#dom!agent whiskey x sub!reader

[thatredheadwriter]

Movie Day

jack daniels x reader

Here’s some more smut. This is the third fic I’ve finished in two days and I feel so powerful! Please enjoy dom!Agent Whiskey with edging AND overstim. This one’s just over 1.2k words.

This is an NSFW oneshot for female reader with Jack Daniels (aka Agent Whiskey) of Kingsman 2: The Golden Circle. This work contains smut and mature language and should not be read by those under 18. As a writer, I will attempt to make accurate warnings for each of my fics, however, I cannot guarantee that I will identify each and every sensitive topic. My works regularly contain swearing, allusions to/mentions of sex, and canon-level violence.

Content Includes (but is not limited to):

dom!Jack

sub!reader

Pet names (kitten, sweetheart, darling)

Fingering (f receiving)

Teasing

threats of ambiguous punishment

Edging

Oral (f receiving)

Overstim

Reader protests at overstimulation once, but does not safeword. I want to make it clear that this is an established couple with safewords in place.

Sub drop

After care bath

Please read at your own discretion and remember to consume your fanfiction responsibly.

“Ja-ack!” you whined, squirming in your seat.

The cowboy pinned to the couch halfway underneath you just chuckled darkly in your ear, “Hush, kitten. I can’t hear the movie.”

As if he’s even watching the stupid action-comedy the two of you had finally agreed upon just an hour earlier. Despite the way his chocolate brown eyes stayed glued to the TV, you knew he was focused on his hand inside your shorts–the one that’s been teasing you for almost exactly nineteen and a half minutes. His thick ring and middle fingers curled in and out of your sex as his thumb rubbed lazy circles around your clit.

When his fingers scraped that spot inside you there was no way to hold back the whimper that bubbled up, and Jack froze in retaliation. “I told you to be quiet,” he growled lowly, mustache tickling your ear, “I wouldn’t want to have to stop the movie just to punish this pretty pussy.”

You turn so suddenly to look at him that you nearly headbut him. The desperate look in your eyes has him softening instantly, the hand not buried in your cunt came up to stroke your cheek.

“If you can make it to the end of the movie, I promise you’ll enjoy the reward. Think you can do that, kitten?”

Your head is so cloudy you could only manage a pitiful nod, and Jack placed a kiss to your forehead before redirecting both of you to look back at the screen.

It was torture. Absolute hell.

Before you left Statesman to retire with Jack, you’d been through agent training, even though you were just a lab tech. You knew what it was like to be electrocuted, waterboarded, and shot. But right now, you’d relive every simulated extreme duress situation at once if it meant you could cum. The desperation was overwhelming.

It wasn’t just the physical need to cum, though. It was the man underneath you, the one whose hand expertly brought you right to the edge before easing back seven times–never once stopping. Jack was warm underneath you, strong and full of life. His broad shoulders cradled you perfectly as you became lost to the pleasure, chest rising and falling underneath you keeping you grounded in the moment, along with the faint scent of his cologne and the bourbon that always followed him.

You needed Jack. You needed him to make you cum.

Jack was surprised when you didn’t immediately react when the sunset on-screen faded to black, credits flashing across the screen. You didn’t respond until his hand stopped moving, for the first time in over an hour. Immediately your hips started grinding down, seeking the familiar friction he’d been so giving with, a pitiful whine slipping past your lips as you turned to look up at him.

“You did it, kitten,” he purred, pulling his soaked hand from your shorts. You watched in fascination as he sucked each of his fingers clean before pulling you into a kiss that made your head spin.

“Please-” you start to beg, but Jack cuts you off with another kiss.

“Shh, it’s alright. I’m gonna take care of you.”

You’re not sure how you end up back in bed, but you don’t care. Not when Jack has made camp between your thighs, eating like it’s his last meal. It’s a rare treat that Jack pleasures you like this without restraining you in some way first, and your hands are tangled in the sheets as you try to keep from doing anything that might get him to stop.

“Come on, kitten,” he raises his head just a few inches to speak just as he slips two of his thick fingers inside, sending you arching of the bed. “I can feel you. Cum for me, sweetheart.”

And you do. You’ve never been able to say no to that sweet honeyed voice, thick with a southern drawl that permeated every pore of your body.

It’s like floating, every nerve of your body in perfect sync as pleasure washes over you in wave after wave. But you’re slammed back down to earth as Jack’s nose bumps your clit at the same time he slides another finger into you.

“Too much!” you whine, and try to pull yourself up the bed to get away. But his arm around your thigh hold tight, not letting up even as your legs tense around his head.

“Give me one more, darling. I know you’ve got it,” he growls, fingers fucking into you even harder.

Any other time you’d be self conscious about the noises you’re making, or the wet sound of Jack’s fingers plunging into your pussy. But your brain melted away long ago, and Jack wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Kitten, you sound just as sweet as you taste,” he groans, “Come on now, soak me sweet heart.”

Jack finally releases your leg and fumbles wildly for your hand, yanking it out of the sheets and pulling it onto his head. Your fingers instantly tangle into his hair and tug hard as a sob rips through you and the world falls away around you.

The next thing your body knows is the tender press of Jack’s lips up the skin between your breast, the tickle of his mustache encouraging your heavy eyes open.

“There’s my girl,” he grins, relief evident in his voice. You just hum in response. “That was a big one, huh?”

He settles in next to you as you nod, curling into his side.

“Stay with me sweetheart,” he urges, turning your body to face him. “I need you to come back to me.”

“I jus’ wanna sleep,” you mumble, brow furrowing in frustration as Jack moves you again.

“I know, but I need to clean you up first, darlin’. Gonna let me take you to the bath?”

Jack doesn’t wait for your response, instead leaving the bed for the ensuite where you hear water running and the smell of rose and bergamot follows shortly after. Minutes later you’re guided into the bathroom and sinking into a hot bath.

Your sweet cowboy never leaves your side the entire time. Jack didn’t care that his t-shirt got soaked as he washed you, whispering little praises in your ear and pressing kisses to the glistening skin of your shoulder.

“I love you,” you smile tiredly as Jack wraps you in a big fluffy white towel.

“I love you too, kitten,” he murmurs into the top of your head. “You had me worried there for a minute. I thought I’d pushed you too far.”

“Never, Jack. It was perfect, thank you. I’m just sorry I didn’t take care of you.”

He rolls his eyes. “Sweetheart, there are very few things in this world that make me truly happy, but seeing you lose yourself like that…” he trails off, clicking his tongue, “That’s just something else.”

“Come on, cowboy,” you tug him towards the bedroom and manage to strip him of his shirt. “I still can’t feel my legs and I have no clue what that movie was about.”

Jack barks a laugh and lets you pull him into bed. Movie days are officially a favorite, for both of you.

[pedropascallme]

Surprise, Surprise

Pairing: Daddy!Whiskey x f!Reader

Summary: "No, it wasn’t often you got to visit your Agent Whiskey while he worked, but it was always fun to surprise him. Especially when you knew you’d be in for a surprise yourself when he got home."

Warnings: Smut (18+ MINORS DNI), this is porn. Straight up porn. p in v sex, dom/sub dynamics (dom!Whiskey x sub!Reader), Daddy kink, mild degradation, brattamer!Whiskey, praise kink, boot worship, cum play. If I missed anything please let me know!

You pulled down your skirt as you maneuvered your way through hallways before knocking on Jack’s office door. It wasn’t often that you got to visit your Agent Whiskey while he worked, but it was always fun to surprise him.

“C’mon in.” He called from behind the door. You pushed it open.

He sat at his desk, legs spread, hat on. God, he was pretty.  

“My girl,” he drawled out, “to what do I owe the pleasure?” You flounced over to him, taking a seat on his thigh.

“Wanted to see you. Got bored, finished work early today.” You explained, hands grabbing at the collar of his shirt before fanning your fingers out over his chest. He pulled you in, covering your face with kisses before planting one on your lips.

“It’s a nice surprise.”

“Brought you something!” You wiggled slightly atop him, bringing your purse off your shoulder and onto your own lap.

“A surprise from my surprise,” he put a hand on the back of your head, rubbing his thumb slightly against your temple. “Show me, baby.”

“Close your eyes.” You commanded. He scoffed but did what he was told.

You opened your purse, keeping your surprise to him balled in your fist before letting it unravel slightly.

“Gimme your hand.” You reached for his arm, bringing it up to you, dropping the surprise into his opened hand. “Open!”

He opened his eyes, immediately looking down at his hand, which was now gripping a pair of your lacy panties. He growled.

“Fuckin’ minx. This my surprise?”

“Do you like it, daddy?” You feigned innocence, rubbing your thighs together slightly where you sat on him. “Thought you’d like to see what you were missing while you worked.”

“Gonna kill me, sugar.” He leaned in, ready for a heated kiss, but you turned your head, lifting yourself up off his lap.

“Princess…”

“I gotta go. I’ll see you at home, Jack.” You began to walk out the door, pretending to drop your purse in front of you. “Oops!” You bent over to pick it up, purposefully spreading your legs and letting your skirt ride up, exposing your naked cunt to Jack as he looked on.

“You—” He began to speak, but you cut him off.

“Bye, daddy!” You shut the door to his office.

