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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

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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xmalereader · 9 months

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Thomas Shelby x Vampire! Male Reader

|| Masterlist ||

Authors note: It’s finally here, the last part of the Doctor Hemlock series 🥲. The inspiration was gained by watching; Oppenheimer ( because cillian ) S6 of peaky blinders and Story of Dracula. I mashed up all of these together and wanted to come up with something slight angsty and fluff towards the end? I’m thinking about making this short series into an actual multi chapter series with better explanation and view of their relationship, but I’d get into too much detail and lore of Hemlock. Anyways, please enjoy this last shot, I apologize for any history stuff I’m a huge history nerd which is why I enjoyed watching Oppenheimer.

Summary: The final part of the Doctor Vampire series.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, mentions of death, turning, history buff, language, mentions of WW2, marriage, past trauma, Oppenheimer reference, Thomas says his last farewell, character death, mentions of the future and past, kissing, slight mentions of blood, mentions of sexual assault.

Word count: 3.3k

—

December 1933

It’s been a a year since he escaped Oswalds grasp, doing things that he was not proud of while under the mans watch. He can still smell the rotten blood along with the sweat of other men who used him for their desires. After Oswald’s huge win on the nazi party he was finally let go under terrible conditions. He’s been locked away for months without the knowledge of knowing what happened to the Shelby family—what happened to Thomas.

After Oswald had won his way into the Nazi Campaign he was finally let go, tossed out from the basement that he was locked in after a year of torture and pain, unable to fight his way through without people taking notice of his existence as a vampire. The world wasn’t ready for it and he couldn’t risk it, not when he agreed to work under Oswald in order to keep the Shelby family safe and alive or so he thought.

Y/n went missing on the day that Polly was killed, for 4 years he was never to be seen again and leaving a bad impression on Thomas making him believe that he had left the family or had betrayed him, having no idea that he was trying to find his own ways to keep the Shelby family from losing anymore people. During his time locked up he heard very little of the family whenever Oswald paid him a visit, feeding him like usual and talking so highly about his latest wins and victories in politics and it letting it be known that he was reaching the high chair and reaching the top.

For a four years he remembered the smell of blood and vomit; Oswald was feeding him, but not correctly. The cruel man would bring innocent people to him in order to feed, knowing damn well that the vampire didn’t drink fresh human blood. He found ways to balance his diet without drinking from another human being after the first time he did. Feeling disgusted with himself he had no choice but to feed if he wanted to make it out of this place alive.

He remembers the cries of the people he drank from, lips covered in their blood as the life in their eyes die out. Once Oswald was satisfied with the results he left him alone with the corpse in his cell, letting him rot in guilt while vomiting up the blood he drank knowing that it wouldn’t do him any better. For four years he faced the torture of Oswalds men for those four years he was forced to lie about Thomas medical condition, making up fake reports of a disease in order to trick Thomas into thinking that he was dying.

For Oswald to get rid of his number one enemy and competitor.

After being released he spent his time looking for the Shelby family only to find nothing. Thomas was gone and so was the rest of his family. No trace of the family was left behind it was as if they all disappeared into thin air, leaving him on his own again. For the first few months he remained hidden from the public’s eye, not wanting to be recognized as the missing doctor of Birmingham. It felt like old times again, having to hide from the people as the years went on. As time moved forward he remained the same, having to adapt into the new century to come.

He watched as the world went on, watched as the fascists won and continued to rage on war onto their own people. It felt like history was repeating itself and he was there to witness it like always. It wasn’t until he noticed the news of Oswalds wedding, marrying the horrendous women that showed in the picture of the newspaper that his hand gripped. His blood boiled in anger at the thought of Oswald getting everything he wanted while he remained on his own, losing the only family he had left.

With rage blinding him he made his way towards the nearest place that could help him get to Oswald faster. Finding his way to Holford’s home, knowing that the man replaced him into becoming Thomas’ doctor for the past 3 years in order to get closer to the Shelby man.

Y/n had entered the property, ignoring the workers protest of him not being allowed inside as he walks further into the place, looking for the doctor until he hears a gun shot go off, getting his attention. He’s quick to rush towards the noise, standing at the entrance of a tunnel only to see the one person he never thought he would ever see again. He’s frozen in place, eyes wide while he stares into Thomas blue eyes.

Thomas stood at the other end of the tunnel, frozen in disbelief as he shakes his head slowly and murmurs to himself. “I’m seeing things.” He had seen his dead daughter and now he’s seeing a dead man that he once trusted with his whole life, telling himself that it wasn’t real.

“You’re in my head.” He says again only this time Y/n finally speaks up.

