#kingsmen golden circle fanfic

[justsomerandomfanfic]

We Meet Again - Eggsy Unwin X Female Reader

Title: We Meet Again

Eggsy Unwin X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Reader's boss

| Part 2 |

WC: 3,004

Warnings: Kingsman canon violence, guns, Reader is also a spy, spy stuff, suggestive (not a lot, but references a few suggestive things, none play out), teasing, banter, flirting, cursing, nicknames, slight angst, and fluff

"Target's turning the corner," You muttered, pushing your shades up, the sun blinding, as you briskly walked down the sidewalk, easily maneuvering past pedestrians as you followed the man a couple of hundred feet in front of you. You stuffed your hands into your overcoat pockets, eyes trained on the man whom you had been following for the past couple of days.

"Don't lose sight of him, Agent." The voice in your ear spoke just as the man you were following turned down another corner. "We need to know where he's going."

"I'm on it, calm yourself, would you?" You grumbled, your hand brushing against the rough brick wall of a building as you turned the corner, pausing as your eyebrows furrowed. "He's... He's entering a bookstore?" You relay, confused.

There was silence on the other line as you began walking towards the small, hole-in-the-wall bookstore, "Proceed with caution." Your boss then spoke.

Rolling your eyes, you let out a sigh as you pressed your hand against the swinging door, pushing it open as a bell rang from above you, signaling the workers or owner of your arrival. You lightly surveyed the room, taking in the small bookstore. 

You took note of the two workers behind the counter, lightly chatting with one another - eating their lunch, and the old woman sitting at a small table with a coffee in her hand, book in the other. It was actually a really nice-looking bookstore, and if this was any other day - when you weren't working - you probably would've enjoyed reading a book or two; you could easily imagine yourself sitting at one of the tables, reading a mystery novel. But today was different. Today, you wanted to reach your target, find out what you needed, and leave without getting caught.

The bookshelves in the little shop lined up in rows, giving way to the back wall where there were a few more tables and chairs, all covered by a white cloth. A large sign hung on the far wall, proclaiming 'Bookstore' in big, neon, red letters, and 'A Place Where Dreams Come True!' was written on a poster below in swirly orange letters, to the right side of it.

Slowly, you walked to an aisle beside your target, watching him from your peripheral vision as you tried to blend in and pretend that you were just any other regular, day-to-day, human being looking for a book. As you walked down the aisle, you let your fingers brush from spine to spine; you spotted several novels about time travel, some sci-fi, fantasy, and even an entire section dedicated to cowboy romance novels.

You then turned to look at the long bookshelf behind you, while allowing your gaze to peer through the tops of the books. You surveyed what you could of him, tilting your head slightly as you watched his hand reach out and grab a book from his side of the shelf, opening it, and placing it back a moment later. He was looking for something... But, the question was... What was he looking for?

Turning around again, you faced the previous shelf, grabbing a handful of random books before piling them in your arms. Then, you made your move, walking down your row of bookshelves and turning into his. Looking down at your books, you tried to pretend that you weren't paying any attention before bumping right into the target. You and the target staggered back slightly, your books falling from your arms - and the few in his - as you gasped.

"Oh, my goodness, I'm so sorry for bumping into you like that," You dropped to your knees, beginning to grab some of the books that you had 'accidentally' dropped. "I am such a klutz."

The man bent down on one knee, shaking his head as he began to pick up some of the books with you, "It's no problem. You like thrillers?"

“Hmm?” You paused at his question, looking up slightly to see the book in his hand that you had randomly grabbed, "Oh, yeah... I find them... Thrilling." You answered, feigning nervousness and embarrassment as you finished collecting the books in a neat stack in front of your knees.

The man was silent, as you felt his eyes on you, staring. You took a chance, glancing up at him above the rims of your sunglasses, your gaze finding his. His head was tilted to the side slightly, like some confused puppy, as his lips turned downward in a frown. It took only a split second for him to realize who you were, both continuing to stare at each other as your lips twitched; threatening to turn into a mischievous grin. With a flicker in his eyes, a knowing look soon found its way upon his face. 

But before you could even say a word, he swiftly pulled out his handgun, silencer at the ready, from his satchel. You let your smirk falter as he raised the gun to point directly at your chest, “You finally remembered to bring a silencer. Good for you…" You trailed off softly, quietly so as to not draw attention to the both of you, but deadly enough as you gave the gun one glance before slowly sitting up, raising your hands in the air beside your head. Why did he have to be so good at his job?

"Y/N... Long time, no see." He tried to play off, a grin creeping across his face. It had been a long time, seven months long. You hadn’t seen him since Rio. “You seemed to have forgotten how to properly tail someone. Miss me or something?"

"I'm not here for a reunion, Unwin." You responded, "Now, I'm going to stand up, slowly." You carefully demanded, your eyes never leaving his as you both slowly stood.

"Now," He began, as he took a few steps closer; a foot or so distance between the both of you. "Hand me the file, love."

"File? What file?" You asked, feigning innocence as you widened your eyes and tilted your head to the side. Blinking owlishly, “I don't have a file.”

His furrowed brows lifted slightly as he gave you a lopsided smile, letting out a small awkward laugh - between a laugh and a scoff; you could tell that he was clearly in discomfort, trying to lift the tension with his words. "This is quite the predicament you put me in here." There was no point in lying anymore. He knew you had it… Somehow.

"And I assure you, it'll be much worse if you don't put down that gun." You threatened, hating how much your arms were beginning to ache, "I'm not giving you the file, Eggsy."

"Oh, how I love it when you say my name, love." He sighed out, his tone almost taunting as you narrowed your eyes.

Clicking your tongue to the roof of your mouth, lowering one of your hands, pressing the small button on your earpiece, silencing it; allowing you to speak freely without your boss hearing. "Why do you have to be so frustrating?" You exclaimed, glaring daggers at the man before you.

Eggsy only shrugged, "I'm just trying to do my job." He answered before you caught him by surprise when you grabbed his wrist. In a matter of seconds, you moved your forearm over his, forcing him to bend at his waist as the arm that held the gun pressed horizontally against your stomach. With a sharp tug of your free hand, you pulled the gun from him, watching as he stumbled back. Blinking slightly, he frowned - obviously upset with himself at the fact that you so easily took his gun, "... Which you are delaying." He added, voice sounding a bit strained as he glanced from you, to the gun, and back. "I see you still got the moves." He mimicked your previous stance, raising his hands in the air.

"I'm just trying to do my job too," You lowered the gun slightly, resting it against his gut, "And taking your gun was almost too easy, Eggsy." You countered, trying to ignore how close you were to him; your eyes subconsciously drifting down his body, your heart beginning to hammer against your ribcage as you again met his gaze, "I just want to know what you know." You lowered your voice, your expression softening ever so slightly.

"What I know?" Eggsy huffed out a laugh, "I don't know any more than you do." He paused, letting his eyes flicker over your face for a moment - seemingly thinking - before continuing, "We could always come together and exchange notes-"

You narrowed your eyes, feeling your face flush slightly, "I am not going to let this turn into the last time we met."

Last time? Last time in Rio. That night that was filled with dancing, drinking, and getting intel. You were on a mission, a mission that crossed over with Eggsy’s. There had always been that palpable tension that had kept you drawn to each other. Something you'd never experienced before. It had been months since the two of you had run into each other - not even your missions could keep you both apart for long it seemed - ‘It was fate,’ Eggsy said one time - and you had your high doubts, but you were beginning to believe it. It was kind of strange just how many times you bumped into him, the sight of him still got to you every single time though.

There were so many times that you and Eggsy would meet on these missions and things would inevitably end up with the two of you in compromising positions together. You hated how wrapped around his finger you were, you hated how much he affected you. So, you pushed him away, trying desperately to stay distant. But, it was hard, hard to forget about him, hard to pretend that what you were feeling wasn't real, hard to forget his face, his voice, his scent, and his touch. Even now, you had to force yourself to stop from just smiling. You had to admit, despite yourself, you were almost glad to see him again. But, that night could never repeat itself. Not now, not when you were trying to get your job done.

You shook your head, "Stop playing around." You admonished, not wanting to admit anything to him. You hated the fact that you couldn't even act naturally around him. You hated the fact that you could barely breathe around him. You hated the fact that, whenever he was near, you found yourself flustered and nervous. And you especially hated the way your heart raced whenever you were near him... Eggsy was making things difficult, as always.

"Well, if you must know..." Eggsy began, "I think you liked it just as much as I did, love." He continued, his voice low and husky as you tried your best to remain calm, but your heart was racing. You didn't want this conversation to end up anywhere near the bedroom... Or the shower... Or anywhere else where things were more intimate with him.

You ignored his comment, your eyes snapped away from his, and glanced down at the satchel that he was wearing, "I can't let you jeopardize this mission for me, Eggsy."

Eggsy said nothing, still grinning as he quickly grabbed a hold of your gun, forcing your arm up, and spinning you around; your back hitting his chest and expelling a small ‘umph’ from you. Locking you against his body with his other arm and yours, he used his free hand to expel the magazine before pulling back the slide barrel; you watched in anguish as the bullet flew through the air almost in slow-motion and onto the ground with the magazine.

Sighing deeply, you finally acknowledged the way his hot breath tickled your neck, how the muscles in his arms flexed as he held you tight against him. "You never make things easy, do you?" You huffed, "I should have known better than to expect anything different."

Eggsy chuckled, nudging his nose to the hair on the side of your head before muttering, "Well, I guess that's one thing we've both got in common." Goosebumps began to rise from your arms at the feeling of his warm breath against your skin, causing a familiar heat to build between the two of you.

"I really don't have time for this." You tried to push out of his arms, but his grip tightened around you, keeping you pinned to his chest.

"You were the one that has been following me." He pointed out, a smug grin on his lips as you felt your heart begin to pound in your ears. The warmth from his body bled into your clothes, sinking into your skin the longer you stayed pressed up against him. You were struggling to focus. "You wouldn't want to tell me why, would you?"

Oh, how you hated him sometimes, how cocky he got. Though you also knew that he was just confident in his capabilities, it still irritated the hell out of you. You could already imagine the expression on his face. You could already picture the smug smile plastered on his handsome features as he held you so close to him. You could already see his eyes glimmering as they gazed down at you. He was loving this…

It was hard to concentrate, trying to think of a way out of this predicament as you felt as if your entire being was being engulfed in the smell of pine, and musk that was so incredibly intoxicatingly him... And... And...

And then, after all those thoughts ran through your mind, you snapped yourself out of it and back into action. Lifting your shoe, you slammed your heel down onto his foot, hard. You heard his breath catch in his throat as he groaned, and as his arms loosened around you, you quickly used your momentum to spin around. Raising your free hand, you grabbed the back of his neck, pushing his head towards yours; discomfort all over his face from the sudden pain to his foot.

You tilted your head slightly as you stared into those ocean-blue eyes of his, watching as his scrunched up face slowly softened as his eyes met yours. You then became acutely aware of how his tongue slid out between his lips to wet them, and how his eyelashes fluttered as he blinked several times - knowing full well what you were doing to him.

"I'm not telling you shit, Eggsy." You spoke, your voice barely above a murmur as the corner of his lips twitched up slightly.

He leaned into you a little bit more, moving his hands to rest on your hips. "It's alright, love." He answered, his voice low, matching yours, "I already got what I needed."

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as Eggsy pulled away, giving you one last grin before speeding his way out of the aisle and out of the bookstore. Mind racing, you patted down your jacket, eyes widening as you opened your jacket; only to find the file that was securely placed in the large inside pocket was gone.

Turning towards the window facing the outside of the shop, your eyes flickered from person to person before you spotted Eggsy. A mixture of disappointment, inner pain, and anger crossed your face as you watched him hurry across the street and start climbing into the passenger seat of a black car parked on the curb.

"... Oh, gosh." You muttered, shaking your head as you clicked your tongue to the roof of your mouth, "This is a damn mess..." You sighed, gritting your teeth as you clenched your fists tightly in frustration as you reached up and turned your earpiece back on; the fear of disappointing your boss rising once more. "I got some bad news, boss." You relayed, "He stole the file."

It was silent on the other line for a moment, and you felt a sense of dread creep down your spine. "He got the file?" Your boss's voice was calm, unnervingly so. "How the hell did he get it from you?" His tone suddenly became more annoyed, "I told you to watch him and just find out what he knows."

"I understand that, sir," You huffed, "I thought I could just talk it out of him... I wasn't expecting the gun-"

"Agent Montgomery." Your boss cut you off, "How long have you been an agent?"

You sighed, rubbing your cheek before getting down on your knees and collecting the gun, magazine, and stray bullet, pocketing them. "Six years, sir."

"Then you already know that you should always assume another spy has a gun or any other weapon, no matter where you go or what you do." You nodded, even though he couldn't see; his voice was stern as he continued, "Even if you think your target won't be armed, you should always assume they will be. I shouldn’t have to say this. If this happens again, you’re back on desk duty."

Running a hand through your hair, you pinched the bridge of your nose, "I'll get the file back, sir." You assured him before grabbing the books on the floor and taking them into your arms once more, "He can't get any further without the key." You finished, placing the books back on the shelf that you had gotten them from.

"Good." Your boss responded. You took a deep breath and wiped your still-warm cheeks with your palms, sighing as you straightened out your attire.

"He left in a black car, the license plate is '2FD224.'" You added while proceeding to leave the small bookstore that you made a mental note to come back and visit in the future.

Slipping your shades securely upon the bridge of your nose, your boss spoke up, "Do you know where he's heading next, Agent?"

You pursed your lips, stuffing your hands in your jacket pockets, as you venture out into the bright sun. "Italy."

---

Main Masterlist | Kingsman Masterlist

---

Should I make a part 2?

[asterias-record-shop]

Hyiaa!! If these prompts are still free can I please request

BINGO: Bimbo , Eggsy Unwin with the prompt

"I like having you covered in me. Smothered in me, full of me. Want all of you, and you need all of me." ?

Thank you for your time!

—𓆩[your majesty]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Eggsy Unwin x Fem! Princess! Bimbo! Kingsman Agent! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, maybe slight angst

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2.6K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Eggsy truly didn’t know how you were recruited into Kingsmen, but he wasn’t complaining. You helped him out a lot during training, but for fucks sake, were you blind to how Charlie and his friends looked at you? When you go missing, though, Eggsy has to save you. He couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - foul language and cursing || reader is portrayed as very naive and kind of an airhead || reader is portrayed as wearing tight and revealing clothes and likes makeup || sex positive reader || again, kinda ditsy || you’re an undercover spy princess now || you get kidnapped || edited timeline || lovesick eggsy || smut || fingering || masterbating || different positions || multiple rounds || size kink || cum kink || marking kink || rough sex turned soft sex ||

“Your mission,” Merlin spoke as you handed Eggsy, Roxy, and Charlie. “Is to win over the asset shown in the folder. And when I say win over, I do mean biblically.”

Eggsy smiles, opening and showing off the picture. “Easy. Posh girls love a little rough.”

Charlie scoffed, showing the exact same image. “We’ll see about that.”

Roxy giggled. “We certainly shall.”

“Yep! Mhm, sex! You need to fuck her,” you filled in, Charlie scoffing a slight laugh as Merlin smiled slightly and nodded. “Nicely! She’s an heiress.”

“Yes, Y/N, I’m sure they are aware she is an heiress,” Merlin spoke, a sheepish smile developing on your lips. “Anyways, you will be going to the club-”

“Oh, I love clubbing!” You say, Merlin looking over at you with a slight raise of his brows. “O-Oh I’m sorry… I’ll be quiet now.”

Eggsy smiled slightly as he stared at you, but his stomach twisted slightly at the thought of sleeping with someone else. Eggsy was faithful, he always was no matter what, and to be honest, he wasn’t very excited about sleeping with someone else when he wanted to be sleeping with you – both sexually and when he woke up.

“Anyways, you leave at 2200. Please be ready by then. Y/N, come with me.” Merlin smiled at you as you nod, smiling back.

“Yes, Merlin.”

As you both walked out, Eggsy quickly ran after you before Roxy could say anything. “Y/N! Y/N, wait up!”

“Oh, uhm,” you looked back at Merlin who nodded slightly, walking away as you turned. “What’s up, Eggsy?”

“I-I uhm… just wanted to talk to you real quick,” he whispered, looking back at the other two with a slight sigh. “If uhm… If I don’t go past this session-”

“You will,” you say, giggling. “I’m sure a rough boy like you can handle your liquor. And you’re very loyal too!”

Eggsy paused, tilting his head. “Loyal?”

You froze, humming. “Forget I said that. Anyways. Like you were saying?”

