#mr. murphy
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
bughead-in-the-comics · 2 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
From The Real Thing, Everything's Archie #141 (1989).
12 notes · View notes
newwavesylviaplath · 6 months ago
Text
so i actually need to suck his soul out of his body via using his dick as a straw
Tumblr media Tumblr media
804 notes · View notes
ilovetoxicfictionalmen · 1 month ago
Text
MR. AND MRS. SMITH RIPPNER
KINKTOBER DAY 9 - MR AND MRS SMITH AU WITH JACKSON RIPPNER
Tumblr media
Pairing.| Jackson Rippner x fem!reader
Summary.| You live a double life, but you’re willing to give it all up to devote yourself to your husband. With one final mission, you learn that your marriage is based on a lie.
Warnings.| Dubcon, noncon, manipulation, physical fighting, blood, blackmail, bondage, choking, breeding, head f!receiving, p in v.
Word count.| 7.6k
Notes.| This story KILLED ME. It was not intended to be this long and kinda angsty? Will probably make more sense if you've seen the movie. Idk kinda hate it but that's okay.
Tumblr media
The warm sun caressed your skin through the open blinds. The birds were tweeting outside at how much of a beautiful morning it was. However, those peaceful sounds were drowned out, your ears too busy being filled with your husband’s lovely loud moans. With your naked bodies tangled in the sheets, the both of you blissfully cried out in unison, your body pinned underneath his as his hips snapped in and out. As you tug at his roots, you screamed out in ecstasy, your hips rocked against his as you rode out your orgasm. Your husband followed shortly after, finishing deep inside of you. Quickly your bodies stilled, his head buried into the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent. 
“I don’t want you to leave…” you giggled, holding tightly onto your husband with your legs wrapped around his waist, his cock was gradually softening inside of you. 
Your husband groaned out softly, he kissed your skin ever so tenderly. How you wished you could stay in bed with him for eternity. Whilst massaging his scalp, he sluggishly raised his head as he puffed out. 
“I know baby, I don’t want to leave either” he agreed sweetly as he pressed his lips against your heated forehead. 
Your bodies were entwined together like snakes. It almost seemed too easy for you to be able to flip him onto his back. He huffed out as you straddled him, your drippy bare region rubbed against his member in a teasing manner. As he chuckled out, he felt himself twitch ever so slightly. He took your head into his hands. 
“How long will you be gone for again?” you asked softly. 
Both of you knew you knew the answer to that. Sometimes you just thought that if you repeated the same questions over again he’d change his answer to satisfy you. Considering how often you both traveled, the distance felt hard at times. When one of you was walking in the door, the other was heading out. 
“Five days at most” he whispered. 
He gave you a reassuring kiss. It wasn’t too explicit or plain. His touch was all you ever needed to relieve your dreadful thoughts. Five days wasn’t that long. You’re complaining as if you don’t already have a job to do in between his trip. But you would forever hate to see him leave. 
“I suppose I can handle that” you murmured as a grin grew on your lips. 
“When I get back, I’ll take you out to our favorite little restaurant” he hummed as he left a trail of kisses over your heated face, his hands caressed around your neck. 
“Yes, John” you sighed. 
John stilled, his blue eyes narrowed at you, while the grip on your cheeks tightened. You couldn’t help but to smirk mischiefly. 
“Hey” he warned softly. 
“What?” you laughed. 
“You know I don’t like being called that” John mumbled. 
“What? Your name?” you taunted in a joking manner. 
“Yes” he huffed. 
As soon as you used nicknames like honey, sugar, sweetie pie even… John insisted that you stick to it. He’s always claimed that John was such a common, plain, boring name. It was his belief that his parents named him that to spite him. It felt a bit dramatic, but you kept your mouth shut and kept him happy by calling him a variety of sweet names, however honey just always felt most fitting.
“You’re so theatrical” you snickered.
“It makes me feel like you’re mad at me” John almost talked under his breath.
Sometimes he acted like such a child, you rolled your eyes and rubbed the back of his neck in a reassuring manner. “Okay honey, is that better?” you slightly mocked. John hummed as he kissed you on the lips. 
“What are you going to get up to?” he asked, his face blank but eyes eager to know. 
“Oh I don’t know… House duties I suppose” you lied perfectly. John blinked coldly to you, but the expression quickly vanished as he smiled and planted another soft kiss on your lips. “I’ve been thinking…” you trailed, debating the topic on your hesitant mind.
John’s brows frowned in curiosity underneath his loose locks of chestnut hair as he shifted his hips into a more comfortable position. “About?” He inquired eagerly, head tilted like a cute dog. 
You sighed out, your fingertips ran over his bare chest, John exhaled in relaxation as his eyes studied yours. The silence was short yet impactful. 
“This house is so big” you pointed out, the implication rested on the tip of your tongue. 
“Do you want to downsize?” John tilted his head in confusion. 
The both of you loved this suburban home. There were plenty of spare bedrooms for guests, as if either of you had visitors lining up. Neither of you had much family, the only relationships you shared were the fake ones with your wealthy neighbors, always engaging in their social gatherings to keep up appearances. Thou shalt love their neighbor. 
But with every month that passed of you living here, the more your neighbors seemed to pressure you into having a baby. Most of them were on to their second or third. The ladies would always warn you that the honeymoon stage wouldn’t last forever, so you might as well create your love child before you both despise one another. 
“I was thinking of bringing another in” you said unsurely, unable to keep eye contact with him for once. 
“Like a dog?” John asked softly. But when he noticed your anxious expression, he sighed lowly.  “Oh…” he gulped lightly, eyes widened. 
“Yeah” you mumbled, you brushed his chestnut locks to the side. 
“But I thought we discussed this before we got married” John commented, a neutral, calm expression painted over as he gently rubbed your lower back.
