#agent whiskey x plus size reader

[ninebluehearts]

agent whiskey would go WILD for a chubby/plus size gf pLEEAAAASEEEE tell me im not the only one who thinks that

Anon, this made me go feral- you're definitely not the only one, my love!! All bodies are beautiful, but let's be honest. Everyone has a preference. And Whiskey? Oh, you know he likes his women THICC 💅

Idk if this is an ask or just a shared opinion, but I'm making hcs- Idc loves 💗😩

(MDNI 💀😉)

Listen, Kingsmen missions can be lengthy and tiring. The man travels around whipping people's ass's all day. Literally. So, he loves coming home to you sitting on the couch, legs open and blanket waiting for him. He always plops down on the cushion next to you and dramatically falls into your open arms and legs, rubbing his head against your belly as his hands slide under your thighs to hold you as close as possible. "Missed you, sugar.. Gosh, couldn't sleep a wink all week without my favorite pillow." He'd mumble, already half asleep. You'd roll your eyes with a smile on your face, draping a blanket over him as he drifted off to sleep.

Summer is Jack's favorite season purely because you always wear those cute little sun dresses that hugged your curves perfectly. He was especially fond of this one little black dress you owned that had mini purple flowers all over and a built-in corset. You liked to tighten it more in the middle to accentuate your natural hourglass frame, which made Jack give you constant hugs from behind, obsessed with the way his hands fit along the dip of your waist and flared as they ran over your hips.

Listen, face riding was something you and Jack both thoroughly enjoyed, but it always made you super nervous no matter how many times Jack tried to tell you that he was more than willing to suffocate for your pleasure- Once, as you were about to gently lower your yourself onto his face, Jack hollered out, "Tell my mama I died a happy man!" and then wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you down onto his face without hesitation...

People are assholes; there isn't anything anyone can really do about it. You know this and so does Jack. That doesn't stop him from teaching them to mind their manners when they make a snarky remark about your weight- After all, manners maketh man.

#jack daniels x reader #jack Daniels #agent whiskey x plus size reader #jack daniels x plus size reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey fanfiction #agent whiskey #kingsmen golden circle fanficton #Pedro Pascal #💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙thoughts #thanks for the ask! #agent whiskey head cannons #Jack Daniels head cannons

[nerdieforpedro]

Whip it out Whiskey

Jack Daniels/Agent Whiskey x plus size female reader

Fanfiction 18+ MDNI

Masterlist

Agent Whiskey & Jack Daniels Masterlist

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Your life with Jack Daniels has been quite a journey and you've been by his side for all the twists and turns. Your cowboy has another surprise in store for you, are you gonna hop on?

Warnings: Established relationship, unprotected P in V (stay safe everyone!), semi-public sex, impact play, biting, aftercare

Notes: Horny hours for Casa de Nerdie are between 10:30pm - 5am. It was just going to be the first few paragraphs but then I thought more on Whiskey and horses. I also re-read @morallyinept post on different Pedro characters kinks. I highly recommend it. This is for the moodboard challenge lead by @iamasaddie ✏️ Thank you to @ramblers-let's-get-ramblin and Mrs. Daniels @ladybess-a03 for beta-ing for me.

Large hands lifted the hem of your sundress as you washed dishes in the kitchen. A slow drawl in your ear, “Hey Darlin’. How’s my sweet wife?” His mustache tickles your neck as he kisses it gently, your hand reaches back and runs through his trim chocolate brown hair. His hips sway with yours but for a moment as a zipper is heard and his buckle jingles. Your palms are placed on opposite sides of the sink and he lines his wet heat with yours. “Look at ya, did like I asked and didn’t wear any panties. You’re so good to me.” He coos before pushing inside of you, he waits a moment. Always before starting to revel in just being inside of you. His hands found their way back to your hips and began, not bothering with beginning slow and went with a faster thrust. 

You leaned your torso forward to stick your ass back towards him, now able to pump himself deeper into your wet cunt. Your moans increase the faster he goes and the two fingers he often uses to stir your core while cuddling on the couch find their way into your mouth, pressing on your tongue. It only dampens your sounds for a short time, his other hand lifts up your right leg and he nearly bends you over into the sink as he keeps bottoming out inside of you. He doesn’t speak, only grunting now as he’s close, you feel him throbbing, your lips wrapping his fingers and coating them in your saliva. Your cunt quivers from the dual stimulation, your thighs coated with arousal and soon your husband’s spend after he climaxes. His fingers slip from your mouth and his forehead rests on your shoulder, panting while you lean over the sink, barely standing still as he pulls out of you slowly. Turning slowly and cupping his face, you kiss his nose and smile. 

“Welcome home Jack.”

The rest of the week was spent cuddling, cooking, taking care of chores on the ranch and indulging in each other’s bodies. Jack reminded you as he had the last few months to not go to his workshop. You’d normally straighten it up and refill the water and beer in the fridge, but he wouldn’t even allow that. It was odd, but in your marriage, Jack’s never given you reason to suspect him of doing anything harmful, so you’d kept to your word and not gone in.

He left for another two week trip, to his brewery to check on things, but he’d be back in for a special surprise he’d said. The last time Jack Daniels told you that, he used the handle of his whip on your clit while he fucked you in the stables. 

Jack had made it clear early on in your relationship that he had particular tastes. He enjoyed your large thighs and stomach that he could lay his head on at night and bury himself in to soak his mustache. He also appreciated that you knew when to ask questions and left some things dormant until he’d mention them again. Jack also enjoyed his whips. When he first brought you over to his ranch two months in, he made sure to show his office to you where he had the majority of them. You were skeptical, but open to their use. He started slow with increased frequencies of when he spanked you and added a crop. The crop you giggled at because it was pink like his cock and that made him use it a little extra to form some additional marks on your ass. 

Three months ago, when he started utilizing the whip, you were nervous, but he talked you through it. Telling you how good you were doing and how beautiful you looked with your marks, soon when he would crack his whip, you'd start to moisten. Whatever was in his workshop did worry you, because what could it be? You’d gone down a google rabbit hole and looked at the restraints. That might be a hard line for you. 

A call came in from Jack.

“Darlin’ I’m gonna be back in two days and we’ll enjoy the surprise together. You haven’t gone to my workshop have you?”

“No honey I haven’t. It just…It isn’t something to tie me up or anything right? I don’t think I can do that Jack.”

“Oh sweetheart, no. Nothin’ like that. You’ll like it, I promise. I love you.”

“Okay, I trust you jack. I love you too.”

Even after the call, you wondered what was in that damn workshop, but you promised. He also asked you to wear some particular attire. You had half of it and the other half came in two parts which you were able to track down before he came home. 

On Jack’s day of arrival, he gave you a time to be ready by and to wait. As Mrs. Daniels, you’re aware that Jack can run late, and it was already an hour after he said to be. Turns out it was a good choice, because he came home twenty minutes after that so you wouldn’t be too cold. After all, you’re only wearing a black garter belt with matching black stockings and cowboy nipple pasties that barely cover your areolas. The strangest thing was that Jack had told you to wait in the bedroom with the door closed. He usually liked to watch you and take your form in while he took up the entire door frame. You heard some scratching of the floor like he was dragging something, his boots being removed and his belt, then nothing. The anticipation was getting to you as you tapped your feet on the hardwood floor of your bedroom. Jack’s steps were heard coming toward the bedroom. He stood in the doorway naked, cock hardening as he gazed at you with whip in hand. He cracked the whip once and your thighs pressed together, is he going to start now?

“Darlin, look at you looking pretty for me. Damn you’re sexy woman. Come out into the living room with me. I gotta show you.” Whiskey grinned, he extended his hand and you stood to walk toward it, taking hold of it as you walked with him into the living room. 

You weren’t sure what you were looking at. Rather, you weren’t sure how exactly both of you were supposed to use it. Whiskey noted the look on your face but his grin never left his face. “Jack….how… this is what was in the workshop?” You asked, never taking your eyes off it. You saw how you might get on it, but was curious how it would benefit the two of you. “I’m not understanding…Is it safe?” You walked around it once, looking at it from all angles. Jack appeared to be amused.

“I built it myself, carved it and sanded it Darlin’. You’ll be safe. You’re always safe with me.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and kissed your cheek, lessening your fears somewhat. You’d always been willing to try for Jack, what was one more thing? Taking a deep breath, you stepped closer to the wooden piece. “My adventurous wife. You always spoil me sweetheart.”

Before you was a wooden horse that Jack had carved, it had some modifications though. There were two indents with pillows attached for you to set your knees after you got on it. The horse’s neck was at a forty-five degree angle so you could lean on it and under the horse's chin, there were two handles for you to hold onto. The back of the horse where you would be sitting had a space that dipped directly below your core and ass so that there was space between the wood and your body. Once you were on and felt comfortable, you nodded and told Jack you were ready. His whip cracked behind you with excitement as you felt the rush of air behind your back. “Hot damn you look like a dream perched up there Darlin’!” Your husband yelled and ran his hands up and down your arms and licked your shoulder, nibbling on it. Wiggling on the horse, your grip slacked a bit to lean back into his embrace, but he pushed you forward gently. “Don’t let go, you’re going to need to hold on. I’m gonna start.” 

The next crack was to the same spot on your shoulder where he had just bit you. You never felt it at first, Jack knew to wait to see a mark start to form and the delicious sting would spread across the area. The cowboy made two more marks in quick succession, one for each shoulder blade, those made you shift your hips forward bucking against the air between the horse and your core. You looked back at Jack, licking your lips to signal that more was alright, but he folded his whip and slid behind you, pressing his dripping heat against your ass, sliding it under you so it rubbed along your folds. “Now look here Darlin’,” Jack’s free hand cupped your breast as he packed your lips, “you know you gotta give me words now.” His hips slowly grinded in place as you tried to push yours back to have more friction. He pulled back and waved his finger to mean ‘no, not yet.’ When you finally told him he could continue, he let two more cracks fly, this time across your right thigh, ripping the stocking you had on. The smile on his face told you that’s what he wanted to see it rip. Taking three steps to his left, he did the same to your left thigh and followed with one whiplash to each cheek of your ass. 

The sharp cries that came from you fueled Jack to give you just two more, one on each hip. He wanted to stop the throbbing he was feeling, bury himself in your pussy and drill you into the mattress, but not yet. Whiskey made a quick trip to the bedroom, laying out a cooling blanket on the bed and grabbing the tube of aloe. Despite what he wanted he knew that the only reason you agreed to do any of this, was that you trusted him. You trusted Jack Daniels to take care of you when sick, sad, or after another round of whip play. When he returned, you’d been able to get one leg down, but not the other. You were dangling awkwardly off the horse and he snickered making his way over to help you down. Jack supported your upper body as you wiggled your leg out and you pinched his soft stomach.

“Sorry Darlin’ you looked so cute hangin’ in there.” He continued to chuckle as he circled his two fingers for you to turn to face the horse and lean on it. 

“Alright Jack, just stop laughing. That wasn’t funny.” Damn Jack always made you laugh even if it was at your expense, your giggles became hums as he applied the cool aloe to your shoulder first, then worked his way down your bilateral arms. Daniels applied more directly to your skin and spread it across your back, pressing into your skin shoulder blades. “Press deeper into my skin honey.” You requested, you didn’t see his eyebrow arch upward but he added more aloe to his fingers and pressed them into your right thigh, making your press against the horse more with a moan. As he rubbed, his fingers slipped under the black stocking and ripped it more, removing it completely. He did the same with your left thigh as his nose ran down your spine. You whined his name while he squeezed the last of the aloe out of the tube and rubbed his hands together. Placing one large hand on each of your buttocks, he palmed slow circles as he stood back up and left love bites on the back of your neck. 

“How do you feel Darlin’?” Whiskey asked, his tongue flicking your earlobe as he spoke. You reached behind, your hand finding his hard length. He released a deep groan, starting to suck on your ear.

“I feel like I want you buried inside me love. Don’t make me wait anymore.” Jack took a step back as you released him from your light grip and he followed you to the bedroom. He expected you to get on all fours since your back was still pretty raw. The aloe calmed it, but he knew it still hurt. Instead, when you climbed on the bed, you flipped over on your back onto the cooling blanket and held out your arms for him to come to you. “Come on Jack, I’m seeing your face as you come inside.” He hesitated, normally, you asked him to use his tongue and fingers to make you climax before he entered you. Frowning, you opened your legs and put yourself on display for your husband. Despite being married, it was a little embarrassing, but you wanted him to know how much you wanted him right now. 