No, it wasn’t often you got to visit your Agent Whiskey while he worked, but it was always fun to surprise him. Especially when you knew you’d be in for a surprise yourself when he got home.

~~~

“Where are ya, sugar?” Jack opened the door, taking long strides throughout your shared house. He opened the door to the bedroom, and there you were: Sitting pretty, stripped down for him, waiting.

“Fuckin’ slut. Knew you’d be in trouble, huh?” He closed the space between you, walking over to the bed and sitting down, stroking your hair. You leaned into his touch.

“Want you, daddy.”

“I know you do, princess. But do bad girls get what they want?”

You smiled, “Maybe.”

“Don’t get smug with me.” He grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into him, grabbing you by the hair and kissing your exposed neck and chest. You let out a small gasp. “Try again, now. Do bad girls get what they want?”

“No, daddy.”

“Good. How ‘bout you get on your knees.”

You did as he suggested, getting off the bed and settling yourself between his spread legs. You reached for his belt, but Jack grabbed your wrists in one hand.

“Didn’t say you could touch.” He threw your wrists down. “Didn’t say you’d be suckin’ my cock, either.”

“Daddy…” You whined.

“Y’see these boots?” He rested his leg on his heel. “Brand new, darlin’. Need’a break ‘em in. You gonna help me?” You nodded, scootching yourself over to rest yourself over his foot. “S’what I thought. Good l’il whore.” You waited for his signal, waited to be told what to do. Under different circumstances, you might just go for it, but you were in enough trouble as it was, and you didn’t want to test your luck.

“Go on, then, sugar. Show daddy how much you like his new boots. Shine ‘em up for me.”

You positioned your clit over the lowest point of the ankle of the shoe, right where it began to curve over the top of his foot. The friction made you moan, and you grabbed Jack’s thigh to anchor yourself. You rocked back and forth, each swipe of your bud over the leather making you grow wetter.

“Knew you could be good for me.” Jack let out a low groan, his hand brushing over the buldge growing under his jeans. He shifted his foot slightly, adding pressure to your clit, and you whimpered.

“Clo—se.” You squeezed Jack’s thigh, feeling yourself speed towards your high.

“Should you be allowed to cum, princess? You were awful naughty today. Showin’ up dressed like a slut, givin’ daddy your panties just to tease…”

“Oh, please, pl—ease! Daddy, I’ll be g-good! Won’t tease anymore, let you do anything!” You sped up your movements, grinding yourself down onto his boot.

“Anything?”

“Anything!”

“Whore.” He smirked. “You wanna be good, now? Cum for me.”

You felt the overwhelming pleasure of his words, combined with your movements, and it pushed you over the edge. You trembled, legs burning from the position you had kept for so long. Jack, tormenting you, pushed his boot into your clit, causing you to yelp and grasp his calf in an attempt to hold yourself up.

“C’mere, baby.” He grabbed you under your arms, large hands wrapping around your ribcage and hauling you up to straddle him. You nuzzled yourself into his neck.

“Thank you, daddy.”

“No need to thank me yet, sugar. Not done with you.” You let out a happy hum at his words. “Give your daddy a kiss.” You looked up at him, placing your mouth on his. His mustache tickled your upper lip as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You sucked on it, before sliding your own tongue over it. He groaned.

“Hands and knees.” He broke away from you, picking you up and all but throwing you onto the bed. You pushed yourself up onto your limbs; legs bent and spread, just how he liked you. You heard the clang of his belt buckle as he undid it, tossing it next to you on the bed. You knew it would be the only article of clothing he took off—he liked having you spread out naked, just for him to see, while he remained fully clothed. The show of power made shivers run up your spine, and you knew he was probably hard from thinking about showing you just how in control he was.

You felt a finger run through your slit, arching your back and letting out a breathy noise.

“Drippin’ for me, princess.” He ran his finger back and forth through you, letting your wet collect on the tip of his middle finger. His feather light touch drove you crazy, and you attempted to push yourself onto his finger, desperate and needy to be filled by him. You raised your hips, and he smacked you on the ass, hard.

“How many times do I gotta tell you to behave today?” He smacked your ass again, making you moan. “Look at you, so fuckin’ greedy. You like lettin’ your daddy hit you like that? Want me to spank you so you remember how to be good?”

“I can be good.” You protested.

“Don’t talk back to me.” He spanked you once more, and you moaned louder.

“Please!”

“Please what?”

“Please will you fuck me, daddy?”

“Well there y’go, finally rememberin’ some manners.” You heard him unzip his fly. He took out his cock, long and hard and leaking for you—he really liked being in total control.

“Gonna take it like a good girl?” He asked, rubbing his cock between the cheeks of your ass before placing the tip right against your hole.

“Yes, daddy. Promise.”

“Good. ‘Cause I’m gonna fuck you like a whore.” He pushed his full length into you, immediately starting a punishingly rough pace. All you could do was cry out, trying your best to remember to say thank you while he ruined your pussy, all but rearranging your insides.

“Fuck, sugar, you got the prettiest pussy. S’it all for me, baby?”

“Mhm!” You moaned out a response. He pulled you up to his chest, still pistoning his hips into you.

“Use your fuckin’ words. This pussy all for me?” He wrapped his hand around your throat, keeping the other on your hip.

“Y—es! All f—or y-ah!-you!”

“Belongs to me, don’t it?”

“Yes, daddy—yes! It’s y—ours it’s all yours! Fuck, Jack!” His cock pounded into your g-spot, and you yelled out for him.

“That’s not my fuckin’ name.” He drew his cock all the way out of you before pushing himself all the way back in at a slower pace.

“Daddy! Daddy! I’m sorry!”

“Sorry for what?” He picked up the pace again.

“S—orry for misbehaving daddy, I’m sorry!” Your arms wrapped around his neck from behind, careful to not push his hat off his head.

“That’s right. Good girl.” You gasped as his fingers began massaging your clit. He kissed your neck, sucking and leaving marks. “See what manners get you, princess? Gonna let you cum on daddy’s cock. Bein’ so good for me.” He rubbed circles on you, feeling you squeeze his cock as you neared completion.

“Oh, there! Yes, yes, yesyesyes!” You let the pleasure Jack gave you wash over your body, his cock thrusting into you as you came. He lowered your body forward, laying you down on your stomach, knees folded under you and arms unable to support yourself, as he gave you a few final thrusts. Your pussy clenched around him, the aftershock of your orgasm leaving you a completely blissed out, fucked out mess.

“So perfect, darlin’. Think you can get on your knees for daddy again?” He whispered, gently sliding out of you. You whined at the loss, but got up and fell to your knees in front of him.

“Good girl.” He fucked into his fist, using your juices as lube to finish himself off. “Gonna give you a reward, baby. Wanna let daddy paint your face?” He looked down at you, you smiled and nodded.

“Yes please, daddy.” You placed your hands on his thighs, positioning yourself right under his cock.

“Fuck, baby, look at me like that. Just like that, princess. Gonna cum all over your pretty fuckin’ face—fuck, fuck!” He came with a groan, moaning your name as he emptied himself onto you. Ropes of his cum landed on your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, and you batted your lashes up at Jack as he gave himself a few final pumps.

“Christ almighty…” He looked down at you, chest heaving. “God, what a sight you are.” He leaned down, giving you a kiss, tasting himself on you.

“What’tya say?” He prompted, straightening up and tucking his softening cock back into his jeans.

“Thank you, daddy.” You slid your fingers over your cheek, bringing his cum down into your mouth as you sucked it off two of your digits.

“Good girl.” He took off his hat, placing it on your head. “All mine.”

“All yours, daddy.” You beamed.

He took your hand, bringing you up to him, both of you falling onto the bed.

“Like when you surprise me at work.” One of his fingers glided through his cum on your face, bringing it up to your lips and letting you suck. “Like putting you in your place, too.”

You released his finger, licking the tip as he withdrew it.

“Be honest with me sugar: How long were you waitin’ for me in bed before I got home?”

“Too long. Wanted you to take me in your office.”

“What a good girl you are for waitin’.”

You slid a hand over the brim of his hat, tipping it towards Jack. “Much obliged, cowboy.” He chuckled.

“Don’t go getting’ all smart with me, now, girl.” He smiled. “Still got another boot that could use a good shine.” He licked more of his cum off your cheek.

“I’ll be good, daddy.” You leaned your face into him, letting him taste himself. “But I can be good and shine your shoes.”

“I know, princess. I know you can. Think you should keep the hat on, this time.”

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 9

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 17.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Surprises, vomiting, anxiety, spectacularly bad decision making, talking of children/pregnancy. Morning sex, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, consensual choking, light dom/sub play, rough sex. Summary: Your 30th birthday is not at all what you expected. Not at at all. Notes: Beloved darlings, please forgive any errors I might have missed. Ya girl has had another busy week, but at least the sickness has lifted!

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8

It’s been a perfect, magical day in Marcus’s opinion. Waking up with you and spending the entire day together hasn’t tamed the desire to be with you, it’s only fanned that desire. Now he gets to watch you get ready for the party, stopping by his apartment to pick up a suit, you had both decided that he would change here at the inn with you.

“So, is this place actually a pub or did my mother book something swanky and just lie through her teeth?” You ask, eyes gliding down his frame as you slip into your least worn little black dress for the party. It’s the one you always think is just a little too festive or too vintage, and it always gets swapped out for something more reasonable. Marcus had insisted you wear it when he heard you say ‘too’ anything.

He smirks slightly and debates on whether or not to tell you. “You have to be surprised, but yes.” He chuckles. “I think Round Robin counts as a pub.”

“It is not Round Robin.” It gets a laugh out of you, though, making you snort inelegantly as you struggle to zip your dress. “Their food doesn’t meet Dad’s approval. He’d never okay it.”

“Then it’s a good thing that we are actually going to Statesman.” He admits with a grin, moving over to zip up the back of your dress for you and kissing your shoulder when he’s done.

“Statesman…” In the second it takes you to search your memory for why that name sounds familiar, you light up. “Like The Statesman Club? I’ve always wanted to try that place!”

“Good.” He grins at you and picks up your necklace to help you put it on. “We will try all the fancy whiskeys we want.”

“Well now I just feel positively spoiled.” Partially from the choice of location, but also Marcus being such a gentleman.

“It is your birthday.” He reminds you, sliding the chain around your neck. “You should be spoiled.”

“And when it’s your birthday, you’ll be spoiled too,” you promise him, grinning at his reflection in the mirror.

“We can cross that bridge later.” His hands rest on your shoulders gently. “Tonight is about you.”

"Are you still okay with me telling everyone?" If he's not then you'll keep your soulmate status to yourself tonight, or for however long he wants to keep that particular fact private.

“Of course I am.” He stares at you in the mirror, unable to believe what a lucky bastard he is. “You never need to worry about that.”

"I just thought I should check." You beam at him, turning around in his arms to wrap your own around his neck and kiss him. "Seemed polite to me."

“Shout it from the rooftop and splash it in the Post.” He urges you. “I will happily agree and brag to everyone who asks.”

Grinning from ear to ear, you seriously consider doing just that but figure somebody at The Post will have a field day writing their own little editorial about it when it becomes public knowledge. "I love you, too."

“I love you.” He promises and bites his lip. “Do you want your birthday present now? Or at the party?”

"You didn't have to get me anything." There's no chance he would have listened to you if you had protested beforehand, but you still do. Just having him is gift enough.

He scoffs and lifts a brow, waiting for your real answer.

The burn in your cheeks is enough, and you grin again, unrepentantly. "Is there enough time to do it now?"

“Of course there is.” He promises and pulls out the gift he had put in his jacket pocket. It might be too much too soon, but he couldn’t resist.

The small jewelry box all tied up in ribbon in his hand is unmistakable, but you tilt your head slightly and look up at him curiously. "Really?" A book maybe, or flowers, or even something a little nerdy and sweet – all of those things you would have accepted easily. But jewelry is a very big gesture for a relationship that is so new.

“You said you also jump in quickly and I— well, it’s what I’m thinking.” Marcus hopes you don’t hate it.

You take the little box from him carefully and untie the carefully done ivory ribbon. The hinge of the box is tight, like it's barely been used, and when it snaps open in your fingers you gasp softly at the shining, shimmering ring inside. An eternity ring of sparkling heart-shaped stones set in white gold reflects the light in your room beautifully. "Marcus?"

“It’s a promise ring.” It seems like a childish thing at first, but he wanted you to know how serious he is. “The prelude for what is to come.”

And just like that, your heart swells for him all over again, and the surety that you made the right choice is ingrained in you. "I'll never take it off."

“If it fits.” He jokes, taking the box from you and plucking the ring out of its velvety crevice. “This is my promise to you, my soulmate.” He whispers as he takes your hand. “One day I will marry you. We will build a life together of mutual respect and love. We will be happy and I will always cherish you.”

"Am I allowed to promise you the same thing?" You watch in awe as the band slips easily onto your finger and you flex your fingers to see if it will shake free. When it doesn't, you beam at him all over again. "To promise to love and cherish you and be your partner while we build this relationship?"

“Absolutely.” He smiles softly and leans in to press his lips to yours gently. “Happy birthday, hummingbird.”

"We should go." Even whispering against his lips, you feel giddy and giggly in the moment. "Before I drag you back into bed and make you even more promises."

“Promises, promises.” He teases. “That is for tonight when we are both a little tipsy, very handsy, and more than a little in love with the idea of being together.”

The drive out to The Statesman Club goes easily and quickly, with Agent Bailey following behind you all the way. From the amount of cars in the parking lot it's obvious that your mother had Marcus bring you to the party after everyone had arrived – or if not then there are a huge amount of people coming tonight. "Seems like an awful lot of fuss," you hum, slipping your hand into Marcus's when he opens your door.

“You’re worth the fuss.” He reminds you, helping you out of the car and he can’t help but admire you. “I forgot to tell you that you look stunning.”

"That's just because I'm happy," you insist, tugging him toward the front of the building. "And because you look absolutely stunning yourself, so I'm just reflecting it back at you."

He chuckles, knowing that he could argue that but it’s your birthday and he can’t argue with the birthday girl. “Remember, you can’t butter me up anymore.” He jokes. “My bag is already at your place; I’m going home with you.”

"What if I'm just telling the truth?" It's like walking on Cloud 9 as you go hand-in-hand with him up to the front door. There's a desk inside with a woman in all black, and she smiles to see you coming – clearly expecting you but too professional to do more than smile.

Marcus gives his name as if he were the one setting the reservation, but they know where to guide you. “Good evening.” She moves from behind the desk to come out beside you. “My name is Ginger and I will be escorting you inside.”

"Thank you, Ginger." It's all very dramatic, you think, but you still follow the woman around a corner and past the main dining room, up a flight of stairs that is dimly lit to put focus on decades and decades of Statesman ads that ends in a set of double doors. This must be their private function room, because the moment she pushes open the doors, all hell breaks loose.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!” Is screamed at you in various pitches and volumes, making you jump slightly even if you had been anticipating it. Marcus laughs, drawing you into the circus of a room as your friends and family press close.

“This is what not overdoing it looks like, huh Mom?” You’re laughing, though, and hug her first out of everybody in the room. You know how impossible it is for her to get to do anything personal already so it’s doubly amazing that she not only put this together but managed to attend.

“Of course it is.” She hugs you fiercely and tears up slightly as she remembers the day you slipped into the world. “It’s small compared to the inauguration party.”

“Which inauguration party?” There were three official ones and then plenty of other unofficial, and you smirk at her even when you pull back. “I can’t believe this place let you book in. It must be crawling with Secret Service.”

“Just a few.” She snorts and shrugs. “I’m the President. It’s time I stop letting the office run my life.”

“Well, thank you.” That resolve won’t last because it can’t, but you’re glad that it is here for tonight.

Your father is next to swoop in for a hug, cooing over his baby being all grown up, and you groan playfully because he gets like this every single time one of you has a birthday. You, Alex, and June all get fussed over equally and it’s actually kind of sweet. Tonight, though, you reach back and take your soulmate’s hand. “You guys remember Marcus?” Of course they do, but you’re still going to be polite about it.

“Sir. Ma’am.” Marcus would offer his hand, but you are currently holding it. “Nice to see you again.”

"Very nice to see you again, Marcus." Having dispensed with Agent Pike except for formalities, the president smiles. "And very punctual. I like that."

“Timing was important tonight.” He agrees, squeezing your hand gently. “The birthday girl needed to be here for the party to really begin.”

"Then let's get this party started." The phrase sounds just as odd and stilted coming out of her mouth as she thought it would, but that doesn't matter. "Make sure you say hi to everyone, Birdie. And try whatever you want to drink. But I think you'll like both cocktails."

Marcus smiles and nods toward the private bar for the party, a fit cowboy with a mustache behind the counter with a toothy smile and a name tag with ‘Jack’ on it. “Shall we go get a drink before you mingle?”

"Absolutely." Whatever your parents have picked out is always good, and you want nothing more than to get the night started.

“What do you want to have?” Marcus asks as he reads the small, personalized cocktail menu that is being served exclusively tonight in addition to the regular drinks.

"The Sour Red sounds good." Cranberry and cherry in a whiskey sour sounds like a great way to start the night.

"It sounds great." A voice from beside you huffs, and you squeal with delight to see your best friend appear out of nowhere next to you. Sydney grins and envelops you into a gigantic hug, as Marcus smirks proudly behind you.

“You look amazing!” The soft, flowing maternity dress is the first of its kind you’ve seen her wear and it looks gorgeous on her, making her look like a work of art. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” She insists, shaking her head at you. “Juan said he’s going to treat you to lunch when he comes back, and he’s so sorry.”

“Absolute sap of a man,” you huff, laughing affectionately. Juan really does treat you like a little sister sometimes and it’s very sweet. “He doesn’t have to do that. But…if he really wants to…” you glance back at Marcus with a giddy smile. “Why don’t we plan a double date?”

“That sounds good.” Marcus nods. “What do you think, Sydney?” He’s willing to do whatever you want and having a night with the other couple would be nice.

“Oh, one hundred percent.” She’s already nodding, clutching her ginger ale in one hand and grinning to see the two of you together like this. “That will be awesome.”

“I’ll order the drinks so you ladies can talk?” Marcus orders, squeezing your hand when you nod and moving up to the bartender.

"I don't know if I said it enough, but you did the amazingly last night. The wedding was perfect." You hug her again, always mindful of your growing goddaughter between you. "I owe you."

“It was all thanks to you.” She reminds you with a soft hug. “Looks like you had a good evening after the wedding party left.”

"Maybe." The meager protest has your cheeks on fire immediately, and you bury your face in your hands. "He's...god, Syd, he's absolutely incredible."

“Really?” She lights up, happy that you are so enthralled with your soulmate. “So you had a really good night?”

"I need you to promise me that you're going to react in the most normal way you've ever reacted to anything in your life," you murmur, intentionally lowering your voice and glancing around furtively. "Most boring reaction ever. Promise?"

“Boring – absolutely.” She nods eagerly, aware you’re about to bust unless you spill whatever secret has you positively glowing. “He’s the best you’ve ever had? Hung like a horse?” She guesses playfully.

"Haven't actually had sex yet, but yes to the second." The smirk that breaks over your face is unapologetic, but you clear your throat, and intentionally reach out to hold your best friend's hand with the ring Marcus gifted you a mere hour ago glinting in the club's lighting. "Most normal and boring you've ever been," you remind her quietly.

Her frown when she feels something makes her look down and then her eyes bug out wide, making her look like a cartoon character for a brief moment. The smallest squeak comes out before she buttons up her lip and her entire body seems to vibrate in energy as her gaze darts back up to you.

"It's a promise ring." As quietly as you can when Sydney is practically buzzing out of control, you're still grinning from ear to ear. "I told you he's incredible."

“I can’t believe— okay, I can.” She huffs quietly and as discreetly as she can, she’s looking at the ring. “Honey, it’s beautiful.” She whispers softly, melting and giving Marcus Pike all the brownie points for romance.

"I don't know when he had time to get it," you admit, trying not to bring too much attention to the piece of jewelry and end up having to explain it to a whole room full of people. "We were together all day."

“He must have bought it the day he went golfing with Michael.” Sydney guessed with small, dreamy sigh. “They were talking about Michael’s buying a wedding day gift for Joyce. He was planning on jewelry.”

“That must have been it.” It’s even dreamier, then, in your mind. Because that truly was the very beginning of things.

“He’s got good taste.” She hums in approval. “This is the real deal.”

"It's the first time in my life that I've really felt like I'm on the same page as my partner," you gush to her, right before Marcus comes over with your drinks.

“One Sour Red for you.” Marcus hands you the drink. “And I ordered the Sweet Delight for me so we can also try it.” He has no problem sharing drinks with you.

The second cocktail on the specialties list was something like a cross between a sweet tea and a mint julep, and since you had fully intended on trying both, he seems to have read your mind. "Perfect." Him, the whole day, tonight, all of it.

“Great.” He holds up the Sweet Delight in a toast. “Happy birthday, hummingbird.” He smiles. “May your thirties be the beginning of the greatest adventures of your life.”

"I have a feeling they will be." You hold up your Sour Red and Sydney adds her ginger ale to the coast, making the three of you a very happy trio.

“Now, I don’t want to monopolize your night.” Marcus insists after taking a drink. “I can hold your purse, but you need to talk to people and if you want me to keep Sydney company, I’m good with that.”

"I'm going to use having to find you as an excuse to get out of saying hello when I start to burn out." It looks like your mother has assembled a few dozen people here tonight and you know you're going to need to take a break from all the chit chat at least a couple of times. "Thank you, love."

“Absolutely.” He smiles at you in reassurance. “Just lift your glass and I’ll come rescue you.”

“Okay.” Leaning up, you leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth and whisper an “I love you” before you scoot away.

Marcus watches you walk away with the look of a man completely besotted with his soulmate. “I love you too.” He murmurs after you.

“That didn’t take long at all.” Sydney grins, sipping her soda like she’s won the lottery.

“Too quick?” He glances back at your best friend and wonders if she worries about you jumping in too fast with him despite being your soulmate.

“Not for her.” She chuckles quietly. “Hell, even Juan and I knew within about two days that he was going to come back East with me after we met. It’s just…it’s nice to see someone moving her speed with her. Supporting her at light speed, ya know?”

“I’m not going to hurt her.” He promises Syd with a solemn vow.

“Oh, I know you’re not.” Her smile turns determined and icy. “Because if you do? Juan knows exactly how to make sure no one ever finds your body. And I think you value life too much to risk the wrath of her best friend and her siblings. Don’t underestimate little Junie.”

Marcus doesn’t scoff, nor does he chuckle and brush it off. He takes a sip of his drink and looks at your best friend squarely. “I won’t, and I never piss off the people who cook food.” He tells her. “They have ingenious ways for disposing of a body.”

“She’s been through a lot of shitty relationships.” Sydney confides. She’s glad to see Marcus taking this talk seriously. Sam had laughed and waved her off. “Listen to her, treat her well, and buy her flowers. That girl loves getting flowers.”

“What are her favorites?” He asks, wanting to make sure you have everything you want out of this relationship.

“Camellias, roses, gerber daisies…” Sydney grins. “I’ll text you a list.”

“Please do.” Marcus can do roses anytime, but he wants to give flowers that let you know that he’s just thinking about you. Ones that put a smile on your face. “And her favorite bath soaps and scents.”

“I’ll have a list of favorites and least favorites ready for you tomorrow,” she promises. “But I have a big one for you, first.”

“What’s that?” He knows Sydney likes him, thinks that he will be good for you, so it’s best that he stay on her good side.

"I've never seen her prouder to be out with a partner than she was with you at that State dinner," Sydney tells him honestly. "She gets skittish about the spotlight, but she collected every single paper that had a picture of the two of you. It's..." she smiles, actually, and her eyes find you in the crowd of family and friends around the room. "It's a kind of confidence that is new for her, but I think it's great."

Marcus follows her gaze and his own face softens and he takes on a slightly sappy smile. “I only want to support her and prop her up.” He promises your best friend earnestly. “Whatever she wants to do.”

"She has the career she wants. And now the right partner." Syd flashes a beaming grin. "Next up is the wedding and kids, Pike. I hope you're ready for a deluge of family fun."

“I’ve always wanted kids.” He admits quietly, pushing one hand into a pocket. Taking another sip and his eyes follow you around the room. “Don’t mind a wedding, but I’m more concerned about the life we build rather than the wedding we have.”

"She says she doesn't care about a wedding. That it's the marriage that counts. And she does mean it." More than anything, Sydney needs Marcus to know that this isn't any shallowness on your part, it's something she's observed. "But I see the way she moons over every single bride that comes through the inn. She wants someone to make a fuss over her without her having to ask for it. It's why she's been sighing over this birthday party like it's unnecessary but has been talking about it nonstop. Because she deserves to feel special, but she feels guilty asking for it."

“I want her to have exactly what she wants.” Marcus smiles at the idea. “The fairytale. The happily ever after.”

Nudging Marcus with her elbow, Sydney's cup of happiness is positively overflowing for you in this moment. "I have a good feeling about this."

“I hope so. Because I’m taking her to meet my folks in a few weeks.” He tells her with a grin.

Syd’s jaw drops on a disbelieving laugh. “You got her to take time off work?”

“Is that some kind of minor miracle?” He asks with a slightly proud smirk if it is. “I asked if she wanted to come and she agreed.”

“There’s nothing minor about it.” She cackles with absolute glee, knowing Juan will be just as thrilled as she is. “She hasn’t taken a vacation day in seven years. Not even for campaign events. You’ve just advised sainthood.”

“Jesus.” He whistles quietly and has a renewed admiration for your drive. “Then I’ll make sure that she relaxes and soaks up the sun while we are gone.” He grins. “Texas is the perfect place for it.”

“Perfect.” Syd grins, and holds up her glass to toast him. “Take care of our girl, Marcus. I know you will.”

“Of course I will.” Marcus watches as you discreetly lift your empty glass. “Op,” he grins back at her and lifts his own glass. “Duty calls.”

It's just a little later, while Marcus is deep into conversation with your father about something or other that you didn't quite catch, you're slowly sipping your second drink when the nearby door opens to admit a new arrival.

Sam Chase walks into the pub, straightening his jacket and smiling a bright smile at anyone who turns his way. Looking over the crowd and finding you as he scans and lifting a hand in a wave before moving towards you.

It's a surprise to see him, even if you did say that you wanted to stay friends, but you walk toward him with square shoulders and sure steps. More than ever, you know you made the right decision, and you're mature enough not to say a thing about it and just let things move forward. "Sam." When he moves forward to hug you, you let him just like you would let any other friend. "What a surprise. Are you feeling better?"

"I am." He wouldn't miss tonight for the world, not when he realized what he needed to do. He accepts the hug and squeezes you gently to him, admiring your perfume. He's missed that smell. "Happy birthday, Birdie." He uses your nickname so rarely, preferring your name, but tonight is about showing growth.

"Thank you." You're glad to not see a gift in his hands. It's almost a reprieve because you had feared he might do something overly intimate as a gesture if he did actually come. "There's some fun cocktails but the bar is open, and lots of food being passed around. I think cake is happening in just a little bit."

