#Jack Daniels fanfiction

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Pressing

Jack Daniels x F!Reader, dude ranch AU

A Palomino oneshot, but can be read on its own

{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E

Summary: Jack marks you as his in an unexpected way.

Warnings: PWP, Jack's belt leaves an impression on reader's skin, unintentional branding, unprotected sex, long-distance relationship, desperate and feral cowboy, no physical descriptions of Reader, very lightly edited, written as part of the Palomino universe, set after the end of the series, but can be read as a oneshot on its own

Word count: 1.4k

Notes: This little story came from an ask sent in by 🐴 anon in December 2022, which I have long lost, about a song that mentions a guy’s belt buckle leaving marks on his girlfriend's inner thigh while fucking. Naturally, they thought of Jack’s belt. 🐴 anon, if you’re still here, thank you for the inspo and for your patience ❤️

Also thank you to @lola-lola-lola for getting me horn knee about our cowboy again 😘 Writing Palomino smut first thing in the year was not on my 2024 bingo card, and I’m not mad about it!

Cutest dividers by @firefly-graphics.

It’s been two and a half months. Week after wretched week of phone calls on stolen time. Day after day of aching to reach through the phone screen and the distance between you to touch him.

It’s hard being hundreds and hundreds of miles apart. It’s even harder on weeks when he’s in the mountains with no reception. Harder to find time to call when you have to work late and he has to get up at dawn.

But you endure it all - for days like this. 

It’s a rare weekend off in the high season, with Teak pulling back-to-back pack trips to cover for him, joking that he can’t take all his sighing and pining for his Darlin’ anymore.

Jack takes the last flight out on Friday night, arriving first thing on Saturday morning, before the city - or you - wake up. You’re half-buried under the duvet when the jingle of the key in the door jolts you from shallow slumber.

On unsteady feet, you wobble out into the hallway, crashing into the walls as you go, balance off-kilter from sleep.

But it’s ok - he catches you, all white t-shirt and tight blue jeans. Incognito, if you will, in casual sneakers, but the cowboy hat is on as always. You knock it off post-haste, burying your face in the side of his neck in a desperate need for contact, his warmth seeping into your skin and wrapping you up in the deepest of comforts.

His hair is longer than he usually keeps it, and your fingers twist into his tousled curls when you pull back, taking in the stubble on his sharp jawline, and his tired eyes. But before you can say anything, he leans in and slants his lips over yours.

The taste of airplane coffee is sharp and bitter on his tongue as he kisses you deep and messy. You startle when he suddenly slams the door shut behind him, not realising it was still open, and his beat-up weekend bag is tossed carelessly behind him somewhere in the doorway. 

The legs of the kitchen table scrape jarringly against the floor as he crowds you onto it, big hands cupping your ass and pulling you against his straining erection through his jeans.

‘Fuck, it’s been too long, darlin’.’ His voice is gravelly from an apparently sleepless overnight flight, and hearing his voice finally on the shell of your ear has you whimpering needily.

‘Can’t wait any more,’ he growls, desperation thick in his voice.

With a flick of his wrists, he shucks off your ratty sleep shirt, eyes hooded as he gazes down at your tits, like he can’t believe he’s actually touching you. Cupping them, soft and heavy, with reverent, rope-worn palms, he sucks one nipple after the other between his lips, making you squirm against him and leak wet and sticky between your thighs.

Strong hands hold you in place easily as you buck, the scrape of his moustache almost painful on your over-sensitive skin, nerve endings on fire after being deprived for long weeks. 

Too impatient to wait, you tug your pyjamas shorts down your hips and kick them off clumsily, panties tangled in your damp folds as you writhe under him. 

You feel the breath catch in his broad chest at the peek of your pussy, a rapidly growing damp spot darkening your cotton underwear. Hooking his thumb under the fabric, he tugs it unceremoniously to the side, baring you to him. 

‘Look at all this,’ he marvels, tracing the fleshy pad of his thumb through your folds, making you arch clean off the table. ‘So wet for me and you’ve barely woken up.’

‘Been thinking about you the while night,’ you admit, hips twitching as you chase his touch. ‘Couldn’t sleep.’

‘Did you touch yourself, darlin’?’

You shake your head vehemently. ‘No. Wanted your fingers. Your cock.’

His nostrils flare at your answer, unabashedly possessive in the way he looms over you. 

‘Good girl,’ he murmurs into your throat, nosing the side of your neck while thick fingers thrum against your clit. ‘I was so hard for you the whole fuckin’ flight.’ 

As if to prove it to you - not that you need it - he rolls his hips into your inner thigh, the hard bulge undeniable.

You mewl, hooking your ankles around his waist. ‘Fuck me now, Jack - please.’

There’s a wordless fumble for the solid sterling flask bottle of his belt buckle, his usual level-headed composure nowhere to be found as he pushes down his jeans with shaking hands, just enough to pull his cock out of its denim confines - 

And then he thrusts home inside you.

After months of only your fingers, it’s a stretch. But what a delicious stretch it is.

You feel him throb deep inside you, feel the thunder of a pained groan in his chest, pressed up against yours. Your cunt is all slick and give to his determined strokes as he begins to move. 

There’s no finesse, hardly any awareness, when he fucks frantically into you. His solid weight pins you to the table, and it rattles precariously under your back.

Your legs are splayed obscenely wide and bent at the knees while Jack pounds into your wet heat, eyes wild and mouth hanging open, watching your tits bounce as you take him, your nails digging into the cotton of his white t-shirt. He never did take off your panties, and the fabric rubs your clit just so with every one of his thrusts, rapidly sending you to the edge.

In the back of your mind, you’re aware of the coarse scrape of his jeans against your inner thighs, and something digs hard into the tender skin, the repeated motion dulling the sensation to an almost numb pressure. 

When you cum, you’re crying out before your head catches up, your body convulsing with blind bliss as your pussy clenches around him in a hot rush. The blood pounding in your ears is drowned out by your chants of his name, and then his hips start to stutter and his whole body tenses, frantic eyes on yours as he teeters on the edge. 

‘Where, darlin’?’

‘Inside me.’

The words have barely left you and he’s coming, broken pants against your lips as he comes and comes and comes - spilling inside you, filling you to the brim until he’s empty, turned inside out.

Slumped, boneless on top of you, humid pants pressed into your shoulder, his fingers tangle with yours, squeezing as if to let you know that he’s here.

You almost doze off, the gradually slowing rise and fall of the cowboy’s broad chest a comforting anchor, when he rouses you with gentle lips along your jaw. You giggle, feeling him softening and sliding out of you, making a mess of your kitchen table. 

‘Mornin’ darlin’,’ he says somewhat belatedly, warm eyes crinkling as he smiles at you.

‘Morning,’ you grin back, and when he shifts, you wince at the ache in your joints from being pinned to one spot for this very vigorous wake up call. His hands smooth over your legs in apology, and you jump when his fingertips brush over somewhere at the juncture of your upper thigh that is surprisingly sore.

‘What’s that?’ you ask, puzzled.

Jack doesn’t answer, curiously quiet. You look down to where he’s bracketed between your legs, watching him trace his index finger over the unmistakable imprint of his distinct belt buckle on the inside of your thigh, where it’s been digging into your skin the whole time. 

He glances at you. ‘I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?’

‘No, you didn’t,’ you give him a knowing grin. ‘And are you really sorry, cowboy?’

He doesn’t even have the decency to look sheepish. Gently pinching your swollen folds together, he groans when a milky bead of his cum dribbles out of you, running down the inside of your leg and smearing onto the flask-shaped impression.

‘Ain’t sorry about somethin’ that looks this good on you, darlin’.’

‘Could’ve asked me before you branded me, you know,’ you half-joke, running your own finger along the deep lines carved into your skin, for now.

‘Beggin’ your pardon, I tend to forget my manners when I’m balls deep in a pussy as sweet as yours,’ he retorts, one eyebrow arching when he feels you shiver at his words.

You huff in jest, ‘Doesn’t sound like much of an apology if you asked me.’

‘Whatcha want, darlin’? Me on my hands and knees for you?’

Heat flashes under your skin, from your cheeks down to your toes, and Jack’s eyes darken as his tongue wets his bottom lip. ‘Alright. I hear you loud and clear, ma’am.’

Slowly, he sinks onto his knees in front of you, his joints creaking endearingly as he goes, and you can’t help but tease, ‘Easy there, cowboy.’

The wicked tip of his tongue peeks out, and you bite your lip in a moan when it cleverly traces the outline of the belt buckle on your skin, ending in a playful nip that pulls a gasp from you.

With an unapologetically smug grin, Jack winks. ‘I’m only just gettin’ started, darlin’.’

Note: Thank you for reading ❤️ I’ve missed these two, and if you’re new to Palomino, I hope you’ll give the series a chance!

[tightjeansjavi]

A/N: Brought to you deliciously by @tightjeansjavi @loquaciousferret @peterhollandkait @chaotic-mystery

Summary: ever wonder how it feels for your favorite Pedro Pascal character to go down on you? Well, look no further because the girlies got you covered! Oh, and these men definitely know how to eat it good.

Warnings: this is literally just smut. If you are under 18 do not interact. This is content NOT intended to be consumed by minors. If you interact and I find for you to be underaged, I will be blocking you, no questions asked.

Din Djarin

↳ @loquaciousferret

Din doesn’t get the opportunity to eat you out as much as he would like, purely due to the logistics involved with ensuring it is perfectly dark and to have the time and space to apply a blindfold to you. You honestly don’t mind that it isn’t often, and it seems to frustrates him more than it does you. He is a selfless and generous person and wishes he could take this into the bedroom too.

All this considered, it does mean he really takes his time whenever he does get the opportunity. He will be patient and spend what seems like hours pulling multiple orgasms from you, never stopping until the point where you are the one begging for him to stop and just fuck you.

“Please- Din, please. I need you.”

“You have me, mesh’la. I’m right here.”

You whined, his facial hair tickled at your inner thighs as he spoke gently, his voice sending vibrations through your core.

When he did eventually fuck you after eating you out, the pleasure was intensified for you both. With you blindfolded, he could kiss and worship all of your body, and take in your subtle facial expressions without his visor obscuring his view.

“So beautiful, cyar’ika. I could stay here with you like this forever.” And he truly wishes he could.

Javier Peña

↳ @tightjeansjavi

Javi Peña eats your pussy wherever, and whenever he wants. You could be at the office, legs spread over his desk, his hands deliciously holding your thighs apart as he devours your sweet cunt. Thank god it’s only you two working late hours because your moans are free falling around the room, bouncing off the walls. You can hear him groaning in content at your sweet taste along his tongue. Even as his jaw goes slack, he continues to lap at you, wanting to get every last drop.

Or you’re in your apartment, blissfully whipping up some brownies or cookies to bring into the office, humming whatever tune is playing on the radio. You’re wearing one of Javi’s shirts, and a thin pair of panties. Your hips sway just enough for Javi to notice. You feel his presence looming behind you before he’s sinking down his knees. Your breath is caught in your throat when you feel his hands sneak up the apex of your thighs, prying them apart. “Javi, what are you—” you stumble over your words, gripping the counter tightly when he flattens his tongue against your clothed pussy, tasting you through the thin fabric. “Don’t mind me, cariño. Keep on whisking.”

You feel him hook his thumb along the side of your panties, revealing your slick cunt to him and then he’s completely devouring you, your knees nearly buckle as his nose bumps into your clit. His tongue is absolutely working you into ruin. “Javi, this really isn’t the time—fuck, baby.”

He’d let out a low chuckle against your core, sending warm vibrations up your spine. “There’s never a time more perfect to eat your sweet pussy cariño.” He tsks.

Pre!Outbreak Joel

↳ @chaotic-mystery

Pre!outbreak Joel would eat your pussy whenever and wherever he wanted your aching cunt in his mouth. It didn’t matter if you were in public, that’s why his truck has back seats. All he’d have to do is give you that look and you knew what was coming. Your minimal clothing choices in the Texas heat would make him start looking for secluded places to pull over. His hand would be at the very top of your thigh and he’d squeeze ever so gently causing your breath to hitch. It was the slight risk of getting caught by someone as he’s going to town on his girl, making her squirm and cry out.

He’d push your legs back so your thighs are slightly pinned against your stomach so he can see your dripping wet pussy in all its glory. As soon as your panties hit the floor of the truck, he’d give you a groan as he gets closer to you and admire how wet you already are for him. “Look at this beautiful fuckin’ pussy baby doll. Who got you like this, hm? Tell me sweet girl.” Just as you’re about to answer, he’d flatten his tongue against your clit and start devouring you. He liked seeing how much he can make you work for it while he’s rotting your brain, taking your breath away with his devilish mouth. “Cmon baby, tell me” he’d moan against you trying to aid a response between your moans.

Your fingers would comb through his hair and tug every time he sucked on your clit and shook his head from side to side, scoring a raspy whimper from you. His hand clutching your pillowy breasts and pinching your nipples, causing you to feel a fiery pit in your stomach.

“Joel please I’m gonna cum- don’t stop, just like that, just like that” your sentence growing to barely a whisper as you were right at the edge of releasing. Joel’s tongue would start flicking against your sensitive bud and that was all it took, your legs wrapped around his head as you rode his face, screaming his name. It didn’t stop there, of course. As you’d ride your high and buck your hips against his wet face, his mouth would still be attached to your clit. You’d start turning side to side, trying to back up but he’d wrap his arms around your thighs and pull you as close as he could, moaning into your juices that made your pussy glisten in the sun spilling through the window.

“Where are you goin, darlin'? I’m not full yet” he’d mutter and go right back to licking up your juices, running his tongue along the slick folds and around your clit. You’d push his head away and cry out, begging for a break but he’d grab your wrists, your legs tightening around his head even more. “One more baby cmon one more fuckin time just for me, pretty baby” your body shaking and breathes becoming faster until they sounded like gasps. The shriek of pleasure you let out as your eyes roll to the back of your head, a tear slipping from your eye as your body falls into complete euphoria. Your legs would fall from his shoulders, body still trembling slightly as he’d hover above you and admire his work that was written all over your face.

Post!Outbreak Joel

↳ @tightjeansjavi

Post!Outbreak Joel eats your pussy like it’s solely based around his own survival. How else is he supposed to feel alive, and human without his mouth devouring your cunt? There is no sweeter sound to his ears than mewls he elicits from your pretty little lips from his sinful mouth devouring you. You almost just got bit by a clicker? Cool, drop your pants girlie, because Joel is going to make you forget all about that near death experience in no time!

He prefers to have you on all fours, ass up with your back arched at almost an uncomfortable angle. Your bare pussy, glistening and pulsing through his heated, greedy gaze. You would only briefly feel his hot breath fanning your core. Joel doesn’t like wasting any time, but he loves to hear you beg him just a little. He’s a bit of a biter, and you’d feel his teeth graze the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, causing you to lurch forward on your knees. He’d growl under his breath, wrapping his arm around your stomach and pull you right back to his face. “You stay right where you are darlin’ you hear me?” His mouth would be on you before you’d even get a chance to respond. He loved knocking the air from your lungs. It would take him no time to have you chasing your impending orgasm. His lips would be harshly wrapped around your clit, sucking intensely on your bundle of nerves. His teeth would graze you, and you’d be seeing stars.

His coarse, wiry beard would be scratching deliciously at your sensitive skin. The only time he would pause his sinful actions would be to spit on your already soaked cunt, he’d drag his tongue through his own salvia mixed with your juices before he would be lapping at you again. As soon as you would start to feel that the sensation was too much, your thighs would be quivering as you’d beg him to show you some mercy. “Joel—please I-I—it’s too much. Baby, I can’t—please..” you whined.

“Yes you can, pretty girl. I ain’t fuckin’ done with you yet.” He harshly whispered against your cunt. His beard and chin would already be coated in your arousal but this was never enough for him.

He’d flip you over onto your back, without warning, and grab your ankles in his calloused palms. He’d yank you down so you were beneath him, before he’d be devouring you once more. Your fingers would be desperately fisting his hair, riding into his face, feeling him everywhere. You’d scream his name, loud enough for the entire QZ to hear just how good this man treated you, and your pussy. Even after you would be fully spent, he’d keep his head buried between your thighs, his tongue would slowly be lapping up your release, before he’d press a chaste kiss to your clit. “Always such a good girl for me darlin’ could eat you for every fuckin’ meal.”

Frankie Fransico Morales

↳ @peterhollandkait

Frankie “pussy eating king” Morales

• Frankie starts slow, teasing you with his mouth and fingers on other parts of your body.

• Everyone thinks Frankie is an ass man, but he really truly loves your tits, never getting enough of them.

• He leaves marks and bruises all over them, sucking on your nipples with any chance he can get.

• When he finally moves down to your core, still teasing you, he breathes against your cunt, pressing kisses to your inner thighs.

• He does this until you’re begging him, whining for his touch, which is when he finally gives in.

• Frankie eats you like a man starved, lapping up your juices fervently. He has an arm holding open your thighs, the other pressing two fingers into your entrance, pumping them in and out.

• Every once in a while, he pulls away to whisper words of encouragement against your skin.

• “You like that baby?”

• “You’re doing so good for me gorgeous, taking my mouth so well”

• When his mouth is back on your folds, you’re mewling for him.

• He doesn’t give you a break between your first and second orgasm, sucking on your clit, making the most obscene noises as your pleasure wracks through you again and again.

• When you’re coming down from your second climax, he lays his head on your inner thigh, giving you a pussy drunk smile.

• He’s obsessed with you, never even thinking to touch himself at any point.

• This is all for you, no matter how hard his cock might be

• He puts his mouth back on you, fucking your third orgasm out of you with his tongue.

• He makes you see stars, your head going blank and body feeling weightless. He knows exactly how to manipulate your body to coax the most powerful orgasms from you.

• He learns your cues easily, knowing that your thighs shake before you squirt all over his face, covering him in your juices

• The way you tug on his hair tightly and arch your back before you come, screaming his name

• The echo of your voice on the walls gives him purpose, not hesitating to dive further into you to get what he wants

• Afterwards he puts every effort into making sure you’re comfortable

• He cleans you up with a warm washcloth, tucking you carefully under the covers before he joins you on the other side.

• He doesn’t care about his own pleasure, his only thoughts are to care for you.

Dieter Bravo

↳ @tightjeansjavi

Dieter Fucking Bravo eats your pussy like he’s the president of the pussy eating fan club. He is always absolutely greedy, ravenous to have his face buried against your sweet cunt. He’d have you for breakfast, lunch, dinner, appetizer, and of course dessert. On the occasions that you’d be spending the weekend with him, (literally every weekend) Dieter’s one, and simple request, is that you’d wear no panties around him. So you’d find yourself in his penthouse, wearing one of his expensive tailored shirts, and no panties. You could be doing the most mundane tasks, such as; doing your laundry. You’d be leaned over the open dryer, glistening pussy on full display for him. Next thing you know, his hands are around your hips and hoisting you up onto the dryer, spreading your legs wide open. He’d have a few greedy licks, before he would turn the dryer on, sending sweet vibrations up your core before his mouth and tongue would be fully devouring you. He’d use his pointer and middle finger to spread your slick folds open so you were on full display. He’d fuck your pussy with his tongue dragging it in and out of you before he’d focus all of his attention on your clit. The obscene slurping sounds he would make would drive you wild, and turn your brain to mush. He’d moan into you, shaking his head back and forth as he laps at you. “Mhmmm. Sweetest fucking pussy baby. All mine. Can eat you for fucking days, my sweet sweet girl. Now I’m gonna need you to cum all over my face like the dirty little girl I know you are.” Between the vibrations of the dryer, and Dieter's tongue showing you no mercy, you do just as he says. Screaming out his name while your hips buck up into his face. Even after you're spent, he continues to lap at you before he’s coaxing as many orgasms out of you as you're willing to give him.

He likes eating your pussy when it’s the most inconvenient possible time ever. Usually when you’re on your laptop, typing away. You’re on a writer's block for the next chapter of your 200k smut fic about Poe Dameron. He’s about to go down on the reader, but you’re lacking inspiration. Just as you're clicking the next key, you feel Dieter’s lips pressing to your ankle, he’s on his stomach and you peek over the top of your screen to see his smug face looking up at you. “How’s that chapter coming along baby?” He speaks against your skin, kissing his way up your calf and thigh. “I’m at writer's block. I can’t fucking find the inspiration for this scene. He’s supposed to go down on the reader and—” you give him a warning look as he inches his face closer to your pussy. He shuts the screen to your laptop and places it on the coffee table. You roll your eyes as he’s already hiking your hip up with your foot firmly planted against the side of the couch. “Mmm. This is that trigger happy X-Wing Pilot, right?” You can feel his hot breath fanning your core as he licks his lips. “Yeah, and I really don’t need you—” your mouth falls open when he attaches his lips to your clit, sucking harshly. “Mmm well I can be your inspiration baby. You just pretend I’m that Poe Dameron fellow.” He hums against you, and you can feel his stupid smirk against your pussy. His tongue is lapping you up, swirling and sucking on your clit like you’re his last meal. He switches from fast licks, to slow filthy ones that have you yanking his hair and demanding more. This smug bastard is spelling his fucking name against your soaked pussy because he is absolutely marking what is his. Dieter Bravo is a whore for eating your pussy, and he isn’t ashamed to admit it.

Jack Whiskey Daniels

↳ @loquaciousferret

Agent Whiskey doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth. He prefers something heavy, smokey, fiery. But when it comes to you… Well, that’s different see, because you are the sweet thing he needs a taste of at the end of every long, hard day.

He’ll return home from work, (having been doing god knows what all day), and he’ll find you perched somewhere in the house, sometimes the sofa, sometimes the bed, sometimes on a barstool at the kitchen island. He would seek you out like a missile locked on a target.

He would kiss you first, licking your strawberry lip balm from your lips. When he made his way down, slowly, sucking gently at your neck, he tasted coconut. When he sank to his knees before you, and nestled his head between your thighs, the taste was still sweet as could be, something indescribable and incomparable, something uniquely you. You giggled as he dived in, trying to indulge further, but the wide brim of his hat obstructed his access to you.

He smirked, quickly removing it and reaching up to place it on your head.

“You take care of that, sugar, and let me take care of you.”

He would eat your pussy until you were having to push him away, legs shaking, overstimulated from having come apart on his tongue numerous times. He would barely give you a reprieve until he wanted to start again, pleading with you softly, “Come on sweet girl, I know you got one more for me.”

[ecoamerica]

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[palioom]

day three - hate sex

pairing: jack "whiskey" daniels x f!reader word count: 534 warnings:18+ content; no use of y/n; hate sex duh, insults, degradation, hair pulling, doggystyle, creampie

• kinktober 2023 masterlist •

She hated him, his cocky smile and that stupid fucking dark mustache that stretched over his lips when he grinned. That fucking cowboy hat, his boots. Fuck, she even hated his fucking accent.

She specifically hated his accent. That fucking southern drawl that almost seemed over the top sometimes.

Whiskey always found a way to fuck up a mission and somehow Champ kept insisting on putting them together.

Because they made such an amazing team.

Sure. 

Their trips were fuelled by snide comments and hate, only managing to act up somehow when undercover, stalking after a suspect..

Still, the way he fucked her made up for his attitude, his hips snapping into her harshly, the palm of his hand cracking against her already red ass cheek in quick succession.

That thick, heavy cock of his, hitting her cervix over and over, his thick fingers curling into her hips so hard she would certainly wake up with bruises, moaning and grunting into the pillow in front of her. 

“Take it, c’mon.” He groaned behind her, smacking her ass again, her pussy clenching around him from the contact. “Fucking bitch, couldn’t even let me handle it.”

Whiskey accentuated each of his words with a particularly harsh thrust, making her cry out into the pillow.

“Because you were fucking it up royally, you asshole!” She replied, lifting her head to look over her shoulder at him. Seeing his stupid face, sweat on his forehead, teeth bared as he kept pounding into her. “You’re not good for shit, Whiskey!”

One of his hands left her hip, curling his fingers into her hair instead, pulling her up, enjoying the way she yelped, reaching behind her, finding his waist.

“Good at nothin’ except fucking you, huh, sugar?” He rasped against her ear, that thick accent only making her hate him more. The sting from his tight grip on her hair only got her closer, his hips reaching a punishing pace. “And you ain’t got no use besides takin’ my cock, sweetheart.”

Reaching her orgasm with a guttural moan, her whole body shook as she gripped his cock tight, her fingers digging into his skin behind her. It consumed all of her, mingling with the hate she felt for him.

He followed close behind, grunting into her ear as he came inside of her, feeling him twitch when he stilled deep inside of her pussy.

For a moment, all of the hate and rivalry was forgotten. In the brief first seconds of the afterglow they simply were two people who had quenched the need for release.

Then, he pushed her back down onto the bed, cock slipping out of her, and climbed off the bed to walk over into the bathroom.

She looked after him, used to his brevity after he had fucked her full of his cum. Looked at those stupid muscles on his back, his round ass.

Fucking hell, she really hated Whiskey and every moment they had to spend together.

But she enjoyed the brief moments they had where they just let off steam.

“Fucking asshole.” She muttered, turning onto her back with a groan.

The next time where he fucked up a mission couldn’t come fast enough.

[wannab-urs]

Title: Under Your Skin

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: You’ve worked on Chucho’s ranch since you were 15 years old, grew up with Javi, loved Javi… He comes back after nearly 20 years to find you hooking up with a certain former secret agent. He’s jealous, for sure, but of who? 

Warnings: mdni, 18+ post season 3 of Narcos, AU where Jack gets kicked out of the Statesmen instead of burgered, Javi being bi and repressed, Jack being a bisexual slut, SMUT, MMF dynamics, oral (f receiving), javi being a dick, oral (m receiving), javi tries to hit jack, gay kissing (!!!), making out, face sitting, reader kinda gets used and likes it, nipple play, throat fucking, Eiffel tower moment, brief f masturbation, brief m masturbation, pet names (sugar, cowboy, baby, hermosa), truly unreasonable amounts of cursing i’m sorry i talk like this, and also unreasonable amounts of southern phrasing, again sorry I talk like this, unprotected PIV, creampie, cum eating, teasing Javi, actually 90% porn with like a little backstory, kind of enemies to lovers, they’re all ranch hands technically, also they’re all romantically into each other but also javi is dumb and jack can’t believe anyone would want him for more than sex haha oops :)  WC: 3.5k

A/N: This is my @pedrostories Secret Santa gift to the lovely @javier-pena!! I hope it’s everything you wanted ahhhhh. I hope it's ok that this has nothing to do with Christmas and really doesn't even take place in the winter. I saw that you like Whiskey and Javi P, cowboys , and poly fics and like... could not resist. I tried my hand at enemies to lovers, a trope I love to read, but I think it came out pretty mild. I am so excited for you to read this!!!!! Happy Holidays ❤️

credits: dividers by @saradika // Thanks for the beta @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, @beskarandblasters, and @idolatrybarbie

Jack Daniels Masterlist | Javier Peña Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

Working on a ranch isn’t easy, and it usually isn’t even all that fun. But it does have its perks. One such perk is currently on his knees with his face buried in your pussy. One of your legs is over Jack’s shoulder and you use it to pull him even closer, grinding your clit on his hooked nose. Just as you’re about to come, the door to the tack room slams open. You and Jack jump apart and you quickly start stuffing your legs back into your jeans. 

