#*leans over in the movie theatre* there he is. it's the gap

[thephooka]

White Noise has updated!

Read it here! | Read WN from the beginning | WN on Patreon

Only ever good feels here in this webcomic!

[enree9h]

NOW SHOWING | psh

PAIRING : bestfriend’sbrother!sunghoon x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS : When your best friend bails on a movie date at the last minute, you find yourself in a cramped movie theatre with her elder brother instead.

WARNINGS : SMUT, pinv, 3 year age gap??, both are in their 20s

wc : 1.9k+

A/N : this turned out longer than I'd imagined it to be, hope its good tho ♡

MDNI

Dimming lights blind your vision, the screen lighting up with advertisements. Your gaze shifts to the figure beside you, to his silhouette against the black of the theatre and you feel heat taint the skin of your cheeks red. 

“The movie’s about to begin”

You feel his breath on your skin, his voice in your ear and you feel yourself go motionless at the sudden closeness. You let a hum out in response, the feeble sound falling over your lips. You glance at his retreating figure, hoping the dark clouds your reaction.

When you feel his knee rub against yours you mentally curse your friend for having booked seats in a cramped theatre like this. What angers you further is how she bailed on you at the last minute, leaving you standing awkwardly at her door all dressed up for the movie she had begged you to accompany her to. The next thing you know she's pushing her brother out of the house and onto you, hoping his presence would somehow make up for her absence. 

Sunghoon watches you squirm in your seat, your knuckles white against the handle of the seat, the movie going unnoticed. His eyes run over the goosebumps on your arms and he is quick to slip out of his jacket. 

“Wha-” 

“You’re shivering”, his tone is nonchalant as he moves to lay it over you. You feel his fingers brush against your skin and feel all the cold being driven out at the contact. He leans over to lay it on you properly and you feel yourself arch into his touch, his scent.

Your mind runs with all the scenarios that have kept you up at night, especially those that involved him. With his eyes rolled back and fingers gripping the skin on your hips as he plunged into you without much thought. You shiver despite the warmth the jacket offers you and lean back into your seat rubbing the inside of your thighs together, the friction leaving you slightly breathless. 

Sunghoon watches you with a glint in his eyes, his gaze begins to cloud with lust. His jacket on your chest rose as you made an effort to even your breathing out, all while Sunghoon’s gaze ran over your clothed body lit by the dim lights of the movie screen.

He's always been good at maintaining a distance, especially with someone who was as close to his sister as you were. however, over the past months, the temptation to close the charged space between the two of you gnawed on his insides each time you walked past him. 

You feel yourself grow frustrated with each passing second, the ache between your legs making your brain go fuzzy. Unable to hold yourself back any longer you hoist yourself up

“I’ll be back. Bathroom break", you mutter your eyes barely meeting Sunghoon’s in the process and attempt to move through the barely available space. 

Sunghoon keeps his eyes on you as you struggle to squeeze yourself past him, your calves brushing against his knees. You feel red stain your cheeks, embarrassment making your heart quicken its pace. You stand blocking Sunghoon’s view of the screen all while his eyes trail down your back, inching lower the longer you stood in front of him, struggling. 

“Could you move any faster?” 

You whip your head sideways at the sound and find a rather tired looking dad with his toddler, waiting to move past you. You mentally curse yourself and every other higher power that carefully constructed this mess. You glance at your seat, hoping to sit back down until the two make their way out but find them standing right in front of it. 

“Uh” you feel sweat rolling down your back, “could you-” you point at the seat and look back to find the guy rolling his eyes at your fumbling state. 

“Let me jus-” You don't get to complete your barely audible sentence when you feel fingers grab your hips, pulling you down in haste. 

“Please” utters Sunghoon, motioning the two to walk through. He pulls you in closer, trying to make as much space as possible. Your thighs rub over his all while his arm rests on it, palm spread over your clothed thigh. You half expect yourself to fade away at that moment, the heat from his thighs seeping into yours. 

“Asshole” his voice is in your ear, whispered and quiet, only for you to hear. A chuckle escapes your lips at his comment but the bulge poking into your ass was what gets a noiseless moan out of you.

“See what you do to me?” 

You try to conceal the gasp that falls out of your lips at that but with your back firmly pressed against Sunghoon’s chest, no sound or movement of yours went unnoticed by him. “Oh God” his words are hardly audible to others, only reaching your ears and you shiver at the scratch in his voice. 

“I know you want this as much as I do, angel” 

You respond by leaning back, your back pressing into him. 

“Say it”, his voice leads you into a daze and you find yourself growing defenseless, wanting to give in to it. 

Your words are whispers uttered in a hurry, your patience running out, your mind going blank,

 “I want it”

And at that Sunghoon is pushing you up, attempting to stand as he grabs your wrist. Within seconds you’re pulled out of the rows of seats and dragged down to the exit, his fingers move from your wrist and slide into the gaps of your fingers in the process. 

He rushes you to the parking lot, the cold hitting you as you step into the night. Running and tripping over nothing as you made your way to his car. 

“Backseat.” 

His gaze grows dark and you see lust swirling in the brown of his eyes. You silently comply, sliding into the backseat within seconds. You keep your eyes on him as he follows you in, shuts the door and hoists you up without much effort until you're straddling him. 

“Do you really want this?” his eyes are sincere yet eager, his fingers that sit on your hips twitch and dig into your skin. You stare back at him, the dull light of the streetlamp illuminating his face and you can't seem to hold back anymore. So you mutter a quick inaudible yes and smash your lips onto his, your fingers circling his nape, gradually moving into the soft black of his hair. 

You don't realize how but minutes later you find yourself sitting half naked on Sunghoon, your palm on his chest, breath coming out as pants as he mirrors your breathing. His clothed bulge sits right beneath your naked and wet core. 

“Hoon please” you whimper, your eyes shut, brows furrowed in frustration. 

The name drives him crazy and he’s attacking your neck with his mouth the very next second, sucking and biting the skin between his lips like there’s no tomorrow. He bucks his hips upwards and you moan at the pressure that builds up inside of you. Your fingers grab his bare shoulders and you move over his bulge shamelessly 

“Just like that baby” he is rolling his eyes all the way to the back, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, voice hoarse with lust. And you speed up the moment his grip on your waist tightens. 

“Need you in me, Hoon” 

He almost jumps out of his seat at that, the words he was so eagerly waiting for, his body reacts to it almost instantly, and he curses at the sight of pre cum staining his jeans. 

“So bad” You don't hold back anymore, your fingers reach for his jeans, unbuttoning them with hurried hands. You're eagerness gets a chuckle out of him “Not funny” you mutter, agitated. 

“How long did you wait for this angel?” 

He slips out of his jeans, his eyes on you the entire time, a smirk graces his lips. You eye his boxers and groan internally, it's so much more than you’d imagined.

“Waited long enough” You look at him with half-laden eyes, your fingers rubbing over his shoulder blades and watch him centre his cock over your hole. You feel time stop the moment you lower yourself onto him, your hole stretching, your walls eager and wet, slipping him right inside. 

“Oh god” Sunghoon almost gives in, the need to flip you and drive into you and your tight hole all night drives him wild but he lets you take the lead this time, knowing there'd be more such nights. You couldn't get enough of him in one night and he wasn't planning on getting enough of you either. 

You move on him with a newfound energy and Sunghoon reaches for your boobs at the sight of them, he had always pictured them to be like this, perfect, just to his liking. He palms your right boob while he up jerks upwards, your moan sweet and loud in his ears the moment the tip of his cock hits a certain spot. 

“You’re doing so good baby” 

His words leave you even more breathless and you move until you feel warmth grow in your abdomen, muscles contracting.

Sunghoon grabs your hips- your body fitting just right in his hands, and takes it upon himself to move the both of you. He thrusts himself into you with such intensity that you are forced to muffle your screams by sinking your teeth into the sweaty skin of his shoulder. 

“Let me hear you, angel” 

And you do, you let him hear every moan that falls out of your lips. You sense the pace of his thrusts quicken and try to keep up with it, your muscles clenching around him, heat pooling between your thighs. 

Sunghoon throws his head back, eyes shut, sweat running down his chest and onto your body. The touch of your skin against his drives him crazy, limbs tangled, windows of his car fogged up. He feels his release nearing, the ungodly grip of his fingers leaves marks on your hips. 

He moves you faster, his hips thrusting upwards until he feels it draw closer and your body grows tense with each passing second. 

“So close baby” 

“Hoon I-” your words end up coming out as gibberish as you sense your mind go static the moment your body lets go. 

Sunghoon growls, a sound coming from the depths of his pleasure as he releases his load into you. You feel it fill you up, your insides coming away hot and wet. Spots cloud your vision as Sunghoon thrusts into you one final time and your thighs lay covered in both of your releases.

You lay against him, your head in the crook of his neck and make an effort to level your breathing as Sunghoon holds you in place, his fingers running down your spine. You feel him turn his head towards you and moments later feel his lips on your temple. “This was the single best night I've ever had” The low rumble of his voice sends vibrations through your body and you smile against his shoulder, nodding in agreement. 

Sunghoon tries to keep his hands to himself but loses them in your warmth, his fingers gently run over your body in an attempt to calm you down.  You find yourself wondering if this was a fever dream, so vivid, so real. And wishing that if it were one, it’d last a little longer because you were not ready to leave the warmth of Sunghoon’s body just yet. 

[wandaslittleweirdo]

A/N: just a little idea I had….. this is kinda intense, so viewer discretion is advised :p — masterlist.

tw: jealousy, toxic relationship, wanda holds your head under cold water, heavy dom/sub dynamics, pet names (darling, little angel, sweet girl, etc), dirty talk/coaxing, possessiveness, age gap > reader is 23 wanda is 36

dark!mommy!wanda ༝༝ fem!reader

ೀ The cool evening air clings to you as you step into your home, the light scent of rain sneaking it’s way through the open door. You had spent the day out with a friend, laughing and sharing stories that made your heart feel lighter than it had in months.

The air is heavy with the scent of incense and candle wax, and you assume it was Wanda trying new spells while you were away. You sigh, feeling the weight of the world lift from your shoulders as you kick off your shoes, your socks sliding along the wooden floorboards.

You pad your way into the kitchen and over to the fridge, the hum of its motor the only sound in the otherwise silent house. You cracked it open, the chill rushing out as you grab a bottle of water.

Wanda's embrace is sudden but comforting, her arms slithering around your waist, her chin resting on your shoulder as she breathed in your scent.

"How was your day, my sweet?" She asks as she sways you in her arms.

Her eyes look for yours in the reflection of the fridge door, a silent demand for details. You twist the cap off the bottle, the plastic crunching under your grip. "Hey, Wands," you smile, turning to face her and leaning against the fridge. “My day was nice. Met up with a friend, had dinner, watched a late movie. All that jazz.”

Wanda’s smile remained, but her grip tightens around your waist. "Which friend was this?" The sweetness in her voice now has a brittle edge to it, like a thin sugar coating ready to crack under pressure. You hesitate, the chill from the fridge seeping into your bones as your mind scrambled for the right words.

"A random one," you shrug, biting the inside of your cheek. She raises her brows expectantly, clearly not satisfied with your answer. "It was just a guy from work."

Her eyes narrow slightly, the green in them darkening like a storm approaching. "A guy?" she repeated lowly. "What's his name?”

You swallowed hard, taking a deep breath through your nose in an attempt to hide your rapidly increasing anxiety. "His name is Alex."

Her eyes search yours, looking for any sign of deception. "Alex," she murmured, tasting the name as her eyes fell to the pendant of your necklace. "I don't recall you mentioning him before.”

You feel your throat tighten, looking down at your hands and squeezing the bottle nervously. "He's a new friend. I've only talked to him a couple of times."

She purses her lips, running her tongue over her teeth. "And why didn't you tell me you were going out with this Alex guy?"

"Because it’s not like that, Wands—“

“Do you expect me to believe you went to a movie theatre, alone with a man, and that’s all you did? You just watched the movie and came straight home?” Her tone is accusing, her hand moving to play with the neckline of your dress, the action feeling more threatening than playful.

“Yes! He’s not like that, and you know I’m not.”

“You probably wanted him too. Because that’s what you sluts want, right?”

Panic floods your chest, your mind racing to find a way to reassure her. “Please, you know that’s not true!”

You try to pull away, but she holds you still, tutting you when she sees your lip quiver and your eyes water in fear of what she might do to him, or you. Her thumb traces your cheekbone, the gesture eerily gentle despite her harsh words. "You know I can read your mind," she reminds you softly, her fingers coming up to caress the side of your forehead. "So tell me the truth, Y/N—“

“I am, I didn’t do anything! Just fucking drop it, Wanda!”

Your reaction surprises the both of you, her eyes widening and her hand pulling back slightly. You feel the blood drain from your face as you realise what you had said, your heart picking up its speed. A moment passes, and your words seem to finally sink in, watching as her jaw clenches and her nostrils flare.

Suddenly, her hand flies up, and she grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking you forward and pulling you away from the fridge. You gasp, stumbling as she drags you across the kitchen, the floorboards protesting underfoot. She stops at the sink, her grip unyielding as she twists the faucet handle.

The cold water gushes out, and you feel the first droplets hit your face, the chill of them making your breath hitch. She bends you over the sink and stands behind you, your shaky hands gripping the cold counter to keep yourself steady. “What are you doing?" you choked out, your eyes wide with horror.

“It seems to me you’ve forgotten your place, Y/N,” Wanda says, her voice deceptively calm. "Maybe after this, you’ll remember to watch your mouth."

Without warning, she plunged your head under the stream of icy water, holding you there as you sputtered and squirmed. Your lungs burn as the shock steals your breath away, the world around you reduced to a muffled roar as the water fills your ears.

“Shh, you’re okay. Mommy’s got you,”

“The more you fight me, the longer I hold you here.”

“I know it’s cold, honey, but it’s for your own good. Just a little longer,”

“Sweet girl, why do you always push me to this point?” Her voice is a mix of feigned disappointment and pity as she continues to hold your head under the frigid water. You struggle, your hands slapping against the sink and counter, trying to break free, but her grip remained firm. Your eyes squeeze shut as you choke on the liquid invading your nose and mouth, each gasp for air met with more water.

"I'm sorry, mommy!” you manage to gasp out, your voice high and desperate. She doesn’t flinch hearing you beg, cruelly watching the water soak your hair and distort your features.

Wanda didn’t move until your struggles weakened and your body went limp. She pulls you up from under the water, and you gasp for air, your vision blurry and your hair plastered to your face. You cough violently, a mix of water and blood splattering back into the sink.

"Look what you made me do," she murmurs, looking down at you with faux empathy. "You know better than to speak like that to me. If this happens again, you give me no choice but to teach you a lesson. Do you understand?”

You nod, hysterical as tears stream down your cheeks. Wanda turns off the faucet and tugs your head up, her voice like steel. "I said, do you understand?”

You let out a hiccup, your voice trembling as you nodded again. "Yes, mommy. I understand. I only want you, no one else, I promise.” The corner of her lips twitch into a small, proud smile hearing your frantic response, the storm in her eyes finally starting to simmer down. Her thumb strokes your cheek, smearing the mascara trails that the water had left.

“My little angel," Wanda whispers, her grip on your hair loosening. "You always know just what to say to make me happy."

She gently pulls you up from your position over the sink to turn you around, wrapping her arms around you and pulling your trembling frame close to her chest. "I know you don’t like when I hurt you, but mommy just wants what’s best for you, okay?”

"I know, I'm sorry," you murmured into her blouse, another sob rocking through you. “I won’t see him again.”

Wanda visibly relaxed hearing your words, letting out a soft sigh as she stroked your wet hair.

"That’s my girl.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[pedroscowgirl]

Unspoken desires

hugh jackman x afab!reader

Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI!

age gap (reader 20s, hugh is 55), angst (no bad stuff), p in v , creampie (wrap it up), choking, talking about feelings, daddy issues (again)

Words: 5.1k

A/N: You can read this separately but i imagined this as a part 2 of this fic that i wrote :) enjoy! (i have so much hugh in my concepts it's bad)

MASTERLIST

Weeks had drifted by since you and Hugh first began your casual sleeping together, and what had once been a whirlwind of passion had gradually settled into something more routine. The excitement of your initial encounters had softened into a comfortable familiarity. The chemistry was still there, moments together still brought a sense of warmth and pleasure but the raw spark that had once set your skin on fire was slowly dimming. You found yourself wondering if Hugh felt it too, or if he was simply going along with the flow, just as you were.

Today, you were set to see Hugh again, but this time it wasn’t just a private rendezvous. Instead of meeting privately, you were headed to a small gathering at his apartment to celebrate the overwhelming success of the Deadpool and Wolverine movie, which had just hit theatres and shattered expectations at the box office. It was a big moment for Hugh, and he was proud of the film, so when he invited you to join in the celebration, you didn’t hesitate.

Choosing an outfit for the occasion felt like a delicate balance,you wanted to look stunning, but also to pay homage to Hugh’s iconic role. After sifting through your closet, you decided on a little black dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. It was simple yet elegant, with gold accents that gleamed under the light, a subtle nod to the yellow of Wolverine's costume. You paired it with matching accessories,a gold bracelet, earrings that caught the light, and heels that made you feel confident with each step. As you applied the finishing touches to your makeup, you couldn’t shake the feeling of anticipation mixed with a hint of uncertainty. This was more than just another night together, it was an event, a step into his world, however small.

When you finally arrived at Hugh’s apartment, the evening air was cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth you felt when you thought of seeing him. As you stood at his door, you took a deep breath, willing yourself to enjoy the night no matter what. The door swung open, revealing Hugh dressed casually but impeccably, his smile as charming as ever. The sight of him sent a familiar flutter through your chest, but as you leaned in to greet him with a kiss on the mouth, a gesture that had become natural between you, but he shifted slightly, his lips brushing against your cheek instead. It was a small, almost imperceptible movement, but it caught you off guard. The kiss on the cheek was friendly, almost distant, and you couldn’t help but feel a sting of disappointment. It was as if the shift you had sensed over the past weeks was crystallizing in this single moment.

Hugh pulled you into a warm hug, his hand lingering on your back, but the initial awkwardness of the missed kiss lingered in the air. As you stepped inside, you noticed the apartment was already buzzing with energy. Laughter echoed from the living room, where a few of Hugh’s close friends, including Ryan and Blake, were already gathered, drinks in hand. The atmosphere was lively, the kind of joyous occasion that should have made you feel welcome and at ease, but instead, a small seed of doubt had taken root in your mind.

You knew Hugh was a private person, especially when it came to his relationships. He hadn’t told anyone about the two of you—not even Ryan and Blake, who were like family to him. It wasn’t hard to understand why. Hugh had confided in you once, in a quiet moment after you’d made love, that he sometimes felt self-conscious about the age gap between you. He’d joked about being “too old” for you, but there had been a seriousness in his eyes that told you it wasn’t just a passing thought. It was something that lingered at the back of his mind, and now, it seemed like that insecurity was starting to manifest in small, subtle ways.

