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Pedro Pascal with weapons, this is the post
#pedro pascal#pedrohub#gladiator ll#agent whiskey#oberyn martell#joel Miller#pedropascaledit#pascalispunk#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#pedro pascal fandom#pedro x reader#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x reader
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Kinktober 2024 Masterlist
Hello to everyone interested in this year's Kinktober by me!
Here you will find a few things I would like you to familiarize yourself with:
All stories are written by me and all of them are intended for MDNI so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
All stories are fiction and are not intended to offend anyone.
This is Kinktober with only Pedro Pascal characters such as:
Joel Miller â The Last of Us Oberyn Martell â Game of Thrones Din Djarin â The Mandalorian Javier Peña â Narcos Jack Daniels âAgent Whiskeyâ â Kingsman: The Golden Circle Francisco (Frankie) âCatfishâ Morales â Triple Frontier Marcus Moreno â We Can Be Heroes Dieter Bravo â The Bubble Reed Richards â The Fantastic Four: First Steps Marcus Acacius â Gladiator 2
Please read the warnings under each of the works I wrote before reading and do not interact if any of them discourage you. Some stories are not for everyone and that's okay!
I do not allow my works to be copied and distributed without my consent.
All works will be available under this hashtag - #sanarsi kinktober 2024
Main Masterlist
Day 1 â Threesome
QZ!Joel Miller x f!Reader x QZ!Tess
You have no way to pay for the goods. Tess finds a way for you to pay, Joel joins with pleasure.
Day 2 â Hunter/Prey
dark!Din Djarin x f!Reader
Din has one problem with you, you often like to run away from him. Luckily he loves playing this game with you.
Day 3 â Monsterfucking
monster!Oberyn Martell x f!Reader
Your poison lessons with Oberyn went wrong when he accidentally drank the wrong potion.
Day 4 â Food play
Marcus Acacius x prostitute!f!Reader
General likes to brighten up his evenings with your companion. This time he's in the mood for more fun.
Day 5 â Edgeplay
dark!Din Djarin x f!Reader
Din learns to control the new power that has been given to him. However, the Darksaber has an influence on its owner and you will be the first to know about it.
Day 6 â Pregnancy
husband!Jack Daniels x wife!f!Reader
Jack finally made you carry his baby. The sight of you with your rounded belly makes him unable to get enough of you.
Day 7 â Sensory Deprivation
boyfriend!Frankie Morales x f!Reader
You and Frankie like to experiment in bed and this time you took the initiative to play with him.
Day 8 â Uniforms
husband!Reed Richards x wife!f!Reader
You try on your new uniform for the first time. Reed can't keep his hands to himself at the sight of you.
Day 9 â Massaging
Javier Peña x prostitute!f!Reader
Javier is one of your regular and favorite clients. You are always willing to fulfill all his requests but today he needed more from you than just sex.
Day 10 â Knife play
post-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader
After Joel killed all of your comrades, he kept you as a reward. Unfortunately, you weren't willing to cooperate, so he used more drastic methods to make you obey him.
Day 11 â Face Sitting
Dieter Bravo x f!Reader
Dieter has run out of drugs, so he asks you to keep him occupied.
Day 12 â Handjob
Oberyn Martell x prostitute!f!Reader
Oberyn is busy discussing important matters for the kingdom but he can't resist taking care of you as you sit thirsty on his lap.
Day 13 â Bondage
Din Djarin x f!Reader
Din tests new bondage techniques on you and decides to take advantage of how defenseless you are.
Day 14 â Sex Toys
husband!Marcus Moreno x wife!f!Reader
You and Marcus have decided to spice up your married life, so you're more than willing to let him test out on you the toys he bought.
Day 15 â Gun play
Javier Peña x prostitute!f!Reader
You've always been interested in Javier's work, but you've never brought it up with him before. He finally decides to show you what a DEA agent is capable of.
Day 16 â Wax play
lover!Marcus Acacius x f!Reader
Marcus loves watching you arch in pleasure beneath him, but he loves watching you squeal in pain and pleasure even more.
Day 17 â Mirror Sex
coworker!Jack Daniels x f!Reader
One of your missions went wrong and you ended up stuck in a mirror maze.
Day 18 â Nipple play
Dieter Bravo x f!Reader
Dieter loves spending lazy evenings cuddled up to you, but sometimes he also likes to interrupt you a little while you're reading a book.
Day 19 â Thigh Riding
Din Djarin x f!Reader
Din is often busy piloting the ship, which is why he doesn't have as much time for you as he would like, and because of that he doesn't mind for you using him for your own pleasure.
Day 20 â Double Penetration
Reed Richards x f!Reader x Marcus Moreno
Two superheroes have decided to save you from trouble, and you want to repay them.
Day 21 â Bath Sex
Jack Daniels x f!Reader
You were used to Jack often coming back hurt and sore. You always took care of him after each mission and bandaged his wounds but this time he needed more than just a few bandages.
Day 22 â Teasing
fiancé!Javier Peña x f!Reader
Your fiancé can't keep his hands to himself even when you're at a family dinner
Day 23 â Glory Hole
Dieter Bravo x f!Reader
Dieter sometimes had drug cravings and now he found himself in one. He didn't know how he ended up at a run-down gas station in the middle of the night but he knew he had met a nice woman who wanted to make his time more pleasant.
Day 24 â Voyeurism
Oberyn Martell x prostitute!f!Reader
Oberyn liked to please himself in many ways. Today he wanted to watch you and your friend have some fun together.
Day 25 â Somnophilia
boyfriend!Frankie Morales x f!Reader
Frankie often likes to cuddle in his sleep. He is also very sensitive to your touch, which is why you can't help yourself when he moans your name in his sleep again.
Day 26 â Ice play
pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Joel uses every moment your daughter is away to keep you in bed. He also likes to spice up your sex life with things he reads on the internet.
Day 27 â Public Sex
boyfriend!Frankie Morales x f!Reader
Your trip to see a movie took an unexpected turn when it turned out you were almost alone in the cinema.
Day 28 â Dom/Sub
lover!Marcus Acacius x f!Reader
After his failed conversation with the Emperor, Marcus needs to feel like he's in control of everything. You just so happen to be everything to him.
Day 29 â Period Sex
husband!Marcus Moreno x wife!f!Reader
Your husband helps you with period pain.
Day 30 â Praise Kink
Reed Richards x student!f!Reader
Reed likes to reward you for a job well done.
Day 31 â Hate Fucking
coworker!Jack Daniels x f!Reader
Another mission with Agent Whiskey tests your patience to the limits. The dislike is mutual, so you end up in each other's arms to numb the negative emotions.
COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED
#kinktober#kinktober 2024#kinktober masterlist#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#oberyn martell x reader#oberyn martell smut#din djarin x reader#din djarin smut#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian smut#javier peña x reader#javier peña smut#jack daniels x reader#jack daniels smut#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey smut#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales smut#marcus moreno x reader#marcus moreno smut#dieter bravo x reader#dieter bravo smut#reed richards x reader#reed richards smut#marcus acacius x reader#marcus acacius smut
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Hot Chocolate
Pairing: Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels x f!reader
Summary: You lead a quiet, boring life in a podunk town, but when a certain secret agent stumbles into your world needing your help to catch a criminal at the local carnival, your quiet little life changes forever.
Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, canon-typical violence (fist fights, whips and lassos, of course), smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, dirty talk, sexual tension
WC: 6.5K
Written for @pedgito's Summer Lovin' challenge â€ïž
Humidity clung to the air, and although the sun had long set, the heat hung heavy in the fairgrounds but that didn't keep the whole town from coming out to the carnival that night. You lived in a small town with not a lot to do but every year the same carnival came through and set up shop for two weeks, attracting people within an hour's drive, and every year since you were sixteen you worked there for some extra cash. Back when you were younger, your earnings tended to go towards the booze you brought to the parties in the middle of the woods, surrounded by the familiar faces of people you grew up with and their siblings. Now that you were in your twenties, that money was put toward rent and a car payment.
When you were sixteen, you had a very different idea of what your life would look like by now. Hell, you didn't even think you'd be living in this town, let alone working the same shitty waitress job at the same shitty restaurant while you tried and failed to come up with a better career path. Money was tight and the last thing you wanted to do was move back in with your parents, so you picked up extra jobs here and there. The carnival wasn't a bad gig. Pay was based on seniority and since you had worked there for so many years, the money was good and the jobs were mostly pretty fun, but it was only two weeks and you would be back to pinching pennies again.
But a week before the carnival was scheduled to arrive, a handsome man with dark hair, even darker cowboy hat and yellow aviators strolled into your restaurant with a cocky smirk and requested to sit in your section, and everything changed.
You had greeted him like any other table and subtly stole glances his way while he studied the menu, trying to figure out if you recognized him. No, you surely would remember him. Aside from his obvious good looks, he stuck out amongst the usual crowd. Dark grey, form fitting suit with a matching tie and cowboy boots? That... you definitely would have remembered.
He leaned back in the booth, one arm draped across the back of the worn cushion while his eyes slowly dragged down your frame. You glanced around nervously, suddenly feeling like you were being judged, then his eyes traveled back up and stopped on your name tag. He repeated your name out loud as if it were a question and finally looked into your eyes. His intensity sent a shiver down your spine but you nodded, confirming your name, and he smiled. It was a slow smile, one that began as a twitch in the corner of his mouth and tugged to one side, pulling his dark mustache with it until his lips spread so wide you could see his teeth. They were straight and he actually still had all of them. Yeah, he definitely wasn't from your hometown.
He didn't come back into the restaurant after that, but it wouldn't be the last time you saw him.
Two days later you made a pit stop by the Piggly Wiggly for some groceries. You made your way through the parking lot to your beat up car, stopping dead in your tracks when he came into view. He was leaning casually against your driver's side door, one ankle hooked over the other and still wearing that suit. Or maybe it was a different suit. You couldn't remember but what you did remember was the bead of sweat that trickled down from underneath his Stetson, leaving an enticing wet streak along the side of his head. He said your name and smiled, trying to disarm you, but you were still wary. He held up both palms flat as if to prove he wasn't dangerous but something told you his hands were just as threatening as any other weapon.
"Got a minute to talk, sugar?"
You glanced around the parking lot and swallowed, every natural instinct screaming at you to run back inside the store for help but instead you found yourself slowly walking towards him, as if being pulled by a magnet or some other enchanting force.
It was a bit of a blur after that. He flashed his badge, Jack Daniels, it read, with the word Statesmen being tossed around quite a bit while he explained what he did for a living, all of it sounding rather impressive but also confusing. Espionage. Spies. Undercover.
"What's all that got to do with me?" you had said. He smiled.
"Glad you asked."
Apparently he had been trying to track down a dangerous arms dealer for years. With some information Jack squeezed out of a low level guard, he discovered the arms dealer was able to be so successful because he traveled with the carnival to evade local and federal law enforcement. Always being on the move kept him under the radar, and now Jack had his sights set on taking him down when the carnival arrived in your town, but he needed help.
Jack needed someone who was on the inside, someone who earned years of trust by working for the same people and living in the same town, someone completely unsuspecting.
You.
At first, you said no, unwilling to put yourself at risk even though he promised he would be hiding in the shadows and would be in constant communication with you through an earpiece and camera. Then he offered up a few thousand dollars to sweeten the deal and your resolve crumbled. He promised you would be under government protection and your involvement would be minimal: you just needed to find the target and let Jack know which booth he was going to work. Plus, you really needed the money.
That was how you found yourself in the mid-afternoon before your shift started being suited up with impressive, high tech gear. Jack watched patiently from the corner of the trailer. For the first time, he wasn't wearing a suit. He elected to wear a pair of dark wash jeans and a white tshirt that clung to his broad chest but he was still sporting his signature cowboy hat. A beautiful woman named Ginger outfitted you with a nearly invisible earpiece and installed a microscopic camera in the button of your polo shirt. She assured you there was a tiny microphone in the camera and that Jack and the entire team assigned to the case would be watching and ready to jump into action if anything went sideways.
Simple enough, you thought.
"How're you holdin' up, darlin'?" Jack mumbled, pinching your elbow between his fingers as he led you out of the unsuspecting double wide that currently hid Ginger and all her expensive equipment and into his Bronco.
"Uh..." you began, throat suddenly feeling dry when he started the car and turned onto the familiar stretch of road. They had set up a base in the woods about two miles away from the carnival which meant you would be there in less than five minutes. Your head was spinning, the adrenaline suddenly coursing through your veins and making you lightheaded. "Not so great, actually."
He turned his head and studied you for a moment before pulling off the road and throwing the car into park. He shifted in his seat so he could face you, one elbow resting on the back of his seat and the other on the steering wheel. "I ain't gonna let anythin' bad happen to you, you hear me?" You hadn't realized your breathing was becoming more labored and your face felt hot. He was probably just worried you were about to pass out and that's why he reached out to cup the back of your neck, forcing your attention off the carnival peeking through the trees and onto his face. Your gaze lingered on his dark brown eyes and chiseled jaw and hooked nose that looked like it would be perfect nestled between your thighs.
"You promise?" you whispered, tone a little more sultry than you intended. He swallowed and nodded.
"'Course. I'll be right there the whole time. All's you gotta do is tell me where he's gonna be and I'll do all the dirty work," he told you with a wink. Your eyes darkened a fraction, having a completely different idea of what kind of dirty work you'd like him to do before you blinked and snapped out of it. You chalked it up to your nerves but it was too late. He saw it in your eyes and he clenched his jaw, his gaze flickering down to your lips and then to the camera in your shirt before slowly pulling his hand away from the back of your neck.
"What code word d'you wanna use in case you need help and can't say it?" he asked, shifting back into work mode and merging into traffic.
You thought it over for a moment, grateful for the distraction.
"Hot chocolate."
He cocked an eyebrow and grinned. "Hot chocolate?"
"Yeah, I don't think it's something I would accidentally say because who the hell would order hot chocolate in this heat?"
He smiled wider. "Fair enough."
Jack dropped you off at the entrance of the carnival, reminding you he wouldn't be far behind and to stay alert. You bobbed and weaved your way through the crowded thoroughfare, the late afternoon sun beating down on the masses as they pushed wagons of children or carried various prizes under their arms while drinking cold lemonade or licking ice cream to combat the heat. You managed to get to the air conditioned office five minutes before your shift started and clocked in before examining the schedule. Jack had warned you the target wouldn't use his real name, so he made you study multiple photos of him the day before. Balding, but a dark horseshoe of hair curved around his head. He had a mustache, too, but not like Jack. The target's mustache was bushy and unkept, but Jack warned you that could have changed. He had a paunchy belly and he was approximately 5'10" but the most notable feature was a wide, pale scar that stretched from his right elbow to halfway down his forearm.
You glanced around the somewhat crowded office. Nobody seemed to fit that description so you focused on the schedule. You were set to work the lemonade stand. One of the more boring jobs, but at least you were with one of your good friends, Stephanie, who was working the candied apple stand next door.
"All good?" you heard Jack's gravelly voice echo through your earpiece. You had no idea how to answer that without looking like you were talking to yourself so you turned to a mirror and gave a quick thumbs up. He chuckled and you had to bite back a smile. "Alright, where are you workin' so I can get set up nearby?"
Again, you weren't sure how to answer but just then Stephanie breezed through the door. You called out her name and waved as she punched in and headed over to you, giving you a sweaty hug.
"We're working together tonight. You're on apples, I'm on lemonade next door," you told her, hearing Jack confirm your location in your ear.
"Awesome, should be a slow night after dinner," she replied, hooking her arm through yours and leading you back out into the busy dirt road lined with vendors and food carts.
As she predicted, you were rather occupied until the sun set and people began to indulge in fried dough and rides, leaving your little section of the fairgrounds quiet. For the first time in hours you glanced around, wondering if you could spot Jack, but he was no where to be found.
"So, did you meet any guys so far this summer?" Stephanie asked you, leaning over her counter and popping her gum loudly between her molars.
"Nah, not really," you replied, feeling the tips of your ears burn, knowing Jack was listening. "You?"
"Just one but he turned out to be an asshole," she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. "We gotta get out of this town, girl. I swear there's no one good left. I'm either related to them or already dated them and I can't stand any of 'em."
"Yeah, maybe one day," you replied, glancing around again.
"I'm serious. Maybe we oughta make a plan, y'know? Like we always said we would? Ain't you sick of waiting tables?"
"Like you wouldn't believe," you muttered. "But where would we go? We don't know anyone outside of here."
"I got a cousin up north, maybe we can visit her and see how we like it."
For a second you almost forgot the mission when, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a man matching the target's description disappear into the crowd. You squinted but you only saw the back of him and he was quickly getting away.
"Hey, can you cover for me?" you asked, already tossing your apron off and smoothing down your skirt.
"Yeah, sure. Been dead here for the past hour, take your time."
You hustled down the street, pushing people out of the way as you tried to catch up with the man you saw.
"Sugar, I lost ya, slow down," Jack's voice crackled in your ear.
"Can't, I think I saw him," you replied.
"Do not engage, y'hear me?" Jack said sternly. He sounded breathless now, no doubt rushing to catch up with you.
"I won't, I just wanna see where he's going."
You broke through the crowd and swiveled your head from side to side, desperately trying to spot the balding man. Now that you thought about it, he looked like he was wearing the same color uniform you had on. Your pulse raced as you turned around frantically, and just when you thought you lost him you spotted him walking up the steps to the house of mirrors. When he reached out to open the door, you saw the telltale scar and gasped.
"Jack! It's him!" you said, racing through the crowd again, dodging groups of children laughing and eating cotton candy.
"... stay... where are... losin' you-" you heard Jack's voice cutting in and out through your earpiece but the excitement got the best of you and you charged forward into the house of mirrors, the door slamming shut behind you, leaving you in a mostly darkened room. The only sounds you could hear were muffled conversations from families walking by.
"Jack?" you whispered, tapping on the earpiece and taking a few shaky steps forward. "Jack, if you can hear me, I'm in the house of mirrors. He's-"
"Looking for someone?" a man's deep voice said from over your shoulder, making you jump. You swiveled around and tried not to gasp in fear. It was him: Vic Leary, aka The Falcon. It was almost laughable how Jack had been chasing the man for years only to have him directly in front of you after a few hours. He took a menacing step forward and you swallowed tightly.
"Yeah, actually. I'm looking for my friend," you said, taking a small step backwards, a step deeper into the attraction.
"That right?" Vic sneered, taking yet another step closer. "Well I'm the only one here. Sure you ain't looking for me?"
You shook your head vehemently. "N-nope. I'm supposed to meet a friend here any minute, he's meeting me with some hot chocolate," you said the last part loudly and Vic frowned. Then he seemed to piece together that you were bugged or maybe he just saw his opportunity to strike because he lunged forward. Luckily, you were prepared and stumbled backwards out of reach, causing him to fall forward on his hands and knees. You spun around and raced through the dizzying hall of mirrors, Vic's angry curses and threats shouting after you.
The next tunnel had a wall of mirrors that shifted, causing you to feel like the floor was moving. You stretched your arms out and blinked rapidly, stumbling through and glancing over your shoulder in a panic, wondering where he went. It was quiet. His yelling stopped. Did Jack find him?
The next room was a literal maze, the walls and ceilings covered in mirrors, some curved and warped, some jagged and angular. You couldn't think of a worse place to hide and you needed to get the hell out of there.
"Can anyone hear me?" you whispered into your polo shirt, wincing when all you heard was sharp feedback in your ear. You turned a corner, jumping when you saw movement but calmed down when you realized it was your own reflection six times over. You heaved a sigh of relief and took another look around, trying to decide where to go next when a big, sweaty body jumped out from behind a mirror in front of you, tackling you to the ground. You screamed bloody murder and tried to squirm away, but he had you pinned to the ground with a hand around your throat. You scratched and kicked and yelled but it was no use. His fingers gripped the side of your throat and he watched with a sick smile as you struggled to drag in air, all the while clawing at the backs of his hands so hard, you drew blood. And just when you thought you might pass out, a black cowboy boot swung from behind your head and kicked Vic directly across the jaw, making him yelp in pain and fall backwards.
You coughed and scrambled away, clutching your throat and looking up to find Jack, his shoulders and chest heaving and his eyebrows pinched together in fury. Without taking his eyes off Vic, who was cupping his mouth, his hand collecting blood, he asked, "you alright, sugar?"
You could only nod and he told you to wait for him outside, but when you stood and took a few steps back the way you came, you saw Vic stand up and run in the opposite direction, nimbly dodging the mirrors, too familiar with the maze to be slowed down. Nostrils flared, Jack reached for his belt and grabbed a braided piece of leather. His thumb pressed down on a small button and like magic, the rest of the whip unfurled at his side. He then spun it over his head twice before snapping it forward, circling around the target's neck and yanking him back to the ground with a grunt.
Jack disappeared deeper into the maze, his grip tight. You looked over your shoulder, back to the entrance, then groaned and followed Jack. When you rounded the corner, he was towering over the suspect, whip back on his belt, Vic looking like he was knocked out cold. You peered around the last mirror, hiding from view while Jack pressed something on his watch and began to speak to a small hologram of an older looking man with a beard. He was telling him that the suspect was in custody and needed backup while he dug out a pair of metal handcuffs with his free hand.
Jack was distracted and didn't realize Vic had begun to move, but you did. When Jack's back was turned, Vic quietly rose to his feet and pulled out a knife from the back of his pants. He raised his arm above his head, ready to plunge the blade into Jack's throat. You raced forward and swung your leg out, hitting the backs of his knees with your shin and bringing him back down to the ground with a thud before he had a chance to inflict any harm.
Swirling around, Jack ended the call without warning and punched Vic directly in the nose. You heard a sickening crunch of bone and a howl of pain from the man's throat, but just as Jack was about to grab his arms and haul him to his feet, Vic rolled to the side and jumped up with a surprising amount of agility. Jack groaned and reached behind him, pulling out what appeared to be a lasso. He calmly glared after Vic, who was nearly to the exit, while circling the rope above his head. The lasso began to glow an icy blue, mesmerizing you for a moment until he snapped it down with an electric crack, wrapping and pinching the rope around Vic's lower leg.
