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strang3lov3 · 1 month ago

Text

Downpour

Jack offers you a ride home, pulls over to wait out the storm, and fucks you. (4k)

Tags - smut, fingering, oral (f! receiving) hand jobs, unprotected piv, infidelity (Jack is married still), dirty talk, pet names (darling, sweetie, sweetheart, dear), unspecified age gap, kissing, finger sucking, bit of comeplay/come eating, reader has a bush but is otherwise undescribed #bushnation, Jack is all sweet and tender but kinda pervy too, i've headcannoned that mr. delroy is a man who comes a lot. like just so much come. references to late night with the devil but this fic can be understood without watching the movie, I write car sex uniquely in that I am not bound by physics or logic or any bullshit like that. So it’s like a Mary Poppins bag in there. Lots of room for fucking. No, don’t ask questions. Shhh. Don’t worry about it. Fic Help - @noxturnalpascal thanks for your help sweetheart ♡ i love you forever A/N - the David Dastmalchian brain worms infected me months ago and have not let me rest, so here’s this. Car sex with an older and married Jack Delroy.

I feel a little nervous about writing Jack, as I feel with all characters that are new to me. It takes me some time to find my groove. Kind comments would be appreciated 💕 maybe a prompt or two in the inbox for me to play around with if you wanna see more of him 🙏

As Night Owls comes to a close for the evening, and laughter and chatter begin to fade out, you busy yourself tidying up your station. Cleaning your makeup brushes, packing away your supplies for the weekend. You watch the television in your room and see Jack waving goodbye, shaking audience members’ hands. He’s so handsome tonight. He’s handsome every night.

You’ve been working as a makeup artist on Night Owls for about a year now. It’s a job you kind of stumbled your way into. You had won a raffle ticket to watch Night Owls live show. You were so excited to go and yet you don’t even remember who the guest was that night. You went alone, and found yourself charmed by the show’s host, Jack Delroy. While on commercial break, while the television crew changed the set, you noticed Jack glancing at you as you touched up your makeup, fidgeting and tapping his foot. You offered him a kind smile, and he approached you.

“Jack Delroy,” he said, holding out his hand. You took it, and he kissed the backs of your fingertips. Starstruck, you giggled and gave him your name, tripping over the syllables. “Beautiful name, darling.”

“Thank you, Mr. Delroy.”

Jack held your hand longer than what was appropriate. Realizing this, he quickly dropped it. “So, I apologize, but I'm about to be very forward. Gosh, this is very embarrassing,” he laughed awkwardly, then scratched the back of his neck. “I get a little oily in the face. The lights, you know. You wouldn’t happen to have like, a…” he trailed off, stuttering as he tried to find the right words.

You smiled and held up a finger, then dug through your makeup bag for some Mary Kay Beauty Blotter sheets your friend had given you. “Here.” You held the pack sheets out for the handsome talk show host. “Would these help?”

Jack took the sheets from you and inspected them.

“And this,” you added, handing him your mirror compact. “You just press one of the sheets against your skin.”

Jack grinned kindly, then took one of the small sheets and pressed it on his forehead and his long, gorgeous nose. “You are a lifesaver,” he said. “There. This is much better. I’m almost as pretty as you now, huh?”

Your cheeks warmed and you looked down at your lap to hide your smile.

“Apologies, I’ve been told I'm a chronic flirt.”

“I don’t really mind,” you told him softly.

Jack pressed his lips together in a smile and nodded, then sat in the empty seat next to you. “Alright,” he said, “This is an odd question, but I’d like to toss it out there anyway because you seem to know what you’re doing with this kind of stuff. We’re short a makeup artist here at Night Owls. It’s unorthodox, I know, but you wouldn’t happen to be interested in–”

You gasp. “I’d love to. Yes.”

“--Being our makeup artist,” Jack finished, chuckling at your excitement.

“Sorry, I just - oh god, I’d really love to,” you gushed. Jack opened his mouth to speak further, but was called back to set.

“Stick around after the show, will you?” Jack winked.

“I will, Mr. Delroy.”

And that’s how it happened. The job was simple: A little powder here, moisturizer there, hairspray to seal it all off. Nothing complicated, and it paid well. Lots of perks and advantages, like meeting TV stars and music artists. You consider yourself lucky.

Perhaps your favorite part of the job is getting Jack ready for his shows. You’re no stranger to his handsomeness, but it’s special to experience it the way you do. To wash his face, moisturize it, paint a little makeup on his skin - as if he even needs it. “Make sure you cover up my crows feet, please, darling,” Jack said, pointing to his perceived flaws in the mirror. “Gosh, I’m getting so old. Don’t get old.”

“Noted,” you told him.

“And my hair, could you use a bit of that makeup to cover up my grays? They look so much worse on the screen.”

Your heart broke a little. He’s always asked you to cover his wrinkles, but covering his grays was new. You hate doing it. That’s your least favorite part of the job.

“Oh, but they don’t look so bad, Mr. Delroy.” You combed your fingers through his hair, inspecting the silvery strands he complained about. They look so beautiful against the inky black rest of his hair.

“Jack,” he corrected. “Just Jack. Who says they don’t look so bad?”

“I um…” you hummed, nervously messing with his hair. “Just fans, some of your fans kind of like it.”

“Do they, now?” Jack teased, his eyebrow cocked. He laughed at your bashfulness as you stuttered something in defense. So shy, so sweet.

Jack loves you all the same. He loves the special affection he gets from you as you get him ready each night, he loves getting to peek down your shirt. But he plays the gentlemanly act well, never going further than a little harmless flirting. It’s fun to make you squirm, tease you for your little crush on him. He’s not oblivious to it.

When the Night Owls theme finally ends and the studio lights go out, you get a phone call at your station. You hold the receiver up to your ear. “Hello?”

“It’s Shar,” the voice says. Sharon is your roommate, and also your ride to and from work most nights. She drops you off at the studio before her shift, then picks you up after the show ends each night. Tonight, however, she’s at a party. “I met this guy, and I wanna go home with him. So that means…” Sharon doesn’t finish the sentence. She sounds guilty.

“But you’re my ride, Shar,” you complain. “And they’re saying it’ll rain. What am I gonna do?”

“I promise I’m gonna make it up to you, okay? Don’t be mad. You’re not mad.”

“Sharon,” you groan.

Sharon says your name. “Just listen - he’s so fucking hot, seriously. He’s like a movie star.”

“A movie star, huh?”

“Don’t judge. Like you wouldn’t fuck Jack Delroy if you could. You know what, why don’t you ask him for a ride?” Sharon teases.

“No way, not happening. He’s married, and his wife is sick. Absolutely not.”

“Pussy.” Sharon pauses. “If you really don’t have another way home, I’ll come get you.”

“No, no. It’s fine. I can take the bus, I guess. But you owe me.”

“I do owe you,” Sharon says, “I owe you so much. I love you. Bye. Be safe.”

“You be safe,” you quip. “Condoms.”

Honestly, you’re not mad. Is it an inconvenience, sure. But Sharon works hard and deserves a nice night, and she’s right - you’d fuck your movie - television - star crush if you could too. You’ve taken the bus before, and it’s usually empty this time of night. It’ll be fine.

You grab your purse, pull your knit cardigan over your torso and walk out of the studio, down the hall, then take the elevator down to the lobby. Through light rain, you walk down the street until you’re at a bus station, then sit down on the bench. A gust of wind nearly knocks you over, causing you to shiver and pull your cardigan tighter around your body as you wait for the bus.

At least you don’t have to wait for long, though. Headlights approach, and the vehicle slows down. Except, it’s not the bus you were expecting. It’s a cerulean ‘74 Buick Electra, Jack’s car. He pulls over and leans across the seat to crank the window down. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Waiting for the bus,” you yell. Rain’s starting to come down harder, now, soaking your clothes. Jack makes a face and motions for you to get into his car. You wave him off, “It’s okay. It shouldn’t be much longer.”

“Nonsense! Get in the car.”

“It’s really okay, Mr. Delroy.”

Jack rolls his eyes. He gets out of his car and rounds the front of it, then takes your hand and pulls you up from the bench. “I’m not asking. I am telling you, as your boss, to get in my car.”

Jack opens the passenger door and ushers you inside, then shuts your door and gets into the driver’s seat. “It’s supposed to be the storm of the century out there, and you’re gonna let it blow you right away. Crazy girl.”

“Thank you, Mr. Delroy,” you murmur sheepishly.

Jack puts the car into first gear and takes off. “What’ve I told you about calling me Mr. Delroy? Jack, sweetie. Just Jack.”

“I’m sorry, M- Jack.”

“Too sweet for your own good, you know that? Always so polite. Where am I taking you, sweetheart?”

“It’s a little bit far. You’re just gonna take this road for a while,” you instruct. “And then I’ll tell you where to turn. I’m not in the city proper.”

“Must be nice,” Jack replies. “Quiet.”

You shrug. “Sometimes. Not usually. My roommate is kind of noisy.”

Jack chuckles. “The roommate days, gosh. I don’t miss those a bit.” He pauses, thinks of something to say to fill the silence. “You don’t usually take the bus, do you?”

“Not usually, no,” you answer. “My roommate gives me a ride most of the time. But she ditched me tonight, so…”

“That’s a real shame.”

