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#Robert Oppenheimer x reader
pinguwrites · 8 months
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Kinktober 2023 — Masterlist
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A/N — With October coming up, it's time for filth, so here's a masterlist of Cillian Murphy goodness. The list will be updated as the days of the month pass. I hope you guys enjoy!
Read the warnings before continuing. I do not condone, defend, support, romanticize, or encourage the illegal actions of any of the characters throughout the story, these stories are purely written for entertainment purposes. 18+ only.
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WEEK ONE
Day 1. William Killick + dub-con
Day 2. Cillian Murphy + spanking, authority kink
Day 3. Raymond Leon + car sex
Day 4. Neil Lewis + grinding, semi-public
Day 5. Thomas Shelby + overstimulation, bondage
Day 6. Jonathan Crane + impact play
Day 7. Robert Oppenheimer + praise kink, dd/lg
WEEK TWO
Day 8. Thomas Shelby + omegaverse, omega!tommy
Day 9. Robert Fischer + facefucking, office sex
Day 10. William Killick + uniform kink, dirty talk
Day 11. Tom Buckley + body worship, overstimulation
Day 12. Neil Lewis + cockwarming
Day 13. Cillian Murphy + somnophilia, dd/lg
Day 14. Jackson Rippner + CNC, roleplay
WEEK THREE
Day 15. Jonathan Crane + sex pollen
Day 16. William Killick + face riding
Day 17. Jonathan Breech + making a video
Day 18. Raymond Leon + forced proximity, outercourse
Day 19. Thomas Shelby + fingering, hold the moan
Day 20. Darren/Pig + vanilla, riding
Day 21. Robert Fischer + mirror sex, toys
WEEK FOUR
Day 22. Jackson Rippner + choking, anal sex
Day 23. Tom Buckley + vanilla, creampie
Day 24. Jonathan Crane + humiliation, pegging
Day 25. Robert Fischer + wet dream, sleepy sex
Day 26. Neil Lewis + shower sex
Day 27. Raymond Leon + anal sex, brat taming
Day 28. Jonathan Breech + fluffy, semi-public
WEEK FIVE
Day 29. Cillian Murphy + overstimulation, f!receiving oral sex
Day 30. Darren/Pig + mutual masturbation
Day 31. Jackson Rippner + ghostface!reader
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your-nanas-house · 4 months
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Dr. Oppenheimer... for them
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◇ Pairing: Cillian M.!J Robert Oppenheimer x student fem!Reader
◇ Warnings: suggestive, professor x student, confused mind, attraction and kiss, age gap (both off age)
◇ Summary: Y/n's professor ask her to stay after class.
◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Inspired on @pinguwrites character ai Oppie, love your characters on chai!
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“Y/n... you’ve been doing a great job in your class so far.” Oppenheimer leaned on his desk, his light blue eyes surveying his student as her name, which rolled too easily out from his tongue, left him a sweet but bitter taste.
The age difference was obvious, and he was worried that others would notice the way he looked at her— not that it stopped him of course.
Y/n was was a very beautiful young woman and had a brilliant mind... something that affascinate and turned on Robert.
"Thank you, sir" she quickly replied with a gentle smile, his praises warming up her chest as her grip on her bag got tighter.
“You know, some of my colleagues have been saying you’re the top student in the class” the older man paused after his statement, his eyes scanning her again. Her body was so arousing, it was pretty innocent and professional but she made it look sinful by the way she wore it— and he had to fight, yet again, the urge not to stare with lust and disrespect.
"I'm not even near at it," the younger woman replied with a soft chuckle, her cheeks flushing of a dull red while her heart beat in her chest violently.
“Don’t be so modest.” her professor put on a kind smile as he speaked his mind, a serious glimpse in his beautiful eyes which were fixed on her lips, repressing a deep and needy urge of wanting to kiss her.
“You’re very smart, not only that, you’re also very talented— you’ll go far.” He assured her as soon as he snapped out of the trance.
Oppenheimer was close to crossing the line. How much more could he go on about how attractive she was and still keep his job and reputation? He didn't really want to find out.
Y/n stood in front of him, her eyes bright and a big smile on her face... one that made Robert fell back into thoughts.
Was she thinking the same? He asked himself, his hand rubbing his chin slowly as his eyes not budged from her.
As the student kept observing him, a tender silence spread across the room between them like a tangible thing. Oppenheimer couldn’t take his eyes away from Y/n’s lips, the darkish lipstick so vibrant on her.
It was tempting— and dangerous.
“Come here” he finally urged her quietly, watching her reply with a nod before moving closer to where he was standing.
“Sit.” he gestured towards a chair beside him, ignoring his racing heart as he repressed still the want... or the urger he had to just take a hold of the back of her neck to allow him to pull her face closer and connect their lips in a kiss that he was longing badly.
“I want you to do something for me,” Robert said, his voice raspy and with a hint of hidden lust.
His light blue eyes observed her, his heart beating faster against his chest “Close your eyes.” He murmured as a request, his Adam's apple moving as he gulped.
The young woman obeyed without asking him any questions, with maximum respect in his decisions and opinions... so her eyes fluttered shut.
“Now, I want you to trust me.” He stated, his hand moving closers to her so that his slender fingers were brushing her soft skin.
After a little nod the older man hesitated for a moment before leaning slowly in, his nose brushing against hers before he connected their lips in a tender kiss. His big hands stroking the skin of her neck, moving her hair out of the way.
The kiss wasn't quick but not even long, he parted slightly their lips after little time. Allowing his warm lips now to hovered over Y/n's for a moment more.
That particular action making her want to lean forward and kiss him senseless again. As her heart beat became faster and her breathing went heavy.
But then he stepped back... and she could feel the strange feeling of lack before he talker again “Open your eyes.”
Her student followed his instructions, gulping slowly as her gaze moved carefully up to meet his eyes... staring deeply into them.
Oppenheimer stared at her, waiting to see if she had any reaction to the kiss. The pale red lipstick on her lips was still vivid and seductive but a bit smudged. “Tell me something, Y/n." He asked in a weak voice.
She nodded slightly before answering, a deep breath created a kind of suspense "...Something".
A soft huff escaped her professor's mouth, his eyes filled with a soft glimpse of amusement “You’re being sassy now?” Oppenheimer said jokingly, his hand resting on her hip so that he could squeeze it softly.
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lacontroller1991 · 7 months
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My Lips on Yours (J. Robert Oppenheimer x F!Reader)
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Main Master List || Misc Master List
requested by @forgottenpeakywriter :can you write something where reader and oppie have been dating for a while and they share their first kiss
DISCLAIMER: This is clearly based off of Cillian Murphy's Oppenheimer. If this bothers you just scroll on.
Warnings: Language, kissing, drinking, smoking, slight mention of sex
Word Count: 1.3
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You can remember the day like it was yesterday. Robert had shown up to your house, bouquet of flowers in his hands and a formal invitation asking you out. You, of course, had instantly said no. Being close family friends with Lawrence gives you a certain insight on some individuals, including Robert Oppenheimer. Lawrence had explicitly told you ‘stay away from him,’ but it’s hard to avoid Oppenheimer when he’s everywhere you go. 
Even though you told him no the first time he asked you out, it sure didn’t stop him. He showed up to your doorstep again, a new bouquet of flowers and had asked the same question ‘would you like to have dinner with me’, to which you again said no. 
It took almost two weeks of him constantly asking you day by day for you to say yes, despite your friends all warning you. 
By the time you started dating you had to admit to yourself, it was honestly not that bad. In fact, you and him went on another, and another, and another until almost three months have passed. 
Despite having dated for a few months now there's still something that you and him haven’t done. You haven’t kissed each other. Don’t be mistaken, you and him have had sex. Lots of it. But you and Robert have not kissed each other on the lips and it’s honestly irritating.
Seeming to pick up on your annoyance, your colleague looks up at you from across the table in the library. “Something the matter?”
You turn your attention to your classmate and let out a huff. “Just annoyed.”
“About?”
You close your book and set it down onto the table. “It’s been over three months and we still haven’t kissed. It’s just been bothering me. Why hasn’t he kissed me? Did I do something wrong? Am I unappealing? Is he just using me? What am I doing wrong?” You place your head in your hands in frustration as your friend flicks their eyes above you to see a pair staring back before the person scurries away. 
“You’re doing nothing wrong. Maybe he’s just not ready for that kind of commitment.” Your friend tries to soothe you but it’s a hard feat.
“That wouldn’t make sense though. We’ve done things. He kisses me everywhere except my face. It just makes me feel like he’s using me for my body and that he doesn’t really care for me.” Your friend nods in response, rubbing a soothing hand on your back.
“I’m sure he does. He’s just weird like that. You knew that when you started dating him.” The comment makes you laugh slightly as you wipe away a stray tear before opening your book back up.
“Lawrence did try to warn me.”
“That he did. Let’s get back to studying.”
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“Dr. Oppenheimer?” The sound of his name being called stirs Oppenheimer’s concentration from his desk of papers and causes him to look up to see Alvarez standing in the doorway, awkwardly shifting his weight.
“What is it Alvarez?”
“Can I tell you something that might be awkward?” Robert motions to the seat in front of his desk and takes a puff from his pipe, waiting for Alvarez to continue. “So I know you’re seeing (Y/N) but I feel like you should know that (Y/N) is getting frustrated that you guys haven’t… kissed.” Silence.
“Where did you hear this?” 
“I overheard her telling this to her friend.” Robert pushes away from his desk and places the papers in his briefcase, exhaling a plume of smoke before snuffing out his pipe.
“Thank you, Alvarez, for letting me know. You can see yourself out.” Alvarez quickly nods and rushes away, cheeks flushed from the embarrassment of the topic at hand. The minute Alvarez gets out of sight Robert leans back into his chair, staring off to the distance. If you’re bothered by him not kissing you, he wonders what else you’re bothered with.
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Sharp knocks on the door disrupt you from your studying. Getting up from your seat you stride towards the door, swinging it open to reveal Robert on the other side, flowers in his hands. “Good evening darling.”
“Robert? I wasn’t aware that you’re coming. Do we have a date tonight?” He brushes past you and sets the flowers on your doorway stand before hanging up his coat and hat while you watch on in confusion.
“Do I need to have an appointment to see you?”
“Well, no, but I also wasn’t expecting you. If I’d known that you were coming I would’ve cooked something.” He waves his hand and steps further into your house towards the kitchen, instantly fixing himself and you a martini. 
“Nonsense. I can make us something.” Now you’re really confused. You have never heard of Robert cooking. In fact, you’re not even sure if he knows how to, given the fact that he’s so thin. You’ve always just assumed that his diet is cigarettes, martinis, coffees and the occasional cookie that he would always steal from your lunch box or even Lawrence’s. 
“Ok, Robert. What are you doing here?” He turns around and hands you the martini, a smile on his face as he takes your arm and guides you to the couch. 
“I heard something and I want to run it by you.” His admission has your heart racing. What on earth could it be that he just had to show up to your house? Nodding your head for him to continue, his blue eyes pierce yours. “I heard that you expressed some discourse about the fact that we haven’t properly kissed.”
The comment made you spit out your drink. “What?”
“Alvarez overheard you telling your friend that you’re upset that we haven’t kissed properly, so I’m here to change that.” Why this arrogant bastard. 
“You’re a jerk Robert,” you move to stand up but he grabs your wrist and pulls you back down, setting your drinks of the coffee table before taking your face in his hands. 
“No, no. Hear me out.” You want to pull away but you also want to hear him out. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you, I just didn’t know when a good time would be or if you even wanted to.”
