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Not A Whiskey Drinker Masterlist

Summary: After being fired from your job as a personal assistant at a fancy marketing company you thought your time in New York City was done for. Your way of thinking gets turned around however when you get a job offer from Statesmen Brewery. What happens though when you’ve already met your boss? ONGOING

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

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Not A Whiskey Drinker Pt. 6

Author’s Note: Okay so I had to add a little Pedro easter egg in this chapter so keep your eyes out for that. Also tension between Whiskey and reader rises in this part!

Also hi! I’m back! I’ve been dealing with a lot the past couple months hence the silence but I’m back and planning on still working on NAWD. I can’t promise consistent uploads but I’ll try my hardest. Hope you guys understand ❤️ 

Warnings: cursing, suggestive comments, A KISSS????

Word Count: 1,821

Not A Whiskey Drinker Masterlist

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Although you had nothing to do til your “meeting” with Whiskey at 9, you decided that you would still do a mini workout in the morning. Instead of your standard 6am with Whiskey you opted for a reasonable 8am. You walked into the sparring room and taped up your hands, prepping yourself for some boxing practice. Before you started you hit shuffle on the music app on your phone, sound blaring through the speaker and filling the room. Losing yourself in the music you started hitting the flat of your knuckles into the punching bag in front of you.

Around 10am Whiskey strode through the halls of the Statesman office. Walking by the sparring room he stopped and looked through the window. The faint sound of music came through the thin glass. He watched as you rhythmically hit the punching bag, your form was perfect. Whiskey smiled, proud of the progress you had made in only a few short days.

He opened the door to the sparring room and was immediately hit with a wall of music, lyrics loud and bass thumping in his ears. Thanks to the volume you didn’t realize that Whiskey was standing in the room, leaning against the closed door and watching.

A minute later the song ended and you stopped, pausing the music to get a drink of water. Whiskey cleared his throat, causing you to jump at the sound.

“Wouldn’t wanna be that punching bag.” said Whiskey.

“Whiskey you are a punching bag.” Once again he placed his hand over his heart and repeated the phrase he so loved to tell you,

“You’re breaking my heart darlin’.”

You just rolled your eyes and started hitting the bag again, this time the only sound that filled the room was the smack of your fists on the bag.

“I like the song that was playing. What’s it called?”

“Fire and Gasoline by Sia.” you said between grunts.

“Good lyrics, kinda sexy.”

You stopped, holding the bag so it wouldn’t swing. You thought about the music video for the song and the handsome man that starred in it, his face eerily similar to Whiskey’s.

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You looked yourself over in the mirror in your room. You put on the dress that you brought with you and some comfortable shoes. The dress was shorter than your standard work skirts and dresses and showed off a little more skin. Hopefully it would help with the whole seduction thing. You chuckled softly to yourself.

The more I learn about Statesman the more similarities between this and cliche spy movies — down to the seduction as a tactic, you thought.

Taking a deep breath and squaring your shoulders back you made your way to the bar located on the Statesman property. You were mentally going through different ways you could get information out of Whiskey. Apparently Whiskey was posing as head of firearms cartel, smuggling illegal weapons into the states. You weren’t sure exactly what information you were trying to obtain, but you were determined to get information nonetheless.

Walking into the bar you quickly scanned the room to see if Whiskey was already there. Low and behold Whiskey was sitting in the back at a table nursing a whiskey, no surprise there. You smirked as he looked up from his drink and made sure you swayed your hips as you made your way to the bar.

You ordered a drink and slowly sipped at it, occasionally looking back to Whiskey’s table. He had been staring at you the entire time. Downing the rest of your drink you ordered a second one. You needed some liquid courage to do this.

Go time.

Picking up your drink you sauntered over to Whiskey’s table.

“This seat taken cowboy?” you asked, nodding your head towards the empty chair.

“It is now.” Whiskey’s eyes lit up as you slid into the seat across from him.

“Now I gotta ask, is it true that everything’s bigger in Texas?” you took a sip from your drink, licking the alcohol off your lips.

“Oh darlin’ I ain’t from Texas, but I assure you I’m just as big as they are in Texas.” he winked, eyes glancing down at your lips.

“Tell me about yourself Mr.?”

“Pascal.” Whiskey reached out his hand and you grabbed it, but before you could shake his hand he brought it to his lips and softly kissed your knuckles.

“Well Mr. Pascal you’re quite the charmer. Tell me, what does a modern day cowboy do for work?”

Get him to talk about himself, focus the conversation on him.

“I’m a businessman and yourself darlin’?”

Quickly you wracked your brain for a suitable job. PA was too easy and you wanted to pick something that you could easily spew information about, but still didn’t draw too much attention.

“Getting my masters in art history.”

Thankfully your mother worked at a museum as curator and you’d picked up plenty of information from her over the years.

“Attractive and smart. Just how I like ‘em.”

“Mr. Pascal you flatter me.” you said, reaching out to playfully swat his hand. “But tell me about you. I’m sure you’re quite a successful businessman.”

“Ah well,” Whiskey rubbed his neck with his hand. “I do my best.”

Was Whiskey blushing?

“I deal with quite valuable products and the transference of them.”

This information you knew, so there was no reason to press him about that.

“Are you able to travel a lot for work?” you took another sip, looking at Whiskey over the rim of your glass.

“Places far and wide for certain.”

“What’s your favorite place you’ve been?”

Whiskey took a drink and pondered the question. You were certainly doing a good job, asking the right questions but not prodding too much. The seduction aspect was certainly impressive too, if he wasn’t already attracted to you he’d certainly be into you by now.

“Macau. Definitely was an interesting time.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

“I’m sure it was Mr. Pascal.”

“I never caught your name darlin’.”

“Mel.” you said, giving him a random name.

“Well Miss Mel, I’d love to get to know you better. As much as I like the drinks at this establishment I have quite the whiskey collection back at my house.”

You smiled, putting your glass down.

