#oppenheimer fanfiction

[lovelybucky1]

The Doctor is In

Kinktober Day 11- Threesome

warnings: AFAB!Reader, student/teacher relationship, dom/sub dynamics, oral sex (f and m receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, snowballing, dirty talk, smoking, alcohol consumption, robert x lawrence, 18+ minors DNI

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When Lawrence confided in Robert about his recent dry spell, he was never expecting this to come from that conversation. Robert had told him he has a mistress, one Robert is certain his wife knows about but has yet to confront him about. She's young, pretty, bright, and has an interest in physics- or at least is attracted enough to Robert to pretend to care about his ramblings.

Lawrence was skeptical. He doesn't know many men who are eager to share their woman, but Robert has never been like most men. Maybe it's a kink for him to have another man fuck his mistress. Robert was open about what the two of you get up to, and it's safe to say that neither of you are very reserved in the bedroom.

After thinking about the offer for a day or two, Lawrence agreed. Robert already had a time and place in mind. Seven o'clock on Friday at his house for dinner. His wife would be away with the kids until Sunday, giving them the perfect opportunity to explore.

Friday came quickly and Lawrence found himself standing on Robert's door step with a bottle of wine in hand. Robert came to the door and greeted Lawrence with a smile, then lead him into the kitchen. Once there, he saw your behind bent over in front of the oven.

You take the chicken out of the oven and place it on top of the stove. Lawrence thought it was a bit odd to have a mistress cook in the wife's kitchen, but he supposed you and Robert were playing house for the weekend.

You turn around and saw both men standing at the kitchen table. Your face lit up when you saw Lawrence, but his stomach dropped when he saw you.

"Dr. Lawrence!" you say excitedly, coming over to both men. Lawrence stares down at you with his mouth slightly agape.

"You two know each other?" Robert asks.

"Oh, yes, he's one of my professors," you grin. "When you said you had a friend from work joining us, I was afraid it was gonna be one of those weird old guys."

Lawrence snaps out of his shock and looks over at Robert. "I didn't know your..." he feels it's inappropriate to call you a mistress to your face, "was a student."

"I didn't think it mattered," Robert counters.

"Please come sit, I made chicken," you say, drawing both men's attention.

Robert sits down at the head of the table with Lawrence to his right, leaving the seat to his left for you. The table is already set neatly and you bring over the tray with the chicken on it. The meat is steaming and the herbs are fragrant. There's mashed potatoes, a salad, and enough wine to leave the three of you drunk.

You make polite conversation over dinner, and Lawrence can't help but find it a bit humorous that you're making a date out of an arranged hookup. He is enjoying himself, though, so he can't complain too much.

The conversation revolves around work, and each time you speak, Lawrence is reminded that you're his student. His kind, polite, curious student who always brings him an apple and sits in the first row. You are a brilliant student and your work is always impressive. He never thought you would be the type to get mixed up in an extramarital affair with Dr. Oppenheimer, but Lawrence supposes he doesn't really know the true you.

Your food is delicious, the best Lawrence has had in a while. He thinks to himself that you would make a good wife, then chastises himself for thinking that way about a student.

"What's the matter, Lawrence?" Robert asks, breaking Lawrence's train of thought.

Lawrence looks between the two of you. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little nervous," he says. There's a blush rising to his cheeks and he feels shy under your attention.

"Don't be nervous, Doctor. We'll take good care of you," you smile reassuringly.

You reach over and grab his hand. Your fingers are delicate and your hand is small compared to his. His heart races and he suddenly has the urge for more wine.

"I suppose since we're on the topic, we should discuss how the rest of the night is going to go," Robert says.

"That's a good idea," Lawrence agrees.

"To get the awkward question out of the way," Robert starts, as if this won't all be awkward. "Do you fuck men?"

Luckily Lawrence's mouth was clear of food because it would have been lodged in his airway after hearing the question. Lawrence clears his throat and looks between you and Robert.

"I... haven't."

"Are you interested?"

"In you?" Robert nods. "I don't know... I haven't really thought of it."

"We'll start off slow, then."

Lawrence's head is spinning. His coworker just asked him if he wanted to have sex and now he has to continue on living his life as if that's normal. As if he's not intrigued.

"What kinds of things do you like, Doctor?" you ask.

"Um..." Lawrence says as his mind races to find an answer.

"Any particular turn-ons you have?" Robert asks.

When he still doesn't answer, you speak up. "Well, I can tell you what I like and you can tell me what you think about them."

"Yeah," Lawrence nods. "That sounds good."

You scoot closer to him and rest your chin on your hand, somehow making yourself look even cuter.

"I like older men who have experience. They know what they like and aren't afraid to take it. I like a strong hand to guide and to please me. And I want to be worshipped." Lawrence listens intently with wide eyes. "How do you feel about that?"

"I, um," he clears his throat, "I like it. All of that. Sounds good to me."

You smile widely and look over at Robert. "How about Dr. Lawrence and I take turns on you, dear?" he says. You agree excitedly.

"You don't have to call me that," Lawrence says, feeling unusually timid.

"Call you what?" you ask.

"Doctor."

You stand up from your chair and push Lawrence's plate back so you can perch yourself on the table in front of him. Your legs are crossed but your skirt still shows a fair amount of thigh. It's nothing Lawrence hasn't seen before, but now he's allowed to look. Your feet hang between his parted legs and he traces the seam of your stockings with his eyes.

"But I like calling you that," you say, batting your eyelashes. "But I could call you professor if you'd prefer."

Lawrence's eyes flick over to Roberts, searching for signs of discomfort or objection, but only found a smirk.

"This is... inappropriate," he says. "You're my student."

There is a slight pout to your bottom lip. "Doesn't that make it better? I've seen the way you look at me in class, Doctor. I bet you've thought about what would happen if I came to your office and asked for extra credit."

Lawrence shouldn't be surprised. Robert wouldn't spend time with a girl if she wasn't a firecracker. You just look so sweet and innocent, it's difficult to fathom these dirty words are coming out of your mouth.

You uncross your legs and part your thighs, giving him a peak of your delicate panties. "No one has to know, Doctor."

You're a seductress disguised as an angel. You're the snake tempting him to take a bite of the apple and let the delicious juice drip down his chin.

Lawrence slides his chair back to make space in front of the table, then drops to his knees in front of you. He's staring directly at your clothed cunt and he can practically smell your desire from there.

"What are you doing, Lawrence?" Robert asks.

Lawrence looks over at him and expects him to be angry, but he is smirking. "You're not going to fuck my woman on the dinner table. You'll take her to the bedroom like a gentleman."

It's a bit ironic that Robert wants Lawrence to be a gentleman and fuck his mistress in his wife's bed, but he's the guest here, he's in no position to argue.

Lawrence nods and rises to his feet. He holds out his hand to help you down from the table, which you eagerly accept. You lead him through the house and up the stairs to the bedroom, Robert following close behind.

You turn the lamp on and turn to the two men standing in the center of the room and sit at the foot of the bed. "Daddy?" you ask, voice sweet as honey.

"Yes, dear?"

"Would you take my shoes and stockings off please?"

Everything about this situation surprises Lawrence. You call Robert Daddy? He is eager to kneel at your feet and take off your shoes and stockings when you are perfectly capable of doing so yourself?

Once your pantyhose is balled up next to your shoes on the floor, Robert begins to kiss up your legs. You hum with contentment as he does so, but you don't look down at him, no. You're looking at Lawrence.

"Come here, Doctor," you say, beckoning him forward.

He crosses the room to stand next to you. You reach out to grasp his tie and you pull him down to your level. His breath hitches in his throat at the display of dominance, eyes glued to your lips.

"I like when Daddy's in charge, but I always get what I want. He spoils me rotten, but that's the way I like it. Daddy knows what happens when he denies me, doesn't he?" you ask.

Robert peaks up from underneath your skirt. "I've learned my lesson," he says before resuming his exploration of your thighs.

"Are you going to give me what I want?" you ask, turning your attention back to Lawrence.

He swallows thickly. "Yes."

You grin. "Wonderful. Now, take off your shirt."

You let him go and he stands up straight. Lawrence is surprised that you're so demanding, almost entitled, but he's working open the buttons on his shirt anyway.

He reveals his pale chest dusted with light hair. His pink nipples are peaked from the cool air in the room and he feels a flush rise to his chest under your gaze. As he opens his shirt further, you can see the happy trail that leads underneath the waistband of his pants, and your desire for him grows.

While you watch Lawrence, Robert pushes your panties to the side to touch your pussy. He gently strokes your clit with his finger and tongue, caresses your folds with slow licks, and dips his fingers just the slightest bit inside you. He's teasing you, but you're not worked up enough to complain about it yet.

"Now the pants," you order.

Lawrence slips off his shoes and undoes his belt, letting his pants fall to his ankles. You lick your lips at the sight of him standing in his briefs.

"Daddy," you say, pulling him away from your cunt by his hair.

"Yes, dear?"

"Take your clothes off too."

Robert does as he's told and undresses. You watch Lawrence trying not to watch Robert and it amuses you. Once both men are left in their underwear, you pull down your skirt and take off your blouse, leaving you in your own undergarments.

You stand up and step between the two men. You place a hand on both of their chests and urge them closer. Lawrence hesitantly puts his hands on your waist and Robert grabs your hips from behind. Both of them explore your body with your hands, and when they touch, Lawrence gasps.

"No need to be so shy, Doctor," you say while looking into his eyes. "Daddy doesn't bite."

Robert tucks his face into the crook of your neck and does just that; he sinks his teeth into the sensitive skin and you gasp. Your back arches and your chest presses against Lawrence's.

The man in front of you looks down at your breasts, almost entranced by them. You notice, of course.

"You can touch them if you want," you say.

Lawrence studies your face for any sign of hesitation, but all he sees is you batting your doe eyes at him. He slides his hands up your torso and cups your breasts in his large hands. You hear him let out a shaky breath and both you and Robert chuckle.

"He's so easy, Daddy," you giggle.

Robert wraps his arms around your waist and presses his chest against your back. "It's been a while for him, honey. Don't be mean."

Lawrence's cheeks are a delicious pink and it makes you want to tease him even more. You run your hand down his chest, stomach, over the fuzz under his navel, and over the bulge in his briefs. His body jolts at the contact, so you do it again.

"Fuck," he whispers.

"That's a naughty word, Doctor. I didn't think someone like you would do something like this."

Your hand slips underneath the waistband and you grasp his cock. You give it one firm stroke and when he lets out a groan, you grin.

"Haven't you tortured Dr. Lawrence enough for one night, dear?" Robert asks. He's phrasing it to sound like he's trying to benefit Lawrence, but you know he's getting impatient.

"I just want one more thing, Daddy," you say, looking over your shoulder at him.

"Anything for you," he smiles.

You have a devilish twinkle in your eye, one Robert knows well. "I want you and Dr. Lawrence to kiss."

Lawrence gawks, his eyes flicking up to Robert's to see if he's also shocked. To his surprise, Robert looks as if you've just asked him the weather.

“You’re a scientist, Ernie. Do it in the name of research,” Robert suggests. “Or in the name of getting your dick wet. Whatever works for you.”

"Okay," Lawrence says hesitantly.

Robert moves from behind you to stand next to Lawrence. He gently places his hand on the taller man's hip and leans close. You watch eagerly as Robert reaches up to press his lips to Lawrence's. Lawrence is stiff, but he's not rejecting the kiss. He's pliant for Robert, allowing him to take control.

The kiss doesn't last long and there's no tongue, but it was enough to satisfy you. When the two men part, they both look over at you. Robert's pupils are lust-blown and Lawrence looks like he could pass out.

"Was that what you wanted?" Robert asks.

"It was perfect, Daddy," you smile. "Now Dr. Lawrence has earned my pussy."

You scamper off to the bed and lay down on your stomach. Your feet hang over the edge of the bed a bit so there's enough room for Robert by the pillows.

Robert walks around the bed, taking off his underwear before climbing onto the mattress and sitting in front of you. His cock is hard and leaking, and you bite your lip in anticipation of what's to come.

"You tell him what to do, Daddy," you say while looking up at Robert through your lashes.

With Robert's legs positioned on either side of your head, you open your mouth and take the tip of his cock into your mouth. He lets out a groan when you suck gently.

"Why don't you come give our good girl what she wants," Robert says over your head to Lawrence.

Wordlessly, Lawrence steps forward and gently grasps the waistband of your panties. You move your legs to make it easier to take them off and Lawrence is met with the sight of your dripping cunt.

"Fuck," he whispers to himself.

Lawrence takes off his own underwear and begins to stroke his dick while looking at your ass. Robert watches him with a raised eyebrow, wondering when he'll get to it.

"Eat her out first. You can't fuck her dry," Robert says.

"She certainly isn't dry," Lawrence says as he kneels behind you and spreads your legs apart.

You squirm a bit when he leans in, his hot breath tickling your inner thighs. He starts by licking up your pussy, vaguely aware that Robert did this earlier. He can't tell if he's tasting your juices, Robert's spit, or a mixture of the two, but it's intoxicating.

He teases your clit with his tongue while you do the same to Robert's cock. You can't help the moan that escapes your mouth when Lawrence works his tongue into you. His hands grip your thighs as he buries his face deeper into you, making his glasses dig into your skin.

It's good, too good, but you know getting fucked by him will be better. You pull off of Robert and look up at him with a pout. "Make him stop, Daddy. I wanna cum on his dick, not his face."

The idea of you soaking his face makes Lawrence groan into your pussy and he is reluctant to stop. You're clearly impatient because before he has the change to remove his tongue, you're reaching back and pulling him away by his hair.

Lawrence whines at the tug on his roots. It's an accident, an entirely involuntary reaction and one you will file away for later.

"You heard her," Robert says, giving Lawrence the green light.

You work your way farther down Robert's cock as Lawrence kneels on the bed behind you, positioning himself properly. The tip of the cock hits the back of your throat and you gag. Robert looks down at you sympathetically and cups your jaw, stroking it soothingly.

"Take it all, gorgeous. Don't choke on it, I know you can do it."

Lawrence would be lying if he said Robert's dirty talk to you wasn't also affecting him. His cock drips as he nears your entrance and he is certain he won't last long. His tip bumps against your folds and you tense up at first, but then relax.

"Go ahead, Doctor," Robert says with a teasing lilt. "Fuck her."

Taking directions from Robert makes Lawrence's cock throb, but he pointedly ignores the implications of that in favor of relishing in the feeling of your tight cunt as he pushes into you.

He goes slow as to not hurt you, but your hole swallows him up greedily so he figures he doesn't have to worry about that. Once he's seated fully inside of you, he lets out the breath he was holding.

He braces himself on his hands and knees and begins to rock his hips. After so long with only his hand, your cunt feels like heaven. Even the friction of his lower stomach on your ass makes him dizzy.

At the head of the bed, your lips are pressed around the base of Robert's cock and you're focusing on trying not to choke. He's praising you like he always does, but it's hard to hear him over the blood rushing in your ears.

Your lipstick stains his cock, marking him in a way that makes Robert's possessive hindbrain go wild. He tries to be considerate when you suck him off like this, but it's so difficult to stop himself from bucking into your mouth and making you take him.

Pretty soon, you're getting fucked from both ends. Lawrence is pounding into your cunt, dick dragging along that sweet spot inside of you that fuels the flame inside of you. Robert instructed you to relax your throat so he could grab your hair and work you over his cock at his pace.

This is always your favorite part of the scene, when your bossy, bratty demeanor is replaced by a needy, submissive one. You're still getting what you want, but the punishing strokes of both men make it feel like they're the ones calling the shots.

Your whines and moans are muffled by Robert's cock, but both he and Lawrence are making noise freely.

"You feel so good," Robert praises. "My pretty little girl."

Lawrence doesn't do any talking, save for the occasional swear. There's mostly heavy breathing and small moans coming from behind you, and that just won't do.

"Spank her, Ernie. Makes her even tighter," Robert says.

"Can't get much tighter," he says, breathless. He brings his hand back and delivers a slap to your outer thigh. You choke on a cry and like Robert said you would, you got tighter. "Shit."

"Her cunt feel good?" Robert asks. He knows how hot it makes you when he talks about you like you're not there.

"So fucking good."

"You like sticking your dick in students, Doctor?" Lawrence moans low and long. He drapes himself over your back to rut into you with a newfound desperation. "You're never going to look at her the same."

Robert's right. The two of you have ruined Lawrence's life. He won't be able to teach or even think about physics without thinking of his student with the tightest pussy he's ever fucked.

"I'm gonna cum," Lawrence says. He's embarrassed that he was so quick, but he held it off for as long as he could.

"You better pull out," Robert says, still forcing you down on his cock. "You wouldn't want to knock her up, would you?"

Lawrence curses and quickly sits up to jerk himself off over top of you. Robert watches intently, ignoring you while Lawrence squirts his cum on your lower back. He groans and his head lolls back, the fatigue and relief hitting him once he's ridden through his orgasm.

Lawrence stands at the foot of the bed to catch his breath, watching the scene in front of him. "You're not finished," Robert says, his voice noticeably more airy now. "You're not done until she cums for you."

Resuming his earlier position, Lawrence eats you out with the intent of having you soak his face. He rubs your clit with his thumb, fucks you with his tongue, and moans into your cunt, all while you get face fucked at the head of the bed.

"Good fucking girl. You're gonna make me cum," Robert says to you. "Where do you want it? On your face?" You try to shake your head but Robert's hand on the back on your neck makes it difficult. "You want to swallow it, don't you?"

You moan loudly and nod the best you can. Robert smirks down at you and his body relaxes as he prepares to cum down your throat. You allow yourself to be used and focus on the pleasure of Lawrence's tongue inside you.

Like the last time he got you close, it didn't take much time at all. Before you know it, your cunt gushes all over his face and you cry out. Lawrence's mouth floods with your cum and he drinks it down eagerly.

With one particularly deep thrust, the first spurt of cum hits the back of your throat, making you gag. You're helpless to do anything but take it, though you don't swallow yet. You know Daddy likes to see it in your mouth.

Distracted by Robert's orgasm, you don't realize that Lawrence is still working your pussy until it becomes painfully sensitive. Robert pulls out of your mouth and lets go of your neck and your body jolts, trying to escape the stimulation.