Jack relished times like these when you were especially direct about what you wanted from him. His face lit up like you’d told him he was getting another 1970 Ford Bronco. The bed dipped under his weight as he climbed on it and covered your body with his. Hands roamed your body, squeezing you everywhere he could as he shifted between your legs and had his cock sliding against your entrance again. His lips claimed yours, as your hands grabbed his shoulders pulling him closer. He broke the kiss along enough to whispered, “You’re too fuckin’ good to me sweetheart.” Jack’s tip slipped inside of you when he moved to kiss you again, you closed your legs and wrapped them around his waist so he couldn’t pull out. “You’re a wiley vixen Darlin’,” he grinned into another kiss with you before moving his hands finally to your hips. He still didn't move until you pressed your nails into his skin, letting him know you’d go deeper if he kept that up. 

In contrast to when he came to you around the house and outside on the ranch, he began slowly, ensuring you felt every ridge, vein and thrust. He had to make it count, he’s been so close to covering your drenched mound with his climax. The sharp mewls from your puffy lips spurred him to move faster, he was trying to resist his own high while his hips became flush with yours with each drag and slide. Your nails were digging into his skin as you held onto Jack as tight as you could, your walls starting to quiver to try and catch his dick and keep it inside of you. Lifting your hips repeatedly had your husband simultaneously calling your name and cursing that you’ll be the death of him. “Give it to me Jack, I know you’re holding out. You don’t need to.” At your words, the cowboy knew he couldn’t resist and thick ropes of his come coated yout walls, his thrusts slowed significantly as he churned his seed inside of your cunt. The overwhelming fullness enabled your climax where your core clamped down on his cock that was still within you. “Stir me more Jack, don’t take it out yet.” You whined as Jack remained within you during your high as well. 

When both orgasms passed, Jack carefully slid out of you as your body was now limp. You tried to move, but he gently set your raised hand down as he made his way to the bathroom, cleaned himself up and came back with one washcloth and one towel. The warm cloth was welcome to your skin as he wiped off your sweat and then used the towel to dry you off. He then asked you to move your legs, once he was sure you wouldn't topple over with him supporting you, off to the bathroom you went as well. 

Once he got you back in bed, he said he was going to clean up the living room, but you told him that could wait until tomorrow morning. “Please stay with me. The bed’s lonely without you Jack.” With you asking like that, how could he say no? Jack slipped under the covers with you and wrapped his arms around you, cradling your head on his chest.

“Of course Darlin’. Anything you want.”

Riders of Jack's horse and whips: 🤠🐴 @megamindsecretlair @i-own-loki @pamasaur @maggiemayhemnj @rhoorl @guelyury @daddy-dins-girl @gwendibleywrites @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @musings-of-a-rose @magpiepills @wannab-urs @drawingdroid @sin-djarin @legendary-pink-dot @beefrobeefcal @goodwithcheese @trulybetty @perotovar @pedroshotwifey @pascalsanctuary @fhatbhabie @pedritapascal @theywhowriteandknowthings @clawdee @missladym1981 @alltheglitterandtheroar @yorksgirl @intoanotherworld23 @titlee78 @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @sp00kymulderr @ilovepedro

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #jack daniels #jack daniels x plus size reader #kingsman the golden circle #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x plus size reader #A Nerdie fic

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Can I request a fem reader x jack Daniels from the golden circle, where maybe they are dating for a while but agent whiskey wants to keep it quiet, cause he doesn't want them to get fired from being in a relationship together, but then there is a party and he sees another agent flirting with reader and gets jealous and just goes up to her, kiss her and admits in front of everyone that he loves her

.⋆｡Jack And Coke｡⋆.

Jack Daniels x plus size reader

Hiding your relationship from your employers was a good idea in theory but when a suave English agent begins chatting you up, your partner is definitely not happy

Warnings: secret relationship, jealousy, drinking, vague mentions of danger, no use of y/n, fluff, implied smut, reader is a handler like Ginger-Ale

WC: 595

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

The burning fury in the southern man was stoked by the expensive whiskey he was sipping on. His brown eyes fixated on the couple only a few yards away from him. The English agent was very clearly flirting with you and you, being your usual friendly self, were indulging him (not that you had any clue what his true intentions were).

Jack knew he had only himself to blame for this whole situation, he was the one that insisted on keeping your relationship a secret, for a time at least. Not only would you both not have to deal with the bullshit paperwork you would have to fill out but it would allow you to remain his personal handler. And for the more selfish reason that he wanted to keep you safe. If any of his enemies knew that you and him were an item or even if they knew you existed- you would be in danger and he couldn’t live with himself if you got hurt.

But watching you now as you were dressed to kill in a navy dress that so beautifully framed your soft body while another (younger) man flirted with you, Jack was second guessing all his decisions up to this point. “She’s looking damn gorgeous ain’t she?” He was shaken from his thoughts as the Statesmen boss saddled up to the bar next to him.

“Don’t know what yer talkin about.” Jack grumbled, singling for a refill of his drink. Champ raised a brow at his agent, his thin lips downturning. 

“I may be an old man now but I know the look of love when I see it and you aren’t as slick as ya think you are. I also think you forget that the hallways have cameras and microphones.” He smirked, making Jack choke on his drink. He turned to retort but a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.

Gallahead was now mere inches from you, his left hand hovering over your wide hip, just waiting for permission to touch. Jack’s vision went red.

The music and the chatter went quiet as he slammed the tumbler of whiskey down, causing the glass to shatter. All eyes turned to him, surprised at the sudden outburst by the normally cool and collected agent. They expected him to smile and play it off as an accident but instead he pushed himself from the bar and barrelled his way through the crowd, his gaze firmly locked on you.

Your own eyes were wide but not with terror, in fact they got darker as he approached, making Jack internally beam with pride. He said nothing as a strong arm wound around your thick hips and he tugged you away from Eggsy and into his side. He glared at the younger man and before anyone could speak, he cupped your full cheek and kissed you.

You squeaked against his lips before sighing and relaxing into it, one of your hands coming up to rest right above his pounding heart. He gave your bottom lip a quick nip then pulled away. “I suggest ya keep your hands to yourself, specially when it comes to my gal.” He glared at Eggsy who seemed, for once, at a loss of words.

Considering the matter dealt with, Jack turned back to you with a sly grin. “Now darlin why don’t we blow this party and you can show your cowboy a good time?” He led you from the bar, not noticing Tequila and Champ exchanging a sizable amount of bills over their drinks.

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[wardenparker]

New Year's Surprise

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

______

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

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

[anabdaniels]

How much does devotion weigh?

Paring: chubby!Agent Whiskey x Plus size female reader

Summary: Your thoughts about your husband's appearance end up on a good morning sex or Jack became chubby after retiring from Statesman and reader is obsessed with it.

Word counting: 1.5k

Rating: +18

Warnings: Fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, body worship (if you squint), retired chubby Jack (c'mon, it's too lovely to not be warned).

A/N: So, we all saw the Eddington BTS pics and we're collectively deceased. Not surprisingly, while everyone was like "OMG that's Javi" my Daniels-obsessed brain could only scream "THAT'S JACK AFTER RETIRE FROM STATESMAN AND GET HIS RANCH" so here we are.

Divider from: @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

You sighed as your husband’s breath tickled your nape, his warm chest pressed against your bare back. You’ve been awake for a good time, but with no intention to go anywhere, after all, you had no reason to do such a thing, nothing could compete with spending a cold morning snuggling in the comfortable arms of your cowboy.

Being that quiet and comfortable, your brain started to make you think way too much; you hated every minute of the period of your relationship you had to deal with Jack disappearing in whatever place Statesman needed him to, letting you completely clueless about when you would talk to him again, how long would take for him to come back home or even if he really would come back. Now that all those agonizing days were just a memory of a distant past, you sure still hated Statesman for having kept your man away from you all those times, but at that very moment, being so well snuggled in his arms, you surely would never forgive Statesman for have kept his comfortable shape away from your hands for so long.

Yes, even during his more fit period, Jack had that soft stomach you always went feral for, but since his retirement, he had converted to your real-life-sized teddy bear. His arms still were strong and muscular, which couldn’t be different with the amount of manual work he did daily around the ranch, but now they were chubbier and softer, like the rest of him. You couldn’t be more grateful for his taste in jeans, because, if those vacuum-packed pairs looked good before, now that they had to be a size bigger because Jack’s thighs, hips, and ass had grown, you were doing no better than a man when it came to having your eyes glued on his rear back while he did anything.

You smiled when you felt Jack moving on the bed, leaning his head forward and kissing your shoulder lazily as he woke up, tightening his embrace around you, which was more than enough to set fire to your whole body. You turned on the bed to face him, smiling at how handsome Jack could look with his eyes half-lidded and his recently awake lazy face; his estimated mustache, millimetrically trimmed as always, looked good like never on his now slightly rounded face. Without second thoughts, you leaned your hands on his cheeks, gently squeezing them while tucking yourself even more against Jack, hanging one of your legs around his hip.

“Are we well woke up, hum?” Jack teased and leaned to nibble your chin while moving one hand up and down your back, causing you to shiver all over since being a full-time ranch owner had made his hands rougher over time.

“Can you blame me for it? You have no idea how hard it is to wake up with such a hot thing on my bed every day.” You said completely shamelessly, moving one of your hands down his chest, sighing audibly with the merle feeling of his soft form under your palm.

“And here I was, thinking I should start to workout again.” He retorted with a chuckle.

“You wouldn’t dare.” You answered more quickly and worried than you planned to, but it was a genuine reaction. You felt your libido getting wilder at every pound he gained over time, you couldn’t bear the idea of him losing them.

“Wasn’t you that said that I was crazy for not being happy every time you planned to do some unnecessary diet?” he raised one eyebrow with a cocky smirk.

“Fine, I may have understood what you meant when you said that a couple of pounds more wouldn’t hurt anyone.” You admitted with a playful smile, unconsciously squeezing his soft stomach.

“Then is a no for the workout?” Jack questioned teasingly, pressing your body against his.

“Is a definitely obviously explicit unnegotiable no, Daniels.” You said emphatically, melting a bit with the feeling of his body glued on yours and leaning forward to kiss him.

Jack moved one hand up your back, sinking his fingers in your hair and pulling it softly as his other arm kept firmly rounding your waist. A popsicle in the sun would be more undamaged than you at that moment. You weren’t even consciously moving your hands while they groped every inch of Jack’s torso you could reach, especially when you squeezed his soft love handle; you never understood all the times Jack said how much he loved to grab your soft curves, especially your rounded stomach and abundant love handles, but now you were comprehending everything. You always saw a bit of weight gain as the end of the world when it was with you, but at moment Jack gained the first couple of pounds, you were about to climb up the walls wanting to grab every part of him.

And Jack was completely aware of that. He never doubted that you were deeply attracted to him, but when he realized that your libido seemed to magically have increased at the same pace that he became thicker, it felt like a breath of fresh air. Aside from his cocky and full-of-himself manner, for a moment Jack wondered if you would be okay with the body changes the retirement brought and couldn’t be more relieved with your little obsession towards his new form.

Having you so needy and melted between his arms, Jack couldn’t do more than move further, letting go of your waist to sneak one hand between your legs, smirking as he felt you already wet and pulsing on his fingers. With no flourishes, he started to rub your throbbing clit, taking a squeaky whimper from you as your nails sank into his chubby waist. Unable to hold his huge need, Jack slid inside you, smiling against your lips as you moaned and pulled him with your leg, getting even more turned on by the soothing feeling of his soft stomach pressing against yours.

Despite being drunk on pleasure you managed to open your eyes while resting your forehead on his, your hands still caressing and squeezing all over him as much as it was possible. Got on the moment as much as you, Jack grabbed your thick thigh that was on top of him, pulling you closer as he rolled slightly to the side, getting half on top of you and letting his body weight partially over yours, that being enough to send you to heaven; you always loved how you felt small under him, which gained a boost with his extra weight.

With one elbow resting on the mattress, Jack leaned to kiss you again, keeping his hold on your thigh as he intensively fucked you; the increasing of your libido had thrown his sex drive at the height too, especially after got rid of all his stress of working for Statesman.

You hung both of your arms around his neck as you melted under Jack, tightening your leg around his hip as that knot started to build on your lower stomach. Conscious of the effects he had on you, Jack slightly leaned his head back, letting go of your thigh and grabbing your jaw, staring deep into your eyes as he made sure to let his upper body brush against yours, causing you to whimper and contort, unwrapping your arms from his neck just to touch his shoulders and biceps, aware that you could cry if you thought too much about how handsome he was and how lucky you were for being married to him.

