#tdotj

[simp-ly-writes]

The Assassin's Wife

─────── · · A 'Day of the Jackal' (TV series) FanFic

Pairing: Charles "Jackal" Calthrop x Wife!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: To put it simply, you are the wife of Charles Calthrop having met him at a work event over a decade ago, your romance was story-book perfection up until when you learned he kills people for a living...

─ · · TAGS: second person perspective used, female-pronouns used, fluff and angst, scenes of stalking, blood, violence, injury, guns, and obsessive behaviours, hurt/comfort, arguments, swearing, lying, kissing, the Jackal being a ultra charismatic mf, Marissa (OC), not beta read.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 5,570

─ · · A/N: post number 300! woohoo! soo... I kinda really loved this ask and wrote a whole bunch for it. Be ready for some fluff, angst, and then fluff again!

─────── · ·

─ · · You had been married to your husband, Charles, for well over a decade now. You had met him while attending a work event overseas, your job always had you traveling keeping you from starting any longterm relationships up until you met Charles that faithful night.

─ · · You remember the deep navy blue suit he wore with a light blue dress-shirt underneath. His accessories were silver and by the family signet ring on his finger, you knew him to be coming from wealth and to your surprise as he greeted you with a kiss to the back of your palm, he made his empire himself as he described to you over a few too many glasses at the bar.

─ · · Charles swept you off your feet that night with his lingering looks on your lips, the way he gently held your hand, interlacing your fingers before pulling you outside and to a cab. You remember his touch trailing up your thigh as you gasped at the back of the cab before clearing your throat and placing your head against his shoulder... much like the position you found yourself in currently as you watched your husband sleep, his arm snuggly around your side, head against his bare chest as you traced the various scars across it with curiosity.

Your husband explained to you the multitude of stories on how he obtained each scar and warp of skin as you kissed everyone the same; with love and attention as he had shown you. You simply adored how hard working he was, always away and coming back with that necklace you were eyeing in the market or a surprise vacation. But you couldn't help but miss him, want him with you, and you didn't know if that was selfish of you or not to want him with you constantly when he provided for you with utmost dedication.

─ · · But after so many years of gifts and hugs at the airport as you waved him goodbye. You felt lonely sitting in the parking lot wondering the next time you would see your husband and quite frankly, all of your friends told you he was most likely cheating on you by how often and long he was away without messaging or calling you.

You always waved away their concerns for your wellbeing as you took care of the estate, went to work for a few hours of the day before busying yourself with random hobbies and studying various topics for the off chance Charles would bring it up in conversation during one of his work rants, you liked to call them. Remembering the weight of his head in your lap, the feeling of his soft golden curls running through your fingers as he said every time, without fault, "I'd much rather be here with you, my love." But did he ever fall through with those words? no. But you loved your husband regardless.

─ · · You would always pick him up form the airport when he called the night before, waiting in a sundress with drinks and snacks ready in the car for the long ride back. Charles would place his large hand on your knee as you drove, charming you endlessly with his commentary the whole ride home, "I was beginning to forget just how beautiful you were, had to come back." "What an angel, you are. My guardian angel just meant for me." "You look as raidient as the sun in that dress, my love." "Remind me to kiss you with the same desperation I feel now when we stop."

And like clockwork, you would flush under his loving stare and words before being pulled into bed in an outward display of his love that would leave your legs weak in the morning and him bringing you both up breakfast in bed before presenting you another gift.

You held a tight smile while accepting the gift this time, not wanting to seem ungrateful yet your heart desired the non-material... and it seemed Charles understood this, had been planning something for awhile. You observed the box to be moving and to have... hole in it? You thought to yourself before looking to your husband with shock and confusion as a little bark sounded from inside.

"Charles, darling. You. Did. NOT," you gasp before throwing off the lid as a puppy comes bursting out to your chest, licking your face with gratitude before exploring the bed. Charles picks up the fluffy creature, leading it back to you before sitting near the foot on the bed, massaging your leg gently with a smile, "I know you've been feeling lonely recently and I apologize. I promise that after this next job... I won't have to work as much, this is just the last thing, I promise."

You stare into his eyes for a moment, the puppy wigging in your arms as you pet their head and scratch behind their ears with a subconscious smile growing on your face. "Really?!" you ask excitedly, blinking away tears of hope in your eyes seeing as Charles chuckles softly before you, crawling towards you both and pressing a kiss to the side of your head, catching a kiss on the chin by your new pet as well, "Yes."

─────── · ·

─ · · Charles had actually stayed for longer than you were used to, something about preparing and studying his opponent to strike the best deal. You nodded along, interested but confused on the details of this supposed interaction he had planned as you both walked the dog around the garden property line.

"When we get back, I just have to jot-down the rest of the details before I can join you two for dinner. I picked up your favourite bottle from the market earlier that I was thinking we could share?" You nod, pressing a kiss to his cheek before unclipping your new companion from their leash, watching as they run inside and to their water dish.

Charles's arms wrap around your waist as he presses a kiss to your exposed neck, feeling his smile against your skin, "I love you, darling." You rest your hands atop of his, leaning against his chest and close your eyes, enjoying the warm evenings breeze drifting across both of your forms before taking a deep breath and watching as Charles leaves you and heads to his study.

You get dinner moving, dancing and singing around the kitchen as your puppy runs between your feet, barking cheerfully and trying to dance alongside you. Giggling you pick him up, resting his upper arms on your shoulder as you use them as your partner, spinning and twirling towards the living before placing them in their back in their bed.

Your phone goes off as you rush back to the stove and take the tray out and leave it to cool in front of an open window before cutting the bread. "Smells divine in here," you jump, starting and nicking yourself on the knife, cursing softly as you watch the blood drip from the small cut with a wince before heading towards the sink.

Charles is distraught at the sight of you bleeding, taking quick long strides over to your form, holding your elbow gently as he inspects the small nick, "I'm so sorry," he mumbles a few times between kisses to your face before he moves to get the first-aid kit underneath the skin, patting the counter for you to sit upon as he stands between your legs and dresses the cut.

You smile at how softly he touches you, apologizing as you wince at the solution to cleanse the cut before kissing the bandaged finger afterwards. "I'm quite alright, Charles. Just a minor thing-" you begin to explain yet your husband just shakes his head, annoyed with myself. "I shouldn't have distracted you, got you hurt in the first place, I hate seeing you with this," he holds up your hand in front of both of your faces.

You press your forehead against his own, closing your eyes, "Charles, my love. I would forgive you even if you shot me. No need to worry," You joke in a loving tone- not understanding to the way the Jackal tenses feeling your touch. Visions of your corpse flashing before his eyes with life-like accuracy as he begins to feel queasy, shaking in your hold.

You pull away once feeling him start to breath heavily. His touch falling from your hand to grip the kitchen counter, knuckles turning white as he sees you look up at him with tear-covered eyes, his hand shakes with the trigger- "Charles?" you call out softly, hand hovering over his cheek, feeling as he flinches at the touch, taking a step away while shaking his head to himself before appearing... scarily calm again.

You watch as he smiles, brings up dinner and walks past whatever... episode he seemingly just had as if it had never happened in the first place... a mere fragment of your imagination. You furrowed your brows, jumping down from the kitchen counter before filling up both your plates and following Charles out to the patio where a table set with candles was prepared for you both.

Your heart tremors in your chest, watching as he pulls out a chair for you before pushing you in and seating himself. Pouring glasses of wine for you both with a cheers you gulp down the liquid quickly before gently placing the glass back down on the table and taking a bite of your food, debating weather or not to bring up what had just happened or not.

You ultimately decide not too, enjoying this moment that has been few and far between in recent months as your husband charms you like the first day you met, with coy smiles and charming words that have you falling into his arms and back into bed where you rest upon his chest, listening to his heart beating for you once more.

─────── · ·

─ · · Your friends call you in the morning as you invite them over before telling Charles, you rush towards his office in case he is still undressed for they all would be coming shortly to use the pool.

Knocking at the door, his voice invites you in to see the puppy in his lap as Charles fixes his glasses, looking up from the documents scattered across his desk to you with a loving smile and crinkled eyes, "good morning my love, I'm sorry I was not there to wake you."

You wave a hand on his face walking over and pulling him in for a kiss before looking over the papers and blueprints curiously, hand hovering over the smear of red ink against the corner of a crumpled page before Charles' voice redirects your attention with a hand to your hip, giving a gently squeeze, "was there something you wanted to say?"

"Oh, yes!" you jump back to your previous thoughts watching as he turns away from the desk, the dog jumping off his lap and running down the hall leaving the seat empty. You stare for a moment debating, knowing that if you sit down you might not be ready in time. The Jackal did not care about what you were thinking in the moment though, simply gabbing you by your waist and allowing you to fall into his lap.