"Stop," you whine, but its muddled by the puddle of cum on your tongue.

Lawrence immediately pulls away and you look at him from over your shoulder. He's sweaty: hair wet, chest glistening, and glasses foggy. He looks absolutely wrecked, but you don't get to admire him for long because Robert pulls your attention back to him.

"Hasn't anyone told you not to talk with your mouth full, little girl?" he asks, holding your jaw. "Open up, let me see."

You do as you're told and stick out your tongue so he can see the pearly liquid. He smiles, satisfied, but it morphs into something wicked.

"Why don't you go give Dr. Lawrence a kiss, dear? Thank him for making you cum."

Robert gives you a look that screams don't question me. You sit up, legs shaking, and turn to where Lawrence stands at the foot of the bed. You don't say a word, but you look up at him with wide, tantalizing eyes.

This time, Lawrence doesn't look to Robert before making his move. He ducks down and cups your jaw with his large hand before slotting his lips against yours. You escalate the kiss by pressing your tongue to the seam of his lips and when he allows you entrance, you let the cum flow from your mouth to his.

Lawrence whimpers, surely disliking the bitter taste, but swallows it quickly to get it out of his mouth. Despite that, he keeps kissing you for a second longer.

"Did you like it, Doctor?" you ask once you part.

Lawrence isn't certain if you're asking about the sex or the cum.

"Yes," he breathes.

You smile widely and look over your shoulder back at Robert, who is still sitting shamelessly nude and spread on the bed. The three of you sit in silence for a moment before Lawrence starts to redress.

No one offered him a place in the bed for the night and he certainly wasn't going to ask to stay. You crawl back up by Robert and cuddle into his side, laying your head on his wife's pillow. You both watch as Lawrence rebuttons his shirt and slips on his shoes without untying them.

Once dressed, Lawrence looks at the two of you and clears his throat, suddenly feeling awkward. "Thank you for having me," he says.

"Our pleasure," you giggle.

Robert reaches over to the night stand and takes a cigarette out of his case and lights it. He takes a long, slow drag of it before speaking.

"See you on Monday, Doctor."

Lawrence smiles sheepishly and walks out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Work certainly is going to be different from now on. Most notably, no one will be able to address him without him popping a boner in the middle of a lecture.

[queenshelby]

Chemical Reactions (P. 4)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Smut in later parts, Age-Gap, Infidelity

Words: 2,567

Note: The fic is spoiler free and my own fantasy and imagination. It is not historically and scientifically accurate.

Previous Parts: 1; 2; 3

Two weeks later…

Just over two weeks had passed since you took up your scholarship at Berkley and it has been seven days since you began researching for your thesis about dark matter under the supervision of J Robert Oppenheimer who, unfortunately for you, appeared to be somewhat preoccupied with more important matters these days.

For the weeks and days, he had been visited by a man of statue who appeared to be a general of some sort and, whilst you were curious about this man’s visits to Berkley, you already some idea about what this may be about.

For months there had been some talks in the scientific community about the fission reaction of atoms which ultimately gave rise to the possible creation of a new innovative bomb. It was only a matter of time until the army caught on to this idea and you knew from your time at Harvard that several professors had already been lobbying for an atomic bomb project in this regard.

You thus assumed that, finally, the program was going to implemented, especially since now Germany had just invaded Poland. You knew that, an atomic bomb like this could end the war and your presumption was that the army was recruiting scientists, including J Robert Oppenheimer, to build this powerful nuclear weapon before the Germans did.

As such, you did not bother him much these days with minuscule issues about dark matter and Dr Oppenheimer certainly kept to himself whenever he could until Tuesday evening came around and he finally decided to check on you in the lab.

Your POV

Unlike your very own professor, in the lab, you were an ace and experimenting to prove a theory someone else or yourself has come up with excited you a lot even though the theoretical part of physics was what you desired to be involved in the most.

Unlike many other students in your department at Berkley, you had a high attention to detail when it came to experimental physics and since working with hazardous chemicals at high or low pressures required some planning and special precautions, you enjoyed to use the laboratory after everyone had left.

You often spent hours in the lab following your lectures for the day and today was not any different when, at 7 o’clock at night, you were still occupied by your attempts to create a chemical reaction similar to that of a star exploding.

Thus, when Dr Oppenheimer approached you from behind, just as you put the centrifuge you were using under negative pressure and connected it the exhaust system, you startled.

You were concentrating too hard and did not expect to see anyone at this hour in the laboratory, especially not him, your very own supervisor who had been too busy for your research in the past two weeks.

“Holy shit, you startled me” you thus spat as you dropped one of the glass vials on to the concrete floor which, luckily for you, did not contain anything but some pH solution.

“I don’t believe that I ever heard you swear like this, Miss Y/LN” Dr Oppenheimer said with some amusement in his voice before gathering a small broom and helping you to clean up the mess you made because of him, which was a gesture you appreciated.

“My apologies Dr Oppenheimer. It’s just, you don’t seem to be here often these days and I am behind with my research already, so…” you stammered as, together, you cleaned up the broken glass and, before you realised it, his hand was on top of yours, caressing it gently.

Immediately, you felt that same tingling again on your skin which, just a few weeks ago, you felt on your neck when Dr Oppenheimer adjusted the clip on the back of your necklace. It was an intense and rather pleasurable sensation which, ultimately, made you blush.

“There is no need to apologise. If anyone had to apologise, it should be me, for neglecting my engagement as your thesis supervisor. Unfortunatly, there have been some more pressing matters that required my attention” Dr Oppenheimer then said as he was letting go of your hand and raising back to his feet before helping you up as well by using his right hand.

“I figured” you barely stammered while allowing Dr Oppenheimer to pull you to your feet before, with a slight blush, walking towards the utilities room to dispose of the broken glass vail and to obtain a new one.

“You figured?” Dr Oppenheimer then asked somewhat confused by your statement as he followed you into the utilities room.

“I have seen an army general visiting your office twice last week and my presumption is that you have been recruited to build this goddamn bomb, which every physicist in this country has been talking about for months” you asserted with little to no reluctance before also voicing your concerns about it. “Do you really think that this is a good idea?” you wanted to know, seeing that such bomb could easily be a device of mass destruction and, just as you spoke the words, Robert pushed you further into the corner of the utilities room while closing the door shut behind you.

You then suddenly felt his warm but strong arm pull you against him before covering your mouth with the palm of his other hand.

“Shh” he whispered before shaking his head, indicating for you to stop talking and, by that point, your heart was pounding hard with adrenaline.

He must have thought that someone was listening in on you and presumed that the laboratory was bugged by government officials, but none of this mattered to you now as you felt heat everywhere now while his body was touching yours.

The feeling of his body against yours was so intense that you couldn’t even murmur a response into his palm and thus you simply nodded, which is when he spoke again.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, but you sure have a creative imagination” Dr Oppenheimer said, brushing off what you had alleged while still holding his arms around you and embracing the sparks of electricity emanating from each other's bodies.

“Now, about your research on dark matter, how does Sunday sound for a catch up?” he then asked as you looked up into his bright blue eyes while he looked down at you with a look of concern and a hint of desire.

“Sunday?” you murmured in response as you could not even manage to speak proper words just yet as you stood there like this for what felt like hours, but it could not even have been more than a minute or two.

“Yes. Sunday. I am away until then” Dr Oppenheimer then said as his arms finally fell from around you and he cleared his throat.

“And, I am leaving for a period of two weeks after that for which Dr O’Connell will be taking over as your supervisor. He will be a good mentor for you but I want to see where you are at with your research before he gets involved” Dr Oppenheimer then announced which broke your trance and you quickly stepped back, almost tripping over your own feet.

“Dr O’Connell?” you asked with surprise while you looked down at your feet, trying to avoid those magnetic eyes of J Robert Oppenheimer.

“Yes. I am afraid so” he confirmed, which is when you finally managed to look at his face again. His eyes were clouded with indescribable emotions and, clearly, so were yours.

“I understand” you eventually confirmed nervously. “Sunday it is but, since the university facilities will be closed, we will need to meet somewhere else” you managed to point out while your eyes began to water slightly from the overwhelmingness of everything that just happened, making you look like a fool.

Dr Oppenheimer, of course, noticed and his face changed from indiscernible to concern once more.

“You will do just fine Miss Y/LN. I have no doubt about it” he reassured you before suggesting the library as a meeting place which meant that, unbeknownst to him, you would have had to copy your calculations from your big chalkboard in your room to several pieces of paper.

“How about the Chevalier residence instead?” you thus suggested, causing Robert to furrow his eyebrows.

“I do not consider this to be a good idea Miss Y/LN. It would be highly inappropriate” Dr Oppenheimer pointed out, but you interrupted him.

“Haakon and Barbara are in San Jose for the weekend. You are friend of them both, so I have no doubt that they wouldn’t mind you visiting me in their absence. That is, of course, if your wife allows it” you explained with a little smirk on your face and your sudden sense of confidence surprised Dr Oppenheimer.

“My wife too, is away, staying with her mother for the time being” he explained before agreeing to your suggestion, but you would not just leave it that.

“Did you and your wife have a fight?” you asked out of curiosity, which is when Dr Oppenheimer shook his head and chuckled.

“We always fight, but that is not the reason. She is staying with her mother because I am busy and am travelling a lot these days and she needs help with our son, Peter” he then explained before stepping away from you again, increasing the gap between you.

“Now, I am afraid, I must go. I have another pressing engagement this evening” he told you and you had a sneaky suspicion that your professor was making the most of the time his wife was away.

“No doubt you do, professor. I shall see you on Sunday” you said with a slight chuckle, seeing that you already knew about his numerous affairs, including his on and off relations with Jean Tatlock.

Robert’s POV

It was later that same day, at around 8 o’clock that Robert went to a place that he had not visited in about three weeks, namely the apartment of Jean Tatlock’s in downtown San Francisco.

Ever since meeting you, he avoided her and whilst he did so subconsciously, he gave it some thought after Jean had addressed the fact that he had been ignoring her calls.

After almost three weeks, she now expressed a great desire to see him again and, considering her poor mental state, Robert reluctantly agreed.

As always, Robert brought her flowers which she disposed of rather quickly and just as she asked him inside, Robert began to explain to her that he was not there to see her for the usual reasons.

This was meant to be his final visit and he knew that, by ending their affair, he would likely break her heart. She would be devastated and that was something that concerned him a lot.

“I am not here for that Jean” Robert thus said just as Jean attempted to kiss him in a haste while pulling against his tie and suit jacket.

“And yet, you finally answered my call. Why?” she asked almost angrily, rolling her eyes before pushing Robert aside and pouring herself a drink. Clearly, she was confused and Robert had to provide an explanation to her.

“Because we need to talk Jean. This has been going on for far too long” he told her while adjusting his tie and jacket again. His facial expression was more serious than usual and that, in itself, concerned Jean.

“Oh my god Robert, after all those years you want to end it?” she asked as tears shot into the corners of her eyes. She shook her head in disbelieve and then smashed the glass she was holding onto the hard wooden floor, spilling her drink along with it.

“Jean, please…” Robert said calmly, trying to console her by reaching for her hands, but Jean pulled away.

“There is someone else, isn’t there?” she asked angrily, causing Robert to sigh deeply.

“I am a married man Jean, so yes, there is someone else, my wife” Robert tried to explain but Jean shook her head angrily and pointed her finger at him.

“No Robert! I am not talking about your wife and neither are you” she said sternly as slowly, but surely, her emotions got the better of her. She began to yell at Robert and, seeing that Jean was so upset, he did not know what else to say to her. He was lost for words.

“Who is she?” she then wanted to know and this is when she received yet another response from her lover that both, confused her and made her fume with rage.

“She is a woman who will help me change the world” Robert acknowledged somewhat reluctantly, causing the tears in her eyes to increase rapidly.

“You know that I love you, Robert. In fact, I never stopped loving you even after you married Katherine" she pleaded while trying to comprehend the situation. For years, Robert had maintained his affair to Jean even after he married Kitty and now this was going to be over because of someone else?

"And I have loved you too, but you have destroyed that love for me Jean. You pushed me away repeatedly and now I am finally it. I moved on” Robert said a little too honestly and with a lack of emotion in his voice, causing Jean’s reaction to worsen.

"I have said I was sorry, Robert!” Jean screamed almost hysterically while stepping one step towards Robert and pushing her hands against his chest, forcing him against the wall.

“So am I Jean. I truly am” he told her while cupping her face. Her tears were clouding her eyes and he sealed her faith with one final kiss before leaving her apartment for the last time, until she would call him again several months later.

Note: Unlike in real life, Jean will not kill herself in this fic. In fact, she will reappear in a few later parts, causing some havoc for the reader.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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[weirdworldofwinnie]

Oasis in a Desperate Land of Dark Desire - Part One: Arrival

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Wife Reader, NSFW 18+ only

Summary: You are married to the man in charge of the Manhattan Project himself, Dr. Robert Oppenheimer, and it's your first day (and night) at Los Alamos where tension and unspoken worry is getting high, but he finds time to show you how love can be an oasis in what seems like a rather barren land.

Word Count: ~7, 213

Warnings: Age gap (reader is mid-20s and he is almost 40, and they have been married for a couple years), period stereotypical gender roles (maybe sexism?), unprotected + oral sex, mention of miscarriage, and strong hints at infidelity

Disclaimer: Obviously NOT completely historically or scientifically accurate to real life and is inspired by the film with Cillian Murphy's portrayal of Oppenheimer. There are definitely mentions of Katherine and Jean Tatlock as lovers in this, but he does not have any children with Kitty and is not physically with either of them presently. I also want to clarify that this (while researched) is still just my interpretation with AU elements added in, and it isn't supposed to be in total support and reflection of the real man's life/personality. Scroll away and DNI if you are uncomfortable or take issue with this story; it is primarily for entertainment purposes only and it is just fantasy/fiction!

April 1943

The ride en route to the secluded destination christened as "Los Alamos" was long, hot, and bumpy through the New Mexico desert on a single primitive dirt road with the sun beating down on the windshield, glaring into your eyes and reflecting off the expensive dainty golden watch wrapped around your wrist that had been last year's anniversary present, and the jostling motion of the car made your breasts jiggle up and down slightly, reminding you that you'd been in such a hurry to leave with Robert this morning you'd regrettably forgone putting on a bra. He glanced over to you now, his porkpie hat shadowing the serious and contemplative expression that he had been wearing as a regular look for weeks now... Finally this plan was coming to fruition, but at what cost? It was the government's money and the scientists who were on the line. Robert let you know more details than most out of his non-physics inner circle because he trusted you to keep your lips sealed, but he never gave specifics about what exactly the coined Manhattan Project, or Project Y, was for in terms of a mission yet because it was national security level secret, however it didn't take a genius to figure out it was incredibly important and the development of something dangerous... Too dangerous to keep in a campus laboratory at Berkeley.

As the car approached the main gate and passed by the checkpoint, you realized just now fairly remote this barbed-wire location was and it made a small sinkhole crater in your stomach. But Robert knew this land from his youth and you partly did too, for he owned ranchland here and you both had spent many hours in the last couple years roaming on horseback and on foot into the twilight hours of the day, feeling the chill of the evening breeze and the rustle of shrubbery as the sun dipped down below the horizon and plum light bathed the landscape, bouncing off the backdrop of mountains and reaching deep into the canyons. You recalled fondly one time in particular during the early stages of being courted by him... It was technically only the second date and he had mistakenly trusted you with a horse, even though you were hardly an experienced rider, and of course it had gone ballistic and attempted to buck you off as you held on for dear life to the stiff dark brown leather saddle.

"Woah... Woah! Easy, easy," Robert had called out, grabbing a hold of the bridle and patting the stallion on the neck as you gasped and he kicked his hooves, thrashing the dirt and missing Robert's cowboy boots by inches.

"This one can be a bit rowdy, sometimes the wild never quite gets bred out, and he's not used to you," he explained simply over your panicked cries as he kept patting and verbally calming the animal down.

"But what did I do wrong? I swear, he dislikes me tremendously!" you exclaimed in shock and Robert only shook his head.

"Then he has very poor taste in women if he rejects you," he had joked and you went sliding off the horse's back to where Robert caught you, easing you to the ground gently.

"Are you alright?" he asked, eyes alight with a mischievous concern, but you merely brushed your pants off and smoothed your blouse, shaking the experience off.

"Of course I am. Now are we riding or not?"

He smiled at your confidence, but had hoisted you up onto his horse instead, straddling you from behind so you were facing front and clutching onto the reins. His arms loped around your waist and the horse began to trot, bouncing both you and him in a steady up and down motion, and you flicked the reins, causing the horse to take off into the expansive landscape and Robert let out a joyous whoop as the pace transitioned into a gregarious cantering gallop and the wind whipped your hair around like a battered Old Glory flag in a storm.

"This is too fast!" you had yelled out, but he only laughed, tightening his hold into a squeeze around you and spoke into your ear with a low murmur which instinctively made the goosebumps flare up on your neck.

"I wouldn't let you go even if that horse went mad and flew us off the ground over into a ravine to our deaths."

A little more than six months later after that frivolous adventure, he had dropped to his knee in that very desert and proposed to you, a diamond engagement ring encased in a black box in his palms and you were startled, taken aback at the promptness and faintly aware he was actively seeing at least one other woman at the time, but he had claimed he called it off with her a week ago.

You had cautiously accepted, knowing he was far from a wholesome man, but he was certainly one in a billion and you had unapologetically been with him ever since, even though some friends and extended relatives had openly judged, thinking you were only climbing up a social status ladder by doing so, and a couple of your more left-leaning girlfriends thought you were foolish to already settle for a man at your young age, but you truly loved him. Romance was rather odd; so rushed it could be and yet you felt comfortable around him as if you had known each other for life; soulmates, perhaps, if there ever was such a notion.