You couldn't believe your eyes when his leg cleanly and completely severed below the knee. Slapping both palms over your mouth to muffle your screams, you curled up on the floor and watched as Jack approached Vic, who was making noises so pained and fearful that you were certain you would hear them in your nightmares for the rest of your life.
Jack was handcuffing him and warning him he shouldn't have run while the man sobbed pathetically in a pool of his own blood. You just stared, your whole body trembling at the carnage, completely numb. You didn't even hear when three other agents breezed past you to collect the target, followed shortly thereafter by a small cleaning crew wearing protective gear from head to toe. Suddenly the maze, which seemed so massive before, was cramped and making you feel claustrophobic.
His eyes finally met yours once Vic was officially in custody. His expression went from one of relief to one of deep concern when he saw the state you were in and he rushed forward to collect you off the floor.
"Hey, don't look at that," he murmured, but your gaze was still pinned on the blood staining the floor. "Eyes on me, darlin'."
You forced your eyes away from the mess and onto him, like he requested, but you were finding it difficult to breathe. Each inhale was a struggle, like your lungs couldn't expand all the way, and each exhale left your ears ringing.
"Get me out of here, Jack."
He nodded once and helped you stand. With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, he ushered you back through the maze towards the entrance. Once you were able to take in a deep breath of fresh, humid air, you started to feel a little better but the adrenaline was still coursing through your body, making you feel like you were practically vibrating.
People streamed past you laughing and joking, blissfully unaware of what just happened while you sat on a nearby bench with your head between your legs. Jack soothingly rubbed your upper back and waited for you to calm down. Your energy was too intense, the vivid images of what you just witnessed too strong and Jack seemed to sense it.
"Here," he said, leaning back and lifting his hips from the bench. Your eyes instantly locked onto his lap, where his fingers began to remove a small flask from his belt buckle. When he handed it to you, hoping the alcohol would help calm your nerves, you just continued to stare, all wild eyed and rabid.
"Have a little, it'll help," he urged while trying to ignore the hungry look in your eye. You blinked slowly and, with shaky fingers, took the flask and unscrewed the top. You winced a little at the burn but a minute later, your stomach felt warm and your muscles relaxed. You handed it back to him and he took a sip himself without breaking eye contact with you, then fastened it back onto his belt. You leaned forward, once again feeling inexplicably drawn to him, and brushed your fingertips lightly over the flask. You were playing with fire and you knew it. His eyes bore into yours with a blazing heat and he whispered, "you need somethin' stronger, sugar?"
You sunk your teeth into your lower lip and nodded. He stood up and grabbed your hand, glancing around the fairgrounds manically, the adrenaline from the past twenty minutes getting the best of both of you, it seemed.
The choices were limited and the closest area with any semblance of privacy was the bathroom and you both seemed disgusted by that prospect because he muttered fuck it under his breath and dragged you off the main road towards the dark parking lot.
Once he reached his Bronco, he twisted around and violently yanked at the buttons on your polo shirt. You yelped in surprise but when he opened his hand and showed you the button he tore off with the camera attached, you nodded. He flung it into the mud and dropped his earpiece, then you scrambled to do the same. Once you were as alone as you possibly could be, he pinned you against the side of his truck and pinched your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up to look at him.
"You sure?" was all he asked, pupils blown wide.
You nodded. "Please."
He groaned and crashed his mouth against yours, dropping his hand from your jaw to wrap around the back of your neck. He tasted like Jameson and you imagined you did, too. "Such a polite little thing," he whispered before plunging his tongue inside your mouth and licking past your teeth. You were moments away from unzipping his jeans and letting him take you right then and there when you heard a chorus of laughter from the next row of cars and you pulled away, gasping for air. Jack appeared just as wrecked as you felt, eyes all wild and skin hot with arousal.
"C'mon," he said, as if reading your mind he tugged you away from the car so he could open the door to the backseat. You practically launched yourself inside and by the time you spun around he was slamming the door shut behind him. He gazed at you for just a moment before shedding his cowboy hat and pressing your body into the seat, picking up where he left off. You took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of leather and gunpowder and his cologne, all ingrained in the fabric after years under his care.
His lips traveled down, grazing against your jaw and nipping at the spot behind your ear. His mustache tickled your skin, making you giggle, and you felt him smile against your throat at the sound. His lips latched onto your neck, sucking a bruise there while your hands dipped underneath the hem of his white tshirt. The fabric bunched up around your wrists the higher your fingers traveled up his torso, reveling in the way the muscles in his back twitched under your touch. Then his hips dropped against yours, resting his weight heavy between your legs, and you sucked in a sharp breath.
"Jack?" you whispered hoarsely.
"Mhm?"
"I-I want you," you stammered when his thumbs brushed over your breasts, nipples hardening through your shirt. "Want you so bad."
"You got me, sweetheart. I'm all yours," he mumbled, teeth scraping gently over your collarbone as he continued to move achingly slow further and further down your body.
You moaned and arched your back, pressing your chest into him. "Jack, I want you now," you tried again, and he clicked his tongue with a smirk.
"Where'd those manners run off to?"
"Please," you groaned. He hoisted himself up, holding his weight above you, the palms of his hands pressing into the seat on either side of your ribs.
"Say it again f'me, sugar. Y'just sound so pretty when you're beggin' for it."
"Please," you whispered this time, then dragged your hand down his stomach, stopping to cup his erection through the thick denim of his jeans. You rubbed the palm of your hand up and down enticingly, drawing a quiet moan from his throat. He hissed and pressed himself into your hand, rocking his hips and watching your fingers work him up and down. "Please, Jack, I need you."
His eyes flashed up to yours once before he sat back on his heels, fumbling with the tiny flask on his belt with an urgency that told you he heard exactly what he wanted to hear. He tossed both items on the floor before undoing his jeans and then, seeming to remember you were still fully clothed, dragged his hands up your thighs and under your skirt. His palms cupped your ass and squeezed before hooking his fingers around the edge of your panties and tugging them down. You lifted your hips to help, feeling slightly disappointed there wouldn't be enough room or time for either of you to fully undress, but you would make do.
"Goddamn, that's a pretty sight," he groaned when he pushed your skirt up enough to get a good look between your legs. He ran the pad of his thumb through your slit and you began to squirm impatiently. "Now, normally I'd prefer to take my time," he began, and your heart thundered wildly in your chest when he pushed his jeans down and pulled out his cock, hard and leaking. "But it would appear we don't have the luxury today, darlin'." He used one hand to steady your hip and the other to line himself up with your entrance, then you held your breath when he started to press forward, parting your walls and forcing you to stretch around his girth.
"Shit," you whined, tipping your head back and squeezing your eyes shut.
"Yeah, that's it," he whispered, watching as he slowly disappeared inside you, only looking back to your face once he was buried to the hilt. "How's that? Feelin' better now?" he asked a little breathlessly. You nodded and forced your eyes to open.
"Feels good," you murmured, licking your dry lips and gasping when he began to move. "Yeah, just like that, faster - please faster," you added hastily when you remembered his comment earlier about manners. The corner of his mouth curled up into a smirk before falling forward onto his elbows. He tugged one of your knees up so you hooked your leg around his waist, spreading your hips wide before feverishly latching his mouth onto yours, muffling your noises when he began to snap his hips faster and deeper.
"This what you needed?" he whispered in your ear. You tightened your arms around his neck, holding him close, the desire suddenly overwhelming to have him completely consume you and keep you in the safety of his arms. "Needed me to fuck you and turn that little brain of yours off for a while? Hm?"
"Yes," you admitted shamelessly. He was fucking everywhere. His mouth was drifting from your lips to your neck to your ear, his hands groping and gliding along your stomach or legs, his cock sliding smoothly in and out, each time catching on that one spot that made you see stars. Even his body heat felt like it was fully encompassing you. And he was right: it was exactly what you needed.
"Christ, too fuckin' good, sweetheart," he breathed, his hips stuttering for a moment before resuming a punishing pace. The way his lips melted against your own while the tip of his cock reached a depth inside you didn't know was possible was making your vision blur and your breath ragged. You were so caught up in the moment that you hadn't yet considered you wouldn't see him again after that night. Nor did you have a chance to realize how long you had been gone from the lemonade stand. Nothing else outside of his car mattered.
"Jack," you whimpered as heat began to lick and wrap around your spine. Your stomach tightened and your mouth was wide open, pulling in mouthfuls of air as quickly as you could. You were so close but you just needed a little more. He was busy pushing your polo shirt up and yanking down your bra, his hot tongue swiping greedily over your nipples one at a time with an appreciative groan before he sunk his teeth into your soft flesh, no doubt trying to leave a mark to remember him by.
"Love the way you say my name, darlin'. Music to my ears."
As if he could read your mind, his had slipped between your bodies and began to thumb at your clit. Your thighs tensed and you cried out, his name the only word your brain was able to conjure up, which, based on his enthusiastic reaction, pleased him greatly. You couldn't stop yourself. Your body began to meet him, thrust for thrust, your hips rolling, matching his rhythm and forcing his thumb to apply more pressure. Before you even had a chance to warn him your orgasm crashed down around you, so powerful and intense that it sent you reeling, his name and a string of unintelligible curses the only thing falling from your lips. And he fucking loved it.
"Oh, look at you," he groaned, "pretty little thing, all fucked out. Goddamn, you're gonna make me come, darlin'." His large hand splayed across your ribs and he stared, slack jawed, at the way your tits bounced from the force of his thrusts. "Shit, shit, shit," he grumbled, his jaw locking as he closed in on his release. "Where, sugar?"
"Inside," you moaned, trying to force your eyes to stay open so you could watch. He clicked his tongue against his teeth and dragged his eyes back up to your face.
"Don't say that."
"Please," you whispered, and you could see his resolve crumbling.
"Fuck," he groaned, then he shifted so he could grab onto your hips with both hands. It didn't take much longer, but each thrust after that was harsh and unforgiving until his body stilled and he came with a broken moan that you made sure to commit to memory. He panted for air and tilted his head back when he was done, his fingers still gripping your waist. An incoming call came through, lighting up the face of his high-tech watch, but he ignored it. Once he caught his breath and he began to soften inside you, he rolled his head forward, gazing down at you in admiration. "You're somethin' else," he rasped, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a half-smirk.
"You sound surprised," you teased.
"I am, but not because of this," he said, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against your lips. He slid out of you with a grunt and you sharply sucked in air at the loss. His dark eyes lingered a moment on his spend dripping out of you before gently fixing your bra and top. The sweet gesture made you smile.
"What, then?"
He grinned and tucked himself back in his jeans, then handed you your panties. "You saved my hide back there, brave girl," he murmured, pinching your chin affectionately. "Kickin' his legs out like that. Didn't know you had it in you."
You shrugged and tugged your underwear back on. "I didn't really think about it, he was going to stab you, I had to do something."
He hummed and leaned back in the seat, watching as you fixed your skirt and tried to tame your hair in the mirror before spotting his discarded cowboy hat on the floor. You grinned and picked it up, plopping it onto your head with a giggle. "How do I look?"
"Fuckin' beautiful," he said, making you laugh, "although you're doin' things a little backwards, sugar."
"What do you mean?" you asked, taking it off to see if you put it on wrong. He smiled and gently took the hat from your fingers and put it back on your head.
"The rule is, you wear a man's Stetson, you gotta ride the cowboy, but seein' as we did that already..." he trailed off and you giggled again when you finally understood. "But I suppose it depends on who you ask. Could mean somethin' else, too."
"Oh yeah? What's that?"
"Some say if the cowboy lets the lady wear his hat then he's interested in seein' her again," he said softly, watching as you became flustered at the suggestion.
"Oh," you breathed, feeling your skin heat up under his gaze. Reality slowly began to seep in. Now that Jack found his man, he would go back to wherever he came from and your boring life would go back to normal. But then he hooked a finger under your chin so you would focus back on him.
"Would you like that?"
"Would I ... yeah, of course, but-"
"I heard what you were sayin' to your friend. 'Bout wantin' to move?" he said, dropping his hand and shifting his weight. "What if we had a spot for you at the agency? Maybe doin' somethin' with Ginger, learn the ropes a bit? I think you got potential, sweetheart."
You laughed and shook your head. "I can't do what you guys do, are you serious?"
"You got guts. We can teach anyone how to use a weapon, but guts? That can't be taught."
When it became apparent he wasn't joking, you cleared your throat and glanced out the window. "I don't know..."
"You said yourself you're sick of waitin' tables," he reminded you, then pulled out a white business card and handed it to you. "I know it's a big decision. Think it over and gimme a call." He paused for a moment and a slow smile spread across his face. "But how 'bout you gimme a call either way?"
"Okay," you practically whispered, looking down at the card before shoving it safely in your pocket. He pushed open the door and slid down to the ground, then turned around and held out a hand for you.
You spent the rest of your night thinking over Jack's offer, replaying over and over in your mind everything you learned about the Statesmen in the past week and trying to imagine if that was something you could possibly do. You had pretty much decided it was a stupid idea, that it was dangerous and things like that didn't happen to girls like you, but when you punched in for your shift at the restaurant on Monday and looked around the dining room at the same patrons eating the same food they always did, listening to the same boring gossip and worrying about the same bills that always plagued you, something finally snapped. You tore off your apron and tossed it behind the computer before snatching your purse and walking out the front door without a second glance behind you.
You got into your beat up car and breathlessly dialed the number you had been staring at all weekend, your heart slamming in your chest excitedly. When Jack's familiar drawl answered on the other end, a huge smile spread across your face.
"That offer still stand, cowboy?"
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can you do odd!reader responding to her partner w/ a breeding kink?
absolutely! im so so sorry for taking the longest amount of time to respond to this anon </3
odd!reader not picking up stuff is so real to me
Fem, Masc, and Gn reader featured
[fem/afab]
God you were so pretty, was all he could think. Even from the back you were utterly beautiful. His cock continued thrusting into your slick walls. Heâd slide his dick out till it was just his tip notched inside your entrance before pounding back in. It was a hypnotizing rhythm that had you drooling into the pillow beneath you.
The other pillow held your hips up, keeping you presented nicely for him. His hand crept around your hip to draw shapes on your clit. Seeing the way your folds stretched around him made his dick twitch inside your cunt. âFuuuck. Gonna fill you with up yeah? Have you carry my babies? Dâbe such a good mom.â He choked out without a second thought.
He, of course, was the only one not giving it a second thought. You always gave it a second thought though. Craning your neck, you shot an almost worried look over your shoulder. âIâm on birth controlâŠand weâre not ready to be parents.â
If he hadnât been balls deep in you he might have laughed. His hips snapped before slowing down in shock. âNo itâs- itâs just dirty talk, babe. A saying?â You blinked as the cogs in your brain turned, a smile brightening your features once you realized. âOh! Okay.â
Seeing you move on so swiftly had him shaking his head and beginning to thrust into you again. His teeth sunk into his lower lip as he focused on how you clenched around his dick, fucking through his confusion. It wouldnât be the first nor last time it happened.
[masc/amab]
God you were so handsome, was all he could think. Even from the back you truly were attractive. His cock continued thrusting into your walls. Heâd slide his dick out till it was just his tip notched inside your entrance before pounding back in. It was a hypnotizing rhythm that had you drooling into the pillow beneath you.
The other pillow held your hips up, keeping you presented nicely for him. His hand thumb rested at the top of your ass, watching the lube drooling out over his cock. Seeing the way you stretched around him made his dick twitch inside your ass. âFuuuck. Gonna fill you with up yeah? Have you carry my babies? Dâbe such a good dad.â He choked out without a second thought.
He, of course, was the only one not giving it a second thought. You always gave it a second thought though. Craning your neck, you shot an almost worried look over your shoulder. âThatâs not possibleâŠ.and weâre not ready to be parents.â
If he hadnât been balls deep in you he might have laughed. His hips snapped before slowing down in shock. âNo itâs- itâs just dirty talk, babe. A saying?â You blinked as the cogs in your brain turned, a smile brightening your features once you realized. âOh! Okay.â
Seeing you move on so swiftly had him shaking his head and beginning to thrust into you again. His teeth sunk into his lower lip as he focused on how you clenched around his dick, fucking through his confusion. It wouldnât be the first nor last time it happened.
[gender neutral]
God you were so hot, was all he could think. Even from the back you were captivating. His cock continued thrusting into your slick walls. Heâd slide his dick out till it was just his tip notched inside your entrance before pounding back in. It was a hypnotizing rhythm that had you drooling into the pillow beneath you.
The other pillow held your hips up, keeping you presented nicely for him. Seeing the way you stretched around him made his dick twitch inside you. âFuuuck. Gonna fill you with up yeah? Have you carry my babies? Dâbe such a good parent.â He choked out without a second thought.
He, of course, was the only one not giving it a second thought. You always gave it a second thought though. Craning your neck, you shot an almost worried look over your shoulder. âWeâre not ready to be parents.â
If he hadnât been balls deep in you he might have laughed. His hips snapped before slowing down in shock. âNo itâs- itâs just dirty talk, babe. A saying?â You blinked as the cogs in your brain turned, a smile brightening your features once you realized. âOh! Okay.â
Seeing you move on so swiftly had him shaking his head and beginning to thrust into you again. His teeth sunk into his lower lip as he focused on how you clenched around his dick, fucking through his confusion. It wouldnât be the first nor last time it happened.
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i think i need someone older âžâ€ïžâžâ
#itâs giving dbf!#mi amor pedrito :(#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#agent whiskey#jack daniels#javier peña#kingsman#narcos#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey x you#jack daniels x reader#jack daniels x you#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#agent whiskey smut#jack daniels smut#javier peña smut
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Pedro Pascal Masterlist
***some links do not work :( please inbox me if you need help navigating a fic!
SMUT:
Call Him Daddy
All for Me?
Soft Lover
Mando's Kinks
Friends with Benefits on Narcos
Trying for a Baby
Fingered to Tears
Degrading
Fucking Enemies
Cowboy Hat Rule - Agent Whiskey
Obsessed - Javier Pena
The First Time - Din Djarin
My Toy - Din Djarin
Inexperienced - Oberyn Martell
Punished - Joel Miller
FLUFF:
Movies and Edibles
Rain at the beach
Pretty
Stay with Me
New Years
Pretty Boy
Southern Accent
Proud
Accidentally Spotted
Welcome Home
Spanish
Cleaning his Glasses
Admiration
I'm Home!
Wink Wink
I'll Keep You Warm
Bad Day
Physical Touch
Unexpected Christmas Together
Nervous Mistletoe
Costume Change
Sugar Daddy
Drunk in Love
Power's out
Do I Look Pretty? - Dad!Pedro
New Neighbor - Agent Whiskey
Home - Marcus Moreno
Cat's Out of the Bag - Marcus Moreno
Sleepy - Din Djarin
First Kiss - Din Djarin
I Love You - Din Djarin
In This Together - Din Djarin
A Well Needed Hug - Din Djarin
You Can Stay - Javier Pena
Is This Your Shirt? - Javier Pena
Dating - Joel Miller
First Kiss - Joel Miller
Oh Baby - Joel Miller
Oh Baby - Joel Miller - Part 2
Nicknames - All Characters
ANGST:
Lasso - Agent Whiskey
Helping Hand - Din Djarin
Save me - Joel Miller
Memories - Part 1
Memories - Part 2
MISC.:
Husband!Pedro moodboard
Instagram
Instagram
Instagram
Instagram
Instagram
Instagram
Instagram
Instagram
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal imagines#pedro pascal blurb#pedro pascal blurbs#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fluff#pedro pascal angst#pedro pascal smut#the mandalorian#the mandalorian x reader#din djarin#din dijarin x reader#agent whiskey#agent whiskey x reader#kingsman the golden circle#oberyn martell#oberyn martell x reader#game of thrones#javier pena#javier pena x reader#narcos#joel miller#joel miller x reader#rpf#actor rpf
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in our ivory tower
â Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x f!Reader
â 1.1k words
â You enjoy the view from the top with your boss.
â Rated MA // unprotected p in v sex, creampie/cum play, gratuitous groping, semi-public sex, a little dash of exhibition kink, power dynamics kind of // reader has female anatomy and uses feminine pronouns, reader is generally able-bodied
The view from the top floor of the Statesman skyscraper is breathtaking. Youâve been here for months at this point and you still donât think youâll ever truly get used to it. You swear you can see all the way to the other end of Manhattan from hereâmiles and miles of glistening steel and glass that make you feel so inconsequential, so anonymous. Itâs a good feeling.Â
The Statesman tower is a far cry from the little apartment in Hellâs Kitchen that you share with three roommatesâthis is luxurious, decadent. Everything is modern and brand new, everyone is dressed to perfection in clothes that probably cost more than you make over the course of a month. Youâve always felt like you donât quite belong hereâyou mightâve even quit by now if it werenât for your gorgeous view and the gorgeous boss.
The panorama of the city skyline is only elevated by the gut-clenching thrill you get when youâre pressed up against the sturdy, full-length window like this, with your boss pounding into your pussy from behind like thereâs no tomorrow.
Thereâs always a little paranoid thought in the back of your mind, as you look down at the street a hundred stories below you, that youâd be fucked if the glass gave way. Not that Jack would ever let anything happen to youâheâs proven time and time again just how capable he is.
âThatâs it, hmm?â He grunts with a particularly delicious thrust that slams his cockhead right into your g-spot. âRighâ there, sugar?â
Heâs always been able to find it with seemingly no effort. He folds you over like itâs nothing, hands sliding up from their tight grip over the bunched-up skirt on your hips so he can grab greedily at your breasts through the soft fabric of your shirt. His skilled fingers can find your nipples with ease even through the layersâit never fails to impress, much less to draw a loud moan from your lips.
