#whiskey daniels

[sanarsi]

Welcome tooooo

you little slut 🫵🏼

All stories are written by me and most of them are intended for MDNI.

!If you are a minor, please leave my profile!

All stories are fiction and are not intended to offend anyone.

If you love Pedro Pascal and his characters, I invite you to enjoy

If you like any of my stories, please leave a comment/reblog, it means A LOT to me, thank you!

Also, all fics are available under this hashtag - #sanarsi fic

CONTENT MARKINGS

Fluff - 🧁 / Angst - 🫧 / Smut - 🦢 / Dark - 🕷️

*mini series include more than 3 and less than 5 parts

Goddess 🧁🦢

husband!Oberyn Martell x f!Reader

Just you and your husband who love each other very much.

Royal Vows 🦢

groom!Oberyn Martell x f!Reader

The wedding of members of the royal family carries with it obligations. One of them is the consummation of the marriage.

Eight woman 🫧🦢

Oberyn Martell x f!Reader

Oberyn is tormented by memories of you after you decided to leave him.

For Us

lover!dark!Oberyn Martell x f!Reader

Coming soon

Make You Mine

Oberyn Martell x f!Reader

Coming soon

Desert Rose

Oberyn Martell x f!Reader

Coming soon

Birthday present 🦢

Javier Peña x f!Reader

You're the daughter of one of Columbia's godfathers. Agent Peña decides to surprise you on your twenty-fifth birthday.

To be loved by a woman 🦢

dbf!Javier Peña x f!Reader

Javier Peña has been in your life for as long as you can remember. The perfect friend for your father. A gentleman with a charming smile and good taste. How can he resist you if he knows you feel the same way about him?

It’s just business 🦢

Javier Peña x informant!f!Reader

As one of the drug cartels' representatives, you were incredibly useful to Agent Peña. However, he can't stop his habit of fucking his informants.

Forbidden fruit 🦢 part 2 for "It’s just business”

Javier Peña x informant!f!Reader

Your affair with Agent Peña was wrong and you both knew it. But how could he resist you when he was starting to fall for you?

Candy

Javier Peña x f!Reader

Coming soon

You are a good man

husband!Javier Peña x wife!f!Reader

Coming soon

Betrayal

coworker!lover!Jack Daniels x spy!f!Reader

Coming soon

Mini Series

Sex, Drugs and Rock’n’Roll 🧁🫧🦢

rockstar!Frankie Morales x f!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Young rock star Frankie Morales and his band "Triple Frontier" are slowly climbing towards fame. Your luck allowed you to meet him when they were still playing in bars. The passionate feelings that arose between you opened the door to a completely different world. Sex, drugs and a lot of Rock. The road to the world of fame is never strewn with roses and the problems you encounter put many things to the test. What can come out of the mixture of the three most addictive things in the world if not chaos.

One Shots

You

Frankie Morales x dark!f!Reader

Coming soon

Remember that night in Monaco?

Frankie Morales x f!Reader

Coming soon

Brat

Frankie Morales x f!Reader

Coming soon

Parenthood

ex!Frankie Morales x f!Reader

Coming soon

Series

Bounty Hunting

Din Djarin x jedi!princess!f!Reader

Coming soon

One Shots

Gardens of Eden

Din Djarin x goddess!f!Reader

Another bounty hunt goes wrong when he comes across a creature whose influence changes his view of everything.

Siren Song

Din Djarin x siren!f!Reader

Coming soon

Blood Moon

dark!Din Djarin x f!Reader

Coming soon

If the world is burning

Din Djarin x f!Reader

Coming soon

Black Widow

Din Djarin x f!Reader

Coming soon

Lovely Mornings

Marcus Moreno x nanny!f!Reader

Coming soon

Flying days and nights 🫧

ex-boyfriend!Dieter Bravo x f!Reader

You and Dieter broke up because of his addiction. Despite that, he's going to do anything to have you in his arms again.

Men Suck

Dieter Bravo x f!Reader

Coming soon

The Bubble

Dieter Bravo x f!Reader

Coming soon

My Best Friend

Dieter Bravo x f!Reader

Coming soon

Mini Series

Dark Arts - Harry Potter AU

defence against the dark arts teacher!Joel Miller x student!f!Reader

Coming soon

One Shots

Pink Braids 🧁

no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Joel decided to take his daughter on vacation for a few days. The sea and the beach were the perfect destination for a short break. Joel could never resist Sarah's charms. The stand selling colorful braids was no exception.

You’re doing great, sweetie 🦢

no-outbreak!professor!Joel Miller x student!f!Reader

You came to your professor to ask for help with your essay. He accidentally discovers one of your dirty secrets which is him.

Controversially young girlfriend 🫧🦢

post-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Joel finally finds his brother. He's not too happy to hear how he got on with his life without him. But his brother is also not happy to meet his new partner - you. Or Joel fucks you to comfort you.

One of your girls 🦢

post-outbreak!Joel Miller x virgin!f!Reader

Joel was known for treating women well in bed. That's why, on your eighteenth birthday, you decided to give him your virginity.

We Have It All 🫧

pre/post-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

You and Joel were separated by the outbreak.

Without Me 🫧

post-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Joel was not a good man and the consequences of his actions eventually caught up to him.

Man’s Love 🧁🦢

no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Joel is your neighbor who doesn't hide his feelings for you and won't give up on winning your heart despite your rejections.

Private lessons 🦢

no-outbreak!instructor!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Joel gives you private horse riding lessons.

Everything we did that summer 🦢

step-uncle!no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

You resisted getting close to Joel, afraid of what might happen then. Well, his affection for you destroyed everything you had worked for.

Summer 2014 🦢

bfd!no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

What happens if you find out you're attracted to your best friend's father? Well, Joel is more than willing to show you that.

But daddy, I love him! 🫧🦢

older boyfriend!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Your controversial old boyfriend is back from his deployment. Your father is against your relationship. Or Joel fucks you on his motorcycle.

Sweet treat 🦢🕷️

perv!neighbor!Joel Miller x f!Reader

You came to your family home for a vacation. The obsession that is born in Joel pushes him to do very bad things.

Euphoria 🫧🦢

professor!Joel Miller x student!f!Reader

One wrong call led to this, that instead of your boyfriend, it's your professor who picks you up from the party.

Your faith 🫧🦢🕷️

post-outbreak!dark!Joel Miller x f!Reader

You are locked up, at the will of your tormentor who only wants you to love him.

Favourite Lamb 🦢

post-Jackson!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Joel finally has what he wanted – a quiet life, a farm, and you. After a hard day at work, you're eager to take care of your man.

