Ghosts

You Ain’t Woman Enough

Frankie Morales x Reader

Word Count: just under 4400

Tags: Pining, Fake Dating because Frankie has an annoying coworker, cursing, my roughly unedited terrible writing, I don’t think there’s anything else?

A/N: Okay, y’all. I wrote a thing. It literally would not have been finished without the constant support of @rzrcrst​. I’m just going to put this here and yeet myself into the void. Let me know what you think. Or not, it’s whatever. Gif credit to @pascalplease​ (let me know if you don’t want your gif used, sweetie)

The bar was crowded and loud, but you still heard Frankie’s quiet curse as he pulled his cap further down over his eyes.

“You good, Frankie?” you asked with a nudge of your shoulder.

He huffed and curled in on himself more. “You remember me telling you about that girl I work with? The one who works the gate?”

How could you not? He had complained about Kelly almost as long as you’d known him. 

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Burnt out // Rex x Reader

For the person who requested the breakup imagine, Tumblr ate your request: 

Rex x Fem!Reader

Trigger Warning: Breakup

“We were a perfect match. Maybe that’s why we burned out.”

It started subtly. Rex didn’t call or message as much when he was away. Whereas he used to call every chance he got, you were now lucky to receive a short message saying, “sorry can’t talk, I’m ok.”

No, ‘see you soon’ or ‘I love you’ attached, but you brushed it off thinking, maybe it’s just a long mission or he’s just really busy. Then it leaked into his mannerisms when he was home, he would spend more time are the barracks and fewer times with you. When he was with you, it was awkward and tense. Comfortable silences were replaced with tense ones. Little things that used to seem cute to him, now left him frustrated or annoyed. He used to love how you hummed while you cleaned and how your feet shuffled when you woke up. Now, instead of small smiles, you were met with:

“(Y/N), I’m sorry, but I could really use some quiet.” and “Pick up your feet, the entire building can hear you.”

So, you made the adjustments, no realizing how you stopped feeling completely comfortable around him. And then you realized, the same thing was happening to you. You used to think it was adorable how he stole blankets, and how he didn’t help with dishes because he never learned how. Now, it drove you up the wall.  This was how you felt on first dates and when you have important house guests, not how you should feel around the person who you were in love with. Sometimes, it seemed like y’all would argue about nothing. Nights of snippy comments because someone left the light on. When you kissed him goodbye, he didn’t kiss back. Honestly, you didn’t know what happened to the two of you, but nevertheless, you waited for it to blow over. 

Then, one fateful night, in an effort to not spend another tense night on the couch, not actually watching the news, y’all agreed to go to 79′s with the rest of the 501st. That’s when it made sense. 

The two of you walked in, and when you looked up at him, he had that look of awe that he used to reserve only for you. But now, you watched him throw it across the room at an all too familiar togruta. That’s when you understood. He had fallen in love with someone else, and out of love with you. You spent the entire night deep in unhappy thought, but Rex never noticed- only occasionally ordering you more drinks, not noticing the four other still full glasses in front of you. He was too busy laughing at Ahsoka’s jokes. And God bless, you tried to hate her, but she was so nice and amazing, it was impossible to be mad at her. And it was hard to be mad at Rex for falling for her.  So now you were sitting in a booth, just sad. 

Finally, you had enough and you asked Fives and Echo to let you out of the booth. They both flashed you looks of concern, but you gave them a small smile of reassurance. You were almost out of the door when Rex finally noticed you left. 

“She looked upset- you might wanna check up on her.” Echo suggested, watching the Captain crane his neck around to look for you. “She headed towards the door.”

“Yeah, Yeah, I’ll do that.” With that, he squeezed out of the booth and went out to find you. You were already a block away when he caught up with you. 

“(Y/N), what’s wrong, you left by yourself?” He asked, but made no move to grab your hand or hug you like he once might have. You sighed and crossed your arms, putting on a brave face. 

“Surprised you noticed. That you came.” You shrugged, it wasn’t snappy or accusatory, but just defeated. Rex knew what was coming.

“Of course, I came. (Y/N), what’s this about?” He was already puffing up for a fight, but you had left the ring a few hours ago. 

“Rex you’re not in love with me anymore. It’s obvious. And it’s ok, but please tell me so I can find someone who does love me like you did.” It came out as a plea, and Rex realized what you meant. His muscles tensed up defensively. 