âAtta girl.â He growlsâa sound so low and animalistic that it makes your walls clamp down around himâso close to your ear that you can feel the bristly scratch of his mustache and the warm, panting breaths that are punched from his lungs with each thrust against your neck.
Your thighs are trembling with every vicious stroke of his cock, desperate for the release heâs been steadily working your towards. Heâs always liked to play with his mealâto draw it out until youâre begging and crying for it.
You can feel the delicious friction of his denim-clad thighs against the back of yours, hear the clink of his belt buckle as his hips work. Itâs easy to forget that anyone could walk into this conference room right now, anyone could look up out a window and see you being pulled apart.
Your fingers clutch uselessly at the smooth glass in a feeble attempt to steady yourself, but thereâs no saving you. Not when youâre this close, not when you can feel his plush lips ghosting against your pulse point and his fingers are shoving under the neckline of your shirt to get a better feel of what heâs been pawing at.
âGod damn, this cunt,â he grunts lowlyâhis thrusts are losing their rhythm, you know heâs getting close. âSweeter ân stolen honey.â
One of his broad palms gives up the delightful attack on your chest to skate down the length of your stomach and find your clit. Heâs familiar enough with your body now, after months of sneaking around together like thisâhe knows exactly the right pace and pressure to use in order to have you crumbling in his arms.
And crumble you doâwith a moan that you try to muffle behind your bitten lip, you shatter. Your entire body shakes with the force of your orgasm, barely held up if not for your palms against the glass and Jackâs hands moving swiftly to your hips to steady you.
Heâs not far behindâa couple more deliciously firm thrusts have him pressed balls-deep into your messy cunt, filling you to the very brim with his cum until itâs leaking out around his softening length.
Thereâs a blissfully long moment where he stays crowding you against the window, hot breath flickering up the length of your neck from where heâs pressing open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.Â
âAâright, darlinâ?â Thereâs something so tender behind that whispered question in combination with the way his lips canât seem to leave your skin. Almost loving.
You choke down whatever feelings youâre perceivingâimagined or realâand give a little nod. âMhm.â
He pulls out with a quiet groan that makes it sound as if heâs in pain over being parted from you. One of those warm hands of his comes up and curves around your jaw, pulling your lips to his in a sweet kiss thatâs a far cry from the way he was fucking you just a moment ago. He pushes his tongue against your bottom lip as his other hand sneaks down between your legs, fingertips ghosting against your over-sensitive cunt before he pulls your ruined panties back into their proper place.
âClean these up for me?âÂ
Youâre accepting his cum-smeared fingers into your mouth before you can think of a response. His jaw drops open at the way you swirl your tongue around them, always so dedicated to doing exactly what he asks of you. Always striving to go above and beyond.
âShould give you a raise,â he murmurs, his voice a little high-pitched in a way that makes you smirk proudly.
You let his fingers go with an audible pop. âI wouldnât turn it down, Mr. Daniels.â
You try to ignore the steady leak of his spend dripping into your underwear as you tug your skirt back into place. Itâs only just past noonâyou have plenty of work to get done, starting with clearing the conference table of all the rubble left behind from the meeting that concluded shortly before Jack got his hands on you.
You see it as heâs tucking himself back into those sinfully tight jeansâtwo smudgy handprints on the otherwise impeccable glass. You feel vaguely guilty on behalf of the cleaning crew whoâll have to deal with that tonight.
Jack doesnât seem to have the same inclination. He shoots a wink your way as he picks his black Stetson up off the conference table and sets it on his head. âHave those meetinâ notes ready by the end aâday, âkay?â
âYes sir,â you answer dutifully. Itâs only one of the many reasons youâre his favorite employee.
â beta: @schnarfer ; dividers: @saradika-graphics
â Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics!
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#agent whiskey#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey smut#agent whiskey fanfiction#jack daniels x reader#jack daniels smut#jack daniels fanfiction#kingsman the golden circle#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#cece writes
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Pressing
Jack Daniels x F!Reader, dude ranch AU
A Palomino oneshot, but can be read on its own
{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }
Rating: E
Summary: Jack marks you as his in an unexpected way.
Warnings: PWP, Jack's belt leaves an impression on reader's skin, unintentional branding, unprotected sex, long-distance relationship, desperate and feral cowboy, no physical descriptions of Reader, very lightly edited, written as part of the Palomino universe, set after the end of the series, but can be read as a oneshot on its own
Word count: 1.4k
Notes: This little story came from an ask sent in by đŽ anon in December 2022, which I have long lost, about a song that mentions a guyâs belt buckle leaving marks on his girlfriend's inner thigh while fucking. Naturally, they thought of Jackâs belt. đŽ anon, if youâre still here, thank you for the inspo and for your patience â€ïž
Also thank you to @lola-lola-lola for getting me horn knee about our cowboy again đ Writing Palomino smut first thing in the year was not on my 2024 bingo card, and Iâm not mad about it!
Cutest dividers by @firefly-graphics.
Itâs been two and a half months. Week after wretched week of phone calls on stolen time. Day after day of aching to reach through the phone screen and the distance between you to touch him.
Itâs hard being hundreds and hundreds of miles apart. Itâs even harder on weeks when heâs in the mountains with no reception. Harder to find time to call when you have to work late and he has to get up at dawn.
But you endure it all - for days like this.Â
Itâs a rare weekend off in the high season, with Teak pulling back-to-back pack trips to cover for him, joking that he canât take all his sighing and pining for his Darlinâ anymore.
Jack takes the last flight out on Friday night, arriving first thing on Saturday morning, before the city - or you - wake up. Youâre half-buried under the duvet when the jingle of the key in the door jolts you from shallow slumber.
On unsteady feet, you wobble out into the hallway, crashing into the walls as you go, balance off-kilter from sleep.
But itâs ok - he catches you, all white t-shirt and tight blue jeans. Incognito, if you will, in casual sneakers, but the cowboy hat is on as always. You knock it off post-haste, burying your face in the side of his neck in a desperate need for contact, his warmth seeping into your skin and wrapping you up in the deepest of comforts.
His hair is longer than he usually keeps it, and your fingers twist into his tousled curls when you pull back, taking in the stubble on his sharp jawline, and his tired eyes. But before you can say anything, he leans in and slants his lips over yours.
The taste of airplane coffee is sharp and bitter on his tongue as he kisses you deep and messy. You startle when he suddenly slams the door shut behind him, not realising it was still open, and his beat-up weekend bag is tossed carelessly behind him somewhere in the doorway.Â
The legs of the kitchen table scrape jarringly against the floor as he crowds you onto it, big hands cupping your ass and pulling you against his straining erection through his jeans.
âFuck, itâs been too long, darlinâ.â His voice is gravelly from an apparently sleepless overnight flight, and hearing his voice finally on the shell of your ear has you whimpering needily.
âCanât wait any more,â he growls, desperation thick in his voice.
With a flick of his wrists, he shucks off your ratty sleep shirt, eyes hooded as he gazes down at your tits, like he canât believe heâs actually touching you. Cupping them, soft and heavy, with reverent, rope-worn palms, he sucks one nipple after the other between his lips, making you squirm against him and leak wet and sticky between your thighs.
Strong hands hold you in place easily as you buck, the scrape of his moustache almost painful on your over-sensitive skin, nerve endings on fire after being deprived for long weeks.Â
Too impatient to wait, you tug your pyjamas shorts down your hips and kick them off clumsily, panties tangled in your damp folds as you writhe under him.Â
You feel the breath catch in his broad chest at the peek of your pussy, a rapidly growing damp spot darkening your cotton underwear. Hooking his thumb under the fabric, he tugs it unceremoniously to the side, baring you to him.Â
âLook at all this,â he marvels, tracing the fleshy pad of his thumb through your folds, making you arch clean off the table. âSo wet for me and youâve barely woken up.â
âBeen thinking about you the while night,â you admit, hips twitching as you chase his touch. âCouldnât sleep.â
âDid you touch yourself, darlinâ?â
You shake your head vehemently. âNo. Wanted your fingers. Your cock.â
His nostrils flare at your answer, unabashedly possessive in the way he looms over you.Â
âGood girl,â he murmurs into your throat, nosing the side of your neck while thick fingers thrum against your clit. âI was so hard for you the whole fuckinâ flight.âÂ
As if to prove it to you - not that you need it - he rolls his hips into your inner thigh, the hard bulge undeniable.
You mewl, hooking your ankles around his waist. âFuck me now, Jack - please.â
Thereâs a wordless fumble for the solid sterling flask bottle of his belt buckle, his usual level-headed composure nowhere to be found as he pushes down his jeans with shaking hands, just enough to pull his cock out of its denim confines -Â
And then he thrusts home inside you.
After months of only your fingers, itâs a stretch. But what a delicious stretch it is.
You feel him throb deep inside you, feel the thunder of a pained groan in his chest, pressed up against yours. Your cunt is all slick and give to his determined strokes as he begins to move.Â
Thereâs no finesse, hardly any awareness, when he fucks frantically into you. His solid weight pins you to the table, and it rattles precariously under your back.
Your legs are splayed obscenely wide and bent at the knees while Jack pounds into your wet heat, eyes wild and mouth hanging open, watching your tits bounce as you take him, your nails digging into the cotton of his white t-shirt. He never did take off your panties, and the fabric rubs your clit just so with every one of his thrusts, rapidly sending you to the edge.
In the back of your mind, youâre aware of the coarse scrape of his jeans against your inner thighs, and something digs hard into the tender skin, the repeated motion dulling the sensation to an almost numb pressure.Â
When you cum, youâre crying out before your head catches up, your body convulsing with blind bliss as your pussy clenches around him in a hot rush. The blood pounding in your ears is drowned out by your chants of his name, and then his hips start to stutter and his whole body tenses, frantic eyes on yours as he teeters on the edge.Â
âWhere, darlinâ?â
âInside me.â
The words have barely left you and heâs coming, broken pants against your lips as he comes and comes and comes - spilling inside you, filling you to the brim until heâs empty, turned inside out.
Slumped, boneless on top of you, humid pants pressed into your shoulder, his fingers tangle with yours, squeezing as if to let you know that heâs here.
You almost doze off, the gradually slowing rise and fall of the cowboyâs broad chest a comforting anchor, when he rouses you with gentle lips along your jaw. You giggle, feeling him softening and sliding out of you, making a mess of your kitchen table.Â
âMorninâ darlinâ,â he says somewhat belatedly, warm eyes crinkling as he smiles at you.
âMorning,â you grin back, and when he shifts, you wince at the ache in your joints from being pinned to one spot for this very vigorous wake up call. His hands smooth over your legs in apology, and you jump when his fingertips brush over somewhere at the juncture of your upper thigh that is surprisingly sore.
âWhatâs that?â you ask, puzzled.
Jack doesnât answer, curiously quiet. You look down to where heâs bracketed between your legs, watching him trace his index finger over the unmistakable imprint of his distinct belt buckle on the inside of your thigh, where itâs been digging into your skin the whole time.Â
He glances at you. âIâm sorry. Did I hurt you?â
âNo, you didnât,â you give him a knowing grin. âAnd are you really sorry, cowboy?â
He doesnât even have the decency to look sheepish. Gently pinching your swollen folds together, he groans when a milky bead of his cum dribbles out of you, running down the inside of your leg and smearing onto the flask-shaped impression.
âAinât sorry about somethinâ that looks this good on you, darlinâ.â
âCouldâve asked me before you branded me, you know,â you half-joke, running your own finger along the deep lines carved into your skin, for now.
âBegginâ your pardon, I tend to forget my manners when Iâm balls deep in a pussy as sweet as yours,â he retorts, one eyebrow arching when he feels you shiver at his words.
You huff in jest, âDoesnât sound like much of an apology if you asked me.â
âWhatcha want, darlinâ? Me on my hands and knees for you?â
Heat flashes under your skin, from your cheeks down to your toes, and Jackâs eyes darken as his tongue wets his bottom lip. âAlright. I hear you loud and clear, maâam.â
Slowly, he sinks onto his knees in front of you, his joints creaking endearingly as he goes, and you canât help but tease, âEasy there, cowboy.â
The wicked tip of his tongue peeks out, and you bite your lip in a moan when it cleverly traces the outline of the belt buckle on your skin, ending in a playful nip that pulls a gasp from you.
With an unapologetically smug grin, Jack winks. âIâm only just gettinâ started, darlinâ.â
Note: Thank you for reading â€ïž Iâve missed these two, and if youâre new to Palomino, I hope youâll give the series a chance!
#palomino series#jack daniels fanfiction#jack daniels x reader#jack daniels x you#jack daniels x f!reader#jack daniels x fem!reader#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey x you#agent whiskey x f!reader#agent whiskey x fem!reader#x reader#jack daniels imagine#agent whiskey imagine#jack daniels smut#agent whiskey smut
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choose your fighter: Pedro Pascal or Beldro Ramscal
#pedro pascal#joel miller#the last of us#tlou#din djarin#marcus moreno#javi gutierrez#javier peña#oberyn martell#agent whiskey#maxwell lord#dieter bravo#din djarin x reader#joel miller x reader#marcus moreno x reader#javi gutierrez x reader#oberyn martel x reader#agent whiskey x reader#javier peña x reader#dieter bravo x reader#maxwell lord x reader#stardust:txt#PLEASE CAN I PICK BOTH#1k
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It's Sunday morning and you're Joel's breakfast
Oh I'm so sick for this man! đđ
#Joel Miller#pedrohub#this voice aaaaa#pedro pascal#joel miller x f!reader#dbf joel miller#pedropascaledit#pascalispunk#javier peña#dave york#agent whiskey#happy frankie friday#frankie morales#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#pedro pascal fandom#pedro x reader#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x reader
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Welcome tooooo
you little slut đ«”đŒ
All stories are written by me and most of them are intended for MDNI.
!If you are a minor, please leave my profile!
All stories are fiction and are not intended to offend anyone.
If you love Pedro Pascal and his characters, I invite you to enjoy
If you like any of my stories, please leave a comment/reblog, it means A LOT to me, thank you!
Also, all fics are available under this hashtag - #sanarsi fic
CONTENT MARKINGS
Fluff - đ§ / Angst - 𫧠/ Smut - 𩱠/ Dark - đ·ïž / My fav - đ€
*mini series include more than 3 and less than 5 parts
One Shots
Goddess đ§đŠąđ€
husband!Oberyn Martell x f!Reader
Just you and your husband who love each other very much.
Royal Vows đŠą
groom!Oberyn Martell x f!Reader
The wedding of members of the royal family carries with it obligations. One of them is the consummation of the marriage.
Eight woman đ«§đŠą
Oberyn Martell x f!Reader
Oberyn is tormented by memories of you after you decided to leave him.
One Shots
Birthday present đŠą
Javier Peña x f!Reader
You're the daughter of one of Columbia's godfathers. Agent Peña decides to surprise you on your twenty-fifth birthday.
To be loved by a woman đŠą
dbf!Javier Peña x f!Reader
Javier Peña has been in your life for as long as you can remember. The perfect friend for your father. A gentleman with a charming smile and good taste. How can he resist you if he knows you feel the same way about him?
Itâs just business đŠą
Javier Peña x informant!f!Reader
As one of the drug cartels' representatives, you were incredibly useful to Agent Peña. However, he can't stop his habit of fucking his informants.
Forbidden fruit 𩱠part 2 for "Itâs just businessâ
Javier Peña x informant!f!Reader
Your affair with Agent Peña was wrong and you both knew it. But how could he resist you when he was starting to fall for you?
One Shots
Betrayal
coworker!lover!Jack Daniels x spy!f!Reader
Coming soon
Mini Series
Sex, Drugs and RockânâRoll đ§đ«§đŠą
rockstar!Frankie Morales x f!Reader
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Young rock star Frankie Morales and his band "Triple Frontier" are slowly climbing towards fame. Your luck allowed you to meet him when they were still playing in bars. The passionate feelings that arose between you opened the door to a completely different world. Sex, drugs and a lot of Rock. The road to the world of fame is never strewn with roses and the problems you encounter put many things to the test. What can come out of the mixture of the three most addictive things in the world if not chaos.
One Shots
Gardens of Eden đŠąđ€
Din Djarin x goddess!f!Reader
Another bounty hunt goes wrong when he comes across a creature whose influence changes his view of everything.
One Shots
Lovely Mornings
Marcus Moreno x nanny!f!Reader
Coming soon
One Shots
Flying days and nights đ«§đ€
ex-boyfriend!Dieter Bravo x f!Reader
You and Dieter broke up because of his addiction. Despite that, he's going to do anything to have you in his arms again.
One Shots
Pink Braids đ§
no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Joel decided to take his daughter on vacation for a few days. The sea and the beach were the perfect destination for a short break. Joel could never resist Sarah's charms. The stand selling colorful braids was no exception.
Youâre doing great, sweetie đŠą
no-outbreak!professor!Joel Miller x student!f!Reader
You came to your professor to ask for help with your essay. He accidentally discovers one of your dirty secrets which is him.
Controversially young girlfriend đ«§đŠąđ€
post-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Joel finally finds his brother. He's not too happy to hear how he got on with his life without him. But his brother is also not happy to meet his new partner - you. Or Joel fucks you to comfort you.
One of your girls đŠą
post-outbreak!Joel Miller x virgin!f!Reader
Joel was known for treating women well in bed. That's why, on your eighteenth birthday, you decided to give him your virginity.
We Have It All đ«§
pre/post-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader
You and Joel were separated by the outbreak.
Without Me đ«§
post-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Joel was not a good man and the consequences of his actions eventually caught up to him.
Manâs Love đ§đŠą
no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Joel is your neighbor who doesn't hide his feelings for you and won't give up on winning your heart despite your rejections.
Private lessons đŠą
no-outbreak!instructor!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Joel gives you private horse riding lessons.
Everything we did that summer đŠą
step-uncle!no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader
You resisted getting close to Joel, afraid of what might happen then. Well, his affection for you destroyed everything you had worked for.
Summer 2014 đŠą
bfd!no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader
What happens if you find out you're attracted to your best friend's father? Well, Joel is more than willing to show you that.
But daddy, I love him! đ«§đŠą
older boyfriend!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Your controversial old boyfriend is back from his deployment. Your father is against your relationship. Or Joel fucks you on his motorcycle.
Sweet treat đŠąđ·ïž
perv!neighbor!Joel Miller x f!Reader
You came to your family home for a vacation. The obsession that is born in Joel pushes him to do very bad things.
Euphoria đ«§đŠą
professor!Joel Miller x student!f!Reader
One wrong call led to this, that instead of your boyfriend, it's your professor who picks you up from the party.
Your faith đ«§đŠąđ·ïž
post-outbreak!dark!Joel Miller x f!Reader
You are locked up, at the will of your tormentor who only wants you to love him.
Favourite Lamb đŠą
post-Jackson!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Joel finally has what he wanted â a quiet life, a farm, and you. After a hard day at work, you're eager to take care of your man.
One Shots
Victoryâs your only payment đ«§đŠąđ·ïž
lover!Marcus Acacius x f!Reader
Your general has betrayed you. Your anger is greater than the love you have for him, so you send him to the arena to fight for his last breath.
One Shots
Paid internship đŠą
professor!Reed Richards x student!f!Reader
You don't have enough money to pay for your internship. Prof. Richards finds another way for you to pay him back.
Physics in Practice đ«§đŠą
stepfather!professor!Reed Richards x student!f!Reader
You accidentally discover that your stepfather has a shameful soft spot for you. Reed has to deal with everything you decide to serve him after that.
Cheri Cheri Lady đŠą
stepfather!Reed Richards x f!Reader
Your stepdad fucks you on a sun lounger.
Girl Meal Series đŠą
Pedro Pascal characters x f!Reader
AU where all four boys are your friends and provide you with one, very intense day. From breakfast to dessert.
Kinktober 2024 đ§đ«§đŠąđ·ïž
Pedro Pascal characters x f!Reader
31 kinks with 10 Pedro Pascal boys for each of the 31 days of October
Okay so thatâs it bestieee
Hope you enjoyed xx
#masterlist#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal smut#oberyn martell x reader#javier peña x reader#jack daniels x reader#agent whiskey x reader#frankie morales x reader#din djarin x reader#the mandalorian x reader#marcus moreno x reader#dieter bravo x reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#marcus acacius x reader#reed richards x reader
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New Year's Surprise
Jack Daniels x plus size female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 18.7k Warnings: Cursing, alcohol, internalized fatphobia, self esteem issues, pining, meddlesome friends, unwanted attention from a male coworker, light spanking, praise, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, Jack likes being scratched up, reader is described as having fingernails long enough to scratch (no specific length given), the love is requited they're just idiots. Summary: Ginger has a plan to get you and Jack to admit you have feelings for each other. She did not anticipate just how well it would work... Notes: Happy almost New Year everyone! Enjoy a little more winter seasonal smut and fluff from us to you đ„đŸâš
"You're sure it's not too much, Ging?" Turning in front of the full-length mirror in Ginger's apartment, you inspect the glittering black cocktail dress that your friend helped you pick out at the mall during all those after-Christmas sales she promised you that you would find something at. She was right, like she always is, but now that the dress is on you, you're wondering if you haven't made a mistake. If it's not too revealing, or too short, or too tight.
Whoever in HR came up with this insane Cowboys and Flappers theme for the company New Year's Eve party deserved to have their head examined. You're not the femme fatale agent that gets sent out to seduce men and collect their secrets. Few men out there in the world are ever really seduced by the chubby girl in any given scenario, but it did tend to make you invisible. Invisible women can slip in and out of buildings in literally any kind of uniform and get through security without ever being harassed, and that works to your advantage on almost every case. Unfortunately, it also means that for the five years you've been a Statesman agent, you've also been fairly invisible to the man you've developed feelings for.