“As much as I’d like that Mr. Pascal I’m afraid I’m not a whiskey drinker.”

“Ah well, maybe you’ll learn to love it.” he said, winking at you.

You smiled and pushed your chair back to leave, having gotten the information you needed.

“You did good darlin’.” came Whiskey, making you stop. “Got valuable information through some sweet talking. I’m impressed.”

You turned to face Whiskey. He was sitting back in his chair, arms crossed, a smile on his face.

“Men are all the same, makes it easy for me.” you said with a shrug, sitting back in the chair.

“I was serious about my offer.”

“What offer?” you cocked your head, confusion crossing your face.

“My place. Now I know you’re not a whiskey drinker but I did notice your penchant for gin and tonics and I like to think I’m quite the bartender. If you’ll let me that is.”

Whiskey was serious. He wanted you to come to his place. Admittedly the thought sent warmth spreading across your body. Images of Whiskey walking through his room shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his body and hair tousled ran through your mind. Blinking you shooed the image away. You did love a gin and tonic though…

“Fine. No funny business.”

“Sugar I’m a cowboy not a rodeo clown.”

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You and Whiskey made your way back to his room in the secret HQ. Stepping in you realized that he had a completely different set up than yours. While your room only had the bedroom and the small adjoining bathroom, he had a full bar and living room as well.

“If you keep that mouth open any longer you’ll start catching flies.” said Whiskey, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back. “Perks of being a senior agent.”

Whiskey motioned to the couch that sat in the middle of the room as he made his way to the bar. He shucked off his leather jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. You couldn’t help but stare at the veins that trailed along his forearms. A look of concentration came across his face as he measured out the proper ingredients for the drinks, his arms and hands flexing. As you watched Whiskey work you were entranced. He looked up as he added a finishing garnish to the drinks and caught your eye, returning your gaze with a wink.

“Darlin’.” he said, placing a drink in your hand and raising his glass to meet yours.

You gave him a silent nod and took a sip, a soft moan escaping your mouth. You were too focused on how good the drink was to notice Whiskey almost choking on his.

“Okay I admit, that’s a damn good gin and tonic.”

“I don’t like to brag unless it’s warranted.”

“Oh shut up you show pony.” snorting at the man.

The next thirty minutes were filled with the most civil exchanges between you and Whiskey since he came to your rescue in the park, the two of you were getting along. Neither of you were paying attention, but over the half hour both of you ended up closer and closer to each other on the couch. At this point your knees were practically touching.

“Right in front of me!” Whiskey was telling you one of the many stories where his attempt at using seduction did not go as planned.

You laughed at failure of Whiskey and his escapades, your hand lightly smacking his chest and resting there. He placed his hand over yours and looked in your eyes, licking a drop of his drink from his bottom lip. You felt your stomach flip. You knew his eyes were brown but they had a level of dimension you had never noticed before. Had his mustache always been that perfectly groomed? And his lips—

You snapped yourself out of it, realizing how close you were to kissing your boss, your boss that you did not like.

“Uh it’s getting pretty late I should get going. Thank you for the drink.” you said, removing your hand from his chest. Giving him a small smile you left his quarters and made your way back to your smaller room.

As the door closed behind you Whiskey slumped into his couch and let out a deep sigh. He knew it was wrong to have feelings for someone who he’d known for essentially two weeks but there was something about you that he couldn’t help but fall for. He had his chance in the park but he didn’t take it. Maybe this was the universe giving him a second chance with you.

taglist: @absurdthirst @space-daddy-owns-me @agentwhiskeypussyindulgence @littlemissoblivious @agingerindenial @mack4676 @loveforminato @thats-one-tender-foot @xwingsandohs @purplepascal042 @harami-mami @nova646 @lesbianlena @computeringturtle @cassandras-nest @fourtypercent0ff @demoneyesanddamagedsouls @whatsthatmysterioustickingnoise

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Okay so I wanna write a fic based off the lyrics from Time of the Season by The Zombies:

What's your name? (What’s your name?) Who's your daddy? (Who's your daddy?) (He rich?) Is he rich like me?

Should this be for Agent Whiskey, Javier Peña, or Maxwell Lord? I’m also open to other suggestions/ideas based off this concept. 

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Not A Whiskey Drinker Pt. 5

Author’s Note: Okay I’m having so much fun writing this and I think this is my favorite chapter so far. I’m still looking for a beta reader/someone to bounce ideas off of btw!

Warnings: some sexual tension, anxiety, more suggestive comments from Whiskey

Word Count: 2,836 (these chapters just keep getting longer oops)

Not A Whiskey Drinker Masterlist

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As you stood in front of your closet you contemplated what to pack. The two of you were going to be away for a week but Whiskey never bothered to tell you what to bring or what the two of you would be doing. You assumed it would be some sort of training but everything you knew about secret agent training was from Bond movies. You decided on some workout clothes, a pair of jeans that were comfortable but you could still move in, random shirt, sports bra, and a thick jacket. Last minute you added a standard work outfit and a cute dress just in case. Your packing was interrupted by your phone ringing.

“Hey Parker.” you said, answering the call and pressing the speaker button so you could continue with your packing.

“What’re you doing this coming Friday? My parents are coming to visit and they miss you!”

“Oh I have to go on a work trip with Whiskey.”

“So you guys have nicknames for each other now huh?”

“It seems to be a rite of passage to have an alcohol related nickname at this company.”

“Is it also a rite of passage to go on a work trip with you boss?”

“Parker it’s not like that. He just needs me to trail him during some normal meetings. It’s the same thing as here but just at the Kentucky branch.” you recited the coverup that Whiskey had told you.

“Ugh I swear to god if you don’t make a move on this man I will.”

“I don’t know how your boyfriend would feel about that.”

“You know I’m joking. Just stay safe hm?” Parker said, without realizing how accurate her words were. You definitely took into account the possibility of coming back to the city with a couple new bruises.

