Explosives and talks of FAKE! plane crashes, biting, fake cheating scenarios, vibrators, and general adult content!!!

LONG FIC!!

18+ MINORS DNI

Standing in the crowded airport, you leaned against Cillian for support as you waited in line to check in your bags for your flight. You were going on a trip to New York, and the flight would be almost eight hours.

"How are you feeling, love?" Cillian whispered, subtly kissing your neck. "You nervous about our flight?" "I feel a little nervous... yeah..." You nodded, smiling softly up at him. "But we'll be fine... just... you know how I get..."

"It's alright, I'll be right there with you... the whole time," He hummed, resting his chin on your shoulder. The line was long and the waiting was tedious but at least you had the comfort of your boyfriend beside you.

After checking in and waiting for your flight, which wasn't for another hour and a half, Cillian and you decided to stroll along the airport stores, hand in hand.

"What's happening with that interview you have tomorrow?" You asked, leaning on him a bit.

"Oh... erm... I've forgotten his name..." Cillian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's literally something I had written down 'cause I t'aught it was funny..." Cillian groaned. "Oh... it was some bloke literally called Neil Lewis... some American guy..."

"No way," You laughed loudly, and Cillian looked at you, grinning fondly. "That's awesome, what's the interview even for?"

"I betcha a million bucks it's gonna be like sumn' about like..." He said these words while painting the air with his hands to make imaginary captions. "Neil Lewis.... and how he would react to different characters of mine..." He snickered and you laughed.

"That's a fun idea, though! Neil Lewis has always been a sweet spot of mine..." You sighed dreamily. You remembered when you and Cillian had first started talking and were only really doing all that sugar daddy stuff; you watched 'Watching The Detectives' for the first time. Of course, you hadn't seen all the Batman films at that point. You saw Inception when you were high and in some guy's Mom's garage and weren't comprehensive of what was happening except for when that one really sexy guy, Robert Fischer, showed up. That's when the movie had your attention. The guy was kissing your neck, and suddenly Robert showed up, and you didn't give a single shit about how hot the guy kissing you was; you'd look at the TV and moan louder than you did before. Neil Lewis had really awakened something else inside of you, though.

Something a little more tender.

He was just so cute, and as Violet said, 'You're like the sweetest guy I've ever met' (or something along those lines). You were sitting in a cute new little nightgown Cillian had bought you (oh, and a new vibrator with his initials carved in the middle). It was Valentine's Day, and unfortunately, he was in America shooting a film, and he wouldn't be back until the 17th. You were bratty and whiny, but you were grateful, and he knew that; you just liked to get sassy. You put on the romcom, an obvious choice as to why you picked it.

'Watching The Detectives' Starring Lucy Liu and Cillian Murphy.

You were already riled up when you saw him in the opening shot, but as time went on, you grew increasingly jealous of Violet and more in love with Neil Lewis, thus falling in love with Cillian Murphy. You remember calling Cillian up, despite the time difference, and rambling on about how cute he was in the movie.

Anyway... as you walk through the airport together and look at each other with your blazing love. Cillian lovingly kissed you on your forehead as you walked back to your gate.

"So about this flight..." Cillian cleared his throat after you walked along quietly.

"Yeah?" You hummed, tearing your eyes away from the cute dress you saw in one of those window stores and looked to Cillian with a grin.

"I won't be... erm... boarding on with you," Cillian cleared his throat. "I'm sitting in a different part of... de.... er... plane."

"What?!" You exclaimed, eyes widening and grabbing onto his arm tightly as you two swayed along. "What do you mean, Cill?"

"This flight is quite packed... and so I couldn't manage to fit us together so... yer gonna be in first class while I'm in coach..."

"What? Cillian? No... y-you take first class... you need it more than me..." You were pouting at him with the most pitiful eyes.

"No, baby... it's okay," Cillian hushed. "I'm sure you're gonna meet some guy in first class... who you can pretend is me..."

"I would never do that," You whispered, shaking your head insistently as you fiddled with the red ruby around your neck, thinking about Jonathan Crane. "Why would you say that?"

"It's okay, baby... you'll be able to sleep..." Cillian and you walked into a quiet little cafe. "They'll wake you right before we land... I doubt you'll be sittin' next to anyone since you're in first class..."

"Cillian... why didn't you tell me this sooner?" You whined, sitting down right beside him and clinging onto him while you still can.

"'Cause I know you'd never come if you realized we won't be sittin' together..."

"That's a fair point..." You mumbled, resting your head on his shoulder.

After sitting for a while and sipping the teas you had gotten from the airport coffee shop, it was time to board the plane. You wrapped your arms around Cillian and kissed him passionately.

"I'm gonna miss you so much... Cill..." You whispered against his lips breathily.

"I know, baby," He hummed, stroking your hair. "You're gonna do so good for me... you can handle it... I love you so much..."

"I love you..."

You couldn't dare look back as you walked off with just the weight of your onboard bag. You found your seat... and fuck, it was nice, you had plenty of legroom, and you could even push your headrest back so you could lie down. You watched people start to board the rest of the plane, waiting to see Cillian walk past, but he never did. You sighed and rested back in your seat, buckling up for the takeoff that always made you anxious.

"...F7... F8... Oh, here we go..." You heard an American accent from behind you and turned to look Cillian in the eyes. He had styled his hair differently and was wearing a completely different outfit from what he was wearing before. Cillian smirked as he coldly approached, and you realized what he was doing. He was being Jackson. Honestly, you had completely forgotten about that conversation you two had and didn't expect Cillian to follow through with it. "Oh, hello, seems we're sitting together?" He gave you a strange smile as he sat beside you and smirked. "The name's Jackson..." He reached out his hand for you to shake.

"Oh... it's... it's Y/N..." You smiled, playing along. It was unnerving the way he moved and spoke. It was truly like it was just another person who happened to look exactly like Cillian. Jackson shook your hand with a nod before receding back into his chair beside you.

The flight took off, and you clutched onto your seat for dear life, trying to ignore the feeling of having Jackson's eyes on you the whole time.

"You're a very pretty girl..." He hummed once you were in the air and could unbuckle yourself, looking at you with a tilted head and lustful eyes. "You got a boyfriend?" He asked as if he were interested.

"Y-Yes..." You nodded, feeling flustered, playing along with a hidden grin.

"Aw... that's a shame," He cooed mockingly. "If only he had been here... to protect you..."

"Wh-What?" You looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, laughing nervously. He just shook his head, scratching at his stubbly chin.

"Oh, don't worry," He reassured, mocking your trembling lip with a pout of his own. "I'm gonna take good care of you... sweetheart..."

"How... how...?" You stammered.

"You stupid slut," He spat, rolling his eyes at how pathetic you were. "You know how I'm gonna take care of ya..." Jackson's mouth got real close to your ear as he spoke the words, "I'm gonna fill that perfect little pussy with my seed..." He hissed.

"No... you can't... please..." You whimpered. About five or six people were sitting in the first-class cabin, yet luckily, none were sitting in front of you or behind you. "My boyfriend's in the... other cabin..."

"Oh, I know all about your little boyfriend... in fact... in the left pocket of his jacket... you see... I've been taking some sewing classes... and I was in your room one night while you were there, and he wasn't..." He laughed dryly, licking his teeth as he sucked in more air to speak. Your eyes were wide with horror and dismay... yet your legs squeezed together with arousal. "Anyway... as I was saying, in the pocket in his jacket is a tiny... yet very powerful explosive..."

"Wh-What...?" You panicked, speaking a bit too loudly. Jackson slapped a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

"If you don't do everything I say, I've got the remote here in my pocket and this whole fuckin' plane will go down over the Atlantic," He whispered, only loud enough for you to hear. "Do you hear me, bitch? I'm an impatient man. You're going to do every fuckin' thing I tell you to do or say bye-bye to your boyfriend and the death of everyone on this fuckin' plane..."

You nodded your head desperately, tears slipping down your cheeks. He pulled his hand off of your mouth and wiped your spit off his hand with your shirt. "I understand..."

"Good," He said gruffly, checking his watch. "They won't be bringing out any of the meals for another hour, so I say we have a little... fun while we wait for our meals... and then, of course... there'll be dessert after our dinner..." Jackson smirked.

"We'll get caught... we'll get in trouble," You protested, tucking your knees up into your chest.

"Oh babydoll, don't you know what I do for a living?" He snarked, flashing his sharp teeth at you in that cold, threatening smile. "I know how to do many things... and not get caught..." He whispered into your ear, biting at your neck. "Now open your legs for me. I'm gonna put this cute little vibrator in your pussy, do you understand?" "Al-Alright..." You slowly opened your legs. Your shorts were loose and thin, so you felt him slip his fingers up your thighs and in through the sides of your underwear.

"Fuck, you're soaking for me, princess..." He panted in your ear as he easily pressed two fingers into your cunt. "Doesn't that boyfriend of yours treat you well enough?" He teased. "I wasn't expecting you to be this turned on... I bet he doesn't make you cum enough, is that it?" His fingers began massaging your already sensitive G-spot.

"O-Oh... god..." Your head fell low as he continued panting in your ear, clearly getting affected by how good it felt to have his fingers inside of you. His cock strained against his tight sweatpants. "Jackson..."

"Wow, you gave in to that easily," He laughed, and you felt ashamed at how good you were feeling and how hard you were trying not to make much noise. It was good. The lights were quite dim since it was an overnight flight... everyone else was asleep or had their earbuds in. "You've gotta stay quiet, don't make me gag you," He demanded quietly as you saw the small pink vibrator that perfectly sucked on your throbbing clit. He slipped it into your underwear and turned it on... it was dead silent, but you could feel the intense vibrations. "Look at you, squirmin' for me, and that's only the first setting." His American accent was sickening and impossibly sexy.

"Jackson... I can't... it's too much," You dug your fingernails into the leather seats, clenching your teeth together. Your pussy quivered as he slipped his left hand into your underwear and covered you in a blanket provided to first-class flyers. Anyone walking by wouldn't even notice where his hand placement was. "I'm too... sensitive... it's too much, Daddy..." You whined, pressing your face into his shoulder and biting down on the material of his coat to quieten your stifled moans.

"Wow, look at that, I've got you calling me daddy..." He snorted, leaning back in his chair as he finger-fucked you and turned up the setting on your vibrator that sent crippling waves of pleasure through you. "Bet your real daddy wouldn't be too happy to hear that sweetheart..."

"You're not... you're not my daddy... it was a mistake..." You mewled quietly.

"I am right now, sweetheart," He took a whiff of your hair and bit back a groan. He was so turned on right now, and he wanted to drag you into the bathrooms and fuck you right now, but he wanted to prolong the pleasure for as long as possible. "I'm your daddy, say it... I'm gonna fuck you so much better than your daddy... gonna show you how a real man likes to fuck."

You caved in on yourself, squirming further into a ball as your entire body tensed. Your pussy clenched onto his fingers. Every time he flicked them out of you, a quiet yet distinct squelch of your arousal would be heard. Your orgasm lit you on fire, and he didn't slow down. In fact, his fingers moved even more precisely against your G-spot, causing you to croak and bury your face in your hands. You saw stars as you gushed around his fingers, and Jackson showed no signs of stopping as you came down from your high.

"Jackson... stop... stop it..." You cried, tears streaming down your face. "It hurts!"

"Oh, shut up, you spoiled brat," He grumbled, continuing to fuck you brutally with his talented fingers. "I saw what you did with that little doctor last week," He chuckled. "Your blinds are never closed... anyone passing by could see you whoring yourself out to other men..."

"Jackson, please... I just... I just need a break..." You whispered, flinching every time he massaged your spongy walls. He slowed down his fingers just a bit, it was enough to give you some relief.

"Does your daddy know about what you did with that doctor?" Jackson chuckled. "Imagine when he finds out about that... and finds out about... what you did with me on the plane..." He was getting off on your tears of guilt. "What a shame..." He whispered. "Especially since this means he'll have to cancel the reservation at that restaurant where... I'm pretty sure I saw him out shopping... the same day you fucked your doctor... could he have possibly bought a ring?" Jackson laughed mischievously. It would sound like someone told a funny joke to anyone else but to you... it was bloodcurdling at the realization of what he was implying.

"N-No..." You whispered, clutching at his wrist to slow him down.

"Would you have married him, or are you too much of a whore to settle down?" You could tell there was a deeper meaning in that question. Obviously, he was still playing along with the character. But you realized he wanted to know if you were ready for him to propose.

"Of... of course, I would have... I want to spend my whole life with him..." You whispered. "I... I... he doesn't have to know about what happened between my doctor and I..."