“For FUCKS sake, Daniels. This is the third time this week. Get back to fucking work.” Javier Peña, face red and chest heaving, looks like he just caught his girlfriend cheating on him. “And you. You should fucking know better.” 

You fasten the button of your jeans and smirk at Javi. “Know better than what, Javi?”

“Than to fuck around with some asshole like Daniels.” 

“He’s nicer than you,” you snark before storming out, making sure to slam your shoulder into Javi on the way out the door. He ruined a perfectly good orgasm.

You’ve worked on Chucho’s ranch since you were 15 years old, taking care of the horses at first before graduating to fixing the fences and caring for the cattle as well. You and Javi had been best friends before he ran off to Colombia, spending every day after school and every second of daylight in the summer together on his father’s ranch. 

You had been in the back pew the day he never showed up for his and Lorraine’s wedding. You like to think you had something to do with that. He clearly, clearly, wanted out of Laredo, wanted nothing to do with the wife and 2.5 kids and picket fence life he was barrelling toward. 

His bachelor party was just the two of you drinking in the hayloft, you begging him to do what he’d always wanted to and him going on about duty and obligation. You’d almost kissed him that night, but stopped yourself. He was getting married the next day, for fuck’s sake. You’re glad he listened to you, in the end, even if he disappeared without so much as a goodbye.

In the years he was gone, you never really forgot about him. The truth was that he had been your first love, but you’d never worked up the courage to tell him, and then he was getting married and then he was gone. 

Jack looked so much like Javi that when he first showed up on the ranch, you asked if he was Javi’s cousin or something, a long lost Peña. He assured you he was from Kentucky and had no relation to the Peñas. Jack had been some sort of law enforcement, and the reason he was here on a ranch in Texas was a mystery to everyone but him. There were rumors he was fired, banned from law enforcement altogether, but nothing could be confirmed. He doesn’t seem like the type to have a bad past, but you never really know.

Jack is charming in a loud, overly confident sort of way. He’s smart as a whip and funny to boot. He’s a damn good time and he’s never asked anything of you but a good fuck and better company. It’s really more than you could have hoped for with Javi gone and no other prospects in town… that you had any interest in anyway.

Now, nearly a couple decades after he left, Javi is back working for his dad. He won’t talk about Colombia, even though everyone calls him a hero. You’d think he’d want to brag about his accomplishments down there, but he reminds you of war vets, the way he shuts down when anyone brings it up. 

He’s different now than the old Javi, your Javi, was. He’s surly, quick to snap at people, smokes like a freight train, and never does anything but sit in the bunkhouse and drink. You think you could handle all the change if he’d just talk to you. 

You were so close as kids, but now it’s like you don’t know him at all. The bright, funny, hot-headed kid you knew is gone and some asshole has replaced him. He barely speaks to you at all, but he treats Jack even worse – insinuating Jack can’t do his job, calling him an asshole at any given opportunity, even up and leaving a room when the man walks in. It’s ridiculous and you can’t figure out why he’s acting like this. Jack has never so much as looked at Javi sideways, even after all the harsh treatment.

You head to your room in the bunkhouse, all your work taken care of for the day already. It’s not like you were neglecting your job to hook up with Jack, as much as Javi might like to think that. You push open the door to your room and find Jack lounging in your bed, shirtless and barefoot. 

“Hey there, pretty girl,” Jack smiles at you, his eyes scrunching at the corners. God he’s cute. 

“Hi, cowboy. Made yourself at home, did you?” You start stripping out of your work clothes, not caring about Jack’s presence. Nothing he hasn’t seen before. Jack gets off the bed and pulls your mostly naked body into his chest, nuzzling your neck. 

“We got interrupted earlier.” 

“Fucking asshole. He’s just mad he’s not getting any.”

“May be more right than you know, sugar.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him but shrug off the comment, dropping to your knees and working at Jack’s belt buckle. 

Javi hates that son of a bitch, he really does. He’s always sneaking off work to fuck whatever willing idiot falls for his charming smile and his stupid broad shoulders and his long bowlegs. 

He can’t believe you of all people fell for it, keep falling for it. Sure he’s pretty, but the guy is an asshole. Two days ago, he caught him in the store room with his hand down Jose’s pants. The guy is a slut, plain and simple. You’re too fucking good for him. 

Javi isn’t completely sure why Jack gets under his skin so bad. At least not in any way he’ll admit to himself or anyone else. Jack is charming without being sleazy, smart, good at his job, funny. There were rumors that Jack had done bad things in his past, though there’s nothing about the man that indicates he had, aside from his silence on the topic. Something Javi can’t honestly hold against him, considering his own refusal to open up. There’s no real reason for Javi to hate him, but he does. Everything the other man does sets him into a rage, his face hot, chest heaving, fists clenching. He wants to put his fist through a wall. 

He’s not quite sure where he went wrong with you. Sure, leaving for nearly 20 years does a number on a friendship, but he’s pretty sure it shouldn’t be this bad. You haven’t done anything wrong, other than fuck around with Jack, but every time he speaks to you now it’s a biting remark. A criticism of your work ethic, your choice in bed fellows, even your outfits. It’s like he has no control over his own damn mouth.

Javi knows he’s in the wrong, knows he should apologize for his comment earlier. He heads to the bunkhouse to find you. Your room is two doors down and across the hall from his. Javi doesn’t bother knocking, pushing the door open.

“Hey, do you have a sec–” Javi freezes in your doorway, catching an eyeful of you with Jack fucking Daniels’ cock in your mouth. Jack catches his eye and fucking winks at him. Javi ignores the twitch in his jeans and closes the door, stalking down the hall to his own room and slamming his door behind him.

Twice in one day? Seriously? He takes back the apology before he can ever offer it to you. This is just ridiculous. What do you see in Jack that you don’t see in him? And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? Javi wants you for himself and he’s pissed that Jack got to you while you he was off not catching Escobar. 

There’s a knock on his door and then, “Peña?” Fucking Jack Daniels. 

“Piss off, Whiskey. Not in the mood.”

Jack opens the door anyway, steps inside and shuts it behind him. Javi takes his disheveled hair, still bare chest and feet. The man hadn’t even bothered to button his jeans. Javi is on his feet in the other man’s face in seconds. “I said piss off, Daniels. Something about that you don’t understand?” 

“No need to be hostile, Peña, I just wanted to check on you. Stormed out of there pretty quick.” Jack doesn’t back up an inch. 

“Forgive me if I don’t want to see her with your cock down her throat.” 

“Why, Jav? You like her or something?” Javi shoves Jack until his back hits the wall, hard. “Or is it because you’re afraid you’ll like it too much?” Javi sees red. He swings on Jack, but Jack catches his fist and pulls the other man into his chest. 

“Fuck you,” Javi growls it, lips almost grazing Jack’s, their mouths are so close together. 

“That an offer?” Jack smirks. If Jack didn’t know better, he’d think he heard Javi’s breath hitch in his throat at that. Before he can wonder if Javi is gonna try to hit him again, Javi crashes their lips together. 

Jack drops Javi’s arm and grabs the collar of his shirt in both hands instead. Jack licks into Javi’s mouth, slots a thigh between Javi’s and feels the other man’s cock getting hard against his leg. Jack walks him back toward the bed, tugging at the buttons of Javi’s shirt. 

Suddenly, the door opens and Javi flies back from Jack as if he’d shoved him, sprawling on the bed. Jack doesn’t even turn to look at you, just stares Javi down.

 “Hey, I heard…” you trail off, taking in the scene in front of you. Jack standing in the middle of the room, looking even more disheveled than the state you’d left him in. Javi spread out on the bed, shirt half untucked and half unbuttoned, his dick clearly hard in his jeans. “What am I looking at here?”

“Nothing,” Javi spits out. 

“Me and Jav had a little fight, but we kissed and made up, Sugar.” Jack winks at you and you feel your cheeks heat, feel a flutter of arousal in your belly. 

“Oh really?” You run your tongue along your top teeth, trying and failing to contain a smirk.

Javi furrows his brow at you. Do you sound… excited? Jack glances back and forth between the two of you. 

“Why don’t you close the door?” Jack asks you, his voice low. You kick the door closed behind you and walk over to Javi. You take his face in your hands and tug him toward you until he’s sitting up on the bed.

“Close your mouth ‘fore flies get in, baby.” He snaps his jaw shut and you press a chaste kiss to his lips. “This okay?” Javi nods slowly. You climb onto the bed, straddling Javi’s thighs, and kiss him again, deeper and longer than the first. 

Jack makes his way across the room and settles on his knees behind Javi, gripping his hips and pressing his lips behind his ear. 

“How about this? Is this okay?” Jack whispers. 

“Y-yeah,” Javi honest to god stutters. This is not where he thought this was going. He doesn’t even like men. Not usually. 

Javi kisses you like his fucking life depends on it. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, tangles his own with yours. Drags his mouth down your jaw line, your throat, leaves a mark on your collarbone. You finish unbuttoning Javi’s shirt and Jack pulls it off him and tosses it on the floor before he sucks his own mark into Javi’s neck and Javi bites back a moan at the feeling. He buries his face in the crook of your neck. 

“I um- I don’t really-” Javi’s face burns hot. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. 

“It’s alright, I gotcha.” Jack runs his hands up and down Javi’s sides, soothing him. “Let’s start with something you’re familiar with, huh? Or at least I hope you are.” Jack slides off the bed, silently communicating with you what his plan is. 

You push Javi until he’s on his back in the center of the bed. You stand up and strip your panties and t-shirt off before you crawl up his body, dropping kisses on the soft curve of his stomach, his chest, his throat. You settle your knees on either side of his head, your soaked pussy hovering just over his face. This he can do, he thinks.

He grabs your thighs and licks a stripe from your core to your clit. You moan, one hand braced on the wall in front of you and the other fisted in his hair. He pulls you flush with his mouth and starts moving your hips for you, making you ride his face. He thrusts his tongue in and out of you while you grind on his nose, much like you had Jack’s earlier. They’re both so fucking beautiful, fuck. 

Jack gets situated between Javi’s spread thighs and takes in the sight of you straddling his face. It might be the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen. Your head thrown back in ecstasy, Javi’s strong arms pulling you back and forth on his face. 

Jack palms Javi through his jeans and he hears him moan into your skin. Jack strips his own jeans off, then drags Javi’s down far enough to free his cock. Jack’s mouth waters at the sight. Javi is thick, long, uncut. Fuckin’ gorgeous. He sucks the tip of Javi’s cock into his mouth, savoring the salty taste of his precum. Javi lets out a deep, muffled groan straight into your core and it sends you over the edge. Your cries only encourage Jack more and he takes Javi to the root, bobbing his head up and down the man’s length. 

Javi holds you to his face while he works you through your orgasm. He finally lets you go, and you fall to the side to catch your breath and shake off the aftershocks. 

Javi slides both hands into Jack’s hair, thrusting lightly into Jack’s mouth. Jack reaches a hand between his own legs and strokes himself while he lets Javi use his throat. You just came, but the sight of the two men together has your cunt clenching around nothing. You drop your hand to your clit and rub circles in time to Javi’s thrusts. 

Javi pulls Jack off him abruptly. “Fuck- you’re really good at that.”

“I know,” Jack smirks at Javi, his voice rough. 

“I’d really like to come in her tight little cunt though, instead of your mouth.” Javi looks over to you, eyes full of lust. “If that’s okay?” 

“More than okay, baby.” You shoo the boys off the bed and lay across it with your head hanging off the edge. Jack moves to stand by your head and slips the head of his cock between your open lips. Javi feels a twinge of jealousy at the way you both seem to know exactly what the other wants without saying a word aloud. But then you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer to you and he lets it go. If this is the only time Javi gets to have you, he’s not going to waste it being jealous of the guy who just sucked him off. 

Javi drags his cock through your soaked folds. “So wet for us, baby.” Javi groans as he pushes inside you, slowly sliding in to the hilt. “Fuck, you feel so good.” 

Jack cradles your head in one hand while he shallowly fucks your throat, playing with your tits with his free hand. He tweaks your left nipple and you moan around his cock. Every thrust from Javi pushes you further down Jack’s length, forcing him to fuck your throat. You’ve never been used like this before, like some sort of proxy for two men to fuck each other, but you fucking love it. You feel close to coming again already, and no one has touched your clit in minutes. 

Jack pulls Javi to him and crashes their mouths together. Javi lets Jack plunder his mouth for a moment before sucking on the other man’s tongue, drawing a moan from the cowboy’s throat. He may have never kissed a man, but he’s been with enough women to manage that. 

The two men sync up, thrusting into your holes at the same time and you feel like you’re ascending to another fucking plane of existence. There are no thoughts in your head except for Javi and Jack and how fucking amazing you feel. And, briefly, the thought of them both stuffed in your core, stuffing you fuller than you’ve ever been. You clench at that thought, and Javi has enough presence of mind to drop his hand to your mound, rubbing messy circles on your clit. 

Your body tenses, back arching as you get closer and closer to the edge, which only serves to open your throat up more for Jack. Javi grabs your hips with both hands and starts pulling you onto his cock, hitting your g-spot every time. Suddenly, your entire body tenses and your pussy flutters around Javi’s thick cock. Your vision blacks out as your eyes roll into the back of your head, coming harder than you ever have before.

Jack comes down your throat with absolutely no warning, too lost in Javi’s mouth on his and your mouth around his cock to say a word. You grab his hips and hold him deep in your throat, swallowing around him. The force of his orgasm knocks him forward on the bed, hands planted on either side of your hips and face buried in the crook of Javi’s neck as he paints your throat. 

Javi thrusts into you a few more times before his hips still, flush with yours. He comes deep inside you for what feels like forever, his cum spilling out of you and dripping onto the bed. 

He pulls out of you slowly, dropping a kiss to your thigh before he goes to get a towel to clean you up. When he comes back, he finds you with your legs thrown over Jack’s shoulders, the man eating Javi’s cum out of your cunt. Javi’s spent dick gives a valiant twitch at the sight. 

“Guess I didn’t need the towel then?” Javi jokes, tossing it onto the bedside table and climbing back onto the bed. Jack sucks your clit into his mouth one last time and pulls off with a pop. 

“Guess not,” Jack smirks. You and Jack settle in beside Javi, Jack pulling the man’s head to his chest and you resting your head on Javi’s torso. You all sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes. 

“You’re not uh-” Javi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “You’re not gonna tell my old man I-”

“That you like boys?” you snicker. 

“Not foolin’ anyone in those tight little jeans you wear, Jav.”

Javi presses his fingers into his eyelids and takes another deep breath. “Guys I’m serious.” 

“Of course. We won’t tell anyone. Not til you’re ready.” You lean up and kiss his cheek before nuzzling back into Javi’s tummy. 

“So you gonna tell her, or am I?” Jack looks like a kid in a candy store.

You sit up quickly. “Tell me what?” 

“Don’t–” Javi tries to plead with Jack.

“Sugar, he tried to hit me for messing around with you,” Jack interrupts. “Think he might have a crush.” 

“What the fuck, man?” Javi’s brow furrows so deep you think it might get stuck that way. 

Jack ignores him and addresses you, “He’s always starin’ at you and checking up on you and asking you for shit he can damn well get himself.”

“Javi, is it true?” 

Javi looks up at the ceiling as if he’s praying for God to have mercy on him. 

“Yeah, hermosa. It’s true. Lo- Liked you since I was a kid.” 

You smile so wide it hurts and wrap your arms around Javi, pulling him to you for another long, deep kiss. “Javi, baby, I was in love with you before you ever even got with Lorraine. And I never stopped loving you. Jack was just a stand-in, until he wasn’t.” You look over at Jack with a wince. “Sorry, Jack. No offense?” 

“None taken, sugar.” Jack smiles good-naturedly and kisses you on the forehead. “Could we do this again sometime? Or are y’all cuttin’ me out of the deal now?” 

“You’re not going anywhere, cowboy. Javi likes you too.” 

“Wait really?” Jack seems genuinely surprised. 

Javi drops his head into his hands and groans. “I need a fucking cigarette.”

Oh and here's a silly little moodboard thing I made

[creedslove]

HEARTLESS 💔 - PART TWO

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader

Summary: much to your horror, Jack shows up again and asks you to see his son one more time

(This is the second part of the one shot HEARTLESS 💔)

Warnings: angst, hurt, a little bit of fluff because Wyatt is super cute, mom!reader, asshole!jack, mentions of abortion

A/N: besties honestly i don't even know why I am doing this, while i was writing, i realized i don't like this suffering at all 😭 i think agent whiskey is such a dad and husband material and he's so handsome and sexy and he would be so affectionate and would give the best orgasms and cuddles in the world but i can't stop myself from pouring angst into people's lives 😭

1.7k words

Wyatt whimpered as you sent him to bed. He wasn't sleepy at all and he wanted to talk about all the fun things he'd seen during the day. He loved to run freely through the green fields, he liked scaring away the chickens, petting the horses and watching the baby pigs. 

But his favorite part of the trip was the cowboy. He was so cool, Wyatt spent the rest of the day blabbering about him and asking you all kinds of questions. He was so innocent and pure, your heart shattered each time he would look at you with his little curious eyes and shoot you another question about the mysterious figure. 

Though he wasn't mysterious at all. It was his dad, not that Wyatt knew about it, you figured he was just too little for that, he was still your baby. He wasn't even four yet and he had to live his little life with only his mama as he'd been rejected by his dad since he was just a small little bean in your womb. 

You saw his begging, pleading eyes, just like Jack's and felt your heart clench, there was nothing he would ask you and you would say no. You sighed and pulled Wyatt into your lap "fine baby boy, if you don't wanna sleep now, then come cuddle mama!!!" You tickled his tummy and made him squeal and snuggle you. 

You sat comfortably in his small bed and let him sprawl over you, loving how happy he got. You ran your fingers through his soft curls and pecked the top of his head. He was waiting for a bedtime story as you always told him one, but this time, he wanted a cowboy story. You swallowed and took his tiny little hand into yours, stroking it gently 

"You really liked that cowboy, didn't you?" You asked your son and earned an excited nod "alright… let mama think…" you closed your eyes and thought of any story you could tell him, however, you didn't know any cowboy stories… the only cowboy story you knew was your cowboy… but that was a long time ago, when he was yours and you were his. 

Still, Wyatt looked up curiously, waiting to know what you had to tell him. 

You swallowed and began telling him the story about your cowboy. 

With a few modifications, some sugar coating and softness you told your son about your first encounter with the cowboy and how it made your heart melt. You told him how you two hit off and how the cowboy had a real nice job of fighting bad guys and saving the world, you couldn't control the pride in your chest as you saw the joy in Wyatt's eyes, loving that storytelling so much he often gasped and giggled.

And going down the memory lane, you managed to make your son sleepy, as he blinked his tired eyes and yawned "night night mama" he whispered before falling asleep.

You smiled at yourself and covered him up, silently walking out the bedroom and walked around your dark, empty apartment. Your mind wouldn't stop replaying the images of your day, your sudden encounter with Jack, something you really thought wouldn't happen soon. He looked handsome, like he always did, smelling great and if you didn't know any better, you would probably fall for his trap again, if he flashed you those beautiful eyes, gave you a grin and said any dumb pickup line with his accent. There was just something so attractive about him, and you had fallen for him once, but you wouldn't make the same mistake twice. 

You thought about how he hugged Wyatt, it didn't even seem the same man who rejected him, who simply broke things up with you once you found out you were pregnant. One day you were deeply in love with each other, and the next he was suggesting you get an abortion. It was something you just couldn't handle, you couldn't accept and just like you were alone in the world with your baby. 

When the doorbell rang, your heart clenched once more, you didn't even need to check, you just knew it was Jack. 

You dried your eyes and sighed, walking to the door and opening it for him. 

Jack stood there, looking almost as unsure as you did. He was holding his hat in hands and watched you hesitantly. You could tell he was looking for words to say, but nothing came out. 

"Come on in, Jack" you said and let him step inside, closing the door behind him and letting him get familiar with the place. 

Jack looked all over the place, he had never been inside your home and it hurt him how it looked homey and cozy. No matter how much he spent on decoration at his own place, he could never get it like that. 

He carefully watched the picture frames, so many photos of a life that could have been his as well, but he chose not to be a part of it, it didn't even matter his reasons now, the result was there: pictures of you on your baby shower, pictures of the first time you held Wyatt in your arms, his first birthday, his first day at daycare, mother's day… all those precious, beautiful moments, and absolutely no trace of Jack. 

"It's good seeing you again, Y/N… you look even prettier than before, sugar" the man turned to you, his voice was small and though his cocky way of speaking wasn't there, you couldn't believe the first thing he told you in years was a cheap attempt of charming you.

"What do you want Jack?" You folded your arms and stared at him, you didn't want to play games nor beat around the bush.

"I wanna be around my boy" he replied to which you scoffed and shook your head 

"Your boy? The same one that you rejected when he was nothing but a tiny little bean in my womb? The one you insisted on me getting rid of? I don't think so, Jack" 

He sighed ashamed of his past and took a step closer, to which you immediately took a step back, showing him you wanted nothing but distance from him. 

"I know what I did, and I know how awful it was, but after I saw him today… I realized I can't get away… please Y/N" 

"You think you can just walk in and demand to see my son? After you abandoned us? He isn't a cute puppy, Jack! You can't just find him sweet because you spent five minutes with him and think you can bring your shit storm into our lives. That's not how it works. I don't want him around you, because you are a mess and you will break his heart just like you broke mine!" 

"I didn't abandon you, Y/N. Don't be unfair with me!!! All these years, I followed the two of you from afar, I provided you with money and other things you needed.. hell, who do you think managed to get you this apartment lease?" He raised his eyebrow getting on the defensive "I wanna do it the right way, but if you make things hard, I'll get a damn lawyer and you will have to fight your cut ass off to pay for one yourself because I won't rest until I have my boy with me!!!" 

You knew Jack, he wasn't bluffing. He was the kind of man who got everything he wanted, but you just couldn't accept he could walk into your home and have a claim on your son after everything that happened, even threatening you to find an attorney. 

"It's not the same… money helps but it is not everything, where were you when I was pregnant and alone? When I needed someone to hold my hand and tell me things were fine? Where were you, Jack? When Wyatt had his first fever and I didn't know how I could help him calm down? When he said his first words? When he took his first step? You missed it all out, even if you had given me your whole fortune, nothing pays the memories you lost!" 

"I just want to see my son, nothing else Y/N… I don't want you, I don't want our relationship back" he said knowing it would sting you, he couldn't help but make his intentions clear. You two would never be together again, he knew that because you would never take him back, so he thought it was easier to just convince himself of it beforehand. 

You, on the other hand, could never be with him again, even if he hadn't done the things he did, there was still no way you could compete with a ghost, you just thought it was easier to convince yourself Jack never stopped loving his first wife and he never would, so your relationship was nothing but an adventure. 

You didn't want him to see the tears in your eyes, you didn't want to show how weak you felt at that moment. 

Before any of you could say anything else, tiny footsteps interrupted the argument that was about to explode. 

"Cowboy!!!" Wyatt said excitedly as he still rubbed his tired eyes but ran to Jack, giggling as he was so easily lifted up into his arms. The toddler was so affectionate, he just wrapped his small arms around his neck once more and rested his head against Jack's shoulder "miss you cowboy!" he giggled happily and snuggled.

You bit your lips and did your best not to cry, but it was pretty much impossible, you couldn't understand why your son liked that man so much without even knowing him. It wasn't fair to you, and you were ashamed to realize you felt jealous. 

Jack, on the other hand, felt his heart fill with pure joy for the first time in ages. He quickly kept Wyatt in a warm embrace, loving the smell of his baby shampoo and how cute his PJs were. 

His hand rubbed up and down his back as he sat on the couch, letting him relax completely and in a matter of minutes, Wyatt was back in dreamland.

You hated how easy it was for Jack to make your son fall asleep, and how much they already liked each other, it hurt you so much, but you were determined not to let that man get near you again.

_____

A/N: ¿Malparido, no?

[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    

[penvisions]

buckles and barley {new series masterlist}

Fandom: Kingsmen - The Golden Circle

Pairing: Rancher! Jack Daniels x Ranchhand! Reader

Summary: You seek out a secluded ranch outside the city limits at the behest of your ill father. In search of one of his old friends he had lost contact with after returning from a deployment and a catastrophic fallout. But instead you find the charming, dedicated, and rather handsome son of the man who had already passed, Jack Daniels. A night of bonding over the iron wills of your fathers and you find yourself falling into bed with him, only to be called away by the hospital that your father had been rushed too.

Devastated but free from the ties of your former life, you return to the ranch a changed woman. With the help of a man who holds his own grief, you learn how to tend to the horses and maintain the land. Together, you dance around each other as the seasons change. Cultivating a life that you never envisioned for yourself.

Wordcount: undetermined

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, death of a loved one, strained family dynamics, grief, implied verbal abuse, implied anger issues, allusions to past relationships, reader finds herself, reader takes control of her life, minor injuries, accident prone reader, allusions to infidelity, miscommunication, pining, mutual pining, protective jack, adult content, sexual content, smut, p in v, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), more to be added as the story develops!

A/N: excited to delve into this once {by the grit of sandpaper} is concluded. will be doing a little bit of a different approach with this one, it's a new pedro character for me and i wanted to try writing a majority of this one before i begin posting to help establish a solid posting schedule!

ao3 link || navigation || main masterlist || ko-fi

sneakie peek || fic teaser || chapter one header

[infinity-mars]

Play With Me

Pairing: Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x f!reader 

Word Count: 8.5k+

Rating: Explicit Smut (18+ only) 

Summary: You go out for a night of fun and encounter an alluring cowboy that does everything he can to capture your attention.

Also posted on my AO3 !

You loved to dance. Those moments when your heart fluttered in your chest made you move like you could fly, relishing in the feeling of power it gave you. You weren’t particularly graceful or always on time, but there was a certain magnetic thrum in the air that bent you to its will all the same. 

From outdoor dance clubs to private velvet-roped lounges, discothèques, raves and rooftop bars, you’ve tried to see it all with your friend Kate by your side. 

The cool air nipped at you both as you finally walked inside the club, the heat of passing bodies a welcome feeling. The lit room had a hushed glow as people made their home for the night in plush seats off against the far walls. 

You imagined that the venue was similar to what Alice saw when she went down the rabbit hole and found herself in Wonderland. The bar certainly had the right name, you thought, the people walking around just as colorful as the children’s story. 

The bartender was quick and you were thankful, even though the drink he made was weaker than you preferred. Vodka burned as it hit the back of your throat, aided by the scoff that found you at the man chatting up your friend. 

Kate always had a thing for slightly pathetic men, like she could eat them alive. You were used to her routine by now, her colorful storytelling one of your favorite things to listen to over your morning coffee.