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

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Your anxiety for the rest of the weekend was higher than you wanted considering you had no idea what to expect to happen on the trip. It didn’t help that you hated flying. Hopefully you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself in public. But considering it was Monday morning at 5:30 and you were making your way to Whiskey’s apartment you really didn’t have time to focus on your phobia.

You knew that Whiskey would have to live in a fancy building considering the part of the city he lived in, but stopping in front of one of the nicest brownstones you had ever seen was still a shock. Putting your bag down you pressed the doorbell and waited. Swinging open the door there stood Whiskey.

“Ready darlin’?”

“As ready as I can be I suppose.”

After hailing a cab and starting the drive to the airport the two of you sat in silence. Surprisingly, it didn’t feel awkward. You welcomed the comfortable quiet considering it was still early. Eventually the cab pulled up to the airport and the two of you made your way through security. It wasn’t until you were sitting at your gate that your anxiety started to bubble up again, your leg bouncing. Suddenly a warm hand was place on  top of your thigh, stopping your anxious tic.

“Nervous?”

“I have a fear of flying.” you said quietly, not looking at Whiskey.

“Don’t worry darlin’ I’ll be here the whole time. You can hold my hand if you need.” said Whiskey in a calming voice. You were surprised he wasn’t being flirty about it. Hearing this comforted you. Whiskey didn’t remove his hand from your thigh til you had to board the plane.

You sat down in your seat and took a deep breath as the flight attendant starting going through the safety procedures, the plane rumbling as it made its way down the tarmac. Closing your eyes you braced yourself for takeoff. You were pretty much okay during flights minus takeoff, landing, and turbulence. Whiskey noticed your hand firmly gripping the arm rest and reached over to grab it. He gave your hand a quick squeeze. You welcomed the gesture, knowing he was doing it out of kindness.

“I’m right here darlin’. You can squeeze my hand as tight as you need.”

Overall the flight was pretty smooth, only hitting turbulence once or twice. Even though the flight wasn’t as bad as you were expecting, you never let go of Whiskey’s hand.

“You did it.” said Whiskey, smiling at you once the plane landed.

The old lady who shared the trio of seats with you two leaned over.

“You two make an adorable couple.” she said. “Reminds me of my youth.”

You couldn’t help the blush that crept up your neck. You corrected her, but as Whiskey stood up to grab his bag from the overhead container she leaned in close. 

“With the way that man looks at you he sure as hell wants more with you than whatever your current relationship is.”

Grabbing your bags the two of you made your way out the airport. Outside stood a man, also in a cowboy hat, that you recognized from the meeting Whiskey had you sit in on.

“Tequila.” he said, stretching out his hand.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you.” you said, taking his hand and giving it a shake.

“Oh the pleasure is all mine.” as he gave a wink.

Whiskey gave Tequila a firm pat on the back and put your bags into the back of the car and off you were to Statesman Brewery, Kentucky location. You were staring out the window, you had never been to Kentucky before. Sure it didn’t have as much to look at as New York, but you were still interested nonetheless.

“So Y/N,” said Tequila, looking at you through the rearview mirror. “I heard you’re stuck with this old man.”

“Yeah well this old man still has some moves.”

“Is every agent here a caricature of a cowboy?” you said, meeting Tequila’s gaze in the mirror.

“I have a feeling you’ll fit right in.” Tequila flashed you a bright smile.

The rest of the car ride was filled with Tequila and Whiskey chatting and catching up. You occasionally chimed in to make a snarky comment at Whiskey’s expense, Tequila consistently laughing at your remarks.

“I am not an old man Tequila! I still got it.”

“Well how old are you?” you asked.

Whiskey coughed and mumble some number in the late 30s/early 40s.

“And when did you last get it?” said Tequila.

You laughed loudly at Tequila’s joke. He seemed to have the same penchant for taking the piss at Whiskey. Whiskey looked at you through the rearview mirror, your eyes were shut tight, mouth open with the most beautiful laughter coming from it. Sure he’d heard you laugh before, but never this deeply. He’d suffer through thousands of Tequila’s insults just to hear you laugh like that again.

The car stopped and you got out, looking up at the building in front of you.

“A whiskey bottle? Really?”

“Come on, I’ll show you to where you’ll be staying.” said Tequila, motioning for you to follow him. Grabbing your bag you trailed Tequila to a cellar filled with barrels.

“I hope I’m not staying here.” Tequila just smiled and revealed a secret door. Below the cellar was the most high tech space you had ever seen. Everything was white and silver — it looked like a scene out of a sci-fi movie.

“This is where you’re staying.”

Tequila walked down the halls, smirking at the way you ogled at your surroundings. Making a sharp turn the two of you stopped at a door. Opening the door you were greeted by a simple room that had the same color scheme as the rest of the building. It was sleek and modern and felt like the nicest hotel room you had ever stayed in. Placing your bag on the floor you padded over to the bed and experimentally pushed the mattress with your hands. It felt expensive.

“Like the place?” came the drawl that you recognized as Whiskey’s. You had to admit that Tequila’s accent was attractive, but it was nothing compared to Whiskey’s deep baritone.

“Come on it’s time to meet Champ.”

Swallowing you followed Whiskey and Tequila out of the secret doors and into the main building to the top floor. It felt like deja vu. The three of you reached a set of wooden double doors. Inside was a nice boardroom that reminded you of the one in New York, but nicer, if that was even possible. At the head of the table sat an older man in a brown cowboy hat who you could only assume was Champagne.

“So this is the new recruit eh?” said Champagne, standing and striding over to shake your hand.

“Thank you for considering me Mr. Champagne.” you said, grabbing his hand and giving it a firm shake.

“Oh just call me Champ. Come sit, we have some information to discuss. Whiskey, Tequila, if you could give the two of us some privacy.” he said, waving his hand to dismiss the men.

As the doors closed behind Whiskey and Tequila, the younger man spun around.

