#jackson rippner x you

[floralcyanide]

𝟑𝟎,𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐭 - 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐧𝐞𝐫

jackson rippner x f!reader

Usually, airports were the bane of your existence due to your career and the constant requirement to travel. But when you stumble upon a handsome man at the airport bar, your disdain for flying seems to change.

warnings: smut, nipple play, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, public sex, mile-high shenanigans

word count: 2780

author’s note: not proofread again lulz but when do I ever?? anyway I got a request for this and had to write it right away because I love jackson sm omg. please lmk if you enjoyed and send some feedback <3

main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

You wouldn’t mind it if you didn’t have to step foot inside another airport for the rest of your life.

Unfortunately, your career requires you to travel every month, so your escape from airports will have to wait. You doubt there’s anything that will make your experiences with the liminal spaces any brighter or more profound- you doubt there’s anything that would make them even a smidge exciting. But, who knows, maybe one day you’ll eat your words. So, until then, you’ll fast-walk through airports and terminals with your carry-on with the deepest resting bitch face you can conjure up. And it appears that today will be yet another day that you muster up one.

Deciding to hit the best bar in the DFW airport during your routine TSA spiel, you weave around the other flyers in the corridors in a hurry. Even if your red eye flight has been delayed about two hours, you figure two hours in an airport could be better spent drinking. After scouring the entire airport numerous times on each trip you’ve taken from DFW, you finally settled upon a corner bar near your gate. After passing by it a few times, you decided to give it a chance. Its appearance is initially off-putting- it is dark and moody. Still, it had an oddly comfortable atmosphere and good drinks, obviously. You stroll up to the bar, smiling and nodding to the bartender you’ve come to know here. Going to sit in your usual booth, you discover there’s someone already seated there.

“If this were middle school, I’d tell you this is my spot,” you joke as you approach the man, whose face is covered by his long bangs.

A pair of sharp blue eyes glance up at you from their place on the cocktail menu in his large hands, and a sweet smile graces his lips when he looks you over, “I certainly apologize for stealing your spot. Care to join me? I can buy you a drink to make up for it.”

You give him a questioning look, half-joking with your tone, “What’s in it for me?”

“A free drink and your spot back,” the man says haughtily, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“Deal,” you reach a hand out for him to shake.

“Deal,” the man says, accepting your hand and shaking it firmly.

You slide into the booth, sizing the man up, “What’s your name?”

“Jackson,” the man says, his eyes nearly piercings into yours, “Jackson Rippner.”

“Oh,” you raise your eyebrows, suppressing a giggle, “your parents must hate you.”

Jackson laughs, shrugging, “Yeah, you could say that. But you can’t hate anyone if you’re dead.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry-”

“No need. Finished them off myself,” Jackson says, deadpanning.

You pause before laughing at his joke, “Gotcha.”

“So, what’s your drink of choice?” Jackson asks, changing the subject lightly.

“Hmm, I don’t think I’ll tell you just yet,” you let your eyes roam everywhere but Jackson’s face until you land your gaze back on him.

“You want me to guess, then?” Jackson asks, “I’m good at that, actually.”

“Oh, really? Prove it, then,” you say with a playful edge to your tone.

Jackson puckers his lips, furrowing his eyebrows in thought, “I’m thinking white liquor,” he trails off, “Maybe vodka, something fruity but not too skimpy.”

“You’re close, but not quite,” you bite your lip.

“I think you’re the type to have a classic no one considers.”

“Which is?”

“Dirty Shirley,” Jackson snaps his fingers, pointing at you confidently.

“Nope,” you say, grinning, “Just a vodka and Sprite for me.”

“Ah, but I was close.”

“Yes, you were very close,” you say, having the urge to flirt with this man you don’t even know.

“I’ll go grab that for you,” Jackson says, getting up out of the booth and heading to the bar.

While he’s gone, you rummage through your bag for a perfume roller, quickly rubbing some on your pulse points. Then, you unbutton the first two buttons of your blouse, revealing your cleavage just enough to be subtle. Turning around for a second, you see Jackson heading back to the booth, and you brush yourself off before slipping the perfume back into your bag.

“A vodka and Sprite for the pretty lady,” Jackson places your drink down in front of you before returning to his spot across from you.

“‘Pretty lady,’ huh?” you raise an eyebrow, taking the two black straws into your mouth.

“What can I say?” Jackson raises his hands in defense, “You are a pretty little thing. I’m glad I sat in your spot.”

“Oh,” you say, trying not to let your face heat up at the compliment, “Well, I’m glad too.”

The both of you silently sip your drinks after that, sharing fleeting glances while giggling. You decide to be cheeky, slipping off one of your heels and running your foot underneath Jackson’s pant leg. You nonchalantly look around the bar, chewing on your straw as if you weren’t up to anything. Jackson is staring right at you with a smirk as his eyes stare holes into your off-cast ones. 

“Feeling a little naughty, are we?” Jackson whispers, just loud enough to hear over the music.

You move your eyes toward him, “How do you mean?”

“I see,” Jackson looks down at the remainder of his second drink, “You wanna play like that, huh?”

“Play like what?” you challenge him, pushing your foot farther up his leg, now going over his pants and toward his thigh.

Jackson chuckles, about to say something, but he’s interrupted by the airport intercom. Your flight is a few minutes from boarding.

“Oh, that’s me,” you frown, downing the rest of your second vodka and Sprite before looking at Jackson, “What do I owe you?”

“For the drinks? Nothing,” Jackson licks his lips, “But for the teasing? We’ll have to see about that.”

“Oh really?” you ask, your heart rate now picking up at the obvious flirting.

“Really.”

“And what will you do about it?” you daringly ask.

“Well, we are on the same flight,” Jackson says, “So we’ll have to see.”

The two of you head over to the gate, getting in line to board. You boredly flip through a book your friend suggested for you to read on the flight. Jackson takes notice of this.

“Bookworm? Didn’t pick that up about you,” Jackson asks, rolling back and forth on his heels and toes. 

“Depends on the book,” you say, pursing your lips as you skim over the words, “Don’t think I’m a fan of this one, though.”

“That’s a shame. Any ideas of what you’re gonna do on the flight?” Jackson inquires, a flirty undertone in his question.

“Hmm,” you wonder, “Probably sleep. Unless I find something else to do.”

“Ah,” Jackson nods, “Hopefully, you will.”

“Hopefully,” you chuckle.

You and Jackson get separated during boarding, but you do a double-take when you arrive at your seat.

“Are you in the right seat?” you ask.

A familiar pair of striking eyes look up from a book to meet yours, “Did I steal your spot again?”

“No,” you shake your head, laughing, “I’m seat fifteen B.”

“And I’m fourteen B,” Jackson closes his book.

“Interesting,” you say, “Small world, huh?”

“Small indeed,” Jackson exhales, about to say something, until a lady a few rows down asks for help with her carry-on.

You move to the side, allowing Jackson to scoot by you. As he does, he puts a gentle hand on your waist, sending goosebumps up your spine. You watch as he helps the lady, and you try not to laugh when she tries flirting with him. Jackson returns to the row, moving past you again and plopping into his seat. 

“I know we talked for what, two hours? But I never asked, why are you headed to Miami? Work or play?” Jackson asks, buckling his seatbelt as the flight attendants announce preparation for take-off.

“Work, unfortunately. I take this trip often, red eye and everything,” you say, resting your head on the headrest behind you.

Jackson nods, “I’m here for work too. I hate flying, not going to lie.”

“Me too,” you grumble, “I hate everything about flying, including the airport and everything that comes with it.”

“Everything?” Jackson presses jokingly.

“Well, today was different. I actually had a nice time at the airport, especially since I got to meet you,” you say, keeping your eyes on the flight attendant as she goes over the safety precautions and flotation devices under the seats. 

“Good to know,” Jackson says, placing a hand on your knee.

You look at his hand, feeling very warm all over. The plane begins to speed up and ascend, and you relax in your seat, Jackson’s hand still on your knee. His nose is in his book as you try your best to read your friend’s book suggestion. When the plane finally reaches 30,000 feet, the seatbelt light turns off, and the lights dim. Flight attendants offer pillows and blankets, and you take a blanket, tucking your book away and covering yourself with the blanket. You’re on the verge of sleep when you feel Jackson’s hand slide up your thigh. You pretend you’re asleep, not moving or reacting to his touch. His hand is hidden by the blanket, so no one can see his hand move further up, dangerously close to your core. You’re wearing a dress, so there’s easy access. Not that you were complaining that Jackson was touching you. You were feeling him up earlier at the bar, so now it’s his turn. 

Jackson sneaks his hand back down your thigh and over your dress, slowly making his way over your hip and waist, up to your clothed breast. The blanket‘s hem was tucked behind your shoulders, covering up your entire body, so no one could see Jackson’s hand crawl underneath your dress again. This time, to squeeze at your breast. You try not to move or make a noise as Jackson takes your nipple between his fingers, pinching it lightly. Pretending as if he woke you up, you rouse and sit up straight.

“What are you doing?” you ask, acting as if you were asleep.

“I know you’ve been awake the whole time, sweetheart,” Jackson whispers.

“No, I wasn’t,” you say innocently.

“Don’t lie to me,” Jackson chastises, twisting your nipple harshly.

You bite your lip, muffling a moan. You squeeze your legs together as he continues to tweak the bud. 

“Is this what you want? Hmm? Teasing me earlier with your foot, I figured I’d play with you too.”

Jackson’s hand moves to your other breast, flicking your nipple. His other hand travels under your dress, his fingernails pressing into your skin. You bite your lip to stifle a moan from the sharp sensation on the sensitive skin of your thigh. His fingers ease to your core again, ghosting over your clit as you open your legs.

“Be quiet like a good girl,” Jackson says, eyes darting around to ensure no one is looking despite the lights being off.

You nod as he presses two fingers to your clit, rubbing slow, soft circles. Warmth gradually spreads in your lower belly at the sensation, and you widen your legs further. Jackson pulls his fingers away momentarily to slip them inside your underwear and continue his movements on your bare bundle of nerves. You cover your mouth, exhaling shakily at the stimulation. Jackson slips a finger inside you after playing with you for a while.

“Already so wet?” Jackson teases in your ear, his lips brushing against it.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath.

Jackson slowly pumps his finger in and out, eventually adding a second one. You shutter from the delightful stretch. You look around before subtly jerking your hips forward, riding his fingers.

“Fucking yourself on my fingers so good,” Jackson nibbles at your ear lobe, “Can’t imagine how you’d feel around my cock.”

You bite your knuckle to hold in a desperate whine at his words, “Please,” you whimper.

“Please, what?” Jackson asks, his fingers picking up the pace.

“Fuck me,” you whisper, “Take me to the bathroom and fuck me against the wall.”

“What a brazen little one you are,” Jackson grins, pulling his fingers from you and sucking your arousal off them, “It’s gonna take a little more than that, though.”

You groan at the loss of fullness, “Like what?”

“Beg.”

You pull Jackson’s hand back to your soaking slit, “Please touch me, fuck me, do anything you want to me. Please.”

“Keep going,” he pants, circling your clit with his fingers again.

“Jackson,” you sigh, “God, I need you inside of me. So bad,” you hiss.

“Go,” Jackson whispers, “I’ll meet you there.”

You hurry to pull down your dress, pulling the blanket off you before quietly walking to the bathroom. You check the vacancy before pulling the door open, leaving it unlocked for Jackson. You sit on the toilet, waiting patiently as your pulse thumps in your ears. A few moments pass, and the door opens slightly, revealing Jackson before he slips inside the bathroom. You stand up, but before you open your mouth to say something, he picks you up and presses you against the wall. You wrap your legs around Jackson’s waist, kissing him with a bruising force. Jackson slides his tongue through your lips and into your mouth, exploring it as his hands grip your ass. You reach a hand down and unzip and unbutton Jackson’s pants, your hand snaking past his underwear band and wrapping around his cock. 

“Fuck,” Jackson seethes, already hard from previous events in your seats earlier.

He pushes up the hem of your dress around your hips, pulling your underwear down far enough for him to slowly enter your throbbing core. Both of you gasp at the feeling, hours of pining hitting the climax. You thought Jackson was attractive the moment you laid eyes on him. You aren’t passing up the opportunity to join the mile-high club with such a gorgeous man. Jackson pushes further into you, and you relax more so he can press his hips into yours. Your fingers grasp at his hair as he pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in. Your back roughly hits the wall behind you, but it wouldn’t be the last time. You have to hold onto the wall with one hand to not bang into it, your other hand holding onto Jackson’s hair for dear life as he fucks you without mercy. 

“God,” you say, the word drawn out as you and Jackson’s hips slam into each other. 

Jackson covers your mouth as you stare into his blue eyes, now darkened with lust, “Stay quiet.”

You nod, “Mhmm,” you hum from underneath his hand.

Your eyes stay on each other as you move your body forward in time with Jackson, his cock hitting that spot inside you perfectly, sending shockwaves over you. Jackson wraps an arm around your waist, holding you steady as his other hand moves between the two of you to rub tight figure 8’s on your bundle of nerves. You squeal, eyes rolling into the back of your head as Jackson continues to fuck into you like you’re a sex object. You feel yourself clenching around him as your orgasm creeps up. You pull on Jackson’s hair harshly, causing him to moan as his hips stutter. You do it again, and he has to bite your neck in order not to moan out loud. 

“Are you gonna cum?” Jackson grunts into your ear, “Huh?”

“Yes,” you gasp, “Fuck yes, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum around my cock, pretty thing.”

Your release smacks you in the face, sending your body reeling as it nearly convulses against the lavatory wall. Jackson cums right after you as the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock sends him over the edge. You milk him for all he’s got, rutting your hips through both of your orgasms. You both catch your breath as Jackson lets your legs collapse back to the floor weakly. He holds you up as you regain your posture.

“I suddenly really like flying now,” you push your hair out of your sweaty face.

“Me too,” Jackson says with an expressionless face, which you match.

Suddenly, both of you burst out laughing but cover your mouths quickly before anyone can hear in the plane. After cleaning yourselves up, you both successfully sneak out of the bathroom and back to your seats, covering up with the blanket.

“Ever barhopped in Miami?” you ask Jackson, trying your best to hold your eyes open.

“Nope. You?’

“Nope. Want to?”

“Absolutely.”

taglist:

@baizzhu @aporiasposts @hjmalmed @queenshelby @amanda08319 @naty-1001 @orijanko @raineeace @nela-cutie @cutexlr

[your-nanas-house]

Tighter than usual

◇ Pairing: Stepdad!Jackson Rippner X stepdaughter!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, cheating, thigh fucking, p in v, Jackson, rough and dark

◇ Summary: Jackson searches satisfaction after a wet dream.

◇ Note: Came up with this idea yesterday and my lovely @mrkdvidal1989 helped me so much! Another amazing collaboration, enjoy!

Quietly opening the door, Jackson slipped inside without a sound. Whole house was dark, as his wife and Y/n were already sleeping. He was tired, hungry and completely drained. 

It wasn't surprising how late he was coming home, both his wife and step daughter knew how demanding his work was. 

Quietly making his way up the stairs after locking the door, he passed by Y/n’s room, glancing inside to see if everyone was okay.

The twenty year old was sleeping, as always at that time of the night, covered head to toe with her heavy, fluffy blanket, peacefully breathing. 

After seeing it, Jackson didn't wait any longer before heading straight to the bathroom for a quick shower, and less than fifteen minutes later he was finally in bed. The coziness and warmth overtaking him in seconds before he fell into a deep sleep.

”Fuck” Jackson murmured as he woke up covered with a thin layer of sweat, his whole body hot after the wet dream he had. A low groan leaving his lips as he reached under the blanket, feeling the rock hard erection that formed between his legs. 

Hard, hot and aching under the slightest touch, he knew that it wasn't an option to go to sleep with that. Huffing with how incredibly warm and aroused he felt, Jackson's hand wrapped around his thick member stroking it for a moment before he let go. The sensation of his own fingers wasn't enough in any way. 

Turning his head, he noticed the beautiful woman laying by his side, facing away. Her hair resting messily on the pillow as she slept rolled in a little ball. It's been so long since the last time they had sex, Jackson thought with sadness mixed with annoyance. 

Throb of his cock only deepening the despair, as he scooted closer. 

His big hand moves slowly on her body, his breath getting heavier as he stroked slowly her calf… feeling her soft skin while moving his calloused fingers up slowly, following the line of her bare, long leg.

His face moved closer to the back of her neck, allowing him to bury it in her hair.. taking a long sniff of her scent before groaning softly, getting more impatient with each second passing.

His hips moved involuntarily forward, making him find a bit of the friction he craved as his hands moved up the silky tank top she was wearing. So that he could stroke her bare hips before grabbing them.. his cock rubbing against the fabric of his boxers in an almost teasing way. He needed more… he deserved more, he thought as the frustration and anger started to grow in his body, making him quicken his movements. 

Pulling down his underwear freeing his cock from the boxers that grew too tight, too soon. 