“That’s not fair, (Y/N).” Was all he said, he eyes weren’t soft like usual. You shook your head and gave him a stare just as hard. 

“No. It’s completely fair.” You started, arms unfolding from your chest do gesture wildly, “Rex, if you’re still completely in love with me- like you were in the beginning- then please, help me work this out. But if not, then it’s unfair for both of us.”

Where there were once soft words and promises of forever, there were crossed arms, harsh words, and shattered promises. Rex knew this and only admitted it by letting his gaze drop to the ground. 

“I’m sorry.” It was soft and sincere and for the first time in a while, he actually looked sad to see you go. You just nodded, praying the tears would stay in until you were gone. 

“Ok then,” You paused and sniffled, Rex knew it wasn’t his place to wrap his arms around you anymore, but he always hated seeing you cry, “Take care of yourself, Rex.”

Rex watched you walk away for the last time, and just like that, it was over.  

Two months later: 

You spent quite a few weeks crying over him, but eventually, things got easier. Fives and Echo were the only ones who kept in touch with you, and they checked up on you, but you never saw Rex again. Soon, You started going on dates, or more accurately your best friends forced you on dates. Some of them were ok, and some of them were hilariously bad, but no one was quite like Rex. But you kept going on, and eventually, life was close to normal again- even if your apartment was quieter and colder than it once was. 

But occasionally, you would run into some of the older members of the 501st. You would flash a friendly smile and wave, but turn around and walk the other way to avoid an awkward conversation. They would wave back, remembering when their captain was so in love with you that he couldn’t think straight. Then, you realized when you lost Rex, you also lost a lot of amazing friends. Soon inside jokes turned into awkward waves and those turned into pretending you didn’t see them. 

And even worse, occasionally you’d catch a glimpse of someone who looked strikingly like Rex and your heart would stop. Then you would realize, this trooper had green armor and a similar haircut. But that didn’t stop the memories of love and laughter of the good times when you felt more love from a man worlds away, but it also tore open the wounds of the bad times, when you felt the loneliest when he was lying right beside you. 

After the war:

It might have seemed dramatic, but four months after the breakup, you decided to move. You chose one of the more developed planets in the outer rim and found work rather easily. No more Rex, no more memories, a fresh start, and it went well. 

But even then, when the war was over and the Empire rose from its ashes, rumors of the Jedi and the clones swirled and demanded to be heard- even in the outer rim. And every now and then, you couldn’t help but wonder what did happen to Rex, because somewhere in your heart you still loved him and always would. 

Lucasfilm did not fire Gina Carano from The Mandalorian for being Transphobic:

She got fired for being Anti-Semitic.

Her being Transphobic is not at all okay either but,

Anti-Semitism is not talked about enough.

She basically just compared Holocaust victims to being a Republican. Do you realize how fucked up that is?!

I’m Jewish. I really don’t like when someone compares the genocide of 6 million of my people to being a Republican. When was the last time 6 million Republicans were murdered via gas chambers?

People need to know that this was why she got fired. Don’t you dare just like this post!

REBLOG IT

ghosts

—CHAPTER THREE: happy

pairing: Javier Peña x f! reader

previous part | next part | masterlist 

a/n: okay wow, this was at 3k when I promised it two weeks ago and now it’s 5.7k. just a slight continuity warning: this whole series is kind of a ‘fuck you’ to the narcos timeline bc I can’t remember when they were in Medellin or when Connie left and came back all relative to everything happening with Carrillo so don’t hate me, I’m going to make it work out I think

also just a general thought – to everyone who responded so well to the last two parts, your enthusiasm is what made me get this part done and edited, tell your fav authors you love them whenever you get the chance ! it makes a difference :)))

The day had been sort of a daze. 

By the time the sun had set gently behind the horizon, muting the sunlit sky into hues of lavender, you were already a few drinks deep, laying back on the front steps of the complex. Time was passing, the seconds turning to minutes, turning to hours, playing out so beautifully in the sky overhead with clouds and colors floating, changing with every breath, and you weren’t moving. You just couldn’t find the energy. 

Not to take a picture, not to flip through the diligently kept journal in your lap, not to do a damn thing but drink. It wasn’t a solution but at this point, it didn’t seem like it could do any more damage. 