“Let me counter that point. Why wouldn’t I? We’ve been seeing each other for months now and we still haven’t done something so mundane.” He shakes his head, one thumb running over your cheek while the other hand pets your hair.
“I don’t want it to be mundane. I want it to be magical. With the… parameters… of our relationship I never knew when the good time was to kiss you, but now I know.”
“You could’ve always asked, you know?” He chuckles in response, his eyes staring into yours as your bodies move ever so closer together. 
“Well (Y/N). May I kiss you?”
“No.” Your answer is a sharp slap to Robert’s face and he begins to pull away but your hands reach out to his face. “Of course you can, you silly idiot.” He smiles like an idiot before closing the gap between the two of you, your lips molding together like they were meant for each other. Your hands grab onto his blazer and hold him close as his tongue sweeps along your bottom lip asking for access. Opening your mouth, you let out a little whimper as he explores you. There’s now a tangible layer of intimacy between you and Robert now and it’s dizzying. You feel lightheaded, like you’re drunk. Maybe you’re drunk on him, but whatever it is, it is way better than you imagined.
The two of you remain in each other’s embrace for a minute before he pulls away, his forehead resting against yours as the two of you try to catch your breaths. “How was that?”
“That was… something else.” He chuckles, his thumb tracing your swollen parted lips. “Do it again.”
“Now that I know, I don’t intend to stop.”
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ourladyofoldgotham · 7 months
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nightfall
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j. robert oppenheimer x female reader
implied adultery, set during manhattan project
prompt by @forgottenpeakywriter
1.1k words
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summary
You meet the illustrious Dr. Oppenheimer at the Los Alamos Christmas party. He asks you for a dance.
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Los Alamos isn’t a socialite’s paradise, but looking around Fuller Lodge decorated for the annual personnel Christmas party, they almost could have fooled you.
A band was playing - turns out Los Alamos had a lot more musicians than you had thought - and the soft bustle of the room’s chatter rises up to the tinsel garland draped over the ceiling’s wooden beams. The electricity was always down in the evenings, and the water from the tanker trucks was in short supply, but for tonight, candles and liquor more than made up for it. 
You see him from across the room, standing at the counter. Doctor Oppenheimer is not a particularly loud man, nor a particularly imposing one. Still, there’s an air about him that seems to draw people in. He looks up and meets your gaze from across the room, and his blue eyes in the low light strike you like a bullet. You’ve heard about a million stories about him in the time that you’ve been here - you’ve heard he’s a genius of the highest degree, of course, but that’s practically a given. According to the rumors that flew through the town, he was also a Communist, a millionaire, a homewrecker, and a man that had left a trail of cultish devotion behind him in every university doing any real work in theoretical physics everywhere from Cambridge to California. You hadn’t believed a word of him until you’d met him in person. He seemed to be around every corner, in every lab, his brilliance the undercurrent at every turn. There was a sort of hypnotism that surrounded him, something that you had never seen before. You, like all the rest, were only human. Nobody could help falling under its spell. In the crowd, you lose sight of him.
It’s not until the night starts to draw to a close that you encounter him again. He startles you, tapping you on the shoulder. The light is low, scattering dim light across the wooden floor. The band plays some soft, pretty jazz tune you’re sure you’ve heard before. 
“Are you new to the Hill? I don’t think I recognize you.”
He extends his hand to you, and you shake it. 
“J. Robert Oppenheimer. I’m not sure we’ve had a chance to meet.”
You introduce yourself and his eyes glimmer with a slight touch of recollection. 
“I recognize that last name. Were you at Berkley? Caltech?”
You laugh and shake your head. 
“No, you must be thinking of my husband. He was one of Professor Lawrence’s graduate students there.”
“Of course. I don’t think I could have forgotten a face like that.”
He smiles at you over the rim of his glass. 
“Let me make you a drink.” 
You lean against the edge of the counter as you watch him make a martini, rimmed in lime and honey with extra gin. 
“So where did you go to school? I know your husband works in the E-5 group, but I could swear I’ve seen you in the labs.”
“Harvard - for chemistry, summa cum laude. I wasn’t able to complete my master’s, though - we moved out here just a couple months before I would have finished. I worked under Hornig in plutonium chemistry as a lab assistant for a while, but now I’m just a courier in the library group.”
“Ah, one of Lilli’s plutonium girls. It’s important work you do, you know.”
“What, to drive back and forth from a mailbox all day with a suitcase of old books locked to my wrist like a pack mule?”
He laughs in a way that’s almost disarming, the charismatic Oppie of legend. 
“A pack mule with one of the highest military security clearance levels in the country. It has to count for something.”
He hands you your drink. It’s strong, almost dizzying in the high altitude of top of the cocktails you’d already had. He’s quiet for a moment, his eyes studying you with an emotion you can’t quite decipher.
“Do you recognize this song?”
You shake your head.
“I’m certain I’ve heard it before, but I can’t quite place my finger on it.”
“Ah, of course. It’s quite popular, but it’s not as in vogue as it used to be. It’s called Nightfall - by Benny Carter. I saw him play live once, under Henderson at the Roseland in New York. Quite brilliant men, actually - I believe Henderson was a graduate student at Columbia in chemistry briefly.”
He pauses again, considering something. His eyes flit across the diamond ring on your finger as it wraps around the stem of your glass.
“Has your husband gone home yet? I don’t see him anywhere.”
“Oh, yes, doctor. Hours ago. He doesn’t dance - and he figured I could make it back home on my own.”
“I see. Do you? Dance, I mean.”
“When I can - which hasn’t been often lately. And where is Mrs. Oppenheimer tonight?”
“She’s… She’s visiting her family in Pennsylvania. Los Alamos has never suited her.”
You watch him rub the silver wedding band on his finger, a sudden flash of tension skimming across his face. 
“And what about you? Do you dance, Dr. Oppenheimer?”
The question snaps him out of his reverie, and he smiles softly. 
“Please, call me Robert. And as a matter of fact, I do. May I have the pleasure of this one?”
He extends his hand to you, and you take it. 
“You may.”
He leads you out to the dance floor. He’s old-fashioned, almost gentlemanly - his hand rests delicately on your waist, in classic ballroom fashion. The two of you are practically the only people in the room, now - he leads you in a slow foxtrot around the room. There’s something soft in his eyes when he looks into yours that makes you feel like the only woman in the world.
When the last note of the song rings out, the two of you are standing in the center of the floor. Your head rests on his shoulder, your clasped hands pulled in close. His hand is warm on your waist through the thin fabric of your dress. 
It’s hardly the picture of propriety. The scandal of an affair between the two of you would be enormous. Somehow, you can’t bring yourself to care. Not now - not with him, dancing like this in the cool desert night. The rising moon drips silver light across the floor. With a flick of his hand, Robert signals to the band for just one more song.
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couldn't resist the chance to flex my very minor jazz knowledge
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forgottenpeakywriter · 6 months
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Masterlist
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queenshelby · 10 months
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Chemical Reactions (P. 1)
Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader
Warning: Smut in later parts, Age-Gap, Infidelity 
Words: 1,867
Note: The fic is spoiler free and fantasy. 
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It was just before Christmas when you took up a scholarship at Berkley and, since you were young woman at the tender age of twenty-two, you still could not believe your luck.
You got in to one of the most sought-after courses in the US when it came to quantum physics, which was a field so new and progressive that, to many, its attributes appeared to be rather absurd whereas, to you, it was a way of understanding the world.
The class you had applied for was that of J Robert Oppenheimer who was a well-known physicist and whilst you had only ever read about his works in the academic papers at Harvard, you were eager to finally meet the man whose work impressed you so much.
Being female in the field of physics, however, came with a price. Your skills had often been disregarded because of your gender and being excluded from experiments was not unusual either. As such, you were cautious and kept your obvious excitement at bay as, no doubt, criticism was a concept that your fellow students knew just too well and, in your mind, it was always easy for others to criticise those who they did not yet know, i.e., the new and possibly only female student in their class.
***
On your first day, when you arrived to the impressive building, you realised that you were over twenty minutes early and this, too, was not surprising.
You were punctual most of the time and when you weaved your way through the building, you were surprised by how little time it took for you to find the lecture room, which, thankfully, was unlocked and had a few other students already inside.
You selected a seat one row from the front, in a spot that, to most professors, said "I am eager to learn” which you hoped was beneficial seeing that, at least for now, you were the only woman in the room.
“Would you be accepted by your peers?” you pondered, but your thoughts were quickly interrupted when, who you assumed to be your professor, entered the room.
He was a frail but attractive looking man, wearing a grey suit that was matched by a white shirt and a dark coloured tie. He was smoking cigarette and put his dark brown leather satchel on the table in front of him, rifling haphazardly through the mess of papers inside.
Against your will, you felt a displeased look settle onto your face. Is the professor's class going to be as disorganised as his abyss of a bag, you wondered? Were those other students' assignments in there, begging to be lost?
You smirked for a minute at the intrusion of your very own thoughts about Dr Oppenheimer before you instinctively pulled your cheek in between your teeth which just when more students began to fly in to the room.
“Oh look, someone must have gotten lost” one of them was quick to say with a grin as he had spotted you and your neatly laid out stationary.
“The biology classes are conducted down the hall, in the third room to the left” was what another one said, causing you to rise from your seat in order to speak up against this nonsense just before the professor himself did it for you.
“And what makes you presume that she is in the wrong room, Mr Handley?” Dr Oppenheimer asked almost sternly and his reaction most certainly surprised you as, until now, you did not think that he had even noticed you.
“She is a woman, sir” the man stammered somewhat reluctantly, causing the professor to furrow his eyebrows.
“And you presume that this prestigious establishment seeks to exclude women from studying in the field of physics?” Dr Oppenheimer then asked, causing you to grin silently. “That seems rather absurd, wouldn’t you agree?” he then went on to add, causing the young man to nod.
“Of course... I mean, of course not” the student stammered just before Dr Oppenheimer began to call roll which is something you did not even notice as you were too transfixed on his demure and the way he presented himself until, eventually, your hand shot up at the sound of your full name.
“Present” you said, feeling a blush coming to your cheeks as the class and Dr Oppenheimer looked at you, the latter's blue eyes lingering on you a bit longer than the others.
You forced yourself to hold his gaze, not sure of the intention behind it and then, suddenly, he spoke:
"Miss Y/LN, now tell us, what have they been up to at Harvard these days? This is where you have transferred from, correct?” the professor then asked just as his look towards you intensified even more. His deep blue eyes were seeing right through you and yet you managed to answer him confidently.
“Not much in so far as the physics department is concerned, Dr Oppenheimer. In the last year we experimented with nuclear fission, but I assume that, considering the current political climate, so has everyone else. We then looked at metaphysics, stars, the universe…” you explained before sharing some of your findings and conclusions which impressed not only Dr Oppenheimer but also some of the other students.
When listening to you talk, it became obvious to him that you were rather intelligent even at such a young age and your interest in science was one of great significance.
“None of this is new” one of the students then said nonetheless after you finished your explanations and outlined your conclusions, to which you responded rather sharply yourself.
“I didn’t claim that it was. I simply answered Dr Oppenheimer’s question” you pointed out and the professor was quick to take your side again.
“And I appreciate your thorough explanation Miss Y/LN. It helped me understand where you are at when it comes to the presumed knowledge for my class” Dr Oppenheimer went on to say and you knew that, whatever the true reasons were behind his questions, his intent was not as innocent as he made it out to be. He wanted to know whether the physics department in Harvard knew more than the physics department at Berkley which, luckily for him, was not the case.  
