#jim 28 days later

[kittenonpluto]

Cillian Murphy | beaten, bloodied, and bruised feat. : Red Lights (2012), Peaky Blinders (2013-2022), Free Fire (2016), The Delinquent Season (2018), & 28 Days Later (2002)

#cillianmurphyedit #cillianmurphygifs #tommyshelbyedit #peakyblindersedit #redlightsedit #tombuckleyedit #freefireedit #thedelinquentseasonedit #28dayslateredit #cillian murphy #tom buckley #red lights #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #chris free fire #free fire #the delinquent season #jim delinquent season #jim 28 days later #blood cw #injury cw #*casgifs #this is in no way comprehensive lol

[pedropascallme]

OH GIVE US SOME JEALOUS JIM!

Think He’d Do What I’ve Done?

Pairing: jealous!Jim x f!Reader

Summary: "He knew it was ridiculous, knew that what the two of you had was nothing short of intense, something wonderful and miraculous that had come out of catastrophe. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of embarrassment surrounded by these people while the girl he loved was seemingly ignoring him."

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral (f & m receiving), fingering, p in v sex, creampie, cum play, praise kink, overstimulation, dom/sub dynamics (dom!Jim x sub!Reader) (listen Jim FUCKS I do not make the rules), if I missed anything please let me know!

AN: Your wish is my command! Sorry that this took so long, but good lord I had fun writing it. I will always be a slut for dom!possessive!Jim it's not even funny.

Jim was indebted to the people that surrounded him in the house he stood in; Hannah’s family, however distant they may be, had made an amazing effort to ensure you all had a fresh start in America. The cousins and aunts and uncles and whomever that stood around the living room, sharing well wishes and anecdotes, who had provided housing and employment opportunities, were all so kind. So he didn’t like the voice in the back of his head that told him otherwise when he looked over at you.

One of Hannah’s cousins had an arm around you while you admired the different pictures sitting on the mantle. Jim watched you laugh at whatever remark he was making and scoffed, disillusioned by the way your eyes shined up at the man when you spoke to him.

He knew it was ridiculous, knew that what he had with you was nothing short of intense; something wonderful and miraculous that had come out of catastrophe. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of humiliation surrounded by these people who bordered strangers while the girl he loved was seemingly ignoring him. After all that, it seemed as though every time you found yourself in a room with these relatives, this cousin found his way to you, and you to him. It had Jim silently fuming.

Jim left the gathering early, only muttering a goodbye to Hannah, who, for what it’s worth, rolled her eyes at his obvious melancholy.

“You’re not waiting for her?” In true fourteen-going-on-forty nature, Hannah pried.

