#agent whiskey smut
Text
Pressing
Jack Daniels x F!Reader, dude ranch AU
A Palomino oneshot, but can be read on its own
{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }
Rating: E
Summary: Jack marks you as his in an unexpected way.
Warnings: PWP, Jack's belt leaves an impression on reader's skin, unintentional branding, unprotected sex, long-distance relationship, desperate and feral cowboy, no physical descriptions of Reader, very lightly edited, written as part of the Palomino universe, set after the end of the series, but can be read as a oneshot on its own
Word count: 1.4k
Notes: This little story came from an ask sent in by 🐴 anon in December 2022, which I have long lost, about a song that mentions a guy’s belt buckle leaving marks on his girlfriend's inner thigh while fucking. Naturally, they thought of Jack’s belt. 🐴 anon, if you’re still here, thank you for the inspo and for your patience ❤️
Also thank you to @lola-lola-lola for getting me horn knee about our cowboy again 😘 Writing Palomino smut first thing in the year was not on my 2024 bingo card, and I’m not mad about it!
Cutest dividers by @firefly-graphics.
It’s been two and a half months. Week after wretched week of phone calls on stolen time. Day after day of aching to reach through the phone screen and the distance between you to touch him.
It’s hard being hundreds and hundreds of miles apart. It’s even harder on weeks when he’s in the mountains with no reception. Harder to find time to call when you have to work late and he has to get up at dawn.
But you endure it all - for days like this.
It’s a rare weekend off in the high season, with Teak pulling back-to-back pack trips to cover for him, joking that he can’t take all his sighing and pining for his Darlin’ anymore.
Jack takes the last flight out on Friday night, arriving first thing on Saturday morning, before the city - or you - wake up. You’re half-buried under the duvet when the jingle of the key in the door jolts you from shallow slumber.
On unsteady feet, you wobble out into the hallway, crashing into the walls as you go, balance off-kilter from sleep.
But it’s ok - he catches you, all white t-shirt and tight blue jeans. Incognito, if you will, in casual sneakers, but the cowboy hat is on as always. You knock it off post-haste, burying your face in the side of his neck in a desperate need for contact, his warmth seeping into your skin and wrapping you up in the deepest of comforts.
His hair is longer than he usually keeps it, and your fingers twist into his tousled curls when you pull back, taking in the stubble on his sharp jawline, and his tired eyes. But before you can say anything, he leans in and slants his lips over yours.
The taste of airplane coffee is sharp and bitter on his tongue as he kisses you deep and messy. You startle when he suddenly slams the door shut behind him, not realising it was still open, and his beat-up weekend bag is tossed carelessly behind him somewhere in the doorway.
The legs of the kitchen table scrape jarringly against the floor as he crowds you onto it, big hands cupping your ass and pulling you against his straining erection through his jeans.
‘Fuck, it’s been too long, darlin’.’ His voice is gravelly from an apparently sleepless overnight flight, and hearing his voice finally on the shell of your ear has you whimpering needily.
‘Can’t wait any more,’ he growls, desperation thick in his voice.
With a flick of his wrists, he shucks off your ratty sleep shirt, eyes hooded as he gazes down at your tits, like he can’t believe he’s actually touching you. Cupping them, soft and heavy, with reverent, rope-worn palms, he sucks one nipple after the other between his lips, making you squirm against him and leak wet and sticky between your thighs.
Strong hands hold you in place easily as you buck, the scrape of his moustache almost painful on your over-sensitive skin, nerve endings on fire after being deprived for long weeks.
Too impatient to wait, you tug your pyjamas shorts down your hips and kick them off clumsily, panties tangled in your damp folds as you writhe under him.
You feel the breath catch in his broad chest at the peek of your pussy, a rapidly growing damp spot darkening your cotton underwear. Hooking his thumb under the fabric, he tugs it unceremoniously to the side, baring you to him.
‘Look at all this,’ he marvels, tracing the fleshy pad of his thumb through your folds, making you arch clean off the table. ‘So wet for me and you’ve barely woken up.’
‘Been thinking about you the while night,’ you admit, hips twitching as you chase his touch. ‘Couldn’t sleep.’
‘Did you touch yourself, darlin’?’
You shake your head vehemently. ‘No. Wanted your fingers. Your cock.’
His nostrils flare at your answer, unabashedly possessive in the way he looms over you.
‘Good girl,’ he murmurs into your throat, nosing the side of your neck while thick fingers thrum against your clit. ‘I was so hard for you the whole fuckin’ flight.’
As if to prove it to you - not that you need it - he rolls his hips into your inner thigh, the hard bulge undeniable.
You mewl, hooking your ankles around his waist. ‘Fuck me now, Jack - please.’
There’s a wordless fumble for the solid sterling flask bottle of his belt buckle, his usual level-headed composure nowhere to be found as he pushes down his jeans with shaking hands, just enough to pull his cock out of its denim confines -
And then he thrusts home inside you.
After months of only your fingers, it’s a stretch. But what a delicious stretch it is.
You feel him throb deep inside you, feel the thunder of a pained groan in his chest, pressed up against yours. Your cunt is all slick and give to his determined strokes as he begins to move.
There’s no finesse, hardly any awareness, when he fucks frantically into you. His solid weight pins you to the table, and it rattles precariously under your back.
Your legs are splayed obscenely wide and bent at the knees while Jack pounds into your wet heat, eyes wild and mouth hanging open, watching your tits bounce as you take him, your nails digging into the cotton of his white t-shirt. He never did take off your panties, and the fabric rubs your clit just so with every one of his thrusts, rapidly sending you to the edge.
In the back of your mind, you’re aware of the coarse scrape of his jeans against your inner thighs, and something digs hard into the tender skin, the repeated motion dulling the sensation to an almost numb pressure.
When you cum, you’re crying out before your head catches up, your body convulsing with blind bliss as your pussy clenches around him in a hot rush. The blood pounding in your ears is drowned out by your chants of his name, and then his hips start to stutter and his whole body tenses, frantic eyes on yours as he teeters on the edge.
‘Where, darlin’?’
‘Inside me.’
The words have barely left you and he’s coming, broken pants against your lips as he comes and comes and comes - spilling inside you, filling you to the brim until he’s empty, turned inside out.
Slumped, boneless on top of you, humid pants pressed into your shoulder, his fingers tangle with yours, squeezing as if to let you know that he’s here.
You almost doze off, the gradually slowing rise and fall of the cowboy’s broad chest a comforting anchor, when he rouses you with gentle lips along your jaw. You giggle, feeling him softening and sliding out of you, making a mess of your kitchen table.
‘Mornin’ darlin’,’ he says somewhat belatedly, warm eyes crinkling as he smiles at you.
‘Morning,’ you grin back, and when he shifts, you wince at the ache in your joints from being pinned to one spot for this very vigorous wake up call. His hands smooth over your legs in apology, and you jump when his fingertips brush over somewhere at the juncture of your upper thigh that is surprisingly sore.
‘What’s that?’ you ask, puzzled.
Jack doesn’t answer, curiously quiet. You look down to where he’s bracketed between your legs, watching him trace his index finger over the unmistakable imprint of his distinct belt buckle on the inside of your thigh, where it’s been digging into your skin the whole time.
He glances at you. ‘I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?’
‘No, you didn’t,’ you give him a knowing grin. ‘And are you really sorry, cowboy?’
He doesn’t even have the decency to look sheepish. Gently pinching your swollen folds together, he groans when a milky bead of his cum dribbles out of you, running down the inside of your leg and smearing onto the flask-shaped impression.
‘Ain’t sorry about somethin’ that looks this good on you, darlin’.’
‘Could’ve asked me before you branded me, you know,’ you half-joke, running your own finger along the deep lines carved into your skin, for now.
‘Beggin’ your pardon, I tend to forget my manners when I’m balls deep in a pussy as sweet as yours,’ he retorts, one eyebrow arching when he feels you shiver at his words.
You huff in jest, ‘Doesn’t sound like much of an apology if you asked me.’
‘Whatcha want, darlin’? Me on my hands and knees for you?’
Heat flashes under your skin, from your cheeks down to your toes, and Jack’s eyes darken as his tongue wets his bottom lip. ‘Alright. I hear you loud and clear, ma’am.’
Slowly, he sinks onto his knees in front of you, his joints creaking endearingly as he goes, and you can’t help but tease, ‘Easy there, cowboy.’
The wicked tip of his tongue peeks out, and you bite your lip in a moan when it cleverly traces the outline of the belt buckle on your skin, ending in a playful nip that pulls a gasp from you.
With an unapologetically smug grin, Jack winks. ‘I’m only just gettin’ started, darlin’.’
Note: Thank you for reading ❤️ I’ve missed these two, and if you’re new to Palomino, I hope you’ll give the series a chance!
#palomino series#jack daniels fanfiction#jack daniels x reader#jack daniels x you#jack daniels x f!reader#jack daniels x fem!reader#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey x you#agent whiskey x f!reader#agent whiskey x fem!reader#x reader#jack daniels imagine#agent whiskey imagine#jack daniels smut#agent whiskey smut
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i think i need someone older ⸜❤︎⸝
#it’s giving dbf!#mi amor pedrito :(#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#agent whiskey#jack daniels#javier peña#kingsman#narcos#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey x you#jack daniels x reader#jack daniels x you#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#agent whiskey smut#jack daniels smut#javier peña smut
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bull ride
summary: out at a bar, jack watches you ride a mechanical bull and he can't wait to go home so you can ride the real thing.
pairing: jack “whiskey” daniels x f!reader
word count: 2.0k
warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n (but a lot of nicknames); some swearing; dirty talk; unprotected p in v; public sex (kinda); spanking; jack being lowkey cringe
• masterlist •
This had been supposed to be just a nice little evening out at the bar in town. Just a few drinks, some food and each other's company.
What Jack hadn’t expected to happen was to watch his girl ride a mechanical bull while he had the hardest boner of his life. He hadn’t known that the bar had installed one of these things recently and he also hadn’t known that she was quite good at riding it.
Though he did know she was quite good at riding other things.
Jack watched her from his place at their table, sipping his whiskey as she was thrown back and forth, almost effortlessly moving with the mechanical beast. A laugh on her face the whole time, he swore she gave him a nasty little look whenever she faced him again, paired with a wink.
A wink that only made his dick throb harder.
Adjusting himself in his jeans, he stared at her bouncing breasts without any shame, a small hiss leaving him as he imagined her riding him like this. Moving back before she slid to the front again, pretending to wave a cowboy hat around with a loud laugh while the people around her cheered her on.
What a goddamn sight that was for his old cowboy heart. Seeing his girl ride a damn metal bull was as close as he’d ever get to see her ride the real thing.
She lasted an impressively long time, almost a minute long before she eventually got thrown off. Giggling and laughing all the while, her hair tousled and her face red when she came back to him. Adjusting her clothes as she walked.
And knowing immediately that he was horny as hell as she sat down opposite of him, the biggest grin on her face.
What a teasing little thing she was.
“I kinda wanna go again.” She said, sipping her own drink. The twinkle in her eye was playul, letting his blood boil hot.
“I know a different bull you can ride at home, sugar.” Jack replied with a wide grin, his dark mustache stretched wide over his white teeth. He shifted in place, his cock uncomfortably straining against the zipper of his jeans. “That one’s gonna be even more fun.”
A grin that matched his spread on her features, emptying the last of her drink while waving someone over to pay.
They had barely made it a quarter of the way home when he had to pull over, grabbing her by the chin to pull her into a hungry kiss, his fingers digging into her skin. Her hand reached out to palm him through his jeans, a low groan escaping him and tumbling right into her mouth.
He reluctantly pulled back, only to motion for her to get out and get into the truck bed of the Bronco. Needing her on his dick right now, riding him like she had that damn bull. The image still flickered in front of his eyes, the way she moved on that thing, like she knew exactly what she was doing to him.
“Wanted to be a cowgirl too, huh?” Jack asked, when he sat down at the edge of the truck bed, his hands on her waist pulling her closer. Their lips met again, his tongue slipping into her mouth while her arms snaked around the back of his neck, almost knocking his hat off of him.
“Maybe.” She giggled in between kisses, feeling his hands move under the hem of her shirt, his fingertips ghosting over her hot skin.
Who would have known this would get him so hot and bothered? Just by holding onto that thing like her damn life had depended on it.
Well, in a way she definitely had known. It was one of the reasons she had suggested this bar over the other ones they frequented.
“Let’s see how long you can last on this bull, pretty cowgirl.”
His hands moved to her jeans, working the button open before pulling down the zipper. Thank fuck it was summer, Jack really couldn’t have waited all the way home if it was any colder than right now.
Her pussy was already wet when he let his hand wander into her pants, rubbing over the slick, wet spot that had formed on her panties. She whimpered against his lips, breaking from him to look down at where his hand vanished, finding her clit through her underwear and pressing against it with one thick finger.
Languid movements, chuckling at how her breath hitched in her throat and her hips bucked into his touch. Rubbing over it again and again, enjoying the sweet sounds that left her, gasping and moaning, her feet shuffling apart.
“Jack, please.” She moaned, her lips finding his again in a sloppy kiss, her hands cupping his cheeks. “Don’t tease me, please, baby.”
His finger pressed down harder before he moved his hand back, biting her lip when she whined in protest. Going from cocky to putty in his hands so quickly.
Such a sweet thing, helping him take off her pants, her own hands palming his hard cock, making him groan.
“You’ve been teasin’ me the whole time you were on that damn thing.” He said, yanking her underwear down her legs while she continued kissing him. “C’mon, darlin’, you know this bull needs that cowgirl to ride him.”
A giggle left her, helping him to quickly work open his pants and move them down far enough over his ass that his cock sprang free. Hard and angry, in some desperate need for attention.
Jack hoisted her up, her legs straddling his narrow hips. He really didn’t care that they were on the side of the road and any passing car could see them do this, they were practically in the middle of nowhere anyways.
Taking his hat off of his head, he placed it on hers with a smirk, his hand finding her hips again and squeezing the warm flesh hard. How pretty she looked like this, watching her take his cock in hand to line herself up with him before she slowly sank down.
A guttural sound left her, enjoying the way he stretched her open more and more with every inch, until she sat in his lap.
“Atta girl, lookin’ so pretty takin’ my dick.” He chuckled, giving her ass a sharp smack which made her gasp. “C’mon, show me up close how you rode that thing.”
As she started to move, bouncing in his lap while bracing herself on his broad chest, he leaned back onto his elbows, enjoying the show. Mesmerized by how his dick vanished inside of her tight pussy over and over again, glistening in the low lights.
It made it hard to not just cum instantly, her perfect tits jiggling with every movement, her head thrown back. All while she kept making those noises, unabashed and loud in the silence of the night.
“Oh, fuck, Jack.” She moaned, one of her hands moving to her own breast, kneading it, rolling her nipple between two fingers. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
He chuckled, just watching her work.
“You liked ridin’ that bull more than this one, didn’t you, sugar?” The words were meant to egg her on, her hips stuttering momentarily before falling back into a rhythm, faster now. “Probably still thinkin’ ‘bout that huge piece of metal between your legs.”
She whimpered, his words only getting her closer to the edge. Changing the angle just slightly, she finally found more friction against her clit while his cock dragged along all the wonderful parts inside of her pussy. So thick and deep, each bounce better than the last.
Fuck, she wished he was fucking her right now, pounding her into the truck bed, knowing he would make it fast but hard with how worked up he was.
It was a miracle he hadn’t busted inside of her yet.
“No, Jack.”
He chuckled, one of his hands reaching out to smooth over her hip and down to her ass, caressing the spot where it had come down harshly. Only to do so again, loving the noises that left her lips.
“You better not, the only bull you need to ride is right here, sugar.” He said, helping her movements by guiding them once they started to falter.
Completely lost in the feeling of his cock, eyes closed and bouncing on him like her life depended on it.
“Just work it, baby, just like that.” The praise made her feel hot, sweat breaking on her skin as she continued to focus on the feeling of him inside of her. “Gimme a yeehaw, sweet cowgirl, c’mon!”
It was ridiculous, a breathless giggle leaving her as she opened her eyes and looked at him. She loved the smirk on his lips and the mischievous glint in his eyes.
Still, she obliged, taking one hand off his chest to lift his hat off of her head, just like she had pretended to earlier.
“Yeehaw, baby!” She yelled, making him laugh beneath her, wishing he could take a picture of this. Her, against the starry sky in the middle of nowhere, waving his hat around.
Maybe he should do that another time.
“Atta girl, keep ridin’ it, show that bull who’s the boss!”
Another harsh smack on her ass, the area red and stinging but simply adding to the feeling.
Jack could be so ridiculous sometimes, but she enjoyed it, grinding down into him harder.
“This bull’s got some stamina.” She breathed out, nothing but a whiny whisper. “Fuck, I’m close.”
He sat up again, his hands pushing her down into his lap, feeling her grip him tight when his lips found hers.
“Soak it, sugar,” Jack groaned against her lips, teetering right on the edge, “be a good little cowgirl for me and soak my cock with that talented pussy.”
His fingers found her clit, hurling her right over the edge with just the smallest touch, her arms wrapping around his neck once again as her pussy convulsed around him, breathless moans leaving her.
It made her head spin, the intensity of her orgasm and as her hips faltered, he kept guiding her movements, his fingers still working on her clit. Too much at once, biting his lip as he finally fell over as well.
Pressing her down into his lap, his dick spilling deep inside of her with a deep groan. He could never get enough of that feeling of her tight pussy.
His arms encircled her waist, keeping her close as she slowly caught her breath, slumped against him. That was too much of a workout tonight, first her session on the mechanical bull and now her rodeo on this one.
“What a ride.” She chuckled, leaning back to look at him. Taking his hat off of her, she placed it back on his head. “How d’you enjoy this rodeo, cowboy?”
Jack laughed, squeezing her tight.
What a filthy little thing.
“Never enjoyed bein’ ridden more than with this damn fine cowgirl on top of me.” He answered, giving her a little pat on the hip, signalling her to move off of him. If they were home already, she could have stayed sitting on his cock all night long but unfortunately they still had a bit of a drive in front of them.
She understood, moving off of him, still smiling but missing the feeling of him inside of her already.
Jack helped her get dressed again after he had put his own pants back in place, steadying her as she stood on wobbly legs.
“Which one did you enjoy more, darlin’?” He asked once they were finished and back in the car again. “There’s only one right answer here, sugar, so choose carefully.”
She giggled, pretending to think for a moment as he started the Bronco and took off.
“The mechanical one was wild.” She said, seeing him raise an eyebrow, just the corner of his lips curling up. “But nothing’s better than the real deal, don’t worry, Jack.”
He laughed at that, shaking his head.
“Nothin' better than a real bull to ride, that’s true, sugar.” Looking over at her briefly, she could still see the mischief in his eyes, promising nothing good. “But you should get a few more lessons in, cowgirl. There’s a lot to learn.”
She rolled her eyes, one of her hands laying on his thigh.
“And I’m sure you’ll be more than happy to teach me “
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❅ pedro characters a-j
↳ including pedro pascal, dave york, dieter bravo, dio morrissey, din djarin, ezra, frankie morales, jack "agent whiskey" daniels, javi gutierrez, javier pena & joel miller
❅ pedro characters k-z
↳ including pedro pascal, marcus moreno, marcus pike, maxwell lord, max phillips, pero tovar, tim rockford, zach wellison
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal smut#oberyn martell#oberyn martell smut#joel miller#joel miller x gn!reader#joel miller smut#joel miller angst#dave york#dave york smut#javier pena#javier pena smut#dieter bravo#dieter bravo smut#dieter bravo fluff#jack daniels smut#jack daniels#agent whiskey#agent whiskey smut#din djarin#din djarin smut#din djarin fluff#the mandalorian#frankie morales#javi gutierrez#javi gutierrez smut#frankie morales smut#tim rockford#pero tovar#pero tovar smut
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save a horse (ride a cowboy)
agent whiskey x f!reader
sometimes you get a little… jealous
words: 1.5k
warnings: smut, office sex, mentions of voyeurism
⋆⭑✦⭑⋆
You know your partner.
You know how he flirts with most people he meets, but you also know how he would never be unfaithful to you. But, you can’t help but get a bit jealous when you hear him tease other girls.
You checked in two women for a meeting with the Agent: an older lady and a young college student who both work for a private investigation company. You can hear the younger girl giggling through the glass door- giggling. You’re sure Whiskey is pulling his usual tricks to strike a deal with the ladies.
You find yourself gripping your pen harder than usual.
The meeting ends at precisely 4:35.
The women kindly bid their goodbye, but the younger’s face is bright red.
Frustrated, you input the time into your system.
You smooth out your pencil skirt and fix your hair when you stand up. The room is awfully quiet; you need a certain Statesman agent to break the silence.
The automatic door opens with a quiet swish, revealing Whiskey sitting behind his desk. He’s staring intently at his computer, most likely sending off emails to his fellow agents.
“Jack Daniels.”
Whiskey beams, leaning back in his office chair.
“Well hell-o little miss,” He drawls, slightly tilting his head to the side. He beckons you with one hand, and pats his thigh twice. “C’mere, sugar.”
You keep your gaze firm, even though you want to stumble over to him like a newborn deer and collapse in his arms. Your heels click softly on the polished hardwood as you approach him, and instead of slipping into his lap, you stand behind him. Resting your hands on his shoulders, you give him a little squeeze.
“Did you have a productive meeting?” You ask, kissing his cheek. A bit of stubble pokes your lips, but you don’t mind.
“I sure did,” He replies, smoothing the fabric of his pants.
You twist a lock of his dark hair between your fingers, and trail more kisses down the sharp line of his jaw. He exhales a shaky breath, tightening his grip on the arms of the chair.
“Were those girls nice, Agent?” You continue. Whiskey shifts in his seat, noticeably aroused.
“They sure were- sweetheart, may I ask why you’re interrogatin’ me right now?”
You hum, running your fingers over the knot of his tie.
“I’m sure if you’d given them the chance, they’d be all over you,” You comment. “I mean, who wouldn’t? That’s what happened with us.”
The corner of Whiskey’s mouth turns upwards.
“Is that what this is all about?” He asks.
You maneuver yourself around and slip onto his lap, straddling his thick thighs with yours. His calloused hands immediately fly to your waist, steadying you.
“Maybe,” You breathe, cupping his face in both of your hands.
“You and I both know that I’d never touch another woman as long as you’re with me,” He says. His fingers find their way under the hem of your pencil skirt, and his touch burns.
“That so?” You ask, trying not to melt at his words. He hums, turning his head to the side and kissing your palm.
“You gonna let me show you how much you mean to me?”
You nod, breathless, and kiss him.
His kisses are always sloppy, a little messy, but they’re so full of passion that you don’t mind. Accidentally, you knock his cowboy hat off of his head.
“Are-“ You whine when his lips meet your neck, mustache rubbing against your sensitive skin. “Are you going to lock the door?’
