#inception one shot

[corrupte3d-mindz]

About Me:

I’m a 16 year old who loves writing about my favorite characters that live in my head rent free. I’m currently ending my sophomore year and moving to junior year; I found out that I’ll be 17 as a senior which is kinda weird. I speak English as a first language but I have a bit of dyslexia so I tend to add a word that didn’t need to be there or I forgot a word. If you notice it and I haven’t just hit me up and I’ll fix it along with that kind gesture I’ll also ask for you to give me a prompt/idea that you may want me to write, I love hearing other’s ideas and helping them to put it to paper. I tend to be very step by step writer because I like to give a very good visual representation of what’s going down but I tend to do it badly but it’s in the process of becoming more refined and better.

MASTERLIST BELOW

Warnings:

Some of these series have very sensitive topics like rape, drug abuse, gore, and death. If you do not like those topics then please stay away from them, I don’t want to deal with complaining. Half of my stuff will be dark, depraved, and depressing. Reading this and choosing to go further is all up to you. If you need to step away from one of my posts because you are struggling to make it through then drop it entirely, it will only get worse from there.

Any dark and depraved depictions of certain characters who are not like that normally will most likely happen in my blog , but for the ones that do have it, it’ll be worse. The ones that don’t normally have it I do not see them in that light. I just write them in that light.

For the depraved people like myself, you may continue on and please enjoy my work that I love to do. Thank you and have a wonderful day/night.

Codes:

𑁍 — Fluff

𖥻 — Humor

𖤐 — Angst

☹︎ — Dark

♧ — Smut

♔ — Headcanons

〇 — One-Shots

⧉ — Potential Series

꩜ — Series

Color Codes:

Red: Extreme non-con elements or just extremely dark themes

Orange: Some dark elements mentioned or conveyed.

Blue: Barely any dark themes at all; probably just the mention of alcohol, drugs, or blood. It’s the bare fucking bones.

Pink: Either it’s mainly smut or a shitty plot with smut..

Green: Nothing bad at all, it’s just fluff and kind things happening around here.

White: Either I haven’t written it yet, in the process or just have no clue what I want to put it under as yet.

Who I write for:

Celebrities

Cillian Murphy

Series:

Cost of Fame Part 2 ꩜,♧,𖤐,𑁍

One-shots:

On My Dime 〇,𑁍

Lavish Love 〇,♧,𑁍

My fucking baby! 〇,𑁍

Red Carpet Rush 〇,♧,𑁍

Ageless Beauty 〇,♧,𖥻,𑁍

Falling on deaf ears 〇,𑁍

BTS of Peaky Blinders 〇,𑁍

Lights, Camera, Cillian 〇,𑁍

Behind Closed Doors 〇,☹︎,𖤐,♧

Headcanons:

Tom Hardy

Series:

One-shots:

Headcanons:

Venom

Eddie Brock

Serious:

One-shots:

Headcanons:

Peaky Blinders

Thomas Shelby

Series:

Wild & Free ꩜,♧,𖤐,𑁍

Bloodlines ꩜,♧,𖤐,𑁍

Nocturnal Allies ꩜,♧,𖤐,𑁍

A Deal with the Devil ꩜,☹︎,𖤐,♧,𑁍

One-Shots:

His Angel 〇,𑁍

Silent Vows 〇,𑁍,♧

Blood Brothers 〇,☹︎,𖤐

Sleepless Nights 〇,𑁍

Burning Embers 〇,𖤐,𑁍

Little White Lies 〇,𖤐

Needle & Thread 〇,⧉,𑁍

Forever a Shelby 〇,𑁍,𖥻

The Ghost of You 〇,𖤐,𑁍

Uncharted Territory ⧉,𑁍

Veil of Deception 〇,𑁍,♧

Shadows of Ambition

Tangled Memories

Headcanons:

John Shelby

Series:

The Crimson Crown ꩜,♧,𖤐,𑁍

One-Shots:

Blood and Whiskey

Headcanons:

Finn Shelby

Series:

One-Shots:

To The Bone 〇

Headcanons:

Micheal Gray

Series:

One-Shots:

The Unseen Enemy 〇

Blood and Business 〇

The Cost of Loyalty 〇

Whiskey and Secrets 〇

Whispers in the Night 〇

Gray Days & Dark Nights 〇

Headcanons:

Luka Changretta

Series:

Sins in the Shadows ꩜,♧,𖤐,𑁍

One-shots:

Silent Threat 〇,𖤐,♧

Headcanons:

Alfie Solomons

Series:

Old Wounds ꩜,♧,𖤐,𑁍

One-Shots:

The Last Toast ⧉,𖤐,♧,𑁍

A King Among Men 〇,𖤐,♧,𑁍

A Pint and a Promise 〇,𖤐,♧,𑁍

Headcanons:

Sir Oswald Mosley

Series:

The Enemy Within ꩜,𖤐,♧,𑁍

One-Shots:

Daddy’s Girl 〇,𖤐,♧,𑁍

Pillow Princess 〇,𖤐,♧,𑁍

Echoes in the Alley ⧉,𖤐,♧,𑁍

Tempting the Tyrant ⧉,𖤐,♧,☹︎,𑁍

Headcanons:

The Dark Knight Trilogy or The Batman Trilogy

Dr. Jonathan Crane

Series:

Nightmare in Gotham ꩜,☹︎,𖤐,♧,𑁍

In Your Shadow part 2 ꩜,☹︎,𖤐,♧,𑁍

One-Shots:

Headcanons:

A Quiet Place Part ||

Emmett Abbott

Series:

One-Shots:

Headcanons:

Watching the Detectives

Neil Lewis

Series:

One-Shots:

Headcanons:

Inception

Robert Fischer

Series:

The Siren Files 2 ꩜,𖤐,♧,𑁍

One-Shots:

Hell on Wheels 〇,𖥻,𑁍

Actually Burning 〇,𖥻,𑁍

The Illusion of Control 〇,𖤐,♧,𑁍

Headcanons:

Red Eye

Jackson Rippner

Series:

Unmasked ꩜,☹︎,𖤐,♧,𑁍

One-Shots:

Headcanons:

This master-list will be updated once I have a couple of stories out to the public then this message will disappear.

[duckietiewritestoo]

Stressed out (Robert Fischer x Reader)

I had no idea what I was writing with this. I just wanted to toy with the concept of being stressed out with Robert Fischer. I hope you like it. 

WARNING: Cheesy

(Credits to original creator of the gif)

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_

I put my head down on the desk. My eyes watched the pen roll back and forth on the desk. I needed this break, so I put my head down and began to push the pen back. My fingers ached from doing writing all day. It was impossible to hold my hand open for long. My muscles were cramped from clenching a pen for endless hours. Sweat lingered in between my fingers. My hands were cold and clammy, exhausted from writing on paper. 

The desk in the bedroom was tucked away in the corner. The window was right next to it, providing perfect lighting for when I worked at home. Robert was in bed reading a book. He arrived from work early and got to relaxing immediately, dressed in loose but casual clothes he rarely wore. I saw him from the corner of my eye. I was jealous he got to relax while I did some work. He was C.E.O of Fischer-Morrow, the biggest energy company and superpower in the world. I managed to persuade him not to break up the empire his father built. I also managed to encourage him to leave it to the hands of better men while he pursued whatever it is he wanted to do.

And it was working out for him.

Me? Not so much. I had too much work on my hands, not enough time. Drifting apart from Robert seemed likely. I didn’t want that to happen. I had to get this thesis done by the end of the week. It was a 5,000 word requirement on the subconscious and how it works when we’re sleeping. I was analyzing dreams, how they form and why. My own essay was putting me to sleep. Ironic. 

“How’s it going?” His questions snapped me out of my daze. It took me a moment to process what he said. 

“Shut up,” I answered, smiling. “If I had a pillow, I’d throw it at your face for that comment. But you’re lucky I’m at the desk.” My cheek squished against the hard wood of the desk. I got a chance to see Robert’s pretty smile. Robert laughed, tilting his head.

“You’re stressed, I can tell,” he replied. Robert closed his books. He pulled down the covers and patted the space next to him. “Join me for a bit to relax, yes?” I huffed.

“No,” I said. He sighed. 

“(Name), we’ve been over this. You’ve denied my offer to help support you. You can’t keep stretching yourself out like this. If you’re going to work, at least allow me to be a good man and let you relax.” I groaned, although it was more like a whine. I slipped out of the chair, falling limp on the floor. I was squished against the carpet. It smelled a bit funny, like feet. We really needed to get this cleaned. 

“What are you doing?” Robert asked, laughing.

“I’m trying to get to you,” I mumbled face down into the carpeted floor. I whined, stretching out my fingers. I wanted him to carry me. “But I’m so tired, Robert!” I wasn’t complaining, not really. The covers shifted as Robert moved out of bed. He walked over to where I was laying. His hands grabbed my waist first before he hoisted me onto my feet. He kissed my forehead gently.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he whispered, completely scooping me up in his arms. I groaned, putting my head on his shoulder. I inhaled deeply. The rich cologne Robert always wore to work lingered. It was a sweet smell, made to have a soft side to not sting the nose.

Robert carried me and placed me down in the bed. I sunk into the mattress and rolled onto my side, carrying the blanket with me. That got a chuckle out of Robert, who pulled back the covers. The bed weighed down as he sat next to me. 

“Seems you’ve gained a little,” I teased.

“You cut me deep, darling,” he answered. Robert mockingly put his hand over his heart. I scoffed. I hurt him? Seriously? I giggled, resting my head on his shoulder. Robert snaked an arm around my waist, hoisting me up in bed.

“You know I don’t mean it,” I muttered, kissing his cheek. “But, I’m just saying, we’re getting older and our metabolism is slowing down, so take it easy on the dessert.” Robert laughed.

“Oh wow, so I guess you’re really not stressed out,” he replied, kissing my cheek. “You have the energy to poke at me but not the energy to finish your work? Tsk, (Name), are you pretending to be stressed out?” I pouted.

“I’m not faking it,” I replied, curling my lower lip. “I really am stressed.”

“When you say it like that, I don’t believe you,” he teased, nudging my side. “So, are you faking it?” 

“No. And I can prove it,” I said. 

The next moment was pure ecstasy. I was hoping to argue more, make my point like I said I was going to do, but Robert leaned down and kissed me. The moment was surprisingly romantic and slow. It was like time stopped. My heart pounded. The thudding was the only thing I could hear.  His lips were soft, pressed against mine. I closed my eyes. Robert took the lead as always. My body reacted positively as I kissed him back. His hands were on my cheeks, carefully and gently caressing my face. I didn’t feel as stressed as I did before. It was like his touch erased the tension I had.

