#David Dastmalchian smut

[tofuxtea]

𝟏:𝟏𝟗 𝐚𝐦 | 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — jack delroy x fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — nsfw, p in v sex, reader helps jack ‘relax’, slight coercion/convincing, unprotected sex, on a counter/table ? LMAO, rough sex lowk, cant think of any other tags, except its not proofread!

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 — this takes place right before the halloween special lol, def might be ooc jack but idgaf!! this took me two days to write i lowkey forgot how to write smut ?? discovered i was a lesbian and forgot how het sex worked my bad yall! anyways enjoy cuz i have yet to see a fic about this man.

the studio was buzzing with excitement when you arrived. crew members blew by you from every direction, barking orders and carrying pieces of halloween decorations that would be strewn around the night owls’ set within the next hour. tonight was the halloween special that was expected to bring jack’s show to the top, and he’d said he wanted you there to see it.

you’d only been there a couple of times — jack advising against you visiting him too often in case people started suspecting things about your relationship.

it was his first since madeleine had passed a year ago, and he wasn’t quite ready to go public yet. especially if it meant it would hurt any chances of the show not beating johnny carson’s tonight show.

afterwards would be your time, he promised you.

you hugged your coat closer to your body as you tried to navigate the set yourself, skimming over the panels beside every door until a familiar face came into view. you sighed, instinctively grinning when you spotted leo fiske, the show’s producer.

his stress-lined face shifted the moment he saw you, greeting you with a kiss on the cheek and a brief hug. “how are ya, sweetheart?”

behind his sunglasses, he looked you up and down and hummed softly. you flashed him a tight grin and pulled your coat shut. he was charming, sure, but sometimes he was more direct than you liked. something told you that he knew about you and jack, and probably threatened the latter with it, but if he did he hid it well.

“i’m alright,” you kept the atmosphere light with a laugh, “where’s jack?”

the mention of his name made the man roll his eyes and scoff. “jackass has been locked up in his dressing room for the past half hour.” you pouted, realizing how much pressure he must be feeling. “end of the hallway to the right. i’ll slide you a fifty if you can untwist his panties, alright?” leo joked, gently patting your shoulder before brushing past you. you watched him go for a second, watching him beckon a female crew member over for something.

you hurried down the hallway to the door leo had directed you to, relieved when you saw jack’s name next to the door. knocking gently, you waited for him to call you in. “jack?” you called out when he didn’t reply.

boldly, you cracked open the door and stuck your head inside, finding jack sitting at his makeup vanity while an artist stood poised at his side, patting powder onto his forehead.

she startled when she heard your entrance, and flashed you a curt smile before returning to jack. he noticed you only when the woman had paused for too long and gestured you inside.

“give us a moment, will you?” he murmured to the makeup artist, who nodded and left the room.

you waited until the door was shut and her footsteps had gone quiet before sliding your arms around jack’s shoulders from behind. “how’re things going?” you asked with a coy grin, pecking him on the cheek.

he groaned when he saw a faint mark from your lipstick and realized he’d have to get another touch up later. “as great as they could be.” he replied rather bitterly, making your smile falter slightly. you gave him a curious look in the mirror, and that was his breaking point. his head lulled into his palm, paying no mind to how his fingers ruffled his gelled hair. “i swear to god, fiske thinks i can’t fuckin’ do it. he doesn’t think i can pull it off tonight.”

you hovered beside him for a second, unsure of how to console him. “what do you mean? tonight’s been all the talk for a week now, it’s gonna do great, baby.” you tried to reassure him, gently shaking him by his shoulders in his seat.

this seemed to ease his nerves just a little and he sighed, sliding a hand up to grab your hand. he found your eyes in the mirror and smiled for the first time that night, then looked down at your outfit.

you’d picked his favorite red dress, pairing it with the little devil-horn headband tucked away in your purse. it was shorter than you liked it to be, often having to tug the glittery fabric back down the curve of your hips, but jack loved when you wore it. tonight was a special occasion, so you figured he’d appreciate it.

“i just don’t know what i’m gonna do. what if he’s right?” jack continued to ramble. “you know, he keeps tellin’ me christou’s gig isn’t gonna gain enough traction to get us up. gus was tellin’ me that he’s called an act in last minute and he hasn’t run it by me yet — i swear to god, if it’s that jackass carmichael—” he huffed and stopped when he realized he was getting too worked up.

he hadn’t realized you had peeled yourself off of him and was tossing your coat onto the couch beside him. “hand me a smoke, won’t ya sweetheart?” he pointed loosely to your purse, knowing you were carrying some.

you two smoked the same brand, so he often stole yours. you didn’t mind.

you handed him a cigarette and he leaned in for a light. he sunk back into his chair as he blew out a puff of smoke, the tension steadily chipping away.

“baby, you need to relax, alright?” you cooed softly, stealing a quick drag of his cigarette. “you’re gonna do great. you always do.” your lithe fingers gently rubbed at his shoulders, smiling as his eyes fluttered shut and he melted under your hands.

“c’mere.” he grabbed your wrist and tugged you around his chair, steadying you with his hands on your hips before him. his eyes raked down your body and he sucked in a sharp breath. “relax, huh?” jack’s voice was low now, deeper. it made your breath hitch in your throat.

“jack, i…” your eyes flickered over to the unlocked door and you took a step back. your ass bumped into the edge of his vanity. a startled cry escaped you. “you’re on soon.” you whispered with an uneasy grin. although, he wasn’t live for another hour or so.

as much as your stomach fluttered at the look in his eyes, you feared the embarrassment if someone were to walk in on you two. especially if you weren’t public yet.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” jack groaned, chasing you out of his seat. his hands caged you in against the vanity, one reaching out to smash his cigarette out into the ashtray beside you, and his body pushed against yours. he practically forced you on top of the counter, a few bottles and trinkets toppling over in your little scramble. jack took the chance to nudge his knee in between your legs, humming with satisfaction at the small whine you tried and failed to keep inside.

you ducked your head shyly, but he moved with you, coaxing you into looking up. when he had you, he could tell there was no going back. your lips parted as you glanced down at his.

“that’s it.” he whispered with a gentle smirk before he kissed you. you sighed into it, feeling his urgency as his tongue slipped past your teeth. your fingers wrapped tightly around his biceps, your legs threatening to give out underneath you.

they instinctively parted when you felt the tip of jack’s finger trail up the top of your thigh. your skin dimpled with goosebumps and you shivered. he had such a feathery touch until he reached the hem of your dress, stealing a quick glance at how it bunched up at the fat of your hips and revealed your red panties.

then his hand dipped in between your thighs, his fingers prodding at your clothed cunt. you whined, a little too loudly, and jack flashed you a warning look.

“can you be quiet for me, sweetheart?” he whispered. you hardly had the mind to nod, let alone comprehend what he was saying. your mind was fucking spinning trying to get a grip, and it didn’t help that jack’s middle finger was lazily circling your clit over your panties. “what’s that?” he taunted, chin lowering with expectancy.

“mhm, yes, yes i can,” you eagerly nodded, words stringing together in a barely coherent murmur.

“good girl.” jack groaned. he slipped his hand into the waistband of your panties, a smirk dancing on his lips when he felt how wet you were. “you wanted this, huh?”

you hadn’t entirely realized that he was talking to you, too busy working your hips against his heavy fingers. your body felt like it was on fire. you desperately pleaded for him to hurry up, for both of your sakes.

he looked down at your clumsy fingers as they tried to unbuckle his belt, but it was like it was welded around his waist. frenzied whimpers filled the room until jack finally helped you, almost taking pity on your incoherency. while he worked at the zipper on his trousers, you quickly slid your panties down your hips and around at least one foot. the thin lace dangled from the toe of your heel when jack captured you in another fervent kiss.

you feel the tip of his cock catch just below your clit and your breath caught in your throat. one of his hands slid to the small of your back, pulling you to the very edge of the counter. your legs widened for him, waiting.

he granted you relief, easing himself into your tight cunt. he groaned into your neck, stilling so he didn’t cum on the spot. “god, you’re so fuckin’ tight.” his voice shook.

he went until his hips were flush with yours, watching how your face contorted with pure ecstasy. your lips parted in a high cry and your eyes squeezed shut, and your head lulled back. jack stole the opportunity to latch onto your neck, adorning your skin with kisses and licks. you pulled him closer with your arms around his neck.

“shit, jack,” your fingers raked through his hair, neither of you caring about how pissed hair and makeup were going to be with him. long, dark strands fell over his forehead and tickled your skin. “jack.”

he loved how his name sounded in your mouth. how he always managed to get you like this, though for some reason it was quicker than usual that your face flushed and your eyelids drooped with arousal. it stirs something deep in his stomach and he slams into you, setting an unrelenting pace. he didn’t care that it rocked the vanity mirror back into the wall with a hollow thud.

your thighs hug his waist and your ankles meet behind him, silently pleading for more. “greedy little girl, aren’t you?” he whispers with half a grin. he draws a strained cry from you with each deep thrust, your cunt clenching in fluttering pulses around him.

“fuck,” he hissed, knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. he knows you wouldn’t either. your cries were growing louder and louder and more frequent. the mirror kept tapping against the wall and things kept rolling off of the counter and onto the floor. tears gathered in your eyes, painting your eyelashes each time your eyes squeezed shut. though each time you did, jack would remind you to look at him. he gently shushed you at first, then used his mouth when you weren’t listening.

your back arched into his chest as you came with a cry of his name, jack murmuring into your ear, “good girl, that’s it.” your body seemed to melt in his arms, going near slack as you came down from the high he was fucking you through.

it was only a few more thrusts until he came, barely managing to pull out before painting the insides of your thighs. he knew you would be pissed that it got on your dress once you realized, but he didn’t care.

after a minute of blissful silence, jack checked his watch. “shit, fiske’s probably lookin’ for me.” he rolled his eyes as he buckled his belt, praying to god that his beige pants were relatively stain-free.

if push came to shove, he’d tell him that he spilled his drink in his lap. he gave you room to get to your feet, watching with quiet pride as your knees wobbled pretty noticeably.

you tugged your dress down your hips, absently searching for a tissue box. a smile crossed your lips when you looked up and you lifted yourself onto your tip-toes to press a kiss to his lips.

“knock ‘em dead, baby.”

lowkey surrounded this smut based on the “secret relationship” trope and the last line. lowkey ass and rushed but enjoy!

[how-serene]

Devil I know - Series (Out now)

Pairing - Obsessive!Jack Delroy x Fem!Reader

Summary - A bad string of luck leads you right to his feet. Warnings - dark!jack delroy, 18+, nsfw, dubious consent, smut, masturbation, stalker tendencies, possessive behavior, jealousy, mention of death, mention of cancer, invasion of privacy, mention of smoking, fem reader, fem pronouns, set in the 70s so expect sexism, abuse of power, jack is not a good person in this, overall creepy behavior from jack, cults, rituals, mention of religion, no use of y/n, implied age gap, personal assistant!reader series masterlist (coming soon) | main masterlist

First Chapter

[jackdelroysbump]

Mr. Midnight

Jack Delroy X Reader

No mention of (y/n) in here by the way! Warnings: NSFW, Drug Use, Alcohol, Voyeurism (ISH), Jack is feral, SMUTTY SMUTTY sex, and all kinds of things of that nature.

Summary:Leo hires you to be on the show, Jack can’t help himself around you. Words:+6100

Notes: Omg hi I've been working on this for a little bit but I'm happy to present this finally. I've been obsessed with this movie since it came out and had to write something about Jack. Hope y'all enjoy mwah (I also write for other horror films just send me an ask and I'll answer.).

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April 15th, 1977

You had been called in as a last attempt to help Jack's dwindling show by your close friend, Leo. He’d known you personally from working alongside you as a producer on other projects you were in. Laverne & Shirley and Charlie’s Angels were just a few shows you had done with Leo, but this would be your first live UBC production show with him.

“Jack’s been very fond of your work, he was upset I didn’t call you sooner. He might not even be thinking with his head in this.” He chuckled at his crude innuendo of Jack's thoughts about you before taking a drag off his cigarette. While he smokes his cigarette, you take your final look over the main script since there was no dress rehearsal. Putting your script down, he looks at his watch, it is close to time and he nods you to follow him.

Trailing behind Leo, you took in your new surroundings, you knew you had to be fully backstage now. Intertwined cords were laid along the floor, and other crew carried equipment around trying to reach their designated location. It had to be your first time working in an environment that was very unorganized and very fast-paced.

Having trouble keeping up, you began to think that wearing heels was a mistake, wobbling amongst the floor behind while stepping on cords. Another two minutes passed before Leo would stop, finally finding Jack.

"Jack we are on in fifteen, show our new one around and get her set up, please! No questions asked!" Jack was standing turned away from you both, looking back as soon as he heard Leo loudly declare. His gaze softens when he looks over from Leo to you standing behind him.

"Oh good, Leo listened to my pleas. Hey there!" He quickly excuses himself from the group of people he was talking with. Heading over to you both, you finally got a good look at Jack.

One of his hands had a glass of what you only guess at the time was some cola with ice. His hair was kept nice, neat tan dress suit with his striped tie in place. You couldn't help but feel a little underdressed standing before him as you had a simple denim jacket with a small button-up and a jean skirt on. Getting closer was when you realized how much taller he was than you.

"Good to meet you finally! Big fan." His free hand reaches out for a shake and you happily take it. His grip was tight, taking the breath out of you for a moment at his touch.

"Okay get to it Jack, now I have to get these goddamn papers to Gus since he forgot his lines and we roll in thirteen!" Leo rushes past, slightly knocking into you, separating you two. It wasn't normal for you to see him like this, you could only think it was just going downhill for him.

Jack couldn't help but let out a little laugh at Leo's haste to get the show on the road as if it were his usual.

“Well, I’ll show you to our seats.” He starts to guide you carefully around the tight spaces towards the exit to the stage. The sliding door opens and you can see out onto the main set and the seats where tonight's audience members would be sitting.

Knocking you out of a slight trance, he places his hand on your shoulder giving you a light push. Moving you towards where he had you assigned to sit.

"And that's where you will be sitting, we will come out that door and take a seat over here. After I talk to the crowd, you will come out a little after me then we will start our first talk on here." He continues on leading you back to the door. You both head back through the sliding door, waiting for it to close in silence.

When it closed, you both were slightly too close that the tension almost made you uncomfortable. It wasn't until moments later that you curiously peeked over, looking up in your peripherals and you could see Jack's eyes on you. In your head, you thought he would notice you looking at him but he paid no mind his eyes were looking low. You knew immediately what Jack was thinking when you piece together where his gaze was set on you.

"Are you nervous?" Jack questioned you as he noticed you were slightly shaking.

"No, just star-struck to be here." Your reply almost sends Jack into laughter.

"Starstruck because of me?" Jack exclaims almost sounding desperate and shocked at someone he saw as a favorite actress who was flustered to meet him. You nod and everything goes silent again.

Ten minutes had passed and by that time the audience seats were full of people conversing, curious about what Jack's show would talk about tonight. The bell ringing could be heard from where you two were, signaling the show was starting.

"Well, all I can say is just pretend we've been good friends for years, always works doll." He noted, standing straight as you moved away from the door, so you wouldn't be in the shot.

"Tonight's broadcast is brought to you by Eclipse Enterprises of companies, go get it while you can," Gus announces, half the lights dim in the back over the audience while the rest go brighter on the set.

"Live from UBC Studios in New York City, it's Night Owls With Jack Delroy, joining us tonight is our surprise new co-host, James Randi, Carmichael Haig, and closing us out will be Miss Cleo James but now here's Mr. Midnight, Jack Delroy!" Gus turns as the door opens and Jack comes out waving to greet everyone. He comes out and stands in front of the crowd.

"Good evening night owls! Thank you for tuning in once again. We have an amazing show lined up for you tonight." You move back to the door, hearing Jack declare to the crowd. It was only time until you'd be up next.

After talking to the crowd, and cracking a few jokes with Gus, he starts to announce you. You brush off your outfit as a last attempt to make sure you are neat.

"I'm glad to welcome my new co-host, she's been on television screens before. Give a good warm welcome!" Jack announces, and the band plays a beautiful melody as the door opens.

You walk out, waving out to the audience as they clap. Some screaming out, fans of the shows you are in. Walking up to Jack, you hug him, and he returns the action hugging you back tighter than you expect. After letting go you give him a quick kiss on his cheek to play up for ratings, taking him by surprise. Making your way over, you sit down watching a flustered Jack try to hold his composure as he walks over to his seat.

"Wow! Now I have a few questions if you don't mind." Jack adjusts in his seat, waiting for your cue.

"Sure thing hit me, Jack." You sit back in your seat, uncrossing your legs as you take your jacket off.

"Was the outfit in the new episode of Charlie's Angels your idea?" A few people in the crowd whistled at the question as your face slightly dropped you knew immediately what he was talking about.

The costuming department had put you in a maroon, tight, jumpsuit showing more skin than people were used to on television. You let out a giggle before speaking, brushing off the slightly awkward feeling that you had.

"Yes sir, did you like me in it?" You question him, and he takes a loud sharp breath not expecting your answers as they were off script. He looks away from you to the audience before answering as if he were bashful.

"I'm not gonna say no." Some men in the crowd react; some "ooo"', laugh and whistle. You couldn't help but laugh, you knew he had to have written that question.

“Now for some of the viewer's questions tonight, are you single?” When he wasn't looking at that card, he practically was eye fucking you at this point.

“Wouldn’t you like to know Jack?” The audience is filled with 'ooo' and whistles as Jack comically pulls his tie from his neck as if it were truly tight. A visible growing blush flooded his face, you'd never seen Jack so flustered.

"Last one, how do you make your hair look so nice?" He takes the card and puts it into his suit.

"I use Faberge Organics, It makes my hair so soft." He watches you as you play with your hair, twirling it between your fingers. Staring him down, he smiles at you before looking to the audience.

“Well folks, you heard it from here! We're gonna take a quick break, we will be back after these messages." The band begins playing again as the show goes to commercial.

"Alright, we're off!" Phil states after the bell buzzing sound plays throughout the set.

“Okay good, if you need to get anything now would be the time to get to it.” Jack hops up from his seat and walks back through the sliding door following a few crew.

You stand up from your seat, making your way back looking for something to clear your dry throat.

"Amazing job, you never let me down, especially with that improv. Keep up the good work." Leo stops and gives you a quick pat on the back before going back to his duties.

Continuing to make your way through the backstage you had come across a set of water bottles sitting on a table. After taking one, you sat in a random chair at an empty makeup stand: you had put your purse on top as it was unclaimed. You scoot in your seat as you take a tube of lipstick from your open purse, sitting on the stand.

‘Good thing there’s a clock back here.’ Thinking to yourself, you kicked back relaxing for a moment. As you were zoned out eying the fancy simple clock in front of you sitting on the counter, you didn’t notice that Jack had sat in the seat next to yours.

He places his hand on your outer thigh, fingers pinching the fabric of your skirt. His sudden shameless actions couldn't be seen by anyone else, you both were far scooted into the stand. It almost frightens you until you notice it is only Jack's hand. Obviously, he had enough of your mental teasing earlier, it was his turn to play.