Despite the initial awkwardness, you resolved not to let it ruin the night. This was Hugh’s moment to shine, and you were determined to be there for him. You pushed the doubts aside, telling yourself that there was no need to overthink things. After all, this was supposed to be a celebration, not a night to get lost in your thoughts. You grabbed a glass of champagne from the counter, smiling at Hugh as you joined the others in the living room. The conversation flowed easily, and soon, you found yourself laughing along with the group, the earlier tension beginning to fade into the background.

As the night wore on, you caught glimpses of Hugh across the room, his eyes occasionally meeting yours with a softness that reassured you, if only a little. There were moments when he would come over, resting his hand on your shoulder or leaning in to share a private joke, and for those brief intervals, it felt like nothing had changed. But then he would pull away, drawn back into the conversation with his friends, and you were left wondering if he was purposely keeping a distance, or if you were just imagining it.

Even more time passed, and you found yourself deep in conversation with one of the crew members from the film. The discussion was engaging, he was sharing behind-the-scenes stories about the production, and you were genuinely interested, laughing at the amusing anecdotes he recounted. But despite the lively conversation, a part of your attention remained elsewhere. You couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had lingered since your arrival.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of Hugh across the room. He was standing with a small group, his handsome face lit up with that familiar, heart-melting smile of his. But what caught your attention wasn’t the smile itself, it was the person he was smiling at. Beside him was a stunning blonde woman, who looked to be in her late forties. She was effortlessly elegant, with a confidence that matched her beauty. As she spoke, Hugh laughed, his deep, warm laughter carrying across the room. But it was the way he looked at her that made your heart drop. There was a softness in his gaze, an ease that you hadn’t seen in him in a while.

A pang of jealousy surged through you, sharp and unexpected. You knew you had no right to feel this way. Hugh was a free man now, having finalized his divorce about a year ago. It had been a difficult time for him, and you had been there to support him, offering comfort when he needed it. But now, seeing him with someone else, that rational understanding faded into the background, replaced by a raw, unfiltered emotion. You couldn’t help it, you loved him. It wasn’t something you had intended or even expected when you first started seeing each other, but the more time you spent with Hugh, the more you realized just how deep your feelings ran.

It felt strange, almost surreal, to acknowledge it to yourself. Hugh was a man who seemed to have it all—charm, good looks, kindness, and a genuine warmth that made people feel at ease around him. He was sweet to everyone, always the gentleman, and his sincerity was what drew you to him in the first place. How could anyone not fall in love with him? But knowing this didn’t make it any easier to watch him with someone else, especially when the woman beside him was clearly just as taken by his charisma as you were.

You watched as she leaned in closer to him, her hand resting lightly on his muscular arm, her fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt. The sight made your stomach twist into knots. It was a casual touch, nothing overtly intimate, but it spoke volumes. Hugh didn’t pull away,instead, he smiled down at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way you found so endearing. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, the room closing in around you as your mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions—jealousy, insecurity, fear. Did she know him better than you did? Was she someone from his past, or perhaps someone new who had caught his eye? The questions swirled in your head, unanswered and tormenting.

You suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder, pulling you out of your thoughts. One of the people in your conversation circle was looking at you with concern. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice cutting through the noise in your mind. You forced a smile and nodded quickly as you tried to gather yourself. “I’m fine,” you managed to say, even though the words felt empty. But the last thing you wanted was to draw attention to yourself, especially when you were struggling to keep your emotions in check.

“Excuse me,” you added hastily, your voice barely steady. You needed to get away, to find a place where you could breathe and collect your thoughts. But the walls of the apartment seemed to be closing in on you, the lively chatter and laughter around you becoming overwhelming. And without waiting for a response, you turned and made your way toward the bathroom, your steps quickening as you navigated through the crowded room.

As you closed the bathroom door behind you, the noise of the party was muffled, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You leaned against the sink, staring at your reflection in the mirror with your heart still pounding in your chest. The image staring back at you was composed on the surface, but you could see the cracks just beneath, the vulnerability that you had been trying so hard to hide. It was hard to reconcile the feelings that had surged within you tonight. You hadn’t expected to feel so strongly, but now that you did, it was impossible to ignore.

The truth was, you didn’t just care about Hug, you were in love with him. And seeing him with someone else, seeing that look in his eyes that used to be directed at you, was a painful reminder that whatever you had was complicated and perhaps not as secure as you had hoped. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath and tried to calm the storm of emotions inside you. You knew you couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever, but for now, it was a safe haven where you could relax and decide how to face the rest of the night.

After a few minutes, you splashed some cool water on your face, hoping it would help clear your mind. The mirror reflected your slightly dampened makeup, but you quickly touched it up, not wanting anyone to see any sign of distress. You told yourself that tonight was about celebrating Hugh’s success, not about your complicated feelings. You could deal with those later, when you were alone and away from the prying eyes of his friends and colleagues.

When you finally felt composed enough to rejoin the party, you took one last deep breath and opened the bathroom door. The lively sounds of the gathering filled your ears again, and as you stepped back into the main room, you scanned the crowd, trying to locate Hugh without being too obvious.

And after trying to push through the rest of the evening with forced smiles and half-hearted conversations, you reached your breaking point. It was too much—the tension, the uncertainty, the way Hugh seemed so comfortable with someone else while you were left questioning everything. You decided you needed to get out of there, to put some distance between you and whatever this was becoming before you snapped in front of everyone.

Without saying a word, you started making your way toward the door, weaving through the remaining guests. You had almost reached the exit when you felt a strong hand wrap around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You turned sharply to find Hugh standing behind you, his eyes filled with concern and a hint of confusion.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice low but firm, clearly sensing that something was wrong.

You pulled your wrist from his grip, trying to avoid his gaze as you muttered, “I need some air.”

But Hugh wasn’t letting you go that easily. He stepped closer, his presence demanding your attention. “What’s going on? You’ve been acting strange all night. Talk to me.”

You didn’t want to talk. You didn’t want to admit what was really bothering you, especially when you knew you had no right to feel this way. But the frustration that had been building inside you all evening finally boiled over. You spun around to face him, your eyes flashing with anger.

“Nothing’s wrong, Hugh. I just need to get out of here, okay?” The words came out sharper than you intended, but you didn’t care. All you wanted was to leave before you said something you couldn’t take back.

Hugh frowned, not buying your answer for a second. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s really going on,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. He reached for your hand again, this time holding it more gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing gesture that only made you more frustrated.

You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened just enough to keep you from leaving. “Hugh, just let me go,” you snapped, but he didn’t budge.

“Come with me,” he said quietly, his voice firm but gentle as he guided you toward the hallway that led to his bedroom. You followed him, more out of exasperation than anything else, knowing that this conversation wasn’t something you couldn’t avoid any longer.

Once inside his room, Hugh closed the door behind you, shutting out the noise of the party. The silence between you was thick with tension as you stood there, your arms crossed, staring at the floor. Hugh watched you, waiting for you to speak, but when you didn’t, he finally broke the silence.

“Why are you so upset?” he asked, his voice softer now, as if trying to coax the truth out of you.

You clenched your jaw, still refusing to meet his eyes. “I’m not upset,” you lied, the words bitter on your tongue. “I just… I just don’t want to be here right now.”

Hugh sighed, stepping closer until he was right in front of you. He reached out, placing a hand on your chin and gently lifting your face so you were forced to look at him. “I know you better than that. What’s really going on?”

His concern and tenderness only made you angrier. You wanted to push him away, to run out of the room and forget this whole night ever happened. But the emotions you had been holding back finally broke free, and before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out.

“I saw you with her, Hugh!” you burst out, your voice shaking with frustration and hurt. “That woman, you were laughing with her, looking at her like she was the only person in the room. And I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but I do. I can’t help it.”

Hugh’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly recovered, his expression softening as he realized what had been bothering you. “You think… you think I’m interested in her?” he asked, disbelief colouring his tone.

You didn’t answer, but your silence spoke volumes. Hugh let out a breath, running a hand through his hair as he tried to process what you were saying. “She’s just a friend,” he said, his voice calm but insistent. “There’s nothing going on between us. I was just being friendly,” Hugh said, his tone dismissive.

You let out a sigh, your eyes narrowing as you locked onto his. “I know what your 'friendly' looks like, Hugh. I’ve seen you flirt before.” He hesitated, the realization of your words sinking in. Finally, he sighed, admitting, “Alright, maybe I was flirting a little. But there’s nothing official between us, for fucks sake I’m twice your age, so why does it bother you so much?” His voice carried a hint of annoyance as he met your gaze, clearly frustrated.

And as the heated exchange between you and Hugh unfolded in his bedroom, the air thick with tension and unspoken emotions, Hugh took a deep breath, attempting to steady himself. Instead of matching your rising anger, he opted for a calmer approach, his voice measured and gentle.

"Listen," he began, his eyes searching yours earnestly. "I never meant to hurt you. I just thought... given our age difference, that this was something light, something fun for both of us. You have your entire life ahead of you. You should be out there, enjoying yourself, experiencing things with people your own age. Building a future with someone who can match your energy, your plans, your dreams."

His words felt like a cold splash of water, momentarily drowning the flames of your anger. But soon, a different kind of heat rose within you,a mix of hurt and disbelief. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you struggled to process his confession.

"So, you think this is just a fling for me?" you choked out, voice quivering. "That I'm just... passing time with you until someone my age comes along?"

Hugh looked pained, but he held your gaze. "I just didn't want to hold you back. I thought keeping things casual was best for both of us."

A tear escaped, trailing down your cheek. "Hugh, you idiot," you whispered, voice breaking. "I don't care about your age. I don't care about any of that. I care about you. Can't you see that?"

He reached out, gently wiping the tear from your face with his thumb. "I just didn't want to be the reason you missed out on experiences, on opportunities."

You shook your head intensely. "The only thing I'd miss out on is being with you. Can't you understand that? It's not about age or experiences. It's about how I feel when I'm with you."

Before you could even form another sentence, Hugh's lips crashed onto yours with a passion that sent a jolt of electricity through your entire body. His kiss was intense, all-consuming, and filled with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. You could feel the urgency in the way he held you, his hands gripping your waist tightly as if he never wanted to let go.

Without breaking the kiss, Hugh swept you off your feet, his strong arms effortlessly lifting you from the floor. You clung to him, your heart pounding in your chest as he carried you over to the bed. There was something primal in his movements, a raw need that resonated deep within you. He laid you down with a surprising gentleness, as though you were the most precious thing in the world.

His hands moved to the zipper of your little black dress, slowly drawing it down with a deliberate precision that made your breath catch in your throat. The dress slipped down your shoulders, exposing your skin to the cool air, and he paused to admire the sight of you, his eyes darkening with desire. His fingers brushed over the bare skin of your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine as the dress slid further down your body, finally pooling around your hips before he removed it entirely.

You were now laid bare before him, and the way he looked at you made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. He began to undress himself, his movements quick and sure, until his clothes lay discarded on the floor. The sight of him standing there, naked and aroused, was enough to make your mouth go dry. His body was a masterpiece, every muscle perfectly defined, his skin stretched over a frame that was the epitome of masculine perfection.

No matter how many times you had seen him like this, it never failed to take your breath away. He was all hard lines and powerful muscles, his presence dominating the room in a way that made you feel both safe and utterly desired. Why would you ever want anyone else when this man was right here?

Hugh’s eyes roamed over your body, drinking in every curve, every inch of exposed skin. There was a possessiveness in his gaze, an intensity that made your pulse race. He climbed onto the bed, his hands finding your body as he began to explore you with his lips. He started at your neck, his mouth hot and wet against your skin as he kissed his way down to your collarbone. He took his time, savouring each kiss, each caress, as if he wanted to memorize the taste and feel of you.

When his lips reached your thighs, he paused, lifting his gaze to meet yours. The look in his eyes was nothing short of predatory, and it sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. He leaned down, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and then he bit down, just hard enough to leave a mark. You gasped at the sensation, your body tensing in response as a wave of heat pooled in your core.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours as he ran his tongue over the mark he had just made. “This is all mine, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice a low, possessive growl.

A whimper escaped your lips as you nodded, your voice trembling with need. “Yes, it’s all yours.”

A satisfied smirk curled his lips, and he didn’t waste another moment. He positioned himself between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he lined himself up with your entrance. He paused for a moment, just long enough to let the anticipation build, before slowly pushing inside. The sensation of him filling you was indescribable, a perfect blend of pleasure and intimacy that made your breath catch in your throat.

He moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm at first, each thrust deep and measured, as if he wanted to savour every moment of being inside you. The way he moved, the way he filled you, it was as if he was made for you, fitting perfectly into every curve, every inch of you. Your body responded to his in kind, your hips rising to meet his as you moaned softly, lost in the sensation of him moving inside you.

Hugh’s hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you closer with each thrust as he set a steady pace. His mouth found yours again, kissing you with a passion that left you breathless. The kiss was deep, his tongue exploring your mouth in time with his movements, and it only served to heighten the pleasure coursing through your body. The connection between you was electric, a tangible bond that made every touch, every kiss, feel like fire on your skin.

As the intensity grew, he shifted slightly, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder to angle himself even deeper inside you. The new position made you gasp, your nails digging into his strong, muscular arm as the pleasure became almost unbearable. He watched your reaction with a mix of satisfaction and desire, clearly enjoying the way he was making you feel.

“Look at me, baby,” he commanded, his voice rough with need. “Look at me while I make you feel good.”

You forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze. The intensity in his eyes was nearly too much to bear, but it made your heart race even faster. His thrusts grew more urgent, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The pressure was building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter with every movement, until you were teetering on the edge of release.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, his hand moved to your throat, his fingers wrapping around your neck with just enough pressure to make your breath hitch. The sensation was intoxicating, the mixture of dominance and desire sending you spiraling closer to the edge.

“Cum on my dick, babygirl. Now,” he growled, his voice thick with authority and desire.

It was as if your body responded to his command on instinct. Your orgasm crashed over you with a force that left you trembling, your entire body shuddering as waves of pleasure rippled through you. You cried out, the sound escaping your lips before you could stop it, but Hugh quickly shushed you, his grip on your throat tightening slightly.

“Quiet, baby,” he murmured, his voice still rough with desire. “There are people here.”

But before you could fully recover from the intensity of your orgasm, he moved again, flipping you over and pulling you on top of him. His strength was evident as he guided you effortlessly, positioning you so that you were straddling him. “Ride me,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding.

Your legs were shaky, still trembling from the powerful orgasm, but he was there to support you. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you as you lowered yourself onto him once again. The sensation of him filling you was overwhelming, but he held you steady, his strong arms lifting you up and down as if you weighed nothing.

As you rode him, he kept his hands on your thighs, his grip firm and possessive. The pleasure built again quickly, the intensity of the position driving you both closer to the edge. You could feel him tensing beneath you, his muscles tightening as he neared his own release.

Just as you were about to cum again, he gripped your thighs tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh as he thrust up into you with a powerful, final movement. “Fuck, I love you,” he groaned, the words spilling out in a raw, primal cry as he came deep inside you.

The confession sent you over the edge once more, your body shuddering as another powerful orgasm ripped through you. You collapsed against him, breathless and spent, as the reality of his words sunk in. He loved you.

As the intensity of the moment slowly faded, you both lay there, breathing heavily, your bodies still tangled together. The reality of what had just happened, Hugh's confession of love, the intensity of your connection, began to sink in, and you found yourself overwhelmed with a mixture of emotions. You could feel his heart beating against your chest, the rhythmic thud steadying you as you processed everything.

Hugh’s arms remained wrapped around you, his hold strong yet gentle, as if he was afraid to let you go. He hadn’t said anything since his declaration, and you could feel the tension in the air. There was a vulnerability in the way he held you, as if he was waiting for your response, unsure of what you might say.

You lifted your head slightly, looking up at him. His eyes met yours, and in them, you saw a mix of worry and hope, emotions that mirrored your own. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his touch tender.

“I didn’t mean to say that,” he murmured softly, his voice still a little rough from the intensity of the moment. “It just… slipped out.”

You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, and it tugged at your heart. Hugh wasn’t the type to open up easily to you, to let his guard down, and the fact that he had done so now, meant more than words could express. But you also knew that he was scared, scared of what loving you might mean, of the risks it entailed, of the future that could be so uncertain.

“Did you mean it?” you asked quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Hugh hesitated for a moment before nodding, his gaze unwavering. “Yes,” he admitted. “I meant every word. I love you… but I didn’t want to say it like that. Not in the middle of—” He trailed off, clearly unsure of how to express himself.

You smiled softly, your heart swelling with affection for this man who had so completely captured your heart. “I love you too, Hugh,” you said, your voice filled with sincerity. “And I don’t care if it slipped out in the middle of… all that. I’m just glad you said it.”

His expression softened at your words, the tension in his body easing slightly. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment as if to seal the promise between you.

“I’ve been trying to fight it,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve been telling myself that you deserve someone younger, someone who can give you a future… but I can’t fight how I feel anymore. I want to be with you, no matter what.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at his confession, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. All the doubts and fears you had been harboring seemed to melt away, leaving only the certainty that you wanted to be with him too, no matter what challenges might lie ahead.

“Hugh, I don’t care about any of that,” you said, your voice firm despite the emotion threatening to overwhelm you. “I love you, and that’s all that matters to me. We’ll figure everything else out together.”

His eyes searched yours, as if looking for any sign of doubt, but all he found was your unwavering commitment. A slow, relieved smile spread across his face, and he pulled you closer, holding you tightly against him as if he never wanted to let you go.

For a long while, the two of you lay there in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the warmth of each other’s embrace. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, connected in a way that felt deeper and more meaningful than ever before.

Eventually, Hugh broke the silence, his voice low and filled with emotion. “I want to do this right,” he said softly. “I want to take you out, treat you like you deserve. I want us to build something real, something lasting.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection. “I’d like that,” you replied, your voice equally soft. “But right now, I just want to stay here with you.”

Hugh chuckled, the sound deep and soothing. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, his arms tightening around you. “We have all the time in the world.”

And with that, the two of you drifted into a peaceful, contented silence, the future ahead of you no longer filled with uncertainty but with the promise of a love that was as deep and enduring as anything either of you had ever known.

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[queenshelby]

The Peaky Role (Part One)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Best Friend's Dad

It has been two days since you received the e-email that would forever change your life and the first person you wanted to tell was not your father Dermont, but rather your best friend Nina.

You could almost feel the weight of the email on your chest as you walked toward the coffee shop where you and Nina often met, the buzz of Dublin’s streets merging into a backdrop of excitement.

You've known Nina ever since highschool. Your two fathers have been friends for years, and their bond essentially stitched together a friendship for the both of you that felt as natural as breathing.

