#Kingsmen Fanfic
Text
Sweet as Sugar
Pairings: Agent Whiskey x Reader
Word Count: 11.3k
Warnings: NSFW, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, pining, cunnilingus, blowjob, slight dirty talk, slight praise kink, cowboy rule, swearing (this is basic smut, I think), Whiskey’s a little confused but he’s got the spirit...
A/N: I have a writer’s block toward the end of writing this, so what should have only take about a week took, like, a month. Hopefully, I’m back to writing again but I will make no promises bc it’s too gloomy outside for any good serotonin boost to write with. Thank you and enjoy this peace offering bc Pedro Pascal had found a way into my brain!
The mall was bustling with people, men and women coming and going, passing through to look at all the booths and tables showing off all the different organizations to one another as the convention continued on through the day. It was not just any convention, either. Secret services from all over the world, interconnected and soon-to-be, gathered that day to listen and learn and hopefully form closer partnerships to other companies. The entire building was rented out for this function.
Agents continued to pass by the big booth decorated with rhinestones and flowers, which advocated an elegant simplicity to represent the business they ran. Displayed on either side of the booth were two dresses: one a simple, yet fashionable wedding dress with intricate detailing sewed into every stitch, the other, a woman’s business suit with a flower pin carved from what looked like sapphires. Along the table were pieces of jewelry—watches, bracelets, rings, necklaces, just samples of what the company had to offer—and pamphlets of what exactly it was the business they were running.
And displayed proudly on the sign over their booth was a symbol, a renaissance style ‘Q’ that twisted and curved in classic cursive.
You sighed as you ran your hands along the sleeves of your blazer, your fingers grazing the cufflink on your wrist that matched the symbol of your agency. You had been standing behind your booth with one of three of your coworkers for about an hour now, waning the daylight in shifts between handling the booth and exploring the convention for food or company that was not the women running your station.
You looked over your watch as you awaited the return of your colleagues so you could switch off again, so you could leave the confines of advertising your business. Your outfit—a delicate gold satin button down that loosely tucked into your perfectly tailored white dress pants, which flowed along your legs and matched with white blazer to create your formal attire suit—was a perfect representation of your agency: distinguished and efficient. Your partner, though she wore silver and blue, stood beside you to match.
You smiled and shifted the clubmaster frames sitting at the edge of your nose as Pearl and Jasper returned, both women sending you nods and smiles as they took your places behind the booth for your switch. “We found the Kings just that way,” Jasper said, pointing in the direction they’d just come from before shifting the cloud of coiled black hair away from her face and securing it in a poofy ponytail. She then slipped her hands back into the pockets of her dark red suit, glancing back at Pearl as she spoke.
“They’ve got a nice booth. We might have some competition,” she quipped, smirking as smoothed her fingers over the thin chain of her necklace.
Opal, your own partner, laughed and shook her head. “Don’t we always have competition with the Kings?” she retorted, playful as she turned to walk with you. You agreed with her joke and headed in the direction Jasper had pointed in.
On the way, a pair of eyes spotted you and you offered a large grin. One of the agencies you partner with were the Amadoda Amafulege, the Flagsmen. They were a company set in Africa who you counted on for certain resources: information, jewels or gemstones, fabrics. They were reliable friends.
You and Opal approached them with wide grins, pointing them in the direction of your own booths to greet Jasper and Pearl. The interaction was short but warm hearted, and you were off again before you could be sidetracked by some other business you happen to work with. You both continued on walking, greeting physical bodies and holographic forms with waves and nods.
The large sign of the Kingsman symbol sat atop a booth as two well-dressed gentlemen with glasses stood behind their booth. One of them spotted the both of you, recognizing the likewise fashion choices as you came closer. Opal grinned, a mix of amusement and adoration in her tone at the company which both allied and competed with your own. “The famed Kingsman.”
The younger one smiled, offering a nod to you both. “Hello,” he greeted. When you finally stood in front of their booth, he reached out and handed each of you a pamphlet. You glanced over it, disinterested in absorbing information you already know. Both agents held their hands out for you. “Agent Galahad. This is Agent Merlin.”
The older man, Merlin, gave a courteous nod, “Pleasure to meet you.”
You nodded, shaking his hand confidently. “Back at you,” you responded. “We didn’t know if you’d be coming.”
Merlin gave a nod, smiling with a slight chuckle at your words. The Kingsman had not shown up to the last convention, business had gotten in the way and they were greatly missed. “We pulled some strings.”
You looked over their table at a few gadgets, some disguised as ties or watches, and then looked over at the two suits they chose to display similarly to your own booth. “Good to have the famous Galahad and Merlin,” you said, “and with a good booth.”
Your tone offered your impressed attitude toward their well-decorated station. Some of the booths here had not offered a lot of effort, simply their symbols on a sign and some pamphlets and gadgets on their tables. Plain. Boring.
“Some of these are severely lacking,” Opal said, practically reading your mind. She ran a hand through her hair, pushing the black curls out of her face so she could see as she offered her smile. “You’d think a secret service could put together a decent booth.”
Galahad extended a hand with his suggestion, "You should stop by the Statesman. You'd probably be impressed."
"We'll keep it in mind," you agreed, picking up one of the fancy watches on display. You examined it, the Kingsman symbol hiding under the glass, the gold lining on the band, the knobs and secret accesses embedded inside.
Merlin smiled, "In the meantime, we shall take a stop by yours."
Opal nodded, "Down by the Krispy Kreme. Can't miss it."
Your thumb pressed against the button on the side meant to wind the hour hand. It obeyed, pushing down and revealing a hologram of the Kingsman symbol once more.
"Very nice toy," you commented, pushing the button again to make the symbol retreat.
Merlin hummed, "You haven't found the kill button yet."
You shook your head, still examining the watch. "No, I have. You've got the poison dart here–" you tapped the near-invisible button on the side, "and the tranq dart here," you tapped the button next to it.
They raised their brows at you, impressed. "You've got them too close together, you should separate them a little more," you suggested. "Wouldn't want someone trying to knock an important target out and end up killing them instead."
The agents glanced at each other under Opal's watching gaze and your diverted one as you set the watch back down. Galahad nodded, "Right."
"Opal," you said as you turned to your partner. She hummed and you held your hand out.
"Oh, yes," she mumbled, lifting the lapel of her jacket to reach into a pocket. She handed it to you for you to present to both Kingsman. The box was lengthwise, a thin, golden thing housing a watch made by your agency.
"This is for Galahad—Harry—sent by our boss. She was hoping for us to run into you today. You'll give it?" You said, handing it over to the two.
"Of course," Merlin said, peeking inside of the box with a nod.
The two of you left again to go look at some other booths, or to find food. They sent you off with the directions to the Statesman, waving and wishing you farewell.
As you walked next to Opal, you recounted the booths you'd seen and the ones you hadn't on the way. You motioned toward the restaurant in the distance, smiling at the waft of good food as you got closer to it. You would all have to stop and eat there later today.
Your thoughts came to a halt when you heard someone's voice speaking to you, an unfamiliar voice that had you turning your head at the two figures approaching you.
"Hey there, sugar."
The voice had a Southern twang, smiling and confident as the owner slowed to stand in front of you. "Here we go," Opal mumbled beside you with an amused grin.
He was a handsome man, charming in the right ways. The black hat on his head accompanied his accent and his outfit, a suit that screamed professional cowboy. The mustache above his lip was kept and clean, and he wore it well, along with the glasses on the bridge of his nose.
He looked at you with his dark eyes, his tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip as he smirked. "How lucky am I to see a beauty like you in a place like this?"
There was a woman next to him with short dark brown hair mostly shielded by her own western hat, her skin shades lighter as her own glasses sat at the bridge of her nose. She held her hand out, "Hi, I'm Ginger Ale. This is Whiskey."
"Nice to meet you," you greeted her warmly, taking in the sight of her with a look that could only be described as an evaluation.
You turned to Whiskey, raising an amused brow as you held your hand to shake his. He grabbed it gingerly, bending at the waist to press a kiss to your knuckles.
"How do you do?" he winked, holding onto your hand a little longer before letting you go.
Opal chuckled, "He's cute."
He smiled at her, satisfied with her assessment as he grinned at her like some excited pup.
You tilted your head, nodding slowly. "Yeah… In a flirty toddler kind of way." His demeanor did not shift, your words were no dagger to his ego. "Just want to pinch his cheeks and pat his head," you chuckled, half-reaching like you would actually do it.
You might, his skin looked soft and you want to see his hair underneath his hat.
He winked again, licking his bottom lip, "You can do whatever you want, sugar," he quipped.
You chuckled. Cute.
"You think so?" you asked, tilting your head as you pitched your voice a few octaves to sound as sweet as the nickname he kept calling you.
He shifted so he was standing beside you, careful with his arm in case you didn't want to be touched. Thoughtful. He walked a little with you, leaving Opal and Ginger to stand next to one another and watch him guide you a few feet away.
"I know so," he chuckled. "What's your name?" He said "your" in that way only cowboys can say it: that slurred 'u' that made the 'r' slightly bleed into the last word.
You licked your bottom lip, offering a teasing gaze as you looked at him through your lashes. "Why don't you guess it?" You turned to him, setting your hands on his chest and playing with his tie.
He seemed charmed, entranced by your little gestures and looks. "Probably something pretty like that necklace," he smirked, motioning to your chest as his fingers brushed the golden locket around your neck, resting just between your breasts.
You took it in your hands, stroking the sides. "You like my necklace?"
"It's beautiful," he agreed, staring back at you with a gaze that matched the lovestruck puppy vibe he'd given you earlier. "Just like you," he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles once more.
"You wanna take a look inside?"
"I'd be delighted," he breathed, leaning forward just a little as his face huddled closer to you. You offered a tiny giggle as you undid the clasp, slowly opening the locket as you built the suspense of what could possibly be presented inside.
A bright light flashed quickly into Whiskey's eyes, there one second and gone before a full one could pass. Whiskey's hands rushed to his face as he made a slight groan, and he stumbled backward. You reached forward, pressing a hand to his chest, and watched him fall to the ground.
He made little sounds of discomfort, laying on his back as he brought his hands away and blinked rapidly. He stared in no clear direction, looking around blankly for…something.
Opal chuckled from her spot, Ginger stared with a mix of amusement and concern, and you just looked down at him with a smile as he tried to see.
You approached him, bending at the hips and looking down at him with a smile. You brushed some hair out of your face.
"This is my partner, Opal," you gestured toward her, though you knew he could not see. Your necklace had a device within it that temporarily blinded those on the unfortunate end of it—temporarily.
You pressed a hand to your chest, "My name is Diamond," you reached out and picked up his hat, which had fallen off his head. "Agents of the Queensmaiden."
You brushed the fabric of the hat, setting it over his face before straightening your back. You looked at Ginger Ale as you rejoined Opal's side. "Nice to meet you, Ginger."
She smiled and dipped her hat at you once, waving. "You, too. Feel free to stop by the Statesman."
You nodded, looping your arm with your partner's, paying the blind agent no mind as he struggled to his feet. "We were just headed there!" you smiled, amazed at the turn of events as you pointed it out. "We'll stop by later…when he can see again."
You turned with Opal, looking over your shoulder and grinning gently. "Bye, Whiskey," you giggled before taking your leave.
Whiskey reached out hastily, grabbing a hold of Ginger, just to make sure she was still there. The way she could have rolled her eyes and shook her head as a dopey smile spread over his lips. He motioned in the direction he thought you walked out in, sighing dreamily.
"I need her."
This time, Ginger did roll her eyes and shake her head. She took his outstretched hand and started pulling him back to the booth. "Come on, lover boy."
~
You did visit the Statesman’s booth—where you met Scotch and Tequila—but did so while Whiskey was away. You wanted to tease him, make him anticipate your arrival for you not to appear and leave him wanting more.
As the night waned, the booths were taken down to make room for the afterparty that had already begun. You were standing at one of the tall, narrow tables with Opal and Tequila, enjoying the music playing in the background as people mingled through the night.
As you laughed at a sarcastic comment made by Tequila, you heard the familiarly smooth voice of his colleague fill the space between you and couldn’t fight your smile.
“I see you’ve met my associate,” he announced himself, sidling up next to you as he leaned on the table. The look on his face held no defeat or upset, he was just as smiling as before as he took in the sight of you, once again entranced.
You chuckled, looking him up and down as you watched each other. “Oh,” you smiled, “so you can see again…”
He laughed heartily at that, amusement seeping into the sound and painting your stomach with butterflies, a light, airy feeling that bounced off the bones of your ribcage. He clasped his hands together, motioning with his head toward your chest, where your golden locket still lay idly by.
“Very nifty gadget, that necklace of yours,” Whiskey smiled, his eyes never leaving yours for long.
You picked it up, tracing your thumb along it like you had done before in a slight tease. “I’d like to think so. I designed it,” you confessed, setting it back down and looking at him, your head tilted up as you straightened your spine with pride. He tilted his head to the side, his grin deepening at your clear genius.
Tequila and Opal shared a look as they took in the interaction, chuckling lightly. “I’ll go ahead and step away now,” he said, doing just that and glancing back at your partner standing by his side.
She nodded her agreement, holding her hand out to the offered crook of his arm. “And I’ll join you.” She walked away with him, shaking her head and smiling as she left to go hang out with her own new plaything—of sorts.
Whiskey’s eyes looked you up and down as he thought over something for a moment before he simply spoke again. “Can I buy you a drink, sweetness?” he offered, holding his own arm out for you as Tequila had done.
You considered him, raising a brow. “I’m still sweet, huh?”
He flashed his teeth with his next grin, dipping his head down in a nod as a gesture with his hat. “Like sugar,” he hummed.
You sighed. “Okay.” Your arm looped through his own, and he smiled triumphantly as he gently tucked you into his side. You gave him a similar gaze to the one you’d given him before he ended up walking around blindly for an hour: your head tilted down as you looked up at him through your lashes, your smile soft, and your eyes teasing—the perfect demonstration of the less eloquently put “fuck me eyes”. “Lead the way, Whiskey.”
He walked you to the bar that had opened earlier on for the convention. The liquor was all top shelf stuff—they wouldn’t dare give low-quality alcohol to these highly respectable representatives of these agencies. He made sure you were sitting comfortably on your stool before he took his seat next to you—a true gentleman.
A bartender came down to the pair of you and smiled, waiting for your orders. “Scotch, neat,” you nodded, adding a “thank you” on the end as you looked away, anywhere but Whiskey while your eyes examined the many options behind the bartender.
“Actually,” Whiskey held his finger up, “I want you to try something.” You looked at him, narrowing your eyes teasingly at what he could be doing now. He turned to the bartender, pulling his hat off and setting it to the side to reveal the neatly kept hair underneath it. “Kentucky Statesman, whiskey,” he nodded.
They nodded back before stepping away to grab the bottle. You looked at him with a smirk as he gazed back at you, self-satisfied before you’d even tried the liquor he’d suggested. The bartender returned with the bottle of the amber liquid, showing off the label to ensure it was the correct one. When Whiskey nodded, they grabbed two glasses from under the bar and set it on the table, pouring the appropriate amount into each one.
You picked up the glass as it was given to you, swishing it around and examining it. You picked up the bottle in your other hand and looked at the label as you brought the lip of the glass to your nose to smell the heady scent of liquor. “Whiskey from Whiskey, huh?” you quipped, still only sampling the scent.
He laughed, sitting back with his glass in his hand, refusing to take a sip until you had. “Give it a taste.”
You smiled suspiciously, bringing the glass to your lips and sniffing it once more before finally tasting it. A sigh escaped you as whiskey lingered on your tongue before burning delightfully down your throat. It was magnificent, like liquid gold.
"Oh my god," you whispered under your breath, closing your eyes and shaking your head.
He smiled proudly, "Good, right?"
You looked at him, composing yourself once more as you straightened your back and too-slowly set your glass back down. You let out a long, calculated breath and just nodded too hard. "It's…It's good, yeah."
He finally drank from his own glass, hiding his chuckle as he beamed. "Go on," he said as he set his glass back down. "Have some more. On the house."
You looked at him, raising a brow. "I thought you were buying me a drink," you pointed out, taking another generous gulp.
He leaned back, motioning widely to the large selection of fine liquor. "Be my guest, get whatever you want."
You inhaled the intoxicating scent of the drink already in hand, your eyelids fluttering for a split second before you just shook your head. "I suppose I'll settle for this," you told him, sipping your drink and setting it down again.
Whiskey grabbed the bottle and refilled your glass. You looked up at him, narrowing your eyes playfully and smirking. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"
He shook his head, "Of course not. Just tryna show you the plus side of a Statesman." He set the bottle down and winked at you.
You scoffed, anything but annoyed. "What, think I'll find you?" you swirled your drink around. "We'll hook up over some good liquor?"
His laugh was nearly explosive as he shook his head, seemingly amused in the deepest degree. "Oh, no," he said. "I intend to do more than simply 'hookin' up' with you."
You hummed your response, examining him for far too long and looking away before his dark gaze could override your self-restraint. You crossed your legs, turning your body to face away from him again.
"So," he breathed, "tell me about the Queensmaiden."
You took in a long breath and blew it out to think, reaching out and grabbing his hat discarded on the table. Feeling the fabric under your fingers, you tilted your head. "What do you want to know?"
He shrugged, "Where did it come from?"
"Well," you began, "It was formed some time after Kingsman, 1952, by a man named Bobby Gold." They way you said it, with reverence and sass, Whiskey's lips twitched in a smile. "He's like… in his late eighties now, looking good." You shook your head to get back on track. "He founded the Queensmaiden to be an all-women agency, picked a protégé to take his place and run it after he stepped down."
You turned to him with a boastful smirk, "She's the first Diamond—was the first Diamond, she retired. I knew her, worked with her when I first joined. I got her name, promoted from Quartz."
He nodded, deeply invested in the way you spoke as you played with his hat, made of sturdy, soft fabric. "Fascinatin'," he smiled.
You nodded. "Gold ran a really popular jewelry business of the same name, had a younger sister who ran a tailor shop for women's clothing with her husband. He founded it, she later partnered as co-founder. Now we're a boutique found in most countries…all over the world." You shrugged your shoulder so nonchalantly, like your boast wasn't a real boast. "It's very efficient, dare I say, more efficient than the Kingsman itself."
He snorted, "Don't tell them that."
You leaned forward, too close within his space, "They probably already know." You sidled up closer to him, a clear flirt as you smiled. You raised his hat to him and set it atop your own head.
Whiskey's eyes darkened as he watched you down his nose. "You know…" he said slowly, "there's this rule where I come from… Wear the hat, ride the cowboy."
You licked your bottom lip as your eyes flicked up and down his face. "Oh, I'm well aware." His hand reached out and grazed your arm, daring to bring you closer before you pulled away from him again with a sweet smile. "What about Statesman?"
It took a beat for him to recover before he was shaking his head. "Not as glamorous," he sighed thickly. "Agency in the south full of cowboys and rascals."
You traced the rim of your glass with your finger, picking it up again and bringing it to your lips. "Well, I love me a nice cowboy," you said as you looked at him over your cup.
"Lucky for me, huh?"
"We'll see." You took a sip from your glass.
Suddenly, the music which had been in the background shifted into something else. Country music blared through the speakers and caught the attention of everyone in the area. Some excitedly stood to go join the small group ready who may have recognized the music, but one look at the jukebox provided by one of the agencies here proved that it was, indeed, a southerner who'd started the music.
Tequila stood there with his hat on his head as he smiled, one hand held out and grasping Opal's hand as he spun her into his chest. He glanced up at Whiskey and nodded once before hopping off to the large space cleared to dance.
He was the one to determine what dance was being done as he twirled Opal around into a half amateur-half professional swing dance. People joined in with their partners and allowed themselves to be swept away into more amateur dancing—a dance Whiskey suddenly seemed confident to prove himself in.
"C'mon, I've never missed a swing," he smiled excitedly.
He took your hand and pulled you to the floor before you could protest. He swung you, making you stumble into his chest as you breathed quickly. "I've never swing danced before," you confessed.
He looked you dead in the eye, his own sparkling with excitement and hints of giddiness. "Just follow me," he breathed, his kissable lips forming the words in a way that made it impossible to deny him this.
You sighed, "You better know what you're doing."
He smirked, this one more sly than the last. "Trust me, sugar," he leaned in. "I know what I'm doin'."
You tilted your head, standing up a little more and placing your hands in his. Once you were situated, you smiled and let out a breath of courage. "Well," you whispered, "show me how a real cowboy does it."
Whiskey beamed before he pulled you into the music, quick steps and swinging arm making it impossible to keep up. He twirled you out, he twirled you back in, he switched you to one side and swung you to the other. He spun you under his arm and into his chest. Just when you thought he might slow down, he dipped and held you in his arms with heavy breaths.
He caught the hat as it fell from your head, lingering there and staring at your lips. You stared into the depths of his gaze, catching your breath as they mingled between you in soft puffs of air. He slowly straightened his spine, standing you up and setting the hat atop your head once more, admiring its place there.
You smiled, leaning forward oh-so slowly. His eyes fluttered until they were closed. He looked so calm, so gentle and pretty. You pulled his hat from your head and put it back on him, lingering there a moment before pulling out of his arms and missing his warmth.
He felt you leave and refused to watch you leave him behind. When he opened his eyes again, you were gone. When he turned his head to a mystified Tequila, Opal was gone.
A breath poured from his lips as he couldn't help but smile. He smiled at your charm, at the way you left him starstruck, at the way he'd slipped his number in your pocket in the hopes you called him, finding him again and leaving him with a little more closure as he looked down at his boots and shook his head.
"Fuck me," he cursed, chuckling to himself.
~
That was the last he saw of you for months, the last you saw of him for months.
You hated how much you thought about him—his puppy-like flirtations, his darkened gaze, his fascination, and the way he moved you like a tornado on the dance floor. You stared at the crumpled up piece of paper with his number scrawled on it all the time, considering, thinking, wanting to call.
But you never did. Never once did you pick up the phone and dial his number. Never once did you talk about him to your colleagues or your partners—not even with Opal, who was totally smitten with her own cowboy.
You missed him, but you were determined not to.
But that didn't mean a crossing of paths would hinder a good reunion.
You smiled at the receptionist at the front desk, who granted you a smile of his own with the tilt of his head. Walking up to the desk, you adjusted the purse on your arm and spoke. “Hello, I’m here for an appointment with Mr. Sullivan. I’m his three o’clock.”
He hummed, “I wasn’t aware Mr. Sullivan was taking appointments today. Name?” he asked, turning to his computer.
“Davis. We made an appointment together over the phone,” you stated in a sickly sweet voice. “Oh, I hope I marked the right day.”
He looked at you and just smiled, shaking his head. “No worries. I don’t see you in the database, but I’ll just give him a quick call to confirm. Alright?”
You nodded, thanking him kindly as you wiped your hands down your light suit. He picked up the phone and dialed the number to his boss’ office, giving you another large grin. When the phone was picked up, he began to explain the situation, and his reaction was full of wide eyes and stutters. “Yes, sir,” he answered, setting the phone back down.
He looked back at you regretfully. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Sullivan will not be taking any appointments today. You are welcome to reschedule, if you’d like.”
“Of course,” you nodded.
“Great.” He reached down under the desk to grab some papers before wincing. “I’ll have to go make some copies. If you’ll excuse me.”
“Not a problem.”
He disappeared behind a door behind the desk and you sighed, turning anyway to go up to the elevator on your right. As you were walking, you noticed a group of men walking down the hall, dressed in black with shades over their eyes. Security guards. You straightened your spine and merely kept walking. You were just at the elevator when you heard shots firing behind you. You groaned loudly and ducked for cover. Their gunfire was loud and thunderous, making couch stuffing and wood splinters fly through the air as you hid behind a desk behind a sofa in the cushy lobby.
You cursed under your breath as you dug through your purse. “No, no, no,” you mumbled as you selected which weapon you would use. You dug out a little silver disc and smiled. “Yes,” you declared as you pulled a little pin out of the side.
You threw it behind you where the guards were still shooting, and ducked down, waiting for a blow that never came as the gunshots continued. “Talc!” you yelled, shaking your head at the newbie in the weapons department and one of her faulty weapons making its way into your arsenal.
You huffed as you looked behind you before you suddenly heard a body drop. You looked over and your eyes widened in shock and surprise. Hiding behind a couch a little farther away from your own was a person who definitely was not on their side. He locked eyes with you, and your expressions became mirrors of the other.
“Diamond?” “Whiskey?”
The simultaneous ringing of your names only escalated the confusion as you stared at one another. “What are you doing here?” he questioned in as low a whisper he could manage to ensure you still heard him, holding a sleek, golden gun tight in his grip as he paid no mind to the small cavalry currently shooting at you.
“I’m on a fucking mission. What are you doing here?” you countered.
He shrugged, “On a fuckin’ mission.”
Shit. “Shit,” you huffed. You thought for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest. “What’s your objective?”
Whiskey pressed his gun to his temple, tilting it up as a gesture of his assassination attempt. You let out a breath of relief, pulling a drive with the Queensmaiden symbol on the side from out of your bra and showing it off to him. He sighed as well.
“Cover me?” you asked.
He smiled and nodded, sending you a flirty wink. “You got it, sugar.”
You grinned and counted down for him before ducking out of your cover and rushing to the elevator closest to you. Whiskey stood, grasping his gun as he shot. You pressed the elevator door button and glanced over your shoulder, gripping your gun tight as you waited impatiently for the elevator to open.
When you heard the ding, you had half a second to celebrate as a loud shot came too close to you. You looked down at the elevator button, flashing and sparking as it sat destroyed in the wall.
You pried the door open and shouted Whiskey's name over your shoulder as he retreated back. You got inside, jamming the button closed without missing a beat or waiting for him to get through.
The doors were already closing when he finally slipped through, a bullet missing him by an inch. In the safety of the elevator, you let out a breath and calmed.
There was silence, besides the breaths blowing through the space of the elevator. Whiskey looked at you as you raised your hand, looking at the clock face of your watch.