"Marissa and my other friends are coming over shortly to use the pool, I just thought to let you know beforehand so you could get ready as well," you explain, playing with the buttons to his creme linen shirt listening to him hum. "I'm afraid that I still have-" you look at him with pleading eyes, hand brushing against the skin of his chest and trailing down, watching as the words die on his lips, "...alright. I'll be there shortly."

You quickly stand back up with a smile, cheering happily listening to him laugh before rushing back to your wardrobe to pick a swimsuit and throw-over for the occasion.

─────── · ·

─ · · A knock sounds at the door that has you nearly falling down the stairs and rushing to hug your guests. Marissa squeals in your ear, wrapping her arms around your shoulders as you both swing side to side. She presents you a bottle of wine and a platter of fresh fruits which you bring out to the deck, showing your guests to where the fridge and restrooms were.

─ · · You feel overjoyed having the house filled and to see the dog running around and jumping after their toys in the pool. You lean back in a lounge, soaking up the sun before a shadow overtakes the warmth. You peel up your sunglasses, as Marissa tits her head to the side, mouthing, follow me. You raise a brow in question but follow her nevertheless into the pool house in which she quickly closes the door and shuts the blinds on both of you.

"Marissa?" you call out her name, squinting through the darkness before flicking on the light," Is everything alright?" you ask again watching as her smile wavers, hands shaking as she moves to grip your own. "I think it's best for you to sit before I say anything..." her thumbs brush against the back of your hands soothingly, your heart races- debating of weather or not to quickly grab Charles for whatever news you were about to be it with.

Seemingly knowing your thoughts, Marissa shakes her head, taking a seat beside you on a stack of spare cushions for your outdoor furniture. "This is about Charles," she explains- you debate weather or not to roll your eyes. "Of course it is. What news do we have this time?" you ask, feeling irritated as you side your hands away from her touch. She looks at you for a moment before sighing, "I know you feel as though I am in the wrong for calling out your relationship and maybe I am, maybe I'm not but I only want you to be safe and happy... you're my best friend, hun and I don't want to see you get hurt."

You nod smiling, "same goes to you-"

"Yes," Marissa cuts you off, playing with her hair, "thats why I'm telling you that your husband isn't who you think he is." She bites her lip, waiting on your reaction. You lean your head forwards, "go on?" wanting to indulge in another one of her 'stories.' She cuts right to the chase.

"He kills people." You gasp, standing up and shaking your finger, "No, NO, Marissa! That is too far this time!" you stomp your way towards the door, shoulders rising upwards and tight, I can't believe she has the audacity to say such a thing. "PLEASE," Marissa runs up, gripping your arm, nearly on her knees begging, "let me explain... I-I have evidence." Your heat drops at her sincerity, the way her large tearful eyes grip your own, forcing you to take a seat again as she pulls open her phone- your hand flying to your mouth in shock.

You look at the various articles she has saved to her camera roll, the dates of the murders lining up with the most recent trips of your husband. "This could only be a coincidence right?" Marissa does not say a word, simply flipping her phone horizontally and pressing play to a news broadcast recording:

"Witnesses have identified the assassin to be a 6ft male with an athletic build. Crime investigators have released the following identikit based upon multiple accounts and ask that if you have any information on where the killer is or where they plan on going to contact local and world police immediately for the safety of the greater public."

You feel sick, head falling between your knees as you shake and cry, knowing that illustration to be hauntingly similar to the love of your life... or so you thought him to be.

Marissa rubs your back in soothing circling motions before looking towards the door and whispering her next words to you carefully, "Please, come with me tonight. Say that something happened with my family and that I need your support. We'll pack and bag and get you out," you nod along, lost in your thoughts and not quite catching her words- ears ringing from overstimulation, the clothes on your body soon feel to hot as you grip your skin in panic.

"I-I he wouldn't lie to me this way... he said he-he loved me?" you hiccup in between cries, now walking around in circles within the small space- wavering on the line of hysteria. "I have to go talk to him, this is a misunderstanding, they have the wrong accounts, they, they..." you shake your head, trying to clear your mind to no avail.

Marissa stands, gripping your shoulders, shaking you, begging you to listen to her, "Please, stay with me for tonight at least. I don't feel safe leaving you here with him, not with what we both know... he could kill us if he knows... we know..." You fall over, back into the cushions, your head feeling to heavy for your body as your spots of black start to cloud over your vision. "M-Marissa?" you beg for what you don't know as she hugs you, begging you to stand and move with her.

"Please, we have to go now. Stop the tears, we must leave-"

"I-I can't!" you shout before watching as her eyes widen, the sounds of the other guests dying down from your outburst. A knock sounds at the door, your heart drops... you both allow a moment to pass before another knock sounds, more rushed and heavy against the wood, "my love? are you alright in there?"

Charles. You and Marissa both share a look, you swallow deeply- clearing your throat, "I'm alright Charles, just an wardrobe malfunction." You hear as your... husband chuckles, "alright, I have a plate of food waiting for you by the pool."

"Thank you, darling!" you shout back before hearing as his footsteps become distant. You let out a breath you didn't know to be holding as Marissa pulls you up, wiping your face with her towel, determination in her eyes. "We. are. leaving." You nod, not trusting your words as you follow her outside, wincing at the light coming into your eyes and heart.

─────── · ·

─ · · You walk swiftly pass the crowd and upstairs, throwing the closet open to find a duffle bag as you begin to pack a weeks worth of clothes. You stop yourself from grabbing one of Charles shirts to sleep in, your fingers twitching as your heartaches, you bite your lip to conceal a cry as your eyes well before turning towards the ensuite bathroom.

You startle bumping into a chest as arms steady you, hand brushing against your cheek as Charles stares down at you- worry clouding over his eyes as he takes in the sight of your tears. "Whats wrong?" he asks quietly, brushing your hair as you shake in his hold... knowing what those hands have done. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to relax in the memory of his touch before pulling away and heading towards the bathroom.

Charles stands there still where you left him, glaring at his reflection in the mirror of the closet before turning around determined to find out whatever or whomever made his darling wife cry. He leans against the doorframe watching as you grab a hairbrush and a few hair ties before brushing past him and throwing them into your luggage- hands shaking as you zip it closed and place it over your shoulder.

But just before you can reach the door, Charles picks you up in his arms, you scream, and places you on the bed- standing at the foot with his arms crossed. "Running away from our issues only prolongs them. What. is. wrong?" he asks, muscles flexing as he forces himself not to physically comfort you seeing as you flinch from every slight sound you hear. Who scared you? What do I need to do in order to protect you? The Jackal thinks to himself, foot tapping in wait.

You sound out the party happening down stairs, focusing solemnly on your breathing, "I-I have to help Marissa with somethings. Her family, things went badly and she needs me?" you try and lie yet your words appear more like a question.

Your husband sighs, head tilting to the side as he analyzes your form, eye twitching... no, she couldn't know that. I've hid it well and no one else would know in the slightest... You watch every small expression tick over his features, shifting in your spot watching as he does the same, mirroring your movements- you feel trapped knowing that Charles was not going to let you leave... not without the truth nevertheless.

You look outside, hoping to catch Marissa's eyes to come and save you yet can see no sights of her. Your bag drops to your feet as you grip your hair, Am I ready to die? You ask yourself, thoughts automatically going to the darkest parts of your mind before you suddenly remember your conversation last night in the kitchen...

─────── · ·

You press your forehead against his own, closing your eyes, "Charles, my love. I would forgive you even if you shot me. No need to worry," You joke in a loving tone- not understanding to the way the Jackal tenses feeling your touch. Visions of your corpse flashing before his eyes with life-like accuracy as he begins to feel queasy, shaking in your hold.

You pull away once feeling him start to breath heavily. His touch falling from your hand to grip the kitchen counter, knuckles turning white as he sees you look up at him with tear-covered eyes, his hand shakes with the trigger- "Charles?" you call out softly, hand hovering over his cheek, feeling as he flinches at the touch, taking a step away while shaking his head to himself before appearing... scarily calm again.

─────── · ·

Shit, you think to yourself... his prior actions all making sense now. You timidly look into his eyes, purposefully trying to make yourself appear small... make him feel the heart you have loved ever-so dearly up until this point, and to some degree, you still do for the years of affections you both have shared.

"Tell me what you know," The Jackal asks calmly, your blood runs cold as he stares down at you, nose twitching, eyes daring you to try and lie again to him.

You open and close your mouth, unsure of what to say before letting lose knowing that you were not making it out of this room no matter what so you might as well do it with morals and truth. "I know you kill people," you begin to say.

The room is dead silent as you both stare into one another's eyes, "Tell me that you don't," you whisper, tears silently falling down your cheeks that you do your best to try and blink away resulting in only more coming. Yet in your husbands move not to answer you provides you with the most deafening answer yet... he does.