Jackson's lips leaving wet kisses on her soft, smooth skin, his breath getting heavier and heavier at the thought of just taking what he wanted.. no, deserved. She smelled of.. a sweet, fruity scent that made his eyes roll in the back of his head, heart pounding in his chest at the burning list rushing through his veins. 

It was his wife’s duty to take care of his needs anyway so he could just slip it in her pussy while she kept sleeping, right? It's not like it would be the first time he did it. 

His bare chest kept moving up and down quickly, his chest hair tickling the woman’s back as his hips pressed harder against her round ass, making him groan softly breathless, his big hand flat against her tummy before he decided to pull carefully down the clothes that were covering her lower half.

His callous hand kneading his flesh of her butt, his breath caressing the shell of her ear 

“Fuck, honey” Jackson growled softly, smirking against the soft skin of her neck “Someone went to the gym, huh? This round ass of yours wasn’t that firm from what I remember” he praised softly, nibbling on her skin, getting more eager and horny. It was true, her body felt.. more firm. Sexier than the last time he had the opportunity to feel it well. 

It wasn't really surprising looking at how they just kept arguing all the time, the last time they slept together over six months ago. 

“Yeah..” he hummed, grinding his bare, leaking cock between her ass cheeks as he stretched to grab the lube from the bedside table. His bottom lip caged between his white teeth as he kept moving his hips. We don’t need a condom, do we, honey? He thought, glancing at the still sleeping woman, his chest pressed back against her back as he spreaded the lube on his cock, pumping it a couple of times before thrusting it between her clothed thighs. No, we don’t.. bet you won’t mind, he thought again as his eyes rolled back and his mouth dropped slightly. Remembering all the arguments she caused lately, acting ungrateful and rude towards her hardworking husband, Jackson bared his teeth involuntarily as anger filled his veins. 

He deserved to take her. Now and anytime.

His hips moved on their own as his hand kept her bare thighs together “Such a good, little slut” he murmured, increasing the speed after he checked that the woman was still asleep. 

His eyes narrowing softly as the thoughts kept spinning and occupying his mind, anger was now boiling in him as his hips increased the pace, making his skin slap against hers. His legs pressing her own down into the mattress, keeping her in place, angled the way he wished. 

That's the least she can do, he thought with arrogance, stay fucking put.

He couldn’t hold it any longer, the need to be inside of her completely overwhelming his senses. So completely lost in his pleasure he grabbed his cock, squeezing it in his fist lightly as his eyes fell shut for a moment, before moving her a bit. After making her change her position to allow him to press his thick cock at her entrance, Jackson's eyes widened feeling how wet she was in her sleep.

Someone had a wet dream too, huh? He thought with a grin. 

He didn't budge or planned to give her an easy time after waiting for several months. Mercilessly thrusting it completely at once, despite remembering how she always struggled to take him. 

His hips smacking her ass harshly “Nu, no spankies, daddy” a soft tired and breathless voice murmured, followed by a whine as his pubic bone kept slapping against her ass, his aching dick inside of the tight warm pussy, burying deeper and deeper with each stroke until finally, he nestled balls deep inside her for a moment, breathing deeply. Jackson didn't remember her being so.. tight. The sudden squeeze on his cock made him have to breathe a couple seconds to ensure he wouldn't cum right away.

“Daddy—” the voice repeated in a whine, squeezing him with her slick, hot walls as never before.

His incredibly bright eyes snapping open as soon as his brain registered whose voice it was, his hips continuing to thrusts in an animalistic pace. Fuck, he thought, stretching his body to go deeper inside of the warm cunt. His jaw dropping open in a silent groan when his hands grabbed his stepdaughter’s breasts from under her silky tank top.

“Fuck, baby.. shhh, everything is all right, go back to sleep.” he murmured, not stopping his assault at her cunt “Such a good girl, yes?” he praised, holding her closer as he increased the speed, listening to her soft moans and whimper.

Jackson wished he could stop, but the lack of pleasure for the last months made him go absolutely feral at the sensation of a tight pussy relentlessly squeezing him and sucking him right back in every time he'd pull back.

Y/n tried to look at him, turning her head to the side, but he didn't let her. Grabbing her jaw with his right hand, he squeezed it tightly keeping her head in place, panting right by her ear, his hot breath hitting the skin on her neck.

”Shouldn’t have come here dressed like that.” He hissed, hearing the whimpers pushing past her lips with each thrust. Jackson's hips had their own mind, picking up a fast rhythm, fucking her hard and without any intention of stopping despite knowing how wrong it was. 

“Where’s your mother?” he rasped out, groaning animalistically in the crook of her neck. It felt so.. forbidden for the both of them. 

Jackson couldn't help but let the little thought blossom in his mind, after getting neglected by his wife for so long. 

Revenge sounded pretty good to him, especially if it consisted in exploring and finding pleasure by using the young body that aroused him since the first time he saw her.

”She.. She..” Y/n attempted to respond, his fingers pressing on her neck a little too tightly to speak freely. ”She went to.. the club.” She managed to stutter out, followed by cries and loud moans as Jackson sped up, hitting her pussy harder than before as anger grew even more. 

“Of course, she went” he spat, clenching his jaw in annoyance and anger “Fucking whore” he insulted his wife, holding Y/n’s throat to keep her in position as his hips smacked against her red butt “But you are better, aren’t you?” He whispered, breathing deeply, inhaling her sweet scent again. 

Jackson leaned in closer, his wet lips grazing over her neck, a little above his hand. ”You’re not a whore like your mother, eh?” he breathed out, making her whine as his thick cock brushed her sweet spot “You’re a good girl, right, sweetheart?” His low voice praised her as Jackson's moves became more sloppy, more careless as he started feeling his climax getting closer and closer, tension in his lower stomach getting stronger with each thrust.

“Fuck, fuck—” he cursed, inhaling sharply… her scent getting him, making him feel surrounded and dizzy for a moment, till he suddenly felt a grip on his balls, her soft hand caressing them, causing him to finally shoot his load inside of her with a low groan.

“Fucking naughty thing” he rasped in her ear, making her giggle cutely that brought a small smile on his face. A smile that dropped as soon as her smaller hands moved his big one on her lower tummy “Will be a mommy now… mommy of your babies” she teased, holding back a smile as she felt his whole body tense, his hand gripping slightly the flesh of her tummy.

“W-what?” he murmured as thoughts ran inside of his head. 

Jackson was completely frozen as his brain started working again, no longer clouded with lust.

Y/n shut her eyes, feeling that he didn't soften inside her yet.. but rather twitched again. 

With a high pitched whine she started moving her hips while rubbing her clit, not wanting to be left without orgasm.

Jackson let out a choked breath, shocked with her previous statement as she kept moving, impaling herself on his still hard cock.

“Y/n..” He breathed out, holding her hips, but it didn't take long before she came, spasming and shaking for a couple minutes.

As soon as her orgasm subsided, Y/n breathed out with a giggle, turning back to face him. A mischievous smile on her face before he pecked his lips, turning back around.

“No worries, daddy, I'm on a pill.” 

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989

[red-riding-wood]

Coldfire - Pt. I

Pairing: Jackson Rippner x F! Reader

Fandom: Red Eye (2005)

Summary: As if catching his eye wasn't dangerous enough, you just had to tease him.

Warnings: SMUT. porn with plot but the plot is hush hush, non-con, teasing and a LOT of foreplay, semi-public sex, violence, near somnophilia, rough sex, humiliation, degredation, dirty talk, pet names, hair pulling, strangers, power imbalance, ("schoolgirl" university theme, but reader is of age)

WC: 6591

You’d smiled at him. That was all.

And now the man beside you was tapping you on your knee, firmly enough to let you know he wanted your attention. Badly.

Flopping your head to one shoulder, you looked up at him, startling blue eyes catching yours again as he smiled around white teeth. “May I help you?” your tone bordered playful and annoyed.

As if to address you more directly, the young man cocked his head slightly to mimic the motion of yours, smile fading as his eyes narrowed, roving across your features.

“I haven’t seen you around.” His voice was low, soft as silk. Were you not focused, you could’ve gotten lost in it. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”

You tapped the end of your pen against your chin absently, looking him up and down. “I just enrolled a week ago,” you answered. “I haven’t seen you, either.”

“It’s my first time taking this class.”

Your eyes wandered to the empty desk in front of him, the space that only his shoes occupied on the floor. He’d dressed for the occasion, charcoal suit jacket and slacks pressed to perfection, silver dress shirt undone a button, but he’d brought no bag. Chestnut hair was swept to either side, settling perfectly over his ears, not a strand out of place, but he had no fucking bag.

A black watched poked from the cuff of his suit jacket.

1:07.

“You don’t say,” you murmured, and drew your gaze from his lazily, your pen lowering back to your page as you turned your focus back to the professor. This was important. You didn’t have time for distractions, even if they looked at you with big, blue eyes and smelled like sandalwood and…

Cinnamon, you realised, as your pen laid its haphazard strokes to the page.

Black ink streaked across the line as he tapped you again, this time on the stretch of bare flesh between your stockings and your skirt. Convenient, you thought. Goosebumps rose where his touch had been, and you sighed, clicking your pen as you turned to face him again, those frighteningly blue eyes boring into yours and his bottom lip nearly turning to a pout.

He was going to be a problem.

“Do you have a pen and paper I could borrow?” He asked, almost apologetic by the way his brows pressed together and his soft voice rose. Almost.

Tension eased from your body as you sighed, the breath having built in your lungs without you knowing, and you reached for your bag on the floor. Cold air kissed your skin where your shirt hiked up from your waist, your fingers rifling around for a loose page from your book and your spare pen. When you came back up, your cheeks were flushed and you had to brush a few strands of your hair from your lashes, but you still caught his eyes venturing lower than they should have for a split second.

“Usually, you bring stuff to take notes with,” you told him, an edge to your tone. As he reached for your spare pen, you pulled it back, a coy smile on your mouth. Something dark flashed in the bright of his eyes. “Often people bring a bag, or something. I’m assuming you forgot that…” you reached the pen out to run along the line of his hair, a strand coming undone and flopping over an unblinking lash. “… when you were doing yourself up all pretty.”

The corner of his mouth quirked, ever-so-slightly, but eyes of shattered ice seemed to latch to your soul, sinking hooks of steel into your chest. He blew a puff of air from his lips, the strand of chestnut hair settling messily over his forehead. You smirked as you handed the pen over, trying to ignore how warm his hand felt as it brushed yours. Repaying him in kind, your fingers brushed his thigh as you passed him the sheet of paper.

His gulp was audible, and you couldn’t help but be pleased with yourself. That would shut him up for a while.

You glanced up at the clock.

1:10.

“You’re one to talk, sweetheart.” That silk voice drifted to you again, and your grip tightened round your pen, the tip stilling on the page. “Bit of a short skirt for the schoolgirl look, don’t ya think?”

This time, when you looked, his gaze was shamelessly glued to the patch of skin above your stockings, and when those blue eyes met yours, you could tell you knew exactly what he was doing.

“Got the hots for the professor, or something?” he pried, biting his lip as he side-eyed you. Your brain went fuzzy at the motion, and you found you couldn’t stop staring at the way those lips parted, the bottom chapped slightly from the dry air and flushed pink from his teeth.

You straightened your spine, hiking your skirt up with an intent that surprised you. “It got you to look, didn’t it?” you almost purred, your teeth running along your lip to imagine, for only a moment, they were his.

It was a game now. He had you where he wanted you, and you knew it.

His watch read 1:11.

Attention sweeping back to the guest speaker, you tried to ignore the blue eyes that darted down to your thigh in the corner of your vision.

Focus, you told yourself, the world blurring at its edges as a heat began to build between your legs.

The guest speaker was drawing a diagram of an atom on the chalkboard. He was some hotshot physicist, recently employed by the military, lecturing at one of the top universities in the state. You were certain it was all very interesting, what he was saying. It was a shame you couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything but the vexing stranger beside you.

Of all the days he could’ve picked to sit beside you.

“You want people to look, don’t you?” His voice wasn’t silk. It was poison. His tongue, a knife so sharp you wouldn’t know you’d cut yourself on it until it was too late.

1:13. Your eyes darted from the clock to the physicist, to the board, to the piece of chalk he gesticulated with. He was one of those well-dressed, prissy types who seemed to look down their nose at you when they talked. But you were sitting close enough to the front row that you noticed the faint lines of purple beneath tired eyes, the shadow of stubble growing in along a sharp jaw…

Fuck. Without realising, your thoughts had wandered back to the stranger, and you shot a look at him as if to blame him for all of this.

“Something wrong?” the stranger asked, brow furrowing in something akin to mockery. The bastard, he wasn’t even using the supplies you gave him, that he had asked you for. He was slouched back in his seat, pen tapping idly against a blank page. Why was he even here?

Your eyes darted to the lines of fatigue beneath his bright eyes, to the shadow of stubble along the jaw he shifted.

“You’re not taking notes,” you pointed out, before turning your attention back to the speaker, and then the clock.

1:17.

“Neither are you.”

Your pen stilled and your blood ran cold. Looking down at your paper, you realised it was utter nonsense; something about isotopes, scribbles, uranium, scribbles…

You decided to go back to tapping the pen against your chin.

1:18.

You watched the physicist’s lips move, but no sound seemed to come out. Your blood was starting to pound in your ears.

But the scoff of the stranger cut through the noise like a knife through butter. “How much did they pay him for this?” he said. “An IED won’t detonate without an oxidizing agent… potassium, chlorine, hydrogen peroxide, fuck’s sake, is this paranoia or laziness?”

It was as if he was talking about mundane, everyday things. His voice was so sweet, his words seemingly so benign that you almost didn’t register what he was saying. It was his frustration that caught you off-guard.

1:20.

“Hey, pal,” someone hissed behind you. “Some of us are trying to listen.” Their voice was so jarring in contrast to the stranger’s that you nearly jumped. You were too antsy. Sweat pricked at the back of your neck, stress creeping in to your joints.

Chewing at your pen, your head swivelled to the side. The chatty stranger was staring down the guy who’d shushed him, a familiar darkness flashing once more through his eyes. The darkness, it met you briefly, as he turned back around, taking notice of your attention. He fluffed his collar and smiled. The shards of ice in his eyes melted, jagged edges blurring.

Had you imagined it?

Probably, you thought, your head weighing heavy on your spine as you turned it to settle your gaze once more on the physicist. Hell, you were practically drooling around your pen; it felt wet against the swell of your lip. Murderous glares were apparently your thing.

1:22.

“You know…” A hot breath raked down your neck, and his silken words seemed to unravel in the space between you like a spool of thread, his lips softer than they looked as they brushed your ear. “ … I think you want to catch someone’s attention.”

You froze up, the strings of his breath sending shivers along your neck. Your jaw turned sore around your pen. You shifted in your seat, practically rubbing your thighs together to sate the itch between them.

1:23. Fuck it. You had work to do, but this man seemed intent on getting under your skin. Why not get under his?

“Oh, and that’s yours, is it?” you purred, not an inch between you as you met his gaze boldly. A freckled nose brushed yours, and bright eyes blackened from dilated pupils. His lip caught in his teeth again, and you had to look away to stop yourself from combusting. You thought you saw him smirk.

1:24.

“You sure are glancing at the clock a lot. Got somewhere to be?” he said, and you tensed.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you muttered under your breath, tearing your eyes from the clock and regarding him with a tinge of suspicion, pen rapping lightly against your front teeth.

“Maybe I already know.” He leaned forward again with a sly grin. “You see, you’ve caught my interest.”

“Really,” you purred, biting your pen. He was forward; you would give him that. He thought he was winning this game, this game that only he knew the goal of. Whether you were more excited or infuriated, you couldn’t tell, but your blood burned hot beneath your flesh and your heart raced within your fluttering chest.

Mirroring his grin, you set the pen down, and fixed him with your gaze. “You see, maybe I do want to catch someone’s attention,” you spoke to him in a soft, slow tone. “Not the professor. His bodyguard, in the doorway.” Blue eyes bore into yours so intently, you swore he didn’t blink. “Maybe after the lecture I’m going to drop my notes on the way out. Bend down to pick them up, my skirt hiking up to reveal a pair of lace panties,” your fingers curled around the bottom of your skirt, revealing more of your flesh, his eyes darting down to take in your little show as his tongue caught gently in his teeth. Before he could catch a glimpse of what was underneath, you released the fabric, and it tumbled over your thigh. Blue eyes flashed dangerously as they returned to yours and his smile faded, chest heaving with quickening breath.

