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#why did you want this? what do you care about Murphy
ghouljams · 10 months
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I wish to hear more about Murphy the feed store guy who is apparently getting freaked out by König paying full price
Murphy is like 70 years old and owns the feed store. The store has a name but nobody uses it because the sign is so old and the paint is so worn that everyone just calls it by the owner's name. "Murphy's" easy. The only thing that's really of note about Murphy or the store is that Murphy loves to haggle.
See every item in the store is slapped with a hilariously high price tag, so high that any farmer with half a brain would look at it and go, "Now hold on, that don't look right to me." But this is Murphy's design. Everyone in town knows that if you go to the feed store you gotta be prepared to haggle, gotta be prepared to stick to your guns and not wilt under Murphy's overgrown catapillar brows and eager grin. It's Goose's favorite part of shopping, and the rest of the 141 find out on their first trip to Murphy's what is expected and why.
One man in town has not gotten the memo. One man is trying to be polite and just pay Murphy for his wares. One man is 7 feet tall and stares Murphy down in a way that makes his stomach churn when he tells him he is happy to pay full price.
"You're sure I can't interest you in a discount?" Murphy asks hesitantly. König tips his head forward looking at the neatly notated order list and the prices. He looks back at Murphy, eyes boring holes into him, expression unreadable behind the bandana mask.
"Nein, I am sure you are asking what is fair." Murphy feels his stomach drop, is this guy trying to intimidate him? Is he trying to say something about his pricing practices? Murphy dabs his forehead with a handkerchief.
"You're a loyal customer, a discount would be-" König holds up a hand to stop him.
"You are very kind, but I am sure you need the money more than I do." Jesus christ. Murphy is starting to sweat. Is this guy trying to say the store is in disrepair? That he thinks business is bad?
"Hey buddy, you a fuckin' moron or what?" Moon asks behind König. Murphy sweats more watching König turn to face her. His eyes sweeping high and then tipping his head down to look at her. König's eyes narrow.
"Ah, hello sister." König says pleasantly, Moon stares up at him with all the patience of a woman parked next to a fire hydrant, "I did not know nuns were allowed to swear."
Murphy tries to motion for Moon to absolutely not respond to that. She blows a bubble with her gum and snaps it at König. "I'll say a Hail Mary later," she tells him, "Who are you supposed to be? Zorro?"
Murphy says a quick prayer: please dear God do not let your disciple start another fight in his store, not with this giant man.
"König, and you are?" The giant asks, tipping his head to the side, his fingers twitching too close to his holster for Murphy's liking.
"You like moonshine König?" Moon pulls a flip phone from her pocket, ignoring König's question.
"I do not know what that is."
"Fantastic." Murphy motions again, desperately, for Moon to maybe stop with the sales pitch. Just for his own health. König turns to look at him mid gesture.
"This is very rude," he tells him, mimicking the gestures Murphy had made, "we are trying to have a conversation."
"Of course," Murphy tells him, holding his hands up placatingly, "don't mind me." König nods, Moon raises a brow at Murphy. It's weird seeing him like this, he's usually so commanding. She looks up at König who is waiting patiently for her to continue their conversation.
Oh she is going to upcharge the hell out of this dumbass.
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mypoisonedvine · 7 months
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𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 | boyfriend's dad!cillian murphy x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | for some reason, your first instinct after the breakup was to talk to his parents; maybe because you'd come sort of uniquely close to them, for a relatively short relationship. you might not have gone to their house if you'd known you'd find mr. murphy there alone...
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ ONLY!! unprotected sex, creampie, oral m and f receiving), age gap (reader's age unspecified, cillian is 45+), hurt/comfort (but, you know, sexual comfort), infidelity, slight manipulation/coercion since the reader is very vulnerable at the time, somewhat inexperienced reader, degradation and praise, a little bit of breathplay, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia?, reader is slightly implied to be an immigrant/foreigner
note: yes I use his real name but this is just fiction and not meant to have anything to do with the real cillian murphy or his life/family so please keep that in mind!
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He had a smile on his face as he opened the door and greeted you, but it fell instantly when he saw you biting down on your quivering lip, looking down to hide how red and watery your eyes were.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, voice heavy with concern as he reached out and rubbed your shoulder. "Oh, god— come in, come in— what's going on?"
He ushered you into the house, shutting the door behind you and wrapping his arm around you as you sniffled. "I-I'm sorry—" you began instantly.  “I thought— I don’t know why I even came here…”
But, actually, you sort of did.  You’d been wanting to talk to Cillian’s wife, hoping for some motherly advice, until he answered the door and you abruptly remembered she was in England on business for a week or something.  And you couldn’t exactly show up on somebody’s doorstep crying and say ‘oh, sorry, I thought your wife would be home— I’ll come back in a few days’.
You weren’t disappointed by running into him instead, really, you just felt a little weirder about it.  The two of you had never actually been alone before.
"Don't apologise," he soothed, "it's okay, just tell me what's happened. Are you alright?"
"Yeah," you sighed, trying to compose yourself a bit as he guided you to sit on the couch with him. "Yeah, I'm okay, I just... um, well, it's sort of stupid—"
"I'm sure it's not," he offered with a small laugh, "if it's got you this worked up."
"We, um... I think we broke up?"
"What?" he breathed, knitting his eyebrows together— he cared more than you expected... but it sort of made sense, Mr. Murphy had always made you feel welcome here. Mrs. Murphy too, maybe ina different way. Yes, it's bizarre to respond to being dumped by going to visit the guy's parents, you needed a sort of... mature, familial presence right now while you were so far from your own.
You took him through the whole drama as efficiently as possible, trying to regulate your crying so he could actually attempt to make out what you were saying. He listened thoughtfully, perhaps with too much attention compared to what you expected— after all, this was stupid college drama and he was so much more mature than all that. Still, you appreciated a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.
"And, uh, that's how he ended it," you finished with a sigh, sniffling as you recalled the heartbreaking conversation. "He basically told me that he's too young to be stuck with one person, and he needs to 'explore his options'..."
"Then he's an idiot," Cillian groaned, "and I hate to say that about my own son— but he's a fuckin' idiot."
"Well," you mumbled, "I don't know— I thought maybe he had a point. I mean, we're pretty young..."
"But look at you, honey," he offered pityingly, "you can't tell me this is what you wanted."
"No, but—"
"And yes, you're young," he added, "but not too young— not if it's real."
You bit your lip to stop it from shaking any more, and he cooed at you gently as he reached up to rub your shoulder.  
“Poor girl,” he breathed.  “Honestly, I always… well, maybe I shouldn’t say it now…”
You looked up at him expectantly, and he smiled nervously as he glanced away.
“Well… I guess I always thought that you could do better,” he admitted with a soft laugh, “but, you know, I didn’t want to say anything, of course.  He was lucky to have you, and I just hoped he would treat you right, but…”
“I thought I was the lucky one,” you replied with a thin smile and another little sniffle.  “He could be really sweet, you know— he used to be.  And I always thought he was, uh, sort of… you know, out of my league.”
“Oh, honey, no,” Cillian frowned, moving his hand up to your face and holding your cheek, wiping a small tear away with his thumb.  “You’re gorgeous.”
You laughed awkwardly, not sure what to think— or how to think— with him looking at you like that.  “I… I don’t know, you’re sweet, but—”
“No, really,” he assured, and only when you met his gaze did you realise how close he was.  You wouldn’t call it too close, only because it didn’t bother you like you knew it should.  “You’re so beautiful.”
You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing actually came out… there was nothing to say.  He was coming closer, you knew it, and you wanted to reach up to stop him just as much as you wanted to shut your eyes and give into it.  You ended up sort of splitting the difference: you rested your hands on his shoulders, but didn’t push him away, and gasped slightly just before he kissed you.  Even a second of resistance could’ve given you some plausible deniability, but no, you fluttered your eyes shut and kissed him back; it didn’t help that you could feel how warm and strong he was through the t-shirt, holding on tighter to his shoulders with a hum.
His hands wandered to your waist, pulling you into him— and you were like putty, embarrassingly enough. With him kissing you like that, you really couldn’t do anything but let him pull you around wherever he wanted.  His lips were soft and gentle, his tongue teased you so carefully, and he even sighed against your skin in the sweetest way… you were totally helpless already.  
Sure, some part of you knew how fucking bizarre this was— that you were kissing Mr. Murphy, your boyfriend’s dad— well… ex-boyfriend’s.  You weren’t blind, you noticed how attractive he was when you met him, but you’d managed to successfully ignore it since then.  It made sense, after all, since the first thing you’d noticed about your boyfriend was his good looks… but Mr. Murphy was handsome in a totally different way.  Strong and broad— not especially massive or anything, still a lean guy— with thin streaks of grey in his hair, a patient sort of smile, subtle wrinkles around his eyes that added a sense of wisdom to his expression… really, he was a bit more of your type.  But that was something you had forced yourself not to acknowledge— until now.
You sat up slightly, holding onto his neck, breathing in sharply through your nose as you kissed him back a little harder.  You could feel him smiling— god, even just that made you feel so desperate— and he even moaned ever-so-quietly when you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathed against your lips, breaking away just enough to make you open your eyes— his lashes seemed especially long as he looked down at your legs curled up on the couch (and his hands petting them slowly.  “You haven’t been treated properly for a long time, have you?”
You whined in the back of your throat involuntarily as you nodded— how could he see right through you like that?  It wasn’t like it was bad with your ex, it was just… not good.  Not enough.  You wanted to feel wanted, not used— not a means to an end.
“Will you let me?” he asked softly, breathing beside your ear on his way in to kiss your neck.  You gasped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close, head falling back to give him as much of you as he wanted.  His tongue was fucking fiendish, the way he used it to tickle along your pulse, the sharpness of his teeth making you jolt only for him to soothe you with his plush lips.
“Yes,” you panted, “fuck— I, god, I can’t believe we’re doing this…”
He laughed a little.  “I can,” he admitted.  “All I could fucking think about since I met you…”
That surprised you— you’d never noticed anything that would’ve made you think he thought of you that way… but knowing that he, apparently, had made a shiver run up your spine.
He certainly hid it well, playing the part of the slightly-embarrassing dad and polite husband so well that you never would’ve known… oh god, his wife.  You didn’t want to think of her now, yet the unavoidable memory stirred arousal alongside guilt in your gut.  You had no idea you were this sort of person— but you weren’t really operating logically right now, anyway.
He held your face again as he pulled back, petting your cheek— it made you feel especially juvenile when he did that, holding your chin to examine you.  This wasn’t really the ideal state for you to be looked at, in your opinion, with you having been crying all evening.  But he looked amazed by you, even if it was just for a moment before he looked down at your body and smirked.
“Take this off,” he instructed, tugging at your shirt slightly.  You thought it would’ve been a little more romantic if he helped you out of it, but it was alternatively a bit sexier that he was just going to sit back and watch you strip for him.  It must have been his way of demonstrating his power over you, that you were just going to take it off and toss it aside without question.  Which, of course, you did.
He smiled proudly at the sight, and before you could even get your bra off, he started to carefully tease you through it— fingers running around the edge, moving the straps off your shoulders, tickling up your sides as you shifted nervously on the couch.  
“Look’t that,” he whispered proudly, and you took a second to realise that he was referring to your nipples getting hard enough to poke visibly through the fabric; you felt self-conscious all of a sudden, even if he was clearly enjoying what he was seeing.  “So needy, huh?”
“Y-yeah,” you admitted, whining when he reached inside the cups and ran his fingers over your breasts— they usually weren’t so sensitive.  “Fuck,” you breathed, shutting your eyes as a way to try to escape his gaze.  “I… I need you.”
“Fuck, baby, don’t talk like that,” he groaned, “m’gonna try to take my time with you— how am I supposed to do that if you say such lovely things?”
His lips were on your neck again— and he was leaning you back, laying you down under him, tugging your shorts down with a bit more urgency than he’d had before.
When you were basically naked— or at least, your bra and panties pushed out of the way enough that he could see what he needed to— he purred at the sight, grinning as you hastily undressed yourself the rest of the way.  
"Of course he couldn't appreciate this," Cillian sighed, baring his teeth just a bit. "Of course he couldn't appreciate a perfect fucking body like this— a perfect little pussy like this..."
You were about to open your mouth to say something, though you hadn't even decided yet what it would be, but only a low moan came out when he held your legs open and dove between them, humming as he lapped at your clit. You couldn't imagine why you were so sensitive, but your whole body was shaking already just from the gentlest motions of his tongue...
"Fuck," he said, muffled against your skin, before he pulled back enough to bite playfully on your thigh. "Fuck, darling, you taste delicious. Christ. You're too perfect..."
He devoured you again, exploring all over you with his tongue as your thighs kept instinctively clamping down on his head. He kept looking up at you through it all, even when you couldn't stand to meet his gaze and had to arch your back from the pleasure. "Fuck!" you yelped, grabbing tightly onto his hair. "Fuck, Mr. Murphy, I— oh, god..."
"He never made you come like this, did he?" Cillian realised with a groan, nearly growling when you shook your head. "Has anyone?"
"N-no," you shakily admitted, and he moaned around you as he suckled harder on your clit for a moment until you whined loudly.
"Oh, poor thing," he cooed, "how could anyone taste this sweet cunt of yours, and not want to spend hours between your legs?"
He didn’t need to spend hours, though— the taboo nature of the situation seemed to turn your body into overdrive, making you so sensitive and desperate… or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, but it was hard to say.
The point is, all too soon, you were shivering under him, back arching up off the couch, holding on tightly to his hair.  He hummed approvingly, even moaning against you as he slid his tongue inside; he must have been able to feel you pulsing, moving closer and closer to the edge, because he shut his eyes tight and seemed to focus harder and pushing you further until you couldn’t take anymore.
“Fuck, fuck!” you sobbed, thighs shaking around his head; there really was no exploration to it, no teasing, he just went right in and expertly played you like he’d done this a thousand times.  Maybe he had… but, obviously, he’d never done it to you.  Were you that easy to solve?
Obviously, that question suddenly became the last thing on your mind as your orgasm wracked through you.  He growled encouragingly, still keeping his pace, but you could barely hear it past the ringing in your ears— and your own cries of his name, of course.
He only broke away when your squirms turned into real avoidance: you could only take so much, especially with him suckling on your clit like that.
You were almost nervous to open your eyes again— and you were right, he looked so gorgeous between your legs, obviously smug with having just made you come, it was nearly criminal.
“Is it really that easy to make you come, honey?” he laughed, petting your legs sweetly as he pulled back, looking up at you with a proud grin.  “That’s so fucking cute, baby…”
As he sat up again, wiping the slick off his mouth with the back of his hand, you got this weird, clingy feeling— wanting to chase him even just as he barely moved away.  
But he’d sat up for a reason, and you started to realise it when you sat up, too, and noticed the thick bulge in his jeans.
"Why don't you show me what you can do, sweetheart?" he encouraged with a smile, opening his belt for you. "I'm sure you've learned a thing or two..."
Though you still felt terribly nervous about it, you leaned forward towards his lap. Would it be awful to admit your mouth watered when he freed his cock from his jeans and boxers, holding it out for you as a little bead of precum formed at the tip?
"Show me, baby," he whispered again, "and look up at me."
You nervously blinked up at him, meeting his gaze from his lap, as you wrapped your lips around his swollen head. He bit his lip right away and reached up to hold onto your hair, groaning as you swirled your tongue.
"Fuck," he smirked, "you're sort of a tease, aren't you?"
You weren't trying to be, really, but it didn't sound like he minded too much...
"Oh, fuck," he moaned deeply, making you pulse inside as he tilted his head back. "Fuck, baby, that's good— your mouth is so fucking warm..."
He gasped and panted as he held your head, guiding it to bob just a little faster than you had been moving. "Sweetheart," he choked, "you're so fucking good... fuck!"
The praise made your chest fill with warmth, even if there was still some part of your brain that was recovered enough from the orgasm to remember how horrible this all was.  It was horrible, but perfect— and feeling his cock throb against your tongue was perfect, too.
You’d never been told you were so good at this before, but he kept moaning and petting your head encouragingly, whispering the most wonderful and filthy things.  “Just like that, honey,” he cooed, “mm— pretty thing… knew that mouth of yours would feel so fuckin’ good… just keep sucking my cock, sweetheart.”
That you did— harder and faster, stroking what your mouth couldn’t fit, moaning softly around him.  As you tried to take it deeper, desperate to please him, you gagged on his thick head.
“God, it’s so cute when you choke on it, baby,” he chuckled.  “Do it again.”
This time it was almost too much, but he held your head down and groaned deeply.  It would’ve bothered you more— not being able to breathe— if he didn’t sound so sexy right then…
Thankfully, he pulled you off just in time, making you yelp as he held you by your hair— only to kiss you hard, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.  Moaning, you melted into his arms, and let him guide you to straddle his lap.  Feeling his jeans against your thighs and his shirt against your chest made your heart skip.
He took another long look at you when he broke away, a new darkness in his bright eyes.
“You’re so sexy,” he laughed softly, running his hands over your nude form and raising a brow as he watched goosebumps break out over your skin.  “God, I need to be inside you…”
You bit down on your lip but it didn’t do much to suppress your whimper; lifting yourself up a bit, you grasped his cock and slid it through your folds, guiding him to your entrance.  
You both gasped when he slipped inside, even when it was the slightest penetration— his whole head wasn’t in yet, and you just knew it would stretch you more than you were used to.
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned loudly, tilting his head back, “you’re so wet, sweetheart…”
Lowering yourself, you took in a shaky breath, whining slightly as he opened you up one inch at a time... and each one seemed somehow thicker than the last. His fingers seemed to dig deeper into the skin at your hips and ass the lower that you sank onto him.
You could barely believe that you took it all; that you relaxed into his lap fully even when you feared being split in half by how thick he was.  “Oh my god,” you blurted out, operating on instinct as you started to move— grinding back and forth, desperate for friction despite having been satisfied by his incredible mouth just a few minutes ago.
"Fuck, there you go," he encouraged with a growl, looking down at your hips rocking in his lap. "Ride me, just like that— fuck, ride my cock, little fuckin' whore..."
You whimpered at the insult, holding tighter onto his shoulders, but it only made you move faster. "S-so... so deep, Mr. Murphy," you whimpered.
"Yeah? You can take it," he promised darkly, holding tighter onto your waist as he dropped his head back with a low groan. "God, you're tight— fuck."
You gasped as he bucked his hips up, creating more pressure against your over-sensitive clit. "Oh, fuck," you breathed, struggling to cope with all the sensations he was giving you.
Both of you settled on the right pace, and he switched between resting his head back against the couch (giving you a nice view of his gorgeous neck, how could just a neck be so sexy?!) and looking down to watch you go.  “So fuckin’ cute,” he praised— though you were sort of surprised to hear him describe you that way at a time like this.  “So needy, honey… you want more, don’t you?  You wanna go even faster.”
Now that he said it: yeah, you did.  You bounced up and down, your moans coming out all shaky and uneven because of the movement, and he grinned proudly.