You shake your head, nails digging into your palms, threatening to break skin. You flinch again to his touch, feeling as the Jackal gently pulls your fingers away from hurting yourself- your heart hammers in your chest like a drum, you know he can hear it to by the way his head falls. "Tell me that you don't," you whisper-shot, shaking your head, confused as to how the soft and intelligent man you fell in love with, that you married and planed to have children with... kills people.

"I kill people for money," the Jackal whispers quietly, a part of hoping that you do not hear his words, that you would return to your smiling and loving self, taking him back with open arms- unknowing once more yet you understand what he says, "Listen to yourself and say it again," you demand of him.

The Jackal removes his touch, taking in a shaky deep breath, closing his eyes as his hands shake down by his sides into fists, you slowly crawl back on the bed, "I kill people for money," he says a bit louder. You scoff into a cry, "say it again."

"I kill people for money," the Jackal states picking up his head to look you in the eyes, his heart breaks seeing your tears, watching as you flinching when he moves to brush them away. You'e afraid of me, Charles thinks to himself. I've failed to protect you, the Jackal thinks to himself. You are shaking in your spot, "say it again, say it-"

"I KILL PEOPLE FOR MONEY. Is that what you want to hear? Is that enough? Is it enough?" The Jackal snaps at you before falling to his knees, head in your lap as an offering. You feel the way he grips your sides, sobbing into your skirt, pleading for you to love him. Yet you just stare forwards, looking out to the sun and all the people downstairs, your eyes catch Marissa's as you stand, his body rolling off of yours as he stays collapsed against the floor watching as you slowly pick up your bag and close the door on him.

─────── · ·

─ · · You felt disgusted for not being able to go to the police about your husband... or well ex-husband. You sent the divorce papers in at Marissas request after your first month out on the run from your heart but no matter where you seemed to go, what disguises or excuses you used when he would just find your new phone number again, you still loved him.

─ · · A part of you knew deep within that not every moment you shared together could be a lie. He trusted you to sleep beside him, to cook for him, to be his confidant to his "work rants," and spent his pay check on you... but he kills people... you think to yourself, 'only the bad people, promise,' you remember him telling you via letter to your mailbox during your first week in Australia where Marissa left you before returning back to Spain. You shake your head, confused with yourself; head and heart competing...

But when you saw golden locks out of the corner of your eye, green-eyes hidden behind tinted shades and tall muscular body draped in a fine linen suit... it would be an understatement to say you folded in the first seconds and fell back in love in the first moment when he picked up your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it and refused to let go, intertwining your fingers together on the table as he payed for lunch and all your drinks without a second thought.

And when it started to rain in Amsterdam where you were currently "hiding out," he draped his jacket over your shoulders and picked you up so that your feet wouldn't get wet in all the puddles and potholes. Carrying you all the back to the apartment you were renting, waiting at the door for you to invite him inside and you did.

─ · · You watched as he unbuttoned and rolled up his sleeves to his forearms, veins flexing across his skin as he clenched and unclenched his hands when you moved past him to sit distantly on the couch. He thought about the comforting pressure of you on his lap, the feeling of your head on your shoulder and your lips against his own. He wanted nothing more than to feel your skin against his skin, to get a taste of you once more... but he allowed you space, for now... until things are safe... until the job is done, Charles thought to himself, taking a sip out of the tea you prepared for you both.

─ · · After some catching up on both of your sides, your concern grew not only for yourself and your safety, but for your husbands as he was being pinned down on two fronts. One by the police, the other by his target and his men... a part of you knew that your safety did relay on the Jackal getting his work done and knew that from you not going to the police right away, not protecting the 'public', you were in some part just as guilty as he- a participant... "let me help you.... please." And the Jackal nodded.

─────── · ·

─ · · Returning to Spain, the Jackal gave you a series of instructions and lists of where secret rooms, weapons, and security lockdown procedures he had installed for a moment that you had no clue existed before and never would have.

─ · · You shiver at how precisely Charles can check the various weapons on himself, flipping knives in his boots, checking his magazines and checking the sights down the barrel of his gun before giving you a kiss and telling you to go sit in the bedroom upstairs with the dog, waiting to flip a switch in the wardrobe at his request to cut all the power to the house through your earpiece.

You nodded, pulling him in for a second kiss, lingering before pulling away slightly and kissing all the way across his cheek to his ear, whispering, "live for me." You didn't receive a response, only a pat at your hit, silently demanding you to move as you pick up your furry companion and closed the bedroom door, putting on a record just like intersected... sitting still and looking pretty and innocent, just waiting on your husband to return.

─────── · ·

─ · · You didn't bother to look at the clock, watching as the minutes ticked over and the dog laid asleep at the foot of the bed. Your fingers running across the soft fur of their back only to startle as you hear your front door be blasted through and two pairs of boots stomp their way into your home. Your breath hitches as you quickly stand and look at the window seeing no addition people in the tree line.

You double check to ensure your door is closed before pressing down on your ear, listening closely for your queue... "Do you hear me darling?" Charle's soft tone floods your ear, you can hear him taking shallow long breaths in and out, most likely hiding somewhere in the walls. "yes," you whisper, starting to make your way into the closet- waiting... "flick the switch, gorgeous." Lights out!

─ · · You are suddenly surrounded in darkness as you tip toe your way back to the bed and place yourself on top of the covers, scrolling through your phone once hearing their boots near the door. The dog shuffles by your feet but does not move as the door creaks open and two flashlights are shined in your eyes, causing you both to stand alert. "HANDS UP!" a woman shouts, you wave your hands in the air. "P-please don't hurt me! Take whatever you want from the house!" you beg, tears starting to drown across your cheeks as you work to distract the women. "Please!" you beg over and over again dramatically, falling to your knees as your hands press against her boots.

"I'm here to protect you ma'am, just do as I say and we will have no issues," the woman in uniform tells you- you nod your head. "Stand," she demands and you oblige, rising to your feet and grabbing your pet in your arms. "Do you have any idea what your husband does?" she questions you, moving you both towards Charle's study and telling you to sit at his desk. You nod your head, hearing as her breath hitches, "he works in global sales for an insurance company," you explain.

"I can show you the new logos?" you ask confusing the woman. "No, I don't care about that... you are married to Charles Calthrop, correct?" You nod your head again, "Yes, that is my husband." The floor suddenly creaks down the hall, the woman turns around sharply, flashlight pointing down the hall as you hide underneath the desk in preparation yet hear no rounds fired.

Looking up slowly, the room and the hall now appear empty as you listen to boots run down the hall and turn down the stairs into the living room. "Stay where you are," Charles demand comes through your ear, "okay," you whisper, holding onto the dog closely as you brace, listening to the distant conversation and then... BANG... a pause... BANG BANG. Another two shots sound and then... silence once more.

"Good girl, you did your work perfectly, my love," Charles praises you before telling you to come downstairs with the luggage for you both. You feel as your husband quickly pulls you in for a hug, caressing your head in an effort for you not to see the body behind him. You feel as he kisses the top of your head, "All ready to go?" he asks you.

"I'm ready," you respond with determination.

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: no part 2's to this one!

─ · · JACKAL TAGLIST: @swiftietevitdrewjew @groovyponypatrollamp @alelo23 @apaperflowerreader @itz-stuts

[amiserableseriesofevents]

I am having. A moment.

[junhuiflix]

BLACK DOVES (2024) 1 x 04 THE DAY OF THE JACKAL (2024) 1 x 09

"i kill people for money."

[eddie-redmayne-italian-blog]

Source @_ottish_ on IG

La prossima volta che mi viene l’idea di organizzare un brunch con un premio Oscar qualcuno mi fermi.

DO YOU HEAR THE PEOPLE SING?🎶🇫🇷🥖 #TheDayOfTheJackal #premiere #TDOTJ #EddieRedmayne

[asteria33]

Started watching The Day of the Jackal and now I need all of the fanfic recs man. I’ve read all of them on here 😭

WATTPAD AO3 WHERE EVER THEY BE, SEND THEM THEM TO THEE

[cryptid-teapot]

Fits in this show go crazy

[currentlyonstandbi]

[moonwqves]

⋮ 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐬.

───〃★ the jackal (the day of the jackal) x reader.