“Maybe I’ll keep it open,” Whiskey drawls between kisses. “I’m sure those girls would love to see you, squirmin’ like a bug on my lap. Or maybe that shy little intern- what was his name? Frankie? I see the way he looks at you when he brings up papers.”
You moan, grinding your clothed cunt against his thighs.
“Jack…”
You’ve given up on your original plan. Whenever his hands- oh, his hands, cup your ass, you lose any semblance of rational thought.
Whiskey pulls away, making sure you’re balanced, and fiddles with the top button of your blouse. You usually keep a few undone because Whiskey likes it, but it’s clear he wants to see a little more than what you’re showing.
“Just gorgeous,” He groans when he fiddles with the last button, leaving your stomach and bra exposed.
“C-Can you lock the door?” You ask bashfully, shivering when Whiskey’s fingers brush over the curves of your hips.
“‘Course,” He says. Wrapping his arm around your waist to keep you steady, he leans forward and logs on to his high tech computer. There’s a faint beeping sound from the keypad outside of the frosted glass door.
“Make me so fuckin’ hard, baby,” Whiskey groans, gripping your wrist and guiding your hand to his crotch. As expected, your hand brushes against the hard outline of his cock, trapped in the fabric of his jeans. “Feel that? S’all for you.”
A strangled moan falls from your lips, and you give him a gentle squeeze.
“Let me-“ You stop mid-thought and hastily undo the clasp of his belt. The metal clang interrupts the sound of your heavy breathing: the only sound in the office. Your hands shake as you fiddle with his zipper, and with a deep breath you pull out his cock from his boxers.
Whiskey moans deeply at your touch. He’s warm and hard and you want him inside you so bad.
“Stand up, baby, take off your skirt,” He orders. You can see him clench his jaw, most likely restraining himself from standing up and throwing you against the desk.
Your legs are shaky as you unzip the back of your skirt, pulling the black fabric downwards. Watching you with dark eyes, your partner slowly pumps his cock.
“Sit back down, princess,” He murmurs, patting his thigh with his free hand.
Damn straight, You think. I’m his princess.
“Jack, I- I want to feel you.”
You notice the way his dick has left a wet spot on his dress shirt- shit, now he’s going to have to go home and change, all because of you-
“Mm!” You exclaim when Whiskey’s rough fingers find themselves inside your panties, pressing against your swollen clit. You have to grip onto his broad shoulders while he massages your wet cunt.
You’re a little upset when he pulls his hand away.
“Soaked.”
You feel like the air gets knocked out of your chest when he brings his fingers to his lips, tasting you.
“So sweet,” He growls. “Sweet like a goddamn Georgia peach. Wish I could taste you all day.”
His words feel like they make your body temperature rise to a thousand.
“Whiskey,” You half scold, half moan.
“Fuckin’- wanna bend over the desk? Let me fuck you from behind?”
You shake your head, gripping onto the expensive fabric of his suit jacket.
“Let me ride you, Jack.”
Whiskey throws his head back and swears. You let out a breathy laugh; you, and only you, can have him wrapped around your finger.
“I’ll let you do whatever you want,” He blurts, cock twitching against his stomach. “You gonna ride this cowboy, sugar?”
“Yeah,” You breathe, and your thighs shake as you lift your core enough so he can slip inside you. Whiskey holds your panties to the side while he guides the tip of his cock to your entrance. The two of you moan as you drop downwards, your ass pressing against his thighs.
“Shit,” He grunts through his teeth.
You take a moment to catch your breath before moving.
Jack keeps his hands on your waist, but leans forward to chase your lips. You cup his face in your hands, mindlessly kissing him while you move your hips. He fills you up so well, stretching and stuffing you in a way no one else can. You’re no stranger to this, in fact you’re quite skilled, but your legs still burn from the effort. It’s nothing compared to the way Whiskey’s cock slides in and out of you, though.
“Just like that,” He mumbles in between kisses.
You clench around him every time your clit brushes against his jeans. You’re sure Whiskey can feel it too; he squeezes his eyes shut each time it happens.
“S’good, sweetheart,” He praises. “Ready to cum?”
You shout in pleasure, nodding vigorously. His fingers find their way back to your clit, rubbing quick circles against you.
Your whole body shakes from your release.
It’s embarrassingly quick, but Jack keeps mumbling “that’s a good girl” in your ear. He continues to thrust into you, his movements becoming sloppy and erratic.
You slump against his chest while he finishes deep inside you, hips stuttering against your skin.
“Ain’t never had a better girl than you,” He says softly, brushing the back of his hand against your cheek. You smile; he always gets soft after he’s with you.
Before you can respond, the computer lights up.
Incoming Video Call: Agent Champagne
#hello gorgeous!#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey x you#agent whiskey smut#jack daniels x reader#dearest writing
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Smutty Reccomends 18+
because i’m a whore for emotionally unavailable middle aged fictional men who can break my back and rearrange my guts, I’ve decided to compile a list of some of my favorites written by a lot of you unholy creatures out there😗
this list is clearly 18+ so MDNI pls and thank you🙂
Moon Boys
Office Party — Marc Spector x Fem! reader @romanarose — it was a party in my ovaries after reading this🙂
Praise Worthy — Steven Grant x fem! reader @starks-hero
Satisfactory Pt. 2 — Jake Lockley x fem! reader @welcometostayingawake JESUS. the amount of times i’ve gone back to read part one and two got me a front row seat on satan’s lap.
Tag Team — Marc Spector x fem! reader x Steven Grant x Jake Lockley @babyboibucky lawd have merthy🏃🏻♀️
Venus, Planet of Love — Steven Grant x fem! reader @peterthepark
Cracked Perfection — Jake Lockley x reader @jake-g-lockley just.. this man has me in a chokehold.
A Long Night — Steven Grant x reader/Marc Spector x reader/ Jake Lockley x reader @myfictionaldreams
Sunshine — Marc Spector x fem! reader @readerthatreadsss
Forbearance — Marc Spector x f! reader @inklore
Joel Miller
Morning Delight — no outbreak joel x fem! reader @ozarkthedog
Mine Truly and Forever part two — joel miller x fem/afab! reader @me-and-your-husband
The Third Date — pre-outbreak joel x fem! reader @guess-my-next-obsession good god.
The Reunion — joel miller x fem! reader @apenny4thots
Moment’s Silence — joel miller x fem! reader @nexusnyx
First Rays of Dawn — joel miller x fem! reader @deardjo
Miss Sunshine — pre-outbreak joel x neighbor! reader @nexusnyx THIS. one of my absolute favorites
Agent Whiskey
you can hear the song i know you can.
Save a Horse (ride a cowboy) — agent whiskey x fem! reader @deardjarin
Sugar — agent whiskey x fem! reader @punkpascalita
Frank Castle
Fight and Fuck — Frank Castle x reader @chrisevansredbelt
My Girl — Frank Castle x reader @frankcastlescumslut
no. no i no longer have ovaries after this so you’re welcome🫶🏻 might update as i find new favorites to add but until then, please give all these authors the love and reblogs they deserve!!
#moon knight#tlou#joel miller#marvel#frank castle#frank castle x reader#joel x reader#joel the last of us#marc spector smut#marc spector#joel miller smut#frank castle smut#agent whiskey#agent whiskey smut#agent whiskey x reader#marc spector x reader#steven grant#steven grant smut#steven grant x reader#jake lockley#jake lockley smut#jake lockley x reader
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Pick up || Agent Whiskey x Reader
summary: Hooking up with a chick at a rock concert? More like fucking a cowboy in a pick up truck.
warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, afab!reader, dirty talk, reader rides whiskey, fingering, handjob, swearing, he slaps your ass once.
a/n: here is my entry for @iamasaddie moodboard writing thingy. I've never written whiskey before so uhhh hope u like it!!
You just met the guy and he was hard to resist with that stupid cowboy hat and tight ass jeans. Normally that cocky kind of confidence was not your thing.
You've dealt with many a guy who think they're gods gift to women when in reality they're nothing but carbon copies of the same douchebag.
But he was hot and truthfully you were looking for a good fuck and if that bulge in his jeans wasn't a good enough indication then it was the way women seemed to fawn over him. Already knowing his name and shamelessly begging him for one more night.
After drinking enough alcohol to make your brain all fuzzy you were dead set on getting fucked by that cowboy tonight. Jack was all fucking for it. Hot and bold, he doesn't need to charm his way when you're already ready to take his cock down your throat. He smirks as he leans closer to you. His arm resting right near your head as he makes a show of looking you up and down.
"Howdy cowboy," You flick the top of his hat and he chuckles.
"Howdy, darlin'." He sneaks his hand to your back and you don't mind it.
"So you really a cowboy? Because I heard cowboys like to play a little rough." You tug on his leather jacket and press your chest against his. Looking up with lustful eyes.
"Wanna find out?" He brushes his lips against your cheek and your eyes flutter closed.
The two of you are stumbling out of the bar, his lips can't stay off your neck or shoulder as you struggle to stay on your feet. You spot a pick up truck sitting towards the back of the lot.
"A truck, what no horse?" You tease as he grabs your ass shamelessly.
"Oh I've got a horse alright." He purrs as he walks you to his car. He opens the door for you but you gesture for him to get in instead. His eyes light up as he realizes what you want.
"Can't wait for me can you?" You don't say a word as you climb onto his lap. He puts the seat back to give you more room and wastes no time in helping you out of that dress.
"Fuck sweetheart," He groans as you grind your hips.
He squeezes your tits making you moan. Teasing the nipple as he runs his hands along your body and back up to your chest. You play with his belt buckle and he shimmies out of his jeans and boxers. His cock springs free and damn he wasn't joking when he said he had a horse.
You spit in your hand and wrap it around his cock. Watching as he leans back and groans in pleasure. It's hard and leaking and ready to be buried in your cunt. He grabs your face and pulls you down in a messy kiss. His hands move further down until he slips two fingers inside of your cunt. You moan into his mouth and he lets you bury your face in his shoulder. He's fucking your cunt mercilessly with his fingers. His lips kiss and bite along your neck.
"Fuck I need you." You whine. He takes his fingers out and grabs a condom from the cup holder of his car.
"Think you can ride baby?" His thumb rubs circles into your hip. "Absolutely." You grab his hat and place it on your head. He grins as he helps guide your hips down on his cock. His eyes shut in pleasure as you sink down all the way. Taking all of him at once.
"Oh fuck darlin', so fucking tight." Your hands rest on his shoulders as you bounce on his cock. He's got one hand on your ass and the other squeezing one of your boobs.
"You're so big." You whine as you grind your hips back and forth, loving the feeling of his dick hitting deep inside of you.
"I'm from Texas baby."
"Alright-" You're cut off by a loud moan as he bucks his hips up. Smirking as you bury your face in his shoulder.
"Ah ah, I wanna hear you." He grabs your chin and forces you to look him in the eye as he starts to fuck up into you. Whimpers fall from your lips as you bounce with his hips, wanting him as deep as you can.
"Fuck fuck!" Your legs burn but you're too overwhelmed with pleasure to care.
"Come on darlin', let me feel you come on my cock." Your legs shake as you finally break.
Your cunt clenches around him and he groans as he recklessly fucks his hips up. Chasing his high, you're soaking wet and so fucking warm it doesn't take long until he's coming hard. You rest your forehead against his and he gently runs his hands up and down your back. His cowboy hat is slipping off your head and he fixes it. He bites his lips as he takes in your naked body and his hat sitting on your head.
"So, want to come back to my place? Don't think you've shown me enough yet." He snorts as he takes his hat back.
"Darlin' you can barely sit up without my help." He leans closer and slaps your ass suddenly.
"But if you think I'm not rough enough here, just wait till you're in my bed. I'll have you screaming my name and shaking, fuck you until you can't remember anything but what my cock feels like." You moan softly at his words, your thighs pressing together to give yourself some relief.
"Bring it cowboy."
#jack daniels#jack daniels x reader#agent whiskey#agent whiskey x reader#jack daniels smut#agent whiskey smut
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COWBOY CHRISTMAS - A Jack Daniels (Agent Whiskey) Christmas One Shot
Summary: Your husband Jack takes you out on a snowy Christmas Eve horse ride around the ranch, then helps you thaw out after.
Pairing: Husband!Jack Daniels x Wife!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)
Word Count: 5k
Scoville Smut Rating: 🌶️🌶️🌶️ "You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me."
Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.
Warnings/triggers - Established relationship/unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/fingering.
NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.
If this story isn't for you, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.
Author’s Note: Husband Jack hits differently and I'm here for it. Horsey speak researched because I'm not a horsey person. Neigh. I hope you enjoy spending Christmas with Jack. 🎄
Tagging @ladybess-a03 as Jack is her husband 🤠🖤
12 DAYS OF XXX-MAS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
Enjoy & Happy Holidays! 🎄🖤
“Now, you hold on tight to them reins there, sugar. Don’t want ol’ Thunder here gallopin’ off into the breach.” Jacks says to you with a wink.
You watch as he buttons up his denim jacket; a woolly sheepskin lines the collar inside around his neck. “Hoo, it’s a chilly one this mornin’!” He exclaims in that Southern twang making sweet, unbashed love to his vocal chords.
“Remind me why I let you talk me into this?” You say, feeling the cold rake it’s sharp fingernails down your spine.
“'Cause I can talk you into anythin'." He grins. "Besides, you’re gonna love it.” He assures.
“I love our warm bed more.” You mutter, trying not to smirk.
You grip tight on the leather reins with your gloved hands as the horse snuffles gently; the cool air wisps out of his large, wet nostrils in gossamer tendrils, floating into the air.
The snow is fresh and crisp on the ground; the Ranch is covered in billowy marshmallows heaped on the roof like someone let the powdered sugar pour overnight. The whole scene looks as though a snow globe has been shaken up and long since settled with the coarse glitter of it all glimmering under the pallor of the winter sun; a pale blue orb lingering in the sky.
A Christmas Eve morning horse ride with your husband Jack sounded appealing when he suggested it, but now that you’re the one in the driver’s seat so to speak, you're not so sure, as your stomach tosses about with the anxiousness of it all.
It’s not that you’re not a keen rider, it’s just that Jack’s array of Appaloosas and Mustangs from the rodeo show - that’s been a lucrative business for you both, if not but a hectic one - can always seem to sense your trepidation, and do everything they can to keep you from venturing near them, let alone mounting them.
But Jack’s a determined son of a gun to get you used to it, and a few lessons with a deep brown Lusitano named Thunder, seem to be paying off, as the two of you bond the more time you spend with the stallion.
Thunder stands at a regal sixteen hands, his physique a perfect blend of strength and elegance. His coat is a rich chestnut, gleaming under the dappled sunlight like polished mahogany. He's probably the most handsome thing you've ever laid eyes on, aside from your husband, of course.
Jack had assured you that Thunder’s physique, combined with his gentle demeanour and keen intelligence, made him not just a stunning horse, but also an ideal companion for you.
And that smooth talking cowboy hadn’t been wrong yet.
Jack hoists himself up, grunting with a steely puff as he settles on the double saddle behind you. Not brave enough yet to go it alone in the snow, Jack rides tandem with you this morning.
The front of his Stetson knocks gently against the back of your head as he adjusts, and the horse pads his front hooves in anticipation to get going.
“Easy, Thunder,” he soothes as he reaches around and checks the reins. “You good to go, sweet thing?” Jack asks you.
“What are you going to hold on to?” You query as he lets go of the reins, turning to glance at him over your shoulder warily.
You’ve seen Jack ride plenty of times, to the point he trusts his stallions and mares implicitly. There's some magical fluidity between them as you watch from the sidelines of the paddock when they practise together.
Although each time he rides free and un-reined, you can’t help but grimace and worry, especially when he shows off in the rodeo ring.
“Why, your gorgeous self, of course!” You feel him pinch your hips playfully and then his arms wrap around your waist. He pats your belly softly.
“I got you, nice n' tight.” The wetness of his lips are cold as they squish against your cheek where he kisses you affectionately. You giggle as his fuzzy moustache tickles against your skin.
“Now, you’re the one in control, remember. Just like I taught you. Pull back gently if you want him to slow down.”
“Okay.” You nod, taking in a deep breath and sounding much more confident than you actually feel. And Jack picks up on it and rubs your arms down.
“You’ve got nothin’ to worry about, sugar. He’s infatuated with you.” Jack reassures. He holds you tighter and runs his nose against the side of your face. “And he ain’t the only one.” he murmurs.
“You keep doing that and we’re never getting out of this damn paddock,” you groan as he nips against your lobe, tonguing it slyly.
Despite the cold, you suddenly feel the warmth creeping up under your jacket trying to strangle you.
He chuckles and pulls back, sitting himself upright and placing his hands together around your waist again.
“Let’s skedaddle.” He instructs.
You breathe out, clicking your tongue twice and squeeze your legs gently against the underside of Thunder. He immediately trots forward languidly.
“There you go, nice n' easy there. See, he ain’t so buck wild after all, is he now?” Jack says.
“No, he’s a good boy,” you say, leaning forward and patting Thunder’s head as he strides forward out the paddock. “A good boy that’s going to go nice and slow, okay?” You whisper, imploring the horse.
Thunder simply snorts in response.
You settle into it; a gentle trot across the acres of the Ranch on this wintery morning. You can feel the cold biting against your face as you tuck your chin into your scarf to ward off the nip.
The scene is magical; treetops covered in plumes of glittery white, and every sound seems more muted somehow, wrapped up in a bundle of snow that acts as a cosy insulator.
The soft pads of Thunder’s hooves against the cold ground, and Jack's breathing just behind your ear, are the only sounds you can hear around the exquisite peace.
And you lose yourself to it, closing your eyes and resting back against Jack’s chest as you relax into the ride together.
“You doin’ alright there?” Jack asks, and you feel his gloved hands rubbing back and forth against your stomach creating fluttery wings to beat and flap around inside of it.
“Mmm,” you reply. “This is just beautiful.” You confirm feeling more taken with it all. “This was a great idea.”
“I’m mighty glad you feel that way, darlin’. We gotta get you out ridin’ some more.” Jack suggests.
“I do plenty of riding, cowboy.” You toss a hot smirk at him over your shoulder.
“Christ. Ain’t that the truth.” He chuckles.
You feel his hands squeeze your hips again and his breaths are felt warming in the crook of your neck.
“Wanna kick it up a notch?”
“Go faster?” You peep with alarm.
“Sure, you can handle it.”
“But the snow, isn’t that dangerous?”
Jack scoffs. “Snow’s fresh, darlin’. No ice.”
“But-”
“Gotta trust in your horse.”
You make an uncertain noise in the back of your throat.
“Ain’t gonna let anythin’ happen to you.” Jack reassures and your uncertainty begins to waver as you feel yourself melt in the sincerity of his eyes.
“Okay.” You nod, smiling.
“That’s my girl. Go on, now. Squeeze your calves against him. That’s it, you’re doin’ real good.” Jack praises as Thunder ups his paces to a gentle canter, full of brio and a little faster than his previous meandering.
He bows and nods his large head, whinnying.
“Oh see, he likes that. Our boy here was bred for speed.” Jack pats the back of the stallion’s neck and Thunder snuffles in response.
You can feel your fingers gripping tighter on the reins, your body tensing up.
“You trust me, sugar?” You hear Jack pollute in your ear.
You turn to look at him incredulously.
“He wants to run. Gotta give it to him.”
“Oh God.” You wince.
You steady yourself as Thunder nickers and snuffles again. Jack takes your hand and weaves it around Thunder’s mane. A trick he does himself whilst on the rodeo to be sure to stay on if the horse should suddenly veer off.
Your gloved fingers hold tightly through the silken hair whilst your other hand grips on the reins as tight as you can.
“He’ll take care of you. We both will.” Jack takes a hold of the reins with you, his arms either side. “Hold on tight, darlin’.”
You steady yourself, holding on tightly as he instructs and bracing yourself.
“Hup! Hup!” You hear Jack instruct Thunder with a sharp command, and the horse bolts forward.
He attacks the gallop at full speed, like he's running for his life. Like he was born to do nothing else other then run.
“Shit, Jack!” You gasp, as he takes full control.
The sounds of Thunder’s hooves are louder and feel like they crack and echo across the sky. Your body is forced into a galloping rhythm; your butt bashing up and down against the saddle as you try to find some comfort with it.
You rise up, remembering to anchor yourself in the stirrups, leaning forward like your body is floating as Thunder moves under you.
You can feel Jack’s body against yours, moving with you. He has both hands on the reins, but has manoeuvred so you're safe inside his arms too.
“See why I named him Thunder now?!” Jack muses as he bears down on the reins and the horse’s speed increases furthermore.
You can feel Thunder’s muscles bunch and release. You can feel and hear his hooves hit the ground in heavy thuds that ricochet through your skeleton, and see the hypnotic, rhythmic motion of his head, which you’re following with your hands.
It’s exhilarating.
The cold wind whips through your bones, despite the jacket and scarf’s protection. You hear Jack holler and chuckle behind you.
“Alright now!” He cheers triumphantly as Thunder takes a sharp turn, effortlessly, and you cling on for dear life grounding down on your teeth and steadying yourself with your stirrups.
“Oh my God!” You wail as the exhilaration begins to twist that fear into utter elation.
Your teeth feel the cold as you can’t contain the wild smile opening up your lips as you giggle and holler alongside Jack; his enthusiasm and passion for the ride infecting you.
The wind is blowing so hard that you really can’t see or hear very clearly and Thunder’s ears twitch up as you holler an enthusiastic woo! Into the air. It feels like you're flying as the wind streams tears from your eyes.
Thunder’s hooves beat frantically against the snow and the ride through the acres soon comes to an end as Jack instructs you to slow Thunder to a steady trot once more.
You can sense Thunder’s reluctance, he would run forever if he could, but you pull on the reins and announce for him to slow and he does.
“Woah, easy. Easy…” you soothe as he tries to resist, but eventually settles back into that steady canter as you all catch your collective breath.
You wipe your eyes with the back of your woolly hand and Jack smiles at you.
“That was amazing,” you admit, your body shaking, not just from the cold now.
“I knew you’d love it.” He replies, grinning. “Your husband knows you better than you think.”
“Sometimes,” you tease.
“Sometimes?” He scoffs and stamps another kiss on your cold cheek.
Once in the paddock, Jack jumps off and helps you down. You lunge for him, planting a heavy kiss on his lips and slip your tongue into his hot, wet mouth.
“What’s got you so hot n’ bothered, hmm?” He murmurs against your lips.
“Adrenaline.” You shrug giggling, as you stroke the back of Jack's nape where his brown curls gather under his suede Stetson.
His hands sweep through your hair, messy from being wind-whipped and he studies your face with chocolate mocha eyes. You shiver as he pulls you to him.
“Fuck, sugar.” He groans as you press your mouth to his again; your kiss mutating into something desperate and untamed.