“I know, I know… But I’ve been thinking about it for some reason” you answered as you smiled hopefully at him. 
“We can discuss that possibility better when I get back, yeah?” John reassured you. “But yeah maybe, the idea of filling our home with a baby just may be fulfilling. A baby Smith… Maybe you wouldn’t have to travel so much?” John cocked a brow, a gleeful look on his face. 
“Likewise to you” you snickered as you smacked his chest gently. 
“Wow, I plan one business trip after months of being locked up here and now you blame me” John joked, he pulled your face closer to his. 
“You were gone for weeks on end” you huffed. 
“Six weeks isn’t that long, is it?” Jackson snorted, a mischief grin locked on. 
You kissed him, his arms wrapped around your back as his hips pushed up to yours. The friction built up in you both, again. Sometimes you wondered if you’d reverted back into a teenager, you never seemed to have this high of a sex drive until you met him. John’s length was like a forbidden fruit that you were addicted to. 
“Come on, join me in the shower” he ordered kindly, his baby blue eyes sparkling. 
“I need to cook you breakfast” you objected with a cheeky grin. 
“I’ll eat at the terminal” John grinned back, his newly formed erection pressed against your bare skin. 
As you arrived at the drop off zone - because John always insisted you never wasted time and money to walk him to security- you kissed him passionately before he quickly exited the vehicle and grabbed his small suitcase from the backseat. 
“I love you” John smiled. 
“I love you too” you smiled back. 
John shut the door, took a step back and blew you a kiss as you drove away. Once he disappeared from your rear mirror, you changed the radio station and slipped off your ring. Likewise to your flash SUV vanishing, his gleeful smile formed into a sinister stern glare. 
Whenever you were away from John, your double life crashed on top of you. They always warned you, this job was a deadly commitment. No one could make it work with the white picket fence with a sniper underneath your bed. Before you met John, you loved being an assassin. It gave you a constant rush of adrenaline that no other drug could. But the moment you met him, you could feel the switch begin to flick over. 
It was almost a suffocating burden to be married to John Smith. Yet, his love felt like a drug. Don't get it wrong, John was a terrific husband. If you were having a gloomy day, he’d come home with your favorite ice cream and a new rental for you both to watch that night. Date nights were always over the top with him. Even though you both traveled frequently, you always managed to squeeze in a romantic getaway every now and again. Puerto Rico was the next spot on your list, but he didn’t know that. For John burns, not tans.  
The thought of retiring grew larger inside of you by the day. You could easily fake your job experience for a more conventional profession. You wanted to be honest with John, this profession just wasn’t it. Sure, the pay was great, benefits were out of this world. But it was always so time consuming and moral reckoning. Not to mention your life was always at risk. Every mission you took, the more you worried for John. What if something did happen to you, how would he cope? Even worse, what if something happened to him? You've hidden him from your workplace, but what if. 
John Smith was charismatic, confident and intelligent. There wasn’t a day that you’d catch him in a faded pair of sweatpants and an oversized shirt, he always dressed proper. He’d always be able to read the room, it was impressive with how easily he could mingle into the conversation, as if he was the one that started it. It felt like he knew you completely from day one. John Smith was mesmerizing, alluring and fulfilling. He was the fantasy you never knew you craved. 
You sighed as you arrived at your headquarters. The elevator ride up was dreadful as you could only think of him. The doors dinged open, you blinked back your swelling eyes as you waltzed through. Your second identity quickly painted across your expression as you approached your desk. As you plopped at your seat, you opened up your resignation file, your fingers nervously tapped on the wood as you considered everything. Your finger hovered over the print button. With a firm push, the printer roared to life. After neatly laying it on your desk, you opened up your mission report once more and scanned over your next and last target. 
‘Jackson Rippner’
The missions were all the same, always to terminate bad, horrible men that polluted the world. You liked to tell yourself that you were more of a vigilante than a cold blooded killer, that your jobs were somewhat for the greater good. But who were you to think that you were any better. This was no justice system, nobody would learn. Maybe you were wrong about this whole baby idea, how could you raise a child knowing you’ve killed many others? Especially with a beautiful man like your husband. 
But this was the last one, you had to keep on telling yourself that. It would all work out, you’ve done your time as one of their soldiers. It was time to live a normal life.
Quickly, you slipped your handheld mirror from your purse and applied one final layer of gloss. As the elevator dinged open, your stiletto boots went silent on the carpet flooring. The rough security guard stood in front of the room entrance, his thick arms crossed over his broad chest. With him looking you up and down, you batted your lashes as he started to pat you down over your coat. He tried to untie the coat but you swatted his hands away, glaring harshly at him. The guard huffed at you and checked your handbag, the handcuffs dangled from his thick finger. All you could do was shrug at him. After three slow knocks, the guard let you in.  
The room was decorated in a seductive red. You strolled carelessly, your thighs crossed over one another as you pretended not to notice your target in the corner of the room. Jackson smirked at you in his hotel provided fluffy white robe, his blonde hair slicked back as he twirled his whiskey on rocks. He stalked over to you, his tongue rolled over his lips. As your eyes lingered over to the closed bathroom, you stepped towards it, but he stopped you by raising his hand.
“I just wanted to freshen up” you batted your lashes, tone soft. 
“No, no, you look perfect” he gave you a toothy grin. 
You resisted your impulsive huff. The handbag is dropped onto the cabinet as you slowly untie your coat, revealing your shiny, leather, exposing catsuit that made your tits look perfect. The knee high boots tease at the limitation of the skin of your thighs. You unclasped your claw clip, your luscious hair fell onto your shoulders. 
“Mr Rippner” you purred, your hands dipped into your bag for the cuffs.
His dark eyes ate you up completely, his mouth almost drooling at your beauty. As you approached him, you unrobed him, revealing his toned muscular tan body. With a seductive smirk, you pushed him to his knees and quickly and certainly tightly, cuffed his hands behind his back. You teased him by tugging at the roots of his blonde hair. 