"I'll keep my mouth shut," He smiled with a rosy blush on his cheeks... burning through his cold demeanor. He grabbed a hold of you and kissed you sloppily, tongues and spit clashing together. He made out with you as he picked up the speed, and he was probably playing a dangerous game here by reaching up and groping at your tits. But the plane was dead silent, and he was getting desperate.

"Oh fuck... oh fuck..." You whimpered as he ran soft circles over your shirt, perfectly teasing your hard nipples. "I'm... cumming...." You whispered, arching your back into his hands, and you heard the familiar sound of him clicking the button to turn the vibrator up. You quietly thrashed around as he milked you for all you had.

"That's it... make even more of a mess all over my fingers..." He cooed, watching you throw your head back with your vision going black. "Such a fucking slut..." He grunted as he pulled his sticky fingers out from your underwear and popped them in his mouth. You watched, still mewling and squirming around with pleasure as you came. He closed his eyes and groaned with satisfaction as he licked his fingers clean. "Open your mouth,"

Hesitantly, you opened your mouth, and he grabbed your jaw roughly and spat onto your tongue. You moaned at the taste.

"Swallow it, bitch," He barked quietly, turning off the vibrator and slipping it back into his pocket. You had no idea how he managed to get that thing through checkage, but right now, you were too fucked out to care. "That's it..." He sighed happily as you gulped his spit down.

"Jackson..." You whispered, chest rising rapidly. "Need a break..." Jackson scoffed. "You're not gettin' one, princess," He chuckled darkly in your ear. "Right now, you're gettin' up and going into that bathroom there..." He points to the first-class bathroom. "And in five minutes, I will follow in after you... and you're going to take my cock... like a good girl..."

You opened your mouth to protest but he looked away with a firm nod of his head. "Go on, Y/N, or I'll fuck you right here."

You hurriedly stood up on shaky legs, smoothing out your shorts, and tried your best to act casual as you made your way to the tiny stall at the end of the aisle. Jackson's eyes burnt holes in the back of your head. You glanced back at him momentarily to see him smirking at you devilishly.

The bathroom was small and tight, but it was enough to fit you in it {almost} comfortably. The following five minutes were long and torturous as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your once neatly combed hair was now messed up like you had just gotten out of bed. Anxiously and insensibly, you looked over yourself in the mirror, making sure you looked good and fuckable for your boyfriend. Two soft raps were heard in your stall.

"It's me," Jackson mumbled. "Let me in."

You quickly unlocked the door, and just as quickly as it opened, it was closed and locked. Jackson didn't say a word; he just grabbed you by the throat and pushed you up against the wall. Fuck, it was cramped in here with the two of you. He immediately latched himself onto your neck and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to stop you from crying as his hands worked to undoing your top and bra.

"Fucking hell, of course you've got perfect tits," Jackson groaned, lowering his mouth even more to pop your nipples into his mouth. Jackson's mean glare relaxed into shut eyes and furrowed brows of concentration. He moaned into your tits as he now slid down your shorts til you were just in your shorts and your blouse was wide open. "Whore..." He growled demeaningly as he was now face to face with your throbbing cunt. "Look how wet your panties are..." He whispered, tracing his fingers along your clothed slit. "This all for me?" He smirked as he pushed your panties to the side and kissed your clit.

"Oh... oh... god... J-Jackson..." You whined breathily, pushing your hands into his hair as he sucked on your clit like it was a cherry lollipop. His lips sucked harshly on your bud as his tongue slipped down and lapped your arousal up. His mouth was sinfully talented, and with the impending pleasure, you squeezed his head with your quivering thighs. "Fuck... you eat my pussy so good... fuck... oh..." You were giving it everything you had to not scream as he slipped two fingers into your juice-gushing cunt.

You were simply the sweetest of them all. Cillian grew high off of the way you tasted. It was like no other, truly incomparable to anything. None of the ripest and sweetest fruits could even begin to beat the taste of you. He'd happily die right here with your pussy in his mouth and the sound of your pretty sighs. Despite the deafening grip your thighs had on his skull, he was reveling in the way he was completely wrapped up in you. Like you were a spider luring in prey, and now you've caught it. But let's not forget who's in charge here... of course, it's Jackson. He's not eating pussy to get her off. He's eating pussy to get himself off. It doesn't matter if she screams or cries for him to stop. If that's what he wants, he'll drink her up like the essence of life for the rest of time. And oh, how good your fucked out pussy tasted. Jackson made you cum over and over again on his tongue until you were sobbing and trying to shove him away from you, but you were so fucking dizzy and still in the middle of cumming, so you had the strength of a twig.

"Pl-Please... Jackson..." You mewled, tugging on the roots of his hair to get him off of your pounding cunt. "It's too much... please... it's too much... fuck... stop... please!"

Tears were streaming down your face, and with your blurred vision, you looked down to see Jackson's newly opened ice-cold eyes staring straight up at you. You had seen that look from him a million times. You knew how much Cillian loved eating your pussy, and at this point, it wasn't even about being his character but enjoying the feeling of your heavenly sex in his mouth. The look in his eyes was identical to what a blood-drunk beast would look like as it devoured its unwilling and innocent victim. His pupils were blown wide, and his nostrils flared at the sight of your overstimulated tears. And this only made his cock that much harder.

"I'm serious, stop... please..." You whimpered, eyes falling in and out of focus. It truly felt like he was consuming you. "F-Fuck... you've had enough... please... Jacks... Jackson..." Your head falls back as you dissociate from reality. The confined space of being in this airplane bathroom with him wasn't helping with the overstimulation. Jackson had you cornered, as a predator would with its prey, and there truly was nowhere else for you to go from here.

"Alright..." He panted, lips smeared in cum and arousal as well as his own spit. "Time for me to fill you with my fucking babies."

"Just need a break... please... I need a break..." You wheezed, leaning against the wall for support. "Please... Jackson... I don't think I can handle it..."

"Oh, but that's not what your cute little pussy is saying... is it now?" He purred, spreading your folds open with two lazy fingers to peek at the sight of your dripping hole. "I'm fucking you whether you like it or not, princess... don't fucking deny me of what I'm so fucking entitled to..." He growled as he manhandled you into being in a more bent over position. You were completely helpless to him now. "If you even make a noise, I swear to god..." He huffed as he shoved your now discarded panties into your mouth to gag you. You let your head hang low with shame as you heard him undo his belt and zipper. "You're gonna enjoy this, I know you are," He whispered condescendingly into your ear, swiping a falling teardrop off of your cheek and licking it off of his thumb.

Your eyes squeezed shut as he poked at your entrance with the thick head of his cock, slowly teasing it in and out. Not enough to honestly give you anything, but just enough to rile you up. You pressed your ass back into his hips, and he willingly slipped in his cock. Despite how overstimulated you were just moments ago... your pussy changed its mind and decided it needed cock like your entire life depended on it.

"Look at that," He cooed as he slowly rutted his dick in and out of you. "I didn't think you'd fit so snugly around my cock. I thought you were gonna be a loose whore based on all the men you sleep with..." He said, and you mumbled through your cotton panties, but it barely made a sound. "Fuck... I see why he wants to marry you now..." Jackson hissed as he began truly pistoning his cock in and out of you. The wet noises were disgustingly loud, and anyone walking past could hear what was happening and immediately be suspicious. As well as the sound of his hips clapping with your ass as he fed you with his cock. Your mind was completely blank, like a loading screen almost the feeling of his dick was the only thing that mattered to you, your mind barely perceiving anything else.

The claustrophobia you felt before was non-existent, and it no longer was clear to you that you were literally in an airplane bathroom. You felt like you genuinely just were made to be fucked in the best way possible. Only by Cillian, of course... or well... uh... Jonathan... or Jackson...

"Excuse me?!" A knock from the outside pulled you out of your dumb whore state and made you look back at Jackson with a panicked expression. "How much longer are you gonna be in there? I really need to use this bathroom!"

"Too bad, wait for another one," Jackson grunted to the unwanted customer. "I'm gonna be a while."

"For fuck's sake..." The stranger grumbled before you heard the sound of them waddling away.

"You heard that?" Jackson growled in your ear, piercing your G-spot with every thrust of his hips. "I'm gonna take my sweet time with you, princess..." He moaned, hips trembling a bit at how good it felt to fuck you like this. The thrill of doing this was also an aphrodisiac to this situation, only fueling the fire. Of course, you'd done sneaky little things like this with Cillian before, but nothing this... outrageous... this risky. "How will your boyfriend feel about getting back to your hotel to find you full of another man's cum?" Jackson was groaning quietly. He was on the edge of bursting inside of her, but he wanted to hold on just a little longer. "He's not gonna be very happy, hmm?" He laughed at your tears, feeling the way you squeezed around him and told him you were starting another orgasm. And holding on to the edge was getting much harder for Jackson... with the way your cunt was absolutely trying to milk him for his cum.

"Mmmphhff!!" You moaned through your cotton gag, now soaked in your spit. Jackson laughed at the sounds you were making. He grabbed ahold of you by your hair while also keeping a steady grip on your lower back to keep you in place. He yanked on your hair like you were just a doll and looked at your big red eyes, sore from all the crying.

"Keep on cryin' like that, baby," He huffed, squinting his eyes on your orgasmic face. "Gonna spill my load into you cause of how fucking pretty you look when you cry..."

You cried in shame and embarrassment but also in pure pleasure that he was making you feel with his cock alone. You felt the hot spurts of cum begin to fill you up, and with that sensation alone, you felt yourself coming undone again. Jackson used you like a fleshlight, painting the inside of you white with his seed and getting off on how fucking pathetic you looked with tears smeared all over your face as well as your tits hanging out of your top. He looked away from your wet face to your coincidentally gushing pussy. He had never seen you so wet before, and his cock slid in and out of you like a waterslide. His cum was spilling out of you as his orgasm intensified at the beautiful sight of what his cock was doing to you.

"Shit," He hissed. His movements were sloppy, but it didn't matter to you because you had pretty much left this realm with how fucked-out you were. "Fuck, I need you to have my kids," He cried out, and you noticed that little bit of Irish slip out in his shaky voice. "Need to see ya pregnant... and fuck... fuckin' plump with my baby in ya... and... everyone will know who you fuckin' belong to..." Cillian whimpered, his hands now on both of your hips as he stilled himself completely. He shot the last squirts of cum deep into your womb.

He panted heavily as he remained inside of you. You both came down from your highs collectively. He slowly pulled out of you and that softness that lingered in the air immediately dissipated as he pushed you roughly down on your knees, face smushed against his wet cock.

"Lick me clean, slut," He commanded, hand placing your head firmly against his cock. "Want to see how good you are with your mouth."

You closed your eyes as you sucked off his cock. He was biting his lip to keep in the soft moans. His cock was still highly sensitive, but fuck... the feeling of you licking and sucking on him like he was a lollipop or some kind of sweet treat. He watched you with hooded eyes as you kissed down his clean shaft, now only coated in your saliva. Your lips wrapped around one of his balls, and swirled your tongue around them softly. He let out a loud gasp, growing properly hard again at the feeling of your mouth on his balls.

"Fuck... open your mouth... I'm gonna cum again... fucking hell..." Jackson grumbled, pushing you off of him and stroked his cock with his tip on your tongue. "I want you to swallow every last drop..."

"Yes... sir..." You nodded obediently, mouth watering, ready for the taste of his cum on your tongue.

With one last groan, he released his sperm into your waiting mouth. "Oh... fuck... princesss..." He sighed, cum spilling from your full mouth. As you tried to gulp it all down. His cock twitched a few more times before he stopped and pulled away, panting for air.

You licked your cum-covered lips and chin, smiling dopily like you were stoned. He tucked himself carefully back into his underwear and did his pants and belt back up, all while smirking at you.

"Jackson..." You whispered, melting to the floor after putting your underwear back on.

"Cillian, now, love," He whispered, crouching before you to help you back onto your feet. "You did so good for me... I'm so in love with ya..." He kissed along your face, holding you in his arms. "It's okay... baby girl, I'm right here," You buried your face in his neck and breathed heavily. You stood there while hugging until Cillian was fully dressed and stepped out. You waited it out in there for a little longer. You looked at yourself with red eyes and a dazed expression on your face. What had just happened to you, if anyone were to see you, was pretty clear. So as you slipped out of the bathroom, you didn't notice the two air hostesses watching you leave the bathroom that reeked of sex and cum now.

Cillian was sitting calmly, reading a book, and when he looked up at you, his eyes were full of love and also a look of concern.

"You alright, baby?" He hummed, stroking your hair affectionately. You nodded and pushed your face into his soft shirt, whining. "What is it? Did I hurt you too much?" He whispered with knitted eyebrows.

"N-No... daddy..." You whispered and he knew immediately what was wrong.