“Thomas?”

His voice was the same since Thomas last heard it, soft and warm. He wants to tell himself that it wasn’t real and that he died many years ago only for him to feel a warm pair of arms thrown around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Thomas stumbled back in his step, clearly in shock. His hands shook and his breath grew ragged.

“Hemlock?”

The doctor nods into Thomas shoulder, holding tight as Thomas gently placed a hand onto his back, feeling his heart beat. The feeling brings Thomas to tears, breaking down in front of them as his arm fully pulls him close.

Y/n knew that Thomas never cried unless needed too and he never judged the man for it as the two stand in the middle of the tunnel, holding each other close.

One relieved to have found someone they cared for and the other relieved to know that they haven’t lost everything.

—

Thomas and Y/n had gotten far away from Holfords place, out on the hilltop where Thomas’ carriage burned in flames. Instead of Thomas running instead to save what he had of his family he instead mounted his horse with Y/n climbing behind him as they road off towards the hills, far away from the place. The ride between the two was in silence, Y/n had his forehead pressed against Tommy’s back, one arm around his torso while Thomas held the reigns with one hand and the other holding onto Y/n’s arm, wanting reassurance that he wasn’t seeing things again.

The warmth of his hand was enough for Thomas to know that he wasn’t dreaming.

It doesn’t take long for them to arrive near a lake, dismounting the horse in silence as Tommy ties the reigns and Y/n sits near the river, watching the fish swim and the water run downhill. He feels Thomas sit next to him as the two remain close to each other.

The silence is later broken by Thomas. “You disappeared, thought you died.” He began, he played with the pocket watch he held between his fingers. “I went looking for you after Polly died—I knew how much she meant to you and had to tell you, but you weren’t are the hospital nor at your house.”

Y/n’s focus is still on the fish remembering that it was the same day that he was taken by Oswald’s men, captured and locked away.

“I asked Alfie if he knew where you were and he didn’t.” Thomas licks his dry lips. “I thought Oswald got to you and killed you, but your a vampire you can’t kill one easily—“

“Oswald took me that night.” Y/n cuts in, interrupting Thomas and getting his attention. He doesn’t look away from the river. “Oswald knew I was a vampire…his ancestors hunted us for years and he followed into their footsteps. When he found out that I was associated with you and your family he took advantage and threatened me, used me, and I—“ He looks down, holding back the guilty tears as he speaks. “He told me that he wouldn’t hurt any of you if I left with him and I agreed.”

The silence that Thomas was giving him was enough for him to keep his eye focused elsewhere, not daring to look at the man that possibly hated him only to gasp when Thomas reached out to touch his hand, getting him to look up at the other man who only stared at him with eyes full of tears. “I thought you died.”

Y/n shakes his head. “I could have…”

Thomas held his hand tight the two siting close to each other as they listen to the river run.

“We’re both dead to the world and we both lost.” Said Thomas.

After finding out that his disease wasn’t true he had the ability to turn back to his family, but after a month of being gone is possible that everyone thought that he had killed himself. Everyone knew that Thomas Shelby wasn’t going to allow a disease to slowly kill him and would much rather put a bullet in his own head. His family and friends probably think he’s dead already and knows that he couldn’t return to them, not after everything he put them through.

Y/n knew that he wouldn’t have much time with Thomas, having to live on without him. Thomas will pass on and he will move forward, watching as the world grows. “What now?” He blurts out. Y/n usually had things planned and out and knew what to do for the next hundred years, but after what happened in the past five he felt lost.

Thomas was the same.

He was always two steps ahead of everyone, now he felt like he was two steps behind. “I don’t know…” His response was honest he really didn’t know.

The vampire sighs while the two stared ahead, lost in thought and unknown to them on whats to come next. The cold weather was approaching and soon the hills will be covered in snow and new life will start again once spring hits. Y/n had spent years watching the world move on while he stayed the same, having to change every new century, befriend new people, watch them die, and repeat the cycle again. Only this time, he couldn’t do it again, not alone.

—

“What’s it like?”

“It’s like falling asleep and then you wake up.”

Thomas chuckled, head on the doctors lap as he stares at the night sky, stars shining down on them.

“There’s no turning back, Tommy.”

He rolls up his sleeve.

“I know.”

He bites into his own flesh, blood coating his lip.

“Then you know what you’ll face? It’s harder than it sounds.”

“Am I going to be alone?”

The doctor faintly smiles. “No.”

“Good.”

Their lips finally seal together.