★ — TYPE | fluff ; sfw ★ — SUMMARY | to celebrate your anniversary, your husband takes you on a trip — and a trip down memory lane. ★ — WORD COUNT | 3.3k ★ — WARNINGS | wife!reader ; mostly just married people being gross and in love ; jackal is referred to as alexander duggan ; reader is referred to as my love, darling, etc. ; time skips between past & present ; not really canon compliant ★ — NOTES | i originally wrote this fic 2 years ago on another blog for a different fandom, but i recently watched tdotj (and then read the book: not as good as the show imo but i’d still recommend it) and i decided to rewrite this fic to fit my current interests! it seems like this fandom on tumblr is fairly small so please reblog or leave a comment if you liked this! i have a few more ideas that i'd love to write for him in the future :)

“alex, can you at least tell me where we’re going?”

he shakes his head, a shy grin making its way across his face as he zips a bag of toiletries shut. “it’s a surprise, my darling. can’t spoil the fun yet.”

you pout and cross your arms, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside your open suitcase. “how am i supposed to know what to bring, then, if i don’t know where we’re going?”

alexander pauses to look back at you, considering. “ah. well, you’ve got me there.” in one smooth motion he turns back around, pulling his phone out of his pocket and tapping a few times against the screen. you watch as he studies the device carefully, waiting to give him a chance to speak, but he doesn’t.

for a man with so many secrets, many secrets he’d finally divulged to you and you alone, there could be any number of things going on in his life at any given time. when he’d proposed a week-long holiday for your upcoming anniversary, he’d swore up and down that there would be no other engagements diverting his attention. for the first time in a long time, he was all yours, and at present you were inclined to believe him. he was a liar, yes, and a very skilled one at that, but never without good reason. if something else was to happen over the next few days, then he would let you in on the secret when he saw fit. otherwise… it really was just going to be a vacation getaway, and nothing more.

“what is it?” you ask after a tentative silence, and alex lifts his head again at your voice.

he looks up at you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “checking the weather,” he says, turning the phone around to show the screen. “it’s going to be warm and clear. usual for this time of year, but it’ll be windy, so pack a coat.” he pauses, glancing down at the screen again, and then back up at you. “perhaps more than one coat.”

you purse your lips, thinking for a moment before you stand and walk into the closet, pulling out two hangers: in your left hand a long brown overcoat, and on the right, a faded black leather jacket. “which one?”

there’s a spark of recognition in his eyes, and he immediately raises his hand to point towards the left. “that one.”

—— 20th FEBRUARY.

“excuse me, miss, do you need some help?”

ice cold droplets of rain pour down around you as you stand underneath the awning in front of the grocery store, cursing yourself for not checking the weather more thoroughly before you’d gone out today. it had been deceptively sunny earlier, but during the rainy spring season you never know when the weather will decide to flip on a dime and the skies open up like they have today. your outfit had been perfect for the sunshine, but now it’s nowhere near enough to protect you from the rain.

at the sound of a voice you turn and see a tall man coming out of the store behind you, a brown paper-wrapped package sticking out from under his arm. “do you live far?” he asks. “you can borrow my umbrella, if you want.”

the words no, i’m fine, thank you form themselves on your lips, but after another moment of studying his face closer, you realize there’s something familiar about him, though you can’t immediately figure out why. “sorry, have we met before?”

his expression mirrors your own of confusion for a moment before he narrows his eyes, as if realizing something. “aren’t you— ah, that little café down on wilshire street, do you work there?”

you nod your head in response, relaxing now that you know he’s friendly. still, it comes as a surprise when he repeats your name, though you brush it off quickly; anyone who comes into the café could notice the neatly lettered chalk swirls that sit against the black background of your apron’s name pin. “that’s me,” you say with a polite laugh. “but… i’m sorry, i don’t remember your name. i don’t pay much attention to customers, unless they come in quite often.”

“don’t worry about it. i’m visiting from out of town.” he offers a dazzling smile, and it’s so enthralling that you barely notice the sound of distant thunder cracking in the air. “it’s alexander, by the way. or just alex, if you’d like.”

you stick out your hand and he shakes it enthusiastically, his grip firm yet warm. “very nice to meet you, alexander,” you smile, and he bows his head at you.

“so— about that umbrella,” he says.

you wave him off. “oh, no, i’m alright. it’s not far. just working up the courage to sprint back home,” you say with a laugh, hugging your groceries tighter to your chest in a futile effort to protect them from the rain.

“let me give you a ride,” he declares suddenly. “it’ll be a bit shorter of a sprint for you, at least? i’m staying at the apartments a couple blocks down, it’s not out of my way.”

“i’ll be fine,” you say, brushing your hair out of your face as a gust of wind threatens to knock you over. “though it’s very kind of you to offer.”

alexander frowns a little, and you try not to read too much into the flirty pout gracing his lips. “well, i can’t in good conscience let you go off running around in a storm like this without an umbrella,” he says. he shifts the paper package to his other arm and quickly starts shrugging off his coat. “here, take this. your pretty outfit will get all ruined in the rain. please, i insist.”

you want to tell him no again, but just then the thunder cracks again, drawing your attention back to the downpour around you. you can already feel the puddle of water you’re standing in beginning to soak into your socks through your shoes, and his coat does look warm…

“alright, fine,” you concede after a second, accepting the clothing from him and slipping your arms into the sleeves as he pulls it around your shoulders. “how should i get it back to you?”

“well… i’m in town for a while longer. i’ll stop by the café another day this week when you’re working?”

“i’ll take good care of it for you until then,” you nod, offering him a friendly smile as you tug his coat tighter around you, and he grins in response.

alex catches your eye for a moment, a spark flickering in his gaze before he lowers his head to check his watch, almost shy to avert his eyes. “i’m really sorry, i’ve actually got a meeting to rush off to,” he says apologetically. “but it was nice meeting you. i hope we’ll see each other again soon.”

he gives you a little wave and then dashes off into the rain, holding his package over his head to protect himself. you pull the collar of his coat up around your neck, watching as he disappears into the twilight of the parking lot and feeling only a little guilty for leaving him without protection from the weather. but then again, he had offered, and you would see him again anyway. and besides, he seemed to be more prepared than you, in other ways.

“now, will you tell me where we’re going?”

the warm morning breeze brushes against your cheeks as you rest your elbow against the car door, the fabric roof of the convertible folded down behind you. you lean your head back against the passenger seat headrest and sigh, glancing over at alexander in the driver’s seat. the wind blows his hair around in his face, a tousled flurry of dirty blond against his freckled cheeks.

you still have no idea where you’re headed for your anniversary trip, and it seems like alex has no intention of letting you know anytime soon. but despite your curiosity, that thought couldn’t be farther from your mind as you watch him drive with one hand on the wheel, dark sunglasses perched casually on the bridge his nose.

“not yet, my love,” he says coolly, his voice raised just enough to be heard over the wind. “you’ll see soon enough, i promise.” at your whine of protest he grins and reaches across the seat, resting his other hand on your thigh.

the rural city gradually fades out, becoming less and less dense until you’re out on a long stretch of back roads, nothing but green fields and tall grass as far as the eye can see. eventually alexander pulls off the road and stops in a tiny dirt parking lot surrounded by trees. a small wooden sign announces the name of the park, along with a note that reminds visitors to pick up their trash.

he pulls the keys out of the ignition and shoves them in his pocket, and you hum curiously. “is this your big surprise?”

he chuckles, leaning over the center console to kiss your cheek before opening his door. “no, of course not. this is just lunch.”

he slides out of the car and comes around to your side to open the door for you before he moves to open the trunk, pulling out a small cooler and a blanket before shutting it again. he holds out his hand to you, motioning for you to follow him. when you take his hand he squeezes a little, turning back over his shoulder to smile at you before leading you over to a shady spot in the grass.

as alex spreads the picnic blanket out, you start to open the cooler to help him set up, but he shoos your hand away with a tsk of his teeth. “darling, let me do it,” he says, throwing you a playful frown. the ever-prepared man that he is, you know he’s meticulously planned out each and every detail of this vacation sparing no expense, so you surrender and let him continue with what he’s doing on his own.

he pulls a bottle of sparkling apple juice out from the cooler and hands you two champagne flutes, then pours your glass out first before pouring his own and setting the bottle down in the grass.

“the real stuff is waiting at the hotel,” he says with a smirk, holding up his glass to clink with yours.

“so we’re staying in a hotel, then?” you hum, raising your eyebrows at him as you take a sip. “i’m one step closer to figuring you out.”

“must’ve been a slip of the tongue,” he grins, and for once you know for sure that he’s lying. alexander duggan simply doesn’t do a slip of the tongue. every move he makes is intentional, and there’s no doubt in your mind that revealing this little piece of information was intentional, too.

you sigh contentedly, leaning back on your hands as he pulls out paper-wrapped sandwiches from the cooler. he glances at both of them before handing yours to you, your name printed in carefully scrawled sharpie lettering.

it’s so cute you almost don’t want to ruin it by opening it, and you look at it fondly for such a long time that by the time you finally start to unwrap it, alexander is already halfway done with his. you call his name, holding back a laugh when he looks up from his sandwich with mustard smeared over one corner of his mouth. “what?” he hums, mouth full.

“nothing,” you giggle, reaching over to wipe the mustard off his face with your thumb before wiping your hand on a napkin. “i just love you.”

—— 3RD MARCH.