Itâs perfect.â No matter how many times Ginger Ale tells you that you are sexy just the way you are, that insecurity gets the best of you. âIâm telling you, you will have every eye in the place.â
âI doubt it.â You sigh in the mirror and smooth your hands over the sequined dress one more time. âBut thatâs okay. I donât want every set of eyesâŠâ
âI know what set of eyes you want on you.â Your taste in men is your own, and Ginger wonât fault you for it, but she wonders why Jack. âIt might do the man good to know that heâs got competition.â You donât believe her when she says that itâs more telling that Jack doesnât hit on you, but itâs the truth.
âHe doesnât, though.â Shrugging, you turn away from the mirror and decide to just go on with the night. Wishing wonât make it real and Jack Daniels barely looks at you. Even though youâve partnered on cases, spend time together in and out of the office, and are arguably friends in every true sense? Youâve always wanted more with him. The only person who knows is Ginger, though, and you prefer to keep it that way since Jack will never return your affection. âAnd thatâsâŠit is what it is. Even if youâre the only person I dance with tonight, itâll still be fun.â
âWearing that dress?â Ginger snorts as she pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. âIâll have the faith for both of us, how about that?â She knows that Jack wonât be able to resist you tonight, not when sheâs lined up a few of the junior agents to dance with you already. Itâs time that Jack settles down and finds some happiness, and what better time than the New Year?
******
While you easily could have had the party at Statesman considering the size of the grounds, Champ wouldnât hear of it. Heâs hosting the damn thing himself come hell or high water, in his favourite suit with his wife dressed to the 9âs in her flapper dress, and more caterers than youâve ever seen in your life all making his early twentieth century coal baronâs mansion look as resplendent as the day it was built. The place is palatial, with a ballroom so big that the band heâs hired looks tiny in one corner despite being six-men strong. Itâs music and liquor and appetizers passing by on trays when you and Ginger walk through the door, and you gasp at how nice it all looks.
âI know he does it every year,â you sigh to your best friend. âBut the theme is always different and I swear somehow the house always looks better on new yearâs.â
âChamp does know how to throw one hell of a party.â She agrees, snagging two glasses of champagne from a waiter as she walks by. Her own sleek flapper dress is a vivid purple, making her beautiful skin glow and for tonight, sheâs wearing contacts. Her short hair is perfectly styled, a cap like illusion, highlighted with the crystal headband sheâs picked. âTo a New Year we will never forget.â She hands you one glass and adds, âor regret.â
âYouâre certainly optimistic.â You flash her and grin and tap the rim of your glass against hers. âFinally going to talk to Alicia or is this just positive vibes?â Itâs been two years since Ginger started crushing on the woman who supervises Statesman campus tours and visitor experience, but she hasnât made a move yet. Being frozen in place with someone you care about is something the two of you have in common.
âPositive vibes.â She huffs, rolling her eyes and trying to change the subject. âLook! Thereâs Tequila!â She waves the younger agent over to where you are standing. âYou made it! Didnât think you were ever gonna get back from Brazil, or if you wanted to.â She adds with a grin.
âThose are two very different questions.â Tequila agrees with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. Did he have to come back? Sure. But did he want to leave the comfort and luxury of that beautiful womanâs bed? Not at all. âBut I would not have missed dancing with you ladies for the world,â he adds with a wink. Heâs very much in on Gingerâs plan, after all, and is looking forward to the fireworks it will bring.
You fluster slightly at his words, but Ginger knows that you donât have your cap set on Tequila. You just donât handle compliments well. âYouâll have to get in line.â Ginger warns him with a smirk. âAs good as Rye looks tonight, every man in here is going to want a dance. After I dance with her first.â
âWell I reckon Iâll have to be second, then.â Tequila puts in a playful pout. âBut only because I would never deny Miss Ginger Ale gettin to be first.â He smiles again and tips his hat, having opted to wear his best Stetson with an elegant Kingsman suit. âYou donât have to,â you insist, knowing Tequila always has more choices of dance and bedroom partners than he could ever feasibly make his way through. âIâm sure you have other people you want to dance with tonight.â
âNo one important.â Tequila smirks as he drags his eyes up and down your outfit and whistles slowly. âAnd no one nearly as pretty.â He promises.
âLiar.â Though you roll your eyes at him, you donât protest anymore than that. Heâs your friend, after all. And if he wants to waste his time dancing with you, youâll just enjoy it. Tequilaâs a fantastic dancer, after all.
âNever lie to you, honey.â Tequila croons, taking your hand and lifting it to his lips. âLie about what?â The voice comes from your left and all eyes swing that way.
âJack!â Normally you know heâs coming. The smell of earthy, expensive cologne and the tap-click-shuffle of his boots on polished floors. The soft humming he gets up to when heâs pleased with himself, not quite melodic but endearing because it means heâs happy. But you sensed none of that just now, too caught up in the band playing and the fragrant flowers and the tickle of bubbly in your nose and throat. âNothing. We were just talking about dancingâŠâ He looks like a dream, and it makes you sick to your stomach and elated all at once. Another night of watching him fawn over every woman but you is what youâve resigned yourself to putting up with, but itâs just rude of him to look so damn handsome in that black velvet double breasted suit and sleek black Stetson while he does it.
âDancing, hum?â His eyes narrow slightly at the grip Tequila has on your hand and he wants to reach out and slap it away, but he just shoots everyone an easy grin. âReady to cut a rug tonight, eh?â
"I guess so." The shyness that threatens to shoot straight through you is knocked off kilter by Ginger, who hoots in response. "She's got her dance card all filled up already, Whiskey. Should've gotten here earlier," she tells him with a smirk.
His mustache ticks, itâs the only change to his facial expression. âIâm sure Rye can squeeze me in.â His dark amber eyes slide over to you and swipe up and down your body. âCanât you, sugar?â
"Of course." You'd throw over the whole goddamn list for him. Besides, you have no idea what Ginger could possibly mean by saying your 'card' is full. One dance with her and one with Tequila isn't a full anything. "Of course I can."
âGood. Then how about I refresh you ladiesâ drinks?â Jack asks, slapping Tequila on the back a little rougher than necessary. âCome help me with that.â
"Sure." Tequila grunts, throwing you a confused expression like he can't figure out why the hell Jack needs help getting champagne when waiters with trays are everywhere, but he shoots Ginger a secret smirk before following Jack into the next room where the open bar is set up.
âTonight will be perfect.â Ginger predicts with a smug grin as she watches the two men walk towards the open bar. .
âWhat the hell are you doinâ, flirtinâ with Rye?â Jackâs easy grin falls away and his brows knit together as soon as his back is turned to you. âYou know that girl ainât your type.â
"I can't be nice to my friend?" Tequila asks, pretending to be positively aghast that Jack would suggest he's up to anything else. One hand ever goes to his chest with a dramatic gasp.
Jackâs eyes cut towards the other agent, a frown on his face. âItâs one goddamn thing to be nice, itâs another to flirt.â
"When did I flirt?" The younger agent counters, knowing full well that's what he was doing but not about to admit it because he wants to make Jack stew.
âYou were flirtinâ the second you can outta your momma, but you gotta learn thereâs certain girls you donât do that shit with.â Jack growls, stopping in front of the bar and holding up two fingers. âDouble 62 Triple Barreled.â He orders, wanting one of the rare whiskeys that Champ had broken out tonight. âAnd two champagnes.â
"Now, why is that, Jack?" Tequila hums, looking down at his friend. Jack isn't too much shorter than him, but just enough to annoy the older agent on occasion. "Why is Rye one of those girls?"
âBecauseâŠâ thatâs where his argument ends, because thereâs not really a reason beyond his own feelings. âItâsâŠunprofessional.â He decides. âSheâs an agent for Christâs sake.â
Tequila snorts at this string of logic, accepting his drink from the pretty bartender with a wink and sliding a large bill into the tip glass on the bar top before looking back at Jack. "That's a load of horse shit and you know it, Daniels. You fucking know it."
He does know it, but he snatches his own drink up and rolls his eyes. âWhatever.â He hates that his stomach twists and he wonders if you had been flirting back. Looking over his shoulder at where you are standing, he clenches his jaw at the tassels that are swaying every time you move. âDonât get her damn hopes up.â He takes a sip of his whiskey. âWe both know you ainât gonna fuck her.â
"Nor does she want me to." This is gonna be a hell of a lot easier than he and Ginger thought, if Jack is always so fuckin wound up over you and he only just arrived for the night. "I ain't the one she has her eye on and everybody with eyes knows it."
Jack ignores that, huffing to himself as he tries to hid the fucking jealousy that curls in his gut at whoever you do have your eye on. Lucky son of a bitch. âNo fuckinâ talkinâ to you, hardheaded S.O.B.â The champagne glasses are in front of him and he downs the rest of the drink to slap the crystal glass down and snatch up the flutes. Turning around without another word and stalking across the room towards you and Ginger.
It's only one room he has to cross, but by the time he gets there, Agent Brandy has sidled up beside you and Ginger and has his fingers ever so subtly on your elbow while bends his head and puts all his focus directly on you.
Halfway across the room, Jack jerks to a halt and growls, shaking his head as he resumes the walk and forces a moderately friendly smile on his face. âDidnât think youâd be back from Korea, Don.â He interrupts as he arrives back at your group.
"Two days ago." Brandy flashes a smile in Jack's general direction but keeps his focus on you. "Glad I made it back in time, too. Champ throws a hell of a party."
His eye twitches but Jack nods. âYeah he does. Shoulda brought that little gal you were seeinâ. Brandy. Brenda right? Or was it Bambi?â He shrugs. âMaybe all of them at once, knowinâ you.â
"Now don't be unkind, Jack." Brandy's eyes cut over to the older agent and Brandy offers what could be considered a modestly dramatic pout. "Or Rye might think the worst of me and throw me over for that dance I just got promised."
Jack seethes beneath the smile on his face. âWould hate for that to happen.â He lies, handing Ginger one of the glasses and then offers the other to you.
The glass is offered with a smile and you thank Jack, savoring even the tiniest moment of contact between brushing fingers as he hands it over. It's probably bordering on pathetic, how long you've carried this torch for Jack, and it seems like Ginger is really trying to encourage you tonight to come out of your shell tonight but you just don't know. As nice as everyone is being, it doesn't feel right. The only thing that feels right is when you're around Jack. It's just a damn shame that he doesn't feel the same.
Itâs almost painful how the simple, innocent touch affects him. Now visceral his reaction is. Only the training that Statesman has given him keeps him from showing anything. âWell,â he hates to tear himself away, but he canât be around you for too long. âI better go talk to Champ about some cases he wants worked tomorrow.â He offers.
"It's a party," you remind him, smile flickering as he steps back. Obviously the small touch that you'll be savoring for the rest of the night has had the opposite effect on him. But there's no need to show that. Not when it's fully expected that he doesn't want to be around you when there are plenty of other people to talk to and women to dance with. "Don't work too hard, okay?"
âNever do,â he nods at everyone and turns around and skedaddles over to Champ like his pants are on fire.
"Come on," Ginger loops her arm through yours and lends Brandy a smirk that you don't notice â you're too busy trying not to look after Jack. "Let's go dance, honey. The night is young and we are looking far too good not to show off."
Champ eyes Jack as he stops by his side. âFigured youâd have a gal in your arms by now.â He huffs as he reaches out to shake Jackâs hand. âLosing your touch?â Jack snorts. âWhen have I ever lost my touch?â He asks, pointedly refusing to look back over towards you. âJust surveying my prospects.â
"And how is Agent Rye this evening?" Champ doesn't even have to look to know that that's where Jack has just come from. He blew into the room so quickly that it's the only explanation for the fire in his heels.
âDonât you start with me.â Jack groans, shaking Champâs hand and huffing. âFar as I know, sheâs dandy.â
"Why should I not start?" Champ knows damn well why not, but he enjoys riling up his friend. "Somebody beat me to the punch?"
âEvery-goddamn-body here tonight is actinâ like theyâve never seen the woman in a dress.â He snorts, complaining about it even though he has already memorized the way the damned sequined dress clings to your curves and enhances them in ways that should be criminal. âItâs damned ridiculous and borderline workplace harassment.â
Smirking, Champ pours two glasses of his preferred Statesman 1972 Select, savoring the smoked cherry notes from that particular year. He hands one cut crystal glass over to Jack with his tongue set firmly in his cheek. "You know you'd be a hell of a lot less mad if you just asked the lady to dance your damn self."
The glare Jack cuts Champ is withering and he turns his head as he takes a sip, refusing to rebuff the remark. It seems like everyone is taking the piss with him tonight as Eggsy would say. (edited)
"She's allowed to have fun, ya know." Champ goes on, humming the thought as though the glare Jack just shot him wouldn't have struck a lesser man dead in his tracks. "Damn shame she hasn't set her cap on anyone. Big family dreams, that gal has. Always has. It'll be a damn shame when she finally decides to hang up her pistols and have a family, but I won't let her get farther than the training ring. Too good of an agent to just let her retire."
âIs there a point to your ramblings?â Jack grumbles. âOr are you just spouting shit tonight?â
"Do what I want in my own house." The older man chuckles heartily and claps Jack on one shoulder. "Got a couple of jobs to start the new year with. Come see me tomorrow and we'll figure out which one's yours."
Heâs being dismissed and since Champ is also giving him hell, Jack quickly nods and walks off. Trying to walk around the ostentatious ballroom without looking at you. âHello handsome.â A perfectly manicured hand drapes itself over his shoulder and the scent of gardenias and sandalwood fills his nostrils. âTiffany.â
Like a bloodhound on a trail, you spot it from across the ballroom without even trying to. Twirling around with Ginger, your eyes catch sight of the gorgeous, skinny, leggy blonde who has let herself drape over Jack's side and you sigh. Deflate is probably the right word, but you remind yourself it was never going to happen anyway and just hold on to Ginger as the song comes to an end.
âWhatâs a tall, dark, handsome drink of water like you doinâ all by your lonesome?â She purrs, making him hide the wince he had at the put on accent of hers. Sheâs as southern as tofu and yet she tries to make it sound like sheâs grown up around here. Still, sheâs a distraction and the best part about it is that thereâs no emotional strings. âLooks like I should be buyinâ you a drink, darlinâ.â
"I wish you would," she puts on a too-high giggle and bats eyelashes heavy with mascara and augmented with false hairs. Laying it on thick, she pushes in even closer and lets her body fit against his with nothing left to the imagination.
Jack doesnât feel anything but he paints a cocky smirk on his face as he turns to her. âThen let me go get something for you, what do you want, darlinâ?â
âChampagne, of course,â she simpers, never once considering the fact that sheâs at a party for a whiskey distillery. Hell, she hadnât even dressed for the theme.
Tiffany hangs out at the bar Statesman regularly hangs out at. A groupie because she knows everyone there makes good money. Heâd bet his bottom dollar she conned Scotch into bringing her.
âSome party.â Is her attempt at conversation, putting more effort into showing off her cleavage than completing sentences. âYou distillery boys sure know how to treat your gals.â
âOf course we do.â Jackâs smile is wicked, but itâs a part of the persona he adopts when he is working a target, itâs not real. âAny gal of mine deserves to be treated right.â
âIs that an invitation?â She knows who Jack is. Knows the civilian job title heâs been at Statesman Distillery. Even if she knew what it was all a front for, she likely wouldnât care. She might just try harder if she knew the real wealth being flung around between a lot of these people.
âNow sweetheart, Iâm good for a night or two.â Jack drawls. âBut Iâve got a lot of leavinâ left to do.â He hums, quoting the country song.
The pout on Tiffanyâs face is both dramatic and pronounced, but seeing that heâs immovable in that point â and knowing his reputation â she makes a small sound of frustrated disgust before flouncing away. Apparently annoyed at having wasted her time on a line cowboy.
The huff that Jack lets out is one of pure relief. Happy that he wonât have to deal with her again for at least half the night. She might make her way back around depending on successful she is. Itâs shameful to say, but most of the agents here have dallied with her, including Jack. However, he had only taken her home to satisfy a physical need. He slowly makes his way back to the bar to order another drink, not champagne.
His line of sight is unfortunate as he saunters back toward the open bar. Looking back out to the dance floor, he can see Tequila twirling you around and the two of you laughing as the younger man holds you close and mock-sings along with the band.
Jackâs frown is deep, furrowing his brow as he cuts his eyes away in a jealous huff.
It goes round and round like that for most of the night. One dance partner after the next sweeps you across the dance floor but never the partner you want. One beautiful woman after another sidles up to Jack and bats their eyelashes but none are the woman he actually wants at his side. Itâs a three-ring-circus. A whirlwind. But you never seem to get close enough to each other to see that neither of you is actually having any fun.
Itâs easy to have an arm around a woman, easy to smile and flirt. His eyes continuously find you on the dance floor. Ginger had been right apparently, you had a damn dance card that was slap full. He hisses under his breath, wondering how many of those men knew you bit your thumb when you were working out a problem or that your eyes changed to a lighter shade when you were feeling slightly bashful.
There isnât a single night of your life where youâve gotten this much attention from this many different men â or this many different people period â and while itâs fun in a whirlwind sort of way, you do find yourself clock-watching. Wondering why your fellow agents all seem to be paying you so many compliments tonight and why you sort of feel like Cinderella at the ball without a hint of the real Prince Charming, the closer it gets to midnight the more youâre thinking of just going home. The last thing you want is to glance across the ballroom at midnight and see Jack tangled up in a midnight kiss with some petite redhead or statuesque model with perfect curls. Youâll be happier skipping out early and being in your pjs with a book at midnight than you will be witnessing that.
Itâs fucking infuriating to have so many people come between him and you. Every dang time he untangles himself to break in on your dance with some partner, Ginger, Tequila or Champ waylay him. Heâs never had such a hard time getting to chat with you and itâs making him slowly unravel his temper. âAh Jack, there you are.â He sighs and paints on a smile when Champ claps his back and shoves a drink in his hand. âForgot to mention somethinââŠ.â His eyes slide away from you laughing as you are spun around, bitter to be stonewalled again.
âWell if it ainât the golâdern Belle of the Ball.â The voice you hear behind you is the one person you were hoping to avoid tonight, and as youâve just finished dancing with one of the guys from the technology department who you didnât even think knew your name, thereâs no escaping. Agent Vodka is one of those older men who doesnât realize that James Bond is just a character and that no one drags that persona into their everyday life. He routinely âflirtsâ with you like heâs bestowing you a huge goddamn favor for even looking in your direction, and you were genuinely hoping to avoid him tonight.
Vodka is handsome in a classical sense, some would say a silver fox, if he had a better attitude. As it stands, thereâs a confused tilt to his Stetson adorned head and he rakes his eyes up and down your body in a very calculated gaze. âYou musta cleaned up for hours. Getting ready for a good night.â
âSure. I guess so.â You nod, tone polite but dismissive. Vodka has a tendency to interpret friendly as begging for hands to be put on you, and the last thing you want to do is encourage him. âHappy new year, Vodka.â
âSeems like Whiskey and I have been the only ones not with you tonight.â He intones, smirking slightly. âGuess you was savinâ the best for last, huh? Since Jackâs hanginâ all over the ladies, Iâll step in and claim this dance.â He doesnât ask for permission, just stepping up to you and grabbing your waist.
âThatâs really okay.â Reeling backward, Vodka is strong but your self-defense training is a hell of a lot better, and you twist in his grip to make sure he canât get a solid hold on you no matter how hard he tries. âAppreciate the offer,â you huff, trying to push him away. âBut I was just heading home.â
âOh donât be that way.â Vodka huffs and manages to pull you close. âBelieve me, dancinâ âs just a prelude to what we can do later.â
âWhich is exactly why I donât want to dance with you.â You push back against him again, leveraging your elbow against his side to loosen his grip with a sharp shot to his liver. This has gone too far and is hovering on ruining the night â which has been fairly fun despite its lack of your favorite cowboy and coworker.
âJack-â Ginger doesnât bother apologizing as she taps his shoulder and points out to the dance floor. âWhy donât you go save Rye?â She huffs.
At this point itâs obvious that itâs a struggle. People are giving you extra space on the dance floor as they realize whatâs happening but for whatever godforsaken reason, no one has stepped in yet. Probably because theyâre too shocked that Vodka has finally crossed the line into being physically inappropriate instead of just saying uncomfortable things.
âSugar, Iâm sorry Iâm late for our dance.â Jack slaps his hand down on Vodkaâs shoulder and digs his fingers into the fleshy muscle. Getting satisfaction from the immediate change in the manâs stance. âDonât mind if I interrupt, do ya?â His tone is friendly, but thereâs a warning woven in the words. Dark eyes turn towards you as you quickly step back from the other manâs grasp.
âWouldnât have thought youâd keep a dame waitinâ.â Vodka mumbles, all sheepishness and apology now that he realizes heâs infringed on another manâs territory.
Jack doesnât rip into the man like he wants to, everyone else is starting to relax and resume the party. âYou probably need to lay off the liquor.â He tells the other agent, not really caring for the man either.
âYou forget who we work for, Daniels?â Vodka huffs, giving Jack the stink eye. âNot like you go easy, either.â
âLast time I checked, I took no for an answer, Robbins.â Jack turns his back after letting Vodka go and sweeps you into his arms, effectively dismissing him.
The room damn near erupts into applause, chattering all around you erupting out of uncomfortable silence, but you donât hear it. You donât even see Tonic and Champ escorting Vodka out of the ballroom with the utmost immediacy so the dressing-down can be vocal and private. All you see is Jack, and all you hear is Jack. Even as quiet as he is, the huff he gives as he scoops you up and twirls you away speaks volumes. âJack, youâyou didnât have toââ Of course, if he hadnât, youâre not sure you couldâve gotten away so cleanly. âThank you.â
âDonât think a thing of it, sugar.â Although he has a few harsh words rolling around for everyone who didnât step in. Itâs like they were waiting for something. Alcoholâs done made their brains addled. âAlthough my own apologies for manhandling you to get you outta that sticky situation.â Even though heâs apologizing, he starts to lead you in a dance.