The wedding ceremony had been lavish enough to make you feel special, but it had been a more low-key event with only a small group of the closest friends and family in attendance, for he did not want much pomp and circumstance and you had spent the honeymoon at his secluded New Mexico ranch property, bizarrely a sort of prelude to where you both were ending up now. The phone hadn't stopped ringing for the past few weeks and since this work was taking up presidency, it was truth to be told that you hadn't really had time for each other and had been distant these past couple months as he diverted all his focus and intellect to the government and you hoped that after all this preparation, everything would settle somewhat now that he was at the ground level site. You felt trepidation but also excitement because this venture felt relevant and Robert was in his element with the company of like minded individuals all working towards a common goal. His vocation in teaching what he already knew of upper level physics had been boring him lately and he had told you multiple times he was haunted by the pressing need to be essential to the war effort outside of the confines of a classroom; he and his students had to make a real impact and change to the world, to this damned war. And if Robert wasn't the most ambitious, motivated, self-driven intelligent human being you'd ever met, then you'd be stumped to know who was right for the job; he could be dangerously dogged and was as loyal to this country as roots were to their corresponding corn stalks.

And now, starting today, he was the one man scientific director, a ruler really, of this militarized oasis in the middle of, well, nowhere.

Fractions of the place were still in progress, as evident by the trucks and the hammering with the occasional man lumbering past hauling construction boards on his shoulders. The Oppenheimers were still early in arrival, but everyone else on the project was supposed to be settled in by the end of the week. The house you and your husband were to live at was much better off than the cookie-cutter houses hastily put up suburban style along the man-made streets and it was tucked furthest away from the epicenter of town; a large spacious log and stone cabin (that had been formerly a boys' school) ranch style home surrounded by pine trees and shrubs along with a decent yard with that seemed ripe for cultivating a garden, and yet the home was modest and not overly luxurious; this was no vacation.

"The kitchen isn't finished?" you asked in surprise at once upon entry inside and Robert sighed, knowing you how much you had a penchant for cooking and he also knew that hosting gatherings here was going to be essential.

"I'll make sure they get it complete by the end of the week," he assured, resting a hand on the small of your back as you dropped down the luggage on the floor.

"Well, it is rather nice otherwise," you admitted, turning to him and smiling, but he couldn't quite return the gesture.

"Robert, what's the matter?" You reached to cup his cheek and he leaned into your touch before lifting up his own hand and placing it atop the one plastered to his face.

"I'm frankly worried how this is all going to work, how soon we can accomplish what we need to do. The death toll in Germany grows by the day, it may already be too late and..."

You placed a hand to his lips, shushing him with sadness.

"Please, shh, I'll have none of that talk when we just arrived in our new house. We are here now and that is the most important first step that matters towards any kind of accomplishment to your saving the world from this hellish war."

"I need to go do some oversight on the operations in town and at the laboratory," he announced abruptly, stepping back from your touch and picking up his briefcase as you nodded, moving with him to the front door.

"I'll see you tonight then. I think I'll make deviled chicken with a creamy coleslaw."

"I'm sure it will be delicious." He gave a tight smile and it was a somewhat ironic statement coming from the man who ate less than a thousand calories a day. That was one frustrating aspect about him that you had discovered when you had moved in with him back in California and realized he never had regular meals, and lately drinks and cigarettes were his main fuel. You hoped one of these days your passion for food would finally rub off on his aversion, but it probably wouldn't happen here with the increased supply rationing.

He disappeared out the door with his hat and you stood for awhile, taking in this new environment inside the main part of the house with its interesting architecture of high beamed ceilings and picture windows that allowed ample amounts of natural light at almost all hours. You spent most of the day unpacking and organizing, briefly going out to greet and visit with the other wives of top scientists, some you already knew, but others you had not met until today and you noticed that one of those you weren't familiar with was visibly pregnant... She was even younger than you and seeing her led you to wonder how quickly this little manufactured desert town was going to see a population boom in the next few years. Robert had brought up the concept of having children with you on more than one occasion, since you had already gone through one miscarriage (only in your first trimester and you never knew the sex of it, the doctor told you it could have been worse if you had carried to full term and lost the infant at birth, but it was still a gutting loss... Although you knew Robert was privately relieved, especially now since his work would likely leave no room in his heart to father an innocent, demanding child and all the burden would go to you alone) and there was the fact of possible infertility. The hardship of procreation probably ran in the family... Your mother had also miscarried, then had your premature brother who caught polio at two years old and perished weeks later, and then she herself had died during your own childbirth, leaving your father devastated and alone to care for you. You had a complicated, strained relationship early on with him and you wondered perhaps Freud was loosely right about the Oedipus complex since you always had such strong attractions to older men... but at least your father always tried to give you the best possible life he had with his wealth, which led you to moving out from your childhood home in New York across the country to pursue attending college in California in the field of psychology and medicine. You had been in the process of getting a degree in nursing, at least until Robert altered your life by his own ambitions and you had been forced to drop your studies temporarily to move out here with him, but you planned to be studying some by correspondence if the government allowed and also to be able to help out in the small hospital on site for an occupation.

To trim the excess fat off a long story short, it had been a bizarre fluke that you met and promptly fell in love with Robert... you were introduced on campus by friends who also knew Jean Tatlock, a budding psychiatrist and proudly Communist, and he had happened to take a bright shine to you. You considered him unattainable at first, a very well respected brilliant physics teacher with more life experience than you could have dreamed of... He was otherworldly at times, yet found grounding earth in your presence, but it would mystify you what exactly he found so desirable in you. You were as lovely as any other woman your age and smart, but you never thought of yourself as outstandingly intelligent when compared to the people he taught in academia, and not absolutely drop dead gorgeous in terms of prize worthy beauty. Perhaps the attraction, like Robert's scientific passion, was on a molecular scale and only bonded by invisible atoms making the illusion of being a solid relationship. Maybe it was as basic as the fact that you two were mutually compatible with each other and respectable of any differences, unlike his other fiery messy relationships with Jean and Katherine. Would you having a baby split that all apart? Personally, you weren't sure you were ready for any offspring yet and to be thrown into motherhood when you were still navigating having a successful marriage and you highly doubted "The Hill" (as the residents here were calling it) would be a healthy environment for children to thrive in, despite the efforts for a school and daycare, seeing that there were armed uniforms milling about all hours of the day and silent stress was already pervasive in every look, cough, and casual conversation you noticed through passing by. And it was only day one of, as Robert predicated, two to three years of hard work swathed in isolated secrecy.

As daylight began to fade fast and inevitably hand itself over to the darkness, you went back to the house to fry up the chicken. The stove was effective, although one burner seemed a little on the fritz, but half of the cabinetry was unfinished and the counter space was minimal.

Laying out the cream-colored napkins and the finest china you had brought packed securely in a box, you delicately set the table. Despite not having a birth mother to guide you through womanhood, you took to home keeping fairly well and religiously read the magazines, believing being married to an upper class man meant all these details and roles. But privately you also felt the crushing pressure and caught yourself wondering if you were immature to be in this mold. Robert never told you otherwise though and he would theoretically be the last man to stamp out a woman's sense of inner individuality, but you couldn't ignore the fact you, while willingly, still had to sideline your educational and career priorities to come support and live here with your husband. But it didn't matter too much, for you knew in your heart you could follow this man to the ends of the earth if you so desired.

For good ambient measure, you lit two pillar candles in the center of the tablecloth and just as you laid the food on a plate, you heard the front door crack open and the soft clomping of shoes.

Robert would never be the 'Honey, I'm home!' type of husband, yet he always managed to make an entrance regardless, especially now. His slender frame leaned into the doorway, hands crumpling his hat in front of his crotch and the candlelight flashed harrowing ghoulish shadows across his sharp cheekbones and dull pinkish lips.

"Well, what do you think?" you proposed, gesturing to the table spread when he didn't speak. He only gazed at your feminine features, his eyes full of desire that wasn't for the dinner you made, and when his mouth finally parted, he spoke in a husky voice, slowly coming closer and abandoning his hat to a chair, closing in on you.

"I'm sure it is very palatable, but I fear my hunger cannot be fulfilled by only earthly consumption," he confessed, ducking to kiss your cheek and moving his hands up to your neck, caressing your nape and moving his mouth to your lips, but you gently pushed him away, pressing into the fabric of his gray suit jacket.

"We should wait until after dinner," you told him earnestly, knowing what he wanted instead.

"Dessert, then?" he murmured, coming close again despite your light physical resistance and thumbing your bottom lip. You smiled and his arm snaked under your skirt and between your thighs, hand crawling upward to your panties and you breathed in, changing your mind.

"Maybe I can wait to eat after all."

His breath caught, a single finger inches from hitting your covered vaginal area, before he removed his teasing hand and pulled back, gripping your shoulders with conviction.

"Eat. You deserve it and you worked hard on preparing it, I can observe."

He bent down, gentlemanly drawing out a chair for you to sit down in, which you did, letting his hands linger at the neckline of your blouse before he walked around to the other side of the small round table and took a seat, rummaging out a cigarette from the pack in his shirt pocket and striking it up with his lighter, the smoke wafting in wispy trails around his head. You took a careful first bite, relishing in the flavor and spices (paprika in particular) as he sat there across from you, relaxing back in his chair and taking a drag on the cigarette, puffing out a sigh. You smirked, swallowing a forkful as he kept his gaze steady on you.

"You're making me self conscious, just sitting there surveying my appetite," you told him and he grinned, fiddling with the cigarette.

"I enjoy watching you eat. You are the very essence of life I see lacking in so much of this world."

You blushed in the warm glow of the candlelight, remaining humble.

"That is quite a compliment I don't know if I'm quite worthy of."

"You are, no jury would contradict me." He nodded sincerely as he smoked and you ate in silence for a few minutes before he then finally gave his cigarette a rest and poked at his food, politely taking a few bites of hot chicken and chewing at a snail's pace.

"How did today go?" you tentatively asked, finishing off your own chicken and moving to the rich, crunchy coleslaw.

"We will be making progress. Although I will always say, that General Groves is the most obstinate man with the exact deposition one would expect from a bulldog," he answered with a touch of bitter amusement.

"Should you be saying that? They're... not listening, are they?" you asked in a hushed paranoid voice, glancing around the room and knowing that the phone lines were tapped for sure, but you weren't certain they would go as far to place bugging devices hidden in the house.

"Relax, I could say much worse," Robert admitted nonchalantly with a harmless shrug and you allowed yourself a chuckle, mentally picturing a bulldog in a General's uniform. You took a bite of cabbage, changing the conversation to your side of social contacts in this limited town.

"I met with our neighbors and the other ladies today. They seem cordial and we have already exchanged pleasantries and plans for a party next weekend. I also offered to babysit one mother's two rambunctious little boys and spoke to the doctor at the medical facility about assistance there."

Robert nodded, gesturing with his empty fork.

"Keeping busy I see, but I'll have to arrange to let you in the office sometime instead of spending your days cooped up here and at the neighbors. I missed you and your insight already today."

"But you know I am not privy to everything you and your scientists are doing here..." you started to protest before he cut you off.

"I'm well aware, but I doubt a visit to my own office will cause a security uproar. You are my wife, Y/N. The reason most of the scientists came to Los Alamos in the first place was not solely the work, but because they could bring their wives, their families. We do our best work with moral and... sexual support." He raised his eyebrows and you felt a tingle run through you, a yearning for exactly what he was suggesting, but you had to finish the meal first.

Once you cleared most of your plate, he surprised you by taking the dishes and quickly rinsing the plates in the sink before making and pouring out his signature martinis. You knew Robert must be silently stressed however, for he only took one sip of his drink before he moved outside under the roof awning with his tobacco pipe, settling down on a folding chair and gazing out at the landscape and listening to the low mumble of military personnel mingling about on patrol as though this were a prison (which it was).

You joined him with a cigarette a few minutes later (you had never smoked a single cigarette until you married Robert and unconsciously adopted the habit, but you weren't much of a smoker when it made you cough, yet you kind of enjoyed the nicotine having that convenient effect of temporarily soothing your nerves) and positioned yourself down next to him, letting the cigarette dangle from your lips while folding your hands neatly on your knees.

His eyelids were appearing heavy and his head drooped, chin tucking down. You gave him a bumping nudge and he looked over at you, teeth clamped down on his pipe.

"Tired?" you wondered and he gave a noncommittal grunt, fixing his eyes back straight ahead. You noticed how still he was - calm - and it was a welcome change from the past few weeks where he had been wound up, constantly on the phone at one point or another and gone for many hours in meetings. But now that nearly everyone was all here, it was almost too tranquil... giving the illusion of calm before potential chaos.

"Oppie!" a young man's voice suddenly called out and he came jogging into view on the rock slabbed pathway, halting slightly when he saw you.

"Oh, good evening Ma'am," he greeted courteously with a squinted smile. You smiled in turn, nodding, and he focused to Robert, who gave a tilt of his pipe in acknowledgement and stood up stiffly.

"Any news I should know about, Feynman?"

The man paused, glancing to you warily.

"Is it about the nature of our work?" Robert asked sharply and Feynman shook his head.

"No, sir, it is not pertaining to that."

"Well, whatever it is you can say in front of my wife and I then."

"It's just a communicative matter. There was a phone call from a young woman asking for you earlier that was flagged in the office for personal matters concerning security. Groves is in a fit and I was to inform you tomorrow, but I thought I'd give fair warning and-"

"Then I will address it tomorrow," Robert interrupted and without further word, took your arm and marched you back inside the house. You shook off his touch and shut the door hard, spinning to address him.

"What the hell was that about?"

He closed his eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing his forehead while exhaling.

"There are intimate ghosts that continue to haunt me," he answered cryptically, taking refuge in the lounge and sipping his martini, but you had a hunch however who was the "ghost" because you knew her and you pointed a finger sternly at him.

"This is about Jean, isn't it? How does she even know to contact this location? And I thought you were all done with her, as you are with that Katherine!"

"I am, I swear to it. But she is different than any other woman I have been with before you, though. She can be... unstable and she may need to hear from me."

"She just wants your sex, that's all!"

"It's more complicated than that."

"You had nights with her while you were having nights with me during courting, I heard about it from our friends. It was still the sex that was the driving factor that she desired from you."

He looked down, unable to deny that entirely and you backed away, shaking your head.

"I can't believe this, the first day here and you can't shake those Communist ties trailing us."

"May I remind you that you considered fully joining once upon a time in the not so distant past? We met at such a social function, remember?"

You bit your lip and refused to meet his wide eyes staring a hole into you, for this was very well true.

"I did, but I overcame it. It's ridiculous to devote one's energy to an ideology and not to concrete, practical solutions. I was never devoted and absolutely do not consider myself a member. I never was."

This made Robert scowl, setting his glass down with a clink.

"It is my opinion that you should be free to choose your dogmas, if you want any at all that is. Belief is voluntary, but it shouldn't be a crime; we all deserve our wiggle room."

"Is that what she told you too?"

He licked his lips, stepping close so you were involuntarily arrested by his blue eyes boring into yours and his hand slid up your arm, finding your shoulder and the bra strap peeking out from the neckline of the blouse.

"I see you put one on," he muttered and you blinked, almost forgetting about that little detail and refusing to be seduced by his perceptivity.

"Yes, I did. My breasts are still sore from that uncomfortable car ride."

"It's a shame they are so contained now," he whispered, beginning to undo the buttons on the blouse and push his fingers into the crevice between your breasts, but you weren't quite having it after the unresolved discussion and the way he had been moments before.

"We are going to do this now? After what I just accused? And besides, I thought you were too preoccupied and planning to sit out there half the night smoking away by your lonesome while I go to bed."

"You make nights worth bearing awake, especially tonight." He shifted, groping at your breasts and you stumbled back into the wall, breathing in shallow gasps. He put a finger to his lips conspiratorially and hugged your body with his own, speaking discreetly.

"We should be quiet to not disturb any nearby neighbors."

"They can't hear us and besides, I'm sick of piping down," you whined, remembering the date nights out in the desert where he'd lay out a picnic blanket and fuck you right then and there with the horses grazing several feet away and the canopy of stars winking overhead. You'd make as much noise as merited, probably confusing the yipping coyotes far off in the distance.

"I think we can try to control our auditory impulses for one night," Robert whispered, hands going to your waist and tugging at your skirt.

"The bedroom," you gasped, rushing away from him and down the narrow hallway, twisting around as he chased you with a huff.

"Where is it?" you asked anxiously, opening a couple doors and unfamiliar to this section of the house in the minimal lighting, when he suddenly pushed you from behind into an empty room with a single large king bed.

"Only the best for us," he told you and you fell forwards onto it, kicking your heels off and quickly flipping around to your back as he loosened his tie, casting it off to the floor and unbuttoning his white shirt as you sat up, reaching needily for his belt buckle and he leaned over onto you now shirtless and when he met your lips in a frantic kiss, you then noticed the prudent stench of sweat on his skin that was disrupting his usual familiar smoky flavor mixed with cologne and aftershave.

"Wait," you ordered, pressing a hand up on his collarbone.

"What is it?" he implored worriedly, searching your expression for the solution.

"Bath, you should bathe. It's been a few days and this heat isn't helping. Hasn't anyone told you that you reek like a dog?"

He groaned mournfully, leaning back and unfastening the belt, tossing it to the floor with a clunk of metal.

"You won't let me have you until I do?" he asked sadly, but you had an idea.

"What if I join you?"

His eyes sparked at this notion and you moved off the bed, finding the bathroom across the hall. This house was one of only a few equipped with tubs instead of showers; they didn't call this street "Bathtub Row" for nothing.

Robert finished undressing in front of you, tugging down his trousers and boxers, springing forth an already ready penis.

"You're going to make me work for it tonight, aren't you?" he asked as he stepped into the large basin, turning on the faucet and letting out a gasp when a strong stream of water blasted onto his bare feet.

"J-Jesus Christ, it's freezing!" he exclaimed loudly with a sputter and frantically slamming a hand on the knob as you laughed from your spot by the sink, taking out your earrings and slipping off your small wristwatch.

"Get in, I was warned about the water supply around here possibly being fickle, even for us," he commanded as you finagled your skirt and blouse off with your bra and panties discarded to the bathroom floor before taking a leg over the tub and stepping in to sit down across from him, letting the tub fill up one third of the way as a sitz bath before awkwardly reaching around him to grab the bar of ivory soap from the dish and began to rub into his back with it.

"I should've put in a request for an even larger bath," he complained as you scrunched up your legs against his and scrubbed dutifully into the folds of his skin.

"It'll do fine, darling."