The entire profession was well aware of the ‘program’ about to implemented by the US government and several physicists and educational departments began to protect their research with more earnest for a chance to cash in on the war.
But, Dr Oppenheimer did not appear to be one of those reserved physicists who were just in it for themselves. To the contrary, he really cared about making a difference and his research to date was well known within in the industry. He did not mind sharing his findings even if they were inconclusive and you have heard many stories about how he enjoyed working in the faculty as part of a group rather than on his own.
He was a leader but also a team player and, as such, when he wrapped up his questions for the day and announced the research project for the coming days, every student around him broke out into appreciative chatter as you remained in your seat, slightly dumbfounded, as the students were broken up into four groups.
---
“You worked in experimental before, have you not?” Dr Oppenheimer asked as, after a little while, he approached you and the group to which he had assigned you.
“I am pleased to know that you have read my file Dr Oppenheimer” you smiled after giving him a nod, which too is when you realised just how handsome he truly was. He must have been in his late thirties and seeing a wedding ring on this man’s finger came as a disappointment to you.
“I have read all of my students’ files” Dr Oppenheimer assured you just as you stood awkwardly at your table for a moment, debating whether or not to take the courage to ask him the millions of questions you had for him already until, suddenly, he prompted you to do exactly that.
"Did you have a question for me?" Dr Oppenheimer asked innocently as if he could have read your mind.
“Uhm…” you paused while cursing yourself already for having started your sentence with that godforsaken 'uhm' which, in your opinion, made you sound like an idiot.
"Yes, actually. I was wondering if, with this formula, you have considered the possibility…” you began to question, seeing how he had arrived at the calculations already presented to you and, just as you spoke with such great determination, you trailed off a bit as his gaze intensified.
“Quite frankly, you lost me there, at the end of your calculations but that is not to say that you are wrong” Dr Oppenheimer said almost politely as you looked at him somewhat flustered, causing your fellow students to chuckle and whisper behind your back.
“I must have lost my own train of thought just then. I am sorry sir” you said with blushing red cheeks as all of your confidence flew out of the window and you suddenly became aware of the way he was standing, with his hands against his hips, and the way he looked all together.
“Don’t be sorry Miss Y/LN. In fact, I am interested in exploring that idea of yours further, perhaps even after today’s lessons if you have time” Dr Oppenheimer then said as he adjusted the way he stood and smiled.
“That would be my pleasure, sir” you responded as you watched him spread his arms out on the table in front of you, far past shoulder width. He was leaning on his hands, causing the veins on his forearms to bulge slightly, which were exposed by the rolled-up sleeves of his white button-down shirt. He had his head tilted down a bit to look at you with those deep blue eyes until, eventually, he snapped out of his very own and somewhat intrusive thoughts which were thoughts you knew had nothing to do with quantum mechanics whatsoever.  
Dr Oppenheimer then licked his lips lightly before speaking again, distracting you from the first few syllables of his sentence.
"Good, then please come and see when you finish for the day, Miss Y/LN. I will be right here, trying to figure out what you were on about” Dr Oppenheimer then said just as the bell began to ring and the students started to pack up their bags, seeing that most of them had experimental workshops to attend to in the afternoon which, of course, included you. You too had a workshop, which was one you did not look forward to.
“Yes doctor. I will see you this afternoon” you told him with a reluctant smile as you pulled your lab coat closer to your chest and forced your face to remain neutral, even as you felt the heat burning up your neck. You then gave him a curt "thank you" before lifting your chin and turning to leave.
To be continued…
Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!
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aphroditeslover11 · 7 months
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Today I discovered a mid-century photographer called Philippe Halsman who photographed the famous people of his era, from Richard Nixon to Marilyn Monroe. At the end of his sessions he would ask the person to jump into the air for a picture, believing that this would cause them to drop their pretenses and public persona, leaving him with a picture of the real person as they made their leap. He called this ‘jumpology’.
This is the photo he took of Robert Oppenheimer in 1958, possibly the most free and unreserved image of him that I’ve ever seen.
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torimurphy · 13 days
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guys look
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cillianbabe · 6 months
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Cillian Murphy on the set of “Small things like these” in Ireland . 🥹💞
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floralcyanide · 4 months
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― C I L L I A N M U R P H Y ❁
♡ M A S T E R L I S T ―
ғɪᴄs ʟᴀʙᴇʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ sʏᴍʙᴏʟs ʜᴀᴠᴇ sᴜᴄʜ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇᴍ.
smut ✺, fluff ✿, angst ☁, gore ☆, nsfw☼
↬ 𝖼𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗇!𝗈𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗋
- 𝗂'𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 ☁
- 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖼 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾 ☁
- 𝗂 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾 ✺☼
↬ 𝖼𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗇 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗉𝗁𝗒
- 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 ✺☼
- 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 ☁
- 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌, 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌, 𝖺𝗉𝗈𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗒𝗉𝗌𝖾 ✺☼
- 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖻 𝖨 ✺☼
- 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖻 𝖨𝖨 ☁
- 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖨 ☼
- 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝗇𝖾: 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 ✺☼
- 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇: 𝗌𝖾𝗑 𝗍𝗈𝗒𝗌 ✺☼
↬ 𝗍𝗈𝗆𝗆𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗅𝖻𝗒
- 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇: 𝗀𝗎𝗇 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄 ✺☼
↬ 𝗃𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖾
- 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋 ✺☼
- 𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗐 𝖺𝗅𝗉𝗁𝖺𝖻𝖾𝗍 ✺☼
- 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖻 𝖨 ☼
- 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗎𝖻𝗅𝖾 ✺☼
- 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖨 ✺☼
- 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖨𝖨 ✺☼
- 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗐𝗈: 𝗇𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒 ✺☼
- 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗌𝗂𝗑: 𝖽𝖾𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 ✺☼
↬ 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘭 𝘭𝘦𝘸𝘪𝘴
- 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖻 𝖨 ☼
- 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾 ✺☼
- 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖨 ✿
↬ 𝗃𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗇𝖾𝗋
- 𝟥𝟢,𝟢𝟢𝟢 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗍 ✺☼
- 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖨 ✺☼
↬ 𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘢
- 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 ☼
- 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾 ☁
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your-nanas-house · 4 months
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Drabble: Cherry
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◇ Pairing: J. Robert Oppenheimer X secretary!Reader
◇ Warnings: dirty thinking, Y/n is a bit naughty, age gap (both off age), short smut, fluff.
◇ Summary: Oppie gets teased by his secretary who keeps trying to get his attention.
◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Also sorry if it took me so long, didn't watch Oppenheimer yet..sadly so I hope he's not too OOC. Requested by @forgottenpeakywriter. Tried my best.
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“Looking quite handsome today, sir” Y/n Y/l/n praised the older man with a soft smile on her face. He really looked pretty nice in her opinion… just like every other day.
“Oh… thank you, Y/n” Robert murmured as he looked away from the papers in front of him, deciding to take a small break just to focus on his secretary and the reason she was there.
“No need, sir… I brought you something to drink and eat” she informed him with her usual soft tone, leaning slowly down so that he could have a better view of her cleavage… which was deeper than usual.
Robert’s light eyes lowered slightly automatically, gazing at her chest with a soft blush on his face. He could already feel his heartbeat accelerating, his hands tickling a bit for the need and want to grab her someway.
It wasn’t the first time she played with his mind like that, trying anything to get his attention, starting from tight and short clothes which were still professional… to actions, like casually bending down when he could see, sticking her ass out or showing him her young breasts, teasingly covered by the fabric of her well chosen clothes. 
It was driving him crazy.
Robert didn’t exactly know how to react to her shameless attempts and actions to seek his full attention... attempts which sadly worked pretty well even though he was married. That’s what he always reminded him, trying not to fall into temptation again… imagine her younger body against his, her hips grinding and bouncing as her tight, probably virgin, pussy squeezed his needy cock.
“It’s pretty sweet” she stated, making his focus return back to her eyes “What?” the older man murmured, his light eyes piercing in hers as he noticed the soft rubbing of her thighs.
“The cupcake.. is pretty sweet. I think they called it popping cherry.. since it’s so good and it’s a cherry cupcake, sir” she whispered, biting her bottom lip before leaning carefully away to walk towards the door.
Robert’s eyes following the soft sway of her hips as his hand reached for the sweet “Enjoy, sir” Y/n whispered nearly sensually before leaving him alone in his office… again.
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Taglist:
@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989
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lovelybucky1 · 7 months
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The Doctor is In
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Kinktober Day 11- Threesome
warnings: AFAB!Reader, student/teacher relationship, dom/sub dynamics, oral sex (f and m receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, snowballing, dirty talk, smoking, alcohol consumption, robert x lawrence, 18+ minors DNI
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When Lawrence confided in Robert about his recent dry spell, he was never expecting this to come from that conversation. Robert had told him he has a mistress, one Robert is certain his wife knows about but has yet to confront him about. She's young, pretty, bright, and has an interest in physics- or at least is attracted enough to Robert to pretend to care about his ramblings.
Lawrence was skeptical. He doesn't know many men who are eager to share their woman, but Robert has never been like most men. Maybe it's a kink for him to have another man fuck his mistress. Robert was open about what the two of you get up to, and it's safe to say that neither of you are very reserved in the bedroom.
After thinking about the offer for a day or two, Lawrence agreed. Robert already had a time and place in mind. Seven o'clock on Friday at his house for dinner. His wife would be away with the kids until Sunday, giving them the perfect opportunity to explore.
Friday came quickly and Lawrence found himself standing on Robert's door step with a bottle of wine in hand. Robert came to the door and greeted Lawrence with a smile, then lead him into the kitchen. Once there, he saw your behind bent over in front of the oven.
You take the chicken out of the oven and place it on top of the stove. Lawrence thought it was a bit odd to have a mistress cook in the wife's kitchen, but he supposed you and Robert were playing house for the weekend.
You turn around and saw both men standing at the kitchen table. Your face lit up when you saw Lawrence, but his stomach dropped when he saw you.
"Dr. Lawrence!" you say excitedly, coming over to both men. Lawrence stares down at you with his mouth slightly agape.
"You two know each other?" Robert asks.
"Oh, yes, he's one of my professors," you grin. "When you said you had a friend from work joining us, I was afraid it was gonna be one of those weird old guys."
Lawrence snaps out of his shock and looks over at Robert. "I didn't know your..." he feels it's inappropriate to call you a mistress to your face, "was a student."
"I didn't think it mattered," Robert counters.
"Please come sit, I made chicken," you say, drawing both men's attention.
Robert sits down at the head of the table with Lawrence to his right, leaving the seat to his left for you. The table is already set neatly and you bring over the tray with the chicken on it. The meat is steaming and the herbs are fragrant. There's mashed potatoes, a salad, and enough wine to leave the three of you drunk.
You make polite conversation over dinner, and Lawrence can't help but find it a bit humorous that you're making a date out of an arranged hookup. He is enjoying himself, though, so he can't complain too much.
The conversation revolves around work, and each time you speak, Lawrence is reminded that you're his student. His kind, polite, curious student who always brings him an apple and sits in the first row. You are a brilliant student and your work is always impressive. He never thought you would be the type to get mixed up in an extramarital affair with Dr. Oppenheimer, but Lawrence supposes he doesn't really know the true you.
Your food is delicious, the best Lawrence has had in a while. He thinks to himself that you would make a good wife, then chastises himself for thinking that way about a student.
"What's the matter, Lawrence?" Robert asks, breaking Lawrence's train of thought.
Lawrence looks between the two of you. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little nervous," he says. There's a blush rising to his cheeks and he feels shy under your attention.