The rain starts to pick up a little more. Jack squints and at the road and increases the speed of his windshield wipers. He tries talking to you, but you can’t hear him over the drumming of rain against his car. Thunder booms, the drumming becomes louder and the windshield is nearly impossible to see out of. Jack has slowed the car down to a crawl, but when hail begins to fall from the sky, he pulls over. He shifts his car into neutral, then pulls the emergency brake to keep the car from rolling. Jack leans in close so you can hear him, “We’re just gonna wait out the storm, okay? It’s not safe to keep driving.”

“Yeah, that seems smart,” you agree. You’re thankful Jack showed up when he did, and that he’s keeping you safe in his car. If you listen closely, you can hear the faint sound of music playing on his stereo. You still feel a little nervous, though. Maybe it’s the storm, or the jitters of being alone with Jack - older, married, handsome Jack. You shiver in your wet cardigan.

“You’re cold,” Jack says. He tugs on your sweater, “Let’s get this off of you, huh? Not gonna let you catch a cold on my watch.” He peels the sweater off of you entirely, then lays it in his backseat. “And look, watch this–” Jack presses a button on his dashboard, a little orange light glows beneath the tiny image of a seat. Within a few seconds, the leather underneath you begins to warm. “Neat, huh? That should warm you up nicely.”

You still look cold, it’s evident in the way you hold yourself. Shoulders curled inward, hands clasped together. Jack thinks about holding you close, using his body to warm yours, but decides against it. You want it too, but you’ll never initiate touch.

You look out of the raindrop-covered window at the creepy woods off to the side, the trees illuminated by the lightning. Jack sees the worry on your face reflected on the glass. “Everything alright, sweetie?”

“It’s just the woods,” you answer. “I don’t know. I don’t like it. I’ve heard about…I don’t know. Scary stuff happens there.”

“Like what?”

“Satanic rituals or something. The occult, that kind of stuff. I’ve heard about it on TV.”

Jack lies to assure you, “It’s all make-belive,” he says, pushing down his own memories of The Grove. The sickly sweet smell of decaying leaves, sticks and branches crunching beneath his feet. The cold, metallic cup against his lips, that awful taste of whatever it is he drank. “But don’t look at the woods. Just look over here, right at me.” Jack turns your face toward his, then taps your nose. “There’s that beautiful smile.”

You grin even wider. You know it’s just his nature, that it’s his job to be charming and likable, charismatic and sweet. It makes you feel so special and seen nonetheless.

Jack smiles too. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He admires the details in your face for a minute, your perfect nose, sparkling eyes, your pretty lips. His eyes travel lower, tracing the endlessly beautiful curves of your body - breasts, waist, hips, thighs. There’s a rip up high on your nylons, just below your ridden-up skirt. He furrows his brows and touches your bare skin with his finger, “What happened here?”

“Oh.” You touch the tear with your finger, just a hair away from Jack’s. “My cat, Felix. He ripped my tights.”

“Sounds like Felix is a real troublemaker, huh?”

“Oh, he can be,” you giggle quietly. “But I love him anyway.”

Jack keeps his finger on the hole in your nylons, now drawing lines back and forth over your thighs with the rest of his fingers. Little goosebumps erupt on your skin in their wake. “You’re still so cold, darling. What am I gonna do with you?” Another shrug, another shy smile. “Come here,” Jack whispers. He wraps his strong hands around your legs and pulls you across the seat so that your legs are lying across his, and your torso curled into his own. Fuck, he smells good. His cologne is musky and spicy and masculine. You’re so close, Jack can feel your heart pounding nervously. But he says nothing about it, doesn’t want to embarrass you. Instead, Jack just gazes at you warmly, still tracing patterns on your leg. “You’re such a gorgeous girl, have I ever told you that?” He pushes a bit of your hair behind your ear, sending tingles down your neck and spine.

“Jack,” you whisper, elongating his name. “Stop it.”

“I’m serious, darling. If only I were a younger man…If I hadn’t married…” He moves his hand from your ear to your mouth, pulling down on your bottom lip with his thumb. God, you’re so soft. Desire is building within Jack, taking control over his sensibilities. And you, too young and enchanted by Jack fucking Delroy to listen to any inhibitions in your head telling you that you should stop this.

Jack pushes his thumb past your lips and you suck on it gently, so gently, the blunt little edges of your teeth tickling his fleshy skin. Arousal quickly builds in Jack, the sensation overwhelming him and bubbling over. He pulls his thumb from your mouth and holds your cheeks in both of his hands, inching closer to you bit by bit. Jack licks his lips, he’s about to do it. Finally, he does. Jack closes the gap between you by pressing his lips against yours, kissing you softly. He’s relaxed and controlled, but the way you kiss him is desperate and a little tentative. In time and with encouragement from Jack, how he squeezes you and growls against your lips, you find your confidence. You kiss him fervently, tasting him, savoring the softness of his tongue.

Jack takes your hand and presses it against his warm bulge. You gasp, “But your wife–”

“Shh, quiet. She’s not here, now is she?”

“N-no,” you stutter.

“No. It’s just us. You-” Jack unzips his pants and pulls his rock-hard cock out of his boxers. He spits into your palm and has you hold his length, then closes his hand around yours. “-And me.”

With your hand under Jack’s, he pumps his cock. “Oh, that’s good. You’re my good girl,” he breathes.

Jack grips his cock tighter and kisses you again. “Oh, Jack,” you moan. Jack helps you to stroke him from base to tip, your pinky finger brushing against that patch of coarse hair at his pelvis, thumb rubbing over his weeping head.

“Just like this, darling. All the way up, all the way down. Just like this. You’re doing so well.”

Jack twitches in your hand as you feel every thick vein and ridge on his cock. He urges you to pump him faster and at the same time, touches you. He gropes your breasts first, breasts he’s dreamed of touching since he first laid eyes on you. He unbuttons your blouse and slides his hand beneath your bra to squeeze your flesh, tease your nipples. Jack relishes in your body, how supple, soft, warm and wanting you are. You touch him like you love him and Christ, Jack can’t wait to bury himself inside you. Feel that warm, wet embrace of a young woman’s cunt.

“Do you let other men touch you like this, sweetheart?” Jack asks, unzipping your skirt and shoving his hand down the front of your nylons. He toys with the arousal-dampened hair that’s spattered on your mound, then slips his fingers past your lips. “Older men, huh? Married men?”

“N-no, Jack. Just you. Only you.”

“Do you like being touched like this?” You stutter out a frantic, breathy ‘yes’. “Dirty girl. It’s always girls like you.”

Jack circles your clit with his fingertips, then presses two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. “Distracted, are we?” he murmurs as your hand that strokes his cock slows to a still, so focused on how Jack pleasures you that you forget about his needs.

“H - what?” Jack chuckles and gives your hand a squeeze to remind you. “Oh, I’m s - sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” God, you are such a precious girl, and Jack is a lucky man. He breaks away from you just for a moment to undress himself, shoving his pants down his thighs and unbuttoning his dress shirt. Once bare, Jack turns to you and finds that little tear in your nylons again, then rips the hole wider up the garment. He yanks the nylons and your panties off of your legs and puts them with the rest of his discarded clothes, tucking them away for later. He removes your skirt next, followed by your bra and your blouse. You breathe heavily as Jack takes in your naked form, even more beautiful than he pictured. He needs you now, needs to taste you.

Jack pushes you gently onto your back, laying you out across the bench seat before sinking to his knees on the floor of his Buick. He wraps his strong forearms around your still rain-cold thighs and pulls you close, close enough so that you can feel his hot breaths on your slick pussy. Jack could eat you alive right now.

He spits on your pussy, then rubs your folds with his fingers, paying special attention to your clit. He spreads your lips wide and admires your shiny, glistening center. “My, look at this mess,” Jack marvels, admiring your creamy arousal. He tastes you then, pressing a soft kiss against your core. Jack inhales deeply, taking in your scent, feeling your hair against his shaven face. His tongue darts from between his lips and he licks you up and down, dipping his tongue inside you.

“Jack, oh my - yes,” you gasp, your hands tugging on his graying strands of black hair. Jack slowly licks a long stripe up your seam with his tongue flat against you, all the way from your asshole to clit. “Jack.”

The mess he’s reduced you to. All broken moans, desperate, needy cries of his name. Jack smiles against your cunt and continues licking and lapping at the sensitive part of you. He traces your folds, sucking them between his lips. He draws circles around your clit with the tip of his tongue next, driving you wild. “You like this, darling, don’t you? You like having this pretty pussy eaten?”

All you can do is nod. Jack closes his lips around your clit and sucks, causing you to clamp your thighs around his head and pull his hair tightly between your fingers. Jack forces you apart so that all you can do is take it, all that relentless, smoldering pleasure.

Jack intensifies it all by pushing a finger inside you and curling it, stroking that sensitive part of you. Within seconds you’re coming, rocking your hips against his face as you ride out your high.

There’s barely a comedown. Jack crawls over your body, one foot planted on the floor of the car and the other kneeling on the seat. He reaches behind the front seat for his suit jacket and bunches it up, then fits it between your head and the passenger door. “Don’t want your pretty little head to get hurt is all,” Jack says.

He holds his cock between his thumb and his forefinger before he lines up with your entrance. His cock is big, perfectly lengthy and girthy. You tense up a bit as he fits his cockhead inside of you, “Easy, darling. Take it all for me,” he coos.