Eggsy cleared his throat, swallowing. “If uhm… I wanted to say that when I sleep with this girl,” he ignored your giggle. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“I’m aware,” you say with a shrug. “I had to sleep with a pair of guys, but not for the initiation part. The initiation part was actually easier than sleeping with those guys, how are you gonna be a crime lord with a small dick…”

He smiled as you continued to ramble off, his eyes slowly trailing over your pretty face all the way down to your tight clothes and perfect body, round and soft in every perfect place, and the thought of having your thighs around his head truly was a dream.

“Oh, I am so sorry… you had a question, what was it?” You tilted your head, smiling at him.

“I-I uhm… I just wanted to ask if after this session… if you would want to go out with me? On like… a real date?” He whispers, tilting his head slightly as you gaped at him.

“R-Really? You want… you want to take me out on a date?” You whisper, eyes narrowing. “Why? I have nothing to do with the choosing process.”

“I’m not trying to get points for the choosing process,” Eggsy clarified immediately, taking a step closer toward you. “I just… I want to take you out to see if we could… go out together as a couple.”

You paused, swallowing. “Oh…” you looked back at Merlin who was tapping on his tablet, then turned around with a nod. “I would like that. I would like that very much.”

“You would? Good. Good, perfect,” he smiled widely as you inhaled, smiling. “Go. I’m sure Merlin needs something important.”

You smiled, nodding as you leaned forward and pressed a firm kiss to his cheek. “I can’t wait.”

Eggsy smiled widely as you walked off, turning around to see Charlie and Roxy staring at him. “Did you just ask Y/N out on a date?” She spoke, tilting her head. “Really?”

You didn’t have a code name because there was no point. You were already known to the world, Princess Y/N who was the face of her kingdom, perfect in every way, though slightly naive – it didn’t make one bit of a difference to Eggsy. He truly, truly wanted to see how far he would get with you, and just maybe he would get you to the altar.

Right when they were about to leave, Eggsy noticed you in the corner, staring at yourself in the mirror as you flattened out the sides of your dress. For fucks sake, you looked absolutely stunning. Perfect in every way, the dark blue dress pooling at the floor as you slowly turned in the mirror.

He wasn’t used to seeing you in such a dark color, but you looked just as beautiful in it as you did any other color.

He couldn’t speak for a minute, but when it finally came to mind, all he could say was, “Wow.”

You looked over immediately, smiling as you walked toward him, heels clicking. “Going undercover,” you whisper, then shrug. “Kind of.”

“Well, I wish you luck,” Eggsy whispered back, trying to keep his eyes on yours and not trail over your body like a pervert. “You look… so beautiful.”

“Thank you, Eggsy, really,” you smiled back at him as he looked down at his clothes, completely underdressed compared to you. “You look great too.”

“You don’t have to lie, love,” he laughed slightly, embarrassed. How could he think a pretty girl like you would want to be with him? “W-Well… good luck on your mission. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“I could come to the barracks tonight,” you suggest, shrugging. “It’ll just be you and someone else anyways. I’ll bring you to my room.”

Eggsy smiled. “That sounds perfect, Y/N. Good luck, I’ll see you later.”

“See you, Eggsy.” You smiled as he leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before slowly turning around and walking off.

After he finished his initiation sequence, he waited in the barracks, reading a book as he slowly stroked JBs back, waiting for you to come in and take him back to your apartment for the night.

“Eggsy? Are you waiting for Y/N?” Roxy spoke, Eggsy looking up with a slight sigh.

“I was, yeah,” he whispered, shaking his head. Tomorrow was his day with Harry, and he couldn’t have thoughts of you interrupting it. “But I’m going to go to sleep now.”

“Oh, okay. Goodnight, Eggsy.”

“Goodnight, Rox.”

When morning came and Eggsy walked toward Harry who was speaking with Merlin, he inhaled as he heard your name on the TV. “Princess Y/N has been missing for three days now, gone and we haven’t been able to locate her since.”

“Y-Y/N’s missing?” His voice came out broken and hoarse, Harry turning around with a slight sigh.

“She didn’t come back from her mission last night,” Merlin says, shaking his head. “Y/N is a strong girl, she can handle herself. Now, go enjoy your day and we’ll keep looking for her.”

Oh, and then everything stacked up. With you missing, Harry being fucking murdered, figuring out that Arthur was with Valentine the entire time, he was so fucking tired. Now, about to die from Valentines dumbass soldiers, he couldn’t stop thinking about you — until the microchips came to mind.

After telling Merlin about the microchips, he could’ve sworn he heard your voice.

“Eggsy! Eggsy, is that you?!”

He quickly turned around, at this time ignoring the announcement that Valentine said and storing it for later, gasping when he saw you. “Y/N! You’re here!”

“Yes I’m here!” You giggled, sighing. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t come back and-”

“Don’t worry about that now, darling, what matters is that you’re safe,” he smiled as you leaned forward, pushing yourself closer to the opening, Eggsy doing the same before he heard Merlin’s voice.

“Hate to interrupt this lovely moment, but the fate of the world is about to be decided, Eggsy!”

Eggsy sighed as he pulled away, shaking his head. “As much as I’ve always wanted to kiss a princess, my darling, but I have to go save the world.”

You smiled, giggling. “You save the world, you can get me pregnant.”

Eggsy paused, blinking before nodding slightly. “I’ll be right back.”

You laughed, biting your lip slightly as he ran off. “Good luck!”

And as soon as he said his wicked last line to Valentine, he was already running to your cell and tried to open the door. He heard your laugh when it didn't open, clearing his throat. “Merlin, what’s the code?”

Merlin laughed and told him, Eggsy smirking as he slipped off his glasses and slowly walked in, holding back a loud groan when he saw your legs spread and your fingers working your cunt as you groaned loudly. “Fucking finally Eggsy, what took you so long?”

He laughed as he set down the champagne and the champagne flutes on the table, slipping off his tie before you pull your fingers out of your cunt and quickly moved to your feet, stumbling slightly before falling into his chest. “Are you alright, darling?” He laughed slightly as you giggled.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just… need you. So bad. Gotta hold up my end of the deal,” you tilted your head, winking up at him with another giggle. “You gotta put a baby in me, Unwin.”

He groaned loudly as he easily lifted you up, moving you back to the bed and dropping you gently onto the bed. He watched as you quickly parted your legs, sighing as Eggsy kicked off his shoes – carefully of course – taking off his suit before you leaned forward and held his tie. “Keep this on.”

“Whatever you say, princess,” he whispers, slipping his button down off from under his tie that you immediately took hold of and pulled him down. He leaned down, kissing you and savoring your lips on his as you moved your legs to wrap your legs around his waist. “For fucks sake, never thought I’d be kissing an actual princess.”

You giggled as he pushed down his slacks, pulling him down for another kiss and rutting your hips into his. “Oh please, please… just forget about the fact that I’m a princess and just fuck me. Not like a prince, I need that roughness.”

“Whatever you say, darling,” he whispers back, smiling as he watches you slowly lay back. “Are you sure you want it rough? Darling, I-”

“I’m a princess, Eggsy, just not one made out of glass,” you whisper back, smiling. “Fuck me, Eggsy, hard.”

Oh, you truly didn’t have to tell him twice.

He was quick to snap his hips into you, groaning loudly as your head tilted back, leaning down to tuck his face under your chin. His hips moved rough and quick, fucking into you like he was infatuated. In a way, he was, his mind blurring in pleasure as moans unconsciously fell from his lips, your cunt tight and perfect around him.

His cock was perfect inside of you, just the right length but heavy on the girth, thick and filling you up just right and absolutely fucking perfect. You gasped as you tilted your head back, savoring the feeling of him inside of you. Even with his strong and rough thrusts, he was still holding himself back, and you could feel it every time he held back from slamming his pelvis into yours.

It makes you take matters into your own hands, easily pushing him over and straddling his hips. “I said that I want rough Eggsy,” you whisper, placing your hands on his perfectly toned chest, roughly rolling your hips as you threw back your head. Oh, it was finally perfect. You could feel him in all of the places you desperately wanted him to be, letting out a loud groan as you rut your hips roughly into his. “I don’t want you to hold back, please, Eggsy.”

He groaned, his head tilting back just like yours, his hands automatically finding your hips to help guide you into his hips. Sadly, they were trying to get you to go slower. “Fuck, darling, don’t do this to me. I don’t want to hurt you, please baby-”

“I want it to be rough,” you responded, gasping as his hips roughly snap into yours. It was perfect, just like you wanted to, but it was a singular movement. “No! Eggsy please, please don’t stop!”

“Fuck, please… please, you need to tell me if I hurt you. Promise?” His voice was breathless as you nod, pulling his hands upward toward your tits.

“I promise. Just fuck me, Eggsy.”

This time he really didn’t hold back, immediately twisting you to lay on your back, inhaling as he snapped his hips forward to fuck you, rough and hard just like you wanted him to. He didn’t hold back, his hands holding your hips roughly. Oh, it was perfect and everything you wanted.

He was rough just like you wanted him to be, your body bouncing along with every thrust, head tilting back with pornographic moans falling from your mouth. The way you were being fucked was as though Eggsy was never given the chance to let loose, using your body as a way to escape.

His roughness wasn’t subjected to just his thrusts, leaning down and marking up every inch of your skin with hickies and bite marks from his mouth, his rough hands rubbing and gripping your body. You were basically sobbing when he was done, not even done as he panted above you, his cum dripping down your ass as he pumped his cock.

“Can I keep going, baby? Please, darling? I want to keep fucking you, want to fuck you so bad,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss against your ear. “Please?”

“I want you to keep going,” you didn’t care how sore you were, how full your stomach was of his cum. You felt sticky, gasping as he slid back inside of you, rolling his hips softly instead of what he was previously doing. “N-No, no, roughly. Rougher. Please.”

“You’re sure you can handle it?” His voice wasn’t taunting you, his lips pressing soft kisses to your skin. “I like having you covered in me. Smothered in me, full of me. Want all of you, and you need all of me. But I can’t give it to you if it’s gonna hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me,” you whispered back, shaking your head as you kissed his lips softly. “You could never hurt me. Keep going.”

He smiled, nodding. “Whatever you say, your majesty.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “It’s your highness. I’m not queen yet.”

“You’re almost there,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Your majesty.”

“There you go.”

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© asterias-record-shop

[thischarmingmandalorian]

Like A Man Without Skin

Ghost!Agent Whiskey x Reader

Summary: Your new apartment is haunted by the ghost of the sexiest man you've ever seen. My entry for @quinnnfabrgay-writes and @hauntedhowlett-writes Monster Smash!

Pairing: Ghost!Agent Whiskey x Reader

Rating: Explicit!

Warnings: Just… so much dirty talk. Pet names (Sugar, baby, sweet girl, good girl), groping, fingering, oral (f receiving but super briefly), pussy pronouns, is it vouyerism if you're watching each other?, obviously monster fucking, reader very briefly pulls her own hair? Not very heavily edited, I tried my best but if I read it one more time I'm gonna get embarrassed. Also very much a believer I ghosts (ask me about my own haunted apartments!) but I don't know how that shit works suspend your disbelief, babes!

Word Count: 3.1k

The first night, you blamed the house settling.

You had just moved to a new apartment and always had a hard time sleeping in a new place. You weren't used to the shadows that danced across your walls, that just repainted "landlord special" smell, or whatever that sound was.

That incessant crack that echoed through your living room, right outside your bedroom door, for hours. Literally fucking hours. You wanted to believe it was the floorboards creaking. This apartment was old, part of a three-story row house in a big city, and if the sleaziness of your landlord was anything to go by, it definitely wasn't up to code. You'd actually be more worried if it was silent in your apartment.

But still, the crack that… cracked… just outside your bedroom door was unnerving to say the least. It didn't sound like any "settling house" noise you were used to, but any alternative scared you too much.

That night you slept with the light on and a desk chair propped against your doorknob.

You got used to the crack in the living room after a few nights. You'd resigned yourself to the fact that it wasn't the house settling, but what it was eluded you. It never stopped, but it became a normal part of your nightly routine. Every night around 10 pm, when you'd leave your hall bathroom and shut the bedroom door behind you, it would begin.

Crack

And then a pause. You'd count to 30, and

Crack

This went on until you fell asleep. You soon started to count the noises behind your door until you dozed off - your record was 20 cracks.

On day five you got curious. Why was the noise only at night? Why was it always in the same spot? Most importantly, what the hell was making that noise?

You weren't someone who found the idea of ghosts ridiculous. In fact, the thought of being haunted seemed like a fun story to tell your friends over drinks on your usual Friday night bar crawl. If it was a ghost making that noise in the living room, that would be fine. You just didn't love not knowing.

That fifth night you performed your nightly routine like normal. Skincare, brushed teeth, pajamas. You shut the bathroom light off and walked down the hall to your bedroom. Only tonight, you left your bedroom door open. It was 9:55, so you sat upright on your bed and waited for the crack.

10 pm came and went. 10:30, 11. The crack never came. Dejected and confused, you finally shut the lights off and laid down to sleep.

You fell into a restless slumber, tossing and turning. The lack of… crack… bothered you. Why did it stop? What the hell was it?!

In your fitful sleep, you were acutely aware of the fact that your hair had found its way in front of your face, tickling your nose. You woke very briefly to push it away, but stopped any movement the second you were conscious.

Because you felt the slightest touch sweeping your hair from your face. Which was troubling because you were, of course, alone.

You shot up in bed, slamming the light switch and illuminating the room in a soft glow. You were still alone. But then… who, or what, had touched you?

"What the fuck is happening?" you mused out loud, expecting to be met with silence. Except a new sound emerged from the empty room -

Shhhhh.

"Don't tell me to 'shhh!' You 'shhh!'"

You felt crazy shouting at no one. Even crazier when you heard the noise again.

Shhhhh.

You realized this wasn't just a sound; it was… a voice. So it was a ghost!

Internally high-fiving yourself for solving this mystery, you remembered it was the middle of the night, and you had work in the morning.

"We're not done here," you said to your invisible guest, "we'll talk about this tomorrow."

Somehow you willed yourself to shut the light back off and lay back down. Still uncomfortable with the silence, you set your phone on the nightstand and let it cycle through a playlist of ambient noise. You're back to dozing off when you hear it again.

Shhhhh.

This time the sound is joined by the feeling of someone stroking your hair. A gentle, feather-light touch against your head, sometimes letting a finger trail down your cheek. You didn't want to admit it was soothing, and you already felt crazy. Thinking your apartment was haunted was one thing, but talking to the ghost seemed like a bad way to handle it. But you were oddly comforted by the presence you felt.

"You can stay until I fall asleep, then you gotta go for tonight," you whisper. The phantom hand stills on the side of your face as you speak, resuming it's soothing strokes through your hair once you finish addressing it.

The touch continues until you fall asleep, and so does the new noise.

Shhhhh.

Shhhhh.

Right before you fell into a deep sleep, you swear the noise changed a little bit.

Shhhhh.

Shhhhh.

"Sugar."

The next morning you want to chalk up the weirdness of the night before to a dream, but you know that's not the case. You wake up well-rested and ready to start the day, and notice your bedroom door had somehow shut during the night.

"Thanks for shutting the door," you speak into the empty bedroom, opening your closet to pick out an outfit for the day. You weren't expecting a response to your gratitude, but you smile when a familiar crack sounded from the living room.

You rush to open the bedroom door, knowing the living room will be empty, but knowing your ghost was there. "Hey, crack once for yes, twice for no, ok?" You feel ridiculous until one crack echoes through the room.

While you get ready for work, you play 20 questions.

"Are you a ghost?"

Crack.

"Are you… a woman?"

Crack. Crack.

Interesting… a dude ghost.

"Did you leave after I fell asleep like I asked?"

One incredibly quick crack. You appreciate him respecting you.

By now you're ready to change into your work clothes, so you decide to up the ante. "Do you watch when I get dressed?"

The two cracks couldn't have come quicker. You grin, loving that you have a gentlemanly ghost. But you want to have some fun. It's been a while since you've met a nice, living guy, and having a ghost seems like the perfect opportunity for some built-in male attention.

"Do you… want to watch me get dressed?"

Your smirk falls when no noise is made in response. You kick yourself for scaring him away. You start to stumble over an apology when you hear the same noise from last night.

"Sugar…"

"You talk?! What the hell, dude? I've been having you crack that… whatever it is, when you could've been talking to me this whole time?"

"Sorry, Sugar."

You soften. "Why wouldn't you talk to me before?"

"Too weak."

An interesting response. "What gives you energy?"

"Your attention."

Well. That felt nice to hear. "Lucky for you, dude, I have no one else to talk to around here. If it's attention you need, attention is what you'll get! Now, back to the task at hand… do you want to watch me get dressed?"

This time, a noise you haven't heard yet. A whimper.