âI really donât mind.â And that is the understatement of the goddamn year, as you instinctively melt against Jack the second he starts to move.
âStillâŠ..â Thereâs finally a bit of happiness to the evening and he smirks down at you. âNow you can say your dance card has been filled.â
âCouldâve left Vodka off it completely,â you grumble lightly, but you still end up smiling. When Jack looks at you in almost any way you just light up from the inside. Itâs instinctual.
âDonât know what got into him.â Jack huffs, even though heâs saved you from encounters like that before.
âHis namesake, most likely.â He had smelled like it, at least. A fact which added no charm whatsoever to your encounter. âReally, Jack. Thank you. I appreciate it.â
Jack nods. âSugar, you know that I know you are a capable agent. You coulda mopped the floor with him, but Iâll always give you whatever help you need.â
âI prefer not to bring hand-to-hand combat to Champâs front door if I can help it.â If you let yourself really chew on the fancy, you could imagine Jack as rescuing you like a knight in armor. Like you were his to protect. âNot sure how much heâd appreciate that, regardless of how capable I am.â
âI think youâd find Champ more forgivinâ than you think.â He snorts, reminding himself of his own major fuck up just a few years prior. Champ had forgiven him and allowed him to regain the trust and confidence that he had destroyed through his own bling grief and rage.
âMaybe.â Jack certainly knows your boss better than you do even after several years with the agency, so youâll differ from him. âBut Iâm glad to not have to find out. AndâŠâ The rest of the thought gets swallowed, and you cut your eyes away from him in embarrassment. There are some things better left unsaid and normally youâre so good at keeping your mouth shut.
âAnd?â Jack frowns slightly, not liking that you are holding back with him. âYou can tell me anything, you know that.â
âItâs nothing,â you promise him, shaking your head and acting like it isnât the biggest, most honest confession in the world from you that sets your cheeks on fire and makes you even more bashful around him. âIâm justâŠglad I got to dance with you. Thatâs all.â
âYou didnât think you were going to dance out the old year without ole Jack now, did ya?â He sounds pouty that you would even think that.
"Honestly?" Shrugging slightly even with one of his hands splayed across your back and the other holding yours tenderly against his chest, you wonder how ever you ever manage to keep a damn thing to yourself with him around when your mind just sort of seems to melt in his presence. "I was going to split and ring in the new year in my bed with the book I've been reading."
Jack frowns and shakes his head, not agreeing with your plans in the slightest. âNow that seems like a waste.â He draws. âMighty fine night to spend readinâ a book. You should be doinâ other things.â
"Not a lot of other options to pick from," you mumble, trying to force your mind away from immediately conjuring the mental images and repeated daydreams of doing just about everything under the sun with â and to â him.
Jack wants to protest that, but the song starts to close out and you almost stop in your tracks. Obviously believing that he will end the dance now that Vodka is gone and the set is done. Instead of dropping your hands, he pulls you tighter against him. âIs that why you wore a dress like that, sugar? âCause you didnât have any options?â
"Ginger picked it out." Wrongly assuming it to be an indictment of the choice, you frown reflexively and wonder why he's still holding on to you. The trouble is over and the song is done. Shouldn't he be finding someone better to spend his time with? "I know it's...it's not right. Flapper dresses are designed for women who look the opposite of me. But she insisted on sticking to the theme."
âOpposite of you?â He makes a face of utter confusion. âWhat are you talkinâ âbout? Dress looks good, fits you.â Maybe you have a shit ton of pins in the dress? His sweet wife would always have to pin her dresses to get them to fit right. Nearly every night they went out, he was helping her pin it just so.
Skinny is what you meant, but instead of saying so you just chew your lip and shake your head. Voicing that out loud would really just cement the ruination of the night and you don't want to do that. "Never mind," you insist instead. "I'm glad you like it." Even if he's just saying it to be nice, which you're sure he is, it's still nice to hear.
Thereâs something bugging him about the way you continuously quit talking and get around what you mean. The next song starts to play and Jack moves to that slightly faster tempo. âNo oneâs breakinâ in yet, sugar. So Iâm keepinâ you unless you need a break?â
"No." Not from him. You would never, ever ask for a break from him. "No, I'm good." In fact, you've been so distracted by the rescue that you haven't noticed midnight creeping ever-closer. "I don't want a break."
Jack smiles, not the cocky smirk he adopts or the charming playboy facade that he uses on women like Tiffany. This is a genuine smile, one that makes his dimple show with a flash of white teeth and the crowâs feet around his eyes appear. âThen letâs dance, sugar.â
Champ chuckles when he sidles up beside Ginger with a fresh glass of champagne for each of them and his wife on his other arm, all ready to lead the midnight countdown after this song is over. "Took all damn night," he laughs to his co-conspirator. "And ya had to pull out the big gun with Vodka. But look at 'em."
âMan huffed and puffed at being used.â Ginger rolls her eyes and curls her lip. âBut I promised him the Antarctic assignment. It will seem like punishment to everyone else and apparently heâs romancing one of the scientists down there.â Personally, she doesnât see why anyone would be romanced by Vodka, but to each their own.
"It's for a damn good cause." Champ stifles a guffaw and even his wife looks amused at the way everything went down. "Everybody deserves to be happy, don't they? Even Vodka." It earns another snort from the older man and he aims a smirk at Ginger. "So what's the plan from here, Ging?"
âIf Jack will get off his ass, there should be a kiss at midnight.â Ginger grins. âAnd maybe, just maybe, the dumbass will realize that itâs okay to want her. She wants him too.â
"Of course she does." Everybody knows that. Everybody with eyes and sense in their head, anyway. "He's just been stuck in the whole of his own grief for far too damn long. It's about time he broke free. Which is exactly why I went along with this plan of yours."
âIâm glad you did. Jackâs felt so guilty about actually developing feelings for Rye that heâs convinced himself that itâs wrong to flirt with her.â She takes a sip of her champagne. âWhen he breaks, itâll be entertaining.â
"Entertaining for all of us." Grinning, Champ holds his glass out to his partner in crime in salute. "I sure as hell hope it happens right here for all of us to see."
Unaware that heâs being plotted against, Jack continues to hold you in his arms, taking you around the dance floor and trying to keep from asking too many questions that would potentially ruin his easy relationship with you. âHave you had fun? Other than Vodka? Your feet have to be killinâ you, all the dances youâve been movinâ to.â
âItâs alright, Iâll have a hot bath and soak them. Aside from the one little interruption, everythingâs been so nice.â This is the best part, without a doubt. Attention from other people is a novelty, the compliments and laughter a kind change of pace. But any time spent with Jack will always out do any other experience.
âA nice hot soak and a drink is always good to unwind.â Jack hums. âIf other activities arenât available.â The comment is warm, almost suggestive as he twists you around and then pulls you close again, feeling your softness against him and enjoying it.
Itâs the worst kind of gut punch, hearing a comment like that from Jack, and your eyes are downcast when you curl back into his arms. Itâs too unkind to be deliberate, but at the same time itâs such a careless comment that you just want to scream. He would never be intentionally cruel to you but the flirtatious tone of the comment is too much. âMaybe I shouldâve gone with Vodka, then.â
Jack stiffens, frowning immediately and his blood pressure rises in anger. âWhat the fuck?â He hisses, the moment making him grip you tighter, almost the point of hurting you. âWhy- you?â Heâs at a loss for words right now.
âWell itâs the only offer Iâve gotten inâŠa year? Maybe more?â You shrug dismissively but his grip on you doesnât allow for it, making your tone turn even more bitter in the process. He doesnât get to get mad about who offers when he has no interest in himself. âDefinitely more than a year, now that I think about it.â
âThat wasnât a goddamn offer.â He snorts. âIt was a cowboy playinâ grab ass when his partner wasnât willing.â He reminds you, dark eyes flashing angrily. âOtherwise known as assault.â
âAnd yet itâs still the only time any man has looked at me twice in more than a calendar year,â you hit back, practically hissing under your breath as embarrassed tears sting at your eyes. âNobodyâs exactly lining up to spend time with the fat girl except tonight which is Gingerâs doing. I know it is.â (edited)
The two of you are hissing back and forth, so preoccupied with your emotions that neither one of you are aware of the fact that the countdown for midnight has begun. The crowd around you starts to chant down from ten but Jack's too busy growling at you in anger. "Why are you so fuckin' quick to insult every goddamn person who decided to dance with you?"
âBecause I know Iâm right.â The two of you have never once torn into each other like this and while it breaks youâre heart, youâre so angry that lashing out is happening by instinct. It hurts so much more to be doubted by him and you canât even express why. Itâs devastating. âDo you even know what assignments they give me, Jack?â You hiss back, not hearing the shouts around you. âThe ones where they need someone to be invisible! If they need someone plain and ignorable, they come straight to me. Do you know how much that fucking hurts? Because Iâm good at it and thatâs even worse than them just assuming. Iâm excellent at not being noticed. At not being desired. Itâs my fucking superpower. So no, I donât think for a second that any of these dances were genuine moments of interest or offers for literally anything else. Because why would they be?â
His heart breaks and he's simultaneously enraged that you view yourself that way. "Five! Four! Thrâ" He reaches up and grabs the back of your neck to yank you forward so your nose is less than an inch from his own. "You want a goddamn offer?" He snarls, losing all sense of reason when it comes to you and ready to prove how wrong you are. "Here's your fuckin' offer." Without another word, he drags you forward to plaster his lips against yours in an angry kiss.
It should feel terrible. It should make you so angry you slap him. It should make you feel a hell of a lot of nasty things, but instead what you feel is the undeniable melting of your own self against him, finally getting the only thing youâve wanted since the day this infuriating cowboy sauntered into your life. Jack is firm under your hands, burning hot and intoxicatingly inviting in the way he does not pull away. You must have gotten so mad you blacked out, because this is impossible.
When you donât push him away, when you donât slap him, Jack growls. Using the soft sigh that you give to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth with another groan as the cheers and sing of Auld Lang Syne happens all around the two of you.
Either youâve burst a blood vessel from being so angry and ashamed or this is the best dream youâve ever had. Jack wraps both of his arms tight around you and you cling to him, fists dig into the arm of his suit jacket and the hair on the nape of his neck as you silently beg this hallucination never to end. You can live and die in this moment and tell yourself that it was more than a dream. You can imagine this is exactly how fiercely Jack kisses when he really wants to. When he wants someone.
The kiss has turned from an angry mashing of his lips against yours to a passionate mingling of your breath and tongues. You whimper and his entire body tighten with need. Overriding the portion of his brain that is screaming that this is a bad idea, that he is bad for you and continuing to kiss you as everyone else has moved into dancing now.
Neither one of you has realized that his hat has been knocked off, or that heâs drawn you so close your back has bowed, or even that youâve entirely given up on needing to breathe in order to never have to stop kissing him. Years of repressed desire and soul-crushingly unrequited love are just being poured into every second you spend drowning in this impossible fantasy.
âWell damn.â Champ chuckles from his position on the dance floor with his lovely wife. âDidnât expect that long of a show. Boy donât stop soon, heâs gonna devour her right there in the middle of the floor.â
âThatâs what happens when you repress your feelings for six goddamn years,â Ginger snorts in amusement. âShould I go interrupt them?â
âNo.â Champ decides with a shake of his silvery head. âLeave âem. Donât want the boy to get spooked before he makes up his mind whatâs gonna happen next.â
âAnd he will.â Ginger agrees with that completely. Jack spooks faster than a newborn foal.
âHe would, where sheâs concerned. Boy has his heart in it and heâs been fightinâ it.â Champ agrees as his wife chuckles. âHe will figure it out.â She promises. âRye wonât let him walk away from this with a smile and a handshake.â
âI think sheâd rather die than let him go, at this rate.â The smile on Gingerâs face is soft. Glad that her friend is finally getting everything she â you â have ever wanted. It really is only oxygen that makes the two of you pull apart, panting for breath with fingers curled into each otherâs flesh and clothes like youâre hanging on for dear life.
Jackâs eyes are dark and searching as he looks at you. Looking for the answer to a question and when he finds what heâs looking for, he grabs your hand and starts to drag you off the dance floor.
âJack?â The realization that that really just happened ignites a small panic in your chest and a riot in your mind, and the fact that Jack hasnât let go of you or run off in disgust is only confusing you more.
He doesnât speak, he canât speak right now. The people on the floor just seem to part, moving out of his way as he guides you off the floor. He does squeeze your hand though.
âJack?â The longer he goes without saying anything the higher the panic rises, but you cling to his hand all the way to the front door of Champâs house where the front room has been transformed into a coat closet.
Jack doesnât answer and spins you around to press you up against the wall, kissing you again. âGet your fuckinâ coat.â He demands roughly.
Itâs a much briefer kiss but it leaves you breathless all the same, and the determination in his eyes makes you shiver and rush to obey. If this is what youâre going to get with him â just a few demanding kisses before he decides it was a mistake and turns you away? Then youâll take it.
His hat is missing, Jack realizes when he goes to readjust it and frowns. Patting his head and looking around to see if it fell off around here, but itâs nowhere in sight. Itâs a small price to pay, but he runs his hand through his hair as you rush back to his side. âWeâre leaving.â
He doesnât seem angry, but for the life of you there is no version of tonight that goes any further. Not in your mind. A conversation about how you shouldnât have kissed him â or at least kissed him back, since you have a dim memory of his hand pulling you to him right before your mind went blank â or at least about how it was a mistake is bound to follow.
The second your hand is in his again, Jack is dragging you through the doors and down the stairs of the house to his Bronco. Heâs parked close, thank god and he can barely get the door open before heâs grabbing your waist and practically throwing you up into the seat.
It shouldn't be a thrill to be lifted up and tossed around as though you weigh next to nothing, but there is something in Jack's singular determination and focus that tells you not to question or fight it. If he wants to manhandle you a little before whatever uncomfortable confrontation is bound to happen? Well, it's not as though you haven't literally fantasized about that scenario. At least now you have a frame of reference.
Heâs holding onto his control, barely. Racing around the front of the vehicle and jumping in beside you. He canât even talk to you as he starts the engine. Thankful that his place isnât too far away as he throws the Bronco into gear and slings gravel as he spins out.
The most surprising part might be that he reaches for your hand as he drives. His fingers curl through yours and hold onto you on top of the gear shift, not letting you do your usual thing of shifting away or curling in on yourself in uncertainty.
Thereâs only two miles left to go. He grunts as he slows down to make the turn and your hand moves the shifter with him, making sure that he doesnât squeeze it too hard as he goes through the gears.
He's driving to his own house. You've done this route yourself more times than you can count for a thousand different reasons. The apartment that you rent with your ample Statesman salary is well on the other side of Louisville and Ginger lives closer to you than to Jack, so it's not like you have any doubt where he's headed. When he pulls the Bronco down his long and winding driveway toward the large farmhouse he's called home for a decade already, your hand tightens slightly in his, nervous and wondering what will come next.
When he cuts the engine, thereâs a half a second before he opens the door. Almost speaking but he doesnât. Instead, heâs climbing out to walk around the truck to open the door.
"I wish you would say something." Even if he's helping you out of the car and holding onto your hand, you can't figure out what's going on in his head. Not having any clue is making you a little panicky the longer it goes on.
Jack stops, two steps away from the path to the front door. âDo you want to come inside?â Thereâs a fear that you donât want this. That you are not on the same page as he is.
He's not angry. Or upset anymore, that you can tell. But the determination in his gaze is still there for something that you can't quite put your finger on. "Yes," you decide, nodding as you step toward both him and the house. "I do." Whatever happens, you're hopeful it won't be bad.
You said yes. Your words spur him on again and heâs off like a shot, dragging you behind him. The biometric lock is a godsend. Thereâs no fumbling for a key at the door as he hustles you inside and slams it behind you both, pressing you against it as he attempts to devour your mouth once more.
This was not the reaction you expected. Not in any way. Not even when he had kissed you twice at Champâs house before hauling you over to his place with the fires of hell scorching his toes. Anybody else might have read the signals, but not you. Not with the surprised squeal you let out or the soft moan that follows it â both completely outside of your control.
Youâre alone now and this time, Jack doesnât keep his hands on your waist. Both hands grab firm handfuls of your delightful round ass and squeezes as he presses into you. His painfully hard cock grinding into the soft pouches of your hips.
Because of the complete blanket of disbelief you're living under, it takes you longer than you're proud of or will ever admit to realize what is pressing against your hip. It's the first throbbing twitch from under his perfectly tailored suit that has your eyes flying open and both of your hands pressing firmly on his shoulders, breaking the kiss as you gasp in surprise.
âWhat- I thought-â Jackâs frown is one of utter confusion as he drops his hands and steps back from you. Hating the feeling of rejection and suddenly wondering if heâs made a fucking fool of himself by getting twisted in knots by a woman who doesnât actually want him. ââm sorry.â
"Why?" The incredulous question is out of your mouth before you can stop it, and the confusion marring both of your faces makes you suck in a deep breath. "IâI justâI'm surprised," you admit, as damned foolish as that makes you sound. Fucking shocked is what you are, but you don't want to be labor the point and ruin whatever is happening.
He feels foolish and embarrassed, like heâs been caught with his hand in a candy jar. Reaching up and running his hand through his hair, he blows out a breath. âYou said you wanted to come in.â He reasons. âI- what did you think would happen?â
"IâI don't know," you admit, feeling even more ridiculous than he does. Your back is still against his front door, crying out loud. "I ruled out you still being mad at me after you kissed me again but I didn't think..." Gesturing at him lamely, you blow out a breath and rub at the back of your neck. "I'm not saying I want to stop, I was just surprised." If this is the only chance you're going to get with him? You're going to take it and run with it as long as it lasts.
He frowns again, wondering how you could want him and yet be surprised when he wants to take you to bed. âSo what do you want, sugar? Because Iâm feeling like a penny at the bottom of a pan, rattled.â
The expression cracks the tension, at least for you, and an unexpectedly bright and beaming smile graces your lips as you reach for him boldly and find to your own delight and continued surprise that he doesn't draw away. "What I want is...a long shot." It's more than that, but you're downplaying your own fears to a rather extreme degree right now. Trying to be brave. "But...what are the odds you were thinkin' about taking me upstairs?"
âHouse odds.â Jack rasps out, knowing that the odds are always in the houseâs favor when playing at a casino. âPondered the idea of strippinâ you down right here and making you squeal against the door, but then tossinâ you over my shoulder and haulinâ you to my large, luxurious bed also has its merits.â
You genuinely have to shut your eyes to steady yourself, exhaling long and deep and praying you aren't actually moaning out loud like you are in your head. As it stands, both images he paints have your knees weak and your body shivering. "Eithâumâeither one," you manage to stammer out, eyelashes parting so hesitantly that they flutter like wings. "Either one is good."
âSexy as you look, sugarâŠ.â Now that he knows that you are on the same page as him, a little bit of the cocky swagger is back. âThinkinâ itâd be a goddamn shame not to spread you out.â Despite your stature, Jack tucks his shoulder and scoops you up over his shoulder like you weigh nothing, bolting for the stairs.
"Holy hell, Jack!" A nervous shout and a squeak escape you when he picks you up, and you cling to his jacket as he carries you through the house you've visited innumerable times before.
Chuckling, Jack slaps your ass with his free hand as he ambles up the stairs easily. âDonât be nervous, sugar, I wonât drop you.â
This time you definitely do moan out loud, too taken by surprise to stop the sound or swallow it before it can come out of your mouth and you know Jack heard.
He grins to himself, slapping your ass again and is rewarded with another moan. âMmmmhm.â He chuckles. âRye likes a little bit of light spanking. Noted.â
"Pretty sure I'll like anything you do," you admit ruefully, though you're quickly feeling the constraints of embarrassment fall away as he reaches his bedroom door. This is real. This is really happening.
"I'll keep that in mind when I hogtie you to the bed and lick whipped cream off your body." He teases, kicking open the slightly ajar door and striding into the room to toss you down on the bed like a character in a romance novel. Right now, he doesn't know if he's supposed to be the hero or the villain, feeling a bit like both as his rough handling of you as him immediately reaching for your ankles to pull off your shoes in his eagerness to see you naked in his bed.
âSee?â You huff at him, heavy breathing coming from nothing but an undeniable surplus of desire. âThat actually sounds sexy coming from you.â Everything does, but his quick fingers are divesting you of your shoes and that reminds you how your Spanx is part of this undressing process â which is the single least sexy thing in the world.
Jack rips off his tuxedo jacket and tosses it down on the floor. Climbing up onto the bed and over you to press against you fully, pinning you down to the bed with a groan. Quickly capturing your lips again in a frenzied kiss.
It makes no damn sense to you, but youâre not going to question it anymore. If Jack could have literally anyone in the world but for tonight he chooses you, then youâre just going to make sure he doesnât regret it. That decision on your part sort of pulls you out of your nervous shock, and all at once your hands are pulling open his tie and fumbling with the buttons on his shirt with enthusiasm.
âThere we go.â Jack groans when you stop acting shocked and start acting. Your hands on his body makes him shake and he canât help but rock his hips forward. âSugar.â
He could probably call you whatever he wanted and you would just go with it, but hearing him call you Sugar â that sickly sweet name he favors so much yet seems to bestow on you so rarely? It feels like you might melt so deeply into his plush mattress that you will never get up again.
Moving from your lips takes sheer willpower but he wants to explore more of you. One hand bracing on the bed and the other sliding up to squeeze your breast as he kisses down your chin and to the soft, vulnerable skin of your throat. âDriving me crazy, baby girl.â He coos, voice rough and lusty. âSo goddamn pretty.â
No one who has ever met Jack would be surprised to learn how mouthy the cowboy is in bed. Heâs mouthy in every other aspect of his life so frankly it would be pretty strange if this was the exception. Still, to hear those words said to you is beyond your wildest dreams. Itâs surreal in the most sensational of ways. Even when you had dreamed of being with Jack, you had never dreamed of him praising you.
