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bonezone44 · 6 months ago

Text

Tender This (21+)

Uncle!Jack Whiskey x Fem!Reader

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

Word Count: 2064

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

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By the time you opened your eyes, the nightmare was gone from your mind. The foreboding visuals that caused you to feel cornered and terrorized were erased. Unfortunately, though, your body and heart were slower to rid you of the experience. You 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.

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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. 😘😘😘

#uncle!jack #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x f!reader

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bonezone44 · 6 months ago

Note

A new uncle has entered the villa

You have so much fun swimming in your Uncle Jacks pool but it’d be more fun if he joined. And you know just the thing to persuade him. As sexy as you can, you get out of the pool and saunter over to where he’s sitting. Playing with the strings of your bikini bottoms and biting your lip before you come to a stop in front of him. Slowly you sink down to your knees and look up at him all pretty, clasping your hands together in front of you and beg, “pretty pretty please uncle Jack, swim with me! Please!” 🥹 of course you notice how his bulge seems to grow even larger . . .

"Now, sugar...." He twists in his seat. "I am plenty cool sittin right here in the shade and watching you enjoy yourself. So... don't you worry about me, li'l lady." He offers a placating smile and picks up his whiskey glass--swirling the ice cubes around so they clink. "I'm doin just fine." He clears his throat.

You laugh. "You're wearing Levi's, Uncle Jack!" You place your damp hands on his spread knees, pushing them further apart.

He pushes your hands away in a panic. "No need to get my clothes all wet," he says gruffly, adjusting himself. You watch him grit his teeth. "Just uh... go on and keep swimming."

He's avoiding your gaze and it just pisses you off. Here you are, on full display, and he won't even look at you. You pout and stand up with your hands on your hips. "It's no fun swimming all by myself! Why couldn't we just go to the beach like I wanted?"

"Well, now, sugar--" He clears his throat again. "--the beach isn't all it's cracked up to be with the big crowds and all that sand. And a young woman such as yourself--" he nods and waves his hand toward you. "--deserves the-the-the seclusion provided by a personal pool and--"

You cut him off with a groan. You give a little stomp, pretending to be mad, but just knowing how much your breasts and belly and thighs will jiggle for him. You pout again, giving him the most pathetic look you can muster. And you slowly climb into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your tits in his face. He swallows real thickly and keeps his eyes on yours, but you can feel his hands come to rest on your wet thighs.

"Please Uncle Jack," you beg. You wipe the sweat dripping down his right temple. "It's just me and you." You give a coy smile and inch your way forward--barely grazing his bulge. "I won't tell nobody if you won't."

"My niece thinks she can keep a secret, huh?" His eyes narrow a bit. His hips move beneath you.

You nod as a fire burns inside you.

He takes his hat off and sets it on the table next to his drink. "You promise not to tell anybody?" His eyes get wide and serious. His hands move to your waist, sliding along your wet skin. His clothes must be soaked beneath you. His t-shirt definitely is. His dark nipples are visible through the thin white fabric. "Can't have the whole world findin out about ... my pool."

"I promise." You grin with victory.

He holds you in place and grinds himself up into you with a grunt. "Alright then, sugar." He slaps your ass--sending a spray of water everywhere. He bites his lip. "Go on and get up so I can get these clothes off and join you."

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#uncle!jack whiskey

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