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pennyserenade · 3 years ago

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his girl friday

pairing: agent whiskey x female oc , agent whiskey x original female character summary: life continues to beat on for alicia, even despite the change of situation warnings: language, illusions to sex and talk of sex word count: 2.1k+ rating: m ( mature ) author’s note: thanks for following along as i write this. i hope you enjoy this chapter!

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CHAPTER TWO: A DIFFERENT DRUM

The picture-perfect union of stubbornness sits in front of Champ’s desk. One is wearing an angry scowl, and he is carrying the nature of a child who has been irredeemably wounded by words (and likely has been), and the other being passive aggressive in the way she leans her body the exact opposite way of her partner (undeniably the wounded offender herself). If the diamond encrusted swan pens weren’t in front of Champ and the paper work wasn’t neatly and impeccably filled out in Alicia’s neat scrawl, perhaps there might be a form of action to take. Be it as it is, though, everything is in order.

“Jack,” Champ smiles. Jack gives him a grunt of acknowledgment.

“Alicia,” he nods. She replies with a smile not even the best of her acting abilities could convince him was genuine.

“Well, kids, you did—“

Jack stands from his chair. “She’s leaving!” he snaps. “Did you know this?”

Champ looks at Alicia. “What’d we say?”

Jack points at Champ. “I knew it! You did know and you didn’t tell me a damn thing about it.”

She shrugs at Champ while he runs his fingers through his hair. “He was being so damn insufferable on that airplane, Champ. If you’d only been there, you’d have told him too.”

Jack takes the packet of cigarettes out of his jacket and begins to pace the room. “What am I gonna do now?” he says, putting one in his mouth. “She’s my partner!”

“Jack, sit down,” Champ says.

Jack stands in place for a moment. “Tell her, Champ—tell her how damn stupid this is!”

“I’m a grown woman, Jack! No one tells you what to do!” Alicia takes a stand from her chair.

“Oh, goddamnit,” Champ mumbles.

“No, but he’s about to! Archie’s gonna make you into a fine presentable woman, ain’t he?”

“Oh, I oughta slap you, Jack.”

“I wish you would. I’ve been itchin’ to know how well you can hold your own.”

Champ slams his hand down so hard on the desk it thuds as soon it’s connected to the surface. Both Jack and Alicia look, forgetting for a moment the emotion they’re meant to be feeling. The quiet that replaces their voices is every bit worth the pain Champ is feeling now.

“Sit down,” he says, his tone not betraying him. “Act like adults.”

They both sit back in front of him, looking startled, but Champ knows he’s only got minutes, maybe even seconds, before it all fizzles back into the commotion they were causing just before. He breathes out and continues on. “Jack, Alicia, you did good work. Thank you. The Beaufoys are not a project that will be solved in six months' time, but these swans and the information you’ve provided for us about them are a step in the right direction. You both proved your worth in obtaining them.”

Jack leans forward and flicks his ashes in the tray on Champ’s desk. “What are the swans for? I don’t think you told us.”

“They’re pieces of a puzzle, Jack,” Alicia responds. She takes one from the desk and turns it around. Her manicured finger points to a small inscription. “They’ve all got addresses on the back, I just couldn’t make out why.”

“We believe them to be places where they’re running their money through, but we’ll be more certain about that in months to come,” Champ tells them. “Jack, you’ll still want to work on this case?”

Looking pointedly at Alicia, Jack nods his head. “I don’t abandon things.”

“Oh, qué bueno, Jackson, what a good little agent.”

“If you’re gonna start fighting in Spanish, I’m gonna have to request you leave. I can’t sort out something I can’t understand and I sure as hell don’t want to be made to suffer through it for no reason.”

“No worries, Jack doesn’t speak Spanish in front of people if he can help it. It’s beneath him.”

Jack stamps out his cigarette. “You’re on fire today, honey,” he spits out, rising from his chair again. “Here’s a little bit of Spanish for ya, as a parting gift, if you will: Adiós.”

Champ hangs his head and Jack slams the door so hard behind him, the picture on the wall falls down and shatters. Alicia looks apologetic. “Sorry,” she says. “He can be such an…ass sometimes. Pardon my language, but he just makes me so mad!”

Sighing, Champ crosses his fingers together and looks back up. “We’re all going to miss you here at Statesmen, Alicia. Don’t let him know I told you this, but I know he most of all will be feeling the loss of you in the upcoming weeks. Just do me a favor and don’t stay angry at him, will ya? He may be—and pardon my language here—a shit, but it’s all misplaced. I think he’s just angry Archie got there first.”

Alicia laughs. “Don’t be silly, Champ. He’s only being like this because Jack likes to have his cake and eat it too. He doesn’t care about me like that.”

Champ smiles softly. “Perhaps you’re right. You’ve got that womanly intuition, after all.”

She narrows her eyes, but she keeps her smile. “You know I despise that. It’s called sense, Champ. We can all have it.”

“Oh, right, then, sense.”

Alicia grabs her purse from beside her. “Thank you for everything, Champ. Everything I am now is because of your kindness.”

She extends her hand across the desk and he takes it into his. “You were the most graceful agent we ever did have, and I can’t say I’m not sorry to see you go, but I understand sometimes duty calls elsewhere. What you make your occupation next, be it housewife or mother, or whatever you see fit, I know you’ll master that too.”

She smiles. “Thank you, Champ. I better go now before I start getting—oh, what is it that you men say—womanly on you? The tears are minutes from spilling.”

Champ let’s go of her hand with a smile that matches her own on his face. “Just don’t be so harsh on Jack, will you?”

Alicia nods. “I won’t. I’ll be sure to send him an invitation to the wedding.”

It feels wrong that her career as a Statesmen agent would end like this, but after that, she crosses over the broken fragments of glass, and into her new life.

She’d be a liar to admit it didn’t hurt a tad as she walked down the hall, but sometimes even the best sacrifices in life hurt just a little.

TWO MONTHS LATER

It’s Heaven.

The morning air shifts through the sheer drapes surrounding Archie’s half open window, and cool breeze nips at her naked frame as she lays on her back for him. On his knees in front of her, and wearing no clothes himself, Archie looks very much like he could be molded after some God. Alicia is finding it won’t be so hard to be religious in this light, which is good as his mother has been adamant about her conversion to Catholicism.

Archie runs a cool hand down her side, smiling as the goosebumps rise on her skin. “You're beautiful like this. To think in only a few months, you’ll be my wife and I’ll get you like this every day, not just weekends.”

She breathes in as his hand finds her breast. “Oh,” she moans. “That’ll be quite nice.”

Archie leans down and presses his lips to hers, and she opens her thighs to make room for him.

“Your parents would be going out of their minds if they knew all these indecent acts we’re doing before our wedding, Archie,” she whispers. “Even me staying over—your mother would be sure to hate me.”

He laughs against her skin as he rubs his nose against the underside of her jaw. “Oh, I don’t really care what they think, but I’ll be relieved when we’re married because then I can take you out of this apartment for once. Those photographers won’t leave us alone for a second. It’s a miracle they haven’t caught word of our marriage yet.”

Alicia smooths his unruly morning hair behind his ears. “Your parents are very adamant about the public not knowing until they’ve shaped me into the perfect woman for you. They’re very serious people and I think not too many people are interested in not taking them as so.”

He kisses the side of her mouth, and rests his body beside hers. “Does it bother you much? I do know that is all asking a lot, what with your job and all, and I want you happy, so if it is...”

“I don’t mind. I’d do anything if it meant having you as a husband, Archie. I love you.”

He leans his head over hers, ghosting his lips above hers. “I do love when you say that.”

She nods, encouraging him. “I don’t mean to be so indecent so soon, but I do think if you got between my thighs, you might be able to draw a few more of them out of me this morning.”

He kisses her, and she can feel the smile of his lips. “I don’t mind indecent, or crude, or anything that my parents might have you believe their son minds. I like you indecent if this is indecent. I’m thrilled about it.”

She lifts herself up, pressing into his lips. “If you can’t take me out for breakfast in town, the least you can do is make an honest woman of me this morning, Mr. Leach.”

He laughs against her, hand traveling down to pull her knees apart. “Let’s practice for when we’re married, to make it more righteous. You call me Mr. Leach and I’ll call you Mrs. Leach while we do naughty things to each other?”

“Oh, thank God for weekends, Mr. Leach,” Alicia pants out as his hand finds home between her legs.

The morning breeze has faded into the midday breeze by the time Archie and Alicia rise from bed and make themselves presentable to be seen—not that many people do see them. It’s only Archie’s maid, Nora, today, but Nora’s sort of like Archie’s mother: Alicia feels the need to look perfectly innocent in front of her.

“Afternoon, Nora,” Archie hums as they waltz into his kitchen. The coffee sits on the table and Archie fills a cup for them both. “Has anyone called?”

“Your mother, about the wedding.”

Archie looks over at Alicia. They both share a smile.

“Any specifics?”

“Wedding invitations. She wanted to know if Jack Daniels was a real name, and how you could possibly know a man with a name like that.”

Archie’s brow furrows. “I don’t know a man named that.”

“I do,” Alicia speaks up. “Tell her he’s a friend of mine, from work. Like Ginger. Remember Ginger?”

“I remember Ginger but no Jack. I don’t think you told me about him. What’d he do there?”

“Tours, mostly, of the distillery. He’s a charismatic fellow, and I’m sure you’ll like him when you meet him. I don’t know if he’ll make it but it’s important that he does get that invitation.”

“I’ll be sure he does,” he tells her. “After we eat, I’ll call my mother and tell him we do know him.”

“Thank you,” she says.

Grabbing the morning paper, Archie takes a seat at the table. “Nora, will you make us something nice to eat for lunch? We didn’t manage to catch the breakfast hour this morning, so we’re a bit starved.”

“Yes, Archie. Anything in mind?”

Archie looks at Alicia.

“Anything you feel you might like to eat as well, Nora. I’d like to get to know you, if that’s alright, being that you're so important to Archie, and I think meals are a lovely place to get to know one another.”

Archie nods. “Yes, Nora, that does sound well. I’d like that too.”

Alicia feels a tiny bit successful as she watches Nora turn to the fridge door with a smile on her face.

Whatever guilt started eating away at her for not telling Archie the complete truth of her job or Jack, for that matter, ebbs away as the sound of simple grilled cheeses hit the pan.

For a brief moment, she even allows herself to think of him, Jack. She wonders what life looks like for him, what the Beaufoy case is shaping up to be without her there to help him.

If Archie wasn’t such a lovely fellow, she might work up the courage to call and check later, but unfortunately he is, and charming and tall, too.

Whatever might be happening there can’t be half as good as what happened here, this morning, she convinces herself.

#agent whiskey x female oc #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x female oc #jack daniels #agent whiskey #kingsman the golden circle #kingsman fanfic #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal

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demoneyesanddamagedsouls · 4 years ago

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Sparring Partners Masterlist

IN PROGRESS

Pairing: Jack (Whiskey) Daniels x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+ ONLY

Summary: You and Agent Whiskey are long time rivals. As Statesman agents you both have been put up for the same promotion and this mission is your final chance to prove yourself. Have you got what it takes? Or will a certain cowboy get in your way in more ways than one...

Warnings: slow burn (sweet but painful), canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, weapons & hospitals, mutual pining, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, piv sex, fingering, cumplay, language, angst, fluff - these warnings will be updated as I continue * - INDICATES SMUT

|| Writing Masterlist ||

Get added to my Taglist!

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mikeisthricedeceased · 4 years ago

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Pedro Characters

Current ~*~*~*~

On Hold | Active

Ask Prompts & Headcanons Masterlist

You’re My Home (Catfish x Juanita Moreno [OC]) - 18+, fluff, smut, eventual kink and sub!Frankie

AO3 | Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 TBC

Ghost Stories (Mando x OC) - 18+, super slow burn

AO3 | Chapter 1 Chapter 2 TBC

When Hunter Becomes Prey (Mando x Riever [OC]) - 18+, CNC, sub!Din, hunter/prey, knife kink, AU of RieverVerse? - Snippet

AO3 | x Coming soon

Let Me Live / Let Me Die (Joel Miller x Ash [OC]) - 18+, violence, sub!Joel, dark

AO3 | This is Our Life Coming soon

Claiming Strangers (Mando x f!Reader, Omegaverse AU) - 18+, Alpha!reader, omega!Din - moodboard by @spoopyredacted

AO3 | Part 1 Part 2 TBC

This Man (Javier Gutierrez x f!Reader, Sugar Daddy AU) - 18+, Dom!Javi, he’s very bashful and sweet also

AO3 | x

A Few Quiet Moments (Mando x m!Reader) - 18+, sub!Din

AO3 | x

The Artist (Mando x Force sensitive!femReader)

AO3 | x

Liquor and Lawman (Agent Whiskey x Holli Day [OC]) - 18+, smut, kink, fluff, bisexual Agent Switchskey

AO3 | One Two

Big Shot (Maxwell Lord x Bethany Lancaster [OC]) - 18+, smut and kink, sub!Maxwell

AO3 | Part 1 Part 2

WIPs ~*~*~*~

Love’s Cost (Ezra x Reece [OC]) - tall lady, much pining, slow burn, sub!Ezra

Untitled (Marcus Pike x Callie Walker [OC]) - some unrequited pining for a bit, everyone is soft, Star is a cinnamon roll

Bathed in Red (Max Phillips x Caitlin Beck [OC]) - angst, enemies to lovers?, Max is a dick at first, the lady’s a witch! and very shy!