The lavender grew darker. The soft orange of the streetlamps ignited up and down the length of the barely busy street. Windows that had previously welcomed the temperate afternoon breeze shut to the aching chill that blew in with the gradual fall of the blanket of dusk over the city. Glasses and bottles clinked with a cheer of ‘salud’ in the small restaurant down the street, couple’s arguments behind closed doors leaking into the street, the roar of a motorcycle’s engine being cut short as the chastising slap of a mother knocked the poor boy in the adjacent alley out of his confident bluff. All the little things. 

It was always the little things. 

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*sweeps all of my AU ideas under the rug* why must I be called out this way?

(Idk why I thought this but I think it’s funny) Imagine din and reader going back to visit Karga for a job and reader is a apparent heart throb to most of the villagers (not that she knows) and like “hi mrs. Parker” Friday style, these women are see them walking by going “hi Reader~” with cara teasing of reader the whole time having to tell the ladies that reader is already taken with din.

A/N: you are my very first  request, so i decided to do a full, bonifide one shot! thank you so very much!! 🥰💕💕

oddly enough, din doesn’t show his bucket in this until the very end. 💀 it became really cara-centric for some reason. hope that’s okay! 😖

also, the trope of “everyone collectively loves person, but person is so utterly oblivious to it” is, without fail, one of the funniest bits any piece of media can pull lmao.

hope you enjoy! 💗

content: references of sex (kinda), saucy language, gender neutral!reader (my first time writing a gn reader 😲), reader being completely “no thoughts head empty” type of oblivious, cara just brutally teasing reader, soft!din makes an appearance!, cara is also kinda a bisexual icon???

word count: 1,775

“... What do you mean?” 

Cara looks at you strange. She searches your face for a few seconds longer, eyebrows furrowed, trying to see if you’re serious. 

“Are you fucking with me?” She deadpans evenly, and you tilt your head slightly, blinking. You slowly shake your head, raising an eyebrow.

“No...?” You drag out the word and Cara barks a sudden, loud laugh at your genuine confusion, tossing back her head as she does. She straightens up in her seat, still chuckling lightly, and picks up her glass of spotchka. Cara leans against the backrest, draping her free arm over it.

“You’re really not fucking with me, huh?” She mutters with a grin, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a low, long sip, her eyes not leaving yours. You frown, puzzled.

“Cara, I have no ide—"

“Everyone wants to fuck you.” Cara interrupts and it takes a moment for the blunt, vulgar words to register, but when they do you feel heat rise in your cheeks. You visibly recoil, sputtering out an answer.

“I— What are— There's no—” All Cara does as you fumble over your words, getting more and more red in the face, is shrug, an easy grin on her face.

“Yeah, everyone wants to get in your pants, can’t say I blame ‘em.” Her grin turns downright predatory and it gives you the final push to spit out a reply.

“WHAT?” The word comes out incredulous and far louder that you had meant, causing you to cringe at the sound of your voice reverberating in the cantina. People glance over at you and you give the crowd a sheepish, nervous smile. Thankfully, everyone turns back to whatever they were doing, no questions asked. Then your head whips back to Cara, whose all smug-looking, to shoot her a glare. Your face is positively burning, and you just know she can see it.

“Are you fucking with me?” You throw her own question back at her, but it falls flat because all it does is grow the shit-eating grin that’s plastered on Cara’s face. She shrugs, gesturing around lazily to the room at large.

“Jax, the Rodian over there, gives you puppy dog eyes, Kol and Zaltor— the Trandoshans, not the Togrutas, by the way— look at your ass every time they get, that pink Twi’lek gal over there practically fawns over you— think her names’ Numa or Nima or something, the Duros over there...”

Cara continues listing off more and more names, and with each one (some who you know and have spoken to) you feel yourself getting more and more flustered. You sink low in your chair, staring wide eyed into your spotchka, hands on your temples.

“Good Maker.” You groan, placing your hands over your face and slumping onto the table. Cara (finally) stops listing literally the entire population of the village and gazes at you quizzically. She tilts her head.

“Don’t like being the sex idol of the town?” She teases and you groan again, louder this time. You glare up at her through your fingers, still furiously blushing. Oh, how you wish Din was here to beat the snot out of Miss Dune...