“Are you a naughty boy, Jackson?” you whispered as you squatted in front of him. 
“Mhm-hmmm” he hummed, his eyes piercing into yours. 
“Do you know what happens to naughty boys?” you murmured, your lips inching from his. All he wanted to do was kiss you. 
“No” he whispered back. 
You stood up and slipped behind him, your hands ran up and down his broad back, your lips pressed to his ear. “They die” you whispered darkly. 
Before he could even react, your arms locked around his head and you effortlessly snapped his neck. To stop him from thumping to the ground, you held onto hair, carefully laying him on the soft carpet. You exhaled out and stood up, you picked your phone from your bag and sent the confirmation text to your boss. You then slipped your wedding ring back onto your finger, you hated having it off. 
“Damn baby, you’re such a sexy killer” the voice of your husband echoed behind you. 
Your body spun around towards the bathroom, you stared at him like a deer caught in headlights. This wasn’t possible, how was he here? You stumbled back and blinked hard, expecting this all to be a guilty figment of your imagination. He was wearing one of his ordinary suits as he smirked devilishly as per usual. 
“John” you gasped. 
“I really thought you were gonna kiss him for a second” your husband tutted, his eyes full of mischief as he approached you. 
You were frozen in place. Every thought in your mind bounced at a high speed, you couldn’t grasp onto anything. All you could do was murmur his name again as he closed the distance. 
“Baby, how many times do I have to tell you I hate it when you call me that?” John lectured teasingly. As he tried to wrap his arms around you lovingly, you shoved him back. 
“What is going on?” you hissed like a viper. Then, it all clicked, all of the pieces fell perfectly into place. Your eyes darted from the dead man on the floor back up to him. “You’re Jackson Rippner” you mumbled, your expression drained in shock and defeat. 
“...Yes…” Jackson answered, his eyes widened for a second as he tried to hide the grin off of his lips.
“Who’s that guy?” you questioned. 
Both of your eyes drifted to the carpet but returned back to one another. 
“My decoy, obviously” Jackson shrugged carelessly. 
“I-I don’t understand” you stammered, trying to keep your emotions on track. Jackson rubbed your arms to comfort you, stupidly you allowed it. “But- But I had your profile checked” you argued, shaking your head at this situation. This possibility wasn’t, well… it wasn’t possible. 
“I’m a great ghost baby” Jackson gloated. 
When you fell silent, pouting a lot harder than you realized, Jackson pouted back. He hugged you tightly, his lips pressed to your heated cheek. 
“John!” you gasped, you tried to push him off but he wouldn’t budge. 
“Baby, my name isn’t John!” Jackson chuckled, his lips continuing to kiss your skin. “It’s Jackson…” he whispered somewhat flirtatiously. 
Jackson was soft with his words, but a brute with his actions. He held you against his chest as you squirmed like a fish out of water. It was amusing for him, watching you get all overwhelmed over a little detail. 
“Baby… I have it all planned out, okay? I need you to trust me” Jackson spoke a lot more firmly this time. Your eyes pointed up to his. 
“John-”
“It’s Jackson!” he snapped, his words hissing in anger. You flinched and blinked hard, your lower lip began to wobble. The hold he had on you tightened shortly. He exhaled out and loosened his grip. “Anyways, you killed my decoy, they’ll think Jackson Rippner is dead. And I’ll happily stay in the shadows far away from your work so we can continue playing happy husband and wife” Jackson proposed, a gleeful expression locked on. 
The seriousness in his eyes was frightening. “Jackson, you’re scaring me” you gulped.
“I know, fuck- I know how much this can be for you” he sympathised in a highly condescending tone, his head tilted down to yours. “It certainly does change things…” he mumbled lightly. “But baby, you can’t judge me. We work in the same profession” he chuckled, hoping to bring light to this. 
“You’ve known all along, haven’t you?” you whispered, eyes turning all glossy.
“Of course I did” Jackson snorted. 
“Who are you?” you dared to ask. 
Jackson stared at you blankly, analyzing every single sign you were throwing at him. He breathed out and let go of you, he turned his heel and walked towards the mini bar. “Let me get you a drink first, okay? You’re currently in shock, you need to calm down a little bit first” he clicked his tongue. 
You watched his back as he pulled out two glasses. He opened the whiskey bottle and filled them, sneakily sprinkling the small plastic bag of powder into your glass. Returning to you, his expression was blank as he held out your glass. Reluctantly, you took it, you stared at the liquor. Jackson downed his glass, placed it down next to your handbag and cocked an eyebrow at you, his foot impatiently tapped on the carpet. For someone who was supposedly stalking you, he was stupid enough to think you were an idiot. Your face scrunched in anger, before Jackson could react, you splashed the drink on his face. 
“Baby!” Jackson spat the liquor off of his lips. 
You punched him in the nose, he stumbled back and snarled out. Reactively, he tried to swing at you but missed as you leaned your upper body back. You swiped his feet and he crashed onto the floor. Repeatedly, you kicked him in the stomach until he latched onto your calf and yanked your leg up into the air. You fell onto the carpet with him. 
The door swung open and you leaped into the bathroom as shots were fired in your direction. You pushed your body weight to the door and you could hear Jackson screaming at his guy. 
“Don’t fucking shoot her!” Jackson roared, a vein popped out of his forehead. “Give me the fucking gun and get out!” he commanded.
The silencer was on, meaning hotel security wouldn’t be paying you a visit anytime soon. You needed your damn handbag to get out of here. Running your hand through your hair, you tried to summon up your game plan. Adrenaline ran through your blood as you heard the door shut once more. 
