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ilovetoxicfictionalmen · 7 months

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Female Company

Pairing - Shivering Soldier Dunkirk x fem!reader

Summary - You decide to give the shivering soldier some company in hopes to make him feel better, you do indeed.

Warnings - dubcon, handjob, blow job, rough.

Word count - 1.8k

Notes - Shivering soldier Cillian is underrated, also difficult to write so sorry if horrible writing as this felt rushed.

“Perhaps some female company would make him feel better” Peter, your brother suggested. All six eyes turned onto you, making your heart skip a beat. “Feel less intimidated and what not” Peter added.

Since you had saved the shivering soldier from the shipwreck, he had been at mute, refusing to show any signs of communication with anyone. He was down below deck, getting warm and hopefully to become more comfortable around these friendly strangers.

It was risky, you weren’t even really allowed on the Moonstone anyways. But you wanted to help, your father raised you properly, you were a qualified nurse for the army, you were here to help.

“I’m sure I can be good enough company” George interjected. George didn’t like it, the thought of you being alone down there with the shivering soldier, but that was more out of jealousy than obligation.

Mr Dawson shook his head towards George, then looked towards you. “I’m sure you’ll be able to make him feel comfortable enough sweetheart” your father gave you a pure smile. “And, God forbid if anything were to happen, we are all right here” Mr Dawson ached, raising his hands slightly at the thought of something bad occurring.

But your father trusted you, you were a good person who followed pure morals. All your life you’ve helped others, what’s one more soldier to the list? George gave an iffy look but decided to remain silent, looking out the ocean with his fists forming under his sleeves.

The small door creaked open as you stepped inside. “Hello?” You whispered as you lowered down the small ladder, you closed the small door behind you.

The shivering soldier was lying on the small, uncomfortable ship bed, a blanket wrapped around his cold body. His eyes were closed but you could tell he was awake. Slowly peeking open, the soldier stared you up and down. The soldier repositioned himself, sitting up on the thin mattress. You sat down next to him, the room was swaying in motion with the waves outside.

Sitting in silence for a while, you decided to break it. “Is there anything I can do for you? Water? More blankets?” You asked politely.

There were already such limited services you could provide for him, being on such a small boat and all. You were used to being able to help people, especially in these desperate times, but right now you feel hopeless.

After a short beat, the soldier mumbled his reply, “I’m okay, thank you”. You tried to read his expression, coming to the harsh thoughts that he didn’t seem to be amused to have you down here with him, that he just wanted to be alone after all, that you were intruding.

He was beautiful, despite his worn out expression and dirty, wet appearance. There were dark bags around his ocean blue eyes, and a couple of scratches over his face. You felt horrible for him, it was unimaginable what trauma the war can cause upon a man. No one would ever understand how terrifying and ruining his mind had become over this short time.

“Are you certain?” You checked, you’d hate that he would decline your help by either being too afraid or polite. There was no response from him. “Perhaps if you took off your jacket you could warm up faster” you suggested harmlessly, the soldier looked at you, his mouth was ajar open and eyes dark.

War tested men’s temptations, it demonstrated how much they really depended on a woman's touch. Men needed something to feel good about in these horrible days, their urges took over their logistics if no one was there to keep them in line. And right now you were defenceless in the beast’s cage, and he was off his chain.

In his defence, you were asking for it. Why else would you ask such a thing twice and then practically beg him to strip? The soldier quickly leant in and kissed you hungrily, his arms snaked around your body to keep you still. You were frozen, not sure how to react to his assault, his tongue slipped down your throat, hands gripping against your lower back as if life depended on it. His left hand moved to your breasts and kneaded them dispairly.

You’ve been kissed before, only once, but it was nothing compared to this, never so passionate and amorous.

A moan struggled to break out of your combined lips. Swiftly, he picked up your body and laid you onto your back, not as gently as you could hope, your hand reached for the ache stinging from the back of your head.

“Be a good little girl, and stay quiet, hm?” He ordered, his hand tapping your cheek to flatter you.

What else were you meant to do? Call out for help? Start a domestic between an old man, two kids and a war soldier? Even if you did so, what would happen afterwards, you’re on a boat deeply within the ocean.

The soldier felt your body with his rough hands, he was desperate to feel any touch, but too impatient to take it slow. Unbuttoning your shirt roughly, you were lucky that he didn’t rip off the buttons. The shape and look of your breasts made him believe he was already in heaven. When was the last time he’s felt a woman’s touch? How many countless nights of him dreaming for intimate touch? His mouth landed on your right breast first, then the left.

There wasn’t enough time, to properly feel you, to worship your body, to come over and over again. Your bodies felt the friction of the waves rocking yourselves back and forwards. Head in the palms of his hands, the soldier's hips were humping against yours, your legs wrapped around his small waist, he was groaning lowly, unable to contain himself, kissing your neck and side of your face.