You both stumble backwards and Jack loses his footing and pulls you down with him in the muddy slush around the paddock.
“Ah shit,” he groans, chuckling.
You squeal as you feel the cold and wet instantly soak into your jeans. Scrambling, you try to get up, but slip further into the mud as Jack gives up and howls loudly at your plight.
He’s rewarded with a glop of mud thrown at his chest.
“Need a hand there, darlin’?” Once he’s contained himself enough, he helps you up and you both head back to the Ranch to warm up.
“Go on n’ get yourself inside. I’ll wrangle Thunder back into the stable. Reckon it might snow again soon.” He glances up at the sky, the sun long since besmirched by clouds of grey.
“Don’t take too long, handsome” you smirk.
“Lickety-split.” Jack breathes into your mouth as you kiss him again.
You look at the state of you both, covered in freezing mud, and Jack has some splashed up on his forehead, and you can’t help but laugh at the state of you both, despite shivering.
“Why don’t you run us a bath?” Jack suggests with dark eyes, and you nod as if under a captive spell.
You leave your muddy boots on the porch and head inside. The warmth hits you immediately and you shimmy yourself out of your wet jacket, blowing into your hands that feel like icicles, despite the gloves.
You pace up the stairs, wading somewhat as your jeans stick to you, to the bathroom and fill the large jacuzzi-style tub with hot water, stripping as you notice snowflakes starting to billow lightly outside.
“Missed your calling as a weatherman, Jack.” You snicker to yourself.
You toss in a fragrant bath bomb and light some incense filling the bathroom with heady notes of sandalwood, patchouli, and exotic florals; the swirling tendrils evoking a sense of tranquillity as your skin starts to perspire.
You step into the sizzling, enveloping water that seems to wrap its arms around you with the inviting warmth as you succumb to it wholly.
You breathe out slowly, moaning in relief as you slide your shoulders under the water, the temperature burning you slightly and relishing the feel of it.
You swill the water around; lavishing yourself in the foamy remnants of the bath bomb. You eventually lay still in the water and breathe in and out a few times, keeping your eyes closed.
Your cold, aching muscles from the ride find some sedated bliss in those first few moments; like someone has slowly squeezed the angst and stress out of you like juicing an orange.
You close your eyes and relax, feeling the weight start to drop from you.
The invigorating peace is interrupted by the bathroom door slowly creaking open and footsteps pad in lightly on the tiled floor.
You turn your head, smiling at Jack as he unbuttons his plaid shirt and drops it to his feet.
You sit up, watching him, and try not to obscenely salivate over your husband as he unbuckles his belt with a slow, deliberate simmer at you, but it's hard not to. He’ll always have that effect on you when he gets naked.
Your eyes roam over tan, sculpted arms, a svelte waist and long legs smattered with dark hairs, before you settle in on the thick, hardening cock between his legs.
“Scooch on forward, sugar,” he says softly with a wink, standing at the side of the tub; that semi hard-on already taking shape and protruding out from his lean, muscular body.
He steps in and sits down in the water behind you; his long legs running parallel either side of you.
“Couldn’t resist,” you hum.
“You gettin’ started without me, hmm?” Jack queries as he pulls you back into his chest, wrapping his arms over your stomach again.
You feel him plant kisses into your crown as you nuzzle into him.
“Scrub my back for me?” You question coyly over your shoulder, and flutter your eyelashes at him.
The steam in the bathroom makes the mirror frost over with condensation and the air seems to vibrate around you both and stick to your clammy skin.
You sit upright; the water making your back glisten at him and he licks his lips as he regards you.
“Well, how can I resist such a tempting offer?” Jack smiles and reaches for the soap on the side of the bath behind him, lathering it up in his big hands.
You feel his hands massaging into your shoulders; his fingers kneading away all the tension and the slippery feel of the soap foaming on your back, squelching through his thick digits.
“Mmm,” you sigh as he works his thumbs down either side of your spinal cord.
“That feel good, hmm?” Jack husks from behind you, squeezing and manipulating the muscles under your skin. He knows it’s good - knows it will drive you wild.
“Real good…” You utter, eyes closed and lost inside of his hypnotic rhythms and magic hands.
You can hear him breathe in your ear and feel him plant lascivious kisses down the side of your damp face. The faint scratch of his shaven jaw runs prickly against your skin; the soft fuzz of his moustache counteracting it begins to tickle again.
It begins to wake your nipples up; sending goosebumps to bloom around your areolas pulling them tight and tingly.
He runs his fingers down your back and up under your arms sitting forward himself, and slathers the soapy lather in his hands across your collarbone and down towards your breasts.
Your breath hitches as his roaming fingers tease your nipples, pulling and rolling them gently, and you sink back into his chest once more as he massages. He runs the open palms of his hands all over them; cupping, squeezing, fondling.
“That’s so nice,” you groan as he kisses the side of your temple.
“I told you, I know you well.” You can hear him grin, a graze inside your ear.
His wet, soapy fingers continue to work their way down your torso, gliding across your navel before he gives it a gentle squeeze and strokes gently.
“What’re we gonna name this lil’ dill pickle in here, hmm?” Jack asks, and you glance down at your tummy, still flat, but in a few months time it’ll be swollen and rotund as the baby grows.
“Depends what he looks like when he comes out. Hopefully not like a dill pickle. I hate pickles.” You say, crinkling your nose.
You hear Jack snort behind you into your hair. “Hates pickles. I married me a mad one.”
“You knew what you were getting yourself into, cowboy.” You chuckle.
“Mmhm. He?” He queries.
“Feels like a he.” You say, placing your hands on top of Jack’s. The light of your wedding band shimmering in the wet. “What do you think?”
“I think,” Jack breathes in, his lips grazing your skin behind your ear “as long as it’s healthy, darlin’, it don’t matter. Gonna love it all the same.”
You smile, reaching up behind you to stroke his face. You feel him peck your fingers.
“When he's out, I’ll put another one in there.” He confirms.
“Woah, hold your horses,” you say.
“You just try n’ stop me, sugar. Got yourself a virile man. Gonna have a whole bunch of lil’ rodeo riders gallopin’ about the joint.” Jack pinches your hips gently and you giggle when he hits a ticklish spot as he gruffs another chuckle in your ear.
He feels you flinch and the top of your buttocks push against his cock that has long since hardened completely under the water.
“Besides, I'm waitin’ for these to grow nice n’ big, too,” Jack smirks.
Jack kisses down the side of your face once more; his lips searching yours out and finally making contact with them as you twist yourself in the water to reach them.
His tongue darts into your mouth as he squeezes onto your right breast, and a satisfied grunt escapes into your mouth from him.
You splash water at him as he growls playfully into you, moaning as you kiss him again.
It makes all the hairs of your body stand tall to order, hearing him moan like that - moan for you. Warming you as you inhale them in; oxygen to your lungs.
Filling you deep with sweet images of him teaching your child - or several of them - to ride horses and take care of them. The thought of Jack’s paternal instincts rile you up even further.
Although it doesn’t take much with the hormones either.
His kiss is hungry; swallowing you up and you raise your wet hands to finger inside of his hair, weaving through it gently at first, but becoming fiercer with tugs as he reacts to it.
You wonder what else it’ll be that you’ll crave this much as your pregnancy advances, because you're constantly craving your husband inside you, night and day it seems.
And neither of you are complaining about it.
He follows the track of bubbles down your body with his hand, slides down over your torso and abdomen until his fingers reach forward and disappear between the middle of your legs inside the bubbly pool.
You gasp, breaking the kiss as you feel them instantly finding your clit and shudder as he swipes across it with the pads of his tips. They tease between your soapy folds. His middle finger starts tapping and rubbing against your hub, making you gasp into his mouth.
“Suck, darlin’... just like that.”
His other hand grips gently around under your face, stroking your jawline as his digits run over your lips when he breaks the kiss.
Hooded brown eyes regard you before inserting his index and middle finger into your mouth.
You suck on them gently, and run your tongue over them as his other fingers thrum heavier on your clit under the water, causing it to swill around you as you fidget, grinding against his fingers as he slowly teases you with them.
He can still feel the viscous slickness of you around them, feeling silkier in the water.
“You feel that, sugar? What you’re doin’ to me? Got my cock all big n' hard for you.” His fingers move off your clit and begin to take a walk inside of you, and you gasp again in delight.
Jack marvels with mud coloured eyes as you lap at his fingers, imagining they’re his cock. They taste slightly salty like it; rough and calloused skin being soothed by your tongue.
He groans into your ear nipping at your lobe, as you feel him pressing against your lower back and getting harder by the second.
“Mmm, Jack…” His name escapes out of your mouth, dripping in honey and all things sweet.
The fingers you’ve been sucking on run across your throat and he kisses you more forcefully as he slides his digits in and out of your pussy, gaining momentum.
Your part your legs wider so he can delve in further to you, arching back up against him as the sensation of tingles flood outwards from your core all over your body and skin, crackling outwards like fuzzed lightning.
“Fuck!” You pant as he works you up and pushes you closer and closer to the edge until you finally leap off.
An electrifying sensation courses through you, sparking an intoxicating blend of satisfaction and euphoria as you gasp out.
“Jack!”
“Fuck, darlin’, that’s it.” Jack encourages as the heel of his palm grinds heavily against your clit as he fingers you through your pulsing orgasm.
Your thighs jolt and shudder as he strokes gentler now, teasing circles around your sensitive bud after withdrawing his slick soaked fingers.
You twist around in the bath completely to face him. You want him; want him hard and are going to take him - hard.
“Fuck,” you moan, taking him in.
He lays back in the tub, knees open wide with plumes of suds, and cock resting heavy and thick against his stomach.
It makes you salivate to see him like this; so fucking gorgeous and wet, and all yours.
“See somethin’ you like?” He smirks.
You run your drenched hands over his cock, nodding. Feeling how he pulses and the veins throb around your grip as you jerk him slowly.
“Show me again how well you can ride, sugar.” Jack challenges, as you grin.
You straddle him, sliding up and down against him; your lips teasing him as you rub against his hard, thick length.
“Gimme that pussy, darlin’.”
“You want it, cowboy?” You utter as you slip back and forth over him.
“Oh, you know I want it.” He hisses through his teeth as you rub your cunt up and down his length, groaning as it still tingles on your clit. “Always want this fuckin’ gorgeous pussy.”
You sit down on his thick cock that’s poking out of the water at you, inviting you onto its swollen, wet head. The water sloshes around you both as he grabs at your hips and grinds you down onto his throbbing dick.
“Fuck,” he grits as he fills you.
You balance your weight on your arms, holding onto the edges of the tub, sliding up and down him; bouncing that pussy of yours off of his cock.
“C’mon, sugar. Ride me. Ride your cowboy.” Jack tempts.
Jack thrusts his hips upwards to meet you halfway as you thud back down on him, making you both cry out.
“Fuck, like that!” He hollers, the water now splashing over the sides of the tub onto the floor with your intense determination to get off.
“That feel good, darlin'? Lemme see you. Eyes on me, sweet thing. Christ, look at you... So fuckin’ gorgeous on my dick. That's it now, work it... Like that. Aw, hell yeah, like that…” he croons, panting.
He can feel himself becoming more and more frantic with you and you love it. You grip onto his hands, anchoring yourself as he bucks underneath you; lifting his hips as you ride him deeper and faster.
“Jack! Fuck!”
You’re wailing as your head snaps back, suds flicking up the tiles, and the water in the tub is nothing more than a swirling whirlpool around you both.
You can feel the brewing of your orgasm; the tightening inside your stomach and the deep pull of your cunt cinching around him.
It’s a delicious feeling as you unwind yourself completely. The air in the bathroom carrying a heavy, languid heat, wrapping you in a heady cocoon of sensual bliss.
Jack gorges on the vision of you, sitting atop him; breasts shiny with the soapy water dripping down them, jiggling up and down. Panting and groaning for him as your body runs slick with water and bubbles.
The blooming feeling, like a sunlit daydream, unfolds with gentle intensity that bathes you in a soft, golden glow as it builds from within.
A velvet touch of warmth that lingers dreamily through the marrow of your bones, leaving you submerged in a haze of dizzy serenity, where time slows and the world takes on a muted hue around the fuzzed edges of your vision, condensating your eyes as you enjoy the deep thrusting inside you.
“Darlin’. Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He groans. He can feel himself beginning to lose it, grunting and getting ready to fill you up.
You let go of his hands and slap them down on his chest, riding him ragged over the final hurdle; cunt tightening and pumping his cock.
He can just about bear it as your position means he’s gone that little bit further inside you still, and your walls are rubbing deliciously against him.
“Ah shee-it!” Jack curses out with a snarl pulled around his beautiful lips. “Gonna fill you up, sugar. You’re close now… I can feel it. Want you comin’ all over my cock as I fill you, okay?” He drawls in that thick, Kentucky squall.
Nodding, you go faster; twerking on his dick and feeling the build up inside you reach epic proportions - your own release imminent. You want this; crave this from him, as you let yourself let go.
“Come for me, Jack!”
“Fuck, yeah!”
He shudders against you, cursing out and biting his bottom lip as he begins exploding inside you. Veins in his neck twitching and bulging as he howls.
You slump forward onto him, kissing his wet, smooth chest delicately. The water finally comes to a still as you lay in the hot suds with him.
You combust around him; calling his name out over and over; your rocking takes on a slow and steady pace until its eventual stop as you both shiver and judder from the come down.
Your body tingles all over and legs feel like wobbly jelly.
“Fuck me...” Jack sighs contentedly, grabbing a hold of your ass and squeezing it gently between the wavy, foamy froth.
“I just did.” You titter and he chuckles.
“And then some.” He tilts your chin up to him and plants a lingering sensual kiss on your lips.
“Jesus Christ, I love you, darlin’.” He wraps you tightly in his drenched arms. “You n’ that lil' dill pickle in there.”
You smile contentedly. “We love you too, cowboy.”
A little while later, you’re both dressed in warm clothes by the fireplace, as Jack sips from a glass of honey coloured whiskey.
You’re both exchanging cosy, satisfied smiles as you both wrap the gifts in coordinated teamwork, that you’ve picked out together for the staff that work at the Ranch.
You crease the folds of the metallic paper, and he tears off the tape strips holding them out to you on a lone finger. He holds the ribbon in place, whilst you tie it into a bow over his digits.
He writes out the cards in a messy scrawl, whilst you place some food down in front of him, and he leans up to kiss you, patting and rubbing your tummy gently.
He lifts up the chunky knit of your sweater to reveal your soft, clean skin. You run your hands through his deep chocolate locks as he beams up at you.
“Happy Christmas, sugar.”
“Happy Christmas, Jack.”
You watch, smiling fondly, as he then runs his nose against your belly, inhaling the perfume of you, and you giggle at the tickle of his moustache.
Jack gazes up at you before pressing his soft, pursed lips below your belly button. A lingering little smooch sinking into the layers of your skin.
“Happy Christmas, lil' dill pickle.” Jack says.
12 DAYS OF XXX-MAS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
#pedro pascal x reader#jack daniels x reader#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey smut#agent jack whiskey daniels#agent whiskey kingsman#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#christmas stories#jett's writing
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Making It Up To You
Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x F!Reader
Rating: NSFW 18+ (minors dni)
Warnings: Jack being the actual sweetest & a little shit, a dash of angst, the cutest banter, domestic bliss, all the surprise, cheesy romantic set up but we love it, the hottest smutty times, oral (female receiving), p in x sex, unprotected sex, gentle but fast sex
Word Count: 2.8k
Author’s Notes: Welp it has been awhile but I finally got a new fic written!!! Just in time for Valentines Day. I’ve had this idea planned for awhile now and it finally got done! As always massive thanks to @clint-aww-no-barton. If you want to be added or removed from my taglist please let me know! Also I am slowly going to be getting old fics on ao3 that haven’t made it yet. I am very sorry it has taken so long to get the ones not up done. It’s not the easiest thing to do. Thank you all and hopefully I am back!
ao3 link coming sometime…
The evening was settling around you. The cool wind and the darkening light made you finally go inside. You’d spent a lot of the afternoon outside, reading and sipping on some wine. You’d done everything you could to distract yourself. As you stepped inside and looked around your empty home, you let out a sigh. The home felt so big and lonely without Jack here. You would think after all these years, and all the missions, you would be used to this by now. You would never get used to it. Most of the time it didn’t bother you, this badly, but given the date it felt worse. Your phone rang making you jump, as it pulled you back to reality. The corner of your mouth quirked up slightly at the sound of Jack’s ringtone, and the request for FaceTime.
“There’s my girl. Happy Valentines Day darlin’!” Jack spoke with enthusiasm, a smile bright on his face.
“Hi cowboy. Happy Valentines Day.” You tried to force a bright smile, but you knew he would see right through you.
“What’s wrong?” His face fell and his brow furrowed.
“I just miss you is all,” you spoke, your smile falling.
You moved throughout the house, turning on lights and putting away your glass and wine.
“I miss you too angel. And I really hate that I’m gone today. I fully intend to make this up to you.”
There was a glint in his eye, and as you sat down on the couch you gave him a questioning look.
“What are you up to Jack Daniels?”
“You’ll see soon,” he smirked as he stood and moved somewhere else in his hotel room “Actually sooner than I thought. Like right about…”
There was a knock at the door, and your head jerked that way, before looking back at Jack with confusion all over your face.
“Now. Go answer the door darlin’.”
“Okayyyy.”
You pushed off the couch taking your phone, and therefore Jack, along with you. You opened your door to a pizza delivery man.
“Your pizza ma’am.” He spoke with a smile that seemed knowing, as you gave him a smile, still confused.
“Thank you. Hang on I’ll get you some money.”
“It’s been taken care of. Have a good night.”
“Oh? Well thank you. You as well,” you gave him a nod and shut the door as he turned to leave.
You carefully took the pizza, and the other box that was sitting on top, to the island setting the phone up against them.
“What’s this all about Jack?” You looked at him through the phone screen, desperately wishing he were here.
“Well I thought we could have a little virtual Valentines Day date, since it’s the best we got. I even ordered the same thing, so it seemed like we were really together.”
You could have cried as you looked at the man you loved. The thought he put behind so many things still took you by surprise. Any other man wouldn’t have done this, but Jack wasn’t like any other man.
“Jack,” his name came off your lips, voice breaking slightly.
“Now now none of that darlin’. Get you a drink and set me up so we’re across from each other.”
You moved around the kitchen doing as he asked, grabbing some water and a plate, before sitting down at your dining room table. You pulled the vase of flowers from the middle of the table so they were across from you, and you gently propped your phone against it. Jack must have done something similar because now you seemingly sat across from each other.
“Now let’s eat!” Jack rubbed his hands together, and you giggled before you grabbed a piece of pizza and some cheesy bread.
Jack and yourself fell into casual talk about each other’s day. You asked him questions about the mission and he shared what he could. He asked you had done while he was away this time. You laughed softly with how well he knew you. Always ready with a list of things to do while he was gone. Finally you both finished and you sat back, full.
“That was amazing. Thank you for dinner Jack,” you smiled softly.
“You never have to thank me for that darlin’. Now you want to watch a movie or we could do something else?”
“Honestly I would like to just enjoy you and your company. If that’s okay?” You asked suddenly worried you might have ruined more of his plan.
“That’s perfectly okay angel. After dinner I was leaving the rest up to you.”
“Okay. I didn’t want to ruin any more sneaky plans you might have had.”
“You don’t ruin anything angel. I’ve had my shower already but I am going to get comfy if you would like to join me.”
“Jack are you trying to get me naked?” You asked with a smirk, as you walked the house, making sure the doors were locked before going to your shared bedroom.
“Is it working?” You could hear his smirk, even though he was off camera getting clothes.
“Well I do have to, in order to put on pjs, but you’re not going to see.” Your voice teasing.
“What?!” Jack shot back into the frame and you let out a laugh. “Now why not?!”
“Because I’m not having FaceTime sex with you. We gotta stay riled up until you get home remember, our deal?”
“The deal I came up with? Let’s break it.”
“You are such a man. Plus look who is changed and I didn’t see a thing.”
You spoke with amusement, earning a shocked look from Jack, before moving out of frame to change.
“So rude,” he mumbled but you could tell he was holding in a laugh.
“I’ll remember that when you get home,” you spoke with a laugh as you moved back in frame, grabbing your phone and climbing into bed.
You turned Jack’s pillow and set the phone against it.
“Now it’s like you are right next to me.” Even when you spoke the words, they were laced with a slight sadness.
“Oh no now, give me my laughing girl back.”
“It’s just…you’re not here to hold me.”
“I know darlin’. I hope I’m home soon. I know this wasn’t the ideal Valentines Day for you either. I’m sorry.”
“Jack don’t be sorry. What you did was perfect and I loved it.”
You watched as Jack settled in, seeming to do the same thing as you, setting up his phone on your side of the bed. You smiled softly at him as he laid down.
“Hi,” you spoke.
“Hi there angel,” he smirked giving you a wink.
“You are going to be asleep in like five minutes if I’m lucky.”
“Now you don’t know that.”
“Oh but I do. You hit the pillow and you’re gone. I’ve watched an entire season of a show while you sleep!”
“You have not!!” Jack spoke defensively but laughed.
“Oh but I have! Finished a book, silently screaming right next to you. All sorts of things have been done between the time you fell asleep and the time I do.” You laughed as Jack faked an overly dramatic face of defense.
“I feel attacked right now. I can’t help it.”
“You are a man cowboy, it comes with the territory, fortunately for you.” You laughed before settling more into the bed.
“You’re getting sleepy now though aren’t you?” Jack smirked.
“Yeah I can’t lie I am.”
“You can go to sleep darlin’. I’ll stay right here until you do.”
“I don’t want to though. I don’t want this to end yet.”
“I know but you need your rest angel.”
“I know,” your voice laced with sadness.
You turned the tv on and turned your side table lamp down to the dim setting before turning back to Jack. You were met with dimmed lighting on his end as well. You realized, in the quiet, he was watching the same show as you.
“Are you watching the same thing?”
“Trying to keep up with us being together without being together. I want you to feel like I’m there when you close your eyes.”
“I love you Jack.” You spoke with a smile, overwhelmed by this man and the things he did for you.
“I love you too darlin’. Now close your eyes and get some rest.”
You simply nodded your head before closing your eyes. Sooner than you expected, you slipped away to a deep, peaceful sleep.
*****
Your day had been full of errands. You were expecting Jack home anytime now, and you wanted the house fully stocked. You’d allowed yourself to have a me day, to continue to keep yourself distracted, before heading to the grocery store. The first store didn’t have everything on your list, and three stores later you were finally done. Everything marked off your list and tiredness filling your body. You finally pulled into the driveway, grabbing the first set of bags. You battled with the door, before finally getting it open, before you stopped dead in your tracks. Fake flickering candles filled your entire house, and a small path of rose petals guided you to the bedroom. You looked up, eyes finding Jack, leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom. You gulped at the sight before you. He looked undone, with his tie gone, his shirt unbuttoned at the top and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
“Hiya darlin’,” he smirked with a knowing look at your jaw on the floor.