"That's good." He pulls back and smiles at you. "It's good to see you, I've missed talking to you."

"It's good to see you, too." Unfortunately you can't say you've missed him as much as he seems to have missed you, but the last few weeks have been so important for you. "I'm glad you came." At least that is true.

"I know you are making the rounds, so I will get a drink." Sam knows that he has to show that he is more accepting of your way of doing things and he takes your hand and squeezes it gently. "I will get a drink and then talk to you later?"

"That sounds like a good plan," you nod, motioning toward the bar. "I know you're not a whiskey guy, but they do have some nice wines stocked tonight. And champagne. Mom insisted."

"I'll see you soon." He promises, sure that the champagne is meant for the toasting of your birthday after the cake. You will be thrilled to drink it because of another celebration as well.

Alex and David are nearby and you gravitate toward them naturally, glad for some supportive faces in the sea of comfortable and uncomfortable acquaintances. Your mother had really gone all-out with the guest list.

Despite his own conversation, Marcus has kept an eye on you, frowning slightly when he sees Sam arrive. He’s not jealous, but he knows that it would be uncomfortable to you since you had broken up.

"Well that looked fun," your brother grumbles, putting an arm around your shoulders lazily when you pace over to him and his boyfriend. "Mm," you roll your eyes discreetly. "So fun. It's my own fault for saying I wanted to stay friends. I just thought...it's a very adult thing to do. And he didn't do anything wrong, really."

“He did everything wrong.” Alex snorts, rolling his eyes at you. “You just were so busy making it work you couldn’t see that.”

"You guys could have said something earlier, ya know." Still, you shrug and take a sip of your drink. "Not that it matters now."

“You were happy…ish.” Alex arches a brow at you. “Tell me you would have listened.” He challenges, knowing how stubborn you are.

"Listen to you?" Rolling your eyes dramatically for show, you wave a hand dismissively. "Of course not. Maybe David, but not you."

Both men laugh and David winks at you. “That’s my girl.” He teases.

"Everything will be fine." You're definitely reassuring yourself, not them, but that's okay. "Eat. Drink. Be merry. That's the name of the game tonight."

“Of course it is.” Alex leans in and presses his lips to your cheek. “Happy birthday sis.” He hums. “You look happy with your soulmate.”

“As happy as you are with yours.” For everything that Alex and David have gone through together, you know the light at the end of their tunnel is going to be so incredibly bright and wonderful. There isn’t a second of doubt in your mind. “He, um…he’s taking me to Texas in a couple of weeks. To meet his family.”

“Really?” Alex is surprised but he’s quickly grinning as he looks around to find Marcus watching you for a moment. Checking in on you from across the room. “Well slap my ass and call me a cowboy.”

"I'll leave that to David," you reply, snorting at the image. "But yes. Really. And I'm excited, so don't ruin it."

“You better wear a cowboy hat when you ride him.” Alex chuckles quietly and winks at you. “They say everything’s bigger in Texas.”

"I swear to god." Groaning with the ire that only a sister can truly feel, you stick your tongue out at your brother and make a face. "I'm walking away now, but you're ridiculous."

“You know I love you!” He cups one hand around his mouth to call out after you, laughing while his soulmate rolls his eyes and mutters under his breath about sibling relationships.

"Sweetheart," your mother grabs you in passing, seeing that you're headed for Marcus and not wanting to delay you too long. "Cake soon?"

"Sure, Mom." Pausing long enough to squeeze her hand, you nod to indicate you're willing to just go with the flow. The night will last however long it lasts and you're grateful for every second you get to spend with your friends. Thankfully, it seems like cake cutting won't be the very end of the night.

“How is my pretty party girl?” Marcus asks as you draw closer, pulling you to his side and swapping his full drink with your empty one. “You should try this Statesman Blackberry Reserve.” He urges you. “It’s probably the smoothest whiskey I’ve ever had in my life.”

"You trying to get me drunk, Pike?" You tease, accepting the glass and trying a sip – which earns a happy moan from you. "You're already coming home with me. You have stuff at my place."

“But you’re cute when you’re relaxed.” He jokes, smirking slightly considering that you’ve already had a conversation about drunk sex and somnophilia so you are both on the same page about what’s acceptable.

"You're always cute." Relaxed is a good word. You aren't drunk at all. Not even tipsy. But you are definitely relaxed. "Mom's going to have the cake brought out soon. Brace yourself for a deeply embarrassing speech of some kind."

Laughing quietly, he nods. “Of course. Would it not be a family birthday party if there wasn’t an embarrassing speech?”

"In this family?" You snort, barely managing to smother the sound as your mother's voice comes over a microphone so that the whole room can hear her. "Never. But that's my cue."

“Go knock them dead, hummingbird.” He whispers in encouragement and takes your drink from your hand so you can walk up beside her. It’s your night, your time to shine.

As Sydney has pointed out, the spotlight is not necessarily where you thrive. You do step up next to your mother, though, and wave awkwardly with a dopey smile on your face as she talks. The predicted speech is just as embarrassing as you thought it would be, but it’s easier to smile knowing Marcus is out there watching just a few feet away.

Now is the time. Sam watches as you demure to the crowd and duck your head in embarrassment as your mother finishes up your happy birthday speech. He straightens his tie and reaches into his pocket to pull out your gift before he edges towards the front of the room where you and your mother are standing.

Honestly if you had noticed, you might have said something. Or you might have at least looked at him questioningly. But you’re too busy avoiding meeting anyone’s eyes while people applaud a speech about you to realize that Sam has walked right up to where you and your mother are standing.

His entire relationship with you, he had watched you secretly moon over ‘grand gestures’. Sniffling during Hallmark moves or rom coms, smiling like a crazy woman when a proposal happens at your inn. This will be perfect. Your mother arches a brow when he asks for the microphone, but she hands it over anyway. “Good evening everyone, Birdie…” he begins, having carefully written out and rehearsed this speech several times. Preparing for it just as studiously as he would have a political debate.

“Sam…?” Anxiety rises like bile in the back of your throat, almost making you choke on the confusion. What in the hell?

Marcus frowns at the way that Sam turns and kneels in front of you. A collective gasp coming from the crowd pierces his heart and it’s compounded by the way you cover your mouth. Looking just like a scene from a romantic film. His gut churns and confusion and doubt makes the blood start pounding in his ears.

“Get up!” As soon as you can gather your own thoughts to get beyond shock and utter horror, you lurch forward to grab Sam and yank him up off his one stupid knee. “What the hell are you doing?” You hiss, well aware that all eyes are on you but having rocketed past giving a shit out of pure anger.

“I’m making up for my lack of spontaneity, giving you the grand gesture.” Sam smiles proudly and opens the box to show you the elaborate diamond ring that he had bought for you. “I love you, and I want to show you that I am here. You are more important than anything else.”

“Don’t do this.” Even if your voice is low, the shaking of your head is universal, and the few gasps over the opening of the jewelry box are minimally muffled when you reach out and snap the little box closed again immediately. “We broke up. Walk away and return the ring.” The urge to cry and flee is almost overwhelming but you have to make him stop.

“We had a fight, a foolish one.” Sam tells you beseechingly. “One I take complete blame for. But we are so good together. Don’t throw it away because I was too blinded by my pride.”

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” you tell him flatly, although you do feel bad that you clearly didn’t articulate well enough that the relationship is over and has been for two weeks now. “Please just walk away? I’m not taking you back. Tonight or ever, do you understand?” Even with your heart in your stomach, lurching there like a stone in acid, you can’t bring yourself to be cruel. You’re just desperate to be clear and get it through his head.

Sam frowns and looks around at the people who have started to go from excited to embarrassed for him. “Why?” He asks quietly. “This is what we talked about. What you wanted to plan for? Now you say no?”

“Plans changed. Maybe I changed, I don’t know.” You didn’t. And you know you didn’t. But it seems kinder to say that than to point out that your eyes are opened to how imbalanced your relationship was. “I found my person, Sam. I’m sorry that it isn’t you, but please don’t make this worse than it already is.”

“You’re really going to say no?” Sam looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. “In front of all these people?” The microphone has been forgotten at his side, the conversation just between the two of you and he glances over to see Marcus Pike walking away in the crowd.

“I don’t even understand why you thought it was okay to ask.” It’s completely ruined the night rather than just being embarrassing, but one thing is obvious: Sam has turned out to be one of those men who won’t back down at the very worst of times. “No. Absolutely not. I’m with someone else and I love him. End of story.” Like the punctuation that ends a sentence, you hold up your hand to show him the ring Marcus put there just hours ago. “You should leave, Sam.”

He feels like he’s going to be sick. Unable to breathe in that second where a ring is produced and he knows if he doesn’t escape, find air, he might have a heart attack or something. It’s happening again. This time it’s even worse than before because it’s his soulmate. Marcus turns and pushes through the crowd. Hauling ass for the nearest exit as discreetly as he can while everyone else watches the romantic gesture ahead of them. Unable to hear anything but the tattoo of his heart beating out of his chest as he disappears out of the bar.

He doesn’t hear the next round of gasps inside as your birthday has turned into a farce. He doesn’t see Sam rage or crumble. He doesn’t stand and bear witness to you declaring your love for your soulmate in front of dozens of people. All he knows is that he has to get away, but he’s barely at the bottom of the stairs when you go barreling after him. “Marcus!” Thank god June saw him moving blindly through the crowd, she had pointed you in the right direction. “Marcus!”

It’s still crisp and cool when the sun goes down, hitting the doors and gasping like a drowning man when the frosty air hits him and after two gulps, he’s lurching for the bushes. He’s not so drunk he’s puking, he’s so emotional he can’t keep down the drinks and appetizers curdling on his stomach.

“Marcus, wait!” You have no idea what set of doors this is, but you saw him go through it, so you go too, almost twisting your ankle in the heels you’re wearing in the process. “Oh my god.” The second you see him, you’re moving again, reaching for his bent frame and trying to soothe him somehow. The best you can think of is cooing his name and rubbing your hand over his broad back gently.

Agent Bailey is hot on your heels, bursting through the door seconds later and on high alert. “I’m fine—” Marcus grunts, twisting away from you as he continues to empty his stomach. “’m fine.” He coughs and retches one more time before he can catch his breath. “Go back— I—I—” he pants out.

“You’re not fine.” In the three seconds you can think straight, you turn around to find Agent Bailey a few feet away. “Can you find us some water?” You ask her, not sure what’s caused Marcus to be so sick but sure that he’s going to feel worse if he can’t rinse his mouth.

It’s obvious that she’s uncomfortable leaving you, but after a second, she’s nodding and stepping away while speaking into her earpiece.

“It’s okay, baby…” Whether or not that’s true is yet to be determined, but Marcus is obviously in distress and you’re just trying to soothe him as best you can. “Was it something you drank? Or—or ate?” Or was it my ex-boyfriend ruining the entire fucking night for literally everyone?

Marcus closes his eyes, swallowing down another wave of bile and shakes his head. “No— I—” he can’t even articulate the rambling thoughts in his head right now. He feels like he’s lost again and yet you are standing in front of him. Are you here to give him the ring back?

“It’s okay, don’t talk until you’re ready.” While you still have one hand moving on his back, you just try to keep calm and hopefully help him calm down in the process. “Agent Bailey’s finding you some water and we can sit out here for as long as you need, okay?”

“Why—” he swallows and closes his eyes. “Why are you out here?” His voice is steadier, gaining control over his emotions again. “Your party is inside.”

"You are out here." The question makes no sense to you and you're probably looking at him like he has three heads, but at least that's an honest reaction. "Fuck the party. You're more important."

“No, I’m not.” Marcus opens his eyes, looking up at the stars and he has to know. “Did you say yes?”

A single beat of confusion bleeds away to absolutely seething disbelief and your hand stops moving on his back even though you don't step away. "How can you even think I—" And all at once it melts away as recognition dawns and the despair on his face becomes clear. Teresa. Teresa is why he's asking. Why he's afraid and why he's so anxious that he's throwing up in the bushes behind the building. "Marcus, no. Of course not. I didn't even let him ask the damn question. He's a self-centered moron who didn't take being broken up with well, and more importantly there is the fact that I love you."

“You were with him for a year.” Marcus reminds you, wanting so badly to believe you and yet it’s still just beyond his grasp.

"Lots of people are in relationships for longer than they should be," you reason, trying to keep his eyes even with the heartbreak that is obvious in them. "I love you, Marcus Pike. You're my soulmate, and I would trade every single second that I spent with Sam in a heartbeat if it meant getting to change all those memories to ones that include you."

“I’m sorry.” The apology is automatic, closing his eyes again and biting his lip. “This is— I shouldn’t have come out here. I shouldn’t have left your party.”

"You needed air, and you needed to clear your head." If you turn things around and put yourself in his shoes? You'd be losing it in the bushes, too. Thankfully, that is when Agent Bailey appears with a sealed bottle of water and she hands it off to you silently. "I'm sorry I ever said I wanted to stay friends with that man. Hopefully the fact that Secret Service escorted him off the grounds will get it through his head." Gently, though, you tip your head at Marcus and offer him a smile. "If not, I'm pretty sure that showing him your promise ring and loudly declaring how much I love you to about sixty people has probably done it."

“You did?” Marcus frowns slightly, confused as to when you managed to do that before rushing after him.

"I did." You nod slightly, one hand seeking his cheek to try to offer some kind of comforting touch. "And then I realized you weren't standing next to Sydney anymore, and I bolted after you."

“I—" he leans into the touch more than he realizes. “I can’t believe you did that.” He huffs softly.

"You said I could shout it from the rooftops." The reminder comes with a soft smile, as you see Marcus finally start to calm down a little and grapple with reality. "So I did."

“You have to be pretty pissed off at me.” He rationalizes. “All that talk and I’m puking my guts out when someone proposes to you on your birthday. In front of all your friends and family.”

"Baby, if one of your exes had shown up to your party and proposed, I assure you I also would have lost my shit. If not my dinner." Holding up the water bottle, you don't step away from him for a second. "We can stay out here as long as you need to, we can go back in, or we can go home. Whatever you need."

“You need to go back in.” Marcus tells you quietly. “You can’t just leave. All of those people are here for you.”

"I'm not leaving you." In the long run or the short, that sentence is the same.

“I’m not saying you leave me.” He looks at you again and reaches for the hand that isn’t on his back. “Let’s go back inside.”

"We'll sit and sip some water, and if your stomach is still turning we don't have to eat anything else." There is a more than minor chance that people will come up to you both for the rest of the night to want to talk about your soulmate status, but that can't be avoided.

He sighs softly. “You know why I was throwing up.” He challenges softly. “I was having a moment of extreme anxiety.”

"That doesn't mean you'll want to eat anything else, or that your stomach isn't still unsettled." Thankfully he wasn't panicked enough to drop your clutch, so he still has it in one hand and you take it from him carefully. "Here. I have mints and Tums stashed in here. Do you want one, the other, or both?"

He frowns slightly, unused to being fussed over unless it was his mother. “Both.” He decides. “I think.”

"We can do that." Mint Tums and Altoids are produced from your purse without further ceremony, and you wait until he steadies himself and chews his mints before you open your arms to offer him a hug.

He stares at you for a moment before he accepts the hug and pulls you close. “Are you okay, hummingbird?”

"I'm pissed at that idiot for upsetting you, but I'm okay." If he had said you should just go home, you would have gone with him in a heartbeat. Going back into that party sounds daunting at the very least. "What a fucking idiot. I'm just grateful I managed to catch you before you got too far."

“I just needed some air.” Marcus doesn’t know if he would have left, he hadn’t really been thinking— just reacting.

"If you get overwhelmed or anxious again, do you promise to tell me?" He takes your hand and a step or two toward the door at your side, but that doesn't mean he's totally ready to go in.

“I just—” he knows he owes you an explanation. “It felt like history was repeating itself. This time I was getting a front row seat.” He frowns slightly and looks down at the ring on your finger. “And the only thing that I could think of was how much worse it was because it was my soulmate.”

"You're absolutely entitled to have an anxious reaction to what just happened." With his hand in yours, you give it a squeeze and soothe your other hand over his arm. "Is there something I can do to reassure you? Or is this something that's just going to take time to work through?"

“It was just a flash in the pan thing.” Marcus assures you. “But I’ll talk to my therapist about it. So it doesn’t work into something between us.”

"Okay." He's working on himself, and honestly that might be one of the sexiest things about him. For now, though, you squeeze his hand again and head back into the building. "But if there is something I can do, or if I do something that I don't realize makes you anxious, will you tell me? I never want to make our time together stressful or triggering."

“I promise I will let you know.” He is thankful you understand why he freaked out, instead of just assuming he didn’t trust you. “I’m sorry that your birthday was…interrupted.”

"That is absolutely not your fault." It isn't. At all. And you would hate for him to feel that any of the blame is on his shoulders when it lies squarely with Sam. "Just...people are going to have questions. I did flash the ring, so we're going to have a lot of curiosity."

“I’m assuming this wasn’t the way you wanted to announce your soulmate status?” He asks wryly. “Why did Sam think he could win you over by proposing?”

"I think he thought that if he went for the grand gesture, I would just crumble." You sigh as you walk together, climbing the stairs slowly. "If not for you, I might have. I might have settled, instead of realizing that real love is something much more spectacular. Something worth holding out for."

“I’m glad you didn’t settle.” Marcus admits, looking over at you. “That wouldn’t be fair to you. Forget about me, it wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” At the top of the stairs you kiss his cheek and hold his hand a little tighter. “Now that I’ve met you, I could never forget about you.”

It’s a little surreal to be a priority, making Marcus flush a little more than he probably would, given that he had just doubted you and been proven spectacularly wrong. He’ll definitely call his therapist on Monday.

“Are you ready?” The doors are right in front of you, but you still check in with him first. “If you’re not, it’s okay. I’ll say good night and we’ll go home. Not questions asked.”

“No, I’m not going to ruin the rest of your night.” He shakes his head. “Let’s get a fresh drink.”

Marcus's stubbornness isn't something you want to start an argument about, but after tonight you're definitely going to take tomorrow very easy. "It's not the night any of us had planned, that's for damn sure."

“I would hope not.” He snorts and his hand squeezes yours again, now feeling guilty about leaving you while you dealt with Sam. “I’m sorry for not being there for you.”

"You don't need to be, but I appreciate that. He took all of us off guard." With a confirming nod from Marcus, you push the door to the event hall open and come face to face with a room full of guests who are all a flutter. Your mother still has the microphone in her hand but it seems to be off, and she makes her way toward you immediately with a deep frown etched in her features.

“Birdie.” She is almost sighing in relief when she spots you again. “You ran off, almost losing your detail.” She scolds quietly before she softens. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

"I needed some air." The gentle lie covers the fact that you actually went running after Marcus, but no one can blame you for having a big reaction to what happened. "That was insane."

The president gives a very unpresidential snort. “You think?” She huffs. “I cannot believe that man thought proposing after you broke up was a good idea. I mean, I know he had mentioned something when you were still together, but-“ Realizing who she is saying this in front of, she snaps her jaw closed and sends Marcus a polite smile. “Thank you for being with her.”

"It's not exactly how I was going to tell you about the promise ring," you admit, leaning in to Marcus's side when he offers your mother an agreeing nod. As though to say 'of course' without letting her know that it was actually you who was there for him.

“You seem overjoyed to wear it.” She observes, smiling slightly at the way you are leaning into the man beside you. Drawing comfort and offering it at the same time.

"I am." Without hesitation, and with great pride, in fact. "And I apologize in advance, but I'm going to miss a family dinner in a few weeks. Marcus is bringing me to Texas to meet his family."

“Really?” Her eyes widen slightly and shift over to Marcus as she reappraises him through a new lens. This has just change from potential to reality. “Well.” She smiles. “I am sure that they will love you.”

“We’ll make sure all the plans are approved by Agent Bailey, but…” Glancing up at Marcus beside you, your stomach flips and your hearts pounds. As off kilter as tonight has gone, he’s still standing here beside you. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t take your detail out to Texas.” Your mother considers, looking at Marcus to see what he thinks. “After all, you will be traveling with a federal agent.” She taps the microphone. “Would be bring your weapon and credential when you fly?” She asks him. Marcus nods immediately. “I always bring them.” He explains. “In case I get called out for a case. I don’t have to fly back to D.C.”

“We’ll be near the Dallas field office anyway,” you offer, having cruised around Marcus’s hometown on Google maps with him over a phone call when he was in London and noting the office as you went.

Your mother glances over at Agent Bailey and within seconds, the agent is joining the three of you. “What do you think, Agent Bailey?” She asks, wanting her professional opinion before she makes her decision.

“I would feel more comfortable if it was me, Ma’am.” Agent Bailey shifts in place, as if apologizing to you with her body language. “I’ll station at the field office and be on call. It’s a middle ground, if you will.”

“Birdie?” Your mother glances over at you to see what you think. “How does that sound?”

“That’s fine with me as long as long as it’s okay with Marcus.” You nod, appreciating your agent’s candor. “I trust Agent Bailey more than some strangers.”

“Whatever is needed for Birdie’s safety.” Marcus agrees. “Although, there’s plenty of room for you at the compound.” He tells Agent Bailey. “There’s no need for you to stay in Dallas. Please. Come stay with us.”

“We’ll coordinate with the Dallas office and make arrangements official.” Agent Bailey assures your small group. “Now…I believe there is a cake to be cut, ma’am?”

“Oh shit.” Marcus’s eyes widen when he realizes that you haven’t even had your cake. “Yeah, sweetheart, you need to have your birthday cake.”

“We got a little distracted from the point of the night, I think.” Still placing the blame for that squarely on one person’s shoulders, you offer your mother a smile anyway. “What do you say we get this party back on track?”

“Are you sure?” She glances back and forth between you and Marcus. “There will be a lot of questions.”

“I know there will be.” And you swallow, wondering if it will overwhelm Marcus and make him second guess choosing you. “But I would rather get ahead of the rumor mill.”

“Then perhaps you should announce your soulmate status.” She offers quietly. “People heard you talk about finding happiness, but they don’t know why you’ve moved on so quickly.”

“It shouldn’t matter,” you remind her, just as quietly but feeling a bit childish. That’s what freedom of affection is about. Your choice. “But I will anyway. Because I’m proud of him.”

“What you decide to do is up to you.” She agrees. “I should have had security stop Congressman Chase at the door.”

“Hindsight, Mom.” The best you can do is shrug. “I shouldn’t have said I wanted to stay friends. It’s done now.”

“Yes…” she huffs slightly, knowing that her opinion of the congressman just dropped considerably after his display tonight.

“Why don’t you give me that,” you motion to the microphone in her hand. “And I’ll talk…and you get the cake?”

“That is your decision, Birdie.” She hands you the microphone and Marcus frowns. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to do anything.”

“I have to say something.” Taking the microphone from her, you offer Marcus a lopsided smile before you click on the power button. “Are you ready for this?”

“Whenever you are.” It’s still a theory in his mind, not tangible. You don’t have to declare this—him— it’s enough that you want to be with him.

“I love you.” It’s just a soft hum, but you squeeze his hand before you click the microphone on and raise it to your mouth. “I hope everyone enjoyed the floor show,” you joke, bringing people’s attention back to the front of the room.

Marcus would have let go of your hand, to give you the spotlight alone, but you don’t let go. Making him give a soft smile as everyone looks at you and consequentially, him.

"I didn't think it was going to be necessary to make an announcement out of this, but clearly the fact didn't get through some people's heads." Still trying for the joke, you take a look around the room. Family, friends, co-workers and family friends all surround you with attentive expressions. "It's been a little over a month now, since I met Marcus Pike." Squeezing his hand gently, you smile at the man beside you and exhale nervously. Stage fright be damned. He is more important than nerves. "And it gave me a lot to think about. How happy I was with the current state of my life and my relationship, or how I imaged my future. It became fairly clear to me that I didn't want to envision any future for myself that didn't have Marcus playing a starring role. Which makes sense..." Breathe. You can do it. Just breathe. "Considering he's my soulmate."

Marcus gives a small wave and a somewhat lopsided grin that he is completely unaware of how charming it is. Listening to the murmurs and gasps of surprise as he knows that he’s under increased scrutiny.

"I know I've always been outspoken about freedom of affection." There are more murmurs – agreement from your loved ones. "And this is what I'm choosing. I am choosing to love my soulmate, and to start building a future with him. Apparently that was a difficult reality for my ex-boyfriend to swallow, but I hope you'll all join me in having a slice of birthday cake and celebrating love and happiness until they kick us out of this place."

Marcus could not have said it better himself, so he doesn’t speak. He just lifts your joined hands and kisses the back of yours gently.

Clicking off the microphone again, you hand it off to one of the uniformed wait staff and turn around to find a rolling table with a sizeable two-tier cake on it. Your father is there with a smile on his face and the knife ready for you to pick up. One ceremonial cut into the cake gets a cheer from the crowd and then it's Alex's voice that starts everyone singing Happy Birthday just as loudly as possible.

Marcus is happy that the celebration has turned back towards you and not the proposal. Singing along with the chorus of the song, he grins when you duck your head slightly in embarrassment.

"Thank god that's over," you huff with a laugh, as the waiter rolls the cake away to slice it properly and people start to mill about again instead of just staring at you. Or worse, singing at you. There's a dab of frosting on your finger and you suck it into your mouth with curiosity before perking up immediately. "Mm, cream cheese frosting!"

“Cream cheese frosting is your favorite?” He asks curiously, smiling at your obvious delight.

"Cake is my favorite." The grin on your face doesn't even have a hint of irony to it. "But if you made me choose? Red velvet with cream cheese frosting is pretty much the top of the list."

“As it should be.” Marcus snorts and shoots you a grin. “But, have you ever had a chilled, key lime cake with cream cheese frosting on a hot Texas day?”

"Please tell me that's something your family does," you groan happily. "Because that sounds amazing."

“My aunt makes one every time I come home.” He promises. “I’ve already gotten the text from her asking if I would want her to make one. I always say yes, but she still asks.”

"Your aunt is now at the very top of my favorite people list." The grin on your face comes with burning cheeks, and you lean into Marcus's side with a sigh. "After you, of course."

“Until you taste my mom’s strawberry daiquiri pie.” He teases, leaning in and kissing your nose.

"Are we going to eat our way through this visit? Because I am completely ready for that." The small reprieve you've been given from the curiosity of your friends and family has apparently ended, and the first waiter with a tray of plates of cake comes out and Malachi saunters up to grab a slice right after you.

“You’ll work it off.” He promises with a grin at the concierge as he smirks with the cake in his hand. “Malachi, how are you this evening?” He asks with a slight chuckle. “A little drama filled, right?”