"Please, Sugar."

You smirk, moving to stand in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom. Slowly, you bunch your oversized t shirt up over your ass, draw it above your hips, and fist the material up under your breasts, pausing to admire your own figure in the mirror. You turn to the side, watching as your reflection shakes its ass gently.

It's weird flirting with someone you can't see and barely hear. You're feeling both emboldened and shy, sexy and self-conscious. "How's this?"

"Teasin' me?"

You grin. "You said you need my attention to get strong! The longer this takes, the more attention I'm giving you! I'll ask again: this good?"

Crack. Yes.

"What the hell is that noise, anyway?" you ask, mercifully removing your shirt entirely, standing in front of your mirror in nothing but your underwear.

"Uh… a…" another whimper interrupted your ghost's train of thought. "Whip."

"A whip?!"

Crack. Yes.

"Why does a ghost have a whip?" you ask idly, thumbing the hemline of your underwear before sliding them down your legs with a shimmy.

"Long story. How long d'ya have, Sugar?"

You grab for your phone on the nightstand, realizing that if you tease this ghost anymore you'll be late for work. "No time! Last looks, dude! Gotta get dressed!" You pose for a second with your hands on your knees, bent at the waist with your ass wiggling before pulling on your work clothes.

"Really, Sugar? You're gonna leave?"

"I gotta work if I want to be able to afford this place! You don't want me to have to move out so soon, do you? There's so much more attention I want to give you," you pout into the mirror, bottom half clothed, briefly pausing to give your ghost one last look of your bare chest.

"Before you leave, Sugar, let me touch you."

You let your hands fall to your sides, remembering the featherlight touches against your cheek the night before, shivering at the thought of feeling it again. "Go ahead," you whisper into the empty room.

The touch is similar to the one last night, only now it seems stronger. This ghost wasn't kidding about attention making him stronger. Even though you couldn't see him, you can feel his presence behind you. You can feel fingers skating up your arms, stopping at the elbows and trailing back down. The touch disappears only to return on your hips, sliding from the small of your back to wrap around your front. You lift your arms slightly to accommodate him as his hands trail further up your torso, stopping just below the swell of your chest. You feel the ghost hesitate. Normally, if this were happening with someone you could see, you'd lace your fingers through his and coax his hand up to where you need to feel him, but this was all so new still. The ghost can touch you, but can you touch him? Would it look stupid to grope around for his hand? You decide your voice is your greatest asset at this moment.

"I said go ahead."

A groan erupted from behind you, right against your ear, making you shudder. You could almost feel breath against your neck, could almost feel the weight of a head against your shoulder as the ghostly hands dragged themselves up to grope at your chest. Your head falls back and you let out a sigh, your eyes falling closed. The hands tweak at your nipples before soothing the sting with a swipe of a thumb.

You're brought out of your trance when your phone rings. You feel the phantom hands retreat from your chest, a sigh heaving from behind you. Reaching to the bed to grab your phone, you see it's your boss calling. "I've gotta take this, I'm so sorry - hello? Yeah I'm just about to - oh? That sucks, what's the - yeah, no I can do that. OK, see ya!" You hang up and throw your phone back on the bed. The clothes you had yet to put on stay neglected, and what you have put on gets shucked off your body with haste. "You still here?" you call into the seemingly empty room.

Crack.

"Dude, now that I know you can talk, I'm not accepting whip cracks for an answer."

"Still here, Sugar. What was that about?"

"Good news! A pipe burst at my office - I get to 'work from home' today," you explain, making air quotes around "work from home." You know you're not getting shit done today. "So get back over here, we're not done."

You're still standing in front of your full length mirror, admiring your naked form when something starts to… happen… behind you. At first it's a thin mist, then it slowly turns into a more solid, human form. You stare in the reflection dumbfounded as your ghost materializes - he's still somewhat transparent, very obviously not human or living, but shit.

He's hot.

He's dressed in a cowboy hat and two-piece suit. And he wasn't kidding about the whip. It was curled neatly with the handle stuck in his back pocket.

"Oh my god. My house is haunted by the sexiest man alive," you muse, forgetting for a second that he can hear you. The ghost meets your eyes in the mirror's reflection, lips curling into a smirk as he tips his hat.

"Well I'm not alive, but that's mighty kind of you to say, Sugar," the ghost replies, moving closer to you again, "can I finish what I started, now that you don't have to leave? Please? It'd make me a very happy man."

You nod, watching in the mirror as the ghost reaches for you again. He skips the pretense this time, hands going straight to your chest, resuming his kneading and pinching.

"Wha- shit - what's your name? Seems backwards to let you touch me like this when I don't know anything about you," you tease.

"Whiskey. Agent Whiskey, Sugar."

You giggle. "Agent Whiskey isn't a name. What's your real name, and what are you an agent of?"

"Jack Daniels. And I'm stuck haunting this apartment, we have time to learn everything about each other. Stop distractin' me," the ghost punctuates his request with a nibble to your earlobe.

His hands, his mouth, while mostly solid, feel tingly, cold in a way that's akin to walking through fog. His breath is warm as it huffs against your neck, a delicious push and pull of sensation. He kisses down your neck and lands a bite to your shoulder, growling quietly as you moan in front of him.

"Ain't we a sight to see, Sugar? Keep your eyes forward."

Your eyes blink back open as you meet Jack's eyes in the mirror. You watch as his hands skate down your torso, hesitating close to where you want his touch the most. "Can you… will I be able to see you…?" You're not sure how being a ghost wearing clothes works, and you don't know how to ask; you hope he gets the hint.

"The suit stays on; sorry, baby. Gonna have to use your imagination. But, if it's any consolation, I used to look real nice under all this."

"I believe you. Now quit stalling and touch me," you make an experimental grab for his ghostly hand, delighted to be able to curl your fingers around his wrist and tugging it down, down to where he dips into your folds, fingers gathering the slick from your entrance and dragging it up against your clit.

"Let's move to the bed, Sugar. Need to see her."

You waste no time pulling Jack by the wrist to your bed. You prop yourself up against your pillow, legs spread wide and face flush with arousal and anticipation. You watch Jack as he stands at the foot of your bed, gazing intently at your body laid out for him.

"Jesus, Sugar. She's drippin' - it all for me?"

You give Jack a curt nod, beckoning him closer with your outstretched hand. "Come here and touch me, please." You see Jack's face change; where there was once a pained look of arousal, there's now a feral darkness that excites you.

"Since you asked so nicely, baby."

Jack puts his knees onto the edge of your bed and you feel the faintest dip on the mattress. Your breath hitches as you watch him crawl on hands and knees to situate himself between your legs. One hand holds tight to your hip while the other dips once again into your wetness, pulling away and chuckling when you try to buck up into his touch.

"Gotta be patient, beautiful. Your attention made me stronger, but I'll never be back at a hundred percent. 'm tryin'a hold you down, play along."

You agree to Jack's game and push your hips down into the mattress, curling your hand around his at your side. "I'll be good, I promise."

Jack smirks and bends his head down to whisper praise close to your ear, "that's my good fucking girl."

Jack punctuates his words with two ghostly fingers plunging into you. You moan loudly while your free hand grapples for purchase, twisting into your hair and gently pulling. "How long…"

"More than long enough, Sugar."

You swat at Jack's arm; he grins and moves his hand from your hip to slowly circle your clit. "That's not - oh fuck - what I meant. How long have you - uh huh, just like that - been stuck here?"

"Tryin'a focus, woman. Ask me in five minutes."

"Won't have to wait that long, Jack. Not gonna last."

Jack's thumb on your clit speeds up. He adds a third finger to the two working you open, the stretch delicious. Cold and warm, solid and ethereal. You could get used to this.

Suddenly Jack shifts and takes his thumb off your clit. You begin to protest, but find yourself gazing down at him, his face now level with your dripping pussy.

"Just wanna see if I still got it, Sugar."

You feel a sudden emptiness as Jack pulls his fingers free from you and you're about to protest, but before any words can leave your mouth he licks a wide stripe from your entrance to your clit, pointing his tongue at the last second and flicking it against you once, twice…

"Fuck, I'm… shit. Jack, I'm…" Your orgasm hits so hard that what you are is incoherent. So fucked out you can't think straight. If someone asked you your name at this very moment, you wouldn't remember.

"Oh, I know you're comin', sweet girl, ain't gotta tell me. I've got a front row seat to the show. Let go, Sugar. I've got ya."

You ride the wave of pleasure for what feels like forever, hips rolling and panting, soft moans escaping from deep in your throat as you come down. When your eyes open, you find Jack staring intently at your pussy, watching it leak and pulse around nothing.

"So fucking gorgeous, Sugar. Could get used to this."

You instinctually grab at Jack's hair, gently tugging to get him to your eye level. You feel his touch against your face, gentle and cool. "You better get used to it," you smirk, "you're kinda stuck here. Don't know how hauntings work, but trust that I'm not gonna try and get rid of you. Like, ever. Not after that."

[lotusbxtch]

Stripper whiskey!

Hi babe! @baronessvonglitter also asked this one, so I'm tagging her as well.

Stripper!Whiskey is going to be a one-shot. Reader is in Vegas for her best friend's bachelorette party - albeit begrudgingly, it's not really Reader's scene. Especially not the male strip shows, but it was on the bride's list of non-negotiables. Reader tags along to the cowboy-themed revue, settling in for a night of cheesy, corny, oiled men gyrating... when onto the stage pops Whiskey, the show's star performer as of late - and it's only then that Reader realizes that it's her childhood crush, "the one that got away", Jack, up there with assless chaps. And Jack hasn't forgotten Reader either.

Thanks to @mountainsandmayhem @for-a-longlongtime and @alltheirdamn for helping me to flesh out what direction I want to go with this fic! Leave me a comment if you want to be added to the tag list when I write this (who knows when that will be though lol).

If you want to see more of my WIP titles: click here

In case you are interested: @mermaidgirl30 @joelmillerisapunk @almostfoxglove @sin-djarin @itwasntimethatdidit40 @reggiesfilthylittlesecret @strang3lov3 @luxurychristmaspudding @arcanefox207 @legendary-pink-dot @guiltyasdave @pedropeach @perotovar

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒

pairing: jack daniels x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni

word count: 2.5k

summary: jack comes back home only to find you in a compromising position.

warnings: established relationship, female masturbation, getting caught, nipple play, pet names (darling, sweet/good girl, sweetheart), no y/n, bondage (i have dreams about that whip, i had to), edging, piv, come eating, some hurt/comfort vibes towards the end

additional warning: alright since I know not everyone can do this physically I'll just say it here just in case; reader does suck her own breast before jack catches her but there are no physical descriptions other than that, enjoy xx

a/n: this ended up being more filthier than I thought please don't look at me, my period is close

**divider by @firefly-graphics 💗

God, you missed him. 

You missed the feel of his rough hands coursing down your skin. His soft plush lips going hungrily down your neck. His words laced with something dark and sweet whispered into your ears over and over again. 

Jack has been gone for just a week and from what he’d told you, he might be gone for another week. You’ve been counting the days, waiting for the phone to call every night at 7 pm. He could hear the need in your voice, the ache. Jack had a sinful mouth. A mouth that could make the devil itself blush. Dolly enough you felt the tremors of hic vocal cord even more through the speakers, his hushed tone urging you to move your fingers faster, to bury them into the sweet pussy that he was missing around his cock. 

You shiver at the thought of it. 

You aren’t proud of your position right now. Your legs bare and spread, fingers drawing slow circles as you lift a breast to your mouth, ignoring the crick in your neck you suck. Your nipple hardens between the gentle bite of your teeth, a moan seeping into the flesh with the flick of your tongue. It shouldn’t feel this good. Despite being alone you feel embarrassed. How can you not? But in your defense, as you do it, you only think of him. His mouth, his tongue, his lips. You release the tight grip of your lips and flatten your tongue against the peak, your hot breath catches against the spit-slick skin, a whimper echoes from the back of your throat. 

The familiar heat of your orgasm starts to build, it’s a slow climb, one that makes you raise your hips off the bed to meet the tantalizing brush of your fingers. Your eyes flutter closed and you drag your tongue around your nipple, gently biting into it. 

“Jack,” you breathe out, unfiltered. “God, Jack, it feels so good.” 

You don’t hear the door, you don’t hear the familiar steps nearing the bedroom. 

You don’t hear him. 

“What’re you doin’?” 

You freeze. Your building orgasm dies between your legs, your fingers hovering helplessly above your throbbing clit. Your body screams, muscles grow taut and uncomfortable. Gently, you rock your hips forward and hope he doesn’t notice. Your eyes might be wide but you’re not looking at him. You can’t. His gaze is like hot iron pressed against your already burning skin. Your lungs shake. 

You swallow, your answer comes out broken, “Nothing.”  

“Really? Nothin’?” he steps closer, head cocked to the side. There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, one that makes you squeamish. “Seems like to me you have a tit in your mouth darlin’. I wouldn’t exactly call that nothin’.”

“I—” You pull your hands away and draw your knees up to your chest. His eyes drop to your burning core, hunger dilating his pupils. “I missed you,” you mutter, not knowing what else to say. 

“Oh, I can see that.” 

The bed dips under his weight, two fingers curl under your chin, and pull your gaze away from the spot on the wall. Your lips part when you meet his gaze, your body warming and melting like ice cream left under a summer shadow. His smile is crooked, his eyes growing soft the longer they stay on you. 

“I wanted to surprise you,” he says. “That’s why I’m home early. But really, you should’ve just called me sweetheart, I would’ve loved to help you out. You know that.” 

He removes his hat, exposing a messy mop of dark hair that curls right above his ears. A smile touches your lips. “I know that, it kinda happened spontaneously.” 

Jack cups the underside of the breast that was still wet from your tongue. He slightly lifts it, weighing it under his palm. 

“I liked you callin’ out to me. Definitely helps the ego.” 

You don’t answer, only watch with a hungry gaze of your own. His eyes are fixed on the rise and fall of your chest, sliding his hand up, he swipes a thumb over the sensitive peak. 

Heat drips down your spine, gathers at your tailbone, and warms you from the inside out. Your lips are pressed together when he pinches, your moan caught against your teeth. His grin is wicked, devilish. 

“I wanna play with you, sweetheart,” his grin widens when your breath catches in your throat. He leans forward, lips only an inch away, breath hot across your skin. “Will you be good for me?” 

Your sense of time and space has been completely destroyed by the man underneath you, his hips pressed snug against your own, lips latched on your collarbone. He sucks and bites, pulling you apart with nothing but his mouth. You want to touch him—Oh, how your body aches for it. To wrap your hands around his thick cock and pump him until strings of come drip down your knuckles. 

But you can’t. 

You fucking can’t. 

The leather of the whip digs painfully into your wrists, your skin feeling raw and open. Every time he forces your hips into an agonizingly slow grind, the thick handle hits the soft curve of your ass with every move. And the most painful part, the part that makes you wetter than you’ve ever been—he’s not inside of you. His cock drags between your soaked folds, bulbous head catching your clit every time. A generous amount of precum is gathered at the soft swell of his stomach, trickling down to the sheets. He must be painfully hard at this point but he’s still going. He feasts upon your chest, tongue swirling and pressing hard against your nipple while his hand kneads the flesh from underneath. 

It’s too much. Your head spins, a desperate sound twisting through you. His chuckle vibrates through your skin and he slides a hand up the back of your neck, fingers curling. 

You’re shaking now. Trembling. Burning. 

He kisses along your collarbone, wet lips leaving shiny streaks, his voice all gravel. “You know,” he purrs. “When I saw you like that, the desperation you had for me. . .” he cuts off, pressing his lips to yours and licking himself deep into your mouth before continuing. “I wanted to fuck you right that second, darlin’. Nearly lost all control. You drive me insane.” 

“The feelings mutual,” you gasp, grinding down on him. His thighs tighten underneath you, a groan leaving his lips. “So why don’t you just fuck me. Please, Jack, I need you.” 

“You need me, hm?” he smooths your hair, kisses your cheek. It’s incredibly tender compared to the tight grip his whip has on your wrists. Your back arches instinctively, pushing more of yourself into his hands. “I could keep you like this for hours. Just like this, writhing on my lap, beggin’ for me, achin’ for me. I’m very tempted you know? I did say I wanted to play.” 

A whimper scratches your throat. Your head drops to his shoulder and you find solace in the crook of his neck. His scent fills your lungs, gunpowder, leather, and the earth itself. Safe. So safe. You kiss him, drag your lips across the tender skin, leaving goosebumps. His hands move to your arms that are tied behind, his nails skimming down until fingers curl around the knot of the whip. 

“We can play,” you whisper, kissing him again. “I just want to make you happy.” 