“number twenty-four! ham and swiss for alex?”

the barista’s booming voice calls out the order, and alexander slips out of his chair to go grab the food. despite being the middle of the day, there isn’t much of a lunch crowd in the deli this afternoon. 

you’d seen him again at the café a few days later, and, recognizing him immediately this time, returned his coat to him safe and sound. after that he’d quickly become one of your regulars at the café, always staying longer than necessary and tipping far more than the cost of his regular black coffee and croissant.

days passed, and after one particularly flirty morning he’d finally, shyly, asked if you’d get lunch with him sometime. it hadn’t taken much to convince you; he’d recommended a sandwich shop down the street owned by an old friend of his, enthusiastically raving on and on about the chocolate chip muffins until you’d agreed with a laugh.

he comes back to the table a second later holding a little wood tray with two sandwiches, carefully handing you yours before sitting down again. 

the sandwich ends up being fantastic (he had been right to give rave reviews after all), but the company you’re with ends up being the best part of the lunch. getting to know alexander is more fun than you’ve ever had, and when you look down to check your watch and realize that you’ll be late to work if you stay any longer, you’re honestly disappointed that it has to end here.

“would you wanna go out again sometime?” alex asks sheepishly as you both stand up. despite his calm and collected demeanor, there’s something awkward about the way he acts that you find terribly endearing. “maybe… dinner, or something, next time?”

“yeah.” you give him a bright smile and push your chair in. “i would really like that. dinner sounds wonderful.”

he grins, and you can almost see his cheeks flush a little beneath his freckles as he follows you out of the shop. being around him feels like you’ve known each other for years, and in that moment you realize this lunch is only a first date with alex. he’s already making plans for a second, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. 

he helps you into your car and gives you a wave before walking away towards his own. and long after his car has pulled away and you’re still sitting in the parking lot, you can’t help but smile. the only thing on your mind is how much you’re looking forward to seeing him again.

“we’re here, my love, are you awake?”

the smooth lilt of alex’s voice pulls you out of your nap and you blink slowly, sitting up and massaging the kink in your neck from sleeping against the car seat. you had wanted to stay awake to see where he was taking you, but with the excitement from packing for the trip you hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, and the feeling of warm sunshine on your face and the rolling of the car had put you right to sleep.

rubbing your eyes, you stare out the window to see what he’s talking about, but it only takes you a few seconds to immediately recognize where you are. you gasp, looking over at him, and he grins back.

“surprise,” he smiles, watching your giddy reaction as the car moves along the familiar coastal highway. it’s the same little town you spent your honeymoon with him years ago, the one you’ve always said you’d wanted to visit again, but between both of your busy lives and his jobs getting in the way, you haven’t had the chance to.

you lean forward and stick your head out of the car, inhaling the fresh, salty sea air.

alexander pulls into the hotel parking lot: a small but grand little villa that, by the looks of it, hasn’t changed much since the last time you were here. eagerly you hop out and come around to meet him at the other side of the car. he gives you a kiss on the cheek as he stands up, shutting the car door and taking your hand to lead you towards the arched entrance.

when you pull open the door, the foyer is just like how you remember it. tall glass windows offer stunning views of the cliffs, paintings of ocean scenes hang on the walls, and baskets of driftwood and seashells sit atop every antique wooden table. you walk across the room to pick up a magazine off one of the tables, flipping through it to see advertisements for local restaurants, wine tastings, and local art shows.

you’re so invested reading an article about whale watching boat tours that you don’t notice alex slip upstairs, disappearing for no more than a few minutes before he casually returns to the entryway and calls your name, gesturing for you to see the rest of the place.

muscle memory comes back to you as your feet carry you up the stairs and around the corner to the same bedroom you’d stayed in so long ago. he follows after you, the corner of his lips turned up as he watches your excitement. it’s not often you get to go on vacation together, and he’s determined to make sure this anniversary is one you won’t forget.

standing outside the room you push open the door, but when you see what’s inside you nearly drop everything you’re holding. the entire room is covered in flowers, with pink peonies and pretty white blooms in vases on every table, and rose petals scattered across the bed. by the mini refrigerator there’s a bottle of champagne resting in a bucket of ice, a little note attached with a bow around the neck of the bottle.

you turn around and alexander is right behind you, carefully watching your reacting with a smile.

you throw your arms around him and he chuckles, walking backwards into the room with you in his arms. the luggage in the open car trunk is long forgotten as his lips finally press against yours, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

—— 16TH JUNE.

“are you ready?”

despite your nerves, alexander’s voice is calm as he sits beside you in the driver’s seat of the car. your dress bunches up around you as you push the fabric out of the way, leaning across the cupholders to kiss him, the first of many kisses today and over the years that will come.

it had been a long but happy year since your coincidental meeting at the grocery, which he'd later revealed had been not-so-coincidental after all. but the initial shock of learning who he was and what he did had eventually worn off, and the two of you had come out together stronger than ever.

he smiles against your lips before leaning away to push the keys into the ignition, and you look out your passenger side window one more time. a small group of your closest friends and family stand outside the car, waving bouquets of bright pink peonies.

alex twists around to look over his shoulder at the rear window, where the words “just married” are written in chalk marker, as he reverses out of the parking lot.

once everyone is out of sight, you begin to relax into your seat, kicking off the shoes that have been hurting your feet all night. you’re leaving before any of your guests are, having stayed at the reception just long enough to cut the cake and have your first dance, so it’s still early enough in the evening to have some time to yourselves.

“where are we going?” you ask, reclining the seat a little with a sigh as you gaze out the window. the stars are beginning to come out, little twinkling lights in the dusk sky, and you smile as you think about today, finally a moment to relax and reflect on everything.

your new husband grins and shakes his head, keeping one hand on the wheel as he slides the other across the seat to intertwine his fingers with yours. “can’t say. it’s a surprise.”

© moonwqves 2024. do not repost or translate. ── ⊹ ˙ . 𖥻 want to join my taglist? send me an ask!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. — @betsybat @wandalfnation @princess76179 @zooni92802 ^^ (i added everyone on my taglist, but please lmk if you'd only like to be tagged for specific fandoms in the future!)

if you enjoyed this, please reblog or let me know in a comment or an ask! feedback helps so much with motivation and gives me energy to continue writing :) thanks for reading!

[simp-ly-writes]

All For You

─────── · · A TDOTJ FanFic

Pairing: Charles "Jackal" Calthrop x Fem!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: After one shock phone-call your whole world appears to have turned over leaving you stranded against the floors of your kitchen yet your (murderous) husband might just have a quick and effective way to solve your problem- his words, not yours.

─ · · TAGS: second person perspective used, female-pronouns used, mentioned to have hair and a mother, would this count as yandere themes? angst, emotional hurt/comfort, Jackal kills someone for you, depictions of violence and anxiety attacks, not beta red nor edited.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 3,136

─ · · A/N: thank you for the ask anon! I LOVE writing angst and hurt/comfort fics AHHHH! 💞😫

─────── · ·

─ · · You sat in the car for a moment longer than usual, simply enjoying the warm kiss of the sun against your skin from the open roof- feeling the breeze sweep your hair off your shoulders that carried the faintest smell of flowers and fresh cut grass up to your nose as you took a deep breath in. You smile and close your eyes to soak up the moment before unbuckling yourself and reaching into the backseat to grab the groceries you gathered earlier.

With a brown paper bag in each of your arms (too stubborn to take multiple trips back and forth from the car). You propped your knee against the front door, bag atop of it as you fumbled for your house keys. Leaning down to your side you struggle to reach into your pocket as the bag starts to tip- rushing to catch it in time- keys falling to the porch as you curse underneath your breath. Moment ruined, you think to yourself with a grumble before pushing open the door.

Kicking off your shoes in favour of your slippers as you did not want to mess up your freshly mopped floors. Your muscles practically sung with relief as you dropped the bags to the stone counters and begun to unpack, restocking the kitchen accordingly.

─ · · Placing the now empty bags back by the door for later use, you took a sudden turn to move upstairs- tripping on the forth step as you heard your phone start to ring before the call cancelled shortly after and begun again in a tight sequence. You raise a brow, pausing on the steps before turning yourself around and heading back into the kitchen, unlocking your phone to see nearly a dozen calls from an unknown number.

Your palms instantly sweat, a sense of anxiety hitting you hard and fast as you hesitantly accept the next call, gripping the device tightly to your ear.

At first all you hear is silence, you turn up the volume more, debating of weather or not to speak the first words but as you open your mouth to speak, you do not hear your own voice coming across the speaker. "Don't move if you know whats good for you," a stern male voice sounds in your ear.

Every muscle in your body tightens to his words, that once hot shock of panic now a cold shiver starts at your shoulders and trails down your back as you still in your place, listening intently as you stare at your blurry reflection in the refrigerator across from you, seeing your widened and glossy eyes.

"Good. Now listen closely, your mother owes us a lot of money and has failed to pay us on time, again and again, and we are done being patient. I know you have the money to pay us- thats a mighty nice necklace on your neck there..." the man pauses and your hear shuffling on the other end before speech continues, "...must have cost a fortune, right? I would hate to see blood stain such a gemstone, wouldn't you?"

