PEDRO PASCAL IMAGINES

EVERYTHING I NEED (Agent Whiskey x reader)

Warnings: slight angst, implied smut

You were running down a hill next to Agent Whiskey, the Statesman member you had been paired with for the most recent mission. Champ said you and him would make a good team, Whiskey was exeptional with his whip and lasso, you were the brains in this mission. Yet you had to run. Numerous hitmen were chasing after you, their only aim was to see you two dead. Of course you wouldn't let that happen, along with Whiskey you were invincible, at least you hoped so.

Sooner or later you found yourself next to Whiskey, both of you sitting on hospital beds having gunshot wounds stitched up by medicals at Statesman headquarters. You caught Whiskey throw looks over at you every once in a while, you were the youngest and newest member of the Statesman agents and you seemed to be under everyone else's watchful eyes.

"You alright there, darlin'?" Whiskey inquired as you flinched at the nurse cleaning the wound on your shoulder with disinfectant. You looked over at him and believed to see worry in his eyes.

"I'm fine," you sighed, forcing a smile. Whiskey kept watching you when the medics wrapped nearly your whole arm into bandages. He also was badly injured but he was used to it, he was obviously more worried about you than about himself.

"Have someone take you home, ok?" The nurse patted your back in comfort when she was done stitching you up. You bit your lip, not really having anyone here who could pick you up at this time of night.

"I'll take care of that," Whiskey offered, he insisted to be fair, and a few moments later you sat next to him in this car, giving him directions of where to drop you off. There was an awkward silence since you didn't know what to talk to him about. Eventually, he broke the ice.

"Darlin', I must say I admire your strength and bravery. It was a wild night and you were refusing to let me down."

You peeked over at him and saw him smile, it wasn't one of his flirty smirks you had seen so often, it was a soft, kind smile.

"Thanks," you uttered. It was great hearing a compliment like this from one of the most respected agents, especially because you've always had the impression that the others were seeing you as "the little girl". Looking out of the window, you secretly wondered how old Agent Whiskey was. Surely older than you.

He drove up to your place and even walked you to the door.

"I can take it from here," you reassured him politely, not wanting to make it inconvenient for him.

"Are you sure, doll? I could as well stay over to properly make sure you're alright?"

There was a spark in his eyes that made you actually consider to let him stay with you.

"That's really too much to ask, Jack, but I appreciate it. I'll be fine."

He couldn't hide the disappointment, so he just nodded, "I'll pick you up for work tomorrow."

"OK," you smiled and stepped closer to place a kiss on his cheek. His eyes lit up with amazement and slowly, he walked back to his car.

"Good night then, darlin'. Let me know if you need me."

"I will."

You shot him another, thankful glance and closed the door.

When you laid in bed a short while later, you couldn't get him out of your mind. What you didn't know was, he couldn't get you off his mind either.

Whiskey picked you up the next morning and drove you to work. Everyone was greeting you effusively and was pestering you with questions about the day before and your wellbeing. Whenever you looked over at Whiskey, his eyes were already on you with the same intensity as the night before.