Honestly, you were both horrible together: you pitied the unsuspecting bystanders that listened in. Laughing at an old story she loved to tell at your expense, you didn’t see him at first. 

You wish you could go back to the moment he came crashing into your orbit, not noticing the person on your left until he made himself known. 

“Now what is a pretty bee like you lookin’ so bored all the way over here?” a gravelly voice spoke, the man’s lips tantalizingly close to the shell of your ear. 

Your eyes looked over before your brain could catch up, and what you saw certainly sidetracked whatever thoughts had possessed you before. Wearing a black leather jacket that swam in the neon light of the bar, he almost seemed to glow in a classic white shirt that tapered on his slim waist.

“I’m enjoying myself just fine thank you,” you retorted, taking a generous swig of your watered down drink to hide the rush of nervous energy that possessed you. You were used to beginning the chase, and it caught you off guard to be taken by surprise. 

How refreshing.

 A small grin flickered across his face at your answer. His dark hair and broad shoulders only made him more mysterious, the lolling drawl of his voice making you curious despite yourself. 

Men would approach you with the fashionable audacity they all liked to carry around with careless hands hoping for a quick fuck. Sometimes you’d indulge yourself, but the enjoyable heat of another person wasn’t worth it if they never shut their mouths. 

Your vibrator and weighted blanket made sure of that.

You were undecided if this man fit into that category though.

“That’s not what I see.”

“Hmm, what do you see then, if you know me so well?”

The man shifted his foot and leaned in closer, the subtle spice of his cologne clinging to his suede collar. The way he wore it was effortless, and you wanted to grab onto his jacket to either bring him closer or shove him back, depending on what he said next.

“I see a woman that’s bored out of her mind trying to convince herself she’s not, drinking alcohol not worth the proof on the bottle,” he explained, voice dipping lower as you turned to fully face him, finally meeting eyes that never strayed from you.”You want more than whatever junior over there could ever offer someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“Oh honey, I know I walked into that one with both feet. You’re just fishing for compliments now, aren’t ya?”

“Mmm, are you going to tell me what I wanna hear or are you going to buy me a drink?”

“The shit they mix here ain’t what you deserve, I saw that bartender mixing those drinks. Take a sip of this darlin’, and tell me I’m not wrong,” the man tempted, readily extending a sleek silver flask to you that was attached to his belt buckle. How scandalous .

The promise in his expression emboldened you. He had taken a drink from the flask himself before offering it to you in invitation.

“What’s life without a little risk?” His eyes seemed to ask.

You took the chance, the warmth from his hands lingering on your fingers as you took the flask from him.The delicate gold choker on your neck glinted in the light as you swallowed.

Taking a swig, you absorb the flavor. He knew his alcohol, and from the confidence of his statement nothing less than top shelf mattered. You could certainly respect that, wondering if his lips would have the same taste if he kissed you.

“You’re not wrong, it’s very good. I’ve always been partial to whiskey myself.”

“Just good? What you have in your hand is a rare share of Statesman Whiskey, made straight from the source in Kentucky,” he retorted, almost offended if not for the mischievous twinkle in his eye. Something you had said passed a test you weren’t yet aware of.“Even as a Yankee you must understand the quality of that. I knew you would.”

“You caught that, did you?” 

“I don’t miss a thing, and you have most certainly caught my undivided attention.” 

You shifted completely to turn your back on your friend and her man of the hour, uninterested in the conversation that no longer included you. 

This man was right about one thing: you had been bored, and hopefully he would measure up for the evening. He didn’t shrink at your gaze.

It was nice to be approached for once with an interest that could mirror your own. 

“I don’t know how you fit that ego of yours inside this place. This doesn’t exactly look like your scene if I’m being honest.”

He chuckles at that without taking offense and coyly tips the brim of his hat in your direction, smiling with a flash of tongue at your choked laugh that's just for him. 

“Let’s just say I’ve gotten a lot of practice over the years. Even more talking to gorgeous girls like you. A buddy of mine wanted me to check out this new place to meet up sometime for work .”

The queer way he said that wasn’t lost on you, but you figured it was just an inside joke of some kind. 

“You know that a honey bee can sting when it's threatened right?” 

The way he widened his stance in victory as you focused on him was intentional, the insufferable action the kind of cockiness you usually wanted to smother with your own if not for the way it oddly suited him. 

“Oh, that doesn’t deter me one bit. I’m sure your sting is just as sweet. I happen to like that.”

The grin peeking out from beneath his mustache looks genuine. You’re intrigued, looking at him now in consideration. As you checked him out from head to toe, one thing stood out rather prominently. 

“Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just really happy to see me right now?” 

New York might be a concealed carry state but he looked like one of the only men on the premises actually packing heat in all of the ways that matter. The well fitted dark blue denim hugging his thighs left very little to the imagination. 

He was tailored to torture you inch-by-fucking-inch.

“Why don’t you come dance with me for the next song and find out?”

Oh you definitely wanted to shut him up. Preferably with something else to keep that mouth of his busy. 

“No.”

“No? Give me one reason why not and I’ll leave you alone. You can take someone else home tonight and leave ol’ Jack behind.”

“So that’s your name then? Jack,” you reply. His eyes droop at the sound, half lidded and unhurried in the way he examines the way you say his name. 

You finally introduce yourself, like you hadn’t been bantering with the man for a while now. 

Like you hadn’t been imagining what he would look like after spending a night with you, scratch marks down his back a parting gift that'll make him think of you every time he moves.

“If you are so obliged, it’ll be the name you’ll be screaming later and that’s a promise,” he vowed, chewing on a mint he popped in with a cheeky wink thrown in your direction. On any other man that would be a turn-off, but you looked down and saw the way his hands clenched around nothing as you observed him. 

Jack was his own harbinger of surprises it seems. 

The second of silence that follows sears under your skin, charged and frantic for more friction. A quick reply caught on your tongue that you held in, keeping it for later: never let it be said that you didn't like flirting with delayed gratification every once in a while.

“How do you know that I don’t have someone already waiting in my bed for me?” You asked. Jack’s eyes were arresting, lingering lower on your chest for a few moments before looking into your own to answer you.

 He gave a satisfied hum when he found whatever he was searching for.

“I think the way you’re staring at me is all the answer I need.”

You’ll give him credit, he was saying all of the right things. Or at this point, you wanted them to be, your attraction only tipping in his favor.

“Now what is a Southern boy like you doing here? Not to be a cliche, but you’re a long way from home.”

“Oh, I’m just like anyone else. I work at the Statesman New York office, traveling a lot when I’m needed elsewhere. What do you do when you’re not talking to vagrants like me in strange bars?”

“I’m a romance novelist, dabbling in a lot of things really, you know how it is.”

“Hmm, now that sounds interesting. What words must form on that clever tongue of yours?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you flirted back. 

He began speaking again, the story he launched into exotic and altogether hard to believe, but it wasn’t the words that reeled you in. It was his large hands waving temptingly close that distracted you. You could care less about the time he almost died in Marrakesh after offending someone’s wife.

You’d commit the story to your memory later when the pleasant haze of him faded away.

His tale came to a close as you glanced down and laughed at the stereotype that for some reason didn’t surprise you.

“Can you even dance in those boots for anything other than a two step?”

“I can do a lot more than that.”

“With your shiny belt buckle and Stetson I’d almost think you’re compensating for something,” you teased. A flash of delight lit up his face at your observation, the smirk he sent your way something just north of sinful.

“Everything is bigger in the south darlin' and besides,” he trailed off, hands coming to slowly cage you in against the bar but not quite touching you. “Let’s be honest here, we both know you like what I’ve got underneath.”

You lean forward, a breath of air suspended between you as your mouth almost ghosts over his. Maneuvering out of Jack’s reach, you reach up and take the hat off his head.

You had no doubt he would have stopped you if he had actually wanted to, those large hands of his able to easily overpower and hold you down. 

You suppress a grin at the thought.

Putting the large hat on your head, you brushed out your unruly hair to make it stay firmly in place. His eyes unfocused for a moment before looking at you with renewed intensity, his jaw ticking to the side as he takes you all in. 

You loved the chase, but at that moment you were tempted to end the flirtation and leave the bar to see if those fingers would fill you up as well as they promised. 

“Come on, show me your moves," you dared, steeling yourself as you joined the growing crowd beginning to take over the dance floor. He convinced you. "Do your worst, Jack.”

A remix of one of your favorite songs set the pace as it moved through you. The bass was rich and dark in your veins as you danced, Wonderland falling away in the fury of bodies all around you. The charge that flitted low in your abdomen was one that threatened to crack you in two as Jack brought you back, your ass grinding into him after each beat.

It would be so easy to turn around and let yourself melt into the heat of him.

 But riling him up sounded like a lot more fun. So when the beat shifted so did you, one hand removing the hat from your head as the other reached behind you to bring him down to your level. 

“You know, there’s a saying I heard before that if you steal a cowboy’s hat you’re either fuckin’ or fighting, and darlin’ I don’t have any weapons on me right now. So what’ll it be?” He asked, his voice against your ear making you lean into his palms. 

You felt like smoke, weaving around him as you continued to dance.

“Mmmm, doesn’t a combination of both sound just as good?”

The reactive tightening of his fingers on your hips was just what you needed. The both of you were lost, the music loud enough to cover up how hard your heart was beating.

Jack runs his nose along your neck and jaw until he nips at the vein, the heat of his breath making your own decision for you.

Turning, you reach up and finally kiss him. It wasn’t a quick affair, the push and pull between you both a fight to see who would give in first. You wanted to memorize the feeling, imagining the burn of his facial hair on your thighs as you rode his face. 

You’d even wear his hat while you did it if he asked nicely. 

He tasted like mint and mussed hair dangled in front of his eyes, lightly brushing your forehead as you mingled together. 

You were both insulated in the crowd, kissing each other until you were hardly even dancing anymore. 

Ready to leave the liquor and low lighting behind, you stopped Jack in his tracks. Backing him into the wall of the hallway you ventured into, you did so firmly, hands holding him hostage as you clung to the lapels of his leather jacket. 

The hunger he saw reflected in your eyes pinned him in place, and that alone made him want to ruin you. 

Leaning up in your high heeled boots so that you could kiss his cheek, the remaining lipstick you wore smeared onto his skin like a brand, the red lip print left near his opened mouth telling him that you were dangerous.

Better yet, his favorite kind.

“Follow me cowboy,” you rasped, leaving goosebumps in your wake as you lightly skimmed over his skin with your teeth. The fever consuming from now was one he hadn’t felt bubbling in his blood ever since his last mission months ago.

 He craved it.

Jack vaguely connected that you were an unstoppable force to his immovable object, ready to crash into him like the paradox you were presenting yourself to be. 

When he had clocked you from across the bar earlier he had admitted to himself that you weren’t the usual type of woman he jumped to charm into his bed. You had looked wholly unimpressed with your surroundings before, swirling the ice in your drink as the yuppie next to you preened like a toddler with a captive audience. 

The oncoming storm he’d read in the lines of your body told him another story, however, one that swept him into you and past the redhead that had been trying to catch his attention since he’d walked in. 

The shadow of something wicked had made Jack eager to align your passions with his own.

Impatient at his composure as he thought of this, you hooked two fingers into his belt loops and tugged him off the wall and into you, that jolt he felt from before electrifying below his skin as you pressed against him. 

Reaching down and lightly cupping one of your hands over the denim of his jeans, you felt him squirm the longer you dared. 

 His dark brows furrowed at your forwardness, wanting to taste you again.

Your hands were firm on him, brokering no argument for the sly agent to persuade you with. He admired your drive, easily taking the momentum from him and twisting it to your desires. You kept surprising him, and by the way you delved into his mouth you weren’t afraid of showing him this side of you.

You wanted him to say something, anything, so this time you squeezed with intent, the hiss in your ear headier than the alcohol on his breath.

His cock twitched under your hand, and god it was power . 

You enjoyed him like this: slightly wild but contained, a groan threatening to break through clenched teeth as you felt him up in public so casually. 

You kiss him possessively in that dark room, drinking him up and daring him to consume you in turn like he promised. He might have approached you first, but you were going to finish what you both started.

It was desperate and messy and loud but neither of you cared.

A couple walked close to the both of you, forcing you to break from him in the narrow hallway to let them pass. Your absence made Jack swiftly reconnect himself with your body, his large hand sliding down into the pocket of your jeans to roughly squeeze your ass that had been grinding on him only moments before. 

Leaving his hand where it was, he used it to direct you outside into the street. The nighttime air filled your lungs with relief, cooling the sweat that dampened your neck.

“You're positive you don’t wanna go back to my place? I can assure you the view from my floor is nothing to scoff at.”

“While that might ordinarily be tempting, Jack, your apartment doesn’t have any of the toys that I like to use,” you retorted. 

You could already imagine flashes of the night ahead of you at your apartment. 

“A pity then, I just know that you pressed against my floor to ceiling windows when the sun rises would be a pretty sight indeed.”

“Let’s enjoy tonight and plan on that for next time.”

Shame was not an emotion that Jack entertained often and he wasn’t about to start now, leaving your lipstick where it sat proudly on his face. A few people stared at him in the street, but no one stopped your brisk pace. 

At the last crosswalk he pinched your ass in retaliation when you turned to kiss him harshly, nipping his chin as you leaned back onto your heels. As if you were dry kindling struck by lightning, his hands trailed flames in their wake, each touch only hastening your steps forward.  

Exposed brick, industrial lighting, and high ceilings were what attracted you to your building when you first moved to the area. Your small loft on the upper floor gave you the privacy you craved, the cityscape around you comforting in the way it always kept moving. 

While waiting for the elevator Jack untangled himself from you to lean against the wall on your right. He stood there appreciating you as a few of your neighbors walked around the lobby, Jack tipping his hat to them as they passed.

You didn’t even realize you’d dropped it at some point to kiss him earlier.

“Prettier than a peach,” he murmured, his hand reaching to smooth over his mustache in thought. He was earnest, the mood shifting into something unnamed as the elevator dinged. You huddled into him as people came and went.

"You know," you began, "I'd look even prettier with your hands wrapped around my throat."

 He coughed into his hand, not wanting everyone else in the lobby to see how tight his jeans suddenly felt. You laughed.

You both stumble into your apartment, the size of Jack overwhelming as he backs you into the closed door. His mouth was persuasive, like a switch was flipped now that you were both away from everyone else. 

He left bruising kisses on your neck, completely unyielding in his quest to mark you wherever he could reach. His hands were on the back of your head, holding you in place as he gripped your neck just so. 

For a long suspended moment you were frozen, wanting to regain the ground you refused to lose. But hell, could this man kiss the thoughts from your head. 

Then, all at once, heat spreads through you, thawing you into action. 

Holding onto his jacket with your fingers you tilt your head back with a breathless chuckle, making Jack look into your eyes. You take up one hand and grip his chin, the other drifting to caress the lipstick mark you shamelessly left on his cheek. Pressing down on it with more pressure to show you meant your next words, you wanted him to listen. 

He smirked into your touch, a cocky sort of grin showcasing his dimple that felt entirely warranted as your breath stuttered in your chest. 

“Go sit on the couch,” you ordered. Kissing you once more before moving away, a filthy moan left you as his tongue darted out for a taste. His eyes didn’t look away until you turned your back, shedding clothes in your wake until all you had left on was the lace you were wearing.

“Would you like a drink?”

“Sure thing baby, pour me a bit of whatever you’re having.”

You didn’t leave him for long, reappearing with strong liquor and the type of lingerie that made you feel like you could eat a man’s heart in the marketplace like Beatrice once said.

The warmth from the drink you’d sipped in the kitchen enveloped you as it licked up your chest— you were in your element now.

Grounded in your body, you took a deep breath. 

Emerald lace and satin embrace you, assured in the sway of your hips as you walked over to your cowboy. Handing him his drink and swiftly straddling his parted thighs, you let him take you in.

 You don’t know when he became “your cowboy,” but it sounded right, for the night at least.

Say what you will, but Jack was flexible with a change in plan. He just had to bide his time, finishing the finger of bourbon left in his glass before setting it aside.

The way you spilled out of your lingerie had him drowning in you. Champ once told him that he was an adrenaline addict, chasing every mission that got his heart racing. He wasn’t wrong—you couldn’t function as a successful Statesman agent without a dash of daredevil in you.

And he just loved the way you moved.

His mouth descends on you again, leaving you once to gulp in a desperate breath before attacking with renewed vigor. 

He hoarsely spoke your name, and it was the best thing that had left his lips all night. You wanted him to say it again but this time underneath you, unbidden and desperate at the way you pulled it out of him. You slid your tongue into his mouth and brought up a hand to roughly yank at the hair on the sides of his head, until he bowed his back and leaned into you for a moment.

“Is this what you want?” You asked, snaking your hand underneath the cup of your brassiere to shove it aside and caress your breast, a groan breaking through your composure at the way Jack bucked into you. Though his breathing was measured and even, his lips parted at the sight of your nipples pebbling in the cool air. 

“You know, when I saw you at the bar I knew I had to talk to you, take you with me when I left,” he murmured, quiet in his admission as it rang true on his face. 

“Mmmm, honey, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but...you’re in my apartment at the moment, on my couch no less, drinking my bourbon,” you answer just as quietly into his ear. You graze over it teasingly with your teeth just to see him shiver. “And I’m wearing a matching set right now. So who really took initiative tonight, hm?”

Jack laughed almost in disbelief at your words, his body responding for him. It’s an honest sound, one that makes you kiss him deep enough to taste his tongue in the back of your throat.

Ultimately what you saw in his eyes was patience. And that was hotter than anything else he could have done. 

 You sigh his name, letting your head fall forward as he seeks out another kiss from you. 

“This is just the preview. I want it all, and I know you do too,” he breathed against your lips. “Now are you going to let me touch you, or do I have to watch you fuck yourself on my thigh before I can taste you? You can only tempt a man so far.”

“Is that a threat or a challenge I hear?”

“I did promise that you’d be screaming my name, and I take that job very seriously. You'll hear no arguments from me.”

“You sure you can handle me like that, cowboy?”

Jack was wavering somewhere between wholly aroused and perversely indignant. No one questioned him like this, in the bedroom or otherwise if he could help it.

 He hated how it turned him on like this. 

You’re not sure what emboldens you to tease him; your resolve only heightens the longer he looks at you, as if you could spill over into him and it still wouldn’t be enough. 

“I have never been more sure than I am right now.”

He knew how to fire you up. In many ways, you were both quite similar.

Restless and insatiable. 

Purposefully running your hands down his chest only to stop your exploration at his belt, the rumble in his chest was one of approval as you scratched at his abdomen through his shirt. 

You enjoyed yourself when pleasure could mix with a bit of pain, and you had an inkling that Jack did too. You wanted to deny him, reduce this enigma of a man into a begging mess before the sun came up. But your own need to be touched by him won out, and damn him for kissing you like that—as if you were the antidote to a fatal poison he had drunk in an effort to forget you. 

“You can touch me, Jack, but there’s something I want to do first.”

You meet his gaze for a brief moment as you pause in this position on top of him, being perfectly still when all you wanted was to hold him close until there was no space for questions or distractions.

An understanding passes between you both. Your body buzzes with nerves, synapses firing as all thoughts focus on the man holding you.

He grabs at your hips, whispering encouragement in your ear as he guides you to settle flush against his lap with your legs on either side of him. The zipper of his jeans and his belt buckle rubbed into your clit hard enough to make you shiver.

“ Fuck… ”  

Jack  scrapes his teeth over your jaw. Barely there. More of a breath across your cheek than anything. 

You reach back and unlatch your bra, throwing it away as he cups each breast in his calloused hands. Arching into his attentive mouth as it reached your skin, you threaded your fingers in his hair, messing up the hat flattened strands and tugging on them harder when he bit down teasingly. 

Letting your nipple go with a wet plop, he leaned back into your hands on his head.

“God, I am so fucking hard thinking about licking into that pretty pussy of yours, bet you taste real good,” Jack groaned. You answered in kind, kissing him again to swallow his words.

This was just the warm-up.

“I’m going to cum just like this against you, but if you move any more then I won’t be quite so kind later. Wanna make you earn it. I’m a generous lover, Jack, but a fair one,” you simpered, grinding almost cruelly against the hardness of him that you could feel throbbing through his pants. “You want me to be nice, don’t you?”

“Oh darlin’, I’m sure you’re sweeter than a saint,” he grunted, words stuttering as you brought his head up closer to yours, lips touching but not quite. Rotating your hips, you sigh into his mouth as you move against him. 

True to his restraint so far, he kept himself in place, his breath hot against your cheeks as your pace quickened. 

“Mmmm, can’t wait to have you inside me,” you sighed, his muscles straining beneath your fingers. Shuddering at the feeling of him under you, your first orgasm was creeping closer as it began trickling down from the tips of your fingertips. “D-don’t want you to cum until I’m done with you.”

Jack’s mouth opened partly in awe as you grinded on him with even more force. 

He had a hidden strength to him, and by the way his arms flexed around you he could have easily moved you under him at any time. The fact that he didn't demand it was arousing.

Fuck you were wet.

Tilting his head slightly, he enjoys the view of you on his lap using him for your own pleasure. Your tits bounce as you move, and he’s torn between telling you how perfect they are and moving just slightly to bury his face in your softness. He whimpered silently as you pulsed around him, able to feel it over his clothes as you threatened to unravel.

“Oh, look at you,” he exclaimed, voice a low rumble that stokes the fire in your belly. “Just like that, baby. Fuck, come on. Take what you need from me.”

He says your name once, fervent and taut, barely able to keep himself in check. The fact that he was still almost fully clothed made him need more . You were all warm skin and curves and he wanted to feel every second of you wrapped around him.

He tensed his thigh and shifted slightly but you didn’t notice as you rode out the waves of pleasure rolling over your clit.

It was exquisite and hurried and not the end goal but you didn’t mind. You had wanted to see if he would listen to you. If he could take what direction you gave him. It was an entirely different high you’d surprisingly discovered in your twenties, having a man in your control, making him beg with just your body. 

And yet, Jack did not beg for himself. The look in his eyes was expressive enough. Still he didn’t move, and that was what finally pushed you over. 

Gasping in shock, your orgasm softly washed over your skin. He eagerly watched, memorizing the way your mouth hung open at the feeling of him grabbing your hips with bruising force to drag you over him once again.

When you finally opened your eyes Jack was already looking at you, and you did not shy away. His hair was tousled from your hands, lips swollen, eyes bright—you savored him like the Kentucky whiskey on his breath. 

“Mmmm, you were so good for me,” you praised, voice heavy in your mouth as you recalled how to speak.

As you came back down he chased your lips, taking his time to touch you the way he could now that you’d fallen into his chest. His mouth was a wanting, wretched thing, tracing a path from your lips to your chest. 

You pulled back for a moment. “Do you want to switch to the–”

“I’m not done yet,” he interrupted, bringing you back into a heated kiss that had you whining into his hold on you. He slips his tongue in your mouth and seems to slow time licking into you just so, making you shiver. 

His hands were frenzied in the way they glided over all the flesh he could reach. 

You would torture him no longer.

His blunt nails traced over your spine, and you wanted to ask him to do that again. 

“Now you are a rare gift, my dear,” he hummed into your mouth. “I would hate for you to be tired already.”

“Oh, you don’t have to question my stamina,” you slyly answered. Even now you are still hazy in your bones, tethering yourself to his firm grip on your ass. “Worry about your own.”

The chuckle that leaves him is telling, and you clearly feel his frustration rolling off him now that you can think in complete sentences.

You kiss the corner of his mouth and swiftly hop off of his lap, trembling for a moment as you right yourself. There’s a slight damp spot from where you were sitting on his white shirt that had been hanging over half untucked from his jeans, but you’re too drunk on endorphins to feel embarrassed. 

You did that .

Your heart stuttered for a moment at the raw ache you saw in his face. Hooking your fingers in the slim waistband of your panties, you then cast them aside. 

It felt like an afterthought after what you had both just done, but the way Jack looked at you was anything but unappreciative. 

What you inspire in him is so erotically charged that he is momentarily struck dumb by what you do next.

Falling onto your knees you look up at him through your lashes, taking the flask attached to his belt buckle, the surface slightly wet from your release making it slick in your hands. It was silent in the apartment, the only sound Jack’s breathing as he watched you drink from the flask that he favored so much. 

You could taste yourself around the metal and lipstick and whiskey. A theme of the night it seemed.

Awareness flows down your spine at Jack’s gaze. As you take one more pull, his hands reach up to card through your hair, holding it in a makeshift ponytail, reaching for you with a finality that has you arching into him.  

You lead him into your room, wishing you had cleaned up a bit before tripping on the rug, laughing as you both stumble into your metal bed frame. 

“Now Jack,” you begin, bracing yourself for the next conversation you rarely walked into without some gut feeling bracing you up. “Do you have a safe word?”

He didn’t answer immediately, but when he did he was entirely focused on you. 

“I do, pretty girl. It’s sweet tea.”

The way his mouth caressed each syllable with that slow southern drawl shouldn’t have been as damning as it was.

“How do you feel about ropes?”

The way he lit up was thrilling. He looked away with unfocused eyes, enjoying a private joke that only he knew. It was the expression of a man that delighted in his own mystery. 

You couldn’t deny that a part of you was burning to know what he locked away. He prowled with that hidden energy, and knowing what you’d experienced of him so far, you would have to work for a proper taste.

“I happen to be quite gifted with whips and a lasso if I do say so myself. I’m rather versatile in that regard. Rest assured it is not my first rodeo.” 

“In that case cowboy, I want you...to tie me up,” you said before grazing your thumb across his bottom lip. He nodded slightly surprised, with the way you had directed him earlier he had thought you’d wanted to tie him up instead.

 It wasn’t like he couldn’t escape from some ropes if he really needed to.

He had been amazing under you before, but you wanted more. You wanted him to take your body and make your need dissolve on your tongue as you cry. You wanted it to hurt.

Jack felt like you could read his mind, look into the very heart of him and learn all of his desires. Palming himself over his jeans, he imagined the warmth of your mouth and had to stop from outpacing himself.

You walked into your closet with purpose, toeing on your favorite pair of stiletto heels as you grabbed your selection of ropes from where they’re hidden.

His eyebrow ticks up at the sight of you naked with only your Louboutins on, the black ropes in your hands are just as daring. He waits for you to settle onto the pillows of your bed before methodically tying your hands to hooks in the wall on either side of your headboard.

 It took him a few moments but his knots were sound, loose enough but tight on your wrists so you couldn’t break free. You were grudgingly impressed with how fast Jack could work when he was motivated, filing it away where you could exploit later.

He throbs at the salacious painting you rendered, spread out and glowing in the warm lighting of the room. With your opened legs you were vulnerable and slick and soft. 

Jack didn’t want to wait any longer before losing himself in you.

He shifted down to lay himself between your parted legs. You swiftly stopped him with your left leg extended fully out, the stiletto of your heel digging into his lowered shoulder as he kneeled on the bed. The startled look on his face made you tease him, grinding it in a little further before moving it down his chest to stop at the length of his cock straining for freedom. 