Untitled (Oberyn Martell x Mors Dayne [OC] x Ellaria Sand) - magic, poly, everyone is horny, ~mysterious~, cat?

~*~*~*~

Taglist

~ Mike

#catfish x oc #frankie morales x oc #mando x oc #mandalorian x oc #din djarin x oc #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x male reader #mando x reader #din djarin x reader #Javi Gutierrez x reader #javier Gutierrez x reader #agent whiskey x oc #maxwell lord x oc

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lady-of-glass-and-bone · 4 years ago

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Agent Absinthe

"A jack of all trades is a master of none, but oftentimes better than a master of one."

Pairing: Agent Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels x OFC!Agent Annie 'Absinthe' Goode

Summary: Annie Goode has a deep understanding of weapons. Formerly just a behind the scenes, back-up on the rooftop, expert marksman. The fancy tricks and lies used in the espionage business were never a part of her job. But joining the Statesman means being adept in all areas, being the best. Good thing there's a Jack of all trades willing to help teach her.

Playlist here

Official story moodboard

Agent Absinthe character moodboard

#agent whiskey #agent jack whiskey daniels #jack daniels #agent whiskey x oc agent #original female character #kingsman the golden circle #playlist #duck did it

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galaxyedging · 3 years ago

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Agent Whiskey x nameless female oc

Smut🔞 (oh boy is this smut)

OGA

"Well, howdy cowboy." she muttered to herself. The chatter that she had heard was right. The Statesman agent was very attractive. An aquiline nose and full lips created a stunning profile as he turned, back lit by the bar. He had the long legs, broad shoulders and defined biceps of a swimmer. All wrapped up in a cowboy package.

Tight dark blue jeans with matching denim jacket, a white t-shirt underneath. A cowboy hat and large belt buckle completely the look. As time was crucial, she wasted none in laying her cards out for him. "Are all Statement Agents so good looking?" She asked draping herself over the bar next to him. She didn't miss the approving gleam in his eye as he took her in.

"States what?" he forced a laugh. "I don't know what you are talking about, Sugar, but I gotta say I am glad you're talking to me."

"Cut the bull. Am OGA. I know about your mission. I have intel you are missing so you need to change up your approach."

Another laugh this was one was less forced. Deep and breathy, it made her shiver. "Oh, you're into role play? I'll play along. So what? Am Ethan Hunt, your an agent from some shadowy Government agency? Let me tell you though if my mission is to get that dress off by the end of the night, it is far from impossible." Getting close to the end of her patience, despite finding him charming, she snapped at him. "First of all, definitely more of an August Walker vibe." She gestured to his mustache. "Second of all, the woman you are about to attempt to seduce is a lesbian. The 'husband' is compensated well for his time. We have their financials and his NDA."

"Well...shit." Jack huffed. "The more than one what to peel an orange though." As he attempted to pass her, she blocked him with her hands on his chest. Did he just flex on purpose? "Let me get what you need. You can keep the husband company. Their arrangement is mutually beneficial. She keeps his family from getting suspicious of his 'friendships' with his male colleagues."

Jack didn't have much time to think as his target walked in. "So we're married, new money, visiting from Kentucky. I need a blood sample, retinal scan, fingerprints. This pen contains an aerosol it will spary something to make her compliant while drawing the blood. There's a needle in place of the ball point. She'll also forget everything afterwards. Here." One of his large hands found the small of her back and pulled her in for a kiss. Their closeness allowing him to slip the pen down her cleavage. He pulled away as their targets passed. "You could have just slipped it into my purse." She muttered. "Oh baby, where is the fun in that?" he whispered in her ear.

"Oh, sorry, er...kon-ban-wa. Sorry. My Japanese is just down right awful. Do y'all speak English?" Jack was impressed with how quickly she adopted his accent and engaged the targets.

The doctor they were here for, Noshimuri, smiled tightly. "We do. Most of the staff here do too, if you need any help." Polite but guarded. This could be tricky.

"Am real sorry to bother you. We just wanted our picture taken by this stunning view. I figured who better to capture a moment of two people in love and celebrating their anniversary than another loved up couple?" Noshimuri's eye twitched. That was a good button to push, Jack noticed. Whoever this OGA woman was, she was good.

"I will take your picture." Noshimuri agreed stiffly.

Afterwards Jack thanked them profusely, pouring the southern charm on as thick as he could, he managed to get them to accept a drink and company at their table. After the first bottle was emptied the husband was clearly smitten with Jack. Truth be told she was pretty taken with the cowboy too. His over the top flirting and playing the doting husband was cute. Coupled with the lingering touches he had placed on every part of her skin he could find, she found herself wet for him. With his arm wrapped around her and her tucked into his side she almost missed her opening to get Noshimuri alone. Giving the doctor a moment to reach the bathroom she excused herself. As she opened the outer door to the bathrooms, one of the bodyguards appeared. Obviously not wanting to draw too much attention to himself he let her pass.

Once she was in the bathroom, with Noshimuri, she could see the shadow of the guard hovering outside under the door she had to make this quick. As Noshimuri washed her hands she quietly moved next to her deploying the mist to make her compliant before drawing the blood. Noshimuri's watch covered the puncture mark perfectly. Grabbing her phone from purse she scanned Noshimuri's retina, the doctor even smiled for the camera. All she had to do was wait for the memory loss to take effect. A heavy knock landed on the door.

Returning to the table she gave Jack a subtle nod. With the finger prints on her cellphone from earlier, they had everything they needed. Everything was looking good as they settled back into conversation. Jack lips came to her neck, skimming over the skin there until he reached her ear. "Another body guard just arrived. He's talking to the one from the bathroom. I think we need to get out of here."

"One minute!" she called before moving to the door, locking it. "Darn it. The door is stuck can someone help?"

As long as the bodyguard didn't just kick the door down, she had bought a few minutes. Just as the bodyguard arrived with the manager clutching a bunch of keys, the two women emerged from the bathroom. "Got it! I was turning it the wrong way. I better slow down on the drinks!"

Giggling she pulled him in by his jacket to kiss him before leaning into his ear. "I passed a service elevator back there."

"Fuck." Jack cursed grabbing her hand before throwing the ice bucket at the body guard advancing on them. Pulling her behind him they made it into the elevator just as the newer body guard shot at them. His first couple of shots went wide, luckily she managed to get the door shut before he fired any more. "Shit. This elevator only goes up. There seems to be a storage level and the roof."

Jack leaned over pressing the button for the roof. When she gave him a quizzical look, he winked. "Trust me darling. I never go anywhere without an escape plan. Too many people want a piece of me."

"So what was that plan?" she shouted over the noise of the wind. The roof top was empty with no sign of fire escape.

"Remember when I said it was possible for me to get you out of that dress?"

A few minutes later she was stood in her underwear. Thankfully she had worn a full slip that came came to her mid thigh. Even with it being lace, it afforded her a bit more warmth. Jack finished braiding a rope together with stripes of her once beautiful silk dress. "You're 100% sure about this?"

"Yes. Ginger has never let me down. All you gotta do is hop up and wrap yourself around me. Am sure you can do that." Well, he wasn't wrong, she'd enjoy it too. Wrapping one leg around his narrow waist, she hopped up a little for him to catch her other thigh.

"Well, howdy." Jack smirked as they came face to face. He wrapped the make shift rope around their waists. Gripping her tightly he stepped off the side of the skyscraper. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as they fell for a few moments. She gripped him every hard when his parachute deployed dragging them back towards the sky.

They finally reached the safe house half an hour later. Since it was supposed to be Jack's solo mission it was a tiny room, with one, thankfully double, bed and an ensuite bathroom. Her limbs were heavy from the strain of clinging on for dear life so she decided to take a quick shower. Walking out of the bathroom she noticed Jack had already made himself comfortable. His clothes had been neatly folded then placed on the small chair in the corner. His jacket was draped over the back on it, with his shoes tuck away underneath it. The only thing that wasn't visible was his hat. Until she turned the corner and the bed came into view. Jack was lying on the bed, hands folded behind his head, long legs crossed at his ankles. His hat proudly on display, covering his private parts, the rest of him fully naked.

"Forgive my directness, Sugar, but I figured I'd save us both some time and shuck right down to the cob."

Well he did have a point. They had been dancing around each other all night. Given this one bed situation she had hoped that things would eventually go this way. Why not just get to the point? The dull thud of her towel hitting the floor was followed by a low whistle from Jack.

Crossing the space between them, she crawled up the bed coming to rest between his thighs. Taking his hat she placed it on her own head before giving his mouth watering dick her attention. Jack groaned as she licked a strip up the length of it.

"Shit, Honey, I've been thinking about that pretty mouth all night."

She answered him by slipping her lips, in a tight O-shape, over the tip, taking as much as she could in her mouth before coming back up slowly. Locking eyes with him she dribbled spit on to the head of his cock before spreading it all over with her hand. Jack knew he was done for then. She was strong, smart, beautiful and worked his cock like a pro.

"Fuck!" He growled as she sucked, pumping what she couldn't fit in her mouth with her spit slicked hand. In, what felt like to Jack, no time at all, she worked him to orgasm. "Am gonna.." is all the warning he got out before she took him deeper, swallowing his release. Some dripped out of the corner of her mouth. Jack wasted no time in scooping it up with his tongue and licking it back into her mouth. He groaned at the taste of himself on her sweet lips.

Over the next few months, their agency's agendas had married up on multiple occasions, leading to them teaming up in the field and between the sheets. The latest mission had gone south. There was nothing they could have done to stop it. Bad intel. The local support was a shit show. Even the weather was against them.

By the time they got back to the safe house they were soaked through. Silently, they had stripped their wet clothes. Both showered to rid the chill from their bones. Jack was stoking a fire in small hearth as she poured them drink. The tinkle of the bottle tapping against the glass drew his attention. Her hand was shaking.

"Hey. Hey! Come here."

"I don't want your comfort Jack!"

"The what do you want?"

"I..I don't know I just..." grunting in frustration she slammed her fist into the wall.

"I think I know what you need, Honey." he guided her to the bed, he span her around roughly forcing her face down onto it. His hands yanked down her sweatpants, exposing her from the waist down.

"Jack! What are you doing?!"

"We both know am not doing anything you don't want. You could easily get the upper hand here." They both knew he was right. He couldn't manhandle her if she didn't want it. Still, she felt the need to put up the pretence of a fight. Jack played along, throwing her onto the bed.

"You gonna make me do this the hard way, Sweetheart? Alright then."

Before she knew what was happening he was on top of her. Knees either side of her chest, his ankles hooked over her wrists, pinning them to the bed. The sharp sound of his hand meeting the flesh of her ass rang out.

"Jack!" she half moan, half whined in disbelief.

"You're angry with yourself. You think you did something wrong. You didn't but if you need to be punished, at least let me do it instead of beating yourself up." His breath fanned the dip of her lower back as he spoke, his voice low and enticing.

"Yes." He felt some of the tension leave her body beneath him as she gave her consent.

"Attagirl." Running the whip through his nimble fingers he doubled it and doubled it again. It now resemble a cat o' nine tails, much more suitable for the purpose he had in mind. Still he had to be careful not to hurt her. "Colour?"

"Green." Her reply was instant. His cock twitched in his pants. Of course she knew the colour system. He briefly wondered how many times she'd let a man own her like this. A powerful, brilliant woman relinquishing her control was so fucking sexy to him. So was the sound from her when he whipped her lightly.

"More?" he smoothed his hand over the area, soothing the sting.

"Yes. Please." He could have come right there and then. She said 'please', begged him. He held himself together to land a few more blows to her plump ass. Leaning forward to check her delicate skin, he could see the glisten of her slick gathered between her legs. His resolve crumbled at the sight. Immediately he stretched forward, his hands gripping her thighs to spread them wider, his tongue plunging into her wet hole. Jack had done such a good job getting her all worked up that it didn't take much to have her coming on his tongue.

Jack's chest rumbled with a groan as he pushed his hard length between her ass cheeks. As his balls made contact with her warm flesh, he cock head grazed her soaking folds. Slowly he repeat the motion a few times. "Jack. Faster please. I want you to come." Moving her hand even quicker, she stretched her legs out straight. Her ass gripped him tighter as he leant forward gripping the back of her thighs, bracing himself before working his cock even faster between her cheeks. The tease of his cock on her folds was too much for her. Crying out his name she came. Riding out her orgasm she muttered his name into the pillow over and over. Swiftly, she removed her hand from underneath her, just in time to save if from being crushed into the mattress as Jack sped up. His movements bouncing them both against the bed.

"Fuck. You came so easy for me. Is that all you needed? A real man to take control of you?" Jack's definition of a real man, when it came to women, was one who respects them. Manners maketh man after all. Tonight he needed to bend that rule, in a way. He still respected her. Worshipped her, if the truth be told. Tonight though she needed him to be in control. Something told him she didn't want him to be polite about it either.