At twenty years old, Nina was the oldest of three children, with her younger brother being seventeen and her other sister being fifteen.

You, on the other hand, were an only child but never felt lonely, thanks to the chaos your friends often brought into your life. You were twenty years old as well and just finished an eighteen months drama course at Dublin's Theatre School, and finally, you felt the thrilling rush of your dreams inching closer.

As you pushed open the cafe door, the bell chimed, pulling Nina’s head up from her book. She looked up, knowingly expectant, and set it aside.

“Tell me you haven’t been here long,” you said, sliding into the seat across from her, breathless with urgency. You had a habit of being late unless it came to work committments and Nina should have been used to it by now.

“Only a few minutes," Nina replied, her blue eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Oh good. I am sorry for being late. Again," you told her with a slight chuckle before breaking out in a big grin.

Nina raised an eyebrow, leaning forward, the hint of a smile dancing on her lips.

"Why are you smiling at me like this?" she asked, her eyebrows knitting together in mock suspicion.

"Well," you started as you tapped your fingers on the table, trying to calm the electric excitement bubbling in your chest.

"I got... I got a part! In a movie!" you told her and Nina immediatly squeaked and nearly knocked her coffee over.

"What? A movie? How? When? What's it called?" she wanted to know and, even though her father was a rather famous Oscar winning actor with countless accolades, the excitement in her voice sounded genuine, almost as if she didn’t have connections to the industry.

“Don't get angry, but," you began to respond, drawing it out “I auditioned for the Peaky movie six weeks ago, and I just found out that I got a part!”

Her eyes widened as she leaned back, processing your words as if they were a punchline to a joke.

"You know that you could have asked my dad for a role or something, right?" Nina said, excitedly nonetheless.

“I know, but I wanted to do this on my own. I didn’t want his name backing me up,” you said, excitement battling against nerves.

Nina pressed her lips together, reconsidering. “Well, congratiolations then. I think that’s huge!" she chimmed in excidetly.

“Thanks! It feels surreal to even say it out loud. I auditioned for three different roles and I didn't expect to get any of them to be honest," you said as you propped your chin on your hands, watching the steam rise from her coffee.

“But you are fantastic and Steven Knight would have seen that right away ," she replied, her voice filled with sincerity.

"Now tell me though, does my dad know yet?" she asked before carrying on. "How about your dad? Does he know?" she wanted to know, excitement evident in her voice.

“Not sure about your dad, seeing how he is a producer on the show, but I haven't told anyone yet. I wanted you to be the first to know," you said, leaning forward.

Nina's eyes sparkled with mischief as she wanted to know more about your first movie role. “Well, he hasn't said anything to me yet, so I guess he does not know," Nina stated, a big smile stretching across her lips. "Now tell me though, what role did they give you?" she asked and, of course, this was a question you dreaded to answer.

You hesitated, the words caught in your throat. “I’m playing… Thomas Shelby's new love interest," you told her with a hint of ermberassment in your voice and watched as her face froze mid-sip.

“Wait, hold up. Thomas Shelby's love interest?" she gasped, nearly spilling her coffee. "You mean his new wife or his new fling, because from what I understand, there two roles like this in the movie," Nina said, having secretly read the script.

"The fling. The young girl he meets in Small Heath,” you clarified, leaning in, your voice lowering slightly, almost conspiratorially as if sharing a secret with her. "I would be way too young to play his wife," you clarified as Nina leaned back, wide-eyed, her fingers curling around her coffee cup as if bracing for impact.

“Jesus Y/N,” Nina continued, her eyes narrowing. "You can't possibly take that role," she declared, her voice scratching at the edges of disbelief.

"Why not?" you asked, a little suprised by her change in demure.

“Because it means you’ll have to make out with my dad!” she blurted out, her voice rising an octave as if discovering a scandal in a soap opera.

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “It’s just acting, Nina!" you chuckle, feeling amused by her dramatic reaction.

“You still need to kiss him, don't you?" Nina gripped her coffee cup tightly, her eyes wide with mock horror. "I mean, eeww!"

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a grin. "It's not that bad," you continued, the laughter bubbling up again. “It’s like a stage kiss. You just… do it. Lights, camera, action, and then you move on. It's all pretend.”

Nina scoffed, shaking her head like you’d just offered her brussels sprouts for dessert.

“Pretend or not, it’s still my dad,” she huffed, crossing her arms like a stubborn child. "He is old and it's disgusting!"

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Your dad is not that old. He’s—”

“Forty-eight!” she interjected, voice booming like an air horn.

“He looks younger," you defended, defending both Cillian’s age and your newfound opportunity.

Nina rolled her eyes, her expression a blend of disbelief and exasperation. “You’re seriously going to kiss my dad on camera, and if that doesn’t scream 'public embarrassment,' for the both of us then I don’t know what does!”

You leaned back, arms crossed in mock defiance. "He might be your dad, but I can positivly guarantee you that a lot of girls our age would so want to be me when that happens," you mused, joking about the tidal wave of jealousy that was bound to crash over their heads.

Nina rolled her eyes dramatically. “Right,” she laughed like the devil's advocate has appeared. "I am so not going to watch this movie now," she proclaimed, shaking her head before deciding to finally change the topic.

****

Meanwhile, Cillian arrived on set in Liverpool. He had flown in from Dublin that same morning in order to attend a meeting between the producers and the casting director.

Filming was just around the corner, starting in less than eight weeks, and only a few days ago, the final cast members were selected by Shaheen, the casting director.

Cillian stepped into the bustling studio, the air thick with excitement, chatter, and the hum of activity. Crew members maneuvered around with equipment while costumes were being meticulously arranged nearby amidst the chaos. Cillian walked through the flurry, his deep blue eyes scanning the room, searching for familiar faces.

There was a lot to get ready now and everything had to be done swiftly.

“Cillian!” Shaheen’s voice cut through the chatter, pulling his attention. He turned to see the casting director striding toward him, the usual energy in her step indicating that there was something important to discuss.

"We had a few last minute changes to the cast as three of our initially selected applicants are no longer available," she said, her brow furrowing slightly.

Cillian sighed, bracing for whatever news followed. “What’s the change? I thought things were solid by now.”

“Right, so the change is—” Shaheen started, pulling out the list. "We have secured Rebecca Ferguson now to play Thomas Shelby's wife. But we already discussed this possibility last week and you approved." Shaheen explained and Cillian nodded, recalling the conversation with Shaheen and Steven and welcoming the change.

"We also have a young man by the name of James Dwyer who will be playing one of the new gang members. It's not a big part, but integral. He seemed talanted and has the right looks. You've got some scenes with him," she continued, flipping through her notes.

"Right, sounds good so far," Cillian replied, nodding approvingly. He continued to scan the room, searching faces for anyone he knew. "Then there's the last casting announcement," Shaheen said, her fingers flicking through the papers. Cillian’s interest piqued, his gaze sharpening.

“Go on, then. Hit me with it,” he urged, curiosity knotting in his stomach.

Shaheen took a breath, seemingly savoring the suspense. “We were trying to find the perfect fit for Thomas Shelby’s love interest, and after extensive auditions, the role went to a somewhat unknown actress instead of the talents you had in mind," she said, glancing at her notes again before locking eyes with Cillian. "But she was by far the most talanted and fits the description of the role," she concluded.

“Okay, what's her name?” Cillian asked, wondering whether he had heard of it before.

“Y/N Whelan,” Shaheen said, her voice steady but the slightest hint of curiosity danced in her eyes. "I believe she is from Dublin too," she explained as Cillian choked on his water.

He coughed, a ripple of confusion mixing with the unexpected twist of emotion. “Y/N Whelan?” he asked before he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, disbelief creeping into his features as he processed the information.

“Yes," Shaheen nodded, her brow furrowing slightly at his reaction as she handed him your application form with photograph. “Do you know her?”

Cillian stared at the photograph, disbelief washing over him. Your bright eyes sparkled with a mix of ambition and innocence, while a playful smile graced your lips. It was all too surreal. Cillian stared at the photograph, his mind racing.

“Fuck," Cillian muttered under his breath, running a hand through his grey hair, suddenly feeling the weight of this new development.

“What’s wrong?” Shaheen raised an eyebrow, sensing the shift in his

"She is my best friend’s daughter,” he said, barely masking the surprise in his voice as he rubbed his temple, feeling the heat of an immovable conflict settling in.

Shaheen blinked, clearly processing the revelation. “And that’s an issue… why?"

Cillian leaned against the table, wrestling with his thoughts. “Because I don’t want to be the one making out with her on screen. She's new to the industry. She’s got that raw talent, sure, but she’s… she’s Y/N,” he stuttered, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

“Cillian,” Shaheen interrupted, her voice steadying as she placed a hand on his arm. “She was by far the best for the role and you know how this works but, if you want me to cast someone else, then I will do it,” she offered, her tone firm but gentle.

Cillian shook his head, torn. “No, no. That’s not fair to her. She earned it,” he replied, positioning himself upright, resolving to put aside his discomfort.

Tags:

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[jamdoughnutmagician]

After All This Time

Eddie Munson x Reader

Silly little drabble based on this text post by @mantorokk-writes becasue I couldn't stop thinking about what a cute idea it was!! Maybe I strayed a little from the original prompt but 🤷‍♀️

Warnings:Nothing that I can think of, unless badly-written fluff counts?

Word Count:1,120

Masterlist Eddie Munson Masterlist

"Still can't believe you've kept it after all this time"

A shaggy mess of dark bouncy curls stomps up to the counter in the arcade before slamming down a handful of tickets and proudly pointing to the ring underneath the glass counter.

Eddie looks at you with his big brown eyes and an even bigger gap-toothed smile. You return his smile and nod your head, holding his hand in yours, your fingers inter-twining together.

“That one please!” he says to the older kid working behind the counter.

The ring he’s pointing to is a chunky pink ring with a big silver heart shaped gem in the centre of it.

The boy behind the counter hand the ring over Eddie 

“Here you go, kid.” the boy behind the counter smiles.

Eddie immediately grabs your left hand and slides the plastic ring over your ring finger.

“There!” he smiles brightly, his rosy freckled cheeks flush under the rainbow glow of the fluorescent arcade lights. “You have to wear this ring because you’re my girlfriend and I love you!”

You hold your hand out in front of you, admiring the ring in all its fake, plastic glory.

“Eddie!!” you giggle as you lean in to kiss him on the cheek. “I love it!”

“And when I’m old enough I’m gonna get you a real ring, and I’m gonna marry you, that way we can be best friends together forever.” he tells you with a confident nod of his head, his shaggy hair bouncing as he does.

You had moved away when you were nine years old and it had been tough on both you and Eddie. He was the closest thing that you had to a best friend and now you had to move away to Chicago because your dad had got a job there and moving there just made things easier. Despite Chicago being only a three hour drive away from Hawkins, in your young mind it might as well have been on the other side of the world. 

You promised to call each other every night, and so you did. Never wanting to miss out on hearing the sound of your best friend's voice as you swap stories about your days. The phone calls sometimes going on into the late hours of the evening up until the rasping voice of Uncle Wayne could be heard in the background, reminding Eddie that he was racking up a phone bill longer than his arm.

Of course you would visit each other each summer, one year Eddie and Wayne would make their way up to you, and the next; you and your family would spend some time back in Hawkins during the school's summer break.

As you got older you got closer. Closer than most best friends do. You had been each other’s first loves since you were children playing together in the schoolyard, and then as two giggling pre-teens holding hands in a dark movie theatre. You had been each other’s first kiss. It wasn’t anything special. It had been clumsy, and ungraceful as you bumped noses with each other, but it was sweet, and charming and most importantly it was you and your Eddie.

No matter how old you got, you always made time for each other. Last year Eddie had surprised you by coming down to visit you all by himself. Driving up in his van just to see you.

That summer you spent your time together watching the sun fall in the back of his van, counting the stars and getting lost in each other's touch. Holding each other close like you had always dreamed of.

You’d moved back to Hawkins after 10 years of living in Chicago, coming back to the town you grew up in all those years ago. 

The moment you got back you immediately made your way down to the very familiar site of Forest Hills trailer park. Stepping towards the old tattered door of the Munson trailer you knock your fist against the door excitedly.

You giggle to yourself at the grumbling voice you hear walking towards the door on the inside, grouching about "who the hell would be knocking our door at this time of day?"

The door swings open, and there he is. The boy that you fell in love with all those summers ago. 

"W-what are you doing here?" He asks, immediately bringing you into an almost bone-crushing hug.

"I'm back!" You smiled broadly "..and I'm back for good this time! Didn't think you could get rid of me that easily, did you, Eddie?" You teased.

“I can’t believe you’ve kept it after all this time.” Eddie said, nodding his head towards the small plastic ring that you’ve got hanging on a chain around your neck. "I mean, we were kids when I won that for you." He smiles, playfully nudging your arm 

“You won it for me, so it’s special to me” you smiled as you toyed the ring hanging around your neck. "I remember you telling me that as long as I had this ring, we were going to be together forever." You say, catching his eyes in a quick glance. 

"I also remember saying something about giving you a real ring, sweetheart.." 

Oh he remembered that moment just as well as you had done. He'd been thinking about it, about you ever since. 

Sliding the clunky metal skull ring off his finger, he takes your hand in his and slides the ring over your finger.

"It doesn't have to mean anything now, but I love you, I've always loved you and I just want you to have this."

It doesn't have to mean anything now. 

But it does. It means everything to you. You knew you loved him, you always had done. Just as he'd loved you, you loved him just the same.

You smile down at the large chunky ring on your finger, and a small tear escapes the corner of your eye, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with emotions. 

"It's perfect." You tell him, before leaning into him, placing the most gentle of kisses against his plush pink lips. 

You feel him smile against your lips, his arms wrapping around you, to pull you deeper into the kiss like he's always longed to do.

"You know, this one was always my favourite one of your rings" you grin.

Oh yeah, you were the girl for him. No doubt about it. He was going to marry you one day for sure. Eddie knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, he could never imagine his future without you in it, he didn’t want to imagine it. He wanted to be with you forever and always, and he could only hope that you felt the same.

@sunflowerdaydreamer @munsonology @xxhellfiregirlxx @i-me-mine @penguinsandpotterheads @galaxy-siren

[whorekneecentral]

DadBstf!seb just teaching you how to fuck after your dad asked him to stay at the house with you whilst he’s away

this fucks. so much. you get it. you get me.

Just as you arrived home for summer break, your parents were leaving for the 25th wedding anniversary trip. Although you were 20 and had stayed home alone a million times over, your parents, well your dad, still didn't trust you to stay at home alone. 

As an extra precaution, he asked his best friend, Sebastian, to stay with you for the few days they'd be gone. 

You and Sebastian always co-existed, you got along just fine and there was no bad blood but it's not like you spent a lot of time having conversations with him. Truthfully, for most of your life, Sebastian popped in for a weekend here and there or your parents took a trip to see him race. Even when you did watch the races, he wasn't really there -  he was mostly focussed on his race. 

But now it was just the two of you, in the house for the next six days. 

Sebastian have left earlier that day, knocking on your door and telling you that he's got some errands to run and he would be back later that afternoon. You shouted okay and rolled over and went back to sleep. 

It was nearly 6, when you heard the front door unlocked. Sebastian coming in with a few bags before returning to the living room to check on you. 

“What’re you watching?” He asked, walking around to sit next to you on the couch. “Oh uh, fifty shades.” You shrugged, “they finally put the second part on and I fell asleep in the theatre when we went to go see it.” 

“Are you old enough to be watching this?” Seb looked over at you, deadpan but you laughed. “Very funny,” you reached for the remote, “I can change it, we can watch something else.” 

“No no,” Seb shook his head, settling in on the couch. “Don’t change it on account of me, watch your movie.” 

The two of you sit in silence for a bit, focussed on the movie, playing on screen. And, of course, as expected, a sex scene on. You hear Sebastian snicker and you look over at him, confused. 

“What?” You asked, “you’re not that childish, are you?” You joked and he shook his head. 

“It looks so.. forced. I know it’s not real but they didn’t even try to make it seem real.” 

“I wouldn’t know the difference,” you shrugged, turning your attention back to the scene. Sebastian was curious, everyone knew that but they also knew curiosity was what killed the cat. 

He shifts to face you, “what does that mean?” 

“I had sex once at this party but I was drunk and from what I can remember, it wasn’t that great.” 

“Well that’s no good,” he says and you shrug once again, “that’s life.” 

“It doesn’t have to be that way.” He looks at you and you look back to him, brows furrowed. “What does that mean?” 

Sebastian scoots a little closer. “I can show you.. if you’d like.” 

“We shouldn't,” you turn to face him. 

He shrugs, “what’s the harm?” He pulls your leg and now you're face to face with him. “You need a real man to show you how to fuck.” His hand comes up to rest on your cheek and you find yourself leaning into him. You close the gap, kissing the man.

It was heavy, heated. His hands on your body, pulling you over and onto him. You were perched on his lap, Seb’s hands on your ass when he kisses you.

Not a word is spoken between the two of you, what little clothes you had on was gathered in a pile on the floor when he rolls you two over again. You were flat on your back, Seb settled between your legs.

“Are we-” you cut him off with a kiss. “Please,” your hand rested on his jaw, “Seb please.”

He nods, there wasn't much else to say. Not that anything makes sense at the moment, it was all physical. His hand slips between the two of you, his fingers rubbing slow circles on your clit. Your hips lift, wanting more from him.

Seb’s hand wandered a little lower, a finger pushed in slowly. He can feel how wet you are, wrapped around his finger and he smiles.

“All of this for me?” He asks, cocky as ever.

“God, just fuck me.” You mumble, not wanting to wait. You waited long enough.

Seb nods, barely pushing into you. Your hands grip on his biceps, his lips finding yours when he pushes in all the way, muffling the moans that left your lips. 

He pulls one of your legs up to hitch on his hip. “Fuck,” you breath, his thrusts faster and harder. How you wished you could scream his name right now. Seb’s hand drops between the two of you, rubbing your clit; matching the pace of his hips.

Your head falls back into the pillows when he hits the spot he was looking for. His fingers that were previous on your clit now shoved into your mouth to muffle the sounds tumbling from your lips.

Seb leans down, his lips next to your ear; “you know those boys couldn't satisfy you the way I do.” 

[yelenabemylova]

Affliction - Older!Natasha Romanoff x Reader (epiphany au chapter one)

summary: after being shot multiple times in the field, natasha decides it is time to take control of her own life

warnings: blood, injury, inaccurate medical terms i learned from grey's anatomy, slight angst, age gap (nat is 36, r is 20)

"Natasha, please," you sobbed, tears streaming down your face.

"She's in v-fib, charge to 100," a doctor announced.

"Clear!" Bruce shouted as he shocked your wife with defibrillator paddles, everyone taking their hands off of her lifeless body.