“She’s somethin’ else Whiskey.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“If you don’t make a move I will.” replied Tequila, leading against the wall with a glint in his eyes, eyebrows raising. Whiskey’s jaw tightened, his hands making tight fists. “Wish I was training her.”

Whiskey rolled his eyes at the remark and waited outside the boardroom for you to finish with Champ. Fifteen minutes later the door opened to reveal Champ, a wide smile on his face.

“Ah, Whiskey you’re still here, perfect. Come on in.”

Whiskey followed him and sat down in the chair across from you. Taking a seat with a grunt Champ turned to Whiskey.

“I have to admit while I was originally… apprehensive about your suggestion to have her as an agent she surprised me.” you smiled at the compliment. “She’s quite the charmer, a spitfire too.”

“Don’t I know it.” muttered Whiskey.

“While I do like you quite a bit,” Champ said, turning to face you. “I’ll still have to see how you are in action. You start training with Whiskey tomorrow. 6am sharp.”

You swallowed. You were not an early riser and the thought of having to do what was most likely going to be the toughest workout of your life at such an early time created a pit in your stomach. It was in this moment that you realized this was real.

“Come on darlin’. I gotta show off a bit before we see what you’re made of tomorrow.”

You and Whiskey left the boardroom, you gave Champ and small wave and he smiled back.

“I like Champ a lot, reminds me of my grandpa.”

“Champs a good guy. Bit stubborn, but you’re no stranger to that concept.”

“Shut up.” you said, giving Whiskey a little shove.

Whiskey and you returned to the secret entrance and walked through the underground offices. You were met with a room the size of a basketball court that had a huge window so you could see inside from the hallway. Walking inside Whiskey positioned you at one end of the room and made his way to the other end.

“Now I want you to stay right here.”

Opening one of the lockers that resided in the sparring room he grabbed his training lasso. Sauntering back to his original spot his hands tingled and he wiggled his fingers. He always got a surge of excitement when the opportunity to use his lasso and whip arose. Slowly he started to spin the rope, a circle forming. The rope circle rose as it spun and in a flash the rope was around your mid section. With a sharp pull you were dragged towards Whiskey, luckily he caught you before you could fall forward, your hands stuck in the rope. Whiskey smirked.

“Deja vu darlin’.” He pulled the rope over you head and you were freed.

“Wow.”

“I’m quite handy with a rope. Now,” he took off his Stetson, placing it on your head. It was a little big on you and you had to tip it back slightly so it didn’t block your vision. “I want you to go back to your spot and don’t move.” Whiskey’s eyes darkened with the serious tone. You swallowed and nodded your head, unsure of what was about to happen.

Once again his hands started to tingle. As much as he enjoyed his lasso, his whip is where his love truly resided. Cracking his neck he grabbed the hand attached to his hip and quickly released the rope that was positioned snug inside the mechanism.

The whip cracked loudly and your eyes widened. Whiskey smirked at your response, the usual reaction to people seeing him use his weapon for the first time. Raising his eyebrows he cracked the whip once again. You felt a whoosh of air next to your face, the crack sounding loud in your ear and suddenly the hat he had placed on your head was laying on the floor next to you. Your jaw dropped. You weren’t going to tell Whiskey, but there was a warmth that spread to your abdomen. He was hot. Whiskey just smiled and walked over to pick up his hat, placing it back on his head.

“Tomorrow, here, 6am just as Champ said.” the sound of Whiskey’s voice broke your trance. “We’ll do some simple sparring and see how you fare.”

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You groaned at the sound of your alarm clock stirring you from your sleep. You dreamt of whips and cowboy and the distinct smell of Whiskey and something you couldn’t quite place. Pushing the button to stop the blaring of your phone you glanced down.

5am.

Sighing you pulled on a pair of leggings, your sports bra, and a tight shirt that wouldn’t get in the way of your movement. Making your way to the small cafeteria that was housed near your room you made yourself some breakfast and of course, a cup of tea. At 5:50 you made your way to the sparring room, mentally prepping yourself for whatever Whiskey had in store.

You were greeted by the backside of Whiskey. You were surprised by his appearance. Instead of jeans or a suit he was wearing some shorts and a tight t shirt, cowboy boots replaced by sneakers and hat nowhere to be seen. Whiskey could feel your eyes searing into the back of his head. Spinning around he greeted you with a smile.

“See something you like?”

“Sorry,” you coughed. “I guess I was just expecting the standard get up from you.”

Whiskey just shrugged and before you knew it you were on your back, the wind knocked out of you.

“Whiskey what the fuck.”

“Gotta be prepared darlin’.”

Taking a deep breath you stood back up and rushed the man. The two of you grappled for a bit. Admittedly, Whiskey wasn’t expecting you to stay upright as long as you had, but once again he gained the upper hand and knocked you down. You came face to face with Whiskey, his weight pushing into you. You narrowed your eyes and quickly flipped Whiskey on his back, straddling him and pinning his arms. His eyes widened, a surge of arousal running through his body.

“Got ya.” you said with a proud smile.

The next few hours were spent with more sparring. Whiskey teaching you proper form, how to sweep your opponent’s legs, and some boxing moves. Of course you took a break for lunch and several pauses for water. Around 4pm you were exhausted, a sheen of sweat covering your body. Without thinking you pulled off your shirt to use it as a towel, exposing your sports bra underneath.

“Didn’t know I was gonna get a show.” said Whiskey. You threw your shirt at his face.

“You’ve seen me in less. Shut up.”

Whiskey chuckled, remembering the sight of you wrapped in a towel and he tossed the shirt back to you.

“Well it seems like we’re done for the day. Same time tomorrow, same thing.”

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The next couple days were spent the same way. You met Whiskey in the sparring room at 6am, grappled for a bit, took a lunch break, did some more practice, and ended around 4. You groaned at the end of today’s practice. Your shoulder feeling sore from a punch Whiskey threw.