He groans when your fingernails bite into the skin on his chest as you hastily push the shirt opened. âTigress, huh?â He growls, squeezing your tit again, a little harder this time and his hard cock pulses against your inner thigh. âDonât worry, sugar. Iâm just as goddamn eager as you. But âole Jack likes a bit of wildness.â He bites down on your shoulder as he chuckles. âWeâll have ourselves one hell of a rodeo tonight.â
If you even knew where half this boldness came from, you might be a little embarrassed. But given the fact that you never thought this would happen, it mostly just feels like you're telling yourself not to waste the chance. Lightning never strikes the same place twice and this is your lightning strike, so you're going to lean into the whole thing if that's what he really wants. Your nails strike a path down his chest but get caught in his undershirt, a fact which makes you huff in frustration and search blindly for the hem to tear off that layer of clothing as well.
Jack groans and finally decides to give you what you want. Pulling back long enough to finish pulling his arms out of the shirt sleeves, he tears the undershirt off and throws it off the side of the bed to reveal his chest. Unable to resist pulling your dress down to pop your breast out and diving back down to wrap his mouth around a nipple.
"Oh fuck." It's a move you weren't expecting, but your back arches off the mattress instinctively to push your chest up and invite him to take and take and take â just as much as he wants to. If you were coherent enough to suggest it you would try to start wiggling out of your dress but as it is the only thing you can focus on is the heat of him surrounding you and the way every place he kisses you seems to catch on fire immediately at the press of his lips.
He suckles, bites and then licks the hard nub in his mouth like heâs gorging himself on you. Because he is. Hands searching for the zipper to your gorgeous dress. Itâs beautiful, but it needs to be beautiful on his floor.
"If you want it off, you have to let me sit up," you manage to huff out, barely able to do more than pant at the way he's clearly trying to devour your tits first.
Groaning in protest, his lips are twisting in a pout as he pulls away. Panting breathlessly as he itches to launch himself at you again. âHurry up, sugar.â
Your hands are shaking when you reach for the zipper, pulling it down and carefully undoing the clasp at the top before letting the heavily sequined cocktail dress slip off of your arms so you can maneuver it over your head. Half-naked in Jack's bed with panties so soaked you could probably wring them out is not how you expected to end this night, but here you are.
âFuck.â Jack frowns at the tight shapewear heâs met with. âMy presentâs a little too wrapped for my liking, baby girl.â He hisses, curling his fingers under the layer to start stripping it off of you. âWant you naked.â
"It was the only way that dress was gonna look halfway decent," you mumble, shifting under him and definitely avoiding looking him in the face while he peels the Spanx off of you. It's a little bit too intimate even for the man you've wanted to be intimate with for years â to the point of making you feel completely naked even when you still have your bra and panties on.
He scoffs, nearly ready to whip his knife out and start slicing the material. âBullshit.â He huffs, happy thereâs just the bra and he uses two fingers to flick the four hooks open. âYou donât need nothinâ.â Instead of explaining, heâs diving back into your tits while one hand dips into your panties.
âFuck, Jack!â Instead of a tight reaction of shock, this time heâs rewarded with a moan and your legs falling open for him as the fingers of one hand dig through his thick hair to scratch along the base of his scalp. If he wants you to be bold, youâll be bold. Youâll be whatever Jack wants as long as you just get to be in his bed for one night.
Jack moans against your tits, incredibly turned on by the pure moxy heâs always loved in you. Despite your utterly untrue view on yourself, you are sassy, sweet and sexy. Thatâs why heâs unable to resist now that heâs tasted you. Once heâs teased one breast enough, he switches to the other. âGonna eat you up, sugar. Devour you whole.â
"All yours." It's sort of unintentional, the vow-like nature of the thing, but you're just being honest. You've really been Jack's since the day you met him. Even if it's taken so many damn years to get the two of you into this situation together, it's still the truth. "Whatever you want, handsome."
He groans, fingers sliding through the sweet slick that is covering your folds. âWant you.â He mumbles as he starts to slide his finger deeper, pressing against your entrance.
It's not even in your mind to ask why when he's splitting you open on two thick fingers like that, and you swear if that's how this night is starting you might actually ascend directly to some higher plain if you get to actual sex. "Haâfuckâ you have me."
âMmmmmm.â He licks your nipple âNot yet.â He pouts, pulling his fingers back out of you to plunge them in again. âBut I will, sugar. Cum for me and then Iâll have you like Iâve been dreaminâ.â
The curse you groan out is nearly incoherent, more of an agreement than anything else but you'll be damned if you let this moment be anything less than memorable for both of you. Jack hovers over you and you wind your arms around him to encourage him to continue sucking on your tits while his fingers piston in and out of your pussy with determination. You know it won't take too much longer before your legs start to shake, and as if Jack knows it just as intuitively, he curls his fingers inside you and you gasp out a moan of his name.
His teeth nip at your sensitive flesh as he hisses. Feeling how tight your pussy squeezes his fingers and imagines his cock inside you. Tight and fucking scorching hot, just like he had imagined with his hand wrapped around his cock in the shower. âThatâs it, pretty girl.â He coos before he sucks on your nipple again. Moaning when you arch up, writhing under him and making the prettiest, most desperate sounds heâs heard in a long time.
No one who has ever been in this bed has ever left it with any remaining doubts about Jackâs skills as a lover, and while you knew that before? Now you understand it oh-so-very deeply. His fingers pump into you mercilessly, curling at just the right angle to make you cry out in pleasure in every pass, and yet somehow heâs managed to keep the angle of that curl perfect while still holding them apart â stretching your eager pussy open and making sure youâre ready to take every inch of him. All of those intricacies combine with the dedication attention he is lavishing on your tits, and when the tense coil of restraint in your belly snaps it explodes into a thousand white-hot stars behind your eyes as you cum for him.
Youâre gorgeous when you fall apart, just like he knew you would be. Keeping his fingers moving, he watches, enthralled with you as you cry out his name in a pitch that has his cock throbbing. The hot gush of your pleasure makes his fingers squelch inside you and he groans out your name while he starts to slow down the rhythm of his hand, letting you float down from your orgasm, drawing it out for you.
âHoly hellâŠâ When your eyes open again youâre completely boneless beneath him, giggling softly at the light-as-air feeling in your body that never ever feels lighter than anything.
Dragging his wet fingers out of your cunt is his own personal kind of hell, but the urge to taste you is too great. Watching you with dark eyes as he slips his two fingers into his mouth with a lusty groan.
âTake your pants off.â The way you groan it is nearly an order but you definitely meant it to be begging, though at this point you donât care. Especially when he arches an eyebrow at you and smirks. âTake your fucking pants off, Jack.â
Chuckling, he shuffles off the bed to oblige you. âNever let it be said I donât follow orders, sugar.â He winks as he kicks off the tuxedo pants and hooks his fingers into his boxer briefs. âThese too?â
âThe fact that you even wear underwear is a shock,â you tease, motioning for him to continue stripping and trying â but probably not succeeding â to not stare.
He smirks. âHad to contain the beast for once.â He winks as he drags the tight material down. âDonât wear âem normally.â
The Beast is probably as good a name as any, and you have to swallow a groan when he frees his throbbing cock â already damp with precum. Itâs a wonder he can contain it, and youâre caught in between wanting to bend forward and taste him or just lying back for him to have his way with you. Curiosity and a curtain of lust win out on the short struggle, and you lean forward to take the purple head of his cock in your mouth just after he climbs back onto the bed.
âFuck!â Jack moans out loudly and pushes your head away gently after a moment. âBaby, babyâŠâ he pants. âYou keep that up and this rodeo will be over before it starts.â
âSorryâŠâ Embarrassment burns your cheeks, and you shift back to get under his blankets. âI just had to knowâŠâ
âNothing to be sorry for.â Jack huffs. Kneeling on the bed and pulling the covers away as you hide your body away from his eyes. âJust donât want to embarrass myself by blowing my load because of your pretty mouth before I can hear you scream my name.â
âI already have,â you remind him, a softness in your tone belied by the heat in both of your eyes. âGuess I might have to be a little louder this time.â
âOnly if itâs right in my ear.â Jack wraps his hand around his cock and strokes it as he reaches for your thigh. âBuried deep inside that little cunt and feeling like Iâve died and gone to heaven.â
It goes without saying that youâre both clean. All Statesman agents are required to have clean bills of health in order to be on the roster for missions and youâre both active agents. âIâhave an IUD.â Is what you tell him instead, shivering a little at the reality of what is about to happen.
Eyes lighting up in delight, Jackâs lips curl up. âOh sugar, itâs not my birthday yet, why are you showerinâ me with presents?â He coos, sliding his hand up and down your ample thigh. âPretty as a damn picture.â
The real answer is that youâre desperate to feel him, but you just smirk instead, not wanting to get your heart more involved than it already is. âBecause I donât have a condom and Iâll be damned if we stop now because of it.â
âIf you want me to get oneâŠâ Jack motions back to his pants. âI have one in my wallet.â
âI donât want the barrier,â you admit, biting your lip at the extremely vulnerable nature of that confession. âIf itâs okay with you.â
His smirk turns into a wicked grin. âYou read my mind, sugar. I want to feel all of you.â
You could make a joke about how much of you there is to feel, but just this once you stifle the urge. Opting instead to reach out and gently cup Jack's cheeks in both of your hands before pressing a soft, earnest kiss to his lips. "Then what are you waiting for, Cowboy?â
As you lean back, Jack follows you. Climbing up your body and groaning as he settles between your thighs. âYou want to cum again, pretty girl?â
"Not without you this time." The reality of Jack is better than anything you thought so far. Since this miracle is surely once in a lifetime, you want it to be as amazing as possible.
Jack groans your name, pressing his lips to yours in another hot, wet kiss. Passionate and consuming as he pushes an arm underneath you. âIâm right here with you.â
As impossible as it seems, he really is. He is right there with you, taking you in his arms and making you feel delicate and desirable for the first real time in your entire adult life.
He doesnât rush, although he wants to. Every kiss is slow and thorough. Reaching down between you to take hold of himself to notch at your entrance. âHold on, sugar. See if we can ride for longer than eight seconds.â
âIâm not gonna buck you, Jack.â You can promise him that, because you know damn well youâre going to hold onto this moment for dear life and not question the gift that it is. This one little shining moment is just for the two of you and youâre never going to forget a single second of it.
His eyes are watching, burning into yours as he starts to slowly rock his hips forward. Breaking you open with the first inch of his cock and swooping in to kiss you again when you gasp.
The world slows down, motions stretching into time and blending together in ways that you canât quite wrap your head around so all you know in this moment is Jack. Every time he thrusts forward again your moans get that much deeper, until on the final experimental rock of his hips, he is seated fully inside you and you feel so spellbound and grateful for the moment that youâre all but sure you could cry. Instead you pour yourself into kissing him, rocking your own hips slightly to take him more comfortably and adjust to the weighty feeling of having him inside you.
âFuck, baby girl.â Jack inhales sharply, stealing your breath as he tries to rein himself in, throbbing violently inside you. If it werenât for the fact that he had promised you a rodeo, he would be cumming, overwhelmed by how hot and tight you are. Youâre perfect, just like he always imagined. âYou be a good girl and take my cock, mâkay?â
Good girl is another one of those sticking points for you just like getting your ass slapped, and if Jack had no idea before, he certainly does now, from the way your cunt just spasmed around his length and you moaned like you were coming all over again.
âOhhhhhh.â Jackâs eyes nearly cross and he gives a particularly sharp thrust when you clamp down around him. âYou like that.â He pants out. âYouâre my good girl?â
âSânot fair,â you huff, throwing him a playful pout that gets cut by another shaky moan. âYouâre finding all the buttons I like pushed way too easily.â
âYou havenât - fuck - figured out my buttons yet, sugar?â Jack ducks his head down and slides the arm not underneath you down your hip and thigh to pull it up higher. Sinking deeper into you with a moan of your name.
âLiking to have your cock sucked doesnâtâfuck!â count,â you tell him, back arching as he hits a new angle inside you.
He chuckles and licks at your pulse before he nips at your skin with his teeth. Fingers digging into your pillowy flesh and groans when you clench around him again.
Finding a rhythm is as easy as breathing. Being with him is so much more natural and intuitive than you dreamt it would be. Your natural tendency to be a little rougher is equaled by his enthusiasm for making the bedroom a loud and raucous experience. Thereâs no hiding from each other or demurring, not once you get going. Itâs like something inside you has finally been unlocked after a lifetime of waiting â waiting for Jack to come along with the key that would open you up.
If it surprises Jack that you are wild in bed, itâs probably the best goddamn surprise heâs ever gotten. His back burns from the raking of your nails when he hits deep. He fucking loves it. Your wildness makes him go absolutely feral over you.
Itâs the opposite of who you are in everyday life. A version of you just for him. A version of you that leaves your worries outside the circle of your bodies and embraces sex as something carefree. Which, if youâre honest, isnât really how youâve felt about sex with anyone besides Jack. (edited)
His lips and teeth map every inch that he can reach as he pumps in and out of you frantically. Trying to keep the pace hard and fast because every time your cunt clenches, his hips stutter from how fucking tight you are. âFuck, my good girl.â He growls. âSo fucking tight.â
âSo fucking big,â you give back, starting to pant heavier and more unevenly. Thereâs a whine forming in the back of your throat that you canât hold back and you bite down on the juncture of Jackâs shoulder as your legs threaten to shake all over again. Youâre so close to cumming but you donât want this to end.
Jack changes the tempo, slowing down and grinding his pelvis against your clit. âYou gonna cum for me, baby girl?â He rasps out. âCum on Jackâs big âole cock and soak me?â
"Soâoh, fuckâclose, baby." The way you feel right now, you might actually fall apart at the seams when you cum again, but it will be worth it. It will be worth just knowing first hand how gorgeous Jack looks when he follows you over the edge. "Don't stop. Don't fucking stop, Jack."
âNever.â Jack growls, smashing his teeth together and hissing at the way you claw and writhe under him. Itâs like taming a feral cat in a pillowcase and he loves it. Your thighs are crushing his hips and all he can do is imagine them around his head. âCum for me.â
A half dozen thrusts later, your cunt is clenching down on his cock and pulsing with a fierce orgasm that has your thighs tensing at his waist and your back bowing off the bed. Everything seems to be happening at the top of however it possibly could, and that includes the way you cry his name into the night before collapsing back into his sheets with your arms and legs still around him, willing him to follow you to bliss.
Jack moans your name, pants it again against your lips. His brow knitted in concentration as he tries to last. His body tightening and tensing as his pleasure builds to that almost painful precipice. His heart pounding, but not because of the physical exertion, but because of the almost loving look on your eyes. âLove you.â He moans, right as his lips crash against yours and he breathes it into your mouth again. âLove you.â
You freeze under him, but Jack is too caught in his bliss to tell. Like a bucket of water has been splashed over the bubble of this night and popped that shell keeping you separate from the world. Did he just...? There's no way. There's just absolutely no way at all. You must have imagined it. Wished for it so desperately that you hallucinated the words. Because otherwise you're not quite sure what you'll do â because Jack has never lied to you. But he's also never given you any reason to think your feelings might be requited.
Caught up in his orgasm, Jack rides wave after wave of complete bliss as he empties himself into you, metaphorically and physically. Giving you every bit of himself as he finally acknowledges the truth of why he has always kept you at arms length. His love for you terrifying him, but right now, heâs flying. Collapsing into your arms and panting out your name as he catches his breath.
There's nothing you can do with this shock except bury it, holding him and gently stroking his hair while he catches his breath with his head on your chest. You imagined it, you remind yourself silently, blinking back tears at how much you wish it was true.
The whiskey, the emotions and the exertion have Jack cuddly and sleepy as he comes down from his orgasm. âFuck, baby girl.â He hums, kissing your neck as he slowly pulls out of you and shifts to your side to roll you over with him. âWore me out.â He chuckles. âBut gave a hell of a ride.â
He tucks you into his arms to be his little spoon, not letting you get away for even a second. Any other time? This would have been thrilling. "Get some sleep, baby." Returning the pet name seems innocent enough, and you reach back to run your fingers through his hair gently. "You earned it."
His eyes are closed when he shoots you a sleepy grin. âTalk when we wake up, sugar.â He promises, fingers stroking your skin softly.
That promise might be why you sleep so fitfully in the night to follow. Why you're so wound up that when your Statesman issued phone chirps from your purse on his floor around 6:30 in the morning, your eyes open immediately. Jack has turned over in the night, sleeping on his back now with one arm still around you but not so tightly that you can't extract yourself to answer the message. That phone is used only for missions and confidential communication, meaning you absolutely cannot ignore it. Incoming Message: Agent Rye report immediately for mission briefing. CODE BLACK. Code Black. You curse under your breath, careful not to wake Jack, and rub one hand down your face in dismay. That level of secrecy in a mission assignment means you can't even wake him up to say goodbye. You're supposed to speak to no one, just proceed immediately to the nearest Statesman branch for your mission briefing. With a sigh and another, more colorful curse, you shake your head and glance back at the bed where Jack is sleeping soundly. There's nothing to do but get dressed and Walk of Shame your ass into the office. You just wish you could wake him up to say goodbye.
Itâs been years since Jack has slept so well. Deep and dreamless, none of the nightmares that often plague his rest. The soft scent of you surrounding him and soothing him like nothing heâs had in a long time. When his eyes open, heâs feeling like heâs had the best sleep of his life. Frowning when he doesnât feel you next to him. Calling out your name softly in case you were in the bathroom. âRye? Sugar?â
There's no trace of you anywhere. He may as well have come home alone last night, except for the scent of you in the air and the scratches on his back. It's almost an insult when he sees a fallen sequin on the rug where your dress had been tossed.
âFuck.â Jackâs slipped out of plenty of beds, ducked out and kept walking. The walk of shame was never shameful when there was a little bit of pep to his step, but right now, heâs pissed. Pissed you didnât have the fucking balls to wake him before you slipped off like a thief in the night. Snatching up his pants, he digs into the pocket for his phone, dialing your number and ready to have it out with you.
"Hi! Sorry I can't come to the phone right now. Please leave a message and I'll call you back as soon as I'm able!" Your voicemail message is insultingly chipper when it picks up right away, almost taunting him. Like you aren't willing to talk, when nothing could be farther from the truth.
âFuck!â Jack shouts, throwing the phone and scowling angrily. Pissed that you arenât here, that you apparently donât want to talk to him. âFine, you regret it? Fuck you too.â He growls and stomps into the bathroom to shower. If you wanted nothing to do with him after he had let down his walls last night, he wants nothing to do with you either.
******
"What's got you all chewed up and spat out today?" Tequila raises an eyebrow at Jack when he comes huffing into the office, a little late and a lot pissed off. He had expected Jack to be in a stellar mood.
âNot a goddamn thing.â Even though his feathers are ruffled, Jack practically refuses to even think about you. To the point where he had thrown the sheets and the costly Tom Ford tuxedo away. âWhadda we got?â Desperate to concentrate on a mission, he jumps straight into business.
"Wingman prep." Tequila tells him, tapping the folder on his own desktop. "Somebody got tapped this morning and Champ wants us to comb some old mission files to prep for an extraction. Plan B sorta shit." And since all of the mission-ready agents on the Statesman payroll are top notch with years of experience under their belts, anyone potentially needing an extraction from a mission is a big fucking deal.
âWho got tapped?â Jack asks, grabbing a file and flipping it open with a frown on his face. âScotch?â
"I thought you'd know already." Tequila's eyes snap back up to Jack in concern. "It was Rye."
Jack freezes and slowly lifts his eyes from the file to find Tequila frowning at him, confused by how he doesnât know. âWhy would I know that?â Jack asks after a moment. It explains why your phone was off, but you had still slipped out without saying a fucking word.
"Because...you went home with her last night?" Everybody knows that you and Jack left the party. Absolutely everyone. There was a whole extra celebration after you left. "Figured you woulda known by her getting up this morning and all."
Thereâs a split second where Jack wants to snap that you had left him to wake up alone, but he doesnât. What comes out of his mouth instead, is to deny the whole thing. âTook her home.â Jack shrugs, lying easily as if he couldnât care less. âShe wanted to soak in a bath and read some book.â
The frown on Tequila's face deepens measurably, pure confusion marring his usually chipper face. "Bullshit," he huffs, leaning back in his desk chair. "I saw you kiss her. No way."
âBelieve what you want.â Jack snaps flatly. âWhere are we in planning the back up plans?â The hurt is soothed slightly by you being called away, but it doesnât make it nonexistent. You hadnât even left a goddamn message for him. He could have seen not waking him if you had left some sign that you didnât regret the night even happened.
"Early stages." Knowing better than to poke the dragon when he's mad about something, Tequila defers to work like Jack clearly wants. "Tell me what you think, but I think me on the ground and you in the Silver Pony is the best bet." Whatever happened between you and Jack, the man is clearly hurt, and Tequila makes a note to go and talk to Ginger when he gets his next chance. If you had said anything to anyone, it would be to her.
âWhatever.â Jack practically rolls his eyes and shrugs. Usually he loves the opportunity to fly and show off in the Silver Pony, but heâs so worked up over you that he doesnât even bat an eyelash. âGuess thatâs the plan. If needed.â
âIf needed.â All Tequila does is nod, but damn he really needs to talk to Ginger.
******
Jack holes up in his office, barely answering the phone and not leaving it all day, not even for lunch. Catching up on paperwork that is normally never done as he works through not being at home. Not remembering how you tasted and sounded last night. Heâs even refused to pull up your camera footage, not wanting to see what you are doing. Heâs miserable and is determined to stay that way.
âThought Iâd find you in here.â Champâs gruff voice cuts through the silence long after everyone else has gone home for the night. He knew exactly where Jack would be. Especially after Tequila said the senior agent was out of sorts. âCome up to my office, Jack. Weâre gonna have a drink.â Itâs not a suggestion or a request. This is a direct order from this commander, and Champ turns around and heads back down the hall knowing Jack will follow.