Shaking, you cried aloud, "don't you dare die on me, Romanoff." Maria came over to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, "it's okay, they're gonna save her."

Dr Cho grabbed her phone, "I need another two units of O-neg in trauma room 3 right now."

Bruce shocked her again, sighing in relief when the monitor began to steadily beep again, "sinus tach, we have a rhythm."

"Tasha," you hugged her tightly, being soaked by the blood spilling from her abdomen in multiple places. "Detka, I'm so sorry," she held you close to her, kissing the top of your head over and over again.

"It's okay, you're okay," you told her, but she knew you were reassuring yourself just as much, if not more. "Hey, hey, malysh. Listen to me," her hands trembled as she reached up to hold your face, blood smearing across your cheeks.

You leaned into her touch, your eyes closing as you sniffled lightly. "Everything is going to be fine, I promise. Soon, we'll be back in our bed, eating junk food and watching all of our favourite movies. Stay strong for me, pretty girl," she was soon taken away into an operating theatre, leaving you alone to pace in the waiting room.

Wanda kept you company, lending you a shoulder to cry on and supplying you with an abundance of tissues.

Time felt as though it slowed down while you waited for Natasha's return, your only source of distraction being the various members of the team coming to check on you.

Peter brought a deck of cards, letting you win every game to try to raise your spirits. You caught onto the boy's plan quickly, but didn't mention it.

Yelena pulled a gun from one of her vest pockets when a member of staff told her she couldn't bring her dog, Fanny, in. She sat on the floor with you while you wept and drifted in and out of feel, not even laughing at you once. The pain you were feeling was both understood and shared by the blonde.

A gentle hand shook you awake, dragging you into a room far too bright for your liking. Groggily, you stumbled into a sharp corner, falling to the ground in an exhausted haze.

Quiet laughter echoed throughout the room as a strong pair of arms lifted you off the floor, mumbling something about you being a 'stupid idiot' in Russian.

"Shut up, Lena," you groaned, assessing your surroundings. The source of the prior laugh was laid in a small bed, a thin blanket draped over her. Your eyes began to water, "oh god, Nat."

She beckoned you over to her, shuffling over to one side of the bed so you could squeeze in close to her side. "I thought I lost you," you kissed her cheek. "You can't get rid of me that easily, dorogoya," she tenderly brushed hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

Recovery wasn't easy for Natasha. All she wanted to do was get back out into the field, to which you objected strongly.

Even showering seemed to be an impossible task for her, standing for so long was too painful and she often called you in to help her. Of course, you didn't mind. You would take any excuse to admire her toned muscles, and you swore she purposefully flexed them every time she caught you trying to subtly take a look.

One evening, you found her lying in bed, white as a sheet, shivering intensely. "Nat, what's wrong?" you ran over to her, cradling her face gently. "My stomach hurts and I'm freezing," she croaked weakly.

Taking a look at her wound, your eyes widened at the sight of the infected area surrounding her sutures. "FRIDAY, get Bruce in here, right now," you held your wife's hand shakily. "Of course, Mrs Romanoff, right away," the AI replied.

"I love you," you told her as you waited in the infirmary together, afraid of what was going to happen to her. "Malyshka," she kissed your hand, "I think it's time for me to retire."

Taken aback slightly, you tilted your head, silently asking her to elaborate. "I want to stay safe and healthy for you, moya lyubov. Risking my life every other day isn't fair to you, I want us to have a stable marriage where I get to cherish every moment we share. You're the light of my life, the reason I get up every morning and the only girl I ever want in my life," her voice was strained, and she took many pauses between her words.

"I don't want you to stop doing the job you love just because of me," you told her. "It's for myself as well, I've never been able to experience a normal life. If I wasn't fighting for the red room, I was an agent here and I'm exhausted. After thirty-six years, I think I'm ready to live life the way I want to," the sincerity and pain behind her eyes made you realise that she was right, retirement seemed to be a beneficial option to both of you.

Smiling widely, you held her hand the entire time she was getting assessed by the doctors, excited for the next chapter of your life you would get to spend with her.

She was prescribed some antibiotics and soon enough, Natasha was back on her feet, struggling to find things to do when the days felt so long. The avengers were always arguing loudly, irritating her beyond insanity.

Flicking through a magazine, a large house in a small neighbourhood caught her eye. Over the course of the next few weeks, she bought the house and bought some furniture for it.

Walking into your room in the compound, your shoulders relaxed and your jaw unclenched when you saw Natasha sitting against the headboard of the bed. "Hi, pretty girl," she looked up from her book, putting her bookmark in place before beckoning you closer to her.

"I missed you, Tasha," you straddled her lap, nuzzling your face into her neck. "Are you okay?" she asked you, running her fingers through your slightly knotted hair. "The guys have too much energy," your voice was shaky, it was evident that you were overwhelmed from the interaction you had just shared with them.

Natasha felt slightly guilty, there was a perfect house ready to be lived in by the two of you but she hadn't found the right moment to tell you about it yet.

Staring into her beautiful green eyes, you felt at ease. No one compared to her, nobody in the world even came close. "I have something to show you," she picked you up, your thighs instinctively wrapping around her waist.

She took you down to the garage, helping you sit on the back of her motorcycle before driving across the city. Street lights illuminated the beautiful buildings until Natasha brought you to a slightly less bright area.

"Where are we?" you looked around at the big mansions, in awe of the sheer size of them.

"Home, detka."

[parkerpeter24]

haiii can i req the very last prompt off of list 2 with mcu!peter :) and can it be gn please ^^ :) thank youuu

yes. hope you like it! <3

pairing: mcu!peter x gn!reader

winter blurbs 2.0 ❄️ | 2.0 masterlist ❄️

peter promised to hold your hand throughout the movie when he showed you two tickets for ‘jingle all the way’ but when he didn’t show up at seven you started wondering if he was late finding a christmas present for you like howard.

the theatre near your apartment was playing classic christmas movies and you were more than excited to watch them with peter.

you called him, tapping your feet against the carpeted floor as you sat on the couch outside the movie hall. after five rings, he picked it up.

“hey, y/n!” his voice came, though it sounded like he was running, or something akin to that.

“peter, where are you? i think the movie is starting.”

as if on cue, the door pushed open and in came a very red peter. you got up, cutting the call, “hey, y/n” he smiled.

“hey, you okay?” you chuckled, walking over to him. he nodded, standing up straighter.

“i just had to get some groceries for may and that took so much time because it’s almost christmas and it’s so crowded-” you smiled at your friends’s constant rambling. you weren’t sure if you were allowed to call him your boyfriend yet because this was only your second date and neither of you had asked each other if you wanted to make it official, “-and i know i promised to take you for hot chocolate but maybe we can just go to my place and make it because-”

during his constant rambling your eyes caught something interesting.

a mistletoe. right above peter.

your heart sped up. were you supposed to point it out to him?

peter seemed to notice what was happening. he looked up at the mistletoe, “oh.” he chuckled nervously, “does that mean we should... kiss?”

“well, w-we’ve never done that before.”

“do you not want to?” peter asked genuinely. he wouldn’t wanna do anything to scare you away. you were always so understanding for him.

“it’s not that i don’t want to!” you assured him quickly, “i-it’s just that i’ve never really-” your sentence was cut short by peter pinching your nose gently. you looked at him, confused, “what was that for?”

“you know, we can do this under the mistletoe instead, if we’re not there yet.” he smiled.

you didn’t know you could be more fond of peter until that moment. he held your hand throughout the movie just like he promised and you could swear you watched more of him than the movie.

the two of you walked out of the cinema, a more than half eaten popcorn tub in your hands when peter pinched your nose again. you looked at him confused once more, “what?”

peter just pointed up, “mistletoe.”

since that day, anytime peter spotted a mistletoe– whether it was at a grocery store, or at a coffee shop– he would pull you over to the place, and pinch your nose, making you laugh.

another few days passed like that and before you knew it was new year’s eve. you had invited peter over to your apartment for dinner along with a few of your friends.

you’d taken your chance and hung up a mistletoe near the entrance door and as expected peter was the first one to reach. you opened the door, smiling wide, “hi there!”

peter threw your arms around you, “happy new year’s eve!”

“happy new year’s eve.” you laughed, parting from him as he handed you a brown bag.

“loving what you’ve done with the place.” he smiled. his eyes finally travelled to the mistletoe over the two of you. he grinned, going to pinch your nose once more but before he could, you leaned forward and placed a small peck on his lips.

peter looked at you in surprise, cheeks slowly turning red, “was that okay?”

“more than okay.” it was peter’s turn to lean closer to you now. he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer, sealing the gap between your lips once again, this time kissing you properly.

you caressed his cheek, smiling into the kiss.

best way to start a new year.

taglist | masterlist ✨

taglist : @httphollands @the-girl-in-the-chair @annathesillyfriend @uwiuwi @spideyspeaches @prancerrparkerr @usergarfields @theglitterymess @quaksonhehe @lowkey-holland @starlight-starks @piscesparker @incorrectsourwolf @wildxwidow @annab-nana @blankspaceblankday @kelieah @arvinsvintage @parkersdahlia @raajali3 @tommyfroggie @saturnpeter @ellabellabus07 @holland-styles

[bubbl3sworld]

Friendly Conversation {Hopper x F!Sinclair! Reader}

Authors Note: Honestly this is just me having Daddy issues, I’m so sorry. I just started Stranger Things.

This contains: Age gap, Stalking, slight paranoia, literally slight realism of a cop being a cop, Don’t read if you don’t like cops being dickheads.

Jim Hopper knows he’s a shit cop, he gets way to much credit then he should.

But all he knows is that he’s better then the rest of his department and that’s all that truly mattered. But that doesn’t explain why he sat in the mall parking lot, staring at the familiar car sitting five spots over. He rolls down his window, tapping his cigarette ash out onto the ground. He had better things to be doing, he got called to the station two hours ago but bluntly blew off the call. His eyes squints as the doors to the movie theatre opened, there she was with the seven teens and her two other friends.

He could hear slight chatter among them, trying his best to make out what they were saying.

“Okay who’s riding with who?” She cocked her head to the side as she began fishing through her purse for her keys. “I got space for, four.” “Me! I call shotgun!” Erica’s hand flew up first, waving it around. “Unfair! She’s still supposed to be in a booster seat!” Lucas argued, nudging his younger sister slightly. “Nuh uh! I don’t need no booster seat! I’d be damned if I gotta sit with you and you’re girlfriend!” “Erica!” Steve exclaimed. “Language!” Erica scoffed and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.

“Okay, So Erica, Lucas, Max, and…?” “Can I ride with you guys?” Will asked next. “Of course William, Alright my car is filled” The black girl pulled out her keys, twirling them around her finger. “Cmon, we’re gonna follow behind Robin and Steve” The five of them began walking to the car.

Hopper watched from the back of the lot, taking another long drag from the cigarette. He watched as the group separated to get in their cars, he waited until they pulled off far enough to follow.

He knows he’s a piece of shit, he’s not the greatest nor the best. He probably deserves to be ignored by her, but he at least wants to know why this time around. He followed behind her for a bit before cutting on the sirens, putting on his right blinker to signal her to pull over. He could see her angry hand motions in the back window. She pulled over, she stuck her hand out the window to signal the red car to keep going forward.

He pulled behind her, tapping his foot gently on the break before putting his car in park. He was starting to regret doing this, immediately he wanted to pop a u and go back to the station but there was no stopping now. He steps out of the car, flicking the cigarette on the ground and crushing it underneath his boot. He approached the car, placing his arm on top of the roof and leaning down. She lowered her sunglasses to look at the cop, scoffing.

“You look like shit”

“License and Registration please”

“Erica” She held her hand out for her sister, the little girl immediately reached up for the visor to hand off the items to her. She hands the two items to Hopper, slamming them in his hand almost. The man looked at her ID and her paper, he really had no interest but he had to look like he gave a shit. “You know why I pulled you over Y/n?” “You tell me, it’s your job right?” Y/n leaned back in her seat, irritation growing in her eyes. “Y/n…” Lucas mumbled from the backseat, clearly concerned by his sister’s attitude.

“You’re tags expired, and she’s too young to be up front” Hopper said pointing towards Erica. “Well, Jim. I was actually headed to the DMV tomorrow, but I got a feeling you knew that” Hopper and Y/n had an intense stare off, Hopper folded first and turned his head away. “Why don’t you step out the car”

“What?” Erica said leaning forward, immediately latching onto her sister. “She didn’t do anything! Why are you digging for things you can’t even find!” “I’m going to need you to be quiet, you already are getting her into some trouble” “It’s fine Erica” Y/n reassures her sister, gently moving her hand to back to her lap. “I’ll be fine, meanwhile one y’all switch seats with her” Y/n finally stepped out of the car, following Hopper away from her car.

“We need to talk”

“Really Jim? You fucking pull me over when I’m with my siblings?!” Y/n yelled at him when they were behind his van, she was heated at the man. “You fucking lost it” “Watch. Your tone.” He said sternly, his hand rested on his hip, trying to find the right words. “I just, wanted to know if you were alright” Y/n crossed her arms, rolling her eyes as much as she could. “I’m fuckin peachy, well until you pulled me over Hopscotch.” Y/n put her hand on her lip, looking at her other hand that showed off her new set of nails.

Hopper took in her appearance, she had on track suit bottoms with a cropped white tank that was extremely low cut. “Nice set, I pay for those?”

“If that what you want to think James,” Y/n yawned. “What you want, I know you really didn’t pull me over for expired tags” “I…” Hopper paused, trying to find his words. “…Just missed you, wanted to check on you” Y/n fought the urge to giggle in his face, she most definitely didn’t think she’d had the chief of Hawkins hooked on her. She didn’t want to get ahead of herself, she put back up her upset persona. “So you pulled me over with my siblings and their friends in the car?” Jim took off his hat, arching his eyebrow. “Would you rather me showing up at your door?”

“Fair” Y/n tapped her finger against her cheek. “I’m taking you out tonight, be home by eight” Hopper placed his hat back on his head, turning his back to walk towards his driver side. “Don’t make me look around and find you” he said as he opened up his car door and got in. “Okay that’s nice ‘n all, but can I have my documents back?” Y/n walked towards his driver side, leaning on his door. Hopper pulled down his shades and gave her a smirk, holding up her paper and ID. “I think I’ll hold on to this until tonight, so you don’t go forgetting”

Y/n grips her fist as she bit down on her tongue. This man couldn’t be serious! He nodded his head towards her car, “Aren’t you so concerned for your siblings?” He mocked in a low pitch tone. Y/n stared at him for a few seconds before storming off towards her car. She opens her door to get in before slamming it behind her. Hopper kept himself from laughing, letting a slight chuckle slip past his lips. She could be so cute. He takes his car out of park and began to drive around her, staring at the car through his visor before she was finally out of sight.

Y/n sighed angrily as she sat in her car. “What happened! What did he say? Did he give you a ticket-“ “Lucas!!” Y/n shouts, more out of frustration at the situation then her brother. “Not now!” Lucas sunk in the passenger seat, mumbling something under his breath. “I don’t want this being spoken to no one, not even to our parents. Got it?” Y/n looked up at the visor to face her sister in the back seat who nodded almost immediately. She turned to Lucas who rolled his eyes and slowly nodded. “Yes.”

Y/n began driving again to the restaurant, they were at least fifteen minutes late and she knew that Robin was going to have questions. She had to hurry up and make an story so they wouldn’t get suspicious. She pulled into the restaurant parking lot, and much to her ‘excitement’ they stood outside waiting for them. She pulled into the parking spot and parked. Everyone began to get out the car to meet up with the group.

“Hey! What took you dickheads so long!” Dustin waves them over as they began to group up. “Why did the chief pull you over?” “Ah, my tail light” Y/n immediately answered, hoping no one would cross check her. “He let me off with a warning though life is good” “Uh huh…” Robin seemed a bit off about it but shrugged it off. Steve opened up the doors and nodded his head off, “Come on, your lucky the wait was long anyways”

Everyone began to walk into the restaurant, Y/n being the last through the doors. She paused for a minute, getting a glimpse of something in the corner of her eye. “Y/n? Come on! My arm is getting tired!!” Y/n snapped her head back to Steve, glaring harshly. “Shut up Harrington!!” Y/n went through the doors. As she sat in the lobby, she couldn’t help but be paranoid. She knew he was watching, he always was. God she should’ve listened to her instincts to not mess with a cop, one little argument and all of a sudden he has eyes on her everywhere.

Meanwhile, Hopper sat towards the back of the lot once again, watching the group through the windows, mainly her. He lit up another cigarette and laid back in his seat, He had another hour or two before he had to go back on patrol. He smirks as he watch her look at his car, as long as she knew.

[cevaannss]

Just Friends (Reader x Chris Evans)

Pairing: Reader x Chris Evans

Prompt: “you say we are just friends, but friends don’t know the way you taste” but with a happy ending? - Anon

Warnings: R rating, Some sexual content/Smut, Minors DNI. Brief mentions of/allusions to anxiety.

Authors Notes: This is my first prompt fill on here in years, so I might be a little rusty any feedback is appreciated, please let me know if there’s anything I missed warning or tagging. I also didn’t intend for this to be so long but I got a little carried away with it.

When you and Chris first met, you had been young, wide eyed, fresh faced kids. He was barely 20, filming at your old high school, and you a member of the local theatre group were recruited as an extra. You had graduated a year prior and were coming to the end of your gap year, you would be going to college in a few short months. After seeing each other in passing on set, you and Chris had your first conversation in the kraft services trailer, both leaning in to grab the last remaining bagel. After a back and forth of “you take it” “no you” “seriously its okay” you agreed to split it and thus began your friendship.

It was weird, from that first day you had a connection like neither of you had experienced with anyone else. You talked daily, would be each other’s dates to your friends weddings, hung out with each other’s families without the other around. You were mistaken for boyfriend and girlfriend many times throughout your years of friendship but that was never what it was about. You’d both dated plenty, often times ending relationships because the person you were seeing couldn’t deal with your closeness to each other. But for you both that was just how it was, and if they couldn’t accept it then they weren’t worth your time. Maybe they were right, you had always had a crush on Chris, and you had a feeling it was reciprocated but you’d always had an understanding, a common ground that you were friends and that’s all you’d ever needed to be.

The first time you had edged into more than friends territory was on Chris’ 37th birthday. You had thrown him a party at his house and he had been a little, okay a lot drunk and while you weren’t far behind him you were still sober enough to take care of his messy ass. After everyone had left you had attempted to clean up a bit, collecting garbage and wiping down the kitchen, the whole time Chris was passed out on his couch. You had managed to wake him enough to get him up and into his bedroom, out of his jeans and shoes and into his bed. You bought him a glass of water and two Advil placing them on his beside table, him grabbing your wrist as you placed the water down, pulling you on top of him into a half hug as he tended to do when he was drunk. He’d always been touchy when he was drunk, letting his hands linger on you longer than normal but it had always been innocent. He mumbled something into your ear, something he’d said a million times, and you replied the same response you had given a million more. But what he said next had changed it all.

