#dunkirk cillian murphy

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

PLEASE YOUR HUSBAND

KINKTOBER DAY 29 - FACIAL WITH SHIVERING SOLIDER

Pairing.| Shivering Solider x fem!reader

Summary.| Your husband returns home distant, distraught and troubled. He questions your loyalty to him.

Warnings.| Dubcon, shellshock, head m!receiving, fingering, groping, humping, accusing.

Word count.| 2k

What was meant to feel like a blessing, being reunited with your husband, your family back at whole again, celebrating the succession of the war, had instead felt like cautiously walking through a landmine field. 

As the train arrived and the carriages emptied of soulless men in uniform, the perturbation left your mind as you recognised your husband at the docks, only to boomerang back to you. Most of the men had this same expression locked on, broken. Your dearest husband was included. Your feelings and emotions were quickly followed by neglect as your husband acknowledged his brother, Noah first. He primarily stared at you as if you were an unwanted stranger. When he mumbled your name, the tears flooding your eyelids split out down your cheeks. You cried out his name and latched onto him, his frame was stiff as you felt his chest rise and fall with shallow breathing. 

Your husband looked down to your toddler Harry who was holding onto your calf, almost completely hidden behind you. The little bubba he cradled was gone. Harry shared his eyes and your hair. Your husband knelt down to Harry and breathed slowly as he rubbed his cheek, his eyes twitched as he looked back up to his younger brother. 

The journey home was silent, your husband’s eyes wandering across the town he called home, yet none of it felt familiar anymore. Noah spoke to ease the awkwardness, however your husband would only give muttered blunt responses. 

Noah was a farmer, he was exempted from being drafted. But still suffered the consequences of the war. It was unknown if your husband was envious of him, being blinded to the scenes on the fields he walked which tormented his mind. 

As your husband got out of the car, staring blankly at your cottage, Noah looked back at you. 

“If you need anything, just call, yeah?” He asked, a hopeful smile on his lips. Your tears glistered your eyes as you quickly nodded. “Just give him a bit of time to adjust” Noah sighed. Noah’s arm reached back onto your shoulder and his look was filled with guilt and pity. When you looked out to your husband, he was staring at you two with a stern expression. 

That night, you cooked him dinner but he sat on the porch the whole night as he kept a cigarette in between his lips constantly. You sat anxiously in the lounge room, watching him through the window until you drifted off into an uneasy slumber. 

Noah’s words were empty of hope as the days rolled over into weeks. Harry was having a tantrum and you were failing to calm him down. Your lips trembled as you bounced him on your arm as you walked around in circles in his room. Your husband was asleep for once and this was the last thing that you needed. The way your heart was sucked in between your throat was stressful as you heard your husband’s heavy footsteps emerging. 

Your husband called out your name as you heard him creak on the floorboards. You whimpered out, begging your child to shush. “Can’t you fucking do anything!” Your husband bellowed, appearing in the doorway. 

His features were beet red, eyes strained as his hands formed into balls. Immediately, you spat out your sincere, raw apologies as you desperately tried to calm Harry. Your husband grunted out and closed in on you. 

“Give me him” he demanded with a huff. 

“It’s okay sweetheart I just-”

“Give him to me!” He roared, almost snatching his Harry off of you. As you stood there in shock, you watched your husband wrap his arms around your son and coo by his ear. His dark eyes snapped onto your tearing eyes. “Leave and go make yourself useful elsewhere” he ordered, spinning his heel away from you. 

Doing as you were told, you hurried out of the room and hid your eyes behind your sleeves. You tried to distract your storming thoughts by doing chores around the house, but Harry’s cries were stabbing at you. Eventually, your child’s tantrum mellowed out and the silence was just as agonzing. 

His footsteps overwrought your shivering body as he approached you. “Men are meant to return home to their obedient wives” your husband stated harshly as he leant against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“I am obedient” you sniffled. 

“You can’t even get a child to sleep, what type of mother does that make you?” He exasperated as he drew closer to you. 

“I can!” You argued defensively, your tone stricken by pain. 

“Quiet” he shushed as he pressed his fingers to your wobbling lips. 