I can be useful

post-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Coming soon

Friendly neighborhood

neighbour!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Coming soon

Birthday Boy

husband!Joel Miller x wife!f!Reader

Coming soon

Valentine’s Day

stepfather!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Coming soon

Malibu

professor!Joel Miller x student!f!Reader

Coming soon

Camping

bfd!no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Coming soon

Welcome to the Wild West

post-outbreak!Joel Miller x cowgirl!f!Reader

Coming soon

Little angel

stepfather!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Coming soon

Hot Pink

no-outbreak!Joel Miller x stripper!f!Reader

Coming soon

A Fulfilled Man

post-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Coming soon

Victory’s your only payment 🫧🦢🕷️

lover!Marcus Acacius x f!Reader

Your general has betrayed you. Your anger is greater than the love you have for him, so you send him to the arena to fight for his last breath.

More Wine

Marcus Acacius x prostitute!f!Reader

Coming soon

Gratitude Award

Marcus Acacius x f!Reader

Coming soon

Paid internship 🦢

professor!Reed Richards x student!f!Reader

You don't have enough money to pay for your internship. Prof. Richards finds another way for you to pay him back.

Physics in Practice 🫧🦢

stepfather!professor!Reed Richards x student!f!Reader

You accidentally discover that your stepfather has a shameful soft spot for you. Reed has to deal with everything you decide to serve him after that.

Cheri Cheri Lady 🦢

stepfather!Reed Richards x f!Reader

Your stepdad fucks you on a sun lounger.

Sugar

Reed Richards x sugar baby!f!Reader

Coming soon

Girl Meal Series 🦢

Pedro Pascal characters x f!Reader

AU where all four boys are your friends and provide you with one, very intense day. From breakfast to dessert.

Kinktober 2024 🧁🫧🦢🕷️

Pedro Pascal characters x f!Reader

31 kinks with 10 Pedro Pascal boys for each of the 31 days of October

Okay so that’s it bestieee

Hope you enjoyed xx

[perotovar]

@ghostofaboy asked: jack daniels or joel miller | in/sp

[nicolethered]

Pedro as Agent Whiskey behind the scenes of Kingsman: The Golden Circle (2017)

[din-jarring]

bts of kingsman: the golden circle

inside the golden circle ( x )

GOOFBALL

[survivingandenduring]

Agent Whiskey bts vs the scene

[freelancearsonist]

in our ivory tower

➔ Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x f!Reader

➔ 1.1k words

➔ You enjoy the view from the top with your boss.

➔ Rated MA // unprotected p in v sex, creampie/cum play, gratuitous groping, semi-public sex, a little dash of exhibition kink, power dynamics kind of // reader has female anatomy and uses feminine pronouns, reader is generally able-bodied

The view from the top floor of the Statesman skyscraper is breathtaking. You’ve been here for months at this point and you still don’t think you’ll ever truly get used to it. You swear you can see all the way to the other end of Manhattan from here–miles and miles of glistening steel and glass that make you feel so inconsequential, so anonymous. It’s a good feeling. 

The Statesman tower is a far cry from the little apartment in Hell’s Kitchen that you share with three roommates–this is luxurious, decadent. Everything is modern and brand new, everyone is dressed to perfection in clothes that probably cost more than you make over the course of a month. You’ve always felt like you don’t quite belong here–you might’ve even quit by now if it weren’t for your gorgeous view and the gorgeous boss.

The panorama of the city skyline is only elevated by the gut-clenching thrill you get when you’re pressed up against the sturdy, full-length window like this, with your boss pounding into your pussy from behind like there’s no tomorrow.

There’s always a little paranoid thought in the back of your mind, as you look down at the street a hundred stories below you, that you’d be fucked if the glass gave way. Not that Jack would ever let anything happen to you–he’s proven time and time again just how capable he is.

“That’s it, hmm?” He grunts with a particularly delicious thrust that slams his cockhead right into your g-spot. “Righ’ there, sugar?”

He’s always been able to find it with seemingly no effort. He folds you over like it’s nothing, hands sliding up from their tight grip over the bunched-up skirt on your hips so he can grab greedily at your breasts through the soft fabric of your shirt. His skilled fingers can find your nipples with ease even through the layers–it never fails to impress, much less to draw a loud moan from your lips.

“Atta girl.” He growls–a sound so low and animalistic that it makes your walls clamp down around him–so close to your ear that you can feel the bristly scratch of his mustache and the warm, panting breaths that are punched from his lungs with each thrust against your neck.

Your thighs are trembling with every vicious stroke of his cock, desperate for the release he’s been steadily working your towards. He’s always liked to play with his meal–to draw it out until you’re begging and crying for it.

You can feel the delicious friction of his denim-clad thighs against the back of yours, hear the clink of his belt buckle as his hips work. It’s easy to forget that anyone could walk into this conference room right now, anyone could look up out a window and see you being pulled apart.

Your fingers clutch uselessly at the smooth glass in a feeble attempt to steady yourself, but there’s no saving you. Not when you’re this close, not when you can feel his plush lips ghosting against your pulse point and his fingers are shoving under the neckline of your shirt to get a better feel of what he’s been pawing at.

“God damn, this cunt,” he grunts lowly–his thrusts are losing their rhythm, you know he’s getting close. “Sweeter ’n stolen honey.”

One of his broad palms gives up the delightful attack on your chest to skate down the length of your stomach and find your clit. He’s familiar enough with your body now, after months of sneaking around together like this–he knows exactly the right pace and pressure to use in order to have you crumbling in his arms.

And crumble you do–with a moan that you try to muffle behind your bitten lip, you shatter. Your entire body shakes with the force of your orgasm, barely held up if not for your palms against the glass and Jack’s hands moving swiftly to your hips to steady you.

He’s not far behind–a couple more deliciously firm thrusts have him pressed balls-deep into your messy cunt, filling you to the very brim with his cum until it’s leaking out around his softening length.

There’s a blissfully long moment where he stays crowding you against the window, hot breath flickering up the length of your neck from where he’s pressing open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder. 

“A’right, darlin’?” There’s something so tender behind that whispered question in combination with the way his lips can’t seem to leave your skin. Almost loving.

You choke down whatever feelings you’re perceiving–imagined or real–and give a little nod. “Mhm.”

He pulls out with a quiet groan that makes it sound as if he’s in pain over being parted from you. One of those warm hands of his comes up and curves around your jaw, pulling your lips to his in a sweet kiss that’s a far cry from the way he was fucking you just a moment ago. He pushes his tongue against your bottom lip as his other hand sneaks down between your legs, fingertips ghosting against your over-sensitive cunt before he pulls your ruined panties back into their proper place.

“Clean these up for me?” 

You’re accepting his cum-smeared fingers into your mouth before you can think of a response. His jaw drops open at the way you swirl your tongue around them, always so dedicated to doing exactly what he asks of you. Always striving to go above and beyond.

“Should give you a raise,” he murmurs, his voice a little high-pitched in a way that makes you smirk proudly.

You let his fingers go with an audible pop. “I wouldn’t turn it down, Mr. Daniels.”

You try to ignore the steady leak of his spend dripping into your underwear as you tug your skirt back into place. It’s only just past noon–you have plenty of work to get done, starting with clearing the conference table of all the rubble left behind from the meeting that concluded shortly before Jack got his hands on you.

