#Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels

[wardenparker]

New Year's Surprise

Jack Daniels x plus size female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 18.7k Warnings: Cursing, alcohol, internalized fatphobia, self esteem issues, pining, meddlesome friends, unwanted attention from a male coworker, light spanking, praise, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, Jack likes being scratched up, reader is described as having fingernails long enough to scratch (no specific length given), the love is requited they're just idiots. Summary: Ginger has a plan to get you and Jack to admit you have feelings for each other. She did not anticipate just how well it would work... Notes: Happy almost New Year everyone! Enjoy a little more winter seasonal smut and fluff from us to you 🥂🍾✨

"You're sure it's not too much, Ging?" Turning in front of the full-length mirror in Ginger's apartment, you inspect the glittering black cocktail dress that your friend helped you pick out at the mall during all those after-Christmas sales she promised you that you would find something at. She was right, like she always is, but now that the dress is on you, you're wondering if you haven't made a mistake. If it's not too revealing, or too short, or too tight.

Whoever in HR came up with this insane Cowboys and Flappers theme for the company New Year's Eve party deserved to have their head examined. You're not the femme fatale agent that gets sent out to seduce men and collect their secrets. Few men out there in the world are ever really seduced by the chubby girl in any given scenario, but it did tend to make you invisible. Invisible women can slip in and out of buildings in literally any kind of uniform and get through security without ever being harassed, and that works to your advantage on almost every case. Unfortunately, it also means that for the five years you've been a Statesman agent, you've also been fairly invisible to the man you've developed feelings for.

It’s perfect.” No matter how many times Ginger Ale tells you that you are sexy just the way you are, that insecurity gets the best of you. “I’m telling you, you will have every eye in the place.”

“I doubt it.” You sigh in the mirror and smooth your hands over the sequined dress one more time. “But that’s okay. I don’t want every set of eyes…”

“I know what set of eyes you want on you.” Your taste in men is your own, and Ginger won’t fault you for it, but she wonders why Jack. “It might do the man good to know that he’s got competition.” You don’t believe her when she says that it’s more telling that Jack doesn’t hit on you, but it’s the truth.

“He doesn’t, though.” Shrugging, you turn away from the mirror and decide to just go on with the night. Wishing won’t make it real and Jack Daniels barely looks at you. Even though you’ve partnered on cases, spend time together in and out of the office, and are arguably friends in every true sense? You’ve always wanted more with him. The only person who knows is Ginger, though, and you prefer to keep it that way since Jack will never return your affection. “And that’s…it is what it is. Even if you’re the only person I dance with tonight, it’ll still be fun.”

“Wearing that dress?” Ginger snorts as she pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I’ll have the faith for both of us, how about that?” She knows that Jack won’t be able to resist you tonight, not when she’s lined up a few of the junior agents to dance with you already. It’s time that Jack settles down and finds some happiness, and what better time than the New Year?

******

While you easily could have had the party at Statesman considering the size of the grounds, Champ wouldn’t hear of it. He’s hosting the damn thing himself come hell or high water, in his favourite suit with his wife dressed to the 9’s in her flapper dress, and more caterers than you’ve ever seen in your life all making his early twentieth century coal baron’s mansion look as resplendent as the day it was built. The place is palatial, with a ballroom so big that the band he’s hired looks tiny in one corner despite being six-men strong. It’s music and liquor and appetizers passing by on trays when you and Ginger walk through the door, and you gasp at how nice it all looks.

“I know he does it every year,” you sigh to your best friend. “But the theme is always different and I swear somehow the house always looks better on new year’s.”

“Champ does know how to throw one hell of a party.” She agrees, snagging two glasses of champagne from a waiter as she walks by. Her own sleek flapper dress is a vivid purple, making her beautiful skin glow and for tonight, she’s wearing contacts. Her short hair is perfectly styled, a cap like illusion, highlighted with the crystal headband she’s picked. “To a New Year we will never forget.” She hands you one glass and adds, “or regret.”

“You’re certainly optimistic.” You flash her and grin and tap the rim of your glass against hers. “Finally going to talk to Alicia or is this just positive vibes?” It’s been two years since Ginger started crushing on the woman who supervises Statesman campus tours and visitor experience, but she hasn’t made a move yet. Being frozen in place with someone you care about is something the two of you have in common.

“Positive vibes.” She huffs, rolling her eyes and trying to change the subject. “Look! There’s Tequila!” She waves the younger agent over to where you are standing. “You made it! Didn’t think you were ever gonna get back from Brazil, or if you wanted to.” She adds with a grin.

“Those are two very different questions.” Tequila agrees with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. Did he have to come back? Sure. But did he want to leave the comfort and luxury of that beautiful woman’s bed? Not at all. “But I would not have missed dancing with you ladies for the world,” he adds with a wink. He’s very much in on Ginger’s plan, after all, and is looking forward to the fireworks it will bring.

You fluster slightly at his words, but Ginger knows that you don’t have your cap set on Tequila. You just don’t handle compliments well. “You’ll have to get in line.” Ginger warns him with a smirk. “As good as Rye looks tonight, every man in here is going to want a dance. After I dance with her first.”

“Well I reckon I’ll have to be second, then.” Tequila puts in a playful pout. “But only because I would never deny Miss Ginger Ale gettin to be first.” He smiles again and tips his hat, having opted to wear his best Stetson with an elegant Kingsman suit. “You don’t have to,” you insist, knowing Tequila always has more choices of dance and bedroom partners than he could ever feasibly make his way through. “I’m sure you have other people you want to dance with tonight.”

“No one important.” Tequila smirks as he drags his eyes up and down your outfit and whistles slowly. “And no one nearly as pretty.” He promises.

“Liar.” Though you roll your eyes at him, you don’t protest anymore than that. He’s your friend, after all. And if he wants to waste his time dancing with you, you’ll just enjoy it. Tequila’s a fantastic dancer, after all.

“Never lie to you, honey.” Tequila croons, taking your hand and lifting it to his lips. “Lie about what?” The voice comes from your left and all eyes swing that way.

“Jack!” Normally you know he’s coming. The smell of earthy, expensive cologne and the tap-click-shuffle of his boots on polished floors. The soft humming he gets up to when he’s pleased with himself, not quite melodic but endearing because it means he’s happy. But you sensed none of that just now, too caught up in the band playing and the fragrant flowers and the tickle of bubbly in your nose and throat. “Nothing. We were just talking about dancing…” He looks like a dream, and it makes you sick to your stomach and elated all at once. Another night of watching him fawn over every woman but you is what you’ve resigned yourself to putting up with, but it’s just rude of him to look so damn handsome in that black velvet double breasted suit and sleek black Stetson while he does it.

“Dancing, hum?” His eyes narrow slightly at the grip Tequila has on your hand and he wants to reach out and slap it away, but he just shoots everyone an easy grin. “Ready to cut a rug tonight, eh?”

"I guess so." The shyness that threatens to shoot straight through you is knocked off kilter by Ginger, who hoots in response. "She's got her dance card all filled up already, Whiskey. Should've gotten here earlier," she tells him with a smirk.

His mustache ticks, it’s the only change to his facial expression. “I’m sure Rye can squeeze me in.” His dark amber eyes slide over to you and swipe up and down your body. “Can’t you, sugar?”

"Of course." You'd throw over the whole goddamn list for him. Besides, you have no idea what Ginger could possibly mean by saying your 'card' is full. One dance with her and one with Tequila isn't a full anything. "Of course I can."

“Good. Then how about I refresh you ladies’ drinks?” Jack asks, slapping Tequila on the back a little rougher than necessary. “Come help me with that.”

"Sure." Tequila grunts, throwing you a confused expression like he can't figure out why the hell Jack needs help getting champagne when waiters with trays are everywhere, but he shoots Ginger a secret smirk before following Jack into the next room where the open bar is set up.

“Tonight will be perfect.” Ginger predicts with a smug grin as she watches the two men walk towards the open bar. .

“What the hell are you doin’, flirtin’ with Rye?” Jack’s easy grin falls away and his brows knit together as soon as his back is turned to you. “You know that girl ain’t your type.”

"I can't be nice to my friend?" Tequila asks, pretending to be positively aghast that Jack would suggest he's up to anything else. One hand ever goes to his chest with a dramatic gasp.

Jack’s eyes cut towards the other agent, a frown on his face. “It’s one goddamn thing to be nice, it’s another to flirt.”

"When did I flirt?" The younger agent counters, knowing full well that's what he was doing but not about to admit it because he wants to make Jack stew.

“You were flirtin’ the second you can outta your momma, but you gotta learn there’s certain girls you don’t do that shit with.” Jack growls, stopping in front of the bar and holding up two fingers. “Double 62 Triple Barreled.” He orders, wanting one of the rare whiskeys that Champ had broken out tonight. “And two champagnes.”

"Now, why is that, Jack?" Tequila hums, looking down at his friend. Jack isn't too much shorter than him, but just enough to annoy the older agent on occasion. "Why is Rye one of those girls?"

“Because…” that’s where his argument ends, because there’s not really a reason beyond his own feelings. “It’s…unprofessional.” He decides. “She’s an agent for Christ’s sake.”

Tequila snorts at this string of logic, accepting his drink from the pretty bartender with a wink and sliding a large bill into the tip glass on the bar top before looking back at Jack. "That's a load of horse shit and you know it, Daniels. You fucking know it."

He does know it, but he snatches his own drink up and rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He hates that his stomach twists and he wonders if you had been flirting back. Looking over his shoulder at where you are standing, he clenches his jaw at the tassels that are swaying every time you move. “Don’t get her damn hopes up.” He takes a sip of his whiskey. “We both know you ain’t gonna fuck her.”

"Nor does she want me to." This is gonna be a hell of a lot easier than he and Ginger thought, if Jack is always so fuckin wound up over you and he only just arrived for the night. "I ain't the one she has her eye on and everybody with eyes knows it."

Jack ignores that, huffing to himself as he tries to hid the fucking jealousy that curls in his gut at whoever you do have your eye on. Lucky son of a bitch. “No fuckin’ talkin’ to you, hardheaded S.O.B.” The champagne glasses are in front of him and he downs the rest of the drink to slap the crystal glass down and snatch up the flutes. Turning around without another word and stalking across the room towards you and Ginger.

It's only one room he has to cross, but by the time he gets there, Agent Brandy has sidled up beside you and Ginger and has his fingers ever so subtly on your elbow while bends his head and puts all his focus directly on you.

Halfway across the room, Jack jerks to a halt and growls, shaking his head as he resumes the walk and forces a moderately friendly smile on his face. “Didn’t think you’d be back from Korea, Don.” He interrupts as he arrives back at your group.

"Two days ago." Brandy flashes a smile in Jack's general direction but keeps his focus on you. "Glad I made it back in time, too. Champ throws a hell of a party."

His eye twitches but Jack nods. “Yeah he does. Shoulda brought that little gal you were seein’. Brandy. Brenda right? Or was it Bambi?” He shrugs. “Maybe all of them at once, knowin’ you.”

"Now don't be unkind, Jack." Brandy's eyes cut over to the older agent and Brandy offers what could be considered a modestly dramatic pout. "Or Rye might think the worst of me and throw me over for that dance I just got promised."

Jack seethes beneath the smile on his face. “Would hate for that to happen.” He lies, handing Ginger one of the glasses and then offers the other to you.

The glass is offered with a smile and you thank Jack, savoring even the tiniest moment of contact between brushing fingers as he hands it over. It's probably bordering on pathetic, how long you've carried this torch for Jack, and it seems like Ginger is really trying to encourage you tonight to come out of your shell tonight but you just don't know. As nice as everyone is being, it doesn't feel right. The only thing that feels right is when you're around Jack. It's just a damn shame that he doesn't feel the same.

It’s almost painful how the simple, innocent touch affects him. Now visceral his reaction is. Only the training that Statesman has given him keeps him from showing anything. “Well,” he hates to tear himself away, but he can’t be around you for too long. “I better go talk to Champ about some cases he wants worked tomorrow.” He offers.

"It's a party," you remind him, smile flickering as he steps back. Obviously the small touch that you'll be savoring for the rest of the night has had the opposite effect on him. But there's no need to show that. Not when it's fully expected that he doesn't want to be around you when there are plenty of other people to talk to and women to dance with. "Don't work too hard, okay?"

“Never do,” he nods at everyone and turns around and skedaddles over to Champ like his pants are on fire.

"Come on," Ginger loops her arm through yours and lends Brandy a smirk that you don't notice — you're too busy trying not to look after Jack. "Let's go dance, honey. The night is young and we are looking far too good not to show off."

Champ eyes Jack as he stops by his side. “Figured you’d have a gal in your arms by now.” He huffs as he reaches out to shake Jack’s hand. “Losing your touch?” Jack snorts. “When have I ever lost my touch?” He asks, pointedly refusing to look back over towards you. “Just surveying my prospects.”

"And how is Agent Rye this evening?" Champ doesn't even have to look to know that that's where Jack has just come from. He blew into the room so quickly that it's the only explanation for the fire in his heels.

“Don’t you start with me.” Jack groans, shaking Champ’s hand and huffing. “Far as I know, she’s dandy.”

"Why should I not start?" Champ knows damn well why not, but he enjoys riling up his friend. "Somebody beat me to the punch?"

“Every-goddamn-body here tonight is actin’ like they’ve never seen the woman in a dress.” He snorts, complaining about it even though he has already memorized the way the damned sequined dress clings to your curves and enhances them in ways that should be criminal. “It’s damned ridiculous and borderline workplace harassment.”

Smirking, Champ pours two glasses of his preferred Statesman 1972 Select, savoring the smoked cherry notes from that particular year. He hands one cut crystal glass over to Jack with his tongue set firmly in his cheek. "You know you'd be a hell of a lot less mad if you just asked the lady to dance your damn self."

The glare Jack cuts Champ is withering and he turns his head as he takes a sip, refusing to rebuff the remark. It seems like everyone is taking the piss with him tonight as Eggsy would say. (edited)

"She's allowed to have fun, ya know." Champ goes on, humming the thought as though the glare Jack just shot him wouldn't have struck a lesser man dead in his tracks. "Damn shame she hasn't set her cap on anyone. Big family dreams, that gal has. Always has. It'll be a damn shame when she finally decides to hang up her pistols and have a family, but I won't let her get farther than the training ring. Too good of an agent to just let her retire."

“Is there a point to your ramblings?” Jack grumbles. “Or are you just spouting shit tonight?”

"Do what I want in my own house." The older man chuckles heartily and claps Jack on one shoulder. "Got a couple of jobs to start the new year with. Come see me tomorrow and we'll figure out which one's yours."

He’s being dismissed and since Champ is also giving him hell, Jack quickly nods and walks off. Trying to walk around the ostentatious ballroom without looking at you. “Hello handsome.” A perfectly manicured hand drapes itself over his shoulder and the scent of gardenias and sandalwood fills his nostrils. “Tiffany.”

Like a bloodhound on a trail, you spot it from across the ballroom without even trying to. Twirling around with Ginger, your eyes catch sight of the gorgeous, skinny, leggy blonde who has let herself drape over Jack's side and you sigh. Deflate is probably the right word, but you remind yourself it was never going to happen anyway and just hold on to Ginger as the song comes to an end.

“What’s a tall, dark, handsome drink of water like you doin’ all by your lonesome?” She purrs, making him hide the wince he had at the put on accent of hers. She’s as southern as tofu and yet she tries to make it sound like she’s grown up around here. Still, she’s a distraction and the best part about it is that there’s no emotional strings. “Looks like I should be buyin’ you a drink, darlin’.”

"I wish you would," she puts on a too-high giggle and bats eyelashes heavy with mascara and augmented with false hairs. Laying it on thick, she pushes in even closer and lets her body fit against his with nothing left to the imagination.

Jack doesn’t feel anything but he paints a cocky smirk on his face as he turns to her. “Then let me go get something for you, what do you want, darlin’?”

“Champagne, of course,” she simpers, never once considering the fact that she’s at a party for a whiskey distillery. Hell, she hadn’t even dressed for the theme.

Tiffany hangs out at the bar Statesman regularly hangs out at. A groupie because she knows everyone there makes good money. He’d bet his bottom dollar she conned Scotch into bringing her.

“Some party.” Is her attempt at conversation, putting more effort into showing off her cleavage than completing sentences. “You distillery boys sure know how to treat your gals.”

“Of course we do.” Jack’s smile is wicked, but it’s a part of the persona he adopts when he is working a target, it’s not real. “Any gal of mine deserves to be treated right.”

“Is that an invitation?” She knows who Jack is. Knows the civilian job title he’s been at Statesman Distillery. Even if she knew what it was all a front for, she likely wouldn’t care. She might just try harder if she knew the real wealth being flung around between a lot of these people.

“Now sweetheart, I’m good for a night or two.” Jack drawls. “But I’ve got a lot of leavin’ left to do.” He hums, quoting the country song.

The pout on Tiffany’s face is both dramatic and pronounced, but seeing that he’s immovable in that point — and knowing his reputation — she makes a small sound of frustrated disgust before flouncing away. Apparently annoyed at having wasted her time on a line cowboy.

The huff that Jack lets out is one of pure relief. Happy that he won’t have to deal with her again for at least half the night. She might make her way back around depending on successful she is. It’s shameful to say, but most of the agents here have dallied with her, including Jack. However, he had only taken her home to satisfy a physical need. He slowly makes his way back to the bar to order another drink, not champagne.

His line of sight is unfortunate as he saunters back toward the open bar. Looking back out to the dance floor, he can see Tequila twirling you around and the two of you laughing as the younger man holds you close and mock-sings along with the band.

Jack’s frown is deep, furrowing his brow as he cuts his eyes away in a jealous huff.

It goes round and round like that for most of the night. One dance partner after the next sweeps you across the dance floor but never the partner you want. One beautiful woman after another sidles up to Jack and bats their eyelashes but none are the woman he actually wants at his side. It’s a three-ring-circus. A whirlwind. But you never seem to get close enough to each other to see that neither of you is actually having any fun.

It’s easy to have an arm around a woman, easy to smile and flirt. His eyes continuously find you on the dance floor. Ginger had been right apparently, you had a damn dance card that was slap full. He hisses under his breath, wondering how many of those men knew you bit your thumb when you were working out a problem or that your eyes changed to a lighter shade when you were feeling slightly bashful.

There isn’t a single night of your life where you’ve gotten this much attention from this many different men — or this many different people period — and while it’s fun in a whirlwind sort of way, you do find yourself clock-watching. Wondering why your fellow agents all seem to be paying you so many compliments tonight and why you sort of feel like Cinderella at the ball without a hint of the real Prince Charming, the closer it gets to midnight the more you’re thinking of just going home. The last thing you want is to glance across the ballroom at midnight and see Jack tangled up in a midnight kiss with some petite redhead or statuesque model with perfect curls. You’ll be happier skipping out early and being in your pjs with a book at midnight than you will be witnessing that.

It’s fucking infuriating to have so many people come between him and you. Every dang time he untangles himself to break in on your dance with some partner, Ginger, Tequila or Champ waylay him. He’s never had such a hard time getting to chat with you and it’s making him slowly unravel his temper. “Ah Jack, there you are.” He sighs and paints on a smile when Champ claps his back and shoves a drink in his hand. “Forgot to mention somethin’….” His eyes slide away from you laughing as you are spun around, bitter to be stonewalled again.

“Well if it ain’t the gol’dern Belle of the Ball.” The voice you hear behind you is the one person you were hoping to avoid tonight, and as you’ve just finished dancing with one of the guys from the technology department who you didn’t even think knew your name, there’s no escaping. Agent Vodka is one of those older men who doesn’t realize that James Bond is just a character and that no one drags that persona into their everyday life. He routinely ‘flirts’ with you like he’s bestowing you a huge goddamn favor for even looking in your direction, and you were genuinely hoping to avoid him tonight.

Vodka is handsome in a classical sense, some would say a silver fox, if he had a better attitude. As it stands, there’s a confused tilt to his Stetson adorned head and he rakes his eyes up and down your body in a very calculated gaze. “You musta cleaned up for hours. Getting ready for a good night.”

“Sure. I guess so.” You nod, tone polite but dismissive. Vodka has a tendency to interpret friendly as begging for hands to be put on you, and the last thing you want to do is encourage him. “Happy new year, Vodka.”

“Seems like Whiskey and I have been the only ones not with you tonight.” He intones, smirking slightly. “Guess you was savin’ the best for last, huh? Since Jack’s hangin’ all over the ladies, I’ll step in and claim this dance.” He doesn’t ask for permission, just stepping up to you and grabbing your waist.

“That’s really okay.” Reeling backward, Vodka is strong but your self-defense training is a hell of a lot better, and you twist in his grip to make sure he can’t get a solid hold on you no matter how hard he tries. “Appreciate the offer,” you huff, trying to push him away. “But I was just heading home.”

“Oh don’t be that way.” Vodka huffs and manages to pull you close. “Believe me, dancin’ ‘s just a prelude to what we can do later.”

“Which is exactly why I don’t want to dance with you.” You push back against him again, leveraging your elbow against his side to loosen his grip with a sharp shot to his liver. This has gone too far and is hovering on ruining the night — which has been fairly fun despite its lack of your favorite cowboy and coworker.

“Jack-“ Ginger doesn’t bother apologizing as she taps his shoulder and points out to the dance floor. “Why don’t you go save Rye?” She huffs.