“Baby… Come out and let’s talk” Jackson projected kindly as he approached the door. He emptied the gun and dropped it to the ground, ensuring that you’d hear it. “I don’t want to fight with you, okay? Come on, let’s be civil with one another before somebody gets hurt” Jackson attempted to convince you, that familiar persuading tone on his tongue. . 
He was right, somebody would certainly get hurt and you’d be damned if it was you. You cursed to yourself, stood up, brushed yourself down and opened the door. That non wipeable grin was on his lips as he stared you up and down. His devilish blue eyes locked onto your band. 
“Put it on already, huh?” Jackson murmured, his hand dared to reach out to you. 
You smacked his hand away, swiftly twisting his arm around, he grunted out as you kneed him in the stomach. He is charged into the wall by you, you repetitively throw blow after blow into him. Jackson tried to counter you, but failed miserably as you smacked his head into the plaster. 
“I’m going to slice you to pieces” you threatened, your rage uncontrollable. “You fucking cunt!” you screamed as you threw him into the side of the bed. 
As you stomped towards him, Jackson hurried to his feet and pulled out the blade from his jacket pocket. The tip is pointed directly at you as his fingers rubbed over his cut lip. 
“You fucking bitch” he snarled but had this crazed smirk on his lips. 
This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fought at a disadvantage. So you courageously raised your fists at your husband. Jackson laughed smugly and called out for his guard. You scoffed, picked up Jackson’s empty glass and hurled it at the man as soon as he entered the room. The glass scattered over his skull and he tumbled to the ground. Jackson cursed loudly as you reached for your handbag and coat before you flew out of the room. 
You ran across the terrace as you swiftly slipped your coat on, Jackson was hot on your tail as easily unclasped one of the rings from the bag, a metal rope connected to it. You clicked the ring onto the lamp post, held onto the other handle of the bag and dived off the balcony. The rope protracted down the high rise building, the drop slowed down as you watched the sidewalk grow closer. As your boots clinked onto the cement and hand let go of the handle, you hailed the next taxi, not giving a damn who stared you down. As you sat in the back and the adrenaline drained from your blood, you broke down into tears as you ripped off your wedding ring. 
Jackson heaved as he planted his hands on the cement edge. A grin formed on his lips as he watched you gracefully fall. He couldn’t help but to be proud as you shrunk smaller and smaller. You go into the next taxi and disappear into the concrete jungle. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and held it to his ear.
“Yeah, commence through. Kill them all” Jackson sighed.  
-
The truth was, you were originally Jackson’s target. Your firm had information his desperately needed. The security on your system was too good for his team to hack, he needed access from the inside. As soon as Jackson saw your profile, he felt some kind of draw towards you. As he stalked you, this attraction quickly turned into an obsession. His patience thinned every week, he craved some taste of you. 
When you booked a last minute red eye flight, he jumped at the opportunity. He was surprised with how easily he caught your attention, you seemed to crave it just as badly as him. It would be your downfall without even knowing it. You could almost have him fooled, you didn’t seem like a killer, you had morals, ethics, care in the world. Everything he didn’t possess. You silently screamed for domestic life, but you just didn’t know it yet. Before the plane landed, Jackson realized that there was no possible way he’d be able to fire the gun once the job was over. 
When he took you on your first date, he expected to fuck you, not to make love. My, he knew how cheesy it sounded, but it was a sleepless night of passion and sensuality. Jackson had never felt more emotionally, physically and spiritually raw and intense. It was like he had an outer body experience that night. He could have sworn he felt the exact moment that he fell completely in love with you. You craved him too, felt the exact same thoughts he did. It was like you were both one that night. Now Jackson was never a romantic, but he knew he’d marry you when the sun rose in the morning.  
You quickly turned sloppy around him, you really thought he was as innocent as he looked. Jackson accessed your system so effortlessly. It really was a pie waiting to be taken. He partially felt bad betraying you, but it was better than eliminating you. As if to reward him for his hard, continuous efforts, you fucked him that night until he saw pure bliss. 
He covered his tracks perfectly, you were robbed blind. There were no leads, no suspicions, nothing. He saw it in your eyes the next time he saw you. Jackson’s heart fluttered, you were in the shitter and you wanted him to be your shoulder to cry on. Not that any physical tears were shredded that day. But Jackson comforted you, held you as you both talked sweet nothings to one another. You told him you loved him that night, he felt no shame in returning those blissful words. That night, you truly believed everything would be better. That Jackson was your silver lining. 
The porch lights were still on even though it was past midnight. As Jackson’s Mercedes pulled up the driveway, he took in the last moment of silence, peace. A devilish smirk grew on his lips as he casually got out of the car and almost skipped to the door. It was risky, you could have eliminated him at any moment, but Jackson knew you, a public execution was not your style. 
You had no other option than to come here. Jackson had annihilated your firm before you could bring yourself to contact them. All agents were now dead one way or another, your director included. This reckoning was all due to you. Jackson Rippner was the virus in the system. It felt like you were in the fallback scene of a spy film. This was now a suicide mission, all from your stupid blindness of love. Why did you always have to trust him? You should have listened to your instinct and kept someone on his tail whenever you were gone. 
“Honey! I’m home!” Jackson called out as he viciously slammed the door shut.
The interior was dead silent, he knew you were somewhere, hidden in the dark as you awaited the perfect moment to attack. Checking the hidden security cameras would be too easy for him. Jackson wanted a challenge. The masculinity inside of him demanded to show you your place, as a woman and a devoted wife. 
Jackson flicked on the dim lights, he slid the pistol out from his hostler as he cautiously stepped over the oakwood floor. His footsteps were light as a feather as he almost hovered over the ground. When he reached the turntable, he chucked on one of your favorite jazz records and turned up the volume through the amplifier. His chestnut hair shagged over his forehead, he could sense you, because the pungent perfume you always wore filled his smell. 
“Babygirl… Come out, let’s play!” Jackson grinned as he picked up a photo frame down the hallway.