“You do,” he answers quickly. You can almost hear the frown in his voice. “Of course you do. You’re my sweet girl, you always make me happy.” 

Jack’s fingers start working the knot, you quickly pull back, “Don’t remove it,” you blurt out. His brows raise with amusement, a toothy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Cheeks burning you look away, “I want you to fuck me like this,” you utter with a jutted bottom lip. 

“God, I need to be inside you,” he drawls, accent thick, and everything in you grows taut. “Been jerking myself almost every night thinkin’ about this sweet pussy.” 

“Really?” 

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he smirks, helping you raise to your knees. “You’re not the only one with a vivid imagination.” 

Jack positions his length against you, his fingers biting into your waist, watching the slow fall of your hips. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, biting painfully. You’re quick to move, dragging your nose down his, you lick at his mouth and urge him to release the abused flesh. He does so with a breathy moan, hips stuttering deeper into you as you suck it between your own lips, easing the pain of his bite. 

He takes your neck in his hands, thumbs caressing over the sensitive skin of your throat. His touch grows more insistent as he continues to trace circles and feathery touches up your jaw and around your ear and back down again. You hear him groan, deep and low, sending thrills through your body. 

Jack shifts his hips up into you, pushing himself closer to the entrance of your heat. He traces the curves of your body, pressing against you with every inviting motion. You can feel every inch of him pressing firmly inside of you. You groan at the stretch, you’ll never get sick of this. Never get sick of the feeling of being so full. He hooks a finger into one of the loops of the whip and pulls you down, hips flush against his. Your lungs convulse, breath hitching, pleasure burning you from the inside out. Your lips drop open and he shoves his tongue inside, ravaging your mouth and swallowing your cries.  

He guides the jump of your hips, snapping his hips at the same time you drop yours. Tears blur your vision, overwhelmed. Jack’s gaze is fixed on where you two connect, watching his cock disappear into the tight fist of your cunt. His movements grow harder and more aggressive, pushing you to your limits. His breath tangles with yours, his hands alternately caressing and holding tight to your wrists while his hips rotate into you. The room is filled with the sounds of rugged breaths. 

“Atta girl. That’s it, feels good don’t it?” 

“So good,” you say hoarsely, rolling your hips. “Don’t stop.” 

Jack fully laughs at that, it’s boisterous and loud, a small smile of your own makes its way to your lips. You would’ve laughed too if it wasn’t for his cock sliding in and out of you, a shudder rolls down your spine. He quiets down, eyes gazing deep into your own. 

“Oh sweetheart,” he says, voice dropping into something dangerous. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”  

He moves inside you, pushing himself faster and deeper. His thrusts become more powerful, almost urgent as he works to take you to the brink of ecstasy. His hands reach for your wrists, tightening their embrace and pinning you down to him, hammering up into you. All your focus narrows on the feeling of him. Heat builds between your thighs, cock drilling into you without hesitation. 

Finally, as the intensity builds to its peak, Jack's thrusts become almost frantic, and with each movement, waves of pleasure ripple through your body, leaving you gasping for breath. You’re both lost in each other. 

Your moans become louder and higher pitched as he drives himself ever deeper into you. You feel his velvety hardness pulsing inside of you, his hands grasping tightly—and he breaks you. 

Your entire body jerks, every fiber of your being coming to a sudden halt only to come back alive again. You think you cry out his name but your mouth is dry, your throat sore. He hisses at the way you squeeze him tight, your walls pulsing and gushing around him. You press your nails into your palms and a moment later Jack forces your hands open, the sharp ends finding purchase above his hands instead. 

“That’s it,” he sings his praise. “I got you, sweetheart, you feel so good, so fuckin’ good.” 

Jack withdraws slightly, still deeply embedded within you, before gently pushing you back down on the mattress. Your shoulders ache at the pressure yet you welcome it, pleasure still heavy in your veins. 

“I wanna come over your tits, darlin’,” he nips at your chin. “Is that okay?” 

With a moan, you nod. You manage to push yourself up, capturing his lips in a quick kiss before you fall back down again. He smiles down at you, eyes shining. 

Your eyes grow wide at the sight of him, strong body straddling your stomach, his flushed cock in his fist. He strokes himself, thumb swiping the slit as he pushes the head against the swell. Jack groans at the added pressure, gently rocking his hips. Slick trickles down from your core, forcing a shudder up your spine. Jack’s breathing goes ragged, eyes finding yours as his chin drops with a moan rattling his chest. 

He spills himself between your breasts, he grinds helplessly against them, cock twitching and throbbing as his come lands on your chest, throat, and chin. Your tongue slips from between your lips by instinct, sadly you can’t reach the traces of him. 

“Fuck,” he rasps, deftly bending over. He leaves you short of breath as he cleans you up with his mouth, licking himself clean off your skin. “Come here,” he utters, holding you by the shoulders and pressing your mouths together. He slips his tongue between your lips along with the remnants of himself. You groan at the taste. Bittersweet. Filthy. You swallow him down, tongue searching for more. “Greedy little thing,” he mutters between breaths. 

His kiss lingers for a moment until finally, he pulls away and smiles. Then, once again, your surroundings shift. You find yourself buried in his chest, your arms and legs angled awkwardly. 

“Let me get you out of this,” he says, untying you. “And then let’s shower, put some ointment over these marks.” 

You hear a hint of remorse at the end, brows furrowing, you cradle his face between your sweaty palms. With smushed cheeks, he gives you a confused look. 

“I wanted this, Jack,” you say clearly. “Don’t feel bad.” 

“I don’t,” he grunts. When you give him a look he relents. “I don’t, really,” he tenderly touches your wrists and gathers your hands between his own. “I enjoy it but I can’t help feelin’ a bit bad. It just happens.” 

“Come’re.” 

You pull him into a tight embrace, ignoring the soreness of limbs and burns. Jack buries his nose in your neck and inhales you, deep breaths raising goose bumps over your skin. Your fingers snake into his hair and you gently scratch his scalp, he hums, laying a kiss on your shoulder. 

“You take plenty of care of me. Just know that, okay?” his arms tighten around you. “Feel what you’re feeling but just now that I’m happy and satisfied.” 

“Okay,” he swallows, pulling away from you. “Now let’s get cleaned.” 

By the time you both climb into the bath, you’re both smiling, giggling (more so you rather than Jack), and briefing each other about all the things that happened while Jack was away. 

[penvisions]

buckles and barley {new series masterlist}

Fandom: Kingsmen - The Golden Circle

Pairing: Rancher! Jack Daniels x Ranchhand! Reader

Summary: You seek out a secluded ranch outside the city limits at the behest of your ill father. In search of one of his old friends he had lost contact with after returning from a deployment and a catastrophic fallout. But instead you find the charming, dedicated, and rather handsome son of the man who had already passed, Jack Daniels. A night of bonding over the iron wills of your fathers and you find yourself falling into bed with him, only to be called away by the hospital that your father had been rushed too.

Devastated but free from the ties of your former life, you return to the ranch a changed woman. With the help of a man who holds his own grief, you learn how to tend to the horses and maintain the land. Together, you dance around each other as the seasons change. Cultivating a life that you never envisioned for yourself.

Wordcount: undetermined

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, death of a loved one, strained family dynamics, grief, implied verbal abuse, implied anger issues, allusions to past relationships, reader finds herself, reader takes control of her life, minor injuries, accident prone reader, allusions to infidelity, miscommunication, pining, mutual pining, protective jack, adult content, sexual content, smut, p in v, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), more to be added as the story develops!

A/N: excited to delve into this once {by the grit of sandpaper} is concluded. will be doing a little bit of a different approach with this one, it's a new pedro character for me and i wanted to try writing a majority of this one before i begin posting to help establish a solid posting schedule!

ao3 link || navigation || main masterlist || ko-fi

sneakie peek || fic teaser || chapter one header

[angstea]

Figured I'd do one of these things. Give me a character/fandom/ship/whatever and a number from 1-100 and I'll write a few sentences based on that and whatever song from my Spotify Wrapped the number corresponds to

[sunshine-blastbeat]

Hacking The Heart

Pairing: Merlin (Hamish Mycroft) x Fem!Reader

AU where Roxy and Merlin survive the Golden Circle

Summary: It's been some time since the incident at Poppy Land, but the Kingsmen are still understaffed, so the Statesmen send their personal tech wiz, Agent Vodka, out to lend the knights at the round table a helping hand.

Author's note: this whole thing is inspired by several other Merlin fics that I really liked, as well as being heavily inspired by this video from PebblesASMR. It's a good listen, so I suggest you check it out!

Word count: 3.3k+

Alias: Agent Vodka

Age: 25

Skills: Hacking and technology 

Alliance: Statesmen 

~~~

Y/N was a… troubled child, to say the least. She grew up in the suburbs, usually getting into more trouble than her grades would reflect. Fights, stealing, and a slew of other infractions dirtied her reputation in her teen years, so much so that she was sent to military school by her father. There, she learned combat, how to use her hacking skills for good, and a fair bit of manners.

At the age of 20, she had found herself back in trouble, that was, hacking the local school district’s database; taking money from teenagers who needed their grades raised or just needed their files cleaned up. One day while doing her normal hacking routine, she stumbled onto the payroll side of the servers, noticing how one of the superintendents was getting way more money than they should have been. A little more digging found that funds intended for renovations were being funneled straight into the bank account of this superintendent. So, a few screenshots were taken and sent off to the local government, anonymously of course, and within the next week, said superintendent was released from their duties.  

It then only took a few days after for Y/N to have a knock on her door. A well dressed woman stood on Y/N’s front porch, much too small to be a detective. She introduced herself as Agent Whisky, stating that her organization had taken note of her recent activities, and that Y/N’s skills could be useful to them. Y/N was skeptical at first, seeing as a random woman was wanting to take her away to an undisclosed location, but after a few hours of talking Y/N decided to trust Whisky. 

That was about 5 years ago. Now working with the Statesmen, Y/N goes by the code name Agent Vodka, but she is usually called ‘Vod’ by her teammates.  Y/N had gone on several missions, but was soon put into the position of ‘Tech Wiz’, as the team liked to call it; hacking into databases, conducting remote surveillance, and just conducting general tech needs for the Statesmen. 

One day, while doing some maintenance work on some of the tech for an upcoming mission, Champ, the Statesmen’s leader, entered the lab. 

“We need to ship you off to London.” Champ said, in this thick country accent. 

“I’m sorry?” Y/N said, needing more information on this sudden task.

“Our brother organization, the Kingsmen, are still having problems getting their numbers back up after the Poppy incident.” Champ said as he slowly walked across the room, “We need to send you over to them to help out with a mission they are currently on, and considering your skill sets, you're the best candidate for the job.”

Y/N let out a long sigh as she leaned back in her chair. “When does the jet take off?”

“0600 tomorrow morning. I suggest you pack a raincoat, I hear it gets mighty wet this time of year.” Champ says with a smile as he leaves the lab, leaving Y/N to take in the sudden task presented to her.

~~~

As the jet lands in the hidden docks, Y/N collects her belongings, making her way to the door and down the stairs. She is greeted by 3 men and a woman, along with her teammate, Tequila. 

“Welcome, Agent Vodka. I am Agent Merlin, this is Agent Galahad, Agent Lancelot, and… also Agent Galahad.” the tallest man said, he was clean shaven, even his scalp. Merlin had gestured to each of the agents as he went through their names. 

“You can just call me Harry,” said the second Galahad. Smiling as he stuck his hand out for a handshake. Y/N smiled and shook his hand before turning to Tequila, “Long time, no see, huh, Tequila?” 

Tequila smiled, having traded in his old cowboy hat for a bowler hat. “It’s been a minute hasn’t it, Vod?” After Agent Galahad introduced himself, telling Y/N to call him Eggsy, as well as Agent Lancelot, who told her to call her Roxy, the group moved into the main building, the mansion known as Kingsmen HQ. 

Tequila gave Y/N a tour, showing her all the facilities and where she would be staying. After putting her stuff in her room, everyone was called into the briefing room. 

Harry began the meeting by recapping on what they already know: They were following Raymond Gavara, a man who sought to overload the World Wide Web and telecoms in order to fry all technology so he could rebuild the tech industry on his own databases and to reset the world’s financial institute structure. Basically, he wanted to bring the world back to a cash only society and make everyone buy his computers and phones to rake in billions. 

Harry then gave the floor to Merlin, who then showed everyone Gavara’s pictures and what they knew about him. Tequila, Eggsy, and Roxy were all given tasks and sent out, meanwhile Y/N was brought into the Kingsmen’s tech lab, where she was shown where she would be working from and what the team needed from her.

~~~

Several months had passed and the progress on the mission was moving slowly. Every time Merlin and Y/N would get a lead in tracking or hacking into Gavara’s database, they were almost instantly blocked. Firewall after firewall, cypher after cypher, it was just one thing after another and they could only do so much decoding with the information they had. 

However, that didn’t mean there wasn’t any down time. With three trouble makers in the same place, Y/N, Eggsy, and Tequila got into a lot of mischief. It started just as a small joke, that Merlin was strung so tight that he probably did not have the ability to laugh. So Y/N went to work, setting little pranks up, trying to get the stoic Merlin to even just crack a smile. It started small, like making faces during meetings with him, then it was the traps placed at his desk, like glitter bombs or spring snakes. Even just trying to make dumb jokes while they both typed away in the tech lab, but nothing seemed to work. 

One day, while Y/N was trying to crack the code on one of Gavara’s firewalls, the team was called into the debriefing room. 

“So, we have a bit of a lead on someone who may be in contact with Gavara. Thomas Write, a professor of economics at the University of Cambridge, has been seen making a few too many ‘coincidental’ bump-ins with known associates of Gavara.” Harry said as he looked at everyone at the table, “While it's not much to go off of, we still need Mr. Write to be tracked and watched for the next couple days. Seeing as Merlin and Vodka haven’t made much progress on getting through Gavara’s database, we will need to go all in on a physical approach to destroying his servers. Eggsy and Tequila, you are to go to the warehouse that stores the servers in Switzerland. Merlin, you will go and keep an eye on Write, make sure he is not involved in Gavara’s plans. As for Roxy and Vodka, you two will stay here.” 

Everyone nodded in agreement with Harry’s plan, getting up and leaving the room to prepare for the mission. However, Merlin stayed in the room, looking dissatisfied as everyone left.

 As everyone else cleared out, Y/N stood outside the door, listening to the two men talk.

“Are you serious Harry? A surveillance mission on someone who most likely isn’t even involved?” Y/N recognized the Scottish accent as Merlin’s. 

“It’s just a precaution, Merlin. We don't want another incident like with Professor Arnold. You’ll be put up in a hotel across the street from Write’s condo.” Harry said, trying to ease the angry Scott. 

“Well then why don't you send that insufferable Agent Vodka then? All she does is distract me from my work here at HQ.” Merlin nearly barked back. Y/N was a little hurt by his words, ‘Am I really that bad?’ she thought to herself, ‘a little annoying, sure, but insufferable?’ 

Just as Y/N was about to walk away, she heard Harry call for her through the door. 

‘Shit,’ she thought as she pushed the door open to look at the two men waiting in the room.

“Since you seem so concerned about Merlin’s mission that you felt the need to listen in on our conversation, you will be joining Merlin on the surveillance of Thomas Write.” Harry said, causing Merlin to look at him, wide eyes, a hint of anger clear on his face.

“Harry, you can’t be-” Merlin began, but was quickly cut off by Harry.

“Didn’t you just say that Agent Vodka should be on this task as well?” Harry raised an eyebrow toward Merlin, a silent dare to question his authority. 

“Yes, sir.” Merlin said, admitting defeat, but still with a tinge of anger in his voice. 

“Then it's settled, both of you get packed. You have an hour before you leave and I'll have your alias’ in the car.” Harry said before Merlin stomped off out of the room. Y/N nodded and quickly left, rushing to her room to pack some clothes as well as her mobile units. 

The car ride to the hotel was awkward. Not only was it obvious that Merlin didn’t like Y/N, but their alias was that of a married couple. Because of course it was. The Hotel was also nothing to write home about, a small dingy room with a twin bed and a small bathroom. The only reason Y/N could tell that this room was selected for the stakeout was the large window that faced Thomas Write’s condo, giving a perfect view of his living room as well as the entrance to the condo building. 

As soon as Merlin and Y/N entered the room, they began setting up. Y/N got onto her mobile unit and found Write’s wifi network, remotely installing bugging software on all his devices and gaining access to his security cameras. Merlin went out and quickly placed a GPS tracker on Write’s car before returning to the hotel room. As Merlin entered the room Y/N waves her hands in front of the computer screens, acting as if she was an assistant presenting a product on the sales channel. Merlin just sighs and moves past Y/N, taking the chair that she was previously sitting in and begins montering Write through the cameras.