At this point it’s obvious that it’s a struggle. People are giving you extra space on the dance floor as they realize what’s happening but for whatever godforsaken reason, no one has stepped in yet. Probably because they’re too shocked that Vodka has finally crossed the line into being physically inappropriate instead of just saying uncomfortable things.

“Sugar, I’m sorry I’m late for our dance.” Jack slaps his hand down on Vodka’s shoulder and digs his fingers into the fleshy muscle. Getting satisfaction from the immediate change in the man’s stance. “Don’t mind if I interrupt, do ya?” His tone is friendly, but there’s a warning woven in the words. Dark eyes turn towards you as you quickly step back from the other man’s grasp.

“Wouldn’t have thought you’d keep a dame waitin’.” Vodka mumbles, all sheepishness and apology now that he realizes he’s infringed on another man’s territory.

Jack doesn’t rip into the man like he wants to, everyone else is starting to relax and resume the party. “You probably need to lay off the liquor.” He tells the other agent, not really caring for the man either.

“You forget who we work for, Daniels?” Vodka huffs, giving Jack the stink eye. “Not like you go easy, either.”

“Last time I checked, I took no for an answer, Robbins.” Jack turns his back after letting Vodka go and sweeps you into his arms, effectively dismissing him.

The room damn near erupts into applause, chattering all around you erupting out of uncomfortable silence, but you don’t hear it. You don’t even see Tonic and Champ escorting Vodka out of the ballroom with the utmost immediacy so the dressing-down can be vocal and private. All you see is Jack, and all you hear is Jack. Even as quiet as he is, the huff he gives as he scoops you up and twirls you away speaks volumes. “Jack, you—you didn’t have to—” Of course, if he hadn’t, you’re not sure you could’ve gotten away so cleanly. “Thank you.”

“Don’t think a thing of it, sugar.” Although he has a few harsh words rolling around for everyone who didn’t step in. It’s like they were waiting for something. Alcohol’s done made their brains addled. “Although my own apologies for manhandling you to get you outta that sticky situation.” Even though he’s apologizing, he starts to lead you in a dance.

“I really don’t mind.” And that is the understatement of the goddamn year, as you instinctively melt against Jack the second he starts to move.

“Still…..” There’s finally a bit of happiness to the evening and he smirks down at you. “Now you can say your dance card has been filled.”

“Could’ve left Vodka off it completely,” you grumble lightly, but you still end up smiling. When Jack looks at you in almost any way you just light up from the inside. It’s instinctual.

“Don’t know what got into him.” Jack huffs, even though he’s saved you from encounters like that before.

“His namesake, most likely.” He had smelled like it, at least. A fact which added no charm whatsoever to your encounter. “Really, Jack. Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Jack nods. “Sugar, you know that I know you are a capable agent. You coulda mopped the floor with him, but I’ll always give you whatever help you need.”

“I prefer not to bring hand-to-hand combat to Champ’s front door if I can help it.” If you let yourself really chew on the fancy, you could imagine Jack as rescuing you like a knight in armor. Like you were his to protect. “Not sure how much he’d appreciate that, regardless of how capable I am.”

“I think you’d find Champ more forgivin’ than you think.” He snorts, reminding himself of his own major fuck up just a few years prior. Champ had forgiven him and allowed him to regain the trust and confidence that he had destroyed through his own bling grief and rage.

“Maybe.” Jack certainly knows your boss better than you do even after several years with the agency, so you’ll differ from him. “But I’m glad to not have to find out. And…” The rest of the thought gets swallowed, and you cut your eyes away from him in embarrassment. There are some things better left unsaid and normally you’re so good at keeping your mouth shut.

“And?” Jack frowns slightly, not liking that you are holding back with him. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

“It’s nothing,” you promise him, shaking your head and acting like it isn’t the biggest, most honest confession in the world from you that sets your cheeks on fire and makes you even more bashful around him. “I’m just…glad I got to dance with you. That’s all.”

“You didn’t think you were going to dance out the old year without ole Jack now, did ya?” He sounds pouty that you would even think that.

"Honestly?" Shrugging slightly even with one of his hands splayed across your back and the other holding yours tenderly against his chest, you wonder how ever you ever manage to keep a damn thing to yourself with him around when your mind just sort of seems to melt in his presence. "I was going to split and ring in the new year in my bed with the book I've been reading."

Jack frowns and shakes his head, not agreeing with your plans in the slightest. “Now that seems like a waste.” He draws. “Mighty fine night to spend readin’ a book. You should be doin’ other things.”

"Not a lot of other options to pick from," you mumble, trying to force your mind away from immediately conjuring the mental images and repeated daydreams of doing just about everything under the sun with — and to — him.

Jack wants to protest that, but the song starts to close out and you almost stop in your tracks. Obviously believing that he will end the dance now that Vodka is gone and the set is done. Instead of dropping your hands, he pulls you tighter against him. “Is that why you wore a dress like that, sugar? ‘Cause you didn’t have any options?”

"Ginger picked it out." Wrongly assuming it to be an indictment of the choice, you frown reflexively and wonder why he's still holding on to you. The trouble is over and the song is done. Shouldn't he be finding someone better to spend his time with? "I know it's...it's not right. Flapper dresses are designed for women who look the opposite of me. But she insisted on sticking to the theme."

“Opposite of you?” He makes a face of utter confusion. “What are you talkin’ ‘bout? Dress looks good, fits you.” Maybe you have a shit ton of pins in the dress? His sweet wife would always have to pin her dresses to get them to fit right. Nearly every night they went out, he was helping her pin it just so.

Skinny is what you meant, but instead of saying so you just chew your lip and shake your head. Voicing that out loud would really just cement the ruination of the night and you don't want to do that. "Never mind," you insist instead. "I'm glad you like it." Even if he's just saying it to be nice, which you're sure he is, it's still nice to hear.

There’s something bugging him about the way you continuously quit talking and get around what you mean. The next song starts to play and Jack moves to that slightly faster tempo. “No one’s breakin’ in yet, sugar. So I’m keepin’ you unless you need a break?”

"No." Not from him. You would never, ever ask for a break from him. "No, I'm good." In fact, you've been so distracted by the rescue that you haven't noticed midnight creeping ever-closer. "I don't want a break."

Jack smiles, not the cocky smirk he adopts or the charming playboy facade that he uses on women like Tiffany. This is a genuine smile, one that makes his dimple show with a flash of white teeth and the crow’s feet around his eyes appear. “Then let’s dance, sugar.”

Champ chuckles when he sidles up beside Ginger with a fresh glass of champagne for each of them and his wife on his other arm, all ready to lead the midnight countdown after this song is over. "Took all damn night," he laughs to his co-conspirator. "And ya had to pull out the big gun with Vodka. But look at 'em."

“Man huffed and puffed at being used.” Ginger rolls her eyes and curls her lip. “But I promised him the Antarctic assignment. It will seem like punishment to everyone else and apparently he’s romancing one of the scientists down there.” Personally, she doesn’t see why anyone would be romanced by Vodka, but to each their own.

"It's for a damn good cause." Champ stifles a guffaw and even his wife looks amused at the way everything went down. "Everybody deserves to be happy, don't they? Even Vodka." It earns another snort from the older man and he aims a smirk at Ginger. "So what's the plan from here, Ging?"

“If Jack will get off his ass, there should be a kiss at midnight.” Ginger grins. “And maybe, just maybe, the dumbass will realize that it’s okay to want her. She wants him too.”

"Of course she does." Everybody knows that. Everybody with eyes and sense in their head, anyway. "He's just been stuck in the whole of his own grief for far too damn long. It's about time he broke free. Which is exactly why I went along with this plan of yours."

“I’m glad you did. Jack’s felt so guilty about actually developing feelings for Rye that he’s convinced himself that it’s wrong to flirt with her.” She takes a sip of her champagne. “When he breaks, it’ll be entertaining.”

"Entertaining for all of us." Grinning, Champ holds his glass out to his partner in crime in salute. "I sure as hell hope it happens right here for all of us to see."

Unaware that he’s being plotted against, Jack continues to hold you in his arms, taking you around the dance floor and trying to keep from asking too many questions that would potentially ruin his easy relationship with you. “Have you had fun? Other than Vodka? Your feet have to be killin’ you, all the dances you’ve been movin’ to.”

“It’s alright, I’ll have a hot bath and soak them. Aside from the one little interruption, everything’s been so nice.” This is the best part, without a doubt. Attention from other people is a novelty, the compliments and laughter a kind change of pace. But any time spent with Jack will always out do any other experience.

“A nice hot soak and a drink is always good to unwind.” Jack hums. “If other activities aren’t available.” The comment is warm, almost suggestive as he twists you around and then pulls you close again, feeling your softness against him and enjoying it.

It’s the worst kind of gut punch, hearing a comment like that from Jack, and your eyes are downcast when you curl back into his arms. It’s too unkind to be deliberate, but at the same time it’s such a careless comment that you just want to scream. He would never be intentionally cruel to you but the flirtatious tone of the comment is too much. “Maybe I should’ve gone with Vodka, then.”

Jack stiffens, frowning immediately and his blood pressure rises in anger. “What the fuck?” He hisses, the moment making him grip you tighter, almost the point of hurting you. “Why- you?” He’s at a loss for words right now.

“Well it’s the only offer I’ve gotten in…a year? Maybe more?” You shrug dismissively but his grip on you doesn’t allow for it, making your tone turn even more bitter in the process. He doesn’t get to get mad about who offers when he has no interest in himself. “Definitely more than a year, now that I think about it.”

“That wasn’t a goddamn offer.” He snorts. “It was a cowboy playin’ grab ass when his partner wasn’t willing.” He reminds you, dark eyes flashing angrily. “Otherwise known as assault.”

“And yet it’s still the only time any man has looked at me twice in more than a calendar year,” you hit back, practically hissing under your breath as embarrassed tears sting at your eyes. “Nobody’s exactly lining up to spend time with the fat girl except tonight which is Ginger’s doing. I know it is.” (edited)

The two of you are hissing back and forth, so preoccupied with your emotions that neither one of you are aware of the fact that the countdown for midnight has begun. The crowd around you starts to chant down from ten but Jack's too busy growling at you in anger. "Why are you so fuckin' quick to insult every goddamn person who decided to dance with you?"

“Because I know I’m right.” The two of you have never once torn into each other like this and while it breaks you’re heart, you’re so angry that lashing out is happening by instinct. It hurts so much more to be doubted by him and you can’t even express why. It’s devastating. “Do you even know what assignments they give me, Jack?” You hiss back, not hearing the shouts around you. “The ones where they need someone to be invisible! If they need someone plain and ignorable, they come straight to me. Do you know how much that fucking hurts? Because I’m good at it and that’s even worse than them just assuming. I’m excellent at not being noticed. At not being desired. It’s my fucking superpower. So no, I don’t think for a second that any of these dances were genuine moments of interest or offers for literally anything else. Because why would they be?”

His heart breaks and he's simultaneously enraged that you view yourself that way. "Five! Four! Thr—" He reaches up and grabs the back of your neck to yank you forward so your nose is less than an inch from his own. "You want a goddamn offer?" He snarls, losing all sense of reason when it comes to you and ready to prove how wrong you are. "Here's your fuckin' offer." Without another word, he drags you forward to plaster his lips against yours in an angry kiss.

It should feel terrible. It should make you so angry you slap him. It should make you feel a hell of a lot of nasty things, but instead what you feel is the undeniable melting of your own self against him, finally getting the only thing you’ve wanted since the day this infuriating cowboy sauntered into your life. Jack is firm under your hands, burning hot and intoxicatingly inviting in the way he does not pull away. You must have gotten so mad you blacked out, because this is impossible.

When you don’t push him away, when you don’t slap him, Jack growls. Using the soft sigh that you give to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth with another groan as the cheers and sing of Auld Lang Syne happens all around the two of you.

Either you’ve burst a blood vessel from being so angry and ashamed or this is the best dream you’ve ever had. Jack wraps both of his arms tight around you and you cling to him, fists dig into the arm of his suit jacket and the hair on the nape of his neck as you silently beg this hallucination never to end. You can live and die in this moment and tell yourself that it was more than a dream. You can imagine this is exactly how fiercely Jack kisses when he really wants to. When he wants someone.

The kiss has turned from an angry mashing of his lips against yours to a passionate mingling of your breath and tongues. You whimper and his entire body tighten with need. Overriding the portion of his brain that is screaming that this is a bad idea, that he is bad for you and continuing to kiss you as everyone else has moved into dancing now.

Neither one of you has realized that his hat has been knocked off, or that he’s drawn you so close your back has bowed, or even that you’ve entirely given up on needing to breathe in order to never have to stop kissing him. Years of repressed desire and soul-crushingly unrequited love are just being poured into every second you spend drowning in this impossible fantasy.

“Well damn.” Champ chuckles from his position on the dance floor with his lovely wife. “Didn’t expect that long of a show. Boy don’t stop soon, he’s gonna devour her right there in the middle of the floor.”

“That’s what happens when you repress your feelings for six goddamn years,” Ginger snorts in amusement. “Should I go interrupt them?”

“No.” Champ decides with a shake of his silvery head. “Leave ‘em. Don’t want the boy to get spooked before he makes up his mind what’s gonna happen next.”

“And he will.” Ginger agrees with that completely. Jack spooks faster than a newborn foal.

“He would, where she’s concerned. Boy has his heart in it and he’s been fightin’ it.” Champ agrees as his wife chuckles. “He will figure it out.” She promises. “Rye won’t let him walk away from this with a smile and a handshake.”

“I think she’d rather die than let him go, at this rate.” The smile on Ginger’s face is soft. Glad that her friend is finally getting everything she — you — have ever wanted. It really is only oxygen that makes the two of you pull apart, panting for breath with fingers curled into each other’s flesh and clothes like you’re hanging on for dear life.

Jack’s eyes are dark and searching as he looks at you. Looking for the answer to a question and when he finds what he’s looking for, he grabs your hand and starts to drag you off the dance floor.

“Jack?” The realization that that really just happened ignites a small panic in your chest and a riot in your mind, and the fact that Jack hasn’t let go of you or run off in disgust is only confusing you more.

He doesn’t speak, he can’t speak right now. The people on the floor just seem to part, moving out of his way as he guides you off the floor. He does squeeze your hand though.

“Jack?” The longer he goes without saying anything the higher the panic rises, but you cling to his hand all the way to the front door of Champ’s house where the front room has been transformed into a coat closet.

Jack doesn’t answer and spins you around to press you up against the wall, kissing you again. “Get your fuckin’ coat.” He demands roughly.

It’s a much briefer kiss but it leaves you breathless all the same, and the determination in his eyes makes you shiver and rush to obey. If this is what you’re going to get with him — just a few demanding kisses before he decides it was a mistake and turns you away? Then you’ll take it.

His hat is missing, Jack realizes when he goes to readjust it and frowns. Patting his head and looking around to see if it fell off around here, but it’s nowhere in sight. It’s a small price to pay, but he runs his hand through his hair as you rush back to his side. “We’re leaving.”

He doesn’t seem angry, but for the life of you there is no version of tonight that goes any further. Not in your mind. A conversation about how you shouldn’t have kissed him — or at least kissed him back, since you have a dim memory of his hand pulling you to him right before your mind went blank — or at least about how it was a mistake is bound to follow.

The second your hand is in his again, Jack is dragging you through the doors and down the stairs of the house to his Bronco. He’s parked close, thank god and he can barely get the door open before he’s grabbing your waist and practically throwing you up into the seat.

It shouldn't be a thrill to be lifted up and tossed around as though you weigh next to nothing, but there is something in Jack's singular determination and focus that tells you not to question or fight it. If he wants to manhandle you a little before whatever uncomfortable confrontation is bound to happen? Well, it's not as though you haven't literally fantasized about that scenario. At least now you have a frame of reference.

He’s holding onto his control, barely. Racing around the front of the vehicle and jumping in beside you. He can’t even talk to you as he starts the engine. Thankful that his place isn’t too far away as he throws the Bronco into gear and slings gravel as he spins out.

The most surprising part might be that he reaches for your hand as he drives. His fingers curl through yours and hold onto you on top of the gear shift, not letting you do your usual thing of shifting away or curling in on yourself in uncertainty.

There’s only two miles left to go. He grunts as he slows down to make the turn and your hand moves the shifter with him, making sure that he doesn’t squeeze it too hard as he goes through the gears.

He's driving to his own house. You've done this route yourself more times than you can count for a thousand different reasons. The apartment that you rent with your ample Statesman salary is well on the other side of Louisville and Ginger lives closer to you than to Jack, so it's not like you have any doubt where he's headed. When he pulls the Bronco down his long and winding driveway toward the large farmhouse he's called home for a decade already, your hand tightens slightly in his, nervous and wondering what will come next.

When he cuts the engine, there’s a half a second before he opens the door. Almost speaking but he doesn’t. Instead, he’s climbing out to walk around the truck to open the door.

"I wish you would say something." Even if he's helping you out of the car and holding onto your hand, you can't figure out what's going on in his head. Not having any clue is making you a little panicky the longer it goes on.

Jack stops, two steps away from the path to the front door. “Do you want to come inside?” There’s a fear that you don’t want this. That you are not on the same page as he is.

He's not angry. Or upset anymore, that you can tell. But the determination in his gaze is still there for something that you can't quite put your finger on. "Yes," you decide, nodding as you step toward both him and the house. "I do." Whatever happens, you're hopeful it won't be bad.

You said yes. Your words spur him on again and he’s off like a shot, dragging you behind him. The biometric lock is a godsend. There’s no fumbling for a key at the door as he hustles you inside and slams it behind you both, pressing you against it as he attempts to devour your mouth once more.

This was not the reaction you expected. Not in any way. Not even when he had kissed you twice at Champ’s house before hauling you over to his place with the fires of hell scorching his toes. Anybody else might have read the signals, but not you. Not with the surprised squeal you let out or the soft moan that follows it — both completely outside of your control.

You’re alone now and this time, Jack doesn’t keep his hands on your waist. Both hands grab firm handfuls of your delightful round ass and squeezes as he presses into you. His painfully hard cock grinding into the soft pouches of your hips.

Because of the complete blanket of disbelief you're living under, it takes you longer than you're proud of or will ever admit to realize what is pressing against your hip. It's the first throbbing twitch from under his perfectly tailored suit that has your eyes flying open and both of your hands pressing firmly on his shoulders, breaking the kiss as you gasp in surprise.

“What- I thought-“ Jack’s frown is one of utter confusion as he drops his hands and steps back from you. Hating the feeling of rejection and suddenly wondering if he’s made a fucking fool of himself by getting twisted in knots by a woman who doesn’t actually want him. “‘m sorry.”

"Why?" The incredulous question is out of your mouth before you can stop it, and the confusion marring both of your faces makes you suck in a deep breath. "I—I just—I'm surprised," you admit, as damned foolish as that makes you sound. Fucking shocked is what you are, but you don't want to be labor the point and ruin whatever is happening.

He feels foolish and embarrassed, like he’s been caught with his hand in a candy jar. Reaching up and running his hand through his hair, he blows out a breath. “You said you wanted to come in.” He reasons. “I- what did you think would happen?”

"I—I don't know," you admit, feeling even more ridiculous than he does. Your back is still against his front door, crying out loud. "I ruled out you still being mad at me after you kissed me again but I didn't think..." Gesturing at him lamely, you blow out a breath and rub at the back of your neck. "I'm not saying I want to stop, I was just surprised." If this is the only chance you're going to get with him? You're going to take it and run with it as long as it lasts.

He frowns again, wondering how you could want him and yet be surprised when he wants to take you to bed. “So what do you want, sugar? Because I’m feeling like a penny at the bottom of a pan, rattled.”

The expression cracks the tension, at least for you, and an unexpectedly bright and beaming smile graces your lips as you reach for him boldly and find to your own delight and continued surprise that he doesn't draw away. "What I want is...a long shot." It's more than that, but you're downplaying your own fears to a rather extreme degree right now. Trying to be brave. "But...what are the odds you were thinkin' about taking me upstairs?"

“House odds.” Jack rasps out, knowing that the odds are always in the house’s favor when playing at a casino. “Pondered the idea of strippin’ you down right here and making you squeal against the door, but then tossin’ you over my shoulder and haulin’ you to my large, luxurious bed also has its merits.”

You genuinely have to shut your eyes to steady yourself, exhaling long and deep and praying you aren't actually moaning out loud like you are in your head. As it stands, both images he paints have your knees weak and your body shivering. "Eith—um—either one," you manage to stammer out, eyelashes parting so hesitantly that they flutter like wings. "Either one is good."

“Sexy as you look, sugar….” Now that he knows that you are on the same page as him, a little bit of the cocky swagger is back. “Thinkin’ it’d be a goddamn shame not to spread you out.” Despite your stature, Jack tucks his shoulder and scoops you up over his shoulder like you weigh nothing, bolting for the stairs.

"Holy hell, Jack!" A nervous shout and a squeak escape you when he picks you up, and you cling to his jacket as he carries you through the house you've visited innumerable times before.

Chuckling, Jack slaps your ass with his free hand as he ambles up the stairs easily. “Don’t be nervous, sugar, I won’t drop you.”

This time you definitely do moan out loud, too taken by surprise to stop the sound or swallow it before it can come out of your mouth and you know Jack heard.