As your eyes started to roll back on their orbits and your eyelids fell closed, you felt Jack letting go of your jaw to move his hand between your legs but he didn’t get the chance to make it, once you fell apart on an orgasm even before his fingers reached the level of your stomach. You whined and sank your face into the curve of his neck, feeling your senses cloudy and your cunt pulsing around his cock. With a soothing caress on your nape, Jack kissed the top of your head, letting his face rest there and groaning quietly against your hair as he filled you up.

After a moment, Jack rested by your side, letting an arm around your torso and one leg between yours. You turned your head lazily to look at him when his fingers caressed your waist, smiling when you found him looking at you.

“Can I ask you something?” you whispered and he promptly nodded “Do you have any unavoidable plan for today?”

“Not actually.” Jack answered with a soft frown, curious about what you had in mind.

“Very good.” You said while tucking yourself against his chest “Because I have no intention of letting you get out of this bed so soon.”

Just casually tagging some besties that might be interested on this (and to say hi after I disappeared for weeks): @missladym1981 @tuquoquebrute @iloveenya @sevillagrenada @pedroshotwifey

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey fic #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels #jack whiskey daniels #Kingsman: the golden circle #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories

[lionlena]

☆MASTERLIST☆

Pedro Pascal

One Shot:

♡A kitchen disaster

♡Just let it go…

♡New job, new problems...

♡Just breathe

Series:

♡His Curls - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (completed)

♡Hate run, love speed - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (in progress)

♡We don’t love each other - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 - Final (completed)

Request:

♡A perfect day for a perfect girl (It's your birthday and Pedro makes you feel loved and special all day)

Headcanon:

♡What sleeping position do they most like when you are with them? (Pedro Pascal characters)💤

♡How will they react to your makeup? (Pedro Pascal and his characters) 👁️👄💅

♡Headcanon: How do they behave when you have a migraine? (Pedro Pascal characters)🩹😴   (+ Dave and Marcus)

♡Headcanon: How will they react if you tell them about CDD? (Pedro Pascal characters) 👰💔😱🤕  

♡Headcanon: Who will be ready to kill for you? From most willing to least... (Pedro Pascal characters) 🔪💀☠️🩸

♡Headcanon: How do they cook for you? (Pedro Pascal characters) 🥕🧑‍🍳🍓

Joel Miller

One Shot:

♡This is just a nightmare… (The Last of Us ff/ Joel/Ellie)

♡Strong for both of us

♡Trouble with ex

♡Dyeing your hair…

Series:

♡Unforgivable mistake, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12 (in progress)

♡I can't be everywhere (No outbreak!) Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4... (in progress)

Request:

♡You need a better place (Joel loving a girl with epilepsy)

♡Blue dress (Joel Miller x plus size!reader)

Headcanon:

♡When Joel goes limp… (JoelMillerxf!reader)🤷🍆🩹

Javier Peña

One Shot:

♡I’ll protect you… (bc you’re mine)

♡I’ll hurt you… ( bc you’re mine )

♡I’ll leave you (bc youre not mine)

♡I'll stay with you... ( bc I love you)

♡You’re hot…

♡A girl from the street

Series:

♡Dancing With Your Ghost - Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Epilogue (completed)

♡Too many shadows behind you - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3,  Part 4, Part 5 (in progress)

Headcanon:

♡Nicotine (JavierPeña and You)

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels)

Series:

♡Dynasty - Part 1, Part 2, (in progress)

One Shot:

♡Mean (JackDanielsxf!reader)

Javi Gutierrez

One Shot:

♡Too hot

Frankie Morales

One Shot:

♡Lost cat

Marcus Pike

One Shot: 

♡"7.44 am"

Oberyn Martell

Series:

♡Red Viper and Fox - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (in progress, soon english version)

One Shot:

♡♕Queen's Milk

♡I Hold You

♡Remember me… (ANGST!)

The Old Guard (movie)

One Shot: 

♡ Amira

♡ It hurts like hell    

#masterlist #my fanfiction #my wriring #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #javier pena x reader #joel miller #narcos #the last of us #the game of thrones #oberyn martell #the old guard #Immortal husbands #joe and nicky #joel and ellie #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller and you #tlou fic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal characters #agent peña #agent whiskey #agent whiskey fanfiction #jack daniels fanfiction #jack daniels x reader #kingsman the golden circle #javi gutierrez #javi g x reader

[pascalpvnk]

december & january fic recs list

hello! welcome to the second installment of my end of the month(ish) fic recs posts :) listed in no particular order, just as each fic was read! [once again, if your fic has found a cozy home on my tbr blog, don't fret! i will work through each one slowly but surely xx (divider by @saradika-graphics)

important post regarding TLOU + Neil Druckmann’s Zionism!!

heed all warnings according to each fic. if there's something on here that isn't your cup of tea and you don't want to read it, then scroll past. thank you!

fic rec masterlist // main masterlist

a * denotes smut (18+ MDNI!!)

drabbles

untitled [joel cares for you when you're ill] - @undercoverpena (soft!joel miller x reader) snooze - @tightjeansjavi (joel miller x f!reader) untitled [first date arm appreciation] - @softlyspector (joel miller x f!reader)

oneshots

Joel Miller

sweet thing* - @honeyedmiller (jackson!joel x sunshine!f!reader) study days with joel* - @bearsbeetsbeskar (joel miller x f!reader) joel nye, the science guy* - @endlessthxxghts (joel miller x afab!reader) love shack - @pascalispretty (joel miller x gn!reader) do you like it here?* - @/endlessthxxghts (joel miller x afab!reader) a burning desire - @/honeyedmiller (firefighter!joel miller x f!reader) hiraeth* - @/honeyedmiller (dbf!joel miller x f!reader) ripe* - @hier--soir (preoutbreak!joel miller x f!reader) teacher's pet* - @javiscigarette (joel miller x virgin!f!reader) the way he was - @cavillscurls (joel miller x reader) a lesson in condom sense* - @joeloverture (dbf!joel miller x f!reader) softness - @joelsgreys (post outbreak!joel miller x f!reader) texas hold 'em* - @sweetercalypso (joel miller x f!reader) yellow bird* [from whiskey sour universe] - @kiwisbell (joel miller x f!reader) sick days with joel miller - @/bearsbeetsbeskar (joel miller x f!reader) caught the bug - @mrsmando (joel miller x f!reader) warm me up* - @/tightjeansjavi (game!joel miller x f!reader) your heart, a sonnet - @kedsandtubesocks (author!joel miller x f!reader) will you show me?* - @eupheme (no-outbreak!joel x f!reader, joel x reader x tess) untitled request [body insecurity comfort] - @forever-rogue (joel miller x f!reader) like nothing matters* - @sp00kymulderr (joel miller x afab!reader) yours and mine, mine and yours - @morallyinept (no-outbreak!joel miller x pregnant!afab!reader) untitled* [body worship] - @/softlyspector (joel miller x afab!reader)

Frankie Morales

sweet treat [part I // part II] - @/mrsmando (sweet!frankie morales x f!plus-size!reader) worship* - @/tightjeansjavi (frankie morales x f!reader) birthday girl* - @ilovepedro (frankie morales x plus-size!latina!f!reader) pickup truck* - @luxurychristmaspudding (frankie morales x f!reader) end up here* - @inthe-dark-tonight (frankie morales x f!reader) hungry* - @/endlessthxxghts (frankie morales x f!reader) stalemate* - @joelscurls (frankie morales x f!reader)

Javier Peña

use me* - @palioom (javier peña x f!reader) knead - @/tightjeansjavi (javier peña x f!reader) nights are so starry, blood moonlit* - @janaispunk (javier peña x f!reader)

Misc.

blue jean baby* - @fettuccin-e (agent whiskey x afab!fem!reader) peeta mellark: your loser boyfriend* - @zombatss (peeta mellark x afab!reader) more than friends* - @gracieheartspedro (best friend!ellie williams x f!reader) let me be needed* - @/luxurychristmaspudding (din djarin x f!sex worker!reader)

series

i know it when i see it* [part six*] - @bageldaddy (pornstar!joel miller x fem!reader) catfish* - @/tightjeansjavi (fisherman!frankie morales x bartender!reader) cherry thrill* [lights*] - @hellishjoel (tattoo artist!daddy dom!joel miller x virgin!sub!f!reader) the checklist* [hot & cold* // take my breath away* // what's in the bag*] - @thetriumphantpanda (joel miller x f!reader) your needs, my needs - @/gracieheartspedro (cowboy!joel miller x f!reader)

so sorry this is late :') i was having so many formatting issues lmao. thank you all for sharing your wonderful fics xx

#pascalpvnk fic recs #my talented moots <3 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

[metalnecklace]

There Was Heaven In Your Eyes

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (plus size)

Word Count: 647

Warnings: none in this chapter

Notes: Welcome to my new fic! This is my first time writing for Javi, I hope I can do him justice. I’ve been wanting to write a Pedro character for a while and absolutely loved him in Narcos, so I figured why not! I do have Spanish in here (with translations right after when I feel they’re needed), but I am just learning how to speak it. So if there’s anything that needs to be retranslated or adjusted please let me know! I will also be posting this on my AO3 under the same username.

Summary: Reader has left her home country suddenly, finding herself teaching in Bogotá. When she ends up becoming a nanny for the Escobar family she isn’t sure if it’s any better than her life before. A certain Agent seems determined to help her, but will she let him?

Javier Peña is in the thick of finding Pablo Escobar, but ends up finding someone else. Will he let her be the one to break down his walls?

Masterlist

Prologue

The night was sticky. There was no other way to describe it. It was the type of night where Javier’s skin was on fire as it came in contact with the rolling condensation on his glass of whiskey. The drink is his usual, taken dry unlike the air he took into his lungs as he reminded himself to just keep breathing.

Things had been getting tougher when it came to catching Escobar. Javi’s nights stretched longer until they were no longer moments laying wide awake and restless in bed, but were instead short breaks of sipping alcohol to soothe his nerves until he went back to it.

Steve still tried to go home, even if it meant he was just waiting by the phone in the hopes that Connie would show him grace. Even when Javi didn’t feel he deserved it. He had seen firsthand the way Steve had started to slip into the habits that Javi lived day to day. Hidden flasks, reaching for his gun instead of his reason. But at the end of the day Javi had to admit that Steve was still the better person, the bigger man.

Javi downed the last of his drink, no longer feeling the burn that he used to. He longed for it some days, wishing that he had something to ground him.

He scrubbed a hand down his face and let out a sigh from deep within his lungs. His finger itched for his pack of smokes when he felt the stretch in his lungs. With his back aching he leaned down and grabbed what he needed out of his jacket pocket and placed a cigarette between his lips, feeling more comfort as he brought the lighter to its destination than he had since his last smoke.

“You really gotta lay off those things,” Steve’s voice rumbled from behind Javi. “Gonna slow you down even more.”

Javi had jumped after hearing Steve, not expecting anybody in the office at that hour.

“Fuck you,” he retaliated, twisting to face the taller man who waltzed to the opposite desk. “What’re you doing here? Thought you went home?”

Steve sighed and buried his face in his hands once he sat down. “Connie called, told me to hurry up and do my job so I can come home.” He raised his head, causing Javi to notice the dark circles contouring his bloodshot eyes. Since when did Steve look so burnt out? Javi shuddered to think of how he looked these days. “I figured I might as well get back to it.”

Javi puffed on his cigarette and exhaled, following the smoke up to the lights before looking back at his partner.

“There’s not much going on here,” Javi started, “if you did wanna get back home.”

Steve shook his head and reached for some of the files on the brunettes desk. “Nah, not like I need to do much there, anyway.”

The two men worked in silence together. It was comfortable, with a certain tether of understanding that not many others in the DEA respected. Javi loved to push Steve’s buttons, but at the end of the day he had really come to love working with him.

Silence was broken when Steve suddenly stood and moved to Javi’s side in three strides. He put a folder down over top of the one Javi had been sorting through and pointed his finger at a name with a snap of skin against paper. The folder was containing names of people Pablo had helped get fake passports. Most had already been done away with, almost all Javi had heard of. All except for the name Steve’s finger pointed at.

“Javi, we found it! Someone we’ve overlooked.”

Javi narrowed his eyes before looking up at Steve. “Well? Who is it?”

Steve lowered his finger on the page to where it showed their occupation.

“The nanny.”

