#jack solomon

Andrew "Pope" Cody | Animal Kingdom

One-Shot

Welcome to the Family (C)

Bjorn | Alien: Romulus

One-Shot

You Keep on Sayin’ You in Love Tho, So Tell Me, Are You Really Down? (Yeah) (C)

Two-Shot

Let's Make Love, That Be the Only Reason That You Hit Me Up

Chaptered

I Said Just a Little Bit, Then I Got a Taste of It

Brett | Eden Lake

One-Shot

Chainsaw Darling (C)

My Favorite Doll (C)

Record, Ruin, Repeat (C)

Two-Shot

Patient: Confidental

Calisto | 300: Rise of an Empire

One-Shot

A Gladiator's Reward (C)

Eamonn Docherty | The Runaway

One-Shot

Lollipop (C)

Jack Abbot | The Pitt

One-Shot

Bed Chem (C)

Delivered (C)

Doctor's Orders (C)

For What It's Worth (C)

House Calls (C)

Jack Solomon | Seberg

Two-Shot

By the Book

James Cook | Skins UK

One-Shot

My Teeth Are Sharp Like a Great White Shark (Let Me Taste That Flesh It’s My Favorite Part!) (C)

Neighborly Conduct (C)

Test Run (C)

Tier After Year (C)

Wishful Thinking (C)

While You Were Sleeping (C)

Chaptered

I Like the Way You Kiss Me

Series

We're Fated to Pretend

What Freddie Doesn't Know

Slut Tax

Freddie's Mum Has Got it Going On

Kyle Budwell | Money Monster

One-Shot

Trigger Finger (C)

Owen Brompton | Finding Emily

One-Shot

Practice Makes Perfect (C)

Paddy Mayne | SAS: Rogue Heroes

One-Shot

Desert Heat (C)

Remmick | Sinners

One-Shot

Across the Threshold (C)

All Around the Blooming Heather (C)

As if It's Heaven's Gate (C)

Better Watch Out (C)

Bloodbound (C)

I Thee Bled (C)

Let the Right One In (C)

Mercy Made Flesh (C)

Rewrite the Stars (C)

Sanctified (C)

Something Wicked This Way Comes (C)

Upon the Scarlet Altar (C)

Two-Shot

Under the Blood Moon

Sir Jimmy Crystal | 28 Years Later

One-Shot

As Above, So Below (C)

Held In Bloom (C)

Mother, May I (C)

Chaptered

Heavy Lies The Crown

Titus Danforth | Ready or Not: Here I Come

One-Shot

Bride of the High Seat (C)

Hazard Pay (C)

Walter "Lion" Kaminski | Jungleland

One-Shot

Silent Night, Soft Lights (C)

The Weight of Wanting You (C)

Three-Shot

All That's Left Is Yours (C)

Series

Jack has always been something of a voyeur. It’s his job to listen in, to watch from outside. 

But you knew that from the beginning of your relationship, before he even started with the Bureau. 

You met at university in the same literature course, and he had noticed you from the first day. The intention in your strokes as you took your notes, the funny way your head would bob as you followed the professor’s hand on the chalkboard. The girl next to you was braver, always ready to raise her hand. But Jack spied you leaning over to tell her questions you were too nervous to ask. 

He had sought out your help with an assignment about a month into the course. 

“Why would you want my help?” you asked him, eyes on the floor. 

“You take better notes than me.”

“How do you know? You don’t even sit near me.”

Your words were light, not accusatory. Almost playful. 

“Do you want me to sit near you?”

He saw your eyes go wide when they met his for a split second. You thought it over for a moment.

“We could go to the library tomorrow,” you offered.

“I’d like that.”

After your study session– which had been filled with lots of hushed giggles from you and Jack slowly inching closer in his seat– he asked you on a date.

“Would you… wanna go see a movie with me?”

“Like a date?”

“If you’d like it to be a date.”

“I would.” 

When he came to get you, he gazed at you dreamily through the window of the women’s housing you lived in as you nervously fixed your hair in the mirror. There was something so lovely about you, about the way you were preening so meticulously. He loved watching you when you thought nobody was looking. Seeing the cute scrunch in your nose when you found a crinkle in your skirt, smoothing it out with your hands. 

You opened the door moments later to Jack, red in the face with the flowers he bought clutched in his hands.

“Are those for me?” you asked sweetly. 