He grins to himself, slapping your ass again and is rewarded with another moan. “Mmmmhm.” He chuckles. “Rye likes a little bit of light spanking. Noted.”

"Pretty sure I'll like anything you do," you admit ruefully, though you're quickly feeling the constraints of embarrassment fall away as he reaches his bedroom door. This is real. This is really happening.

"I'll keep that in mind when I hogtie you to the bed and lick whipped cream off your body." He teases, kicking open the slightly ajar door and striding into the room to toss you down on the bed like a character in a romance novel. Right now, he doesn't know if he's supposed to be the hero or the villain, feeling a bit like both as his rough handling of you as him immediately reaching for your ankles to pull off your shoes in his eagerness to see you naked in his bed.

“See?” You huff at him, heavy breathing coming from nothing but an undeniable surplus of desire. “That actually sounds sexy coming from you.” Everything does, but his quick fingers are divesting you of your shoes and that reminds you how your Spanx is part of this undressing process — which is the single least sexy thing in the world.

Jack rips off his tuxedo jacket and tosses it down on the floor. Climbing up onto the bed and over you to press against you fully, pinning you down to the bed with a groan. Quickly capturing your lips again in a frenzied kiss.

It makes no damn sense to you, but you’re not going to question it anymore. If Jack could have literally anyone in the world but for tonight he chooses you, then you’re just going to make sure he doesn’t regret it. That decision on your part sort of pulls you out of your nervous shock, and all at once your hands are pulling open his tie and fumbling with the buttons on his shirt with enthusiasm.

“There we go.” Jack groans when you stop acting shocked and start acting. Your hands on his body makes him shake and he can’t help but rock his hips forward. “Sugar.”

He could probably call you whatever he wanted and you would just go with it, but hearing him call you Sugar — that sickly sweet name he favors so much yet seems to bestow on you so rarely? It feels like you might melt so deeply into his plush mattress that you will never get up again.

Moving from your lips takes sheer willpower but he wants to explore more of you. One hand bracing on the bed and the other sliding up to squeeze your breast as he kisses down your chin and to the soft, vulnerable skin of your throat. “Driving me crazy, baby girl.” He coos, voice rough and lusty. “So goddamn pretty.”

No one who has ever met Jack would be surprised to learn how mouthy the cowboy is in bed. He’s mouthy in every other aspect of his life so frankly it would be pretty strange if this was the exception. Still, to hear those words said to you is beyond your wildest dreams. It’s surreal in the most sensational of ways. Even when you had dreamed of being with Jack, you had never dreamed of him praising you.

He groans when your fingernails bite into the skin on his chest as you hastily push the shirt opened. “Tigress, huh?” He growls, squeezing your tit again, a little harder this time and his hard cock pulses against your inner thigh. “Don’t worry, sugar. I’m just as goddamn eager as you. But ‘ole Jack likes a bit of wildness.” He bites down on your shoulder as he chuckles. “We’ll have ourselves one hell of a rodeo tonight.”

If you even knew where half this boldness came from, you might be a little embarrassed. But given the fact that you never thought this would happen, it mostly just feels like you're telling yourself not to waste the chance. Lightning never strikes the same place twice and this is your lightning strike, so you're going to lean into the whole thing if that's what he really wants. Your nails strike a path down his chest but get caught in his undershirt, a fact which makes you huff in frustration and search blindly for the hem to tear off that layer of clothing as well.

Jack groans and finally decides to give you what you want. Pulling back long enough to finish pulling his arms out of the shirt sleeves, he tears the undershirt off and throws it off the side of the bed to reveal his chest. Unable to resist pulling your dress down to pop your breast out and diving back down to wrap his mouth around a nipple.

"Oh fuck." It's a move you weren't expecting, but your back arches off the mattress instinctively to push your chest up and invite him to take and take and take — just as much as he wants to. If you were coherent enough to suggest it you would try to start wiggling out of your dress but as it is the only thing you can focus on is the heat of him surrounding you and the way every place he kisses you seems to catch on fire immediately at the press of his lips.

He suckles, bites and then licks the hard nub in his mouth like he’s gorging himself on you. Because he is. Hands searching for the zipper to your gorgeous dress. It’s beautiful, but it needs to be beautiful on his floor.

"If you want it off, you have to let me sit up," you manage to huff out, barely able to do more than pant at the way he's clearly trying to devour your tits first.

Groaning in protest, his lips are twisting in a pout as he pulls away. Panting breathlessly as he itches to launch himself at you again. “Hurry up, sugar.”

Your hands are shaking when you reach for the zipper, pulling it down and carefully undoing the clasp at the top before letting the heavily sequined cocktail dress slip off of your arms so you can maneuver it over your head. Half-naked in Jack's bed with panties so soaked you could probably wring them out is not how you expected to end this night, but here you are.

“Fuck.” Jack frowns at the tight shapewear he’s met with. “My present’s a little too wrapped for my liking, baby girl.” He hisses, curling his fingers under the layer to start stripping it off of you. “Want you naked.”

"It was the only way that dress was gonna look halfway decent," you mumble, shifting under him and definitely avoiding looking him in the face while he peels the Spanx off of you. It's a little bit too intimate even for the man you've wanted to be intimate with for years — to the point of making you feel completely naked even when you still have your bra and panties on.

He scoffs, nearly ready to whip his knife out and start slicing the material. “Bullshit.” He huffs, happy there’s just the bra and he uses two fingers to flick the four hooks open. “You don’t need nothin’.” Instead of explaining, he’s diving back into your tits while one hand dips into your panties.

“Fuck, Jack!” Instead of a tight reaction of shock, this time he’s rewarded with a moan and your legs falling open for him as the fingers of one hand dig through his thick hair to scratch along the base of his scalp. If he wants you to be bold, you’ll be bold. You’ll be whatever Jack wants as long as you just get to be in his bed for one night.

Jack moans against your tits, incredibly turned on by the pure moxy he’s always loved in you. Despite your utterly untrue view on yourself, you are sassy, sweet and sexy. That’s why he’s unable to resist now that he’s tasted you. Once he’s teased one breast enough, he switches to the other. “Gonna eat you up, sugar. Devour you whole.”

"All yours." It's sort of unintentional, the vow-like nature of the thing, but you're just being honest. You've really been Jack's since the day you met him. Even if it's taken so many damn years to get the two of you into this situation together, it's still the truth. "Whatever you want, handsome."

He groans, fingers sliding through the sweet slick that is covering your folds. “Want you.” He mumbles as he starts to slide his finger deeper, pressing against your entrance.

It's not even in your mind to ask why when he's splitting you open on two thick fingers like that, and you swear if that's how this night is starting you might actually ascend directly to some higher plain if you get to actual sex. "Ha—fuck— you have me."

“Mmmmmm.” He licks your nipple “Not yet.” He pouts, pulling his fingers back out of you to plunge them in again. “But I will, sugar. Cum for me and then I’ll have you like I’ve been dreamin’.”

The curse you groan out is nearly incoherent, more of an agreement than anything else but you'll be damned if you let this moment be anything less than memorable for both of you. Jack hovers over you and you wind your arms around him to encourage him to continue sucking on your tits while his fingers piston in and out of your pussy with determination. You know it won't take too much longer before your legs start to shake, and as if Jack knows it just as intuitively, he curls his fingers inside you and you gasp out a moan of his name.

His teeth nip at your sensitive flesh as he hisses. Feeling how tight your pussy squeezes his fingers and imagines his cock inside you. Tight and fucking scorching hot, just like he had imagined with his hand wrapped around his cock in the shower. “That’s it, pretty girl.” He coos before he sucks on your nipple again. Moaning when you arch up, writhing under him and making the prettiest, most desperate sounds he’s heard in a long time.

No one who has ever been in this bed has ever left it with any remaining doubts about Jack’s skills as a lover, and while you knew that before? Now you understand it oh-so-very deeply. His fingers pump into you mercilessly, curling at just the right angle to make you cry out in pleasure in every pass, and yet somehow he’s managed to keep the angle of that curl perfect while still holding them apart — stretching your eager pussy open and making sure you’re ready to take every inch of him. All of those intricacies combine with the dedication attention he is lavishing on your tits, and when the tense coil of restraint in your belly snaps it explodes into a thousand white-hot stars behind your eyes as you cum for him.

You’re gorgeous when you fall apart, just like he knew you would be. Keeping his fingers moving, he watches, enthralled with you as you cry out his name in a pitch that has his cock throbbing. The hot gush of your pleasure makes his fingers squelch inside you and he groans out your name while he starts to slow down the rhythm of his hand, letting you float down from your orgasm, drawing it out for you.

“Holy hell…” When your eyes open again you’re completely boneless beneath him, giggling softly at the light-as-air feeling in your body that never ever feels lighter than anything.

Dragging his wet fingers out of your cunt is his own personal kind of hell, but the urge to taste you is too great. Watching you with dark eyes as he slips his two fingers into his mouth with a lusty groan.

“Take your pants off.” The way you groan it is nearly an order but you definitely meant it to be begging, though at this point you don’t care. Especially when he arches an eyebrow at you and smirks. “Take your fucking pants off, Jack.”

Chuckling, he shuffles off the bed to oblige you. “Never let it be said I don’t follow orders, sugar.” He winks as he kicks off the tuxedo pants and hooks his fingers into his boxer briefs. ��These too?”

“The fact that you even wear underwear is a shock,” you tease, motioning for him to continue stripping and trying — but probably not succeeding — to not stare.

He smirks. “Had to contain the beast for once.” He winks as he drags the tight material down. “Don’t wear ‘em normally.”

The Beast is probably as good a name as any, and you have to swallow a groan when he frees his throbbing cock — already damp with precum. It’s a wonder he can contain it, and you’re caught in between wanting to bend forward and taste him or just lying back for him to have his way with you. Curiosity and a curtain of lust win out on the short struggle, and you lean forward to take the purple head of his cock in your mouth just after he climbs back onto the bed.

“Fuck!” Jack moans out loudly and pushes your head away gently after a moment. “Baby, baby…” he pants. “You keep that up and this rodeo will be over before it starts.”

“Sorry…” Embarrassment burns your cheeks, and you shift back to get under his blankets. “I just had to know…”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Jack huffs. Kneeling on the bed and pulling the covers away as you hide your body away from his eyes. “Just don’t want to embarrass myself by blowing my load because of your pretty mouth before I can hear you scream my name.”

“I already have,” you remind him, a softness in your tone belied by the heat in both of your eyes. “Guess I might have to be a little louder this time.”

“Only if it’s right in my ear.” Jack wraps his hand around his cock and strokes it as he reaches for your thigh. “Buried deep inside that little cunt and feeling like I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

It goes without saying that you’re both clean. All Statesman agents are required to have clean bills of health in order to be on the roster for missions and you’re both active agents. “I—have an IUD.” Is what you tell him instead, shivering a little at the reality of what is about to happen.

Eyes lighting up in delight, Jack’s lips curl up. “Oh sugar, it’s not my birthday yet, why are you showerin’ me with presents?” He coos, sliding his hand up and down your ample thigh. “Pretty as a damn picture.”

The real answer is that you’re desperate to feel him, but you just smirk instead, not wanting to get your heart more involved than it already is. “Because I don’t have a condom and I’ll be damned if we stop now because of it.”

“If you want me to get one…” Jack motions back to his pants. “I have one in my wallet.”

“I don’t want the barrier,” you admit, biting your lip at the extremely vulnerable nature of that confession. “If it’s okay with you.”

His smirk turns into a wicked grin. “You read my mind, sugar. I want to feel all of you.”

You could make a joke about how much of you there is to feel, but just this once you stifle the urge. Opting instead to reach out and gently cup Jack's cheeks in both of your hands before pressing a soft, earnest kiss to his lips. "Then what are you waiting for, Cowboy?”

As you lean back, Jack follows you. Climbing up your body and groaning as he settles between your thighs. “You want to cum again, pretty girl?”

"Not without you this time." The reality of Jack is better than anything you thought so far. Since this miracle is surely once in a lifetime, you want it to be as amazing as possible.

Jack groans your name, pressing his lips to yours in another hot, wet kiss. Passionate and consuming as he pushes an arm underneath you. “I’m right here with you.”

As impossible as it seems, he really is. He is right there with you, taking you in his arms and making you feel delicate and desirable for the first real time in your entire adult life.

He doesn’t rush, although he wants to. Every kiss is slow and thorough. Reaching down between you to take hold of himself to notch at your entrance. “Hold on, sugar. See if we can ride for longer than eight seconds.”

“I’m not gonna buck you, Jack.” You can promise him that, because you know damn well you’re going to hold onto this moment for dear life and not question the gift that it is. This one little shining moment is just for the two of you and you’re never going to forget a single second of it.

His eyes are watching, burning into yours as he starts to slowly rock his hips forward. Breaking you open with the first inch of his cock and swooping in to kiss you again when you gasp.

The world slows down, motions stretching into time and blending together in ways that you can’t quite wrap your head around so all you know in this moment is Jack. Every time he thrusts forward again your moans get that much deeper, until on the final experimental rock of his hips, he is seated fully inside you and you feel so spellbound and grateful for the moment that you’re all but sure you could cry. Instead you pour yourself into kissing him, rocking your own hips slightly to take him more comfortably and adjust to the weighty feeling of having him inside you.

“Fuck, baby girl.” Jack inhales sharply, stealing your breath as he tries to rein himself in, throbbing violently inside you. If it weren’t for the fact that he had promised you a rodeo, he would be cumming, overwhelmed by how hot and tight you are. You’re perfect, just like he always imagined. “You be a good girl and take my cock, m’kay?”

Good girl is another one of those sticking points for you just like getting your ass slapped, and if Jack had no idea before, he certainly does now, from the way your cunt just spasmed around his length and you moaned like you were coming all over again.

“Ohhhhhh.” Jack’s eyes nearly cross and he gives a particularly sharp thrust when you clamp down around him. “You like that.” He pants out. “You’re my good girl?”

“S’not fair,” you huff, throwing him a playful pout that gets cut by another shaky moan. “You’re finding all the buttons I like pushed way too easily.”

“You haven’t - fuck - figured out my buttons yet, sugar?” Jack ducks his head down and slides the arm not underneath you down your hip and thigh to pull it up higher. Sinking deeper into you with a moan of your name.

“Liking to have your cock sucked doesn’t—fuck!— count,” you tell him, back arching as he hits a new angle inside you.

He chuckles and licks at your pulse before he nips at your skin with his teeth. Fingers digging into your pillowy flesh and groans when you clench around him again.

Finding a rhythm is as easy as breathing. Being with him is so much more natural and intuitive than you dreamt it would be. Your natural tendency to be a little rougher is equaled by his enthusiasm for making the bedroom a loud and raucous experience. There’s no hiding from each other or demurring, not once you get going. It’s like something inside you has finally been unlocked after a lifetime of waiting — waiting for Jack to come along with the key that would open you up.

If it surprises Jack that you are wild in bed, it’s probably the best goddamn surprise he’s ever gotten. His back burns from the raking of your nails when he hits deep. He fucking loves it. Your wildness makes him go absolutely feral over you.

It’s the opposite of who you are in everyday life. A version of you just for him. A version of you that leaves your worries outside the circle of your bodies and embraces sex as something carefree. Which, if you’re honest, isn’t really how you’ve felt about sex with anyone besides Jack. (edited)

His lips and teeth map every inch that he can reach as he pumps in and out of you frantically. Trying to keep the pace hard and fast because every time your cunt clenches, his hips stutter from how fucking tight you are. “Fuck, my good girl.” He growls. “So fucking tight.”

“So fucking big,” you give back, starting to pant heavier and more unevenly. There’s a whine forming in the back of your throat that you can’t hold back and you bite down on the juncture of Jack’s shoulder as your legs threaten to shake all over again. You’re so close to cumming but you don’t want this to end.

Jack changes the tempo, slowing down and grinding his pelvis against your clit. “You gonna cum for me, baby girl?” He rasps out. “Cum on Jack’s big ‘ole cock and soak me?”

"So—oh, fuck—close, baby." The way you feel right now, you might actually fall apart at the seams when you cum again, but it will be worth it. It will be worth just knowing first hand how gorgeous Jack looks when he follows you over the edge. "Don't stop. Don't fucking stop, Jack."

“Never.” Jack growls, smashing his teeth together and hissing at the way you claw and writhe under him. It’s like taming a feral cat in a pillowcase and he loves it. Your thighs are crushing his hips and all he can do is imagine them around his head. “Cum for me.”

A half dozen thrusts later, your cunt is clenching down on his cock and pulsing with a fierce orgasm that has your thighs tensing at his waist and your back bowing off the bed. Everything seems to be happening at the top of however it possibly could, and that includes the way you cry his name into the night before collapsing back into his sheets with your arms and legs still around him, willing him to follow you to bliss.

Jack moans your name, pants it again against your lips. His brow knitted in concentration as he tries to last. His body tightening and tensing as his pleasure builds to that almost painful precipice. His heart pounding, but not because of the physical exertion, but because of the almost loving look on your eyes. “Love you.” He moans, right as his lips crash against yours and he breathes it into your mouth again. “Love you.”

You freeze under him, but Jack is too caught in his bliss to tell. Like a bucket of water has been splashed over the bubble of this night and popped that shell keeping you separate from the world. Did he just...? There's no way. There's just absolutely no way at all. You must have imagined it. Wished for it so desperately that you hallucinated the words. Because otherwise you're not quite sure what you'll do — because Jack has never lied to you. But he's also never given you any reason to think your feelings might be requited.

Caught up in his orgasm, Jack rides wave after wave of complete bliss as he empties himself into you, metaphorically and physically. Giving you every bit of himself as he finally acknowledges the truth of why he has always kept you at arms length. His love for you terrifying him, but right now, he’s flying. Collapsing into your arms and panting out your name as he catches his breath.

There's nothing you can do with this shock except bury it, holding him and gently stroking his hair while he catches his breath with his head on your chest. You imagined it, you remind yourself silently, blinking back tears at how much you wish it was true.

The whiskey, the emotions and the exertion have Jack cuddly and sleepy as he comes down from his orgasm. “Fuck, baby girl.” He hums, kissing your neck as he slowly pulls out of you and shifts to your side to roll you over with him. “Wore me out.” He chuckles. “But gave a hell of a ride.”

He tucks you into his arms to be his little spoon, not letting you get away for even a second. Any other time? This would have been thrilling. "Get some sleep, baby." Returning the pet name seems innocent enough, and you reach back to run your fingers through his hair gently. "You earned it."

His eyes are closed when he shoots you a sleepy grin. “Talk when we wake up, sugar.” He promises, fingers stroking your skin softly.

That promise might be why you sleep so fitfully in the night to follow. Why you're so wound up that when your Statesman issued phone chirps from your purse on his floor around 6:30 in the morning, your eyes open immediately. Jack has turned over in the night, sleeping on his back now with one arm still around you but not so tightly that you can't extract yourself to answer the message. That phone is used only for missions and confidential communication, meaning you absolutely cannot ignore it. Incoming Message: Agent Rye report immediately for mission briefing. CODE BLACK. Code Black. You curse under your breath, careful not to wake Jack, and rub one hand down your face in dismay. That level of secrecy in a mission assignment means you can't even wake him up to say goodbye. You're supposed to speak to no one, just proceed immediately to the nearest Statesman branch for your mission briefing. With a sigh and another, more colorful curse, you shake your head and glance back at the bed where Jack is sleeping soundly. There's nothing to do but get dressed and Walk of Shame your ass into the office. You just wish you could wake him up to say goodbye.

It’s been years since Jack has slept so well. Deep and dreamless, none of the nightmares that often plague his rest. The soft scent of you surrounding him and soothing him like nothing he’s had in a long time. When his eyes open, he’s feeling like he’s had the best sleep of his life. Frowning when he doesn’t feel you next to him. Calling out your name softly in case you were in the bathroom. “Rye? Sugar?”

There's no trace of you anywhere. He may as well have come home alone last night, except for the scent of you in the air and the scratches on his back. It's almost an insult when he sees a fallen sequin on the rug where your dress had been tossed.

“Fuck.” Jack’s slipped out of plenty of beds, ducked out and kept walking. The walk of shame was never shameful when there was a little bit of pep to his step, but right now, he’s pissed. Pissed you didn’t have the fucking balls to wake him before you slipped off like a thief in the night. Snatching up his pants, he digs into the pocket for his phone, dialing your number and ready to have it out with you.

"Hi! Sorry I can't come to the phone right now. Please leave a message and I'll call you back as soon as I'm able!" Your voicemail message is insultingly chipper when it picks up right away, almost taunting him. Like you aren't willing to talk, when nothing could be farther from the truth.

“Fuck!” Jack shouts, throwing the phone and scowling angrily. Pissed that you aren’t here, that you apparently don’t want to talk to him. “Fine, you regret it? Fuck you too.” He growls and stomps into the bathroom to shower. If you wanted nothing to do with him after he had let down his walls last night, he wants nothing to do with you either.

******

"What's got you all chewed up and spat out today?" Tequila raises an eyebrow at Jack when he comes huffing into the office, a little late and a lot pissed off. He had expected Jack to be in a stellar mood.

“Not a goddamn thing.” Even though his feathers are ruffled, Jack practically refuses to even think about you. To the point where he had thrown the sheets and the costly Tom Ford tuxedo away. “Whadda we got?” Desperate to concentrate on a mission, he jumps straight into business.