"Look at you. The pretty pussy still all excited. Do you need to come again, Sugar?" Before she could answer he brought his whip back down on her ass. The 'yes' that left her lips came out as a cry. "Well go ahead." His ankles left her hands, he rose up a little to allow her to move. When she didn't he slapped the whip against her ass again. "I want you to touch yourself. I want to see what you do when you're alone." Jack stopped himself for adding 'and thinking about me'. It was more that he could hope for that she thought about him in between missions. Using the slight space her gave her, she snaked her hand between her body and the bed. Jack felt it when she found her target. The shuddering breath she let out gave him goosebumps. His cock throbbed as he got to work freeing it from his jeans, whip abandoned by the bed. Gripping her knees he spread her legs wider. The sight before him almost made him come, again. She was so wet. It filled his senses. The scent of her arousal musty and sweet. The squelch of her around his fingers as he dipped them inside of her. The gush of her fluids over his hand. The shine of his fingers before he gave in and licked them. Savouring her sweet taste he restrained himself from licking his hand clean. There was a reason he was collecting her juices.

"Fuck, Baby." he moaned as her lubed up his cock with her cum. Hips moving instinctively towards his fist. After a moment he calmed himself enough to get back to the mission he had given himself. "Ol' Jack gets you so worked up you can't help but touch yourself in front of him? Desperate little thing. I bet you'd even let me use you to get off, wouldn't you? I bet you'd even enjoy it. Dirty girl." Lowering his narrow hips to the curve of ass, he waited for her consent. "Yes Jack. God, I want you to use me." She frantically babbled moving her fingers faster on her clit.

"Fuck, Darling. Always so..so...fucking happy to be paired up with you. I always hope you'll like me touch you...like this. So fucking perfect. Always....so good for me. Always make....me come so fucking hard! Shit, am gonna..." The groan that left him as he came stretched out as he worked himself until he was soft. Fuck, speaking of soft, what had she done to him. He was supposed to in control not rambling about how he felt for her.

"I better go get cleaned up." Jack practically jumped out of the bed, not want to sit and stew in his confession.

"Jack..?" He winced at her call. "...thank you."

"You're welcome darlin'." He drawled before disappearing in the bathroom.

"Damn, it's just not my day. Well, if you do find yourself wanting for company, you could give me a call." He held out a business card between two long, thick fingers of his large hand. After a moments hesitation she took the card. Jack arrived back just in time to scowl at the man before picking her coat up and helping her put it on.

The next few missions went well, including tonight's one. That's why Jack's behaviour was so confusing to her. They'd had to pose as a couple to do some surveillance. Nothing they hadn't done before. Just like the first night they'd met and it only got easier with time. They didn't even leave the hotel bar, they hung out, snapped their pictures got ready to leave. Before they did, Jack excused himself to go to the bathroom. A few moments after he left a man approached her. "Excuse me? Miss?" Turing in her seat, she took him in. He was at least 6ft tall, broad shoulders, slim build. His dark hair was slicked back, his chiselled jaw covered stubble, both his hair and beard were peppered with greys. He was handsome but the way he carried himself made him even more attractive. Self assured, confident. He reminded her of Jack. "Forgive my interruption. I just saw a beautiful woman sitting by herself and thought about what a shame that was." He drawled in a heavy Texan accent.

"You don't need to be forgiven. I think it's sweet. I am not alone though."

When they got back to their hotel room, the honeymoon suite, for their newly married cover IDs, Jack had continued to be as quite as a church mouse. She tired to talk to him a couple of times, he just gave a short answer then moved off to do something else away from her. He was fixing a drink when the lasso dropped over his head, it tightened around his chest. In shock he span to face her.

"What? You think the city girl can't use a lasso?"

Jack grabbed the slack of the lasso with both hands. Using his body weight he twirled on the spot, pulling her to him. Reaching him she quickly bound his hands.

"Now are you going to tell me what's up or do I have to force it out of you?"

A laugh punched out of him, his tongue wet his lips. "Do what you have to, Darlin'."

"Fine." Looking up at him she dropped to her knees. Running the lasso down his body she tied his ankles together. Beginning to stand up, she stopped about half way. Pressing her shoulder into his waist, she pulled his arm to bend him forward.

"Now, just hold on!" His tone was panicked as he couldn't save himself from being tossed over her shoulder. She carried him to the bed, dumping him unceremoniously on it.

Gripping his face she asked again "Are you going to tell me?"

He wrenched his head out of her grip, set his jaw in defiance.

"Colour?" she murmured against neck as she kisses down it.

"Green all the way, Babygirl."

Smiling she lifted herself off of him, retreating to the bathroom. When she came back into view, a short silk robe loosely covered her naked body. Buttons flew off in all directions as she ripped his shirt open. Climbing on the bed she moved to straddle his face. Jack held his tongue out ready to taste her sweetness. He groaned in disappointment when she sat back on his chest instead. Slowly she ran her fingers along the lapel of her robe, when she reached her breast she slid them beneath the fabric to brush her nipple. Jack watched as her whole hand disappeared under the fabric, kneading the flesh there. A moan melted into a sign on her lips. Her other hand came up, pushed the thin fabric off her shoulder exposing her other breast. The same hand came down to cup it, she caressed it until her nipple pebbled. Jack had grown painfully hard. He thought about telling her what was wrong just so he could feel the relief of the sheath of her cunt. Fuck, if he wasn't enjoying this though. His own private show. Reaching into her pocket she produced a small bottle of lube. The scent of cherries filled his nostrils. His dick twitched at the scent memory. Her, bare on a rug by the fire, ass in the air as he filled it with his cock. His come dripping out of her puckered hole.

"Fuck." He growled as she continued to massage her breast with the lube. He could feel her wetness against his chest now.

"Colour?" She purred at him.

"Green." He gritted out.

With a saccharine smile, she trailed her fingers down to her mound before pressing them into her folds. She moaned in relief at the pressure on her clit. Pulling her fingers away she smeared Jack's lips with her excitement. He licked them hungrily, head chasing her fingers as she withdrew her hand.

"You wanna another taste, Baby?" she asked.

"You know I do." He wriggled underneath her trying to nudge her into sitting on his face.

"Ah, ah, ah!" she chastised, lifting up to hover over his face. "You only get a taste if you tell me."

Parting herself for him to see she circled her clit. Jack was transfixed by the glimmer of the fluids caught in the dusting of hair around her pussy. His cock was throbbing now. He longed to lick her clean, savour every drop of her heavenly taste. Her fingers sped up, her moans increased. Jack couldn't stand the thought of her coming without a part of him buried deep inside her.

"I was jealous." he snapped.

Panting she stilled. "What?"

"Of the guy at the bar."

"Jealous, huh?" shakily she stood. Untying the lasso from his feet she retied his hands above his head. Roughly she undid his pants, pulling them down off his hips. His cock stood proudly.

They moaned in tandem as she sunk down on him. Still teasing him, she only just took him into her warmth.

"Jealous? Why were you jealous of him? He just wanted to fuck me. You're the one that actually gets to." Slowly, she lowered herself, taking him deeper. "You're the one that gets to fill this tight little cunt. Gets to feel it grip your big, fat cock."

"Oh, fuck!" He grunted as she squeezed him inside of her.

Forgetting her teasing for a moment she bounced up and down on him, gasping at he hit the right spot. "No man has ever had me in all the ways you have. No man has made me feel the way you do. You don't have to be jealous." Picking up the pace she started to ride him in earnest. He pressed his head back into the mattress exposing his neck to her. She couldn't resist alternating kisses and bites up it. In this new position he was able to thrust up into her.

"But he didn't know that. Didn't know that you're..." he let the sentence dangle.

The next morning Jack awoke to the sound of a message from Champ. Every message he got from him in the last few days he wondered if this was it, his last mission for Statesman. Whether this whole thing with Poppy went well or not he wouldn't be able to face them afterwards, knowing what he was a part of. He knew he was doing the right thing but he doubted they would see it like that. He had to avenge his sweetheart and son. He had to make the world safer for the woman lying next to him. Who knows, maybe he could convince her to retire. They could get a little ranch. Live a peaceful life. Quietly he got dressed, resisting the urge to wake her, he kiss her forehead before leaving her a note.

"I'm what?" She searched his eyes as the moved together in sync, meeting each other's thrusts.

"You mean he didn't know who this pussy belongs too?" His thrust faltered, he was afraid he'd come all too soon.

"He didn't know that this is your pussy." Her hips sped up, she wanted to cover him in her come, to claim him. "Didn't know that it was made for you. Made to take your perfect cock. This pussy is yours, all yours Jack..." The sounds filling the room were obscene. The slap of skin on skin. The unholy moans. "....all yours. Fuck. I'm all...Jack!" She screamed as she came, her eyes rolling back in her head. She had never felt anything like it before, a build of pressure that exploded into pure pleasure.

"Yes, Sweetheart, just like that. Fucking squirting all over my cock. Fuck!" Jack came inside her, she barely felt it amongst her own fluids.

Everything passed in a blur for a while after that. Jack had broken free, sat her pliant body down at the top of the bed. He lay between her legs, his tongue had cleaned every inch of his skin. It rolled inside of her, pressing and prodding until she came again. He swallowed his own release as he drank from her. In her blissed out state she could barely move. She sat slumped, watching his pert ass bounce up and down as he ground his cock between his body and the mattress while he sucked her clit until they both came again.

Eventually, he ran them both a bath. Cleaned her gently and soothed her overworked muscles. He towelled her off, kissing, licking, biting her skin as he went. Once they were dry, he slipped them both into bed. Exhaustion overtook them, as the fell asleep in each others arms.

The sound of the door closing woke her. For a moment she let herself feel disappointed, until she noticed the note in Jack's sprawling handwriting.

"See you on the next mission. Stay safe. Love Jack."

Tags @kirsteng42 @babydarkstar @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #agent whiskey #jack whiskey daniels #kingsman 2 #agent whiskey smut #jack daniels smut

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just-here-for-the-moment · 4 years ago

Text

Whiskey’s Bad Girl (Part 1 of the “Whiskey’s Bad Girl” mini-series)

Just something I put together on whim for my @quica-quica-quica 😘

Part 1, Whiskey’s Bad Girl | Part 2, Whiskey’s Good Girl | Part 3, Whiskey’s Best Girl

Word count: 870+

Rating: explicit, 18+ only

Outline: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x “You” (OC cis/het female reader, “blank canvas”/no physical description/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: consensual non-consent/CNC; dom/sub dynamics; use of “Sir” by Reader; demeaning/degrading language from Whiskey directed at reader (use of “girl”/”girlie” as nickname; use of “good girl”/”bad girl”); mature and vulgar language; open palm spanking on bottom/F receiving; mentions of lingerie/thong/bra; mentions of makeup/mascara/red lipstick; mentions of black high heels; pinching on thigh/F receiving; one instance of hands on back of neck/F receiving; fingering/F receiving; no aftercare scene

Whiskey hissed through clenched teeth as his hand squeezed and massaged your ass. You were dizzy from anticipation, turned face down over his strong denim-clad thighs where he sat on the edge of the bed.

One of his broad, warm hands was clasped around the back of your neck while the other roamed your ass. He delved a finger between your buttocks to stroke at the red lace thong nestled there.

His voice was as dark and warm as the whiskey in the belt buckle flask that was digging into your hip. “Now why are you dressed so dirty? I thought you were my good girl, I thought we talked about you behavin’ yourself today.”

You whined and kicked your ankles rapidly as his finger found your clit through the lace. You sucked in a lungful of air and then yelped as his hand came down on your buttocks, first left and then right in rapid succession.

“Oh!” was all you could manage to say.

“You better explain yourself, girlie, or I’m gonna have to dole out more spankings. You gonna answer me?”

“I did behave!” Your voice was more petulant than you had intended.

“Oh, no you didn’t!” His hand landed again, hard, leaving a sting behind. He flattened his palm against the spot and just held the warmth of it there, making you shiver.

“You misbehaved.” His tone was so thoroughly disappointed that you almost forgot this was a game, a mutually-agreeable play fiction that brought you both satisfaction. You actually felt a little bad.

“Oh I’m so sorry! I won’t ever do it again. Please, Jack! I’ll be good.”

“Good girls don’t dress like that, darlin’. There’s no way that you can be good if you’re dressed-” smack

“Like-” smack!

“That.” SMACK!

You wiggled and howled, a breathy “Ohhhhh!” your only answer as his warm hand caressed your sensitive skin.

“Now how many do you think you deserve for those sinful black high heels, girl?”

“Ohhh…”

“I asked you a question.” He pinched the back of your thigh as a warning. “Answer me.”

“Four.”

“Well that sounds fair to me. Count ‘em out, loud and clear, darlin’.”

Whiskey brought his hand down on your left buttock again.

“One!”

“Good girl.” Whiskey was spreading out the spankings across your entire ass, trying to be firm without overusing one area, but now he had spanked you enough times that he was going to have to overlap. He took you through three more rounds, not increasing the impact.

He paused, rubbing two fingers through the lace against your labia, feeling how swollen and damp you were with anticipation.

“Girl, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were gettin’ turned on by your punishment, instead of learning your lesson.”

“Oh, no…” you breathed. “No, I’m definitely learning my lesson, Sir.”

“And how many do you think you deserve for that red lipstick. Hmm?”