He took the soap and you both took turns lathering each other up, making frothy circles with the creamy soap and rinsing, the water streaming down into the tub again, flooding both yours and his soapy complexion, washing it all off down the drain before having it fill up again, this time three quarters of the way. The water now pleasantly lukewarm, Robert contorted his body to submerge his head under the waterline and he came up with a loud splash, his wiry dark hair flattening to a wet mess on his forehead as your own dampened and you watched the droplets of water collect on his somewhat pallid skin. He scooted closer, entangling legs, and couldn't resist a quick dart of a finger down to your vagina and you whimpered as he touched your clitoris, inserting into you and making you arch your back and buck your hips when he inserted another finger, exploring around your wet velvety walls.

"God, Robert..." you moaned, digging your nails into the grooves of his skin and up to his head, feeling the cropped soaked scalp and neck. He suddenly lightly shoved you against the side of the tub, pressing his mouth to yours and naturally winding his tongue in, kissing you passionately until the water temperature grew too cold and you shivered, glued to his body and burying your face into his wet shoulder.

"That was merely the first act, sweetheart," he whispered and you smiled, leaning back a few inches so he could get up and step out onto the bath mat, taking your hand as he did so to pull you up and guide you out. Robert grabbed a large towel from the rack and wound it around the both of you, letting his genitals press up against yours and you both stood there for a while, listening to the steady drip-drop-drip-drop-drip-drop of falling water to the flooring.

"I'm surprised you've held off this long," you murmured, feeling his rising erection in between your thighs.

"I truly can't wait any longer," he admitted urgently and the towel dropped with a flump to the floor, and with bodies still slick with water, you and him exited the bathroom to fumble to the bedroom and the blue light from the window illuminated the sheets, the ideal love making spot. He let you collapse on your back and easily came down on top, gripping the back of your neck and already plunging in to align, but you squirmed in dissatisfaction.

"So soon?" you whined, wanting to play with and taste him first, but he was antsy to get to the pinnacle.

"Your virtuous patience should be framed and put on the walls of this house, along with your divine beauty," he whispered, head moving down to your breasts and you dug your fingers into his bare back, running along the bones of his more pronounced spine.

"C'mon, Oppie, let's do this the fun way... Give it to me," you begged and he cringed slightly, but rolled over onto his side and you immediately found his stiff penis with your hands, clenching around it firmly and stroking. He moaned softly and it flexed in your grasp... He could be a decent size when engaged, which was impressive for his underweight body.

"But don't you dare let me go without seeding you inside," he warned as though you had all the control.

"That's the plan."

Wordlessly, you positioned yourself down to the head of his cock and licked off his pre-cum, the recognizable taste milky on your tongue and you sucked, bringing it halfway in and fondling his balls lovingly in the meantime. He was breathing heavily and you didn't linger long at his member however because you could tell he was getting very close and neither you nor him wanted him to release anywhere other than the intended internal target. Pulling out and licking your lips, you repositioned your body on top of his and sank down flat to his chest, and he thrusted his hips up to meet you, heaving in with a grunt. You winced at the initial entry; you were always so sensitive down there (especially since the miscarriage), and he steadily kept at it, probing in further without being too rough.

"Fuck..." you breathed with a cry and he came forward to smooch your cheek as you mounted your hands on his shoulders and he pumped in and out, shaking the entire bed.

"That's exactly what I'm doing, my love," he breathed, keeping an intense gaze trained on you.

"Robert..." you groaned, letting him push as far as he could go until the pleasure was overloading and you felt his hot wet spurt of cum hit, eliciting a long moan from him, his slender frame shuddering beneath you. He closed his eyes and you kept a firm clench around his shaft, not ready to have him pull out yet. Gasping, you began rocking back and forth with ecstasy, your insides stretched to their limit and he seemed to know you were struggling to hold him.

"I'm coming out," he muttered and gently pulled back wetly so he wasn't balls deep in you anymore and then you repositioned to lightly ride him, which was your favorite position, and you bounced up and down on his upright full cock, orgasming a few more times as he watched your euphoria in rapture, so proud he alone could make you like this over and over until you were out of air and exhausted, collapsing to the side of the bed and feeling the sheets very damp with bodily juices.

Robert spooned you from behind, arms draped over to dangle his fingers on your swollen nipples and you matched his breathing in rhythm. Every time was somehow better than the last... Sex with him was as natural as breathing and you appreciated the consistent chemistry that you worried would have faded after a couple years of marriage due to what you'd heard about stress and boredom destroying a couple's sex drive, but Robert was not a boring person in the least sense of the term.

"We should do this every night," you offered hopefully and he chuckled.

"And make me the most lucky, tired man in this whole community? I'd be up for that, although it'll be a wonder if I get any work done at all when I've got this memory lingering with me tomorrow," he replied and you heard the smile in his tone, but with it came the bitter resurgence of the likely phone call from another woman that was bile in the back of your throat and even though he supposedly broke it off with her before you got married, you knew he had stayed in contact and you couldn't help but wonder how he fucked her and if it was comparable to what you and him had with each other, since she seemed to want him so badly. That wasn't to mention "Kitty" who he had insisted on still being "friends" with. A bit depressed and irritated, you pushed away his hands off your breasts and turned back over to face him in the dimness that made even those prominent blue colored eyes of his too muddled to see into.

"How did you become the most desired physicist to women in the whole country?" you asked softly.

"Good genes?" he guessed in amusement and you shook your head, not requiring a punchline.

"You're known to be a womanizer, neurotic, eccentric, a tad arrogant, and yet everybody seems to want you, including me as your own wife. Tell me, why did the universe give you such magnetized gifts?"

He gave a subtle lift of his shoulders with a small lazy smile as you laid your head on the pillow, fending off fatigue.

"Why was Aphrodite the one chosen to be blessed with such beauty and fertility? Why are we the way that we are? There are some matters of the human being to be unfounded in the definitive and everything is relative." He sat up with his back against the headboard and proceeded to light another cigarette and you sleepily watched the hazy smoke drift off above the bed towards the ceiling. He sighed, setting it to rest in the ashtray on the nightstand and wrap his lean arm around your body, drawing you close into his side.

"You are my goddess, Y/N. You are the only woman I want to return home too, always. Don't you know that?" he murmured into your hair and you vaguely nodded.

"I do, but I also know you're not always the most faithful man."

He lifted his hand and touched his ring finger to yours, matching the simple gold bands you both shared as two united.

"I married you out of good faith and the vows we pledged might have well been written in stone in the language of the gods along on the pulmonary arteries flowing as though a river into my heart," he told you with no trace of doubt, but you knew the whole story that didn't need flourishing.

"Only because the two other women fell through on commitment - although tonight I suspect they both presumably still want you - and one was already hitched, so she was having an affair by being with you and wouldn't divorce unless you happened to get her pregnant. I just happened to be the most available, the convenient bride with no attached strings, even though everyone said it was abnormally soon and I am too young," you recounted bitterly and he frowned, tilting your chin upward.

"Is that how you see it? I have never fallen for someone as fast and as hard as I did for you. I still feel the way I did when I laid a glimpse on you at Mary Ellen Washburn's party."

You smiled despite yourself and he bent to kiss the top of your head as you snuggled into his chest, absentmindedly fondling his moist cock with your fingers.

"I do love you beyond comprehension, Y/N," he whispered and you glanced up, meeting his look.

"I do too and I want to believe I always will, until the end of our existence. I am not those other women and I do not want to become so."

A solemn seriousness grew over him and he closed his eyes as you felt tears suddenly spike and an unexplainable terrible sense of dread came over you.

"Promise me one thing, Robert." You paused, taking a deep breath.

"Promise me that whatever happens to us in this world, in this setting, that you will always find a way home and whatever we face, we face together."

He gave a single nod, but you sensed reluctance in the way a muscle in his jaw made a minor spasm.

"I will always do my best."

"Alright," you resigned and he sighed, relaxing back and settling down into the sheets, further roping his arms around you and you burrowed your face into his chest, feeling his light hair follicles tickle your forehead. Tomorrow - and the future for that matter - was uncertain, but at least tonight was building up to a promise of solid sureness, a safeness, bonding those atoms of love again.

Love, or the feeling of it, was a lot like quantum mechanics; essentially invisible to the naked eye and complicated, but the one difference was that it was unmeasurable. No amount of numbers or equations could add up the real affection you felt for your husband, even when the waters became too choppy to be comfortable and it was far from perfect. You just had to cement the fact that you were Mrs. Oppenheimer and that wasn't going to change anytime soon, any disruptive external factors be absolutely damned to hell.

Thanks for reading, expect a little drama for chapter 2... And I do not have a full outline to every part of this fic, so please be patient as I find spare time to work on it and upload. I always appreciate any likes, reblogs, and feedback ❤️

*If anyone would be interested in being tagged, drop a comment and I'll make a tag list for the next part!*

[floralcyanide]

𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 - 𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧!𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫

cillian murphy!oppenheimer x reader

DISCLAIMER: this is fanfiction. it isn’t real. Oppenheimer is a real person, however Cillian!Oppenheimer is not. he is a character. if you have something bad to say just keep it in the drafts (:

“let's all go play Nagasaki, we can all get vaporized. hold my hand, let's turn to ash. I'll see you on the other side.” - 137 by Brand New

warnings: spoilers for Oppenheimer, descriptions of nuclear bomb/ explosion, fear

word count: 1316

author's note: I love Cillian so much, and he did so good in Oppy!! I just had to write about it. please keep in mind there are spoilers in this, don't read if you haven't seen the movie. also, there's only like, one other fic on here for Cillian!Oppy which is sad but I'm sure there'll be more soon. (:

masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

For the last few nights, Robert has woken up abruptly from his sleep. He’ll sit upright and pant, trying his best to catch his breath. It alarms you every time he does this despite him acting like it didn’t happen. But you know he doesn’t go back to sleep after because you feel him toss and turn until morning. Test day is tomorrow, and you can feel Robert’s nervous energy radiating off him. This was it- this was the epitome of his life’s work, and if it failed, he would be lost. And you’re torn between wanting it not to work for humanity’s sake and wanting it to work for Robert’s. 

You have worked alongside your husband for many years despite the pushback from society. But he knows your intelligence and insisted you be involved in the Project. He refused to have anything to do with it unless you assisted him. Lieutenant Groves reluctantly agreed, but he still knew just how capable you were to help with the Project. 

You’re very much a housewife outside of work, though. Despite being a knowledgeable person, you still have duties at home. You’re busy folding laundry when Robert exits the bedroom after getting ready for a meeting. It was the last one before tomorrow’s events. Robert doesn’t say much to you before bidding his farewell and heading out. It wasn’t abnormal for him to mumble a goodbye before putting his hat on and leaving without anything else said. He was reserved unless it was necessary to say something. That’s one thing you admired about Robert; he could be cynical and sarcastic yet humble and a man of few words. 

You would attend a later meeting that evening, so it’s possible you may not see Robert until bedtime. You aren’t worried about him not kissing your son goodnight or missing dinner. You mostly worry he won’t sleep enough.

Later in bed, you and Robert both lay on your backs, staring at the ceiling wordlessly. 

“How are you feeling?” you suddenly ask, breaking the eerie silence.

Robert opens his mouth before shutting it again, shrugging.

You sigh, turning on your side to face him, “I can feel you have nightmares, you know.”

Robert cuts his eyes toward you before giving in and rolling over to face you as well, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you furrow your brow, “There’s nothing to be sorry for. What we’re- what you’re doing is incredibly stressful and world-changing. It’s normal to be anxious over it.”

“That’s exactly why I’m anxious.”

“Which part?”

“The world-changing part.”

You’re quiet for a moment before answering, “What do you dream about?”

Robert’s eyes study yours closely, searching for any instance of potential recoil from what he’s about to tell you. He searches even though he knows he won’t find it because Robert knows that you’d never leave him no matter what. Even if his nightmares were incomparable to even the most descriptive horror stories. What’s worse is that Robert knows no one has ever seen the results of a bomb the magnitude of the one he’s created. So it’s up to his imagination. And his imagination is one of grotesque imagery that he hopes won’t come to fruition.

“Death,” Robert says plainly, with a cold look, “Destruction. Everything in my dreams is obliterated by fire and disintegrates into ash, and even the ash turns into nothingness.”

You purse your lips, gently reaching your hand up to touch Robert’s cheek, running your thumb over his cheekbone.

“I don’t fear for me or for us. I fear for our children,” Robert gives a watery laugh, “And the world they’ll have to grow up in knowing that such weaponry exists.”

You tuck Robert’s head into your chest, “You are merely the creator, darling. You have no control over how they use your creation. And I know that worries you, but you cannot do much about it.”

“I know. You’re right. But the fact I’m the one responsible for such a destructive device,” Robert trails off.

“Your creation is for science exploration and nothing more,” you say, “Remember that tomorrow.”

When you awake at two in the morning to prepare for the test, Robert has already gotten up from bed. You figure he didn’t sleep and has already made his way down the street to prepare. You hurriedly get dressed, grab your son, and walk out the front door. You let your neighbor, one of the wives of another scientist, watch over your son while you and Robert are away. A vehicle has been sent to your home, probably by Robert, to retrieve you. The ride is quiet and bumpy. You figure they would take you to the main hall, but they keep driving into the desert. Everyone must already be at Trinity. 

Trinity is alight, with people who worked on the project scurrying around to find the perfect spot to watch the explosion. You climb off the vehicle and run to the tent where Robert resides with the others. A relieved smile grows on his face when he sees you walk in.

“I didn’t want to see this without you,” he says, pulling you in for a tight hug.

“Did you sleep at all?” you mutter into his shoulder.

“Unfortunately, no. But sleep can come later,” Robert says, returning to the detonation station. 

You cross your arms and walk around aimlessly, watching the scientists scramble to take their places and put sun shades on.

“Ninety minutes,” Robert says from behind you.

You turn around to look at him, a half smile growing on your face, “I’m proud of you.”

“And I’m proud of you, too. Without your suggestions, we may not be here,” Robert plays with a loose strand of your hair.

“I doubt that,” you chuckle, “Your brainpower alone has done the job.”

“I’ll see you on the other side,” Robert says.

After a little under an hour and a half of checking that everything was perfect and prepared, everyone took their places where they wanted to view the test. You’re next to Robert, with goggles on your face that match his. Both of you have ports to get a fantastic view. The countdown begins.

Everyone becomes dead silent as the bomb is detonated. The flash causes you to gasp, your eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness despite the goggles. When the light subsides, you see a mushroom cloud of nothing but fire beginning to rise to the atmosphere. Beside you, Robert grabs hold of your hand and grasps it tightly. 

“Now I am become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds,” Robert says with a haunting tone.

You remove your goggles along with everyone else as you squint against the harsh brightness. Before you is the most terrifying, breathtaking thing you’ve ever seen. A firestorm that is capable of mass destruction. A scientific miracle. But before anyone can relax, the sound of air rumbling and rushing toward the tent is heard. The sound of the explosion hits the viewing base violently. The blast wave smacks everyone as they brace themselves against the high wind. Once the hot gust of air subsides and the explosion tapers down, everyone begins to cheer and clap.

“We did it,” Robert says in disbelief before he looks up at you, “We actually did it.”

You nod, smiling at him proudly before engulfing him in a hug.

“I have destroyed the world,” Robert whispers in your ear, and you pull away to see an odd flash of emotion cross his face.

“You haven’t,” you whisper back, as people begin to approach your husband, “But you’ve changed it forever.”

As colleagues surround Robert and move him outside, you remain in the tent for a moment. You replay the mushroom-looking explosion in your head. You begin to ponder what the Manhattan Project’s creation will do for the world. And whether it’s good or bad.

Either way, everyone has been forever changed.

[lacontroller1991]

My Lips on Yours (J. Robert Oppenheimer x F!Reader)

Main Master List || Misc Master List

requested by @forgottenpeakywriter :can you write something where reader and oppie have been dating for a while and they share their first kiss

DISCLAIMER: This is clearly based off of Cillian Murphy's Oppenheimer. If this bothers you just scroll on.

Warnings: Language, kissing, drinking, smoking, slight mention of sex

Word Count: 1.3

----------

You can remember the day like it was yesterday. Robert had shown up to your house, bouquet of flowers in his hands and a formal invitation asking you out. You, of course, had instantly said no. Being close family friends with Lawrence gives you a certain insight on some individuals, including Robert Oppenheimer. Lawrence had explicitly told you ‘stay away from him,’ but it’s hard to avoid Oppenheimer when he’s everywhere you go. 

Even though you told him no the first time he asked you out, it sure didn’t stop him. He showed up to your doorstep again, a new bouquet of flowers and had asked the same question ‘would you like to have dinner with me’, to which you again said no. 

It took almost two weeks of him constantly asking you day by day for you to say yes, despite your friends all warning you. 

By the time you started dating you had to admit to yourself, it was honestly not that bad. In fact, you and him went on another, and another, and another until almost three months have passed. 

Despite having dated for a few months now there's still something that you and him haven’t done. You haven’t kissed each other. Don’t be mistaken, you and him have had sex. Lots of it. But you and Robert have not kissed each other on the lips and it’s honestly irritating.

Seeming to pick up on your annoyance, your colleague looks up at you from across the table in the library. “Something the matter?”

You turn your attention to your classmate and let out a huff. “Just annoyed.”

“About?”

You close your book and set it down onto the table. “It’s been over three months and we still haven’t kissed. It’s just been bothering me. Why hasn’t he kissed me? Did I do something wrong? Am I unappealing? Is he just using me? What am I doing wrong?” You place your head in your hands in frustration as your friend flicks their eyes above you to see a pair staring back before the person scurries away. 

“You’re doing nothing wrong. Maybe he’s just not ready for that kind of commitment.” Your friend tries to soothe you but it’s a hard feat.

“That wouldn’t make sense though. We’ve done things. He kisses me everywhere except my face. It just makes me feel like he’s using me for my body and that he doesn’t really care for me.” Your friend nods in response, rubbing a soothing hand on your back.

“I’m sure he does. He’s just weird like that. You knew that when you started dating him.” The comment makes you laugh slightly as you wipe away a stray tear before opening your book back up.

“Lawrence did try to warn me.”

“That he did. Let’s get back to studying.”

----------

“Dr. Oppenheimer?” The sound of his name being called stirs Oppenheimer’s concentration from his desk of papers and causes him to look up to see Alvarez standing in the doorway, awkwardly shifting his weight.

“What is it Alvarez?”