"You never called," he accused, looking at you with a raised brow and a look on his face that wasn't mad, but not entirely giddy with joy.
You shrugged, still not looking at him. "Been busy."
He chuckled, "With what?"
You missed his voice, that smooth Southern lilt that could lull you to gentle sleep or drive you insane with desire. With the adrenaline pumping through your veins, it was the latter.
"My job," you laughed, pressing a button on your watch as a hologram arose from it, circling the Queensmaiden symbol.
You turned to him, granting him a smile. You were more happy to see him than you should have been. "Did you miss me, lover boy?" you winked. "Tequila says you did."
He scoffed, shaking his head. "You've been talking with Tequila?"
You smirked, nodding. "Of course," you told him, swiping the hologram aside to pull up some files off of some computer. "He's with Opal. They hooked up after the convention."
He sighed longingly, leaning on one leg as he set his gun back in his holster. "And to think," he breathed. "That coulda been us."
You snorted, "Don't get ahead of yourself, cowboy."
You tapped away from the files you'd been scrolling through, pulling up some surveillance footage. There was a hall through the camera, one full of guards with more numbers than the ones downstairs.
"Aww," you muttered. "We have a whole welcome party waiting for us." You turned him with a grin, swiping away the hologram and returning your hand to your side.
He reached behind his back as he smiled. "How sweet."
Whipping his jacket to the side, he grabbed some sort of fancy handle, intricately detailed with gold and silver. You nodded, impressed as you looked at its design.
"Nice," you commented. You opened your jacket, sliding it off your arms and reaching behind you to grab a hold of a handle of your own. It was blue, a shining color that sparkled as Whiskey's eyes scanned over it.
The elevator dinged and you stood beside Whiskey with a smile. The sea of guards on the other side watched you with stern faces, ready for the inevitable fight as they stared down two people who didn't stand a chance.
"Well, howdy, fellas," Whiskey greeted, tipping his hat.
You tilted your head and smiled, "How do you do?" You pressed a small button on one end and the handle began to unfold, expanding into a dagger on one end of a strong rope and a heavy hammer-like weapon on the other.
At the sight of the weapon, the fight began. With drawn guns and angry glares, the guards were quick with their guns as they cornered you in the elevator.
The handle in Whiskey's hand extended into a lasso—a silver whip that he swung out into the small army. It wrapped around the gun of the man in the front of the group, holding on tight as he pulled it taut and sent him falling forward.
You took your rope dart and began swinging it, smacking a bullet out of the way as it hurdled toward you. You threw it and Whiskey watched, amazed, as it wrapped around some man's neck and the dagger embedded itself into his chest. You pulled it, and he spun around to the floor.
The other guards were distracted long enough for the both of you to retreat from the elevator and into the fight.
Ropes flew through the air, daggers pierced bodies, and electricity had them writhing in pain before dropping to the floor. Whiskey's rope wrapped around someone's neck as he pulled him in, punching him hard in the face and sending him to the floor.
He heard a pained yell behind him and turned to see some man falling to the floor with a blue knife in his back. You stepped forward, setting your foot on his back and pulling the dart out.
"That's cool," he said, admiring your weapon of choice.
You smiled, pulling a gun and shooting someone coming toward Whiskey from behind. "Thank you. It's made of sapphires."
"Oo," he smiled. "Duck." You did so, dipping down as he raised his own gun and shot another man aiming his gun at you.
He looked down at you, knelt on one knee in front of him, tightly gripping your rope tight. "What an interestin' position we've found ourselves in."
You scoffed, standing up too close to him. "Keep it in your pants, hotshot."
You turned on your heel, returning to the fight as the few guards who were left brandished their guns. The last of them were easy to take out, and you did. As you swung your rope at the last man standing you noticed a different rope do the same.
You turned your head to Whiskey as he smiled at you. "Looks like we made a connection."
You rolled your eyes. "Shut up." You grabbed your gun and raised it to the man, shooting him instantly and collecting your rope as he dropped to the floor.
You walked over to the body, bending down and wiping the blood from your blade before stepping over him and toward the grand office door down the hall. Whiskey was more than happy to follow you.
You take a card you'd snatched from one of the bodies and swipe it along the reader, the door sliding open to allow you inside. As soon as you crossed the threshold, you heard the sound of a gun click.
You both looked up at Mr. Sullivan pointing his gun at you, dressed in an expensive suit with hands that trembled only slightly with fear for his life. You sighed, looking back at him. "Well, you caught us," you said as you stood beside Whiskey. "Props."
"Question is…" Whiskey added, "who're you gonna shoot?"
Sullivan tilted his head. There was no amusement in his face, but he gave you a look that said "really?". He motioned between the two of you and raised a brow. "You've got some rope. I've got a gun. I can shoot both of you."
Whiskey nodded, agreeing with his logic. "Well, you caught us fair and square," he sighed dramatically. Then he smirked, "Pull the trigger."
Sullivan didn't like how calm you both were. He was holding a gun to your face, and you were telling him to pull the trigger. Why the fuck would you tell him to pull the trigger if he had the upper hand? Were you suicidal?
"There's just one little thing," you spoke, shifting on your side. "You brought a gun to a knife fight."
Sullivan missed the way you passed your rope dart to Whiskey, who took it with too much excitement and, with a few mighty swings, threw it at the unsuspecting boss. The rope wrapped around his neck, and he dropped his gun to grab it and force it away to no avail. The dagger came back around after its loops, and he had no time to process as it lodged in his chest.
Whiskey smirked before he pulled roughly on the rope, spinning the man round, unwinding him like a yo-yo. The dagger yanked from his chest and Whiskey caught it as it flung back. Mr. Sullivan dropped to the floor, choking on his own blood as it spilled from his wound.
You walked past him dismissively, stepping up to his desk and grabbing your drive. Sticking it in the computer, you began typing away as Whiskey admired your weapon.
"I needa get me one of these," he muttered.
"I've got plenty. I'll send you one," you suggested.
He looked up at you, his eyes glittering, "Really?"
"Why not?" You shrugged your shoulders. Leaned over the desk, you watched the loading bar slowly climb toward completion before you were able to withdraw the drive and stuff it in your pocket.
You grabbed a butterscotch from the bowl on his desk, helping yourself as you walked back over to Whiskey. You smiled at him and tilted your head. You hold your hand out to him, making a grabby motion.
"Can I have it back?" you asked.
He tilted his head up, smiling down at you with narrowed eyes. "Maybe."
"Maybe?" you questioned.
"Can I get something in return?"
You sighed and thought for a moment, continuing to smile at him as you returned your hand to your hip. "What do you want?"
He shrugged, pretending to think. "How about a pretty please?" he smirked, his eyes dark and inviting, his voice quiet and deep.
"You want me to say please?" you asked, standing too close as your eyes flickered to his lips for half a second.
Again, he shrugged, but his smile became more wicked. "A kiss on the cheek might suffice."
You chuckled deeply, standing on your toes as you leaned forward. You got closer, closer, and closer still until your breaths mingled. You shifted to his cheek, turning your head just enough so your lips nearly brushed his ear as you whispered to him. "You're going to have to try harder than that."
You took the rope from his grip and backed away from him, watching him watch you with lidded eyes. You backed toward a private elevator in the office, pressing a button on the wall as the doors opened. You looked toward the door you came in and smiled. "You've got company."
You stepped back into the elevator and the doors closed, shielding you from him as you waved.
Whiskey stood in the office, looking toward the door that was currently being beaten against by his visitors. Smiling and shaking his head, he laughed heartily. "Clever."
You stepped out onto the roof, taking the drive from your pocket and tossing it to the ground. You pulled your gun and shot at it once, destroying it entirely as you made your way to the jet waiting for you. You boarded it, climbing into the pilot's seat as you started it up and left.
As you flew away from the building, you glanced back at it and smiled when you saw a figure climbing up the side of the building to the roof. He looked over his shoulder at you, and you could make out the distinct sight of him waving his arm at you. Not to grab your attention, but to say hello.
You saluted him before departing for a second time.
~
Your next encounter with him was not so far in the future. In fact, it was later on that night.
You walked into the large house you were staying in after a long day out. Between your mission, your flights, and everything in between, you were about ready to pour yourself a drink and go to sleep early.
The house was owned by the Queensmaiden, a mission house for meetings or get-togethers or just a place for agents to crash after long days on missions. Since your trip today was done alone, your partner back at home serving as your tech that day, you were in this big empty home alone. You didn't mind much, it was a lot of space, you could turn on the stereo as loud as you want, there was plenty of expensive booze. You were all set for the night.
As you walked through the loud house, which was filled with the classic voice of Frank Sinatra, you made your way to the open bar. As you poured yourself a drink, you glanced at the label with a smile. Statesman whiskey.
"So you did like it."
You didn't turn around, but you smiled at the smooth tone of your cowboy behind you. You grabbed a second glass and poured him his own. You set the bottle down, picked up both cups, and walked over to him with a smile.
"It's alright."
You stopped in front of him, making a bad habit of standing too close. Passing the glass over, you looked up at him through your lashes. He wasn't wearing his hat, giving you a view of his tousled hair. Likewise, he was stripped down to a white button down with the sleeves rolled up, his shirt still tucked in his pants fastened with his belt. His tie was gone, and the top buttons of the shirt were undone. He saluted his glass to you, and you gladly clinked them together in a quiet cheer before taking a sip, your eyes never parting from his.
"You know," he sighed. "This disappearing act of yours is starting to get a little old, Diamond."
You shrugged a shoulder, "I can spice it up if you want."
He simply shook his head, "I think I'd rather pick a different act. It would put us in much different positions."
"Oh?" You smiled, reluctantly turning on your heel and stepping away from him. "What positions did you have in mind?"
You lounged on the couch, kicking off your shoes. You looked back at him with one hand on your glass and the other under your chin as you rested your head on the back of the couch.
He sighed once again, his whole body moving with him as he looked at you in that way that reminded you of a lovesick pup. He set his hands on his hips, leaning on the side as he contemplated.
"You never called."
His words from earlier pricked your heart in a special kind of way this time. You sighed and just shook your head, "No, I didn't."
The song playing through the speakers in the house faded out to welcome another. Sinatra's "I'm a Fool to Want You" was sharp in your mind.
You set your glass down and looked up at Whiskey again. You reached your hand out to him, wiggling your fingers in the hope that he'll hold your hand.
He did, and you smiled.
"I did miss you," you confessed.
That offered him some solace. "Honest?"
"Honest." He sighed, stepping closer. You sat up, settling on your knees as he still towered over you. He looked at you for a long time before suddenly smiling. He bent down, wrapping his arms around your body and surprising you as he hoisted you up, spinning you over the couch and setting you on your feet. You held onto him, laughing as he pulled you close to his chest. He slid his hand into your own, entwining your fingers as his other hand rested on the small of your back.
"Dance with me?" he asked.
You tilted your head, "Do I have a choice?"
He laughed and just shook his head. "No."
You laughed. He took a side step, swaying you in time with the gentle rock of the music. It was slow and steady, filled with too much emotion than should have been allowed for a couple who had only met once a few months prior. You rested your head on his chest, your eyes closed as you blew out a long breath.
His voice rumbled in his chest as he spoke, low and quiet. "How lucky am I to see a beauty like you in a place like this?" he smiled.
You chuckled, recalling those words from when you first met. "Am I still allowed to do whatever I want?" you asked, looking up at him.
He spun you out, twirling you before spinning you back in, your back pressing against his chest. He leaned down to your ear. "Never revoked the privilege."
You twisted your neck to see him, smiling at his face so close to yours. You leaned forward, your lips ghosting over his own as you considered it. For a moment, you considered it.
You swerved to hover your lips near his ear, "Catch me."
You stepped away from him, walking backwards as your eyes stayed glued to his. You watched him with the same dark, teasing eyes as you had used before. The naughty look on your face, the proximity at which you once stood, the tingling of your lips never grazing his but teasing him with the possibility of such a sacred union…the thought of never sealing that fate with you and leaving once again for another wild goose chase where he never knew if he would see you again due to the dangers of the lives you both lived. They were possibilities that made his heart ache in ways it shouldn't have.
He just shook his head, deciding then and there that he wouldn't let you have another swift get away, wouldn't let you slip through his fingers with nothing to remember you by but the ghost breaths against the shell of his ear where you exhaled your secrets. "Not this time."
He took a few long strides toward you, taking you in his arms and crashing his lips down upon yours. You gasped into his mouth, melting instantly into him as your legs turned to jelly. He held you close to him, supporting your neck with one large hand as he consumed you in a passionate embrace.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down and swaying gently as you finally kissed the cowboy you'd been craving for months. He bent down, wrapping his arms under you and lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist. He held you up with strong arms, walking you back until he was pushing you up against a wall.
When he pulled from the kiss, heavy, hot breaths were exchanged between the two of you. His hands roamed your body, drinking you in desperately. His mouth pressed against your neck, his tongue darting out to lick along your thumping pulse. You moaned, feeling the heat between your legs igniting with a fire.
His name fell from your lips as he nibbled on your neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair and you pulled on his messy strands.
He rolled his hips into yours, pulling a shaky breath out of you. Your leg tightened around him, bringing him closer as you mirrored his own movement from before, drawing out your pleasure with grinding hips and breathless sighs. He groaned as one of his hands gripped your waist to stop you.
Whiskey unwrapped your legs from him as he set you back down on your feet. When he sank to his knees, it was with a maddening amount of eye contact that he didn’t dare break. His hands smoothed along your sides, rounding to the front to undo the clasp of your slacks. He moved torturously slow as he pulled the slacks down your legs, revealing more and more skin to him as he went along. Your eyes fluttered when you felt his lips on your thigh.
You stepped out of the pant legs when they finally pooled around your ankle. Whiskey leaned forward to press a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his tongue darting out to taste the skin before taking it between his teeth in a gentle nibble. You stifled a moan at the feeling, watching his dark eyes drink you in.
When he finally fingered the waistband of your panties, he pulled them down in one swift tug to reveal yourself to him. He licked his lips and you bit down on your own. “Look at that,” he praised. “So pretty.” He looked up at you with a cocky smirk, holding the back of your leg up and setting it atop his shoulder.
He leaned forward and your lips parted so delicately when his tongue darted out to lick you. Your breath hitched, halting in your throat as his hot tongue delved between your folds. Like a fire, the warmth spread through your body as you melted into him. Your hips jerked, seeking his mouth.
His lips wrapped around your pussy, tasting you with an intoxicated moan. When he sucked on your clit, your breath trembled and a whimper managed to weave its way through your vocal chords. His talented tongue glided through your folds before retreating as he pulled back from you to look at your pretty face.
You looked down, whining lightly at him as he stared at you with eyes that glittered with praise. His hand trickled up your side before dipping between your thighs and into your warmth. “You taste sweet as sugar, sugar.”
You had to fight through your eye roll as you enjoyed the sweet stretch of his thick fingers inside of you. “You have very skilled hands,” you nearly stuttered. Your eyes fluttered as he curled the length of his fingers.
“Why, thank you, sweetheart,” he dipped his head as though he was still wearing his hat. He pushed his fingers in deeper, adding a third as he coaxed you toward a sweeter release. He was a lot gentler than you expected, treating you like a fragile lover. It warmed your heart, so used to the less patient lovers of one-night stands long since.
The sharp dig of dull nails into the flesh of your thigh contrasted with the prior feathery fingertips on your sides. You were breathless and needy, aching for him all over. With those same fingers still buried deep inside of you, he leaned forward and sucked on your throbbing clit.
The shocks of pleasure creeping up on you sparked along your skin—your fingertips, the very ends of prickly flesh. Your fingers gripped and tangled in his hair. Your hips stuttered forward, searching for his mouth in a desperate attempt to push yourself over the edge.
But he was doing it first, crooking his fingers in the perfect way here and digging the tip of his tongue into that sensitive bundle of nerves there as your pitch climbed higher and higher with the anticipation of a climbing buildup. The rubber band inside your belly snapped and your mouth dropped. What were supposed to be rises of whiny moans were just a symphony of shuddering breaths, arrhythmic and impassioned.
He was right there to ease you through the shocks, encouraging you with his tongue back down to the tingles that covered the expanse of exposed skin.
When he pulled away, his lips were still occupied with your body, pressing hungry kisses to your thighs and lower belly with a fervor that made you tug harder on his curling locks of hair.
He looked up at you with kiss-swollen lips, smiling like an idiot in love—no, not love. This was just lust. That's all. That was it. It didn't matter if that spark in your chest only pumped through your veins when he looked at you like that.
You smiled at him, breathless. "Take me to bed."
"Don't have to tell me twice."
He tightened his grip around your waist before he stood, tossing you over his shoulder and holding you with one arm. You yelped, dissolving into giggles as he carried you through the house and through the winding halls toward the bedroom.
On the way, you smiled as you passed by his hat sitting on a table along the walls. Reaching you, you had just barely grabbed it with your fingertips as you held it to your head.
He pushed the door open to reveal the room: a king-sized bed with golden sheets, a mini chandelier reflecting diamonds all over the expensive room, paintings and frames and shelves probably hiding more tools and gadgets than there are choices of liquor behind the bar in the main room.
He kicked the door closed behind him, admiring the room with a hum and a nod of his head before plopping you down onto the bed. You fell with a bounce, chuckling again as you held onto his hat. He smiled, watching you put it on your head and look at him with eyes that expressed far too much to be an innocent one-night stand.
Part of Whiskey hoped it was more than an innocent one-night stand.
So did you.
But if it was, he would rock your world. He stared down at you with darkened eyes, undoing his shirt and tossing it somewhere in the room. The rest of his clothes followed after until he was in nothing but his boxers. Then he did the same to you, except he didn't stop until you were bare before him, left in nothing but your expensive necklace and earrings to admire the way you still looked like the perfect reflection of the woman of his dreams. He left the hat. You looked perfect in it.
"Not fair," you complained with a grin. "I'm stripped bare, and you're still dressed."
You leaned up on your elbows, sitting up until you were situated on your knees as you leaned forward. You smiled up at him, hooking your finger in the band of his boxers to pull him forward. "Your turn."
He set his hand on your cheeks and nearly melted at the way you leaned into his warm palm, your eyes fluttering shut as a gentle breath blew through you. He shifted his hand so he pinched your chin, lifting your face to see better. "You're so fuckin' beautiful, sweetness."
"Oh, yeah?" you chuckled. "Prove it to me."
He leaned forward, bending down to your face and connecting your lips again. He licked into your mouth, tasting the remnants of whiskey on your tongue. You moaned, melting against him. You pulled away, your hand still hooked around his waistband. You tugged them down, ridding him of the meaningless article of clothing to reveal him to you.
Fuck, he was beautiful. Flushed tipped, thick, and throbbing. As you reached out and stroked your fist over his cock, he twitched in your hand and groaned. You bit your lip, leaning forward and giggling when his hat on your head bumped into his stomach.
He chuckled at you, tilting it up so he could see your face and you could move. You smiled at him before going back to his leaking slit. You leaned forward and licked him, flattening your tongue along his head to taste him. You moaned again, leaning forward to take a longer lick along the length of him. He breathed a curse under his breath, watching you lick him up as you worked your tongue along him.
His hand came to rest on the back of your neck, easing you forward without actually moving you. Your lips wrapped around him, slick and warm as you took him in your mouth. His head tilted back before he looked down again to see you, not wanting to miss a second of it.
"Fuck," he breathed, hips twitching. You smiled around him, working him deeper in your throat with the intent of taking the whole of him. "Fuck, you're amazing. How did I get so lucky?"
You whimpered, laving your tongue along the underside of his cock where the vein was throbbing. "You like that?" he asked. "You like when I tell you how fuckin' perfect you are?"
You nodded as best you could, wrapping a hand on the back of his thigh to pull him in some more. "You're so goddamn perfect," he promised. "Makin' me feel special like this. D'you feel special?"
You just moaned your response, suckling around him and pulling a rough moan from him. After a moment, he pulled you away, setting his hands on either side of your neck as he caught his breath. He looked down at you, smiling and pulling you forward to kiss you again. The way he kissed you this time was so much different than before, so much softer, slower, with more meaning behind it than there ever should have been. Fuck, you were drunk on it, craving his lips more and more with an impossible desperation, even while he was still kissing you.
He eased forward, moving you until you were laying on your back. His lips slipped on and off of yours, down to your neck as he buried his face there and suckled on the skin.
He settled himself between your legs, grinding down on you as you moaned into each other's mouths. You grasped his bicep, squeezing it tight as you stopped him. "Wait," you breathed.
He stopped immediately, looking down at you with a face etched in concern. "What? What's wrong?"
You smiled, "Wear the hat, ride the cowboy." Your hands flattened on his chest and you pushed him back with a huff, flipping him around so he lay on his back as you straddled him.
He smiled at you, setting his hands on your hips. "You scared me for a second there," he said, his thumbs stroking circles along your skin.
You hovered over him with shaky thighs. "Scared you weren't gonna get your cock wet tonight?" you chuckled.
He just shook his head, "Scared I hurt you."
Your breaths filled the rooms as your body slowed to a stop, staring at him. Your heart leapt and you allowed yourself, just for a moment, to succumb to its calling to him.
"You could never hurt me, Whiskey," you promised.
You only allowed him a moment to let it sink in before you were grabbing his cock in your warm palm, stroking him a couple times before guiding him to your soaked pussy. Sinking down on him, both your eyes shut as your breaths puffed into the air.
"Fuck," you moaned. You braced yourself on his shoulders, helping them guide you as you slowly rolled your hips atop his. His hands gripped your waist, blunt nails digging into skin and creating little crescent dents.
The sensations were amazing. His cock stroked along your velvet walls and sparked a desperate pleasure within you that had you forgetting about the little tingles of pain at adjusting to his length. You brought him deeper, your bodies connected indefinitely as you began your slow movements.
Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the blossom of pleasure deep within you. You leaned back, placing a hand on the hat to keep it there as you rolled your hips, faster and faster, chasing the euphoria you craved.
"Look at you," he groaned. "Fuckin' ridin' me like a true cowgirl."
"Lucky for you, huh?" you smirked, breaking off into a whimper as the blunt head of his cock brushed against a sweet spot inside you.
He nodded, "Lucky for me."
You rode him, and you rode him hard, ignoring the ache in your hips and your legs from the continuous motion, ignoring the breathlessness shocking your throat at all the air you were taking in, ignoring the pounding in your chest at the way he stared at you: lips kiss-swollen, eyes sparkling, hands gripping. It was so much, too much, you craved this man more than you'd ever craved anything before in your life.
"Whiskey," you moaned, stifled moans tearing from your throat as his name spilled from your lips. "Fuck, Whiskey, you feel so good."
He hummed. "Take what you need from me, sugar. Take what you want." You leaned forward, holding yourself up with your hands on his shoulders. You were desperate, fucking yourself on him like it was your last time. When his thumb brushed your clit, a guttural moan ripped at your throat and your hips jerked. "That's it, sweetness. That's it."
He was just as breathless as you, guiding your hips with one hand and circling your clit with the other. "Shit," you sighed. "More. Fuck, Whiskey, I'm almost there."
"C'mon, sugar," he urged you. "Cum for me, Diamond."
You didn't care to hold back, you couldn't. You came with a shout, dropping forward onto him and burying your face in his neck. You moaned into his neck, pitchy and breathless as you came apart on top of him. Your hand tangled in his hair, he held tightly to your hips.
Your cunt clenched around him, squeezing and spasming and bringing him to the edge as his release tumbled after yours. One of his hands flew to your hair, holding you there as his fingers carded through.
Your hips canted a couple more times, milking the last ounces of pleasure you could get before you fell against his chest. He held you as you both slowly floated down from your highs, falling into the other's embrace as you came to.
The stillness that followed was like something out of a dream. The air was heavy with the smell of sex, but light with the breaths blowing from the both of you. Every inch of your body tingled, your fingertips felt like pop rocks, your skin prickled with a mix of warm and cold. Whiskey's heartbeat resounded through you, grounding you as you traced your fingers over his chest.
You could feel his hand stroking through your hair, rubbing gently into the back of your neck and making you feel like putty. You could stay like this forever, resting atop him and feeling the life he breathed into you from his chest.
"Jack."
You took in a small breath, leaning up and shifting yourself so he slipped out of you. You sighed a little before looking up at him with a lovesick grin. "Hmm?"
He looked at you, smiling right back as he chuckled lightly. "My real name is Jack."
You smiled and shook your head, burying your face in his chest as you chuckled. "Jack Daniels?" you joked, recalling the name brand Whiskey.
The way he chuckled made you look up at him. "Yes, actually."
You looked at him, smiling so wide your face hurt. "Seriously? Your name is Jack Daniels?"
He nodded, "Yep."
You shook your head, laying your head back on his chest and reaching clumsily over to grab his hat, which had fallen off your head. You set it over your face, shielding you from the light shining from the chandelier.
You sighed slowly, tracing patterns into his skin. You whispered your own name to him, glancing up at him and then back out to the little lion figurine on the small stand against the wall on the other side of the room. It was bronze, standing proudly with one paw perched up and his mouth dropped in a mighty roar.
Whiskey smiled, stroking his hand down your back and then back up to your hair. "You've got a beautiful name, sugar."
You smiled slowly. "Sweet as sugar?"
He nodded, "Sweeter."
You leaned up, your face inches apart. "You're gonna get a cavity if you have any more of me," you kissed his lips, long and slow and wanting more.
"The sacrifices we make…" he replied, chuckling deep in his chest as he kissed you again.
Pedro Pascal taglist: ...
Tag yourself here...
#agent whiskey#agent whiskey x reader#jack daniels x reader#jack daniels x female reader#kingsmen golden circle#kingsmen#whiskey x reader#agent whiskey x reader smut#agent whiskey fanfic#agent whiskey fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#kingsmen fanfic#kingsmen fanfiction#smut#reader insert#female reader
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Midnight & Daybreak Series List
This series is 18+ / This series is rated for Mature Audiences only / This series contains a large amount of potential triggers reader discretion is advised.