“Jack. When did you get home?” You smiled softly as he pushed off the doorframe, and the two of you gravitated to each other.
“Just a few hours ago. Long enough to put this together,” he held his arms out slightly, before his hands fell to your hips and pulled you close.
His lips met yours, breaking your bright smile as you kissed him back deeply. Your hands went up his chest, unbuttoning some more buttons.
“I have groceries in the car,” you breathed out, knowing exactly where this was going by the hunger in Jack’s entire being.
“Anything frozen?”
“No.”
“Then don’t worry about it,” Jack spoke with a whisper and you simply nodded, before your lips were crashing back to each other.
You swore this man could always make you feel dizzy, and completely broken in the best way. Jack’s hands moved to your ass, and you jumped wrapping your legs around his waist, as he skillfully carried you to the bedroom, never letting his lips fall from yours.
“I think I got a certain holiday to make up for,” Jack finally pulled away, allowing air to fill your lungs, and you smirked.
“That you do cowboy. Along with being gone,” you mirrored his smirk, your eyes moving to the ceiling thinking, your fingers brushing at the hair at Jack’s neck.
“I hope you don’t have any plans for the next few days then.”
“The only plans I have are you,” you smirked before your lips fell back to his.
It never failed, when Jack returned home and he was able, the two of you were like teenagers, rushing to get the deed done before you were caught by your parents. Things moved fast, hands and lips were everywhere and limbs tangled. But Jack and yourself knew each other like a map you’d memorized. Knew every sensitive place and what it did for the other. The two of you had plenty of study time. That was another thing that made the two of you so much like teenagers. You never could get enough of each other. Your body meeting the mattress pulled you back to the moment. Jack had released you completely, and as your eyes fluttered open already heavy with desire, you watched him as his eyes racked over you.
“I have no idea how I got so damn lucky, my god you’re beautiful angel.”
“I liked your truck,” you tried to say with a straight face, but couldn’t help a laugh.
“Oh it was my truck huh?” Jack’s eyebrows raised as he crawled over you. “It has nothing to do with this…”
He trailed off as his hands slowly traced up your shirt, his lips falling to your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut and you surrounded yourself with him. He raised your shirt over your head, and discarded it before, quickly removing your bra.
“Or this…” his voice dipped lower as his lips traveled down, meeting your already hard nipple.
He pulled it between his teeth. flicking it with his tongue before releasing it, pulling a moan from you. He licked over it once more, before moving to the next to do the same. Then he was continuing his way down. and your breathing started to become heavier. He had your pants and underwear gone within moments.
“Or this,” Jack’s eyes bore into yours as you looked down, darkened with lust and he smirked before his head dipped between your legs.
His mouth came in contact with your wet pussy and your head flew back and your hand laced in his hair. This man knew what to do with that damn mouth of his. You didn’t realize how worked up you were until you could feel yourself racing to your climax.
“Okay Jack, yes it was this and all the things before and all the things you were going to do to me after!” You moaned loudly as you pulled gently as his hair.
He looked up at you with a grin that made you bust out laughing.
“The truck is just a plus,” you giggle and he stood, quickly removing his shirt, letting out a laugh as well.
You sat up to start on his pants, which he finished removing, before crawling over you again, as you crawled backwards towards the headboard.
“I promise you in the coming days,” he paused, to give you a wink that made you laugh again “I’m going to take my damn time with you but right now…”
Jack entered you taking you by surprise, and your brow furrowed at the pleasure that filled every inch of your body. You looked at him like he hung the moon and the stars, before his hips started to slowly thrust. He didn’t last long going slow, before his speed picked up, but never once did he become too rough, staying gentle but quick. You were soaring, trying so hard to put off the orgasm that was quickly riding its wave to you, but it was a battle you had yet to learn how to win.
“Jack,” his name fell from your lips in a whine of desperation.
“Let go for me angel. I got you,” his forehead fell to yours, and you locked eyes with him as you came hard around him.
You fought to keep his stare until you lost, closing your eyes and submitting yourself to the tidal wave. Jack was not far behind you, burying his face in your neck as he let go deep inside of you. The two of you lay there, panting in the blissful aftermath, before Jack did the one thing the two of you hated most of love making, he pulled away. He didn’t go far, rolling to his back and the two of you were quick to turn to each other.
“That was amazing as always,” you smirked as you moved in close, your fingers brushing at his chest.
“We do make a pretty good team don’t we?” Jack smiled brightly and you laughed but a smile lingered across your lips.
“We really do.”
Silence fell for a few moments, before his fingers brushed at your chin, your eyes catching his.
“I missed you,” he spoke gently, his fingers brushing hair behind your ear.
“I missed you too.”
“I told Champ I wasn’t coming in for at least three days.”
“I’m calling him to tell him you will be in in two.”
Jack’s mouth fell open in fake appall.
“Now why are you trying to get rid of me a whole day early?!”
“Because if we go three days just like this, much less how we plan to go, I’ll be in the grave by the end.”
Jack paused for a moment, and briefly you thought you had seriously hurt his feelings.
“Yeah you’re probably right. I would be right behind you.”
You both let out a laugh, before he pulled you to him and kissed you once again. You pulled away, and with a sigh moved to get out of bed, before Jack’s hand on your wrist caught you.
“Now where do you think you’re going?” He pulled you back down to the bed, caging you under his body.
“The groceries are still in the car.”
“Eh we’ll get them tomorrow they’ll be fine.”
“Fine but if you make me not be able to walk in the morning, you’ll have to haul them in by yourself.”
“Angel I wasn’t going to make you bring another bag in this house anyways.”
“Then proceed,” you smirked.
Jack’s lips fell back to yours, both of you wearing a wide smile and he did indeed proceed.
Tagged: @jimmythegirl @arcadianempress @discogrrl @immundusspiritu @someplace-darker @thisis-theway @ohpedromypedro @scribbledghost @fioccodineveautunnale @princess-and-pedro @phoenixhalliwell @littlevodka @all-hallows-evie @mack4676 @perropascal @audreyshepbvrn @mswarriorbabe80 @kaqua @novemberrain221 @weasleywinchester @lady-bess
#pedro pascal#agent whiskey#jack whiskey daniels#agent whiskey fic#jack whiskey daniels fic#agent whiskey x reader#jack whiskey daniels x reader#agent whiskey smut#jack whiskey daniels smut#agent whiskey x female reader#agent whiskey x f!reader#jack whiskey daniels x f!reader#jack whiskey daniels x female reader
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VIII ║ Silver Pony
Jack Daniels x f!reader
{ Part 7: Fleabitten | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 9: Warmblood }
Rating: E
Summary: And just like that, your week at the Statesman Ranch comes to an end, leaving you grappling with the prospect of saying goodbye to Jack.
Warnings: Mentions of food and cooking, angst, feelings, grief, flirting, insecurities, very light soft!dom overtones, sexual innuendoes, risky unprotected sex (wrap it up, kids!), dirty talk, language, no use of Y/N
Word count: 7.5k
Notes: Here we are, the penultimate chapter of Palomino. I had the last scene in mind since the very beginning of the series, actually putting it into words has been so emotional. Thank you as always for your patience and your love for this series, I'm eternally grateful that you're still with me as we wrap up this beautiful journey cowboy Jack and his Darlin' started almost a year ago ❤️
P.S. Please excuse typos and any mistakes as I had very little time to edit with the husband ill this weekend.
Coaxing Scotch to a halt at the end of the track - the last lookout point before the trail slopes downhill and homeward - you let the leather reins slip long and loose as he stretches his neck and shakes out his mane with a low nicker.
A hundred feet drop below, between the palomino’s ears turned forward in anticipation, is the Statesman Ranch in all its glory, nestled in the fertile valley of green pasture, with its winding creek and red roofs. You can see tiny people milling about, the stables busy in the middle of the afternoon, and horses grazing in the fields bracketed by white picket fences.
Out of the corner of your eye, Whiskey comes to a stop next to you, close enough that your knee bumps into Jack’s.
You keep your gaze on the ranch below as you ask half-jokingly, ‘Is it too late to turn back now?’
He chuckles, and you twist towards him, your own lips curling. ‘I believe we had this exact same conversation the first day, darlin’.’
It’s not too late to back out, you know.
Oh no, you’re not getting rid of me now, cowboy.
You don’t even realise you’ve fallen quiet until his calloused hand slides over yours, fingers tangling together. Jack brushes a sweet kiss to the heart of your palm that goes right to the one in your ribcage.
He cocks his head to one side in a gentle question. ‘Shall we rip off the bandaid, darlin’?’
Knowing there’s no other way around it, you squeeze his hand. ‘Let’s go, cowboy.’
Jameson is the first to spot the five of you passing through the backgates. The sight of him zooming up the slope with his ears pinned back in excitement has you laughing, the horses nickering hello as his barks echo in the valley.
It makes no sense really - you barely know this place after all - but something inexplicably comforting and familiar tugs at your insides as you ride through the ranch. Stable hands call out to Jack in friendly greeting and to you with polite ma’ams, between bales of hay being loaded, saddles and tack polished, and the clang of steel on iron from the farrier’s workstation out back. All the while, Jameson trots faithfully by your side, as if he’s known you all his life.
‘You sure know how to make a girl feel special,’ you coo at him and he barks back, tail wagging.
Jack winks at you and says cryptically, ‘Well, you’re about to feel a lot more special, darlin’.’
Sure enough, when the horses clop into the main stable yard, your jaw drops.
‘Look what the cat dragged in!’ bellows Champ with a huge grin on his face, standing in front of the stable doors with hands on his hips, larger than life than ever.
You chortle at the huge Welcome Back! banner stretched over the barn door, complete with over-the-top cowboy themed helium balloons, bumping into each other in the afternoon breeze. You catch Jack rolling his eyes fondly at the scene.
Champ gives Scotch an affectionate ruffle on the mane as he comes to a halt by the wooden post. ‘So - how was it, m’dear? Was it everythin’ I promised it would be?’
‘Everything and more,’ you answer in the affirmative as you dismount, letting him pull you in for an enthusiastic hug.
‘That’s what I like to hear!’ he beams and pats the palomino soundly on the rump. ‘And Scotch? Was he a good boy?’
‘The bestest boy,’ you gush, throwing your hands around the horse’s neck in a hug. ‘He deserves all the carrots and apples in the world.’
Swinging his leg over the back of Whiskey’s saddle and landing gracefully on booted feet on the opposite side of the post, Jack quips, ‘But you’ve already fed him all the carrots and apples in the world.’
Champ chortles. ‘And what about our cowboy? Was he on his best behaviour?’
Jack points a self-righteous finger at his boss. ‘I’ll have you know our guest rated the pack trip a perfect ten out of ten, so I’ll be expectin’ an immediate raise. Ain’t that right, darlin’?’
A loud scoff coming from the stables turns your head, and you smile when Tequila emerges, wasting no time taking his aim at Jack. ‘Hold your horses, Daniels. Pretty sure the food poisonin’ knocks a few points off!’
Crossing the yard with his usual swagger, he sidles up to the other side of Scotch and tips his hat at you, leaning his elbows on the saddle. ‘Welcome back, sweetheart. Good to see you up and runnin’.’
You bite your lip at the mischievous wink he tosses your way.
Champs harrumps indignantly. ‘You have some nerve askin’ for a raise, son! Poppy was madder than a wet hen she heard about that. As you well know, she expects a full report at dinner tonight.’
Jack huffs in jest. ‘I’m puttin’ in a call to my attorney as we speak.’
The banter is spirited and relentless as the cowboys make quick work of untacking and unloading the horses, Champ insisting you shouldn’t lift a finger and talking for more than the three of you.
When the stable hands take away the last of the bags with your dirty laundry to be laundered, Jack takes a hold of both Whiskey and Bourbon. Clearing his throat, he seems to hesitate for a second, a tick in his jaw, but he eventually nods at you and says, ‘Well. I best be bringin’ the boys in now. Catch you later, darlin’.’
The bottom of your stomach gives out at the catch you later, darlin’, knocking the breath clean out of you, unprepared for the dread that courses through your veins like lead at the sudden prospect of being apart. Your fingers twitch with urgency, wanting to reach out, grab him by the front of his shirt, and cling to him -
Get a grip, woman.
You physically shake yourself out of it, and instead, try to bide your time. ‘Or, you know, if can I help with anything at all -’
Jack clearly catches on to your reluctance, but Champ is insistent. ‘Absolutely not! Now, it’s just gettin’ to four o’clock, so there’s plenty of time to go back to your room, clean up and join us for sunset drinks in a couple of hours. How does that sound, ma’am?’
Jack’s mouth stretches into a reassuring smile that you wish were imprinted into the skin of your forehead instead. With a promise in his eyes that it’ll only be a couple of hours, he leads the chestnut and pinto into the stables.
You don’t even try to hide the slump in your shoulders and your wistful, lingering gaze on the cowboy’s retreating back, nearly jumping out of your skin when Tequila gives you an almost brotherly pat on the shoulder over Scotch’s back. ‘I gotcha, girl.’
Speaking up, he calls out, ‘Hey Champ, Ginger was just tellin’ me that you got an urgent message from Harry, so you better give him a call back - you know how he gets when you don’t.’
The older man flinches dramatically at the mention of his accountant, flinging his hands up in frustration. ‘Damn distillery is more trouble than it’s worth! I better go - you remember your way back to your cabin, young lady?’
Before you can get a word out, Tequila cuts in, ‘Jack can show her the way if she doesn’t, I’m sure.’
The sly reference goes straight over Champ’s head as he bustles off, but not without a polite tip of his hat. Once he’s out of sight, you smile at the cowboy. ‘I appreciate that, Teak.’
He winks at you and spins on his heels to take Scotch to the washing bay. ‘Consider it part of our excellent service at the Statesman Ranch, sweetheart!’
You find Jack hatless in Bourbon’s box, his eyebrows reaching for his hairline, slick with sweat, when you slip in and shut the door quietly behind you.
‘Whatcha doin’, darlin’?’ he asks with a lopsided smile.
Even though you didn’t run into anyone on your way in, you glance around to make sure you’re alone before grabbing him by the open neck of his shirt and tugging him into you. One palm on his cheek, rough with the stubble starting to peek through since his last shave at the Halfway House, you press your lips to his, blood thrumming with the thrill of sneaking around.
You catch the hitch of his breath with a wet suck on his bottom lip and he groans - too loudly in the mid-afternoon quiet. Cheeky hands wander south and grab you shamelessly by the ass, his tongue questing deep into your mouth, and you can feel him hardening against your stomach, drawing a whimper from you.
Pulling back reluctantly, his nose still on yours, he growls. ‘Such brazen behaviour.’
Your tongue darts out and swipes the underside of your upper lip, drunk on the taste of him, and his dark gaze follows. ‘I think you like it, cowboy.’
‘Too fuckin’ much,’ he admits with a pained moan and a chaste kiss to your temple, nose in your hair, as if to calm himself down. ‘You should go clean up, I need to finish up here and you’re distractin’ me.’
You pout, laying your cards on the table. ‘But I miss you.’
His gaze warms at your admission, and he stoops to kiss you again. ‘I know, but it’s only for a little while, okay? I’ll come ‘round your room to pick you up at six.’
‘Fine,’ you reply begrudgingly. ‘Be quick, ok?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he teases and swats you on the bottom playfully as he herds you towards the door. ‘I won’t be long, promise.’
Taking two steps down the corridor, you look back one last time at Jack, who’s still watching you from the stall, leaning on the top of the door. When he blows you a lingering kiss, the thought strikes you unbidden -
If it’s this hard leaving him for a couple of hours.
Feeling the tell-tale sting in your nose and the prickle of tears at your eyes, you push the thought out of your mind -
You put one foot in front of the other, and walk away.
You didn’t realise how much you missed civilisation until you surprise yourself with the longest sigh under the rain shower. Head bowed under the steady stream, you take your time, lathering yourself until you’re cocooned in olive scented bubbles before rinsing, relishing the firm water pressure soothing the knots and soreness lurking under your skin.
But there’s a deeper ache, one that can’t be reached from the surface.
You have literally not been apart from Jack for the last four days. You’ve been showering together since the Halfway House, for crying out loud. It hasn’t taken you more than the stretch of an arm to catch his hand, or the turn of your cheek to find his lips.
A laugh bubbles in your throat as you wrap yourself in a fluffy towel. The word codependent springs to mind.
Standing in the middle of the room in just your underwear, you sort through the clean clothes that are folded neatly on the bed. Pulling on the prettiest top you brought and the same pair of jeans you wore on your birthday, you dig out your makeup bag and settle in front of the vanity, putting on a Spotify playlist and humming along as you get ready for dinner.
One second you’re blending in your foundation, then the next - liner in your grasp and poised over the corner of your eye - panic rudely sets in.
What if -
What if the chemistry between the two of you was conditional on forced proximity?
What if Jack was only attracted to you because there was literally no other woman for miles and miles?
What if -
You startle at the knock on the door.
It’s deja vu when you pad across the oakwood floors on bare feet, your heart threatening to thunder out of your chest when you twist the knob clockwise.
Jack is leaning on the doorframe, freshly showered himself, damp locks curling into his forehead. The yellow flannel he’s wearing is new to you, but not the way the sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, over his sunkissed forearms.
For one moment of madness, you want to sink your teeth into the thick, sinewy -
‘What is it, darlin’?’ he asks, amused by your scrutiny.
You shrug, fingers fidgeting with a touch of shyness. ‘Just thinking about the last time you were on this doorstep.’
‘When you were swept away by my good looks and charm?’ he quips, arching an eyebrow.
You let him have this one, teasing, ‘Something like that, cowboy.’
Straightening up to his full height, he pulls you in by the waist so that you’re almost standing on the worn leather tips of his boots, the span of his palms warm on the small of your back. He doesn’t even bother checking over his shoulder before brushing a tender kiss on your lips, and it takes you right back to that first time in the field of wildflowers at dawn.
And you just know, in your heart of hearts - there is no what if.
In the middle of nowhere, up in the mountains, the sunset hour demands nothing short of worship. Miles and miles of grassland, trees and summer blooms become altars dipped in bronze at which to prostrate oneself as the sun sinks, rejoicing at the rapture of the end of day.
Whilst not as transcendent as what you experienced on the trail, the last sunset over the ranch is giving as good as it gets. The sun gilds the fields in gold on its descent as the stable hands bring in the last of the horses for the night while the swallows fly home above. The river that winds through the ranch is ablaze with the refracting light, and across the yard, you can hear the impatient whinnying of those waiting for their supper.
Jack and Tequila are setting up the barbeque and firepit, the orange glow of the twin flames taking the place of the fading daylight. The familiar scent of burning wood grounds you - you’re feeling a bit out of practice being the centre of attention after being alone with Jack for the past week.
Ice cold lemonade in one hand and buffalo jerky in the other, you smile when Ginger approaches with a hug. ‘I’m sure you’ve had to answer this question about fifty times today, but how was it?’
‘You want the short answer or long answer?’
‘I want a dissertation if you have it in you!’
You sneak glances at Jack over Ginger’s shoulder while you chat, and he watches you back from afar as he bustles in and out of the kitchen, always trailing two steps behind Poppy. You catch snippets of their conversation as they go back and forth, and you pick up enough to know that she is grilling him on the ‘food poisoning’ incident. He shoots you puppy eyes every time he passes by, which makes you grin.
You may or may not have been a bit distracted by the cowboy when Ginger asks, ‘So, did you catch Jack washing in the river in the end?’
A violent cough racks your entire body as you choke mid-swallow, and she chuckles, giving you a comforting pat on the back. ‘It’s ok, girlfriend - I don’t have to know!’
You knock back more lemonade and choose to play coy. If only she knew.
Champ is in his element, swapping out your drink for a whiskey soda as the dusk deepens and making sure the snacks platter is topped up with locally made boar and elk salami. Despite only having half an ear in the conversation while he keeps an eye on the dinner prep, he’s somehow still fully invested, and is particularly interested in the photos and videos you’ve been taking on Jack’s DSLR.
‘And that’s what you do for a livin’, young lady?’ he asks, putting on his reading glasses so he can study the photos downloaded onto your phone.
‘Adjacent. I’m in marketing, I do quite a lot of business-to-consumer social media campaigns,’ you explain, switching to Instagram to show him your employer’s profile.
Champ turns to Ginger. ‘Do we have the social media?’
She exchanges a fond smile with you. ‘No we don’t, boss, but we do have a website. I think it was last updated in 2012.’
Champ holds his chin between his thumb and index finger thoughtfully. ‘What do you think, m’dear? Should we get the social media?’
‘It depends,’ you answer truthfully. ‘If you want to boost occupancy, social media will definitely help connect new guests, and also encourage repeat visits. But if you asked me, I think the real potential is on the distillery side of the business.’
Champ perks up under his cowboy hat. ‘I’m listenin’.’
You tap the bottle of Statesman whiskey that’s sitting on the barrel table. ‘Jack told me that you only handle wholesale orders right now, which is perfectly fine. But if you want to go direct to consumers one day, social media is the way to go. I’ve worked with vineyards and gin distilleries, so I’ve seen how effective these campaigns can be.’
Humming pensively, Champ sips at his whiskey, neat, a faraway look in his eyes as he mulls over your words. ‘Well, that’s somethin’ to think about, I’d say.’
There’s no other way to end the trip than with a western cookout. The barbeque station is packed with trays of beautifully cut and aged meat from neighbouring ranches, sausages and brats, while the smoked brisket and ribs that have been cooking all day are brought out from the smoker in the kitchen.
On the side, a picnic table draped with a chequered table cloth is crammed with baked beans (smoked in-house), corn on the cob, pasta salad and soda bread; and on the greens front, there’s homemade coleslaw, potato salad and greens freshly picked from the vegetable patch.
It’s a feast of epic proportions, and it doesn’t surprise you at all that Poppy is pulling out all the stops.
Jack mans the barbeque under her supervision, wielding the tongs with showmanship, and your heart purrs at the familiar sight of him cooking by firelight as darkness well and truly sets in. You feel slightly adrift not being by his side, but Champ is keeping you entertained and well fed, piling seconds upon thirds on your loaded plate despite your protests.
By the time Teak takes over at the barbeque and Jack makes his way towards the communal table where you’re all standing, you’re sipping slowly on your third whiskey and soda. You smile at him over the brim of your tumbler which he returns, and your body leans unconsciously towards him, before remembering where you are. He tucks his right hand into his back pocket, and you want to think that it’s because if he doesn’t, he would reach out for you.
Being denied his touch when he’s right there has you shifting your feet restlessly. Your fingers itch for him, there’s an insistent prickle under your skin that you know he alone can placate.