—

December 1954

Y/n was sitting in the living room a copy of Times in his hand as he reads through the article, pen in hand and biting down on it in concentration. “Who would have thought that in 20 years a bomb big enough to wipe out an entire city could be seen as the worlds biggest threat.” He speaks out loud, flipping the magazine page as he reads through the article of the “Grandfather of the atomic bomb” news had spread around the world that America had used an atomic bomb to target Japan.

Killing thousands of innocent people.

War was nothing new to Y/n and has seen it for many years and it always end the same with millions of lives being lost due to politics that he never liked or partook into. Whenever he was invited to parties or event during his time as a doctor he was always dragged into political conversations, always finding a way out of it and leaving the crowd before it got too serious for him to handle.

The doctor sighs and closed the Time’s magazine before tossing it onto the empty space on the couch. Until a pair of pale hands picks up the copy. “If you hate it so much why read it?” asked Thomas as he sits next to the other man, reading the magazine in his hand while the other held a cup of tea, taking a small sip as he reads the cover.

It’s been twenty years since Y/n had turned Thomas.

Twenty years since they’ve moved to the states and started new lives.

Thomas looked healthier than he used too and was still adjusting to life as a vampire, learning Y/n’s diet and consuming human foods whenever he pleases. Due to him looking healthier he also looked young for a sixty year old man, the thought merely makes the doctor chuckle since he, himself, was far older than Thomas.

“Perhaps I should stop reading the papers.” He comments, siting back in his spot while lying his head against the cushions while watching Thomas flip through the magazine.

Y/n remembers the first few years of Thomas adjustments, watching as life went on while he stayed frozen in time and struggling with his thirst. Y/n had promised him that he would be with him along the way and wasn’t going to break it, teaching Thomas how to feed and starting his own diet. Before the two left for the states, Thomas had watched over his family and watched as they moved on with their lives, making changes to his company and using the funds that he gave to them for their own children. He watched Arthurs struggle of losing another brother only to heal with the support of his wife, Lizzie and Charlie both move to the country side were she was able to relax from the chaos and death she faced, while Ada remained a widow with her two sons, still lost in the dark from Thomas not telling her the truth as to why he left.

Thomas always felt guilty for not telling her, but she had been through so much that he couldn’t bring himself to tell her and thought that leaving without saying anything would make things easier for him only it didn’t. He bid his silent farewells to his brother and sister before traveling across the ocean and to the states where both Y/n and Thomas were able to start over.

Y/n had caught Thomas outside siting on the porch every night since arriving to America, unable to sleep as he thought about his family. Y/n’s couldn’t blame him and knew what it felt like to leave everything behind, knowing that he couldn’t be present without letting it be known that they were vampires, but with time Thomas grew adjusted to the changes.

“Science takes you everywhere.” Thomas sighs out deeply while setting the magazine down and turning to face Y/n who was already looking at him with a faint smile on his lips, causing the other to furrow his brows.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Y/n shakes his head softly. “It’s nothing.” He repeats himself, clearly proud and admiring Thomas.

“Very well…” Thomas slowly raised the cup of tea to his lips as the sun hits the silver ring he wore on his left hand, getting the vampires attention as his eyes followed the gleaming ring. Not only had Y/n turned Thomas, but the two had secretly gotten married a few years back, knowing that it was illegal for same sex marriage to occur and resulted in terrible consequences that both Y/n and Thomas did their own ceremony in private.

The two wore their own silver rings and would often be asked who their ‘wives’ were when they attend neighborhood parties or work parties and the two always found ways to change the conversation, throwing them off from knowing their marriage.

Perhaps in the future they’ll be able to get officially married?

“Any new patients?”

Y/n hums in questioning, getting pulled out of his thoughts when hearing Thomas ask about his work. “There all the same, mostly soldiers that have gotten back from the war.” He explains. “A few are still struggling with the shit they’ve been through.”

“I know what that’s like.”

Thomas knew of the second war that was raging on with Germany and the amount of lives lost.

The two had lost Alfie in that war and knew how close Y/n was with the man that the news devastated him. The doctor kept his distance for a few days, letting the news sink in before he could accept the fact that Alfie was gone.

“Now Russia is targeting America, think will live through this one too?” Thomas chuckled at his words, lips forming into a small smile. “I think will be fine.”

Who would have thought that they would make it through a Cold War.

—

January 2023

“—successful companies don’t just happen. Success requires nurturing, year after year, to assure that customers expectation not only are met, but also are exceeded. For this weeks assignment I want you all to research about any company or business that has succeed and to reasoning as to why.”