Jim mumbled a noise of rejection, padding out of the house and heading for the apartment he shared with you.

~~~

“You left early!” You walked back into the apartment you shared with Jim, jokingly accosting him the moment you crossed the threshold. Jim didn’t look up from his spot on the couch, flicking through the TV channels and bouncing his leg.

“Didn’t think you’d notice.” He was dry, and you felt your heart somersault at his cadence—he felt his do the same. He knew he was acting like a child, but he didn’t know how to confront what in his mind was an issue.

“Course I noticed,” you shook off your jacket, dropping it on the coffee table in front of him, “you alright?” Jim shrugged, and you sat down on the couch next to him. You watched him continue to browse TV channels.

“Hannah’s cousin likes you.” It was blurted and came out as more of a shout than a statement; it caught you both off guard.

“No he doesn’t.”

“I didn’t say which one.” Jim was brooding, upset that you were further proving his point without even trying. He shut off the television and set the remote down next to your jacket on the table.

“You—you didn’t have to, I know who you're talking about,” you looked at your hands, folded on your lap, “but he doesn’t.”

“Do you like him?” Jim followed your line of sight, looking down at your hands. He felt a knot forming in his stomach; the concept of such strong feelings that had nothing to do with the need to survive made him anxious.

“Jim…” You looked up at him, brows knit and lips curving up at the edges, “are you jealous?”

“N—” he tried to protest before you cut him off.

“You are.” You grinned, and he could see the devious glint in your eye. “You think I want him.”

“Didn’t say that.”

“It was implied.” You crossed your arms, somewhat offended that he could think you would be able to look at any man the way you looked at him, but pleased by his possessive nature.

Jim reached around you and rubbed up and down the back of your neck, and you playfully turned your head away from him, hoping he would put in the work for whatever answer he wanted. When you moved your body away from his, you felt the hand resting on the back of your neck stop moving, taking hold of you in a gentle, haughty manner.

“Look at me,” he asked nicely, and so you did, “think he’d do what I’ve done?”

You smiled, enjoying the way he responded to your teasing, “I don’t know. Maybe.” You batted your lashes and Jim pouted. “Depends on what you think you’ve done.” You felt the hand he had on your neck tighten, and a shiver ran down your back.

“Think he’d kill for you?” The air felt thick around you, and you remembered how much you enjoyed Jim’s more domineering moments.

“No.” You whispered, tilting your head up in the hopes that he would give in.

“Do so much for you, don’t I?” He smiled, and you saw the Jim you fell in love with shine out from under the dominant exterior he had fashioned for himself tonight.

“Show me what you do for me.” Your pleading was acknowledged in seconds when Jim grabbed you by the waist and helped you find the proper footing to straddle him. You moaned into his mouth, and he made quick work of the top you were wearing, throwing it blindly onto the floor. You ground your hips down into his, and you could feel the gentle friction of his growing erection against your clothed core. The kisses were messy, teeth clacking gently against each other as you licked his tongue. You pulled away from Jim, who moved down to your neck and chest, marking you with love bites and licking gently at your pulse points. You pushed him back onto the couch, wordlessly lowering yourself to your knees and beginning to undo his zipper.

“Baby…” He smiled down at you, head resting on his arms as he leaned back into the cushion of the couch. He helped you remove his cock from the confines of his jeans, stroking himself. “Open.”

You opened your mouth wide, happy to let him take control, to prove that you were his and his alone. He watched as you placed a kiss on the head of his cock, taking his length in your hands and shooing his own hand, still loosely holding the base of himself, away. You moved your wrist up and down, steadily taking more of him in your mouth as you did, using the spit that dribbled down his shaft to lubricate the motion of your hand. Jim let out a breathy chuckle when you managed to fit most of him down your throat, running his fingers through your hair and pulling stray strands out of your face.

“God—yeah, like that.” His jaw was slack while he analyzed every move you made. “Just like that, sweetheart.” You tried to smile with his cock in your mouth, getting another huffed laugh from him, before you returned to your prior movements. You licked the tip of his cock in a circular motion, pumping up and down with your hand, before attempting to take as much as you could into your mouth. You repeated these gestures to Jim’s delight.

“Fuck, so good—fuck, that’s it, oh my god, baby.” He tugged on your hair in a half-hearted effort to remove you from his cock, but you allowed yourself a few more bobs up and down before listening to the message he was sending.

Jim cupped your cheek in his hand, his thumb wandering over your swollen, saliva coated lips. “So good for me.”

“All for you.” You found a steady rhythm for your breathing.

“That’s right.” He pulled you in for a kiss, letting the spit on your face cover his own mouth and chin. “Do you like sucking me off, baby?” You nodded, eyes hooded and pupils blown out; you wanted to tell him that you could go down on him for hours, but the words wouldn’t come out, head too clouded with need. “Want me to show you more? Let me show you how good I can make you feel?” It was rare that Jim became this controlling, but you felt it go to your cunt every time he did. You nodded again, and Jim stood up, removing what remained of his clothes—and of yours—before easing you onto the couch and moving your legs to rest on his shoulders as he knelt in front of you.

“Say please.” Jim kissed your inner thigh.

You might’ve rolled your eyes under different circumstances, but something about his tone and the way he nipped at your leg turned you into the picture of obedience. “Please, Jim…”

“Please what?” He grinned, perfectly aware of how torturous his treatment was.

“Please,” you were getting impatient, and he knew it, you could see in his eyes how much he relished watching you squirm, “please fuck me, Jim—touch me, please, please.”

His smile turned into something more sinister when he heard you beg, and it was only then that he dove into you. You felt his tongue make contact with your clit and you yelped, the sudden and intense feeling making you jump under his hold on you. He tightened his grip on your legs, holding them firm against his shoulders so that your thighs all but engulfed his head. You could feel the vibrations of his moans travel through your body, and you wriggled underneath him when his tongue broke past your entrance and he licked gently into you. You couldn’t tell what was his spit and what was your wet, everything seemingly running together—and you didn’t really care, either. He suckled on your clit and teased a finger into you, looking at you intently while you came undone for him.

“Think he could do it better?” He moaned into your core, and you were broken out of your haze mostly by the shock that he still had the time to be jealous while he was buried between your legs —though not dissatisfied by the way he managed to show you who you belonged to while forcing you to acknowledge it.

“N—o!” You squeaked at him when his finger hit your sweet spot.

“Think anyone could do it better than me?” He continued to hound you between licks over your bud, fingers rubbing gently across the spongy spot inside of you.

“N—just—fuck, just you! Only you, Jim, only you.” You moaned, pleasing him immensely and motivating him to press down just a bit more on your g-spot while he sucked harder on your clit. Your legs, weak with gratification, shook in their spot on his shoulders, and you felt the fire that had started in your stomach spread across your body. He continued to lick stripes up and down your clit, finger still curling inside you while you rode out your climax.

“That’s right,” Jim kissed your dripping hole, noticing the way you flinched when his breath fanned the now sensitive area, “only me. All for me”

You moaned a pitiful confirmation, and he stood up. He rearranged you so that you were lying properly on the couch, head propped up by a pillow next to the cushioned arm.

“Gonna let me show you more, now, yeah?” You trailed a hand down his stomach, looking up at him from your spot underneath him as he straddled your legs. “Wanna let me fuck you into the couch?” You sighed dreamily, nodding with enthusiasm. “So good f’me.” He lined himself up with your entrance, continuing to whisper praises down at you, before pushing his cock into your desperate cunt little by little.

“Fuck, Jim!” You couldn’t help the expletive; no matter how many times he fucked you there was still so much joy in the way he filled you up to the very brim.

“Good, yeah? Feels good, sweetheart?” He bent forward and pushed your legs up more to allow him to fit deeper inside your cunt.

You whined, eyes screwed shut and lips parted, as he pressed his cock into you. You felt him bottom out, and he brushed his fingers over your cheek, kissing you gently across the face.

“Want—will you—will you fuck me?” You encouraged him, wanting—needing—him to move, to let you enjoy the way he pumped in and out of your pussy.

“You want me to move, baby?” He cooed, leaning forward to whisper into your ear, “Want me to fuck you nice?”

“Please!”

“Say it, then. Say my fucking name.” His breathing was labored, a product of the effort it was taking to hold himself back.

“Please, Jim, I need you to fuck me, I need it, Jim—I need it!” You felt like crying, the way he filled you up and mocked you was entirely too pleasurable. Hearing you beg as if you were on the verge of tears was all he needed, and he pulled out until the tip of his cock was just barely kissing your hole, before he thrusted deep and rough back into you. You cried out, feeling the friction from the way your back rubbed against the couch with each of his hard thrusts into you, and the way his hips rubbed against your own with every move.

“God, fuck,” Jim watched the way your eyes rolled back after a particularly deep plunge into you, “gonna fuck you like I own you.”

“Y—oh! You do—Jim! You do!” You were so far into your own pleasure, you weren’t even sure if the words had come out properly or if they had been reduced to gibberish between the time it took for them to travel from your brain to your mouth. But when you heard him growl in your ear you knew he had heard you, and it registered to you both what you had said.

“Yeah?” His voice was laced with care but was so outwardly assertive, “yeah, I own this fucking pussy.” He raised your legs to rest them on his shoulders as they had when he’d eaten you out, and he used them now as leverage to bend you backwards so his cock was seated as far as your body would allow him. His name fell from your lips continuously as he pounded into you with seemingly no regard; he managed to pick up the pace slightly and your eyes watered, overwhelmed by the sensation of being used to the fullest extent and absolutely loving that you had this effect on Jim.

“Gonna fucking cum—fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he was panting, chest rising and falling rapidly in sync with his thrusts, “tell me—tell me how you want it, sweetheart, tell me.”

You didn’t respond fast enough to satisfy him, and you whimpered when his hand came down to smack your clit, then gasped at the way he soothed you by rubbing tight circles on the bud.

“Tell me.” He grunted.

“Want—Jim!—please, please, want you to cum in me! Please—please, Jim, need—need it inside.” Your back arched up in response to his ministrations, and his hand that wasn’t massaging your clit came up to squeeze your leg to his cheek.

“Fucking—oh, hell, gimme one more, baby, please.” The mask of dominance slipped slightly when Jim began to beg for you to cum one more time, “cum on my cock, baby, I’ll give you what you need—all for you, fuck!—good girl, my good girl…” He placed kisses onto your calf, still holding it over his shoulder while he fucked you stupid. You felt his cock sliding in and out of you, every vein catching against your walls and the fat head of his cock nudging the spots that you could never reach on your own. He felt velvety inside you, and the way he spoke only heightened your pleasure, the promise of feeling him fill you up with his cum only spurring you on further to reach your peak.

“Ji—I—fuck!” You choked out a string of profanities, punctuating each with a gasp of his name as you came for him. He smiled into your leg, turning to look down at your face to watch your eyes roll back and your mouth hang open while you came on his length. He felt the way you clenched around him and the sheen that your cum added to his cock, his own head lolling back as he felt himself fall over the edge.

Still squirming under him, overcome with the strength of your second orgasm and the way he continued to use your spent cunt, you felt him paint your insides with his load. He moaned out your name, still shallowly thrusting in and out of you, admiring how your pussy milked him for every last drop he had to offer you. You whined, needy and messy and fucked out, and he gave your clit a final few swipes with his thumb, smirking sadistically at the way you cried out at the overstimulation. Jim began to pull out of you slowly, eyes glued to your hole to observe how the mixture of his cum and yours leaked out of you and down over the curve of your ass, dripping over your asshole and thighs. He leaned down, pulling your legs open to lick and kiss at the mess the two of you had made.

“Jim!” You squeezed your legs together, thighs pressing against his ears. He came up from between your legs, licking his lips, before he brought himself up to your face to kiss you softly. You wrapped your arms around him, and you could feel the pressure of his chest against yours as he rested his weight onto you.

“Too much?” He whispered after a while of heavy breathing and fingertips tracing over one another.

“No…perfect.” You squeezed him closer to your body, lips grazing his ear. “You’re right, y’do so much for me.”

Jim laughed against you, and you shook with his chest, “I do two things for you—kill and cum.”

“Hope you only have to do one of those things from now on.”

“I plan on it,” he smiled, then deadpanned; “you mean cum, right?” You pushed him away playfully and he laughed. Scooping you up into his arms, he let you rest yourself against him, letting the liquid seeping out between your legs trickle down onto him. He hugged you to his chest, eyes suddenly heavy and body light with satisfaction. “I’d do anything for you.” He whispered, breath fanning the top of your head.

You pawed at his chest, eyes closed. “I know you would. Feeling is mutual.” He cradled your head in his hands, “He doesn’t like me—Hannah’s cousin—he doesn’t. He’s married. You’ve met his husband.”

Jim felt you smile into his skin, and he felt himself go red, embarrassed that he hadn’t made the connection, but too blissed out and used up to backtrack and claim he had known all along. “I love you,” he chuckled, “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” You looked up at him, cozy and content with your position on his lap, “would’ve said something earlier, but I like when you get possessive.”