He pressed his back against the plaster, the winder staircase on the opposite side of the wall. His face pointed towards the edge as held the photo of the two of you towards the stairs, the glass’ reflection painted the staircase on the glass as you came into sight. You aimed the shotgun in your hand as you squatted in the midpoint of the staircase, your barrel pointed right to the edge of the wall. The frame was shot to pieces as he hissed out. 
“Careful honey, I don’t want to shoot you” you spat, tone dripping with deception.
“Oh no, no more pet names, I only want to hear my proper name off of your lips!” Jackson laughed. 
Intuitively, Jackson dropped down as you shot straight through the wall. Another shot was fired for goodluck, the dust and darkness blinded your vision, the moonlight and dim lights wasn't enough. Jackson groaned out dramatically as he dropped his pistol, an inch from hands reach as he plummeted to the floor. You gasped as his head came into view, you lowered the shotgun as you slowly stepped down. 
His left eye peaked open as he saw you off guard. Swiftly, he picked up the pistol and fired in your direction. You grunted as you hurried back up the stairs, firing a few shots for good measure. But when Jackson’s magazine ran out, you jumped at the opportunity to attack. He strode down the hallway, his face content as blasts splattered through the walls just short of him. Turning the corner, Jackson reloaded and took the next right to do a complete circle around the floor.
But you bet him to it, your knees sliding on the floor as you fired in his direction. Unfortunately you missed your target. Grunting to yourself, you reloaded and spun into the open. The coast was clear, you stood silently, the barrel switching from every possible open exit. Your brows furrowed when you saw his pistol slide over towards you. 
“Come on now, guns are overrated baby! Take your anger out on me a bit more passionately” Jackson called out. 
Silently, you followed the sound of his voice. As you sharply turned the corner, the room was empty and you muttered soundlessly. 
“You think I’m an idiot!” you shouted back. 
“Kinda, given the fact that I’ve had you wrapped around my finger this whole time!” he bellowed. 
The urge to prove him wrong, to get your revenge the righteous way took over. You emptied the shotgun and threw it to the floor. You pulled the bullet off of your black midi dress.
“Come out then baby, give me your best shot!” you mocked. 
“Gladly” Jackson smirked as he turned the corner and leant against the hallway wall. 
Cracking your neck and rolling your shoulders back, you brought up your fists and strided towards him. With a wicked grin, Jackson slid off his jacket and carelessly raised his own fists. The first punch you threw had your full force. But Jackson ducked and jabbed into your knee. You winced and kicked into him with your free leg. Jackson wrapped his arms around your lower body and forced you to the floor. 
“How could I be so stupid” you whimpered softly as Jackson tried to pin you down. 
“Because you’re in love with me baby” he smirked, his ego so full you almost felt it drip onto you. 
Your hand slipped free, you punched him in the jaw. Jackson groaned out, his mind dazed momentarily, you shoved him off of you. With a shake of his chestnut hair, Jackson chased after you. Ending up in the kitchen, you picked up multiple objects and flung them in his direction. Jackson managed to dodge most. As your hand wrapped around the expensive fine china vase Jackson adored, his eyes widened. 
“Now! Don’t throw that!” he ordered as he shoved his finger at you. 
Scoffing towards him, you hurled it towards his head, he had no other option than to duck. The material shattered against the wall. Jackson’s head snapped back, his blue eyes wide as he stared at the red pieces scattered over the floor. Snapping his eyes back onto you, he gave you a smug look. 
“You really are a petty bitch, ain’t you baby?” Jackson scolded. 
“Don’t call me that” you huffed. 
“Baby” Jackson pouted.
A wave of anger crashed over you, you flew over the island in the middle of the kitchen and crashed into him. The both of you threw jab after jab, kick after kick. Your nails dug into his skin and Jackson hissed out harshly. You’re banged up into the fridge, the back of your head making first contact. 
“You lied to me” you mumbled as Jackson held you against the fridge. 
Jackson pointed a finger at you. “Shut it… You lied to me just as badly” he countered. 
The denial was planted deep in his mind. In his justification, you were both as bad as each other, you both lied and deceived one another. Despite him always knowing, the ignorance was bliss for as long as it had lasted. 
“You used me!” you yelled. 
Jackson rolled his eyes as you flipped his back onto the fridge. 
“I know, but does it make you feel any better if I say that I was supposed to kill you initially?” Jackson chuckled softly. 
You slapped him across the cheek and let go, your chest heavy as you tried to keep your overwhelming thoughts at bay. Jackson hated to see you cry, to see any negative emotion in you. You were his to protect, to look after, he hated how badly the truth was hurting you. You could handle the physicality, but not this, not those dark emotions that no one can train you to block out. Jackson reached out for your hand. 
“Don’t touch me like that” you warned. 
“Baby, let’s talk” Jackson urged as he tried to touch you again. 
It snapped inside of you, you opened one of the drawers and pulled out the first knife you could wrap your hand around. The blade is pressed against Jackson’s throat, his jaw clenched as he glared at you. The edge of the bench dug into his lower back, his hands clawed down beside him. 
“I’ll fucking kill you!” you threatened, your body trembling immensely. 
“Do it baby, rip my heart out” Jackson grinned. “It’s not like you’d make it out of the fucking door, they’re watching us…” Jackson snorted, his eyes flickered towards the window. As you looked out, you saw the red laser flicking through the darkness, right onto your forehead. “Til death do us part” he whispered into your ear. 
“I don’t care if I die” you whispered back, accepting your fate. 
“Sure, but I bet you would if your sister did, yeah? Oh but you had no siblings didn’t you? Yet my accomplice reports that she’s alive and well in Tampa, now isn’t she?” Jackson spoke casually. 