Pressing down.

The choked groan that he involuntarily let out was painfully erotic. You wish you could record it and hit rewind.

“Hold your horses, Jack. You have far too many clothes on. Strip for me first before you get what you want.”

To his credit he didn’t jump up and frantically discard the remainder of his clothing. Like you before his expression turned calculating, methodically shifting off the bed and taking off his shirt and discarding his pants along with his underwear. All are then folded on your nightstand, neat and pricise to minimize wrinkles.  

You swallow at the way he ignores your anticipation, but it brings no relief. 

His skin is tan like the rest of him, belly soft and strong before a small trail of dark hair leads down to the base of his cock sitting heavy against his stomach. 

You imagine tracing your tongue over every inch of him seeing where he’d fracture and break in your hold, only to put him back together again when he asked.

He was incredibly distracting like that when he wanted to be.

Captivated, your eyes stop back at his chest, small faded scars criss-crossing his skin, one worryingly close to his heart that had you straining for a closer look. His muscles ripple as he moves, the veins of his arms as formidable as the rest of him. 

Jack was focused as he finally settled low on the bed, fingers ghosting over skin as he hitched your legs over his shoulders. Kissing and nipping at the inside of your thigh, he took in a deep breath and let out a little hum, puffs of air hitting your pussy as he adjusted.

He leaned his head on your left thigh and looked up at you briefly.

“You remember the safe word, sweetheart?” He asked. You nodded, almost drunk at the heat of him crowding you. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes Jack, I remember it’s sweet tea. Now are you going to eat my pussy like you mean it or do I need to get myself off again?” You answered, tapping your leg down on his back knowing fully well how it would rile him up.

He grins at you savagely, leaning down the remaining space to lick a long stripe all the way up your folds. 

You buck into his mouth, your already sensitive clit coming alive again. He moves his arms to cage your hips in his hold, bringing you flush to his tongue by grabbing onto your ass. 

He was nestled between your legs, mapping your body with licks and handprints. Your half-formed praises and keening whine made Jack a mess of a man, grinding into the mattress as he drank up everything you could give him.

He loved your voice and the way it scattered into nothing when he sucked your clit into his mouth. He made no pretense at staying quiet, noisy and whole in his destruction of you.

Coming up for air, his mustache glistened, cheeks red from his own harsh breathing against your cunt. His lips were wet and you wanted to taste yourself when he kissed you. He reaches down for a moment and pumps himself harshly, tightly fisted and the sound he lets out...you feel it like a pulse.

His nose brushes you as he dives back in. If he could sink underneath your skin you would burst. 

He slides two fingers inside, your muscles clenching around him as far as he could go. Curling his fingers upward and holding them there, a hot fusion of unnamed pleasure and painful awareness zips through you. You can't help but squirm underneath him.

There it was.

Jack wanted you to call his name until he no longer connected it with himself, an uncontained force that compelled him to do whatever you wanted if only you'd say his name like that again. 

Wanting. 

“Fuck, when you say my name like that I just burn all over,” he murmured. “You gonna cum now, baby?”

You hum distractedly, the coiled tether in your abdomen snapping when he doubles down just right. He eagerly laps at you as your pussy flutters, climbing higher and higher until plunging you into nameless bliss. Each limb feels liquid as you touch down.

Jack keeps sucking and licking you without stopping and you can’t cover your mouth to muffle the whimpers that slip through. He adds a third finger and continues to move through each aftershock that bounces through your body.

“Come on. Lord—when you sound like that I don’t want you to stop. You’re not done yet, I know you can give me another one. Look at the way you take me in.”

You wanted to dodge his mouth as he sucked on you again, even the gentle way he prodded at you felt like too much. You weren’t going to beg yet, even for a man like Jack. Despite your discomfort you felt yourself stir again, weaker but no less corporeal, as he pressed down hard on your clit with a pressure that made your breathing pick up.

With effort you rocked into him once more and strained to lock your legs around his head, squeezing when he nipped at you. A handful of minutes later you were boneless and spent, legs trembling as he drew your pleasure out.

 He moaned at the feeling of being utterly surrounded, desperately sending you over again so that he could breathe. 

You couldn't think past the wall of sensation you were being held against without mercy.

This orgasm was harder than the last, a juggernaut that only built on the first. A few silent tears trailed down your face, so overcome that his facial hair burned similar to the hand shaped bruise already forming on your hip. 

You close your eyes so tightly that sunbursts bloom behind your eyes as you breathe through it.

Standing up to catch his breath, he used some of the slick on his fingers to slowly cover his shaft, aching from being hard for so long already. From the sheer size and weight of him that you can see, you’re glad for the bottle of lube on your bedside table, though you’re so wet it probably didn’t matter.

Jack settles himself over you, tugging you up into a fierce, messy kiss, teeth and tongues and harsh breaths traveling from his mouth into yours. 

You were so relaxed that the stretch of him affected you only for a moment as he buried himself inside you. The gasp when he moves catches in your throat, a ghost of all the pleasure he had given you just moments before leaving your body.  

 His voice stutters as he slowly thrusts inside of you, setting a steady pace. “Should keep you right here just like this, make you cum until you forget your own name. Would you like that? Take care of you like no one else will?”

You swear, picturing his words as they traced themselves down your body. As heavy as the feeling of Jack resting his weight on you was, you thrived on it. Your arms felt strained from being tied, but he curled around you just so, keeping you both connected for as long as possible.

Jack’s arms flexed as he adjusted to reach for you, extending his fingers until they pressed into your parted lips.

Swirling your tongue around his two fingers, you could taste yourself on his skin. He then leaned down and used them to press into your clit. It had you closing your eyes, too overwhelmed to speak through it. 

You didn't have any smart comebacks in you now.

His unrelenting tempo jostled the bed against the wall. Moving back to lean on his heels, Jack pistoning into you at this new angle was overwhelming but you simply didn’t care. He yelled out in a voice you almost didn't recognize, hoarse and wet as it ripped from his chest.

“Come on Jack, cum in me,” you panted. “ Fuck , I know you’re close. Can feel you aching for it. You’ve been so patient. So good . ”

You intentionally clench around him like a vice, and it has him tumbling into his own release moments later with a startled shout.

Satisfaction seizes his veins in a chokehold.

He collapses into your chest, the both of you covered in a slight sheen of sweat that was beginning to dry in the cool air.

Whimpering slightly as he pulled out, he worked through his own lethargy to take care of you.

He leaned up and undid the knots holding you hostage. Immediately your arms flop onto the mattress, the burn of your muscles just adding to the mental catalog of sensations you take stock of. With Jack resting on your chest you card your fingers through his hair, the both of you too out of breath to say anything for a few moments. 

The weight of him on top of you kept you grounded.

Warm. Languid. Eyes drifting closed at how heavy you feel. 

“You are gonna be the death of me, woman.” 

“Mhmmm, if that’s the case then I’ll wait to tell you my proposal then. Wouldn’t wanna kill you before another round, Whiskey.”

He lifts his head from your chest at that.

“What did you just call me?” He asked, eyes unreadable as they scan your face. You didn’t care, the words light in your mouth as they leave you.

“Whiskey. You taste like it. And if you think this is the only time I take you to bed, then let me inform you: I still need to drink my fill of you.”

He scratched at his mustache for a moment in thought before he smiles, the most genuine of the night that makes his eyes crinkle with laughter. There it was again, that secret in his expression that has you eager to ask what he’s hiding.

“You’re a very perceptive person, honey. I am thoroughly surprised by you. Tell me what you have in mind when I come back.”

He jumps out of bed to walk into your en suite bathroom, his ass distracting as you watch him fumble around before returning with a warm washcloth to clean you up.  Each brush of his hands on your body is gentle, reverent even as it glides over you. He kisses where your hands had been bound, asking if he was too rough.

You almost laughed. 

You liked it that way. 

Something inside you wanted to stay in the moment, gazing at each other in the dimly lit room. Not forever, just a little longer. You imagine him walking away from you out the door, and it puts an unpleasant feeling in your gut, like you wouldn’t see him again.

You had the sneaking suspicion that if Jack didn’t want to be found he’d disappear.

“So I was thinking,” you began, finally tossing your stilettos off the bed to lay under your quilt. “I have an ungodly expensive espresso machine that makes a decent latte and fresh beans in the kitchen. How about we take a quick nap and then fire it up before round two? I heard once that drinking coffee makes the sex even better.”

“Don’t you mean rounds three and four?” He teased, that ego of his purring at the thought of how much you spasmed and shook around him.

If you weren’t so relaxed you would have probably grabbed onto his balls in response, made him swear around that crooked smile of his.

You'd learn how he liked it and edge him until he melted out of his damn cowboy boots. The thrill of him was delicious, and you hadn't gotten to take a true bite out of him yet.  

“You think you can go another round later and finally ride this prize stallion?” 

That makes you slap at his shoulder. His laugh diffused whatever seriousness lingered and you readily agreed, the both of you winding down as exhaustion hits.

 As his arms settle around you, you imagine the potential of a future with this man of mystery.

 He had barely scratched the surface of what made you wild, and you wanted to change that. Leaving Wonderland with him tonight was an event you were eager to repeat. 

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

IX ║ Warmblood

Jack Daniels x f!reader

{ Part 8: Silver Pony | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E

Summary: The hardest goodbye you'll ever say.

Warnings: Mentions of food and cooking, angst, feelings, flirting, sexual innuendoes, semi-pubic sex, oral sex (F receiving), risky unprotected sex (wrap it up, kids!), dirty talk, language, no use of Y/N

Word count: 7.6k

Notes: Here we are, at the end of the longest packtrip ever, and we did it with only one (1) little meltdown last night 😜 More notes at the end, but I just want to say - this has been a once-in-a-lifetime story for me. If a fic can be a soulmate, Palomino is mine.

Thank you for coming on this journey with me, I love every single one of you ❤️ Last thing, I never do this, but I must insist that you play this song when you get there. You'll know when 🥹

Warmblood: An athletic, agile horse that is noted for its trainability and usually calm temperament, is commonly used in equestrian competition, and typically possesses Thoroughbred, Arabian, and draft horse bloodlines.

Your awakening is gentle, soft and blurry around the edges, as if you’re looking through the lens of a Polaroid camera, tinted in sepia. The morning hour creeps across the ceiling of Jack’s bedroom in equal parts light and shadow, the curtains having been left undrawn last night. A crack in the window lets in the faintest breeze, but mutes all the sounds you’ve grown used to seeking out first thing in the morning, when your eyelids are too heavy to lift.

The hum of flying things, feathered or otherwise, charting their flight paths in your head by the buzz of their wings. The brush of the wind like a hand combing through grass and meadow. Even the sun speaks in the morning, raw energy strumming between constantly shifting air particles.

This stillness comes off as almost - unnatural. Even when straddling the divide between sleep and wake, you feel yourself making tiny adjustments to the physicality of being indoors again. Regret stains the corners of your consciousness, knowing it won’t take you long to recalibrate. Your body will return to what it knows, shedding your once-upon-a-time existence in the mountains like a coat discarded at the turn of the season. 

When the mattress dips behind you, sensation floods your veins like a shock to the system, flushing out the pins and needles in your limbs that you haven’t even noticed. Jack is warm and solid behind you, where he belongs. One leg nudged between yours, his sun-kissed arm across your waist, the only thing keeping you from tumbling off the edge. His breath whistles sweetly over the shell of your ear, and you smile. You don’t have to look over your shoulder to know that his mouth is parted in slumber.

The next time you come to, it’s the rude buzz of metal on wood that jolts you out of sleep. You squeak when Jack follows, almost inadvertently shoving you off the bed as he startles awake. But thankfully, his instincts are fully intact, and he catches you squarely in the stomach, biceps flexing as he pulls you back into his chest with an easy strength.

‘Sorry, darlin’,’ he rasps groggily, burying his face in your neck in an apology. You uncoil in a languid stretch, opening up your throat to the rough scratch of his moustache, wanting to feel the burn.

‘Phone, cowboy,’ you gripe when the vibration doesn’t stop.

With a heave-ho, Jack reaches over you to grab it, before falling back onto the mattress so heavily that the bedframe shakes. Rubbing his thumb and index finger over his eyes, he grouses into the receiver, ‘What?’

Teak’s voice on the other line is clear as day even though he’s not on speaker. ‘Where are you, man?’

You burrow into Jack’s side, and the wide span of his palm on your hip holds you to him possessively. ‘Where do you think I am?’

‘Listen. Poppy made sausage gravy and buttermilk pancakes. Y’all know what that means.’

You venture a peek at Jack, whose lips are pursed thoughtfully. You prompt, ‘What does it mean?’

He smiles down at you. ‘She really likes you, darlin’.’

Teak interrupts with a scoff. ‘Like her? She’s basically adopting you, sunshine!’

Your lips wobble - if you soften any further, you might melt into the mattress.  ‘Oh, Poppy.’

‘Look, I’ve been stallin’ them, but they’re fixin’ to break down her door. You lovebirds best get here quick!’

Tossing away his phone without a goodbye, Jack drops a kiss to your forehead. ‘Listen, we don’t have to go anywhere, you stay here and I’ll make you - cereal in bed?’ He pauses with a wince. ‘Actually, I’m outta milk. And cereal.’

You chuckle, reaching up to run your fingers through his endearingly askew bed hair. ‘It’s ok, cowboy, we should go. I need to pack anyway.’

Your tummy takes the inopportune moment to rumble audibly, and he pins you with a knowing look. ‘And you want that sausage gravy, don’t you?’

‘Shut up,’ you laugh, pushing him off the bed.

When you step out of Jack’s bedroom in last night’s clothes after a quick refresh in his neat ensuite, he’s already outside, warming up the Silver Pony.

The house is even cosier in the morning. Facing east, daylight fills every corner of every room, bringing out the patterns in the wooden panels. Your gaze lingers where you can’t. You want to study the cracked spines of the paperbacks on his bookshelf one by one, you want to press your nose into the shirts hanging in his closet, you want to peer around the door to a second room that is temptingly ajar - 

‘Darlin’?’

You look up, and Christ on a cracker - it’s downright unfair that even after a week of spending every waking minute together, this damn cowboy can still make your heart skip a beat just by standing.

Jack is on the doorstep, in what you assume is his ‘off-duty’ uniform. Instead of a plaid shirt, he’s wearing a simple white tshirt with a round neck that is decidedly not sweat- nor dirt-friendly, tucked loosely into the waistband of dark jeans that look a bit more polished, and if you would believe it, even tighter than the pair he wears in the saddle. While it’s business as usual with the Stetson and work boots, something unfamiliar hangs from the neckline of his top.

Plucking the gold-rimmed aviators from his tshirt, you slide them onto your face, winking at him through the tinted lens. ‘Nice shades. Gotta say, I didn’t peg you for such a snazzy dresser off the trail.’

He grins, all tidy teeth with a deliberately libertine edge, clearly enjoying the attention. Scooping you into his broad frame, he drawls, ‘Gotta look good for the ladies in town, y’know. They’re famished ‘cause you been hoardin’ me all week, darlin’.’

With an exaggerated huff, you elbow past him. ‘I don’t know how you manage to zip your ego into those tightass pants, cowboy!’

‘With lots of practice,’ he retorts, smacking you firmly on the backside.

‘Do you need your sunnies?’ you ask as you climb onto the Silver Pony behind him, pushing the aviators a bit higher on your nose where they’ve slid down.

He shrugs. ‘Keep ‘em. Gives you a reason to come back.’

You smile into his broad shoulders, palms sliding to interlock over his soft belly. The bike revs, startling a flock of birds into flight from a nearby tree, and you realise those six little words are the first to breach the subject of what comes after - which will come to be in a matter of hours, with your flight in the early afternoon, a prospect suddenly so frighteningly real. 

But in the same breath, it becomes blindingly clear that you don’t even need to hear the words.

Because you know there is a space for you in his bed, tucked into his body, curled around you. A spot for you under his arm resting on the back of his couch in the living room, in front of a woodfire when it snows outside. A seat for you at the back of his motorcycle, where you are now, breezing effortlessly downhill towards the ranch, the white fences and red roofs winking at you between the gaps in the trees that line the winding country roads.

When you dream in the months to come, you will always smell pine, white cotton, and well-worn leather as the Silver Pony carries you home.

It’s a shorter drive than you remember. Jack’s watch reads just past half eight when you pull into the parking lot. He kills the engine as you dismount, passing him your star-spangled helmet to be returned to its place in the little cabinet for next time. You’ve turned on your heel towards the ranch when a hand on your wrist grounds you to the spot.

Hands that have made you feel safe, protected, wanted in turn over the past week.

There’s no fanfare, no declarations, as you watch Jack lace his fingers with yours, filling the gaps and the tips curling into the valleys between your knuckles. Palm to weathered palm, calloused from ropework and heavy lifting, you look up to meet his eyes. 

He peers at you, almost shyly, an incomprehensible notion after all that he’s done to you, and what you’ve done to him, across the expanse of the Wyoming wilderness. But there’s a chastity to this simple action, and you find your throat tight when he asks, ‘Is this ok, darlin’?’

Your heart swells, as if it’s going to grow claws and tear itself right out of your chest cavity. Bringing up your tangled hands, you brush a kiss across his knuckles, and his whole countenance lifts with the upward curl of his mouth. 

‘Yes, cowboy.’

The Statesman is putting on a show for your last morning. The sun is out, climbing high into the cloudless sky, with Jack’s aviators bearing the brunt of the harsh glare. It’s déjà vu when you retrace the path you took on the day of your arrival, the same crunch of gravel under your boots, the familiar scent of hay and horse on the breeze. 

The bird’s eye view of the ranch has your breath stuttering just like that first time you cast your gaze on the green pastures and the red roofs. And beyond, like a perfectly painted stage set piece, the Bighorns loom tall and majestic. You’ve seen the mountains in all their incarnations over the past week - they change colour as the sun and clouds move during the day, and sometimes, you swear they morph in shape too. 

It strikes you suddenly that just yesterday, you were but three specks moving across the vast landscape, the realisation almost bowling you over. 

Before all this, it wouldn’t have taken much to convince yourself that you don’t deserve it. That it was the horses doing all the legwork and Jack the navigating, that you haven’t really done anything but sit in the saddle. But something’s shifted, it’s been a baptism by long summer days and the great outdoors - and damn it all, you’re proud of yourself. 

You came on this trip alone, with nothing but a broken relationship behind you, a suitcase full of anxieties and riding gear covered in years of dust and neglect. You said yes, perhaps recklessly, when offered the chance to spend a week alone in the mountains with a complete stranger and the glamour of sleeping bags and portable showers, when it would’ve been easier (and certainly more comfortable) to turn it down. 

Somehow, you’ve come out the other end, long gallops over untouched grassland and starry campfire nights piecing you back together, only to fall so damn hard for this cowboy that you’re sure to break again when you get on that plane this afternoon -

An unexpected tug on your arm has you tumbling clumsily. ‘Jack!’

He arches an eyebrow and remarks, ‘Ain’t heard those cogs in your pretty head grind that loud since the first coupl'a days, darlin’.’

You shrug and, not wanting to sour the mood, deflect his attention with a lighthearted fib. ‘Just realised that I didn’t even come close to falling off once the entire week.’

When he chuckles, the thought comes to you that you’ll miss the way he laughs with his whole body. 

‘You did real good for your first rodeo,’ he pauses, then flashes you a lascivious smirk. ‘You ain’t bad at ridin’ bareback either.’

A rebuke of his crude quip is on the tip of your tongue, but then your nose picks up on the scent of bitter coffee and maple syrup, which is quickly followed by the sighting of the al fresco table set up not far from the grill last night, the singe of smoke and whiskey still hanging in the air.

From a distance, you can see Poppy and Champ engaged in what looks like a heated debate, both gesticulating wildly with fork and knife. On the opposite side of the table, an unbothered Teak mows down his breakfast as if he’s heard it all before, and Ginger is feeding Jameson pancakes under the table.

It’s the younger cowboy who spots you two first. He freezes, brows disappearing under the brim of his Stetson when his eyes flit downwards to your interlocked hands. A huge grin would’ve split his handsome face in two if his mouth wasn’t stuffed full of half-chewed pancakes. The beans are well and truly spilled when Jameson comes bounding over, barking his demands for morning cuddles.

Champ looks up, his argument with Poppy promptly dropped. ‘Aha! There she is! Howdy young lady, we were just wonderin’ where you -’ 

He halts mid-sentence, his head whipping towards his right where the guest lodges are situated beyond the stables, decidedly not the direction you’re coming from. The penny drops as he takes in your hand in Jack’s, eyes wide, and all the occupants of the table seem to inhale a collective breath that stops you in your tracks.

But not Jack. He ignores the gawking with a practised air of been there, done that, and ushers you into the empty seat next to Teak without skipping a beat. Planting a sweet peck on your cheek, he settles to your left and unfolds his starched napkin with a flourished flick of his wrist, which he tucks into the neckline of his tshirt.

‘Mornin’,’ he addresses the silent table in an exaggerated southern drawl. ‘If y’all would be so kind to shut your mouths, you’re embarrassin’ me in front of my lady. Now, pass the coffee if you please, Teak.’

Fittingly, it’s Champ who breaks the silence with a rip-roaring howl of laughter, palms hitting the table so hard you’re convinced everything on it jumps a foot from the surface, the ruckus sending Jameson scampering for cover. ‘Well, well, well! Butter my butt and call it a biscuit!’

Poppy leaps to her feet, halfway to the kitchen before shouting over her shoulder. ‘We’re celebrating! This calls for strawberry milkshake!’

Teak elbows you in the side. ‘Just so y’know, Poppy ain’t the type to make strawberry milkshake for just anybody.’ He salutes you with a crooked grin. ‘Welcome to the family, sweetheart.’ 

It’s a brand of chaos that is distinctly Statesman. Ginger and Champ are fighting each other to load up your plate with far too much food over your protests, Teak pours coffee into your glass and orange juice in the mug, and Jameson is probing your knees under the table for scraps. You meet Jack’s eyes, and he grins back at you with a wink over the rim of his cup.

There’s no reason why you should be this hungry after the barbeque last night, but you don’t stop until you’ve polished off the sausage gravy and biscuits, the welcome richness settling in the pit of your stomach and making you second guess if you have any room left for pancakes.

‘Young lady, I hope this means you forgive me for the strings I pulled to set you two up,’ pipes up Champ around a mouthful of bacon, washed down by black coffee.

‘You’ll hear no complaints from me, sir,’ you reassure him.

He raises a fist in a pantomime of indignation. ‘You wouldn’t believe the grief Jack and Ginger put me through for playin’ matchmaker! I demand a retraction from y’all!’

Ginger raises both hands in surrender. ‘Fine, I take it all back, even if it means you’ll be downright insufferable about it! But I’ll happily live with that!'

Jack slings an arm around your shoulder. ‘It kills me to say it, but you have damn good taste, boss.’

‘Well, y’all know what they say - ain’t a pot too crooked that a lid won’t fit!’ needles Teak.

‘Hey!’ You reach across to slap him on the arm as Jack chuckles behind you. ‘I don’t see you with a lid, you loud-mouthed kettle!’

Teak sasses back, ‘Fine, fine, how ‘bout - there ain’t a man that can’t be thrown, or a cowboy that can’t be rode -’

Right on cue, Poppy’s distant shout interrupts, ‘Tequila!’

Jumping onto his feet, the cowboy winks at you. ‘Hold that thought, sunshine - right away, ma’am!’

Unperturbed by the double entendres, Champ brings the conversation right back around. ‘Well, I do declare, this nosy old man gets it right -’

‘For once!’ heckles Ginger.

‘Joke’s on you, m’dear. I only need to be right once!’

There are oohs and ahhs when Poppy and Teak reappear with the decadent milkshakes in retro fountain glasses, topped with whipped cream and strawberry slices, distributed around the table.

‘So, what are we drinking to?’ asks Poppy.

You turn to Jack, holding up your milkshake. ‘To crooked pots.’

There are cheers and laughs up and down the table, and Jack clinks your glass with a grin as he adds, ‘And cowboys that can be rode.’

You think about the cassette tapes that you used to watch when you were young. How at the end of a film, the black tape is all rolled up in the right window, and you were always the one to press the rewind button on the VCR. You still remember the whirr of the film as it went backwards, round and round, right back to the beginning.

When the coffee has gone cold and the morning chores come calling, the breakfast table empties, and you hear the click of that button when Jack offers you his upturned palm to walk you back to your cabin.

The tape rewinds as you pack. The outfit you agonised over that first day or your introductory ride with the cowboy has been laundered, and you slowly fold up each piece - the jodhpurs, the plaid shirt, the socks - and put them into your open suitcase.

The tape rewinds as you close the door to the cabin, and Jack carries your luggage across the yard in one hand, yours nestled snugly in his other.

The tape rewinds as you walk by the stables - you nip in quickly to say goodbye to Whiskey and Bourbon - past the main lodge, and the grazing field next to the parking lot.

Putting your suitcase down, Jack whistles with his fingers, the sound carrying in the wind. You see a familiar golden head pop up from across the field, and your nose prickles with the threat of tears as you watch Scotch canter towards you, ears forward and tail swishing with an attitude you can spot from a mile away. Climbing onto the first rung of the fence, you throw your arms around his neck and bury your face into his snowy mane as he snoops around your pockets, always looking for treats.

You pull an apple out of your travel bag, neatly cut in two. Scotch nickers, his velvety nuzzle tickles as he carefully plucks each half from your palm.

Combing through his forelock, you coo at him, ‘I’m gonna miss you, boy. You behave with your rider next week, you hear me?’

The key is already in the ignition of your rental pickup when Champ puts your suitcase and tote bag on the backseat floor, while Teak and Jack load the Silver Pony onto the back. 

Your arm almost falls out of its socket when Poppy passes you the promised takeaway lunch, packed into a chiller bag. 

‘You’re flying Delta right?’ she asks. ‘I’ll call them up with instructions on how to heat up the food. It’ll be good as fresh off the barbeque.’

‘Thank you so, so much Poppy,’ you say as she pulls you into a warm hug. ‘I hope you know you’ve ruined food for me. Nothing will ever come close to being good enough.’

She winks. ‘You’re welcome, honey. Come back soon, ok? There’s more where it came from!’

Ginger is next, and emotion clutches at your chest as you squeeze her slender frame in a tight embrace. ‘Just so you know, I was furious that you wouldn’t give me a refund when I called you up all those months ago.’

‘What can I say? I’m a tough cookie,’ she giggles, and hangs onto you for just a moment longer. ‘I’m so glad you didn’t cancel on us.’

Champ surprises you, forgoing your outstretched hand and giving you a hug for the first time. His tweed suit is softer than expected under your cheek, and smells like pipeweed and leather. 

‘It’s been an absolute pleasure, young lady. I’m sure we’ll see you again very soon,’ he winks. ‘And I’ll be in touch about the social media.’