“Maybe I stand up too fast,” you said. “I stumble, backing into him. I spin on my heel and apologise and I look him up and down, all-innocent like.” You demonstrated your words, letting your gaze rake across the buttons along his shirt, the simple leather belt above his slacks. When you looked back up to meet his gaze, batting your lashes, it was as if the ice in his eyes had completely melted into pure, white-hot need. This only spurred you on, your heartbeat pounding between your legs as you brought your finger up to a lock of your hair. “Maybe I twirl my hair. We get to talking. We end up in the hallway, on the way to a storage room. Thing is, see…” With your other hand, your finger began to slowly trace up his thigh, making small circles. “… I can’t keep my hands to myself.” Darkness collided with blue fire as you grabbed at his thigh, nails digging in. He looked almost wild, ready to devour you, his perfect hair flopping a little over his eyes. “There are wet floor signs up. No one goes down there. So he grabs me by the hips and lifts me against the wall. Maybe you’ll walk by, catch a glimpse of my heels knocking together behind him. Maybe you’ll hear me whimper, my lips parted and eager.” His eyes darted to your mouth, his breath fanning against your cheeks as he leaned in ever-so-slightly, entranced. As if you were giving him ideas.

Cold washed over your face as you sprang up in your chair, your hand returning to your own lap as you looked at him triumphantly and said, “Or maybe I just dress like a slut because I really want to get an A.”

Yup, you definitely hadn’t imagined his murderous look. Because right now he was looking at you like he wanted to either rail you against the desk or choke you out cold. Maybe both. And if you weren’t careful, you were going to melt under that coldfire gaze.

A sigh escaped a pouted lip as you set your sights back on the rather disinteresting chalkboard. Above, the clock’s hand inched dangerously closed to half-past. 

This time, the scratch of his stubble brushed your earlobe and you shuddered beneath his panted breath. “Stop pretending like you care about the lecture. I know you just want to be fucked.”

Time, for one moment, seemed to freeze. Everything went still. People around you were packing up books, but no sound travelled past the deaf ring in your ears, punctuated only by the thud of your heart.

And then the clock’s hand reached 1:30. And the world slammed into you, the screech of chairs against flooring and the bustle of rowdy students seeming to split open your head, and streaks of red and blue and grey moved in front of you – binders, cardigans, hoodies, varsity jackets, all spilling through the aisles in one converging mass.

“I have to go,” you told the stranger, who stayed planted in his seat, staring up at you as you slung your bag over your shoulder and pressed your book to your chest. “You can keep the pen and paper.”

A puff of hot breath warmed the backs of your thighs as you purposely turned your back to him, skirt swishing in his face as you shimmied past.

Smoothing out your clothing, you released a shaky sigh, slipping into the mass of students as if swept up by a tide. The flurry of air sent a shiver down your sweat-dampened neck, and you tried not to focus on how the lace seemed to cling, already messy and wet and used, between your thighs.

As you passed the bodyguard in the doorway, your elbow caught in the crook of someone’s arm, and your notebook fell to the floor. Knees bending slightly, your fingers grasped for the metal bindings, your index snagging one of the rings. The world seemed to spin as you straightened, and when you backed up a pace or so, your ass hit something solid. Fingers ghosted over your hips, and your breath hitched in your chest.

“There you are, sweetheart,” a familiar, silken voice met your ears. Confused, you turned, and a hand settled in the groove of your waist, pulling you close.

“This one, she’s a little clumsy when she’s not on her meds,” the stranger told the bodyguard, and indignation passed across your features, but his fingers tightened around your waist, and his side felt sturdy against you. “Excuse us,” he said, and pushed you back into the flow of the crowd.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” you hissed at him, eyeing the bodyguard as you passed. He disappeared among the many bobbing heads.

“I have a special assignment for you.”

“Look, if you wanna give me your number, I – “

“Will do exactly as I say if you want to live,” he finished your words. “See, you’ve created a bit of a problem for me. It wasn’t meant to go like this.”

“Go like how?”

“You’ll see.”

His fingers were wrapped around the curves of your waist almost possessively, the heat of his palms burning through your thin shirt, guiding you through and from the crowd and into a hallway where the click of your heels punctured the silence and yellow, wet floor signs seemed to race past your vision. His stride was long, yet purposeful, with a contagious sense of urgency, as if he were on a mission, and you couldn’t tell if it was anxiety or excitement that seemed to stir in your belly. Gravity tugged you downward for one cruel second, adrenaline seizing you as your heel slipped from under you, but his body was there to catch you, firm against your spine, and his hand scooped beneath your skirt to grab a handful of skin and lace. You were righted with a startled huff, your ass dragging against a rather prominent outline in his slacks before you were shoved through the doorway.

“Sir, this is the women’s bathroom,” you sassed, as he manhandled you into the room that you hoped wasn’t as empty as it sounded. “I don’t think you’re allowed in here.” The last words left your lungs in a spool of thin air; you nearly went stumbling forward as he shoved you again, this time with the intent to put space between the two of you. Whirling on your heel, you saw him draw a lanyard from his pocket and you frowned.

“Oh, I don’t think anyone will mind,” the stranger said, turning the key in the lock of the door. You narrowed your eyes at him in confusion as a smile stretched across white teeth and bright eyes gleamed with equal parts annoyance and mischief.  

“Bit overdressed for a janitor, don’t you think?” You looked him up and down, your heart pounding against your ribs, with nothing but your words to arm you. You glanced at the stalls, all swung half-open.

Darkness flashed through bright eyes, and another lock of chestnut hair flopped over his forehead as he tilted his head down to glare at you, like a wolf would its prey. “Do I look…” He advanced, and you backed up instinctually, ass hitting the edge of the counter. “… like a fucking janitor to you?” His hot, minty breath raked across your face, your painted lashes fluttering, and his fingers snaked through your hair, gathering a handful in his palm and forcing you to look up at him. Fire raced along your scalp, and a sneer pulled over your teeth.

“Hey, the jumpsuits aren’t really my style, either… but if you don’t mind, I have somewhere to be…” The second you pushed yourself off the counter, his weight pinned you against it, the ceramic digging harshly into your spine. Your eyes darted to his watch.

1:35.

Damn him.

“I really think this is more important.” His voice dropped low and husky, caution laced into his growl of a tone, and something about the way you looked at him seemed to make him all the more feral.

You could barely contain your scream as you plunged your neck forward, white-hot pain stinging your scalp as your teeth snapped at his wrist and he pulled; your lips brushed flesh before your head was yanked back in a dizzying wave, and the fluorescent bulbs of the bathroom exploded like fireworks as your skull came crashing against the counter. The sounds of your struggle faded away into a harsh ringing; everything was too bright, too loud, the brilliant white of the fireworks flooding through the thick mass of hair that fell over your eyes. You shuddered, the fight leaving your body, and you were sinking, the world turning on its shaky axis.

A warmth brushed over the bare flesh of your thighs, the curve of your hip, blocking your fall and lifting you almost gently atop a hard, damp surface. Knives of white sliced your retinas as your head rolled back, and you groaned, squinting your eyes shut. It felt as if the knives were cleaving open your skull, smoldering with heat as if drawn from hot coals as your head met another hard, solid object.

A soft tutting filtered through the ringing of your ears, and distantly, a voice spoke to you, edged like the blades that split your skull, “Vicious little thing, aren’t you? Rabid bitch. Gonna have to put you down if you pull something like that again, sweetheart.”

What was he talking about? Why were you in so much pain? Why wasn’t the man reacting to the world rocking back and forth?

“Open your eyes…” The knives began to dull, their edges softening into silk spools. “Look at me, sweetheart… I want you to look at me.” You winced as light flooded your vision, a gentle hand sweeping the hair from your face and ghosting your parted lips before cupping your chin. “Look at me,” he repeated, firmer this time. It must have been important, so you peeled back your eyelids, weary.

The fireworks bled across your blurred vision, and pain tap-danced along your skull, your gut churning but the stranger’s hand steadying you. Navy and grey and white all undulated around the distinct figure of the man, black suit eclipsing the light. Your head was heavy, so heavy that you could’ve toppled, but he still held you firm, and each time you blinked, a new detail came into focus. His hair, dark, messed; his lips, parted, flushed pink.

His eyes, blue. So blue.

“That’s it… good girl.” Were it an object, you could’ve sunk into that voice, let it chase away your pain and soften the fall when gravity finally won you over. A soft whimper came shattered from your lips, suddenly dry. You snaked a tongue between them and felt the sting of your teeth as his hand lowered beneath the weight of your skull. Warmth danced along the flesh of your thighs, stretching your panties taut, a finger brushing the heat between them. Another whimper rose to your tongue, which watered as the spice of cinnamon and the creaminess of sandalwood collided with your senses. The fresh bite of mint, joining the mix as his breath pooled at the base of your neck.

“I think you want to stay awake for this, sweetheart.”

“Wha…” Your lips barely formed a sound as your eyes fluttered, and no sooner did you wonder why he wanted you awake did the thought disappear from your clouded mind, and a jolt travelled from the pool of heat between your legs to the very top of your skull, numbing the pain for a split second of bliss.

Shards of light danced across your vision, black lashes streaking across white, and oxygen raced to your skull as you gasped at the feel of a finger inside you.

“Can’t believe you’ve been wet all this time for me,” the man murmured into your ear, the ringing seeming to soften around his silk voice. “Turns out you were a slut after all.”

“Mm…” The sound came involuntary from your lips as his finger dragged against your velvety walls, curling against just the right bundle of nerves to send a warm tide of relief all the way up your body, your flesh buzzing and your eyes rolling back as the pain gave way to bliss.

“You’re liking this, aren’t you?” the stranger cooed, the cool trace of mint still on the hot breath that flushed your cheeks.

Your hips rolled forward as he wedged another finger inside, needy and pathetically desperate, but you didn’t care. You merely sought the friction of his hand, the release he granted you from the white-hot pain that was beginning to melt like butter into the background. You squirmed around him. His chuckle was warm, and encouraging; your jaw lolled open to uncage your heavy breath, and when he curled both fingers, your world erupted into tremors of euphoria and sweaty flashes of heat. Everything was fuzzy, your mind softening at its edges and your back arching as another jolt came racing through you. Your thighs clenched around him, and, by some cruel twist of fate, before you could tumble over the precipice of rapture, he withdrew his fingers and left you aching, empty, as you slumped over his shoulder, panties snapping back over your flesh.

With your lips parted against his neck, you could taste him, the creamy undertone of his aftershave and the spice of the cinnamon shampoo as his hair tickled your forehead. Even the scrape of the slightest trace of stubble along your nose was strangely comforting. The solidness of his chest, beneath your trembling form, keeping you from sinking to the cold ground.

“Wh-why did you stop?” you finally formed a coherent sentence, though your words came out in more of a whine than anything.

“Because…” The silk threads of his voice frayed as a growl reverberated through his chest, buzzing against your sternum, and sticky fingers, sweet with the scent of your juices, wrapped round your chin and forced your head back so you could look him in those blue, blue eyes. “… I had work to do, until you created a bit of a problem for me.”

Blinking hard, you tried to bring his features into focus, the sharp line of his cheekbones reminding you of the sharp slashes against a chalkboard. With his other hand, he took yours, your nails hooking along the metal buckle of his belt before brought to rest over the outline of his cock through his slacks. Instinctively, your fingers curled, as if seeking warmth, and you felt him twitch in your palm as his jaw clenched and his coldfire gaze devoured you, ice prickling at the back of your neck and molten lava seeping between your legs.

“This is the consequence of your actions…” He pressed your palm harder against the line of his cock, and your thighs shifted, aching for friction. Yearning to feel something more substantial inside you than his fingers. “Your fault… your problem… my slut… ” Now that you were awake enough to hold your own neck up, he released your chin to press his finger to your parted lips. You tasted yourself on him, but it does not repulse you; if anything, the addition to the delectable potion of sandalwood and cinnamon and mint only seems to spur your appetite, moistening your lips as saliva pooled on your tongue.

“Now you have to deal with this problem of yours.” His thumb stroked your cheek, his hips rutting gently into your hand. His lips flushed brighter after he caught them in his teeth, and your eyes traced the bow of them, mesmerised by the lurid colour in your world of black and white and navy.

“Now, I’d have liked to see you getting on your knees for me, would’ve liked to see these pretty lips around my cock, would’ve liked to see what that sharp tongue of yours could really do, but, I think it’s clear you’re a little too out of it for that, so…” He scrunched his face up in mock sympathy, and the slivers of ice in his eyes glinted like knives. “It looks like I’ll have to fuck you instead.”

I know you just want to be fucked, his voice seemed to echo in the empty chamber of your skull, and your brow furrowed despite your hips grinding feebly against the ceramic of the counter. Your heart thudded against your chest, seeming too quick for how slow everything else moved around you, and as he wedged his thumb past your lip, prodding at your teeth, your head flinched back and the blurry image of a clock materialised on the wall.

“Remember…” he said as your eyes focused on the object on the wall, wondering why it was so important to you. “… it didn’t have to be this way. If only you hadn’t resisted… if only you hadn’t been such a goddamn tease in the first place…”

Alarm shot like electricity up your arms, leaving goosebumps, but you couldn’t tell exactly where the hand of the clock was, or what it meant. Your head was still too fuzzy, your memory of how you even ended up here still just out of reach.

“Open your legs,” he ordered you.

“I have somewhere to be…” you mumbled. “Got something really impor –“

“No, you don’t,” he said, barbed wire weaving itself into the silk of his tone. A hand ran between the parting of your thighs, sending shivers along your flesh, causing your heart to pound faster in your core. His teeth grazed your neck as he growled in your ear, “Open. Your. Legs.”

Despite the soft moan he managed to pull from your diaphragm, you didn’t obey, and a huff of disgruntled breath stirred the wisps of hair from your neck as he forced your legs open with a sudden violence that got your heart hammering and your veins singing with fire. You attempted to slide off the counter, finding yourself unable to lift your own weight, and for one moment, you seemed to fall, with nothing beneath you but the harsh pull of gravity.

And then your face was nestled back in the crook of his neck, and those hands cradled your ass, and the hard line of his cock shifted the lips of your pussy apart ever-so-slightly.

“Shhh, it’s all right.” His tone smoothed into a hushed, gentle whisper, and the shift was so jarring that the clock and the urgency and the fuzzing memories of what had occurred before all faded away. “You don’t need to think about anything right now except me being inside you, about how good you’re gonna make me feel, babygirl.” He placed a kiss so soft to your shoulder that you couldn’t help but ease, his soothing voice lulling you into submission. “I’m gonna take care of everything… just so long as you let me do what I like to you… just so long as you know you’re mine… my good girl.” You could feel his lips pull into a smile against your flesh, a hint of darkness creeping into the melody of his tone. “You’re not going anywhere.”

All that existed now was him, and the distracting feel of his cock begging for entrance past your thin layers of clothing, and the heat that came in waves over your limbs as your heart beat too fast for your body. With your mind drawing blanks on your prior concerns and the scent and taste of him against your tongue so sweet, you found yourself giddy, a giggle chiming from your chest as you began to nip playfully at the soft flesh of his neck. Your hand came up to his throat, as if to have some kind of control over him as he did you in this moment, applying force as if to push him away, and beneath your palm was the rumblings of a warning growl.

“You’re not being a very good girl,” he remarked, and in another violent outburst, your spine was slammed against the corner of the counter, and pain shot from your tailbone all the way up to your skull, reminding you of the injury you’d sustained. Your gut churned again as his fingers dug into your sides, twisting you around until you caught a blurry glimpse of your reddened face in the mirror, mascara smeared across your cheek and your lips parted in a sinful gasp.

Bitter cold washed over your thighs as he pulled your skirt up, the sound of a buckle clanging through the slight ringing still in your ears. You barely had the time to process what was happening before feeling the sharp snap of your panties being torn from your thighs, the burn they left against your skin a welcome distraction from the pounding in your skull, and your thighs tucked together instinctively as cold nipped at the most sensitive part of you and his cock brushed teasingly against the line of your legs.

The stranger tutted in disproval and forced fingers between your thighs again, his other hand weaving itself through your hair and grinding your jaw against the cold ceramic of the counter. “No, no, sweetheart… don’t play those games with me,” he reminded you, and a hint of defiance coursed through you, ready to land on your tongue in the form of some venomous remark, when the words, breath and energy were ripped from your aching body and the desire that simmered beneath your surface was finally met.

Your scalp burned as he pulled you flush to his chest, sliding down on his cock, the thickness of him seeming to split you in two. Your eyes shuttered and you panted in exultation, knuckles chafing against the countertop as he began to fuck you, his own breath hissing against the sensitive groove of your neck as he adjusted to your tightness.

You whimpered from the bursts of euphoria that accompanied each thrust of his hips, some rolling over you like a heavy tide that left you trembling and weak, ready to unravel around him, others striking you quick as lightning and threatening to plunge you over your precipice. The hand that wasn’t gripping your hair so tight explored your body as if you were his property, slipping beneath your shirt and groping almost painfully at your breasts. The feel of his thumb brushing across a pert nipple made you arch your back, his cock pushing deeper inside you and causing your whole body to shudder.

“F-fuck – “ you hissed, your hand reaching around to grab at his hair, needing something to pull at, something to sink your nails into as pain blended with pleasure.

“That’s my good girl.” His hot breaths came panted against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin with each thrust. “That’s my good. Fucking. Girl.” Each word came out raspier, growled from the darkest recesses of his chest, and his hips bucked so violently into you, you remembered for a brief moment that he’d had the audacity to call you rabid.  