His blue eyes lingered over your bare neck, the visible clearing of his throat made yours tighten. The same fingers on your lips gradually maneuvered down your neck, living a trail of goosebumps as his front began to merge with yours. Suddenly, he gripped onto your hidden breasts harshly and groaned out at the sensation. 

You gasped and pushed his hands away in an overhasty manner. He scoffed at you as he eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed. In guilt of your initial reaction, your face cringed and shoulder curled in as he suddenly towered over you. 

“What? A husband can’t touch his wife?” he sarcastically questioned, his tone filled with spite. 

“No! It’s just…” you trailed off, his deadly stare caused your throat to go dry, mind blanking out of a reasonable response. 

“I see” he spat before storming out of the kitchen. 

Three days later, you drove Harry to stay with Noah and his wife, Penelope. Your husband had woken up in the middle of the night screaming and you struggled to calm him, too afraid to touch him. But when you did try to snap him out of it, he hit you and held your throat down onto the mattress. You pleaded for your life as his black as night eyes twitched. Right when you believed you would see the light, he let go and flew off of you. 

Harry stood in the doorway, crying as heavily as he physically could. You took a deep breath and went to comfort your child, your husband frozen against the wall as you hurried out of the bedroom. When Harry fell into a deep sleep, you found your husband back on the porch, a cigarette in between his lips as he sat in only his underwear. You urged him to come inside as he would freeze himself to death, but he ignored your presence. So you did all you could do, you pulled out your thickest blanket and hesitantly placed it over him. 

Later on when you had returned home from Noah’s, you firmly washed the dishes, sniffing as your tears rolled down your cheeks. You felt him lingering behind you, sensing his eyes watching you. There were slow creaks behind you and you shuddered as you felt his breath against the back of your neck. His arms wrapped firmly around your waist as he pressed your back to his chest. It was calming, the touch that you longed for so desperately. He kissed your neck and you found your head leaning back against him. 

“Tell me” he murmured as he kissed your neck again. You hummed submissively and closed your tired eyes. “How many men have you fucked?” he huffed, tightening his grip on your waist. 

Your body went stiff underneath him and you were lost for words. As you attempted to turn around to face him, he held you in place. The longer you struggled to form a response, the more you were filling his beliefs.  

“What, no, no I-” you stuttered as you felt your heart pound in your chest. 

“I know you did sweetheart” he countered, nibbling on the skin on your neck. You whimpered against him as your body trembled. 

“Darling no-” you shook your head, tears shedding from your stinging eyes. 

“Shush, obedient doting wives would jump on their husbands’ cock at first chance. I’ve been waiting to see you on your knees, but you’re avoiding me like a disease” he retorted, his hands now groping onto your tits. 

The tent in his pants was pressed against your ass as his hips slowly began to hump against you. The depths of his breathing was like he was a beast as he painfully massaged your breasts. His moans were rough, hands almost shaking from the lack of sexual desire his body had. 

“I didn’t want to disturb you… You’ve hardly spoken to me” you sniveled. 

“Was my service now an inconvenience for you?” he hissed, licking up to your jawline.  

“No! I didn’t mean it that way!” you shrieked. 

“Quiet” he ordered harshly and you obeyed. His hands scrunched up your dress, quickly roaming on your thighs. You grumbled out, your thighs naturally squeezing together as his fingertips teased your skin. “Do you know what I’ve sacrificed? To protect you? To protect Harry” he questioned, digits finding their way to your inner thighs. 

“Please, I” you stammered. 

“So, how many?” he questioned.

“None!” you yelped as he slipped his fingers under your panties. 

“You sure?” he taunted quietly, pushing his digits inside of you.

“Yes my love, I love you!” you swore, cheeks beet red and throat closing in.

A short beat. 

“Not even my brother?” he asked calmly. Your heart got caught in your throat. You tried to turn around once more but his hand kept your head to the front.

“Darling no!” You exclaimed. 

“I saw the way you looked at him, do you think I’m stupid?” He snarled.

“No! I only want you! I love you with all of my heart!” You promised, sobbing pathetically. 

Your husband hummed in satisfaction as his hands slid out, his fingers coated in your goodness. With a small step back, he guided you to turn around. Your big eyes glistered at him and he looked down at you. Slowly, his hand guided yours onto his erection and rubbed himself softly, a relieving moan trailing from his lips. 