You see it as he’s tucking himself back into those sinfully tight jeans–two smudgy handprints on the otherwise impeccable glass. You feel vaguely guilty on behalf of the cleaning crew who’ll have to deal with that tonight.

Jack doesn’t seem to have the same inclination. He shoots a wink your way as he picks his black Stetson up off the conference table and sets it on his head. “Have those meetin’ notes ready by the end a’day, ‘kay?”

“Yes sir,” you answer dutifully. It’s only one of the many reasons you’re his favorite employee.

➔ beta: @schnarfer ; dividers: @saradika-graphics

➔ Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics!

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[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Pressing

Jack Daniels x F!Reader, dude ranch AU

A Palomino oneshot, but can be read on its own

{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E

Summary: Jack marks you as his in an unexpected way.

Warnings: PWP, Jack's belt leaves an impression on reader's skin, unintentional branding, unprotected sex, long-distance relationship, desperate and feral cowboy, no physical descriptions of Reader, very lightly edited, written as part of the Palomino universe, set after the end of the series, but can be read as a oneshot on its own

Word count: 1.4k

Notes: This little story came from an ask sent in by 🐴 anon in December 2022, which I have long lost, about a song that mentions a guy’s belt buckle leaving marks on his girlfriend's inner thigh while fucking. Naturally, they thought of Jack’s belt. 🐴 anon, if you’re still here, thank you for the inspo and for your patience ❤️

Also thank you to @lola-lola-lola for getting me horn knee about our cowboy again 😘 Writing Palomino smut first thing in the year was not on my 2024 bingo card, and I’m not mad about it!

Cutest dividers by @firefly-graphics.

It’s been two and a half months. Week after wretched week of phone calls on stolen time. Day after day of aching to reach through the phone screen and the distance between you to touch him.

It’s hard being hundreds and hundreds of miles apart. It’s even harder on weeks when he’s in the mountains with no reception. Harder to find time to call when you have to work late and he has to get up at dawn.

But you endure it all - for days like this. 

It’s a rare weekend off in the high season, with Teak pulling back-to-back pack trips to cover for him, joking that he can’t take all his sighing and pining for his Darlin’ anymore.

Jack takes the last flight out on Friday night, arriving first thing on Saturday morning, before the city - or you - wake up. You’re half-buried under the duvet when the jingle of the key in the door jolts you from shallow slumber.

On unsteady feet, you wobble out into the hallway, crashing into the walls as you go, balance off-kilter from sleep.

But it’s ok - he catches you, all white t-shirt and tight blue jeans. Incognito, if you will, in casual sneakers, but the cowboy hat is on as always. You knock it off post-haste, burying your face in the side of his neck in a desperate need for contact, his warmth seeping into your skin and wrapping you up in the deepest of comforts.

His hair is longer than he usually keeps it, and your fingers twist into his tousled curls when you pull back, taking in the stubble on his sharp jawline, and his tired eyes. But before you can say anything, he leans in and slants his lips over yours.

The taste of airplane coffee is sharp and bitter on his tongue as he kisses you deep and messy. You startle when he suddenly slams the door shut behind him, not realising it was still open, and his beat-up weekend bag is tossed carelessly behind him somewhere in the doorway. 

The legs of the kitchen table scrape jarringly against the floor as he crowds you onto it, big hands cupping your ass and pulling you against his straining erection through his jeans.

‘Fuck, it’s been too long, darlin’.’ His voice is gravelly from an apparently sleepless overnight flight, and hearing his voice finally on the shell of your ear has you whimpering needily.

‘Can’t wait any more,’ he growls, desperation thick in his voice.

With a flick of his wrists, he shucks off your ratty sleep shirt, eyes hooded as he gazes down at your tits, like he can’t believe he’s actually touching you. Cupping them, soft and heavy, with reverent, rope-worn palms, he sucks one nipple after the other between his lips, making you squirm against him and leak wet and sticky between your thighs.

Strong hands hold you in place easily as you buck, the scrape of his moustache almost painful on your over-sensitive skin, nerve endings on fire after being deprived for long weeks. 

Too impatient to wait, you tug your pyjamas shorts down your hips and kick them off clumsily, panties tangled in your damp folds as you writhe under him. 

You feel the breath catch in his broad chest at the peek of your pussy, a rapidly growing damp spot darkening your cotton underwear. Hooking his thumb under the fabric, he tugs it unceremoniously to the side, baring you to him. 

‘Look at all this,’ he marvels, tracing the fleshy pad of his thumb through your folds, making you arch clean off the table. ‘So wet for me and you’ve barely woken up.’

‘Been thinking about you the while night,’ you admit, hips twitching as you chase his touch. ‘Couldn’t sleep.’

‘Did you touch yourself, darlin’?’

You shake your head vehemently. ‘No. Wanted your fingers. Your cock.’

His nostrils flare at your answer, unabashedly possessive in the way he looms over you. 

‘Good girl,’ he murmurs into your throat, nosing the side of your neck while thick fingers thrum against your clit. ‘I was so hard for you the whole fuckin’ flight.’ 

As if to prove it to you - not that you need it - he rolls his hips into your inner thigh, the hard bulge undeniable.

You mewl, hooking your ankles around his waist. ‘Fuck me now, Jack - please.’

There’s a wordless fumble for the solid sterling flask bottle of his belt buckle, his usual level-headed composure nowhere to be found as he pushes down his jeans with shaking hands, just enough to pull his cock out of its denim confines - 

And then he thrusts home inside you.

After months of only your fingers, it’s a stretch. But what a delicious stretch it is.

You feel him throb deep inside you, feel the thunder of a pained groan in his chest, pressed up against yours. Your cunt is all slick and give to his determined strokes as he begins to move. 

There’s no finesse, hardly any awareness, when he fucks frantically into you. His solid weight pins you to the table, and it rattles precariously under your back.

Your legs are splayed obscenely wide and bent at the knees while Jack pounds into your wet heat, eyes wild and mouth hanging open, watching your tits bounce as you take him, your nails digging into the cotton of his white t-shirt. He never did take off your panties, and the fabric rubs your clit just so with every one of his thrusts, rapidly sending you to the edge.

In the back of your mind, you’re aware of the coarse scrape of his jeans against your inner thighs, and something digs hard into the tender skin, the repeated motion dulling the sensation to an almost numb pressure. 

When you cum, you’re crying out before your head catches up, your body convulsing with blind bliss as your pussy clenches around him in a hot rush. The blood pounding in your ears is drowned out by your chants of his name, and then his hips start to stutter and his whole body tenses, frantic eyes on yours as he teeters on the edge. 

‘Where, darlin’?’

‘Inside me.’

The words have barely left you and he’s coming, broken pants against your lips as he comes and comes and comes - spilling inside you, filling you to the brim until he’s empty, turned inside out.

Slumped, boneless on top of you, humid pants pressed into your shoulder, his fingers tangle with yours, squeezing as if to let you know that he’s here.