You could do nothing as he left himself sheathed inside you, warmth spilling along your inner thighs as he came, his teeth biting at your skin as your fingers tugged at his messed hair. Still grinding desperately against his length, you stirred a deep, resonating moan from him, and his breath shattered against your neck.

You hadn’t realised just how firm his weight had held you in place until he pulled away, gradually, his hands slipping from your hair and your stomach and twirling you in a daze back around to glimpse soft freckles and sharp cheekbones undulate in your vision. His cock, slicked with his your nectar, brushed your stomach, leaving residue that was warm at first and cruelly cold as he backed away.

“And now you have a mess to clean up,” he told you once he’d caught his breath, swiping a finger across the slit of your still-throbbing heat, gathering the unique elixir of sex and forcing it past your teeth. Your lips curled around his thick finger and you suckled, a moan catching in your throat at the sordid taste.

Roughing the same hand through your wild hair, he flashed a grin at you, and though your vision still swam, it couldn’t obscure the wicked glint in his eye. He looked you up and down, as your weak legs trembled beneath you and you shivered with the cold rush of your sweat and his cum on your thighs. You were sinking again, gravity slowly claiming you, your consciousness feeling as if it might slip into oblivion.

“Do you need me to take care of you, babygirl?” He almost taunted, though his words were woven soft as silk spools again. A hand grazed your thigh, and you shivered beneath his touch. “You need me to take care of you, don’t you, because you can barely stand after getting fucked so hard.”

You could only whimper in agreement as you sank to the floor, thighs still burning from chafing against the counter and darkness teasing the edges of your vision. He wasn’t there to catch you this time, instead busy buckling up his belt. “Fine, fine… I’ll take care of you, just as soon as I finish your job for you…”

Something heavy settled in your gut, and you blinked away the darkness, panic rising in your throat as you curled against the tile flooring. Looking up at him, you watched as he straightened his shirt, groomed his hair back to its meticulously tailored façade, felt spite tinge your tongue like bile as you watched the hand of the clock tick by a fraction.

“So incompetent…” he muttered, his gaze torn between you and his reflection now, trying desperately to smooth out his hair, to brush out the last wrinkles from his suit jacket. “It’s fine. I think I have a new assignment for you, anyway.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, pain exploding behind your temples. “You wha… you… “

Swallowing against a dry throat, keeping yourself upright by the sheer force of your quivering arm and white knuckles against the tile, you watched as he made his way to the farthest stall. The panic wove itself round your lungs, stealing your breath and blackening your mind’s edges again. You flinched as you heard him rifle around in the toilet paper dispenser, the sound familiar to you – you’d done such a thing not even an hour or so prior – until he emerged with the reason why. The black metal of your Ruger was small yet menacing in his hand as he checked the magazine, and pain exploded in your skull as fragments of your mission came screaming back to you, the preparation you’d put into this particular assignment because you knew you were being tested by the higher-ups…

“Seriously, Y/N? You thought you’d be able to hide this up that short skirt?” He shook his head, tutting again as you wondered how he knew your name. Cocking the action caused you to flinch one more time, and asked, voice wavering,

“Who are you?”

“The name’s Rippner. Jackson Rippner.”

Your hand slipped from the tile, and came to your mouth in a silent gasp, the blackness overtaking you as you realised that not only had you failed your mission, but you’d just been fucked by your boss.

The world seemed to narrow and close like the end of an old film, until all you could make out was the silhouette of his cocked head, the flash of white teeth as his lips curled into a smile so dreadful that it would forever etch itself into your memory.

And that was all.

A.N. Please let me know if you would like a Part 2! Now excuse me while I go hide I've stayed up all night and am posting this on half-dead 7 am brain before I can regret it

PART II HERE

MASTERLIST • REQUEST

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[cillianhead]

Your Dog || Jackson Rippner x Reader

smutty blurb enjoy <3

warnings: SMUT, Oral Sex (m receiving), Facefucking, Semi-Pet Play but like not fully???, Leashes/collars, slapping, degradation, Jackson is mean in this (when isn't he though), pet names, use of the title 'Master', ADULT CONTENT!!! 18+ MINORS DNI!!!

smut under the cut <3

"Good puppy... that's it... good fuckin' puppy..." Jackson groaned, tugging on your leash even harder as he fucked your throat. Drool ran out from your parted lips, which were painfully stretched around his thick cock. He was fucking your face relentlessly with no consideration for if you could breathe or not. The back of your throat was sore and your jaw ached but you tried your best to take it. Just like the drool and bile that came up your throat, tears were wetting your face as they streamed endlessly from your eyes.

"Oh... don't look at me like that, puppy... I know you like being used like this." He had a triumphant grin on his face, smug with pleasure and power. "Your tears only make me even more hard."

You couldn't respond. How could you with his dick shoved down your throat? His hips stuttered and with each buck of his pelvis, his balls slapped your chin. Frankly, it was embarrassing. Your eyes fluttered shut at the stinging in your eyes but were quickly met with the palm of his hand hitting your face. "Keep your eyes open bitch," Jackson hissed, slapping you with the back of his hand again as your eyes shoot open. He smirked, pleased as he bucked his hips into your mouth again. "Want you to look me in the eyes when I cum down your throat."

You could tell he was going to cum soon by the way his stomach tightened and his chest heaved, continuing to rock in and out of your mouth.

"Fuck... fuuuckk...." Jackson's voice was whiny, sounding like a real porn star as he bounced your head in between his spread legs. Slut. "Gonna cum... gonna fuckin' cum... take it for me... please puppy... please... oh fuck..." His dominant grasp on the world was quickly slipping from his fingertips as his cock twitched and his back arched. Cum shot down your throat and leaked from your lips. Choking on the thick substance and the lack of air. Jackson was pathetic when he came, so utterly pathetic. He whined like a bitch.

You coughed as he finally let go of the back of your head but kept a tight hold of your leash, tugging on it to remind you of your place.

"Swallow it," Jackson huffed, slumping back into his seat. His thighs were still spread open like the whore he was, cum dribbling down his cock and stickying his thighs and in between. You swallow, though residues of it are still dripping from your tongue and lips, like hot wax on a burning candle. "Good girl," He cooed, thumb swiping at your lips before prodding itself into your mouth. Jackson watched, a satisfied hum rumbling from his rising chest, as you sucked it clean. "Think you can lick me clean? Like a little kitty cat? Go on... use that tongue of yours... lick it clean, bitch."

"I..." You bit your lip, eyes still watery as you lean forward. There was no point in denying him. So timidly you kitten-licked his cock, face flushed scarlet as if you were a prude, as if you hadn't done this a million times before... though this was the first time with a collar and a leash around your throat.

"What? Don't like the taste?" He asked with a scoff, fingers scratching at his stubbly chin, his thighs shaking softly. "C'mon... put your back into it, I work so hard day and night for you and when I come home... this is what you give me? Can't even keep your master pleased, can you? You're a bad dog..." He growled, voice low and warning. And you bowed your head in shame at the words he spoke.

"Y-Yes master..." You swallowed, poking your tongue out and licking along his thighs, sucking up the last droplets of his jizz.

He snickered, clearly amused as he twisted the rope of your leash around his pointer and pulled your face into his taint. "You missed a spot," Jackson mused, chuckling to himself. "Go on, dirty mut... do your job." This was so humiliating. You squeezed your eyes shut, black spots dancing underneath your eyelids as you breathed in the smell and licked a stripe up from his taint to his balls, popping one into your mouth to keep him happy.

"Oh, pup..." Jackson pulled on your leash, collar digging into your neck and cutting off your air supply as you sucked. "Thatta girl... that's right... you know your fuckin' place."

He pulled you off of him, kicking you down onto your haunches. He stood up, albeit a little shakily, and smiled down at you- a proud gleam in those sea-stricken eyes.

"Now, does my little puppy want a treat?" He asked, tone condescendingly sweet. "Say 'please master'."

"Please... Master...."

Another pull on your leash, reminding you that you'd be nothing more than his pet for the night.

-

SORRY, THIS WAS SO SHORT!!! I hope you enjoyed <333 I love you all....

[saintmuses]

❝𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙬𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙮, 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙜𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙨❞

Pairing:

Jackson Rippner x Reader

Summary:

She had thought about calling him pathetic, but something shifted inside of her mind, and the word dissolved from her tongue. A little butterfly effect that changed their ending.

Warning(s): SMUT. Slightly dub-con at first. Teeth markings. Praise kink. Fingering. P in V. Enemies to lovers. Slight possessive!Jackson. Minors, dni! Note: this was inspired by the scene where Jackson held Lisa against the wall before throwing her down the stairs. Plus I have a thing for Jackson’s biting kink 🌝.

Word Count: 1.8k

Jackson was behind her, too close, and he pressed her up against the wall in the hallway with both of his hands, both on the wall. Her face turned to the side against the white painted wall, and she could feel his chest rising and falling against her back.

"I don’t want you to touch me." Y/N hissed, exhaling against the cool wall.

She had hoped she would wake up from her nightmares when the sweet person she had met in the line turned into a blackmailing psychotic man who only crossed paths with her for an assignment that she knew he’d failed.

It was real.

"I'm afraid, sweetheart, I don't believe you," he murmured, his voice steady and calm before running his nose along her hair, and she felt an involuntary shiver roll up her spine at the deep tone in his voice.

"Why can’t you leave me alone since I did what you forced me to do?" she questioned vehemently with a little lie slipping through her lips since she had called Cynthia to get Senator Keefe out prior arriving to her house.

Glaring down the hallway as she felt him exhaling a soft chuckle into her hair. He then moved her hair to the side, nuzzling at the curve of her neck.

"Because it is my job to ensure the mission is completed, then I can leave you alone. The question is should I really leave you alone?" He asked huskily as he reached around to her front, and she could feel his fingers gripping her abdomen. She couldn't do anything but to let him guide her back into his body.

She attempted to pull away from him, pressing her fingers against her wall.

Without thinking of any consequences, she leaned forward enough to raise her lips to expose her teeth, and his sleeve were pushed back along with the blazer as he had laid it against the wall when she sunk her teeth into his forearm that was resting against the wall.

He made a noise almost like a grunt, and she could feel him exhaling harshly against the back of her neck. "You like to play dirty, don't you?" He chuckled; the sound rumbled in his chest which vibrated on her skin. "My girl," he said affectionately. "Don't you realize I fight dirty too." He hissed; a hint of dark promise crept into his voice.

She dug her teeth into his arm a little more, tightening her jaw when his hand slowly grazed her skin between her thighs. She was wearing black skirt which granted him easy access, but he had other ideas, he reached down with his unoccupied hand as it grazed the curve of her ass and gripped the elastic fabric around her waist to draw the material away from her body. She gasped when she felt the article of clothing sliding down her legs, leaving her in panties.

"So, you don’t want me?" Slowly, very gently, his hand rose further up into the juncture of her thighs and began to stroke her folds through the thin fabric that had her tightening her jaw even more. "Fucking you with my fingers?" A ragged sound made its way to her ear as he exhaled roughly. "Christ, Y/N. I could never get enough of you."

She felt like she could agree, nearly echoing the sentiment. Her knees shook when his fingers stroke over her skin, igniting a slow burning warmth that washed over her, and she leaned further into the wall.

She swallowed hard, biting down on his arm a little more firmly even as he stroked her, his fingers insistent against her folds, and she tasted slight rustic blood touching her tongue. She realized she had split his skin, and she felt somewhat smug because he inflicted the same to her before when he bashed his head against hers to knock her out in the airplane.

It was only fair.

She could feel a slight rumble against her back as he chuckled, "my girl." He appraised her.

His touch slipped in the panties, to finger further between her folds, finding moisture and spreading it almost lazily. He was breathing deeply in her ear, and she swore she could feel his heart hammering against her back. She was breathing heavily, too, her nostrils flaring as her mouth clamped tightly around the muscle of his arm.

Something between them had changed, which had him pressing her harder into the wall, and his hand wasn't gentle anymore, but she didn't care. Her body craved his touch, craved the heat and the coiling tightness in her belly, the way her knees were shaking and every nerve ending in her body seemed to shut down when his fingers flickered over her clit making her back arched into his chest.

She gasped, releasing the muscle of his arm to see the imprints of her teeth on his skin, reddening slightly. His arm disappeared from her vision, and she jumped slightly when she felt his fingers gripping the sides of her hips. 

She then flinched when she felt a sting around her thighs and hips, realizing he had ripped the fabric off her body.

He then pulled her hips backwards, allowing her to feel his hardened cock in the confines of his dress pants, and she shivered in anticipation.

She could hear the metal grating against metal, and she realized he was undoing his zipper. She shivered as her breathing came into tiny huffs of air to slow down her heart. 

He then shifted, moving her legs apart slightly with his. She felt his thick cock nudging between her thighs, and she could feel him breathing heavily at the sensation her increasingly wetness provided.

"Jackson," she whispered, not at all sure whether she was telling him to stop or begging to continue.

"Say my name again, Y/N." He growled against her neck; a low moan of his name torn from her lungs as the pleasure rippled throughout her body when he thrusted into her.

"Good girl," he said softly before pulling back slightly, his voice slithered across her skin, close to her ear. Something inside her quivered, though she tried to ignore the sensation.

She gasped against the wood when he thrusted back into her gently. His thick cock stretching her that she knew she wouldn't be able to find anyone to compare to.

She pushed her head into the plaster slightly when he shifted his angle, and she could feel his cock brushing against the cervix that had her gasping more in pleasure and a twinge with pain.

He then pushed her off of his cock, and she immediately protested due to the loss of being filled. 

He turned her around and lifted her up by her waist before carrying her over to the bedroom nearby. Luckily, it was a bedroom assigned for guests.

He dumped her unceremoniously on the bed, making the bed springs squeaking slightly. He removed his blazer, throwing it somewhere in the room before unbuttoning his dress shirt. Once that ended up on the floor as well, he reached behind his head to grab the fabric of his shirt to pull it off, and he allowed his dress pants to fall to the floor before kicking them to the side after removing his shoes. She looked at him, analyzing his body before he got on top of her, his knees were on both sides of her hips, and he leaned back on her thighs.

He reached for the hem of her dress shirt, pulling upward to reveal her white laced bra cupping her breasts, and he sat on her thighs once again after she was free from the confines of her shirt. He then slid his palms up her bare sides of her abdomen before reaching for her bra.

She released a shaky breath as she arched into his touch as he pushed her bra up and over her breasts, his hands cupped her breasts, gripping them in a possessive grasp. "Mine." He rasped before leaning down to capture a nipple in his mouth.

Arching her back after feeling his tongue swirling around her nipple, and she inhaled sharply when he sucked the skin into his mouth long enough to form a discolored spot. The torture was delicious, slow but deliberate when he continued to mark her skin with discolored spots.

A trace of a smirk hovered at the corners of his lips as he moved away from her thighs to the side of her leg after withdrawing his mouth from the swell of her breasts.

He pushed her legs upward until it was enough for him to nestle between her thighs, draping her thighs on top of his as he sat back on his knees. She gasped lightly when his fingers tangled in her strands, gripping it slightly with curled fingers, tilting her head forward by his urge, putting her elbows on the mattress, then she moved slightly, and she could see his cock pulsing slightly. 

She felt the heat of tendrils curling at the base of her spine, curling all around her as she bit down on her lips when he gripped the base of his cock with a curl of his fist. 

She could see him staring at her with a heavy amount of lust in his depths. "You're so beautiful," he shuddered before moving forward.

She inhaled sharply when he pushed his cock against her clit, the feeling burned her from the inside out. Before she could exhale, the air caught in her throat when he leaned down to smash his lips on hers with intensified raw passion. His grip in her hair tightened when he thrusted forward, and she released a loud gasp that edged on a moan when she felt him filling her up in every way.

Her neck arched when he pulled her head back after releasing her lips as he trailed his lips down to her jaw, revealing her neck to his hungry gaze. "God, I'm never going to let you go." He groaned slightly as her walls clenched around his thick cock. She shuddered when he withdrew from her momentarily before shoving his cock back into her with a brutal strength.

No one was able to make her feel like this. 

So hot, and dangerous. 

She cried out in pleasure and pain when she felt his teeth making its way in the spot of her neck, and she gripped his back with her fingers, digging in slightly when he tightened his jaw as he thrusted back into her.

His thrusts were so powerful that she knew she'd be sore for days and nights. 

She slid her fingers down his slightly damp skin of his spine, slowing down as she reached for his ass to pull him deeper into her.

She could not get enough. 

"Why me?" She gasped when he withdrew from her neck, she could see a little speck of blood -her blood- brimming around his lips before he leaned down to kiss her.

He exhaled into her mouth, sharing air with her as he slammed his hips into her. 

"Because you're mine."

[pinguwrites]

Kinktober 2023 | Day Fourteen — Jackson Rippner + CNC, roleplay

Pairing -> dom!jackson rippner x sub!reader

Warnings -> DARK!!!!, don't read if you're not comfortable, smut (minors dni), p in v sex, marriage, stalking

KINKTOBER 2023 MLIST

A/N: Sorry I didn't get this out on time, I was too tired to write it yesterday.