Your eyes snapped onto him, eye twitching. It was impossible for him to know that, you’d hidden it so perfectly. Impulsively, you attempted to drive the knife through his hand on the counter. But Jackson slipped out, the knife clanked against the marble, you hissed out, your grip loose. Easily, he stole the knife from you and pointed it at you. You were stumbling back as he followed you. 
“Do anything to me, and I assure you, she’ll be dead before you can reach her” Jackson spat. 
It angered you, you should be fighting him to the death. Trying to rip his skull in half. But all he needed was a little threat to keep you at bay. You found yourself climbing the stairs, ignoring him completely as he stalked you. 
“Where are you going baby?” Jackson mocked arrogantly. 
As you reached the second floor, Jackson flung your body to the wall, his hand slipped around your neck, a gentle warning squeeze followed. Your glossy eyes snapped onto him, a dirty glare painted your beautiful face. 
“Don’t act like this. You made vows to me, remember?” Jackson reminded you harshly. 
As if vows were meant to mean anything at this point. You could counter him with plenty of his own vows. It made you sick in the stomach with his attempts of manipulation. He was sick in the head with some foul disease.  
“I don’t know who you are, you disgust me” you insulted. 
“Well… Get over it” Jackson shrugged his shoulders. 
“You’re pathetic Jackson. What makes you possibly think I could forgive you, love you? You’re an insecure little boy who can’t take no for an answer” you cruely countered. 
Jackson’s expression was blank and dark. As if all humanity drained from his body, he flung you backwards. Before you could even process it, you felt your back hit the thick edges of the stairs. You tumbled down, hitting your head intensely multiple times as you rolled to the floor. A slow groan escaped your lips, you whined out as you tried to focus. But your mind was dazed, your body felt numb and your eyes blurred. Within a blink, Jackson appeared beside you, how long were you out for?
“You okay?” Jackson whispered as he kneeled down beside you. His tone was full of concern and care. You mumbled out gibberish and Jackson chuckled, gently he caressed your heated cheek. “Come on then, let’s get you to bed” Jackson breathed out. 
Easily, he threw your body over his shoulders and carefully headed up the stairs. Beelining straight to the bedroom, Jackson flicked on the lights and thoughtlessly dropped your limp body onto the bed. You bounced on the soft mattress, your eyes squinted as you tried to piece everything back together. Putting up a small helpless struggle, Jackson stripped you bare. He texted his men to stand down and closed the blinds. The sound of the wooden draw pulling out caught your attention, but you couldn’t decipher what Jackson was grabbing. 
“Up for some kinky shit baby?” Jackson smirked snugly as he held up the rope. 
“Fuck off” you groaned as you tried to crawl off the bed. 
But Jackson straddled your hips and roughly pulled your wrist to the bed frame. After tightly binding you to the bed, you squirmed like a dying fish out of water. Jackson leant down to your ear, his warm lips pressed to your lobe as he inhaled your scent.
“I don’t wanna hurt you anymore baby” Jackson made known. “Don’t make me do it anymore, it hurts me too” he said through a soft tone. 
“Then untie me” you grumbled. 
“No, no… I need you baby, so badly” Jackson moaned lightly as he pressed his clear hard onto your stomach.
Your eyes widened, how long had he been erect for? How was physical combat a major turn on for him? Surely he’d never take advantage of you in this sense. Jackson was always a gentleman, kind, and thoughtful. Never would he pressure you into something that you had to consider. But yet again, this was Jackson, you didn’t know Jackson, you only ever knew John. 
“Jackson, don’t do this to me” your lip wobbled, eyes heavy. 
The pounding headache didn’t help. Hopelessly, you tugged at your binds, Jackson smirked darkly at the sight. The soft touch he always gave you made your legs squirmed. He’d only be rough with you if you wanted it that way, you prayed he’d stick to that. 
“Shush, you’re gonna have to comply with me baby. I know everything about you, every single person you’ve ever even smiled at, I will have killed if you continue to piss me off. You've sacrificed enough for your job, so surely you can still sacrifice a little bit for me” he grinned. You opened your mouth to counter, but Jackson was quick to press his finger to your lips and hush you. “I know I’ve lied to you from the beginning, but you have to know that I’ve always loved you” Jackson spoke truthfully, rawly.
It felt like a rip to the heart, because you knew his words were honest. That look in his eyes was too hard to stare at. No, this doesn’t change anything. Jackson was a horrible person, you were not the same as him no matter how badly he tried to persuade you. 
“You took advantage of me” you huffed, blinking back your tears.
“I know, I’m sorry” Jackson exhaled, almost looking guilty at his actions. “Baby, we’re not normal people, you can’t possibly hold this against me. Now, you can go around and think that what I did was unforgivable. But can’t you just be happy that you are completely accepted by somebody? No one will ever love you the way I do. What we have is real, you’re mine and I’m yours, always” Jackson confessed. 
All you could do was laugh weakly. The insanity of this man was wild. The sweet look on his face dropped. 
“You’re fucking crazy” you insulted. 
“Don’t piss me off” Jackson said coldly. A stare off commenced, slowly a grin grew on Jackson’s lips. “You want a job with me? I can get you in easily” Jackson laughed softly.
“I was going to quit for you” you snarled. 
“Made it easier for you then” Jackson shrugged. 
His eyes lowered to your stomach. Instantly, you knew exactly what he was thinking. Your body tensed as his hand traveled closer to your bare skin. You flinched as his fingertips rolled over your hardened nipples firstly. 
“Now, let's talk about that baby” Jackson licked his lips, his hand pressed to your stomach. You were speechless, shocked that he could think of this still. “A baby Rippner, now doesn’t that just sound fitting?” Jackson sniggered with a smug mouth. 
Slowly, he stripped himself bare over you. All you could do was watch in a mixture of fear, intimidation and arousal. His body was always so perfect in your eyes. You hated how badly you subconsciously submitted to him. As your skull thrummed, you squeezed your eyes shut. All you wanted to do was stop thinking completely. 