“Thanks for letting me prove a point.” He rubbed your back, head falling against the couch cushion behind him.

“Always happy to help.”

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #oppenheimer #peaky blinders #peaky blinders smut #thomas shelby #tommy shelby smut #28 days later #28 days later smut #jim 28 days later x reader #28 days later jim x reader #28 days later fanfiction #jim 28 days later

[cilri]

#cillian murphy #28 days later #jim 28 days later #cillian murphy gifs #cillian murphy 2002

[kiss-me-cill-me]

could you write a fic about any cillian character, of ur choice, were its the readers first time and he is really sweet and gentle? Luv your writings btw!!!

Any character, you say...? 👀 Well, then I guess it's time to take a shot at my white whale. I love zombies, I love 28 Days Later, and I love Jim. I have been somewhat avoiding writing for him because I didn't feel like I had any strong concepts for a fic, and I struggle to get his "voice" right in my head for the dialogue. But gosh darn it, the world needs more Jim fics. And I feel like this prompt just fits him. Thank you for the request, anon, and for giving me the push I needed!

Morning Light

Pairing: Jim (28 Days Later) x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: In a rare moment of peace in a strange new world, you and Jim find comfort in each other's arms.

Warnings: Smut, loss of virginity (for reader, not Jim), oral (f receiving), praise, brief mention of past attempted sexual assault (basically what happens in canon), for the purposes of this fic we're gonna pretend that Jim doesn't get shot in the stomach lmao

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Jim’s lips taste like something you can’t quite put your finger on. Whatever it is, it has you swooning. Dizzy with desire as you inhale; trying to steady your breath while your hand trails down over his bare chest.

“We really don’t have to,” he murmurs.

“I know,” you reply. “But I want to.”

You lean in for another kiss. Bodies pressed so tightly together, laying on the rickety little bed in the tiny cottage you now call home, you truly do want nothing more. Jim, stretched lazily out beneath you, brings a hand up to cup your face and deepen the kiss. Your senses swell with that scent, whatever it is, and your eyes flutter closed against the light that streams in through the windows.

“Are you sure?” he asks, pulling away again, just enough to speak.

His nose still brushes softly against yours, and his thumb trails over your cheek. You feel yourself melt deeper into his touch, almost too distracted to remember to respond.

“I’m sure.”

“But… really? So soon after…”

You know what he’s about to say. What he doesn’t want to remember; choosing instead to let himself trail off as he smooths his fingers over your jawline. But that - that horrible thing that almost happened - is all part of the reason why you want Jim so badly. You want your first time to be with him. To be special; with someone you truly care for. 

Years and years ago, when all of your friends had been so desperate to grow up and run headfirst into their sexuality, you had been content to wait. But now, things have changed. Being alive suddenly feels fragile and impermanent, and your dangerous encounter with the soldiers has taught you that life doesn’t wait for you. Nor does it wait for that perfect moment.

Although, this moment here with Jim does feel somehow perfect. Jim’s body against yours is warm, and even with both of your sweaters flung over the side of the bed, you feel a heat washing over your chest as Jim wraps his strong arms around you a little tighter.

“Jim, are you really the nervous one here?” You laugh, your voice a bit airy and high as it betrays your own nerves.

“M’not nervous,” he scoffs. “I’m just… I don’t want to hurt you, or force you into anything.”

You let your body sink into his. Jim pulls you even closer, pressing your weight into his chest. Your forehead rests lightly against his, noses still touching as you laugh again.

“Girl gets you naked in bed like this, and you still think you’re forcing her?” you tease.

“Well, fair.” Jim relents. “You were the one who took off my clothes.”

Jim nuzzles into another kiss as he speaks, breaking some of the tension and making you clutch at his chest. This time, his lips linger against yours a little longer, parting just slightly so the tip of his tongue can dart out. You feel the ache inside of you deepen, your body calling out to his.

“But you’re sure, though?” Jim asks again. He moves his hand to your shoulder, steadying you. “You do want to? We don’t have t-”

His words are cut off by your hand drifting lower, until your fingers are wrapped tightly around him. Despite Jim’s insistence that you don’t “have to,” it’s abundantly clear that he wants to.

His skin is like silk under your fingers. Your hand moves slowly up and down, coaxing him on as you bite at his lip. Jim breaks the kiss to lean his head back into the pillow, eyes still shut as an expression of bliss overtakes his features.

“Okay - you’re sure you haven’t done this before?” he jokes, one blue eye cracking open to look at you.

You try to contain a laugh.

“Don’t flatter me,” you tease back. “It’s probably just been months since you’ve gotten any…”

“Ouch, insulting my masculinity and yet she still expects me to fuck her.”

Jim meets your sly look with one of his own, just as your expression crumbles into embarrassment. His smirk quickly turns into a smile, seeing the effect his words have.

“And she likes a little dirty talk, does she?”

Your face heats up even more, and Jim kisses the tip of your nose. 

“Sorry, love. Just can’t resist teasin’ ya,” he hums.

Despite your inexperience, you feel certain that you’re not supposed to feel this flustered. But, Jim has that effect on you. He always has. The pressure that’s been steadily building between your legs suddenly feels even more uncomfortable.

“Having second thoughts?” Jim laughs as you wriggle against him.

“You wish,” you challenge, pressing your nose against his a bit harder.

Suddenly, Jim grabs your waist and flips you over, so that his weight is pressed over you. He sinks a kiss into the hollow of your neck - still gentle, but with a hint of lust now that’s becoming impossible to ignore.

“Guess I might as well just give in if y’want it so badly,” Jim whispers, his breath fanning hot against your chest.

His words send a thrill of excitement through you; bursting out from your lungs and rushing all the way down to your toes. You bring your hands up to his shoulders, clinging to him as he pulls away from you. You’re confused for a moment, until he looks up into your eyes as he sinks lower down your body.

“How’s this?” Jim starts. “First I’ll eat you out, an’ then we can see how you’re feeling.”

The air seems to catch in your throat, but you nod. Jim plants a soft kiss on your stomach before drifting lower, hands parting your legs so that he can settle in.

“Lucky me,” Jim says, taking a long look at you. “Pretty face and a pretty pus-”

“Jim!” you cry, covering your face with your hands.

He kisses the inside of your leg, teasing with a gentle nip of his teeth.

“Ah, don’t get all shy on me, now,” he murmurs.

You look down to see a devilish glint in Jim’s eyes, staring back up at you. They’re so blue, you think you could drown in them. But, you fight to shake yourself out of the trance.

“It’s hard not to when you’re… looking at it,” you complain, laughing nervously.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed - I mean it. You’re beautiful.”

Your cheeks burn hotter than ever as Jim continues.

“Every part of you is beautiful.”

He kisses your leg again, and before you have a chance to respond, his lips have moved over your core, and you gasp. Jim’s mouth is warm and wet; his tongue pressed flat against you as he gives you a moment to get used to the sensation. It’s so different from anything you’ve ever felt. Of course, you had touched yourself there before - but Jim’s tongue is nothing like the rough pads of your fingers. It’s so soft, and you feel yourself sink further into the mattress, prompting a low creak from the ancient bedframe.

Jim’s tongue moves just a centimeter, brushing up against your clit as he sucks gently into his mouth. You can’t help the soft sigh that leaves you, or the way your fingers grab onto the bed sheets, fabric bunching up in your grip. 

“How’s that feel, love?” Jim asks, breaking away.

“It’s… wow,” you answer, already a little out of breath.

“Rave reviews,” Jim jokes, smile creeping back over his face. “Tell all your friends, yeah?”

You have half a mind to shove him, if only you could find the willpower to reach down between your legs. As it is, all you can do is let out another breathy sigh. Your body feels strangely heavy, and you use every ounce of your strength to move your hips down toward him.

“Jim… more,” you plead.

You expect him to make another quip, but instead, you feel his tongue press against you again, the fan of his breath tickling you as he sighs happily. Your fingers curl, and your back arches. One of Jim’s hands comes up to find yours, peeling your fingers out from the blankets so that they can intertwine with his. You squeeze his hand, feeling yourself grow more and more desperate as the swirl of new sensations overwhelm you.

“J-Jim-”

You barely get to start your sentence before the pleasure reaches its peak, washing over you like the rays of soft sunlight still pouring in through the windows. Your sharp cry turns into a gasp, breath hitching as your whole body seems to buzz. Jim’s hand in yours anchors you, as his lips kiss you gently through your release.

When he sits up, Jim’s face is just a bit too smug.

“What are you smiling at?” you groan, throwing your head back into the pillow to stare up at the ceiling.

“Making you feel good,” Jim answers sincerely.

He kisses his way back up your body, finally pressing his lips to your shoulder and leaving another small bite.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

You sigh, letting all of the air leave your lungs. The pause lingers for a brief moment before you answer.

“Like I’m floating.”

“That good, huh?”

You can practically hear the smirk in Jim’s voice. Weakly, you bat at his arms.

“Don’t get all cocky,” you warn.

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Jim really is unbearable. You look at each other for a moment, Jim’s eyes fixed intently on your face, while you can still hardly focus on what’s in front of you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Still want to keep going?” Jim asks you.

“Mmmm,” you sigh, nodding your head.

Jim’s hand slides down to cup your sex, one finger brushing against your entrance. He leans up to kiss you properly, pausing at the feel of your tongue in his mouth as you press past his lips. Whatever you had tasted there before was gone; replaced by your own slightly tangy arousal. Jim groans, and a deep hum fills your mouth.

“Let me know if you want me to stop,” he whispers.

But as soon as he pushes past your resistance, you know there’s no chance of you stopping him. The stretch is too good. You’ve done this before to yourself, too - but your fingers are slender compared to Jim’s. His fill you up and have you nearly seeing stars as you cling to him, moving to grasp his arms for support.

“Feels good?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. The stretch only stings a little bit, and you’re so wet you barely even notice. The pleasure takes over as Jim pumps in and out of you, coating his finger with your slick.

“One more,” you beg.

“Be patient,” Jim scolds, as he continues to slowly work you open. “Try to relax a bit more.”

You do; letting your body settle down onto the mattress. As you relax your muscles, trying to focus again on your steady breathing, Jim kisses the edge of your jaw.

“Okay,” he says. “Tell me if this is too much.”

Despite your best attempts to loosen up, the addition of a second finger is just a bit painful, stretching you beyond anything you’ve felt before. You jump, a little surprised, then relax into the feel of it.

“Still alright?”

“Mmm-hm,” you reply, breathing slowly out through your nose.

“Good,” Jim breathes. “Doing so well for me, love.”

His words make you melt, and you feel yourself clenching around his fingers. Jim lets out a low moan.

“Fuck,” he laughs. “You’re gonna feel amazing. Can’t wait ‘til you’re wrapped around me.”

There’s that familiar heat on your face, rushing in as Jim makes your whole body burn with his words yet again. Not as filthy as before, but somehow the genuine lust in his voice is even worse. You feel him yearning for you; still pressed hard against your leg as he patiently stretches you out. You tilt your head back into the pillows, silently begging him to kiss your neck, and Jim’s lips press over your pulse.

“Jim?” you sigh.

“Hm?”

“Can you please stop stalling and fuck me now?”

You feel Jim smirk against your neck, clearly enjoying the fact that you have a dirty mouth, too - when you want to. He presses one more kiss to your collarbone.

“Stalling, am I? First time I’ve heard a girl call it that.”

Jim laughs, briefly, and you feel his breath fan over you again.

“I’d ask if you’re sure you’re ready,” he taunts. “But I really don’t think I’ve ever made anyone this wet before.”

You’re so turned on you almost forget to be embarrassed, but the feeling of Jim shifting to line up with your entrance is enough to make that burning heat creep over your cheeks again.

“Are you ready, though?” Jim asks, kissing you quickly before pulling back to let you answer.

“I am.”

You reach up to wrap your arms tight around him again as he sinks into you, pressing forward inch by inch. Your eyes widen by the time he’s halfway in, shocked at how it just keeps going. Jim feels your hesitation and stops.

“Everything alright?” he pants. Clearly, Jim is having a bit of trouble composing himself, too.

“It’s fine,” you reply. “Just… big.”

Jim laughs, a little more strained than usual as your walls press all around him.

“You’ll really have to stop stroking my ego like that if you want this to last more than five minutes, love,” he teases.

“Jim…” you start to complain.

“I know, I know. ‘Shut up and fuck me,’ she says,” Jim mutters. He presses into you a bit more, and a soft, desperate sigh leaves your lips. “Or at least, she would if she could think straight,” he continues.

He’s right; you’re not thinking of anything other than him, and how he’s filling you up so completely. Stretching out your walls and touching places inside of you that you didn’t know even existed, until now. Replacing the dull ache of your arousal with an unfamiliar pressure - but certainly not an unwelcome one.

“How’s it feel?” Jim asks.

“It’s… different. Feels kind of weird,” you admit.

“Okay, you don’t have to keep my ego in check that much,” Jim laughs. His eyes meet yours for a brief second, and then close. “But, fuck, you feel so fucking good.”

Jim’s face dips down to your shoulder, and you can tell that he’s barely still able to hold it together. Although you had been joking earlier, you’re certain that it truly has been months for Jim. You can’t say for sure when the last time he got laid was, but it had to have been before the start of everything. Poor guy. This is the perfect opportunity to mess with him. Call it payback for all the teasing.

“Alright,” you sigh, trying to keep your voice light and jovial. It’s harder than it should be when your heart is pounding out of your chest. “I got what I wanted out of you; we can stop now.”

Jim groans above you, his forehead pressing even deeper into the crook of your shoulder.