He nodded. 

“Nobody’s ever bought me flowers before,” you murmured, taking them into your arms.

You cradled the bouquet gently, almost like a baby. Jack could have died right there. 

“Oh! I-I’m sorry, the lady who manages the house is so strict about men. I’m just gonna put these in some water and I’ll be right out.” 

He stood just outside the door, once again watching you as you filled a vase from the sink and placed the flowers into it, positioning them to fan out. You plucked one of the peonies and snipped the stem with a pair of scissors, then scurried back out to him. You placed a hand on his chest and threaded the stem through the button on his lapel. 

You looked at his face then, grinning. 

“Gosh, you look handsome.”

“Are you ready?” he asked, trying to disguise how badly he wanted you. 

You nodded.

You always sat next to each other after that, and Jack asked you to marry him just before you graduated. 

You’ve been married for two years now, and just moved to Los Angeles. Jack works most of the time, but you enjoy being a housewife. You and Jack are much more intimate than your friends, and the other Bureau wives you’ve met. You pity them for how much they seem to not care for their husbands at all. 

You love Jack, and he can’t get enough of you. Your sweet smile and your laugh and that you always want him in the bedroom. 

Jack adores that you let him watch you. When he comes home from work and just lingers in the car, admiring you in the kitchen through the window. He can hear music playing faintly, eyes fixed on your mouth as it moves along to the lyrics. 

When he wakes up in the morning and you’re in the shower, and he just slightly opens the door to look at you through the mirror, how you let the warm water run down your body and your eyes close when you feel it.

When he’s home later than he’d like to be and you’re asleep. He waits in the doorway, watching you breathe softly. He swears you have some sort of supernatural sense for him, because– eventually– you’ll turn over and mumble his name, willing him to come to bed. 

You can tell when he’s watching. He’s not as sneaky as he thinks he is, but you let him do it, just because you know he likes it. Sometimes you think he’ll figure it out, when you take your stockings off teasingly or slowly wrap your towel around your body when you step out of the shower. 

You sit across from him at your small dinner table as he wolfs down his food. You hold your fork in your hand as you’re lost in thought.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks you, his mouth half-full.

“What?”

“You have that look on your face.”

“I was just thinking… you… like looking at me,” you begin carefully.

“Of course I like looking at you. You’re my wife.”

“No, no. Of course you do. Um… not looking… watching? You like watching me.”

Jack hesitates, food halfway to his mouth on his fork. His eyes flick up to meet yours.

“What do you mean?”

“Jack, if you think I can’t tell, I’m worried about your career,” you joke lightly.

He blushes, shifting uncomfortably. You see him preparing to defend himself and quickly speak before him. 

“I’m not mad,” you assure him. “Gosh, if anything, I’m flattered.”

“Flattered?” he mumbles, surprised by your feeling. “Why are you bringing it up?”

You reach over and squeeze his hand.

“Because I like it.”

You raise your brows, trying to will him to understand this desire. 

“I mean that… I really like it.” 

He blinks at you, lost. You feel your cheeks heat as you look away from him. 

“Jackie,” you whine. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Oh,” he utters, blowing out air. 

“I’m going shopping tomorrow… and I’ll pick out something special. And you’ll be… somewhere I can’t see you? With a camera?”

He swallows nervously.

“You… you want me to take pictures?”

You nod. 

“And I was thinking you could call me and you can talk to me but you could pretend you’re listening to us at the same time?”

“If I call you before and we record it, I can play it back and-”

You’re in his lap in seconds, hands cupping his clean shaven face and kissing him.

“You really wanna do this?”

“Yes! Gosh, isn’t this exciting?”

He squeezes your thigh, resting his hand on your knee.

“Just… tell me if you’re not having fun and we’ll stop, alright?”

You giggle and kiss him again. He picks you up, sliding his arms under your back and your knees. You squeak, holding onto him.

“What about dinner?” 

“You can warm it up,” he says, quickly carrying you to the bedroom. He sets you down, sitting you on the bed.

“Can I watch you take your clothes off?” he asks, overexcitedly. 

You smirk and start to undo the buttons on your dress.

“Wait. Wait… p-pretend I’m not here.”

“What?”

“Pretend I’m not… you can’t see me.”