"Oh... baby," He hummed, quickly realizing you could push the armrest between you up, and he did just that, scooting closer to you and pulling your legs over his lap to cradle you more. "You sweet thing... you did so good for me," He praised lovingly, leaning down and kissing you softly. The position was a little suggestive to onlookers but not quite enough to necessarily get you in any trouble. "You're so fuckin' beautiful," He whispered with your spit drenching his lips, teeth, and chin. "Best girl... my best girl," He muttered before placing wet, sloppy kisses on the crowns of your forehead. "I love you..."

"I love you... Cill..." You smiled sleepily up at him, pussy mildly throbbing as you looked up at him. You just felt heavy with love and primal desire. It was hard to even focus on what you were saying or doing. Too preoccupied with taking in everything Cillian was doing. In a way, it was as if you were feeling everything he was feeling as if you had become one in mind and soul, both just existing, eternally connected and synced. It was symbiotic and so full of love. "You take such good care of me..."

Cillian laughed softly and kissed your face harder. "I could never care more about anything than you..." He hummed into your scalp. "You're my girl... you're... my world."

After those six words, nothing else really was comprehensive for you. You two cuddled up for the rest of the flight until you were made to buckle up for the touchdown. The long and treacherous journey of getting off an airplane into one of the busiest airports in the world was all a mind-numbing bore to you, and all your mind could really focus on was that Cillian was by your side with his hand resting on your lower back, guiding you through the maze-like hallways. In fact, you were in a trance at the way his arms looked carrying the heavy bags. You practically drooling with your lips parted, nearly wanting to take a bite from him. His arms drove you crazy, and the pure strength that he radiated from his body... that older, warm man.. sort of energy.

"C'mon, honey, this way, we're catchin' a car," He wrapped you up in one of his arms as he pushed along the trolley with your suitcases on it. "Don't wanna lose ya in New York City..." Cillian chuckled, and you just smiled up at him, silently looking around in amazement. "Still bein' quiet for me? Tha's okay, love, take your time..." He whispered sweetly.

You sat in the back of a black car, headed to a hotel on the city's other side. You sat in the middle, leaning on Cillian to rest as he looked down at you, the rising sun shining on his face angelically.

"Cillian..." You mumbled into his shoulder. "I'm cold."

"Yeah, baby, that's okay... you can hug me, c'mere... let me hold ya..."

This time, Cillian wrapped you up into his arms and ran his hands up and down your body. Checking into the lobby was long and tedious and dealing with Americans and other women ogling at Cillian made you want to puke your guts out. Like... stop looking at him like that. It was irritating the way they looked at you too, but at this point, you were too tired to care.

"Go on, baby... they've already sent our luggage to our room. I'll meet you there... Just gonna get us a snack..." He whispered in your ear as he was speaking to the receptionist. "It's okay..." He slid you one of the key cards to the room and patted you on the back. Hesitantly, you looked at him with a pout before walking to the elevator to find your room.

You were on one of the top floors of the tall building, and the hallways were long and white and blinding. It took you around another ten minutes to find your room. You sighed as you unlocked the door at the sound of a loud *BEEP* and waddled your way in; you let out a bloodcurdling scream at the sight of a man sitting on your bed with a sickening smile.

"Hello, darling," Jackson's cold voice chuckled in the dark. "I guess you weren't expecting me..." He laughed as he stood up from the bed. Your heart dropped, and part of you panicked... stupidly, you knew it was just Cillian continuing this little affair you were having. But part of you genuinely believed that it was Jackson, and you thought Cillian was downstairs, utterly unaware of this. He was so convincing.

"Wh-What...?" You murmured dumbly as he walked over to the door and locked it behind you.

"Oh darling, did you miss me?" His eyes in the dark were still eerily bright and unnerving, pupils blown wide as he looked at you like an owl in the night. "I bet your little pussy did," He said in faux sympathy, his hand cupping you through your shorts. You still hadn't fully recovered from what you two did just four hours ago, or however long it had been. "I can feel how hot you are for me..." Jackson spat. You were so entranced by what was happening that you didn't notice the complete outfit change. He was wearing a full suit. How would Cillian have time to beat you to your room and also get changed into a nice suit? But you didn't care. He was here, and that was all that mattered.

"Jack-Jackson... Cillian will be back... at any moment..." You whimpered as he pinned you against the wall and tugged your shorts down. "He'll... He'll hurt you... for touching me!" Jackson laughed wildly at your whimpering.

"Oh baby, I'd like to see him try," His laugh was sadistic and that of a villain's. "Think I'd... strap him to a chair and make him watch as I fuck you better than he ever could..." Jackson growled, pulling off his clothes. "Imagine how jealous he'd be... seein' me treat you like a whore, taking my cock so nicely... bet he'd never be able to look at you the same way again..."

"Jackson..." You said with tears in your eyes.

"Oh, you gonna cry more?" He snickered as he curled his fingers around your throat and pushed you down onto the bed. As quickly as you fell, he was on top of you, undoing his pants. "Fucking hell... thought about this tight pussy... gonna have to fill it with all of my cum..."

"Pl-Please... I'm still too sensitive..." You whispered and squeezed your eyes shut as he pulled your shorts down completely and ripped open your shirt. He was treating you like an inanimate object.

"Oh shut up, I know you fucking want me," He huffed. Your underwear was pushed to the side now, and the tip of his cock was pressing into your used hole. "Fuck..." Jackson groaned, shutting his eyes as your cunt squeezed around him like a vice.

"Please... I can't... I can't do anymore..." You cried, trying to push him off you, but it was no use. Your arms were like noodles at the moment. "Jackson..."

"Your pussy says otherwise," He laughed menacingly before slowly pulling back out with just his thick head in you. "You're so cute when you cry..." He snapped his hips back into you roughly, and you mewled as he brushed against your G-spot.

"Oh!" You cried. His hands groped at your tits as he began fucking you like some sort of inanimate sex doll. You couldn't deny the pleasure that was mixed in with the pain. It was all-consuming and truly debilitating. "Fuck..." Tears were slipping down your face as your body bounced with each thrust.

Jackson was fucking you like a feral animal, with absolutely no concern as to how you were feeling. Sweat was dripping down his neck, his pelvis slapping against your swollen clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your trembling body. God, it was shameful how good he fucked you. Cillian was really giving it his all to be this character.

"So fucking easy," He grunted. "You're such a fucking whore..." He growled. His American accent was spot on and eerily felt like someone else was talking and not Cillian.

"J-Jackson... you need to slow down... you're hurting me..." You whined as he pulled out of you and shoved you over onto your stomach before shoving his fat cock back in you. "O-Oh!" You choked out, reaching out your arms and gripping the bedsheets. "Slow... slow down... Jackson..." You whined, pressing your face into the sheets as you moaned pathetically.

"Shut the fuck up," He hissed, holding your plush hips in his hands as he rocked you back and forth on his cock. Jackson was loving the sight of your ass bouncing back and forth while he fucked you like a doll. The way he was fucking you was simply animalistic. Like he was the predator and you were the prey, he had found your weak spot, and he was now tearing you open, licking his teeth as he prepared you to eat. "Take my cock like a good girl would, bitch."

"Fuuuuuuck...." You cried out dizzily, mouth gaping wide as he tugged on your hair from behind. It was like a shot out of a porno, the sickening way his skin slapped against yours, or the way his hips were like literal pistons, drilling in and out of you. Meanwhile, the harsh grip on your hair was lulling you into a state of pure sex. You truly did not give a fuck what was happening, too distracted and in love with the fullness of his cock, fucking like all you were good for. "Jackson... Jackson.... please... fuck... please!" You weren't quite sure what you were trying to say. Your brain was no longer in coerce with your teeth and tongue and you were just spewing out broken sentences.

"What? You gonna cum?" He laughed sadistically. "That's right, cum on my dick, get it wet."

"Ernghhggghhg....." You drooled, moaning as he dropped your hair and quickly grabbed at your ass to fuck you further into your orgasm. Gee, you hoped the walls were thick with how loud you were being. With the slamming headboard and the way you were screaming for it, the surrounding hotel guests and people passing by in the hallways outside would surely hear every echo of it.

"So pretty when you're cockdrunk," Jackson grunted. "Bet your pretty boyfriend never fucks you like this... bet he's never got you seein' stars," His American accent made you squeeze. And in a way, he was right. You had never been so thoroughly spent as you were right now, and every nerve in your being was lit in some sort of rampageous flame and was endlessly burning in the pleasure. "Mmmm... I'm right... and you know it." He slapped your ass hard, having you seeing stars hanging around the room.

"J-Jaaaaccck...." You whined, pussy clenching down on his cock.

"Fuck..." He hissed disapprovingly. "Don't fuckin' do that, bitch... I'm not cumming in you yet."

"Please..." You whined. "Please, I need you... daddy... please..."

At this point, you were too dumb to realize it truly wasn't Cillian who was fucking you. You'd never call another man daddy if it weren't Cillian, no matter how in love or obsessed you were with that person, no man could ever be your daddy the way Cillian is. There was something fundamentally twisted inside of you that you didn't realize or immediately recognize the fact that this cock wasn't uncut and was a different shape. But anyway... on with the story...

"Aw... daddy?" He cooed mockingly. "You need your daddy?" Jackson cackled, gripping your hips in a painfully hard way, enough to leave hand-shaped bruises. "That's right, I'll cum in you... you can make me a daddy..." He smirked. "You're gonna take all that cum I give you and make us a fuckin' baby."

"Fuck... whatever you want..." You sighed, still delirious on pleasure. "Please... just want you to cum in me... please..."

Jackson chuffed cheekily and continued using you like some sort of cum-dump. "You're gonna do good in being full of my cum... I think you'll be able to handle it."

You nodded helplessly; your ass and your hips were throbbing with the way he was holding you. A never-ending give-and-take pushing you over the edge over and over again. It was a miracle when he finally came, groaning and moaning.

"Fuck, take it, milk my fucking cock," Jackson moaned loudly, throwing his head back and his hair splayed out on his face. His cum was thick and strong, hitting you like some sort of shotgun. You moaned with each spurt, gasping for air with how much arousal you were spilling from your used cunt.

"Oh... fuck..." You whispered, biting into your arm. "So good... so good... daddy..." He groaned as he pulled out of you and pushed you down onto the bed carelessly, not even bothering to watch how his load slowly leaked from your pussy or even to watch you finger it back in cherishingly.

"Wh-Where are you going, Cillian?" You asked softly, looking back up to meet him in the eyes. A chill went down your spine at the sight of his slightly longer hair and lighter-colored roots; he stared at you with the face of a thirty-year-old man, not a forty-year-old one. You were so confused and still so out of it.

Jackson just laughed and pulled his pants back on, grabbing his things before waving goodbye as he walked out of the room. What the fuck just happened? Cillian was doing a convincing job at how he was playing this Jackson character. You wondered how long he would be gone for. You needed comforting. You tucked yourself into bed with shaky legs and tears because Cillian wasn't there. You really needed him to hold you and to hear his voice.

Eventually, after about a dozen tears were shed, the door cracked open, and Cillian came with two small plates of cake for you to eat. "Oh baby, was I gone that long?" Cillian whispered, setting the plates down neatly on the bedside table. "I'm so sorry, my sweet girl," He whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed and kissing you on the forehead. He seemed... so... not sweaty... and different. You stayed quiet and just nodded sadly as he pulled away and quickly got changed.

He crawled into bed with you, pulling the covers up, and quickly wrapped you up in his arms. "Daddy..." You whispered.

"Mmm?" He hummed while brushing your hair with his fingers.

"You were really rough with me... just then..." "What?" He asked with a confused tone. "What do you mean? I'm so sorry... did I sit on your hand or something?" "N-No... I'm talking about when... you were just in here... doing Jackson..."

"What do you mean?" He sat you up now. You two were sitting in each other's arms and staring at each other. His eyebrows were knitted as if he didn't recall what just happened. "I did pretend to be Jackson... on the plane? Yes?" He nodded, trying to see where you were going with this.

"No... I'm not talkin' bout the plane, silly..." You shook your head, laughing softly. "Just now... in the room... when you... you know... from behind..." You bit your lip, looking down at the sheets that were covering your bare legs entangled with Cillian's.

"I haven't been in here for..." Cillian hummed while checking his watch for the time. "Twenty minutes or so?" He looked back up at you, blue eyes flashing even more confusion. "Did you fall asleep and have a wet dream about daddy?" Cillian teased, leaning in and nuzzling your cheek while giggling.

"N-No! It was real... what do you mean?" You asked, now slightly offended that Cillian was trying to trick you. But part of you was putting the pieces together in your head, even if they didn't make sense. "Cillian... I've still got your cum... dripping out of me..."