"Wingman prep." Tequila tells him, tapping the folder on his own desktop. "Somebody got tapped this morning and Champ wants us to comb some old mission files to prep for an extraction. Plan B sorta shit." And since all of the mission-ready agents on the Statesman payroll are top notch with years of experience under their belts, anyone potentially needing an extraction from a mission is a big fucking deal.

“Who got tapped?” Jack asks, grabbing a file and flipping it open with a frown on his face. “Scotch?”

"I thought you'd know already." Tequila's eyes snap back up to Jack in concern. "It was Rye."

Jack freezes and slowly lifts his eyes from the file to find Tequila frowning at him, confused by how he doesn’t know. “Why would I know that?” Jack asks after a moment. It explains why your phone was off, but you had still slipped out without saying a fucking word.

"Because...you went home with her last night?" Everybody knows that you and Jack left the party. Absolutely everyone. There was a whole extra celebration after you left. "Figured you woulda known by her getting up this morning and all."

There’s a split second where Jack wants to snap that you had left him to wake up alone, but he doesn’t. What comes out of his mouth instead, is to deny the whole thing. “Took her home.” Jack shrugs, lying easily as if he couldn’t care less. “She wanted to soak in a bath and read some book.”

The frown on Tequila's face deepens measurably, pure confusion marring his usually chipper face. "Bullshit," he huffs, leaning back in his desk chair. "I saw you kiss her. No way."

“Believe what you want.” Jack snaps flatly. “Where are we in planning the back up plans?” The hurt is soothed slightly by you being called away, but it doesn’t make it nonexistent. You hadn’t even left a goddamn message for him. He could have seen not waking him if you had left some sign that you didn’t regret the night even happened.

"Early stages." Knowing better than to poke the dragon when he's mad about something, Tequila defers to work like Jack clearly wants. "Tell me what you think, but I think me on the ground and you in the Silver Pony is the best bet." Whatever happened between you and Jack, the man is clearly hurt, and Tequila makes a note to go and talk to Ginger when he gets his next chance. If you had said anything to anyone, it would be to her.

“Whatever.” Jack practically rolls his eyes and shrugs. Usually he loves the opportunity to fly and show off in the Silver Pony, but he’s so worked up over you that he doesn’t even bat an eyelash. “Guess that’s the plan. If needed.”

“If needed.” All Tequila does is nod, but damn he really needs to talk to Ginger.

******

Jack holes up in his office, barely answering the phone and not leaving it all day, not even for lunch. Catching up on paperwork that is normally never done as he works through not being at home. Not remembering how you tasted and sounded last night. He’s even refused to pull up your camera footage, not wanting to see what you are doing. He’s miserable and is determined to stay that way.

“Thought I’d find you in here.” Champ’s gruff voice cuts through the silence long after everyone else has gone home for the night. He knew exactly where Jack would be. Especially after Tequila said the senior agent was out of sorts. “Come up to my office, Jack. We’re gonna have a drink.” It’s not a suggestion or a request. This is a direct order from this commander, and Champ turns around and heads back down the hall knowing Jack will follow.

Jack sighs and sets his pen down, ripping the reading glasses off his face and tossing them down on the folder. He had stayed cooped up in his office so he didn’t take his bad mood out on anyone so he doesn’t see why he needs to be called out onto the carpet. Still, he pushes back from his desk and follows the older man to the conference room Champ preferred over his official office. The bar cart in here was better stocked.

“Pick your poison.” Champ tells him, motioning for Jack to sit down at the conference table as he strolls over to the cart to grab a bottle and two glasses.

“Whatever your havin’.” Jack wonders what this is about, but he doesn’t ask. Just waits patiently for his boss to get to the reason in his own sweet time.

Champ grunts slightly, grabbing a bottle of ‘74 Reserve, and brings it to the table. He pours two fingers in each glass and slides one over to set in front of Jack before sitting down beside him and taking a sip from his own glass. “You’ve been hidin’ today,” he assesses after a moment of silence. “But I hear you damn near took Tequila’s head off this morning when you got in.”

“Can’t have a bad day?” Jack asks, picking up the whiskey and staring at it before taking a sip. “Woke up wrong, that’s all. I’ll apologize to the crybaby later.”

“He’s not a damn crybaby,” Champ huffs, covering his own amusement with a scowl. “I walked by your damn office, fool. And when he did come talk to me about it, it was because he was worried about you.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jack scowls and shakes his head. “I had a bad morning. I’m fine. Not gonna go off and try to kill all the drug users again.”

“Not saying you would.” Holding up his hands in a show of innocence, Champ leans back all the way and stares down his nose at Jack for a second longer before he shakes his head and shrugs. “But between you and me just these walls? Just thought you might wanna know that Rye got sent off Code Black, is all.” He isn’t supposed to say. Black is black. It’s too priority and top security. But you’d been so torn up this morning and Jack’s been so out of sorts in his own way that Champ has rightfully assumed that something fairly big must’ve happened after you left the party.

His jaw nearly drops. Champ never gives information away like that. He frowns, looking back down at his glass again and feeling relieved. If you had gotten a Code Black, you couldn’t wake him up. It would have been against protocol. He swallows and finally nods. “Good to know.”

“Just don’t want you stewing over it.” The older man says, watching carefully as he sips from his glass again. “You wanna be upset with anyone, it’s me. Not her.”

“Right.” Jack drains the rest of the whiskey and the crystal hits the table slightly harder than normal. “Anything else?”

“Nah. That’s it.” There’s nothing more that Champ can really say, and now Jack needs to process. That’s just how these things work. “See ya in the morning, Daniels.”

Jack stands. “‘Night, Champ.” He walks out of the room and back down the hall towards his office, looking down at his feet as he goes.

******

It’s two weeks before Tequila and Jack are given a stand-down order and told their rescue mission won’t be necessary. Mission success, they’re told with authority, even though it took longer than expected. They don’t get more than that, though, and Jack is walking past Ginger’s lab on his way out of the office late that night when he hears your voice again for the first time in weeks. It’s tired, and quiet, but unmistakable. “Can we just get this over with, Ging?” You ask your friend quietly, knowing that decontamination and a full physical are extremely necessary considering where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing. But you want to get the hell out of here and finally go talk to Jack.

He would never admit it, but he’s been living at Statesman. Barely going home to change and often refreshing the outfits that he keeps in his office for unexpected late nights. On call the entire time in case you needed him. Now you are here and Jack feels like running away. So much self doubt had built up over two weeks, he’s driven himself crazy over every little thing. Obsessing over the details of New Years.

“Once you have a clean bill of health, you go storm the ranch or whatever it is you’re going to do.” Ginger teases, full of warmth. “But I would try his office first.”

Jack frowns slightly and wonders what the hell Ginger is talking about, storming the ranch. He almost pushes the door open, but he doesn’t. Just wants to see what you will say if you know that he’s not listening.

“It’s been two weeks, Ging.” The pops and hums and beeps of her equipment punctuate your voice from inside the lab. “Every single second I haven’t been thinking about this mission I’ve been reliving that night. And I could kill Champ for sending me away Code fucking Black before I could even tell Jack how I feel about him.”

“I know it was bad timing.” He hears Ginger sigh. “But hopefully it gave you some time to think about what you’re going to say?”

Jack’s stomach twists and he feels nauseous. Wondering if you’ve decided that it was a mistake. He swallows harshly and whirls around, not wanting to hear how you plan on letting him down or friend zoning him.

“I’m going to tell him the truth,” he misses hearing you say. “That I’ve been in love with him for six years, and that I’m done being a coward about it.” This mission so easily could have killed you every single day that it became something of an eye opener. Getting back to Jack had become the most dominant and driving force in your mind at times.

Walking down to his office has Jack twisted in knots. He’s never been a coward before but he damn sure feels like running. Playing back that night in his head over and over had made him realize what he had said. More importantly, what you hadn’t said back. Walking over to his bar cart, he pours himself a heavy double and bolts it down. He’ll get wasted after you crush his hopes but that was needed so he doesn’t beg like a pathetic wretch. He needs to keep his pride somehow.

It’s twenty more minutes before he hears footsteps in the hall and hears your tentative voice calling his name. “Jack?” There’s nerves in it, anxiety hovering around you despite your triumphant mission. But you appear in his doorway looking worried and chewing your lip. “Hey…you’re still here.”

“Work’s never done.” Jack huffs, plastering on a friendly but not too friendly expression. “Haven’t seen you around in a few weeks. Mission go alright?” It’s painful to see you in that doorway, looking tired and beautiful. Reminding him of how you looked before he had fallen asleep and lost you.

“I’m home and in one piece.” It’s what you always say, but at least it’s true. He doesn’t exactly look happy to see you, though, and that makes you falter a little. Not enough to shake your resolve, but your optimism that he’ll respond with joy cracks right away. “Do you…can we talk a little?”

“Sure.” He takes off his reading glasses and stands. Moving over to the alcohol again. “Want a drink?” He asks, not looking over his shoulder at you. He sees the worry on your face and knows you are concerned about your working relationship. What he will do will be accept your wants, wish you well and promise that he will not let what happened affect your professional relationship. Then he will demand a transfer to the New York office, permanently. You nod and he pours out two drinks. “What’s on your mind, Rye?”

“Well…you are.” It seems like such an obvious answer that it almost feels silly saying it, but he won’t even look you in the eye so staring at the beginning seems like a good idea.

“Oh?” Turning around is hard, but he manages to look curious instead of sick to his stomach. “Now why would I be on your mind, sugar?” The endearment slips out and he nearly bites his tongue as he carries them over to the small sofa area.

The message is loud and clear: it really didn’t mean anything to him. Regardless, though, you have to power through. If he really didn’t mean what he said and has no interest in being with you, you’ll request a permanent transfer. Chicago, Dallas, Los Angeles — anywhere but here or New York. Swallowing a sigh, you accept the glass from him but just hold it in your hands while you gather your thoughts. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk before I had to leave,” you start, trying not to let the warmth and proximity of him get under your skin so easily. But you can’t really help it. “I did the best I could for a message to let you know what had happened, but it wasn’t much. And I’m sorry for that, too.”

His facade cracks, the scowl as quick to vanish as it appears and he scoffs. “Message received, Rye. A lone sequin on the floor. Practically like it was a dream, except for that.” He tosses back the whiskey. “Can you just get to the part where you tell me it was a mistake, you don’t want to ruin our friendship or work relationship? Or whatever bullshit excuse you’ve settled on to tell me you regret it?” His eyes are dark and pained when they finally land on you, barely resisting the urge to flee.

“On the floor?” Your brow furrowed instantly, a frown painting itself on your lips, and you set the glass in your hands aside to shift closer to him on the little couch. “Jack, I left a sequin on your nightstand.” The choice was even more horrible than you had worried it would be, apparently, because he looks so hurt he could actually cry. A fact which makes you instantly want to cry as well. “A black sequin was the best I could do for a signal. It—it must have…blown off. Stupid fucking flapper dress with all that fringe. It must have gone flying when I left the room.” There was no other breeze, no window open or fan blowing. Only you could have sabotaged yourself like that.

He doesn’t believe you and shakes his head. “Why would you leave a black-“ he trails off when it hits him. Black sequin - Code Black. Trying to tell him that you had wanted to leave a message but couldn’t. Champ had broken protocol by telling him about the Code Black and apparently you had tried to signal the same thing. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” You shake your head in resignation, blowing out a shuddering breath. “I didn’t want to leave. Especially not after…” Another shaky breath leaves the rest of you shaking in turn, and you shove your hands under your legs on the couch. This is the most terrifying thing you’ve ever asked a person in your entire life. “Did you…mean it? What you said?”

Jack bites his lip, wanting to ask you what you’re talking about but he can’t do that. You look distraught that he had thought you had just disappeared. “Yeah.” Jack admits quietly. “Look, I know that it’s not something you were expectin’ ta hear, and you don’t feel the same.” He rolls on with the emotions that he needs to get out. “I won’t be mad, or take it out on you. But that night….fuck.” He blows out a breath. “I got to touch you. Just like I fuckin’ dreamed of. And I couldn’t just let you think it was a heat of the moment thing for me.”

“Why do you think I don’t feel the same?” With your heart beating wildly and your shakiness only increasing, there’s a sort of explosive quality in your mind and body that you can’t quite figure out how to control. Like all you want to do is launch yourself at him for a kiss but you know you need to talk first. To get it all out in the open. To be honest with each other. “I—I honestly had no idea you thought of me as anything but a friend. I was…well…shocked is a bit of an understatement.”

Jack snorts. “I know my reputation. Hell, I crafted it. But I couldn’t flirt with you. It’s too- shit- you had me from the first time we met. I was fucking hooked and it wouldn’t have been right. You were a junior agent and -“ he shakes his head. “I was running from the kind of commitment you were made for.”

“Your reputation was built by a man who had loved his wife so deeply that he couldn’t bear the thought of loving and losing again,” you remind him quietly. You sure you hadn’t known that right away, but when you had learned about his wife and son, you understood implicitly. “But it…it never stopped me from falling in love with you. Even when I thought I’d never be more to you than an acquaintance. I considered myself damn lucky to eventually become your friend. I just thought…I thought the fact that you never, ever flirted with me…meant that it was unrequited. So I made myself okay with it. Until two weeks ago.”

“I respect you, Rye.” Jack murmurs quietly. “I didn’t want to make it seem like you were everyone else, because you weren’t.” It’s backwards and twisted, but no one ever said that he had defeated all his demons. “When I broke- I gave you everything.”

“More than you know.” A soft huff of a laugh escapes you and you shake your head again, willing your nerves to calm down even a little. “Just…please understand, Jack. That I’ve been in love with you since the second I met you. And the only reason I didn’t say it back the night we slept together is because I was so shocked to hear it from you in the first place. I thought I’d hallucinated what I wanted to hear, and then before I knew it we were asleep…and then I woke up to a Code Black.”

“I was upset.” Jack admits quietly. “Really upset.” He flushes slightly. “May have been thinkin’ some not-so-polite things until Tequila told me it was you who was slated for the mission.” He won’t tell you that Champ had broken the rules. “Convinced myself that you had run off to go save the world so you wouldn’t have to tell me that you’d had too much alcohol and that’s why you let me take you home.”

“Not at all.” Taking a chance, you reach for his hand and practically sigh in relief when he slots his fingers through yours. “I pretty much thought I’d died and gone to heaven, if I’m honest. I just kept thinking…if this only happens once, I never want to forget a single thing.” You squeeze his hand gently, wishing you could have said all this two weeks ago. “I’m sorry my message didn’t work. That’s…you have every right to think nasty things about me. I’m so sorry.”

“No I don’t.” Jack protests. “Not if you meant to be here. Not if you wanted to be here the next morning. Then it’s just a bad misunderstanding and I’m sorry.”

“Then I guess we’re both sorry.” He’ll never know that you cried all the way to the office that morning at having to leave him, you decide right now. It would only make him feel even more guilty and he doesn’t deserve that. “But I’m not sorry about what happened between us.”

“You aren’t?” He tightens his grip on your hand, relaxing slowly as you talk and he understands that this was one giant cluster fuck. He’s used to those, he can handle those. “That’s good, sugar. Because New Years was probably the best night of my life.”

“God, I hope you mean that.” Your shakiness is for more than one reason, although you needed to have this conversation first. Whatever the two of you decide will happen next is a decision made by both of you, not just you alone. “Because…Ginger couldn’t clear me…after my physical. I can’t go back on the list.”

Jack frowns, brows pulling together. “Why can’t Ginger clear you? What’s wrong?” There’s a number of things that can be fixed by Statesman tech and he’s worried that it’s something bad.

Your stomach churns with worry, but there’s nothing to be done about it now. The unmistakable advances of Statesman tech can do things that most doctors absolutely cannot, thanks to Ginger Ale, and you’re not sure whether to thank her or curse her. “It’s not that something’s wrong, technically,” you admit, giving another worried squeeze to his hand. “But we probably ought to have used that condom…”

Jack’s eyes widen and they drop to your stomach, discerning the meaning of your comment. You aren’t a liar and Jack would believe you if you said you didn’t sleep with someone else, but he’s confused. “Sugar- how?” He chokes out. “I got snipped when I joined Statesman.”

“When was the last time you had your sperm count checked?” You had made Ginger do the test three times, but the result was always the same. Your birth control failed and Jack’s second kid is already growing, if very slowly. “The chances of a vasectomy failing are less than one percent, but it can still happen.”

Jack frowns and then rolls his eyes and groans. “The chamber.” He remembers. “When I got shot and then- uh, put back together.” He shakes his head. “Ging said I might need to get it checked but I dadgum forgot.” He bites his lip and tries not to freak out over the fact that you are pregnant after your one and only time together. “What do you want, sugar?” He asks.

“Not more than you’re willing to give freely.” The answer is that you want all of him. Every single bit. Love and a life and a family. But you know that even if Jack does love you, he’s never loved anyone the way he loved his wife. And losing Maria nearly destroyed him, so he may not be willing to take that chance again. “But I…unless you really object…I’m keeping the baby. Even if you don’t want a commitment or anything. I just…you’re right about me. I want a family and if this is my only chance I don’t want to give that up. Especially not if I get even the littlest piece of you with it.”

“You think I would-“ he shakes his head. “No, I would never force you, one way or the other.” He frowns. “I was asking if you wanted to have a baby. And if you think I’m gonna sit back and let you raise it by yourself, you must have hit your dadgum head.”

“I want this baby.” It had only taken about ten seconds after learning it existed to determine that, even if you’re still grappling with the reality of it. “And I want you.” You inch closer to him on the couch. “However you want to be together. That part is up to you.”

“It’s been a long damn time since I’ve thought about being a daddy, sugar.” There’s a slight smirk on his face but he doesn’t make the obvious crude joke. “But I’m pretty traditional when you break it down. I’m not gonna want to be apart from you and our baby.”

He might not have made the joke but you still laugh, having made the sugar daddy connection in your mind easily enough. “I know it’s a lot, Jack. And we didn’t plan it. But…” All you can do is shrug your shoulders slightly, looking up at him with such obvious hope and even more obvious water behind your eyes. “But, I love you.”

“I meant it, baby girl.” He promises you, reaching out to caress your cheek and then cup it. “I love you. I love you so much, sugar.” Licking his lips, his eyes drop down to yours. “Can I kiss you?”

"I wish you would." practically beaming at him, you lean in and let the moment wash over you. Jack's lips against yours. His hands on your skin. His baby - your baby - is already starting to grow.

Jack pulls you close, pressing his lips against yours and groaning softly. “Sugar, you’re gonna have my baby.” He whispers against your lips in awe. “Just the one time, one time between your thighs and you are carrying my baby.”

“One time is all it takes.” You can’t help the broad way you smile, giggling softly against his lips as you steal another kiss.

“I don’t regret it.” He promises. “I don’t regret you.” He smiles as he kisses you again. “We really did shake things up for New Years, didn’t we?”

“Just a little bit.” Another laugh escapes you, and you lean into his side only to be rewarded with Jack’s arms encircling you and holding you close. “I don’t regret any of it. Except maybe not making my message a whole lot clearer.”

“We’ll get better at communicatin’.” Jack promises with a smile. “We’re partners now.”

“Do you want to go get dinner, maybe?” The end of a mission can be crazy even when it’s successful, and you just want to try to relax tonight. Especially with everything changing in your personal life too, apparently. “My treat?”

Jack scoffs and shakes his head. “You ain’t paying, sugar.” He huffs. “Not while you’re with me. If you want dinner, we can go out, or I can take you home and throw some steaks on the grill.”

“I kind of want to celebrate,” you admit, feeling silly about it even though it’s the truth. “If that’s okay?”

“Then we’ll go out and celebrate.” Jack promises before he frowns at something you had said. “Why would you have thought I would never be interested in you?”

“Because…” It feels sillier than the celebration thing now that you know the truth. Silly and even a little pointless, but he asked so you’ll tell him. “Because you flirted with every woman in the world besides me. Which Ginger said is how she knew you were interested in me. But I didn’t believe her.”

“You know you’re wrong, don’t cha?” Jack asks you. “When you said that you get sent on assignments to be invisible? You’re sent on the assignments you are given because you get the job done. Champ knows that if he gives you a task, it will be done.”

“Whatever the reason is, he’ll have to do without me for about a year.” It isn’t worth having a debate over your lack of self esteem with him right now, and you especially don’t want to ruin the mood by crying anything other than happy tears, so you just redirect the conversation altogether. “This baby is my top priority.”

“Our top priority.” He corrects you. He’s nervous, terrified really, but there’s no one he’d rather have a happy accident with than you. “Our New Year’s baby.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Jack Daniels #Agent Whiskey #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x you #Jack Daniels x female reader #Jack Daniels x f!reader #Jack Daniels x plus size reader #Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels #Kingsman Golden Circle #new years eve #new years fic #idiots in love #pining #the love is requited they're just dumb

[ghostofaboy]

Inter-Agency Cooperation

Summary: Jack runs into another agent on a mission and figures out a new way for them both to get what they want.