~~~

It was the third day of the stakeout and Merlin hadn’t taken his eyes off of the screens. Y/N was mostly on food duty, dipping out of the hotel to grab take out and coffee. This was supposed to be a team effort, but it seemed that every time Y/N took over surveillance so that Merlin could rest, he always pushed her out of the way and took back over. 

It was starting to become another long night. Y/N had just grabbed some takeout and was entering the hotel room, only to see Merlin still watching Write do… nothing still. 

“About time you got back, I sent you out hours ago, what took so long?” Merlin said, impatiently.

“There was a really long line at the Chinese restaurant and they make everything on the spot so-” but before Y/N could finish, Merlin interrupted her, “Oh, whatever. Just bring my food over here so I can eat and do surveillance.” Y/N takes Merlin’s takeout box out of the bag and places it on the desk next to Merlin, along with a fork. Immediately Merlin begins digging into his food, a stark contrast from his usually well put together demeanor. 

With food still in his mouth he clears his throat before speaking, “You know what I don’t understand? Is why you agreed with Harry to come here with me, or why he wanted to put you on this task in the first place. This isn’t even anything difficult or special, just monitoring for the sake of making sure all of our bases are covered. And what I also don't understand is why you insist on making my life a living hell through all of this. I’m doing all the heavy lifting for this task, and yet you still find ways to get in the way or just cause inconveniences for me.” As Merlin speaks, he doesn’t look away from the screens, still watching as Write fiddles about his study. 

“Hey, I'm doing my best here. And it's not like I’m not doing anything, I've been bringing you food and trying to help, but you just keep pushing me aside to do it yourself!” Y/N counters back, causing Merlin to swive in his chair to face her.

“Don’t give me that. I have to take over all the tasks because you either do it wrong or take too long to do it. Just the other day, you said you were going to go check out some shady individuals that were mucking around at the condo’s entrance, only to go off and get yourself coffee, AND you didn’t even bring me back any!” 

“I told you, I didn’t know what you would even want, it's one of those fancy places that does mostly iced coffee. Besides, I brought back donuts.”

“Yea, but the donuts were for you. There were like 6 and you ate 4 of them before I could even get a chance to see what you brought.” Merlin was now staring daggers at Y/N through his nearly bloodshot eyes, red from hours of staring at the screens. 

Y/N looked at Merlin with a look of disbelief, coupled with a tinge of anger and annoyance.

“Well, besides the point, all you do is sit here and distract me. I would have gotten by on this mission by myself just fine and still gotten more work done, and I'm not even talking about just this task, the whole mission. You know I was excited to work with you when the Statesmen first sent you over. I thought ‘maybe this won't be so bad. Maybe I'll finally get to work with someone who is competent and-and will be able to actually help me get all this work done.’ but no, I got you, the insufferable yank that likes to spend her time harassing me and annoying me at every waking second.” 

“Harass and annoy you? Look, I was just trying to have fun, to give you a distraction, a mental break from work, ok?” Y/N says, now almost laughing with annoyance at the way Merlin perceives her.

“For fun?” Merlin gives a half mocking and half sleep deprived laugh, “Why? It’s obvious to me, and everyone else at HQ, that you hate me. And you know what? The feeling is mutual.” Merlin then turns back to the screens, seeing that Write hasn’t moved from his previous place in his condo. 

The room is silent. As Merlin turns around again, he see’s Y/N with an almost pout on her face.

“Oh what? Why are you making that face?” He says, annoyance present in his Scottish accent.

“You hate me?” she says.

“What? Is it not clear that we have this hate-hate relationship?” Merlin says in almost disbelief.

Y/N stays silent for a second before speaking again, “I don’t hate you.” 

“Then why? Then why do you insist on doing all your little pranks, hm?” Merlin crosses his arms, waiting for a response.

“Because I want you to have fun. I want you to relax a little. You're always so serious and tense. I get that, because of our line of work, you have to be, but you should be able to stop and laugh some times.” Y/n says, taking a few steps closer to Merlin now. 

“Well, I-I can be plenty of fun actually!” a slight blush creeps up on Merlin’s face, taken aback by Y/N’s reasoning. “I can have plenty of fun. Just ask Eggsy or Harry, they’ll tell you, that… I’m, uh… fun” Merlin’s words fall off, realizing that he may have been a bit too harsh on you, with his lack of sleep causing him to act too brash.

“Well… if you don't do it because you hate me.. Then… why? Why do you want me to have fun?” Merlin looks down, not making eye contact with Y/N.

“Well…” Y/N takes another step towards Merlin before she is standing directly in front of him, her knees nearly touching his. “Maybe it'll be easier if I just showed you.”

“Show me what-” Merlin is cut off by Y/N grabbing him by his sweater, pulling him closer so she can plant her lips on his. Merlin is shocked at the sudden kiss, unmoving for a moment before relaxing and closing his eyes, kissing her back. His hands instinctively going up to rest on her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss becomes heated with both their lips dancing together. 

Just then Merlin comes to his senses, pulling back, “Wait! Wait, wait, wait.” Merlin catches his breath and adjusts his glasses. “What was… that?” 

Y/N, still high on her own confidence, looks right at Merlin with an unreadable expression, “A kiss.” 

“Well, yea I know that. B-but what I mean is why… Did you kiss me?” Merlin says as he is still breathing heavily. Y/N lets out a sigh as she stands up straight, “Jesus, Merlin.” she begins.

“No, I know, but I mean we can’t be… we’re working together now and we just… the regulations and-and the stakeout, and I thought you hated me and now… this.” Merlin gestures his hands around, alluding to what just happened. 

“Damnit, Merlin. Is it so hard to think that I do what I do to you because I like you? That I’ve been staying up to ungodly hours here with you because I want to keep you company? If I hated you, then I would have told Harry to shove it and gone back to the Statesmen. I stay because…” Just as Y/N get to the last couple of thoughts that are running through her mind, she feels the words stick to her tongue, “Because I think I love you.” 

This time Merlin is the one to jump to his feet, wrapping one arm around Y/N’s waist and the other grabs the back of her head, pulling her into a deep kiss. And this time it’s Y/N’s turn to be surprised before returning the kiss, their lips moving together. Merlin runs his tongue along Y/N’s bottom lip, testing the waters.

Y/N pulls back slightly, looking up at Merlin. “What about the regulations?” She says with a slight smirk on her face.

Merlin returns the smirk, “I lied, there are no regulations.” The two rejoin, Y/N hand cupping the back of Merlin’s head as the other rests on his chest, gripping at the fabric of his sweater. 

Just as Merlin begins to walk Y/N back towards the bed in the room, he gets a call on his glasses, quickly pulling away and answering.

“Yes? Mm. mhm. I see. Good work Eggsy. Yes, see you soon.” He says before tapping the side to end the call.

“What was it, Merlin?” Y/N asks.

“Eggsy. He says they’ve completed the mission and that Gavara has been neutralized. We’re free to wrap up here.” 

Y/N looks down, about to step away from Merlin before he pulls her back, his arm still around her waist. 

“He also says that next time I decide to engage in… extracurricular activities, I should make sure to disable my video calls.” Merlin double taps the side of his glasses before taking them off and placing them on the desk. “ And please, call me ‘Hamish’.” Merlin then leans down and takes Y/N’s mouth again before continuing with the actions he had already set in motion.

[lady-bess]

Fallout - Chapter 9

"Collision"

Jack Daniels x F!Reader Explicit/18+ (Minors DNI please) Chapter Word Count: 9.7k Chapter Tags: Fighting, Self Defence training, planned fighting (they don't hate each other - yet), physical combat, physical intimacy, unexpected romance, first kiss, Jack in sweatpants (that needs its own warning).

Series Masterlist | A03 Link | Tumblr Masterlist

<- Previous Chapter (Ch. 8 - "Back to Basics")

After hitting a bump in the road, you work with Jack and adapt his training programme with more of a focus on physical defence training. But when you push his buttons a little too much during your session, your worlds collide in ways you never expected.

A/N: Thank you so much for bearing with me for this chapter. Life has been a hell of a lot recently, but I think we're turning a corner now! Not going to promise when the next upload will be, but it'll not take a month!

Jack’s session could have set him back a bit with progress, but fortunately he was at your office two days later with a smile on his face that you honestly weren’t expecting. He closed the door behind him and headed over to your desk. 

“Sorry to disturb you, Mimosa. Is now a good time?” he asked. You looked him up and down and saw him clutching a small brown envelope, tucked just slightly under his suit jacket. Smiling softly, you replaced the lid on your pen and set it down on your desk, leaning back in your leather chair slightly.  

“Of course, take a seat,” you gestured to the seat in front of your desk and smiled as Jack sat down, “What can I do for you?”. 

Jack nodded, pulling the chair out from under the desk so that he could sit down. He leant forward over the desk first though, his arm outstretched, his hand still firmly holding the brown envelope. 

“This is for you,” he said, handing you the envelope and clearing his throat. You took it from him, furrowing your brow as you did. You opened the drawer of your desk to your right and reached inside to grab something to open it with. 

“What’s this?” you asked, sliding a small pen-knife under the seal of the envelope and tearing the delicate paper seal. Jack smiled taut as he sat down at last, breathing a slight sigh of relief as he settled into the seat - like parting with those papers had taken a physical weight off his shoulders, and now he could relax. 

“It’s an evaluation of my latest session with Loretta, which I had after the…incident the other day. She’s given some professional recommendations going forward, given what happened to me,” he explained. You nodded, sliding the note out of the envelope, and scanning over it quickly. 

It wasn’t really of any surprise that you would have to change things up to accommodate for Jack’s reaction. Perhaps he would be fine the next time he handled a gun, or he may never be able to fire a weapon again. Only time would tell which outcome was going to be your reality, so since his session the other day you’d been planning for a worse case scenario. 

You did your best to interpret Loretta’s handwriting, chuckling to yourself at the note she’d attached to the paper last minute which apologised for what she described as her “chicken scratch”, and promised that she would get these notes formally typed up as soon as possible. She was more bothered by you having them immediately, rather than worrying about how professional they might appear. 

Not much surprised you with Loretta’s summary of Jack’s condition, and a few phrases jumped out which you had expected to see; “patient exhibited negative response to the feel of firing a gun”, “patient and practitioner concerned about the potential of mental relapse if training is to continue”, “recommend a withdrawal from arms until a more thorough psychological evaluation can be performed”. 

“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised,” you said, setting down the note and turning your attention back to Jack. He looked shy, a slight red creeping up his neck, and he couldn’t keep his focus on you as well as he had just a few days ago. You cocked your head to the side, surveying him for a moment. 

“How does it make you feel, Jack?” you asked. At the use of his name, and not his moniker, his eyes shone out at you as he locked onto your gaze anew. A coy smile made itself known, bashful and nervous; not the Jack you had come to know these last two months. 

“I-,” he laughed lightly, but it came out more like a scoff, “I feel ashamed,” he admitted. 

“Why’s that?” you asked. Jack shrugged, then let out a deep sigh and sank back into the chair opposite to you, breaking eye contact again as he screwed his eyes up in frustration, one hand rubbing that familiar scar on his forehead as he spoke. 

“Because I- I’ve been doing this for so long, London. And I know I’ve had a bump in the road, but still. I figured that by now I wouldn’t face any setbacks like this. I feel like I’m just wasting your time,” he said. You furrowed your brow and leant forward in your seat, bridging the gap between the two of you. 

“Jack,” you said softly, making his attention turn towards you. His deep brown eyes flicked back up to yours, and you could see the beginning of tears forming in the corners. You didn’t know if they were from anger, upset, or fear; but you had to guess that it was probably a healthy mixture of all three. 

“What you went through was not your average ‘bump in the road’,” you said, using air quotes and then chuckling softly in an attempt to lighten the mood. Jack laughed through his nostrils and one side of his mouth quipped up in the smallest of smiles, but still his demeanour remained downtrodden. 

“I know, I know, I just-,” he began, and as he spoke you could hear words getting caught in the back of his throat. He sighed, removing his stetson and placing it on your desk, before running both hands over his face. 

Concerned, you left your seat and walked around to the other side of the desk. Kneeling down slightly, you reached out and tenderly laced your fingers around the width of Jack’s hands, gently pulling them away from his face. He let you, a few tears tumbling down his cheeks as he let you grasp at his hands. Your thumbs softly caressed the back of his hands and that familiar quake you felt in the weapons room was evident again. 

“Shh,” you cooed, speaking softly. “You’re alright, Jack. Look, you don’t need to explain yourself to me if you don’t want to. I’m sorry if I pushed you?” you said, worried that you had in fact pushed him a little too hard. He shook his head, and you felt his hands slowly shift beneath yours; twisting slowly to begin enveloping yours in his. 

You let him. 

“No, no, it’s not your fault. I don’t feel pushed, it's just hard to talk about. Took me months to even get to this stage with Loretta,” he half smiled. 

It was then it dawned on him that he was being just as vulnerable with you now after only knowing you for two months than he was after Loretta worked for almost a year to properly break his walls down. He had always been open to therapy, and the benefits it would have for his rehabilitation programme, but that didn’t mean it was automatically easy for him to do so. But she had worked relentlessly for months to build up a rapport, to get Jack to begin speaking, and once he did the real healing had begun. 

And then here you were; fresh faced to the agency, virtually still a stranger to him, but yet someone he was willing to drop all defences for. The fact he was almost scared him enough to throw them back up. But as he sat here looking into your eyes, which reflected back nothing other than kindness and a willingness to help, with your fingers delicately laced around his - he knew he couldn’t ever do that. You’d somehow worked your way in, and deep down he didn’t think he actually wanted to get you out. 

“I guess I just feel useless, and like I’m wasting your time. And that’s a fuckin’ tough pill to swallow,” he chuckled, another tear cascading down his cheek. You squeezed Jack’s hands tighter and shook your head at him. 

“Don’t be so silly, Jack,” you whispered, releasing one hand to brush away the tears that fell from his eyes. He closed his eyes softly as he relished in the feeling of your soft hands on his skin again, the feeling just as intimate and caring as it was the other day when you gently caressed his scar. 

“You went through Hell and back just to wake up again. This was never going to be easy, so please give yourself more credit just for making it this far, okay?” you said. Jack opened his eyes again and looked down at you, smiling softly at the feeling of your hand now flattening out across his cheek and cupping it gently. As best he could without meaning your hand would move from situ, he nodded. 

“‘Kay,” he sniffled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to come in here and cry,” he chuckled. 

The Jack sitting before you was a far cry from the file you had read about all that time ago. No longer would you, or anyone else, be able to describe him as stoic, unavailable, or emotionally closed off. He had come in here and laid all his cards on the table, and paid no heed to the fact it had made him lose his composure slightly. He let the tears fall onto the pads of your fingers, and cared not that you were wiping each one away that danced down his cheek. 

Your heart shattered slightly that he clearly still, deep down, did not see himself as worthy of this second chance. He’d been a pain for you from the start, but even though he had his moments still it was evident he was trying so hard to make the best of his situation. Since you’d started as his T.O., there was nothing you cared for more than making sure he got back onto his feet and to go back to being the incredible agent he clearly once was. Just with…minor adjustments. 

Still caressing his hand and cupping his cheek, you leant forward slightly and pressed your lips against his forehead. Jack’s breathing hitched as he felt you plant a tender kiss to his skin, and for the brief moment you made contact with him it was like time itself stopped. He held his breath and felt the muscles in his torso constrict slightly as his heart thudded loudly, blood rushing past his ears. 

Because, for that couple of seconds, you were within reach. For the first time, he could have reached out and grabbed you, planting his own kisses on you and making you his. He had to fight every muscle in his body to not do just that, and instead gripped your hand a touch tighter. Your kiss ignited something that had long since laid dormant in Jack, and that was the want and need to love and be loved. He hadn’t even realised that was a desire he had the ability to have anymore. It was like it had been buried, and you kissing him so softly was like a fire melting an ice cube. Thawed out the need he had swirling within his veins. 

Fortunately for Jack, you pulled away just as swiftly as you’d gone in for the kiss. 

“Cut yourself some slack, Daniels. Okay?” you said, smiling wide, totally unaware of the mental anguish that was now going on in Jack’s mind. He blinked a couple of times to try and snap himself out of the small spiral he felt himself careering towards, then nodded. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. 

“Good,” you grinned, now pulling away from him entirely. Once your back was facing him Jack left out a short exhale and composed himself as much as he could before looking in your direction as you sat back down. 

“So,” he cleared his throat, “what’s next for me?”. 

“Well, we have two choices. Ball is in your court for either,” you said, fiddling with a pencil on your desk. 