His hands wandered up from your waist to your chest, groping you eagerly as you gasped out his name in response.  “Love these tits of yours,” he informed you, sounding oddly sweet for how dirty of a compliment it was.  “Took everything in me not to stare at them when you’d come over for dinner… see what you do to me, sweetheart?  Haven’t felt this desperate since I was your age.”
Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing, reminding you of how much older he was at a time like this.  He purred when he felt you clench on him, obviously affected by the comment.
“Should’ve known you’d give in right away,” he went on, softening his voice to nearly a whisper as he watched you move with heavy eyes; you angled your hips back and moaned louder, his cock rubbing against just the right spot every time now.  “Hungry little thing like you— now I wish I hadn’t waited so long.  We could’ve been doing this the whole time… I could’ve shown you how much better it can be, when somebody really takes care of you.”
Whimpering, you felt another heady pang inside you— if he kept talking like that, you wouldn’t be able to keep your head on straight… then again, the fact that you were here proved that you were less stable than you thought.
“Faster, sweetheart,” he ordered again suddenly.  “I wanna see how desperate you can get.”
You furrowed your brows together, almost pouting, but did exactly what he wanted— you wondered if you looked as pathetic as you sounded, riding him recklessly, chasing another peak even when it took all of your strength in those shaking legs.
He grabbed you by the jaw and guided you into another desperate kiss— all teeth and tongue and low moans.  “Good fucking girl,” he snarled.  “Good little slut.”
“Fuck,” you panted, moving faster.  “Fuck, I’m close—”
“I know, honey,” he cooed, nodding as he moved his hand down to your neck.  “Show me how bad you need it, sweetheart.  Let me see it, I wanna see you come for me.”
Tossing your head back, you cried out his name again— why did you always do that when you came?— and felt it overtake you.  It was even heavier than the last one, even more numbing and draining, and you didn’t even notice how hard you were digging your nails into his shoulders.
When your body failed and you came to a shaky stop, he didn’t give you much time to catch your breath: he grabbed you tight, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, and began to buck his hips up into you quickly.
“Oh my god, oh my god!” you whined, overwhelmed by the feeling, holding onto him tightly just to have something to keep you grounded.
“Fuck, m’gonna come inside you,” he warned with a growl.  “Gonna fill you, baby, you’ll be so fuckin’ full of my come—”
You sobbed and buried your face in his neck, starting to cry again for a completely different reason than before.
“Tell me you want it,” he ordered, speaking roughly right against your ear.
“F-fuck, I want it,” you gasped, “I want you to come— fuck— come inside me—”
He choked out a few more swears, he held you tight enough that you started to imagine what his bruises would look like on you tomorrow, and with a low groan of your name, it all suddenly slowed to a stop.  You moaned weakly when you felt his cock flexing against your walls, even more heat pooling inside you.  With what little energy you had left, you softly kissed his neck— until he seemed to come back to reality and pushed you back enough to be face-to-face with you again.  
You realised suddenly that you were still sort of crying from the intensity of it all, and got nervous with him staring at you like that.  “I’m sorry,” you sniffled as you wiped your face.
“Don’t apologise,” he told you again, moving your hands away so he could look at you himself.  “Besides, you look even cuter when you cry.”
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billysgun · 4 months
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loyal
billy the kid x cowgirl!reader |requested!|during the fight against murphy, you find out you're pregnant with billys child, and now you see where his loyalties lie |
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you felt numb as you stared into the outhouse's seat that was swimming with your vomit like you did every morning while the gang went out and you were too sick to follow. but, you didn't let them know that.
because you aren't just sick, you're pregnant.
you know from the lack of blood in your bloomers -which would've been red 2 weeks ago, but it never came.
you think back to billy. the night where he drunkenly thrust in your with a raw cock. you both were whiskey-filled idiots and decided to fuck like you've been doing for months.
and now you're gonna have a baby.
and, in the middle of fighting the house. you're too sick to ride, can't stand the scent of gunpowder even when you used to soak in it, you have no chance of being here.
but billy? he isn't going to stop fighting for some mistake child.
you're on your own.
that night when they returned, billy snuck into your room and kissed up your neck
you tried to push the guilt aside and enjoy the feeling of his fingertips running up your thigh, your hormones begging for more touching but your morals drowning you in your shame
billy looked up at you right before he was gonna lay you on your bed, seeing the way your eyes were glossed over and brows twisted in not pleasure, but pain.
"darlin' whats wrong?" he immediately stopped as his eyes widened and hands cupped your face
"no, nothin' billy! don't worry" you quickly whispered, cursing at yourself as his worries grew
"is it the fight?" he asked, and you nodded, but he didn't seem satisfied
"nah, somethin' else in on your mind. you can tell me, love" he whispered, and you couldn't keep your tears in as they gently rolled down your cheeks as you whimpered a breath
"I'm pregnant, billy" you admitted and his eyes widened
"what?"
you let out another sob as he moved back from you
"I'm pregnant" you repeated and his fingers ran through his hair
"h-how long?"
"a little while-"
"before we joined this?" he asked and you quickly got defestive as you rose from the bed with furrowed brows
"no billy. not before" you sternly said and he turned away from you to hide his teary eyes
"why didn't you tell me- this is why you haven't been ridin' right? 'cuz you..." he paced around the room and you felt like a child who broke a vase as you stood with your head down
"I can't let you get hurt" he says walking up to you while grabbing your hands softly
"I can't let you get hurt, billy" you quickly add and he just shakes his head, your palm brings his face back to you
"this baby needs its father"
"not as much as it needs its mother, I'm not the kind of father a child wants" he whispered, tears brimming his eyes as you shook your head
"no, that's not true. they're so many rotten men out there, you're not one of them. you're loyal, and kind, and selfless-"
"I've killed people" he emphasizes and you just stare at him, backing up slowly once his eyes reveal the thing you worried most
"you're not leaving tunstall, are you?"
"...Y/n, I made a promise-" "what about this baby? you think fucking land is more important than a child you made?"
"I didn't fucking choose this!" he snaps and your eyes are wide as his words soak into both of you and he's quickly shaking his head as he moves toward you "I didn't mean that. I'm just sayin' I didn't-"
"what about me? you chose me first. what if I decide to stay and go with-"
"you're not doin' that. you're out of fighting." he sternly says but you just laugh
"I can't have you two gettin' hurt" he adds
"oh so now you care about the baby?" you ask, and he presses his lips together as you two are no longer talking and just fighting. with no response, you grab your shoes as you leave the cabin, leaving billy behind.
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part 2 is: here
an: BILLY WHY???? haha but, hi guys!! & thank you for requesting!! <33
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maysileeewrites · 5 months
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a helping hand - John Murphy x reader
Summary: „Why are you helping me? I’m the bad guy, in case you forgot.“ Set during 1 x 10 (I am become Death), based on this teaser.
warnings: mentions of blood + injuries, angst, Murphy being Murphy (yes, he does have a soft side in this, but that doesn’t mean that he’s not still a dick); please lmk if I forgot something! 
AN: I’m not quite sure whether anyone will still care for Murphy x reader in 2023, but I love my trash son so much, I just had to write something about him. Please let me know if you liked it! 
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You dip the bloodied cloth into the bucket filled with water, watching as the water slowly turns red. Your hands are bloody as well and there’s dried blood crested under your fingernails, but with all the sick teens around you needing medical attendance, you don’t have time to try to thoroughly wash your hands, so you just dip them into the water, grabbing a bar of soap, watching as the water turns an even deeper red. 
Blood. 
There’s just so much of it. 
You sigh, standing up again. There’s no time for dwelling on your thoughts, not when the whole first floor of the Dropship is full of sick, coughing teenagers that need your help. 
You go to Fox and Connor next, checking up on them. But apart from trying to clean them up - they’ve started coughing up blood as well - and getting them to drink some water, there isn’t much you can do to actually help them. You have no medicine, no painkillers - apart from Monty’s moonshine and considering that a painkiller really is a stretch in your opinion -, nothing. Only a few spare blankets you and Clarke gave out earlier, in order to help keep everyone warm. 
A sudden wave of anger and irritation at your helplessness when faced with this unknown, dangerous virus overcomes you and you clench your fists in frustration. You allow yourself a moment to try and bury that emotion deep inside - because being this emotionally overwhelmed, you won’t be any help to the others -, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. 
When you open your eyes again, they land on Murphy - who’s looking right back at you with his good eye, the other one is still swollen shut. 
You gulp, trying to swallow down the nervousness that is suddenly clawing its way up your throat. Murphy’s the one who brought the disease into the Camp. 
After being tortured by the grounders for days, you try to remind yourself. After being unceremoniously tossed out of Camp for a murder he didn’t commit. And while he’s definitely a rude asshole that can be a bit unpredictable at times - though you think more often than not he’s just lashing out when provoked, attacked, or in case of the whole Charlotte incident, wrongfully accused - you don’t think that he’s as bad as everyone makes him out to be. 
But maybe that’s just you being naive, always wanting to see the good in people. He did try to go after Charlotte, after all. Though, you think, that probably had more to do with him seeking justice - a twisted, self-righteous kind of justice, but still justice - than vengeance. 
You sigh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Whatever the deal with Murphy is - and whatever the reason for you to suddenly spend so much of your thoughts on him is - right now, it doesn’t matter. 
Right now the only thing that matters is that he’s sick and hurt and he needs someone to help him clean up his wounds and that’s exactly what you’re here for. 
So, you take a deep breath and square your shoulders, before walking over to him and dropping down in front of him. His blue-green eyes - the good one at least- meet yours for just a split second, but then he’s looking away again. You dip the cloth into the bucket of water - after helping Fox and Connor you’d gone out to get some fresh water - and reach out for him, but just when you’re about to touch him, he twists away from you. 
„What’re you doing?“, he says, his voice low, distrust and irritation evident in his expression. 
„Helping you“, you answer, gesturing to the wet cloth in your hands. „Someone needs to clean up your wounds, Murphy.“ 
He scoffs. „Yeah, right.“ 
You frown. „Look Murphy, just let me help you, please.“ 
He doesn’t say anything to that, doesn’t acknowledge your words with anything other than a raise of his eyebrows, but you decide to just take his lack of a verbal response as a good sign - or at least as a sign that he hopefully won’t refuse your help any further. 
You wet the cloth cloth again, before carefully reaching your hand out to him again. This time, he doesn’t twist away from you, so you gingerly touch his bloodied and scarred cheek with your fingertips, before carefully applying pressure with the cloth. 
All the while, Murphy looks at you, an undecipherable emotion in his blue-green eyes. The intensity of his gaze is distracting, and you swallow, trying to concentrate on cleaning up his wounds, trying to ignore the burning heat of his gaze. Though it’s impossible to really ignore it, with you two being so close that you can feel his warm breath ghosting over your skin, causing you to shiver. 
Something shifts in Murphy’s expression then - if you weren’t paying so much attention, you might’ve missed it, but as it is, you can see the bitter smirk that crosses his lips for an instant, before he bites down hard on his lips. 
Your eyes meet then. You swallow - you feel caught in his stare, unable to look at anything but him. 
„Why are you helping me?“, he asks you, his voice low and raspy and laced with something that almost sounds like desperation. „I’m the bad guy, in case you forgot.“ 
„Because you need help“, you say, underlining your words by lightly trailing your fingertips over the deep cut on his left cheek. „And because I want to understand you.“ It’s true - you do want to understand him. You want to know how he came to be who he is today, why on earth he set fire to a room on the Ark. 
And fuck. This - this is dangerous. 
That bitter smirk crosses his face again. „Oh, so you want to know why I’m such a jerk, why I told the Camp’s location to the grounders, is that it?“ 
„You were tortured“, you say softly, but Murphy only scoffs. 
„Yeah, I’m afraid that doesn’t count as an excuse“, he says, voice full of bitterness. 
„Wha-“, you start to say, but then you remember that you saw Bellamy talking to Murphy earlier. And yes, that would certainly explain Murphy’s comments about his being tortured not being an excuse for giving up your location. 
You sigh frustratedly. Of course you know that Bellamy only wants to protect everyone at Camp, but you also know him well enough to imagine him making some kind of petty remark how he wouldn’t have caved under torture, wouldn’t have given up the Camp’s location. 
Which - fuck that. Anyone would eventually cave under torture, even someone as strong-willed and fierce as Bellamy. 
Murphy’s hiss of pain when you accidentally linger too long on one of his cuts with your fingertips draws you out of your thoughts. „Sorry“ you say, biting your lip. 
Murphy just shrugs and suddenly you’re hit with the desperate urge to help him, even though you’re not quite sure if there even is anything you can do that could make his situation better - apart from cleaning up his wounds, which you already are doing. 
„I’m sorry for what happened to you“, you say then, looking at him. „That’s not - I can only imagine what you went through and I really am sorry that that happened to you.“ 
Murphy looks at you, confusion and irritation evident in his expression. 
„And I know that won’t change anything-“
„No it won’t“, Murphy interrupts you, but this time, there’s no venom in his voice - just pain and resignation. „But it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before.“ 
Now it’s your turn to be confused. As you continue cleaning up his wounds, you mull over his words in your mind, trying to understand what he’s implying with his words. Does he mean that he was tortured on the Ark? But that can’t be right, can it? Yes, the Ark’s council is strict and unforgiving, but you haven’t heard about them torturing somebody. 
„Can you even see anything like that?“, Murphy says, interrupting your thought process, and suddenly he’s reaching out with one hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 
You swallow, trying desperately not to show how much that one little touch affected you. But your heart is thundering so loudly in your chest that you’re convinced that he’s able to hear it. 
Especially once you can no longer pretend to re-inspect the cuts on his face yet again - you really need to take a look at the wounds on his chest. 
You clear your throat, trying to sound more confident than you feel. „I - uh - I need to take a look at the wounds on your chest, judging by all that blood I’ll probably need to do some stitches … uhm could you - uh - maybe take off your shirt?“ 
Kill me, you think, wanting to die from embarrassment. Of course, the first time you’ll see a boy without his shirt on - apart from some of the boys that walk around Camp shirtless in the morning and you don’t think that they actually count - has to be in this weird situation. 
As if reading your thoughts, Murphy just smirks, before taking off his shirt. But just when’s almost free of his shirt, he hisses, his face screwing up in pain. 
„Let me“, you say, helping him. 
For a moment, you just stare at each other breathlessly. 
Then, so quietly that you’re not quite sure whether you’ve imagined it, he says: „Thank you.“ 
You nod, clearing your throat. Not knowing what else to say, you start inspecting his chest, lightly trailing your fingertips over the various scratches and other wounds - trying not to be distracted by his muscles you can feel under your fingertips and his burning gaze. 
Murphy hisses again when your fingers brush over a particularly deep wound. „Sorry“, you murmur, leaning in even closer to get a better look at his wound. „This wound needs some stitches, I’m, uh, going to get a needle and some thread.“ 
You get up and walk over to where all the medical supplies are stored, thankful for this short moment away from Murphy, his intense stare and your confusing thoughts about him. 
„Here“, you say, after sitting down in front of Murphy again and hand him the bottle of moonshine you’ve grabbed as well, „you might want to drink this before I get started on those stitches.“
Murphy just nods, taking the bottle of moonshine from you and taking a long, big sip. „Do your worst“, he says, prompting you to roll your eyes. 
„Thanks for the vote of confidence“, you murmur, though you can understand why he’d be apprehensive about this. If it were you being in his situation, you’d rather be stitched up by a trained doctor as well, but since you teens are all on your own and Clarke, the only one of you with actual medical training is currently getting some well-deserved sleep, you’re his only option. Unlike Clarke, you haven’t received any actual medical training but you do know how to give stitches - in theory at least - so you hopefully won’t screw this up. 
Here goes nothing, you think, getting started on the stitches. 
Murphy bites down hard on his lips, though a slight hiss still escapes him. 
You cringe, shooting him an apologetic smile before concentrating on his wound again. „Sorry.“ 
Murphy doesn’t say anything in response, just nods. 
You’re both quiet as you continue with the stitches. Then, when you’re almost done, Murphy suddenly says: „I got real sick when I was thirteen … only made it because my dad stole some medicine for me ... course, he got floated for it …“ 
You swallow, meeting his gaze. You don’t know why he’s suddenly telling you this - you just know that the story he’s about to tell you most likely won’t have a happy ending. 
Murphy looks away from you then, laughing bitterly. „My mother … she was never the same after his death … She started drinking. Blamed me for his death. Told me everyday that I’m a worthless good-for-nothing that’s responsible for his father’s death. She died three years after him … and I just-“
He stops talking then, shaking his head. 
„Murphy, I-“, you start to say, though you stop as well, not quite knowing what it is that you actually want to say. Murphy suddenly opening up to you is so confusing and his story so heartbreaking, you’re not quite sure what the appropriate words for this situation are, let alone if there even are any. 
„Anyway“, Murphy now says, voice tinged with bitterness, „I just - I had all this pai- anger in me and I didn’t know how to handle it, how to let it out. So I set fire to those rooms, got arrested.“ 
„Murphy …“, you say, your voice hollow, your heart breaking for the broken, angry boy in front of. 
He laughs dryly, though the sound has a wheezing quality to it that instantly worries you. „You wanted to know, didn’t you? Wanted to understand why I became such a jerk. Well, there you have it.“
„I do“, you say, putting away the needle and thread and looking at Murphy, meeting his gaze. „I do understand you, Murphy. I still think you’re an opportunistic jerk, but I understand, I really do. I - I know that it’s not worth much, but I am sorry that this happened to you, it’s awful.“ 
Murphy just shrugs, not saying anything. 
But he’s still looking at you and now that you know what to look for, now that you finally understand him better, you see the pain in his expression.
Not just due to the torture. There’s so much more, pain that’s probably been building in him for years and that he turned into sharp, pointed hate and anger, because he didn’t know how to deal with all of his pain. 
You want to help him, though you don’t really know how and why. Yes, he is a rude jerk and at Camp he was also somewhat of a bully, but you think that that’s most likely due to him not knowing how to communicate in something that’s not just anger and aggression. But you also believe that there’s more to him - that he’s not just this lonely, broken, rude jerk that that’s probably just a facade he’s hiding behind. 
„I understand, Murphy“, you say again, still looking at the storm of emotions in his green-blue eyes. Something shifts in Murphy’s expression then - he’s listening to you and something in his gaze tells you that he believes your words, believes you. „I truly do. But there’s more to life than just pain, anger and aggression.“ 
With that, you reach out a hand, softly grasping one of his hands with yours. You’re not quite sure why you’re doing it, you just know that you want to be there for Murphy, that you want to help him - and that you want him to understand that you truly mean your words. 
Murphy’s arm jerks, as if he wants to rip his hand out of your grasp, but then he grasps your hand, squeezing it lightly. He reaches up with his other hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 
Just like before, your breath hitches. But this - this is different than before. This time, there’s no venom in Murphy’s gaze, no quiet challenge, no pent-up anger. Just curiosity and something softer that you can’t quite describe. 