“Then why don’t you get onto your knees and please your husband?” He suggested with a sly grin. 

Quickly, you fell to your knees, your hand quickly fumbled to free his length. His trousers were tugged to his knees by your needy hands. His cock flung out immediately, slapping your cheek in the process. You gulped, forgetting how large your husband was. Hesitantly, you stroked his hard member, observing the precum that leaked from his tip. It made your mouth water and you looked up to him for reassurance.  

Your tongue swirled over his thick tip. Hands rested on the back of his thighs to support yourself as you ran your tongue down his length. Your husband groaned out, his rough hands petted your hair in contempt. From the sparks of pleasure, he felt like his knees would buckle in. His hands slipped underneath your hair and supported the back of your head as he encouraged you to take him further. 

“Ugh! Fuck… Fucking lovely” he moaned out, feeling himself already climbing to the edge. 

It had been so long for him. He needed this, needed to feel you. Your humming sent vibrations down his throbbing length, he felt his posture curl in as his needy hips began to thrust painfully into your mouth. You gagged out, forcing your tongue to remain poked out. It had been so long for you both, your thighs pressed together as you could feel yourself drip. Your hand massaged his balls, his eyes rolled back from impact. His hands tugged roughly at your roots. 

“Gonna… Fucking gonna coat you” he grunted out as he felt his orgasm tease himself at the edge.

Quickly, he pulled out his length and pointed at your eyes. Your eyes squeezed shut, mouth open as he jerked his wet dick quickly, his heavy moans and breaths echoed throughout the room. As he cried out, his white ropes shot at your face, coating your eyes, nose and mouth. He panted out, his hands untangling themselves from your hair. He smiled down at you and rubbed his hand over your face, smudging his semen over every inch, marking you as his. 

“Let’s go back to bed” your husband breathed out as he lifted you up. 

[christophernolan]

I have always said publicly and privately, to Chris, that if I’m available and you want me to be in a movie, I’m there. I don’t really care about the size of the part. But deep down, secretly, I was desperate to play a lead for him. We have this long-standing understanding and trust and shorthand and respect. He’s had a profound impact on my life, creatively and professionally. He’s offered me very interesting roles over and I’ve found all of them really challenging. And I just love being on his sets. It’s an event every time he releases a film, and rightly so. Whether I’m in them or not, I always go to see his movies. — Cillian Murphy on working with Christopher Nolan.

If I could cast Cillian in every film I ever do, and just lean on him for the rest of my career, I'd be a happy man. — Christopher Nolan on working with Cillian Murphy.

CHRISTOPHER NOLAN & CILLIAN MUPRHY cinematic universe | (in/sp)

[cillianmurphyfanatic]

Cillian Murphy as Shivering Soldier in Dunkirk (2017) dir. Christopher Nolan

[tiredkitten]

Cillian Murphy in Dunkirk (2017) hits differently. So goddamn gorgeous!

-Ctto.

[paradise-yuna]

I will never get over the fact that Christopher Nolan is actually a colourblind and blue is the only colour he can see the most.

[deepestconnoisseurmoon]

Dunkirk (2017) Dir. Christopher Nolan

[iconsfinder]

[enidsinclair]

reporter: i know you spent a lot of the last decade working in both WWI and WWII projects…

cillian: hAVE i?

[kiernanshayemckay]

Beautiful Cillian Murphy

[hellish-cruelty]

In flames

Movies- 1917 (2019), Manchester by the sea (2016), Skyfall (2012), Jarhead (2005), There will be blood (2007), Burning (2018), Dunkirk (2017), Macbeth (2015), The revenant (2015), Mirror (1975)

[texaschainsawmascara]

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

Female Company

Pairing - Shivering Soldier Dunkirk x fem!reader

Summary - You decide to give the shivering soldier some company in hopes to make him feel better, you do indeed.

Warnings - dubcon, handjob, blow job, rough.

Word count - 1.8k

Notes - Shivering soldier Cillian is underrated, also difficult to write so sorry if horrible writing as this felt rushed.

“Perhaps some female company would make him feel better” Peter, your brother suggested. All six eyes turned onto you, making your heart skip a beat. “Feel less intimidated and what not” Peter added. 