Thomas hears the rustling of bags being packed and the sound of laptops and notebooks being closed making him check the watch he wore and noticing that he went over ten minute of his class time. “I seem to have gone over my limit.” He chuckled, before dismissing his class. For years, Thomas had done different jobs; working in bars, politics, gambling, assassination, stay at home husband, and various others throughout the last sixty years.

He never thought that he’d enjoy being a professor and teaching business, having started when Y/n convinced him to give it a try due to his knowledge in business and knowing how to handle one since he used to own the Shelby Company.

It didn’t take Thomas long to get the job as a business professor.

His first semester only had twenty students, due to him being new not many students joined his class until the second semester hit. His list of students tripled surprising him by how much changed in such a short time.

When he told Y/n about it the doctor only grinned whiling telling him that his students tripled because of his good looks and not because of his lesson, but Thomas refused to believe his words and continued his teachings, oblivious to the fact that his husband was in fact correct and that majority of his students were only there for him.

“Is the professor available for a date?”

Thomas is startled by the sudden question, looking up from his paperwork to see Y/n standing on the other side of the desk, hands inside the pockets of the jacket he wore while a smirk spreads across his face.

“I have some papers to grade, but I can leave that on hold.” Thomas smiles in return while putting his stuff in his brief case while the doctor waits for him. In the last sixty years, Thomas never would have thought that he would see the world advance in such a way, watching the newer generation make changes to their own future, seeing things that he never thought he would see.

Even though Thomas was still stuck with his old ways he tried his best to fit in with the new world, having aged just a bit but not a lot to show how old he was really getting. He was in his hundreds alongside with Y/n, sticking together.

Once Thomas is done putting the papers inside his brief case along with the laptop he bought awhile back due to his old one no longer working properly. “Shall we go?” He raises a brow to Y/n who chuckled. “I’m always ready.”

He locks their arms together as the two walk out of the empty room.

#male reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x male reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x male reader #vampire series #doctor vampire #finale #series #dark au #cillian murphy x male reader #cillian murphy #SoundCloud

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drrav3nb · 5 months

Text

PEAKY BLINDERS - An Alternative Season 2

Tommy Shelby's desire to expand the family business leads him to meet Miss Celine, the owner of London's most famous nightclub, The Grand Dame. Her influence in the Capital is unprecedented and many from the criminal underworld to the wealthiest of men come to her with problems that only she can solve. However, after meeting Miss Celine, Tommy soon learns that she is as devious as she is beautiful and knows how to benefit from the misfortune of others, a tactic that forces the infamous gangster to join hands with her in a temporary alliance. But Celine has her own reasons for wanting a partnership with the Peaky Blinder and a secret that she wouldn't want him or anyone else finding out about, one that she would go to great lengths to keep hidden. Determined not to become a pawn in someone else's game, Tommy tries to uncover the skeletons in her closet only to realises that they're more similar than he initial perceived. This newfound knowledge soon leads to a deep friendship between the two and a blossoming romance.

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queenshelby · 2 years

Text

The Client (Part Two)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Domestic Abuse, Sexual Abuse

Words: 2,786

PLEASE ENGAGE AND COMMENT AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

“Cillian?” you asked with surprise after only having expected to see Dermont in the common area of the facility. You hadn’t seen Cillian for almost 17 years and felt as though you were corned, forced to greet him in a place like this, looking bruised and battered.

“Yes, it’s been a while” Cillian said and, whilst he usually had a good poker face, he couldn’t really hide his emotions when you stood there, right in front of him. One part of him wanted to hug you, hold you close and comfort you. The other part of him wanted to ask you “why”… Why didn’t you leave him earlier? Why did you marry this man? Why didn’t you ask anyone for help?

“I didn’t expect to see you” you stammered nervously while trying to cover up your bruises even though you were very well aware of why he was here, at the shelter. Dermont must have asked him for help but you most certainly didn’t want it.

You were embarrassed by the fact that he saw you like this, hurt and vulnerable and, after Cillian tried to approach you, offering you his assistance, you quickly shook your head.

“Y/N, I just really want to help you. Please let me” he said, looking at you with wide open eyes. They were still as blue as ever and, whilst you had checked out his Facebook profile in the past, you only just remembered how charming and convincing he was, simply by looking at you. These eyes could speak a million words but you wouldn’t fall them. You couldn’t. You needed to be strong and independent.

"I don’t need help Cillian. I'm fine, don't worry about me" you told him even though, the truth was, that your legs started to feel like they were going to break. You were in pain and, emotionally, you were completely drained.

“You are still quite stubborn, aren’t you” Cillian chuckled and you gave him a smile.