Disclaimer: Red Eye characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

You cried out, fingers wrapping around the fence bars as the stranger plunged his cock into your pussy, his thrusts mad and wild like a dog. Just a few moments ago you had been watering the flowers in your backyard, when a man snuck up behind you, placed his hand over your mouth, lifted your dress, and started fucking you like you were a doll ready to be used.

You tried to struggle out of his grasp, but it was far too tight for any movement to make much of a difference. You could still hear the man’s panting in your ear, and you could still feel his body push up against yours. Tears started to pour out of your eyes as the reality of the situation dawned on you — you were being raped. Someone was raping you.

“Please,” you whimpered, voice muffled, attempting to raise your voice (and failing) above the sound of the skin slaps. “P-please, stop.”

“Why?” the man grunted. “This feels so nice. I know you like it, too.” His fingers swept through your folds. “Why else would you be wet?”

It’s not my fault, you wanted to say. It’s not my fault . . . But no words came out of your mouth. Instead you let yourself lay at the mercy of this man, this man you didn’t even know.

As pain and pleasure shot through your body like rolling waves on the sea, you tried to scream, but of course, barely anything could be heard. The man chuckled, and then spat in your ear. “No one can hear you. But if you are going to put that mouth to use, it better be with my name in it. Jackson,” he said. “I want you to moan ‘Jackson’.”

“J-Jackson, please.”

“There ya go.” You couldn’t see his face but you could tell he was smiling. “Now you’re getting it. If I remove my hand, you won’t scream, will you?”

You didn’t say anything. He sighed.

“So you will. It’s okay, you’ll learn to get used to this. Next time,” he continued in between huffs. “I’ll choose your bed, or maybe that alleyway you walk through between third and sixth. That’s a good a spot.”

You narrowed your eyes in confusion. How did he know . . . ?

But there was no time to think about it. The man called Jackson came inside you, filing you up with his seed. He pulled out, and his white juices dripped down your leg. You both just stood there for a moment, before he turned you around and planted a soft kiss on your lips. 

“Was this good?” Jackson asked, tracing the line where your ring was supposed to be. “I didn’t hurt you much, did I?”

You chuckled, waving off your sweet husband’s concerns. “I liked it. I didn’t know you could be so forceful.”

You rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, his warmth coating your body.

“Yeah, well, in the heat of the moment, I guess.”

“Hey, how did you know about the alleyway?” you asked. “The one I walk to the coffee shop through?”

Jackson smiled. “I thought I should make it more realistic. Play the part of the stalker, you know?”

You nodded, but the thought was still in your head, even as you walked back into the house to clean up. You and him had only just discussed your CNC fantasies, maybe just two days ago, and since then, you hadn’t taken that shortcut between third and sixth street. Sure, it was a regular route you used, but not in the recent days. How long had he been planning this?

You shook the idea that Jackson was actually a stalker away, but maybe, just maybe, Jackson wasn’t as innocent as you had assumed, and that this was only the first taste of his truth. 

Taglist:

@rainyforest777

@thatwitchybitch420

@madeinuk

@gentyleman

@henrywintersdearestgirl

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Kitten

Summary: After Jackson kidnapped you, you look back to how it all started, and reflect on how much he has broken you. Understanding that your life was now solely reliant on him, and maybe he did love you in his own sick way.

Warnings: Noncon, stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, p in v, the butt sex, loss of virginity, spitting, abuse, flashbacks, hair pulling, name calling, thigh riding, cigarette smoking

Thirty days.

It had been thirty days since you were taken by the charming blue eyed man out of your own apartment, your own home where you seeked solace but all you received was madness.

Now here you sat, still chained to the headboard while Jackson sat across from the bed on a old chair, cigarette lit between his lips.

The smoke danced around the dim lit room in a haunting silhouette as he stared at you. He knew his gaze intimidated you, and would take enjoyment when you’d crumble at the knees to please him out of fear.

The memories still haunted you, the fact that he had watched you for so long, has been in the same vicinity, passing you by so many times going unnoticed. 

You’d become reliant on him, a month without anyone stuck in a room with Jackson made you understand you had no one, nowhere to go. He was your soul dependance for your life to continue and you weren’t ready to die yet, even stuck here with him. You’d grown to like him, but you hated it, hated him for making you feel so little, and just a small fragment of this tiny earth.

Placing the cigarette in the ashtray, diminishing what was left of the flame. He slowly crawled on to the bed toward you, his palms imprinting the stained white sheets. 

“I’m not going to hurt you. I wanted to see how you’ve been adjusting to your new life.”

His fingers grazed over your tear stained cheek ever so gently, causing you to lean in toward his touch.

It had been so long since you were touched by anyone, and a part of you couldn’t help to think that maybe this was his sick, twisted way to show love.

He raised his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for an answer. 

Your voice was hoarse, but you spoke with sincerity in your eyes.

“Jackson, I-I feel lonely, when you leave and I worry you won’t come back for me.” 

“Oh baby.” His thumb wiped at the singular tear that escaped your eye. He genuinely seemed concerned about you for once.

“If I take these off, are you going to run away or are you going to be a good girl for me?” You nodded and he eyed you skeptically, but he can tell you were pleading for him, you needed him right now even if you didn’t want to, just like how he had planned.

Unlocking the cuffs, he was surprised when you clung to him instantly, wrapping your arms around his warm neck, burying your head in his masculine shoulder as you began to cry.

He had conditioned you this way, purposely leaving you locked in a room, completely alone, not returning for hours on end, sometimes days when you’d try to escape or fight back with no food, no heat, no water.

He would reward you with all of these things if you would just behave, and give in to him, come to the understanding that he played fairly as long as you obeyed him. 

Feeling your innocent tears against his skin made his cock twitch in his pants, going unnoticed by you as your feelings overwhelmed you.

Pulling you away, his head tilted slightly, and you were hesitant before you found yourself staring at his plush lips that looked so inviting.

Not being able to be patient he pulled you in, your lips crashing against his in a heated kiss, his tongue inching deeper and deeper into your mouth.

Pushing you down, he pulled down your underwear with one hand while removing his with the other.

The sight of you splayed out beneath him, caused his cock to twitch once more, the desire running through him in a craze.

“Jackson, please. I-I need you.” Were the words you mumbled lowly, not wanting to admit your emotions running through your veins. 

Your head slipped into a dark headspace as the touch of his hardened member aligned with your wet tight hole.

You didn’t know what to think or why you were feeling this way, it made you feel disgusted with yourself to know that this is what he’s been able to break you down to.

“You’re learning to be such a good little whore for me. Doesn’t it feel nice not to fight me anymore?” 

You nodded and tears filled your eyes as he plunged his length into you, taking the air out of your lungs.

An involuntary moan escaped from your lips, your mouth gaping open from the pleasure of feeling so full.

“Oh fuck, forgot how fucking tight you are. It’s been awhile, hasn’t it princess?” He began to fuck into you rapidly, while your mind was haunted with your first night of being held captive by him.

You remembered his face that night, how vile he was to you, the memories rushed back into your mind as you held him tight, squeezing your eyes shut over his shoulders as your tears built up, causing what felt like a pond on his shoulder.

~

It all happened so fast, you had just finished showering before you set off to your parents funeral.

When you opened the curtain you were shoved harshly back into the the hard shower wall, being faced with devilish blue eyes, your captors hand covering your mouth to stop your screams from being heard.

“Yes, yes I understand you think you may not know me, but for a quick introduction I’m the man the killed your father and you, sweetheart are my prize. I’ve known you for quite a while now.” You tried to push against the man while horror filled within you, realizing the amount of danger you’re in. Your efforts were laid to rest when his hand gripped your throat tightly, his other hand cupping your chin, forcing you at a stand still.

“Don’t fight, listen very carefully. You my dear, are going to come with me, put on a show like we’re a loving couple or we can do this the more difficult way, you choose.” 

Tears streamed down your heated cheeks, causing Jackson to smile at how quickly you were frightened of him. “Let- let me go. Please, please I’ll give you any-anything you want.” He laughed at you menacingly before head butting you against the wall, knocking you out almost instantly.

He brushed the strands of hair out of your beautiful face, taking in your delicate features that he’d soon devour. “I’m sure you will sweetheart, I’m sure you will.”

When you awoke, your head was spinning and you found that your wrists were immobile as they were duct taped together, your ankles tied to two wooden posts in a dark room.

“Is my kitten awake now ready to play?” His voice was dark but it seemed close as if he was behind you sending shivers up your spine.

The lights flashed on and he stood there, cock in his hand as he took the display of you splayed out on an old wooden desk in the room, spread eagle just for him.

Your cries were muffled by the duct tape placed securely over your lips.

Jackson walked toward you, now standing between your thighs. He sent a sharp slap across your cheek, making your head hit the wall behind you.

“I told you not to put up a fight didn’t I? Just like your father aren’t you. Think you’re unstoppable.” You tried to look away from him, anywhere but him.

Yanking your hair, he forced you to look up into his piercing blue eyes.

He spat on your face making you flinch, and your eyebrows furrowed together in disgust.

“I’m going to break you in ways you never thought possible.” He aligned himself with your hole, causing you to scream. Kicking and trying to fight, the bindings of the rope came loose just as he was about to enter.

In a dizzy state, you attempted running to the door even though you were nude but it didn’t matter Jackson was faster, grabbing the back of your head, forcing you back, causing you to fall on the floor. “I told you to play nice, that wasn’t very nice Y/N.” Positioning himself on top of you, he sent a sharp blow to your face once more, spitting in your eye and before you had time to think he plunged his full length into you, no spit or anything.

Your insides felt as if something sharp was tearing your skin open at the seams, mutilating your raw flesh.

All movement in you stilled as you were starting to focus on the pain.

“Atta girl.” He pushed your thighs apart, spreading your trembling lips by your core, spitting and slapping the sensitive skin harshly until it turned as red as an apple, forcing tears out of your eyes. The sight of your watering, beading eyes brought a tremendous amount of pleasure to his sickening mind.

His pace sped up and his balls slapped against your  inner thighs near the crevice of your ass. 

The size of of him, stretched your hole wider than you thought was ever possible, and you cried, and cried.

The sight of blood trickling out of you caught Jackson’s attention, causing a wide grin to spread across his face. “First time is it?” 

He couldn’t go on any longer without hearing your sweet screams and moans. 

Ripping the duct tape off the first thing that released from your in between your lips was an exasperated moan that you didn’t expect as Jackson continued to rail into you relentlessly.

Bending down he, connected his lips with yours, when you didn’t reciprocate the smack he sent to your, reddening cheeks was undeniably harsh and held power as it blew your hearing out out on what side of your head.

“C’mon now Y/N, don’t be a prude.” You spat at him, making him laugh and wipe the spit of off his face.

What he did next was unbearable. “You like it rough do you? Let’s see how much my kitten can handle.” Flipping you over, pressing your face into the sheets, he spread your cheeks with his other hand, seeing the hole of glory that he knew to be much tighter than the other.

Your eyes went wide when you felt the head of him pushing into the area that was off limits for you.

Key word for you, not him.

Trying your best, your fists curled at the sheets, trying to grasp for the head board, in a fast motion he grabbed your hips and slammed you down onto his entire length, making you scream out in pain, causing your body to collapse against the bed.

Fire ripped through your once innocent cavity, the devil inside him came out as he watched his hardened member stretch your dry skin.

Forcing your body up and down his erect, rather large member, you layed there losing all sanity in you as he took complete control over you.

The intense feeling of your walls suffocating his every pressure point had him groaning, his cock twitched in your battered body. 

“God you’re a good fuck y’know that? Might just have to keep you here forever. All to myself.” 

He pulled your weak, immobile body up against his chest, his cock still buried deep in your ass, forcing a desperate whimper to escape your lips.

“Saved a seat just for you. Ride me.” When you didn’t move, he grabbed your nipple forcefully twisting the tender skin, his hand once again smacking at your most private part.

“Did I stutter? Let me see you move that ass.”

Unwillingly, you moved up slowly, then down again, feeling humiliated and used. The size of him was overwhelming but once you were riding him the pain began to transform to pleasure, your body moving a little too fast for your liking.

His fingers slid up and down between your soaked lips, causing him to smile.

“You like this don’t you? Look at how wet you are? Oh I get it, you like being taken control of, being degraded to nothing but an object?” Your movements sped up, grinding down on him feeling your orgasm come closer than ever. 

Jackson enjoyed the look of you, your wrists bonded by duct tape, completely at his mercy, the tears streaming down your cheek.

His hands clutched your breasts roughly, and his thighs began to twitch as he his orgasm drove threw him. His warm seed spilled deep into your ass, filling you completely. He wanted you weak, he wanted you to feel violated in every way and you did. He could tell that you were close to the edge as well, that’s when he pushed you off of him, denying your high.

“You wanna get off, you’re going to do so, on my terms. You have to earn it yourself.” The nerve he had you thought to yourself. Thinking maybe if you just followed his orders he’d dispose of you, allow you to be free, maybe he wouldn’t kill you.

“Get off on my thigh like a good little bitch.” There was absolutely no way you were going to ride him like a dog in heat with nothing inside you. When you hesitated he pulled you up by your quivering thighs, landing you on his hairy, thick thighs. 

Your pussy felt like a water slide against his skin, when you tried to bury your face in the crook of his neck he pushed you back.

“Ah, ah. I wanna see that pretty, dumb face break.” He held you in place by your chin, hitting you with the other again when you didn’t move.

“What did I say?” Whimpering, you slid up and down his thigh, his seed still leaking out of your ass adding to the wetness. You felt disgusted, but your aching core was telling you more. Your brushed against him slowly at first, reveling in the small points of pleasure until you sped up.

Grinding up and down, your hips move swiftly and ferociously with every movement, never breaking eye contact with him. You hated him. You hated how amazing he was making you feel, how much your body ache to get off because of him.

He watched you with a twisted smirk, biting his lip, as your back began to arch, your clit rubbing against his skin over and over again in just the right way.

You felt yourself crumbling, crashing as your whole body began to twitch and you involuntarily moaned his name, your liquids spilling out of your dripping hole while you reached your orgasm.

As soon as you were done, he pushed you to the side of the bed, getting up and pulling on his pants and shirt while you layed there quivering a broken mess.

Finally it was over.

“Thanks for the quickie.” He winked at you, slapping your cheek lighter than usual before standing up and pulling your weak body up onto the bed, holding you delicately in his arms.

“Now I have to get going, you’re going to stay here, and be a good girl. I’ll be back later.” 

No, no he just wanted sex, he was supposed to let you go.

“What- no! No, I gave you what you wanted now let me-“ He backhanded your cheek and shoved you back down onto the bed.

You heard a rustling that sounded like it was next to you.

The next sensation you felt was the cold, uncomfortable metal place around your wrists behind the headboard.

The fighting and trying to escape went on for weeks until you realized he did always come back for you, he did take care of you when you cooperated and you found it best to give in.

~

Your eyes slid open slowly, your nails were dug into his shoulder blades while he pumped in and out of you, just finishing up.

He collapsed onto you, his seed spilling in you once more since the first time, but this time in the hole that could potentially get you pregnant.

This was absolutely no condition to raise a child but out of fear, you didn’t say anything.

A part of you believed that if you went along with his plan, just stayed obedient he would take care of you and possibly a child.

He had shown you multiple times he loves you when you behave, and you were beginning to believe that.

He stood up from the bed, grabbing his clothes as he always did except this time he didn’t put cuffs on you as he wanted to test if you were truly his girl now.

“There’s food in the cabinet, and the heat is on, if you’d like to shower you can. Don’t leave this room, don’t unlock the door, you know the drill by now, right sweetheart?” You nodded up at him but anxiety still filled you that something would happen to him or he’s forget about you.

Crawling over to him on your hands and knees, like he had trained you, you pulled at his pant leg, worry filling your eyes.

“Promise you’re coming back?” He stopped at the door, smiling at his saddened kitten whom was so reliant and dependent on his entire being. You were learning.

“I’ll always come back for you my precious kitten.” 

[ya-secret-diary]

Characters I'm willing to play:

Cillian Murphy's world

Cillian Murphy (any era)

Jackson Rippner

Jonathan Crane

Emmett

Thomas Shelby

Raymond Leon

Darren (Pig)

Robert Fischer

Neil Lewis

Patricia 'Kitten' Braden

Shivering Soldier

Davin McDerby

William Killick

Jonathan Breech

Mike Kiernan

Agent Buchanan

Emma Skillpa

John Skillpa

Damien

J. Robert Oppenheimer

Lenny Miller

[starwoed]

some Jonathan crane x fem!yn doodles for you all ..