You don't answer, head starting to feel light as you cannot physically process the amount of panic and stress you are experiencing, beginning to sway on your feet as you fall backwards, weak arms bracing yourself against the back bench.

"Answer me," the voice demands, breath heavy and echoing straight through your ears, settling in your head as you clear your throat and offer a meek, "yes."

"Yes what? You want to see it all bloody, feel your body becoming lighter by the seconds as I slice open your neck?" the man laughs, practically drinking your frightened tone.

"N-no!" you cut the man off before shucking in a sharp breath, closing your eyes as you feel heavy tears drip down your cheeks, I shouldn't have done that, shouldn't have said that, shouldn't-

"Then you know what you have to do then. Get me two million dollars by Thursday. Drop off point is Sullivan Dock at midnight... am I understood?" the mans voice is sharp, cutting right through your panic for a brief moment as you feel for a pen and write down the demands in a skewed script due to your shaky hands.

"I-" you begin to say, voice groggy from being filled with endless amounts of tears before clearing your throat and repeating, "I understand," In a clearer tone.

The man hums contently, "I look forward to seeing only you and that black bag of cash and know that... we are watching you... always." The call cuts suddenly, the device falls from your shoulder, clattering against the tiles as you slide against the cabinets to sit alongside it, staring blankly at the cold black screen as if it would somehow entertain a better resolve.

Your knees tuck up to your chest as you curl your arms around your legs, hugging yourself tightly as overwhelming hopelessness crashes over you, drowning you in its waves- your tears an outpour of the internal flood. Whatever am I going to do? How am I ever going to find 2 million dollars by the end of the week? What if I don't?

You feel sick and scared beyond belief thinking of Charles, your husband, coming home after a long flight back home to you... only to discover your corpse... you cry harder at the thought, sobs echoing in the empty home- the walls feeling like they are encompassing and suffocating you as you struggle to take in air.

─ · · You fail to notice the additional figure in the room that rushes to your side, falling to their knees as they gently call out your name, arms outstretched yet cautious as to not frighten you further as you have yet to react to his presence.

Your head snaps over, mouth opening for a potential scream before swallowing back a large lump in your throat as you practically throw yourself into Charles familiar embrace and take in the scent of his cologne.

Toned arms reach around and encase your figure, the pressure welcoming like a safety blanket as you shuffle yourself into his lap and silently cry into his shoulder.

Your husband does not pressure you to speak right away, simply rocking you both back and forth gently, kissing the top of your head as he shushes away your tears, "I hate seeing you cry, nothing pains my heart more than seeing you this way."

You welcome the comforting words to chase out the cold tone ringing through your head, focusing on your breaths to match his own, feeling as his large hands drag up and down your arms, "I'm here for you, always. Never for a moment question what I wouldn't do for you, my love... and if you're ready, I would like to know who or what made you feel like this?"

You hesitate, freezing in his embrace as the fresh fear like a deep wound reopened has you gripping his shirt and shaking your head. The Jackal's blood cools, expression hardening as you turn and hide your face in his chest- refusing to look him in the eyes. I can't bring him into this... I can't- your thoughts are cut off by the memory of his words, '...never question what I wouldn't do for you...'

"Whatever it is I-"

"I got this call and they said my mom owed a-and they wanted me and I just-need-two-million-dollars o-or-" you speak at a mile a minute and it does not help that your voice is muffled by the fabric of his shirt. He holds your head, gently prying you away to watch as your lip quivers before his own. "I need you to speak more slowly, sweetheart. I need to know exactly what they said," he speaks in a steady even tone that hovers between a cold demand and genuine concern.

Looking down as his eyes race to meet your own, you reach around behind you-not ready to move off his lap to help your search- needing his physical touch to ground yourself. You grasp the note you made in between your shaking fingers and softly read out what you wrote down.

The Jackal nods once as you look up at him hesitantly, expression neutral in an effort to hide the utter rage that flares up beneath his skin. His nostrils flare, eyes sharpened as he glares at the tear-stained note on the back of the receipt as if it were the man that threatened you itself. He would have to be long dead before someone thought they could touch you.

─ · · You are scared once again, starting to peel yourself away once noticing the tight fists clenched down by your sides and catching the tick of his head over your shoulder to see your shattered phone screen, listening to him growl deeply before slender fingers read over your printing, memorizing the information and the amount.

─ · · Thinking him to be upset with you, you quickly scramble to your feet and shake your head, begging- no, pleading to him, "please. I promise that I can work something out, Charles... you don't have to get involved with my families mistakes, you already do so much for me and-"

Charles grabs your phone and the note in hand as he stands, placing them gently on the countertop as he take three long strides to tower over your shaking form. You make no effort to touch him, simply forcing your head down to watch as your tears polish the tiles below.

Slender and calloused fingers grip your chin with purpose, forcing you to meet his stare which rattles your very soul, his words haunt you by how precisely he articulates his next words- as if a computer choosing the perfect combination to run- his other hand grips your hip firmly, keeping you in place.

"My wife is not going to go after some bandit," he states, tone as firm as his eyes, demanding your compliance, you shiver, a dozen conflicting emotions overcoming you and embarrassingly enough, your knees feel weak to the strength and sureness he speaks with and the utter desire to protect you he displays.

You open your mouth to protest before hesitating once feeling his forehead rest atop your own, you bite your lip. "Especially when her husband can and will fix this problem. You need not worry your pretty head about it anymore." He kisses you softly afterwards, making sure you think before making the attempt to protest again.

Not finding the strength to speak again, you fall forwards and into his arms as you accept to his words. Charles picks you up in a bridal carry and brings you upstairs before laying you down gently in bed. He sits at the foot of the covers, hands dragging up and down your calves affectionately as you fall beneath the blankets and pillows.

But just as you begin to wonder just how he plans on solving your... problem and as if telepathically knowing your thoughts, he pinches your leg gently, drawing your attention towards him once more to see as he shakes his head firmly. "I'll handle it and... have a conversation with your mother. I promise it'll all be over soon. Why don't you get yourself settled for the night and we can watch something in bed together-hm?"

"Okay," you whisper, heart skipping a beat at the small smile he offers you before leaning for another kiss from your lips before departing.

You look out towards the windows for a moment, eyes squinting- brain thinking to see a figure in the shadows. You start to slip out from beneath the covers, eyes darting to the door but once you look back... you see nothing. Rubbing your eyes and blaming the vision on your tiredness from all the crying, you scroll through the selection before choosing a night-gown and starting your skin-care routine.

─────── · ·

─ · · The Jackal walks to his office, gently closing and pressing his forehead against the door. A tight fist slams right beside his fist, knuckles bruising as he mutters a curse underneath his breath. For so long he was able to keep his worlds, both light and dark, apart from one another and yet your mother had to come around and fuck everything he had worked so hard to divide, clashing them against one another as his world turned grey.

─ · · He wished he appeared a few minutes earlier, could have tracked the call, bargained with the Bandit and yet in the safest place he made for you in this world was still not safe enough. Taking in a deep breath, he walks over to his desk, reaching over the table for the landline phone. He listens to its ring, once, twice, a prolonged thrice before the woman's voice sounds from the other end.

"Hello?" she calls out hesitantly.

"Hello [moms_name], let us avoid pleasantries and cut right to the chase. Why was there some criminal calling my wife's phone today?" Charles keeps his voice tight, the demand for more information coming across clearly down the line as he leans against the edge of his desk. The phones wire wrapped around his hand as he gazes out the window, peering into the emerging darkness of the evening.

"Criminal? I would not know such a th-" your mom begins to say in a rushed tone, the Jackal can practically smell her lies as his face scrunches up in disgust, I really should have severed contact earlier from you.

He cuts her off, clicking his tongue repeatedly against the top of his mouth, "Is that so?... huh... so if I were to ever-so politely swing over to your place, I wouldn't find anything... out of the ordinary for the mother-in-law I provide so generously to?"

Their is a long pregnant pause before he hears anything further, "you're welcome to, but you won't find anything."

The Jackal scoffs, "I was hoping you'd be able to admit the truth... but it seems my list grows with people I need to look after."

"You would never do such a thing, not to your wife, not to my daughter. She would never forgive you... and why won't you just pay off the remainder? I know you have the money to do so," your mother rebuttals, she knew what your husband was, confronted him after confirming her suspicions but she knew she would be in just the same out of trouble if she told you anything directly.

"Then I would just be allowing them to twist my arm into submission when no one should think to do so in the first place. I'm not getting you that money nor am I going to kill you but all I ask you is to remember this, do not take my pure generosity and run with it for the next time you yank my chain it will come back harder and faster. Good chat, [moms_name], I look forwards to seeing you this weekend for dinner."

Your mother begins to speak yet the Jackal slams the line closed before standing up and stretching before moving to his laptop and overlooking the surrounding area and buildings of Sullivan Dock where he could set himself up for... success.