You almost doze off, the gradually slowing rise and fall of the cowboy’s broad chest a comforting anchor, when he rouses you with gentle lips along your jaw. You giggle, feeling him softening and sliding out of you, making a mess of your kitchen table. 

‘Mornin’ darlin’,’ he says somewhat belatedly, warm eyes crinkling as he smiles at you.

‘Morning,’ you grin back, and when he shifts, you wince at the ache in your joints from being pinned to one spot for this very vigorous wake up call. His hands smooth over your legs in apology, and you jump when his fingertips brush over somewhere at the juncture of your upper thigh that is surprisingly sore.

‘What’s that?’ you ask, puzzled.

Jack doesn’t answer, curiously quiet. You look down to where he’s bracketed between your legs, watching him trace his index finger over the unmistakable imprint of his distinct belt buckle on the inside of your thigh, where it’s been digging into your skin the whole time. 

He glances at you. ‘I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?’

‘No, you didn’t,’ you give him a knowing grin. ‘And are you really sorry, cowboy?’

He doesn’t even have the decency to look sheepish. Gently pinching your swollen folds together, he groans when a milky bead of his cum dribbles out of you, running down the inside of your leg and smearing onto the flask-shaped impression.

‘Ain’t sorry about somethin’ that looks this good on you, darlin’.’

‘Could’ve asked me before you branded me, you know,’ you half-joke, running your own finger along the deep lines carved into your skin, for now.

‘Beggin’ your pardon, I tend to forget my manners when I’m balls deep in a pussy as sweet as yours,’ he retorts, one eyebrow arching when he feels you shiver at his words.

You huff in jest, ‘Doesn’t sound like much of an apology if you asked me.’

‘Whatcha want, darlin’? Me on my hands and knees for you?’

Heat flashes under your skin, from your cheeks down to your toes, and Jack’s eyes darken as his tongue wets his bottom lip. ‘Alright. I hear you loud and clear, ma’am.’

Slowly, he sinks onto his knees in front of you, his joints creaking endearingly as he goes, and you can’t help but tease, ‘Easy there, cowboy.’

The wicked tip of his tongue peeks out, and you bite your lip in a moan when it cleverly traces the outline of the belt buckle on your skin, ending in a playful nip that pulls a gasp from you.

With an unapologetically smug grin, Jack winks. ‘I’m only just gettin’ started, darlin’.’

Note: Thank you for reading ❤️ I’ve missed these two, and if you’re new to Palomino, I hope you’ll give the series a chance!

[dingustripas]

I just finished watching Glass Onion for the third time so now you get to hear my rant about it but the details are out of order in the timeline because I’m lazy

(SPOILERS AHEAD)

When Miles lifts the gun off of Duke, we can actually see it pre-Blanc explaining it. The scene where the two hug you can see Miles take the gun and slip it into the back of his jeans.

Following the gun thing, we, the viewers actually SEE the gun itself (pre-Blanc’s explanation) when Miles goes back to the mini bar to put it in the ice bucket. Although it’s kind of hard to see it’s very clearly a gun but our eyes manipulate our minds into thinking it’s a drink because it is indeed a minibar.

They show how Miles places the drink in Dukes hand pre Blanc’s explanation but quickly distract us with the groups dynamic and Birdie.

Phillip is skeptical of Helen when she asks for Blanc, we can assume that he and Blanc have had negative run ins with people from jobs. Also Phillip might be judging Helen’s character, who she is, because he doesn’t want to put Blanc into a situation where he’s in true danger. He’s a detective not Batman.

Birdies mask at the beginning of the movie at the boat is just fucking chains across her face in diamond pattern.

Blanc doesn’t have a gag reflex when the dude in the white suit puts Miles “covid vax” down his throat. (Bc he’s 🏳️‍🌈)

Andi, when she first comes up with the idea for Alpha and starts working with Miles, is wearing dark colors. The dark blue pinstripe suit, her completely black ensamble when we see her at the Glass Onion (the bar). But when she’s challenging Miles she’s wearing both Black and white. At the trial she’s wearing a light almost off white suit. Why is this important? Because what color is Helen wearing when she shuts miles down? White. The color white is, in itself, a color that symbolizes Miles downfall.

Connecting back to the white idea, Whiskey is wearing all white (her bathing suit) when she reveals crucial information about Miles giving her the Taurus necklace for her birthday. (Which leads to his downfall when Blanc puts 2+2 together that he killed Andi)

“Im really bad at dumb things” -Blanc. The reason he didn’t catch on to what was going on with Miles earlier was because Miles is stupid. Miles is so dumb that he fucking befuddled Blanc because Miles is so stupid.

Blanc isn’t uncomfortable about his arousal around Birdie when she put her legs up on him while Miles talks about being ‘Disrupters’. He’s uncomfortable because he’s GAY and has a BOYFRIEND/HUSBAND.

There’s a bunch of owls and small trinkets of birds in Birdies room.

The movie, at the very beginning, with Miles mystery invitation box thing hints at where the envelope is hidden. The fibonacci sequence on the box has the center blocked out in black, where we will later see in the film is red which is where Miles is hiding the envelope. For fucks sake the movie even goes out of its way, with Dukes mother, to point out the sequence. (“The first one’s a fibonacci sequence” -Dukes mom).

During the dinner Whiskey is wearing the same golden chain body jewelry that Birdie was wearing earlier at the pool. So this could mean two things: 1. They have the same chain and 2. Whiskey borrowed the chain from Birdie.

Now connecting to my first point about the chain jewelry above. The reason why Miles likes Whiskey, despite her sleeping with him for the sake of Dukes channel, is because Whiskey reminds him of younger Birdie. Birdie even talks to Peg about how dazzled and amazed Miles was when he first met her and how she wishes it was like that again. Then when they’re smashing the glass sculptures, the first thing Whiskey smashes is a sculpture of a bird. Hence smashing Miles perception of her as another person he can use like he used Birdie.

“You have him turn around so he can have deniability” -Aaron Burr in Hamilton (Basically what Blanc was thinking when he walked out of the room)

When Blanc is trying to light his cigar in the “Smokeless garden” the reason the alarms go off is because because just the smoke and small flames from Blanc’s cigar could cause “another Hindenburg”.

The ending scene with Helen and Blanc after Blanc asks her if she’s ready to go home, Helen’s sitting stance mimics the Mona Lisa. Miles said “It all started with her” in reference to his success being inspired by the Mona Lisa. But it all ended with Helen and her stance at the end mimicking the Mona Lisa is meant to represent that. The beginning and end of Miles Bron.

Blanc refers to alchol as offering Helen “some courage”. Ofc as we all know alcohol is commonly referred to as “Liquid Courage”.

We should’ve known Miles was the killer for this simple reason: The glass he handed to Duke. Duke dying holding Miles’s glass is literally like a signed note. Duke died with Miles name literally written on the crime scene.