“You’re joking,” he whines, one hand gripping at your waist. His fingers tighten a little. “Please say you’re joking.”

You stay silent, lips pursed together in a barely-contained smile. Jim pulls back to look at you, and instantly notices the smug look on your face.

“You’re unbelievable,” Jim huffs, pressing his lips against your neck once again in a hungry kiss.

He pinches your hip, making you squirm. Jim steadies you, holding you in place as he plants another kiss on your lips, then pulls back.

“We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet,” he teases.

“You mean the good part wasn’t watching you almost cum all over the sheets just from eating me out?”

Now it’s Jim’s turn to be flustered, and you watch with delight as a soft dusting of pink crosses his cheeks.

“You’d better watch it,” Jim says, squeezing you again. “I was gonna be gentle, you know. But if you keep this up, I might just have to fuck you silly.”

You giggle, the sound of your bright laughter filling the room. For a few seconds, the only thing in the world that matters is Jim. Every moment that’s brought you here, no matter how painfully etched in stone, is worth it to be here with him.

“Will you, though?” you say, bringing Jim’s face a bit closer so yours can look into his eyes. “Be gentle?”

“Of course,” Jim hums, leaning down to kiss your soft lips. “Are you still feeling okay?”

“Yes…”

And you are. You've gotten used to the stretch, and the strange pressure has built into a need that has you fighting to stop yourself from pushing up against Jim’s hips, desperate for friction.

“You sure?” Jim asks, sensing that something has been left unsaid.

“I just… I want to feel you move,” you admit, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

Jim turns his head to kiss your temple, letting his lips hover over your warm skin.

“That's the good part, love,” Jim teases. “Wrap your legs around me,’kay?”

You do as he says, bringing your legs up to fold around his waist. It causes Jim to hit at a new angle inside you, and for a second you think about backing out. This feels like it could be too much; like he's able to press too deeply inside of you - and the thought of giving someone else so much of yourself is daunting.

But when Jim starts to move, gently and carefully, all of your worries disappear. The first few times he thrusts feel a bit strange, but soon, the feeling is making you lightheaded in the best possible way. Not to mention the way that the swell of his head seems to part you, making you clench at his absence and sigh in pure bliss when he fills you back up. You can feel every inch of yourself as he slowly rocks in and out, hips staying close to avoid overwhelming you.

“Jim!” you cry, squeezing your legs around him a little harder.

“You like it there?” he grunts, his voice gentle but laced with desire.

He changes his angle to hit the spot again, and this time your fingers press into his back. Jim kisses you, swallowing your moans as you feel yourself building toward your release. This time, with Jim pressing deep inside you, you feel yourself clamp down around him.

“Gonna come for me again, pretty girl?” Jim whispers.

Your body is too rigid to even nod as you feel it finally wash over you - a wave of pleasure more intense than you can handle. You're panting and laughing all at once as Jim presses kisses all over your face.

“That was incredible,” he praises, softly. 

You look up to see him, his face framed so perfectly in the glow of the morning light. His lips are slightly parted, awe plainly written in the way his eyes trail over you. You have a sudden urge to run your fingers through his cropped hair, and press his mouth to yours.

But instead, Jim leans down to give you another gentle kiss. That taste on his lips is back again, slightly sweet and utterly addictive. 

“Enjoy your first time, love?” Jim teases, pulling himself out of you with one final, toe-curling drag. He kisses you again, lips pressed firm against yours like there’s truly nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.

You surface from your post-sex haze just long enough to be confused. Aren't these things supposed to end with a little more… bravado?

“Jim, aren't you gonna…? Don't you want to…?”

“Not this time, love,” he cuts in. “Like I said, don't want to hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me!” you protest.

Jim pauses, still hovering just above you. He leans down to whisper in your ear, his low voice getting a shade darker.

“Maybe not, but I do think I might break the poor bed if I let myself do everything I want to ya,” he murmurs.

“We can sleep on the floor,” you say, responding without hesitation.

Jim laughs softly, trailing his fingers over the swell of your hip. He pulls back to look at you again, blue eyes swimming with lust.

“Don't worry, love - you look so good like this, I'm not gonna be able to resist it for long. But for now…”

Jim flops down onto the rickety bed, pulling you with him to rest on his chest. The rhythmic rise and fall of his breath makes you feel calm, soothing you all the way down from your high. Jim brings a hand up to cradle your neck, pressing you into him just a bit more so that he can lean down to kiss your forehead.

As you lay there together, your eyes flutter closed.

“Jim?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” he scoffs. 

Same playful Jim that you first fell for, weeks ago now. You can't help but smile, and snuggle up a bit closer.

“For always being here for me,” you answer.

“Of course, love.” Jim's breaths are slowing down now, lulling you into the same sleep that he's quickly falling into. “Any time.”

You kiss him, lips pressing into his bare chest, and Jim’s arms squeeze you tightly. As the sunlight streams in through the dusty windows, blanketing both of you in its warmth, you realize just how lucky you are. You press an ear against his chest, listening to the thrum of Jim’s heartbeat.

#jim 28 days later #jim 28 days later x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #28 days later smut #jim 28 days later smut #LemmyFics

[skintyfiia]

jim!!

#my art #digital art #fanart #artists on tumblr #cillian murphy #28 days later #danny boyle #jim 28 days later

[mysaintkitten]

Primal | Jim x fem!reader

prompt: after narrowly escaping death, jim’s adrenaline is through the roof, and his instincts take over (NSFW, no minors)

WARNINGS: brief mentions of 28 days later plot, jim’s a little pushy (but it’s overall consensual), unprotected sex (p in v), praise, creampie

word count: 1.1k

this is an awkward length but all i can think about is buzzcut cillian 💔

as you and jim were out attempting to find some food, you heard the sound of heavy, quick footsteps approaching. out of habit, you both raise your bats. at this point in the epidemic you knew to carry blunt objects and weapons on you at all times, so you were prepared incase this happened. while you both had turned to see an infected charging in your direction, another was charging in the opposite direction behind jim’s back. as you swung your bat at the head of the one coming towards you, you heard jim hit the ground, groaning loudly.

your head whips behind you and you see jim on his back, an infected on top of him, wailing and grunting in his face.

“help! fuck! shoot it, y/n!” he exclaims, placing his bat between the infected’s chin and neck, pushing as hard as he could against it’s inhuman force. with shaky hands, you pull the revolver out of your waistband and pull the trigger, hoping to god that the bullet gets where it needs to go. jim scrunches his faces and turns his neck to the side, trying to avoid getting any of the infected blood in his eyes or mouth. the body goes limp above him, jim rolls the body off and quickly rises to his feet, using his dirty crewneck sleeve to wipe off the blood from his face.

“we have to go. now.” jim fretted, grabbing your wrist and dragging you towards the door at a quick pace. as you’re about leave, you hear the all too familiar grunts and gasps of another infected.

“run! quick!” he exclaims, essentially pushing you out the door as you two sprint back to your home base.

your lungs are burning, your body is tired, but you have to keep running.

finally, you’re home, you drop the bats and the weapons onto the floor.

“jesus christ!” you huff, back against the wall as jim slams the door behind him, quickly locking it.

both of you breathing heavily at the mixture of exhaustion and adrenaline cording through your veins. jim slips off the crewneck, revealing the tee he had on underneath.

“that was so close ..” he mumbles breathlessly, you nod in agreement, using the back of your hand to wipe the sweat off from your forehead, “i feel so alive, y/n ..” he adds, bringing his body to closer to yours.

you exhale softly, “yeah, me too, jim.” you close your eyes and attempt to regulate your breathing, until you feel fingers creeping around your waist and lips on your neck, your eyes shoot back open.

“jim? what are you doing?” you croaked, feeling a bit thrown off by his gesture, he moans softly into your neck, you feel his growing bulge graze your thigh,

“so close to losing it all … would’ve never been able to hold you.. or touch you again ..” he whines into your neck, nipping gently at the skin

you could feel his heart thumping through his chest,

“jim .. your heart .. take a breath, hun ..” you coo, placing your hand behind his head, running your fingers through the buzzed hair.

“i’m alive, baby. can’t you feel it?” he chuckles softly, pulling his head out from your neck to kiss you on the lips. it’s sloppy and eager, his grip on your waist tightening as he continues to rut against you.

before long, he’s detaching his lips and turning your body around, pressing your chest against the wall, now placing his chest directly behind yours preventing you from moving.

“jim?” you blurt out, feeling the air being slightly squeezed out from your lungs, “feel like a goddamn animal .. need to be inside you ..” he groans, hastily sliding your pants and underwear down from behind, exposing your bare ass and pussy.

he uses his free hand to unzip his pants, tugging his waistline and boxers down to free his flushed cock.

you feel him abruptly slide himself inside of you, giving you no time to adjust, “oh!” you gasp, your mind going blank at the sudden fullness,

he moans into the nape of your neck, gripping your hips roughly, “such a perfect pussy .. heaven on earth ..”

he snaps his hips inside of you feverishly, pounding into you at a quick and needy pace, it feels almost primal. like he’s in fucking heat.

“j-im!” you whimper, “slow dow-n a bit!”, you swing your hand behind you and dig your nails into his thigh,

“cunts grippin’ me too good .. can’t help it, baby ..” he growls, snaking his hand around to your front to rub quick circles on your clit. his relentless pace makes you feel like some sort of fuck-toy beneath him.

it’s all so filthy. his grunts, his pace, you whine loudly and your knees start to go weak beneath you. small huffs leaving your mouth as each thrusts connects to your ass. you feel yourself becoming embarrassingly close, maybe because he hasn’t fucked you this aggressively the entirety of your relationship. you had never seen him like this.

he feels you become slicker around his cock, “that’s it, come undone for me, pretty girl ..” he chuckles. his hot, shaky breaths sending chills down your spine.

“god, fuck, baby!” he groans, “gonna fill that pussy up .. ‘s mine .. all mine ..” he rambles, his thrusts becoming weaker and sporadic,

his words and his aggressive nature push you over the edge and you come hard around his cock, your legs nearly giving out from underneath you as he continues to fuck into you.

jim sees you go limp and feels your orgasm drip out of you slightly, he laughs breathily, “that’s it .. good girl .. such a good girl …”

after a few more shaky pumps, he’s coming inside you. mumbling praises about how good you are and how good your pussy feels, even a small ‘love you’.

his thrusts slow down to a complete stop before he pulls his cock out of you, still hard and flushed. he takes a step back and spreads you apart gently, watching as some of his come began to drip out of your used cunt.

“jesus ..” is all he can manage to say before placing a firm smack on your ass, you yelp slightly at the sudden sting.

he turns your body around and rubs his hand on your behind gently, soothing the sting with his rough hands. he kisses your lips for a few moments before pulling away to tuck himself back into his pants. you follow his lead and shimmy your pants back up.

“gotta get back out there, we didn’t find any food ..” he says, sliding his jacket on. he seemed to move on rather quickly, but for the rest of the day all you can think about is him, and how his come is gradually leaking out of you and into your panties.

—-

jim PLEASE let me hit it

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #jim 28 days later #i don’t think there’s much of a demand for jim LOL #but he’s so sexy #i hope y’all enjoy #:)

[rubeum-et-nigrum]

nobody asked, but 28 days later text post meme

#i spent ages searching for all these. like wow these things take time. a good good good amount of time. jesus #i hope this reaches it's intended audience tho. #28 days later #danny boyle #cillian murphy #naomie harris #christopher eccleston #brendan gleeson #selena 28 days later #jim 28 days later #alex garland #text post meme #films #bee.post

[loverhymeswith]

The End is Extremely Fucking Nigh

Day Two of the October Dreams 1K Follower Event

Pairing: Jim (28 Days Later) x F!Reader

Summary: Holed up in a tiny cottage with Jim, problems and feelings ensue. The title kind of sums it up.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Zombies (kind of), blood, guns, canon-typical violence, language

A/N: Shout out to @a-reader-and-a-writer for plotting this with me <3

“Oi. That fucking hurts.” 

Jim slaps your hand away with a scowl, tugging down his sweatshirt to cover the large bandage wrapped around his waist. The oversized jumper swamps his lithe frame - leaner since you’ve had to resort to rations.

“Well it hasn’t healed then, has it,” you remark, closing the lid of the makeshift first aid kit and stowing it away beneath the sink. “I told you it would take at least another week.”

“It’s fine,” he insists, his expression softening as he grabs you by the shoulders and squeezes. “I’m fine. Would you stop worrying?”

You’ve been this way for the last ten days - overly cautious and over-protective. Ever since Jim went and got himself shot by a bunch of trigger happy soldiers who mistakenly thought he was one of the infected. By some small miracle the bullet missed anything vital, but even so, he’s been out of action for a while.

“Maybe if you stop giving me reasons to worry.” 

You’re only half-joking. Right from day one, when you found him bewildered and wandering around outside the abandoned St Thomas’ Hospital, you knew he was going to cause you trouble. 

You hadn’t wanted company. Had actively avoided it, in fact. Even before the outbreak. You certainly hadn’t planned on rescuing anyone, let alone the enigmatic bicycle courier - you were barely surviving yourself - but after you’d intercepted Jim midway through his first encounter with the Rage virus, you hadn’t been able to shake him.

Six weeks later, you don’t know how you’d survive without him.

“How about I prove it to you, yeah?” There’s a spark in his bright blue eyes and his full lips upturn into the ghost of a smirk; he already knows you’re not going to like his suggestion. “I’ll go on a supply run.”