"That must've been from earlier," Cillian sighed as he laid you back down, still in a laughing fit. "You're so cute... baby... can't believe you dream about me..." Cillian laughed, not noticing your silence. He looked up at the ceiling with a big grin on his face while you just pressed your face to his chest in hopes of it calming you down. Your eyebrows were furrowed deeply, and your mouth held a heavy frown. "Do you dream about me often?"

"Yes... but this wasn't a dream... Cillian... why are you trying to make that up? I'm being serious..."

"Love, I haven't been in here this whole time..." Cillian said a bit more seriously. He ran his thumb along your cheek lovingly. "You must've just fallen asleep... and had a little sexy dream about 'ye old Jackson Rippner."

"Yeah..."

"I know how sleepy you can get," Cillian whispered before pecking you softly. He talked against your lips, and for a brief moment, as if a screen were flashing, you saw Neil Lewis talking to you hotly against your lips, his breath and yours connected. He had you pinned on the couch. It was straight out of that scene with Violet and Neil on his couch. But as quickly as it came, it left. "We did travel quite a lot."

"Yeah..." You whispered, still taken aback by your vision. "Erm... let's just go to sleep... Cillian... I'm really tired..."

"Okay... yer not upset by me are ya?" He asked softly as you laid down and got into your usual spooning position. You faced away from him with that look on your face.

"No, baby, I'm just tired..." You whispered with red eyes. "Please just hold me... I love you so much..."

"I love you too, darling..." Cillian hummed, kissing along your shoulders. "Goodnight, my love, sweet dreams."

"Goodnight..." You murmured back absentmindedly.

Eventually, Cillian was snoring softly behind you, and though you felt sleepy, you just lay there and stared at the glowing clock face. You truly felt like you were going crazy. Why would Cillian lie to you and say that that was just a dream? You glanced down at your hips, which now held faint purple bruise-like indents from where Cillian had held you so hard. That did happen, right? You didn't dream that. Your dreams are never that vivid... or realistic.

Or maybe you were that tired? You have been traveling a lot. It was literally impossible for a movie character to come to life and fuck you. Right? You're just tired and confused, that's all. It was a dream. You convinced yourself.

Just a dream.

Just a...

Harmless...

Little...

Dream...

You repeated in your head as you let yourself fall asleep.

Was it?

EHEHEHEH ENJOY <3 I CAN'T WAIT TO RELEASE THE THIRD PART YAYAYAAYAYY!!!

(there will be a part 3 and it'll be the last part)

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #neil lewis #neil lewis smut #neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives #jackson rippner #red eye #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner smut

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divinehedons · 1 year ago

Text

nothing good.

navigation: masterlist

pairing: javier peña x foreign journalist!afab!reader

word count: ~3k

summary: javier peña recounts a tumultuous affair with you, one that while all-consuming, occured only within the span of three meetings.

warnings: this fic contains explicit sex, minors DO NOT interact! p-in-v sex, canon-typical corruption and javi's morbid consumption of cigarettes, angst angst angsty angst.

note: this is a self-indulgent fic written with getaway car on repeat in the background. because of that, i've started singing it as, "javi in the getaway car." i hope you enjoy and thank you so much for the influx of support! reblogs and comments are much appreciated!

"Do you remember how we met, cariño?" he whispers, quickly followed by the sound of a long exhale. A motion so familiar, you could swear you smell the menthols he always smoked; lounged in bed, in the office, after a long day, on the walks you both took.

It was that train of thought that pulls you back to the day you yourself remembered well. The threshold of you and Javi. It was a humid evening, like any other humid evenings you had in Bogota. The racuous night life, ruled mostly by hijinks and crime, and the smell of electricity in the air. You remember the dress you wore that evening. You remember feeling sort-of-nice about yourself.

His version: he was on the lookout for a tip about a syndicate in the city, some loose connection to Escobar with a few boys. You, the helpless, lost, and lovely little lamb who happened to knock on his car window asking if he can help you find your hotel. That he looked like a cop, anyway, so you thought you'd ask. He's met enough of the lost tourists every now and then, although none as pretty or as goddamn fuckable as you were. So of course he drove you back; he flirted tooth and nail to get in your bed, too. He didn't get the collar for the arrest when their target did eventually show up. But he didn't mind it one bit.

Your version of the story varied in some aspects.

Your version: Escobar had lured enough attention to fly you out to Columbia- you, the pretty face that could get through places your colleagues couldn't go to. You got close that evening, even meeting with a local dealer with your bashful eyes and a few drinks at the local watering hole. But the moment he feels up your skirt, you knew you had to get away. So you pretend to go to the restroom, using the nearest payphone to call in a tip, and then climbing up the bathroom window and into the back alley where you slipped away. Five minutes later, you see the typical undercover cop, not as undercover as he thinks he is.

So you decided to save him, knocking on his window with the flirtiest smile on your face. It's easy to know what he wants, with his eyes sneaking glances at the valley of your chest, the curves of your body. It's easy when you lean over to kiss his cheek as thanks.

"I'm Javier, what's your name?" You look over with a small smile and reply with your own.

"Nice to meet you, Javier."

The decision is right there, so you take it. You fuck a cop so you can hide the inklings of suggestions that can expose your doing.

"We fucked that night, didn't we?" You hear him laugh at the other end, your crass wording summarizing the excitement of that evening.

But you did fuck. His moustache nuzzling against the crook of your neck as his cock drives you wide open, your legs on his shoulders, your moans forever echoing within the receses of his brain even when he left you, satiated and reporting back to process the paperwork of the arrest he didn't get to make.

Sometime before that, though, you find out he's more agent than cop. It turns out, men are much more willing to talk when they're fresh post-coitus. He speaks about the American South momentarily, evidently guarded. He cups his hand over the match you lit up, chasing the flame to light a cigarette as he makes his first awkward excuse to get out of your room. You laugh at him, turning over to call for room service as he dresses himself.

"See you never, cowboy."

He thinks of your warm cunt on the long night that follows after. The taste of your wetness would remain in his memory even after the next time he fucked a different girl; an ambitious lady of the night he wanted to recruit as his spy. You'd haunt him as your laughter emanates when the nights are too quiet, trailing before those four words he mutters under his breath when memory hits him too strongly.

See you never, cowboy.

—

From the other end of the line, he mutters something in Spanish, knowing you understand very little. "Fuckin' haunted me like a ghost, baby." Another deep breath, this time followed by the swig of whisky. "Funny thing was, the next time I saw you, you were coming outta prison."

"To be fair, Peña, I was recovering a stolen camera." You laugh too. "And it was a police station."

Ah, that stolen camera. Javier remember the day when he would have knelt before that camera of yours in complete submission for bringing him back in your life.

He had been checking in on Carrillo, a week or so after, planning out the fragments of their next plan of action when he sees you, fuck eyes and all, right at the front desk of the station, flipping frantically through a Spanish-English dictionary in an attempt to try and understand the procedure you were supposed to be doing.

He leaned against the doorway for a moment, finishing the last of his cigarette before chuckling as he exhaled the smoke. "She said you're supposed to fill out the form," he finally said, watching your head turn and recognize his voice as he tips his head slightly. "Did you get into trouble or somethin'?"

It takes a moment for you to collect the form and make your way to him while the officer disappears to retrieve your belongings, a moment before you settle down into the nearest seat beside him with a breathy thanks, searching your bag for a pen. "No, no trouble... My camera got snatched while I was exploring the city. It was empty, but I'm glad it turned up again."

When you finish filling up and handing over the form, he stands beside you, easily translating between you and the officer. An affair that had been going on for half an hour, over and done with barely fifteen minutes since Javi saw you.

He takes the chance before you slip between his fingers again.

"At the risk of being painful turned down by a pretty woman, d'you maybe want to go out tonight?"

You look to him, and he barely catches the glint of hope, maybe even mischief, in your eyes. But you play it along, tilting your head to the side as if weighing your own options. It was a foregone conclusion. You've been thinking about him, too.

"C'mon. I'll show you around like a true local."

You sigh, smiling lightly as you reach for his hand, scribbling the hotel you were at now and the room number.

"Tonight at 8, Javier. I'll be waiting."

Admittedly, you had your own reasons for involving yourself with the agent. Because, in the week beforehand leading up to the robbery of your camera, you knew you were being followed by unsavory company. You knew too much. You talked to too many people. You linked too many powerful people to a much bigger conspiracy.

You understood, most of all, that these men were capitalizing on troubled people battling their own addictions.

You had to get out of the country. You had to get out fast. And when you did, you had to make sure the incriminating photos you had taken were in the hands of someone who wouldn't destroy them.

The evening rolls around and you dress up well, applying the finishing touches of your lipstick when you hear the knock on the door. It's the image of him, leaning against the doorway, with his leather jacket and combed hair, reeking of menthols. It's how you'll always remember him.

"Ready to go, sweetheart?"

You smile at him, slipping on your cardigan while you fiddled with the prints in your pocket. The folded up collection of evidence that could very much have you killed.

"Born ready, agent."

The evening he planned was conventional, albeit the order different. The stereotypical dinner and a movie for him became a movie and then dinner. The reason was logical enough. "Well, that way, I'm sure we have something to talk about over dinner and it's not awkward." You laugh, but you eventually remark it as a smart move.

He takes you to see Indiana Jones, and he flirts hard. He plays off slipping his arm around your shoulder. He plays off pulling you close to him. He plays off sneaking popcorn from your tub. You play it off too. You play off the fact that you could've caught him staring at you for half of the movie. You play off the fact that you eventually lean your head on his shoulder. You even play off the way you hold the hand from the arm he had wrapped around you, pretending you didn't see the way it produced a shit-eating grin to his face.

Javi takes you for empanadas after. letting you talk about how much you enjoyed it, how you crushed on Harrison Ford (He's so smart, isn't he?), and even how you'd never survive such scenarios.

"You worry your head too much, pretty baby."

Somehow, between empanadas and the late night haze, you end up tugging Javier back to your hotel room, giggling like a teenager as you kiss him again, his mouth, where skin was uncovered by his moustache, had turned rouge from your lipstick and the way you kissed each other so hungrily.

He pushes you into the room just as you giggle and tear your cardigan off. "Hm, thank you for tonight, agent," you whisper, pulling him close for another kiss as he shuts the door behind him. He chuckles deeply, thick fingers trapping themselves in your hair as he tugs, forcing you to tilt your head back so he can attack the expanse of your neck.

"So respectful, pretty lady. It's why you're such a good fuck—"

You laugh, fingers reaching blindly to unbutton his shirt, to free him fast enough of his clothes. He's not so patient. He simply grabs and tears your clothes open, a brute show of strength that leaves your head spinning and your knees weak. All of it, happening so fast, until he was fucking you from behind, your hands gripping the headboard as the torrent of desire overtakes you both.

"I'm starting to think you love this cunt, Javier," you moan out, earning a growl from him as he wraps his large left hand around your neck, pulling you back so you arch your back for him. It makes you squeal, moaning into the warm, humid air of the Colombian evening.

"Maybe I do, corazon. What'ya gonna do about it?"

Just then, he thrusts the hardest, spearing you wide open. The sound that comes from you is so heavenly he almost thinks he just heard an angel sing to him.

"That's it. Take it like a good girl..."

It is the image of your face, features induced by an orgasm that he almost started believing again. He, who left a woman on the altar, the eternal betrayer. He, who had fucked his way through the prostitutes of Bogota. He, who looked at every woman from head to toe. He, the eternal womanizer, brought to his knees just by you.

Perhaps that was why fate had brought you into his life. To teach him a lesson he'll never forget.

That time around, he's not tripping over himself to get out of your room, completely basking in the way you look, chest heaving as he retrieves the packet of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. It's that brief distraction that you use, not only to slip the folded up prints in the pocket of his pants in the other end of the room, but to get the camera you just got back, loaded with new film as you take a picture of him with a fresh cigarette between his lips.

The flash that goes off reveals your intentions. "Now, now, you didn't ask if you could do that, pretty baby," he says smoothly, puffing out smoke, letting the tension build between you. You smile cheekily at him, winding the reel forward. It takes a moment, but you recognized it in his eye.

Just as easily, he pounced at you with the renewed beastly strength of a panther, pinning you down and smirking at the sound of your giggling, hair sprawled beneath you as he grabs the same camera, taking a photo of you, laughing and smiling so brightly he would've thought you were the sun.

When your laughter fades, it's when you speak to him. It's as if you could never trick him as you planned to beforehand. "I... I left a few prints in the pocket of your pants."

He pauses, cigarette now halfway done as he raises his brow.

You think, retrospectively, that you recognized the moment the palatable magic between the two of you fades into nothing. That you recognized the moment the dream ended and reality set in.