“No. This is a nightmare.” You growl out, going back to digging your face into the table, hoping the sandstone would just swallow you whole. Before Cara can reply, a new voice sounds up.

“U-Um, hi.” You stiffen and turn your head to the side to see two Twi’leks, one taller than the other, standing next to the table. They seem a bit nervous, fidgeting with their lekku and rocking on their feet, but something tells you they’re here for... something. The moment you meet Cara’s gaze, your face blanches.

“Kill me now.”

“Hey, pretty ladies.”

You groan and Cara flirts at the exact same time, Cara’s strong voice unfortunately gaining the upper hand. Both Twi’lek giggle, and the taller of the two, the lavender skinned one, flutters her eyelashes. Even more unfortunately, you make eye contact with her. She flushes when you meet her gaze.

“O-Oh my— Stars, um hi!” She and her companion devolve into giggles again and you force yourself to sit up. Giving them a forced smile, you rest your hands under your chin and elbows on the table.

“Hello. What can I do for you?” You ask through gritted teeth, attempting to keep your strained voice relatively nice, while also fighting back both the blush that’s still on your cheeks and the urge to shoot Cara with your blaster. Thankfully, the Twi’leks have gotten over the apparent “meeting their idol” giggles, because now the shorter one places a dusty tan hand on the table and leans in. A bright, stunning smile spreads across her face, but something flirty burns in her eyes.

“Mm. Me and my sister here have just been seeing you around so often.” She says, voice a obviously practiced mix of playfully coy and feigning ignorance. You glance from her, to her lavender sister, then to Cara. And your luck must really be in the gutters, or maybe Cara just wants to torture you—or both— but the mercenary only offers you a grin, lifts her spotchka to her lips, and sips. Your hands curl into fists.

“Yeah, I—” 

“You’re talking to Mando’s squeeze, babes.” Cara interrupts yet again and all three sets of eyes land on her. Two of them moon-eyed and incredulous if not also disappointed, one of them so embarrassed that Carasynthia Dune, you are a dead woman—

“Really?” The lavender Twi'lek’s eyes are so blown wide you almost think they’d roll out of her head. Her sister looks just as awestruck, and both look a tad bit fearful. You go to speak, but Cara (you’re really starting to hate her) opens her mouth again and beats you to the cut.

“Mm hm. Y’all are hitting on the Mando’s sweetheart. Pretty bold, honestly, he’s real protective over this one.” The blush you put all your hard work into smothering returns full force at Cara’s words, and the Twi’leks start looking a bit flustered themselves, though for another reason.

“So sorry!” The lavender one breaks first and goes running off to a Rodian and Zabrak sitting at a far table. She leans in close, seeming to whisper something into their ears, and suddenly all three of them are looking at you with a strange mix of disappointment, lust, and fear. You hastily look away and hide your face behind your hand.

“Aw. Shame.” The tan Twi’lek purses her lips, pushing herself off the table, and you begrudgingly force yourself to look at her. She gives you that stunning smile again and winks.

“You know I’m here for you.” She says and sashays off to where her sister is. Across the room, she gives you another wink and flutters her fingers. Pretty sure that all your bloods’ in your face, you turn to Cara, slowly.

“Cara.” You say her name lowly, looking her dead in the eye. She’s grinning, and blows a lock of her hair out of her face. She feigns an unassuming, innocent look, but both you and her know better.

“Yeah?” She’s walking on thin ice and she knows it, but you also know she’s never been afraid of risk.

“I’m going to kill you.” You say, coming across as deadly serious as you possibly can. Cara’s grin widens, her eyes twinkling, and she downs the last of her spotchka.

“I know,” She starts and she shrugs, “But you know I couldn’t resist.”

You want to reach over and smack her a good one, but a voice alerts you to a certain someone at your side.

“Hey.” Din’s low, modulated voice gentle pulls your attention to him and you turn your head to look up at your silver-clad lover. Even with the dark T-visor, you know exactly where to look to find those soft, doe eyes beneath it. A small smile creeps across your face.

“Hey.” You reply and he offers a hand to you, which you gladly accept. Like always, his hand is large and warm and strong, and it makes you feel completely at peace. Din helps you up to your feet, settling you close, but not too close, to his side. 

“I got the next few pucks, and the kid’s already in the Crest, so we’re ready to head out...” Din trails off and tilts his head, and you can feel his curious gaze roam your face. 