─────── · ·

─ · · You are already drifting off beneath the warm covers before you hear the door open and you roll over on your side with a lazy smile. Charles smiles, kneeling beside the bed as he gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before placing a kiss to your forehead and dressing down for the night.

You lean back in bed watching as he elegantly places his cuff-links on the dresser, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it into the laundry bin alongside his pants before crawling into bed beside you, tucking your head underneath his arm.

Placing a kiss to his chest you listen as to every breath he takes and the sound of his heartbeat, his fingers draw random patterns against your skin, "I spoke with your mother. I want you and her to stay here for the next few days... just until the dust has settled."

"and what do you plan on doing, my love?" you peer up at your husband, blinking slowly as he leans his head down, hand falling to your hip, the other brushes against your cheek absent-mindedly.

"I'll talk with them and give them what they want..." he explains, before taking it all away.

"Thats dangerous, no? Charles I-" His brief kiss distracts you allowing his words to cloud over your head, "I promise that I'll return to you like I always do. Do you trust me?"

"Of course, I married you, Charles."

"Then trust me on this."

You pause, sitting up fully as he brings you closer to him, kisses trailing down from your cheek, to your jaw and neck. You close your eyes, letting out a long breath to answer in a whisper, "okay."

"Good. Now what show have you picked?"

─────── · ·

─ · · When Thursday rolls around Charles is no where to be found when you awaken in the morning. Your mother is asleep in the guest room down the hall as you trot your way to the kitchen and begin making brunch for you both. You don't see Charle's work-boots by the door nor his coat as your heart picks up its beat, anxious eyes flicking outside to the spot where you thought to have seen that figure last night is still bare.

─ · · Your mind races to the most terrible of scenarios throughout the day of what "fixing the problem" could possibly entail and even when you ask your mother for her opinion. She looks distantly past you, you squint your eyes not seeing anyone there but she simply shrugs her shoulders, "I'm sure Charles, has everything handled dear."

"How are you so sure? I mean he could be out there getting himself killed o-or what if he's already dead? God mom why did you have to get yourself involved with these things, it should be one of us out there when he had-"

A cough has you jumping in your seat and hastily turning around to see Charles, not a hair our of place in a simple pair of linen pants with a white t-shirt. He smiles at you brightly as your run and jump into his arms, feeling as you kiss all over his face and check his body for any injuries. His heart warms to your affections as he revels in them before staring at your mother coldly from across the room as he grips you tightly to his chest, never again, his eyes speak.

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: every time I think I'm over this show I see another edit, sigh, and then open Tumblr again LOL

─ · · JACKAL TAGLIST: @swiftietevitdrewjew @groovyponypatrollamp @alelo23 @apaperflowerreader @itz-stuts @moonlightmvrvel @nadixq

[amiserableseriesofevents]

to be the bad man

The Day of the Jackal fic, mature, ch. 1/?

“I know a few things about you,” he told her. “You need a place to stay. Up to three days ago you were blonde and your hair reached well past your shoulders. Someone spared your life, recently, and freed you from some chains you didn't know how to shake off.”

[our-future-is-up-to-us-2]

The Day Of The Jackal x UNO…

Oh shit the POTENTIAL

[our-future-is-up-to-us-2]

Currently happy because The Day Of The Jackal has official tags on AO3!!

This goes for both character tags and relationship tags! TDOTJ fic writers, rejoice <33

And thank you tag wranglers for wrangling through the various Jackal aliases JSJSJSJ

(This might’ve been a thing for a while but I’m sick atm and have not been checking AO3 unfortunately)

[eddieredmayneargentinablog]

"Eddie going undercover in Covent Garden? Now that’s a mission! 👀😅#thedayofthejackal #thedayofthejackal2024 #dayofthejackal #tdotj #eddieredmayne #eddieredmayneedit #undercover #undercoverboss #spy #spying #coventgarden #coventgardenlondon

🎥 #Repost @nowtv on Instagram.

[daeagon]

Theme/motive of water in TDotJ

I need to stop noticing more things and focus on finishing the birds analysis but I was thinking about River

When UDC was talking about River/introducing it at the concert he said things like 'wealth should flow into a resoire for everyone to use but it was only flowing into their own pockets' and there was the 'River will flow'

So its well established that River is connected to water, its even in the name

But when Jackal goes to meet the woman for the job he is watching a Grebe/Waterfowl on the water, I don't really know what to do with that now bit its something I noticed.

Also one other thing I've been wondering about is River is supposed to expose and show where money is coming and going, so wouldn't that effect Jackal? The money people have paid him would be there and it could be traced back to him. So him and his life are also in danger because of River

[moonwqves]

𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒.

THIS BLOG CONTAINS NSFW. 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI.

ᯓ ✦ 「 M.LIST | GUIDELINES | TAGS DIRECTORY 」 ✦ ᯓ

═════════════════════════════════════ ✉ inbox | open ˗ˏˋ꒰ ♡ ꒱ˎˊ˗ ✉ requests | open ㅤread guidelines before sending an ask .ᐟ

— ⊹ ˙ . 𖥻 recent fic | a life in vignettes - the jackal (tdotj)

fic recs : @snowfallrecs ═════════════════════════════════════

current hyperfixation: eddie redmayne.

© moonwqves 2024. last updated 20 february 2025.

[simp-ly-writes]

Pinning Me Down

─────── · · A TDOTJ FanFic

Pairing: The Jackal x F!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You were a private investigator known as "Operator Grey" for working both sides of the table, police and the underground equally. You pull the strings to narratives to maintain work yet not everyone appears happy with your puppeteering work as an "admirer" of sorts has you watching your back while not knowing they already have it in sights.

─ · · TAGS: second person perspective used, female-pronouns used, enemies/rivals to lovers, fluff and angst, scenes of stalking, blood, violence, injury, guns, and obsessive behaviours, hurt/comfort, arguments, lying, HIGHLY SUGGESTIVE THEMES, kissing, the Jackal being a ultra charismatic mf, not beta read or edited.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 2,668

─ · · A/N: thank you for all the Jackal asks! I know its been a little while, still hope you guys want to read a Jackal fic!

─────── · ·

─ · · As a personal investigator and private operator for high profile clients your job was simple on the surface level; gather information with no questions asks and leave undetected with the evidence or blackmail your client requested and stare at the generous pay check afterwards before putting it to use.

─ · · People paid for how 'simple,' swift, and effective your operations appeared- always providing the results the client wanted (sometimes even needed) and you did not shy away from going above and beyond, disguising yourself while providing encrypted information, hacking into government servers, following your targets across boarders and seas without a sweat, and occasionally offering your friday night for a round of drinks with your favourite clientele (though before anyone got too touchy you would politely excuse yourself).

─ · · But that was just what your job appeared on the surface; a simple woman with a love for luxury that gained her wealth by blending into crowds and documenting evidence for deep pockets... the thing is... you didn't care for any 'side.'

─ · · Light or dark, the legal or illegal, you operated in the grey space as the "Grey Operator," or simple "Grey." Infiltrating and networking on the surface and all throughout the underground networks on a global scale.

─ · · Anytime anyone would come close to putting you behind bars, all spy agencies and police around the world knew you, knew that you helped them as much as the people they were chasing like a puppeteer pulling all the strings and slipping just enough information for the endless cycle of cat and mouse between criminals and cops.

─ · · Yet it appeared not everyone was too pleased with being "bossed" around as it appeared recently that all the targets you got requested to look over were 'sadly' deceased upon your arrival, a simple rose planted in each of their mouths, a letter in their hands always addressed to you- "Miss. Grey." Tearing open the paper, a dozen rose petals fall from the paper and one to two lines appear underneath. Some have a snarky remark or simple observation about your habits, others a clue for where they buried the information you needed in order to finish your mission.

─ · · Your chuckle at how they remove the 'operator title' from your ails and the way in which they boldly assume you're not married; it charms you as it equally infuriates you that someone is watching you in the same way you do for everyone else, simply pulling you along their intended trail with every new contract you receive and every corpse you discover.

─ · · But your humour did not last for long as your reputation was starting to take a hit. It was all fun and games to start as you observed the stack of letters by your bedside and the singular withered rose you had in a vase within your kitchen... but you did not want to be pulled along any longer.

─ · · So you took a new job, the last one your 'admirer' you tagged them to be had requested you take in order to continue to follow their trail. The catch though? You held no plans on carrying through with this mission, instead you went to a lab, tracing back the rose to its origins alongside the ink, paper, and writing-style used, anxiously waiting back for the results for a potential slip up.

─ · · You tapped your foot anxiously against the tile, eyes flickering between your watch and the clock on the wall, debating which one was running faster (both were timed the same) but it did well to somewhat calm your nerves.

─ · · Feeling increasingly restless, you unpinned your hair, sighing and ringing your fingers across your sore roots while circling the room. You picked up various test tubes and dada sheets left by the last worker within the space, nodding your head along before a 'ding!' had you dashing back across the room and eyeing the screen.