He stands, smudging out his cigarette as he inspects his pockets. And there it was, the pictures you never meant to see, the pictures that you knew would greatly help the manhunt against Escobar. The path that would lead Peña to fulfill his duty.

"Where—"

"I don't think it matters."

He sends you a glare, turning over to the next print. And then the next, and then the next. "You lost the fuckin' right to tell what does or does not matter." Then, methodically, he folds them up and sets them down on the ruined sheets. "Are you some fuckin' snitch?"

It was your turn to glare, sitting up from where you lay on the floor, hands propping you up behind. "No—" you began, "I do this for a living, Javi."

Perhaps that was when he knew that it was over. He tries not to show it: the sweet shock as sharp as a gunshot wound.

Again and again and again, the same words you said when he first met you echoes in his ears. A warning, he now sees, that he should have listened to when he had the chance.

See you never, cowboy.

—

From then on, it became an administrative affair. You never saw him— but they spent agent after agent organizing your escape from the country without your head getting blown off.

The last time you saw Javier Peña, it was the night the Embassy was driving you to the airport, guised under a different name. Left alone in a small office space, he looks to you like a wounded puppy, betrayed and barely hiding his hurt.

"Is it such a mystery?" you ask him, turning away to pretend to fix your hair in a mirror. Really, all you wanted to do was to stop seeing his puppy-eyed face. Because, you knew too, that one word from him would be enough to make you stay, safety be damned. "You know the place where you first met me. I was always going to leave first."

He scoffs, standing up and walking away.

There were two versions of the last meeting:

Your version: the last thing you saw of him in Bogota was his wide shoulders, turned away from you, walking away and shutting the door to give you some so-called privacy. You grit your teeth, clenching your fists around the letter you wished to give him before you left. You turn around, dropping it into the nearest bin. The conclusion of an affair marked for a messy end. "See you never, cowboy."

His version: you, disappearing into the backseat of an unmarked car. In the early evening, he sees the silhouette of your frame, calmly seated as the car started, driving away into the dark Columbian evening. The shadow of you, riding away in a getaway car. He puffs the last smoke out of his cigarette, dropping it in the ashtray to allow the last embers to burn through whatever was left. Then he turns around, going back to his work without another word said.

He should've known. Nothing good starts in a getaway car.

—

He called you, now months later, when he received an envelope containing only two prints, shipped all the way from another land. The prints made it evident from who he receive the package.

It was the two pictures the second time he fucked you. Moments before everything fell apart and set you flying away like shrapnel.

Bogota, to you, had become a distant memory. A job you did some time ago. If it wasn't for Javier, you would have never remembered the name of the city. Not when the rest of the world was brimming with stories.

Bogota, to him, now only existed with the shadow of you. He catches himself, every now and then, thinking about how you'd enjoy the new movie they released over the weekend. How you'd hold on to his arm and talk his ear off about the things he found interesting. How the beds he found himself laying on contained the ghost of your perfume.

So he buried himself in work. And then slowly, he fucked other people just to find traces of you in their willing bodies and dark rooms. It was never the same. And he's starting to think it'll never be the same.

Having recounted everything, the two of you listen to each other's breaths, not caring for how expensive such a call was going to be.

"So..." you tried to start, clearing your throat. "Why did you call?"

He thinks about it himself for a moment. He swallows once. Then another time.

"You know, if you asked, I would have shared my life with you."

#javier peña #javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña smut #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut

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metallicaislife · 1 year ago

Text

The Interview

Requested by: Anon

Genre: 18+ smut minors dni

Word Count: 705

Warnings: oral(f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex

I sat in my seat going over my notes for my interview with Kirk Hammett.

“You’re really pretty.” Kirk said with a smile as he sat across from me. I looked up from my notes.

“Thank you, you’re not bad yourself.” I responded.

“Wait, shit is this rolling?” He asked, nodding to the camera.

“Yes, but I’ll keep that bit to myself.” I winked, “Y/N.” I said, holding out my hand. Kirk put his hand in mine giving it a firm shake.

“Kirk. But you already know that.” He said, taking his hand back. “I know who you are too, I’ve seen your interviews.” He smiled, my eyebrow quirked up.

“Let’s hope this one goes well.” I said.

“I have a feeling it’s going to go very well.” He smirked.

“Alright let’s get this started.” I said, “Hello, this Y/N with Rock City, and I am interviewing Mr. Kirk Hammett of Metallica. Thank you for letting us chat with you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” He replied.

“You’re ending your North American tour here in the next couple weeks, what are your plans after that?” I asked.

“We have a couple weeks off, then we’ll travel to Europe and continue the tour.” He answered.

I asked a few more questions pertaining to the tour, and music.

“There was a poll on our show, and you won best looking guitarist. How do you feel about that?” I asked. Kirk smirked.

“I’m honored, do you agree with the results?” He asked. I felt my cheeks heat up.

“Absolutely.” I replied. “Thank you for taking the time to chat with us, good luck with the rest of the tour.” I said to him, our eyes were locked. He broke our eye contact as he looked at the camera.

“Thank you. Everyone watching at home, thank you for your support.” He waved.

I ended the interview and was packing up. The room had cleared, and I did my best to ignore the fact I was left alone with Kirk. I turned to see what he was doing. Butterflies erupted in my tummy as I found his gaze on me. He stalked toward me like a predator.

“If I’m out of line, just say so.” He said as he placed a hand on my cheek.

“Not even a little bit.” I replied.

Our lips met in a feverish kiss. I wrapped my arms around him as he gripped my ass. He backed me against a wall. He pulled away and started playing with the button on my pants. He made eye contact with me as if to ask permission. I nodded and he pulled them down. He knelt in front of me. He tapped my leg and I stepped further apart. He leaned up and started eating me out. I moaned as I gripped his hair tightly.

“Oh fuck… yeah just like that.” I squirmed against the wall. He held my hips tightly, stilling me. He slipped two fingers inside of me and curled them.

“Oh god, Kirk, yes.” I moaned loudly. He continued until I came on his face. He pulled away, wiping his chin. He stood back up and pulled his cock out, he stroked it a couple times then stepped to me angling himself so he could thrust in. His lips met mine and I could taste myself on his tongue. This was hands down the best goddamn interview I’ve ever conducted.

I clutched onto him as he mercilessly rutted into me.

“So fucking hot. Squeezing me so tight.” He said and kissed my neck. I screamed as I came. Kirk’s hand came over my mouth.

“Don’t need to let everyone know you’re getting dicked down by the best looking guitarist.” He said it so seriously and I giggled against his hand. He came soon after. After we caught our breath. He pulled away and tucked himself into his pants. He leaned down and helped me pull up my pants buttoning them. He waited for me as I grabbed my bag. I wiped my forehead and fixed my hair. We stepped out of the room. His bandmates waited in the hall looking bored.

“Good interview?” James asked.

“The best.” Kirk answered with a cocky grin.

Thank you for reading! Feel free to request or chat :)

-Isa

#metallica x reader #metallica #metallica imagines #metallica scenarios #kirk hammett x reader #kirk hammett #kirk hammett smut #metallica smut

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mariacallous · 2 months ago

Text

Abortion is a top issue in the 2024 election, with a “growing share of voters in swing states now say[ing] abortion is central to their decision this fall,” according to Times/Siena College polls published in August. It is the “single most important issue” for women under 45.

On September 3, Vice President Kamala Harris began a “Fighting for Reproductive Freedom” bus tour in Florida, a state the Democratic Party has lost in the last two presidential elections, but which has abortion on the ballot this year. On November 5, citizens of Florida will be able to vote on an amendment that would restore legal access to abortion “before viability or when necessary to protect a patient’s health, as determined by the patient’s healthcare provider.” Florida currently has a six-week abortion ban, a law signed by Gov. Ron DeSantis in the wake of Dobbs.

The Harris bus tour began about a twenty-minute drive from Mar-a-Lago, the home of the former president who has declared responsibility for the fall of Roe under the Dobbs decision. The decision spawned multiple state abortion bans with severe repercussions upon a woman’s ability in ban states to receive critical or life-saving health care that may necessarily involve an abortion. At the September 10 presidential debate, Harris directly spoke to the post-Roe experiences of women suffering miscarriages and bleeding out in hospital parking lots because they couldn’t get treatment from doctors who were afraid of being prosecuted.

The other presidential candidate, former president Donald Trump, has bragged about overturning Roe v. Wade as a personal achievement of consummate importance. Public opinion polling shows, however, that the majority of Americans support legalized abortion. Moreover, the pro-reproductive rights position has won on abortion-related ballot measures following the Dobbs decision in conservative states like Ohio, Kansas, and Kentucky, and abortion measures are on the ballot this November in key states like Florida, Nevada, Colorado, and Arizona. Trump is now trying to downplay his involvement because the issue of abortion has become an albatross around the neck of the Trump campaign and the Republican Party itself. No wonder, then, in recent comments Trump has stated that abortion policy should be left to the states, and he has been publicly unwilling to endorse a nationwide abortion ban. At the debate, however, he repeatedly refused to answer whether he would veto legislation containing such a ban if it were presented to him as president, rejecting the question as an unlikely hypothetical while claiming he did the country “a great service” by helping overturn Roe.

In the wake of threats to in vitro fertilization (IVF) spurred by the Alabama Supreme Court decision that frozen embryos are children and the corresponding religious view held by some in the anti-abortion movement that a fertilized egg is a full-fledged person, Trump said both that he would mandate insurance companies cover IVF and the federal government would cover it for all Americans in need.

Attempting to persuade women who want their reproductive rights back, he suggested that Florida’s six-week abortion ban is “too short,” stating that he will be “voting that we need more than six weeks.” Later, however, his campaign walked this statement back, indicating that he “has not yet said how he will vote on the ballot initiative in Florida.” Trump attempted to rehabilitate his position on abortion further for his far right, evangelical base by spreading the disinformation that some states allow the legal execution of babies after birth. At the debate, he repeated this false statement, and one of the debate moderators fact-checked him on that. These are just a few examples of the ducking, bobbing, and weaving on abortion that Trump has been doing over the past few weeks.

But Trump’s attempts to obfuscate the abortion policy of his party and his future administration are laid bare by what is stated in the 2024 Republican Party platform and in the 2025 Presidential Transition Project (also known as Project 2025), a detailed blueprint for overhauling the executive branch, published by the Heritage Foundation, which involves at least 140 people who worked in the last Trump administration.

The word “abortion” only appears once in the 28-page Republican Party platform with the statement “[w]e will oppose Late Term Abortion, while supporting mothers and policies that advance Prenatal Care, access to Birth Control, and IVF.” But that statement must be understood in the context of the sentence that immediately precedes it: “We believe that the 14th Amendment to the Constitution of the United States guarantees that no person can be denied Life or Liberty without Due Process, and that the States are, therefore, free to pass Laws protecting those Rights.” By invoking the 14th Amendment to the Constitution in the context of abortion, the platform projects consistency with a religious belief that fertilized eggs, or so-called “unborn children” are full-fledged people deserving all of the rights and protections afforded by the U.S. Constitution. Neither abortion nor IVF, where some embryos may be discarded, is consistent with this “personhood” view. The limited and coded treatment of abortion in the platform is, however, consistent with Trump’s stated belief that the issue is harming the Republican Party and his candidacy with women.

But the Republican Party platform’s concise treatment of abortion should not be separated from Project 2025—a 922-page document replete with instances of the word abortion, along with detailed plans for how a Republican administration should promote “pro-life” policies and, in doing so, further curtail reproductive rights and access to reproductive healthcare.

Project 2025’s explicit anti-abortion positions and goals are summarized in the forward section of the document, which proclaims that “conservatives should gratefully celebrate the greatest pro-family win in a generation: overturning Roe v. Wade, a decision that for five decades made a mockery of our Constitution and facilitated the deaths of tens of millions of unborn children. But the Dobbs decision is just the beginning.”

A national abortion ban emerges as a prominent goal, as the document instructs that “[c]onservatives in the states and in Washington, including in the next conservative Administration, should push as hard as possible to protect the unborn in every jurisdiction in America. In particular, the next conservative President should work with Congress to enact the most robust protections for the unborn that Congress will support . . . .”

Some of the most noteworthy ideas and policies construed to achieve these outcomes presented in the rest of the document include:

A series of actions focused on preventing access to medication abortion nationwide. It is important to recognize that medication abortion accounted for 63% of all abortions in 2023—and that number does not account for pills that were mailed to people in states with an abortion ban, so the overall percentage is likely higher. It can be a particularly useful way to circumvent abortion bans. From the perspective of Project 2025, “[a]bortion pills pose the single greatest threat to unborn children in a post-Roe world.” Accordingly, Project 2025 recommends, among other things, that the FDA “reverse its approval of chemical abortion drugs,” and “stop promoting or approving mail-order abortions.” It also recommends that the DOJ “enforce the Comstock Act,” a law passed in 1873 that would, if read literally, make the mailing of any kind of abortifacient unlawful, effectively resulting in a nationwide ban on medication abortion.

