Tumgik
#also last name murphy
quicklings · 1 year
Text
trapp is like murph in the way that he WILL end up the straight man of any party.
2K notes · View notes
Tumblr media
Ally beardsley WAS right. this ship IS kinda cute
180 notes · View notes
feelingtheaster99 · 10 months
Text
Does anyone else think it’s fascinating how nicknames develop? Like sometimes a nickname is a logical shortening of a name, sometimes it’s a different part of their name, like a last name or a middle name, and sometimes it’s completely random, manifesting out of a series of twisting inside jokes and memories that is impossible to explain and you’re just like, “Oh yeah, that’s our friend, The Ball, don’t mind him.”
85 notes · View notes
redcomet-stims · 30 days
Note
OMGR PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLESDEPLEEEEASE FARZ TINR!! (not the impostor we don't talk about him.)
Alright ^^
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
🐦🤍🏮 Farz Murphy (This Is Not Romance) stimboard for anon :3
I hope this is good and I hope this is the right character ^^ Also, just a note, this ended up being more based on vibes than actual themes? So hopefully that's fine ^^; Anyway, I decided to actually read a few parts of this webcomic, and honestly? I might try to finish it! It really hooked me, and I want to know more about the story/characters from what I read (I only read the first 2 or 3 parts) :-) And I actually like this character so far :3
Sources:
x | x | x
x | x | x
x | x | x
8 notes · View notes
mousemannation · 2 months
Text
i am being divinely punished for not learning to drive
6 notes · View notes
calenhads · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
TLOU OC | THE BLACK DOG OF BOSTON
sometimes the short end of the stick is the sharpest sometimes the only road to take is the darkest sometimes all you gotta say is “daddy, make it go away” sometimes the only way out is as a carcass
[template]
46 notes · View notes
rosicheeks · 8 months
Note
Honeybee: Name something positive you have done for yourself or someone else in the last two weeks.
I’ve been really trying to focus on bettering myself lately.
5 notes · View notes
prozac-shaped-urn · 9 months
Text
the amount of hours i have spent watching the same four fucking videos of donna fucking murphy sing the same four goddamn songs should be a concerning element of my mental health* but alas i'm by far the most stable i have ever been in my life and i'm beginning to think this whole hyperfixating thing is actually how my brain works when it's lacking in dopamine and should not be a concern at all
*a sign that i'm escaping reality, as that's been my lifelong pattern which i desperately desire to no longer repeat and have been taking active steps in doing away with altogether
4 notes · View notes
ziskandra · 2 years
Note
If your pet could talk, what do you think they might say about you?
Firstly, I have no idea how you come up with these questions but I love them fjdjfj 💞
Secondly, I think it would depend on the pet.
Murphy? Probably some variant of “Mother never feeds me, I am but skin and bones, but at least they have brought Father into our lives, and Father can be Trusted™️ For that, I will lavish Mother with eternal devotion”
Tumblr media
Pictured: Murphy awaiting his next meal
Maya, on the other hand, is probably just like “Mum’s okay, but I don’t love them enough to express my anal glands in their vicinity when we cuddle. Only Dad gets that special privilege.”
Tumblr media
Pictured: Maya, non-stinky edition, because my fiancé is absent.
13 notes · View notes
ziracona · 2 years
Text
Do gotta hand it to FO4; there’s something very poetic about The Railroad, a group taking its name from a forbearer that also at great risk smuggled slaves to freedom, made up of this small, struggling, regularly brutally purged, yet defiantly resilient group of civilians and liberated slaves, during the course of the game, operating and living out of a little church of historical significance, a symbol of freedom in its own right, living out of the crypts beneath it, among the bodies and the graves.
#everything about them is poetic and sad. it’s poetic and sad the last scripted Dialogue for Deacon’s first mission with the player is ‘End#of the line.’ Said happily about reaching escape. but also the quest name of the quest where you’re asked to walking into HQ & destroy them#there’s something poetic and awful and painful about how Deacon’s first personal remark to the Sole Survivor is that he’d take it as a#personal favor if they wouldn’t betray them to the institute since he vouched for them. it’s said laughingly. friendly. and the last thing#said to Deacon if the player /does/ betray them to the Institute is Desdemona’s ‘I should have known better than to trust your#recommendation’. before his desperate ‘I swear this wasn’t me. what the fuck’ and before they all die. there’s something deeply tragic and#poetic in that one of the women in HQ gives Preston caps excitedly and thanks him for the Minutemen. in that if you wipe them out with the#brotherhood you storm a church to be met by desperate civilian begging you to just leave them alone as they’re cut down pipe pistols to#power armor and Gatlings. not anger like the other factions. fear and desperation. pleading. trying to buy someone else time to flee#in that if Deacon isn’t in HQ when you destroy it if you turn on them he will hunt you down and try to kill you to avenge them. a#trait unique in every faction to him alone. In that they only move on the brotherhood when attacked. in that they attack the Institute to#save people not to destroy a threat. In that you find safe house after safe house with dead civilians in cloth.#in the way they’ve died many times before and someone always cares enough to pick up the pieces. in that every route points you gently to#them. but there’s nothing to keep them safe except choice. that even if you abandon them but don’t attack Dez will let you walk.#in the fact Deacon’s character exists at all. they are truly deeply overwhelmingly tragic. and it’s beautiful. and simple. just people#trying to do something that can’t be done forever knowing that for the days they can. everyone is standing in a host of ghost’s shoes#even the PC is given a dead man’s gun and can take his name. is recruited becuase they’re falling without him#and they live in a church among the dead in the crypts far from the light and their symbol is a lanter#Mama Murphy calls them the light in the darkness. truly. surrounded by it. but better to light one candle than to curse the dark#and hundreds of people have done so and died so that a few others could live. and they’re still doing it. and they don’t regret#Deacon calls them a family. P.A.M. stayed and helped for love of Glory. Carrington says Desdemona’s flaw is her heart - evidenced by her#allowing the PC to join or leave despite the risk they represent when the clinical call would be to kill them or another extreme measure.#and he’s right. but it’s also why they have a chance to live. Everything about them is about vulnerability and heart. Everything#fallout 4#the railroad#the railroad fallout 4
2 notes · View notes
basementxdweller · 4 months
Text
insert witty and charming and incredibly funny joke here that makes you find me irresistibly attractive
#loooove that i have come to hate pride month because i know i am just always going to be in the closet#i dont think i will ever actually get to live my life the way i want to and it is genuinely tearing me apart i think#and its so annoying when people try to act all positive and be like#'you can do whatever you want!'#because i cant. i never really have been and i never really will be anle to. and it hurts so much.#idk why it has been so hard for me to accept this lately#but it is and it just keeps getting harder#and the reality of this just leeps setting in more and more.#i uaed to be just fine with the knowlesge tjat i would never be able to transition kr anything but now its so hard#i used to be fine mnowing that i would mever be a real boy but now its like. well wht if i juat [redacted]#i dont hate being a woman i just hate that ill never be a man.#its simple i think aobout the afact that my larents were going to name me murphy if i qas a born a boy and i get so sad i want to die#its simple i think about the fact that i could have been born a boy and i just wasnt for qhatever fucked up reason#and i get so sad rhat i want to just fucking shrivel up and die#and its so fucking stupid.#its simple i think about the fact that the last time i felt okay is when she called me a boy and then i get so sad that i want to die.#i wish i could be called a boy by people without it feeling like a lie everyone tells me out of pity.#i wish i could be a boy without it feeling fake.#all ive ever wanted is to be a boy but it always feels so fake anytime i try to be one.#but i also feel like im no good at being a girl either.#that feels like a lie and fake as well.#i just dont like who i am as a person very much and theres nothing i can do about it.#its like theres no version of me that ends up happy and okay.