“What are those then?” he asked. You lifted one hand and pointed to the tips of your fingers as a way of counting when you reeled off his options. 

“We could either A, put you on a type of administrative leave so you can have a bit of time to yourself to process this. Or, B,” you tapped the tip of a second finger, “we can carry on with some adjustments. I had already assumed that you wouldn’t be back in weapons for a while, so I’ve made contingency plans until you feel ready,” you lowered your hands, “but it is entirely up to you.”

Jack bit his lip as he weighed up the options. On the one hand he really was quite shaken with how he had mentally reacted to just the sound and feel of a firearm going off the other day, and he knew that he definitely had a lot to work on before that could be attempted again. But on the other hand, he wasn’t convinced that hiding away from the world would do him all that much good - even if it was not the original plan, perhaps it would be better for him to remain with one foot in the door with his training, so he could at least make some progress somewhere. 

“Option B…what will that entail?” he asked. 

“More of the same, except I will swap out weapons training for hands on self defence and fighting. You haven’t done any of those classes yet as we’ve still had you working on your normal physical therapy, and didn’t want to push it too far,” you explained. Jack chuckled. 

“That and I didn’t fancy Tequila giving my ass a whooping,” he grinned. You couldn’t help but giggle either, and suddenly your mind created a scene of the two men fighting with one another. Except it didn’t look like a proper physical fight, but more like a bitchy, slapping catfight.  

You’d pay good money to see that. 

“He’s a bit occupied with Astrid at the minute to be worrying about beating your ass, Jack,” you grinned, “I’d just do that training, like I have for every other aspect of your rehab. You know Eve and how well she’s trained me, so I think you’ll still get a fair fight outta me,” you smiled. 

You’re fucked, Daniels, Jack thought. 

“Alright, well you beating me seems preferable over Tex. If nothing else you might be kinder about it when I fall on my ass,” he grinned. 

“I dunno about that,” you teased, “So, what do we say? Are we going for option B?”. 

Jack smiled at you, nodding, his spirits feeling considerably lifted over how he was when he set foot in this office a short while ago. He had half expected you to just shut down any further training until he was ready to try using firearms again, but the sheer delight that filled him at the knowledge he wouldn’t have to stop his training was music to his ears. He could have hopped over the desk and kissed you for being given this chance. 

Or perhaps there was another reason. 

“Yes, if that’s alright with you?” he asked. 