Since you had saved the shivering soldier from the shipwreck, he had been at mute, refusing to show any signs of communication with anyone. He was down below deck, getting warm and hopefully to become more comfortable around these friendly strangers.  

It was risky, you weren’t even really allowed on the Moonstone anyways. But you wanted to help, your father raised you properly, you were a qualified nurse for the army, you were here to help. 

“I’m sure I can be good enough company” George interjected. George didn’t like it, the thought of you being alone down there with the shivering soldier, but that was more out of jealousy than obligation. 

Mr Dawson shook his head towards George, then looked towards you. “I’m sure you’ll be able to make him feel comfortable enough sweetheart” your father gave you a pure smile. “And, God forbid if anything were to happen, we are all right here” Mr Dawson ached, raising his hands slightly at the thought of something bad occurring. 

But your father trusted you, you were a good person who followed pure morals. All your life you’ve helped others, what’s one more soldier to the list? George gave an iffy look but decided to remain silent, looking out the ocean with his fists forming under his sleeves. 

The small door creaked open as you stepped inside. “Hello?” You whispered as you lowered down the small ladder, you closed the small door behind you. 

The shivering soldier was lying on the small, uncomfortable ship bed, a blanket wrapped around his cold body. His eyes were closed but you could tell he was awake. Slowly peeking open, the soldier stared you up and down. The soldier repositioned himself, sitting up on the thin mattress. You sat down next to him, the room was swaying in motion with the waves outside. 

Sitting in silence for a while, you decided to break it. “Is there anything I can do for you? Water? More blankets?” You asked politely. 

There were already such limited services you could provide for him, being on such a small boat and all. You were used to being able to help people, especially in these desperate times, but right now you feel hopeless.  

After a short beat, the soldier mumbled his reply, “I’m okay, thank you”. You tried to read his expression, coming to the harsh thoughts that he didn’t seem to be amused to have you down here with him, that he just wanted to be alone after all, that you were intruding.  

He was beautiful, despite his worn out expression and dirty, wet appearance. There were dark bags around his ocean blue eyes, and a couple of scratches over his face. You felt horrible for him, it was unimaginable what trauma the war can cause upon a man. No one would ever understand how terrifying and ruining his mind had become over this short time. 

“Are you certain?” You checked, you’d hate that he would decline your help by either being too afraid or polite. There was no response from him. “Perhaps if you took off your jacket you could warm up faster” you suggested harmlessly, the soldier looked at you, his mouth was ajar open and eyes dark. 

War tested men’s temptations, it demonstrated how much they really depended on a woman's touch. Men needed something to feel good about in these horrible days, their urges took over their logistics if no one was there to keep them in line. And right now you were defenceless in the beast’s cage, and he was off his chain.

In his defence, you were asking for it. Why else would you ask such a thing twice and then practically beg him to strip? The soldier quickly leant in and kissed you hungrily, his arms snaked around your body to keep you still. You were frozen, not sure how to react to his assault, his tongue slipped down your throat, hands gripping against your lower back as if life depended on it. His left hand moved to your breasts and kneaded them dispairly.  

You’ve been kissed before, only once, but it was nothing compared to this, never so passionate and amorous. 

A moan struggled to break out of your combined lips. Swiftly, he picked up your body and laid you onto your back, not as gently as you could hope, your hand reached for the ache stinging from the back of your head. 

“Be a good little girl, and stay quiet, hm?” He ordered, his hand tapping your cheek to flatter you. 

What else were you meant to do? Call out for help? Start a domestic between an old man, two kids and a war soldier? Even if you did so, what would happen afterwards, you’re on a boat deeply within the ocean. 

The soldier felt your body with his rough hands, he was desperate to feel any touch, but too impatient to take it slow. Unbuttoning your shirt roughly, you were lucky that he didn’t rip off the buttons.  The shape and look of your breasts made him believe he was already in heaven. When was the last time he’s felt a woman’s touch? How many countless nights of him dreaming for intimate touch? His mouth landed on your right breast first, then the left. 

There wasn’t enough time, to properly feel you, to worship your body, to come over and over again. Your bodies felt the friction of the waves rocking yourselves back and forwards. Head in the palms of his hands, the soldier's hips were humping against yours, your legs wrapped around his small waist, he was groaning lowly, unable to contain himself, kissing your neck and side of your face. 