“No, not like that”

It stopped you in your tracks because what did he mean not like that. It had to be like that. It had always been like that. This wasn’t how this went. Not for the two of you. You weren’t “those” friends.

“Then like what” you had whispered, panic setting in, soberness hitting you like a Mack truck as you looked back at him. But of course he had fallen asleep again, dead to the world, arm wrapped around your waist as you perched on the edge of his bed. Silence filling the air except for the light snoring he was emitting.

The next morning you had been awoken by clattering coming from the kitchen. Stumbling out of the guest room you walked in to Chris attempting to make breakfast, standing in the door way you watched him, his eyes squinted and slow moving, lingering proof of his previous inebriation. He was making blueberry pancakes, it was a post birthday tradition, but you were usually the one who made them for him on the day after his birthday.

Seeing him standing there sliding another half burnt pancake onto the stack he had started made you smile, he tried bless him, but he was never great in the kitchen. The conversation from last night soon flooded your memory and you couldn’t stop yourself.

“What did you mean”

Chris looked up from pouring more batter into the pan, finally noticing your presence.

“Morning” he mumbled, clearly not fully awake yet “What do you mean, what did I mean?”

“Last night, in your room, you said you loved me...”

“I always say I love you?” He let out a low chuckle but looked confused, you weren’t sure if he really didn’t remember or if he was just pleading ignorance, usually you were quick to spot if he was lying but this time your radar couldn’t pin it. He turned his attention back to flipping the pancake in the pan.

“Yeah but when I said I love you too bestie... you said ‘No, not like that’ what did you mean?”

His head snapped up, redness filling his cheeks, and it was in that moment that you had known things were changing whether you had wanted them to or not.

“Oh” you said, your breath escaping you, as the realization hit.

“Yeah” he said eyes focused on the pancake burning in the pan.

“Chris...”

He pulled the pan off the stove dumping the last pancake on the plate before placing the pan in the sink letting the cold water run over it before turning back to face you.

“I don’t...what do you want me to say” He started, raising his voice slightly, obviously flustered. “You want me to say I was drunk and didn’t know what I was saying? Because I cant okay, I can’t say that. Would I have said it if I were sober? No, probably not...in fact definitely not. But I did and I can’t take it back or just pretend I didn’t because I do love you, I’ve always loved you”

“I’ve always loved you too Chris” you looked up, your eyes connecting with his blue ones.

“Yeah, but not in the same way” he stepped around the counter standing in front of you now, his frame towering over yours.

“Said who”

“What”

“Who said I don’t love you in the same way?”

Chris lunged forward, one hand grasping your waist, the other coming up to cup your face as he leant down, his lips pressing against yours gently. It took you a second to realize what was happening before your hands found their way around his neck pulling him down to you, deepening the kiss.

From that day onward you became the friends who make out occasionally, it wasn’t the right time for you to try and be anything more, yes you loved each other, more deeply than you first understood but your lives were all over the place, you were rarely in the same city for more than a few weeks at a time and Chris’ career was exploding more than ever. It wasn’t the right time. So you’d both take what you could get when you could get it and that was enough for either of you.

It wasn’t until Chris’ 38th birthday a year later that you let things go any further. He had wanted a small celebration, so you had gone to dinner with a few friends, had a few drinks and then headed back to his place to watch a movie. You had been cuddled up on the couch, passing a beer back and forth between you when he placed it down on the coffee table, his hand sliding down your thigh, before pulling you into his lap. You had placed your knees on either side of his thighs, your hands on his shoulders while his trailed down your sides and over your hips before slowly moving to cup your ass. You leant down to place a soft kiss on his lips, him reattaching them as soon as you pulled away, biting your lower lip roughly.

There was something different in the way he was kissing you, the way he was touching you, more heat, more passion. Your hands were running down his chest as his grip on your ass tightened, holding you close to him, the intensity taking over. Before you knew it your shirt was on the floor and his hands were sliding up your back as your lips found their way to his neck. There was a tenacity in every movement, every touch, every kiss. His hands finding the clasp of your bra, undoing it with ease and discarding it with your shirt on the floor. He pulled away slightly, his eyes raking over your body perched on top of him, eyes filled with need and want, pushing up to connect your lips once again as you could feel the hard length of his cock pressing against you through his jeans. His large hands sliding to your thighs before standing you both up, your legs wrapping around his waist, hands in his hair.

He stumbled his way into his bedroom laying you down on his bed placing a soft kiss to your lips before hurriedly kissing down the side of your neck and chest, between your breasts and down to your belly button stopping at the waist of your jean shorts, fingers dancing over the button as he looked up at you, eyes questioning as if to get the go ahead, you nodded gently. He slid your shorts and underwear down your thighs, discarding them and grabbing at the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head before sliding off his jeans and boxers. You let your eyes trail his body as he situated himself between your legs leaning down to kiss you again.

“Are we really gonna do this” he laughed as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“I think so” you blushed, eyes meeting his once again, yours filled with anticipation, his with desire.

When you woke up the next morning, your head on his chest, his fingers running through your hair, you didn’t know how to feel, but you knew things were moving into a far more complicated territory.

The two of you went on this way for a while, hanging out with friends and family as if nothing had changed, but when it was just the two of you it was different, intimate. When you were away from each other you facetimed daily, you shared everything, you always had but now it felt like everything you were used to but magnified. When he was gone you missed him, when you were together you felt complete. It was so familiar but so new at the same time. At this point you were dating without the title, which had been fine with you both, you liked what you had together it was easy, simple, no pressure.

In early August you had moved in, the apartment you rented was being sold and Chris insisted it would be helping him, and besides he had said, you were there whenever he was anyway. You had your own room but it was rarely used, most nights falling asleep together in Chris’ bed, both finding you slept better when you were together. It was one of those nights, curled up in his bed, Dodger at your feet, watching a rerun of some sitcom when Chris had asked you if you would go to Toronto with him the next month, his latest film Knives Out was premiering at the film festival there and he had been equal parts excited and nervous about it. You had been taken aback at first, sure you’d visited him on set before and attended a few premieres but this felt different.

“You want me to?” You sat up turning to face him.

“Obviously” he laughed “I’d take you everywhere with me if I could”

“Aww cute” you chuckled pinching his cheek as he kissed the tip of your nose.

“I have press a lot of the time, but you could hang out do some sight seeing, then come to the premiere with me?”

“With you...or with you?”

“Whichever one means I get to have you beside me on the red carpet”

“I don’t know Chris...you know that will start a shit storm” you knew how bad the rumours that had started when fans spotted you just attending the premiere for the last Avengers movie had been, and while it really didn’t bother you, you didn’t want it to have an affect on his career.

“Honestly? I don’t care.”

“Okay” you knew he wouldn’t say it but you could tell from his face that he was feeling anxious about it “I’ll come with you, but if you decide any time that you’d rather walk the carpet alone thats okay”

“I won’t” he reassured you, placing a kiss to your temple.

The day of the premiere came around quickly, Chris had been doing press for the past couple of days and you had spent most of your time exploring the cities sights. Chris held true to his word and didn’t change his mind about you walking the carpet with him. He had been a ball of nervous energy since you had woken up, you had left him eating breakfast to go take a shower and start getting ready for your day.

When you came out of the bathroom towel wrapped around you tightly, wet hair loose and ready to be dried you had found him pacing the hotel room in his underwear trying to keep himself busy, it was something that would put most people on edge but you had seen this so many times before with him, always getting in his head, always doubting himself and usually you were able to talk him down easily, but this time you had decided to try a different method.

Calling his name you let go of the grip you had on your towel letting it drop to the ground as he looked up having not previously noticed you had come back into the room, freezing instantly eyeing the curve of your body, a slight smirk across his face.

“What’s this for” he laughed as he closed the gap between you, hands finding your hips as you rested yours on his chest.

“You needed to get out of your head” you whispered as your lent up to kiss him, one hand sliding down his chest and finding its way into his boxers taking his length in your hand and stroking it slowly as you felt it harden beneath your grip. You pecked his lips before dropping to your knees on the plush hotel carpet pulling his boxers down with you. You pumped him a few more times with your hand before letting your tongue lick over his head tasting the saltiness of pre-cum. You took him halfway into your mouth, letting your warmth surround him before pulling off and sliding your tongue along the underside of his cock. Surrounding him with your mouth once more, this time dropping down deeper and with more intent, you hand finds its way to play with his balls, Chris letting out a breathy moan. You started to bob your head up and down as his hand found its way into your hair guiding you as his hips began to thrust, his tip hitting the back of your throat with each movement. It didn’t take long before he was warning you that he was about to cum, and cum he did, hard and fast right down your throat as you swallowed the taste of him before letting his cock slide out of your mouth. Chris pulled you up from the floor crashing his mouth into yours, tasting the remnants of himself on your tongue as he guided you back to the bed determined to make you cum just as hard as he had.

An hour later you found yourself in the shower for the second time that day, this time joined by Chris. You took your time, him massaging shower gel onto your back, while you reached up lathering and rinsing out the shampoo from his hair. You made sure to gently scrape your fingers along his scalp the way you knew, from many nights laying on the couch fingers curled in his hair as he fell asleep in your arms, relaxed him. Once you got out of the shower you realized Chris’ stylist and the hair and make up artist you had insisted on hiring yourself would be showing up any second.

By the time you were in the car waiting to pull up to the carpet Chris had seemingly relaxed, he held your hand the entire car ride over but you knew he was in a much better place mentally and that the second he got out he would turn on his charm and have everyone eating out of the palm of his hand the way he always did. When it was time to get out of the car Chris stepped out first leaning in to offer you his hand as you stepped out behind him, you could here the gasps of fans and media alike, all surprised that Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor had bought a date. Chris had pulled you into his side at the photo area, his hand on your hip as you placed yours on his chest posing for the cameras. You had been surprisingly pretty calm about the whole thing until that moment, cameras flashing in your face and paparazzi screaming from behind their barricade for you to look in twelve directions at once. It was overwhelming and something you don't think you could ever get fully used to.

“Just breathe” He whispered to you out of the side of his mouth, knowing that you had started to spiral.

After what felt like an hour but was probably ten minutes Chris’ team moved you along to the press portion of the carpet, you had expected to just stand back with the team while Chris answered questions from reporters from all of the different networks and publications but he had refused to let go of your hand as he approached the first reporter so you found yourself next to him through it all. Of course the first question was about you, and you just knew every headline tomorrow would mention it. It used to frustrate you, how the media would hone in on any female he was seen with, making the story about that and not the hard work he was doing, but you knew they were just trying to sell papers, page click and views.

“So who do you have here with you today” the reporter smiled tilting her head in your direction

“This is my best friend” Chris started before motioning for you to finish, that was one of the many things you had always loved about Chris, he never wanted you to feel like you were in his shadow, you had your own voice and you could use it. You introduced yourself to the reporter who asked a few questions about how you met and then switched to talking about the movie. After a few more interviews that went in a similar fashion you were escorted into the theatre for the screening, Chris took your hand as the two of you sat side by side in the theatre waiting for the film to start. You had enjoyed it a lot and really loved seeing this side of Chris’ acting ability. When the movie was done he joined some of the cast at the front of the theatre for a quick question and answer session for the attendees before you all headed to the after party.

Chris had introduced you to some of his cast mates, and reintroduced you to a few you had met previously during a quick visit to set one afternoon. You had downed a few glasses of champagne by the time you were ready to leave the party, tipsy but not quite drunk. The two of you found your way back to your hotel, and you laughed as you entered the elevator remembering something you had thought about mid interview earlier that day.

“What?” Chris laughed pushing the button for your floor and leaning against the back of the elevator, as you pulled off the heels that you hadn’t realized until that moment were killing your feet.

“Earlier...I almost made the worst comment in the middle of that E! Interview”

“....oh god what were you gonna say?” He chuckled, amused at your tipsy candour.

“Well you introduced me as your friend...”

“Yeah....” Chris laughed, looking at you as if to say that’s what we agreed on.

“Well, you say we are just friends, but friends...friends don’t know the way that you taste” you smirked at him pointedly, both remembering the activities of that morning.

Chris burst out laughing, his full belly laugh, hand coming up to his chest before reach across and pulling you into him, placing a kiss on your nose as the elevator doors opened on your floor.

“True” he mumbled before leading you down the hallway to your room, “that is true” he had one hand in yours the other holding your heels that he must have picked up on the way out of the elevator. “Well, how about next time I call you something else?” He started tone playful “This is my fuck buddy, no my slam piece, no thats too informal he laughed, girlfriend? No, hmm” He opened the hotel room door letting you slide in past him as he reached around to flip on the light switch closing the door behind him.

You stopped in the entry way a gasp leaving your lips. The room was filled with flowers. The pink and white Chrysanthemums filled every spare counter space, they had always been your favorite and Chris had sent you some for every birthday without fail. There were fairy lights lining the room and a small cart with a bottle of champagne on ice and chocolate covered strawberries by the window.

You turned back to Chris, your heart racing only he wasn’t where you expected....

“How about Wife?” Your eyes connected with his, where he was knelt on the floor behind you an open green velvet ring box in hand.

“What” was all you could get out.

“How about next time I call you my Wife. Marry Me?” Chris said, laughing at the shocked expression on your face “I’ve loved you for almost 20 years now, you’re the best thing in my life, and I never want to be without you...”

“Yes.” You said before you could even really think about it. “Yes!?!” You repeated realizing what was happening as Chris pulled the ring out of the box, sliding it onto your finger quickly before standing up to kiss you.

You’re not sure how long you stood there in the entry way making out, but when you pulled away you noticed that Chris’ eyes, like yours, were a little damp as you went to run your thumb across his cheek you caught a glimpse of the ring on your hand realizing you had barely even looked at it before it was on your hand. Chris pressed his lips into your hair holding you to his chest as you admired it. It was beautiful, delicate, subtle, it was just the kind of ring you would have chosen for yourself.

“Do you like it” Chris whispered into your hair

“I love it” you smiled up at him, lightly pressing your lips to his

“I love you” he smiled, not letting go of you.

“I love you too bestie” you giggled as he grabbed you around the waist lifting you over his shoulder and tapping your ass lightly as he took off towards the bedroom.

[falcqns]

i'll put this day back on replay and keep reliving it

pairing: Lewis Capaldi x collegestudent!Reader

summary: lewis asks you to marry him.

warnings: slight age gap (reader is 20-21, lewis is 24), fluff

a/n: this is a request for @iguana-eyanna! thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy!

Lewis had known since he met you that you were the one for him.

he had seen you sitting in a coffee shop, studying. he immediately took notice of you, and more importantly, how stressed you looked. the second thing he noticed was the sweater you were wearing. it was one of his limited edition hoodies that he sold last year. it had his name in a circle on the front just above the right breast, and it said 'I don't even know who lewis capaldi is', with a picture of him on the back, his eyes crossed out.

he looked back up to your face, and his heart hurt for you when he saw you were near tears. he looked at the menu, and contemplated sending you a coffee, but decided on a simple pastry. he ordered his coffee and his food, before ordering a pastry for you. he sat down where he could have a clear view of your face, and watched as a waitress brought it over to you.

he watched you look up and around for who could have bought the pastry for you, and blushed when you noticed him looking at you, a small smile on his face. Lewis got up from his seat, and headed over to where you were. he sat opposite you, and introduced himself, something he never thought he would do. you introduced yourself, and you two began to talk. he learned that you were studying Forensic Psychology, and that you had a midterm next week that you were struggling with.

he offered to help you study, and the two of you stayed in that little coffee shop until close. he got your number just before parting ways, and he was insanely happy when he got the text that you had passed you exam, and received extra credit for your hard work on your essay explaining Dr. Von Schrenck-Notzing's work on the subject of the effects of suggestibility in eye witness testimony.

after that, he became your study buddy. as much as he hated learning, he loved helping you learn, and he even found himself knowing way to much about the field of forensic psychology all because of you.

he realized that he liked you when he was watching a documentary on detecting deception in an interrogation called "what pretending to be crazy looks like," to help you with an essay. he realized he was completely invested in the video, and was even able to recognize when Nikolas was lying.

if it wasn't for you, he wouldn't have been able to do that, and it amazed him just how much you've affected him in such a short amount of time.

as he was thinking about you, he quickly realized just how much you'd affected him. the way that you checked in on him everyday, even when you were busy, the way that you invited him to every party you went to, and were seemingly able to tell when he wasn't doing well mentally just from a text. it especially killed him when you walked around his house in a pair of spandex shorts when it was too hot to wear anything else, the way you looked in the morning despite having no makeup on, and how giggly and touchy you were when you were drunk.

all of this hit him like a freight train, and he could feel himself falling in love with you like a drop of condensation heading for a table on a hot summers day. just as he realized this, you texted him and asked him if he wanted to go and see a movie with you this weekend. he found himself instantly messaging back, saying yes.

next thing he knew, he was sitting in a dark theatre with you, watching the live action Mulan movie that you had been so excited for. halfway through the movie, you leaned into him, and he wrapped his arm around you, bringing you as close as possible with the stationary arm rest in between the two of you. your head made it's way into his neck, and his other hand intertwined with your left one that had previously been holding your drink.

as the two of you exited the theatre, you two kept your hands together. neither of you said anything about it, rather talking about how much better the live action movie was than the animated one. as you were waiting for your Uber, his thumb began rubbing back and forth on the top of your hand. he saw the Uber coming down the street, and pulled you into him. his lips found yours, and his whole body ignited when you melted into him, your free hand tangling in his blonde hair.

that's how he found himself here.

he was sitting on his bed with you, doing flash cards for your upcoming midterm.

"what's epistemology?" he asked, and you thought for a second before answering.

"psychologists seek to find universal objective truths, whereas laws are vaguely subjective and based more on persuasion than objective measurement." you said, and Lewis nodded.

"fuckin' word for word." he said, tossing it into the correct pile and picking up another.

"importance of police discretion."

"some laws are vague, full enforcement would alienate the public, full enforcement would overwhelm the criminal justice system, and full enforcement would deplete limited police resources."

he stared at you in amazement. "are you y/n or a text book bloody hell." he said and you giggled.

"okay, two main criteria for diagnosing Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?" he asked, and as you opened your mouth to answer, his phone dinged. he picked it up and smiled when he saw he got the final cut to his new song, but his heart began pounding when he realized what one it was.

you nodded enthusiastically when he asked if you wanted to hear it. he hit play on his phone, and dropped it on the bed as the first few notes floated into your ears.

he got up from the bed and walked over to his closet as you closed your eyes, taking in the melody. with shaking hands, he reached up and grabbed the small box out of a shoe box. he slid it in the pocket of his sweater, and reached for your phone. he unlocked it and turned the video on just as the final verse before the chorus reached your ears.