“So far so good! Say isn’t this your first time on live television?” Jack tried starting a conversation as he slowly moved his hand up; waiting to see if you broke as he scooted his chair closer to you.

“It is sir.” You asserted calm and collected, trying hard to mask the fact you were a shivering mess again as his grip got tighter on your thigh.

“Just call me Jack sweetheart.” He whispers into your ear, his breath hitting your neck making you quiver. It was hard for you to keep your composure in your seat, legs tensing slightly as he swirls little patterns with his finger on your upper thigh.

"You know we have five minutes until the show starts back up." You couldn't help but melt in your seat as you looked into his eyes full of desire. If only you two weren't in the middle of a show, Jack had calculated the timing and possibility of seeing you off the air.

"Five minutes to do what Jack?" Asking curiously, you fed into his words, continuing to look into his eyes while blinking your eyelashes towards him. He couldn't stop himself, his hand started eagerly trailing under the fabric of your skirt.

Reaching your inner thigh, his fingers grip into your flesh. If you hadn't looked at his face you couldn't tell that he was so close to snapping like a twig at your mercy. His mouth parted open, breaths getting more heavy and short as he toyed with you. He wanted this so bad.

You start to see the beads of sweat on his forehead as he gazes at you hungrily. Curious you decide to look down, eyes wandering at his lap. Stopping when you see that his tight tan dress pants couldn’t hide that he was extremely hard even in the dim light that was under the stand.

You couldn’t help but stare in desperation, your mouth parts open when you watch his cock twitching from in his pants. He sighs in pleasure at your lovely reaction to him. Leaning over close to your ear, he whispers low.

"That's all for you sweetheart, don't be afraid to touch it." He lightly grabs your wrist, placing your hand on his aching hard bulge. It was warm to the touch and hard, it felt like it was trying to break out from how much force it pressed into the fabric every twitch.

"How are you going to hide this now? Jack, it's so big." You couldn't help but give him a light squeeze before tightening your grip as you asked. A loud whimper fell from his lips. It wasn't any secret that he loved praise, especially from someone with his dick in their hands.

"Fuck, You have no idea what you've got yourself into now. Think you can handle me?" He asks as he starts to move his hand from your inner thigh to your panties. Softly taking his fingers, he trails a circle at your slit from the outside teasing you, the fabric starting to dampen. Getting rougher pressing into the fabric every time he moves his fingers up and down.

"You two we are on in five! Now if you two don't get the fuck out there, we won't have a show!" Leo bellowed out making you jump, your hand flew up off Jack hitting the stand in the process as Jack slid his hand away. Jumping up you move your skirt back down, trying to blow off the fact Leo caught you two practically touching each other. You clear your throat and go out to the set through the doors.

Taking your seat, you look out to the audience who are slightly confused about how late you got back out. It was now three minutes till air, and Jack hadn't arrived to set yet. You throw a reassuring smile to the crowd trying to pass off any worry. Jack comes out not even a second later, two drinks in hand making his way towards you.

"I don't know exactly what you'd like so I grabbed my favorite, if you don't like it just let me know." He hands you a glass, taking a sip of his own as he sits down. Looking into the glass you could see that it looked like what Jack had been drinking.

Not thinking about it, you take a swig. It was whiskey and not soda which you thought it was earlier. Playing it cool you try to not bring to the attention that you did not prefer the taste at all by taking another drink.

It felt like a blur after sitting through the first guest James Randi, he showed everyone the bending spoon trick, you had an idea earlier this was just a simple episode about skeptics who were also magicians.

"I'd like to bring on one of my dear old good friends, Carmichael Haig everybody!" Jack announces as the band plays, an older man comes out and sits in the seat next to you.

After Jack's usual questions and snide responses, Carmichael started to dig into his jacket pocket. Jack shifted in his seat waiting for Carmichael to pull out his main tool for his main act.

"I'd like to show everyone a little trick that people pull on others for a quick buck. I will start now with my trusty pocket watch." Trailing off he brings out a pocket watch opening it up and hanging it up to where you and the crowd could see it. He swings it with his hand covering before revealing the hypnotizing pattern.

"Keep yourself relaxed and stare into the spiral. Everyone at home is welcome to do so too." All you could think was there was no way his little trick could work on you as it sounded made up. Watching as he swung it back and forth, you kept your eye on the hypnotizing spiral.

When he stopped, he sat silently putting the watch back in his pocket. You waited to see if he’d move but he sat still in place facing forward. It seemed to you that you were right that it didn’t work and now you’d be waiting for the next steps.

After waiting for a few minutes in silence, you began to turn looking to your right. Jack was sitting in the seat next to you; his chair not fully facing forward but slanted out where you could see most of his body. He sat legs wide open with his arms folded across his chest, a wide grin on his face. It wasn’t until you looked over that you noticed something wasn’t right, his gaze upon you could say everything you needed to know as it oozed arousal.

His eyes burned into you, making you jump in your seat. You look away, embarrassed that you caught him staring at you. The burning feeling at the pit of your stomach grew as you dug your elbows into your chair.

Looking back after a few seconds you watch as he begins to take his tie off while still gazing straight at you, tossing it to the ground the moment it is loose off his neck. Speechless you look at the crowd for any comment, and it starts to click. All audience members were frozen in place. Their eyes still and locked looking towards you two while staying silent as the dead of night.

It wasn't long before you could hear the sounds of more clothes hitting the ground taking you back, intrigued by what was happening before you, Jack had taken his suit jacket off. All you did was sit still watching as he slowly crept towards you. He stops, getting behind you while bending down close to your ear.

"You wanted to see what I was going to do with my hand earlier, didn't you honey?" It felt like your heart stopped and fell flat straight to your guts. He places rough bites on your neck from behind, his teeth almost sinking into your neck.

You stayed still as his hands went from around your neck to your button-up. Lightly pulling on it you watched as he precisely unbuttons your top. Reaching over he grabs at your breast hungrily, groaning as if it was that pleasurable for himself.

It felt as if you were nauseous with a strong feeling of wanting from him. You reach your arm over your head, fingers finding his hair and gripping it tight.

"I've been watching you eye the fuck out of me since earlier, is this what you wanted you little slut?." Jack's voice echoed from right behind you, the change in his tone sent shivers down your spine.

You felt his hand go from your breast down into your skirt, eager to put his hand in your panties. He moves himself, on his knees as his other arm reaches around.

"I won't let you get off so easily.” His hand reaches into your underwear, his fingers making their way inside you. His free hand moved to cup your mouth, muffling the sounds you were making

He thrusts two of his fingers in and out of you, taking his thumb and rubbing your clit. He knew just how to torture you. It wasn't until he let go completely that everything snapped.

“Dreamer here awake!” Carmichael screams out to the crowd snapping his fingers.

“Dreamer Here Awake,” Jack whispered into your ear from behind.

Snapping you out of a trance you never thought you could have. You look down, your clothes still intact, blouse buttoned and in place. Gasping you sit at the edge of your seat, trying to keep yourself from freaking out. The audience gasped as Carmichael had actually shown everyone else a giant spider.

"I- I have to go." You stood up from your seat and began to walk off. You turned to look at Jack who was getting off his knees to stand up from behind your chair, slightly reaching out for you trying to stop you from leaving.

“Well we’re going to take a quick break, when we get back folks Carmichael will give us some insight into how he does his little trick after these messages.” You could hear him as you walked off, the door opening when you got to it.

Making your way back, a girl comes up holding a tray with different mixed drinks out towards you. Taking a drink off the tray, you say a quick thanks before moving out of her way.

Without even thinking, you down your drink, unknown to you it was another drink of whiskey. You never expected to be so buzzed after a few drinks, but you underestimated your tolerance. Having hit you like a brick instantly. Standing in front of a mirror you could see your surroundings behind you, you could see a concerned Leo coming up to check in.

"Everything okay? I watched Jack whispering things into your ear, you get freaked out and make weird faces. Look if he said anything to make you run away you tell me right now. I'll run straight to him and set him straight." The amount of concern on his face could kill if deadly.

"No Leo, I was just spooked by the act, that's all!" Throwing a reassuring smile back at him. His shoulders relaxed as soon as he could tell you were serious about Jack not making you leave. He places his hand on your shoulder and gives you a slight pat on the back.

"Alright, I'm glad I was worried I'd have to give him the scare of his life, he knows how I feel about wanting to keep you on here." Leo quickly left, turning away and walking over to the crew over to the side.

Looking back into the mirror you begin to fix your hair, taking no notice that Jack has now spotted you alone. Jack noticed you hanging out to the side, looking into the mirror at yourself. He comes up close from behind, his head tilted making it where no one can see what he is saying.

"Sorry if that scared you out there, I've seen his little trick before and found my ways to toy with it." He reassured you, trying to give you some sort of comfort. Turning around, you were met face to face with him.

"How? Jack that felt too real! Your hands-." You couldn't help but blurt out before he cut you off with his hand.

"If this is too much you have my word to run away. I'll tell Leo to get you into another great project. Or if-" Your hands reach for his tie, grabbing and pulling his face closer to yours. Causing him to drop his hand at your mouth.

"If what Jack?" It was no surprise his antics had turned you on, the way he had eyed you down previously made your stomach feel as if were tied in knots. You watch as he starts to piece it together, his eyes widen, and a little smile forms on his lips. He looks at his watch before he gazes back at you.

"Well sweetheart, meet me in my dressing room after we get done on the air. I can show you other things I can do with my hands." He lightly smacks your behind as you two begin to walk off to close the show.

As the audience starts standing up to leave, Jack thanks the crowd before striding off the set to the backstage area. You take a few minutes to yourself, stopping to talk to Gus before going backstage.

"Hey there, nice first episode! You brought the ratings up fifty percent, I owe you my life. Celebration tomorrow night!" Leo exclaimed as he caught up to you walking back to your purse. He pulls you into a small hug before letting go abruptly.

"I have to go tell Jack!" Leo hurriedly rushes away leaving you by yourself. You get to your purse, cleaning up the stuff on the stand. Looking into the mirror, you checked your makeup for what you thought was the last time you'd have the chance before you would again be face to face with Jack.

After checking to see if the coast is clear, you sneak down the hall looking for his dressing room. Luckily the floor was carpet, hiding the sound of your heels, keeping your cover clear. It wasn't long before you came across a door with writing on it. 'Jack Delroy' was labeled on the door with a gold star next to it, you lightly knock. Immediately hearing movement, you knew he had to be desperately waiting for you.

"Come in!" After you hear Jack yell through the closed door, you walk in and close the door behind you. Taking in the scenery it was a spacey room with a twin futon, side tables with plants sitting on top, a makeup stand, a standing lamp, and a few collectibles. The room smelled of flowers as he had a candle lit on the table.

“Nice of you to join me.” Jack had his just long sleeve button-up shirt with his tie still on, he stood with an ashtray in his hand. His radio on the side table played soft rock from the local radio station.

He had a cigarette lit in his mouth, you couldn’t help but stare and think that he looked so good in the dim light. Coming in closer, you take the cigarette from his mouth as you sit on his futon. You take a drag looking up at him, smiling as you blow the smoke back at him.

“Oh hey, I was just about to light this one up.” He walked over to one of the tables, grabbing something off it before sitting down. Holding it out to where you could see it up close, you could finally tell he grabbed a joint.

You’ve smoked before, but never with your colleagues. He lights it up, taking a hit before passing it to you. You happily oblige and take a hit as well.

“Wait Jack smokes the devil's lettuce?” You dramatically jokingly ask him as you pass it back to him. He cackles, coughing out smoke in the process.

“There are things you don’t know about me” He takes another hit before passing it back to you. Starting to get comfortable, you uncross your legs.

It was about a few hits and a moment later before it kicked in, you watched Jack as he picked up a drink he had made from earlier. You started to get hot, deciding to undo some of the buttons on your shirt. Unbeknownst to you Jack noticed, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Want a sip? It’s something different from whiskey.” He offers you the cup, gladly taking it. You take a sip, sneering as you realize you took a big sip of vodka. Laughing, he takes the drink back and sets it on the table.

“What game are you trying to play Delroy?” You could feel the heat between your legs grow. The way he set eyes on you, a predator eyeing its prey before taking a leap.

Leaning down he takes your face into his hand, moving your face to face his. Placing his thumb at your lips, you open your mouth. Taking his thumb into your mouth lightly sucking at it. He groans as you do, pushing it into your mouth more before pulling it out completely. Standing up, he starts desperately unbuttoning his long-sleeved button-up.

“God you’re so fucking hot.” Throwing it off he comes back over to you. Leaning over, he places his lips onto yours, leaving soft lingering kisses. He pulls you up as you put your hands on him, hands gripping his chest. Starting to get rough, Jack takes your lip between his teeth, and his hand wanders down to your body.

You smile at Jack before you drop down to your knees in front of him to unbutton his pants. Undoing the buttons, you pull his pants down with haste. He now just stood in his briefs, waiting for your touch.

Now it was more prominent how big he truly was, his briefs are white but the tip could be seen from how much pre cum was leaking from his cock. You couldn't help but put your face up against his clothed dick. Leaving little kisses through the fabric. He took no time to tear his briefs off, his cock swinging up when it was free.

Going in you start kissing the tip, moving from the base down to his balls. Taking them into your mouth, lightly sucking on them. He whimpers as he feels your tongue tracing random patterns on him.

His hands gripped the edge of his makeup stand as you swirl your tongue around him. Tracing the veins you could feel while sucking in your cheeks. He takes your hair and holds it back, gathering it together until he has one hand around it like a ponytail.

Getting a good grip on your hair with one hand, he begins to thrust his cock deep into your mouth. Face fucking your throat, you couldn’t help but make little whimpers around him every time he hit the back of your throat.

That only made him go faster, your fingers grip his hips as he ravaged your throat. He couldn’t help but let little moans pass through his lips as you gagged on him, shuddering with every thrust.

Pulling you away from him, he makes you sit on the futon again. You couldn't help but grin at him as you sit there admiring the man you have in front of you. He was desperate to have you, needing to touch you.

“Please violate me, Mr. Delroy.” It was like you had seen a switch flip as he made towards you again. Taking your top with his hands, ripping it apart; the buttons flew as he tore it apart.

Pulling the cloth from your arms, he then goes for your bra. Unlatching it and tossing it aside, your chest was now bare to him. He gets down on his knees up close and in front of you. His hands come up to cup your breasts, squeezing them before leaning down to put a nipple into his mouth. Sucking on it while his fingers toyed with the other, pinching and pulling at it.

Letting go, he pushes you back and goes for your skirt, pulling it off of your body. Taking one of your legs, he moves it to the side, spreading you open. He couldn't help the amount of joy he had as he instantly noticed the damp spot on your panties.

"How long have you wanted me? Wanting me to fuck this tight little pussy?" He leans over you, his hand holding onto your thigh before he tears your underwear off, throwing them behind him. Standing back he admires your naked body sprawled out in front of him.

"Jack I've wanted you since I've laid my eyes on you while watching Night Owls." That response made the heat burning in his groin get worse. He needed to fuck you.

“Jack I-it's not going to fit.” Nervously confessing as you began to process his size would be inside you. You couldn't help but stare down in amusement at him standing there, his hands rubbing up and down his own body, hard cock out on display.

“Oh sweetheart, I'll make it fit.” He stood towering over your limp body on the futon. Stroking himself at the sight of you waiting for his touch. Getting down on his knees in front of you, he slides his knee in between your legs, spreading them further apart.

With his cock in his hand, he rubs the tip against your entrance. Slowly pressing it in, he brings it further down before stopping halfway. You couldn’t help but let out a loud moan in surprise as he finally pushed his way fully inside you. While inside you he undoes his tie and puts it around your neck, tying on your neck like a chain. Not taking another second of waiting he begins to move his hips. Starting with slow thrusts, savoring the feeling of being inside someone once again

He takes both your hands putting them over your head, pinning them down onto the mattress. You couldn't help but scream out as he started going faster, his grip getting tighter around your wrist.

It wasn't long before picks you up, slamming your back against his makeup stand. Swiping off whatever cologne, scripts, and ashtrays he had lying on the ground. He glides himself back into you, unleashing a loud guttural moan.

Shaking the wardrobe his thrusts start up again, hungrily pounding into you. Grabbing at the tie tied around your neck he pulls your face closer to his, going in for kisses before moving to your neck. He eagerly sucks at your neck, leaving a little love bite to show as you grab at his back.

The door opens, and Leo walks in with a small mirror that has a few lines of cocaine before stopping at the sight of you two. Jack still rocking his hips into you as your fingernails dug into his back. His cock stretches you out in front of Leo. In shock, he takes a second before stepping back out and closing the door.

“God, do you like it when I pound into you like this?” He holds your legs with his hands, pushing them higher, making it easier to slam into you. You could feel his cock hit the hilt of your insides, causing a sensation of pleasurable pain making you cry out.

Your back hit the mirror so hard as you let go of his back that you could hear it crack. The tie in Jack's hand that was still tied around your neck helped him get a hold of you with every thrust. He pulls it roughly forward dragging you from the mirror, dragging you forward. You wrap your legs around him making him closer to you.

Grabbing you by your hips he swiftly turns around, laying back on the futon leaving you on top of him. You adjust yourself, knees on both sides of him. Starting to move, you balance yourself as you go up and down. Riding him as he held onto the sheets withering underneath you.

“Holy shit.” His eyes closed shut as his breathing became heavier. Whimpering when he could catch his breath, your fingers pressed into his chest as you leaned forward.

As you push yourself up and down his hard cock, he takes his hand over to your aching pussy, putting his thumb on your clit. Rubbing circles on it, causing you to whine out, losing control you had over your body. Your legs shake as you cum on his cock. Losing your senses you lay down on him, giving him the go-to start. He wraps his arms around you before thrusting up into you. Sweet soft moans poured from his lips as he fucked into you.

“Oh fuck!” His hips rut up into yours losing control as he shoots a thick load of cum into you. Moaning out as he rides out his orgasm, hips starting to slow down. After taking a second to catch his breath, you get off of him. Standing up you got to find your clothes.

"We cannot tell anyone about this, but this won't be the last time. That was so fucking hot." He sits up, getting up to get dressed as well. You found your shirt annihilated forgetting that he had ripped it.

"I broke your shirt but you can put on mine." He hands you his long-sleeve button-up shirt. After you both get dressed, you both make your way out to leave to go to his place.

Walking out of the UBC building you two were swarmed by a group of paparazzi people taking pictures as they spotted you.

"Is this the girl you are seeing months after Madeline's death?" A reporter asked as he kept his head down, completely ignoring them. He flags a car down and you both hop inside off to his house.

After spending the rest of the night relaxing together by the TV, you remembered what Leo had told you earlier.

"Oh Jack, Leo says we have a party tomorrow to celebrate ratings." Jack turns to you surprised at your announcement.

"What! He didn't come to tell me anything about this after the show."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The End (Maybe??!?)