„I still don’t really get why you’re helping me“, Murphy says, leaning even closer to you. You’re so close that you could count the lashes on his good eye. You feel his breath ghosting over your skin and you shiver in anticipation. 
„But I’m glad that I let you.“ With that, he leans in even closer, searching your eyes and whatever he sees in them, must convince him. He presses his lips to yours and you’re so overwhelmed that you don’t know how to react. But just when you feel Murphy starting to pull away, you kiss him back, bringing your free hand up to his neck. 
You feel him smirk into the kiss and if you weren’t currently kissing him, you’d definitely roll your eyes at him. As it is, you continue kissing him, though you give his hand a squeeze that’s probably a bit too harsh. 
Murphy just smirks again, deepening the kiss and tangling his hand in your hair. You can feel your heart start to beat faster and there’s a curious sensation in your stomach that feels like those butterflies that you’ve read about in books. 
You lose yourself in the kiss, in the feeling of Murphy.
Kissing Murphy feels good, though his lips are chapped and dry and he hisses in pain when you overeagerly lean a little too much against him. But still - kissing Murphy feels good. 
And even though you’re still confused and you know that one conversation won’t suddenly make him sunshine personified - you like his dry sarcasm way too much for that - you also know that you want more. You want to get to know Murphy, really get to know him, you want to be there for him. And if there are more occasions to kiss him along the way of getting to know him and helping him, then you certainly won’t complain about that. 
Murphy gives you one last, bruising kiss, before breaking the kiss, breathlessly leaning his forehead against yours. 
„I - Murphy - what …“, you stammer, still too wound up from the kiss. 
Murphy smirks. „That was thank you.“ 
You can’t help but roll your eyes. „I see“, you say dryly. 
„For stitching me up … and for not giving up on me“, Murphy adds, his voice serious again. 
You smile softly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his eye. „I’ll be sure to stick around then.“ 
Murphy grins, though there’s a vulnerability to it now that wasn’t there before. „Doesn’t sound too bad …“ 
„Yeah, it doesn’t“, you agree, before leaning up to kiss him again. 
You feel him smiling into the kiss, causing you to smile as well. 
Yes, the road ahead is not going to be easy - this is John Murphy, resident sarcastic, rude asshole, after all - but you’re not afraid to walk it with Murphy. 
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arisuworld · 8 months
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WHY YOU SHOULDN'T GIVE UP
You could be getting your desires at anytime. You could be 5 seconds away from getting your desires, but you gave up. You could be 1 minute away from entering void state, but you gave up. Instead of giving up, PERSIST. Persist in knowing that everything you desire is already yours. Persist in the 4D, live in your imagination. You can't ignore the 3D? Pathetic. You're just not disciplining yourself enough.
Neville was able to manifest getting out of a war and being sent home back to his family in a matter of 9 days! How did he do it? PERSISTENCE! He persisted in his 4D, lived in his imagination.
So, know that your desires are already yours. No matter what you see in the 3D currently, you already have whatever you want. Live in your imagination. No matter what you see through your eyes in mirror, you already have what you desire. Ignore the 3D. NO MATTER WHAT, YOU ALREADY HAVE WHAT YOU DESIRE!!! Your desires have to show up in the 3D, IT'S THE LAW. IT CANNOT FAIL YOU! Stop giving up if you don't see your results in 3D. The only reason you're not seeing them is because you keep thinking they're not there.
LIVE IN YOUR IMAGINATION, BE INVOLVED WITH YOUR 4D, ENGAGE WITH YOUR MIND, HAVE INNER CONVERSATIONS. When you constantly look in the mirror for "proof", It's going to put a barrier between you and your manifestations, because you're so LONGING to seek your results in the 3D instead of working in your 4D (mind). YOUR INNER REALITY IS YOUR O N L Y REALITY!
Stop worrying! Everything you desire is already YOURS, no matter what. You'll see it once you stop caring so much about the 3D. Joseph Murphy once said that "Your subconscious mind doesn't have eyes, it only takes in what you give it" and it's TRUE!!! Your subconscious ONLY TAKES IN WHAT YOU TELL IT. If you're still having doubts and worries about what you're manifesting, it'll take a while for you to physically see what you already have. Flip those negative thoughts around. Meditate, listen subliminals and do yoga nidra. Do anything you want to do to clear your mind and persist, PERSIST AND PERSIST!!!
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your-nanas-house · 2 months
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Because you were a good step-daddy
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◇ Pairing: Stepdad!Cillian Murphy X stepdaughter!Reader
◇ Warnings: smut, blowjob (face-fucking), handjob, choking, gagging, stepdad x stepdaughter dynamic, fluff, maybe slightly dub-con? Not really, daddy kink (?), age gap (but everyone is off age)
◇ Summary: Cillian had been such a good addiction to the family that Y/n couldn't help but reward him.
◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.
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"I heard what you said to your friend and I know mom doesn't threat you like you deserve.. that's why I wanna do it" Y/n informed Cillian, her soft eyes staring at his face as he sat on the armchair of their living room, her cheek pressed against his thigh.
"Darling... Your love is already the most precious gift I can ask for. There really is no need—" the older man started, speaking with a soft tone at his step daughter while swallowing a lump in his throat, his gaze focused on hers.
Since the first time he met Y/n, after dating her mom for months and finally move in together, he knew how big her heart was and how caring and open to their relationship she would have been. But her good heart was about to cross a boundary... that he deep down wanted to cross.
"I know! But you deserve it, you've been so nice and kind, Cillian" she murmured with a little pout, she really was feeling a bit upset because she truly believed that the Irishman in front of her deserves the world, even if he didn't think the same.
Her eyes softened, trying to make her expression look like if she was pleading him, in an attempt to melt his heart and doubts "Pretty please, you really deserve it... you've been so good" she added the praise while stroking slowly his thigh to reach the laces of his pants.
The young woman could tell that there were still battles in the pretty head of his but she knee that with a gentle push they would have went all away. Just a little tiny push... or stroke, she thought.
And after a deep inhale her face was snuggling against his crotch, catching him off guard
"Fuck! Honey—... t-there really is no need, I-I... Oh god" Cillian's low voice said, his big hand moving automatically on her head to allow his thick fingers to intertwine in her locks. His body unconsciously reacting at the situation, making his hips move forward so that his already half-hard boner could hump her face.
Just a little push, Y/n repeated to herself with a tiny amused smile... her step-dad was still just a man after all.
"Such a good step-daddy, being so nice to everyone, buy things.. doing grocery and being the man of the house" her sweet voice hummed as she lowered his sweatpants and starts to suckle on his clothed lenght
"While also working... cooking, and taking care of us" Y/n kept adding, trailing wet kisses along the form of his boner till arriving to the wet spot his pre-cum left on his boxers "Yes... such a reward worthy daddy" she purred out before sucking on the fabric to taste him, gifting some friction to the probably already angry red tip of his.
His grip on her hair was getting tighter and rougher, his breath was heavy and his self-control was slowly running out... she could tell, mostly by his movements of his hips which made his crotch press against her face even more and his aggressive grip on the armrest... tight enough to make his knuckles become white.
No words where exchanged as soon as her warm lips met the soft skin of his V-line, tracing a trail of wet kisses down to the soft skin of his cock. Her smaller hands wrapped themselves around it to move his foreskin and expose his leaking tip at the fresh air so that her wet tongue could taste him.
The young woman placed some kiss after suckling on his tip, lowering herself down till her mouth met his balls, and her lips could wrap around one to suck while her hand worked on his length. She did the same for his other ball as well before a low whine coming from Cillian interrupted his sweet melody filled with moans, groans, and heavy breathing.
"Stop teasing, love" he ordered breathless, pulling her head away from his cock for a split second so that he could compose himself and not cum so quickly.
It has been a while since someone took care of his needs. He sure was in a relationship with Y/n's mom, but she didn't have any interest in being intimate with him since he moved into their house.
His thick fingers caressed his step-daughter's cheek softly, his thumb slowly smearing her spit on her bottom lip, letting her kitty lick his fingertip before sucking on it.
"Such a good thing, you are" his Irish accent made her smaller body shiver, her right hand started to stroke his cock again, teasing the tip a couple of times to lubrificate her actions before finally getting to the main "gift".
Her lips wrapped around his tip again, her tongue flat against it as she prepared herself... moving down with a sudden motion that allowed her to deep-throat him fully. Her gagging noises nearly swallowed by his low groans.
The older man let her throat adjust at the intrusion, stroking lovingly her soft hair while cooing praises between heavy breaths
"Just like that, that's a good girl... relax your cute throat for me, love"
As soon as she was able to, tears threatening to wet her cheeks, his fingers curled again in her hair in a dominant grip. Tight enough to be able to guide her like he wanted but not as to hurting her.
"Fuck, love!" Cillian cursed, his movements at the beginning slow before carefully increasing them. Now fully fucking her face.
Her gagging noise becoming bit louder as his cock kept thrusting in her mouth, his balls slapping her chin at each eager move. His grunts weren't that low as well, due to the pleasure he was creating by using her face like he wanted.
His grip got tighter, a couple of thrusts after she gagged again around his cock and his whole body tensed as hot ropes of cum were shoot down her throat. Slowly and carefully he let go of Y/n, lowering his hips to free her and allow her to breath properly while she decided what to do with his seed.
Her puffy eyes were red because of the tears and her jaw hurted but she couldn't help but smile as he saw her step-dad slowly relax with a happy grin on his handsome face
"Thank you, darling... I was really craving a good blowjob".
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undercoverpena · 10 months
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iv. before the gold and glimmer
javier peña x f!reader | chapter four of late night texts
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summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.
chapter warnings: fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. an: i adore each of you who are coming along this weird and wonderful journey, we're getting closer, i promise. wordcount: 2.5k.
text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi
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I’ll be home in an hour.
I’ll be ready 
Are we going to do the crossword tonight or are you going to spend an hour flirting?
too early to comment
I’m bringing my A game. 
to flirt with me? baby you flatter me 
No. Crosswords, you fucking flirt.
hermosa did you just swear at me 
I did. Now I have to concentrate, stop distracting me. 
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Javi is aware that his pop is thinking things. 
Has been since the phone conversations began. The ones initially having slotted in when the house was empty. Quiet. Just him and his thoughts banging around, occasionally punctured by him pressing the keys on his phone until the phone rang.
Now, the phone calls have bled out into quick chats on other nights (Javi’s hand over his mouth, trying to muffle a laugh). He’s caught sight of his pop’s smirk more than once.
He’s very aware that he hasn’t helped things by dropping your name into conversations.
Accidentally, at first.
Then just accepting his fate and embracing it. Talking about you as if you’re this fully fleshed thing in front of him—mentioning the news thing you’d heard, something funny you’d said. 
He even mentioned you to Murphy. Again, not on purpose. 
Steve was quick. Picking up on it immediately in their latest monthly catch-up where usually Javi listens to how amazing, disruptive and yet tiring kids are—how Miami would be good for him, and that Connie misses him. This time it segwayed suddenly into, and who might she be then, Jav? 
It had crossed his mind to play it down. To conceal you—because a part of him suspects he should hate all of it.
Before, he had always preferred secrecy. Kept the women he had been seeing behind lock and key. Partially due to the nature, the risk—now, though, he thinks he just doesn’t want to share. 
Doesn’t want to taint it. Selfishly wanting to keep you all to himself, his slice of happiness that no one can dull.
It also aids in holding himself back from falling over the cliff, tumbling into ruin because he let himself get ahead of himself. 
Feel too much, too quick, because Javi didn’t even know what you looked like. Hadn’t eyed you up across a bar, hadn’t spotted you in the aisle of the store.
You’d stumbled into his life.
No reason, no real cause or explanation, and now he’s not entirely sure as to why he feels the amount he does. That he cares, that he likes you. How that when he talks to you, he feels only happy, content and joy—like he could do and be anything.
You provide the key to the semblance of normalcy he’s been longing for. Liking what others would think is mundane, like about your day. Now he longs for it all face to face, where he can read your face instead of dissecting your voice. 
She’s just someone I’ve been talking to. Don’t—don’t even know her, really.  You knew all the others well before? Fuck off, Murphy.  Just sayin’, sometimes, shit just don’t make sense, Jav. 
Steve says it as though it answers all his problems. 
Like he thinks the words will make all the pieces click into place, suddenly cemented and real—all understood and no longer complex. 
But it’s all still very much messy—a tangling of feelings that ready exist and more which threaten to come.
In truth, he doesn’t mind the complications of it all. He just thinks it’s best to protest it a little. Pretend he hasn’t abandoned all logic just because someone made him smile and feel a little less broken.
Because he knew, just like those around him, that he was done for. 
It all perfectly evidenced by the fact he doesn’t mind when his pop begins giving him one of those smirks more often than not—the ones surrounded by wiry white hair, partnered with a knowing look on his face. The same conversation circling, the one that’s been going on for days now—
“When the two of you meeting?”  “I don’t know, pop.”  “You made plans to see her yet?” “No, pop.”  “You should go see her. You need a break.” “Pop.” 
At some stage, his pop stops beginning it—challenging him. Now he just signals the words with a look. One he assumes parents are given when their child enters the world—the one that is part knowing and part ‘you know you’re going to do what I’m saying, anyway’.
Javi hates that more than he hates the rest of the situation. 
Because his pop isn’t wrong. He wants to see you, watch your expressions instead of imagining them. 
Not just to see what you look like, but so that he can see how you react when he says certain things. Whether you scrunch your nose or your lips curl before you smile; whether you hide your face when he embarrasses you, or whether you fold your arms and pout. 
Each time the two of you text or call, he thinks it—wants to bring it up and ask.
A need in him growing, in the same way his feelings do. Multiplying, quivering in his bones when you laugh, and it travels straight to his heart—making it swell and bloom. Filling the expanse of his chest until he isn’t sure he can feel any more happiness. 
Picking up the phone on the first ring, he hears your usual chirpy hey, which he follows with his now usual: “Hey baby.” 
“¿Cómo estás, Javi?”
“Ay, you’ve been practising.” 
Hearing you laugh makes him smile. Unknots the stresses of the day from him as he pulls the chair over—sitting on it as his head rests against the wall. 
“I purchased a Spanish for kids book, so that’s my skill level.” 
Smirking, he rolls his lips. “You trying for me?” 
“Sí.”
Snorting, he rubs the bridge of his nose. “Eres tan linda, querida.” 
“I know the last word means darling.” 
“I said you are very cute.” 
You pause, a shuffling sound coming from your side of the phone before the softest of sighs. “You’re making me blush, again.” 
“You make it too easy.” 
“Stop,” you say, all fake warning and all likely accompanied by a cute smile, “How’s your day been—tell me you got a splinter in your ass?” 
Smirking, he slumps further into the chair, legs spread, spare hand resting on his thigh. “Starting to think you only talk to me for my body.”
The laugh you let out is closer to a howl, and his cheeks hurt from hearing it—his grin so large, it doesn’t fade for hours. 
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apprehensive feeling, 5 
Come on, Javi. 
I think it may be angst 
If I were there I’d kiss your cheek. 
I know you mean that in a nice way but it feels demeaning 
Oh no I meant it as the latter. 
is that how we’re being
You tell me. 
paris divider, 5 
Seine. You ever been to Paris?
no have you 
Not yet. 
not yet? 
Well there’s always time. Heard it’s a romantic place to go.
maybe if you were nicer someone would take you 
You make a good point. 
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things go ok this morning
Not like I wanted but not the worst. I can apply but they’re playing the experience card again. 
bullshit, you ok
I will be. Thank you for checking in on me. 
you can tell me if youre not yknow
I just need to destress is all. It’s like talking to a fucking wall sometimes.
fuck I love it when you swear 
Javi, stop. 
do you really want me to 
No. But you’re making my face burn. 
bet you look real pretty getting embarrassed 
I actually do not, so you should stop so you don’t inflict the face on others. 
I don’t believe you
Maybe one day you’ll see it for yourself so you can believe me 
wish one day was today 
Why would you destress me? 
baby I’d make sure you couldn’t even think the word stress never mind feel it 
You confident in that? 
youll have to find out
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Something was different in the air the moment he woke up. 
Things went far easier than they normally would. No one tried to bowl him over during feeding. The fence he went to check on didn’t look all that bad—and there wasn’t even a queue when he visited the homeware store for pop. 
There also wasn’t a rain cloud in the sky.
And it put him on edge. 
His gut—the one he had relied on to take down the narcos—flared back to life. It could be a good day, a once-in-a-blue moon, a blessing in a sea of disguise. 
But rationality didn’t stop him from checking over his shoulder, do a final sweep of the land. 
It had been like that when he’d first gotten back. All on edge, finding it difficult to settle. He had smoked back then, worse than he had done when he’d been over in Colombia. It’s why he’d chosen to quit.
Now, he rotated the phone between his finger and thumb, feeling it vibrate against his palm, checking if it was you before he allows the smile—the one you pull from him by just texting him—blossom. 
So I have good news and I have bad news lead with the bad first I can’t call you on Thursday night
His heart drops, plummets. 
A part of him knew something bad was around the corner. Taking in your text, over and over. Checking he understood it as he climbed the stairs up the porch. 
Javi rolls his head on his neck, staring up—the flies around the porch light buzzing away as he tries to compose himself. 
Somehow always knowing that deep down, this day would come. His mind is too quick to act, abruptly busy with conjuring thoughts. That old analytical part of him whirs back to life as it tries to make heads or tails of the situation in front of him, as though it was a case.
Because he suspects that your good news is that you have a date—someone you’ve seen face to face and has swept you off your feet. A person who will take you away from him because he can’t offer you that.
Plus, you don’t even know him.
Not really. 
He’s just this person you text. 
This person he feels…
well fuck. The good news best be the best news ever I think it is. Don’t tease me, querida Says you, baby.
Baby?
It takes him a second. 
The four letters blowing all the conjured theories well and truly out of the water. 
His eyes trace over the letters, even after he’s sent the reply. Javi’s heart suddenly in his throat, pulse in his ear—the blood banging around. 
Shut up. Anyway I can’t call you because I’ll be on an early flight in the morning to Houston. Work needs me to check out some odd sales. You’ll be in Texas? Yeah. So the good news is, if you meant what you said, we could meet in person.
He swallows, spine straightening—posture suddenly pristine, making the muscles in his back ache from the day as they flex and tighten under his shirt. 
You want to meet him. 
Or he thinks. 
Not wanting to read between the lines—needing the confirmation, to hear you say it. His shirt begins to cling to his back, hair falling over his forehead as sweat grows, strands of hair being grasped against his skin.
You want to meet me? Of course, I’m the one suggesting it. But if you don’t, that’s fine. I mean, I’ll begin judging how lonely you actually are if you don’t. But it’s fine.
His thumbs aren’t quick enough. 
Each text firing in—and he wishes, more than he usually does, that he could be there with you. Clutch your cheek, assure you, make you breathe—
baby breathe. I want to meet you, I do But? but nothing
Even if there is. 