“Your face is... pretty flushed. Are you feeling okay?” He asks it so gently and sweetly, his gloved hand still holding yours, that it’s almost enough to make you forget why your all disheveled in the first place. Letting out a forced, somewhat breathy laugh, you pull your hand away to cross your arms over your chest.

“Um, yeah, yeah— I’m good.” You assure him, but Din knows you so he turns his attention on Cara, whose sprawl in her seat, looking like a satisfied loth cat.

“What did you do?” He asks, keeping his voice neutral, but there’s a hint of that good ol’ Din Protectiveness seeping in too. Part of you celebrates that Din’s finally here to beat up Cara, but all the other parts of you just want to hop on back the Razor Crest and get the Hell out of here. Cara lazily raises her hands in mock surrender, tilting her head into her shoulder.

“Just playing, that’s all.” She replies, eying your spotchka from across the table. She and Din are in some type of staring match even as she reaches and snags your drink. You don’t care enough to protest. Din stares at Cara for a few seconds longer before he shifts on his feet and turns back to you.

“Ready to go, cyare?” His voice is like warm like sunshine, and it makes your entire being light up. You nod and smile, uncrossing your arms to grab his hand. His thick fingers close around yours, encasing your hand in his.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” You reply as you both start walking, tethered to one another by the most sacred link you can while in public. Din and you walk side by side, a Mandalorian and his beloved, through the cantina and out the door.

Cara watches you leave, then looks around at all the inhabitants of the cantina who had also watched you and the Mando leave hand-in-hand. She nearly laughs at all the looks of disappointment. You really were the village heart throb.

And as Cara downs the last of her (your) spotchka, she ponders,

Dammit. Wish it was me instead of Mando.

Meet-Snark

In a Universe Far, Far Away - Part 2 | Part 1 |

Pairing: Din Djarin x Earthling fem!reader Warnings: Crack fic (that is now going to have some narrative and character driven meat lmao), 2000s/2010s fanfic tropes, some language, not canon compliant but that is the point, Please note: this is set right before the Finale Episode and contains general spoilers for Episode 7 Words: 1.3k Tags: Humor, chaos, uncanny valley, unexplained “magic”, reader is tired cranky and bratty

Well, things could be worse, you supposed.

Sure, you were still currently in your pajamas, but someone had found an extra pair of shoes that were close enough to your shoe size. You had no idea whose they might have been, but it was nice to not have freezing toes.

Even after deciding that you were probably not a spy or an assassin, you had been given a brisk pat-down and then handcuffed. Of course, there hadn’t been much of anything to find. You didn’t even have your damn cell phone on you. But what added insult to injury? Your cheese had been confiscated.

Thankfully, you had been able to convince them to not toss it out and instead put it in their fridge — or the conservator as they called it. It would’ve been sad to have just lost it after all.

That all had been some hours ago, everyone being mostly alright to ignore you so long as you didn’t make any sudden moves. They had bigger issues to deal with at the moment than try to figure you out.

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For your 100 follower requests: "More please" first kiss scenario with Tovar or Whiskey. WRITER'S CHOICE.

Alright this turned into something way bigger than I had planned. This sits at 2.7k. Don't ask me where the actual idea came from, I have no idea.

Also, I want you to know, I wrote the ENTIRE SCENE with the goats and then went "...I should make sure she likes goats."

Jack Daniels x f!reader. Meet cute at a county fair. No warnings, this is all cute fluff with kissing.

Without further ado, I present to you:

She Moves Through the Fair

You were standing off to the side of the crowds, by the animal housing. Your friend was 20 minutes late so far, which wasn’t like her. You’d texted her ten minutes ago to check in.

Finally, your phone buzzed.

Hey so sorry I forgot we were supposed to go today I can’t make it

You groaned out loud at that. Great. So now you were on your own at the county fair. You’d already paid the entrance fee, so you might as well stay now. This was not how you’d expected your day to go.

“Everything alright?”

You jumped, turning towards the voice. A man had come up behind you, hands stuck in the pockets of his jeans. He was wearing a black Stetson. Your lips twitched against your will.

“I’m fine,” you told him. “Just a change of plans, is all.”

“You need any help?” The man offered you a little smile, brown eyes warm.

“No, thank you. I think I’m going to go pet some goats and… figure something out.” You shrugged.

His eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Figure something out? Are you here alone?”

“Yes,” you answered reluctantly.

“Well, I’d say I’m sorry, but this means I get a chance to escort a pretty lady today.” He smiled at you. “My own company found someone else to run around with, so I seem to be unattached for the day.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. He didn’t flinch, just waiting patiently. Well, he was handsome, that was for sure. Seemed to have manners. And if needed, you could definitely get away from him – this was a county fair, not a private event. There was security around. And if you kicked up a fuss, you’d get bystander support.

“Sure,” you agreed. “Why not. You might get bored, though.”

“I’ll be bored on my own, so if that happens, at least I’ll be bored in lovely company.” He winked at you, almost over the top, and smiled when you giggled. “I’m Jack, by the way.”

You gave him your name and shook his hand, amused.

“I believe you said something about goats?” Jack grinned at you, motioning you to go first. You nodded and headed for the nearest animal housing area, perking up a bit. Sheep over here. That was fine. You patted every sheep that came up to the fence, saying hi to each one. Jack kept pace with you and, to your surprise, he also chatted easily with the sheep. Mostly he snuck sly little comments about the “beautiful lady” he was with, making you grin every time.

“You’re quite a flirt,” you told him once the two of you finally reached the goats. “I think these guys will appreciate it more than the sheep, though.”

Jack threw his head back and laughed at that, bright and full-bellied. “You think so, huh?”

“Well, the goats are more active, usually,” you pointed out, as one headbutted your hand for attention. “Although if I were you I’d save the sweet talking for the pygmy goats, those things are too damn cute.”

“Favorites of yours, I take it?” Jack asked, leaning down a bit to pet a lazy goat who bleated at him without actually getting up.

“If I could, I would have like three of those,” you told him. “They’re so cute. And they’re a more manageable size than regular goats.”

“Looks like there’s some pygmies up there,” Jack pointed out, nodding to the end of the row.

“Don’t rush me, I’m getting there,” you shot back playfully. Jack just chuckled at you. “So, what brought you here today? You said you got ditched?”

“Promised a friend I’d come,” Jack told you with an easy shrug. “He wanted some help picking something out. ‘Course, soon as we’d done that, he got a call from another buddy of his and abandoned me to meet up with that group.” He shot you a flirty smile. “My gain, though.”

You chuckled. “Well, I dunno about that,” you murmured.

“I do.”

You felt your cheeks heat with blood and you ducked your head, momentarily flustered by his outright flirting. Then you smiled. “Well, we’ve got the rest of the day,” you pointed out. “I have no plans.”

“No?” Jack smiled. “Let’s see if I can’t change that.” He stepped around you, getting ahead of you, and winked before he sauntered off to the end of the row to the pygmy goats. He started chatting with an older gentleman on the other side of the fence, nodding back your direction once. You kept half your attention on him, curious what he was doing. But not quite curious enough to go butt in on the conversation. Instead you kept going down the row, petting goats.

At least until Jack trotted back over to you, looking smug as the cat that ate the canary. “Come on,” he told you, holding out a hand to you.

“What?”

“Come on!” Jack smiled, beckoning you again. You took his hand, and he promptly tugged you along over to the pygmy goats. The gentleman behind the fence opened up a section of fencing for you, ushering you both inside, and then efficiently herded you both into the pen with the pygmy goats.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, eyes huge. There were five goats and three kids. The kids were teeny tiny, and promptly ran over to investigate the two of you.

“Sit,” Jack encouraged you. “They’ll nibble a bit, so watch your stuff.” He gently pushed one kid away from nibbling on the hem of his jeans.

You sat, eyes still huge, and let the kids and the mamas sniff you and climb on you. They were adorable and friendly, and you were having a blast. Definitely needed to get like three of these little guys. Someday.

“How did you…?” You finally asked Jack several minutes later, after the kids had worn themselves out a bit. One of them had fallen asleep with its head on your foot, and you were loathe to move.

“Just had a friendly chat,” Jack told you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“You’re incredible,” you told him with a blinding smile. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

Jack’s smile turned a little softer, almost shy. “Well, why not?” he countered. “You got stood up, looks like, might as well make the best of your day now.”

You had no words for that, so you just smiled helplessly at him and scratched one of the mama goats when she wandered over to you.