"I want to marry you, will you marry me..."

your eyes shot open, and landed on Lewis, who was back on the bed, a ring box in his hand.

"what the fu-" you started to say, before Lewis paused the song and began talking.

"y/n, I knew you were the one for me from that first day in that coffee shop. all I wanted to do when I approached you was make your day a little better, and ever since then, you have made every aspect of my life better. you've made me the happiest man on earth, and I know it's crazy that I'm asking you this since we haven't even been dating a year, but I can't wait anymore. I love you so fuckin' much, will you marry me?" he asked, his voice wavering with every word.

you looked up at him, and nodded enthusiastically. "yes, of course, I will!" you said, and launched yourself into Lewis's lap. he hugged you close, a hit sigh of relief exiting his lungs. he grabbed your left hand and slid the ring on before reaching over to your phone and shutting the video off.

you sat there, on his lap, admiring the ring before a thought came to your head.

"the first is threat to life, serious injury, or subject to horror with intense fear and helplessness, and the second is recurrent flashbacks, repeated memories and emotions, dreams, nightmares, illusions or hallucinations related to the traumatic event." you said, and giggled when Lewis gave you a puzzled look. "that the 2 main criteria for diagnosing PTSD." you clarified, and Lewis looked alarmed before picking up the flash card beside him and looking at the answer.

"holy fuck you're right."

[seostudios]

mark’s dad.

pairing: johnny x fem!readr

genre: fluff + smut (like little angst) info: dilf!johnny, son!mark, best-friend!mark, aged-up!johnny warnings: age gap, unprotected sex, masturbation (fem) wc: 2.1k

note: hi i wrote this on my phone at like 1-3 in the morning... sorry if it’s bad but i wanted to put out something! i hope you guys enjoy it though cause dilf!johnny is so sexy

i think my son ditched you for haechan today, dear.” mr.suh informed you as you stood respectively in front of him, wearing an oversized sweater and basketball shorts. “aw man, i drove all this way for a movie with mark, and he ditched me for his other best friend...” you quietly sneer, the obvious jealously making an appearance. johnny chuckled, hands resting on his hips. he felt bad you came all this way for a simple movie night. “how about this?” your eyes look up, to the terrifyingly good looking man. “i will treat you to a movie and popcorn!” he suggested, knowing very damn well he’s going out of his way to possibly spend time with his son’s best friend, who he has known since they were sewed to the hip in sophomore year, now in university. “i-i don’t think that’s be appropriate,” “why? because i’d like to spend time and get to know the friend and possible love interest of my son? i don’t see any harm in that. i’ll get my coat.” he quickly responded, saving himself.

you knew he said you’d watch a movie together but you didn’t expect to get yourself two tickets to go watch a movie at an actual theatre. “that was amazing mr.suh-“ johnny looks down at your tiny figure holding the popcorn, “-i mean johnny!” if you’re being honest now, it was really nice getting to know johnny, besides the age difference and the possible complications with your amazing friendship with his son, you liked him. making your way over to his car, you listen on as he rambles about how he hasn’t this much of an outing since mark was in high school. “now he’s clinging onto me like we’re dudes, like i’m his dad not his bro.” he laughed, starting the car. “that’s so sweet though!! my mom never gave an effort to trying to be my friend even when i tried,” although you kind of party pooped the mood, you can literally reverse uno it right there. “but whatever!! she still brings me shopping which is good enough,”

nearing midnight and you know god damn well your mom would’ve killed you if she knew you took a taxi home alone in the middle of the night. johnny picked up on this, and even if he saw you in a new light today, a light which could possibly ruin his relationship with his son and a possible one with you, he couldn’t have let you home alone. “you know what? marks sleeping over at haechan’s anyway. i’ll call your mom and tell her you should stay over.” nodding, you let yourself in and up into his (messy) bedroom.

“hope you enjoy peanut butter and jelly for dinner, i kind of forgot to buy groceries...” johnny said handing you a plate of mini sandwiches. you mutter a quick thanks before digging in. tonight you saw johnny not as mr.suh but as johnny, the hot ass mother fucking dilf of the neighbourhood. you thought you were just a regular teenager to him, but you thought wrong. feeling his gaze on your exposed neck, lips. how his breathing would quicken whenever you leaned in to grab another sandwich. “wanna watch america’s got talent?” you asked pointing towards the couch. he shrugs agreeing, “why not?”

you had insisted on cleaning the dishes, i mean it was the least you could do. “so what’s the point of this whole show? to humiliate people or actually scout out people?!” johnny questioned staring at the screen, not noticing how you went from being on opposite ends of the couch to being almost inches away. should you initiate something? no, that would be overstepping into something erasable.

“this is so wrong,” you tell yourself before abruptly standing up. johnny turns his attention to you, trying to foreshadow your next moves. however, he didn’t expect for you to turn back around and straddle on his lap, “whoa..” he said, gripping onto your hips. “i want you.” his mind goes blur momentarily, “i-i cant, your my son’s best friend...” god, you looked so hot with your shorts bunched up as far as they could as you slowly grinder down onto his (huge) clothed cock. “fu..fuck,” he moans aloud, pushing all thoughts aside except for the one that kept telling him to ruin you tonight. the night was going better than planned, since you were in straddled on a topless johnny with only your bra and shorts on... probably a good twenty five minutes into kiss play, but mark chose the best time to unintentionally cockblock you and his dad. “y/n!!”mark shouted through the phone loud enough for johnny to hear (and the speaker wasn’t even on!) “yes markie?” you cooed, using one hand to speak on the phone and the other to signal johnny to keep it quiet. your hands trailed overtop your breasts, cupping them through your bra and pinching your hardened nipples, soon bringing your cold fingers down to the waistband of your shorts. “it’s fine. we can always watch a movie next weekend, i literally see you everyday! go hang out with hyuck,” you encouraged. past the waistband and under the hello kitty panties your hand comes in contact with your sensitive (dripping) folds. “a-ah, m..mark i gotta go...” “are you getting laid or something? i’m out.” he quickly ends the phone and you made sure to turn on ‘do not disturb’ incase he calls again.

“go on, i’ll watch.” johnny said seductively observing you as you toyed with your sensitive clot. “i’m close johnny!” you quietly moan into his ear, rubbing faster. “cum on your fingers, now.” he ordered, feeling you twitch underneath him, grinding as you had an orgasm. “dirty girl...” he groans watching you pull your fingers up to suck dry. now, you were a filthy girl, tasting yourself without being told to, cumming in your panties which you knew damn might have to force you to go commando tonight in marks bed. it was like a slap in the face when johnny lifted you up to stand, “it’s late. i- we should head to bed... i can give you some new shorts... since you know,” he quickly stammered before swiping his shirt off the floor, heading upstairs.

it was almost nine in the morning when you woke up, you knew johnny woke up around seven to eight so the sizzling smell of bacon wasn’t just some evil mind games. after last night, you felt, intense shame and guilt. did you seriously just betray your best friend for a lousy orgasm you could’ve done alone in the bathroom. “your up! i made breakfast, go ahead and dig in, i’m just gonna be cleaning up my bedroom.” he sounded as if you didn’t cum all over his lap not even 12 hours ago, but i guess he shouldn’t dwell in the past especially this time.

“mr.suh! my mom’s here! thank you... goodbye!” you shout from the front door. “anytime! bye!” he replies before you jolt out the door.

it’s been a couple days and johnny hasn’t left your mind. you always think about what stopped him, was it the age? your friendship with mark? that fucking phone call? johnny and you that night was like no other, you saw him for johnny, not mr.suh and it made your panties soak at every thought. how his ink black hair is always combed and in the most attractive middle part, how his broad should could feel when you hold yourself while being railed by his enormous cock. it was big, would it even fit? you’ve been with men before but the bulge you felt poking you in then thigh was something else compared to the other men.

you roamed his mind freely too. spending his day drinking hours, pondering over you, will you just slap him in the face and let him know you want him and you don’t care? he hopes. but it’s wrong. “dad! y/n’s coming over to study today,” mark shouted running down the stairs to his father. “so don’t snatch her up and take her away for a movie date, we got an exam this monday.” he said nonchalantly, the mention of their little outing slipping oh too casually. “w-what?” he asked surprised. “yeah yeah, i know about your little date and hook up” “- we didn’t hook up.” johnny interrupted, “well whatever you were doing for her to end my phone call like that,” he goes to the fridge to grab some milk, “so...” johnny said, eager on his son’s say on this. “so..? do you want me to be mad, dad?” i was lying if i said johnny was chill now... “no!!!!” he shouted, which earns a couple laughs from mark. “hey, dad,” mark sits down infront of his father. “it’s okay, y/n probably likes you back so you can do whatever you want with her, except hurt her cause i’ll kill you.” he deadpans before letting him off with a laugh. “so she can be your new mom for all you care?” he asked, playfully of course, waiting for the “hell no” and “what the fuck dad?!” to come but... “i mean she bags and tells me what to do, she helps me with school, laundry and chicks so... i don’t see why not,”

ding ding ding ding ding ding now what? hopping off the bean bag you were binge watching the office on, you head over to the door, not caring what you look like, just shut up to whoever had the audacity to spam a doorbell. “hello?!” you look up, “hey y/n,” johnny said with a small daisy in his hand.

“let me be your boyfriend,”

“what about mark?” you asked, staring at your feet wiggle in anticipation. hoping he’d tell you he doesn’t care and we could do whatever we wanted to. “funny you asked, he said for all he cares you could be his step mom.” you threw your head back laughing “he what?! no he didn’t....” the laughter dies down soon enough to get back to seriously listening in on what he has to say but did mark really not care? “your girlfriend huh?” you asked, raising a brow. he nodded. johnny proceeds to take the daisy and place it behind your ear, “you look like shit, but that is sexy as fuck.” he said, caressing your cheek before leaning in to place a peck on your lips.

“i don’t get why you drove half an hour here to say that, when i was already coming over to study.” you tell your boyfriend, johnny, as your backs his mattress. it was seriously an eventful day, wasn’t it? “i thought i should be romantic,” he shrugged turning to his side to wrap his large arms around your waist pulling you in closer. “i like this...” he mumbled into your hair, slowly drifting off to sleep.

“are you falling asleep?! we need to leave in ten minutes!!” you shouted, attempting to free yourself from his hold but he was knocked out and not letting go any time soon. “i hate you.” “i think it’s the quiet opposite y/n dear,” he replied, burying himself in the blanket, bringing you with him. “now let’s take a quick nap, mark can wait,” you sigh in defeat, “okay fine... twenty minutes!”

five months later, and you couldn’t believe having a relationship with your best friends dad was oddly working out perfectly. “johnny! fuck! baby your so good!” you whine as he penetrates into you against the wall. your legs wrapped around his waist as his cock rubs around your g-spot stimulating you into your third orgasm of that night. mark had recently gone travelling with jeno for fun so that meant you and johnny could’ve have your own fun in the empty house. “you can cum for me one more time can’t you?” he begged, placing you on the kitchen counter, kissing down your stomach. “answer me...” he sucks harhly on your clit. “yes! i can!!” you whined, squirming feeling johnny licking up your juicie; which sure as hell was mixed with his own cum, lapping his tongue around until you were shaking under his mouth and curling your toes to his mouth’s magic. “i’m- i’m cumming!!” you scream, releasing your juices onto the man’s face. “my favourite meal of the day.” he playfully joked before pinching your nipple. “tired?” he asked, as if he hadn’t been using you as a cum dump for hours. “mhm,” you reply opening your arms for him to carry you up, because “no way in hell am i walking up the stairs today after being railed by a monster cock.” you said snorting with a laugh. nonetheless, johnny swoops you up and gracefully carried you up and into his bed, “we can clean up tomorrow, let’s sleep now.” he said, feeling you wrap around him like a koala. “mmm goodnight... i love you,” you said in the crock of his neck, right below his ear before drifting off, “love you too,”

[sweettodo]

making out with man bun eren at movie theatre pleaseeeee

there’s something so exhilarating about making out at the movies, like why? i luv it

includes : making out, touching.

a/n : writing this made me miss going to the movies, god i hate covid.

“eren, it’s gonna start anytime now.” you rushed, there stood your talk boyfriend wiping the shoveled of candy clean, pulling out cash from his sweatpants pocket.

he lazily drapes an arm around your shoulder, “late? we’re missing the previews,” he laughs, you scowl, grabbing the boxes of candy, “what, you like the previews?” he teases, walking beside you.

“so what if i do?” you mumble, he laughs at you, pulling you tighter against his side.

“such an odd ball, c’mon.” the both of you turn into the dark hall towards the screen, “let’s sit at the top,”

“and i’m the odd ball? who sits in the back?” you cackle, following close behind him up the stairs, the theater filling with people.

you sit the second row from the top, eren sitting comfortably to your right as you place the drink in the cup holder between the two of you, “see, no ones behind us, you know what that means?” he wiggles his eyebrows.

you roll your eyes, playfully pushing his shoulder, “you’re the one who chose this movie, you’re gonna sit, and watch it.” he groans and throws his head back, spreading his legs to lean back in the chair.

like it’s a reflex, his arm wise back over your shoulder, you lift the cup holder which separated the both of you so you could snuggle up against him.

the loud introduction of the movie booms as the lights dim, eren’s hand digging into the box of candy which stood between his thighs, “wanna share?” you whisper, he drops more m&m’s down his throat.

“help yourself, princess.” he replies, taking the box and dumping them into your palm.

the movie starts, your eyes glued to the large screen in front of you, eren’s hand frequently rubbing up and down your thigh, his fingers softly massaging up the fabric of your leggings, it could put you to sleep.

your hand occasionally touching his own, taking in the soft skin, your attention leaving the screen and more or less onto your boyfriends hand.

“doesn’t that feel good?” he whispers, leaning close to your ear, you hum in return, giving him a small nod, “c’mere,” is all he says before his hand is easing up the back of your neck and pulling you closer to his face.

“kiss me?” you ask, he smiles.

“how could i resist,” he chuckles.

you take no time to close the gap, your hand resting on his cheek, his body turns towards you, pulling you closer and closer against his body until your chest is merely pressed against his own.

he tasted sweet, like candy, the sugar tainting your tastebuds.

lips working in sync against his, pulling away with his bottom lip gently between your teeth, eyeing him before you dip back down into the intense lip-lock, his eyes dark and his face was warm.

your fingers moving up and towards the roots of his hair, seeping deep into his bun and gripping, he groans into your mouth quietly, knocking his tongue against your bottom lip, begging to taste more of you.

you allow him, your tongue doing the same, swirling against his own at the make-out session grows, trying not to pant from the lack of air, you feel hot under your sweatshirt, but you couldn’t pull away.

his hands gripping your waist, thumbs caressing against the hem of your leggings, pulling you further into his lap.

your eyes shut once more, deepening the already inseparable kiss, teeth clashing.

god, you could get drunk off his taste.

[queenshelby]

The Singer – Part Four

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 2,483

Warning: Smut, Semi Public Sex

 ***The Interview***

It’s been three weeks since Kurt’s stunt and things between you and Cillian couldn’t have been better. Whilst you struggled with comments from the press and the public initially, calling you a home wrecker and making an issue out of the age gap between you, it brought you and Cillian closer together and he even defended your relationship in a recent interview.

Whilst you still hadn’t talked about what you were and where you were at, it was clear to you that you were officially dating. But no one really took you seriously. You were seen as Cillian’s midlife crisis.

Cillian cared very little about the press, ignoring the bad rumours and assuring you that none of this mattered.

He was right. It didn’t matter. People were still buying your new album which, under contract, was unfortunately being produced by Kurt. Under the same contract, you were also obliged to engage in interviews and promotional events.

Whilst you were very eager to simply break your contract, Cillian reasoned with you. He was sensible and you were impulsive.

He assured you that breaking the contract would simply mean more bad press and you engaged Cillian’s agent to help you with media engagements. He seemed to take a sensible approach and asked interviewers to not ask you any personal questions.

But this didn’t always work out, especially when you had an interview scheduled with a London based program whose interviewer just loved to get under your skin.  

This interviewer managed to ask you about your alleged affair by referring to some lyrics of one of your songs.

‘Look, my private life is private and I will not discuss my relationship on this show. But what I can assure you is that there was no affair. We both had separated from our partners when we got involved with each other. The song you are referring to was written over a year ago and doesn’t reflect any of my personal experiences. It was written for a movie and just like the movie, it’s fictional’ you explained in response of the interviewer’s intrusive question.

‘There are many other songs you’ve written which come to mind indicating that you do in fact prefer to be with men who are older than you. These songs were all well received but your relationship is not. How do you feel about this?’ the interviewer than asked, not giving up.

‘Again, the songs are fictional, but my private life is not. That might be the issue. It’s all good if it’s fictional but as soon as it’s not, people get curious. Perhaps there is a lack of understanding surrounding relationships that aren’t the norm. Maybe people’s perceptions will change over time. I certainly hope so. After all, there are so many relationships in the history of the world where people have large age gaps and I believe that every adult has the right to date whoever they want without being criticised about it’ you explained before taking a short pause. ‘Anyway, I would prefer if we could chat about my music now rather than my private life. That’s why I am here’ you said bluntly.

The interviewer finally backed off after your request and your agent had already called in, putting the producers of the show into their place.

Cillian had also listened to the interview and texted you, making sure that you were alright and telling you that he thought that your response was well placed.

Kurt, on the other hand, was once again annoyed with you and sent you a rude text message shortly after the interview and he couldn’t help but try to get under your and Cillian’s skin.

***The Function***

Later that day, the studio was hosting a release party to celebrate your new album which Kurt had organised at the theatre complex function rooms.

It was a beautiful venue but you knew that Kurt would be attending which could end up being a complete nightmare.

This was also the first official event which you were attending together with Cillian and you raised the question whether this meant that you are his girlfriend now.

‘I suppose….I don’t know…do you want me to be your boyfriend?’ Cillian chuckled as he buttoned up his shirt.

‘I would love you to be my boyfriend’ you giggled before giving him a kiss and asking him to zip up your dress.

‘Well, I suppose I am officially off the market again then’ Cillian chuckled before returning the kiss, which was also when you heard the taxi pull up in front of his house.

Your agent has taken the liberty to invite several producers to the party, much to the dislike of Kurt. Kurt was even more irritated when you finally arrived, together with Cillian who was holding your hand.

‘Y/N…Cillian’ Kurt said greeting you both, wanting to shake Cillian’s hand but all he got in return was Cillian raising his eyebrow.

‘Kurt’ you responded with an almost evil grin on your face and just before Kurt leaned in and kissed you on the cheek.

You didn’t stay to talk to him and it wasn’t long until you were inundated by other producers, wanting to talk to you.

‘I told you, she can be a real slut’ Kurt said to Cillian as Cillian gave you some space to mingle, unbothered by the attention you were receiving by several of the producers your agent had invited.

‘And you wonder why she left you?’ Cillian chuckled, thinking that Kurt is an absolute douche.