Three steps away, Teak is waiting with his arms crossed, and he pushes off the truck to bundle you into his embrace, the hug as big and as bear-like as him, which makes you chuckle.

‘Anything parting Southern wisdom for me?’ you quip.

‘I’m all out, sweetheart,’ he says, giving you a pat on the back. ‘’Cept, y’know, that cowboy’s been grinnin’ like a possum eatin’ a sweet ‘tater all week, and it’s damn annoyin’.’

Jack rolls his eyes, one palm on your back as he herds you towards the truck. ‘C’mon, darlin’, we should make a move.’

Saving himself for last, Jameson trots up to you with a bark, tail wagging. The grass is warm and tickles your bare knees when you crouch down to give him one last hug, giggling at the wet kiss he leaves on your cheek. 

The leather of the passenger seat is soft as you sink down into it, while Jack closes the door behind you and crosses to the driver’s side. Inhaling deeply as the engine starts with a rusty rumble, you look up when he gives your hand a grounding squeeze.

‘Ready, darlin’?’

You nod, though not entirely convincingly. ‘Let’s go, cowboy.’

The Statesman gets smaller and smaller behind you as the truck eases down the driveway, and the four figures waving in the rearview mirror blur into tiny shadows through the mist of your tears. The metal frame of the vehicle squeaks with the movement as it rolls over bumps on the long dirt track, at the end of which, Jack takes a right with a one-handed turn of the steering wheel onto the main road, and the ranch slips out of sight.

The midday sun streams through the windshield, hot on your skin. You’re glad you changed out of the jeans from last night into a lightweight dress, a slightly frivolous last-minute addition to your luggage that’s paid off. 

Staring out of the open window at the rolling landscape, it takes you right back to exactly eight days ago when you were driving down the dusty road - except this time, the Bighorn Mountains are behind you, and next to you is a cowboy instead of an empty seat. 

Unabashedly, you watch him drive. His right hand is woven in yours, disengaging only to shift gears every now and then. Under the brim of his hat, his eyes are on the road, occasionally darting sideways to find himself on the receiving end of your attention.

It’s certainly an adjustment to see him in the driver’s seat after a week in the saddle - Whiskey’s, then the Silver Pony’s. But it doesn’t matter, there’s no mistaking the competence behind his every movement, be it to ease his horse to a slower gait with the lightest closing of his fingers on the leather reins, or to redirect the truck with an effortless palm on the steering wheel -

‘Take a picture, it’ll last longer,’ he drawls, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.

‘Not long enough,’ you grumble, shuffling in close.

He half-turns, moustache brushing your temple as he murmurs, ‘Have I told you that you look beautiful in that dress?’

You press a secret smile into his shoulder. ‘You sure you don’t prefer me in jodhpurs?’

Untangling his fingers to slide blunt nails under the hem of your dress and up the inside of your leg, he replies diplomatically, ‘I can see pros and cons to both.’

Your breath hitches with a warning, but the instinctive parting of your thighs gives you away. ‘Cowboy -’

You startle at what sounds like a sudden crack of thunder, but it turns out to be an enormous interstate truck charging down the opposite lane. In a panic, your knees snap shut, trapping Jack’s wandering hand between the soft cushion of your legs. To your chagrin, he makes a point of waving to the driver as he passes by.

‘Jack, he definitely saw your hand up my dress!’ you chide.

He flashes you a knowing smirk, and you shudder when he digs into the meat of your thigh with a firm squeeze. ‘Somethin’ tells me you enjoyed that, darlin’.’

Your mouth opens, ready to object, but a familiar heat warms the back of your neck the same time your throat goes dry. It’s the same thrill from last night, in the cellar, not knowing if you’ll get caught bent over a whiskey cask, jeans pulled down just enough so that this cowboy could bury his cock deep inside you. 

Despite yourself, you shift in your seat, and Jack’s knuckles scrape the fast dampening seat of your panties. Choking on a strangled noise, he turns his wrist so that he can rub the outline of your folds through the thin fabric, his knuckles going white on the steering wheel. ‘Fuck. I feel that, darlin’.’

Another car comes down the opposite lane, a smaller sedan this time, and you’re bold enough to spread your thighs, letting him slip under your panties.

The car swerves sharply as hisses at the wetness he finds, fingertip gliding slickly between the lips of your pussy, smearing the mess all over as your hips rock into the contact. 

Through gritted teeth, Jack groans, ‘Darlin’, you’re soaked for me.’

‘Pull over. Now.’

He does - parking haphazardly behind a tree, barely a couple of yards off the main road before killing the ignition. 

You mount him immediately, throwing your right leg over his lap as if pulling yourself into the saddle, the pain an afterthought when your knee jams into the control panel on the door in your haste. Jack grunts as your hips slot flush against his, his usual composure nowhere to be found as he’s caught between undoing his seatbelt, pushing your dress up and scrabbling down the sides of the driver’s seat for the adjustment lever.

The sudden recline of the seatback pulls a squeak from you while knocking Jack’s hat clean off, and you follow to claim his lips in a messy kiss as he palms the swell of your ass.

‘Jesus Christ,’ he bites out, rocking up against your pussy, head thrown back. ‘You’re so fuckin’ sexy.’

He doesn't question you when you climb over him, taking the chance to scrape open-mouthed kisses down your neck instead - and when you sit back down on your haunches, his pupils blow wide at the sight of you wearing his hat and a flirtatious grin.

‘How about now, cowboy?’ you tease.

He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing hard as his eyes darken. ‘You’ll look even better sittin’ on my face, darlin’.’

Your jaw goes slack. ‘Jack -’

‘I want to taste you one more time. Need to. Please.’

Something breaks loose inside you, unhinges, and you crawl over the length of his lean body to steal a bruising kiss that has him hot in pursuit when you pull back. The hem of the dress brushes his face when your knees make landing on the backseat, on either side of the headrest he’s lying on. Reaching for the grab handle above, you pull yourself upright, bracing the roof of the truck while you hover over his beautiful nose.

Calloused fingers bunch up your dress to the waist, and Jack hums at the display of your drenched panties, before hooking one thumb around the seams and pulling it unceremoniously to one side.

‘Look at that pussy,’ he groans brokenly. ‘Always fuckin’ soakin’ for me. Just beggin’ for me to taste it, hmm?’

‘Jaaaack,’ you whine on an exhale. Looking down at how he’s so wantonly eyeing you, your back arches with a confidence you didn’t know you have. Thighs splaying wider, you know he hears the slick parting of your folds when he stutters a pained moan.

‘C’mere and let me eat that pretty pussy, darlin’.’

From the moment his lips close around your clit in a sloppy suckle, you know this is a different beast from that first time he took you apart with his mouth, deep in the mountains, under the secret cloak of night. The afternoon sun casts shadows where his brow is creased in studious concentration, his keen gaze flitting from where he delicately holds you open with his fingertips, to your cleavage, to your face, and all the way down again. Every twitch of muscle, every whimper caught in the web of his determination to relish all of you.

In no mood to tease, each measured lick and curl of his tongue hits its mark, your physical reflexes compounded by this show of devastating competence. He draws desperate sounds that you don't even register as your own, your needy cunt leaking all over his face and chin.

‘Cowboy,’ you mewl, reaching down to coil your fingers into his hair, the strands beaded with sweat and sticking to his forehead as he doubles down. Your squirming only makes him tighten his grip on your hips to hold you still, the bite of his fingers bordering on painful. ‘I’m so close -’

The insides of your thighs are cool and slippery, a sensation you’re well used to now, his spit and your slick completely soaking through your panties. His three-day stubble rubs your sensitive skin raw, and the top of his Stetson bumps against the ceiling as you angle your hips to catch his puckered lips where you need him most, chasing friction.

‘Jack,’ you whimper when you feel the first spark of orgasm deep inside you, the spiral instant and relentless. ‘Jack, Jack, oh fuck, - I’m there, that’s it - I’m cumming, don’tstopdon’tstopdon’t -’

Somewhere on the fringes of your scattered mind, you’re aware that the windows are down, not that you can do anything about it now - you thrash and wail and sob his name, all the while he laps at the mouth of your throbbing cunt. The sounds are obscene as he slurps and wrings every last drop of you until you’re pushing him away, nerves firing blindly from overstimulation, choking hoarsely when you catch your breath.

Watching you in a drunken daze, Jack finally draws back with a lewd pop, wiping his thoroughly soaked chin on your knee, which narrowly misses his nose as a violent, full-body shudder ripples through you.

‘Relax, darlin’,’ he cooes. All your joints have capitulated, so Jack has to bodily rearrange you, dislodging your shaky knees from his shoulders down to his sides to pull you in for a kiss. You moan at the sticky release his moustache smears all over your face, the taste of yourself thick and heavy on his tongue.

His brown eyes snap open when you sneak between your bodies to palm his erection through his jeans, voice strained. ‘Darlin’, we ain’t got the time -’

Deftly undoing his belt, that damned flask-shaped buckle that looks as ridiculous as the first time you laid eyes on it, you assure him, ‘Don’t worry, it won’t take long.’

He arches an eyebrow, taking in your face shadowed by his cowboy hat, but stays put otherwise, almost docile as he lets you take the reins. ‘Is that so? And you’re so confident, how?’

Shoving down his boxers and jeans, his cock springs free, hard and ready. With a brazen grin, you sit up and line yourself up to the swollen tip, declaring, ‘Because I want you to cum inside me, cowboy.’

You’re not sure if it’s you sinking down on him, or him snapping his hips upwards. All you know is that by the time your head catches up, he’s driven to the hilt inside you.

‘What are you - fuck you’re so tight -’ he wheezes against your lips, giving you no pause as he ruts into you recklessly, the crude slap of skin on skin filling every space the truck. ‘Whatcha mean by cummin’ inside you?’

‘I don’t know how I can be more clear, cowboy,’ you sass, when a particularly deep thrust almost jolts you off his lap.

‘But you’re not on birth control, darlin’ -’ he tries to reason.

‘I’ll take the morning after pill as soon as I land,’ you promise, holding his unfocused gaze. ‘Do you trust me?’

The wind is knocked out of you when his strong arms pull you flush to his front, his answer immediate and irrevocable. ‘With everythin’.’

There’s too much going on. The coarse scratch of denim on the inside of your thighs, his nails scraping down your ass, the desperate whimpers he leaves in the secret place behind your ear. The air grows humid and thick as Jack feels himself slipping, your pussy gripping him so tightly that his eyes threaten to roll back into his skull.

He gasps in a breathless warning. ‘Darlin' -’

‘It’s ok, cowboy,’ you croon, fingers carding through his dark hair. ‘I want to feel you deep inside me. All of you.’

His bones rattle with a vicious shudder at your words. Snarling, he bucks into you at a pace so unrelenting that you cry out with each snap of his hips. 

‘Gonna stuff you so fuckin’ full,’ he vows in between slippery kisses. ‘Been wantin’ to since the first time. Gonna fill your pussy with my cum, darlin’, you’ll be drippin’ with me for days -’

‘Yes yes yes do it cowboy, please -’ you beg, voice cracking.

‘Look at me,’ he orders, nostrils flaring as you knock foreheads. ‘Look at me while I fuck you full, darlin’.’

Choking on a whine, you feel him swell inside you until he teeters right on the brink. The raw need in his eyes robs you of your breath, and you grow faint on empty lungs as you sway with him -

And then his neck strains, his hips jerk, and you feel his abdomen cave in on itself when he lets go with your name on his lips, and his on yours. A primal roar fills your ears as he pumps you full of him, spilling into you again and again until all you feel is his cum hot and deep inside you, flooding your cunt, his whole body spasming as he pants raggedly for air.

A carnal musk hangs ripe and sweltering in the confines of the truck. Floating on a lazy stupor, you draw soothing circles on his quickly rising and falling chest through the aftershocks, his tshirt clammy with sweat, heart pounding under your palm.

Jack reaches up to push off his hat so that he can see all of you before pulling you in for a lingering kiss. When he softens, his spend dribbling slow and hot out of you, two thick fingers nudge between your thighs, and your back arches when he tenderly pushes it back inside.

His plea is a hoarse mumble into the side of your neck. ‘Keep me in you, darlin’. Take me with you.’

You nod, and smile, ‘Always.’

The airport is tiny, and Jack seems to know everyone you cross paths with. From the security guard at the carpark (previously a groom at the Statesman) to the staffer at the car rental counter (Champ’s nephew), he’s busy tipping his hat and dispatching howdy’s left, right and centre.

‘Small town, huh?’ you quip.

He hums, ‘Welcome to cowboy country.’

And he definitely knows the brunette checking you in at the airline counter, all the while glowering at you over the top of your driving licence.

‘Ain’t seen you 'round town much lately, Jack,’ she says, affixing you with a none too subtle glare.

‘Y’know how it is in the summer, always busy,’ he replies a touch too politely. As soon as he drops your suitcase onto the baggage belt, he wraps one even less subtle arm around your waist and pulls you pointedly into his side.

You bite your lip as the woman’s eyes narrow and she aggressively punches your details into the computer system, surprised that the keyboard doesn’t break. Once your suitcase is on its merry way, Jack wastes no time spiriting you away from the counter without so much of a fare-thee-well.

You burst into laughter, elbowing him in the ribs. ‘Brrrrrr. That was cold!’

Jack pinches the bridge of his nose, admitting, ‘To be fair to her, she didn’t catch me at my finest moment.’

‘Do I want to know?’

‘Let’s just say there ain’t enough of this ol’ cowboy to go ‘round for the ladies in town,’ he winks.

‘Well, I hope they know there’s about to be even less of you going forward,’ you sniff primly.

Preening at the possessiveness in your tone, Jack ribs, ‘A tragedy, some might say.’

You huff, but can’t help a smile. ‘Well, aren’t I lucky to have roped you in, cowboy.’

‘And she can’t even lasso!’ he teases, leaning down to steal a kiss.

Feeling eyes on you, you duck your head, protesting, ‘Jack, people are looking.’

‘Let ‘em,’ he counters, prompting a gasp from you when he brazenly squeezes your ass through your dress. ‘I’m stakin’ my claim, darlin’.’

‘You already did in the truck, cowboy,’ you remind him, instinctively rubbing your thighs together, feeling the weight of his cum wet in your panties.

He hums, as if he knows, the sound deep and satisfied. His lips linger at the crown of your head, and he holds you close with his whole body, wrapping himself around your soul.

All too soon, the old-fashioned Solari board you’re sitting under whirrs into action. The retro split-flap display spins and flips with a mechanical staccato to spell out ‘final boarding call’ next to your flight number, one of five scheduled for that afternoon. 

Stubbornly, you turn your face into Jack’s shoulder, inhaling him. He smells like horses and dappled sun filtered through leaves in a tree - you wish you could distil it into a bottle and take it with you.

You’re in denial, that much you know. You’ve warded off the thought of leaving too well, compartmentalised it and pushed it down somewhere it wouldn't be able to resurface.

But that’s the irony - even if you can keep it buried, it doesn’t change the fact that your suitcase is in the belly of the plane parked on the runway, that you’re about to leave Wyoming behind and put thousands of miles between you and this cowboy, who has gone uncharacteristically quiet as the minutes tick down.

Eventually, he murmurs slowly into your hair, as if the words are physically weighing him down. ‘C’mon, darlin.’

Your feet are heavy, dragging, and Jack has to practically strong-arm you out of the airport terminal and onto the tarmac. He holds you as you loiter at the back of the queue, until the crowd disperses, and the stewardess at the top of the boarding stairs gives you both a knowing but firm look.

That’s when the tears spill over the seams of your lashes where they’ve been teetering, held back by sheer willpower and clenched teeth. Ugly sobs bubble out of your throat, and Jack pulls you into him, his own voice thick as he rocks you soothingly. ‘It’s ok, darlin’. I’ll see you before you know it.’

‘But when?’ you wail, almost petulantly.

He answers with no hesitation, and it’s obvious to you that he isn’t just thinking on his feet, that he’s been making plans, but kept it close to his chest. 

‘We have back-to-back pack trips the next three weeks, so I can’t get away. But next month, after the Kingsman’s rescheduled bookin’, I’ll take a whole week off.’

‘That’s an entire month away,’ you grumble into the soaked front of his tshirt.

‘I know, but you’ll need time to plan all the things we’re gonna see,’ he jokes, recalling your fireside conversation. ‘You’re gonna take this country mouse to all the museums and art galleries and all kinds of big city adventures, ain’t that right?’

You give him a watery smile. ‘I stand by the sex and Thai takeaway in bed plan.’

‘Even better,’ he answers, and you hold onto the way the crease of his smile lines bring out the soul in his eyes. ‘I’ll call you, darlin’, ok?’

Somehow, you muster the good humour to tease, ‘The cool kids FaceTime nowadays, and I hear your phone doesn’t have a working camera.’

He laughs, and you can’t quite tell if it’s tears clinging to his lashes, or if it’s a trick of the light. He thumbs away the wet streaks from your cheeks, nose brushing yours in a solemn promise. ‘I’ll get a new one.’

‘Just for me?’

And then he’s kissing you, plush lips slanting across yours, dragging slow like honey. When he pulls back, he breathes, ‘Anythin’ for you, darlin’.’

Jack has to physically unclench his fingers to let you step back. When your hand slides out of his, it takes him everything not to pull you back, or run after you up the stairs. He grasps the railing so hard his knuckles go bone-white as you turn back to him one last time at the aircraft door.

You blow him a kiss, your smile brave but wobbly. ‘Goodbye, cowboy.’

He swallows hard, wanting to be strong for you, but still, his voice wavers. ‘I’ll see you, darlin’. So soon.’

You nod, your tears catching the afternoon light as the stewardess ushers you into the cabin.

Then it hits him. 

You’re not going to be in his arms when he wakes up tomorrow. You’re not going to be there when he reaches around for you - your face, your neck, your voice.

You’re not going to be there.

Jack watches your tear-streaked face appear at one of the windows, and he tries to smile at you, wishing he’d insisted on one last kiss. The heat from the jet engines and the sun is bouncing off the tarmac, but he’s cold, so cold, that his fingers have gone stiff. Nothing feels real, as if he’s been wrapped in cling film and dunked underwater, and he almost doesn’t hear the voice to his left.

The air traffic controller says apologetically, ‘’Mfraid we gotta clear the runway, sir.’

He fumbles over his words. ‘’Course. Sorry.’

Pressing his index and middle fingers to his lips, he waves the kiss at you, which you catch with your palm against the glass. Determined not to miss one single second, he slowly walks backwards with the controller beside him as he waves the batons.

He says sympathetically, ‘It’s always hard, but it gets easier.’ 

Jack glances at him with a questioning look.

He chuckles good-naturedly. ‘You ain’t the first lovelorn cowboy I seen on this runway sayin’ ‘bye to his city girl.’

His lips quirk despite himself, eyes still on you even as the plane slowly taxis away. He says, ‘I sure hope you’re right, man.’

With one last wave, the plane pivots, and you disappear around the bend.

Empty. He feels empty.

The sadness is helium in his chest, inflating between the gaps of his ribs, and he feels himself drift even with each footfall of his heavy boots on the concrete, while a dull ache ricochets in the hollow spaces of his skull.

Grappling for an anchor, Jack forces himself to focus, one thing at a time. Key in the ignition, twist, the whirr of the engine. Switching on the radio, it cackles between the frequencies as he straps his Stetson to the backseat, then swings one leg over the saddle and puts on his helmet.

The static starts taking on shape, lyrics and guitar riffs cutting through the white noise and catching his attention just as he wraps his fingers around the rubber grip of the handlebars.

I want to ride off on a palomino

Feel the fire in my breath and the breeze in my hair as I go

Why the hell am I even looking back for?

For I know, where you go my love goes

For I know, where you go my love goes

He misses the ghost of your arms around his waist, the slope of your nose tucked into his nape. He misses you. He wants to see your face the minute you get off that plane on the other side of the country. He wants to hear your voice before he goes to bed tonight. He wants to tell you mornin’ first thing tomorrow when he gets up. 

As the 737 roars overhead, the shadow passing over him, he wonders if you can spot him from the clouds. 

He’d better crack on and get to the shop in town before it closes.

Steering smoothly out of the parking lot, Jack takes a left, the Silver Pony kicking up dust with a purr as she cruises down the country roads -

The same country roads that brought you to him.

Fin

More notes: I've been writing fanfiction on and off for the past 17 years. Corny as it sounds, it feels like everything I've ever written has been leading up to this fic. I put my heart and soul into Palomino, and it's repaid me tenfold. It gave me the chance to write about my love for horses, to fall in love not only with cowboy Jack, but with Darlin', Teak, the entire cast and the horses, this whole universe that I built in my head. And it gave me all of you - the most wonderful, supportive friends and readers I've had the pleasure of writing for.

I hope I will have the chance to revisit the Palomino universe one day. But for now, I'm ridiculously proud for finishing this series and for giving it the ending it deserves. I don't think I will ever write a fic that I love so deeply again. Palomino was it for me, and I'm forever grateful that I got to share this incredible journey with all of you.

There are some special people I need to thank, please forgive me if I leave anyone out, I appreciate each and everyone of you ❤️

LJ @prolix-yuy: The wonderful friend and writer who made me fall in love with cowboy Jack in first place with her epic Westworld Whiskey series, which is also coming to an end next week. I've said this many times and I'll never stop saying it - there would've been no Palomino if not for LJ. Thank you for being my inspiration bestie, you are the literal best.

Ash @mandoblowmybackout: My OG bestie and fellow cat mum, one of the first people I screeched about cowboy Jack to, I treasure our friendship so much, thank you for your support.

Maddie @imaswellkid: Maddie, thank you for being in my corner throughout Palomino and for holding my hand when I need it (which is often). Talking to you about Palomino in person - well, talking about anything and everything to you in person - was one of the most surreal moments of last year, and I'm hoping it won't be long before I see you again.

Sil @psychedelic-ink: Sil, light of my life, thank you for always being there for me, for listening and talking me down from the ledge many times. I'm so lucky to have you, and to have you love cowboy Jack as much as I do. Talking to you is always the highlight of my day!

Peaches @ohsomightypeaches: Screaming at you/being screamed at by you about anything cowboy Jack is always so much fun, and not just Jack, but also Teak, Champ, etc.. Your love for this series is beyond infectious, thank you for your support and for always making me smile!

Skye @iamskyereads: Skye my love, I believe I was admiring you from afar when you popped up in my notifs with a reblog of the first chapter, and I remember how excited I was! So grateful that Palomino brought you into my life.

Heidi @wildemaven: Thank you for gifting Palomino with not one beautiful video edit, but also a gorgeous moodboard! You are an angel!

Jules @julesonrecord: My fellow cowboy aficionado, your enthusiasm for s'mores and Jack always makes me smile. Thank you for your support, truly.

Jo @mvtthewmurdvck: Thank you for listening to me rant and rave and holding my hand during my meltdown. I'm so grateful for you!

Snowsuit anon: It's always a joy to hear from you, and I will hold you forever responsible for sparking the snowsuit craze (affectionate) 💙 Thank you for your support my lovely!

A special shoutout to my lovely readers who have followed Palomino from the very beginning. Thank you for sticking with me, I really feel like we went on this trip together, all of us: @lola-lola-lola, @harriedandharassed, @witchisenpai, @miss-mandalorian, @fireproofmarta, @dreamymyrrh, @inkededucatednnerdy, @toomanystoriessolittletime, @freakrenaissance, @axshadows, @damnyoupedro, @thosewickedlovelies, @peridotsparadox, @radiowallet, @sherala007, @shirks-all-responsibilities

And needless to say, thank you for every single one of you (I wish I could tag everyone but we'll be here all day!), every comment, reblog, ask, tag for Palomino. You have been an absolutely joy to write for, your love and encouragement kept me going, I really don't know how I've been so lucky, y'all have my heart forever ❤️

Last but not least, thank you @saradika for these adorable dividers!

[palioom]

day eleven - sensory deprivation

pairing: jack "whiskey" daniels x f!reader

word count: 784

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; blindfold, earplugs, bondage, teasing, one brief spank, unprotected p in v

• kinktober 2023 masterlist •

She hated Jack for this. Hated that he was so knowledgeable about these things, coming to her with the idea of sensory deprivation.

She hated that she agreed to it, letting him bind her arms and legs to the bed so she couldn’t touch him. This one was barely new, but adding a blindfold and earplugs to the mix? Leaving her blind and deaf, flinching each time his rough hands touched her after what felt like ages of anticipation.

Leaving her waiting until he was back again, ghosting over her arms, her legs, then her breasts and down her stomach. Gone just before he reached where she needed him most.

Leaving her helpless because eventually even his touches stopped for a while. Suspense building, there would only be the whisper of a breath on her skin, some warmth in another place.

Maybe she was only hallucinating all of that.

Then, after many long minutes, something touched her, not his hand, quickly figuring out that it was the head of Jack’s cock which only had her squirming more.

Brushing along the inside of her thighs, warm and heavy. Hitting her clit a few times, the contact feeling like lighting zapped through her. She wanted to see him so badly as he pushed into her, wanted to hear her own moan, frustrated that she couldn’t.

So she imagined his face as he began to thrust into her, smug and his teeth showing, dark mustache wide over his lips. Dark hair dishevelled, unless he had kept his cowboy hat on.

Her other senses felt heightened, her skin on fire and that coil in her stomach quickly becoming tighter and tighter.

She only hated him more when he finally took the blindfold off of her, even the low lights hurting her eyes as everything became more clear. Happy to see again, but quickly becoming even more frustrated when she saw him moan and groan with a smirk but not being able to hear.

Tugging at her restraints, trying to get to him somehow. She missed his sounds, his touch - his hands firmly placed behind his back where he knelt between her spread legs, thrusting into her harshly. Then slowing down, shaking his head with a smirk.

Stop throwin’ a tantrum, darlin’.

She was sure that that was what he said, trying to read his lips and practically hearing him in her mind.

How cruel he was to deprive her of all of this, but she had agreed, after all. Enticed by being at his mercy in everything. No matter how much she hated him right now, it was still hot.

But she couldn’t stop squirming, trying to remove the earplugs somehow and earning a sharp slap to the inside of her thigh before he quickly pressed them in again with a stern look. The sting hurt so much more, as if he had burned her, her pussy tightening around him.

Speeding up his thrusts, he still didn’t touch her, only seeming to be more vocal, saying things she couldn’t fully understand.

Bad girl. Good girl. Darlin’. So tight. Pretty pussy. Sugar.

Just some of the things she thought she was able to read off his lips.

Only driving her more insane. Seeing him chuckle at her struggles, he put the blindfold back on, her body thrashing in frustration as he slowed once more, all the way until he was still.

She could feel him again, leaning over her, his soft, warm stomach brushing against hers and sending shivers up her spine.

His warm breath against her neck, making her whine.

Then, there he was.

“Be a good girl for this bull, cowgirl.”

The earplug gone and his deep, southern drawl so close to her ear, her orgasm surprised both of them. Tightening around his dick, finally able to hear her own moan, tears spilling down her temples as she shook.