“How was that?” he whispered. “Are you still feeling stressed?”  I blinked a few times, still processing the kiss. He broke it off so soon.

“No,” I muttered. Robert chuckled, pressing his lips against my briefly. My heart pounded. It was so quick, yet it lingered. My cheeks were bright red.

“Then I assume you don’t need me to help you relax?” he teased. I pouted in response. I just wanted to stay in his arms. Robert laughed, smiling ear to ear. “Yes, I know what you’re going to say. You can stay with me in bed a while longer.”

[firemenenthusiast]

i really think its weird that some cillian stans edit his wife bro…especially using some inappropriate song with it. and people saying and commenting all stuff about looks like you guys are so miserable for that. not to mention jokes like she gets it and all, its weird. take your obsession with him and GO, do not include his wife. be respectful

[zaraquinn]

i wish you love.

chapter ii | fragile.

—————

summary: You and Robert spend the night out, and internal realizations from the both of you kickstart the start of your own goals towards each other.

—————

tw: depictions and mentions of domestic abuse, manipulation and a toxic relationship

word count: +2.5k

female!reader x robert fischer (inception)

author’s notes and additional notes: sorry for the late upload, but here’s the next instalment! i’m happy to hear this being well received, so i’m continuing it! so whoever was waiting, wait no longer <3

masterlist !

series masterpost: coming soon !

——————

The doors let you go with a ding and they close. Stepping onto the main waiting area, you walked through the floor; through the waiting and meeting rooms and to a hall—the path led by shiny wooden floors. You make your way to the end of the hallway to the door of Robert’s office. His name is in bold, black letters embossed on a golden plaque.

You take a breath and lean closer to the door, the three soft knocks that announce your presence.

———

“Come in.” A voice from the other side beckons. You follow the voice and open the door, to see Robert starting to clean up his stuff, getting ready to head out. You meet his small smile as you enter the door, and immediately help him gather some papers. “Sorry Mr. Fischer, I was just checking up on you. Here, let me.” You offer and your hand gently lays on the desk close to his for the papers. Your words temporarily stop him for a moment. You were checking up on him. A small smirk made its way to his face as he slowly took the papers from you. “It’s okay Y/N, you’ve done too much today. I should repay you for your help.” He says, his voice was soft. His soft and gentle tone is rare to hear, as it was not meant for the cutthroat workplace that Fischer-Morrow was. You smiled with a mirrored smirk and a chuckle. “You do repay me Mr. Fischer; with my salary.” Your chuckle at your joke painted a bigger smile at your boss, who looked at you with his beautiful blue eyes.

“Don’t be silly Y/N. I mean it. You helped me more than I can count.” You looked up at your boss and smiled. Oh, what you would do to kiss him right now. Those ocean eyes are starting to make you melt under pressure. I mean, they always have, but this time he looked at you differently; you couldn’t put your finger on it. “Oh, well, of course, Mr. Fischer.” You said with a small smile.

Robert smiled sweetly, clearing his throat and feeling the nerves start to get the best of him. The words seem to be stuck at the base of his throat: his palms are starting to sweat and he can feel his heartbeat increase tenfold. The waiting look you’re giving him is making him melt.

Robert takes a breath and chuckles off the growing nerves. “And to repay you, I’m offering you to join me for dinner tonight—unless you want to of course.” Your heart felt like it was about to burst through your chest. The words that came out of your boss’ mouth were something you thought you never would have wanted. With your relationship already hanging on a single thread, your crush on Robert increased. But you never done anything considering it was unprofessional…wait. Was it unprofessional if he was asking?

You smiled and felt a heated blush touch the surface of your cheeks. “I would love to, Mr. Fischer but; would this be considered inappropriate?” You asked, crossing your arms in thought. Robert smirked shyly. “It’s for business if anyone asks. You have your organizer, correct?” He said as he finished packing his suitcase. You stood there in awe and a dumb smile. “Yeah, I do.” “Then let’s head out.” He smiles and opens the door for you. You turn around and return a short ‘thank you’ as you walk past him; trying so hard to contain the glee that’s about to jump out of your chest. Unbeknownst to you, however, Robert was doing the same thing. The sheer happiness and warmth that you said yes was hard to contain—especially on his facial features.

—

Following him closely behind, Robert swiftly walked outside, being a gentleman throughout. Letting you step first, holding the doors for you, etc. You smiled at the gesture, as you both ended up outside the large Fischer-Morrow building. With his hand on your waist leading you forward, the driver arrived just in time to open the door and collect both your and Robert’s briefcases.

Stepping into the car and settling in your usual spot, Robert did the same and muttered to the driver the restaurant name and soon, the car made it’s way onto the busy city roads.

You felt the air already get awkward and you took a breath, before turning to your boss with a smile. “So, what’s the place you had in mind?” You politely asked, hoping to lighten the air and the car ride. Robert turned his attention to you, a soft smile painting his lips. “A small place. Nothing fancy.” You chuckled, and it took Robert everything to not react the way he wanted. Your laughs and giggles were certainly music to his ears. “You know we have different definitions of fancy, Robert.” He shrugs playfully. “I don’t think so. I think we’re about the same.” You titled your head sideways, looking at him with a playful look. “I think in one of our late night overtimes in your office, fancy is very different in our books.” “I do remember. And I do like your version of fancy. It’s simple.” You too engage in small talk, like you have done thousands of times before.