You venture a peek at Jack, wondering if he’s faring any better than you are. Feeling your eyes on him, he turns to you, his gaze dropping to your mouth none too subtly, the muscle in his neck tensing. Caught in the moment, all you want to do is to run your tongue down the hollow of his throat and taste the smoke on his skin -
You look away in case you do anything rash.
You’re barely holding it together when the conversation moves on to your birthday at the Halfway House.
‘And how was the dinner?’ asks Poppy animatedly. ‘Did you like the cake?’
Despite yourself, you beam, ‘Like it? I loved it, thank you so much! I was so spoiled.’
‘Did Jack show you a good time?’
‘Oh I should say so,’ cuts in Tequila despite being six feet away at the barbeque. At Jack’s glare, he quickly adds, ‘He decked out the place real nice, y’know, with balloons and shit.’
With a shake of your head, you chuckle, ‘And he dressed the horses up in birthday hats and tinsel!’
With the barbeque dying down to a low, simmering flame, Poppy slides in a couple of peach cobblers in pie dishes directly onto the embers to warm up. Leaving behind gravy-stained plates stacked up high on the barrel table, the group drifts over to the low-set deck chairs sitting in a tidy circle around the firepit.
Emptying the last of the whiskey into his glass, Champ calls out, ‘Jack, m’boy, how ‘bout you run to the cellar and grab us another bottle of the fifteen years?’
‘Sure, boss,’ he replies, hanging back and catching your attention. ‘You wanna come look at the cellar, darlin’? It’s quite a sight.’
Champ is delighted. ‘What an inspired idea! Take your time, young lady, it’s not quite the distillery cellar, but we’ll save that for next time.’
Teak gives you a two-fingered salute and a knowing wink as Jack leads the way. ‘Enjoy the tour, sweetheart!’
Jack barely waits until you’ve turned the corner behind one of the barns before backing you up against the wall. You taste whiskey and woodsmoke on his tongue as he pins you in place with his broad frame, and you haul him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him.
‘I missed you, darlin’,’ he whispers against your lips.
‘I was standing right next to you, cowboy.’
‘I know,’ he whines. ‘Took everythin’ to keep my hands to myself.’
Your cheeks warm at his words, and you reach up to brush an errant curl back from his eyes. ‘Me too.’
Jack grabs your hand and takes you on what must be a shortcut to the kitchen, since you don’t recognise the route. Practically dragging you down a flight of steps at the back, he lets go of you only to pull open a heavy oak door. Your eyes widen when the orange lights flicker on, stepping into the cellar lined with hundreds, if not thousands of bottles, floor-to-ceiling shelves nestled into stone arches carved into the walls.
You wander the perimeter of the room, carefully pulling out dusty bottles high and low to inspect the years printed on the labels, but Jack is having none of it. Face nuzzled into the nook of your shoulder, he grinds his half-hard cock into you impatiently, calloused palms sliding under your shirt and squeezing your tits through your bra.
You moan, the sound echoing under the low vaulted ceilings. ‘What are you doing, cowboy?’
‘Want you now,’ he rasps into the back of your neck, teeth catching the sensitive skin.
‘What’s gotten into you?’ you ask, a laugh caught in your throat as he ruts against the cleft of your ass needily, a shudder rippling through you when you feel just how much he wants you through the denim.
‘It’s the change in altitude,’ he rasps, dry humping you in earnest now, his fingers fumbling with the front of the zipper. ‘And you’re really fuckin’ sexy in these jeans.’
‘Such a sweet talker,’ you tease, reaching behind you to undo his pants. ‘We got to be quick.’
He yanks the front of your jeans down so hard the movement jolts you forwards, flipping the denim inside out and dragging it down to the middle of your thighs, your panties going with them. His question is hot in your ear. ‘Want me to use protection, darlin’?’
You don’t skip a beat with an emphatic, ‘No.’
‘Fuck,’ he growls at your one-worded answer. ‘Lettin’ me fuck you bare? I’m one lucky cowboy.’
Your pussy throbs at his words alone, and you gasp in surprise when Jack manhandles you to the middle of the room, where a row of aged barrels rest on their sides, elevated on a sturdy shelf to keep them off the floor. He bends you unceremoniously over one cask so that your front is pressed up against the curved wooden surface, then, kicking your legs apart and notching the head of his cock at the mouth of your cunt, he sinks into you in one determined thrust.
‘Jack!’ you cry out, voice hoarse, filled almost painfully full, suspended on the tips of your toes as he plants his feet and drives into you, pulling out to the tip before plunging all the way back in, so deep you feel him in your throat. His breath is harsh and hot on the shell of your ear, but you can’t hear him over your own cries.
‘That’s it, darlin’,’ he croons throatily, his jeans rubbing the back of your thighs raw as his grip on you bites into your sides, holding you in place as you writhe. ‘Such a good girl, lettin’ me bend you over like this, takin’ me so well.’
Nails skidding over the wooden grain of the barrel as you scrabble for something to hold onto, you mewl, ‘Yes, yes, yes, feels so fucking good, cowboy!’
The slap of skin on skin bounces obscenely off the walls, and between the buck of his hips and his groans, you hear the slick squelch of your pussy stretching for him.
It seems to spur him on, and he snaps harder into you, rasping, ‘Look at you naughty thin’, lettin’ me fuck you in the middle of the cellar when anyone can walk in.’
Only then does it hit you - the absurdity of having fucked your way across the open country on this packtrip, taking for granted the liberty of literally screaming to the high heavens, free from prying eyes and ears. Juxtaposed against the sudden and very real prospect of getting caught, your body instinctively reacts.
Jack feels you clench wetly around his cock, a choked chuckle halfway in his throat. ‘Fuck, you filthy girl, you like that, don’t you? Want someone to walk in on us when I’m balls deep inside this pretty pussy?’
Your back arches, and he slides in so deep you’re sure you’ll be feeling him for days after, even when you’re a thousand miles from here. ‘Yes, yes, yes sir -’
The next thing you know, he’s gripping your hair and pulling, making you watch him over your shoulder. His eyes are black, jaw hanging open and teeth bared, and he’s gone - he’s thrusting recklessly into you, and you have no idea how your spine hasn’t snapped from being bent so far backwards. Then one rope-worn palm comes down on your right ass cheek in a cracking slap, making you gag on a half-groan, slick trickling down your thighs at the sting.
Jack leans over you now, caging you between his arms, his soft kisses on your neck an antithesis to the uncompromising rhythm at which he’s pounding into you. He coaxes, ‘Gonna cum for me, darlin’?’
Two of his fingers nudge between your legs and you whine when they make landing on your swollen clit. You nod desperately, clawing at the smooth wooden barrel under you. ‘Yes Jack, please make me cum. Please.’
‘Don’t you worry, you will,’ he says matter-of-factly, smearing mouth and tongue down the side of your neck. ‘You can do it. Make a mess on my cock, c’mon, darlin’ -’
When you clamp down around him, it takes Jack everything - everyfuckin’thin’ - not to let go and pump into you, fill that tight little cunt as you wail his name, quaking and squirming in his grasp. Air doesn’t quite reach his lungs, and he’s biting so hard on the insides of his mouth that it swells instantly, wanting so badly to mark you, to possess you in the most primal way a man can -
With a strangled groan, he pulls out, but only just - he’s already cumming before he can even wrap a fist around his cock, spurting crudely all over the swollen lips of your pussy and the curve of your ass as he milks himself dry, shudder after shudder. His spend drips so prettily down the back of your thighs, stopping just short of staining your jeans, that he goes light-headed for a moment. He sways, and if not for you grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him down for a lazy kiss, he probably would’ve keeled over.
He looks down at the mess he made, crooning into your ear, ‘You’re so beautiful covered in my cum, darlin’.’
You squeak, startled, when he runs this thumb down your slit, still so slick and wet for him, and he has to fight the urge to fucking scoop up his cum shove it into you, filling you only to have it drool out of you when he holds the pretty lips open -
He feels your eyes on him, like you can tell what he’s thinking. He winces, shame rearing its head as he apologises, ‘I’m sorry, I got carried away. Was it - too much?’
Cupping his cheek in your palm, you pull him down for another kiss. ‘Never. I’ll take everything you’ve got, cowboy.’
Jack somehow has a handkerchief in his shirt pocket, which he brandishes with a flourish, prompting a giggle from you. ‘A gentleman if I’ve ever seen one.’
With a playful smirk, he declares, ‘Damn straight - my mama raised me right.’
Gently, Jack cleans you up, and you’re happy to let him do all the work, your body heavy and sated. When he’s done, he swivels you around and presses his lips to your temple. ‘Come back to my house tonight, darlin’?’
You tuck your nose into the crook of his neck and breathe in deeply. ‘I’d love to, cowboy.’
He’s carefully folding up the soiled handkerchief and tucking it into his back pocket when you hear footsteps on the stairs, and the two of you have barely pulled up your jeans when the door swings open.
There’s a dramatic pause as Teak takes in your dishevelled state and none too guilty faces. Looking distinctly unsurprised, he bursts into laughter nonetheless. ‘The cellar? Is nothin’ sacred to you heathens?’
The cookout winds down over bubbling hot peach cobbler and homemade vanilla ice cream that Teak collected from the freezer in the kitchen on the way back. It’s pushing ten o’clock when Champ calls it a night, and you all help with bringing the dirty dishes and leftovers inside.
Poppy and Ginger make quick work of putting all the food in tupperware and into the fridge. Jack and Teak load up the dishwasher as you finish off the last of your drink.
Champ dusts his hands, as if he’s the one who’s done all the tidying up, and asks, ‘Your flight tomorrow isn’t until afternoon is it?’
You nod, passing Jack your empty glass. ‘Yeah, I need to drop off my rental truck as well, so I think I’ll have to leave around eleven.’
He pats you on the back. ‘Alright then, we’ll see you tomorrow mornin’. Have a good night’s sleep, young lady.’
‘Say goodbye before you go,’ adds Ginger, giving you a peck on the cheek.
‘Dinner was incredible, Poppy, thank you,’ you smile as she pulls you into a warm hug.
The redhead winks at you. ‘My absolute pleasure. I’ll fix you a little takeaway lunch to go tomorrow for the journey home. No plane food allowed for our guests!’
The kitchen empties until it’s just you, Jack and Teak, with the latter grinning at you two like a lunatic. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he shrugs. ‘So you guys wanna hang, or -’
‘Get the fuck outta here, Teak!’ Jack growls.
The taller cowboy ambles over to you, joints loose with alcohol, and gives you what can only be described as a bear hug.
‘Just try keep it down, will ya? It’s real quiet in the valley at night and some of us have to work early tomorrow,’ he ribs with an insolent wink. ‘Guess we won’t see you lovebirds at breakfast?’
‘Not if you’re there,’ Jack retorts, to which Teak flashes a good-natured middle finger and saunters off into the night.
Jack draws you into his arms and you slump against him, relieved that you’re finally alone. ‘Shall we, darlin’?’
His fingers curl securely around the back of your hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles at the base of yours as he closes the kitchen door behind you. It strikes you this is actually the first time you’re holding hands - there was no need for that when you were in the saddle, or camped in close proximity.
Your cheeks stretch with a smile so wide that the muscles ache. The mundanity of walking side by side, hand in hand, shouldn’t be this thrilling.
It’s quiet other than the grind of gravel under your boots and Jack’s heavier ones. The night air is sweet, the blanket of stars above you just as magical, but it’s not quite the same kind of stillness at the lower altitude. Perhaps it’s the way the sound travels with buildings and other people around, maybe the very physics of it is fundamentally different.
Turning into the parking lot, your attention is piqued by a handsome motorcycle parked all on its lonesome next to the main lodge.
Pride in his voice, Jack says, ‘Darlin’, meet the Silver Pony.’
You know nothing about motorcycles, but you can appreciate the sleek lines, the classy tan leather seat and the retro elegance about her as you circle it. Her silver paint job gleams in the lonely porch light. ‘She’s beautiful, cowboy.’
‘She’s an old girl but she got good bones. I restored her myself,’ he proclaims proudly, before admitting, ‘And well, Teak helped too.’
Opening a little cabinet attached to the side of the main lodge, Jack pulls out a helmet that has you laughing. It’s painted red white and blue, stars, stripes and the full monty, with the word WHISKEY painted across the front in bold formation.
He grins at you. ‘Found it in a yard sale. Too good to pass up.’
Lowering it over your head, he tightens the strap carefully under your chin. It’s a bit big, but it’ll do for a short ride. Blinking up at him, it brings you back to that first day in the stables, and you feel the same pull that you did when he fitted you with your hat.
Except this time, you can do something about it. Standing on your tiptoes to kiss him, you giggle when your helmet slips and knocks into his forehead with a clunk.
Putting on his own sensible black helmet, he plants his left foot by the side of the bike and swings his right leg over the leather seat.
You’re taken aback by the spike in your pulse at the sight - you’d think that having seen him on horseback all week would have prepared you for it. But there’s something about the way he leans over the top of the motorcycle, thighs wrapped around the metal body, forearms flexing as he grasps the handlebar.
Starting the ignition and knocking back the kickstand with the heel of his cowboy boot, Jack nods at you. ‘Hop on, darlin’.’
You do, and you don’t need to be told to hold on tight.
The Silver Pony purrs to a stop outside a modest cottage, about a ten-minute cruise from the ranch, down a short dirt track from the main road. It’s pitch black except for the headlights that illuminate an unexpectedly floral front garden. You hop off and take off your helmet before Jack kills the engine, plunging you into a very familiar darkness.
Switching on the light on his phone, he reaches for your hand and pulls you gently to his side, his solid warmth welcome even though it’s nowhere as chilly as it was up on the mountains. Flashing the light towards the front yard, he tells you, ‘Ginger has quite the green finger, this is all her work. It took some time, but the vegetable patch is just startin’ to come through this season.’
Keys jangling, Jack unlocks the front door and ushers you inside, flipping on the lights.
It’s a cosy space, not big by country standards, but more than spacious enough for one cowboy. It’s clearly a man’s house, with a distinct lack of decorative touches other than a vintage map of Wyoming hanging over a dining table and a crowded bookshelf by the door. Dark wood with orange knots line the floors and ceilings, the warm tones reminding you of nights around the campfire.
Walking through the tidy but lived-in space, you pass an open kitchen with a breakfast bar that backs into the living room. A rustic stone fireplace stands in the corner, bracketed by a cosy sectional with deep seats.
Jack watches you mill about, taking everything in. When you stop by the fireplace, he asks jokingly from across the room, ‘So, what’s the verdict?’
You tease, ‘Not gonna lie - I’m disappointed there aren’t more spurs and lassos on the walls.’
He chuckles and steps into the kitchen. ‘You want a nightcap?’
‘Just water thank you, I think I’ve had enough to drink.’
Filling up two glasses at the sink, he crosses the room to join you at the mantelpiece.
‘How long have you been living here?’ you ask, setting your glass on the shelf after taking a sip.
He takes a moment to reply. ‘I took a long break off work after my wife died, then moved in here straight after. Couldn’t stand bein’ in our house alone - couldn’t bear bein’ there at all.’ He pauses, and his lips quirk with a wry smile. ‘Champ and Teak packed everythin’ up for me and drove it all here.’
His honesty hits you squarely in the chest, the weight of the grief behind his words nearly knocking you back a step. You reach for him, closing the two-step distance and wrapping your arms tight around his waist.
Eyes closed, he lets you anchor him to the moment. Maybe he shouldn’t, but the confession slips right through his teeth. ‘I haven’t brought any women here. Ever.’
He holds his breath as he feels you hold yours.
You mumble into his chest, ‘You have to stop making it harder for me to leave, cowboy.’
Then don’t.
The two words are on the tip of his tongue, and for a second, he worries that he actually said them out loud. But he knows he can’t. It’s mad. It’s been a week. It’s not fair on you, not when you have a whole life back in the city, thousands of miles away, and his is right here in the shadow of the Bighorn Mountains.
So he says nothing.
Eventually, you pull back and tip your face up towards him. He doesn’t think he’s imagining the wetness lining the seams of your eyes.
‘Let’s go to bed, cowboy.’
He watches you from the doorway, where he leans idly against the frame, body relaxed from the whiskey sodas at dinner. The curtains are drawn and the light from the bedside lamp soft, casting orange shades on the walls and your skin as you shrug on the shirt he leaves out for you. The last button done, you snuggle comfortably under his sheets, and his heart lurches.
Not for the first time, the thought crosses his mind -
You look like you belong here.
‘Are you gonna stare all night, cowboy?’ you tease, sinking into the pillows.
He shrugs and closes the door behind him, shedding his clothes as he goes. ‘Can’t help it, darlin,’. You look good in my bed.’
‘It’s so comfy,’ you sigh happily, watching him strip down to his boxers.
‘It’s just the hard ground talkin’,’ he says, climbing in next to you. Bundling you into his arms and sliding one leg between yours, he kisses you, a deep exhale leaving him as he does. You smile so wide the corners of your eyes crease, and he watches as they land somewhere behind him.
His stomach drops when it dawns on him what catches your attention.
But it’s too late. You sit up, leaning over him and grabbing a hold of it with gentle hands.
You stare up at him. ‘Jack.’
He doesn’t even remember the last time he really looked at the photo. It’s there when he wakes up, when he goes to bed. It sits on the bedside table by the lamp, probably covered in dust.
Untouched.
His silence doesn’t deter you, but your tone is soft, and he understands that you’re giving him an out if he wants it. ‘What’s her name?’
His throat goes drier than sandpaper, and he’s suddenly speaking through a mouthful of cotton. It takes him two tries before he manages to enunciate. ‘Addison. Everyone called her Addie.’
‘Was this taken at your wedding?’
He nods, picking at a loose thread on the comforter.
‘Look at you all dashing in a suit, cowboy,’ you hum appreciatively, tracing a fingertip over the smart dark grey tweed jacket with navy accents. ‘Where did you get married?’
‘At her parents’ ranch.’
‘Under this magnolia tree?’
He nods again. ‘It was her favourite spot.’
‘She’s so beautiful,’ you say quietly.
His eyes dart to the photo in your grasp despite himself. Swallowing thickly, he says, ‘She’s buried there now, where she was always happiest.’
At that, you return the photo to its place on the bedside table, almost solemnly. This is usually the point when people stop asking questions, so when you snuggle into the crook of his shoulder, gazing at him expectantly, he frowns in confusion.
‘What is it, darlin’?’
‘Tell me about her.’
Jack is stumped, flustered at your request. He shifts, sitting up stiffly against the headboard. ‘Like what?’
You shrug. ‘I don’t know. Like - how did you meet?’
His answer is short, factual. ‘On the rodeo circuit. We both worked on the tour.’
You give him an encouraging nudge. ‘And? What was she like?’
‘She -’ he pauses and holds his breath, weighing his words. In the end, it’s the truth that he tells you. ‘She was the best person.’
He stutters to a stop again, but you’re still peering at him, your expression curious and open. He knows you won’t push him, he trusts that you wouldn’t. He could reach out and switch off the light right now, and he knows you’d leave it at that.
But a small part of him demurs. He doesn’t have the words to describe it, but something unsettling and hopeful at once stirs in his stomach, one that is stopping him from cutting short this somewhat unconventional pillow talk.
So he tests the words on his tongue, starting with something small. ‘She was a cat person. All the barn cats loved her, no matter where we went on the circuit.’
Watching the way your eyes smile at the detail, he feels a little lighter. He adds, ‘We literally had cats camping out in our truck, and I’m allergic, so I’d be sneezing and covered in hives on the long-distance drives between rodeos.’
You laugh, and his chest swells with the realisation that he doesn’t remember the last time any mention of his wife sparked anything but sad side glances and commiserating pats on the back - let alone joy.
Over the years, he had let go of her joy. Because it doesn’t hurt as much to mourn her this way.
And the guilt that he did this, took the easy way out, is almost too much for one soul-crushing moment - until you lay your head on his chest, unfurling one hand and pressing it into his side, literally holding him together, rib by rib.
He tells you about Addie. Things he’s been afraid to remember, but even more afraid that he had forgotten. Her likes, pet peeves, where she went to college, her favourite show, her irrational fear of butterflies, her favourite dress, the song that always got her up on her feet dancing wherever she was, whatever she was doing, when it came on the radio.
You listen, picking up on the way his voice falls back into that beautiful Southern cadence that you have come to know as he remembers his wife, nothing but love in his eyes as the guardedness fades with each memory he confides in you. You pepper the pauses with follow-up questions and playful quips where you’re draped across him, one arm folded underneath you and the other over his waist, but you feel yourself nodding off as the hour grows late.
He holds you to him, his palm spanning your lower back, until you go quiet.
Jack is tired, his own lids drooping with impending slumber, the sprint down memory lane taking more out of him than he expected. Brushing a kiss to the crown of your head, he rolls you off his front and onto your side, tucking you into the rumpled sheets. Spooning you from behind, he murmurs one last thing on the shell of your ear.
‘She would’ve loved you, darlin’.’
Notes: When I first started this series, I didn't have a backstory developed for Jack other than that his wife died eight and a half years before Darlin' comes on the scene. It's been such an organic and fulfilling journey developing his character and his history over the series, filling in the blanks as we and Darlin' got to know him better.
It's so important to me that his wife and his grief isn't pushed to one side for the sake of easy story telling. I've dropped little hints of his bereavement throughout the series, nothing too loud, but it's there in the background, my way of paying respect to one aspect of canon Jack that touches me very deeply despite the mess the movie makes of his story.
Out of all my Reader! characters, I would say that Darlin' is my most unassuming one. Not in a bad way at all, it's just that she doesn't have as loud a personality as Shiv or Pin, or as dramatic a storyline as Sweetheart. But this chapter, she just really came into her own. That last scene will stay with me forever ❤️
Edited to add a reminder that we still have one more chapter to go before we say goodbye to these two. I’m not ready 😭
#palomino series#jack daniels fanfiction#jack daniels x you#jack daniels x f!reader#jack daniels x reader#agent whiskey x female reader#agent whiskey fanfiction#agent whiskey smut#agent whiskey fic#agent whiskey x f!reader#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey x you#jack daniels au#agent whiskey au#pedro pascal character fic
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Treat Me Like A Slut - jack "whiskey" daniels x f!reader
warnings: explicit 18+. *MDNI*
a/n: I got the title of this from the Kim Petras song with the same name. It inspired the filth below.
y'all already know by now my sister in smut @katiexpunk helped me flesh out deets & all that. couldn't do it without you bestie babe. <3
word count: 4k+
summary: Jack returns home from a mission. You have a surprise and a request for him.
tags: Jack calls reader a slut multiple times (at her request), masturbation (m and f), size kink, unprotected P in V, oral (m and f receiving), cum eating, orgasm denial, codewords, dom/sub dynamic, pet names for reader (sugar, baby, sweet girl, kitten), reader calls Jack cowboy, references to Jack being a trained killer, reader buys and wears lingerie, established relationship, brief mention of anal play, Creampie !!!!, no physical descriptions of reader, excessive use of Daddy, rough sex, ankle biting, toe sucking, a whip gets mentioned, size kink, spanking, one (1) titty slap, Jack has some funny lines in this one, bruising, and finally Jack is just a menace in this one – sweet and kinky AF.
smut after the cut.