Jack’s groan only intensified the feeling, all of it still heightened as he chased his own release, faster and faster until he pulled out and his cock sputtered all over her stomach.

Warm and sticky, then the roughness of his hands as he untied her, his beard like razor blades on her body as he kissed her.

“That was hot.” She whispered, letting him remove the other plug and hand her some water. “It felt more intense, I could see you moan.”

Jack chuckled, drawing her into an embrace, kissing her cheek.

“You were quite loud like this, sugar.” He said, and she couldn’t help the blush from creeping onto her cheeks. “Wanna do it again some time?”

She looked up at him, sitting behind her with the softest eyes and the prettiest smile.

“Hell yeah, cowboy.”

[wannab-urs]

Pedro Pascal Character Fic Recs | Vol 37

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Howdy folks!

Welcome to my bi-weekly fic rec list! This is everything I read in the last two weeks. It's... a lot. I did March Fic Madness and also just was generally in a reading mood so there's like 40 fics here. They're in alphabetical order by boy.

All info provided by the author unless it was blank, in which case I filled it in.

Constellations in his eyes

Dave York one shot by @janaispunk

Your fiancé stands you up on your birthday. Dave doesn’t.

infidelity, shitty boyfriend, angst, fluff, kissing, able-bodied reader, reader has hair, no use of y/n

What Love Means

Dave York one shot by @ravensmadreads

Dave has a panic attack and you help him through it

So David is probably ooc (but this version of him is my comfort character sorry), description of a panic attack, mentions of canon violence, and like the barest hint at smut.

The Mess of Us

Dave York one shot by @ravensmadreads

I gave david york my heart and then proceeded to bash it with a sledgehammer - forgive me :p this is the same universe as What Love Means

vague smut, lots of angst (i mean i tried), almost entirely canon compliant, vague-ish attempt at smut, mild cursing, insane use of italics.

The One

Dieter one shot by @schnarfer

If one thing had been different, would everything be different today?

Bit of emotional torment, drink and drugs references, Dieter POV, happy ending? Always Fleabag coded.

Purple Haze

Dieter one shot by @schnarfer

that boy put a spell on you

1960’s London Dieter Bravo AU, heavy on the British slang, explicit alcohol and drug references, reader is a model but no physical descriptions, outfit descriptions, swearing, sort of enemies to lovers if you squint, smut; protected PIV, light bondage, reader is in control and Dieter is a subby puddle, pet names (angel, doll, darling), light dirty talk, playful slaps. Just a note we’re always very Fleabag coded here.

House Arrest

Dieter one shot by @rulexofxnines

Dieter stays over at your place out of desperation. Things get out of hand so you take control of the situation.

forced proximity, only one bed, a goat

The Howler Monkey

Dieter one shot by @covetyou

You got him here, he was safely tucked away upstairs and everything was going, mostly, according to plan. So, who the fuck is screaming?

no smut but some nudity, implied drug use/addiction, little bit silly, mildly angsty, performance anxiety, screaming, Dieter Bravo's soft cock. basically mild hurt/comfort/fluff with my usual bit of silliness.

Vampire!Dieter

Dieter one shot by @chronically-ghosted

Interview with a vampire, gatsby style

flirting, a bit of blood, maybe dubcon due to The Thrall but i think it's safe to say we all want It from vampire!dieter, unbeta-ed because i needed to write something or someone was going to die

Brick House

Dieter one shot by @nerdieforpedro

Dieter buys a house for you and the baby

mention of past drug use, fertility issues, mention of sperm donation and clinics, false pretenses, Dieter might be a bit obsessed or a lot

Stay sexy and don't get murdered

Dieter one shot by @chronically-ghosted

Trapped behind a secret wall to hide from a murderer, the close proximity forces you and Dieter to confront feelings you rather bury underneath your case to prove your favorite neighbor didn’t commit suicide.

brief moments of tv-appropiate terror, arguing, mentions of suicide, mentions of death/murder, but more importantly: smut (like half of this is smut), oral (f!receiving), dieter’s bare ass nearly catching on fire, too many feelings for something that started as a crack fic idea

Fare Well

Dieter one shot by @nerdieforpedro

Dieter has been working so hard. He still has an issue that might be because of his mind. What can he do about it? Do anything else.

unhealthy coping, sexual dysfunction, sex work, teasing, pet names, sexual activity (actual and implied I think? I should know. 🙃)

A poor plan to confess

Dieter one shot by @nerdieforpedro

Dieter is doing his best to stay sober. You have a large part in his plans. They aren’t well thought out.

Dieter being a bit rude, porn use, mention of masturbation, teasing, improper toy use?, very bad communication, some mentions of sexual activities and acts, Nerdie is unsure of what she wrote

Conversation Pit

Dieter one shot @thosewickedlovelies

You’re viewing a mansion with Dieter, and it has a conversation pit. Does he have the discipline to keep his hands to himself?

friends with benefits, SMUT: Dieter’s favorite dom appears 👀 could it be someone we know?; mmf threesome, piv sex, semipublic sex but don’t worry, edging (m receiving), references to sex work

Lush

Din one shot by @the-scandalorian

Mando makes regular visits to the healing baths.

touch-starved Din; reader is blindfolded; smut

Immortal By Design

Din one shot by @beskarandblasters

Din Djarin picks up a mysterious job at the Bounty Hunter’s Guild from a high paying client that specifically requested him. Once he tracks down the bounty, he discovers two things— you tracking the bounty for different reasons entirely and a lot more than he bargained for.

reader is able-bodied, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), no Grogu in this universe, possession, cursed object, dark!Din, monsterfucking (I think), Din has heightened capabilities, dub con/noncon, restraints, reader gets captured, oral sex (M and F receiving), rough oral sex, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, mir’sheb = smart ass, character death, no use of y/n

Enchanted to Meet You

Din one shot by @beskarandblasters

You’re a senator for the New Republic and tonight you’re forced to attend the New Republic Gala. Senator Xiono won’t leave you alone but that in turn leads you to meet Mando, a security guard at the event. And that leaves you wonderstruck.

Reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, reader has consumed alcohol, creepy guy at the gala, fingering, semi public sex, vaginal sex, pull out method, pet names (cyar’ika, mesh’la), no use of y/n

I don't mind bleeding

Din one shot by @quicksilvermad

You and the Mandalorian have a mutually beneficial relationship—he pays your rent and you feed him when he needs fresh blood.

vampire!Din, blood, PIV sex, biting, sex work, second person POV, AFAB Reader, one instance of "good girl", aftercare

Bound

Din one shot by @frannyzooey

It’s your thighs he’s bound this time — not your hands for a change.

smut, bondage, AU

Hello to the Green

Ezra one shot by @the-blind-assassin-12

Down a ship, a crew, and a working air filter, and suffering from a rapidly worsening infection, Ezra makes one last ditch effort to get home. And he hopes it’s enough.

language, angst, injury and illness, death

Paint With Me

Frankie one shot by @bitchesuntitled

You have a crush on the dad of your daughter’s best friend.

Sexual innuendos and cursing

Right on Cue

Frankie one shot by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

The quiet bartender lends you a hand after you've closed up for the night.

reader is able-bodied but otherwise undescribed. Oral sex f receiving, protected PIV, that's pretty much it. this is just PWP

Door Number Three

Javi G drabble by @morallyinept

Javi shows you what he keeps behind that mirrored door

Character talk alludes to sexy things.

Dámelo

Javi P one shot by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

You want more. Javi wants to give it to you. You just have to give him something first.

mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, aftercare. reader is able-bodied but otherwise undescribed.

Dress Up Joel

Joel series @covetyou

when a mysterious stranger breaks into your house, and keeps breaking into your house, he gives you the fright, and the ride, of your life. Welcome to your seasonal encounters with one Mr. Joel Miller.

sex toys, dress up, festive/seasonal shenanigans, no use of Y/N, see individual fics for additional warnings

He Knows

Joel/Tommy one shot by @psychedelic-ink

Joel knows you have a little thing for his younger brother so decides to indulge you for your birthday.

gonna state this very clearly: joel gets cucked by tommy and watches, everyone is consenting and it's discussed beforehand, piv, dirty talk, possessive!joel, daddy kink, size kink, established relationship between joel and reader, jealousy, some brotherly rivalry, facial, mild degradation kink, creampie

Does Your Mother Know

Joel one shot by @beskarandblasters

Joel finds a pretty young thing on the beach to spend some time with on his vacation.

reader is able-bodied, reader wears a bikini & a dress, no outbreak AU, ambiguous beach location, both reader and Joel consume alcohol, age gap (20 years), oral sex (F and M receiving), semi public sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is on birth control, pet names (sweetheart, baby), no use of y/n

Tear You Apart

Joel one shot by @mermaidgirl30

Joel comes for you late at night. He always does. Always stalks, chases, and prowls after you like a starving wolf. And when he catches you, he devours you, feeds on you like the animal he is. Will you run and hide or will you give into the temptation that calls you in the forest?

Dark themes, Little red riding hood references, dark! Joel, Joel is a menace, oral, fingering, choking, unprotected P in V, cream pie, filthy smut, degrading actions, not really violent but lots of dark themes, manipulation, rough sex, dirty talk, Joel calls reader little lamb, possessive Joel, feral! Joel, post outbreak! Joel, controlling Joel, dom! Joel, submissive reader, Joel x fem! reader, Joel is in his late 40’s and reader is in her late 20’s

inhale, exhale

Joel one shot by @sp00kymulderr

This world is not made for intimacy and both of you know it.

Fingering, mentions of sex, smoking (both reader and Joel), canon typical violence mentions, needy!Joel, fear of intimacy. Barely edited as usual.

One Day at a Time

Joel series by @sixhours

Joel becomes a dad. Again

soft!Joel, no really super soft!Joel, Joel is bad at feelings and relationships, Joel is a sap, mostly follows canon, SMUT, gratuitous smut, dubious consent (drunk sex), unplanned pregnancy, fluff, references to past miscarriages, angst, hurt/comfort, romance, age gap (~21 years), childbirth, fluffy baby stuff

mine

Joel one shot by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

You encounter a frightening beast in the forest after getting separated from your group. Instead of killing you, he spares your life - the first of many surprises from this mysterious creature.

it's Joel Miller as a humanoid monster beast creature with a massive cock idk what you want me to say, creative liberties with anatomy and bodily fluids, they're soulmates because I wrote this so of course they are, monster!Joel can talk a little but it wouldn't kill him to watch a few episodes of Reading Rainbow or do some alphabet flash cards tbh, one curious use of an aquifer as a metaphor

Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To

Joel one shot by @freelancearsonist

Joel finds a familiar face while out on a smuggling run.

Rated PG for pure angst, one single kiss, and references to Joel's self-inflicted gun wound/self harm

Ahórcame, Papí

Joel/Frankie/Ezra one shot by @marisferasiop

After he gives a recovering addict a job (and subsequently falls head over heels for him), Joel and Frankie have a sweet, fulfilling relationship as Daddy and little exploring their kinks. Then, they meet Ezra at a leather club, another damaged vet with his own issues and kinks. They take him home, and he never really leaves.

Daddy Kink, Daddy/littles, pup kink, Breathplay (hands on throats), Orgasm Denial, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Control "Training", Light BDSM, Aftercare, Soft Dom Joel, vers Ezra, Bottom Frankie Morales, Oral Sex, Cockwarming, AnalSex, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Breeding Kink, Heat/rut kink, PTSD mention (vets), gags, fingering, choking, cum eating, prostate milking, fucking machine mention, the elusive "sissygasm"

On the Verge of a Usual Mistake

Lucien/Dieter two shot by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

You've been avoiding your exes Dieter Bravo and Lucien Flores all night at this event, but you're forced to come to terms with how things ended in both relationships when they seek to right their wrongs.

this is truly just porn with minimal plot (I'm so proud of myself lol), Dieter and Lucien are messy exes, threesome activities, Twister but with genitalia, Daddy and Papi kinks

In shades of gray and candlelight

Marcus P one shot by @freelancearsonist

Nothing good starts in a getaway car, but you sure do have fun delaying the inevitable.

artist!reader my beloved (reader is able-bodied, basic female anatomy and feminine pronouns used, reader is described as having hair that is long enough to be put up but otherwise she’s a blank slate), unprotected p in v sex, cum swallowing, creampie, semi-public sex acts, oral (r + m receiving), handjobs, fingering, very light switchy dom/sub dynamics, a couple spanks, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, baby, honey), heavy praise kink, light size kink, consent king!marcus, just like the song it does not end happily

headshots

Marcus P series by @secretelephanttattoo

You're a photographer and you get a job working for the FBI, taking corporate headshots. On your first day, you run into a handsome Special Agent. The series follows their relationship.

Fluff. Smut. PIV. Romance. Flirting. So much kissing. Non-stop nuzzling. Tiny bit of angst. Marcus in his plaid shirts. Marcus on a motorbike. Skiing. A cameo. Sex talker Marcus.

The Infinity Cube

Marcus P/Various series by @littlemisspascal

When you play with a strange cube, you’re transported out of your current reality with your boyfriend Marcus into brand new ones starring alternate versions of your boyfriend who look and act entirely different every time. With each encounter, you start to wonder if you’ll ever make it back to your real universe?

language, fluff, angst

12:32 PM

Marcus M one shot by @dancingtotuyo

Marcus likes to think he's moved on with life.

Grief, loss of a spouse (Wife), fluff

Given a name

Oberyn/Ellaria one shot by @missredherring

"This would be your greatest indulgence?" He asks, the edges of his beautiful mouth curling into a pleased grin. / How like a man to inflate his importance. It’s a pity that he isn’t wrong. / This will be my greatest selfishness.

Angst. Mentions of canon character deaths. Allusions to Greek mythology cos I'm a nerd. Reader chooses a name for herself.

Innocence need not tremble

Pero one shot by @brandyllyn

"I told you I don’t know how to fuck a maiden."

smut. PiV. starts rough. but gets better.

Cherry Wine

Whiskey one shot by @julesonrecord

Your marriage to your high school sweetheart has been hell for a long time, but when Jack discovers your awful secret, it all comes pouring out like a wine stain on the carpet. What do you find in the dregs?

MDNI; DDDNE; hurt people hurting people, domestic violence (verbal, physical, off stage neglect), there's a mention of human urine omg I'm truly horrified that survived the editing process, off stage drug use as a coping mechanism, alcoholism, infidelity, grief due to miscarriage/child loss, oblique suicidal ideations ("you should have killed me"); explicit smut; dirty talk; piv; fingering; possessive!Jack; emotional resolution?

[creedslove]

HEARTLESS 💔 - FINAL CHAPTER

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader

Summary: A wedding, a new addition to the family and revisiting memories finally bring the Daniels family their well-deserved happy ending ❤️

(This is the last chapter of the HEARTLESS 💔 series)

• YOU CAN READ THE ENTIRE SERIES ON MY MASTERLIST

Warnings: a tad bit of angst (but not really, it's mostly just expressing emotions and revisiting sad memories), mentions of suicidal thoughts, fluff, brief smut (more like mentions of it), tension, talks of becoming a widow, Wyatt and his baby sister being the most adorable kids in the world, happy ending ❤️

A/N: it took me so long to get this done, I guess nearly six months, I don't know, I feel I sort of lost my way with this story, but I had to come back and finish our cowboy adventure, give them their happy ending. I love you all and I really hope you enjoy this chapter, I thank you everyone who has followed this story and showed me support through all these months of writing! It wouldn't have happened if it weren't for you ❤️🫶

12.6k words

Nothing could have prepared you for the reaction your cowboy had the moment you broke the news to him you were pregnant - or rather he found out about it by spotting the test boxes in the bathroom trash. You had been worried about everything, so many scenarios running through your head, always anticipating the worst and making you fear each single measure he could take. Just to have a grown ass cowboy on his knees before you, his face resting against your womb as he blinked away the tears that insisted on flooding those brown baby cow eyes of his. He just worshiped you, mumbling so many words you couldn't quite tell what they were, but the way he looked up at you, as if you were his whole world, made your heart skip a beat. It was a terrifying change, but you oddly didn't feel scared, not at that moment, not when you had Whiskey at your feet, showing he wasn't going anywhere, he was committed and devoted to you, to his family, a family that was growing, just like that tiny little seed in your womb, that was going to grow into a full baby, a blessing to that undeserving man, something he prayed for every single night, there was nothing Jack Daniels wanted more than to be a good man to his family, to be the husband and the father you and the kids deserved. 

The kids. 

He chuckled to himself at the thought of it, something that seemed just like a distant dream short days ago, was now a reality, the fact Wyatt was about to become a big brother, and the overwhelming love he felt for his son, also multiplying towards his second child. It was also terrifying to him, to love someone he hadn't even met yet, and how that could be taken away from in the blink of an eye like it happened to him before. He shook his head, squinting his eyes unaware of the tears that rolled down his cheeks, chasing those thoughts away. Nothing would happen to his family, you, Wyatt and the little angel inside of you would be just fine, because that was his responsibility and he would fight for it until his last breath. You felt his tears against your bare skin and a gut feeling told you exactly what he was thinking about, you didn't want him suffering for that, things wouldn't be as tragic as they were, Jack Daniels was a heavily traumatized man, who lived in fear of losing his family by not being good enough to protect them. You couldn't let your cowboy suffer in anticipation like that, so you pushed him gently, sitting on the floor to face him in the same eye level and stroked his cheek, the way his eyes were red with tears and he sniffed even if he tried his best to control his emotional reaction, reminded you so much of Wyatt, your son being the tiny little version of him. You placed your lips on Jack's forehead, then you went to his cheek kissing his tears away and finally to his lips, never breaking eye contact, at the same time he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible, needing the reassurance only your touch could provide. You kept your cowboy so close to your heart, taking deep breaths and letting his presence sink in, finally realizing how much you'd missed your cowboy, spending days apart from him. You had been so deep into your own thoughts after finding out about the pregnancy you completely neglected the side that craved your cowboy with you. You wanted to hold him, kiss and make love to him, but at that moment, you could see the vulnerability in his eyes.

It broke your heart; Jack was a strong, fearless man towards anything that did not involve his family. He was able to take down dozens of enemies in a fight, he could face the most furious bull in a ring, he didn't fear death or pain when he was out in the world protecting a nation that didn't even know they were in danger to begin with, but he was not that brave when it came to his sugar and his son, and especially not once they added a baby into the mix. One could call him paranoid, but he was just not willing to take the slightest risk, it had happened once, it wasn't going to happen twice. 

"Sugar, I-” 

His voice cracked, he had tears in his eyes, threatening to spill at any given second, he wanted to promise you, word it out loud how hard he would fight for you, for your relationship as a couple, your upcoming wedding, he wanted to assure you you could splurge as much as you wanted, choose whatever made you happy, he wanted to throw himself at your feet like the dog he was, he wanted to cry and beg your forgiveness even if he had already done that before, more than once, and even if you, out of your superior state of grace, had forgiven him. He wanted to tell you he knew he wasn't worthy of you, but he wasn't strong enough to keep away, he wanted to swear you and the kids would be forever safe, he would do anything you wanted him to: quit Statesman, throw away all his lassos and whips, he would become a goddamn farmer if it were up to you. He wanted to thank you for bringing sense into his life again, for robbing him from those depreciating, suicidal thoughts. He wanted to thank, and beg and promise you, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything at all, all he did was blinking his tears, letting them run down his cheeks. You knew it, you knew it all, he didn't have to say it, you could feel it from his heart to yours. Caressing his cheek gently, you nodded, leaned towards him and kissed his lips once more. 

"I know cowboy, I know it” 

                               •••

The slight noise of crayons sliding through a sheet of paper filled your ears and brought your attention back to reality. You focused your eyes on the bright colorful shades that added a meaning to a confusing drawing Wyatt was finishing. A pillow under his bum so he could be tall enough to use the coffee table as his personal art table, while he glanced at his baby sister, Rosie, who rested in her baby seat and watched attentively her big brother's every move. The eight-month-old cooed and kicked her little legs, wanting Wyatt's attention back at her, their bond being as strong as it was the day she was born, he giggled at her. 

"Calm down, Rosie… I will continue the story in a minute” he said in his smart pants way and turned his head at you, knowing something was up. Wyatt was only six - proudly going 7 in a few months, but he was able to tell whenever you were lying to him. He'd asked if you were alright a couple of times in the last hour, and you'd said yes. But you clearly weren't fine. 

Dropping his crayons, he got up and walked towards you, bright brown eyes staring into yours and a comforting smile. 

“What happened, mommy?” 

“N-nothing happened, honey… why don't you go and keep telling Rosie the story… What story was it?” 

"The story of us before she was born…” he said proudly and you let out a chuckle, of course he would want his little sister to know her origins and tell her everything that happened in the months that followed your wedding proposal up to her birth. You allowed yourself to stop the mental torture and point at Rosie who kept cooing in order to have Wyatt talking to her as she loved. As much as the sight melted your heart, a heavy weight in your chest stopped you from taking another breath without feeling pain. Jack should have been there with you. He should be sitting right next to you, playing with his kids and giving you all sorts of dirty smirks hinting at what would go on in your shared bedroom once the kids were off to dreamland. But he wasn't, and you swallowed hard every time you thought about it. You hadn't lied to Wyatt at all, when you said nothing happened; because nothing indeed had happened, the real problem was that something should have happened. He should have declined Champ’s request for a last mission, and being the stubborn cowboy he was, when he got there, he should've killed his enemies straight away, he should have answered Statesman's official communication channels, and above all, he should have arrived home two days ago. 

You didn't get contact from him and neither did the agency, even if they actually sent Ginger to your ranch so she would keep you company and make sure you weren't lost in bad thoughts, even if she stood in your kitchen making you a cup of tea, always offering you dozens of stories in which Whiskey managed to save the day and showed up at the last minute, it still didn't work, quite the opposite, it made it everything worse. But you had to remain strong for the kids, there was no reason to spread panic, even if you were feeling panic yourself, you couldn't do that to them. 

You hugged your little boy tight, burying your face into his soft curls, and smiled, looking at your precious Rosie, picking her up from her seat and holding her gently. 

"Go ahead, love” you told your son and Wyatt smiled, giggling and tickling her tiny little feet. 

"So… after daddy found out you were a little seed in mommy's tummy…”

And at your son's sweet words towards your daughter, your mind drifted off to the memories he was taking so much pride in telling her. 

                             •••

“Honey, it's okay, I'm fine, our baby is fine” You'd told your cowboy for the third time but he wasn't convinced just yet, it had been a silly little accident and nothing more: you’d been playing tag with Wyatt and Jack outside when a chicken running lose crossed your path and your tripped over it. Thinking in retrospect, it wasn't silly, it was plain stupid actually, but the moment Jack saw you tumbling, he ran towards you as fast as possible, immediately lifting you up and placing his hand on your belly. The pregnancy was now two months along, and your soon-to-be husband was always in a state of alert, just like a guard dog, he wouldn't leave your side unless it was strictly necessary to, and at any slight glimpse of danger - well, his exaggerated conception of danger -, he would be ready to act. 

"Sugar please, you fell down, that's something pregnant women aren't supposed to do, let's just go to town, get you to the clinic, have one of those fancy ultrasounds exams and make sure everything’s fine. Afterwards, Wyatt can have one of those happy meals he loves and you can check up any remaining wedding details you'd like to” 

You both knew there was no detail you hadn't double checked in the month and a half you'd found out about the pregnancy. Your wedding was all set and ready to take place - a week from then, at the Daniels’ ranch. Everything was thoughtfully chosen, organized and done despite how fast things were going. However, the fear in that man's eyes made you nod and agree to his request. You knew you were okay, just as your baby was okay, but he didn't, not when his worst nightmare haunted him every single day, giving him no breaks or concessions; the horror of losing yet another child taking away his logical rational side more often than he'd liked. So you did it for him, for your worried cowboy. For the cowboy who wouldn't keep his hand away from your small baby bump and would pray silently for things to be okay. 

“Alright Jack, let's go” 

You gave in to his request and allowed him to help you climb up the Bronco, along with Wyatt safely tucked in the backseat just a few moments after he ran inside to grab you and himself a jacket. Your heart clenched with an overwhelming wave of love, your family was so perfect it didn't even seem to be real. As you watched the ranch become smaller and smaller in the rear mirror, Wyatt played with some dinosaur toys in the backseat, you noticed the cemetery entrance Whiskey drove by; the same cemetery Gabriella was buried with her unborn baby and that brought another pang towards your chest. You thought of her and her baby, and the joy and expectations she must've had, you thought of your own cowboy, and how hard it must've been for him to receive the news that destroyed his life. Placing your hand on your womb, you stroked it gently. You weren't worried until then, but the cold realization of what happened to your fiance, was enough to spike the doubt. Life was going so well for you, perhaps too well, and you worried at some point the good wave of luck would die out. Thoughts wandered, but a heavy hand rested on your thigh, snapping you out of your thoughts. Jack glanced at you, still keeping his attention on the road, but making sure to look into your eyes. 

"It's going to be fine sugar, our sweet little bean is here, safe and sound” 

You nodded thankfully for his words and tried calming down, knowing you'd be in town soon.

You could list the most emotional moments of your life: your first kiss, your first love, the first time you ever saw that pathetic handsome cowboy, the instant you fell in love with him, your first time with your cowboy, the first time you exchanged love words, finding out you were pregnant with Wyatt, listening to his first heartbeats and you could spend a lifetime listing all of those moments. So you figured the moment you heard your newest baby's heartbeat for the first time, you wouldn't become too emotional, but you were definitely wrong. The moment the loud heartbeat filled the room, your heart raced like crazy, looking around you saw your cowboy's eyes filled with tears, a sweet smile as he leaned in and pecked your lips gently, at the same time Wyatt's happy grin also caught your attention. The way he clapped his small hands so excitedly and giggled. 

“See mommy? Baby sissy is alright!” 

He said happily, as he was sure he would get a sister, and turns out, he was right all along. 

That night, after Wyatt was safely tucked into bed, Jack came over to you, a basket and blankets in hand, a shit eating grin as he cornered you and kissed your cheeks, before going south and getting to your neck. Goosebumps spread all over your skin, you knew exactly what he was thinking of and you couldn't help but chuckle. He was still your handsome, charming silly cowboy and you loved him with every fiber of your being. He didn't even need to say anything, just offering you his hand, knowing you'd take it without questioning and without further ado, you two were quickly running through the green grass of the ranch, escaping to your old getaway spot, the one you'd spend uncountable hours with your cowboy, just enjoying the sunlight or the moonlight, relaxing and hiding away from everything and everyone. The early stages of your relationship, where you didn't know if you and the cowboy would actually become something more than a steamy affair, before even dreaming of getting pregnant with his child and going through everything you did. You would both get into your favorite date place: the barn. 

Just a blanket to make things comfortable, some treats to nibble on and all the love flowing through your veins. 

"It's been so long since we came here” you told Whiskey, as he opened the door and welcomed you after him. He didn't say anything, not before pressing you against the wall and stealing a kiss. And that cowboy was hungry for you. The way his hands gripped your waist before roaming over you, his heavy breathing and a whole new discharge of hormones thanks to your pregnancy, got you so worked up, your hands sinking into the softness of his hair, his stetson lying on the floor at how fast your make out session started. 