“One.”

Whiskey’s voice went dark again. “No.”

“Three, sir?”

“That’s more like it. Count for me, I know you can do it, girlie.” smack!

You heard your voice getting higher as you counted. “One… two… three!” You practically squeaked on the last number.

“And how many for that sexy red lace thong and the matching bra, young lady?”

“Five?”

“I agree.”

His hand came down on your right buttock and you started to haze out, feeling so buzzy and good that you forgot to count. Whiskey pinched the back of your thigh one more time.

“Uh-oh. Someone forgot to count. Now we gotta start all over.” His voice went silky, “And my hand’s gettin’ tired, darlin’. Looks like we’ll have to switch to the paddle.”

“Noooo…” you moaned.

“Oh yes.” He took his hand off the back of your neck and stroked a languid line up and down your spine. “Unless that’s a safe word I hear, young lady?”

“No, sir!”

“Alright. You stay here, and don’t move a muscle while I grab that paddle.” Whiskey flipped you off his lap and you landed flat on your belly on the bed, moaning with pleasure into the covers. You heard him open the drawer and grab the small leather paddle, then you felt the mattress curve beside you as he kneeled near your hips.

“You stay face down and think about what you’ve done.” Whiskey smacked the flat of the paddle against one of his palms and you moaned again.

“I think we need to start all over with the high heels, and this time I’ll add a smack to each offense for tirin’ me out like you did, you bad girl.” You felt him massage and squeeze your buttocks, soothing you before the next phase of punishment.

“Now, that’s gonna be five for the high heels, four for that red lipstick, and six for the bra and panties. Can you count to fifteen for me?”

“Yes, sir!” Your voice was slightly muffled by the covers, but your enthusiastic nodding told him you were on board.

“Alright, girlie. Count ‘em all out for me and then I’ll make you come so hard you scream.” He chuckled, his voice buttery and dark like his chocolate eyes.

“I can’t tell if you want to be my good girl or my bad girl, but we’re about to find out.”

--- Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels character masterlist Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

The only tag list I have: @quica-quica-quica

@anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul

@kesskirata @honeymandos @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @anxiousandboujee @cevvie @sherala007 @writeforfandoms @libellule2001 @deadhumourist @mandoalorian @eri16

#agent jack whiskey daniels #agent jack whiskey daniels x you #agent jack whiskey daniels x reader #jack whiskey daniels #jack whiskey daniels x you #jack whiskey daniels x reader #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey fic #agent whiskey fanfic #agent whiskey fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #pedro stories

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agentwhiskeysdarlin · 4 years ago

Text

The Kiss

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x female!OC (written in second person)

Rating:NC-17

Warnings: lots of sexual tension, use of a knife, slight violence, sexy times at the end, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), Jack being himself cause that comes with a warning, I think that’s all

Word Count: 2,606

Author’s Note: Welp I am still alive and do remember how to write! Its been so long and I am so sorry about that! I hope to get back to posting more regularly and catching up on request and doing a few new things soon. Cross your fingers, manifest, pray, whatever you do I need all the help I can get! I hope you all enjoy this little fic with the cowboy! Feedback is always always welcome and encouraged! Happy Valentine’s Day y’all!! As always a big thank you to @clint-aww-no-barton and my Jate’kara clan both for emotional support and putting up with my ass and my meltdowns

ao3 link for story

“Ginger I don’t know about this.”

Your voice held a slight tremble which made you curse yourself mentally. You looked over yourself in the mirror before letting your gaze fall on the woman behind you.

“Henley you look absolutely incredible. Jack won’t know what hit him. Plus this is honestly a very calm mission for it to be your first,” she gave you a smirk as she finished the last of the lace up on the back of the dress.

It was a breath-taking dress. It was a deep red and it had a beautiful skirt with a slit up to about your mid thigh just enough not to show off too much and a corset top that had a heart shaped neckline which was super fitting for the occasion.

Statesman, a secret agency you worked for had learned of a couple selling Top Secret government information. They were using art of all things as a front to do so and tonight they were holding a large gala at the capital as a celebration of the day. Valentine’s Day and the art was all to be focused around love. Statesman finest senior agent, Agent Whiskey, or Jack was set to take the couple down but him showing up alone to an event such as this one was far too risky so here you were. You worked tech along with Ginger and one of the two women who held jobs at Statesman. You never minded a dress and heels, something Ginger curled her nose up at, plus you had all the proper training so you accepted the offer to hang off Jack’s arm.

That thought alone was what made you tremble. Not the mission in itself. Not the knife that sat cool against your thigh. No it was pretending to be Jack’s girlfriend for the night. You wanted so badly for it not to be pretend.

“Henley?! You ready?”

Ginger’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you turned to her and gave her a nod.

“I’m ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Hey you never know this may lead to something,” Ginger finished the sentence in a sing song voice and you felt the small hope blossom in your gut.

You had already promised yourself you wouldn’t get your hopes too high but with every single step you took down the hall to the conference room it seems to grow. You pushed the door open and walked into the room. Champ, Tequila and Jack all stood around, their heads turning your way and all of them wore a look of pure shock. Tequila let out a whistle before smirking and glancing at Jack. He stood there his eyes raking over you several times before they met yours. The two of you shared a look that could only be sexual tension.

“What? The senior agent doesn’t have a line for once?” You smirked as you walked closer to Jack.

A crooked smirk spread across his face and he took your hand, kissed it and then twirled you around.

“I have to say darlin’ you are the first woman to ever render me speechless,” you couldn’t help the blush that rose on your face.

“You two better get going,” Ginger spoke as she glanced from her tablet to the tv in the room.

“We will follow you and be at the rendezvous point just in case you need backup. Get them in custody and get them back here,” Champ gave you both a nod which you returned.

“We got this boss. You ready darlin’?” Jack held his arm out for you and you took it.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you gave him a nervous smile and the two of you headed out of headquarters.

Your nerves had built up to an almost shaking manner by the time Jack and yourself walked into the building. There were more people than you thought there would be, couples bustling about and Jack’s cologne was starting to make you dizzy. You had to focus. There was a job to do and you had to push your feelings for the man on your arm aside.

“I think with all these people it’s going to make this a lot easier on us,” Jack whispered in your ear.

“I sure hope you are right.”

The two of you wondered around glancing at the art that scattered the walls. People talked about details on the artist and their work, champagne in their hands. You glanced around catching the sight of the best dressed couple in the whole place and something in your gut knew. You gave Jack a small nudge and nodded your head over in their direction.

“That has to be them,” you whispered as you looked up meeting his eyes for the first time that night.

“You ready to do this darlin’?”

You gave Jack a simple nod and a smirk to lift your confidence. As you walked away you felt Jack’s hand on your wrist stopping you in your tracks before pulling you to him and wrapping his hand around the back of your neck. His lips crashed against yours and your shock only lasted seconds before you kissed him back. The entire world around you fell away and so did your trembling nerves. When he pulled apart the two of you seemed to share the same tension filled look as you did earlier in the conference room before you broke off and went your separate ways. You glided now, with your head held high as you stepped up the stairs. You knew that the room they were secretly meeting clients in was mere steps from the stairs and you knew it would draw the woman’s attention to follow you. You sent your senses into overdrive feeling another presence behind you and hearing the sound of heels trying to be quiet.

“What are you doing up here?” Her voice was sticky sweet with an edge to it.

You spun around with a smile to match. The next few moments seemed to move in slow motion but all so fast.

“Oh just looking for that room there,” you pointed with a smirk as the both of you seemed to break into action.

She was too slow for you and the second she charged at you, you dodged before slamming her against the nearest wall your knife just inches from your throat and her body pinning her to wall.

“Selling Top Secret government information will get all the right peoples attention honey. You only thought ya’ll were being slick, hate to break it to you but you ain’t,” you spun her around spitting the words as you took at the handcuffs that had been rested by your knife and slamming them shut around her wrist.

You walked her down the stairs and saw that the room was a bit of a mess and her partner was lassoed on the ground seething in anger. Jack walked to you with a smirk of pride on his face. He jerked the man up and the two of you started to walk out of the place. Jack tipped his hat at a few people in the room with apologies.

“Well done darlin’.”

“Thank you Jack. I had such a rush I didn’t even hear all that happening. I wouldn’t expect any less from you though,” you smirked throwing him a wink.

You loaded up the couple, blind folding them and then heading back to Statesman headquarters. The debriefing was short and simple. You could finally breathe again or so you thought.

“I don’t think we should let such a dress go to waste. Let me take you somewhere,” Jack spoke as he leaned on the table looking down at you.

“Well then let’s go cowboy,” you reached out your hand and he took it with a smile.

The restaurant was probably the nicest you had ever been in. Even in the dress you still felt like you didn’t belong. A piano player skillfully played on a small stage not far from your table but it was low enough that Jack and yourself could carry on a decent conversation. The two of you discussed your side of things during the mission, laughing in all the right places and took bites of food in between. Jack took the last bite of his food and he gave you this look for a moment that you caught. You raised your eyebrows at him which soon gathered together in confusion when he stood up.

“May I have this dance darlin’?”

“Jack people will stare.”

“As they should you are the most beautiful woman in the room, hell in the world,” a smirk crossed his features and you blushed.

You took his hand and he pulled you to the empty place next to the stage. He pulled you close and began to sway with you. Your eyes met with his and the two of you shared that look once again.

“What was that all about?” You suddenly asked.

“Might need to refresh my memory darlin’. I ain't got a clue what you are talking about,” the smirk on his face told you differently but you rolled your eyes and blushed a deep red again.

“The kiss back at the gala. What was that?”

“Darlin’ I think we both know the answer to that,” he pulled you closer his forehead touching yours.

“I need to know for sure Jack. I’ve wanted this for far too long and I-.”

His lips were on your suddenly but this kiss was different. It held a different hunger but it was softer, more gentle. When he pulled away you couldn't help but let out a whimper you wondered if he could hear.

“I’ve wanted this for far too long too darlin’ and if you’ll have me I would want nothing more.”

The smile that spread across your face could have lit the entire world up.

“Of course I’ll have you Jack.”

The two fo you shared another quick kiss full of laughter and smiles as the song finished up.

“Why don’t we get out of here and head back to my place,” Jack whispered in your ear and you simply gave him a nod.

You stopped by the table, Jack leaving a large enough amount of money to cover both the bill and the tip and the two of you practically ran out of the building.

Hands were everywhere as you both struggled into the door of Jack’s home. You couldn't even make yourself stop long enough to look around. All that mattered in this moment was the man who’s lips were attached to yours. Jack suddenly reached down and picked you up from under your knees and you let out a giggle as he did before reattaching your lips to his. You threw his cowboy hat off and discarded it somewhere along the way to the bedroom before lacing your fingers into his hair. It earned a grunt from him before he deepened the kiss. You felt soft sheets suddenly as Jack laid you down across his bed. He hovered over you finally detaching himself from you. Both of you panted with swollen lips for only a few seconds before Jack’s lips began to pepper across your skin. He left a trail of them across every last bit of visible skin before he dropped to his knees over the edge of the bed. You sat up, sitting back on your hands to watch him. He removed your heels slowly as he kissed along your legs you pulling you bottom lip in between your teeth at the sight. His lips made their way up your legs alternating between the two and moving your dress when need be until he came upon where your knife still sat strapped to your thigh. He threw you a smirk before his fingers brushed across your skin to unfasten it and remove it carefully. Then his lips followed causing you to let out the first moan of the night. He eyed your clothed center before moving your panties aside and without much more of a warning dove in. You jumped and let out a gasp that feel into a moan before grasping at his brown locks and pulling at them. His hand snaked up and pushed lightly on your stomach to make you lie down before his arms wrapped around your thighs. You were a mess at this mans mercy and my god had you dreamed about this too many times to count. For a few seconds you almost thought that’s all this was, a dream. That was until your first orgasm rocked through you and you were thankful for Jack’s arms or you might had suffocated him between them. He came up smiling and licking his lips. You pulled him up and kissed him again moaning when you tasted yourself.

“Jack I want you now,” you almost whimpered in desperation.

“Oh darlin’ I know. I want you too. First gotta get you out of this dress,” you couldn't help the laugh as he pulled you up.

You spun around for him and he gently started to unlace your dress, his lips falling along your shoulder and what was exposed of your back and neck as he went. You let your eyes flutter closed and took in the moment you were in and how real it finally felt. This was happening and you couldn't believe it but it was. Finally the dress pooled at your feet and you turned to help Jack out of his clothes letting them join yours on the floor. The two of you fell back into bed finally burning skin on burning skin.

“Jack please,” you whined again giving him a begging look.

“I got you darlin’,” he kissed you on the nose before he lined himself up with you.

He buried himself inside of you and it was the most wonderful feeling you had ever felt. The two of you seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces so perfect and carved out just for one another. He moved first at a slow pace before you were begging for more. Your nails making soft scratches along his back as he rocked into you. His lips left marks in places only the two fo you would know about.

“Faster Jack please,” you moaned out loudly.

He obliged moving his hips quicker and harder. You were so close again and you grasped at him like a lifesaver. Your head flew back and without warning you let go. Your pussy squeezed around him and your entire body shook. Jack was soon behind you burying his head into your neck as he moaned and whimpered. He kept a slow pace until the both of you came down. He pulled out of you and rolled over pulling you with him. He held you there, both of you panting before it seemed the two of you let out a smile and looked at each other.