Jack hates jerking off.
Well, he hates jerking off when he could have you. Nothing can replicate the feeling of your lips on his cock or being buried deep inside your pussy. He fucks his cock in his fist anyway, not that he has much of an option at the moment. Sweet, salacious memories of you flood his brain as he tries to melt deeper into the mattress and he attempts to forget the past few weeks. This mission has been long and drawn out; time he would rather spend with you.
You’ve been dating for three months now and can’t stay away from each other. Like a moth drawn to a flame, Jack wants to constantly be in your orbit. When he first asked you on a date, you both agreed to take it slow. “I don’t wanna pressure you, sugar,” he said, and you had agreed that slow is good. You quickly learned that neither you, nor Jack, know the concept of the word. Your first date turned into an entire weekend together. Once he had sampled a taste of your sweetness, there was no going back.
It’s been an agonizing week for Jack. He’s always had a flair for the dramatics, but you can hear it in the tone of his voice that he isn’t exaggerating when he says this week has nearly killed him. Sure, being a Statesman is dangerous and he flirts with death on the daily, but being away from you? He’d rather be given the Old Yeller treatment than to have to be without you.
“Fuck, fuck,” he moans, taking a final few tugs at the silky smooth skin of his hard shaft before cum erupts out of him and onto his toned belly. “Fuck,” he says, letting out a long sigh, hand still on how pulsing cock as he stares at the ceiling wishing you were here to lick the spend off of him.
***
You were able to keep yourself busy and enjoy your alone time at first, but as the week went on, you became more impatient. Needy.
Tonight, your apartment feels smaller than usual, the air thicker, as you pace back and forth across the hardwood floor. The book you had been engrossed in lay forgotten on the coffee table, its characters suspended in a world you couldn’t quite bring yourself to re-enter. Your mind was too focused on Jack.
You check your phone for the umpteenth time, the minutes ticking by at an excruciatingly slow pace. The silence in the apartment echoes the restlessness in you. You feel a knot tightening in your stomach, a want, a need, a feeling of unease.
An orgasm might help, you think, but no matter how hard you try, your methods of self-pleasure never seem to fully satiate you. Sure, you’ve made yourself come a dozen times this week, but it’s not the same. You’re spoiled now; Jack’s expert hands, mouth, and god his cock have taken your pleasure threshold to new heights. He’s given you the best orgasms of your life, and now what you’re able to accomplish on your own is slightly abysmal. It’s infuriating or splendid, you can’t decide which, that he seems to know your body more than you do.
Despite knowing it won’t help, the siren call of your cunt wins over. As you lay on your shared bed, engulfed in the smell of his cologne still clinging to the pillowcases, the faint buzz of your vibrator and your sweet little sounds that drive Jack crazy add new noise to the silence. You imagine Jack and the slow, tantalizing drag of his cock in and out of you as you fold like a house of cards letting the aftershocks of your orgasm lull you to sleep.
Just one more day until he’s home.
***
The first light of morning filters through the curtains, kissing the room in a soft glow, you stir from your slumber. You let out a big good morning stretch, and clear the sleep from your eyes. As you sit up, the duvet cascades from your shoulders and you take a moment to bask in the quiet beauty of the morning. Today’s the day.
The list of things you have to do before your cowboy comes home already starts running through your mind like the end credits of a movie, and you spring out of bed and get ready for the day.
As you stroll through the downtown area, with only one bag in hand, you just so happen to walk by a lingerie store. Call it chance or fate, but the sexy tight number in the window catches your attention.
“Hey there sweet pea, what brings you in today?” the older woman greets you as you walk through the doors to the shop. She doesn’t particularly fit the vibe of the store, but her presence is a bit disarming. Of course, you’d shopped for lingerie before, but always online and never in person, so you’re a tad nervous.
“Oh, hi – uh, well I was just out running some errands,” you say, slightly lifting your bag as if to signal this isn’t planned before continuing, “the piece in the corner caught my eye, would it be possible to try it on?” you ask, your eyes dropping to the floor as you tuck a loose piece of hair behind your ear.
“Oh sure, honey, that’s a gorgeous one!” You smile and give her your size, and she tells you to look around the shop for anything else you might like to try on. You grab a handful and she leads you to the dressing room, telling you her name is Darla and to holler if you need any different sizes.
You save your favorite, the one from the window, for last. As you slip into the ensemble, the fabric feels luxe against your skin. It’s a lacy, scarlet red babydoll with a thong to match. You admire yourself in the mirror, letting your palms playfully dance over your curves. Any nervousness you feel walking into the store is slowly replaced with a new sense of confidence. Lost in the fantasy of how he’ll respond, there’s a little flutter in your stomach.
“How’s it going in there? Need any help with the laces?” Darla asks. You’re not sure if it’s in her job description to be so kind to her customers, but you like her.
“Great – I, I think I found the one,” you say, opening the curtain to let her finish fastening you into the fabric.
“Oh honey, you’re a knockout,” she says, and you feel your skin warm at the compliment. “Your man’s in for a real treat.”
Yeah. He really is.
***
Once home, the hours seem to pass by slower than molasses, as Jack would say.
You decide to take an ‘everything’ shower to kill time and to compliment your new purchase. You have the time, so you decide to go the full nine; you put on a hair mask, exfoliate, shave, and gua sha your face. You giggle as you remember Jack watching you do it once, except he couldn’t say ‘gua sha’ correctly, mispronouncing the ‘gua’ as ‘goo’.
You moisturize your body in your favorite body butter, the one that Jack thinks smells delicious, and paint your nails to match the lacy number you’ll be donning this evening. Pampering yourself like this, giving yourself the self-care you’ve been needing, amplifies the arousal that’s been brewing all day.
You illuminate the room with a warm flicker of candles, their soft glow creating an ambiance to the room around you while the dulcet tones of your favorite vinyl grace the air at a low volume. You slip into your red number and put the finishing touches on your look as you admire yourself in the mirror. You look hot, and you know it.
You’re ready to pounce on Jack as soon as he walks in.
Suddenly, the unmistakable jingle of his keys in the lock alerts you that he’s finally home. You hear the little creak of the door as he pushes it open, and then the commanding cadence of his boot-clad footsteps, a sound you could identify any day. You feel a buzz course through your body at your excitement as you take your place on the bed.
“Honey, I’m home,” Jack echoes through the entryway.
“In here!” you respond, throwing your voice in his direction.
As Jack swings open the bedroom door, his jaw practically descends to the floor in sheer astonishment, his bag meeting the ground with a resounding thud. A stunned silence envelops the room, his dark brown eyes riveted on you, unblinking and filled with an intensity that leaves him momentarily speechless, while a palpable hunger reflects in his watering mouth.
Holy. Fuck.
“Hi baby, I missed you,” you purr, your eyes locked on his, as you crawl on all fours like a tigress to her prey to finish greeting him, “did you miss me?” you ask, all flirt and no question in your voice, rising to your knees on the mattress to give him a better look at your body.
He must have died and this is heaven. There’s no other explanation for the beauty that is you before him.
He approaches you, his broad hands finding your hips as you interlace your fingers behind his neck. With his body pressed against you, you can already feel his rock-hard cock twitching in his tight, nearly painted-on jeans.
“You have no idea…” he growls in the nape of your neck before pulling away to eye you in a ravenous manner that makes your heartbeat in your pussy.
One of his hands leaves your side, and he reaches up to angle your chin towards him. He looks you in the eyes in a way that makes you feel like you’re the only woman in the world, his eyes saying all of the things his mouth isn’t. He smiles at you for a moment before he leans in and plants his lips on yours. He begins to kiss you languidly, and you both let out soft moans in unison at being in each other’s presence again. His groomed mustache tickles your lips, making you giggle into his mouth.
He pulls back, fiddling with the hem of the baby doll. “You wear this just for me?” he asks, his warm hand splaying on your tummy.
“Mhmm,” you respond, but it comes out sounding a little more like a moan than a reply. “I wanted to surprise you,” you confess while looking down at where his hand meets your stomach, “wanted to look sexy for you, Agent Whiskey,” you look back into his eyes, giving him a little wink, your allure calling out to him; snatching him up faster than any lasso ever could.
Jack normally doesn’t like his work to bleed through to his personal life, but hearing your honeyed voice call him Agent Whiskey is enough to make him abandon all the rules.
“Darlin’, ya always look sexy to me, like a goddamn sex kitten,” he drawls, leaning in to plant tender kisses on your neck, his grazing his teeth over the soft skin of your neck. You giggle, playfully swatting at him. “‘M serious, you are divine,” he adds, divine coming out more like deevine.
You may be the sex kitten in his eyes, but he’s the one lapping you up like a bowl of milk. His hands roam over the tight fabric that graces your body, and you get lost in the feel of his touch. His grip on you is tight, even though you’re fully pressed against him, he wants you closer. His need, his lust, awakens something carnal in you, causing you to lose control of your tongue as you all but word vomit, “Treat me like a slut.” Well, we probably could have eased into that conversation.
He pulls back and eyes your face in disbelief – this must be heaven – before a knowing smirk washes across his face. “Is that what you want, hmm? Want Daddy to get rough with ya, baby?” The hand that’s gripping the soft flesh of your hips begins to migrate down to your ass.
You whimper; becoming putty-like in his hands, more than ready to worship at his altar.
“Tell me, baby. Use your words like a big girl,” he urges, squeezing your ass with more force.
“Yes, daddy,” you choke out, “I want you to be rough with me, please…please.”
“My pretty girl wants me to treat her like a slut, then that’s what she’ll get,” He removes the hand on your hip, and the other from your ass, before guiding them to find yours. He interlocks your fingers together and looks at you a bit more seriously this time. You see the darkness that flickers behind his eyes. You know Jack is a dangerous man – a trained killer – but he’d never hurt you. No, this darkness is something different, it’s an insatiable desire to consume you in every way possible, to give you anything you desire.
“Wanna set some rules first, ‘kay?” he says, his voice low. You nod.
“If at any point you want me to stop, slow down, don’t like something, whatever, you tell me, alright? You remember our code word?” he asks, and you nod again. “Good. Now, you don’t get to touch me unless I tell ya to. You don’t get to come ‘til I tell ya to. Got it?”
“Yes, daddy, I understand,” you respond. He lets out another knowing smirk and palms himself through his jeans.
“‘M gonna take good care of ya, baby girl. Now, you gonna show daddy what a good little slut you can be?” he asks.
“Yes, daddy. Wanna be a good slut for you.”
You’re a little surprised at how quickly you slip into submission, although you shouldn’t be. Not when it comes to Jack. He’s a master at getting what he wants, and you’re not sure if there is anything that you wouldn’t do for him.
“Good girl. Now, off the mattress and get on your knees,” he orders, already unbuckling his jeans to free his wicked big cock.
You do as he says, feeling yourself sink your weight onto your shins and the coolness of the hardwood beneath you. “Open your mouth,” he says, his heavy cock in hand, stroking it to get it to full length.
You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, patiently waiting for your next instructions.
He continues to stroke himself, looking, admiring, the gift of a woman that sits before him. As he pumps himself, he takes a few steps forward so that he’s hovering above you. Your big doe eyes look up at him, and you’re drooling at the sight of him like you always have.
His thumb ghosts over his red and weeping tip, and he uses it to collect the dribble of precum that has beaded through his slit to wet the tip of his cock. He taps the mushroom head of it onto your tongue a few times, a sticky string of saliva trailing between him and your tongue with each lift before he eventually plants the tip fully in your mouth. Your lips lock around him, and you begin to moan, reveling in the heady taste of him. You want so badly to move, to take him deeper into your mouth, but he hasn’t told you to do so. He tangles one of his hands in your hair, firmly pulling; not too gentle, but not too rough, either.
Jack slides your mouth off of him. He’s admiring your present state; spit and precum smeared across your mouth and down your chin, hair disheveled and your eyes delirious from lust.
“Change of plans,” he says, offering no explanation as to why he’s suddenly depriving you of sucking him off.
“Don’t worry ‘m gonna take of ya, like I always do,” he says, kicking off his boots and shucking the rest of his clothes to the floor, “hands and knees on the bed, baby.”
You don’t need to be told twice. You’re clambering over yourself to follow directions, legs unsteady from your agonizing need.
Jack drops to his knees behind you, takes his thick finger, and slips it into your crack, under the lacy string situated between your cheeks. He pulls back on the thin string and releases it, the snap causing a pleasant sting against your skin.
“Soaking wet,” he hums, ‘always so fucking wet, you perfect girl,” he rasps, running that same finger through your seam, along the drenched lace, causing you to whimper. “Who’s got you so wet, baby, hmm?” he asks, knowing the answer, he just wants to hear you say it.
He lands a light swat on your ass when you don’t answer him. It sends a shiver through your spine, more arousal dripping into your thong.
“‘M not gonna ask you again. So tell me, who’s got your pretty pussy so wet, baby?”
“You, Jack, always wet for you, only you,” each word comes out shaky, so aroused you might collapse if Jack doesn’t alleviate the ache soon, “Daddy, please,” you cry.
Kneading the flesh of your ass he grunts in approval. “S’right baby, you’re mine. All mine.”
Jack pulls the thong to the side, revealing your dripping cunt to him. He spits down, trailing from your asshole to your clit, your legs clench in response. You’re using all your might not to move. This doesn’t go unnoticed by him, after all, it is his job to notice things; even on the subtlest level.
Ghosting a fingertip over your tight ring of muscle, rousing you, “You like it when I touch you like that? Touchin’ your other slutty lil hole?”
“Y-es, fuck,” gritting out through ragged breaths. He files that information for later, a smug grin plastered on his face.
He swipes his tongue from your clit up your entrance. He moans in response to your taste like you’re the best dessert he’s ever had; you whimper from the spark of pleasure of the warmth of his tongue. He teases you a few more times by lightly skimming up and down, licking you from your clit down to your aching hole. You can’t help but squirm, rocking your hips back to meet his mouth, chasing your high. He smacks your ass again, a reminder to keep still.
“Need more,” you whine pitifully, his grip on the back of your thighs is now ironclad, blocking you from gaining more stimulation that isn’t provided by him.
He halts his movements and pulls his face away from your pussy, but still close enough that you can feel his hot breath when he speaks, “I know I don’t need’ta remind you to use your manners.”
“Please, daddy, I need more, fuck, fuck, fuckkk!” you desperately cry.
“Good girl, askin’ so nicely,” punctuated by shoving a thick finger into your weeping entrance.
Jack pumps his finger in and out at a steady pace, all while flicking his tongue across your throbbing clit. When he thinks you’re relaxed enough, he slips in a second finger, and the added sensation and drag against your soft walls has you barreling towards the edge of your orgasm.
He can tell you’re close by the way your cunt grips down on him, tightening like a trap, one you never want him to leave. He slows his pace, edging you until you’re writhing in his grip. “Daddy, please, please let me come,” you’re heaving, covered in a sheen of sweat.
“My little slut gets to come when I tell her she can,” he torts.
Once he senses you’re no longer as close to finishing as you were, he slowly picks up his tempo once more and the attention he places on your clit brings you right back to the boiling point. Your fingers card through his dark locks as you hang on to him for dear life, doing your best not to come without permission.
“J–Jaa-Jack,” you cry, “I can’t hold on much longer, I’m going to come, I need to come.”
He wants to continue to edge you all night, but the growing ache from his neglected cock begins to get to him. As much as he wants to continue to devour you, his blood-filled shaft has other plans.
“Alright, you can come, let me hear you, pretty girl,” he whispers against your mound before his lips find their home around your clit, and his tongue begins to circle against it in just the right way. With his permission, you let out a sigh of relief; your orgasm washes over you like the ocean onto the shore, it’s loud and strong.
Jack gathers the slick seeping out of you onto his fingers and sucks it off, his eyes fluttering shut as he savors the final taste of your release. “That’s finger lickin’ good, baby,” he says. You might feel inclined to cringe at that, but you’re too fucked out to mind, but a little giggle escapes your chest at the comment. Only Jack could find the perfect balance of vulgarity and humor.
He drops both of his large palms to your thighs and begins to massage them with a soothing amount of pressure, grounding you through your floaty, blissed-out state, and it’s not before long that the need for more returns. He gently pecks soft kisses on your lower back, murmuring praises against your skin. Such a good girl, you did so good for me, my sweet and pretty girl. He’s sensual and sweet amidst the dominance he’s displaying, the duality makes your heart beat fast and your pussy flutter.
He rises to stand and positions himself behind where you’re bent over. He strokes his heavy cock as he marvels at how good you look like this, bent over, ass up, just waiting to be stuffed full of him. He lines the tip of his cock up against your wet and waiting cunt to gather a little bit of your slick on the head of him before he begins gliding his cock up and down through your messy folds. The sensation on your somewhat sensitive clit makes you let out a small little whimper.
“Want daddy to fuck you, pretty girl?” Just like before, he already knows the answer, he just wants to hear you beg for it, beg for him. His ego is as big as his cock. His words are as much of a tease for him as they are for you; his resolve begins to crumble further with every moment he’s not buried to the hilt inside you.
“Yes!” nodding your head despite the way it’s still spinning, “please—”
“Think she can fit it,” he asks, not giving you a second to answer as he drives the length of him inside you with no restraint. Your body jolts forward on impact and he clutches your waist, pinning you in place. Both of you are unmoving, gasping to catch your breath as you adjust to his size. It’s a stretch every time and you delight in it. “Course she can, cuz my girl is a perfect little slut,” he says, dragging his cock in and out of you with ease as your wetness coats him.
‘Fuck, baby. You feel so good, it’s like this pussy was made for me, just fuck, just for me,” he says, willing himself to not bust inside of you already, but it’s hard. Having you like this, at his mercy, coupled with the time he spent away from you, he’s shaking in his proverbial boots.
You start to reach your hand behind you to hold onto his arm, but stop, remembering the rules. You don’t get to touch me unless I tell ya to.
Jack beats you to the punch, “Go on, darlin’, grab hold’a daddy. You’re gonna need it.”
Just as soon as you wrap your hand around his forearm, he pulls almost out of you entirely before slamming back into you, the tip of his cock punches your cervix and you let out a little welp. The intensity of the relentless pace he has set has you breathless, keyed up, on the edge of another orgasm. He continues to fuck in and out of you, plowing into your pussy at a devastating pace; no mercy to be found.
Lecherous sounds echo through the bedroom; Jack’s hips slapping against the flesh of your ass, the wet squelch of your pussy, guttural groans and whines.
“Such a good fuckin’ slut for me, kitten… you take this cock so good, so fuckin’ tight, Jesus…” Jack rambles in between his thrusts.
“Tell daddy how it feels,” he commands, landing a sharp smack against your ass. “Feels so good, daddy, mmm, feel so full,” you sputter, an octave higher than you usually speak.
“Yeah I know, baby girl,” he pulls out, manhandling you onto your back, jerking your legs over his shoulders before he slams back into you in a matter of seconds, the intensity of it causes your tits to bounce and Jack loves the sight of it. The angle has his cock punching your cervix brutally and deliciously. Your cunt grips him tighter as you watch the way his jaw goes slack as he pummels in and out of you. He can use you like this forever and you’d be fine with it.
Jack turns his face to graze his teeth across your ankle, then bites the soft flesh, eliciting a yelp from you. The look in Jack’s eyes is voracious. He’ll never have enough of you.
“Eyes on me, baby,” he growls, gently slapping one of your tits through the cups of the babydoll to redirect your eyes into his. Locking eyes with one another while Jack ravages you has you hurling into another orgasm.
“Fuck, I’m so close, daddy,” just shy of shouting.
A cheeky grin breaks out on his face as if he’d gotten an idea just now. Jack lifts one of your legs off his shoulder and holds it steady, your foot now directly in front of his face. Without warning, he shoves your middle two toes into his mouth.
“Jack!” You actually shout this time. A mix of surprise and bliss.
“Scream my name as loud as you need to, sugar,” he teases, but admittedly, he loves seeing how loud he can get you to cry out his name.
He runs his warm tongue along your ticklish toes and you’re done for. “Can I come daddy? I’m so fucking close, please I need to come…” panting like a dog in heat.
“C’mon give it to me, pretty girl, gimme another and I’ll fill you up with my cum,” he encourages. He’s not far off from where you’re at. “Been such a good slut for me tonight, soak this fuckin’ cock…”
He’s rutting into you with such great force, you know you’ll be sore tomorrow. That thought is the last push you needed; you’re clenching around Jack while you’re coming; entering a rapturous daze.
“Oh fuck, Jack—fuck, ah!” mewling loudly. Your juices drip out of you onto his cock and the sheets. He loves how messy your pussy is.
“That’s it baby, mmmm such a sweet mess you made for me…” cooing at you.
He slows his speed way down, but keeps the thrusts deep, helping you ride out your second orgasm of the night.
A few hard, deep, slow thrusts and Jack is spurting his spend in your pussy.
“Fuuuuuuuuuck, baby,” halting his movements, resting his forehead against yours. The sticky sheen of sweat clings in the air; the distinctive smell of sex permeating the room.
He showers your face in tender kisses, leaving no patch of skin untouched. You adore the way Jack will fuck you within an inch of your life and will be caring and attentive afterwards.
***
Both of you lie still tangled in each others’ arms, Jack breaks the silence, “Maybe I should leave more often,” in that post-sex-husky-raspy voice you love so much.
“Nuh-uh, this week sucked without you. Leave for that long again and it’ll be you getting treated like a slut,” you taunt. You giggle uncontrollably, still under the effect of your climax.
He puffs out an exhale of relief. He’s not convinced you have a dominant bone in your body until you reveal that you purchased something else in addition to the red number still lingering on your body.
“You should see what else I bought,” you say, your voice suggestive enough to perk Jack’s ears up from his nearly fucked out comatose state.
He opens one eye and looks at you with an inquisitive face. You let out a smirk, and jump up from the bed, a bounce in your step, as you walk over to the dresser across the room.
Jack’s jaw actually falls to the floor this time when he watches you reveal a long, black, leather whip.
“My turn, cowboy.”
#jack daniels fic#jack whiskey daniels#jack daniels x you#jack daniels x reader#jack daniels smut#fanfic#clawing at my cage#fanfic writer#agent jack whiskey daniels#agent whiskey smut#agent whiskey fic#agent whiskey#agent whiskey x you#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey x female reader#pedro fics#pedro characters#pedro pascal#fanfiction smut#smut#fic writing#pedrostories#pedrohub
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Swans A Swimming
Day 7 of Pedromas! | Masterlist
Agent Whiskey x F! Reader
Synopsis: Agent Whiskey takes you for a swim.
Genre: smut
Warnings: exhibitionist, p in v sex, pool sex, unprotected sex, kissing, fingering, daddy kink, mentions of spanking, almost getting caught
Gif credits to owners!