Hi again, I hope this isn't complete dookie and that y’all like it. This took so long to make but I'm glad to get it out. If you guys like it I will probably make part 2. If I come back and find anything I written that I don’t like ngl I’ll probably come back and write on this again. Peace out-C

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

For your ask game ~ 📖 🦉 🔞

Worth the Risk - Jack Delroy/Reader

Warnings: Female reader, no use of Y/N, making out, almost fully clothed grinding, clothed fingering, bit of exhibition/voyeurism, vaginal sex.

Wordcount: 6317

Summary: He'd given you his card, invited you to the studio with the promise of a good time, and the show had been amazing for sure, but did the night really have to end once the cameras turned off?

Notes: I really wanted to write this the other day but I was too sleepy and went to bed early y'know like a baby 😖 anyways I've been wanting to do a sequel to Susceptible since I first posted it and somehow it ended up even longer so this is for you hehe hope you enjoy~ 💗💗💗

Wait for me by the back entrance at 11:00 Phil will let you in JD

You don’t know how many times you’d looked at the card he handed you since that night, but the corners were starting to bend and the pen marks were beginning to smudge, just a little. You forced yourself to leave it be as you checked your appearance one last time, the mirror by the front door to your apartment offering its final encouragement as you decided there was nothing left you could do to delay your departure before you were late. As soon as you were out the door you had to resist the urge to sprint, your heels sending muffled echoes down the hall as you headed straight for the elevator, a kindly old woman holding it for you with a smile. 

You had the sense to call a cab early so you wouldn’t have to risk waiting and missing your 11PM deadline, the car stalling right outside the door as you waved to the driver and got inside. ‘Fiske Studios, please,’ you tell him, the small building owned by a branch of UBC now very well known thanks to a certain Mr. Midnight. Your leg bounced the entire way there, the card once again in your hands as you stared out the window, neighbourhoods giving way to open city streets, more cars circling around you like a school of fish. You hated driving in the city, it was the main reason why you dedicated so much of your paycheck to cabs, but tonight you were starting to wish you’d driven yourself as you hit the tenth red light in a row.

The driver sensed your anxiousness as you bit your lip for just a split second before your purse was opened and your lipstick was uncapped, the tiny mirror in your hand reassuring you that it’d be fine, you looked great, it was an easy fix. ‘Hot date tonight?’ he asked over his shoulder, his voice startling you a little as you snapped the mirror shut again.

‘Uh, going to a live show, actually,’ you said cautiously, avoiding a yes or no to his question; it’d be too presumptuous to say yes, but god if you didn’t want to hope. ‘I’m meeting a few friends there, don’t wanna be late and all.’

‘Oh, well, girl’s gotta have some fun on a Friday night, I guess,’ he said as he looked you over in the rearview, your coat pulled a little tighter over your shoulders as you forced a smile and tried not to look to disgusted; this was yet another reason why you were so fond of Jack Delroy, he’d never make you feel that way, what with him being such a gentleman and all.

The memory of the night you met made you shiver briefly as the hallucination flashed through your mind again, the false feeling of his hands on you having haunted you all week. You sucked in a very long breath through your nose as you willed the pink to leave your cheeks again, the last thing you needed right now was this guy seeing you get covered in goosebumps and assume it was because of what he’d said. You actually hadn’t been able to watch Night Owls since that night, feeling almost guilty about it even though there was no way he would know you hadn’t seen all the exciting things he’d been talking about. You’d tried last night, but as soon as the wall had opened and he’d strolled on out with that smile and his eyes instantly finding the camera you’d become a right mess way too fast and had to turn it off again, your heart pounding and your legs pressed uncomfortably tight together just at the sight of him.

Goddamn you Carmichael Haig.

The studio came into view with the latest turn and you readied yourself to get out, money already in hand by the time the car had stopped. The bill was settled and you stepped out into the cool night air, cutting off the driver’s wish for you to have a good night with the slamming of the door, and you took a look around and tried to guess which way would lead to the back door he’d mentioned. You waited until the car was out of sight, pretending to see your ‘friends’ so it wouldn’t look like you were about to walk down a dark alley by yourself, another deep breath exhaled sharply as you summoned up all of your courage and headed to the right.

It was a large alley, big enough for a car to drive down and reach the parking lot out back, which thankfully held just as many people walking about as the front did. A lot of them favoured a large, metal door up a tiny flight of stairs, keycards flashed to unlock it before it was held open for several people at a time, everyone helping each other in the most efficient of ways. You had no idea which one Phil was supposed to be, and if you waited too long you might get pinned as a fan trying to sneak in, so the next time someone approached the area you were lurking in you got the card back out and held it out to him.

‘Um, I’m supposed to find Phil?’ you said uncertainly, the man looking you over before taking the card. ‘Ja- Mr. Delroy told me to meet him here.’

‘How’d you meet Jack?’ he asked, clearly recognizing the handwriting but wanting to be certain all the same as he handed it back to you.

‘At Carmichael Haig’s show, we got to talk for a little bit,’ you explained, your nerves starting to rise the longer you were out there, the paranoia that you wouldn’t be able to get in starting to rise in your chest.

‘Ohhh, so you’re the one he was telling Gus about,’ the man said with a grin, your back straightening at the very thought of Jack talking about you with anyone, let alone with someone in a public place. ‘Yeah, he told me to expect someone, I’ll take you up there now if you help me carry something, save me a trip?’

You agreed to his terms, the man apparently being Phil as he shook your hand and handed you the box he was balancing on one arm as you talked. He quickly jogged back to his car to grab another box before returning to you, the door held open for you both as you squeezed past another employee and followed him through the maze of hallways and way too many doors to count. The studio itself was actually on the second floor, the first dedicated to offices and meeting rooms and other businessy things, the elevator able to just barely let you both cram inside as everyone got ready for the taping.

‘Is it always this hectic?’ you asked before you realized you were even opening your mouth, Phil just laughing and adjusting his box.

‘Every single night.’

Once the elevator had pinged and the doors had slid open, Phil then led you through a few more hallways until he pushed through a locked STAFF ONLY door, even more people on the other side, although there was more to the area back here, your eyes widening when it hit you that this was the back of Jack’s set. Phil noticed your excitement and set his box down on the nearest table, taking yours in another swift movement before motioning towards the slightly ajar wall panel; the audience’s seats were just in view through the crack, some people already coming in and finding their spots, and you were just in the middle of wondering if you should attempt finding an empty one when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

‘Quite the view, isn’t it?’

You turned to see Jack standing behind you, a look of pure bliss on his face as he watched the band get ready, Gus talking to someone and going over scripts off to the right, the few audience members chatting with each other as they guessed what they’d see that night. He truly loved this job, you could tell he did even after doing it for so many years, and seeing him so in love only made you love him even more. He looked down at you then, a fondness in his eyes as he gave your shoulder a squeeze and led you around back, a little tour before you had to leave him.

‘I’m glad you came,’ he admitted as you took everything in, everyone shifting their gaze towards the both of you as long as they thought they could get away with it. ‘Been looking forward to tonight all week, what did you think of the lineup?’

‘I, uh-’ you trailed off as he pulled you out of the way of a staff member carrying the requested items for tonight’s guest, your coat suddenly feeling way too warm to still be wearing inside. ‘I missed out on them, actually, been a busy week,’ you lied, avoiding his face as your cheeks lit up; you were not about to tell him that it was because looking at him made you remember how he’d felt pressed up against your waist, even if it was fake.

A shiver ran up your spine as you then realized that the heat against your back very much wasn’t however.

‘I’ll have to tell you all about it later, don’t want you missing out on anything,’ he said with a grin, your lips trembling as you tried to keep your smile from getting any bigger. There was no way he’d actually do that, he had to be too busy to entertain you when the PMs turned to AMs, but it was a nice thought indeed.

‘I’d like that,’ you admitted either way, happy to live in the fantasy for just a little bit at least.

‘Jack!’ someone called from just out of sight, a curly-haired man in sunglasses hunting him down with expert precision as he hurried over. ‘Gus just told me you’ve been saving seats all week, you wanna explain why that is?’

‘And there’s my cue,’ he whispers in your ear before using your shoulders to turn you and guide you back to the slit in the wall. ‘Middle front row, furthest left seat,’ he whispered before pushing you to the other side, his attention turned to his producer as he descended upon him for losing them money. You listened for just a second before it hit you that you were there, you were really there, your mouth dropping open as you slowly spun to check out the Night Owls set. People were whispering about who you might be but you didn’t care, not leaving until you heard Gus clear his throat and ask what you were doing.

‘Finding my seat,’ you mumbled, although maybe it had come out as nonsense in your delighted stupor, you couldn’t be sure at the moment.

‘Okay, do you have a ticket?’ he asked, still so polite even though he was very much confused. You just held up the card again, your eyes going higher as you stared at all the lights. ‘I see, so you’re the one he’s been waiting for, right this way.’

The one he’s been waiting for? Clearly you must’ve misheard, Jack Delroy couldn’t possibly have been that excited for you, you’d only spoken for maybe five minutes, tops.

Gus led you to your seat and you instantly sank into it, a 40 minute wait still ahead of you but it felt like no time at all as the rows all filled up and people slowly stopped walking across the set to prepare. On either side of you, cameramen took their places and lined up their shots, the blue screen of the viewfinder catching your attention as you couldn’t help but see what they saw. Gus got himself ready by the band, who were all tuned up and ready to go, and when midnight hit and Gus started calling out that night’s guests, you couldn’t help but bite your lip again as Jack’s name was announced and the wall opened up again to reveal him.

He’d been right, it was an incredible show, his presence so much more overwhelming as you could only focus on him no matter who he stood or sat beside. Every single one of his jokes landed, every eccentric wave of his hands drew you in without fail, and every single smile he shot your way when you laughed only confirmed more and more that you were genuinely glad you came. He tried to talk to you during the breaks but each time he’d been interrupted either by one of his co-workers or someone in the audience ready to snatch up his attention, Jack too polite to refuse either, although it was honestly starting to make you a little jealous.

Before you knew it, his hour had passed and he was saying goodbye, your chest deflating as he was played out again along with his final guest, your hands a little numb as you gave him his well deserved applause. You didn’t want to get up and leave as the rest of the people around you did without hesitation, a chorus of yawns starting to infect everyone like a virus now that it was officially bedtime. You were rooted to the spot, hands clasped in your lap as you wondered if it’d be too presumptuous to assume that maybe he’d come back out again when everyone was gone, wish you your own personal goodnight, people staring again as you waited until you accepted that you’d fulfilled his request, there was no need to stay now.

‘Oh good, you’re still here,’ Jack panted as he jogged over to you, a sheen on his cheeks and forehead from the excitement of the night mixed in with the hot stage lights, ‘I was worried you’d leave when Leo grabbed me just now.’ 

‘I’m in no hurry,’ you told him as you stood, your clasped hands hiding behind your back so he wouldn’t see you fidgeting. ‘It was a great show, I had a lot of fun tonight.’

His smile turned from Showman Jack to Genuine Jack at that, your ability to always tell coming in handy yet again as you tried to hide your blush by tucking your hair behind your ear. ‘I take it you had a more enjoyable time with me than at Haig’s, then?’ he asked, your blushing deepening at his choice of words.

‘I did, yeah.’ Everyone was packing up for the night around you, no one giving you a passing glance as the desire to get home and sleep overtook their curiosity, and when he stifled a yawn you couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty at keeping him. ‘All good things must come to an end though, I suppose; I should really get heading back, it’ll be a nightmare to find a cab this late.’ You didn’t want to go, but you also didn’t want to press your luck either, and maybe you’d get another invitation to another show, who knew?

‘I could give you a ride, if you wanted,’ he offered, completely catching you off guard as your eyes widened for a second in surprise. ‘Or, if you’re truly a night owl like me, you’d prefer to join me for a drink? I always grab one after a show, can’t sleep otherwise.’

You swallowed, mouth cotton dry as you went over his offer in your head a few times; was he asking you out on a date? He had to have been, who else went out to get a drink together at 1AM other than people on dates, right? ‘Yeah, a drink sounds great,’ you finally managed to squeak out, the corners of his eyes scrunching when he smiled before offering his arm for you to take, a true gentleman. He led you back through the labyrinth until you reached the parking lot, his car parked in a spot with his name plastered against the wall behind it, most of the other cars already gone now that their owners were free.

His car was simple, nothing too flashy like someone else in his position would own, the seats worn on the inside and telling you that he must’ve had it for many years. You tried not to look too nervous as he unlocked his door and let himself in, his long body stretching across the front so he could unlock the passenger side as well; an old car indeed, he was taking very good care of it for it to still look that good. You thanked him as you sat down and shut the door, the smell of his cologne stealing your breath away as you were surrounded by purely him, the faint smell of smoke mixing in with it, your eyes fluttering shut as you tried not to look too obvious.

He shot you a glance as he clicked his seatbelt into place, the noise making you come back to your senses and do the same so he could start driving. There were quite a few bars around there, some late night diners as well, and you grew more and more confused as he drove by all of them without a word. By the time you left the city and started to head towards a more residential area, you were starting to wonder if you were going for a drink at all, not remembering ever telling him where you lived, of course this neighborhood was much too nice, maybe you should be flattered if he thought you lived around here.

‘Are we still…?’ you tried to ask, your question dying out as he then turned into the driveway of a very nice but modestly sized house, all the lights off inside telling you that no one was home. He didn’t turn off the engine though, his eyes on the wheel before he turned to you, a hopeful something in his eyes that mirrored your own.

‘Would you like to come inside? Or should we try calling that cab?’ he asked you gently, giving you the choice of what you wanted to do now that you knew where you’d be drinking, your heart thumping a little faster as you adjusted the strap of your purse and flashed him the most confident smile you could muster.

‘You did promise to tell me all about the shows I miss,’ you reminded him, Jack’s smile softening as he agreed with a, ‘Yes I did.’ The engine shut off and you both exited the car, the night air making you shiver as you held your coat a little tighter over your arms. He noticed immediately, his suit jacket draped over you before you could confirm or deny you wanted it, heat spreading throughout you as the scent of his cologne hit you even harder. You wrapped yourself up in it, face tucked into the collar as you headed for his front door, always a few steps behind until he unlocked the door and pushed it open, allowing you to go in first.

It was a modest place, decorated more cozily than anything, and you felt right at home as you stepped inside and took a look around; the walls held photos of family and friends, his coworkers and people he’d met through Night Owls spaced out around them, the surfaces of every table and shelf decorated with something and filling the space while also feeling sparse. Cozy was definitely the right word, but it also felt like a bachelor pad in the way he’d left clothes draped over the back of the couch, how the kitchen was pristinely clean from rare use based on the amount of menus he’d collected into the holder by his phone, and the dedicated minibar off in the corner so he could entertain guests.

He headed there now as you observed your surroundings, his voice breaking your thoughts as he asked you to pick your poison. You gave him your desired drink request, Jack’s eyes shining as he located the bottle amongst the plethora of them in his reserve, whisky placed next to it as he located a couple of glasses next. ‘Ice?’ he asked casually as he poured both drinks, you kindly refusing as he grabbed a couple for himself. The ice crackled in his glass as he returned, the sound pleasant to you and filling the air as he handed you your drink. ‘I’d offer you a seat at the table, but my back is killing me tonight, if you’d rather join me on the couch?’

What a liar, you could always tell when he was acting. You accepted anyways, pretending to buy into it as you both took opposite ends of the old leather couch situated in front of his fireplace. The cushions creaked underneath as you sat down, Jack letting out a sigh that didn’t sound fake as he relaxed, his body sinking right in before he took a sip and turned to look at you. You blushed and looked away, focusing on your glass as you swirled the contents around, now wishing for ice since watching it would be a good distraction.

You’d been so focused on his home that it was starting to dawn on you that you were in his home, on his couch, drinking his liquor, his focus on nothing and no one other than you. ‘Dreamer, here, awake,’ you whispered softly under your breath, remembering what Haig had said to snap you out of it and needing to make sure this wasn’t just another dream.

‘What was that?’

Oh god, it wasn’t a dream, you were really here, and his arm was now on the back of the couch, casually reaching towards you as he tilted his head to the side with an amused grin. 

‘So, how did the shows that I missed go?’ you quickly choked out, Jack chuckling at how your voice sounded way more broken than you’d wanted before downing the rest of his drink and setting the empty glass on the coffee table in front of him.

‘Well, on Monday I got to interview someone about his upcoming play, so that was interesting,’ he began, his body turned more towards you as he spoke. ‘On Tuesday, we had a man who sailed halfway around the world and narrowly survived being shipwrecked, and he read us an excerpt from his captain’s log, which he revealed he’ll be turning into a book to preserve the memories of his shipmates.’ He slid a little down the leather, genuine interest in his eyes as he spoke, that another thing you loved about him. ‘Wednesday was Game Night, as you know, and one of our audience members managed to win the jackpot and gave us a victory dance to celebrate. Gus tried to attempt it and fell on his ass, so everyone made me try it and I nearly crashed into my stage, everyone had a lot of fun that night.

His voice started to soften as he moved a little closer, your body frozen in both awe at what you’d missed and also the sight of him starting to fill up your entire view, your drink forgotten in your hands.

‘And then on Thursday we took a call from a man who thought he had superpowers, can you believe that? He truly believed he got them from another dimension, so fascinating.’ He was just about to slide over the middle cushion, your legs pressing tightly together so you wouldn’t touch him on accident, your lip worried between your teeth again. ‘I asked him to come on the show, but he hung up, I hope he calls again next week.’ His arm was completely behind you you finally noticed as his thumb brushed against your shoulder just enough for you to feel it over your coat and his suit jacket, the heat of both starting to make you sweat as he stayed just outside your personal space, ever the gentleman as he waited for you to tell him to back up. 

You didn’t, your tongue darting out and tasting your lipstick as you glanced to the side, seeing just enough of him to know that he didn’t look dangerous, or overly sexual like your fantasy had been, his actual expression one of wonder as he remained just out of reach. You felt like you had to comment on his week, say something in response to what he was telling you but you couldn’t, the sound of his thumb running over the fabric directly in your ear as you finally took your first sip.

‘Sounds like I missed a lot,’ you eventually said, Jack nodding and shifting as he got comfier, the movement sending him a little closer to you. ‘Maybe you should invite me back again, I could probably make time for that.’

‘I’ll have to see if I can get you an actual ticket this time, then, Leo was very unhappy I snuck you in.’ His voice was so low as you took another, bigger sip, his arm sliding off the back of the couch and just barely resting against the very bottom of your neck.

‘Is that what that was? I’ll be sure to use the front door next time.’ Another sip, his other hand in plain sight on his thigh as it traveled down towards you. 

‘I think I’d prefer to escort you in myself, so you don’t get lost, it’s like a maze in there.’ You watched his hand just barely touch the hem of his jacket, a soft hum leaving his throat as his eyes half-lidded. ‘You look good in this, I might have to let you borrow it more often.’

‘You assume I’ll need it again? How presumptuous of you,’ you joked in an attempt to keep things light, but it fell flat as you looked at him while you said it, his expression rendering you speechless in seconds. Now that you were facing him he couldn’t resist the urge to touch your cheek, his fingertips just barely brushing against you and making you shut your eyes as you tried to lean against them, the contact causing shivers to run down your spine at how incredibly gentle it was.