“That was…”

“Amazing,” you finished his sentence in hopes you were correct.

“It was better than that. Everything I have always thought it would be and more.”

“Wait you have thought about us together?” You sat up and looked down at him.

“Well hell yeah darlin’ of course I have.”

The smile that spread across your face almost hurt but you couldn't seem to care. He pulled you back to him the two of you becoming intertwined in each other. He laid a kiss sweetly on your forehead and you closed your eyes. In that moment you finally felt safe and loved and you never wanted that feeling to end.

Tagged: @jimmythegirl @arcadianempress @discogrrl @immundusspiritu @someplace-darker @thisis-theway @ohpedromypedros-main @scribbledghost @on-the-razor-crest @fioccodineveautunnale @spookyold-saintjm @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @princess-and-pedro @phoenixhalliwell @littlevodka @all-hallows-evie @mack4676 @perropascal @prettyboyskywalker

#jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey #agent whiskey fic #agent whiskey smut #pedro pascal #jack whiskey daniels fic #jack whiskey daniels smut

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kikis-writing-world · 4 years ago

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First, Time

Summary: Agent Whiskey meets an aspiring Statesman Agent.

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Female OC (Future Agent Brandy)

Word Count: >1500

Rating/Warnings: PG, but overall SFW - Whiskey has some dirty thoughts.

Author’s Note: I Have an idea in my head for a Statesman OC, Agent Brandy. Lots of random head canons and blips in her story have come to me, but honestly I thought they’d just live in my head. Well turns out, as I struggled with any other WIPs, this came so easily to me, that I think Agent Brandy is begging to be let out. I hope you enjoy?

Agent Whiskey was strolling through the secure lab floor at the Statesmen Distillery, having just finished an exercise to calibrate his electric lasso and whip. The test had gone off without a hitch and resulted in readings that could only serve to improve future versions of his beloved weapons - not to mention he got to show off his inimitable skills which always put him in a good mood. It was already a successful morning when he saw the woman step off the elevator.

He slowed his gait, taking the time to drink her in before she noticed him. Her brown hair cascaded over her shoulders in an easy wave, reminding him of summer days spent on the beach. A white tee shirt was covered by a brown, long vest that framed her - deliciously supply, if he did say so himself - chest. Her blue jeans looked to be painted on, and the only thing he wanted to know more than how she’d poured herself into them, was what he’d have to do to get her out of them. He watched as she glanced left and right nervously, the plan of swooping in as her hero quickly forming in his head.

“Now I don’t know who you’re lookin’ for Sunshine, but I sure hope I can help.” He drawled as he saddled up to her with a charming grin.

Her eyes widened, turning to fully face him. Her long eyelashes fluttered slightly under his attention as her luscious lips parted in surprise. “Oh my word, are you- Are you Agent Whiskey?”

He preened under her attention, taking off his hat and holding it to his chest. “Why yes, yes I am.” He held his hand out for her, which she took and shook in a hurry.

“Wow, it’s an honor to meet you, Sir.” She gushed. He let her shake his hand for a moment before he ceased the motion by bringing the back of her hand up to his lips. He watched with a gleam in his eye as she flushed, those eyelashes fluttering all over again.

“Pleasure’s all mine, I promise you that.” His voice dripped with honey as his lips grazed against the back of her hand. “But you have me at a disadvantage, darlin’. What would your name be?” He asked as he gently let her hand fall, placing his hat back atop his head.

“Oh, uh… Well, actually I’m an Agent in training.” She smiled proudly. “I’d tell you, but hopefully in a few more weeks that won't be my name at all.” She giggled, brushing her hair back behind her ear.

“Well then I guess I’ll just have to keep callin’ you Sunshine, cause I’ll be damned if you didn’t brighten my day.” He was laying it on thick, but she sure was eating it up with a blush and another giggle.

“I should go…” She bit her lip, taking a small step away from him.

“I wouldn’t want to keep you. You need to be gettin’ top marks so I can keep seein’ that pretty smile ‘round here.”

“I’ll do my best,” she promised with a smile, starting to walk away backwards so she could keep her eyes trained on his form. “Thank you for your valuable time, Agent Whiskey.”

“Anything for you, Sunshine.” He winked just in time before she turned down the hallway. He leaned against the wall as he watched her go, eyes glued to her ass.

“Hate to see her go,” he mumbled to himself with a smirk, not finishing the saying out loud. Once she was out of sight, he carried on to his office to continue with his day. Thoughts of Sunshine, as he had nicknamed her, popped into his head periodically throughout the day. Remembering the way she would bat her eyelashes under his attentions, or how silky her hair looked as it moved. He wanted to find out for himself if it felt as soft as it looked. He’d nearly made it through the day - losing more time than he’d like to admit thinking of her - when Champ summoned him to his office.

“Agent Whiskey,” Champ greeted with a nod and tight grin. “Drink?”

“I’ll take whatever you’re havin’.” He answered easily, sitting in the chair across Champ’s desk. Champ nodded cordially, turning to his bar to pour them each a glass of Statesmen Whiskey.

“Much obliged,” Whiskey thanked as he was handed the tumbler. “Although I have to guess you didn’t call me in here just to share a drink.”

Champ sipped the amber liquid, a soft hum of pleasure from deep in his chest at the smoothness of it. “You’d be right about that, Agent.” He agreed, but didn’t elaborate right away. Whiskey was interested, but not yet concerned. He hadn’t done anything to warrant any trouble lately. At least not that he could think of.

“Heard you met one of our newer recruits earlier today.” Champ finally elaborated, his eyebrow quirking at Whiskey.

The man couldn’t stop the grin from crossing his face at the mention of the woman that had been on his mind most of the day. He tried to cover it with a sip of the premium alcohol before he could answer.

“I may have.” He acknowledged, not giving too much away.

“I hear you were quite taken with her.”

“No more than any warm blooded man would be.” He brushed it off, adjusting in the plush chair. He’d been forward, true, but he didn’t think it was anything untoward or unwelcomed judging by the way she’d acted.

“Oh, I think it might have been a little bit more than that.” Champ’s grin grew knowingly as he set down his glass, reaching into his desk drawer. The man placed a watch on the desk between them.

The watch was Statesmen issued, a regular part of the uniform. While appearing to be simply a watch, every Agent knew it held several valuable tools and technologies to be used in many situations. A connection to the Statesmen network, a tracking device, sleeper darts, an electro-shock that could be administered in close combat, among other tricks. The black leather band of the watch was scuffed, worn from use. Whiskey looked at it confused, when a particular breeze flit across his wrist that he hadn’t noticed during his day.

Lifting his arm, he cursed as he saw his watch missing from his wrist. “She-”

“You remember that little initiation test, don’t you?” Champ laughed. Of course Whiskey remembered. Late in the many trials they were put through, aspiring agents were instructed to steal something from the Statesmen offices. Nothing of consequence, just something they felt they could get away with. The bigger the haul, the better their score. The test helped assess talents of the hopefuls - stealth, thought process, bravery and/or stupidity - and the feedback was used to strengthen Statesmen security measures.

“That little girl pickpocketed me!” Whiskey cried in anger, mostly at himself for being duped. Champ just laughed harder, passing the man his watch.

“Indeed she did. Top points of her class to boot. Hell, it’s been a while since I’ve seen a score that high.”

“Why that little-” He grumbled under his breath, reattaching the watch firmly to his wrist. He thought back over the encounter, wondering how she’d done it without him noticing. Her final words rang through his memory:

“Thank you for your valuable time, Agent Whiskey.”

“I think she’ll make a good Agent, granted she passes the rest of the training.” Champ pondered aloud over Whiskey’s grumbling. “Swiping a tool right off an Agent, and he doesn’t even notice-”

“I was in the office all day, what need did I have for a watch?” Whiskey countered gruffly.

“I’m looking forward to seeing more of her work.” Champ admitted, knowing not just anyone could make this impression on Agent Whiskey. He couldn’t help but stoke the fires a bit, adding “especially if she keeps gettin’ the drop on you.”

“She... Getting-” Whiskey stuttered as he stood, his glass forgotton on the edge of Champ’s desk. He pointed at Champ as he floundered for words, bringing his fist to his mouth as he choked. “She did not get the drop on me, and it ain’t gonna happen again!” Whiskey stormed out of the office, Champ’s laugh following him through the door.

Tagging: @wickedfrsgrl (thank you for your encouragement to write, and your belief in my skills to even request being on my taglist before I’d even done anything. You beautiful human, you)

#Agent Whiskey x OC #Agent Jack Daniels x OC #Agent Whiskey imagine #Kingsman The Golden Circle fic #Pedro Pascal Character fanfiction #idek what to tag this as for people to find? I'm new here okay? lol #WookieTales #OC: Agent Brandy verse

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pennyserenade · 3 years ago

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pairing: agent whiskey x female oc , agent whiskey x original female character summary: jack and alicia embark on a wild, successful night together, and they end it in a way only they would. warnings: language, gun mention, a little bit of violence, a little bit of sexism. the works, yanno? word count: 5.7k+ (this might just be the longest chapter i’ve ever written, so bare with me) rating: t (teen) author’s note: as much as this is a fanfic about agent whiskey, it has also become a scavenger hunt for cary grant lovers. if you get the references, congrats. if you don’t, that’s just as well, you don’t really have to. also, i must say that this is my first time dabbling in a genre like this, so if it’s not good, it might just be in a few years. at least you’ll be able to say you were here since the beginning

NEXT CHAPTER

CHAPTER ONE: TELL HIM

While the papers might not know who’s been on the arm of one of the most desirable men in the world this past weekend, Jack sure does. Beside Archie Leach, Pinkie looks nearly unrecognizable beneath her sunglasses and the red driving scarf, but Jack can recognize her beaming smile anywhere. This “mystery girl” they speak of - the one who made the second page of the paper even here, in France - is none other than his partner, Miss Alicia Fitzgerald.

Jack wears a teasing grin as he sets the paper down on her bed. She looks up at him from above the book she’s been reading. “What’s that?” she asks, rising to grab it.

Jack shrugs his shoulders. “It seems no one knows,” he tells her, smiling. “Well, that is except for you and I, and the handsome man there, I suppose.”

She frowns. “Oh, those photographers never leave us alone.”

“You make a pretty couple,” he mumbles as he puts the cigarette in his mouth. “Though, I can’t say this is too good for our line of work, Pinkie.”

She sets the paper down beside her on the bed. “Jack, I am going tonight,” she says. “Don’t for one minute think that I’m going to let you go to this party all al—“

He waves his hand in the air dismissively. “No one said anything about that, did they?”

“Well, I know you,” she huffs. “If you think you can do it alone, you try.”

Jack blows a billow of smoke out of the side of his mouth and shakes his head. “No, not with you,” he says, “I like havin’ you around. ‘sides, this is a two person job, so I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

The grin that possesses her lips now is enough to renew the spirit in Jack that went with her unkind words just moments before. He brings the cigarette back to his mouth and inhales. “We should be gettin’ ready. That Frenchman said he’d have a car comin’ for us at 6pm.”

Pinkie leans across her bed and takes the cigarette from Jack’s fingers. He watches her take it between her lips, amused. “It’ll be here around 6:15 then,” she tells him. “Did you call for your suit to be pressed?”

“Yes,” he says. “The shirt too, because I know you’ll be askin’ about that next.”

“And the—“

“I shined the shoes and bought the black bow-tie.”

She nods her head, satisfied. “I’ve taught you well, Cowboy.”

Jack plucks the cigarette from her lips, and puts it back between his own. “Nothin’ I didn’t know already. You jus’ help me remember, like a lil’ talkin’ calendar.”

Pinkie nods her head, though he’s not entirely convinced she’s listening to him anymore because she’s looking down at the paper again.

Jack was only having a bit of fun with her about it, but if he was being honest with himself, the idea of Pinkie being with that guy leaves a bad taste in his mouth. It’s not that he’s jealous, either. Pinkie is a good looking woman, sure, but she’s not his type, too stubborn and sure of herself. She carries herself like a man might, and Jack doesn’t think it’s unbefitting of her, but this quality of hers often sees them clashing over trivial things. Jack prefers women who seem to like him at least more than half of the time, and with Pinkie it’s hard to read.

Past the emotions he doesn’t have for her, what worries Jack is the weight of this relationship she’s in, and the gravity the length of it is beginning to have. She’s been seeing him for a little more than six months and if Jack can trust his intuition - and he should, being that he’s a top class spy and all - this picture in the paper is an indicator of more to come. Today it’s a picture in the paper where she’s just some woman and tomorrow it’s an article all about the lives of the two lovebirds.

Maybe it’s a bit of personal bias, too. Jack can give this Archie character that much. Archie comes from a background not at all similar to Jack’s, with none of that rags-to-riches, American-Dream business. Archie’s father owns a bank and Archie works at said bank; one hand full of money straight into the next.

“Archie is good-looking, isn’t he?” Pinkie remarks, running her finger over the spot on the paper his picture inhabits. “He’s got the most lovely wardrobe, Jack.”