“More than a little.” Malachi deftly balances a small dessert plan with a glass of champagne in one hand, but his other reaches out to Marcus. “I guess we’ll be seeing you more around the inn?”

Marcus shakes the man’s hand, sensing that despite his aloof mannerisms, he cares deeply about you and the inn. “I hope that’s alright?”

"If she's happy, I'm happy." The younger man chuckles fondly. "Everybody wants their boss in a good mood, right?"

“Absolutely.” Marcus agrees with a grin. “I will try to stay out of your way and keep her in a good mood, what do you say?”

"Sounds like a very good plan." Malachi's eyes spell mischief, just like always, but he cares about you far too much to pretend he isn't genuinely over the moon for you to have finally found the right person to be with.

You huff playfully and Marcus turns his grin towards you. “I have to promise not to distract you from work too much.” He reminds you. “You have an inn to run.”

"Mal says he's happy now," you tease." But he's going to have to run the place for me while we're in Texas. That'll teach him."

“A lover’s getaway already?” His brow shoots up and his lips curl in the same direction. “And here I was thinking that you were taking this slow.”

"Family visit." Though it's technically a correction, it's only a small one. If anything, meeting your soulmate's family is even more important than just a little getaway. "We'll go over everything and I know you'll be just fine. But...yes. A getaway."

“Good.” Malachi sniffs. “You deserve to go somewhere other than Maryland.”

There are other people milling around, wanting to give their best wishes or simply curious to get a closer look at Marcus, and Malachi slips back off into the crowd with a wink and a smile. If this is the rest of the party, you reflect with a glance up at Marcus as you fork up a first bite of cake, that won't be so bad at all.

There are so many people who care about you. Some are just curious and he’s sure that there will be gossip reported on the night, but most everyone who comes up to you genuinely cares. He smiles and shakes hands. Listening to how they know you and saves the information for the next time he sees them. Never leaving your side until he needs to refresh your drink.

By the time the end of the night arrives, you're so grateful to slip away. The fact that you and Marcus have planned a lazy day for tomorrow is deeply necessary. Switching to nonalcoholic drinks after the toast with your cake means neither of you is drunk but you're definitely still tangled around each other after loading the trunk of Marcus's car with various boxes and bags (even though you insisted on no gifts). Good nights are said and Agent Bailey climbs into her car to follow you back to the inn as you and Marcus sigh at finally being alone again in his car.

“I don’t know if that’s the best possible outcome for your birthday, or the worst.” Marcus chuckles, reaching for your hand once he buckled his seatbelt. “Opinions, comments, concerns?”

"Aside from the bit in the middle that I would prefer to never think about again?" You glance up at him beside you and offer him a smile. "Everything else was perfect."

“He was desperate.” Marcus squeezes your hand. “I know why. You are amazing and he’s lost you.” He wonders what he would have done if you had chosen him, if it had been him in Sam’s shoes. He’s let everyone else go, but it’s different now. You are his soulmate.

“Nobody ever treated me like I was ‘amazing’ ,” you tell him honestly, sitting back in your seat when he starts his car up. “Or maybe that’s part of what being a soulmate is. A shared definition of how to treat someone well.”

He doesn’t like the idea that no one has treated you like you deserve, frowning slightly. “Well, the moment I don’t, you just correct me.”

“Same goes for you, you know.” Your hand works its way into his over the gear shift to stay tangled in him even while he drives.

“I don’t think you will be a problem, sweetheart.” He smiles as he glances over at you and then back at the road to the rearview mirror. “Agent Bailey staying again? Or is someone else taking over?”

"Agent Sisson should be at the inn when we get there." His grace and understanding in regards to your security detail is deeply appreciated. You really can't say how much. "It was nice of you to offer for her to stay on the compound when we go see your parents."

“There’s always people coming and going, family and friends. It will make her feel better and maybe she will enjoy herself too.” Marcus rationalizes. “There’s plenty of room. No need for a boring hotel.”

"It will be a nice change," you agree. The darkened streets of Washington DC are lit to blazing with artificial light but it's still fairly quiet for a Saturday night. "I feel bad that there aren't more places for her to hang out at my apartment."

“I would offer my apartment, the second bedroom is my office and across the entire living room from my bedroom.” Marcus chuckles.

"We'll have to split the difference sometimes. Use both places." Tilting your head, you flash him a cheeky grin as he drives. "Until we start building, of course."

“Honestly, whatever is easier for you.” Marcus isn’t about to sleep without you if he can manage it. “I do not mind your apartment at all.”

"We'll see what works best for us. I'm sure there will be days when it will be easier for you to be closer to the office or days when I need to be close to the inn just in case." His flexibility is such a boon, and you squeeze his hand gently. "As long as I get to sleep next to you, we'll make it work."

“That was my thoughts exactly.” Marcus chuckles quietly, amazed at how the two of you just fit together. He had always heard of it, been envious of it on a subconscious level, but now he’s basking in this newfound joy.

"I hope you already told your parents you're bringing me," you laugh softly. "Because I told a lot of people tonight."

“I’m sure there will be something about in a gossip column tomorrow.” He has accepted that, has no issue with it as long as he gets to have you. It’s a requirement of it, to be public. He’s got nothing to hide anyway. He’s used to it from his own childhood. “I’ve told them.” He promises.

“I don’t think you’ve ever told me what your Dad does.” It’s an open question but a good one, especially where it keeps your mind from idling on the fact that at this time last night, Marcus was fingering you in your bathtub and promising to do more tonight.

His brow shoots up and he almost laughs, but you are asking the question seriously. “Oh, he’s retired now.” Marcus promises, grinning slightly.

“Oh?” That’s surprising, though you’re not sure why. Maybe just because you hadn’t been expecting it. “Is he much older than your mother? Or…I don’t know…military? They retire early sometimes, don’t they?”

He does chuckle now and he stops at the red light. “Birdie, my dad is Matthew Pike.” He wonders if you might not have heard of him during his active years in the MLB. “Nicknamed Stryker for the number of strikeouts he would average throwing a game.”

The silence in the car is deafening for the few seconds it takes your mind to catch up with what he’s saying and for your jaw to come up off the floor, but when you can finally think again the first thing out of your mouth is: “No fucking way!”

Marcus belly laughs this time, squeezing your hand and glancing over at you before the light changes and he starts to drive again. “Fucking way.” He promises.

“Wait…” Rolling back through all of the assorted baseball facts in your mind, you somehow manage to come up with just a few Matthew Pike tidbits and get excited all over again. “So you’re not originally from Texas then!” You exclaim, fully shifting into fan girl mode. “He was playing for the Cardinals when you were born, wasn’t he?”

“Cardinals and then he was with Montreal, the Yankees, then Texas.” Marcus nods, grinning at the sheer happiness in your voice.

“I always thought it would have been so cool to live all over like that when I was a kid.” At the time it had never occurred to you that things like having Sydney come with you would have been impossible, it just sounded neat. “That’s the absolute coolest bomb you ever could have dropped on me and I’m so jealous.”

Marcus laughs. “Well, after dad retired, he bought the land out in Texas – no, he already started buying it during his time with Texas – and we made it the ‘Pike compound’.” He snorts. “Kind of like the Kennedy Compound, but not on Cape Cod.”

“There is no room for a family compound in Philly.” The very idea of it makes you laugh, and you grin at him. “Well now I extra can’t wait to meet your parents.”

“Oh….its tradition, by the way.” Marcus tosses you a smirk. “We play at least one game of baseball when we are home.”

“No fucking way.” This time there is awe in your voice and your eyes are wide with giddy excitement. “You have the absolute coolest family, you know that, right?”

“You say that now.” He snorts, rolling his eyes. “You’ve never heard the trash talking the Pike family doles out when playing sports.”

“Don’t care,” you tell him with confidence. “It’s still awesome. Your family is awesome.”

“I think so.” He agrees, happy that his family tradition doesn’t seem weird or lame to you. It had started as a way for the cousins and brothers and sisters to play baseball with the famous MLB star and turned into a tradition that everyone could enjoy, even if they were watching from the seats.

“It’s going to be a blast.” The absolute confidence in your voice won’t hear of anything different. Texas is going to be a fantastic trip.

“They are going to love you.” He promises with a small laugh. “Expect a million questions though.”

“I’m fine with that,” you promise him steadily. “As long as your dad doesn’t mind me fangirling just a tiny bit.”

He smirks. “There’s been a change in his retirement, by the way.” He tells you. “He’s been signed to be the pitching coach for the Rangers. So you can pick his brain.”

“Ok, so fangirling a lot.” Both of you laugh, enjoying the easiness and eagerness of it.

“At least you know you won’t be roped into awkward conversations. You just mention something about baseball and it will become a family topic quick.” Marcus warns.

“Got it.” You hum. He takes the exit for Alexandria and you look over at his profile. “Speaking of which? You’re now invited to family dinners.”

“I am?” Marcus lifts a brow in surprise. “When did that happen?”

“Right before we left the party.” A bit of your lip comes with hoping he doesn’t feel intimidated by where those dinners are. “Mom said there’s no pressure, but you’re welcome.”

“I would be honored to attended….when I can.” Even though it’s an extreme honor, he still had commitments to his job that sometimes cannot be shifted. “I will promise that I’ll come to as many as I can.”

“Work always comes first.” Everyone in your family can understand and agree to that, which is something that helps you breathe more deeply. “David has a standing invitation, too. But his boss has him working Friday nights right now.”

“That’s not fun.” Marcus sends you a small smile. “I better brush up on my small talk.”

“Brush up on American history.” That’s your best advice, but you’re ecstatic he even wants to think about it. “The more obscure the better. When we run out of things to talk about, Mom starts quizzing us on the weird stuff.”

“Play online Jeopardy trivia.” Marcus snorts. “Got it.”

“You’ll knock ‘em dead, baby,” you hum with a laugh.

“You laugh, but mom love Jeopardy.” He huffs playfully. “She wanted to go on the celebrity edition when dad was invited. She was pissed that he turned it down.”

“Our mothers will have at least one thing to bond over, then.” The idea is sweet, actually, and you grin. “If we ever lose them, we’ll find them yelling answers at Jeopardy together.”

“I will be very intrigued to find out how they like each other.” Marcus admits as he turns into the driveway for the inn. “I think we will be in trouble.”

“Maybe.” It makes you smile, though, and you breathe a sigh of relief to be home again. “But I think it will be a good kind of trouble.”

The plans for the super special birthday sex had been unanimously voted against once you were back at the inn. Marcus wouldn’t have said a word, but you were the one to broach the subject and admitted that you just wanted to fall asleep in his arms, emotionally drained from the tumultuous events of the evening. He feels guilty, he really does, but he had also been relieved, although stirring now with you still asleep is a moment he can treasure.

Yesterday you had been the one to watch him fondly, tracing the sunlight on his features and letting you savor the sight of him beside you. The morning after your birthday is the opposite. Marcus watches you dream as the sun rises higher overhead. If you knew, you might be slightly embarrassed about the spot of drool on your pillow, but as it is you’re having dreams far too wonderful to care.

You sleep with your mouth open and it’s cute. Marcus smiles as he brushes his fingers over your skin gently, listening to soft sigh that comes from you as you curl further into him.

In your dreams, he’s already curled around you. Which probably accounts for the soft moan you breathe deep inside your sleep.

“Sweetheart?” Marcus nuzzles his nose against your cheek and smiles when your brow furrows gently.

The sound of his voice in the waking world pulls you out of it, and even though you hum softly in protest of waking up, you shift to snuggle closer to him in bed.

He hums softly, running his hand up and down your back. “You can still sleep, I just want to know if I can touch you.”

“Mmmmm.” Stretching like a contented kitten, you manage to crack one eye open and smile at him sleepily. “I wanna be awake for that, though.”

“You could always wake up to it.” He chuckles and leans in to steal a kiss.

The warm blanket of his affection is far more powerful than the comforter covering both of you, and you’re simultaneously annoyed that he’ll have to strip you out of your nightgown and lazily eager to see if he just doesn’t bother. Moaning softly against his lips, you shift ever closer. “I’m yours.”

You are his. His heart stutters and he hums against your lips. Moving the kiss down your jaw, he shuffles his hips down to start sliding down under the sheets.

There’s a surreal quality to it, like you’re still dreaming even when you know you aren’t. But the morning glow settling over everything is so much better than your dreams had been. It’s like you’re floating on a cloud, and the only thing anchoring you to the ground or any kind of reality is just Marcus.

Your nightgown is between you, but he doesn’t view it as hinderance. Too busy nuzzling you through it as he kisses down your chest and pulls down the collar of the gown over one breast.

The bowing arch of your back into his touch is so natural that you barely notice that you’re chasing his mouth rather than his hands. It’s just your body singing insistently for more when he’s barely getting started.

You respond so easily to him, your warm skin heating up even more as he mouths and kisses the skin around your breast until he finally latches on to your nipple lazily, grabbing against your sweet smelling skin. Your breathy sigh is pitched up, and the leisurely curl of your arms around his shoulders holds him in close to you to encourage him to explore any and all parts of you. Sensitive nipples have always been a boon as far as arousal goes, but Marcus’s magic tongue is nothing to discount.

Listening to your sweet sighs is something he can do forever. Licking and sucking gently, combined with the a sometimes sharp nip of his teeth, builds a tension that vibrates beneath the surface of your body.

Your fingers comb through his hair as you drift on a cloud that keeps you somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Every atom in your body is fully aware and aroused but the sweet dream of this morning makes it still feel like a dream. Holding him close to your chest as he explores to his heart’s content has you squeezing your thighs together already, the buzzing arousal feeling thick and sticky at the apex of your thighs.

"So sweet, perfect." Marcus praises softly between suckles. His hands sliding under your gown to stroke your hip. "You taste perfect, my love."

The happy buzz vibrating right under your skin makes you giggle at that as you squirm underneath him. “And you haven’t even tasted the best part yet.”

“Hmmmm, I’m going to get there.” Marcus promises. “This isn’t a race. I could spend alllll day discovering your body with my tongue and hands before I even use my cock.”

A moan of agreement parts your lips and you end up grinning as he mouths at your skin, nipping and licking everywhere he pleases. “The flea market will still be there next weekend.”

“Maybe we should get out of bed then.” He pauses, head under the sheet and waits for you to squirm. “Right? We can’t miss the flea market.”

“Are you serious?” He’s probably not, but you still lift the sheet to look him in the eyes. If he actually wants to stop, then of course you will. But you have a feel he’s just being a tease again.

He smirks, and looks up at you innocently while sticking his tongue out to trace around your areola. "What do you think?" He hums.

“I’m not going to pressuring you into anything,” you qualify, although he basically has you whining. “But I am gonna have to take care of myself in the shower if you want to stop.”

"That would be a horrible precedent to set in our first weekend together." Marcus flicks his tongue over your aching nipple and then hums when you gasp out as his teeth scrap over it. "Don't you think? We've already postponed this too many times."

It’s almost too much to bear, the way he teases with words and touches and kisses all at once, but you manage to huff at him. “If I drown you when you get down there, it’s only because I’ve been thinking about this every waking second for weeks.”

“Worth it.” He promises with a grin. “It had been so hard not to jerk off thinking about you while I was in London. Especially knowing you were all soft, wet and sweet smelling from your baths with me.”

“Do you know how many times I almost got myself off in those damn baths?” Your soft groan is almost agonized. “I should have. Just moaned into the phone and let you know how badly I want you.”

“Fuck.” His cock twitches against the bed, trapped there as he continues to work his way down. “I wouldn’t have minded.” He admits. “Listening to your orgasm and imagining how you look.” He bites his lip. “You look gorgeous.”

“Would’ve been worth it.” He kisses further down your torso and you hum in approval. “Can’t wait to see how wrecked you look when you cum in me.”

“I had a screening while I was in London.” Marcus admits quietly. “After Vanessa broke up with me. I always do after a relationship ends. Just in case.”

“I do too.” A little bit of a sheepish laugh follows. “Turns out it’s really easy to get good healthcare when your Mom is President.”

Marcus chuckles against your belly button before kissing it. “I bet.” He hums. “No one needs a leaked doctor office visit where the First Princess has an STI.”

“I only like that nickname because it came from the night with you,” you confess, fingers running through his short fair fondly. “I hope you know that.”

“So how about I just call you Princess?” Marcus’s voice drops about two octaves and he smirks at you wickedly.

“As long as I’m your princess.” Although, your sigh immediately gives away what that tone in his voice fires to you.

“Is there any other kind of Princess you would be?” He sends you a wink as he trails his tongue over your hip.

“Not anymore.” Your head falls back on your pillow in relief at that fact, and you fling off the sheet to get to watch him. “Not now that I have you.”

Pleasure races down his spine and he shuffles slightly lower. “I am yours.”

“Glad we—” The moan that cuts off your thought when you feel Marcus’s breath at the apex of your open thighs is deep and curls up from your toes. “Agree.”

He chuckles and doesn’t hesitate to use his fingers to spread your lips apart and he coos as he gets the first good look at your weeping sex. “So pretty.” He praises before he decides the best way to taste you is to slowly drag his tongue along your soaked slit.

“Oh fuck.” Even when you were expecting it, the delicate touch has your eyelids fluttering shut and your chest heaving. Your curse sounds like the most beautiful praise to his ears, moaning at that and the silky, tangy taste of your cunt. Letting his tongue slowly flick along your folds and go where the natural curves of your lips take him. “Never going out again,” you vow, letting a breathy whine vibrate on your tongue.

Marcus chuckles into your folds, keeping pressure on the most sensitive parts of you as he explores. He’s meticulous. Once he’s set himself to the task of learning you, absolutely nothing can or will possibly drag him away. The more you squirm, the firmer his hold becomes. But the more you pant and moan and coo his name into the morning light? Marcus is eager.

The sheet being pulled away allows him to watch you. Enjoying the way you writhe and squirm under his touch. Humming against your skin as you whimper his name prettily.

There's no possible explanation beyond Marcus having a three-foot-long tongue, because the way he feels like he's everywhere at once is the most beautiful kind of overwhelming. There's a solid chance he's just been licking into you and sucking at your clit for hours from how boneless you are, but the first tightening of the knotted arousal at the bottom of your spine heralding the first orgasm of the day reminds you just how quickly he's actually gotten here. You only feel like you've been on this cloud of ecstasy for forever.

Marcus feels your thighs starts to tense around his head. Tightening his grip of your hips as he continues to overwhelm you gently.

“Baby—” Breathless gasps begin to take over as your whole body seems to tighten in response to the mounting pleasure. “I’m so—fuck, I’m so close—”

He doesn’t dare pull away, not wanting to give you a seconds break from the flick of his tongue. Groaning into you and coaxing you to cum for him.

Marcus’s name is a chant on your lips as you fall apart, tipping off the peak of the mountain of pleasure and swan diving down into the swimming ecstasy that Marcus is drawing out of you with lips and teeth and hands.

Your breathless cry of his name is followed by the most gorgeous sight he’s ever seen. Your back arches, eyes closed, one hand tangled into his hair and the other gripping the sheets. It’s beautiful and erotic, a pure work of live art that is priceless to him.

For a few seconds after it’s like you’ve forgotten how to breathe, and then you sink back into the mattress with a sigh. You still have one hand in his hair and it rubs gently, begging him to climb up your body so you can kiss him.

It takes a few minutes, Marcus liking to be thorough when he is working a woman down from her high. Kissing the swollen skin gently before his mouth starts a slow journey back up to yours. By the time he gets up to your lips you’re practically whining for that kiss, happily letting him sink down on top of you when he gets there. His body covers yours perfect, fitting into every grove like he was made for you – because he was. His lips molding to yours in a soft yet sensuous kiss that consumes both of you in the growing morning light.

The valley between your thighs is the perfect place for him to rest, and you cradle him against your body as easily as if you were welcoming him home. What they say about intimacy between soulmates seems to be abundantly clear to you in this moment — it really is the deepest feeling of connection you’ve ever had.

Marcus revels in the feel, sliding his tongue against yours and he pushes his arms under yours to hold you close. It’s almost lazy, the way you sink against each other, but Marcus’s cock trapped between your bodies isn’t going to let either of you get distracted from the wonderful the track that you’re on.

His knuckles brush your cheek and when he finally pulls away, he’s grinning at you. “Good morning.”

"Cheeky," you hum at him, although you're grinning too. "Making me cum that hard and then acting all cute and innocent."

“That was hard?” He tilts his head and smirks slightly, teasing you. “I thought that was a good place to start.”

"Marcus Reid Pike." Eyeing him with a skeptical huff, you ruffle his hair again and end up laughing. "I'm all for that. Just give me a second to recover."

He laughs, coming back down to smother you in affectionate kisses to hear you squeal. “No recovery time!” He commands playfully.

"Such a demanding lover!" You faux-scold, laughing and clinging to him as you squeal and squirm in his arms. Marcus laughs like an evil villain and rocks his hips, grinding his cock against your mound.

"Fuck." It earns him a whimper from your lips, your whole body lighting up all over again at the contact.The playfulness ebbs away and is replaced by a moment of silent desire passing through both of you. Leaning in again, his lips press against yours once more. When you shift this time, your feet are flat on the bed and your knees end up bracketing his hips, encouraging him closer and letting him rest in the cradle of your thighs.

“Ready for more?” He hums, ducking his head to kiss your pulse. “I thought my little Hummingbird needed to recover?”

"I have reconsidered," you inform him, with the air of someone making a very serious and important political decision. "And instead insist on more."

“Ahhhh.” He pops his head up and makes a very loft expression appear on his own face as his hips tilt back and the head of his cock catches on your slick entrance. “A wise choice.” He rasps out, pushing forward to start breaking you open. “Princess.”

Your own noise is best described as a whine, somewhere in between a sharp gasp and a plaintive begging for as much as he's willing to give you. Your legs find their way up higher on his hips to invite him to bury himself in your heat, and even though you were just kissing him seconds ago, you swear he's managed to find a way to loom over you with the perfect expression of desire on his face.

You are exquisite, perfect. Marcus can’t even find enough words to describe how the moment he slides into you wraps around his heart and imprints into his soul. The same soul that is fused with yours. He’s always heard that you feel so much deeper with your soulmate and he’s happy to learn that it’s true.

For a few long seconds, the two of you are content to adjust to each other. No sharp, awkward movements. No wiggling or shifting. The angle is already perfect and Marcus is fully seated inside your body without a single moment of hesitation or difficulty. There’s just a feeling of coming home that you’re basking in until he starts to move.

Starting slow is the only way to do this. Not because he’s afraid of hurting you, but because he doesn’t want to leave you. Feeling like he just stay buried inside your honeyed walls and be perfectly content. The first time he draws his hips back, a low groan falls from his lips. Your real name following that.

There are octaves of difference in your responses. Where Marcus’s groan comes from somewhere deep in his soul, your high whine of pleasure is its own ethereal sound. Once those sounds break free, it seems like a release cord has been pulled — and every pleasurable sound, pure of encouragement, and moan of praise is sure to come tumbling out after it.

It’s never been like this. Never reached into his body and tugged at his soul like this. He should feel guilty but he can’t. Not when every slow thrust is met with an eagerness that shows your own enthusiasm.

Each thrust from Marcus comes with a lift or a roll of your hips, meeting him at the center of the movement to create an exquisite rhythm between the two of you. It's the ebb and flow of the ocean between your bodies as the pace increases and the warmth of the sun heats your skin even further.

It’s beautiful, but he can tell that it’s not enough. Your fingernails dig into his skin, only to release a second later as if you are afraid of marking him. Your body asking for more than the gentle lovemaking. “Let me-“ Marcus kisses you again. “Do you want to try a different position?”

With his cock buried to the hilt inside you like it is, he could probably suggest murder and you'd agree with breathless enthusiasm. "Anything," you nod emphatically and soothe the light fingernail marks you accidentally left on his shoulder.

“Let me know if you don’t like something, Princess.” Marcus murmurs seriously. “This is about both of us.”

"I promise." Right now all you care about is that he doesn't leave the heat of your little cocoon for too long, but you're willing to try just about anything once.

Marcus pulls back and he tries to shift without pulling out of you. Almost succeeding, but smirking slightly when you whimper as his cock falls out. Pushing his legs under your hips, he lifts your left leg onto his shoulder and shimmy’s closer.

There's no thrusting in this position, but as Marcus slides inside you again he leans back the intensity of just grinding against each other makes you moan out and reach to grip Marcus's ankle by your head. He loves how deep he feels, how your walls simply flutter around him. “So good baby.” Marcus groans. “How does it feel?”

"So good baby." Echoing him with a whimper, the hand of yours that isn't clinging to him is somewhere between fisting the sheets and exploring your own body while his hips grind into yours. "You like watching me writhe, gorgeous?"

“Yes.” The word falls like a prayer from his lips, breathless as he watches you. His heart galloping like he’s running a marathon and he can only hope that it’s half as good for you.

"You wanna see me touch myself?" The angle is perfect for it. For him to watch you on your back as he rolls his hips against yours and makes both of you shudder in response. Your free hand squeezes mercilessly at one of your tits, pawing it and twisting the nipple with enough force to make you moan sharply.

“Show me what you like.” Marcus growls out the order, his cock pulsing violently inside your walls as his body responds to the idea.

Anchoring yourself to him was like clinging to life when he first slid inside you in this position, but now you can take your hand away and put it to much better use rubbing decisive, tight circles around your clit to give Marcus a gorgeous show of you indulging in your own body at the same time he fucks you.

His eyes keep roaming. Taking in your hand squeezing and manipulating your breast, the tight circles you rub around your clit. All finding it to be the sexiest thing he’s ever seen as his cock grinds into you. The end of the shaft the only part of it he can see.

Watching Marcus practically salivate over the sight of you is worth not being able to kiss him in this position. Every time he lifts his hips his cock scrubs against your g-spot and your back arches just a little bit more, rocketing you straight toward the second orgasm of the morning.

“That how you like it baby?” Marcus groans when you clench down around him, providing the perfect pressure. “What else do you like? Tell me. Want to give it to you.”

“Want you to — oh fuck — fucking wreck me.” What started out as beautiful, slow, sensual lovemaking has quickly picked up speed and intensity. Like something inside the two of you just released out of nowhere. “Claim me.”

“Fuck” Marcus growls from the very pit of his stomach and he manages to push to his knees by folding them under and looming over you. “You want it rough?”

Simply knowing the man is broad doesn’t do justice to the way he looms over you now. There is power in his strength and yet a deep confidence that he would never, never hurt you. You know Marcus can be gentle and sensual — but you also want to see what it’s like when he’s rough. “Absolutely.”