You inhale deeply, and on your exhale Jack pushes himself inside of you in full. “Ohhh,” you moan. It’s such a tight fit, he fills you so fully. The aching burn of the stretch takes time to dissipate as Jack rubs your hip. After a moment, Jack pulls out of you, then inches his way back in. Your face previously scrunched in pain is now relaxed, soft little noises of pleasure escaping your lips. “That’s it, good girl,” Jack says. “Wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

Jack laces his fingers between yours and uses his other hand to brace himself on the back of the car seat. Jack begins thrusting, not quite fucking you gently. It builds quickly, the pace both harder and faster. Jack rocks his hips into you at that perfect angle to have you writhing on his cock, the head of it kissing the most sensitive place inside of you over and over. You bury your face into him, the hair on his chest tickling your face.

“Fuck,” Jack grunts, fucking you deeper. He knows he should be more gentle than this, but he can’t be helped. He loses himself inside of you, growling like an animal as he fucks his cock into you. You’re squirming beneath him, muscles tensing against his as you begin to cry, overwhelmed by it all. “Such a filthy fucking girl, crying on my cock. You’re okay, sweetie.”

Jack rolls his hips quickly and fluidly so that his pubic bone is grinding against your mound, the friction inching you closer and closer to a second release, but it isn’t quite enough. You rock your hips to match Jack’s thrusts, needing more against your clit. “M-More please, Jack,” you beg. “I wanna come, Jack, make me come again.”

While still fucking you, Jack spits onto two of his fingertips, then fits his hand between your bodies. He finds your sensitive bud and rubs it, using the momentum of his thrusts to bring you to climax once more. “Come for me, sweetheart. Give - fucking give it to me.”

Jack rounds your clit with his fingers, putting harder pressure against it. In moments, you’re coming for him again, this orgasm more intense than the last. Your moans are louder, more frantic. Your face scrunches in pleasure as you pulse around Jack’s cock, urging his own release along. “Good girl, good fucking girl.”

Jack growls into your ear as he spills into you, milking himself entirely. He fills you with his come, so warm inside you, the throbbing of his cock so pleasurable and satisfying. Dampened with sweat, Jack presses his forehead against yours as he fucks you through his orgasm, then slows to a still. He hisses a little when he pulls out of your cunt, his spend dripping from your hole onto the leather. Jack collects this mess with his finger, then pushes the digit into your mouth as he catches his breath.

It’s all quiet, save for a few scattered raindrops and the sound of you and Jack both catching your breath. Jack breaks the silence. “Well hey, how about that. The storm passed, huh? Was really something, too. I’m glad we pulled over,” Jack laughs nervously. He helps you dress yourself as best as he can, then haphazardly dresses himself too. You smile a little, and Jack touches your face. “You alright, darling?”

“I’m okay,” you answer, still a little tearful. Jack smiles sympathetically and pulls you into his side, then shifts his car into gear.

“Well, let’s get you home, then.”

TY for reading! Comments, reblogs, all of that good stuff would be so appreciated ♡

#jack delroy #jack delroy x reader #Jack delroy x reader smut #jack delroy smut #late night with the devil #david dastmalchian #david Dastmalchian characters #strang3lov3 #jack delroy/reader #jack delroy/you

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tofuxtea · 8 months ago

Text

𝟕:𝟎𝟒 𝐚𝐦 | 𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — murdoc (2016) x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

#macgyver #murdoc macgyver #murdoc smut #macgyver tv show #macgyver smut #david dastmalchian #smut #david dastmalchian murdoc #murdoc x reader #murdoc fic #macgyver 2016

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accidentally-in-fictional-love · 6 months ago

Note

For your ask game ~ 📖 🦉 🔞

Worth the Risk - Jack Delroy/Reader

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

Wordcount: 6317

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Goddamn you Carmichael Haig.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Every single night.’

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

‘Quite the view, isn’t it?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘What was that?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Is it working?’

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

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

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

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

‘Years.’

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

What a fucking gentleman.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#Ray's Readers #Ray's Requests #david dastmalchian #jack delroy #jack delroy x reader #after the sheer STRESS of today I need a lil smut writing time to chill out with #too bad it took me way to long to actually finish this cause stuff kept happening #it's been a very busy day for me whoo #correction it is now the next day that's how long it took me to work on this TwT

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how-serene · 7 months ago

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Devil I know - Series (Out now)

Pairing - Obsessive!Jack Delroy x Fem!Reader

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

First Chapter

#david dastmalchian #jack delroy #jack delroy x reader #late night with the devil #dark!jack delroy #obsessive!jack delroy #jack delroy x fem!reader #jack delroy smut

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jackdelroysbump · 3 months ago

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Mr. Midnight

Jack Delroy X Reader

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

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

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

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April 15th, 1977

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The End (Maybe??!?)

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

#jack delroy #late night with the devil #lnwtd #david dastmalchian #jack delroy smut #jack delroy x reader #yallmyownfichadmegiggling

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06stryker · 2 months ago

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pov : you’re on a date with johnson

#david dastmalchian #johnson reprisal #reprisal johnson #reprisal johnson x reader #reprisal #reprisal hulu #reprisal 2019 #strykersart

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jackdelroys · 7 months ago

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[apology] for jack delroy, if you want!!! so glad people are writing for this man 🙏

super excited to write for him!! he's everything 🫶 thank you for the request! i could talk for hours about jack and the psychology behind him auuugh

[ apology ] a kiss offered as a way to apologize or make amends

THE last thing he'd expected when he entered his dressing room was to see you, perched carefully on the couch that lined the far wall. You'd taken the liberty of making yourself a drink, a question he didn't have to even ask, not with the way you'd motioned the glass towards the minibar adjacent to your seat.

"I didn't know you were here," he muttered, glancing out the doorway cautiously before shutting the door and locking it, "I looked for you. I haven't seen you all night."

You shrugged, explaining that you'd come late.

The casual tone of your response eased his tensions. He tosses the jacket of his suit aside, pulling his tie loose and approaching the bar himself. He pours his usual, and takes a sip as the bitter twang of alcohol and mixers hit his tongue.

"You did great tonight."

He turns, hearing how close you are. As he looks you over, a sigh escapes him, and with it the lingering anxiety that he generally carried post-show. He comments on the outfit you've worn -- you look nice. The way he says it, so quietly, so earnestly is almost jarring compared to the Jack you've just watched on the stage set for the past hour or so; But at the same time, it doesn't worry you. This is the Jack saved for you, the one that's opened up to you alone, in private.

There's something so endearing about it, the idea, and he can see you thinking, with a questioning look does he lean forward just slightly, and with reassurance and a light but dismissive laugh do you meet him halfway, pressing your lips to his. He looks nice, too.

You taste like cherry. It's sweet and simple and easy to remember, and he'll never admit it but it's the reason he always restocks the flavored cola in the minibar every week. He likes being able to remember you like this, so sweet and pretty and gentle -- or maybe not so much gentle as it was calculated, he changes his mind as he feels your fingers tug at the hair at the base of his neck.

He allows an arm to slip around your waist and he pulls you to him, not so much caring now if his neatly pressed shirt wrinkles, or stains for that matter, as he fumbles his drink and spills some between yourselves and the carpet. With both hands free, it's easier to maneuver you until you're hoisted onto the bar's flat-topped surface anyhow.

"I'm sorry I was late," you offer, pushing away from his eyes the bangs that have come loose in all of their meticulously, promenade-drenched elegance.

"Don't apologize," you can barely hear him over the way he's buried himself in your neck now, between kisses and half-taken breaths he's still trying to refill his drink, all the while distracting you with the way his mouth feels against your skin.

You don't know how long you stay there like that, with his wandering hands and other affections, but by the time you're stumbling out of the dressing room into the empty studio, you're as drunk on his kisses as he is his whiskey, and you're taking his keys and offering (without taking no for an answer) to at least drive him home safely. He's wearing that goofy grin again, the one he puts on for the cameras, as he hands them to you, his touch lingering on your palm.

"Y'really think I did good today?"

You nod, nudging him in the direction of the passenger seat.

"You did perfect, baby."

Perfect, baby.

Even through his drunken haze, he giggles, in a giddy sort of way. Even if you'd said it to appease him, he liked the sound of it.

It was definitely something he could get used to.

#jack delroy #late night with the devil #david dastmalchian #jack delroy x reader #writing ||#i have many thoughts ab jack ok.

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embodyingchaos · 1 year ago

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HII !! omg it's been so long since I've seen anyone write for David Dastmalchian's characters ＼(^_^)／

could I request hcs for abner with a s/o with a symbiote (Venom) ?