Lying stiff underneath him, you couldn’t help but to moan back quietly, the fabrics between your bodies was too thick to feel the sensations fully, but this is the most touching of a man you’ve ever felt before, your back arched on the mattress. 

“The fuck are you wearing pants for?” The soldier muttered, slapping the side of your thigh harshly. “How am I meant to fuck you without getting caught, aye?” He spat by your ear. 

A lot of people still considered it taboo for women to wear pants, it took away femininity, and in this case, the easy access. 

“M’sorry” you whimpered back underneath him, cheeks all flustered from the embarrassment and overwhelming situation. 

“Guess you’re just going to have to put that mouth to better use” he sighed and sat up, he pulled you down to the ground, you landed on your knees. Repositioning you to be directly in front of him, he flexed his hips towards you. “Do you know how to suck cock?” He asked smugly. 

“N-no” you whispered.

“Ever please a man at all before?” His eyebrow was cocked to you. 

“No sir” you replied and he chuckled. 

“That’s sweet, I’ll be quick anyways” he said with another tap to your cheek. 

He gestured for you to put your hands onto his crotch, you could see the bulge through his damp pants but you didn’t expect it to feel so solid. It was like playing with a knick-knack, your hands travelled all around it, feeling its shape and size. 

“Uh, alright, pull it out now, love” he purred, hand caressing the sides of your head with his eyes closed. 

Your stomach turned at the way he called you love, you didn’t realise how badly you craved that validation. There was this undying small innocent smile on your lips, he looked down to you and gave you a smug smile back and a gentle pat on the cheek.

With shaking hands, you undid his belt and tugged down at his trousers. The soldier ended up helping you, not out of kindness, only restlessness. You gasped as he pulled out his cock, you didn’t realise it could be so – big. The soldier's cock was hairy as the base, had a couple of veins popping out at his length and had a pretty pink tip. If you knew any better about sex, you’d say that he’s already about to burst. 

It was like natural instincts, he didn’t have to say anything, you automatically took his length in both hands, staring from the base and working your way up. He groaned and his head fell back, hands in your hair as you slowly worked your hands up and down his length. In another reality, he would have loved to have you take your time, worshipping his cock. 

“Okay, sweetheart, I need your mouth around me right now” he hissed, leaning his upper body forward easily to push your head towards his member with his hands. 

You pushed against him, your lips an inch away from his tip, okay, this was getting frightening now. The realisation of what you were doing below deck, could be interrupted at any moment, freaked you out. But that didn’t stop him, he pulled harder, making you yelp and your mouth pressed against his member. But you refused to open up for him, he rubbed your mouth and nose around his firm length, your hands pressed against his upper legs in an attempt to push free but it was pointless, you were whining. 

“Fucking open up, you dumb whore” he spat, you mewled quietly, too afraid to catch anyone’s attention on deck. Reluctantly, you slowly opened your mouth and he slipped his tip in. “Ah, fuck” he muttered, the rocking of the boat, thrusted him deeper in and out of your mouth. He had no shame in swearing, muttering and whining underneath his breath, his balls already tightening. “Christ, I’m not going to fucking last-” he was breathless, eyes almost rolling back. 

Forcing your mouth right down to his base, your cries were blocked by his size. There was no space to breathe, your jaw was aching and you were gagging. With how wide your mouth was, you were afraid that your jaw would lock, it was aching, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat over and over again. Tears were running down your cheeks as he was groaning under his breath, eyes squeezed shut, nostrils flaring and jaw clenched. 

Without a warning, he bursted right down your mouth, his legs shaking slightly, hands tightened around your hair. The soldier bit on his lower lip to silence his moan of pleasure as his cock was spurting out straight into your throat. 

It tasted salty and bitter, your face scrunched up at the taste, but he didn’t pull out his member until you swallowed it all, it was difficult to swallow with his cock covering the entirety of your mouth. Slowly slipping himself out, he tucked himself back into his trousers and ran his hand through his hair. 

Tears were slowly running down your cheeks, you felt your aching jaw softly and sniffled, the soldier pulled you up onto the bed and wiped your face clean with his bare hand. He sighed, looking you up and down. Giving you one last kiss, he murmured to you, “thanks for the company”.