After your husband suddenly starts shutting you out, you sneak into his office to find clues as to why. You expected an affair…..what you didn’t expect to find was a file that detailed plans to use his late wife’s DNA in a new method of cloning. You decided to confront him.
Midnight Series
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Daybreak Series
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
Chapter Thirty Three
Chapter Thirty Four
Chapter Thirty Five
Chapter Thirty Six
Chapter Thirty Seven
Epilogue
#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfic#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey fanfic#agent whiskey x you#kingsman fanfiction#kingsmen fanfic#jack daniels x y/n#jack daniels x you#ezra prospect fanfic#ezra prospect x reader#ezra prospect x you
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Hyiaa!! If these prompts are still free can I please request
BINGO: Bimbo , Eggsy Unwin with the prompt
"I like having you covered in me. Smothered in me, full of me. Want all of you, and you need all of me." ?
Thank you for your time!
—𓆩[your majesty]𓆪—
𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪
𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Eggsy Unwin x Fem! Princess! Bimbo! Kingsman Agent! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, maybe slight angst
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2.6K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Eggsy truly didn’t know how you were recruited into Kingsmen, but he wasn’t complaining. You helped him out a lot during training, but for fucks sake, were you blind to how Charlie and his friends looked at you? When you go missing, though, Eggsy has to save you. He couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - foul language and cursing || reader is portrayed as very naive and kind of an airhead || reader is portrayed as wearing tight and revealing clothes and likes makeup || sex positive reader || again, kinda ditsy || you’re an undercover spy princess now || you get kidnapped || edited timeline || lovesick eggsy || smut || fingering || masterbating || different positions || multiple rounds || size kink || cum kink || marking kink || rough sex turned soft sex ||
“Your mission,” Merlin spoke as you handed Eggsy, Roxy, and Charlie. “Is to win over the asset shown in the folder. And when I say win over, I do mean biblically.”
Eggsy smiles, opening and showing off the picture. “Easy. Posh girls love a little rough.”
Charlie scoffed, showing the exact same image. “We’ll see about that.”
Roxy giggled. “We certainly shall.”
“Yep! Mhm, sex! You need to fuck her,” you filled in, Charlie scoffing a slight laugh as Merlin smiled slightly and nodded. “Nicely! She’s an heiress.”
“Yes, Y/N, I’m sure they are aware she is an heiress,” Merlin spoke, a sheepish smile developing on your lips. “Anyways, you will be going to the club-”
“Oh, I love clubbing!” You say, Merlin looking over at you with a slight raise of his brows. “O-Oh I’m sorry… I’ll be quiet now.”
Eggsy smiled slightly as he stared at you, but his stomach twisted slightly at the thought of sleeping with someone else. Eggsy was faithful, he always was no matter what, and to be honest, he wasn’t very excited about sleeping with someone else when he wanted to be sleeping with you – both sexually and when he woke up.
“Anyways, you leave at 2200. Please be ready by then. Y/N, come with me.” Merlin smiled at you as you nod, smiling back.
“Yes, Merlin.”
As you both walked out, Eggsy quickly ran after you before Roxy could say anything. “Y/N! Y/N, wait up!”
“Oh, uhm,” you looked back at Merlin who nodded slightly, walking away as you turned. “What’s up, Eggsy?”
“I-I uhm… just wanted to talk to you real quick,” he whispered, looking back at the other two with a slight sigh. “If uhm… If I don’t go past this session-”
“You will,” you say, giggling. “I’m sure a rough boy like you can handle your liquor. And you’re very loyal too!”
Eggsy paused, tilting his head. “Loyal?”
You froze, humming. “Forget I said that. Anyways. Like you were saying?”
Eggsy cleared his throat, swallowing. “If uhm… I wanted to say that when I sleep with this girl,” he ignored your giggle. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
“I’m aware,” you say with a shrug. “I had to sleep with a pair of guys, but not for the initiation part. The initiation part was actually easier than sleeping with those guys, how are you gonna be a crime lord with a small dick…”
He smiled as you continued to ramble off, his eyes slowly trailing over your pretty face all the way down to your tight clothes and perfect body, round and soft in every perfect place, and the thought of having your thighs around his head truly was a dream.
“Oh, I am so sorry… you had a question, what was it?” You tilted your head, smiling at him.
“I-I uhm… I just wanted to ask if after this session… if you would want to go out with me? On like… a real date?” He whispers, tilting his head slightly as you gaped at him.
“R-Really? You want… you want to take me out on a date?” You whisper, eyes narrowing. “Why? I have nothing to do with the choosing process.”
“I’m not trying to get points for the choosing process,” Eggsy clarified immediately, taking a step closer toward you. “I just… I want to take you out to see if we could… go out together as a couple.”
You paused, swallowing. “Oh…” you looked back at Merlin who was tapping on his tablet, then turned around with a nod. “I would like that. I would like that very much.”
“You would? Good. Good, perfect,” he smiled widely as you inhaled, smiling. “Go. I’m sure Merlin needs something important.”
You smiled, nodding as you leaned forward and pressed a firm kiss to his cheek. “I can’t wait.”
Eggsy smiled widely as you walked off, turning around to see Charlie and Roxy staring at him. “Did you just ask Y/N out on a date?” She spoke, tilting her head. “Really?”
You didn’t have a code name because there was no point. You were already known to the world, Princess Y/N who was the face of her kingdom, perfect in every way, though slightly naive – it didn’t make one bit of a difference to Eggsy. He truly, truly wanted to see how far he would get with you, and just maybe he would get you to the altar.
Right when they were about to leave, Eggsy noticed you in the corner, staring at yourself in the mirror as you flattened out the sides of your dress. For fucks sake, you looked absolutely stunning. Perfect in every way, the dark blue dress pooling at the floor as you slowly turned in the mirror.
He wasn’t used to seeing you in such a dark color, but you looked just as beautiful in it as you did any other color.
He couldn’t speak for a minute, but when it finally came to mind, all he could say was, “Wow.”
You looked over immediately, smiling as you walked toward him, heels clicking. “Going undercover,” you whisper, then shrug. “Kind of.”
“Well, I wish you luck,” Eggsy whispered back, trying to keep his eyes on yours and not trail over your body like a pervert. “You look… so beautiful.”
“Thank you, Eggsy, really,” you smiled back at him as he looked down at his clothes, completely underdressed compared to you. “You look great too.”
“You don’t have to lie, love,” he laughed slightly, embarrassed. How could he think a pretty girl like you would want to be with him? “W-Well… good luck on your mission. I’ll see you later, yeah?”
“I could come to the barracks tonight,” you suggest, shrugging. “It’ll just be you and someone else anyways. I’ll bring you to my room.”
Eggsy smiled. “That sounds perfect, Y/N. Good luck, I’ll see you later.”
“See you, Eggsy.” You smiled as he leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before slowly turning around and walking off.
After he finished his initiation sequence, he waited in the barracks, reading a book as he slowly stroked JBs back, waiting for you to come in and take him back to your apartment for the night.
“Eggsy? Are you waiting for Y/N?” Roxy spoke, Eggsy looking up with a slight sigh.
“I was, yeah,” he whispered, shaking his head. Tomorrow was his day with Harry, and he couldn’t have thoughts of you interrupting it. “But I’m going to go to sleep now.”
“Oh, okay. Goodnight, Eggsy.”
“Goodnight, Rox.”
When morning came and Eggsy walked toward Harry who was speaking with Merlin, he inhaled as he heard your name on the TV. “Princess Y/N has been missing for three days now, gone and we haven’t been able to locate her since.”
“Y-Y/N’s missing?” His voice came out broken and hoarse, Harry turning around with a slight sigh.
“She didn’t come back from her mission last night,” Merlin says, shaking his head. “Y/N is a strong girl, she can handle herself. Now, go enjoy your day and we’ll keep looking for her.”
Oh, and then everything stacked up. With you missing, Harry being fucking murdered, figuring out that Arthur was with Valentine the entire time, he was so fucking tired. Now, about to die from Valentines dumbass soldiers, he couldn’t stop thinking about you — until the microchips came to mind.
After telling Merlin about the microchips, he could’ve sworn he heard your voice.
“Eggsy! Eggsy, is that you?!”
He quickly turned around, at this time ignoring the announcement that Valentine said and storing it for later, gasping when he saw you. “Y/N! You’re here!”
“Yes I’m here!” You giggled, sighing. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t come back and-”
“Don’t worry about that now, darling, what matters is that you’re safe,” he smiled as you leaned forward, pushing yourself closer to the opening, Eggsy doing the same before he heard Merlin’s voice.
“Hate to interrupt this lovely moment, but the fate of the world is about to be decided, Eggsy!”
Eggsy sighed as he pulled away, shaking his head. “As much as I’ve always wanted to kiss a princess, my darling, but I have to go save the world.”
You smiled, giggling. “You save the world, you can get me pregnant.”
Eggsy paused, blinking before nodding slightly. “I’ll be right back.”
You laughed, biting your lip slightly as he ran off. “Good luck!”
And as soon as he said his wicked last line to Valentine, he was already running to your cell and tried to open the door. He heard your laugh when it didn't open, clearing his throat. “Merlin, what’s the code?”
Merlin laughed and told him, Eggsy smirking as he slipped off his glasses and slowly walked in, holding back a loud groan when he saw your legs spread and your fingers working your cunt as you groaned loudly. “Fucking finally Eggsy, what took you so long?”
He laughed as he set down the champagne and the champagne flutes on the table, slipping off his tie before you pull your fingers out of your cunt and quickly moved to your feet, stumbling slightly before falling into his chest. “Are you alright, darling?” He laughed slightly as you giggled.
“Yes, I’m fine. Just… need you. So bad. Gotta hold up my end of the deal,” you tilted your head, winking up at him with another giggle. “You gotta put a baby in me, Unwin.”
He groaned loudly as he easily lifted you up, moving you back to the bed and dropping you gently onto the bed. He watched as you quickly parted your legs, sighing as Eggsy kicked off his shoes – carefully of course – taking off his suit before you leaned forward and held his tie. “Keep this on.”
“Whatever you say, princess,” he whispers, slipping his button down off from under his tie that you immediately took hold of and pulled him down. He leaned down, kissing you and savoring your lips on his as you moved your legs to wrap your legs around his waist. “For fucks sake, never thought I’d be kissing an actual princess.”
You giggled as he pushed down his slacks, pulling him down for another kiss and rutting your hips into his. “Oh please, please… just forget about the fact that I’m a princess and just fuck me. Not like a prince, I need that roughness.”
“Whatever you say, darling,” he whispers back, smiling as he watches you slowly lay back. “Are you sure you want it rough? Darling, I-”
“I’m a princess, Eggsy, just not one made out of glass,” you whisper back, smiling. “Fuck me, Eggsy, hard.”
Oh, you truly didn’t have to tell him twice.
He was quick to snap his hips into you, groaning loudly as your head tilted back, leaning down to tuck his face under your chin. His hips moved rough and quick, fucking into you like he was infatuated. In a way, he was, his mind blurring in pleasure as moans unconsciously fell from his lips, your cunt tight and perfect around him.
His cock was perfect inside of you, just the right length but heavy on the girth, thick and filling you up just right and absolutely fucking perfect. You gasped as you tilted your head back, savoring the feeling of him inside of you. Even with his strong and rough thrusts, he was still holding himself back, and you could feel it every time he held back from slamming his pelvis into yours.
It makes you take matters into your own hands, easily pushing him over and straddling his hips. “I said that I want rough Eggsy,” you whisper, placing your hands on his perfectly toned chest, roughly rolling your hips as you threw back your head. Oh, it was finally perfect. You could feel him in all of the places you desperately wanted him to be, letting out a loud groan as you rut your hips roughly into his. “I don’t want you to hold back, please, Eggsy.”
He groaned, his head tilting back just like yours, his hands automatically finding your hips to help guide you into his hips. Sadly, they were trying to get you to go slower. “Fuck, darling, don’t do this to me. I don’t want to hurt you, please baby-”
“I want it to be rough,” you responded, gasping as his hips roughly snap into yours. It was perfect, just like you wanted to, but it was a singular movement. “No! Eggsy please, please don’t stop!”
“Fuck, please… please, you need to tell me if I hurt you. Promise?” His voice was breathless as you nod, pulling his hands upward toward your tits.
“I promise. Just fuck me, Eggsy.”
This time he really didn’t hold back, immediately twisting you to lay on your back, inhaling as he snapped his hips forward to fuck you, rough and hard just like you wanted him to. He didn’t hold back, his hands holding your hips roughly. Oh, it was perfect and everything you wanted.
He was rough just like you wanted him to be, your body bouncing along with every thrust, head tilting back with pornographic moans falling from your mouth. The way you were being fucked was as though Eggsy was never given the chance to let loose, using your body as a way to escape.
His roughness wasn’t subjected to just his thrusts, leaning down and marking up every inch of your skin with hickies and bite marks from his mouth, his rough hands rubbing and gripping your body. You were basically sobbing when he was done, not even done as he panted above you, his cum dripping down your ass as he pumped his cock.
“Can I keep going, baby? Please, darling? I want to keep fucking you, want to fuck you so bad,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss against your ear. “Please?”
“I want you to keep going,” you didn’t care how sore you were, how full your stomach was of his cum. You felt sticky, gasping as he slid back inside of you, rolling his hips softly instead of what he was previously doing. “N-No, no, roughly. Rougher. Please.”
“You’re sure you can handle it?” His voice wasn’t taunting you, his lips pressing soft kisses to your skin. “I like having you covered in me. Smothered in me, full of me. Want all of you, and you need all of me. But I can’t give it to you if it’s gonna hurt you.”
“You won’t hurt me,” you whispered back, shaking your head as you kissed his lips softly. “You could never hurt me. Keep going.”
He smiled, nodding. “Whatever you say, your majesty.”
You giggled, shaking your head. “It’s your highness. I’m not queen yet.”
“You’re almost there,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Your majesty.”
“There you go.”
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𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒
pairing: jack daniels x f!reader
genre: smut, minors dni
word count: 2.5k
summary: jack comes back home only to find you in a compromising position.
warnings: established relationship, female masturbation, getting caught, nipple play, pet names (darling, sweet/good girl, sweetheart), no y/n, bondage (i have dreams about that whip, i had to), edging, piv, come eating, some hurt/comfort vibes towards the end
additional warning: alright since I know not everyone can do this physically I'll just say it here just in case; reader does suck her own breast before jack catches her but there are no physical descriptions other than that, enjoy xx
a/n: this ended up being more filthier than I thought please don't look at me, my period is close
**divider by @firefly-graphics 💗
God, you missed him.
You missed the feel of his rough hands coursing down your skin. His soft plush lips going hungrily down your neck. His words laced with something dark and sweet whispered into your ears over and over again.
Jack has been gone for just a week and from what he’d told you, he might be gone for another week. You’ve been counting the days, waiting for the phone to call every night at 7 pm. He could hear the need in your voice, the ache. Jack had a sinful mouth. A mouth that could make the devil itself blush. Dolly enough you felt the tremors of hic vocal cord even more through the speakers, his hushed tone urging you to move your fingers faster, to bury them into the sweet pussy that he was missing around his cock.
You shiver at the thought of it.
You aren’t proud of your position right now. Your legs bare and spread, fingers drawing slow circles as you lift a breast to your mouth, ignoring the crick in your neck you suck. Your nipple hardens between the gentle bite of your teeth, a moan seeping into the flesh with the flick of your tongue. It shouldn’t feel this good. Despite being alone you feel embarrassed. How can you not? But in your defense, as you do it, you only think of him. His mouth, his tongue, his lips. You release the tight grip of your lips and flatten your tongue against the peak, your hot breath catches against the spit-slick skin, a whimper echoes from the back of your throat.
The familiar heat of your orgasm starts to build, it’s a slow climb, one that makes you raise your hips off the bed to meet the tantalizing brush of your fingers. Your eyes flutter closed and you drag your tongue around your nipple, gently biting into it.
“Jack,” you breathe out, unfiltered. “God, Jack, it feels so good.”
You don’t hear the door, you don’t hear the familiar steps nearing the bedroom.
You don’t hear him.
“What’re you doin’?”
You freeze. Your building orgasm dies between your legs, your fingers hovering helplessly above your throbbing clit. Your body screams, muscles grow taut and uncomfortable. Gently, you rock your hips forward and hope he doesn’t notice. Your eyes might be wide but you’re not looking at him. You can’t. His gaze is like hot iron pressed against your already burning skin. Your lungs shake.
You swallow, your answer comes out broken, “Nothing.”
“Really? Nothin’?” he steps closer, head cocked to the side. There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, one that makes you squeamish. “Seems like to me you have a tit in your mouth darlin’. I wouldn’t exactly call that nothin’.”
“I—” You pull your hands away and draw your knees up to your chest. His eyes drop to your burning core, hunger dilating his pupils. “I missed you,” you mutter, not knowing what else to say.
“Oh, I can see that.”
The bed dips under his weight, two fingers curl under your chin, and pull your gaze away from the spot on the wall. Your lips part when you meet his gaze, your body warming and melting like ice cream left under a summer shadow. His smile is crooked, his eyes growing soft the longer they stay on you.
“I wanted to surprise you,” he says. “That’s why I’m home early. But really, you should’ve just called me sweetheart, I would’ve loved to help you out. You know that.”
He removes his hat, exposing a messy mop of dark hair that curls right above his ears. A smile touches your lips. “I know that, it kinda happened spontaneously.”
Jack cups the underside of the breast that was still wet from your tongue. He slightly lifts it, weighing it under his palm.
“I liked you callin’ out to me. Definitely helps the ego.”
You don’t answer, only watch with a hungry gaze of your own. His eyes are fixed on the rise and fall of your chest, sliding his hand up, he swipes a thumb over the sensitive peak.
Heat drips down your spine, gathers at your tailbone, and warms you from the inside out. Your lips are pressed together when he pinches, your moan caught against your teeth. His grin is wicked, devilish.
“I wanna play with you, sweetheart,” his grin widens when your breath catches in your throat. He leans forward, lips only an inch away, breath hot across your skin. “Will you be good for me?”
Your sense of time and space has been completely destroyed by the man underneath you, his hips pressed snug against your own, lips latched on your collarbone. He sucks and bites, pulling you apart with nothing but his mouth. You want to touch him—Oh, how your body aches for it. To wrap your hands around his thick cock and pump him until strings of come drip down your knuckles.
But you can’t.
You fucking can’t.
The leather of the whip digs painfully into your wrists, your skin feeling raw and open. Every time he forces your hips into an agonizingly slow grind, the thick handle hits the soft curve of your ass with every move. And the most painful part, the part that makes you wetter than you’ve ever been—he’s not inside of you. His cock drags between your soaked folds, bulbous head catching your clit every time. A generous amount of precum is gathered at the soft swell of his stomach, trickling down to the sheets. He must be painfully hard at this point but he’s still going. He feasts upon your chest, tongue swirling and pressing hard against your nipple while his hand kneads the flesh from underneath.
It’s too much. Your head spins, a desperate sound twisting through you. His chuckle vibrates through your skin and he slides a hand up the back of your neck, fingers curling.
You’re shaking now. Trembling. Burning.
He kisses along your collarbone, wet lips leaving shiny streaks, his voice all gravel. “You know,” he purrs. “When I saw you like that, the desperation you had for me. . .” he cuts off, pressing his lips to yours and licking himself deep into your mouth before continuing. “I wanted to fuck you right that second, darlin’. Nearly lost all control. You drive me insane.”
“The feelings mutual,” you gasp, grinding down on him. His thighs tighten underneath you, a groan leaving his lips. “So why don’t you just fuck me. Please, Jack, I need you.”
“You need me, hm?” he smooths your hair, kisses your cheek. It’s incredibly tender compared to the tight grip his whip has on your wrists. Your back arches instinctively, pushing more of yourself into his hands. “I could keep you like this for hours. Just like this, writhing on my lap, beggin’ for me, achin’ for me. I’m very tempted you know? I did say I wanted to play.”
A whimper scratches your throat. Your head drops to his shoulder and you find solace in the crook of his neck. His scent fills your lungs, gunpowder, leather, and the earth itself. Safe. So safe. You kiss him, drag your lips across the tender skin, leaving goosebumps. His hands move to your arms that are tied behind, his nails skimming down until fingers curl around the knot of the whip.
“We can play,” you whisper, kissing him again. “I just want to make you happy.”
“You do,” he answers quickly. You can almost hear the frown in his voice. “Of course you do. You’re my sweet girl, you always make me happy.”
Jack’s fingers start working the knot, you quickly pull back, “Don’t remove it,” you blurt out. His brows raise with amusement, a toothy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Cheeks burning you look away, “I want you to fuck me like this,” you utter with a jutted bottom lip.
“God, I need to be inside you,” he drawls, accent thick, and everything in you grows taut. “Been jerking myself almost every night thinkin’ about this sweet pussy.”
“Really?”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” he smirks, helping you raise to your knees. “You’re not the only one with a vivid imagination.”
Jack positions his length against you, his fingers biting into your waist, watching the slow fall of your hips. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, biting painfully. You’re quick to move, dragging your nose down his, you lick at his mouth and urge him to release the abused flesh. He does so with a breathy moan, hips stuttering deeper into you as you suck it between your own lips, easing the pain of his bite.
He takes your neck in his hands, thumbs caressing over the sensitive skin of your throat. His touch grows more insistent as he continues to trace circles and feathery touches up your jaw and around your ear and back down again. You hear him groan, deep and low, sending thrills through your body.
Jack shifts his hips up into you, pushing himself closer to the entrance of your heat. He traces the curves of your body, pressing against you with every inviting motion. You can feel every inch of him pressing firmly inside of you. You groan at the stretch, you’ll never get sick of this. Never get sick of the feeling of being so full. He hooks a finger into one of the loops of the whip and pulls you down, hips flush against his. Your lungs convulse, breath hitching, pleasure burning you from the inside out. Your lips drop open and he shoves his tongue inside, ravaging your mouth and swallowing your cries.
He guides the jump of your hips, snapping his hips at the same time you drop yours. Tears blur your vision, overwhelmed. Jack’s gaze is fixed on where you two connect, watching his cock disappear into the tight fist of your cunt. His movements grow harder and more aggressive, pushing you to your limits. His breath tangles with yours, his hands alternately caressing and holding tight to your wrists while his hips rotate into you. The room is filled with the sounds of rugged breaths.
“Atta girl. That’s it, feels good don’t it?”
“So good,” you say hoarsely, rolling your hips. “Don’t stop.”
Jack fully laughs at that, it’s boisterous and loud, a small smile of your own makes its way to your lips. You would’ve laughed too if it wasn’t for his cock sliding in and out of you, a shudder rolls down your spine. He quiets down, eyes gazing deep into your own.
“Oh sweetheart,” he says, voice dropping into something dangerous. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
He moves inside you, pushing himself faster and deeper. His thrusts become more powerful, almost urgent as he works to take you to the brink of ecstasy. His hands reach for your wrists, tightening their embrace and pinning you down to him, hammering up into you. All your focus narrows on the feeling of him. Heat builds between your thighs, cock drilling into you without hesitation.
Finally, as the intensity builds to its peak, Jack's thrusts become almost frantic, and with each movement, waves of pleasure ripple through your body, leaving you gasping for breath. You’re both lost in each other.
Your moans become louder and higher pitched as he drives himself ever deeper into you. You feel his velvety hardness pulsing inside of you, his hands grasping tightly—and he breaks you.
Your entire body jerks, every fiber of your being coming to a sudden halt only to come back alive again. You think you cry out his name but your mouth is dry, your throat sore. He hisses at the way you squeeze him tight, your walls pulsing and gushing around him. You press your nails into your palms and a moment later Jack forces your hands open, the sharp ends finding purchase above his hands instead.
“That’s it,” he sings his praise. “I got you, sweetheart, you feel so good, so fuckin’ good.”
Jack withdraws slightly, still deeply embedded within you, before gently pushing you back down on the mattress. Your shoulders ache at the pressure yet you welcome it, pleasure still heavy in your veins.
“I wanna come over your tits, darlin’,” he nips at your chin. “Is that okay?”
With a moan, you nod. You manage to push yourself up, capturing his lips in a quick kiss before you fall back down again. He smiles down at you, eyes shining.
Your eyes grow wide at the sight of him, strong body straddling your stomach, his flushed cock in his fist. He strokes himself, thumb swiping the slit as he pushes the head against the swell. Jack groans at the added pressure, gently rocking his hips. Slick trickles down from your core, forcing a shudder up your spine. Jack’s breathing goes ragged, eyes finding yours as his chin drops with a moan rattling his chest.
He spills himself between your breasts, he grinds helplessly against them, cock twitching and throbbing as his come lands on your chest, throat, and chin. Your tongue slips from between your lips by instinct, sadly you can’t reach the traces of him.
“Fuck,” he rasps, deftly bending over. He leaves you short of breath as he cleans you up with his mouth, licking himself clean off your skin. “Come here,” he utters, holding you by the shoulders and pressing your mouths together. He slips his tongue between your lips along with the remnants of himself. You groan at the taste. Bittersweet. Filthy. You swallow him down, tongue searching for more. “Greedy little thing,” he mutters between breaths.
His kiss lingers for a moment until finally, he pulls away and smiles. Then, once again, your surroundings shift. You find yourself buried in his chest, your arms and legs angled awkwardly.
“Let me get you out of this,” he says, untying you. “And then let’s shower, put some ointment over these marks.”
You hear a hint of remorse at the end, brows furrowing, you cradle his face between your sweaty palms. With smushed cheeks, he gives you a confused look.
“I wanted this, Jack,” you say clearly. “Don’t feel bad.”
“I don’t,” he grunts. When you give him a look he relents. “I don’t, really,” he tenderly touches your wrists and gathers your hands between his own. “I enjoy it but I can’t help feelin’ a bit bad. It just happens.”
“Come’re.”