0 notes
mango-sp1ce · 2 months
Text
Fully haunting a building is easy when you’re a full ghost. It’s instinct, even!
Being a half ghost- can cause some problems though.
But Danny was lucky. He wouldn’t call this Fenton luck, because Fenton luck just meant bad luck. The murphys law of Amity, really. No- this had to be Phantom luck. Which also had never been very good- but it had its moments.
Or maybe the smarts his sister swears he has have finally pulled through.
Haunting the fancy manor in one of the most dangerous cities in the world was pretty easy, despite all of his occasional slip ups.
Who needs to worry about accidentally walking into a room fully human when the manors full of black haired blue eyed boys- and everyone’s mistaking you for someone else.
He’d been mistaken for “Tim” a handful of times! And when he finally met the actual dude, he seemed to be delusional from lack of sleep and had simply nodded and walked past.
The butler had called him “Master Wayne”??? But honestly, Danny can’t blame him. Wayne’s the last name of almost everyone living here, and he’s not sure he’d be able to keep track of that many people either.
And then there’s the interactions. What seemed to be the eldest son had ruffled his hair yesterday and tussled him up- the head of the house had draped a blanket over him when he fell asleep on the couch and dropped his transformation, and the butler kept passing him fruit platters?
Danny’s not even sure how long he has to haunt this place to get his official haunting license- but it’s starting to look like the perfect forever haunt!
5K notes · View notes
thevelvetvampyre · 3 months
Text
The Dinner Party - Cillian Murphy x Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: Cillian can’t wait any longer to fuck his friends daughter after finally seeing her now that she’s legal
Warnings; age gap, riding, fingering, p in v, oral (fem receive), he’s a giver, sneaky and a creeper, met when reader was underage but like a good boy he waited, affair / cheating, general smut and adult content + alcohol / intoxicated behaviour.
(ALSO ONE USE OF Y/N I LOVE IMAGINING HIM SPEAKING TO READER DIRECTLY and I feel like he’s just one to use a girls name when speaking to them anyways)
Notes: sorry I haven’t been active, I’ve been fucking my boss lol (proudly, I am not joking) + I wrote this ages ago so it may be horrible xox
─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ───
The dinner party was coming to a close, broken champagne glasses splattered shards over the linen covered table as the candles had burnt to a crisp and the wick began puffing black. Most importantly, the guests were heaving the thick scent of alcohol which filled your fathers living room with dancing, laughing and kisses being shared between people they’d cringe over the morning to come.
“Come on! Just a dip.”
Your best friend has drunkly jumped into your swimming pool fully clothed, the cool water up to her chest as she stayed eager to persuade you in with her.
The heat of the drink in your hand had spread across you and left you smiling stupid at her antics, huffing as you chugged the remainder of the convincing liquid down your throat and placing the glass on the table next to you.
“Fine! Fine… just for a while.”
Your words sounded tired but your happiness and excitement was evident, pulling the bottom of your dress up over your head and leaving you bare in your bra and panties.
Squeaking in excitement she twirled in the water, screaming praises about the way your body looked and how ‘sexy’ you were when you were so bare.
Jumping into the pool, the blurred noises had filled your ears and your skin lathered in bumps to the contact of the cold.
“Isn’t tonight so beautiful.”
You raised from the water to see her floating on her back stargazing, the start of summer was like crack to her and you could only find it addictive yourself.
As the pair of you giggled, floated and embraced in the water, spluttering out sentences of admiration to your friendship, the pounding of the indie music inside had become clearer as the patio door swiped open and your parents, plus a couple of their friends, made their way stumbling and laughing to themselves.
“Are you ladies okay?”
Your dad screamed over the thumping drums, breaking your attention away from each other and looking at him.
“Hell yeah!”
You screamed and threw your arms up, your best friend following suit with a squeal herself.
“Love to hear it honey!”
Your eyes pulled from your dad who swayed with the largest grin you’d ever seen and landed on his friend, Cillian.
He stood there as your eyes met and his smirk became increasingly evident under the blue moonlight. Lifting his hand that held the beer, he threw you a cheers as his gaze dropped to your exposed body hidden beneath the turquoise blue that transparently hid your frame.
Whether it was the sting of the cold liquid you’d submerged yourself in or the lust in his glance, the chills that snuck up your spine sent a shiver to your core.
You’d met the man once, this time last year actually. You of course knew who he was from the impressive array of movies he’d starred in and you were thrilled to hear your father had befriended the man at a PR event. Striking up a close friendship exceptionally fast with the actor, he was soon invited to one of the beautiful, lavish dinner parties your dad hosted once every year.
You were only 17, but my god was he gorgeous. The smell of his masculine musk that surrounded you, his firm grip on your delicate hand as he introduced himself as a stranger, those piercing baby blue iris’s that undressed you slowly in front of your parents.
No- no, of course he didn’t mean to look at you like that. Of course his eyes didn’t fall from yours to your plush lips, admiring how soft and kissable they were. Of course they didn’t soon fall to your perked tits and felt his cock thicken as he imagined how soft they were to squeeze. And of course, he didn’t watch the way your hips moved you along the marbled floor as he imagined himself biting into your silky thighs as they wrapped around his head.
He was married after all, and he was who he was. A gorgeous, talented, Hollywood actor who would have absolutely no interest in a girl less than half his age with all his glitzy awards and a wife who could please him in ways you had yet to learn.
But oh, you were wrong.
From the moment he laid eyes on you, you possessed his thoughts which soon spread to his palm as he fisted himself to the mental picture of you in his head. The way your lashes batted and your teeth dug into your lips, the furrow of your brows as you listened to whoever was speaking at the table and the pull of your lips as they spurred out drunken words.
With each step he took out of his home he’d excite himself with the thought he may bump into you, joke about what a coincidence it was to see you in public and ask you how you’ve been.
You were in the corner of his mind, the hallucination in his sheets and the ghost that crept around each promising corner.
You haunted him. You were the coffee he drank, the scripts he read, the women he fucked and the air he breathed.
A year later, here you were, intoxicatingly half naked in your own pool and finally legal.
Like a corpse that revived from the dead, you were deathly beautiful and his haunting desires had manifested in front of his very eyes.