Pairing: Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels/Javier Peña Rating: Explicit. Serious over 18s only | Word Count: 2633

Warnings: Frottage, anal sex, public sex, Jack is his own warning

Note: This as not been beta read so I apologize for any mistakes. This is a fic with gay/bi characters. Please make sure you've read the warnings. Header by @beskarandblasters

Of all the places Jack thought he'd find himself today, a dive bar in the middle of butt fuck nowhere watching a cage fight wasn't even on his list. Silly, really, considering all the strange places his Statesman missions took him. All around him, large drunken men in plaid shirts jeered and shouted at the two half naked men in the cage. The entire bar stank of stale beer and sweat, which made Jack long for the heady woody smells of the Statesman barrel room, but he couldn't argue with the view.

In the cage, a massive slapdash metal structure that dominated the center of the rundown establishment, were two young men. Neither could have been older than twenty-five, both striped to the waist in just their jeans, and both covered in blood and sweat. It was the most homoerotic shit Jack had ever seen in such a painfully hetero bar. He had to stifle a laugh whenever he thought about it.

Taking another sip of his shitty beer, Jack glanced over to his mark, only to find him in the exact same spot since the last time he checked. Fast asleep in a corner booth, drooling into his thick, bushy beard. Another quick look around the bar confirmed that no one else was paying either of them any attention; except for one man.

Sat at a table, set off to the corner with a view of Jack, his mark and the cage, was a broody looking motherfucker. Sporting a well-worn leather jacket, a mustache similar to his own and a casual air that oozed practiced confidence, the other man had definitely made him. Everything about this guy said agent, the only question was what kind.

Jack's money was on CIA considering the dealings his sleepy mark was into, but FBI was also a possibility. There was only one way to find out, and considering Jack didn't feel like competing with another agent for the mark, working together was the better option for them both. Eying the other man, Jack could see he was also nursing what passed for beer in this shithole. There was his opening.

Sliding off his barstool, Jack glanced over at the two young men now slumping against each other, gasping for breath, the sweat rolling off them. Swaggering over to the stranger's table, Jack was met with a single raised eyebrow and a tilt of the head.

"Evenin'." Jack tipped his hat, before leaning down slightly closer to the other man. "Enjoyin' the entertainment?"

"Not my usual kind of thing." The other man smirked and Jack could just pick out the hints of a Texan accent. "But when in Rome or whatever."

"I agree." Jack gave a chuckle. "Almost makes up for the terrible beer. Do you mind if I join you?" Jack gestured to the free chair next to the stranger.

The other man didn't respond beyond a small nod, but his eyes watched Jack intently as he slid into the seat. 

“I don’t know about you,” Jack leaned in conspiratorially, “but I usually prefer somethin’ a little stronger. Now, I’m a whiskey man myself. How about you?”

“I’m a cut the bullshit kinda man.” The stranger sat up a little straighter, locking eyes with Jack with a steadiness that could only come from years of experience in the field. “So, why don’t you do us both a favor and tell me who you are and what you want.”

“To the point, I respect that.” Jack nodded. “All right. I’m Agent Jack Daniels, and I’m here keepin’ an eye on that fella over there. Reckon you know who I mean, seein’ as you’ve also got eyes on him. I need him alive as part of an investigation, and I get the feelin’ you do too.”

“You CIA?”

“No.” Jack carefully pulled his fake DIA badge from his jacket, flashing it under the table at the stranger. “You?”

“DEA.” The stranger mimicked Jack, carefully and covertly showing his badge. “Javier Peña. Our guy has links to a new player in the narcotics trade.”

“Indeed he does.” Jack nodded again, glancing around to make sure no one was watching or listening to them. “Amongst other things. Peña, huh? Weren’t you part of the team that took down Escobar?”

Javier shifted in his seat. “That was a long time ago. So what do you want to do? I’m here tonight to see who he meets up with.”

“He ain’t meetin’ up with anyone tonight. He was meant to, but I’ve already made sure that ain’t happenin’.” Jack leaned back in his chair, his eyes drifting over to the cage fighters who were rolling around on the floor trading punches. “The dumb fuck’ll stay here, so I was gonna wait until the mornin’ and tail him back to wherever he’s holed up. You’re welcome to join me.”

Jack watched as Javier’s sharp eyes assessed him thoroughly. Jack could feel those dark eyes taking in every detail of him and knew that on some level Javier wasn’t buying his story. But was it enough for him to leave?

“Fine.” Javier scowled, taking a swig of beer, pulling a face at the taste. “I guess we just wait then.”

“At least there’s a show.” Jack gestured to the cage, scooting his chair back slightly so he was parallel to Javier at the table. “Who’s your money on? The fuckin’ twink blond or the other one?”

“At least that one can grow facial hair.” Javier let out a harsh laugh as he watched the two fighters. 

The crowd was getting impatient now, roaring and booing for the two young men to hurry up and finish. The blond responded by lunging at the darker haired man, who stepped back to avoid the attack. Grabbing hold of each other by the jeans, the two men fell to the floor of the cage again, tussling back and forth, much to the pleasure of the crowd. 

A loud whoop came from one section of the gathered men and as Jack craned his neck to look he could see that the blond had managed to pull down the other man’s jeans, exposing his ass. As the fighters rolled, grabbed and tugged at each other, the jeans worked their way further down until the man’s cock and balls were free. By this point, he was pinned under the blond, who had straddled his back, causing the other man’s legs to kick wildly. The result was a fantastic view of his asshole bared for the crowd, with his heavy dick and balls swinging back and forth. 

Much of the crowd was cheering now, clearly enjoying what they were seeing, as the blond fighter rolled the other man onto his back, yanking his jeans completely off victoriously. Now stark naked, bruised and bloodied, the other fighter slowly climbed to his feet before quickly barrelling into the blond. 

Jack could feel his cock stirring as he watched the younger fighter’s naked body in front of him. He wasn’t alone, and Jack could spot more than a few tented pants in the audience. The blond was grabbing the other fighter’s ass and pulling his cheeks open, giving everyone a good view of a tight puckered hole, and Jack could feel his cheeks heating up as he stared. Pulling his eyes away to grab his hip flask from his belt, Jack’s eye flickered over to Javier. 

The other man was leaning back casually in his chair, giving the impression to anyone that he was completely disinterested in what he was watching. Taking a mouthful of whiskey, Jack let his eyes drift lower, his curiosity getting the better of him, and to Jack’s delight he could see the very obvious outline of an erection in those ridiculously tight jeans.

Holding his flask out to Javier, Jack couldn’t stop himself smirking as the other man jumped slightly, dropping the veneer of coolness for a moment, before taking the flask. Letting his eyes drop back down to the bulge in Javier’s jeans, Jack made sure to let the other man catch him looking as the flask was returned to him. 

“Good show, am I right?” Jack’s voice was a husky whisper as he leaned over to Javier. 

“Uh, sure.” Javier’s cheeks flushed slightly as he glanced around, looking everywhere in the bar except at the two young men glistening with sweat as the naked fighter ripped open the blond’s jeans as he swung him against the cage. His body clattering against the metal, his long cock squashed against the bars.

Jack waiting patiently until Javier’s eyes returned to him before gesturing discreetly at his hard on. “Wanna fuck?”

/////

Crashing around the back of the bar, lips clumsily found lips as teeth clashed and hands roamed. Slamming Jack up against the wall of the building, Javier’s mouth forcefully met his as the two men grunted and moaned in the cold night.

Venturing his hands lower, Jack cupped Javier’s erection through the denim, making the other man buck into his palm as he forced his tongue past Jack’s lips. It had been a long time since Jack had been with someone so aggressively dominant, and it was going straight to his cock, which strained against its confines.

Tugging open Javier’s fly, Jack reached inside, stroking the hard length, feeling it twitch in his hand as Javier’s finger’s tangled into Jack’s hair under his hat. Freeing his own cock, Jack pulled Javier in closer, bringing their erections together, as he began to steadily pump them with his hands. 

Javier moaned into Jack’s mouth an incomprehensible stream of English and Spanish as he trapped Jack against the wall, pinning him with his body as he rolled his hips in time with Jack’s strokes. But it wasn’t enough. Jack needed more. There was something about this grumpy DEA agent that was filling his head with the most obscene thoughts, and damn it if Jack wasn’t going to try and fulfil some of them.

Pulling his head back slightly to break the frantic kiss, Jack nuzzled against Javier’s jaw as the other man growled and ground against him.

“You wanna fuck me?” Jack panted into Javier’s ear, stopping his hand and pulling it away from their cocks. “I got lube and condoms.”

“Yes.” Was the simple, growled response as Javier took a step back, glancing around as Jack fished a condom out of his jacket.

As Javier busied himself putting it on, Jack quickly unbuckled his belt, pulling his jeans and underwear down to his knees. Reaching behind him, Jack pushed a finger into his ass, hissing at the coldness of the lube, before adding a second finger. Satisfied at the lubrication, Jack handed the tube to Javier, who applied a couple of drops before returning it.

Turning round, Jack steadied himself on the wall with his forearms, planting his feet as far apart as he could and bend over slightly to give Javier access to his ass. He could feel a hand on his bare hip and the tip of Javier’s cock lining up with his entrance before, slowly, Javier began to enter Jack. 

Jack let his head drop down as he bit back a moan as Javier’s thick length steady began to fill him. Inch by inch, Javier sank into Jack's hot waiting hole, both hands now gripping Jack's hips as his cock disappeared into Jack's body. Then, once he was buried to the hilt, Javier paused. Jack could hear him muttering and breathing heavily behind him as Jack adjusted to the size.

"You good?" Javier eventually whispered, one hand idly stroking Jack's exposed skin.

"I'm good." Jack hissed back, his arousal fogging his head. "Gimme all you got."

Jack heard a soft chuckled before Javier began to move. Pulling almost completely out slowly, before suddenly slamming back into Jack's waiting ass. Jack bit back a yelp as Javier began to set a rough, unrelenting pace. Each thrust pounding into Jack, rocking him forward until his cheek was barely touching the cold stone of the building. Javier's hips snapped against him as the obscene sound of flesh against flesh filled the night air. 

But it still wasn't enough. Jack was sure at this pace Javier wasn't going to last long, and given their extremely public locale that might be for the best. But Jack needed more. Arching his back, Jack tilted his hips slightly and sure enough the next time Javier plunged into him a jolt of electricity coursed through Jack. That's what he needed.

Javier seemed to quickly pick up on what Jack wanted, grabbing his hip with one hand and his hair with another to keep Jack in the right position. Then, like a jackhammer, Javier began to brutally fuck Jack. 

Jack's skin prickled with heat as the tension building in him threatened to explode. All he could do was get out shaking moans, and Javier huffed and panted behind him. The pace was becoming more erratic now, with each strike of Javier's hips against his ass, Jack could feel the other man's grip on his control slipping. The hands holding him dug their fingers in deep as Javier's tempo faltered. 

Between his legs, Jack's cock swung with every thrust, adding to the tantalizing anticipation as he got closer and closer to the edge. Then with a grunt and a hard snap of his hips forward, Jack felt Javier come. For a few seconds, he stilled, as Jack felt the cock inside him twitching through its release. Then, without warning, Javier began to pounding into Jack again.

The hand on his hip moved, reaching under to gently pump Jack's cock in time with Javier's thrusts. That was enough.

Like falling off a cliff, Jack came, spilling himself onto the dirt as his trembled in Javier's grip. Shockwaves of ecstasy rocked him as Javier continued to roll his hips, hitting that sweet spot, making Jack's knees buckle.

Jack would have been content to rest there against the wall of the bar, Javier's cock still buried in him, as he allowed the high of his orgasm to ebb away for a little longer. But just as his head began to clear of static, he felt Javier tense behind him, then quickly pull his softening length from Jack's now gaping hole.

"Fuck." Javier hissed. "Someone's coming."

"Dammit." Jack muttered, his words slurring together as he fought to pull his jeans up. 

Voices drifted through the cold night air and Jack watched warily as two men stumbled their way towards a truck, laughing heartily as a third more sober looking friend brought up the rear. Turning back to Javier, who was in the process of disposing of the condom, Jack smirked.

"We're good. You wanna head back inside, or are you up for a second round somewhere a little more private?"

"Fuck." Javier chuckled, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and after offering them to Jack, brought one to his lips and lit it. "Tempting. Very tempting, actually. But we have work to do."

"Ah, that dumb fuck'll still be asleep for a few hours yet." Jack waved a hand, but following as Javier started to make his way back round to the front door of the bar. "How about we wait till this place clears out some, then have round two in the men's room?"

Blowing out a puff of smoke, Javier stopped at the door, looking around thoughtfully. There were only a handful of patrons still in the bar now. As predicted, their mark was still sound asleep where they had left him. The fight was over, with the two young men now redressed and counting their winnings at a table in the corner. Leaning against the doorway, Javier turned back to Jack with a smirk.

"You wanna fuck me this time?"

/////

If you enjoy this please give it a reblog to share with other.

#agent whiskey #jack 'whiskey' daniels #javier peña #kingsman #kingsman: the golden circle #narcos #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[misspearly1]

Miss Pearls Kinktober 2022

This is my first Kinktober ya'll and let me tell ya, I am very excited. I'd like to give a very special thanks to Keri, (@absurdthirst - kinktober list), Lua (@starsandskies - kinktober list) and LeeAnn (@the-purity-pen - kinktober list) for providing these prompts. I really appreciate the work you put into creating these for us ❤️

Pre-Warnings (Please Read): There are three fandoms in this Kinktober. (Joel Miller/ Arthur Morgan/Pedro Pascal Characters). All are completed with Female readers (you, Y/N). And lastly, some fics are big with plot, others are small with very little plot. The first fic will be automatically posted tomorrow morning at 7am 🥰

Day One: Size Difference - Joel Miller

Day Two: Thigh Riding - Arthur Morgan

Day Three: Threesome - Joel Miller & Arthur Morgan

Day Four: Breast Worship/Nipple Play - Marcus Pike

Day Five: Window/Balcony Sex - Javier Pena

Day Six: Sleepy Sex - Frankie Morales

Day Seven: Anal - Pero Tovar

Day Eight: Cockwarming - Ezra

Day Nine: Anonymous Sex - Din D'jarin

Day Ten: Creampie - Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels

Day Eleven: Orgasm Denial/Edging - Joel Miller

Day Twelve: Face Sitting - Joel Miller

Day Thirteen: Spanking - Joel Miller

Day Fourteen: Rough Sex + Aftercare - Arthur Morgan

Day Fifteen: Monster Fucking - Max Phillips

Day Sixteen: Restraints - Marcus Pike

Day Seventeen: Rough Sex - Frankie Morales

Day Eighteen: Accidental Stimulation - Din D'jarin

Day Nineteen: Titty Fucking - Pero Tovar

Day Twenty: Double Penetration - Max Phillips

Day Twenty-One: Daddy/Mommy Kink - Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels

Day Twenty-Two: Lingerie - Joel Miller

Day Twenty-Three: Sex Pollen - Joel Miller

Day Twenty-Four: Sex Pollen - Arthur Morgan

Day Twenty-Five: Lactation/Breeding Kink - Arthur Morgan

Day Twenty-Six: Bath/Shower Sex - Din D'jarin

Day Twenty-Seven: Mirror Sex - Frankie Morales

Day Twenty-Eight: Hate Fucking - Pero Tovar

Day Twenty-Nine: Public Sex - Joel Miller

Day Thirty: Hunter/Prey - Werewolf!Joel Miller

#tppkinktober2021 #StarsAndSkiesKinktober #kinktober2022 #AbsurdThirstkinktober22 #Joel Miller #joel miller x f!reader #Arthur Morgan #arthur morgan x f!reader #pero tovar #pero tovar x f!reader #din djarin #din djarin x fem!reader #frankie morales #frankie morales x f!reader #max phillips #max phillips x f!reader #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x f!reader #jack 'whiskey' daniels #jack 'whiskey' daniels x f!reader #marcus pike #javier pena #marcus pike x f!reader #javier pena x f!reader #pearlyfics #enjoy reader #follow 👑 share ❤️ enjoy 🍑 #Miss Pearls Kinktober #kinktober 2022

[brandyllyn]

This Time

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x f!reader [no use of y/n. 3POV]

Sequel to Next Time - but I think it works as a stand alone

Words: 2.8k

My Masterlist

Rated: Teen. Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff.

Smoothing a hand down the front of his shirt, Jack frowned at his reflection in the Bronco’s side mirror. The material was a soft grey, short-sleeved with pearl snap buttons. It was one of his favorites, good for a casual day out, having a beer with friends - a utilitarian shirt.

His frown deepened.

Making an effort to look away, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, trying to make the lean against the truck as casual as possible. Wear the same thing as last time, she’d said.

It wasn’t that Jack didn’t like surprises, he enjoyed them as much as the next person. He just liked to be informed, that was all. How could he protect people, do his job, if he didn’t have full information?

“Hey Jack.”

Her soft voice startled him out of his musings and he jerked his head up to see her. His mouth froze on his greetings, the words garbling in his throat. 

Lord have mercy, she was wearing jeans. Jeans that looked like they had been painted on her, framing soft thighs and an ass he felt a sudden irresistible urge to bite. She had on a loose blouse with one of those camisoles with the thin straps underneath. 

And she was smiling. At him. 

The beauty of her knocked him on his ass and he completely missed his opportunity to meet her, to walk with her and open the car door like a gentleman. Instead he scrambled inside and flung himself across the bench seat, grabbing at the passenger door handle and giving her a sheepish smile as she slid inside.

“Lord, you’re pretty as a speckled pup.” She raised an eyebrow and he gave his head a sharp shake. “It’s a compliment.”

“Is it?”

Damn it to hell, how was he messing this up already? Again.

“It is,” he turned the key in the Bronco and set it to drive. 

When she had offered to plan their second date, the old school gentleman in Jack had balked. He’d been raised to believe it was a man’s  job to do the romancing. To plan the outings, pay for dinner, make the moves.

Then again, their first date had gone so poorly he hadn’t objected when she’d offered to plan their second. Only some of it had been his fault, in his defense. He couldn’t have done anything about the tornado. 

“Where to, darlin’?”

“Head into town, then north on New Circle Road”

They chit chatted on the drive into Lexington, a little over an hour with light traffic. Plenty of time for Jack to learn more about her. She wanted a pet, but worried her job at Statesman would interfere. Never been married, although she made passing mention of a proposal that perked his ears. She asked him questions about his hobbies, and then made appropriate follow-up noises of appreciation about the Bronco when he said it was refurbishing older vehicles.

“It’s very shiny,” she smiled and he choked back a laugh. Maybe he should have mentioned his ever so slight obsession with World War II documentaries instead.

She gave no clues to where they were going, nodding slightly when he got off the highway onto Route 4 but aside from that remaining mum. When they turned on to the city streets north of town Jack almost asked but held his tongue. Stadium signs rose to their right as she directed him into a half empty parking lot. Even as they approached the stadium, he didn’t ask the question that bubbled in him.  Not until she handed two construction paper tickets to an older lady and led him inside.

“Baseball?”

“The Lexington Legends,” she chirped back, slipping into the sparse crowd and looking back to see if he followed.

He did, his gait slipping into an easy saunter. Earlier, he’d have laid all his money they were going to a museum for the day. Maybe some kind of art gallery.

“Never figured you for a baseball fan.”

“I’m not really,” she shrugged, eyeing something over his shoulder as she came to a stop. “But this isn’t baseball. It’s minor league baseball.”

“Other than the obvious, what’s the difference?”

“Baseball is about the sport. It’s about winning and all that.” A soft aha noise left her and she grabbed his hand, slipping her fingers between his and dragging him to a vendor. “But minor league is about having fun. It’s a carnival with baseball as an excuse.”

Glancing up at the sign he smiled, “Funnel cake?”

“To start,” she answered with a decisive nod. “After that they have one of those things set up where you hit baseballs and win prizes.”

“A batting cage?” His interest was piqued.

“Yeah, that,” she said distractedly.

He didn’t have her attention. She was practically salivating as she gave her order, not just the cake but deep fried Coca Cola and a lemonade to go with it.

“Shouldn’t be possible to fry a liquid,” Jack mumbled, licking powdered sugar from his fingertips. “But damn if it ain’t good.”

She beamed back at him, reaching up and using her thumb to wipe at the corner of his mustache. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I do.” He managed not to shiver at her touch - barely. “But I have to admit it’s not what I expected.”

“Well,” she turned her back to him, leading him to a nearly empty set of bleachers. “One of the times you were asking me out you mentioned going to the state fair. If I remember right you tried to lure me with fried Oreos.”

“I did,” he nodded.

“And I know you play on the distillery’s softball team so I figured it wouldn’t be the most boring venue.”

Staring at the first baseman, Jack tapped the heel of his boot on the steel bleacher. “That was pretty astute of you.” Ducking her head she concentrated on their food and Jack eyed the field. “You rootin’ for anyone in particular?”

“Oh, no. Not at all. I don’t even know who the teams are.”

Shutting his eyes for a moment Jack rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Are you telling me, sugar, that you brought me to a baseball game solely for the food?”

“Well, I brought me solely for the food. But I thought you might like the game.”

“You are…” he searched for the word. Finally he settled on a huff of laughter, sliding the funnel cake from her hands and ignoring her protests. He leaned over and pressed his nose to her shoulder, “… somethin’ else.”

“Is that good?” She asked, one hand snaking over to his lap and the fried strings of dough. He picked one up instead, straightening and holding it out to her.

“Is to me.”