❥ HI THERE LOVE, yea i've just started becoming more active on tumblr and my love for david has GROWN INTO AN INFATUATION and so all i've been writing is david characters haha! thank you for requesting and i hope these headcanons are okay bc your ask is such a unique one and i don't wanna disappoint AAAAA

abner krill with a s/o that has a symbiote headcanons warnings: mentions of intercourse, this is so short im so sorry i had no ideas SHHSHSH

okay so i feel as though you wouldn’t tell him that you have a symbiote and he didn’t really question anything when you talk to yourself CONSTANTLY, because yk talking to yourself isn’t that abnormal

but when your body starts jolting from one place to another, beyond your own will, abner’s like ok so this isn’t normal?

eventually you tell him and he’s immediately WORRIED ASF BECAUSE EXTRATERRESTRIAL PARASITES THAT BASICALLY ATTACH THEMSELF TO THEIR HOST FOR A LONG TIME??? he already has trauma from his own interdimensional virus so he’s extremely concerned for you

when you explain that it’s completely harmless and that you’re actually really good friends with your symbiote he’s definitely more relieved but still ever-so worried bc that’s our abner <3

it took a lot of convincing for him to not be worried, but it took him even MORE CONVINCING to not freak out when you turn into venom and abner just looks at you with the most terrified look ever or maybe even faint

HE ALSO REALISED THIS WAS WHY YOU ATE SO MUCH GODDAMN CHOCOLATE, bc your symbiote needs chocolate

i feel as though abner would misinterpret your emotions and behaviour at times and think you’re annoyed with him when you’re actually pissed off with your symbiote who keeps saying “FIGHT. EAT CHOCOLATE. FIGHT.” so you definitely need to always tell abner that your aren’t mad at him but rather at the parasite living inside your body

abner definitely finds it a bit weird, possibly uncomfortable, that he’s technically dating your symbiote while he’s dating you, ESPECIALLY WHEN VENOM BUTTS IN AND IS LIKE “stop undressing them with your eyes” AND ABNER WILL START SWEATING AND CRYING LIKE “BUT I’M NOT??????” so yeah

he’ll definitely get bullied a lot by venom and every time he does, you have to comfort abner and just remind him that venom’s just a mean meany pants

venom would definitely remind abner of his mom, but it was alright because he had you to scold venom whenever he would say some whacked up shit

imagine how awkward it is to smush booties(have sex) when venom’s JUST THERE, LIKE ABNER’S ALREADY NERVOUS ABOUT GETTING NAKED AND THERE’S THE PARASITE READY TO GIVE AN INSULTING REMARK ABOUT HIS BODY ANY TIME SOON

honestly, it would be worst for you since you can hear venom in your mind THE WHOLE TIME

after a while, abner will probably get used to having venom around almost every time and will probably maybe have a comeback or two if he ever gets confident enough, and with your encouragement and comfort, he will definitely get more confident

#abner krill #abner krill headcanons #abner krill hcs #abner krill masterlist #abner krill x gn reader #polka dot man #polka dot man hcs #polka dot man x reader #polka dot man headcanons #suicide squad 2 #symbiote #symbiote reader #david dastmalchian #polka dot man masterlist #david dastmalchian masterlist #david dastmalchian x reader #reader with a symbiote #venom

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blackleatherjacketz · 1 year ago

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Forbidden Fruit: Chapter 7

Summary: Jack saves you from a vicious vampire attack and you discover you might be more entangled than you thought.

This Chapter: Alistair's surprise is more than you bargained for.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Mature Content, NSFW, Blood, Violence, Death, Gore, Vampires, Werewolves, Jealousy, Taunting, Threats, Infidelity Villain Monologue

Word Count: 1.4k+

Tags: @skittle479 @bullet-prooflove @acutecupidity @sadndnboii-reads @avatarofseshat @jessicafangirl

Read the rest of the story HERE!

Without thinking, you start to run toward Jack in an effort to free him from his bonds, but you’re immediately cut short by a quick tug of your hair, pulling you backward.

“Ah ah ah!” Alistair scolds, whipping your neck back to face the ceiling as he practically drags your heels across the floor. “Not so fast, little lamb.” He presses his lips against your scalp, inhaling the fear as it practically radiates off you. “Not until I say so.”

“Leave her out of this, Alistair!” You hear your original lover plead between heavy breaths, his chains clinking together as he tries in vain to break free. “Do what you want with me, but let her go.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Alistair grins with delight, each and every one of his sharp teeth glinting in the candlelight as he pulls you toward Jack along with him. “What’s that old colloquialism again, Jack? The forbidden fruit always tastes the sweetest?” He loosens his grip on your hair once there’s barely any space between the three of you, carefully moving a stray strand away from your face before opening his mouth again to speak. “No one tastes quite like her, do they?” His eyes bore into yours, that dangerous draw of his making it impossible for you to look anywhere else as he continues stroking your locks. “And I’m not just talking about her blood.”

You hear Jack growl, the shackles around his wrists jingling as he pulls on them in another futile attempt to escape.

“Oh, you should have seen what we were just up to down the hall.” He pulls his gaze away from you to look at his prisoner, holding his fingers in front of his nose just long enough for him to catch your scent on them before he lets them fall back to his side.

“No,” Jack whimpers in disbelief, shaking his head at the thought. “You didn’t.” He looks at you, pleading for a different story but you’re too ashamed to give him one. Instead you only look at your feet, avoiding any further eye contact as he chooses to address Alistair directly. “You hypnotized her, enchanted her, you had to…”

“Did I?” He winks, leaning in toward him as the harsh truth hangs silently in the air between them. “Maybe she just finally came to her senses,” he smirks, narrowly dodging Jack gnashing his teeth.

“Oh, and you won’t be able to get out those silver chains, Jackie Boy.” He releases you all together, traipsing into the center of the room as he leaves you to your own devices. “Or should I say ‘Jacob’? Jacob Russoff, if my research is correct?” He smirks as he lets that extra bit of information sink in, your brow furrowing in exponential confusion. “I ordered these restraints special off the dark web; pure silver spikes should keep you from even thinking about turning while you’re down here with us.”

“I’m going to kill you, Alistair. As soon as I get out of these, I swear to God, I’m going to tear you apart.” Jack mutters, ignoring Alistair’s rant.

“Not from where I’m standing, you’re not.” He chuckles, glancing at him for a second before looking over at you. “You know, I thought about killing your beau after I found her… I really did. Just as quickly and ruthlessly as you killed Talia, but that just didn’t seem fair.”

Oh God. Oh no! This isn’t about you. This was NEVER about you. You were just a pawn this whole time to hit Jack where it hurt the most. How could you have been so fucking stupid? How could you have been so selfish?

“It would have been so easy,” he starts his villainous monologue by making his way back over to you. “But then I thought of something better, something more devastating to plague you with in your final moments.” He caresses your face and tugs on your bottom lip, entrancing you again. “Something more fun.” He fingers the hem of your silk gown as it dips into your cleavage, pulling it down far enough to expose the top of your nipples. “She looks amazing in this shade of green, don’t you think, Jacob? It really brings out the cooler tones in her skin, because… if I’m being honest… when I’m done with her, that’s all that she’ll have left.”

Jack growls with a fatal mixture of anger jealousy as he watches his adversary touch you, his face changing in shape as fangs and hair grow and shrink from his head before relinquishing back into his original form.

Alistair only laughs at Jack’s failed attempt at transformation, carefully tracing the outline of his first bite on your neck with his fingertips. “Talia and I had been together for centuries… traveling the world, drinking the blood of every man, woman and child in any country we could book passage to. Until you and your little daywalker friend broke into our home when I was out hunting. When I finally got back later that morning, the love of my life, my partner in crime, was reduced to nothing more than a pile of ashes.”

“Please,” Jack pulls again on his restraints, the spikes underneath them now digging into his skin as droplets of blood splash onto the floor. “Please don’t do this, I’m begging you!”

Alistair grabs onto your chin, squeezing it tightly as he forces you to face him. “Talia didn’t have time to beg for her life. So I thought, wouldn’t it be something if I found the love of your life and somehow made her forget all about you? Your romantic history, your cursed nature, the sound of your voice, or even your name?” He pushes the straps of your dress off your shoulders, guiding you out of the cloth that pools at your feet before grazing his palm over your breast.

You can feel your muscles moving under his silent command, every ounce of resistance you try to put up against him failing as your body does exactly as it’s told. His icy cold grasp surrounds your hips and waist as he draws you in to further torment you both against your will, still speaking to Jack as if you aren’t even in the room.

“Do you know how fast she folded? How quickly she ran into my arms as soon as I erased all those memories of you from her mind? Sure, it took me a while to comb through every interaction, to go through her phone while she slept, to delete every trace of you from existence, but it was worth it, Jacob.” He closes his eyes and smiles, reliving that moment for a minute before opening his eyes again.

“I mean I see why you like her, just based on the things she let me do to her,” he cups your breast before pinching your nipple, drawing out a reflexive moan from your lips that widens his smile. “The things she begged me to do to her were absolutely obscene! Honestly, when I looked back on all of her memories of you, I don’t think you ever got as far as I did. Not even close! You never truly understood her on the level she was so desperate to be seen on.” He taunts him as his hand smooths over your neck again, stopping only to softly caress your cheek. “But I think I’ve grown quite fond of her in the process, and I might even keep you alive long enough for you to watch me turn her. I want you to watch her become everything that you hate before the hunger takes over and it’s just you against your blood thirsty girlfriend.”

Before he has a chance to reply, Alistair kisses you deeply, ignoring Jack’s running starts to break his chains out of their metal fasteners in the wall as his frigid arms surround you completely. His cold embrace intensifies as he bombards you with that euphoric feeling from before, flooding your thoughts with images of you and him together in every heated position imaginable before suddenly pulling back.

A dense and deafening silence fills the air like the calm before a storm, forcing the three of you to pause and stare blankly at each other.

The distant sound of gunfire draws his hands completely away from you, breaking the spell that kept you docile and compliant as your eyes shift back over to Jack. Scattered screams and thuds from three stories up muffled by the thick concrete that encases this room only grow louder with the ding of the elevator down the hall. Quick, heavy footsteps increase in speed and volume before the red door finally swings violently open again, barely hanging on by its hinges.

“Took you long enough,” you hear Jack whisper under his breath with a smile.