You send him a smirk that expressed pages of expressionless desires that had too, haunted you.
“Right… who’s feeling one more?”
Your father exclaimed as he shot down the last of his beer and raised the glass.
His friends cheered loudly as they threw their arms up and tripped over seemingly nothing back into the house. Cillian’s eyes had remained on yours as they darkened, clenching his jaw through his arousal and cocking his brows up before slowly turning around and following the group inside.
For the next hour you stayed basking in the moon with your best friend, exhausting yourselves with laughter and dancing in the pool that soon brought you to tiredness.
“Thank you for coming tonight.”
You smiled appreciatively at her, sighing out as you held your sore stomach from the stitch that had pierced your lungs.
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
She pulled you in for one more hug before you swam to the corner of the pool, cursing at the lack of towels to cover you from shivering in the cold summer air.
“Dad!”
You screamed, repeatedly.
Of course, no response as the music had grown louder- if that was even possible, and most definitely impaired him from hearing your desperate screams.
Oh fuck it.
You pulled yourself up from the pool and grabbed your dry dress, wrapping the material around you the best you could.
“Stay here- I’ll get us towels.”
You pulled open the door and immediately got hit with the smell of whiskey, the pounding of the music and the lack of lighting that explained the mass amounts of broken glass on the countertops and floors.
Sneaking through the walls, you almost made it to the living room when the sound of a man clearing his throat caused you to snap your neck into the kitchen.
There he was, leaning against the counter with that god forsaken smirk he glared at you and his eyes amused at the state you were in.
“Having fun out there?”
Cillian brought the tip of his bottle to his lips, swinging it back as his gaze dropped to your dripping body.
His cock swelled in his pants, admiring how delicious you looked when you were wet.
“Yes, Mr.Murphy.”
You said sweetly, turning your full posture to him and grinning shyly at his question.
“Hm… looks like it.”
His lips parted as his gaze was hot and obvious, leaking arousal out your cunt as he licked his bottom lip at the sight of you.
“You look stunning Y/N.”
His voice was low and quiet as he complimented you, your blush pricking your chest as your pussy clenched around nothing. You dropped your head down as your grin grew to avoid is lustful gaze as his intimidating presence was growing unbearable.
“Oh come on… don’t get s’shy on me now.”
His voice was soothing as he babied you, leaving the counter to slowly walk over you as he dropped his neck to meet your low gaze.
Before you got the chance to respond, your father had barged in and greeted you with a loud welcome.
“Hey! Don’t try courting my angel…”
Your dad had turned to Cillian, raising his voice and finger to point at him in a joking manner.
“Eyes off!”
Cillian chuckled as he pulled his gaze off your dripping tits, cock now painfully erect as he decided then and there he needed you. Brushing past you as he walked through you and your father, the skin of his arm grazed yours and you shivered at the contact.
-
Your best friend had eventually left and so did the rest of the party, a few members having to stay overnight in an attempt to avoid the danger of the road at this time in their intoxicated state.
You sat wet in your bedroom, heart pounding as you repeated his compliment in your head and smirking at just how smooth and silky his voice was when he purred it to you.
Standing up, dropping your towel and pushing into your bathroom, you didn’t bother to close the door fully as your tile walls filled with warm steam.
Lathering your exposed, erect nipples in your body wash and rubbing your soapy palms across your body, you were lost in the thought of him as you bathed and cleared your scent of the chlorine.
Unbeknownst to you, Cillian was one of the guests who stayed. With your parents in their bed and everyone else passed out, he sneaked up the stairs on the edge of his toes and leant against the large wooden frame that kept you safe from him. Placing his ear on the wooden door his wet bottom lip dropped open as he listened carefully to the noise of movement inside.
With his palm pressed next to him, his smirk returned as he heard the dripping of your shower head and snaked his other hand onto the doorknob.
Quietly twisting his wrist to open the door, he winced at the squeak and stopped breathing as his heart thumped in his chest at his actions. From the subconscious alert that maybe sneaking into an 18 year olds bedroom wasn’t morally accepted? Especially as an older married man? No, of course not. His heart thumped in fear that he would get caught. That if anyone was to see him now, he couldn’t have you as he needed you tonight.
Breathing heavily as the coast was seemingly clear, he slowly pressed into the door and snuck in through the small crack. Swiftly turning around and pressing his weight above the handle, he quietly pushed it shut and sighed out a relieved huff at his successful entry into your bedroom.
Twisting his neck to the crack in your bathroom door, the corner of his lips curled as he made his way to the beam of light that poured out your bathroom.
Continuing to grin through the alcohol and your arousal of the slight contact you had with him earlier, your skin was warm as the water caressed you. The sweet smell of your soap had intoxicated the room, Cillian rolling his eyes at how your scent was just as addictive as he remembered.
Placing an eye through the gap in the frame, he salivated at how oblivious you were to him, how vulnerable you looked when you were stripped completely and how he could’ve stormed in and forced his thick, throbbing cock into your cunt right then and there.
He watched as the suds ran over your tits, onto your stomach and down your thighs. His veins pulsed through him and his jaw clenched, furrowing his brows and dropping his wet bottom lip at he watched you run your hands over your naked body.
He was growing needy, the tent in his pants poking towards you and thumping under the constraint of the material. He groaned under his breath as he watched you innocently touch yourself, reaching to every crevice of your body that he wanted to lick clean with his own mouth.
Admiring you in an agonising arousal for a few more seconds before you turned the water off, his eyes widened and he stepped back, swiftly but quietly making his way to your bed before sitting down and leaning back onto his wrists.
Stepping out the shower, you reached for your baby pink towel and wrapped it around your body, looking at your blush skin in the mirror before giggling quietly to yourself and opening the door.
Pulling your gaze up from the ground, your throat closed and your heart pounded in your chest as your eyes met Cillian’s. Your mouth went dry and your breath breathlessly left out your lungs, a mix of confusion and excitement fuelling your feet to slowly walk you forward.
“Miss me?”
He said smirkily, his Irish accent laced with the alcohol he drank earlier and tilting his head as his eyes assaulted you.
“What are you doing here?”
Your whisper was sharp and blunt, your red skin burned purple as you noticed his thick cock pointing towards you.
He licked his lips, slowly pulling himself up from your bed and walking towards you. Stopping in front of you, he lifted his fingertips and grazed them down the side of your arms.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you… have been onto you since last year.”
His voice was a low whisper as it was husky, the grazing of his nails on your skin sending goosebumps to your mound.
“Do ya… do ya think’f me too?”
His eyes met yours and his gaze softened as he poured his blue into you. An odd look of sincerity plastered his face as your cheeks grew warm to his contact.
“You’re married!”
Your whisper was a scream. He chuckled as his eyes fell to your chest, moving his hands to link his fingertips to the top of your towel and slowly unwrapping you from the cotton.
“That’s not what I asked.”
He growled as the towel pooled at the end of your body, standing frozen as his tongue grazed along this top lip. His eyes grew hungry as they ravished in how beautiful and exposed you were to him.