“So I should expect dazzling chandeliers and high ceilings?” You humoured. He chuckled, glad you were playing along. “It’s a hole in the wall place. I usually don’t go here for meetings. It’s more personal.” He smiles, watching your blushing face under the moving lights from the street. You felt your cheeks heat up and you smiled, hiding your face as you cast your eyes downward.

———

You had arrived at the fancy restaurant with Robert. Of course, he had humorously labelled it as a “small place, nothing fancy”. You begged a differ when your eyes went wide with awe at how beautiful the restaurant was in fact, and how you immediately felt out of place.

Robert immediately took note of your equal awe and embarrassment and guided you closer to him with a hand on the small of your back. The waiter approached the two of you and led you both to your lavish table, overlooking the Sydney city skyline. “Is this okay for you?” Robert asked, taking you out of your trance. “Yes of course! This is more than okay, Mr. Fischer, I assure you.” Professionalism still lacing your voice he chuckled. “You know we’re not at work Y/N, you can call me Robert.” A breathy chuckle escaped your lips as your eyes downcast in another wave of embarrassment. Oh, the effect he’s putting on you. “Um, right, yes. Sorry, Robert.” You let out a heavy sigh and smiled up at him. “It’s just a habit I guess. I don’t necessarily see you outside of Fischer-Morrow so…” Robert smiled; his eyebrows furrowing in curiosity. “Hmm. Well, I’m sure you go out more days than I do; have friends of your own.” “I don’t. You’re probably my only real friend if had in years.” His look softened while his heart skipped a beat inside. “Sorry, that wasn’t supposed to be sad. It’s just a fact. A fact that I am okay with.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. I think we are the same in that sense. You know how the company has become my life—it’s hard to form real connections nowadays. Especially with my father—” Your hands immediately go to Robert’s in comfort, noting the slight crack and tone change in his voice when mentioning his father. “—it’s okay Robert. You don’t have to talk about work and your father here. It's a safe space!” You quipped at that last part, hoping the comfort was what he needed. He gave a shy smile and a nod, agreeing with your words. “You’re right. Thank you.” And with that, the waiter had come by with already Robert’s preferred wine and water for you. He asked the two what you would order and you looked at the menu, unsure of the dishes. Barely any photos provided visuals are the countless dishes and you hid yourself in your menu, lowering your head in embarrassment. The waiter spoke to Robert, and before moving to you, he quickly leaned in closer to Robert only to leave once again.

“I don’t know what to order. All of these look…great!” That last word you said playfully, hoping that the tone would fool Robert, but it didn’t as she shared another chuckle and tapped the top of your menu to get your attention. You lifted your head to showcase your eyes and to hide the growing blush on your cheeks. Robert gave a small, but genuine laugh at your demeanour, one that he frankly didn’t have much of. “It’s okay, I gave us a few more minutes.”

The huff of relief that gave away in your expression put a permanent smile on Robert’s cheeks, and he watched you put down the menu almost immediately. He had never seen you so animated. If this is what you acted beyond work, then my god was he falling for you hard. Due to your younger age, you were somewhat more casual and cheerful at work—it was refreshing really. Especially in a cutthroat work environment like Fischer-Morrow was, everyone took themselves too seriously. Of course, that was the face of the company; but it was a marvel that you could easily be just as animated and pure yet so professional. Robert saw it as a blessing and was glad that you were able to move in under his wing. It gave some light into work, especially now since it's been nothing but getting ready for the dark inevitable.

“Thank you, Robert.” You simply replied as he helped you decide what to order. It was a lot of playful exchange, with Robert describing some of the dishes and your face squinting in confusion. Simply put, you asked what was something classically delicious that you could pronounce, and with a small chuckle, Robert helped navigate which one you would like. The waiter soon came back, took the orders and headed to the kitchen. Silence befell the two of you once again until Robert coughed to clear the air.

“So what about you, Y/N? Anything going on at home?” He started with a small smile; His eyes focusing on your delicate hands that lay on the table. You chuckled at the thought and shook your head. “No. My life outside work is not interesting.” Robert’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Not from what you tell me. And that’s coming from me, where work is nothing but my life. C’mon, what about that trip you were going to take?” You chuckled nervously. You remembered that you hinted at a “trip” away from the city, which just meant away from your abusive boyfriend and out of that horrid house. “It’s still on the table, but, I guess on hold for you and the company. We both know that you’ll need it most now that—” You stop at your words and give another breathy chuckle; catching yourself talking about work. “I’m sorry, I’m breaking my own rule.” “It’s okay, we can change the subject.” You nod along and look at Robert, only now, his expression changed from calm to worried.

He reaches for your hands and grips them ever so gently. “Y/N, are you really okay at home?” You try to retreat your hands to hide the small bruises on your knuckles but Robert immediately calms you down. “It’s okay, Y/N. You can tell me. Remember? It’s a safe space.”