“Same thing tomorrow?” you asked, rotating your arm trying to loosen your arm up.

“We’ll meet at 9,” you furrowed your brow, confused by the added three hours. “pm.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“We’re starting a new lesson.”

“At 6pm?” You shook your head. “I don’t follow, why would we spar that late in the day?”

“Not sparring sugar, seduction.” you shivered at the way the word rolled off his tongue.

“What?”

“Fighting isn’t the only way to get information. You’ll meet me at the bar tomorrow and you’ll try to get information out of me using your feminine charm.”

You blinked, shocked by Whiskey’s words.

“See you then. And remember: I’m not Whiskey tomorrow, just another adversary.”

And with that Whiskey left you standing in the middle of the room, mouth wide open.

taglist: @absurdthirst @space-daddy-owns-me @agentwhiskeypussyindulgence @littlemissoblivious @agingerindenial @mack4676 @loveforminato @thats-one-tender-foot @xwingsandohs @purplepascal042 @harami-mami @nova646 @lesbianlena @computeringturtle @cassandras-nest @fourtypercent0ff @demoneyesanddamagedsouls

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Not A Whiskey Drinker Masterlist

Summary: After being fired from your job as a personal assistant at a fancy marketing company you thought your time in New York City was done for. Your way of thinking gets turned around however when you get a job offer from Statesmen Brewery. What happens though when you’ve already met your boss? ONGOING

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 (coming soon) 

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IF BEALE STREET COULD TALK (2018) PEDRO PASCAL as Pietro Alvarez

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Pedro Pascal promoting The Mandalorian Entertainment Weekly 2019

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Not A Whiskey Drinker Pt. 4

Author’s Note: Okay so I got a bit carried away with this chapter but I couldn’t help myself so it’s about twice as long as previous chapters. This is where things really start to get more plot based so the story will really get moving from here. The way I’ve planned out the plot so far though it’ll be several chapters long so get buckled up!

Warnings: mild cursing, suggestive language, Jack “Whiskey” Daniels needs his own warning

Length: 2,586 words

Not A Whiskey Drinker Masterlist

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“She almost broke the man’s arm Champ!” said Whiskey, phone to his ear.

“I don’t care. If you’re exaggerating this skill of hers she’ll be a liability.”

“She won’t be a liability!” Whiskey was seething at this point. Yes it had only been a few days, but somehow he had become protective over you. Seeing you twist the man’s arm back at the bar lit a fire somewhere deep inside his stomach. Whiskey heard a sigh through the phone.

“Fine. You’re training her and she’ll be your responsibility. Don’t fuck it up Whiskey.”

With that Champagne hung up. Whiskey was buzzing with excitement. With the combination of your quick wit and your apparent hand to hand combat skill you were definitely capable of becoming an agent with the Statesmen.

The ding of the elevator stirred Whiskey from his thoughts. Strutting out of his office he quickly caught up to you.

“Whiskey.”

“Mornin’ Y/N. How’s my lovely little lady today?” you rolled your eyes and shook your head, continuing towards your office. Along with your normal bag you had also brought a tote bag that contained some office necessities. After setting your bags down you pulled out an electric tea kettle and made your way towards a shelf to find a spot for it.

“Y/N think fast!” came Whiskey’s voice as he threw the mug that sat on your desk. You quickly spun around and caught the mug before it could smash on the floor.

“You’re the absolute worst.”

“Not a coffee drinker either?” Whiskey said, eyeing the variety of teabags you pulled from your tote.

“Nope. Coffee is a slap in the face. Tea feels like a hug.”

Whiskey gave his standard full body laugh.

“You really are somethin’ darlin’.”

“Out.” you said, ushering him out of your space. “Come back if you need me.”

“Ya know if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re the boss and I’m the assistant.” Whiskey leaned against the door frame as he said this.

“Whiskey…” you said with a grumble, trying to push him from the door, but the man wasn’t budging. Bending down he whispered in your ear,

“I am a mighty fan of switching up the dynamic every once in a while.” he said and you could almost feel his smirk against your skin.

“Out!” and you shut the door on his face.

‘I swear to god this man will be the death of me.’

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

The rest of the day was fairly standard. Random errands Whiskey needed, picking up lunch, sorting through notes, etc. The only difference between today and the previous was the fact that Whiskey kept throwing things at you any chance he got.

“So I organized these files and highlight all the—“ Before you could finish your sentence you looked up as a pen, a baseball, and a full bottle of whiskey were flying at you. Quickly you caught them all and managed to keep the files you were holding in your hands as well.

“Whiskey what the fuck?”

Initially it felt like Whiskey’s standard teasing, but at this point it was ridiculous and was getting on your nerves. If you didn’t catch the whiskey bottle it would’ve made a huge mess and you were most likely the one who would have to clean said mess.

“Wouldn’t have thrown ‘em if I knew you weren’t gonna catch ‘em.” said Whiskey from behind his desk, propping his feet up on the wood and stretching his arms behind his head.

You were too focused on the files when you entered his office that you didn’t realize Whiskey had taken off his blazer and tie. He was wearing his standard white dress shirt and some suspenders. He had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows and you couldn’t help but stare at his tanned arms. You didn’t realize how much muscle the man had. You shook your head.

“Why do you keep throwing shit at me?”

“Oh darlin’,” Whiskey stood up and pulled the bottle of whiskey and the baseball out of your hands, set them down on his desk and leaned on the wooden table. “just testing your reflexes and reaction time.”

“Ginger was right.”

“Hmm?” said Whiskey, pulling his suspenders off his shoulders and popping open the bottle of whiskey. You stared as he brought the bottle to his lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he took a swig. He licked his lips and you felt a shiver run through your body.

“I’m waiting darlin’.” he said with a smirk. He knew you were staring. He had made sure you were staring.

“She said you were a character.”

“I have been called larger than life.”