There seems like there’s a but
Javi doesn’t mean to, but he laughs. 
Somehow, miles away—you can already read him. Know him. His thumb massaging his nose, wrist hiding his smile from the world. 
I’m nervous about the fact you could see me and never want to speak to me again You think I’m that shallow? No. It’s just you’ve been the best thing about my day in a long, long time, querida Call me. it’s late isn’t it Javi. 
He moves, the chair he had been on almost toppling over as he opens the storm door and then the next. Moving into the kitchen, not even needing to pull your number up. He knows it. 
It’s burned into him. 
The receiver meets his ear as you answer in record time as your voice greets his ears. Followed by a sigh when he greets you in a low-whisper.
“Javi, I feel the same.” 
He swallows. “Yeah?” 
Silence greets him before you do a soft laugh. That little one he’s begun noticing you do when you later tell him you’ve just nodded or shrugged—forgetting he can’t see down the phone. 
“I wanted you to call so you could hear it. That I want to meet you because I can’t stop thinking about you. And that might be insane, and odd. But… I like you. I feel things.” 
“I know,” he says, pressing his forehead against the wall—eyes closing, hand tightening around the phone. “I like you, too.” 
Javi hears it. The discernible way you relax. 
It comes across in the way you take a breath, in the way he suddenly feels his own shoulders slide from his ears. 
“But if it’s too soon, I can use some time off—“
“No, cariño. No. I… I want to. I’ll be there.” 
You swallow—loud in the silence. Almost clunky. “I’m scared too.” 
Opening his eyes, he stares at the peeling paint. Something running over him, from his head to his feet. It whispers to relax, to breathe—allowing him fully to do both. 
“You could… I don’t know, see me and find I don’t match the image of me you’ve created. Or, find me horribly boring. Or that I’m actually the strangest person. It’s scary. I’m scared too.” 
He nods, smiling to himself. “I’ll pick you up from the airport.”
“You don’t have to—“
“Baby.” It silences you, and the thought makes him smile. “I’ll pick you up from the airport, okay?”
It takes a beat. 
A full ten seconds. 
“We’re going to meet,” you say softly, almost wistfully. 
And it cracks then, a smile. A real one. His usual one. Turning on the spot, pressing his back against the wall, head meeting it as he lets the grin spread into his cheeks, almost to his eyes if his thumb and finger didn’t begin rubbing them. 
“We’re gonna meet,” he replies.
Opening his eyes, seeing the noticeable flicker of the television—its shimmering light flittering through the doorway, illuminating his pop, who is standing smiling at him. 
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AN: remember, if you wish to see the deleted 18+ scene for the birthday bash, be sure to check back on 8th of July, otherwise see you next Tuesday 
next ->
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intoanotherworld23 · 10 months
Text
Fighting Fire With Fire
Pairing: Female reader x Javier Pena x Steve Murphy
Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY DNI, holy moly this whole thing needs to have a bible thrown at it major smut and sex, use of handcuffs, bondage, oral male and female receiving, p in v, unprotected sex, p in a, threesome, mild spanking, swear words, overstimulation
Summary: Wanting to give them a taste of their own medicine you have the bright idea to ignore Javier and Steve all day, but it ends with you getting punished
Check out my other works on my Hall Of Hunks
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As soon as you saw the black Audi pull up the driveway your stomach dropped. You knew you were in serious trouble, but also for a world of absolute pleasure. Utter excitement coursing through your body at what they were going to do with you.
You had been ignoring Javier and Steve all day, and it was all on purpose. It was hard to do, but you stayed motivated in your plan.
They had been ignorning you all week, and you just wanted to give them a taste of their own medicine. Granted it was work things, but still you felt they still should make time for you.
Granted it wasn't their fault cause they were busy with interviews for their movie, but you still wanted to feel wanted. Ignoring their texts and calls. They clearly didn't appreciate it based on the tone of the messages.
Javier: sweetheart you know we don't like being ignored.
Steve: darling answer your phone. You know we are very busy
Steve: don't make us come home Javier is getting very worried
Steve: this is your last warning sweetheart.
Their words had you feeling all giddy inside knowing you were getting to them. You were fighting fire with fire, but weren't prepared for how big the flames were about to get. You were just desperate to feel their touches.
They were very protective of you so when you decided to not respond it worried them. Taking your safety seriously, so they grabbed their things, and started heading to you no questions asked.
People still didn't understand your relationship with the two movie stars. Everywhere you three went people looked at you, and clear judgement on their faces. Doing your best to ignore them, and remembering that both men loved you.
The door being barged open and seeing Javier’s and Steve’s stern yet lustful gazes had you feeling nervous. A part of you was starting to rethink why you acted the way you did. Javier was the first one to step forward.
"You've been very naughty sweetheart." Javier growled as he crossed his arms across his chest.
Steve stood behind him as his eyes raked up and down your body. His once light eyes now darkened with lust. You were wearing just a shirt barely covering your butt and some lace panties.
"Ignoring us like that isn't very nice. You know what has to happen now." Steve spoke up as he walked forward as well even closer then Javier.
"I'm sorry." You whispered and they just both smirked at you.
Steve was the sympathetic and caring when it came to punishment. Not wanting to push you past your limit. Constantly watching your body language to make sure he wasn’t hurting you.
Whereas Javier was more dominant and loved to punish you and hear you beg. If you didn’t end up shaking with pleasure with tears coming down your cheeks then he wasn’t done.
They were different but they even each other out so they didn't break you completely. Plus the aftercare made it all worth it.
"You're gonna be sorry baby." Both men had these dark looks in their eyes, and it almost scared you. You were definitely turned on more though.
You felt like a helpless animal being cornered by two ravenous beasts. Looking at both of them waiting for them to make their move. Steve and Javier looked to each other before they moved.
Next thing you know Javier and Steve are on you. Javier grabbing your hands and pinning them above your head. Steve went into the drawer, and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Before you could even protest he had them clasped around your wrists.
Tugging on the cuffs thinking for some reason you could slip out of them. They just chuckled at your weak attempt of getting yourself out of this. Your panties were soaked at this point and it wouldn't take long for them to figure it out.
"What should we do with her first?" Javier looked over at Steve and they just looked at your figure lying there awaiting your punishment.
"I think we need to get a taste of that pussy first." His words had your thighs clenching together.
They knew you loved being eaten out, but this wasn't going to be for your pleasure. It was all for them, and they weren't going to give you what you wanted.
Both men grabbed an ankle and peppered your thighs with sloppy kisses. Looking down watching as their mouth inched closer to your drenched panties. Your breathing had increased as they reached the hem of your panties.
Their lingering kisses had your legs trembling with need. Each leg was being showered with sensual kisses and touches having you mewl like a cat in heat. You probably looked so desperate, but right now you didn't care.
"These need to go." Javier grabbed the sides and pulled them down your legs tossing them to the side.
"She's already soaked." Steve noted looking between your legs your arousal already leaking out of your folds.
The cold breeze hitting your pussy making you whimper. They both went back to kissing around your core, but not kissing where you wanted them to. It was frustrating you but you didn’t want to push it, and then not give you what you want.
They wanted to hear you beg for it. It was all a game to them, and you had to play along with them. You finally snapped when their lips touched just right beside your folds.
"God please. Please Javi. Please Stevie eat my pussy please I'm begging you." You howled tossing your head to the side feeling your cheeks heating up already.
"Did you hear that Javi? Did that sound like begging to you?" Steve’s tone was mocking and Javier just chuckled as they looked up at your writhing body.
"Nope I think our baby girl can do better than that." Javier smirked when he heard your little whimpers.
Between their kisses and sensual touches up and down your legs you felt yourself going crazy. Tugging against the cuffs the cold metal pressing harshly against your skin.
"Fuck please I want both of your tongues on my pussy I want it so badly please. Fuck me with your tongues." You whined bucking your hips upwards hoping they got the hint and would show some mercy.
Without another word Steve pulled your pussy lips apart getting easier access. Licking his lips ready to just devour you whole. Your clit was throbbing being so exposed.
Javier was thrusting his tongue inside you while Steve gave your clit kitten licks. Your mouth hung up as you watched them eat your pussy like starved men. It was the hottest thing you could ever witness, and it was almost hard to believe it was happening to you.
"Oh fuck that feels so good." Biting your lower lip between your teeth and throwing your head back against the pillow.
Javier could feel your walls clenching around his tongue, and decided to add a finger. Steve taking the hint as he sucked your little bundle of nerves hard making you scream out. Your whimpers and moans getting louder.
"Tastes so sweet." Javier mumbled against your folds the vibrations making your back arch off the bed.
Both of their mouths felt so warm against your pussy, your body was melting into the mattress. You didn't know who you wanted more.
Javier was slurping your pussy his hand coming down across your stomach to keep you down. Licking up and down your folds, his beard scratching along your skin. Being so lost in your own pleasure you couldn't tell whose tongue was whose.
"Keep going." You said as your ground your hips against their greedy mouths.
Feeling yourself getting closer to the edge. Pulling against the cuffs desperate to touch them and grip onto their heads.
Just as you felt your orgasm about to hit you it was taken away just as fast. Opening your eyes in confusion you saw them get off the bed. You were so frustrated your pussy was actually starting to ache really badly.
"Bad girls don't get to cum so easily." Javier’s stern tone told you he really wasn't happy with you.
Both men shred their clothing right before your eyes. Their hard cocks slapping against their stomach, and your mouth watered at the sight.
Hands slowly stroking themselves as their eyes looked hungrily in between your legs. Your pussy glistening in the light making them lick their lips.
Wanting nothing more than to wrap your fingers around them. They knew exactly what they were doing, and definitely wanted you to suffer.
"Mouth or cunt?" Scrunching your eyebrows in confusion until you realized that Javier was talking to Steve.
"I want that smart ass little mouth of hers." He walked over to the side of the bed where your head was you were watching his every move.
Javier got on his knees on the bed and gripped your ankles placing your legs in the air. Without any warning he plunged himself deep inside you making you gasp. Steve took that as an opportunity to push his cock inside your mouth.
"Fucking hell always so tight for our cocks." Javier groaned as he wasted no time thrusting in and out of you.
"Such a good girl for us. Always taking us so well." Steve moaned as he pet your head watching your lips moving up and down his shaft.
"This is in the way." Javier gripped your shirt before ripping it straight down the middle. Exposing your breasts to their hungry gazes.
Your breasts bouncing with every thrust. Javier and Steve didn't waste another second before they each grabbed a breast. Pinching your nipples until they were hard buds under their fingertips.
Your skin slapping against Javier’s pelvis echoing around the room, had your entire body on fire. You just wanted nothing more than to feel and touch their skin.
"Such a cock hungry little whore for us. Always so eager for us." Javier’s words had a shiver running up your spine.
Javier and his filthy words could have you wet within seconds. Javier loved dirty talk and he knew you loved it even more. He found it amusing how such simple words or phrases could have you soaked, and begging him for more.
Moving your tongue up and down Steve’s cock bobbing your head up and down. He was lightly thrusting his hips into your mouth so you could take more of him. Gagging around him a little bit of saliva running down your chin.
You didn't know whose cock you wanted to focus on more. The pounding from Javier had your legs shaking, and your back sweating. You wondered if they were going to let you cum this time or continue their torture.
Your pussy squeezing Javier’s cock as you tried adjusting around him. His grip tightening on your ankles as he kept your legs spread for him. Hitting a deeper angle inside of you. Your moans vibrating on Sebastian making him groan.
"Fuck do that again." Javier then snapped his hips sharply making you squeal around Steve’s cock causing him to growl his cock twitching in your mouth.
They were using you like their own little plaything, and you absolutely loved it. Only they could do this to you, and you had no complaints what so ever.
Javier was thrusting into you roughly making your whole body move the bed rocking back and forth. Which was good for Steve cause it was moving your head making your mouth take more of his cock.
The harder Javier fucked you the more you moaned around Steve. You so badly want to turn your head away so you could watch Javier sliding in and out of you. You always liked to watch as the entered you it turned you on tremendously.
Your pussy was completely soaked making it so much easier for Javier to slam in and out of you. Your juices coating Javier’s cock making him groan at how wet you were the sounds echoing across the room.
"I'm gonna cum." Looking up you saw Sebastian with his head thrown back and eyes closed in pure ecstasy.
You sucked him even harder egging him closer to release wanting to swallow every drop of him. Basking in the triumph that you could make either of them feel this way.
"Make him cum like the good girl you are. Make him cum down your throat and I want you to swallow all of him." Javier commanded you as his thrusts were becoming sloppier and slower.
Taking Steve all the way down your throat you felt him twitching in your mouth followed by his warm cum filling your mouth. Doing what you were told your swallowed all of his release while still slowly licking his cock up and down.
"Such a good fucking girl to us."
“You look so fucking good like this cariño.”
He looked down at you lovingly stroking the cheek while Javier continued to fuck you feeling his own release hitting him. Your pussy squeezing him like a vice, and your orgasm once again coming as well.
Javier let your legs fall beside him as his hand gripped your breasts as he squirted his seed inside of you. Both men groaning above you their foreheads covered in sweat.
Once again your release was ripped from you, and it was really starting to hurt you this time. Being so close, and they were denying you of your orgasm as punishment. Judging by their faces they weren’t done with you yet.
"Please I'm sorry I won't ignore you guys again please I just want to cum so badly." You cried out hoping they would finally give in and end this punishment.
Laying their wiggiling your hips in frustration not having been able to cum. Whining loudly your pussy clenching around air both them having been satisfied but not you.
Your noises getting both their attention. Javier leaning over you uncuffing one hand making you think this torture was over. The ache between your legs even more so than it was before.
"Turn her ass over." Javier turned towards Steve who grinned and was more than happy to flip you on your stomach.
Your pussy was so raw right now you didn't know if you were going to be able to take one of their cocks anymore. You were begging for sweet release, but you were so sensitive already.
The hand that was under your body was then moved back to the headboard to only be cuffed again. Groaning in frustration wiggiling your hips making both men growl at your movements. A hand coming down on your ass hard making you squeal.
"Ass or cunt?" This time Steve asked Javier although you knew what he was going to choose
Your pussy clenching around nothing again but just at the thought of them both being inside you. No matter how many times you took them both it was such a thrilling experience, and mind blowing.
"I want that sweet ass of hers." Javier swatted your ass hard a gasp leaving your lips as you felt the sting.
You felt hands lift your hips up so your ass was in the air. Steve maneuvered his way under you aligning his cock right under your once again soaked entrance. Your wrist that was still cuffed was feeling sore.
Slowly pushing himself inside of you making your mouth hang open as you fully lowered yourself down on him. Steve was not as thick as Javier, but he was longer.
"God this pussy is like heaven. Such a tight little cunt." He groaned as he gripped your hips and started thrusting up into you. Your breasts dangling in his face.
Looking into his eyes as he was moving faster, and slamming into your harder. It felt so intimate and passionate. The way his hands moved up and down your back almost in a soothing way. Moving your hips slamming your pussy down on him so you could feel him even deeper.
Just when you were getting comfortable with Steve you fel the bed dip behind you. Javier grabbed your ass cheeks making sure to spread you wide for him. Opening you up for him even more stretching you as wide as you could handle.
Hearing Javier open a bottle squirting the cold liquid onto your asshole, and feeling him spread some on your ass.
"Shhh sweetheart we're gonna take good care of you." Steve whispered soothingly into your ear.
Both men could feel your muscles tensing under their touches. The difficult was about to happen, and they wanted to make sure you were as comfortable as possible.
“That’s it cariño just relax.” Pumping his cock as his other hand rubbed your puckered asshole in a soothing manner.
Your nerves were all over the place as he placed the tip of his cock at your backside. Steve could senses how nervous you were, and lifted his head up so his mouth could latch onto a nipple. Moaning even louder your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
Pushing his cock inch by inch until he was all the way inside of your ass. Javier was squeezing your ass he let you adjust around him. Closing his eyes to concentrate on not cumming already.
Breathing harshly in and out of your nose as you being were filled to the brim. Your mouth biting down on your outstretched arm almost breaking skin with how intense this feeling was.
"Her ass is almost just as tight as her pussy." Javier groaned as he was slowly pushing in and out of you.
"Such a good girl taking our cocks so well. She was made for us." Steve moaned beneath you his lips moved to your neck sucking on the skin surely leaving a mark.
When Javier was pushing in Steve was pulling out, and vice versa. You were completely stuffed and you were loving it. No words were able to leave your mouth only noises. Javier continued to spit absolute filth to you. Your pussy would clench around Steve making him groan.
Once Javier felt you were okay both men nodded to each other before picking up their thrusts. Javier snapping his pelvis against you, while Steve was thrusting up into you. Lifting your body up and down to meet their powerful cocks.
"Holy fuck oh my god. Your cocks feel so good." You cried out loving the feeling of having them both inside of you.
"You just love our cocks don't you sweetheart." Javier spoke with gritted teeth as he looked down watching as your asshole swallowed his cock.
Both men groaning and grunting as they were fucking your body into oblivion. Your hands gripped the rails as you felt the cuff really digging into your skin, but you didn't care. Pushing past the pain, and feeling only the pleasure.
Your entire body was spent and you didn't know how much more you could take. Just letting them do whatever they needed to do hoping you’d get to feel that orgasm.
"I bet she won't ignore us again huh?" Steve joked making Javier grin behind you to look at the other smirking boy before he turned his attention back to your ass.
"Say it." Javier said smacking your ass sharply the sting more intense.
They weren't letting up with their movements making it almost impossible for you to talk right now, but they wanted your words.
"Say it." Javier spoke louder his hand coming down on your ass even harder.
"I won't ignore you guys again. Please I'm sorry please keep going." You begged and whined not even caring how pathetic you looked.
You were being filled wholly and completely, and you could feel Steve all the way up in your stomach. Not being able to understand how you were always able to take them so deeply. Never getting used to the feeling of them both inside you at the same time.
Feeling the pit of you stomach burning you knew you were getting closer. Your whole body was on fire, and your legs were tingling. Just praying and hoping they would let you cum this time. There was no way you would be able to take another round of not getting release.
"Fuck I'm gonna cum in that tight little cunt of yours." His thrusts were getting rougher along with Javier.
Your entire body being sandwiched between the two ravenous men. All three of you covered in sweat rubbing against each other. Their body hair scratching against your skin pricking you.
"Shit me too. Gonna cum in your ass sweetheart. Fill you up." Javier snarled as he smacked your ass a couple of times making both your holes squeeze around them.
Your toes were curling and you closed your eyes as you finally felt your climax hitting you hard. Crying out into Steve’s chest as your juices coated his cock. Breathing heavily as your entire body was trembling, and your arms shaking.
Hearing your whimpers and feeling your body slump forward, Javier was the first to cum along with Steve. Feeling their release fill you up had you clenching around them again.
Javier slowly pulled out of your raw asshole making you hiss. Steve was next and you knew you were going to be so sore the next day. It was absolutely amazing, and you would gladly do that all over again.