#javier pena #javier pena fic #javier pena x reader #narcos #plus size reader #Javier pena x plus size reader

[ninebluehearts]

Hi can I request a agent whiskey/ jack Daniel x plus!size reader. So the reader is an agent and is working with everyone that is trying to take down the drug cartel the reader is an agent and is a badass at doing her work so maybe she is in love with jack maybe one day they introduce a new agent to the team she is a girl she is thin blond with pretty blue eyes let’s just say all the guy’s welcome her and so does the reader the reader notices jack flirting with the new agent so when they have to do a small mission to get more information about the drug cartel they have to go under cover at a club and the reader has to flirt with the target the rest they just pair up into 2 teams so they are gonna be in the club make sure nothing goes wrong because their target has back up maybe theres a little fighting when the reader wears a dress she gets insecure because she sees the new girl and her dress and how it fits perfectly on her so maybe the new agent and jack had to play as a fake couple for the mission but what the reader doesn’t know is that jack is in love with the reader so maybe when they are fighting the reader gets stabbed in the leg when they get back she gets checked out jack wouldn’t leave the reader side and the doctor said she should be fine while in the infirmary the reader confesses her love for jack maybe it could end with them dating.(this might be to long uhh you could write it if you want it’s fine will if you don’t)

Sure thing, my love!! I'm so sorry this took so long!!

Warnings: Violence, blood, etc. (no smut)

-------------------------------------------------------

"You've gotta be kidding me.." You mumbled, staring at the group of men that were all huddled around the newest agent of Statesmen: Agent Malibu.

Malibu had honey blonde hair that practically glowed in the sunlight; the thick, wavy locks looked softer than a feather.

Which paired well with her deep, ocean blue eyes, the kind that you could swim in for hours, not even knowing you were drowning.

Even better, she had a perfect figure- she was thick where it mattered, like her thighs and hips, but her thin waist and long legs really completed the look.

It all made your stomach turn.

What made everything worse was that Agent Whiskey was in that crowd of men, supposedly 'welcoming her.'

Though you saw the grin he had- it was the same one he had given you when you first began working for Statesmen. Regrettably, you were engaged at the time, so you never did act on the obvious spark between you two.

Even when you broke things off with your ex, you never could find the right time- or gather enough courage- to ask him out. And now you were terrified that it was too late.

"I know! Isn't she perfect?" Your coworker, Agent Vodka, said, taking a long sip from his mug. "I don't know if I wanna fuck her or be her bestfriend."

You rolled your eyes, angerly placing your hands on your hips. "Aren't you gay? And married?"

"Me-ow, somebody's jealous." Vodka mumbled into his mug as he took another sip, quickly heading back towards his office to avoid your salty mood.

You shook your head, huffing out a sigh as you looked back at group of Agents. You managed to make eye contact with Whiskey, feeling the familiar burn in your cheeks when he smiled at you.

You gave him a small smile back, giggling when he tipped his hat at you. He always did stuff like that to make you laugh. No matter where you were or what you were doing, Whiskey always found a way to either make a silly face or flirt with you.

That's what made this all so confusing- the other agents were usually professional while working with you, so what made Whiskey different?

"Agent Amaretto!" Your boss, Agent Champagne, called out, motioning for you to come over to the group.

You hated suddenly having all of those eyes on you; especially hers.

You set your mug next to the coffee maker behind you, before awkwardly walking over to him, trying not to look at Malibu. "Yes sir?"

He motioned for the crowd of agents to get back to work, though Whiskey and Malibu stayed besides him. "Well, I assume you've met Agent Malibu?"

"Yes, sir."

"Wonderful! Well, the two of you will be accompanying Agent Whiskey on tonight's mission. Everything is already set up; Whiskey and Malibu, you'll be portraying Mr. and Mrs. Williams, a wealthy married couple from Spain. Amaretto, you'll be Mrs. Culpeper, a Russian widow. Everyone got it?" Champ asked, glancing between the three of you.

"Don't Whiskey and I usually play the married couple?" You tried to keep the attitude out of your tone, though you didn't think you were very successful considering the look that crossed Champ's face.

"Yes, but don't these two look better together? Look," Champ slung his arm around your shoulder, making you look at the 'couple.'

Your teeth grinded together, your nails digging into the palms of your hands as the green-eyed monster began to slip out of his facade.

"Ain't they just perfect together?" He asked, obviously proud of himself.

"You really think so?" Malibu asked, hugging Whiskey's arm as she looked up at him through her eyelashes; Whiskey winked at her in return, a sly smirk tugging on his lips.

"Well, I certainly have a lot to do to get ready then!" You pulled away from Champ before he could even notice that you were shaking with rage, your lips locked in a tight smile. "But do send me the files for tonight's mission."

And without another word, you quickly walked away from the group, holding your breath to keep the hot, salty tears at bay.

-

You spent the better part of your afternoon practicing a Russian accent and going over Mrs. Veronica Culpeper's profile, preparing for tonight's mission.

You reminded yourself to practice your breathing exercises, deciding to be an adult about the situation. You didn't have the right to be so possessive over Whiskey; you had your chance, and you blew it.

That's on you.

As you slipped on your short, silk black dress, you couldn't help but feel a slight sense of confidence. You didn't get to dress up often, so seeing yourself with a full face of make-up, your hair held back in your favorite clip, and wearing a dress that hugged your curves perfectly? How could you not feel absolutely gorgeous.

You took separate cars and left at different times than Whiskey and Malibu, not wanting to cause any suspicion.

Veronica had never met the Williams before, so at least it wasn't like you had to look at them together all night.

You slipped in your earpiece as you pulled up to the club, checking to make sure you were connected. "Whiskey, do you copy?"

"Yeah." He responded a moment later, whispering with that deep, gruff Southern accent that made you shiver.

"I copy too!" You heard Malibu say, her voice echoing as though she were in an empty room, like a bathroom.

You took a deep breath, composing yourself before exiting the car, greeting the valet with a thick, Russian accent as you dropped your keys into the palm of his hand.

As you entered the building, you couldn't help but glance around the room, looking for a familiar face.

"Hello there, I don't think we've met. Who are you?" A man asked from behind you, slight suspicion in his tone.

You turned, only to be met with the man of the night; Lucifer White, the leader of the biggest cartel ring in South America. The man you were all here to kill.

"I am Veronica Culpeper. I believe you knew my husband?"

"Ahh, yes! James! Oh, I do apologize for your loss. I'm sure you understand though, no?''

You blinked, trying to remember how Veronica's husband died. "Business is business."

Lucifer barked out a laugh, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "A woman who understands how the business world works! I must have a drink with you!" He tried to pull you towards the bar, but you resisted.

Out of nowhere, five guards suddenly looked your way, not liking the disappointment look on their boss's face.

"I don't know.. Maybe I should walk around first? I just got here." You felt beads of sweat beginning to dampen your forehead, the panic burning in the pit of your belly.

"Are you kidding? That is the perfect time to get a drink! Come come!" He reached over and grabbed your hand, actually pulling you towards the bar now.

"Tell me, what is your choice of drink?" He shouted to you over the music, motioning for the bartender.

"I'll take your favorite." You said, throwing up your hands. "I feel adventurous tonight!" Your Russian accent was just as thick as his Spanish one.

Lucifer laughed, giving you a simple nod before speaking to the bartender in Spanish.

"So, what brings you here tonight? I figured you would be more than furious with me at the moment, no?"

And that's when it hit you; Lucifer killed Veronica's husband when an important deal went bad. James was supposedly working with the police, though there wasn't a lot of evidence to support that theory.

Even so, James was the first he killed when he discovered the undercover cops that were supposed to be buying his product.

Not even a minute later, the bartender gently set your drinks on the counter, giving you a nervous look as he prepared other customers. drinks.

"No. As I said. Business is business. My husband was weak." You said as you picked up your drink, raising it in the air. "To good business?"

Lucifer grinned, slamming his glass against yours. "To good business!" He began to chug his drink, watching you out of the corner of his eye to make sure you were drinking yours.

You raised the glass to your lips, preparing to take a sip, when suddenly it was ripped out of your hands. You looked up, watching as Whiskey tossed the glass back behind the bar, nearly missing the bartender's head.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Lucifer roared, standing to get in Whiskey's face. All of the guards in the surrounding area perked up, tightening their grips on their guns as they kept a very close eye on the situation.

"It was my mistake, really. I apologize. I thought she was someone else." Whiskey said, holding his hands in the air. You almost couldn't recognize him without his Southern accent.

You glanced around, catching a glimpse of Malibu, who was standing nearby to watch the situation unfold.

She wore a ruby red dress that hugged her waist perfectly, flaring out into a whirl of ruffles and glitter on the bottom. And even in a moment as tense as this, that familiar burn of insecurity began to creep into your mind.

"Who are you?" Lucifer demanded, gripping Whiskey's collar.

"Right! I'm David Miller, sir."

"Oh really? That's funny, because the David Miller I invited is currently in New Mexico. You see where I'm a little confused, no?"

"Jesus Chirst." Whiskey muttered, not even trying to hide his Southern accent anymore. He punched Lucifer in his jaw, sending both men to the ground.

That's when all hell broke loose.

Everything began to playout in slow motion- what seemed like dozens of men ran up from the first floor at the sight of a fight, trying to take on both Malibu and Whiskey.

You reached behind the bar and grabbed a bottle full of vodka. Storming over to one of the bigger guards who had his back turned, you tapped the back of his knee with your foot, smashing the bottle over his head once he dropped to his knees.

Holding onto the top of the shattered glass bottle, you stabbed an oncoming guard in the stomach with the broken glass, twisting the handle so the glass dug in deeper.

You felt someone grab you from behind, pressing a gun against the side of your head. "And to think I actually trusted you! I was going to make you mine." Lucifer snarled, the metallic smell of blood and alcohol wafting from his mouth.

"Awe, what a shame." You said, before slamming your head back into his face, causing him to stumble back as blood poured from the bridge of his nose.

"You bitch!" He cried out, holding his hand over his nose.

You turned, kicking your foot into his stomach so hard that he flew back into another guard, both of them falling to the ground.

Feeling something break on your shoe, you sucked in a breath, propping your foot up on a nearby barstool to see if you broke the heel.

In doing so, a guard took that as an opportunity, proceeding to jab his knife into the side of your thigh while you weren't paying attention.

You ripped your leg off of the chair, clenching your teeth together in agony as you ripped the knife from your thigh. "You fucker!" You screamed, hurling yourself at the man as though you were some kind of predator.

You all fought like hell for the next ten minutes, the war ending with a single gunshot to Lucifer's forehead.

You stood there panting, holding the gun in a vice-like grip. The familiar feeling of guilt swirled around in your stomach, making you lightheaded. You'd think that after eleven years of killing people, you'd be used to it by now.

Well, you'd be very wrong.

Whiskey and Malibu were by your side a moment later, Whiskey letting out a long whistle when he saw what you had done. "Bit of a hiccup, but I'd say that was a hell of a mission, huh?"

Malibu gave him a are you serious right now? look, gesturing to her torn, blood covered dress.

"Ah well, ya win some, ya loose some." Whiskey patted her on the back, suddenly going quiet when he saw the blood that rushed down the side of your leg, now pooling at your feet. "Please tell me that's someone else's."

You furrowed your brows together, glancing down to see the mess you unintentionally created. "Oh! Huh, I honestly forgot about that.."

Whiskey hurried to your side, looking up at you for permission when he grabbed the edge of your dress. Once you gave him the okay, he took one look at your stab wound and decided that you needed to go to the hospital.

"What? No, Jack, I'm fine! I'll just have Ginger look at it when we get back."

"Ginger is currently at home sleeping. Ya know who isn't? The doctors at the ER down the road. Now go get in the truck."

"I can drive myself-"

"Give Stacy your keys. She'll bring it back to the office for ya."

So now they were on first name basis?

The thought made you cringe, a sour look beginning to spread across your face. "I gave my keys to the valet."

"Got that?" Whiskey asked Malibu, nodding when she agreed. "Now, let's get you taken care of." He gently grabbed your arm, guiding you outside towards the parking lot.

-

"Let me get this straight," The doctor said, taking off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "You just fell on a knife?"

"Yup." You and Whiskey said in union, glancing at one another.

"And how exactly did you fall on a knife?"

You simply shrugged, tossing your hands up.

The doctor eyed you suspiciously, staring at Whiskey as though he did it. "Right.. Well, thankfully it's not very deep. You're going to need stiches and maybe some antibiotics, but you'll be fine. I'll be back in a moment to stitch you up, okay?"

"Thank you, doctor." Whiskey said, giving him a curt nod.

Once the doctor left, you let out a long sigh, beginning to pick at your nails. The only thing you could seem to think about was how Whiskey said Malibu's real name, no hesitation, no warning- he used it as though he'd known her for years.

Tears began to swell in your eyes, making you dig your nails into the palm of your hand to counteract them.

"Is the pain gettin' worse?" Whiskey asked, staring at your clenched fists.

Shit.

"I'm fine." You mumbled rather rudely, you'll admit.

Whiskey raised his brows, swaying his hip to the side. "Well what did I do?"

You rolled your eyes as you huffed out a sigh. "What are you talking about?"