Jack sighs and sets his pen down, ripping the reading glasses off his face and tossing them down on the folder. He had stayed cooped up in his office so he didnât take his bad mood out on anyone so he doesnât see why he needs to be called out onto the carpet. Still, he pushes back from his desk and follows the older man to the conference room Champ preferred over his official office. The bar cart in here was better stocked.
âPick your poison.â Champ tells him, motioning for Jack to sit down at the conference table as he strolls over to the cart to grab a bottle and two glasses.
âWhatever your havinâ.â Jack wonders what this is about, but he doesnât ask. Just waits patiently for his boss to get to the reason in his own sweet time.
Champ grunts slightly, grabbing a bottle of â74 Reserve, and brings it to the table. He pours two fingers in each glass and slides one over to set in front of Jack before sitting down beside him and taking a sip from his own glass. âYouâve been hidinâ today,â he assesses after a moment of silence. âBut I hear you damn near took Tequilaâs head off this morning when you got in.â
âCanât have a bad day?â Jack asks, picking up the whiskey and staring at it before taking a sip. âWoke up wrong, thatâs all. Iâll apologize to the crybaby later.â
âHeâs not a damn crybaby,â Champ huffs, covering his own amusement with a scowl. âI walked by your damn office, fool. And when he did come talk to me about it, it was because he was worried about you.â
âJesus Christ.â Jack scowls and shakes his head. âI had a bad morning. Iâm fine. Not gonna go off and try to kill all the drug users again.â
âNot saying you would.â Holding up his hands in a show of innocence, Champ leans back all the way and stares down his nose at Jack for a second longer before he shakes his head and shrugs. âBut between you and me just these walls? Just thought you might wanna know that Rye got sent off Code Black, is all.â He isnât supposed to say. Black is black. Itâs too priority and top security. But youâd been so torn up this morning and Jackâs been so out of sorts in his own way that Champ has rightfully assumed that something fairly big mustâve happened after you left the party.
His jaw nearly drops. Champ never gives information away like that. He frowns, looking back down at his glass again and feeling relieved. If you had gotten a Code Black, you couldnât wake him up. It would have been against protocol. He swallows and finally nods. âGood to know.â
âJust donât want you stewing over it.â The older man says, watching carefully as he sips from his glass again. âYou wanna be upset with anyone, itâs me. Not her.â
âRight.â Jack drains the rest of the whiskey and the crystal hits the table slightly harder than normal. âAnything else?â
âNah. Thatâs it.â Thereâs nothing more that Champ can really say, and now Jack needs to process. Thatâs just how these things work. âSee ya in the morning, Daniels.â
Jack stands. ââNight, Champ.â He walks out of the room and back down the hall towards his office, looking down at his feet as he goes.
******
Itâs two weeks before Tequila and Jack are given a stand-down order and told their rescue mission wonât be necessary. Mission success, theyâre told with authority, even though it took longer than expected. They donât get more than that, though, and Jack is walking past Gingerâs lab on his way out of the office late that night when he hears your voice again for the first time in weeks. Itâs tired, and quiet, but unmistakable. âCan we just get this over with, Ging?â You ask your friend quietly, knowing that decontamination and a full physical are extremely necessary considering where youâve been and what youâve been doing. But you want to get the hell out of here and finally go talk to Jack.
He would never admit it, but heâs been living at Statesman. Barely going home to change and often refreshing the outfits that he keeps in his office for unexpected late nights. On call the entire time in case you needed him. Now you are here and Jack feels like running away. So much self doubt had built up over two weeks, heâs driven himself crazy over every little thing. Obsessing over the details of New Years.
âOnce you have a clean bill of health, you go storm the ranch or whatever it is youâre going to do.â Ginger teases, full of warmth. âBut I would try his office first.â
Jack frowns slightly and wonders what the hell Ginger is talking about, storming the ranch. He almost pushes the door open, but he doesnât. Just wants to see what you will say if you know that heâs not listening.
âItâs been two weeks, Ging.â The pops and hums and beeps of her equipment punctuate your voice from inside the lab. âEvery single second I havenât been thinking about this mission Iâve been reliving that night. And I could kill Champ for sending me away Code fucking Black before I could even tell Jack how I feel about him.â
âI know it was bad timing.â He hears Ginger sigh. âBut hopefully it gave you some time to think about what youâre going to say?â
Jackâs stomach twists and he feels nauseous. Wondering if youâve decided that it was a mistake. He swallows harshly and whirls around, not wanting to hear how you plan on letting him down or friend zoning him.
âIâm going to tell him the truth,â he misses hearing you say. âThat Iâve been in love with him for six years, and that Iâm done being a coward about it.â This mission so easily could have killed you every single day that it became something of an eye opener. Getting back to Jack had become the most dominant and driving force in your mind at times.
Walking down to his office has Jack twisted in knots. Heâs never been a coward before but he damn sure feels like running. Playing back that night in his head over and over had made him realize what he had said. More importantly, what you hadnât said back. Walking over to his bar cart, he pours himself a heavy double and bolts it down. Heâll get wasted after you crush his hopes but that was needed so he doesnât beg like a pathetic wretch. He needs to keep his pride somehow.
Itâs twenty more minutes before he hears footsteps in the hall and hears your tentative voice calling his name. âJack?â Thereâs nerves in it, anxiety hovering around you despite your triumphant mission. But you appear in his doorway looking worried and chewing your lip. âHeyâŠyouâre still here.â
âWorkâs never done.â Jack huffs, plastering on a friendly but not too friendly expression. âHavenât seen you around in a few weeks. Mission go alright?â Itâs painful to see you in that doorway, looking tired and beautiful. Reminding him of how you looked before he had fallen asleep and lost you.
âIâm home and in one piece.â Itâs what you always say, but at least itâs true. He doesnât exactly look happy to see you, though, and that makes you falter a little. Not enough to shake your resolve, but your optimism that heâll respond with joy cracks right away. âDo youâŠcan we talk a little?â
âSure.â He takes off his reading glasses and stands. Moving over to the alcohol again. âWant a drink?â He asks, not looking over his shoulder at you. He sees the worry on your face and knows you are concerned about your working relationship. What he will do will be accept your wants, wish you well and promise that he will not let what happened affect your professional relationship. Then he will demand a transfer to the New York office, permanently. You nod and he pours out two drinks. âWhatâs on your mind, Rye?â
âWellâŠyou are.â It seems like such an obvious answer that it almost feels silly saying it, but he wonât even look you in the eye so staring at the beginning seems like a good idea.
âOh?â Turning around is hard, but he manages to look curious instead of sick to his stomach. âNow why would I be on your mind, sugar?â The endearment slips out and he nearly bites his tongue as he carries them over to the small sofa area.
The message is loud and clear: it really didnât mean anything to him. Regardless, though, you have to power through. If he really didnât mean what he said and has no interest in being with you, youâll request a permanent transfer. Chicago, Dallas, Los Angeles â anywhere but here or New York. Swallowing a sigh, you accept the glass from him but just hold it in your hands while you gather your thoughts. âIâm sorry we didnât get to talk before I had to leave,â you start, trying not to let the warmth and proximity of him get under your skin so easily. But you canât really help it. âI did the best I could for a message to let you know what had happened, but it wasnât much. And Iâm sorry for that, too.â
His facade cracks, the scowl as quick to vanish as it appears and he scoffs. âMessage received, Rye. A lone sequin on the floor. Practically like it was a dream, except for that.â He tosses back the whiskey. âCan you just get to the part where you tell me it was a mistake, you donât want to ruin our friendship or work relationship? Or whatever bullshit excuse youâve settled on to tell me you regret it?â His eyes are dark and pained when they finally land on you, barely resisting the urge to flee.
âOn the floor?â Your brow furrowed instantly, a frown painting itself on your lips, and you set the glass in your hands aside to shift closer to him on the little couch. âJack, I left a sequin on your nightstand.â The choice was even more horrible than you had worried it would be, apparently, because he looks so hurt he could actually cry. A fact which makes you instantly want to cry as well. âA black sequin was the best I could do for a signal. Itâit must haveâŠblown off. Stupid fucking flapper dress with all that fringe. It must have gone flying when I left the room.â There was no other breeze, no window open or fan blowing. Only you could have sabotaged yourself like that.
He doesnât believe you and shakes his head. âWhy would you leave a black-â he trails off when it hits him. Black sequin - Code Black. Trying to tell him that you had wanted to leave a message but couldnât. Champ had broken protocol by telling him about the Code Black and apparently you had tried to signal the same thing. âReally?â
âYes, really.â You shake your head in resignation, blowing out a shuddering breath. âI didnât want to leave. Especially not afterâŠâ Another shaky breath leaves the rest of you shaking in turn, and you shove your hands under your legs on the couch. This is the most terrifying thing youâve ever asked a person in your entire life. âDid youâŠmean it? What you said?â
Jack bites his lip, wanting to ask you what youâre talking about but he canât do that. You look distraught that he had thought you had just disappeared. âYeah.â Jack admits quietly. âLook, I know that itâs not something you were expectinâ ta hear, and you donât feel the same.â He rolls on with the emotions that he needs to get out. âI wonât be mad, or take it out on you. But that nightâŠ.fuck.â He blows out a breath. âI got to touch you. Just like I fuckinâ dreamed of. And I couldnât just let you think it was a heat of the moment thing for me.â
âWhy do you think I donât feel the same?â With your heart beating wildly and your shakiness only increasing, thereâs a sort of explosive quality in your mind and body that you canât quite figure out how to control. Like all you want to do is launch yourself at him for a kiss but you know you need to talk first. To get it all out in the open. To be honest with each other. âIâI honestly had no idea you thought of me as anything but a friend. I wasâŠwellâŠshocked is a bit of an understatement.â
Jack snorts. âI know my reputation. Hell, I crafted it. But I couldnât flirt with you. Itâs too- shit- you had me from the first time we met. I was fucking hooked and it wouldnât have been right. You were a junior agent and -â he shakes his head. âI was running from the kind of commitment you were made for.â
âYour reputation was built by a man who had loved his wife so deeply that he couldnât bear the thought of loving and losing again,â you remind him quietly. You sure you hadnât known that right away, but when you had learned about his wife and son, you understood implicitly. âBut itâŠit never stopped me from falling in love with you. Even when I thought Iâd never be more to you than an acquaintance. I considered myself damn lucky to eventually become your friend. I just thoughtâŠI thought the fact that you never, ever flirted with meâŠmeant that it was unrequited. So I made myself okay with it. Until two weeks ago.â
âI respect you, Rye.â Jack murmurs quietly. âI didnât want to make it seem like you were everyone else, because you werenât.â Itâs backwards and twisted, but no one ever said that he had defeated all his demons. âWhen I broke- I gave you everything.â
âMore than you know.â A soft huff of a laugh escapes you and you shake your head again, willing your nerves to calm down even a little. âJustâŠplease understand, Jack. That Iâve been in love with you since the second I met you. And the only reason I didnât say it back the night we slept together is because I was so shocked to hear it from you in the first place. I thought Iâd hallucinated what I wanted to hear, and then before I knew it we were asleepâŠand then I woke up to a Code Black.â
âI was upset.â Jack admits quietly. âReally upset.â He flushes slightly. âMay have been thinkinâ some not-so-polite things until Tequila told me it was you who was slated for the mission.â He wonât tell you that Champ had broken the rules. âConvinced myself that you had run off to go save the world so you wouldnât have to tell me that youâd had too much alcohol and thatâs why you let me take you home.â
âNot at all.â Taking a chance, you reach for his hand and practically sigh in relief when he slots his fingers through yours. âI pretty much thought Iâd died and gone to heaven, if Iâm honest. I just kept thinkingâŠif this only happens once, I never want to forget a single thing.â You squeeze his hand gently, wishing you could have said all this two weeks ago. âIâm sorry my message didnât work. ThatâsâŠyou have every right to think nasty things about me. Iâm so sorry.â
âNo I donât.â Jack protests. âNot if you meant to be here. Not if you wanted to be here the next morning. Then itâs just a bad misunderstanding and Iâm sorry.â
âThen I guess weâre both sorry.â Heâll never know that you cried all the way to the office that morning at having to leave him, you decide right now. It would only make him feel even more guilty and he doesnât deserve that. âBut Iâm not sorry about what happened between us.â
âYou arenât?â He tightens his grip on your hand, relaxing slowly as you talk and he understands that this was one giant cluster fuck. Heâs used to those, he can handle those. âThatâs good, sugar. Because New Years was probably the best night of my life.â
âGod, I hope you mean that.â Your shakiness is for more than one reason, although you needed to have this conversation first. Whatever the two of you decide will happen next is a decision made by both of you, not just you alone. âBecauseâŠGinger couldnât clear meâŠafter my physical. I canât go back on the list.â
Jack frowns, brows pulling together. âWhy canât Ginger clear you? Whatâs wrong?â Thereâs a number of things that can be fixed by Statesman tech and heâs worried that itâs something bad.
Your stomach churns with worry, but thereâs nothing to be done about it now. The unmistakable advances of Statesman tech can do things that most doctors absolutely cannot, thanks to Ginger Ale, and youâre not sure whether to thank her or curse her. âItâs not that somethingâs wrong, technically,â you admit, giving another worried squeeze to his hand. âBut we probably ought to have used that condomâŠâ
Jackâs eyes widen and they drop to your stomach, discerning the meaning of your comment. You arenât a liar and Jack would believe you if you said you didnât sleep with someone else, but heâs confused. âSugar- how?â He chokes out. âI got snipped when I joined Statesman.â
âWhen was the last time you had your sperm count checked?â You had made Ginger do the test three times, but the result was always the same. Your birth control failed and Jackâs second kid is already growing, if very slowly. âThe chances of a vasectomy failing are less than one percent, but it can still happen.â
Jack frowns and then rolls his eyes and groans. âThe chamber.â He remembers. âWhen I got shot and then- uh, put back together.â He shakes his head. âGing said I might need to get it checked but I dadgum forgot.â He bites his lip and tries not to freak out over the fact that you are pregnant after your one and only time together. âWhat do you want, sugar?â He asks.
âNot more than youâre willing to give freely.â The answer is that you want all of him. Every single bit. Love and a life and a family. But you know that even if Jack does love you, heâs never loved anyone the way he loved his wife. And losing Maria nearly destroyed him, so he may not be willing to take that chance again. âBut IâŠunless you really objectâŠIâm keeping the baby. Even if you donât want a commitment or anything. I justâŠyouâre right about me. I want a family and if this is my only chance I donât want to give that up. Especially not if I get even the littlest piece of you with it.â
âYou think I would-â he shakes his head. âNo, I would never force you, one way or the other.â He frowns. âI was asking if you wanted to have a baby. And if you think Iâm gonna sit back and let you raise it by yourself, you must have hit your dadgum head.â
âI want this baby.â It had only taken about ten seconds after learning it existed to determine that, even if youâre still grappling with the reality of it. âAnd I want you.â You inch closer to him on the couch. âHowever you want to be together. That part is up to you.â
âItâs been a long damn time since Iâve thought about being a daddy, sugar.â Thereâs a slight smirk on his face but he doesnât make the obvious crude joke. âBut Iâm pretty traditional when you break it down. Iâm not gonna want to be apart from you and our baby.â
He might not have made the joke but you still laugh, having made the sugar daddy connection in your mind easily enough. âI know itâs a lot, Jack. And we didnât plan it. ButâŠâ All you can do is shrug your shoulders slightly, looking up at him with such obvious hope and even more obvious water behind your eyes. âBut, I love you.â
âI meant it, baby girl.â He promises you, reaching out to caress your cheek and then cup it. âI love you. I love you so much, sugar.â Licking his lips, his eyes drop down to yours. âCan I kiss you?â
"I wish you would." practically beaming at him, you lean in and let the moment wash over you. Jack's lips against yours. His hands on your skin. His baby - your baby - is already starting to grow.
Jack pulls you close, pressing his lips against yours and groaning softly. âSugar, youâre gonna have my baby.â He whispers against your lips in awe. âJust the one time, one time between your thighs and you are carrying my baby.â
âOne time is all it takes.â You canât help the broad way you smile, giggling softly against his lips as you steal another kiss.
âI donât regret it.â He promises. âI donât regret you.â He smiles as he kisses you again. âWe really did shake things up for New Years, didnât we?â
âJust a little bit.â Another laugh escapes you, and you lean into his side only to be rewarded with Jackâs arms encircling you and holding you close. âI donât regret any of it. Except maybe not making my message a whole lot clearer.â
âWeâll get better at communicatinâ.â Jack promises with a smile. âWeâre partners now.â
âDo you want to go get dinner, maybe?â The end of a mission can be crazy even when itâs successful, and you just want to try to relax tonight. Especially with everything changing in your personal life too, apparently. âMy treat?â
Jack scoffs and shakes his head. âYou ainât paying, sugar.â He huffs. âNot while youâre with me. If you want dinner, we can go out, or I can take you home and throw some steaks on the grill.â
âI kind of want to celebrate,â you admit, feeling silly about it even though itâs the truth. âIf thatâs okay?â
âThen weâll go out and celebrate.â Jack promises before he frowns at something you had said. âWhy would you have thought I would never be interested in you?â
âBecauseâŠâ It feels sillier than the celebration thing now that you know the truth. Silly and even a little pointless, but he asked so youâll tell him. âBecause you flirted with every woman in the world besides me. Which Ginger said is how she knew you were interested in me. But I didnât believe her.â
âYou know youâre wrong, donât cha?â Jack asks you. âWhen you said that you get sent on assignments to be invisible? Youâre sent on the assignments you are given because you get the job done. Champ knows that if he gives you a task, it will be done.â
âWhatever the reason is, heâll have to do without me for about a year.â It isnât worth having a debate over your lack of self esteem with him right now, and you especially donât want to ruin the mood by crying anything other than happy tears, so you just redirect the conversation altogether. âThis baby is my top priority.â
âOur top priority.â He corrects you. Heâs nervous, terrified really, but thereâs no one heâd rather have a happy accident with than you. âOur New Yearâs baby.â
______
Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04
#Pedro Pascal#Pedro Pascal character fanfiction#Pedro Pascal fanfic#Jack Daniels#Agent Whiskey#Jack Daniels x reader#Jack Daniels x you#Jack Daniels x female reader#Jack Daniels x f!reader#Jack Daniels x plus size reader#Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels#Kingsman Golden Circle#new years eve#new years fic#idiots in love#pining#the love is requited they're just dumb
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Kinktober 2024: October 7th
Day 7: Bruising or Bitemarks // Virgin // Ice Play
Agent Whiskey x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: Vaginal sex, cock riding, biting, hickies, begging, submissive Whiskey, teasing
|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
âUh, Whiskey?â Jack looks up from examining the amber tone of the newest batch of Statesman that had been un-barrelled and bottled, sniffing the oaky rich notes and was satisfied with the hint of cloves and honey. It will be a good vintage, one that he had personally crafted and he was just about to put it to his lips to taste when heâs interrupted.Â
Looking up, he finds Champ, aka Agent Champagne, his boss - staring at his neck. Making him frown at the bewildered and slightly bemused expression on the older manâs face. âWhat is it?â He asks, setting down the glass and reaching up, his brows pulling together even more when he feels a tender abrasion that has been exposed as his collar moved down, pulled tighter as he had sat. Making his own embarrassment bloom on his face as he realizes what Champ is staring at.Â
****
âFuuuuuuuck, sugar.â Itâs hotter than fucking Satanâs ass in the middle of July, but heâs not going to even fucking complain. Your sweat slick body writhing on top of him, your cunt wrapped around his cock, bouncing on it so expertly that it makes his toes curl every time you settle on him. His head tips back, eyes closed as you kiss down his jaw.Â
You hum, the sound almost a growl as you reach up and start to tangle your fingers into his sweaty hair, holding onto him like you are riding a bull. Putting a little more roll into your hips as your teeth come out and you scrap them over his skin.Â
âOh shit.â Jack hisses, his cock twitching in an instinctive reaction to your little nip and making you giggle.Â
âYou like that, baby?â You coo, your voice dripping with sex and honey, just the way he likes it. You nibble at his throat again and he moans softly, his cock jolting inside your walls again. Even if he denies it, his body is telling you that he loves what youâre doing.Â
âHmmmmm.â You smirk and open your mouth wider, letting your teeth sink into the sensitive flesh of his neck, right above the pulse and dig in.Â
Your name falls as a whimper from his lips, his own fingers digging impossibly tight into your hips. Holding you there rather than trying to push you away. You know Jack is stronger than you are, you have seen him in action. If he didnât want this, he could easily stop it.Â
The fact that he doesnât makes you feral. Sucking and biting more and more. The same spot over and over again until he is wearing an impression of your teeth in the smooth, tanned skin of his vulnerable throat. A bruise is already starting to bloom under the surface from where the pressure of your mouth has broken capillaries.Â
âGoddamn.â He pants, rocking his hips up into you, needing and wanting more of your cunt while you lose yourself in the taste of his sweat and the beauty of marking his body as your own. âSugar, you gotta- I need-âÂ
He whines again when your tongue presses at the hollow of his throat, your teeth scraping over his Adamâs apple. Heâs never been one to give up too much control, but right now, itâs like youâve lassoed him to the bed and he can do nothing more than bed for you. Chills racing up his spin every time your teeth bite into his flesh and his body pulls tight in pleasure.Â
âI know what you need.â You tease, lapping at the latest mark and then deciding to suck on it again. Enjoying the tightening of his core and the melting of his limbs as you put another set of bitemarks to his shoulder after youâre satisfied with one right above his collarbone.Â
His chest becomes your canvas, your mouth the paintbrush. Bruises and impressions start to form a pattern over his skin. Making him whine and squirm ever more, groaning in protest when you actually pull off his cock so you can move down his body.Â
Another bruise on his hip bone, making sure that it will be vivid when it fully forms, imagining the way it will look when his low slung jeans rest right below it. It makes your now empty cunt clench around nothing and you moan before you move to give him a matching mark on the right side.Â
Jack Daniel whines when you bite right next to the base of his cock. You donât apply as much pressure as you do on the less sensitive areas, but the shudder of his thighs and lovely little spurt of pre-cum that beads up against his belly and slides down his stomach gives away how much he likes this.Â
Your tongue teases his balls, making him gasp and they draw tight, as if he is about to cum, but you move away and his groan is heavy with disappointment.Â
Focusing on his thighs. You always love how thick and strong they are. Able to ride a bull and hold tight, they are tight with need and anticipation as you smirk up at him, your face planted right at the most sensitive inner portion.Â
âCock tease.â He blows out a half breath, half laugh as he looks down at you. âYou might as well make your mark there, too.â He pants, making your smirk at the way he makes begging seem like heâs going you a favor. He wants this just as much as you do, maybe even more.Â
You blow on his skin, making him hiss before you finally give him what he wants. Your mouth suctioned to his skin, pulling it harshly before you pull away and bite around the mark. Only to do it all over again under there is a change in the skin. The slight puffiness of where it has been sucked on, the discoloration and then the indentions that are so close to breaking the skin that they are bruising as well.Â
Jack looks drunk, his eyes heavy and his chest heaving, so close to just giving in and cumming untouched from the attention of your mouth. âSugar.â He slurs the soft praise. âGoddamn, câmere.â He reaches down and urges you back up his body. âI fucking need to be inside you when I blow my load.âÂ
You nip his hip again and giggle when he moans, your teeth carving the path back up his body.Â
****
âJack?â He doesnât hear him say his name the first time. âEarth to Jack.âÂ
Jack squirms slightly, pulling his collar and covering up the bruises and bitemarks that could be seen and shooting Champ an innocent look. âTraining injury.â He lies, knowing that the man would never believe that for a second.Â
Champagne snorts and shakes his head, turning back to the bar cart with a chuckle. âIâll have to get Ginger to get the nanites to get rid of it for you.â He offers, smirking to himself.Â
âNo.â Jack shakes his head quickly, picking up his whiskey glass to lips to hide his grin. âIâm good.âÂ
#pedro pascal#kinktober#kinktober 2024#absurdthirst kinktober#agent whiskey#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey x you#agent whiskey x f!reader#agent whiskey smut#agent whiskey imagine#agent whiskey fanfiction#jack daniels x f!reader
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private eyes - jack daniels x private investigator!f!reader (18+ MDNI)
this is for @iamasaddie little lady kinky may challenge! congrats on 2.5k! <333 I was paired with Jack / Voyeurism.
banner by: @cafekitsune
tags: voyeurism (reader watches jack), masturbation (m & f), reader is a private investigator, gratuitous descriptions of my fav cowboy stroking his big cock, dub-con a little? reader masturbates in her car but there isn't anyone around so public but private
a/n: this is the first fic I've completed in months. it's short and to the point, idk how i feel about it but it pushed me out of my writing slump! kinda want to do a part 2 for this, what do y'all think đ
wc: ~1.6k
smut below the cut
 âI want you to catch that son of a bitch in the act.â
The visibly scorned woman, Camilla, sitting across from you asks through tears, ones that she hasnât allowed to escape down her cheeks; catching them right at the waterline with an overused tissue.