"Don't be nervous, Doctor. We'll take good care of you," you smile reassuringly.
You reach over and grab his hand. Your fingers are delicate and your hand is small compared to his. His heart races and he suddenly has the urge for more wine.
"I suppose since we're on the topic, we should discuss how the rest of the night is going to go," Robert says.
"That's a good idea," Lawrence agrees.
"To get the awkward question out of the way," Robert starts, as if this won't all be awkward. "Do you fuck men?"
Luckily Lawrence's mouth was clear of food because it would have been lodged in his airway after hearing the question. Lawrence clears his throat and looks between you and Robert.
"I... haven't."
"Are you interested?"
"In you?" Robert nods. "I don't know... I haven't really thought of it."
"We'll start off slow, then."
Lawrence's head is spinning. His coworker just asked him if he wanted to have sex and now he has to continue on living his life as if that's normal. As if he's not intrigued.
"What kinds of things do you like, Doctor?" you ask.
"Um..." Lawrence says as his mind races to find an answer.
"Any particular turn-ons you have?" Robert asks.
When he still doesn't answer, you speak up. "Well, I can tell you what I like and you can tell me what you think about them."
"Yeah," Lawrence nods. "That sounds good."
You scoot closer to him and rest your chin on your hand, somehow making yourself look even cuter.
"I like older men who have experience. They know what they like and aren't afraid to take it. I like a strong hand to guide and to please me. And I want to be worshipped." Lawrence listens intently with wide eyes. "How do you feel about that?"
"I, um," he clears his throat, "I like it. All of that. Sounds good to me."
You smile widely and look over at Robert. "How about Dr. Lawrence and I take turns on you, dear?" he says. You agree excitedly.
"You don't have to call me that," Lawrence says, feeling unusually timid.
"Call you what?" you ask.
"Doctor."
You stand up from your chair and push Lawrence's plate back so you can perch yourself on the table in front of him. Your legs are crossed but your skirt still shows a fair amount of thigh. It's nothing Lawrence hasn't seen before, but now he's allowed to look. Your feet hang between his parted legs and he traces the seam of your stockings with his eyes.
"But I like calling you that," you say, batting your eyelashes. "But I could call you professor if you'd prefer."
Lawrence's eyes flick over to Roberts, searching for signs of discomfort or objection, but only found a smirk.
"This is... inappropriate," he says. "You're my student."
There is a slight pout to your bottom lip. "Doesn't that make it better? I've seen the way you look at me in class, Doctor. I bet you've thought about what would happen if I came to your office and asked for extra credit."
Lawrence shouldn't be surprised. Robert wouldn't spend time with a girl if she wasn't a firecracker. You just look so sweet and innocent, it's difficult to fathom these dirty words are coming out of your mouth.
You uncross your legs and part your thighs, giving him a peak of your delicate panties. "No one has to know, Doctor."
You're a seductress disguised as an angel. You're the snake tempting him to take a bite of the apple and let the delicious juice drip down his chin.
Lawrence slides his chair back to make space in front of the table, then drops to his knees in front of you. He's staring directly at your clothed cunt and he can practically smell your desire from there.
"What are you doing, Lawrence?" Robert asks.
Lawrence looks over at him and expects him to be angry, but he is smirking. "You're not going to fuck my woman on the dinner table. You'll take her to the bedroom like a gentleman."
It's a bit ironic that Robert wants Lawrence to be a gentleman and fuck his mistress in his wife's bed, but he's the guest here, he's in no position to argue.
Lawrence nods and rises to his feet. He holds out his hand to help you down from the table, which you eagerly accept. You lead him through the house and up the stairs to the bedroom, Robert following close behind.
You turn the lamp on and turn to the two men standing in the center of the room and sit at the foot of the bed. "Daddy?" you ask, voice sweet as honey.
"Yes, dear?"
"Would you take my shoes and stockings off please?"
Everything about this situation surprises Lawrence. You call Robert Daddy? He is eager to kneel at your feet and take off your shoes and stockings when you are perfectly capable of doing so yourself?
Once your pantyhose is balled up next to your shoes on the floor, Robert begins to kiss up your legs. You hum with contentment as he does so, but you don't look down at him, no. You're looking at Lawrence.
"Come here, Doctor," you say, beckoning him forward.
He crosses the room to stand next to you. You reach out to grasp his tie and you pull him down to your level. His breath hitches in his throat at the display of dominance, eyes glued to your lips.
"I like when Daddy's in charge, but I always get what I want. He spoils me rotten, but that's the way I like it. Daddy knows what happens when he denies me, doesn't he?" you ask.
Robert peaks up from underneath your skirt. "I've learned my lesson," he says before resuming his exploration of your thighs.
"Are you going to give me what I want?" you ask, turning your attention back to Lawrence.
He swallows thickly. "Yes."
You grin. "Wonderful. Now, take off your shirt."
You let him go and he stands up straight. Lawrence is surprised that you're so demanding, almost entitled, but he's working open the buttons on his shirt anyway.
He reveals his pale chest dusted with light hair. His pink nipples are peaked from the cool air in the room and he feels a flush rise to his chest under your gaze. As he opens his shirt further, you can see the happy trail that leads underneath the waistband of his pants, and your desire for him grows.
While you watch Lawrence, Robert pushes your panties to the side to touch your pussy. He gently strokes your clit with his finger and tongue, caresses your folds with slow licks, and dips his fingers just the slightest bit inside you. He's teasing you, but you're not worked up enough to complain about it yet.
"Now the pants," you order.
Lawrence slips off his shoes and undoes his belt, letting his pants fall to his ankles. You lick your lips at the sight of him standing in his briefs.
"Daddy," you say, pulling him away from your cunt by his hair.
"Yes, dear?"
"Take your clothes off too."
Robert does as he's told and undresses. You watch Lawrence trying not to watch Robert and it amuses you. Once both men are left in their underwear, you pull down your skirt and take off your blouse, leaving you in your own undergarments.
You stand up and step between the two men. You place a hand on both of their chests and urge them closer. Lawrence hesitantly puts his hands on your waist and Robert grabs your hips from behind. Both of them explore your body with your hands, and when they touch, Lawrence gasps.
"No need to be so shy, Doctor," you say while looking into his eyes. "Daddy doesn't bite."
Robert tucks his face into the crook of your neck and does just that; he sinks his teeth into the sensitive skin and you gasp. Your back arches and your chest presses against Lawrence's.
The man in front of you looks down at your breasts, almost entranced by them. You notice, of course.
"You can touch them if you want," you say.
Lawrence studies your face for any sign of hesitation, but all he sees is you batting your doe eyes at him. He slides his hands up your torso and cups your breasts in his large hands. You hear him let out a shaky breath and both you and Robert chuckle.
"He's so easy, Daddy," you giggle.
Robert wraps his arms around your waist and presses his chest against your back. "It's been a while for him, honey. Don't be mean."
Lawrence's cheeks are a delicious pink and it makes you want to tease him even more. You run your hand down his chest, stomach, over the fuzz under his navel, and over the bulge in his briefs. His body jolts at the contact, so you do it again.
"Fuck," he whispers.
"That's a naughty word, Doctor. I didn't think someone like you would do something like this."
Your hand slips underneath the waistband and you grasp his cock. You give it one firm stroke and when he lets out a groan, you grin.
"Haven't you tortured Dr. Lawrence enough for one night, dear?" Robert asks. He's phrasing it to sound like he's trying to benefit Lawrence, but you know he's getting impatient.
"I just want one more thing, Daddy," you say, looking over your shoulder at him.
"Anything for you," he smiles.
You have a devilish twinkle in your eye, one Robert knows well. "I want you and Dr. Lawrence to kiss."
Lawrence gawks, his eyes flicking up to Robert's to see if he's also shocked. To his surprise, Robert looks as if you've just asked him the weather.
“You’re a scientist, Ernie. Do it in the name of research,” Robert suggests. “Or in the name of getting your dick wet. Whatever works for you.”
"Okay," Lawrence says hesitantly.
Robert moves from behind you to stand next to Lawrence. He gently places his hand on the taller man's hip and leans close. You watch eagerly as Robert reaches up to press his lips to Lawrence's. Lawrence is stiff, but he's not rejecting the kiss. He's pliant for Robert, allowing him to take control.
The kiss doesn't last long and there's no tongue, but it was enough to satisfy you. When the two men part, they both look over at you. Robert's pupils are lust-blown and Lawrence looks like he could pass out.
"Was that what you wanted?" Robert asks.
"It was perfect, Daddy," you smile. "Now Dr. Lawrence has earned my pussy."
You scamper off to the bed and lay down on your stomach. Your feet hang over the edge of the bed a bit so there's enough room for Robert by the pillows.
Robert walks around the bed, taking off his underwear before climbing onto the mattress and sitting in front of you. His cock is hard and leaking, and you bite your lip in anticipation of what's to come.
"You tell him what to do, Daddy," you say while looking up at Robert through your lashes.
With Robert's legs positioned on either side of your head, you open your mouth and take the tip of his cock into your mouth. He lets out a groan when you suck gently.
"Why don't you come give our good girl what she wants," Robert says over your head to Lawrence.
Wordlessly, Lawrence steps forward and gently grasps the waistband of your panties. You move your legs to make it easier to take them off and Lawrence is met with the sight of your dripping cunt.
"Fuck," he whispers to himself.
Lawrence takes off his own underwear and begins to stroke his dick while looking at your ass. Robert watches him with a raised eyebrow, wondering when he'll get to it.
"Eat her out first. You can't fuck her dry," Robert says.
"She certainly isn't dry," Lawrence says as he kneels behind you and spreads your legs apart.
You squirm a bit when he leans in, his hot breath tickling your inner thighs. He starts by licking up your pussy, vaguely aware that Robert did this earlier. He can't tell if he's tasting your juices, Robert's spit, or a mixture of the two, but it's intoxicating.
He teases your clit with his tongue while you do the same to Robert's cock. You can't help the moan that escapes your mouth when Lawrence works his tongue into you. His hands grip your thighs as he buries his face deeper into you, making his glasses dig into your skin.
It's good, too good, but you know getting fucked by him will be better. You pull off of Robert and look up at him with a pout. "Make him stop, Daddy. I wanna cum on his dick, not his face."
The idea of you soaking his face makes Lawrence groan into your pussy and he is reluctant to stop. You're clearly impatient because before he has the change to remove his tongue, you're reaching back and pulling him away by his hair.
Lawrence whines at the tug on his roots. It's an accident, an entirely involuntary reaction and one you will file away for later.
"You heard her," Robert says, giving Lawrence the green light.
You work your way farther down Robert's cock as Lawrence kneels on the bed behind you, positioning himself properly. The tip of the cock hits the back of your throat and you gag. Robert looks down at you sympathetically and cups your jaw, stroking it soothingly.
"Take it all, gorgeous. Don't choke on it, I know you can do it."
Lawrence would be lying if he said Robert's dirty talk to you wasn't also affecting him. His cock drips as he nears your entrance and he is certain he won't last long. His tip bumps against your folds and you tense up at first, but then relax.
"Go ahead, Doctor," Robert says with a teasing lilt. "Fuck her."
Taking directions from Robert makes Lawrence's cock throb, but he pointedly ignores the implications of that in favor of relishing in the feeling of your tight cunt as he pushes into you.
He goes slow as to not hurt you, but your hole swallows him up greedily so he figures he doesn't have to worry about that. Once he's seated fully inside of you, he lets out the breath he was holding.
He braces himself on his hands and knees and begins to rock his hips. After so long with only his hand, your cunt feels like heaven. Even the friction of his lower stomach on your ass makes him dizzy.