“Sure is. Meet me in the gymnasium tomorrow morning at nine o’clock.”

~~~

You’d gone into Jack’s physical fighting training feeling confident, and like you could really put a lid on the small crush you could feel bubbling beneath the surface. Ever since he’d left your office yesterday you’d replayed what the fuck made you lean forward and kiss him, but the thought you really couldn’t get out your mind was why did you so badly want to do it again?

Your hopes and dreams of this session going smoothly and without any more inappropriate thoughts were swiftly squandered though when Jack turned up to the gymnasium looking like he’d just stepped right out of your deepest, unspoken fantasies. Tousled curly brown hair which he’d clearly paid no heed to neatening out this morning, a slightly too tight white t-shirt, and grey sweatpants that hung just perfectly on his narrow hips. 

He’d stepped in with a wide smile, and if you didn’t already have a minor desire to flirt with him relentlessly and see where things went, you were convinced you would have gained such a need the second you laid eyes on him. 

Damn this man. 

You did your utmost best, though. Two hours later and you’d done a thorough evaluation of his strength and cardiovascular health, pushing his body almost to its limit before even beginning the self-defence class. 

You'd started him out on the treadmill, having him slowly increase his speed until he was borderline sprinting on the belt. He took periodic breaks, his body still not totally back to normal when it came to getting oxygen around him. All of his other physical rehab on the treadmill has been performed with a myriad of monitors and an oxygen mask, but you wanted away from that. There had to be a point in which these safety nets got taken away and Jack agreed he was ready to try. After the mental setback the other day, he wanted to feel like he was at least able to take a physical step forward. 

He did well, all things considered. Since his injury, his performance this morning was the best he'd done since starting his rehab programme. You let him rest for ten minutes after his run, allowing ample time for him to catch his breath and clean himself of the sweat which had begun to pour from him. 

“You alright?” you asked, hopping on the treadmill for a brisk jog while he rested. Jack nodded from the bench near you, his chest heaving. 

“I'll be fine. Fi-,” he inhaled sharply, “first run without oxygen,” he said. Through the pain and breathlessness though, you noticed, was a small smile creeping onto his face. One of pride, that said even though he was paying for it now, he achieved something today. 

You smiled over at him, happy for him that he had achieved what he had this morning. He turned to face you and returned the joyful expression, even brighter, and your heart fluttered at the genuine delight you could see written on his face. It spread beyond his smile, reflected in his softened brow and the way his eyes sparkled back at you. 

The innocence of joy was swiftly ripped away from you though, as Jack lifted his t-shirt to wipe the remaining sweat from his face and neck. You had to avert your gaze to prevent the prickling heat you felt beginning to creep up your neck from reaching your cheeks and giving away your ever increasing desire for him. The mere flash of his torso was enough to hurl your mind back to the more unsavoury thoughts you'd had recently, the ones you desperately tried to bury. 

Clearing your throat, you switched off the treadmill and came to a steady stop. Jack dropped the material of his shirt, thank heavens, and headed over to you for the next part of your session. 

You'd planned everything down to a T. You needed him using each muscle, warming it up and pushing himself to the limit, so that you could A, properly gauge his overall strength, and B, figure out his weaknesses. 

Starting Jack on the weighted gymnasium machines, you had him rifle through shoulder, chest, hamstring, and core workouts. Starting each one on a low setting, with each set you worked up the weights until finding his limit on each. 

Surprisingly, his current “max weight” wasn't far off what it used to be. You smiled to yourself as you marked down his progress on a chart Clara had given you, flicking back briefly to look at previous sessions, satisfied to see such a major improvement. 

Then you moved onto the free weights. Again, using similar exercises, you ran Jack through a routine of using dumbbells, kettlebells, and medicine balls to complete the circuit. Even though he’d just done very similar movements on the machines, you needed to gauge how well he could hold his own when he wasn’t supported by a seat. 

Again, you were impressed at how well he did. He wasn’t hitting the same weights as he could on the machines, but this was to be expected. He didn’t have to think much about keeping a secure core when sat down on half the machines like he did when standing up with free weights in his hands. Still, you marked down any progress he’d made, noting that he was still doing the best he ever had since before his accident. 

“Alright, what’s next?” Jack asked after the session, setting the weights down and running a hand through his thick hair. You swallowed the small lump forming in your throat, cursing yourself inwardly that your mind dared to be so unprofessional right now. 

“Self-defence. I want you to show me what you’ve got,” you said. Jack grinned at you, a little cocky, and you felt a small flame of heat beginning to simmer deep in your stomach at that look alone. You weren’t proud of the feeling that rushed over you, but it was becoming hard to ignore. 

“Sugar, do you mean to say you’re gonna try and attack me?” he asked, a faint chuckle in the back of his throat. You raised your eyebrows, hands on hips, and stared him down. 

“You’ll do well to remember who trained me, Jack,” you smirked, “Don’t think I could take you?”. 

“You can take me any day,” he muttered under his breath, praying to those on high that you didn’t hear him. 

You did. 

“I’ll have less of that, Daniels,” you chuckled, laughing through what you hoped was a joke so as not to let your own mind wander too far down the route of what that might actually be like. How it would feel to have him envelop you entirely, to take you as his. To mark you, claim you, and have any kind of way with you. 

“You’re right,” he cleared his throat, “I’m sure Eve would kick my ass for even insinuating that you couldn’t hold your own.” 

“A fate you do not want,” you grinned. Jack raised his hands in a mocking surrender, grinning as he stepped towards you. 

“Not at all,” he said, his voice lower now as he dropped his arms to his side. 

“So, why now? Why not see what I’m capable of at the start of this session?” he asked. 

“I needed you tired,” you said. Jack furrowed his brow in confusion. 

“Tired? Why?”. 

“To replicate how well you could hold your ground during a mission. You’ll never be on top form when you’re out in the field if you’ve already been working for hours, and I shouldn’t have to remind you about that. I needed to see how you’d fare once you’d been on the job for a couple of hours, and exhausted.”

Jack nodded as he listened to you explaining your reasons, and he admittedly felt like a bit of an idiot for not seeing sense in your reasoning sooner. You’d tried throughout all of his training so far to make things as real to life as possible, rather than overly clinical and ‘by the book’. It was a stark contrast to his first round of training in the 90’s, which was far more akin to being back at school, with rigid examinations in place and a proper code to follow for everything. You threw him into situations head first, but given what he’d been through these last two years he was grateful for it. He had about enough of other people mollycoddling him. 

“Okay, makes sense. So, when do we st- ah!” 

Before he could even finish asking when this test would begin, you were on him. A quick shove to his chest combined with your leg subtly wrapped around the back of his, and Jack tumbled backwards to the ground. You chuckled as he grimaced, rolling onto his side to get himself up, swearing under his breath. 

“Rule one; always be prepared,” you said, pacing around the agent as he stammered to his feet. 

“Fuck you, London,” he hissed. A sharp pain shot through his spine as he stood straight, his hand resting on his lower back. Since his accident he’d definitely not been as nimble on his feet, his back having taken a significant brunt from both the nature of the fight before the accident and the subsequent months he spent comatose. Clara had told him in the weeks since he woke up that he was starting with a degenerative spinal disc disease, a consequence of his years of service, likely tipped over the edge by the months of not being able to stay active. 

His symptoms were manageable, and fortunately it was in the very early stages, so on the whole he didn’t get too much trouble with it. But he knew that once he started this aspect of his job again, he’d have to keep a better eye on things. You practically throwing him to the ground sent a stark reminder that he was not the agent he once was. 

“Come on, get up,” you commanded, reverting back into your role as his training officer, your voice raising louder to alert Jack that this was no longer a friendly encounter. You liked to keep things fairly informal with Jack, given how much time the two of you spent together - it would drain your social battery rather too quickly if you had to maintain the professional persona almost 24/7. But when the time called for it, you’d revert back into the role you were trained for, and reminded Jack in your tone alone that you were technically the more senior of the two of you, even in spite of his senior age to you. 

Jack got to his feet and turned around to face you. He lunged forwards, trying to grab you, but you dodged his advances. Stepping to the side, you landed a sharp strike to the centre of his shoulder blades as he leaned forward, making him yelp again in discomfort and lean over, winded. He coughed a couple of times, and you contemplated striking again while he was resting on his laurels, pushing him back down to the ground. But you decided against it for now, and returned to pacing around him. 

“Pick it up, Jack. If I were the enemy I’d have you on the ground gasping for air right now. I’m being easy on you,” you said. 

Jack straightened himself back up and rolled his shoulders back, clicking a couple of joints into place. He took a few deep breaths and then turned to face you. 

“Don’t be easy on me,” he said, his eyes slightly narrowed and his brows furrowing to be all the more serious. You grinned as you saw the determination begin to brew in Jack, his distaste at you having already bested him twice in mere minutes starting to tug at him. For as much as he was a changed man, there was always a deep seated need within him to make sure he was the best he could be. It was something Loretta had picked up on, and had been the thing to drive him to remain emotionally closed off for so long, but in times like this he could still call on that urge. 

“You sure?” you asked. Jack nodded. 

“Positive, ma’am.”

“Good,” you smirked, “Now treat me the same way. I can hold my own. I want you to give me everything you’ve got.”

Jack looked down at you and began calculating what he was going to do. The determination that lived in him which made him always need to be the best at everything was running rampant, but something stopped him. 

The way you looked at him, so fierce but caring at the same time. He knew that you only wanted what was best for him, and that this was your way of pushing him to achieve what you knew he was capable of. But he also couldn’t hurt you, which is exactly what he’d have to do to prove he was still an agent able to do his job. 

You watched as Jack’s eyes flitted across your face, and if you kept quiet enough you thought you might be able to hear cogs whirring in his head. He was working out what to do, but something was holding him back. Eventually he leant forward with the intent to grab your wrists and prevent you from being able to lash out at him, but you were quicker on your feet than he was. 

You said you weren’t holding back. And you meant it. 

You evaded his first swipe at you, grabbing his wrist and tugging on his arm to make him almost lose balance. He cursed as he almost lost his footing, but managed to stabilise himself swiftly. He pivoted back on his heels and turned to face you, a smirk on his face. You winked at him, before delivering your next sequence of attacks. 

One hit, two hits, both blocked expertly. Even your attempt at a roundhouse kick, he blocked. Grabbing your ankle, he yanked hard and pulled your weight from underneath you, sending you crashing to the ground. It hurt like a bitch, but you grinned as you sprung back up again - he’d gained his fight back, you’d pushed his buttons just right, and for the first time you were seeing the agent that you knew he was capable of shining through. 

“Good blocks, Daniels. You’ve impressed me,” you said, returning back to circling around him. Now it was your turn to roll your shoulders back and realign joints. You might not have the same physical limitations as Jack, but a sharp land on your back still had its effects, even for the most physically fit. 

“Thank you, ma’am,” Jack said. 

The two of you were now playing a game of cat and mouse, constantly suspicious of and awaiting the other to make the next move. You wanted to take him by surprise, but you figured he was likely doing the same. At this rate you’d never get anywhere, so you thought fast on your feet and suggested something new. 

“Alright, let’s try something else,” you said, reaching into a cupboard at the side of the gymnasium with sports equipment in it. You reached in and grabbed an old table tennis racket which got left behind from a playful tournament the team all got involved in last summer. 

“What are you thinkin’, London?” Jack asked, using the brief respite he’d gained wisely. He could feel just how hot and bothered he was, and the sweat pouring from his body was severely giving away just how unfit he felt now. 

You stood up and headed back over to Jack, the racket in hand. It was the perfect size for what you wanted. 

“Let’s pretend that this racket is a weapon I’m holding. A gun, a knife, whatever you want to envision. I want you to disarm me,” you explained, twirling the racket in your fingers. “Is that clear?”. 

“Perfectly, ma’am,” Jack said. 

“Good,” you smirked, “You may begin.”

What proceeded next was something akin to a well choreographed dance. Every step Jack made in your direction, every arm's length he extended, and each swipe of his hand, you evaded. You were light on your feet, something Eve had made sure to absolutely nail during your training. Her motto had always been that it didn’t matter how hard you could fight, what mattered more was how well you could get out of a mess. You could have the best weapons, or be the best hands on fighter there is, but when push comes to shove if you can’t evade attacks in the first place, you’re as good as dead. 

Frustration rose in Jack for each move you dodged. So far he’d only managed to graze his fingertips against your forearm, before losing you as you spun out of reach. He grunted at each lost swipe, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at him. He knew he had to be smarter than this to out-manoeuvre you. 

He knew he had to play you at your own game, and to mimic how you were trained, pushing aside his previous training. Unlike you, one of his original T.O's back in the nineties had opted for brutish power over nimble-footed attacks; which, the more Jack thought about it, was probably how he died in action just three years after the men met. Since then he’d retrained himself based on sheer experience alone, never thinking to ask for help. 

But now a moment had arrived where he needed to think outside the box, and do something he’d rarely done before. Putting aside how hard he could punch, how fast he could run, how strong he was, Jack now needed to be clever in his moves. 

He paid attention to your footwork, the movements you used each time he leant forward to try and disarm you. He made a mental note of how you twisted your body at each swipe of his hand, how you turned and spun on your heels effortlessly to put distance between the two of you. Step by step he memorised how you moved in sync with him, and he smirked as he plotted his next moves. 

It was like the two of you were dancing a waltz together; stepping in time, circling each other, your eyes never leaving the other’s gaze. You desperately tried to think what Jack’s next move might be; it had been a while since he’d last tried to make a grab for your ‘weapon’, and it made you wonder if he was now calculating things. Was he finally learning the patterns, learning to be smarter with each move? 

He reached forward again, as he had done dozens of times since you started this exercise, but this time he made sure to move in a way that prevented you from turning away from him how you had. Jack caught you off guard, making you stumble just enough so that he could reach for your wrist and disarm you. He squeezed your wrist just right so that the tendons and ligaments were constricted slightly, causing the tension you had in your fingers around the racket to weaken. The wooden racket crashed to the floor, narrowly avoiding both your feet. 

“Gotcha,” he declared, his voice low and almost velvety smooth with how deep it was. You gasped as the wood ricocheted off the floor beneath you, the sound of it crashing being all that now filled the void between the two of you. Jack’s fingers remained around your wrist, and as you looked up at him there was a devilish twinkle in his eye that read ‘I win’. 

Not today, Daniels. 

“Oh, really?”. 

With Jack’s hand still grasping your wrist, you rotated your arm as much as you could in his grip, turning yourself so that your hand now held his forearm. Once your fingers could clamour at his skin, you yanked him hard and had his body lurch forward. Ducking down, you manoeuvred yourself underneath Jack so that his chest hit your shoulders. He let go of you in the haze you pulled him in, freeing your arm so that you could tug on his waist, rotate yourself beneath him, and pull him over your back and off his feet.

In one move you’d used Jack’s weight against him, and had him laid flat on his back in the gymnasium. He grunted as you used his weight to keep his arms pinned back beneath himself, unable to reach forward and try to fight back. He fidgeted beneath you as you swung a leg over his narrow hips to act as another way to distribute weight onto his body, keeping him pinned to the ground and unable to move. 

Exhausted, Jack’s breathing became more like panting as he almost accepted his fate. His chest heaved as he tried to collect himself and muster up an ounce of strength so that he might be able to salvage this. 

“Fuck, London,” he half-whined, half-grimaced, still fidgeting underneath you. The familiar twinge in his back he had earlier came back to rear its ugly head, and he was reminded yet again that he was no longer the fighter he once used to be. 

“Do you concede?” you asked. He shook his head, not wanting to appear like he was giving up the fight so easily. He might be older, still not recovered from his injuries, and significantly out of practice - but mentally, he was fitter than ever. That drive had returned in him, the fight he so needed, fuelling him each day to keep getting up and ploughing on. He had to keep going, he couldn’t stop to look back anymore, not after these last few years. He didn’t want to look back, either. 

Not when looking forward showed him you. 

“Where’s your fight then? You got cocky, delayed, and now look at you,” you smirked, taunting him. 

That lit something deep within him. You watched as the metaphorical switch flicked in his head that ignited a part of his brain which had not kicked into action in the whole time you’d known him. Smirking, you watched him process your words and wondered what this taunting could result in. Intrigue took over. 

Grinning down at Jack, you were just about to make him concede, to accept that there was not as much strength in him as you once thought, so that you might finally be able to begin a new training regime while he was being kept away from firearms. To make him see that things were not as they once were, and that he needed to get used to that. You plotted in your head what else you might be able to say to awaken whatever drive you’d seen light up his eyes just then, wondering if there was a button you could press which would make him snap. You needed, wanted, to see if those responses were still within the former senior agent, buried away after decades of use. 

What you had not realised, was that you had already pressed that button. Jack then did what Jack did best - he took you by surprise. 

Using momentum from what was left of his unrestrained legs, he hooked himself around your hips and flipped the two of you over. Your back hit the mat, and now with his own hands for himself again, he used them to grab your wrists and pin you down above your head. The weight of his legs on yours kept your hips firmly planted into the ground, Jack’s legs stretching down your thighs to stop you from moving them. 

You were impressed he had that much core strength left in him, and made a mental note to tell Clara about his improvements. To say he had needed rails at the side of his bed for six months after waking up just to get himself up in a morning, he’d come along far. 

But then, everything stopped. 

Jack didn’t move. He didn’t try and go for another attack, nor did he move so that you could retry another form of self defence. Instead he remained hovering above you, your breath mixing together in the small space between you. He was so close to you - sinfully, even. And what’s worse is that you didn’t even hate how it felt to have his weight above you, keeping you pinned firmly to the gymnasium floor. Something about this felt oddly right, even if in reality it was never something you could ever dare dream to imagine taking further. 

He felt that rush of adrenaline begin to die down within him ever since your taunting comment about him being implied that he’d lost the fight. Now he was acutely aware of what his movements in the last few moments had resulted in, and consequently where he now found the two of you. 

Jack’s eyes dared to look down at your lips almost on instinct. He’d had his own suspicions that a crush was being harboured by him for you ever since you kissed him on the forehead in your office, but he’d done his best to quell any such feelings he had. Besides, it wasn’t like he could ever go through with doing anything…But that wasn’t to say he hadn’t thought about your lips, their softness, and you with your kindness, ever since yesterday. 

He whispered your name as he breathed, his words softer now as the two of you began collecting your breath after your fight. He gazed down at you, and for a moment you succumbed to him - the hairs on the back of your neck stood on their ends, and a shiver ran down your spine. So much about this was wrong, but your mind was blank to any reason why you should tell him to get off you. 

You watched as Jack’s eyes never left your face, flitting across every feature of yours, but paying particular attention to your lips. His tongue darted out a small amount, wetting his lips briefly, as if what he was looking at was becoming difficult for him to resist. Like he wanted, no, needed, to taste you. 

Lord knows he was becoming hard for you to say no to…

His brain stopped working for a moment, and his heart took over. Still pinning you down, the two of you still collecting your breath after the fight, Jack threw away all professionalism you had both tried to maintain thus far. You might kick him off, you might slap him for this, and for all of it he’d take in a heartbeat plus any other punishment you deemed necessary if you didn’t reciprocate this. But something about this felt right, and like it wouldn’t be something you would be so against - the months of spending virtually every day together, the late nights working, the closeness, and the feeling he couldn’t shake that you actually cared for him. He was totally enamoured with you on a professional standpoint, but over these last few weeks that had slowly bled into an adoration for you on a more personal level. 

“Sorry,” he whispered quietly, feeling like he would definitely owe you an apology for this, before he completely caved, dipping his head down and pressing his lips to yours. 

You felt the air escape your lungs like a vacuum in space as he pushed his lips to yours in a soft but tender kiss. You knew that this crossed so many lines, but nothing inside of you cared to stop and question that right now. The softness of his moustache brushed against your top lip, a feeling that you were very unfamiliar with, but not one you minded. His lips were soft, almost delicate, which was a stark contrast to the rest of him. From your brief encounters physically you knew that Jack had calloused hands, and was plagued by the ailments of his injury. You didn’t expect that any part of him would be soft and delicate, especially given the hardened exterior he so often portrayed since his injuries. 

Your brain took a few moments to catch up with what your body was doing, but you found yourself quite willing to submit to Jack. Without much hesitation whatsoever, you kissed him back, allowing him to take your bottom lip between his when he went back in for more. You wished that you had your hands free to be able to run your hands through his hair, to tug on the thick curls at the nape of his neck lightly and keep him secured to you; to show him with your body and touch that you didn’t want this to stop. 

Closing your eyes, you got lost in the moment. Sighing gently, you parted your lips, and allowed him to have full control. You were telling him without any words that you were on the same level as him, that something had been growing between the two of you, and that he wasn’t totally insane for thinking it. You knew the look on his face just then when he looked down at you - pleading, desperate, and yearning for answers. Wondering if he was in the wrong for wanting to do this, to have you as his own. And while this could all come crashing down around you both any second now, for the moment you fused yourselves together neither of you dared consider what would happen once you parted. 

Jack's heart pounded in his chest. Through the smallest of gestures, you'd shown him your guard was lowered, and he was allowed in. He released you from his grip swiftly, moving one hand to cup your jaw as he deepened the kiss, his tongue lapping at yours. He was confident that he wasn’t about to get violently pushed onto his back, smacked away, or kicked where the sun doesn’t shine. He could relax and let go of the fear he had that you would not reciprocate such affection. 

He had you. Even if just for now, just in this moment laid out on the hardwood gymnasium floor, you were his. And he was yours. 

All restraint was gone now. With your hands free, you laced your fingers in his thick hair, tugging gently at the short curls that flicked up at the base of his skull. Ever so lightly you applied pressure through the tips of your fingers, and with each tug you were rewarded with a soft groan in the back of Jack’s throat. A shiver ran down his spine with every grab your nimble fingers gave to the curls at the back of his head, and he felt his hair stand on end as you did. 

For the first time in years, pleasure surged through Jack’s body. His fingertips pressed on your jaw harder, the desperation and need he had for you fuelling him to hold you tighter. His chest heaved with panting breaths as he devoured you, adrenaline coursing through him as he felt you react similarly to each touch of his lips on yours. His tongue nudged against yours, and the taste of you was almost enough to make him sinfully moan outright. 

But then something crept into his mind which made his grip loosen, and a panic replaced the lust and desire that he was feeling for the first time in years. Guilt sept in through his bones, and softly he released you from his hold. Still on top of you, his lips left yours, and he screwed up his weary eyes in shame. 

“I- I’m sorry, I-,” Jack stammered, a redness creeping up his neck in shame at what he’d done with you. Fear took over and he dared open his eyes to look at you, afraid of what your eyes would tell him. Would you be angry at him for overstepping the professional boundary the two of you had both worked on maintaining? Would you be upset at him for taking such a leap without either of you having ever discussed if this was something you’d be interested in?

But instead, he wasn’t met with either of those. 

“Jack-,” you whispered, pleading with him, not wanting him to stop. Through all the missions you’d been on over the years, the simple act of having Jack kiss you made you feel more alive than any time you’d risked your life. He’d ignited something that had for so long been neglected, and you weren’t ready to let that go just yet.  

“No, I shouldn’t have, I-,” he began, scrambling at his words to try and formulate an apology fast enough. 