Jackson whispered your name as he pressed his lips to your neck. It was soft, everything he was doing was so fucking perfect. The way his hands rubbed your trembling skin, how the top of his head rubbed against the side of your face. Those sweet whispers of his made you squirm, the pleasurable ache in your core tormented you. 
His hands squeezed your tits, as he gradually lowered himself to your cunt. Sometimes Jackson wished that he could die by suffocation from in between your legs. The smell of your musk was intoxicating. You whined, your mouth clamped shut. Everything was hurting you, breaking you, yet your body demanded to accept the pleasure all too easily. 
“Yeah, gonna put a fucking baby in you alright. All fucking mine, fuck you’re so perfect, I love you so fucking much baby” Jackson praised, his fingers rolled over your sensitive flesh as he admired you. 
This was too much to handle. You broke down in tears as your body trembled from a mixture of reactions. Quickly and carefully, Jackson climbed up your body, his lips pressed to the side of your mouth. 
“Hey, hey, you’re okay baby… I’ll look after you, always. You just gotta give me a shot, I’m still John… Still the man you married” he assured quietly as he tried to wipe your tears away. 
“Jackson- please” you sobbed. 
“Shush, I’m always going to take care of you. I made vows to you, I refuse to break my word” Jackson spoke more firmly this time.  
“Jackson” you whispered as he aligned his tip to your entrance.
“My name sounds so beautiful on your lips baby, keep on saying it” Jackson softly ordered. 
After whimpering his name one more time, he crashed his lips against yours. Your mouth fell open, you were too tired to fight him anymore. His eager member slipped deep into your welcoming walls. The pleasure was too relaxing for your state. You were losing consciousness. All you wanted to do was sleep, it was the quickest way you could get away from him, even though it was only temporarily. 
“No, no, stay with me. Keep your eyes open, you’re fine” Jackson commanded. 
When you didn’t listen to him, mumbling and whimpering to yourself, he slipped his hand around your throat and squeezed hard. You wheezed out, your bloodshot eyes flashed open as you searched for air, bound wrists fought against the rope. Jackson coached into your ear, his hips slowly pumping his cock in and out of you. He released his grip enough for you to ruggedly breathe, his lips attached onto every bruise and cut on your body to assure you that he meant no harm. You tried to hide it from him, but it was pointless. He knew your body inside out, it truly was his to own. 
“Jackson I’m… Gonna…” you gasped as you felt your walls pulsate. 
“That’s it, let all of that tension go, get rid of all of that bad energy” Jackson smirked as his free hand rubbed your sensitive bud. 
Shortly, you screamed out hoarsely, he let go of your neck to hear your sympathy. The clenches vibrated down his length. Right after, Jackson felt his dick ready to spurt out. His hands pulled your hips up as he buried himself completely inside of you, your body trembled immensely as he finished inside of you. Your body slumped, completely exhausted as you gasped for an easy breath. Right before you finally could escape him, you heard his dark voice echo through your mind. 
“Goodnight Mrs Rippner”
Tumblr media
218 notes · View notes
melaninpov · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Trevante Rhodes aka Daddy in Candy Cane Lane (2023)
872 notes · View notes
i-blindside · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Cillian Murphy | keeping us waiting and guessing and wanting
96 notes · View notes
alphacomicsvol2 · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Batman: White Knight #2 by Sean Murphy
97 notes · View notes
rockymountainqueen2 · 7 months ago
Link
Pitch Bibles for Ducktales 2017, Hailey’s On It!, 101 Dalmatian Street, Alice’s Wonderland Bakery, Amphibia, Big City Greens, Big Hero 6: The Series, Brandy and Mr. Whiskers, the Darkwing Duck reboot, Gravity Falls, Tron: Uprising, Kick Buttowski: Suburban Daredevil, Katbot, Kim Possible, Motorcity, The Buzz on Maggie, Milo Murphy’s Law, Fish Hooks, Randy Cunningham: 9th Grade Ninja, Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur, Super Robot Monkey Team Hyperforce Go!, Sofia the First, Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure, Jake and the Never Land Pirates, The Emperor’s New School, The Owl House, The Replacements, American Dragon: Jake Long, Wonder Over Yonder, and Ying Yang Yo!
178 notes · View notes
luluartpop · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Young Cillian in his old band "The Sons of Mr. Green Genes" (1997)
240 notes · View notes
cillianmesoftlyyy · 4 months ago
Text
Academic Validation | Mike Kiernan x fem!student
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: The principal pays Mr. Kiernan a visit after school to ask after a promising young student.
Warnings: FLUFF! I made this for me and the other girlies who crave male-academic validation lol. The student isn't actually in this story, she's just talked about but she isn't there to hear it.
word count: 1186k
Hello My Old Heart- The Oh Hellos 🎶
Not proof read, sorry folks!
Mike Kiernan shuffled through a short stack of student papers on his desk. His gradebook was sitting open in front of him as his fingers worked down the pile. 
“Mr. Kiernan?” A man knocked on the gray door frame and poked his head into the classroom. Kiernan jumped slightly when he saw the principal at the door but laughed it off and beckoned him inside his empty classroom. 
“I’m glad I caught you alone,” the principal started. 
“Oh?” Kiernan chuckled as he watched the principal move a seat in front of the teacher’s desk and sit. 
“I had some questions about a student and you seem like the best person to ask.”
“Which student?” Kiernan asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He pulled open his desk drawer and slid his finger across the row of labeled folders. 
“Y/N Y/L/N,” the principal responded and crossed his legs, “she’s up for an award at graduation. I said I’d talk to you first and try to get a recommendation from a teacher that knew her best.” 
“Oh, well I wouldn’t say that. Though she has been in most of my seminars.” The teacher laughed and found the file with the student’s name written across the top. 