‘You know she sucked my cock just before I signed her’ Kurt said with a smug face and it was obvious to Cillian that he had been taking some coke again.

‘Nice talk’ Cillian laughed before walking away, getting himself a drink and talking to some of the other artists.

After about thirty minutes you sought out Cillian who was standing next to the buffet talking to two female artists and you decided to give him the same space he had given you. Jealousy wasn’t your thing and you knew there was no need for it.

Eventually, however, you received a text message from him which said nothing but ‘HELP’, making you giggle. He obviously didn’t enjoy himself talking to these women and was being polite, hanging out with them and engaging into some small talk.

Just as you were going to get Cillian away, Kurt approached you.

‘Found a new producer yet?’ he asked and you responded with a quick ‘maybe’.

‘You won’t get the same sweet deal you had with me Love…’ Kurt went on to say, causing you to laugh.

‘You remember that night in the record studio together?’ he asked sheepishly.

‘Yes, I do. You lasted a total of ten minutes which was quite something Kurt’ you chuckled.

‘And I bet these were the best ten minutes of your life’ Kurt said just as Cillian approached you, listening into the conversation and taking in a deep breath.

‘Would you please give us a minute’ Cillian asked somewhat angrily.

‘I will…because my date is here’ Kurt said sheepishly.

‘What, did you hire an escort?’ Cillian asked, looking over to the woman Kurt pointed at.

‘She’s a model’ Kurt explained, not realising that Cillian was being sarcastic.

‘Of course she is’ Cillian chuckled before saying bye to him and this is when you broke out laughing.

‘He’s got the IQ of an ape’ Cillian huffed as Kurt walked away, shaking his head in disbelieve.

‘You are being so polite sweetheart’ you giggled.

‘I am sorry, but he just makes me fucking angry. You know what he said earlier?’ Cillian said but, before he could tell you, you crashed his lips onto yours.

‘Are you angry?’ you asked as your lips drifted apart.

‘At Kurt? Yes’ Cillian said.

‘Good. Come with me’ you winked as you pulled him away from the function.

Without questions, Cillian followed you upstairs where the offices of the producers were located.

‘I saw you talking to these women earlier…tell me about them’ you said as you led Cillian towards the back of the office area.

‘Sorry Y/N, I don’t know much about them, they just…’ Cillian said but, before he could finish his sentence, you interrupted him with a passionate kiss in front of the door leading to Kurt’s office.

‘Don’t apologise, just tell me. I think there is nothing more sexy than seeing other women want what I have’ you smirked, your hand moving to his crotch.

‘Seriously?’ Cillian asked, causing you to nod and bite your lips suggestively.

‘Well, unlike you, I don’t like seeing other men want what is mine now, especially not this smug bastard’ Cillian said before pressing his lips back onto yours for an urgent kiss.

‘Please tell me this makes you angry’ you giggled as you pulled a white card out of your handbag.

‘Of course it makes me angry and, if I wouldn’t be so fucking complacent, I would punch him’ Cillian chuckled just as he watched you swipe the card through the black machine on Kurt’s office door before putting in the PIN on the security keyboard.

‘I’ve got a better idea’ you smirked as you pulled Cillian into Kurt’s office.

‘What are you doing?’ Cillian asked and all you did in response was looking over to Kurt’s study desk.

Cillian’s eyes lid up and, before you knew it, you felt your lower back pushed against the desk while Cillian lifted up your dress and pushed aside your panties.

‘You are so wet’ Cillian growled with excitement as, without warning, he pushed two of his fingers deep inside you, causing you to moan loudly. He was so aroused and rock hard, ready to take you, but he wanted to play with you first.

‘You do this to me Cillian’ you moaned, throwing your head back and taking in the sensation of his fingers deep inside your tight entrance.

Cillian continued to slide his fingers back and forth within your wet folds, hearing you moan and gasp at the sensation. He then slipped his middle finger inside you. You cried in pleasure. He loved pleasing you like this and started to thrust his fingers inside you faster and faster, watching your body pulsate with his movements.

He hit your g-spot over and over again and you knew what this meant. He was doing this on purpose, making sure to mark what is his and, in the process of it, possibly also mark the carpet in Kurt’s office if he kept going like this.

‘Oh god Cillian’ you cried, your eyes closed as he was manoeuvring his fingers tilted up to get the pleasure spot over and over again until your legs began to shake.

‘You like that?’ Cillian asked softly as he continued thrusting his finger into you and you barely managed to nod.

You fluttered your eyes open and looked at him as he confidently smiled at you. His unabashed confidence was turning you on even more. He knew that no one else ever made you cum like this.

As he continued to finger you, sending waves of pleasure over your body, you could feel yourself getting close to your orgasm and just as you were about to scream in pleasure, Cillian pushed his other hand over your mouth firmly as you came over his fingers, a wet puddle immediately forming on the office floor.

While your head was still spinning and without allowing you to come down from your high, Cillian spun you around and pushed you down against the cold oak table.

He certainly was angry and you loved every moment of it.

With one swift movement, he lifted up your dress again and pushed down your panties.

‘Spread your legs’ he instructed and you obliged, hearing his belt unbuckle and the zipper of his jeans opening.

‘That’s good’ he said as he was positioning his cock directly at your entrance, ready to push in.

Your heart started pounding with excitement and with one hard and powerful thrust and one loud groan Cillian buried himself deep inside you.

You shrieked at the sensation as he immediately and forcefully bottomed out inside of you. It took your breath away and he gave you no chance to adjust as he began to thrust in and out of you.

‘You are all mine’ Cillian moaned as he hit your cervix with the tip of his cock for what felt like the hundred’s time.

‘I am yours Cillian, oh god yes, fuck me hard’ you moaned.

Cillian grunted with each thrust, getting more aroused by the second as he was taking you over Kurt’s desk.

Each thrust was igniting a fire in you. It felt so good and you cried at the inexplicable pleasure consuming you, calling Cillian’s name multiple times.

Cillian was grabbing your thighs, prying them apart, and opening you up to him even more. He thrusted deeper and harder into you in this position.

You cried, your nails digging into the wood of Kurt’s desk while your pussy clapped against Cillian with each thrust.

‘I am coming Cillian, fuck’ you moaned and just, like that, another loud moan escaped you and your orgasm washed over you, your legs quivering and shaking as a result.

Cillian exhaled and groaned loudly, leaning in and filling you with his warm cum at the same time. You felt yourself fill up with his seed, exhaling at the sensation. He stayed inside you for a minute, then slowly pulled out. He watched his cum flow out of your opening ecstatically, running down your thighs.

You then turned around and grabbed one of the tissues from Kurt’s desk, wiping your legs clean before throwing the tissue into the bin.

His desk was covered with some of your sweat and juiced and Cillian looked at your flushed, glistening, beautiful face as you were still panting and kissed you softly on the lips.

‘Should we clean this up?’ Cillian chuckled as he closed up his belt.

‘Oh god no’ you smirked before collecting a good amount of Cillian’s cum that had pooled inside you and then licking your finger suggestively before pulling your panties back up.

‘Let’s get back to the party and say goodbye, shall we?’ you giggled.

Cillian followed you and the first person you chose to say goodbye to was Kurt, which surprised Cillian.

Giving Kurt a big kiss on his cheek, you wished him a pleasant evening and Cillian’s chin dropped immediately.

He couldn’t help it but laugh, shake Kurt’s hand, with the same hand that had pleasured you just minutes earlier, and wish him a pleasant night also.

‘You are so fucking bad, you know that?’ Cillian laughed later in the taxi on your way home.

‘He deserved it’ you giggled.

   Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal   @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse   @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  @zozeebo  @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa  @littlewierdalien  @sad-huffle-nerd  @theflamecrystal   @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @themissthang  @0ghostwriter0  @stylescanbeatmyback  @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni  @momoneymolife  @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03  @mcntsee​@cloudofdisney​ @missymurphy1985​​ @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @otterly-fey janelongxox  @uchihacumdump

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @margoo0 @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee  @daydreamingnymph  @fookingshelby   @chocolatehalo

[honeylikewords]

jack daniels ship questions!

(Remember that ship questions prompt list I posted a while back? Here are all of those prompts, filled out for Jack and his wife! Hope you guys enjoy! Content Warnings: Not much to speak of, but some mentions of conceptual peril, Jack’s latent PSTD-linked behaviors, pregnancy. Word count is 6.8k. )

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

How did they first meet?

There are plenty of good options for this, but I prefer to imagine that Jack and his future wife met at work; the New York Statesman office is a functioning business, after all, and would therefore hold many people in its employ. Though Jack may be deployed to the field every now and then, he’s actually used surprisingly sparingly, and spends a great deal of his time actually working at the New York headquarters at a very real job as a chairman of the board for the company. His future wife worked on the same floor of the building in marketing, and the two of them crossed paths often, both in corporate meetings and just out and about in the halls of the building. 

What was their first impression of each other?

Jack immediately was drawn to her after hearing her speak up during a meeting; she’d been sent in as one of the marketing presenters and had a wonderful breadth of ideas for the company, and he was charmed by her warm presence, intelligent voice, and sweet manner. His first impression was deeply positive, and he spent the rest of the meeting eyeing her curiously, his tanned cheeks flushed with pleasure at being able to watch her shift her files around and toy with her hair as she listened to other speakers and nodded along: she was very, very pretty in exactly his kind of way, and he liked that very, very much.

Her first impression of him was, contrastingly, rather fearful; she knew him only as “Mister Daniels”, and had only heard of him through memos and word of mouth around the office. When she was called in to speak to some of the board members, she was petrified with anxiety at the idea of slipping up in front of such important people and, in fact, barely noticed Jack the first time they shared a boardroom: she was so nervous about getting everything right and speaking clearly and conveying the correct information that he sort of blurred with all the other execs and suits. That said, she did notice him watching her throughout the meeting, and any time their eyes met (and he often smiled at her when they did), she became acutely aware of just how handsome he was; his features striking, his mannerisms coolly lackadaisical, his posture wide and relaxed, his deep brown eyes smoldering under a firm brow as he flashed her a sharp smile. No wonder his name flew around the office so much.

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

Nobody really knew, frankly: Jack has no family to speak of, and not that many friends, either. For someone so charming and socially adept, Jack is surprisingly something of a loner, and tells very few people anything about himself, much less about his feelings or attachments. Literally nobody knew that he was developing feelings for her, much less was intent on pursuing those feelings and manifesting them into a relationship, and he liked the privacy of that.

Likewise, she didn’t mention her growing infatuation with him to anyone, particularly because it would be so embarrassing: if word got out around the office that she was making eyes at a higher-up, it’d seem deeply unprofessional. Besides, she wasn’t really close friends with anyone at the office and they didn’t need to know, especially when she believed that her feelings couldn’t possibly be returned. 

Who felt romantic feelings first?

Jack. He may not seem like the type, but when he falls in love, it hits him like a train: hard, fast, and unforgiving. It knocked him off his feet and flat onto his ass, and he didn’t mind a bit. The only hard part was keeping it a secret from her for so long!

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Big time. Jack felt it would be inappropriate to make a pass at her at all-- his gentlemanly nature insisted he was only to subtly imply his feelings for her, but otherwise treat her with ladylike gentleness and cordiality-- especially when he did hold some sway in the office, and that could be misinterpreted as, well, something unsavory. He tried hard to push the feelings down, to make them quieter and less intrusive, but he couldn’t help growing more and more attached to her, particularly when they ended up spending more and more time together as coworkers. Every new side of her that he saw made him fall more hopelessly off the steep cliff’s edge of adoration, and he barely had the willpower to hold on to propriety. Still, he did his damnedest! 

Similarly, she resisted a great deal; how embarrassing would it be for her to try and flirt with a man so far out of her league, and so far up the ladder from her rung? It’d kill her, socially and in terms of her career, to make a faux pas like that, so she kept the feelings bottled up deep, deep inside herself. Still, whenever he smiled at her or went out of his way to be so intoxicatingly gentlemanly towards her, she found herself swooning; sure, maybe he treats all the girls like this. Maybe he’s just a well-raised man. But she still couldn’t resist the inkling that, maybe, just maybe, he was particularly fond of her; even if it was just a girlish fantasy, it made her heart race to imagine him harboring some secret affection for her, and, as she would later find out, that fantasy ended up being more than a little factual.

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

Jack is a sucker for the idea of soulmates. He fully believes in commitments of the heart, body and soul, and would be utterly unsurprised to know that the woman he’d given his heart to so wholly was his soulmate. He may talk a lot of big game and posture all the live-long day about pleasing women and seeing “the whole doughnut”, but that’s just pretense: Jack’s a one-woman man, and he’s happy to pledge himself as her soulmate. More than happy.

What would their lives be like if they had never met?

Jack, presumably, would have continued his work without ever knowing there was something missing, but would be distinctly less engaged in the office, sharply unhappy, and would have been more inclined towards keeping himself busy with field work. He would have closed off even further from attachments and affection and continued in his hollowed state, scraped clean of any remnants of the possibility for love, and would have, likely, kept running missions until his luck ran out. A dark ending to a cold story.

Her life would be entirely up to her, ready for any path she might be inclined to follow, though she would never know the joy of being treated with such respect and love as Jack treats her with, and she would never meet a man so gentlemanly, so adoring, nor so intensely loyal. Perhaps she would meet someone else she could love just as much as she would have loved Jack, but her life would be a painting lacking  the warm hues of Jack’s mirth, love, and tenderness.

GENERAL

Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

I have a whole fic about that! But, in short, Jack did! I like to think of Jack waiting for ages and ages to find the “right” moment to tell her he had feelings for her and ask her out, and though he was petrified of making a mistake and losing her forever (and coming off like a creep), he managed to show her the sincerity of his attachment, and be granted the greatest gift of all: returned affections. She wanted to go out with him as much as he wanted to go out with her, and, from there, they melded together and the relationship progressed!

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

In that aforementioned fic, I suggest that their first date was sitting together on a long flight and watching movies together during a corporate excursion, and I like to stand by that! But if you mean first “date where they went somewhere”, after that flight, the two of them rented a car at the airport, went for breakfast at a local diner, and then took in the sights of the town before capping off the night with dinner and a movie. They ended up spending the whole day together, talking about everything and nothing, shy but ecstatic to be finally able to be open with their attraction to the other, and adored every moment of the date. It was a little awkward, at first, but they quickly matched one another’s patterns, especially towards the end of the night, cuddled up together at the theatre, resting their heads on each other and holding hands, exchanging little kisses on the hand back and forth.

It was like magic.

What was their first kiss like?

Nervous! Jack, normally so confident and slick, found himself trembling as he leaned in closer to her, hovering his lips over hers and feeling the quakes and tremors careening through every muscle of his body: all he wanted was to grab her by the face and kiss her as hard as he could and never let go, but he knew that would hardly be appropriate, so he just inched in, millimeter by millimeter, until she pressed up and closed the gap herself, sending him spiralling with fireworks behind his eyes and pure jolts of adrenaline coursing through his heart. 

He ended up accidentally deepening the kiss by leaning in and groaning through his nose-- he’d held back for so long that his body wanted to take everything it could get before it lost its chance-- and felt her hands rise to cup the back of his head, locking him into her, which made his legs turn into jelly and his eyes roll back in their sockets in delight.

Suffice to say, they were out of breath when they parted, and not just from holding their breaths during the kiss.

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

Well, she wasn’t Jack’s first kiss, nor his first girlfriend, but she is definitely Jack’s first and only love of his life. And his first and only wife! As for the other way ‘round, Jack is his wife’s first long-term boyfriend, then her first and only husband, and, of course, the one and only (and thus first) true love. Ain’t that sweet?

What’s their height difference? Age difference?

Jack comes in at 5’11’’, 6’1’’ in certain sets of cowboy boots, and often likes that his wife is just short enough for him to comfortably rest his chin on top of her head during hugs. As for their age difference, Jack wouldn’t be at ease with anything more than a ten year age gap, and even that’s pushing it, so his wife is somewhere in that range. While age may be “just a number” to some, development isn’t, so he isn’t looking for a woman who isn’t at the same point in life he is. He wants to always be in sync with his missus, so being close in age and close in life plans is important to him.

What’s their relationship with each other’s families?

Jack has no real family; his parents both passed on a while back and he was an only child. He’s charming and affable with his wife’s family, but gets surprisingly nervous at family events and prefers to keep to himself: frankly, he’d rather spend all their holidays alone at home with the missus than be around her parents or siblings. 

Who takes the lead in social situations?

Jack. His savoir-faire attitude, pleasing manners and general suave presence makes him a natural fit for taking the lead in just about every situation, but especially when out and about; his wife leans more on the quiet side, and he’s fine doing the talking towards others for the both of them. He’s fine ordering for her at restaurants, fine handling chit chat with drivers or dinner guests, fine charming businessmen or clients. He’s happy to be her voice when she doesn’t feel like talking, and happy to be the conversational springboard for her when she wants to make a foray into it. 

Who gets jealous easier?

Jack has a shockingly vicious mean streak in him, and he can border on being possessive, at times. Sometimes it’s sweet how much he cares and how protective he is over her, but jealousy is a wholly different beast; when Jack feels like someone is flirting with his wife or has caught her eye, something hardhearted and controlling in him claws its way to the surface in him, and he looks at the object of her imagined affections with nothing but pure, boiling hatred. 

For example, he can get more than a little insecure if he thinks she’s staring too closely at a particularly attractive actor during a movie-- does she think that man has a better body than him? Does she like that man because he’s younger? Prettier? Has a smaller nose and brighter eyes? Fewer wrinkles?-- and ends up hating the actor in every subsequent movie, even going so far as to refuse to watch films with that person in them. 

He also can be more than a little rude to other men in public, but in a backhanded, “disguised” way, his cruelties and biting remarks hidden under a balmy layer of “Southern kindness”. Once, at a coffee shop, a barista gave his wife an extra baked good for being “the cutest customer he’d seen all day”, and Jack grabbed the pastry, smiled toothily at the man, and remarked that the barista had “good taste, though you wouldn’t guess it”, pointedly looked the man up and down as if judging his apparel, then took his wife’s hand and left the shop in a cloud of bitterness.

She’d really let Jack have it after that one.

Inversely, Jack’s wife can be more than a little guilty of jealousy, herself; after all, she knows her husband is a very, very attractive man, and that more than a few women find him alluring-- she’s heard how other women talk about him at the office-- and upon finding out that some of his field work can involve seducing women for information, she was in a near-constant jealousy tizzy for weeks. He’d had to promise her that he wouldn’t ever allow the seduction to be more than flirting, and even sworn to her that he would turn down operations where such a means of extraction was baked into the plan, but the feeling lingers, burning sour in her stomach whenever she knows he’s deployed. Is he out there, somewhere, flirting with some floozy, whispering things in that woman’s ear that he once whispered in hers?