Preventing both HHS and the CDC from treating or promoting abortion as health care. Consistent with this goal, and in furtherance of a “Life Agenda,” Project 2025 states that HHS should be known as the “Department of Life” through “explicitly rejecting the notion that abortion is health care.” Accordingly, Project 2025 recommends that the next Secretary of HHS eliminate the current HHS Reproductive Access Task Force and replace it with “a pro-life task force to ensure that all of the department’s divisions seek to use their authority to promote the life and health of women and their unborn children.” With respect to the CDC, Project 2025 recommends that it “should eliminate programs and projects that do not respect human life and conscious rights and that undermine family formation.” This would include the types of research it chooses to fund.

Preventing any kind of federal funding from supporting abortion care, including helping women travel out of state to receive an abortion. Project 2025 would also prohibit Planned Parenthood or any other abortion provider from receiving Medicaid funds. Two steps recommended in furtherance of this goal are having HHS “[i]ssue guidance reemphasizing that states are free to defund Planned Parenthood in their state Medicaid plans” and “[p]ropose rulemaking to interpret the Medicaid statute to disqualify providers of elective abortion from the Medicaid program.”

In stark contrast, the Democratic Party platform, written when President Biden was still the Democratic candidate for president, has its own section on “Reproductive Freedom” that embraces the idea that abortion is health care. It begins by acknowledging that since the fall of Roe, “more than 20 states have imposed extreme and dangerous abortion bans—many of which include no exception even for rape or incest—that put the health and lives of women in jeopardy, force women to travel hundreds of miles for care, and threaten to criminalize doctors for providing the health care that their patients need and that they are trained to provide.”

The platform looks to the range of actions taken during the Biden-Harris administration as a foundation for continuing efforts to protect reproductive rights and health care. Some of the most notable actions mentioned, which are opposite of the policies promoted by Project 2025, include enabling pharmacies to dispense medication abortion and defending FDA approval of medication abortion in court, expanding reproductive health care for service members and veterans, defending access to emergency abortion care, challenging threats by a Republican attorney general to prosecute those who assist women traveling out of state for abortion care, and assisting states in expanding access under Medicaid for people who travel from states where they are denied access to abortion care.

Going forward, the platform states that Democrats will, among other things, work to restore abortion rights through legislation (assuming a Congress with sufficient Democratic control), protect the right to access IVF, strengthen access to contraception, and continue to support access to medication abortion. The platform also indicates that Democrats will work to repeal the Hyde amendment, which “restricts federally funded abortions under major federal health care programs.”

The contrast between the parties’ platforms and policies is clear. Simply put, the Democratic Party platform explicitly states that “President Biden, Vice President Harris, and Democrats are committed to restoring the reproductive rights Trump ripped away.” As the presidential candidate who has proudly claimed responsibility for the fall of Roe, Trump’s rhetoric resembles the defensive moves of a boxer ducking, bobbing, and weaving to slip an opponent’s punches: he has tried to disavow Project 2025, tried to obfuscate Republican Party positions and plans, and backtracked on some of his positions in an attempt to portray his future administration as “great for women and their reproductive rights.”

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ellethespaceunicorn · 1 year ago

Text

Don't Take My Sunshine Away, Part III

Title: Don’t Take My Sunshine Away, Part III

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Reader (Sunshine)

Fandom: The Gray Man

Word Count: 3K

Series Summary: You lived your life on a schedule. Everything is planned out from sunrise to sunset. But what happens when you go out on a limb and out of your comfort zone? Will it have dire consequences?

Chapter Summary: Lloyd defends your honor and tells you a bedtime story.

Warnings: Murder Daddy™, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering (f receiving), clit spanking, a splash of somnophilia, unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mentions of murder, mention of stalking, Stockholm Syndrome

A/N: So, this part took a little longer, but we are right on schedule. Hope you enjoy it! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Spotify Playlist is here.

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

You spend most of the day with Sir in his office. Men flood in now and then to speak with him. No doubt surprised by your presence but smart enough not to mention it. For the most part anyway.

Then there’s the poor bastard that couldn’t stop staring at you in the evening briefing. He had the nerve to turn his entire head in your direction while you lounged on one of the couches. You were engrossed in American Psycho, caught in the intricate web that Bret Easton Ellis wove.

You had just made it to the point where Patrick is recalling how he corrected Stash using the word cappuccino instead of carpaccio when you feel the weight of eyes on you. You assume Lloyd is the perpetrator, but you’re surprised when you glance at him and see that he’s looking elsewhere.

Your eyes skim over the men in the room and notice a set of bright green eyes raking over your body. You quickly rise from your position on your belly, dropping your book in the process. The clatter alerted everyone in the room to look at you.

“Sunshine? Can’t you see I’m in the middle of—” Lloyd stops in his tracks when you stand and walk behind him to block the man’s view from you. You whisper in his ear so that the other men can’t hear and Lloyd nods, motioning for you to sit in the desk chair.

As you move around the desk, Lloyd puts his hands in his pockets and sighs.

“I guess I wasn’t clear about this, but this lovely little gem behind me is Sunshine. Sunshine belongs to me. I didn’t bring her here to be the object of your lecherous eyes,” He turns to where you sit and winks at you before addressing the men again, “Now, Price, you’ve only been with me for, what? Few weeks or so?” He sits on the edge of the desk, one hand on his knee.

“Yes, Sir.” The green-eyed deviant has the presence of mind to answer formally rather than just nodding.

“Right. So, you’ve been around long enough to know I’m not exactly the sharing type. When something is mine, it’s mine alone. But you decided to stare at my girl like she was here for your entertainment or something—”

“Sir, I swear I wasn’t trying to—”

A barrage of bullets cuts through the apology that Price tries to give, too little too late. Sir stands over his corpse and spits at him, “I was talking, you piece of shit!”

He gives the gun back to the man he took it from, coming back to sit on the edge of the desk. You can see the blood spatter on his face, neck, and shirt.

“Does anyone else wanna make me kill them?” He looks around at all the faces in the room, “Good. Dismissed. Get the fuck out. And take this asshole with you.”

After the men leave, dragging the dead man behind them, you rise from the desk chair and walk around to stand in front of Sir. You couldn’t stop yourself from wiping your thumb across the blood drop on his cheekbone. As it smears into his skin instead of wiping it away, you look into Sir’s eyes.

His hand comes up to your wrist and he tilts his head down a fraction, that asshole smirk painting itself on his face. “Just a little blood, Sunshine. Nothing to be afraid of.”

“I’m not afraid of it, I just...you...killed that man because he looked at me. I mean, yeah, I felt weird, but I...didn’t think you’d kill him.” You feel his thumb on your pulse point, lightly pressing into your skin.

“If you didn’t want me to kill him, why’s your heart beating so fast?” Sir narrows his eyes at you, and you can feel the weight of his stare. “Because it looks like my little Sunshine liked that I defended her honor.”

He lets go of your wrist and lightly taps your chin. Letting his hand glide down your body until it escapes into the slit of your dress, he cups your sex and it radiates heat into his palm. His middle finger presses upward and between your folds to find your warm nectar leaking from your snatch. He fully coats his finger, pulling his hand out from under your dress. “Open your mouth, Sunshine.”

You do as you’re told, sticking your tongue out for good measure. Sir lays his finger on your tongue, and you close your lips over it. You treat his thick digit like a popsicle, cleaning it off with your tongue while sucking it. You like the taste of yourself on Sir’s finger, sweet and tangy notes dance across your tastebuds.

A sharp sucking noise fills the room as Sir pulls his finger out of your mouth, replacing it with his lips to kiss you deeply. His tongue chases yours in a scramble to taste your sweet pussy juice. His hands find your hips and pull you close, and you can feel how excited he is. His weighty erection pushes against his chinos.

Sir breaks the kiss first, resting his forehead against yours. “Fuck, you taste fucking phenomenal. Bend over the desk. And put that leg up.” He moves around you and presses down on your upper back while helping to lift your knee to rest on the desk. “Now you stay right fucking there, Sunshine.”

Sir is on you in seconds, the thud of his knees hitting the floor echoes in the room. Large paws slap each asscheek before he grips them tight and lets them go again, loving the crescent-shaped dents left in your skin by his fingernails.

Gently spreading your cunt open with his thumbs, he leans in and swirls his tongue around your slick entrance. You bite your lip so only the tiniest moan escapes. Sir stops and addresses you.

“Don’t you bite back that fucking moan, darling. I want to hear you. And if I’m being honest, I kinda want my men to hear you too. I want them to know who you belong to. Am I understood, Sunshine?” Sir lands a slap on your ass when you don’t reply with words, the ‘mhm’ you murmured is not appreciated.

“Yes, Sir!” You yelp, the sting of the slap still reverberating across your skin.

“That’s my girl.” Sir returns his tongue to your opening, sliding a hand under you to fondle your clit.

Pinching your nub quickly, he is rewarded with your guttural noises. Stiffening his tongue, he inserts it straight into your pussy and the unexpected movement has you pushing back into him.

“Yes, Sir, please! Just like that!” You fuck yourself on his tongue, working your hips up and down doing all the work.

Sir removes his tongue from your cunt, a mix of saliva and your cum connects his tongue to your hole. Two fingers soon replace his tongue, fucking into you at break-neck speed, massaging your inner sweet spot at the same time. With one hand still focusing on your clit, you were overwhelmed soon enough by how persistent he was.

“Sir, please, may I cum?” You tried your best to maintain but you were hanging on by a thread.

Shoving a third digit inside you, Sir picks up where he left off, driving into your core like a fucking piston. You feel your walls starting to tighten and Sir must feel it too because he finally relents, and your wish is granted.

“Fucking cum for me, Sunshine.” As he pulls his fingers from your squelching snatch, your legs buckle in an orgasm that pulls from you a series of wails that you suspect fill the halls of the house.

Landing a few slaps to your clit, Sir stands and steadies your hips before you slide off the desk. Wrapping an arm around your front, he pulls you against his tall frame, leaving kisses along your neck. He sways gently to a song you can’t hear, and it feels good to be in his arms. You let your body be turned sideways and be picked up so gently, with more care than he’s shown you before.

“I think you have a little more in you.” Sir smiles down at you, chuckling at your poor attempt at smiling. You nod when the muscles in your face betray you. “Let’s get you into bed so I can really fuck you stupid.” Your head rests on his shoulder as you look up into bright blue eyes.

You don’t remember when your eyes slid shut, but you are startled awake when you feel the blunt head of Sir’s dick break through your swollen womanhood. Your first instinct is to fight him off, but two strong hands grab your wrists and pin them above your head. Holding them there with one hand, the other finds your cheek.

“Shh, shh, it’s just me. You nodded off there for a second. Figured some dick would wake you up, and I was right.” He pulls his hips back and slams into your heat again, groaning at the way your face contorts in pleasurable pain, a high-pitched moan leaving your lips. “Don’t hold back, Sunshine, let ‘em hear you.”

Moving his hands away from your face and wrists, he wraps one hand around your neck while the other goes to clutch at the sheets next to your head. As he fucks into you, the wet, slapping sounds of flesh bounce off the walls and hit your ears. His grunts in your ear are so close, you can feel his hot breath puffing against your skin as his hand tightens on the sides of your throat.

At this angle, you can feel as Sir stimulates your clit and your g-spot. Your body is jutting up the bed with each thrust. His chokehold on you is the only thing keeping you from slamming into the headboard. Your legs wrap around his waist, your thighs shaking as another orgasm starts to chart its way through your body.

“Sir, fuck...please!” Your cry out, staring up into the ceiling as fat tears fall from your eyes.

Lloyd’s head picks up at that moment as he hears your babbling sobs. “Oh, yes Sunshine. Cry for me, just like that.” He licks away your tears and leans up on his knees to grab your hips, plowing into you so that his dick slams into your cervix.

“Sir, may I cum, please?” You can feel the precise moment that the tightly wound band of control snaps inside you and there is no turning back.

“Cum with me, Sunshine!” Sir’s hips stutter as he finishes, and your hands clutch onto his as they rest at your sides.

“Fuuuuuuuck, yes Sir!” Your twat milks his dick dry, every spurt of cum so warm and heavy that you feel the weight of each stream as it paints your walls.

Your combined moans harmonize in the room as you enjoyed each other’s bodies. As you both come down, Sir pitches forward and catches himself with a hand on the bed before he falls completely on top of you.

Breathing erratically, you pull him down and run your hands through his sweaty mop. “Is this ok, Sir?” You freeze, not knowing if this is crossing the line.