Jack leans against your vanity, lightheaded. You seem to look right past him, checking your hair in the mirror. As you ease your dress down your hips you inspect your breasts, squeezing them in the simple bra you wear. Your husband bites back a moan, gripping the wood so hard you worry he’ll splinter it. You unclasp your bra at the back, sliding it down your arms and putting it with your dress on the back of the chair. You turn, glancing back at your backside in your underwear. You bend over in front of him to roll down your stockings.

“Oh my God, baby,” he groans.

You can’t keep down the giggle in your throat and you turn around, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him.

“Need you real bad, Jackie,” you breathe, your hand trailing down his shirt to palm him over his trousers. 

He whines, his mouth open against your grin.

“I think I’ve been a bad girl, Agent.”

“No, sweetheart, you’re perfect,” he whispers, picking you up by the waist and tossing you back on the bed. 

He quickly undresses, haphazardly leaving his clothes behind him. You run your hands down your bare thighs, only your soaked-through panties left on your body. You hook your thumbs in your waistband and slowly ease them down your legs. Jack– not usually so impatient– snatches them from your hands and drops them to the floor. He slots between your legs and you bite your lip at the sight of him. Hard, flushed, the head pink and the vein at the side of him pulsing and pronounced.

“Jackie,” you coo. “Give it to me.”

Your hand splays over his heart and slowly drifts down, your nails scratching oh-so-lightly until you feel that patch of hair leading down to his cock. You wrap your hand around him, pumping once, then twice, and pulling a wrecked sound from his throat as you stroke a third time.

“God, y-you’re really gonna let me w-watch you?”

“Mhm…”

You guide the tip to your cunt, his eyes wide, pupils blown, and gaze fixed on your lips. He’s completely lovestruck, drunk on you and the feeling of your soft, warm hand on his cock. He slowly pushes into you, savouring how your head tilts back and your mouth falls open when you feel the stretch.

“Oh, baby,” he grits. “God, y-you’re so wet…”

“All for you, Jackie,” you sigh, feeling contentedly full when he bottoms out. 

He pulls out inch by inch and pushes back in even slower, making you feel it all. When he’s buried in you again, you gush around him, soaking his length and making him squirm.

“I’m not g-gonna la-st long,” he admits, his voice cracking desperately. 

“That’s okay,” you comfort him, taking his hand and kissing his fingers. “Just get me there and we can do it together…” 

He rubs your clit carefully, the way he’d precisely tweak the dials on his audio equipment. When you gasp and clench around him, you feel him twitch inside of you. He buries his face in your neck, his blush spreading to his ears– something you’ve always thought was so adorable. 

“Give it to me, sweetheart, I-I need to feel you.”

His other hand squeezes your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers.

“Oh, Jack,” you mewl, hips bucking to meet his deliberate thrusts. 

“Please, honey, please…” 

“I want a baby!” you blurt.

“Wh-what?” he pants, pulling back to look at you. 

“Let’s start a family, Jackie… I wanna have your baby…” 

His thrusts speed up as he stares at you stupidly, his jaw hanging open and his hands planted by your head. Your hands rest on his chest.

“Please? Please, I-I know I’ll be a good mother… a-and you’ll be such a swell father, Ja-!”

You’re cut off by him picking up your hips and sitting them on his thighs as his careful strokes turn into Jack pounding into you.

“You want a baby?” 

“Yes!”

“Fuck, I’ll give you a baby, I’ll give you a baby right now, honey, oh my God,” he winces, pushed all the way in and grinding against you.

“Oh- oh, shit, J-Jackie-”

“Please? Please cum for me, honey, please lemme give you a baby…”

“Gimme a baby, Daddy,” you tease, whimpering when his pace becomes even more punishing.

“Yeah? Yeah? I’ll give you a baby, pretty girl, make you the most beautiful mama in the world,” he growls, hitting your cervix with every frantic push of his hips.

The muscles in your body tense and you grip his arm hard enough to leave a handprint on his pink-flushed skin. You’re sobbing as he fucks you through your orgasm, and– with growing urgency– slams into you until he makes a strangled noise and spills in your cunt. 

“My girl, my girl,” he murmurs, face in your neck. “My pretty girl, I-I love you th-the most, honey, God…”

He kisses your cheek, pulling out slowly.

“The bedsheet,” you whine.

“I’ll put it in the wash.”

He grins at you. 

“We gotta record that phone call.” 