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

CILLIAN MURPHY MASTERLIST

— ♡ = fluff, ✦ = smut, ✩ = dark, ° = angst —

— ❀ = reader, 𑁍 = original character —

requests open/closed

Cillian Murphy

No More Teasing ✦ ✩ ❀

And The Oscar Goes To ... ° ♡ ❀

Like A Good Girl ✦ ✩ ❀

Tommy Shelby - Peaky Blinders

Drabble - Tommy has you tied to the bed ✦ ✩ ❀

Runaway From Me ✦ ✩° 𑁍

Jackson Rippner - Red Eye

Miss Me ? ✦ ✩ ❀

So Much For A Break Up ✦ ✩ ❀

Change of Plans ✦ ✩ ❀

Breaking the Loop ✦ ✩ ❀

Baby Girl ✦ ✩ ❀

Jonathan Crane - The Dark Knight Trilogy

All is Fair in Love and War, Part 2 ✦ ✩° ❀

Back to the Nightmares ✦ ✩ ❀

Emmett - A Quiet Place Part 2

Saviour ✦ ✩ ❀

Raymond Leon - In Time

My Time Is Pointless ✦ ✩° ❀

Drabble - You make a bet with Raymond Leon ✦ ✩ ❀

Shivering Solider - Dunkirk

Female Company ✦ ✩ ❀

Jonathan Breech - On The Edge

coming soon

Lenny Miller - Anna

"Maybe we could have dinner" ✦ ✩ ❀

Graduation Gift ✦ ✩ ❀

NSFW Head-Canons

Raymond Leon ✦ ❀

[deceitfuldevout]

Deceitfuldevout's Cillian Murphy Masterlist:

❤️ = Fluff

🔞 = Spicy/Nsfw

🖤 = Dark

❌ = No warnings/Sfw

One-Shots:

Highest Bidder - Dark!Robert Fishcher x Sugarbaby!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/728906757005606912/highest-bidder?source=share

Naughty Little Thief - Dark!Jackson Rippner x Theif!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/729562829842186240/naughty-little-thief?source=share

Happy Purge - Purge AU: Soft!Dark!Mike Kiernan x Student!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/730288962181136384/happy-purge?source=share

Scream - Ghostface!Neil Lewis x Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/730746273137819648/scream?source=share

Struggle - Soft!Dark!Neil Lewis x BestFriend!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/732171656283471872/struggle?source=share

Blessed Be The Fruit - Soft!Dark!Sergeant!Tommy Shelby x Maiden!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/735516775906705408/blessed-be-the-fruit?source=share

First and Last - Dark!Tom (The Party 2017) x ExWife!Reader: https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/737440069578866688/first-and-last?source=share🔞🖤

Series:

Hidden Treasure - Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Tommy Shelby x Wife!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/707809508943151104/hidden-treasure-masterlist?source=share

[floralcyanide]

𝐂𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝑠𝑦𝑚𝑏𝑜𝑙 𝑘𝑒𝑦: 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡 ✺ 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓 ✿ 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡 ☁ 𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤 ☼

𝖼𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗇!𝗈𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗋

- 𝗂'𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 ☁

- 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖼 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾 ☁

- 𝗂 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾 ✺☼

𝖼𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗇 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗉𝗁𝗒

- 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 ✺☼

- 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 ☁

- 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌, 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌, 𝖺𝗉𝗈𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗒𝗉𝗌𝖾 ✺☼

- 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖻 𝖨 ✺☼

- 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖻 𝖨𝖨 ☁

- 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖨 ☼

𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘭 𝘭𝘦𝘸𝘪𝘴

- 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖻 𝖨 ☼

- 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾 ✺☼

- 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖨 ✿

𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘯

𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯

𝗃𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖾

- 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋 ✺☼

- 𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗐 𝖺𝗅𝗉𝗁𝖺𝖻𝖾𝗍 ✺☼

- 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖻 𝖨 ☼

- 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗎𝖻𝗅𝖾 ✺☼

- 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖨 ✺☼

- 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖨𝖨 ✺☼

𝗃𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗇𝖾𝗋

- 𝟥𝟢,𝟢𝟢𝟢 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗍 ✺☼

- 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖨 ✺☼

[your-nanas-house]

Y/n and Jackson ripner join the mile high club

Yes yes yes yes yesss. First time writing of Jackson, hope you will like it.

The Mile High Club

◇ Pairing: Jackson Rippner X fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, Jackson, easy collaboration, shitty writing and cheating

◇ Summary: Jackson finds himself as a hostess in a private jet, his target? A young woman who is about to get married but her fiancé isn't there.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

There she was, standing in that rich pretty dress of hers, waiting for the crew to set the stairs so that she could enter the private jet.

A jet where Jackson Rippner managed to be in as a part of the hostess there, ready to find the perfect time to work on his plan— which was part of a job he got.

There was just a problem, he was expecting a couple, Mr Gray, and his soon to be wife but there was only the woman there.

That wasn't a big issue though, he could easily manipulate her naive and spoiled self— he just needed to find a moment alone with her.

It took him a while since the other hostess kept moving around her like flying hawks ready to take care of her wishes and mind her business, wanting to know all the juicy details of why she was there all one.

Jackson found it extremely annoying and was kind of amused when he noticed that Y/n herself was finding it bothering but was too polite to say anything— reason because it took her nearly thirty minutes to finally manage to enter the red door down the jet, turning the tag 'don't disturb' to finally have some peace.

It was finally time, Jackson waited a couple of minutes before heading to that door, holding the welcome tray decorated with petals and a wine bottle, two glass on it, a tiny bowl with heart-shaped chocolate and a cup with whipped cream— he found himself almost too mean to bring it to her but it wasn't his fault after all so with a gentle smile he approached the door, ready to know.

That's when the annoying female voice of one of the hostess appeared

"You can't go there" she said, chewing a gum while looking at him, making Jackson nearly role his eyes and insult her— luckily for him he managed to hide it under a friendly poker face.

"Miss—" he started to try to come up with a lie but she interrupted him again

"I know that she didn't asked for it!—" the woman said, moving closer, ready to try to use her pathetic tricks of seduction that made Jackson already gag and rolls his eyes in annoyance.

His patient was running out and that woman was about to see it if she didn't let him enter that damn door.

"Where's my tray?" A more melodious and gentle voice spoke, the both of them turned their head, facing the soon to be Mrs Gray who was peeking out of the door, waiting almost demaindingly, saving and allowing Jackson to enter that room.

Y/n closed the door and locked it with a quick motion of her wrist, her eyes didn't meet Jackson's at first but his met her body for sure.

She headed to the bed and sat down with a soft sigh

"Pretty annoying, aren't they?" She asked, smiling slightly as she finally met his gaze— she had different clothes, a see through red nightgown with matching lingerie, her hair were down and she had a tired expression on her face as she was sitting on a wine red bed, decorated with petals.

There was also a nightstand with a note and lube, decorated also with rose petals, and a small table with a boule full with condoms.

It looked like a honeymoon suite which made the situation even sadder for the young woman but even better for Jackson

"I'm honestly quite surprised to see a man here, serving as an hostess— don't get me wrong, there's nothing bad in it but my soon to be husband prefers...women. Do you like strawberries?" She commented, her eyes on him as she waited his replay.

Jackson rested the tray on the table and with a polite smile he nodded, his eyes looking at her in an almost predatory way while replying "I do" implying more with his traveling eyes.

.

With that he found himself deep balls inside of her, his mouth against her shoulder as he bite hard to leave a mark on her as his hips kept nearly drilling inside her cunt.

Her boobs kept bouncing at each thrusts, her head was throw back and her mouth was open, letting exquisite moans leave her whole body.

Y/n's arms kept holding into Jackson's hair and shoulders for dear life

"Harder" she begged, moaning his name when her legs caged him there, making him thrusts even deeper.

It was just when Jackson grabbed her throat that she switched roles, holding him down while bouncing on his hard thick cock as if she was coming from a western

"I know you seek more" she breathed out, slowing her pace, starting just to roll her hips to find her own pleasure

"My fiancé would never let a man work in one of his private jets, expecially one like this" she cleared, biting her bottom lip as Jackson kneaded roughly her breasts

"Smart girl, I honestly thought that your intelligence matched your beauty but I was wrong apparently" he murmured, positioning his legs better, to have a better support to start to thrusts in an animalistic way inside of her tight pussy, making her bounce effortless.

"I need the passwords of your fiancé's apartment and alarm system and I need you to make him go to the house" he revealed, his hips still snapping up, her hands on his pale chest

"That's not a problem—" Y/n said, letting out a moan

"I can give them to you but..." she added, 'Of course there was a but' Jackson thought, ready to prepare some other way to make her speak.

Y/n simply moved off him, earning a soft grunt from Jackson, she lied next to his body and pulled him closer, making him thrusts again as he nearly spooned her

"I want to know the real reasons" she said and he told her, his hips rocking back and forth making his cock move inside of her— and even after what he said she started to write down things on the note that her fiancé left her.

Jackson kept looking from her shoulder, his hands on her hips.

As soon as she finished and passed him the note he manhandled her, making her go on all four for him so that he could take her roughly while checking if she was telling the truth.

She actually told him the truth, the hate she had for her fiancé was stronger that he thought and it helped him for sure so he rewarded her with orgasms and his sticky cum inside of her cunt.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989

[red-riding-wood]

Coldfire - Pt. II

Read Part I here!

Pairing: Jackson Rippner x F! Reader

Fandom: Red Eye (2005)

Summary: Intent on turning you into his plaything, Jackson "takes care" of you after you wake up in his hotel room.

Warnings: SMUT, non-con (prev) and dub-con, sexual violence, kidnapping, power imbalance, oral sex (f receiving), teasing, biting, blood, violence, humiliation, degredation, dirty talk, pet names, hair pulling, dom/sub dynamics. This is a dark!fic and a tad disgusting. Read at your own discretion.

WC: 6511

Pain. It was the first sensation you felt. The first and, for a moment, the only thing that existed.

Your skull pounded with a dull, resounding ache that seemed to trail down your spine, as if someone taking a sledgehammer to the back of your head. The pain radiated from your spine to your shoulders, your limbs, shot to the core of your stomach and settled between your sticky thighs.

Next, came the soft brush of a pillow against your face, your head lolling against the stuffed fabric, your body weighing so heavy that you thought you might sink into the bed.

The pillow smelled clean as you grasped feebly at the cotton sheets, deciding to ball the fabric in your fists because it grounded you, because it seemed to be one of the only things that were tangible in this half-awake reality of pure, almost numbing pain.

But the spice of the cinnamon that tickled your nose churned hot coals in your gut, stirred a fire deep within your core. Familiar, oh so familiar…

Voices came to you, distant and well-mannered and urgent, drilling themselves through the pockets of pain in your skull.

As a thin, white light began to filter past your haze, you wondered if these were the voices of angels, calling you to Heaven. Were they always this obnoxious?

They were taunting you, more like. That must have been it, you realised as your eyelids peeled back only for white-hot fire to singe your retinas.

Maybe this truly was the punishment for pledging your soul to violence

The light came from a crack between thick, black curtains, haphazardly drawn across a massive window frame. The light bled across your blurred vision, but colours and shapes were beginning to form around it now, and though the voices seemed to heighten in intensity, you could now discern your surroundings as some private room, the overhead blessedly off and the lighting dim.

A hotel, it seemed, as the gleam of white plastic winked at you in the shred of sunlight. A mint, on a pillow.

Your mouth watered, but your lips were dry and your reach clumsy as you tried to swipe up the mint. Your stomach roiled with an empty kind of nausea. 

Candy clutched in quivering hand, your fingers stilled as you undid the wrapper. The voices were clearer, but quieter now.

“... crime scene…” Pain. “… terrorist act ….” Pain. “… killer on the loose…” Crinkling plastic. “… university …” Why was this mint so damned hard to open? “… physicist, Doctor Cal…” Was that the ticking of a clock? “… shot with .380 ACP…” More pain.“… total lockdown…” The mint left a sharp kiss on your tongue.“… chaos...” Your blood ran cold as you recognised the taste, recalled the heat of the breath that had raked across your face…

The voices were interrupted by the click of a lock, and you startled, images of a spinning bathroom and bright, white fireworks racing through your aching skull as you buried the wrapper of the mint beneath one of the pillows, as if you were a child caught with their hand in the candy drawer.

As the door swung open, and a soft whistling filled the room, you rolled your head to the side, glimpsing the time on the alarm clock.

4:13.

For a moment, your muddled brain thought that perhaps he wouldn’t see you; your vision hedged where the skin of his neck came into view. Your breath hitched in your chest and your skull pounded, and you watched as he removed the black blazer as if he were coming home from work, whistle slowly fading from his lungs. A heavy sigh made his chest rise and fall beneath his white dress shirt, the collar stained in red.

The scent of iron, sweat and sandalwood came to you; you had breathed against that collar, you had buried your face in the warmth of his chest and tucked your head beneath the hard line of his jaw.

Your mouth watered around the mint as you recalled the chalky pill he’d placed under your tongue, shushing you and petting your hair and lulling you to sleep with a voice like silk.

The man folded his blazer and tucked it beneath the flashing screen of the TV – the source of the voices, you ascertained – and after rifling through his pockets, he placed upon it a hotel keycard, a bloodied tissue, a Ruger LCP. .380.

The familiar, metal clang of a buckle sounded, and he loosed his belt from its loops, coiling it beside the Ruger. Cold danced along your thighs, and you felt the ghost of a burn along your stinging flesh. You realised you weren’t wearing anything underneath your skirt.

He reached in the pocket of his slacks, leaning slightly as if to fetch something particularly irksome from their depths, and added a lace garment and a loop of dark fabric to the strange pile of items.

Everything dawned on you at once, weighing so heavy on your fatigued limbs that you thought for one moment you really would sink into the bed, slammed against your pounding skull as breath poured into aching lungs and the mint caught just in time between your back molars. You remembered hiding that Ruger and your holster-garter to the toilet-paper dispenser in a bathroom with navy blue stalls. You remembered lace panties behind ripped from your thighs as he shoved you against the bathroom counter.

Your eyes squinted, narrowing against the harsh light of the TV now to see cameras pulling back on footage of the university, cop cars with flashing red and blue lights and squealing sirens, listened to the droning voice of the newscaster announce the harrowing details of the death of the target you’d failed to kill.  

“Oh good, you’re awake.” A perky yet soft tone innerved your aching limbs, and your head stirred against the cinnamon of his shampoo and the cotton of the pillow.

“Fuck,” you groaned.

“And still thinking of the fun we had…” he chuckled as he approached the end of the bed. You wanted to land one good punch to his smug face, knock out his perfect white teeth. Maybe when whatever drugs he’d given you were gone from your system, provided he didn’t kill you before then.

“Does this mean I’m fired?” Your voice came raspy from your dry throat as you shifted, a lightning bolt of pain seeming to bring every neuron alive with white fire as you lifted your head slightly to look at him.

Jackson leaned down, resting the palms of his hands against the bedframe and smiling at you. “That depends,” he said, and you lowered your head back to the pillow as you rolled the dissolving mint on your tongue.

“On?”

“On how well you behave.”

“What do you want from me, Rippner?” You almost whimpered.

He tutted. “I may have to knock points for your lack of professionalism. That’s now how you speak to your boss.”

Your head hurt too much for this childish nonsense.

“And how may I be of service, sir?” You tried to force the sarcasm past your tired tone but you were drained.

“Good girl.” Those two words stirred the coals of that fire within you, making your sticky, cold thighs squirm. And that damned smile disappeared from view as he righted himself, and circled round to your side of the bed.

“I’m here to take care of you,” he told you, and the mattress sank beneath his weight as he took a seat, your nails digging into the fabric of the cover as if to keep yourself from slipping off. “And before you even think of screaming… remember what happened last time.” He brushed a lock of hair from your eyes with a surprising delicateness.

His words seemed oddly nice for a terrorist, but you weren’t fooled. There was a darkness that you could hear now beneath his silk tone. One you cursed yourself for not recognising before.

“What a relief,” you murmured into the pillow. This time, your sarcasm thankfully came through.

Warm fingers peeled at the tops of your stockings, and your knees rose instinctively, but he gave you a warning look that froze you in place – not in fear, but in a strange excitement.

“Don’t you want to feel clean?” he asked, as he peeled the thick fabric from your legs, cold racing along your flesh.

You didn’t think that you’d ever feel clean after being introduced to his sinful touch and piercing stare.

“I just want a hot bath and a very long extension cord.”

“One thing at a time, sweetheart…”

Jackson paused when the stocking rolled down to your heel, and the sharp sound of a zipper met your ears. He slipped the heel and stocking off with gentle fingers. Wisps of chestnut hair fell across his forehead as he admired your bare skin. What was he doing, playing boyfriend with you?

“Where are we?” you asked, wishing to fill the silence that seemed all too comfortable. The news on the TV made it sound like you’d just woken up in your condo, only extremely hungover.  

“A hotel.”

As his fingers rolled the other stocking down, you had the brief urge to kick him with your heel.

“Where is the hotel?”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” he said, in a half-exasperated, half soothing tone. “Just let me take care of you.” Your heel was cast aside, and the urge was gone.

The mint clicked against your teeth in the silence, and it burned your throat as you swallowed. A hand ran up the bare flesh of your calf, prying your knees slightly apart. Your heart raced in your chest, skull pounding, flashes of heat racing beneath your flesh and icy hooks sinking into the deepest fibres of your being as his gaze met yours between your thighs.