Lying stiff underneath him, you couldn’t help but to moan back quietly, the fabrics between your bodies was too thick to feel the sensations fully, but this is the most touching of a man you’ve ever felt before, your back arched on the mattress.

“The fuck are you wearing pants for?” The soldier muttered, slapping the side of your thigh harshly. “How am I meant to fuck you without getting caught, aye?” He spat by your ear.

A lot of people still considered it taboo for women to wear pants, it took away femininity, and in this case, the easy access.

“M’sorry” you whimpered back underneath him, cheeks all flustered from the embarrassment and overwhelming situation.

“Guess you’re just going to have to put that mouth to better use” he sighed and sat up, he pulled you down to the ground, you landed on your knees. Repositioning you to be directly in front of him, he flexed his hips towards you. “Do you know how to suck cock?” He asked smugly.

“N-no” you whispered.

“Ever please a man at all before?” His eyebrow was cocked to you.

“No sir” you replied and he chuckled.

“That’s sweet, I’ll be quick anyways” he said with another tap to your cheek.

He gestured for you to put your hands onto his crotch, you could see the bulge through his damp pants but you didn’t expect it to feel so solid. It was like playing with a knick-knack, your hands travelled all around it, feeling its shape and size.

“Uh, alright, pull it out now, love” he purred, hand caressing the sides of your head with his eyes closed.

Your stomach turned at the way he called you love, you didn’t realise how badly you craved that validation. There was this undying small innocent smile on your lips, he looked down to you and gave you a smug smile back and a gentle pat on the cheek.

With shaking hands, you undid his belt and tugged down at his trousers. The soldier ended up helping you, not out of kindness, only restlessness. You gasped as he pulled out his cock, you didn’t realise it could be so – big. The soldier's cock was hairy as the base, had a couple of veins popping out at his length and had a pretty pink tip. If you knew any better about sex, you’d say that he’s already about to burst.

It was like natural instincts, he didn’t have to say anything, you automatically took his length in both hands, staring from the base and working your way up. He groaned and his head fell back, hands in your hair as you slowly worked your hands up and down his length. In another reality, he would have loved to have you take your time, worshipping his cock.

“Okay, sweetheart, I need your mouth around me right now” he hissed, leaning his upper body forward easily to push your head towards his member with his hands.

You pushed against him, your lips an inch away from his tip, okay, this was getting frightening now. The realisation of what you were doing below deck, could be interrupted at any moment, freaked you out. But that didn’t stop him, he pulled harder, making you yelp and your mouth pressed against his member. But you refused to open up for him, he rubbed your mouth and nose around his firm length, your hands pressed against his upper legs in an attempt to push free but it was pointless, you were whining.

“Fucking open up, you dumb whore” he spat, you mewled quietly, too afraid to catch anyone’s attention on deck. Reluctantly, you slowly opened your mouth and he slipped his tip in. “Ah, fuck” he muttered, the rocking of the boat, thrusted him deeper in and out of your mouth. He had no shame in swearing, muttering and whining underneath his breath, his balls already tightening. “Christ, I’m not going to fucking last-” he was breathless, eyes almost rolling back.

Forcing your mouth right down to his base, your cries were blocked by his size. There was no space to breathe, your jaw was aching and you were gagging. With how wide your mouth was, you were afraid that your jaw would lock, it was aching, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat over and over again. Tears were running down your cheeks as he was groaning under his breath, eyes squeezed shut, nostrils flaring and jaw clenched.

Without a warning, he bursted right down your mouth, his legs shaking slightly, hands tightened around your hair. The soldier bit on his lower lip to silence his moan of pleasure as his cock was spurting out straight into your throat.

It tasted salty and bitter, your face scrunched up at the taste, but he didn’t pull out his member until you swallowed it all, it was difficult to swallow with his cock covering the entirety of your mouth. Slowly slipping himself out, he tucked himself back into his trousers and ran his hand through his hair.

Tears were slowly running down your cheeks, you felt your aching jaw softly and sniffled, the soldier pulled you up onto the bed and wiped your face clean with his bare hand. He sighed, looking you up and down. Giving you one last kiss, he murmured to you, “thanks for the company”.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #dunkirk #dunkirk 2017 #dunkirk movie #shivering soldier #shivering soldier x reader

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shiveringsoldier · 10 months

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I wrote an 1100-word review/essay about Dunkirk (2017) on a whim. Please enjoy.

-All we did is survive.

-That’s enough.

I don’t know if I can truly articulate just how much I adore this film, but I’ll try.

I’ll start with the tone. The tension is palpable from the first frame to the last. Even in the seemingly calm moments, the unease remains. Something seems off, or you sense the possibility that at any moment things can go horribly wrong. One can only sustain a suspenseful tone for so long, and Dunkirk is the perfect length for it.