"That! That right there. What's with the attitude?"

"I don't have an attitude, Jack."

"Bullshit. Are you still salty you ain't get to be my wife this time around?"

The lump in your throat began to swell, making it hard to swallow. "I was never salty in the first place. For fucks sake, can't you just wait in the waiting room? I'm a big girl, I can get a few stitches by myself."

Whiskey stared at you in awe. "Oh my god, you are!"

You turned your head so he couldn't see the heat that began to burn through your cheeks. "I'm not!"

"Listen Sugar, I'll make it clear to Champ that you're my number one girl from here on out, alright? I'm not sure how Stacy's gonna feel 'bout-"

"God, do you ever shut up?!" You cried out, finally looking at him with your tear-stained cheeks and wobbling lip. You couldn't hold back your jealousy any longer, hearing her name on his tongue for a second time making your body burn with pure rage.

Whiskey's smile quickly faded. He continued to stare at you as though he solved the worlds hardest puzzle. "Holy shit, you're jealous."

Your eyes went wide, your body suddenly dropping into fight or flight mode. "I don't need this." You jumped to your feet, ripping the curtain back before storming away from him.

"The hell you do!" Whiskey was hot on your tracks, grabbing your wrist once you were in arm's length.

Other patients that didn't have their curtains drawn began to stare at the scene; doctors looked at you both with suspicion.

"People are looking. Will you please just get back in there?"

"Are you going to shut up?"

Whiskey acted as though he locked his lips and threw away the key.

"Fine." You pulled your arm out of his grasp, walking back to the corner yourself.

Whiskey pulled the curtains back once you were both inside the makeshift room, stayed quiet like he promised. Though by the looks of it, his head was racing with thoughts.

You tried to sit on the edge of the bed, but the skin around your wound felt tight- as though your skin would rip if you moved too much. You sucked in a sharp breath, obviously struggling.

"Let me help-"

"Aren't you supposed to be staying quiet?"

Whiskey rolled his eyes. "Don't be a child. Seriously, let me-"

"I'm fine-"

Whiskey sighed, gripping your waist and lifting you onto the bed.

You sat there with a scowl, rubbing your sides. You hated being picked up. "Don't you ever do that again."

Whiskey stared at you for a while, his mouth agape. Not a moment later, he began to laugh- the kind of laugh that had him doubled over, holding his stomach.

"What?" You crossed your arms over your chest, wanting to know what was so funny.

"Ya know you're cute when you're mad?" He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you.

You scoffed, turning your head away from him once again.

"it's true! You may be stubborn, but god damnit, you make up for it by bein' so adorable."

You turned to face him, your brows still furrowed together. "Why are you being so mean to me, Jack?"

"How am I being mean to you, sugar?" Whiskey cooed, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"By acting so nice to me all of the time! None of the other agent's treat me like this. They're usually professional- wanting to get a mission done as soon as possible. But you? You do stuff like this; taking me to the hospital yourself, buying me dinner, flirting with me.. Why?"

Whiskey shook his head, a shy smile tugging at his lips. "You really wanna know?"

"I wouldn't've asked if I didn't."

"True." Whiskey mumbled. He placed his hand on your cheek, guiding your face to his as he gently pressed your lips together.

You sat there frozen for the better part of the kiss, shocked that it was finally happening. Years of tension- of longing, hoping that he would someday feel the same finally poured out into one, single kiss.

And once you finally did kiss him back, your lips pressed against his with urgency, as though you were starving for his touch alone.

"Okay!" The doctor said, yanking back the curtain right as the two of you pulled away. "I hope I'm not interrupting, but are you ready to get started?"

"Not at all! Come on in."

"Great." The doctor and a nurse came in to set everything up for your stitches, not even realizing that they walked in on the best moment of your life.

You laid your head on Whiskey's shoulder, holding the edge of your dress back so the nurse could disinfect the area. "Can I spend the night at your place?" You asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"Sure thing, sugar." Whiskey said with a laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

Yeah, you were gonna be alright.

-

Hello! Thank you so much for reading!! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated :)

Taglist: @dino-fart

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x plus size reader #agent whiskey fanfiction #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x female reader #jack daniels x plus size reader #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels fanfic #jack daniels #jack daniels x female reader #kingsmen #kingsmen golden circle #kingsmen golden circle fanficton #statesmen #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙thoughts #thanks for the ask!!

[drawingdroid]

Drawing Droid’s chaotic Masterlist

Hi, I’m Terry, a Spanish Illustrator & Art teacher who is too obsessed with a space dad and his green child. I love writing fics of them as well as doodling anything Star Wars-related. I take drawing requests at the moment, so drop a message in my inbox if you want a treat. Thank you for sticking with me on this adventure, see you around. 🩵

General info of interest idk

🩵 You can find all my art under #droiddraws and my writings as #droidwrites

🩵 I update on AO3 here

🩵 This is my first year on Tumblr and I still don’t get things 100% here please be patient with me also I’m autistic and a lot of new social cues I don’t get!

One Shots

To be taken care of 🍾 Bounty Hunter Reader | Smut

Sweet Potato 🍠 Modern AU | Neighbours | Fluff

Series

The Unknown Regions 🪐 Plus Size Reader | Adventure, Fluff and Smut 🗓️ Ongoing

Melting Point 🌋 Modern AU | Sculptor Din Djarin | Art PhD Reader | Slow Burn 🗓️ Ongoing

Sketches

Vader under the suit red and blue

Anakin and Padme

Revenge of the Sith Happy Ending AU

Agent Whiskey and Grogu

Grogu Doodles here, here and here 💚

Silly Thanksgiving Din

Bento Box Grogu

Cowboy Grogu

Menstrual cup Din

Confused Din Djarin

Side profile Din

Finished Pieces

Too lazy to finish anything RN

Gifts, Commissions & Requests

Obi-Wan Kenobi x OC

Count Dooku x OC

Here I put all my fav fics and art from other creators I love! Don’t wanna have that gems lost in the vastness of the internet!

Fav Art

That amazing comics of Din and Grogu that make me cry @abigaillarson

Best SW comics in the galaxy @stealingpotatoes

Supreme Din Djarin Art @immarocketman

Din an Grogu being cute & chaotic af by @wwapich

Maul x Obi-Wan Comics I didn’t knew I needed! @milkcioccolato

The cutest SW chibis @nikkigam

Fav Fics

Sweetest Modern Din Djarin AU @604to647

All my fav Pedro Boys by @fuckyeahdindjarin

The cutest Din!!! By @thefrogdalorian

Everything by @beskarandblasters honestly

Other

The dividers we can’t live without from @saradika @saradika-graphics

#din djarin #star wars #the mandalorian #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din grogu #grogu #sw #star wars fanart #din djarin x plus size!reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x gn!reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x fem!reader #clan of two #clan of three #clan mudhorn #shiny tin can #shiny dad #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro boys #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #droidwrites #droiddraws

[nerdieforpedro]

Weekend Update 02/11/2024

Nerdie! It's the middle of the month, how are you?

Good. Nothing to complain about. Mainly relaxed and then worked Thursday and Friday. My orientee made me laugh.

Oh? How so?

She said that now that she's had some different preceptors she enjoys my balances of being a bit hands off since I know she's experienced, but still checking in during the shift to see how things are going. (Puffs out chest and also wonders if that's a good or bad thing.)

I mean, if she said it's fine, it should be fine right? Now did you do anything writing this week?

I did a bit. Not as much as I normally do. I'm gearing up for projects I have either agreed to or planned for myself.

My two fics are quite different. One was silly and sweet and the other was filth. Nerdie in a nutshell really:

Is it for the wallet of the shoebox? (Tim Rockford x plus size female reader) Tim being silly in a bookstore leads to a serious conversation and a partial photoshoot at home. Comedy and domestic fluff with slight spice.

One Pass for the both of Us (Lucian Flores x female reader x Benny Miller) You and your boyfriend Lucian have the same hall pass. All smut with sweatpants and gold chains.

Working on two things I promised people. One requested fluff and the other action and smut.

I decided to start a new series (because clearly I don't have enough - Dieter, Frankie and Tim give Nerdie a death glare) 👀 because this Pedro character was in my WIPs way before the three of you! Might even help me brainstorm…

Two Hearts by the Ocean will feature Javier Gutierrez x Abigail (plus size OFC). The vibe is sweet summer romance. Mainly fluff every Wednesday, not sure how many parts, at least five. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for it. I have a few people in mind but if you'd like to be added, let me know. 😆

Roc & Doc and Weddings 101 with Dieter are still ongoing, no worries. Tim and Dieter have calmed. Frankie is a bit pissed still but you have the longest masterlist Fish! You don’t care…well. Okay. 🫡

I might be trying to figure out how to write Ezra. I love reading fics with the man, but his speech patterns have so many nuances to it. I've been studying @morallyinept aka Jett's Pedro Pascal Character Database that she's been compiling and her entry on Ezra from Prospect has been invaluable. It's an excellent reference for Pedro character fic writers or if you just wanna know more. She also has one specifically on Ezra’s speech patterns that I swear I’ve read at least four times.

It's me, I'm the problem. 😭 I’m either overthinking or not focusing on the right parts. Ugh…

Fics I read this week: ( I took time off work and had plenty of time to read - still didn't get to everything. 🥸)

Movie Night by @munsonownsmyass (Zach Ellison x reader)

No game at all (but I can do this) by @for-a-longlongtime (Marcus Pike x Tim Rockford - Frankie Morales floating in thots)

Wouldn't It Be Nice - Chapter one by @lady-pug (Agent Whiskey x female reader)

02 x birds - Frankie Morales x reader by @trulybetty

Mon Amour by @saturn-rings-writes (Jake Lockley x black female reader)

The Stars by @youvebeenlivingfictional (Poe Dameron x reader)

Mutual by @morallyinept (Ezra x female reader)

Dinner Party by @lavendertales (Steven Grant x fem reader)

The Mercenary and the Whore by @absurdthirst and @storiesofthefandomlovers

Comedy of Errors (MK Spring Bingo #3) by @soft-girl-musings (Steven Grant x GN reader)

03 x snowfall - Marcus Pike x reader by @trulybetty

Ambrosial by @spacecowboyhotch (Din Djarin x fem. black reader)

Half of you - part 1 and part 2 by @foxilayde (Santiago Garcia x female reader)

God Speed by @magpiepills (Tim Rockford x female reader)

Not for nothing @magpiepills (Ezra x female reader)

Perfect Fit by @lowlights (Frankie Morales x plus size reader)

To the Flame - chapter 5 by @pedroshotwifey (Dark Javier Peña x female reader)

Come back to me by @reallyrallyauthor (Poe Dameron x female reader)

If you’re not looking at @immarocketman ‘s art, then I feel sad for you. It’s beautiful 🤗 They put out a sketch of Din/Cobb this week that’s apparently going to have a fanfic written about it by @theywhowriteandknowthings

There was also an excellent head cannon about Sarah’s younger years by @clickergossip that resonated with me on Black girlhood. ☺️

That's about it until next week! 🥰

Stay hydrated and safe!

Love Nerdie 💜

#weekend update #Nerdie update #Nerdie's fic recs #pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #din djarin #frankie morales #ezra prospect #Tim Rockford #Marcus Pike #Santiago garcia #Steven Grant #jake lockley #javier peña #javier gutierrez #poe dameron #zach wellison #Agent Whiskey

[boliv-jenta]

9/10/23

Fic recs

With Pleasured Hands Tommy Miller x AFAB reader, Joel Miller x AFAB reader

@magpiepills

Seven Minutes in Heaven (various Pedro boys) @firstofficerwiggles @oonajaeadira @okdeedee

Seven Minutes in Heaven (The Bathroom) Frankie Morales x f!reader

@tieronecrush

You Need to Relax, Sweetheart (18+) Joel Miller x Babysitter!reader (fem) ((with some Tess)) @walkintotheriveranddisappear

Frankie Fic Recs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

Yoga (Agent Whiskey) @heyhilana

My Writing

Part 6 of And It Just Keeps Getting Better

Jack Whiskey Daniels x plus sized f!reader

Riches Beyond Your Wildest Dreams

Pero Tovar x f!reader

Tags: @kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass @mandoloriancookie @faceache111 @elegantduckturtle @manazo @simpingcowboy @pedrit0-pascalit0 @yourcoolauntie @pedrostories @geekrenaissance @its-nebuleuse @sherala007

#joel miller #tommy miller #frankie morales #jack daniels #pero tovar #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #tommy miler x f!reader #frankie morales x f!reader #jack whiskey daniels x f!reader #pero tovar x f!reader #my weekly round up

[absurdthirst]

Weekly Writing Round Up: October 29th - November 4th

Fics:

Kinktober Day 29: Pregnancy {Javier Peña x F!Reader}

Kinktober Day 30: Hotdogging {Agent Whiskey x F!Reader}

Crashing the Party {Dieter Bravo x Plus Sized!F!Reader}

Kinktober Day 31: Free For All {Mando x F!Reader}

The Wolf in the Woods {Werewolf!Marcus Pike x F!Reader}

#pedro pascal #weekly writing round up #javier peña #ezra prospect #the mandalorian #agent whiskey #pero tovar #frankie morales #marcus pike #dave york #oberyn martell #max phillips #javier gutierrez #dieter bravo #zach wellison #max lord #marcus moreno #joel miller #tim rockford

[anabdaniels]

Cowboytober Day 13- Daddy kink/DDLG

Paring: Agent Whiskey x Plus Size Female Reader

Word counting: 2k

Rating: 18+

Warning: Oral (f receiving), praising, undertones of body worship, low self-esteem, spooning sex.