“Yes, I am, and perhaps, one day, we can catch up for a coffee but I am not taking your help. I don’t need help. I can do this on my own” you pointed out again and, by this time, Cillian’s calm facial expression changed and became a sad expression.

“Y/N, common” Dermont begged you and you shook your head again.

“No! And I cannot believe that you misused my trust like this. Clearly, you told Cillian about James. You had no bloody right to do that” you snapped at your brother and he wondered what popped up into your head for the sudden mood change.

Anger had overcome you and, eventually, you began to yell at Demont and Cillian. You were furious about being inundated like this and you felt as though your brother stabbed you in the back by bringing Cillian to the facility.

“I think it is time for you to leave. When she is ready, then perhaps you can visit her again” one of the security personnel said, seeing how wound up you had become and, with that, Cillian suggested to Dermont that it was, indeed, time to go.

Clearly, you needed to get a little more comfortable with the idea of having Cillian involved in your case and knowing what would happen next, he knew that you would come around when the time was right or, if there wasn’t such time, for a lack of choice.

***

Indeed, this time came and it came much faster than Cillian had anticipated. Your husband James had tried to make contact with you on a daily basis only to be knocked back by the security guards at the facility. Luckily, they were rather strict and scary looking and your husband didn’t to argue with them.

Leaving the shelter though was also difficult for you. You were afraid to be out on your own. You were afraid of him and his constant threats. He had left letters for you at the shelter, threatening you and you knew that he had investigators that could easily spy on you if this is what he wanted to do.

He was well connected to the justice and court system in London and often used private eyes to investigate cases of domestic disputes for his clients. He probably knew exactly where you were at any given time and you knew that, in the past, he even tracked your phone and vehicle. It was a rather tricky situation and the worst of it all was that you had nothing with you.

You had no clothes, no money, no phone and no identification.

***

A few days after your encounter with Cillian and your brother, you had built up the strength and attended your local bank branch together with Dermont who had been lending you as much money as he could The bank manager knew you well as James McCullan’s wife and you were not required to provide any kind of identification to him. But, regardless of this, he wouldn’t give you any money.

Your husband had cut you off and cleared out every account which was in joint names. He took everything from you and you had nothing left but the clothes on your back.

“You need a lawyer Y/N and, if you are not going to see Cillian, at least go and see Legal Aid” Dermont urged you on after you left the bank in tears but, the truth was, that you already saw Legal Aid with your case worker, Laura, who was working at the shelter.

Legal Aid couldn’t help you. Their case loads were too high and you were told that, since you could afford it, you should be seeing a private attorney to assist you with your case.

***

In the end, this was what you did three days later.

During those three days, you had built up all of the courage you could and went to see Cillian at his offices. You were accompanied by Laura, your case worker, for emotional support and had written down everything you considered important.

Dressed in a worn-out pair of jeans, some sneakers and a basic black t-shirt, all of which you were given at the shelter, you travelled downtown into possibly one of the nicest areas of London.

You felt completely out of place in this area but, yet, this district wasn’t unfamiliar to you. Your husband used to work in the exact same street where Cillian’s law firm was located and this, in itself, worried you.

You wondered if he still came here, to this area, on occasion and, if he did, would you be unlucky enough to run into him?

You sure hoped not and, when you reached the high rise building in which you were said to meet Cillian, you sighed with relief. This sense of relief lasted at least until you stepped into the elevator and nervousness immediately sat back in.

But, it wasn’t your husband who you were nervous about now. You were nervous about seeing Cillian and you were nervous about what he might think of you and what questions he might have for you.

He already had asked your case worker for photographic evidence of your injuries and you had already authorized him to get a copy of your discharge papers from the hospital in which you had stayed less than a week ago. This was after your husband had beaten you so badly that you miscarried at nine weeks.

There were allegations of emotional, physical and sexual abuse and you knew that, talking with Cillian about it all, was going to be difficult. You didn’t know how he would react and you were embarrassed about it all. You felt weak and vulnerable and this made you incredibly sick and nauseous.

***

“You must be Y/N, it is nice to meet you” a woman said, greeting you shortly after you sat down in the waiting room of Cillian’s offices. Him and his partner had about seventy employees and this, in itself, was quite impressive.

“Yes. It is nice to meet you too” you stammered nervously seeing how nicely the young woman was dressed.

“I am Janette. I am a paralegal and I work for Mr Murphy. He is just on a conference call and asked me to show you to the meeting room. He should be finished soon” she explained while giving you a quick assessment, probably thinking how a woman dressed like this can afford to pay the firm’s legal fees.

“Okay, great” you said nonetheless before you and Laura followed her to a large conference room and Janette offered you each a cup of coffee.