You pull him into a tight embrace, ignoring the soreness of limbs and burns. Jack buries his nose in your neck and inhales you, deep breaths raising goose bumps over your skin. Your fingers snake into his hair and you gently scratch his scalp, he hums, laying a kiss on your shoulder.
“You take plenty of care of me. Just know that, okay?” his arms tighten around you. “Feel what you’re feeling but just now that I’m happy and satisfied.”
“Okay,” he swallows, pulling away from you. “Now let’s get cleaned.”
By the time you both climb into the bath, you’re both smiling, giggling (more so you rather than Jack), and briefing each other about all the things that happened while Jack was away.
#jack daniels x reader#jack daniels x female!reader#jack daniels x fem!reader#jack daniels x you#agent whiskey x f!reader#agent whiskey x you#agent whiskey x reader#kingsmen golden circle#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters
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buckles and barley {new series masterlist}
Fandom: Kingsmen - The Golden Circle
Pairing: Rancher! Jack Daniels x Ranchhand! Reader
Summary: You seek out a secluded ranch outside the city limits at the behest of your ill father. In search of one of his old friends he had lost contact with after returning from a deployment and a catastrophic fallout. But instead you find the charming, dedicated, and rather handsome son of the man who had already passed, Jack Daniels. A night of bonding over the iron wills of your fathers and you find yourself falling into bed with him, only to be called away by the hospital that your father had been rushed too.
Devastated but free from the ties of your former life, you return to the ranch a changed woman. With the help of a man who holds his own grief, you learn how to tend to the horses and maintain the land. Together, you dance around each other as the seasons change. Cultivating a life that you never envisioned for yourself.
Wordcount: undetermined
Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, death of a loved one, strained family dynamics, grief, implied verbal abuse, implied anger issues, allusions to past relationships, reader finds herself, reader takes control of her life, minor injuries, accident prone reader, allusions to infidelity, miscommunication, pining, mutual pining, protective jack, adult content, sexual content, smut, p in v, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), more to be added as the story develops!
A/N: excited to delve into this once {by the grit of sandpaper} is concluded. will be doing a little bit of a different approach with this one, it's a new pedro character for me and i wanted to try writing a majority of this one before i begin posting to help establish a solid posting schedule!
ao3 link || navigation || main masterlist || ko-fi
sneakie peek || fic teaser || chapter one header
#dev writes#fic: buckles and barley#kingsmen golden circle#kingsmen secret service#kingsmen golden circle fanfiction#jack daniels#jack daniels x reader#jack daniels x you#rancher! jack daniels#jack daniels smut#jack daniels fanfiction#jack daniels fanfic#agent whiskey#agent jack whiskey daniels#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey x you#agent whiskey smut#agent whiskey fanfiction#ao3#archive of our own#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction
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flirty whiskey hopelessly in love with a shy reader
AWwwWWWw, okay bb
Sorry this took so long babes-
Also, I'm soo using the quote in this-
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You sat at the bar as you watched your friends dance with random men, nursing a blue Hawaiian. Now, most people would be lonely sitting by themselves while their friends had fun without them, but you? You loved it.
People watching was one of your favorite hobbies. Seeing people all dressed up and dancing, having the time of their lives after a long day made you really happy. It was almost like watching a live show.
And your favorite character of the night was sitting in the corner, sipping on what seemed to be a whiskey on ice. You've been watching him since you got here, and you were honestly shocked he hadn't noticed your staring yet.
"Hey!" Your friend said as she hugged you; though it was more of her draping her body on top of yours than anything.
"Hey, what are you doing?"
"I'm tired. And I wanted to see you!" She sat on the seat next to you, asking the bartender for another shot of tequila.
You nodded, taking another sip from your drink. You glanced back at the corner of the room where the man had been sitting, noticing his disappearance.
You were honestly disappointed. Maybe in another lifetime you would've asked him out, or at the very least asked him for his name, but sadly, that would never happen in this one.
"My god, you have got to be the prettiest woman I've ever seen." A man said from behind you, a deep Southern accent evident in his tone.
You assumed he was talking to your friend, honestly used to it at this point.
"What's a handsome man like you doing here?" Your friend said, twisting her hair around her finger as she looked up at him, batting her eyelashes.
The man cleared his throat. "Respectfully ma'am, I wasn't talking to you."
You glanced behind you, making direct eye contact with the man from the corner. Shit-
You quickly turned your head back, staring down at your drink.
"Ugh, whatever, I've gotta piss anyway." Your friend said with a sigh, slightly slurring her words.
"I thought you wanted to go home?" You grabbed her hand, looking at her with panic in your eyes. Please don't leave me alone right now.
"Umm, no?" Your friend tugged her arm away, storming off towards the bathrooms, obviously offended.
"This seat taken?" The man asked, gesturing to the newly available seat.
You silently shook your head, keeping your eyes down.
"I'm Agent Whiskey, but you can call me Jack."
Agent? You wondered which agency he worked for. There had to be a million in Texas.
You responded with a simple nod.
Whiskey sighed, leaning in a bit closer. "Don't be shy, sugar. I saw you starin'."
Your eyes snapped up to look at him; so he had noticed?
Whiskey huffed out a laugh. "What? You thought I wouldn't notice a pretty girl starin' at me like that all night?"
"I'd hoped not." You mumbled, picking at a hang nail on your thumb.
Whiskey stood up, resting his arms on the bar as he leaned in close, his mouth ghosting over the shell of your ear. "Listen here baby, how would you like to ride home on a real cowboy? I've got a six pack on ice and my roomies out all night, so you can scream my name as loud as you need to, sugar."
Chills ran down your spine as blood rushed to your cheeks, your thighs squeezing together. "Excuse me?" You looked up at him, the smirk he had making it hard to maintain eye contact.
"You heard me. So, what'll it be, sugar? I ain't got all night."
"I don't know-"
"Hey now, don't listen to this." He said, gently poking your head. "But listen to this." Whiskey set his hand on your knee, slowly dragging it up your thigh.
You grabbed his hand, not enough to stop it, but enough to make you feel like you were in control. You were conflicted; the logical side of your mind was screaming for you to run away as fast as you could, but your heart?
Your heart was beating a million miles an hour and was practically begging for you to say yes.
"What about my friends? I can't just leave them."
"You didn't see them 'em slip out the door not even five minutes ago?" Whiskey asked, jabbing his thumb behind him towards the door.
"What?" You glanced around the room, your 'friends' nowhere in sight. "What the fuck." You mumbled, throwing back the rest of your drink.
"So?" Whiskey asked, moving a strand of your hair behind your ear.
You looked up at him, a beautiful shade of crimson painted on your cheeks. Fuck it.
You sighed. "Okay."
#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey#agent whiskey fanfiction#jack daniels x reader#jack daniels#jack daniels fanfic#kingsmen golden circle fanficton#kingsmen#kingsmen golden circle#statesmen#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal#jose pedro balmaceda pascal
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Cognitive Dissonance
Pairing: Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x F!Reader "Sugar"
Summary: It's only a bachelorette party. You only have to pretend you're happy, that your life isn't a fake smile and a rocky engagement. It's only Westworld, after all, where you can be whoever you want for a few short hours. And the charming cowboy Jack Daniels is only a host. Isn't he?
Series Word Count: 23.7k
Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), some light D/s themes, Jack needs his own warning because his mouth is a weapon, slight dubcon if you squint and think hard about it, major infidelity themes, some liberties taken with how Westworld works.
Original commissioned artwork by @miranhas-art. If you are interested in working with the amazingly talented Mari, please head to her Tumblr page or check out if her commissions are open. While this art depicts the reader in a finite way, the character is written without descriptions of physical attributes. You are the reader, the reader is you, and this is one possible version of that for me.
Notes: Welcome to my Westworld Whiskey story! After ages of teasing this concept, I am finally releasing it. This takes place in Season 1, around Episode 6: The Adversary. I'm taking some liberties with how Westworld works, but we should all have a good time because of it.
There are major themes and acts of infidelity in this work, so if this isn’t your cup of tea scroll along friend!
Warnings are marked at the beginning of each chapter.
Chapter 1: Never Realized I’d Been Here Before
Chapter 2: But Then I Saw Her
Chapter 3: On My Darkest Day She Helped Me
Chapter 4: Perhaps This Life Was Not My True Life
Chapter 5: This World Was Not My True Home
Chapter 6: But She Was
Chapter 7: Take My Heart When You Go
Chapter 8: Take Mine In Its Place
Cross-posted on AO3
Chapter titles are taken from Akecheta's monologue in Season 2, Episode 8 "Kiksuya."
Cognitive dissonance theory postulates that an underlying psychological tension is created when an individual’s behavior is inconsistent with his or her thoughts and beliefs. This underlying tension then motivates an individual to make an attitude change that would produce consistency between thoughts and behaviors.
The story continues in Decoherence
Join my Taglist!
#jack daniels fanfic#jack whiskey daniels x reader#jack daniels x reader#jack whiskey daniels x f!reader#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey x female reader#agent whiskey x you#jack daniels x you#westworld fanfiction#kingsmen golden circle fanfiction#whiskey & westworld series#prolix fics
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One of Us
A Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated/Mystery Skulls Crossover
<Prev
Chapter 23
Hellbent
“Shitshitshit- LEWIIIISSS!!!” Arthur shouted from the driver’s seat! He turned the steering wheel frantically to and fro as he struggled to regain control of the van careening across the desert. The squealing wheels sent orange dust flying, shrouding the monstrous cattle around them in clouds of ginger. And that same dust invaded the open back of the vehicle, even as the corpse of the dead skull cow tumbled out of the back, slamming into its’ brothers behind it, and Vivi Yukino struggled to get the back doors shut once more.
It occurred to Cassidy to help her, but her battered body protested and it was all she could do to keep herself from tumbling out of the back of the vehicle after the beast. The dust was all-encompassing. Every breath burned as it invaded her lungs, and she had to shut her eyes tight to keep the fine particles out of them. She held on tight to her shotgun and to the bars of one of the shelves in the back of the van, struggling to keep herself as still and secure as she could.
Then there was a flash of pink light behind her eyelids. And suddenly, abruptly, unnaturally even, the van lurched to right itself and there came the telltale sound of the back doors slamming shut. Then Cassidy dared take a breath, she realized the air had become clean. Her eyes fluttered open, and the sight that greeted her didn’t make any sense.
The interior of the van had completely transformed. The purple fabric upholstery had been replaced with bright carmine leather, and the rest of the van’s interior, which had previously been oranges and deep reds, was now entirely black with tasteful gothic touches of purple and bright magenta.
And this did not seem to concern the other occupants of the vehicle in the slightest. Vivi leaned back against the now-redwood shelf and breathed a sigh of relief, wiping orange dirt and bits of yellow gore off of her face with a spare towel. (Not that it did any good for the rest of her.) “Thanks, Lewis. Good catch.”
Wait. Lewis! As soon as Vivi said it, Cassidy realized that Lewis was no longer in the van. But again, the Mystery Skulls didn’t look the slightest bit perturbed about this. And no sooner was Angel sitting up to investigate, any question she could have asked was answered with another flash of pink.
“WHAT IN THE GODDAMN-”
“Ah, shit. Forgot about you…” The skeleton that had appeared beside Vivi sighed.
“I- WHAT THE- YOU-” Cassidy stammered, bewildered beyond words.
“This is Lewis,” Vivi said in a complete deadpan. “You met him a minute ago. Long story short he’s my boyfriend, he’s dead but didn’t exactly go anywhere, so now we solve ghost stories… with a ghost.”
“Not even the weirdest thing we have going on here,” Lewis sighed, and in a flare of pink fire that engulfed him from head to toe, the ghost transformed back into a handsome teen in a vest and ascot - with not a speck of dust or gore on him.
“We’re happy to have him with us,” Arthur added from the front seat. “Lewis is a really great guy and you should definitely not be scared of him.”
“The hell I shouldn’t!” Cassidy strongly disagreed.
“Alright then, be scared of him. But ya gotta ask yourself: are you more scared of him or Bessie the murder bull and his five thousand friends?”
And almost on cue there came a particularly loud MOOOO from the Devil’s Herd, still stampeding after them.
Cassidy opened her mouth, but immediately closed it. She pursed her lips, then after a moment she came to a conclusion: “Bessie. Definitely Bessie. Fuck that.” And she began to aggressively brush and flick as much of the blood and chunks off of herself as she could. Vivi handed her a clean towel too, which helped.
“Amen,” Arthur agreed.
Then the dog, who had gone very quiet up until now, spoke up. “Lewis, get ready to open the passenger side door. We’re approaching the hive.”
The atmosphere in the van immediately shifted (except for Cassidy, who was out of the loop and along for the ride), the trap returning to the front of their minds.
༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺
“The trap?” Fred exclaimed with glee.
“Yes Fred,” Cassidy sighed fondly, “the trap.”
“What kind of trap?” He asked, tapping his fingers together and bouncing lightly in his chair, a giant grin on his face.
“A big, crazy, stupidly dangerous trap that I still can’t believe worked,” Cassidy groaned, some of that old anxiety returning just at the memory of it.
“I’mma be totally honest with you: if we didn’t have magic it probably wouldn’t have,” Vivi shrugged.
“Would 100% not recommend for your own investigations,” Mystery agreed.
“-And if you do attempt it for one of your own mysteries, you’d better hope you don’t survive because I will kill you,” Cassidy growled.
Ricky knew that tone. “Fred. She means it!”
But the master trapper was hardly listening. “Less lecturing, more trapping!”
And with another exasperated yet fond sigh, the storytelling continued.
༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺
Cassidy had absolutely no idea what she’d been (quite literally) pulled into, but she was about to find out.
“You have the flare gun at the ready, right Vivi?” Asked Arthur.
“Got em’ right here.”
“And the dynamite?”
“That too.”
“And Lewis? Remember, you have to get out not long after Mystery.”
“Just tell me when,” the ghost said.
“It won’t be long. The hive’s just ahead! Get ready!”
Cassidy craned her neck to look between the two front seats, and she could see them approaching a system of canyons and gorges. They had just entered them when the song on the radio changed to an intense set of crescendoing, pulsing chords.
“Hellbent? Oh Hell yeah! Now this is ‘fuck shit up’ music!” Vivi cheered.
“It really is the best car chase song,” Lewis agreed.
“Easy for you to say,” Arthur gulped. And Cassidy got the distinct impression that there was a story there, but she didn’t exactly have any time to dwell on it. Because that was when the shaking ground beneath the van’s tires began to tremor. “Here they come!” Shouted Arthur!
And that was when Hell poured out of the mountainside. Like a mob of angry ants, the Devil’s Herd came from every cave, crack, and crevice. But instead of driving away, the van turned and began to drive around the perimeter of the hive, stirring it up even more, prompting the cattle to come out after them.
“Lewis! NOW!” The dog shouted! And by itself, the door swung open and the dog leapt out of the van with a flash of red light.
I’ve been Hellbent, baby,
Cassidy shouted after him. “DON’T! DID HE JUST- OH MY GOD!”
Hellbent on lovin’ you all day long,
“Don’t worry about him, Vivi said dismissively. “He’s a professional.”
Hellbent on drugs ‘cause it turned you on,
“-Not to mention he’s more dangerous than anything he’ll find in there,” Arthur added.
Don’t know what else to do,
“But-”
Mmm~
“I’ll tell you what. You want to be helpful? Get in the front seat and start throwing sticks,” Vivi said.
I’ve been Hellbent, baby,
“Alright,” Angel groaned as she heaved herself between the seats and onto the passenger side.
Hellbent on makin’ you love me, too,
Even though not what I’m supposed to do,
I don’t give a damn,
Mmm~
“I’m up here, but I don’t know what you mean by- OHMYGOD!” And Angel had never in her life rolled down a window so quickly as when Vivi Yukino suddenly dropped a lit stick of dynamite into her hand. The BOOM that followed after she threw it brought even more angry cows out after them.
“WHAT IN THE- OHSHIT-” (She chucked yet another stick out the window just as fast as Vivi handed it to her) “-HELL?!”
“We’ve got to get as many of them out of the hive-” BOOM! “-and to the trap as possible!” Vivi shouted over the wind as she took another stick out of a box, held it out for Lewis to light, and passed it to Cassidy - who promptly threw it out the window, much to the displeasure of the cows. “Not to mention the fewer of them are in there, the easier Mystery’s job is.” And as soon as she finished talking there came another explosion as the stick Cassidy had just tossed went off.
Immediately after, over the roar of the wind surging in through the open window, there came a sound from the radio like the cocking of a shotgun, and the song launched itself into a call-and-response verse.
I’ve been hellbent, baby
(I’ve been hellbent, baby)
“Aaand the most effective way to do that-”
It’s been too long, baby
(It’s been too long, baby)
“-is to make them mad,” Arthur added just as loudly as Vivi. But unlike his friends he was sweating bullets and looked even closer to a panic attack than Cassidy.
My eyes wide shut
(My eyes wide shut)
“Well a little bit of damn warning would have been nice!” Cassidy retorted, throwing out yet another stick.
And I feel your touch
(I feel your touch)
“Would love to but we’re on a time crutch,” Vivi disagreed over the resulting BOOM.
I’ll prove you wrong!
(I’ll prove you wrong!)
“Here - this last one should do it. Make it count.”
You make me strong!
(You make me strong!)
Grumbling, Cassidy took the last stick of dynamite and threw it out the window as hard as she could.
I said all I need is, all I need is, all I need is you!
The explosion that followed brought out the biggest swarm yet.
“-Aaand that should do it. Lewis, get us the blazes out of here.”
And as the music carried on into more of those intense beats, Cassidy’s vision was engulfed in blinding pink light and if she could have screamed she would have! It felt as if her battered body was being forcibly sucked through a very long tube. When it finally stopped, the van was a great distance ahead of the herd (but not so far that they weren’t still being chased) and the Mystery Skulls’ attention was on her.
“What the hell just happened?” Vivi demanded from the back seat.
“Oh no - you’re hurt!” Arthur cried.
“No shit,” Cassidy groaned. And she would have said something snarky, but she broke out into coughs and when she took her hand away from her mouth her palm was covered in blood.
“Lewis, did you-”
“She must’ve been more seriously hurt than we thought before we picked her up,” Lewis said. “I’m so sorry - I never would’ve teleported us if I’d realized.”
“S’ fine,” Cassidy gritted out, clutching her even-more-broken ribs and struggling to keep her composure. “I’d already be dead if you hadn’t grabbed me.”
“We’re gonna have to talk about this later,” Vivi said. “And you? You will tell us how this happened. But for now? Lewis, you have to go.”
“Will you be alright-”
“That’s why we have the contingency plan! Now go!”
And in a swirl of pink, he was gone. And not a moment after he disappeared, there was another slurry of pink light across every surface, and everything reverted back to the way it had been before Lewis possessed it.
“How much further to the gorge?” Vivi asked, as if none of that was unusual at all.
“Just ahead! You need to switch places with- uh…” Then Arthur turned apologetic. “Sorry. I don’t think we ever asked for your name.”
“Angel,” Cassidy groaned, already moving back into the back seat.
“Angel- haha. What a coincidence, right?” Arthur said, awkwardly looking away so he didn’t make direct eye contact with Cassidy’s ass as she passed him. “Well- nice to meet you Angel. Sorry if we’ve come across as rude but given the circumstances-”
“Not the time for niceties, baby. Jus’ drive!”
“Yes ma’am.” Arthur said quickly, right as Vivi hopped into the now empty seat beside him. She rolled down the window and the gale that filled the van assaulted Cassidy’s ears, even as Vivi hopped to sit on the window’s edge with her entire upper body outside of the vehicle.
Cassidy, having laid down in the back of the van, felt the terrain beneath the vehicle tilt downhill and Arthur shouted over the wind, “This is the gorge! Fire the first flare!” And distantly, Cassidy heard Vivi fire it with a bang and a loud hiss. Unbeknownst to her, the blue light was visible for miles. Vivi tossed the now useless thing. And right as she was readying the second, the edges of Cassidy’s vision started going dark.
She was vaguely aware of a walkie talkie cutting on, but she couldn’t focus on the words being said. And right as Hellbent was coming to an end with one final dramatic chord, she blacked out.
༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺
“How bad was it?” Ricky asked tensely.
“Wipe that concerned look off your face Ricky, I was fine!” Cassidy waved him off dismissively.
“Internal bleeding is not fine, Cassidy! If we didn’t have magic you may have needed surgery!” Mystery scolded.
“I’m a little lost,” Fred scratched his head. “How did you get hurt?”
“The particle displacement that occurs during magical teleportation isn’t easy on the body,” Lewis surmised. “Basically, in Cassidy’s case, suddenly displacing her weakened, injured body from one place to another worsened the tears in bruised tissue, reopened cuts, and as for her bones? The displacement puts pressure on your entire body at once, so you can only imagine what that does to bones that are already cracked or broken. Imagine if someone has broken ribs, (which Cassidy did) and some asshole walks up and squeezes them around the middle as hard as they can. But on your whole body.”
“Jeepers. I’m glad you’re okay, Cassidy. That must’ve really hurt!” Daphne cried.
“It’s water under the bridge now,” Cassidy shrugged. “If I had a nickel for every time Lewis apologized afterward… But he never would’ve done it if he’d realized I was injured and I’m still glad he did, given that we had the Devil’s Herd right on our heels.”
“How did the rest of the trap go anyway?” Fred asked giddily.
“Long story short,” Vivi explained, “We reached word of the third herd while we were still cleaning up the mess from the second. So before we had set off from there, we harvested an organ from the second queen’s carcass - the one whose head is mounted on our wall. That organ produces highly potent pheromones. That’s how they communicated - like bees.
“We put those pheromones in gas canisters all over the van that continuously released small amounts, which made the cattle think we were another queen. So their instinct was either to destroy us or to take us back to their hive - either way, they’d have to catch us first. So Arthur and I lured most of the skull cattle into a deep gorge, and beyond a certain point the people of Tumble caused a carefully orchestrated rock slide with dynamite to close them in. Then, long before they could dig or climb their way out, Mystery showed up, luring the rest of the herd into the gorge.”
“That was my objective when I leapt out of the van,” Mystery explained with a hint of pride. “My job was to slink through the hive, kill the queen and any of her daughters, rip out her pheromone organ, and use it to lure any skull cattle left in the hive back to the trap with the rest.”
“It’s a shame you missed that bit Cassidy because it was really cool,” Vivi said excitedly. “He jumped right off that cliff and they all followed. Most of them were either dead or close to it when they hit the bottom, save those who landed on the corpses of those who jumped before.”
“Rou jumped?” Scooby exclaimed. “What about the landing?”
“Kitsune are shape-shifters, remember?” Mystery smirked. And in a flash, he transformed into a large white raven and perched on the top of the chair behind Vivi’s head. “I flew- oh. I’m sorry, Ricky. Is this alright?” The kitsune-turned-bird asked, apologetic and concerned.
“Oh- yeah it’s fine,” Ricky said sheepishly, rubbing his eyes and sitting up from where he’d been laying his head on the table. “I think what freaked me out yesterday was that you turned into something too similar to a parrot, and I wasn’t expecting it. But this is alright.”
“‘No parrot-like things.’ I’ll keep that in mind.” Mystery said with a pleased fluff of his feathers.
Then he hopped off of the top of the perch, turned back into a dog, and landed squarely in Vivi’s lap - who couldn’t resist the urge to give him a cuddle. Which, if his wagging tail was anything to go by, had been his plan all along.
“So once they were in the gorge…” Velma prompted.
“The townsfolk poured hundreds of gallons of molten tar down on the cattle,” Lewis said grimly, igniting a single flame on the tip of one finger, “-And I burned them alive.” Monsters as they were, Lewis could still hear their screams. And he felt no satisfaction in their deaths.
“Like, zoinks,” Shaggy gulped.
“Jinkies,” Velma gulped in agreement. “That’s… dark.”
“There were too many of them to euthanize them humanely,” Vivi said sadly. “We tried that in Idaho and it cost us dearly. We didn’t even try in California because the Redwoods were in danger. Not to mention, obviously, all the people and wildlife who were also at risk. Then in Arizona a whole small town was in danger. And like the others, that herd had already caused a lot of damage and killed a lot of people. We didn’t even consider doing it humanely at that point.”
“Good,” Ricky said gravely. All heads turned with their undivided attention. “I can’t even begin to imagine how many people those things hurt. So even if they suffered, it’s better for them to not exist anymore. They never should’ve existed in the first place. God, why did I-”
“Don’t.” Mystery said. His eyes narrowed, flashing red, and his voice was very firm and stern, only to immediately turn gentle. “Come back, Ricky. Turn around. Don’t go down that path. The regrets, the what-ifs, the should-have-dones, the self-loathing. You’ll only drive yourself mad. Believe me… I know.”
Ricky sat back in his chair a bit, sullen, and said no more on the matter. Though everyone could tell, and Ricky knew they could because he could see the concern on their faces, that particular battle wasn’t over just yet. Finally, he could take the silence no longer and put his head on the table, his face hidden in his arms. The table was awfully comfortable. And his eyes were growing so… heavy.
“Cassidy!” Lewis said suddenly, which made everyone jump including Ricky, who quickly sat up and ran his hands over his face. (This went unnoticed by everyone except Mystery.) “Now you need to tell them what happened after you woke up.”
And that made Mystery stiffen. Ah, yes. That.
“Why? What happened after you woke up?” Fred asked.
“This one damn near gave me a heart attack and killed me, that’s what!” Cassidy shouted, jabbing an accusatory finger at Mystery. The “dog” batted his eyes and innocently looked away as if he had no idea what she was talking about, except he was also smirking as if to say, ‘I did it and I’ll do it again!’
“Why am I not surprised?” Velma said dryly.
“Oh they didn’t tell ya’all shit,” Cassidy laughed. “Just wait until you hear what the first damn thing out of his mouth was!”
༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺
When Cassidy awoke, the first thing she registered was the pain. Her whole body protested with either stiffness, discomfort, or jabs that came with every little movement and adjustment. Next came sound - the hustle and bustle of movements and voices all around. Then the dry heat of the desert that clung to her skin, and the coarse, stiff bedding beneath her back. Then, finally, she blinked her eyes open.