Masterlist

Part 2: Cowboytober Day 29.

Jack had procrastinated his retirement from the agent life for a good amount of time, always thinking that he could stay on the field for a few more time, but when he realized that you two would end up getting married, he didn’t hesitate to end his career as an agent; he couldn’t bear the idea of how much you would suffer if something serious happened to him and just his work at the distillery was enough stress for him. Furthermore, his time already was well spent taking care of you, after all, you weren’t just his wife, but also daddy’s good girl.

When you decided to tell him that you were into all the daddy stuff, you were ready to receive a no about it but ended up that Jack seemed deeply interested in the whole concept, asking you a lot of questions about it and, after he spent a few days pondering and doing unending researches, you two were finally sitting to discuss how it would work and establish limits and rules.

After the first practical try, you were a bit incredulous about the fact that he wasn’t familiar with such a thing, because he was damn good with it, almost like a natural talent, especially when it comes to finding a good balance between pampering and discipline you. Jack spoiled you rotten every single day, but he was strict with rules; thanks to his businessman side, you had a carefully planned list of daily activities to do, and you couldn’t cheat about it, he would carefully inspect if you had done everything and you could bet, he would give you a punishment for it, even that he was too soft-hearted to give you hard penalties.

On that afternoon, you were focused on the task you had: organizing all your stationary material. Usually, you had more than one thing to do, but at the weekends it used to be only one or two easy tasks, just to keep you entertained while Jack was around the ranch taking care of the animals.

When you were taking a final look at your now perfectly aligned desk, you heard Jack entering the bedroom, and looked directly at him with a proud smile, expecting his reaction excitedly, still sitting on your chair.

“Well, well, seems that my baby had worked hard while I was out.” He smiled while resting his hands on your shoulders and kissing the top of your head.

“I’m still not sure about organizing it by color.” You said while looking at the desk again.

“Don’t worry about that, you’ve done an incredible job, babygirl.” Jack grabbed your chin softly, making you look at him and kissing the tip of your nose “Now c’mere, darling.” He grabbed both of your hands, making you get up and walk towards the bed, sitting on its edge and placing you on his lap “You’ve behaved very well this week, so you’re getting a reward. Anything you want, my love.” He said calmly while caressing your hair.

“Anything?” you asked excitedly, smiling openly when he nodded “I already know what I want.” You affirmed while leaning forward to rub your face on his neck with your arms wrapped around his waist.

“What a naughty girl.” He chuckled and grabbed your thighs “Are you sure? From everything you can ask, that’s what you want?”

“Yes, I want you, daddy.” You answered rubbing your cheek on his jaw.

“Then you should receive.” He grabbed your face between his hands and kissed your lips softly for a brief moment “Help your old daddy and take off your dress.” You nodded and obeyed promptly, getting rid of your dress. Jack leaned back to take a good look at you, grabbing your thick waist, and caressing it gently. “Seems that someone is finally obeying the rule of no underwear at home.” He mentioned with a smirk and moved on the bed, lying you on your back “Does my beautiful girl have any special request?” you shook your head negatively and he smiled “You’re so easy to please, my love.” He approached his face of yours, kissing you slowly. You sighed softly and passed your arms around his neck, relaxing under his body.

Just when you needed to catch your breath, Jack moved down, kissing your neck and caressing the sides of your body, making you soften even more on the bed. He planted a soft kiss on the space between your breasts while cupping both of them and rubbing your nipples softly, making you sigh and squirm on the bed. He kept going down, kissing every inch of your chubby belly, moving one hand to caress your skin, and taking his time to caress and kiss your rounded lower stomach.

You could only whimper and grab his hair when he finally moved his mouth between your legs, directing all his attention to your needy clit while gently pinching your nipple with his other hand still on your lower stomach, massaging that region. You propped in one elbow to take a look at the whole scene, loving the vision of him buried between your legs, looking very pleased to be there, licking and sucking your clit with an unfair precision.

The hardest you were trying, your hips started to make small involuntary moves, which resulted in you choking on your breath when you moved against his face, making his nose and mustache rub slightly on you. You could hear his satisfied chuckle with that scene and he seemed to want to mess a bit more with you as he intensified his rhythm, putting a bit more pressure on your lower stomach, circling and rubbing your nipple with his fingertip.

As much as you wanted to enjoy it longer, you couldn’t resist that amazing view of your man so invested on please you and being so damn good at doing it. You allowed your body to be taken by that pleasure that had been growing in your womb, tightening your grip on his hair and moaning considerably loudly, getting even more wet as you reached your climax, collapsing on the bed right after it.

You honestly couldn’t say how long you remained with your eyes closed while calming yourself, the only thing you knew was the pleasant surprise you had when you opened your eyes, noticing that Jack had got rid of his clothes while you were catching your breath. He lay by your side, caressing your cheek softly while admiring your face.

“You look so pretty like that, my love. Now tell me, how would you like to receive your reward?” you thought for a moment and looked away, feeling stupid by the option you considered.

“It’s up to you, daddy. The one I’d like it’s not an option.” You answered the softest you could.

“I’m the one who’ll decide that, now tell me.” Despite being demanding, his tone was warm, when you shook your head negatively, Jack grabbed your chin, making you look at him “Sweetheart, daddy is demanding an answer. Don’t ruin your good behavior now, baby. Tell me what I want to know.”

“Spooning.” You answered in a low tone, closing your eyes for a moment.

“And why do you think it ain’t an option?” his tone kept soft and his fingers were still holding your chin.

“I know I’m too big for that.” You answered feeling your cheeks getting slightly red.

“Where did you get these absurd ideas from?” he chuckled and pulled you closed, giving you a soft peck on the lips “We’ll certainly discuss this later, but for now, I’ll give my precious girl what she wants.”

Gently, he turned your body on the bed, holding you from behind and kissing the curve of your neck, then moving his hand down, splitting your legs, letting your lower leg rest on top of his thigh. You bit your bottom lip and closed your eyes when the tip of his cock rubbed against your wet cunt, before he slid slowly inside you, letting you feel how every inch filled you.

Jack moved his hand up to your stomach, gently grabbing your soft flesh while kissing your shoulder and moving his hips at a constant calm pace. His other arm was under your neck, your head rested on his bicep while his hand laid on your chest, caressing your breasts. You moaned quietly and placed one hand on his forearm that was in your waist, and your other hand moved to squeeze your pillow.

Even if you needed to, you wouldn’t be able to remember when was the last time you had been so relaxed and comfortable as you were in that moment, feeling the warmth of Jack’s hands and body on your skin while making love with you was unquestioningly the best thing you ever felt.

You turned your head while reaching for him and Jack promptly got the message, approaching his face of yours and kissing you passionately, while still caressing your chubby tummy that he loved so much, he had even established a rule that he could give you a punishment if you kept with your mean comments about it or any other part of your body; he couldn’t accept your unfair criticism about the absolutely breathtaking beautiful body you had.

After some moments, you wondered if it had been a good idea to kiss him in such a pleasant position because you had plenty of awareness that you wouldn’t hold yourself back for too long, it felt so good to have him all over you like that. When you involuntarily squeezed his cock inside you, Jack got the confirmation he needed to be sure that you were close to your climax and he couldn’t be more thankful about it, once he knew he couldn’t last much longer. Having your beautiful curved body that close to his while he could touch every inch of your skin aroused the poor man to a whole new level.

Feeling his self-control about to betray him, Jack moved his hand down, touching your clit at the same pace he was thrusting into you, making you moan and squirm, sinking your nails into his forearm as he pushed you to the limit. When finally, you reached your orgasm, Jack whimpered quietly, moving his hand back to your stomach, groping the region slightly rougher than before. His hand that was on your chest moved to find yours, making you let go of the pillow, intertwining his fingers on yours, and squeezing your hand as he came deep inside you. Finally, both of you needed to recover your breaths, breaking the kiss, but keeping your faces closer. You moaned quietly as Jack kept moving, leading you to another orgasm, making you clench around him tighter than before as you enjoyed another climax.

When none of you two could handle it anymore, he started to decrease the move of his hips until he stopped completely, burying his face in your neck while he tried to get his composure back, both of you breathing heavily and sweating considerably. After a few minutes like that, even with the feeling of your skin sticky, you were about to fall asleep, getting a bit more awake when Jack kissed your cheek.

“Stay awake, darling.” He asked softly and you needed a lot of effort to open your eyes.

“But I’m tired, daddy.” You complained in a slurred voice.

“I know that, my angel.” He cupped your cheek and caressed it with his thumb “But you need a bath. You can take a nap after it.”

“Alright.” You answered in a lazy voice, rubbing your eyes to try to stay awake.

“And, by the way, since this was supposed to be your reward but I’ve enjoyed it as much or even more than you, you are still allowed to ask me anything you want.” He told you in a warm voice and kissed your forehead, carefully taking you in his arms and walking to the bathroom.

Cowboytober Masterlist

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #agent whiskey #agent whiskey fic #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels #jack whiskey daniels #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #kingsman: the golden circle #pedrostories

[ruinedbylanadelrey]

Can i request agent whiskey x plus!size reader where the reader is dating whiskey and when he died she never left his side till he woke up he jumped up from the bed and tried to calm him down but of course she needed the nurses help he needed his memories back and nothing worked when he looked at the reader so the nurse had to pull out a picture of his ex girlfriend and that worked the reader got insecure because she knew in her gut that he wasn’t over his dead ex girlfriend but she ignored it because she loved him that just pissed the reader off and she started ignoring whiskey when they had missions together and everyone else noticed it so whiskey planned a romantic dinner and proposed to the reader (hope it’s good)

Stand by Your Man | Agent Whiskey x Plus Size!Reader

"Stand by your man and show the world you love him"- Tammy Wynette

warnings: self doubt, self esteem issues, men being men

wc: 1.3K

masterlist

He's okay, you just need to breathe. You were there when he was shot, it was just a graze. Ginger told you Jack would be okay. She wouldn't lie to you.

"He'll be awake any second, you're the first option to help him gain his memory. We do have a second option if he doesn't come back..." Ginger mumbled the last bit of the sentence.

The other choice would cause problems for you and Jack. She doesn't want to cause any problems between you as a couple. Jack pops awake and looks around the white sterile room, you feel a wave of relief wash over you when he looks into your eyes. A smirk grew on his face but he wasn't there.

No softness behind those puppy dog eyes. There was no sparkle in his eyes when he looked at you, unlike how it usually is. "Jack, baby," You cautiously reach to hold his face in your hands. "What's your name, sugar?" He pulled you by your waist, your heart started to crack. He doesn't remember you. Jack's touch felt different, cold to the touch. It wasn't inviting and comfortable.

Years of happiness had just been erased from his mind. Years of trust, love, and dedication are just gone. You remove yourself from his hold and turn to look at Ginger.

She saw how hurt you were by the fake smile you had on your face. It was painful. "I guess it's time for the second choice," You whispered, you walked behind her and watch her pull out a Polaroid of his high school sweetheart.

You could see Jack come back down to earth and everything hit him all at once. You tried not to be upset because now you all have Jack back. Everything you hid the in back of your mind was true. Jack was never over her, you can't be mad at him for not being over her. But he always claimed that you are his life and treated you like it. 

Were you unmemorable to Jack? Maybe you never actually mattered to him? Insecurities were at the forefront of your mind. Hating yourself a bit more than usual.

You sat in your home just analyzing yourself, what does he even see in you? Are you just a stupid young girl who fell in love with the first guy who is a gentleman? To YOU, Jack did not fall in love with you for your looks, but then he certainly did not fall for your personality. 

You haven't felt this self-hatred since you were a teenager who just hated everything about yourself. Jack was trying to be a good partner and tell you how you're beautiful to him and tried to make you feel good in his bed. The mind-numbing sex was helping you not think about how much you disgust yourself.