‘I really am glad you came tonight,’ he whispered as he leaned in, breath soft against your face as you both held off from closing the gap, ‘god, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.’

You nearly dropped the glass, Jack placing his hand over yours to make sure you didn’t before taking it away entirely. ‘Y-you’re just telling me what I wanna hear,’ you repeated from your fantasy, Jack leaning away to set the glass down before letting his forehead rest against your own.

‘Is it working?’

You grabbed onto his tie and pulled him into you, your mouths crashing together as you kissed him with all the need of someone who’d wanted this for years. He braced himself on the back of the couch as you leaned against the arm, your body arching up as he rearranged how he was sitting to kneel over you. He wasn’t as forward as your fantasy, which was understandable considering you knew very well that he’d only acted the exact way you wanted, but instead you discovered that he was slow, making as many points of contact as he could while giving you space. He was obsessed with kissing away the rest of your lipstick but he never tried to take more than you were giving him, your bodies still too far apart as he caressed you.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he repeated as his hand left your jaw to travel down to your hip, not to hold down or make you keen but just to feel the soft curve of your body; he was committing you to memory, tracing over each wrinkle in the fabric, each place that made you squirm just a little.

‘Jack…’ you sighed as he pushed both coats aside to gently kiss at your neck, small things that made you want beyond the sweetness, the love. ‘Don’t make me wait anymore, please…’

He pressed a single kiss to your jaw at that, sitting back just enough so he could look at your face. You turned away, embarrassed by your neediness, but he turned you back to him with only a whisper of a touch, a plea instead of a command. ‘How long have you been waiting?’ he asked, lips hovering just above yours, pulling away when you tried to close the gap.

‘Years.’

He kissed you again, a little rougher this time as his own need was made clear, his body shifting down until he was laying himself on top of you, and for however real your fantasy had felt, it was fucking nothing compared to the weight of him pressing pure want directly into your waist. It made you gasp how good he felt, your legs spreading until your skirt wouldn’t stretch any further, the desire to hike it up all the way so you could feel him a little better making you almost actually do it. It was him who made that move when he felt you struggling, your legs pressed into his almost uncomfortably, and he placed his hands at the hem and waited for your okay, not wanting to do anything without your permission.

What a fucking gentleman.

You nodded and he lifted your skirt, your back arching off the couch so it could be bunched up, your underwear on display just the smallest amount before your skirt was let go. That small amount made him blush, his lips parting as he then palmed himself to ease the strain of his own clothes, his nice suit pulled taut over his dick as he kneaded. It made you want him even more, the fantasies of seeing him like that deciding to play like the world’s longest and lewdest film in your mind, reminding you of every single thing you wanted to do to him, what you wanted him to do to you.

‘I want to feel you,’ you told him, his eyes fluttering shut like the quicktalking showman Mr. Midnight couldn’t handle a bit of dirty talk; he was so cute it almost hurt as he moved his hand aside for you, granting you access to the space while he tried to undo his belt. You rubbed him over his pants, listening to the sounds he was making and letting your desire grow with each one, and when his belt was undone and his zipper was down you tugged just his pants over his hips just enough to show off his bulge a little better. It strained over the opening, the sight so tantalizing that you’d risk staying hypnotized forever if this really was just another dream, his body laying down over yours again as you wrapped your leg around him.

He started to grind against you, the fantasy definitely not doing him justice as a sinful heat warmed you up in an instant, the coats much too hot as you tried to strip them both off. He helped you but didn’t stop moving, each thrust just enough to create the best friction you’d ever experienced. There was no audience this time, no one to risk ruining this for you, and you took full advantage of that as you let out a deviously loud moan when he rubbed against you just right. 

‘God…’ he panted into your neck, hips moving just a little faster, and it felt good but it wasn’t what you wanted, not entirely. You reached down between where your bodies touched to try and get a hold of his boxers, your nails catching over the waistband just out of reach. He felt your attempts and knew what you were trying to do, his face unsure even though he still couldn’t stop. ‘Are you sure?’ he needed to know, his hips finally stilling for the most part, your eyes watering with how much you meant it as you told him yes. He groaned as he reached between your legs, feeling your wetness seeping through your panties as you moved against him, your head instantly falling back.

The sounds you let out were indecent, he wasn’t even inside you yet and he was making you fall apart just because it was him who was doing this, his fingers rewriting your brain and telling you that you’d never be able to get off on just your imagination ever again. He played with you as his other hand pushed his boxers down the rest of the way, his dick falling free and making him hiss as he gave himself a few strokes, the sound getting you to look up. Your legs twitched as you almost came just from the sight alone, his eyes shut tight as his head lolled to the side, his impressive length looking even bigger in his hand as he got himself ready.

As soon as he felt your eyes on him he locked onto you, his big, showman smile showing a little more teeth than usual as he let you watch, his own sounds almost addicting as he let you know exactly how good his own hand felt. Between the sight and his hands making the both of you feel good, you didn’t know how much more you could take of this before you were shoving him down, Jack sensing your desperation and leaning back over you. He pulled aside your panties and rubbed you a couple more times before pressing his waist against yours, spreading your wetness along the underside of his shaft, grinding against you this way until you were practically begging him to do more, please.

He chuckled at your reaction before taking himself in hand again, spreading it even more before holding himself up to your entrance, one last chance to back out. You made sure to lock eyes with him as you grabbed his tie and pulled him down to you once more, your mouth falling open as he pushed deep inside of you the more you pulled. You didn’t stop until you were full, the two of you panting into each other's mouth before he started to move, both of your legs wrapping around him this time as you tried to take him even deeper.

It was hot, you were sweating, you could see the sheen on his cheeks and forehead again as he suffered in the almost entirety of his suit versus your outfit, and you helped him relieve some of his suffering as you started to unbutton his shirt. You shoved it off one shoulder before he was tearing it off of himself and tossing it away, your own shirt pushed up to reveal a heaving stomach, muscles working hard under the flesh as he thrust into you, your body unable to move with him thanks to the arm of the couch keeping you in place.

It ensured he always hit the deepest part of you since your body couldn’t shift away, one of your hands on your stomach while the other took his own and placed it on your chest. He began to knead you over your bra, it soon out of the way as he yanked it down and wrapped his mouth around a nipple, his motions speeding up a bit as you tangled your now free hand into his hair. ‘You feel so good,’ you couldn’t stop yourself from saying then, starting to get overstimulated, and at your words he jerked a little erratically, like it’d made him stumble. ‘You- you were so handsome tonight, did so well, I couldn’t stop staring at you…’

He was moaning nonsense into your chest as you praised him, something about what you were saying making him fall apart; his head rested against you as he rutted into you with wild abandon, your hands just holding him there as you kept whispering what he wanted to hear. You meant it, every word, but to know that this much was making him practically whine against you was also addicting, needing him to know everything you felt for him, how proud you were of him, how you’d never be able to feel anyone but him for the rest of your life.

‘Come inside me, make me yours, I want to be yours,’ you pleaded, Jack grasping at you like a drowning man grasps at his saviour, a few more thrusts making your head fall back before he did just that. His hips jutted a few more times as warmth filled your insides, the sensation mixed with his broken gasps bringing you over the edge as well, his nails digging into your flesh where he held you, your hands thoroughly messing up his perfectly styled hair. When he was done he collapsed against you, his weight once again so incredibly nice as he pinned you against the cushions, the leather sticking to your skin and keeping you very much in place.

‘If I’m too heavy-’ he started to say before he shifted and cut himself off with a whine, his attempts to get up thwarted immediately.

‘You’re not,’ you reassured him, your fingers attempting to straighten his hair back into place, a small courtesy for him letting you grab him so hard in the first place. ‘We can just… stay a while.’

‘Do you wanna risk that? I might fall asleep on you like this,’ he asked like it’d be a bad thing; what a gentleman.

‘I think that’d be worth the risk,’ you told him as you kissed his forehead, Jack reaching up to cup your cheek before gathering all his strength to kiss you goodnight.

[wojcheks]

Stuck — Murdoc x F!Reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: NSFW, enemies to fucking, unhealthy relationships, undercover mission gone wrong, reader works for an unspecified organization, sexual tension, rough treatment, tied up, dub!con (?) (reader wants it but physically can't leave), choking, biting, fingering (f!receiving), PIV, unprotected sex, blood, possessiveness, murdoc is his own warning. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.1k 𝐀/𝐍: first smut i've ever posted!! the david dastmalchian obsession finally got me y'all. while looking for fics of his characters i decided to write my own. i only watched two episodes with this man so i'm pretty sure he's incredibly ooc. hope it's enjoyable regardless! ❤

You were told you’d be working with a wild card during this mission.

They assured you it wouldn’t affect the overall difficulty of the job. In fact, your partner had excellent skills in all the areas useful for achieving your objective. Weapons expert, proficient in hand-to-hand combat, knowledgeable, and calculated in his actions. All good things in your line of work.

What you didn't know was that they assigned you Murdoc.

And that was information that one needed to know prior to running face first into the aforementioned man. Especially during a job that would undoubtedly involve violence. For fuck’s sake, you would tear your handler a new one after this was over and done with.

Your first instinct was to put a fist through the hitman’s face.

A fair assumption was that he was here to derail you or, at the very least, complicate things. It wouldn’t be the first time he showed up simply to cause mayhem and be a thorn in your side.

Snarling, you threw his body against the wall and the assassin’s head hit the concrete with a sickening thud. With a forearm over his throat, you pressed down, immobilizing him.

You could admit that you were being a little too aggressive than necessary about it.

His dark eyes sparked with an unsettling light, something so unthreatened and unalterable about him it made your hair raise. He wasn't intimidated, you could tell. He treated you more like a nuisance to wave away, not an equal.

You felt his throat move against your skin when he swallowed, and it made you wanna press down harder.

“Calm down, sweetheart. The night's just getting started,” Murdoc murmured while leering at you from behind a wall of long eyelashes. They were so pronounced you wondered if he was wearing mascara.

His eyes suddenly grew wider in a mockery of fear, tone climbing to a falsetto, "Oh, dear god, what did I ever do to deserve this treatment?"

His voice grated on your nerves on the best of days, and this was a pretty bad one. A scoff rose up in your throat, but you crushed it before it could escape. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

The clear irritation that lowered your tone into a harsh whisper, however, was unmistakable. A small twitch of his cheek indicated that the hitman found your reaction highly amusing. He made a move as if to raise his hands towards you, but you clamped down on his trachea harder, and he stopped. And as the meaning of your words sunk in, you could almost see the gears start turning behind that smug facade of his.

“Murdoc. Stop thinking of ways to make this more difficult for me, and tell me plainly. What’s going on?” 

A shade of disappointment marred his face before disappearing as quickly as it showed. “Come on, agent, you know me. Where would be the fun in that?”

“Don’t talk to me like we’re friends,” the reprimand barely left your mouth before Murdoc’s fingers wrapped around your elbow and painfully bent it at an angle, removing it from his windpipe with a sharp tug. 

Wide-eyed indignation contorted your face as your places suddenly reversed and Murdoc crushed you into the wall, not holding back either.

You weren’t some dainty, fragile damsel in need of rescue–there was hardened muscle hidden under your evening attire. And yet, Murdoc still overpowered you, both in terms of height and sheer strength.

Your nostrils flared in anger, and you threw your body weight against his grip to dislodge it. 

He made a disapproving sound and let his weight fall on the point of contact between the two of you, driving the sharp parts of his slender fingers into the softness of your neck. You tried to suck in a breath and rasped instead.

“Now, now, you’ll either continue to throw your little tantrum, which won't end well, or start being useful by helping me,” as his words caught up to him, a displeased crease appeared between his brows.

“Although, using the term ‘help’ would be a dire exaggeration. I could be finished here long before you pick yourself up off the floor.”

You knew he was aiming to hurt your ego and rile you up, throwing you off balance around him seemed to be the primary goal. If you lost control and started lashing out against his mockery, the man would undoubtedly win.

He usually attempted it when the two of you ran into each other; it was a path well trodden, with various results.

Admitting it never even crossed your mind, but you were aware, deep down, that he was damn good at it. The words he used were one thing, and as cutting and shrewd in his judgements as he was, sometimes all it took for you to lose it was the damned look on his face. Always so superior and above it all. Like he wasn’t even human.

It drove you nuts.

You geared up for another round of verbal sparring before parsing his meaning. You hissed out the next words; the pressure exerted on your throat proved to be a pretty good deterrent from speaking. “Y-you’re the partner, the informant, that I’m... I’m supposed to be working with?”

Something in your face must have betrayed the distaste stirred up by the idea because Murdoc chuckled and then finally let go of your neck to bow with a flourish. 

You coughed loudly, to get rid of the intrusive feeling of somebody being in control of your breathing. You massaged the bruised flesh where Murdoc’s gloves likely left indentation marks in their wake, then rolled your eyes at his theatrics.

“I don’t think letting your guard down around me is a good idea,” you said dryly when he finally straightened up from the exaggerated pose.

“Oh, sure it is,” another wide grin split his mouth, and you gritted your teeth in muted frustration. “And oh so thrilling, I assure you.”

You didn’t grace that with an answer.

Ten minutes and one barely civil conversation with your HQ later, you and Murdoc walked arm in arm into the towering building.

With only a few minutes to spare, you didn’t even find time to touch up your make-up. Or double check your gun. And as luck would have it, what you were infiltrating was a ball. With dancing included.

You'd groan out loud, but you knew your companion had a biting comment prepared if you so much as blinked wrong. Murdoc seemed thoroughly entertained by the whole debacle and made no effort to hide it, strutting along with all the subtlety of a battering ram.

It was supposed to be his strong suit, being a shadow or whatever, but driving you up the wall must haven taken priority.

In fact, there seemed to exist nothing that made him giddier than getting a reaction out of you, for whatever accursed reason.

“Now, wife,” his lip twitched at the word, “how about we get this party started?”

“How about you never call me that again?”

“And blow our cover? I would never do that to you.”

You glanced towards him. He caught you instantly, his dark piercing gaze dedicated to not letting you get away with anything.

Those dilated pupils peering from beneath half-open eyelids were anything but easy to withstand, but you held your ground. That is, until he gave you a slow once-over, complete with a too-long pause focusing on your cleavage.

“You are infuriating,” you snapped and whipped your head away in the other direction, barely managing not to raise your hand to cover the gap in your clothing.

The man only drew closer and raised his own arm towards you in an inviting (taunting, something inside you whispered) gesture.

“I have my charm. Shall we?”

—

“Would you let go of me, you animal?” While you tried to keep the hissing to a minimum, he wasn't making it easy.

And Murdoc’s hold on you didn’t release, obviously, the words entirely ignored. You expected nothing less.

The leather of his gloves was smooth and firm against your skin, colder than expected, artificial feeling. The sensation was unsettling, a barrier between you that you'd normally welcome with open arms, but something felt different tonight. Instead, you wished he’d take them off, bare skin on bare skin.

The visual had its… appeal.

Even if the man it centered on did not.

You stopped pulling away to not attract more attention from the surrounding people. A couple on your left already began to whisper while unsubtly pointing towards you. Making everyone think that they were witnessing a domestic dispute was a terrible way of staying unnoticed, even Murdoc had to know that. 

He didn’t seem to care about it at all. 

He pulled harder until you had no choice but to step closer towards him. Your palm fell on his chest, breath catching in your throat.

You never really noticed just how much he towered over you when in close quarters, and you wished you still hadn't. Sticking out your chin was a childish move, but having no control over your present movements brought that out in you. 

Where you stood wasn’t a ballroom exactly, but the lofty ceilings and ornate columns lining the walls gave a strong impression of one. Grandiose was one word for it. Over-the-top was another.

Massive mirrors adorned the sides, and you caught a glimpse of your silhouette, partially obscured by the imposing shape of the man gripping your side. You shivered and turned away, oblivious to Murdoc's curious gaze following.

You skimmed the crowd in an attempt to locate the person you were after. It wasn't just to distract from the heat that image caused. Obviously.

“Enjoying yourself?” The singsong lilt of Murdoc’s voice coming from above drew your attention. You reluctantly looked up, ready to chastise him for his pestering; there were things at stake here more important than his pathological need to feel superior.

With languid steps, he swirled you softly to the side, and then pressed you into his chest, his grasp the very opposite of gentle. His fingers were demanding, leaving no room for physical distance.

It felt like a display.

Like he was showing you off.

He had to bend over to reach properly, the tips of his fingers running over the gap in your dress, moving the red material to the side, exposing more skin. You grabbed onto a lapel of his coat, feeling shaken from it.

Some strange stupor fell over you. Staring up at the length of Murdoc’s neck, watching him breathe in and out, the rhythm was almost hypnotic.

You had to dispel it, needed to focus. There was a tremor in your voice, one you hoped he'd take for anger.

“Did you forget why we’re here? It isn’t some fun little outing concocted for your amusement–”

“–I’d beg to differ–”

“–but a mission of significant importance to the security of–”

“–I thought this was a date–”

“–individuals invaluable to not only my organization but society as a whole–”

Murdoc abruptly leaned forward, cutting you off. “Do you even listen to yourself anymore? You’re really starting to sound like a talking head for your little agency, sweetheart, and that’s not very attractive.”

Biting down on a “go fuck yourself”, you turned, lips touching his cheek as you answered. “I don’t recall ever asking for your opinion, Murdoc. I think it’s better if you refrain from sharing it in the future.”

He caught your eyes with an empty smile, a shark showing his teeth. “Zero promises.”

—

You didn’t end up dancing for long before everything went to shit. 

Splitting off from your partner for the night gave you some room to breathe. It also provided a unique opportunity for an assailant to knock you out cold in a deserted hallway.

Later you’d curse yourself for making such a rookie mistake—never split up without letting the other person know—but at the time you weren’t thinking clearly, a little preoccupied with things. You weren’t prepared for it, was the point, and you paid for that mistake dearly.

A sharp acute pain in the back of your skull jolted you awake. There was a building pressure behind your eyes and a pounding headache that turned your stomach.

You felt sick, and that wasn’t a good sign.

One failed attempt to open your eyes later, you realized what must have happened. Your previously done up hair was tangled with a makeshift blindfold, the cloth covering your line of sight. A twin piece wedged into your mouth stopped you from screaming for help.

Trying to push it out with your tongue brought only frustration, alongside a coughing fit.

Too much time couldn’t have passed, right?

You truly loathed the idea, but still dearly hoped that Murdoc was on his way to get you.

If someone told you a few hours ago that you’d ever count on Murdoc for back-up however, you would have laughed at them.

But life has a funny way of fucking with people, and this must've been karma for all the times you talked back to your boss. That's what he'd say, at least.

And with your shitty luck, the hitman was already gone, sporting a martini in some luxurious hotel suite, ogling strippers, or whatever men like him did to relax. Shooting innocents for fun was more likely.

That measly hope was dashed when a small groan reached your ears. A familiar chuckle followed, close nearby.