He can only nod, still trying to catch his breath. You can’t help but smile a little to yourself because you followed your instincts and this time you chose right. You try not to think about the rest of your situation, but it’s only right that you do.

Sir’s softening cock slips free from your cunt and you both wince at the loss. Sir collapses to the side of you and you turn to face him. Following his warmth as he turns to his side, he opens his arm to welcome you into his embrace and you snuggle up to him.

“Fuck me, Sunshine! Jesus Christ, you fucking drained my balls on that one.” He sighs and pulls you closer. You yawn loudly breaking the silence between you and Sir chuckles at your cute little face before he speaks up again. “How about a bedtime story?”

You know you’ll be asleep any second, but the curiosity in you to hear what macabre thing he’ll come up with is too great. “You wanna tell me a bedtime story, Sir?”

“Yeah, it’s probably not a great story, but it’s sure to make those gears turn in that fucked-out little brain of yours.” He pokes a finger to your forehead and your eyes cross a bit to follow it. You move a hand to grab his finger, but he moves it too quickly.

“I wanna hear the story, Sir.” You sniffle a bit, blinking your eyes to try and stay awake.

“I’ll tell it, but no questions and no interruptions, you understand?” Sir holds your chin between his pointer finger and thumb.

“Yes, Sir.” Still cock-drunk, you smile lazily and nod up at him.

“That’s my good girl,” He leans in for a kiss and you oblige him, wrapping a leg around him. “Now, our story begins with a lonely girl. She had no friends. Unless you count the ones at the place where she got her morning coffee. She knew all the baristas, and they knew her order well, but they didn’t know much about the girl. Anyway, the girl would go to work every day where she spent her whole shift with her head shoved in a book. And no one really talked to her, except one man that she had banned from her work area. Poor guy.”

Your body stiffens as you recognize a part of the story.

“But even with a quiet life, the girl starts to think that there must be more to life than this monotony. She starts to feel lonelier than before. And even though she plays with her pretty little pussy every single night before she goes to sleep, she craves more. She wants the real thing. So, she decides to go to Tinder. She’s not above a quick fuck, but she’d rather have something real. She starts talking with a dude and they hit it off. It was intensely sexual at first, but then it got more real. They would talk about their hobbies and their favorite movies and all types of shit. She liked him. Soon, she makes up her mind and she’s gonna meet him for a dinner date.”

Your heart hammers in your chest and the way he pauses dramatically lets you know that he knows you see where he is going.

“She gets to the diner, and she doesn’t hear from him at all as she downs cup after cup of coffee. She gets stood up; can you believe it? Well, I can believe it. This guy wasn’t right for her. He wouldn’t know how to please her, he wouldn’t know her drink order, and he couldn’t possibly be what she was looking for. No, no. The man who shared her reading interests in the library who she referred to as a creep, that guy was right for her. Mentioning how much he also liked Bret Easton Ellis over Chuck Palahniuk was funny at that moment, but I guess as she thought about it, she was a little worried. And that was just too damn bad.”

Your eyes burn with unshed tears.

“Mr. Tinder, or whatever his name was, was super surprised in the parking lot that night. He never saw that knife coming. But that was one less player on the board, which made the odds a little better for a knight in shining armor to come and save her from some asswipe in an alleyway who should’ve kept his hands to himself. Right, Sunshine?”

Your breath was coming in shallow gasps, and you blinked away tears that fell without your permission. You looked up into bright blue eyes and he continued to speak.

“For so long, I watched you. I watched and I waited for you to come to your senses. But you picked the first guy to give you attention on the internet, instead of the man who thought you were the most beautiful thing he ever set his eyes on. I had to have you, Sunshine. His grubby little mitts wouldn’t have known what to do with you. I bet he wouldn’t have given a fuck if you even came during sex at all. And all you ever need to do is tell me you need it, and I will drop everything and make sure you cum until you’re exhausted. As I said before, Sunshine, you’re the one. I knew I needed you, and I will do anything to show you how much you need me.”

“I do need you, Sir. You're all I have.” The words leave your mouth so quickly; you start to accept them yourself.

“You’re all I have, Sunshine. You are everything.” His hand on your face is so warm, comforting even.

“You won’t let anything happen to me.” It was a statement, one that you wished to be true.

“Never.” You believed him. The way he killed a man for you and the way he washed your body so gently in the bathtub. Of course, you were starting to believe every safe and reassuring word he said.

To your credit, you still have that tiny sliver of reality in your thoughts that stops you from diving into the deep end. In that tiny space inside your brain, you hold the idea that he could kill you at any time. The collar you wear keeps you safe, but it was also contingent on your good behavior.

“Thank you, Sir. May I sleep now?” You yawn at the perfect time to sell your tiredness.

“Sleep, Sunshine. You’ve had quite a day.” He places a kiss on the top of your head, a yawn pulling at his face.

Curling into Sir’s embrace, the welcoming warmth is enough to have you feeling safe and guarded in seconds, your soft snores soon filling the room.

Sir watches you sleep for a while, letting a finger glide across your smooth features before he shuts his eyes to join you.

Part IV (coming soon)

A/N: Who doesn’t love a good bedtime story? See you next time. 😉

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#chris evans #chris evans characters #lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #dark! fic #dark fic #dark!fic #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #dont take my sunshine away

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denimbex1986 · 1 year ago

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'If you’ve ever read an interview with the Irish actor Cillian Murphy, you might think him shy, irritable, or even neurotic. Journalists love to write about how closed-off he is, that if you ask him anything too personal he’ll shut down and give one-line answers. This makes their job very hard, they say. But what those interviews don’t tell you, is that if you let Murphy talk about a subject that he actually wants to talk about – such as his epic new film about the father of the atomic bomb J. Robert Oppenheimer – he’ll go on for ages. And he’ll be very open and interesting while he’s doing it. He might even make a joke.

He does this when NME meets him at a posh hotel in Soho. We’ve just walked into the room. Murphy is sat down, wearing a black v-neck jumper over a white t-shirt, black trousers and a pair of very pointy Chelsea boots. He seems relaxed, and greets us with a cheery “hello!”. Then he recognises the thick paperback tucked under our arm as a copy of American Prometheus, the Pulitzer Prize-winning biography from which Oppenheimer is adapted. We’d intended to read a quote from the book later but Murphy cuts in on our explanation. “No, you brought it in here to be pretentious,” he grins. “Would you like me to sign it for you?”

There are people who would sell their grandmas for a mere glimpse of Murphy, let alone an autograph. He’s been dogged by screaming fans since the early days of his career – when he broke out as often-shirtless apocalypse survivor Jim in Danny Boyle’s 2002 horror hit 28 Days Later. Brummie gangster series Peaky Blinders made him a global star, but his most famous film roles are notable because they’ve often come from collaborations with the same director. Christopher Nolan’s sci-fi blockbuster Inception, war thriller Dunkirk and his Batman trilogy all featured Murphy as the supporting curio – a side character that pops up every so often to steal your attention from the main protagonist. But in Oppenheimer, the duo’s latest creative partnership, he finally is the main character.

And he’s a good one too. Oppenheimer was an American scientist who made vital discoveries in quantum physics during the 1920s and ‘30s, going on to oversee the creation of the atomic bomb for the US Government – two of which were dropped on Japanese cities Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945, killing an estimated 220,000 people. Oppenheimer spent the rest of his life campaigning for disarmament, appalled at the weapon (his preferred term was “gadget”) he had helped to give the world. He also drank heavily and had a reputation as a womaniser, despite being quiet and sometimes socially awkward. Murphy calls him “contradictory” and “complex”, which is like saying Suella Braverman doesn’t like immigrants. “I do think that he believed it would be the weapon to end all wars,” Murphy continues, attempting to explain how a left-leaning humanitarian could spend two years perfecting the ultimate killing machine. “He thought that [having the bomb] would motivate countries to form a sort of nuclear world governance.” Murphy pauses. “He was naive.”

Was that naivety a choice though? Oppenheimer had an explosive ego, once attempting to poison a university professor who chastised him when he was a student. Could his desire to achieve such as historic breakthrough have led him to ignore his own better judgement?

“That’s an interesting take,” says Murphy. He runs his hands through his hair, which is styled into wavy curtains. He does this a lot when thinking a question over. “Chris used this amazing phrase. We were talking about Oppenheimer’s arc and he said, ‘You know, he’s dancing between the raindrops morally.’ That unlocked something in my mind when I was preparing.”

To play the role of Oppenheimer, Murphy went very deep. He read the Bhagavad Gita – a 700-page Hindu religious text that the physicist famously quoted from (“Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.”) Then he started “skipping meals” in an effort to slim down to Oppenheimer’s rail-thin frame. During the actual shoot, Murphy smoked so many fake cigarettes that he worried it harmed his health. “They can’t be good for you,” he told The Guardian. Oppenheimer himself died of throat cancer in 1967.

On top of the physical strain, Murphy delved into some pretty dark emotional places. He had six months to research before filming began in February 2022, and during the 67-day production he often worked 18-hour days. War, genocide and the nuclear holocaust are unpleasant to think about at the best of times, never mind your every waking moment. It must have been brutal.

“You always have to take a holiday after a job,” he concedes, as though being a Hollywood actor is no different from plumbing toilets. “It’s not because… as some journalists like to think, you’re a method actor or whatever. It’s because you give so much time to the job and then suddenly you stop. You have all this displaced energy, you know, so you kind of don’t know what to do with yourself… But I’m a very easygoing sort of person. It doesn’t weigh me down.”

We suspect Murphy isn’t being entirely truthful here. Such is the intensity of his performance – all simmering discontent and wide-eyed panic attacks – that it’s difficult to believe he just shook the weight of global armageddon off each night before climbing into bed. Emily Blunt, who plays Oppenheimer’s wife Kitty in the film, has said Murphy regularly skipped cast dinners because of the “monumental” pressure he felt. “Of course he didn’t want to [eat] with us,” she told People magazine. Matt Damon, brilliant as mustachioed military boss General Groves, agreed: “His brain was just too full.” When we push Murphy on the subject, he reveals a little more. “I didn’t go out much. I didn’t socialise much, mainly because of the amount of work I had to do… I became so immersed in the role.”

To make the experience yet more profound, cameras rolled only “a couple of days” before Russia invaded Ukraine. The West united to impose stringent economic sanctions on Vladimir Putin and his people. The value of the Ruble plummeted, Russian billionaires were booted out of London and Moscow became a cultural ghost town with the likes of Green Day and Iron Maiden cancelling gigs. Putin’s response? To start lining up tactical nukes along his borders. Armageddon seemed closer than at any moment since the Cold War. Murphy (and his castmates) felt the heat. “It was everywhere, and we were fully aware of that,” he says. “The threat [of nuclear war] has escalated and receded over the years since 1945… and now it’s back. It’s always there, this Sword Of Damocles that is hanging over us.”

Murphy, 47, knows what it’s like to exist against the backdrop of conflict. He grew up during the Troubles in late 1970s and ‘80s Cork, Ireland, where reports of sectarian violence in the north often dominated the news. His mum was a French teacher and his dad worked for the civil service. As a teenager, he was obsessed with music. He read NME and loved Frank Zappa and The Beatles. To illustrate his fandom, he tells us about a trip he took to Liverpool, later in life, to see the legendary Cavern Club, where the mop tops first cut their teeth on stage. “I walked down to [the street where the Cavern Club is supposed to be],” he says, “and it wasn’t there. It was somewhere over there!” He gesticulates with his hands. “It’s not the real Cavern. It’s just a mock-up!”

Inspired by John, Paul, George and Ringo, Murphy and his brother formed a band: The Sons of Mr Green Genes, named after a Zappa tune from the avant garde groover’s 1969 album ‘Hot Rats’. The songs were similarly experimental, filled with “wacky lyrics and endless guitar solos”. Eventually, an indie label based in London, Acid Jazz, put a five-album deal on the table. He and his brother turned it down, citing reasons of artistic independence, but for a while rock and roll appeared more inviting than the movies.

Murphy is often disparaging about his songs to journalists, but they must have been doing something right. He’s also self-deprecating when we bring up the underrated 2002 short film Watchmen, which he co-wrote with BAFTA-winner Paloma Baeza – his only attempt at a screenplay. “I just never thought that I was good enough really,” he says. “It’s why I haven’t, you know, pursued the music either… I like to do one thing quite well.” He adds that it’s unlikely this will change in the future.

Murphy will be far too busy to write songs or screenplays for a while anyway. The first reviews for Oppenheimer are out, and some critics have him earmarked for an Oscar. He’ll charm his way through awards season no doubt, just as he does at the Paris premiere the night before our interview. Done up in a black suit with mustard shirt and matching oversized tie, he looks a bit like the handsome English teacher your best mate had a crush on. Walking the red carpet, he is happy to answer questions, speaking at length about Nolan’s genius and the “amazing” reaction to Oppenheimer so far. You can tell he’s enjoying himself.