The light was dim and orange. Late afternoon sunlight just permeating the tent’s fabric above her head. Cassidy turned her head to and fro, taking in her surroundings. She was laid on a pop up cot with a very thin mattress inside of what appeared to be a medical tent. The other beds were empty, a monitor stuck to her arm kept track of her vitals, and a fan in the corner was trying its best to combat the Arizona heat. Aside from that, she was alone. And she could see her bag sitting on a makeshift bedside table, though her rifle was nowhere in sight.
As what had happened before she passed out came back to her, Cassidy sat up as carefully as she could with a groan. Ghosts, magic, and skull cattle? Were the mysteries not limited to Crystal Cove?
Careful not to jostle herself too much, Cassidy reached over, pulled her bag over into her lap, and started digging around looking for her weapons and to check that all of her stuff was there. Surprise surprise, her pistol, shotgun, mace, and knives were all missing. As were her notes and files on the Mystery Skulls.
Just then, Cassidy’s head snapped up at the sound of someone entering the tent, and Arthur Kingsmen jumped when they locked eyes. “Oh! You’re awake! It was… Angel, right?”
“Yeah. That’s right. And you’re Arthur Kingsmen, synth player of the Mystery Skulls. And… also a monster hunter apparently,” Cassidy said with a groan as she hefted her bag back onto the table. There wasn’t a single thing in there she could use at the moment anyway.
“Yep. That’s me,” he smiled and rubbed the back of his head, an embarrassed blush coming across his face that reminded her painfully of Ricky.
Three kids and a talking animal… could there be a fourth? Even if there isn’t it’s too close to be a coincidence but there’s just no way…
Just then, Vivi popped her head into the tent. “Hey Artie, how’s- Oh! You’re up!” Vivi Yukino said happily. “Hey Lewis! Miss Dynamite is awake!”
Which led the ghost (apparently wearing his human disguise) to stride into the tent after her. “How are you feeling?” He asked.
“Like that skull herd trampled me,” Cassidy said in the least-pained tone she could.
“Sorry,” Lewis said guiltily.
“From what I gather, you didn’t do it on purpose. All the same, I’d say we have a lot to talk about.”
“That’s for sure,” Vivi said. “For starters, let’s properly introduce ourselves. I’m Vivi Yukino. This is Lewis Pepper, and this is Arthur Kingsmen. But you apparently already knew that, Miss… Angel Dynamite?”
“Yeah, that’s my name.”
“No it isn’t.”
Angel whirled around just in time to catch a glimpse of an enormous shadow on the other side of the tent dart out of sight.
“What was that?”
“Mystery…” Vivi warned sternly, but her tone went unheeded as a huge snout forced its way between the Mystery Skulls, followed swiftly by an absolutely gigantic beast.
“SWEET lordy…” A gasp forced its way out of her and as much as every instinct she had was screaming at her, Cassidy found herself frozen in place. Not that, as hurt as she was, she would have been able to do much else anyway. The kitsune’s seven tails fanned out magnificently behind him like the tail of a peacock. Snow white fur was stained and splotched with orange mud and the golden blood of the cows, and when he shook himself speckles of it misted into the air around him. “What- that the hell-?” She asked shakily.
“Angel, this is Mystery,” Vivi said in an even, measured voice. “You’ve actually met him, briefly, in the car before he jumped out.”
“That was a cute little dog!” Cassidy all but shouted. “Not some dog- wolf- fox- whatever-you-are! I- eep!”
Cassidy jumped, shaking, when Mystery abruptly leapt up, his front paws on either side of her body, absolutely towering over her. His red eyes glowed in the dim light within the tent, and the sheer intensity of his glower through his gold spectacles locked all of her limbs in place.
“What’s your name?” The creature asked. And his voice was all-encompassing, reverberating into the deepest parts of Cassidy’s chest in such a way that it shut all of them right up.
“I- it’s Angel Dynamite,” she replied. Panic fluttered in her stomach. Why would he think otherwise?!
“No it isn’t,” he snapped, hackles raised and teeth bared. “I do not know your face as I once did. But if there’s one thing I never forget it’s a smell. Especially one I pursued with such passion as yours. ‘Angel Dynamite?’ Ha! No, that’s the name you had to give yourself. I remember now. That’s what he used to call you, isn’t it?”
Cassidy’s heart seized inside her chest, and the lovestruck face of the boy she’d loved once flashed before her eyes. He knew. He knew! But how? And the other Mystery Skulls didn’t, if the bewildered looks on their faces were anything to go by.
Cassidy nervously swallowed. “You know me,” she said, as evenly as she possibly could. An admission with deniability if ever there was one. But Mystery would not have it.
“What. Is. Your. Name?” He barked. And the force in his tone and the desperation in his eyes was so powerful that she had no choice but to give in.
“... Cassidy Williams,” she admitted quietly.
And at those words his entire demeanor changed. His lips dropped over his fangs in a gasp of awe. The hardness vanished and the tension in his shoulders let out like a deflated balloon. He looked- relieved. So relieved he looked as if he might cry. “You’re alive,” he muttered, disbelieving. But then tearfully, he laughed. “I knew it!”
“You know me,” Cassidy repeated, and he must have heard the fear and confusion in her voice.
“I do,” he said, and his voice had become very gentle. Melancholy, yet fond. Reminiscing. “And you knew me. A version of me, anyway. But you would not remember me. My children and their families, you knew as well,” he said, gesturing to the other three Mystery Skulls. “But that doesn’t matter right now. The others! Ricky, Judy, Bradley. Are they alive as well? Do they still live?”
Cassidy was so flabbergasted by his enthusiasm that it didn’t even occur to her to lie. “They are! They are!”
At that news, Mystery became so excited that it took a whole twenty minutes to calm him down enough for him to tell them a story that Cassidy had only thought was familiar. And for Vivi, Arthur, and Lewis, that revealed wounds so old and so painful that no one around them had ever been able to bring themselves to tell the whole thing - until now.
༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺
Once Cassidy stopped talking, the table fell very quiet.
Then silently, five heads slowly turned to look at the little dog, sitting solemn and silent in Vivi’s lap. And he had that same expression on his face as that day in the desert: Joy and sorrow blended together in a tapestry of painful memories.
Finally, Ricky swallowed the knot in his throat. “... You knew us?” He asked quietly.
And the dog looked right at Ricky and replied, “I did.”
“... H-how?”
“I don’t blame you for not piecing it together yourself,” Mystery said. And his voice was forcibly even as he wrestled his own feelings under control. “A lot has happened in the past twenty-four hours. You all had so much more on your minds.”
“That doesn't answer my question,” Ricky said. And he was forcing himself to stay calm too.
“Do the math,” Mystery said simply. “You disappeared a little over twenty years ago. Vivi, Arthur, and Lewis were all born in Crystal Cove and are all twenty-seven, twenty-six, and twenty-five years old respectively. And their families lived here for some years even before that until they all moved away, almost two years after you left. I am the guardian spirit of the Yukino family. I was here too. Vivi, Lewis, and Arthur were so young they hardly remember Crystal Cove. But me? I remember. And yes, I knew you. I knew your families, your friends, your neighbors. The Yukinos lived not two blocks away from the Owenses. Five from the Williamses. Four generations of Yukinos lived in Crystal Cove, and for all that time I was here too. I was there when Vivi’s parents and grandparents congratulated yours on your birth. Both of your births. Brad and Judy’s too. I watched you grow up. I followed your mysteries - they were the only exciting thing that happened in Crystal Cove back then. And I was there, sniffing in vain around in the brush, when your father and Cassidy’s parents led volunteers to trudge through the caves and waterways with sticks… looking for your bodies.”
That last bit had Ricky’s throat closing and his eyes burning.
Dad…
Ricky and Cassidy both did not like thinking about their families. How much their disappearances must have hurt them. Even now, with the Freak not a threat anymore, neither of them had looked up or approached their families. It had been twenty years. Surely, they had moved on. Surely, showing up now would only hurt them more. And seeing them from a distance without being able to reach out would surely mean only more pain on their end.
“... Why are you only telling me this now?” Ricky asked.
“I did not get to finish my story last night,” Mystery reminded Ricky gently. And, it’s as I keep saying: A lot has happened. There have been other things to talk about. And… I do not mean to diminish your pain when I say this. But would you believe me if I told you that it is painful for me too? Remembering everything that happened back then?”
“Then why don’t I remember you?”
“I was the guardian of the Yukino family. I tried not to get too involved in the lives of humans that were not mine, and it was in my nature to be forgettable. But I think, once reminded, you may yet remember.”
“Then start talking,” Ricky said firmly. “And don’t you dare leave anything out.”
“I will,” Mystery said. “But I believe a more comfortable setting would be appropriate, as it is quite the long story. And I need to get something from my chambers anyway. Vivi, Lewis. Why don’t you lead our guests to the family room? I’ll meet you there.”
“If that’s alright with Ricky,” Vivi shrugged.
And if Ricky had a bit more pep in his step right at that moment, he may have fought it. But at this point, he already felt so exhausted and utterly drained that he simply sighed, “Sure.”
And so, Mystery hopped from Vivi’s lap and skedaddled out of the room, while the humans got up and silently picked up stacks of dishes from breakfast and carried them into the kitchen to be washed later. Then, awkwardly quiet, they followed Vivi and Lewis into yet another unexplored part of the mansion.
Ricky kept quiet, his head swimming, and it was all he could do to keep his eyes trained on Cassidy’s back walking just ahead of him. Her shirt fit her well - he could see her toned muscles and defined shoulder blades shifting beneath the fabric with each step. Beautiful, he thought to himself. Even now, part of him feared that if he took his eyes off of her for too long she’d disappear. Or worse: he’d wake up to find that the miracle of this morning had been nothing but a dream.
As for Cassidy, there were a lot of things that were yet to be explained to her, but for now she was content to hear what Mystery had to say until Ricky was ready to tell her the truth. Some things about the kitsune’s role in Crystal Cove twenty years ago had been explained to her back in Tempo, but she was looking forward to having a lot of gaps filled.
“So like,” Shaggy cleared his throat after a while, “how exactly did you guys know Mystery Incorporated back in the day?”
“Yeah. And why didn’t you mention it before?” Velma asked. Curious - not accusatory.
“Our families knew each other from what I understand,” Lewis said.
“More than knew each other,” Cassidy corrected gently. “After spending some time in Tempo, I managed to find out more than what Mystery told us. Ya’all ain’t gonna believe this: Fred and Vivi are related.”
At that, everyone abruptly stopped walking and turned around. “What?!”
“Wait- how?!” Vivi exclaimed, just as shocked as everyone else.
“What’s your Momma’s maiden name?” Angel asked.
Vivi thought for a second, then smacked herself on the forehead. “Reeves! Of course!”
“I thought Vivi was Japanese,” Fred said, confused.
“Half Japanese, on my Dad’s side,” Vivi corrected. “I mostly take after him, but my Mom is definitely white. Like she is blonde. And- actually, come to think of it her hair is the same yellow as Fred’s. Anyway - all I know is some sides of Mom’s family had lived in Crystal Cove for a very long time. So I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised. How are we related, by the way? Specifically?”
“Your Mom and Judy’s Dad are cousins,” Cassidy explained. “Which makes you and Judy second cousins, and you and Fred are second cousins once removed.”
“Wow. Small world,” Fred said.
“I didn’t even know my Mom had a cousin,” Vivi said.
“They apparently don’t talk much anymore,” Cassidy shrugged. “And Fred and Vivi aren’t the only ones with a connection. I don’t know if anyone else is related, but apparently the Owenses, the Kingsmen, and the Yukinos were pretty tight. But I didn’t hear a lot about how or why that is, apart from that the Yukinos became fast friends with the other two families when they first moved to Crystal Cove, and the Kingsmen and Owens families were friends even before that. Then when my parents moved to Crystal Cove a few years before I was born, the Nocedas and the Peppers were the first to welcome them to the neighborhood, and the Yukinos weren’t far behind.”
“Wait- who are the Nocedas?” Daphne asked.
“My birth parents,” Lewis said quietly.
And a sympathetic silence followed as the eight of them continued on before Vivi pressed through the awkwardness. “Anyway- Arthur, Lewis, and I really couldn’t tell you much about back then. I was only six when the Original Mystery Incorporated disappeared. Arthur was five, and Lewis was four. And we moved away like… a year later? I have a few fleeting memories that are relevant. But they’re mostly glimpses, feelings, or single moments. The adults back home in Tempo who do remember everything only have parts of the puzzle, and even then talking about it has become a sort of unspoken taboo. Mystery has more of the story than anyone else, and even he doesn’t like talking about it. All the hurt that happened in Crystal Cove 20 years ago… a lot of people have either forgotten about it or tried to. But Mystery sure as hell hasn’t.”
“No kidding,” Cassidy agreed.
“It’s frustrating,” Vivi sighed. “Mystery’s become more and more open with us since he first revealed himself as a kitsune and started actually talking to us, but his days as Kit and Koa are the only really important part of his life that he won’t talk about.”
Ricky had been starting to nod off, but something about what Vivi said caught his attention. “His days as what?”
“Those were the names he lived under during his time in Crystal Cove,” Vivi explained. “Throughout his days as a guardian spirit, he’s assumed whatever name the family gives him. Usually during and after a period when he takes the form of some companion animal and decides to live among the family for whatever reason instead of watching over us unseen. He’s been Mystery for a little over eighteen years, if memory serves me right. But before that, he took the form of a border collie and my grandma named him Koa. If you remember him at all, that would be the name and form you knew him by.”
Koa… something about that name rang a bell. Where do I know that name from??? Ugh, it was only nine in the morning, and too much had happened already. What Ricky really wanted to do was lie down and take a nap. But there was still too much to do and too much to talk and think about.
He didn’t ask any more questions, and kept trudging along with the others.
At last, they came upon a spacious yet cozy lounge with dark blue wallpaper and red and orange furniture. Apparently the “family room,” where Mystery had for some reason decided to hold this discussion.
Ricky plopped down on a large, L-shaped couch and leaned back, arms over the back of the couch with his eyes closed, intending to mentally prepare himself. Cassidy spared him a worried look before she sat down on the other line on the “L” beside him. While the kids walked around the room and looked at the pictures.
Only then did it become clear as to why this was known as the “family room.” Because that’s what all of the pictures were of: The Mystery Skulls, along with their families. And quite a few of the older ones, the kids recognized, had been taken in Crystal Cove! They were so busy looking around and asking questions, especially about the pictures that included Vivi’s Mom’s side of the family, that they hardly noticed when five minutes went by. Then almost another five minutes. And right when they were starting to wonder what was taking Mystery so damn long, in the kitsune trotted, looking a bit too pleased with himself, carrying a large book-shaped package in his mouth.
“Apologies for the wait,” the kitsune said a bit too merrily as he set the package down on the coffee table.
“No kidding. What took you so long?” Cassidy asked suspiciously.
“Ah, silly me. I’d misplaced my photo album. I’ve accumulated so many things over the years, you know. I was beginning to fear I’d left it back in Tempo when I found it under my pillow of all places. Imagine that.”
“You’re up to something,” Vivi stated.
“Up to something?” Mystery cried in his most offended possible tone. “Vivi! I am shocked and appalled that this is your opinion of me!”
“Hear that, kids?” Lewis asked. “That’s the sound of bullshit.”
“Yyyep,” Fred agreed.
“Rullshit,” said Scooby.
“‘Bullshit?’ ‘Up to something?’” The Kitsune balked teasingly, “From the way you all talk, you’d think I was some sort of shady vagabond!”
“What. Did you do?” Vivi asked dryly.
“Very well,” Mystery sighed. “But you can’t be mad at me.”
“What. Did you do?”
“Technically,” Mystery said, “I didn’t ‘do’ anything. But… let’s just say that my story is going to have to wait until this evening.”
And right as Vivi was about to demand why, she was cut off by the sound of a soft snore.
Ricky. Had fallen asleep. Right where he sat, leaning back against the couch.
“Ricky?” Cassidy called him and lightly shook his shoulder, but he didn’t so much as stir. “Ricky?”
“No no, don’t wake him,” Mystery said. “I’ve been waiting for this all morning. It was only a matter of time.”
“Why? What’s wrong with him?” She demanded.
“Don’t fret, little Angel. Nothing is wrong. Sleepyhead’s medicine simply hasn’t worn off yet.”
Lewis smacked his forehead. “The sleeping potion! Of course!”
“The what now?” Cassidy cocked an eyebrow.
“Ricky couldn’t sleep last night,” Vivi explained, “So Mystery gave him a potion. He really needed the rest. That’s why he slept in.”
“I told him to go take it right away, or at least I thought it was implied,” Mystery sighed, slightly irritated, “But instead he bumped into Velma on the way back to his room and stayed up for another few hours. Then took it.”
“Okay,” Cassidy said, confused, “That still doesn’t explain…”
“Have you ever taken nighttime medicine?” Vivi asked. “It can be difficult to get comfortable and fall asleep when you’re sick, so a lot of nighttime medications have stuff in them to help their patient sleep. But those medicines are supposed to wear off by morning. So if you take it late and wake up early without the effects wearing off, you feel super lethargic for the first half of the day. The same thing has happened to Ricky, but he took a potion instead of ‘normal’ medicine so the effect is a lot stronger.”
“Poor dear. It’s likely that the only reason he’s been awake as long as he has is due to the stress,” Mystery said. “But with magic, even stress can only hold it off for so long. Then we likely sped it along by feeding him.”
“Like, why by feeding him?” Shaggy asked.
“Eating a big, comfortable meal like that would be enough to make anyone satisfied and drowsy,” Lewis said. “Add a dreamless sleep potion into the mix and it’s no wonder he’s zonked out.”
“Oh for Pete’s- you planned this!” Velma cried accusingly, jabbing a finger at Mystery.
“I did not plan for Ricky to take his medicine late. But just now, did I intentionally have Vivi and Lewis take him to the most comfortable lounge in the house then stall long enough for him to doze off? Yes I did,” Mystery smirked mischievously. “Because I didn’t want to argue with him when I told him he needed to go back to bed before anything else. Just like Cassidy is about to.”
“What- me?” Cassidy snapped.
“You’ve been awake and on-the-move for over twenty-four hours,” Mystery said, bending his neck down to her level. “That, and we won’t urgently need you for anything for another few hours anyway. So yes, Cassidy. The others and I will be going out into Crystal Cove to make some preparations, and in the meantime you and Ricky will remain here. Not that you’ll miss us - we should return at about the same time you wake up - at around 3:00. Five hours still won’t be nearly enough rest but for now we’ll have to take what we can get.”
“The hell I do!” Cassidy stubbornly spat, indignant at the mere suggestion. “I still haven’t-” But mid-sentence, Mystery exhaled a cloud of red smoke in her face. Cassidy abruptly stopped talking, her eyes rolled over, her entire body went slack, and she slumped over on the couch beside Ricky.
With a red flash, Mystery took the form of the man with long black hair he’d shown them last night. Except of course, his seven magnificent tails were still showing from under his kimono and his tall pointed ears were sticking out of his hair on top of his head. Twenty years later and they’re still so adorable, the kitsune chuckled to himself, fondly remembering a time long ago when this very pair of sleepy meddling kids fell asleep on the Yukino’s couch.
“Jeepers! What did you do to Angel?” Daphne cried.
“Just a simple sleeping spell, Daphne. Fear not,” Mystery said dismissively. And gently, tenderly even, he lifted Ricky’s upper body from the back cushion and moved him to lie longways on the couch. “I believe I mentioned that we kitsune have some power over dreams. Which makes us skilled in all sorts of sleep-related magic,” Mystery continued, and he picked up Ricky’s legs from where they hung over the side and put them onto the cushions. “This one will only put her out for a few hours. Assuming I’ve estimated correctly, Ricky should wake up an hour or two before her, but I’m sure he’ll be fine as long as we leave a note explaining things.”
Rolling her eyes, Vivi came up behind him with a couple of blankets as Mystery moved on to Cassidy. “Why did you put Cassidy to sleep?” She asked. “Her needing the rest can’t have been the only reason.”
“I mean, she couldn’t exactly have helped much until this afternoon anyway,” Lewis guessed, scratching the back of his head.
“-But knowing her, she would have tried to regardless,” Mystery added, having now moved Ricky and Cassidy to each lie longways on the cushions. “And when we didn’t let her, as if we could stop her, it only would have bothered her while she waited. So I felt it was best that she sleep until then.” And he took the blankets from Vivi and draped one over each of them.
“Why’s that?” Scooby asked.
“Because,” Lewis announced, a piece of paper magically appearing in his hand, “I went to see Arthur last night, and he has a plan. But he needs our help to pull it off, so we’ve got homework and the deadline is in less than 48 hours.”
“And all of it involves going out into Crystal Cove,” Mystery added. With a flourish, a long ornate gold kiseru pipe appeared in his hand and he began to smoke kizami while he spoke.
Unnoticed by Mystery Incorporated, this caused Vivi and Lewis to spare each other a very worried look. Being a spirit, smoking wasn’t bad for Mystery in the way it is for fully mortal beings. But while it wasn’t harmful for him, he knew second-hand smoke could be bad for humans and that the habit had become increasingly frowned upon in the past few decades. Which meant these days, wanting to set a good example for the younger ones, Mystery never smoked in front of them anymore unless he was extremely stressed about something. In the three years since he’d revealed himself as a shape-shifter, this was only the third time they’d ever seen him do it.
All of this to say, if whatever Mystery was going to have to say about twenty years ago was affecting him this badly, then it was extremely concerning indeed.
“But,” Mystery continued, blowing out a long, beautiful red stream of smoke, “it would be extremely unwise for Cassidy to go into town with us. If she did, she could be spotted on one of Mr. E’s cameras. And if our enemies saw her, then best-case scenario there goes our element of surprise and one of our wild cards. Worst-case scenario, we end up with kriegstaffebots at our door trying to finish what they started.” And as he finished talking, he began blowing lovely red smoke rings as he listened to the others.
“Zoinks! Like yeah, those are good reasons!” Shaggy gulped, his eyes nervously following a trail of smoke that went by his head.
“-Not that they could get into the house anyway if they tried!” Vivi added quickly. “Not with our defenses, remember?”
“Yeah but it’d be annoying. And since we’d be essentially under siege it would become near-impossible for anyone aside from Mystery, myself, or maybe you to leave. That, and this is a great spot. I’d rather avoid having to move the house if I can,” Lewis pointed out.
“That’s true too.”
“Rud reasons,” Scooby agreed.
“So what’s the homework?” Velma asked eagerly.
“The two main keys to success in Arthur’s plan are physically escaping Destroido and ditching Pericles, Brad, and Judy. Then getting the cobra larvae removed. As you could guess, the second part is the tricky part and also what we’re going to do today,” Lewis said. “Because the capsule is pretty deep in there, and it’s like a centimeter away from Ricky’s spinal cord. The only way it’s coming out is if Arthur’s sedated and someone cuts it out, and that’s not something we can do safely. Which means we need a surgeon, equipment, and a place where that surgery can be done.”
“Uh, why don’t we just take him to the hospital?” Scooby asked.
“It’s too obvious and too dangerous,” Lewis replied. “Removing the cobra venom will probably be Pericles’ first guess about ‘Ricky’s’ next move, and the hospital is the most obvious place that could be done. And the last thing we need is them dragging Arthur back right when we think we’ve won. Or worse: bringing killer robots into a hospital full of sick people.”
“So,” Fred surmised, “We need somewhere equipped with surgical equipment and someone who can perform surgery, but it can’t be at an actual medical center.”
“Not only that but it has to be the right kind of surgeon. Or at least a surgeon with the right training,” Velma added.
“This is where you come in, Mystery Incorporated,” Mystery smirked. And he blew an enormous, beautiful red smoke ring that encircled the four kids and their dog before it dissipated, filling the air with the smell of tobacco.
“The Mystery Skulls aren’t established in Crystal Cove,” Vivi explained. “We don’t know anyone here. We don’t have any connections. You guys on the other hand have been meddling around this town for years. You probably know just about everyone by now. So finding the answer to this is going to be up to you.”
“I think I might have an idea of where we could do the surgery, but I don’t know about a surgeon,” Velma said thoughtfully.
And Fred, Shaggy, and Scooby didn’t have any ideas either until, with a defeated sigh, Daphne raised her hand. “Actually… I think I know the exact person who can help us.”
And HERE IT IS! I'm sorry for the long wait, and I hope the long chapter and the fanart makes up for it!
I didn't mean to make you all wait this long for this chapter. I went through a bit of a rough patch the past couple of months because of school stuff. I picked the wrong major. BUT! I'm on a different path now that's much better for me and my mental health. I can't promise when the next update will be, as my current schedule doesn't leave me with much spare time. But I don't intend to make you wait another three months either.
On to talking about the chapter itself and its future, I don't know how they keep ending up this long but no one particularly seems to be complaining about it. Cassidy still doesn't know what happened to Ricky, Mystery has revealed yet another can of worms to open so expect lots more flashbacks ahead, and we're finally going to see our heroes actually start contributing to Operation: Free the E in the next few chapters. As for my song choice, I wasn't originally planning to use "Hellbent" for this part of the story, but as I was writing the flashback to Arizona I realized no other song could possibly be this appropriate for a car chase. That, and the past several chapters have been God, Pay for My Sins, and Angel. So why not continue the trend and put all of the songs with Christian/heaven/hell titles in one place? I would also like it to be known that Hellbent will most likely be used as a chapter song/title again in the future. I had been planning to use it for another chapter anyway, and tbh I'm running out of good Mystery Skulls songs that remain fitting to what's happening in the plot. I'mma try to have song repeats be few and far between tho!
I would also like it noted, some of you may have noticed, that I have added "previous" and "next" buttons to the format of my posting. I got the idea from Morningmark's comics he posts here on Tumblr. I can't promise how consistent they are to every single post though, because some of my chapters have proven difficult to find. I'll work out the kinks eventually, and I hope they make reading 'One Of Us' on Tumblr more manageable. Just don't forget to run over to Ao3 to leave a kudo or a comment too!