[sugadolly]

i think i need someone older ⸜❤︎⸝‍

[therealbeardedgent]

…

[palioom]

shower fun

summary: you come home and surprise Jack in the shower

pairing: agent whiskeyl x f!reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; shower sex/shower masturbation, established relationship

a/n: headers & dividers by @/saradika-graphics; not proof-read

• masterlist •

It wasn't often that she was the one to surprise Jack. Being able to leave work early and head home to their ranch right away, hoping he wasn’t out to run errands like he often was. Because usually it was him who surprised her - returning from a mission a few days early after several days of no contact. Purposefully not telling her he was coming home sooner than expected so he could swoop her up in his arms and hear her surprised yelp and giggle.

The things he truly loved and missed the most, even though he kept playing a certain voice message she had sent him ages ago, telling Jack how much she loved him. Hearing the real deal would always be better.

Opening the door to their little house, she was greeted with silence. Silence, which had her disappointed, because for once she wanted to be the one to scoop him up and make him laugh. Well, try to, at least. Lifting Jack up wasn’t an easy feat, though she loved to try.

She already thought about what to make for dinner as she put her purse down on the small bench by the front door when she realized that it wasn’t as silent as it seemed. The soft hissing of the shower was only audible once she had paused for a second, the disappointment she felt now making space for excitement. 

Suddenly the thought of having to peel and boil potatoes and chop vegetables and sear meat was replaced with the image of Jack’s naked, muscular body. Hair wet and clinging to his forehead, the water droplets running over his tan skin, tracing every dip and curve before falling onto the floor and running into the drain.

So much more exciting than making fucking dinner.

For a brief moment she did think about announcing her presence, taking off her jacket and hanging it up next to his dark leather jacket, then taking off her thin scarf. But knowing how lost he could get in the safety of the shower here at home at times, she was curious to see and just watch him for a moment.

She decided against it, quickly taking off her shoes before making her way upstairs. 

Her excitement grew with every further step up, the hissing becoming louder. But so were some… other noises. Ones she quickly recognized as Jack’s voice, groaning and whimpering, just barely audible beyond the sound of the water.

“Fuck, sugar…”

Sneaking towards the en-suite bathroom of their shared bedroom, she stopped at the sight in front of her. 

Bracing himself against the tiled wall with his forearm, his head resting against it and looking down to where his large hand was wrapped around his erect cock. The water ran over his flexing muscles and the tan skin, littered with small bruises and scars all over him, hugging his broad back, the small waist, his nice, round ass. She couldn’t see his face, hidden by his arm and his bulging biceps, but she could imagine the look on his face as his hand kept stroking himself.

It was far from the first time she found him like this, but she was mesmerized nonetheless. The way his hips stuttered forward into his fist with a grunt, before he wrapped it tightly around the base and stilled for a moment.

“Easy, cowgirl.” Jack hissed in that southern drawl of his, squeezing the base harder while his hips kept moving. Oh, what she would give to be inside of his head right now, see what exactly he was fantasizing about. “Gonna make this bull bust early.”

No matter what it was, it was insanely hot. To have him fuck his own fist because he couldn’t wait for her to get home? Hear him talk like this, not knowing she was in the room?

Was there anything better than that?

Besides having him pound her into next week, of course. Nothing would ever be better than the sore feeling that came from him and his cock buried deep inside of her, her legs spread around his waist.

She kept watching as she opened the buttons of her blouse, her thighs pressing together at the whimper that left him once his fist moved up higher, using short strokes right at the head.

“You know how to handle a bull, sugar- Fuck-”

A small smile crept onto her face, her fingers speeding up as warmth spread through her body. Excitement took over her, wanting to be in the shower with him before he fucked his fist to completion. She wanted to be the one making him cum, wrap her fingers around him and play with his balls until he spilled all over her hand. 

It’s been a while since it’s been all about Jack. He was so much of a generous lover that he rarely took without giving back to her.

His hand moved back down to the base with a whimper, and she froze for a moment when he lifted his head, thinking she had been caught. But all Jack did was sink his teeth into the flesh of his forearm, his eyes screwed shut and his brows furrowed. Looking downright filthy like this.

The rest of her clothes swiftly landed in a pile at her feet before she tiptoed over, carefully opening the glass door before sliding in behind him and right against his back. Her arms encircled him from behind and she felt him stiffen for a moment when her hand moved to replace his own, his breath hitching in his throat.

“Sugar, what the-” He started but was cut off by her lips between his shoulder blades, stretching into a small smile when she felt him shudder.

“Surprise, cowboy.” She giggled, the water relaxing her as it ran over her body, her hand not yet moving but simply holding the heavy weight of his cock. It was nice to feel his muscles move beneath his skin, her other hand running up and down his side. “I’m here to handle my bull.”

His laugh vibrated through his body, soon turning into a groan when she began to pepper his back with small kisses, her hand starting off with slow, deliberate movements. He was too worked up and even though she knew he could hold back, she wanted this to last just a little for her own enjoyment.

She could feel his hips rut up into her fist, then pressing back into her. Clearly chasing more friction than she was giving him at the moment.

“Couldn’t wait for me to get home, Jack?” Her hand moved to the tip of his dick, stroking him in short but slow motions, similarly to how he had done it. Jack seemed to love it, moaning as his muscles flexed, his dark eyes only trained on her fingers. “Needed your cowgirl?”

He nodded, huffing out a short “yes, ma’am” while trying not to close his eyes from how good it felt. Just having to see this, mesmerized by her hand.

“Wanted you since the mornin’, darlin’.” Jack admitted, watching her hand move over the entire length of him now, her other hand resting on his thick thigh and squeezing. “Looked so darn cute, just wanted those lips ‘round my cock.”

“Which ones?” 

A laugh left him at her question.

She teasingly bit into the skin on his back, loving the jitter of his muscles beneath while he hand sped up. Gliding her thumb over the slit with each time, her other hand now inching closer to his cock, too. The water was almost forgotten, static background noise compared to Jack’s voice, the deep hum as her other hand cupped his heavy balls.

“My bull needs to be milked.” A shiver went up his spine when the words registered in his brain, a deep grunt leaving him while trying to keep his composure. She felt so good pressed up against him, her slippery breasts pressed against his back. Her voice saying those filthy things right behind him.

“Christ, sugar. Don’t say that.” He hissed, completely ignoring how that wasn’t even possible. It turned him on nonetheless, the stupid nickname he had given himself which now seemed to be his undoing. “Go easy on this old bull.”

“You never liked easy, Jack.” In a way she wished she could just give him what he had fantasized about and drop down to her knees to suck him off. Look him in the eyes as he came, watch his heavy, flushed dick bounce as he covered her in cum. But she quite enjoyed this, the warmth of him and not really being able to see. “Let this cowgirl take care of you just like she knows how to do.”

Jack couldn’t help but chuckle, quickly cut off by she twisted her hand around him with quick strokes, gently squeezing his balls.