“Y-yes.”
You quietly admitted. A huff left his chest knowingly.
You wanted to cover yourself, feeling vulnerable to his gaze and suddenly insecure of what he’d think of your naked self. Raising your arms subconsciously you covered your midriff, he grunted as his fingers grasped at your forearms to stop you.
“Don’t…”
His desperation was evident, grunting through his words as he stared at you like a raw piece of meat, twitching closer to you with each second passing to close to gap between you.
“need to see you, I’ve waited so long.”
He drooled out the last words, finally pulling his eyes up as his brows knitted and landed on yours.
Staring into his eyes longingly, you pushed yourself forward for your lips to land on his. Now starving, he breathed heavily as his palm grabbed the back of your head to press you harder into the kiss.
Quiet, soft moans left your lips into his mouth as he whimpered shyly at your kiss, his mouth opening wider to force his tongue into yours. Accepting into the kiss and moving your head to twirl your tongue around his, he grabbed at your waist and started to pull you back towards your bed.
Unable to get close enough, he pulls you tighter against his torso as his lips press and pull against yours, wetting your mouth as he whined and grasped at your sides desperately.
Finally feeling your mattress at the back of him he sat down as he continued to knead your waist, shimmering back onto the bed and pulling you on top of him.
As the kisses grew aggressive, he flipped you under him and your back landed against the soft, plush blanket and he pulled back to gaze at your equally frazzled state. His eyes dazed and lips swollen, he stared at you through furrowed brows as he caught his breath.
“Need you…”
He whined, beginning to kiss the crook of your neck as he grazed your skin against his teeth.
“Need you so bad.”
His voice was crying as he pulled back, kissing lower and lower on your bare body and leaving a wet trail.
“Cillian- please!”
You moaned softly with your impatience evident, desperate to feel his mouth on your mound as his hot breath fanned your lower stomach.
He chuckled as he dropped his lower half off the bed, his knees banging against the floor as his forearms wrapped around your thighs.
Pulling you with ease so your cunt nearly hung off the bed, he bit marks with his teeth into your fleshy thighs and groaned around the kisses.
“Bet this cunt tastes so good.”
His voice continued to grow whiner, breaking his desperate kisses apart as he praised you.
“So fucking good.”
Planting more kisses as he was getting teasingly closer to your dripping hole, you began clenching both your thighs and walls in an attempt to push him closer.
“Fuck- I need you!”
Your words came out exasperated and he chuckled.
“Yeah?”
He gazed up at you, cocking his brows and licking his lower lip.
“Yes, god-please… please!”
Your fingers wrapped around his hair and your back arched, your cunt pulsating to finally feel him after waiting for so long.
Within a second his hot mouth was on your mound, lapping his wet tongue to taste how wet you’ve gotten from his teasing.
“Oh god- fuck…”
He pulled apart for a split second.
“You’re soaked.”
Attaching his lips once more, he began hungrily eating at you as your hips twitched beneath him.
Holding you firm in place as his tongue traced from your hole to your clit, your back arched as he quickened his pace and you couldn’t help but whimper under his touch.
“Yes-yes! Right there!”
Groaning in response, his tongue slipped into your cunt and fucked you fast, groaning at how sweet your pussy leaked onto his mouth.
As you squirmed and wiggled beneath him, he dug his nails into your skin and moved his head in synch to your attempted escape from his tongue.
Moving his tongue to your clit once more, he traced figure eights and removed his right hand, placing two fingers at your entrance he began circling teasingly as the tips of his digits picked up your arousal.
Slowly pressing them into your hole, a gasp left your lips as you let go of his hair and grabbed the sheets beneath you, your knuckles turning white in an attempt to not wake anyone up with your muffled screaming.
“So tight baby…”
He removed his mouth from your mound and began curling his fingers mercilessly, your legs being to tremble as you felt your orgasm knot in inside of you.
Staring in awe at the way you shook to his fingers, he stared at you in a daze and admired the way you took your pleasure so well.
“Fuck! I’m cumming…I’m cumming”
Your words were fast and mumbled, the heat in your core overbearing and possessive of your limbs.
“That’s it…”
The knot in your stomach was growing painful, needing your release as you whined against your sheets and shook uncontrollably.
“That’s it.”
Your orgasm shook over you, causing you to convulse as he continued to finger fuck you through your climax.
“Such a pretty girl when you cum hm?”
His voice stayed low and you moaned and cursed through your shaking, grasping the sheets desperately as white noise filled your ears and stars appeared at the back of your head where your eyes rolled.
Slurring out his name as quietly as you could, the violence of your orgasm took over you as you continued to remind him of who made you feel this good.
Slowing down his fingers, he delicately pumped in and out of you as you came down from your high. Your chest heaved as you began reconnecting with reality and lowering your gaze to meet his starstruck glare.
Slowly dragging his fingers out, he placed them to his knuckles in his mouth and licked them clean.
“Taste s’good honey.”
Your cheeks pulsated a heat as your orgasm was powerful and overstimulating, staring at him lick his fingers clean.
“Mhm…”
You moaned out, the exhaustion of how hard you came made you unable to speak a coherent word. Slowly standing up as his knees wobbled, he stood over you in triumph and fell on top of you again.
His throbbing, veiny cock pressed against your leg and your cunt began salivating at the sensation of his arousal, gasping at how big he felt through his pants.
Kissing you with no hesitation once again with an open mouth, he flung you over so you were on top and your boobs hung below his face.
Continuing to kiss you needy, he grabbed your ass and began dry humping you through his jeans.
“Fuck- please.”
He panted through the kisses, whining quietly as his painful hard cock begged to fuck your tight walls.
“Needs- mhm- to feel you baby.”
You continued to rub your wet cunt over his constrained cock, sitting up with no time to spare you whipped his belt off and unzipped his awfully tight crotch.
Raising his hips to shift his jeans to his thighs, his underwear soon followed and his massive shaft was suddenly protruding into your mound.
“So big…”
You could only muster a slight compliment before automatically grinding on the underside of his cock.
“Who got you so hard, Mr.Murphy?”
Your head swung back as your clit was caressed with his leaking red tip.
“Hm?”
You looked back down to see his mouth dropped, his glazed eyes staring at where you were rubbing on him and a red flush that bruised over his knitted brows.
“You- fuck…”
His head lulled back, squeezing his eyes shut as his fingers grasped deep into your hips once more.
“You did.”
His groan vibrated through him, urging you to grab the base of him as you aligned his leaking tip to your soaking hole.
You began to drop your hips as he dipped into you, his neck pushing back more into the bed beneath him and his back slightly arching at the sensation of him breaching your tight cunt.
“Fuck…”
He groaned and elongated his word, snapping his eyes open and hazily looking down to watch as he entered you.
“So fucking tight… this cunts so fucking tight.”
He whined as he panted at the feeling of you continuing to sink down on him, small whimpers breathing out with each of his short breaths.