Your head tilts at his words and you can feel your heart flutter. Your heartbeat also increases tenfold and your hands start to generate sweat. “It’s nothing. I…” Robert gives a worried, almost pleading look, wanting to know the truth. “I can handle myself.” And that’s all that he needed to hear as he let go of a breath. “I can make it go away Y/N.” You nod your head. It’s sweet enough but with dealing with his father already you felt guilty that you had to add to his list. “Robert, you’re really sweet but it’s okay really. You have your father and the company to worry about—“ “Y/N, you are part of the company, an important part in that too. Please.”

With your hands in his, he rubs soothing and gentle circles with his thumb on your hands. The look he gave you would surely make you melt, and that’s when you realized that you could not deny it anymore. You’re in love with Robert. And you knew what you had to do. You nod ever so slightly at his words and his eyes finally soften.

Robert felt his heart drop with the thought of someone hurting you. You could never forgive himself as she felt like he should’ve addressed it sooner, but now was the time he could do something. It was going to be hard of course, with his father and the company, but he was going to keep his word. You were the only thing in his life that made sense to him—brought him friendship, loyalty and comfort at the worst times, and if he could return and do the same for you, he would do it in a heartbeat. He realize that he does love you.

———

The dinner had painted a smile on your face the entire night, and it felt great. But after Robert and his driver dropped you off back at home, you noticed the hesitation before he let you go inside. The hold on your hand lingered more than it should’ve but you didn’t care—you’d savour every moment with him if you could.

The late-night masked you in the dark home. Closing the door quietly, you made your way upstairs to the bedroom and suddenly, the lights turned on as you had quietly started to change into your pyjamas.

Your boyfriend stood in the dark. His figure sitting up on the bed looking at you with an unreadable expression. “Y/N, where were you?” You looked away, shaking your head in annoyance, switching your attention to removing your socks. Your heartbeat increased, however. “Overtime at work, I don’t need to explain again.” Suddenly, he gets up from the bed and rushes toward you, shoving you into the dresser. He traps you between him and the large dresser and his large frame. The dresser knobs dig into your back as the shock from the sudden rush startled you. “Don’t you talk back at me.” He says in a low, almost dangerous tone. Your breathing grows heavy and you immediately duck and get out between the dresser and his frame, shoving your boyfriend with all your might, he stumbles back.

He reacts with anger, throwing the nearest object at you, which is one of your favourite perfumes. The glass bottle shatters behind you and the liquid spills on the wall, staining the dark paint. You ducked just in time and moved when he threw it, missing you completely but you felt the shattered glass pieces making their way to bounce off of your back. “Stop it! I’m sorry okay?” You yelled at him. You ran to the bed, the farthest away you could get to your boyfriend when he tried to chase you. He jumps onto the bed and you try to get away, but he traps you within the bed, getting on top of you and using his weight against you.

“You really mean it?” He says, the tone of his voice different than it was before. You huffed as you were out of breath and couldn’t meet your boyfriend’s eyes. “Yes.” You say breathlessly, your tone shaky. “You know I just want to spend time with you. You’re never home and it’s driving me crazy.” He says, his voice different than his actions. “I love you. I just wanna be with you.” You nodded silently, as he started to bring kisses to your neck. You closed your eyes, exhausted with the same treatment you get every night. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes, his hand making its way underneath your shirt.

——

Your boyfriend lays asleep beside you in your shared bed, completely drunk and dozed off. You get out of bed and walk over to grab your discarded shirt on the floor and wrap it around you. Making your way under the covers you scoot away from your boyfriend as far as you possibly can on your bed, and you face away from him, towards your bedside table.

You see the phone on the bedside table, thinking about Robert’s words from dinner. Your hand reaches towards it, but you hesitate and stop. Looking back at your boyfriend, you get up again from the bed and go into your shared home office, turning on the laptop. The bright screen illuminates you from the darkness and your fingers quietly type away. The screen shows you the nearest hotels and their price listings, and you open another tab for any houses and spots to rent nearby work.

————

masterlist !

series masterpost !

[novashelby]

Cillian Murphy-Short Series and One Shots

Please be aware that this masterlist includes themes that may be triggering. Refer to my pinned list for possible triggers. MDNI. 18+ only. Will be updated as time goes by.

Just Breathe(Smut)

Nothing Comes for Free(Smut)

[oblivions-dawn]

In my fanfiction, there are lesbians everywhere. As there should be

[lavenderjewels]

(JJK 224 Spoilers)

[ID: Two pages from Jujutsu Kaisen. The first is the inside of a falling building where Gojo is looking back at Sukuna while sideways in a hallway. The second is Gojo throwing a door at Sukuna and clasping his hands together. End ID.]

everything about these two pages is perfect

[thenwhatthefukcisthis]

this is how arthur and eames sleep. And when they are both tired, they call yusuf.

[joycrispy]

Awhile ago @ouidamforeman made this post:

This shot through my brain like a chain of firecrackers, so, without derailing the original post, I have some THOUGHTS to add about why this concept is not only hilarious (because it is), but also...

It. It kind of fucks. Severely.

And in a delightfully Pratchett-y way, I'd dare to suggest.

I'll explain:

As inferred above, both Crowley AND Aziraphale have canonical Biblical counterparts. Not by name, no, but by function.

Crowley, of course, is the serpent of Eden.