You could have happily stayed there all day, but you did eventually get up. Mostly because your stomach was rumbling, and Jack insisted the two of you eat. So you got up, said goodbye to the goats (and thanked the owner), and made your way outside to a hand washing station.

“Bright,” you grumbled as soon as you were outside, squinting. “It was not this bright earlier.”

“You didn’t bring a hat?” Jack asked, tutting at you.

“Forgot it,” you admitted. You looked at him, reached up, and stole his hat, plonking it on your head with a cheeky grin. “This’ll work.”

Jack’s jaw dropped for a moment, and then he swallowed hard, looking you up and down. “Looks good on you,” he croaked.

“Thanks.” You flashed him a grin and reached out for his hand. “Food’s this way, come on.” He followed behind you easily, letting you lead the way.

The food area was, as usual, crowded and large. There were at least a dozen different vendors, all with different types of food, everything from pizza and hot dogs to turkey legs to gyros.

“What are you in the mood for?” you asked Jack, stepping out of the way and scanning the different offerings. “And if you say anything with fried dough before lunch, I’m walking away.”

Jack laughed at that, slinging an easy arm around your shoulders. You didn’t flinch at the touch, a little surprised at yourself. “Nah, I’m pretty easy to please. I usually go for a hot dog, or a sausage to start.” He winked at you, and you choked and spluttered for a moment.

“Go, I’ll meet you at a table,” you told him, waving him on. He hesitated for only a moment before he nodded, releasing you and striding off to get in line. You took a few moments to admire the view as he walked away. Mmm. Those jeans did great things for him from this angle. (From any angle, really, if you were being honest with yourself.)

You did tear your gaze away from him so you could trot off to get in line for your own food. Fortunately, things went quickly, and by the time you had your food and turned to look for Jack, he was flagging you down from an empty table. A smile stretched your lips – he was squinting at you. You still had his hat on. Your heart fluttered, just a little.

“You can have it back, if you want,” you told him, touching two fingers to the brim of his hat as you sat down next to him.

Jack smiled, slow and sweet as molasses. “Nah,” he said. “Looks good on you. Keep it.”

You returned the smile, and the two of you settled in to eat lunch. You finally learned a bit more about him – he worked at a distillery. Not one you’d heard of, though you absolutely did not claim to be a connoisseur of whiskey. In return, you told him a bit about your own job, and the friend who’d cancelled on you today.

“We come once a year,” you told him as the two of you cleaned up. “Well. She sometimes comes more often, but the two of us always come. We usually do a bit of early holiday shopping. Eat junk food. Stuff like that.”

“Well, we’ve eaten some junk food,” Jack said, glancing at your empty plates. “We’ll get to more of that later. Haven’t done any shopping, though.”

“I’m not dragging you through the vendor buildings,” you protested.

“Who says you’ll be dragging me, darlin’?” Jack shot back with an easy grin. “I’ll tell you if I get bored, promise. Now c’mon.” He grabbed your hand, towing you along with him. The crowds parted easily for him, and you couldn’t help a little huff of jealousy. Of course he’d get from point A to point B without being elbowed half a dozen times.

To your surprise, Jack was just as enthusiastic about shopping as your friend was. He had an eye for quality, charmed the vendors into giving you better deals, and ended up with multiple purchases of his own. He stopped and bought beef jerky in a variety of flavors. He sampled local honey with you. He even somehow ended up in a half hour discussion with a local vintner talking about barrels, of all things. That one you mostly just watched, perplexed, only half following the conversation. Watching Jack was far more interesting, anyway. He was a social chameleon, able to fit in at any and every booth he stopped at. Honestly, it was fascinating to watch.

Jack carried half of your bags for you, ignoring your protests, until you huffed and gave in.

The two of you zig-zagged back and forth through the vendor buildings for a solid few hours, until you cried mercy and Jack insisted on a snack break. He parked you at a quiet out of the way table, away from the main hustle and bustle of the fair, and vanished with promises to return with sustenance. You sat backwards on the bench so you could lean back against the edge of the table, smiling. Your day had certainly turned out much better than you would have guessed.

Jack came striding back with a funnel cake, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“I haven’t had one of these in years,” you told him, amused as you took one of the forks.

“It is a fair,” he told you with a wink. “Haveta get something fried here, darlin’.”