Your leg is up on his shoulder so when he lunges forward, it’s pressed back to your body. Trapped between the two of you and pinning your hand so you can’t move it from your clit. His hand slaps the side of your thigh sharply and he replaces the hand on your tit with his own, the next thrust more of a sharp snap of his hips.

Permission seems to be all he needed, having no issue taking charge or throwing some power into his thrusts. It pushes you up the bed and has you moaning out all over again. If you had neighbors, they would definitely be complaining. Instead, you just make a mental note to get an extra treat for your agents in apology for how much of this they’re going to start hearing.

“Tell me what else you want.” He demands through gritted teeth and he slides one hand up to rest on the hollow of your throat. He doesn’t squeeze. “This?”

The whimper he earns from you with that suggestion is almost pitiable, but having one of your favorite things to watch in porn that you've never tried before just offered to you – it makes you impossibly wetter and that impending orgasm come even closer. "I – fuck – please?" You beg, knowing you sound pitiful but not caring in the least.

“Hold onto my hand Princess.” Marcus orders roughly. “Squeeze twice quickly if you need me to stop.” He knows that it’s hard to talk sometimes and he wants you to be safe. If this is the kind of experience you want sometimes, you will need to discuss safe words and other safety precautions. Later.

It's possibly the most obedient you've ever been in your life and you put your hand over his wrist and squeeze it twice quickly to show him that you understand. "Like that. I love you, baby."

“I love you too.” He grunts, snapping his hips forward as he squeezes your windpipe for the first time. It’s not hard, but it’s firm enough to cut your air intake in half.

If he was worried even for a second that this might be going out on a limb or that you agreed to it just because you thought it would please him, that worry slides away instantly. As soon as he squeezes, your eyes rolls back in pleasure and your cunt squeezes his cock tight, flooding him with another rush of arousal.

“Holy shit, holy shit. You like that?” He groans, squeezing a little harder. “Yeah you do.” He hisses. “Open your mouth for me, Princess.”

You really fucking do like it, and the instinct for obedience it seems to ingrain in you has you opening your mouth immediately.

It’s a testament to his core training that he can take his other hand off the bed. Holding himself up as he presses his thumb to your tongue and hooks your jaw open even more as he continues to pound into you. “Suck.” He growls.

It might be the single sexiest thing you've ever seen. The way he practically blocks out the sun with the bulk of him and narrows down your entire world to only him feels incredible. Just swirling your tongue around his thumb and sucking it deeper into your mouth has you all the way to the edge of pleasure; but it's when Marcus growls again that you completely lose control, cumming so hard you feel like the world has gone white at the edges.

His blood pressure shoots through the roof and he’s pretty sure that you’ve just soaked the bed underneath you in the most intense orgasm he’s ever witnessed. Panting out your name as he continues to rock into you at an unhinged pace to intensify the pleasure.

If you could you’d beg him to join you. Moan praise and encouragements and tell him with complete honesty how incredibly well he’s fucking you. But being at his mercy like this means your best option is putting all your focus into lavishing the digit in your mouth in attention and bearing down on his cock in earnest any time he’s inside you.

“Fuck baby, fuck baby.” Marcus can’t keep up the growling when he feels like shouting at how hard you are squeezing him. “Gonna cum, gonna – fuck, fill up that little pussy.” He hisses, his hips stutter for a few thrusts before he is burying himself deep.

You practically have to catch him when he falls over the edge after you, just making sure that he doesn’t collapse in such a way that your heads knock together or he accidentally puts too much weight toward the one side of the bed you’ve ended up closer to. You let go of his wrist when his grip on your throat loosens, letting him slump into your body and wrapping that arm around his shoulders to hold him close as he rides out his orgasm.

It’s the most intense feeling Marcus has ever felt in his life. Bigger than any rush of adrenaline or dose of serotonin. For one heart stopping moment, he’s almost afraid that he’s had a heart attack. Body shaking with pleasure as he pours himself into you completely. It’s as if your bodies, as well as your souls, merge.

You dust soft kisses on his cheeks and along his jaw, reveling in the feeling of being completely full of him while he catches his breath.

“How are you feeling?” When he can think, Marcus pulls back to start checking in with you. His hand softening in its touch and he caresses your throat gently. He hadn’t been too rough, but he likes to make a fuss, especially when sex takes a turn like it did this morning.

“Fantastic.” You admit with only a hint of sheepishness in the way you smile at him and your hands caress his back and shoulders. “You?”

“Amazing.” He assures you softly. “Anything you didn’t quite like? Wanted more of?”

“I didn’t want to stop in the middle and ask how you felt about biting or scratching,” you admit. It feels silly to say since he paused to check in with you about getting rough, but you’re being honest. “And…I think we should talk about safe words?”

“We should.” Marcus agrees. “Expectations and needs are important to address as well.”

“I didn’t anticipate rough morning sex the first time,” you giggle, brushing sweat-matted hair from his forehead. “My mistake.”

“That was okay, right?” His soft brown eyes turned worried as he wonders if he overstepped for the first time you were together.

“Baby.” The worry on his face has you reaching for his immediately and pressing kisses to his lips. “It was amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard in my life.”

“Okay.” He sighs in relief. “I just didn’t want to overstep our first time.”

“Not at all.” A kiss on the bridge of his nose punctuates the promise. “As long as you enjoyed it, too. Sex should be about both of our pleasure.”

“I enjoyed myself.” Marcus admits with an embarrassed grin. “I enjoy getting a little rougher or darker depending on how my partner feels about it.”

“It’s not an every time thing,” you agree, enjoying the way Marcus almost blushes over admitting his pleasure, “but when you’re in the mood it’s so much fun.”

“I can completely agree.” He hums as he shifts to move off of you.

“Do you still want to go to the flea market today?” You’re up for anything. As long as you get to spend the day with him, everything is golden.

“What do you want?” He asks softly, cupping your cheek. “Your birthday was emotional and I just want to give you a day to enjoy.”

"I just want you. As cheesy as that sounds." Reaching up to peck a kiss on his lips, you shift off the bed along with him despite still-wobbly legs. "Let's take a shower and head to the flea market just like we planned. If something else strikes our fancy then we'll switch gears when we think of it?"

“That sounds like a perfect day to me.” Marcus quickly follows you, holding onto your waist as you go into the bathroom. “Shower together?”

"Absolutely." Naked Marcus is rapidly becoming one of your favorite versions of him, and you fully plan on pampering him in the shower in thanks for fucking you senseless. Seems like a fair trade in your mind.

He hums in approval and moves towards the shower stall to turn on the water while you take care of your after sex business. “Do I need to leave for you to use the bathroom?” He asks, aware that it might not be something you like to do— peeing in front of a partner.

"Not on my account." While some girls might be squeamish about that, you're not one of them. "If you can be inside me, you can stand to be in the room while I pee. That's my feeling, anyway."

“Sound logic to me.” He can’t argue with it. “Especially since one day I’ll be in a delivery room as you give birth to our children.”

"And you need to be okay with bodily functions way before that day comes." Hearing him be on the same page as you is both an enormous relief and absolutely thrilling at the same time and you flash him a grin. "Can I...tell you about the dream I had last night? Without you thinking I'm an absolute crazy person?"

“You can tell me anything, always.” He promises, returning your grin easily and reaching for the towels that are neatly folded on a shelf. “I want us to share anything and everything. For us to be more than just soulmates. Friends too.”

"To be fair, we were friends for a whole month before anything happened," you remind him. The shower is already starting to steam the bathroom mirror but you instinctively wash your hands after you finish on the toilet. "We were f-w-y. Friends with yearning."

“Lots of yearning.” Marcus can agree and he opens the door to let you step into the shower. “Tell me about your dream, Princess.”

"It was about us." Stepping under the hot water with him right behind you, you sigh and lean back under the hot spray. "We had..." A small laugh escapes you and you shake your head. "We had four kids, a big, beautiful Golden Retriever, and we were living in a beautiful little house that looked like a converted barn. It was the most beautiful little domestic vision and I almost didn't want to wake up, except I knew that you were there for real right next to me."

“Four kids, huh?” He grins as he wraps his arms around you and slides his hands up to cup your breasts. “These will be off limits for a long time then.”

"Your fault for telling me twins run in your family," you huff at him, though you arch into his touch immediately. "It got in my subconscious."

“I kind of like the idea of four.” He admits, whispering into your ear. “Two for each of us to corral.” He jokes. “We’ll need a big bed for Sunday morning snuggles when they are young.”

"California king and great big blankets for them to cuddle under." The image is a sweet one, and it conjures up lazy morning and plenty of giggling kiddos in your mind. "And the dog, to cap it all off. Because you know the dog will corral them and be their favourite playmate."

“Absolutely.” Marcus agrees, chuckling himself. “And shedding everywhere, getting muddy with them. Shrieking when he flings water all over them after a bath.”

You both laugh as you start to wash up, reaching for soap and for washcloths and maneuvering around each other in the shower that was definitely not built for two. "So thank you for a beautiful dream and a beautiful wake up."

“It was absolutely my pleasure.” Marcus puffs proudly. “Every single second of it.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2023: October 9th

Day 9: Slutwear, Squirting/Cumshots, Prostitution/Camming/Sex-for-Service

Agent Whiskey x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Camming, technically sex work, voyeurism, sex toys, breast play, masturbation, dom/sub undertones, slight obsession

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The camera light blinks on, making you take a deep breath and adjust the lacy mask that completely conceals the upper half of your face. Last week, it had been a pretty rhinestone cat mask, but you had wanted something gothically sexy for the first day you are camming in October. 

“Hello.” You lick your lips, tasting the fruity lip gloss that you had thought would look good on the camera feed for your customers. The chat bar, where the users that are in your Cam ‘room’ can send you messages or just talk amongst themselves. There’s only one username here tonight and you see that he had paid for a private session. 

Whiskey. You had heard his voice a few times and imagined a cowboy from the top of his Stetson to the bottom of his boots. “Whiskey.” 

****

Jack groans in anticipation as the feed connects, catching the first sight of Kinkygirl4U. 

It had been a whim, a lonely, spur of the moment thing but since that first visit to the cam room, he’s been hooked. Eager to see you move, talk, fuck yourself. Touch yourself. 

No one at Statesman knows about this, they can’t know about it. It’s his dirty little secret, staying home when he could prowl the bars. Watching a computer screen when he could be sliding into bed with whatever woman he had charmed. 

The fact was, he was bored of that. It had lost its appeal. He was so tired of chasing women that he was going to forget their faces before he slipped out their front door. The endless flirting and one night stands. He knew he wasn’t going to commit, he couldn’t. 

Stumbling upon your page had happened by accident. Searching porn one night when the invite for a cam room popped up. It had been intriguing enough to click on and he had been pushed into your room just as soon as he had entered his credit card information. 

You had been perfect. A mix of innocent and vixen that had his cock throbbing as you touched yourself and interacted with the other people that were watching. Watching along with them as you made yourself cum, talked about your sexual experience and laid yourself literally bare in front of him. 

It had been the beginning for him. Every chance he had, he had logged on to watch you. Memorizing your broadcast times so he could make sure that he was in front of a computer. He had even locked his office door and watched you a few times when he was working at Statesman in New York. 

Jack turns on the mic and chuckles quietly. “Hello, Kinkygirl.” He purrs. “You sure look pretty in that mask.” There’s nothing else that you are wearing tonight, so he can’t complement your pretty lingerie, but your tits look mouthwatering. 

You giggle for him, something that is most likely practiced, but it sounds real and he can indulge in the fantasy that you are actually preening for him. 

“Whiskey, you naughty boy. You bought out the show tonight.” You playfully chastise him, but there is a grin on your face and your hand slides up to cup your tits and push them towards the camera. “Didn’t want to share, hum?” 

“Sure didn’t, sugar.” He grunts, drinking in the sight of you greedily and reaching for the overly large belt buckle that has a flask on it. Needing to free his already hard cock. “Want you all to myself. That’s alright, ain’t it?” 

You hum playfully, tilting your head up in thought even as you brush your thumbs over those perky nipples of yours. You know that Whiskey likes your breasts, he always wants you to touch them or pinch your nipples. Apparently a tit man behind his screen. “Of course it is, baby.” You decide, letting out a soft moan when your nipples are achingly hard and the pressure of your thumb turns slightly painful against it. 

Jack groans, loving how your back arches and your eyes flutter behind the mask. Just once, he would want to see all of your face. Even resisting the urge to have you found using Statesman resources. This is just for him, you think that he’s just some normal man and he likes it. 

“Good.” He grunts, flicking the button of his jeans open and sighing in relief. He can see, but there’s a certain sense of anonymity that he enjoys. You know a username, a code name of a code name in life’s little irony. “Why don’t you show me how wet you are, sugar? I’ve been thinkin’ about you all day.” He coos.

Smirking when you immediately lean back and start to spread your legs, willing to give him anything that he wants. It’s a rush for him, telling you to perform and you do it so prettily. Groaning when he sees how wet your folds are as you angle the camera down to let him get an up close view. 

“That’s a fucking pretty cunt.” He praises, pulling his cock out of his jeans and reaching for the lotion. He’s pretty much having to keep a bottle close by when he’s got you on his screen. Broadcasted to him in vivid color and 4K resolution. “So sexy, sugar. You love touching your little clit, don’t cha?”

He hisses when he wraps his hand around his dick, the lotion much cooler than your cunt would be. Watching as you breathlessly pant and start to touch yourself. He will watch whatever you want to do, eager to just devour you and he coos praises as he strokes himself. 

“Pretend you’re with a lover, sugar. Show me how you would ride a dick.” You have a toy, a dildo that you suction to the mirror that you have laying on your bed. Letting him see how it looks as you ride it through the reflection and he has been wanting to see it again since the first time he had seen it. 

You obey without even questioning it, making him twitch in his hand when he watches the thick pink silicone of the toy disappear inside you, watching your lips stretch around it and wondering if it feels as good as the real thing for you. “Oh fuck, sugar, that feel good?” He asks. “Bet it feels so good inside that little cunt. Nice and tight. That toy thick enough or do you like it thicker?” 

He’s pretty fucking girthy so he’s imagining how you would whine as you slowly sink down on his cock. Coming through the screen and straddling him in his chair. 

“It’s so good.” Your breathy moans are turned all the way up so he can hear every hitch in your voice. Never being turned on like then when someone is moaning in his ear. 

“That’s it, sugar. Ride it for Whiskey.” He moans out, eyes fixed on the screen where you are literally giving him his own private porno. Like those peep-show booths, but this is even better. It’s obviously in your room, where you live and relax when you aren’t filming. 

You are magnificent as you pleasure yourself in front of the camera, for him. Whimpering out his username as you start to bounce on the toy. He wonders what you are imagining. Are you imagining some version of him? Are you thinking about what you are going to do after, what errands you have to run? He’s so used to wearing his own mask when he is on a mission that he’s apparently more comfortable with you than with a person in the flesh. His little cam girl. 

Jack moans, cumming from the sight of your tits bouncing and the pressure of his cock. Covering his shirt and pants with his release as you start to cum yourself. Slowly working himself through his pleasure as you cry and shake over the toy before you stop moving. Pulling off of the toy and panting as you move closer to the camera. “How was that, Whiskey?” You ask breathlessly. 

Your face is sweaty and your eyes filled with passion or pleasure, that part he hasn’t quite figured out yet, but he will. Next time. “Perfect, sugar.” Jack murmurs through the internet connection that links you together. “Just perfect.” 

[pascalpvnk]

december & january fic recs list

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

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

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

fic rec masterlist // main masterlist

a * denotes smut (18+ MDNI!!)

drabbles

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

oneshots

Joel Miller

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

Frankie Morales

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

Javier Peña

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

Misc.

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

series

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

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

[palioom]

forget (agent whiskey x f!reader)

summary: after a long day at work, jack helps you forget about the stress in your life.

pairing: agent whiskey x f!reader word count: 2.7k warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n (but nicknames); oral (f receiving); fingering; p in v; overstimulation; orgasm denial; slight dom/sub; dacryphilia (if you squint); some biting; aftercare

• masterlist •

Sometimes, the world around her became too much.

Work, people, life.

A constant flood of stimuli, crashing into her without resistance, draining her, overwhelming her.

Annoying customers, annoying coworkers. 

Friends, family.

Fuck, sometimes she just needed a break.

“Relax, sugar.” Jack’s drawl pulled her into the present again, lips on her neck, his hands on her naked hips as he hovered above her. “Come back to me, baby. That’s right.”

She blinked up at him, images of the annoyances of the past few days fading away as he spoke, as his fingers trailed over her skin, making her shiver.

“Good girl, there she is.” He smiled, forming his lips against hers and she whimpered, her hands finding his cheeks. 

She was so adorable like this, needy and pliant.

His sweet little lady.

“I just wanna turn my head off for a while.” Is what she had told him when she had come home from work this afternoon, setting her bag down with a sigh.

It wasn’t the first time, and he was happy to help.

Anything for his darling.

She’d do the same for him.

“Focus on me, sugar.” He drawled, kissing her temple, moustache tickling her, his hands wandering up her body.

They’d been at this for the better part of an hour now, where he teased her with his lips and hands, made her squirm so all she could think about was here and now. 

Even if her mind still slipped sometimes, he always brought it back, his words and touches like a lasso he so expertly threw around it.

Like he did with the bulls on their ranch, just as fierce and stubborn.

Focusing on Jack reminded her of how much she ached to be touched, how wet she was, how sensitive. She writhed as he touched her breasts, gently kneading them and grinning against her cheek when she arched into his touch with a whine.

“Jack, please.” She moaned, tears welling up in her eyes, rolling her hips and managing the faintest contact with his jeans before he pinned her down again. “It hurts, please.”

The pressure in her abdomen so much, her body on fire.

He smirked, chuckling lightly. “It hurts, baby? What hurts?”

Of course he was playing this game, making her squirm in frustration. Her head felt light, as if it was swimming, far away from here.

Making it difficult to form any coherent sentences.

Jack knew. He loved the space she was in, eyes glazed over and so sensitive that even the smallest touch could push her over that edge.

Could. But it wouldn’t.

Still not touching herself, her head now truly starting to turn off as his one hand continued groping at her breast, his mouth soon joining.

A long whine left her lips, head thrown back, one of her hands wandering to his hair to grab a fistful of it.

He groaned around her nipple, still smirking.

Always smirking.

“You know- Please.” It was almost a sob, so overstimulated her entire body felt like it was buzzing with electricity.

Like the electricity of his lasso, just less deadly.

Although she believed she could die if left in this state for too long, without release.

Just the tip of his tongue against her nipple made her squirm against his hand on her abdomen, drawing in a shuddering breath as he kept torturing her, tears running down the side of her face.

“Don’t cry, sugar.” His lips left her breast, thankfully, now attaching to her cheek, then kissing away the tears. “Use your words for me, baby. I know you can.”

His other hand laid against her cheek, thumb stroking her cheekbone as she looked up at him. Her own fingers tried to open the buttons of his shirt, needing to feel more of him.

But she trembled too much, managing to pop one button open before her fingers curled into the denim, watery eyes fixed on his, brow furrowed.

“My pussy,” she choked out, legs opening wider for him, trying to entice him. “I need you, please.” 

“What d’you need from me?” He loved drawing this out, his mouth kissing down her jaw to her neck, his moustache scratching her. 

All these little touches felt so much more intense like this, with how wound up she was already.

“Your mouth, your fingers, your-” Her breath hitched in her throat when he sucked a purple bruise into that spot below her ear. 

For a moment, she forgot to breathe. 

“Your cock, Jack.”

He chuckled at her response, breath hot against her skin.

“See, sugar.” Jack drawled, moving down her body, kissing her collarbone, her sternum, moving further down to her belly. “It ain’t that hard, huh?”

His lips trailed over her skin, further down and further down, until his mouth found her wet heat, his fingers spreading her open.

He chuckled when her hips moved just from his fingers, just by holding her open as he looked at her. 

She was so adorable.

He watched just a moment longer before leaning forward, tongue tasting her with a hum as she breathed out his name, relieved but desperate, tears in her eyes as her hands found his hair again.

“Yes- Yes, Jack!” She gasped, hips bucking up into his face so hard he had to wrap an arm around her waist to stop her. “Thank you, fuck!”

He only hummed into her with a smirk, a shiver running up her spine, and focused on her clit, teasing his tongue over it before sucking hard. Smiling at how her back arched, noticing how close she got.

From just this little bit of stimulation.

So close to snapping.

Then, his mouth was gone again, with a loud protest by her as she cried out, her orgasm that had been building rapidly ebbing away again.

“Baby, please!” She sobbed, just wanting that feeling to overwhelm her, losing her grip on his hair as he moved back. “You’re fucking mean.”

All the grievances of the day were forgotten, so far away as all she could think about now was her fading orgasm, his hands and mouth on her.

How she wanted to cum, that pressure inside her unbearable.

“Stop that swearin’, doll.” He said, teasing the insides of her thighs with his teeth. “My little lady shouldn’t be swearin’ like that.”

Mouth still on her thigh, he inserted one finger into her, making her press her cheek into the mattress as she clenched around him.

Smiling against her skin, he revelled in how she thrashed around, clearly overwhelmed but trying so hard. 

So hard for him and herself.

How she whined and stilled for a moment when he added a second finger, slipping in and out of her easily with how soaked she was.

“Look at ya, darlin’. So damn beautiful, the Niagara Falls got nothin’ on you, soakin’ the sheets like this.”

Curling his fingers, he bit the inside of her knee, feeling how hard she clenched around him. Just when her orgasm was about to crest again, his fingers were gone, one of her feet pushing against his shoulder as she cried.

“Sugar.” He said, voice stern, but an underlying tone of amusement present nonetheless, raising one brow.

He sucked his fingers clean, moving to lean over her again.

When he kissed her, his tongue slipped into her mouth, making her taste herself on his tongue, mixed with the bourbon he loved.

Fingers rubbing soothing circles into her hip as she squirmed.

All while she whined and whimpered and pleaded with him to please give her a release already, to give her just one orgasm. 

Just something.

She didn’t know if he was trying to punish her for something or if he dragged this out for his own enjoyment.

“One more, you can do that, sugar, right?” He chuckled, kissing her forehead. “One more and I’ll give you all that you want, doll.”

“Jack-” She protested, hands on his arms now. “Please, need you.”

“Want ole’ Jack to fill you up, hm?” He asked, lips against her cheek as his fingers trailed down again, smiling when she flinched from his touch. So sensitive, ready to snap. “To make you forget everythin’, sweetheart?”

She nodded, inhaling sharply when his fingers found her clit, building her up for a third time, rapidly, expertly as she squirmed and more tears fell.

“Don’t cry, sugar, I’m right here.”

He kissed away the tears, maybe enjoying the salty taste just a little too much, before moving back, watching her face as he brought her closer and closer.

And then he pulled away again, making her cry out and throw her head back, legs kicking as the feeling ebbed away once more.

“What a sweet girl you are for me, sugar.” He smiled, sitting back and taking her in entirely for a moment, hands finding his belt buckle as his eyes raked over her body. “Such a good girl. I know you’re achin’ for me.”

Her ears perked at the sound of his belt, looking at him again as he opened it slowly, her hands fisting the sheets below her.

She needed him so desperately, her body on fire. Jack was skilled in pulling her apart so she would forget right before putting her back together again.

Sometimes she wondered if this was part of Statesmen training. Taking someone apart, putting them back together.

Make them forget.

He took his time opening his belt, before removing his jeans, her mouth watering at the sight of him straining against his underwear.

Eyes desperate, glazed over. Cheeks still wet from the tears, lips parted as she watched. Wanting to touch him but knowing he’d just tease her more if she tried.

“Sugar, if I didn’t wanna help ya so damn much right now, I’d just leave you like this.” He chuckled, grunting as he palmed himself through the thin fabric. “You got no idea how fuckin’ gorgeous you look when you’re this desperate. Pussy soaked, cryin’.”

“Jack.” She whined, fearing he would actually just leave her here, eyes fixed on his hand on the outline of his dick.

“I won’t, doll, don’t you worry your pretty little head. That sweet pussy of yours needs some good ole’ Jack, hm?” He chuckled, taking off his underwear, smirking at how her eyes stayed on his cock. “Need a cowboy to ride you?”

She nodded, almost feverishly as she reached for him, taking his hand in hers and pulling him down to her.

He smiled, kissing her hard as he took himself in one hand, dragging the head of his cock through her wet folds, slowly, teasingly. 

Pretending to push in for a moment, chuckling at how she whined when he didn’t.

Then, he did, pushing into her with one fluid motion and taking her by surprise, making her cry out. Not from pain, simply from how good it felt, spread open by him as her legs wrapped around his waist.

“Still so damn tight when I just spent so long preparin’ ya, huh?” He laughed, stilling for a moment inside her to see if she needed time.

But her hips squirming and her hands grabbing his biceps told him all he needed to know, slowly rocking in and out of her, taking in her moans and whimpers.

Her orgasm was building back up rapidly, still lingering in her bones and just waiting to be drawn out again, her hips meeting his thrusts sloppily.

“‘Atta girl, c’mon, doll, let me feel you.” He said, mouth on her neck, feeling the pulse under her skin. “Let go of your stress and soak my cock, sugar.”

The coil inside her snapped so suddenly, making her clench around him so tightly that he was forced to stop for a moment, only managing small movements as she cried out for him.

How her back arched into him, head thrown back.

“Look at you, darlin’!” He chuckled, watching as the tears rolled down her face, already picking up where he left off, making her tremble. “So pretty when that head of yours is empty besides my cock.”

It overwhelmed her just how quickly he was building her up again when the first orgasm hadn’t even really finished surging through her, clinging to him as she whimpered.

“God- Fuck, Jack!”

“Is my little lady ready to go again?” He breathed, kissing up her jaw, feeling himself get closer as she squeezed him tight. “Go ahead darlin’, this is all for you.”

Her hips rolling in tandem with his, he coaxed a second orgasm out of her, mixing with the waves of the first one as they spread into every tiny crevice of her body, making her feel tingly and her head light as she gave into it.

He grunted as she came again, his rhythm faltering, feeling himself close too, the clear ecstasy on her face only spurring him on.

“One more, I know you can give me one more.” He breathed, lips ghosting over her cheek. “C’mon, be a good girl for me.”

His hand moved to her clit, rubbing tight circles into it as he felt her squeeze him tighter, squirming underneath him.

“Too much- Jack-” She cried, trying to move away from his fingers, the stimulation almost painful at this point.

But he didn’t let up, knowing she wasn’t at her limit yet, knowing she would let him know in a different way if she was.