It takes Jack eons to assure her that all his affection for her is earnest and passionate and that he never once used “the moves” on her that he might use for a mission, but every now and then, she still gets frustrated at the idea of him being coy with other women and he’ll have to take her aside and show her just how special their love is to him.

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear?

Mister Daniels. What he whispers is a secret between himself and the missus, but rest assured knowing that he likes to spare her no detail when elaborating on what exactly it is he’s thinking about when it comes to her.

LOVE

Who said “I love you” first?

Jack wanted to say it first so, so bad: he had a whole moment planned out, where they’d be on a night drive, parked in his truck, watching the stars, and he’d have beautiful music in the background as they lay in the flatbed, and he’d turn to her and say those three words, sweeping her off her feet, but… she beat him to it.

She’d come down with a horrible cold, one that left her practically bedridden, and he’d come over in a panic, carrying bags of medicine and ointments and cool patches and Gatorades and soup from the best deli in town, and he’d spent the entire rest of the evening taking care of her. After propping her up on her pillows, putting on a calming movie, throwing out all her used tissues, getting her changed into clean, comfy pajamas, and feeding her warm soup and cool drinks, she was drifting off to sleep. Jack was getting ready to spend the night sleeping on the couch, and just before he left, she tugged him by the hand, looking up at him with cold medicine-calmed eyes. Dreamily, she stroked his cheek and hummed a soft “thank you, baby.”

“Anything for you,” he replied, kissing her knuckles. “Get some sleep, alright, Princess?”

“Mmm,” she cooed. “Goodnight, bunnykins. I love you.”

And with that, her medicine kicked in, and she dozed off, leaving Jack floating on air, hovering by her bed, staring with utter adoration at this sleeping angel who… loved him. 

Loved him.

He barely slept that night, eyes fixed on the ceiling as he tried to fight off the silly, creeping smiles of a boy in love.

What are their primary love languages?

For Jack, he feels the most loved when he receives physical affection and is able to spend quality time with his wife. He has a deep attachment to her and feels that it’s best expressed when they’re able to touch each other; he adores being hugged by her, feeling her kiss his whole face, the way her hands playfully squeeze his butt when he wears those jeans she loves, the sensation of her fingers in his hair, tracing down his jawline and throat. Any time she’s touching him, he feels his life is complete and full, and when they’re apart, he feels fuzzy around the edges, as if only she can bring the whole picture into focus for him.

Add to that the enjoyment of quality time: Jack loves being able to spend days on end in only her company, doing anything she wants, talking back and forth and just absorbing the pleasure of being in her presence. He especially enjoys working on something together, like learning to dance together or building something (he, somehow, fell even more in love with her as they built a bookshelf together for their new, shared apartment), and, of course, traveling with her for trips and vacations. Once, they were snowed in together during a stay in Oregon, and he spent the whole three days of the snow-in just following her around the cabin like a lovesick puppy. They ended up sitting together on the couch in front of the fire, her perched on his lap, he with his arms fettered around her tummy, watching YouTube videos on resin pouring for, like, ten hours. He loved it.

Who uses cheesy pick-up lines?

“Well, excuse me, miss, but there seems to be something wrong with my phone--”

“Jack, no, don’t--”

“Because I seem not to have your number in it!”

“Oh my god.”

“Did I wander on in to the Louvre? Because my, oh my, I am staring at a true work of art, little lady.”

“Jack, please--”

“Lemme go get my glasses on, beautiful; you’re too fine for me to see without ‘em.”

“I’m going to lock you out of the bedroom if you keep this up--”

“Now, sugar, come on, can you blame me? I’m in such terrible pain!”

“Mhm.”

“Because it sure hurt when I fell for you!”

“OH MY GOD.”

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

Every single day that Jack’s home, they’re cuddling in bed at the end of the day. He can’t sleep unless he’s got her in his arms, and he just can’t help but be a little handsy; he’s a lover of touch, after all! As for PDA, Jack tries to keep public affection “tasteful”, but also lets a little of his possessive nature pull through, at times: he likes to “mark” what’s his, and she’s his, all the way, so he likes to walk with his hand on the small of her back, sometimes cheekily stuck in the back pocket of her pants to get a feel of the nice curves back there, or periodically lean down to kiss her cheek and see if she’s interested in a more full-on kiss. At the office, they keep it limited to the occasional kiss on the cheek when there’s fewer people around, though that’s not to say Jack hasn’t teased the idea of going for something more intimate at work, before.

Who initiates kisses?

Both of them! They’re a very affectionate couple, but out of the two of them, Jack can be the most forward when it comes to making his intent to be kissed known. He has no shame about taking her chin in his hand and leaning in for a nice, deep kiss, or in pulling her by the waist away from whatever she was working, planting a wet one on her. Jack loves to feel her smile against his lips, and he’ll take just about any opportunity he can to snag a kiss from her. On her end, she loves to walk past him and press little kisses on his temples, cheeks, or the top of his head (provided he’s sitting down!), and will often try to walk off and continue what she was doing, only for Jack to grab her by the hips and tug her back for an even bigger kiss. He claims she “tempted him” into doing it; after all, a little kiss like that is more of an appetizer for the greater meal, is it not?

Who’s the big and little spoon?

They sometimes alternate, but more often than not like to go back to their favorite position, with Jack (and all his long limbs) as the big spoon, curled around his wife, resting his chin on his plumpness, pressed up against her. That said, he also adores feeling her softness surround him as she holds him from behind, all warm and cuddly. It makes him feel loved and cared for, and he melts for it.

What are their favorite things to do together?

Both of them enjoy exploring the town together: walking around the city, trying new restaurants, strolling in the park, window shopping, going to museums, anything! They like to walk and talk, discuss what they’re seeing, things going on in their lives, or what they’re hoping to do, next. They love trying new foods together, especially when it’s something unusual to them or something they’ve never heard of before. They also love to go to the movies together, and take great pleasure in reviewing films together or just canoodling in the theatre seats. Hell, sometimes Jack doesn’t even watch the movie: he spends all 90-some minutes with his face pressed into her neck, giving her hickies and letting his hands wander.

They also like to snuggle up at home and watch television, with Jack’s indulgences being cooking competition shows and dancing shows. He also has a secret indulgence: RuPaul’s Drag Race. He knows it’s trashy, he knows it’s staged, and he knows it can be, well, problematic at times, but damn, if he doesn’t get a kick out of how some of those queens fight! His wife will watch with him, even if it’s not her style, just because it’s cute to watch him gasp when one queen throws a drink at another or hear him complain that a queen is underdressed for the challenge. Watching Jack is ten times better than any entertainment the show itself could provide her!

Who’s better at comforting the other?

Both of them are actually pretty emotionally intuitive people, and Jack is deeply sentimental and emotionally intelligent, so it naturally follows that he can comfort her and show her all the examples of his love and protection when she feels low and fragile. Inversely, his wife knows him, and all his broken pieces, and is able to wrap her arms around him and tell him just what he needs to hear: the truth. That she loves him, that she’ll never give up on him, that she’s always by his side, and that they’ll weather any storm together. That he isn’t irreparable, unlovable, alone.

They both take great comfort in one another, and many couples envy their emotional honesty and how much they genuinely do care for and protect each other.

Who’s more protective?

Jack; he’s constantly anxious that something horrible is going to happen to his wife. He’s seen some pretty grisly business in his line of work, and participated in more than his fair share of that kind of business, and the ghosts of those deeds float around in his head and haunt his visions, making him fearful that something dreadful will befall her, as he’s seen befall so many others before her. He gets antsy and tends to hover around her, though he pretends he doesn’t. He also feels an obligation to protect her, as the “man of the house” and her husband; he’s old-fashioned and believes it’s his job to provide for and defend her, and while the sentiment is sweet, he can be a little overbearing at times, trying to coax her into letting him handle everything for her sometimes teetering on the edge of condescension. 

She knows he’s only trying to be her gentleman, her knight in shining armor, her cowboy, but she has to assert that she’s a fully capable adult woman to him every now and then and show him that while she loves and appreciates his dedication to her safety, she’s going to be just fine, and they can work together on things, not leaving it all up to him to take care of. He’s still learning, and he can sometimes regress into old habits, but he’s made wonderful progress!

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?

It’s an interesting mix of both! Jack loves to dole out praises and pet names and playful little flirts with his wife, but he’s also not afraid to get handsy with her to express his affection for her. He prefers to use both at the same time; holding her hips in his hands, swaying from side to side, murmuring teasing tones and warm whispers to her about how beautiful she is, how sweet and kind and lovely, and how she’s all his. And for as physical a man as he is, Jack feels truly loved when his wife tells him honest and earnest things she loves about him, or when she tells him he did a good job at something, and he can tell she’s sincere. It reminds him that he’s not just a body for her to love, but a soul, a person that she admires and takes comfort in. And that’s the most loving thing of all!

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?

They both really love Dolly Parton, so “Islands In The Stream” comes on fairly often as one of their “dance around the living room and sing to each other” songs, as does “Why’d You Come In Here Lookin’ Like That” by Dolly! He also loves Johnny Cash, so “I’ll Remember You” is one of their favorites. Elvis’s “Love Me Tender” is one saved for special, quiet moments; it was played at their wedding, and holds a special spot in their hearts as a song to hold each other to, or murmur the lyrics to one another to show them how much they are adored. 

Similarly, they also have “When I Fall In Love” by Nat King Cole as one of their special songs: after all, they had both promised that “When I give my heart it will be completely, or I'll never give my heart,” in their own ways, so dedicated to true and loyal love, and then they found one another, and their hearts were given in totality.

There are more, but these are just a few (particularly romantic) ones!

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

Jack calls his wife “Darlin’,” obviously, but also loves to use terms like “Honeycomb,” “Miss,” “Sugar,” “Little Lady,” “Babydoll,” “Princess”: heck, what doesn’t he call her? He loves using pet names for her!

She calls him “Mister Daniels,” “Cowboy,” “Baby,” and “My Big Man”, among other things.

Who remembers the little things?

Both of them! Each of them loves to keep track of special, unique things about their partner; she remembers that Jack hates acrid coffee and likes his with two sugars and two creams, or that he always puts his socks on left to right, or that he won’t leave the house until his tie is the perfect length, or that he always checks his mustache in every reflective surface he passes. He remembers that she brushes her teeth anytime she eats something that leaves the “fuzzy sweater feeling” and that she loves when he gently fingers combs her hair so much that her eyes close and she makes the same little pleased hum every time or that she only can sleep if there’s at least some cool air so she can bundle up and get snuggly.

The little things are what let you know you’re in love, you know?

DOMESTIC LIFE

If they get married, who proposes?

Jack, ever the picture of the classic gentleman, absolutely takes the initiative on proposing. He makes a whole big-to do about it, planning everything down to the exact detail and sparing no expense in trying to procure the perfect moment for him to pop that perpetual question. He actually quite enjoys the planning and that enjoyment does carry over to when they’re planning the wedding itself! 

What’s the wedding like? Who attends?

The wedding itself, despite Jack’s indulgences, was actually rather small: Jack doesn’t have that many people in his life he’d want to invite, so his side of the affair was rather empty, and so, in keeping, his wife decided to limit the event to just very close friends and immediate family. Both were very happy about that, being rather private people, and enjoyed being able to have an intimate wedding with a greater attention to atmosphere and personal touches than would be afforded for a much bigger wedding.

Jack had a few firm policies about the “tone” of the affair: he didn’t want a bunch of loud music, he didn’t want people getting drunk, and he wanted it to be fun but not “trashy”, a loose term he threw around at anything he didn’t really like or considered “gauche” when shopping around for wedding ideas. He also wanted to have at least part of the event take place outdoors, so the wedding ceremony was held indoors while the reception was outside, under the stars on an autumn night. 

He hired a full, live band to play the affair, and had a fair amount of fun dancing with his wife all through the night, from the traditional slow dance to up-tempo square dancing to just uncoordinated wiggling as they laughed their way into their brand-new marriage. Jack loves to dance, and having her in his arms, swaying to whatever beat life threw at them, made his heart soar.

I could go into more detail about themes and color palettes and the ceremony itself, but that’s for another day!

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like?

Jack wants tons of kids. He wants as many kids as nature sees fit to give them, and has absolutely no shame in expressing that desire to his wife. Thankfully, she’s on the same page: while she may not want to be pregnant every bout of nine months or so, she also wants kids and is happy to raise as many as come along over the course of her and Jack’s lifetimes; a big family does not daunt either of them. As such, their marriage became a very fruitful one as time went on, and they soon welcomed their first child, a baby girl.

Jack was absolutely, unbelievably smitten with the little creature the moment he found out his wife was pregnant, and became even more resolutely devoted to her when she was placed, wriggling and crying and all red and small, in his arms, mere moments after her birth. He’d stared at her, half-sobbing, half-laughing, as his wife gripped his hand, and both of them fell utterly, hopelessly in love with that tiny little girl as she took her first breaths.

The little family only continued to grow after that; a few years later, when their little lady had grown into a chubby, grinning toddler, she met her baby brother, a squirmy bundle of miniature limbs and his Daddy’s dark curls, who Jack swore was born knowing how to smile, giggling as soon as he felt his Daddy take him into a hug. Three years after that, another tiny Daniels came into the world, a bright-eyed and curious baby boy who seemed to only snuffle, not cry, when he was placed in his Mama’s arms that very first day, peering around with a wondering gaze that made Jack’s heart break with utmost adoration.

(There may definitely come more little babies, but I think three is a good number to start with describing!)

They’re each amazingly different, and Jack loves them all as unique souls: his daughter, Lucinda (shortened to Lucy), is playful like her father, and loves to follow him around the house and ask him what he’s up to, sometimes running off with his hat just to win his attention away from desk work or some other ‘unimportant’ task. She adores her Mama, and hangs off her mother’s every word, copying her mannerisms and asks near-constantly to help with cooking or with playing with her brothers, who she loves to play “pranks” on (translation: she raspberries their tummies, then shoots off to another room, laughing hysterically).

Their first son, Joseph, is a rowdy little whirlwind, and learned to walk quickly just to keep up with his older sister, giving chase wherever she went. He loves to toddle around the house, squeaking and cheeping, showing his Mama and Daddy what he’s doing (often putting something in his mouth that he absolutely should not be putting in there). He loves being carried by Daddy and will crawl into Jack’s lap on the couch, sitting on his knees and making faces until Daddy laughs. He absolutely loves to make people laugh, and will play games like peek-a-boo for hours, gleefully shrieking and adoring when he hears his parents laugh at his silly noises.

The littlest one, Johnnie, is the quietest of the children, and enjoys cuddling up to his Mama and Daddy and taking naps on their chest. When not sleeping, he likes to sit and watch what others are doing, and seems the happiest when resting in his carrier on the table, watching his Mama hard at work on a project, and especially enjoys watching her partake in crafts like knitting, sewing, or cooking. Johnnie also enjoys watching animal programs on TV: he cries if they play anything loud and bright for him, and calms immediately when Animal Planet or National Geographic is on. He’s barely old enough to hold his head up, but will stretch in his bassinet to see his favorite animal, horses, on TV, or if Daddy is reading a book and doing horsie noises. He loves to wiggle his miniature arms around in circles, delighted by the pony sounds, and Jack can’t help but grin at how adorable his little man is.

Do they have any pets?

Yep! Though they save getting pets until the kids are older, the family gets a pair of dogs, both adoptees from a local shelter. The bigger dog is a mutt between a lab and German Shepherd named “Messy” by Lucy, and the smaller dog is a beagle-mix named “Buster”. They’re both deeply well-loved dogs, and though Jack may have pretended to not want dogs, he dotes on the two of them relentlessly.

Who’s the stricter parent?

Jack can be paranoid, at times, about anything bad befalling his kids, and he while he tends to be relaxed and fairly easy-going with the children, he can sometimes have bouts of militaristic tenseness and scold them for going somewhere without telling him, playing in the street, talking to strangers, et cetera. He gets so nervous that sometimes it bubbles up in controlling mannerisms, trying to keep his children as safe as possible, but going about it the wrong way. That said, he is a loving father, willing to apologize if he steps out of line, and he never yells at his children.

Who worries the most?

As mentioned before, Jack can teeter into paranoia that something will hurt his babies, but his wife gives him a run for his money, at times, especially because it can be harder for mothers to be separated from their little ones at first. The truth is, all loving parents worry about their kids, and always will, and both Jack and the Missus worry about their wee ones out in the big world.

Who kills the bugs in the house?

Joseph keeps trying to eat them! But it’s usually Jack, if only by default as the taller partner with the long, willowy limbs that can actually reach the corner of the wall where the damn spider is hiding.

How do they celebrate holidays?

As best they can! Mostly, they like to keep it to just the family, and don’t do any huge parties, unless it’s a birthday, especially for one of the kids: Jack tends to indulge the kids, particularly on their birthdays, so while the parties aren’t massive, they often have lots of kids and their parents come over for a big playdate and run around the house, lots of cake and balloons and party hats and presents wrapped in puppydog paper. 

As for holidays like Christmas, Hanukkah, et cetera, they like to stay home and do all the decorating themselves, and often involve the kids in the decorating process. A cozy, safe at home feeling fills all their hearts and Jack loves seeing his family all gathered together, making little ornaments or snacks together, cuddled up watching movies or playing with toys, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Ol’ Missus Daniels has the greatest track record in the world of being able to coax her early morning-riser husband back into bed, back into her arms, and back to sleep. He can’t resist her sleepy eyes and beckoning smile, the way she opens her arms and pouts at him, the rusty creak of her tired little voice cooing “c’mere, you big lug, they can wait”. He has yet to convince himself to leave her side after a ploy like that.

Who’s the better cook?

Jack is flat out terrible. He’s great at a lot of things, but cooking is not one of them. He really is doing his best to improve his cooking, but he gets frustrated with how long it takes to make a good meal; he was so used to getting exactly what he wanted at fine dining restaurants and having things delivered to his apartment as a bachelor that he barely touched any of the dishes in his kitchen, and kept his fridge almost bare. Now that he’s a family man, he really does try-- he practices alongside his wife, watches the Food Network, stuff like that-- but he ends up burning things and getting pouty, and his wife will have to take over and show him how it’s done, which he appreciates. She was always the better cook out of the two of them, anyway.

Who likes to dance?

Very often, Jack’ll click on the radio and take his wife’s waist in his hands, giving it a loving squeeze as he twirls her around the kitchen, out through the living room, sometimes at the foot of their bed, his cheek pressed to hers, grinning from ear to ear. Sometimes, the babies will want to join in; Lucy will stand on her Daddy’s feet and hold his hands, swaying all around and screaming with delight, or Johnnie will be held to Mama’s chest and bop around with her to the tune of one of his favorite songs. Joseph, much like his father, likes to boogie on down and shimmy his diapered tush around, giggling as his Daddy applauds him. They all love to dance together!

Thank you for reading! Feel free to send in any requests for similar questions!