“Uh, anyways here are the files.” Reaching out to hand the files to your boss, his hand met yours and once again the two of you froze. The only movement coming from the room was the rise and fall of your chests and Whiskey’s thumb making slow circles on the back of you hand.

“Jack I— oh.”

You immediately moved your hand and Whiskey took the files from you at the sound of Ginger’s voice.

“Sorry.” said Ginger, giving you an apologetic look. “Champ gave me some…” Ginger paused, looking for the right word. “updates — classified updates — that you need to hear Jack.”

“Guess that’s my cue.” you said, making your way out of the office.

“Get home safe Y/N.” said Whiskey giving you a smile. Your heart fluttered in response.

‘Stop. You cannot have feelings for your boss. Especially Whiskey.’

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It was finally Friday after work and to say you were exhausted was an understatement. The rest of the week had been pretty straightforward minus some odd behavior from Whiskey. He continued to randomly throw things at you or ask seemingly random questions.

‘How quickly can you run a mile?’

‘About 7 and a half minutes.’

‘Ever got in a fist fight?’

‘No, but I’ve prevented some from starting.’

‘How flexible are you?’

That question you decided to ignore. There was one question, however, that kept replaying in your mind over and over again.

‘Have you ever shot a gun?’

When he asked the question you stopped in your tracks. Sure he was from the South so he most definitely had experience with firearms but you? Nope. Frankly, guns scared the shit out of you. Why did he want to know?

‘No. My dad and brother would go to shooting ranges occasionally but never took me. But if they asked I would’ve said no.’

You pondered his reasoning for all these questions as you took a shower. The questions could’ve been an attempt to get to know you better but they were nothing along the lines of ‘where did you grow up?’ ‘do you have any pets?’ or ‘what’s your favorite color?’. You were stirred from your thoughts by a knock at the door.

Parker.

“One second!” you called, stepping out of the shower and pulling a towel around yourself. You rushed to the door leaving a small trail of wet footprints behind you.

“You really had the audacity to knock while I was—“

“Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes.” came a thick accent. Your eyes widened immediately and you swallowed.

“Whiskey?”

“You gonna let me in darlin’?”

You were too shocked to do anything other than follow his request. Stepping aside to allow him to enter you shut the door behind you.

“Nice place. Nice getup too.” he said with a wink.

You were suddenly hyperaware of the current state of your appearance. Your hair was dripping wet and you were naked other than a much too small towel wrapped around yourself. Your boss (your very attractive boss) was in your apartment and you were essentially naked.

“One second.” you said, and ran back to the bathroom to change into the clean clothes you pulled from your closet before. Throwing on your sleep shorts and a large shirt you stormed out of the bathroom to confront Whiskey.

“Firstly, how the hell did you get my address and secondly, why the fuck are you here?”

“Firstly,” said Whiskey, putting his hands on your shoulders attempting to make you calm down. “I told you we did a background check. And secondly,” he guided the two of you over to your small couch and placed a plastic bag on your coffee table. “I brought dinner.” You narrowed your eyes and glared at him.

“What is it?” your voice still tinged with anger.

“Sushi.”

After a minute you responded.

“Okay fine you can stay.”

Whiskey took several boxes of sushi out of the bag and all your favorites were there. Your mind was doing flips to figure out much all this costed. Sushi was not cheap, especially from the restaurant he got it from.

“How’d you know sushi is my favorite?”

“Background checks.”

“Okay now I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.” Whiskey just gave you a smile and dug into the food. The two of you ate in silence. While scarfing down your sushi as politely as possible, it had been a long time since you had your favorite food, you observed the man next to you. He still had his black Stetson and black cowboy boots, but his slacks and blazer had been replaced by some tight fitting jeans and a matching denim jacket. The same camel coat he wore when you first met was hanging on the hook on the back of your door.

“Those gears in your head are turning darlin’.”

“Why’d you actually come here? I doubt it was just to buy me dinner.”

“Straight to business sugar? I do have to admit you’re not wrong about my intentions.” Whiskey pulled off his hat and sat it down on the coffee table. A hand went up to smooth his hair down and he turned to face you directly, a serious look on his face.

“As you’ve probably noticed Statesman Brewery is… different. We are a brewery but we’re also something more. First and foremost we are a secret independent intelligence agency.”

You choked and almost inhaled the gulp of water you were swallowing.

“I know it’s bizarre darlin’ but please don’t hurt yourself,” he said, placing a hand on your knee. “even if I wouldn’t mind doing some CPR on a catch such as yourself.” You gave him the standard look you gave him when he said these types of comments. “I wasn’t just throwing shit at you to scare you and those questions I asked? Bit of a verbal test if you will.”

“Okay now tell me the actual truth.”

“I’m serious Y/N.” his eyes darkened slightly. “You have the makings to be an agent.”

“And you think that because I caught some random crap you threw at me and because I can run a mile slightly faster than the average person?” you leaned against the couch, arms crossed. Whiskey seemed serious about what he was saying, but you weren’t fully convinced yet.

“You were at The Parking Lot on Tuesday.”

“Okay what the fuck are you stalking me now? More ‘background check’ stuff?” you said, making air quotes with your fingers.

“That was pure coincidence. Promise on my late mama’s soul.” Whiskey raised a hand and traced an ‘X’ over his heart. “I saw that ungodly man try to have his way. Was close to stopping things myself before I saw you twist his arm around his back. You were faster than a jackrabbit.”

“You saw that?”

“Sugar, the whole bar saw it. But even if the bar didn’t, I still would’ve. The second I saw you and your friend walk in, well, let’s just say I wasn’t interested in watching the football game anymore.”

Whiskey had been watching you. He saw you act fast and save yourself from that dick at the bar. Subconsciously you pulled your shoulders back and your heart swelled with pride.

“You showed him who’s boss.” Whiskey winked, repeating the phrase that seemed to keep coming up.

“Okay okay so let me get this straight. You’re some sort of secret agent, whose coverup is a business man in the alcohol industry.”