After a day of preparation, finally you both wake up for breakfast. Jack takes a shower as you fix his plate.

His arm snakes around your waist as you stir cream into his coffee.

“Good morning,” you chirp, turning your head to kiss his cheek.

Your chaste morning peck is accepted, and Jack’s hand splays over your tummy.

“God, I hope it doesn’t take long,” he mumbles.

“What?” 

He turns you around and boxes you in against the counter. His lips meet yours in a rough kiss, his hand cupping your cheek.

“What’s gotten into you?” 

“I’m excited for our date tonight,” he says, eyeing your peachy lipstick and rubbing his thumb over your cheek. 

You’re surprised at how much he’s playing into the little story you created.

“Is this new?”

“You’ve seen me wear this a hundred times, Jack.”

“Mm, that’s right. You wore this one at that barbecue we went to.”

Your cheeks heat when you remember Jack driving into you, his arm around your waist with your dress pushed up around your hips, taking you over the bathroom counter of a new coworker’s house. 

“Wh-what if somebody hears us?” you whispered.

Jack moaned quietly at the thought, his lips pressed to the back of your neck. So many of his fellow agents seemed to have tense and unloving relationships with their wives. But there you were, rocking back against him and kissing his temple when he moved to put his head on your shoulder. 

“Next time we go to one of these parties I’ll leave my panties at home,” you half-joked. “Save you some time.”

Still pushed against the counter, he kisses you again, nose against your cheek.

“Love you so much,” he murmurs. “You’re so- fuck, you’re so pretty…”

His hand fists into your skirt.

“Maybe w-we could just… before I hafta go?” 

“Just what?”

You’re both flushed and halfway to breathless, eyes locked together.

“You have work, honey,” you remind him sweetly.

“I know, but-”

You kiss his cheek and straighten his tie.

“Save it for date night.”

“Oh, I will.”  

You’re washing dishes when the phone rings.

“Solomon residence,” you answer sweetly.

“Well, hello, Mrs. Solomon.” 

You grin. 

“Hello, Agent,” you tease, hearing the familiar chatter of him calling from the office.

“Listen um… I was just calling because I’ll be missing our date tonight,” he emphasises the word. “I have some work to do.” 

“Oh.” 

You feign disappointment. 

“I bought this new thing though, Jackie…”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. I’m sure you can have fun on your own though, right?”

“I’ll try.”

“I’ll see if I can give you a call before bed.”

“I’d like that.” 

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Jack.”

You’re giddy the whole day as you wait for the evening to roll around. You put on your special lingerie when you got dressed, and you’ve felt so wicked wearing it under your sweet dress. 

Jack had kissed you dizzy that morning and left you wanting. Your body has been humming, more and more as you’ve watched the clock tick by until bedtime. 

Jack has never been more glad that you two bought this house. Though you don’t have children yet, you had convinced him with pouty lips and wide eyes that you should just keep the treehouse for when you do.

“Oh, wouldn’t that be so sweet? A couple of little rascals playing castaway in the treehouse?”

The idea of you as a mother had Jack hard in his slacks, which he had to try his best to hide until you were back in the cramped hotel room the Bureau had put you up in while you two looked for a proper house to settle into. 

Now he’s set up in that treehouse, with a perfect view of you in the soft warm light of the bedroom window. You left the curtains open. You begin to unbutton your blouse, and Jack presses play on the recording for the unplugged phone. 

You know when it’s meant to ring, eight o’clock on the dot. You pick up the phone and smile.

“Hello?”

“Hi, honey.”

“Hi, Jackie.”

Your honeyed voice has him melting already, loosening his tie as he continues to listen. He heard this already, when you both made the tape, but it’s no less exciting at the moment. 

“Did you have dinner already?”

“Mhm. It’ll be in the refrigerator for you.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it.”

“That’s alright. Work is important.” 

“Listen, I’m all alone right now… I’m in this hotel for the night and I… I guess I just miss you so bad, sweetheart.” 

“I miss you too, honey,” you murmur, a little breath on the tail end of your voice. 

You continue undressing, and Jack squirms watching the pretty dress slide down your body. His eyes go wide and he almost knocks over his camera when the lacy little babydoll slip underneath is revealed, the incredibly short hem showcasing your legs. 

“I wish you could see what I bought, Jackie…”

“Why don’t you tell me about it?”