The thought alone is enough to make your stomach turn. The closest store is easily a day’s walk away and with a company of unbalanced soldiers roaming the nearest city, it’s far too risky to drive.

“Jim-”

“Look,” he releases your shoulders, sliding his palms along your arms until he reaches your hands. “We’re down to our last cup of coffee and I know how cranky you get without your caffeine.”

You’ve noticed it a lot lately. The jokes. The sarcasm. Once the initial shock had diminished and he got a hold of his grief, Jim turned to humour as a coping mechanism, determined to get you to laugh. To smile. And goodness knows, there have been nights when you’ve relied on it. On him. Nights when you’ve felt like giving up. Like falling apart. When the only thing standing between you and taking the easy way out - just as his parents did - is the man before you.

The fact of the matter is, your situation is dire. It’s not just the coffee. The food is running out. Clean water, too. 

“We’ll manage a little while longer,” you lie as he gives your hands a final squeeze and releases you. “Either that, or I can go by myself.” 

You’ve been unwilling to leave his side up until now. You couldn’t risk the chance that the infected - or worse - might descend upon your hideout while you were away, with Jim being far too weak to fight them off alone.

Paying no heed to your plea, Jim starts pulling on a worn pair of boots - a vestige of the previous inhabitants of this cottage, just like the rest of your clothes. He’s careful not to wince as he bends over, although you have no doubt that he’s in pain.

Straightening and facing you once again, he runs a hand through his russet hair. It’s growing out after the hatchet job he performed back when you first met. You hadn’t minded the severe look. It had certainly emphasised his features - high cheekbones, a sharp jaw, and of course, those piercing blue eyes.

But with his hair like this, just a little longer, he seems… softer.

“I just need to get out of this fucking house,” he tells you, shrugging on a thick jacket. “I won’t go far. Promise.”

You glance around the cramped kitchen and concede that your living arrangements have been somewhat confining. The tiny farm house on the outskirts of Manchester has less square footing than your old London apartment, which is an achievement in itself. But personal space doesn’t really factor in when you’re in the middle of the apocalypse. 

It’s not all bad, though. You’ve been sharing the single bedroom under the pretext of safety, but as the weeks have worn on, you’ve come to find Jim’s presence comforting. 

Some nights you wake before dawn to find his arms wrapped around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. By morning, he’s back to his side of the bed and you know better than to mention it. No matter how much you might have warmed to one another, the end of the world is no time for falling in love.

You follow Jim towards the porch and watch as he checks over the old hunting rifle, just one of a handful of weapons the two of you have acquired along the way. Neither of you knew a thing about guns before the outbreak, but you’ve had little choice but to become fast learners.

“At least let me come with you.”

Jim pauses with the rifle slung over his shoulder and one arm outstretched towards the front door, his expression uncharacteristically firm. “You need to rest. When was the last time you got some proper sleep?”

“As if I’ll be able to sleep while you’re gone…” Even as the words leave your mouth, you find yourself leaning against the wall, fatigue fighting your instinct to stay close to his side.

In an unexpected gesture of affection, Jim reaches out and brushes his thumb over the swell of your cheek. “Just sit tight. I’ll be back before it gets dark.”

Despite Jim’s request for you to sit tight, you find yourself pacing the cottage in his absence. You don’t begrudge him the need for space after being holed up in here for the best part of two weeks. Still, you’d feel more comfortable if he wasn’t alone. If he wasn’t still healing.

It’s difficult to pinpoint, but somewhere along the way your feelings towards him have shifted. At first, he was an unnecessary hindrance. A tag along, slowing you down. Quickly though, you had grown accustomed to his presence, his company undeniably preferable to being alone with your own dark thoughts. 

Yet it wasn’t until he’d been shot - until you’d almost lost him - that you realised quite how important he’d become. It was no longer a case of what he could do for you and more a question of whether you could exist without him.

Exhaustion finally claims you and against your better judgement, you find yourself curled up on the corner of the threadbare sofa, drifting off into a restless slumber. Every night since the outbreak, it’s been the same. You dream of crimson flowing through the streets. Of bloodshot eyes and burnt flesh. Of bodies piled high. Mourning all that you have lost. The past, nothing but a distant memory; the future, a destination you will probably never reach.

You wake with a start, plucked swiftly from sleep by the distant sound of tapping against glass. Your thoughts fly instantly to Jim. Scrambling to your feet, you grab the nearest weapon - a baseball bat - and nervously approach the door. 

The eyes staring back at you through the window aren’t the colour of a winter sky at all.

They’re red. 

Infected.

No.

The weeks of tending to Jim must have softened you. It takes a full ten seconds before your brain jumps into gear, recognising the danger for what it is. A death sentence. Because there’s more than one of them. A host of the infected, clawing at the cottage walls in a frenzied attempt to reach you.  

Suppressing your fear for Jim and praying he’s not among the swarm, you stagger back from the door and exchange the baseball bat for the second rifle. You can’t possibly hope to outrun the infected. The neighbouring buildings are at least a mile away and you’ve barely eaten in days. The best chance you have is to pick them off one by one. 

Providing they don’t get to you first.

It only takes another five seconds, just long enough for you to grab a handful of ammunition and ready the gun, before the first bloody hand breaks through the glass. With your heart in your mouth, bracing yourself for the kick back, you squeeze the trigger.

The explosion of the gun echoes throughout the small cottage, temporarily deafening you. When you open your eyes, the monstrous hand has disappeared only to be replaced by a face, coated in blood and filth and twisted into something no longer human. 

You allow yourself the briefest flicker of relief. It’s not Jim. Then, ears still ringing from the first blast, you reload the rifle and take aim. 

This time, the wooden door splinters as you miss the window. 

Shit.

The infected has its head and shoulders wedged through the small gap now. It’s snarling and spitting, crimson eyes wide and thirsting for blood. Your hands, once steady, are shaking, your fingers fumbling with the small golden bullets as you try to jam them into the magazine. 

Where the hell is Jim?

Your next shot finds its target. The infected - or what is left of it - slumps. But it’s a temporary reprieve. In the blink of an eye, the body disappears and another pair of glowing red eyes fills the window space. The onslaught is far from over

Shoot, reload, repeat.

Over and over again, you fire at the door until contaminated blood stains the cottage's wooden floor. But it’s no use. There are far too many of them. For every one of the rage victims you dispatch, another immediately takes its place. 

Further inside the cottage, a second window shatters. Your heart sinks.

You’re surrounded.

A wave of hopelessness pushes you back against the wall as you struggle to catch your breath. The door isn’t going to hold for much longer and there's nowhere to run. You attempt to reload the gun, but your bullets are finally spent, the casings littering the floor. Jim took the second box of ammunition.

Where is Jim?

As a last resort, you flee the porch and hurry up the stairs, locking yourself in the bedroom. Despite the knowledge that it will only buy you a matter of minutes, you huddle against the far corner of the room, clutching the empty gun. This is what it has come to. All these weeks of fighting for survival. The foolishness of daring to hope for a future. Your feelings for Jim. 

Jim.

If only you’d told him how you feel.

But in the end, none of it matters. It was all just borrowed time.

Tears of anger and frustration pool in your tired eyes. There’s banging and clattering and more glass shattering downstairs. The infected are inside the cottage now. You can hear their savage snarls as they scramble up the stairs. It was foolish of you not to save a bullet for yourself.

Any second now…

Too weak to put up a fight, you squeeze your eyes shut as the bedroom door crashes open, choking on a desperate sob. Death has been a constant presence these last weeks; you didn’t think you’d be quite so afraid when your time finally came. But just like the bullets, you’re fresh out of bravery. As you prepare to take your last breath, you send a silent prayer. Wherever you end up, you hope you’re not alone.

But death, painful and bloody, doesn't come. 

Your eyes flash open at the sound of heavy breathing - panting - and a strangled cry tears from your throat. The figure filling the doorway is a terrifying sight to behold: drenched in sweat and blood and wielding a crimson-coated baseball bat, a wild expression on their once-familiar face. It looks as if they’ve clawed their way out of hell.

But they aren’t infected.

You know it by the pale blue eyes staring out at you through the layers of dirt.

"Jim."

The sound of his name seems to break whatever spell he’s under, the ice cold rage in his expression melting into something like recognition as he steps over the infected body lying lifeless at his feet. Beyond him, the cottage has fallen silent. 

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse. “Are you ok? Tell me you haven’t been bitten.” 

“I’m ok.” You’re more than ok. Because he’s here, alive and uninfected. Because he’s saved you.

Jim’s shoulders slump with obvious relief and even with the gun pointed in his direction, there’s no further hesitation. He closes the distance to you in two long strides before pulling you into his arms, his gaze rapidly darting across your face. 

“I thought I was too late,” he rasps, cupping your cheek. “I thought I’d lost you. I can’t fucking lose you. Not after everything that’s happened. I can’t...”

You shake your head, afraid that if you open your mouth to interject, you’ll stumble. Or even worse, that with the adrenaline from your brush with death still coursing through your veins, you’ll say something stupid. Something like-

“I love you.”

You don’t have time to react, much less process Jim’s abrupt admission before his mouth crashes into yours and he’s kissing you. He’s kissing you like you’re the cure. It’s rushed and messy and desperate and so thoroughly Jim.

If he notices the tears that begin to spill down your cheeks he certainly doesn’t comment. If anything, he holds you tighter and kisses you harder.

With every brush of his lips, you can feel a piece of your fractured self falling back into place.

Perhaps the end of the world is the perfect time for falling in love.

October Dreams Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @zablife

#cillian murphy #28 days later #jim 28 days later #october #october dreams #cillian murphy fanfic #follower celebration #halloween #zombies

[hanawrites404]

So @pinguwrites mentioned about the backstories of Cillianverse characters and I am gonna give some of my insight on them lol.

Also, disclaimer. In this post I'm only gonna include the characters whose movies I have completed. But as I see more movies, I'll add their characters in the next post like this. I won't include Jonathan Crane (because I strongly stick to the backstory that DC comics has provided) and Oppenheimer (it's obvious why).

Now that I have established this, let's gets started ✨

Neil Lewis

Watching The Detectives

Neil was born in a family containing a single soccer mum and a big sister who is at least seven years older than him. Neil was shy as a toddler but would be very invested into something once you give him a chance.

He didn't change much when he got to his school days. He had his fair share of friends and answered in the class like an average student. But what was special about him was that he had the most unique stories. When it came to show and tell or small story writing, no one could beat Neil in terms of creativity (but somehow he never got a prize because his grammar used to be horrible).

At highschool, he was definitely a target for bullying, but luckily his friends always defended him. I believe he met Lucien and Jonathan during highschool too. Neil was a comic + movie nerd and he would randomly start to speak out facts about it whenever he finds someone to talk to, and many didn't appreciate that so he was also sort of an outcast. But he didn't mind that because he had his small circle of friends.

Neil was again, average in his studies. But he was such a theatre kid. He never got the main role but he used to steal the show, even if this mf is acting as a tree. He was THAT talented. He has also participated in sports events but ends up chickening out in most of it. Until one day he practised hard with his sister for a match against the rival school and 'accidentally' won his school the baseball trophy. Neil's mom has a photo of him crying with a red face and holding the well-deserved trophy high in his arms. We love our crybaby.

Neil graduated from high school and went into a decent university where he took film studies as his major, despite his mom and sister wanting him to join something that would make him 'rich and popular' like sports or music.

College Neil was an absolute blast. He had his own style, and he had a second-hand guitar from one of his seniors. He used to drive his sister's old motorcycle to college and he also learnt driving a car from her. Neil met Denise during his final year and after graduation, Neil with help of his sister and his friends opened the famous Gumshoe video store.

Jackson Rippner

Red Eye

Okay, for this. I really want to thank @/pinguwrites Jackson Rippner bot. It literally provided a very cool backstory that makes so much sense for someone like our thin-eyebrowed assassin. So I'm gonna copy paste some of it here + add some lines of my own.

Jack's parents were drug addicts and he used to live in a slum filled with junkies and small-scale criminals where no one had any honor or sympathy for one another. So the neighbourhood was always filthy and toxic. He has seen murders and robberies at such a young age. And poor boy had no choice but to learn how to fight and protect himself.

Things only got worse as he grew older. He had to join a gang because a child living alone in slums was as a good as dead. The gang would provide him food, clothes and shelter in exchange of stealing, killing and burning houses. He hated everything he did but he had to do it for surviving.

After years of being a criminal for his whole teenhood, he decided to quit it and do something good for once. So he joined the military. But nothing was good there either. With strict routine and rules, and the other recruits bullying him for his past. He used to get into a lot of fights with his peers and he had developed quite a temper there.