“So far so good sugar.”

“And you’re suggesting that I join this secret intelligence agency?”

“Not so much suggesting as I am insisting but other than that you’re right on the money.”

“Did you hire me as your assistant with the intent of offering me a position as an agent?”

“That, darlin’, was all you. You impressed me that night. Spoke to Champ and Ginger about it and convinced them that you’d be a good agent.”

“Champ and Ginger are agents too?” Your eyes widened. “Is Sara the receptionist one too?” Whiskey laughed at this question and your curiosity.

“No Sara is not an agent. Only a handful of people in the New York and California offices are agents. The rest of them are at the Kentucky branch.”

You paused thinking about your next question and looked down at your hands. You couldn’t help but fidget, anxious about how Whiskey would answer the next question.

“And what if I say no?”

“That’s not really an option.”

You swallowed hard and looked back up to meet Whiskey’s eyes. He had a serious look, but that seriousness slowly melted into something softer. Hope? Encouragement? Something else? He shifted on the couch so his knees touched yours.

“I have seen what you can do. You’ve got reflexes like a cat, almost broke a man’s arm.”

“He deserved it.” you grumbled.

“No arguments there darlin’. You have what it takes. Sure you’re gonna need training and whatnot but you’ll get the best of the best at Statesman. Besides, you’ll have the top teacher we have to offer. Me.” There was that million dollar smile again.

“Okay initially I was on board, but after hearing that I’ll have to spend more time with you? Kill me or dispose of me or whatever the ‘not option’ option is.” You jumped at the intense laugh that came out of the man in front of you.

“Darlin’ you’re breaking my heart.”

“And you’re breaking my sanity.” you rolled your eyes and started to put away leftovers from dinner. When you closed the door to the fridge you heard Whiskey’s voice in your ear.

“You haven’t said no.”

You turned around, practically chest to chest with Whiskey.

“Doesn’t really feel like I have a choice cowboy.” giving him a smirk. Whiskey reached around your waist to grab a pen that was on the kitchen counter. It felt like he was cornering you, but something inside you welcomed it. Whiskey scribbled on the notepad that sat next to the pen, ripped the page off, and pressed the paper into your palm.

“Pack your stuff for a week long trip. Meet me at that location on Monday morning at 6am.”

With that Whiskey turned and grabbed his coat and hat, making his way to the door.

“Sweet dreams darlin’.” he said, tipping his hat and closing the door behind him. You glanced down at the paper. His handwriting was much nicer than you were expecting. All that was on the paper was an address located in a really nice part of the city and a phone number. You could only assume it was Whiskey’s cell phone number. The only other thing on the paper was a small heart with a ‘W’ inside it. You didn’t want to acknowledge it, but seeing that doodle made warmth spread across your chest.

taglist:  @absurdthirst @space-daddy-owns-me @agentwhiskeypussyindulgence @littlemissoblivious @agingerindenial @mack4676 @loveforminato @thats-one-tender-foot @xwingsandohs @purplepascal042 @harami-mami @nova646 @lesbianlena @computeringturtle @cassandras-nest

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H O P E Pedro Pascal for Style Magazine. 

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Pedro Pascal in Triple Frontier

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Okay but I really wanna write something for Frankie/Catfish. Does anyone have any prompts or anything?

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“What the fuck am I gonna do? Stick my finger… It’s not just inside the nose, is it?” “No, Eggsy. It ain’t.”

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Not A Whiskey Drinker Pt. 3

Author’s Note: Okay so Whiskey gets a little spicy towards reader in this part. Will our lovely protagonist fall for it? Who knows! Also quick update: I’m starting my college classes today so it’s gonna be a bit longer between chapters starting now. I’ll try and get a chapter out once a week or every other week.

Warnings: cursing, unwanted touching from gross men, suggestive comments

Word Count: 1,420 (blaze it)

Not A Whiskey Drinker Masterlist

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‘Show him who’s boss. Show him who’s boss.’ you repeatedly thought as you tapped your ID at the front desk. Juggling your box of belongings and bag you waited for the elevator. The doors opened slowly, you entered and pressed the button for the top floor. Just as the door were closing a hand shot through the doors making them open again.

“Well howdy Y/N. You’re here bright an early.” he said, stepping next to you the doors closing behind him.

“Whiskey.”

“Aw darlin’,” he said, pressing his hand to his chest. “you’re breaking my heart. I told you to call me Jack. And I don’t believe I ever told you about that nickname. Should’ve told you earlier if I knew how sweet it would sound coming from you.” You let out a quick breath.

‘Show him who’s boss.’

“Ginger emailed me last night with some information which just so happened to include your nickname. Your first name is carries too much familiarity, and according to what Ginger told me I think you’d appreciate being called Mr. Daniels a little too much.”

Whiskey’s laugh filled the elevator and suddenly you felt claustrophobic. This elevator ride was taking much longer than you hoped it would. Thankfully a second later a ding sounded, letting you know you had arrived at your floor. You strutted out of the elevator and straight to your office.

Fumbling with your arms full you attempted to open the door. Before you could put your box down on the floor and grab the handle, Whiskey was behind you, pushing the door open.

“After you my dear.”

You walked into your office and sat your box down on your table with a huff. You were expecting Whiskey to leave you be but he just sauntered in, closing the door behind him. You raised your eyebrows at the action. Before you could say anything Whiskey sat down on the small settee that was in your office.

“Are you planning on staying?”

“You certainly are a firecracker.” he said with a smirk. “Seems to me like you want some alone time so I’ll leave you be.” And with that he stood up and strode back into his office. You couldn’t help your eyes wandering down his figure to his butt. A damn good butt too. Why’d he have to be so attractive but also annoying. If you were being honest it wasn’t too annoying. Sure, he seemed to have a bit of an ego, but you guessed it just came with the Southern charm he exuded.