“Well,” Kiernan started and opened the file on top of his gradebook, “what exactly do you want to know?” His blue eyes looked gray through the thick lenses of his horn-rimmed glasses. 
“What kind of student is she? What kind of stuff have you noticed about her as you’ve taught her?” The principal offered. 
He smiled at his boss before looking at Y/N’s file for a moment in silence. 
“Well I wrote her college recommendation letters.” 
“Oh, really?”
“Mhm.” 
“She’s going to NYU, right?”
“Oh yes, she’s done well for herself.” 
Awkward silence fell between them again and Kiernan glanced out the window for a moment. He sniffed and pushed the bridge of his glasses further up his nose.
“Well in regard to her ability as a student, she’s one of the most talented students I’ve ever had. She engages in class and tries her best to contribute even if she doesn't understand the reading…”
Mr. Kiernan stared off into the distance as he recalled the girl. She was a memorable student, one that he’d miss having in class to make the hour-long period less awkward. When his questions fell flat and he was met with silence, the girl always raised her hand hesitantly and tried to answer. She had a remarkable sense of empathy, the ability to understand his job as a teacher and extend simple gestures of support. She was a beautiful person, inside and out. 
“She's an exceptionally bright young woman,” Kiernan started again and cleared his throat, “her last essay for my seminar was on Atonement, talented writer. She wrote about the ethics of lying in memory. There were of course parts I didn’t agree with but her argument was strong and well-researched. Things like that are always promising in a young student’s work.
“She’s going to do great things, I’m sure of it. We’re holding her back here. She’s better than my class, she’s just itching to be better somewhere else.”
“You obviously think very highly of her,” the principal smiled and folded his hands together. “What about her personality? The award considers who she is as a person outside of class, how she carries herself in other parts of academics.”
Kiernan bit his lip and tented his hands in front of his puffy lips. He could see her picking up her backpack and fixing the hem of her skirt as she stood up from her desk. He loved the way that she flicked her eyes up to his to make sure he didn’t see her fix her wedgie. She stayed after class sometimes to ask him questions and academic advice. 
I don’t know what to do after college, Mr. Kiernan.
That’s ok, Miss Y/L/N. Barely anyone does. I didn’t. 
I think I may want to be a teacher like you. 
You can, or you can strive to be even better.
But I want to be like you. 
You flatter me, Miss Y/L/N, but I know you’re capable of doing better. 
But who says being a teacher isn’t ‘better?’
I do. 
She was insecure sometimes, especially academically. He noticed quickly in the school year that she flushed bright red if he agreed with her during discussions, as if she was surprised that she had gotten the question right. She wanted to learn and get better but she was afraid to make mistakes. 
“She’s a bright student, as I’ve said, but she’s also humble and even insecure sometimes. She doesn’t think she’s as smart as she is which makes me sad sometimes as an educator. My job is to encourage confidence in the children I teach.”
“Right,” the principal nodded.
“She’s kind and passionate about the topics she feels drawn to in the literature we read. She’s a very kind young woman. She helps students outside of class and spends most of her free time reading in the library. She’s the kind of student that every teacher wants.”
She was always nervous to talk to him, nervous to be natural. It was sweet, tenderly sweet. She tried her best not to stand out too much in class but her questions and thoughts were too different not to be unique. Her mind worked in incredible ways. He bragged about her to the other teachers. She was just wonderful. 
“She’s just going to blow us all away. I don’t know which award she’s up for but I’m sure she deserves it. She’d honor the award as it deserves to be. I am so so proud of her.” He smiled politely and closed the student’s file. The principal nodded and sighed. He stood up and shook Mr. Kiernan’s hand before stepping up to the door. 
“Well thank you for speaking with me, I think you’ve just made my job very easy.” 
“I’m glad I could be of some help.” 
Mr. Kiernan watched as the principal left his classroom and stared at the student’s file that was still closed in front of him. He leaned back in his chair and massaged the sore points above his eyebrows. 
Was it appropriate to say that he was going to miss having her in his class next year? Perhaps he had taken her for granted. He might never have a student like her again. His thoughts ran away from him as he stared at the empty desks in front of him. If it weren’t for the professional barrier between them, he would have told her how much he admired her talent and skill. He’d written as much in her college recommendation letter, and so others had started to notice it too, he guessed. She was the kind of student a school takes for granted. He hoped that he would never take her for granted and put the file back with the others. A sentimental smile tugged at his lips as he closed the drawer and returned to grading. 
84 notes · View notes
ninaheta · 5 months ago
Note
I saw you take a request once, and I don't know if you still do, but if you do take requests, I'd love to see anything from MML! Maybe Mr Block?
Tumblr media
Which one?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
124 notes · View notes
bughead-in-the-comics · 1 year ago
Photo
Tumblr media
From The Real Thing, Everything's Archie #141 (1989).
6 notes · View notes
istanblogs · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Deep and sad eyes of lovers..
Pride and Prejudice - Mr Darcy
Atonement - Robbie Turner
War and Peace - Andrei Bolkonsky
Peaky Blinders - Thomas Shelby
Anna Karenina - Alexei Vronsky
Anna Karenina - Konstantin Levin
Victoria - Prince Albert
461 notes · View notes
newwavesylviaplath · 8 months ago
Text
i think he likes that pose idk
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
297 notes · View notes
luthanraels-bignaturals · 4 months ago
Text
the least realistic thing in the blues brothers is that they got the lead guitarist on board. if my old bandmates asked me to join their reunion tour and my wife: Aretha Franklin. told me no⁉️⁉️ I am literally never speaking to them again.
68 notes · View notes
look-at-the-soul · 11 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
He’s a dream ✨
200 notes · View notes
doortotomorrow · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
memori - on their honeymoon
69 notes · View notes