The minute you have slipped your cover off, his eyes were on you. The lacking material of your bikini left little to the imagination. And damn was he imagining.
All he wanted to do was rip it right off of your body. But he was going to take his time. Especially if he had you in such a compromising place. The pool wasn’t exactly private and Whiskey wasn’t exactly complaining.
“Well, sweetness, what do we have here.” He says as you wade over to where he is lounging at the shallow end of the pool.
Of course, you feign innocence, “I’m not sure what you mean.” As you speak you let your hand run across his chest. The water helping you easily slide your legs over his, straddling him.
“Wearing almost nothing.” He whispers, taking the sight of your breasts in fully, now that they were right in front of him.
“Thought you’d like it.” Your hands make their way around his neck.
He lets out a mix between a laugh and a groan at your statement. Hands now finding your waist as he pulls your body into his crotch. You feel him already getting hard.
“Whoa, cowboy, this turned on already?” Now it’s your turn to laugh. You bite your lip.
“Got me all excited.” He says, simply.
His hand leaves your hip to make its way to your core. He slips his fingers past your bikini bottoms and finds your clit quickly, massaging it. You whimper at the sudden feeling.
"That's it, baby, feel it. Let me pleasure you." You're whimpering again at his words. His index finger dips past your folds, quirking them a bit to hit your g spot.
"Jack-" You whimper.
"Words." Is all he says back, not needing to say more.
"Need you, quickly. We are so exposed here."
"Really? Thought my little exhibitionist would like it out here. What with the way you teased me at dinner the other night." His other hand has now made contact with your clit, rubbing it in time with his fingers.
"That was-that was different."
He tsks at you, "Not sure it was, pretty girl. I mean you're putty in my hands right now, I think you like it."
Instead of responding you just moan at his words and reconnect your lips to his. Biting down on his bottom lip with his fingers hit extra deep inside of you.
Now he's moaning into your lips as your hips buck into his hand, trying to get yourself off. You can tell he wants you as much as you want him. He's enjoying the fact that the two of you could be caught at any minute just as much as you are. You can especially tell by how easily he reacts to your touch when you decide to tease him back.
Your hands have found their way to his hardened dick, teasing him through the fabric of his swim trunks. He is once again left moaning, as his hips are now the ones bucking up. You giggle slightly at how much he reacts to you.
"Think teasing me is funny?" He says simply. The words are laced with subtle annoyance, more from a place of dominance than anger.
"Just want you so bad, daddy." The nickname makes him pause for a second. You smile to yourself, knowing what it does to him.
"You won't be laughing when I've spanked you more times than you can count later. When I bring you to your edge over and over again, but don't allow you to cum." Although the words are talking about punishment, they still make you wetter at the thought. A little whimper slips past your lips at his words.
Now he's laughing, before slipping his fingers out of you. You let out a whine at the loss, but he just tsks again. Pulling his trunks down just enough to let his dick out, he grabs your hips and lets the water help guide you down on it. You moan instantly at the stretch. Not giving you much time to adjust, he starts to lift you off of his dick before pushing you back on it. His hips move upwards to press his member even deeper into you.
He continues this rough motion, keeping the pace fast, trying to bring you both to orgasm quickly. You aren't sure if its because you teased him so much, that you are out in public, or because he can't wait to get your back to the bedroom. But whatever the reason you aren't complaining. Especially when his dick hits your g spot, causing you to fall forward slightly, loosing your balance.
He's laughing at you again, "See, putty." The words are matched with his thumb finding your clit again, working it in circles. His lips find yours and kiss you, hard. Slipping his tongue past your lips when you gasp at the mixture of feelings.
The water moves with his thrusts, splashing up around you two. But you are too busy to notice the chlorine in your eyes, not with the beginnings of your orgasm starting. Your walls clench around his dick, signaling your impending peak.
"Cum with me." Is all you need to hear before your walls are spasming over his dick, drawing his orgasm also out of him.
As your walls continue to milk him of his cum, his thrusts become slower and so does his thumb on your clit. When he has figured, you two are fully down from your highs, he pecks your lips before leaning his forehead against yours.
"Well, that was fun, but we might wanna calm down and get out of here. I think some people are coming." He says before tilting his head towards the sound of people yelling and laughing coming closer.
Quickly you lift yourself off of him, causing him to hiss at the speed you did it at. You fix your bikini bottoms as you walk up the steps and out of the pool.
Winking back at him as you purposefully show your ass to him before slipping your cover over yourself. More specifically your ass that he was eyeing like he had never seen anything like it. As his view is covered he looks up to your eyes, your eyes spark with play.
You bend down, face inches from his, "Come on, daddy. Why don't we try out the sauna?"
Your lips brush his, before pulling away right before he can kiss you. He falls forward a bit, expecting to meet you instead of air. You stand and saunter off towards the sauna. Swaying your hips, knowing that his eyes are bearing into you as you walk away.
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#fanfiction#fanfic#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal imagine#12 days of pedromas#pedromas#agent whiskey#agent whiskey x reader#jack daniels x reader#jack whiskey daniels#agent whiskey x you#agent whiskey smut#jack daniels smut#the kingsman smut#the kingsman story#agent whiskey fic#agent whiskey fanfic#agent whiskey fanfiction#jack daniels fic#jack daniels x you#jack daniels fanfiction#jack daniels fanfic#jack daniels x female reader#jack daniels#the kingsman fic#the kingsman fanfic#the kingsman fanfiction
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string lights
summary: you want to decorate the Christmas tree, Jack has other things in mind.
pairing: jack “whiskey” daniels x f!reader
word count: 1.7k
warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; dirty talk; unprotected p in v; some bondage; inappropriate use of string lights (and probably unsafe too)
a/n: finished this despite writer's block, enjoy!
• masterlist •
Never ever give Jack Daniels anything that resembles a piece of rope.
That was something she had learned quite quickly while living with him, because if Jack was one thing, it was a fucking menace.
A terrible, hot and cocky menace.
As soon as he could get his hands on rope inside the house – and sometimes even outside of the house, like in the barn – he would not hesitate to use it. It was a fun habit, really. The things he would do with it ranged from grabbing things from across the room, to catching her so he could pull her into his body amongst other quite entertaining things.
Or loop it around her body for an impromptu bondage session. Pretty knots carefully placed all over her body, making her writhe below his broad frame while she desperately moaned his name.
She really should’ve known better than to let him detangle the string lights for the Christmas tree. Because usually, that was her job. It was calming most of the time, sitting cross legged on the sofa and slowly freeing inch by inch from the huge ball it had turned into over the year.
With the TV running in the background, while Jack got the tree all set up in the corner of the living room before he would start on the exterior of the house.
This time, she had given him the task to detangle them, all because she wanted to decorate the living room. She hadn’t gotten around to doing it before now, setting down the little cowboy themed ornaments wherever she could.
Santa dressed as a cowboy, cows instead of reindeers, fitted with small Christmas hats and festive looking cowboy boots were just some of the things.
They had even more ornaments to go on the tree, some downright ridiculous, but charming in a way.
But just as she was finishing up the fireplace, hanging up stockings that looked like cowboy boots, she felt something loop around her middle and pull her back.
And that’s how she had ended up here, string lights wrapped around her wrists and arms, looping around her torso. Blinking in colourful lights like she was the Christmas tree – just spread out on the floor in front of it.
Arms raised above her head, the lights leading to the nearest outlet, Jack knelt between her bare, spread thighs and laughed at the display.
“Ain’t you a pretty thing?” He drawled, the southern accent thick as he spoke. Always showing those pearly white teeth as he smiled, his rough hands smoothing under the fabric of her top.
They were cold, a shiver running over her skin and her nipples hardening beneath the knitted sweater.
“I look like a fucking Christmas tree.” She replied with a small laugh, arching her back when Jack’s hands found the swell of her breasts. A moan slipped past her lips as he squeezed them, his clothed bulge rutting against her naked pussy when he shifted slightly. “You gonna put me on display instead of that?”
A twinkle appeared in his eyes, clearly liking the idea she had thrown out as a joke. The mental image of her standing in that corner instead of the tree, full of ornaments and string lights, simply was too good.
“Don’t give me ideas, darlin’.” He chuckled, leaning over her to slot his lips over her own. Grinding his middle into her on purpose, just to hear those small gasps and pants tumble into his mouth, her legs wrapping around his middle.
She struggled against the restraints, some of the warm bulbs pressing into her skin - Jack had made sure these were LEDs so he wouldn’t accidentally burn her. It was kinda fun to be restrained like this, but, fuck, she really needed to touch him. Open the zipper of those damn jeans so he could finally fuck her instead of rubbing himself against her clit.
“Jack, please.” She whined against his lips, his thick mustache tickling her skin as he kept kissing her. Like he was in no rush to continue, despite the hard length in his jeans. “Fuck me.”
Jack leaned back with a chuckle, smirking down at her while he admired his work. The blinking lights only added to the usual excitement of seeing her tied up, completely at his mercy but now bathed in a flurry of lights.
A small, wet patch was visible on his jeans, making her groan.
“I think I’ll be nice today, little lady.” He drawled, his hands running over her exposed thighs, then over her calves before leaving her skin and finding the zipper of his jeans. “Givin’ you an early Christmas present.”
Even a so-called present from Jack included some teasing, palming himself with one hand while a small groan escaped him, the other one slowly pulling down the zipper. Keeping her squirming in her restraints, on the plush carpet below her.
“You’re gonna give me a headache, Jack.” She groaned, her eyes glued to where his thick fingers now vanished into his jeans to pull out his cock. Already leaking, the tip fat and dark and just begging to be buried inside of her. “Gimme your cock, please.”
Jack spit into his hand, giving himself a few small tugs, languid and teasing before moving closer to her. Slowly he let the head drag through her glistening folds, coaxing a whine out of her whenever he nudged against her swollen clit.
Savouring this, and the sight of her, watching how she spread her legs wider so she exposed herself to him. A million ideas raced through his head as he watched the lights blink rhythmically, making him unable to wait any longer as he pressed inside of her.
“Oh, fuck yeah…” She breathed out, enjoying the stretch his cock brought as he stretched her open, her fingers flexing and needing to touch him.
He braced himself with one hand on each side of her head, his cowboy hat lopsided when he looked down at her, brown eyes even darker than before. This was so much better than decorating the tree.
“You think we can do other things with those lights, cowgirl?” Jack rasped, already overwhelmed by her when he started to move. Slowly, pulling almost all the way back before slamming himself back into her. “Tie you to the bed with it? Make it a lil’ more festive?”
She nodded, moaning when he hit that good spot inside of her. The idea was good, something about him tying her to the bed with these string lights instead of their usual rope just added to the excitement.
The small lights pressing into her skin, warming it up, definitely helped turn her on. To see her skin lit up in reds and blues and greens while he fucked into her, his face illuminated by them too.
“Sounds fucking good, Jack.” She breathed out, her back arching when he picked up his speed. One of his hands bunched up the fabric of her sweater, pulling it up to expose her breasts to him, the air of the living room cold against her heated skin.
“Look at you like this.” He groaned, ducking his head to suck one pebbled nipple into her mouth, licking and biting at it while he kept fucking into her. “Think these are sturdy enough to hang you from the ceiling?”
“Oh, God.” She moaned. They had recently gotten into it, letting Jack tie his knots all around her body and then suspending her from their bedroom ceiling. That image made her squeeze his cock hard. “Please, yes!”
Jack chuckled around her nipple, his own mind consumed by the image of her suspended by these colourful lights. He could decorate her like a tree, add ornaments to the knots, into her hair.
She always wanted things to be more festive.
“Yeah, you like that, don’t you, little lady?” He drawled, feeling himself close to just spilling inside of her. The wet squelch of her was evidence enough that this needed to happen again. “Hangin’ from the ceiling, all nice ‘n pretty for me while I stretch your little pussy open with my fingers and my cock?”
“Tie me up again.” She whined, legs wrapping around his hips and pulling him in deeper. The wiry hair above his cock kept brushing against her clit, creating more of that friction she desperately craved, so close to the edge. “Gonna cum, Jack, fuck-”
The thought of it all - her hanging from the ceiling while the lights deliciously bit into her skin and Jack’s thick fingers fucked into her - let her orgasm crash into her, rolling over her like an avalanche. She pulled Jack closer, tightening the grip her legs had on him, a low grunt coming from him as her pussy sucked him in deeper, gripping him like a vice.
“That’s it, ‘atta girl.” He groaned, spilling his cum inside of her just a few shallow thrusts later, bending his head to press his lips onto hers, teeth clashing against each other with the force of it. “Cum all over my cock.”
Once again she strained against the string around her wrists, her arms hurting at this point while wave after wave washed over her, her whines and moans muffled by his mouth on hers.
Slowly calming down, he pushed himself up again, looking down at her while she dazedly smiled at him. Warm and cozy beneath him.
“You can detangle the lights more often, cowboy.” She giggled, wincing slightly when she moved her arms once more. Now that the rush of the pleasure and her orgasm ebbed away, it did hurt a little bit.
Jack swiftly opened the knots he had tied around her wrists before moving down her arms, granting her movement.
“I’m serious ‘bout you hangin’ from the ceiling, sugar.” Jack drawled, taking one of her wrists into his large hand once he had freed her and brought it to his mouth to kiss the faint, red mark there. A dangerous glint was in his eyes, and she knew that as the idea had sparked in his head, he would definitely go ahead and try it out with her. “We’ve got the setup, just gotta get more lights, mhm?”
She giggled again, shaking her head with a roll of her eyes. “Let’s get the tree set up first, alright?”
Jack laughed too, pulling out of her and then helping her get dressed.
Oh, he couldn’t wait to see her covered in those tiny lights once again. And maybe she’d let him decorate her just a little more, too.
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ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚Pedro Pascal Masterlist
💋Smut | 🫀Fluff | 🥀 Angst | 🧠Imagine | 🪡Series | 🌷One shot | 🗣️Drabble
Comforting you after a nightmare 🫀🗣️
Pedro getting jealous 🫀🗣️
Body worship 💋🫀🗣️
Fighting and making up 🫀🥀🗣️
Sleepless night 🫀🗣️
dad!Pedro getting his nails done 🫀🗣️
I’ll Always Come Back 💋🫀🌷
Occam’s Razor 💋🫀🌷
dbf!Joel + touching you 💋🫀🧠
Crush 💋🫀🥀🌷
Apocalyptic anniversary 🫀🥀🗣️
When You’re Lost in the Darkness 💋🫀🥀🌷
Yes, Mr Miller 💋🫀// pt2 Thank You, Mr Miller 💋🫀
The Good, the Bad, and the Better (part 2 here)🥀🪡
Gentle/Dangerous 💋🌷
Teaching you Mando’a 💋🫀🧠
Tatooine quickie 💋🗣️
Stupid For You 🫀🪡 (ON HIATUS)
Surprise, Surprise 💋🌷
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The Babymoon
Agent Daddy Whiskey x Female Reader
◆
Word Count: 4.2k
Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)
Brief mention of reader’s hair (Jack just brushing it aside), established relationship/marriage, pregnant reader, dirty talk, aggressively passionate Jack (I’m W E T), degradation/teasing, breeding kink, daddy kink (ofc), spit kink, rough sex, choking, biting, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, and some fluffies
◆
A/N: I apologize for the late post but ya girl has the stomach flu y’all
◆
Daddycember ‘23 Masterlist
Join My Taglist!
◆
Every small grunt forces a ping of guilt through your husband’s gut, both hands working tirelessly to relieve your pain. Truly, he didn’t know the walk would be so rigorous for you, but he should’ve known, should’ve researched more before coming out. But he does his best to make the situation better; he carried all of the bags, both yours and his, set them down in their appropriate rooms and then rushed back to tend to you. Jack led you over to the couch, letting you lay out while he removed your socks and shoes.
“I’m sorry, sugar.” He mumbled, removing his hat while kneeling down. “Didn’t realize it was such a long hike.”
“It’s okay.” Came your sigh of reassurance, head tilted back. “It was worth it.”
And that made him incredibly happy, forcing that handsome smile right across his face. What you said was true, too, coming here was definitely worth it. With Jack’s busy work schedule, and you constantly prepping for the baby, the two of you needed a break, especially before your newborn gets here. And that’s exactly what this trip was intended for. Some time away to relax, reset, and enjoy each other’s presence.
Jack’s lips find their way to your ankles and calves, fingers massaging your sore feet. He didn’t mind doing this for you, did it almost every night, in fact. It became routine for him quite quickly; he could never not care for you. But thankfully, most of the more aggressive symptoms have subsided alongside the beginning of your third trimester. No more intense nausea or bloating, no more awful heartburn. The worst of your troubles have been general muscle aches and pelvic pain, but you’d take that over vomit any day.
“I can feel him kicking.” A sudden laugh comes from your throat, both hands falling to your belly.
Jack grins, reaching up with one of his own hands. “He’s a wild one, in there.”
“You… you think it’ll really change?” All Jack does is look up with confused concern. “Our lives, the way we are, when he comes.”
His casual shrug serves as minimal reassurance. Glancing back down at your feet, Jack clears his throat. “Sure it will, babycakes. But not in a bad way.”
“How do you know it won’t be in a bad way?”
“Because I won't let it be that way.” Chocolate eyes meet yours once again, full of warmth and kindness. “Don’t worry so much, honey. We’re on vacation.” And with that, he’s standing, leaning over to kiss your forehead. “Let me go make you a drink.”
And in this brief lull, you let out a relaxed breath, feeling at ease in Jack’s care. He’d always been such an attentive man, an attentive partner, able to identify and tend to your wants and needs before you even knew what they were. Being observant was in his nature, and branched into every area of his life, even now.
“Here you go, sugar.” Handing you the drink with a smile on his face, Jack turns toward the fireplace, taking it upon himself to light it.
It’s easy to admire him, not only for his incredibly handsome features, but for his wonderfully doting personality. He takes care of you, in every sense of the word. You’ve never felt safe before, like you do with him.
Although the walk up to the cabin was laborious, he’s still glad he chose it. Perfectly secluded and quiet, up in the Kentucky mountains. The entire estate is surrounded by woodland brush and gentle creatures, deers and rabbits and birds. The surrounding peace is everything the two of you have been craving, a place to relax and reconnect. Your travels happened later in the evening, though, the night sky already beginning to grow. And with the stars peeking out from behind the clouds, and Jack lighting the fireplace, the entire situation seemed all too familiar.
“You know…” Looking over at Jack, he stands, briefly clapping the dust from his hands. “This kind of reminds me of our honeymoon.”
“Yeah?” He asks, flashing you that dazzling grin. And then he shrugs, walking over to you. “That was kinda the point.”
Romantic, warm, and beautiful, qualities that mirror both your relationship and post-wedding vacation. It still makes you grin, still makes butterflies erupt inside your belly that Jack is willing to do all of this for you.
“Wanna spoil you, angel.” Jack then hums, brushing aside some hair so he can get to your neck. And then he’s placing a single, sweet kiss, smiling. “How’re you feelin’, hm? Sore? Anything I can do?”
The mention of your honeymoon has his insides stirring, his mischievous nature growing. Alongside these playful emotions comes the presence of Jack’s hand on your thigh, warm even through the material of your pants. He rubs you firmly, giving the plush fat of your legs a slow squeeze.
Spoiling you is genuinely Jack’s pleasure, and he does it because he loves you; and this trait grew tenfold when you decided to carry his baby. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t use these situations for his own satisfaction, too. Watching your body grow makes his entire body run hot, your soft and squishy thighs, your round belly and perfectly plump backside. And Jesus Christ, your tits, he never thought they could get any more enticing before you got pregnant. But now? So swollen with your nipples all sensitive and red… he can’t keep himself away. He just can’t, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to on your private getaway.
The slightest, most timid smirk forms on your face, eyes choosing to look away. “Well… you already took care of my feet.” Something in you says that Jack is looking for an excuse, for any simple reason to touch your body, massage it and just feel every inch of it that he can.
“Yeah?” He responds, chestnut orbs traveling down your figure. “What about your legs?”
“They’re fine, not too sore.” Shrugging, you do your best to suppress your laugh. Sometimes, teasing Jack was fun.
Raising a brow, he then asks, “Your hips? Stomach?” Now, he’s running his palm over your swollen belly, chest inhaling a deep breath. Nothing about pregnancy turned him on before, not until he saw you carrying his child. Who knew Jack Daniels had a breeding kink?
“Nope.” Finally turning to face him, you smile innocently. “I’m okay, baby.”
The look on your face is kind and calm, but the twinkle in your eye tells him you’re only playing. And his own expression is growing stern, contemplating his next move.
“You don’t seem to get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
And in one quick motion, Jack’s hand rises to grab harshly at your chest, squeezing one breast in hand. It makes you gasp, makes your body jump with surprise.
“Daddy wants to touch you, sugar.” In an instant, he’s closer, breathing heavier against you. “Daddy wants to touch your sweet body and watch you fall apart in his arms.”
With an exasperated sigh, he’s then falling to your neck, sucking on it with wet lips. His sudden advance has your jaw dropping, lips curling up at the ends. Keeping his hand on your chest, his fingers press into your skin, massaging your tit before collecting his fingers so he can toy with your nipple.
“Jack,” Comes your simple sigh, head falling back.
“I know,” He says, mouthing at your neck. “It feels so good for you, honey.”
His mouth moves to your jawline, licking it, nipping at it, while brushing his thumb across the point of your breast. Even the slightest bit of friction made them hard, whether it be a small breeze or the soft fabric of your shirt. They’d never been more sensitive, and Jack had never been more interested.
“You know I wanna touch you,” Jack mumbles over your skin, hand dropping to your legs. “Fuckin’ tease.”
Cupping you between your thighs pulls a full moan from your throat, head lifting just in time to see him lean into your chest. Jack buries his face into you, right between your smooth mounds while his tongue dips into your cleavage.
“Oh, god, I want this, sugar.” Though, you can barely hear him with his face stuffed between your tits. Lifting both hands, you encourage him, holding him there by the back of his head.
“Daddy,” Two fingers rub firm circles over your covered center, your husband groaning quietly when you grab onto his hair.
“Let me do this, baby doll.”
Nodding rapidly, you gulp. “Okay, daddy. Okay…”
Moving away from you with a swift inhale, Jack lifts himself from your body. Already, his pupils are blown, his pants tented firmly against your thigh. And for a brief second, you laugh. The two of you haven’t even been here for more than thirty minutes and he’s already trying to get into your pants.
“Gorgeous fuckin’ thing.” The praise makes you flush and he knows it, making his way down so he can kneel between your legs. “Get these off, sugar.” And even though he says it like a command, he does it for you, undoing your jeans and yanking them down your legs. The help you offer is brief, a simple lift of your hips. But then you’re falling back down and watching him spread your legs.