There was a hand wrapping around your wrist and you scrambled backwards, heart-rate skyrocketing. Trying to get away from the touch proved unsuccessful–your hands were connected to a chain, which was connected to a wall, keeping you firmly in place. 

Deep breaths.

Looking for information was your first priority in a crisis, so you moved a hand over the ground, searching for anything to use. It was smooth but with loose gravel in places, like the coating of an underground parking lot, or more likely, a basement. 

Attempting to calm down the thundering beating of your heart, you leaned back against the firmness, letting long fingers caress the inside of your wrist.

“M–uh–rdoc?” Your attempt at words was muffled and barely audible, but distinct enough.

“The one and only,” the assassin's response came back loud and clear–no obstruction in its way, a luxury you weren't afforded.

For a split second, you entertained the idea that he knocked you out cold and dragged your unconscious body down here to do god knows what. It didn't seem beyond him.

Fingers clamped down on your pulse point, forcefully grabbing your attention. "You're tied up, agent, and I can help you with that, but you'll have to push that ego aside for a moment."

A protest rose in your throat.

“Be a good girl and do as I say, got it?”

With a swallow, you stopped. The near silence of the room made it impossible to tell if the assassin noticed your reaction or not.

You weren't sure how close he was. How much attention he was paying. Dealing with this strange thing that's been chasing you all night was the last thing you wanted to do.

Murdoc's voice was calm and in control, a tone that inspired confidence and trust—emotions you were, as a rule, reluctant to feel towards him. But you had no choice. This was the fastest way to get out of your restraints, so, keeping your worries in check, you nodded assent.

Seemingly able to both move around and see, he hummed his acknowledgement.

“Good girl.”

“Now, scoot over to the right, yeah, just like that, use your legs. Keep going until you hit my side, you're almost there,” he directed, clearly aiming for something.

A stream of soft murmurs of apology filled the air at the pained noises you made when dragging your ankle. Someone clearly bent it at a shitty angle when they were attaching the chain, and you weren't sure if it was twisted or fractured. It fucking hurt though.

The pain must've made you delirious, because Murdoc was not the sort of man to know what an apology even was.

“Now put your leg up, the right one, try to sit up and then turn your body around. God, sweetie, it's been a while since I've seen good old-fashioned chains… not even handcuffs, they have us in chains,” Murdoc's voice ended in a high-pitched giggle, disbelief mixing with mirth at the absurdity of it.

You successfully followed directions and suddenly found yourself sitting on his propped up leg, balancing on it; your dress riding up on either side of your hips from the clumsy movements. Goosebumps rose in the cold air's wake.

Your face heated at the image you must have made, all wobbly and sweaty, desperate for guidance, barely covered up by the torn dress. Everything on display for Murdoc.

It became hard to breathe.

“That's right, just scoot closer, so I can reach you,” the tone of his voice was lower now, not quite a whisper, but close enough to make you shiver.

Keeping balance with arms bent behind you and wrists tied together was not easy. More soft pained noises, more maneuvering into position and you slid down, your ass landing directly on the hitman's lap.

Was that a gun in his pocket–?

“That's perfect, baby, just a little bit closer, so I can get rid of that pesky gag,” he grunted, sounding momentarily caught off-guard. “You do look good in it, though, I have to admit.”

Incapable of hitting him square in the jaw, you resigned yourself to leaning forward instead.

Curious fingers ran through your tangled hair, fingernails catching against your skin in exploratory touches, until finally making their way lower, towards the gag. Moments of fiddling later, the gag was gone and you could speak.

So you did. “What the fuck, Murdoc, are your hands free?”

“Shhh, agent, what if they hear us?” The way his voice caught on a snigger, bereft of any actual worry, threw a gallon of gasoline under the low level rage that's been burning in your chest the whole evening.

“Are you fucking kidding me, you fucker?"

It hurt, just how much he didn't care.

“We could die here, in this stupid basement, surrounded by nothing but trash and bound in some medieval ass chains, because you’d rather play around than do something useful for once!” Your voice grew louder and louder, and being unable to see his no doubt self-satisfied expression made it significantly worse.

“I’m asking you to help me, just once, just this one single time, you asshole. To put my well-being over your own, think of someone else but yourself! And take this stupid blindfold off me–Please–” You were on the verge of begging now, voice breaking on a plea.

A long stretch of nothing followed, disturbed only by your heavy breathing. Then, a light trace of fingertips over your cheekbone. “I didn’t know you trusted me so much, agent.”

“What–?” 

Wet lips crashed into yours and Murdoc grabbed a fistful of your hair, pressing you against him. His smell filled your senses, something sharp and spicy, with an undercurrent of leather. The sound that left you was embarassing.

His palm was so big it encircled the back of your head effortlessly, fingers unkind in their urgency. He jostled your wound and you struggled within his grasp, trying to pull away with a distressed whine. Unable to see, unable to move, your body overcompensated for the lack of senses, making it feel like he was pressing into an exposed nerve. "Mu–urdoc–”

The groan made him pull away, sticky red smeared all over his hand now. He looked at it and chuckled. "Ah, they got you good, sweetheart. Let me make it worse.”

He didn't sound apologetic at all, and stuck his mouth to the underside of your jaw, sucking on the sensitive flesh. Tongue lapping up the saltiness of your skin, he let out a satisfied groan, hand wrapping around your neck to keep you from moving.

You let out another stifled whimper, part of you wanting to pull away from his possessive grip. The other part knew it would leave a mark and craved it more than anything.

Head falling back, your chest rose with laboured breaths, small sounds of exhilaration falling from your mouth. “Fucking hell–Ah–”

His other palm grabbed your breast, kneading it forcefully, wringing more gasps out of you. You felt his lips turn up in gratification against your tender flesh.

“Does that feel good?” His usually airy tone was raspy now, the gruff whisper making you shudder against his torso. “Tell me.”

You couldn't stop it; your hips ground down onto his own, dragging against the growing hardness beneath you. The emptiness inside you was infuriating, and you couldn't even reach down to relieve the pressure. You needed him now.

A loud cry left you when Murdoc bit down punishingly on your throat and gripped your chin between his fingers. He pressed his lips against yours before speaking, as if he couldn't stop himself.

“Fucking tell me, agent. Tell me what I should do with you. So powerless, all tied up, mine to control. I could do anything, so what will it be?”

“Murdoc, please–”

“Please what?” Cold air hit your skin as he pulled the dress up and slapped the back of your thigh, then snapped his fingers twice. “Focus, agent, right here, focus on me.”

This was all wrong; the way his gloved hand rubbed the stinging spot afterwards, his demanding tone, just how wet you could feel yourself becoming the more he touched you. The more he made you his.

“Touch me, please,” the words came out as a whisper, and were met with another chuckle.

“No no no no, sweet girl, that's not good enough. You gotta work for it.”

You couldn't escape, so you lowered your head into his shoulder, hoping to somehow disappear.

“Don't hide.” He yanked the blindfold off and threw it to the side, moving your head up so he could catch your gaze.

Despite everything happening between you, the mercenary looked near unbothered. His hand on your face felt steady, his breathing only slightly elevated, an expression on his face that you could only call triumphant.

It made you burn.

Your lipstick was smeared over his mouth, the red streaks physical proof of the way he crushed your lips together. You wanted to sink your teeth into his flesh and tear, a visceral representation of what he made you feel.

If your hands weren't bound, you'd be shoving them against his chest and running your fingernails down, marking him as yours too.

As it was, you only had your words left.

"Just fuck me, Murdoc, or do you need written instructions?"

The smug smile he sent your way was answer enough.

He grabbed the dark red material of your dress and tore the bottom part in half, a sharp exhale leaving your chest at the action. Then he stroked your ass, roughly stretched it and parted your legs, toying with the muscle.

You felt beyond exposed, a butterfly pinned to a board. Hair in disarray, flimsy panties not enough cover against forceful fingers and the hitman’s searing gaze. Naked planes of skin kept growing more and more red from the pleasure he wrung out of you. His hand reached between your thighs, and you closed your eyes.

He openly stared, drinking you in. Sharp canines peeked from behind his lips, mouth half open in captivation, and the black strands of hair fell over his eyes.

"What a sight you are," Murdoc murmured and palmed you over the thin material, fingers gathering moisture that soaked through it already.

You bit down on your lip and moved against his broad fingers, your muscles straining from keeping upright for so long.

He kept looking at your face and cataloging every little expression that passed over it, his eyes ablaze with a frenzy, an expression that in any other situation would make you shudder in fear.

Hell, it still did.

Impatiently, he pulled the material to the side and easily sank two fingers inside you, moving them in and out with a beckoning movement, rubbing against your clit until you let out a sob.

His wrist grew still for a moment, watching you grow frustrated in his lap, twisted satisfaction burning in his gaze. Then he added another finger, plunging all three as deep as they would go.

“Fuck, Murdoc, you shit–!”

He giggled and shushed you, "Stay still."

"Fucking bastard–"

"You telling me you don’t like this? You're not a whore who gets off on getting finger-fucked by her enemy?"

You wailed as he hit a spot inside you. “Shut the f-fuck–up–” 

“Aw, but you don’t want me to, do you?” He shot forward, pressing his face to yours, hot breath hitting your lips as he continued, “I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers, agent, and then I’m gonna force them down your throat. Would you like that?”

Keening growing louder at the words, you moved your hips faster, panting against him, already nodding your head before realizing.

“I thought so,” the thrusting of his fingers grew quicker and you writhed in his lap, unbothered by what you looked like, only chasing your release with a single-minded determination.

Every once in a while your ass moved over Murdoc’s still clothed cock and he let out a pained-sounding hiss, his grip on your throat growing tighter.

You’d feel victorious if you weren’t so out of it.

Murdoc wrenched his fingers out of you and licked the moisture off, closing his eyes in pleasure. "God, you taste so good. How am I ever supposed to let you go?"

The sudden emptiness made you panic, and you caught his mouth in a kiss, urging him to continue. You could taste the slight saltiness from his fingers, your own flavour.

He pulled away from you with a laugh, then hissed again when you licked the side of his throat.

“Patience, agent, patience.” The grip on your neck disappeared and you heard his zipper open, a relieved exhale following.

The flicking of his wrist kept going for a few more seconds before he pulled out and ripped the flimsy fabric of your underwear off entirely. With an arm around your waist, he steadied you, before pressing the head of his cock forward.

At first, there was a dull sensation of resistance, Murdoc being bigger than you expected. But before you could protest, your cunt gave way, and he slipped in, the fullness and drag on your insides making you tighten around him.

The man rocked into you, his arm pressing your bodies so close together you could feel every laboured breath he took. You wanted to rip off the coat he was wearing, taste the naked skin over his ribs on your tongue.

You barely even noticed the changing gravity as you got pushed into the ground, your back painfully dragging against the rubble.

“I wanna spread your legs and eat you out until all you can think of is getting filled up to the brim,” Murdoc sounded almost delirious now, his hips speeding up, “wanna bury myself in you and keep going until you’re screaming–”

You encircled his waist with your legs, the pain of moving your ankle getting lost in the white noise that filled your head. You wanted him closer, you needed him closer.

Every time he pushed back in you squeezed him harder, wanting the stretch, urging him to thrust faster, squirming when he hit that spot inside you. It was almost too much, waves of pleasure twisting your insides, breathing near impossible.

"You'll feel me for days, agent, won't be able to look in the mirror without remembering my cock deep inside you," he groaned loudly, pulling you up into his lap without stopping the movement of his hips.

He bit down on your collarbone, leaving a red imprint of his teeth behind.

"Wanna mark you, scar you, make it so no one will ever touch you again–"

Your fingernails bit into the palm of your hand, his rasping voice pushing you over the edge. Knowing that you made him sound that way, that you brought out something desperate and reckless, a frenzied stream of litanies, from a man like Murdoc.

That was what did it.

Your legs tensed and clamped over his thighs, and you let out a string of curses. “FuckfuCKFUCK! Please–M-Murdoc, I–!” 

He covered your mouth with his own and swallowed the shrill sounds, kisses turning brutal as you trembled in his arms. First his tongue ran over your teeth, then he bit down on your lower lip until the skin broke, a small stream of red immediately smudging between your lips. The sting sent a pulse down to your cunt, sucking Murdoc's cock in deeper.

He kept thrusting even as you stiffened, insides clenching around him like a vice, and with a short bark of your name he spilled himself on your inner walls.

Your exhausted body was pressed against his chest and you were empty for a moment. No worries, no thoughts. The aftershocks wiped your head clean of everything.

Your torn dress fell off your shoulders, but you didn't notice.

When you came to, your wrists were free, and the two of you were laying side by side on the floor.

Murdoc was staring at you like the cat that swallowed the canary; strands of hair were sticking out of place and a thin sheen of sweat covered his face, making his skin look glossy. It made him look so young, but you knew better.

His fingers kept running over the red imprint on your chest, eyes occasionally glancing at your scratched up wrists. He seemed... content. Some of that ever-present frantic energy looked to be gone.

You exhaled softly, the man's lips grabbing your attention. There was a redness there, lipstick or blood, and you weren’t sure which option was more appealing. Either way, you couldn’t take your eyes off it.

With an unsteady hand, you ran a finger through it, captivated by the sight, and the feeling of warm, malleable flesh.

Murdoc almost seemed human like this.

In a deliberately slow move, he ran his tongue over the tip of your finger and licked the ruddiness off. Grinned again.

God, you wanted to punch that smug look off his face, and you wanted to kiss him until he couldn't breathe.

What a fucking day.

[godspeedviper]

Disco Inferno - Jack Delroy x Reader (18+)

𖤐 Synopsis: It's summer of 1977. Leo convinces Gus and Jack to visit the newly opened, and already infamous, Studio 54.

𖤐 Type: smut || oneshot || Jack Delroy x F!Reader

𖤐 Word Count: 1,933

𖤐 Rating: explicit || graphic depiction of drug usage || period typical sexism || PiV || Vaginal Fingering || Unprotected sex

𖤐 A/N: I encourage everyone to look up pictures of Studio 54 because the parties were so insane that it's hard to believe. They even brought a whole fucking HORSE inside one time. (I'm not kidding this was 100% a real thing that happened)

  Jack stares out the car window and sighs, he hadn’t expected such a crowd. They had just finished tonight’ broadcast and the last thing he wanted was to have to face yet another crowd of people after wading through the audience members on the way out of the UBC building. Even though it was long since dark out, Jack put on his sunglasses and took in a deep breath to steady his nerves before stepping out of the car and onto the busy street entrance of the club. As soon as the two men stepped out of the vehicle they were bombarded with bright camera flashes and shouts from the crowd. More and more celebrities were frequenting the discotheque in recent days, thus resulting in paparazzi practically camping outside the entrance to try and catch a glimpse of any famous attendee in scandalous attire. 

 “Mr. Delroy over here!”                                           “Tonight’s episode was great!”                                         “We love you Mr. Delroy!” 

“Where’s the missus, Jack?”                                                “Oh he’s even cuter in the flesh!” 

“Who are you wearing tonight, Mr. Delroy?” 

                                                                                                                                   “How do you feel about the current ratings?” 

                          “Jack! I’ve loved you since your radio days!”

                            “He’s so handsome!”                                   “Jack, look over here!” 

   Leo pushed him ahead trying to get them past the clusterfuck and into the venue as soon as possible. Suddenly a young woman spilled out from the crowd, causing her to fall on all fours right in front of Jack. He bent down and reached a hand towards her, to help pick her back up. Jack was instantly taken in by her appearance, and just as he was about to speak to her one of the bouncers grabbed her by the shoulder to pull her away. 

“No!” Jack interjected. “No it’s alright! She’s with me!” He pulled her close to him and locked his arm to hers. The bouncer cocked a brow in suspicion but he wasn’t gonna probe any further. 

“Ok then.” The man mumbled before stepping away and attempting to clear a path in front of the duo, now trio with Leo just behind them.

  Once inside Jack removed his dark sunglasses, placing them into the pocket of his overcoat, and the group was greeted by a long red hallway that spilled out into a massive dance floor. A few couples lined the walls, trying to have a conversation away from the noise. They walked over to the coat check booth off to the left, Leo quickly wandered off, leaving the couple to talk amongst themselves.

“Thank you, Mr. Delroy” She said, a coy smile playing on her lips.

“Oh, are you a fan of the show?” He tried to play this off as humble, but inside he was beaming with pride – of course she knew who he was, everyone did nowadays. 

“Yes, very much. You’re even more handsome in person.” 

“Now you’re just buttering me up!” He laughed, secretly thankful that the colorful disco lights obscured his blushing. Jack leaned forward, ready to steal a kiss, when suddenly Leo shouted at him for attention. 

“Jack! Jack over here! I’d like you to meet a friend of mine.” Leo walked up to him with another man at his side. Leo patted the man’s back and waved his other hand towards Jack. “Jack, meet Steve Rubell. Steve, meet Jack Delroy!” 

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Midnight!” Steve said as he eagerly shook Jack’s hand. “I see you’ve already found yourself a date for the night. You’re a real hoot with the ladies! Pun intended.” Jack laughed nervously, and Steve quickly interjected, seeing right through his anxieties. “Ah! Don’t worry Mr. Delroy, what you do here tonight is between yourself and the dance floor. None shall know about any ahem indiscretions.” He winked. 

  The three men let out a hearty laugh, although Jack was still quite nervous and clearly uncomfortable. Aside from choosing to follow Leo here, this was his first bad choice of the night. She pouted a bit at the reminder that Jack was a married man – a famous married man – but married nonetheless. 

“Now now, don’t you be upset young lady! Negative feelings are not permitted in this establishment!” Steve wagged a finger in mock disapproval. “Follow me boys and girls! I have just the thing to turn those frowns upside down!” 

  The trio followed Steve into the belly of the beast, heads turning to look all around them, awestruck at the utterly absurd levels of decadence on display. They walked through the massive dance floor, surrounded by people in all manner of extravagant dress. The air was hot, humid, heavy with pheromones and a powerful beat that seemed to possess everyone in its wake with an utterly liberating sense of mania. Steve led them to a cushy, semicircular booth within the VIP lounge by the bar. He quickly waved over a staff member and ordered “the works” for the trio of novices. 

“Voila!” Steve shouted with theatrical flair, hands motioning to the tray placed in front of them. “If there is such a thing as a breakfast of champions, then this is surely the dinner of virtuosos! Champagne, cocaine, and Quaaludes for your pleasure my dear lady and gentlemen. Enjoy.”

Leo clapped and laughed, picking up a flute of champagne for a toast, the rest followed suit. “To Night Owls! And to my dear friend, Mr. Midnight, Jack Delroy!” 

“To Jack!” Steve and Jack’s disco girl said in unison. 

  At first, Jack hesitated trying to think of something else to say, but unable to, he just blurted out “To me!” with a boisterous laugh. He took a sip of the champagne and leaned back into his seat, relaxing his body and throwing one arm around his serendipitous date. The two watched as Steve prepared the items on the tray for what was to follow. 