“Sugar, one more, gotta make sure all you remember is me and my cock.”

And the coil snapped again, back arching as she cried out a third time, sobbing as he fucked her through it, wave after wave of almost painful pleasure hitting her, making him smile against her skin.

It was enough to push him over as well, stilling inside her with a loud grunt, still feeling her convulse around him as he emptied himself inside her.

Jack watched her as he calmed down, breathing hard above her, stroking her cheeks and pushing away some hair from her forehead. 

Watched how she trembled, eyes closed as she still rode out the last of her orgasm.

Lips parted slightly.

“You’ve done so well, sugar.” He whispered against her ear, kissing it. The vibration sent a shiver through her body. “I’m so proud, how are you feelin’?”

Sore. 

Sore and spent but lightheaded and definitely more relaxed than when she had come home.

But she only hummed in response, feeling unable to say anything just yet.

He understood, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, feeling how she was still responsive to him.

“I’ll be back in a moment, gorgeous.” He said, pulling out of her as she winced.

Already feeling too empty again now that he was gone.

The few minutes he was gone for felt like eternity, and she felt like she was floating on a cloud, all hazy and limbs feeling weak. She loved this feeling and she loved how he got her to this point time and time again.

Suddenly, she felt something wet touch her center, hissing softly.

“Shit.”

Jack cleaned her up with the rag, kissing the inside of her knees, eyes going from her pussy to her face with a smile. 

She looked so pretty all fucked out.

“I apologize darlin’, but I gotta get you cleaned up.”

He tossed the rag to the side when he was done, moving to wrap her in a blanket and pull her against him, kissing her forehead.

“Do you need some water, darlin’?”

She sighed deeply, content, but shook her head. Her throat felt a little dry but she didn’t want it.

Curled against him, her head on his chest. 

His hand traced her spine through the thin blanket, just listening to her breathing as it slowed down.

“Thanks, cowboy.” She mumbled, closing her eyes. The only thing she wanted to do right now was sleep. “You’re good at making me forget.”

He pulled her in tighter, laughing. “No need to thank me, sugar. I love taking a ride with my favourite girl.”

She shook her head slightly with a smile, yawning.

His body was warm and firm, and soon she had fallen asleep, the aches of the day truly forgotten.

Head empty, ready for a new day.

[bits-and-babs]

𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐂𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 ‘𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐘’ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐒

↳ summary: a quiet day off work calls for something sweet. Jack treats you to some pancakes and naughty chaos ensues.

↳ pairing: jack 'whiskey' daniels x f!reader

↳ [2k words] content: 18+ MDNI, food, cooking, soft!dom x sub dynamics, spanking, oral (f receiving). This is a @beskarbabs remaster -- original post date 2021.

jack masterlist I| main masterlist |I join taglist

Given your tireless work schedules, it's uncommon for you and Jack to have mornings together. Spending those scarce daybreak hours in the kitchen was exceptional. For you to walk through the doorway in just your underwear and one of his oversized shirts to find Agent Whiskey taking breakfast into his own hands? Unheard of.

Jack had pursued you for quite some time. Flowers, chocolates, and gifts had all failed to win you over in his mission to make you his girlfriend. He'd tried everything from enlisting the help of Tequila to exaggerate all the reasons he'd be a good partner. He even begged Ginger Ale to put in a good word. Regardless, after months of attempts, he had resigned to accepting that you simply didn't see him that way. 

That was until he invited you to breakfast after a particularly arduous mission that had left you with minor injuries and a foul mood. On that morning, the golden glow of the sunbeams leaking in from the window above the counter lit up the kitchen as the smell of batter warmed you up from the inside. You could remember it so clearly, Jack's hat cast to the side on the table you sat at as he flipped the pancakes diligently in the pan without dropping or creasing one. 

The fluffiness, the sweetness that bordered on sickly yet still managed to be just perfect, was enough for you to reconsider your stance on your relationship with the mildly mulish man. The lemon juice and sugar sprinkled on top just for you gave you no option but to pay your compliments to the chef with a kiss. 

It was Jack's favourite story. He told literally anyone who would listen. 

It goes without saying, now that Jack had seduced you with his southern charm and humour consisting of mostly (if not all) dad jokes, that any morning the two of you managed to spend together, he would pull out the eggs, milk, flour and sugar. This morning appears to be no different. 

"Are you making pancakes?" You ask softly, cheekbone pressed between his shoulder blades as you hold him from behind. You hear him chuckle softly, turning his face over his shoulder. You know what he's asking for and oblige, pressing a chaste kiss to his bronzed skin. 

"Sure am, Sugar." He returns to his work, a smile hidden under that well-kept moustache. He takes up the batter bowl and expertly uses the spatula in hand to pour out the mixture into the frying pan without spilling even a dribble. He lays the spatula down into the bowl, handle propped up against the rim as he focuses on cooking the batter so it's perfectly golden and crispy. 

The warm, homey smell of frying batter swirling from the stove makes your mouth water and your stomach growl, begging for something substantial. Finally, you decide you don't want to wait for Jack to use the mixture up, so use your index finger to scoop up some of the dough and smear it across your tongue. 

Big mistake. 

You see Jack's broad shoulders stop moving as he pauses his work. He leisurely lays down the pan on the heat mat lying on the counter before turning to you with a fixed and piercing gaze. He arches a thick eyebrow accusatorially. 

"Did you just steal some?" His voice is deep, slipping further into his accent from the low volume. You look up into his eyes, your own wide with confusion at the abrupt change in atmosphere. 

"... Yes," you admit. It comes out in a whisper, aware by now that Whiskey was planning something if the smirk tugging at the edge of his lip was anything to go by. He takes up the handle of the spatula from the bowl, slowly raising it and allowing the loose mixture to fall back into the bowl. He keeps his eyes on you. 

"Clean it," he murmurs, lifting the head of the utensil to your mouth. It takes a second for his order to process in your brain. By then, he's already pressing the flat side to your lips. You stare up at him, bewildered, as you trail your tongue across the plastic. You can taste the sweetness that coats your tastebuds, but note the bitterness of raw flour. 

Jack's eyes follow your ministrations, seemingly unaffected by your actions. He's the most unreadable you'd ever seen, his emotions usually worn on the rim of his cowboy hat rather than his sleeve, dangling between your eyes so it was impossible to miss. Right now, however, his face is blank.

The batter gathers on your tongue until you've cleared one side, and Jack twists the handle and exposes the other side to you. You also get to work on that one, humming softly at the addictively sweet taste. 

Held at this angle, the mix begins to collect on the curve of the head. It drips onto your chin and dribbles down, catching your lover's attention. However, it isn't until it falls from your chin and onto the top of your breast that you notice his eye twitch, evidence that he was affected by the scene. 

Jack pulls the plastic tool from you, inspecting it for leftovers. When he finds it clean, he looks back to you. He's rock-hard in his jeans. You had learnt that Jack's tight denim did very little to hide his excitement over the many times he'd had to restrain himself during missions. It certainly wasn't hard to miss. 

"Hands on the table, hips out," he orders again. You blink up at him, a weak laugh escaping your throat. 

"What are you gonna do, Jack? Arrest me?" You manage to force out, heart thudding wildly in your chest. He's looking at you like he could eat you. 

"You gonna do as I say?" He questions, tone demanding. You do. You turn your back to him, bending at the waist and placing your palms on the dining table. You sense him come up behind you, kicking your feet apart as though he's about to search you while he sets the bowl of batter down beside your wrist. 

"Last time I checked, you were a Statesman, not a police offic-" You yelp out as the sharp sound slap that practically reverberates around the room, the sharp sting burning its way into the flesh of your exposed ass cheeks underneath the hem of the shirt you had borrowed for the morning. 

The blossoming sensation of prickling skin where the object had connected had you whipping your head around to glare at Jack, whose smirk informs you he had rather enjoyed your reaction. It's then that he wiggles the spatula in his hand, alerting you to the fact he had just spanked you with it. 

"Jack!" You hiss, hand moving to rub at the irritated area, "What was that for?" He swats your hand away, taking the hem of his shirt you were wearing and hiking it up over your hips so your ass is entirely exposed to him. 

"Punishment for stealing," he says simply, voice low and raspy. You roll your eyes, about to argue, when he lands the utensil on your thighs just underneath the crease of your ass. It sparks a harsh sting settling deep between your legs as you cry out in shock. 

There's a silence that follows in the room, but inside your ears, you can hear the pounding of your blood rushing through your body, your heart thrumming so hard it makes your chest hurt. Jack was adventurous, sure, but this was new. Deep down, you know he had started this as a joke, but if the tent you had seen in his tight jeans was anything to go by, he was enjoying this... But, of course, he isn't the only one... 

And it looks like Jack noticed. 

He barely skips a beat, almost like this is what he had planned all along. 

"You're gonna count them out for me, Sugar." He commands, palm settling on your lower back while he waits for your consent. His body language in your peripheral has changed, suddenly very serious and driven by arousal. You nod with a shaky breath, confirming. 

"I wanna hear you say it, Darlin'." Even now, he still takes so much care of you. 

"I'll count them out," you repeat you him, and you swear you hear him whisper 'good girl' behind you. The bite of the first two blows starts to ebb away, aided by the gentle stroke over the curve of your ass with the back of his fingers as he takes in the view of your pink cheeks. 

He gives you no further warning than removing his hand. You hear the THWACK of the pancake turner first, but the hot, prickling pain follows the sound quickly, blooming across your cheeks. You let out a soft whine, releasing the sound in an attempt to ease the tension in your muscles. 

"One," you squeak out, the power-play making you light-headed as your pussy flutters around nothing. Jack is totally silent, not allowing you to see his response to your reaction. 

Another quick snap of his wrist and the sharp smack of the handle hits once again just under your ass. It hurts so good, a loud moan escaping your lips as you brace yourself against the tenderness. So caught up in breathing through the pinch, you forget to count out quickly enough. 

"T-Two!" You try to correct yourself, but Jack has already noticed your 'defiance'. He tuts softly, shaking his head. 

"You'll have to do better than that, Sugar. I'll let this one slide-" he grips your sore asscheeks gently, enough for goosebumps to rise across your skin at the deep throbbing between your legs, "But we'll start from zero if it happens again." You nod quickly, confirming that you've heard him. 

He's gracious, soothing the pain he had inflicted for just a moment before striking you again, with the rubber head this time. 

"Ffu- Three," you moan, the pulses of pain thrumming straight to your core. You can feel that you're soaking your panties through, dripping from the mixture of anticipation and smarting skin. 

"Two more," Jack informs you, watching the way you rub your thighs together in search of some kind of friction for your stiff and aching clit. It's no use, you both know that, so you resign to whinging softly, acknowledging the last two blows. 

He spanks you again. 

"Fffour!" You struggle; the heat in your asscheeks and between your thighs is almost unbearable. You can practically feel the welts rising on your skin, the buzzing energy there creating perfect ghost-touches of the utensil. 

The last blow strikes you so hard that you hear it ringing in your ears. It cracks like lightning up your spine, settling deep in your cunt as you wail on the final number. 

"Fiiiveee~" Sobs escape you, tears collecting in the corners of your eyes at the relief and the intense need to be touched, to ride out an orgasm that had built up so much it felt like your legs were going to fall out from underneath you. You're shaking at the knees, relying heavily on the support of the table to keep you upright. 

"Such a good girl, Sugar. You did so good," he murmurs, smoothing your skin with a light touch as he moves to his knees behind you. He kisses behind your trembling knees, your left first, and then your right. He trails the tip of his nose up the back of your right thigh, noting the whines of desperation that escape you. 

"Mhmm. These," he whispers, pressing gentle and loving kisses to the swell of your stinging asscheeks, "These are my favourite cakes," he subtly teases you, and you laugh out weakly at his playful, cheeky side returning. Though, the laughter doesn't last long as he moves his mouth between your legs to trace his tongue over your still-clothed cunt. 

"But nothing beats the taste of this..." he groans out, the sweet tang of your arousal painting his tongue. He holds your hip in one hand, thumbs tracing gentle patterns on your hipbone while he uses the other to tug your panties to the side. 

"If you haven't learnt your lesson about stealing, I can think of another way to punish you," he rasps, nose nudging at your clit. 

Needless to say, you dipped your fingers into the batter bowl once more.

Maybe twice.

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[cerridwen007]

Give me some sugar, sugar.

Pairing: Agent 'Jack Daniels' Whiskey x f!reader.

Word count: 1.5k (18+) MINORS DNI!

Summary: After coming home from a long day at work, all Whiskey wants is to taste your sweetness and make you feel good. Even going as far as getting on his knees and begging you to let him do so.

Warnings/notes: SMUT, FLUFF, swearing, rough oral (f receieving), Dom and sub dynamics Dom reader, sub reader, soft Whiskey, sub Whiskey, Dom Whiskey, overstimulation, man handling, face riding, begging.

A/N: Finally posting a Whiskey fic. I've got a couple more fic ideas for Whiskey in the works that I'm definitely looking forward to finishing and posting. And I also went back to working on Corruption of Innocence part 2 after a about a month of procrastinating so I'm planning to post that asap, defs by the end of this month. So let me know if you guys enjoyed this, likes, comments, and reposts are always appreciated.

***********

The door to your shared home being swung open and closed didn't give you a fright as you had expected the arrival of your very handsome man coming home at this hour. A familiar, deep southern drawl could be heard throughout the house, calling out your name.

"Baby, I'm home, where are you? Need to give you some sugar, sugar."

You giggle and smile to yourself, hearing your sexy partner thirst over you as soon as he gets home. Your thoughts are interrupted as he runs into the room, slightly red and panting, his hair slightly disheveled after being under his stetson all day. His pupils are blown wide with love as he looks at you lying on the couch.

"Come ere, baby doll. I need taste your sweetness." He lunged forward and tackles you with a cuddle, leaning most of his weight on you, before peppering your face and neck with kisses.

"Argh...I missed you too, baby." You chuckle.

You giggle as he licks your neck and nuzzles his nose under your jaw.

"How was your day, baby?" You ask.

"Great, now that I'm here with you." He replies.

You groan softly and roll your eyes at his cheesiness, but you can't deny that you actually love it. You loved that he wasn't afraid to constantly shower you with affection, with compliments and hugs and kisses.

He begins to kiss further down your front, caressing the top of your chest with light bites and licks. A sudden idea pops into your head.

Whiskey was the type of man who was very dominant yet giving in the bedroom and as a partner. He liked expressing his love in all of the love languages, giving you flowers randomly, always complimenting your new outfits, showering you with kisses all the time, dropping everything to join you when you asked him to do your hobbies with you. Doing jobs around the house and bringing you breakfast in bed without you ever having to ask for it.

He really was perfect. So you did feel a little guilty denying him something that you both wanted, but you ultimately wanted to play around with your dynamic even just for a couple minutes. You wanted to see how far you could push him.

You slowly push his shoulders away, and he looks up at you, his baby brown cow eyes full of concern.

"Oh, baby, did I go too far? Did I hurt you?" He asks, voice full of fear.

"No baby, you didn't....I just don't think your desperate enough for this pussy." You tease, biting your tongue to keep from smirking.

"Are you kidding?! I fucken want to taste this sweet pussy day and night, 24/7." He responds, offended by your remark.

"Mmmh, I don't know... maybe you just might have to beg me to have a taste."

"Ha, I would beg you if you asked baby."

"Then get on your knees, pretty boy." You say darkly.

He groans and swallows hard, feeling strangley turned on by the commanding tone that you've taken with him. He listens and quickly gets on his knees in front of you.

"Good boy." You say patting his head before abruptly grabbing his hair tightly and pulling him forward. You hover your face close to his, your breath fanning over his trembling lips. "Now beg for a taste."

He looks up at you with pleading eyes. "Sweetheart, please let me taste you."

You chuckle harshly. "Oh, you can do better than that, baby."

"Baby, please, you know you would feel so good riding this stache, I fucken love smelling your sweet scent right under my nose all day and then getting to come home and taste it straight from the source."

He tries to pull you thighs closer to him, but you plant your foot on his chest.

"Mmmh, still not convinced, cowboy.

Your heart rate is beating fast, betraying this calm, collected facade you currently have. He is getting restless, his cock uncomfortable confined by his tight jeans. He is almost whimpering at the sight of you.

"Please baby, please, I fucken need to taste you, to make you feel good. It not a want anymore, it's a need. Please....fuck."

You desperately want to give in and just let his talented mouth please you, but you want to keep it up a little longer.

"Is it that good baby that you need to taste me right now?"

"Fuck yes baby, it's the most divine substance in this world, sweeter than honey, you're so fucken divine."

You hum, pretty happy with his begging and tilt his chin up so you can kiss him firmly on the lips, and then you turn your head and lean in further to whisper in his ear.

"Okay, baby, you've earned it."

You lean back and spread you legs a bit inviting him in.

"All for you, baby."

His eyes widen and grow from something pleading to something feral within a second. He practically growls as he grabs your thighs tightly and pulls you middle towards his face. He rips your pants and panties off your legs swiftly. And immediately licks a firm wet stripe up your heat.

"Oh fuck." You cry out, bucking your hips into his face.

He wasn't being gentle this time, eating you out like he usually did. No, he was being rough and eating like a dog eating it's first meal in weeks. And you fucken loved it. His nose was pressing firmly into your clit as he fucked his tongue into your wet hole.

He was gripping your thighs so tightly it was nearly uncomfortable, surely leaving purple finger-shaped bruises on your skin for weeks.

He groans and grunts into your cunt as he buries his face into it. The sensation sending vibrations throughtout your core and body. His hips grind into the couch for some relieve.

"Shit, baby, just like that." You moan out.

He pushes two fingers into your pulsating hole without warning. The sudden stretch feels borderline painful, especially as he waits no time to thrust them in and out. He sucks on your clit firmly to help you relax and to balance the pain with some pleasure.

You are awfully close to orgasming, and Jack can tell, your walls clenching tightly around his thick fingers.

"Come for me baby, come for me, pretty girl." He almost commands you.

You cry out his name repeatedly as you reach your high.

"Atta girl." He praises as he licks up every drop that drips out of you. Your legs are shaking and begin to close firmly around his head from the overstimmulation, but Jack's not finished yet.

You try pleading to Jack as he continues licking your cunt, pushing his head away, but he only growls in response.

"I'm not finished with you yet sweetheart, gotta teach you a lesson for teasing me too damn long."

His lips quickly attach back to your warmth and he suddenly stands up, your legs drapped over his shoulders, his big hands holding your back and he lies back on the couch so you can ride his face.

"Baby I know you can give me one more, come on and ride this stache, leave it soaking with your sweetness, doll."

You shakily start to grind on his face. His mustache deliciously tickling your clit making you arch your back and throw your head back.

His hands start to move your thighs to help you ride his face while also pulling them apart as far as they can go. The dull pain adds to the intensity of the pleasure, and you cry out.

"Fuck Jack! So good.....so fucken good."

"That's it baby girl, fucken ride my face, ride this cowboy's face."

Your second orgasm is fast approaching as Jack relentlessly fucks your pussy with his tongue, his nose and stache grinding into your sensitive clit.

"Jack, fuck I'm...I'm going to cum."

"I know, baby. Cum for me."

He plunges two of his thick finger into your tight cunt to send you over the edge.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck, impossible to ignore, and it leaves you completely wrecked. You end up squirting all over Jack's face, making him chuckle and groan deeply.

He licks you till you are super sensitive and whimpering, pushing his head away. This time, he let's go of his hold on you and plant one final kiss to your center before pulling your thighs away from his face.

He has a massive cocky grin on his reddened face. The whole lower half of it is glistening with your juices that drip down onto his chin and neck. He's panting slightly, your knees give way, and you grip onto the side of the couch for support. He moves your body down his so that you face rests under his chin as he holds you tightly, planting kisses on your forehead and into your hair as he strokes up and down you your back tenderly.

"Did so good for me, sweetheart. I gotta let you take control more often, had me weak in the knees."

You giggle weakily. "You think so, baby? Cause I really enjoyed seeing you on your knees begging for me."

He laughs and squeezes you tightly. "Anytime, my love."

********

[agentwhiskeysdarlin]

Hot Stuff

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x F!Reader

Rating: NSFW 18+

Warnings: Jack cooking in nothing but an apron, smutty time, like porn with very little plot, smutty things happening on the kitchen table, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, squirting (implied), p in v sex, slight dom/sub undertones like if you squint

Word Count: 1.4k

Author’s Notes: This fic happened all because of an apron I saw at Barnes & Noble. I swear I can pull a Jack fic out of just about anything. This was fun and cute but so so smutty. I hope you all enjoy! Thank you to @clint-aww-no-barton​ as always!

ao3 link

  You took the porch steps quickly, before walking inside. You were instantly smacked with the smell of whatever Jack was fixing in the kitchen. You had decided to go run a few errands and Jack declared he would stay behind and start dinner. The man had this look that you knew meant he was up to something else, but you went about your business and hid your suspicions.

  “I’m home!” You called out, ditching your shoes and keys at the door before stepping further into the house.

  “In the kitchen darlin’!”

  You walked around the corner and immediately felt heat rise to your cheeks at the sight in front of you. Jack stood, cooking in nothing but his apron, that had been a birthday gift from you. It was more of joke than anything and even though you weren’t shocked, it still left you speechless. When he turned, he met you with a proud smirk and “hot stuff coming through” with peppers displayed on the apron. You stared dumbfounded at him, mouth slightly agape.

  “You had to have known this was eventually going to happen when you bought me this,” he spread his arms slightly smirk growing on his lips.

  “It was the reason I bought it, I just wasn’t expecting it,” you let out a giggle and shook your head at him.

  You stepped to him, pulling slightly at the fabric that went around his neck and smashed your lips to his. He let out a moan against your lips, before one arm snaked around you and pulling you against him. You were greeted with how hard he already was and it made you puddle. You slightly went limb in his arms and he let out a chuckle as his lips fell away but not going far.

  “You see what you do to me darlin’?”

  “Mmm you should feel what you do to me.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  He skillfully turned and backed you against the counter that held the sink. His eyes locked with yours as he undid the buttons of your jeans and slipped them down just enough, before his hand dipped into your panties. He let his middle finger slide up your slit, from dripping entrance to your clit, bringing your wetness with him and making deep circles there. You let out a moan not letting your eyes falter once from his.

  “Mmmmm you are incredibly wet for me darlin’. I feel like I might need to do something about that.”

  “What about the food?” Your voice came on broken and it pulled a smirk from Jack.

  He moved, turning the burner on the stove off.

  “I’ll remake it all. I want to enjoy my dessert first.”

  You smirked as he skillfully picked you up bridal style before laying you across the table. It was huge and grand and Jack had insisted on it, given the two of you hosted other Statesman agents and their families at your home often. It was also not the first time it had been used in this manner, which always earned smirk filled glances from each other during those get togethers.

  Jack hooked his fingers in your jean belt loops and pulled them the rest of the way down and off. Then your panties went next, then your shirt and bra. Never once did he stop watching you, making you squirm under his watchful eyes. You laid completely bare now for him on your kitchen table, already a complete mess.

  Jack went down spreading your legs wide and keeping his hands there, with a slight grip that told you he wouldn’t let your legs close. Then he dug in. His skilled tongue always worked wonders and magic for you and never failed to make you tumble over the edge quickly. He lapped at you, dipping his tongue inside your entrance to pulling your bundle of nerves between his lips and sucking. You were a moaning, almost screaming mess, your fingers laced into his hair pulling. He kept going and you could feel yourself inching closer and closer. Your hips bucked and then Jack’s movements stopped completely. Your head flew up with confusion and hurt at the man still stationed between your legs.

  “What the fuck Jack?”

  “Oh such language. Calm down there darlin’ I’ve got you, just be patient.”

  You let out a whine and Jack chuckled before he was up.

  “Stay put and do not move a single muscle.”

  You gave him a nod and watched him leave before returning with a towel and you knew now you were in trouble. He removed the apron and then stationed himself over you one hand firmly on the table next to you. You pulled yourself up slightly resting on your elbows and this his other hand gently rubbed circled over your clit. He sped up his eyes locked on yours until he was going at a ridiculous speed and had you moaning trying to keep your eyes from shutting. Then he stopped and you whimpered again.

  The man smiled with feline satisfaction before he slipped two fingers deep inside of you so slowly your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

  “You know what’s about to happen so let go for me,” his voice was low and you could do nothing but nod your head. “Look at me.”

  You did as told locking your eyes once again with his deep brown ones. Then his fingers started to move so quickly, cocked in a come here motion and you were gone. You let out a scream and let go your vision going white and you knew you had accomplished what Jack had set out to do.

  Not missing a beat Jack entered you to the hilt and the overwhelming pleasure set you reeling. You grabbed the sides of the table, once again letting out a scream, thankful you had no close neighbors. Jack was over you, still not moving, as his lips smashed in to yours. He kissed you deeply, tears falling down your face from the sudden overwhelming pleasure. Then he pulled away, his forehead resting against yours.

  “Look at me,” his voice came in a hush, fanning over your face.

  You did panting and blissed out. “Look at you darlin’. How do you want it?”

  “Slow,” your voice came out so soft, that if he wasn’t so close he wouldn’t have heard it.

He pulled out slowly and completely before reentering you again. You felt every last inch of him inside your already sensitive pussy. You knew the slowness wasn’t going to last long before you would be begging him to go faster. He caged himself around you placing his hands on each side of you.

  “Jack, hard, fast, please.” You begged as you looked up at him and he smirked.

  He pulled out slowly one more time, locked his eyes with yours and slammed back into you so hard that he moved you. He stood up straighter his hands taking a bruising grip on your hips before he had no more mercy left. You managed to make yourself sit up and lock your legs around him as he kept going.

  “Jack,” you whimpered his name so pitifully that it earned a concerned look from him until he saw your face.

  He pulled you closer with one around you, “I know darlin’. Let go for me. I’m right behind you.”

His words were a breath across your face and his other hand came up to your cheek before he kissed you swallowing the moan that escaped as you came hard. You gripped at him so hard he had to pull away groaning and finding the edge himself. Your legs shook and you panted so hard you wasn’t sure you could ever catch your breath again. Jack buried his face in your shoulder as he came apart inside you, and you wrapped your entire self around him trying to come down.

  You both stayed in that position as you tried to find earth and your kitchen again, having been lost in each other before finally Jack pulled away his hand on your cheek to grab your attention.