At the head of the bed, your lips are pressed around the base of Robert's cock and you're focusing on trying not to choke. He's praising you like he always does, but it's hard to hear him over the blood rushing in your ears.
Your lipstick stains his cock, marking him in a way that makes Robert's possessive hindbrain go wild. He tries to be considerate when you suck him off like this, but it's so difficult to stop himself from bucking into your mouth and making you take him.
Pretty soon, you're getting fucked from both ends. Lawrence is pounding into your cunt, dick dragging along that sweet spot inside of you that fuels the flame inside of you. Robert instructed you to relax your throat so he could grab your hair and work you over his cock at his pace.
This is always your favorite part of the scene, when your bossy, bratty demeanor is replaced by a needy, submissive one. You're still getting what you want, but the punishing strokes of both men make it feel like they're the ones calling the shots.
Your whines and moans are muffled by Robert's cock, but both he and Lawrence are making noise freely.
"You feel so good," Robert praises. "My pretty little girl."
Lawrence doesn't do any talking, save for the occasional swear. There's mostly heavy breathing and small moans coming from behind you, and that just won't do.
"Spank her, Ernie. Makes her even tighter," Robert says.
"Can't get much tighter," he says, breathless. He brings his hand back and delivers a slap to your outer thigh. You choke on a cry and like Robert said you would, you got tighter. "Shit."
"Her cunt feel good?" Robert asks. He knows how hot it makes you when he talks about you like you're not there.
"So fucking good."
"You like sticking your dick in students, Doctor?" Lawrence moans low and long. He drapes himself over your back to rut into you with a newfound desperation. "You're never going to look at her the same."
Robert's right. The two of you have ruined Lawrence's life. He won't be able to teach or even think about physics without thinking of his student with the tightest pussy he's ever fucked.
"I'm gonna cum," Lawrence says. He's embarrassed that he was so quick, but he held it off for as long as he could.
"You better pull out," Robert says, still forcing you down on his cock. "You wouldn't want to knock her up, would you?"
Lawrence curses and quickly sits up to jerk himself off over top of you. Robert watches intently, ignoring you while Lawrence squirts his cum on your lower back. He groans and his head lolls back, the fatigue and relief hitting him once he's ridden through his orgasm.
Lawrence stands at the foot of the bed to catch his breath, watching the scene in front of him. "You're not finished," Robert says, his voice noticeably more airy now. "You're not done until she cums for you."
Resuming his earlier position, Lawrence eats you out with the intent of having you soak his face. He rubs your clit with his thumb, fucks you with his tongue, and moans into your cunt, all while you get face fucked at the head of the bed.
"Good fucking girl. You're gonna make me cum," Robert says to you. "Where do you want it? On your face?" You try to shake your head but Robert's hand on the back on your neck makes it difficult. "You want to swallow it, don't you?"
You moan loudly and nod the best you can. Robert smirks down at you and his body relaxes as he prepares to cum down your throat. You allow yourself to be used and focus on the pleasure of Lawrence's tongue inside you.
Like the last time he got you close, it didn't take much time at all. Before you know it, your cunt gushes all over his face and you cry out. Lawrence's mouth floods with your cum and he drinks it down eagerly.
With one particularly deep thrust, the first spurt of cum hits the back of your throat, making you gag. You're helpless to do anything but take it, though you don't swallow yet. You know Daddy likes to see it in your mouth.
Distracted by Robert's orgasm, you don't realize that Lawrence is still working your pussy until it becomes painfully sensitive. Robert pulls out of your mouth and lets go of your neck and your body jolts, trying to escape the stimulation.
"Stop," you whine, but its muddled by the puddle of cum on your tongue.
Lawrence immediately pulls away and you look at him from over your shoulder. He's sweaty: hair wet, chest glistening, and glasses foggy. He looks absolutely wrecked, but you don't get to admire him for long because Robert pulls your attention back to him.
"Hasn't anyone told you not to talk with your mouth full, little girl?" he asks, holding your jaw. "Open up, let me see."
You do as you're told and stick out your tongue so he can see the pearly liquid. He smiles, satisfied, but it morphs into something wicked.
"Why don't you go give Dr. Lawrence a kiss, dear? Thank him for making you cum."
Robert gives you a look that screams don't question me. You sit up, legs shaking, and turn to where Lawrence stands at the foot of the bed. You don't say a word, but you look up at him with wide, tantalizing eyes.
This time, Lawrence doesn't look to Robert before making his move. He ducks down and cups your jaw with his large hand before slotting his lips against yours. You escalate the kiss by pressing your tongue to the seam of his lips and when he allows you entrance, you let the cum flow from your mouth to his.
Lawrence whimpers, surely disliking the bitter taste, but swallows it quickly to get it out of his mouth. Despite that, he keeps kissing you for a second longer.
"Did you like it, Doctor?" you ask once you part.
Lawrence isn't certain if you're asking about the sex or the cum.
"Yes," he breathes.
You smile widely and look over your shoulder back at Robert, who is still sitting shamelessly nude and spread on the bed. The three of you sit in silence for a moment before Lawrence starts to redress.
No one offered him a place in the bed for the night and he certainly wasn't going to ask to stay. You crawl back up by Robert and cuddle into his side, laying your head on his wife's pillow. You both watch as Lawrence rebuttons his shirt and slips on his shoes without untying them.
Once dressed, Lawrence looks at the two of you and clears his throat, suddenly feeling awkward. "Thank you for having me," he says.
"Our pleasure," you giggle.
Robert reaches over to the night stand and takes a cigarette out of his case and lights it. He takes a long, slow drag of it before speaking.
"See you on Monday, Doctor."
Lawrence smiles sheepishly and walks out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Work certainly is going to be different from now on. Most notably, no one will be able to address him without him popping a boner in the middle of a lecture.
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janineirl · 2 months
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its time.
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forgottenpeakywriter · 6 months
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A young Oppie story for ya'll to read.
@happysparklingshadows @creativepawsworld @gridmouse86 @weirdworldofwinnie @hanawrites404 @no-fooking-fighting @mrkdvidal1989 @shynovelist @queenshelby @tommyshelbywhore
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queenshelby · 10 months
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Chemical Reactions (P. 2)
Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader
Warning: Smut in later parts, Age-Gap, Infidelity
Words: 1,867
Note: The fic is spoiler free and fantasy.
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Later that day…
In the lavatory, you inspected your appearance for a moment. You were wearing an embroidered peasant blouse paired with a plain cardigan, a dark coloured skirt and a set of comfortable shoes. Your hair was pulled back in a random clip which, for the meeting with Dr Oppenheimer, you decided to remove. You looked much better with your hair being open and, just as you looked at yourself again, you felt a pang of anxiety, wondering what Dr Oppenheimer was truly thinking of you.
Did he think that you were smart and worthy his attention or did he simply took pity in you because you were a woman?
You then scrunched your eyebrows after a second of thought and adjusted your bag on your shoulder to prepare to face the beast.
For some reason, this man intimidated you and that also, somewhat, aroused you which was a combination of feelings that you never felt before.
Thus, almost hesitantly, you arrived at the lecture room at around 5 o’clock, which was almost thirty minutes after your last class for the day had finished and, when you walked into the somewhat dingy room, you saw him, standing there, looking at am array of calculations.
"You are late” Dr Oppenheimer then remarked without even looking at you at first before, finally, turning around.
"You didn't actually give me a time..."  you began to say as you walked towards him and watched him furrow his eyebrows.
“No, I suppose I didn’t” Dr Oppenheimer acknowledged before turning the chalkboard over so that you could not see his writing and calculations at all.
“Have you figured the problem with your calculation yet?” you asked almost bluntly as, awkwardly, you stood in front of him. Your lab coat was draped over your left forearm while your right hand held your bag's strap to your shoulder.
You kept your eyes forward, directly in line with where his neck met his chest before looking up into his deep blue eyes which, by this point, were full of questions.
“Who says that there is a problem with my calculations?” Dr Oppenheimer then asked almost out of the blue and a short moment passed before he took your coat and bag from your hands, laying them on the nearest table.
“I think that you took a wrong turn somewhere and…” you began to stammer just before released the nervous breath which you did not realise you were holding until he began to speak again.
“Sit, please” he gestured and, just after you complied with his request and sat down in front of his large wooden desk, you could feel Dr Oppenheimer’s presence next to you.
“Do you have a pen and some paper?” you asked and, of course, he did.
“Of course” Dr Oppenheimer said as he placed two white pieces of paper and a freshly sharpened pencil in front of you.
“Now, please show me your calculations” he then said while he stepped back but, even though he decided to give him some space, you could see him out of the corner of your eye, watching you as you worked.
You wrote down formula after formula, directly from your head and whilst this was nothing but theory, you imagined every single reaction in the back of your mind.
You were fast and Dr Oppenheimer’s mouth hung open as he watched you work, focusing intently to be sure that it all made sense until, suddenly, your mind went blank. The proximity was making you hot and you felt yourself burning up under your blouse.
“That’s it?” Dr Oppenheimer thus asked and you shook your head.
“I just lost my train of thought, again…” you said, sounding like an idiot, causing the professor to chuckle.
“Am I making you nervous?” he then asked and, as if you had not already embarrassed yourself enough, you nodded somewhat dumbfounded.
“Right. My apologies. I will just take a seat next to you” he then said before pulling another chair to the table and sitting down right next to you which did not make this situation any better whatsoever.
Of course, he was no longer towering over you, but he was now much closer to you than he was before, acting and behaving almost like an equal.
“Go on then” he said, wanting to resume your work while the heat of his body began to burn you. You squirmed uncomfortably on your stool until you had to put the pen down to take off your cardigan which, by this point, was still partially covering your blouse.
"What is it?” Dr Oppenheimer then asked somewhat concerned but you shook it off.
"Nothing, I am just hot" you said plainly before taking in a deep breath and resuming your calculations which is also when Dr Oppenheimer became more interested in again and decided that he needed a better view.
You were now getting to the point of where you assumed he made a mistake and he was intrigued by the route you were taking in your formula.
“Explain it to me” he demanded, wanting to know why you are calculating the chemical reaction in the way you were and you had no problem telling him, in scientific terms, as to how you arrived at your conclusions.
As such, you talked and talked while squirming around until, eventually, you got back into position and wrote down another formula, which was one Dr Oppenheimer had not considered before and, just as you placed pen on paper again, you felt something touch your neck. Not soft enough to be hair brushing your neck, but not enough pressure to feel entirely deliberate.
“You aren’t even looking?” you then said as you otherwise stayed completely still when felt Dr Oppenheimer adjust your twisted necklace.
“Because you did it wrong” he responded as he picked up the chain and turned the jewellery until the clasp is on the back, where he dropped it back onto the nape of your neck. If you did not know better, you would have thought you felt his fingertips linger a little longer on your skin than they should have lingered there, but you could not be too sure.
“I did? How?” you asked while thinking about the science as well as how his fingertips felt on you, raising goosebumps on your bare skin. Him moving your necklace would have been harmless and platonic if it was not for that hesitation at the end of the action. The half a second too long that his hand remained on you, brushing lightly at the skin on the side of your neck.
“Allow me” the professor then said before taring up one of your pages and giving a plain piece of paper to write on.
He then took the pen from your hand and wrote down what you had written until you took this wrong turn in your calculations, which is where he halted and prompted you to think.
“Think about implosion, not explosion” he said and, almost immediately, the penny dropped and you gently grabbed the end of the pencil he was holding while making sure to let one finger feather a touch onto one of his.