This isnât the first time a disgruntled, mistreated, or betrayed lover has sought out your services â no shortage of shitty men leaving trails of destruction while they pillage and greedily chase their own interests. Sheâs no different, seeking closure from the broken-off engagement from her now ex-fiancĂ©e, Jack Daniels. The pair had been together for a year, engaged for three months and one day, out of the blue, Jack broke it off. According to her, he didnât give a concrete reason, something vague about being consumed with his job and that âshe deserved a better life than thatâ.Â
Of course you get paid a pretty penny for your work, but you take great pleasure in catching a man in the act. Whether the woman needs proof for divorce settlements, custody battles, or to just have leverage. Whatever the case may be, you find a gratification you donât get anywhere else; the upheaval of a man trying to have his cake and eat it too.Â
The conventionally attractive woman you couldnât pick out of a line-up slides her homemade dossier across the coffee shop table, tacky & sticky from previous patrons. You flip through the information presented to you, taking mental notes as you go. You canât deny the heat that rises up your face as you study the picture of your next target. The deep sable eyes resembling a baby calfâs are staring at you through the glossy photo paper. Heâs sporting a mustache reminiscent of Burt Reynolds that is calling your name. His smirk is laced with a charming cockiness.Â
âHeâs quite the looker, I know. Hell of a lay, too,â her words snap you out of your daydream. Her words feel hollow, his looks are the only attributes sheâs mentioned during the duration of the consultation. You're not getting paid for moral judgements and you remind yourself you donât know the whole story.Â
âWhich is why I want to know who heâs fucking. I know thereâs another woman, or maybe even a guy⊠heâd answer calls in the middle of the night and step into another room and I swear I could hear a womanâs voice on the other end, heâd tell me heâs going on work trips⊠he works at a whiskey distillery, why the hell does he need to go on all these trips?â She explains, putting air quotes around âtripsâ with her dainty, well-manicured hands, âheâd stay late at work a few nights a week, and then it turned into a nightly thing⊠Anyways, you come highly recommended, so Iâm trusting you wonât let me down,â she adds. Youâre not a fan of the passive aggressive, back-handed compliment she gives you, but ultimately you give her an understanding smile as you both rise from the table.Â
âIâll be in touch,â you tell her, as you exit. As cliche as that line is, you love saying it every time.Â
Days of following Jack around have proven to be fruitless. The man has a simple routine: wakes up at six, traipses to the bathroom to begin his morning regimen of a showering, shaving and grooming his beloved mustache, and to conclude, adorns his body in his tight denim jeans, a crisp button-down, a cowboy hat, and boots to match. You hate to admit it, and someone would have to waterboard this information out of you, but the hat is doing something for him.Â
Or you.Â
Whatever.Â
He shops weekly on Wednesdays (he always puts the cart back inside the store, not the cart returns in the parking lot), takes the same route home everyday, watches Jeopardy while he eats dinner â you caught on quickly that he cooks during Wheel of Fortune, it appears he isnât a big fan of Pat and Vanna, dishes promptly following Final Jeopardy and bed by nine. In three weeks Jack hasnât had a single visitor, of any gender, leaves work at five like everyone else, the man isnât adding up to be a cheating womanizer like Camilla had set him out to be. Not to say that he isnât, but youâre not finding any evidence to support that claim. Youâve actually found yourself developing a crush on the man. Heâs undoubtedly handsome, seemingly laid back despite his strict routine, and thereâs something mysterious that lies beneath that youâre itching to unearth.
Youâre parked discreetly across the street from his house. Itâs a nice quiet street, with only two lamps to illuminate the surrounding neighborhoods, allowing you to stay shrouded in the night.Â
Youâre about to call it a night, exhaustion settling deep into your bones, when you notice a lamp turned on in the living room. Fortunately, the window faces the street, making your job that much easier for you. You pick up your binoculars to peer in, adjusting the focus for your prying eyes. Thank the universe he left his blinds open.Â
He sits on the couch with his back facing you. It looks like heâs reaching for the remote, like maybe heâs having trouble sleeping, but when he settles back into the couch, you notice heâs butt ass naked, in all his glory. Even through the binoculars, you can see how big his cock is. Your mouth salivates at the sight, wanting to feel the stretch of him in all your holes.Â
Youâre not supposed to see this. Not at all. Usually in your assignments, you donât get the full X-rated view, just the PG-13 suggestive one, and you are more than grateful for that.Â
But not now.
Youâre getting your own private peep show from the man youâre getting paid to spy on. Youâre feeling like a grade-A pervert right about now but the sight is too glorious to look away. He spits on his hand, and languidly begins stroking his cock. He runs his other hand through his hair, his toned arms flexing with his movements, his chest heaving.Â
It shouldnât turn you on like it does. For one, itâs highly unprofessional. Secondly, heâs unaware heâs got an audience. Morally speaking, itâs definitely not your shining moment. But itâs the hottest thing youâve ever seen, watching him tease and work himself up. You couldnât pry your eyes away if you wanted to.Â
Jackâs not the only one getting worked up; your clit throbs so hard you feel like itâll go numb. Your heartbeat echoes in your ears thump-thump thump-thump. You let out a whine when Jack massages his tip, precum dribbling out like a sweet nectar youâd like to feast on. He continues his slow movements, dragging out his pleasure at a delicious and excruciating pace. Somehow, this makes the whole scene that much hotter; the display of restraint and discipline. You wonder if he does that with his lovers. Teasing, teasing, teasing, giving just enough to drive you insane before slowing almost to a stop.Â
Possessed by desire, you haphazardly look for any lingering people outside before unbuttoning your pants to shove your hand to where it's needed most. You gasp at the cool air hitting your thinly clothed pussy, you can smell your own arousal seeped into your panties and it spurs you on further. You mirror Jackâs pace - teasing your lips with a featherlight touch, inching closer and closer to your needy clit, stopping just shy of it, to tease yourself more. Itâs agonizing in the best way, taking your time like this. Normally, you like efficiency when making yourself come, rarely going the extra mile to turn the pleasure dial up, but this makes you question why youâre ever in a hurry.Â
You reach your clit, going in gentle circles to match Jackâs unhurried pace. You wish you could hear the sounds heâs making, all the grunts and whimpers escaping his plush lips.Â
He speeds up his strokes, now ravenous for his delayed release and so are you. Overtaken by the need to come, you drop the binoculars, letting them fall to the floorboard. Youâre not even watching him anymore, having seen more than enough to commit to your spank bank. With your eyes closed and head pushing into the headrest, your mind is flooded with images of Jack fucking you slow, hard and deep, absolutely destroying your pussy â legs over his shoulders, hitting the spot that makes you scream and cry in euphoria. The image of him spilling into you, filling you up with his come is what tips you over the edge, your body shivers in bliss and you rock against your hand to ride out the high, feeling faint from the intensity.Â
After youâve recovered and fumbled your chance of ever seeing The Pearly Gates, you dare to look back to his house, to find all the lights back off. Itâs a bit of a relief, feeling less shameful of what youâve done now that you canât see him at the moment.Â
You button your pants backup and lean over to retrieve the forgotten binoculars from the floorboard, as your fingers grab them you hear a knock on the window. The sudden rap on the glass makes you flinch, feeling your skeleton attempt to flee from your corporeal body. Your heart drops to your stomach when you see Jack standing outside your car, leaning one forearm against the body so his face is level with yours. Fuck fuck fuck. Youâve been caught. Dizziness and nausea war within you as you roll down the window. You open your mouth to explain the situation, but words never escape your mouth.Â
âYou like watchinâ people donât ya?â he asks, his tone is dark, but not angry. No, itâs something else entirely.Â
âIââ
ââSâalright. Caught onto ya pretty quick. A pretty face like yours ainât hard to miss.â
âIâ iâm sorry, um,â you scramble to find words, any words but Jack interjects again.Â
âYou like watchinâ, but darlinâ I want to know, do ya like beinâ watched?â
#snail trail alert đš#little lady kinky may#iamasaddie game#2.5ksaddies#jack daniels x you#jack daniels x female reader#jack daniels smut#agent whiskey x you#agent whiskey smut#agent whiskey fic#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey#jack daniels x reader#agent jack whiskey daniels#pedrostories#fanfic#smut
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pov: youâre obsessed with your boyfriend
( part 2 )
#this is my camera roll#all original photos by me#i promise#i was theređ#shhhđ€« let me indulge in my delusionsđ§#him in the big ass hat is so agent whiskeyđŠđ€ #the pic with the dog is one of my favorites everđ#i need the to do the puppy interview with pedro asap#iâm starting a petition đ€đ#joel miller#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x y/n#dieter bravo#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller x y/n
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Tender This (21+)
Uncle!Jack Whiskey x Fem!Reader
Summary: You have a bad dream and ask to sleep with your Uncle Jack.
Word Count: 2064
tags: dub-con/non-con somno. thigh grinding. coming in pants. Reader is the aggressor ! nicknames for Reader: baby, angel, niece.
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By the time you opened your eyes, the nightmare was gone from your mind. The foreboding visuals that caused you to feel cornered and terrorized were erased. Unfortunately, though, your body and heart were slower to rid you of the experience. You didnât think twice before hopping out of bed and heading down to your Uncle Jackâs room. You didnât care that all you wore were your cotton pajamas.
You could hear the drone of the TV from the hallway, lights flashing from the crack of his door. Knowing he was still awake was a relief, but it wasnât enough for you to go back to bed by yourself. You rapped your knuckle on his door. He cleared his throat before answering.
âCome in!â he called.
You tip-toed barefoot inside with your shoulders high in your ears. Jack sat up in bed when he saw youâworry evident on his brow. He wore a white t-shirt and thin wire-framed glasses. He grabbed the clicker and turned down the volume on the TV.
âWhatâs wrong, baby?â he asked.
âI had a bad dream,â you pouted.Â
He sat motionless with his mouth openâhis heart nearly beating outside of his chest.
You wrung your hands together. âCan I come sleep with you?â
A few more stunned, heavy breaths before he answered. âIâwell, angelâI meanââ he released awkward chuckles between his stuttering. âI-I donât think youâd have a lot of fun in here with meââ he pointed across at the TV. â--Iâm just watching a-a-a documentary on uh⊠saddles of the old vaqueros from back in the day.â He cleared his throat again and smoothed the thick quilt in his lap.
You glanced to your right at the TV that sat atop his dresser. On screen was an older gentleman in a white sombrero who was smiling and showcasing leather embossing. It took more effort than youâd like to admit to not roll your eyesâbecause of course Uncle Jack would be watching something like that in the middle of the night. You remained undeterred.
âPlease, Uncle Jack?â You attempted the most pathetic look you could muster. âThat dream messed me up. I really donât wanna sleep alone.â
It was almost visceral the way his heart broke for youâbrows all curled into his forehead and his eyes growing big and misty. âO-okay, angel,â he croaked, looking you up and down. âIf itâs that important to ya.â
âMm-hmm,â you nodded and scurried forth. You drew back the quilt, distinctly avoiding the look of nervous dread in his eyes as you climbed into the bed with him. Before he could think to put a pillow between the two of you, you scooted as close as you could and wrapped your arm across his middle.Â
He choked on his breath and placed his hand on your arm. âA-angel, I donât knowââÂ
âPlease, Uncle Jack? It was a really bad dream,â you pleaded with your chin on his chest.Â
Another yank of his tender heartstrings. His glittery eyes bounced between yours as he tried to find the wordsâbut none came out of his pouting lips. He looked away and wiped his mouth with his hand. âO-okay, baby, just uh⊠just for tonight, I guess. Butââ he cleared his throat a third time. â--but letâs try to-to-to watch the program, okay?â He locked his eyes on the TV. He twitched and tensed his jaw and neck. His lips were close enough that you could smell whiskey on his breath. You wondered what he tasted like this late at night.Â
You tugged him closer and pressed as much of your body into his as you couldâfrom your cheek on his chest, to the front of your torso against his side, down to your leg lining up with his. His breathing stuttered, but you ignored it. Instead, you listened to his rapid beating heart. You melted into his strong, steady heat and the scent of his skin. You watched the TV for a while like he asked, and it was actually pretty interesting to see an expert artisan craft a saddle seat out of leather. But really, the most interesting part came when the artisan had to measure and cut the leather pieces for the horn because thatâs when Uncle Jack placed his arm around youâhis large hand finding respite on your shoulder. You instantly released a small whimper and squeezed his middle.
âItâs alright, angel,â he cooedâhis thumb caressing your bare skin. âYouâre safe, now. Just keep on watchin the TV.â
âThank you, Uncle Jack,â you murmuredâdaring to press a quick kiss to his chest before resting your head again.
âO-of course,â he coughed and squirmed, but his hand stayed steady on your shoulder.
You grew weary as the night went on. Your eyes drifting shut. But you could never quite fall back asleepânot with your body this close to your Uncle Jack. Wetness pooled between your legs. Your body burned so badly for him you were aching. You didn't know what to do. You were afraid of scaring him off, but you were patient. You could be patient for a man like Uncle Jack.
Once the credits started rolling, Jack turned off the TV. You felt him shift beneath you, but you refused to budge. âA-angel?,â he whispered. He tapped you lightly on the shoulder. He was trying to wake you up⊠without waking you up. âIâ... shit,â He murmured. He clicked off the lamp on his bedside tableâa soothing darkness blanketing the room. He tried to situate himself a little further down the bed and you did let him moveâbut only a little. You were determined to stay on him. So much so that once he had settled into a comfortable position, you faked a sleepy moan and wrapped your leg on top of his.Â
You could hear him suck air through his teethâbut he didn't push you off or away. In fact, his arm moved from your shoulder down to your waist, rubbing the exposed skin between the hem of your shirt and the waistband of your bottoms. It felt like he was igniting you with his fingers, like each one was a matchstick. You wanted more, but you had to be coy about it.Â
âAngel?â He tried again and you refused to respond.Â
You counted your long, slow breaths, counted the heartbeats you felt in your pussy. You needed to give him time. Let him think it was all happenstance. You waited for as long as you could possibly stand. Then, you shifted again, another sleepy groan and stretch until you were half on top of himâyour crotch on his thigh, your leg between his. His hardness poked against you.
âssshit,â he whispered to himself. The hand that was once on your waist found its way to your shoulder. You couldn't see in the dark, but you knew his mouth was open. You knew he was stumbling over what to do. But he didn't push you away like he should haveâlike he would have if he truly didn't want you there.
It made you crave himâburning up and down your skin. It made you hungry to know that he desired youâthat he wanted you so much that it made him all twisted up inside. That you had the power to falter the boundaries of a man so formidable. The roll of your hips was instinctualâyour body so desperate to relieve itself from the ache, but the taste made you voracious.Â
You rolled again and a whimper forced itself from your lips. You tried to muffle it by nuzzling into his chest.Â
Jack didn't move. He still didn't push you away. He was gonna let you do it, wasn't he? Let himself pretend you were doing this all in your sleep.Â
You pressed your swollen clit against his thigh and pushed upward from your knees, curling your toes, and grinding against him. It felt glorious, but you had to take it slow. No matter how much you really wanted to yank his pants down and ride him like the cowboy he was.Â
And every little brush of your leg against his hard cock made him twitch and hiss. Again and again you thrusted yourselfârolling your entire body against his while he held himself back. He was braced and taking it.Â
â---------
Jack felt drunk. Inebriated. Boozed up. Three sheets to the wind. And it was all because of you. Your desire for him made him dizzy. The way you tucked your chin and looked at him with the sweetest, most docile eyes. Your sugary pouting lips. It felt too good to have you so close and snuggling up to him. He loved knowing that he could protect you and that you wanted him to protect you. It comforted him that you sought him for comfort. That you trusted him enough to surrender yourself and all your worries upon his shoulders. How could he ever deny you? How could he ever say no to your tender affection?
He knew it was wrong. It didnât matter that you werenât blood. It was the principle! He knew his feelings for you were unrefined and not very Kingsman-like, but ⊠you had this way of hypnotizing himâcaptivating every nerve and synapse in his whole got-dang body. All it took was one wayward look from you and Hoo! Buddy ! he wanted to ravish you in an open prairie, by a campfire, underneath the shining eye of the moon. He wanted to buck up into you from underneath, let you ride him like a stud bull til he filled your belly full of his seed. He wanted to lathe and lick your breasts with his tongueâsuck hickeys into your thighs in the shape of the letter J. He wanted to stuff your mouth full of his cock so he could make love to your sweet, darling face.
But âŠ
As it has been mentioned beforeâŠ
These feelings were unrefined and not very Kingsman-like.Â
Jack saw himself as a gentleman. And gentlemen uncles do not bed their nieces.
Yet there you were, grinding against him, moaning and murmuring in your sleep. He knew he should wake you up. He knew he should have made you go back to your own bed. He knew he should have done anything other than what he had done, but⊠he didnât.Â
He stayed as still as he could. His body twitching and stuttering every time you brushed his cock. He tried to angle his hips a bit to cause more friction and it worked for a little whileâbut then you started chasing your high. He could feel it deep down in his gut how much your hazy mind hungered for release. He didnât know what you were dreaming about that would cause you to react in such a way. You were twisting your hips around and moaning, arms wrapped around his middle and your face resting flat on his chest.Â
âUncle JackâŠâ you cried and Jackâs fist flew to this mouth to bite back his groan. âPleaseâŠâ you begged as you rode his thigh with deep languid strokes.Â
Jack didnât want to whip his dick out and make a big olâ mess all over the blankets and sheets and you. But he was feeling pretty goddamn desperate for some relief. He did his best to avoid touching youâlest he wake you up, you poor thing. You were so close! And shit, he was, too! So he reached his hand down and gave his cock a gentle squeeze through the fabric of his sleep pants. Something to ease the ache until he could extricate himself from you and disappear into the bathroom for a few shameful moments. One squeeze wasnât enough, though. Especially once you started whimpering and shaking and meeting the end of your delightful, filthy dream. He couldnât wait any longer. Gentlemanly duties be damned! He gave himself a few quick tugs through his pajamas, squeezing the head of his cock in his big, thick hand. He huffed and puffed before grunting hard through gritted teeth, cursing as quietly as he could while come spurted from his cock and smeared into his sleep clothes. âOh, angel.â He thought, feeling the fabric of his pants cling to him. âYouâre gonna be the death of your olâ Uncle Jack.â
After cleaning himself up and changing, he came back to bed and put a pillow between the two of you. Instead of what he wanted to do, which was spoon you, press his cock between your thighs and grind against your slick. But he couldn't. What he had done was shameful enough as it was. He had to stop. He had to put an end to it all. Not that anything had really happened, ...had it?
He took a deep breath and started listing different types of saddles in his head before eventually falling asleep.
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@xdaddysprincessxx -- I thought this might be a fun one for ya. đđđ
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