Coldfire.

You wet your lips with your tongue, thinking that for a moment, with his bright eyes and his parted lips and his hair just a little bit messed, he looked almost cute like this. For a terrorist and stalker and serial killer, that was.

Like you were one to talk.

“Careful looking at me like that.” A smirk curled the corner of his lip, and the strange innocence of his expression vanished. “I don’t know if you can handle a Round Two.”

Why did he have to ruin the moment by opening his smarmy fucking mouth, you thought, but the throbbing heat between your legs wished for other things.

And what moment could you have possibly imagined? Fuck, you were delusional.

And before you could fire back with a retort, the smirk fell from his face and icy gaze devoured you. You shivered beneath his touch as he pried your legs apart, coming up between them like a predator, eyes locked on his prey. Like a mouse pierced by snake’s venom, paralysis seeped into every pore.

A hot breath swept across your lashes in the second that he spared your soul from his gaze, twin blues running down your flushed face. Though his movements and touch were gentle, his mouth pressed to yours firmly, pulling a slight moan from your lungs. Your hand reached upwards to curl the fabric of his shirt into a fist, but he forced your wrist down. You shattered a gasp onto his tongue at the sudden, sharp movement, the bed hinges creaking from the force exerted. His fingers wove through yours, curling round your knuckles and squeezing ‘til your flesh turned white. His weight sunk onto the delicate blood vessels of your opposite wrist, your pulse hammering against his palm.

Jackson was quick to force his tongue inside your mouth, and you jolted as the remnants of the mint hit the back of your throat. Unable to do anything about it, you bit down on his lip, hard, and he growled into the kiss. Teeth grazed your tongue as you rolled it forward, and he pulled away, spitting the mint onto the sheets. His icy eyes flashed with hellfire but your body sank with relief into the mattress, tension leaving your body.

“Wouldn’t want you to choke,” he uttered darkly, fingers releasing yours to glide across your neck, shivers running down your throat as his palm once again found your pulse, fingertips brushing the beginnings of your scalp.

“Did I tell you that you could have that?” he demanded, the bright of his eyes chased by the dark.

“It was complimentary.” You sneered up at him.

Hands swept beneath your spine, pulling you upward, and the world teetered on its axis and pressure mounted your skull. Your legs wrapped around his waist, nails seeking purchase in his back to ground yourself, a moan hitching in your chest as your hips rolled forward and your bare pussy sank around the outline in his trousers. The jolt that travelled through you, from bottom to top, was perhaps the only thing that kept you from passing out as you felt the weight of the drugs tug at your limbs. Something peeled off from the back of your skull and you hissed, pawing at blood-crusted locks of hair.

“No, don’t touch that,” he told you, almost concerned. With you now firmly straddling his lap, and his legs folded beneath him, he gently pulled your hand away and replaced it with his own. Eyes narrowed in concentration, and he bit his lip. “The bleeding stopped.” A small, white bandage was pulled away, tape burning your scalp briefly as it tugged at a few threads of your hair, and your eyes tore from his to examine the almost black crimson on the white material.

Was that all? It hurt so much.

Noticing your wince of pain, he sighed, and your arm hooked with desperation round his neck as he leaned forward to reach to the end table, gravity tugging at your spine.  

You jumped, nails scraping his back, as a bottle of pills was tossed in your lap, hollowing your skirt around your thighs, and he righted himself with a glass of water in hand.

You released your hold on him to accept the water between shaking fingers, and he shook out two pills of Advil on his palm. Wedging one between his thumb and forefinger, he pressed it gently to your lips.

“Wash your hands,” you told him as you looked him up and down, at the blood that dappled his white collar and was still smeared slightly at the corner of one dark brow, and he rolled his eyes, forcing the pill past your teeth. He helped tip the glass of water to your lips, and repeated the process with the other pill.

“My pain didn’t seem to stop you before,” you said once he’d put aside the water glass and pills. “Why are you playing so nice, all of sudden?”

One hand landed on the bare flesh of your waist, slipping beneath your shirt, and the other brushed another lock of hair from your eyes.

“I told you I’d take care of you,” he said.

Before you’d the chance to respond, he was tugging your shirt over your arms, and you shut your eyes, the collar passing your lashes and crest of your skull. Lucky for him, you weren’t wearing a bra, and for the first time, his gaze landed on the swell of your breasts, your nipples hardening in the sudden cold. His lips parted and his pupils dilated.

“You have a strange way of doing that,” you remarked, breath coming shallow from your chest. Your fingers traced the collar of his shirt, still slightly damp with blood, and began undoing buttons as a sly smile crossed your face, making it all the way until his shirt came apart and your eyes widened at the sight of the dark line of hair disappearing past the hem of his trousers. Your curiosity would someday kill you if he didn’t.

“Shhh. Just rest, now…” his words confused you as he lowered your spine back to the soft bedding, but his voice melted like honey into every pore, and the mattress welcomed you. Breath pooling at the base of your neck, wet lips placed a kiss to the notch of skin in between your collarbone.

You understood now, and you found yourself with no complains, shutting your eyes and allowing his hot breath to trail down your sternum, arching your back when he reached your stomach. His nails dug into your waist, hands fitting perfectly in the grooves above your hips like you’d been made for him.

You shivered, remembering what he’d felt like inside you.

Lips brushed your navel, nose tickling your soft flesh, and his tongue began to lap at the juices that had dried on your abdomen, tasting you. His fingers hooked in the hem of your skirt. It was the only fabric between you, and even then, it had pulled taut round your spread legs. Another zipper came undone, and the checkered fabric was cast aside, sounding like it landed in a heap somewhere on the floor. Cold swept across the heat of your cunt, and lips slowly ghosted down the length of your pelvis, burying his nose in the crook of your thigh and inhaling deep.  

Your elbow had stirred, fingers coming to rest on the wet streaks his tongue had left across your stomach, though not quite reaching him, for your body still seemed to move slower than the world around you. Yet, he was almost too slow; he was taking his time, and you needed him like you’d never needed anything before. You whined out your disapproval, and he nipped at the pocket of your thigh as if to correct your behaviour.

And instead of finally giving you what you desired, he began to trail kisses down your inner thigh, hands following his movements. Your eyes blinked open in confusion, and you winced slightly in pain as you craned your neck to look down at him. Though the pillows were elevated, you sought a clearer view. What did this bastard think he was doing?

Feeling faint, you sank back into the pillow and succumbed to his teasing, a soft sigh hanging on your lips.

“Beg me for it.” His command came gruff against your skin, his tone akin to that which he’d used when he’d come deep inside you. You could still feel the last of his hot seed dribbling out of you, almost as if innerved by his words.

You chuffed out a laugh, and your head spun. “Yeah, right…” you murmured, but jolted as he placed another nip to your soft flesh. An electric current seemed to flow from his teeth through every fibre of your being, every synapse in your brain. You were too easy, you realised, as you relaxed and huffed out another sigh.

“Oh, please, Mr. Rippner… please take care of me…”

“Mm… what’s that, now? What do you need?”

“You. I need you, fucking Hell,” you breathed as you felt him smile against your thigh, the faint stubble of his jaw scratching the delicate flesh. “Please, I need to feel your tongue against me. I need you inside me… please…”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Take care of me… clean me… fuck me – I don’t care at this point.”

He tutted. “How unprofessional of you, wanting your boss to fuck you. That ought to knock off some points, for sure.”

“Stop being a goddamn tease,” you groaned, rolling your hips against empty air. Your fingers slid down your slicked pelvis to try and sate the itch between your thighs, deciding you’d do it yourself at this point. He swatted your hand away, and your knuckles burned.

“Who’s the boss here?” His breath hissed against your thigh, heat trailing down your flesh with a shiver and his nails digging in again.

“You are.” You pouted your lip, shame creeping in but you didn’t care. 

“Good girl.” The praise, uttered in such a guttural tone, made your core clench around nothingness, and his tongue began to light a trail of fire up your sensitive flesh, until his nose struck the groove of your thigh again and then his hot breath finally huffed against your folds. “So desperate for attention, so wet for your boss you’re wanting to touch yourself already. What a good fucking slut.”

Then why not let me? you thought with bitter longing, but didn’t dare utter the words. His teeth were currently hovering over a part of yourself that you didn’t particularly want bruised.

Though, on second thought…

“Come onnnnn,” you whined. “Get on with it.”

The sting of teeth landed on the lip of your pussy, and you chimed out a giggle as another wave of excitement crashed against you. “You’re so predictable…” you teased, words slurring as the heat of arousal pounded hot in your skull. The pain, you realised, was beginning to slip farther and farther from you, like a red ribbon caught in the vicious wind.

“Hey.” You jolted again as his palm struck your pussy, sensitive flesh stinging but your core clenching again with need. “Look at me.”

Your eyes fluttered open and you looked down at him, the burn of his coldfire eyes igniting something inside you that threatened to spill like lava from every pore, every fibre. You breathed heavy and smiled, admitting, “All right, maybe not so predictable.”

“Remind me, sweetheart, what do you need right now?”

“You.” A whimper was cast to the air like a prayer, and you giggled again, hair spilling around you as you laid back.

He placed a gentle kiss right on the lip of your pussy, as if to make it all better. His nose tickled the slick parting of your cunt, and you trembled.

“Good girl.” The heat of his breath raked your folds, and you nearly lost it, fingers grasping at the fabric of his shoulder.

Finally, the wet swipe of his tongue sent you into overdrive, dragging with a deliberate leisure along your slick parting. Your back arched, shaking, into the sheets, and your fingers sought his hair, threading through the strands as you squirmed under the increasing pressure of his tongue. Not teasing anymore, it was clear he wanted to devour you. And it was clear you wouldn’t last very long.

Like some kind of starved animal, he lapped up your juices, fingers forcing your legs further apart and stirring a squeal from your diaphragm, a noise which only spurred him on, teeth gently grazing your clit and his tongue circling your entrance to draw every last bit of sweet nectar from you. Thick fingers ran along your outer thighs, palms rubbing at your hips as if to encourage you on.

Stopping to catch his breath, he groaned, panting against your trembling folds, “You taste so good with my cum inside you, babygirl.”

“Fuck,” you breathed, hips bucking against his face, the stubble of his jaw lightly burning your skin. A knot tightened deep in your belly, walls clenching. He chuckled at your enthusiasm, which only sent you further over the edge, one hand cupping your ass as his tongue sought the taste of you back out, nose nuzzling into your clit. A myriad of sensations slammed into you all at once.

“Jack…” you moaned, tugging a fistful of his hair.

He stilled just as you felt yourself ready to tumble over that familiar precipice, thighs trembling around him, back fully arched as if to reach for the heavens while hellfire brewed beneath your flesh. Breaths came quick against you, nails sunk deep enough into your skin to well blood around his nails, and he growled, the sound seeming to reverberate through your core.  

“Jackson,” he corrected, tone thick with darkness. Lust. Wrath. All things sinful.

“J – Jackson.” You would say anything if it meant feeling his tongue against you again, if it meant some sort of release from the pain that still lingered beneath the surface of the pleasure he gave you.

“Mm.” Approving, he placed a kiss to your clit. Your nails raked along his scalp and the bucking of your hips became more erratic, so with his hands he pinned your waist down, a huff of fiery breath trailing up the cold of your stomach. You squirmed, desperate for release, as he prodded at your entrance, and you couldn’t take it anymore as his nails dug against your ribcage and his palms flattened against your stomach, and your walls finally clenched around his tongue as it slipped inside. 

You fell limp under him, your head tipping back to the white ceiling, your lips still parted from chanting his name like a sordid prayer, stars exploding across your vision and your skull inundated by a fire that cleansed the pain and brought with it only bliss.

You heard him swallow against a dry throat, and you lifted your starry gaze to watch as he swept his tongue along his upper lip. Bright eyes darkened by lust met yours, and you relaxed your hold on his hair, watching as chestnut locks fell around his face, clung to the sweat of his forehead. A few threads that sprung awry were limned by the blue light of the TV, the carnage that continued its broadcast. His shirt hung open, exposing the bare sheen of his chest. Your juices coated his nose and freckled cheeks, his sharp jaw framed by your thighs as they closed slowly around him. You’d never seen anything more beautiful.

“So, did I get an A?” You huffed out teasingly, and though you hadn’t thought it possible, his eyes darkened another fraction, shards of shattered ice sharpening like knives around the pools of ink black that bled into pale irises. Your sides burned where he dug his nails in, and you added, “A participation award, at least?”

Grabbing hold of your hips, he yanked you forward, your legs hooking over his shoulders and something wicked glittering in those darkened eyes. A brief moment of panic seized you as you were tugged down from your throne of pillows. His flushed lips were parted, a bead of your nectar dribbling down his chin. Looking more akin to a wild animal in that moment than he did a man, you felt the unravelled knot begin to weave into something dangerous in your gut.

“You think this is over?” he demanded, practically snarling, lips pulling in a wide grin round his white teeth. He began placing kisses and nips to your trembling thighs, ghosted a shuddering breath over the heat between them. He already had you moaning from how sensitive you were. “It’s not over ‘til I say it is, sweetheart.”

He’d told you not to scream, so you had to clamp a hand over your mouth, cries muffled by your sticky palm that smelled of mint and saliva and the faint trace of sex. He attacked you, tongue and teeth and all, while you were still coming down from your first orgasm. Yet, your hips still bucked against him, and he kept tugging you closer, grinding the slit of your cunt against his face, suckling and nipping at the delicate folds and finally forcing his tongue back inside you. Your other hand found its way back into his hair, clutching the messy strands as if your life depended on it.

You were quite certain at this point that he was trying to kill you.

Finally, as if in frustration, he hooked a finger inside you, reaching places his tongue couldn’t, and you bit down on your hand, rolling your hips madly against him despite the fatigue that weighed on every limb. Your bliss rolled over you in white-hot waves, in shivers of burning cold that seemed to electrify your skull.

Coldfire.

“Come for me one more time, baby,” he urged you, trailing sloppy, wet kisses up your stomach, gliding his weight over you to witness the look on your face as he worked his finger inside you. The knot in your belly tightened and unravelled in the space of those words alone, and you shuddered out a groan as your toes curled and your thighs closed around him. You became limp again, head spinning and darkness hedging your vision.

“Good girl.” A kiss was placed at the swell of one breast, his nails running up and down your sides. Your legs were still slung over his shoulders, now hooked around the curve of his spine, and the last thing you felt before oblivion took you was the heat of his palms on your flesh, the scrape of his bloodied nails, the graze of his teeth and the softness of his lips as he worshipped your body with little praises.

---

The dip of the bed beneath his weight was what woke you, your nose still buried in the cinnamon shampoo of his pillow and your nails clutching the fabric for dear life as the mattress creaked. Pain thudded beneath your skull, but not as intensely as before, and you were able to peek open your eyes, catching a glimpse of the alarm clock.

8:56.

A wicked finger of cold ran down your bare spine as the sensation of his body heat left you, but you remained still, waiting, like an animal playing dead. Maintaining an even breath this time. Shallow, faint.

The soft padding of Jackson’s feet against the carpet disappeared round the corner, along with the low melody of his whistle, and your breath hissed slowly from your teeth. You looked to the TV, now silent, and the blazer he’d folded across the stand. Your deadly affects were gone. Of course. Why would life ever make escaping your kidnapper that easy?

You glanced then to the door, your heart picking up speed in your chest.

But did you really want it to be easy?

Deep down, you couldn’t help but feel like you had something to prove. You’d let this man beat you and best you and had found yourself wrapped around his finger, and worse yet, he’d killed your target. You’d failed your mission.

He must’ve thought you were so pathetic.

The sound of a shower turned on, past the drywall divider of the hotel. The bathroom was located directly behind you, which must have meant the kitchenette was to your right, towards the window side.

8:59.

You had to take a minute to steady yourself against the edge of the bed as you pushed yourself up, the heels of your hands shaking against the mattress. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Head lowered between your legs, your dizziness gradually ebbed, and your toes brushed the carpet.

Legs trembling beneath you, cold washing across your nude form, you slowly crept your way into the kitchen, peering down the hall to the bathroom. Light pooled beneath the doorframe and, by the sound of it, the water still buffeted the porcelain of the tub, nearly masking his idle whistle.

Your scalp itched where you’d been struck, and you resisted the urge to paw at it. You wished desperately to fetch another glass of water to sate your parched tongue. But your eyes caught on the soft glint of knives along a magnetised strip on the wall, and you moved forward, heart pounding so hard in your skull that your breath caught in your chest, for you feared you would not be able to hear your surroundings.

The knife made the scarcest sound as you pulled it from the metal strip, and trembling fingers tightened round its handle, lowering the weapon to a defensive position at your belly. Some semblance of power coursed through your veins, hot and thick and whelming, intoxicating you for one moment as you drew a shaky breath into your lungs.

Until the noise of the shower and the whistling stopped, and your blood ran cold. The drip of water began to time to the mad beating of your heart and the rest was only silence.