“Fair enough.” You smiled at him, sitting closer than was strictly necessary on the bench to share the funnel cake with him. The quiet was easy between the two of you, comfortable and relaxed. The fair noises were a little quieter here, and nobody even passed by your table.

“You’ve got a little somethin’,” Jack said, pointing to his own cheek to demonstrate. You swiped at your cheek, and he shook his head. “Nope, still there.” After watching you wipe your cheek again, he chuckled. “May I?”

“Okay,” you agreed, heart tripping and then slamming into double time. Jack reached over slowly, giving you plenty of time to move, and his thumb swiped across your cheek, then again. You leaned into the touch, and his hand cupped your cheek instead.

“Can I kiss you, darlin’?” he asked, voice low and quiet.

“Yes.”

Jack leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. His moustache tickled a little, making you smile into the kiss. His hand was warm against your cheek as he held you there, pulling back a little.

“More, please,” you murmured, still smiling at him.

“With pleasure.” Jack kissed you again, a series of gentle kisses that slowly became less chaste until he finally pulled back. Your eyes fluttered open – when had you closed them? Jack was smiling, his thumb sweeping across your cheek again.

“I think we can safely say you rescued the day,” you murmured, smiling.

“It’s my pleasure, darlin’,” Jack assured you. He kissed you one more time, apparently unable to resist, and then sat back. “What else is on your agenda for the day?”

You pulled out your phone for the first time in hours to check the time and make sure you hadn’t missed any actually important messages. Nothing important. And it was getting later than you’d realized.

“I should probably head home soon,” you said regretfully. “I don’t usually stay for the music stuff. Too loud.”

“I understand.” Jack smiled. “Well, then, darlin’, you say the word and I’ll help you to your car.”

“You don’t have to,” you protested, already knowing it was useless and unable to hide your smile.

“I insist,” Jack told you with a grin of his own. “My mama’d box me ‘round the ears if I didn’t.”

You giggled at that and shook your head. “Come on, one more walk down the main road, just in case anything catches our attention.”

The two of you stood, Jack once again stealing most of the bags (although you had to admit he had them stacked and set inside each other to make things easier), and then you were off. You were at the far end of the fair, so you had a nice stroll towards the front. It was just about the point at which the type of crowd changed – the families with children were leaving, and the teenagers and young adults were starting to swarm in for the musician of the night.

Honestly, you were loathe for the night to end, but you needed to get home.

“Thank you for today,” you told Jack as the two of you walked back to your car. “Really.”

“It was my pleasure, darlin’,” Jack told you. He set down your bags in your car and then boxed you in against the side of your car, tipping his hat (which was still on your head) up so he could kiss you again. And again. And again. Finally he stepped back, lips shining and red, eyes dark. “I’ll see you again soon, darlin’.”

“Your hat,” you started.

“I’ll get it next time.” Jack gave you one last lingering kiss before he took two big steps backwards. “Go on home. Check your bags. We’ll talk soon.” He winked you and turned, walking away.

It took every ounce of willpower you had not to either go after him or immediately dig through your bags to find out what he was talking about. Instead you drove home as calmly as you could, the hat placed safely on the passenger seat. As soon as you were parked, you were gathering up the bags and the hat and bolting inside to find whatever he had left you.

A small bag that you didn’t recognize was tucked into one of the bigger bags. Inside was a pair of earrings you had talked yourself out of buying, citing that they were out of your price range, and a business card. The business card had two numbers: office and cell. Jack Daniels. The simple note written on it made your heart soar.

Call me anytime, darlin’. I’ll see you soon.

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Tags: @fandom-blackhole @pedrocentric @beskarprincessjenny @sarahjkl82-blog @cannedsoupsucks @liviiii98 @adriiibell @seasonschange-butpeopledont @princessxkenobi @thirddeadlysin @pbeatriz @oonajaeadira @kiizhikehn-cedar @green-socks

“Agent Pike, meet Detective L/n” | Marcus Pike

Pairings: Marcus Pike X Detective! Reader.

Summary: The NYPD has-been busting their asses off with a drug case leading to a big underground cartel. Turns out they also steal very expensive art, and the FBI are sent to work with them.

Warnings: Angst, Cannon-typical violence.

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So proud of my mother for doing her own research after I sent her that meme. A sign she hung in her car window.