He definitely wouldn’t last much longer than this, the way she stroked him was just how he liked it, making his spine tingle.

What a wicked thing he had gotten himself here, this sweet little lady that had turned out to be a teasing demon.

“Darlin’-” He choked out, a warning for her as her hand worked faster, his moans echoing in the small shower.

“I know, baby.” She cooed, leaning to the side so she could look past him and onto his cock. “Cum for me, show your cowgirl how much you appreciate her help.”

The groan that ripped through him was downright filthy, Jack’s dick twitching in her hand, his cum spilling all over her fingers, some hitting the tiles and dripping down. He wished the water wasn’t washing it all away immediately, loving when her fingers were coated in him, watching her hand move until he had completely spilled himself and his hips stopped moving.

“Jesus Christ, darlin’.” He breathed out, watching as she took her hands away. Already missing the feeling of them, her body moving away from his.

When he turned around, he found her smiling, sucking the last remnants of his cum off of her fingers. Grinning like the devil, clearly happy with what she had done.

Jack only shook his head with a grin of his own, then pulled her into him, pressing his lips onto hers, practically devouring her, his fingers pressing into her hips.

“Should we get a lil’ more dirty before we clean up, sugar?” His eyes twinkled as he asked her, drawing back for a moment. “Let this bull take his little lady for a ride?”

She shook her head with a laugh, even though the throbbing between her legs was driving her crazy. 

“Let’s get cleaned up so we can make dinner.” She pressed more kisses to his lips, his mustache tickling her lip. “There’s dessert for you after. Gotta keep my bull big and strong.”

Nothing had ever prompted Jack to finish a shower with her as quickly as her words had, more than keen to get to his dessert.

Knowing he would enjoy all of it.

[nicolethered]

Pedro as Agent Whiskey - Jack Daniels in Kingsman: The Golden Circle

[pedropascalito]

[perotovar]

the faceless series: jack edition | insp

[syd-djarin]

private eyes - jack daniels x private investigator!f!reader (18+ MDNI)

this is for @iamasaddie little lady kinky may challenge! congrats on 2.5k! <333 I was paired with Jack / Voyeurism.

banner by: @cafekitsune

tags: voyeurism (reader watches jack), masturbation (m & f), reader is a private investigator, gratuitous descriptions of my fav cowboy stroking his big cock, dub-con a little? reader masturbates in her car but there isn't anyone around so public but private

a/n: this is the first fic I've completed in months. it's short and to the point, idk how i feel about it but it pushed me out of my writing slump! kinda want to do a part 2 for this, what do y'all think 👀

wc: ~1.6k

smut below the cut

 “I want you to catch that son of a bitch in the act.”

The visibly scorned woman, Camilla, sitting across from you asks through tears, ones that she hasn’t allowed to escape down her cheeks; catching them right at the waterline with an overused tissue.

This isn’t the first time a disgruntled, mistreated, or betrayed lover has sought out your services — no shortage of shitty men leaving trails of destruction while they pillage and greedily chase their own interests. She’s no different, seeking closure from the broken-off engagement from her now ex-fiancée, Jack Daniels. The pair had been together for a year, engaged for three months and one day, out of the blue, Jack broke it off. According to her, he didn’t give a concrete reason, something vague about being consumed with his job and that “she deserved a better life than that”. 

Of course you get paid a pretty penny for your work, but you take great pleasure in catching a man in the act. Whether the woman needs proof for divorce settlements, custody battles, or to just have leverage. Whatever the case may be, you find a gratification you don’t get anywhere else; the upheaval of a man trying to have his cake and eat it too. 

The conventionally attractive woman you couldn’t pick out of a line-up slides her homemade dossier across the coffee shop table, tacky & sticky from previous patrons. You flip through the information presented to you, taking mental notes as you go. You can’t deny the heat that rises up your face as you study the picture of your next target. The deep sable eyes resembling a baby calf’s are staring at you through the glossy photo paper. He’s sporting a mustache reminiscent of Burt Reynolds that is calling your name. His smirk is laced with a charming cockiness. 

“He’s quite the looker, I know. Hell of a lay, too,” her words snap you out of your daydream. Her words feel hollow, his looks are the only attributes she’s mentioned during the duration of the consultation. You're not getting paid for moral judgements and you remind yourself you don’t know the whole story. 

“Which is why I want to know who he’s fucking. I know there’s another woman, or maybe even a guy… he’d answer calls in the middle of the night and step into another room and I swear I could hear a woman’s voice on the other end, he’d tell me he’s going on work trips… he works at a whiskey distillery, why the hell does he need to go on all these trips?” She explains, putting air quotes around ‘trips’ with her dainty, well-manicured hands, “he’d stay late at work a few nights a week, and then it turned into a nightly thing… Anyways, you come highly recommended, so I’m trusting you won’t let me down,” she adds. You’re not a fan of the passive aggressive, back-handed compliment she gives you, but ultimately you give her an understanding smile as you both rise from the table. 

“I’ll be in touch,” you tell her, as you exit. As cliche as that line is, you love saying it every time. 

Days of following Jack around have proven to be fruitless. The man has a simple routine: wakes up at six, traipses to the bathroom to begin his morning regimen of a showering, shaving and grooming his beloved mustache, and to conclude,  adorns his body in his tight denim jeans, a crisp button-down, a cowboy hat, and boots to match. You hate to admit it, and someone would have to waterboard this information out of you, but the hat is doing something for him. 

Or you. 

Whatever. 

He shops weekly on Wednesdays (he always puts the cart back inside the store, not the cart returns in the parking lot), takes the same route home everyday, watches Jeopardy while he eats dinner – you caught on quickly that he cooks during Wheel of Fortune, it appears he isn’t a big fan of Pat and Vanna, dishes promptly following Final Jeopardy and bed by nine. In three weeks Jack hasn’t had a single visitor, of any gender, leaves work at five like everyone else, the man isn’t adding up to be a cheating womanizer like Camilla had set him out to be. Not to say that he isn’t, but you’re not finding any evidence to support that claim. You’ve actually found yourself developing a crush on the man. He’s undoubtedly handsome, seemingly laid back despite his strict routine, and there’s something mysterious that lies beneath that you’re itching to unearth.

You’re parked discreetly across the street from his house. It’s a nice quiet street, with only two lamps to illuminate the surrounding neighborhoods, allowing you to stay shrouded in the night. 

You’re about to call it a night, exhaustion settling deep into your bones, when you notice a lamp turned on in the living room. Fortunately, the window faces the street, making your job that much easier for you. You pick up your binoculars to peer in, adjusting the focus for your prying eyes. Thank the universe he left his blinds open. 

He sits on the couch with his back facing you. It looks like he’s reaching for the remote, like maybe he’s having trouble sleeping, but when he settles back into the couch, you notice he’s butt ass naked, in all his glory. Even through the binoculars, you can see how big his cock is. Your mouth salivates at the sight, wanting to feel the stretch of him in all your holes. 