“Can I tell you something that might be awkward?” Robert motions to the seat in front of his desk and takes a puff from his pipe, waiting for Alvarez to continue. “So I know you’re seeing (Y/N) but I feel like you should know that (Y/N) is getting frustrated that you guys haven’t… kissed.” Silence.

“Where did you hear this?” 

“I overheard her telling this to her friend.” Robert pushes away from his desk and places the papers in his briefcase, exhaling a plume of smoke before snuffing out his pipe.

“Thank you, Alvarez, for letting me know. You can see yourself out.” Alvarez quickly nods and rushes away, cheeks flushed from the embarrassment of the topic at hand. The minute Alvarez gets out of sight Robert leans back into his chair, staring off to the distance. If you’re bothered by him not kissing you, he wonders what else you’re bothered with.

----------

Sharp knocks on the door disrupt you from your studying. Getting up from your seat you stride towards the door, swinging it open to reveal Robert on the other side, flowers in his hands. “Good evening darling.”

“Robert? I wasn’t aware that you’re coming. Do we have a date tonight?” He brushes past you and sets the flowers on your doorway stand before hanging up his coat and hat while you watch on in confusion.

“Do I need to have an appointment to see you?”

“Well, no, but I also wasn’t expecting you. If I’d known that you were coming I would’ve cooked something.” He waves his hand and steps further into your house towards the kitchen, instantly fixing himself and you a martini. 

“Nonsense. I can make us something.” Now you’re really confused. You have never heard of Robert cooking. In fact, you’re not even sure if he knows how to, given the fact that he’s so thin. You’ve always just assumed that his diet is cigarettes, martinis, coffees and the occasional cookie that he would always steal from your lunch box or even Lawrence’s. 

“Ok, Robert. What are you doing here?” He turns around and hands you the martini, a smile on his face as he takes your arm and guides you to the couch. 

“I heard something and I want to run it by you.” His admission has your heart racing. What on earth could it be that he just had to show up to your house? Nodding your head for him to continue, his blue eyes pierce yours. “I heard that you expressed some discourse about the fact that we haven’t properly kissed.”

The comment made you spit out your drink. “What?”

“Alvarez overheard you telling your friend that you’re upset that we haven’t kissed properly, so I’m here to change that.” Why this arrogant bastard. 

“You’re a jerk Robert,” you move to stand up but he grabs your wrist and pulls you back down, setting your drinks of the coffee table before taking your face in his hands. 

“No, no. Hear me out.” You want to pull away but you also want to hear him out. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you, I just didn’t know when a good time would be or if you even wanted to.”

“Let me counter that point. Why wouldn’t I? We’ve been seeing each other for months now and we still haven’t done something so mundane.” He shakes his head, one thumb running over your cheek while the other hand pets your hair.

“I don’t want it to be mundane. I want it to be magical. With the… parameters… of our relationship I never knew when the good time was to kiss you, but now I know.”

“You could’ve always asked, you know?” He chuckles in response, his eyes staring into yours as your bodies move ever so closer together. 

“Well (Y/N). May I kiss you?”

“No.” Your answer is a sharp slap to Robert’s face and he begins to pull away but your hands reach out to his face. “Of course you can, you silly idiot.” He smiles like an idiot before closing the gap between the two of you, your lips molding together like they were meant for each other. Your hands grab onto his blazer and hold him close as his tongue sweeps along your bottom lip asking for access. Opening your mouth, you let out a little whimper as he explores you. There’s now a tangible layer of intimacy between you and Robert now and it’s dizzying. You feel lightheaded, like you’re drunk. Maybe you’re drunk on him, but whatever it is, it is way better than you imagined.

The two of you remain in each other’s embrace for a minute before he pulls away, his forehead resting against yours as the two of you try to catch your breaths. “How was that?”

“That was… something else.” He chuckles, his thumb tracing your swollen parted lips. “Do it again.”

“Now that I know, I don’t intend to stop.”

[floralcyanidee]

“you shouldn’t write fanfic about historical figures”

hey bestie, wait until you hear about Paradise Lost by John Milton

[elk96]

Moodboard for my fic "Connection"

[todayontumblr]

Tuesday, December 19.

This cat looks like Cillian Murphy

I mean

@important-animal-images

[darkacademiablues]

Cillian Murphy in the see through shirt for Oppenheimer.

People died.

I’m people.

[mrs-bond]

Great ending. So happy that the reader had two kids with him. Loved how they loved on each other. Glad that Kitty and the reader got along finally. I hated to see Robert go, but at least his true love was by his side when he died. Nice of the reader to keep the memories with him alive by reading those Greek myths. I see at the end the reader died cuz she's in heaven seeing her true love Robert. Happy to see they're reunited together in heaven again.

AMERICAN PROMETHEUS AND HIS ATHENA - EPILOGUE

Pairing: J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Indentifying! Reader Summary: Looking up at the chalkboard, you see him. He’s Dr.Oppenheimer, but to you, he’ll always be Robert or Oppie. Word Count: 2.7k Warnings: Warnings are very spoiler, so well...be warned! Cancer, death, alcoholism, mentions of suicide (not by main characters and is mentioned once at the end), and overall a very bittersweet ending. Beware! This is in fact sad! Notes: for real, the end? it's here. not going to lie, i did get a little emotional writing this. the epilogue is loosely inspired by american prometheus, which made me cry in it's epilogue, just as it is doing to me now. this story has been such a rollercoaster, and I've had an amazing time writing it. thank you all for the amazing support, you guys really rock. I'm starting school soo and I'll be busy, but I'll get back into writing once i find my routinr. i hope you can enjoy this conclusion, and as a warning, apologies in advance! I love you all very much, and thank you so much for all the love! Taglist: @forgottenpeakywriter @queenshelby @chloriine36 @kodzuvk @amanda08319 Taglist | Masterlist

Marriage Certificate

Jurisdiction: Charlottesville, Virginia

Certificate Number: MCS123456789

Date of Marriage: June 1st, 1955

This is to certify that on the aforementioned date, in accordance with the laws of the City of Charlottesville, the following individuals entered into marriage:

Groom:

Name: Julius Robert Oppenheimer

Date of Birth: April 22, 1904

Residence: 91 Olden Lane

Bride:

Name: (Y/n) (Y/m/n) (Y/l/n)

Date of Birth: (Y/dob), 1921

Residence: 105 Ivy Dr

Marriage Ceremony:

Date and Time: June 1st, 1955, at 5:00 PM

Officiant: Dr. Allen Hill

Title: Authorized Officiant

Witnesses:

Name: (y/b/n) (y/b/m/n) (y/l/n)

   Address: 10 Pennsylvania Avenue

Name: Hatomi Haruka Yamamoto-Bell

   Address: 600 Dittmar Oaks  

Under penalty of perjury, the undersigned parties declare that the information provided above is true and correct to the best of their knowledge.

Signatures:

_____________________________      _____________________________

Julius Robert Oppenheimer                (Y/n) (Y/m/n) (Y/L/N)

Groom's Signature                                     Bride's Signature

_____________________________

Dr. Allen Hill

Officiant's Signature

_____________________________      _____________________________

 (y/b/n) (y/b/m/n) (y/l/n)                              Hitomi Haruka Yamamoto-Bell

Witness's Signature                                Witness's Signature

Seal: City of Charlottesville, Virginia

–

You and Robert married the same day of your graduation at UVA on June 1st, 1955. You let your parents know about your marriage and plans to move to Princeton. It took them time to process that you married your Physics Professor, but they accepted it once they met Robert and were impressed. They also enjoyed that you were only a train ride away from the city of Princeton. 

Robert kept to his promise of no more games. He stayed loyal and steadfast and was honest and loving to you. He doted on and adored you, showering you with both affection and gifts. You had kept all of the gifts he had given you at Berkeley, occasionally using the new perfumes if you couldn’t look for all of the new floral scents Robert had bought for you. Despite you both being busy with your jobs at Princeton and the local private high school, you two found time for each other. 

Your time together reminded you of those Friday study sessions at Berkeley, where you were a young girl and Robert was your professor who had been struck by “one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen”. Robert had helped you become a woman, and despite how many times you and he tried to move, you always fell back to each other. 

With your newfound marriage, you and Robert could be in public together. Of course, there was scrutiny and controversy of the age gap and both of your involvement with the Manhattan project. Still, Robert could hold your hand, and you could lean on his shoulder. Sure, there stares, but those could easily be ignored. At the many lavish dinners you attend, Robert would put his hand on your hip and whisper into your ear nothing but sweet yet dirty thoughts. You’d look at all of the judgemental onlookers, and simply hugged Robert, brightly smiling at them. 

It was one of those nights. It was like your Friday nights, but extended; talking about the day full of academics, making a delicious dinner, cleaning up said dinner, fucking either by the fire or on the bed, and lazing in each other’s embrace. 

You had your back curled to Robert as he held you. That one night, he let go for a short second, before you felt a cold metal on your neck and the sound of a clink of a clasp. 

“I saw this, and it made me think of you and the Bhagavad Gita,” Robert explained as he moved your hair back forward, “Do you like it?”

The necklace was a short gold chain with a pendant of the seven Chakras. You run your hand hovering the expensive gold and gems inside, smiling to yourself. You turn to Robert and place a peck on his lips, admiring the beautiful necklace. 

“It’s beautiful, Robert. Thank you, thank you, thank you-”

You repeat this sentence over and over as you wrap your arms around his neck, throwing him down to the bed and decorating his body with kisses. Ultimately, the two of you end of lovemaking once again, and remind yourselves to rewash the sheets. Again. 

The next week, you are forced to rewash your sheets as Robert, per usual, fucks you after the University of Washington last minute declines his offer to speak at their commencement ceremony. Like old times, you claw your nails down his neck and scream his name until he finishes inside of you, making your belly feel all warm. You smile and hope, for once, there’s some good news for the future continuation of you and Robert.

It takes many tries, but on January 5th of 1958, you give birth to Thaïs Jackie Oppenheimer. She’s a healthy baby girl. You nearly died giving birth, but it was worth seeing her curl into Robert’s arms as if it were a natural instinct. Even as a child, she’s got the blue Oppenheimer’s eyes and your fiery personality. After Thaïs birth, you remained in the ICU for a while. In a window outside of your room, you would see Robert in the distance as he overlooked Thaïs bed, talking to her and promising her nothing but the world. In your recovering pain, it made you cry. 

Eventually, you returned back to work as a school-teacher, splitting your time with the au-pair while taking care of Thaïs. She’s a very vocal child, and like Robert, highly precocious. By the time she’s six, she can name every rock and flower in your garden by their scientific name. Not to mention, she can hold more basic conversation in Latin and Greek than you, thanks to Robert and his bedtime stories of Ancient Latin and Greek myths. 

Dinner is a family affair. As the three of you all cook, you find it hard to keep up with Robert and Thaïs’s long conversation that switches between Greek and Latin, ranging from what to next in meal prep, the rocks Thaïs’s collected at school today, and what toy Robert will buy her next if she behaves. You can follow the basics, but you smile and keep yourself, cooing and kissing your newborn baby boy, Elias. 

Each night, Robert worships you like you’re a goddess. As you read his book recommendations, he decorates your body with kisses and calls you his “temple”, thanking you for being the Athena to his Prometheus and giving him life. You could not be happier. 

But bliss is temporal, not everlasting. 

First, it’s the apparent hoarseness. Robert thinks it’s cold, but that’s until he’s coughing up blood two weeks later. Also, with the neck and ear pain, you grow worried, and unfortunately, your worst fears come to light. Robert’s heavy smoking did not help his case, and in late 1965, he was diagnosed with throat cancer. 

You had quit smoking a long time ago, long before the birth of your children, but Robert continued. Since you had met him, he had always been a smoker no matter what, falling from a cigarette pack to multiple pipes a day. The cancer is infectious and both of you know it’s in fact very bad, and it’s only going to continue to get worse but not fast, but slowly and painfully. Robert has a persistent cough in which he tries to hide from you and the children but fails to. His skin becomes as gray as his thinning hair, and he’s losing weight faster than you can count. 

After his diagnosis, there are many sleepless nights between you and Robert. You are both worried about each other in your own ways. One particular night, Robert sits on the edge of the bed. The bones in his back are visible, and you feel like you can see the bones in his back. He’s handsome, but so terribly sick all at once. Crawling from under the sheets, you quietly crawl toward him and hug him from behind. You sob into his shoulders, and he grabs your arms.

“Stop worrying,” He reassures you as he kisses your shaking palm, “You’ll be okay, love.”

“Robert, stop. It’s not about me. It’s about you,” You sob uncontrollably, “I’m scared, Robert. Not for you, for me.”

That night, Robert holds you and tells you that things will improve. He doesn’t promise it, though. 

In late 1966, Robert underwent surgery, radiation, and chemotherapy, which were all unsuccessful. 

Robert has done so much for you and protected you from so much. Now, it’s your turn to do so. 

When he breaks the news that, realistically, he’s going to die within the next six months, you and his plan to bring Thaïs and Elias to Saint John. 

Robert can’t do the things he used to do. Robert is still as handsome as he always has been, but he’s more frail and sickly looking, a shell of the man he once was. The only thing he can do is spend time with you and his children, valuing his time, which is running out faster than he can count. He builds wooden lodges with houses with Elias, collects seashells and rocks with Elias, and lies in your lap as you read him all of the old books and Greek myths the two of you used to read together. 

Robert tries to make you a Martini one night, but he struggles in the kitchen. A glass drops and you run in, to find both of his hands shaking. He confesses to you that he can’t keep his hands still, and he can’t stop apologizing after. You smile, holding back tears, telling him it’s okay. 

You, Robert, and your family soon return to Princeton. At that time, you call and invite people who are close to you, Robert, so he gets the chance to say goodbye. Kitty and his children come by. They're as devastated as you are, but they thank you. Kitty, for the first time, cries in front of you, and says you have a beautiful family; thanking you for taking care of Robert. You break down in front of her, and Kitty hugs you. 

It’s clear that Robert’s in his final days of life. He can’t remember or speak coherently as he used to. Your children are very aware of this, and you prepare them for the worst that is to come. 

It’s nighttime, and Robert’s in bed, saying he’s going to read a book that you’d enjoyed. You make him peppermint tea downstairs to help him fall asleep. As you make the tea, you can hear Robert’s horse voice as he talks to their children. If you bend your ear further, you can hear his voice shaking as he tells his children that he loves them more than anything, and to treat you, their mother, with nothing but love and respect. 

You go upstairs with the tea you’ve prepared for Robert. He thanks you and smiles as if he’s seen you for the first time, refusing to let go of your hand with a weak grasp. As you change quickly into your pajamas, you jump into bed with him and hold him carefully, not wanting to hurt him. 

“Sweetling?” He says your term of endearment in a sing-song voice. You look up, fully attentive. 

“Yes, Oppie?”

With a trembling hand, he holds out an aged navy book with gold print; Hades and Persephone. 

“Can you please read this to me?”

Once you grasp the book, tears begin to form in your eyes. As much as you want to cry, you hold your tears back and nod your head. Leaning against Robert, you open to the book’s preface and see all of his annotations inside. Some of them are about you. You’re about to start reading when Robert, in his classic fashion, grabs your hand and holds it to his chest. 

“Y/n?”

You don’t look over as you close your eyes. 

“Yes, Robert?”

“I love you, y/n”

A tear falls down your cheek, but you don’t let Robert see it. 

“I love you too, Robert.”

That night, Robert falls into a coma. Three days later, he dies. He was sixty-two years old. 

Once you have the funeral and dump his ashes into the US Virgin Islands water, you and your two children move down to Williamsburg, Virginia. You don’t want to be in Princeton anymore, as if it reminds you of Robert. Your family recommends you move back to New York City or Charlottesville, but you refuse; they all have Robert’s name written on it. 

In Williamsburg, you grieve heavily at losing your first and only love, but motherhood keeps you busy. You get a job as an assistant professor at William and Mary, and just as you usually do, you cope with the pain until it becomes numb, losing yourself in your work and children. It’s what Robert would want for you. 

Each night, after you make dinner by yourself, you go to your room and drink, reading all of Robert’s books from his reading list that shaped his mind. 

One night, you’re drunk and sad. You’re primarily drunk at night, hazy and unaware, but some nights you are sad, not always. A ten-year-old Elias walks into your room, asking why you are crying so much. 

For a second, you think he’s Robert with his big blue eyes and puff of dark hair, which makes you sob even more. 

After Robet’s death, Kitty writes to you frequently to ensure you’re doing okay alone with the kids. You write back, and in her final years, the two of you build a friendship until her untimely death in 1972. You speak at her funeral and say in your speech that you hope she’s reunited with Robert. 

Thaïs and Elias both grow into fine adults. Thaïs goes to study chemistry and history at Davis while Elias studies nuclear physics at Princeton, which you know would make Robert proud of both of them. 

Toni, Oppenheimer’s daughter from Kitty’s marriage, committed suicide in 1977. Robert gave her the ranch in New Mexico. Peter refuses to take it, so it’s given to Thaïs. For Thanksgiving and Christmas, you meet Thaïs and Elias there to celebrate the holidays, taking them horseback riding to explore the beauty of New Mexico that Robert once showed to you. 

Thaïs and Elias grow old, and have their own lifes. They stop visiting for holidays, as they are preoccupied with their own families and affairs. You never get angry at either of them for doing so; it’s human nature. 

And so you retreat back to the island of St.John, where your beach house is. It holds both fond and sad memories of Robert, especially within his last years. It’s probably not the best idea if you are out there alone, but you manage to keep yourself distracted with the television, books, and old photos surrounding you. You keep yourself busy and entertained, only getting sad at night about Robert. 

One night, you’re reading on Robert’s old chair. There’s a peppermint tea that’s untouched by your side, along with a fully drinken bottle of wine. With a blanket over you, you read Robert’s old, annotated copy of Hades and Perspehone. You’ve read it a thousand times by now, but the story never gets old to you. It will never get old for you. 

As you reach the end, in which Persephone stays with Hades, your eyes begin to feel heavy. Your hands and fingers feel tingly and heavy. With your eyelids feeling droopy and breathing feeling short, you rest your head back and into the chair. Everything slowly goes back. You're not sad to be going; infact, you’re happy. 

