Summary: The Reader takes up a Pen Pals writing program at her school, and soon finds herself falling for the military man who’s been sending her letters. What happens when she graduates? Will the letters still come after, or is she just a random person who was strung along just to blow off some steam via words?
Word Count: 1.7kish
Warnings: AU, Fluff, Light Cursing
Author’s Note: Heyy my loves! This is my entry for @revwinchester‘s Birthday Challenge. I got the prompt “Soldier” with Dean (obviously). This was meant to be a one shot, but then I thought, why not make the other half in Dean’s POV? It’s only fair, right? Second part will come next weekend. And the third the following weekend. I really hope you guys like this! Feedback is definitely welcomed!!
Pen Pal - a person with whom one becomes friendly by exchanging letters, especially someone in a foreign country whom one has never met.
I never thought I’d be the one to do these kinds of things. When I signed up for it at the beginning of freshman year in high school, people thought I was insane. They didn’t think I was going to go through with it, you see.
So when I was thirteen and went to summer camp we were scheduled to go mountain biking one day, and even though I’m wobbly at best on a mountain bike I tagged along and prayed no one would make fun of me.
Well it got a lot worse than that, since they all rode far ahead of me while I kept falling off this bike that was way too big for me, but eventually I got some confidence. And then we reached a hill. Not just any hill, a steep, rocky hill covered with gravel and sharp, painful objects.
I didn’t know how to stop while going down the hill, so I just started cussing (at church camp, ironically) until I flipped headfirst over the handlebars, flew a few feet, and landed on my head.
My counselor had been biking behind me and proceeded to freak out, but all I did was stare for a long time at my bloody hands and say, “Um, hey, I think I broke my wrist.” So she had to carry me to the nurse’s office with a broken wrist, a puncture wound in my forehead, the skin on my left arm gouged off, the vision in my left eye gone, and – best part – two broken vertebrae.
I sat at a sink for about an hour while they tried to stop my head from bleeding, and instead of crying I talked to them about how it was churro day for lunch and they better save me some churros or I’d get really mad, how my neon purple shoes were ruined by bloodstains now, and how I thought puke was really funny. A girl came in crying with a splinter; I waved hi to her and she left.
And then I was driven to the hospital, a dinky little place with only twelve beds and no blood for transfusions, where I sat in the waiting room for an hour with a wad of paper towels pressed to my head and my wrist swollen as big as a stereotypical frat boy’s head. After being quizzed by the receptionist and filling out some paperwork with my broken wrist, they wrapped me up in gauze and bandages and everything everywhere, put glue on my head, and sent me back to camp, and then the camp nurse took me to McDonald’s to get a cheeseburger and ice cream.
So I’m more than likely the only person alive who can say they broke their neck and went to get ice cream right afterward.
So you guys like cake... What other foods do you like? Pie? Cookies? Burritos? Bacon cheeseburgers? Doughnuts? Ice cream? What're your faves?
Dark smiled" I actually love fruit. Believe it or not it’s practically all I eat-“ dark stood happily getting to talk about something he like "shut it yah fruit bat” Anti said rolling off the couch and hip bumping dark to the side “I like anything sweet! Cookies, cake, ice cream you name it! Anything to GET ME GOING” Anti said creating a drum roll with fake drums as he spoke
Warning: This might be triggering for those with eating disorders
You’re all beautiful just as you are!
You have been irritable the past couple of days, today being no exception. You woke up this morning, had a bowl of fruit for breakfast, walked the 15 minutes to class and proceeded to sit through three 2 hour long lectures. You glumly ate a salad for lunch before walking back to your apartment. All you wanted to do was order Chinese food and pig out in front of the TV, but you figured the leftover grilled chicken from last night and a side of vegetables would have to do.
You’d made the decision to start eating healthier a couple weeks ago and although you’d managed to follow the new diet plan to a T it was taking a toll on your patience. It seemed everywhere you turned there was an advert for sizzling prime ribs, yummy cheeseburgers, or delicious ice cream being paraded in your face. And every time you turned the other cheek, but over the past couple of days your resolve seemed to be getting weaker.