Swinging your head back at the size of him, you couldn’t help but whimper yourself as he felt so thick and warm inside of you.
“Oh yes… feels- oh- so good.”
You sunk all the way down, moaning with each inch that vanished into you.
Finally reaching his base, you snapped your hips back up so only his beady, white tip was left inside of you.
With no warning, you fell all the way down once more and continued to rock as he groaned to the feeling of his cock stretching you out.
Feeling each inch reach a deeper part inside of you until it hit your navel, your inner thighs dampened with a mixture of sweat and both of your arousals.
Rocking faster as you sped up the way you bounced on him, your room filled with wet slapping noises and his groans that vibrated around you.
A string of incoherent curse words and praises fell from his lips, his face scrunching to a look of pain as the vein in his neck bulged and his breath knocked out his chest.
“Oh yes… taking my cock so- oh fuck- well.”
He struggled to find a balance of basking in his pleasure and watching you ride him, swinging his neck up to watch and flex at the side of your tits bouncing so delicately and swinging his neck back to squeeze his eyes shut as he tried so hard to not cum already.
“Sh- slow down!”
He winced, tightly holding onto your sides as he attempted to pause your rhythm.
“Why?”
Your word slipped out with a moan, bouncing fast and pornographically as your ass slapped on his balls and your clit rubbed on his pubic bone.
“You don’t wanna fill my tight pussy up?”
His cock flexed hard at your words, a cry falling from his lips as he rolled his eyes and panted pathetically to try and stop his balls from spilling inside of you.
“Please-please…”
His voice became ten octave’s higher, squeaking as his hips twitched upwards to fuck you deeper than your own pussy could handle.
“Oh please… please cum for me.”
You bounced aggressively as his legs began trembling, his nails scaring your sides as your chest heated up with a sweat from your rocking.
“Oh fuck- fuck I’m cumming.”
His head swung up as he watched you smirk down at him, your own mouth open for your sweet moans to seep into his ears as you edged him on.
You felt his cock twitch not once, but three times as a warm liquid squirted out to coat the back of your walls.
You watched as he convulsed underneath you, shaking and wincing with the gleam of a tear rolling down his cheek.
His eyes were squeezed shut as his mouth was wet and open, his brows twitching in sync with his cock and his chest heaved breathlessly.
“Ah-ah…oh god.”
His winces were easy and liquid out of him, his hot cum dripping down his shaft as you continued to fuck him as he filled your cunt with his sticky arousal.
Your bounces slowed as his nails loosened their grip on your side, his heaving filled with whines and chokes, sobbing at the aggressive orgasm that spasmed him into filling you full.
Pulling him out of you as you raised yourself, you fell next to him in a sweat and caught your own breath, proud of making the actor cum as hard as he did.
Laying limp for a couple of minutes with the smell of sweat and sex filling your room, the pair of you stared up at your ceiling as you caught your breath. Turning his head to face you, he blinked in a dazed gaze as he admired how pretty you were in the moonlight.
“You’ve been haunting me- y’know that?”
You turn to him and give him a smirk.
“Couldn’t stop thinking of- mhm- how good you’d feel.”
He pulled his pants on and fumbled to buckle himself back into his clothing.
“Yeah?”
You smiled in accomplishment.
“Couldn’t stop thinking of you either.”
You turned your head back up to the ceiling, the pang of guilt in your chest as your thoughts flashed of his lovely wife at home.
“What about your wife?”
You asked quietly, earning a chuckle from him as he sat up properly.
“Don’t worry about it…”
He turned to look at you laying lifeless on your bed, your eyes meeting his as you couldn’t help but blush at how gorgeous he looked, even after filling you so well.
“Can’t stand her anyways.”
He huffed out and rubbed his thighs, sighing deeply as he stood up and slowly walked towards your door.
Confused at his statement and how fast he was leaving, you sat up on your elbows and furrowed your brows in confusion to his fast arrival and even faster departure.
“Will I see you again?”
You felt pathetic asking, watching him walk away feeling used after he made a mess of your insides and bedsheet.
He grabbed the doorknob and turned to look at you, smirking as he cocked his head in amusement to your question.
“You’re everywhere I go honey…”
He turned the doorknob and it squeaked quietly.
“You’ll see me soon enough.”
Without hesitation or another look back at you, he slipped out your door and left you feeling just as naked as he did when he arrived.
Huffing out and laying back onto your bed, a knot of anxiety built as the guilt of your actions took over you. He’s done this before, and he’ll do it again.
622 notes · View notes
mydear-corinthian · 4 months
Text
Birthday || Cillian Murphy x reader
Synopsis: Cillian arriving on his birthday back to your shared home after an exhausting Oppenheimer work. Pairing: Cillian Murphy x reader Warnings: SMUT +18, squirting, praising kink, rough sex, p in v, creampie Notes: ENTIRELY FICTIONAL. No hate to Cillian's wife! (we love her) Happy (advance) Birthday my man, Cillian Murphy <3 Click here to see the MAIN MASTERLISTClick here to see the CILLIAN MURPHY masterlist
Tumblr media
Cillian is finally free to rest. For the past few months, he has been traveling all around the world with Oppenheimer's premiers, interviews, new promotions with different brands, and of course, the awarding ceremonies.
Due to the busy schedule your husband had, you weren't able to talk to him physically, kiss him, touch him, go out with him, or complete your day with him for months. During the busy period, both of you will hop on Skype or Zoom every week to talk about what's happening.
Now that the promotions and other interviews are finished, Cillian can finally come back home to his hometown in Cork, Ireland with you and his family. He'll arrive no later than May 23, just a day before his 48th birthday.
Currently, you're in your shared home, alone. Laying down on the massive queen-sized bed. With your phone in your hand, you texted him.
"Hello, love. Where are you already?" you typed.
After a few minutes, your phone buzzed, and a text notification popped up, showing Cillian's name.
"I'm in Ireland already. I'll let you know if I'm in Cork. I love you." Cillian replied.
"Alright. Have a safe trip, Cill. I love and miss you." you texted the last time, smiling like an idiot before turning off your phone, and placing it on top of the nightstand beside you. Getting comfortable, you pulled up the comforter up to your chest before turning off the lamp and sleep.
<>
You woke up to the sound of the front door being opened.
Yawning, you stood up, rubbing your eyes as you grabbed your white robe that was hanging on the back of your shared room.
As you walked down the stairs, you saw Cillian. His hair was longer than the last Skype call you had and you find it hot. His luggage and his carry-on bag were dropped on his side when he saw you.
You sprinted over to embrace him tightly and warmly, taking in his scent before planting a quick kiss on his lips. You felt planted in the moment, protected and cherished in his familiar hug. Everything else seemed to fade away as your heart was filled with the delight of being reunited. You drew back just enough so that you could meet his eyes and saw the same joy in.
"I've missed you, Cill," you said, smiling.
"I missed you so much, (y/n),"
Your lips and his made contact again. The both of you exchange a sweet and short passionate kiss.
You broke the kiss, letting out an exhale, your face still smiling.
