save a horse (ride a cowboy)
agent whiskey x f!reader
sometimes you get a little… jealous
words: 1.5k
warnings: smut, office sex, mentions of voyeurism
⋆⭑✦⭑⋆
You know your partner.
You know how he flirts with most people he meets, but you also know how he would never be unfaithful to you. But, you can’t help but get a bit jealous when you hear him tease other girls.
You checked in two women for a meeting with the Agent: an older lady and a young college student who both work for a private investigation company. You can hear the younger girl giggling through the glass door- giggling. You’re sure Whiskey is pulling his usual tricks to strike a deal with the ladies.
You find yourself gripping your pen harder than usual.
The meeting ends at precisely 4:35.
The women kindly bid their goodbye, but the younger’s face is bright red.
Frustrated, you input the time into your system.
You smooth out your pencil skirt and fix your hair when you stand up. The room is awfully quiet; you need a certain Statesman agent to break the silence.
The automatic door opens with a quiet swish, revealing Whiskey sitting behind his desk. He’s staring intently at his computer, most likely sending off emails to his fellow agents.
“Jack Daniels.”
Whiskey beams, leaning back in his office chair.
“Well hell-o little miss,” He drawls, slightly tilting his head to the side. He beckons you with one hand, and pats his thigh twice. “C’mere, sugar.”
You keep your gaze firm, even though you want to stumble over to him like a newborn deer and collapse in his arms. Your heels click softly on the polished hardwood as you approach him, and instead of slipping into his lap, you stand behind him. Resting your hands on his shoulders, you give him a little squeeze.
“Did you have a productive meeting?” You ask, kissing his cheek. A bit of stubble pokes your lips, but you don’t mind.
“I sure did,” He replies, smoothing the fabric of his pants.
You twist a lock of his dark hair between your fingers, and trail more kisses down the sharp line of his jaw. He exhales a shaky breath, tightening his grip on the arms of the chair.
“Were those girls nice, Agent?” You continue. Whiskey shifts in his seat, noticeably aroused.
“They sure were- sweetheart, may I ask why you’re interrogatin’ me right now?”
You hum, running your fingers over the knot of his tie.
“I’m sure if you’d given them the chance, they’d be all over you,” You comment. “I mean, who wouldn’t? That’s what happened with us.”
The corner of Whiskey’s mouth turns upwards.
“Is that what this is all about?” He asks.
You maneuver yourself around and slip onto his lap, straddling his thick thighs with yours. His calloused hands immediately fly to your waist, steadying you.
“Maybe,” You breathe, cupping his face in both of your hands.
“You and I both know that I’d never touch another woman as long as you’re with me,” He says. His fingers find their way under the hem of your pencil skirt, and his touch burns.
“That so?” You ask, trying not to melt at his words. He hums, turning his head to the side and kissing your palm.
“You gonna let me show you how much you mean to me?”
You nod, breathless, and kiss him.
His kisses are always sloppy, a little messy, but they’re so full of passion that you don’t mind. Accidentally, you knock his cowboy hat off of his head.
“Are-“ You whine when his lips meet your neck, mustache rubbing against your sensitive skin. “Are you going to lock the door?’
“Maybe I’ll keep it open,” Whiskey drawls between kisses. “I’m sure those girls would love to see you, squirmin’ like a bug on my lap. Or maybe that shy little intern- what was his name? Frankie? I see the way he looks at you when he brings up papers.”
You moan, grinding your clothed cunt against his thighs.
“Jack…”
You’ve given up on your original plan. Whenever his hands- oh, his hands, cup your ass, you lose any semblance of rational thought.
Whiskey pulls away, making sure you’re balanced, and fiddles with the top button of your blouse. You usually keep a few undone because Whiskey likes it, but it’s clear he wants to see a little more than what you’re showing.
“Just gorgeous,” He groans when he fiddles with the last button, leaving your stomach and bra exposed.