... INK: BRITIAN

PAPER: SPAIN

FLOWER: PORTUGAL

PRINTING: NOT IN DATABASE, ENTER RESULT? ...

─ · · Your brows furrow as you press your face closer to the screen in hopes of discovering a newfound answer within the code only to come back empty handed. The person who had been sending you these... 'gifts' had to be rich in order to buy the various materials and travel to plant them and by the meticulous craft of every shot between the eyes, you had already narrowed them down to being a sniper-of-sorts but they still leaved hundreds of possible candidates if not thousands...

"I'll be honest, I was disappointed you didn't even try and go see my newest gift," a man voice sounds from behind you making you still, gripping the edge of the table. You begin to tilt your head over your shoulder yet their stern tone stops any further movement, "Stay where you are, Miss. Grey and tell me the little image you have imagined me to be before seeing the real thing."

You let out a quick breath through your nose and roll your eyes at the ego of the man behind you. Standing up straight and smoothing out your shirt, you try and squint at the computer screen to catch their reflection. "I won't strain your eyes, love, only your mind, now tell me."

You humourlessly chuckle, "You won't 'strain my eyes-hm?' So a man of murder, ego, and vanity, quite the impressive and if I may say horrifically 'attractive' man I'm building an image of," you strike while rolling your shoulder back.

You listen as the man shuffles footsteps that clack against the tiles, dress shoes, once distant now appear closer, a chair scrapes against the floor before they've taken a seat behind you, "I will only admit to one of those sins. I'm afraid the other are abhorrently wrong, Miss. Grey. Do try again but this time, use more of your brain."

Slamming your fist against the table you are vibrating with anger as the comment slips in through your ears and to the front of your mind, clouding any rationally you were holding onto after being quite literally stalked for the past few months and watching as all your long-standing clients ran from you without another word, all because of this man, you think to yourself, scrunching up your nose before taking a deep breath- squeezing your eyes shut.

"Middle-aged male, European- most likely British descent from the accent yet sounds too forced to Birmingham slang making me think you're actually from London," you tease hearing man grunt but before he can send his come-back you are already speaking, "you had military experience, a marksman or sniper... leaning towards the latter by how well you disguise yourself. I would know you if you worked over the table so you're an underground operative and to know my connections you must be working for someone well-established... and with deep pockets," you conclude, "cleared to turn?"

"You are cleared," they reply, tone appearing to disregard how impressed the man was by how well you could read into him by what little evidence he gave.

Turning around you see a middle-aged man, head tilted up to observe you in a similar way you do him, from the shoes up until your eyes meet and you squint, "contacts and your nose is peeling," you whisper, biting your lip and taking another step forwards, one hand trailing behind yourself with nonchalance while in reality you were feeling for the cold metal of your weapon.

Seeing your little slide of hand you watch as the man raises an eyebrow, "no need to get violent, Miss. Grey. You wouldn't want to be hurting a grade school teacher now would you?" Your eyes narrow at the fake badge that dangles from his chest pocket, a cheery-fake smile with animals stickers cluttered around it. "Well, 'Mr. Richards', I highly doubt that you even have a formal education let alone are teaching a group of forty children when you spend your Friday afternoons in a lab with random women."

"You think yourself to be random?"

"No. But I will be in a moment."

"Is that so? Then why do I have you pinned to a room so easily?"

"You? Pinning me?" you giggle, taking a few steps back and starting to back up your gear, throwing the rose by his feet, observing how it crumbles across the white tiles, little red petals all splattered about like blood. "I would like to see you try," you tease before sharply darting out of the room hearing as the dash after you yet you know these halls like the back of your hand, dashing around a corner and bursting through a window you know to be able to fall through at a safe height into a pile of trash.

Standing up with a hull, rolling your ankle while looking up, you cast 'Mr. Richards,' a wink before walking off with the rush-hour crowd of those getting of work and sink into the subway system without a trace.

─────── · ·

─ · · You would like to say that was your last time running into said man yet he always found another way to you no matter where you seemed to turn or who you worked with... it was as if they were tracking your every move as you made it, that would be impossible though.. I've swapped phones at every stop and gotten all new passports.

─ · · The man, you know know to be as "The Jackal" in one of his recent entries to you still helped you with your work (as in doing it for you and offering you the entire pay check with his added 'gifts' again). You didn't know weather of not to feel disturbed anymore or intrigued to learn more as the notes became longer, the killing of your clients less frequent as he apologized for taking away your work while explaining he had his own jobs to fulfill in the past, and you with every city to ventured to, you thought to see his features pop up in the most crowded of places that made your heart race.

─ · · The Jackal would occasionally greet you in-person (of course when you least expected it). Take the club for instance when he ordered you a drink at the bar before spinning you for a dance and leaving at the sound of the next song like a mere figment of your imagination. How about that one time he waved you goodbye at the airport before boarding a separate flight or that time he acted as waitstaff to an event you were infiltrating.

You remember that night vividly, feeing as his longer slender fingers grabbed the coat from off your shoulders, draping it across his forearm before quickly leading you inside and into a discrete corner to offer some... advice? Before commenting on how beautiful the shade of blue made your complexion look and leaving before you could process his words and went back to hyper-focussing on your mission.

─ · · You hate to admit to yourself now how smoothy that mission ended up going with his feedback and escape plans and how well you both seemingly worked together like a seamless... effortless transition every time your paths would cross again. Just like to puzzle pieces falling together.

─ · · That once irritation now infatuation by how quickly he could rile you up with just a few words and how equally quickly he could calm you and crazily enough, you found yourself relaxing to his presence. Even looking forwards to it and waiting, hoping for the random face in a crowd to be his... you felt pathetic by how fast your heart was running before your brain. Any initial concern going out the window when the moment he complimented your work so earnestly, eyes so wide and welling with truth that you couldn't hold yourself from falling and forgetting parts of yourself in the process as you spiralled and fell into his arms, felt his kiss to your forehead, heard his voice calling your name in the private of one of your homes or felt how his hand gripped your thigh as he drove you both across seaside roads to soak of the sun.

─────── · ·

─ · · You shake the feeling of an over looming stare you never seem to find off of you before turning into your motel room. You had found yet another successful job and were ready to reap the rewards with a five-star vacation away from all the stress you had been experiencing.

─ · · Knocking off your boots and flinging off your itchy wig you sigh, feeling overwhelmed by all the layers of clothes you wear before stepping into the bathroom but the door appears to be... locked?

You jiggle the handle, "just a minute, Miss. Grey," a voice sounds from the behind the wood that has your hand stilling on the metal handle before being flung forwards and into a warm chest as the door is ripped open sending you with it, "good to see you again too," the Jackal teases, lazily casting an arm around your waist as you huff and pull away, feeling his lingering touch against your skin haunting your bones as you walk backwards and sit upon the bed.

The Jackal smirks, crossing his arms and leaning against the hallway arch, staring at you, "It has been some time since we've last seen each other, I thought you'd be all over me by now" he teases, eyes crinkling at the way you scrunch your nose up just like the first day he met you- watching as you foot taps against the floor as you think of a retort.

"Me? All over you? I think you have these roles revered, Mr. Jackal-sir," you smile, hands drifting back on the covers as you lean backwards, drinking in his relaxed appearance.

The Jackal slowly stalks forwards, standing before you before crawling over top of you as you fall back against the mattress, smiling up brightly as he traces your jaw, "and to think," he leans in slowly, breath hot and heavy against your ear as you squirm beneath him, "you'd say I'd never pin you down." He bites your earlobe before leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, across your collarbone and back up to your lips where he settles with a groan as you wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles around his lower back and smiling into the feeling of his lips on yours.

You both pull away breathless as you reach up, fixing a few golden curls that bounce across his forehead- pulling them back and leaning forwards for another kiss, "Don't make me eat my words now or you'll be left with your hand for the night," you warn, starting to pull away.

The Jackal simply places more of his body weight on you, casting you a glare, "like you'd be able to form words if I had my way with you."

"Wanna bet?" you trail one finger from his lip, down his jaw and neck before feeling his chest and the rapid beat of his heart- watching as his eyes darken to your words, "what does the winner receive?"

"Well why don't we ask them at the end? I'm sure she'll come up with a fair answer," you giggle, starting to pull at the neck of his shirt in a silent ask for him to remove it.

The Jackal does not budge, simply staring deeply into your eyes before briefly flickering down to your parted lips, "She-hm? Well I don't think he has ever lost a bet."

"It would be a pleasure to be the first one to hold one over you then."

"We'll see about that."

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: I would lose- wait who said that?? lol

─ · · JACKAL TAGLIST: @swiftietevitdrewjew @groovyponypatrollamp @alelo23 @apaperflowerreader @itz-stuts @moonlightmvrvel @nadixq