Everywhere was war and destruction. Never once that he was spared from witnessing violence and gore that Jack had gone numb from all of it. From feeling disgust and anger, he now loves watching people suffer, especially if he is causing their pain.

He left the military to start everything again, but he couldn't get any ordinary job because he didn't have any formal education. However, he was noticed by a secret association of assassins and contract killers. The agency took Jack in and taught him all and everything which is needed to become a spy.

Also, I highly believe Jackson Rippner is not even his real name. It would be something else that his parents used to call him but he would rather have someone use his alias than his birth name (it brings bad memories).

Jim

28 Days Later

Jim didn't have anything crazy going on with him (at least before the apocalypse lol). He has had a loving family who supported him throughout his life. But what's mysterious and wierd about him is that he was an ordinary bicycle courier man, *yet* he managed to sabotage what, 10-12 soldiers single-handedly?! That ain't male hormones dude, that's something else 😭

So, I at least think that he used to do something more before becoming a delivery man. Perhaps something like a sports player, or a security guard of some complex or maybe he was still a courier man! But of more heavier objects like crates of fruits or something. But one thing is for sure is that he was a guy who would rather do odd jobs than a 9-5.

Also, canonically the director of the movie has described him to be a soft-looking man with a body strong as an iron, and that's so real y'all. Jim throughout the movie was underestimated until the end where he ended up becoming the hero of the whole show. And you know what, we love that.

Also, I don't think he ever had a girlfriend before. And Jim gives strong virgin vibes yet knows where the clit is.

Jim

The Delinquent Season

Jim was a simple boy. He also didn't have much crazy going on with his childhood too. He was quite a smart student and a straight-A kid. His parents were strict regarding his grades and behaviour but they raised him normally. He had his fair share of playing around, partying etc. But nothing hardcore, and Jim doesn't like it that way anyway.

He got into a reputed college away from home and must have studied something sophisticated like law or psychology. Jim in college only focused on his studies and didn't have many friends. He was quiet and light academia student who spent most of his time in library or alone in his desk at his dorm. He calls his parents once a week and that was it.

He has worked from home since the start and met Danielle after two years. Then a year after he married her and had kids.

Raymond Leon

In Time

Ray is almost similar to Jackson in this case. He was born in timezone 12, also known as the ghetto. Where one minute is like a year for the people who live there. Ray's parents worked at the factory and had died quite early in his life due to a hazard that occured in their workplace. So he was adopted by his uncle who ran a pawn shop. He was a great role model and a second father to Ray. His uncle's dream was to see the world outside timezone 12. And naturally, Ray took on that.

He helped his uncle to run the shop and he used to venture out and doing odd jobs to bring some time. He also learnt how to do trade and gamble as it was one of the main sources of income in timezone 12. Ray was given basic education by his uncle and other skills such as cooking, driving. His uncle had made Ray into a fine and independent man, and for his 25th birthday, his uncle gave him a handgun.

Until one day when Ray was coming back from his work, he finds his uncle dead and bleeding on the floor. Not only his hard-earned time was stolen, the thieves had stabbed him in the chest five times. Ray was devastated and mourned for his only guardian's death. He blamed himself for not being there for him when he needed him the most. But what burnt inside him more was anger and revenge.

With all the skills he had gained while being under his uncle, he was able to track down the thieves. They were not some ordinary robbers but an infamous gang who like to steal from people with a lot of time. He has seen them in the gambling bars many times and it was time to end their reign. Ray had managed to outsmart and kill everyone in the group. He genuinely felt disgusted but also satisfied murdering them.

A few days later, Ray was approached by the head of the Timekeepers who had tracked him. They detected time being lost but not stolen. Ray had not stolen even one second after killing the group. It made the timekeeper intrigued by the young man. Ray was offered to work under him, and that's how Ray got out of the timezone 12 forever.

Robert Capa

Sunshine

The sun god™ himself. Our beloved Robert was a prodigy in science. Since his childhood, he had always wanted to see a proper sunrise from the horizon of Sydney. He helped his family with the winter while also planning out ways that he can bring out sunny days like it used to.

His room was filled with posters of Icarus I and its crew members. He wanted to be like them but also didn't want to be like them. He wanted to be the reason humanity would feel pure sunshine on their skin but he also didn't want to fail and just disappear when they were *this* close to revive the sun. He opted physics as his passion and had dreams of how earth used to be before it went into the phase of eternal winter.

During his training for venturing into space and fulfilling their mission, Robert was quite determined too. He got acquainted with the rest of the crew members but he usually kept everything to himself. He was only focused on bringing the sun back and returning to see his parents and sister.

I also think Robert has synesthesia. He has a vivid imagination and can sense colours and sounds at the same time. That would really explain his last scene.

Anyways, that's all for my rant. Thank you for listening. Part 2 will come soon once I have watched enough movies.

#cillian x reader #cillian murphy #sunshine #red eye #the delinquent season #28 days later #watching the detectives #in time #raymond leon #robert Capa #jim 28 days later #jim the delinquent season #neil lewis #jackson rippner #jackson rippner x reader #neil lewis x reader #raymond leon x reader #robert capa x reader

[graciepasty]

Jim. 28 Days Later (2002).

#aesthetic #moodboard #28 days later #zombie #zombie apocalypse #jim 28 days later #cillian murphy #apocalypse aesthetic #apocalypse #cillian x reader #the smiths #zombie movies #favourite movie :(

[akimao]

part 3

Cillian Murphy as Jim from 28 Days Later 🧟‍♂️

---

wip

#he looks like stiles...but he is not stiles #😂 #My series of - love Cillian Murphy - continues #my art #akimao #cillian murphy #28 days later #jim 28 days later #digital art #speedpainting #portrait

[mnightshyamalantwist]

28 Days Later + Reductress headlines

#I'm just gonna do this all my favorite movies #28 days later #reductress #reductress headlines #cillian murphy #naomie harris #jim 28 days later #selena 28 days later #brendan gleeson #christopher eccleston

[pedropascallme]

u said u are always looking for a reason to write jim smut so let me deliver bc i’m actually so fixated on this movie it’s CRAZYYY!!!!! anyways i would like like a build up to a confession kind of? like there’s so so much romantic and sexual tension and it just like breaks and yeah😭😭 idk if that makes any sense but yk!! ok thank u so much!!! you are amazing dude

In Our Perfect Present Tense

Pairing: Jim x f!Reader

Summary: "And where had this sudden, deep infatuation with Jim come into play? Was it sudden?"

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), p in v, fingering, praise kink, Jim can be soft!dom if I say so!! Allusions to canon typical violence, I know Cillian Murphy is 5'8 but Jim is 6'2 in my mind, if I missed anything please let me know!!

AN: Max you make my heart go badumbadumbadumbadum (good) I hope this is to your liking <3 Also continuing to cross tag my Cillian fics because my Jim fics rarely gain traction so we are trying some METHODS.

The cottage was so quiet.

You could hear Hannah shift under the blanket and sigh in her sleep, and though seeing her so peaceful made you feel a pang of protectiveness, watching her chest rise and fall, your mind was elsewhere. Maybe you were still in London, or Manchester, or anywhere else; maybe this was all fake and you had died somewhere along the way. Was this Heaven? Or maybe Purgatory, given that nothing seemed to have changed much.

And where had this sudden, deep infatuation with Jim come into play? Was it sudden?

No. You closed your eyes and his face flashed across your mind; eyes you wanted to drown in and cheekbones sharp enough to make you bleed. Maybe that’s why you kept him around in the first place. You’d never had to help him, save him from the congregation that chased him down the road; never had to take him to your hideout in the underground. At first, (and you knew this for a fact, at least) it was simply because Mark…bored you. He was cheesy and had a chip on his shoulder, and you didn’t like how he looked at you—didn’t like that he seemed to expect you to fall in love with him. Jim made a good buffer. And it helped that he had such kind eyes that seemed to be full of fear and morbid curiosity, and that he was, in every sense of the word, pretty.

You hadn’t been sad when you’d had to kill Mark.

But once you had made it clear to Jim that you didn’t want to fall in love with him, either, your snap judgement fogging your mind, you thought that was the end of it. Thought maybe he would go out like Mark did. And was it really your fault that Jim assumed you didn’t care about him? You didn’t. You wanted him to think you didn’t. Wanted him to think that he was essentially on his own when you ran up the stairs to the top floor, with his head splitting in pain and your legs going as fast as they could carry you. But when he came up to you that night to apologize to you, thank you, hold out an olive branch, it was then you realized that you felt isolated. And, yes, doomsday will do that to you, but it wasn’t just that. It was that even when humanity was rearing its ugly head, Jim still had the time to recognize and respect you; he was willing to put you first in a way nobody would’ve done even if their life didn’t depend on it.

You felt so guilty that night, touching yourself under the covers with everybody else just a few rooms over.

It was one thing to be wandering around the desolate city with him as your only company, but once you had Frank and Hannah (and a car) you felt like maybe, just maybe, there was hope. There was a glimmer of something behind Jim’s eye when you were eating out on the countryside after ransacking the supermarket—and it could’ve been the way the light was hitting him, or the way he laughed with Hannah, or the fact that he was eating fruit for the first time in weeks, but you thought maybe it had something to do with you. Maybe he had figured out that you did care. About him and about the state of things and about what the hell you would do if there was any sort of relief from running away. You thought about kissing him then, and he might’ve, too. There was a certain tenderness in the way he curled up next to you that night, under the stars.

In another life, he might’ve done it for reasons other than keeping warm.

And then, of course, that all came crashing down. It had been too good to be true, and in retrospect you hated yourself for allowing any harm to come to your small posse. You got out alive, but the hope you had was minimal, at best. Was alive good enough anymore? Was alive good enough when you’d fought off every evil you could think of in the span of 12 hours?

No. It wasn’t until Jim turned around, soaking wet and bleeding, that you realized that being alive was no good if he wasn’t there with you to enjoy it. You’d wanted to wrap yourself in him, to feel the sweat and blood caked on his chest and kiss him until you lost consciousness. Instead, you crumpled to the floor in the red dress that had been forced upon you, hugging yourself to his shins and begging him to tell you he was ok. It was mortifying, only made slightly more bearable when Hannah lobbed a bottle over his head. At least you knew there was still humor to be found in the worst of situations.

Shortly thereafter, when Jim got shot, you were certain that it was all over; you might as well follow him out. Maybe you would’ve if it hadn’t been for Hannah crying silently next to you as she floored the gas and begged you to stay. To do something. For once you felt like you had people worth fighting for other than yourself. It made you dizzy.

Which brought you back to the present.

There were two rooms in the cottage; both were damp and smelled like the lint from a dryer, but having a bed was enough. You had discussed the sleeping situation the night of your arrival, and there had only been some mild bickering.

“I’ll sleep on the floor. S’ok.” Jim remained gentlemanly throughout, but it was apparent, to you, at least, that the person with the bullet hole through their stomach should be able to sleep comfortably.  

“Hannah and I will take one, you’ll take the other.” You were blunt, dancing around the subject of who would end up sharing by deciding then and there to divide it based on sex.

“Wha—” Hannah began to protest before deciding to shut her mouth.

“It’s really not that big a deal,” Jim stood his ground, “I’ll find something to rest on.”

“Absolutely not.” And that’s where you ended it. Saving face, dismissing any deeper urges, leaving no time for Hannah or Jim to propose a different arrangement.  

But now that you were somewhat settled, it felt wrong to be in this room. The wallpaper was a reflective pink, and it felt too bright even in the pitch-black night. You couldn’t get comfortable, and all you could do was mull over every past interaction you’d had with Jim. Every interaction, and the way his mouth moved when he spoke, and the way he smiled at you, and the way he had quite literally killed for you—nearly been killed for you.

You felt hot. Nauseous, even, to the point where you felt that you had to move around or take a walk or do anything to feel more at ease. But it just so happened that you felt the most at ease around Jim.

You tiptoed across the floor and into the hallway. You almost didn’t bother knocking on the door, but felt that you at least owed him that decency.

“C’m’in.”

You peered into the room, allowing yourself a small view of Jim’s shirtless figure splayed out on the bed. You smiled, feeling shy out of nowhere.

“Just wanted to check on you.” You excused yourself, not wanting him to think it any more odd than it already was for you to be in his doorway at midnight. “You feeling ok?”

“Better than ever.” Jim crossed his arms behind his head, sitting up against the pillows. You could see the bandage on his abdomen, and his skin covered in a ray of moonlight.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He smiled, patting the mattress to encourage you to sit with him. You closed the door behind you. “Why’re you really up?”

“Honestly?” You paused to build tension, leaning in slightly, “Hannah snores.” Jim chuckled under his breath. “And…and I don’t really feel at home in that room.”

“Would you feel more at home in this one?”

“Maybe…”

“’Cause if you’d like it, you and Hannah could have it. ‘V’always wanted pink wallpaper, anyway.”

You rolled your eyes, “No, that’s—it’s not that.”

“Then…?” Jim tilted his head slightly, and you looked down and away from him, inhaling deeply.