The score and sound design do a lot to maintain that tone. The first two or three times I saw this film, I quite literally jumped at the first round of gunfire. The scream of the Stukas is terrifying, and the screams of soldiers under attack are jarring. Even when things are quiet, sound is a dead giveaway for things to come, whether it’s the barely perceptible rustle of an oncoming torpedo or trickles of water escalating to a flooded ship. The score is more about mood than melody. The use of tritones and the Shepard tone illusion add to the unease and tension, and the momentary triumph in the score as the little ships arrive feels so incredibly earned. This even continues through the end credits, with the score beginning with the more triumphant music and ending with Shivering Soldier’s leitmotif.

The cinematography is immaculate, from the aerial shots to the close-ups to the lighting to the blue and yellow color palette. I like the different timelines and the way they all come together for the climax and resolution. Everyone in the cast delivers a top-notch performance. And the minimal dialogue is so realistic. I love that there are no eloquent speeches or monologues. I love that we hear Churchill’s speech not through Churchill’s mouth but through a monotone reading from an exhausted Tommy. Collins and Farrier only communicate in compliance with RAF protocol. The communication among Tommy, Gibson, and Alex is largely nonverbal, mostly through glances and nods. The most verbal characters (Mr. Dawson, Peter, and George) are the ones who have known each other the longest. The first time I watched Dunkirk, I don’t think I noticed that Gibson hadn’t said anything until Alex pointed it out, but I guess that goes to show the effectiveness of the minimal dialogue.

A common criticism of the film, at least in 2017, is that the characters are poorly defined. I have never shared that issue. Despite the lack of extensive backstory – and, in some cases, the lack of names – for everyone except the Dawsons and George, I found myself deeply invested in every character the first time I saw this film back in July 2017, and I have found myself becoming even more invested over time. One video essay I saw says the characters in the film are defined by their actions, and I think that’s a very accurate assessment. We see that Gibson is resourceful. Collins is not as experienced as Farrier. Farrier’s stoic veneer occasionally cracks. Shivering Soldier appears to have been confident and practical prior to his traumatic event. Commander Bolton is calm and authoritative. Colonel Winnant keeps his composure despite his growing stress and despair. Tommy is aware of his surroundings. Alex is prone to paranoia and low self-esteem. Plus every character is driven by the inherently human need to survive and/or to help others. All of this is more than enough to get me invested.

Speaking of help, this film is filled with small but impactful moments of kindness. Tommy helps Gibson bury a body, and Gibson offers him water once the deed is done. Civilians offer food, tea, blankets, life jackets, and words of encouragement to weary soldiers. Soldiers treat dead bodies floating in the water with deference. Collins greets Peter with “Afternoon” after Peter rescues him. Mr. Dawson’s first action after rescuing Shivering Soldier is to ask him his name. Peter later lies to that same soldier to protect his feelings. No one can do anything to make this horrible situation go away, but everyone does what little they can to make the situation a little more bearable.

And I would be remiss if I didn’t talk at some length about Shivering Soldier, my favorite character from this film and one of my favorite characters period. He had my heart from the moment I saw him crouched atop the hull of the sunken ship, and my love for him has only grown over time. He doesn’t get a name, but he does get his own track in the score. We have only a vague idea of the trauma he’s experienced, but the flashback scene tells us it must have been something truly horrific. I’ve heard a couple of people say they didn’t even realize it was the same character at first. It is horrifying to think about his journey from escape to near death to rescue only to be forced to return to the hell from which he so desperately needs to escape. And as someone who survived multiple traumatic events in a span of about 13 months, I find myself relating almost uncomfortably to him.

I can’t speak highly enough about Cillian Murphy’s performance. He may not have terribly many lines, but he tells you everything with his eyes and his body language and the way he retreats into himself and recoils at the slightest provocation. I love that his panic builds up gradually rather than all at once. You know that it’s only a matter of time before he reaches his breaking point, and there’s nothing you can do but watch. And despite his inadvertent killing of George, I adore how sympathetic the film is to him. Mr. Dawson is so kind to him and tells George (and the audience by extension) that the soldier is traumatized, not cowardly. When Peter lies to the soldier and says George will be okay, Mr. Dawson nods approvingly. And when Mr. Dawson notices him trembling after the last-ditch Stuka attack, he helps him up and gives him a comforting pat on the shoulder. I don’t know, it’s just refreshing and comforting to see a traumatized character portrayed with such humanity and treated with such compassion.

This film is about a catastrophic defeat and people trapped in this hell when attempt after attempt to escape ends in disaster, but there is kindness to be found even in these horrible circumstances. And I just find that moving. And that’s why, despite the endless anxiety this film gives me, I consider it a comfort movie. I will never tire of it.

#Dunkirk #Dunkirk 2017 #.txt #*#dunkirkposting

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