Cillian Murphy's Characters x watcher (the tags would be x reader though)
Notes: Beware that there are some links you might not fuck with.
Also I'm sorry if you think I am mischaracterizing them with these links or you may find it cringy... Because I just goon to whatever EXECPT FOR THE LAST LINK! I just added that there because it suited Jackson and I can’t identify if the video was using makeup or real bruises but I hope it’s not real bruises. (This was also suppose to be complete p link with some of his characters I find attractive except I exceeded the 10 links)
Jackson Rippner
• You two were supposed to be spying. Not slacking off at work
Hey hello. You were talking about a sequel to "Lesson Learned" before if I recall correctly. Are you writing that sometimes?
Hey there! Yes I am! In fact, @jtargaryen18 can vouch for me that I’m working on it (she very graciously allowed me to bounce some ideas off her recently). But that’s a piece that’s going to be rather in-depth and detailed, so it’ll still take a while.
Begging for more Jackson Rippner imagines & smut that doesn’t have rape in it. I know he’s crazy, but Cillian is crazy attractive in that movie and I’d like to read something of this character of his that doesn’t include noncon 😭
Warnings | Smut, emetophilia aka vomit!!, dub con ish, degradation, humiliation, praise, bondage, face fuck, deep throat, voyeurism, fucking machine, established relationship.
Words | 1k
Notes | To anyone who’s confused about the setup of the fucking machine lol -> tw porn link
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
Kinktober | day 21: emetophilia
TW: a single fatphobic comment which could be triggering for ED’s (specifically bulimia)
A few days a week, Jackson made you train your throat. Sometimes that consisted of using a fucking machine, sometimes you wore a dildo gag. It was hard, but you liked pleasing him so you did it anyway… even though you really hated it.
“C’mon, sweetheart…” He said playfully. “Don’t tell me you need to tap out already?” You let out a muffled sound around the toy, then immediately choked again.
Jackson had tied your hands behind your back and used a clip to attach the loop on your collar to the fucking machine, right below the dildo, which effectively kept you from pulling off. Drool was spluttering out of your mouth and falling onto your bare chest, tears were streaming down your cheeks, and your body was lurching with each violent gag the dildo forced out of you.
Despite how poorly you were handling it right now, you’ve actually made a significant amount of progress since this “training” first started. Your gag reflex used to be a lot more sensitive, and it still was, but you didn’t vomit nearly as much anymore. In the beginning, you were vomiting almost every time he made you do this.
After the very first time when he found out you could eventually throw up if you did this long enough, he almost always forced you to drink some kind of liquid before so that the amount of fluid being forcefully regurgitated would increase tenfold. Usually it was water, occasionally it was milk or some other drink. Even though you really didn't like throwing up so frequently, part of you was a little grateful that he made you drink something beforehand since that meant that you mostly only vomited fluid, rather than actual pieces of partially digested food… Both were gross, but one made you feel slightly less gross.
“You have that look in your eyes.” He chuckled, watching you intently. You stared up at him, brows scrunched together as you focused on repressing your gag reflex. But you could feel it coming. You really hoped it wasn’t though because once it started, it was really hard to make it stop. Jackson checked his watch with an amused smile, then looked back down at you again. “It’s only been ten minutes, baby— you’re not even halfway done.”
You let out a sob that turned into a gag when the dildo hit the back of your throat again. You looked up at him as tears streamed down your cheeks, silently begging him to let you stop or at least let you have a break, but you knew there was no chance he’d ever show you that amount of mercy.
When you gagged so hard that your whole body convulsed, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying in vain to keep it down, but you could already feel bile rising in your throat.
“Come on, cunt. Let it out.” He encouraged teasingly, making you whimper around the toy. The longer you focused on taking deep breaths in your nose and trying to calm your gag reflex, the more impatient he got. After another moment he turned up the speed of the fucking machine just barely, but it was enough. Bile, along with some of the water he made you drink earlier, were spluttering out of your mouth as you choked.
“Good girl… You can do better than that though.” He turned up the speed again, and this time even more of it flowed out onto the dildo and down your chin. You squeezed your eyes shut again and tried to take slow, deep breaths through your nose, but then the dildo was going down your throat once more, making you choke and repeat the horrible cycle.
“God- you’re fucking filthy.” He snickered, clearly very entertained and pleased with your suffering. “One of these days I’ll make you drink my piss first— turn you into a pisspuke slut.”
You let out a strangled sob, the idea making you nauseous which was not helping your current situation. Jackson lowered the speed of the machine significantly, making you all but breathe a sigh of relief. The feeling was short lived though because he was suddenly walking around behind you.
For a moment, all you could do was anxiously await his next move, not sure what he was planning. Then his hand suddenly grabbed your hair and pushed your head closer to the machine. Even though the dildo was moving slower now, the fact that he was keeping you so close to it— forcing your lips almost past the flared base each time it went down your throat— still had you gagging and choking.