"God fucking damn. Holy fuck that was amazing sweetheart." You didn't know who spoke but all you knew was that you were tired.
Quickly uncuffing you your arm fell limp as they laid your body down softly. Your wrist was so sore and throbbing, but your mind was so drowsy you really didn’t mind it all that much.
Both of them getting into bed, and you had one of them on either side of you. Snuggling into your body wanting to make you were looked after. They were both a little worried they may have pushed you a little too much.
“You okay cariño?” Javier was the first one to speak.
Unable to find your words your mouth was so dry you couldn’t say anything. All you could do was just slowly nod your head up and down in response.
Their hands rubbing your body sensually and adoringly. They both peppered your sweaty and warm skin with light kisses. They were being so gentle with you it made you smile. This was the part that you loved the most out of everything how tender they could be with you.
"Our girl did so good for us."
"Sweetheart we weren't too rough with you were we?" Once again nodding your head to them.
"Good. Now get some rest sweetheart, we aren't done with you yet." You felt both men grinning at you before your eyes snapped wide open.
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darkshelbyfiction · 5 months
Text
The Nanny Diaries (Part 4)
Pairing: Dark Cillian Murphy x Innocent Reader
Warning: Dubious Consent, Smut
The morning following your encounter with Cillian, you found yourself lost in thought, reflecting on the gravity of the situation. Your guilt, shame, and confusion swirled together, filling you with turmoil. How could things escalate so rapidly?
While Lorna was away shopping for groceries and with the Murphy children in care, it was only you and Cillian at home when you woke up the next morning, sore and red from the previous night's encounters. It seemed as though the world around you flickered and shifted, becoming surreal, clouded by foggy memories of what had transpired. 
Knowing full well that you would be on your own with him again, you nervously walked downstairs around the spacious kitchen trying desperately to quell the fear growing steadily within you.
"Good Morning Y/N, did you sleep well?" Asked Cillian, pouring himself a cup of coffee while watching you intently. His piercing gaze sent waves of unease coursing through your veins, sending your pulse racing wildly beneath your skin.
Trying valiantly to disguise your discomfort, you managed a weak smile, replying nervously, "I think so." 
He returned your feeble gesture with a subtle smirk, savoring the taste of his brew.
"Are you sore?" he inquired mischievously, looking straight into your eyes, invading your personal space without remorse. Unable to suppress a wave of panic, you couldn't help but notice the intensity of his stare, which seemed to probe deeply into your soul. 
Swallowing hastily, you glanced downwards momentarily before answering. "Not anymore..." you lied, attempting to hide any visible signs of discomfort.
"That's surprising, considering how much time I spent inside you last night," he said smoothly, sipping his coffee and fixing his intense gaze on you once more.
Anxiousness rose sharply within you as his perceptive nature penetrated your carefully constructed façade. To break free from his scrutiny, you reached for a cupboard, pretending to search for something to eat.
"You took me really well," he added playfully, making no attempt to mask his intentions. This remark caused another surge of panic to rise within you, leaving you struggling to maintain composure. 
"And even let me cum inside you, which means that, today, you are probably still leaking my seed," he continued boldly, gesturing towards your lower region before approaching you with a wicked grin spread across his face.
"I will need to get the morning after pill, Cillian," you blurted out suddenly, your voice laced with apprehension.
"That's probably a good idea but, maybe before you do, I can fill you up some more?" suggested Cillian suggestively, moving closer to you while taking your hand and leading you towards the dining room table.
"I am...uhm...," you stammered, protesting weakly/ "We shouldn't do this," you argued feebly, unable to stand your ground in the face of his undeniably attractive demeanon.
"We already did it Y/N. My cock has already been inside you last night," Cillian said persuasively, leaning forward and brushing a lock of hair behind your ear seductively. Intrigued yet anxious, you found yourself helpless against his alluring charm. He noticed your hesitation and decided to seize the opportunity further. "Think about it…you want to take the morning after pill anyway. So why don't we make it worth it?" he proposed smoothly before spinning you around to place you firmly against the table. The musky scent of desire hung thick in the air as Cillian's large palms traced down your clothed back.
"Bend over," commanded Cillian sternly, pushing you firmly onto the wooden surface of the dinner table. His authoritative tone left little doubt as to what would happen next. 
With unwavering determination, he pulled down your PJ pants, exposing your tender flesh to his hungry gaze. Feeling vulnerable and powerless, you struggled to suppress a whimper as he approached you. 
"Look at you, legs spread and ready for my cock. That's my girl," Cillian murmured approvingly, admiring your exposed form, letting his eyes roam across your silhouette before closing the distance between you two. Reaching downward, he gripped your ass possessively, claiming ownership over your body as he brought you flush against his rigid frame. 
"Your pussy is still quite swollen and red from last night, isn't it?", he taunted knowingly, evoking a shiver of dread deep within you. Surrounded by walls of temptation, resisting became increasingly difficult.
Desperate for release, you allowed him access to your core, giving way to primal instincts as they took control. Bracing yourself on the table, Cillian pushed down his boxer shorts and positioned himself at your entrance.
"So, you might feel a little sore since your opening hasn't yet entirely healed from our earlier session," he observed coolly, rubbing his thumb along your sensitive area.
Feeling self-conscious and embarrassed, you winced reflexively upon contact, but Cillian merely chuckled at your reaction.
"Let go of your inhibitions, Y/N. Remember how much pleasure I gave you," he whispered reassuringly, seeking entry with his rigid manhood. Clenching your teeth tightly, you tried to muster up enough courage to relax your muscles. Fear and uncertainty plagued your heart, yet you wanted nothing more than to satisfy Cillian's needs.
As his hardness probed deeper, you gritted your teeth, tensing involuntarily despite his gentle encouragement. Unperturbed, Cillian persisted, nudging you slowly and rhythmically until you began to adjust to the invasion.
"Relax, sweetheart. Let me show you just how amazing it can be when someone truly knows what they're doing," he urged softly, allowing his fingers to slide along your clitoris, eliciting a trembling response from your body.
As the warmth between your thighs intensified, so too did the fervor in Cillian's movements. Tightening his grasp on your hips, he delved deeper and faster, drawing cries of ecstasy from your lips.
Growing accustomed to his forceful thrusts, you surrendered fully to the euphoria coursing through your veins, embracing each rippling wave of delight with open arms.
The kitchen echoed with your gasps and moans, serving as a soundtrack to your mutually satisfying exploration. The weight of his body pressing against yours exacerbated the physical bond between you both, enhancing the connection beyond mere words. Lost in the throes of passion, there was no time nor reason to dwell on the consequences of this illicit affair.
As you neared the peak of your climax, Cillian wrapped one arm around your waist, anchoring you securely while his other hand teased your nipples expertly. The sensual assault on your senses proved almost impossible to ignore.
Arching your back slightly, you cried out loudly, your entire body convulsing with the most powerful orgasm you had ever experienced. 
"Oh God! Oh my god!" You uttered breathlessly, feeling your insides contract incessantly as waves of ecstasy consumed you completely.
"Good girl. Keep taking it like that. Just think of me buried deep inside you. Yes, right there, baby. Can you feel it?" Cillian praised you amidst your lustful trance, stroking your cheek lovingly. As if hypnotized, you nodded absentmindedly, allowing him complete control over your body. Every movement, every touch, every word served to heighten the fierce arousal consuming you whole.
"I am going to fill you up now. Take me deep inside you, okay?" Cillian asked softly, holding your gaze with an unmistakable confidence. Your head dipped in submission, acquiescing to his demand, a blush creeping across your complexion. With swift precision, he thrusted back into you deeply, pushing himself up against your cervical opening. 
It hurt like hell, but you bit your lip, enduring the pain bravely.
"Fuck. Here it comes," Cillian groaned, erupting hotly within you, causing a small cry to escape your lips.
His seed flowed freely into your waiting depths, triggering a mix of relief and satisfaction that swept through your system.
As he pulled out and stepped back, you felt a familiar twinge emanating from your aching passage and, before you had a chance to stand up, Cillian dipped his finger into your raw hole.
He then spread his cum all over dripping entrance and said "good girl, you did well," before running his cum soaked finger over your rear entrance. 
"What are you doing?" you breathed uneasily, stunned by his actions as, slowly, his digit penetrated your anus opening.
Gasping audibly due to the unexpected stimulation, you fought valiantly to regain your composure as Cillian began circling his finger menacingly before gathering more of his cum from your sore pussy before pushing it into your anus.
Shame and guilt threatened to consume you, but his assertiveness quelled those feelings as his fingers continued to probe your newly opened orifice.
Cillian smiled smugly, reveling in his dominance over you. "Don't worry, it won't hurt anymore once I'm done stretching you out," he assured, attempting to ease your discomfort. However, hearing these words only managed to evoke more anxiety rather than alleviate it. Still, you remained steadfast under his guidance, allowing him to push boundaries previously untouched. 
Having grown somewhat numb to the initial intrusion, you submitted passively to Cillian's ministrations, accepting his authority without resistance.
Gently massaging your tender entrance, he sought to comfort you, whispering tenderly, "Just let go, sweetheart. It will get better soon." Though the prospect seemed farfetched, your trust in Cillian convinced you otherwise.
In an attempt to distract you from the burning sensation, Cillian moved lower and began to play with your breasts, rolling and pinching the soft mounds skillfully. Drawing circles around your nipples with his tongue, he alternately teased and kissed your supple skin, sending electric shockwaves through your body.
"Your ass feels so good, so tight," he marveled, unable to contain his excitement, by which point you could feel his cock becoming erect again, pressing against your thigh.
"You have such a beautiful body," he complimented sincerely, leaning forward to plant a light kiss on your back. He knew exactly where to strike to make you weak in the knees. Glancing down, your face flushed with anticipation as he caressed your shoulders intimately.
"Why do you bother trying to fight it? We both know that this attraction is undeniable. Embrace it."
Staring blankly into space, your thoughts tangled in confusion and tears welled up in your eyes as Cillian pulled out his finger and wiped off any remaining residue onto his shirt.
"Do you think you can take my cock again tonight, sweetheart?" He posed with a seductive grin, invading your mental turmoil.
Swallowing nervously, you nodded hesitantly, unsure whether you were agreeing to continue their sexual escapades or simply succumbing to Cillian's relentless charm. But regardless of your true intentions, he appeared satisfied, asserting his dominance once more over your life.
159 notes · View notes
creedslove · 11 months
Text
DESERVE IT - PART FIVE
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Javier Peña x f!reader
Summary: You and Javier are sent to a conversation with Messina who determines you get relocated to another department, which means you are drifting away from Javier even more and that makes your relationship even more complicated
Warnings: a tiny little bit of fluff in the beginning, mentions of smut, angst, jealousy, disappointment, kind of stalker!javi
A/N: I wasn't sure if Javi's boss would be Carrillo or Messina because honestly I didn't pay attention to the plot of Narcos at all, because I was busy with a slut agent and a certain drug dealer (yes Wagner Moura I am talking about you), so I just picked Messina because I guess she would handle the situation better
• PART ONE
• PART TWO
• PART THREE
• PART FOUR
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You sat on the chair looking away as Murphy handcuffed Carlos and made sure he wasn't going anywhere.
Some other cops came over to find out what was happening but you just wanted to disappear from that place and never come back.
You couldn't leave, you would have to formally declare a statement explaining your side of the situation as you'd been attacked by a co-worker. Technically, according to the DEA and the Embassy rules you hadn't done anything wrong. What the agents did when they were off duty was none of their business and it didn't matter to them if you had set up for Carlos or if he was just unlucky to be caught by his wife during one of his escapades.
With the war against Pablo Escobar getting worse each day, the organs couldn't care less if an agent was having an affair.
However, they did care about agents attacking each other. That was why Carlos was immediately suspended and had to hand in his badge and gun, which made you more relieved than you'd like to admit. Now, you'd gotten away with the situation but Javier was still unclear of what was going on. He'd immobilized the attacker and saved the day, with a lot more violence and strength then required, he held him at gunpoint in front of an entire office and that was something that didn't weigh in his favor.
You both would have to talk to Messina later that day, but all you wanted was to go home and lock yourself up. You wanted to shower, change clothes and pretend that never happened, you began feeling sick, nausea and shivers traveled through your body. You hated how your emotional state affected your physical health. It'd always been like that: at the smallest sign of emotional inconvenience, your body would take a toll on it.
You rubbed your arms in order to warm up, as the tip of your fingers were ice cold but as someone had read your mind, a leather jacket had been placed on top of your back. You looked up and found Javier trying to make you wear his jacket.
He had a cup in his hand and he lowered himself "have this Y/N… I asked Colleen to make you some tea, your stomach is probably upset" he said with those stupid brown warm eyes "Messina wants to see us soon, so you gotta be alright, cariño" he cupped your cheek gently and got up again so he could handle Carlos with Steve's help.
Fuck Javier.
Fuck Javier Peña.
How dare he after all he did to you, after all he made you go through, after breaking your heart just try and sweet talk you with this cheap act of pretending to care?
Yes, he had saved you, and you were thankful to him, you were not an ungrateful little bitch, but he could have done his job without crossing any lines. Now he was offering you tea and jackets as if he cared, as if he hadn't treated you like a total stranger for the past month, after being so cruel and humiliating you like you never expected him to do.
You were not gonna let him win you over that fast, but first things first, you had an appointment with Messina that could cost a lot to you, maybe not your job, but if she decided to punish you somehow you'd be screwed.
Murphy walked to you and was just as gentle as Javi was and for a moment you almost felt sorry for giving him the cold shoulder, so you thanked him for his reassuring words
"We'll go to Messina's in a while, I just need to go to the bathroom first" you informed them and disappeared into it, locking the door and throwing some water onto your face.
You sighed deeply, watching your own reflection as you shook your head in disbelief at the warmth you felt between your folds.
For a second you had hopes your period had come unannounced so you got into the bathroom stall and pulled your panties down.
To say you were wet was an understatement.
You were soaked.
You couldn't believe yourself, you felt a mix of anger and shame at the realization Javier's display of protectiveness and violence turned you on. The way he just went all feral towards Carlos, punching him, using all his strength against him just to calm down and cold bloody point a gun at him, for you, was enough to have you like a little puta for Javier.
Maybe Carlos was right on one thing: you were a slut, too bad you were it for the wrong man.
If none of that shit had gone on between the two of you, you'd certainly spend the night alternating between sitting on his cock and sitting on his face as a thank you.
You felt your clit twitching at the thought and immediately pulled yourself together, getting decent again and washing your face once more, blocking these kinds of thoughts as best as you could.
•••
You and Javier were placed in front of Messina for the past hour. The two of you giving your own accounts of what had happened. She never interrupted you and eventually took notes here and there. You'd downed the third glass of water by then, feeling nervous at the whole situation. It felt like you were sent to the principal's office and while Javier handled the situation smoothly throwing his charms at her here and there, you were obviously tense.
The woman analyzed the situation carefully, she knew the behavior on all parts were extremely inadequate and even scolded you for coming up with your little devious plan. What agents and employees of DEA did in their free time was their business, but they expected those activities to not interfere in the daily routine of the investigations. You swore you had to bite your tongue so you wouldn't ask her the same applied to Javier using the contributors' money to pay for hookers with the horrible excuse of informative intel.
But you decided it would be best if you didn't make things worse than they already were.
Messina, on the other hand, was a powerful woman who had to struggle a lot to accomplish things and work twice as hard just because she was a woman. So she definitely knew what you went through with Carlos and though she couldn't really take sides, deep down she was satisfied with the lesson he learned.
She scolded Javier some more for his reckless actions and reminded him he had better ways to handle the situation, but when he promised he wouldn't do it again, she finished the meeting.
"Uh, Y/N… before you go, I must tell you your request to be transferred to another country was denied" you nodded shyly and saw when Javier's neck head snapped at you, shocked to hear you'd asked for a transfer, he swallowed and licked his lips, as he couldn't get his eyes off you, listening carefully as his heart raced and dropped at his toes to know you'd asked to leave the country.
"With this war we have going on against the narcos we can't afford losing any members of the team. You do a very good job and your reports are essential for us" she explained "however, with this situation, you will be assigned to another department, the lower floor, you can work for a couple of months in the crime division where things aren't as stressful as your current job is… it is temporary, just so the gossip dies and you find a break from all the stress" you nodded silently accepting her decision. On one hand you were disappointed to know you weren't leaving Colombia any sooner, on the other hand, you were thankful things went way better than expected, of course it was a demotion but you wouldn't have to work directly with Javier anymore.
You excused yourself and left her room, going outside the building as you pretended you didn't hear Javier's voice calling your name.
You stood at the sidewalk waiting for a chance to cross the street and felt his grip on your wrist, pulling you to him and making you look at him.
"Goddamn it Y/N, not even today you can actually look at me and talk to me?" He asked frustrated and pinched the bridge of his nose, when all he got from you was an eye roll.
"So you were just gonna flee the country and not tell anyone? One day I'd wake up to you gone? Is it because of me?"
You sighed and looked at him, feeling a mix of exhaustion, sadness and impatience.
"I hate my job, Javier. I hate the people I work with, I hate Colombia. I know I sound horrible when I say this, but I don't care about Escobar or what he does, I just stopped caring about all this, I just stopped and asked myself what I was doing with my life, I'm not happy here, not anymore, I have nothing to hold me back, so what's the point in staying anyway?"
He shook his head, he had no idea you felt like that, of course he knew he had hurt you, pretty bad, but not to that extent. He felt a wave of guilt and regret.
"But what about us, cariño?"
You smiled sadly "there is no 'us' Javi. There never was. Listen, I'm very thankful for what you did today, you saved me, you risked your physical integrity and your job just to make sure I was safe, but we can't pretend things haven't happened between us" you explained to him.
"Cariño, listen I want to apologize…"
"I don't wanna hear your apologies Javier, you don't mean them, it doesn't change how you feel about me, so let's just get over this okay? Eventually I'll leave Colombia hopefully it will be sooner than later and all this will be a fun story to tell your friends or something" you shrugged.
Javi didn't let go of your wrist, he looked into your eyes, searching for some kind of breach he could find affection or softness but there was nothing.
"No, you can't leave, I'll mi-"
"If you miss me you can just call that hooker I met the other night, she looks a lot like me, you won't even notice the difference"
You turned your back to him and walked away, leaving Javier standing there, watching you slip away from him even further.
•••
Your first day in the crime division started out great just by the fact you didn't have to see Colleen's stupid face. You didn't know why you began hating the woman, she hadn't done anything to you, in fact she'd always been kind of nice and very polite. But then, a memory hit you: the day Javier complimented her nails and how every week after that she would show up with a different nail polish, in hopes he'd pay attention to her again. Every time he took a coffee break she would be there, lingering around like a ghost until she would find a pathetic excuse to go and talk to him.
Then she would laugh too hard at his dumb jokes and would place her hand on his bicep, pretending it was an innocent touch.