You gladly accepted the coffee and waited for Cillian who, after another ten minutes, came flying through the door.

“I am so sorry” he said, apologizing for being late and, to your surprise, instead of shaking your hand, he gave you a quick hug.

“It’s okay. Thanks for seeing me and…uhm…I am sorry about last time Cillian. I really am” you stammered after the scent of his aftershave had just left your nostril. He smelled amazing and the navy-blue suit he was wearing really suited him. He still looked like he did eighteen years ago, just a little more mature, with a few grey hairs.

“Don’t be. I am glad you changed your mind” Cillian told you in response before sitting down across from you, right next to Janette who flicked her hair back seductively and smiled.

Cillian then sat there in silence for a moment, looking at you as if he didn’t know what to say and, he probably didn’t. Perhaps he just wanted to be the person to tell you that everything will be okay. Perhaps he just wanted to be the person to comfort you. Or, perhaps, he just wanted to be the person to help you through your darkest times.

Eventually though, he began to talk and took you through the legal process slowly. He told you what the steps were, including obtaining an AVO, gaining financial support for you and requesting your husband to return your property to you, including your identification documents and mobile phone. He then reassured you that getting custody for your son would not be an issue given his age. He explained that, at 16, your son decides who he wants to live with and this was a relief for you. And, finally, he mentioned divorce. Of course, with all of this, you needed to apply for divorce. It was inevitable and you couldn’t wait until you were free from this monster.

“First, let’s talk about the AVO and getting you some financial support from him. This seems to be the most urgent matter and I have looked through the evidence and the discharge report from the hospital last week. You lied to the nurses and I am not going to ask you why. I am sure you had your reasons. But I am telling you that, the fact that you did, will make it more difficult for us to prove that you need protection from your husband” Cillian then explained quite suddenly before giving you a reassuring look.

“So, I cannot get an AVO against him?” you asked a little confused.

“We will get you an AVO Y/N but, if he challenges it, we will need to gather some more evidence” Cillian explained before handing you a box of tissues as he could see that you were becoming emotional already.

“The bruises and injuries seem quite severe. How are you coping with them now?” Cillian then asked and, whilst you knew that it wasn’t relevant to his case, you appreciated his gesture.

“It’s still painful and I am still bleeding from losing the baby” you explained reluctantly and you could see that Cillian struggled to digest what you were telling him.

“I am sorry Y/N, but I need to ask you some more questions about the harm he caused” Cillian said after taking a deep sigh.

“I know” you cried, holding on to Laura’s hand.

“Has he hurt you like this before or was this the first time?” Cillian asked carefully, knowing that this may trigger you to become even more upset and emotional.

“Yes” you cried before getting into more detail for him.

“He has hurt me many times. He beat me, raped me. He did terrible things to me. For years, he just treated me like I am worth nothing” you cried, your voice clearly emotional now.

“Y/N…” Cillian began to say with his professional façade dropping slowly.

“Don’t. I know… Just ask what you need to know” you told him quickly, interrupting him before he could say anything else.

“Okay” Cillian said before collecting his thoughts. He didn’t want to upset you anymore and decided to move on.

“Are there any records of prior injuries with other hospitals or medical centers?” he then asked and you nodded again.

“A year ago, I had severe burns and I saw my general practitioner to get some cream for them” you told Cillian for teary eyes.

“Burns? Did he inflict them?” Cillian asked a little surprised.

“Yes, he did! When James found out that…uhm…I…I had an abortion about a year ago he…” you cried, breaking down slowly.

“Take your time Y/N” Cillian told you while reaching across the table and holding onto your hand, unbothered by the fact that you held on to a wet tear-soaked tissue.

“He burned me” you sobbed.

“How did he burn you?” Cillian asked. He was shocked.

“He used the iron I used to do his shirts with and he just fucking burned me with it. It hurt so fucking much” you cried heavily, causing even Cillian to feel dizzy and it was at this point that Laura suggested for you to have a break.

Of course, both Cillian and Janette agreed but it was when they left the room and you overheard them talk about you that you became even more emotional than before.

“Why would anyone put up with this? I would never allow anyone to treat me like this” Janette told Cillian who, luckily for you, had your back and reminded her that cases like this are more common than she thought before re-entering the room without her.

“I don’t think I can do this. I am sorry for having wasted your time” you said to Cillian as soon as he walked back into the room.

“Y/N, please. I know it is hard but it is important for you tell me everything. Otherwise, I can’t build your case” Cillian told you but you hated it here, in this sterile conference room, being surrounded by a lawyer, a paralegal and a caseworker.