#Jack Russell #gael garcía bernal #gael garcia bernal #Werewolf By Night #Jack Russell x Female Reader #Jack Russell x Reader #David Dastmalchian #Marvel #david dastmalchian x reader #werewolf by night fan fiction #david dastmalchian fan fiction

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wojcheks · 6 months ago

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High On You — Murdoc x Reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: SFW, established relationship, murdoc being so sickly sweet it will rot your teeth (by his standards), suggestiveness, kissing, reader pronouns not mentioned. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.8k 𝐀/𝐍: part 1? this was supposed to be a longer story with reader and murdoc going on vacation where shenanigans ensue. it may yet happen!! special thanks to @jackdelroys for tormenting me with their murdoc analysis, it makes me deeply unwell and they're extremely talented.

There's an unpleasant churning in your stomach, your nerves, the altitude, or lack of breakfast being the possible cause. Sitting there makes you dizzy, unbearably so, the world spinning like a mockery of a kaleidoscope. You lean your forehead on the seat in front, taking deep breaths in an attempt to alleviate some of the discomfort.

The sensation of sticky sweat clinging to your skin grows more intense, heat seemingly rising within the plane. It’s not often you travel this way, monetary constraints making it unviable, the discomfort caused by being that high up in the air a secondary concern.

Usually, that is. Right now, that part of it feels pretty damn pressing.

Within peripheral vision, you notice passing clouds, white on blue, wisps and blurry shapes moving behind thick glass. They're so close, and yet so far, and you're curious what running a finger through them would feel like.

Probably nothing at all, not even pressure to make known you've hit the target.

A small touch on your wrist snaps your attention back to the present, making you acutely aware of every feeling the sensation brings forward, shattering any thought that isn't Murdoc.

It’s not often that the man next to you approaches anything near hesitant, the way he is now, an interesting mixture of tentativeness and eagerness blending in his expression. The very concept seems very far removed as confidence bows endlessly at his command, the man wielding words akin to a blade, with a sea of self-assurance in tow.

There are many uses for such a thing, and he's proven it times before. On countless occasions, he’d caught you off-guard stating unfiltered thoughts with no holds barred and not batting an eyelid, a toothy grin firmly in place as he described what he’d do to make you squirm.

Even now, simply turning your head to give him attention causes nervous jitters and a growing warmth at the very sight of him, pulling your lips into an intuitive smile. It’s ridiculous how much of an effect a simple glance has, making the world around you grow quieter and sharpening it in certain spots, your focus entirely on Murdoc.

Who is of course already staring.

Unyielding, steadfast, and so fucking intense, sometimes you want to turn away from the scrutiny, feeling pinned under his gaze. But you would never actually leave when he’s holding you there, a feeling soul-deep and impossible to describe making it an unthinkable idea.

He sees you, cuts right through you like it's no hardship at all, peers to the very bottom of your being with ease, and his eyes feel like a hot red knife slashing at your most hidden corners.

It's sunrays disturbing the comfortable darkness in which all your flaws and very worst thoughts hide, illuminating the least worthy part of you and covering it in twin blackness. A reflection of what you wish could die being embraced by someone most important to you with no real judgement attached, only the comfort of understanding.

You think he might feel the same when he looks away after you call him caring, twitches when his words cause laughter to bubble out of you, when you look at him in interest as he tells a story, don’t react with disgust when he says something that would unsettle anyone else.

You know he feels the same when you press a kiss to the bottom of his jaw and he closes his eyes, looking for all the world like he’s having a revelation.

Murdoc lets his guard down around you, allows you to see the things he’s not shown a breathing soul before, bared before you in all that he is, and you look right at him and say it's all alright, it's okay, I understand.

Sometimes it hurts. Sometimes it's too much. Sometimes you grimace and it's not alright, but for him, just for him, it will have to be.

The aftermath makes it all worth living for.

You could never give it up.

Oh, and now his face shifts into something knowing, as if you’re being obvious, blatant in all your endless sentiment, and he tilts his head just so, displacing a strand of hair. It no doubt tickles him, but he doesn't show it, he never does, stone-faced bastard when he wants to be.

And you’d call his current expression smug except there’s a layer of fondness swimming in his eyes, this gentle, affectionate embrace he has you in, without ever having to move his arms.

“What are you thinking about, darling?"

It’s not obvious, the singular way he looks at you, not for everybody else to see. But you're aware of it when his body moves closer, unconsciously drifting into your space, being pulled into orbit by your gravitational pull. Aware of how deliberate he is in keeping an eye out, keeping you safe and under his protection.

You thought it would feel uncomfortable, that kind of care, his hand on the small of your back, gloves brushing over your cheek, over your wrist, over your pulse point with the practiced ease of a man trained to kill. You thought it would feel like too much, to be treated like something remarkable, something he could never replace.

But when he quietly admits, the two of you pressed together beneath satin sheets, the comforting cover of darkness making words come easier, how his hands shook when he realized he never wants to let you go, you understand it was never the enormousness of his devotion that made you terrified. It was the possibility of it ending.

You used to wonder, every time he'd leave for a job, if it'll be the last time you ever see him.

His silhouette disappearing behind a corner; doors closing with a click; the sound of a car engine growing fainter until all you could hear was the sound of your breathing. The deep breaths you took to stave off the panic.

There was no way for you to see his hands gripping the steering wheel harder as he fought the urge to turn the car around, the frown lines growing deeper whenever he left you behind.

Murdoc, heart on a shattered platter.

It's strange how easy it is to care about him now.

“Feeling alright there?” he asks, the tone of his voice underlined with a melodic quality.

He sounds relaxed, and the effect gets amplified by the more casual attire he has on, a well-fitting black turtleneck splayed over his chest, dark jeans in place of the usual leather pants.

You are back there with him, aching thoughts forgotten, and realize you never answered his previous question. Heaving a sigh, you go with honesty. “No, not really. I'm panicking already and it will only get worse–...”

The sentence trails off as his hand moves lower on your arm, warm leather tracing a tendon, then your veins, then the tender skin of your palm, until it gets to trembling fingers.

He wraps his hand around them, putting gentle pressure at first and then a little bit more, a testing sort of strain, as if he’s checking just how long it takes until you flinch. There's nothing violent about it, and you let him, dark eyes taking your face in greedily, not looking away for even a moment.

You know that he isn't trying to hurt you.

You steel your face however, knowing he's looking for a reaction and unwilling to give it.

A few more seconds pass until it’s enough for him, grip relaxing, stare drifting down as his fingers loosely envelop yours once more. He caresses the redness on your knuckles slowly, methodically, watching it disappear with a small satisfied grin at having made it appear in the first place.

A small mumble of “pretty…” escapes his lips, so quiet it seems unintentional, as though thoughts are compacted in his brain so tightly one falls through unbidden.

You’re distracted now, anxiety forgotten; you observe the way he relaxes into the seat, running his forefinger over your knuckles the entire time, rhythmically, almost like he can feel the heat of your skin even through the barrier of leather and is looking for more of it. You’re comforted by the sensation, used to it by now, seeking out his touch where you can get it.

Murdoc’s eyes are stuck on your entwined hands, watching in avid interest bordering on fascination, as if touching you is the most important thing he could be doing at that moment.

It makes your heart ache, how enraptured he is with you, entirely taken with the smallest of things, even when all you're doing is simply existing.

You have to let him know just how deeply you care about him.

“I... really hate you,” is what comes out.

Your fingers tighten around his, pressing your love into his body wordlessly. Murdoc's eyes light up in amusement, not letting your hand go.

"I don’t hate you, sweetheart.”

The way his voice deepens makes you want to drag him into the nearest bathroom and lock the door. Not sure the other passengers would appreciate that, but you’re also not sure you give a shit.

"Maybe you should," you jokingly add instead, trying to keep the yearning out of your voice.

“Oh, sweets, I could never," his smile grows wider as he speaks, shooting right through your attempt at humor. "What did my favorite person ever do to deserve it?"

You kick your leg out into the seat in front of you before realizing someone probably felt that. Murdoc’s fault.

"Mh, well, I can always hope," you grumble under your nose, then lean over the armrest, twisting your torso uncomfortably to make room for unwieldy elbows.

Murdoc watches with a raised eyebrow until you reach out, pressing your hand to the side of his face. It's a miniscule difference, but he stiffens, even the smallest of microexpressions freezing for a moment.

Then, within the space of a breath, whatever tension remained in his body dissipates, relaxing into it.

He hums thoughtfully, pretending to ponder your words, a sense of dulled awareness making his thoughts more sluggish, the rare sense of solace he gets around you a shock to his senses.

"Keep touching me and I might consider it," he murmurs at last, eyes half-closed. His chest rises steadily with every breath and you long to splay your fingers over the center of it, to feel the warm skin and flowing blood beneath it, every movement of his beating heart.

"Well, I think you're bluffing so I won't pull my hand away," you answer with an embarrassingly sappy smile, entirely too wrapped up in him to school your expression.

Murdoc makes an offended noise, all the while leaning closer toward you in the seat. His hand lands on your knee as he does, grasping at the material possessively, the silent ask contradicting his next words.

"When have I ever asked for affection?" His nose wrinkles unhappily. “Unthinkable.”

Examples come flooding into your mind, starting with the particularly embarrassing instance of Murdoc stumbling into your room unannounced. He's clearly delirious with exhaustion after days of travel, crusted blood in the corner of his mouth and matted down the front of his neck, every step he takes a struggle, and he collapses into bed, demanding to be held.

“Let’s say… how about that time you were practically begging me for a hug?”

Murdoc flinches at the first few words, already knowing what you're about to say.

"And I recall you even said "pretty please", weren't you just so nice, bab—"

He presses his palm over your mouth, effectively shutting you up. "I think you have the wrong guy, sweetie. Doesn't sound like me you’re talking about, nuh-uh."