"May I?" you say quietly, feeling his eyes on the side of your face as you looked at the pencil. The whole exchange only lasted a couple of seconds before he released the utensil and you leaned down over the paper while letting your shoulder brush his.
"Is that right now?" you then asked innocently after finishing the formula, turning to look at him as you gauged his reaction. This was the first time you had really looked at him since he first started explaining where you went wrong, and you were not sure what you expected, but it was not this.
Dr Oppenheimer only had his left hand resting on the table now, his chest turned towards you as he searched your face and smiled. You smiled back and held his gaze, trying to think of something to break the moment while keeping the upper hand.
“I am impressed but…” he then began to say and, instead of saying anything to him in response, you remembered the pencil you were holding and quickly moved to hold it between you and him. Without looking at it, he reached forward and covered your hand with his, those blue eyes on the verge of pouring into you. He then slid the pencil out of your hand and leaned down one more time, changing one of your subtraction signs to an addition. In your mind, you honed in on the mistake, cursing his distraction for causing you to make a mistake in front of him.
"Now, you're perfect" Dr Oppenheimer then said nonchalantly as he stood back up.
“Hmm” you stammered while trying not to react to his comment, or the fact that he used your own tactics against you.
Considering the moment gone, you picked up the paper and retreated in order to quickly get out of there as you could not help but think that you made things almost awkward now. Not only did you have more questions now than you did previously, you feared you may have moved you both in a direction that bordered on inappropriateness.
Obviously, you were flirting with him and he was a married man in respect of whom you got no read on when it came to his intentions towards you, because you were so consumed by the moment. You were consumed to his body's reaction to yours, his eyes, his parting comment, saying that “now you’re perfect”…
You then recalled the moments when you feared that your cover was blown, that he caught on to what you were doing, namely flirting with him. Part of you hoped that he thought he was flattering himself, similar to how you have been feeling, but something about this man told you he scarcely denied his ego satisfaction.
To be continued…
Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!
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weirdworldofwinnie · 8 months
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Oasis in a Desperate Land of Dark Desire - Part One: Arrival
Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Wife Reader, NSFW 18+ only
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Summary: You are married to the man in charge of the Manhattan Project himself, Dr. Robert Oppenheimer, and it's your first day (and night) at Los Alamos where tension and unspoken worry is getting high, but he finds time to show you how love can be an oasis in what seems like a rather barren land.
Word Count: ~7, 213
Warnings: Age gap (reader is mid-20s and he is almost 40, and they have been married for a couple years), period stereotypical gender roles (maybe sexism?), unprotected + oral sex, mention of miscarriage, and strong hints at infidelity
Disclaimer: Obviously NOT completely historically or scientifically accurate to real life and is inspired by the film with Cillian Murphy's portrayal of Oppenheimer. There are definitely mentions of Katherine and Jean Tatlock as lovers in this, but he does not have any children with Kitty and is not physically with either of them presently. I also want to clarify that this (while researched) is still just my interpretation with AU elements added in, and it isn't supposed to be in total support and reflection of the real man's life/personality. Scroll away and DNI if you are uncomfortable or take issue with this story; it is primarily for entertainment purposes only and it is just fantasy/fiction!
April 1943
The ride en route to the secluded destination christened as "Los Alamos" was long, hot, and bumpy through the New Mexico desert on a single primitive dirt road with the sun beating down on the windshield, glaring into your eyes and reflecting off the expensive dainty golden watch wrapped around your wrist that had been last year's anniversary present, and the jostling motion of the car made your breasts jiggle up and down slightly, reminding you that you'd been in such a hurry to leave with Robert this morning you'd regrettably forgone putting on a bra. He glanced over to you now, his porkpie hat shadowing the serious and contemplative expression that he had been wearing as a regular look for weeks now... Finally this plan was coming to fruition, but at what cost? It was the government's money and the scientists who were on the line. Robert let you know more details than most out of his non-physics inner circle because he trusted you to keep your lips sealed, but he never gave specifics about what exactly the coined Manhattan Project, or Project Y, was for in terms of a mission yet because it was national security level secret, however it didn't take a genius to figure out it was incredibly important and the development of something dangerous... Too dangerous to keep in a campus laboratory at Berkeley.
As the car approached the main gate and passed by the checkpoint, you realized just now fairly remote this barbed-wire location was and it made a small sinkhole crater in your stomach. But Robert knew this land from his youth and you partly did too, for he owned ranchland here and you both had spent many hours in the last couple years roaming on horseback and on foot into the twilight hours of the day, feeling the chill of the evening breeze and the rustle of shrubbery as the sun dipped down below the horizon and plum light bathed the landscape, bouncing off the backdrop of mountains and reaching deep into the canyons. You recalled fondly one time in particular during the early stages of being courted by him... It was technically only the second date and he had mistakenly trusted you with a horse, even though you were hardly an experienced rider, and of course it had gone ballistic and attempted to buck you off as you held on for dear life to the stiff dark brown leather saddle.
"Woah... Woah! Easy, easy," Robert had called out, grabbing a hold of the bridle and patting the stallion on the neck as you gasped and he kicked his hooves, thrashing the dirt and missing Robert's cowboy boots by inches.
"This one can be a bit rowdy, sometimes the wild never quite gets bred out, and he's not used to you," he explained simply over your panicked cries as he kept patting and verbally calming the animal down.
"But what did I do wrong? I swear, he dislikes me tremendously!" you exclaimed in shock and Robert only shook his head.
"Then he has very poor taste in women if he rejects you," he had joked and you went sliding off the horse's back to where Robert caught you, easing you to the ground gently.
"Are you alright?" he asked, eyes alight with a mischievous concern, but you merely brushed your pants off and smoothed your blouse, shaking the experience off.
"Of course I am. Now are we riding or not?"
He smiled at your confidence, but had hoisted you up onto his horse instead, straddling you from behind so you were facing front and clutching onto the reins. His arms loped around your waist and the horse began to trot, bouncing both you and him in a steady up and down motion, and you flicked the reins, causing the horse to take off into the expansive landscape and Robert let out a joyous whoop as the pace transitioned into a gregarious cantering gallop and the wind whipped your hair around like a battered Old Glory flag in a storm.
"This is too fast!" you had yelled out, but he only laughed, tightening his hold into a squeeze around you and spoke into your ear with a low murmur which instinctively made the goosebumps flare up on your neck.
"I wouldn't let you go even if that horse went mad and flew us off the ground over into a ravine to our deaths."
A little more than six months later after that frivolous adventure, he had dropped to his knee in that very desert and proposed to you, a diamond engagement ring encased in a black box in his palms and you were startled, taken aback at the promptness and faintly aware he was actively seeing at least one other woman at the time, but he had claimed he called it off with her a week ago.
You had cautiously accepted, knowing he was far from a wholesome man, but he was certainly one in a billion and you had unapologetically been with him ever since, even though some friends and extended relatives had openly judged, thinking you were only climbing up a social status ladder by doing so, and a couple of your more left-leaning girlfriends thought you were foolish to already settle for a man at your young age, but you truly loved him. Romance was rather odd; so rushed it could be and yet you felt comfortable around him as if you had known each other for life; soulmates, perhaps, if there ever was such a notion.
The wedding ceremony had been lavish enough to make you feel special, but it had been a more low-key event with only a small group of the closest friends and family in attendance, for he did not want much pomp and circumstance and you had spent the honeymoon at his secluded New Mexico ranch property, bizarrely a sort of prelude to where you both were ending up now. The phone hadn't stopped ringing for the past few weeks and since this work was taking up presidency, it was truth to be told that you hadn't really had time for each other and had been distant these past couple months as he diverted all his focus and intellect to the government and you hoped that after all this preparation, everything would settle somewhat now that he was at the ground level site. You felt trepidation but also excitement because this venture felt relevant and Robert was in his element with the company of like minded individuals all working towards a common goal. His vocation in teaching what he already knew of upper level physics had been boring him lately and he had told you multiple times he was haunted by the pressing need to be essential to the war effort outside of the confines of a classroom; he and his students had to make a real impact and change to the world, to this damned war. And if Robert wasn't the most ambitious, motivated, self-driven intelligent human being you'd ever met, then you'd be stumped to know who was right for the job; he could be dangerously dogged and was as loyal to this country as roots were to their corresponding corn stalks.
And now, starting today, he was the one man scientific director, a ruler really, of this militarized oasis in the middle of, well, nowhere.
Fractions of the place were still in progress, as evident by the trucks and the hammering with the occasional man lumbering past hauling construction boards on his shoulders. The Oppenheimers were still early in arrival, but everyone else on the project was supposed to be settled in by the end of the week. The house you and your husband were to live at was much better off than the cookie-cutter houses hastily put up suburban style along the man-made streets and it was tucked furthest away from the epicenter of town; a large spacious log and stone cabin (that had been formerly a boys' school) ranch style home surrounded by pine trees and shrubs along with a decent yard with that seemed ripe for cultivating a garden, and yet the home was modest and not overly luxurious; this was no vacation.
"The kitchen isn't finished?" you asked in surprise at once upon entry inside and Robert sighed, knowing you how much you had a penchant for cooking and he also knew that hosting gatherings here was going to be essential.
"I'll make sure they get it complete by the end of the week," he assured, resting a hand on the small of your back as you dropped down the luggage on the floor.
"Well, it is rather nice otherwise," you admitted, turning to him and smiling, but he couldn't quite return the gesture.
"Robert, what's the matter?" You reached to cup his cheek and he leaned into your touch before lifting up his own hand and placing it atop the one plastered to his face.
"I'm frankly worried how this is all going to work, how soon we can accomplish what we need to do. The death toll in Germany grows by the day, it may already be too late and..."
You placed a hand to his lips, shushing him with sadness.
"Please, shh, I'll have none of that talk when we just arrived in our new house. We are here now and that is the most important first step that matters towards any kind of accomplishment to your saving the world from this hellish war."
"I need to go do some oversight on the operations in town and at the laboratory," he announced abruptly, stepping back from your touch and picking up his briefcase as you nodded, moving with him to the front door.
"I'll see you tonight then. I think I'll make deviled chicken with a creamy coleslaw."
"I'm sure it will be delicious." He gave a tight smile and it was a somewhat ironic statement coming from the man who ate less than a thousand calories a day. That was one frustrating aspect about him that you had discovered when you had moved in with him back in California and realized he never had regular meals, and lately drinks and cigarettes were his main fuel. You hoped one of these days your passion for food would finally rub off on his aversion, but it probably wouldn't happen here with the increased supply rationing.
He disappeared out the door with his hat and you stood for awhile, taking in this new environment inside the main part of the house with its interesting architecture of high beamed ceilings and picture windows that allowed ample amounts of natural light at almost all hours. You spent most of the day unpacking and organizing, briefly going out to greet and visit with the other wives of top scientists, some you already knew, but others you had not met until today and you noticed that one of those you weren't familiar with was visibly pregnant... She was even younger than you and seeing her led you to wonder how quickly this little manufactured desert town was going to see a population boom in the next few years. Robert had brought up the concept of having children with you on more than one occasion, since you had already gone through one miscarriage (only in your first trimester and you never knew the sex of it, the doctor told you it could have been worse if you had carried to full term and lost the infant at birth, but it was still a gutting loss... Although you knew Robert was privately relieved, especially now since his work would likely leave no room in his heart to father an innocent, demanding child and all the burden would go to you alone) and there was the fact of possible infertility. The hardship of procreation probably ran in the family... Your mother had also miscarried, then had your premature brother who caught polio at two years old and perished weeks later, and then she herself had died during your own childbirth, leaving your father devastated and alone to care for you. You had a complicated, strained relationship early on with him and you wondered perhaps Freud was loosely right about the Oedipus complex since you always had such strong attractions to older men... but at least your father always tried to give you the best possible life he had with his wealth, which led you to moving out from your childhood home in New York across the country to pursue attending college in California in the field of psychology and medicine. You had been in the process of getting a degree in nursing, at least until Robert altered your life by his own ambitions and you had been forced to drop your studies temporarily to move out here with him, but you planned to be studying some by correspondence if the government allowed and also to be able to help out in the small hospital on site for an occupation.