The Legends were playing a good game - relying a bit too much on a strong pitcher in Jack’s opinion, half the team couldn’t bat for shit - but he didn’t protest when his companion tugged on his arm in the third inning with a pleading look in her eye. 

“Pickles?”

A smile tugged the corner of his mouth. “Fried?”

 “Of course.”

“Lead the way.”

It was probably coincidence that the vendor was right next to the batting cage. And Jack couldn’t resist those pretty eyes when she bit her lip and glanced over at the stuffed animals hanging from the fence.

“Want me to win you one, sugar?”

“You think you can?” she asked with a tease on her voice.

He hummed an affirmative, rolling his shoulder under his shirt. It ached sometimes after the distillery league games, but it had been fine lately, certainly fine enough to knock out a couple homers and get the purple dog looking thing she was staring at.

“What do I get?”

She tapped her lip thoughtfully at the question. “Third date?”

“Deal,” he said quickly, pulling out a five and handing it to the guy without preamble. Her giggle followed him and he gave the bat a trial swing before setting his stance. 

Crack.

The first ball was a foul, sailing almost straight up and into the tarp. Jack jumped back to avoid being brained and grunted. He’d gotten used to the underhand throws of the softball league. He’d need to re-evaluate.

Whiff.

Fuck, he hadn’t even touched the second. He felt the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment and took a swing at the third. It felt solid as it connected, a low hit midway down the far tarp. A solid hit in a real game, but not enough to read as a home run in the cage.

He had another five in his hand before the ball stopped rolling “Again.”

Another foul.

And another.

A low drive to a non-existent third baseman.

“Again.”

“Jack,” her voice sounded too soft and he didn’t look at her.

Two hits and a miss, one that should have been a home run but the damn game clocked it as a triple and Jack gritted his teeth against the argument that rose in his throat.

“Jack, come here.”

Shoulders sagging he turned to the fence, taking a step to it and frowning. “Sugar I-“

“A kiss.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Win me the dragon and you get a kiss.”

He blinked again and darted his eyes to the purple stuffed animal. Is that what it was? A dragon?

Wait.

Wait.

A teasing smile pulled the corners of her lips up, a touch of powdered sugar still dusting the lower one. She’d be sweet, he knew that. And soft.

“Hell yeah,” he muttered, thumbing another bill at the kid running the cage. The prize wasn’t worth twenty bucks but that wasn’t the point.

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

Three home runs, a light and siren going off each time. 

She looked skeptical. “Did you batting cage shark me?”

“Did I what?” he spluttered, pointing at the largest version of the dragon for the worker.

“Batting cage shark, like a pool shark. Pretend to be bad so I’d offer you something?”

“Yes…?” he said slowly, drawling the word out and squinting slightly. It was a better explanation than anything he had. He handed the stuffed animal over, taking the nearly gone pile of fried food from her.

She frowned as she wrapped her arms around the ridiculously large toy. After a moment her face broke into a grin. “Liar.”

“I simply lacked proper motivation.”

Shifting the toy in her embrace she leaned towards him. “Are you going to collect?”

He traced his eyes over her face and settled a hand at the base of her spine. “Later.”

The spluttering sound she made at that warmed his heart.

“I’m assuming we don’t have dinner plans?” Jack asked as he held open the Bronco door for her. He took the dragon from her with one hand, patting her thigh slightly as she buckled in.

“Are you still hungry?” she responded incredulously.

Grinning, he leaned into the back of the truck, setting the plush down and pulling one of the lap belts across it. “Not a bit, I was just checking.” Dragon secured, he slipped into the front seat. “Where next?”

He didn’t expect it to be a bar, a dive bar at that. She was a fancy gal - she’d shown for their first date in a pencil skirt and heels for Christ’s sake. Then again, the last time he’d told her he was going to ‘Show her the town,’ so maybe that was just a miscommunication.

“You dance?” he asked after they got their drinks, leaning in a dark corner a little away from the speakers.

“A little,” she shrugged. “Never had much of a chance to learn.”

“Not interested?”

“Two left feet.” She laughed and he shifted closer. “It’s also a lot to keep track of. Counting, which direction to go…”

“You ever have a good partner?”

Without giving her a chance to answer, Jack swung her into an easy two-step, the live band doing a passable cover of an old George Strait song. She stumbled at first, but he kept a steady hand on her shoulder blade, giving the direction she needed to match his movements.

“Quick, quick, slow slow,” he muttered down to her helpfully and she glared back up at him.

Despite his teasing, she followed him like a dream, letting him guide her in a large circle around the floor. There was no looking behind her, no fighting him. With the gentlest pressure from him she turned slightly, keeping the rhythm and facing forward by his side, their interlinked arms ahead of them. 

“You’re a natural,” he smiled, guiding her into a turn so she was facing him again.

���You’re a good teacher,” she smiled back. He kept an eye on their drinks, making sure no one messed with them, but that only took about 5% of his concentration. The rest he could focus on the woman in his arms. She was settled into his embrace like they’d done this a hundred times before, his fingers spread behind one shoulder while he traced his thumb over her other hand. He knew the song was ending soon and he gave a silent prayer for another two-step.

Instead, a car engine revved and a twangy guitar intro followed. One any cowboy worth his salt would recognize, and he smiled. “Ever line danced?”

A shake of her head and his smile turned into a grin. “I’ll show you.”

It should have been easy, this one was a classic for a reason. A simple grapevine, a toe tap or two, some clapping and a booty shake.

She was hopeless at it.

“No that way,” he huffed, turning her waist with one hand. 

“One, one-two, one, one-two” he tried to help out as she double tapped and looked lost.

The third time she spun into him he gave up, pulling her close. “You weren’t kidding about those two left feet.”

“I told you-“

He shushed with her a turn, swinging her out of the way of the other dancers and back to their waiting drinks. “I thought that was modesty.”

She snorted, stirring her drink with a straw.

He did eventually manage to get her through the electric slide, but they did much better in the partner dances. Jack didn’t mind, any excuse to get his hands on her was welcome. 

It was raining by the time they left, rushing to the Bronco while Jack tried to hold his hat over her head. They were laughing when the doors shut and he did his best to ignore how the water made her blouse stick to her skin.

“Home then?”

A nod and he shifted into gear. He jumped in surprise when her hand slipped into his, drifting up to cradle his forearm when he needed it to change gears. He liked it, even though her fingers were cold, and once they got on the highway he entangled their fingers together and chatted about absolutely nothing.

She was sleepy by the time they got back to the compound, leaning back in her sleep and fighting to keep her eyes open. He shut the truck off, frowning when her hand slipped away after he was forced to let it go.

“I’ll walk you up.”

“You’re not going to claim that kiss?” she asked with a small frown and pout.

“Nah.” With one hand he swept his hat off, turning and settling it in the backseat. “I figure I’ll save it.”

“Save it for what?”

“Third date,” he informed her with a grin. “And my second chance.”

A soft smile came over her face and Jack couldn’t help but press his fingertips to her jaw, rubbing his thumb over the apple of her cheek. “But Lord you do make a man think twice about his convictions.”

“Oh do I?” A sly, sultry look replaced the shy one. “Maybe your convictions are in the wrong place.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, his thumb slipping down to trace her lips. “You’re enough to tempt a saint to sin.”

Her laughter warmed him, and his focus was so pinpointed on her smile that he missed that it was moving closer until it was almost a surprise when those smiling lips were pressed to his.

Lord he was right, she was sweet. And soft. Her mouth brushing over his with the barest of pressure. A groan escaped him, one hand clenching in the hair behind her neck. He wouldn’t push, he wouldn’t. But if she wanted to rub that body of hers against his and lick at the seam of his mouth who was he to deny her?

They were both panting when she broke away, and Jack’s jeans were fitting a bit tighter than normal.

“Next Saturday?”

“Tomorrow.” The word choked out of him and he winced. “Don’t make me wait a week to see you again, sugar.”

“Brunch?”

Yeah. Yeah he could do brunch.

“My place?”

In her house? Where her bed was?

Ain’t no way he would survive that.

“How bout we go out somewhere? You got any pretty Sunday dresses?”

The smile she gave him was dazzling, and a little mischievous. “I think I have something.”

Lord have mercy, what had he gotten himself into now?

For updates on stories please follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

Songs from the saloon: George Strait - I Just Wanna Dance With You Brooks and Dunn - Boot Scootin' Boogie

#jack 'whiskey' daniels #kingsman #kingsman fanfiction #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you

[radiowallet]

Radiowallet's Masterlist

Hello All! Welcome to my masterlist! My name is Cat. I am but a humble little nerd just pushing my silly stories out into the world. Please come in, have a look around, and leave a reblog or a comment if you find something you like. This is an 18+ blog, so please minors, turn around and I’ll see you on the flip side. All smut will be denoted with * at the end!

Please always feel free to jump into my inbox! I'm harmless and stupid, like an overactive hamster! I am here for laughs and fun and any kind of clowning about you’re up for!

If you prefer reading on AO3 you can find my account here.

To receive notifications of any new writing I post, please follow me at my writing library @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.

To learn more about my original writing, please follow me at @catepagewrites

Thank you for stopping by!

Sub-masterlists containing all writing related to the characters including multi-chapter fic, one-shots, drabbles, and extras.

Marcus Moreno

Din Djarin

Frankie Morales

Javi Gutierrez

Dieter Bravo

Ezra (Prospect)

Jack "Whiskey" Daniels

Dave York

Bucky Barnes

Oberyn Martell

Joel Miller

Shortcuts to my multi-chapter fics and series. These stories also have links on the above character masterlists.

Like a River* - Marcus Moreno x F!Reader x Frankie Morales (on-going series)

Radiant* - Thief!Marcus Moreno AU (on-going, loose fit series)

A Good Man* - Western!Marcus Moreno AU (on-going series)

Tied* - Doctor!Din Djarin AU (on-going, loose fit series)

You Weren't Mine to Lose - Din Djarin x F!Reader (ongoing series)

To New Friends - Javi G. x F!Reader (slow burn, ongoing series)

First Assignment - Bucky Barnes x F!Reader (on hiatus)

To Sleep - A Moonknight drabble series (ongoing)

Meant to Be* - Oberyn Martell x F!Reader (Complete)

Eyes Open* - Marcus Moreno x OFC (Complete)

Pretend Alleyways* - Marcus Moreno x Dieter Bravo (on going)

Miscellaneous Character Drabbles

In the Middle of the Night - Selina Kyle x Batman (2022 The Batman)

You Know You Love Me - Max Phillips x F!Reader

I'm Going to Ruin You - Pero Tovar x F!Reader

I Can't Get Enough of You - Javier Peña x F!Reader

Iced Tea and Pink Skies - Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Fic Collections

300 Follower Celebration Prompts

500 Follower Celebration Prompts

31 Days for Marcus Moreno

Cat’s Horny Canapés

Kinktober 2022

MoodBoards

Pedro Character Assigned FOB songs Parts 1 2 3

#marcus moreno #din djarin #frankie morales #javi gutierrez #dieter bravo #ezra prospect #bucky barnes #jack 'whiskey' daniels #Moonknight #The Batman #Joel Miller #Selina Kyle #pedro pascal characters

[magpie-to-the-morning]

Hello my love!

Saw you bringing that prompt list back around 👀

How “intimate” with our mutual favorite soft cowboy, Whiskey? Pretty pretty please and thank you??

Les!!! This was so fun to write and I make no apologies about how unbearably sweet and domestic it is 😘

You’ve barely sat down all day. There’s just been too much to do: putting clean sheets on the bed, wrestling the down comforter into the linen duvet, swiping what felt like a layer of grime from the windows, cleaning the floors, polishing the banister with orange oil until it gleamed, hell, you’d even made a pie. With Jack away on a mission, so many of the household chores you usually split had fallen further and further from your radar. You’d hate for him to come home and feel like he has to set things to rights - especially when you know he’ll have other things on his mind.

It’s why you left yourself plenty of time to shower and put on the dress he loves so much on you, the one that brushes the tops of your thighs and just barely edges out of tunic territory. You don’t dare where it in public anymore (“You try keepin’ your hands to yourself in the face of such temptation, darlin’.”) but with a meal pre-ordered from his favorite barbecue place and coke drinks in the fridge, you doubt there’s anywhere he’d rather be.

By the time you hear the creak of his truck’s door and the familiar jangle of his keys in the lock, excitement is fizzing in your veins. You bounce up and down on the balls of your feet in the hallway, forcing yourself to stand still by sheer force of will.

And then after weeks of waiting, between one blink and the next, Jack is there, a tired grin on his face as he steps through the doorway. 

“There she is.”

You’re already moving. You fling yourself into his arms before his bag has even hit the floor, running through the same silent inventory you do every time he returns from Statesman business. Two legs holding him up, two arms locking around you in a crushing embrace. No bandages in sight, no grunt of pain when you’d launched yourself at him. Closing your eyes you offer up a silent “thank you” to whoever might be listening that he’s returned in one piece. 

You wonder if Jack isn’t doing the same when his hug turns vice-like and he murmurs something you can’t quite catch into his hair before finally setting you down.

“How’s my girl?” His hands move to your hips, grounding you, holding you steady when your heart feels light enough to pull you right off the ground.

“Better now that you’re here. I missed you, Jack.” Your hands tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck, slightly longer than you’re used to but you like it, using the leverage to pull him into a deep, searching kiss.

“You have no idea, baby,” he mumbles against your lips. Jack shudders against you, his hands fisting the back of your dress and rucking the skirt dangerously high. His voice has a dull, hollow quality you’re not used to, one that makes you pause. But then his lips are moving against your forehead and you press yourself closer.

“Let me show you,” you croon. “Let me show you how much I missed you.” Taking one of his hands, you guide it slowly up your thigh. Jack’s mouth falls open when his searching fingers meet bare heat and he groans.

“Wait baby, let me look at you?”

“Wanna see you, too,” you gasp, already pushing his jacket from those broad shoulders you love and tugging at his shirt before dropping to your knees. “Fuck, Jack, I need you so bad.” 

Memories of homecomings past thrum hot and needy in your blood. The time Jack had only remembered to close the front door when he went to fuck you against it. The time you’d welcomed him home wearing nothing but wispy lace that never stood a chance against his eager hands and teeth. The time the two of you started having sex on the stairs before collapsing into giggles over both of you being “too old for this shit” and heading, hand in hand, to your king-sized bed. 

It’s only as you’re fumbling Jack’s belt buckle open that you realize this time feels… different.

Rocking back on your heels you look up at him. Jack’s smiling at you, his hand soft against your cheek and while his expression is loving, it’s not frenzied. 

“Is everything… okay?” Self-doubt creeps in quickly and before you can stop yourself you’re running through your preparations, worrying that there might be something you’ve missed.

Jack hauls you to your feet before you can overthink any further. “Everything’s okay,” he says firmly, though that strange distance is still in his voice. 

“Do you not want  - “

“Oh, I want plenty.” Humor lights the honied chestnut of his eyes and your thundering pulse eases at the sight. “But before all that, lemme just hold you, darlin’?” 

The questioning tone, the faint uncertainty nearly takes your legs out from under you. As if you’d ever deny him such a simple request. As if you’ve thought of anything these past weeks but wrapping yourself around him and never letting go.

You take him by the hand and lead him the few steps it takes to enter the living room. You’d been busy here, too: a small fire crackles in the wood burning stove and a few candles are already lit, filling the room with an amber glow. There’s a plaid woolen blanket laid over the artfully scuffed leather couch and the room smells of pine resin and home. 

“Come here.” 

Jack sinks into the corner of the sofa and tugs you into his lap in one smooth, practiced motion. He buries his face in your neck and breathes deeply once, twice, his arms back around your waist to hold you close.

A few minutes pass this way while you run your fingers through Jack’s hair, half murmuring, half humming, until he relaxes into your touch. 

When he finally lifts his head to kiss your temple, you cup his cheek and ask softly “Do you want to talk

about it?” He’s never been this quiet after a mission, this desperate to just… hold you. 

He pauses, considers, but shakes his head. “Maybe another time but not tonight.”

When he doesn’t add anything else you nod. “Okay.”

Jack nuzzles your cheek, his hands playing slowly over your body as you sit together. His arms tighten again when a burning log snaps and cracks in the wood stove but you go back to stroking his hair until he settles again.

“It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you.” 

“I know. Thought about this every night I was gone. Getting home. Seeing you.”

“I’ve been sleeping in one of your shirts,” you admit. It’s worth the slight embarrassment to feel the pleased rumble of Jack’s laughter against your chest.

“Is that so? What, did the laundry pile up that badly while I was away?”

You give a playful nip to his shoulder. “The chores ran like clockwork, I’ll have you know.”

“Uh-huh,” Jack drawls. “I’d believe you if there weren’t vacuum tracks in the carpet and a bottle of Windex left by the windows.”

You jerk your head towards the spot Jack is nodding towards, giving you away before you can stop yourself. 

“Busted, darlin’,” Jack grins. The shadows have retreated from his eyes and you decide that’s worth a little teasing. 

“Fiiiiine,” you sigh, rolling your eyes and sitting up. “Dinner should be here soon, by the way. And if you stop giving me a hard time about my cleaning habits there might even be pie for dessert.”

Ultimately, Whiskey decides to have his dessert before dinner, though the two of you don’t start in on the peach pie you’d baked until breakfast. 

#Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels x Reader #Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels x F!Reader #Jack Daniels x Reader #Jack Daniels x F!Reader #Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels #Jack Daniels x Fem!Reader #Prompts #Fic #My Fic #Drabbles #Homecoming

[elvenmother]

Shattered Masterpost

Pairing: Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels x F Reader Rating: Mature Warnings: Major character injury, injury recovery, mentions of alcoholism Chapters: 6 Word count: 15,277

Summary: Jack returns injured from a mission gone wrong, and you discover that Statesman Distillery is really a front for something more.

Chapter One - Taking The Tour - 1886 words Chapter Two - Seemingly Unscathed - 2216 words Chapter Three - Deafening Silence - 1948 words Chapter Four - Still Absent - 3597 words Chapter Five - Two Steps Forward, One Back - 2556 words Chapter Six - The Unfortunate End - 3074 words

Read Shattered on AO3

#Agent Whiskey #Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels #Agent Whiskey x Reader #Agent Whiskey x F!Reader #Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels x Reader #Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels x F!Reader #Kingsman: The Golden Circle #Kingsman #Fanfiction #Fanfic #Shattered

[babykangaemoji]

What Happens at Glasto, Sometimes, Doesn’t Stay at Glasto. { Agent Whiskey x f!reader}

Sooo, this is my first time writing for Whiskey!!! I just love him ok and had to write him some SMUT! It’s just porn with a little tiny bit of plot with a sweet ending, also wrote this whilst sleepy posting whilst sleepy, all mistakes are my own! 

WORD COUNT: 4.2k

RATING: 18+ NO MINORS!! This is explicit smut! 

SUMMARY: Whiskey goes looking for a way to kill time at Glasto, but you find him instead. 

No use of Y/N and no reader description other than a small mention of wearing a revealing outfit. 

WARNINGS: unprotected p in v sex (wrap your tools in real life please!!) m!oral receiving. f!oral receiving, fingering, praise!kink reader, dirty!talk, teasing, choking is u squint, grabbing. swearing, alcohol consumption, cumplay if u squint, one spank, groping. I think that’s it but let me know if I missed anyting!!! 

PART 2 | MASTERLIST

Whiskey had walked around the festival for a while after Eggsy took his shot, it was evening now, there was some band playing loud enough to be heard across the large fields and he needed a drink since he had finished off what was in his belt buckle. 

He walked back through VIP without a problem, standing back at the bar where he lost his conquest earlier, he waved the bartender over, asking for a whiskey on the rocks. He had half a mind to check in with Eggsy but just as he was about to, a sweet voice came from behind him. 

“Nice outfit, cowboy, very on brand for the festival” you said as you walked around to stand at his side, Jack raised his eyebrow, his lips turning up into a smirk. 

“Oh if only you knew, darlin” he drawled, holding his hand out to shake yours as his eyes raked over your form. You had on a rather revealing outfit that left little to the imagination but just enough to make him want to know more, along with your heavy combat boots that were covered in mud, you’d obviously been having fun. “My name's Jack, what’s your name?”

“Wow… even got the accent to go with it” you smiled up at him, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. Jack got the bartender's attention, telling him to get whatever drink “this pretty young thing wants”, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you heat up hearing him refer to you like that. 

“Now, tell me darlin, what’s a sweet thing like you doing out here all alone?” he asked, taking his glass of whiskey and leaning against the bar on his elbow so he could fully face you. 

“Oh I’m not alone, my friends are just over there” you said, waving your hand in the direction of a small group of girls and guys who were happily chatting away. One of them waved you back over, and you made a motion that looked as if you were running your hands along an invisible cowboy hat on your head. It caused her to whisper to your other friends, who looked over at you and Jack. 

Jack put his hand up slightly to wave hello, giving them a nod, very cowboy like you thought, before biting his lip at you and leaning over. 

“Okay, so what’s a pretty girl like you doin coming over here, talking to me?” he said, his southern drawl dropping an octave. Your face broke into a smile, as you took a small step forward, you reached for your drink that the bartender slid in your direction, your other hand reaching up to fiddle with the collar of his leather jacket as you got closer. 