You know the teasing is getting to him by the way his fingers twitch against your cheek, an involuntary reaction to bouts of heightened emotion. They rest on flushed skin, manicured nails lightly pressing down, leaving small moon-shaped imprints behind.

For a few seconds, you glare at him, met only with a relentless pressure, and any attempts at shaking him off end in failure to the man’s visible amusement. Finally, you grumble unhappily, rolling your eyes so hard they hurt, and relax into his grip.

Some slyness returns to Murdoc’s features when you accept your fate, eyes darkening as he leans another inch closer. "Well, isn't this just way nicer, dear? Cozy, quiet, how very pleasant for me—"

Keeping deliberate eye-contact, you bite down on his middle finger, just hard enough so he feels it. He lets out a startled breath, interrupting the taunt as it was being said. There’s satisfaction in seeing him caught off-guard, no matter how little it actually affected him. You were not above admitting delight at the way his eyes widen whenever you surprise him.

“If you wanted me to let go, you could have just said so," he answers finally, the big liar that he is, moving his hand away.

Cutting the banter off, you close the gap between you, pressing a kiss into his lips.

They part immediately and move against you, softness in the motions, but with an intensity that accompanies everything Murdoc does. He shudders, clear enjoyment at having you so close and all his. His hand goes to the back of your head, long fingers grasping and caressing it, unsatisfied with only one point of contact.

He shuts his eyes tight, mind quieting into low background noise, taking in your presence, your smell, something fresh, like crisp laundry, a familiar undertone that he's grown used to. Whenever he holds you he finds it’s easy to just be and enjoy the way you move, your hand on his shoulder, your mouth chasing after him, tangible proof of how much you want him.

You squirm slightly when he bites down on your lower lip, not breaking skin, only gently teasing the flesh.

He pulls away with a chuckle and you slap his shoulder with a disgruntled expression, stomach fluttering from the way he’s looking at you, eyes alight and eager.

Looking away to take a breath, you can’t stop a giggle. “Would you please just stop teasing?”

"Do you really want me to do that?" The tone is flat, but his eyes betray just how serious he is.

You hesitate, possibilities of wandering hands and heated kisses running through your head at a rapid pace. You can almost feel it, Murdoc's touch just where you want it.

You're in a plane, you're in a plane, you're in a plane. With a short shake of your head, you pull away.

Murdoc presses a hand to his chest and sighs loudly. “So you dish it out but can’t take it, huh? No no, I get it, I’m a lot to handle. Would you rather I shut up completely? I can shut up.”

Your silence is answer enough and he huffs out a breath, “Okay, fine, that’s not true. But why would I ever want to stop talking to my darling flower?”

“Maybe so I could have some peace?” You offer up, but he knows that’s a lie, knows how much you love to hear him speak.

“Noooo, I don’t think that’s right,” his smile grows even wider, eyes crinkling in the corners and around his mouth, small wrinkles spattering the planes of fair skin.

It makes him look older, more his age, youthfulness of being contrasted with the marks of time.

A mosaic of miniscule scars peppers his skin, only a few standing out harshly under the overhead light, most of them faded and translucent looking. It's a map that you know the layout of intimately, vast layers upon layers of history written into his skin by means of violence.

You know what they feel like under your fingertips, having traced them again and again, your head on his shoulder after a long day at work, barely audible whispers filling the space between you two.

Then there's patching up myriads of cuts after a mission gone wrong, closing the more gaping wounds and tending to smaller abrasions with salve; afterwards it's checking his temperature when a fever wracks his body, hand pressed to burning flesh, worry shooting through you alarmingly at how bad it's gotten, not calmed down in the slightest by the man's assurances that he's peachy and ready to shoot the fucker who did this; in the end it's lips moving over them as he gasps your name out, pressing kiss after kiss into the crevices of old battle marks, giggling when you manage to tickle him.

Murdoc grins, "I think you're happy to have me."

He looks so pretty you turn away.

The truth in his words rings loud and clear, and you're defeated, entirely unwilling to argue further. Denying doesn't even feel right when all you want is to be with him.

Enveloping his hand again, you close your eyes, waiting for the plane to land.

He holds it there for the rest of the flight, not letting go even when you give into exhaustion, a small smile dancing on his lips the entire time, watching you fondly, his favourite.

You find that with him right there, you could want nothing more.

#murdoc x reader #david dastmalchian #dennis murdoc #murdocposting #macgyver 2016 #no plot just reader and murdoc being so deeply in love it makes them act stupid

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holmesandtheroman · 5 months ago

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"The Empty Place Where Love Should Be" Masterpost

For anyone who wants the links to my Abner Krill x Fem!Reader fic, here is a complete masterpost for all current chapters. I will update here as needed. Enjoy!!

(Also, if you are new to this fic, PLEASE take heed to the warnings. If there are any that I do not list that should be on here, don't hesitate to send me an ask and I will fix it.)

Warnings: Abuse, Abusive Parents, Mentions of Abuse, Abusive Language, Angst, Self-Esteem Issues, Past Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

And if you want the link to the AO3 version of this fic, you can find it HERE.

#the suicide squad #abner krill #abner krill x reader #polka dot man #polka dot man x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #dceu #david dastmalchian #tepwlsb #holmesandtheroman #fic masterpost

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strang3lov3 · 1 month ago

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While on air, you’re hiding under Jack’s desk, startling him when you touch his thighs. Raking your nails up and down the soft fabric of his pants. Jack has to keep it together when you undo his belt and pull out his cock, stroking it to its full hardness before taking him down your throat. Jack’s struggling to keep it together, sweating, twitching, jerking in his seat. Guests are confused, Jack coughs and apologizes gracefully, ‘Just feeling a bit under the weather, is all’. He forces a smile to the audience. You tease him like this for a while before you make him come once, then twice, overstimulating him. A mess of spit and spend in his dark pubic hair. He kicks you under the desk. Enough. But Jack can’t fight the little moans bubbling up in his chest, and he drinks glass after glass of water to distract himself, hands shaking, it’s all dribbling down his chin. You’re teasing him again, and the show cannot be moving any slower. When Night Owls ends and the studio clears, Jack drags you into his dressing room and bends you over the couch, then fucks you apart. Hitting, choking, growling in your ear. If you do this again, sweetheart, and I’ll give them all a real show. Is that what you want? To be on national television, sucking Jack fucking Delroy’s cock?

#is this anything #do I write this in full #Jack delroy #jack delroy x reader #Jack delroy smut #david dastmalchian characters #late night with the devil

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accidentally-in-fictional-love · 7 months ago

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Susceptible - Jack Delroy/Reader

Warnings: Fully clothed grinding, very slight dirty talk, very light exhibitionism in a sense, no use of Y/N, female-hinted reader because of skirt/makeup mentions but other than that there's no real gender mention.

Wordcount: 4950

Summary: You spent a small fortune getting a ticket to Carmichael Haig's show on the promise of his new act showing his audience something the world has never seen before, as well as the possible attendance of one Jack Delroy, but will two hours of bullshit be worth the risk?

Notes: There is SO MUCH BUILDUP I'm so sorry I'm so weak for worldbuilding and plot I swear the other one I have planned will be shorter OTL I have never written a reader before but I am a huge fan of them, especially the DDverse ones I've been binging oop, so I hope this is a good first attempt! It's been a few years since I've written anything like this and probably a good decade or so since I last posted anything, so here's hoping I post more in the upcoming future~ This is also completely unbetaed so if you see any mistakes please let me know <3 The Manhattan Center is also real but didn't fit my needs entirely so I mashed it together with the theatre I went to as a kid lol

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Carmichael Haig was back in town and you had no idea why you were here.

He had left for what felt like both forever and not nearly long enough for a few months to do his tour, seeing his smug face everywhere you looked between both digital and paper news and making your distaste grow a little more each time. You had been fond of his trickery for a time, but his move from magic man to skeptic had sucked all the fun out of the act, his determination to not only find the real but humiliate the fakes way past annoying to straight up sickening to you by this point. Tonight’s show proved to be another big presentation of the latter you’d decided when it’d been announced officially, promoted by your favourite talk show host - and current celebrity crush - Jack Delroy; his smile was wide for the cameras but it didn’t reach his eyes, you could always tell between them by now and he did not seem to be as pleased as the two talked about it that night.

‘I’m going to show the world something they’ve never seen before,’ Carmichael had said, his usual smug look in place as he hammed it up for the cameras like he could really pull that off, Jack running with it like the patron saint of patience he had to be.

‘Big talk, you sure I can’t convince you to give our wonderful audience a taste tonight?’ he asked, the crowd cheering at the mere thought of getting to experience his new act an entire month early, but if there was even an iota of temptation within him to share he hid it perfectly. He waved the offer away to everyone’s disappointment, Jack pouting on everyone’s behalf and putting those big eyes on display as his own plea; the ratings, you imagined, would be wonderful for a segment like this when his show was already starting to slip down the line, but even that was no use.

‘You’ll all get a chance to see it on the 13th,’ he promised them as he turned to face the audience, the place and date scrolling across the bottom of the screen yet again, they’d been flashing it every single time it was mentioned to the point where you were sure you’d see it in your sleep tonight, rolling across the bottom half of your dream. ‘Or, those of you who’ve been able to get your tickets will, we’re selling out fast,’ he smirked with a tip of his glass, yet another thing that’d been brought up and hammered home; you’d gone to the Manhattan Center to check a couple days ago, just out of curiosity, the ticket price absolutely ridiculous to the point that you were convinced they’d never sell out, but now you guessed your distaste of him wasn’t as widespread as you’d secretly hoped.