"You must be tired, darling. Just leave the bags there, the kids will handle that tomorrow," you said, guiding the way to your shared bedroom upstairs.
You were shocked to feel Cillian's hands grab your face and give you a hard kiss as soon as you two got to the door. Your eyes widened at the quick action, but you were also craving for this. You haven't felt or seen each other in months. You gave him an aggressive kiss back, and as the kiss increased, you reached out to hold his neck and tasted one other's melting tongues once again.
"Cill - Aren't you tired? We can do this tomorrow," you interrupted.
"Oh fuck no. I want you now, love. I've missed you so much," Cillian replied.
"The kids aren't home, by the way. They're both in a sleepover with their friends."
"That's good. No one can hear you scream then,"
Cillian lowered you onto the mattress carefully and kept his kiss intact. You took off your sleepwear shirt and robe, exposing your hard nipples and breasts, as he carefully undid his shirt. Cillian bit and sucked you as he marked you as his, his lips moving from your jaw to your neck. You gripped a fistful of his hair and groaned with ecstasy.
"Fuck - you're so pretty .. and hot .." he muttered in between kisses, adorning your whole face and neck.
Cillian slowly kissed you lower and lower until he reached your covered cunt. Your black panties soaking from the recent touch. He chuckled, putting his face in front of your wet and needy cunt.
"So fucking wet for me, huh?" he teased, biting his lower lip at the sight.
"Oh yes, Cillian .. please,"
"Please what?"
"Fuck me, Cillian. Fuck me, please .." you begged, clenching your cunt feeling wetter and wetter every time he speaks.
Cillian let out a soft chuckle before removing your black lace panties. Tossing it on the floor. You can feel his breath in your cunt.
Finally, he devoured you. His tongue circled around your clit and sucked it harshly making you whimper loudly. The sound of his tongue doing magic to your cunt echoed throughout the room, eating you like a thirsty man.
"I missed you. I missed your touch. I missed your taste .. God, fuck, you taste so good," he praised, continuing to eat you out.
Your back arched at the pleasure, taking a fist full of his hair, pinning him down your cunt deeper, your thighs locking his face.
No words can come out of your throat to feel the kind of pleasure. You let out a series of moans and gasps, not even worrying if the neighbors can hear you.
Feeling a knot in your stomach performing, your legs trembled, digging his face deeper and deeper as you let out a very loud moan, your cunt clenching.
"Mhm cum for me, baby .. yeah that's right .. fuck," Cillian muttered as his tongue flicked your clit even faster, helping you to reach your peak.
"Fuck!" you let out a loud moan as you started to squirt. Your juices squirting all over his mouth and on the bedsheets. A white substance leaking out of your cunt.
"Shit, that was hot," he commented.
"No, Cill .. please, I need more .. I need you,"
"You've missed me that much, huh? Well, since you asked properly,"
Cillian removed his pants alongside his black boxers, tossing them on the floor. His cock sprung open, pre-cum leaking.
His hand strokes it for a while before entering you slowly, feeling how your tight cunt takes him. Cillian let out a low groan as he entered you fully. His pace started out slow, allowing you to adjust to his huge size. Your breasts bounce at each thrust as you felt his cock inside you. Slowly, he started penetrating faster and deeper, allowing him to pleasure all of your sensitive spots. You moaned out loud as you felt your g-spot touch his cock, your hands crumpling the bedsheet. His pelvis hit your hips as he thrusted harshly making a series of loud skin-clapping sounds.
"God, you feel so good, (y/n)," he groaned, his eyes fully shutting, feeling every spot of your cunt inside you.
"Yes yes yes yes! Oh, Cillian .."
You felt a huge difference with his cock and the toy that you have in your closet. When he was away, you would fuck yourself with a toy, imagining lustful scenarios of him fucking you harshly. His cock felt better.
"C'mon, baby .. let the neighbors know how much I fucking please you,"
You let out a much louder moan as you felt your orgasm coming again. Cillian's fingers toying with your hardened nipples as he harshly pounded you.
"I'm gonna - I'm.. fuck! I'm cumming .. I'm cumming, oh!" you shouted, feeling like bursting at any second.
"Me too, baby .. Oh yes,"
After a few harsh pounds, you finally came and so did Cillian. Letting his seed pour inside your walls, filling you up. Your legs trembled as you clenched your cunt on his cock.
Cillian finally pulled out, a huge load of your cum and his leaking out of your penetrated hole, staining the bedsheets again.
"Look at you dripping at my cum. You're such a good girl," he praised before kissing you but this time, more softer and passionate.
"I love you, Cill."
"I love you more, (y/n),"
You looked at the wall clock, checking on time. When your eyes saw the time, you smiled. It's 12 midnight.
"Happy Birthday, love." you greeted.
"Oh, it's my birthday now? I guess I deserve another round of gift, hm?"
Chuckling at his response, you playfully hit him on the shoulder before grabbing his face and kissing him again.
The two of you ended up sleeping at 4 in the morning that day. 
439 notes · View notes
pedgito · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 | Javier Pena x fem!reader
summary | your boyfriend delivers the worst news possible on what should be a day filled with love. luckily your coworker is there in wait, not allowing a perfectly good dinner reservation to go to waste. [2.5k]
content warning | this is probably the tamest thing i've ever written, who am i? mostly fluff, vague descriptions of your boyfriend (technically ex-boyfriend/some misogyny (not by javi), small age gap, co-workers, dinner dates and more, unrequited (innocent) crushes, minimal spanish (mostly just pet names), open-ended
author’s note | @pascalispretty happy valentines day!! this is my first time doing one of these and i was your secret valentine, but i hope you enjoy! i haven't written for javi in so long and i was really craving some soft!javi so this was a joy to write. i hope you enjoy!
You hated the stigma around holidays and what they meant, what they entailed, and why people upheld them so highly. But, here you were—tapping your fingers insistently against the desk across from the pool of DEA agents who would throw a file of paperwork on your desk and expect it to magically poof away and, by default, relinquish themself of any responsibility over it in the process.
You couldn’t fault them all—some of them actually managed to follow instructions. A signature here and there, all in order, leaving with little work to do other than file it away. Murphy followed it to a degree that made you think he probably has some time of background outside of here, back in the states. Always uniform, always proper—he’d been a good addition from the start and a perfect match to Javier Pena’s strong personality and unwillingness to give up control.
He also smiled at you every morning and offered a kind greeting, a small acknowledgment of your existence which couldn’t be spared by many others.
As for Javier—he did the work. There was never an issue, but halfway through an expository to a question he asks his attention is drawn elsewhere. Usually to one of the other few in-office secretaries or visitors that just couldn’t resist a bite at the overconfident and suave agent.
You could see the appeal, but that didn’t mean you had to like it—sometimes it impeded your ability to communicate with him and it really, really annoyed you.
Plus, your boyfriend was perfect. Too perfect that it felt unreal at times, but as all things in your life tended to implode on you—you were waiting for the ball to drop.