You’re not supposed to see this. Not at all. Usually in your assignments, you don’t get the full X-rated view, just the PG-13 suggestive one, and you are more than grateful for that. 

But not now.

You’re getting your own private peep show from the man you’re getting paid to spy on. You’re feeling like a grade-A pervert right about now but the sight is too glorious to look away. He spits on his hand, and languidly begins stroking his cock. He runs his other hand through his hair, his toned arms flexing with his movements, his chest heaving. 

It shouldn’t turn you on like it does. For one, it’s highly unprofessional. Secondly, he’s unaware he’s got an audience. Morally speaking, it’s definitely not your shining moment. But it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, watching him tease and work himself up. You couldn’t pry your eyes away if you wanted to. 

Jack’s not the only one getting worked up; your clit throbs so hard you feel like it’ll go numb. Your heartbeat echoes in your ears thump-thump thump-thump. You let out a whine when Jack massages his tip, precum dribbling out like a sweet nectar you’d like to feast on. He continues his slow movements, dragging out his pleasure at a delicious and excruciating pace. Somehow, this makes the whole scene that much hotter; the display of restraint and discipline. You wonder if he does that with his lovers. Teasing, teasing, teasing, giving just enough to drive you insane before slowing almost to a stop. 

Possessed by desire, you haphazardly look for any lingering people outside before unbuttoning your pants to shove your hand to where it's needed most. You gasp at the cool air hitting your thinly clothed pussy, you can smell your own arousal seeped into your panties and it spurs you on further. You mirror Jack’s pace - teasing your lips with a featherlight touch, inching closer and closer to your needy clit, stopping just shy of it, to tease yourself more. It’s agonizing in the best way, taking your time like this. Normally, you like efficiency when making yourself come, rarely going the extra mile to turn the pleasure dial up, but this makes you question why you’re ever in a hurry. 

You reach your clit, going in gentle circles to match Jack’s unhurried pace. You wish you could hear the sounds he’s making, all the grunts and whimpers escaping his plush lips. 

He speeds up his strokes, now ravenous for his delayed release and so are you. Overtaken by the need to come, you drop the binoculars, letting them fall to the floorboard. You’re not even watching him anymore, having seen more than enough to commit to your spank bank. With your eyes closed and head pushing into the headrest, your mind is flooded with images of Jack fucking you slow, hard and deep, absolutely destroying your pussy – legs over his shoulders, hitting the spot that makes you scream and cry in euphoria. The image of him spilling into you, filling you up with his come is what tips you over the edge, your body shivers in bliss and you rock against your hand to ride out the high, feeling faint from the intensity. 

After you’ve recovered and fumbled your chance of ever seeing The Pearly Gates, you dare to look back to his house, to find all the lights back off. It’s a bit of a relief, feeling less shameful of what you’ve done now that you can’t see him at the moment. 

You button your pants backup and lean over to retrieve the forgotten binoculars from the floorboard, as your fingers grab them you hear a knock on the window. The sudden rap on the glass makes you flinch, feeling your skeleton attempt to flee from your corporeal body. Your heart drops to your stomach when you see Jack standing outside your car, leaning one forearm against the body so his face is level with yours. Fuck fuck fuck. You’ve been caught. Dizziness and nausea war within you as you roll down the window. You open your mouth to explain the situation, but words never escape your mouth. 

“You like watchin’ people don’t ya?” he asks, his tone is dark, but not angry. No, it’s something else entirely. 

“I–”

“‘S’alright. Caught onto ya pretty quick. A pretty face like yours ain’t hard to miss.”

“I– i’m sorry, um,” you scramble to find words, any words but Jack interjects again. 

“You like watchin’, but darlin’ I want to know, do ya like bein’ watched?”

[bonezone44]

Tender This (21+)

Uncle!Jack Whiskey x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have a bad dream and ask to sleep with your Uncle Jack.

Word Count: 2064

tags: dub-con/non-con somno. thigh grinding. coming in pants. Reader is the aggressor ! nicknames for Reader: baby, angel, niece.

+++

By the time you opened your eyes, the nightmare was gone from your mind. The foreboding visuals that caused you to feel cornered and terrorized were erased. Unfortunately, though, your body and heart were slower to rid you of the experience. You didn’t think twice before hopping out of bed and heading down to your Uncle Jack’s room. You didn’t care that all you wore were your cotton pajamas.

You could hear the drone of the TV from the hallway, lights flashing from the crack of his door. Knowing he was still awake was a relief, but it wasn’t enough for you to go back to bed by yourself. You rapped your knuckle on his door. He cleared his throat before answering.

“Come in!” he called.

You tip-toed barefoot inside with your shoulders high in your ears. Jack sat up in bed when he saw you–worry evident on his brow. He wore a white t-shirt and thin wire-framed glasses. He grabbed the clicker and turned down the volume on the TV.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked.

“I had a bad dream,” you pouted. 

He sat motionless with his mouth open–his heart nearly beating outside of his chest.

You wrung your hands together. “Can I come sleep with you?”

A few more stunned, heavy breaths before he answered. “I–well, angel–I mean–” he released awkward chuckles between his stuttering. “I-I don’t think you’d have a lot of fun in here with me–” he pointed across at the TV. “--I’m just watching a-a-a documentary on uh… saddles of the old vaqueros from back in the day.” He cleared his throat again and smoothed the thick quilt in his lap.

You glanced to your right at the TV that sat atop his dresser. On screen was an older gentleman in a white sombrero who was smiling and showcasing leather embossing. It took more effort than you’d like to admit to not roll your eyes–because of course Uncle Jack would be watching something like that in the middle of the night. You remained undeterred.

“Please, Uncle Jack?” You attempted the most pathetic look you could muster. “That dream messed me up. I really don’t wanna sleep alone.”

It was almost visceral the way his heart broke for you–brows all curled into his forehead and his eyes growing big and misty. “O-okay, angel,” he croaked, looking you up and down. “If it’s that important to ya.”

“Mm-hmm,” you nodded and scurried forth. You drew back the quilt, distinctly avoiding the look of nervous dread in his eyes as you climbed into the bed with him. Before he could think to put a pillow between the two of you, you scooted as close as you could and wrapped your arm across his middle. 

He choked on his breath and placed his hand on your arm. “A-angel, I don’t know–” 

“Please, Uncle Jack? It was a really bad dream,” you pleaded with your chin on his chest. 

Another yank of his tender heartstrings. His glittery eyes bounced between yours as he tried to find the words–but none came out of his pouting lips. He looked away and wiped his mouth with his hand. “O-okay, baby, just uh… just for tonight, I guess. But–” he cleared his throat a third time. “--but let’s try to-to-to watch the program, okay?” He locked his eyes on the TV. He twitched and tensed his jaw and neck. His lips were close enough that you could smell whiskey on his breath. You wondered what he tasted like this late at night. 

