PEDRO PASCAL IMAGINES

Mine For a Day (Agent Whiskey x reader)

„Alright, darlin', since I'll be your master for tomorrow, you have to be at my place at six in the morning with breakfast. Then we'll take it from there!" Whiskey smirked and you already knew how tomorrow was going to go. Crossing your arms, you rolled your eyes and rose from your chair.

"Come on, doll, don't look so cross! It's going to be fun!" He called after you when you left the room.

"Fun," you scoffed and grabbed your things, ready to leave. There was no way for you to gain any fun from being Whiskey's slave for one day. He would shamelessly take advantage of the situation and make you do annoying, tedious things- that you were sure off.

Come six a clock the next morning you were on his doorstep, coffee and bagels in your hand. Whiskey opened the door dressed in nothing but a towel around his narrow hips.

Oh dear.

"Good morning, sweetheart, come on in!" He beamed and stepped aside to let you pass. It was weird being in his house, especially with him wearing this. You didn't mind him being topless, frankly it was an admirable sight, still it was uncomfortable and felt rather inappropriate.

"I'll go and get dressed, make yourself comfy in the kitchen. Unless you want to help me back in the bedroom?" He rose an eyebrow at you and when you didn't reply, he winked and wandered off to get changed.

You sighed and slumped down on one of the bar stools in his kitchen. You hadn't been to his place before, it was impossibly tidy and you were relieved you didn't have to clean up after him- most bachelor's flats weren't as clean as him.

Whiskey entered the kitchen in his signature outfit and grabbed the coffee and bagels on his way to the door, "let's get going!"

You followed him, that was one of the rules for today. Wherever he went- you did. Whatever he requested- you had to do.

The day went on with him being all himself in his flirty, cheeky way. From making copies of random papers to running silly errands or getting him lunch, everything was fine with you. Still, you minded a lot how he always smirked at you, perfectly knowing how much you wanted to argue or talk back but weren't allowed. He was loving it. He had a woman completely in his control.

Agent Tequila paid you a visit after lunch, raising an eyebrow at Whiskey, "Hey there, do you mind if I borrow Y/N for a minute? I need help with somethin'," Tequila inquired and you were on your feet in an instant, happy about a change of tasks.

Whiskey however was not amused. He wrapped an arm around your waist and shook his head at Tequila, "no way, man. She's mine today. Get someone else's help," he growled and you found it funny how jealous he reacted.

"Oh come on, Jack, you could've let me go with him," you rolled your eyes when Tequila was gone.

"Uh-uh, darlin', rules are rules," he winked, sitting back down on his desk. Sighing, you returned to sorting his books by publishing year and author. You caught Whiskey glancing over at you regularily and smiled to yourself. He could be quite charming.

In the afternoon, when you were counting the hours until this would be over, he requested something different.

"Come here, darlin', my tired back could use a massage," Whiskey cheered and beckoned you over with his finger. He shrugged of his denim jacket and placed his hat on his desk.

You positioned yourself behind him and got to work, your fingers starting to gently massage his shoulders. When you realized how tensed his back was, you increased the pressure of your palms.

Whiskey let out a groan at this and let his head drop back so it rested against your stomach.

"Mhm, your hands are angelic," he muttered with closed eyes. Seeing how relaxed he was made you smile. The feeling of his firm, muscled shoulders and back under your hands aroused you, to your surprise.

An occasional sigh left Whiskey's lips as you worked your magic for a couple of more moments, the sounds he made could have easily been mistaken for noises from other situations.

"Neck too, please, sweetheart," he hummed and opened the first two buttons of his shirt, revealing this neck and collarbone. You bit your lip at the sight, a strong man's chest had always been a weakness of yours. The tension of Whiskey's muscles gradually lessened, silent moans escaped from him at your actions, especially when your fingers cautiously slid into his shirt at his neck to ease every possible pain.

Reluctantly, he lifted his head and slowly turned around to face you. Without a word he took both your hands in his and placed kisses on each of them.

"Thank you, I really enjoyed your divine massage," he remarked. The sensation of his moustache tickling your skin sent a shiver down your spine.

"Right," Whiskey checked the time on the big clock in his office, "enough work for today!" He rose from his seat and slipped back into his jacket. You let out a deep breath of relief that this would mean the end of slavery.

"Great, I'll see you around then," you mumbled. Whiskey threw you a confused look.

"Uh-uh, sweetheart, the day is not over! Until midnight we agreed!"

The naughty smirk on his face was annoying you, yet you were gradually enjoying his company, despite the bossyness.

"Come on!"

You chuckled softly and followed him.

"What happens now?" You asked when you sat next to him in his car. Amused, he looked over at you.

"You'll see," he replied without commenting on it any further.

Not knowing what would happen was something nearly unbearable for your impatient nature. Whiskey however seemed to enjoy it a lot.

He parked the car somewhere in town, climbed out of it and before you knew it he had opened the door for you. At this you were impressed.

Still not giving any explanation whatsoever, Whiskey lead you into what seemed to be an Italian restaurant. The waiter greeted him with a hug and you followed him to a secluded table by the window.

"Sit down," Whiskey guestured towards the chair when you just stood there, confused. He pulled the chair back and you took a seat.

"What is this?" You muttered with a big question mark on your face. The waiter lit up two candles and poured red wine into wine glasses.

When he was gone, Whiskey finally explained.

"This is dinner, darlin'. You see, this whole day was really geared towards you having dinner with me. Because I knew if I'd asked you, you would've said no. But today, you're only allowed to say yes."

You stared at him in disbelief for a brief moment, then couldn't stop the corners of your mouth turn into a smile. This was Agent Whiskey at his best.

"And by the way, doll, if we reach my place before midnight, we might as well be able to continue this day's concept in my bedroom. Just sayin'," he whispered with a devious smirk lingering on his lips.

To this, you said nothing. You'd make your answer conditional on his behaviour during dinner. But you were definitely considering his offer.