You retched again and tried to control it, but the stream of water and bile shot out of your mouth anyway. When you coughed around the dildo, the liquid spluttered out even more, and Jackson let out a dark chuckle from behind you.
“You should be thanking me, you know,” he chuckled, teasingly pinching your side. “You could stand to lose a few pounds.” You would’ve frowned if your lips weren’t stretched around the fake cock.
His free hand brushed your ass before slipping under to feel your cunt— not touching you from the front so you didn’t get puke on his arm.
“You can try to deny it all you want, but this greedy pussy tells me just how much you fucking love it, bitch.” When he dragged his fingers through your slit, you let out a moan that turned into a gurgling sound as you vomited again. The wet squelch of the dildo in your mouth and throat was loud and obscene, but you could still just barely hear how wet you were when he pushed his fingers inside.
“Hear that, baby?” He cooed mockingly, laughing when you choked again. “Such a fucking puke slut, aren’t you? Getting off on throwing up all over yourself…” When he suddenly ripped his fingers away, you let out a strangled sound around the dildo. He wiped them off on your tear stained cheek, smirking at the way your face scrunched up in disgust as a garbled whimper escaped you. “Keep fucking whining and I’ll make you lick up your mess when you’re done.” He growled threateningly, turning the speed of the machine back up.
Warnings | Smut, necrophilia, accidental murder, choking, anal, canon typical sexism, established relationship, the dove isn’t the only thing in this fic that’s dead 💀😭🫣🤭
Words | 680
Notes | I’m sorry if this is trash I highkey forgot how to write Jackson. (Also why do I feel like this will be y’all lmaooo)
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
Kinktober | day 13: necrophilia read -> 🫶
You were so perfect like this; tied up, gagged and blind folded… speared on his cock. He didn’t have to listen to you complain about how he was being too rough, or worry about pinning your arms down when you started trying to push him back. He could just focus on fucking you, and it was great… Until he got carried away.
He was choking you while rutting into your tight cunt, savoring the way you practically suffocated his cock. The squelching noises with each thrust were obscene, but he could barely even hear them over your muffled whining. He had no idea what you were trying to say, and he didn’t care. Every time you made a sound, he just squeezed your neck harder.
When you started thrashing under him, he almost regretted not tying your legs down too, but it didn’t last very long. Your movements were turning frantic and your muffled yelling seemed to get more and more stifled and choked.
Eventually, you went limp. He didn’t notice it for a few seconds, but then the silence finally registered and his thrusts slowed to a stop. He moved his hand away from your neck to pull off the blindfold, finding you staring blankly at the ceiling.
“Fuck.” He just stared at you, waiting for you to snap out of it or something, but you never did. You just laid under him completely limp and lifeless.
Jackson groaned loudly and closed his eyes— now he had to go through the trouble of finding another new cunt to use.
He started thrusting again, his eyes rolling back in his head as he groaned loudly, both in pleasure and irritation. He couldn’t help the way he started fucking all of his anger into you. Each thrust was jostling your limp body. As he got more frustrated and worked up, he fucked you harder and harder. You definitely would’ve been crying and whimpering by now, begging him to be gentler— you were always such a cry baby. Especially when he could’ve been doing something way worse…
He slowed to a stop again, realization washing over him.
He could be doing something way worse…
Without a second thought, he flipped you over onto your stomach and grabbed the lube from the nightstand. After pouring some on your asshole, he lined up, his body practically buzzing in anticipation.
As he pushed in, he moaned loudly and bit down on his lip at how fucking tight you were. He wished he would’ve done this earlier so he could hear your screams, but originally he was planning on waiting until at least the six month mark for that— he didn’t want to risk you leaving him for something as stupid as raping your ass, so he needed to make sure you were really attached first.
He couldn’t help the way he started pounding you. He’d already been close after a while of fucking your cunt, but being in your ass was something else entirely. The coolness of death hadn’t taken you yet and you were almost painfully tight, even without any tension in your body.
Jackson came with a choked grunt, closing his eyes to try and imagine the way you would’ve cried so pretty for him if you were still alive while he did this. Your tears were always one of his favorite parts of fucking you… Now he has to find someone else.
At the reminder, his orgasm quickly ended and he went still above you with a heavy sigh. Maybe that girl from the last job… What was her name again? Lisa?
He pulled out carefully and grabbed the globes of your ass to spread you open, watching a trickle of his come leak from your slightly gaped asshole. Yeah, Lisa should be fine. Easy enough to charm, hopefully. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to go through the whole “courting” process again. It was a shame though… your ass was practically perfect. Oh well. If you would’ve just stopped your whining this little accident wouldn’t have happened.
Guys I'm SO hyped for my new kinktober ideas. (I'm brilliant, quite frankly) So here's a little snippet of... Something. 👀
He knew when the ground beneath him was slipping away.
“You know I don’t bluff,” she said softly, stepping closer. “You made your choice the moment you went rogue. Now you’ll deal with the consequences in exactly the way I see fit.”