You tugged him closer and pressed as much of your body into his as you could–from your cheek on his chest, to the front of your torso against his side, down to your leg lining up with his. His breathing stuttered, but you ignored it. Instead, you listened to his rapid beating heart. You melted into his strong, steady heat and the scent of his skin. You watched the TV for a while like he asked, and it was actually pretty interesting to see an expert artisan craft a saddle seat out of leather. But really, the most interesting part came when the artisan had to measure and cut the leather pieces for the horn because that’s when Uncle Jack placed his arm around you–his large hand finding respite on your shoulder. You instantly released a small whimper and squeezed his middle.

“It’s alright, angel,” he cooed–his thumb caressing your bare skin. “You’re safe, now. Just keep on watchin the TV.”

“Thank you, Uncle Jack,” you murmured–daring to press a quick kiss to his chest before resting your head again.

“O-of course,” he coughed and squirmed, but his hand stayed steady on your shoulder.

You grew weary as the night went on. Your eyes drifting shut. But you could never quite fall back asleep–not with your body this close to your Uncle Jack. Wetness pooled between your legs. Your body burned so badly for him you were aching. You didn't know what to do. You were afraid of scaring him off, but you were patient. You could be patient for a man like Uncle Jack.

Once the credits started rolling, Jack turned off the TV. You felt him shift beneath you, but you refused to budge. “A-angel?,” he whispered. He tapped you lightly on the shoulder. He was trying to wake you up… without waking you up. “I–... shit,” He murmured. He clicked off the lamp on his bedside table–a soothing darkness blanketing the room. He tried to situate himself a little further down the bed and you did let him move–but only a little. You were determined to stay on him. So much so that once he had settled into a comfortable position, you faked a sleepy moan and wrapped your leg on top of his. 

You could hear him suck air through his teeth–but he didn't push you off or away. In fact, his arm moved from your shoulder down to your waist, rubbing the exposed skin between the hem of your shirt and the waistband of your bottoms. It felt like he was igniting you with his fingers, like each one was a matchstick. You wanted more, but you had to be coy about it. 

“Angel?” He tried again and you refused to respond. 

You counted your long, slow breaths, counted the heartbeats you felt in your pussy. You needed to give him time. Let him think it was all happenstance. You waited for as long as you could possibly stand. Then, you shifted again, another sleepy groan and stretch until you were half on top of him–your crotch on his thigh, your leg between his. His hardness poked against you.

“ssshit,” he whispered to himself. The hand that was once on your waist found its way to your shoulder. You couldn't see in the dark, but you knew his mouth was open. You knew he was stumbling over what to do. But he didn't push you away like he should have–like he would have if he truly didn't want you there.

It made you crave him–burning up and down your skin. It made you hungry to know that he desired you–that he wanted you so much that it made him all twisted up inside. That you had the power to falter the boundaries of a man so formidable. The roll of your hips was instinctual–your body so desperate to relieve itself from the ache, but the taste made you voracious. 

You rolled again and a whimper forced itself from your lips. You tried to muffle it by nuzzling into his chest. 

Jack didn't move. He still didn't push you away. He was gonna let you do it, wasn't he? Let himself pretend you were doing this all in your sleep. 

You pressed your swollen clit against his thigh and pushed upward from your knees, curling your toes, and grinding against him. It felt glorious, but you had to take it slow. No matter how much you really wanted to yank his pants down and ride him like the cowboy he was. 

And every little brush of your leg against his hard cock made him twitch and hiss. Again and again you thrusted yourself–rolling your entire body against his while he held himself back. He was braced and taking it. 

—---------

Jack felt drunk. Inebriated. Boozed up. Three sheets to the wind. And it was all because of you.  Your desire for him made him dizzy. The way you tucked your chin and looked at him with the sweetest, most docile eyes. Your sugary pouting lips. It felt too good to have you so close and snuggling up to him. He loved knowing that he could protect you and that you wanted him to protect you. It comforted him that you sought him for comfort. That you trusted him enough to surrender yourself and all your worries upon his shoulders. How could he ever deny you? How could he ever say no to your tender affection?

He knew it was wrong. It didn’t matter that you weren’t blood. It was the principle! He knew his feelings for you were unrefined and not very Kingsman-like, but … you had this way of hypnotizing him–captivating every nerve and synapse in his whole got-dang body. All it took was one wayward look from you and Hoo! Buddy ! he wanted to ravish you in an open prairie, by a campfire, underneath the shining eye of the moon. He wanted to buck up into you from underneath, let you ride him like a stud bull til he filled your belly full of his seed. He wanted to lathe and lick your breasts with his tongue–suck hickeys into your thighs in the shape of the letter J. He wanted to stuff your mouth full of his cock so he could make love to your sweet, darling face.

But …

As it has been mentioned before…

These feelings were unrefined and not very Kingsman-like. 

Jack saw himself as a gentleman. And gentlemen uncles do not bed their nieces.

Yet there you were, grinding against him, moaning and murmuring in your sleep. He knew he should wake you up. He knew he should have made you go back to your own bed. He knew he should have done anything other than what he had done, but… he didn’t. 

He stayed as still as he could. His body twitching and stuttering every time you brushed his cock. He tried to angle his hips a bit to cause more friction and it worked for a little while–but then you started chasing your high. He could feel it deep down in his gut how much your hazy mind hungered for release. He didn’t know what you were dreaming about that would cause you to react in such a way. You were twisting your hips around and moaning, arms wrapped around his middle and your face resting flat on his chest. 

“Uncle Jack…” you cried and Jack’s fist flew to this mouth to bite back his groan. “Please…” you begged as you rode his thigh with deep languid strokes. 

Jack didn’t want to whip his dick out and make a big ol’ mess all over the blankets and sheets and you. But he was feeling pretty goddamn desperate for some relief. He did his best to avoid touching you–lest he wake you up, you poor thing. You were so close! And shit, he was, too! So he reached his hand down and gave his cock a gentle squeeze through the fabric of his sleep pants. Something to ease the ache until he could extricate himself from you and disappear into the bathroom for a few shameful moments. One squeeze wasn’t enough, though. Especially once you started whimpering and shaking and meeting the end of your delightful, filthy dream. He couldn’t wait any longer. Gentlemanly duties be damned! He gave himself a few quick tugs through his pajamas, squeezing the head of his cock in his big, thick hand. He huffed and puffed before grunting hard through gritted teeth, cursing as quietly as he could while come spurted from his cock and smeared into his sleep clothes. ‘Oh, angel.’ He thought, feeling the fabric of his pants cling to him. ‘You’re gonna be the death of your ol’ Uncle Jack.’

After cleaning himself up and changing, he came back to bed and put a pillow between the two of you. Instead of what he wanted to do, which was spoon you, press his cock between your thighs and grind against your slick. But he couldn't. What he had done was shameful enough as it was. He had to stop. He had to put an end to it all. Not that anything had really happened, ...had it?

He took a deep breath and started listing different types of saddles in his head before eventually falling asleep.

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@xdaddysprincessxx -- I thought this might be a fun one for ya. 😘😘😘