Sometime later, you awaken in a hazy world. It’s an alternate reality since you feel much younger, sitting at a desk, and looking down at your book; it’s an introductory book to Physics with your navy notebook, your name taped on the side. 

Looking up at the chalkboard, you see him; Robert. He’s Dr.Oppenheimer, but to you, he’ll always be Robert or Oppie. He’s got his cigarette in hand, and those damn blue eyes that you loved. Oh, how you’ve missed them. He looks directly at you in the class, and you directly at him. There are people talking, and while they are close, their voices are nothing but mindless mutters.

Robert smiles at you.

Your heart skips a beat. 

You sigh and smile right back at him. At last, you’re home. 

[thevelvetvampyre]

Mental Foreplay- Tom Buckley x Student Reader

Summary: Harbouring a supernatural secret, your professors assistant reveals he’s psychic as the sound of your filthy thoughts towards him pollute his subconscious and distract him from teaching as normally as a clairvoyant can.

Warnings: overall smut + adult content, p in v, oral (f receive), he watches u, he cums fast, mindreading, age gap (reader college aged, he’s like 40), choking, he tries his best to resist, INVOLUNTARY ERECTIONS which frustrate him🙏, he tries to stand on business + movie quotes

Note: stuck in hospital in the 3rd week of meningitis if I had a doc like crane this would be fun but there’s none worthy of sex dreams so this is boring af

🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩

Holding your head in your palm as you remained uninterested at your professor, Dr. Matheson, explaining some physics trick to hack the system of the psychic frauds she analysed, your eyes slipped to the assistant she had recently brought in to help with her lessons, Mr. Tom Buckley.

He’d usually catch your glance, seemingly to perfectly time when he looks at you in accordance to when you’d think of him or when you’d subconsciously moan, rubbing your thighs together to relieve the tension your imagination had pent up.

Practically on key, your eyes dropped from the boring speech to the man who sat just off center, catching his gaze as his lashes fluttered in embarrassment to being caught focusing on you.

Pulling his eyes away from yours, a grin grew on your face as he shifted uncomfortably, taking mental note of how attractive he looked when he was flustered.

At your thought, a deep blush creeped across his cheeks and his eyebrows cocked.

Unknown to you, Mr.Buckley had a psychic, mind reading secret that let him hear all the thoughts that ran through your head about him, ignoring them the best to his ability as his cock swelled at how filthy you secretly were.

From admiring the way his hair fell around the side of his face to imagining him fucking your dripping cunt over the other students papers on your professors desk, hearing your thoughts never failed to make him stiff and heave at the thought of giving you exactly what you wanted.

It was some kind of mental foreplay to him, rushing home after each lesson to furiously stroke himself while picturing what you’d look like gagging around the base of him, remembering your quiet moans that echoed through his head.

It had been a few weeks since he joined Dr.Matheson, strongly withholding his desire to fill your cunt as he remained distant of you.

A few weeks of teaching and torture, he’d curse himself each and every time his tip pulsed and leaked, angry and frustrated he felt so aroused by your arousal.

The feel of his hot blood filling his veins as he became thicker and harder with each passing thought made him tut and groan at how pathetic he was, cringing at how desperately he needed to, but couldn’t, touch you. He didn’t care for how you were half his age, but the morality of him being so needy for a students pussy made him feel guilty.

When he got the news that Dr.Matheson would take leave for whatever personal reason she needed to, his stomach knotted as he knew you would no longer be avoidable.

Taking the role of your teacher was threatening to him, now unable to hide his throbbing cock as he heard you salivate to the sight of him. As he was to stand in front of the whole room, he mentally prepared for his public display of arousal, tucking his already swollen tip under his belt to even slightly hide his growing erection.