Jack grunts. “Oh, I’m sure. With a life like his, it’d be a crime not to. They’d not let him in those fancy restaurants you frequent together if he didn’t.”

She frowns up at him. “Don’t be harsh. I like him a lot.”

Moving over to the side of his bed, Jack stamps out his cigarette in the crystal ashtray. “That’s nothin’ to do with me, honey. He’s not my boyfriend to like.”

“You’re right,” she responds, closing the pages again. “He’s mine.”

Jack gives her a wide grin, laying the insincerity of his joy on thickly as he blows out the last bit of smoke. “I’ve got to get my suit from the front desk. Start gettin’ ready.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Picking up the hat at the end of his bed, Jack clicks his tongue. “Wouldn’t dream of such a thing, Pinkie.”

With a lone wink he knows will just piss her off, Jack slips out the door of the hotel room. There’s what they would call a “pep” in his step as he whistles his way down the corridor, and in their shared room, she lays on her own bed, thinking of when Jack will be old and grey and alone with a pleased little smile on her face.

——

Despite their disagreements and differences in opinion, when it comes to the professional partnership of Jack and Alicia, it is a guarantee when push comes to shove, they will see eye to eye. Even in the thick of the moment, when seeing each other face to face might not be an option at all - when shots are being fired and people’s lives are in danger - they both know that whatever moves they make are automatically pre-approved by the other. Many issues have been solved by this steadfast, silent agreement they share. Tonight’s is no different.

They say curiosity killed the cat and well, Jack thinks they might not have been so wrong for doing the thing in if it had been like this man. Stupidly curious, and not too quiet about it.

The hand gun Pinkie’s been carrying with her in that magnificently tiny purse of hers for emergencies sits in Jack’s hand, warm, and the bullet from it is lodged somewhere in that man’s chest. Pinkie stands beside Jack, wearing an expression of mixed relief and utter shock. Jack knows the shock isn’t there for all the reasons it should be, and it almost makes him more fond of her.

“I ruined your dress,” he comments before she can. He shrugs his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Pinkie, really, but I had to do that. You know I did.”

“He was going for the door,” she says quietly, providing an excuse for him.

“And he knew who you were,” Jack adds. “The girl in the paper, that’s what he said.”

“I’m supposed to be your wife, Mrs. Chapman,” she responds. “It just wouldn’t have done. I’m not mad.”

Jack watches her peel off the stained white gloves from her hands, trying to make out the expression on her face. “Do you want me to help you out of the dress?” Jack asks her.

Sighing, she turns. “Yeah, go on and unzip me. I’ll have to hurry to get into the other one I brought with me.”

Walking to her, Jack raises his brow. “The other one?” he asks. His fingers grab hold of the zipper on her dress and he tugs down until he can’t anymore. “You brought another?”

“Yeah. I’ve learned to come prepared.”

Jack looks down at himself. A splash of red stains the mid-section of his freshly pressed white dress shirt, and though they are black, the blood still noticeably blots his slacks. It won't do, he thinks. He simply can’t go to a party looking like this.

“I didn’t,” he remarks. “Oh, dammit all to hell.”

She turns back around to face him, wearing only her white slip and her black pair of stockings. “There’s a suit hanging in your closet,” she nods over to the wardrobe across the room. “I come prepared for all.”

Feeling so relieved he could scream, Jack runs over and grabs her by the shoulders. “I’d be nothing without you,” he remarks, kissing her cheek.

She laughs at him, tugging on his bow-tie so it’ll come undone. “C’mon, Jack, we’ve only got fifteen minutes and now we’ve got to call Ginger, too.”

He nods, letting her go. “Sorry about all that foolish talk earlier, by the way,” Jack says, making his way back to his side of the room. “I guess I’m just a tad bit territorial over you, bein’ as you’re my partner and all. Just think it’d be a damn shame to lose you, but it’s really none of my business what you do.”

The doors of the wardrobe open and as expected, a lone dress suit hangs for him beside all his other clothing. He takes it off the hook with a grin.

Pinkie, who has escaped into the bathroom, leans over the sink and inspects her makeup and hair. All she hears is mumbles from Jack and she doesn’t suppose it’s all important anyways, so she doesn’t respond.

There’s no blood on her face, or in her hair, only on her chest and on the necklace she’d been planning to wear. She wets one of the towels on the sink and wipes it off her chest, but she takes off the necklace, leaving it on the counter. Turning off the water, she lets out a heavy breath.

This is her fault. She shouldn’t have gotten so pissed at Jack earlier, because she’s been doing a stupid thing as of late, getting so involved with Archie. While his anger might’ve been misplaced, it’s not unearned.

“Jack!” she calls out. “Jack, won’t you bring me my dress? It’s in the closet!”

She inspects her face one more time in the mirror, just to be safe. All her makeup looks as it had before the incident, but can tell she’s feeling different by the way she looks. This is no time to be feeling anything other than sure, either.

After many years of molding herself into something the men at Statesmen could and would recognize as important, she’s finally doing something she feels is worthy of her time and effort. Her and Jack have been working on this case for almost as long as she’s been with Archie. This is far too precarious a time to let it be muddled easily with emotions that shouldn’t be a concern right now.

To her right, the door opens, successfully startling her from her thoughts. Her hand falls upon her chest and she laughs at herself as Jack hands the dress to her, looking puzzled.

“You okay?” he checks.

She nods. “Oh, yeah,” she says, reassuringly. “Don’t worry about me, alright? Just go ahead and call the front desk and tell them we need the Statesman special, won’t you?”

“That’ll alert Ginger?” he asks.

“Yes. That’s what she told me to say.”

Jack shuts the door without another word, leaving her to her own devices. She appreciates his cooperation, and his willingness to listen tonight. It isn’t always easy to advise Jack on matters he believes he has more expertise on, but tonight he’s agreeable.

She takes the dress out of its protective covering, and she pauses a moment to admire the beauty of it before she puts it on. Maybe it makes her a simple woman, but she doesn’t care, she has a fondness for a beautiful dress and that is precisely what this is. Crafted just for her by some tailors of Archie’s, this floor length evening dress is light pink and cinched around the waist. It only has one shoulder, but it comes with a shawl of the same color, and two pairs of gloves for her to wear. She hadn’t intended to wear this tonight, because it’s so gorgeous and she doesn’t want to ruin it, but she had brought it just in case; it’s one of the finest dresses she owns to her name.

With the telephone to his ear, Jack sits on Pinkie’s bed and leafs through the book she’s reading currently. “Hello,” Jack says, once he’s connected to the front desk. His country accent transforms into something less notable than his usual—a reflection of Pinkie’s own. “This is Mr. Chapman in room 325. My wife and I’d like what I believe is called The Statesmen Special.”

Jack hums in agreement as the woman on the phone confirms the information, and his fingers shuffle the pages in front of him until they find the end of the book. Seeing there’s an inscription, Jack resituates the phone and turns his head to see where Pinkie is.

“Yeah, that’d be most perfect,” he tells the woman on the phone. His eyes return to the book in his lap. “Yes, 6:30pm. And please,” he stresses, beginning to make out the words on the page. ‘From Archie,’ it reads. “Please,” Jack repeats, “Make sure no one but those who are advised come to our room. My wife’s particular about that.”

Humming in agreement a few more times, Jack makes out the rest of the inscription.

‘Alicia, I do hope you have a good trip. I’ve never read this, but I’m told it is good.

P.S.

Don’t forget that you can call me anytime you need.

Love,

Archie Leach.’

“Yes, thank you so much for your help,” Jack says, before hanging the phone back on the receiver.

He re-reads the letter, once more for clarity, and then once more again to be sure he saw the ill-fated words. Sure enough, each time it’s there, in neat scripture. Love.

“This isn’t good,” he mutters to himself. “Not good at all. Foolish man.”

The phone rings next to Jack and in the midst of shaking his head in disappointment, he picks it up and brings it to his ear. “Chapmans,” he answers, putting the book back in its spot.

“Oh, thank you,” he tells the operator. “We will be down shortly.”

Hanging up the phone again, Jack stands from the bed. “The car’s here Pinkie!” he shouts, grabbing the gun off the bed and her black purse. He places the gun back in it, and holds it at his side, waiting for the bathroom door to open.

Pinkie looks like a million bucks in the dress she’s changed into, and Jack can’t help but smile at the sight of her in front of him. “Woah,” he says, letting that accent of his get the best of him. “The trick is to not stand out, honey. I mean you really look good.”

She smiles warmly at him. “You think?” she runs her hands over the front of the dress. “It was made just for me.”

“Looks like it,” he says, handing her the purse in his hands. He offers her his arm. “C’mon now, we’ve got a party to rob.”

—

The Beaufoys are made of money, but it’s something they are clumsily new at. It’s a rookie mistake many get-rich-quick people make, one they don’t really even acknowledge as an error because they are so unaccustomed to their acquired wealth.

The home has a feeling of being un-lived in, despite the fact that it’s filled to the brim with people tonight, and decorated with all the materials a person could want. From the entrance with large, beautiful white doors that lead into a lobby, to the custom built elevator with their family name engraved into a plaque, to the grand room you first step into after you get out of the elevator - it’s all so lavish it appears like a satire of real wealth. Too gold, too full, too much.

Alicia does not come from wealth, but she’s rubbed elbows with just the right amount of rich people to know who’s had their money and who’s just come to it. It is knowledge one must have to play both the comfortably rich and the luckily rich, and one those at Statesmen all but ensured she had it.

While a mission of this complexity and length is new, this setup isn’t; she’s been on the arms of many agents, operating under many names, going to many parties. The year she had started field work, she’d worn a fake wedding ring so many times, she had a tan line on her finger year round.

Jack is easily one of the best fake husbands to have. She’s sure that the real thing would drive her to insanity, but the fake thing is quite endearing. He plays the role of devoted, almost reverent husband well, and never in all of their times of having done this, has anyone suspected they were anything but in love. He hasn’t always taken her as seriously as she would’ve liked, but Jack has always heeded her words about how to act.

Tonight, he holds her close to his side, wrapping an arm around her waist as they step into the crowd of people in the foyer. On both sides of the room are two massive staircases leading up to a floor that overlooks the open space between them. Everyone has people, even on the steps.

“Do you see them?” she whispers, smiling widely at those who they pass.

“Yes,” Jack says, pointing upwards. “Isn’t that chandelier something?”

She follows his finger and sees the couple at the head of the staircase, just slightly below where the larger chandelier hangs.

Alicia nods. “Just darling.”

Jack turns his body to her and brings her close in the crowd of people. “Twelve diamond crests,” he whispers in her ear. His lip hovers just above her ear. They must look like the picture perfect pair, standing so intimately like this. “Six women, six men. You get the men and I’ll get the women?”

“Women,” she repeats back to him softly, in her more smoothed American accent. His women suggests hints of what he really is.

“Women,” he repeats, almost as if it’s a question.

“Yes,” she responds, turning her face to his. Their lips ghost dangerously near each other like this. “When you are finished, meet me at the entrance?”

Jack nods his head. “Don’t do anythin’ I wouldn’t.”

“Don’t forget to drop that accent.”

Jack kisses the side of her lips as a parting, and she lets go of the lapels of his suit jacket. She stands in place, letting the crowd move noisily around her as Jack fades further and further into it. It is when he is no longer in sight that she takes in her surroundings and begins to investigate the lapels of many of the men surrounding her.

She is looking for small, swan shaped figures. Jack and herself had been invited to wear them, as they’d gotten quite familiar with the Beaufoys up until this point, but they’d said no on the grounds that they thought it would make them stand out. This was the truth, though it wasn’t for the sake of being humble. Jack and Alicia knew that having those pins on their evening wear would make them a part of the select group of individuals who had been chosen to wear them. Despite the fact that it would’ve given them an inside as to who wore them tonight and it would’ve given two of them directly two them, strategically, rejecting them was the better move.

The first two Alicia finds in the span of two band songs. She dances with the first man who wears one, and holds his lapels between his fingers affectionately as she just had with Jack. She slips it off without his noticing, and she puts it in her purse. The second one she gets in much the same manner, dancing with the man who wears it but tells him how much she likes his suit in French. Taken with her compliment, and with the explanation of his sense in fashion, he does not notice when she steals the swan off of him.

The third is found after two more band songs play. They get increasingly hard to find, as the crowd thickens in the center room the later it becomes, but they also get easier to steal. She takes the third one by merely pretending to crash into the man who has it. The fourth is found and taken not too soon after, too. She accepts a glass of champagne from a man who’s carrying a tray through the crowd, and she clumsily spills it on the fourth victim. In between her apologies and his dabbing, she takes the swan.

The fifth is hard.

The man who wears it is a desirable one, and she watches for a long span of time as he entertains a group of people around him. She doesn’t know who he is, but he carries himself as though he should be known by all. She stands in a group near his own and listens into his conversation. When he excuses himself, she waits a few moments and then follows him up one of the grand staircases.

She finds herself alone with him after he comes back from the bathroom. Using the information she obtained from the conversation she just heard him have, she compliments him on his life achievements. Stupidly, he asks her to dance and she agrees. Before the song is over, she robs him of the swan.

With five swans in her purse, Alicia hides herself in the thick of the crowd on the stairs. She looks over the party for Jack, because in her pursuit for the fifth swan, she found the sixth of Mr. Beaufoy himself. It won’t be so easy to rob him.