"Missed you, sugar.. it was about time we came up to our good ol' barn, ain't it right? Just us… ‘cause mommy and daddy gotta have their fun” Jack's heavy breathing was so enticing to you, the way he hungrily went over to your neck and without you even noticing him, he had set the blanket on the floor, making it a cozy place for the two of you to lie down among stacks hay. Smooth dirty cowboy, must've done that a thousand times. If those barn walls could talk, they'd certainly tell the most explicit erotic tales, ones out of many that were actually starred by you. However, there was no place for jealousy of the past, instead you focused on the bright future you got ahead of you and the known fact you were now the only one going to the barn with your cowboy. No other woman would touch him but you, and that was priceless. 

By the time you were both finished with your round, all that was left was resting against each other's body. His arms firmly wrapped around you, short nails scratching up and down your naked back, at the same time you nuzzled his chest. His warm skin and his heartbeat, those small details reminding you it was real. Your happiness was real. Love overflowing you at all times and nothing could be better at that moment. As you shifted and lay on your back, Jack's hand immediately rested on your baby bump. It was still quite small, but you could both see it taking its shape, it was your child growing healthy and strongly inside of you. The mixture of you and the cowboy, the final proof your love was so abundant it flooded into something more. Whiskey's hand stroked your skin, a distant smile on his face, as so much went through his mind. He couldn't help but experience so many feelings at once: love, fear, excitement, regret, grief. All of that mixed up in the handsome mess he was. He couldn't wait to meet his sweet daughter, because just like Wyatt, he was also certain it was time for a baby girl Daniels to make her debut in the family, yet, he couldn't help feeling the bitter taste of regret, thinking of all the wasted time and opportunity he could've spent around you and baby Wyatt. Thinking of how he could've and should've been there for you and him. Your first pregnancy, how everything was so new and scary, how hard and stressful things were, how much you and your son needed him. He closed his eyes and silently prayed for forgiveness, trying to convince himself better late than never, which was true, but he could've been a better man. His mind also drifted to very old times, when he wasn't much more than a boy recently graduated from high school, a wedding ring shining and a beautiful, young and bright Gabriella expecting their baby boy. She was supposed to have gone to college that year, if she hadn't gotten pregnant, Jack knew she would've made a great lawyer, exactly like she dreamed of; he often blamed himself for robbing her of her bright future, even if he knew he would've managed to work and given her and their son the best life possible. It was a topic he discussed several times in therapy and grief counseling. At first, he was adamant about not wanting to do it, but Champ only gave him two options: either treat his old deep wounds, or leave Statesman behind and start over with no job, no money, no support. And he was being kind, because more than once Jack heard people telling straight up to his face he should be rotting in jail. The truth was that Champ was right, he needed to, he should've treated himself years ago, it made him understand and finally accept that no one was to blame, but the killers who ended Gabriella's and the baby's lives. It made him see, he had loved them with all his heart, but he was still alive and he was entitled to be happy, he shouldn't feel guilty about loving someone else, about wanting to build a life with someone other than Gabriella, and above all, he understood that his sweet Gabriella would want the same for him, because he was sure if he was the one who died that night at a convenience store, he would never wish her a lifetime of sorrow and grief like he led. 

"I think you're miles away from here, Jack…” your voice had snapped him out of his thoughts and brought him back to reality, just as your touch, fingers running through his hair as he chuckled and nodded. 

"Just thinking about life, that's all” 

"You know I love you, right, cowboy?” 

“I do, just as I love you sugar. With my whole heart” 

He pecked your lips and then got to your belly, his mustache tickling your skin as he left a trail of little butterfly kisses on your bump. 

“And I love you too, baby, with all my soft old heart, a broken heart fixed with so much love and patience by your beautiful mama, your handsome big brother and by you, because I'm sure you're daddy's little sheep” 

                      •••

"... So when you still lived in mommy's tummy, daddy called you little sheep, because you were too tiny to be a cowboy and also a girl” Wyatt giggled at his own joke and cooed as Rosie clapped her chubby hands. Your kids’ genuine happiness and innocence filled your heart with love and pride, and the fact your cowboy wasn't anywhere Statesman looked for him, only fueled the worst fears and thoughts you had going on. Raising your two kids on our own wouldn't be impossible, you'd done it before with Wyatt, you'd been strong enough to do it, but that was not the occasion any longer. You wanted your cowboy by your side, Jack and you were meant to be, you were married now and you wanted nothing more than to stay with him for the rest of your life, to watch your kids grow and grow old with him. You loved him with all your heart and that lack of news was driving you insane. Turning to Ginger, she simply shook her head, still no sign of him, and it pierced your heart. You wanted your sweet handsome Jack next to you, so you could both enjoy your family. 

"... And then Rosie, mommy married daddy and it was under the willow tree! Remember we played snowman last Christmas there?! Mommy looked like a princess! Mommy, tell Rosie you looked like a princess!” 

Wyatt tugged at you and caught your attention again, you kissed your daughter's head gently and then stroked your son's beautiful face. He was the sweetest child you'd ever met, he'd been your best friend for so long, you just nodded at his words. 

"And you tell Rosie you looked like a tiny little prince and walked mommy down the aisle!” 

“So Rosie…, Mommy and daddy's wedding was so fun! Let me tell you…”  

                            •••

The arrangements for the wedding weren't as complicated as you thought they'd be, not when you had Whiskey by your side, always willing to make your dream - and his, come true. No matter the decoration, the dress, the flower arrangement or the buffet. Anything was perfect for him, because at the end of the day, you'd be his forever, his wife, the mother of his beautiful children. You'd sign your name as Mrs.Daniels, just like Wyatt and your baby would. And he couldn't wait for that to become true. 

Taking advantage of the fact it was awfully warm for December, you both decided to hold the wedding at the ranch, where you could fit all the guests - nothing too much, just friends, some relatives, fellow agents on Whiskey's part, anyway - and all the other things implied by a wedding: a beautiful altar, a nice dance floor and all the great amount of flowers your cowboy insisted on you gifting you with, roses of course, he loved those as a little boy because his grandma and mama loved them, and it's a commonly well-known fact that above being a Mama's boy, Jack Daniels had been a grandma's boy, which only made you love him even more. He was a roses man, and you knew with all your heart that a little Rosie was growing up in your belly, the perfect mixture of your love and the cowboy's, just like your handsome, precious son Wyatt, was. 

The location chosen at the ranch could only be by the willow trees, such a special place for you and your family, it was bound to become even more special. It would be the place where you and Jack would exchange your vows of always loving each other and your family; it was beautiful. The directions were also perfect, the exact balance between simple and elegant. Nothing to be too much, just some fairy lights carefully placed on the trees, white chairs on the green field and several roses of all colors scattered all over the place. You'd always heard men didn't usually take part in those details, but your Whiskey couldn't be further from that; he loved spending every moment helping you decide what you wanted and giving some of his thoughts too. The cake tasting was also another happy occasion: Jack made sure to take you to the best bakery in town, you, him and Wyatt had the hard task of trying a little bit of every cake available in order to pick the right one for the party. You, trusting your boys’ fine taste, you let them pick the cake: strawberry and cream. Everything seemed ready for the two of you to tie the knot. The dress was also easy to find, you weren't picky, you wanted something pretty and comfortable, that would make your baby bump discreet and allow you to enjoy your special day. Taking Wyatt with you so he would help you choose the best outfit, you simply loved how attentive and sweet he was, all the time he clapped his little hands and giggles 

"You look pretty mommy!” 

That's what you'd heard the most those days. 

Your handsome cowboy on the other hand, had his suit completely figured out: after inviting some of the Kingsman agents, Eggsy sent your fiance a special fine tailored suit, the kind that fit your cowboy so perfectly and it hung tight to all the right places. He looked so good, too good it was almost impossible to be able to hold yourself back and honor the agreement you'd both made to wait until the wedding  to sleep together again. It was quite silly to do that, but you remembered being younger and reading somewhere about how having a dry spell a few days before the wedding could fuel the honeymoon even more. You and Jack decided not to travel for your special getaway, he was still very worried about your health, no matter how many times your doctor assured both you and him things were alright with mama and the baby. There was also the fact you didn't have anyone to leave Wyatt with as well, he was a kind and sweet child to be around, but he wasn't used to being away from you for more than just a couple of days. Your mom was completely out of the picture and you and Jack didn't really feel comfortable in hiring someone to watch your boy on such short notice. A couple of weeks at your ranch, enjoying the upcoming end of the year festivities, your family and taking care of your pregnancy didn't sound that bad at all, you were looking forward to it and each time you saw Whiskey, your heart fluttered, thinking of all the happiness ahead of you. 

Two days before your wedding, Wyatt woke up sneezing and sniffling, you had warned him not to spend too long around the river with his dad, you weren't certain what kind of vegetation was that, but it was enough to strike an allergic reaction in your little boy; and since Jack had been out to go fishing and Wyatt wouldn't leave his side for two seconds, it was understandable he didn't wake up feeling great, which made you give him some antiallergics in order for him to feel better. It'd worked to an extent, if it weren't for the fact the antiallergic your son got was the drowsy kind and it put him down to sleep through the whole afternoon, so without Wyatt's usual presence around you, always playing or asking millions of those thoughtful and creative questions, you took some time for yourself, relaxing and lying on the couch, waiting for Whiskey to be home. Your future husband was as excited for the wedding as you were, he couldn't wait to say ‘I do’ and finally be able to be your husband, and yet, you could still see there were some days in which Jack's mind wandered and he seemed so lost in thought. Or late at night, it wouldn't be rare to get up to grab a glass of water and find him looking out the window, silently and reflexively, just staring into the darkness outside the window. You hadn't asked what was going on, suspecting it had to do with something extremely intimate, and that didn't worry you one bit, your love was strong and your cowboy was devoted to you, perhaps it was something to do with those ugly thoughts he dealt with a while back; although he'd assured you he still went to the his therapist appointments regularly and things were much better in that sense then. Eventually, you felt your eyes getting heavier and heavier, and you ended up dozing off, your body fully relaxed against the comfortable couch and the warmth of the sunshine coming through the big window. 

The distant sound of the Bronco's engine wasn't enough to wake you up by itself, you were so tired, a combination of your pregnancy and all the rush you had been settling things, all you needed was just a couple of hours of extra sleep and you'd be all set. Your sweet cowboy knew that more than you did, so he just tiptoed his way into the kitchen in order not to disturb you. The cowboys sweet tooth was really making him lose focus, so he had to grab a slice of that delicious cake you'd made him; no matter how many times you'd told Jack he looked the same sexy cowboy as always, he was sure he was growing a soft belly, and that was certainly due to your great cooking and mostly baking skills. And yet, he couldn't care less about it. He would trade any abs and fit body in the world for the happiness of your shared domestic bliss. He was so absentmindedly eating his second slice of cake - it was just too good to stop in the first one, he didn't even notice you approaching him, only when you placed your delicate hand on his back he managed to turn around and give you a smile as best as possible, due to the amount of cake he was eating, so you just chuckled and shook your head

“Chew it slowly cowboy” you said sweetly and wiped some crumbles off his cheek and then went to his chest, doing the same with his shirt. His free immediately rested on your belly as he grinned. 

"How's the little cowboy?” 

"He's alright… I'd like to talk about the big cowboy, though” you told him and saw his puzzled face as you chuckled and wrapped your arms around his neck. Jack's body was so broad and strong, it simply made you always feel safe and quite turned on, although you couldn't get distracted by him. His arms wrapped around your body, heavy hands resting on the small of your back as he sighed, he hoped he wasn't in trouble, although he had quite a good guess what you wanted to talk about. He placed a peck on top of your head and looked into your eyes. 

“What is it, sugar?” 

"I want to know what's going on, cowboy… I know you're excited about our wedding, just as I am, but sometimes you just get so lost in thought, you wake up in the middle of night and underneath all that spark of happiness, I still see some melancholy underneath… I don't want to see you sad, Jack” 

He closed his eyes when he felt your hand on his cheek, the slightest caress was already so comforting for that broken cowboy; he was a screw up but he had the best intentions, all he wanted was to make you happy without having to worry about losing the three of you. You, Wyatt and the baby being much more than he ever deserved, he just wished he didn't worry so much about everything all the time. Taking a seat on the chair and pulling you to his lap, he rested his face on your cleavage, sighing as he wondered if he should actually open up and tell you what was constantly on his mind. What if you somehow misinterpreted what he meant?! What if you got angry with him and his over protection? So many things ran through his mind as he remained in silence for a few seconds, until once more that healing caress of yours snapped him out of his newest wave of melancholy, this time tangled into his messy hair, you could see the tension dissolving from his shoulders and how he was ready to talk. 

"I'm so happy with everything that's going on… our wedding, our baby, our cowboy Wyatt growing up stronger than a horse, I spent so long thinking I could never be happy in my life only to be the happiest man in the world. I'm so thankful to you for all of that, sugar. You made me a better man, you made me want to be better for you and our family and now we're welcoming a new baby into our lives, I can't help my excitement to do this with you, sugar, it's my dream coming true” 

The cowboy said honestly, this time he was the one who held your face between his hands, caressing it gently and being so delicate towards you like he'd always been. Still, you knew him, being sure there was a little bit more to it than just the pure excitement. 

"And…?” 

Whiskey licked his lips and gave you a sad smile, seeing nothing would go past you unnoticed, not when it came to him at least. He felt pretty happy and safe because of that, his heart warm at how sweet you were. 

“And my mind keeps taking me back to when I was young… All this wedding preparation going on reminds me of the first time I got married… how young and naive I was, how happy Gabriella got, and how hopeful we were when lil Jack was growing in her belly” he swallowed hard and lowered his eyes “please sugar, don't think I'm comparing you two or that I still love Gabriella in that way, but it makes me sad to think my boy could've become a man, a big strong cowboy, and his mama should be a hell of a successful woman by now. I know I discussed this hundreds if not thousands of times over the years, but their fate was just so unfair, and along with that, the fear of losing you and our beautiful little family the way I lost them starts creeping up in my chest and I just get so paranoid over everything an-”

You interrupted your cowboy with a kiss; touching his lips with yours, feeling the warmth of him irradiating onto you, the way his arms wrapped around you and he deepened the kiss, loving to have a taste of you, especially when his mouth couldn't make the right words, he knew his heart could, and above all, your heart could listen to it. And you understood it, you really did, it wasn't because Jack still thought of his late wife, not in that way, but he just couldn't help wondering what would've happened if things didn't go the tragic way they did. Your cowboy was a romantic and sensitive man, no matter what he tried saying or doing. You broke the kiss with a gentle smile and took his hand “come on, cowboy, let's go for a ride” you told him as you dragged him out of the kitchen, stopping midway just to let Helen know you and Jack would be gone for a while and she should keep an eye on Wyatt just in case. 

The walk to the stables was quick, as your cowboy didn't hesitate in going after you, still slightly puzzled as to why you decided to go out like that, but the moment he saw your smile, he went soft: he would do anything for you. You finally let go of his hand and went to Silver Pony, greeting her and petting her head, warming up his heart. Jack loved how sweet and kind to the animals he kept at the ranch you were, knowing you loved that beautiful horse, just as much as Wyatt loved his beautiful little pony, he frowned softly as he saw you getting the saddle and putting it on your horse. 

"I thought we'd agree you wouldn't ride horses for now, you know, to prevent stuff in case you fall or-” you interrupted your cowboy with another peck on the lips, knowing he wouldn't resist further than that. Smiling you shook your head slightly 

"You know, it's funny you don't want me to ride a horse but you do want me to ride a cowboy every single night” you winked as you saw a slight red shade crossing his cheeks before he cleared his throat “come on, Jack, I'll be safe, I'll be with you, you're the best cowboy in the world, the best I've ever seen, we'll just take a short ride and that's it…” 

And with your puppy eyes, you managed to convince him. Like you always did. 

And you were right after all, the ride was short and calm, nothing different went on, as you two exited the ranch entrance and took the small side road towards the fruit trees, the cowboy just assumed you were going to pick up some to make a dessert or something similar, but the moment you crossed the fruit path and walked a bit further, stopping by the cemetery, was when he finally realized what you'd had in mind. He did not see that coming, a part of him still tried to deflect him from considering that, but when he saw you getting off Silver Pony and picking up some flowers, it was the confirmation he needed. 

“S-sugar, why? Why are we here?” 

He asked as you took his arm and made your way inside of that holy place. 

"I think it's important, maybe this will ease your mind, Jack… I know how hard this subject still is for you, and I also know you haven't visited her in a while. I think it's important for you, and well, for me too, that way we can soothe these feelings that still haunt you, cowboy. Let's go, I do it with my heart open” 

And with your encouraging words, your cowboy Jack Daniels took your hand and walked towards his late wife's grave, knowing it was always a bittersweet feeling, but above all, necessary. He hadn't been there in a while, it was almost as if he'd lost the habit of doing so, not feeling that need of visiting them, not after he started attending therapy and realized he had to let his first family go, not after he realized he needed to fight for the family he had with you and that was the most important thing. Still, around special dates such as their anniversary or worse, the anniversary of their passing, he felt he had to honor them by showing up and leaving a couple of flowers. Jack was also aware that you visited their grave once and it warmed his heart. You took some of your time to acknowledge their existence in a substantial way and not treat them as if they were just his weird obsession. Once he realized you both stood in front of the tombstone, he took a deep breath. No matter if years and decades went by, the sight of their names written there always pierced his heart. He knew his relationship with Gabriella could've taken so many turns if she hadn't died: they could've been together until this day or they could've split up, they could still have feelings for each other or hate each other's guts, so many possibilities, none of them would ever come true, but what shattered his heart for real, was to think of his little boy, think of his little Jack, still so small and fragile inside his mommy's tummy, unlike Gabriella, Jack never got to hold him, never got to look into his eyes or caress his hair. Technically, it should've been easier for him to get over the loss of someone he had never met, but it wasn't, if anything, it was even worse, because he could never stop himself from wondering what would've happened. Would his son be good at school or get bad grades? Would be a mama's boy like Whiskey himself was as a kid or would he be rebellious? If he'd followed his dad's step and found his sweetheart earlier in life, there was a fat chance Whiskey would be a grandpa by then. 

But those ifs and might-have-beens were just spiculation. There was no way to know it, and not to descend into madness once more living off daydreams and made up scenarios, was that he seeked help. He was better now, better than he'd ever been, but at emotional times like those, it was quite difficult not to be caught in the moment, so he felt startled when you placed your hand on his shoulder. 

"Do you want me to go and give you some time?” You suggested as you placed the flowers on Gabriella's and the baby's graves, you had a gut feeling that moment was important for your cowboy, but now that you were actually there, you felt slightly dislocated, not knowing exactly what to do or what to say, it felt so intimate to be there, to see Jack's eyes fill up with tears, but instead of asking you for a moment, he tightened his grip around your hand and kept you in place. The two of you closed your eyes and said a silent prayer to his first family. You thanked Gabriella for taking care of your Jack and promised her you would make him happy, not letting him fall into his old depressive habits again; you also wished her and her baby's soul peace and happiness in heaven. Jack, on the other hand, prayed for them and for his new family, he told them he would always keep them both in his heart but it was time to let them rest, they'd never be forgotten or unloved, but the cowboy had another family to love and protect, he asked them for their blessing and he burst out crying when he spotted a blue butterfly on Gabriella's grave. She used to love butterflies and blue was her favorite color. It could've been a sign or not, he wasn't really sure, but the fact was that a weight seemed to be lifted off his chest at the same time he pulled you for a hug and thanked you for going there with him. 

Truth was: if roles were reversed and Jack had died that night instead of Gabriella, he would've wanted her to move on and find peace and love with someone who could truly make her happy, so he finally realized and convinced himself there was no reason for him to do that, his late wife would've wanted the same. 

                             •••

As Ginger got off the phone and paced the room, you felt your throat tightening with anxiety and worry; your chest was so heavy and the tears threatened to splurge from your eyes at any moment, there was still no sign of your cowboy and the way Ginger seemed tense as she whispered information with whoever was at the agency, only brought you even more fear of having lost your husband. You eyed the kids, who behaved perfectly and it pained you not being able to appreciate that, you wish you could sit down with them, talk and play, smile and hold them, but at that moment you were so unavailable, all you needed was to have some news from your cowboy, that was all you wished for; you wish you could hold him tight, you wish you could feel his presence, his warm, his scent all over you again. You craved your cowboy, your husband, and you couldn't even begin to consider the possibility of not having him anymore, at the same time those depressive thoughts were the only ones that crossed your mind. Wyatt complained about being hungry and as much as you should have gotten up and started making him dinner, you simply couldn't move yourself from your seat. Everything hurt and the way Ginger hung up and simply shook her head, signaling there were still no words about your cowboy, just shattered your heart. You discreetly dried a single tear and nodded at her, as you buried your hand into your son's curly hair - exactly like his dad's when he went a few extra weeks without a pretty decent trim. Even at your gentle caress, Wyatt still whined about being hungry, but seeing you were under no conditions of making them dinner, Ginger offered herself to make him some mac&cheese while Helen immediately stepped up to prepare Rosie's bottle. You thanked them and enjoyed a moment of silence as you were left in the living room by yourself. You shook your head thinking of things you couldn't actually change, but if you had that power you would've insisted him to stay, not to take that last mission, the future for the two of you along with the kids was just so bright, you had so many possibilities, he didn't need the money, he should've just stayed home with you. It should be a quiet evening, having a family dinner together, feeding and bathing the kids and then snuggling in bed, feeling those quick strong hands of his, roaming all over your body while those devilish lips whispered the most sinful things in your ear. 

If only. 

You sighed and got up, walking around the living room, stretching your legs and trying to control that huge sadness that seemed to have taken over you like a dark thick shadow that wouldn't go away. As you went to the window and watched it how the overcast sky had turned into a dark night, cold night, you saw the trees moving softly with the wind, which blew coldly through the leaves, you thought of how thoughtful Jack had become those early days before the wedding, how he would just stare outside and allow his mind to drift away, you knew now he had thought of his late wife and how things could've been different for her, you didn't want to think of that, because your troubled mind would wonder if you had really lost your husband already, if your worst nightmare had become true, if he would be reunited with Gabriella at that moment. So many ifs, as much as you fought that thought it didn't seem so distant which made you gasp and finally broke into tears. It was torture. Your heart was broken. 

When you looked out the window once more, your eyes were still blurred with tears, as you tried controlling yourself, knowing it wasn't the time for your kids to see your outburst, so at first, you didn't actually see that curious figure moving in the darkness, it wouldn't even make sense to you, no one could be possibly wandering around, the glimpse of a mysterious figured might've been confused with a hallucination, but not the sound of a horse's hooves approaching the house. That was very real, you realized, the moment you raised your head and frowned trying to see exactly who it was. It wasn't possible, was it? The thing you'd been praying for the most for the past couple of days, had you fallen asleep? Were you dreaming? You wouldn't be able to tell, not with that anxiety bombing you completely making you feel as if your heart was about to beat right out of your chest. Not holding back anymore, you simply ran to the front door, opening it and rushing towards the knight in shining armor coming back home to you. 

"Jack!!!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, your face filled with pure emotion as your depressing, pained tears were quickly replaced by happy ones, the relief you felt was enough to spread through your body and make it weak, having the sensation you could reach the ground at any moment, but there was no problem, your cowboy was finally back home.

Noticing you, your despair and your eagerness to see him, Jack immediately got off the couch and finished the path towards you by running. Welcoming you into his eyes, you jumped on him, crying and gripping his body against yours as if your life depended on it. You cried as you felt his hands running up and down your back, the way he whispered sweet little soothing words, reminding you he was finally safely home. You couldn't believe it, one moment you felt terrified you'd have to move onto a sad, depressing life without your cowboy, and then next, he was right there, for you. You also knew he was tired, hungrily, bruised and in need of a shower and certainly a lot of Ginger’s painkillers, but you allowed yourself to be a little bit more selfish and keep him to yourself, holding your husband and taking every bit of him.

"It's okay sugar, I'm home… it was the last one, I promise you, from now on, I'm retired Agents Whiskey, no more leaving my family behind to risk my life for others” he promised you with his whole heart, not being able to take your sadness at the realization of how much you'd suffered with him gone. He couldn't do that to you nor your family, he had priorities in life, and they would always be you, Wyatt and Rosie. 

The way Jack kept you in his embrace, face buried into your neck, your sweet scent reminding him of home and showing him that just like you, he wasn't dreaming, he was indeed back home from a mission he didn't die for a true miracle, his heart calmed down. You could've stayed in that embrace forever, it was all your heart begged and ached for, nothing more or nothing less, and the only thing that was able to break that hug was when Wyatt's voice shouted a happy “daddy!!!” at the top of his little lungs, followed by Rosie's cooes and loud baby noises, the cowboy's eyes filled with tears at that scene. It wasn't just his sugar, it was also his kids claiming for him, his family who waited hopefully and patiently for him to come home to. He opened his arms to them, Wyatt running as fast as his favorite horse and Rosie being brought in by Helen, but it didn't take very long until she was in her daddy's arms, cooing and gripping his cheeks like she always did while he kissed her sweet face. There was no reason to cry or be sad about stuff, the Daniels were reunited again. 

                            •••

The next couple of hours went by in a blur, you felt anesthetized at everything that went on, and while Jack had to sit down with Ginger - and Champ who arrived about an hour later and got them all locked into your cowboy's office, Helen insisted you to take a bath, followed by a calming herb tea, while she kept an eye on the kids for you. 

You never really knew what went on during the mission, it was top secret after all, the only thing you were informed about was that the mission was dangerous, but a success, and Jack Daniels, now retired and former Agent Whiskey had been a hero. As a thank you for all the years of service, Champ gifted your husband with a significant part of the Statesman's shares, which would assure you and your family a comfortable future to put it mildly. Not only that, but he also offered your cowboy his CEO job, not the whole chain, but from the local factory, which meant he didn't have to drive more than just a few miles until the distillery, sit down at his desk, get his demands done and come back at the end of the day to see his beautiful family. It certainly brought you a big relief, your cowboy would be safe and sound and your kids would grow up with their dad around. 

Once everyone finally went home, Jack had clarified all the professional details, he was able to shower, eat and have you take care of his wounds, stitching him up and patching him up, he was finally good to go. Of course, he had a 5 o'clock growing due to the days he was unable to shave, but he would have enough time for that. The important thing was that the four of you lay on the couch of your living room, relaxing and letting the calmness sink in. Your cowboy sighed relieved as he rubbed your arm up and down, at the same time the kids yawned but fought so hard their sleep. Wyatt was rubbing his little eyes, and yet, he didn't want to go to sleep at all, his tiny little hands caressed Rosie's thin and soft hair, the one that smelled like strawberry baby shampoo and he loved it. He giggled at her, who returned her big brother's affection by giving him a sweet gummy smile.