“Buenos días, señorita.” Javier greets with a smile that shines perfectly under his thick mustache, dressed in his usual pairing of tight jeans and form-fitting button up. This one was pink though, or a deep red. Jesus, how many different ones did he own?
You snort softly, “Morning, Javi.”
And you’re expecting that crisp folder to slide onto your desk but he’s traversing down the steps into the bay of other desks, straight for his. He’s still in eyeline, his and Steve’s shared workspace right in the center.
His eyes flit up briefly, scanning the room before they land on you again and of course you’re staring, but not for the reasons he’s assuming. And there’s a fierceness behind your eyes that he’s seen before, like he’s about to be lectured.
You grab at an empty file on your desk and hold it up lazily, eyebrows raising in expectation. 
“Oh shit,” He curses lowly, but not soft enough for you to miss before he’s reaching in his desk and holding up the paperwork, “Here—I’ve got it.”
You pluck the item from his grip as he approaches, this time lingering. He’s got his fingers spread out wide on your desk and he leans, practically towers as you sift through his work quietly before jotting something down on a separate sticky note and filing it away for the time being.
“Sorry, bonita,” He apologized, some sincerity in his voice, “I stayed late last night and finished it up but you were already gone—I don’t forget, you know that.”
“All good,” You offer a polite smile and he still doesn’t move, nodding kindly to a few women that pass by, seemingly more done-up than usual, “big plans tonight?”
A man like Javier, there was no way he spent Valentine's Day alone.
Javier offers a non-commital shrug and nods his head in your direction, “What about you? You got that boyfriend, right? Kid with the glasses?”
And okay, Javier was a good chunk older than you. Ten years, maybe. But, kid? Please.
“Yes, that kid.” You roll your eyes light-heartedly. “Um, I reserved a table for dinner at that restaurant Steve recommended a couple months ago. The one he took Connie to.”
“Yeah—yeah, I know that place.” Been a few times, it lingers on his tongue. It didn’t matter if he went alone, the food was decent enough. “You made the reservation?”
“Come on, Javi,” You slap at his forearm gently, “It's not that big of a deal—besides I just…need a break. I thought dinner would be nice.”
“You know I can’t judge you for living at this place,” Javier says around a soft chuckle, “I’m guilty of it too.”
Many nights spent stuck in the office with just you and Javier—the occasional appearance of Steve. It led you to learn a few things about the men, even if inadvertently.
When leads were dry, Javier will go through half a pack in a day and Steve would chew at his fingernails almost constantly, tapping and fidgeting nearly nonstop. They both had obvious tells—a more obvious one for Javier being the close-mouthed smile he gave to women he wasn’t interested in but still remained polite to while the other, the unabashed grin was reserved for the women who piqued his interest.
He's given you both, but that was beside the point. 
“Any recommendations?” You ask curiously, fidgeting with the plastic clip on your pen.
Javier considers it briefly, lips pursing together as he taps his pointer finger in thought, “Well, the Pescado Frito they have is pretty good—can’t really go wrong with that.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” You note, leaning back in your chair as you spot Steve making his way into the office.
“I thought you hated holidays like this?” Javier questions curiously, a sentiment he shared. They seemed pointless outside of the few that offered him a reprieve from work.
You shrug, looking away briefly to avoid his steadfast gaze.
“Well, I don’t think all of us are impervious to stuff—I wanted to do something…nice. I guess?”
Javier isn’t entirely convinced, seeing the uncertainty in your shy smile but he lets it go, slapping the desk lightly before waving a quick goodbye as Steve pulls him aside.
It had to be intel—and good intel at that by the way Javier’s face morphs into sudden interest, thumb and pointer finger brushing over his mustache.
And really, you shouldn’t keep staring at him. Not with that dinner on the forefront of your mind, the one you had so meticulously planned out for you and your boyfriend.
Things had to be perfect. There was no other option.
But, then Javier chances another glance in your direction and something swells in your throat—anxiety, sadness. You can't quite place it, but you swallow it down. Force it away.
Only a few more hours to go.
-
The call comes an hour before you’re due to head home, already packing up your belongings preemptively. And you smile at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice.
It’s been a few months. Good months. Too good.
He was younger, like you—some IT guy in his earlier twenties with a kind heart. Or, so you assumed.
“Hey,” You answer softly, lightly into the phone, “reservations are in a couple hours.”
“About that,” His voice sounds off, distant, “I don’t think I can make it.”
Your heart drops into your stomach and you find yourself chewing at your bottom lip in worry, watching wearily as Javier and Steve hold matching coffees in their grip, marching back to their desks in sync. Javier’s gaze lingers for a moment, a normal motion he did just to check on you.
Nothing more.
But, he spots the change in your emotion.
Still, he continues on.
“What—I—I’ve had these reservations for two weeks,” You reply in a hushed voice, trying to contain your frustration, “what happened—what changed?”
“I just—I don’t really know how to say this,” The dread is immediate, but your mind is filled with anger—rigid, bitter anger that wants to bite, “I think we should break up.”
“Are you fucking serious?” The small outburst catches the attention of you people but you avoid their gaze, even more pointedly Javier, who’s gone from inconspicuously spying to full on gawking now, alongside Steve who had a sudden interest. They’ve never seen you like…this. “Today? This felt like a good thing to tell me today?”
“I’ve been trying—“
“You’re an asshole.” You bite harshly, “You can pick your shit up from my apartment this weekend.”
You don’t let him have the final word, slamming the phone back down into the receiver and ignoring the gathering stares and sparse, hushed whispers.
You could sit and wallow, allow yourself to stew in regret and worry, wondering what you did wrong—but you knew it wasn’t you. It couldn’t have been. All the trying and trying and trying you do, the maximum amount of effort met with little enthusiasm. You were naive to think that things would work,
You’re thankful when the shift nears its end and people file out quietly, albeit with a few side-stares, you find yourself mulling over the idea of canceling the reservation completely. But, then there was perfectly good, hard-earned money going to waste. And you could eat by yourself, but the idea seemed even more miserable as you had specifically booked a table for two, decorations and accommodation to match. It felt ridiculous, in hindsight. 
You pass the stack of paperwork off to your boss as you step into his office, scurrying back to your desk with your head down—already prepared to go home and wallow in your self-pity.
“You alright?” Javier asks suddenly, jumping slightly at his voice as you turn on your heels, hip bumping into your desk in the process, wincing at the pain, “shit—sorry.”
He’s smiling to lighten the mood but it doesn’t help.
“You’re…fine,” You wave him off, leaning into the weight of the desk as he lingers, fingers shoved into the front pockets of his pants, “I’m heading home in a bit.”
“No dinner?” He asks curiously—if he was attempting to be coy he was doing a terrible joy.
It was only minimally amusing, cracking a smug smile at his obvious prying. 
“No dinner,” You confirm, “and he broke up with me, so…”
“Cabrón,” He says under his breath, but it isn’t lost on you, “I’m sorry—that’s…fucked up.”