“Can I stay in here tonight? With—with you?” You could feel your pulse in your throat and though he responded almost immediately, you felt as though hours were passing.

“Sure, f’course.” Jim nodded; eyes wide with eager bewilderment. You swing your legs over the mattress, straightening yourself out beside him. You looked up at the ceiling, lying on your back and waiting to fall asleep.

“Closer.” Jim whispered.

“Hm?”

“Y’can come closer. If you want, I mean.”

“Oh…yeah.” You shuffled closer to him. Somehow you ended up spooning, his hand draped hesitantly over your waist. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, and his breath blowing against the hairs on the back of your neck.

“Comfortable?” He was still whispering, as if he would wake the crickets if he spoke any louder.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah…” You both fell silent again, and you wondered if he could feel the tension, too, or if it was something you had just made up. You turned over to face him.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke, though his eyes were closed, and you thought maybe he had already fallen asleep.

“For what?” His eyes were still closed when he responded.

“For—you know…” You reached out to graze your fingertips over his bandages, withdrawing it just as quickly when you realized that what you were doing was so forward.

“You didn’t shoot me.”

“I didn’t stop you from getting shot.”

“Not much you could’ve done. Three of us and more of them.” He opened his eyes, “Plus, you drugged Hannah, so just the two of us, really.”

You buried your face into the pillow, “Was trying to help.”

“You did.” Jim reached out to goad you from your hiding spot. “Been nothing but helpful since I met you. Consider this me returning the favor.” You managed to peek an eye out from the pillow to look at him smiling at you. He was so gentle. How could a man who had been comatose while the world was thrown into shambles remain so empathetic?

“Didn’t want you to get hurt.” You mumbled, barely audible when the words came out through the pillow.

“Didn’t want you to get hurt, either. Think I went to all that trouble for myself?”

“No.” You brought your head up to fully look at him.

“Exactly. You would’ve done the same for me.”

“You say that with so much confidence.”

“Cause it’s true. Cocky, but it’s true.”

“It is.”

“True?”

“Cocky,” you smiled when he feigned defeat, “but also true.” You quieted again, keeping eye contact with one another. Jim’s smile faded slightly.

“Why did you help me?” He asked.

“Hm?”

“In the first place, by the gas station—why did you help me?”

You didn’t know how to answer. “I needed the company.”

“You had company.”

“I needed company I would enjoy.”

“What if I wasn’t enjoyable?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I was willing to take that risk.” You raised an eyebrow back at him, mocking his curiosity and his pushback. “And…I mean, plus, you were…I d’know. Tragic. And pretty.”

“Pretty?” His other eyebrow shot up.

“And tragic.” You giggled. “It’s not like I saw you tearing down the street screaming and thought that you only deserved help ‘cause you were good looking, it was just—it’s why I kept you around.” You rolled your eyes, trying to stop yourself from sounding too sincere, unsure if Jim was willing to recognize the attraction you had toward him. Unsure of whether or not you were willing to admit it right here, right now.

“You liked me.” Jim teased.

“I like you,” you clarified, “Present tense.” You averted your eyes from his gaze, opting instead to look down at his wound once more. He gawked at you, grinning. Placing a hand on your chin, he redirected your gaze to his face.

“How long have you been holding out on me?”

“What?”

“How long’ve you been wanting to say that? Not since day one, hm? Since we went to my parents’ house?”

“Didn’t want to say it,” you huffed, “wanted to help you stay alive.”

“C’mon, all that talk about how you didn’t care if I fell in love with you? Cared more than you let on, I knew it. Could’ve saved us so much time if you just came out with it.”

“Shush.” You tried not to dwell on his words, the realization that, this whole time, he was waiting for you.

“Say it again.” He gleamed, “say it again.”

You took his hand from your face, holding it in your own. “Jim,” you brought his hand to your chest, “I like you.”

You couldn’t take a breath before he was on you. You felt his lips first, plush against your own, and then his hands over your waist and his legs tangling with yours. For someone who had almost bled out less than a week ago, he was shockingly quick on his feet. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the release of weeks’ worth of tension that had been festering inside of you when his tongue slipped between your lips. You moaned, hands grabbing at any part of him you could reach: You felt his chest against your own and ran a trail down his spine with a finger, feeling him shiver at your touch. He ground his hips into you slightly and you reached for his arms, pulling him in as close as you possibly could.

“Knew it.” He whispered when you pulled away for air. “Knew it.” He began sucking on your neck, running his tongue over your pulse point and licking stripes down your throat. You gasped at the feeling, still trying to touch him wherever you could. You found yourself stroking his jawline while he sucked bruises onto your chest, feeling the way his cheeks hollowed when he made an especially strong mark.

“Jim—” You pleaded, trying to touch him, feel him, all around needing him. It was almost all too much.

He returned to eye level. “Mm?” He kissed your neck again, soothing over the fresh hickeys. “Tell me what you need.”

“You—need you.”

“C’mon,” his grin returned, “specifics.”

“Please,” you needed to feel everything, everywhere, “fuck me.”

“God, sounds so pretty coming out of that mouth.” He stood up from the mattress, pulling you up slightly to allow him to disrobe you. It didn’t take much effort; the threadbare clothes you were trying to pass off as pajamas had already practically disintegrated the moment you had put them on. He shucked his bottoms off before retaking his place on top of you in bed.

“So fucking beautiful,” he kissed you again, “so, so pretty. Wanted to make you feel so good f’so long.”

Feeling confident, you cupped his cheek in your palm, “touched myself thinking about this.”

“F—when? Thought about me while you touched yourself? Tell me.” It was a breathless demand, and you could feel his erection throbbing above you.

“The night in the apartment. Came on my fingers, came so hard while I thought of how good you’d fuck me—oh!” Your sexy display was cut short when you felt his fingers brush your clit.

“Yeah? Touched right here and thought of how nice I’d fuck this pussy?” You whimpered at the way he massaged you just right, and his words only added fuel to the fire. “Should’ve just asked me to take care of you, baby, would’ve helped.” God, he was wicked. Such a good man, and so, so wicked for speaking to you like this. You arched your back, and he took the opportunity to slide two fingers into your cunt. “Fuck,” he huffed, delighted by how wet you were for him, and your eyes rolled back, “get yourself this wet? Or is it just me?”

“You, fuck, Jim—it’s you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Cocky bastard.” You managed between whines and gasps.

“You love it.”  He continued to push his fingers in and out of you, and a delightful squelching noise filled the bedroom. “Fucking beautiful.” He kept at it for a while longer, enjoying the noises you made for him and the way your face contorted when he hit an especially sensitive spot. When he pulled his fingers from you, you sighed, feeling the low of being empty, until he brought the wet digits to your mouth and encouraged you to clean them off for him. He let out a low groan when you began sucking, using your tongue to gather your slick off from in between them. “Yeah, good girl.”

He slotted himself between your thighs, and you could feel the drag of his cock over your stomach. You looked down, wrapping a hand around him and ogling him; so long, so beautifully outlined by thick veins. He gently grasped your wrist, pushing your hand back onto the mattress.

“Wanna make this last.” He half-joked. He kept your arm pinned under him, and you could feel his tip exploring your folds, until finally he pushed himself into you. You let out a shaky, breathless moan as he shallowly thrusted into you, working you open to take him as deep as you could. When he bottomed out, he leaned his forehead against yours, and you could feel the stickiness of sex and sweat on your skin.

“Good, yeah?” He was still being smug, though ensuring you were comfortable. You felt devious, rolling your hips against him and grinning in response, earning a choked “fuck” from him. “Dirty fucking girl.” He pulled out almost entirely before thrusting back into you, forcefully enough that you felt your back drag against the bed. Your tits bounced as he rocked his hips into you, and he took the opportunity to grab one in his hand, taking the other in his mouth.

“Jim!” You couldn’t remember your own name, could barely remember who you were or how you got here; all you could think was Jim, Jim, Jim. “Fu—uck, oh my god, Jim!”

“Gonna wake up the whole neighborhood?” He was incapable of being serious even in the most intimate of moments, knowing full well that the people in this house were the only living souls for miles. “Gonna make sure everybody knows who’s fucking you?” Your lips parted, letting out small moans and whimpers of his name with every thrust.

You could feel his fingers on your clit again, and the feeling was electric; maybe it was because you had wanted him for so long, and tried to deny it for almost as long, but you’d never felt this good—never felt this perfectly sated. The way he kneaded your swollen bud while pounding into you hard enough to make the bedframe shake, the way he whispered such filthy things into the skin of your breasts, the way he wanted you too.

“Gonna—Jim, I’m gonna cum!” You tried to move in sync with him, but it was all too much; he was everywhere, and it was going to be your undoing. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to fuck you deeper. He leaned over you, tracing his fingers down your cheek before grabbing your face in one hand.

“Cum for me, baby. So good, my perfect girl, cum on my cock like this.” You were as good as gone. You felt your legs tighten around his body at the same time as your cunt clenched around his length. You dug your nails into the skin of his arm, and he growled at the way your body responded to him. “Yeah, like that—just like that, sweetheart.”

You were trembling, dripping down his cock and unsure of how to rationalize this amount of pleasure in the midst of end times. Who cared, anyway? You felt fuzzy, barely registering Jim’s words as his strokes became messier and rushed, catching up to you with his own high.

“Want it inside,” you mumbled through your haze, “please, inside.”

“Can’t fucki—can’t say that baby, can’t risk it.”

“Please…” You knew how stupid it was, knew that he would have to say no, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try.

“When we get out of England—when we get out of England, I’ll fill you up as much as you want. Yeah?” He slammed himself into you, and his words bounced around inside of your head: “When we get out,” “as much as you want.” If you weren’t so spent, you’d cum for him again from that statement alone. “Promise I will, whenever you want it, baby.”

“Mm.” You sighed contentedly at his assurance. “Tummy.”

“Yeah, good girl, gonna paint you with my cum.” He groaned when you reached up to brush your fingers down his happy trail.

“Give it to me. Please, Jim. Needed it f’so long.” Your mouth hung open, sensitive and sore from his cock and his hands, and somehow still so needy for him, desperate to see him to completion. He buried his face in your neck, breathing in your scent and letting your moans fill his ears as his hips stuttered and he pulled out. You felt his knuckles against your stomach as he stroked himself, finally feeling the warmth of his spend land and spread across your abdomen with a long moan of your name. You stayed like that, both of you breathing heavily, Jim lying on top of you. The gluey feeling of his cum on your stomach and your own between your thighs only heightened when he sat up on his elbow, looking down at you to appreciate how pretty you looked after being fucked out, and you could see the strands of cum dripping between your bodies.

“So beautiful.” He kissed you again, and despite the passion from the last kisses still being present, he was significantly gentler with you in your bleary state.

You blinked up at him, smiling through the fog in your brain, and hugging him close to you. “Gonna have to change your bandages. Covered in your own cum.”

“But what a way to go, right?” He laughed, and you buried your face into him further. “Tomorrow,” he promised. “Need a towel?”

“Would it be gross to sleep like this?”

“Gross? No. Uncomfortable? Maybe.”

“I’ll take my chances. Too tired to wash off.”

“As long as you’re alright.” He brushed your hair away from your eyes, maneuvering himself to look down at you while you were pressed to his chest.

“Feel amazing.” You reassured him. “Should’ve said something earlier.”

“No,” Jim pet your hair, smoothing it down over the back of your head, “this was perfect timing.”

“Perfect timing.” You murmured his words back to him in agreement.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #28 days later fanfiction #jim 28 days later #28 days later #jim 28 days later x reader #28 days later jim x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby smut

[indiee19]

Quick lil sneak peak at a Cillian Murphy fic I’m writing.

Jim (28 Days Later…) x reader

—————-——•—————-——•—————-——•

The kiss was sloppy, to say the very least, but neither of you cared, just glad to finally taste each other after such a long time. Jim quickly deepened the kiss by biting on your bottom lip, allowing him to ease his tongue into your mouth, finessing your tongue into submission. His hands left your face to wander your body. After wandering your body for a minute, he finally settled on your breasts, feeling then through the thin silk fabric of your camisole and your bra.

He squeezed roughly, which made you fall back into reality, realizing that they had dinner not long from now. Reluctantly, you pulled away from the kiss, taking Jim's hands away from your chest. He looked at you, worried he'd done something wrong. "Jim, we can't ... Not right now, not when dinner isn't in that long," you stated, looking him directly in the eyes. 

You could see in his eyes lust, though. And that look wasn't going away anytime soon.  Quickly, Jim leaned in to kiss you again, mumbling against your lips. "Fuck that. I've not been inside you for weeks. They can wait a little bit for us," it was all mumbled but you squeezed your legs together, which didn't go unnoticed by Jim.

He smirked against your lips as he maneuvered one of his hands between your legs. He smirked as he felt you close your legs tighter around his hand. Jim parted from your lips and pushed you down on the bed, beginning to work on leaving marks on your neck, reclaiming you as his. 

Your hands wasted no time as they made their way to his head, gripping his hair the best you could with how short it was.  As he worked on your neck, his hand had managed to push your thighs apart and made its way into your shorts, rubbing your slick folds through your lace underwear.