(note on the serpent of Eden: In Genesis 3:1-15, at least, the serpent is not identified as anything other than a serpent, albeit one that can talk. Later, it will be variously interpreted as a traitorous agent of Hell, as a demon, as a guise of Satan himself, etc. In Good Omens --as a slinky ginger who walks funny)

Lesser known, at least so far as I can tell, is the flaming sword. It, too, appears in Genesis 3, in the very last line:

"So he drove out the man; and placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life." --Genesis 3:24, KJV

Thanks to translation ambiguity, there is some debate concerning the nature of the flaming sword --is it a divine weapon given unto one of the Cherubim (if so, why only one)? Or is it an independent entity, which takes the form of a sword (as other angelic beings take the form of wheels and such)? For our purposes, I don't think the distinction matters. The guard at the gate of Eden, whether an angel wielding the sword or an angel who IS the sword, is Aziraphale.

(note on the flaming sword: in some traditions --Eastern Orthodox, for example-- it is held that upon Christ's death and resurrection, the flaming sword gave up it's post and vanished from Eden for good. By these sensibilities, the removal of the sword signifies the redemption and salvation of man.

...Put a pin in that. We're coming back to it.)

So, we have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword, introduced at the beginning and the end (ha) of the very same chapter of Genesis.

But here's the important bit, the bit that's not immediately obvious, the bit that nonetheless encapsulates one of the central themes, if not THE central theme, of Good Omens:

The Sword was never intended to guard Eden while Adam and Eve were still in it.

Do you understand?

The Sword's function was never to protect them. It doesn't even appear until after they've already fallen. No... it was to usher Adam and Eve from the garden, and then keep them out. It was a threat. It was a punishment.

The flaming sword was given to be used against them.

So. Again. We have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword: the inception and the consequence of original sin, personified. They are the one-two punch that launches mankind from paradise, after Hell lures it to destruction and Heaven condemns it for being destroyed. Which is to say that despite being, supposedly, hereditary enemies on two different sides of a celestial cold war, they are actually unified by one purpose, one pivotal role to play in the Divine Plan: completely fucking humanity over.

That's how it's supposed to go. It is written.

...But, in Good Omens, they're not just the Serpent and the Sword.

They're Crowley and Aziraphale.

(author begins to go insane from emotion under the cut)

In Good Omens, humanity is handed it's salvation (pin!) scarcely half an hour after losing it. Instead of looming over God's empty garden, the sword protects a very sad, very scared and very pregnant girl. And no, not because a blameless martyr suffered and died for the privilege, either.

It was just that she'd had such a bad day. And there were vicious animals out there. And Aziraphale worried she would be cold.

...I need to impress upon you how much this is NOT just a matter of being careless with company property. With this one act of kindness, Aziraphale is undermining the whole entire POINT of the expulsion from Eden. God Herself confronts him about it, and he lies. To God.

And the Serpent--

(Crowley, that is, who wonders what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway; who thinks that maybe he did a GOOD thing when he tempted Eve with the apple; who objects that God is over-reacting to a first offense; who knows what it is to fall but not what it is to be comforted after the fact...)

--just goes ahead and falls in love with him about it.

As for Crowley --I barely need to explain him, right? People have been making the 'didn't the serpent actually do us a solid?' argument for centuries. But if I'm going to quote one of them, it may as well be the one Neil Gaiman wrote ficlet about:

"If the account given in Genesis is really true, ought we not, after all, to thank this serpent? He was the first schoolmaster, the first advocate of learning, the first enemy of ignorance, the first to whisper in human ears the sacred word liberty, the creator of ambition, the author of modesty, of inquiry, of doubt, of investigation, of progress and of civilization." --Robert G. Ingersoll

The first to ask questions.

Even beyond flattering literary interpretation, we know that Crowley is, so often, discreetly running damage control on the machinations of Heaven and Hell. When he can get away with it. Occasionally, when he can't (1827).

And Aziraphale loves him for it, too. Loves him back.

And so this romance plays out over millennia, where they fall in love with each other but also the world, because of each other and because of the world. But it begins in Eden. Where, instead of acting as the first Earthly example of Divine/Diabolical collusion and callousness--

(other examples --the flood; the bet with Satan; the back channels; the exchange of Holy Water and Hellfire; and on and on...)

--they refuse. Without even necessarily knowing they're doing it, they just refuse. Refuse to trivialize human life, and refuse to hate each other.

To write a story about the Serpent and the Sword falling in love is to write a story about transgression.

Not just in the sense that they are a demon and an angel, and it's ~forbidden. That's part of it, yeah, but the greater part of it is that they are THIS demon and angel, in particular. From The Real Bible's Book of Genesis, in the chapter where man falls.

It's the sort of thing you write and laugh. And then you look at it. And you think. And then you frown, and you sit up a little straighter. And you think.

And then you keep writing.

And what emerges hits you like a goddamn truck.

(...A lot of Pratchett reads that way. I believe Gaiman when he says Pratchett would have been happy with the romance, by the way. I really really do).

It's a story about transgression, about love as transgression. They break the rules by loving each other, by loving creation, and by rejecting the hatred and hypocrisy that would have triangulated them as a unified blow against humanity, before humanity had even really got started. And yeah, hell, it's a queer romance too, just to really drive the point home (oh, that!!! THAT!!!)