Sitting behind the desk as he sighed, swinging his head back and rolling his eyes at how painfully hard he’s already gotten, he waited for the students to fill the room and felt his groin twitch in anticipation.

~~~~~~~

“The setting is important… keep it dark. Always.”

Mr.Buckley was pacing around the front of the room, lecturing how frauds scammed their customers into believing the supernatural.

His eyes scanned and passed you and as they did, a high pitched ringing filled his left ear, wincing at the pain and squeezing his eyes shut.

You held the tip of your pen in between your lips, nibbling at it slightly as you pictured him tearing you into two over your desk right then and there for the whole class to see.

Bringing his finger up and pressing it against his ear, he received the mental download of your thought and felt the warm blood flood his crotch.

Slowly opening his eyes again and taking a deep breath, the students looked at one another confused at his strange behaviour.

“The spirits demand it. You need to concentrate.”

His voice remained loud and sarcastic, he avoided looking at you once more, throbbing unbearably as he found it close to impossible to stand up.

Leaning against his desk to relieve the tightness of his tented pants, his skin prickled with arousal as he heard another one of your subconscious thoughts.

Wet, hot and leaking.

The ringing hit him at a higher pitch this time, physically cringing him as he rolled his chest slightly forward and groaning at the pain. Squeezing his eyes shut once more and feeling the air leave his lungs, the image of your salivating pussy to his voice ambushed his mind and sent him into a frenzy of desire.

After wincing for a couple of seconds, the class went silent and questioned what was wrong with him.

“Out! I need everyone out… now!” His voice was heated and he spoke louder than he ever has before, the sense of urgency causing the students to flock their seats quickly.

“Except you… I need you to stay.” He finally opened his eyes and pointed directly at you, some of the students looking at you with concern as they remained confused by his behaviour.

Feeling a heat prickle along your skin, your heart pounded in your chest as this was the first time he’d ever spoken directly to you, a wave of panic flooding over you as your mind raced with the reasoning he chose to keep you back.

As the students emptied the room, he stayed still on the edge of his desk and you slowly walked over, unsure of why he’d asked you to remain if he’s never acknowledged you before.

Staying silent, he pinched the top of his nose bridge and shut his eyes, sighing as he grew more annoyed at the mental images that flashed across his third eye, your reaction to being alone with him being nothing but sexually charged.

“Do you know how frustrating it is?”

His eyes remained shut and you furrowed your brows, confused and lost on what he was referring to.

“I’m sorry?”

Adjusting your bag, your palms began sweating in the midst of your nerves.

“Every. Single. Day. You sit there, doing nothing.”

His voice was low and stern, a blush creeping on your face as it was true, your lesson time was taken up with fantasies of the man instead of actual learning. Your notebook hasn’t even been touched since he’s stepped foot into the classroom. But how could he have known? He’s never spoken to you before.

“Not once have we spoken. Yet I know you so well.”

His voice remained agitated, your blush now vibrating your cheeks as you grew increasingly nervous. He opened his eyes and met yours, gazing over your face as his erection pulled on his crotch.

“I know what you think of me. Fuck…. I know your every thought.”

Your eyebrows knitted together as you clenched your jaw, embarrassment flooding your panties as you stood there dumbfounded at his confession.

“And I think you’re disgusting.”

Your eyes widened as you became humiliated, your mind raced with the possibilities of how he could’ve found out.

How did he know?

“Because I’m psychic.” The words purred off his lips and your stomach dropped.

Responding to your thought, you swayed anxiously as a million questions ran through your mind.

“How… how did you-“

Your voice was quiet, feeling vulnerable as he sat in front of you, horrifying you with his awareness of your thoughts about him.

“I told you how.”

Your head tilted, if anything you were fascinated with his words and questioned the trueness of them.

“But then… why do you teach-“

“To find more people like me.” He sighed out in defeat, staring into your eyes up close for the first time since he started teaching.

Only now did you realise just how gorgeous the man was, his cheekbones sharp and his eyes icy as they poured into yours.

Biting your bottom lip as you felt your walls clench at the sight of him, he rolled his head back and squeezed his eyes.

“S-stop.” He whimpered out, rubbing his head as his cock leaked into his pants.

Your eyes dropped and you noticed his dick print in his pants, widening them as the size of him made your mouth dry. He was thick and big, your heart fluttered as you couldn’t imagine fitting him into your tight walls.

Your cunt was dripping into the soft fabric you wore, sighing as you wanted nothing more than to have him fill any of your holes and use it to his desire.

Fuck… his cocks huge.

Snapping his head up and rapidly batting his eyelashes at you, hearing the way you complimented his throbbing erection, he stood up from the desk and latched both his hands into your hips.

Moving quickly and impatiently, he grunted as his fingers dug into your hips and pushed you quickly against his desk, your ass sat lightly on the wood as his forehead pressed into yours and he flared his nostrils, keeping his eyes shut as he held your sides in his hands.

Holding you close for a few moments, you felt his heavy breath on your chest and his cock press against your stomach. Exasperated and desperate to finally have you, his lust possessed him into needing you right then and there.

“Touch yourself. I-I need you to touch yourself.”

His voice was a whisper and it shook with his demand, leaving you smirking as you’d never seen him so malleable before.

Humming as you lifted up your skirt, you sat further onto the desk and placed your feet up, Mr.Buckley remained still as his eyes stuck onto your exposed panties. He groaned at the wet patch that pooled onto the fabric, relishing in how pretty you looked spread on the desk for him.

Spreading your knees and leaning back onto one hand as the other snaked down your torso onto your covered cunt, you smiled at the way his mouth fell slightly open and his eyes squinted at the sight of you.

Leaning over and placing his hands on either side of your legs, he gulped as he watched your small fingers draw delicate circles on your clit. His chest began heaving as your face scrunched in pleasure, quiet moans escaping your mouth as he admired the way you were so gentle with yourself.

“Let me see.” He growled, growing impatient and desperate to see your soaking pussy on display for him.

You pulled your panties to the side and exposed yourself and he whined at the sight, wincing as the cold air hit your wet slit.

Continuing to lean over your softly trembling body, he dropped a ball of spit from his mouth onto your mound and watched as it slowly dripped down you.

Using his saliva as lubricant, you began to rub faster circles on your needy nub as you felt your walls clench around nothing, the fast impending orgasm bringing you on the brink of seeing stars.

“Touch me.” You moaned out, your hips bucking at your fingers.

“I don’t… I can’t.” The guilt of watching a student, his student, like this was overwhelming. Yet he couldn’t help but feel his cock twitch in pain as he mentally begged to fuck you stupid over the desk.

“You don’t wanna feel my pussy?” You snapped your head up and looked at him through your hazed eyes, your pleasure leaving you drunk and needy for more.

He gulped as he slowly shook his head. Your eyes dropped to his erection and you sighed out through your grin.

“Then why are you so hard Mr.Buckley?” You moaned out his name and he shuddered, his lust slowly taking control of his mind.

“Why are you watching your student touch herself in front of your face?” His skin prickled with desperation and he could no longer withhold his desire, rolling his eyes as he took a deep breath before dropping to his knees.

Grunting animalistically, his arms latched around your thighs and pulled you closer to the edge of the table, close to his face so he could breath you in.

Immediately latching his lips onto your soaked slit, his tongue began to lap up and down your mound.

Throwing your head back in pleasure, his hot breath fanned over your aching hole as he pulled back to look up at you shaking as his touch.

“Stop fucking teasing me.” He growled. Sticking his tongue against you and sucking at you hungrily.

Your moans were growing louder as his tongue slipped into your hole, shoving his face deep into you and filling the room with squelching noises.

“Oh fuck!” Your back began to arch and your fingers intertwined with his hair, circling your hips as he ate at you skilfully and desperately.

You were on the edge of your orgasm, feeling him hum against you as you pulsed on his tongue.

His hot breath was short as his nose was stuck on your groin, ignoring the sense of urgency to take a breath as his determination to have you coat his mouth with your juices was his only priority.

Feeling yourself fall over the edge, the hot knot in your stomach unraveled as you felt liquid pour out of you and into his mouth, nose and chin. His tongue drew number eight’s on your clit as you shook beneath him, attacking the now swollen nub through your orgasm.

He held your thighs firmly in place, not letting you move away from what he was inflicting no matter how violently you shook as you came.

“That’s it… cum for your teacher.” His words were low and velvet smooth, intensifying how hard you came around him.

“Such a pretty girl.” He whispered, occasionally praising the way you squirted on him through your orgasm.

Feeling yourself calm back down as you winced on his tongue from sensitivity, his sloppy kisses turned into pecks on your slit as he pulled your pussy lips slightly apart. Staring at the shine from your cum, he furrowed his brows and whined at how perfect you looked.

Standing up and wobbling on his knees, his gaze panned to your face and you stared back at him in accomplishment. Mentally thanking him for the way his tongue had fucked you, he pulled a slight curl in the corner of his lips as his fingers fumbled to get his belt off.

Finally whipping it out of his waistband, his fingers impatiently zipped down and instantly gave his cock a release from his constraint.

Pressing down onto his erection and sighing at the pressure on your pussy, he pulled your cunt closer to the edge of the desk once more and pressed himself harder against your wet, tired mound.

“Fucking perfect.” His fingers fidgeted to your shirt, pulling it over your head and praising your tits.

He was grateful you didn’t wear a bra, instantly snatching your flesh into his hand and kneaded you desperately.

Rolling your head back and twitching your hips to create a small amount of movement on his clothed cock, he watched the way your mouth fell open as you mentally begged him for more.

I want you to fuck me so bad Mr.Buckley. Fill my tight cunt.

He groaned as he heard your thought, hooking his fingers under his waistband and pooled his underwear to his feet. His thick, veiny cock sprung out and hit your clit as it did, wincing as you remained sensitive from your orgasm.

Taking his leaking red tip and pulling it over your dripping slit, he groaned at how warm you were.

“Coating my cock so well…” He whined out in praise at how aroused you were. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

His fingers pulled up and wrapped along your neck, pressing into your sides harshly and causing you to choke on your air.

“So bad.” You could only moan, needing him desperately to fill you up and leave you dripping with his cum.

Continuing to lather himself in your liquid, he grunted and tightened his grasp on your neck, feeling unsatisfied with your plea.

“So bad! Please Mr.Buckley… I need your cock!” Your voice was trembling and a tear formed in your eye, practically heaving in need for him.

“Good girl.” He lined his tip up perfectly with your entrance and once again tightened his grasp on your neck, he snapped his hips forward and shoved all of him inside your tight hole at once.

Rolling his chest over your body beneath him as he growled at how well your tight walls took him in, you screamed at the intrusion as your hole had been breached and his tip slammed up against the back of your pussy.

“Oh fuck…” His mouth was near your ear, growling pathetically at how good you felt. “S-so- hm- tight.” His voice had raised and he wobbled to regain his balance.

Dragging his hips out teasingly slow and keeping his tip in, he would repeat this and slam into you repeatedly so you could warm you up to his size.

Your neck would surely be bruised tomorrow with the strength of his grip, seeing stars with each rough stroke and lack of oxygen you received. After the painfully slow thrusts he fucked to give you time to adjust, his head remained buried in the crook of your neck and a frustrated throaty groan left him. He began fucking you animalistically and violently, a string of incomprehensible curse words and praise leaving his lips as your walls suffocated his cock.

“Taking my cock so well honey.” He said breathlessly, using you hard and fast to chase his own high.

Fucking you deep as he was rough, you bounced off each thrust as your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your moans echoed off the walls, feeling his balls slap against your clit as you were pushed around harshly on his desk.

Shifting on the wood, your hole began to ache at how fast he was going, the slapping noises of your skin beginning to sting as he was treating you selfishly.

“Don’t move.” He growled at you, dropping his hand from your neck onto your hip, holding you still as you felt his cock flex inside of you.

Holding you pinned in position, he took advantage of how weak you were on his cock and started to whimper loudly as his thrusts sped up.

“Oh my god- I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” His voice was high pitched as his knees bucked, his thrusts growing inconsistent as you pulsated around him to drain him of all he has.

You felt a hot, white string of liquid squirt and coat the inside of your walls, moaning at the sensation of him emptying his balls into you.

Attempting to continue to fuck you through his orgasm, the sensation was overwhelming as his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth fell open, the look making you think he was about to cry or was in pain as he trembled.

He panted and whined through each stroke, the sound of him so weak was enough to send you over the edge again.

Slowing down the rate and harshness of each thrust, he heaved out whines as his orgasm blurred his mind and emptied out his lungs of air.

Slowly pulling out his softening cock as it fell slightly limp out of you, he continued to breath heavily as he let go of your hip and placed his hands on either side of you again.

Looking up into your face, you admired how gorgeous he looked. Admiring how his hair had messed, his lips had swelled and an arrogant red had spread on his cheeks. Your walls rhythmically pulsated at how flushed he looked and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“Stop… you’ll get me hard again.”

[mrs-bucky-barnes106]

we saw oppenheimer at 12:00 with a black coffee and barbie at 4:30 with a diet coke like the lord intended

[queenshelby]

Chemical Reactions (P. 9)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Age-Gap, Infidelity, Smut

Words: 2,678

Note: The fic is spoiler free and my own fantasy and imagination. It is not historically and scientifically accurate.

Previous Parts: 1; 2; 3; 4; 5; 6; 7; 8

THIS PART IS DIALOGUE HEAVY AND PART EIGHT WILL BE SIMILAR, BOTH PARTS ARE NECESSARY THOUGH TO EXPAND THE STORY.

Two weeks later...

Just as General Groves had anticipated, the following week, you made your way to Robert’s final lecture at Berkley which was held in front of an audience of about fifty students.

The lecture itself was not relevant to your thesis but you knew that you had to see him, in an aim to clear things up.

You managed to get a letter to him through Professor Lawrance in the past few days, hidden within your thesis papers and, even though Lawrance told you as well that Robert was no longer your supervisor, you insisted for Robert to read it, seeing that her was the expert in this field.

After you begged, of course, Lawrance agreed to provide the paper to his colleague and, whilst you hoped that Robert would respond to your letter, he did not. At least not until now which is when you sat inside the lecture hall and he handed out some papers to everyone.

“I suggest that you read page two carefully Miss Y/LN” he told you quietly when, finally, he approached you amongst the other students and, of course, you knew what he meant by that and skipped right ahead to the page he mentioned.

“Thank you doctor” you told him as he moved on and handed out the remaining papers to the other students while, at the back of the hall, you could see two men watching the lecture and Robert’s interactions with you. They were spies for sure and you knew that, when hopefully getting to see him, you had to do so without being seen yourself.

Robert though played them well. He was nothing but professional towards you and the note he had hidden on page two was not noticeable to anyone but you.

“Meet me at Lawrance’s office. 3 o’clock. We need to talk” it said and, of course, you already knew what this was going to be about. He was going to tell you exactly what General Groves had already told you, namely that he could and would not see you again after today.

He would also tell you that your security clearance had been denied and that, at least for now, you had to forget about him.

Whether you could do that or not, however, was something that you had already thought about for the past week or so, ever since Lesley Groves’ conversation with you and you came to the conclusion that you could not.

Not after the letters he had sent you, telling you how much he desired you and enjoyed your company, and not after the passionate night you shared.

Of course, love was not something you believed in even though Robert referred to it on two occasions now and love was not yet what you felt for him. But what you felt was something more than just some intellectual and physical attraction. It was desire in its purest and most primal form which had developed into an addiction of some sort and this addiction needed to be fuelled in order for you to function mentally and physically. You thus decided that you needed Robert in your life and this was going to be a challenge.  

You were crazy for him and, clearly, he was crazy for you as well, going by what he had written to you and it were those letters which went through your mind just as Robert made his way to the lectern and began his lecture on naturally occurring atoms.  

“Concentrate Y/N!” you then said to yourself as Robert had started reading for the lesson and just as he spoke so passionately about physics, you took your pencil and slowly ran it down your neck and then to your collarbone, subtly squirming like you enjoyed the feel, though your face was serious. There was something extremely sexy and desirable about this man talking about atoms and your mind again wandered to the night you shared.

You could feel his eyes on you, glancing at you, as he went through some chemical reactions and him talking like this sent goosebumps all over your skin. You enjoyed the feeling and brought the pencil back up, now running across the seam of your lips in purposeful absentmindedness until he lost his train of thought and paused before picking up on his speech again.

This is when you decided to tune it down. You did not want Robert to be thrown off guard and knew that, after class, you would finally be able to catch a moment with him after not having seen him for almost four weeks.

***

At 3 o’clock and after shaking off the two men, who had been following you, by sneaking out of the lavatory window, you made your way too Dr Lawrance’s office which, unsurprisingly, was unlocked that day.

Thus, you made your way inside without knocking which happened to startle Robert who had already been waiting for you.

“Jesus” he cursed, afraid that it was one of General Groves’ personnel who had followed him or even you to Lawrance’s office. He was clearly paranoid and concerned about meeting you there, but he knew that he had to see you regardless.

“Has someone followed you here?” he asked nonetheless and you shook your head while, finally, approaching him and, in a haste, pressing your lips onto his.

“I missed you” you moaned against his lips while Robert kissed you passionately, only ever allowing you to pull away in order to breathe, which is something that continued for at least five minutes until Robert took a step back.

“We need to talk” Robert then said after your lips drifted apart and you slowly looked up at him with wide open eyes and a parted mouth before, wordlessly, reaching beneath your skirt and taking off your panties.

“We do, but that has to wait!” you determined, causing Robert to gasp with suprise and shake his head.

“We can’t Y/N…” Robert began to say but, as soon as your lust filled eyes met his, his grip on your waist tightened and he stopped talking.

“I suppose we can…” Robert then corrected himself, stammering out the words and you could feel his gaze boring into you and, just as you felt as though your lust for this man couldn’t have been any greater, he pressed his lips onto yours again for another passionate kiss.

As you were kissing, you slid your hands up his thighs and reached for the zipper of his pants. You pulled it down, undid the button and belt and then his briefs-bound cock pushed out of the opening.

“On the desk” Robert simply groaned as, eventually, you reached into his briefs and grabbed him, pulling his erection free. The gurgling noise he made at that meant that he was absolutely focused on what you were doing to him, so you let yourself lift your eyes and take in his flushed face, staring at your hand like it was God's salvation for his mortal soul.

“Not yet” you teased before licking your lips and descending on him, causing Robert to swear.

“Fuck” he cursed as, without warning, you engulfed him completely.

The feel of his length in your mouth and the weight of it was almost as good as the punched-out moan he made as you worked your tongue up and down his shaft for a moment before taking him in all the way again until he bottomed out.

Then you pulled back and took him in again, building up to a brutal pace.

Robert was grunting with every thrust into your mouth. He could not hold back as you sucked and swirled your tongue around the head, making sure he would never forget this moment with you, especially if this was going to be the last time for you both.

“Stop. No more” Robert eventually groaned before pulling slightly against your hair and, just as he did, you removed your lips from his pulsing hard shaft and stood up.

“I need to taste you and I need to be inside of you. It has been weeks” he then told you while pulling you over towards the large cedar study desk which, clearly, belonged to Dr Lawrance.

“Then have me Robert” you told him as he stared at your body intently. “Fuck me like you own me” you then demanded and Robert took a handful of your hair and pulled your head back playfully so that you would stare up at him. Your eyes went wide for a moment as you let out a little gasp before returning to the lidded hungry stare you had before.

Robert then leaned forward and kissed you hard on the mouth and your mouth tasted sweet and your moans against his mouth were whorish and wanton. He drank from your mouth and all thoughts of his marriage and the project slipped far into the recess of his will as he lifted you up on to the desk.

He then kissed down further, along your long neck and just above the v-line of your blouse before he kneeled in front of you and you wrapped your fingers in his hair.

As he was caressing your clothed body, you popped open some of the buttons on your blouse, thus allowing Robert to push it down and thereby exposing your breasts. He cupped the right one with his hand, gently twisting the nipple between thumb and forefinger. It instantly grew hard to his touch.

Robert then spent a moment or two with his mouth on each breast. Tasting every inch of your flesh, before he slipped lower and the heady aroma of your open sex filled his nostrils so that he was possessed by a strong desire to taste you.

As he lowered himself further, he took hold of your legs behind each knee and spread them apart as he pushed your legs up and your skirt back so that it was curled up against your stomach. Robert then kissed your left thigh and looked up at you. Your cheeks were flush, mouth parted, eyes unfocused but intent.

"You must be quiet" he managed say and you faintly nodded before he lowered his mouth onto your sex. You tried your best to muffle your squeal, but as his tongue worked its way into you, more moans and cries escaped your lips.

You tasted as sweet as usual, and he devoured you. He worked his tongue as deep into you as he could before wiggling it back and forth up over the length of your slit, and then sucking gently on your engorged clit.

You bucked and squirmed in response to his ministrations, but Robert held you down as his mouth locked onto you. Your fingers wrapped into his hair and you grinded yourself against his tongue as best you could.

You began a long slow whine that slowly built in intensity, punctuated by quick movements of your hips as you pressed your mound against his mouth. It almost sounded as though you were crying, and for a moment his concentration broke, and he was tempted to stop, but your grip on the back of his head told him otherwise.

“Don’t you dare stop!” you moaned just before Robert flicked his tongue quickly over your clit and your body began to shudder. Your whine became a steady cry, followed by convulsions, and finally a great big gasp, as your body went slack.

"Oh god” you then panted before pushing his head away, unable to take anymore. Your hair was mussed and your makeup had smeared a bit.

“Yes, my love?” Robert teased before standing straight and, of course, you rolled your eyes at his joke just like you usually would.

“You are so sure of yourself, aren’t you?” you teased as Robert finally brought you to your feet.

“Yes” he answered with a grin before kissing you again to let you taste yourself on his lips.

“Now turn around and lean against my desk” Robert then demanded before he spun your small frame around and bent you over his colleague’s desk.

“That’s Dr Lawrance’s desk, not yours” you pointed out before Robert stood himself behind you. You were limp and behaving more like a rag doll than an active participant, but after eating you to orgasm, Robert knew that he had to have you. He had been aching for you for weeks.

“I suppose it is Lawrance’s desk, but I am sure he would not mind us using it” Robert then said which made you giggle.  

“Very well then professor, I am all yours” you teased as Robert flipped your skirt onto your back and reached down between your legs, feeling that you were still slick and ready for him.

“You are indeed” Robert groaned before he lined himself up with your entrance without pushing into you just yet.

“Don’t tease” you demanded as you lowered your head to the desk and pushed back a little against his teasing cock.

“Please Robert” you then begged and, with that, he finally pressed into you slowly.

“I missed this a lot’ Robert groaned again as, finally, he took hold of your hips and pressed harder, to which you whimpered and moaned in pleasure.

“So did I” you gasped as he filled you.

"You are so very tight” he then told you as your channel gripped his length like a firm velvet fist. He could feel every inch inside you and, slowly, he began to rock his hips, small movements at first, then bigger ones, until he was fucking you in earnest.

You mewled as his member opened you and made your channel adjust to his size. He held your hips and pressed hard against you as you grunted with each thrust while, eventually, his cock was swelling.

"Oh god" you repeated as he fucked you in a steady rhythm until he briefly pulled out of you and turned you around.

“I missed having you inside me” you told Robert as you sat up on Lawrance’s desk again and spread your legs wide.

“I need you Y/N. I need you so fucking much” Robert said as he stepped in between your legs and re-entered you while you propped yourself up on your elbows and wrapped your long legs around his hips.

"I need you too, Robert. God, fuck me, make me yours” you moaned incoherently while your eyes were desperate and intently locked onto his. He leaned forward and kissed you in response, pressing his tongue into your mouth while you moaned against his lips, over and over again.

His own orgasm was building, but he did not want to stop just yet. Thus, his thrusts became more insistent and, with that, he drew you closer and closer towards climax as well.

“I am close” you said as if you were reading his mind while you leaned back and looked at Robert through lidded eyes.

“So am I” Robert told you as he felt your legs lock tighter around him and, just as you decided to hold on to for dear life, he pressed himself into you hard.

“Oh god, yes! That’s it” you almost screamed as, all so suddenly, you climaxed again. Your orgasm hit you like freight train and just as your walls began to convulse around his shaft, he exploded deep within you, filling you with his seed. He was thrusting hard with each spurt, and you wrapped your arms around him as it was his turn for his body to shake.

His orgasm was intense and, within seconds, his cum seeped from your channel and down his shaft, eliciting a final groan from Robert when he took a glimpse at where you were still connected.

“We really do need to talk” Robert then eventually said as he pulled out of you and felt the tension loosen inside of him as he momentarily closed his eyes and relaxed.

“Yes we do and now I can. I just needed to get this out of my system first before I could put together some logically thoughts” you said before reaching for Robert’s handkerchief and using it to clean yourself up.

“Do you mind if I keep that?” you then asked, causing Robert to chuckle.

“Not at all” he then said, pulling up his briefs and pants, before he leaned over and kissed your forehead. “Your security clearance…” he then began to say but you interrupted him.

“I know, General Groves came to interview me” you told Robert while adjusting your skirt. “He told me that you were instructed not see me again, but here you are, engaging in some intimate relations with me” you chuckled, still out of breath.

“General Groves should use his words more wisely as he did not say that I cannot see you again. He simply said that I must not engage or liaise with communists and, since you are not a communist, I do not see an issue with seeking you discreetly” Robert then pointed out while caressing your face.

“Discreetly, huh?” you chuckled before asking Robert what he thought was happening next.

“What do you mean?” he asked gently while looking into your eyes.

“With us, Robert. Where do we go from here” you wanted to know.

“Well, I will continue to try my luck and convince Groves to get you clearance for the project and, in the meantime, I will come here and visit you whenever I can” he explained.

“Robert, the General has already read your two letters to me. So, how do you expect to make contact without them noticing?” you asked, seeing that, no doubt, Robert was being watched.