[denimbex1986]

'When Cillian Murphy took to the podium during Sunday night’s Golden Globes, his nose smudged in his wife’s lipstick, it was as if a door had opened on this Hollywood Neverland and an ambassador for the real world had stepped through.

Accepting the Best Actor in a Drama award for Oppenheimer, Murphy wasn’t so much un-starry as stonkingly everyday. Here was a normal person who had somehow beamed into peak Tinseltown and, if pleased, was also clearly a bit perplexed by it all.

The Oppenheimer win has made Murphy a frontrunner for the Oscars. In all likelihood, he will be up against a creepy Barry Keoghan in Saltburn, an overblown Bradley Cooper in Maestro, and a fervent Leonard DiCaprio in Killers of the Flower Moon. With the arguable exception of the grandstanding Cooper, all would be worthy winners. And yet, underdogs everywhere will be cheering for Murphy. He’s spent the past 20 years negotiating Hollywood on his own terms and has rejected Tinseltown’s showiness in favour of staying grounded and playing the long game.

Murphy always wanted to be an actor rather than a star. Such a choice could easily have condemned him to a lifetime of supporting roles. Or a hiatus in TV, to which he seemed exiled when he settled in for a long run as Tommy Shelby in Birmingham noir Peaky Blinders.

But his decision to turn away from flashy parts has proved inspired. He is that rarest of things: an experienced A-list actor who comes to the Oscars without baggage. Unlike DiCaprio, he hasn’t had to overcome a past life as a teen pin-up. Nor does he have to justify a lucrative stint in comic book films, as Cooper has with his time as Rocket Racoon in Guardians of the Galaxy.

Above all, Murphy goes into Oscar season as an antidote to the “look at me!” culture of the social media era. In an age when fame is regarded as the ultimate commodity – more important than awards or critical acclaim – Murphy would rather let his work speak for itself. He lives humbly in suburban Dublin with his wife and two children – and his great passion outside of acting is music, as demonstrated by his semi-regular presenting slot on BBC 6 Music.

That’s lifetimes removed from Hollywood, with its self-mythologising and turbo-charged fakeness. It is also of a piece with his career since he broke through playing a survivor of the zombie apocalypse in Danny Boyle’s 28 Days Later. Ever since, he has chosen his jobs thoughtfully. In so doing, he has assembled a body of work of which he can be proud.

He hasn’t been above popcorn. He was a memorable villain in Christopher Nolan’s Batman Begins, where he played the Scarecrow as a trippy nightmare. But even when shooting for the box office, Murphy has been studiedly un-starry. Careful to keep his ego in check, he’s often happy in an ensemble – hugging the background in A Quiet Place II and settling for an extended cameo in Nolan’s Dunkirk, where he was content to let Harry Styles and Tom Hardy hog the spotlight.

Hog it they did – yet it was Murphy who proved to be in it for the long road. Because he could go into Oppenheimer without a Hollywood aura, he disappeared into the role. If hardly obscure, he nonetheless assimilated fully into the part. Throughout that film, you were aware of its stars. Florence Pugh and Emily Blunt doing their best with under-written female characters. Robert Downey Jr trying to pretend he hadn’t spent a decade as Iron Man.

Murphy, by contrast, split the acting atom. He vanished into Oppenheimer with a performance that exuded humility and sincerity. Bookies have now installed him as a favourite for the Best Actor Oscar. If he wins, it would be a victory for knowing who you are and what you stand for and believing good work has value beyond short-term acclaim. Above all, his success shows that it is possible to stay grounded while scaling Hollywood’s giddiest heights.'

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

I am far far far to attracted to the shivering soldier…

[feasibilities]

i've gotten sick (sinus bs from allergies) so i spent my time rotting in bed and rewatched dunkirk. i have unfortunately fell in love with shivering soldier.

[thevelvetvampyre]

I remember being 13 at the Dunkirk premiere dying to see Harry Styles only for Cillian Murphy to walk past me and the air literally leaving my lungs. I genuinely stopped breathing and got light headed. The first and only time I’ll ever experience love at first sight. My life hasn’t been the same since.