Jack slapped his leg in mock disappointment, Carmichael looking back to him at the sound. ‘Guess you’ll have to tell me all about it the next time you’re back in town, I had asked Gus to pick one up for me but it seems he missed that call,’ he joked, Gus’ surprise at the blame of his absence being placed on him getting a big laugh as his face fell and he tried to explain himself.

Carmichael placed an understanding hand on Jack’s shoulder and leaned in closer, the other man leaning in in return as if to receive some kind of secret. ‘Well then, it’s a good thing my date canceled on me,’ he retorted, and when he pulled his hand back he revealed a ticket, Jack’s eyes going wide as he accepted the gift with a big smile, pointing to it before shaking Carmichael’s hand with a thanks.

Ah, so that was why you were here again.

You knew you’d never be able to get a seat on Night Owls because the thought of Jack seeing you in the crowd made you blush all the way to your shoulders, even on your bravest of nights you hadn’t been able to even call and see if there were any tickets left, but to maybe share an audience with him? To sit in the same room as him where you could steal glances if you were able to find him, with no risk whatsoever of him catching the way your eyes lit up when you looked at that handsome face, that dangerously attractive body? That was doable.

It had cost an arm and a leg to convince that scalper to hand over one of the tickets he was parading around outside the Center, but it was worth it as you stepped inside, your heart racing because, unless he wanted to risk the aftermath of Carmichael calling him out for not going, he was here; somewhere in this building was the man you’d been dreaming about since his debut a few years ago, the one you watched nearly every night without fail just for that hour where he looked at you, talked to you, noticed you even if it was through a camera, and that was all you’d needed until tonight.

You’d gotten a pretty shitty seat despite the price but you didn’t mind, it actually worked out for you considering you weren’t actually there to see the show but to look for someone in the seats in front of you, and you hoped that you’d be able to spot him from where you were in the far back corner. As long as he wasn’t, say, the exact opposite of you then you probably stood a chance of at least a glance, since his ticket came from Carmichael himself you guessed that it was probably close to the front if not front row center just to mess with him and prove that he’d come, and you felt all the hair rise on your arms and neck when Carmichael walked on stage early to very loudly greet someone who’d just walked in.

There he was, leaving his seat to meet the other man in the middle, and he was so much further than you expected but it was still him, big smile in place, hair perfectly combed, his crisp suit being wrinkled by Carmichael’s hands as he gave him a showy hug, and he was beautiful. You froze in the middle of the row, unable to finish the walk as your eyes stayed on him, the people trying to get by you not as starstruck as they attempted to squeeze past when you ignored their presence.

‘Sorry,’ you murmured as you sat as fast as you could, eyes still trained on him as he waved to the crowd to prove that yes, he did honour the gift and was there to see this big new act he’d been promised. You let out an embarrassingly needy whine when he sat back down and you became unable to see him again, the mass of bodies behind him obscuring all but a sliver of the back of his head from this angle, and you’d be damned if you had to spend the next 2 hours stuck like this at a Carmichael Haig show of all things. The person at the end of the row finally arrived and you made your move, hurrying down and taking one last glance before getting ready to make this whole thing a little more bearable. ‘Excuse me,’ you nearly stuttered as the person, a man older than yourself who definitely gave off the air of being a Carmichael fan, looked up at you, ‘would you want to trade seats with me? I was really looking forward to the show but I was too late to grab an aisle seat.’

It’s a blatant lie but the quick glance from before proved that you could see him better from there, and the chance of getting to look at him for the next two hours was worth the look the man gave you at the request.

‘Which one are you?’ he asked, looking down to the few empty spaces still waiting for their owners, and you pulled out your ticket to double check, seeing that it was R51; wow, you didn’t realize how far away R was from A until you saw it firsthand. He looked back down to your seat and considered it, looking you over midthought when he thought you weren’t looking, and he almost got away with it if not for the fact that you felt his eyes on you. ‘$100,’ he decided, the offer knocking the wind right out of you.

‘What? The seat was already $350,’ you choke, giving away the fact that you were really, really late to the party.

‘Take it or leave it, I had the sense to order on time,’ is all he says to that, and you looked back at your possible view before sighing heavily and reaching for your wallet; goddamnit, Jack, if only he knew how worth it he was. You hand over the money and step aside, the man pocketing his fee and leaving the seat for you as promised, and the view is just barely better but there he is again, perfectly in view due to what can only be a miracle, the hole in your wallet feeling a little less big as you watched him turn his head to talk to someone, giving you a perfect side view.

He really was handsome, captivating even from this distance, and you swoon a little as the audience finished filling out, the lights dimming and obscuring your view a little more save the grace of the stage lights that illuminate him from the front as Carmichael walked back out on stage and started the show. You’d never been one for spacing out but you couldn’t take your eyes off him, the $450 price tag of this shitty aisle seat all for him and not feeling so bad even as Carmichael charms everyone around you. He didn’t look to the side that often, you guessed he didn’t actually know his neighbour since the seat was a gift, but the times that he did, where he laughed or sighed at the theatrics or even put his face in his hand because he wasn’t having too much fun, were all cataloged away in your head forever, the perfect souvenirs to last you a lifetime of home viewing after this.

At about an hour in according to your old watch, Jack looked about ready to get up and find any reason to leave, which you couldn’t blame him for, the acts themselves were pretty damn good you realized in the times you actually paid attention, but it was getting so tiring to see Carmichael explain away all of their tricks, to see the joy leave their faces at being called a fraud or having all their mysteries revealed, and it was clear Jack felt the same down in row A. After a particularly rough walk-off from a woman who was trying very desperately to convince Carmichael that she could really read his mind and ending up with the humiliating reality that everything he answered to was false to get her to out herself, you noticed that when you looked back to his seat that Jack isn’t there, and you were in the middle of wondering where he went when the person coming up the aisle came into view so suddenly that it took your breath away.

It was Jack, his brow twitching slightly to keep a neutral face, his footsteps heavy as he tried not to stomp and draw attention to the fact that that last one really pissed him off, his hands already reaching into his suit pocket for something. You tried not to stare the closer he got but it was hard, years of being able to look all you want training your brain to look look look as he approached, and you forced yourself to stare straight ahead at the stage as he reached you. Your hands were clenched tight in your lap as he went to pass row R, and you were in the middle of thinking you were going to make it when he fumbled the small box in his pocket and dropped it with a low curse, the cigarettes he apparently smoked bouncing to the side and coming to a stop between your recently shined shoes.

Your head snapped down so fast you felt it in your neck as he came to a stop beside you, the two of you locating the box at the same time, and you stiffened as he reached for it before realizing how rude that would be despite his own sour mood. ‘I’m sorry, could I bother you for a second,’ he asked, his smile back in place despite being a bit tense, and you stuttered out a confirmation as you leaned down to pick them up.

‘I didn’t know you smoked,’ you blurted out before you could stop yourself, Jack’s hand frozen in midair as he reached for the box, his smile relaxing a little as he looked from your hand to your face.

‘Did I find myself a Night Owl in this sea of skeptics?’ he wondered aloud, your cheeks brightening in a way that really made you pray it was dark enough not to notice.

‘I wanted to see what all the fuss was about,’ you lie, and he crouched down so he could hear your whispers as the crowd reacted to the next act.

‘I take it you’re also not very impressed,’ he figured, hitting the nail on the head based on your expression alone. He chuckled at your silent confirmation and looked back down to the cigarettes, his fingertips just barely touching yours as you both held it, you didn’t even know when he’d grabbed it and you let go before it got awkward, but he didn’t seem to notice. ‘Well, if you don’t tell my producer that I’m smoking again, then I won’t tell Haig that you didn’t like his show, deal?’

You sucked in a breath as he moved the box to his left hand, offering up his right for a handshake this time to seal the deal, your heart pounding as you shook on it, his smile more genuine than you’d seen all night, you could always tell. He stood back up as the act finished and Carmichael went back to his disproving, his mood dropping again as his need to escape rearose. You both offered a look of disdain at the stage before he stood back up to move again, something stopping him midstep before he turned on his heel and leaned back down to you, a shiver running down your spine at how close he was so he could be heard.

‘Have you ever been to one of my shows?’ he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice, his warm breath accidentally hitting your neck and rendering you unable to do anything but glance at him and shake your head no. ‘You’d have a much better time, I’ve got some great stuff coming up,’ he pitched, either completely unaware of your predicament or just used to people acting like this around him, either way he didn’t react when your eyes couldn’t help but flicker down to watch him lick his lips so fast you almost missed it. ‘The next one’s already booked up but if you go down to the studio and give them this card, you should be able to get a spot for a night you’re free, I'd like to see you there.’

He pulled out his wallet and grabbed a business card, flipping it around to the blank side on the back before resting it on the arm of the chair. A pen was found next, and he scribbled a quick note to the ticket seller on it on your behalf, signing it and handing it over with that big showman smile of his. You took it and placed it in your own wallet, the previous hole instantly filled with its presence, his mood clearly raised by the interaction as he wished you a quick goodbye and resumed his journey outside, oblivious to the fact that you were about to disrupt the entire theater if you didn’t find a place to scream and fast.