“I will find a way my love. I promise” he promised you while cupping your face with both of his hands.

“Wouldn’t it be easier just to end it?” you argued, but Robert shook his head.

“I can’t do that” he told you.

“Why?” you queried, seeing that seeing you would be risky.

“Because I need you in my life Y/N” he then determined and a surprisingly warm and fluttering feeling crept up inside of you. It was a feeling that was unfamiliar to you and you could not describe it.

[weirdworldofwinnie]

Heat of the Moment - One Night Passion

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Reader NSFW 18+ only, One shot

Summary: You, a young psychology student and friend of Jean Tatlock, drink a little too much at a Communist gathering and find yourself falling for the esteemed Dr. Oppenheimer himself.

Word Count: 3,830

Warnings: Age gap, Cheating, Drunkenness, Loss of virginity, Unprotected sex, Smut with little plot

Disclaimer: this is ONLY intended to be based on Cillian Murphy's portrayal of Oppenheimer in the film and takes place before he marries Kitty, moves to Los Alamos, and the development of the Trinity Test bomb. NOT historically or scientifically accurate and not supposed to be in support of the real man's life actions at all. DNI if you are uncomfortable or take issue with this. It is purely for entertainment purposes, and it is fantasy/fiction!

The party was brimming with people, many being prominent due-payers of the Communist party and you met your friend Jean's eye across the room through the warm glow and haze of cigarettes. She was standing with a few men and one woman as you approached, noticing one well dressed man in particular who had his back to you and you felt your heart involuntarily stutter when he turned, his wide strikingly blue eyes on you intensely. You swallowed and then Jean introduced you and he simply nodded with an amicable smile before turning back to the others in their discussion huddle. You were at bit surprised at his dismissiveness, but didn't take it too personally as you drifted over to get a drink from the bar area. Holding a full cocktail glass, you casually observed the room, noticing at once how Dr. Oppenheimer had one of those magnetic personalities, as long as you were an intellectual (although he was a good enough speaker that he could capture the attention of the common man and likely even someone who knew absolutely nothing about physics), yet at the same time he tended to eclipse everyone else around him. They all seemed to orbit around him in a fashion and the longer the night drew on, you too found yourself drawn to his quiet charisma and you now were seeing what Jean saw in him. After an hour of drinking and mingling around in various conversations, you mustered up the nerve to approach his ring again and stood next to your friend with only a couple other people you didn't know chatting to him about his teaching at Berkeley. He glanced at you, his eyes lighting with more interest than the initial impression.

"Hello again, Miss Y/N. Excuse me," he told the others and moved, breaking their circle to focus on you alone.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked politely but without waiting for an answer, he went to personally make a martini himself and then pour it into a crystal glass, topping it with a slice of lime. You were empty handed at the moment, but neglected to tell him you'd already had two glasses of alcohol already. He gave the filled glass to you, his fingers brushing your wrist as he did and you thanked him as he leaned against the counter with his own drink that almost mirrored yours.

"It's my preferential recipe. Do you like it?" he asked curiously as you drank and decided it tasted a bit bitter and tangy, so you just raised your eyebrows and smiled assuredly with what you thought was a convincing nod, however, he must have seen otherwise.

"Too bitter, isn't it? I'm working on it; it would probably be better off with a dash of honey." He raised his glass and suddenly swapped it with yours, taking a sip and giving a satisfied expression.

"Hmm, right. I'll remedy it and I do apologize, I was actually just testing you there for your opinion. I'll have this one, you enjoy mine instead."

Unsure of whether you should be flattered or not, you drank his original and it was more appeasing of your sweet tooth, and then he proceeded to ask you about what you were currently studying and how long you knew Jean.

You gave him simple answers at first, feeling a bit shy and guarded compared to the spotlight he projected. He was far from being a loud, obnoxious man but he wasn't timid in the slightest when it came knowledge and he gave off an air of aloofness and professionalism that slowly broke the more you opened up about psychology and politics while making it clear to him you considered yourself a somewhat free spirit trying to make your way in a predominantly male run world. It was refreshing to you that he actually sincerely listened and wasn't too condescending like other men you had encountered in the field.

"Interesting. Have you considered applying that to a career for the future, I assume you are aiming for a psychology degree? Or is it a base point to advance you into becoming a psychiatrist? I'm sure you would be able use medicine in addition to your Freudian theories to mitigate such deep mental issues."

"Well, to tell you the truth, I'm only my second year in for psychology and I doubt my father will pay for addition schooling on top of that, but theoretically yes, I would love to. It's my passion and I have a prudent desire to assist others, not just study them under a detached microscopic lens, so to speak. I want to help people understand who they are and I myself want to understand why their brains work the way that they do. And if some disorders could be cured with certain drugs when all else fails, I would consider that a great accomplishment for humanitarian progress."

"That certainly is a valuable asset, to understand one's self, and especially in this rapidly complicated changing world and the more we have a stronger grasp of the human mind, the better off we will be I suppose. But remember, to know is to do. Theory will only take you so far."

You nodded, soaking that in and taking an ample sip from the drink, which was spurring you on in confidence, so you began to ramble on about the damaging psychological impacts of war before jumping to the effects of practical versus ideological Communism on modern society... at least until a young man interrupted, joining the two of you for a while and you let Oppenheimer divert his attention to him instead as they delved into more physics, which you honestly only had a basic understanding of. You drained down the rest of the martini, refilling it with a simple gin instead to sip more than you should and you definitely were feeling tipsy as the evening wore on to a close, hovering by Oppenheimer's side constantly and perhaps even unconsciously flirting while ignoring Jean's stares from several feet away. He wasn't paying attention at the moment, so you turned to set down your empty glass, but stumbled into a stool on the way. You spun around, feeling Dr. Oppenheimer place a hand on your shoulder, steadying you.

"Perhaps you should retire for the night," he advised softly, close to your ear.

"No… I'm fine," you insisted, the heat rising to your cheeks as he took your shaky hand and you caught Jean giving you one last glare before she disappeared into a murky corner of the room. You looked back to him staring at you concernedly and you blinked as he spoke quietly.

"There, now where are you staying? Surely it can't be far, I'll take you home."

"N-No, my apartment's the next town over and you don't have to, I-I think I'll be okay..." you stammered absurdly and wavered on your feet, not the least bit sober. He changed direction, pivoting to catch you under your arms, and propping you up straighter.

"I believe there is a spare bedroom upstairs, I'll take you to it." Without another word, he led you out of the room and tottering up creaky stairs that led to an upper floor. A few doors down, he took you into an empty small stuffy room with a single queen bed. As you collapsed onto it, sighing deeply after a hiccup, he brushed aside the beige curtains and opened the window, letting the cool night air flicker through.

"Stay here, I'll be right back with some water," he said and exited for a few minutes, coming back shortly with two glasses of water in his hands, one for himself that he took a careful gulp from and you found yourself wondering if his mouth was dry or if he could be nervous. You accepted your cold glass and drank, washing down the strong mix of cocktails and gin taste from your tongue.

"A bit better?" he asked kindly, getting a nod in return as he took the glass from you and set it down on the bedside table next to his own. You watched as he stepped over and stood in front of the window, rustling the curtains. He stayed still there for a while in a pondering pose, smoking and staring out at the street below, presumably lost in thought as he often was. You made a sort of groaning noise and he turned, hand on his hip with a raise of his eyebrows.

"Are you going to be sick? Should I call for someone?"

"No!" you gasped, sitting up with a swirl of the room as he strode over to the door. You did not need your parents to find out about this, especially your father.

"Wait - Please don't leave," you begged and he hesitantly came over, abandoning his cigarette in the ash tray on the nightstand next to the glasses of water and sitting down, getting a good look at your bloodshot eyes and tousled hair, a few strands obscuring your vision. He gently took his hand and wiped the hairs off to the side of your face, his touch on your flushed cheek sending shivers up your spine. He leaned back, putting his hands on his knees and you let out a shaky breath, trying to reorient.

"Have you ever drank before?" he inquired knowingly and you laughed weakly.

"Of course I have."

"I'm afraid that you overdid it this time or otherwise you must have a low tolerance. I only offered you one drink after all." He held up his right hand, splaying his fingers apart.

"How many do you see?" he asked seriously and you only giggled, pushing his hand down.

"Five, maybe six? I feel finnee."

He shook his head, maybe amused, and you had the impulse to climb onto his lap, so you began to slide over, swinging your legs and scooting halfway onto his lap, making him blink in surprise and gasp slightly.

"What are you…?"

You shushed him and wrapped your arms seductively around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder with your ruby lips inches from his neck. He put his hand on your back uneasily and you whispered in his ear.

"Could you carry me to the bathroom?"

"I can't - What? Why?"

"I might be sick."

He pushed away, letting you slip off his slender body and sitting back onto the sheets with a light laugh.

"I think you should lie down again," he said firmly and you flumped your head onto the pillows, your face burning as he stood up, moving around to tug your feet out of your heels and then his hand caught, wrapping his fingers around your ankle and sending a sensation up your legs. You tilted forward, reading his oddly grim expression.

"What is it?"

"I should leave," he murmured, tossing the shoes to the floor and removing his hand reluctantly.

"You don't have to," you told him earnestly, struggling to grasp for him as he stayed at the end of the bed.

"You aren't in a normal state of mind, I'm afraid."

"Are you?"

"Not as much as I should be," he admitted with a sigh, knowing it would be inappropriate to sleep with Jean's friend that he had just met and it was unknown if you had a boyfriend or not.

"Well, I doon't caaare…" you slurred out and he went to sit on the bed next to you as you shifted, sitting up with your elbows. Dr. Oppenheimer gazed fondly and then you both began to instinctively lean into each other, his nose meeting yours and he tilted his head, giving you the incentive to lock lips and slide your tongue into his mouth, letting him reciprocate slowly until both parties pulled away, you panting excitedly.

This seemed to cause a chain reaction that had him scooting over closely so he was fully on the bed, loping his arms around at your back and you tugged at his black tie, wrestling with undoing it as he let go of you to shrug off his suit jacket and discard it, his breathing quickening. He slipped off his shoes and socks, dropping them over the bed with a clump before his fingers found the zipper on the back of your dress and he fumbled, forcing it down and letting it pool off your body to the sheets, running a hand over your bare skin. Pausing slightly with his hands nearing to unfastening your bra, he murmured urgently.

"Don't tell Jean about this."

"But she's my friend," you protested loudly and he put a finger to your lips with a 'shh' that made your heart palpitate.

"I don't want her to find out the hard way."

"She… She'll figure it out, right?"

"She may, but I don't want it to come from you. This is all my doing, I'll take the responsibility for my own actions, do you understand?"

"Oh yes, I do Mister J. Robert 'Oppie' Oppenheimer… What's the J stand for anyway?"

"Nothing important," he replied shortly and you reached to feel his bottom lip, smiling in curiosity.

"C'mon, tell me. Is it John, James, Joe...?"

He shook his head, closing his eyes and you laughed, tracing his defined cheekbones with your fingers.

"It's Julius," he admitted almost sheepishly and you cocked your head, cupping his chin.

"As in Julius Caesar?"

He wet his lips, the corners of his mouth twitching in annoyed amusement.

"Et tu, Miss Y/N?" He paused for a fraction of a second with a light sigh.

"Just call me Robert," he then told you and leaned in to kiss you again, caressing the sides of your face as he did so and you eagerly wound your tongue with his, passionately pressing into his face. He smelled heady; smoky and of aftershave mixed with some brand of cologne, not overpowering but enough to be noticed and mildly sting your nostrils when you went to mouth his neck.

He moved to hover over you, hands grazing your nearly naked body. You let him take the bra and he flung it over his shoulder to the floor and all that was left was your panties. You unbuttoned his light blue dress shirt and opened it up, stroking the light hairs on his chest as he fingered your panties, the last barrier to whatever was going to come into effect. Robert ran a single finger up along your abdomen and past to one of your breasts, circling the nipple and it hardened substantially at the stimulation, which he transferred over to the other one, teasingly fingering back and forth before he sank his face into your chest, his tongue trailing where his fingers had been and you whined, letting the budding arousal take you higher. Then he retracted his mouth, moving back and going to himself, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, popping them open to reveal boxers concealing his burgeoning, bulging cock with tightening testicles. He wriggled out of his pants, kicking them away to hang off the side of the bed and he leaned over, coming to hover on top of you and you felt the pressing of the underwear fabric hiding his growing penis, and you felt inclined to slide your hands down to grope it, fingers yanking at the band around his waist.

"Go ahead, take it," he encouraged and you pulled the boxers down, seeing he was already dripping with precum and your breath came in pants, anxious to feel him, but the rational part of your alcohol tainted brain was reminding you that you'd never taken it this far with a man before. He shifted, supporting himself by pressing his palms to the cream colored plump pillow behind your head and immediately settling over to align. You felt him trying to enter, your clitoris throbbing with anticipation, but he wasn't successful at first of getting in.

"God, you are too tight," he muttered and you froze, staring up at him as Robert now realized the exact nature of you.

"First time ever?" he asked with trepidation and you nodded somewhat shamefully, embarrassed. It wasn't like you hadn't been with men before, but this was the first for it to get this far with full-on penetration. He closed his eyes for a second, controlling his patience for he wanted so desperately to come inside of you, but he had to ask.

"How old are you?"

"I - Is that important?"

"Just please tell me you're at least 21 and don't lie about it."

"Yes, I'm over 21."

"Alright. Well, there's a first time for everything. I'll go slower."

He shimmied down your naked body until his head was at your vagina and he put his hands up on your stomach, massaging vigorously into your skin, eliciting a tiny happy moan. You never felt this aroused around anyone before and just his hands on any part of your body was pleasurable, so you hoisted your hips up to meet his touch. But then he stopped abruptly, displaying two fingers and you squinted, body aching for more.

"How many I am holding up now?" he asked and a delirious giggle erupted from you.

"T-Two."

"Correct," he praised and promptly slid them up into your moist entry, causing you to cringe painfully and make a noise that made you clamp your own hand over your mouth, afraid the people downstairs might hear.

"How is that? Okay?" he asked in a hushed voice, anxious to go further and you just nodded, taking deep breaths.

You were now getting so wet and he started pumping his fingers in and out, eventually gaining traction with three in and you were whimpering and moaning, so close to orgasming when he pulled them all out and sat back on his haunches, his tongue flicking across his lips in a kind of hunger.

"Don't stop," you pleaded and Robert's eyes were dilated with desire as he came down, burrowing his head in-between your thighs, gripping your legs and kissing your pussy before lifting his head and looking at you squarely.

"Oh, I won't."

Without further ado, he repositioned himself over you and slowly pushed in, his cock breaking at your walls. You moaned, the pleasure outweighing the sharp pain and you clenched around his shaft, letting him penetrate as far as he could go into your core. Within moments, you let the orgasm ripple through you as he kept at it, coming to his own climax that wasn't going to be outside of you.

"Fuck, this feels good..." you breathed, rubbing your palms on Robert's short cut dark hair and he couldn't hold back any longer... exploding with his own euphoria, emitting a primal grunt that became a loud gasp. He pulled out wetly a few moments later, shuddering from the exertion and you reeled in what had just happened. You just had intercourse with this brilliant man… Oh God. And you didn't want it to stop; you weren't done yet.

You rolled over so you were on top of his body now and you carefully settled down so you were sitting on his upright swollen cock and the rubbing of it against your clit was making you close to orgasming for the second time.

"Stop," he gasped suddenly, trying to push you away.

"W-Why?"

"That's how she does it." He frowned, licking his lips and you didn't have to ask to know who he was talking about.

"Do you… like it?"

"Yes, of course, but-"

"Then I'm doing it, it feels good for me too," you told him with no arguments allowed and both of you began to rock back and forth, his still hardened dick pushing up against your vagina. He thrusted in again and you groaned, quivering.

"Oh, good girl," he whispered and you almost lost it at the tone of his slightly husky voice. You certainly never got that from the few men you'd courted briefly that had turned out to be too immature or pigheaded. This man actually felt like a real decent, more experienced man.

"Robert...!" you squealed, letting the boom of climaxing implode inside of you. You leaned back, letting him slide out and you gripped his slick dick mixed with fluids from both you and him, your nails very gently stroking it as he smiled, throwing his head back against the pillow in relaxation and pure joy.

You orgasmed a couple more times after that, each nearly as strong as the last which was new to you. What the hell was it about Robert that made your libido go off the charts?

Finally the two of you collapsed back together, staring up at the ceiling above in ecstasy. His chest was rising and falling in rhythm with yours and gradually your body cooled down, though your face still felt hot and a dull headache was coming on, but the night breeze from the window was making goosebumps pepper up on your skin.

"Cold?" Robert asked softly, noticing.

"Mm-hmm."

He sat up and grabbed his wrinkled boxers before deftly swinging a leg out of bed, getting up to the floor and yanking them back on. He also hastily snatched up his pants and slid back into them, not bothering to zip or buckle as he went over to the window and peered out once more at the street, then firmly shut it, closing the curtains securely and heading back over to the bed, lifting a corner of the sheets up and crawling in next to your bare body.

You scooted under the sheets and cuddled into his slim side, playfully fiddling with a button on his open shirt and letting him wrap an arm around you as you dozed off, listening to the faint ticking of his wristwatch, feeling utterly fucked out and exhausted. He fought his own fatigue, considering getting up and leaving you in case someone found the two of you up here, lest it be Jean, but you felt so cozy and close, he couldn't bear to disconnect and leave you alone for the night.

He wasn't entirely sure what would become of this drunken rendezvous encounter that you may not remember entirely, knowing very well it was likely he may never find himself loving you like this again. He loved Jean, he very much did, but he wondered if you would accept his flowers as easily as you had accepted his sex? Jean was most definitely a complicated, intelligent woman and he wasn't sure if you were in the same vein as her, but it wouldn't surprise him if you were. Was he drawn to any other type, really? Women were fascinating to explore, a close second to the hidden world of quantum physics.

Robert studied your pretty sleeping features in the dim lighting and then closed his eyes, letting the orange aura of the room drift the both of you away far off into nothingness…

(Thanks for reading and if you really liked this, please let me know! I'm rather new to Cillian Murphy and not well versed at all in writing one of his characters with smut, but there was just something I found so attractively compelling about him as Oppenheimer especially, so maybe this is a bit self-indulgent, but he's such a great actor that is also very sexy of course.❤️)

[floralcyanide]

𝐂𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝑠𝑦𝑚𝑏𝑜𝑙 𝑘𝑒𝑦: 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡 ✺ 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓 ✿ 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡 ☁ 𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤 ☼

𝖼𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗇!𝗈𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗋

- 𝗂'𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 ☁

- 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖼 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾 ☁

- 𝗂 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾 ✺☼

𝖼𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗇 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗉𝗁𝗒

- 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 ✺☼

- 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 ☁

- 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌, 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌, 𝖺𝗉𝗈𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗒𝗉𝗌𝖾 ✺☼

- 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖻 𝖨 ✺☼

- 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖻 𝖨𝖨 ☁

- 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖨 ☼

𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘭 𝘭𝘦𝘸𝘪𝘴

- 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖻 𝖨 ☼

- 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾 ✺☼

- 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖨 ✿

𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘯

𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯

𝗃𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖾

- 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋 ✺☼

- 𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗐 𝖺𝗅𝗉𝗁𝖺𝖻𝖾𝗍 ✺☼

- 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖻 𝖨 ☼

- 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗎𝖻𝗅𝖾 ✺☼

- 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖨 ✺☼

- 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖨𝖨 ✺☼

𝗃𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗇𝖾𝗋

- 𝟥𝟢,𝟢𝟢𝟢 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗍 ✺☼

- 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖨 ✺☼

[mrs-bond]

Beautiful story. I loved how the reader was supportive to Oppie by hugging him and comforting him. Also, I can relate to this story a lot because I'm very IDK around people. I see that Robert likes the reader too.

for oppie maybe he meets a foreign student when he is studying abroad like in the beginning of the movie in germany? he is so stressed then he could have used a friend… loved your exam piece so i thought maybe you would like an idea like this ❤️

An Unexpected Friend

Hi there, I hope that this is something along the lines of what you meant. My first ask, so I’m using that as an excuse if it’s crap! I ended up writing a little more of myself into this than I meant to. 🤣

I should probably warn that Oppie ends up having a bit of an existential crisis incase that bothers anybody. But yeah, please read and enjoy, any feedback or further requests are much appreciated.

Robert Oppenheimer was thoroughly fed up. He was twenty two and in the middle of a real dip in his life. The last year that he had spent studying at Cambridge had been nothing short of a disaster. He was starting to doubt himself intellectually for the first time, he felt as if he was losing his identity. Though he would be hard pushed to admit it, he also felt as if he had nowhere to turn, his friends all seemed to be meeting women, some making the more permanent choice of settling down into early domesticity, leaving him feeling completely alone in the world. This was where his decision to pack his bags and move to Germany had come from, to try and reinvigorate his love of physics if nothing else.

He was on an overnight train, headed to Gottingen for the place at the university that he was taking up. He was dosing in and out of sleep, waking up for the third time since he had finished the sandwiches that he had bought before he left the station. The lights of the carriage were slightly dingy, yet he reached for the book that he had been reading earlier that evening, a newly published physics paper, hoping to get a bit more reading done before he arrived.

After about half an hour of reading he was fully awake again, concentration completely engaged, only to be pulled out of it by a knock on the door of his compartment. He opened the door to find a girl, about the same age as him, carrying a suitcase and with a reticent look on her face.

“I’m really sorry to bother you Sir, I got onto the train at the last station but I can’t find any seats, all the other compartments are dark and I didn’t want to disturb people if they were sleeping.” Robert ran a hand through his hair in contemplation, then moving away from the door to let you in.

“It’s alright, I’m on my own. We can share it for the night. I’ll warn you that I’m planning on staying awake for the rest of the journey though, so the light will be on.”

“That’s not an issue, I’m probably going to read anyway. I’ve always been a dreadful sleeper. Thankyou, Mr?”

“Oppenheimer, Robert. And you are?”

“Y/N.”

~

You had both started the evening with your noses buried in books, trying to be quiet and not disturb each other. Robert had uncharacteristically broken the silence when he realised what you were reading a volume of Plato. You started a discussion between you about how philosophy and physics could be compatible with one another, learning that you were both heading to the same university to study your respective subjects. When you got off the train you agreed to meet up soon.

Over the first few weeks of your time at the university you saw each other a lot. Neither of you were hugely social, of course making some friends through your courses, but you certainly considered Oppie as your closest. You met up most evenings, sometimes going out to eat at a local café, but most often just reading and working on assignments or papers in silence. It was always nice to know that you could talk if you wanted to though.

It was on one of these evenings that Robert started an unexpected conversation.

“Y/N, I was wondering if I could ask you about something. I don’t want to put any pressure on you, but it’s just been bugging me recently.”

“I’m all ears Robert, go ahead.”

“Do you ever just walk into a room and feel like everybody in it hates you. That you open your mouth and everybody just thinks ‘what the hell is this idiot going to start on about now’.” He was saying everything very matter of factly, though it was clear that opening up to someone wasn’t easy on him. You paused briefly, trying to decide how to respond.

“People that you know, or just everyone?”

“Everyone. Although it’s easier when it’s just new people, you can just put up a facade for a bit, you know. Convince them that you aren’t as bad as you really are.”

“I guess I kind of know what you mean, I ended up with a bit of a complex because my mum used to ask me not to talk about my interests. She used to say she didn’t want to know because she didn’t understand, I don’t think she could handle the fact that I knew more than her. It kind of gets better though when you make some decent friends… the complex I mean. What’s so bad about you anyway Robert?”

“All I’ve ever done is academics, I don’t have a personality outside of that. I hate making friends and nobody ever understands me. I went to Cambridge and got stuck doing lab work, I was hopeless, just couldn’t do it.” His fragile facade was starting to drop now, you could hear it in his voice. “I couldn’t even manage the one thing that I’m meant to be good at. Without my science who the hell even am I?” He was trying to hide it, but you had noticed the few small tears that had fallen from his cyanic eyes.

You moved from your seat to be beside him on the sofa where he was sitting himself, wrapping a gentle arm around his shoulders. Given how reserved he usually was, the picture of perfect manners and politeness, it caught you off guard when he wrapped both of his arms around you, burying his head in your shoulder. It was rare to see him so vulnerable, it was the same of any man really, but it was strangely gratifying that he trusted you enough to be around him like this.

“You are J Robert Oppenheimer. You are you Robert, and that is enough to ask of anyone.” You spoke firmly. “I can’t speak for the rest of the world, but I certainly don’t hate you. In fact, I think you’re the best friend that I’ve had in a very long time, and I’ve had my share of identity crises as well.” He pulled back from your hold then, sitting up straight.

“Is this feeling ever going to go away though? I can’t bear it, I just can’t.”

“It will, it will take time but you will get past this. Both of us are learning who we really are, and when we do we’ll be all the better for it.

“Would you mind if I hold you, just for a bit? I just need to know that somebody’s here, with me.”

“Of course I don’t mind. In truth, it’s been a very long time since I’ve been able to feel this comfortable with someone.” With that, he put a heavy arm around your waist, pulling you securely into his side.

“Robert, I promise I’m not going anywhere.”