Seriously, do share your thoughts and possible theories. I never grow tired of them and they're what encourage me to keep going!
I stay busy with school so I don't know when I'll have time to post chapter 23 to Ao3 but you can bet it'll be posted there by this weekend!
Chapters 1-22 of 'One of Us' are presently posted on Archive of Our Own!
#one of us fanfic#one of us#one of us chapter 23#scooby doo mystery incorporated#sdmi#mystery skulls animated#mystery skulls#fanfiction#crossover fanfiction#scooby doo#mr. e#archive of our own#cassidy williams#mystery incorporated#fred jones#daphne blake#shaggy rogers#velma dinkley#vivi yukino#lewis pepper#arthur kingsmen#the horrible herd#human mystery#mystery msa#msa mystery#msa lewis#msa arthur#msa vivi#msa#body swap
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Who I write for /Rules
Masterlist
I'm new-ish to writing (i used to write fanfiction when i was like 13. i'm 18 now soo..) but I really wanna do it again.
So this is a list of characters/fandoms I write for as well as some rules for asks. Some things may be missing from this list so if you dont see something on this list, feel free to ask. :))
I will add a prompt list to this blog soon but again feel free to request other scenarious. Do add as much detail as you want to a request and please ALWAYS have at least some sort of prompt, as i'm really not good with coming up with storys on my own yet.
I WILL NOT DO SMUT SO DONT REQUEST IT! I might however do spicy stuff (Nothing more than making out tho).
My writing will be for all ages but please still be careful if the fic-warnings include sensitive topics and i might repost some 18+ things so be careful when navigating my blog.
Please be nice and have manners when requesting.
If you have any questions at all if i write for something, or if a topic you want me to write about is okay or not, please reach out through my asks or my inbox.
Also please include what gender/pronouns you want the reader to have (i write for all genders):)))
I write both romantic and platonic for all my characters. Although Teen!readers will always be platonic if the character is an adult.
I also write poly relationships. AUs are also totally on the table (big Fan of celebrity AUs).
Some things I will not write include: Pregnancy, toxic/yandere, student x teacher.
(Also english isnt my first language, and even know in my opinion i speak it really well, if they are any mistakes, thats why.)
Harry Potter
-Fred Weasley
-george Weasley
-lee jordan
-Charly weasley
-Bill weasley
-cedric diggory
-Fleur delacour
-olliver wood
-sirius black
-remus lupin
Marauders
-James potter
-sirius black
-remus lupin
-regulus black
-Evan rosier
-Barty crouch jr
-pandora lestrange
-lilly evans
-marlene mckinnon
Hogwarts Legacy
-Sebastian Sallow
-Ominus Gaunt
-Gareth Weasley
-Poppy Sweetings
-Imelda Reyes
Twilight
-Jasper Hale
-Emmet Cullen
-carlisle cullen
-esme cullen
-rosalie hale
-alice cullen
-sam uley
-Paul lahote
-charlie swan
-Leah clearwater
pjo
-Percy jackson
-Anabeth chase
-luke castellan
-clarrisse larue
-selena beauregard
-charles beckendorf
-ethan nakamura
-nico di anglo (no romantic fem readers)
-rachel elizabeth dare
-will solace (no romantic fem reader)
-travis stoll
-connor stoll
-hazel levesque (no romantic)
-jason grace
-leo valdez
-piper mclean
Magnus chase
-Magnus chase
-samirah al abbas ( no romantic)
-alex fierro
-blitzen
-hearthstone
-malory keen
-tj (thomas jefferson jr)
Kane chronicles (havent read it in a while so might be ooc)
-Carter kane
-sadie kane
-anubis
-walt stone
MCU (Avengers)
-bucky Barnes
-steve rogers
-tony stark
-sam wilson
-natasha romanoff
-yelena belova
-Peter Parker (tom holland and andrew garfield)
-MJ
-Wanda maximof
-Piedro maximof
-Clint barton
-scott lang
-stephen strange
-kate bishop
MCU ( Guardians of the galaxy)
-peter quill
-gamora
Moonknight
-steven grant
-mark spector
-layla el-faouly
Daredevil (Season 1)
-matt murdock
-Foggy nelson
-Karen page
-James wesley
X-men universe
-Deadpool
-Weasly
-francis
-Xavier
-negasonic
-mystic
-Angel
-kurt
Venom
-Eddie Brock
DC
-Harley Quinn
-Jason Todd
-Dick Grayson
Disney Descendants
-Mal
-Evie
-Carlos devil
-Jay
-Benjamin beast
-Chad charming
-Audrey rose
-jane
-lonnie
-Uma
-Harry hook
-Gil
Kingsmen
-Eggsy
Tiny Pretty things (Netflix)
-Bette Whitlaw
-oren lennox
-shane madej (no romantic fem readers)
-June park
Jennifers Body
-Jennifer Check
-Colin gray
Ever after high
-all characters
Redacted Audios (no x reader, just ships)
-literally all characters
#fanfic#writing#reader insert#requests open#twilight x reader#x reader#marvel x reader#pjo x reader#marauders x reader#harry potter x reader#tiny pretty things x reader#kingsmen x reader#descendants x reader#dc x reader#redactedaudios#redacted asmr#xmen x reader#venom x reader#Hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy x reader
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For chapter 16 in my fanfic
#tord larsson#eddsworld tord#ew tord#mystery skulls#lewis pepper#arthur kingsmen#multifandom fanfiction#crossover#fanfic
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Daybreak Master List
After your husband suddenly starts shutting you out and working late you sneak into his office to find any clues as to why. You expected an affair…..what you didn’t expect to find was a file that detailed plans to use his late wife’s DNA. After a quick divorce you find out that you are pregnant, and now must navigate the world of co-parenting as each of you try to find a new normal.
Rating: 18+
Characters: Agent Whiskey x Reader x Ezra
This is a sequel to the MIDNIGHT Series
Rated TV MA. Heavy trigger warning.
Note: Chapters may be added or subtracted from the list. This is a general outline of what to expect.
Summer
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Fall
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Winter
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
#Jack Daniels x you#Whiskey x you#Agent whiskey x Reader#Agent whiskey x you#Agent whiskey fanfic#Kingsmen Fanfiction#Kingsmen Fanfic#Pedro fanfic#Pedro Pascal fanfic#pedro Pascal Fanfiction
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We Meet Again - Eggsy Unwin X Female Reader
Title: We Meet Again
Eggsy Unwin X Female Reader
Additional Characters: Reader's boss
WC: 3,004
Warnings: Kingsman canon violence, guns, Reader is also a spy, spy stuff, suggestive (not a lot, but references a few suggestive things, none play out), teasing, banter, flirting, cursing, nicknames, slight angst, and fluff
"Target's turning the corner," You muttered, pushing your shades up, the sun blinding, as you briskly walked down the sidewalk, easily maneuvering past pedestrians as you followed the man a couple of hundred feet in front of you. You stuffed your hands into your overcoat pockets, eyes trained on the man whom you had been following for the past couple of days.
"Don't lose sight of him, Agent." The voice in your ear spoke just as the man you were following turned down another corner. "We need to know where he's going."
"I'm on it, calm yourself, would you?" You grumbled, your hand brushing against the rough brick wall of a building as you turned the corner, pausing as your eyebrows furrowed. "He's... He's entering a bookstore?" You relay, confused.
There was silence on the other line as you began walking towards the small, hole-in-the-wall bookstore, "Proceed with caution." Your boss then spoke.
Rolling your eyes, you let out a sigh as you pressed your hand against the swinging door, pushing it open as a bell rang from above you, signaling the workers or owner of your arrival. You lightly surveyed the room, taking in the small bookstore.
You took note of the two workers behind the counter, lightly chatting with one another - eating their lunch, and the old woman sitting at a small table with a coffee in her hand, book in the other. It was actually a really nice-looking bookstore, and if this was any other day - when you weren't working - you probably would've enjoyed reading a book or two; you could easily imagine yourself sitting at one of the tables, reading a mystery novel. But today was different. Today, you wanted to reach your target, find out what you needed, and leave without getting caught.
The bookshelves in the little shop lined up in rows, giving way to the back wall where there were a few more tables and chairs, all covered by a white cloth. A large sign hung on the far wall, proclaiming 'Bookstore' in big, neon, red letters, and 'A Place Where Dreams Come True!' was written on a poster below in swirly orange letters, to the right side of it.
Slowly, you walked to an aisle beside your target, watching him from your peripheral vision as you tried to blend in and pretend that you were just any other regular, day-to-day, human being looking for a book. As you walked down the aisle, you let your fingers brush from spine to spine; you spotted several novels about time travel, some sci-fi, fantasy, and even an entire section dedicated to cowboy romance novels.
You then turned to look at the long bookshelf behind you, while allowing your gaze to peer through the tops of the books. You surveyed what you could of him, tilting your head slightly as you watched his hand reach out and grab a book from his side of the shelf, opening it, and placing it back a moment later. He was looking for something... But, the question was... What was he looking for?
Turning around again, you faced the previous shelf, grabbing a handful of random books before piling them in your arms. Then, you made your move, walking down your row of bookshelves and turning into his. Looking down at your books, you tried to pretend that you weren't paying any attention before bumping right into the target. You and the target staggered back slightly, your books falling from your arms - and the few in his - as you gasped.
"Oh, my goodness, I'm so sorry for bumping into you like that," You dropped to your knees, beginning to grab some of the books that you had 'accidentally' dropped. "I am such a klutz."
The man bent down on one knee, shaking his head as he began to pick up some of the books with you, "It's no problem. You like thrillers?"
“Hmm?” You paused at his question, looking up slightly to see the book in his hand that you had randomly grabbed, "Oh, yeah... I find them... Thrilling." You answered, feigning nervousness and embarrassment as you finished collecting the books in a neat stack in front of your knees.
The man was silent, as you felt his eyes on you, staring. You took a chance, glancing up at him above the rims of your sunglasses, your gaze finding his. His head was tilted to the side slightly, like some confused puppy, as his lips turned downward in a frown. It took only a split second for him to realize who you were, both continuing to stare at each other as your lips twitched; threatening to turn into a mischievous grin. With a flicker in his eyes, a knowing look soon found its way upon his face.
But before you could even say a word, he swiftly pulled out his handgun, silencer at the ready, from his satchel. You let your smirk falter as he raised the gun to point directly at your chest, “You finally remembered to bring a silencer. Good for you…" You trailed off softly, quietly so as to not draw attention to the both of you, but deadly enough as you gave the gun one glance before slowly sitting up, raising your hands in the air beside your head. Why did he have to be so good at his job?
"Y/N... Long time, no see." He tried to play off, a grin creeping across his face. It had been a long time, seven months long. You hadn’t seen him since Rio. “You seemed to have forgotten how to properly tail someone. Miss me or something?"
"I'm not here for a reunion, Unwin." You responded, "Now, I'm going to stand up, slowly." You carefully demanded, your eyes never leaving his as you both slowly stood.
"Now," He began, as he took a few steps closer; a foot or so distance between the both of you. "Hand me the file, love."
"File? What file?" You asked, feigning innocence as you widened your eyes and tilted your head to the side. Blinking owlishly, “I don't have a file.”
His furrowed brows lifted slightly as he gave you a lopsided smile, letting out a small awkward laugh - between a laugh and a scoff; you could tell that he was clearly in discomfort, trying to lift the tension with his words. "This is quite the predicament you put me in here." There was no point in lying anymore. He knew you had it… Somehow.
"And I assure you, it'll be much worse if you don't put down that gun." You threatened, hating how much your arms were beginning to ache, "I'm not giving you the file, Eggsy."
"Oh, how I love it when you say my name, love." He sighed out, his tone almost taunting as you narrowed your eyes.
Clicking your tongue to the roof of your mouth, lowering one of your hands, pressing the small button on your earpiece, silencing it; allowing you to speak freely without your boss hearing. "Why do you have to be so frustrating?" You exclaimed, glaring daggers at the man before you.
Eggsy only shrugged, "I'm just trying to do my job." He answered before you caught him by surprise when you grabbed his wrist. In a matter of seconds, you moved your forearm over his, forcing him to bend at his waist as the arm that held the gun pressed horizontally against your stomach. With a sharp tug of your free hand, you pulled the gun from him, watching as he stumbled back. Blinking slightly, he frowned - obviously upset with himself at the fact that you so easily took his gun, "... Which you are delaying." He added, voice sounding a bit strained as he glanced from you, to the gun, and back. "I see you still got the moves." He mimicked your previous stance, raising his hands in the air.
"I'm just trying to do my job too," You lowered the gun slightly, resting it against his gut, "And taking your gun was almost too easy, Eggsy." You countered, trying to ignore how close you were to him; your eyes subconsciously drifting down his body, your heart beginning to hammer against your ribcage as you again met his gaze, "I just want to know what you know." You lowered your voice, your expression softening ever so slightly.
"What I know?" Eggsy huffed out a laugh, "I don't know any more than you do." He paused, letting his eyes flicker over your face for a moment - seemingly thinking - before continuing, "We could always come together and exchange notes-"
You narrowed your eyes, feeling your face flush slightly, "I am not going to let this turn into the last time we met."
Last time? Last time in Rio. That night that was filled with dancing, drinking, and getting intel. You were on a mission, a mission that crossed over with Eggsy’s. There had always been that palpable tension that had kept you drawn to each other. Something you'd never experienced before. It had been months since the two of you had run into each other - not even your missions could keep you both apart for long it seemed - ‘It was fate,’ Eggsy said one time - and you had your high doubts, but you were beginning to believe it. It was kind of strange just how many times you bumped into him, the sight of him still got to you every single time though.
There were so many times that you and Eggsy would meet on these missions and things would inevitably end up with the two of you in compromising positions together. You hated how wrapped around his finger you were, you hated how much he affected you. So, you pushed him away, trying desperately to stay distant. But, it was hard, hard to forget about him, hard to pretend that what you were feeling wasn't real, hard to forget his face, his voice, his scent, and his touch. Even now, you had to force yourself to stop from just smiling. You had to admit, despite yourself, you were almost glad to see him again. But, that night could never repeat itself. Not now, not when you were trying to get your job done.
You shook your head, "Stop playing around." You admonished, not wanting to admit anything to him. You hated the fact that you couldn't even act naturally around him. You hated the fact that you could barely breathe around him. You hated the fact that, whenever he was near, you found yourself flustered and nervous. And you especially hated the way your heart raced whenever you were near him... Eggsy was making things difficult, as always.
"Well, if you must know..." Eggsy began, "I think you liked it just as much as I did, love." He continued, his voice low and husky as you tried your best to remain calm, but your heart was racing. You didn't want this conversation to end up anywhere near the bedroom... Or the shower... Or anywhere else where things were more intimate with him.
You ignored his comment, your eyes snapped away from his, and glanced down at the satchel that he was wearing, "I can't let you jeopardize this mission for me, Eggsy."
Eggsy said nothing, still grinning as he quickly grabbed a hold of your gun, forcing your arm up, and spinning you around; your back hitting his chest and expelling a small ‘umph’ from you. Locking you against his body with his other arm and yours, he used his free hand to expel the magazine before pulling back the slide barrel; you watched in anguish as the bullet flew through the air almost in slow-motion and onto the ground with the magazine.
Sighing deeply, you finally acknowledged the way his hot breath tickled your neck, how the muscles in his arms flexed as he held you tight against him. "You never make things easy, do you?" You huffed, "I should have known better than to expect anything different."
Eggsy chuckled, nudging his nose to the hair on the side of your head before muttering, "Well, I guess that's one thing we've both got in common." Goosebumps began to rise from your arms at the feeling of his warm breath against your skin, causing a familiar heat to build between the two of you.
"I really don't have time for this." You tried to push out of his arms, but his grip tightened around you, keeping you pinned to his chest.
"You were the one that has been following me." He pointed out, a smug grin on his lips as you felt your heart begin to pound in your ears. The warmth from his body bled into your clothes, sinking into your skin the longer you stayed pressed up against him. You were struggling to focus. "You wouldn't want to tell me why, would you?"
Oh, how you hated him sometimes, how cocky he got. Though you also knew that he was just confident in his capabilities, it still irritated the hell out of you. You could already imagine the expression on his face. You could already picture the smug smile plastered on his handsome features as he held you so close to him. You could already see his eyes glimmering as they gazed down at you. He was loving this…
It was hard to concentrate, trying to think of a way out of this predicament as you felt as if your entire being was being engulfed in the smell of pine, and musk that was so incredibly intoxicatingly him... And... And...
And then, after all those thoughts ran through your mind, you snapped yourself out of it and back into action. Lifting your shoe, you slammed your heel down onto his foot, hard. You heard his breath catch in his throat as he groaned, and as his arms loosened around you, you quickly used your momentum to spin around. Raising your free hand, you grabbed the back of his neck, pushing his head towards yours; discomfort all over his face from the sudden pain to his foot.
You tilted your head slightly as you stared into those ocean-blue eyes of his, watching as his scrunched up face slowly softened as his eyes met yours. You then became acutely aware of how his tongue slid out between his lips to wet them, and how his eyelashes fluttered as he blinked several times - knowing full well what you were doing to him.
"I'm not telling you shit, Eggsy." You spoke, your voice barely above a murmur as the corner of his lips twitched up slightly.
He leaned into you a little bit more, moving his hands to rest on your hips. "It's alright, love." He answered, his voice low, matching yours, "I already got what I needed."
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as Eggsy pulled away, giving you one last grin before speeding his way out of the aisle and out of the bookstore. Mind racing, you patted down your jacket, eyes widening as you opened your jacket; only to find the file that was securely placed in the large inside pocket was gone.
Turning towards the window facing the outside of the shop, your eyes flickered from person to person before you spotted Eggsy. A mixture of disappointment, inner pain, and anger crossed your face as you watched him hurry across the street and start climbing into the passenger seat of a black car parked on the curb.
"... Oh, gosh." You muttered, shaking your head as you clicked your tongue to the roof of your mouth, "This is a damn mess..." You sighed, gritting your teeth as you clenched your fists tightly in frustration as you reached up and turned your earpiece back on; the fear of disappointing your boss rising once more. "I got some bad news, boss." You relayed, "He stole the file."
It was silent on the other line for a moment, and you felt a sense of dread creep down your spine. "He got the file?" Your boss's voice was calm, unnervingly so. "How the hell did he get it from you?" His tone suddenly became more annoyed, "I told you to watch him and just find out what he knows."
"I understand that, sir," You huffed, "I thought I could just talk it out of him... I wasn't expecting the gun-"
"Agent Montgomery." Your boss cut you off, "How long have you been an agent?"
You sighed, rubbing your cheek before getting down on your knees and collecting the gun, magazine, and stray bullet, pocketing them. "Six years, sir."
"Then you already know that you should always assume another spy has a gun or any other weapon, no matter where you go or what you do." You nodded, even though he couldn't see; his voice was stern as he continued, "Even if you think your target won't be armed, you should always assume they will be. I shouldn’t have to say this. If this happens again, you’re back on desk duty."
Running a hand through your hair, you pinched the bridge of your nose, "I'll get the file back, sir." You assured him before grabbing the books on the floor and taking them into your arms once more, "He can't get any further without the key." You finished, placing the books back on the shelf that you had gotten them from.
"Good." Your boss responded. You took a deep breath and wiped your still-warm cheeks with your palms, sighing as you straightened out your attire.
"He left in a black car, the license plate is '2FD224.'" You added while proceeding to leave the small bookstore that you made a mental note to come back and visit in the future.
Slipping your shades securely upon the bridge of your nose, your boss spoke up, "Do you know where he's heading next, Agent?"
You pursed your lips, stuffing your hands in your jacket pockets, as you venture out into the bright sun. "Italy."
-------
Should I make a part 2?
#cute#fluff#x reader#x female reader#x you#x y/n#fanfic#fanfiction#slight angst#kingsman#kingsmen secret service#kingsmen golden circle#eggsy unwin#eggsy unwin x reader#eggsy unwin x female reader#eggsy unwin x you#eggsy unwin x y/n#kingsman the golden circle#x spy reader
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I Don't Want To Rember •Kingsman Merlin•
Word count: 1157
Type: Angsty fluff
Warning: Mentions of Death and grieving
Paring: Merlin × Oc (description is kept limited name can easily be changed when reading)
Summary: Maggie can't process her feelings about Merlin coming back to her
Maggie was sat at the kitchen table again, it was nearly 3 am and her head was hung over a cup of coffee.
"Mag?" She looked up to see Merlin coming down the stairs of their house.
"Hey babe, I didn't mean to wake you," she smiled.
"You didn't, I woke up naturally, and realised you weren't next to me," he said.
"I just had a nightmare, don't worry about it,"
"What about?" Merlin asked sitting across from her.
"You know what it was about," she said with a heavy sigh.
"I'm alive darling," he reached for her hand but Maggie retracted her hand setting it in her lap.
"Sorry, I'm still shaking it off," she mumbled.
"I love you," he said
"Love you too,"
"Go back to bed," she said "I'll be up in a minute" she assured
Maggie never came back to bed, Merlin found her the next day on the couch asleep.
"I...I just don't know Harry, it feels like she's pulling away from me," Merlin said to Harry as they ate in his office.
"It was traumatic for her too, she watched you die, she grieved you, then she helped get you back and she helped Ginger with your surgery, she's probably still processing," Harry assured him.
"Why won't she talk to me about it?" Merlin asked.
"She doesn't talk about her feelings and she probably feels as though she shouldn't complain because you're the one who came back to life," he said.
"You make more sense than you should," Merlin said.
"I read a lot of romance books," Harry shrugged.
"You read spy novels," Merlin argued.
"I change the dust covers to spy novels," Harry said amused Merlin shook his head with a chuckle leaving to his own office.
He hadn't seen Maggie all day, she said she was too busy working vitals on Roxy and Eggsy's blood from their last mission, an undercover that went wrong and ended in both of them getting injected with a mix of poisons that they had to scramble to get an antidote to.
Maggie had been frantic figuring out the antidote as Eggsy sat holding a puke bucket as he threw up blood, Roxy held out bearly any better but she had gotten to the all-acting poison negator, all it did was slow the poison down.
But Merlin could see the file, she'd ran their blood and done every test she could on both their most recent blood samples and the ones taken when they were injected.
"She's probably working on a better and quicker antidote than what we had," Merlin mumbled. "Yeah, that's all she's doing,"
Maggie came home later than Merlin. "Hey, you hungry?" Merlin smiled.
"Not really, darling I've been working on a proper antidote for months, seriously months and nothing is working," she complained.
"Literally nothing! I can't even figure out what the poisons in that mix were, if I could do that, I could work out a mix of the antidotes for each of those poisons," she groaned as she collapsed on the couch.
"You'll figure it out my love, you always do," Merlin said kissing her cheek, Maggie smiled looking over her notes.
"Thank you, love"
"Put the notes down, they'll be there tomorrow," Merlin said later in the night Maggie sighed rubbing her eyes.
"You're right, I've got a couple theories to try in the lab tomorrow," she said placing the book down.
"Come on, to bed we go," he said holding onto her hand pulling her up off the couch.
"I love you," Maggie smiled kissing him, Merlin kissed back crowding her against the door.
He trailed his kisses down her neck, Maggie pushed away. "I. . .I can't I'm sorry," she said.
"What? What is your problem? Are you afraid to look at my scars? Disgusted? Do you think you're too good for me now? That I'm damaged goods now? Huh!" Merlin shouted.
"No! Of course not!" Maggie said quickly.
"Then look at me like I'm a person again!"
"I can't! Okay? I just can't! It's too much all I see is the view from your glasses as you exploded! How your voice just stopped! The blood on your glasses! And I had Ginger telling me we needed to continue the mission and help Harry and Eggsy! But I couldn't and then weeks later we found you and oh my god the state you were in.
I collapsed into Tequila, Then. . .Then Ginger needed help during the surgery and you were flatling and the machines were going off and Ginger was fanatically trying to get you breathing again and I. . .Froze until Harry came in to calm me down, tell me it wasn't you, it was any other agent I've performed surgery on, we had to cover your face, I could barely even function as a medic, never mind as your wife.
I sat on the floor of my surgery room just thinking, thinking, what if you died, what if you flatlined and I froze again with no one to help, what if you got better and went back into the field and you got hurt again and I couldn't do anything and every time I see those scars, It's all I think about, I can only see you nearly dead on my table, I love you but I'm scared!" She cried sat on the edge of their bed with her head in her hands.
"And I'm so selfish because I can't imagine what you're going through if I'm like this, I can't imagine what your head is like and I-I don't know how to talk about it because you don't like to talk about your emotions and I'm fine with that! Because it's always small things like Eggsy pissing you off, even when you were grieving Harry we didn't talk about it much I could deal with them, I know those emotions, I've felt them but how do I deal with this,"
Merlin knelt in front of her. "Maggie, look at me," he said gently.
"Don't act like I'm a child Hamish" She groaned.
"I'm not but I need you to look at me" he said.
Maggie rested her chin on her hands looking at him, he took her hand. "Trust me," he said gently, he moved her hand under his shirt placing it over his heart. "You can feel that right?" She nodded "I'm alive and I'm healthy and that's because of you and your amazing work, you keep each and every single Kingsman healthy and alive and I love you for that," he leaned up kissing her.
"How about this, we go to sleep, if you wake up with a nightmare, you wake me up as well and we work through it together, you're not selfish, this hurts you as much as me, I didn't suffer alone and you won't either,"
Maggie smiled kissing him "Thank you," she said gently.
They settled into bed, Maggie laid against Merlin's chest listening to his heart and it was the first time in months she'd slept soundly.