To trim the excess fat off a long story short, it had been a bizarre fluke that you met and promptly fell in love with Robert... you were introduced on campus by friends who also knew Jean Tatlock, a budding psychiatrist and proudly Communist, and he had happened to take a bright shine to you. You considered him unattainable at first, a very well respected brilliant physics teacher with more life experience than you could have dreamed of... He was otherworldly at times, yet found grounding earth in your presence, but it would mystify you what exactly he found so desirable in you. You were as lovely as any other woman your age and smart, but you never thought of yourself as outstandingly intelligent when compared to the people he taught in academia, and not absolutely drop dead gorgeous in terms of prize worthy beauty. Perhaps the attraction, like Robert's scientific passion, was on a molecular scale and only bonded by invisible atoms making the illusion of being a solid relationship. Maybe it was as basic as the fact that you two were mutually compatible with each other and respectable of any differences, unlike his other fiery messy relationships with Jean and Katherine. Would you having a baby split that all apart? Personally, you weren't sure you were ready for any offspring yet and to be thrown into motherhood when you were still navigating having a successful marriage and you highly doubted "The Hill" (as the residents here were calling it) would be a healthy environment for children to thrive in, despite the efforts for a school and daycare, seeing that there were armed uniforms milling about all hours of the day and silent stress was already pervasive in every look, cough, and casual conversation you noticed through passing by. And it was only day one of, as Robert predicated, two to three years of hard work swathed in isolated secrecy.
As daylight began to fade fast and inevitably hand itself over to the darkness, you went back to the house to fry up the chicken. The stove was effective, although one burner seemed a little on the fritz, but half of the cabinetry was unfinished and the counter space was minimal.
Laying out the cream-colored napkins and the finest china you had brought packed securely in a box, you delicately set the table. Despite not having a birth mother to guide you through womanhood, you took to home keeping fairly well and religiously read the magazines, believing being married to an upper class man meant all these details and roles. But privately you also felt the crushing pressure and caught yourself wondering if you were immature to be in this mold. Robert never told you otherwise though and he would theoretically be the last man to stamp out a woman's sense of inner individuality, but you couldn't ignore the fact you, while willingly, still had to sideline your educational and career priorities to come support and live here with your husband. But it didn't matter too much, for you knew in your heart you could follow this man to the ends of the earth if you so desired.
For good ambient measure, you lit two pillar candles in the center of the tablecloth and just as you laid the food on a plate, you heard the front door crack open and the soft clomping of shoes.
Robert would never be the 'Honey, I'm home!' type of husband, yet he always managed to make an entrance regardless, especially now. His slender frame leaned into the doorway, hands crumpling his hat in front of his crotch and the candlelight flashed harrowing ghoulish shadows across his sharp cheekbones and dull pinkish lips.
"Well, what do you think?" you proposed, gesturing to the table spread when he didn't speak. He only gazed at your feminine features, his eyes full of desire that wasn't for the dinner you made, and when his mouth finally parted, he spoke in a husky voice, slowly coming closer and abandoning his hat to a chair, closing in on you.
"I'm sure it is very palatable, but I fear my hunger cannot be fulfilled by only earthly consumption," he confessed, ducking to kiss your cheek and moving his hands up to your neck, caressing your nape and moving his mouth to your lips, but you gently pushed him away, pressing into the fabric of his gray suit jacket.
"We should wait until after dinner," you told him earnestly, knowing what he wanted instead.
"Dessert, then?" he murmured, coming close again despite your light physical resistance and thumbing your bottom lip. You smiled and his arm snaked under your skirt and between your thighs, hand crawling upward to your panties and you breathed in, changing your mind.
"Maybe I can wait to eat after all."
His breath caught, a single finger inches from hitting your covered vaginal area, before he removed his teasing hand and pulled back, gripping your shoulders with conviction.
"Eat. You deserve it and you worked hard on preparing it, I can observe."
He bent down, gentlemanly drawing out a chair for you to sit down in, which you did, letting his hands linger at the neckline of your blouse before he walked around to the other side of the small round table and took a seat, rummaging out a cigarette from the pack in his shirt pocket and striking it up with his lighter, the smoke wafting in wispy trails around his head. You took a careful first bite, relishing in the flavor and spices (paprika in particular) as he sat there across from you, relaxing back in his chair and taking a drag on the cigarette, puffing out a sigh. You smirked, swallowing a forkful as he kept his gaze steady on you.
"You're making me self conscious, just sitting there surveying my appetite," you told him and he grinned, fiddling with the cigarette.
"I enjoy watching you eat. You are the very essence of life I see lacking in so much of this world."
You blushed in the warm glow of the candlelight, remaining humble.
"That is quite a compliment I don't know if I'm quite worthy of."
"You are, no jury would contradict me." He nodded sincerely as he smoked and you ate in silence for a few minutes before he then finally gave his cigarette a rest and poked at his food, politely taking a few bites of hot chicken and chewing at a snail's pace.
"How did today go?" you tentatively asked, finishing off your own chicken and moving to the rich, crunchy coleslaw.
"We will be making progress. Although I will always say, that General Groves is the most obstinate man with the exact deposition one would expect from a bulldog," he answered with a touch of bitter amusement.
"Should you be saying that? They're... not listening, are they?" you asked in a hushed paranoid voice, glancing around the room and knowing that the phone lines were tapped for sure, but you weren't certain they would go as far to place bugging devices hidden in the house.
"Relax, I could say much worse," Robert admitted nonchalantly with a harmless shrug and you allowed yourself a chuckle, mentally picturing a bulldog in a General's uniform. You took a bite of cabbage, changing the conversation to your side of social contacts in this limited town.
"I met with our neighbors and the other ladies today. They seem cordial and we have already exchanged pleasantries and plans for a party next weekend. I also offered to babysit one mother's two rambunctious little boys and spoke to the doctor at the medical facility about assistance there."
Robert nodded, gesturing with his empty fork.
"Keeping busy I see, but I'll have to arrange to let you in the office sometime instead of spending your days cooped up here and at the neighbors. I missed you and your insight already today."
"But you know I am not privy to everything you and your scientists are doing here..." you started to protest before he cut you off.
"I'm well aware, but I doubt a visit to my own office will cause a security uproar. You are my wife, Y/N. The reason most of the scientists came to Los Alamos in the first place was not solely the work, but because they could bring their wives, their families. We do our best work with moral and... sexual support." He raised his eyebrows and you felt a tingle run through you, a yearning for exactly what he was suggesting, but you had to finish the meal first.
Once you cleared most of your plate, he surprised you by taking the dishes and quickly rinsing the plates in the sink before making and pouring out his signature martinis. You knew Robert must be silently stressed however, for he only took one sip of his drink before he moved outside under the roof awning with his tobacco pipe, settling down on a folding chair and gazing out at the landscape and listening to the low mumble of military personnel mingling about on patrol as though this were a prison (which it was).
You joined him with a cigarette a few minutes later (you had never smoked a single cigarette until you married Robert and unconsciously adopted the habit, but you weren't much of a smoker when it made you cough, yet you kind of enjoyed the nicotine having that convenient effect of temporarily soothing your nerves) and positioned yourself down next to him, letting the cigarette dangle from your lips while folding your hands neatly on your knees.
His eyelids were appearing heavy and his head drooped, chin tucking down. You gave him a bumping nudge and he looked over at you, teeth clamped down on his pipe.
"Tired?" you wondered and he gave a noncommittal grunt, fixing his eyes back straight ahead. You noticed how still he was - calm - and it was a welcome change from the past few weeks where he had been wound up, constantly on the phone at one point or another and gone for many hours in meetings. But now that nearly everyone was all here, it was almost too tranquil... giving the illusion of calm before potential chaos.
"Oppie!" a young man's voice suddenly called out and he came jogging into view on the rock slabbed pathway, halting slightly when he saw you.
"Oh, good evening Ma'am," he greeted courteously with a squinted smile. You smiled in turn, nodding, and he focused to Robert, who gave a tilt of his pipe in acknowledgement and stood up stiffly.
"Any news I should know about, Feynman?"
The man paused, glancing to you warily.
"Is it about the nature of our work?" Robert asked sharply and Feynman shook his head.
"No, sir, it is not pertaining to that."
"Well, whatever it is you can say in front of my wife and I then."
"It's just a communicative matter. There was a phone call from a young woman asking for you earlier that was flagged in the office for personal matters concerning security. Groves is in a fit and I was to inform you tomorrow, but I thought I'd give fair warning and-"
"Then I will address it tomorrow," Robert interrupted and without further word, took your arm and marched you back inside the house. You shook off his touch and shut the door hard, spinning to address him.
"What the hell was that about?"
He closed his eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing his forehead while exhaling.
"There are intimate ghosts that continue to haunt me," he answered cryptically, taking refuge in the lounge and sipping his martini, but you had a hunch however who was the "ghost" because you knew her and you pointed a finger sternly at him.
"This is about Jean, isn't it? How does she even know to contact this location? And I thought you were all done with her, as you are with that Katherine!"
"I am, I swear to it. But she is different than any other woman I have been with before you, though. She can be... unstable and she may need to hear from me."
"She just wants your sex, that's all!"
"It's more complicated than that."
"You had nights with her while you were having nights with me during courting, I heard about it from our friends. It was still the sex that was the driving factor that she desired from you."
He looked down, unable to deny that entirely and you backed away, shaking your head.
"I can't believe this, the first day here and you can't shake those Communist ties trailing us."
"May I remind you that you considered fully joining once upon a time in the not so distant past? We met at such a social function, remember?"
You bit your lip and refused to meet his wide eyes staring a hole into you, for this was very well true.
"I did, but I overcame it. It's ridiculous to devote one's energy to an ideology and not to concrete, practical solutions. I was never devoted and absolutely do not consider myself a member. I never was."
This made Robert scowl, setting his glass down with a clink.
"It is my opinion that you should be free to choose your dogmas, if you want any at all that is. Belief is voluntary, but it shouldn't be a crime; we all deserve our wiggle room."
"Is that what she told you too?"
He licked his lips, stepping close so you were involuntarily arrested by his blue eyes boring into yours and his hand slid up your arm, finding your shoulder and the bra strap peeking out from the neckline of the blouse.
"I see you put one on," he muttered and you blinked, almost forgetting about that little detail and refusing to be seduced by his perceptivity.
"Yes, I did. My breasts are still sore from that uncomfortable car ride."
"It's a shame they are so contained now," he whispered, beginning to undo the buttons on the blouse and push his fingers into the crevice between your breasts, but you weren't quite having it after the unresolved discussion and the way he had been moments before.
"We are going to do this now? After what I just accused? And besides, I thought you were too preoccupied and planning to sit out there half the night smoking away by your lonesome while I go to bed."
"You make nights worth bearing awake, especially tonight." He shifted, groping at your breasts and you stumbled back into the wall, breathing in shallow gasps. He put a finger to his lips conspiratorially and hugged your body with his own, speaking discreetly.