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

You spent the next hour setting up your office and getting used to the space. Just as you took a seat behind your desk a knock came. Standing up you opened the door to see Whiskey smiling down at you. Had he always been this tall?

“I got a meeting and want you to come take some notes for me.”

You nodded and grabbed a new notepad and some pens. Following him the two of you entered a large meeting room. It was empty.

“I thought you said that you have a meeting.”

“I do.” he said, handing you a pair of glasses. “Put these on.”

Furrowing your brows you put the glasses on.

“What the fuck.” Suddenly the empty chairs in front of you were filled with what seemed to be holograms.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“This is something out of a Bond movie.” You didn’t notice, but Whiskey smiled to himself.

“I’m guessing this is your new assistant Whiskey?” asked the man at the head of the table.

“Champagne this is the lovely Miss Y/N.” Whiskey gestured you to sit in one of the empty chairs.

“Does everyone here have some nickname?”

“If you’re a good girl maybe you’ll get one of your own.” said Whiskey.

You rubbed your neck trying to hide the flush that creeped up your neck.

“Well Miss Y/N it’s lovely to meet you. This is Tequila.” said Champagne, motioning to the other man present. He tipped his hat at you.

The meeting was mainly focused on whiskey sales, new products, and production. You made sure to write everything down that seemed important. When the meeting was over you returned your glasses to Whiskey retreated to your office.

“Whiskey.” said Champagne before Whiskey could exit the boardroom. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

Whiskey just laughed, making his way to your office.

“You did good.” came a voice that you recognized as Whiskey’s. He was leaning against the doorframe of your office. A distinct swagger to his pose. You rolled your eyes and picked up your notes from the meeting, handing them to your boss.

“Now I happened to notice that your attitude has changed since yesterday. I’m not opposed to this… stubbornness, but I can’t help but wonder what changed?”

You bit your lip, wondering if you should be honest with the man. He seemed to appreciate your fire.

“I’ve dealt with men like you. All bark and no bite. I’ve learned that the best thing is to show them who’s boss.” you said, repeating Ginger’s words.

Whiskey gave a small chuckle and bent down. If he moved any closer you’d swear his lips would brush your ear.

“I assure you darlin’ I can bite if you want.”

And with that, Whiskey left you to your devices.

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

The rest of the workday went by pretty quickly and before you knew it you were back at your apartment. You kicked off your shoes and sat down on your couch sighing deeply. While Whiskey hadn’t needed you much today, there was a lot of introductory things that Ginger needed to run through with you. Before you could fully relax there came a knock at your door.

‘Of course the second I start to relax she shows up.’

Opening your door you were greeted with the sight of Parker giving you a big smile.

“We’re celebrating tonight!”

“Parker it’s a Tuesday.”

“Don’t care. Get changed. We’re going to The Parking Lot.”

You rolled your eyes. One drink never hurt nobody. You changed into your favorite pair of jeans that did wonderful things to your butt, and a long sleeve shirt that showed off your cleavage. Sure, it was just a night out at a bar but Parker insisted you dressed a little sexier than normal.

Entering the bar that the two of you frequented, you guys walked over to the bar to get drinks.

“Hey little lady.” came a voice. You froze as you felt a hand on your back. Looking over your shoulder you were met with some random patron of the bar. You could already tell he was a sleeze ball.

“Can I buy you a drink.” he said, giving you a smirk that told you enough. Slowly his hand started to drift lower and lower. Before his hand reached it’s destination you spun around and grabbed his arm twisting it behind his back. He grimaced clearly in pain.

“Don’t ever touch me or anyone without their consent. Fuck off.” you said through gritted teeth, letting go of the man. He quickly ran off.

“Self defense classes really paying off huh?” said Parker giving you a proud smile.

“Helps that I did jujitsu in college.” you said with a shrug. You didn’t know it, but all the way at the back of the bar, hidden in shadow sat a cowboy, watching the entire scene play out in front of him. He smirked, impressed by the display and took another sip of his whiskey. Statesmen brand of course.

You and Parker made your way to an empty table and she immediately began bombarding you with questions.

“Okay tell me everything.”

“I mean overall it was good. The company has crazy technology that I really wasn’t expecting out of a brewing company. The people who work there seem really nice too. My boss on the other hand…”

“Let me guess. Dickbag?”

You paused, trying to find the right words.

“Sort of? I mean he’s overflowing with ego but it seems to stem mainly from the whole ‘Southern hospitality’ trope. You can’t imagine some of the flirty things he said today.”

“Ooooh workplace relations! Juicy.”

“Parker I’m not gonna date my boss. Yeah I have to admit that he’s hot as hell, but he plays everything up. I’m his assistant and that’s where things end for me.”

“Maybe for you but who knows where things end for Mr. Daniels.” she wiggled her eyebrows.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah but you love it.”

Taglist: @absurdthirst @space-daddy-owns-me @agentwhiskeypussyindulgence @littlemissoblivious @agingerindenial @mack4676 @loveforminato​ @thats-one-tender-foot​ @xwingsandohs @purplepascal042

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PEDRO PASCAL as Francisco “Catfish” Morales TRIPLE FRONTIER (2019), dir. J.C. Chandor

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Okay I’ve finished chapter 4 and would really like someone to read both chapter 3 and 4 to give me some feedback! Please dm me or send me an ask or a response to this post if you’re interested. 

Hey would anyone be interested in beta reading Not A Whiskey Drinker? I have some ideas for the next few chapters and I’d love to have someone to bounce them off of. Please send me a message if you’re interested. I’m really only looking for one or two people. 

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Hey would anyone be interested in beta reading Not A Whiskey Drinker? I have some ideas for the next few chapters and I’d love to have someone to bounce them off of. Please send me a message if you’re interested. I’m really only looking for one or two people. 

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Hey everyone! My askbox is open so feel free to send me questions. They can be about anything -- Not A Whiskey Drinker, requests, questions about me. I’m open to anything! 

-- Irene