“C-Can you lock the door?” You ask bashfully, shivering when Whiskey’s fingers brush over the curves of your hips.
“‘Course,” He says. Wrapping his arm around your waist to keep you steady, he leans forward and logs on to his high tech computer. There’s a faint beeping sound from the keypad outside of the frosted glass door.
“Make me so fuckin’ hard, baby,” Whiskey groans, gripping your wrist and guiding your hand to his crotch. As expected, your hand brushes against the hard outline of his cock, trapped in the fabric of his jeans. “Feel that? S’all for you.”
A strangled moan falls from your lips, and you give him a gentle squeeze.
“Let me-“ You stop mid-thought and hastily undo the clasp of his belt. The metal clang interrupts the sound of your heavy breathing: the only sound in the office. Your hands shake as you fiddle with his zipper, and with a deep breath you pull out his cock from his boxers.
Whiskey moans deeply at your touch. He’s warm and hard and you want him inside you so bad.
“Stand up, baby, take off your skirt,” He orders. You can see him clench his jaw, most likely restraining himself from standing up and throwing you against the desk.
Your legs are shaky as you unzip the back of your skirt, pulling the black fabric downwards. Watching you with dark eyes, your partner slowly pumps his cock.
“Sit back down, princess,” He murmurs, patting his thigh with his free hand.
Damn straight, You think. I’m his princess.
“Jack, I- I want to feel you.”
You notice the way his dick has left a wet spot on his dress shirt- shit, now he’s going to have to go home and change, all because of you-
“Mm!” You exclaim when Whiskey’s rough fingers find themselves inside your panties, pressing against your swollen clit. You have to grip onto his broad shoulders while he massages your wet cunt.
You’re a little upset when he pulls his hand away.
“Soaked.”
You feel like the air gets knocked out of your chest when he brings his fingers to his lips, tasting you.
“So sweet,” He growls. “Sweet like a goddamn Georgia peach. Wish I could taste you all day.”
His words feel like they make your body temperature rise to a thousand.
“Whiskey,” You half scold, half moan.
“Fuckin’- wanna bend over the desk? Let me fuck you from behind?”
You shake your head, gripping onto the expensive fabric of his suit jacket.
“Let me ride you, Jack.”
Whiskey throws his head back and swears. You let out a breathy laugh; you, and only you, can have him wrapped around your finger.
“I’ll let you do whatever you want,” He blurts, cock twitching against his stomach. “You gonna ride this cowboy, sugar?”
“Yeah,” You breathe, and your thighs shake as you lift your core enough so he can slip inside you. Whiskey holds your panties to the side while he guides the tip of his cock to your entrance. The two of you moan as you drop downwards, your ass pressing against his thighs.
“Shit,” He grunts through his teeth.
You take a moment to catch your breath before moving.
Jack keeps his hands on your waist, but leans forward to chase your lips. You cup his face in your hands, mindlessly kissing him while you move your hips. He fills you up so well, stretching and stuffing you in a way no one else can. You’re no stranger to this, in fact you’re quite skilled, but your legs still burn from the effort. It’s nothing compared to the way Whiskey’s cock slides in and out of you, though.
“Just like that,” He mumbles in between kisses.
You clench around him every time your clit brushes against his jeans. You’re sure Whiskey can feel it too; he squeezes his eyes shut each time it happens.
“S’good, sweetheart,” He praises. “Ready to cum?”
You shout in pleasure, nodding vigorously. His fingers find their way back to your clit, rubbing quick circles against you.
Your whole body shakes from your release.
It’s embarrassingly quick, but Jack keeps mumbling “that’s a good girl” in your ear. He continues to thrust into you, his movements becoming sloppy and erratic.
You slump against his chest while he finishes deep inside you, hips stuttering against your skin.
“Ain’t never had a better girl than you,” He says softly, brushing the back of his hand against your cheek. You smile; he always gets soft after he’s with you.
Before you can respond, the computer lights up.
Incoming Video Call: Agent Champagne
2K notes
·
View notes