#harry heart#kingsman#kingsman x reader#kingsmen secret service#mark strong#merlin kingsman#merlin x reader#taron egerton#hamish#hamish mycroft#kingsman merlin fanfiction#kingsman merlin#kingsman fanfiction#kingsman eggsy#kingsman imagine#roxy kingsman#kingsman merlin imagine#kingsman merlin fic#kingsman merlin oneshort#Kingsman Merlin fanfic#kingsman fic#roxy mortin#eggsy urwin#merlin
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Flufftober 20 - Kingsman
Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniel x reader
Halloween parties were more or less normal parties for the Kingsman agents. After all, this holiday was not really important for English people, and even less for secret agents who took their job very seriously. It had changed a bit since Eggsy had arrived, some agents accompanied him for a few drinks at the pub, but nothing more.
Halloween parties were very different for the Stateman agents.
Because this holiday was very important to Americans, who liked to do things big.
When they invited their new European friends, it was at first a kind of joke. They didn't think they would accept. But Eggsy insisted that they go, saying that it would be good for the agreement and the collaboration between the two agencies.
And of course, this would be an opportunity to relax.
Merlin and Harry weren't really convinced, but Y/N agreed that it could be fun. It would also be a way to study the workings of the Stateman, just in case. This was the argument that convinced everyone.
They all arrive in their work suits, and all eyes turn to them. Everyone else was in disguise, the room filled with vampires, ghosts, and other supposedly scary creatures, staring at them as if they were the monsters.
"...You didn't tell us we had to pick disguises, Eggsy." Merlin muttered, leaning towards the young agent.
"Well, it's Halloween, man. That's kind of the idea."
"But you're not disguised either."
"It's for kids. I came to drink, and if asked, I'll say that you forbade me to put on a ridiculous disguise. Or that I'm one of the Men in Black. I just have to find sunglasses."
After that, he went for the bar, leaving them alone. Sighing, Merlin went to join Champagne, to try to have a little interesting conversation, while Harry found a corner away from the crowd, in order to observe and check that his young friend wasn't doing anything stupid.
Y/N stood alone by the door, unsure of what to do.
As she decided to join Eggsy at the bar, a hand placed on her shoulder and a glass appeared in front of her eyes. A glass of whisky.
"Hello Jack." she said without looking at him, taking the glass he was offering to her.
"Sweetheart, you look gorgeous as always. A vision. But maybe a little too much 'work place' for tonight, right ?"
"I point out that you are dressed exactly as usual too."
"Wrong !" he was indignant, showing her his outfit. "I'm a sheriff. I have nice boots, an old gun and a nice star that proves my authority. Besides, I should arrest you for not wearing a disguise at a Halloween party."
"There." Y/N replied, taking his hat and putting it on her head. "I'm a cowgirl who decided to put on a fancy costume for a night out. Happy ?"
He didn't answer, staring at her with a funny look, before nodding and drinking his drink. An agent then called him and he excused himself to join some of his colleagues.
Not wishing to be alone, but not finding Eggsy, who must have been drunk somewhere, nor Harry, who must be trying to prevent Eggsy from causing a catastrophe, Y/N went to stand next to Merlin.
In addition to Champagne, Ginger and Tequila had joined the conversation, talking about politics, the cultural differences between their countries, and everything but work. Everything was going perfectly well, until the three American agents looked at her to ask her opinion on a subject, and they froze at the same time.
"Is... Is this Whiskey's hat ?" Ginger asked with wide eyes.
"Yes."
"Holy mother of God." Tequila hissed as if something horrible had just happened. "We talked about it, but I didn't think it would ever happen."
"Talked about what ?"
"Nothing, nothing at all."
When the two agencies were teaming up to solve a problem, Y/N and Whiskey were often working together. There had been some teasing about it, some even rumours, but in truth nothing had ever happened between them.
They got along well, they flirted a little for fun, and maybe Y/N wouldn't have been against more, but it wasn't very professional, besides being potentially dangerous.
She didn't think Jack was interested in that way anyway, between his complicated past and his need to flirt with absolutely everyone.
And now his colleagues were looking at her strangely, or rather looking at the hat she was wearing, as if it meant something very important.
After all, all Stateman agents had cowboy hats. Except maybe Ginger. Even with their disguises, they all wore it, even Champagne the Frankenstein or Tequila the ghost.
A sheet with two eye holes and a cowboy hat. He could also have chosen Cousin Itt.
"He gave you his hat, finally." sighed Ginger. "I mean, that's nice."
"Actually, I took it from him."
"Oh, dear, you don't take a Stateman's hat without their permission, or you lose your fingers, and I see you still have yours. So he gave it to you."
After saying that, the director of the Stateman gave her a wink, accompanied by a small smile.
Merlin hadn't said anything, just looking at her with his nervous gaze, shaking his head to let her know that she might have to get back to agent Whisky soon.
Y/N found him on the balcony, finishing his drink and watching Harry, who was trying to stop Eggsy from undressing to dive into the hotel pool.
"You English, pretending to be super classy, but after two beers, showing true face."
"A friendly face that inspires confidence ?"
"Yeah. Are you having fun, sweetheart ?"
"It depends. Some look at my head like I just accepted a marriage proposal."
"Your head ? Oh, right." he said, turning around and rediscovering his hat. "I didn't think you were going to keep wearing it. Don't mind the others, they're stupid."
"Does it mean anything special when a Stateman gives someone his hat ?"
"Not at all."
"Yet you made a weird face too when I put it on." she remarked, staring at him straight in the eye.
"You surprised me. It looks good on you. And... Yeah, okay, I like you wearing my hat, it's out. My hat on you, it's... It's nice. "
Not knowing what to say, Y/N said nothing. If she reacted badly, it could harm their future collaboration, and their relationship.
Their friendship, of course. Nothing more.
"I... I can take it back, if it makes you uncomfortable."
"No !" she said too quickly, without thinking, putting her hand on the hat. "I mean… That's my disguise tonight. I'm Agent Whiskey. I'll be ridiculous without it."
"I thought you were a cowgirl ?"
"I said that, but because I'm on an undercover mission, sweetheart."
Her attempt to mimic his accent and his small smile made him laugh. But he didn't seem to forget what she had just done, pointing his finger at her head.
"You can keep it, if you want."
"Damn, don't tell me it's really like a wedding ring."
"No. Why are you... Hey ! Leave ! Private conversation !"
Turning around, Y/N saw several agents of the Stateman, and Merlin, who had approached to listen. They ran around laughing and telling them they had to stop being stupid. Tequila added that he had won the bet.
"The bet ?"
"Ignore them, sweetheart, I told you, they're stupid."
"Yes."
"Hmm."
"Yes, I want to keep the hat."
"Oh. Nice. Very nice." he repeated, waddling nervously, before taking her hand to kiss it and ask her if she wanted to dance.
Maybe future Halloween parties still wouldn't be special for the Kingsman.
But they would be for Y/N and Jack.
#kingsmen golden circle#jack daniels#jack daniels x reader#agent whiskey#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey x female reader#agent whiskey fanfic#flufftober 2022
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Hi can I request a agent whiskey/ jack Daniel x plus!size reader. So the reader is an agent and is working with everyone that is trying to take down the drug cartel the reader is an agent and is a badass at doing her work so maybe she is in love with jack maybe one day they introduce a new agent to the team she is a girl she is thin blond with pretty blue eyes let’s just say all the guy’s welcome her and so does the reader the reader notices jack flirting with the new agent so when they have to do a small mission to get more information about the drug cartel they have to go under cover at a club and the reader has to flirt with the target the rest they just pair up into 2 teams so they are gonna be in the club make sure nothing goes wrong because their target has back up maybe theres a little fighting when the reader wears a dress she gets insecure because she sees the new girl and her dress and how it fits perfectly on her so maybe the new agent and jack had to play as a fake couple for the mission but what the reader doesn’t know is that jack is in love with the reader so maybe when they are fighting the reader gets stabbed in the leg when they get back she gets checked out jack wouldn’t leave the reader side and the doctor said she should be fine while in the infirmary the reader confesses her love for jack maybe it could end with them dating.(this might be to long uhh you could write it if you want it’s fine will if you don’t)
Sure thing, my love!! I'm so sorry this took so long!!
Warnings: Violence, blood, etc. (no smut)
-------------------------------------------------------
"You've gotta be kidding me.." You mumbled, staring at the group of men that were all huddled around the newest agent of Statesmen: Agent Malibu.
Malibu had honey blonde hair that practically glowed in the sunlight; the thick, wavy locks looked softer than a feather.
Which paired well with her deep, ocean blue eyes, the kind that you could swim in for hours, not even knowing you were drowning.
Even better, she had a perfect figure- she was thick where it mattered, like her thighs and hips, but her thin waist and long legs really completed the look.
It all made your stomach turn.
What made everything worse was that Agent Whiskey was in that crowd of men, supposedly 'welcoming her.'
Though you saw the grin he had- it was the same one he had given you when you first began working for Statesmen. Regrettably, you were engaged at the time, so you never did act on the obvious spark between you two.
Even when you broke things off with your ex, you never could find the right time- or gather enough courage- to ask him out. And now you were terrified that it was too late.
"I know! Isn't she perfect?" Your coworker, Agent Vodka, said, taking a long sip from his mug. "I don't know if I wanna fuck her or be her bestfriend."
You rolled your eyes, angerly placing your hands on your hips. "Aren't you gay? And married?"
"Me-ow, somebody's jealous." Vodka mumbled into his mug as he took another sip, quickly heading back towards his office to avoid your salty mood.
You shook your head, huffing out a sigh as you looked back at group of Agents. You managed to make eye contact with Whiskey, feeling the familiar burn in your cheeks when he smiled at you.
You gave him a small smile back, giggling when he tipped his hat at you. He always did stuff like that to make you laugh. No matter where you were or what you were doing, Whiskey always found a way to either make a silly face or flirt with you.
That's what made this all so confusing- the other agents were usually professional while working with you, so what made Whiskey different?
"Agent Amaretto!" Your boss, Agent Champagne, called out, motioning for you to come over to the group.
You hated suddenly having all of those eyes on you; especially hers.
You set your mug next to the coffee maker behind you, before awkwardly walking over to him, trying not to look at Malibu. "Yes sir?"
He motioned for the crowd of agents to get back to work, though Whiskey and Malibu stayed besides him. "Well, I assume you've met Agent Malibu?"
"Yes, sir."
"Wonderful! Well, the two of you will be accompanying Agent Whiskey on tonight's mission. Everything is already set up; Whiskey and Malibu, you'll be portraying Mr. and Mrs. Williams, a wealthy married couple from Spain. Amaretto, you'll be Mrs. Culpeper, a Russian widow. Everyone got it?" Champ asked, glancing between the three of you.
"Don't Whiskey and I usually play the married couple?" You tried to keep the attitude out of your tone, though you didn't think you were very successful considering the look that crossed Champ's face.
"Yes, but don't these two look better together? Look," Champ slung his arm around your shoulder, making you look at the 'couple.'
Your teeth grinded together, your nails digging into the palms of your hands as the green-eyed monster began to slip out of his facade.
"Ain't they just perfect together?" He asked, obviously proud of himself.
"You really think so?" Malibu asked, hugging Whiskey's arm as she looked up at him through her eyelashes; Whiskey winked at her in return, a sly smirk tugging on his lips.
"Well, I certainly have a lot to do to get ready then!" You pulled away from Champ before he could even notice that you were shaking with rage, your lips locked in a tight smile. "But do send me the files for tonight's mission."
And without another word, you quickly walked away from the group, holding your breath to keep the hot, salty tears at bay.
-
You spent the better part of your afternoon practicing a Russian accent and going over Mrs. Veronica Culpeper's profile, preparing for tonight's mission.
You reminded yourself to practice your breathing exercises, deciding to be an adult about the situation. You didn't have the right to be so possessive over Whiskey; you had your chance, and you blew it.
That's on you.
As you slipped on your short, silk black dress, you couldn't help but feel a slight sense of confidence. You didn't get to dress up often, so seeing yourself with a full face of make-up, your hair held back in your favorite clip, and wearing a dress that hugged your curves perfectly? How could you not feel absolutely gorgeous.
You took separate cars and left at different times than Whiskey and Malibu, not wanting to cause any suspicion.
Veronica had never met the Williams before, so at least it wasn't like you had to look at them together all night.
You slipped in your earpiece as you pulled up to the club, checking to make sure you were connected. "Whiskey, do you copy?"
"Yeah." He responded a moment later, whispering with that deep, gruff Southern accent that made you shiver.
"I copy too!" You heard Malibu say, her voice echoing as though she were in an empty room, like a bathroom.
You took a deep breath, composing yourself before exiting the car, greeting the valet with a thick, Russian accent as you dropped your keys into the palm of his hand.
As you entered the building, you couldn't help but glance around the room, looking for a familiar face.
"Hello there, I don't think we've met. Who are you?" A man asked from behind you, slight suspicion in his tone.
You turned, only to be met with the man of the night; Lucifer White, the leader of the biggest cartel ring in South America. The man you were all here to kill.
"I am Veronica Culpeper. I believe you knew my husband?"
"Ahh, yes! James! Oh, I do apologize for your loss. I'm sure you understand though, no?''
You blinked, trying to remember how Veronica's husband died. "Business is business."
Lucifer barked out a laugh, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "A woman who understands how the business world works! I must have a drink with you!" He tried to pull you towards the bar, but you resisted.
Out of nowhere, five guards suddenly looked your way, not liking the disappointment look on their boss's face.
"I don't know.. Maybe I should walk around first? I just got here." You felt beads of sweat beginning to dampen your forehead, the panic burning in the pit of your belly.
"Are you kidding? That is the perfect time to get a drink! Come come!" He reached over and grabbed your hand, actually pulling you towards the bar now.
"Tell me, what is your choice of drink?" He shouted to you over the music, motioning for the bartender.
"I'll take your favorite." You said, throwing up your hands. "I feel adventurous tonight!" Your Russian accent was just as thick as his Spanish one.
Lucifer laughed, giving you a simple nod before speaking to the bartender in Spanish.
"So, what brings you here tonight? I figured you would be more than furious with me at the moment, no?"
And that's when it hit you; Lucifer killed Veronica's husband when an important deal went bad. James was supposedly working with the police, though there wasn't a lot of evidence to support that theory.
Even so, James was the first he killed when he discovered the undercover cops that were supposed to be buying his product.
Not even a minute later, the bartender gently set your drinks on the counter, giving you a nervous look as he prepared other customers. drinks.
"No. As I said. Business is business. My husband was weak." You said as you picked up your drink, raising it in the air. "To good business?"
Lucifer grinned, slamming his glass against yours. "To good business!" He began to chug his drink, watching you out of the corner of his eye to make sure you were drinking yours.
You raised the glass to your lips, preparing to take a sip, when suddenly it was ripped out of your hands. You looked up, watching as Whiskey tossed the glass back behind the bar, nearly missing the bartender's head.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Lucifer roared, standing to get in Whiskey's face. All of the guards in the surrounding area perked up, tightening their grips on their guns as they kept a very close eye on the situation.
"It was my mistake, really. I apologize. I thought she was someone else." Whiskey said, holding his hands in the air. You almost couldn't recognize him without his Southern accent.
You glanced around, catching a glimpse of Malibu, who was standing nearby to watch the situation unfold.
She wore a ruby red dress that hugged her waist perfectly, flaring out into a whirl of ruffles and glitter on the bottom. And even in a moment as tense as this, that familiar burn of insecurity began to creep into your mind.
"Who are you?" Lucifer demanded, gripping Whiskey's collar.
"Right! I'm David Miller, sir."
"Oh really? That's funny, because the David Miller I invited is currently in New Mexico. You see where I'm a little confused, no?"
"Jesus Chirst." Whiskey muttered, not even trying to hide his Southern accent anymore. He punched Lucifer in his jaw, sending both men to the ground.
That's when all hell broke loose.
Everything began to playout in slow motion- what seemed like dozens of men ran up from the first floor at the sight of a fight, trying to take on both Malibu and Whiskey.
You reached behind the bar and grabbed a bottle full of vodka. Storming over to one of the bigger guards who had his back turned, you tapped the back of his knee with your foot, smashing the bottle over his head once he dropped to his knees.
Holding onto the top of the shattered glass bottle, you stabbed an oncoming guard in the stomach with the broken glass, twisting the handle so the glass dug in deeper.
You felt someone grab you from behind, pressing a gun against the side of your head. "And to think I actually trusted you! I was going to make you mine." Lucifer snarled, the metallic smell of blood and alcohol wafting from his mouth.
"Awe, what a shame." You said, before slamming your head back into his face, causing him to stumble back as blood poured from the bridge of his nose.
"You bitch!" He cried out, holding his hand over his nose.
You turned, kicking your foot into his stomach so hard that he flew back into another guard, both of them falling to the ground.
Feeling something break on your shoe, you sucked in a breath, propping your foot up on a nearby barstool to see if you broke the heel.
In doing so, a guard took that as an opportunity, proceeding to jab his knife into the side of your thigh while you weren't paying attention.
You ripped your leg off of the chair, clenching your teeth together in agony as you ripped the knife from your thigh. "You fucker!" You screamed, hurling yourself at the man as though you were some kind of predator.
You all fought like hell for the next ten minutes, the war ending with a single gunshot to Lucifer's forehead.
You stood there panting, holding the gun in a vice-like grip. The familiar feeling of guilt swirled around in your stomach, making you lightheaded. You'd think that after eleven years of killing people, you'd be used to it by now.
Well, you'd be very wrong.
Whiskey and Malibu were by your side a moment later, Whiskey letting out a long whistle when he saw what you had done. "Bit of a hiccup, but I'd say that was a hell of a mission, huh?"
Malibu gave him a are you serious right now? look, gesturing to her torn, blood covered dress.
"Ah well, ya win some, ya loose some." Whiskey patted her on the back, suddenly going quiet when he saw the blood that rushed down the side of your leg, now pooling at your feet. "Please tell me that's someone else's."
You furrowed your brows together, glancing down to see the mess you unintentionally created. "Oh! Huh, I honestly forgot about that.."
Whiskey hurried to your side, looking up at you for permission when he grabbed the edge of your dress. Once you gave him the okay, he took one look at your stab wound and decided that you needed to go to the hospital.
"What? No, Jack, I'm fine! I'll just have Ginger look at it when we get back."
"Ginger is currently at home sleeping. Ya know who isn't? The doctors at the ER down the road. Now go get in the truck."
"I can drive myself-"
"Give Stacy your keys. She'll bring it back to the office for ya."
So now they were on first name basis?
The thought made you cringe, a sour look beginning to spread across your face. "I gave my keys to the valet."
"Got that?" Whiskey asked Malibu, nodding when she agreed. "Now, let's get you taken care of." He gently grabbed your arm, guiding you outside towards the parking lot.
-
"Let me get this straight," The doctor said, taking off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "You just fell on a knife?"
"Yup." You and Whiskey said in union, glancing at one another.
"And how exactly did you fall on a knife?"
You simply shrugged, tossing your hands up.
The doctor eyed you suspiciously, staring at Whiskey as though he did it. "Right.. Well, thankfully it's not very deep. You're going to need stiches and maybe some antibiotics, but you'll be fine. I'll be back in a moment to stitch you up, okay?"
"Thank you, doctor." Whiskey said, giving him a curt nod.
Once the doctor left, you let out a long sigh, beginning to pick at your nails. The only thing you could seem to think about was how Whiskey said Malibu's real name, no hesitation, no warning- he used it as though he'd known her for years.
Tears began to swell in your eyes, making you dig your nails into the palm of your hand to counteract them.
"Is the pain gettin' worse?" Whiskey asked, staring at your clenched fists.
Shit.
"I'm fine." You mumbled rather rudely, you'll admit.
Whiskey raised his brows, swaying his hip to the side. "Well what did I do?"
You rolled your eyes as you huffed out a sigh. "What are you talking about?"
"That! That right there. What's with the attitude?"
"I don't have an attitude, Jack."
"Bullshit. Are you still salty you ain't get to be my wife this time around?"
The lump in your throat began to swell, making it hard to swallow. "I was never salty in the first place. For fucks sake, can't you just wait in the waiting room? I'm a big girl, I can get a few stitches by myself."
Whiskey stared at you in awe. "Oh my god, you are!"
You turned your head so he couldn't see the heat that began to burn through your cheeks. "I'm not!"
"Listen Sugar, I'll make it clear to Champ that you're my number one girl from here on out, alright? I'm not sure how Stacy's gonna feel 'bout-"
"God, do you ever shut up?!" You cried out, finally looking at him with your tear-stained cheeks and wobbling lip. You couldn't hold back your jealousy any longer, hearing her name on his tongue for a second time making your body burn with pure rage.
Whiskey's smile quickly faded. He continued to stare at you as though he solved the worlds hardest puzzle. "Holy shit, you're jealous."
Your eyes went wide, your body suddenly dropping into fight or flight mode. "I don't need this." You jumped to your feet, ripping the curtain back before storming away from him.
"The hell you do!" Whiskey was hot on your tracks, grabbing your wrist once you were in arm's length.
Other patients that didn't have their curtains drawn began to stare at the scene; doctors looked at you both with suspicion.
"People are looking. Will you please just get back in there?"
"Are you going to shut up?"
Whiskey acted as though he locked his lips and threw away the key.
"Fine." You pulled your arm out of his grasp, walking back to the corner yourself.
Whiskey pulled the curtains back once you were both inside the makeshift room, stayed quiet like he promised. Though by the looks of it, his head was racing with thoughts.
You tried to sit on the edge of the bed, but the skin around your wound felt tight- as though your skin would rip if you moved too much. You sucked in a sharp breath, obviously struggling.
"Let me help-"
"Aren't you supposed to be staying quiet?"
Whiskey rolled his eyes. "Don't be a child. Seriously, let me-"
"I'm fine-"
Whiskey sighed, gripping your waist and lifting you onto the bed.
You sat there with a scowl, rubbing your sides. You hated being picked up. "Don't you ever do that again."
Whiskey stared at you for a while, his mouth agape. Not a moment later, he began to laugh- the kind of laugh that had him doubled over, holding his stomach.
"What?" You crossed your arms over your chest, wanting to know what was so funny.
"Ya know you're cute when you're mad?" He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you.
You scoffed, turning your head away from him once again.
"it's true! You may be stubborn, but god damnit, you make up for it by bein' so adorable."
You turned to face him, your brows still furrowed together. "Why are you being so mean to me, Jack?"
"How am I being mean to you, sugar?" Whiskey cooed, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.
"By acting so nice to me all of the time! None of the other agent's treat me like this. They're usually professional- wanting to get a mission done as soon as possible. But you? You do stuff like this; taking me to the hospital yourself, buying me dinner, flirting with me.. Why?"
Whiskey shook his head, a shy smile tugging at his lips. "You really wanna know?"
"I wouldn't've asked if I didn't."
"True." Whiskey mumbled. He placed his hand on your cheek, guiding your face to his as he gently pressed your lips together.
You sat there frozen for the better part of the kiss, shocked that it was finally happening. Years of tension- of longing, hoping that he would someday feel the same finally poured out into one, single kiss.
And once you finally did kiss him back, your lips pressed against his with urgency, as though you were starving for his touch alone.
"Okay!" The doctor said, yanking back the curtain right as the two of you pulled away. "I hope I'm not interrupting, but are you ready to get started?"
"Not at all! Come on in."
"Great." The doctor and a nurse came in to set everything up for your stitches, not even realizing that they walked in on the best moment of your life.
You laid your head on Whiskey's shoulder, holding the edge of your dress back so the nurse could disinfect the area. "Can I spend the night at your place?" You asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
"Sure thing, sugar." Whiskey said with a laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
Yeah, you were gonna be alright.
-
Hello! Thank you so much for reading!! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated :)
Taglist: @dino-fart
#agent whiskey#agent whiskey x plus size reader#agent whiskey fanfiction#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey x female reader#jack daniels x plus size reader#jack daniels x reader#jack daniels fanfic#jack daniels#jack daniels x female reader#kingsmen#kingsmen golden circle#kingsmen golden circle fanficton#statesmen#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal#💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙thoughts#thanks for the ask!!
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Chapter 6: But She Was
Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x F!Reader "Sugar"
Summary: He's so much more than only a host.
Word Count: 6k
Warnings: Explicit 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex (don’t be a fool, wrap your tool), some light D/s themes, Jack needs his own warning because his mouth is a weapon, slight dubcon if you squint and think hard about it, major infidelity themes.
Notes: It's the moment we've all been waiting for! We've got another trope, more soul-searching, but most importantly SMUT. We've been yearning about this cowboy for too long, it's time to do something about it!
Cross-posted on AO3
Cognitive Dissonance Masterlist || Whiskey & Westworld Series Masterlist
When conversation begins to ebb and the sun is barely a sliver on the horizon, your hosts gather up the dishes and pour short glasses of port and whiskey. Jack and Jeb enjoy theirs on the porch while you and Mary wash up and sip yours with wrinkled fingers. From your vantage point you can see Jack’s profile lined in sunset tangerine, his expression kind as him and Jeb murmur on. Mary’s comments range from where she got her teapot to the weather this week, finally landing on you as the sky begins to darken.
“You live close by?” she asks, to which you shake your head.
“We were heading up through the pass when we came upon Jeb. Our group traveled on ahead, we’ll ride to meet with them,” you say, wiping your hands dry. Mary shushes you and waves a hand.
“You can’t possibly continue riding tonight. You’ll stay in the spare room. It’s the least we can do.” Before you can protest Mary steps through the porch door to tell Jack and Jeb the plan. Jack looks up at her with curiosity, then catches you in the window. He dips his head - this okay? - for the second time today, and you drop your eyes before nodding. Your hands wring your dress, the only clothing you have, and that bedroom holds one queen-sized bed. You're far from a blushing virgin, but now that you know Jack will be lying beside you, your husband to your hosts, your insides are clenching and fighting against the hammering of your heart.
Mary leads you away as Jeb and Jack continue their conversation on the porch, bringing you back to the guest room that now makes your heart pound. She opens a bureau and pulls out a square of fabric, placing it in your upturned hands.