  “You okay?”

  “Jack I’m perfect,” you smiled a sleepy smile as he kissed your brow.

  “So am I darlin’. Now I’ll make you a deal. I know you love to cook with me when you’re home but why don’t I take you to the bedroom and let you snuggle while I finish dinner and then I’ll join you. We’ll eat in bed, forget washing the dishes, and I’ll hold you till the morning.”

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[psychedelic-ink]

𝑷𝑨𝑪𝑰𝑭𝒀 𝑯𝑬𝑹

pairing: javier peña x fem!reader

genre: hurt/comfort, smut, minors dni

word count: 3k

summary: the loneliness you feel settles in to your very core, unfeeling and feeling too much at the same time constantly. At nights like this there's only one man that can help you, and that man is Javier Pena.

warnings: dea agent!reader, sub!reader, reader suffering from signs of depression due to loneliness, reader as long hair but the type of it is not specified, impact play (slapping cheek, ass, thighs), choking, hair pulling, nails digging into skin but not enough to break the skin, dom/sub relationship, bd.sm scene, fingering, vaginal s.ex, cumming on body, aftercare

You’re nestled right next to the window, watching as the city of Medellin lights up with unexpected lights, fire reaching all the way to the top of the buildings. There’s an untouched glass of whiskey sitting in front of you, ice clicking together as it melts away. A candle, half melted, flickering next to the glass. You remain silent and motionless as the small flame dances. The light re-shapes your face, your eyes hollowed out and cheek bones prominent than usual. You gaze upon your distorted reflection in the glass. You remind yourself of a deteriorating corpse. 

The loneliness settles into your very core, bone marrow replaced with the loathing and anger your desperation causes. You feel empty but at the same time you feel too much. Your brain swirls and swirls, causing you to break down every night and curse at where you found yourself after so many years. The hunt for Pablo Escabor makes you feel worse. Everyday you’re left empty handed and everynight you pray to an unknown god to take the pain away. 

The worst part of all of this is that you never know what to do to ease the hurt. Your heart clenches, you can’t breathe and after mere minutes of being trapped within your own body, you resume your regular life. You go to work, chat with fellow DEA agents and return home. You muse and find similarities between yourself and Sisyphus. The man pushes up the boulder only to see it fall again and again. You’re the same, maybe even worse. He suffers in his afterlife, you’re suffering when you should be living. 

At nights like this, when the need to feel anything other than this soul crushing emotional pain proves to be too strong, you don’t turn to the god you pray to normally. Instead you turn to Javier Pena, the man who makes you feel. 

Unlike the god you pray to on nights more bearable, Javier actually responds to you. He breaks you down and reconstructs you. When you’re with him, you can feel your body being molded into something else, you can feel something else, and in those brief moments you experience joy. 

He’s aware of this. At least you think he is. He never questions why you call him in the darkest hours of the night, he only asks one thing. It’s always the same. 

“Do you need me to pick anything up?” 

“No,” 

Despite your answer he always comes bearing food and a couple of beers. 

Today is no different. 

With a knock on the door, your gaze is finally broken away from your reflection. The floors creak with your steps and you open the door to see Javier with bags full of food and beer. It’s a routine at this point. He greets you by lowering his head and passes the threshold of the door without saying anything else. You place both hands against each side of his face and crash your lips together, the food along with the beer is left forgotten on top of the counter. It hurts. You need him and you need him now. 

Javier doesn’t question. He answers your movements with the same amount of eagerness, his strong hands trailing down your body and squeezing your ass. Your teeth clash together, lips pressed against one another in an almost painful way. He licks the inside of your mouth, forcing you to let go, forcing you to submit. You’re more than eager to do so. Moaning into his mouth, you part away and slowly get on your knees. His fingers find themselves latched into your hair, blunt nails gently scratching the scalp as you press your forehead against his clothed thigh. Your heart swells up, you can already feel the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. His thumb trails the frame of your face, lifting your downcast gaze up to meet his own. 

Your lips part with a gasp and a tear rolls down your cheek. 

His brows are knitted together, face laced with concern as he looks down at you. You hate making him worry. You hate the fact that he sees you only in your absolute worst. With a swipe of his thumb he wipes the tear away, a wet streak now glistening under the candle light. 

“What do you want?” 

Javier is clear-cut. He never wastes time with idle chatter and you love that about him. He understands you better than anyone else, he knows your needs and your suffering. Your chest feels a little bit lighter now, your skin tingles with anticipation. You want to feel his brute force against your body, every nerve electrified by the mere thought of it. Breath hitching, you close your eyes, feeling the warmth of his palm against your cheek. It soothes you. Makes it easier to tell him what you want, what you need in order to feel better. 

You swallow before you speak. 

“I want you to hurt me,” 

“You sure?” 

He brushes his thumb against your eyelid, a wordless plea for you to open your eyes when you ask for what you want. When the feather-like sensation of his fingers moves back to your cheek, you open them and meet his glance. 

“Yes,” 

The journey to the bedroom passes you by in a blur. You feel Javier’s hands, fingers squeezing everything you have to offer. He drags his nails across your bare skin, the sharp sensation of his nails making you purr in delight. Javier’s lips are on your lips, neck, shoulder– He rips your clothes off of you, stripping you bare as he pushes you to the bed. The bed creaks. Without so much as shredding his jacket he takes his place between your legs, staring down at you as he assesses your most sensitive parts. 

Before your night meetings had become a routine, you thought Javier hated this. He always looked so sad, his mood dropping significantly after the deed was done. He would take care of you in absolute silence, it used to break your heart. You thought that he did this only to ease your pain and that he took no pleasure out of this. But after the fourth time you realized that you couldn’t be further away from the truth. It was the little things he did that made you realize this. The way his pupils dilated after every hit, the way he would take in short, sharp breaths when you moaned at the pain. He needed this as much as you did, but for different reasons. 

Javier pushes your legs open, his eyes glued to your glistening core. His gaze traveled up to your face, hands sliding up your body and cupping your breasts. Squeezing them, he keens at the way your back arches at his touch. He inches closer, thick thighs forcibly spreading your legs wider, jolts of pain cascades across your tendons. Javier’s one hand lays on your throat, nails shallowly digging into your skin without outright choking you. The two of you exchange glances. 

“Tell me what’s bothering you,” 

There’s no emotion in his voice, there rarely is during activities like this. It had become somewhat of a game, him asking you what’s wrong and you never telling him. You never found the right words, you also felt foolish. Your pain was nothing compared to the people of Medellin, to those who had lost their families. Bearing your teeth, you extend your neck forward, the curve of his hand pressing further into your windpipe. 

Javier leans in, you feel his alcohol scented breath ghosting over your countenance. Dragging his lips against your burning skin, he continues to speak. 

“You need to tell me what’s bothering you so I can help,” 

“You help me enough as it is, Javi,” 

He lets out a deep sigh, pressing his lips against the corner of your mouth. You know that he’s not satisfied with your answer but it’s the only answer that you can currently give– 

It only takes you a moment to realize his hand is no longer on your neck. Pain shoots throughout the skin of your cheek, throbbing as the voice echoes right after. Your chest heaves, eyes tearing up as your face contorted with pain. The next one you manage to notice. His hand slices through the air and his open palm clashes with your cheek once more. This time you gasp. Your thighs tremble as you attempt to close your legs but Javier’s body blocks you from doing so. Your cheek continues to throb painfully, pain blossoming across your face while you claw at the sheets. 

Javier grabs your chin and forces your jaw open as he shoves his tongue between your lips. Slick drips down your throbbing cunt, a patch of wetness growing against the sheets. He licks the inside of your mouth and as he parts away he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, pulling painfully. Your heart stutters, hips starting to move on their own while the hurricane of voices in your mind become nothing but faint murmurs. While his one hand rests against your chin, his other hand pulls your nipple, pinching it as he does so. A moan rips from your throat, his teeth now nipping at the side of your chin. Javier continues to abuse the sensitive nub, twisting and pinching it until you’re nothing but a babbling mess. 

“More,” you blurt out. “I want to feel your more,” 

He pulls away, a whine making its way through your parched lips. The fact that he’s fully clothed exhilarates you, a wave of arousal washing over your tired out nerves. His brown eyes travel across your body, stopping at your pussy. Reaching out, he drags two fingers between your folds, you grit your teeth. You hadn’t realized how sensitive you’ve become. 

“Fuck,” 

He’s entranced by how wet you are. Pulling back his fingers, Javier darts out his tongue and tastes you. The sight alone makes your insides ache with want. 

Javier’s eyes lock onto yours right before he winds up his hand and smacks your thigh– You choke on air, the pain rippling across your body like an earthquake while your eyes close shut. Another one follows, harsher compared to the one before. You cry out his name, tears flowing down the apples of your cheeks. Without a care in the world Javier shoves his spit drenched fingers into your core, watching you in an almost borderline bored fashion while your body arches with the pressure. He keeps his hand still, only watching while you grit your teeth. You want to feel him, want to cum around his fingers. You expectantly stare at him, a silent beg for him to move, but he doesn’t. He only stares, waiting for you to take what you want for yourself. 

With a broken sigh you slowly begin to move your hips. Immediately a sense of pleasure washes over you, your lips part with a sheer moan, slowly, you impale yourself on his fingers again and again, grinding as you chase your relief. You whimper his name. Clit throbbing painfully as you try to angle yourself so the shaft of his fingers would graze against it, but all your attempts are futile. Javier’s eyes are glued to your core, watching as your juices make his fingers glisten. Slowly you feel yourself starting to let go, body unwinding as the coil within your stomach tightens. 

“Javier,” you whisper, drawing his attention away from your heat to your face. “Please, I need you,” 

That’s all it takes to make him snap. 

Javier aggressively pulls his fingers out and flips you onto your stomach, you whine as you lift up your hips, eager to feel him deep inside. The familiar sound of a zipper echoes across the room and soon you feel the blunt tip of his cock, the fabric of his jeans scraping against the back of your thighs. Every sensation you feel is enough to have you trembling for him. 

Javier slides his hands up and down your back, nails dragging across your damp skin. The wait is unbearable, you want to feel the delicious stretch of his cock, want to feel those same nails digging into the flesh of your hips– 

But instead you jolt with a smack against your right ass cheek. 

You whimper at the pain blossoming, upper body falling into the pillows while your ass inevitably raises up. Javier smacks you again, the delicious sensation of his palm making you spasm and moan. Thrusting forward, he drags the length of his cock between your folds, slick coating his cock. He rests his hand against your scorched skin, feeling the way it throbs and burns as he kneads the flesh. 

“I don’t want you thinkin’,” he murmurs. “I want you to only focus on me, is that clear?” 

Inaudible whimpers fall from your lips, it’s not the answer he wishes to hear. With a growl rippling through his chest, he winds his hand back a third time and hits you again. 

This time you revel in the pain, eyes rolling back as spit dribbles from the corners of your lips. The constant abuse of the same patch of skin makes you see stars, pleasure mixing with the sharp pain. 

“Is. That. Clear?” 

“Yes!” 

You almost black out at the way he shoves his cock in one swift motion, stuffing you to the brim, heavy balls resting against your still burning flesh. On days less emotionally charged, Javier would wait. He would caress your back until he felt your pussy loosening around him but that wasn’t the case today. He pulls out almost entirely, only the tip resting within you, then he snaps his hips forward, moaning as you scream. Every time he thrusts his hips you feel the air leaving your lungs, your insides squeezes around him, cock stretching you in a delicious way. Javier’s pacing is brutal, rough. Just what you need. You feel every inch of him, every curve and suddenly you find yourself being pulled up, his fingers tangled in your hair as jolts of pain vibrate through your scalp. 

Your naked back is flushed against his clothed chest, hips moving relentlessly as he pounds into you again and again. His breathing is ragged against your skin, teeth nibbling your neck while his grip on your hair tightens. His other hand brushes against the front of your torso and roughly grabs your breast, squeezing it painfully. You see a flash of white everytime he fucks deeper into you, the force of his pelvis enough to bruise. His teeth digs into your skin, tongue lapping over the deep dents he’s making. 

You’re about to shatter into a million pieces, you feel it in your very gut, this is how Javier makes you feel whole again. This is how he loves you and you love him, even if the two of you are still unaware of this fact. 

Your hand reaches up and grabs his wrist, you can feel the veins curving along under his skin, tendons moving violently as he ruts into you like an animal in heat. 

“You ‘bout to come?” he groans, hips slowing down into a grinding motion. You nod. “Come for me then, prove to me how good I make you feel,” 

His hand drops to your aching clit, fingers drawing quick, small circles around the sensitive nub. Your throat hurts as you moan so you moan louder. Your insides flutter around him, you feel the pressure building and building. While he continues to play with your clit, his nails dig into your hips, leaving deep crescent shape marks across your skin. The pain pushes you over the edge. 

You cry out his name, eyes squeezed shut and mouth parted wide. You gush all around him, slick dripping down his length and staining the sheets. Javier doesn’t slow down, both his fingers and cock relentless as another orgasm shatters you into a million pieces. You’re sobbing, tears streaming down your face as you babble how much you love him and how grateful you are for his presence. Some part of your muddled up brain signals to you that this is the first time you’ve confessed, but you seem to miss it, his cock still sliding in and out as you cry. 

When you’re left trembling, Javier pulls out with a groan, you fall like a lifeless puppet, breathing heavily as you whimper. He begins to fist his cock, moaning between gritted teeth at the sight of your naked, ruined body. Soon you feel the hot strings of his cum hitting your back and ass, hissing at the way it burns. Javier’s chest heaves as he looks down at you. He breathes heavily as stuffs himself back into his jeans and heads to the bathroom. You stock the supplies in the same place so it’s easy to find, when he returns to the bedroom you have managed to move to your side, eyes glossy with tears. 

While he wipes you clean and murmurs words of praise, it goes into one ear and out the other but you manage to thank him anyway. 

“Don’t mention it,” there’s a tremble in his voice, but with how tired you are, you fail to notice the cause. “I– Did you mean what you said?” 

You try to collect the remainders of your scattered mind, your heart throbs painfully, tears pricking the corners of your eyes once more. In that moment muttering those words felt cathartic, even if it was a fleeting moment you wanted for him to know. You wanted to forget about your loneliness. 

“Javi–” 

“You don’t need to tell me anything if you’re not ready,” he throws the towel to the side and lays down next to you, pulling you close. “Just know that I’ll always be here for you. Whatever you need, I’ll provide. Just… promise me you’ll let me in, even if it’s just a little,” 

Your lips crack into a tired smile, you’re still slightly dazed but understand where he’s coming from. You move closer to meet his lips, you wince a bit from the pain but manage to brush your lips against his. 

“Only if you promise the same,” 

“I promise,” 

“I promise too.” 

[in-for-a-pennyx]

Kinktober 2022: October 10th

Day 10: Boot Worship

Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: D/s undertones, Dom!Javier, sub!reader, inappropriate workplace behaviour, boot worship, fingering (f receiving) cum eating

|| Prompts by @absurdthirst ||

This is only for anyone 18+ years of age, minors - please do not interact. Only proceed if you're over 18 and have read and understood the warnings and rating.

You were the only other person left in the office apart from DEA Agent Javier Peña, sitting at the desk diagonally opposite from him, your attention only half on the file in front of you. The rest of it - most of it if you were being honest, was instead focused on the intermittent glances you made towards Javier, more specifically the leather boots he was wearing.

Javier had returned to the office a few hours ago after another successful raid with Carillo. Steve had already gone home and the rest of the staff had slowly trickled out too. You can’t remember anymore why you decided to stay back but when Javier returned, you just couldn’t leave. It’s as if his magnetic force was keeping you rooted in your seat. The ironic thing being he wasn’t even aware of it. You worked in different departments and never had any real reason to work together.

He was sitting at his desk looking away into the distance, lost in his own world, nursing a whiskey tumbler in one hand and a cigarette in the other, his thumb between his lips.

When you had noticed the boots, the rest of the office might as well have ceased to exist. Beneath the industrial glow of the office lights, you swore the boots were almost shining, a tempting beacon drawing your attention repeatedly. The boots were dark leather with a zip on the side. They had a small heel and you could imagine the small boom they’d make when he strutted down the office floors. The tops disappeared under the fitted jeans he was wearing, those jeans that hugged every inch of his long, athletic legs. He had his right ankle resting on his left knee, his stance wide. How you wished to crawl between his legs and rub your face against his thighs, almost like a cat. You wanted to kiss down his clothed calves and inhale the rich scent of the leather. You wanted to feel the smooth and sumptuous feel of the leather against your lips and kiss them. You wanted to fall to your knees and give this man every pleasure you could think of.

You wanted, you wanted, you wanted.

What was happening? This wasn’t you. You never wanted such kinky things. How could a pair of boots have such a hold over you? Well, it wasn’t just the boots. It was the man wearing them too.

It was the look of deep trepidation on Javier’s face, as if he was questioning everything he’d done. Carillo’s methods were proving successful but they were undoubtedly extreme. Sure, Javi believed you needed to do bad things to catch bad people, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Carillo would soon cross a boundary he couldn’t come back from. He wanted to take comfort in the possibility of catching Escobar for real this time, but whatever plans he could formulate, he had this nagging feeling that they’d all manage to miss the mark somehow.

His thoughts were dark and swirling around him, and you couldn’t stand it. You despised the fact that this brave man who had sacrificed so much, who had been in this fight against Escobar longer than anyone else in this office, was being pulled under such an obvious blanket of self-doubt. He was a good agent, he was sincere and dedicated, and loyal and you couldn’t abide by the feeling of helplessness that was surrounding him. You wanted to make him feel good.

It had been several minutes since your last look at him, and holding your breath, you raised your head from your file and turned in his direction as subtly as you could, only to find that this time, Javier was no longer lost in thought. He appeared to be staring right back at you.

"You okay there? There’s never anyone else around at this time usually.” He asked in a low voice and you nearly choked. That wasn't what you'd expected to hear at all, but before you could muster a response, the DEA agent looked you dead in the eye with a serious expression on his face. "It's rude to stare you know."

You gulped and nodded sheepishly. "I'm sorry. It's just–"

Javier interrupted. "It's just you like my boots, don't you?"

Heat rose to your ears and you looked away in shame and shock. It seemed your luck had finally run out, and all your attempts at subterfuge had been for nothing, seeing as he'd managed to peg you so quickly. Of course, he did – he was a damn fine Agent.

"Yes," you answered, looking down, embarrassed and unsure of what Javier would do with this knowledge, but knowing that lying would be useless.

"That’s what I thought”.

"Sorry," you replied once again, finally turning your attention back to Javier, only to find he was sporting a flirtatious smile.

“Well, why don’t you come here and have a closer look?” he said, putting his foot on the ground and pushing his legs apart, making space for you.

You stared down at his boots again, unable to look him in the eyes. You could hardly believe what was about to happen. Javier’s eyes were fiery as he looked you up and down, the flames eating you up.

You got up from your chair and walked towards him slowly with butterflies in your stomach and knelt as you reached the space between his knees. You felt as if you were in another dimension, your body parts moving of their own volition. Your brain was static and your body was buzzing.

You nuzzled into the crotch of his jeans, inhaling his musk and leaving hot kisses over the covered outline of his semi-hard cock. You stroked his strong thighs, fighting the urge to bite them. You bent your back lower, lower, lower till you reached his boots, pressing your nose against them. You inhaled deeply, your nostrils filling with the distinctive scent. It was quite strong so you assumed the boots were new. You rubbed your palms gently against the toe box and inhaled once more. You got drunk on the scent and the feel of the leather, and the submission of it all. Heat began spreading through your body with each inhale, your skin tingling.

“Go on then, girl, kiss them. Kiss my boots. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” He pulled you out of your stupor with his husky voice. “Show me how much you love them” he ordered gently. 

The floor was cold against your knees and you felt a shiver go up your body but you didn’t care. You were allowed to do what you’d been fantasizing about. You placed a tender kiss on the toe of his right boot, the leather feeling as sumptuous as you’d imagined. 

“You can do better than that”, came the next order from above you. You started kissing more fervently, more sloppily. You moved from one boot to the other, this time licking a small stripe up the side of the zip, near his ankle. Shame battled with arousal and yet you’d never been this wet before. You rubbed your thighs together to find some relief and moaned softly against Javier’s ankle.

Javier had held still all this time, observing you but now he held your chin softly and raised your head, making you look directly into his eyes. “Good girl. You did so well showing me how much you liked my boots”. A lewd thrill swept up your veins at the praise, giving you goosebumps. 

 Without breaking eye contact, he bent down to reach under your skirt and his face ended up inches from yours. You could smell the cigarette on his breath and the whiskey, and the faint smell of gunpowder. He felt dangerous tonight. You froze in anticipation of his hand landing on your body. His fingers found their way to your soaked underwear after what felt like an age and he hummed in acknowledgment, “Hmm, did my boots make you so wet, girl? All this for me?” 

“Ye-yes, Agent Peña” you barely managed to whisper as he cocked his eyebrow. He pushed your underwear aside and swirled his fingers between your slick folds. The office was empty, silent except for your rapid breaths and the obscene wet noises Javi’s fingers and your cunt were making under your skirt. You placed your hands on Javi’s thighs for support and drew your knees out wider to make space for his hand. His fingers circled your sensitive clit and you whimpered at the sensation. He slid his fingers down and teased your slick opening. You shuddered at the relief and threw your head back, mouth slack with pleasure. You ground your pussy against his palm and tried to guide his fingers inside you but he didn’t budge.

“You’ll have to work for it if you want it, sweetheart” he groused. You mewled pathetically and looked at him with begging eyes but shuffled further in towards him on your knees. You placed your hands on his boots for balance and started rocking against his hand. You were gushing on his hand but you were far too gone to feel ashamed. He bent his fingers a fraction and they entered you, making you moan loudly. You could feel the leather again under your palms, lush and giving. His jean clad thighs were rubbing roughly against the outside of your arms and his own unique scent was surrounding you. Your senses were overwhelmed by him and you started riding his fingers faster, grinding against his palm harder. It didn’t take long for you to come, your wetness sliding down your thighs and making a mess. You rested your head on Javi’s thigh and caught your breath.

“Open your mouth, girl”. You obeyed him even before he finished his sentence, completely lost in his power. He brought his pussy-soaked fingers to your mouth and slid them slowly inside against your tongue. “Suck them clean, sweetheart” he murmured, his voice steel and velvet. You held his large hand with both of yours, keeping it in place, and started swirling your tongue around his wet digits, sucking them, imitating how you’d suck his hardening cock.

Once satisfied you’d done a good job of cleaning his fingers, he withdrew his fingers and stood up, offering you a hand. “You’re trouble” he growled as he took your hand and pulled you up to stand flush against him. “Let's get you home and see what else that talented tongue of yours can do.”

You smirked, feeling filthy and confident now, “Whatever you like Agent Peña. Whatever you like”.

END

A/n: Inspired by Javier in the Narcos - The Art and Making of the Show book. Snippets found on @ithinkwehitametaphor's blog linked below 💖

[unhinged-summer-fun]

like an open book

Written for Danktober 2022 Day 20: Overstimulation, Bluff, & National Suspenders Day

Daddy!Agent Whiskey x F!Reader (22+ Only)

Summary: It happens again. Sigh. You thought the sensory deprivation incident could be fixed with a little bit of overstimulation. WRONG.

Word Count: 654

Warnings: Safeword use, anxiety, overstimulation, Dom/sub elements, DDLG play, comfort, fear of safewording, good BDSM, aftercare, daddy kink

Notes: Listen this series is becoming my personal crusade to get people to chill the fuck out about safewords. They SHOULD be used. Sorry, reader girl, ur a hot fucking mess. U don't need kink, you need therapy.

[full danktober list here]

[daddy whiskey collection]

"Babygirl what's your color?"

"It's green, daddy, promise…"

"Do you promise?"

"…no…"

"Are you safewording right now?"

"Yes…"

"That's what I thought." Jack undid the ties holding you in the swing, gently lowering you to the ground one limb at a time. The whole time, you stared stoically ahead, tears streaming down your face and into the harness around your body. You were ashamed of yourself for the opposite reasons you were ashamed of the sensory deprivation disaster a few weeks ago. You'd thought the opposite would have been better, overstimulation play while in the swing. Jack liked the swing, it took a lot of pressure off his back and made him last longer. You'd been scared of it at first, but grew to love it the more you used it.

Now, though, you were trembling, nerves so overwhelmed it almost hurt just to exist in your body. You got the feeling Jack was very disappointed in you, like you'd bit off more than you could chew again for some harebrained idea about your worth in his life.

But that just wasn't true. It had been going fine, he'd been making you cum over and over again like he had one purpose in life, but after the sixth orgasm had your abs cramping up and your back alighted in flames, you couldn't take it anymore and had started crying. It had been fine going from five to six, but anything past that hurt.

"Here, take a sip babygirl." He took your hand and put a straw to your lips. It was the only two places he touched you, which you were guiltily grateful for. "The weighted blanket is over here, I think it'd help, do you want it?"

You nodded, still whimpering softly. It took seconds for him to return, and with him, a soft and cozy weight settled over your body. He laid you back on some floor pillows you kept beneath the swing and pulled the blanket up to your shoulders. "How's that?"

"Better," you pouted. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's not your fault, I wasn't watching you close enough." He shook his head, frowning at himself.

"I didn't mean to…"

His head shot up. "No, not like that. I know you can take a lot from me, baby. Sometimes the goalposts move if you're not looking closely." He put a hand on your knee, and you were grateful it didn't exacerbate the overstimulation. "Why'd you try and keep a brave face for me? Nothing wrong with saying you don't want any more."

"I just… I don't know. I wasn't really thinking straight, I think." You frowned as you turned it over in your mind. It rang true. "Yeah, I was all over the place, kinda. I think I might be a little twice-shy since…"

"I was thinking something similar. Nothing wrong with that. It was scary. I'm glad you told me the truth, though. You can always tell me that, babygirl."

"Will you come under here with me?" you asked in a small voice, missing him. He got under the covers with you and didn't fidget, knowing you needed his steady presence right now. "I don't know why I'm still acting this way."