You groaned annoyed at the sudden memory and at the fact you were actually caring about that, when you were literally not seeing them again. Of course you could still run into them in the building, and mostly run into Javier in your apartment building, but you would have a break from them from 9 to 5 and that was a good enough reason to be happy.
You shook your head clearing your mind and telling yourself you were just anxious about working in a new division. Of course your tasks would be the same, but out go Escobar's files and files and in come other police occurrences such as thefts and physical aggressions, mostly coming from drunk guys who always got into fights with each other, or so you've told.
You were so distracted you didn't see a tall figure approaching you, you only felt that figure when you bumped into him and almost lost your balance thanks to your high heels you put on earlier in the morning trying to cause a good impression.
Of course you never hit the ground because the figure held by the waist, preventing you from falling.
"Lo siento, señorita" he said and helped you up.
And then you looked at the mysterious figure.
He was taller than you, strong and had beautiful brown eyes. Not like Javi's, Javier's eyes were from a deep brown, they made you think of chocolate, hot chocolate in a cold morning to be more specific, but this guy… his eyes were light brown, the kind of color that shifts according to the lights of the room, making them even greenish, and the eyelashes were pretty long for a man, giving him an expressive look.
You were lost in his eyes. You fell for the stranger's eyes right there and then and your heart raced when you noticed he had his hand on your waist.
"You must be Y/N, I'm agent Manuel Herrera, but you can call me Manu if you want" he gave you a smile and you smiled back.
Manu explained you he was the one who was supposed to welcome you in the division but he ran late after a new case came up.
You assured him it was fine and thanked him when he led you to your desk, helping you empty your box and organize your working material.
"You know, Y/N, news travels fast here and we all know what happened to Carlos and rumor has it you were responsible for it" he saw how you blushed and though you didn't deny or nor confirm it, he could tell rumor was true. "Well, I just want you to say we are all relieved he's not around anymore, he was an unpleasant guy and especially the ladies in the office really appreciated what you did… or what you didn't do" he winked at you and excused himself.
And just like that, you realized you had a crush on Manu.
It happened fast, but it was so refreshing to know you could move on, you could get interested in other guys. He was nice, smart, painfully handsome and for the first time since you arrived in Colombia you hadn't thought of Javier's whereabouts or felt a pang of jealousy to wonder if he would pick up a girl at a bar for the night or just call a brothel and have his fuck delivered like chinese food.
After the first week, Manu gathered enough courage to invite you for lunch, he assumed you would just hang out from the DEA people, but when he saw you were about to stay at your desk during your lunch break, he invited you out.
First, he decided to take you to a small restaurant down the street, the food was good, the price was reasonable but having his company was better.
Then, the next day, he took you to a small place that sold the best arepas you'd eaten in your whole life.
Turns out, Javier really liked Arepas and he decided to have some for lunch, but when he was about to step inside he saw you had another guy. He thought he'd seen the man before but he couldn't remember exactly when, he knew he was a cop, but he just hadn't paid attention, unlike you who had been clearly paying a lot of attention to him.
Javi felt his blood boiling at how beautiful you looked when you smiled at him and kept telling him whatever you were so passionately talking about. He hadn't seen you since the day at the Embassy, of course he'd caught glimpses of you leaving the building or arriving when he was still in his car. He'd heard you at home, dragging your furniture around for your monthly clean up, or when you put on some record and probably spent the evening singing along. The smell of your cooking almost every damn night taunting him but none of that was worse than when he caught just a whiff of your perfume in the hallway.
It was the worst part to him, because it reminded him you were still there, across the hall, a few meters away from him, and yet you were no longer in his life. As if you were just a memory, a ghost of his past, you were so out of reach it broke his heart.
And when he saw you smiling at that guy just like you used to smile at him, it gutted him.
He turned around before either of you could spot him and walked back to his car.
Javier couldn't believe that. You were really going on lunch dates with that guy? Sure he was attractive, he figured, but didn't you like him? Then why were you out with that guy?
It just didn't make sense to him, he didn't want to believe you'd actually move on from him. Javi hadn't really thought of the future, he knew the healthiest for you would actually move on, you deserved someone good for you, someone who could make you happy, who could treat you like you deserved being treated, someone that could give you a relationship where you loved and you were loved, where you could trust your partner, where you could have a family, get married, have kids, not someone who would screw things up in the first opportunity.
But it stung.
Javier had no idea it would sting that bad. Saying had always been easier than doing, and while he kept that protective speech over you, things were alright, but the moment the possibility of it becoming true was presented before his eyes, god, that hurt.
He was at a loss of actions, he didn't know what to do or what to say. The rest of the afternoon he spent off his game, with Murphy having to repeat himself over and over, Javi asking the same questions, dropping his pen, fuck, he even spilled his coffee once. Because all he could think of was you.
He decided to leave early and wait around until it was time for you to go home, feeling a pang in his chest when he spotted the guy, Manu, he soon afterwards learned, walking you home.
He hated that scene but he also couldn't look away, you seemed so happy, you talked and smiled like you hadn't done it for months, like you hadn't done since he screwed things up.
And for the next few days that was what his routine turned into.
Javier would wake up early and watch you go to work, then he would take the stairs to the lower floor when it was lunchtime and watch from afar as you and Manu went for lunch together, then when you would come back, usually with a popsicle or a lollipop in hands, a treat he always got you for dessert. On the weekends he would watch through the window as you went out, knowing you were out to meet him. It was a habit that was consuming him, it left a bitter taste in his mouth, it was like smoking a cigarette, no matter how harmful it was to him, he just couldn't stop.
He only convinced himself it was time to let go when he saw Manu kissing your lips in front of the apartment building. He wanted to yell, to drag you away from him, to make you understand you shouldn't be with that guy, you should be with him, but he couldn't. There was nothing he could do about it, he had lost you for good, he knew that, so he grabbed his wallet, his car keys and drove downtown. He parked in front of the brothel he knew so well and walked to the reception.
"Quiero a Mari y solamente a ella esta noche" he commanded, not wasting time in being polite or flirty. He wanted a service, and it wasn't cheap, so he wasn't going to pretend he was a nice guy. He wasn't one.
Mari showed up about fifteen minutes after, she had just washed her body and smiled at him with fiery eyes, walking to the man and kissing his lips.
There she was, the version of you he could actually have, all he had to do was pay for it. She resembled you, you both had a similar body type, similar hair and if he got intoxicated enough, he could close his eyes and pretend he had your body against his.
"Vamos cariño, voy a llamarte de Y/N hoy" he whispered into her ear, pretending it was your neck he kissed.
As they were both in the room, Javi sat on the bed and pulled her to his lap, kissing her and burying his face between her breasts.
But she didn't smell like you, she didn't feel like you, and no matter how hard he tried focusing and thinking of the night you'd kissed him, nothing happened.
Javi gasped and looked down ashamed and then back at the woman, who got off him and didn't say anything. He ran his hands through his hair as he groaned in sheer frustration, he just couldn't get hard.
She even tried to get him to action, but it wasn't happening, Javi was dragged each time to your kiss with Manu. How he cupped you cheek and kissed your lips at the same time you his tugged the hem of his shirt and pulled hid body closer to yours.
Javier left the brothel livid, he'd paid for the service he couldn't get and smoked a cigarette on the street, blaming it on you and that man for everything bad that was happening to him.
•••
On Monday you separated a couple of files that had been sent to the wrong department and got ready to take the elevator and go to upper floor. Ever since you started dating Manu, you felt more confident about yourself and seeing Javier wasn't necessarily a problem. You knew you'd made things pretty clear between the two of you and of course Colleen being the envious puta she was, spread the news you were seeing a coworker to everybody, it wouldn't surprise you if even Pablo's sicarios knew about your relationship.
It wasn't the first time documents had been misplaced and all you had to do was to leave them on Murphy's desk and return, so you wanted to get things over with.
You passed by Colleen without giving her the time of the day, she annoyed you in a way it was beyond words and you always preferred to think she didn't exist.
"Y/N!" She called a couple of times, making you stop and turn around "Steve and Javi aren't here, so just you know…" you gritted your teeth and faked a smile.
"Thank you for your great service Colleen" you said and kept walking.
Your threw the files on Murphy's desk and couldn't help but glance at Carlos' old desk. As you'd heard, apparently no one had been hired or promoted to take over his job, instead, all of his investigation and internal job was assigned to both Murphy and Peña.
There was a time you would've probably got a great part of it, so you would help them with the ridiculous amount of work coming in, but that time was gone and now you didn't have to take over anyone's jobs, just doing your own and worrying about leaving work in time to meet your handsome Manu.
However, you noticed some files and a big yellow envelope on his desk. You looked around and saw the department was almost completely empty as it was almost time for the end of the shift.
You didn't know exactly why you got so curious and let alone why you began fumbling through those documents that certainly didn't concern you. But the yellow envelope dragged your attention in a way you just felt attracted to it, as if your intuition was telling you to check it.
You battled with yourself whether you should open it or not.
Correction: you shouldn't open it and you knew it, but for whatever reason you were so curious about it and all you could read was 'CARLOS' written in capital letters, in red ink. You told yourself it would be fine, just some intel from whoever Carlos' informant was. Worst case scenario it would be something boring and you would just leave it on Steve's desk.
So you took another glance around the room to make sure no one was watching you and opened the envelope, gasping at the content inside.
After the stressful meeting with Messina, both Javi and Steve were in low spirits, Connie still hadn't returned and the American agent had no motivation or reason to be home early, so he invited Javier for a few drinks. However, Javi wasn't in the mood for that. He was tired, stressed and the days seemed to be dragging on. He felt lonely and the less thing that still brought him some pleasure was a delicate matter as he hadn't been able to get hard for any women.
Sure, he could still rub one off thinking of Y/N, but each time he tried doing it with a woman, it felt like he had some kind of block that wouldn't let him go further.
He dropped Steve off at the bar and drove home, shrugging at the idea Y/N was probably out with her boyfriend on a cute date he'd rather think, because it was way more comforting than picturing you sucking another man's cock.
He looked at your table and thought of knocking on it, maybe just to see you, hear your voice, but he immediately gave up.
He got his key but frowned when he noticed his door was unlocked, which was alarming as Javier was sure he'd locked the door before. He immediately got his gun, getting inside silently and walking around, checking every dark corner for threats or unpleasant surprises.
Javier went speechless to find you sitting on his couch. It took him a moment to process how the fuck you got inside, but then you remembered how you two had exchanged spair keys to your apartments and completely forgot about it.
He was about to question you, when he heard your sniffs and saw you were crying. He went completely soft and walked to you.
"Y/N" he whispered and knelt in front of you, concern flooding through his body as he cupped your cheek and stroke it so gently. He wiped your tears with his thumb and you only then realized how big his hands really were.
You shook your head and looked into his eyes, disappointment shattering your heart as you gathered the courage to speak.
"What happened, cariño? Talk to me? Was it your boyfriend? Did he hurt you? Carlos?" He asked as he stared at your with the biggest warmest brown eyes you'd ever seen.
You handed him the envelope and watched as Javi emptied it on his coffee table.
"Los Pepes, Javier?" You finally asked, as you both stared at pictures of him meeting up at a bar with one of the group's sicarios.
"Since when you've been a double agent, Javi? Is all this a lie? How long have you been lying to the DEA? To me?" You asked him, and the disappointment in your voice just ripped his heart apart. You thought he was a dirty cop, he shook his head, feeling despair spread through his body as he looked for words to explain to you the mess he got himself into.
But took his hand away from your face and wiped your tears.
"After everything that went on between us, I thought that at least you were a good cop, Javi… I thought at least you would keep safe, but once again, I see I'm wrong" you swallowed.
Javier couldn't handle you being that disappointed in him, it broke his heart and he just couldn't live with you hating him as a whole.
He ran to you, pressing you against the wall and using his own body to trap you. He looked at you and buried his face in the crook of you neck, taking in your intoxicating perfume, his nose ghosting against your skin before you could feel his lips on it.
He mumbled something under his breath but you couldn't actually understand, you tried using your arms to break free from his grip, but his kept yours in place.
He looked at you as he dragged his face over your cleavage, just in the curve of your breasts he buried his face again, spreading small kisses all over your skin, he pulled your blouse down exposing your cleavage a little more and kissed your breasts gently.
You were taken aback by his soft, gentle and desperate touch. Your body felt on fire but you needed to fight that urge of submitting to him.
"I-I'm not gonna tell anyone, Javier. I promise" your voice was weak but you finally pushed him away the moment he got distracted when he tasted your skin gently and panted.
"I'm not a dirty cop, Y/N. I'm not" he said looking just as broken and you realized that was what he was mumbling against your neck, against your breasts. Javier was lost, when you finally fled his apartment. He sat back on his couch, after pouring himself a scotch. He spent hours staring into the void. There was nothing he could do to win you back. He had lost everything, but most importantly, he'd lost you.
_____
A/N pt1: this last scene wasn't planned at all. I don't know what happened, I just started writing the end and it popped into my mind and I had to do it.
A/N pt2: yes, I named Javier's hooker after myself lmaof
A/N pt3: face claim for agent Manu Herrera is mexican actor Alfonso Herrera
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eu-nicola · 9 months
Text
Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader
summary: you had met the man your friend was with but you certainly liked him too
warnings: Age-Gap / Infidelity
sorry english isn’t my first language
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You met him through one of your best friends, that day you were both in a meeting where he was also present, at first he didn’t call your attention and you didn’t even call his attention since at the end of that night your friend Jean was already sleeping with him. You weren’t interested in him at all and when she told you that she would keep you left the place and headed home.
Although you were a few years younger, in the same way, your intelligence and the curiosity that you felt for things that had not yet been discovered was what made you stand out, you loved to know and investigate, you had always been a curious person and there was nothing better than being the first and that made you work twice as hard, perhaps triple, to always discover new things. After that night you met Oppenheimer you began to spend more time with him sharing your theories and his.
It was interesting for him to see how you worried about things and how you saw what others didn’t, but apart from that nothing happened, sometimes you saw him go to Jean’s house to bring her flowers which she rejected asking him not to look for her more but actually she called him hoping he wouldn’t answer but as always he did. She was your friend but you knew the dependency she was creating for that man was as if she couldn’t breathe and needed him anyway but she wanted him to be there.
When Oppenheimer found out that he was going to be a father with another woman he was the first to tell Jean so that she would not find out from anyone else, at that moment they decided that despite this they would not separate but now she was so broken inside knowing that now he would get married that she didn’t know how to deal with it and was only left with the fact that at least she had him in some way.
During all that time you continued sharing your time with him and they even came to the conclusion of some things after testing the theories they shared, their minds worked as one and from there things came out that no one in this world could understand, only God.
Sometimes the line of professionalism seemed to disappear between both when you shared fleeting caresses or when he was so close to you that you could feel his breath on your skin, although there was a certain voice in your head that used to advise you, you didn’t listen to it and you liked this closeness that you had with him, feeling him close felt good and you wanted to experience more of this.
A month before his wife’s delivery you found out that he had told Jean that they were not coming back and that made you spend days with your friend until she recovered a bit, those days you had not seen Robert nor had you warned why you didn’t go, a week later when you came back you found out that all this time he had been calling you but since you weren’t at home you hadn’t been able to answer at any time. You’re glad to know that he cares about you even if he was strictly professional.
Now that Jean was not with him he seemed closer to you and it didn’t bother you, but that doesn’t mean that you felt good about what you were doing, you knew that you loved this man because of the way you connected but didn’t you knew if you should move on and get more from him or just stay where you were and accept the fact that you only worked together.
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Note
So you know the Chinese saying that once you've saved a person's life, you're responsible for them forever? where after the reader saves Dream, Dream keeps appearing expecting the reader to take care of him and be responsible for him in a variety of situations and moments. Bonus Points: Dream doesn't exactly explain anything to the reader. Those are the old laws, the reader should be aware of what he was doing when he decided to reach out and save him and that was it.
ANOTHER BONUS: this is why no one rescued Dream— NO ONE WANTED THIS AN INFINITE LIMIT FOR THEM IN SUCH A WAY
Why Are You Here?
Dream of the Endless x Reader
Summary: You accidentally saved the King of Dreams from his century old prison, now he's your everyday nightmare (affectionate).
Word Count: >900
Warnings: Gender neutral!reader, clingy!Dream, jealous!dream, fluff, typos, etc.
A/N: I think I am now finally able to write requests again 🥲🫶 slay for me Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9 @sloanexx
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I wiped my face as I looked at the clock at the bottom right of my computer screen. I huffed and leaned back on my office chair, twirling myself around as I waited for my file to upload.
One.
Two.
Three twirls in.
Suddenly, I stop in a panic when a dark figure manifests in front of me.
I cling onto the side of my desk and jump out of my chair, "Dream, what are you-"
"I was unable to procure the results we had last time we baked, and I came to tell-"
I grab his arms and frantically look around my office, "what did I tell you about manifesting yourself in inappropriate settings?"
Dream looks down at me with his eyes as I look past him on both sides of his arms. His brows faintly furrow, "this is not an inappropriate setting. You are fully dressed and I am-"
"That is not what-" I quip, pinching my fingers together. I sigh as I look at the befumbled entity, his galactic blue eyes glassed with an innocent incapacity to understand he was not meant to be suddenly in my place of work. I grab his biceps and push him back.
I begin to lead him to the bathroom with our linked arms, "I can't answer your baking questions right now," I look around the room, "also, didn't we establish you should only come to me if you were in actual trouble."
He mumbles, placing a hand on my arm that was linked with his, "my cake did not rise."
I turn to him, "Dream-"
"You told me baking could alleviate my sorrow. It has done nothing but frustrate further. I would think you should bare some responsibility for the fact."
I grunt as I stop in my tracks. I pull away to cross my arms, "did you follow the recipe you have?"
Dream looks back at me, "to the best of my capacity."
"Then I don't know what to tell you," I mutter, shrugging, "I can't really see what you did-"
"Precisely why," he takes my hand, "you should come to the Dreaming with me."
I look around the room and give him an incredulous expression. I whisper-yell, "I'm working right now."
Dream steps forward. His face solemn, "I will make sure no one will notice."
Shutter.
Dream and I snap to the side. Behold, there stood my nosy co-worker, Liam, one hand holding a smoothie, and another holding up a phone, camera pointed at us.
Fuck.
"Liam," I pull away from Dream.
"I didn't take a photo of you," he immediately says, "I took a selfie." He begins to pose and take a photo of himself.
"Liar," Dream retorts with an echo, not having to open his mouth.
I look around the room when the lights flicker because of this.
Liam reacts to it, extremely on edge as he too looks around the room.
I release a breath, thinking of an excuse as to explain why this unknown man dressed for a funeral and I were talking. I look at Dream. Maybe I could say he was going to a funreal?
"So," Liam starts, shaking his head, "who's this?"
"This is..." I start, turning to Liam, "Murphy."
"Murphy?" Liam squints at the Lord Morpheus, "you don't look like a Murphy."
Dream does not respond.