“Okay so! First things first, you take your little disco biscuit,” Steve said while picking up a quaalude “And you swallow that with the champagne. Then you’re gonna go for the snow so that the ‘ludes don’t put ya to sleep. And always always always remember that the proper way to do some lines is with a hundred dollar bill, nothing less. If you follow those rules you’ll have permission to say you had the genuine Studio 54 experience. Capisce ?”

  Jack put his drink aside and reached out for one a quaalude. Holding the pill between his thumb and forefinger, he offered it up to her lips. 

“Ladies first.” He said, looking at her with a dark hunger in his eyes as she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue to receive the pill, looking up at him through thick glittering lashes. Her tongue grazed his fingers, causing a shiver to go down his spine. 

  The other men whistled and cheered in amusement. Jack, emboldened by the onslaught of praise, then reached into his pants pocket for his wallet, and he pulled out a one hundred dollar bill as instructed. He rolled it up into a straw and wordlessly handed it to the young woman beside him. The implication was more than enough to get her to reach out to the round table – seductively arching her back as she did so – and pour out a generous helping of cocaine, promptly inhaling it. This caused the men to cheer and whoop and holler. She slowly sat back down and offered the rolled up bill back to Jack.

 “ Winner next.”  She said with a wink.

“Oh she’s good !” Said Leo, nudging Steve’s arm. 

  Jack sheepishly took the bill between his fingers and watched as she reached for a pill to offer it to him in the same way he had just done to her. He stifled an awkward giggle and took the pill into his mouth, swallowing with a wash of champagne. Then, as Jack leaned forward onto the table, he heard Steve start to chant his name – egging him on – and the others followed suit.

“Jack! Jack! Jack! Jack!” 

  He took one long deep breath, inhaling a substantial amount of cocaine as the three others cheered and clapped. He felt the rush almost instantly, causing his head to spin as he leaned back into his seat. By the time he had overcome the initial jolt, Leo was already culminating his own baptism, and Steve was calling some people over. 

  The drugs hit Jack all at once and suddenly, as if by magic, he found himself on the dance floor surrounded by beautiful women. He had no idea how he got there, or who they were, but he sure was not about to complain. The disco lights formed a thick kaleidoscopic coating over the dance floor, they seemed almost sentient under the effects of the drugs, as if the light too was dancing to the beat along with everyone else. He posed for photos with important people, celebrated people, trading handshakes and drugs till his face hurt from smiling and his nostrils felt dryer than a desert, but he wouldn’t stop, he couldn’t. The energy of success was as infectious as the drive to achieve it. Jack had long since forgotten all about Minnie and any sense of self preservation. He found himself following his libido up a dark flight of stairs into the pseudo privacy of the old theater bulding’s balconettes. 

“How does it feel to be Mr. Midnight?” She asked in between sloppy kisses, her voice breathy and hot against his skin. 

“It feels fantastic,” He replied. “But not as good as I’ll make you feel.” 

   She gripped onto the railing of the balcony and lifted up her already skimpy dress to reveal a pair of sheer bikini-like panties. They were so minimal in fact, that Jack was able to push the delicate fabric aside with a finger and expose her eager cunt. He pushed a finger in, then another, and began stroking her to the languid sensual melody of Donna Summer’s I Feel Love until he could no longer hold back his own voracious desire for release. Jack hadn’t realized just how painfully hard he was until he felt a wave of relief wash through his body when he finally unzipped his fly. He lined himself up and slipped his fingers out, replacing them with his cock in one hard thrust. He saw stars, he was a star in every sense of the word, his body absolutely electrified with pleasure, skin shining like the disco itself, dusted with glitter, makeup and sweat. He could already see tomorrow’s headlines in his mind’s eye – Mr. Midnight extends his hours at Studio 54!– accompanied by pictures of himself looking glamorously trashed on the dance floor, shirtless save for the burgundy suit jacket he currently had on, alongside the likes of Grace Jones, Mick Jagger, and Steve Rubell. 

    Jack looked down at the scene below him and almost burst. He watched as she moved hypnotically against him, the low scoop of her dress allowed him to see each vertebra on her spine bob up and down as she arched her back, pushing her hips against his to amplify the power of each thrust hammering into her core. Below them, the dance floor shone like the very galaxy itself, each attendee a star in their own right, and they were all unaware of Jack looming over them in the shadows like a God of the night. The very thought sent Jack into the stratosphere. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, his mind whiting out as he reached orgasm. This was what it felt like to be a winner. This is what the view is like from the top.

Ao3 || Ko-Fi || WiPs || Request

[renhaswritersblock]

hello!! could you do w, i, and o for abner on the nsfw alphabet? i am so desperate for content abt him lmao 😭😭 thank u for still writing him

Abner Krill (Polka-dot-man) - NSFW Request (I, O, W)

Me: Oh boy, Abner! I’ve always been wanting to write something about this colorful dancing king queen since I watched TSS. This is going to be fun!

[Two/half months later.]

Me: *Staring intently at a bulletin board covered in pictures and notes with red string connecting to them, not knowing what time or day it is.*

Life [Walks in.]: Hey, uhh– friendly reminder that you still have that Government paper due tomorrow.

Me: MUTHERFU–

[Weeks later.]

Me [On the floor, defeated by the heavy mass of writer's block, reaching towards laptop to press enter.]: Finished– *Get’s crushed by an anvil of more writing tasks.*

—

A/N: I had made a Venn Diagram of Abs, Bob, and Lonny to differ the boys since they all fall under the meow meow category. So, thank you for the wait.

Ima say this takes place after the TSS movie – don’t care if he died, as James A. Janisse would maybe say, “No body, no count.” (Same with Flag. *kicks book of Necromancy For Dummies under bed*)

Warning: Usual NSFW stuff, nothing too extreme. Made some parts long (cause I do what I want). Some head cannons that totally didn’t come up to me randomly while I was halfway through finishing. No proofreading, I go down in style. Is there anything smutty in the first half? No, not really. Did I get carried away again and build a oneshot sort of story? Perhaps. Will I ever make a long smutty moment in any of the alphabet requests? Idk. Hotel? Trivago.

Leans toward female reader pov, but mostly towards gender neutral.

Anyhoo, happy readings!

===

I: Intimacy (*looks over at the letter C* Perhaps, I misjudged you.)

Abner lacks physical and emotional intimacy – and you can’t really blame him for it. Being locked up in Belle Reve and made fun of by the other inmates for so long – and to top it all off, his condition and past – he doesn’t have good social skills nor the confidence to approach someone for friendly/flirtatious banter. Even when he and his Task Force X friends go out to celebrate their new freedom at a local club, he still remains reserved and hidden. So he thought.

Throughout the night, Abner watched everyone have fun while sitting in a booth next to a large – totally not a man-eating shark – distinguish gentleman with a mustache, staring intently at a fish tank behind them. Cleo was out dancing wildly on the dance floor with a group of people, Harley sat across the room drinking with three intimidating women, and both Flag and Dubois went somewhere private to chat and drink alone. He consistently looks around the large room, scanning the neon interior and dancing occupant exotically swaying side to side, sipping his drink until his eyes land on a certain someone sitting by the bar. You.

You idly sat on one of the empty stools, swirling your drink in apathy and wearing the most eccentric, colorful outfit that made you stick out of the crowd. Abner nearly choked, spitting his drink through his nose, and erupted into a coughing fit. He didn’t notice Cleo returning to the booth, rushing to sit beside him, gently hitting his back. You were alone – in fact – you looked like you were waiting for someone, glancing at your surroundings and at your phone every minute. 

Supposedly, your date should’ve been here an hour ago. They texted you the address to this place to meet you at a time that was way past your curfew. Without a second thought, you agreed. You spend your whole evening prepping yourself to look nice. The only attire suitable for your first night out was the one that made it look like a clown puked on you. Looking around once more, you scan the room in hopes of seeing your date, not spotting Abner a few feet away staring gawkily at you, swiftly ducking his head to avoid glances.

Abner could feel his face burn red hot, he couldn’t hear Cleo’s muffled words over the sound of his heart pounding in his ear. He finally drew his attention towards Cleo when he heard her say, your glowing. Instantly, he slaps his face out of instinct to check if his glowing rash started popping up – knowing already he expelled the dots before they left. This is a first… Cleo gaped as his face began to flare up into dim hues of blue and red to green and yellow. His eyes move back to you, staring at your phone with a bleak expression. 

Honestly, you weren’t surprised when the screen showed they left you on read. You figured they would bail at the last minute, wasting half of your night to embarrass yourself. Thoughts began running through your head as you felt your chest grow heavy. I think that’s enough for one night. Holding back your tears, you took a shot of your drink and tapped the glass on the counter, going to spin your chair towards the exit when a tall man wearing what seems to be also a colorful button-up blouse blocks your way, startling you. Abner stood stiff as a board, nervously smiling at you. There was a moment of silence between you two. You watched as he glanced over and back at you, sending you mixed signals. Curious at what he was looking at, you turned and spotted two girls looking directly at you, one waving shyly, the other giving a thumbs up, and a– Wait is that a shark in disguise and a rat also waving at us?

You snap your attention back to the man in front of you, hearing him clear his throat out of discomfort before introducing himself as Abner, reaching his hand out towards you. To your dismay, you mindlessly took his hand, shaking it while telling him your name. Abner’s heart flutters at the sight of you smiling softly at him. You catch a glimpse of his cheeks glowing strangely, thinking it could be the lighting in the room. He takes a seat next to you, mumbling if he can buy you a drink, his smile widening when you accept the offer.

Shortly after your second drink, you hit it off pretty quickly, talking about certain things the two of you like, such as movies, and him introducing you to the group – keeping a very close eye on Nana– Bob doesn’t do anything to you. 

Soon you two were on the dance floor, swaying and bobbing your heads to the music, and before you knew it, you were face-to-face. Abner remembered sharing a long gaze with you, feeling as if time suddenly froze. He felt his cheeks boil achingly, noticing your expression contort into a bewildered look. Random patches of colorful glowing dots appeared and disappeared on his face. His eyes seemed to change color, following the primitive colors. 

Although you admired the way he looked, Abner on the other hand took it as a sign of being repulsed, causing something to trigger in his mind. But before he could let the imagery into his head, he hears you call out his name, slowly approaching him. You ask if you could hold his hand, reaching out for it when he accepts. You both stood in the middle for a while, only listening to the music playing on the speakers. Once he felt himself subside, he pulls towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist. You did the same, putting your arms around his neck, whispering reassuring words. He burrows his face into your shoulder, embracing the unknown feeling in his chest as his face emits a dim glow once again.

O: Oral 

*Abner: Clitoris?! Labia Majora?! Damn girl, how many pussies you got?!*

Abs is ok with giving oral to his partner. He’s a lil’ confuse at first, but he got spirit. He isn’t on the top 3, but somewhere around maybe 4-5. Krill prefers to use his hands to stimulate you than his mouth – since he can be flamboyant. It’s also a way for him to be slightly dominant and in control, edging you as soon as you near climaxing. 

When receiving oral from you, he melts into a whimpering puddle – he’s squirmish and restless at times, but only because you keep teasing his tip and shaft for revenge. To him, the sensation never gets old.

W: Wild Card (*cracks knuckles*)

*inhales*

Liiiiisten.

There’s a hc I have for this guy, but I prefer not to say what it is since it’s quite…vulgar. That and it also goes with a letter that rhymes with see. So here’s two headcannons that are pretty tame. Also, I hc Abner to be a vers.

Anyways.

Whenever Abner is having sexual intercourse with his partner, showing his emotions can be rather complex than his platonic relationship with you. Thus when he’s trying to gaze into your eyes, all you receive is a wide-eyed stare as he thrusts into you. Another aspect of his is uncontrollable giggling. At any moment, when you're riding him, something in his head switches and causes him to be a laughing mess. You remembered briefly stopping to ask him why he keeps laughing every single time you ask that question his response is the same, it feels good.

===

A/N: Hope ya'll enjoyed reading, and thank you for liking/reblogging. I find it hard to express my emotions sometimes and overthink it. When I see that I'm getting positive remarks on a couple of stuff I wrote, I acknowledge and appreciate the kindness, but never respond to it. So again, thank you so much for the support. Next one's gonna be a Johnson request, and then whatevers on the to-do list.

[blackleatherjacketz]

Alistair (OMC, Werewolf By Night)

Eric Northman (True Blood)

Father Paul (Midnight Mass)

Klaus Mikaelson (The Vampire Diaries, The Originals)

Miguel O'Hara (Across the Spider-Verse)

[embodyingchaos]

(ㅅ´ ˘ `) david dastmalchian masterlist

last updated: 22nd july, 2023 newest: latest heart to heart update

rules for requesting: ✮ disclaimer: i do not do smut, i can do dark themes such as stalking, etc. requests are open.

abner krill/polka-dot man(the suicide squad 2) dating abner genre: abner krill x gn!reader, headcanons, fluff, light angst warnings: mentions of abuse, panic attacks, ptsd, a bit suggestive at the end HEHEH abner with a s/o that has a symbiote genre: abner krill x gn!reader, headcanons warnings: mentions of intercourse, very short bc i am pooped out of ideas for this one

yandere abner genre: abner krill x gn!reader, headcanons warnings: yandere behaviour, suggested intercourse, stalking, mentions of murder, abner being a creep, abner being DELUSIONAL heart to heart genre: abner krill x fem!oc, best friends to lovers warnings: mention of experimentation, murder, abuse, manipulation, ABNER'S MOTHER synopsis: after escaping an illegal lab where she was experimented on constantly, number 037 found a new life for her in gotham city, in a quaint little cafe. everything seemed to look up, she even met someone dearly special to her. who knew it would all go bad so fast? kurt goreshter(ant-man) - none yet. johnson(reprisal) dating johnson genre: johnson x gn!reader, headcanons, fluff warnings: drinking, light implications of intercourse lester billings(the boogeyman) - none yet. alonso "lonny" crane(the belko experiment) lift, laugh, love genre: lonny crane x named!fem!reader, fluff, friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers warnings: reader is emotionless-type character, reader’s name is quinn, panic attacks, reader used to smoke, sorta emotional, making out sorta cause i can mUAHAHAHA synopsis: you and lonny get stuck in a lift and a few confessions happen.

[ebiemidnightlibrarian]

ok can i ask u about that one murdoc fic called “you can be the boss”!! is this a lana del rey reference 🥺🥺🥺??? great to see another david dastmalchian fan cuz he’s so beautiful and talented!

Hi, Nonnie!

Yes, it is! If I remember rightly, I chose this name bc of a Murdoc edit with this song!

Originally it was going to be a one-shot about Murdoc visiting an old relationship from before he was who he is. It would have some hurt & comfort, but in the end I changed a bit.

I kept the part where the reader is someone of his past, but now they accidentally meet in a mission where they are his target. There's some hurt and they talk about the past then maybe a lil smut, but I'm still not sure how it is going to end. Probably gonna changed the plot again, I'm thinking about a Murdoc x Hitman, like a one night stand or something. But I want to keep the part that they know each other from other times ☺️

I love that man and I'm sooo happy he's getting the attention he deserves with Late Night With The Devil. He's a great actor and needs more leading roles!

Thank you for the ask!

Lots of Love, Nonnie! 💜

[tofuxtea]

𝟕:𝟎𝟒 𝐚𝐦 | 𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — murdoc (2016) x fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — nsfw, explicit, reader needs something, murdoc wants something in return, oral (fem!receiving) murdoc is an asshole, hair pulling, quickie (?), face fucking, panty stealing, murdoc uses readers panties, lowkey nose kink lol, clit sucking, tongue fucking, slight overstimulation

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 — NOT PROOFREAD! literally stayed up til 7am to finish this bc i refused to not finish it. i had this idea when i watched like the second episode he was in and i couldnt get it out. also i need more david dastmalchian esp jack delroy, murdoc, johnny, and james lewis moots pleasepleaseplease

you were pissed. that much was obvious when you stormed into the prison with a slim folder between your tense fingers and a scowl etched into your typically stoic features.

you had demanded the guards get him into the interrogation room before you got there and told them to keep away from the door for the next hour. though they weren’t allowed to do so, they refused to fall into your vicious crosshairs.

they did as they were told, and the second you swung open the door to the stuffy, metal room you were met with a smug grin and taunting stare.

neither of which wavered even when you slammed the manilla folder onto the table in front of him and used that same hand to backhand him right across his cheek. your fingers closed around the collar of his plain white shirt before he could fully process the strike and you forced his body back upright. his handcuffs rattled with the motion. the proximity should have scared him.

“you sold us out?” your voice bounced off of the walls like a gunshot had rung out. but murdoc didn’t flinch. instead, his smile steadily grew until he was laughing in your hands.

honestly, you should have expected this. the consequences of trusting a sociopathic assassin like him. known for lying about any and everything, completely indifferent about who he hurts and the amount of chaos he creates.

you made the stupid mistake of placing what should have been the satisfying wrap-up to a very important mission in his hands and ended up getting double crossed, and your coworker and good friend almost killed. in whatever time murdoc had between your meeting with him and what was supposed to be a surprise confrontation, he gave away every last detail to whoever knew of your connections with him.

luckily, the phoenix foundation had never known a loss thanks to macgyver. he narrowly managed to flip the score and gain the upper hand in a heavily disadvantaged fight, giving your team just enough room to make just a few arrests. the rest were able to escape.

but despite the half victory, you knew it wouldn’t happen every time. so you had to remind your little informant who he belonged to.

your hold tightened on his shirt, and finally his cuffed wrists rose as a meek defense. “oh, come on sweetheart. i’m flattered you thought so highly of me, but i’ve told you before. my service only goes to the higher bidder now.” his voice was calm and condescending. it pisses you off.

you held him still for several seconds, debating on painting his cheekbone purple before shoving him back into his chair. it was so forceful, you heard the thin legs grit and scrape against the ground. murdoc chuckled lowly. “you’re strong for such a small thing, aren’t you?”

your eyes shot daggers into his own, but you control yourself. the team would only fall into deeper shit if you pushed him into a non-verbal state. they were relying on you, even if they had no idea you had come back here.

“you’re going to tell me who these people are, and where they might’ve gone.” you instructed, voice low and sharp. murdoc’s eyebrows twitched upwards as you flipped the folder open and spread several papers onto the table.

he glanced down at them, eyes shifting left and right like he was tracking a moving dot. “need i remind you? again?” his empty brown eyes came back up to you. his smile returned. “why should i?”

right. payment. in truth, you had shown up completely empty handed, boldly praying that you could get him to comply and the answers would merely fall out of him. maybe a punch or two. but this was murdoc. he felt nothing.

your jaw tightened when you came up with nothing. he seemed to sense that before you could say it and he scoffed out a laugh. “oh, then i’m afraid you came all this way for nothing, sweetheart.”

that was the second time he’d called you that. it felt almost dehumanizing coming from him, especially paired with the not-so-subtle observation he stole of your figure. though, it seemed to strike something in him, and the corner of his lips lifted.

“you know, i might be willing to settle for a second place offer.” murdoc held your gaze with a newfound intensity, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. dealing with many men in your profession, you knew that look all too well.

your stomach lurched. though you couldn’t tell if it was in a nauseating or interested way, seeing as your stomach suddenly tensed so badly it really could have been either. the man was attractive, there was no denying that. but still, you’d never pictured a situation like this with him before.

murdoc tsked at your shock. “i have needs.” he said matter-of-factly with a small shrug. his handcuffs clinked against his chair.