Thud, thud, thud, thud…

Turning on your heel, you slipped round the corner of the wall divider and held your breath as the bathroom door swung open. A shiver passed through you in your cold sweat, and though you listened intently, the blood roared too loud in your ears to hear anything more.

“Put the knife down, sweetheart.” His voice came to you just from the other side of the wall, calm and warm, like a man coaxing his lover back from the cruel grip of calamity. You startled, your breath hissing between your teeth, though his words slid over your bare skin like silk.

Jackson emerged from behind the wall, fully clothed, hair not even damp from the shower. His hands rested at his sides, no weapons – he didn’t need them, for that tongue of his was as sharp as your knife and fire raged in those icy eyes.

“You tricked me,” you breathed, collecting yourself, stalling. He was right there in front of you… you could lash out, in one quick motion and allow your blade to meet blood and bone. “You knew I’d wake up and you turned the shower on to see what I’d do.”

“Very astute. Has anyone told you you should be a detective?” he rasped sarcastically, voice darkening. Despite his gentle plea to put aside your weapon, he had that predatory look about him that made your flesh crawl with bitter cold but your insides melt like honey.

In the second he took for his eyes to rake down your nude form, you darted to the left, reckoning you could outrun him better than you could fight him, but his hand caught your ankle and you fell, squirming in his grasp. The rough carpeting scraped your bruised flesh, and kicking at his hands, as you felt his weight clamber on top of you, clutching your knife tight as you attempted to draw it back in to your chest.

“I told you not to play games, sweetheart,” he said, hands gliding over your skin. The heat of his breath raked across the small of your back.

Twisting, you didn’t kick this time, but brought the knife in a wild slash towards him; his hand captured your wrist, squeezing again at the delicate blood vessels beneath your flesh, reminding you briefly of the brush of his lips against yours. The knife slipped between your fingers, landing somewhere beside your head in the sea of hair that spilled beneath you as you stared helplessly up at him.

There was no fear in his gaze. Only darkness.

“You know what happens to bad girls…” His other hand wove its way through your hair, bunching the locks in his fist and tugging at your scalp. Magma consumed your skull, and your lips parted in a breathless cry, the oxygen forced from burning lungs. Your fingers grabbed for his jaw, his throat, but as you tightened your hold, so did he; threads of hair snapped from their roots, and for one blinding second, all you knew was pain.

And without thinking, you screamed.

Jackson’s hand came to clamp around your mouth, frantically loosed from your hair, and instinct brought your hand in a striking blur across the hollow between his jaw and his throat, where you knew you could render him unconscious. His weight teetered over you, eyes widening, a gust of breath burning your eyes as it was forced from his lungs. Blinking wildly and gritting your teeth, you struck him again, until you managed to slip from beneath him. Fingers grasped for the knife, the cool, varnished wood of the handle a welcome comfort in your palm. 

As you made it to your feet, he sent his teetering weight forwards, crashing against you but you held on tight to your blade even as the breath once more escaped your lungs, and your spine hit the wall, jarred but consumed by adrenaline that set your veins alight with fire.

“Fucking bitch,” he snarled, any playfulness of his façade shattering like the icy shards of his wild eyes. From his shift in tone, you knew that there was no going back.

Nails dug into your skin, cruel and unrelenting, and his arm slammed your right wrist into the wall, attempting to disarm you.

Little did he know, you had switched the knife to your left.

The heat of his blood spilled around your knuckles where you clutched the knife, having driven it deep beneath his ribs, and his nails loosened from your flesh, a wheezing cough sputtering against your cheeks. For good measure, and smirking revenge, you wove your fingers through his hair, and brought his skull against the wall.

A trail of crimson smeared across the alabaster-white as you watched him sink to the floor, your chest heaving with ireful breath and his eyelids fluttering, working hard to focus on you as his fingers grasped feebly for the knife you’d left buried in his stomach.

“Feels great, doesn’t it?” You hissed, cocking a brow at him. Standing here, watching as he gasped for his breath and tightened his grip round the knife, unaware he was slicing the flesh of his own fingers on the blade, you felt powerful.

While your adrenaline lasted, you gathered up your clothes – or rather, what remained of them –, shimmying your skirt over your hips and tugging your shirt over your arms. Next, you began searching drawers, yanking them wildly from the TV stand. One clattered to the floor, but at this point, noise was no longer your concern.

You found your belongings and snapped your garter over your thigh, checked the chamber and mag of your Ruger to find he’d been kind enough to load fresh bullets, and hooked a finger over the torn lace panties to bring them up in the low light of the room.

“You can keep them,” you said, tossing them against his face, his eyes still wide and his jaw now clenching. Something like fury passed through the blue of his gaze, but still no fear. Strangely, both unease and a familiar dash of excitement brewed beneath your flesh.

Finally, you made a call to 911 from the room’s phone, telling the operator that there was a man who’d been stabbed and desperately needed medical attention. You hung up just as they asked for your name, bloodied fingers tossing the phone on the bed in your haste. There was no point covering your tracks; your DNA was everywhere, and you knew, from the fury in the man’s eyes, that it wasn’t the law you would need to watch out for.

"Y/N," he wheezed, breath hissed between his clenched teeth, and you paused. "I'm going to fucking ruin you."

"Oh..." you purred, a smile twisting your lips. "I'm counting on it."

And it wasn't from his words, but from the excitement beneath your flesh and the dull ache of your loins that you knew that it would not be the last time you saw Jackson Rippner.

And as you left, door slamming in your wake, you realised,

Maybe you enjoyed your little games.  

A.N. I'm on the fence about carrying this into a series since I have a lot to work on at the moment, but can definitely consider it if there's a demand!

MASTERLIST • REQUEST

Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed to any of my taglists and notified of new works!

Taglist: @emotionalcadaver @zablife @shelbydelrey @look-at-the-soul @brummiereader @mrkdvidal1989 @fiercelittlemouse @ohwellthatslifesstuff @purplesnorlaxplush @henrywintersdearestgirl

Coldfire taglist: @mizzbel @violetparis

[nyxvuxoa-writes]

[𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝙸𝚗 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜]

This is an updated WIP list as of 7/24. In case you are curious to if your request is in my drafts or not, you can always check here and see if something sounds similar or if you are tagged in your request progress.

[𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚂𝙴𝙳] I want to take some time to catch up on what I have. As soon as requests are open again, I will post that they are open and that my WIP list has been freed up. Please keep in mind, the wife and I are in the process of packing and moving into our new apartment, so hang in there with me while I balance things out.

This does not indicate the order that they will be done. I write with my flow, so one may flow better than the other one day. But they will all be done as soon as I can get them.

Aaron Taylor-Johnson Requests:

• Ray Marcus x Fem!Reader - Ravishment Anon Prompt Request, CNC, in drafts. • Ray Marcus x Fem!Reader - Backseat Anon Prompt Request, Car sex, in draft. • Tangerine x Fem!Reader - Title Pending Anon Continuation Request, Reader Learns More, In Drafts. • Yandere!Count Vronsky  x Fem!Reader - Title Pending Mutual Request, themes pending, smut, in drafts. • Ford Brody x Fem!Reader - Leather Black & Eyes of Blue Anon Request, Childhood Friend, Angst, Smut, in drafts, started. • Ben Leonard x Fem!Reader - Title Pending Anon Request, Hidden Feelings, Smut, in Drafts, Started. • Tarzan!Kraven x Fem!Reader - Title Pending Requested by @rvmanoffbarnes, in the wilds, smut possible, In drafts. • Kraven x Fem!Reader - Keep Your Enemies Closer Requested by @rachelcarroll1819 Avenger Reader, ties to spiderman, in drafts.

Jake Gyllenhaal Requests:

• Detective Loki x Fem!Reader - She's the Tear in My Heart Anon Requested, possessive Loki, relationship drama, in drafts.

Cillian Murphy Requests:

• Jackson Rippner x Fem!Reader - The way you Break Requested by @voxmortuus, Dark!Fic, Dead Dove, in drafts, started.

If you have questions about your draft or want to even just chat about it. Feel free to send me a message or an ask.

Normally Pinned - F.A.Q. - ATJ Masterlist - Multifandom Masterlist

[saintmuses]

❝𝙞𝙣 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙙𝙚𝙫𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙖𝙩 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣❞

Pairing:

Jackson Rippner x Abducted!Reader

Summary:

After scouting her out at the bonfire party, he wanted to get up close and personal with the politician’s daughter.

Warning(s): SMUT. Slightly dub-con. Abduction. Slight gun-play. Implied infidelity. Praise kink. Teeth marking. P in V. Fingering. Flashbacks in italics. Minors, dni!

Word Count: 1.9K

Jackson Rippner was hovering over her form, his jean clad knees were barely touching the mattress he had in the basement as she glared up at him, shivering when the cold metal of the gun he held in his hands met her skin that was quickly flushing above the swell of her breasts.

He then moved the gun in a slow downward motion, trailing between her breasts, over her sternum, and towards her abdomen in a challenge for her to not to do something.

He wouldn't shoot her, but she wouldn't know that.

He groaned loudly when he felt something jamming up between his legs, making him to kneel over her on the bed, his head was laying on her abdomen which prevented her from being able to flip over, and he belatedly realized she had brought her knee up to his scrotum.

Jackson chuckled internally in his head, already knowing she was a firecracker and he reveled in it.

Before she could move, he had already pounced on her. Shoving the gun aside, hearing the metal clanged on the cemented floor; he grabbed both of her wrists in his hands, putting his knees on both sides of her legs as he straddled her on her hips to immobilize her aggressive movement.

"Stop moving," he growled in warning, he didn't want her to move any more than necessary because he was throbbing, both in slight pain from her assault, and reaction to her movement when she accidentally wiggled her hips to the side.

She stilled, eyes glaring fire at him. He could hear her grinding her teeth slowly, and he moved one of his hands to enclose his fingers around her other wrist. He then moved his other hand to her jaw and held it tightly between his fingers.

"What a good girl," he craned his neck to the side of her face as he crooned and glided his nose on the ample of her cheekbone. "You're so fucking beautiful," he breathed into her skin.

His lips parted as his tongue peeked out to touch her skin, making her jump slightly and her breath stilled, he lightly trail down from her cheekbone to the curve of her neck, absorbing the slight salty skin while leaving a damp trail behind from his tongue.

He realized she was not fighting back.

He then gently released her jaw, dragging his hand downward, slowing down when he reached the swell of her breast, and he lightly cupped it.

Inhaling the sweet aroma, "You may despise me for abducting you, but you have to admit that there's something between us," he murmured into the juncture of her neck. Feeling devious, "baby." He breathed before parting his lips and letting his teeth dig into her skin.

Hard.

She gasped, making a painful sound. Her arms wiggled, jerking in his strong grip, she almost had it out of his reach, but he was much stronger than her.

He then softened, by easing his teeth from her skin. Curious and filled with lust, he looked down to see his teeth dents with her skin split open in some grooves, oozing slightly with blood on her skin as the surface began to turn bruising-like. He felt himself hardened more, and he turned his head till his lips were next to her ear.

"You look ravishing," he breathed, lifting his hips slightly while moving his hand next to her head, then he moved downward making a contact with her lower abdomen, biting his bottom lip as his hardened cock rubbed against her through his jeans, and he couldn't help but to let out a guttural groan.

He wanted to bite her some more; mark her with his teeth, leaving behind the gouges, and he wanted to fuck her thoroughly to ruin her for everyone else.

After all, she was his. Had been since the moment he laid his eyes on her photograph in the dossier his superior handed him for this mission.

No, he will not kill her which was never his intention, it was her father he had to eliminate. He would send her home, and do it all over again, taking her on the furniture in her bedroom.  

He wouldn't care if they would get caught.

She stilled once more, turning her head towards him. Raising his head, he peered down at her. 

"Go to hell," she hissed.

It was a weak attack, but it was only weak due to the growing lust in her eyes, making her pupils dilating, and he chuckled before leaning down to hover his lips over hers. "I'm already there, sweetheart." 

Then he smashed his lips onto hers hungrily, unrelentingly, and she gasped into his mouth. 

Taking advantage of her parted lips, he drove his tongue into her mouth, tangling with hers, battling for dominance and he won.

He opened his eyes, to see her gaze, and he nearly shuddered in pleasure when he saw acceptance in her eyes. Somehow, his lips became forceful, more passionate.

He decided to go to the bonfire party for where she frequented at, to scout her out.

His eyes scanned the crowd as he blended in with the group who was drinking excessively on alcohol. He held a beer, just for the show because he needed to be sober in order to analyze her with a clear mind.

He saw two silhouette figures standing by the tree, spotting Y/N who had her hand wrapped around the red cup, she was overshadowed by a man who was standing behind her, and he shifted his posture in curiosity when he saw the man walking away from Y/N with a hasty retreat after turning away from her.

When Y/N turned to call after him with an annoyed expression on her face, he could see her as clear as the glass.

Something just shifted inside of him when he laid his eyes on her.

Quickly, an image pressed itself to his eyes of the girl splayed underneath him on his bed, her clothes on the floor and his hands all over her.

His hands in her hair, gripping tightly to reveal her throat to his hungry gaze; to bite, to mark, to feast upon her flesh.

He refused to look away. Or to blink. He didn't care if he came off leery to the others.

He had only come to the party to figure out tactics for blackmailing since the mission is top clearance of assassinating a politician who so happened to be her father but seeing her had changed his priorities.

Her hair with wild eyes, and lips that he could imagine wrapping around his cock.

He could see that Y/N turned back to looking at something which happened to level in his sight of a brunette hair woman sitting next to a blonde-haired man by the fire.

He could tell that her annoyed expression had faded into an adoring mask when she saw the man.

He felt green, oozing with jealousy when her lips grew sweet, and he felt a sting of pain in his palm when he realized he had dug his fingernails into his palm out of anger.

He could see that she was in love. It was very subtle, but it was all in her expression.

Well, he was going to have to fix that.

It had been a moment, but her eyes did meet his in the mass of crowd. She looked neutral when she looked at him, but in her eyes, it told a different story. She was intrigued, then she smiled at him politely before looking away.

It was what prompted him to abducted her that night.

Jackson decided to wrap his fingers on the middle of her tank top, gripping it with both hands, barely giving her any warning before ripping down in the middle. Allowing the fabric to fall away, exposing her breasts to his hungry gaze.

She couldn't help but suck in a breath.

His gaze flickered to her breasts, lightly wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. Feeling the urge to wrap his lips around her nipples, he settled for wrapping his fingers around each curve of her breasts.

A small pink tongue darted out to wet her lips and his grip on her breasts tightened slightly.

Her skin flushed and some strangled sound fell from her parted lips.

He squeezed them, cupping them as he rolled them gently before plucking each of her nipples with his fingers.

He let out a throaty chuckle before releasing his grip on her breasts, trailing his fingers down her abdomen, slowing down once he reached for her jeans, curling his fingers to grip the top of the fabric, then he dragged them down until it touches at the knees, then he quickly slid the soaked cotton underwear down her legs along with her jeans, and tossing it to the side before covering her body with his own.

He ran his hands along the inside of her thighs, gently kneading her flesh as he continued to run his hands over her thighs.

Another moan escaped from deep in her throat when he slightly slid his fingers down the length of her slit, applying pressure as it grazed over her clit when he felt the wetness collecting in the juncture of her thighs, and her back arched as he suddenly plunged two fingers into her.

His breath caught in his throat as her eyes flew open in shock, pupils blown and instantly their eyes met, and everything froze.

He inhaled, the smell of her heady cunt sent shivers down his spine as he began to withdraw his fingers and pushing them back in a repetitive manner.

Drawn out, but slow thrusts to get the feeling of her walls, then it became fast and shorter.

Her thighs tightened around his large hand as her passion grew and he welcomed his hand being trapped in her thighs.

"Come for me," he murmured, pressing his lips against the sheen sweat on her skin of her neck.

Her entire body tensed as she arched her back as the pleasure rolled through her, gasping into the air as her eyes rolled back into her head.

"Good girl," he rumbled against her throat, and she practically squirmed beneath him at the praise, pulling forth a smirk to his lips.

His cock thickened, straining against the confines of his jeans as he stood up from his position.

He could see her looking up at him with anticipation in her depths as he reached for the metal button that held the top of his jeans.

The zipper followed after unbuttoning, the sound of the zipper being undid by him seemed to be so final.

He was going to have her.

He reached inside of his pants to pull out his cock, allowing it to spring free, making her breath catch in her throat. He was huge, and he knew that. 

And he couldn't wait to shove his cock into her, branding her as his even if she had been taken before.

He bent his knees after pushing her thighs apart, guiding his knees in between her parted legs on the mattress as he hovered over her.

His eyes burned into hers as he grasped himself and lined up, sweeping the head of his cock between her folds, and coating himself in her wetness. 

His hips then thrusted, and suddenly his entire length filled her, stretching her out. 

He let out a guttural groan as her walls clenched around his thick cock in response.

Then he withdrew slightly, then slammed it into her brutally, smashing his lips against hers as she moan keenly into his mouth as she gripped his broad shoulders.