Jack noticed how you seemed distant and muddled. You waved off your hurt as just trying to process almost losing him. You felt sick to your stomach any time you had to be near him. Mission came up again and ignoring him outside the work helped you process the anger and resentment you felt toward him.

"Rosé, Whiskey, you're next assignment..." Champ droned on about the details for the next mission. Your ears roared with blood rushing to your head, you wanted to pass out. You got lucky the past few assignments weren't just the two of you, it was the two of you and another person at Statesmen. 

You pretended to sleep on the plane to not speak to Jack. You heard Jack seat himself next to you, lifting your head and letting you rest in his lap. The way his body felt foreign to you, it didn't feel like home anymore.

"I'm sorry, baby" Jack whispered as he stroked your hair. You wanted to sit up and just ask him a million questions. You craved reassurance from him that he loves you. What is he sorry for? Sorry for leading you on? Sorry for not being over her? Sorry for that first mission, you had together where you fell in love with each other?

You always stood by Jack because you love him even when life really tested you and Jack. You felt the tears escape from your closed eyes. Jack watched the tears stain his jeans, it was the confirmation he needed. He hated how hurt you'd been since the day in the lab. "I forgive you, Jack." You opened your eyes and looked at him, you straddled his waist and his hands sit on your hips like it was a natural reflex. 

"Please don't ignore me anymore, I don't know if my old heart can take it, doll." Jack lays a kiss on your nose. You melt at his touch, it started to feel familiar. "You're not old," you said as you took his hat off his head and put it on yours. His world-famous smirk grew on his pretty face as the hat rule was fresh in his mind.

-

You got a resort that was a little too expensive for your taste. The suite was decorated with your favorite flowers, prairie roses. "I had them flown in from Texas," Jack softly said as you looked at them in awe. You felt all your insecurities wash away by the gesture. 

Jack was always a romantic and that made you fall in love with him from the start of it all. You loved how he remembered such minor things you would tell him.

Like how your mom would tell you all the time when you were a kid how the flower is just a weed but you thought it was the most beautiful flower you have ever seen. How much you like crystals more than diamonds resulting in Jack by you several necklaces with rose quartz pendants. 

"So there is no mission?" You ask with a sweet smile on your face, Jack chuckled and shook his head. "Just us saving each other." Jack sat on the expansive bed pulling on his lap. "I love you, Jack, and proud of you" You kiss the corner of his mouth, you want to be his forever and show everyone how much you love him. "I love you more, sugar," Jack always said 'more' even though you think he's completely wrong. You don't understand him but you can't argue with how he feels and thinks.

"Now get all pretty for me, darlin', we have reservations in an hour." Jack set you on your feet and gave an encouraging smack on your ass. You heard yourself giggling like a schoolgirl as you grabbed your things to get ready. 

You watched Jack another whiskey neat and fidget in his seat while the two of you ate the tiny portions of the dinner. It was unlike Jack to be uncool, he is a man who is sure of himself.

He is a true man because he was confident in every move he makes, every word he says, every breath he takes, he always made you feel safe because of his masculinity. "Baby, what's wrong? You're squirming like a worm," You asked, he stopped his movements and laughed a little trying to ease himself. 

You watched him reach for his pocket and took a deep breath, "Doll, I see how you stand by me through everything that is thrown at us and I thank the universe every day for blessing me with a loving woman. I love you more than there are stars in the sky, I want to come home to you and have you for life if you'll let me. Will you marry me?" Jack kneeled at your feet with a rose quartz ring. You love the sight of him at your feet begging you to have him for life. It was beautiful to see a self-assured man ask for love forever. 

#agent whiskey #jack daniels x female reader #whiskey kingsman #agent whiskey x f!reader #pedro pascal #kingsman golden circle #jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey x female reader #agent whiskey x y/n

[metalnecklace]

There Was Heaven In Your Eyes

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (plus size)

Words: 4871

Warnings: Mentions of Fatphobia (Certainly not from Javi, don’t worry)

Notes: We got domestic Javi here. He’s so soft, respects the shit out of women of all shapes and sizes, and is a true gentleman.

Masterlist

Chapter 4

“Make yourself at home.”

Javier walked into his home with me close behind him. He threw his keys into a bowl and shrugged off his jacket. He laid it on the back of a dark leather chair that matched the couch and another chair. His furniture looked as though it was picked out of a catalog, and it probably was. His place seemed to suit him fine, although there were hardly any personal touches. There was a pillow and blanket on his couch, a nearly full ashtray on the coffee table next to an empty glass, and the only picture I could see was a framed one on the table by the door. In the picture he was standing with a smile on his face and his arm around someone who looked like an older version of himself.

“I know it’s not much,” he said. “We get provided with a furnished apartment when we come here. Murphy’s upstairs.”

I nodded, trying to take everything in.

“It’s cozy,” I said, still amazed by what was happening. “Javier, this is too much.”

“Please,” he stepped toward me, “what happened to Javi?”

I chuckled. “I’m not sure what came over me that day, I must’ve just been so panicked I forgot myself.”

The look in his eyes made me want to close our distance, just so I could feel his arms around me one more time. Instead of doing just that, he stepped away and into the kitchen. I sat on one of his chairs and continued to look around, even though there was nothing else to see until he came back holding two glasses filled a quarter of the way up with an amber liquid.

“I figured you could use a drink,” he set the glass down on the table and took a seat on the couch, draping the blanket over the back. “I hope whiskey’s fine.”

I brought the glass to my lips and tipped my head back enough for some of the alcohol to slip onto my tongue. I hadn’t had a drink since I was taken in by the Escobar family, and usually I wasn’t fond of the stronger drinks. There was something about Javi though, that made me feel an immediate comfort as soon as I swallowed the burn down my throat and into my chest.

“Thank you, again.” I placed my glass back on the table. “This really is too much.”

“I couldn’t let you be out there on the streets,” he downed the rest of his glass and placed it on the table. “But there’s one rule.”

My heart dropped. “What is it?”

He leaned closer and I wondered if he could hear my heart pounding. “You have to be honest with me.”

“I have been.”

He shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment. “You can’t fool me, (Y/N).”

My hands started to shake again, I took a sip of my drink to try and play it cool.

“Javier, I have no idea what you mean.” I refused to look at him, knowing the effect he had on me.

“Look at me.” Fuck. I was fucked. “Why did you really come to Colombia?”

I opened and closed my mouth, unsure of what to say. I suppose I didn’t have to tell him the entire truth, though. Just enough of the truth to satisfy the agent in front of me.

“I didn’t have anyone left. No family, no friends.” True. “My boyfriend,” lie, “was not the nicest man.” True. “I just needed to get out, and start over, so I picked the first place that was far enough away and offering work.” True, true, true.

Javier let my words settle between, almost as if he could see them on the table. Eventually he leaned back on the couch, looking satisfied enough.

“Okay,” he said. “I think you picked the wrong place to get away from men who aren’t very nice.”

I laughed, finally seeing a smile break out across his face.

“I know it's not super late, but you’re probably exhausted.” He stood up grabbing our glasses, mine now empty. “I’ll change the bed for you then you can just settle in. We’ll have to get you clothes too, but I have a shirt you can wear.”

“Oh,” I stood with him, “I thought I was just going to sleep on the couch.”

He stopped in his tracks and looked at me like I was crazy. “Absolutely not. You get the bed, I’ll take the couch.”

“But Javier, this is your house.” I gestured to the room, but he knew what I meant.

“And you’re my guest. So you get the bed.” He turned and kept walking to the kitchen. “Plus I hardly sleep lately, so at least someone will be using it.”

Just as he said, he went and changed his sheets and showed me where the shower was. He told me he’d be returning after grabbing some stuff at the office, but laid out a shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

“These should fit,” he said. “Feel free to do some laundry, all the stuff is in the bathroom. We’ll get you some clothes tomorrow, and some groceries. I’m sorry I don’t have a lot.”

“That’s okay, I’ll survive.” I picked up his shirt, the well worn cotton soft against my fingertips. “I don’t need these, though, I can just wait until mine are clean.”

He took his shirt from me and laid it back on the bed. “Nonsense. As much as I like the sound of you laying around my apartment while naked, I’d rather you be comfortable.”

I blushed at his comment, and looked down at my feet. “But I don’t want to stretch out your clothes.”

I looked back up at him in time to see the way his eyes dragged over my body. My size hadn’t really been an issue in Colombia, but he was American. Flashbacks of my husband calling me every name in the book danced around in my head. I wouldn’t know what to do if Javi was the same.

He shrugged. “I’ll buy new ones. These are yours now.”

Before I could argue he walked away. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” He stopped in the doorway and turned back to me, his eyes burning. “You’re safe here. I promise. Get some rest, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thank you again, Javier.” I watched him walk away, his broad shoulders tense with the weight of the world.

I threw my clothes into the washing machine, not caring that he already had some there. I decided it would probably be nice of me to run his clothes through, considering he was giving a stranger free reign in his home. After pressing start I stood back and caught my reflection in the mirror. Just a month ago I was dreaming of what Javi’s voice would sound like on the phone, and next thing I knew I was standing naked in his bathroom while washing his clothes.

The shower helped soothe my muscles and I felt brand new as I put on the outfit Javi had provided. The sweatpants must have been quite big on him, since they fit pretty well other than being a bit tight around my hips and butt, and the shirt was definitely tight everywhere, especially my chest.

Luckily all I was going to be doing was sleeping in them. I changed the laundry over into the dryer and climbed into his bed. The beds I had with the Escobar’s certainly weren’t bad, since he had enough money to make sure we were all comfortable enough at night. But even though Javi’s bed wasn’t top dollar I found the safety of it pulled me into a deep sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

I wasn’t sure how long I slept, I only know I woke up with a start. I sat up suddenly, panting and sweaty, my heart racing. Javi stood in the doorway, also slightly out of breath.

“Sorry,” he averted his gaze. He was wearing his jacket again and still had his shoes on. “I just came in and heard yelling. Nightmare?”

My breathing slowed down but I couldn’t talk yet. I nodded my head, embarrassment washing over me.

“It’s okay, I have them too.” He looked at me then. This agent who carried such a dangerous weapon everywhere he went suddenly seemed so soft. “I brought some food home. I was gonna save it for the morning for you, but if you’re hungry now you could always join me in the living room.”

“Okay,” I squeaked out. “I’ll be there in a second.”

Once he had left I made my way to the bathroom. Our laundry was done, which meant I could put my underwear back on so I wouldn’t be so hot when I slept. I kept the sweatpants on for when I would be in his presence though, and splashed some cool water on my face. I was going to change my shirt, feeling self-conscious in the stretch of the fabric across my chest and belly, but when my stomach growled I kept my head up and walked to his living room. I was too hungry to care. He was sitting on the couch again, with a soft, red t-shirt tucked into another pair of his sweatpants. His eyes followed me as I entered the room and sat in the same chair I had been in before, my food that he got me already prepared on the table.

“Enchiladas,” he said, his eyes glancing down at his shirt stretched over my chest before popping back up to my face. “I hope that’s alright. There’s a great takeout place just around the corner.”

I inhaled the wonderful scent of the food in front of me, mingled with the smoky fragrance of the man not much further away.

“Wow,” I breathed, “it smells amazing.”

My stomach grumbled again, causing us to break into laughter. I took a bite and hummed around my food, loving the flavours that mixed together. Tata and I had made some wonderful food, she taught me a lot, but just like the bed, the essence of safety is what sealed the deal.

We ate in silence, though it wasn’t uncomfortable. When I was finished he cleared my place without asking, and came and sat down on the couch when he was done.

“How are you feeling now?” He pulled a cigarette out of his jacket that was strewn across the back of the couch.

“Better. Much better.” I sat back, feeling full and sleepy again. “Thank you so much for letting me stay here. I just need to figure something else out.”

“As long as you’re okay that figuring something else out might take a long time,” he took a drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke billow toward the ceiling. “The only other thing I can think of is sending you to the states.”

I blanched at the thought, my eyes giving away my feelings.

“That’s what I thought,” he said. “(Y/N), you can stay here as long as you need. As long as it takes.”

“I just don’t want to put you out of house and home. You don’t even know me.”

He shook his head and waved his hand. “You’re not putting me out of anything. You’re staying here and that’s that.”

I nodded and focused my attention on the glow between his lips, produced by every inhale.

“On one condition, of course.”

My attention snapped back to him. “I thought there was already a condition. I have to tell you the truth.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re working on that one. This one’s different.” He leaned forward and placed his cigarette into the ashtray, then focused intently on me, smiling wickedly. “You have to call me Javi.”