...I could spend a long time wildly gesturing at this and never be satisfied. Instead of watching me do that (I'll spare you), please look at this gif:

I love this shot so much.

Look at Eve and Crowley moving, at the same time in the same direction, towards their respective wielders of the flaming sword. Adam reaches out and takes her hand; Aziraphale reaches out and covers him with a wing.

You know what a shot like that establishes? Likeness. Commonality. Kinship.

"Our side" was never just Crowley and Aziraphale. Crowley says as much at the end of season 1 ("--all of us against all of them."). From the beginning, "our side" was Crowley, Aziraphale, and every single human being. Lately that's around 8 billion, but once upon a time it was just two other people. Another couple. The primeval mother and father.

But Adam and Eve die, eventually. Humanity grows without them. It's Crowley and Aziraphale who remain, and who protect it. Who...oversee it's upbringing.

Godfathers. Sort of.

[enchi-elm]

Inception is funny because the final heist is a wildly different experience for everyone involved.

Yusuf drives across town under gunfire and voluntarily drives off the edge of a bridge. He probably has a resting heart rate of 180 for the duration and it’s over in, say, 15 minutes.

Arthur finally gets to snap at his boss, something we get the sense he’s been wanting to do for a solid year now. He vents the rest of his frustrations on unsuspecting goons, then spends the rest of the heist quietly problem solving around his unconscious and therefore uncomplaining teammates. This is probably his preferred way of dealing with people.

Saito gets shot and dies an agonizing death for anywhere from a few minutes to about an hour. Instead of being allowed to peacefully suffer, he volunteers to lead his business rival on a mountain expedition that involves driving pitons into rock, then survives a free fall down the same mountain before holding off enemy fire with his dying breath. His reward for finally kicking the bucket is aging fifty fucking years.

Cobb literally goes through every stage of grief and dies twice. I mean he’s not my favourite but he’s certainly suffering for his art.

Ariadne is on the steepest learning curve of her life: by the end of this learning abroad experience, she’s a certified psychiatrist and also she’s shot someone.

Eames is going through every single one of his employable skills like an intern hoping to be promoted at the end of term. This includes hitting on two billionaires and firing a grenade launcher to impress a coworker. By far having the most fun.

Robert Fischer has been the CEO of a Fortune 500 company for a week. He’s been sedated, kidnapped, conned, betrayed, led mountain-climbing, shot, resuscitated, and resolves an adult life time worth of daddy issues in the time it takes to order coffee. Possibly fires his uncle when he lands for reasons he can’t explain even to himself.

[theburialofstrawberries]

"In the past, whenever the movies in Hollywood went stale and executives exerted too much control over artists, the industry had an important hand brake: the audience. If a movie bombed with audiences and box office numbers plummeted, then studios would have to change course. After all, the box office has always been viewed as the gold standard of metrics in Hollywood for a reason: it’s the most distilled and straightforward measurement of audience interest. Moviegoers must choose to buy tickets. They cannot skip around, fast-forward, or order groceries through the Prime app on their phone. No moviegoer enters a theater expecting to leave after two minutes. Until Netflix, one of cinema’s essential qualities, the thing that distinguished it from television, was the way it commanded an audience’s attention. Whether a movie grossed big numbers or bombed, a box office report carried an inadmissible truth: the vast majority of the audience experienced the movie in full, and its taste couldn’t be ignored.

How to predict the audience’s taste — what will make money and what won’t — is a question that’s plagued Hollywood since its inception. The problem was captured by the screenwriter William Goldman in 1983. “Nobody knows anything,” he wrote in his book Adventures in the Screen Trade. “Not one person in the entire motion picture field knows for a certainty what’s going to work.” Netflix’s greatest innovation was that it found a way around this uncertainty: it provided a platform on which there are no failures, where everything works.

This is an important milestone for the largest Hollywood studios as they all set their sights on integrating artificial intelligence into their productions. In March, news outlets reported that OpenAI CEO Sam Altman had held meetings with top studios to showcase his company’s text-to-video generator, Sora. Clips generated by Sora that circulated online alternated between drone shots of cityscapes that look ripped from video-game cut scenes and animals rendered in the 3D animated style common to Hollywood productions today. Streaming platforms are the only place where this garbage makes any sense — a place where it would never be watched at all.

But by insulating their films from failure, the streamers have destroyed the meaning of success. Thierry Frémaux, head of the Cannes Film Festival and a vocal critic of streamers, understood this well when he presented the dilemma at a Cannes press conference in 2021. “What directors have been discovered by [streaming] platforms?” he asked. It wasn’t a rhetorical question. Frémaux began calling on journalists to name an auteur whose career had been launched by a streamer. By this point, Netflix had released more than seven hundred films in the US alone, with hundreds of directors attached. Yet as the Guardian later reported of the scene, “nobody could name any at all, in fact.”

Here, streaming platforms have achieved a strange paradox. Never has a group of studios gained so much control over the production, distribution, exhibition, and reception of movies by making movies no one cares about or remembers. Having not only failed to discover a new generation of auteurs, the streamers have also ensured that their filmmakers are little more than precarious content creators, ineligible to share the profits of any hit. It’s a shift that has induced a profound sense of confusion."