In response, you moaned. You hadn't felt his touch in what felt like forever. Hell, you  barely remembered what his touch felt like. His skin was soft as it normally was after he'd gotten out of the shower. His body was warm against your own.  It gave you a little glimpse into what the world was like, what your world was like, before the infection began. 

Jim's touches were tender, trying to savor the feeling of you for as long as he possibly could. And though he tried to prolong the foreplay, he couldn't help himself and desperately needed to feel you around him.  So, he quickly pulled his hand away from your core and out of your shorts, to your dismay, of course. He pulled down your shorts and lace underwear in one go, throwing them to the floor. 

You quickly got the idea and helped him pull his shirt off of him. Then, you quickly began to undo the button on his pants and pull them down so that he could kick them off. Now, you could feel his hard cock more now, making you let out a slight moan. 

You felt Jim smirk against your neck as he slowly moved his way down your body to your heat. Once he reached your core, he looked up at you and smirked before licking a bold stripe up your folds, causing you to shudder. He held your thighs in a tight grip, spreading them further until he could properly bury his head between your legs. You pushed his head down as he licked and sucked at your clit. 

You let out a loud moan as he pushed two fingers inside of you, and very quickly, you covered your mouth with your other hand. 

It had been what felt like forever since he last tasted you on his tongue, and he wanted to savor it. Jim skillfully ate you like he always did before the outbreak and his accident. He shook his head into you, lapping at your soaked core until he built up that coil in your stomach. 

"Fuck, Jim, I'm close," you moaned. And then he raised his head from in between your legs, removing his fingers from you. "What the fuck, Jim? I was so close!" You complained, the feeling slowly disappearing. 

"I know, but I want you to cum around my cock," he said before raising over you and lining his cock up with your entrance. 

Then, he pushed into you, the two of you moaning at the tight, hot feeling that neither of you have felt in weeks. "Oh, fuck," he moaned as he sank all the way into you.

#cillian murphy character #cillian murphy #cillian #jim 28 days later #28 days later #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #smut

[kiss-me-cill-me]

Can we get a part 2 of morning light where Jim gets to do all the things he wants to do to her 🙏

Okay, you've all convinced me. The world clearly demands more Jim, and who am I to deny the world? Nothing too crazy going on here, because I honestly see him as the type to still be a little hesitant in this situation, but he does get to have a bit more fun in this one lol.

Moon Light

Pairing: Jim (28 Days Later) x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Maybe moments of peace aren't as rare as you'd think, even during the apocalypse. Although, if you have anything to say about it, not all of Jim's moments with you will be quite so peaceful as the first.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of reader's recent loss of virginity, hair pulling, maybe some light manhandling, corruption kink if you really squint

A/N: This is a sequel to Morning Light, which you can read HERE!

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

The end of a long day always makes you eager to crawl into bed. That heavy feeling that sweeps over your limbs after many hours of arduous hard work - scavenging or gardening or doing any one of the other dozens of small chores necessary for survival - is like a siren’s call to the pile of blankets that wait to enshroud you and Jim every night.

Today has been long for a… slightly different reason than usual. After your slow start to the day, it's been hard to focus on anything else but Jim. And now, pleasant memories of your shared morning together still float through your head as you press back lightly against Jim’s chest; the steady rise and fall of his breath lulling you into a state of half-sleep.

Jim’s body suddenly twitches behind you; his arms contracting momentarily as he falls deeper into his own slumber. You stir, roused from the edges of some dream that had been almost ready to claim you.

“Sorry, love - go back to sleep,” Jim murmurs. 

He places a soft kiss on your temple, brushing his lips over a stray beam of moonlight that lands on the side of your face. You settle back, burrowing into the crevice of Jim’s arm that’s wrapped securely around you.

“M’not asleep,” you say, dreamily.

“Sounds like you are,” Jim teases, his breath still pleasantly warm on your neck.

He’s already nestled back into the pillows, nose pressing into the crook of your neck, lips lazily kissing you as he speaks.

“I’m not,” you insist, your voice a bit steadier.

And it’s true. You haven’t been able to sleep, even if you may have been teetering over the edge of it just a few seconds ago.

“Something wrong?” Jim asks. His own voice is sleepy but still clear; concern washing over his words as he pulls you just a bit closer.

“No. Just… thinking about earlier,” you reply.

Jim’s fingers against your waist tighten; almost too softly to notice. You might not have if not for the way your senses seem to be heightened; anticipating even the smallest movement.

“Earlier?” Jim’s voice now has the faintest hint of suggestion. “What’cha thinkin’ about earlier for?”

Your body wiggles against him; unable to hide your excitement at his slight teasing. As your back brushes just a bit lower, you don’t miss the feeling of something hard pressed up against you.

“Jim!” you squeal.

“What? You’re the one thinkin’ about it,” he hums, playfully holding your hips against his.

And he’s right; your mind is running wild. Racing with all kinds of thoughts and ideas about what he could do to you now. Now that you’d given yourself to him once. 

There’s still so much time for you to explore, and to have him help you discover this new and exciting part of life. But… why bother to wait to get started?

“Jim…” you sigh, grinding back into him.

“What is it, love?”

He’s gentle as always, letting you take the lead. You press back even a little harder, testing the limits of his resolve.

“Touch me, Jim. Please.”

Jim doesn’t waste even a second with asking you whether you’re sure, this time. He must know, with the way your back arches into him, how badly you want him again. His hand snakes down, not quickly and not slow. Trying to hide his eagerness, unsuccessfully. You hum as he pushes past your waistband. All you have on is a pair of lace panties, and not much else aside from an old t-shirt. No wonder you were both getting ideas.

“You really have been thinking of me,” Jim laughs.

His fingers curl into the wetness that’s already gathered between your legs, not quite pushing past the soft resistance - to the place where you want him most desperately. Your walls flutter at the absence.

“’Course I have,” you reply. “Liked it that much, did ya?”

Jim’s voice is still slurred, heavy with the remnants of sleep even though he’s fully awake now. Before you can think of a response, you’re cut off by your own sudden gasp, as Jim’s fingers finally press inside you.

“Too much?” he asks.

“No - keep going. I like it.”

“Mmm. Wanna do more than just think about me?” Jim teases. “Want me to stop you from gettin’ yourself all bothered?”

“Yes.”

The word comes out a bit more desperately than you’d meant it to. But there’s no stopping yourself as Jim curls his fingers inside you, coaxing out more breathy sighs as you whimper against him.

Jim drags his fingers out of you, only to bring them up to pull down at your panties. You help him maneuver them over your hips, lifting your legs once they slide past your knees so that you can snatch them away. Under the blankets, Jim hurries to slip out of his own boxers. He’s wearing even less clothing than you are. All that’s between you now is your thin t-shirt.

“Wanna take this off, too?” Jim asks, tugging at the hem of your shirt. 

You sit up for a second to pull the shirt off, then settle back down to rest against Jim’s chest. He’s already pressing between your thighs; rutting himself through the tight space of your legs. One of his hands comes up to messily grab at your breast; his fingertips pressing into the soft flesh.

“Want me to be gentle again, love?”

Your throat clenches at the dark tint in his words. You think back again to earlier, when Jim had promised to let himself do things to you that might break the rickety old bed that you shared. Now that you’ve gotten your first taste of intimacy, you’re thrillingly eager to learn about other, slightly less soft and gentle sides.

“Am I allowed to say no?” you breathe.

“Only if you want to,” Jim says, laughing a little.

His hips thrust just a bit more roughly against you as you squeeze your thighs together. The drag of his hard length between your legs is making your head spin already. Jim brings his lips up to rest against your ear.

“You’re not the one who needs my permission, you know,” he teases. “Already told you how badly I’d like to have my way with you.”

You bring a hand up to cup over his, still squeezing into your breast. Your fingers brush lightly for just a moment, before clamping down and pressing his touch into your skin with an intensity that's unlike anything he’s dared to give you.

“Then no,” you say, your voice sounding soft even in the silence of the dark room. “This time, I don’t want to be gentle.”

Jim tears his hand away, leaving the soft flesh of your breast to instead grab roughly at your hip. In one swift movement, he has you pressed into the mattress, your chest shoved against the sheets as the blanket over you is torn off. He leans down to whisper in your ear, his voice a bit huskier now.

“I was kind of hoping you’d say that,” he admits, before pressing a quick kiss to the side of your face. “Just promise to let me know if you need me to stop.”

You don’t have a chance to reply before Jim is pressing inside of you, taking it fairly slowly at first to give you a chance to adjust, but clawing against your hips the deeper he gets. You let out a soft whine, but press back to make him slide further into you, silently letting him know to continue.

The feeling is strange again at first, but now that you know what to expect, you adjust quickly. Jim stays still for a moment, then tilts his hips, hitting the same spot inside you that made you go crazy earlier. You see sparks, and grab at the bedsheets.

“You take me so well,” Jim praises, starting to move at a slow rhythm.

You arch your back, desperate for him to do more; go faster. He’s still being too gentle, and while part of you is grateful, what you really want is for him to let loose. He’s strong, though, and each thrust pushes you into the mattress. Your hips rise to meet him, and your face presses deeper into the pillow.

“You’ve got no clue how hard it is to hold back with you,” Jim growls above you.

You feel your walls clench down around him, and Jim lets out a hiss. His fingers are so tight against your hips that it feels like he might sink into your skin. You moan, desperate for more; desperate to make him pump into you and chase his own high.

“Don’t hold back, then,” you beg, wriggling as much as you can with him holding you.

“You need to pace yourself, love,” Jim grunts, the exertion of restraint creeping into his voice.

“I told you to not be gentle.”

Your voice is almost a whine at this point, and you feel Jim’s hips stutter against you. He regains his composure quickly, pistoning in with another sharp thrust. That’s more like it, and you hum in approval. 

“This still too gentle for you?” Jim teases, leaning down to press into your back. “God - fuck her once and she’s already begging for me to corrupt her.”

You let out a small squeak as Jim grabs a generous fist of your hair, pulling your neck back a few inches as he gives it a soft tug at the roots. 

“But alright, love. I can be a bit rough with ya.” Jim pulls your hair again, and you sigh, sinfully. “Too bad, though. You were such a nice girl.”

The smirk in Jim’s words makes you grin. This is exactly what you wanted from him, and you listen with growing thirst as the sound of his hips snapping into you fills the small room. His pace is getting faster now; the sound of his breath speeding up to match. His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling back sharply with each thrust. You let yourself give in to the pleasure of knowing he's close; enjoying the ride as Jim chases his high. All of a sudden, he stops - pulls out and flips you over so that you’re laid on your back, looking up at him.

“Touch yourself,” Jim gasps, lining back up without pause. “Wanna see your face when you come.”

It takes you a second, between the distracting heat that blossoms over your chest, and the feel of him pressing back into you; stretching your walls as he picks up just where he left off. But you do, once you’ve gathered your thoughts well enough, bring a hand down to play with yourself as Jim continues to thrust.

“Fuck - might not last long enough for you to do it,” Jim laughs, more than a little out of breath. 

He stops, pressing into you one more time before pulling back, still half inside of you as he looks down, watching your fingers knead over your clit.

“That’s it, love. Oh, fuck - keep going. Need you to come like this.”

He starts to move again, more hesitantly. Wary of finishing before you’ve had a chance to do the same. It’s hard not to make quick work of yourself with Jim nearly growling over you, and soon you feel yourself tip over the edge.

Jim lets out a string of curses as you feel yourself clench hard around him. And just as quickly, he’s lifting you up, one hand snaking under your waist while the other comes up to grab hold of the headboard. He pounds into you with your hips raised shakily off of the mattress, desperate and making you grab at the bed sheets just to avoid getting pushed by the force. 

Finally, Jim pulls out with a sharp breath, letting himself sink down to nestle his face in your neck as he screams weakly.

“Shhhhit… fuck,” Jim groans. 

He’s still holding you up, your body half hovering over the mattress, your shoulders pressed into the pillows. The sheets below you are ruined, to say the least - until you have a chance to bring them down to the river and wash them, in any case.

“Sorry,” Jim laughs, clearly embarrassed. “Got a little carried away there…”

You giggle and look up at him still bracing himself against the headboard. Carefully, you push Jim across to the less messy side of the bed, flipping him over. Once he’s on his back, you straddle him, feeling the dampness that still lingers against your core as it presses into his stomach.

“Why do I have a very bad feeling that I’ve awakened something in you?” Jim chuckles.

You don’t reply, until you’ve had a chance to lean down and give him a long, steamy kiss on the lips. Only then do you pull away.

“Because you have,” you confirm.

You and Jim both laugh as he flips you over again so that you’re stretched out below him, looking up at his playful eyes in the hazy moonlight. 

“Well, since the sheets are already half ruined,” Jim says. “What d’you say we finish ‘em off?”

You nod, already wrapping your legs around him.

“Told you I didn’t mind sleeping on the floor,” you laugh.

#jim 28 days later #jim 28 days later x reader #jim 28 days later smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #28 days later smut #LemmyFics

[redfivez]

sweater paws 🥹❤️

#cillian murphy #28 days later #jim 28 days later #cillian