I felt my lips moving on their own, a smile stretching across my face. “Then you have to earn it.”

He bit his lip, his smile growing more. Then stuck out his hand. I placed my palm in his, relishing in the warmth.

“Deal.”

The next morning I walked into the kitchen wearing my own clothes. Javi was already awake, fully dressed in his workwear once more, and making coffee.

“Morning,” he said, his voice gruff with sleep causing my stomach to flutter. “I was thinking we can make a list and go get some groceries this morning.”

“That sounds good,” I accepted the cup he held out to me, the warmth radiating through my hands and up my arms. “Don’t you have to work, though?”

He shook his head. “Nah, I can go in later. Steve’s got it. He’ll call if he really needs me.” He opened up a drawer and pulled out a notebook and pencil. “What kind of stuff do you like to get?”

“What do you have now?”

“Nothing.” He pursed his lips. “Coffee. That’s it.”

I took a sip of said coffee, cringing at the taste.

“We should probably get cream and sugar.” Javi started writing.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m not a strong coffee kind of girl.” I chuckled and placed the mug back on the counter.

He reached over and took my cup, pouring its contents into his already empty one.

“All good.” He took a sip and continued writing on the notepad. “I’ll put eggs and toast, those are classic.”

I nodded, humming. “What kind of stuff do you usually like to eat?”

He paused, thinking for a moment. “Take out. Coffee.”

Javi looked at me as I stared at him, mouth agape.

“Javier, how often do you usually eat a meal?”

He laughed. “Hey, take out counts as a meal.”

“Fair point, but how often do you get take out?”

Silence settled over us. In a turn of events, he was the one struggling to tell the truth.

“Every once in a while.” He averted his gaze and took a sip of his coffee.

“What?!” I was shocked at this. “You barely eat! How are you even surviving? Do you know how physically draining your job is? Maybe you’d have caught Escobar by now if you actually ate breakfast.”

He fully laughed, throwing his head back. The sound was like music to my ears.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I promise to do better.”

I groaned, ignoring the nickname. “Okay, well what take out do you usually like? I know we can add the ingredients for enchiladas to that list, but what else?”

Together we stood there in his kitchen while he finished his second cup of coffee and we made our list. When I was satisfied with what we had we set out to the store.

“Wait, I don’t have any money.” I realized my purse had been left back at the house they had saved me from. “I can’t let you pay for all this.”

He shook his head, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting out the window with a cigarette in hand. “Don’t even worry about it, you’re keeping me alive at this point. Plus, the government is paying for it, really. You can’t say no to that.”

We laughed and continued driving along.

“We do have your purse, by the way. We can pick it up on the way back.” He came to a stop in front of the market. “We had to take all the money, though, considering it was from Escobar. But everything else is there.”

I nodded. Great. I had nothing to my name, and barely even my name.

We shopped side by side, grabbing what was on our list with a few extra snacks as well. It was surprisingly very domestic, and I couldn’t remember the last time I felt that good just doing tasks with somebody. It was probably when my husband and I had first started dating, when he was still trying.

The entire time we were there I was still making sure to keep an eye out, and I was sure he was doing the same thing. His gun was tucked into the back of his jeans as always, but he still did his best to keep me at ease with our steady conversation about which food items were better for their price.

We also picked up some toiletries that I needed. Luckily he had an extra toothbrush at his place, but I missed my shampoo and conditioner.

“What about body wash? I’m sure you want something that smells better than mine,” Javier asked while reading some of the labels on the bottles in front of him.

“Actually, I don’t mind your body wash. It smells nice.” I picked out my conditioner and put it in the full cart.

He bit his lip and reached for a bottle. “This one is vanilla oat. That would be nice, right? And there’s a matching body lotion.”

I chucked, walking up beside him to look at the labels. “Most men don’t seem to care about body lotion.”

“Hey, I pay attention.” He turned to look at me, a twinkle in his eyes and a smile tugging on his lips. “I just don’t always apply my knowledge to myself.”

He popped open the cap on the body lotion and held it out for me to smell. I inhaled the sweet scent, my eyes closing. It was really nice, I loved vanilla. He smelled it next and his reaction was the same as mine.

“Okay, yeah, this is really nice. We’re getting this.” He put the body wash and lotion in the cart, and we continued walking. “I might have to steal it from you, though.”

I laughed, but my heart felt warm at the thought of us smelling the same. I also loved the image of him taking care of himself, and even just enjoying self care. It was also difficult to try not to get hot thinking about him in the shower.

I grabbed some deodorant, and more toothpaste because we were almost out. He didn’t bat an eye when I grabbed the tampons and pads that I needed, and even offered to grab some for me whenever I needed them, since I couldn’t leave the apartment without him.

We finished up and loaded the groceries into his truck, then drove toward his work. I was excited to get my purse back, even though there wasn’t much in it. It was just nice to have something other than the clothes on my back that was all mine.

We walked into the office and I struggled not to feel completely out of place. My t-shirt and jeans weren’t much different from what Javi was wearing, but I was sure everybody could tell I did not belong there. It was hard to ignore their eyes on us.

Steve met us outside of an office with a smile on his face.

“Well, hello there,” he said, glancing between the two of us before giving Javi an even bigger smile. “Get a lot of sleep last night?”

“Murphy,” Javi said, a warning in his voice.

“I’m kidding!” Steve laughed and gestured toward me. “You actually look pretty well rested, how are you doing?”

“I’m alright, thank you,” I answered.

Steve led us into the room where a box sat on a shelf with all my belongings inside of it. He pulled it out and set it on the table in the middle of the room.

“Sorry, we had to take everything out of your bag. Just to make sure there wasn’t anything useful. For us anyway,” Steve explained, rubbing the back of his neck.

I took my purse out of the plastic bag it was in and started to take out the rest of my belongings as well. All that was out of it was my wallet, with two pictures of my nieces, and the folded up card that was now unfolded and facing up. Javi reached down and lifted it up, smiling as he read his name. I reached out and snatched it from his hands, throwing it in my purse.

Once I was done I thanked Steve again. He and Javi discussed what was going to happen when Javi came back later that afternoon. They didn’t seem to mind that I was right there as they discussed their plans, and I asked Javi about it when we were back at his place.

“Well, do I have a reason not to trust you?” He asked while putting away the groceries I handed him from our bags on the table.

I thought about that question and realized that while I wasn’t sure how much I could trust him, he trusted me fully.

“Do you think if given the chance you’d go back to the Escobar family?” He stood up from putting away the carton of eggs in the fridge. Javi was completely serious, and held eye contact while he awaited my answer.

I shook my head. “Even if I wanted to, which I don’t, they wouldn’t let me.”

He nodded. “Okay, then that settles it. Hand me the milk, please?”

I continued to hand him groceries as he went about putting them in their rightful places. When we were done we sat down and had more enchiladas from around the corner, because according to Javi you can’t go grocery shopping without getting take out immediately after. I didn’t argue, they had been so good the night before that my mouth was watering before he even entered the house with them.

“Tomorrow I can take you clothes shopping. Don’t worry though, you can have your space, I’ll just be in the background keeping an eye out.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin and folded it up onto his plate. “I’d let you go alone but you know why that can’t happen.”

“I understand,” I said, mirroring his actions before standing up and clearing our plates. “What would you like for dinner tonight?”

He stood and stretched his arms over his head, causing his shirt to tighten over his torso. I immediately started washing the dishes so I wouldn’t be caught staring.

“I’m not gonna lie,” he walked over to me, grabbing a towel so he could dry while I washed, “I feel like I’d be pretty happy with anything you make.”

I chuckled and kept my eyes on the dishes, ignoring the heat of his body next to mine.

“Of course, you don’t have to make anything. I certainly don’t expect food when I get home, and I can always make something quick or grab something on the way.”

“Javier, I’m going to be stuck here, bored and alone.” I turned to him to find he was already watching me. “You’ve taken me in, and are offering me sanctuary in your home, your space. Please, let me do this for you.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, my eyes flicked to the movement, then up to his mouth for a fraction of a second before landing on his eyes once again.

“Okay,” he said, nodding slightly. “Thank you.”

I smiled. “You should get yourself to work, I’ll be fine.”

While he was at work I showered once again, throwing my clothes (and the ones he gave me) into the laundry again, and then napped for a few hours. I couldn’t believe how exhausted I felt, but the comfort of Javi’s bed and knowing I was safe as long as I was there lulled me to sleep every time I shut my eyes for longer than a second.

I had just woken up from a nap when his phone rang from the kitchen. I rolled out of bed, realizing that the sky was dark. I had slept for much longer than I anticipated.

I rushed to the kitchen to answer his phone, only to hear his voice on the other end.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He sounded drained but my stomach still did a flip at the nickname. “I’m just finishing up some stuff, but I wanted to let you know I’m a bit late tonight. Just didn’t want you waiting up or anything.”

I cleared my throat, since it was thick with sleep. “No, no, don’t worry. I actually just woke up from a nap, so I’m only starting supper now.”

He chuckled. “Alright, sleepyhead. I’ll see you in two hours tops.”

“See you then!”

I busied myself with preparing the ingredients I needed. After some deliberation I settled on arepas, one of my favourites that I made with Tata. Even though the memories seeped in as I cooked it still helped to have some nicer ones mingle in. The brighter parts of my day were relaxing with the children or cooking. At least I got to keep practicing the recipes I had been taught and ones I fell in love with.

Javier came through the front door just as I finished up, setting dishes out and tidying up the ones I didn’t need anymore.

“Dios mío, it smells amazing in here.” He followed the scent of my cooking into the kitchen and I wished I could take a picture of the look on his face.

The look of awe that settled onto his features was enough to make my heart stutter. He looked absolutely exhausted, but the gratefulness that broke through his slouched shoulders and tousled hair nearly camouflaged it.

“Long day?” I asked, taking out glasses for the drink I knew he needed.

“You could say that again,” he admitted, walking over to where he kept his whiskey. “Which is strange because I didn’t go in until the afternoon, but it still felt like I was there forever.”

He sauntered over and poured his beverage of choice into the two glasses.

“This looks absolutely fantastic.” He capped the bottle and looked at what I had prepared. “Arepas? I haven’t had those in a while.”

“Why don’t you grab a shower and get changed, it needs to cool down a bit anyway.” I shooed him away with a wave of my hand, causing him to laugh.

He drank down his glass. “Yes ma’am.” He saluted and walked into the direction of his room.

I rolled my eyes and plated everything. I was almost nervous for him to try my cooking. What if it wasn’t up to par? Especially since I was just learning how to cook Colombian dishes. I knew he wasn’t Colombian, but he would still know the difference between authentic and a failure.

As soon as he was done with his shower he was sitting at the table, pulling on a t-shirt as he did so. I tried my hardest to ignore the way his skin glistened from his shower, and nearly choked when I saw how low his sweatpants were sitting on his hips. I could see the start of hair dusting his lower abdomen, leading down into the thick material. I didn’t need to imagine where it led to, and focused on drinking the whiskey he had poured for me earlier. I also couldn’t quite bite back my smile when the scent of vanilla wafted over the table to meet me.

Turns out I didn’t need to worry about what he’d think of my food. He took a bite of his arepa and his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. He moaned around his food, causing a warmth to grow in my lower belly.

“Fuck, this is amazing,” he said once he had swallowed. “Absolutely incredible.”

I blushed. “Thanks, Javier.”

He smiled, one corner of his lips tilting higher than the other. “Where have you been all my life? This is the best food I’ve ever tasted.”

This caused me to roll my eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

We laughed together and continued to eat. He told me as much about his day as he was authorized to, and I let him make fun of me for sleeping mine away. When we were finished he insisted on tidying up and doing the dishes.

“You prepared this meal, I clean it up. Those are the rules.”

“Fine, fine,” I said, giving in way too easily.

We sat on his couch talking for about an hour, just about our lives before Colombia. I didn’t tell him much about before I left, and mostly stuck to childhood stories. He told me about his father’s ranch back in Texas, and how stubborn he was. I joked that I could tell Javier probably inherited that trait.

After a while I felt like I couldn’t keep my eyes open. My head was resting on the back of the couch, my body angled sideways toward Javi. Every time I blinked my eyelids stayed closed longer and longer, like they were getting heavier and heavier.

“You should get some more sleep,” he said, reaching over and taking my glass out of my hand before I dropped it. “We’ll go get you some more clothes tomorrow, even though I do like the look of you in mine.”

I was too tired to react to that, and instead said, “yeah, okay.”

I stood up on my own and shuffled to his room, turning back and calling out good night before I laid down and fell asleep before I could hear his answer.

“Buenas noches, cariño.”

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