“Girls gotta get a drink somehow” you teased before turning on your heel, Jack stood there, shocked for a second before throwing his whiskey back and following you as you walked off. He wasn’t mad at the idea you used him for a free drink (or view from behind) but fuck he didn’t want you to go so soon, you had teased him, intrigued him and he needed something to do whilst he waited for Eggsy, what better option than a cute girl?

“Now that’s just mean, you’d really break a cowboys heart?” You heard him say as he caught up with you. You rolled your eyes, turning around, stopping the man in his tracks. You were stood pretty much chest to chest, you were so much closer to him than anticipated, so close that you felt a little cold sting of his large belt buckle against your stomach, so close that you could smell his delicious scented cologne, it smelt faintly of oranges, musk and leather. 

“You, aren’t a cowboy. You just look like one and sound like one” you said, tilting your head. “Now if you were, a real cowboy that is, then that might be a different matter” you said, taking a drink from your plastic cup. 

Jack tilted his head down, looking at you over his sunglasses, he hooked his thumb into his belt, his thumb brushing your midriff, which you tried to ignore but Jack was trained to see people's emotions change and he definitely saw the shift in your body language. 

“Honey, I can assure you, I’m as real as they come” he said, his eyes were darker than you anticipated, only seeing them behind the yellow tint of his aviators. You bit your lip a little, he was hot, he was older, clearly but something about him seemed so different to any other guy who you hit on for a free drink. It made you shiver when he leaned down, right by your ear, whispering so only you could hear “Have you ever ridden home on a real cowboy, gorgeous? Could show you just how much of a cowboy I really am” 

And you were damned from that moment onwards, this man, stood tall, broad chested in front of you, a smirk playing  on his plush lips causing his perfectly groomed moustache to slant, you were weighing up your options. You could sleep with this guy, could be the best one night stand of your life or it could be really disappointing, either way, you didn’t have much to lose. You were at a Glasto after all, and what happens at Glasto, stays at Glasto. Whiskey could see the cogs turning behind your eyes, so he leaned down in one more attempt to seal the deal and whispered. 

“Whaddaya say, darlin? I’ll even let you wear my hat if you wanna” and you were a goner. You threw your drink back, throwing the cup in a nearby bin. You turned to your friends for a second before grabbing Whiskey’s hand, dragging him along behind you. He didn’t hesitate to follow you, he followed you right to your tent, he was expecting some sort of dingy, two person tent, Jack was a man who liked finer things but he would have got down in the mud for you right there and then. 

You threw the fabric back on the doorway to the tent, you ran some sort of zip around the outside, Jack took a step back and turned away from you for a second. He tapped the side of his glasses quickly. 

“Ginger, I’m clocking out for a while” he said, putting his hand on his belt. 

“Go ahead, Whiskey. Eggsy has implanted the tracker, you’re both free to roam” she said, he whipped back around, seeing you waiting for him, he removed his sunglasses, tucking them into his jacket pocket. 

“What was that?” you asked as he stalked back up to you, following you into the tent again, Jack heard another zipper as he made his way inside. 

“I was just checkin-” he was interrupted by you crashing your lips against his, Jack instantly repaid the favour, kissing you with just as much fever. You wrapped your arms around his neck, Jack’s larger hands moved to the small of your back to pull you closer as you slid your tongue over his. You moaned when you felt the cool metal of his belt buckle dig into your stomach, one of Jack’s hands moved down to cup your ass, earning another moan from you. 

You moved your hands down, to slip into his heavy jacket, pushing it off his shoulders, before he was shaking it off, throwing it behind him carelessly, he wanted his hands back on you as quickly as possible so didn’t have time to worry about where his jacket landed.  You were so soft, he wanted to feel every inch of you, taste every piece of you he would give to you, Jack groaned when he was shoved backwards, falling onto a plush bed behind him, he landed on his back, he sat up to see you instantly seating yourself in his lap.  

Your lips ran up his strong neck, teeth grazing across his jaw, and Jack let out a very shameful groan at your light touches. He was getting hard just from this, your hands shoved up his white tee, instantly running over his strong abdomen, Jack’s hands were back on you as your assaulted his neck and collarbones, he reached up to your top, delighted to find it was a tie only which he undid smoothly. You reached up, untying the bow around your neck, throwing the top to the side. 

Jack groaned at the sight of your breasts, his plush lips coming to connecting with one of your sensitive nipples, your fingers dug into his shoulders as he moved one hand to play with your other nipple, your moaned at the feeling, your hips involuntarily grinding down against his crotch. You could feel his length beneath you but it was far too concealed in those tight bloody jeans and that stupidly big belt buckle, so you started to leave hot kisses down his neck, across the fabric of his t-shirt, shoving it further up his body as you kissed down his stomach. Jack groaned softly as you kissed his bare tan skin. 

You started to fumble with the belt buckle, trying to keep the mood up by leaving kisses across his stomach, but you couldn’t get the damn thing off. You huffed, looking up at Jack, who was smirking at you. 

“Figure it out if you want it, darlin” he said, tipping his hat at you as if to tell you to carry on. You felt a hot rush of heat run down to your core, those words shouldn’t have been as hot as his southern accent made them sound. You noticed the logon on the small hip flask as you finally figured the damned thing out, but didn’t have time to think about that now as you undid his belt so quick you thought you could have ripped through it. You were unbuttoning his jeans quickly, Jack sat up further for a second to pull off his boots, relaxing back on his elbows once he did, you were now able to pull his jeans off him completely, once they were off, you settled back between his open legs leaving open mouthed kisses over his thighs. 

Jack groaned above you, “Don’t tease me sugar, can’t you see how hard I am for you already?” he lifted his hips for you as to show you exactly what he was talking about. 

“Oh but, it’s. So. Fun.” you puntucated every word with a little nip up his thighs, closer to where he wanted you but not close enough. That was when a hand came down to your jaw, grabbing you forcefully, you gasped, your eyes shot up to meet Jack’s, they were so much darker than they were earlier. 

“I said, do not tease me. Now be a good girl and suck my cock” he said, pushing his underwear down, you whined, you knew in that moment you were definitely not going to be in control here. Not that you minded in the slightest. Jack let go of your jaw to hold his length in front of you, you ran your tongue up the underside of it before wrapping your lips around the tip, Jack groaned, dropping his head back at the feeling of your warm mouth around his length. 

You swirled your tongue around him a few times before slowly working your way down his length, Jack’s hand moved away to grip into the sheets below him as you worked your way down, your hand now coming round to stroke what you couldn’t fit into your mouth. You didn’t hold back the noises, you were slurping this man down like he was the most delicious milkshake you’d ever drank and you wanted him to know it. Jack was moaning above you, his hips began to move with your mouth. You looked up at him for a second and fuck you could of cum from that sight alone, his strong features were highlighted by the flush in his skin, his neck looked positively delicious and you wanted to drag your teeth over the taught skin. 

Right now though, you had a part of him in your mouth that you couldn’t get enough of, so you turned your attention back to his heavy length between your lips. Jack then brought his head back up and the eye-contact was so intense that you whined around him, his hand came down on the back of your head, encouraging you to take more of his length into your mouth. 

“That’s it… good girl” he moaned, a breathy ‘fuck’ coming after as you made your way to the bease of his cock, Jack’s hand held you there for as long as you could manage. You felt tears starting to roll down your cheeks slowly as you pulled back off, gasping, you quickly started stroking his length as you ran your tongue over him before taking him back down your throat. 

“Fuck! You take it so well, sugar, look at you” Jack’s hips thrusted causing you to gag on him, pulling off again, he had you gasping for air. You could feel your arousal pooling at your stomach, you shuffled your thighs closer together, desperately seeking some sort of friction. 

“Jack.. please” you whined, still stroking his length. He knew exactly what you needed, he pulled you back up his body by your wrist, flipping you both over, so you were laid flat on your back against the bed. Jack was quickly working at your shorts you were wearing, tugging them down along with the underwear you had on. He tugged off your boots so he could get you fully strung out on the bed for him, he reached down to pull his own shirt off, knocking off his Stetson in the process. It fell onto the floor behind him somewhere, but before you could say anything, this man had his hands on the back of your thighs, spreading you open for him. 

You threw your head back into the cushions as he licked a long stripe up your folds, Jack wasted no time in latching around your clit, moving his tongue in quick circles around the bud, sucking every now and again. He was watching you the entire time, loving the way your back arched off the bed, your hands gripping onto the sheets and your lips parted as you moaned for him over and over again. 

Jack dropped his hand from your right thigh, he ran his fingers through your folds before slowly sinking his ring and middle finger into your waiting hole. When he curled his fingers up into that spot, your hand flew straight down to grab onto his hat but you didn’t find it.  

“Jack… Jack fuck, please, please..” you were moaning, he kept his fingers curling inside you at a stead pace, only pulling away from your clit slightly to ask. 

“What is it, gorgeous? Tell me what you need” 

“Please put your hat back on” you whined, bucking your hips into his fingers. The growl Whiskey let out was feral and he was reaching behind him, without removing his fingers from your sopping entrance, grabbing his hat, putting it firmly on his head before diving straight back into your aching cunt. Your hand instantly flew to the highest point, his hat was soft, like suede, it weirdly made this whole situation even hotter than it already was. 

You started moving your hips in time with Jack’s movements as you felt yourself get closer and closer to the edge, you were gripping his hat as you moaned for him, using it as leverage to ride his face, when he curled his fingers a couple more times, it threw you over the edge. 

“Jack! I’m cumming oh, fuck!” You cried out, your grip on his hat holding him exactly where he was, he moaned against you as you rode his face through your orgasm. He worked you through every last second of your high, before slowly kissing his way back up over your thighs, stomach and between your breasts, all whilst his fingers still slowly curled inside you.

“God, you ever tasted how sweet you are, pretty girl?” he asked, kissing across your collarbone. He curled his fingers harder when you didn’t answer. 

“No- fuck” you gasped at the overstimulation. 

“Be a good girl, and clean me up then” he groaned, pulling his fingers out of your heat, instantly shoving them where he was a few minutes ago. You gladly welcomed them, sucking them clean as quick as you could, you moaned at the taste of yourself on his skin. “That’s it sugar, you ready for this?” he asked, rolling his hips down to yours, you groaned when you felt his cock slip through your folds. 

Jack removed his fingers from your mouth, to quickly ask if you were clean and on protection, when you nodded, he grabbed you by your neck pulling you on top of him as moved to sit on the bed. He lifted you up, holding his cock steady before he slammed you down onto his length, your hands shot onto his shoulders, you both gasped at the quick intrusion. “Ride me, pretty girl, ride your cowboy” he said, gritting his teeth. His hands were on your ass, groping you and spreading your cheeks, encouraging you to move. 

You instantly started rolling your hips down, grinding against his length, Whiskey let out a low groan. You started to pick up the pace, when you started bouncing on his lap, he lurched forward biting at your neck, whispering praises to you, you felt the rim of his hat bump against you, giving you an idea. You reached up, plucking the hat right off his head, giving it a new home on yours. Jack’s eyes flickered up when he felt his hat being taken away about to protest but he groaned low in his throat when you shoved him back so he was flat against the bed. He took in the view above him, you grinding on his cock, one arm raised above your head, holding onto his Stenson, the other braced on his thigh behind you. It put you on full display for him and you fucking loved it. 

“Fuck, look at you sugar, so fucking beautiful” he groaned, you were moaning for him, as his cock rubbed against your spot over and over. He fit so perfectly inside you, his cock hitting everywhere it needed to, causing waves of pleasure to wash over your body, you knew you could cum like this, you just needed a little more. You sucked your fingers back into your mouth again, keeping a hand on his hat, you reached down, rubbing your clit in precise circles. Jack’s hands were on your hips, helping you rock back and forth on him, pulling and pushing you a little faster as he saw you touch yourself. 

“God, fucking hell darlin! You gonna come on your cowboy huh?” he snarled, something inside him was set alight watching you take your pleasure from him like this. 

“Yes, fuck you’re gonna me me cum again, cowboy” you moaned, rocking against him incesnstnalty. 

“Cum pretty girl, wanna feel your wet cunt cum around my cock” Jack said, one hand moving to give your ass a firm slap. That was all you needed to be thrown  into your second climax, your head thrown back, make-up smudged from earlier on, you were flushed, and you were crying out for the man below you as you rode him through your high. It was so intense that you felt as if it wracked your entire body, your thighs were starting to shake as you came down from your high. Jack was bucking up against you, the hand on your clit coming to land on his chest to steady yourself as you came back to him. 

You were still slowly rocking against him when you leaned down onto your forearms, to pressing your lips to his once again, this time it was messy and sloppy, but you were so drunk on this man's cock all you cared about was having his lips against yours. 

“Where do you wanna cum?” you asked Jack, kissing down his jaw, your words were slurred but not from the alcohol you had consumed but from the two orgasms that hit you like a train. 

“Ugh, I wanna come on your tits, gorgeous girl” he said lowly, you hummed at him, kissing across his chest again. You gave him a couple of soft bounces of your hips before sliding off his cock, you moaned at the loss of contact but you were quickly back down on your knees, taking everything Jack had to give back into your mouth. You were eagerly bobbing your head, stroking what you couldn’t manage. 

Jack was up on his elbows again, needing to watch you as you took his cock between your lips once more, he let out a loud groan at the sight, you had on his hat, sucking on his cock like your life depended on it, he thought why he hadn’t had someone suck him off with his hat on before because this was on par with being just as hot as you on top of him. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum” he said it barely came out before you pulled off him, sitting further up on your kneels so he could spill over your chest. Jack moaned your name lowly as he emptied himself across your chest and hand, you moaned at the feeling of his cum hitting your skin. You stroked him until you were sure he had given you every last drop. You caught his dark brown eyes as you reached your hand up to your mouth, slowly licking it clean and moaning at the salty taste of him. 

“Goddamn it darlin, you’re gonna kill me” he laughed as he laid back on the bed, trying to catch his breath. You giggled, crawling back up the bed, removing his hat and putting it on his chest, you flopped down on your back next to him. Jack turned his head to you, your eyes were closed as your chest rapidly rising and falling, he couldn’t help himself when he rolled onto his side, putting his hat on the nightstand next to you, he pressing a couple of soft and sweet kisses to your lips. You hummed in appreciation against his lips, Jack pressed a kiss to your forehead before slowly slipping off the bed, he found a towel, dampened it in the bathroom before coming back to you. You were still laid bare, with your eyes closed, your arm stretched above your head, he leant down, wiping the warm towel across your chest, leaving small kisses in his wake. 

Jack pressed another gentle kiss to your forehead, before running his fingers over your hair. 

“I have to go, gorgeous” he whispered, your eyes opened to look at him. You sat up a little, reaching forward to gently touch his cheek, you pressed your lips to his once more, before nodding. You didn’t want him to go so soon, but this was only a one night stand, so you didn’t really expect anything less. 

Jack slowly got dressed again, taking his time, he helped you put on some loose sleep clothes as well, he even got a bottle of water out of the mini fridge for you, pulled the bed covers back for you and pulled them back over to make sure you were tucked in. He hadn’t put his belt back on yet and he went to buckle it back up, he slid the mini flask off. He left his belt open, walking over to you, he put the small flask in your hand, holding his hand in his other.

“If you ever wanna do this again, call this number and ask for Whiskey, okay beautiful?” he said. You ran your thumb over the embossed writing on the front. Jack put his hat back on, giving you one final kiss goodbye. As he was walking towards the exit of your tipi, you called him back. 

“Wait!” you said, shooting up in bed. Jack turned on his heel to look at you “What’s your last name?” 

“Daniels” he said, hooking his thumb into his belt. 

“You’re fucking with me” 

“Already done that darlin” his eyebrow quirked and his lips curled into a smirk “fraid not,  Jack, Agent Whiskey, Daniels at your service” he tipped his hat towards you. “Anytime you want” he said, flashing his perfect teeth at you. You looked down at the belt buckle in your hands, you realised right there, that there was a lot more to this man than you knew.

“Thanks for having me sweetheart, you were a real treasure. Hope to hear from you soon” Jack drawled as he turned back round to the tent exit. 

“Wait, agent?” you called after him. 

“Told you I was a real cowboy!” He called back, walking backwards out of the door. “Night sugar, sweet dreams!”

You sat back in the bed, looking at the inscribings on the mini flask. Statesmen distillery. You’d have to google that when you got reception again. 

--------

Tags: @lovesbiggerthanpride

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#agent whiskey #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal characters #agent whiske x reader #agent whiskey x f!reader #agent whiskey fluff #angent whiskey smut #Jack 'whiskey' daniels #Pedro pascal smut #Pedro Pascal x reader #Pedro Pascal x f!reader

[ghostofaboy]

Pushing

Summary: Jack and Javier try something new as they continue to push each other boundaries.

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels/Javier Peña Rating: Explicit. Serious over 18s only | Word Count: 1551

Warnings: Anal beads, mentions of deep throating, mentions of spanking, mentions of lingerie, mentions of sounding, anal gaping, Jack being a brat

Note: This as not been beta read so I apologize for any mistakes. This is a fic with gay/bi characters. Please make sure you’ve read the warnings.

“I hate you.”

Jack chuckled, the sounds rumbling low in his chest. “No you don’t, you fuckin’ liar.”

Javier scowled, pushing Jack’s knees up closer to his shoulder to expose his asshole. Locking eyes with Jack, Javier slowly smirked. 

“You talk too fucking much, Jack.” Javier ran his tongue slowly over his lips as he took in the view. “You’re a fucking brat.”

“So what’cha gonna do, huh?” Jack grabbed his knees, pulling them back to simultaneously spread his ass open more and lift his head up to look at Javier. “What exactly are y-”

Jack’s words were cut short as Javier started to push the first bead into his waiting hole. It wasn’t that big, around the size of the tip of a thumb, but Jack couldn’t stop himself moaning as it entered him. Javier laughed softly, rubbing the lube on the next bead, slightly larger in size before easing that in too.

“You were saying?” Javier hummed, watching Jack’s cock twitch. The thick shaft moving of its own accord with the first pearls of precum forming on the tip. Leaning forward keeping his eyes locked with Jack’s, Javier gently licked the droplets away, pulling another moan from the other man.

“Fuck.” Jack let his head drop back down onto the pillow, while still holding his knees close to his shoulders.

“Yup.” Javier laughed, easing the next bead in, marvelling as Jack’s hole briefly opened before swallowing the small ball.

One by one, Javier fed five more beads into Jack’s twitching entrance. Starting from the size of a fingertip to the size of a golf ball by the time the fifth bead stretched Jack’s hole. Jack was panting, groaning and swearing as his arousal took over. Javier loved seeing Jack like this.

Since the night they’d met in a dive bar and hurriedly fuck round the back, they had been pushing each other boundaries. Trying new things, new kinks, just to see how much the other could take.

Once Jack had choked Javier on his cock, laying the DEA agent flat on a bed with his head hanging off the edge. Bit by bit, Javier had taken Jack’s cock until Jack was able to throat fuck him. Javier had come just from the obscene wet strangled sounds coming from his own throat before Jack had painted his face in his release. 

Another time, Jack had surprised Javier by turning up to his office, wearing lacy lingerie. The tiny baby blue panties had stayed on while Javier spanked Jack over his knee. Jack has spilled himself untouched on his hands and knees with Javier’s fingers buried in his ass, still wearing his beautiful suspenders and stockings. 

The last time they had met up, in a sleek Manhattan hotel Jack had insisted on, Javier had allowed the other man to do something Javier had always wanted to try. Javier had ended up having the most intense orgasm of his life after letting Jack sound him. Watching Jack carefully and gently insert a slim metal rod into his urethral, Javier knew that the two of them had something special. But what that was called and whether or not it could be sustained, Javier didn’t know. There seemed to be only one rule when it came to their meet ups - no shop talk.

Two more beads stretched Jack’s hole as precum dribbled out of his cock, making a small stream from his stomach down his side. Javier paused, slowly pulling the latest bead back out slightly until it sat just in Jack’s entrance. The opening yawned around the silicone ball and Javier’s cock twitched at the obscene sight.

“You got two more left.” Javier looked down at the last two beads of the chain, the final one around the size of a billiard ball. “You still good, Jack?”

“What’s it look like?” Jack lifted his head slightly, looking down towards his ass. “My-my ass? It lookin’ good?” 

“Better than good, baby. Hot.” Javier laughed, giving Jack’s balls a playful tug. “Love seeing your ass stretched like this. Fucking dirty.”

Jack laughed, dropping his head again. “Fuck, then do it. Ruin my hole, Javi.”

A growl rumbled out of Javier, surprising even himself, as he tenderly eased the next bead into his lover’s expectant entrance. Jack gasped and whined as his thighs trembled. Arching his back as the black bead breached the ring of muscle, pulling it wide as it swallowed the bead. Javier paused, stroking his own cock as Jack adjusted to the bead joining its friends deep inside him, watching as the other man let out shaky breaths.

“Fuck.” Jack choked out, his cheeks flushed as he released his grip on his knees to let them drop down. “Gonna… gonna come.”

“There’s just one more.” Javier purred, leaning over Jack, still stroking his cock. “You can take it. I want to see you take it, Jack.”

“I don’t… fuck… I don’t think I’ll make it.” Jack rasped. 

“You want me to start pulling them out?” Javi gently rubbed along Jack’s quivering legs. 

Blinking away the heady intoxication, Jack thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No. Last one. I’m gonna spill, but I want it in.”

“Sure?”