"Mommy, daddy, can I continue telling Rosie about the wedding?” Wyatt asked between yawns as Jack chuckled and nodded, his fingers toying with his son's soft curls, the feeling of his feeling surrounding him was better than anything he'd ever experienced before. 

"Go ahead little cowboy, just don't forget telling your pretty little sister how beautiful mama was” 

At his daddy's incentives, Wyatt let out one last long yawn and looked at his sister. 

“So, Rosie… about mommy's and daddy's wedding. Mommy was so pretty!” 

                           •••

The unusual warmth for December allowed you to have the wedding of your dreams: right by the willow trees, just as you had fantasized about since you were just Whiskey's girlfriend a few years back. Time flew by just as a lot of things between the two of you, things that had finally been settled and worked on, and your happy ending was near. You stared at yourself in the mirror, in awe at the fact the wedding dress suited you way better than you thought it would. It was a relief, as your pregnancy progressed, one of your bride's fears was not fitting into your special dress on your even more special day. Luckily, that wasn't the case. Everyone who helped you get ready, had been nothing but kind and honest, when they all told you you looked beautiful, but none of these compliments were nearly as heart warming as your son's, whose little eyes got brighter the moment he spotted you. He had insisted on getting dressed along with his dad, since he was convinced cowboys should help each other, but once he was ready in his adorable cowboy attire, he insisted on helping his mama this time, after all, you two had been best friends for a long time, so it was fair he would be by your side. Not only that, since he'd been officially invited to walk you down the aisle, Wyatt had noticed how important his task was, and he didn't want to do his mommy dirty, he wanted things to be perfect, so once he rushed to you, you simply got on your knees to hug your little man. In a way, if it weren't for him, none of that would be happening. 

"You're beautiful, mommy!” 

There was something Wyatt wasn't tired of saying, perhaps it was all the kindness you had in your heart you used to raise him well, or maybe he was just taking after his dad in being a charming cowboy, it was still too early to figure it out, but what really mattered for you, was how proud you were of the little human being he was becoming. Those were motivational things that assured you things were on the right track, when it came to raising and loving your family. As you twirled and your son clapped in excitement, he giggled and wrapped his little arms around your legs once more, not containing his urge of hugging his mommy once more. It never crossed his witty mind that it could wrinkle your beautiful dress in any way, but if you were being honest, neither did it go through your own mind. You'd never refuse any of your beloved ones’ caresses out of fear of wrinkling a piece of clothes. Things were perfect the way they were, you couldn't want anything more for the three - well, now four, of you. 

"Mommy! Daddy’s so nervous! He can't wait” Wyatt whispered between his giggles, not sure if that was gossiping or not, but he didn't see any harm in telling his mommy about important things like that, and those were important to him. You chuckled and held him again, placing a peck on top of his head and nodding. 

“Well, I'm nervous too… it's a dream daddy and I have, you know? It's coming true… it's like having so many butterflies in your tummy, kinda like when it's your birthday and you can't wait, that's all you can think of and you feel as if your tummy is funny but in a good way?!” You explained to him the best way you could, a way you knew your son was going to understand and you couldn't be happier about the face Wyatt was so damn smart. Good thing both your and the Daniels genes were a good mixture, because he took you by the hand with his smaller one and nodded. 

“It's time mommy!” 

The walk from the house to the willow trees didn't seem to be that long before your wedding day, you could've sworn things were a lot easier than they seemed at that moment, but each time you looked at your son's pure determination in taking you to his daddy, your heart calmed down. You figured your husband was as nervous as you were, but not only that, he was probably as happy as you were too, and in addition to it, he must've been so handsome. You just didn't expect him to be that handsome. So handsome that the moment you reached the willow tree path, everything seemed blurry and not so important. The decorations you knew were beautiful, the fairy lights on the trees, the roses all scattered around, the guests, all of your friends, fellow agents and important people who took part in your lives, all of that simply came second the moment you spotted your cowboy. Jack was so handsome, the gorgeous, flawless suit he'd been gifted by Eggsy and the Kingsman simply fit him like a velvet glove, perhaps it was that, or the way he took off his cowboy hat in respect at your entrance, knowing you should be the spotlight, after all, you were the bride, just not any bride, you were his bride and that was enough to make that old mushy heart beat nearly out of his chest. It was like nothing existed at that moment except you and him, and once the song played and your son took you by the hand, accomplishing the very expected task given to him, you could barely believe that was real, but it was, and you were marrying your cowboy. 

As you stood in front of your fiance, you swore you never felt such a stronger wave of love for him. You both had gone over so many things, but in the end, love overcame it all and there was no other way things would be like, you and him would finally be together, married, before the men and before God, forever and ever. 

"You look gorgeous, sugar” he whispered and took your hand, kissing it gently, before he turned to the priest and you did the same. The ceremony was short and full of beautiful words, exactly like you and Jack wanted. No boring services where you both and the guests would fall asleep halfway towards it. Your cowboy always defended the idea of small ceremonies and large parties, and you couldn't agree more. When you were both pronounced husband and wife, he kissed you, and you returned the kiss, the way he held you in his arms showing you it was real and meant to be, oh that cowboy meant business. But he didn't just stop there, once he broke the kiss, he got on his knees in front of you, like the gentleman he was and pecked your stomach very gently. An obvious and yet extremely delicate way of breaking the news to the world there was a new member of the Daniels family on their way. 

                             •••

As you carried an asleep Rosie into your eyes while Jack did the same with Wyatt - your husband was a gentleman, he carried the heavier one so your back wouldn't hurt - he couldn't help but chuckle. 

"He fell asleep before telling her about our wedding party, that was a good one” 

"And he couldn't even get to her birth either, but don't worry Jack, I'm sure we'll all be gifted with his version of the facts, all they gotta do is recharge their batteries for a little while and they'll be good to go, way better than us, by the way, because I'm exhausted” 

"Me too, sugar” 

Your cowboy planted a sweet peck on your lips, watching as you placed Rosie carefully in her crib and covered her up, tucking your gorgeous daughter in and allowing her to fly into her sweet dreams. Then, it was your son's turn, you followed Jack into Wyatt's little cowboy room and watched him do the same, tucking your son gently and wishing him sweet dreams with the loveliest whisper and closing the door behind him. And then it was just the two of you, finally the two of you. 

As Jack took you to your shared bedroom, you could already see a hint of sadness in his eyes. He was sure you were about to enquire about what happened on that mission, but the only thing you did was approach your cowboy carefully and slowly and kiss him. Feeling his heavy hands resting on your hips as they brought you closer to him at the same time you wrapped your arms around his broad width. Things didn't have to rush, not now, not at the moment where you were so deep into his caresses. As he broke the kiss, you stroked his cheek. 

"I know, Jack. I know you aren't supposed to talk about what happened on that mission, I'm aware it's top secret, but I also know you nearly died, so I just want to tell you I'm thrilled to know you aren't doing it again, I'm so happy you've finally retired, that way I don't have to worry about not having you coming back home to me, and well, us, your kids, your family. I just love you with all my heart, and I don't think I'd bear becoming a widow…” 

Your lips were immediately connected with his, as he felt the urge of kissing you once more, the way your words stung - because he knew you were correct, he knew missions were getting more and more dangerous, either that or perhaps Jack was becoming too old for that. But he also knew he had no right to screw things up, not when you two had built a gorgeous family, he didn't have the right to take that away from you by letting you become a widow, and god forbid Jack die before enjoying his marriage and kids. It wouldn't be fair, not after everything you two fought so hard for - still, your words melted his heart all at once, he loved you endlessly, more than anything in the world, and he wished he knew how to word that out for you, so a gentle kiss was the best he could come up at that moment. 

“You won't lose me, sugar. I promise you that much, you got all of me, I am retired and I'll be around so much you gonna get tired of my face all the time” 

“I doubt that, cowboy… I love you” 

"I love you too, my beautiful sugar. You're the woman of my dreams, my beautiful wife” Jack kissed your hands as he wrapped his arms around you, placing you down the bed and straddling you. He was having his way with you that night, something the two of you anticipated so much. There was nothing you wanted more than to sink into your cowboy's arms. Forever. 

                            •••

What Wyatt failed to tell his little sister before the two of them fell asleep exhaustedly wasn't the biggest part of the story, but you were sure he would've told her how good the yummy food was - and that he was the one who helped you pick it all up, and in case you and their daddy decided to get married again, for the party purpose of course, and nothing remotely similar to a breakup, Wyatt was sure you'd call Rosie for her help too. He would also tell her about how pretty it was to see the two of you waltzing, exactly like a princess and a prince, and how you and his daddy danced with Wyatt on the dance floor until he was too tired to remember what happened next. For the following months, there was nothing more than just pure bright happiness in that ranch. Wyatt started school, he was still in kindergarten, and as much as you and Jack were proud of your little boy, you could've sworn you saw a single tear run down your tough cowboy's cheek. He was thinking of how many important things he'd missed from his son's life, but that wasn't going to happen again. He was a present dad, the kind of person to attend any type of teacher-parent conference and be there all the time for his kids. He loved them with all his heart, and with the months progressing along with your pregnancy, Jack had stayed by your side at any given opportunity. He loved you, and he loved his baby girl, and every single night he dreamed of her; he dreamed of her sweet face, a face that resembled yours, as well as Wyatt's, and even resembled his own. He wondered what her hair and eye color would be like, and as he saw your pregnant belly swollen with his baby, the love seed he planted there, it also made his own heart swollen with pride. 

When you woke up cramping and soon enough your water broke, he felt he had won the damn Superbowl, driving you to the hospital in his Bronco at the speed of light and later on having Helen pick up Wyatt from school and take him to the hospital. By the time your lovely little cowboy was officially a big brother to your newest bundle of joy: Rose Marie Daniels. 

Although Wyatt insisted on calling her Rosie because he thought it was cuter and the nickname sort of caught on. If you usually went by ‘sugar’, your husband and son went by ‘cowboy’, why couldn't your beautiful daughter go by ‘Rosie’ after all?

And so went on your life as a married woman to the man of your dreams and your two beautiful children. There was nothing you could ask for, you had it all, and you loved every single part of it. 

                              •••  

A whole year had passed: your cowboy had finally gotten used to his retirement, out go super secret dangerous missions, and in come mornings spent at the distillery, supervising the production of the finest Statesman's liquor, afternoons spent taking care of the ranch and carrying Rosie all over, as the two of them waited eagerly for Wyatt to come home from school. You had talked to your husband about daycare, he knew it was quite a good idea, his baby daughter was smart and fast as a thunder, but the mere idea of sending her off to spend the whole day away from him was enough to tear his heart apart: he couldn't go without watching silly little cartoons, or making  cute piggy tails on her soft hair and allow her to take a daily nap on top of his chest and belly. She was almost turning two, and as much as it mesmerized him to see her blossoming and growing up so fast, it still saddened him to see how fast time flew by. He was getting a third kid fever, but he wasn't sure if it was happening; maybe it was, he still needed to talk to you about it, but those were later plans, he still had so much to do with his life, with his family, he wanted to enjoy Wyatt, who was now nearly turning 8. His beautiful Rosie was practically a toddler now, and there was nothing more he enjoyed in the world than picking up Wyatt from school and letting the kids run loose with you in the green fields while he grilled his famous burgers. Those were special days, because they had nothing elaborated in them, just a family moment among the Daniels, something the brokenhearted cowboy thought he would never get, but turns out he did. He deserved it all. After trying so hard to convince himself he didn't, after trying to convince himself he was just a heartless man, he was shown he wasn't a horrible human being as the two of you had thought several times. You two had come along a long way, but in the end, things had worked out, because your love was big and strong, and nothing in the world could come between you. 

As you watched Wyatt and Rosie playing with Silver Star, you walked to Jack, wrapping your arms around his body and kissing him deeply. His face was smooth as always and his mustache always trimmed, just as you loved kissing and riding quite often. You smirked at him and snuggled him.

“So, have you made up your mind, honey?” 

"About what, sugar?” 

“You know, running for mayor in this upcoming election..” 

You and Jack had discussed it, more likely drunkenly discussing the possibility, you didn't know if he had actually meant that, but you knew your husband well enough to see that fire in his eyes and the genuine will to help the ones in need and give it back to the city that took him in. He returned the smile and kissed your neck, warning a groan from you. 

"I still don't know, I think of it sometimes, it would be nice, I know I'd have support from you, the kids and quite a lot of people in town, but I worry it would make our lives too exposed you know, and I don't want that, I love our life the way it is, how happy and calm those kids are, I don't know about mixing up things…”

“Well, I want you to remember I love you and I'll support you no matter what. I gotta admit it makes me feel a little nervous to have this possibility of getting into politics and having our lives changing completely, although I'm sure I'd love to call you Mr.Mayor” 

And at that naughty line, you earned a smack on your butt, making you squirm softly and see your cowboy really enjoyed the nickname, even if he didn't try running for mayor. Still, there was something else you knew he wanted, it could be a future plan too, but it wouldn't hurt to talk about it. 

"You know, I was thinking that maybe in the near future, we could have a third baby… what about adopting this time?” 

And your cowboy's heart nearly exploded with happiness and excitement. There was nothing he wanted more than seeing his family grow. No matter if it was by blood or simply by love, for a man who bought a ranch to fill it in with broken promises and lost dreams, nothing made him happier than to see his family running all over that place with so much joy and excitement. The happy giggles and squeals, and to think that could even grow, it was just an endless bliss, the kind of bliss Jack Daniels, former Agent Whiskey had to pinch himself and make sure he wasn't asleep, but instead, it was his lovely, beautiful reality. 

"Daddy!!! We're hungry!” 

Wyatt chimed in as he ran to him, followed by Rosie, who clung to her dad as if her little life depended on it. 

"Yes, daddy, we’we hungwy!” She imitated her big brother, still not able to pronounce the R’s properly and making her daddy's heart melt into a puddle of love and affection. He got on his knees, wrapping his arms around his children. He loved them with all his heart. Just as much as he loved you, deeply, more than anything he had ever loved anyone. 

Jack Daniels, former Agent Whiskey, a man whose heart was once broken, was now a man full of love. He was devoted to his wife and his beautiful kids, nothing in the world mattered more than them and for someone who had been known as a heartless man, he was nothing but love and comfort for you, Wyatt and Rosie. 

The four of you were perfect for each other and maybe in the near future, there would be another addition to the Daniels, but until then, that cowboy was going to devote himself completely to you. 

He wasn't ever called a heartless man again, not with that amount of love he felt overflowing through himself. He loved and he received love, just like he was supposed to, just like he deserved it. 

____

A/N: thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you all for the kindness and the support you all showed me with this story. It's been nearly a year of what should've been just a one shot and turned into a 20 chapter piece of work! I'm so happy and proud of myself for being able to write this beautiful story, nothing cheers up my heart more than knowing you all showed me so much love! Please besties, it's been a long ride, so if you can, leave me a feedback for our cowboy's last ride, I hope you've enjoyed it, as much as I did! Love you all and once more, thank you for the support ❤️💫

[lionlena]

Mean (JackDanielsxf!reader)

Summary: You argue with your husband Jack on the phone and you don't speak to him for the next month. When Jack comes home he find out why you've been so nervous... And he's crazy with happiness.

Warning: A bit sad, Jack is a bit rude but then it's all sweetness, hurt/comfort, reader is Jack's wife, pregnancy.

Mari this is for you because you once mentioned that you want Jack who is happy because of the reader's pregnancy and he take care of his pregnant wife and he is happy to be a dad.

@creedslove​

With each word Jack spoke, you felt more and more nervous and angry. You couldn't control your anger anymore.

"You promised!" you growled.

You heard a sigh. "Sugar, don't act like a child. You knew who you were marrying. I need to take this mission."

"You're mean," you hissed.

You didn't mean it at all, but it was too late. You could only imagined Jack's eyes darkening.

"I'm mean!?" he growled. "I am mean because I earn your comfortable life?! Mean because I save the world?! Mean because I'm not your ex who sitting in front of the computer all day?!"

There was silence, but you heard your husband's heavy breathing. You knew he was trying to calm down. You finally said, "See you in a month and... Take care of yourself."

"Sug…"

You hung up. You didn't want to listen to him anymore. You sat on the couch and cried. Your hormones were raging, and you wanted nothing more than for Jack to put his arms around you and calm you down. But none of that. Your husband has been on a mission for two months. When you spoke to him two days ago, he promised you he was coming back and you were so happy because you had wonderful news to tell him, but today he called and said he would be gone for another month. You looked disappointedly at the small box with a bow on the coffee table. Inside was a pregnancy test (one of ten that you took), blood tests confirming your condition, and a photo from your first ultrasound which finally confirmed you were 3 months pregnant.

The next month was a nightmare for you. You didn't talk to Jack, and you didn't know if it was because of his mission or a quarrel. He was texting you, but you ignored him and didn't text back. You cried a lot and didn't sleep. You blamed it on your hormones, but the truth was different. You terribly missed your cowboy.

You finally got a text message saying, 'I'll be home after midnight. I love you sugar <3'

You didn't reply again. You didn't want him to think you forgave him so easily. So you prepared a place for him to sleep on the couch. But you also made dinner and left it in the oven. Then you went to bed early because you were terribly tired.

Jack entered the house cautiously. It was dark everywhere, and he didn't like it. He knew you. He knew you missed him. Normally you always waited for him. He was sorry for his earlier behavior. It wasn't your first fight, but by far the longest. And he had to admit he felt a little guilty. He shouldn't have yelled at you. But you weren't okay either. He didn't know what got into you. He noticed that there was a small light in the kitchen and his heart jumped. Were you waiting for him there? Unfortunately, instead of you, he found a note left on the kitchen counter. The message in your handwriting: 'Dinner is waiting in the oven.'

And nothing more. He sighed heavily and shook his head. He didn't feel like eating anything. He was hungry for your body, your smell, touch, and voice.

On his way to your bedroom, he noticed a pillow and a blanket on the couch. He paused for a moment and looked at it with amusement. Did you really think you could make Jack Daniels sleep on the couch? He rolled his eyes and walked over to you.

He took off only his shoes, stetson, and jacket before carefully climbing onto the bed. He knew you were awake. He could just feel it. He snuggled against your back, pressing his nose into your neck and inhaling your scent. He was finally able to relax. He was home.

His hand began to roam your body and landed on your stomach. He frowned slightly. He knew your body by heart. Every mole, every scar, every chubby spot, and suddenly your sweet belly seemed a little plumper to him. However, he quickly dismissed the thought that flashed through his mind. Maybe you had a period? He wouldn't admit it, but every time when your tummy got swollen during your period, he couldn't stop thinking about you with his baby in your womb. Even if those thoughts also caused him pain at the same time, the excitement always won out. He wanted a second chance.

He sighed heavily and brushed his lips against your neck, purring, "Honey, I know you're awake. Come on... Say 'hello' to your cowboy."

"Didn't you notice the pillow and blanket on the couch?"

He laughed slightly. "Sugar, we both know you don't want this."

You shifted uneasily and groaned, "How do you know what I want? I've been alone lately.“

You didn't mean to sound so pathetic, but emotions were mixing inside you.

Jack moved up a little and started to cover your arms with kisses.

"Sugar, you know I hate being away from you. I really had to take this mission. I'm sorry that I was… Mean."

You gripped his hands tightly and sadly said, "I just want you to be home for the next few months."

Jack sensed how nervous you were and started to worry about you. "Okay, I'll stay. But, what happened?"

You sniffled and cursed your hormones. "I will need you in the coming months."

Agent Whiskey rarely panicked, but when he heard your crying voice, his heart started beating like crazy. He propped himself up on his hands so he could look at your face.

"What's wrong? Are you... Sick? Something that..."

The words couldn't come out of his throat. He couldn't imagine losing you. He wouldn't survive the loss of his wife a second time.

You smiled and touched his face.

"I wouldn't call it a disease."

Your hand touching his face went to your stomach. He followed the movement and his eyes widened.

"Wait, will you… Will we have…"

You bit your lip and nodded your head, and he went crazy. First, he kissed you passionately on the lips, then with a wide smile he headed towards your belly. He pulled your nightgown up and began to cover your skin with kisses. His mustache tickled you every time. After a few minutes, he finally calmed down. He knelt by your side, but one of his hands still remained on the small mound.

"So that's why you were so nervous."

You nodded your head and he sighed and looked at you sadly. "Why didn't you tell me right away? Then I would never have taken this mission."

"I didn't want to say it over the phone. I wanted to see your reaction" you moaned miserably as tears started to roll down your cheek.

Damn hormones.

Jack leaned in and cupped your cheeks. "Shhh, it's okay my love" he cooed and started kissing your face. "Now, only you and our baby are important to me.”

You pulled him closer to you and buried your face in his shoulder. Jack, however, was very careful not to put pressure on your belly, and after a while, he said, "Come sugar, let's switch positions."

But before he did, he kissed your belly one more time purring, "Hey baby. Daddy's here now and he'll take care of you and mommy, so don't worry about anything and just keep growing."

You smiled and ran your hand through his dark hair. Jack looked at you with eyes full of love. He laid down on his back and pulled you against his chest. You sighed in relief as you felt the familiar warmth and scent. Jack's hand caressed your back and his lips brushed your head.

"I missed you," you said sleepily.

His arm tightened around your body as he replied, "Me too. You are my home. My happiness."

You closed your eyes and smiled. You knew you'd finally sleep well. And you were sure that for the next few months, Jack would take care of you, shower you with gifts and make sure you didn't run out of anything.

You knew he'd be getting the baby room ready and smiling broadly as he did so. Maybe he'll go a little overboard and buy overpriced stuff at times, but who could blame him?

And when your little one finally comes into the world, whether it's a boy or a girl, Jack will be the best and most loving dad in the world.

*

[penvisions]

sneakie peek {buckles and barley}

Pairing: Rancher! Jack Daniels x Ranch hand! Reader

A/N: this is a teaser for the series, i'm beginning to outline it and wanted to share a little bit with you since i'm not sure when posting will begin

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

Bright sunshine reflected off the frame around rearview mirror, making you squint your eyes to see through the amber of your sunglasses as it hit you square in the eye. The blue expanse of the sky littered with wispy clouds blurred.

The rumbling of the engine underneath the hood was a comfort that had soothed you since childhood. Such a simple thing, to be in a vehicle that was hurtled down asphalt, eating it up foot by foot, yard by yard, mile by mile. Taking you to someplace new, transporting you into a liminal space where you didn’t have to think about anything but the road stretched out in front of you.

You glance at the directions you had printed out and laid over the passenger seat, too anxious to have typed it into your phone or into the device installed on your dash. The matte screen of it was blank, the power wire bouncing with the turbulence of the moving vehicle. It looked like there was two more curves on your path to the destination and you began to turn the wheel ever so slightly to take the one coming up. The crunch of errant pebbles underneath the tires wiping the anxiety away as the hills all around you flattened out to open plains.

Lush, tall grass as far as you could see, wooden fences winding through patches of the land. Splotches of dark color corralled within the spaces. You wondered what they could be, thoughts lost until a long, high-pitched whistle broke the peace within the cab as it snuck inside your cracked windows. You turned your head along with the closest herd of animals.

You don’t know how you initially missed the shape of the tall man atop a horse as it galloped over the land. The steady beat of hooves on the ground mirroring the ones of your heart as your eyes took in the figure. From the top of his wide brimmed cowboy hat to the spurs on his boots. He was in a complete partnership with the horse he was perched on, both of them working seamlessly together to circle around a body of what you could assume was cattle as the shine of horns glinted in the sun.

A lasso whipping up into the air had you subconsciously slowing down, your right foot lifting off of the accelerator pedal. Directing the vehicle out of the middle of the road, stopping to a crawl along the right side. Distantly following the pair as they successfully landed a hold on biggest one of the herd and began to guide them away from where they had been roaming.

Stopping at the line of wooden fence that must’ve outlined a part of his property, the man dismounted and effortlessly unhinged a portion of it and swung it open. With smooth movements and controlled balance, the man was back in the saddle.  Another sharp whistle had the herd of cattle moving through the open fence.

Breath catching in your throat as the man turned to face you across the plain, his left hand secure around the horse’s reigns while his right lifted up to tilt his hat in a greeting. You could see from your spot on the road, the vehicle barely moving along now that your foot was easing down on the brake, that he was grinning.

Heat flooded your cheeks as you realized not only had you been outright starting as the stranger went about his day, but that your vehicle had nearly halted as you did so. The sound of your engine still running giving you away. You raised your hand up in response, palm open and fingers trembling slightly.

With a click of his tongue to guide the horse after the herd, he turned around in the saddle, lasso circling in the air above him in a hypnotizing manner. Snapping his wrist, the rope flew out to wrap around the top of the open partition and it clanged shut with a tug. Turning back around to face forward, the horse sped off and disappeared over the other side of a rolling hill.

taglist: @morallyinept @readingiskeepingmegoing @cumberpegg @hiddenbabynyc

@persephone-girl @agiroflee98 @sawymredfox @fuckyeahdindjarin

[pedrorascal]

Space Sisters 2023 Secret Santa – Masterlist

We would like to thank every server member who participated in this event! 🎄

You can find all the gifts published by the participants under the cut!

Happy Holidays from the admins and mods of the Space Sisters server! 💚

(about Space Sisters || join us!)

MASTERLIST

* - Mature/Explicit work

VISUAL ART & MISC

Gifset (The Last of Us) - from @trashcora to @thetriumphantpanda

Gifset (Marcus Pike) - from @perotovar to @agentmarcuspike

Fanvideo (Din Djarin) - from @survivingandenduring to @trashcora

Graphic & Poem (Ezra, Joel Miller, Frankie Morales) - from @gasolinerainbowpuddles to @doctorliamsr

FANFICTION

Frankie Morales

no need for mistletoe - from @undercoverpena to @nothoughtsjustmeds

Jack Daniels

* Cowboys & Closeups - from @agentjackdaniels to @epicrainbowsheep

Oberyn Martell

* Reaching for the sweetest, sweetest peaches - from @psychedelic-ink to @iamasaddie

Din Djarin

No Words Needed - from @againstacecilia to @sweetercalypso

Dieter Bravo

No Way Out - from @doctorliamsr to @psychedelic-ink

* Red Herring - from @nothoughtsjustmeds to @missredherring

* Best in Show - from @covetyou to @agentjackdaniels

Marcus Pike

* The Longest Night - from @agentmarcuspike to @perotovar

the gift that keeps giving - from @thetriumphantpanda to @undercoverpena

* baby, when the lights go out - from @iamasaddie to @survivingandenduring

Joel Miller

Friendly Conversation - from @doctorliamsr to @psychedelic-ink

* Old Holiday, New Traditions - from @pascalispretty to @bluebeary-jay

the most wonderful time - from @always-andromeda to @janaispunk

Around the Tree - from @sweetercalypso to @againstacecilia

* Darlin’ just you wait till then - from @epicrainbowsheep to @gasolinerainbowpuddles

it’s the season - from @janaispunk to @pascalispretty

Wrong Until You Make It Right - from @missredherring to @covetyou

Hold me close and hold me fast - from @bluebeary-jay to @always-andromeda

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 💚