“Yeah… this is what I wanna see.” With his gaze focused on your center, Jack groans, tongue poking out to lick his lower lip. “Already leakin’ through your panties…”
In an experimental act, he reaches out, finger swiping over the very center of the delicate cloth. It’s damp, the middle darkened from your wetness. And that makes him grin, makes him fucking throb in his pants.
“You know it, don’t you?” He asks before leaning forward and stuffing his face between your thighs. Again, it takes you by surprise, forcing your legs wider while that curved nose of his nuzzles its way into your crotch. And then, he’s inhaling, hot mouth opening to taste you through your panties.
“D-Daddy,” This time, it comes out as a whine, one hand fisting his hair while the other grabs hold of the couch.
“Ugh,” Lifting himself just enough for you to hear, he says, “Know just how fuckin’ good you taste.” Reaching forward, Jack hooks two fingers around your panties before pulling them aside. And then his tongue is laying out, flattening it to give your cunt one firm, wet swipe.
“Fuck,” Puffing out a harsh breath, your eyes are fluttering shut, feeling the firm shove of his tongue.
“Get so goddamn wet like this, babycakes.” He notes, mouthing at your clit. Lifting a hand, he grabs onto your hip, urging you to sit back and lift your pelvis up a bit. It gives him better access, after all. “Been a goddamn fountain since I got you pregnant.”
And that makes you laugh, hands lowering to brush kindly through his hair. Both of those broad palms then move beneath your thighs, holding them with a secure grip while sucking on your core. It’s already on his face, on his lips and chin and cheeks. And lord, does he love that. He’d willingly drown in this if he could. Getting his face wet with your slick made him the happiest man on earth, made him harder than he ever thought he could be.
“Pretty little whore, aren’t you?” Jack chuckles, leaning back to spit on your folds. “Sittin’ here with my baby inside you, and your body’s still beggin’ for more.” The devil truly came out when he was like this, nothing but offensive praise and aggressive passion.
Running his tongue up and down through your lips, he groans, wrapping his mouth around your sensitive bud. And when he gives the tiniest succession of sucks, pulsing his lips around that tiny pearl, you feel like you’re going to come undone. Every part of you feels light and airy, like you could float away at any second. It’s like you’re buzzing with it, with euphoria and happiness. And he just keeps going, just keeps his head between your legs and his mouth on your throbbing cunt.
Jack knows when to hold you down, he’s done this too many times to not be aware. The grip he gives your hips is bruising, digging in with ferocity while shoving you onto his mouth. Your hips grind against him, head forcing itself back while you cry out for him. It’s a sweet whine, a gasping moan, fingers tightening on those dark brown strands while he fucks his tongue into you over and over again. He did that every time he ate you out, sucked on your clit until he made you unravel and then dove down to collect what he’d worked so hard for.
“I’m so fucking in love with you.” He’s out of breath, reaching for your jaw before smashing his mouth to your own. Instantly, the combination of his spit and your slick is running down your chin, legs shaking gently while Jack consumes you from above.
“I’m, I - baby.”
“Get up,” Jack grunts, hauling you up by your arms. “Gonna get you in bed so I can see the mess you made for me.”
Keeping his grip on your bicep, he pulls you alongside him, hurrying down the hall. The master bedroom isn’t far, which your shaky legs are thankful for. His demanding words and actions make everything seem so quick, like you don’t have a choice in anything that’s going on. And truthfully, you want it that way. You want Jack to make the decisions, you want to lie down and do whatever he wants you to.
Shoving you forward, he watches you stumble onto the bed, a bright grin on your beautiful face. Taking a beat, he pauses, standing above you before beginning to remove his shirt. And while keeping that deadly gaze, you move backward on the covers, shimmying out of your panties.
Eyes dipping down, he nods toward your chest. “Take off your bra.”
While unbuttoning his shirt, he watches you complete his task, tossing the last bit of your clothing onto the floor beside your bed. And just in time for him to shove his pants down, too.
“Mine,” He suddenly says, crawling over you on the bed. “Mine - all mine.”
Again, he’s obsessing over your breasts, shoving his face between them while his hands work the rest. His body rubs against you, cock wet and leaking on your thigh. It makes your insides burn bright, seeing his overt attraction for you. He gets so passionate when he’s like this, so vulnerable yet assertive, confident.
“Let me get my fingers inside you.” That breathy voice says, licking two of them before dragging them down your chest.
While his tongue lays out, toying with your nipples, Jack’s fingers dip inside your entrance, already loose from your orgasm. So sweet and welcoming, velvety and warm. And all you can do is writhe beneath the weight of his body, turning your head to kiss his cheek and neck. The curl of his fingers practically makes you shriek, feeling your body react on its own accord.
“So sensitive like this, baby.” It’s lazy, the way he licks your nipples, teeth dragging over the red and puffy peaks. And then he’s sucking on them, sucking on the swollen swell of your tits and groaning like he’d just cum in his goddamn pants.
“Tell me you want more.”
“I want it,” Nodding, you gasp, swallowing dryly. “I want more.”
Your hips cant upwards in time with his fingers’ movement, hands grasping for his bicep and back. But it’s not enough, not for him.
“Tell daddy you need him, c’mon.”
“Daddy, please.”
“Nuh-uh,” Breathily, he chuckles. “Use your big girl words, sweet pea.”
“I need you, I need you, daddy. Please, please.” In an attempt to convince him, you lower your hand, finding him laying heavy over your thigh. The firm grip you give his cock makes everything slow down for him, his eyes shutting alongside a small hiss. Even his fingers fall slack, chest dropping against your own.
“Touch me, baby.” It’s a quiet command, one said while he nods. “Touch daddy.��
Knowing that he’s happy with this, you grin, running your fist up and down his length. Glancing down between your bodies, Jack watches, eyeing the way your thumb swipes over his tip.
“Oh, fuck.” Shaking his head, Jack sighs, hips rocking into your grip. “Always need you like this, sugar, always…”
You can’t deny that it’s been hard these past few weeks, hell, these past few months. Being intimate hasn’t been a priority for the two of you, unfortunately; stress just took control of your lives. Jack’s career was becoming incredibly demanding, leaving you to care for the house and your unborn baby all on your own. Setting up the nursery, going to doctor’s appointments by yourself, feeling the baby kick without your husband there to experience it, somedays, it was just heartbreaking for you. But you’re here now, you’re together, without a single distraction in sight. You’re his, and he’s mine. That fact is always in your mind.
Taking himself from your hand, he settles between your legs with a relieved breath. Jack’s love for you consumes him, his entire body and mind. He just wants to wrap himself around you, looping his arms around your back while burying his face in your hair.
“Jack,” It’s said quietly while you hold him, stroking his hair.
Lifting one hand, it rests on your left breast, Jack’s hips moving to push into you slowly. The way you open up for him is an absolute dream, a breathless laugh spilling from his mouth as it happens. And when he pinches your nipple, you whine, forcing a jump from his cock as it rests inside.
“You just need a lil’ extra somethin’, don’t you, sweetheart?” There’s a teasing tone to his voice, but you’re not sure what he means.
Pressing his face into the curve of your neck, Jack smiles brightly, lips dragging over the skin as he begins to move. So he doesn’t hurt you, the hand on your chest moves to the bed, placing all of his weight onto it.
“Puttin’ my dick inside you just ain’t enough anymore. Was it ever?”
“Daddy, what…” The steady pump of his cock between your legs is making you feel delirious, flooding your body with a sense of euphoria you’ve never felt before your pregnancy. “What do you mean?”
“Remember what we used to do, sugar? You remember?” Heat creeps onto your cheeks as he says it, legs lifting to his waist as the arousal in your body heightens. “You remember what you did in my office?”
“B-Baby,” He knows this gets to you, knows it hits right to your core.
“I remember,” Jack continues, licking at your neck. “Bendin’ you over my desk, fuckin’ you dumb over my paperwork. Or how ‘bout the times you sucked me off while I talked to Champ, huh? What about that?”
Every firm shove forces the tip of his cock against your most sensitive spot, the thin tissue that just begs for his presence. And that, alongside those devilish words, is making you drip around him.
“Crawling on your knees for me in my jet,” He’s throbbing inside you, words becoming airy as he reconnects with your body. “Shit,” Hissing harshly, his eyes pinch shut. “Fuck me, honey. You remember rubbing yourself over me? Over my new goddamn boots because you were so horny?”
“Fuck, yes.” Exposing your neck even more, you toss your head back, feeling Jack’s teeth make their own special imprint.
The memory is all too erotic, something you honestly can’t believe you did. Jack made you stupid; he was so goddamn attractive, so goddamn charming, that you’d do anything just to please him. Even if it meant humiliating yourself, you’d do it just to get off.
“Hm…” You sigh out, placing your chin on his knee and closing your eyes in contentment.
“How’s that feel, honey?” He asks, reaching down to tilt your chin up to him.
Your eyes open, lids already heavy with adoration and lust. Jack’s smiling down at you, his expression soft and caring.
“So good,” Comes your contented hum, more than happy to finally have contact with your lover.
“Yeah?” He whispers, “Then keep goin’. Make ‘em all wet and shiny for me, honey.”
You whimper quietly at his words, moaning lightly as you lean forward to begin moving your hips. The movement of your soft skin, your folds brushing over the smoothness of the material, only furthers the waves of heat that begin flowing through your core.
“Go on,” He urges, “entertain me, sweet pea.”
“God, do I miss that. Havin’ my own little slut on tap.”
“Daddy, I’m, I’m still here.” It sounds pathetic, like you’re begging, trying your damnedest to prove to him that that part of you hasn’t left.
“Oh, I know you are.” Lifting himself from your body, Jack glares down at you, one hand lifting to grab your jaw. “I know you’re there, babycakes. Comes out every time I’m inside you, every time I give you a demand. Why don’t you show me?”
At this, your brows raise innocently, unable to speak from the grip he has on your jaw and chin. And amidst your silence, he says, “Show me how well you still listen to me… and open that mouth.”
As soon as his grip allows you to, your lips are parting. That strong hand drops to your throat then, Jack’s face coming down to drip a cool trail of spit onto your tongue. But he’s not done then, not until spitting forcefully onto your mouth. And the moan you exude is nothing short of whorish and erotic, the liquid sliding over your tongue.
“Yeah…” The word is said with a cocky sense of power, that gorgeous half-smirk crawling onto his face. “You just can’t get off to that vanilla shit anymore, can you, babycakes? You need it rough, don’t you?”
That hand is still on your throat, and only tightens as he speaks. With every thrust, his pelvis slaps against you, forcing your legs wider, and forcing himself deeper.
“Need daddy to manhandle you? Choke you? Hold you down and bruise you?”
Burying himself inside your cunt, you can’t help but feel so perfectly full, the veins along his shaft rubbing delightfully against your inner skin. It feels so natural, this connection, so natural and sensual. But nothing about it is sweet; everything about this encounter screams salacious and indecent.
“Yes,” Comes your little plea, nodding. “Yes.”
Each shove rocks your body against the mattress, the strength of Jack’s body surrounding your entire presence. He feels so warm and strong, soft when he needs to be and mean when he wants to be.
“I love this,” Jack admits, “Love nothing more than this; connecting with you. Look at you, just look at you.”
Lowering himself with a flurry of rapid breaths, he presses his mouth to your cheek, expressing his adoration for you. “You’re so good for me, my pretty baby. So pretty like this, sugar. Fuckin’ gorgeous when you take me.”
“I need you, can’t, can’t live without you.”
“Never, sugar.” Gasping against the side of your head, Jack’s chest stutters, a deep groan slipping from his lips. “Always here for you, with you.”
When he gets like this, you can’t help but wrap your legs around him, tightening every muscle and pulling him in. And he lets you, falling into your embrace with a deep moan of gratification. It consumes him, the pleasure of it all, of releasing inside your wonderfully welcoming body. Jolting slightly above your beautiful and giving form, Jack moans helplessly, feeling his release wash over your walls. Every spurt is accompanied with a sharp shudder, arms moving to encircle you fully. Humid grunts pass over your ear, his mouth hanging open as he experiences the sensation of it.
“My sweet girl.” Your husband finally says, his body tingling with every ounce of happiness that he has. His hold is full of pure, unwavering love, full of absolute worship and adoration. And beneath him, you relax, wanting nothing more than to rest with him in this peace.
Kissing your head, Jack whispers sweetly, “Perfect little thing.”
It’s in this moment that you feel every single worry melt away, every anxious thought about Statesman and the baby. Those negative notions serve absolutely no purpose to you, not when Jack is here, not when he cares for you so consistently and so openly. With Jack, you’re safe, you’ve never known otherwise. And nothing could ever take him away from you.
#daddyyy YESSSSS#YES#Daddy Whiskey#Agent Whiskey#Jack Daniels#Agent Whiskey x you#Agent Whiskey x reader#Agent Whiskey x female reader#Agent Whiskey smut#Daddycember#Daddycember 2023#Daddycember '23
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𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐕𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐒 — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 ‘𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐘’ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐒
↳ summary: sick of sharing your lover, you pull out a master plan to convince him to stop 'seducing' his targets.
↳ pairing: jack 'whiskey' daniels x f!reader
↳ [2.1k words] content:18+ MDNI, jealous reader, soft!domme/sub dynamics, tying wrists, sex toys (m receiving), orgasm denial (m receiving), cum eating. This is a @beskarbabs remaster -- original post date 2021.
jack masterlist I| main masterlist |I join taglist
The last thing Agent Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels expected to see when he returned home from his essential field mission was indisputably what he walked into as soon as he came in through the front door of your shared apartment in New York.
You had been distressed by Jack's mission plan from the get-go, given the precariousness of him going undercover, but even more so when you were informed that he would need to... liaise with one of his targets. You'd told Champagne that he needed to get rid of those shitty "condom trackers" immediately after seeing the multiple disputes it had caused between other agents and their partners. Still, Champ had insisted that it was the most efficient way of tracking targets and that this was a matter of national security; you'd simply have to put your faith in Jack.
And you did have faith in Jack. You had complete assurance in his devotion to your relationship. However, that didn't mean you had to agree to share him with a target. He was a lady's man, a charmer. You knew he could flirt anyone, man or woman, into bed if he tried hard enough. But given he had no choice, and he always came home to you rather than running away with another woman, you didn't allow your jealousy to seep through until AFTER he came home.
Your distinct lack of clothing results in Jack's frankly amusing expression as he walks in from work, lips parted and eyebrows raised with shock as he looks you over. You wear nothing but the lacy lingerie set that Jack bought as a gift for your anniversary a few weeks ago. Bare, bar for the lace, you stand patiently in the middle of the hall, looking Jack over from head to toe with an expression of indigence.
"Well, well, Sugar. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He breaks out in that signature smirk of his, walking forward to wrap his arm around your waist. You put up your index finger, stopping the brash and self-assured agent in his tracks. He glanced down, noting the lasso in your hand.
"Darlin'-" You reach up, taking the knot of his tie in your hand and pulling it down and off, the fabric making a soft 'wooshing' sound as it slipped from his linen button-down. You then push your hands under the lapels of his blazer jacket, pushing it off his shoulders and onto the floor. He holds your gaze, his normally earthy-hued eyes dilated almost totally black.
You lean on your tiptoes, and Jack closes his eyes, expecting a kiss. Instead, you move your lips to his ear and whisper one word.
"Upstairs." It's not a request, it's a demand, and Agent Daniels looks like you'd just given him whiplash. Gawking at you, it takes him a minute to register precisely what you were telling him. He blinks in an attempt to shake himself from his bewilderment.
"Yes, Ma'am..." He finally responds, in somewhat of a daze, as he makes his way up the stairs. You knew your plan would catch him off guard, but his reaction had been priceless! He glances over his shoulder, ensuring you're following behind before he makes it up the stairs.
"Go sit on the bed," you command him. He does exactly as he's told with no argument, a rare occurrence for Jack, who could never seem to keep his smug and blustering mouth shut. You put it down to him being so shocked by your little surprise that he couldn't form a sentence. He sits pretty on the bed, palms awkwardly placed on his thighs as he watches you. He's not used to you taking control. You were always the one to do as you were told.
"Wrists together," You adjure. He does that, too, eyebrow arched slightly.
"Sugar, what are you up t-" You just give him a look, one that silently orders him to shut up. He presses his lips into a thin line, not saying anything more as you loop his lasso around his wrists. His eyes follow your movements, glad to see that you had, in fact, picked up a standard rope rather than his spare Statesman weapons.
You knot the rope tightly, pulling at his forearms to ensure he can't break free from his binds. The agent arches his brow in yet another querying gaze, and you respond by simply putting your palm to his chest, pushing him backwards so his back hits the bed and knocking his hat off in the process. You smirk at his obvious shock, trying to wiggle from his bonds.
"You gonna ride your cowboy?" He teases you, but finds himself speechless once again as you move onto your hands and knees, crawling up the bed until you're straddling his hips. He hadn't expected you to actually do it! You take his chin roughly in your hand, forcing him to look you in the eye.
"I don't like sharing you, Jack," you whisper. You're turned on by the level of power you now hold over him, and he can hear it in your voice, see it in your dilated eyes. He stumbles over his words, and you feel his cock stir in his jeans.
"Darlin', I was just doin' my job," he finally splutters as you pull open his button-down shirt, the clattering of those buttons hitting the floor making his eyes wide in utter shock. You smirk at his expression, noting the way his adam's-apple bobs. Have you made him nervous?
"You were," you agree, musing as you trail the tip of your index finger down from between his collarbones, tracing his sternum and finally slowing when you reached his belt, "But that doesn't mean I like it, Whiskey." His eyes flick to your hand, now in the process of unbuckling his belt. He's once again uncharacteristically bereft of speech, utterly dumbstruck.
"I need to remind you who you belong to, Jack." Your honeyed tone has his hands curling into fists in their confines. You've never been like this with him; it's such a pleasant surprise. You slip his belt out of the loops of his jeans and unbutton them in quick succession.
You shuck his jeans from his hips, taking his boxers with them. His breath hitches in surprise, muscles tense and assuming you would take him into your mouth. He closes his eyes slowly, tilting his head back into the pillows as he waits to feel your lips around his already throbbing cock- so when he feels the pressure of your weight on the mattress shift away from him, he snaps his eyes open in confusion, looking to see where those lips had gone.
He finds you leaning over the end of the bed, searching in the bedside cabinet for something.
"Whatcha up to, BabyGirl?" He queries, eyes following your hand as you dig around. A self-satisfied smirk stretches across your lips as you find what you are looking for. You feel Whiskey stiffen at the sight of the pink bullet vibrator in your hand. You had been sure to charge it fully when Jack left a few days ago, and it had sat in the cabinet waiting to be used.
"I'm going to teach you a lesson, Mr Daniels," you hum, holding the button down until it starts buzzing in your hand. You can see Jack begin to panic a little, realising how much control you have over the situation.
"What d'ya mean, a les-" Jack breaks off into a broken moan as you place the vibrator against the head of his leaking cock. It's red and angry already, throbbing with the intensity of the vibrations. He pushes his hips backwards into the bed in a futile attempt to escape the torture you inflict upon him, giving him a delicious arch in his back that has the crown of his head pushing back into the pillows.��
"F-Fuck!" He chokes out as you trace the vibrator down his dick achingly slow. His entire body shudders at the warmth that spreads like tendrils in his lower abdomen. You smirk, watching his composure melt away.
"What is it, Jack? You speechless? I highly doubt that," you mock him, enjoying this display of dominance over your egocentric lover. But, funnily enough, he is indeed speechless. His moans had caught in his throat, arching his back further as you ran the tip of the vibrator over his balls before making its way back up to the end of his throbbing cock.
"You know I won't share you anymore, right?" You coo, watching as he tries to struggle against the lasso's bindings. It's fruitless, you both know, but his mind is so hazy with desire that he just can't think straight. He just nods desperately in response to your question, trying to form words.
"Fuck- I'm-" He chokes out another strangled groan as you circle the tip of his head, making his hips sloppily buck upwards into thin air, "I'm sorry."
You have to swallow your own moans; Jack wholly lost in this hedonism causing a subtle warmth to settle in your lower tummy. He convulses with a gasp as you lean forward, collecting the precum on the tip of his dick on your tongue. "Nghhh fuck!"
You can feel his thick thighs trembling already, and he starts babbling mindless garbage as he hurtles closer and closer to his climax.
"I wo-won't touch anyone again! Fuck-! Fuck Champ, fuck those st- shit!" He gasps out, body jerking as you trace his balls with your tongue, "fuck those stupid trackers!" You smirk, noting the deterioration in his self-control.
"You gonna only touch me, Agent Whiskey? Fuck me when you come back from your missions instead?" You murmur before brushing your tongue from base to tip. He shudders, barely able to hold it together.
"F-Fuck Darlin', I-I'm gonna-" He's cut off by a desperate and uncharacteristic wail as you pull away from him altogether, the vibrator still buzzing in your hand. Jack looks wounded, balls drawn up tight, and a pained expression cast across his face. You just give him a flirty smirk, eyebrow arched.
"Answer the question, Agent," You purr, watching his eyes roll back slightly into his skull. He seems to take a few shaky breaths, deep enough that you can see his ribcage expand on the inhale. You assume he's trying to gather his thoughts, so you press the vibrator's button again, turning it up to a higher setting before pushing it to the tip of his cock again.
If he hadn't had his arms tied in front of him, Jack practically would have folded in half with the way the upper half of his body jumped up from the bed. His whine is almost pained, knuckles white with the fists he'd made.
"I'm waiting," you drawl as he grits his teeth, trying to combine words into something like a sentence.
"I- Jesus!" He growls out, forcing his words out in that deep vibrato that sends chills up your spine, "I promise!" You coo gently, running the vibrator up and down the shaft of his angry red, veiny cock at a brutally slow pace. He's so close to cumming; you can see it in the way his abdomen muscles tense and his cock bobs.
"Good. You're mine. No one else's," You clarify, pressing the button to its highest setting and watching as Jack threw his head back with a ragged gasp as he came. Hard.
Ropes of cum coat his stomach and chest, dribbling down onto your fingertips as he bucks his hips into thin air again. The customarily composed Jack can barely breathe, coming undone at the eviscerating orgasm ripping through him. The moan that once again caught in his throat slips into something akin to a whine, all the muscles in his body tight and cramped.
As he finally comes down from his blinding high, Jack pants heavily, trying to stop the dizzying feeling in his head from the inability to inhale for a solid minute. Not ready to stop playing with this sexy, confident alter ego, you dip your fingers in the cum on his stomach, lifting them to your lips and tracing your tongue over it, moaning at the salty taste.
"Fuck, Sugar..." Jack pants, struggling against his binds again, "Let me out of these so I can kiss you." But much to his surprise, you don't answer him. Instead, you just shimmy your way up his body. He blinks, still in a daze.
"Darlin'-" He begins to question, but you just press your index finger to his lips as you straddle his pelvis, smirking.
"I'm not done with you yet. I still need to ride my cowboy."
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