"We should be quiet to not disturb any nearby neighbors."
"They can't hear us and besides, I'm sick of piping down," you whined, remembering the date nights out in the desert where he'd lay out a picnic blanket and fuck you right then and there with the horses grazing several feet away and the canopy of stars winking overhead. You'd make as much noise as merited, probably confusing the yipping coyotes far off in the distance.
"I think we can try to control our auditory impulses for one night," Robert whispered, hands going to your waist and tugging at your skirt.
"The bedroom," you gasped, rushing away from him and down the narrow hallway, twisting around as he chased you with a huff.
"Where is it?" you asked anxiously, opening a couple doors and unfamiliar to this section of the house in the minimal lighting, when he suddenly pushed you from behind into an empty room with a single large king bed.
"Only the best for us," he told you and you fell forwards onto it, kicking your heels off and quickly flipping around to your back as he loosened his tie, casting it off to the floor and unbuttoning his white shirt as you sat up, reaching needily for his belt buckle and he leaned over onto you now shirtless and when he met your lips in a frantic kiss, you then noticed the prudent stench of sweat on his skin that was disrupting his usual familiar smoky flavor mixed with cologne and aftershave.
"Wait," you ordered, pressing a hand up on his collarbone.
"What is it?" he implored worriedly, searching your expression for the solution.
"Bath, you should bathe. It's been a few days and this heat isn't helping. Hasn't anyone told you that you reek like a dog?"
He groaned mournfully, leaning back and unfastening the belt, tossing it to the floor with a clunk of metal.
"You won't let me have you until I do?" he asked sadly, but you had an idea.
"What if I join you?"
His eyes sparked at this notion and you moved off the bed, finding the bathroom across the hall. This house was one of only a few equipped with tubs instead of showers; they didn't call this street "Bathtub Row" for nothing.
Robert finished undressing in front of you, tugging down his trousers and boxers, springing forth an already ready penis.
"You're going to make me work for it tonight, aren't you?" he asked as he stepped into the large basin, turning on the faucet and letting out a gasp when a strong stream of water blasted onto his bare feet.
"J-Jesus Christ, it's freezing!" he exclaimed loudly with a sputter and frantically slamming a hand on the knob as you laughed from your spot by the sink, taking out your earrings and slipping off your small wristwatch.
"Get in, I was warned about the water supply around here possibly being fickle, even for us," he commanded as you finagled your skirt and blouse off with your bra and panties discarded to the bathroom floor before taking a leg over the tub and stepping in to sit down across from him, letting the tub fill up one third of the way as a sitz bath before awkwardly reaching around him to grab the bar of ivory soap from the dish and began to rub into his back with it.
"I should've put in a request for an even larger bath," he complained as you scrunched up your legs against his and scrubbed dutifully into the folds of his skin.
"It'll do fine, darling."
He took the soap and you both took turns lathering each other up, making frothy circles with the creamy soap and rinsing, the water streaming down into the tub again, flooding both yours and his soapy complexion, washing it all off down the drain before having it fill up again, this time three quarters of the way. The water now pleasantly lukewarm, Robert contorted his body to submerge his head under the waterline and he came up with a loud splash, his wiry dark hair flattening to a wet mess on his forehead as your own dampened and you watched the droplets of water collect on his somewhat pallid skin. He scooted closer, entangling legs, and couldn't resist a quick dart of a finger down to your vagina and you whimpered as he touched your clitoris, inserting into you and making you arch your back and buck your hips when he inserted another finger, exploring around your wet velvety walls.
"God, Robert..." you moaned, digging your nails into the grooves of his skin and up to his head, feeling the cropped soaked scalp and neck. He suddenly lightly shoved you against the side of the tub, pressing his mouth to yours and naturally winding his tongue in, kissing you passionately until the water temperature grew too cold and you shivered, glued to his body and burying your face into his wet shoulder.
"That was merely the first act, sweetheart," he whispered and you smiled, leaning back a few inches so he could get up and step out onto the bath mat, taking your hand as he did so to pull you up and guide you out. Robert grabbed a large towel from the rack and wound it around the both of you, letting his genitals press up against yours and you both stood there for a while, listening to the steady drip-drop-drip-drop-drip-drop of falling water to the flooring.
"I'm surprised you've held off this long," you murmured, feeling his rising erection in between your thighs.
"I truly can't wait any longer," he admitted urgently and the towel dropped with a flump to the floor, and with bodies still slick with water, you and him exited the bathroom to fumble to the bedroom and the blue light from the window illuminated the sheets, the ideal love making spot. He let you collapse on your back and easily came down on top, gripping the back of your neck and already plunging in to align, but you squirmed in dissatisfaction.
"So soon?" you whined, wanting to play with and taste him first, but he was antsy to get to the pinnacle.
"Your virtuous patience should be framed and put on the walls of this house, along with your divine beauty," he whispered, head moving down to your breasts and you dug your fingers into his bare back, running along the bones of his more pronounced spine.
"C'mon, Oppie, let's do this the fun way... Give it to me," you begged and he cringed slightly, but rolled over onto his side and you immediately found his stiff penis with your hands, clenching around it firmly and stroking. He moaned softly and it flexed in your grasp... He could be a decent size when engaged, which was impressive for his underweight body.
"But don't you dare let me go without seeding you inside," he warned as though you had all the control.
"That's the plan."
Wordlessly, you positioned yourself down to the head of his cock and licked off his pre-cum, the recognizable taste milky on your tongue and you sucked, bringing it halfway in and fondling his balls lovingly in the meantime. He was breathing heavily and you didn't linger long at his member however because you could tell he was getting very close and neither you nor him wanted him to release anywhere other than the intended internal target. Pulling out and licking your lips, you repositioned your body on top of his and sank down flat to his chest, and he thrusted his hips up to meet you, heaving in with a grunt. You winced at the initial entry; you were always so sensitive down there (especially since the miscarriage), and he steadily kept at it, probing in further without being too rough.
"Fuck..." you breathed with a cry and he came forward to smooch your cheek as you mounted your hands on his shoulders and he pumped in and out, shaking the entire bed.
"That's exactly what I'm doing, my love," he breathed, keeping an intense gaze trained on you.
"Robert..." you groaned, letting him push as far as he could go until the pleasure was overloading and you felt his hot wet spurt of cum hit, eliciting a long moan from him, his slender frame shuddering beneath you. He closed his eyes and you kept a firm clench around his shaft, not ready to have him pull out yet. Gasping, you began rocking back and forth with ecstasy, your insides stretched to their limit and he seemed to know you were struggling to hold him.
"I'm coming out," he muttered and gently pulled back wetly so he wasn't balls deep in you anymore and then you repositioned to lightly ride him, which was your favorite position, and you bounced up and down on his upright full cock, orgasming a few more times as he watched your euphoria in rapture, so proud he alone could make you like this over and over until you were out of air and exhausted, collapsing to the side of the bed and feeling the sheets very damp with bodily juices.
Robert spooned you from behind, arms draped over to dangle his fingers on your swollen nipples and you matched his breathing in rhythm. Every time was somehow better than the last... Sex with him was as natural as breathing and you appreciated the consistent chemistry that you worried would have faded after a couple years of marriage due to what you'd heard about stress and boredom destroying a couple's sex drive, but Robert was not a boring person in the least sense of the term.
"We should do this every night," you offered hopefully and he chuckled.
"And make me the most lucky, tired man in this whole community? I'd be up for that, although it'll be a wonder if I get any work done at all when I've got this memory lingering with me tomorrow," he replied and you heard the smile in his tone, but with it came the bitter resurgence of the likely phone call from another woman that was bile in the back of your throat and even though he supposedly broke it off with her before you got married, you knew he had stayed in contact and you couldn't help but wonder how he fucked her and if it was comparable to what you and him had with each other, since she seemed to want him so badly. That wasn't to mention "Kitty" who he had insisted on still being "friends" with. A bit depressed and irritated, you pushed away his hands off your breasts and turned back over to face him in the dimness that made even those prominent blue colored eyes of his too muddled to see into.
"How did you become the most desired physicist to women in the whole country?" you asked softly.
"Good genes?" he guessed in amusement and you shook your head, not requiring a punchline.
"You're known to be a womanizer, neurotic, eccentric, a tad arrogant, and yet everybody seems to want you, including me as your own wife. Tell me, why did the universe give you such magnetized gifts?"
He gave a subtle lift of his shoulders with a small lazy smile as you laid your head on the pillow, fending off fatigue.
"Why was Aphrodite the one chosen to be blessed with such beauty and fertility? Why are we the way that we are? There are some matters of the human being to be unfounded in the definitive and everything is relative." He sat up with his back against the headboard and proceeded to light another cigarette and you sleepily watched the hazy smoke drift off above the bed towards the ceiling. He sighed, setting it to rest in the ashtray on the nightstand and wrap his lean arm around your body, drawing you close into his side.
"You are my goddess, Y/N. You are the only woman I want to return home too, always. Don't you know that?" he murmured into your hair and you vaguely nodded.
"I do, but I also know you're not always the most faithful man."
He lifted his hand and touched his ring finger to yours, matching the simple gold bands you both shared as two united.
"I married you out of good faith and the vows we pledged might have well been written in stone in the language of the gods along on the pulmonary arteries flowing as though a river into my heart," he told you with no trace of doubt, but you knew the whole story that didn't need flourishing.
"Only because the two other women fell through on commitment - although tonight I suspect they both presumably still want you - and one was already hitched, so she was having an affair by being with you and wouldn't divorce unless you happened to get her pregnant. I just happened to be the most available, the convenient bride with no attached strings, even though everyone said it was abnormally soon and I am too young," you recounted bitterly and he frowned, tilting your chin upward.
"Is that how you see it? I have never fallen for someone as fast and as hard as I did for you. I still feel the way I did when I laid a glimpse on you at Mary Ellen Washburn's party."
You smiled despite yourself and he bent to kiss the top of your head as you snuggled into his chest, absentmindedly fondling his moist cock with your fingers.
"I do love you beyond comprehension, Y/N," he whispered and you glanced up, meeting his look.
"I do too and I want to believe I always will, until the end of our existence. I am not those other women and I do not want to become so."
A solemn seriousness grew over him and he closed his eyes as you felt tears suddenly spike and an unexplainable terrible sense of dread came over you.
"Promise me one thing, Robert." You paused, taking a deep breath.
"Promise me that whatever happens to us in this world, in this setting, that you will always find a way home and whatever we face, we face together."
He gave a single nod, but you sensed reluctance in the way a muscle in his jaw made a minor spasm.
"I will always do my best."
"Alright," you resigned and he sighed, relaxing back and settling down into the sheets, further roping his arms around you and you burrowed your face into his chest, feeling his light hair follicles tickle your forehead. Tomorrow - and the future for that matter - was uncertain, but at least tonight was building up to a promise of solid sureness, a safeness, bonding those atoms of love again.
Love, or the feeling of it, was a lot like quantum mechanics; essentially invisible to the naked eye and complicated, but the one difference was that it was unmeasurable. No amount of numbers or equations could add up the real affection you felt for your husband, even when the waters became too choppy to be comfortable and it was far from perfect. You just had to cement the fact that you were Mrs. Oppenheimer and that wasn't going to change anytime soon, any disruptive external factors be absolutely damned to hell.
Thanks for reading, expect a little drama for chapter 2... And I do not have a full outline to every part of this fic, so please be patient as I find spare time to work on it and upload. I always appreciate any likes, reblogs, and feedback ❤️
*If anyone would be interested in being tagged, drop a comment and I'll make a tag list for the next part!*
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