"You said it yourself, there's some complicated connotations involved there. It'd be hard for anyone to break out of that in just a few weeks. Whatever I can do to make you feel comfortable saying a safeword or a 'hold up, Daddy' I'll do it. Rather wait a minute and check on you than see you cry." He sounded so soft and sincere, just like he's always been.

"I'll try harder," you promised. "You deserve to have fun, too. And not be scared of being with me."

"Now that'll never happen," he says. "More afraid of myself, really."

"I'm not."

"That's good to hear."

"I love you, Daddy."

"I love you, babygirl. Let's get you in a bath."

"Yes!"

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2022: October 27th

Day 27: Forniphilia (Human Furniture) // Breath Play // Infidelity

Agent Whiskey x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Dom/sub tones, porn, masturbation, untouched ejaculation

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You smirk at the disgruntled frown that creases Whiskey’s brow. That cocksure grin that annoys you so much wiped off his face and there is a slight disbelief in his eyes, as if he couldn’t understand how things had turned out to not be in his favor. 

“A bet is a bet, Agent Whiskey.” You crow, making sure that this wounds his no-so-small ego and also calls into question his honor. Things that he is very brash in protecting. “And I believe that you lost.” 

“Fuck.” The curse is hissed under his breath, the scowl pulling down that perfectly trimmed mustache that you always wanted to take for a ride, but you wouldn’t deal with the insufferable ego that went along with it. 

Honestly, the only reason that Jack had made this bet with you is because he had been sure that he would be the one winning. That you would be the one that would be submitting to his whims. You have no doubt that he had planned out something that you would find less amusing than he would. However, you wouldn’t find out today. 

There is a small little giggle that escapes your lips and you can’t wait to see his reaction when he realizes what exactly you have planned for the brash agent. Completely meant to take him down a peg or five and serve him up a large slice of humble pie. 

“My place, seven o’clock.” You chirp, wiggling your fingers goodbye at him as you turn around to walk away. 

“Now hold on a damn minute.” Jack huffs, making you look back to find his hands on his hips as he looks towards Ginger as if this is all her fault. “There ain’t no way on God’s green earth that she completed more missions than I did. I’m the senior agent here.” 

You snort, shake your head and give a small shrug of your shoulder. “Don’t tell me you already ordered the barely there outfit you wanted me to wear while I was at your beck and call?” You know how Jack operates, he’s not exactly subtle with his leering and the comments that plenty of women around Statesman had heard. Even if he was a sexist jerk, he was fucking handsome and that might be the only reason he didn’t get slapped as often as he should. 

The huff and slightly ruddiness of his cheeks gives him away. Making you giggle again and tut. “Jack….poor Jack.” You coo condescending. “You forgot that you were injured for nearly three weeks during the timeframe you chose.” You remind him with a vicious grin. “Who do you think took on your cases? Surely not Tequila.” 

That’s exactly who he thought had taken on his cases. You wonder if he had just assumed or if the younger agent had embellished his own work over those weeks. It wouldn’t surprise you. 

“Son of a bitch.” Jack hisses, realizing he had set himself up for failure and he has no one to blame but himself. 

“See you at seven.” You hum, grinning to yourself as you walk away, eager for later on tonight to see how Jack looks in your living room. 

****

“You want me to what?” His brows shoot up, his hat already off his head and he looks around as if he is trying to spot a camera or some of the other agents hiding away to see his reaction to your decision on how he would pay off his debt from the bet. 

“Strip down.” You repeat. “All of it, bare assed.” 

“Now hold on-”

“How much material was in the outfit you ordered Jack?” You demand, brow raised. You might have hacked into his emails and seen the outfit, knowing that it was completely sheer. It would have been better to be naked like you were demanding him to be. 

“There was-”

“Not fucking much.” You interrupt. “Now you can pay out your bet here, In the privacy of my home or we could make this happen at Statesman. And while you would have to wear something, I would make sure it was most embarrassing for you.” As you know he would as well. 

Dark brown eyes watch you for a long moment, gauging how serious you are before he huffs and starts to peel his jacket off. It’s honestly sad how quickly your cunt clenches just from the fact that he was submitting. Giving you control over this. 

“Now you want me just, kneel down?” His brow is scrunched, confused and you bite your lip to keep from smirking at the total bewilderment that is now on his face. You hadn’t missed the split second smirk on his face when he has assumed you had told him to strip down so you could fuck him. 

You motion to the empty space in front of your couch. “I’m missing a coffee table.” The one that is normally there is in your spare room, but that’s not the point. The point is for him to be your coffee table. 

“Yeah but-”

“Jack, you’re the one that said the bet could be anything we want it to be. If you don’t want to do this, let me know. You know the other option.” You smirk, knowing his ego wouldn’t let him tell the entire Statesman division that you were a better agent than he was. There was absolutely no way. 

Huffing, your challenge works - Jack starts ripping at the buttons on his deliciously tailored shirt. Revealing the golden skin beneath, sliding it off his shoulders and sighing as he starts to toe off his boots. “Let’s get this over with.”

****

That’s an interesting turn of events if you do say so yourself. You bite your lip, eyes firmly glued under the small pooch of Jack’s belly as his body is held ramrod straight. Hands and knees firm on the floor under him. That’s not the interesting part, the interesting part is that Jack’s cock is hard. 

Your tea cup and saucer in your hand, you hum as you set it down on his back as you sit down on the sofa. Humming to yourself as you notice that the impressive hard on that had been bobbing in the air beneath him has not gone away. The small dribble of liquid underneath him telling you that he’s really excited about this. 

He can’t talk to you, he can’t look at you and he can’t move. Those are the rules of your little prize tonight. His small little ass is cute, almost nonexistent as he acts as your coffee table. A sharp drop off instead of a rounded edge but you don’t mind it. It’s appealing even without the painted on jeans he wears and now you know why the front bulges so deliciously. The rumors are that Jack may suck at sex, but he is packing the right equipment. 

Grinning, you pull your feet up off the foot and prop them on your human coffee table. Hearing the small moan that he tries to hide, the bouncing of his cock even though he hasn’t moved. Wiggling your toes, you seemingly ignore him, reaching for your remote to turn on the tv. You have the perfect thing picked out for this moment. 

Jack inhales sharply, making the cup rattle as he hears the soft moans. You see the tension in his entire body as his eyes cut towards your tv, positioned just to where he can barely see the screen out of the corner of his eye. It’s your video. One you had from when you were seducing a target. A personal favorite for when you needed to rub one out and right now, you are feeling horny. 

Your fingers dip beneath the waistband of your pants, sliding under your panties to start to slowly rub your clit. You won’t get naked in front of Jack, not yet. Your moan makes his cock twitch again, another dribble of cum hits the floor but you don’t comment on it. Feeling the muscles of his back ripple under your feet as you gently push them into his skin. Bracing them while your fingers work your cunt.

There’s always been a power dynamic between the two of you, a fight for control but you never expected Jack Daniels to be a submissive. Not the way that his body is giving away his excitement for this. If you were going to acknowledge your table, you would cup his cock and see if he moans. Instead you concentrate on making yourself cum, the rattling of the cup on his back very telling on how many muscles are moving even though he has strict instructions to keep still. 

He likes this. Really likes this if the way his entire body trembles every time you moan. HIs jaw locked and tight and his breathing less measured than it had been before. A quick glance at him tells you that the head of his cock is deeply flushed, almost purple with need. 

It makes your clit throb, the tension building in your belly as your toes start to curl. You’re close, so very close to cumming while Jack listens to you. Biting your lip, another few swipes of your fingers against your clit while you watch yourself fuck on screen and your cumming. Crying out softly and digging your toes into Jack’s back while your legs push against him. Feeling your entire body lock up, eyes closing when you hear Jack groan. 

Panting, you relax and open your eyes, looking down to find that Jack’s head is hanging between his shoulder blades. Ropes of cum are splattered on the floor and you hum at the sight. Jack had just cum, untouched by this scene. 

Lifting your feet off his back, you plant them on the floor and lean forward after you pull your hand out of your pants. “If you come back, I’m going to use you as my chair.” You whisper, making him moan softly, looking up at you with a strange mixture of shame and curiosity in his eyes. It was a surprise that Jack was submissive for sure, but somehow, you have a feeling that he will come back to be your chair. 

[imtryingmybeskar]

Drabble 17 - Whiskey. Agent Whiskey x F! Reader.

Whiskey and you have managed to get yourselves captured and tied up. Irritating as he is, this is how you like him best.

Warnings for extremely mild dom/sub dynamics (I'm convinced Whiskey is a switch) and some light bondage. Word count: 718

The ancient radiator shrieks its displeasure as you work your wrists against it. Back and forth, a little more force, a little more room to manoeuvre with each pass...

"Chrissake, will you STOP wrigglin' woman?! You're worse than a rattlesnake in a burlap sack!"

You pause your efforts and snap your head to the left to look at your fellow prisoner, not bothering to hide the distain in your reply. "How the fuck would you even know what a snake in a sack moves like, Whiskey? Actually, wait. I don't care. Just keep quiet." He opens his mouth to retort, but you cut across him with a hiss. "Shut. Up. I think I can get free."

At that he does indeed shut up, and a small spark of hope enters his eyes. You resume your struggle, attempting to slip your hands out of the rope your captors had used to tie you up.

It was just your luck - this was your first assignment after a prolonged break and you were paired with quite possibly THE most irritating agent the Statesmen had ever produced. He had been needling you, questioning your abilities, your commitment, whether you were actually ready to be back in the field. Admittedly you had let him get under your skin, and when you had turned to angrily give him a piece of your mind the people you had been searching for had attacked, clubbing you both and affixing you to this rusty old radiator in some musty corner of a godforsaken warehouse. Thank goodness they had been overconfident and neglected to leave you with a guard.

They had tied Whiskey up with his own whip, but since you had no such flashy equipment upon you they had made do with what they could find. Which was a boon as it turned out because the rope they had resorted to was far too thick to be suitable for binding. The more you struggle, the more the rope loosens.

"Pathetic," you mutter as you wrench one arm free. "Oh not you," you add as you glance over at Whiskey's outraged expression. "Well...sometimes you. But I actually meant their knot tying abilities. Truly horrendous."

You free your other arm and stand, stretching out the cramps that had begun to set in in your limbs. When you look down at Whiskey again, some of the characteristic twinkle has reappeared in his eyes.

"And how would you know what constitutes good knot tyin' abilities?" he asks, throwing the inflection of your earlier question back at you.

The sexual undertone isn't in the least bit subtle, but you aren't about to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered, nor of allowing him to assert dominance. You move directly in front of him, stand either side of his outstretched legs so his face is pretty much level with your crotch and savour the bratty defiance in his eyes at your own unsubtle power play before you bend forward, both to whisper in his ear and to reach around him to yank hard on his whip-bindings. The fact that your breasts are now so close to his face that you can practically feel the warmth of his breath on them is an added bonus that gives you a little warm tingle in your abdomen.

"Oh, I like to be in charge," you purr, and silently delight in the way his big brown eyes grow wider and his tongue peeks out to wet his lip as you draw back again. "Speaking of," you continue brightly, your previous low and sensual tone now vanished, "Maybe I should just leave you here."

"Wai-what?" he splutters, his Texan twang featuring more heavily now he was under pressure. "You can't do that! Get me outta here!"

"Relax," you laugh. "I'm kidding. Though you do look good like this. Only thing that could make it better was if you were gagged too."

The effect of your words was immediate and bound as he was, Whiskey was unable to hide from your searching gaze. The flash of desire in his eyes. The slowly rising heat in his cheeks. The tightening at the front of his pants.

"Why Agent Whiskey," you smirked as you bent forward again, this time to free him. "Perhaps we should try this again sometime."

@thisshipwillsail316 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @elegantduckturtle @dihra-vesa @midwesternwitchery @just-here-for-the-moment @eri16 @readsalot73 @littlemisspascal @princessxkenobi @harriedandharassed @pagannightwitch @tentacruels @kirsteng42 @shirks-all-responsibilities

[ladyxskywalker]

AUG 2022 (part two)

fandoms featured on this list; moon knight, pedro pascal characters, misc./multi fandom 💫

thank you to the amazing fic writers for sharing some wonderful stories with all of us ! & to the kind readers for their support. 💙

please assume that all works & the blogs they belong to are 18+ only

mature adult content will be marked with a double asterisk **

be sure to check all warnings & tags before reading, feel free to skip if something isn't for you

& of course, enjoy responsibly

all the love xo A ☕

hope you enjoy ! & happy reading ! 🤗

please send me things to read ! favorite fics or something you've written that you're proud of ! 💌

find more monthly fic recs over on my masterlist, Sept 2022 coming soon ! ✨

please let me know if you would like to be removed

✨ new authors & characters added for the first time !

✨ some authors are mentioned more than once throughout the list, check to see if your works are there !

MOON KNIGHT

✨ Marc Spector

Bruises by @stevenngrant

✨ Steven Grant

Before and After by @marvelousmermaid (gn!reader) (pre/post breakup, nightmares, sad ending)

P.S. I love you! by @nowritingonthewall (steven, marc, gn!reader)

Prompt – patching up a wound by @magpie-to-the-morning **

PEDRO PASCAL

✨ Dave York

Still Worship, Desires and Complications by @ezrasbirdie (dave york x f!reader x marcus pike) (cw: mmf, daddy kink, injuries, adult content) **

✨ Ezra (Prospect)

Daze by @iamskyereads (slice of life) (domestic ezra universe) (prof!f!reader) (cw: children) **

In the Dark (series) by @frannyzooey (cw: age gap) (f!reader) **

Seven Tears (series) by @grogusmum (selkie!ezra) (f!reader) **

✨ Jack ‘Agent Whiskey’ Daniels

Sweet Thing by @clydesducktape (gn!reader) (cw: food mention)

✨ Javi Gutierrez

Art Imitating Life by @the-blind-assassin-12 (f!reader)

✨ Javier Peña

For You by @ezrasbirdie (f!reader) **

✨ Marcus Pike

Marcus Watching Antiques Roadshow Tipsy (imagine) by @youvebeenlivingfictional

Starting Over (series) by @wardenparker , & @absurdthirst (f!reader) (cw: pregnancy, divorce)

✨ Oberyn Martell

Oberyn and the Merling (series) by @grogusmum (merling!gn!reader) *

✨ Pero Tovar

I Won’t Give Up by @writeforfandoms (a/b/o au) (alpha!pero) (omega!f!reader) **

The Smell of Fresh Bread by @absurdthirst (f!reader)

✨ Misc. Pedro Pascal Characters

How Did You Love (series) by @writeforfandoms (f!reader)

MISC./MULTI FANDOM

✨ Alfred Pennyworth (The Batman)

None for You by @squidlywiddly87 (cw: age gap, dom/sub themes) (black!f!reader) **

Penny For Your Thoughts (series) by @eupheme (cw: age gap, daddy kink) (f!reader) **

Slip Into Your Skin by @stargirlfics (black!f!reader) **

✨ The Amazing Spider Man (Andrew Garfield)

Approach Shift (series) by @psithurista (f!reader) **

✨ Clyde Logan (Adam Driver, Logan Lucky)

Beautiful Eyes by @hopeamarsu (gn!reader) (cw: drink mention)

✨ Dragon Age

The Last Warlord: That Which is Valued Most (series) by BlueEyedBadger on ao3

✨ Flip Zimmerman (Adam Driver)

Can’t Wait to See You Glow by @hopeamarsu (f!reader)

Ember of a Dying Flame by @hopeamarsu (gn!reader) (cw: blood, injuries)

✨ Jim Hopper (Stranger Things)

Thots about Hopper by @letterfromvienna (cw: age gap) (f!reader) **

✨ Joel Miller (The Last of Us)

A Fascination by @iamskyereads (cw: age gap) (f!reader) **

First Watch by @the-blind-assassin-12 (cw: guns, violence, explosions, sex) *

Warmin’ Up by @pumpkin-stars (afab!reader) **

check out part one for more fic recs; star wars, rogue one, the mandalorian, & triple frontier

[wannab-urs]

Title: Trussed Up

Pairing: Jack Daniels x f!reader

Summary: The stress of being a Statesman Agent, especially one in charge of the entire New York operation, gets to Jack sometimes. When he needs release, he comes to you.

Tags: PEGGING!!! Smut, sex club stuff, dominatrix!reader, dom!reader, sub!Jack, BDSM stuff, everyone is up to date on their STD checks and birth control and such, brief mention of shibari, mommy kink!whiskey but he calls reader “Momma” and also ma’am, reader calls Jack baby, baby boy, and cowboy, rope bunny!Jack, bondage, hog tie (modified), butt plug, spanking, fingering (m receiving), begging, lots of check ins, several uses of  “good boy,” hand job (more so just teasing tbh), riding the cowboy, brief little gentle bite, unprotected PiV (but it’s about as safe as it can get… still don’t do that), creampie, aftercare, cuddling, unprofessional amounts of caring about your client.

A/N: My contribution to the PMAMC 2024! I'm so excited for this event AHHHHH. I hope you enjoy reading this half as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Jack Daniels Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

Jack inhales the familiar scent of leather and sweat as he steps up to the counter. After what felt like the longest mission of his life, he was finally back home, back here at The Playground, and back to you. The mission had gone fine, but it was a lot of waiting around, watching, all the boring parts of being a spy they don’t show in the James Bond movies. It was exhausting and tedious, and Jack is feeling all sorts of pent up. 

He flashes a grin at the receptionist, Ralphie, and winks at him. “Hey there, sugar.” The kid flushes and bites his lip. 

“Hiya Jack, nice to see you. Your usual lady tonight?” 

“Yes, please.” Jack doesn’t know if he’s ever been more excited to see someone as he is to see you. It’s been weeks since he last laid eyes on you and it’s driving him crazy. 

Jack takes the sign in tablet from Ralphie and fills out the forms, giving his girl a little info on what he’s here for tonight, confirming his STD test results are up to date, and checking that his yes and no list is still accurate. Ralphie waves Jack through when he’s done.

Jack heads through the Dungeon area – It’s dark and lit with red lights, but the space is so open it doesn’t really feel like a sex dungeon. There’s a shibari presentation tonight, a crowd gathered in front of the stage to watch a tall, beautiful woman tie intricate knots on her submissive. If it hadn’t been so long since his last visit, Jack might stay to watch. He’s fascinated by ropework, even if that’s a little cliche considering the cowboy thing. 

Jack heads down the hall and knocks on your door. Jack feels like he can’t breathe when he looks at you, you’re so damn gorgeous. Even after coming to you for years to get a bit of stress relief, he still isn’t used to how fuckin’ pretty you are. Tonight you’re wearing a black lace set that highlights all your curves and black thigh high boots. Classic, simple, but so fucking sexy. 

“Whiskey, baby, come in. I’ve missed you,” you smile, looking genuinely happy to see him. 

Jack steps into the room and closes the door behind him. The club’s rooms are nice – there’s a cupboard in the corner filled with any toy you can dream up (and take home with you after), a four poster bed in the center, shelves to keep your personal belongings on, a very comfortable chair in the corner, and even a mini fridge with water and snacks. 

“Hi, Momma. Missed you too.” Whiskey takes his hat off and sets it in the cubby by the door. He stands in front of you, arms behind his back and head slightly lowered, already slipping into a submissive pose for you. 

“Go ahead and fold your clothes up and put ‘em by the door while I get ready for you,” you say. You pull up his file on your tablet. “Feeling a little pent up, baby?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Jack answers over his shoulder as he folds his jeans. The mission left him tense, no big “release” at the end where he got to fight the bad guy. 

Your eyes linger on his muscled back and trail down to his perky butt before you go back to the tablet. You have the perfect idea to get him out of his head and so exhausted there’s not a tense muscle in his body. You go to the cupboard and take out a plug, a strap with a thick dildo, a bottle of lube, and a couple lengths of rope. You lay everything out on the bedside table and then stand in front of Jack, cradling his face in your hands. 

“Alright, baby. I’m gonna have you get on your stomach on the bed. I’m gonna open you up for me and put a plug in you to keep you that way.” Jack flushes, but doesn’t try to hide his excitement. “I’m gonna tie you up, arms and legs, and I’m gonna spank you. If you come, that’s okay, but I won’t touch your cock.” You see a flash of a pleading look before Jack schools his features. “Then I’m gonna untie your legs, and I’m gonna fuck you so hard there’s no thoughts left in that pretty little head. And finally, if you keep yourself from coming while I fuck you, you get a reward.” Before you can even finish asking if he consents to all of that, Jack is nodding his head and grinning. 

“Words, baby boy.” 

“Yes, ma’am. I consent.”

“Good boy. What’s your safeword?” 

“Coca-cola”

“Good. On the bed, baby.” 

Jack strides over to the bed and lays flat on his stomach, face buried in a pillow and legs splayed out behind him. You stand by the bed and start by running your fingers through his hair. It’s gotten a little long, there’s curls at the base of his neck, and you give it a gentle tug. He groans and nuzzles his face into the pillow. 

You trail your fingers along his neck, down his sides, to his ass. His little butt is so cute. You squeeze his ass cheeks and pull them apart, exposing his hole to the air. You hear him suck in a breath, feel his body tense up in anticipation. “Relax,” you command gently. The tension leaves his body. 

You climb up on the bed, sitting between Jack’s spread thighs, and grab the bottle of lube. You pour some into your palm, letting it warm up before you coat three fingers. You tease him for a moment, brushing over his sensitive hole, before pushing your first finger all the way in to the knuckle. Jack keens and tries to thrust back toward you, but you place a hand on the small of his back and push him back into the mattress. 

“Be still, baby.”

“Yes ma’am,” Whiskey sounds desperate already and you’ve barely started. You pump your finger a few times before adding a second. As soon as his body is relaxed around you, you curl your fingers, finding the spot inside him you know will have him hanging on by a thread. 

“Fuck, momma, please,” Jack whines, trying to rut into the mattress. He sounds so pretty when he’s begging.

“Momma’s gonna take care of her cowboy, baby, just be patient.” You pull your fingers out of him and grab the plug. You coat it in lube before slowly pushing it inside him. It’s a lot thicker than just two of your fingers, but he can handle it. He moans into the pillow, hips thrusting as much as you’ll allow him to. 

You grab the rope off the bedside table. “Alright, baby, I’m gonna tie you up now.” You take his hands behind his back and secure them with the rope. “Feel okay?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Whiskey sounds a little breathless. 

“Good boy. You’re doing so good for me.” You get off the bed and bend his legs up behind him, tying his ankles together. The motion pushes the plug deeper inside him, and he lets out a strangled moan. You take the final length of rope and use it to connect his ankles to his wrists without actually tying them together. 

“Everything feel okay, baby? Nothing pulling too hard?”

“Perfect, momma. Feels good,” Jack pants.

“Look so pretty all trussed up for me, cowboy,” you stroke your hand through his hair and drop a kiss to the back of his head. You stand back beside his legs and tap on his plug a couple times, just to watch him squirm, then you drop a light smack on his right ass cheek. He lets out a filthy moan. You alternate cheeks for a few slaps before dropping one right over his hole. 

“Fuck! Please, momma. Please.” You don’t think he even knows what he’s begging for at this point, rutting into the mattress as much as he can. You’re kind of dying to see how hard he is right now, but it’s not time for that yet. You also hope he doesn’t come before you can give him – and yourself – a reward. 

“Doing so good for me, baby. You want me to fuck you? Is that what you’re begging Momma for?” 

“Yes ma’am. Please.” You untie his legs and lower them to the bed gently, rubbing the place the ropes dug into his skin.

“On your knees, sugar,” you order him, helping him lift his hips and climb to his knees since his arms are still tied behind his back. You stand back to admire him. His skin is flushed, red from his cheeks down his chest. His ass has your handprint on it. His biceps are straining against the tie and his very defined back muscles look incredible. His cock is hanging thick and heavy between his legs. He’s gotta be the most beautiful person out of all your clients. “You look gorgeous, baby boy.” 

“Thank you, momma.” Jack sounds out of it, half-gone out of his mind, and really you’ve barely done anything yet. You strip off your boots and lingerie, wanting to feel his skin against yours without any barriers. You put on your strap and coat it in lube before climbing up on the bed behind him. You reach under him and grab his leaking cock in your left hand, stroking up and down slowly, and he shudders. You pull the plug out of him with your free hand and toss it on the ground to deal with later. You continue stroking him slowly as you line up behind him. 

Thanks to all the prep, you slip right inside him with very little resistance. Gliding smoothly in about halfway.

“Wait! Momma wait, ‘m gonna come, please, wait.” You squeeze the base of his cock to keep him from coming and halt the forward push of your hips. 

“You don’t wanna come, baby?” you tease.

“No, momma. Want my reward.”

“Good boy.” You give him another couple moments to calm down, then you grab the rope tying his hands together and slowly pull him back on your fake cock. Jack whines again and you smile down at him. You pull back slowly and then push back into him, setting a hard and fast pace. You want him to forget his own name. You angle your hips slightly, searching for the place that’ll make him scream. 

“Oh fuck, Momma, right there.” 

“Good boy.” 

You keep up the pace, slamming into his prostate over and over until he’s babbling nonsense into the mattress. Just when you think he might come untouched, you pull out of him. He collapses forward onto the bed, completely boneless. Mission accomplished. 

You untie his wrists and slowly move his arms to his sides, massaging the sore muscles. “You did so good, baby boy. I’m so proud of you,” you praise him as you dig your fingers into his shoulder muscles. “Flip over for me, baby.” 

Jack groans and pushes himself over onto his back, his hard cock laying flush against his cute little belly. You lean forward and press a kiss to his lips. “Ready for your reward, baby?” 

“Yes ma’am. Thank you,” he looks up at you with his big brown eyes, seeming completely relaxed despite being held on the edge of coming for a long time. 

You take the strap off and toss it on the floor with the plug. You’re absolutely soaked, almost deliriously turned on from fucking the gorgeous man below you. You take his cock in your hand gently and stroke it a few times before settling over top of it. You slowly lower yourself onto him, groaning at the stretch. It doesn’t matter how turned on you are, Jack Daniels is a lot to take. 

“You can– fuck – you can touch me, baby. Please touch me.” Jack doesn’t hesitate. He wraps one arm around your waist and takes your breast in the other hand, massaging it gently. 

“So fuckin’ pretty, momma. Look so good on top of me like this.” You bounce up and down on his length, head falling back and eyes rolling into the back of your head. You can already feel your core tightening around him. 

“Feel so good, Jack. Fuck me. Make yourself come,” you’re breathless, moaning at how good he feels inside you. He pulls you forward and crashes your mouths together, bending his knees and planting his feet on the bed before starting to thrust into you.

The angle is perfect, the hair at the base of his cock rubbing your clit on every roll of his hips while he hits your g-spot on every thrust. You moan into his mouth as you come apart on top of him, your cunt pulsing around him rapidly. You drop your head to his shoulder and bite down gently as he fucks you through the aftershocks. 

“Come for me, baby boy. Fill me up,” you whisper in his ear. He snaps his hips into you one more time and stills as hot spurts of cum fill your insides. You feel him go completely rigid underneath you for a long moment before he collapses down into the mattress, wrapping his arms around you and going limp. 

You’re out of breath as you lean up, kissing his prominent nose, his forehead, and then his lips softly. “You did so good for me, baby. So fucking good. Let me get us cleaned up, okay?” 

He nods weakly, eyes closed and chest heaving from the exertion. You roll off the bed and get a towel from the en suite, cleaning yourself up before heading to the fridge to get him a bottle of water. You clean him up carefully and then make him sit up and drink the water. While he does that, you grab the toys off the floor and take them to the bathroom to clean before you send them home with him. 

You climb into the bed, sitting with your back against the headboard. “Lay in my lap, baby.” 

Jack scoots down the bed and lays his head in your lap. You stroke his hair until he falls asleep, looking down at him and thinking about how much you care for him. Sweet, strong, gorgeous man. You’re so grateful he lets you take care of him, take some of the weight off those broad shoulders. You scoot down until your head is on the pillows and fall asleep with Jack in your arms. 

dividers by @saradika