“Looking for me?” Jack says, sneaking up from behind her.

She turns. “Yes. How many have you found?”

“Five. You?”

“Same.”

“Where do you think the other two are?”

“They’re on the Beaufoys,” she discloses, watching around them. “I don’t know how we’re going to take them off of them because I know they’re not going to dance with us.”

Jack smiles at a couple who passes them up the stairs, and then he pushes Alicia and himself to the side of the steps, near the railing. “There’s a telephone near the kitchen downstairs. Go call us the car.”

She frowns. “Jack, we don’t have all of them.”

“Trust me.”

Jack steps onto the stair above them but she grabs his sleeve, preventing him from going further. She looks at him apprehensively. He smiles. “Don’t worry,” he mouths.

She lets go of his sleeve and he slips away again. Without looking back, she moves in the opposite direction, down the stairs and through the crowd of people to the corridor near the kitchen. The telephone sits on the table.

Bringing it to her ear, she dials the operator and tells them who she needs to reach. They connect her to Ginger and she promises a car will be there in a moment’s time. Not saying goodbye, Alicia hangs up the phone.

She goes unnoticed through the crowd again, and on her way to the elevator, she spots Jack at the top of the stairwell, chatting merrily with the famed Beaufoys. Their eyes connect and she raises her hand to wave, but just as she does, someone grabs hold of her.

“American cunt!” growls a voice she recognizes. She turns her head and sees the important man she’d chased up the stairway holding tightly onto her wrist. “You’ve stolen from me!”

Above, Jack shifts closer to the railing, but he does not break his act or the sentence he’s in the middle of. He trusts Pinkie knows what she is doing.

“I didn’t,” she says calmly. She tries to pull away from him but he proves stronger than he looks.

“You did. Give me that purse of yours.”

He leans forward to grab it but she pulls it back from his reach.

“If you’ve got nothing to hide, show me,” he tells her.

Her eyes look back up to Jack, but he’s no longer paying attention to her.

“Alright,” she says, looking back to the man. “Let me go and I’ll open the thing.”

When the man lets her go she knows she has no choice but to open the purse for him, because she’s too far from the staircase and the elevator will take much too long.

Displaying a true sense of calm, she opens the purse for the man. Much to her surprise, none of the swans are inside, nor is the gun.

“See,” she spats out. “Nothing, you fool.”

The angry red man turns into an embarrassed one. “Oh, I’m most sorry. I just thought…”

“Sure you did,” she says, mocking her own anger. “You better go find the real thief. Perhaps another American cunt.”

Alicia doesn’t wait for the man’s response, instead storming away to the elevator in a huff. When she gets to it, and she’s pressing the button, Alicia opens her purse again to ensure that the purse was truly empty. She finds it is.

By the time the doors open and she gets in, she has no idea what to tell Jack. She can’t go back in and search for them, because the mere fact that one of them had already caught on to the fact that they’d been missing the pin and connected it to her probably meant the rest were in the midst of doing the same. It would be a death mission and it's surely to draw unwanted attention to both her and Jack after all is said and done.

She collects her and Jack’s coat from the men at the front of the building as though nothing has happened, and then she steps outside onto the elegant front lawn to wait for Jack, as planned.

Maybe all those men who had been so harsh on her had been right; maybe she wasn’t a good fit. Even Jack himself had expressed his doubts when they’d begun working together. She’s really done them in with this one.

“Madam Chapman?” a man in uniform asks, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Yes?”

“Your car is ready when you are.” The man points to a white vehicle three cars down from the one in front of the doorway. “Thank you for spending the night with the Beaufoys, and have a safe trip home.”

She smiles at the man and he walks off to the next couple close beside her to tell them much of the same.

It only takes a few moments longer until Jack comes to stand right next to her. He grabs his jacket from her arms and moves them along down the steps of the home. “Where is the car?” he asks.

“Over there.” She points to the white car. “Did you get them?”

He only nods in response, but he’s wearing a proud grin. It makes her feel a little queasy.

“Jack, I’ve got something to tell you.”

“I’ve got something to tell you too.”

“No, Jack, it’s serious.”

One of the employees opens the car door for them. Jack reaches into his suit pocket and produces a tip. “Thank you,” he tells him, ignoring Alicia’s comment. “In you go,” he says instead, nodding towards the open door.

She gets in and Jack steps in behind her, lifting her dress so as not to step on it. When they’re sat and the door is closed, she leans across the middle seat to him.

“Jack, I really must tell you something.”

He shakes his head. “Oh, honey, don’t look so serious.”

“Jack!”

“Pinkie.”

“Oh, Jack,” she says. “Jack, I lost those pins I had.”

He sighs, but he doesn’t appear nearly as distressed as he should. “I know so,” he says, reaching into his pockets. He lays all twelve swans out of the seat between them. “Oh and this too.” Jack lifts himself off the seat and pulls out her gun from behind his back, putting it beside the swans. “Now stop looking so serious. It’s not befitting for a woman in a dress like that.”

“How’d you…?” She frowns, thinking. Jack pulls out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, and puts one in his mouth. He offers her one but she shakes her head. “Oh, the staircase.”

Jack winks. “Mm, right on the head, darlin’. I saw that fellow following you a mile away, and I knew exactly what he wanted, so I followed you too. Smart, huh?”

She crosses her arms. “No,” she growls. “Not at all, Jack!”

Taking his turn to frown, Jack says, “Oh, don’t tell me you’re pissed about it! I saved your pretty lil’ life.”

“Oh, you’d love to believe that wouldn’t you?”

Alicia leans away from Jack, towards the other door. For the rest of the ride, they don’t say a thing to each other.

——

“So the rumors in the paper are true then?” Jack says coolly. He glances down pointedly at the ring she’s just out back on her finger. The one she had there before, the decoy, is left on the table in front of them. “Mr. New York proposed to our best agent - or wait, mystery woman - and she said yes?”

She smiles at his dramatics. “Oh, Jack, don’t look so gloomy. It’s not befitting of a man who practically just completed a mission all by himself,” she mocks.

He straightens himself in his seat. “Don’t be like that, darlin’,” he scolds, a thick country accent seeping those words of his. He speaks with it like he really missed it. “I’ll be sure everyone knows the essential role you played tonight.”

“No, Jack, it’s quite alright. I’m not going to be working with you - or the agency for that matter - much longer anyhow. I was hoping we’d be in better spirits before I told you that.”

This causes Jack to lean forward on the table that separates them. “He made you choose,” he whispers, as though they aren’t the only two on this plane. “You can’t become just a housewife. That’s just not who you are.”

Smiling, she takes the cigarette case with his initials on it off of the table, and she takes one from it. Tapping the cigarette on the back of the case, she says, “He didn’t make me choose, Jack. I chose. This isn’t the life for a woman. Believe you said that yourself, once upon a time.”

Jack takes his packet of matches off the table before she can, and he lights one for her. “Well, I was wrong.” He lights the end of her cigarette. “Dead wrong. You did great tonight and I’m not so egotistical, I can't admit that.”

She takes a puff off of the cigarette and laughs. “Oh, men get awfully kind when you start pulling the punches, don’t you think?” She inspects him for a moment, taking in his frustrated, puzzled look. Then, leaning forward just as he has, she touches a finger to the lines between his eyebrows. “You got those because of the way you’re looking at me now, Mr. Daniels.”

Jack pushes her hand away from him. “You’re making a mistake.”

She flicks the end of her cigarette into a bowl in front of them. “Yes, but it’s my mistake to make. Isn’t that nice, freedom of choice?”

“You won’t ever get back to where you are if you leave now. You’re just gettin’ really good.”

She laughs but there’s mirth lacking from it. “Yes, Jack, and I’ve only been on, what, two years less than you?”

“Well, that’s not a fair comparison.”

“Why isn’t it?”

“Because I had experience before this.”

“Oh?” She raises her eyebrow. “Being a rodeo clown?”

Jack clicks his tongue at her. “Oh, you’re being rotten now. You were only a fuckin’ actress when they found you, baby. You weren’t meant to be an agent.”

“I’ll stay rotten too ‘cause it’s not gonna matter at the end of the day. I could be talking to you sweet as can be and you’d still call me that because I’m not saying what you want.”

Jack shakes his head and takes a cigarette out for himself. Placing it between his lips, he says, “Archie is a joke, and that’s what you’re going to be too. I bet you’re only with him for the money and I promise you it won’t be enough.”

Jack doesn’t even have the opportunity to light the cigarette before she’s tearing it out of his mouth and throwing it to the other side of the plane. He looks at her, taken aback. “What’d you do that for?”

She stands from her seat. “Archie’s twice the man you could ever hope to be, Jack. You’re only mad because no one’s calling him a hick, and you know that stupid accent of yours makes sure the world knows that’s just what you are.”

“Oh,” he huffs, taking a stand from his seat too. “I’ll be happy when you’re married off to him, and I was right when I said you weren’t meant for this the first time. I may be a hick, but you’ll always just be the two bit actress from nowhere who couldn’t even make it to the big screen. You were recruited by us hicks, and don’t you forget it, princess.”

Alicia stamps out her cigarette. “Jack,” she says, “You’re enough to make any woman want to marry and become a housewife.”

With those final words, she exits to the bathroom, leaving Jack to seep in his anger.

Jack sits back in his seat and smokes his cigarette, watching the night sky below the plane. Though he is angry at her, there’s a very sensible part of him alert right now, and it’s telling him that he’s got to do something about this marriage.

He’ll be damned if he lets his two bit actress become someone else’s wife.

#agent whiskey x oc #agenty whiskey #jack daniels #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #agent whiskey fanfic #jack daniels fanfic #fanfic #kingsman the golden circle #kingsman #agent whiskey x female oc

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theyungrose · 4 years ago

Text

Mistress (Joe Anoa’i X OC)

Chapter 1

Now before you all start calling me homewrecker this and clout-chasing hoe that, you should know that started off innocent... at least at the very beginning. It was never about ruining a happy home or trying to sleep my way to a championship, even though that’s ultimately how all this will be portrayed.

The least I can do is sleep well at night knowing what I did and didn’t do. And the least you all could do is hear out the real story, not the exaggerated bullshit they spread on Twitter.

It’s actually a pretty good story.

Pictured Above: Me (said mistress) Inez Banks

Being snowed in at a hotel could either be the worst travelling experience ever, or the perfect call out excuse; it all depends on how you cut it. It was Thursday night, meaning I should be in Syracuse; as should the rest of the roster.

Where were we instead? Snowed in to the Marriott hotel 35 miles away. Or at least I was, everyone’s travelling agent is different. I’m barely a superstar though, so I basically did this to myself.

Either way, I wasn’t mad at it. At all. I’d already worked out earlier that morning, showered and did my makeup to leave at 4pm just as the snow was starting; and then I got the call from Stephanie. It was like when your school pops up on the news as closed for a snow day.

Child, when I tell you I put on my sweats and tank top so fast.

Now, it was 9pm, and it suddenly occurred to me that the hotel bar downstairs just might be open. What, you thought I was going to get blessed by this sudden off day and not get tipsy?

Walking in, the lights were low and warm like a cafe, and they played soft radio music from a speaker in the corner. I took my seat at an empty booth and waited for a waiter to come.

“How can I help you tonight miss?”

I was so busy scrolling through Twitter that I didn’t realize the waiter that came by my table, but when I looked up, it wasn’t his eyes that I caught.

Instead it was the medium brown pair watching me from the bar. They were just like mine, yet it was like I’d never seen eyes like his before. It was like being caught in headlights but not out of fear, just sheer intrigue.

“Ma’am?”

The slight impatience in my waiter’s tone snapped me back to reality, I hadn’t even realized I was staring.

“Hi... yeah sorry. Do you have Chateau Rosé?”

“Would you like a glass or a bottle.”

I couldn’t help myself. My eyes looked past the waiter again to find the same pair still staring from across the restaurant, as if they had never moved.

“...the bottle.”

I grinned softly, now finding myself completely enthralled in this stranger, who actually wasn’t that much of a stranger. Only a stranger to me because, before this moment, I’d never met him in person or seen him in passing.

Remember, I’m barely a superstar. Just a dark match competitor from NXT that occasionally shows face on live events.

That’s when he stood up. Whiskey glass in hand, he rose from his stool and started making his way over to me. I was too awkward to stare him in his face as he approached so I looked down at my phone until he was in close enough proximity.

“Can I join you?”

Even his voice could sell porn.

“Sure there ain’t no one else sitting there.”

He smirked sliding in the booth seat across from me just as the waiter returned with my bottle.

“Should I bring another cup?”

“Yes.”

Yes, we said it at the exact same time. If that’s not the cutest, corniest, cliche shit I’ve ever heard then I don’t want to hear what is. The waiter even chuckled a bit as he left to the back.

“My name’s...”

“Amara. I know.”

The shock had to be written all over my face as I looked back at him. His smirk grew wider as he toyed with the rim of my glass, eyes still intensely on me.

“Yeah... my real name’s Inez. How did you know my stage name though?”

“I’ve seen you before. A couple times actually. You’ve just never seen me see you.”

Immediately, I got wet. Have I really had this sex God in mortal man’s clothing on my body all this time and not realized it? Am I blind?