“Hey babe!” came from the kitchen as you stepped into your apartment.
You smelled it before you saw it. James was transferring a bowl of white gooey batter into a baking dish.
“I think I’m getting the hang of this. It’s pretty simple. I don’t know how Daniel fucked it up last time,” he spoke as he licked the spatula.
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“Making a cheesecake,” he showed a dimpled grin as he held up gestured to the empty Betty Crocker ‘No Bake’ box on the counter.
“It should be ready in a couple hours. How was class?” he placed the dish in the fridge and came to wrap you in a hug.
You pouted before telling him of your long day. “Sounds like you could do with some egg rolls,” he said as he placed a kiss on your forehead.
“I can’t,” you sighed.
There was a moment before he pulled back to look down at you, “Y/N, you’re still on that stupid diet?”
You backed out of his hold and went to the fridge to take out your dinner.
“A little support would be nice,” you muttered.
“Support? You’ve been miserable lately! You’re eating rabbit food and counting all your calories, all for what-”
“I’m trying to eat healthier, you know that,” you fired back.
“There’s a difference between cutting back on junk food and starving yourself.”
“I’m not starving myself James. Don’t be ridiculous.”
It was silent as you placed your dinner in the microwave and watched the countdown. You felt him walk up behind you and rest his head on your shoulder as he secured his arms around your waist, “I just don’t want you to be miserable babe. Your eating habits were fine before. A salad every once in a while is okay, but all day, every day? C’mon, you know a slice of pizza won’t kill you, right?” he placed a kiss on your cheek in assurance.
You sighed in response.
“Y/N?” there was a moment of hesitation before he continued, “You’re not trying to lose weight, are you?”
You turned in his embrace and looked him in the eye “No, I just wanted to make a positive change in my eating habits,” you truthfully told him.
“Good, because you’re perfect just the way you are and your eating habits were probably healthier before all this.” The timer on the microwave went off, reminding you of the less than favourable meal awaiting you. You dropped your head to his chest.
“Is it too late to take you up on that egg rolls offer?” He laughed and placed a kiss to the top of your head.
“Go change into your favourite Pj’s and I’ll call,” you stood on your toes and pressed your lips to his in a quick kiss before going to your room to follow his orders.
An hour later found you and James in your living room surrounded by empty cartons of greasy take out containers. You’d almost forgotten how amazing shrimp dumplings tasted. You’d eaten to contentment and spent the next hour watching TV. “Got room for cheesecake?” he asked as he got up to go to the kitchen in the middle of a commercial. You’d completely forgotten the cake in the fridge. You wanted a slice, but began to feel guilty after all the food you’d eaten, “Um, it’s okay babe. I’m good.”
He came back out with a slice on a plate and a fork, “Suit yourself.”
You tried to focus on the show, but your eyes kept darting back to the fork slipping past James’ lips. “Are you sure you don’t want a slice? It’s delicious. Mmm,” he teased as he took another bite.
“I’m sure,” you turned back to the show.
A couple minutes later you excused yourself to the bathroom, but took a detour to the kitchen instead. Just one bite, you thought as you took the dish out of the fridge and grabbed a fork. You’d been promising yourself that it was the last bite by the 7th forkful.
“I was beginning to think you fell into the toilet” his voice startled you.
You looked up to see him smirking at you from the doorway. “Uh, I was just-”
“Eating a slice of cheesecake? S’okay. I don’t blame you. My culinary skills are out of this world. Besides, real girls eat cake,” he grinned.
“Oh please, Yammouni, you’re nothing without Betty Crocker and the fuck does that even mean? What do fake girls eat?” you asked as you stole one last forkful.
He laughed as he strolled back into the living room. “Ask Jai, I’ve been told he makes a pretty one,” he called over his shoulder.
You didn’t even bother to respond to that. You put away the cake and followed him. You fell into a comfortable silence as you both sat enjoying the sitcom . As an afterthought you turned to him, “what do real boys eat then?”
Instead of the smart ass reply you half expected, his lips pulled into a mischievous smirk as he gave you a slow once over, “Well I can show you better than I can tell you.”