You shrug, “Now I’m debating on canceling and wasting the money I put down to reserve it or looking pathetic if I show up by myself—“
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Javier defends, speaking entirely from personal experience. 
“Javi, it’s Valentine’s Day.” 
“And?”
Suddenly though, you’re struck with an idea. 
“Are you busy?” You ask curiously and Javier raises a curious eyebrow your way and smirks, “No ladies in waiting tonight?”
“Not yet.” Javier jokes lightly, knowing his usual routine of hitting the bar after work would end in one of two ways, and even if he didn’t mind spending his nights alone, it was nice to be in the company of others in whatever capacity.
“Go with me.” You suggest, poking at his bicep. “Since you love the place so much.”
“Come on, hermosa,” Javier chides playfully, “If you wanted to take me on a date, just ask.”
You grin wide, heart fluttering at the flirtatious tone he carried in his voice—it wasn’t something you weren’t used to, but it was never so pointedly directed at you.
“I am,” You tell him, “I just—I’ll need to go home and change first.”
His brow furrows and he looks you over, seeing nothing wrong, “Why? You look fine. You always do.”
It’s something he tells you daily—and maybe he has his own selfish reasons, though you know he does it to most of the women in the office, but the way he’s saying it to you now feels different.
He means it, no humor in his voice.
“My—” You can’t even address him in the moment, rolling your eyes with full force as you rub your fingers over your forehead to will away the lines of stress that form there, “I just—he used to say work clothes never complimented me very well. I already had a dress picked out, I can be quick.”
“Save it. I think you look perfect.” Javier affirms softly, keys jingling in his back pocket as he fishes them out, “I’ll drive us.
“But, my car—”
And hand breaches your shoulder, hot to the touch as his fingers curl around your form.
“Hey,” He’s searching for your eyes, waiting until they lock with his own and he nods, expecting the same motion to make sure you’re with him, “I’ll drive you there and back, you don’t have to change—we can enjoy some good food and forget about your shitty boyfriend, alright?”
You nod quietly, earning a gentle squeeze in response.
It wasn’t a date, not in the slightest. But, Javier did his damndest to make you feel like it was.
And maybe it was the guilt over him knowing you just got dumped—that whatever you had spent so much time planning had fell out underneath you, but it didn’t quell the nervous anxiety that you felt as you both sipped on a shared bottle of wine and your separate dinners, watching Javier grimace around the lip of his wine glass.
“Horrible, right?” You laugh softly, watching as he forces the liquid down and nods jerkily.
“Food is great, though—the wine,” Javier makes a face of uneasiness that has you covering a laugh with your palm, “—that’s why I stick with tequila or whiskey.”
“Can’t say I have much of a preference,” You admit, “as long as it does the job.”
Javier nods knowingly, stabbing his fork into a piece of food and chewing thoughtfully, the fingers of his unoccupied hand rubbing together as an idea forms in his head, “You know, if you’re not busy I was going to meet up with Steve and Connie for a drink. Later tonight—if you’re interested?”
You can’t believe how instantly you want to agree, blaming it on your impulsivity. 
“Javi, I don’t know,” You respond quietly, “I don’t—I don’t really go out like that.”
“Well—that dress you were talking about. It wouldn’t go completely to waste if you wanted to wear it out tonight. Plus, you treated me to a nice dinner—let me treat you to a couple drinks.”
It sounds like the perfect idea. Too perfect. Too good to be true.
“Javi,” You tease shyly, “if you’re trying to ask me out on a date just say it.”
Javier chuckles softly and you know it’s only an attempt to make a shitty day not so shitty, but the underlying chase you two have allowed to happen for so long now was unobscured by outside forces and you hated how easy it was for him to distract you from everything that had transpired today.
“Is that a yes?” Javier teases.
You sigh reluctantly, though a subtle grin pulls at your face, eyes soften at the expectant look on Javier’s face, all puppy-eyed and nothing like the man you’re used to seeing in the office. This was a side of him that felt new and you were curious to discover more. You nod.
“Well, hermosa—I guess it’s a date then.”
541 notes · View notes
starkwlkr · 1 year
Text
if you dance, I’ll dance | cillian murphy
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
2006
“Doesn’t this look nice? Look, I found the perfect matching earrings to go with the dress.”
Y/n stood in front of a mirror. It was a few hours before ‘The Devil Wear Prada’ premiere since she was invited by her good friend, Anne. Her assistant, Joli, was helping her get ready.
“I like it.” Y/n smiled to herself. This was her first big premiere, although it wasn’t her film, she still wanted to support her friend.
“Okay, oh my god, you look gorgeous!” Joli hasped at the sigh of Y/n.
“I just want this night to go great.”
Tumblr media
“Y/n! You made it!” Anne yelled over the shouting of the photographers.
“I did, you’re my best friend, of course I was going to show up for you.” Y/n smiled and hugged Anne.
“You have to come to the after party. It’s going to be so much fun.” The brunette laughed.
“Let me remind you what happened last time you and I went to an after party. I lost my shoe and you almost got arrested.”
“I promise nothing bad is going to happen at this one.”
Something did happen that night, but it led Y/n to the greatest love of her life. Yeah, she might’ve been a little too drunk and confused her future husband with Henry Cavill, but at least she has an interesting story to tell to her future kid.
It started with a shot of tequila. Then the one shot became two and then three and so on. Not only was tequila consumed, but a waiter had brought a bottle of wine courtesy of the great Meryl Streep who wanted to celebrate the film’s success.
“Wait, shut up, shhhh,” Anne placed her hand over Y/n’s mouth. “Oh my god, they’re playing Poker Face! You have to dance with me!”
“I don’t think I can keep myself up. Where’s the restroom? I might vomit or I need to pee, I can’t decide which one.” Y/n admitted.
Anne pointed towards a hallway that had a sign pointing to the restrooms so Y/n mumbled an ‘I’ll be back’ and darted to the hallway. Like any other after party she had attended, the line to the restroom was long. The sight of the line made her frustrated so she left the hallway and walked outside to get some fresh air.
The night sky was shining. Y/n could see some guests already leaving, some women had their heels in their hands, a guy was missing his coat, Y/n even saw Ryan Reynolds being dragged by his manager. That night, she couldn’t really remember if she had vomited on ‘Henry Cavill’ or if she even vomited at all. All she remembered was that some guy had told her she had a pretty smile and gave her his number which she held onto for the rest of the night.
Oh! How could she forget! She had also shared a dance with him to a sweet melody that she forgotten the name of.
‘Can’t Help Falling In Love’ by Elvis? No, that wasn’t it.
‘At Last’ by Etta James? Nope.
‘Unchained Melody’ by The Righteous Brothers? Not even close.
She tried so hard to remember the song that she dances to with the guy who made her smile so much. She just wished she could relive that night whenever she wanted.
“Cillian, his name is Cillian.”
BARBENHEIMER TAGLIST
@thatgirlthatreadswattpad @leclercloml
1K notes · View notes