“Cillian, I feel like I am being judged. I am so embarrassed to lay out my life in front of all of you in a place I am not comfortable with” you explained to him and he silently nodded.

You could see that he was thinking about something and you decided to wait patiently to see if there was anything else he wanted to say.

“How about this…” Cillian eventually began, carrying on slowly.

“Tomorrow, I will get an order from the judge for urgent financial support and we will go to the police together and get an AVO against James. By the time James can challenge it, two or three weeks would have passed and, during those two or three weeks, I will come and see you at the shelter every day. You tell me as much as you are comfortable with. It’s just going to be you and me, at your pace. When I have enough information, I will file for divorce on your behalf and bring the charges against your husband for domestic abuse and anything else he has done to you. Sounds good?” Cillian asked while taking your hands into his carefully and in a comforting way.

“Just you and me? Without my brother, without any case workers or paralegals?” you asked after swallowing harshly.

“Yes, just you and me. Does that work for you?” Cillian asked and you reluctantly nodded. You were lacking options and, whilst you didn’t want to spill your misery to Cillian, he was probably the one who cared the most about your case. No other lawyer in this country would have had as much empathy and compassion towards you and you appreciated that.

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@peaky-cillian @severewobblerlightdragon @dolllol2405 @pkab @babaohhhriley @littleweirdoalien @alreadybroken-ts @masteroperator @stevie75 @shabzy96 @rainbow12346 @obsessedwithfandomsx @geeksareunique @laysalespoir @paigem00 @lkarls @suneshinebelledaisy (cannot tag)

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian Murphy au

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idksmtms · 1 month

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evermore series

To all the swifties who enjoy my writing, this one is for you! I got this idea at 3am and I am now committed! I'm gonna write a one-shot for each song from the album (at least the ones I can think of) for a variety of characters! This will probably go a bit slowly because I'm writing another series at the same time but I got a bunch of inspo for some of these songs and this idea so I have to do this!

Below I have the track list and the characters:

willow - Cillian Murphy

champagne problems - Aemond Targaryen Modern AU

gold rush - Kerry Von Erich

'tis the damn season - Aegon II Targaryen

tolerate it - Daemon Targaryen

no body no crime - Daemon Targaryen

happiness - David Von Erich

dorothea - Cillian Murphy

coney island - Kerry Von Erich

ivy - Kerry Von Erich

cowboy like me - David Von Erich

long story short - Cillian Murphy

marjorie - David Von Erich

closure - Uhtred Ragnarsson

evermore - David Von Erich

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starkwlkr · 9 months

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Hi I just found your blog as well as your Barbenheimer imagine and I absolutely loved it! Can you do more Barbenheimer and Cillian Murphy imagines like that soon. Like maybe it's after Cillian sees the Barbie movie and is talking about the movie to y/n?

she’s everything, he’s just ken | cillian murphy

here’s some more barbenheimer fics for you <33333

liked by ariana_greenblatt, zoesaldana and 2,463,780 others

y/n.l/n she’s everything, he’s just ken (and also the father of my child❤️) hope everyone loves Barbie as much as my husband does!

loservibes imagine calling cillian your husband and the father of your child

lanadelslay y/n wins at life

phoebexgenuis I’m jealous of cillian he gets to call y/n his wife and the mother of his child 😭

View all 56,737 comments

“Can you ask Greta if I can have a kenough shirt?”

It was a nice sunny day out and the Murphy family wanted to take advantage of it by spending it at the beach. Alex Murphy had been asking his mom for a ken shirt ever since he saw his mother’s film.

“I can ask her, sure. What color would you like?” Y/n asked, cuddling into her husband side on the beach chair they were laying on.

“Mum, you have to be joking! Pink. I think it will look great on me.” Alex nodded.

“Definitely. You look great in anything.” Cillian added.

“Can dad get one too?!”

“He’s for sure getting one and I’m taking a thousand pictures of my two boys.” Y/n chuckled.

After a while, Alex decided to build a sand castle while his parents relaxed. Cillian then broke the silence.

“I really did enjoy your film, love. I think I even teared up a bit at the end.” He admitted.

“I love you so much.“ Y/n kissed Cillian’s lips.

“On the topic of films, what about mine?” He teased.

“Okay, before I say anything about Oppenheimer, just know that I love you so so so much and you’re my best friend and the only love of my life apart from Alex of course.”

“Y/n. . . ”

“I haven’t seen Oppenheimer.”

#inbox <3 #anon #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy one shot #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy instagram au #barbenheimer

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boiohboii · 9 months

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Am I a yn fan or a cillian fan?