“Yup.” Jack panted, opening his legs as much as he was able. “Get it past the rim. Stretch me.”

With a rush of desire, Javier climbed up Jack’s body until his lips found his lover’s. Pushing his tongue deep, Javier sloppily kissed Jack, feeling their cocks delicately nudging against each other. Moaning into Javier’s mouth, Jack’s hips instinctively jerked upwards, seeking out the friction, only for him to drop back with a needy whimper. 

Pulling away and resuming his position between Jack’s legs, Javier began to apply the lube to the final bead. It hung down, grazing the bedsheets, tethered to the others by the cord as though eager to join them. Rolling it in his hands, Javi marveled at the size of it, his cock leaking at the thought of it holding Jack’s hole open for him. 

Then slowly, tenderly, Javi began to ease the final bead, listening as Jack swore and huffed as it stretched his entrance open wide. As it breached, Javi felt resistance and realized it was most likely the other beads blocked the path. The result was exactly what Jack had asked for, with the bead holding his asshole open, stretching the skin taut around the black silicone.

And just as he’d said, Jack came. With a shudder and a loud, throaty moan, Jack arched his back as thick ropes began to spurt from his twitching cock. Immediately, Javi reached for him, stroking Jack’s cock through his climax, pumping his own length as he milked Jack.

Jack trembled, shooting sticky blobs over his stomach as he loudly cried Javier’s name. Javier could feel his own peak fast approaching and, letting go of Jack, moved to straddle Jack’s hips, aiming his cock towards his lover’s chest and face. Looking up at him with dazed eyes, Jack grinned, watching Javier’s hand as it began to frantically pump his burning hot length.

“Come on Javi.” Jack cooed, reaching out with a shaking hand to pinch one Javier’s nipples, pulling a growl from him. “Come on me. You look so fuckin’ gorgeous. I want your come all over me.”

Baring his teeth, Javier involuntarily twitched his hip forward as his vision went white. Time slowed as waves of pleasure washed over him, his muscles tensing, and his hand faltered as Javier’s release exploded out of him. Letting out a guttural groaning cry, Javier painted Jack’s chest and chin with his seed, prompting Jack to stick is tongue out in a vain attempt to catch some of the salty come. 

Finally, his strokes became too much as his orgasm abated and Javier slumped backwards, sitting between Jack’s legs once more, gazing into his gaping bead filled ass. Jack lay boneless on the bed, drenched in sweat, his hair plastered to his head. Javier had to smile at the massive grin on Jack’s lips, clearly still reeling from his intense climax.

“Wait there.” Javier croaked out, climbing off the bed on shaking legs and grabbing his phone from his jacket on the floor.

“Fuck. Are you serious? I need you to pull them out now.” Jack whined. “Javi, please? It’s too much. They’re still rubbin’ my-”

“I know.” Javier shushed Jack, lifting the phone up and opening the camera. “I want photos first. This is too fucking good. You look fucking obscene and I want to remember.”

“Nooo.” Jack scowled, sticking his bottom lip out and giving Javier his biggest pleading eyes. “Please?”

“Keep still.” Javier commanded, his flaccid dick feeling a jolt of electricity as Jack immediately obeyed. “Photos first. Then I’ll pull them out. Be a good boy, you know how to do that, don't you.”

As Javier clicked away, filling his photo is shot after shot of Jack, the come and his yawning hole, Jack continued to pout but remained still. Finally, satisfied that he had enough photos, Javier switch his camera to video mode, kneeling between Jack’s quivering thighs and propping the phone up for the best view.

“All right cowboy.” Javier hit record before taking hold of the handle at the end of the bead chain. “You ready for part two?”

#agent whiskey #jack 'whiskey' daniels #javier peña #kingman #kingsman: the golden circle #narcos #pedro pascal character fiction

[misspearly1]

Day Ten: Creampie - Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels

Kinktober22 List

WC: 2.5K Warnings: 18+ Content. Minors DNI. Jealousy from reader & Jack finding it hot. Soft Dom!Jack. Smut. Unprotected PIV. Creampie. Fluff. AN: Ok, for the longest time I was worried that writing for Jack would make me want more, and it has. I was correct to think that haha. I really enjoyed writing for think sexy southern man (it's the accents, it has to be lmao) and I can see myself writing more for him in future. Hope ya'll enjoy, my loves <3

-

Working as the assistant of a very important figure in the New York Statesman building isn’t all as glitz and glam as it sounds. 

You were chosen - amongst so many other, more suitable, candidates - to be Jack Daniels assistant. Apparently something about you in particular was so special that he just had to have you be his personal run-around; answering his calls, taking messages or patching them through, collecting his mail, organising his weekly schedule, grabbing his lunch or his coffee every hour of the damn day. 

Whatever it be that makes you excel in your job role more than others, all you really saw yourself as was Agent Whiskey's errand girl. That was until one day four months ago when the man showed what you really mean to him - which was more than you assumed at first. Jack saw you the very first day you arrived for your interview. You stood out from the crowd like a sore thumb, sitting amongst men and women who looked like they were fresh out of the modelling industry, while you looked a little nerdy. 

You wouldn’t say that you look nerdy, but just comparing your style to theirs, you were seriously lacking the sexy look, and during your interview - which wasn’t even hosted by Jack - they took one look over your resume and gave you the job on the spot. No questions asked, just stated the monthly salary, and it’s a lot, gave you a time and date to start then sent you on your merry little way. 

At the time, it felt like you were making a deal with the devil, as if there was a catch somewhere hidden in the contract, however after showing up to your first day of work and running around all day after Agent Whiskey, doing each and every normal errand that he could ask from an assistant, you quickly started to think you had struck gold instead. 

Then, as more and more time passed working alongside Whiskey and not under him, you grew a bond, a connection to him that felt odd at first but became something beautiful. He’s always been a gentleman, right from the beginning, which you appreciate a whole hell of a lot considering the horror stories you’ve heard from friends about their bosses being disgusting sleazeballs. 

So you therefore suppose that’s where your attraction to Jack began to blossom, just having the bare minimum of respect that you deserve. But it wasn’t just the bare minimum either, it was more. Jack included you wherever he could, asked for your help and opinions, though he kept you out of the physical side of his line of work, you spent a lot of time in his office, helping him crack cases - which wasn’t really a part of your job, but you enjoyed nonetheless. 

Jack gave you days off whenever something came up, drove you home or picked you up whenever you had car trouble, offered you to join him during lunch, or asked to join you, continuously praised your work efforts and still does, brought you along to work meetings, big social events or fancy dinners with the cities officials. You didn’t just get a job in the New York's Statesman tower, you joined the Statesman - joined the family. 

And for one whole week, when a woman arrived at the office, you felt like you were just Jack's run-around because of jealousy. You instantly became aware of your attraction for your boss during that week because you were jealous of the woman who was stealing his attention from you. Her presence made your work boring and what it should be in the first place, because Jack was too busy with her, instead of you. 

Unfortunately, the jealousy bubbled up the surface and your thoughts spiralled, tricking yourself into believing you were just Jack's little errand girl all along, that he was just sweet talking you enough to not see that you were his slave that does everything he asks - but that wasn’t true, none of it was. That woman that was ‘stealing’ all of his attention was named Ginger Ale. 

She flew in from another branch in a different state, bringing with her, a new shipment of upgraded tech and the reason she stayed for the whole week is because she has family here. And besides, Jack and Ginger Ale have worked with each other many times in the past, however he hadn’t worked with her since you joined, therefore you didn’t know about her. 

But it’s besides the point, your jealousy blinded you from seeing reality, blinded you from seeing the way Jack tried to include you on numerous occasions but you ignored them all through your stubbornness. You fucked up royally and even contemplated looking for a new job, over thinking the whole situation once again as you though Jack would hate you for your sudden change of attitude. 

However, you once again, could never have been more wrong. After thinking calmly and not with your insecurities, you took the right approach and talked to Jack, apologizing for your actions, explaining where they come from and why, then told him that however he likes to deal with it, you would understand. 

Jack dealt with it by bending you over his desk and fucking some sense into you all night long until sunrise. Then, like the gentleman he always was, he bought you a clean set of clothes and breakfast, then shared a long three hour chat detailing how he has always had a crush on you, that he understood why you reacted the way you did and he is absolutely not mad about it either. In fact, he even went as far as sharing that it was hot and turned him on like crazy. 

Though you blushed red like a tomato for a good chunk of that morning, feeling embarrassed for getting jealous in the first place, the man went above and beyond to banish you shame forever. He asked you there and then if you’d like to skip past all of the fuss around dating and just be his lady. And at that point, after spending half a year working alongside him, you pretty much already were his lady, therefore your answer was an immediate yes. 

This conversation with Jack took place four months ago now, and you’ve never felt more emotionally secure. Still working alongside him, more like his partner rather than his assistant, you’re a team now. And at the end every working day, he calls you into his office for your ‘reward’ for all of your hard work before heading home together. 

Even right now, as the clock nears the end of your shift, you can feel his gaze on you from his office. Though you don’t look up at him, you can just see in the corner of your eyes how he’s waiting to call you into his office. Your legs squeeze together at the thought, lips roll together to hide your blushing smile and your sex pulses with anticipation for your reward. 

“Babygirl.” Jack calls and your whole body shivers. His voice was dark and sickly sweet, making you yearn to hear him whisper all the loving phrases you adore directly into your ear. Turning your head to meet his wanton gaze, you smile upon seeing him leaning against his desk, legs spread slightly with one hand held over his thigh. “Yes?” You answer, pretending like you don’t already know what he wants. 

The man simply smirks in return. Although there was a softness to his expression, make no mistake, the feral look in his eyes speaks to you. Lifting his hand and beckoning you with a finger, you nod to him and pile up your paperwork on the desk before wheeling your chair backwards. 

Fixing your skirt as you walk towards him, you prepared ahead of time today and didn’t bother wearing any panties. Just to receive your reward easier. Now standing before him and between his legs, Jack reaches out and pulls you in by your hips, asking. “Busy day today, huh sugar?” 

“Yes. It was indeed.” You sigh breathily. Resting both your hands to his chest, you toy with his suspenders, skimming your fingers up and down the fine black leather. Smirking upon remembering how he used them last week to spank your ass, it caught Jack's attention and he asked what you’re thinking about. “Oh, just about how much you love me.” You shrug, happily. 

Upon feeling his warmth sighing breath bellow across your face, you lift your head and gaze into his deep brown eyes. The corner of his bearded lip turns upwards with a smile, looking down at you through half lidded eyes, Jack nods once. “I love you a lot.” He whispers, then shoots you a wink as you continue to play with the suspenders. He, too, was thinking about how he used them last week right here in this very office. “Ready for your reward, sugar?” 

“I thought you’d never ask.” Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you try to hold onto some dignity, but your giddy smile betrays you. Jack chuckles softly, then lifts his hand to hold your chin with his thumb and forefinger, gently pulling you in to close the gap. Full, natural pouty lips sealing over your with a light peck at first, you tilt your head to the side and part your lips, inviting him to deepen it, which he does. 

“Oh, babygirl.” He sighs into your mouth before slipping his tongue inside, swirling it around with your own. You whine from the sensation and your eyes close instantly, relishing the way he kisses you so passionately. Dragging your hands up his cotton shirt, your fingers slip underneath his jacket as you caress his shoulders with a massaging squeeze, the action drawing out a groan from him. Music to your ears. 

Dropping his hands to your ass, Jack begins bunching up the fabric of your skirt and grunts with surprise when he feels your bare sex against the pad of his fingers. You feel him smiling against your lips, delighted that you wore no panties today. After grabbing a satisfying amount of handfuls of your ass, he breaks for the kiss and looks down to his belt buckle with one raised brow. 

“Hm, allow me.” Humming, you take his silent request and lower your hands to untie his belt as he continues to grope your ass, his fingers slipping between your legs and touching your most sensitive area. It was distracting, causing your actions to be halted for a moment as he rubbed your clit. You sigh frustratedly, bucking against his hand while trying to open his pants. 

“So needy.” Jack teases in a whisper, smiling from the pleasurable distractions he was inflicting. After unlocking the flask shaped buckle, the Statesmen’s logo imprinted on the metal, you then move onto the zip of his jeans and pull it down, watching as his bulge pushes through the opening. “I am indeed.” You retort playfully, then palm his cock over the fabric of his boxers, your chest swelling with pride upon hearing his choked grunt. 

A few moments later, it became apparent that Jack was now the one feeling so needy as he swiftly turned you around, the action making you gasp out a giggle, excited for what’s to come. He pulls you into his lap, then lines himself up at your entrance and pushes only the tip inside. “Sit on it, sugar.” He asks, not so patiently. 

Leaning your head back to his shoulder, you lift your arm and wrap your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss before sinking down on his cock ever so slowly. The stretch was intense, always, but you adjust very quickly and rotate your hips. “Jack…” You gasp into his mouth from the fullness of him buried deep inside of you. “I know, darlin’.” Is all he says in return, almost with a smug tone, as if he knew how good it feels for you. 

Moving his lips in sync with yours, Jack holds onto your hips like they were his own personal love handles, his fingers carefully digging into the flesh to move you back and forth off his cock. “Holy fuck.” You whine, breathing heavy ragged breaths into his mouth from his movements. 

Already clenching around him, your tightness draws out another choked grunt from his throat. Jack can be very vocal when he wants to be, but sometimes he holds back and just simply focuses on all of the pretty noises you make for him. “I w-want…” You stutter, tilting your face away from him to look down at your body. 

“Use your words, baby. Go on, tell me.” Jack whispers. Burying his chin into your neck, he, too, looks down at your body and feels you fighting against his grip on your sides. You take over. Squeezing your thighs together, you take control from him and start thrusting back and forth. “Oh, there you go, darlin’.” Jack praises directly into your ear, gritting his teeth from your quick, hurried movements. “There you fucking go, Y/N. Don’t stop.” He growls. 

Crying that you're close to him, Jack drags his hand down your stomach and slips his finger between your folds, locating your clit quickly. Your hand lands atop of his, holding him tightly as you toss your head back, mewling from the added stimulation. When he feels your legs shaking against his, he holds his free arm across your breasts, pinning you close to him as he bucks forward. “Jack!” You sob with the stars erupting behind your eyes. 

“Let it all out, sugar.” He groans into your neck, grinding into you with his own climax reaching its peak. Jack keeps his cock buried to the hilt, painting your pulsing velvety walls with ropes of his creamy white seed. “Fuck! That’s it.” Grunting with each last few rolls of his hips, he spills every last drop and places his lips to your ear, whispering shakily. “That’s it, Y/N. Take it all, baby.” 

Whimpering and writhing against him, he was still rubbing nameless shapes on your clit, overstimulating you and prolonging your high. It felt too good and quickly became too much. “H-honey.” You manage to blurt, shaking your head as you pull his hand away from your cunt. Resting now, you sit in his lap and steady your breathing. 

Jack wraps his arms around your front, kissing your neck softly to bring you back down from your high. “Did so well, sugar.” He praises, smiling against the skin between your neck and jawline "gotta keep it inside though, otherwise I'll have to full you up again."

"You say that like it's a bad thing, hon." You laugh softly, then let out the weakest whimper as you lift your hips, feeling his warmth escaping you. "Oops."

Tilting your face again to meet his gaze, you shudder under his smirking smile, giggle lightly at the sight of his dark, dreamy eyes, filled with fire and lust. "Oh, I see. You want more." He says while ever so carefully grinding his hips, making an absolute mess of your cunt as his cum oozes out of your entrances. "I'll give you more, sugar but first, what do you say, hm?" He groans a question.

 “Thank you -" You release a heavy sigh, a sound mixed with amusement and exhaustion that satisfies Jack. "- thank you for my reward, baby."

-

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Kinktober Tag: @scorpio-marionette

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[the-blind-assassin-12]

writer wednesday #14 - 8/17/2022

Well, would you look at that - it’s Wednesday again! I hope everyone is having a good week so far, and that it only gets better from here. Here are three things that I read this week that definitely helped my week improve, and if you haven’t read them yet you absolutely should because each one of them is undeniably GREAT. This week the theme was parts of a whole. 

*as always, this list is ordered by length.*

Burning Bright - Prologue by @tropes-and-tales

Oberyn Martell x Female Reader (& Ellaria Sand!!) 

First part of Burning Bright 

WC: 1.2k

OKAY, SO. I have been meaning to dive into this story for a while now and idk what took me so damn long but boy oh boy am I glad to be here now! Oberyn Martell is one of my favorite fictional characters, and he is perfectly portrayed here. Especially when he’s lusting after Lannister blood 🥴 I’d love to watch that man carve a swath through those assholes, lemme tell ya. And then there’s Reader, who is just as intriguing in her own right (sort of reminds me of Tyrion’s backstory a little)… and seemingly just as against marriage as Oberyn is. I am SO looking forward to what happens when they meet!

Perhaps This Life Was Not My True Life by @prolix-yuy​

Jack Daniels x Female Reader 

Ch. 4 of Cognitive Dissonance 

WC: 2.5k  

YEEHAW, FRIENDS! I’m playing catch up with this one because I - like a wayward cow - fell behind, but I’m about to giddy up on through the remaining available chapters faster’n Jack can call me Sugar. I continue to be in flippin’ awe of this Golden Circle x Westworld AU and the way that details from both universes are woven so well together. This chapter in particular, especially the Host communication log included (!), was a ton of fun and the action here set SO MUCH in motion. I cannot wait to see how this all plays out. Also? Totally correct, I’ve never wanted a man more. 🥴

All-Star Break by @something-tofightfor 

Jack Daniels x Female Reader 

Part of the On Deck Universe 

WC: 9.2k 

BATTER UP (the fried foods!) Because it’s time to head to the fair with Baseball Jack! This entire AU is just so much fun and feels so warm and I know it *IS* summertime, but everything about this make me feel nostalgic about summertime. Its the CLEAR love of not only Jack Daniels as a character, but also the game of baseball - and all its quirks, regulations and superstitions - that make this one feel so full and fleshed out. Getting to see this side of Jack, when he’s relaxed and happy and things are easy and light? That’s a bigger treat than the fries or the ice cream or the fireworks. (But getting to taste ice cream on his tongue WHILE watching fireworks? 🥴) Everyone needs to read this one and all the accompanying parts before the meat of the story starts, which I am VERY much looking forward to!!

#writer wednesday #three great things I read this week #jack 'whiskey' daniels #oberyn martell #pedro pascal characters #fic rec fic rec fic rec!

[radiowallet]

Jack "Whiskey" Daniels Masterlist

Oneshots

Howdy, Pumpkin - Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x F!Reader

A sweet and spicy autumnal collab with @magpie-to-the-morning

Drabbles

Fireflies - Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x F!Reader

#jack 'whiskey' daniels #jack 'whiskey' daniels fic #jack 'whiskey' daniels fanfic #kingsman golden circle #pedro pascal characters

[magpie-to-the-morning]

Hi Emma! No pressure, but if it sparks joy for you (or another emotion):

How about Mr. Jack Daniels and 36 - "Tragic. That outfit is a disaster."

"What? What?" Your sides shaking in suppressed laughter, you try, and fail to explain.

"Darlin." Jack's aggrieved huff is enough for you to shake your head and do your best to pull it together.

"Sorry!" You exhale a shaky laugh and gather yourself. "I'm sorry I know they're probably tactical or whatever, it's just-" Any progress you've made vanishes as Jack puts his disapproving hands on his hips and that terrible blue fabric actually swishes. The only word Jack manages to catch between your sobs of laughter is "snowpants."

#Hehe that was fun thanks love! #Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels #Pedro Pascal characters #Fic #My fic #Drabble #Drabble game

[elvenmother]

So @fuckyeahpedropascal did a poll about flirting and it was Dieter vs. Jack and it got me thinking so here are my Jack thoughts.

I put a comment that basically said I didn't think Jack was actually trying when he flirted with Clara at the festival. I think he deliberately did a shit job and fully intended to let Eggsy win. This could be for a few reasons:

He was trying to stir up shit between Eggsy and his girlfriend. If Jack was already playing both sides having Eggsy distracted by this would help.

He wasn't playing both sides yet and just wanted to give Eggsy a boost. The film sort of sets Jack up in a mentor role, to begin with, so this works from that angle.

He wasn't trying to get with Clara because he didn't want to. He wanted Eggsy to 'win' because he didn't want to. This is my personal theory.

I think Jack has never really flirted with anyone since his wife's death. Yes, he's been sent on missions by Statesman to seduce targets but Ginger's dialogue suggests that he isn't very good at it. I can't remember if it's in the movie or just the novel but she basically says to Merlin it's good to see someone who knows what they are doing when referring to Eggsy flirting with Clara.

I think Jack always does a shit job at flirting with targets because he doesn't want to sleep with anyone else. He plays the role (which is another thing @saintedcooper said on the same post) of Whiskey but there is a line for him. He's all charm and swagger but it's an act. So when he gets sent on a mission that requires him to flirt, he botches it so he doesn't have to be intimate with another person. I don't know whether this would be a conscious or subconscious thing but it fits with what we learn about him in the movie and the novel.

Anyway this is the post that got me thinking with some excellent comments and reblogs. What do other Jack fans think? Was he really trying and is just out of touch? Or did he let Eggsy win for 'reasons'?

#agent whiskey #jack 'whiskey' daniels #kingsman: the golden circle