“i thought you had to be human for that.” you shot back.

every bone in your body told you to pack the file back up and leave him hanging. that was what your best judgment was screaming at you to do. not to entertain a maniac like him and put yourself at such a risk. but for some reason your feet were glued to the floor. you couldn’t move.

murdoc actually looked offended by your words, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “i can be as human as you need me to be. just say the word.” his voice dropped, suddenly teetering towards gravelly. “you need something, i want something. my prices really don’t get this low, you know.”

knowing murdoc, his idea of ‘needs’ was bound to put you in some compromising position. you shouldn’t. you really shouldn’t. but the way he was looking up at you with what could only be described as pleading eyes forced your refusal back down your throat.

then, his lips spread into a victorious grin. you noticed his sharp canine fangs for the first time. “good girl.” he breathed. he shifted to face you, reaching out to inch you closer to him with one hand. the distance between you two was already microscopic, but it got even thinner as he gently eased your legs in between his parted knees.

the chain that bound his wrists together granted him far too much leeway, you noticed when he planted his hands on either side of your waist.

your clammy palm pressed onto the table’s surface beside you to balance yourself, finding your guard was beginning to slip away. a heavy sigh escaped from your nostrils and your eyes squeezed shut while you took in your position.

you could back out now, you thought. there would be no shame in it. you’re only caught up in the moment now. he stunned you. that was all. you didn’t have to do this. you didn’t want to do this, you corrected, more loudly in your head this time.

murdoc’s fingers began to massage your hips over the skirt of your form fitting black dress, drawing you out of your meditative space. your eyes found his when they snapped open, and murdoc hummed.

“no need to worry, sweetheart. i know what i’m doing.” like that made you feel any better. he also knew what he was doing when he killed dozens of people.

you let a sigh slip past your lips when his hands traveled downward, inching towards the hem of your dress. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say there were two guards behind that door. but there isn’t, is there?” he asked lowly and knowingly, shooting a glance over to the locked door you had come in from.

your response was reluctant. if you told him he was right, he could easily use his position to overpower you and get out. but if you let him believe the guards were there doing their job, would he stop? you looked down at him, then down where his hands were gently massaging your upper thighs.

“no, they’re not.” you replied truthfully.

“good.” murdoc quickly replied. he moved you so that you stood in front of the table. your expression shifted to one of curiosity. “you can be as loud as you’d like.”

your face flushed hot at his words. how he said them so casually and cockily despite being (almost) completely at your mercy.

his fingers hooked onto the bottom of your dress and pulled it up to your waist, sighing with admiration as he took in the sight of your black panties. you gasped at the abrupt exposure, wanting to pull the bunched up fabric back down your thighs. but the sudden sensation of murdoc’s fingers rubbing at the dampened crotch of your underwear caught you off guard and you let out a whine.

“that’s it,” murdoc groaned when your thighs instinctively parted wider for him. he traced up your wet folds through the thin fabric, stopping at your clit to circle it. your chest filled with a sharp gasp and you cried out, legs going near slack. “good girl.”

your hips bucked shamelessly into his fingers, desperately trying to match his steady rhythm. “shit, shit,” you gasped, fingers curling around the edge of the table. your head fell back between your shoulders, strained whines falling from your lips.

murdoc quickly stole your building-up orgasm when he took his hand away to slide your panties down your legs and plant himself onto his knees before you. he whisked the garment away but you didn’t entirely care. the sight of him made you blink, realizing what he was about to do.

this was what he meant by wanting something? honestly, you had expected him to bend you over the table or have you straddle him on the chair.

“go on.” he gently nods towards the table behind you. hesitantly, you pull your dress down to cover your ass before hoisting yourself up onto the edge. you wince at the cold that seeped through the thin fabric meant to protect you. the rest of it bunched up at your hips.

murdoc’s hand slipped behind your thigh, holding it in place, the chain lightly digging into your skin as he brought his other one up to rub at your inner thigh. you waited for him to tend to your aching cunt again, but it never came.

you looked down at him, growing irritated. “what do you need me to do?” he asked far too sweetly for your liking. you glowered at him, but he didn’t give in. “don’t forget, you’re the one who needs something.”

bastard. he was going to make you say it out loud. humiliate you for a little bit, even if he was painfully hard in his orange jumpsuit. he had patience like no other, so he would get his way.

you swallowed what was left of your pride and responded, “please, make me come.” your words held bite and lacked the lust that coursed through you. and although murdoc looked like he was going to make you answer correctly for a moment, he shrugged.

“since you asked so nicely.” he said sardonically before he planted his mouth onto your cunt. the response was immediate, a startled cry of his name falling from your lips and your thighs tensing around him.

his tongue delves into your cunt, working you slowly and skillfully. you press a shaky hand to your mouth to try to keep yourself relatively quiet, but it’s like he knows exactly how you touch yourself at home in bed. he’s hitting every spot, and the vibrations of each of his moans make your back arch.

“murdoc—” his name sounded so strange when you weren’t cursing it to hell and back. “—fuck, don’t stop,” your hips rolled against his mouth, the tip of his nose prodding at your clit. you risked it and carded a hand through his hair, taking a handful of dark locks and tugging. he moaned, louder this time, and his knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on your thigh.

you watched as his eyes fluttered shut, practically losing himself in your pussy. he shifted to sucking on and licking at your clit, reveling in the way your cries got higher and more frequent, and how your body writhed wildly against his face. then he’d move back to devouring you, messily and loudly.

your hold on his hair went icy and you pushed him deeper into your cunt, thighs spreading impossibly wider. murdoc whined at the assertion, peering up at you through hooded eyelids.

the sight was obscene, burning itself into your vision forever. the feeling would, too. you hadn’t received anything like this in years, especially not from your silicone and rubber replacements at home.

it’s then that you notice that he’s breathing too hard — or rather, moving far too much — and that he’s slowed down significantly. and that his hands have left both of your thighs and had gone back to his lap. one still loosely held your calf, you realized, but the other worked at his stiff cock. you couldn’t see it, only the rapid up-and-down of his fist.

it wasn’t because of his jumpsuit, which he had worked open at some point, but because also in his hand was your panties. it should’ve disgusted you. watching murdoc jerk himself off and using your panties to do it.

but instead your breathing went ragged and you moaned. “fuck, fuck, murdoc!” he groaned in response, his tongue delving into your pussy in slow, deep drags. he didn’t care that you’re fucking his face now, or that he can’t breathe. he was chasing his own high, fisting his dick with your panties and listening to your relentless cries.

you cursed and cried out as the coil tightened in your gut, feeling like your body was about to explode if he didn’t stop. you didn’t want him to. so you held his mouth against your cunt, hips jerking sporadically as you finally came on his tongue. you felt murdoc’s lips curve into a smirk against you, but you didn’t have the strength to care.

instead, you let him fuck you with his tongue through your blinding orgasm, gently rolling your hips in time with his languid thrusts. you tilted your head and peered down at him, watching him get himself off with your underwear.

you wished you’d worn a sexier pair, but the stirring in your stomach was still there. just knowing they were yours.

a weak moan slipped from you when the sensitivity started to catch up with you. murdoc kept going, still licking up your first orgasm. “holy shit, murdoc,” you slurred, a second orgasm quickly building.

your head fell back and your fingers ran through murdoc’s hair, tousling it even more. but he persisted now, shifting to messily work at your clit. the noises were obscene, and the shame was beginning to set in, but once you looked down and caught his gaze, it was gone.

his nose poked at your abdomen while he sucked on your sensitive nub, and spit and cum glistened around his mouth. you held the contact for only a moment before you came for a second time on his tongue, and telling from the trembling moan he let out right after, he did too.

he pulled away after a second, both of your heavy panting filled the room. you could barely hold yourself torso up, you couldn’t even imagine standing up yet. so you stayed propped against the edge of the table while murdoc cleaned himself as best as he could.

“you can keep them.” you mumbled before he could even try to give you your panties back. but the man only blinked at you.

“i know.”

the anger from before threatened to return. god, he was such an asshole.

“that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asked with a smug smirk as he wiped your cum from his face with the back of his hand. the action made you gulp, and the way he was staring at you, still on the ground, forced you to your feet and to the other side of the table.

you had to put distance between you and him or you’d end up shoving his face right back between your legs again. and you would rather die than have murdoc know that you wanted him to tongue fuck you again.

“right, now, can you give me what i need?” you asked, hurrying to rearrange the shuffled papers on the table.

murdoc got back up into his chair, watching you compose yourself with amusement. “that depends, sweetheart.” he replied. “what do you need? names or another round?”

did this in one sitting ur welcome. god i love david dastmalchian. so much. also i might write a part 2 to this.

[how-serene]

Won't You Say That You Love Me?

Pairing - Johnson (Reprisal) x Fem!Reader

Summary - Why did you have to love another?

Word Count - 1k+

Warnings - not proofread, angst, nsfw, oral (fem receiving), mention of female anatomy, fem pronouns used, infidelity, reader is engaged, no use of y/n, first smut (still learning), mentions of guilt, reader prays for a second??, obviously I don't condone cheating

A/N - Inspired by 'This Thing Called Loved' by Stephen Sanchez.

Love was a funny thing, wasn’t it? 

It was something that could mend and break, over and over again. Yet somehow, it always found a way to repair itself. 

You wondered, looking up at Johnson, if love was strong enough to rebuild the damage you caused. If love was truly enough to save someone. 

“We can’t do this anymore, Johnson.” You whispered, flushing from his touch. His lips caressed the edge of your jaw, peppering kisses down to your neck. He could feel the spike of your heartbeat, as you drew in a shuddered breath.   

“Tell me you don’t want this.” He said, nudging his nose against yours. “And I’ll leave.” 

Your fingers hooked around his dark blazer, subconsciously bringing him closer. His mouth burned against your skin, leaving behind seared memories you wouldn’t be able to scrub off. 

“God, please don’t.” You pleaded, latching your lips onto his. The outside world melted away, as you heard him groan into the kiss. He cradled your jaw in hands, pushing toward you despite the height difference. Soft strands of your hair wrapped around his fingers like vines, as if trying to hold onto him. He smelled like sweet hairspray, comfort and familiarity coiled in your stomach. It almost made you cry. You could taste your cherry chapstick on his lips, but something else too beyond the sweetness. It coated his tongue. Nicotine. 

“My fiancé-

Your words were cut off, as he harshly nipped at your bottom lip. The yelp that escaped you was swallowed back as Johnson’s tongue swiped over yours. His kiss was bruising, as if trying to leave behind an imprint. Your head felt fuzzy, as his hot mouth suddenly left yours. Sheer chapstick coated the outer edges of his swollen lips. Your chest swelled with ego, knowing the taste of you would linger for the rest of the night. 

“Don’t mention him.” He said, hand trailing down your thigh. You watched, in fascination, as he slowly fell to his knees before you. 

“Eyes on me, pretty girl.” He muttered, before pushing your dress up. The fabric bunched at your hips, showcasing a set of black laced panties. Johnson carefully hooked his fingers under the waistband and tugged them down, the material scratched against your skin as they fell to your ankles. You pressed your hands flat against the wall, shame pooling in your stomach as you glanced away. 

“Look at me.” Johnson demanded, his quiet tone sending shivers down your spine. You caved, as your eyes met his. They sparkled up at you, solely trained on your face. The sight nearly made you fall to your own knees. Never did your fiancé gaze up at you like this, like a man kneeling before his god, to pray and worship. His hands on your skin felt like some sick form of salvation, one you weren’t aware you needed. 

‘God, forgive me.’ You prayed. ‘Of all that I’ve done wrong, please forgive me for loving another.’ 

Then you felt him against you, as he slid the flat of his tongue over your slit. You squirmed, sighing from the sensation. His hands gripped onto the fat of your thighs, pulling your heat flush against his mouth. 

“Fuck.” You whimpered, entangling your fingers in-between his soft curls. He parted your folds, his hot tongue lapping against you like a starved man. A whine bubbled in the back of your throat, as incoherent pleas fell from your mouth. You felt selfish, enjoying the sight of his worship. God, did your fiancé know what he was doing to you? He was just downstairs, waiting patiently at the bar for your return. 

Johnson moaned, arousal blooming in his stomach. He hooked your leg over his shoulder suddenly, allowing for better access. He sucked at your clit, with greed and fervor. You felt your stomach tighten, eyes rolling back from the sensation. 

“Please, please…” You uttered, the mantra falling from your lips. 

The anticipation built, along with the shame and desire for another life. A life away from the ‘wifely’ duties that your mother ingrained into your head as a young girl. A life where it was Johnson, kneeling like this, proving his devotion. 

Tears stung the corner of your eyes, as you felt heat build up in your core. It wasn’t fucking fair, for life to do this to you. To provide you a man that felt so sweet against you, yet felt so far from your grasp all at once. 

“Oh, god.” You threw your head back, pressing him into you. “Johnson, I’m-

The orgasm washes over you, pulling you under its steady hold. You stumble forward, hands gripping onto Johnson’s hair as you ride it out. You hear him moan against you, as his nails imbed themselves into your skin. Stars danced in your vision, temporarily blinding you. 

A sob worked its way up your chest, as tears pooled in your eyes, before falling down your cheeks. Johnson pulled your underwear back up, securing them around your hips before fixing your dress. Through your blurry vision, you pulled him down by his collar til he lips met yours. The kiss was disgustingly desperate. It was sloppy, and careless, as the taste of you on his tongue mixed with your salty bitter tears. His hands trembled as they wrapped around you. 

“I wish it was you.” You whispered, embarrassed by your words. Your bottom lip quivered, something else wading on your tongue. A confession you knew there was no coming back from if it escaped you. So you left it, to sit and rot inside you. 

“Don’t cry, doll.” He cooed, brushing away your tears. You burrowed into his chest, a cry leaving your throat. His hands held onto you, not ready for you to pull away. Like always. 

You sobbed into his neck. “God, I wish it was you.” 

“I love you.” He said, voice cracking. You couldn’t say it back, despite the urge to do so being right there. 

You realized, with a heavy heart, that love was not enough to save someone in the end. 

At least, not you. 

What more could I do If love means what I feel for you? Won't you say that you love me? For, in your eyes, I know this to be true

[you-didnt-see-that-cuming]

someone tell me why I can’t stop thinking about this man

made by djarinpatrolmp4 on tiktok

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

📖🤹‍♂️🔞, pretty pleeeaasee ?

Collared But Untethered - Abner Krill/Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/N, gender-neutral reader, slowburn, slight exhibition (Belle Reve), touch-starved induced desperation, making out, sudden smut, handjobs.

Wordcount: 2970

Summary: Even with every personnel in Belle Reve questioning why you wanted him, you kept coming back for more so long as they kept letting you touch him just out of sight.

Notes: Even when I try to drabble I still can't resist the buildup cause I love him so much oop- This is the first request I've ever gotten/filled so here we gooooo :'D I hope you like it, thank you so much for sending something in 💗💗💗

You were 100% certain that everyone had caught on by now to what you two were doing, but it was hard to care when orange fabric was bunched under your hands and the sound of his poorly quieted voice was in your ear. Belle Reve was well known for its lack of care towards its residents, so at first you’d both assumed that someone would barge in at any second to tear you apart, ban you from ever returning, but you were going on your fifth visit now with no one disturbing you, so even if you weren’t as perceptive as you’d thought and they were watching on a camera you’d missed no one made it known.

You’d first seen him on TV, shakycam footage barely capturing him as he and the other prisoners briefly designated as ‘Heroes’ made quick work of the current bigger threat destroying the city, and the way his powers had lit up the area in a rainbow of colours had instantly drawn you in, made you forget all about the danger as you hid in your apartment and waited in terror for it to be over, trembling hands clasped together in front of your heaving chest as you prayed you’d be safe. He’d destroyed that threat singlehandedly the second he was sure no one else was in his way, the others chiding him in the footage as he’d closed up on himself and apologized, having forgotten their goal of taking the villain alive so he could join them in their home. 

He was so unlike anyone you’d ever seen before, a timebomb of danger wrapped up in a polka-dotted bow, hands fidgeting and head downturned nervously while the destruction of what he could do showed all along the street up to where gory remains decorated the open main road.

As the reporter took over the submitted shakycam with her own live footage, people circled the villains to thank them, albeit keeping their distance even as they reached out to shake hands, pat backs, give gifts that would definitely be confiscated as soon as they returned. No one thanked him for killing their target, everyone too afraid of the gauntlets holding back bright lights and coloured dots, worried that he’d turn them on the crowd next even as the infamous Harley Quinn herself showed off the gun she’d stolen from one of the fallen policemen to a couple kids who’d wandered up to praise her without their parents’ permission.

That wasn’t fair at all, he’d needed some thanks too.

So you’d left your apartment and hurried down to them, the fight just a couple blocks away, the still burning circles in the buildings and pavement growing in number the further you got. They were already starting to get into the armoured vehicle that brought them there by the time you’d arrived, and you didn’t know his name so you could only call past the gathered guards making sure they didn’t run before he disappeared out of sight. He turned to face you, one of his teammates elbowing him to go when it became obvious that you were there for him; he walked back down the lowered ramp to approach, looking apprehensive that you’d want to talk to him when the others were right there, so you’d extended your hand to shake his, prove that you weren’t afraid but rather thankful for his help as you reached as far as you could between the two guards keeping you at a distance for your own safety.

The moment his hand touched your own you knew that you could never let him get away again.

Visitors to Belle Reve were always heavily inspected and supervised, no one ever allowed to meet face to face for fear of what could happen to either party as well as those around them, and they made that explicitly clear to you as you passed their inspections and were ushered down the hallway to the partitioned phones. The moment you told them that you were there for the Polka-Dot Man so they knew who to get they’d hesitated, turned halfway down the hallway to look at you like you were crazy, some weird thing to be studied for wanting to see him of all people. You’d just simply shrugged and told them you wanted to thank him for the other day.

He’d never had a visitor in all his time being there, and the moment he’d seen you holding the phone opposite of his own he’d gone red in the face, a mix of embarrassment for the continued support and obvious confusion as to why you’d sought him out a second time. It was cute, and while the conversation had been short, his voice low and answers coming out in single worded sentences as he thought about what to say, it still brought butterflies to your stomach until your time was up, your final question asking for his name before you were forced to hang up.

‘Abner…’ he’d told you, like he hadn’t said it in a long time. ‘Abner Krill.’

The second time you visited you asked for permission to talk to him face to face, as his voice barely carried over the phone and he had a tendency to forget he was holding it as he talked to the desk. Request denied, but they’d think about it for the right price, it wasn’t like he was going to escape his birdcage when it kept him safe from himself, the shiny collar around his neck stopping the kaleidoscope from painting the walls in cinders. That conversation had come easier, the guards getting bored and pulling out their phones as you talked about everything and nothing at all, his words flowing a little more freely.