(Fem!driver!reader x cillian murphy)

N.B: just a little something for fun cause I'm in love with cillian murphy, hope you like it!! WARNING: not proof read, the word cunt, if I missed anything else please let me know!

Faceclaim: Angelina Jolie

masterlist

Liked mercedesamgf1, danielricciardo, murphy-lnchild and 2,618,910 others

Audifomrula1: congratulations to our Royal couple, our lovely driver yn ln won her first World championship with us this year, making it her fourth while her husband, cillian murphy, had his movie premiere starring in a, yet another, Christopher Nolan film.

username: while her husband 😂😂

username: she's barbie and he's just ken vibes

username: SIR, PUT THAT TONGUE BACK WHERE IT CAME FROM!!

username: the hair, the neckline, the gloves... yn please step on me

username: yn looks like a princess

Susiewolff: congratulations to both of you!

Sebastianvettel: very happy for you both!! You deserve it

username: susie and seb commenting even tho neither of yn nor cillian have instagram is such a wholesome thing

username: this entire friend group gives me life

Susiewolff has added to her story

Caption: back to our vacation house with our favorite people

Tagged: @.sebastianvettel

part 2

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy social media au #diver!reader #x driver reader #f1 driver reader

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justrainandcoffee · 1 month

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2017

"Like the old days" Alfie had said.

Meaning of "Let's do a road trip together. No GPS, no smartphones. Just maps, a compass and a camera to take pictures."

Tommy knew it was a bad idea. But...

They were in America. Their first trip together as a couple. Travelling in a rental car around the country didn't sound that bad at the beginning.

Alfie was driving because according to him, Tommy drove like a granny.

The first days were the best. It was autumn but the sun was still warm. They stopped in several places, enjoyed the landscapes and the mutual company. Very new relationship, their love was still pure.

Problems started the sixth day.

"Why don't you admit that you don't know how to read a map, sweetheart?"

Tommy frowned. "I always said that I don't know how to read a map, Alfie. You were very positive that I was going to learn soon."

Alfie pulled over and looked at his boyfriend "yes, well my bad. And now where are fucking lost."

"Because you didn't want to bring a GPS."

"No. They're annoying. Turn left, turn right... Fuck off."

"The best we can do it's to wait until a car pass and ask for help," Tommy said "Any ideas what to do in the meantime?"

Alfie smirked before kissing him, "Yeah. A few."

Alfie x Tommy masterlist.

#alfie solomons #tommy Shelby #moodboard #peaky blinders #modern au #tofie #Alfie x Tommy #sholomons #tommy x alfie #cillian murphy #tom hardy

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your-nanas-house · 2 months

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Unwanted lust: drabble (series 'My Dads Friend') ˢᵐᵘᵗ

Her bare thigh rested on his torso, her tiny shorts covering barely her cunt which was still hidden by a... soft silky thong.

He could reach her so easily, his hand could have traveled down from the position where it was resting... massaging small circles on her lower back, down to her ass. He could have grabbed her flesh there and knead a bit, making her wetter thanks to his touch and then... then his thick fingers could run across her folds, he could have moved the fabric so easily and touched her entrance with the tip of his fingers.

He could roll on a side carefully as not to wake her up and... lower his pajamas pants, freeing his erection without issues since he wasn't wearing any underwear. His cock would have pressed perfectly on her little pussy... probably on her clint first and then, with a little thrust and a help, his tip would have entered in heaven.

But he couldn't... no, he couldn't.

He needed to focus his mind elsewhere and stop thinking at his best friend's daughter like that.

#cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy drabble #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy smut #cillian fic #cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #cillian x fem!reader #My Dads Friend series #My Dads Friend #My Dads Friend AU

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weirdworldofwinnie · 9 months

Text

Heat of the Moment - One Night Passion

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

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

Word Count: 3,830

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Of course I have."

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

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

"Five, maybe six? I feel finnee."

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

"What are you…?"

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

"Could you carry me to the bathroom?"

"I can't - What? Why?"

"I might be sick."

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

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

"What is it?"

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

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

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

"Are you?"

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

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

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

"Don't tell Jean about this."

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

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

"She… She'll figure it out, right?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"As in Julius Caesar?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How old are you?"

"I - Is that important?"

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

"Yes, I'm over 21."

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

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

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

"T-Two."

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

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

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

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

"Oh, I won't."

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

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

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

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

"W-Why?"

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

"Do you… like it?"

"Yes, of course, but-"

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

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

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

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

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

"Cold?" Robert asked softly, noticing.

"Mm-hmm."

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

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

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

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

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

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