Liam sips on his smoothie before pulling it abruptly away, shaking his phone, "oh I know who this is!" He points repeatedly at me, "this is they guy that has been sending you flowers!"
"No."
"What?"
Dream and I said this at the same time.
Dream turns to me, as I grab his arm and push past Liam, "good talk, Liam. Murphy has to go now."
I sigh as I lead him to the exit, "I was going to make you disappear through the bathroom, but then Liam caught us together."
He makes a sound, "do you not want me to be seen by this person who sends you flowers?"
"What?" I turn to Dream, "that was a mistake in delivery. It was for Abigail. She recently got married-- but I mean you already know that."
"I do," he mutters.
I shake my head, "Liam made a big deal out of it, like he does everything."
"Would you like to do something about Liam?"
I exit our office and drag Dream towards the elevator, "I would like for you never to suddenly pop up here again."
I watch him pout and furrow his brows, "but you are my person," he replies. He stops us both in our tracks, "the old laws bind us together."
I sigh and nod as I walk off and repeatedly press on the elevator button, "I know! I know. The old laws that even you have to answer to."
Dream's face hardens, his posture falls, "is my presence such a nuisance to you?"
"Morpheus," I sigh, "It's not your presence," I reply, "it's the fact you're at my job," I mumble, "my job that I worked so hard to get and would make me spiral if I lost."
I turn from the elevator doors to Dream as he straightens up, "it was not my intention to cause you distress."
I nod, "I know," I place a hand on his arm, "and you're both kind of really cute for this, and super annoying."
The elevator doors open. I motion for Dream to enter. When he does, I smile at him and wave goodbye. He looks and raises his hand, "I will redo my cake in a manner in which will impress you."
I chuckle, "I look forward to trying it."
He presses his lips into a smile, "farewell."
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ecoamerica · 24 days
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youtube
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queenshelby · 6 months
Text
Our Little Secret (Part 14)
Pairing: Dark! Cillian Murphy x Virgin! Reader
Warning: Infidelity, Brief Mention of Stillbirth
Notes: This will not be a love story. It will be dark, twisted and kinky. Cillian is portrayed as totally off cannon.
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Over the past few weeks, Cillian struggled quite significantly with the fact that he had lost his wife Danielle and Max, the young boy he did not father but whom he considered to be his son. Cillian also struggled with the fact that he had, under the directions of his sister and lawyer Siobhan, cut all ties with you.
She believed that continuing any form of relationship with you would only serve to harm his reputation in court and jeopardize his chance of winning some form of access rights over Max who she now knew was not Cillian's biological son. 
"When she called, did she say how she was?" Cillian asked, referring to the phone call Siobhan took on his phone. The person who had called was you but Siobhan refused to hand Cillian the phone but, instead, told you to not call Cillian again.
She warned you about calling ever again, stating that doing so would result in receiving a cease-and-desist order from her office. Stunned and confused, you hung up the phone with little knowledge of how to handle the complicated situation you now faced. Not only were you pregnant with Cillian's baby, but you also had been ordered to avoid any contact with him due to the potential fallout. 
"Siobhan, how is she?" Cillian asked again since his sister did not respond to his question the first time around.
"Did she seem alright, on the phone?" he wanted to know and this question caught Siobhan off guard slightly, prompting her to shift in her seat uneasily. She too did not know that you were pregnant and responded sternly to her brother's query.
She hesitated briefly, choosing her words carefully. "She was fine. Stop caring about her, Cillian," she told him but Cillian couldn't help but worry.
"Danielle sent her to hospital, so of course I care," he retorted, causing Siobhan to sigh.
"Yes she did, because you fucked her, in your marital bed," Siobhan blurted out vehemently. "Y/N did not bring a charge against Danielle and, thus far, Danielle hasn't mentioned Y/N's existence in court. We will want to keep it this way. No one needs to know about your affair with a 19-year old woman!" Siobhan barked furiously, slamming her palm onto the table in frustration. She understood that Cillian was deeply troubled and struggling with his own demons, but bringing such scandal into light may cause irreparable damage to his image - not to mention risking the legal case against his ex-wife Danielle. 
"I know. I fucked up, okay?" Cillian confessed, finally admitting his guilt. It felt good to get it off his chest, though it did nothing to alleviate the weight pressing down on his shoulders. His family was falling apart, leaving him broken and unable to fully process the painful truth. 
"But my brother and his wife kicked her out. That's at least what Paddy told me. And I want to know if she is doing okay. That's all," Cillian persisted firmly, refusing to let go of his concern for you.
Siobhan looked at her brother, irritated by his determination to cling onto feelings for you.
"Y/N is fine. Now leave it alone, Cillian," she commanded, standing up to assert herself more clearly. "You aren't in love with her, are you?" his sister questioned worriedly.
Cillian swallowed hard, contemplating his answer. "No... no, I am not. But I do feel responsible for helping her, especially given our circumstances," he admitted honestly, recognizing the gravity of the situation you were entangled in. Siobhan's eyes narrowed suspiciously, sensing something deeper behind her brother's words.
"And why do you think that is?" she pressed gently, seeking  clarification and Cillian bit his lip, still unsure himself. 
"Maybe because she is young. She is only nineteen and she is family," Cillian explained sheepishly, casting his gaze away from his sister's judgmental stare.  
"And yet, this didn't deter you from having sex with her now, did it?" Siobhan continued her accusatory approach, shaking her head disapprovingly. "Of course not! You just think with your cock, don't you?" she spat derisively. 
Her response struck Cillian speechless, causing his face to flush red with embarrassment and shame. Even in the heat of passion, he could never imagine things would escalate to this level. 
"As I said, getting involved with her was a mistake
." Cillian murmured, looking downwards to avoid eye contact. His heart pounded heavily in his chest, feeling guilty and ashamed. What he was thinking of doing wasn't right and he knew that deep down, however much his desire consumed him.
In contrast, Siobhan showed no remorse, remaining unwaveringly firm in her convictions. "Well, then you need to fix this mess. And stop talking to her. She doesn't matter, anymore" Siobhan demanded harshly, her eyes cold and unforgiving and Cillian promised her not to enquire any further until, another two weeks later, and much to Siobhan's surprise, Danielle brought your name up in court. 
This unexpected development threw everyone into chaos as this affair between him and you put him into an extremely bad light.
For someone whose career revolved primarily around his strong public persona, it seemed like a death sentence for Cillian's career as well as his court case and, with that, Siobhan's instructions suddenly changed.
She had to go into damage control and, in order to make Cillian look any better to the public and the judge, she now encouraged him to get you to take the stand and talk about the fact that Danielle had pushed you down the stairs.
Siobhan hoped that presenting evidence of violence perpetrated by Cillian’s estranged wife might discredit claims made during their divorce proceedings, painting Cillian in a somewhat sympathetic light amidst these allegations surrounding his sexual tryst with you.
"So, after almost six weeks now, you want me to call her? Seriously?" Cillian exclaimed incredulously, raising his eyebrows in shock. He hadn't expected this turn of events, particularly coming from his sister. The mere thought of you taking the witness stand filled him with anxiety.
"Yes. Now that Danielle brought up the affair with her, she needs to tell everyone about the assault so that I can make sure that the judge knows that Danielle isn't capable to have sole custody for Max," Siobhan
reasoned reluctantly. She understood the importance of providing evidence in court to support her client's argument, even when it meant potentially damaging her brother's already precarious reputation.
Cillian nodded solemnly, knowing full well that there was little choice left for them. With everything spiralling out of control, they had to rely on your testimony. "Alright, but she might say no. I ignored her for six weeks and now that I need her help, I am actually calling her. It is an asshole move," Cillian muttered bitterly beneath his breath, resentfully picking up his cellphone. His fingers trembled slightly as he dialed your number, anticipation building inside him. Would you agree to testify? How much had this whole mess affected you? So many questions flooded his brain, weighing heavy upon his heart.
"Hello?" Your voice sounded cautious over the line, uncertainty evident in its tone. You were surprised by Cillian's call and wondered whether he had found out about your pregnancy.
"What do you want?" you thus asked after he simply said "hi" but nothing else as you were trying to hide your fear.
Cillian cleared his throat nervously before speaking. "Look, Y/N, I realize I acted badly towards you recently, but please understand that my life has become quite complicated lately," he began sincerely. 
"Well, so has mine and whilst I wanted to talk with you about it, your sister shut me off," you countered, your voice growing angrier. 
Your hostility took Cillian aback momentarily, but he steeled himself, deciding to remain composed despite your barbed remarks. "I know, but her intentions weren't malicious; believe me," he pleaded earnestly.
There was genuine desperation in his voice, hoping that you would forgive him eventually, but you simply couldn't. 
"I don't care Cillian," you snapped sharply, your temper flaring quickly. "All you ever wanted was to use me – both emotionally and physically. And once shit hit the fan, you discarded me without any second thoughts," you yelled through the phone, unable to hold back your anger any longer. "I needed you in the past few weeks because, not only was I kicked out of my family's home, I also found out that I am pregnant," you revealed, fighting back tears.
This revelation caught him completely off guard, leaving him reeling. He paused for several seconds, processing this news. Then, he spoke slowly, "You are what?" Cillian repeated, barely able to register your startling announcement. He struggled to maintain composure, his thoughts racing wildly.
"I am pregnant," you confirmed again, allowing the enormity of the statement to sink in.
Cillian's entire world came crashing down around him as he realized that, somehow, the nights he spent with you resulted in a child growing inside of you. This wasn't how he intended things to happen, but here they were, a result of their recklessness and ignorance. 
"Am I the father?" Cillian hesitated briefly, attempting to compose himself. However, you cut him off mid-sentence, responding impassionedly, "Of course you are the fucking father. I never slept with anyone else and you should know that!" 
You vehemently defended yourself, adding insult to injury. "But don't worry, I am booked in for a termination procedure next week. Problem solved!" you said and the cruelty of those words cut deeply into Cillian's heart. All that time he had been selfishly obsessed with his own wants and desires, failing to consider the potential consequences - including yours. Realization dawned on him gradually, hitting him squarely in the face like a sledgehammer.
"Please wait… No, Y/N. Don't terminate. We will sort this out together," he implored urgently, panic creeping into his voice.
You fell silent, taken aback by his sudden change of attitude.
"Are you fucking serious? You want me to keep the baby?" you asked skeptically, astonished at the idea.
Cillian couldn't believe what he heard either. Was this truly happening? "Yes, I know it's asking a lot, but give me a chance to figure this out," he replied earnestly, attempting to convey his sincerity in wanting to be part of this child's life.
Your brow furrowed with confusion, "You are insane, Cillian! Why would you ask me to keep this child? I just finished school, and the last thing I need is more responsibility. Not only that, I haven't spoken to my mother since all this happened. I have no money. No permanent housing. No career," you argued vehemently, frustrated with the prospect of carrying a baby conceived outside a relationship. 
Cillian listened intently, struggling to find the right words to assuage your concerns. 
"I will take full financial responsibility if you decide to carry the baby to term and I can take care of the our child whenever you need me to. Every day even. I will buy you a house. I'll pay for anything you need," Cillian offered determinedly, clutching onto hope. 
"Cillian, I am not ready to be a parent," you retorted, still clearly angry and hurt.
"Then let me have the child," he persisted gently, understanding your apprehension.
"What?" you asked, confused. Could Cillian really provide for everything you need and want? You didn't trust him, but something about his offer felt...different. Maybe it was his insistence, maybe it was his determination, or perhaps, it could have been the hint of vulnerability in his voice that gave you pause.
After a long silence, you finally answered, "Listen, I think we should meet and talk about this in person. You clearly lost the plot." 
Cillian agreed readily, relieved that you seemed open to discussion. "Whenever suits you, just let me know." There was hopeful expectation in his voice.
All he ever wanted was a family but, when him and Danielle tried to have a child together, it never happened. She never carried to term and, after that, she never fell pregnant again. Perhaps their DNA was simply not compatible  and, according to the specialists, he was the one to blame.
In the end, Danielle had a child with another man and Cillian loved this child as if he was his own. This child's name was Max and Max was Cillian's world. From then onwards, Cillian dedicated himself fully to raising Max, making it a priority to ensure that his son knew he adored him.
He knew that he could do the same for this child, the one you were now carrying inside you. The child that was his.
Cillian couldn't believe it was true. Here was a possibility, albeit unexpected, to rectify some of the mistakes he made earlier. After all the wrong turns he took throughout his journey, he hoped this situation could lead him closer to becoming the kind of father he always wished to be. The irony was striking, considering he initially sought comfort elsewhere. But now, fate was presenting him with a unique opportunity—one which held unimaginable weight. He had to make this right and was determined to  do whatever it takes.
Tags:
@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn
@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts
@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter
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pinguwrites · 6 months
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Hey idk if your requests are still open, if not then please disregard this, but can I request a dark fic where older dilf cillian is tied to a chair and the reader uses his dick (noncon) to “milk him of his babies” to get themselves pregnant, and he is like nono please don’t get pregnant but he can’t do anything about it? Thank you 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻😫😫😫😮‍💨
i creamed my pants reading this
Drabble: You milk Cillian of his babies
Pairing -> sub!cillian murphy x dark!reader
Warnings: NON-CON, DARK!, sub!cillian, breeding kink, dark!reader, age-gap (cillian's early fourties, reader's early twenties), next door neighbor!cillian, drugging, implied they met when reader was underage, use of little girl and good boy, slapping, hair pulling, biting
Disclaimer: This is not a reflection of Cillian Murphy's actual life. This is completely separate and is not intended to harm him or his family in any way. DNI if you're a Yvonne hater. This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.
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Cillian Murphy didn't think that you were capable of this—his sweet next door neighbor, that innocent little girl who used to cling to him like a shadow, the one that asked for help with homework, the one that had now drugged and tied him to a chair, hands and legs bound, as you rode him to no end.
"You're getting older," you mused as Cillian cried. "Gotta do it now."
The sensation was too much for him to handle. He’d thought about it before, much to his shame, but not like this. Not you stealing orgasm after orgasm out of him, biting his neck and pulling his hair, with a wicked smile that made him feel like he was being tortured by the devil herself.
“Please,” Cillian whined, trying to squirm away from the pain and pleasure. “Please don’t do this, I can’t get you pregnant—fuck!—you’re too young.”
He could feel another orgasm coming. He was secretly hoping that you were on birth control this entire time, that this was all a cruel prank, but he knew deep down that you were serious.
You were raping him. You wanted him to breed you.
"I only did it cause you want it," you snapped, giving Cillian a light slap. “Mmm,” you tossed your head back as you bounced, “saw the way you looked at me. Dirty old man. Wonder what people will think when they see me carrying your child.”
Cillian shook his head. “No, no, no. You have to get off. I can’t. I can’t.”
“You can. I’m probably pregnant already.”
“Then stop,” he begged. “Stop it. Take—take the ropes off. I won’t be mad, I promise.”
“We’re not done yet,” you moaned. “Oh, Cilly! Need’a take your cum, every last fucking drop.”
"P-please, I can't take it anymore.” He felt like he was about to collapse. He couldn’t keep up with your stamina. “Jus' a little break,” he pleaded.
“Tired?” you teased.
“Yes.”
“I guess I’m too much for you.” You laughed. “You better get used to this.”
Your face fell once you noticed tears streaming down his cheeks. “No, don’t cry.” You wiped them away. “Don’t you love me?”
Cillian felt like he was backed into a corner. Why was he still feeling soft towards you? He should be angry—livid, even. But he couldn’t, not towards his little girl.
“I do.”
“And you’ll be there for our child? You’ll marry me, right?”
"Yeah," Cillian whimpered, feeling his cock twitch inside of you. "You know I will. I'll always take care of you.” Even as you hurt him, took advantage of him, he couldn’t help his feelings.
"Good boy,” you said, a pleased look on your face. “I’m so lucky you’re mine. Now—stay still, stop wiggling, and let me milk your cock.”
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Taglist:
@henrywintersdearestgirl
@shroombloom-rry
@meetmeatyourworst
@mrkdvidal1989
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rooftopbeliver · 9 months
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‘dangerously yours’ .ೃ࿐ ❝prologue❞
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┊ ➶ 。˚   ° cillian murphy x f! reader
. . .
Y/N HAS A ONE DREAM since her childhood. she wanted to do something for her great-grandmother, even if she is no longer in this world. she wanted to thank her for her motivation and inspiration to be an actress. her great-grandmother was a fantastic woman who didn’t care about opinions; she was doing everything she wanted to. inga — because that was her name — wanted to be an actress, but nobody wanted her, but she didn't lose hope. gladly, one day she was asked by vicks matinee theatre to be the main ‘actress’ in every sunday’s afternoon broadcast streaming on radio called ‘dangerously yours’. of course, she said yes to this.
inga’s voice was in every episode, but she never played the same character. that was also why she loved that show so much. the stories were always so romantic but also dramatic and adventurous. it was harder than just acting in movies because you needed to express all of your emotions just with your voice because listeners didn’t see your face. but she loved doing it; it was her comfort show. they recorded sixteen episodes, but today people can find only thirteen of them.
y/n loved to listen to this show as a kid because it was the only memory she had of her great-grandmother. she was in love with inga’s voice and her expression skills. when y/n turned twelve and was more aware of what she wanted to do in the future, she started to write a script inspired by ‘dangerously yours’. of course, it wasn’t the best because she was just a child, but she was proud of the idea, and she dreamed of a movie based on this broadcast. she wanted to produce it. and this dream has been with her to date.
. . .
when y/n turned sixteen, she started to take her ‘job’ more seriously; she even had a list of actors she wanted to see in her show. she has an actor for every role, but she still doesn’t have a main male character. she has known so many great actors, but nobody has really matched her ideal. then she started to watch with her mother a new series ‘peaky blinders’ and she saw him. cillian murphy he was her ideal for this role (maybe not just for a role). eight years have passed since then, and she still wants cillian in her production. she was watching every movie he appeared in; she knew that only he would play this character like she wanted to.
when she finished high school, she went to acting school. she felt alive when she was acting; she loved it, and she had stronger motivation to make her dreams come true. she knew that she could make it happen. her teachers said that she is a great actress, and she just thanked her great-grandmother for that because she was an inspiration when she was performing. after finishing her acting studies, she started to learn how to write a script more professionally because she wanted everything to be perfect. it needs to be perfect.
. . .
now we are in 2021, and her dream has started to come true. with her mother's help, she found the director who wanted to make this show, and she started working with professional people who knew how to do a good movie and how to have all the actors from her list here, and everything seems to be working. almost every actor loved the idea for the plot and agreed to play in this show; the only actor that didn’t answer was cillian murphy. the man she needed the most in this production was him; without him, she didn’t want this series because nobody else would play the main character as he did. but she didn’t lose hope; she just patiently waited for him to answer the proposal.
the music for the movie she had since 2016, and she couldn’t be happier when lana del rey accepted the offer to do a few songs for this show. y/n thinks that she was perfect for this, and she couldn’t imagine any other person doing half of the soundtrack but lana. y/n cannot believe that her dream was just coming true, that all the plans she made as a kid worked, and that she is about to do a series with real and popular actors; it was just too perfect.
she was happy, of course, but still, she didn’t have cillian as a main character, and just at the moment when she was about to search for another man to play this character, her casting producer walked into her room with a big smile.