His eyes flicked toward the folder on her desk–the evidence, leverage, the knife at his throat. He wasn’t afraid of death; he’d faced it too many times to count. But her? She was different. She wasn’t a bullet or a mission gone wrong.. she was worse.
“I don’t like this,” he muttered, voice low and rough. “I don’t take orders.”
Her smile was slow, deliberate, cutting. “I know. That’s why this will be fun.”
He clenched his fists at his sides, trying to control the flicker of anger —and something else that crawled up his spine. Every option he considered ended in her victory. The real danger wasn’t outside these walls; it was her, and the way she could dismantle him piece by piece without even raising her voice.
“You’ll be a good boy,” she said, her tone final. “Every word and command, you do exactly as I say, and I’ll make this problem disappear. You’ll keep your freedom. For now. But if you screw it up again, Jackson... it’s over. Understand?”
He met her gaze, eyes sharp, calculating, defiant. He hated the terms. He hated her power over him.
The night was humid, restless, carrying the stink of the city all the way up to the rooftop. Neon bled into the sky below them, blaring car horns and sirens faint and far away, as if the world itself had slipped out of reach. The wind tugged violently at her hair, ripped her sobs away into the dark.
She had run. Hard. An hour of twisting alleys, darting down stairwells, slamming through doors. Her lungs had been on fire. He had let her run because he liked it. Because he liked watching her think she could escape him. Jackson had always been like that: letting the prey believe they had a chance before cutting it away from them in one clean stroke.
And now here she was.. half-dangling over the edge of a skyscraper, her spine bent backwards into empty air, the world hundreds of feet beneath her heels. Only his arms around her waist, only his grip in her hair, kept her alive.
Jackson stood braced against the rooftop railing, rutting into her with that feral rhythm, hips snapping forward so hard she jolted each time, balance teetering over the abyss. His cock shoved inside with unrelenting force, stretching her raw, his grunts jagged against her ear. He hadn’t even bothered to pace himself. There was no tenderness, no steady build. Just teeth-bared, furious thrusts, the rhythm of a man drunk on the kill.
The knife lay abandoned several feet away, glinting faintly in the dark. He didn’t need it anymore. He had her exactly where he wanted her.
Her nails dug into his shoulders, her thighs trembling and spread wide around his hips, clinging to him because there was nothing else to hold on to. Every thrust sent shockwaves of panic through her chest and not just from the way he split her open, but because each motion made the possibility of falling terrifyingly real. One slip, one mistake, and she’d be a smear on the pavement below.
Jackson liked that. She could feel it in the way he shuddered against her, every ragged breath heavy with excitement.
“Fuck…” His voice broke low and hot into her ear, and she could hear the smirk even without seeing it. “Better hope I finish before my grip slips.”
She sobbed into his neck, trembling, too far gone to spit venom at him anymore. Her defiance had burned out like a match in the wind, leaving only ragged whimpers and the desperate clutch of her arms around his neck.
“Do you want me to pull out?” His whisper was mockery itself. His mouth curved against her ear, teeth grazing her lobe as his hips slowed, pulling back until just the head of his cock pressed inside her, the rest of her cunt suddenly empty and aching.
And then he leaned back just slightly, his arms loosened. Enough for the illusion to become unbearable.
Her body lurched with blind terror, her feet slipping on the rooftop surface. “No! Please, Jackson, no!” she screamed, clinging to him like a child, arms and legs wrapping around him with feral strength. The motion shoved him deep inside her again, his cock ramming all the way in with brutal force, making her choke out a broken cry.
Jackson groaned, his laugh shaking against her ear. “That’s my girl.”
Now there was no slowing him. His rhythm turned relentless, hammering her against him with every sharp snap of his hips. His grip on her waist was bruising, keeping her suspended over nothing while he pistoned inside her. She could feel how much he loved it—how worked up he was, how close to the edge. The sound of his ragged breathing, the heat of his chest pressed to hers, the tremor in his thighs as he drove harder and harder.
“So you want me to come inside, sweetheart?” His voice was sing-song, cruel, like she’d asked him to take out the trash instead of decide her fate. “Alright then.”
His thrusts shifted, angling deep, bullying the tip of his cock against her cervix over and over until she cried out, writhing against the pain-sharp pleasure. The city howled around them, wind cutting her tears from her cheeks as he slammed inside, faster, deeper, his groans spilling freely now.
She clung tighter, whispering desperate pleas against his skin—“please, please, please”—though whether she was begging him to stop, to save her, or to fuck her harder, she couldn’t even tell anymore.
And then he came.
With a broken, guttural groan, Jackson drove all the way inside and held her there, his cock pulsing as he filled her up. She could feel it flood hot and thick, wave after wave, the force of it making her cry out again. His thighs quaked with the intensity of it, every muscle taut as he buried his face against her shoulder.
She held onto him like he was life itself.
And only after, when her body went limp, her sobs gone hoarse, when she sagged against him in total surrender... did Jackson laugh. A wild, breathless bark of satisfaction, his grin splitting wide in the dark.
The sound echoed across the rooftop, drowning out everything else.