“I’m Joseph, I prefer Joe way more though. Please don’t call me Joseph.”

It was so cute how he introduced himself as if I-- (A.) didn’t already know who he was, and (B.) wasn’t already borderline obsessed with him. As is every other woman that has seen him.

Including the one reading this story.

“Okay Joe, you can just call me Inez. You can’t make many nicknames out of that ‘cuz it’s only four letters, its kinda boring.”

“I don’t think so... it’s cute actually. Unique.”

Were his eyes this intense when he talked to everyone else or was it just me? It felt like I was melting under his gaze, and in the best way possible.

“Crazy about the storm right? I got in from the gym right as it was starting, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

I nodded, watching the snow continue to fall through the wall-length windows across from us.

“Me either, but it’s so pretty... and these hotel beds are hella comfortable so I’m not the slightest bit annoyed.”

Joe’s eyes were watching me over the rim of his wine glass as I looked back at him; I really couldn’t look this man in his face when his eyes were on me. It felt like I was smiling so hard I looked stupid.

“Have you been here long? It looks pretty empty.”

“It was until I came in about an hour ago. I was actually about to leave but then... the prettiest female walked in.”

Woosh.

Use context clues to figure out what that sound means. I actually had to shift in my seat just to maintain my composure. If you put me next to a red crayon right now I swear you couldn’t tell the difference.

“And it was perfect timing too. I was so bored I actually considered driving to another city to see my friend.”

This time I smirked, now slightly more relaxed as I moved to my second glass of rose.

“Well your welcome for saving you a very cold and lonely night in your car.”

For the first time since meeting him I heard him laugh, and I was convinced that I would dedicate the rest of my life doing anything to hear that sound again.

“Much obliged princess.”

I couldn’t tell if he was saying that to flirt or if he was alluding to my ring name “Princess” Amara, so I just took it both ways. (wink wink.)

One hour stretched to two, then two reached out to three, and before either of us actually realized it was 12:15 the next morning and we were halfway through another bottle of Chateau.

“Sorry guys I’ve stretched my boss out long enough, he’s ready to close up for the night. You guys are welcome to take the bottle with you though.”

We both smiled at the waiter, he was the real MVP of the night. Joe paid for the second bottle and tipped him generously, then with his elbow locked around mine we sauntered our way slowly to the elevators. To anyone else this might’ve looked like a romantic gesture; and while it was really cute, Joe had already been drinking and the wine was starting to beat me already, so I knew it was beating him too.

“What floor is your room on?”

“One.... one plus five.”

I held up the numbers on my hands to show him, and he stared at them for a second.

“So six?”

“No goofy, that equals fifteen!”

It was a good thing we were on an elevator as loud as we were being.

“That’s not how math works sweet pea.”

We both had rooms on the top floor, and admittedly, sobriety kicked in a bit when I realized this meant I had to leave him.

“Do you know how to play cards?”

Midway down the hallway towards my room Joe’s sudden question stopped me in my tracks. I turned around to see him a couple of steps behind me.

“Yeah... yeah I know how to play cards.”

At that response Joe quickly closed the space between us, so close that I had to tilt my head up so I could see his face.

“Do you want to?”

And I was back to melting under his gaze again. This time there was no hesitation.

“Yes.”

Joe’s lips spread into a grin that covered his whole face, and I felt his hand reach down to gently grab mine. They were rough yet warm as he led me away from my door and in the opposite direction.

Tag List

@msbigredmachine @romanreigns @fatedxdestiny @thewrestlingobsessor@saccreigns @lavitabella87

#Joe Anoa'i #Joe Anoa'i X OC RomanReigns X OC #joeanoa'ifanfiction #roman reigns fanfiction

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max--phillips · 4 years ago

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My boyfriend and I are doing a agent whiskey x female oc roleplay for eventual publishing and its so fucking cute, we wanna do both Maxes and Marcus! Definitely going to do Javier Peña as well. We already started on Din.

!!!!! Yoooo that’s awesome! You should tag me when u do publish it :0!

#tori answers questions #historianwithaheart #btw I did get ur other ask w the prompt!! I’m gonna do it when I get a chance #probably the next couple days tbh I have tomorrow and Friday off

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lady-of-glass-and-bone · 4 years ago

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Pedro Pascal Boys Masterlist

Anything without a link is a wip and anything with coming soon! means I’m currently working on it.

Main Masterlist

You’re My Stranger In The Dark (female self insert)

Cuddling Headcanon’s

Fear of the Dark (gender neutral reader)

Something Human (gender neutral werewolf reader) for writer wednesday 8/4/2021

Cookies Are A Love Language (gender neutral reader) for writer wednesday 12/15/2021

Grief Is Love Persevering But It Still Hurts (major grief drabble)

Gray Skies (immortal original female character)

Triple Frontier boys:

camping blurb

Cycles (gender neutral reader)

Caught Within Your Stare (gender neutral reader) for Kinktober 2021

Agent Absinthe (Agent Whiskey x ofc!agent) Playlist, summary, moodboards here

(mini) Character playlist for 'Doll' here

It’s Only Forever (Max Phillips x werewolf!OFC)

Vampires Don’t Sparkle (Max Phillips x werewolf!OFC) for writer wednesday 6/16/21

Novalunosis (Din Djarin x female oc) for writer wednesday 5/25/21

Baar‘ur (Din Djarin x female oc) for writer wednesday 6/9/21

The Fruit Thief Part 1 (Din Djarin x reader)

Sway The Stars Which Dazzle Like Pearls (Din Djarin x mute!reader)

Songs for Pedro’s Characters

Florence + The Machine: Lungs / Ceremonials / How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful / High As Hope / Dance Fever

Tove Lo: Queen of the Clouds / Lady Wood / Blue Lips /Sunshine Kitty / Dirt Femme

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #triple frontier #ezra (prospect)#prospect 2018 #agent whiskey #agent jack whiskey daniels #kingsman the golden circle #max phillips #bloodsucking bastards #din djarin #the mandalorian #masterlist #duck did it

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duhragonball · 5 years ago

Text

Oh, Shit,I Just Remembered Pete Wisdom.

I started looking into Warren Ellis a little more, to see what he accusations against him were, exactly. So much has come out about so many people that it’s hard to keep it all straight, but I’ve been a comics fan since 1993, and Ellis has been in the industry for about as long, I think, so I wanted to know more.

The quick version, from what I can tell, is that Ellis would offer to mentor fans who wanted to break into the comics industry, and with the women, he would start to segue that relationship into something more physical. It would get to the point where he’d want to have sex with them, and they felt like they couldn’t refuse him, since he could torpedo their careers before they could get off the ground. A few women must have spoken out about it, leading others to do the same, and eventually it started to become clear that there was a lot of similarities in their stories.

As I was thinking about this, it suddenly dawned on me that I first heard of Ellis from his work on Marvel Comics’ Excalibur, where he introduced Kitty Pryde’s love interest, Pete Wisdom. And then a bunch of stuff started to make a lot more sense in hindsight.

The X-Men franchise is overrated trash, but probably the wankiest, most usless, most overrated part of the X-Men mythos is the spin-off series Excalibur, which was basically a splinter group of X-Men operating in Great Britain. Fans loved this book, I think because it featured popular characters like Kitty Pryde and Nightcrawler, and the book (mostly) managed to steer clear of the mega-crossovers that dominated the rest of the franchise in the 80′s and 90′s. When I finally sat down to read my X-Men collection in 2015 and 2018, I did so confident that I wouldn’t need to bother with Excalibur, because it rarely had anything to do with the main books. The message Marvel sent me with this book was that it doesn’t matter and it never did.

Anyway, around 1995 or so, Warren Ellis took over as the writer, and he introduced a new character named Pete Wisdom, who quickly became romantically involved with Kitty Pryde. This was somewhat controversial for a few reasons:

1) When Kitty was introduced in 1980, she was stated to be only 13 years old. “Thirteen-and-a-half”, to be precise. They actually threw in the fraction, just to make her seem even more like a little kid, if that was possible. Comic book time moves slower than real time, but it wasn’t entirely clear to anyone how old Kitty was by the time she relocated to England and met Pete. Later stories by other writers would attempt to set Kitty’s age as being 16 or 18, which makes Kitty’s relationship with Pete a continuity error at best.

2) In spite of Kitty being very young, people had been shipping her with Colossus for years, and it annoyed them that there was yet another obstacle for their extremely problematic-but-much-desired relationship.

3) People accused Pete Wisdom of being a Mary Sue, since he seemed to just pop in out of nowhere and work himself into the team, win the heart of the most popular female character, and he’s supposed to be this super cool secret agent type. The implication here was that Ellis only invented Pete as a self-insert OC for the purpose of getting it on with Kitty Pryde.

I think there were two schools of thought on how Kitty was supposed to be portrayed in comics. The first was that Chris Claremont had insisted on keeping her eternally 16 or whatever, this plucky kid prodigy who was always too young to get into these kinds of relationships. Ellis’s supporters felt that this was too restrictive, and it was foolish of Claremont to think that other writers would be beholden to his wishes, especially after he left Marvel Comics in 1991. Ellis seemed to be allowing Kitty to grow and mature as a character, and it didn’t matter if it messed around with “comic book time”, since no one knows how that works exactly anyway.

For my part, I always thought Pete Wisdom was a fucking tool of a character. He was yet another government spook riding on the popularity of “The X-Files”. Plus, the conventional wisdom among comics nerds in the 90′s was that U.K. writers were better somehow, just because they liked to write snarky dialogue and deconstruct the superhero genre. Pete Wisdom was a mutant, and he joined the Excalibur team, but he wasn’t gonna wear any poncy tights, innit? No, he went into action with a suit and tie, smoking cigarettes and constantly drinking shots, because that’s more bloody realistic, mate. Ellis gave him an eyepatch in 2001, because of course he did.

The point I want to make here is that Ellis came up with this big idea in the 90′s, and fans ate it up because they were X-Men fans and had no taste. You have to understand that in the 90′s, the big overused cliche was giant guns. The second biggest cliche was nostalgia references to the 1960′s. So when someone trotted out “Fox Mulder, but he’s sarcastic and British”, people actually thought it was kind of fresh by comparison. Surely this bold new concept could only take Kitty Pryde into amazing new directions...

But no, Excalibur got cancelled in 1998, and they moved Kitty back to the X-Men. Did they even break up Pryde and Wisdom on panel? I have no idea. All I know is I read a bunch of her post-Excalibur appearances and she barely mentions the guy, probably because a lot of people in Marvel probably wanted to forget the time she got aged up just enough to sleep with a skeevy-looking older man.

Looking back on it, I always sort of assumed that Ellis only did the Pete/Kitty thing because he was just looking for something interesting to do with the characters, and he wasn’t going to let tradition or continuity stand in the way. But in 2020, the whole thing starts to feel more autobiographical, since this resembles the sort of thing he was doing with young women through his online community. Ellis’ “apology” states that he didn’t notice the power imbalance when he was involved with these women. “I have never considered myself famous or powerful.” I find this insulting to my intelligence, since I used to see fans worship every stroke of his pen like he was some kind of genius. News would come out that Warren Ellis would be taking over the writing duties of a book, and fans would say “Good, they finally fixed it.” They just trusted him to do right by whatever project he was given. So I can only imagine how overwhelmed they might have felt when they signed up for his mailing list fan club thing and he would offer to help some of them become professional writers.

So maybe the critics had Pete Wisdom figured out from the beginning. Whether Ellis realized it or not, Pete was his power fantasy, an older guy just impressive enough to get the attention of a (very) young woman and take her under his wing. And he teaches her how to drink whiskey and smoke and how to know all this black ops horseshit, and-- well whaddya know?-- they’re having the sex.

And to a point, maybe that’s human nature. I always wanted to be a writer because I liked the feeling of power it offered. Imagine being the guy who could put words in Captain Picard’s mouth, or decide exactly what kind of music Superman likes. And yeah, if I could make a name for myself in that kind of field, maybe the ladies would start to notice me, and then I’d be doing pretty well for myself.

The thing is, I eventually learned that writing for comics is a real bullshit thing to get into. You can’t just submit scripts, and there’s no set of steps to follow. I remember reading stories of writers breaking into the comics industry, and they were all different, usually involving some improbable meeting with someone who was already there. A comics writer I respect once wrote that it takes some creativity to figure out how to break in, and if you can’t find your own way, then maybe you’re not creative enough to be in the business in the first place.

And that’s how these women got pulled into Ellis’s nonsense, I assume. They had similar aspirations to my own, and at first he seemed to be offering them a lifeline, but then it led to something they hadn’t bargained for, and what could they do? If they refused to have sex with him, they might have to start from scratch.

Which sort of confirms my suspicions that writing for comics is just a bullshit job, because maybe it’s only hard to get into because of all the gatekeeping that goes on. Why bother accepting submissions and hiring based on merit, when a handful of writers can just vouch for friends or fans willing to do anything they ask? All I know is it’s relatively straightforward to get a job in chemistry. I got a degree in chemistry, and then I sent out some applications, went to some interviews and they offered me a job. Maybe if Marvel worked the same way, guys like Warren Ellis wouldn’t have the sort of unfair influence they have over their fans.

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