You gave him a few minutes to reach the doors before jumping to your feet and making for the bathroom, your heels clickclacking on the tile the entire way until you found the correct door. The place was empty, which was great because once you caught sight of yourself you knew that it was bad enough he saw you this way, no one else should get the pleasure; your face was redder than you’d ever seen it, your pupils blown from the exchange and you could’ve sworn you could actually see yourself shaking you were buzzing so hard, your grin so wide anyone else would’ve assumed that Santa had just given you the toy you’d always wanted for Christmas early.

You tried to calm yourself as you ripped off some paper towels and dampened them, patting them against your cheeks and neck to bring your body temperature back down to a normal person’s, carefully avoiding your makeup that you were thankful you spent the time putting on just on the ultra rare off chance you’d run into him. When you were ready to go back - and after a quick internal debate on whether you should try and meet him outside for another, less hushed conversation already - you made sure to calm your breathing before heading back out there, taking a quick moment to look for him before making the trek back to your seat.

When you got back you noticed that no new act was on, Carmichael already talking to the audience and projecting himself up on the screens for all to see, you rolling your eyes as you collapsed into the rich red velvet and preparing for more of his bullshit until Jack returned, if he felt like it that was. Everyone around you was concentrating on his words, staring right ahead as the theater fell silent save for his voice and the sound of a ticking clock; ah, he was trying to hypnotize everyone, that must’ve been his big final act that he’d promised his audience. You weren’t impressed, you’d tried to be hypnotized before at a party in your youth, it hadn’t worked then so it wasn’t going to work now you knew, so you sat back and prepared to at least enjoy whatever he was going to make the audience do.

Your thoughts went back to Jack as Carmichael’s voice slowly got drowned out, the ticking a bit louder in your ears despite the distance, but you didn’t mind because it was nonsense anyway, ‘Now who’s the skeptic,’ you think to yourself as you sink deeper into your chair. You vaguely heard the words, ‘Your greatest desire,’ in your ear before you felt a hand on your shoulder, your eyes leaving the stage to travel up until you saw Jack standing just behind you in the aisle, his smile from before now more like a smirk as he motioned towards the doors like he wanted you to follow him.

You looked back at the stage as Carmichael invited someone from the audience up to stand with him, some poor hypnotized fool who was bound to be humiliated along with everyone else who stood with him tonight, and you decided that you’d rather not see that again before standing and following Jack. There was a small hallway between the theater and the doors on that side of the back wall, the two of you out of view from everyone else but Carmichael’s voice still reaching, and you were about to wonder if he was leading you outside to just leave or talk when he turned and pushed you against the wall with a muffled thud. Your back met cold paint as your chest met with his, your eyes locking as he cornered you where no one could see, a confidence he saved for the cameras now focused solely on you as he looked you over the same way you’d done to him a thousand times over.

‘I couldn’t wait for you to come to my show,’ he whispered, his voice impossibly low as he held you in place, a knee parting yours and making you gasp, ‘you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.’

‘You’re just telling me what I wanna hear,’ you managed to get out, his eyes closing as he leaned in to grin against your cheek.

‘Is it working?’

You didn’t dare answer but you might as well have because your silence was enough to spur him into action, your head falling back against the wall as he started to kiss your neck, your hands grasping at anything because this was crazy. The man you’d wanted for years was kissing you not even 30ft away from a room full of people, anyone could come around the corner at any second and catch you, and you bit your lip at the thrill of it all. You’d had dreams like this before, ones that left you panting into your pillow when you awoke, but the real thing was so much better as he sucked a mark into your soft skin, your hand leaving his arm to cover your mouth lest you alert anyone within hearing distance to your current predicament.

You let him do as he pleased, let him ran his hands over your sides and down to the edge of where your lifted skirt was resting against his thigh, your legs shaking as your body tried not to grind against him; it was only due to him holding you that kept you standing as a matter of fact and he seemed fully aware of it as his nails scratched softly against your bare leg. He seemed to love all your reactions to what he did, he was in the entertainment business after all, every noise of approval that slipped through your fingers must’ve been like music to his ears but you had to hold back no matter how much you wanted to indulge him. Being denied what he wanted only made him work harder for it, the assault on your neck moving to your shoulder and collarbone instead of your covered lips, your mouth watering for just a taste as he started to move against you, one hand pulling your waist away from the wall by your lower back as the other moved up and under your skirt.

The first grind of his body against yours was decadent, you swore you could feel it in your soul the way he wanted you just as much as you’d wanted him, like he’d been watching you back through the screen for years and also craved this very moment, and now that he was getting it he wasn’t going to stop, you didn’t want him to stop. You’d never seen him act anything like this before in all his years on TV, a greedy flash of excitement running through you at getting to see such a new side of him quickly overcome by pleasure as he cupped your ass and pulled you even closer. You knew you couldn’t get undressed here, if you’d made it to the bathroom then maybe he’d be doing more but he hadn’t lasted even that long, but even with that desire being restrained you still wanted him here and now. Never in your life had you been this desperate for release but he was bringing out a demon inside of you that desired and needed and wanted so much that you were willing to throw your modesty out the fucking window for just a second of his hot skin pressed against your own, but this would have to do while the show still went on.

‘Jack…’ you moaned as your hand, moist from your panting, gripped his arm once again, Carmichael’s voice getting louder in the distance as you grew closer to your release.

‘Come home with me,’ he begged into your ear, his movements getting rougher as he also grew close, you knew you’d both have to leave before everyone saw you but it was worth it, god it was so worth it. ‘I want to have you all to myself, I need to taste you-’

You bit your lip and led his face away from your neck so you could look into his eyes, his mouth parted as he tried to control his own panting, he was coming apart at the seams for you right here in the hallway, the ticking in your ears either your heartbeat or a clock far away. You moaned his name again as you felt the heat build in your stomach, your back arching and pushing your body into him even more as the door to your right opened.

‘Dreamer, here, awake!’

All at once your knees gave out and you collapsed to the floor before that final wave could push you over the edge, your head heavy and your vision swimming as the body against yours vanished into nothing. ‘Are you okay? What happened?’ Jack’s voice from above asked as his worried expression came into view, the smell of rain and cigarette smoke invading your senses; the sound of the audience in a similar state of confusion drifted around the corner as Jack crouched down next to you, just back inside from his break from the show, the realization that you weren’t as immune to hypnosis as you’d thought hitting you like a bucket of cold water. You just panted in shock, surprise, and waning lust as Jack looked you over in concern, your hands moving to pull the bottom of your skirt down to cover your exposed legs in embarrassment, the scratches you were so certain he’d left behind not there, because he hadn’t been there.

‘I’m fine,’ you force yourself to say after you’d caught your breath, Jack believing you but still helping you to your feet like a gentleman, of course he would never act that way, that was only how you’d wanted him to act, you’d had dreams like that for god’s sake, the real Jack would never-

‘Is the show over?’ he asked as the roar of people applauding overtook the chatter, Carmichael now silent, and you avoided his eye as you started to edge towards the way out.

‘I think so.’

‘What was the big mind-blowing act?’

You put a little distance between yourself and him but he didn’t notice, Jack heading for the corner so he could look at the stage as he waited for your reply. ‘He hypnotized everyone,’ you answered curtly, his reaction big and full of surprise as he looked over the size of the crowd in an awe that wasn’t present for the first hour and a half.

‘Everyone? You should’ve come found me, I would’ve loved to see that.’ He was still looking at the room beyond, your eyes on him as he watched everyone else.

‘I got a little overwhelmed,’ you mumble, and he finally looked at you with that same concerned expression again, and it’s too much after what you’d just thought you’d seen, your eyes finding the floor.

‘What did he make you see?’ he asked, his curiosity quiet but still there under the concern, but you couldn’t answer him. ‘Do you need a ride home, or are you okay to drive?’

He’s too kind, he would never act that way, he would never say that to you.

‘I took a cab, I’ll be fine,’ you tried to say, but still you quickly found yourself being led to the front door as the audience swarmed around you, his hand on your back to make sure you stayed standing, a true gentleman. It had started raining while you were inside which explained the scent pairing with the smoke that covered up his cologne, and you just stood under the marquee as he hailed a cab for you as the sea of skeptics washed around you like rushing water. You hopped inside but he didn’t shut the door right away, leaning down in the rain once you were seated, and for a moment you wondered if he was going to get in when he spoke.

‘I do hope you come to my show, preferably Friday’s, it’s gunna be a good one, I promise,’ he said with that big genuine smile again, your heart pounding as your cheeks glowed red for a reason other than embarrassment as you gave him a small nod.

‘I’ll be there,’ you promised back, and he tapped the roof of the cab before shutting the door and letting you go. You looked out the back window as you drove away, the both of you waving as he ducked back inside and out of the rain, and as soon as you turned back around to face forward you found yourself reaching for your wallet. His card was in your hands as you looked it over, all in all it was an uninspiring, plain business card, and you flipped it over to read what he wrote for the ticketmaster on the back.

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

Your cheeks turned red again as you put the card away, the cab driver giving you a look in the rearview mirror as you held your nearly empty wallet, now with one business card, to your thumping chest. Oh yeah, it definitely was all worth it after all.

#Ray's Readers #david dastmalchian #jack delroy #jack delroy x reader #would you believe I wrote this over a few hours listening to a dramatic cover of Dear God cause I loved the vibes lmao #completely wrong vibes but it's SUCH a good cover guys #it's pretty tame for this one but yeah full disclosure there's probably gunna be lots of hands focus in my writings #his are Beautiful and Perfect and Very Attractive and I am W E A K okay

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