Murphy’s not on duty tonight though, with London’s premiere scheduled for the day after our chat. Then he’ll be waiting to get on with his next gig, the dark indie drama Small Things Like These, adapted from Claire Keegan’s bestselling 2021 title, in which he’ll take the lead role. Following his breakthrough blockbuster with a low-key Irish drama is typically understated of Murphy, so not unexpected. More box office projects loom on the horizon – a standalone Peaky Blinders movie and the long-awaited horror threequel 28 Months Later – but he says he has “no new information” on either.

It’s difficult to say what Oppenheimer means for Murphy. He is a household name in the UK and Ireland, but less so in the States, where some still see him as a ‘TV actor’. In a recent interview to promote the film, Robert Downey Jr. talked of Murphy’s life “changing” after Oppenheimer, as if he’s a fresh actor on the scene. In a sense, Downey Jr. is right. This is Murphy’s first lead role in a sure-fire smash. And the parts he gets offered now may be a bit starrier. But don’t expect to see him in spandex on a Marvel soundstage anytime soon.

“I like unknowable, ambiguous, kind of enigmatic [characters],” he says. “To me that’s human life: the knotty, weird grey areas… A good man’s life is wholly uninteresting.”'

#Cillian Murphy #Oppenheimer #Christopher Nolan #Robert Downey Jr #Peaky Blinders #Small Things Like These #Claire Keegan #American Prometheus #28 Days Later #Danny Boyle #Inception #Dunkirk #Batman Trilogy #Bhagavad Gita #Emily Blunt #Kitty #Matt Damon #The Sons of Mr. Green Genes #Watchmen

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paigeandsagesstuff · 2 years ago

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I’ll Come Back For You

Song: “Wait” by M38

POV: It’s 1945 and you’re an American living in Poland. You help the allies whenever you can, and you met Sergeant Austin Butler.

Warning: p in v, unprotected sex (triple wrap that shit y’all), fingering, clit rubbing

♡ Thank you for your support! ♡

Inspired by the scene between Emma and Norman in Fury.

Master List Babes💋

The soldiers sat around your table laughing as you and your cousin, C/N, prepared a meal for them.

You looked over your shoulder to meet Austin's eyes and his blue eyes that were boring holes into your head and body. You felt something stir within you, and you looked back into the stew you were making as you felt yourself blush.

It was two hours ago when the group of soldiers and their Sergeant Austin Butler entered your flat. It was 1945, and you were an American that moved to Poland to live with your father's side before the war. Since Germany invaded years ago, you helped the allies by giving them food and blankets. So you're frequently with soldiers after word has gone around of your kind heart.

You met the handsome Sergeant Butler four years ago, and he made you feel things you never did. Though, he often got on your nerves with his wolffish grin and arrogant voice.

C/N walked away to place bowls on the table as you were putting spices in the pot.

"Y/N," a voice said behind you, and you felt his arm on his chest against your back.

"Sergeant Butler," you tried to hide a smile and push the butterflies away.

His arm reached to grab a bowl, "Just grabbing a bowl."

Austin walked away, and you felt yourself about to breathe. You turned off the burner and grabbed a towel to bring the pot to the table, and placed it in the center.

"I hope everyone likes stew." You smiled and sat with Austin, who placed his arm behind your back. C/N handed a basket of bread to you, and you took one, set it next to your bowl, and met Austin's stare as you gave him the basket.

"What?" You sheepishly said, and thankfully her cousin and the soldiers were busy talking to notice you and Austin. He smirked with a toothpick between his lips and pulled it out to grab the bread.

"Nothing, doll," he winked.

You rolled your eyes and started to eat your meal. The dinner was full of laughter and funny stories before the war. Of course, there were stolen glances by you and Austin, well mostly him, as you felt his eyes on you.

The boys insisted they clean up after dinner, and Austin cleaned the last bowl. Dan and Luke, the goofballs of the group, came back to eye you up.

"What?" You laughed, face becoming red from their attention.

"You're just a beautiful dame, Y/N," Dan smiled, and Luke elbowed him. "What? She's beautiful to me!"

"Speak for yourself because I have my gorgeous polish woman," he grinned and hooked his arm around C/N's neck to kiss her cheek.

"I'm American, though," you meekly said but were overshadowed by C/N giggling.

Luke beamed at C/N, who was sheepishly looking at her lap. You smiled at the sight of the couple as you felt a hand on your shoulder, and it was Derek, Austin's second command, "Y/N, we could share a bed if you want?"

You rolled your eyes at him and shook off his hand. The men watched, and some told Derek to knock it off, and he said, "Well, I need someone to warm my bed."

The men stopped talking when heavy boots walked over to you, and a firm grip was on your wrist. "Come with me.”

You looked up to see it was Austin with fire in his eyes, and you frowned at him. "Go where?"

"It wasn't a question," he lowered his face to meet your eyes, "but an order."

You quickly got up and let him take you to your room, where he nudged you in and turned to his men, mostly to Derek.

"Y/N will be keeping me warm tonight," he said and slammed the door to lock it after. You stood there in shock and backed away when he turned to you, "don't be afraid."

"Afraid? I'm horrified how you dragged me in here and proclaimed that I'll be keeping you warm!" You said while walking up to Austin, raising your hand to slap him, which he caught by your wrist.

"Careful doll, as I might not be so nice."

You scoffed and yanked your hand away, "You are a jackass, Sergeant Butler."

"Well, you're no walk in the park either, Miss L/N," he said in your ear and walked past you to sit on your bed. You gasped at him and twirled in your floral F/C wrap-around dress to stare at him.

You point at him, feeling your face become hot, "You're the one who walks around acting like you own the place, and now me!"

He begins to unbutton his beaten-up jacket while kicking off his boots. "Maybe it's a dream of mine for us to belong to one another, doll."

You crossed your arms with a pout, even though you felt butterflies in your stomach. Austin gently holds onto your waist to bring you closer so that you're standing in front of him.

"Sergeant, I'm not-."

He cuts you off, "I only want to lay next to me and maybe hold me."

You placed your hands on your hips as Austin ran his fingers through his golden hair, "Can you deny a soldier's last request? I might die tomorrow."

"Fine, but no funny business." You said and sat on the bed to take off your heels.

"As you wish doll."

You shivered when he said that in your ear, and you pulled your hair back to unzip your dress from the back, but callous fingers helped you and allowed them. Goosebumps formed on you as you got up to shimmy your way out of your dress and placed it on a chair. Austin couldn't keep his eyes off of you in your slipped dress. You turned off a lamp to lay next to him, but you were nervous to move.

"I'll help you," he chuckled and brought you closer to his side. He placed his arm underneath your head and took your arm to lay it across his chest, and he looked at you with a smile.

"See," he said, and you smiled at him, "snug as a bug."

You fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

———♡———

You woke up sometime later as it was quiet outside of your door and window. But you heard Austin's breathing and stared at him, adjusting to the dark, and you watched puffs of air leave his parted lips. You bite yours, and your heart tightens as you pecked his neck. You brought yourself closer and snuggled deeper into the nook between his should and head. Deeply inhaling his earthly scent, you kissed his jaw and sighed at the feeling of his arms around you.

"What are you doing, Y/N?"

You froze and tried to pull away, but he held you close. Austin then turned to his side to stare down at you, which you expected to be a smirk, but it was a gentle smile. Luckily it was too dark for him to see your face glowing red.

"I just-I-." You stammered.

"What is it, Miss Y/N?"

You realized that you hate when he calls you by your last name, as you're overjoyed when he calls you cute names or Y/N. You hate watching him leave every time and how he's arrogant but almost always right. You don't hate him, but quit the opposite.

"I just want us to belong to one another," you breathed out with a grin.

He blinked at you before cupping your face with his free hand and consuming your lips as you held onto his shoulder. Austin moved on top of you and pulled at your dress, you helped hastily, and he moved down to kiss your breast softly and groped the other one.

"Sergeant," you moaned but covered your mouth in embarrassment. He roughly grabbed your hand away and gingerly left kisses from your stomach to your throbbing core. Austin stood to slide off your stockings, then removed his clothes to throw behind him. You made eye contact, and he crawled on top of you with his hand on your thigh to make circles and then go toward your bud. You moaned into his needy kiss but almost cried out his name when you felt a finger slide into you.

"I need to stretch you out, baby."

You held onto his arm as he thrust his finger in slowly but added speed and another digit while rubbing your bud.

"Austin, I think I'm-." You gasped when you felt him leave your entrance and stared at him with a pout.

He smirked while kissing your jaw, "I want your first orgasm on my cock."

You blushed and nodded at him when he lifted his shaft to enter you as your face scrunched up from being stretched, and he kissed away the uncomfortable feelings. He bottomed out but waited for you to adjust, and you nodded at him to move, which he did slowly again and again. Those thrusts became long and hard as you scratched at his back and wrapped your legs around his waist, and he went deeper.

"Oh god!" You loudly cried out when he hit a specific spot. He gripped the pillow next to your head with your H/C sprawled around you as his other hand rubbed your clit. You kissed one another and heatedly battled with your tongues.

"Austin," you whimpered into his ear, which drove him crazy. "I think I'm about to cum."

"Me too, doll."

His thrusts became sloppy as his thumb circled your bud. Your back arched by itself and into his heated body as Austin bit your lip to pull it away. Your first orgasm lasted a while after he filled you up.

"Fuck Y/N!" Austin moaned onto your swollen lips as you came down from your high.

Austin leaned onto you, trying not to crush you as he caught his breath. You kissed his neck and then shoulder. He placed his head in the crook of yours.

"I love you, Sergeant Butler."

Austin hovered over you with a smile, "I love you, too, Y/N."

He pulled the blanket over you two and wrapped his arms around you, caging you in as you both drifted to sleep.

———♡———

You two woke up to the pounding on the door before Derek barged in, making Austin shield your body from him.

"What, Derek?" Austin spat, and Derek blinked at you two.

"Sorry, sir and ma'am," he stumbled, "but we have to leave now! The commander wants us to head north."

"Shit!" Austin said as Derek closed the door, as you watched Austin rushing to find his clothes. You shook your head in disbelief and quickly crawled over to him by the end of the bed.

"No!" You hugged him from behind, allowing the sheet to fall. He sighed while bowing his head as he held your hands to peel them off. You met his gaze as your eyes began to fill with tears, and you shook your head at him while holding onto your wrists, "Please, Austin, don't-."

"I'll come back for you, I'll always will," he said and cupped your face to kiss you, "you were my reason to stay strong, doll, so still be it."

You grabbed his hands and nodded, "Okay."

He roughly grabbed your face with his eyebrows furrowed as he started to choke up, "Promise me that you'll be strong, please, baby. You keep me together."

"I promise," you sobbed, and he pulled you in for a hug. You two kissed every part of each other's faces until Derek called out Austin's name.

"Hold on, god dammit!" He said and looked at you again with matching teary eyes. His hands touched your flushed cheeks for a longing kiss, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him close.

"Sergeant!"

"Dammit." He mumbled again but stole another peck, "When I come back, I'm bringing you to America, and we can live wherever you want. In the city, by the shore, or on a farm! Wherever as long as I'm with you."

Austin lifted your arms away from his body but left his jacket on you, which you held close. He backed away with your arms moving away from each other slowly, and Austin stood in the doorway and said, "I love you."

"I love you too."

He left as the men followed him while glancing at you with pitied stares.

Be strong. I will.

———♡———

That was two months ago, and the war is over. You still wear Austin's jacket as you helped the allies, showing them you belong to the man, your sergeant. But you haven't heard from him, even though your C/N heard from Luke, and it seemed okay.

But where is he?

You take out what remains from your luggage as you pack into your new flat. C/N told Luke about how you two had to move because the enemy was getting suspicious of you, so you thought that Austin knew, but now you're unsure.

You hear two voices coming up the stairs, and one said, "Do you know a Y/N L/N, sir?"

You dropped a pile of papers and ran to the door to swing it open. You stood in the doorway as someone in the greenback was facing you.

"Sergeant Butler?"

The man turned, and you covered your mouth.

"Evening, doll," Austin smirked.

You ran towards him, and he held you tightly, and you said, "You came back to me."

You pulled away to push some hair away from his face and touched his dog tags and his chest. You met his gaze with a huge grin.

Austin pulled you into another hug, "I always will, Y/N. I'll always come back for you."

You sniffled into his shirt, "Can C/N come with us to America?"

He smiled at you, "I'm sure Luke has that covered."

You laughed as you two planned to live in the city or by the beach.

Tag

@purejasmine

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