“cillian agreed to play this role”
- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ thank you for attention!! ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
note: i hope that you will love this series. im so excited for this and i hope you are too!
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pedropascallme · 8 months
Note
u said u are always looking for a reason to write jim smut so let me deliver bc i’m actually so fixated on this movie it’s CRAZYYY!!!!! anyways i would like like a build up to a confession kind of? like there’s so so much romantic and sexual tension and it just like breaks and yeah😭😭 idk if that makes any sense but yk!! ok thank u so much!!! you are amazing dude
In Our Perfect Present Tense
Pairing: Jim x f!Reader
Summary: "And where had this sudden, deep infatuation with Jim come into play? Was it sudden?"
Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), p in v, fingering, praise kink, Jim can be soft!dom if I say so!! Allusions to canon typical violence, I know Cillian Murphy is 5'8 but Jim is 6'2 in my mind, if I missed anything please let me know!!
AN: Max you make my heart go badumbadumbadumbadum (good) I hope this is to your liking <3 Also continuing to cross tag my Cillian fics because my Jim fics rarely gain traction so we are trying some METHODS.
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The cottage was so quiet.
You could hear Hannah shift under the blanket and sigh in her sleep, and though seeing her so peaceful made you feel a pang of protectiveness, watching her chest rise and fall, your mind was elsewhere. Maybe you were still in London, or Manchester, or anywhere else; maybe this was all fake and you had died somewhere along the way. Was this Heaven? Or maybe Purgatory, given that nothing seemed to have changed much.
And where had this sudden, deep infatuation with Jim come into play? Was it sudden?
No. You closed your eyes and his face flashed across your mind; eyes you wanted to drown in and cheekbones sharp enough to make you bleed. Maybe that’s why you kept him around in the first place. You’d never had to help him, save him from the congregation that chased him down the road; never had to take him to your hideout in the underground. At first, (and you knew this for a fact, at least) it was simply because Mark…bored you. He was cheesy and had a chip on his shoulder, and you didn’t like how he looked at you—didn’t like that he seemed to expect you to fall in love with him. Jim made a good buffer. And it helped that he had such kind eyes that seemed to be full of fear and morbid curiosity, and that he was, in every sense of the word, pretty.
You hadn’t been sad when you’d had to kill Mark.
But once you had made it clear to Jim that you didn’t want to fall in love with him, either, your snap judgement fogging your mind, you thought that was the end of it. Thought maybe he would go out like Mark did. And was it really your fault that Jim assumed you didn’t care about him? You didn’t. You wanted him to think you didn’t. Wanted him to think that he was essentially on his own when you ran up the stairs to the top floor, with his head splitting in pain and your legs going as fast as they could carry you. But when he came up to you that night to apologize to you, thank you, hold out an olive branch, it was then you realized that you felt isolated. And, yes, doomsday will do that to you, but it wasn’t just that. It was that even when humanity was rearing its ugly head, Jim still had the time to recognize and respect you; he was willing to put you first in a way nobody would’ve done even if their life didn’t depend on it.
You felt so guilty that night, touching yourself under the covers with everybody else just a few rooms over.
It was one thing to be wandering around the desolate city with him as your only company, but once you had Frank and Hannah (and a car) you felt like maybe, just maybe, there was hope. There was a glimmer of something behind Jim’s eye when you were eating out on the countryside after ransacking the supermarket—and it could’ve been the way the light was hitting him, or the way he laughed with Hannah, or the fact that he was eating fruit for the first time in weeks, but you thought maybe it had something to do with you. Maybe he had figured out that you did care. About him and about the state of things and about what the hell you would do if there was any sort of relief from running away. You thought about kissing him then, and he might’ve, too. There was a certain tenderness in the way he curled up next to you that night, under the stars.
In another life, he might’ve done it for reasons other than keeping warm.
And then, of course, that all came crashing down. It had been too good to be true, and in retrospect you hated yourself for allowing any harm to come to your small posse. You got out alive, but the hope you had was minimal, at best. Was alive good enough anymore? Was alive good enough when you’d fought off every evil you could think of in the span of 12 hours?
No. It wasn’t until Jim turned around, soaking wet and bleeding, that you realized that being alive was no good if he wasn’t there with you to enjoy it. You’d wanted to wrap yourself in him, to feel the sweat and blood caked on his chest and kiss him until you lost consciousness. Instead, you crumpled to the floor in the red dress that had been forced upon you, hugging yourself to his shins and begging him to tell you he was ok. It was mortifying, only made slightly more bearable when Hannah lobbed a bottle over his head. At least you knew there was still humor to be found in the worst of situations.
Shortly thereafter, when Jim got shot, you were certain that it was all over; you might as well follow him out. Maybe you would’ve if it hadn’t been for Hannah crying silently next to you as she floored the gas and begged you to stay. To do something. For once you felt like you had people worth fighting for other than yourself. It made you dizzy.
Which brought you back to the present.
There were two rooms in the cottage; both were damp and smelled like the lint from a dryer, but having a bed was enough. You had discussed the sleeping situation the night of your arrival, and there had only been some mild bickering.
“I’ll sleep on the floor. S’ok.” Jim remained gentlemanly throughout, but it was apparent, to you, at least, that the person with the bullet hole through their stomach should be able to sleep comfortably.  
“Hannah and I will take one, you’ll take the other.” You were blunt, dancing around the subject of who would end up sharing by deciding then and there to divide it based on sex.
“Wha—” Hannah began to protest before deciding to shut her mouth.
“It’s really not that big a deal,” Jim stood his ground, “I’ll find something to rest on.”
“Absolutely not.” And that’s where you ended it. Saving face, dismissing any deeper urges, leaving no time for Hannah or Jim to propose a different arrangement.  
But now that you were somewhat settled, it felt wrong to be in this room. The wallpaper was a reflective pink, and it felt too bright even in the pitch-black night. You couldn’t get comfortable, and all you could do was mull over every past interaction you’d had with Jim. Every interaction, and the way his mouth moved when he spoke, and the way he smiled at you, and the way he had quite literally killed for you—nearly been killed for you.
You felt hot. Nauseous, even, to the point where you felt that you had to move around or take a walk or do anything to feel more at ease. But it just so happened that you felt the most at ease around Jim.
You tiptoed across the floor and into the hallway. You almost didn’t bother knocking on the door, but felt that you at least owed him that decency.
“C’m’in.”
You peered into the room, allowing yourself a small view of Jim’s shirtless figure splayed out on the bed. You smiled, feeling shy out of nowhere.
“Just wanted to check on you.” You excused yourself, not wanting him to think it any more odd than it already was for you to be in his doorway at midnight. “You feeling ok?”
“Better than ever.” Jim crossed his arms behind his head, sitting up against the pillows. You could see the bandage on his abdomen, and his skin covered in a ray of moonlight.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He smiled, patting the mattress to encourage you to sit with him. You closed the door behind you. “Why’re you really up?”
“Honestly?” You paused to build tension, leaning in slightly, “Hannah snores.” Jim chuckled under his breath. “And…and I don’t really feel at home in that room.”
“Would you feel more at home in this one?”
“Maybe…”
“’Cause if you’d like it, you and Hannah could have it. ‘V’always wanted pink wallpaper, anyway.”
You rolled your eyes, “No, that’s—it’s not that.”
“Then…?” Jim tilted his head slightly, and you looked down and away from him, inhaling deeply.
“Can I stay in here tonight? With—with you?” You could feel your pulse in your throat and though he responded almost immediately, you felt as though hours were passing.
“Sure, f’course.” Jim nodded; eyes wide with eager bewilderment. You swing your legs over the mattress, straightening yourself out beside him. You looked up at the ceiling, lying on your back and waiting to fall asleep.
“Closer.” Jim whispered.
“Hm?”
“Y’can come closer. If you want, I mean.”
“Oh…yeah.” You shuffled closer to him. Somehow you ended up spooning, his hand draped hesitantly over your waist. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, and his breath blowing against the hairs on the back of your neck.
“Comfortable?” He was still whispering, as if he would wake the crickets if he spoke any louder.
“Yeah. You?”
“Yeah…” You both fell silent again, and you wondered if he could feel the tension, too, or if it was something you had just made up. You turned over to face him.
“I’m sorry.” You spoke, though his eyes were closed, and you thought maybe he had already fallen asleep.
“For what?” His eyes were still closed when he responded.
“For—you know…” You reached out to graze your fingertips over his bandages, withdrawing it just as quickly when you realized that what you were doing was so forward.
“You didn’t shoot me.”
“I didn’t stop you from getting shot.”
“Not much you could’ve done. Three of us and more of them.” He opened his eyes, “Plus, you drugged Hannah, so just the two of us, really.”
You buried your face into the pillow, “Was trying to help.”
“You did.” Jim reached out to goad you from your hiding spot. “Been nothing but helpful since I met you. Consider this me returning the favor.” You managed to peek an eye out from the pillow to look at him smiling at you. He was so gentle. How could a man who had been comatose while the world was thrown into shambles remain so empathetic?
“Didn’t want you to get hurt.” You mumbled, barely audible when the words came out through the pillow.
“Didn’t want you to get hurt, either. Think I went to all that trouble for myself?”
“No.” You brought your head up to fully look at him.
“Exactly. You would’ve done the same for me.”
“You say that with so much confidence.”
“Cause it’s true. Cocky, but it’s true.”
“It is.”
“True?”
“Cocky,” you smiled when he feigned defeat, “but also true.” You quieted again, keeping eye contact with one another. Jim’s smile faded slightly.
“Why did you help me?” He asked.
“Hm?”
“In the first place, by the gas station—why did you help me?”
You didn’t know how to answer. “I needed the company.”
“You had company.”
“I needed company I would enjoy.”
“What if I wasn’t enjoyable?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I was willing to take that risk.” You raised an eyebrow back at him, mocking his curiosity and his pushback. “And…I mean, plus, you were…I d’know. Tragic. And pretty.”
“Pretty?” His other eyebrow shot up.
“And tragic.” You giggled. “It’s not like I saw you tearing down the street screaming and thought that you only deserved help ‘cause you were good looking, it was just—it’s why I kept you around.” You rolled your eyes, trying to stop yourself from sounding too sincere, unsure if Jim was willing to recognize the attraction you had toward him. Unsure of whether or not you were willing to admit it right here, right now.
“You liked me.” Jim teased.
“I like you,” you clarified, “Present tense.” You averted your eyes from his gaze, opting instead to look down at his wound once more. He gawked at you, grinning. Placing a hand on your chin, he redirected your gaze to his face.
“How long have you been holding out on me?”
“What?”
“How long’ve you been wanting to say that? Not since day one, hm? Since we went to my parents’ house?”
“Didn’t want to say it,” you huffed, “wanted to help you stay alive.”
“C’mon, all that talk about how you didn’t care if I fell in love with you? Cared more than you let on, I knew it. Could’ve saved us so much time if you just came out with it.”
“Shush.” You tried not to dwell on his words, the realization that, this whole time, he was waiting for you.
“Say it again.” He gleamed, “say it again.”
You took his hand from your face, holding it in your own. “Jim,” you brought his hand to your chest, “I like you.”
You couldn’t take a breath before he was on you. You felt his lips first, plush against your own, and then his hands over your waist and his legs tangling with yours. For someone who had almost bled out less than a week ago, he was shockingly quick on his feet. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the release of weeks’ worth of tension that had been festering inside of you when his tongue slipped between your lips. You moaned, hands grabbing at any part of him you could reach: You felt his chest against your own and ran a trail down his spine with a finger, feeling him shiver at your touch. He ground his hips into you slightly and you reached for his arms, pulling him in as close as you possibly could.
“Knew it.” He whispered when you pulled away for air. “Knew it.” He began sucking on your neck, running his tongue over your pulse point and licking stripes down your throat. You gasped at the feeling, still trying to touch him wherever you could. You found yourself stroking his jawline while he sucked bruises onto your chest, feeling the way his cheeks hollowed when he made an especially strong mark.
“Jim—” You pleaded, trying to touch him, feel him, all around needing him. It was almost all too much.
He returned to eye level. “Mm?” He kissed your neck again, soothing over the fresh hickeys. “Tell me what you need.”
“You—need you.”
“C’mon,” his grin returned, “specifics.”
“Please,” you needed to feel everything, everywhere, “fuck me.”
“God, sounds so pretty coming out of that mouth.” He stood up from the mattress, pulling you up slightly to allow him to disrobe you. It didn’t take much effort; the threadbare clothes you were trying to pass off as pajamas had already practically disintegrated the moment you had put them on. He shucked his bottoms off before retaking his place on top of you in bed.
“So fucking beautiful,” he kissed you again, “so, so pretty. Wanted to make you feel so good f’so long.”
Feeling confident, you cupped his cheek in your palm, “touched myself thinking about this.”
“F—when? Thought about me while you touched yourself? Tell me.” It was a breathless demand, and you could feel his erection throbbing above you.
“The night in the apartment. Came on my fingers, came so hard while I thought of how good you’d fuck me—oh!” Your sexy display was cut short when you felt his fingers brush your clit.
“Yeah? Touched right here and thought of how nice I’d fuck this pussy?” You whimpered at the way he massaged you just right, and his words only added fuel to the fire. “Should’ve just asked me to take care of you, baby, would’ve helped.” God, he was wicked. Such a good man, and so, so wicked for speaking to you like this. You arched your back, and he took the opportunity to slide two fingers into your cunt. “Fuck,” he huffed, delighted by how wet you were for him, and your eyes rolled back, “get yourself this wet? Or is it just me?”
“You, fuck, Jim—it’s you.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Cocky bastard.” You managed between whines and gasps.
“You love it.”  He continued to push his fingers in and out of you, and a delightful squelching noise filled the bedroom. “Fucking beautiful.” He kept at it for a while longer, enjoying the noises you made for him and the way your face contorted when he hit an especially sensitive spot. When he pulled his fingers from you, you sighed, feeling the low of being empty, until he brought the wet digits to your mouth and encouraged you to clean them off for him. He let out a low groan when you began sucking, using your tongue to gather your slick off from in between them. “Yeah, good girl.”
He slotted himself between your thighs, and you could feel the drag of his cock over your stomach. You looked down, wrapping a hand around him and ogling him; so long, so beautifully outlined by thick veins. He gently grasped your wrist, pushing your hand back onto the mattress.
“Wanna make this last.” He half-joked. He kept your arm pinned under him, and you could feel his tip exploring your folds, until finally he pushed himself into you. You let out a shaky, breathless moan as he shallowly thrusted into you, working you open to take him as deep as you could. When he bottomed out, he leaned his forehead against yours, and you could feel the stickiness of sex and sweat on your skin.
“Good, yeah?” He was still being smug, though ensuring you were comfortable. You felt devious, rolling your hips against him and grinning in response, earning a choked “fuck” from him. “Dirty fucking girl.” He pulled out almost entirely before thrusting back into you, forcefully enough that you felt your back drag against the bed. Your tits bounced as he rocked his hips into you, and he took the opportunity to grab one in his hand, taking the other in his mouth.
“Jim!” You couldn’t remember your own name, could barely remember who you were or how you got here; all you could think was Jim, Jim, Jim. “Fu—uck, oh my god, Jim!”
“Gonna wake up the whole neighborhood?” He was incapable of being serious even in the most intimate of moments, knowing full well that the people in this house were the only living souls for miles. “Gonna make sure everybody knows who’s fucking you?” Your lips parted, letting out small moans and whimpers of his name with every thrust.
You could feel his fingers on your clit again, and the feeling was electric; maybe it was because you had wanted him for so long, and tried to deny it for almost as long, but you’d never felt this good—never felt this perfectly sated. The way he kneaded your swollen bud while pounding into you hard enough to make the bedframe shake, the way he whispered such filthy things into the skin of your breasts, the way he wanted you too.
“Gonna—Jim, I’m gonna cum!” You tried to move in sync with him, but it was all too much; he was everywhere, and it was going to be your undoing. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to fuck you deeper. He leaned over you, tracing his fingers down your cheek before grabbing your face in one hand.
“Cum for me, baby. So good, my perfect girl, cum on my cock like this.” You were as good as gone. You felt your legs tighten around his body at the same time as your cunt clenched around his length. You dug your nails into the skin of his arm, and he growled at the way your body responded to him. “Yeah, like that—just like that, sweetheart.”
You were trembling, dripping down his cock and unsure of how to rationalize this amount of pleasure in the midst of end times. Who cared, anyway? You felt fuzzy, barely registering Jim’s words as his strokes became messier and rushed, catching up to you with his own high.
“Want it inside,” you mumbled through your haze, “please, inside.”
“Can’t fucki—can’t say that baby, can’t risk it.”
“Please…” You knew how stupid it was, knew that he would have to say no, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try.
“When we get out of England—when we get out of England, I’ll fill you up as much as you want. Yeah?” He slammed himself into you, and his words bounced around inside of your head: “When we get out,” “as much as you want.” If you weren’t so spent, you’d cum for him again from that statement alone. “Promise I will, whenever you want it, baby.”
“Mm.” You sighed contentedly at his assurance. “Tummy.”
“Yeah, good girl, gonna paint you with my cum.” He groaned when you reached up to brush your fingers down his happy trail.
“Give it to me. Please, Jim. Needed it f’so long.” Your mouth hung open, sensitive and sore from his cock and his hands, and somehow still so needy for him, desperate to see him to completion. He buried his face in your neck, breathing in your scent and letting your moans fill his ears as his hips stuttered and he pulled out. You felt his knuckles against your stomach as he stroked himself, finally feeling the warmth of his spend land and spread across your abdomen with a long moan of your name. You stayed like that, both of you breathing heavily, Jim lying on top of you. The gluey feeling of his cum on your stomach and your own between your thighs only heightened when he sat up on his elbow, looking down at you to appreciate how pretty you looked after being fucked out, and you could see the strands of cum dripping between your bodies.
“So beautiful.” He kissed you again, and despite the passion from the last kisses still being present, he was significantly gentler with you in your bleary state.
You blinked up at him, smiling through the fog in your brain, and hugging him close to you. “Gonna have to change your bandages. Covered in your own cum.”
“But what a way to go, right?” He laughed, and you buried your face into him further. “Tomorrow,” he promised. “Need a towel?”
“Would it be gross to sleep like this?”
“Gross? No. Uncomfortable? Maybe.”
“I’ll take my chances. Too tired to wash off.”
“As long as you’re alright.” He brushed your hair away from your eyes, maneuvering himself to look down at you while you were pressed to his chest.
“Feel amazing.” You reassured him. “Should’ve said something earlier.”
“No,” Jim pet your hair, smoothing it down over the back of your head, “this was perfect timing.”
“Perfect timing.” You murmured his words back to him in agreement.
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