The third time you’d gotten your request with the handing over of a few steep bills slid under the table, Abner looking around at the room before seeing you and smiling. There was a little more space between you compared to the phones but the wall was gone, and you almost missed his questions about your life as you watched his mouth speak, hands rubbing and fidgeting on top of cold metal in his persistent nervousness. The moment you’d started talking about yourself the guard watching over you had sighed loudly in annoyance and walked out, leaving the two of you alone to both of your surprise, the camera whirring in the corner telling you that they were still watching from afar at least.

You shook his hand again when time was up, and he trembled a little less as he stood before you, your bodies dangerously close for a quick moment before the guard rushed in to put a little space between you with an utterly confounded look shot in your direction.

The fourth time you looked around to see if there were more cameras than just the one over your shoulder before he was brought in, his eyes instantly brightening in your presence as they’d recently started to do. He looked more alive, his face less sunken like he was taking better care of himself so you wouldn’t worry, and you longed to hold him as the table became a deep crevasse between you. He wasn’t chained to it this time, they didn’t care enough and he knew better, he was well trained by now, and the moment you were left alone again you’d moved your chair to the empty space on the side, a little closer but not touching, testing the waters as you shot a glance to the camera to see if this was okay.

Nothing happened. No one came. Hands rested in sight as they reached but never touched, the crevasse a little smaller as the space between turned from feet to inches, then centimeters.

When your pinkies linked together it was like a bridge formed instantly, the two of you meeting in the middle as he closed his eyes and just breathed, completely calm as his free hand ran over his arm to make sure the gauntlets were gone, make sure he wouldn’t hurt you. He was touch-starved, that much was apparent as long fingers crawled over your own to create more points of contact, Abner fully holding your hand and forgetting that you were supposed to be talking. Your heart raced as you wanted more, wanted to see what other reactions you could pull from him if just this was enough to make him lean towards you, eager to invade your personal space, or perhaps invite you to invade his.

It was a space he guarded dearly, you’d learned as much over your visits as he told you about how the other inmates treated him, your touch so gentle compared to their punches, both of your chairs sliding over the floor as you closed the gap even more. Still no one came, your eyes going to the door to make sure they weren’t watching you through the wire-meshed glass to see what would happen next but the space on the other side was empty, the camera blinking red high above you as your legs made contact, a buzz of electricity shooting up your spine.

He tried to pull away, surprised by his own brazenness, or maybe it’d been an accident since he was so much taller than you, but you refused to let him, your leg pressed into the cold table leg almost painfully as you pulled him right back. The knowledge that you wanted him close, wanted to touch him even though he could burn right through you in an instant without the collar controlling him, made his chest start to heave then, eyes searching your face for fear but finding none.

Your hand unlinked from his before sliding up his arm, feeling the way he shivered as you reached his elbow, his bicep, muscles tensing under loose fabric just out of sight, a sigh leaving his lips as your fingers carefully trailed over his collar up to his cheek. He leaned into you, slowly at first, like you might change your mind and pull away at any second, his eyes closed tight as chair legs scraped over the ground. The gap closed more and more as you stood, leaned in close enough to see the scars of his time in this place, the way his lips parted ever so slightly as he let out shaky breaths, how long his lashes were as they fluttered in anticipation of what you were going to do next.

The door opened before you could make that final leap, the men who rushed in looking just as confused to your actions instead of angry, and while they weren’t rough with you they did tease him all the way down the hallway as he tried to hide the fact that he’d wanted you in those last seconds, your face flushing as pure longing rushed right to your gut at the sight of something hidden behind shaking hands as he was led to the showers to cool off.

The fifth time you’d come in you’d stared down everyone you passed as they whispered and nodded in your direction, not caring as you headed for your visiting room, no one stopping you even as they shook their heads and questioned your life choices. They still let you wait by yourself, your heart pounding as he was brought in and the door was closed behind him, the guard locking it muttering to himself about how he didn’t get paid enough for this. Abner didn’t even get a chance to sit down as you stood up and grabbed onto his shirt, pulled him down to continue what you’d started with a chaste kiss, testing the waters as he let out a surprised noise against your mouth before it turned into a moan, his hands hovering over you as he tried to decide what to do.

‘Touch me,’ you told him as you parted for a breath, the end of the collar pressing into your own throat as he groaned and kissed you back, dry lips parting to let you in as you ran your tongue experimentally over his bottom one. His hands wandered all over you, touching whatever he could now that he knew you wanted him to, his back hitting the wall and the collar scraping against the brick as he arched against you wantonly. It was like the floodgates had been opened, touch-starved desperation making him want more before you were separated again, your body ready to follow his every command should he ask, wanting nothing more than to make him feel good before he was forced to go back to his solitude. 

You palmed him over his pants and he keened needily, hips moving to feel you more before he stopped himself with a choked whine, he was asking too much too soon, surely you couldn’t want him that badly, surely now would be the time you’d come to your senses and see him like everyone else did. You nipped at his bottom lip, got him to look at you before you glanced up at the camera; it was facing the table, the two of you probably just in frame, so you led him to the corner directly underneath it, in its blindspot as you played with the hem of his pants.

‘Do you want this?’ you whispered, voice low so anyone outside wouldn’t hear, Abner’s eyes shut tight again as he nodded his head, slowly at first and then a little quicker as you made contact against his bare stomach. He was breathing so heavily, the growing tent just under where your hand rested making you lick your lips; they were bound to stop you before it got too heated but you could at least give him this, all your fantasies from the past month coming to life as you felt hot skin under your fingertips.

He sighed and let his head fall back, hands gripping you like a vice as you touched him, and you couldn’t help but wonder when the last time anyone else had touched him like this had been, if anyone ever had; it made you a bit jealous to think about the former, of someone else making him look this way before you, so you couldn’t help but selfishly wish you were the first as you wrapped your hand around him. His knees shook, he wasn’t used to it, your name falling from his lips as he started to buck desperately into your hand. 

He was beautiful as his jaw went slack, so open with what he wanted as he held you close, your own pleasure building just from watching him come so easily undone like it was the strongest aphrodisiac. His quiet voice came in handy as he moaned out his desires, how good it felt, how he needed more, pleas to not stop sending shockwaves all the way down to your toes as the words started to cut off the closer he got. You felt your throat tighten as his tongue peeked out to wet his lips, needing to taste him again as you swallowed and leaned up to capture him in a deep kiss, his tongue dancing over your own and refusing to let you get away in such a lewd way that it made your head spin.

He didn’t last long between your kisses and your hand attacking him at the same time, his hips jutting with a broken cry of pleasure into your open mouth as he came into your fist, palm gathering as much as you could for his sake. You didn’t realize you were panting as well with how turned on you were as his expression softened into one of pure bliss, a need filling your gut and making you burn with desire unlike anything you’d ever felt before as you wanted more. You pulled your hand free, mouth watering as you felt the sticky substance leak through your fingers, Abner just staring at you through half-lidded eyes as you raised your hand to your mouth, tongue darting out to taste when the door suddenly opened, two guards rushing in.

‘Alright, that’s enough of that,’ one of them said, your fist held by your side as you were pushed out of the way, Abner letting out an actual whine at not being able to return the favour before he was dragged out the door. Once he was out of sight you were led to the nearest bathroom, the guard not fooled at all by your attempted nonchalance and letting you wash up, your hand shaking as you still felt his heat against your wet skin. You wouldn’t do anything about your own situation until you were home, the guard just shaking his head as you rejoined him and followed him to the front doors, the detour allowing you a glimpse of Abner as he walked down a connecting hallway.

Despite the cuffs around his hands and the collar around his neck he looked relaxed, free, not even reacting as one of the inmates passing by tried to insult him, sharp canines biting his lip as he just stared the men down. You grinned, proud of him as you walked out of sight of him again, the highly protected doors leading to the outside world coming into view moments later. You didn’t leave right away, turning to talk over your shoulder as your escort waited impatiently for you to go, a gleam in your eye as you stared into his mask.

‘I’ll be back again next week,’ you promised, everything that came with that unsaid but understood, and he sighed before giving you a shove, everyone around you already whispering about the day’s visit as you just grinned and walked out into the warm Louisiana sun.

[godspeedviper]

Saturday Night Fever - Jack Delroy x F!Reader

𖤐 Requested by Anon: Politely requesting some Jack Delroy x OC hurt/comfort. MAN AM I A SUCKER FOR some good old fashioned caretaking – a bad day, a cold, something has our intrepid host down but trying to push through and the OC makes it their task to cheer him up.

𖤐 Synopsis: Jack Delroy wakes up the day after his fated Halloween Special in 1977. Pure fluff.

𖤐 Type: Fluff || Comfort || Caretaking || Sickfic || Fix It fic || Post Canon

𖤐 Word Count: 1848

𖤐 Rating: Gen || SFW || Mentions of Medication

𖤐 A/N: Sorry this took so long! I had a real bad month (chronic illness) and as a result i've been listening to a lot of ASMR whilst bedridden and writing this kinda helped me through the weeks as well. ALSO the inspo for the "plot" came from this commercial and a comment on that video that said they, and i quote, "hated the dissonant piano at the end". It got me thinking of how surreal it would be to wake up to that while sick. Additionally, the described furniture in this fic looks like this. Final note, the NBC nightly news anchors at the time (1977) were John Chancellor and David Brinkley. ANYWAY i just want to see Jack happy and taken care of :(

  Jack stirred in his bed at the sound of strange dissonant piano keys in the distance. His eyes fluttered open, catching a blurry glimpse of the tail end of a commercial. He had a violent headache and his whole body ached. He tried to speak but his throat felt scratchy and sore. 

“Hey there handsome!” said a voice “Shh… There there now, try and take it easy.” 

“Minnie?” Jack croaked out. 

“If you’d like me to be, sure.” Replied the voice with a smile. 

  She reached out to the coffee table in front of them and picked up a small hand towel. She dipped it into an adjacent bowl filled with water and then used the damp cloth to gently pat Jack’s clammy forehead. He let out a relieved sigh in return as the cloth felt cool against his feverish skin and soothed his headache. Each muscle in his body slowly relaxed, sinking back into a curved chartreuse sofa.

“Oh you poor thing you’ve had a real long night haven’t you.” 

“What happened?” Jack mumbled. 

“You caught an autumn cold and went on to do your Halloween special, but the heat from those TV lights in the studio made you start running a real high fever.” She said, unfolding the damp towel and placing it flat across Jack’s forehead. “The fever was so high it started messing with your head on set and you began to talk nonsense about the devil and all live on your show!” 

Jack’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, everything had seemed so vivid and felt so real that it seemed unlikely to have all been a hallucination. 

“Then… How did I end up here?” He spoke cautiously, both from the ache in his throat and out of fear. “And where is ‘ here’ exactly?” 

“You’re at the big boss’ penthouse atop the UBC building. He has this place for when he stays working late, comes up here to catch a few zzz’s then goes right back to meetings and the like. Figured it would be easier to keep you from the prying eyes of tabloids here than in a hospital.” She said in a very matter of fact voice, as if Jack should have deduced it all. 

  Jack tried to make the effort to sit up and look around, but his body felt far too weakened and pained to complete the task. He only managed to raise his head and lift his shoulders a few centimeters off the sofa before collapsing back onto the cushy furniture. 

“Oh you poor thing,” Jack heard her say as he shut his eyes and groaned in pain. 

“Wait…” He mumbled. “If… if the fever was that bad? Why am I not with a doctor or in the emergency room or an ambulance?” 

“That’s what I’m here for silly!” She laughed, shrill and dainty like the ringing of a small bell. “I’m a home caregiver hired by the big boss. You can call me Nurse Minnie if you’d like, since that’s what you blurted out earlier. It’s my job to make sure you’re right as rain in no time.” 

“Uh-huh…” Jack nodded slowly. He was still in disbelief, but he had no other explanation for how he was feeling or for what he remembers experiencing. 

Regardless, his fever and headache were very very real and so, he tried relaxing his tense muscles, slowly shifting into as comfortable a position as possible. 

“Would you like some tea now that you’re awake?” She asked, daintily batting her lashes at him. 

“Um, yes please.” It sounded almost like a question coming from Jack, but she didn’t seem to mind. 

“Alright then, wait right here Mr. Delroy and I’ll be back in a few minutes.” 

 Jack’s large, dark eyes followed her as she stood up from the sofa and took her leave. He then turned his attention to the coffee table on his right side and looked over all the items laid on top; a thermometer, some small hand towels, some medication, the television remote, and the aforementioned bowl of water. He reached out for the remote – the buttons were rubber but the body was made of sleek wood that felt cool to the touch – turning up the volume and flipping through the channels until he saw a picture of himself on the nightly news with a headline ‘Is Television Going to Hell?’

“After last night’s heartstopping broadcast, Night Owls with Jack Delroy has skyrocketed to the top of the Nielsen charts as viewers everywhere proclaim this to be the most frightening thing put to screen since The Exorcist hit theaters back in ‘73.” Said a man in a sandy colored suit jacket with a matching color tie. 

“That’s right, David.” Replied the man sitting to his left. “A spokesman for UBC kindly let us know that the entire night was scripted and to rest assured that no one was harmed in the making of the program.” 

“Now hold on a minute, John. That isn’t entirely true!” The man in the sand colored suit interrupted. 

“Correct,” His co-host replied with a swift synchronicity rarely seen outside of tennis matches. “That same UBC representative also made it clear that while the entire broadcast was scripted the titular host, Jack Delroy, was running a high fever that night, resulting in his erratic behavior towards the end of the program. However, he has since been hospitalized and is on the mend.” 

  Jack sat there with his mouth agape, trying to wrap his mind around what the newscasters were saying. His thoughts were quickly interrupted as his caretaker returned to the living room, placing a tea cup and accompanying saucer on the table right in front of him. 

“Here you are,” She said, sitting on the edge of the sofa near his hips and helping him slowly sit up. “Please be careful, it’s hot.” 

“Oh, oh thank you.” He replied, slowly reaching for the teacup. 

“I see you’re catching yourself up to speed.” She said, nodding towards the television set. “How does it feel to be at the top?” 

“Hot.” He said with a chuckle. 

“Was it worth it?” 

Jack froze, unsure of what to say. His eyes flitted down towards the teacup, then back up at her, but she was giggling along with his statement. Jack nervously smiled, fully doubting his senses. 

“Oh Mr.Delroy, even when you’re not on camera you still have a sense of humor.” 

“Sorry,” He said sheepishly as his cheeks started to blush. “I can’t help it… And please, call me Jack.” 

  She smiled back at him in earnest, mindlessly reaching for the discarded hand towel which had rolled off his forehead and onto his lap. “Don’t be sorry about that, Jack.” She gave him a poignant look. “Most people let fame get to their head. They become rude, ungrateful, and just plain old unpleasant. I will happily take your bashful apologies and polite sense of humor over all that any day.” 

“Thank you.” He said, blush spreading to the whole of his face. 

  Jack finished his tea in silence as she lay back and watched the remainder of the news broadcast with him. The anchors had moved past Jack’s news story and onto the Son of Sam, whose court date had just been set for May of the following year. Once he finished his drink, Jack tried to stand up and take away the used porcelain, but he was quickly stopped by his nurse. 

“Please, let me take care of you Jack. It’s what I’m here for.” She held the teacup in one hand and used the other to gently press against his chest, lowering him back onto the sofa. “Trust me, you are not a burden, this is no bother.” 

“A-alright.” Jack reluctantly lay back and let go of his worries. 

  She set the teacup back on the table for a moment to reach for the blanket draped over Jack’s legs and pull it up towards his neck, tucking him in. Once he was comfortable she grabbed the thermometer off the table and brought it to his lips. Jack complied without words, allowing her to place the item into his mouth and under his tongue, holding it there as she lifted the teacup and left the room. She swiftly returned, taking the instrument from his lips to read the temperature, reacting only with a soft disappointed sigh. 

“That bad, huh?” Jack tried to laugh but choked out a cough instead. 

“Shh shh let your throat rest so the tea can do its work.” She cooed, reaching out for another hand towel. “You’re doing much better but your temperature is still within feverish range. I’m going to apply another damp towel to your head and then let you rest. Unless you need anything else?” 

“An aspirin perhaps?” Jack whispered. 

“Oh, does your head hurt? I’m sorry, I should have thought to offer you some sooner so you could have taken it along with your tea. I’ll go get you a glass of water for that and then I’ll massage your head to make up for it.” 

  She stood up and quickly left the room before Jack could try and protest the unnecessary apology. Instead, he slowly propped himself back up into a sitting position, ready to receive her offerings of care. Upon her return she smiled at the sight of him, waiting and ready like a good little boy. She picked out a pill from a small bottle and handed it to Jack. Much like with the thermometer, Jack submitted to her care and took it without protest, like a good boy indeed. He lay back down and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the throbbing in his head, while she picked up the remote and turned off the TV. She stood back up and Jack could hear her walking around the room. He then heard the sound of her rustling through a shelf of records, followed by the unmistakable scratch of the needle over the vinyl disc. David Bowie’s Space Oddity began playing softly in the background, and she returned to once more sit on the edge of the sofa alongside Jack. 

“I’m going to place another damp towel on your forehead to help break your fever, alright?” She whispered. 

  Jack nodded and settled into the sofa. Her gentle whispers made his ears tingle, as did the slightly spongy sound of her dabbing the damp towel along his face before laying it across his forehead. She then put her fingertips onto the edge of his scalp, right where it met the skin, and began rubbing them in as a gentle massage. Jack sighed in relief, causing her to giggle under her breath. The droning melody of the music in combination with the head massage and medication was causing Jack to feel as if he were melting directly into the furniture. He began to moan as the overwhelming relief began to feel almost erotic in nature. As Jack was slipping back into oblivion, he swore he could hear her whispering ‘good boy’ every now and again, until he succumbed to sleep. 

Ao3 || Request || Ko-Fi || WiPs

[renhaswritersblock]

⟨Greetings and Welcome!⟩

Hello! I'm Ren and welcome to my blog. I'm into random fandoms, going from movie slashers, to Dastmalchian characters, to WD characters, to CoD characters, and a few of Pascal’s characters.

The Request box is open, so ask away.

I write headcanons, imagines, or one-shots (Fluff, Angsty, Smut)

I write for both female and gender-neutral characters. (More to come in near future.)

NSFW Alphabet (The limit is three.)

Doodle characters (No nsfw.)

NOTE: This is a +18 blog. For those of you who are underage, please leave. I will not take any of your requests and will block you.

I’m not very consistent in delivering fics on a daily basis. I’m simply taking my time and figuring out a way to put it on my schedule.

Let me know which one of the above you want me to write! 

To-Do List

(Masterlist is still a work in progress.)

Hope you all have a great day, Ren out!

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Characters I'm able to write:

David Dastmalchian characters:

Bob Taylor

Murdoc (Macgyver)

Abner Krill

Johnson (Reprisal)

Lonny Crane

Watch Dogs characters:

Wrench

Richard Malik

Pascal characters:

Joel Miller

Frankie Morales

Miscellaneous:

Matty (Reprisal)

Corey Cunningham (Halloween Ends)

(More coming soon...)

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Hope you all have a great day, Ren out!