Casual Viewing by Will Tavlin, for n+1 mag

[thechekhov]

heyo! im in the planning stages of a comic id like to make and im getting way too excited about details haha

do you have any tips on hiding easter eggs and hints in comic form? obviously its far different from doing so in more interactive media like videogames, but itd be cool to hear your thoughts :]

Oh boy! That's fun! :) I love the Planning A New Thing stage, it's always so exciting!

As for tips.... hmmm.

I suppose my tips would be different for Hints (foreshadowing?) vs Easter Eggs.

Effectively, Easter Eggs are just fun details you throw into your story that may mean more upon further inspection, but may also just be For Fun.

Traditionally they're not really tied, chronologically, to Big Reveals that happen in the future of the story.

My tip for Easter Eggs are just - do whatever you want! It's your story, so you can add whatever details you think are fun.

For example, on the soundtrack to Inception the movie, one song is "Non, je ne regrette rien", just slowed down. In the Artemis Fowl books, there's a gnomish script on the bottom of the bottom of the pages that can be decrypted into fun messages. In One Piece (which I have not read nor interacted with, sorry) there's a character called Pandaman who apparently appears in the background shots of crowds constantly. Bluey the children's show does this too - I think they hide some sort of small long dog in the background shots of each episode?

You can add small, fun things like this - things that don't disturb the overall plot but add bits of flavor for someone looking closer. Characters from your other works in large crowds! Or just small objects from your favorite media to fill you characters' room with. OR a secret third thing!

Meanwhile, foreshadowing is specifically things that hint at future plot things. I did this in WD!AU with the jar of 'locally sourced seaglass' that appears in the background of an episode while Steven and Connie discuss Steven being able to make gems.

Obviously this was before Seaglass was discovered - a whole Season prior in fact! So it was a fun bit of foreshadowing, albeit VERY vague.

For me, foreshadowing like this is basically like telling a story that I know the ending to, and muttering to myself under my breath "But little did they KNOW!" with a little grin every time I talk about another plot point.

I do want to say that foreshadowing oversaturation is also a thing. You can't possibly foreshadow EVERY SINGLE PLOTPOINT and you shouldn't have to. Just do whatever feels natural. Sometimes that, if you read it again after knowing the ending, makes you go "AHHHH THAT'S THE THING! THAT'S THE THING THEY DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT BACK THEN, BUT I KNOW IT NOW!"

Basically, my tip is to pretend to be a huge fan of your own story - and ask yourself what you'd love to find when reading for the 2nd, 3rd time.

[duckietiewritestoo]

In the Bleak Midwinter (Various Cillian Murphy Characters MASTERLIST)

I’ll Be Waiting (Thomas Shelby x Time Traveler! Reader)

Not My Problem (Jonathan Crane x Doctor! Reader)

To the Moon and Back (Kitten Braden x Reader)

Stressed Out (Robert Fischer x Reader)

Told You (J. R. Oppenheimer x Reader)

Until I Found You (William Killick x Reader)

Wishing (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

Jerk (Neil Lewis x Reader)

[firemenenthusiast]

i don’t really care what you’re doing, as long as you’re not picturing cillian murphy cradling his son when he was a baby in the middle of the night groggily, everything should be fine

[cillianhead]

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)

[coffin-ramblings]

We've got a post from Nemlei on TCOAAL's origins! Which is very sweet and poetic given last December was when she went off the internet. First will be the preview pics.

It's interesting how the moon has been a sorta background recurring motif in the game. Stars are most obviously associated with Ashley, Saturn the planet references the myth of him and the Olympians and the story of the Graves, but where does that leave the moon? It was also found in NGN above Lord Unknown's cradle, in between the stars that obviously represent Andrew and Ashley.

Maybe it being crescent shaped can mean that it's going to fade into obscurity or become a full moon, a reference to the route split? Maybe it represents their baby??? (which is another post for this crackhead theory)

When I first saw this, I thought Andrew was mad, but nope, it turns out that he's sad. I wonder why. It might be that lighthouse Ashley was stuck in with no stairs given that it's a different color and background from the one in October devlog. It might be the same one but changed across the scene. Who knows? I wonder what Andrew's thinking about here.

Someone pointed out to me that Ashley's smiling here. Is this before a climax, part of the falling action, or part of the epilogue? If so, does this suggest they are happier in the demon realm? Does that mean they become demons???

Also this is cute, I sure hope it's not a dream or daydream. Hopefully part of them sitting at the lighthouse?

Anyway, it's great to see Nemlei talk about the inception of the game. It's funny how Ashley was intended to be a silent protagonist, that is VERY opposite to how she turned out to be. I also really like how the game was made on a prompt of having gameplay, because it really enhances the horror. Nemlei did a good job there.

And their concept sketch is cute, I like it a lot.

Apparently, the plot, Andrew, and Ashley wrote themselves, I guess that meant that they really wanted to get it on with each other fast. And yeah, that last sentence is a fucking mood. I have way too many cool ideas but I can't write them all or writing them will kill me, so I just leave them rotting in docs and friends' DMs. And apparently Nemlei has an interest exploring her other one-shot VNs? Hopefully we get a follow-up to them all, especially Candy Scabs. But it's strange how Nemlei doesn't really talk about Jack in a Castle though. Perhaps she felt embarrassed by its quality?

This is overall an informative and oddly sweet post. Even though Nemlei is indeed a frustrating troll, she is a very cool and hilarious one. Happy holidays and I wish her a good new year.