“My daughter’s, it should fit you,” she says simply, showing you where you can prepare for the evening. You thank her and she closes the door, leaving you standing in the middle of a room that will soon contain a beautiful man who has given you reason to believe he would like to touch you. Hands shaking, you're feverish at the idea of being alone with Jack.
Hurrying into the washroom, you strip out of your clothes and lay them over a rack for use tomorrow. A basin of cool water sits on a small chest and you use it to clean yourself as best as you can. You wish for a real shower, to be clean and fresh and not as self-conscious about how you smell or the neatness of your grooming. This will have to do.
On the other side of the washroom door you hear Jack enter, murmured words before the soft close of the door. You hurry to slip the white nightgown over your head, adjusting it against your body. It’s large and billowy on you, falling down to your ankles and offering no hints at your form underneath. The lace straps are feminine, and when you look in the mirror you find an ivory ribbon threaded through the neckline, loose ends meeting in a soft bow at the center of your chest. The sweetness of the detail brings your fingers up to dance along the edge, a secret smile playing across your lips. It makes you feel pretty.
Watching your reflection, you’re surprised to see a glow on your features that has been long hidden. You skate your fingers across your cheekbones, the bow of your lips, the line of your jaw. It’s easier to see what Jack might find attractive there, why he might be drawn to you. The years have melted from your face, the stress and worry replaced with calm and anticipation. The last time you could remember feeling this happy in your own skin was…
A cold hand grips your heart, your own hands coming to grasp the edge of the bureau.
You were happy when your fiance proposed.
The truth of your life swims back into stark relief, tears welling in your eyes. The times when you felt this full of joy to be with another person clamor to the forefront. Dates along the waterfront, a sweet bouquet of flowers, dinners and soft words and laughter. You had been happy, once.
But then like tendrils of ink, the truth bleeds into the warm memories. The fighting, the harsh words, the disdain he seems to hold for you day in and day out.
Why can’t you be more like my friends’ girlfriends?
You need to do this.
Because I told you to.
Stop being such a bitch.
The gray haze of your life hangs heavy around your shoulders. There were moments of happiness, and ones of pain and regret. But overriding all of them was the fact that you had said yes, accepted your fiance and all that would come with that vow. Were you truly going to do this? Violate your promise for a night with this kind-eyed man?
Tentatively opening the door, you hear more than see Jack in the room. The squeak of bed springs, the clatter of something being placed on a table, a sigh. You pad out barefoot into the room and have to fortify yourself at the sight.
Jack sits on the edge of the bed, hands resting on his thighs and a quiet, uncertain look on his face. He’s shed his denim, instead wearing some cotton sleeping pants and a long-sleeve undershirt. The sleeves are rolled up his forearms, buttons at his throat open down his chest. When he sees you he snaps his eyes to your face, holding your visage. His hands squeeze against his thighs and you recognize his strained expression.
Jack Daniels, rugged cowboy, trouble with a capital T, is struggling not to lose his composure.
You take a few slow steps towards him, rewarded when you see his throat bob. He tries to put on that playful smile but it wars against his body language.
“You’re looking more beautiful than I have a right to see, Sugar,” he says, and do you detect a warble in his voice? Is he as conflicted as you are? You come to rest in front of him, the cotton of the nightgown brushing against his knees. He leans back a fraction to look up at you, his thumbs working against his pants in anxious circles. You part your lips, wetting them with your tongue but Jack beats you to it.
“This can stop here, darlin’. We don’t have to keep playing this game. I’d be just as happy to have you sleeping beside me than anything else. Though I hope you’d forgive me if I asked to touch you.” His eyes flit off to rest somewhere else in the room, chewing on his lower lip. “Been a long time since I’ve had the pleasure of something sweet to hold.”
You succumb to the desire you had earlier, fingertips tugging his lower lip out from between his teeth. It pops back plump and pink, the crease in the center even more pronounced and you swipe your thumb across it indulgently. His eyes come back to yours, deep amber mixed with the onyx of desire.
His words wash over you. He’s letting you say you don’t want this, or can’t have this. You can lay down beside him and the most he’ll do is put his arms around you. It’s your lust and unfaithful heart that is tempting him. You don’t deserve what he can give.
“I’m not sweet, Jack,” you say, the bile of your desire making your mouth bitter. Self-loathing dampens your libido, and you move to step back from him. His fingers wrap around your injured wrist, large enough to circle it easily. He brings it to his mouth, pressing an open-mouthed kiss over the barely-there burn, his lips dragging on your skin.
“Sweet,” he hums, licking his lips as his other hand falls to your waist, urging you closer to him. You hesitantly step into the V of his legs, his fingers stretching across your lower back. Holding your gaze, he presses another kiss to the delicate skin inside your elbow. His tongue flits out this time, and the dart against your skin pulses heat in your core. Heat creeps up your neck, your eyes hooding as he pulls his mouth away again.
“Sweet here too,” he says, your hands coming to rest on his strong shoulders. He’s blazing hot beneath you, barely anything keeping your skin apart. This is the step before it changes. You can still walk away now. Jack will let you. But you have to decide.
He lays both hands across the span of your back, pulling in a heady breath.
“I know we’re playing with fire here. There's a lot more going on outside this room than either of us are really addressing. And before you say anything, I’m not just talking about your situation. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you too.” Jack’s thumbs sweep across your spine, his eyes downcast and rueful. “Something you should know before anything more happens.”
Your breathing slows, time becoming molasses-sticky under Jack’s hands. You study his face carefully, but you don’t see deception or shame in the lines of his eyes or the turn of his mouth. It could be anything or nothing, earth-shattering or insignificant. Whatever it is, he feels burdened by it as much as the weight of your vow on your mind. But with his face turning up to you, eyes gentler than any look your fiance has given you in months, you realize something.
You don’t care.
Whatever it is, whatever either of you is holding onto that makes this final step terrifying, it doesn’t matter. You know there’s something more, some part of him he thinks makes him unworthy, but you don’t care what it is. You made up your mind to follow Jack Daniels wherever he led you when you swung up onto Copper’s saddle.
“I know,” you say, watching Jack’s eyebrows lift in light surprise. “I know, and I don’t care. I don’t care about anything outside this room, because I've never been happier. Nothing has made me happier than this, right now.” Jack’s throat bobs again, a brightness returning to his eyes as his fingertips stroke along the curve of your back.
“What do you want?” he asks. No pet names, no banter. The calm before the dust storm.
“You said…before, that I…” you begin, tripping over what you hoped would be a witty remark but your tongue is suddenly heavy and stuttery. Jack nods.
“I said you could have all the Whiskey you want,” he replies, holding himself still as you study his face. In a moment of clarity you search for the machine behind the man. For glints in his eyes that reveal the inner cogs and programming. For a twitch that shows the mechanics. A sign that this shouldn’t be something you get lost in.
You can’t find it. You can’t pretend this is a high-tech sex bot sent to pleasure you devoid of emotion. Not with the way Jack looks up at you like you are all the sweetness in his life.
It’s time to stop doubting. It’s time to stop fighting.
“All of it,” you say, and the words lift such weight off your shoulders. “All that you can give me. I want it. I want you, Jack.”
The smile and gleam in his eye returns, earning a matching one from you.
“Yes, ma’am.”
And then he surges up to kiss you.
There was a movie you watched with your father when you were a child where an android kisses a man. You’d always remembered your father’s comment of, “it’s like kissing a toaster!” It made you laugh, stuck with you for years.
Kissing Jack Daniels was nothing like kissing a toaster.
He claims your mouth like you’re water in the desert, desperate, thirsty, needy noises in the back of his throat. You swallow them down, clutching at the front of his shirt as he crushes you to his chest. One hand wraps around the back of your neck, the other pulling you tight against him as he steals your breath, all soft full lips and ticklish mustache and the intoxicating scent of peach and, of course, whiskey on his breath. He parts from you briefly, beautifully curved nose pressed against yours.
“Told you,” he whispers, and the fact that he’s out of breath only drives your arousal higher. You hum curiously. “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” You huff out a laugh that is cut short by his lips capturing yours again, the tip of his tongue swiping across your bottom one. Your tongues meet gently, soft presses and strokes before Jack’s hand tightens on your neck and his breath puffs hard against your cheek. He delves into your mouth, pulling forth gasps and keens as he savors you. Hands scrabbling at his chest, you lift his shirt half up, exposing his soft stomach to your wandering fingers. When they find the delicate trail of hair leading below his waistband he groans into your mouth, hand on your back sliding down your hip to bunch the flowing nightgown into his fist. Cool air rushes around your thighs as Jack sits back and guides you to straddle him. Sliding his hand up your thigh, you’re treated to a dark chuckle against your lips.
“All this for me, Sugar?” he teases, and the tone makes your cunt slick with arousal. His fingers dance over your bare ass, skimming into the dimples at the base of your spine and dragging up your back. He lets you breathe by dipping his head into the curve of your neck, nipping and lapping at the skin there as you roll your hips in anticipation. His hand flexes, blunt nails scraping lightly at your back and you let loose a thin moan.
“Oh Sugar, we are going to have fun tonight,” he whispers in your ear, and in a quick spin he’s got you on your back in the bed, head nestled in the pillows. You giggle at the quick way he moved you both, breathless at the strength and speed of it, before realizing he’s not slotting his hips between yours. Instead his shoulders are pressing your thighs open, baring you to his appreciative eyes. You try to slam your legs shut, some nervous instinct, but those sinful hands keep them open. He tuts at you, looking up through his dark eyelashes.
“Don’t you dare hide this from me, Sugar. I’m intending to have my fill here,” he drawls, hot air puffing against your sensitive flesh. Your hands wander frantically as Jack settles himself more comfortably, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh.
“Jack, you don’t…” you whine, and your lizard brain kicks your nervous brain for saying something so stupid out loud. You feel like you’ll die if he doesn’t bury that quick tongue inside you.
“Sugar, if you don’t like this I’ll gladly move on to other activities,” Jack says, placing another kiss closer to where you want him. “But if you think I don’t want to do it…” His words are lost as he licks a wide hot path from your entrance to your clit, your surprised moan so loud you slam your hand over your mouth. He lifts his head, lips wet with a devious smile. “Does that allay some fears?” You nod, hand still clamped over your mouth.
“Sweet girl,” Jack rumbles, the praise and his tongue going straight to your cunt. Your brow furrows at the intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain in your intense arousal. Jack’s tongue is as quick and talented at eating you out as trading quips. He buries his face between your legs, holding you open for him as he circles your clit with the tip, flattening it to swipe and tease as you feel your orgasm building. He slides further down and laps at your entrance, slotting his tongue inside and rubbing circles with his strong nose that have you keening behind your hands. After sloppily licking back up to your clit, driving you wild with the undulation of his tongue, you almost shout at the waves of pleasure he’s pulling out of you. Jack lifts his mouth from your cunt, face shiny with your arousal, and nips at your stomach.
“Careful Sugar, don’t want sweet old Mary and Jeb to hear you cumming on my face,” he scolds without weight, making you throw your arm over your mouth instead. Your lips plant moans and whimpers in the crook of your elbow as Jack sucks one of his fingers into his mouth to wet it.
“Now if we were on my ranch I’d tell you to scream as loud as you want. Might even open the windows, let those pretty sounds drift on the breeze,” he rumbles, finger rubbing languid circles on your clit as his tongue explores all of the intimate skin between your legs.
“Or I would just lay you out under the stars and watch you take my cock by moonlight.” Your thighs tighten, a new rush of slick rewarding his filthy mouth. He coos and sucks you indulgently, steady pace on your clit holding your arousal but not mounting it.
“Beautiful girl,” he whispers, removing his finger as you whine in frustration. “Shhh, look at me Sugar.” You do, arm coming down off your lips as he gives you a placating smile. “What do you want? Tell me.” Your hips roll at his words and he pins them below those thick-fingered hands.
“Want to cum on your face, Jack,” you breathe out, voice rough from your attempts to stay silent. “Then I want you inside me.” Jack loses composure for a moment, heat growing in his eyes.
“Fuck, Sugar, I’m going to wreck this pretty cunt. Stay quiet for me,” he punches out, dropping his mouth to seal around your clit and suck. Pleasure explodes behind your eyelids, propriety forgotten as you brokenly moan at your impending orgasm. Jack’s fingers dig into your thighs as he releases you with a pop.
“What did I just say?” he growls out, mock anger in his voice but his eyes are mirthful.
“I…” you try to respond but he’s sitting up on his knees and manhandling you over onto your stomach.
“If you’re not going to be quiet, I’m going to have to make you,” he says, reaching up to tuck a pillow under your head. With a firm hand on the back of your neck he urges your face into the plush down. You’ve never been handled this way before, dominant and exacting but still gentle, and the sigh of “good girl” behind you makes you wiggle against the mattress. Jack’s powerful thighs frame your own, his other hand smoothing over the curves of your ass as he slips his fingers back between your legs. Finding your clit he returns to rubbing gloriously perfect circles on it, making your toes curl as you bury your head in the pillow.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful coming apart like this. Lift your hips,” he orders, letting the back of your neck go. He shuffles down your body as you lift and arch, his clever fingers following you. Wrapping his arm around your waist, fingers returning to your clit, you keen before Jack’s hot thick tongue is back inside, thrusting and messily mouthing at you. The press of his aquiline nose against your entrance as he strokes his soft tongue over your clit is lewd and filthy and perfect. His open-mouthed hums vibrate against you, and…is he drooling against your pussy? You think you hear the patter of wetness dripping onto the sheets and whether it’s your own or Jack’s it makes the coil in your gut finally snap.
You cum around his tongue, fisting the sheets and moaning Jack’s name into the pillow as he guides you through it. He’s groaning along with you, coaxing every drop out with muffled praise. “Good fucking girl, you cum all over my face. Fuck, you saying my name there sweet girl? Yeah, say who’s making you cum this good. Can’t wait to get more than my tongue inside this tight little pussy.” You feel his weight shift on the bed, one hand pushing the nightgown further up your back as the other fumbles behind you. You pull your head up from the pillow, wet from your open mouth, to see Jack’s rapt attention on your half-naked form below him. His arm flexes out of your sight but is most likely wrapped around his cock. The soft, hot length dragging against the back of your thigh confirms it.
With a boldness you try to reclaim after Jack’s dominance, you push back against Jack’s narrow hips, smearing your wet cunt against the head of his cock and his knuckles. He punches out a breath, gripping at your hip tight enough that he’ll leave bruises.
You’ll have evidence of tonight on your skin. You couldn’t care less.
“Please,” you beg, backing up further even as Jack tries to keep you still.
“Darlin’, I still gotta open you up for me,” he says, chuckling and stroking along your hip. You shake your head and press your hips flush, his velvety head nestling in your folds. He breathes in a choked gasp as you cant your hips to seat him at your entrance.
“I can take it, Jack, please,” you whine, and you’re half embarrassed at how needy you sound.
“Oh you do? Think you can take this?” he says, and he folds to cage you underneath his body. His arms are thick posts on either side of your head, knees knocking yours open as you feel the curved length of him slide through your folds and rest against your clit. His mouth comes to your ear, lips brushing against the shell and the scent of your arousal on his skin.
“Feel me, sweetheart. You might think you’re ready, but I’ll split you in half with my cock if I try to put it in this tight cunt right now. So why don’t you let me fill you with my fingers until you cum again and then, maybe, I’ll fuck you.” He rolls his hips against you, and his length does feel long and thick as it passes over your clit. You nod in agreement, but a timid word pops out.
“Only maybe?”
Jack kisses your shoulder, nose dragging against your skin.
“Teasing, Sugar. I can barely control myself when you talk like that.”
You try to shoot back something witty but Jack wraps an arm around your stomach and hauls you back against him, lifting you up to your knees as he plasters your back to his chest. You’re spread out over his lap, one of his hands cupping your breast and the other sliding down to gather slick on his fingertips. He mouths at your shoulder, your neck, taking your earlobe between his teeth as he sinks two fingers greedily inside you.
“Fuck, Jack!” you strain, hands clutching at the thick thighs below you. He laughs between his clenched teeth, running his tongue along the edge of your ear as he curls his fingers out of you before plunging them back in even deeper.
“Yes, Sugar, you just let me find that perfect spot for you,” he husks, his long arms holding you against him as he slowly drags his cock through the cleft of your ass. He places a hot kiss, edged with teeth, in the same spot behind your ear where he kissed you so sweetly at the dinner table. Swiping his fingers over your pert nipple through your nightgown, he pulls desperate moan after moan out of you, the thickness of his fingers everywhere making you bear down on him. With one particularly good thrust he finds that deep wonderful spot inside you, making your head loll back against his shoulder.
“Ahh, there it is. You gonna give me another good one darlin’?” Jack mumbles into your skin, alternating kisses and licks and bites along your shoulder and neck. He’s stroking against it now, perfectly hitting every time and pairing his onslaught with the slick rub of the heel of his hand against your clit. You release his thighs and instead wind your hands into his hair, soft and curling through your fingers. Jack buries his own little pants in your skin, his hips pressing more firmly against you.
“Gonna give you one more of my fingers, Sugar, and if you can take it you can take me whenever you beg prettily enough.” Your jaw drops as Jack works a third finger inside you, the dewy wetness already pooling in his hand giving him ample lubrication to slide inside. For a moment you feel too full to breathe, arching your back and feeling all your lower muscles clamp down in protest. Your fingers tighten in Jack’s hair and he stills, his free hand releasing your breast and sliding up to press you back against him. He holds you so tight, like he’s afraid you’ll bolt from his embrace.
“You’re okay Sugar, I’ve got you. Jack’s got you,” he murmurs soothingly in your ear. “Relax, breathe, I know it’s a lot. I’m gonna stay just like this until you move. You take your time, I ain’t in a rush.” The patience he's exhibiting makes your breath shaky. Sex has never been this intimate before, waffling between intense pleasure and overwhelming overstimulation. Your body is thrumming like it wants to run but instead you turn your head and graze your lips with his.
“Kiss me, Jack,” you ask, and he’s all too willing to oblige. In comparison to how lewdly you’re spread out on his fingers, he kisses you sweetly, slowly, savoring every press and lick and sigh. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing you softly. Your muscles release, easing around Jack’s fingers as you roll experimentally down. He lets you set a pace, barely moving off him as you feel your cunt accommodate.
“Beautiful,” he says against your lips. When he curls his fingers this time you feel blinding pleasure rekindle, your hips chasing it as you and Jack bring you to your peak in tandem.
“I’m gonna-” you keen, hips rolling faster as Jack reaches deep inside and mercilessly strokes against you.
“Cum, sweetheart, cum for me,” he growls, and just like that you are bowing back against him, choked gasps and his name squeezed out of your gasping lungs as he works you through your second orgasm.
“Fuck, you’re so tight, you’re gonna strangle me Sugar. Keep going, don’t you stop on me now, you got some more in you.” If you weren’t already thrashing through the longest orgasm you can remember Jack’s filthy mouth still would have kept you going. Finally, when the last few aftershocks leave you limp against him, he slips his fingers out, bringing them up to his mouth to lick them clean. The sound of his appreciative hums and sucks next to your ear makes a shiver creep along your spine.
“Couldn’t help myself, darlin’, you just taste so good,” Jack says, pressing several soft kisses along your neck. With quiet strength and ease, he slides you down onto the bed, turning you so you’re lying in the pillows again. He sits back on his knees between your legs, finally allowing you a glimpse of his large, flushed cock in the V of his open pants. He was kind to slow you down; it sits proudly against his stomach, thick and pleasing but much longer than most you’d taken. That doesn’t stop you from wanting it, framing Jack’s hips with your thighs as he drinks you in. His hands bunch in the loose fabric of the nightgown draped around your waist.
“Can I take this off you, sweetheart?” he asks, and with a smile you sit up and help Jack guide it over your head. Now bare before him, his eyes widen and lower lip droops open in reverence. Skimming his hands over your bare shoulders, you let your own wander to the hem of his shirt.
“This too?” you ask, and he leans back and shucks off his shirt, almost as if he’d forgotten he was still clothed. Your hands descending to his pants make them follow in quick succession.
His strong, taut body shuffles between your softer thighs. Beautiful tan skin stretches across his meaty shoulders and biceps. The smooth planes of his chest are dotted with freckles, dark nipples begging for your mouth to tease. The light dusting of hair you’d glimpsed is primarily leading down to a thicker thatch around his cock. The muscles surrounding you speak of power, strength, endurance, but his hands touch you like you’re silk. Both bare, Jack takes his time leaning you back into the bed, exploring the softness of your stomach, the underside of your breasts, sliding his hands all the way from your shoulder to your wrist before interlacing your fingers. If you didn’t know better, you would call it longing in his touch.
Could he long for you?
“Sugar,” Jack rumbles as he’s leaning over you, dark eyes searching your face. You’re starting to like the endearment more and more. “I hope you’ll let me take my time with you now. I’d like this to last a little longer.” The sentimentality of it makes a lump well in your throat, but you nod as he breaks out into an endearing smile.
Jack does just that. He kisses you, soft and passionate and encompassing as he folds his body into yours. Hip to hip, legs intertwined, wrapped in each other’s arms you feel more present than with any man who’s laid with you before. And you finally let go of the overthinking, the constant analyzing of the puppet show going on around you, and just let yourself feel.
When he begins smoothly sliding his cock along your folds, arousal sparking in your spine, he hushes you and keeps the pace slow.
“Just feel me, darlin’, like I’m feeling you,” he says into your collarbone. You do just that, allowing your hips to roll into one another without any hurry or destination. It’s melting you into the bed, Jack’s kisses along your chest and neck punctuated by words of praise and adoration.
“Feel so good, just like this. Just like this,” Jack babbles against you, returning to your mouth as his strokes get longer, the head of his cock brushing against your entrance. The rolling waves of the motion mounts, making you grab at Jack’s back as he lifts onto his elbows, thumb stroking against your cheek. When the ache of arousal in your lower back makes your hips lift, Jack finally slides inside you with a long, slow stroke, watching your face.
You open your mouth in a soundless moan as he fills you. It feels like he keeps pushing into you for ages until his hips press into the cradle of your thighs, seated full and deep. You breathe through the mild discomfort, letting the pleasure pull to the forefront.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Jack says through clenched teeth, dropping his head to your forehead. You tilt your chin to capture his lips and he moans into your mouth, cupping the back of your neck. Slowly pulling away, the wet noise makes you dig your fingers into his shoulders before he rolls back at the same methodical pace.
“Jack, my god, you’re so fucking big,” you gasp as he grinds against you again.
“Oh Sugar, you’re gonna build up an ego in this old cowboy,” he jokes, a wash of giggles lightening the headiness of the moment. He keeps up the pace, a long slide in, long slide out, until your hips start to chase after him.
“Jack…” you gasp, cupping his jaw where he's flushed from his cheeks to his shoulders, panting and eyes hazy with lust.
“What do you need, Sugar?” he asks, and when you slide your thumb over his mouth you get the devilish urge to push it inside. Breaching his lips, he groans and sucks hard on your thumb, tongue swirling around the digit. It turns you on more than you thought, seeing him suck and lick and scrape his teeth against you. His hips begin to speed up, strokes still as long but more powerful at the end, one hand gripping at your hip as he fucks you deeper.
“Oh shit Jack, that, yes, keep…doing that,” you pant, making him smile around your thumb. You pull it from his lips and card your fingers through his hair, his eyes rolling back and closing.
“You like that Sugar? Like feeling me so deep inside you?” He slides a knee up under your thigh for leverage. “You getting what you need? Gonna cum on my cock beautiful?”
“Harder,” you gasp out, half shocked at your own admission. Jack’s dark eyes flash, a wicked curl on his lip as he crashes your mouths together, teeth clashing and messily licking into your mouth. When he pulls away he posts up on his knees, both hands wrapped around your waist as he maneuvers your thighs around his waist.
“Everything you want, sweetheart,” he grounds out before setting a punishing pace, hips snapping roughly into your cunt and a grimace of concentration and ecstasy blooms on Jack’s face. He adjusts the angle and suddenly he’s driving into that deep pleasurable spot inside you and you’re gasping and arching as he seats his thumb over your clit.
“Come on, sweetheart, cum for me. Cum on my thick cock. Want to feel you soak me with this delicious cunt. You’re so close, I can feel you. Let go, let go, c’mon, you can do it. Cum on me. Now.” Jack’s growls are punctuated by his hammering cock and his relentless fingers and you’re helpless to stop your peak from overtaking you. It blazes through your body, Jack’s powerful hands pinning you to keep his cock inside.
“Fuck, yes baby, yes, that’s my good girl, choke me with your fucking cum, god you feel so fucking amazing. Yes. Right there, I’m right there with you. Fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck…” Jack keeps his fingers circling your clit as he pulls out, fisting his cock over your stomach as he spills his load in long spurts on your skin. He’s making a mess, cum dribbling over his knuckles and painting you from hip to tit. Pulling in hard gasps above you with whimpers at the end, his fingers slow and he backs away enough to drop to his side beside you. Long moments pass with you both catching your breath in silence, then you blindly reach for him. Your fingers glance off his chest before he captures your wrist, pressing bristly kisses to your knuckles.
“Just wait here a moment, sweetheart, I’ll be right back,” he says, the mattress shifting as he stands and pads naked to the washroom. He returns with damp skin, a wet towel in hand that he uses to wipe his cum from your stomach. You think he’ll slide it between your legs too, but as he nudges them open he instead licks thickly through your sex, tasting you once more before a cursory wipe with the towel. He tosses it into some forgotten corner before pulling you to your feet, plastering you against his side as he folds back the blankets. Your limbs feel noodly, happy to lean on Jack’s broad frame as he guides you into bed.
Once he’s satisfied you’re snuggled in, he blows out the lights in the room and slides in beside you. You’re both still naked, the heat of your skin warming the cocoon of blankets around you. Jack’s arm slides under your neck and pulls you to drape over him. Your head finds the soft dip in his shoulder, hand placed in the center of his chest for his own to cover. This is more intimate than you anticipated after such satisfaction, but as Jack’s breath begins evening out under you, even your racing mind manages to quiet enough to enjoy the silence of the night.
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