“Shut up, and kiss me,” you said, paying little heed to the consequences. You knew that this would be something the two of you would have to work to unpick after this session, but in the moment you didn't want to think about that. You yearned to go back to the little bubble the two of you had created in the vast expanse of the gymnasium - to close off everyone else, and have it be just the two of you, in sync and finally listening to the urges you’d been fighting off. 

“W-what?” he asked, eyes wide and laced with confusion at your request. 

“Kiss me, Jack. Please,” you said, giving no further reasoning. You didn’t want to stop and think about the justification, you didn’t want to have to clamour for a reason why. It just felt so good to be in this position, beneath a man you’d come to care for so greatly, his lips on yours and your hands laced through his hair. 

You didn’t need to ask him a third time. 

Jack didn’t question anything else - his head dipped back down and caught your lips in another kiss. He knew, as you did, that this wasn’t going to be a simple thing either of you would be able to move past. But that was a problem for the two of you later - right now, no problems existed. 

With the reassurance you did want this as much as he did, Jack allowed his hands to wander across your body. Still with one hand cupping your cheek, the other traversed down the expanse of your torso, lingering for a moment over your chest. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat between kisses at the feeling of his deft fingers dancing over your nipples, so gently but yet with a need that showed itself in how eagerly he cupped the soft swell of your breast. 

Jack’s mind span as you so eagerly let him explore your body as if it was his own. Caressing your chest, his kisses became firmer and more passionate as a heat rose between the two of you. For so long he had never contemplated true intimacy with anyone else, resigning himself to years of meaningless hookups in bars with women he’d avoid seeing a second time if he could help it. He’d take his time, give them a night to remember, but he’d never been all that interested in the beauty in what it meant to take things slow, and to submit himself to any of them. 

But you were different. Like a siren calling lost men at sea, he was drawn to you in ways he could never explain. Taking you in was akin to taking an addictive drug, he knew that already, and that ever considering giving this up would be a near impossible task. 

You had to fight not to moan loudly beneath Jack as his hands continued to explore your body further, making your hair stand on end as the fabric of your clothing rubbed against your body. He timidly made his way down until he reached the hem of your shirt, then hesitated. You knew what he was considering, and what he so badly wanted to do. 

“Yes,” you whispered against his lips between kisses, giving him permission to explore even further. 

Grinning, Jack slipped his hand up under the hem of your shirt, and slowly slid his palms up your bare skin. You felt the calluses on his fingers drag against your flesh, and the sensation was pleasurable enough that you dared to contemplate what it might feel like to have his fingers elsewhere on your body. Your cheeks heated up at the mere thought of what that could be like, and you bridged the gap between you both with a kiss to hide your obvious embarrassment. 

Jack chuckled in the back of his throat as he gladly kissed you. He might not have noticed the heat of your skin, but he saw the dazed look in your eyes. The way your pupils dilated a little further, how blown out and glassy your eyes were staring back at him. He could tell from that alone that your mind was reeling as to what else the two of you might explore, and he’d be lying if he said that didn’t do something for him. 

Just to know that you were amenable to such exploration ignited a desire in Jack that he’d not had for years. The desire to lay with another, and for it to mean something. The prospect was still relatively terrifying, but for you he was more than willing to try and push those fears to one side so that he might experience such beauty once more. His own mind wandered at the thought of how you would look for him laid out on his bed, devoid of any clothing, begging for him to take you. 

Heat pooled in the pit of his stomach, and he felt his sweatpants begin to tighten as arousal continued to surge through him. A foreign feeling for Jack, with self pleasure being something he had only recently started considering again. There had been absolutely zero drive for him to indulge in such an activity for so long, with him being more focused on getting better physically, and then mentally. The act had very quickly fallen down the list of priorities that he had. 

But laying here with you, his hand slowly travelling up your bare skin, and with your lips fused to his, that urge had reawoken. He moaned softly against your lips as his fingers reached the band of your sports bra. 

How you wished you’d not dressed so practically for this session. You grunted beneath Jack in frustration as his fingers attempted to pry at the seam of your bra, but the strong elastic and reinforced band made it near impossible. It would only come loose if you were to release the entire band from the clasp that sat in the centre of your back, but from here there was no way that was getting undone. 

Still, his hands remained. He cupped your breasts and rubbed his thumbs over the peaks, grinning against your lips as you whined and writhed around beneath him at the sensation. He adored every small whimper that you made between kisses, every heavy breath that heaved from your chest, and every movement of your hands against him.

Your short nails dragged lightly across Jack’s back, feeling every muscle that spanned across his broad frame. You’d admired his stature from afar before, but never considered that there would be a time in which you would get to hold him against your body like he was yours to have. 

Jack was so easy to get lost in, and time almost stood still in the small bubble you’d made for yourselves laid out on the floor. The quiet moans and soft grunts, as well as the sound of your lips meeting in an embrace, was the only sound the filled the room. Both of you desired that louder moans and whimpers were what filled the empty space, but there had to be some element of restraint. 

Not that it was easy to stop going further. 

But then, cutting through the silence of the room; footsteps in the distance. Jack noticed before you did, and instantly pulled his hand out from up your shirt and went back to having you pinned down. You gasped as he pushed your arms back onto the cold floor, your lips breaking from his as he did. Looking up at Jack, his lips slightly swollen from the ferocity of your kisses, you heard the door to the gymnasium opening slowly, and the footsteps from outside the corridor coming inside. 

“And what exactly am I looking at here, agents?” a woman’s voice asked. 

Both of your heads snapped towards the direction of the voice, only to be met with the sight of a familiar redhead standing in the doorway. She was dressed in almost all black, even if she retained the cowboy aesthetic of the Statesman uniform, but today had opted to go without the hat. Instead, her curly red hair flowed around her face, which was adorned with a devilish grin and raised eyebrows. 

Eve. 

“Physical defence training,” you said, attempting to make it sound like you didn’t have a lump in your throat from being caught almost red handed making out with another agent. 

“I can see that,” she chuckled, now heading into the room, “But why is Jack here on top of you?”. 

“I disarmed her, she threw me to the ground, and I just managed to get the upper hand,” Jack explained, clearing his throat as he slowly began to peel himself off from you. You felt the weight from his body slowly begin to leave you, his legs sliding off yours and his hands loosening from your arms, eventually resulting in him getting off you entirely. 

“Mhmm, okay,” Eve chuckled as the two of you got to your feet, “And that’s all that was going on, right?”. 

“What else would there be, Eve?” you asked. 

She wasn’t dumb. You knew that, and she knew that. Hell, even Jack knew that, and he’d not had much interaction with Eve in several years. You just prayed to any God that might exist that she hadn’t actually seen what the two of you had done - speculation was one thing, but to physically see what had just happened? You weren’t sure you’d ever live it down. 

“Nothing!” she smiled as the two of you got back on your feet. You noticed out of the corner of your eye that Jack thrust his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, and you practically burned at the realisation of why he had to do that in the presence of someone else, given what had just happened. 

“What’s up, anyway? Wasn’t expecting to see you until later?” you said, taking your time to readjust your clothing which had been scuffed up during the course of the training session. Jack made no such effort, remaining as stiff as a board. 

In more ways than one, you suspected…

“Champ sent me,” Eve began explaining, smiling sweetly at you both. “You’re both needed for a meeting. Separately, though.”

“Separately?” Jack queried. Eve shrugged. 

“I know no more than you, Daniels,” she said, “All I’d suggest is you get a move on. He seems…I don’t know. Agitated, almost? I just wouldn’t keep him waiting.”

“Alright, thanks Eve. We’ll go get changed and head up shortly. We were almost done for today anyway,” you smiled. Eve chuckled, winking at you as Jack left your side to go and collect his gym bag. She leant forward so that she could whisper to you. 

“I bet you were…,” she said. 

Well, shit. 

Series Masterlist | A03 Link | Tumblr Masterlist

Next Chapter (Ch. 10 - "Furtherance") ->

[klarex]

I know my requests are closed, buuut I wanted to tell you that I added Kingsman, so if I open my requests box again, you can request them!

I'm going nuts about these films! I fucking love them so much😍

Anyway, have an amazing day!❤️

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Recently Uploaded - 4/19/24 - Fanfic Friday

We Meet Again - Eggsy Unwin X Female Reader - Slight Angst/Fluff - 3.0k

[dinsmechanic]

𝐉."𝐖".𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

──.★ fooled around and fell in love [ @agentwhiskeysdarlin ]

⌗ f!reader

⌗ mostly in jacks pov

⌗ 3.4k

⌗ fluff

⌗ bar setting, alcohol consumption

⌗ brief mentions of death and funeral setting

⌗ 18+, piv, heavy makeout session, oral m & f-receive

──.★ honey honey how you thrill me [ @americnprometheus ]

⌗ f!reader

⌗ 1.7k

⌗ goofy fluff !!

⌗ insinuation to smut

──.★ when you say nothing at all [ @agentwhiskeysdarlin ]

⌗ f!reader

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⌗ 1.4k

⌗ so fluffy

⌗ 18+, piv, sensual sex, floor sex, oral f-receive

──.★ save a horse ( ride a cowboy ) [ @deardjarin ]

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⌗ 18+, piv, office sex, riding, moving of voyeurism

──.★ bull ride [ @palioom ]

⌗ f!reader

⌗ jack's cringey

⌗ 2k

⌗ 18+, piv, public sex ( middle of nowhere ), spanking, dirty talk

[weirdandnerdyinlasvegas]

My husband and I decided to go for a two week road trip for vacation. This is the hotel we stayed at the other night. All I could think was.... Damn this is like a freakin' Jack Daniels fanfic.

BTW this is the El Rancho Hotel in Gallup, New Mexico. Built in the 1940s. It's right on Route 66 and was built to host celebrities as they filmed in the nearby desert. The rooms are named after different actors and actresses as well.

[sneetsnootyoit]

Realizing people really like your idea for a fic and they like hearing about a scene you wrote when you haven't even fully written the first chapter:

[hyacinthduchess]

Welcome to The Garden,

Salve! Hiiii,my name is Joanne ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶. But you can also call me duchess!! Hobbyist writer🎖️;I am mainly looking to have fun, to share my creations, to improve and to meet lovely people and their even lovelier ideas. !!!

Manners Maketh Man

My Main rules

🪻Let us all be kind to each other <3

🪻Do not steal,plagiarise,repost etc. my work!!

🪻Don’t urge me to finish something. Do remind me because I could have forgotten, (most often it is because I got buried in work and forgot) But unfortunately I also get easily burnt out or tired.

What I will do :

🪻Fluff

🪻Angst

🪻Smut ( but I’m still working on my skills unfortunately 😭AHEM.)

🪻Comfort/Hurt

🪻Crack

—

🪻headcanons

🪻drabble/oneshot

🪻Whatever you ask me! Ask and we’ll see.

🌷I am working on more categories!

—

Fandoms: DC (Batman rogues especially), Spiderverse, Team Fortress 2, Beetlejuice(movies), The King in Yellow(yes, the baby too☠️), Dungeon Meshi, Sherlock Holmes (most interpretations), Kingsman movies.

and it’s always worth a try to ask me if I know about a fandom and if I write for it because these are all that I could get off the top of my head !

I can write Historical Romance ! Make a character for you or with your own ocs☺️ or just an x reader 🙃 I can do most historical periods (not prehistorical sorry if this is your thing lol)(My gimmick is kinda just Jane Austen, I suppose)

Or maybe do something from literature, mythology,, etc.

I write for pretty miscellaneous fandom come to think of it💔

What I won’t do :

🪻non-con.

🪻incest/stepcest.

🪻piss/scat kinks.

🪻anal.

🪻body horror.

🪻minor/adult content. p much anything that isn’t fluff, head-canons or toned down angst with minor characters.

🪻RPF.

🪻glorify homophobia/racism.

🪻glorify abuse of any kind.

🪻depict manipulative, toxic,destructive relationships unless they serve a storytelling purpose, are supposed to have a tragic end and not to be glorified or normalised. Dark romance isn’t really my thing.

🎵 NOTE!! 🎵

I might “shy away” from writing some topics due to my lack of knowledge on that certain experience, and would rather not write it at all rather than portray it poorly (poorly by my own terms). But if demanded, I will serve.

I am very open to constructive critique and feedback, and I am very grateful if you take your time to give me a tip for the betterment of my writing♥️♥️♥️

There might’ve been some things I missed, but do always ask me!

[chaoticgeminate]

Called In

Part of the Iridescence Fictional Universe

Whiskey Serenades Part Four

Pairing(s): Javier Peña x Foxwoman fem!Reader (current lovers) | Coyote Shifter!Jack x Foxwoman fem!Reader (eventual) Word Count: 2.7k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Just more of Jack being a bit of a jerk, Champ too

The entire Statesman office was assembled, with members of the High Council present in the room, but Jack couldn’t help but keep looking at the Witch and her Familiar seated and waiting for Sambuca to show up. The message sent to the Blazevale Herd about continued attempts on Pi, for whatever reason he didn’t know, had them sending the woman over through the portals and asking for Sambuca without even offering a greeting to the Ambassador or the Council.

His eyes darted to the door as it opened and he noticed the musky scent of Peña on her body, it was enough to almost make him growl, but Jack bit back his temper as the foxwoman was enveloped in a hug by the Witch.

“It is good to see you again, doubtless my King and Queen will apologize in person for calling on you but we trust you most with handling the continued attempt of whomever is after Princess Pi.” Sambuca dipped her head and Jack had to bite back the insult that was waiting on the tip of his tongue, Champ had already warned him that there was not to be any antagonizing on his part, last thing he needed was the Witch thinking even less of Statesmen and him in particular.

“Inform King Eos and Queen Ilo that they do not need to apologize, the safety of the Princess is what matters most, though I worry about the focus on her in particular.” Sambuca walked with her chin high and her polite tone grated on Jack worse than anything, he had wanted to see her miserable after that dramatic outburst and leaving her position with Statesmen, the fact that she was so fucking unaffected made him angry.

There was hurt, too, that it’d been so easy for her to walk away from him; that him shielding her from the worst parts of the job was taken as an insult.

“After Statesmen confirmed what your team found, that the group you apprehended on the outskirt of Freetown territory was in fact working with the group that managed to get a hold of Pi the first time, I requested an audience with Chieftain Ka’ros. He claims to have been clueless that his people were working with werepuma on this side of the portal but Lu could sense that he was lying, we know that Statesmen won’t get involved with matters on our side of the Portal but you are no longer one of them.” Sambuca followed the Witch to the center desk and Jack felt his chest tighten, the idea that Sambuca was going to run off into the Summer Realms and fight a bunch of ogres in the name of the Blazevale Herd on her own was one that he shouldn’t care about.

But he was worried, she was just a single foxwoman with only Trickster magic at her disposal, and it’d be another thing the Council would hold over him if something happened to her. Jack also knew that as much as he hated her it’d tear him up if something happened to the foxwoman.

“Excuse me, but there are strict laws in place over hiring a private citizen for work beyond the portal, I apologize but the process would take longer than if you just allowed Statesmen to handle things. Or we could elevate this to the full FBMI if you would prefer.” Councilman Qarn leaned forward in his seat with a sympathy laden look on his face and Jack noticed the brief flash of something mixed with outrage that Sambuca masked almost immediately, the foxwoman looked over at the old psychic and Qarn’s eyes darted to look at her only briefly.

Whatever was going on with Sambuca and the Council was clearly part of the reason they were even here rather than the fact that this was a political nightmare in the waiting, and Jack wanted to know what the hell was going on because he was tired of feeling like he was some onlooker in a game.

“Is Statesmen not a branch of the FBMI, Councilman? My King and Queen hardly trust your agents as it stands, we would rather handle this ourselves if you will not allow us to call on an ally we do trust.” The bite in the Witch’s voice was sharp and Qarn’s jaw visibly tightened at the rebuttal.

“That information is wrong, Councilman. As stated in the Oqune Alliance Act, when the pact between the peoples of the Summer Realm was created there were additional considerations made for those of Faerie considered closer to the natural Wilding Magics including the Unicorn Herds. As a species closely entwined with the living magic and unable to cast the same variety of spells that other Faerie kind are known for, they are allowed to call on even a private citizen as if they are a government agent should the need arise.” Sambuca’s voice was calm and strong, the fact that her knowledge of the law was so deep tickled his suspicions just a little bit about why the council was so protective of her, and Qarn looked like she’d just slapped him in the face.

“The foxwoman is correct, Qarn, we have a law in place that allows it; you will work with the Blazevale Herd to find and eliminate this threat, yes?” Councilwoman Sasan’te interrupted before the psychic could even reply, earning a nod from Sambuca, and Jack refused to back down on this case; not when it was something he had been working on first.

“Triple Sec and I will help.”

“Hell no.”

The two words shot out of your mouth faster than you could even hope to catch them, the growl in your tone was a clear warning, and Whiskey’s eyes narrowed on you as your eyes locked. There was no way in the Trickster’s name you were allowing him to stay involved when he’d proven incompetent, when he’d purposefully kept you in the dark and tried to sideline you, not when this was now your case to handle. Champ frowned and drummed his fingers on the desktop while the weight of your grandfather’s presence weighed heavier on your mind as he tried to use his powers to sway your choice, all of Tia’s protective spell work holding strong at least.

“Unfortunately all the information we’ve gained thus far is with Statesmen, I am temporarily reinstating your position as Agent Sambuca and you’ll be working with Agents Whiskey and Triple Sec, you however are the lead on this case. If either of them try to take over or act against your command they are to be removed from the assignment.” Councilwoman Sasan’te was no-nonsense and, unfortunately, didn’t care about personal squabbles. Which was entirely fair given the situation, there was a group targeting a royal of the Blazevale Herd, but you hated the look of triumph on Whiskey’s stupid face.

Champ nodded and tossed you something, your badge, with a nod and a tight-lipped expression that was all displeasure. If you weren’t dealing with a political nightmare you might’ve flipped him off.

“This will allow you to contact me directly in Oqune, I will inform you if there are any changes on our side of the portals when you’re here on yours.” You nodded at Priestess Kahlia, watching as she got up to leave, and you bit back the snarl after taking the pendant from the woman now that the others wouldn’t have to temper anything they said. The door closed loudly and Whiskey held his hand out, as if you’d just give him the pendant or something, and a snarl that wasn’t yours echoed in the silence of the room.

Champ stood up and pointed right at the coyote with a scowl as clear as anything on his face.

“We wouldn’t be dealing with this if you did your damn job, Whiskey, Sambuca is in charge and that’s the end of it. Now listen to her orders or I’m gonna send you back to desk duty until I think you’re able to handle working on a team again.” You could honestly not believe what you were hearing, the fact that nobody wanted to take responsibility for how they yanked your chain around your entire career was making you angrier than ever, and your grandfather had the audacity to look smug.

“Actually, we wouldn’t be in this position if you didn’t try to treat me with kit gloves, you’re just as at fault as he is Champ and you know it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to head to evidence to get started, let’s go Trip. You too Whiskey.” As much as you didn’t like the coyote for his attitude you didn’t think it was fair that Champ was trying to pin him with the blame for all of it, not when it was mainly your grandfather at fault for the way you’d left, and you weren’t at all surprised when Ginger got out of her chair to follow after you.

The other woman was your closest ally in Statesmen, she’d known the entire truth about your past and why this was as big of a three ring circus as it was, so she’d reached out after you quit to apologize and promise that she was still your friend no matter what. As the door closed behind the four of you it was impossible not to feel more tense, not knowing exactly what Whiskey was thinking. He wasn’t talking, just stewing quietly, and you were unsure of whether that was something you liked or not.

“We’re working on combing through the data that we got from the raid earlier, and we have the files from the first raid out for cross referencing.” Triple Sec opened the door to the evidence room, there were folders of papers everywhere along with computers open and reading through hard drives of data, and you relished in being able to use the knowledge drilled into you from your childhood lessons at long last.

“Alright, we’ll divide and conquer, Ginger can handle the hard drives while the rest of us go over all the hard copies. We need to find out why they’re targeting Pi specifically, whether its to get a ransom or something worse.” You didn’t know a lot about spell casting, what you did know came from Tia and her knowledge was limited given that she was entirely self-taught, but there was always the chance that someone found a way to harvest magic or even parts of other magic born and creatures to cast much more dangerous spells and rituals.

“Hey Sambuca?” Whiskey’s voice was soft, which was honestly a first, and you turned your head to glance at the coyote. He looked contemplative, his expression flat to avoid giving anything away, and after you tilted your head to let him continue the man cleared his throat lightly.

“Thanks for earlier, with Champ.” You nodded and turned back to what you were reading through, biting the inside of your cheek as you wondered just what was going on with him. It couldn’t be that you’d basically told Champ off for him, Whiskey would never appreciate something like that from you.

“He and the Council are the ones at the most fault, Whiskey, I still don’t appreciate how I was treated but I don’t blame you completely for what I have no doubt Champ instructed you to do. Can’t exactly form a solid team with someone who thinks you’re incapable. Fucking Qarn.”

Jack almost missed your last remark, the curse against the councilman was muttered with so much anger and disdain, and he didn’t quite get why you disliked the man so much but what he did know was that you were willing to play nice so he could too. The silence that settled as everyone began to work on their delegated task allowed his mind to wander, to question if Qarn was the reason the agency had been ordered to sideline you, though it made absolutely no sense at all why.

He wondered if you’d done something to piss off the old psychic, the Council and High Council were fickle and arrogant -took one to know one- so it wouldn’t be too bizarre that something small seen as an offense could lead to that much behind the scenes bullshit. Jack only felt a little guilty at the idea that he’d brushed you aside so quickly, he couldn’t exactly change what he’d done, but the way your shoulders moved and caused the sweater you were wearing to shift only made the smell of the SIEA agent you’d been with stronger.

That jealous feeling stirred back in his gut, despite how much he didn’t fucking care, and Jack hated that you could get him like this. Pollyanna was going to be so fucking upset when he got back all riled up, he couldn’t lie to his lady if he tried, it was one of the reasons she hadn’t liked you so much because she knew he’d been interested until you’d set that bite of yours on him the first time he had to tell you off for trying to get involved in the portals.

A glance over at you, watching your eyes skim the papers, reminded Jack that it didn’t matter anymore.

“Found something, you two ever heard of an Elemental Binding Pact?” Triple Sec’s question had both you and Jack looking over at him, your eyes narrowed in thought, and after a minute you shook your head before glancing at Ginger. The kestrel shifter grabbed her tablet, likely looking through the database sent over by the Consortium, before her tongue clicked loudly.

“A ritual performed by Dark Nature mages, it requires the sacrifice of a magic being to serve as the Elemental’s physical body.” Jack met your shocked gaze and Trip’s curse was cut off as you grabbed the pendant and activated the spell, the foreign magic that had been hidden under your aura made his throat tighten at the idea of someone else marking you but he reminded himself that you weren’t his and never would be.

“Kahlia, is Princess Pi still safe with the herd?” “Yes, the King and Queen have been keeping her close.” “Can you inspect her aura, and tell me if it’s her magic?”

Jack could practically hear the gears turning in your head, the idea that in the time he’d failed to find the filly she had been used for the ritual and left to be found, and his heart was pounding at the disaster that would be if it was true.

“It’s hers but there is a strange magic clinging to her, I’ll work on purging it and bolstering the protective spells on her in the mean time.” “Thank the Trickster for small mercies, whoever this group is working for means to bind an Elemental to her body, I think it’s a way to gain control of the herd but we have no base for that yet.” “I shall inform the King and Queen, thank you, do whatever you must to protect the herd.”

You let the pendant fall back against your chest and sighed, turning to look at Trip and then him and Ginger with a determined expression on your face.

“We still have the perps? Have they talked?”

“They’re here, we haven’t gotten to talk to them yet.” Your eyes flashed at Jack’s confirmation and then settled on him, something burning in them that he couldn’t quite read.

“Whiskey, make them talk, whatever means necessary.” His eyes widened before a smirk curled across his face, not even Champ let him have a ‘whatever means necessary’ go at anyone before, he should have known that a Trickster would know what he could do better than an Ursa.

“Trip, keep going through hard copies and Ginger you stay on digital, I’m going to go down to make sure nobody stops Whiskey.”

“Trust me darlin’ I will have those canaries singin’ in no time.” He watched your nose wrinkle and even though the gesture still made him angry, it felt like you were looking down on him, Jack was ready to get this case closed so you could go separate ways for good.

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