“Oh, no, Mister. You’ve gotta be here to see it.”

“You’re a tease.”

“Gosh, Jack… I’m still thinking about the other night.”

“Yeah?”

He swallows at the sound of his own voice. He’s not much for pretending, but the added layer of want in his own timbre is no act. 

In the bedroom, your hand slides down between your thighs to the sound of your own tape playing.

“Maybe we can play house a little more when you’re home.”

“Keep talking like that and we won’t just be playing house.”

“Would you be a strict father?”

“When I need to be. And when their mother needs it, too.”

“Gonna put me over your knee, Daddy?”

“Why would I do a thing like that? You’d like it.”

Your voice giggles, which you roll your eyes at. You flip up the slip’s ruffly hem, revealing nothing underneath. You take care to face the treehouse and part your legs. Jack twists the lens, magnifying the image and looking at you, snapping a photo of your middle and ring finger sliding between your lips. Even in the low lamplight of the bedroom, he can see that you’re glistening. 

He’s thankful he set up the tripod, quickly undoing his trousers and shoving his hand into his briefs.

“I heard that. Feeling lonely baby?”

“So lonely, Jackie… it’s cold tonight…”

“Wish I was warming you up. Why don’t you touch yourself, honey?”

“I am,” you whine.

“Oh, so you’re a naughty girl. Couldn’t even wait for me to tell you.”

You whimper in the recording, and Jack is already stroking himself. You can see him trembling even from so far away, and you slide one of your fingers inside of your cunt. It’s nothing like Jack’s thick digits, and you’re lacking his warmth and the need in his voice, hearing how much he loves you with his shaking breaths and moans in your ear. 

“Not the same, huh?”

“Not at all,” you agree.

“God, I wish this was your hand around me.”

His voice drops to a low rumble.

“Fuck, I really wish it was that sweet pussy, baby.”

Your breath hitches, and in the moment, you’re adding another finger and bringing your other hand down to toy with your clit. You do it in that mean, teasing way Jack prefers.

“Playing rough, honey?”

“You’re always rough with me.”

“Only when you deserve it.”

That makes you giggle, in the recording and now. Jack can see you laughing, stroking his cock with a firm grasp and a slow rhythm, swiping his thumb over the tip and trying to keep his voice down– he is in your backyard after all. His gaze stays fixed on the magnified image of you with the giant and not very subtle lens. He’s aching for you, to fill you up again and keep that promise to make you a mother. His hand is going fast now, sweat dripping from his brow as he bites back a whimper, seeing tears run down your pretty face in frustration.

“It’s not enough…”

“You got two fingers in, baby?”

“Mhm…”

“Put in one more. Three of yours is like two of mine.”

“Yes, Jackie,” you sniffle, obeying him. 

It was real on the recording, but you’ve had to force yourself not to use all three from the start, knowing that was what you needed to push yourself over the edge.

“Jack-”

“Y’gonna- ngh- cum for me, sweetheart? W-will you do it? I wanna hear it, baby, I gotta hear it. I promise I’ll be home soon. Fill you up so good, make sure my pretty wife gets everything she ne-eds, oh fuck,” he growls.

Jack works his hand over himself at a torturously slow pace, matching the speed of your fingers clumsily fucking into your soaking cunt. Though your fingers are slow, you circle your clit as fast as you can, pressing into it the way Jack does. 

“That’s it, baby, that’s it, ke-ep going,” he encourages you. 

You’re whining in time with yourself on the recording, like a strange and erotic case of déjà vu. You feel that familiar coil tightening in your stomach, red hot and ready to spring. Jack feels the same way in the treehouse, balls tightening at your voice on the recording and at the sweet, pouty look on your face. He moves back to avoid breaking the camera with any jerks of his head.

“Jack, I-I’m gonna- oh, God!”

With two more circles, you’re sobbing into your pillow, gushing on three fingers and bucking your hips against the heel of your palm. Jack is spilling over his hand, sticky and hot and wasted outside of your cunt– especially when he should be getting you pregnant. When you’ve both caught your breath, both in the moment and on the phone, you give a soft giggle. You wave him down from the bedroom as the tape clicks, indicating it’s finished playing. You shut the curtains on wobbly legs, flirty and coy at once. 

Jack isn’t too far behind, making his way down and back inside. He pushes the bedroom door open to capture your lips in a messy, charged kiss.